Himalayan Journals — Volume 1
Or, Notes of a Naturalist in Bengal, the Sikkim and Nepal Himalayas, the Khasia Mountains, etc. (2024)

Scanned by Derek Thompson drthom@ihug.co.nz

HIMALAYAN JOURNALS
or
NOTES OF A NATURALIST

IN BENGAL, THE SIKKIM AND NEPAL HIMALAYAS,
THE KHASIA MOUNTAINS, etc.

JOSEPH DALTON HOOKER, M.D., R.N., F.R.S.

Volume I

First published 1854

To CHARLES DARWIN, F.R.S., etc.
These volumes are dedicated,
by his affectionate friend,
J.D. HOOKER
Kew, Jan. 12th, 1854

————————————-

PREFACE

HAVING accompanied Sir James Boss on his voyage of discovery to theAntarctic regions, where botany was my chief pursuit, on my return Iearnestly desired to add to my acquaintance with the natural historyof the temperate zones, more knowledge of that of the tropics than Ibad hitherto had the opportunity of acquiring. My choice lay betweenIndia and the Andes, and I decided upon the former, being principallyinfluenced by Dr. Falconer, who promised me every assistance whichhis position as Superintendent of the H.E.I.C. Botanic Garden atCalcutta, would enable hum to give. He also drew my attention to thefact that we were ignorant even of the geography of the central andeastern parts of these mountains, while all to the north was involvedin a mystery equally attractive to the traveller and the naturalist.

On hearing of the kind interest taken by Baron Humboldt in myproposed travels, and at the request of my father (Sir WilliamHooker), the Earl of Carlisle (then Chief Commissioner of Woods andForests) undertook to represent to Her Majesty's Government theexpediency of securing my collections for the Royal Gardens at Kew;and owing to the generous exertions of that nobleman, and of the lateEarl of Auckland (then First Lord of the Admiralty), my journeyassumed the character of a Government mission, £400 per annum beinggranted by the Treasury for two years.

I did not contemplate proceeding beyond the Himalaya and Tibet, whenLord Auckland desired that I should afterwards visit Borneo, for thepurpose of reporting on the capabilities of Labuan, with reference tothe cultivation of cotton, tobacco, sugar, indigo, spices,guttapercha, etc. To this end a commission in the navy (to whichservice I was already attached) was given me, such instructions weredrawn up as might facilitate my movements in the East, and a suitablesum of money was placed at my disposal.

Soon after leaving England, my plans became, from various causes,altered. The Earl of Auckland* [It is with a melancholy satisfactionthat I here record the intentions of that enlightened nobleman.The idea of turning to public account what was intended as ascientific voyage, occurred to his lordship when considering myapplication for official leave to proceed to India; and from the hourof my accepting the Borneo commission with which he honoured me, hedisplayed the most active zeal in promoting its fulfilment.He communicated to me his views as to the direction in which I shouldpursue my researches, furnished me with official and otherinformation, and provided me with introductions of the most essentialuse.] was dead; the interest in Borneo had in a great measuresubsided; H.M.S. "Maeander," to which I had been attached for servicein Labuan, had left the Archipelago; reports of the unhealthy natureof the coast had excited alarm; and the results of my researches inthe Himalaya had proved of more interest and advantage than had beenanticipated. It was hence thought expedient to cancel the Borneoappointment, and to prolong my services for a third year in India;for which purpose a grant of £300 (originally intended for defrayingthe expense of collecting only, in Borneo) was transferred as salaryfor the additional year to be spent in the Himalaya.

The portion of the Himalaya best worth exploring, was selected for meboth by Lord Auckland and Dr. Falconer, who independently recommendedSikkim, as being ground untrodden by traveller or naturalist.Its ruler was, moreover, all but a dependant of the Britishgovernment, and it was supposed, would therefore be glad tofacilitate my researches.

No part of the snowy Himalaya eastward of the northwest extremity ofthe British possessions had been visited since Turner's embassy toTibet in 1789; and hence it was highly important to explorescientifically a part of the chain which, from its central position,might be presumed to be typical of the whole range. The possibilityof visiting Tibet, and of ascertaining particulars respecting thegreat mountain Chumulari,* [My earliest recollections in reading areof "Turner's Travels in Tibet," and of "Cook's Voyages." The accountof Lama worship and of Chumulari in the one, and of Kerguelen's Landin the other, always took a strong hold on my fancy. It is,therefore, singular that Kerguelen's Land should have been the firststrange country I ever visited (now fourteen years ago), and that inthe first King's ship which has touched there since Cook's voyage,and whilst following the track of that illustrious navigator in southpolar discovery. At a later period I have been nearly the firstEuropean who has approached Chumulari since Turner's embassy.] whichwas only known from Turner's account, were additional inducements toa student of physical geography; but it was not then known thatKinchinjunga, the loftiest known mountain on the globe, was situatedon my route, and formed a principal feature in the physical geographyof Sikkim.

My passage to Egypt was provided by the Admiralty in H.M.steam-vessel "Sidon," destined to convey the Marquis of Dalhousie,Governor-General of India, thus far on his way. On his arrival inEgypt, his Lordship did me the honour of desiring me to considermyself in the position of one of his suite, for the remainder of thevoyage, which was performed in the "Moozuffer," a steam frigatebelonging to the Indian Navy. My obligations to this nobleman hadcommenced before leaving England, by his promising me every facilityhe could command; and he thus took the earliest opportunity ofaffording it, by giving me such a position near himself as ensured methe best reception everywhere; no other introduction being needed.His Lordship procured my admission into Sikkim, and honoured methroughout my travels with the kindest encouragement.

During the passage out, some days were spent in Egypt, at Aden,Ceylon, and Madras. I have not thought it necessary to give here theobservations made in those well-known countries; they are detailed ina series of letters published in the "London Journal of Botany," aswritten for my private friends. Arriving at Calcutta in January, Ipassed the remainder of the cold season in making myself acquaintedwith the vegetation of the plains and hills of Western Bengal, southof the Ganges, by a journey across the mountains of Birbhoom andBehar to the Soane valley, and thence over the Vindhya range to theGanges, at Mirzapore, whence I descended that stream to Bhaugulpore;and leaving my boat, struck north to the Sikkim Himalaya. Thisexcursion is detailed in the "London Journal of Botany," and theAsiatic Society of Bengal honoured me by printing the meteorologicalobservations made during its progress.

During the two years' residence in Sikkim which succeeded, I was laidunder obligations of no ordinary nature to Brian H. Hodgson, Esq.,B.C.S., for many years Resident at the Nepal Court; whose guest Ibecame for several months. Mr. Hodgson's high position as a man ofscience requires no mention here; but the difficulties he overcame,and the sacrifices he made, in attaining that position, are known tofew. He entered the wilds of Nepal when very young, and inindifferent health; and finding time to spare, cast about for thebest method of employing it: he had no one to recommend or direct apursuit, no example to follow, no rival to equal or surpass; he hadnever been acquainted with a scientific man, and knew nothing ofscience except the name. The natural history of men and animals, inits most comprehensive sense, attracted his attention; he sent toEurope for books, and commenced the study of ethnology and zoology.His labours have now extended over upwards of twenty-five years'residence in the Himalaya. During this period he has seldom had astaff of less than from ten to twenty persons (often many more), ofvarious tongues and races, employed as translators and collectors,artists, shooters, and stuffers. By unceasing exertions and aprincely liberality, Mr. Hodgson has unveiled the mysteries of theBoodhist religion, chronicled the affinities, languages, customs, andfaiths of the Himalayan tribes; and completed a natural history ofthe animals and birds of these regions. His collections of specimensare immense, and are illustrated by drawings and descriptions takenfrom life, with remarks on the anatomy,* [In this department heavailed himself of the services of Dr. Campbell, who was alsoattached to the Residency at Nepal, as surgeon and assistantpolitical agent.] habits, and localities of the animals themselves.Twenty volumes of the Journals, and the Museum of the Asiatic Societyof Bengal, teem with the proofs of his indefatigable zeal; andthroughout the cabinets of the bird and quadruped departments of ournational museum, Mr. Hodgson's name stands pre-eminent. A seat in theInstitute of France, and the cross of the Legion of Honour, prove theestimation in which his Boodhist studies are held on the continent ofEurope. To be welcomed to the Himalaya by such a person, and to beallowed the most unreserved intercourse, and the advantage of all hisinformation and library, exercised a material influence on theprogress I made in my studies, and on my travels. When I add thatmany of the subjects treated of in these volumes were discussedbetween us, it will be evident that it is impossible for me to divestmuch of the information thus insensibly obtained, of the appearanceof being the fruits of my own research.

Dr. Campbell, the Superintendent of Dorjiling, is likewise theGovernor-General's agent, or medium of communication between theBritish Government and the Sikkim Rajah; and as such, invested withmany discretionary powers. In the course of this narrative, I shallgive a sketch of the rise, progress, and prospects of the Sanatarium,or Health-station of Dorjiling, and of the anomalous position held bythe Sikkim Rajah. The latter circ*mstance led indirectly to thedetention of Dr. Campbell (who joined me in one of my journeys) andmyself, by a faction of the Sikkim court, for the purpose ofobtaining from the Indian Government a more favourable treaty thanthat then existing. This mode of enforcing a request by douceviolence and detention, is common with the turbulent tribes eastof Nepal, but was in this instance aggravated by violence towards myfellow-prisoner, through the ill will of the persons who executed theorders of their superiors, and who had been punished by Dr. Campbellfor crimes committed against both the British and Nepalesegovernments. The circ*mstances of this outrage were misunderstood atthe time; its instigators were supposed to be Chinese; itsperpetrators Tibetans; and we the offenders were assumed to havethrust ourselves into the country, without authority from our owngovernment, and contrary to the will of the Sikkim Rajah; who wasimagined to be a tributary of China, and protected by that nation,and to be under no obligation to the East Indian government.

With regard to the obligations I owe to Dr. Campbell, I confinemyself to saying that his whole aim was to promote my comfort, and tosecure my success, in all possible ways. Every object I had in viewwas as sedulously cared for by him as by myself: I am indebted to hisinfluence with Jung Bahadoor* [It was in Nepal that Dr. Campbellgained the friendship of Jung Bahadoor, the most remarkable proof ofwhich is the acceding to his request, and granting me leave to visitthe eastern parts of his dominions; no European that I am aware of,having been allowed, either before or since, to travel anywhereexcept to and from the plains of India and valley of Katmandu, inwhich the capital city and British residency are situated.] for thepermission to traverse his dominions, and to visit the Tibetan passesof Nepal. His prudence and patience in negotiating with the Sikkimcourt, enabled me to pursue my investigations in that country. Myjournal is largely indebted to his varied and extensive knowledge ofthe people and productions of these regions.

In all numerical calculations connected with my observations, Ireceived most essential aid from John Muller, Esq., Accountant of theCalcutta Mint, and from his brother, Charles Muller, Esq., of Patna,both ardent amateurs in scientific pursuits, and who employedthemselves in making meteorological observations at Dorjiling, wherethey were recruiting constitutions impaired by the performance ofarduous duties in the climate of the plains. I cannot sufficientlythank these gentlemen for the handsome manner in which theyvolunteered me their assistance in these laborious operations.Mr. J. Muller resided at Dorjiling during eighteen months of my stayin Sikkim, over the whole of which period his generous zeal in myservice never relaxed; he assisted me in the reduction of manyhundreds of my observations for latitude, time, and elevation,besides adjusting and rating my instruments; and I can recall no morepleasant days than those thus spent with these hospitable friends.

Thanks to Dr. Falconer's indefatigable exertions, such of mycollections as reached Calcutta were forwarded to England inexcellent order; and they were temporarily deposited in Kew Gardensuntil their destination should be determined. On my return home, myscientific friends interested themselves in procuring from theGovernment such aid as might enable me to devote the necessary timeto the arrangement, naming, and distributing of my collections, thepublication of my manuscripts, etc. I am in this most deeply indebtedto the disinterested and generous exertions of Mr. L. Horner, SirCharles Lyell, Dr. Lindley, Professor E. Forbes, and many others; andmost especially to the Presidents of the Royal Society (the Earl ofRosse), of the Linnean (Mr. R. Brown), and Geological (Mr. Hopkins),who in their official capacities memorialized in person the ChiefCommissioner of Woods and Forests on this subject; Sir William Hookerat the same time bringing it under the notice of the First Lord ofthe Treasury. The result was a grant of £400 annually for three years.

Dr. T. Thomson joined me in Dorjiling in the end of 1849, after thecompletion of his arduous journeys in the North-West Himalaya andTibet, and we spent the year 1850 in travelling and collecting,returning to England together in 1851. Having obtained permissionfrom the Indian Government to distribute his botanical collections,which equal my own in extent and value, we were advised by all ourbotanical friends to incorporate, and thus to distribute them. Thewhole constitute an Herbarium of from 6000 to 7000 species of Indianplants, including an immense number of duplicates; and it is now inprocess of being arranged and named, by Dr. Thomson and myself,preparatory to its distribution amongst sixty of the principal publicand private herbaria in Europe, India, and the United Statesof America.

For the information of future travellers, I may state that the totalexpense of my Indian journey, including outfit, three years and ahalf travelling, and the sending of my collections to Calcutta, wasunder £2000 (of which £1200 were defrayed by government), but wouldhave come to much more, had I not enjoyed the great advantages I havedetailed. This sum does not include the purchase of books andinstruments, with which I supplied myself, and which cost about £200,nor the freight of the collections to England, which was paid byGovernment. Owing to the kind services of Mr. J. C. Melvill,Secretary of the India House, many small parcels of seeds, etc., wereconveyed to England, free of cost; and I have to record my greatobligations and sincere thanks to the Peninsular and Oriental SteamNavigation Company, for conveying, without charge, all small parcelsof books, instruments and specimens, addressed to or by myself.

