Читать книгу Siam and Laos, as Seen by Our American Missionaries - Various - Страница 14

Provided with a tropical climate, the forests and jungles, the air and the water of Siam, teem with animal life. The elephant heads the list. It is said that the king can muster thousands of trained elephants for service in war. Tigers and bears, rhinoceri, deer, wild goats and porcupines are numerous. The bones of the tiger are sold as a tonic, and rhinoceros-horns sell in Bangkok for more than their weight in silver. The cattle are small, and are used only to tread out the grain or with pack-saddles to transport rice, silk or army supplies. The buffalo, or ungainly water-ox, takes the place of our oxen. The Siamese have no milch cattle, and know nothing of butter or cheese, and their religion forbids them to slaughter for food.

While the Siamese have great veneration for the white elephant, the white monkey, the white squirrel and some other white animals, they have a great dislike to a white cat. Their cats differ from ours in color. Some have long tails and some short ones; some have curled tails that look as if they had a knot tied in them, and some have no tails at all.

Miserable yellow dogs of the pariah race may be counted by thousands. They are a great annoyance to missionaries when they go into the country distributing books from house to house. We have had seven or eight rush out at us from one house, and it was only by the greatest watchfulness on our part and that of our servants that they could be kept from pouncing upon us. It really requires a brave heart to venture among them on such occasions.

MONKEYS.

When out in the country in our boats we have seen scores of monkeys with their young leaping from branch to branch on the trees or playing their antics on the bank, and thousands of bats, that prey upon the fruit-gardens by night, and during the day may be seen hanging by their feet in their shady haunts.

JAVA SPARROWS.

Siam has a variety of birds—​the snow-white rice-bird, the kingfisher, the gay peacock, the pheasant, the parrot, and thieving crows of amazing number and audacity. There are many singing birds, among them a species of thrush that imitates all the sounds he hears. He will imitate the human voice, and bark, mew and crow. There is a small black-and-white bird that sings very sweetly at daybreak. Our domestic fowl is at home in Siamese jungles. Pelicans and other waterfowl abound.

The chief food of the common people is fish. They are found in great variety, and some of them are delicious. The streams so swarm with them that they often jump into the passing boats.

THE COBRA.

There are snakes, scorpions and centipedes in Siam, all of which frequently find their way into our houses. Some of the snakes are very venomous; among these the cobra, or hooded serpent, is abundant, and boa-constrictors ten and twelve feet long have often been killed while robbing our hen-roosts in Bangkok. One morning, on going into my bathroom, I found a snake three feet long. On another occasion, when about to retire, we found a very poisonous one under our bed. One of our missionaries carelessly left his trunk open, and when he went for a change of linen, he found a snake coiled up in the bottom of it. I have found scorpions on my bed-curtains, on my centre-table and elsewhere, and frequently in my clothes-basket.

But more than all these we dreaded the mosquito, from which we were never free, day or night. At some seasons of the year these little tormentors were almost more than we could bear.

There are ants too, large and small, black, white and red, and their name is legion. Sideboards, tables or anything else in Siam upon which food is placed must stand in bowls of water or oil, and it will not do to forget this even for a few moments. One morning, on my way to the dining-room, I stopped and admired my canary bird that was hanging on my front veranda. Going out again after breakfast, I saw a procession of beautiful yellow feathers moving along on a beam over head, and on hastening to the cage I found my pet lying dead, stung to death by the red ants and nearly stripped of its plumage. One of our missionary families once went to spend a few weeks at another mission-station, and on their return they found the white ants had come up through the floor and had eaten their way through a trunk to the top, and every fold of the garments needed mending.

We never wearied watching the fireflies as in countless multitudes they would spread themselves over the branches of their favorite trees, and alternately, with the utmost regularity and exactness, all at once give out their diamond spark or hide their light in darkness.

We were often serenaded at evening as we sat on our veranda by grasshoppers and crickets, while immense frogs would sing the bass in the grand chorus.

Beautiful, harmless little lizards, about a finger long, ready for their evening meal of mosquitoes and other insects, make their appearance on our walls and ceilings as soon as the lamps are lighted. I have often counted between twenty and thirty of them out at once. There is another lizard, almost as large as a young kitten, which also comes out on our walls for his evening meal, having hid through the day behind our mirrors or pictures. It is quite harmless, but with its loud outcry of tookaah! tookaah! it often startles new-comers from their midnight slumbers.

