"On the night of the 16th of March, the second day after our arrival, there was a _pwè_ (a posture dance) inside the Sawbwa's enclosure. Eight of our Panthay mule-drivers, who had been out searching for stray mules, went in after dark to buy cheroots at the usual bazaar. They were set on by the Sawbwa's men. Most of them escaped, but one man was seized, held with his face to the ground and shot in the back by the Sawbwa himself. He was then set free and went back to his camp. Two other shots were heard, and one of the Panthays has never since been seen. The Panthay camp was some distance away in the plain, and before I had got more than the excited account of one of the Panthays, who fled from the palace to our camp, I had demanded, next morning, an explanation from the Sawbwa, and the production of the man who had fired the revolver. I got no explanation, except that the Sawbwa had issued an order that none of our followers were to be allowed to go about in the town wearing arms. In a country where every male above six years wears a dagger, this was an absurdity. The order had not, moreover, been communicated to our people. I therefore demanded the surrender of the offender, and had issued this order before the Panthays managed to summon up courage enough to denounce the Sawbwa himself as the murderer. It was impossible to recede. It was necessary for British prestige and for our own personal safety to settle the case. Our followers expected to be massacred in their beds; the Sawbwa feared that he would be seized in his palace, and filled it with armed men. For two days the suspense was rather trying. I then announced that if my orders were not complied with, I would march down to the _haw_ the next day. This brought up the Tawpaya and several other ministers, with a petition that I would decide the case as it stood. They produced no witnesses, and did not deny that the Sawbwa was the offender. I therefore sentenced him to pay Rs. 500 compensation to the wounded man and Rs. 1,500 if the missing man was not produced within five days alive and well. This sentence, I informed them, was a concession to the low state of their civilization and the ignorance of the Sawbwa. The Rs. 500 were paid a couple of hours afterwards, and the Rs. 1,500 a few days before we left.