It remains to say something of the illustrations of this work.The maps are from surveys of my own, made chiefly with my owninstruments, but partly with some valuable ones for the use of whichI am indebted to my friend Captain H. Thuillier, DeputySurveyor-General of India, who placed at my disposal the resources ofthe magnificent establishment under his control, and to whoseinnumerable good offices I am very greatly beholden.

The landscapes, etc. have been prepared chiefly from my own drawings,and will, I hope, be found to be tolerably faithful representationsof the scenes. I have always endeavoured to overcome that tendency toexaggerate heights, and increase the angle of slopes, which is Ibelieve the besetting sin, not of amateurs only, but of our mostaccomplished artists. As, however, I did not use instruments inprojecting the outlines, I do not pretend to have wholly avoided thissnare; nor, I regret to say; has the lithographer, in all cases, beencontent to abide by his copy. My drawings will be considered tamecompared with most mountain landscapes, though the subjects comprisesome of the grandest scenes in nature. Considering how conventionalthe treatment of such subjects is, and how unanimous artists seem tobe as to the propriety of exaggerating those features which shouldpredominate in the landscape, it may fairly be doubted whether thetotal effect of steepness and elevation, especially in a mountainview, can, on a small scale, be conveyed by a strict adherence totruth. I need hardly add, that if such is attainable, it is only bythose who have a power of colouring that few pretend to. In the listof plates and woodcuts I have mentioned the obligations I am under toseveral friends for the use of drawings, etc.

With regard to the spelling of native names, after much anxiousdiscussion I have adopted that which assimilates most to the Englishpronunciation. For great assistance in this, for a careful revisionof the sheets as they passed through the press, and for numerousvaluable suggestions throughout, I am indebted to myfellow-traveller, Dr. Thomas Thomson.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

Sunderbunds vegetation — Calcutta Botanic Garden — Leave forBurdwan — Rajah's gardens and menagerie — Coal-beds, geology, andplants of — Lac insect and plant — Camels — Kunker — Cowage —Effloresced soda on soil — Glass, manufacture of — Atmosphericvapours — Temperature, etc. — Mahowa oil and spirits — Maddaobund— Jains — Ascent of Paras-nath — Vegetation of that mountain.

CHAPTER II.

Doomree — Vegetation of table-land — Lieutenant Beadle — Birds —Hot springs of Soorujkoond — Plants near them — Shells in them —Cholera-tree — Olibanum — Palms, form of — Dunwah pass — Trees,native and planted — Wild peaco*ck — Poppy fields — Geography andgeology of Behar and Central India — Toddy-palm — Ground,temperature of — Baroon — Temperature of plants — Lizard — Crossthe Soane — Sand, ripple-marks on — Kymore hills — Ground,temperature of — Limestone — Rotas fort and palace — Nitrate oflime — Change of climate — Lime stalagmites, enclosing leaves —Fall of Soane — Spiders, etc. — Scenery and natural history ofupper Soane valley — Hardwickia binata — Bhel fruit —Dust-storm — Alligator — Catechu — Cochlospermum —Leaf-bellows — Scorpions — Tortoises — Florican — Limestonespheres — Coles — Tiger-hunt — Robbery.

CHAPTER III.

Ek-powa Ghat — Sandstones — Shahgunj — Table-land, elevation, etc.
— Gum-arabic — Mango — Fair — Aquatic plants — Rujubbund —
Storm — False sunset and sunrise — Bind hills — Mirzapore —
Manufactures, imports, etc. — Climate — Thuggee — Chunar —
Benares — Mosque — Observatory — Sar-nath — Ghazeepore —
Rose-gardens — Manufactory of attar — Lord Cornwallis' tomb —
Ganges, scenery and natural history of — Pelicans — Vegetation —
Insects — Dinapore — Patna — Opium godowns and manufacture —
Mudar, white and purple — Monghyr islets — Hot springs of
Seetakoond — Alluvium of Ganges — Rocks of Sultun-gunj —
Bhaugulpore — Temples of Mt. Manden — Coles and native tribes —
Bhaugulpore rangers — Horticultural gardens.

CHAPTER IV.

Leave Bhaugulpore — Kunker — Colgong — Himalaya, distant view of
— Cosi, mouth of — Difficult navigation — Sand-storms —
Caragola-Ghat — Purnea — Ortolans — Mahanuddy, transport of
pebbles, etc. — Betel-pepper, cultivation of — Titalya — Siligoree
— View of outer Himalaya — Terai — Mechis — Punkabaree — Foot of
mountains — Ascent to Dorjiling — Cicadas — Leeches — Animals —
Kursiong, spring vegetation of — Pacheem — Arrive at Dorjiling —
Dorjiling, origin and settlement of — Grant of land from Rajah —
Dr. Campbell appointed superintendent — Dewan, late and present —
Aggressive conduct of the latter — Increase of the station — Trade
— Titalya fair — Healthy climate for Europeans and children —
Invalids, diseases prejudicial to.

CHAPTER V.

View from Mr. Hodgson's of range of snowy mountains — Their extentand elevation — Delusive appearance of elevation — Sinchul, viewfrom and vegetation of — Chumulari — Magnolias, white and purple —Rhododendron Dalhousiae, arboreum and argentium — Natives ofDorjiling — Lepchas, origin, tradition of flood, morals, dress,arms, ornaments, diet — Cups, origin and value — Marriages —Diseases — Burial — Worship and religion — Bijooas — Kumpa Rong,or Arrat — Limboos, origin, habits, language, etc. — Moormis —Magras — Mechis — Comparison of customs with those of the nativesof Assam, Khasia, etc.

CHAPTER VI.

Excursion from Dorjiling to Great Rungeet — Zones of vegetation —Tree-ferns — Palms, upper limit of — Leebong, tea plantations —Ging — Boodhist remains — Tropical vegetation — Pines — Lepchaclearances — Forest fires — Boodhist monuments — Fig —Cane-bridge and raft over Rungeet — Sago-palm — India-rubber — YelPote — Butterflies and other insects — Snakes — Camp —Temperature and humidity of atmosphere — Junction of Teesta andRungeet — Return to Dorjiling — Tonglo, excursion to — Bamboo,flowering — Oaks — Gordonia — Maize, hermaphrodite flowered— Figs — Nettles — Peepsa — Simonbong, cultivation at — Europeanfruits at Dorjiling-Plains of India.

CHAPTER VII.

Continue the ascent of Tonglo — Trees — Lepcha construction of hut— Simsibong — Climbing-trees — Frogs — Magnolias, etc. — Ticks— Leeches — Cattle, murrain amongst — Summit of Tonglo —Rhododendrons — Skimmia — Yew — Rose — Aconite — Bikhpoison — English genera of plants — Ascent of tropical orders —Comparison with south temperate zone — Heavy rain — Temperature,etc. — Descent — Simonbong temple — Furniture therein —Praying-cylinder — Thigh-bone trumpet — Morning orisons — Presentof Murwa beer, etc.

CHAPTER VIII.

Difficulty in procuring leave to enter Sikkim — Obtain permission totravel in East Nepal — Arrangements — Coolies — Stores — Servants— Personal equipment — Mode of travelling — Leave Dorjiling —Goong ridge — Behaviour of Bhotan coolies — Nepal frontier — Myongvalley — Ilam — Sikkim massacre — Cultivation — Nettles — Campat Nanki on Tonglo — Bhotan coolies run away — View of Chumulari —Nepal peaks to west — Sakkiazong — Buceros — Road toWallanchoon — Oaks — Scarcity of water — Singular view ofmountain-valleys — Encampment — My tent and its furniture —Evening occupations — Dunkotah-Cross ridge of Sakkiazong — Yews —Silver-firs-View of Tambur valley — Pemmi river — Pebbly terraces— Geology — Holy springs — Enormous trees — Luculiagratissima — Khawa river, rocks of — Arrive at Tambur —Shingle and gravel terraces — Natives, indolence of — Canoe ferry— Votive offerings — Bad road — Temperature, etc. — Chingtamvillage, view from — Mywa river and Guola — House — Boulders —Chain-bridge — Meepo, arrival of — Fevers.

CHAPTER IX.

Leave Mywa — Suspension bridge — Landslips — Vegetation — Slopeof river-bed — Bees' nests — Glacial phenomena — Tibetans,clothing, ornaments, amulets, salutation, children, dogs — LastLimboo village, Taptiatok — Beautiful scenery — Tibet village ofLelyp — Opuntia — Edgeworthia — Crab-apple — Chameleon andporcupine — Praying-machine — Abies Brunoniana — Europeanplants — Grand scenery — Arrive at Wallanchoon — Scenery around —Trees — Tibet houses — Manis and Mendongs — Tibet household —Food — Tea-soup — Hospitality — Yaks and Zobo, uses and habits of— Bhoteeas — Yak-hair tents — Guobah of Walloong — Jatamansi —Obstacles to proceeding-Climate and weather — Proceed —Rhododendrons, etc. — Lichens — Poa annua and Shepherd'spurse — Tibet camp — Tuquoroma — Scenery of pass — Glaciers andsnow — Summit — Plants, woolly, etc.

CHAPTER X.

Return from Wallanchoon pass — Procure a bazaar at village — Danceof Lamas — Blackening face, Tibetan custom of — Temple and convent— Leave for Kanglachem pass — Send part of party back to Dorjiling— Yangma Guola — Drunken Tibetans — Guobah of Wallanchoon — Campat foot of Great Moraine — View from top — Geological speculations— Height of moraines — Cross dry lake-bed — Glaciers — Moremoraines — Terraces — Yangma temples — Jos, books and furniture —Peak of Nango — Lake — Arrive at village — Cultivation — Scenery— Potatos — State of my provisions — Pass through village —Gigantic boulders — Terraces — Wild sheep — Lake-beds — Sun'spower — Piles of gravel and detritus — Glaciers and moraines —Pabuk, elevation of — Moonlight scene — Return to Yangma —Temperature, etc. — Geological causes of phenomena in valley —Scenery of valley on descent.

CHAPTER XI.

Ascend to Nango mountain — Moraines — Glaciers — Vegetation —Rhododendron Hodgsoni — Rocks — Honey-combed surface of snow— Perpetual snow — Top of pass — View — Elevation — Geology —Distance of sound — Plants — Temperature — Scenery — Cliffs ofgranite and hurled boulders — Camp — Descent — Pheasants — Larch— Himalayan pines — Distribution of Deodar, note on —Tassichooding temples — Kambachen village — Cultivation — Morainesin valley, distribution of — Picturesque lake-beds, and theirvegetation — Tibetan sheep and goats — Cryptogramma crispa— Ascent to Choonjerma pass — View of Junnoo — Rocks of its summit— Misty ocean — Nepal peaks — Top of pass — Temperature, andobservations — Gorgeous sunset — Descent to Yalloong valley —Loose path — Night scenes — Musk deer.

CHAPTER XII.

Yalloong valley — Find Kanglanamo pass closed — Change route forthe southward — Picrorhiza — View of Kubra —Rhododendron Falconeri — Yalloong river — Junction of gneissand clay-slate — Cross Yalloong range — Yiew — Descent — Yew —Vegetation — Misty weather — Tongdam village — Khabang — Tropicalvegetation — Sidingbah mountain — View of Kinchinjunga —Yangyading village — Slopes of hills, and courses of rivers —Khabili valley — Ghorkha Havildar's bad conduct — Ascend Singalelah— Plague of ticks — Short commons — Cross Islumbo pass — Boundaryof Sikkim — Kulhait valley — Lingcham — Reception by Kajee — Hearof Dr. Campbell's going to meet Rajah — Views in valley — Leave forTeesta river — Tipsy Kajee — Hospitality — Murwa beer — Temples— Acorus Calamus — Long Mendong — Burning of dead —Superstitions — Cross Great Rungeet — Boulders, origin of —Purchase of a dog — Marshes — Lamas — Dismiss Ghorkhas — Bhoteeahouse — Murwa beer.

CHAPTER XIII.

Raklang pass — Uses of nettles — Edible plants — Lepcha war —
Do-mani stone — Neongong — Teesta valley — Pony, saddle, etc. —
Meet Campbell — Vegetation and scenery — Presents — Visit of Dewan
— Characters of Rajah and Dewan — Accounts of Tibet — Lhassa —
Siling — Tricks of Dewan — Walk up Teesta — Audience of Rajah —
Lamas — Kajees — Tchebu Lama, his character and position — Effects
of interview — Heir-apparent — Dewan's house — Guitar — Weather
— Fall of river — Tibet officers — Gigantic trees — Neongong lake
— Mainom, ascent of — Vegetation — Camp on snow — Silver-firs —
View from top — Kinchin, etc. — Geology — Vapours — Sunset effect
— Elevation — Temperature, etc. — Lamas of Neongong — Temples —
Religious festival Bamboo, flowering — Recross pass of Raklang —
Numerous temples, villages, etc. — Domestic animals — Descent to
Great Rungeet.

CHAPTER XIV.

