A MORNING WALK IN SIAM

Evening Star, Issue 23125, 26 November 1938, Page 19

A MORNING WALK IN SIAM

[Written by Ruby H. Foobd, for the 1 Evening Star.’] When I felt particularly defiant towards my position as housekeeper I left it to the cook’s imagination as to whether the daily fowl was to be boiled, roasted, fried, or curried, and, like a culprit, slipped out of the house and walked quickly until I was out of Ah Chin’s sight. i was pleased to make a successful get-away, and as 1 walked along 1 felt delightfully guilty of having evaded my most irksome duty. Anyway, the meal 1 would eat when I returned home would taste all the better by being somewhat of a surprise to me.

1 decided to walk to an open-cast tin mine, where some Chinese had a gravel pump at work. The track led past Siamese and Chinese houses, and I stopped for a while to admire crossstitch designs the Chinese women were working on bedspreads. Nang Sombron, a Siamese woman, stood winnowing rice in front of her house. She placed a large, round bamboo tray on the ground, and greeted me in. Siamese style. Then she resumed her work. What a pretty picture she made as she tossed the grain, and how happily she worked. Last week Nang Sombron’s husband had beaten her publicly for squandering money, and hero she was winnowing rice to cook for his supper, her beating forgotten. As 1 walked along ‘I pondered upon the obedience of the cave man’s wife compared with myself, who had sneaked off without ordering my lord’s dinner. Yes, there is a great deal in favour of primitive life—for the man. I saw my Chinese friend, Wong Kee, ahead of me on the track, and I hastened until I overtook him. Wong Kee was a grumbler, but a delightful one. V I am glad yon have recovered from your illness,” I said, by way of greeting. “ I am still sick,” he replied. “ I am hot in the head and cold in the body.” I expressed my sympathy. I have often been hot in the head myself. “ You should have stayed at home if you arc ill; your ‘ firewood coolies ’ are on contract, and don’t need supervising all the time.” “ That’s where you’re wrong,” he said. “ This morning the headman of the tillage came to tell me that my coolies had cut down a ‘ bee ’ tree, and I am to be fined for it. He says he will report me to the headman of the province. My coolies know better than cut down ‘ bee ’ trees. All the trees I am to fell are marked, and there are no ‘ bee ’ trees among them. I am going out to see about it.” I was sorry for Wong Kee, but sorrier for the ‘ bee ’ tree. These beautiful, tall trees with smooth grey trunks were not common in our jungle. For some reason the wild bees favoured these trees, and they are protected by the Forest Department. “ Don’t worry about it,” I said. “ You know how to fix the headman.”

“ I am to give him twenty bahts and a sack of ne'e. I’ll take it out of the coolies’ wages, and I’ll tell everybody that the headman had the tree cut down to get me into trouble.” He said this last sentence wrathfully. “ Be careful what you say about the headman, Wong Koe. ‘ A big tree casts a big shadow.’ I would not like to see you in trouble for telling lies.” “ I am a truthful man. All who know me know that I speak the truth, and he added philosophically, “ when a truthful man tells a lie, all who know him believe it to be the truth. But you must not do it often.” “ I suppose not,” I answered. “ Well, here is the track to the mine. Good-bye.” I made my way over a little hill and soon came to the mine. In an attap shed was housed a portable engine that was old, when “ Josephine ” was young. Daily she ate three cords of firewood, half of which she spewed out of her funnel in the shape of, big, hot embers. There is no boiler inspection in Siam; therefore no safety valve regulations. It was no uncommon sight to see the hand of the pressure gauge go twice around the dial. 1 was never brave enough to linger near the boiler. But the old pioneer was hard to kill, and would work as long as she had a wheel left. Day and night the engine drove the gravel pump, lifting water and gravel from the bottom of the mine 50ft below the surface to the boxes 30ft above the ground. Fifty feet below me I watched coolies lift out heavy stones and pieces of timber from the lighter gravel which was washed to the suction pipe of the gravel pump. Further up the creek a second engine pumped water to supply the monitor. The ground being washed was broken country, and big slips were frequent. Reliable coolies examined the surface for cracks, and when the danger signal was called the coolies down below dropped everything and rushed to safety. Once'l bad given the danger call myself, and I shall never forget my anxiety as I watched a solid wall of clay fall where the coolies had been working a few seconds before. In almost every open-cast mine I have seen in the East someone has pointed to a certain spot and stated the number of coolies that lie buried under a slip. The Chinese foreman came to tell me he was going to wash-up, so I climbed the ladder on to the boxes to watch this all-important part of mining. Streaming-down was just commencing, and wagers were being made as to the output. The ordinary coolies were doing rough work, such as throwing out stones; more expert ones did the cleaning of the tin. The box on which I sat was 7ft wide and 90ft long. It contained sand Ift in depth, and the washing-up would take about four hours. Ah Fat told me he expected two tons of tin. The coolies stirred the sand with long-handled hoes. The light stuff was washed overboard and the heavy tin ore remained. This ore would be put into tubs, lowered into bullock carts, and taken to the shed, where it would be washed, dried, and bagged. I watched a coolie work his bamboo spring scoop. He walked up and down the boxes scooping up any stones that had been caught there, This tined scoop is an ingenious Chinese invention, where the natural springiness of bamboo is put to the best advantage. Fastened to the mouth of the scoop is a loop of vine, which is held in the left hand, and the bamboo handle is held bent in the right hand. The tines of the scoop pick up the stones, the handle is loosened, and in straightening itself the stones are automatically thrown well away from the boxes. Sometimes interesting relics of bygone days were found in the wash-up. I have found round lumps of silver of different weights, currency of long ago. More interesting were flakes of flint, stone adzes, bark pounders, grinding slabs, and piece of cord-marked pottery. Superstitious Siamese said that the adzes were made by the gods and thrown down by them during thunder storms. Before I left the mine the foreman gave me a broken adze he had found. As I carried it home I wondered what

type of man had used this adze in the valley long years ago. Was he » wife-beater, like Nang Sombron’s husband? . When I arrived home the aromatio smell of curry made me realise that I was hungry. Good old cookie I - I shall not utter one word of reproach next time he roasts the corned beef or spreads raspberry jam on the tomato sandwiches.