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Updated: May 24, 2025
At Bhamo the river broadens into a lake again, something like what it is between Saigang and Mandalay beautiful enough to travel a long way to see. There is a little desert of sand between the water's edge and Bhamo, across it were trekking in single file Burmans, Shans, and Chinese, to and from our steamer with lines of ponies, with bales of merchandise on their pack saddles.
The river widens to two miles, and comes to us in a grand curve from the north and east. Mandalay is at the bend, some nine miles up. It is like a beautiful lake edged with a thread of sand a lake that Turner might have dreamed of. Above Saigang on our left are green woods, capped with white and gold minarets, with white stairs and terraces leading up to them.
The geese weighed five and a half pounds each, but they put on some three pounds before the end of the season, before they go north, possibly to some lake in the Himilayas or Western China, to breed. Barhead and grey lag geese are the two kinds commonly seen. At Saigang we fairly draw a breath with astonishment at the beauty of the panorama that opens before us.
The white Saigang pagodas on our left in the distance look like Scottish-baronial or French chateaux, embowered in foliage. Certainly, of my most pleasant recollections, this wide landscape, and all its light tints of mother-of-pearl, will remain one of the most delightful.
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