Tassiding, view of and from — Funereal cypress — Camp at Sunnook —Hot vapours — Lama's house — Temples, decorations, altars, idols,general effect — Chaits — Date of erection — Plundered by Ghorkas— Cross Ratong — Ascend to Pemiongehi — Relation of river-beds tostrike of rocks — Slopes of ravines — Pemiongehi, view of —Vegetation — Elevation — Temple, decorations, etc. — Formercapital of Sikkim — History of Sikkim — Nightingales — Campbelldeparts — Tchonpong — Edgeworthia — Cross Rungbee andRatong — Hoar-frost on plantains — Yoksun — Walnuts — View —Funereal cypresses — Doobdi — Gigantic cypresses — Temples —Snow-fall — Sikkim, etc. — Toys.

CHAPTER XV.

Leave Yoksun for Kinchinjunga — Ascend Ratong valley —
Salt-smuggling over Ratong — Landslips — Plants — Buckeem —
Blocks of gneiss — Mon Lepcha — View — Weather — View from Gubroo
— Kinchinjunga, tops of — Pundimcliff — Nursing — Vegetation of
Himalaya — Coup d'oeil of Jongri — Route to Yalloong — Arduous
route of salt-traders from Tibet — Kinchin, ascent of — Lichens —
Surfaces sculptured by snow and ice — Weather at Jongri — Snow —
Shades for eyes.

CHAPTER XVI.

Ratong river below Mon Lepcha — Ferns — Vegetation of Yoksun,
tropical — Araliaceae, fodder for cattle — Rice-paper plant
— Geology of Yoksun — Lake — Old temples — Funereal cypresses —
Gigantic chart — Altars — Songboom — Weather — Catsuperri —
Velocity of Ratong — Worship at Catsuperri lake — Scenery — Willow
— Lamas and ecclesiastical establishments of Sikkim — Tengling —
Changachelling temples and monks — Portrait of myself on walls —
Block of mica-schist — Lingcham Kajee asks for spectacles —
Hee-hill — Arrive at Little Rungeet — At Dorjiling — Its deserted
and wintry appearance.

CHAPTER XVII.

Dispatch collections — Acorns — Heat — Punkabaree — Bees —Vegetation — Haze — Titalya — Earthquake — Proceed to Nepalfrontier — Terai, geology of — Physical features of Himalayanvalleys — Elephants, purchase of, etc. — River-beds — Mechi river— Return to Titalya — Leave for Teesta — Climate of plains —Jeelpigoree — Cooches — Alteration in the appearance of country byfires, etc. — Grasses — Bamboos — Cottages — Rajah of Cooch Behar— Condition of people — Hooli festival — Ascend Teesta — Canoes— Cranes — Forest — Baikant-pore — Rummai — Religion — Plantsat foot of mountains — Exit of Teesta — Canoe voyage down toRangamally — English genera of plants — Birds — Beautiful scenery— Botanizing on elephants — Willow — Siligoree — Cross Terai —Geology — Iron — Lohar-ghur — Coal and sandstone beds — Mechifisherman — Hailstorm — Ascent to Kursiong — To Dorjiling —Vegetation — Geology — Folded quartz-beds — Spheres of feldspar —Lime deposits.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

LITHOGRAPHIC VIEWS.

Fig. I. The Dhak, Butea frondosa, and Cochlospermum
gossypium, with the Kymore Hills in the background. p.53
Fig. II. View of Kinchinjunga from Mr. Hodgson's bungalow at
Dorjiling, from a sketch by W. Tayler, Esq., B.C.S. Frontispiece.
Fig. III. From Chingtam, looking up the Tambur Valley. p.196
Fig. VI. Nango mountain, from the summit of the great moraine in
Yangma Valley, looking eastward. p.232
Fig. V. Junnoo mountain from the Choonjerma Pass. p.264

WOOD ENGRAVINGS.

Fig. 1. Old tamarind trees. p.17
Fig. 2. Crossing the Soane River above Tura, with the Kymore Hills in
the background. p.47
Fig. 3. Equatorial sun-dial, Benares Observatory. p.74
Fig. 4. Equinoctial sun-dial, Benares Observatory. p.75
Fig. 5. Azimuth circle, Benares Observatory. p.76
Fig. 6. Monghyr on the Ganges. p.88
Fig. 7. Punkabaree, Sikkim Terai, and Balasun River. The trees in the
foreground are Araliaceae. p.105
Fig. 8. Lepcha girl and Boodhist priest. From a sketch by Miss
Colvile. p.129
Fig. 9. Pinus longifolia, in the great Rungeet Valley. p.148
Fig. 10. Construction of a cane suspension-bridge. p.149
Fig. 11. Lepcha boy carrying a bamboo water-vessel. From a sketch by
Miss Colvile. p.156
Fig. 12. Amulet usually worn by Lepchas. p.161
Fig. 13. Trunk-like root of Wightia gigantea, ascending a
tree, which its stout rootlets clasp. p.164
Fig. 14. Interior of Boodhist temple at Simonbong. p.172
Fig. 15. Trumpet made of a human thigh-bone. p.173
Fig. 16. Tibetan amulet set with turquoises. p.176
Fig. 17. Head of Tibet Mastiff. From a sketch taken in the zoological
gardens by C. Jenyns, Esq. p.203
Fig. 18. View on the Tambur River, with Ambies brunoniana.
p.207
Fig. 19. Wallanchoon village, East Nepal. p.210
Fig. 20. Head of a Tibetan demon. From a model in the possession of
Captain H. Strachey. p.226
Fig. 21. Ancient moraines surrounding the lower lake-bed in the
Yangma valley (looking west). p.234
Fig. 22. Second lake-bed in the Yangma valley, with Nango mountain,
(looking east). p.237
Fig. 23. Diagram of the terraces and glacial boulders, etc., at the
fork of the Yangma valley (looking north-west up the valley). The
terraces are represented as much too level and angular, and the
boulders too large, the woodcut being intended as a diagram rather
than as a view. p.242
Fig. 24. View of the head of the Yangma valley, and ancient moraines
of debris, which rise in confused hills several hundred feet above
the floor of the valley below the Kanglachem pass (elevation 16,000
feet). p.245
Fig. 25. Skulls of Ovis ammon. Sketched by J. E. Winterbottom,
Esq. p.249
Fig. 26. Ancient moraines, in which small lake-beds occur, in the
Kambachen valley (elevation 11,400 feet). p.260
Fig. 21. Brass box to contain amulets, from Tibet. p.270
Fig. 23. Pemiongchi goompa (or temple) with Chaits in the foreground.
p.286
Fig. 29. Costumes of Sikkim lamas and monks, with the bell, mani,
dobje, and trident. p.291
Fig. 30. The Do-mani stone, with gigantic Tibetan characters. p.294
Fig. 31. Implements of worship in the Sikkim temples. p.314
Fig. 32. Chaits at Tassiding, with decayed funereal cypresses. p.316
Fig. 33. Vestibule of temple at Tassiding. p.319
Fig. 34. Southern temple, at Tassiding. p.320
Fig. 35. Middle temple, at Tassiding, with mounted yaks. p.321
Fig. 36. Chair, altar, and images in the great temple at Tassiding.
p.322
Fig. 37. Ground-plan of southern temple at Tassiding. p.323
Fig. 38. Interior of temple at Pemiongchi, the walls covered with
allegorical paintings. p.329
Fig. 39. Doobdi temple, with young and old funereal cypress. p.337
Fig. 40. Summit of Kinchinjunga, with Pundim on the right; its black
cliff traversed by white granite veins. p.347
Fig. 41. Image of Maitrya, the coming Boodh. p.357
Fig. 42. Stone altar, and erection for burning juniper ashes. p.361
Fig. 43. Facsimile of the vermilion seal of the Dhurma Rajah of
Bhotan, head of the Dookpa sect of Boodhists. Opposite p.372
Fig. 44. A Mech, native of the Sikkim Terai. Sketched by Miss
Colvile. p.406
Fig. 45. Mech pocket-comb (of wood). p.408

HIMALAYAN JOURNALS.

CHAPTER I.

Sunderbunds vegetation — Calcutta Botanic Garden — Leave forBurdwan — Rajah's gardens and menagerie — Coal-beds, geology, andplants of — Lac insect and plant — Camels — Kunker — Cowage —Effloresced soda on soil — Glass, manufacture of — Atmosphericvapours — Temperature, etc. — Mahowa oil and spirits — Maddaobund— Jains — Ascent of Paras-nath — Vegetation of that mountain.

I left England on the 11th of November, 1847, and performed thevoyage to India under circ*mstances which have been detailed in theIntroduction. On the 12th of January, 1848, the "Moozuffer" wassteaming amongst the low swampy islands of the Sunderbunds.These exhibit no tropical luxuriance, and are, in this respect,exceedingly disappointing. A low vegetation covers them, chiefly madeup of a dwarf-palm (Phoenix paludosa) and small mangroves, with afew scattered trees on the higher bank that runs along the water'sedge, consisting of fan-palm, toddy-palm, and Terminalia. Every nowand then, the paddles of the steamer tossed up the large fruits ofNipa fruticans, a low stemless palm that grows in the tidal watersof the Indian ocean, and bears a large head of nuts. It is a plant ofno interest to the common observer, but of much to the geologist, fromthe nuts of a similar plant abounding in the tertiary formations atthe mouth of the Thames, and having floated about there in as greatprofusion as here, till buried deep in the silt and mud that now formsthe island of Sheppey.* [Bowerbank "On the Fossil Fruits and Seeds ofthe Isle of Sheppey," and Lyell's "Elements of Geology," 3rd ed. p.201.]

Higher up, the river Hoogly is entered, and large trees, withvillages and cultivation, replace the sandy spits and marshy junglesof the great Gangetic delta. A few miles below Calcutta, the scenerybecomes beautiful, beginning with the Botanic Garden, once theresidence of Roxburgh and Wallich, and now of Falconer,—classicalground to the naturalist. Opposite are the gardens of Sir LawrencePeel; unrivalled in India for their beauty and cultivation, andfairly entitled to be called the Chatsworth of Bengal. A littlehigher up, Calcutta opened out, with the batteries of Fort William inthe foreground, thundering forth a salute, and in a few minutes moreall other thoughts were absorbed in watching the splendour of thearrangements made for the reception of the Governor-General of India.

During my short stay in Calcutta, I was principally occupied inpreparing for an excursion with Mr. Williams of the GeologicalSurvey, who was about to move his camp from the Damooda valleycoal-fields, near Burdwan, to Beejaghur on the banks of the Soane,where coal was reported to exist, in the immediate vicinity ofwater-carriage, the great desideratum of the Burdwan fields.

My time was spent partly at Government-House, and partly at SirLawrence Peel's residence. The former I was kindly invited toconsider as my Indian home, an honour which I appreciate the morehighly, as the invitation was accompanied with the assurance that Ishould have entire freedom to follow my own pursuits; and theadvantages which such a position afforded me, were, I need not say,of no ordinary kind.

At the Botanic Gardens I received every assistance from Dr.McLelland,* [Dr. Falconer's locum tenens, then in temporarycharge of the establishment.] who was very busy, superintending thepublication of the botanical papers and drawings of his friend, thelate Dr. Griffith, for which native artists were preparing copies onlithographic paper.

Of the Gardens themselves it is exceedingly difficult to speak; thechanges had been so very great, and from a state with which I had noacquaintance. There had been a great want of judgment in thealterations made since Dr. Wallich's time, when they were celebratedas the most beautiful gardens in the east, and were the great objectof attraction to strangers and townspeople. I found instead anunsightly wilderness, without shade (the first requirement of everytropical garden) or other beauties than some isolated grand trees,which had survived the indiscriminate destruction of the useful andornamental which had attended the well-meant but ill-judged attemptto render a garden a botanical class-book. It is impossible to praisetoo highly Dr. Griffith's abilities and acquirements as a botanist,his perseverance and success as a traveller, or his matchlessindustry in the field and in the closet; and it is not wonderful,that, with so many and varied talents, he should have wanted the eyeof a landscape-gardener, or the education of a horticulturist.I should, however, be wanting in my duty to his predecessor, and tohis no less illustrious successor, were these remarks withheld,proceeding, as they do, from an unbiassed observer, who had thehonour of standing in an equally friendly relation to all parties.Before leaving India, I saw great improvements, but many years mustelapse before the gardens can resume their once proud pre-eminence.

I was surprised to find the Botanical Gardens looked upon by many ofthe Indian public, and even by some of the better informed officialmen, as rather an extravagant establishment, more ornamental thanuseful. These persons seemed astonished to learn that its name wasrenowned throughout Europe, and that during the first twenty yearsespecially of Dr. Wallich's superintendence, it had contributed moreuseful and ornamental tropical plants to the public and privategardens of the world than any other establishment before or since.*[As an illustration of this, I may refer to a Report presented to thegovernment of Bengal, from which it appears that between January,1836, and December, 1840, 189,932 plants were distributed gratis tonearly 2000 different gardens.] I speak from a personal knowledge ofthe contents of our English gardens, and our colonial ones at theCape, and in Australia, and from an inspection of the ponderousvolumes of distribution lists, to which Dr. Falconer is daily adding.The botanical public of Europe and India is no less indebted than thehorticultural to the liberality of the Hon. East India Company, andto the energy of the several eminent men who have carried their viewsinto execution.* [I here allude to the great Indian herbarium,chiefly formed by the staff of the Botanic Gardens under thedirection of Dr. Wallich, and distributed in 1829 to the principalmuseums of Europe. This is the most valuable contribution of the kindever made to science, and it is a lasting memorial: of the princelyliberality of the enlightened men who ruled the counsels of India inthose days. No botanical work of importance has been published since1829, without recording its sense of the obligation, and I was oncecommissioned by a foreign government, to purchase for its nationalmuseum, at whatever cost, one set of these collections, which wasbrought to the hammer on the death of its possessor. I have heard itremarked that the expense attending the distribution was enormous,and I have reason to know that this erroneous impression has had anunfavourable influence upon the destination of scarcely less valuablecollections, which have for years been lying untouched in the cellarsof the India House. I may add that officers who have exposed theirlives and impaired their health in forming similar ones at the ordersand expense of the Indian government, are at home, and thrown upontheir own resources, or the assistance of their scientific brethren,for the means of publishing and distributing the fruits of theirlabours.] The Indian government, itself, has already profited largelyby these gardens, directly and indirectly, and might have done sostill more, had its efforts been better seconded either by theEuropean or native population of the country. Amongst its greatesttriumphs may be considered the introduction of the tea-plant fromChina, a fact I allude to, as many of my English readers may not beaware that the establishment of the tea-trade in the Himalaya andAssam is almost entirely the work of the superintendents of thegardens of Calcutta and Seharunpore.

