Thanks to Mr. Gregory’s courier, the travellers found comfortable quarters in his own ancestral village, and here they were able to watch the inhabitants both at work and play.  They saw the oxen treading out grain, men working an oil mill, or caging fish; women weaving gay material, and children plaiting straw mats; so much for day-time occupations!  At nights there were songs, dancings, gamblings, and games; these included chess, played somewhat differently from what it is in Europe, but still the same chess as when it crossed the frontiers from China.  There was a king, but instead of a queen a general, instead of bishops, elephants; and some of the moves were unusual.

Mr. Gregory, who rather fancied himself as a chess-player, boldly challenged one of the elders and, with the entire village as solemn spectators, suffered, alas! a humiliating defeat.  Then Shafto took a hand at dominoes, at which, thanks to May Lee, he was an expert; fortunately he came off conqueror, and thus restored to some extent the credit of the party.  These games were played by torchlight, the local band—­harp, dulcimer, two drums and clappers—­discoursed at intervals; here the inhabitants, unlike those of Rangoon, were early birds.  By ten o’clock lights were extinguished, the crowd had dispersed, and a serene silence fell on the soft, purple night.

The College Don had thoroughly enjoyed this excursion into primitive life in Upper Burma; he also enjoyed the stimulating company of Miss Maitland; and in this delightful, highly coloured atmosphere, surrounded by agreeable companions, he fished, joked, flirted, and appeared to have shed his formal Oxford manner, along with his Oxford trencher and gown.  He remembered Shafto’s father and, on the strength of this memory, the two became excellent friends, and Shafto gave him assistance in the way of adjusting his puttees, helping him over awkward places, advising him what food to avoid and what insects to destroy.

The trip lasted for three weeks and the party returned to Rangoon delighted with their tour, and bringing with them quantities of snapshots, not a few small trophies and mementoes—­which included the great Shan hat, purchased by the Professor—­and amusing anecdotes of their varied adventures.

“I feel as if I’d had a bird’s-eye view of the real country,” said Sophy to her friend.  “Those great calm seas of green rice, bounded by dark woods, with a white pagoda peeping through here and there; the fierce strong rivers flowing through overhanging forests, and the deep red sunsets, turning old ruins into flames, and then the golden days and silver nights, and all the nice friendly simple people.  Douglas and I feel quite sad at the idea of saying good-bye to Burma.”

“Well, my clear, the matter lies in your own hands,” said Mrs. Gregory briskly, “and after you are married, you can return to Rangoon; there is a fine big empty house in Halpin Road; we might go over and inspect it some morning.”