There are crocodiles in great numbers in the rivers and creeks of Siam. In one day’s boatride on the Upper Menam, Dr. House once counted one hundred and seventy, varying in size from three to fifteen feet.

Let me tell one or two true stories of crocodiles. When we were once visiting the mission-station at Petchaburee a crocodile seized a young girl twelve years old and devoured her, leaving only an arm in the boat. The governor, wishing to destroy the monster, ordered a search to be made for it, and invited us to see the captures which his men made and brought to our landing. Three huge fellows, averaging twelve feet each, lay securely pinioned on the bottom of their boat, but neither of them proved to be the one sought for.

HUNTING THE CROCODILE.

In the strange providence of God, whose kingdom ruleth over all, one of these terrible creatures once became the means of salvation to a Chinese fisherman in Siam, and through him of founding in a distant and important town a native church which now has many Chinese communicants. He was wading in the shallows at the head of the Gulf of Siam, collecting shellfish, when what he supposed was a log drifting toward him proved to be a huge crocodile, which attacked him fiercely, biting off his hand, so that it only hung by the tendons of the wrist. At his cries for help his comrades came and drove the creature away. Mortification set in, which would have ended in death had he not sought the missionary physician in Bangkok. My husband amputated the arm, the stump healed kindly, and when, at the end of the month, he left the mission hospital to return home, his gratitude and trust in those whose Christian kindness and care had saved his life led him to say that their God, of whom they had told him, should henceforth be his God. From that time he gave up the worship of idols and refused to work on the Christian Sabbath. As he spoke only the dialect used by the brethren of the American Baptist mission, who are laboring among the Chinese of Siam, he was referred to them for further instruction, and was soon baptized. He invited the missionaries and native assistant to make his house at Bangplasoi a preaching-station. Some of his relatives and others were converted, a mission-chapel was built (largely with his assistance), and now there are there several hundred Chinese converts from heathenism, and Bangplasoi is an important mission-station among the Chinese.

Elephants.

Having lived twenty years in “The Land of the White Elephant,” whose king has for one of his titles “The Lord of the White Elephant,” and whose flag is a white elephant on a red ground, having often ridden on elephants, and my husband having twice narrowly escaped with his life when traveling with them, once having been badly gored by one,—​I may be permitted to say something not only of the white elephant, but of his less-esteemed relatives of a darker complexion.

ELEPHANTS AT HOME.

Elephants are found in great numbers and perfection in Siam and the Laos country at the north. Our missionaries at Cheung Mai, the capital city of the Laos, tell us they not unfrequently see hundreds pass in a single day, and when a prince leaves home he is accompanied by a train of two or three hundred.

They sometimes attain to the height of ten or eleven feet, but whatever their height may be, it is a fact, which we have often proved by actual measurement, that it never exceeds twice the circumference of the foot. They are very long-lived, sometimes living one hundred and fifty years or more. They are used as beasts of burden and in war, for dragging timber from the forests and for traveling, and their tusks, it is well known, are a valuable article of commerce.

AN ELEPHANT PLOUGHING.

It would be hardly possible for one to make his way through the jungles of Siam without the elephant. He does not put his foot down till he is sure it is safe to do so, and then you may feel sure too. He will remove with his trunk interlacing vines, projecting branches of trees and everything that would hinder his progress, and if necessary he will drag himself on knees or belly over a swamp. If he has a stream to cross he will first, with his proboscis, find how deep it is, then move slowly and cautiously till he gets beyond his depth, when he will swim. He will descend into ravines into which men cannot go, and will climb steep mountains. He will travel from four to five miles an hour, and when weary will make known to his driver his wish to rest by striking the ground with his trunk, making a peculiar and unmistakable noise. A large trunk is considered a mark of great beauty in an elephant, but as he always carries it himself, no one can object to it. The driver is seated astride the neck. The elephant carries his head so steadily that this is the most desirable seat, because there is the least motion. It is the seat of honor for the king, who glories in managing his own beast. The driver always carries with him a large stick, at the end of which is a sharp-pointed iron hook, with which he beats the animal, when unruly, unmercifully over the head and temples till he is subdued.