From no one did I receive more kindness than from Sir James Colvile,President of the Asiatic Society, who not only took care that Ishould be provided with every comfort, but presented me with acompletely equipped palkee, which, for strength and excellence ofconstruction, was everything that a traveller could desire.Often en route did I mentally thank him when I saw otherpalkees breaking down, and travellers bewailing the loss of thoseforgotten necessaries, with which his kind attention hadfurnished me.

I left Calcutta to join Mr. Williams' camp on the 28th of January,driving to Hoogly on the river of that name, and thence following thegrand trunk-road westward towards Burdwan. The novelty ofpalkee-travelling at first renders it pleasant; the neatness withwhich every thing is packed, the good-humour of the bearers, theirmerry pace, and the many more comforts enjoyed than could be expectedin a conveyance horsed by men, the warmth when the slidingdoors are shut, and the breeze when they are open, are all fullyappreciated on first starting, but soon the novelty wears off, andthe discomforts are so numerous, that it is pronounced, at best, abarbarous conveyance. The greedy cry and gestures of the bearers,when, on changing, they break a fitful sleep by poking a torch inyour face, and vociferating "Bucksheesh, Sahib;" their discontent atthe most liberal largesse, and the sluggishness of the next set whowant bribes, put the traveller out of patience with the natives.The dust when the slides are open, and the stifling heat when shutduring a shower, are conclusive against the vehicle, and on gettingout with aching bones and giddy head at the journey's end, I shookthe dust from my person, and wished never to see a palkee again.

On the following morning I was passing through the stragglingvillages close to Burdwan, consisting of native hovels by the roadside, with mangos and figs planted near them, and palms waving overtheir roofs. Crossing the nearly dry bed of the Damooda, I was setdown at Mr. M'Intosh's (the magistrate of the district), and nevermore thoroughly enjoyed a hearty welcome and a breakfast.

In the evening we visited the Rajah of Burdwan's palace andpleasure-grounds, where I had the first glimpse of orientalgardening: the roads were generally raised, running through ricefields, now dry and hard, and bordered with trees of Jack, Bamboo,Melia, Casuarina, etc. Tanks were the prominent features:chains of them, full of Indian water-lilies, being fringed with rowsof the fan-palm, and occasionally the Indian date. Close to the housewas a rather good menagerie, where I saw, amongst other animals, apair of kangaroos in high health and condition, the female with youngin her pouch. Before dark I was again in my palkee, and hurryingonwards. The night was cool and clear, very different from the dampand foggy atmosphere I had left at Calcutta. On the following morningI was travelling over a flat and apparently rising country, along anexcellent road, with groves of bamboos and stunted trees on eitherhand, few villages or palms, a sterile soil, with stunted grass andbut little cultivation; altogether a country as unlike what I hadexpected to find in India as well might be. All around was a deadflat or table-land, out of which a few conical hills rose in thewest, about 1000 feet high, covered with a low forest of dusky greenor yellow, from the prevalence of bamboo. The lark was singingmerrily at sunrise, and the accessories of a fresh air and dewy grassmore reminded me of some moorland in the north of England than of thetorrid regions of the east.

At 10 p.m. I arrived at Mr. Williams' camp, at Taldangah, a dawkstation near the western limit of the coal basin of the Damoodavalley. His operations being finished, he was prepared to start,having kindly waited a couple of days for my arrival.

Early on the morning of the last day of January, a motley group ofnatives were busy striking the tents, and loading the bullocks,bullock-carts and elephants: these proceeded on the march, occupyingin straggling groups nearly three miles of road, whilst we remainedto breakfast with Mr. F. Watkins, Superintendent of the East IndiaCoal and co*ke Company, who were working the seams.

The coal crops out at the surface; but the shafts worked are sunkthrough thick beds of alluvium. The age of these coal-fields is quiteunknown, and I regret to say that my examination of their fossilplants throws no material light on the subject. Upwards of thirtyspecies of fossil plants have been procured from them, and of thesethe majority are referred by Dr. McLelland* [Reports of theGeological Survey of India. Calcutta, 1850.] to the inferior ooliteepoch of England, from the prevalence of species of Zamia,Glossopteris, and Taeniopteris. Some of these genera,together with Vertebraria (a very remarkable Indian fossil),are also recognised in the coal-fields of Sind and of Australia.I cannot, however, think that botanical evidence of such a nature issufficient to warrant a satisfactory reference of these Indiancoal-fields to the same epoch as those of England or of Australia; inthe first place the outlines of the fronds of ferns and theirnervation are frail characters if employed alone for thedetermination of existing genera, and much more so of fossilfragments: in the second place recent ferns are so widelydistributed, that an inspection of the majority affords little clueto the region or locality they come from: and in the third place,considering the wide difference in latitude and longitude ofYorkshire, India, and Australia, the natural conclusion is that theycould not have supported a similar vegetation at the same epoch.In fact, finding similar fossil plants at places widely different inlatitude, and hence in climate, is, in the present state of ourknowledge, rather an argument against than for their having existedcotemporaneously. The Cycadeae, especially, whose fossilremains afford so much ground for geological speculations, are farfrom yielding such precise data as is supposed. Species of the orderare found in Mexico, South Africa, Australia, and India, someinhabiting the hottest and dampest, and others the driest climates onthe surface of the globe; and it appears to me rash to argue muchfrom the presence of the order in the coal of Yorkshire and India,when we reflect that the geologist of some future epoch may find asgood reasons for referring the present Cape, Australian, or MexicanFlora to the same period as that of the Lias and Oolites, when theCycadeae now living in the former countries shallbe fossilised.

Specific identity of their contained fossils may be considered asfair evidence of the cotemporaneous origin of beds, but amongst themany collections of fossil plants that I have examined, there ishardly a specimen, belonging to any epoch, sufficiently perfect towarrant the assumption that the species to which it belonged can beagain recognised. The botanical evidences which geologists too oftenaccept as proofs of specific identity are such as no botanist wouldattach any importance to in the investigation of existing plants.The faintest traces assumed to be of vegetable origin are habituallymade into genera and species by naturalists ignorant of thestructure, affinities and distribution of living plants, and of suchmaterials the bulk of so-called systems of fossil plants is composed.

A number of women were here employed in making gunpowder, grindingthe usual materials on a stone, with the addition of water from theHookah; a custom for which they have an obstinate prejudice.The charcoal here used is made from an Acacia: the Seiks, Ibelieve, employ Justicia Adhatoda, which is also in use allover India: at Aden the Arabs prefer the Calotropis, probablybecause it is most easily procured. The grain of all these plants isopen, whereas in England, closer-grained and more woody trees,especially willows, are preferred.

The jungle I found to consist chiefly of thorny bushes, Jujube of twospecies, an Acacia and Butea frondosa, the twigs of thelatter often covered with lurid red tears of Lac, which is herecollected in abundance. As it occurs on the plants and is collectedby the natives it is called Stick-lac, but after preparationShell-lac. In Mirzapore, a species of Celtis yields it, andthe Peepul very commonly in various parts of India. The elaborationof this dye, whether by the same species of insect, or by many fromplants so widely different in habit and characters, is a very curiousfact; since none have red juice, but some have milky andothers limpid.

After breakfast, Mr. Williams and I started on an elephant, followingthe camp to Gyra, twelve miles distant. The docility of these animalsis an old story, but it loses so much in the telling, that theirgentleness, obedience, and sagacity seemed as strange to me as if Ihad never heard or read of these attributes. The swinging motion,under a hot sun, is very oppressive, but compensated for by being sohigh above the dust. The Mahout, or driver, guides by poking hisgreat toes under either ear, enforcing obedience with an iron goad,with which he hammers the animal's head with quite as much force aswould break a cocoa-nut, or drives it through his thick skin down tothe quick. A most disagreeable sight it is, to see the blood andyellow fat oozing out in the broiling sun from these great punctures!Our elephant was an excellent one, when he did not take obstinatefits, and so docile as to pick up pieces of stone when desired, andwith a jerk of the trunk throw them over his head for the rider tocatch, thus saving the trouble of dismounting to geologise!

Of sights on the road, unfrequented though this noble line is, therewere plenty for a stranger; chiefly pilgrims to Juggernath, most onfoot, and a few in carts or pony gigs of rude construction.The vehicles from the upper country are distinguished by a farsuperior build, their horses are caparisoned with jingling bells, andthe wheels and other parts are bound with brass. The kindness of thepeople towards animals, and in some cases towards their sufferingrelations, is very remarkable, and may in part have given origin tothe prevalent idea that they are less cruel and stern than themajority of mankind; but that the "mild" Hindoo, however gentle onoccasion, is cruel and vindictive to his brother man and to animals,when his indolent temper is roused or his avarice stimulated, no onecan doubt who reads the accounts of Thuggee, Dacoitee, and poisoning,and witnesses the cruelty with which beasts of burthen are treated.A child carrying a bird, kid, or lamb, is not an uncommon sight, anda woman with a dog in her arms is still more frequently seen.Occasionally too, a group will bear an old man to see Juggernathbefore he dies, or a poor creature with elephantiasis, who hopes tobe allowed to hurry himself to his paradise, in preference tolingering in helpless inactivity, and at last crawling up to thesecond heaven only. The costumes are as various as the religiouscastes, and the many countries to which the travellers belong.Next in wealth to the merchants, the most thriving-looking wandereris the bearer of Ganges' holy water, who drives a profitable trade,his gains increasing as his load lightens, for the further he wandersfrom the sacred stream, the more he gets for the contents of his jar.

Of merchandise we passed very little, the Ganges being still the highroad between north-west India and Bengal. Occasionally a string ofcamels was seen, but, owing to the damp climate, these are rare, andunknown east of the meridian of Calcutta. A little cotton, clumsilypacked in ragged bags, dirty, and deteriorating every day, even atthis dry season, proves in how bad a state it must arrive at themarket during the rains, when the low wagons are dragged throughthe streams.

The roads here are all mended with a curious stone, called Kunker,which is a nodular concretionary deposit of limestone, abundantlyimbedded in the alluvial soil of a great part of India.* [Oftenoccurring in strata, like flints.] It resembles a coarse gravel, eachpebble being often as large as a walnut, and tuberculated on thesurface: it binds admirably, and forms excellent roads, butpulverises into a most disagreeable impalpable dust.

A few miles beyond Taldangah we passed from the sandstone, in whichthe coal lies, to a very barren country of gneiss and granite rocks,upon which the former rests; the country still rising, more hillsappear, and towering far above all is Paras-nath, the culminantpoint, and a mountain whose botany I was most anxious to explore.

The vegetation of this part of the country is very poor, nogood-sized trees are to be seen, all is a low stunted jungle.The grasses were few, and dried up, except in the beds of therivulets. On the low jungly hills the same plants appear, with a fewfigs, bamboo in great abundance, several handsome Acanthaceae; afew Asclepiadeae climbing up the bushes; and the Cowage plant, nowwith over-ripe pods, by shaking which, in passing, there often fallssuch a shower of its irritating microscopic hairs, as to make theskin tingle for an hour.

On the 1st of February, we moved on to Gyra, another insignificantvillage. The air was cool, and the atmosphere clear. The temperature,at three in the morning, was 65 degrees, with no dew, the grass only61 degrees°. As the sun rose, Parasnath appeared against the cleargrey sky, in the form of a beautiful broad cone, with a rugged peak,of a deeper grey than the sky. It is a remarkably handsome mountain,sufficiently lofty to be imposing, rising out of an elevated country,the slope of which, upward to the base of the mountain, thoughimperceptible, is really considerable; and it is surrounded by lesserhills of just sufficient elevation to set it off. The atmosphere,too, of these regions is peculiarly favourable for views: it is verydry at this season; but still the hills are clearly defined, withoutthe harsh outlines so characteristic of a moist air. The skies arebright, the sun powerful; and there is an almost imperceptible hazethat seems to soften the landscape, and keep every object intrue perspective.

