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 The next day we continued our journey down the valley to Paro, and were met half-way by Rai Ugyen Kazi Bahadur, the Bhutanese Agent in India, who had been unable to accompany us, and had travelled from Chumbi viâ Hah. He was accompanied by representatives of the Paro Penlop, bringing scarves of welcome and murwa, as well as fresh mules and ponies for all the party. At Paro I was received by the Penlop and his newly married son, quite a lad, but I did not see his bride.

Paro-jong, one of the finest forts in Bhutan, which I have already described, had been burnt to the ground a few weeks previously, and was now a heap of blackened ruins, with only a few walls standing up gaunt and melancholy. Although the ruins were still smouldering, preparations for rebuilding had already commenced, and the débris was being removed and new timber collected, an arduous task in these hills, especially as enormous beams are used in all Bhutanese construction. They also use a quite unnecessary amount, and make their floors far too thick.

The rebuilding of such a fort is a very great tax on the people, and is generally borne by those close at hand, but in this case, by an arrangement of the Tongsa’s, the whole of Bhutan was contributing either in money or labour, thereby saving much hardship to the neighbouring villagers and expediting the work of reconstruction. It was rumoured that the Jong had been purposely set on fire, but I had no opportunity of finding out the truth, though a suspicious circumstance was that the Penlop was believed to have succeeded in saving his own property—no inconsiderable amount—while all Government property was destroyed. The Bhutanese estimated their loss at about 1½ lacs of rupees, or £12,000, and that it would take four years to rebuild the fort. There were flocks of pigeons flying about the ruins, and Hyslop and I did a little shooting.