Elephants are very sagacious animals, and many amusing and interesting stories are told of them. It is said that one of them was once taught to stand at the gate of the king’s palace and from a large vessel placed there, filled with rice, take out some with a huge spoon and give to every priest that passed. I cannot vouch for the truth of this, but more wonderful instances of sagacity can be verified. The white elephants in the king’s stables in Bangkok have been taught to salute His Majesty by raising their trunks high above their heads.

While I resided in Siam an American friend went with his wife from Bangkok through the wilderness to British Burmah. They traveled nearly two hundred miles, and used some fourteen different elephants, paying about fifty cents a day for each. At night these beasts were turned out to browse among the bamboos, some of the drivers keeping watch. When they were in the jungle bright fires were kept blazing. Awaking one night from a sound sleep, and looking toward the blaze, my friend saw among the outstretched sleeping men one of the huge elephants seated on his haunches warming himself by the fire. He awoke his wife to enjoy with him this strange and amusing sight in the solemn stillness of the tropical forest.

In March of every year a large number of wild elephants are captured at the city of Ayuthia, and from them His Majesty makes selections for his royal stables in Bangkok. For eight or ten weeks hundreds of men are employed to drive them from the forests where they roam, that they may be nearer the city. On the day appointed for their capture a number of tame ones are used to entice them into the enclosure prepared for them, and they seem to take great pleasure and show wonderful sagacity in helping to capture their kindred. They will hem in some two hundred wild ones, and with the help of their drivers and attendants compel them to enter through the gate into the enclosure. Some go in quietly, and others make great resistance. Such as His Majesty fancies are then secured by strong noosed ropes cautiously slipped over their feet and fastened to trees or posts. When thoroughly subdued by hunger or hard blows they are brought down to Bangkok. After a time they become quite reconciled to their new surroundings, and show no disposition to return to their forest home.

Nothing can equal the veneration of the Siamese for the so-called white elephant, though the only really white elephant is upon their national flag. Sometimes one is found something the color of a Bath brick (used for cleaning knives) or a little darker, and is so much lighter-colored than usual that it is spoken of as white; but most of these are only lighter in patches on shoulders, neck, head and inside of the ears. All over the kingdom, when such an albino is found, there is great rejoicing, and the finder is very handsomely rewarded. They come, as a rule, from the Laos territory to the north.

The country whose king is the fortunate possessor of one or more of these treasures is thought to be greatly blessed, and no amount of money can purchase one. The royal stables of Bangkok are seldom without an occupant. I have several times visited them. Siam should be very prosperous now, as His Majesty has five of these so-called white elephants. They are kept in a long block of buildings at the rear of the arsenal. Each one has an entire stable for his own use, his grooms and attendants sleeping at one end of it. The stable is high and spacious, and at one end is a small image of Buddha with lamps burning in front. Each has a royal title, and there is a handsome sign over the door giving in large gilt letters the full name and title of the inmate. The great beast stands on a handsomely-built pedestal raised about a foot from the floor, with its top just large enough to hold him. He has rings of gold on his tusks, and is fastened by one fore and one hind foot to gilded posts with ropes covered with crimson velvet. These royal captives are fed with bananas, sugar-cane and other dainties, and with small bundles of fresh grass, all carried to them on silver salvers by men on their knees. Every want of these royal beasts is carefully attended to. A recent visitor says: “He stands proudly yet restlessly on his contracted throne, and lashes his trunk and sways his heavy head and tusks around in an imperious, lordly manner, trumpeting now and then until the whole hall trembles with the deafening reverberation. When he is seen to itch in any part of his body his royal hide is promptly scratched with a small iron rake-like instrument with a long handle; his eyes are reverently wiped, and he has a cool sponge-bath every hour or two of day and night during the hot season.”