Our route led towards the picturesque hills and values in front.The rocks were all hornblende and micaceous schist, cut through bytrap-dykes, while great crumbling masses (or bosses) of quartzprotruded through the soil. The stratified rocks were often exposed,pitched up at various inclinations: they were frequently white witheffloresced salts, which entering largely into the composition tendedto hasten their decomposition, and being obnoxious to vegetation,rendered the sterile soil more hungry still. There was littlecultivation, and that little of the most wretched kind; evenrice-fields were few and scattered; there was no corn, or gram(Ervum Lens), no Castor-oil, no Poppy, Cotton, Safflower, or othercrops of the richer soils that flank the Ganges and Hoogly; a verylittle Sugar-cane, Dhal (Cajana), Mustard, Linseed, and Rape, thelatter three cultivated for their oil. Hardly a Palm was to be seen;and it was seldom that the cottages could boast of a Banana,Tamarind, Orange, Cocoa-nut or Date. The Mahowa (Bassia latifolia)and Mango were the commonest trees. There being no Kunker in the soilhere, the roads were mended with angular quartz, much to theelephants' annoyance.

We dismounted where some very micaceous stratified rock cropped out,powdered with a saline efflorescence.* [An impure carbonate of soda.This earth is thrown into clay vessels with water, which afterdissolving the soda, is allowed to evaporate, when the remainder iscollected, and found to contain so much silica, as to be capable ofbeing fused into glass. Dr. Boyle mentions this curious fact (Essayon the Arts and Manufactures of India, read before the Society ofArts, February 18, 1852), in illustration of the probably early epochat which the natives of British India were acquainted with the art ofmaking glass. More complicated processes are employed, and have beenfrom a very early period, in other parts of the continent.] Jujubes(Zizyphus) prevailed, with the Carissa carandas (in fruit), ashrub belonging to the usually poisonous family of Dog-banes(Apocyneae); its berries make good tarts, and the plant itselfforms tolerable hedges.

The country around Fitcoree is rather pretty, the hills covered withbamboo and brushwood, and as usual, rising rather suddenly from theelevated plains. The jungle affords shelter to a few bears andtigers, jackals in abundance, and occasionally foxes; the birds seenare chiefly pigeons. Insects are very scarce; those of the locusttribe being most prevalent, indicative of a dry climate.

The temperature at 3 a.m.. was 65 degrees; at 3 p.m. 82 degrees; andat 10 p.m., 68 degrees, from which there was no great variationduring the whole time we spent at these elevations. The clouds wererare, and always light and high, except a little fleecy spot ofvapour condensed close to the summit of Paras-nath. Though the nightswere clear and starlight, no dew was deposited, owing to the greatdryness of the air. On one occasion, this drought was so great duringthe passage of a hot wind, that at night I observed the wet-bulbthermometer to stand 20.5 degrees below the temperature of the air,which was 66 degrees; this indicated a dew-point of 11.5 degrees, or54.5 degrees below the air, and a saturation-point of 0.146; therebeing only 0.102 grains of vapour per cubic foot of air, which latterwas loaded with dust. The little moisture suspended in the atmosphereis often seen to be condensed in a thin belt of vapour, at aconsiderable distance above the dry surface of the earth, thusintercepting the radiation of heat from the latter to the clear skyabove. Such strata may be observed, crossing the hills in ribbonlikemasses, though not so clearly on this elevated region as on theplains bounding the lower course of the Soane, where the vapour ismore dense, the hills more scattered, and the whole atmosphere morehumid. During the ten days I spent amongst the hills I saw but onecloudy sunrise, whereas below, whether at Calcutta, or on the banksof the Soane, the sun always rose behind a dense fog-bank.

At 9.30 a.m. the black-bulb thermometer rose in the sun to 130degrees. The morning observation before 10 or 11 a..m. always gives ahigher result than at noon, though the sun's declination is soconsiderably less, and in the hottest part of the day it is lowerstill (3.30 p.m. 109 degrees), an effect no doubt due to the vapoursraised by the sun, and which equally interfere with the photometerobservations. The N.W. winds invariably rise at about 9 a.m. and blowwith increasing strength till sunset; they are due to the rarefactionof the air over the heated ground, and being loaded with dust, thetemperature of the atmosphere is hence raised by the heatedparticles. The increased temperature of the afternoon is thereforenot so much due to the accumulation of caloric from the sun's rays,as to the passage of a heated current of air derived from the muchhotter regions to the westward. It would be interesting to know howfar this N.W. diurnal tide extends; also the rate at which it gathersmoisture in its progress over the damp regions of the Sunderbunds.Its excessive dryness in N.W. India approaches that of the Africanand Australian deserts; and I shall give an abstract of my ownobservations, both in the vallies of the Soane and Ganges, and on theelevated plateaus of Behar and of Mirzapore.* [See Appendix A.]

On the 2nd of February we proceeded to Tofe-Choney, the hillsincreasing in height to nearly 1000 feet, and the country becomingmore picturesque. We passed some tanks covered with Villarsia, andfrequented by flocks of white egrets. The existence of artificialtanks so near a lofty mountain, from whose sides innumerablewater-courses descend, indicates the great natural dryness of thecountry during one season of the year. The hills and vallies werericher than I expected, though far from luxuriant. A fine Naucleais a common shady tree, and Bignonia indica, now leafless, but withimmense pods hanging from the branches. Acanthaceae is theprevalent natural order, consisting of gay-flowered Eranthemums,Ruellias, Barlerias, and such hothouse favourites.* [Other plantsgathered here, and very typical of the Flora of this dry region, wereLinum trigynum, Feronia elephantum, Aegle marmelos, HelicteresAsoca, Abrus precatorius, Flemingia; various Desmodia, Rhynchosiae,Glycine, and Grislea tomentosa very abundant, Conocarpuslatifoliusa, Loranthus longiflorus, and another species;Phyllanthus Emblica, various Convolvuli, Cuscuta, and severalherbaceous Compositae.]

This being the most convenient station whence to ascend Paras-nath,we started at 6 a.m. for the village of Maddaobund, at the north baseof the mountain, or opposite side from that on which the grandtrunk-road runs. After following the latter for a few miles to thewest, we took a path through beautifully wooded plains, withscattered trees of the Mahowa (Bassia latifolia), resemblinggood oaks: the natives distil a kind of arrack from its fleshyflowers, which are also eaten raw. The seeds, too, yield a concreteoil, by expression, which is used for lamps and occasionallyfor frying.

Some villages at the west base of the mountain occupy a better soil,and are surrounded with richer cultivation; palms, mangos, and thetamarind, the first and last rare features in this part of Bengal,appeared to be common, with fields of rice and broad acres of flaxand rape, through the latter of which the blue Orobanche indicaswarmed. The short route to Maddaobund, through narrow rocky vallies,was impracticable for the elephants, and we had to make a veryconsiderable detour, only reaching that village at 2 p.m. All thehill people we observed were a fine-looking athletic race; theydisclaimed the tiger being a neighbour, which every palkee-beareralong the road declares to carry off the torch-bearers, torch andall. Bears they said were scarce, and all other wild animals, but anatural jealousy of Europeans often leads the natives to deny theexistence of what they know to be an attraction to the proverbiallysporting Englishman.

Illustration - OLD TAMARIND TREES.

The site of Maddaobund, elevated 1230 feet, in a clearance of theforest, and the appearance of the snow-white domes and bannerets ofits temples through the fine trees by which it is surrounded, arevery beautiful. Though several hundred feet above any point we hadhitherto reached, the situation is so sheltered that the tamarind,peepul, and banyan trees are superb. A fine specimen of the latterstands at the entrance to the village, not a broadheaded tree, as isusual in the prime of its existence, but a mass of trunks irregularlythrowing out immense branches in a most picturesque manner; theoriginal trunk is apparently gone, and the principal mass of rootstems is fenced in. This, with two magnificent tamarinds, forms agrand clump. The ascent of the mountain is immediately from thevillage up a pathway worn by the feet of many a pilgrim from the mostremote parts of India.

Paras-nath is a mountain of peculiar sanctity, to which circ*mstanceis to be attributed the flourishing state of Maddaobund. The name isthat of the twenty-third incarnation of Jinna (Sanscrit "Conqueror"),who was born at Benares, lived one hundred years, and was buried onthis mountain, which is the eastern metropolis of Jain worship, asMount Aboo is the western (where are their libraries and mostsplendid temples). The origin of the Jain sect is obscure, though itsrise appears to correspond with the wreck of Boodhism throughoutIndia in the eleventh century. The Jains form in some sort atransition-sect between Boodhists and Hindoos, differing from theformer in acknowledging castes, and from both in their worship ofParas-nath's foot, instead of that of Munja-gosha of the Boodhs, orVishnoo's of the Hindoos. As a sect of Boodhists their religion isconsidered pure, and free from the obscenities so conspicuous inHindoo worship; whilst, in fact, perhaps the reverse is the case;but the symbols are fewer, and indeed almost confined to the feet ofParas-nath, and the priests jealously conceal their esotericdoctrines.

The temples, though small, are well built, and carefully kept.No persuasion could induce the Brahmins to allow us to proceed beyondthe vestibule without taking off our shoes, to which we were notinclined to consent. The bazaar was for so small a village large, andcrowded to excess with natives of all castes, colours, and provincesof India, very many from the extreme W. and N.W., Rajpootana, theMadras Presidency, and Central India. Numbers had come in good cars,well attended, and appeared men of wealth and consequence; while thequantities of conveyances of all sorts standing about, ratherreminded me of an election, than of anything I had seen in India.

The natives of the place were a more Negro-looking race than theBengalees to whom I had previously been accustomed; and the curiosityand astonishment they displayed at seeing (probably many of them forthe first time) a party of Englishmen, were sufficiently amusing.Our coolies with provisions not having come up, and it being twoo'clock in the afternoon, I having had no breakfast, and beingignorant of the exclusively Jain population of the village, sent myservant to the bazaar, for some fowls and eggs; but he was mobbed forasking for these articles, and parched rice, beaten flat, with somecoarse sugar, was all I could obtain; together with sweetmeats soodiously flavoured with various herbs, and sullied with suchimpurities, that we quickly made them over to the elephants.

Not being able to ascend the mountain and return in one day,Mr. Williams and his party went back to the road, leaving Mr. Haddonand myself, who took up our quarters under a tamarind-tree.

In the evening a very gaudy poojah was performed. The car, filledwith idols, was covered with gilding and silk, and drawn by noblebulls, festooned and garlanded. A procession was formed in front; andit opened into an avenue, up and down which gaily dresseddancing-boys paced or danced, shaking castanets, the attendantworshippers singing in discordant voices, beating tom-toms, cymbals,etc. Images (of Boodh apparently) abounded on the car, in front ofwhich a child was placed. The throng of natives was very great andperfectly orderly, indeed, sufficiently apathetic: they wereremarkably civil in explaining what they understood of theirown worship.

At 2 p.m., the thermometer was only 65 degrees, though the day wasfine, a strong haze obstructing the sun's rays; at 6 p.m., 58degrees; at 9 p.m., 56 degrees, and the grass cooled to 49 degrees.Still there was no dew, though the night was starlight.

Having provided doolies, or little bamboo chairs slung on four men'sshoulders, in which I put my papers and boxes, we next morningcommenced the ascent; at first through woods of the common trees,with large clumps of bamboo, over slaty rocks of gneiss, muchinclined and sloping away from the mountain. The view from a ridge500 feet high was superb, of the village, and its white domes halfburied in the forest below, the latter of which continued in sightfor many miles to the northward. Descending to a valley some fernswere met with, and a more luxuriant vegetation, especially ofUrticeae. Wild bananas formed a beautiful, and to me novelfeature in the woods.

The conical hills of the white ants were very abundant. The structureappears to me not an independent one, but the debris of clumps ofbamboos, or of the trunks of large trees, which these insects havedestroyed. As they work up a tree from the ground, they coat the barkwith particles of sand glued together, carrying up this artificialsheath or covered way as they ascend. A clump of bamboos is thusspeedily killed; when the dead stems fall away, leaving the mass ofstumps coated with sand, which the action of the weather soonfashions into a cone of earthy matter.

Ascending again, the path strikes up the hill, through a thick forestof Sal (Vateria robusta) and other trees, spanned with cablesof scandent Bauhinia stems. At about 3000 feet above the sea,the vegetation becomes more luxuriant, and by a little stream Icollected five species of ferns and some mosses,—all in a dry state,however. Still higher, Clematis, Thalictrum, and an increasednumber of grasses are seen; with bushes of Verbenaceae andCompositae. The white ant apparently does not enter thiscooler region. At 3500 feet the vegetation again changes, the treesall become gnarled and scattered; and as the dampness also increases,more mosses and ferns appear. We emerged from the forest at the footof the great ridge of rocky peaks, stretching E. and W. three or fourmiles. Abundance of a species of berberry and an Osbeckiamarked the change in the vegetation most decidedly, and were frequentover the whole summit, with coarse grasses, and various bushes.

At noon we reached the saddle of the crest (alt. 4230 feet), wherewas a small temple, one of five or six which occupy variousprominences of the ridge. The wind, N.W., was cold, the temp. 56degrees. The view was beautiful, but the atmosphere too hazy: to thenorth were ranges of low wooded hills, and the course of the Barakahand Adji rivers; to the south lay a flatter country, with lowerranges, and the Damooda river, its all but waterless bed snowy-whitefrom the exposed granite blocks with which its course is strewn.East and west the several sharp ridges of the mountain itself areseen; the western considerably the highest. Immediately below, themountain flanks appear clothed with impenetrable forest, here andthere interrupted by rocky eminences; while to the north the grandtrunk road shoots across the plains, like a white thread, as straightas an arrow, spanning here and there the beds of the mountaintorrents.

