blue ribbon of water, followed by alluvial flats left bare by the falling river. They are green now, with red patches where fields are being sown. Here and there on their vast surface, a hamlet, lifted a fraction above the water-level, maintains its insignificant existence. Beyond lies the main volume of the river under the mighty plain of Pagan. Its dark and white pagodas rise up, each one clearly visible ; and from here, if anywhere, one may form a just estimate of the greatness of the ancient city. The Tawni hills beyond make a red ruffled line across the plain, and above them, in the extreme east, there towers volcanic Popa, whose great size can only be justly gauged from a neighbour such as this. The hills of Mingyan and Monywa appear on the northern horizon, where the river in loops reaches away into misty space.
As the sun sets, the pagoda-crowned peak sends it mighty shadow over the plain, and the spires of the dead city flame for the last time in the fading light. In the west, the crumpled hills reach away over low undulating lands to the meridian chains of the Yoma Daung, and the still loftier summit of Mount Victoria, ten thousand feet above the sea. The Yaw river makes its way through the landscape, a river of gold in the flooding sunset.
Stone umbrellas fixed upon the backs of elephants ornament the platform of the pagoda, bells hang there from carved posts, flamboyant roofs surmount the southern stairs ; under the dark tazoungs there are colossal monk's-bowls of grey marble ; a stone