When one of these rare creatures is found in any of the northern provinces the governor of that province sees that he is comfortably escorted through the forest to the river, where he is received on a handsomely-decorated raft of bamboos, placed in a canopy in the centre of the raft, garlanded with flowers and pampered with delicacies. The king, with his whole court in their elegant barges, and myriads of people in boats, with banners and music, go up the river two days’ journey to meet him. As all are anxious to share the honor of bringing him down to the city, each boat has a rope attached to the raft, and shouts of joy fill the air as he progresses. On arriving, a pavilion in the palace-grounds is ready to receive him, a title is given him and slaves appointed to care for him. A public festival of a week’s continuance is appointed; priests of the highest grade chant prayers in his presence daily. When sick he is attended by the wisest of the court physicians; the priests wait upon him, sprinkle him with consecrated water and pray for his recovery. If he dies there is universal mourning, and funeral honors are paid to his remains.

One day a strange procession passed down the river in front of our house in Bangkok. There were eight large barges, six of them with curtains of crimson and gold cloth, each manned by about thirty boatmen dressed in red trousers, jackets and caps. They had a brass band, which made very mournful music, for it was a funeral occasion. The first impression was that some personage eminent for rank was being borne to sepulture; but no, this procession was simply doing honor to the dead body of a light-colored elephant.

The third and fourth boats had no gay curtains, but they had the five-storied umbrellas which denote great rank, and between these two boats the corpse was fastened and floated in the water. There was a canopy of white cloth over it to protect it from the sun. Phya is a title given to a high order of nobility in Siam, and this distinguished elephant was named Phya Sawate. It was so highly esteemed that more than two hundred men escorted it to its last resting-place.

Now, why such parade and ceremony? For the strange reason that the Siamese, with all other Buddhists, believe that at death their spirits pass into the body of some man or animal, of more or less importance according to the amount of merit made while living, and that they may be thus born thousands of times. If they find an elephant of a lighter complexion than usual, they think the spirit of some distinguished person dwells in it—​possibly, that of some future Buddha, sure to bring a blessing on the country which possesses so great a treasure.

We hope that the day will soon come when Christianity will supplant Buddhism, and the Siamese be wise enough to prize the elephant only for what it can do in the service of man.

Reception of a White Elephant at the Court of Siam.

A few years ago two Siamese peasants of the up-country, far to the north, were ordered by the governor of the province to go out into the jungle and hunt for a white elephant. The “Stones,” or astrologers, having prophesied that the present reign would be especially lucky, and that several of these spotted or albino elephants would be caught, constant vigilance had been enjoined on all the provincial officials of these regions, and large royal bounty was promised to the finders of such a prize.

Accordingly, leaving their homes and families, these poor men went out to live in the malarious jungle, wandering hither and thither for many weary weeks in vain, by day forcing their way through the rank undergrowth, anxiously following the tracks of the wild elephants up and down the streams, living on the fruit that grew on trees unplanted by man and the fish in the mountain-lakes; at night bivouacking under the stars, each in turn watching while the other slept to keep up the great fire built to protect their resting-spot from the fierce animals prowling about under the cover of darkness. Thus day after day and week after week they sought for the coveted white elephant which should ensure to those who found him the richest reward.

At length, on the very point of giving up their search in despair, they had turned their faces homeward, when all of a sudden a small, beautifully-formed elephant was seen at a distance, drinking. He was all muddy and dirty, and at first sight appeared darker than the ordinary color of this animal. But some peculiarity in the skin aroused hope. “Let us creep nearer and trap him,” they whispered. This was an easy task to such skilled native hunters. The iris of the eye, the color of which is held to be a good test of an albino, encouraged their faint expectation; it was a pale Neapolitan yellow.

One of them said, “We will take him home and give him a wash.” This was done, and to their great joy the whole body proved to be of a pale Bath-brick color, with a few real white hairs on the back. There could be no longer room for doubt; they had truly captured one of the world-renowned white elephants. Indeed, competent experts pronounced it to be the “fairest” ever caught within living memory. The ears and tail were beautiful; the hair, the nails, the eyes, all were indicative of the very highest family. He proved a pure albino, so-called “white.”

The whole kingdom was thrown into a state of the wildest excitement as the news spread east and west, north and south. Swift runners carried the glad tidings from hamlet to hamlet. “A white elephant has been captured!” was in every mouth. A fleet messenger bore the official document with the formal announcement down the river to Bangkok. The king loaded his ears with gold. Each person in any way connected with this great capture received some token of royal favor. The governor of the province was made a phya; the poor finders were loaded with honors and emoluments, at one step taking their places among the nobles of the kingdom and receiving royal gifts and grants of land. His Excellency the governor of one of the other provinces was despatched with a suite of high officials and attendants skilled in the management of elephants to escort this latest addition to the royal stables.