On the south side the vegetation was more luxuriant than on thenorth, though, from the heat of the sun, the reverse might have beenexpected. This is owing partly to the curve taken by the ridge beingopen to the south, and partly to the winds from that quarter beingthe moist ones. Accordingly, trees which I had left 3000 feet belowin the north ascent, here ascended to near the summit, such as figsand bananas. A short-stemmed palm (Phoenix) was tolerablyabundant, and a small tree (Pterospermum) on which a speciesof grass grew epiphytically; forming a curious feature in thelandscape.

The situation of the principal temple is very fine, below the saddlein a hollow facing the south, surrounded by jungles of plantain andbanyan. It is small, and contains little worthy of notice but thesculptured feet of Paras-nath, and some marble Boodh idols;cross-legged figures with crisp hair and the Brahminical cord.These, a leper covered with ashes in the vestibule, and anofficiating priest, were all we saw. Pilgrims were seen on variousparts of the mountain in very considerable numbers, passing from onetemple to another, and generally leaving a few grains of dry rice ateach; the rich and lame were carried in chairs, the poorer walked.

The culminant rocks are very dry, but in the rains may possess manycurious plants; a fine Kalanchoe was common, with the berberry, abeautiful Indigofera, and various other shrubs; a Bolbophyllumgrew on the rocks, with a small Begonia, and some ferns. There wereno birds, and very few insects, a beautiful small Pontia being theonly butterfly. The striped squirrel was very busy amongst the rocks;and I saw a few mice, and the traces of bears.

At 3 p.m., the temperature was 54 degrees, and the air deliciouslycool and pleasant. I tried to reach the western peak (perhaps 300feet above the saddle), by keeping along the ridge, but was cut offby precipices, and ere I could retrace my steps it was time todescend. This I was glad to do in a doolie, and I was carried to thebottom, with only one short rest, in an hour and three quarters.The descent was very steep the whole way, partly down steps of sharprock, where one of the men cut his foot severely. The pathway at thebottom was lined for nearly a quarter of a mile with sick, halt,maimed, lame, and blind beggars, awaiting our descent. It was truly afearful sight, especially the lepers, and numerous unhappy victimsto elephantiasis.

Though the botany of Paras-nath proved interesting, its elevation wasnot accompanied by such a change from the flora of its base as I hadexpected. This is no doubt due to its dry climate and sterile soil;characters which it shares with the extensive elevated area of whichit forms a part, and upon which I could not detect above 300 speciesof plants during my journey. Yet, that the atmosphere at the summitis more damp as well as cooler than at the base, is proved as well bythe observations as by the vegetation;* [Of plants eminently typicalof a moister atmosphere, I may mention the genera Bolbophyllum,Begonia, Aeginetia, Disporum, Roxburghia, Panax, Eugenia, Myrsine,Shorea, Millettia, ferns, mosses, and foliaceous lichens; whichappeared in strange association with such dry-climate genera asKalanchoe, Pterospermum, and the dwarf-palm, Phoenix. Add to thislist the Berberis asiatica, Clematis nutans, Thalictrumglyphocarpum, 27 grasses, Cardamine, etc., and the mountain toppresents a mixture of the plants of a damp hot, a dry hot, and of atemperate climate, in fairly balanced proportions. The prime elementsof a tropical flora were however wholly wanting on Paras-nath, whereare neither Peppers, Pothos, Arum, tall or climbing palms,tree-ferns, Guttiferae, vines, or laurels.] and in some respects,as the increased proportion of ferns, additional epiphytal orchideousplants, Begonias, and other species showed, its top supported amore tropical flora than its base.

CHAPTER II.

Doomree — Vegetation of table-land — Lieutenant Beadle — Birds —Hot springs of Soorujkoond — Plants near them — Shells in them —Cholera-tree — Olibanum — Palms, form of — Dunwah Pass — Trees,native and planted — Wild peaco*ck — Poppy fields — Geography andgeology of Behar and Central India — Toddy-palm — Ground,temperature of — Barroon — Temperature of plants — Lizard — Crossthe Soane — Sand, ripple marks on — Kymore hills — Ground,temperature of — Limestone — Rotas fort and palace — Nitrate oflime — Change of climate — Lime stalagmites, enclosing leaves —Fall of Soane — Spiders, etc. — Scenery and natural history ofupper Soane valley — Hardwickia binata — Bhel fruit —Dust-storm — Alligator — Catechu — Cochlospermum —Leaf-bellows — Scorpions — Tortoises — Florican — Limestonespheres — Coles — Tiger-hunt — Robbery.

In the evening we returned to our tamarind tree, and the next morningregained the trunk road, following it to the dawk bungalow ofDoomree. On the way I found the Caesalpinia paniculuta, amagnificent climber, festooning the trues with its dark glossyfoliage and gorgeous racemes of orange blossoms. Receding from themountain, the country again became barren: at Doomree the hills wereof crystalline rocks, chiefly quartz and gneiss; no palms or largetrees of any kind appeared. The spear-grass abounded, and adetestable nuisance it was, its long awns and husked seed workingthrough trowsers and stockings.

Balanites was not uncommon, forming a low thorny bush, withAegle marmelos and Feronia elephantum. Having restedthe tired elephant, we pushed on in the evening to the next stage,Baghoda, arriving there at 3 a.m., and after a few hours' rest, Iwalked to the bungalow of Lieutenant Beadle, the surveyor of roads,sixteen miles further.

The country around Baghoda is still very barren, but improvesconsiderably in going westward, the ground becoming hilly, and theroad winding through prettily wooded vallies, and rising gradually to1446 feet. Nauclea cordifolia, a tree resembling a youngsycamore, is very common; with the Semul (Bombax), a verystriking tree from its buttressed trunk and gaudy scarlet flowers,swarming with birds, which feed from its honeyed blossoms.

At 10 a.m. the sun became uncomfortably hot, the thermometer being77 degrees, and the black-bulb thermometer 137 degrees. I had lost myhat, and possessed no substitute but a silken nightcap; so I had totie a handkerchief over my head, to the astonishment of thepassers-by. Holding my head down, I had little source of amusem*ntbut reading the foot-marks on the road; and these were strangelydiversified to an English eye. Those of the elephant, camel, buffaloand bullock, horse, ass, pony, dog, goat, sheep and kid, lizard,wild-cat and pigeon, with men, women, and children's feet, naked andshod, were all recognisable.

It was noon ere I arrived at Lieutenant Beadle's, at Belcuppee (alt.1219 feet), glad enough of the hearty welcome I received, being veryhot, dusty, and hungry. The country about his bungalow is verypretty, from the number of wooded hills and large trees, especiallyof banyan and peepul, noble oak-like Mahowa (Bassia), Nauclea,Mango, and Ficus infectoria. These are all scattered, however, anddo not form forest, such as in a stunted form clothes the hills,consisting of Diospyros, Terminalia, Gmelina, Nauclea parvifolia,Buchanania, etc. The rocks are still hornblende-schist and granite,with a covering of alluvium, full of quartz pebbles. Insects andbirds are numerous, the latter consisting of jays, crows, doves,sparrows, and maina (Pastor); also the Phoenicophaus tristis("Mahoka" of the natives), with a note like that of the Englishcuckoo, as heard late in the season.

I remained two days with Lieutenant Beadle, enjoying in his societyseveral excursions to the hot springs, etc. These springs (calledSoorujkoond) are situated close to the road, near the mouth of avalley, in a remarkably pretty spot. They are, of course, objects ofworship; and a ruined temple stands close behind them, with threevery conspicuous trees—a peepul, a banyan, and a white,thick-stemmed, leafless Sterculia, whose branches bore denseclusters of greenish foetid flowers. The hot springs are four innumber, and rise in as many ruined brick tanks about two yardsacross. Another tank, fed by a cold spring, about twice that size,flows between two of the hot, only two or three paces distant fromone of the latter on either hand. All burst through the gneiss rocks,meet in one stream after a few yards, and are conducted by brickedcanals to a pool of cold water, about eighty yards off.

The temperatures of the hot springs were respectively 169 degrees,170 degrees, 173 degrees, and 190 degrees; of the cold, 84 degrees at4 p.m., and 75 degrees at 7 a.m. the following morning. The hottestis the middle of the five. The water of the cold spring is sweet butnot good, and emits gaseous bubbles; it was covered with a greenfloating Conferva. Of the four hot springs, the most copiousis about three feet deep, bubbles constantly, boils eggs, and thoughbrilliantly clear, has an exceedingly nauseous taste. This and theother warm ones cover the bricks and surrounding rocks with a thickincrustation of salts.

Confervae abound in the warm stream from the springs, and twospecies, one ochreous brown, and the other green, occur on themargins of the tanks themselves, and in the hottest water; the brownis the best Salamander, and forms a belt in deeper water than thegreen; both appear in broad luxuriant strata, wherever the temp. iscooled down to 168 degrees, and as low as 90 degrees. Of floweringplants, three showed in an eminent degree a constitution capable ofresisting the heat, if not a predilection for it; these were allCyperaceae, a Cyperus and an Eleocharis, having their roots inwater of 100 degrees, and where they are probably exposed to greaterheat, and a Fimbristylis at 98 degrees; all were very luxuriant.From the edges of the four hot springs I gathered sixteen species offlowering plants, and from the cold tank five, which did not grow inthe hot. A water-beetle, Colymbetes(?) and Notonecta, abounded inwater at 112 degrees, with quantities of dead shells; frogs were verylively, with live shells, at 90 degrees, and with various other waterbeetles. Having no means of detecting the salts of this water, Ibottled some for future analysis.* [For an account of theConfervae, and of the mineral constituents of the waters, etc. seeAppendix B.]

On the following day I botanized in the neighbourhood, with but poorsuccess. An oblique-leaved fig climbs the other trees, and generallystrangles them: two epiphytal Orchideae also occur on the latter,Vanda Roxburghii and an Oberonia. Dodders (Cuscuta) of twospecies, and Cassytha, swarm over and conceal the bushes with theiryellow thread-like stems.

I left Belcuppee on the 8th of February, following Mr. Williams'camp. The morning was clear and cold, the temperature only 56degrees. We crossed the nearly dry broad bed of the Burkutta river, anoble stream during the rains, carrying along huge boulders ofgranite and gneiss. Near this I passed the Cholera-tree, a famouspeepul by the road side, so called from a detachment of infantryhaving been attacked and decimated at the spot by that fell disease;it is covered with inscriptions and votive tokens in the shape ofrags, etc. We continued to ascend to 1360 feet, where I came upon asmall forest of the Indian Olibanum (Boswellia thurifera),conspicuous from its pale bark, and spreading curved branches, leafyat their tips; its general appearance is a good deal like that of themountain ash. The gum, celebrated throughout the East, was flowingabundantly from the trunk, very fragrant and transparent. The groundwas dry, sterile, and rocky; kunker, the curious formation mentionedat Chapter 1, appears in the alluvium, which I had not elsewhere seenat this elevation.

Descending to the village of Burshoot, we lost sight of theBoswellia, and came upon a magnificent tope of mango, banyan,and peepul, so far superior to anything hitherto met with, that wewere glad to choose such a pleasant halting-place for breakfast.There are a few lofty fan-palms here too, great rarities in this soiland elevation: one, about eighty feet high, towered above somewretched hovels, displaying the curious proportions of this tribe ofpalms: first, a short cone, tapering to one-third the height of thestem, the trunk then swelling to two-thirds, and again tapering tothe crown. Beyond this, the country again ascends to Burree (alt.1169 feet), another dawk bungalow, a barren place, which we left onthe following morning.

So little was there to observe, that I again amused myself bywatching footsteps, the precision of which in the sandy soil wascurious. Looking down from the elephant, I was interested by seeingthem all in relief, instead of depressed, the slantingrays of the sun in front producing this kind of mirage. Before usrose no more of those wooded hills that had been our companions forthe last 120 miles, the absence of which was a sign of the nearlyapproaching termination of the great hilly plateau we had beentraversing for that distance.

Chorparun, at the top of the Dunwah pass, is situated on an extendedbarren flat, 1320 feet above the sea, and from it the descent fromthe table-land to the level of the Soane valley, a little above thatof the Ganges at Patna, is very sudden. The road is carried zizgagdown a rugged hill of gneiss, with a descent of nearly 1000 feet insix miles, of which 600 are exceedingly steep. The pass is wellwooded, with abundance of bamboo, Bombax, Cassia, Acacia, andButea, with Calotropis, the purple Mudar, a very handsomeroad-side plant, which I had not seen before, but which, with theArgemone Mexicana, was to be a companion for hundreds of milesfarther. All the views in the pass are very picturesque, thoughwanting in good foliage, such as Ficus would afford, of which I didnot see one tree. Indeed the rarity of the genus (exceptF. infectoria) in the native woods of these hills, is veryremarkable. The banyan and peepul always appear to be planted, as dothe tamarind and mango.

Dunwah, at the foot of the pass, is 620 feet above the sea, andnearly 1000 below the mean level of the highland I had beentraversing. Every thing bears here a better aspect; the woods atthe foot of the hills afforded many plants; the bamboo(B. stricta) is green instead of yellow and white; a littlecastor-oil is cultivated, and the Indian date (low and stunted)appears about the cottages.

In the woods I heard and saw the wild peaco*ck for the first time.Its voice is not to be distinguished from that of the tame bird inEngland, a curious instance of the perpetuation of character underwidely different circ*mstances, for the crow of the wild jungle-fowldoes not rival that of the farm-yard co*ck.

