of the passengers. Forward and aft stood
the rowers, sixty in number, ranged on either
side. They rowed standing, and at each
stroke of the paddle the sixty gave a stamp
on the deck with one foot. The steersman
occasionally varied the performance by uttering,
in a high key, a prolonged yell, to which
the other fifty-nine responded by a short
sharp bark. Only kings and nobles have
the right, in Siam, to indulge in howling
boatmen.

For the first quarter of an hour we were
amused by our new friends; but, as we
proceeded, and the hours wore on, the natural
effect was produced by such continued howling
and stamping on our wearied nerves and
aching heads. When, however, at our
request, the boatmen left it off, they also
relaxed in their pulling, so that we, finding
their exertions to depend upon the noise,
submitted to the renewal of it; and, for ten
mortal hours—the greater number of them
endured under a burning sun—we submitted
to be yelled and barked over.

At its mouth, the river may be about a
mile and a-half in width, but it gradually
narrows; and at Packnam, a military station
about ten miles up, the distance across can
scarcely be more than three-quarters of a
mile. Here the scenery becomes charming.
In the centre of the stream is an island, on
which is a temple prettily decorated, gleaming
like a pearl in its bright-green setting;
while, on either side, are formidable-looking
fortifications, which increase the picturesque
effect. The interior of these fortifications is,
however, so dilapidated, that they could not
be made available as they now stand. The
banks of the river are perfectly flat, and
covered with jungle to the water's edge.
Near the mouth, this jungle is composed of
mangrove trees; but, a few miles higher up,
the vegetation improves, and the eye is
relieved by a great variety of foliage. The
bread-fruit tree and cocoa-nut palm are the
most numerous; the one, with its large,
curiously indented leaf, offers a tempting
shade from the glare of a tropical sun, while
the other, with its feathery crown, towers
aloft over its companions in the forest. The
graceful bamboo, in all its beautiful varieties,
also fixes the attention—seen at one time in
short full clumps, then again with its drooping
branches and long stem of lance-like
leaves quivering in the breeze; the peculiar
beauty of the picture is much enhanced by
the variety and richness of tints of an eastern
sky glittering in the sunlight.

Settled at the Siamese capital, the city of
Bangkok, the fact of there being absolutely
no roads, is certainly the one most
immediately brought home, as I experienced ere I
had been many hours established in my new
abode.

"Boy, you must fetch some chickens,
eggs!"

With many such orders, and a few oddly-
shaped coins, the boy departed, only to return,
however, in distress.

"Missis, how can go? No got boat; me
no can walkee." This unforeseen difficulty
obliged me at once to apply to my nearest
neighbour for advice. The necessity of
establishing a market-boat as a first step in
housekeeping became evident.

This boat is very small, being, indeed,
calculated to hold only one human being, and
about a dozen chickens. At every turn,
occurs the same wayfaring difficulty. Do
you long for a chat with your next door
neighbour (next door, but for a creek with
no bridge across), you must needs order the
boat, manned with eight, ten, or twelve men,
or stay at home.

The markets consist of a number of boats
moored together in certain quarters, each
displaying its commodity. The floating
houses line either side of the river for five
miles, and they line, also, numerous creeks
that branch off in every direction.

Bamboos lashed firmly together, form a
substantial raft, some four or five feet in
thickness, with a platform of from fifteen feet
to twenty square. On this is built the house
either of bamboos or thin planks. If the
structure be intended for a shop, the front is
left open, and the wares arranged on benches
and shelves, are exposed to the public view.
If it be a dwelling-house, it is closed in, and
surrounded by a verandah. The raft is
secured to the shore by ropes and chains,
or it is fixed to beams anchored in the
bed of the river. These latter have been
known to give way when the tide has been
unusually strong; and, in that case, the house
of course, floats down the stream. A casualty
of this nature occurred to a gentleman who
told me his adventure. He had retired for
the night, and was suddenly awakened by a
rushing sound. On leaving his room, he
found that the moorings of his domicile had
given way, and a strong tide was bearing his
house merrily towards the sea. Assistance
was, with some trouble, procured, and the
establishment again firmly tied to the shore,
though at some distance from its former
anchorage. Notwithstanding such risk,
missionaries who had tried these houses told me,
they were not unpleasant residences. Most
of them are shops, inhabited by emigrant
Chinese. Should a shopkeeper think that
by removing to another situation he can
benefit his business, he has only to unlash his
moorings, and work up or down the river,
until settled to his mind. The water-houses
pay rent for the portion of the stream they
occupy.

The river being thus the chief highway,
boats of course abound; boats of all kinds,
from the small market-boat, paddled by a
little boy or girl, to the canoe of the noble,
who, reposing at full length under the
canopy, smokes, and chews betel, while his
forty or fifty rowers vigorously move him