The Silken East ba-
bank, and smoke with philosophic calm ; the lying Chittagonian sleeps and prays.
Turning away from here to the village, my eyes are drawn by the white, wide highway, past hayricks and plantain-groves and a monastery on a hill, to the lofty summit of Zway-kabyin and its one pagoda, perched like a lighthouse on its crest. At night, at this season,
the hill Karen set fire to the jungle near its top, and then there is a
a vii,I,.\(;k the whole w^ was
covered with water,
and the only survivors of the human race were in a ship afloat upon the deeps, they found a haven here at the summit of the great peak. And its majestic outline, its enormous form towering over the spaces at its feet, well fit it for the office that tradition, with poetic right, has assigned to it. A stream that is clear as crystal, and cold in the hottest weather, gushes out