In the evening we left Dunwah for Barah (alt. 480 feet), passing oververy barren soil, covered with low jungle, the original woods havingapparently been cut for fuel. Our elephant, a timid animal, came on adrove of camels in the dark by the road-side, and in his alarminsisted on doing battle, tearing through the thorny jungle,regardless of the mahout, and still more of me: the uproar raised bythe camel-drivers was ridiculous, and the danger to my barometerimminent.

We proceeded on the 11th of February to Sheergotty, where Mr.Williams and his camp were awaiting our arrival. Wherever cultivationappeared the crops were tolerably luxuriant, but a great deal of thecountry yielded scarcely half-a-dozen kinds of plants to any tensquare yards of ground. The most prevalent were Carissa carandas,Olax scandens, two Zizyphi, and the ever-present AcaciaCatechu. The climate is, however, warmer and much moister, for Ihere observed dew to be formed, which I afterwards found to be usualon the low grounds. That its presence is due to the increased amountof vapour in the atmosphere I shall prove: the amount of radiation,as shown by the cooling of the earth and vegetation, being the samein the elevated plain and lower levels.* [See Appendix C.]

The good soil was very richly cultivated with poppy (which I had notseen before), sugar-cane, wheat, barley, mustard, rape, and flax.At a distance a field of poppies looks like a green lake, studdedwith white water-lilies. The houses, too, are better, and have tiledroofs; while, in such situations, the road is lined with trees.

A retrospect of the ground passed over is unsatisfactory, as far asbotany is concerned, except as showing how potent are the effects ofa dry soil and climate during one season of the year upon avegetation which has no desert types. During the rains probably manymore species would be obtained, for of annuals I scarcely foundtwenty. At that season, however, the jungles of Behar and Birbhoom,though far from tropically luxuriant, are singularly unhealthy.

In a geographical point of view the range of hills between Burdwanand the Soave is interesting, as being the north-east continuation ofa chain which crosses the broadest part of the peninsula of India,from the Gulf of Cambay to the junction of the Ganges and Hoogly atRajmahal. This range runs south of the Soane and Kymore, which itmeets I believe at Omerkuntuk;* [A lofty mountain said to be7000-8000 feet high.] the granite of this and the sandstone of theother, being there both overlaid with trap. Further west again, theranges separate, the southern still betraying a nucleus of granite,forming the Satpur range, which divides the valley of the Taptee fromthat of the Nerbudda. The Paras-nath range is, though the mostdifficult of definition, the longer of the two parallel ranges;the Vindhya continued as the Kymore, terminating abruptly at the Fortof Chunar on the Ganges. The general and geological features of thetwo, especially along their eastern course, are very different.This consists of metamorphic gneiss, in various highly inclined beds,through which granite hills protrude, the loftiest of which isParas-nath. The north-east Vindhya (called Kymore), on the otherhand, consists of nearly horizontal beds of sandstone, overlyinginclined beds of non-fossiliferous limestone. Between the latter andthe Paras-nath gneiss, come (in order of superposition) shivered andundulating strata of metamorphic quartz, hornstone, hornstone-porphyry, jaspers, etc. These are thrown up, by greenstone I believe,along the north and north-west boundary of the gneiss range, and areto be recognised as forming the rocks of Colgong, of Sultangunj, andof Monghyr, on the Ganges, as also various detached hills near Gyah,and along the upper course of the Soane. From these are derived thebeautiful agates and cornelians, so famous under the name of Soanepebbles, and they are equally common on the Curruckpore range, as onthe south bank of the Soane, so much so in the former position as tohave been used in the decoration of the walls of the now ruinedpalaces near Bhagulpore.

In the route I had taken, I had crossed the eastern extremity aloneof the range, commencing with a very gradual ascent, over thealluvial plains of the west bank of the Hoogly, then over laterite,succeeded by sandstone of the Indian coal era, which is succeeded bythe granite table-land, properly so called. A little beyond the coalfields, the table-land reaches an average height of 1130 feet, whichis continued for upwards of 100 miles, to the Dunwah pass. Here thedescent is sudden to plains, which, continuous with those of theGanges, run up the Soane till beyond Rotasghur. Except for theoccasional ridges of metamorphic rocks mentioned above, and somehills of intruded greenstone, the lower plain is stoneless, itssubjacent rocks being covered with a thicker stratum of the samealluvium which is thinly spread over the higher table-land above.This range is of great interest from its being the source of manyimportant rivers,* [The chief rivers from this, the great watershedof western Bengal, flow north-west and south-east; a fewcomparatively insignificant streams running north to the Ganges.Amongst the former are the Rheru, the Kunner, and the Coyle, whichcontribute to the Soane; amongst the latter, the Dammooda, Adji, andBarakah, flow into the Hoogly, and the Subunrika, Braminee, andMahanuddee into the Bay of Bengal.] and of all those which water thecountry between the Soane, Hoogly, and Ganges, as well as from itsdeflecting the course of the latter river, which washes its base atRajmahal, and forcing it to take a sinuous course to the sea. In itsclimate and botany it differs equally from the Gangetic plains to thenorth, and from the hot, damp, and exuberant forests of Orissa to thesouth. Nor are its geological features less different, or itsconcomitant and in part resultant characters of agriculture andnative population. Still further west, the great rivers of thepeninsula have their origin, the Nerbudda and Taptee flowing west tothe gulf of Cambay, the Cane to the Jumna, the Soane to the Ganges,and the northern feeders of the Godavery to the Bay of Bengal.

On the 12th of February, we left Sheergotty (alt. 463 feet), crossingsome small streams, which, like all else seen since leaving theDunwah Pass, flow N. to the Ganges. Between Sheergotty and the Soane,occur many of the isolated hills of greenstone, mentioned above,better known to the traveller from having been telegraphic stations.Some are much impregnated with iron, and whether for their colour,the curious outlines of many, or their position, form quaint, and insome cases picturesque features in the otherwise tame landscape.

The road being highly cultivated, and the Date-palm becoming moreabundant, we encamped in a grove of these trees. All were curiouslydistorted; the trunks growing zigzag, from the practice of yearlytapping the alternate sides for toddy. The incision is just below thecrown, and slopes upwards and inwards: a vessel is hung below thewound, and the juice conducted into it by a little piece of bamboo.This operation spoils the fruit, which, though eaten, is small, andmuch inferior to the African date.

At Mudunpore (alt. 440 feet) a thermometer, sunk 3 feet 4 inches inthe soil, maintained a constant temperature of 71.5 degrees, that ofthe air varying from 77.5 degrees, at 3 p.m., to 62 at daylight thefollowing morning; when we moved on to Nourunga (alt. 340 feet),where I bored to 3 feet 8 inches with a heavy iron jumper through analluvium of such excessive tenacity, that eight natives were employedfor four hours in the operation. In both this and another hole,4 feet 8 inches, the temperature was 72 degrees at 10 p.m.; and onthe following morning 71.5 degrees in the deepest hole, and70 degrees in the shallower: that of the external air varied from71 degrees at 3 p.m., to 57 degrees at daylight on the followingmorning. At the latter time I took the temperature of the earth nearthe surface, which showed, surface 53 degrees, 1 inch 57 degrees,2 inches 58 degrees, 4 inches 62 degrees, 7 inches 64 degrees.

The following day we marched to Baroon (alt. 345 feet) on thealluvial banks of the Soane, crossing a deep stream by a prettysuspension bridge, of which the piers were visible two miles off, solevel is the road. The Soane is here three miles wide, its nearly drybed being a desert of sand, resembling a vast arm of the sea when thetide is out: the banks are very barren, with no trees near, and butvery few in the distance. The houses were scarcely visible on theopposite side, behind which the Kymore mountains rise. The Soane is aclassical river, being now satisfactorily identified with theEranoboas of the ancients.* [The etymology of Eranoboas isundoubtedly Hierrinia Vahu (Sanskrit), the golden-armed.Sons is also the Sanskrit for gold. The stream is celebrated for itsagates (Soane pebbles), which are common, but gold is not nowobtained from it.]

The alluvium is here cut into a cliff, ten or twelve feet above thebed of the river, and against it the sand is blown in nakeddunes. At 2 p.m., the surface-sand was heated to 110 degreeswhere sheltered from the wind, and 104 degrees in the open bed of theriver. To compare the rapidity and depth to which the heat iscommunicated by pure sand, and by the tough alluvium, I took thetemperature at some inches depth in both. That the alluvium absorbsthe heat better, and retains it longer, would appear from thefollowing, the only observations I could make, owing to the tenacityof the soil.

2 p.m.Surface 104 degrees22.5 inches 93 degrees5 inches 88 degreesSand at this depth 78 degrees.5 a.m.Surface 51 degrees28 inches 68 degrees

Finding the fresh milky juice of Calotropis to be only72 degrees, I was curious to ascertain at what depth thistemperature was to be obtained in the sand of the river-bed, wherethe plant grew.

Surface 104.5 degrees,1 inch 102 degrees,2 inches 94 degrees,2.5 inches 90 degrees,3.5 inches 85 degrees (Compact),8 inches 73 degrees (Wet),15 inches 72 degrees (Wet).

The power this plant exercises of maintaining a low temperature of 72degrees, though the main portion which is subterraneous is surroundedby a soil heated to between 90 degrees and 104 degrees, is veryremarkable, and no doubt proximately due to the rapidity ofevaporation from the foliage, and consequent activity in thecirculation. Its exposed leaves maintained a temperature of 80degrees, nearly 25 degrees cooler than the similarly exposed sand andalluvium. On the same night the leaves were cooled down to 54degrees, when the sand had cooled to 51 degrees. Before daylight thefollowing morning the sand had cooled to 43 degrees, and the leavesof the Calotropis to 45.5 degrees. I omitted to observe thetemperature of the sap at the latter time; but the sand at the samedepth (15 inches) as that at which its temperature and that of theplant agreed at mid-day, was 68 degrees. And assuming this to be theheat of the plant, we find that the leaves are heated by solarradiation during the day 8 degrees, and cooled by nocturnalradiation, 22.5 degrees.

Mr. Theobald (my companion in this and many other rambles) pulled alizard from a hole in the bank. Its throat was mottled with scales ofbrown and yellow. Three ticks had fastened on it, each of a sizecovering three or four scales: the first was yellow, correspondingwith the yellow colour of the animal's belly, where it lodged, thesecond brown, from the lizard's head; but the third, which wasclinging to the parti-coloured scales of the neck, had its bodyparti-coloured, the hues corresponding with the individual scaleswhich they covered. The adaptation of the two first specimens incolour to the parts to which they adhered, is sufficientlyremarkable; but the third case was most extraordinary.

During the night of the 14th of February, I observed a beautifuldisplay, apparently of the Aurora borealis, an account of which willbe found in the Appendix.

February 15.—Our passage through the Soane sands was verytedious, though accomplished in excellent style, the elephantspushing forward the heavy waggons of mining tools with theirforeheads. The wheels were sometimes buried to the axles in sand, andthe draught bullocks were rather in the way than otherwise.

The body of water over which we ferried, was not above 80 yards wide.In the rains, when the whole space of three miles is one rapid flood,10 or 12 feet deep, charged with yellow sand, this river must presentan imposing spectacle. I walked across the dry portion, observing thesand-waves, all ranged in one direction, perpendicular to that of theprevailing wind, accurately representing the undulations of theocean, as seen from a mast-head or high cliff. As the sand was fineror coarser, so did the surface resemble a gentle ripple, or anocean-swell. The progressive motion of the waves was curious, andcaused by the lighter particles being blown over the ridges, andfilling up the hollows to leeward. There were a few islets in thesand, a kind of oases of mud and clay, in laminae no thicker thanpaper, and these were at once denizened by various weeds. Some largespots were green with wheat and barley-crops, both sufferingfrom smut.

We encamped close to the western shore, at the village of Dearee(alt. 330 feet); it marks the termination of the Kymore Hills, alongwhose S.E. bases our course now lay, as we here quitted the grandtrunk road for a rarely visited country.

On the 16th we marched south up the river to Tilotho (alt. 395 feet),through a rich and highly cultivated country, covered with indigo,cotton, sugar-cane, safflower, castor-oil, poppy, and various grains.Dodders (Cuscuta) covered even tall trees with a golden web,and the Capparis acuminata was in full flower along the roadside. Tilotho, a beautiful village, is situated in a superb grove ofMango, Banyan, Peepul, Tamarind, and Bassia. The Date ortoddy-palm and fan-palm are very abundant and tall: each had a pothung under the crown. The natives climb these trunks with a hoop orcord round the body and both ancles, and a bottle-gourd or othervessel hanging round the neck to receive the juice from thestock-bottle, in this aerial wine-cellar. These palms were so loftythat the climbers, as they paused in their ascent to gaze with wonderat our large retinue, resembled monkeys rather than men. Both treesyield a toddy, but in this district they stated that that from thePhoenix (Date) alone ferments, and is distilled; while inother parts of India, the Borassus (fan-palm) is chieflyemployed. I walked to the hills, over a level cultivated countryinterspersed with occasional belts of low wood; in which the pensilenests of the weaver-bird were abundant, but generally hanging out ofreach, in prickly Acacias.

The hills here present a straight precipitous wall of horizontallystratified sandstone, very like the rocks at the Cape of Good Hope,with occasionally a shallow valley, and a slope of debris at thebase, densely clothed with dry jungle. The cliffs are about 1000 feethigh, and the plants similar to those at the foot of Paras-nath, butstunted: I climbed to the top, the latter part by steps or ledges ofsandstone. The summit was clothed with long grass, trees ofDiospyros and Terminalia, and here and there theBoswellia. On the precipitous rocks the curious white-barkedSterculia foetida "flung its arms abroad," leafless, andlooking as if blasted by lightning.