The date fixed for the actual reception of the royal stranger at the capital was June 21st, and will long remain a red-letter day in the Siamese annals. His Majesty, with his entire royal retinue, went up the river sixty miles to Ayuthia, the ancient capital of Siam, some days in advance, to meet the illustrious captive regarded as a palladium for his own life and the prosperity of the empire. In magnificently-adorned barges, escorting the noble beast to the capital with great parade, music and rejoicings, the brilliant procession returned.

THE WHITE ELEPHANT.

Very early in the day the whole city was astir. The most intense excitement prevailed. It was a great fête occasion. Old and young in holiday garb thronged the verandas of the floating houses in Bangkok. Crowds of country-folk from miles around flocked to the river, filling the wat-grounds or crouching on their haunches along the banks, waiting patiently for hours to catch a passing glimpse of the new white elephant.

The deep, wide river reflected the brilliancy of the blue sky overhead and the innumerable barges and boats gayly decorated with bunting; flags fluttered and gilt pagoda-spires glittered in the tropical sunlight above the mass of foliage and monotonous sloping roofs on either shore.

Near the palace-grounds, as the time drew near for the procession to approach, there was much running to and fro,—​officials on horseback galloping about, soldiers and marines in European uniforms drawn up along the sides of the road, many carrying streamers or flags. Several huge elephants in magnificent trappings, each bearing on his back a richly-ornamented howdah and guided by a gayly-dressed carnac, or driver, were brought down to the landing-place to meet the royal procession. Near the bank stood a group of priests and white-robed Brahmans with tall cone-shaped hats ornamented with broad gold bands. Princes in full state uniforms were carried in litters, preceded and followed by attendants bearing their insignia of official or social rank—​rods, seals, huge gilt umbrellas, betel-boxes, teapots, water-goblets and all the ordinary trappings of the Siamese grandee when he takes his walks or drives abroad.

The national air, played by a brass band, heralded the approach of the “conquering hero;” Siamese musicians performed with more noise than musical effect on tomtoms, conch-shells and other native instruments; heralds and chamberlains of the king’s body-guard preceded His Majesty, seated cross-legged in a richly-inlaid chair, beneath the huge royal umbrella. He wore a white India helmet, and numerous jeweled orders adorned the breast of his crimson-and-gold coat. Pages followed with gold betel-boxes and other costly articles. The highest grandees of the kingdom brought up the rear.

A temporary stable had been erected for this illustrious albino pachyderm just outside the palace-grounds. He was mounted on a platform, and his hind leg was attached by a rope to a white post. Here, after numerous washings by pouring over him tamarind-water to cleanse away all possible impurities, the new elephant was publicly baptized and received official title as a grandee of Siam; after which a high priest fed him with a piece of sugar-cane on which was written his new title in full: Phra Sawet Sakoula Warophat, etc., etc., this title including a long description of the great dignity, beauty, virtues and priceless value of the royal animal. He was then brought into the palace precincts and assigned a royal stable and numerous attendants, who serve him with the respect shown to royalty itself, and generally approach to feed and groom him on their hands and knees.

A recent visitor to Bangkok thus describes him in his present home: “One only of their number, the fifth and last one obtained, is of a faint brick-red over his entire body, which gives him an odd and not altogether unpleasant appearance. He is, moreover, young, lively and good-natured, and salaams by raising his trunk straight and high above his head to all well-dressed visitors in a way which quite scandalizes his keepers, who have taught all the others to reserve that salute solely for the king. Were he not himself too royal to be whipped, I dare say that this merry pachyderm might soon be taught to recognize the honor reserved to royalists. Time was when these beasts were duly worshiped by king and people; their stables were palaces; they were fed from golden dishes, and wore heavy gold rings upon their tusks and were fettered with golden chains. Even now the populace fall with their heads to the ground as they are led out richly caparisoned on state occasions, while the royal officers, and even the king himself, always make them obeisance in passing.”