A hole was sunk here again for the thermometers, and, as usual, withgreat labour; the temperatures obtained were—Air.9 p.m. 64.5 degrees5.30 a.m. 58.5 degrees4 feet 6 inches, under good shade of trees9 p.m. 77 degrees11 p.m. 76 degrees5.30 a.m. 76 degrees

This is a very great rise (of 4 degrees) above any of thosepreviously obtained, and certainly indicates a much higher meantemperature of the locality. I can only suppose it due to theradiation of heat from the long range of sandstone cliff, exposed tothe south, which overlooks the flat whereon we were encamped, andwhich, though four or five miles off, forms a very important feature.The differences of temperature in the shade taken on this and theother side of the river are 2.75 degrees higher on this side.

On the 17th we marched to Akbarpore (alt. 400. feet), a villageoverhung by the rocky precipice of Rotasghur, a spur of the Kymore,standing abruptly forward.

The range, in proceeding up the Soane valley, gradually approachesthe river, and beds of non-fossiliferous limestone are seenprotruding below the sandstone and occasionally rising into roundedhills, the paths upon which appear as white as do those through thechalk districts of England. The overlying beds of sandstone arenearly horizontal, or with a dip to the N.W.; the subjacent ones oflimestone dip at a greater angle. Passing between the river and adetached conical hill of limestone, capped with a flat mass ofsandstone, the spur of Rotas broke suddenly on the view, and verygrand it was, quite realising my anticipations of the position ofthese eyrie-like hill-forts of India. To the left of the spur windsthe valley of the Soane, with low-wooded hills on its opposite bank,and a higher range, connected with that of Behar, in the distance.To the right, the hills sweep round, forming an immense andbeautifully wooded amphitheatre, about four miles deep, bounded witha continuation of the escarpment. At the foot of the crowned spur isthe village of Akbarpore, where we encamped in a Mango tope;* [On the24th of June, 1848, the Soane rose to an unprecedented height, andlaid this grove of Mangos three feet under water.] it occupies somepretty undulating limestone hills, amongst which several streams flowfrom the amphitheatre to the Soane.

During our two days' stay here, I had the advantage of the society ofMr. C. E. Davis, who was our guide during some rambles in theneighbourhood, and to whose experience, founded on the best habits ofobservation, I am indebted for much information. At noon we startedto ascend to the palace, on the top of the spur. On the way we passeda beautiful well, sixty feet deep, and with a fine flight of steps tothe bottom. Now neglected and overgrown with flowering weeds andcreepers, it afforded me many of the plants I had only previouslyobtained in a withered state; it was curious to observe there some ofthe species of the hill-tops, whose seeds doubtless are scatteredabundantly over the surrounding plains, and only vegetate where theyfind a coolness and moisture resembling that of the altitude theyelsewhere affect. A fine fig-tree growing out of the stone-workspread its leafy green branches over the well mouth, which was abouttwelve feet square; its roots assumed a singular form, enveloping twosides of the walls with a beautiful net-work, which at high-watermark (rainy season), abruptly divides into thousands of littlebrushes, dipping into the water which they fringe. It was a prettycool place to descend to, from a temperature of 80 degrees above, to74 degrees at the bottom, where the water was 60 degrees; and mostrefreshing to look, either up the shaft to the green fig shadowingthe deep profound, or along the sloping steps through a vista offlowering herbs and climbing plants, to the blue heaven of aburning sky.

The ascent to Rotas is over the dry hills of limestone, covered witha scrubby brushwood, to a crest where are the first rude and ruineddefences. The limestone is succeeded by the sandstone cliff cut intosteps, which led from ledge to ledge and gap to gap, well guardedwith walls and an archway of solid masonry. Through this we passed onto the flat summit of the Kymore hills, covered with grass andforest, intersected by paths in all directions. The ascent is about1200 feet—a long pull in the blazing sun of February. The turfconsists chiefly of spear-grass and Andropogon muricatus, thekus-kus, which yields a favourite fragrant oil, used as a medicine inIndia. The trees are of the kinds mentioned before. A prettyoctagonal summer-house, with its roof supported by pillars, occupiesone of the highest points of the plateau, and commands a superb viewof the scenery before described. From this a walk of three milesleads through the woods to the palace. The buildings are veryextensive, and though now ruinous, bear evidence of great beauty inthe architecture: light galleries, supported by slender columns, longcool arcades, screened squares and terraced walks, are the principalfeatures. The rooms open out upon flat roofs, commanding views of thelong endless table-land to the west, and a sheer precipice of 1000feet on the other side, with the Soane, the amphitheatre of hills,and the village of Akbarpore below.

This and Beejaghur, higher up the Soane, were amongst the mostrecently reduced forts, and this was further the last of thosewrested from Baber in 1542. Some of the rooms are still habitable,but the greater part are ruinous, and covered with climbers, both ofwild flowers and of the naturalised garden plants of the adjoiningshrubbery; the Arbor-tristis, with Hibiscus, Abutilon,etc., and above all, the little yellow-flowered Linariaramosissima, crawling over every ruined wall, as we see thewalls of our old English castles clothed with its congenerL. Cymbalaria.

In the old dark stables I observed the soil to be covered with acopious evanescent efflorescence of nitrate of lime, like soap-sudsscattered about.

I made Rotas Palace 1490 feet above the sea, so that this table-landis here only fifty feet higher than that I had crossed on the grandtrunk road, before descending at the Dunwah pass. Its meantemperature is of course considerably (4 degrees) below that of thevalley, but though so cool, agues prevail after the rains.The extremes of temperature are less marked than in the valley, whichbecomes excessively heated, and where hot winds sometimes last for aweek, blowing in furious gusts.

The climate of the whole neighbourhood has of late changedmaterially; and the fall of rain has much diminished, consequent onfelling the forests; even within six years the hail-storms have beenfar less frequent and violent. The air on the hills is highlyelectrical, owing, no doubt, to the dryness of the atmosphere, and tothis the frequent recurrence of hail-storms may be due.

The zoology of these regions is tolerably copious, but little isknown of the natural history of a great part of the plateau; a nativetribe, prone to human sacrifices, is talked of. Tigers are common,and bears are numerous; they have, besides, the leopard, panther,viverine cat, and civet; and of the dog tribe the pariah, jackal,fox, and wild dog, called Koa. Deer are very numerous, of six orseven kinds. A small alligator inhabits the hill streams, said to bea very different animal from either of the Soane species.

During our descent we examined several instances of ripple-mark(fossil waves' footsteps) in the sandstone; they resembled thefluting of the Sigillaria stems, in the coal-measures, andoccurring as they did here, in sandstone, a little above great bedsof limestone, had been taken for such, and as indications of coal.

On the following day we visited Rajghat, a steep ghat or pass leadingup the cliff to Rotas Palace, a little higher up the river. We tookthe elephants to the mouth of the glen, where we dismounted, andwhence we followed a stream abounding in small fish and aquaticinsects (Dytisci and Gyrini), through a close jungle,to the foot of the cliffs, where there are indications of coal.The woods were full of monkeys, and amongst other plants I observedMurraya exotica, but it was scarce. Though the jungle was sodense, the woods were very dry, containing no Palm, Adroideae,Peppers, Orchideae or Ferns. Here, at the foot of the redcliffs, which towered imposingly above, as seen through the treetops, are several small seams of coaly matter in the sandstone, withabundance of pyrites, sulphur, and copious efflorescences of salts ofiron; but no coal. The springs from the cliffs above are charged withlime, of which enormous tuff beds are deposited on the sandstone,full of impressions of the leaves and stems of the surrounding trees,which, however, I found it very difficult to recognize, and could nothelp contrasting this circ*mstance with the fact that geologists,unskilled in botany, see no difficulty in referring equally imperfectremains of extinct vegetables to existing genera. In some parts oftheir course the streams take up quantities of the efflorescence,which they scatter over the sandstones in a singular manner.

At Akbarpore I had sunk two thermometers, one 4 feet 6 inches, theother 5 feet 6 inches; both invariably indicated 76 degrees, the airvarying from 56 degrees to 79.5 degrees. Dew had formed every nightsince leaving Dunwah, the grass being here cooled 12 degrees belowthe air.

On the 19th of February we marched up the Soane to Tura, passing somelow hills of limestone, between the cliffs of the Kymore and theriver. On the shaded riverbanks grew abundance of English genera—Cynoglossum, Veronica, Potentilla, Ranunculus sceleratus, Rumex,several herbaceous Compositae and Labiatae; Tamarix formed asmall bush in rocky hillocks in the bed of the river, and in poolswere several aquatic plants, Zannichellia, Chara, a pretty littleVallisneria, and Potamogeton. The Brahminee goose was commonhere, and we usually saw in the morning immense flocks of wild geeseoverhead, migrating northward.

Here I tried again the effect of solar and nocturnal radiation on thesand, at different depths, not being able to do so on the alluvium.

Noon:Temperature of air 87 degreesSurface 110 degrees1 inch 102 degrees2 inches 93.5 degrees4 inches 84 degrees8 inches 77 degrees (sand wet)16 inches 76 degrees (sand wet)Daylight of following morning:Surface 52 degrees1 inch 55 degrees2 inches 58 degrees4 inches 67 degrees8 inches 73 degrees (sand wet)16 inches 74 degrees (sand wet)

From Tura our little army again crossed the Soane, the scarped cliffsof the Kymore approaching close to the river on the west side.The bed is very sandy, and about one mile and a half across.

The elephants were employed again, as at Baroon, to push the cart:one of them had a bump in consequence, as large as a child's head,just above the trunk, and bleeding much; but the brave beastdisregarded this, when the word of command was given by his driver.

The stream was very narrow, but deep and rapid, obstructed with bedsof coarse agate, jasper, cornelian and chalcedony pebbles. A clumsyboat took us across to the village of Soanepore, a wretchedcollection of hovels. The crops were thin and poor, and I saw nopalms or good trees. Squirrels however abounded, and were busy layingup their stores; descending from the trees they scoured across a roadto a field of tares, mounted the hedge, took an observation, foragedand returned up the tree with their booty, quickly descended, andrepeated the operation of reconnoitering and plundering.

The bed of the river is here considerably above that at Dearee, wherethe mean of the observations with those of Baroon, made it about 300feet. The mean of those taken here and on the opposite side, at Tura,gives about 400 feet, indicating a fall of 100 feet in only 40 miles.

Near this the sandy banks of the Soane were full of martins' nests,each one containing a pair of eggs. The deserted ones were literallycrammed full of long-legged spiders (Opilio), which could beraked out with a stick, when they came pouring down the cliff likecorn from a sack; the quantities are quite inconceivable. I did notobserve the martin feed on them.

The entomology here resembled that of Europe, more than I hadexpected in a tropical country, where predaceous beetles, at leastCarabideae and Staphylinideae, are generally consideredrare. The latter tribes swarmed under the clods, of many species butall small, and so singularly active that I could not give the time tocollect many. In the banks again, the round egg-like earthy chrysalisof the Sphynx Atropos (?) and the many-celled nidus of theleaf-cutter bee, were very common.

A large columnar Euphorbia (E. ligulata) is common all along theSoane, and I observed it to be used everywhere for fencing. I had notremarked the E. neriifolia; and the E. tereticaulis had been veryrarely seen since leaving Calcutta. The Cactus is nowhere found; itis abundant in many parts of Bengal, but certainly not indigenous.

Illustration —CROSSING THE SOANE, WITH THE KYMORE HILLS IN THE
DISTANCE.

From this place onwards up the Soane, there was no road of any kind,and we were compelled to be our own road engineers. The sameness ofthe vegetation and lateness of the season made me regret this theless, for I was disappointed in my anticipations of findingluxuriance and novelty in these wilds. Before us the valley narrowedconsiderably, the forest became denser, the country on the south sidewas broken with rounded hills, and on the north the noble cliffs ofthe Kymore dipped down to the river. The villages were smaller, morescattered and poverty-stricken, with the Mahowa and Mango as theusual trees; the banyan, peepul, and tamarind being rare. The native,are of an aboriginal jungle race; and are tall, athletic, erect, muchless indolent and more spirited than the listless natives ofthe plains.

February 21.—Started at daylight: but so slow and difficultwas our progress through fields and woods, and across deep gorgesfrom the hills, that we only advanced five miles in the day; theelephant's head too was aching too badly to let him push, and thecattle would not proceed when the draught was not equal. What wasworse, it was impossible to get them to pull together up the inclinedplanes we cut, except by placing a man at the head of each of thesix, eight, or ten in a team, and simultaneously screwing round theirtails; when one tortured animal sometimes capsizes the vehicle.The small carts got on better, though it was most nervous to see themrushing down the steeps, especially those with our fragileinstruments, etc.

Kosdera, where we halted, is a pretty place, elevated 440 feet, witha broad stream front the hills flowing past it. These hills are oflimestone, and rounded, resting upon others of hornstone and jasper.Following up the stream I came to some rapids, where the stream iscrossed by large beds of hornstone and porphyry rocks, excessivelyhard, and pitched up at right angles, or with a bold dip to thenorth. The number of strata was very great, and only a few inches oreven lines thick: they presented all varieties of jasper, hornstone,and quartz of numerous colours, with occasional seams of porphyry orbreccia. The racks were elegantly fringed with a fern I had nothitherto seen, Polypodium proliferum, which is the onlyspecies the Soane valley presents at this season.

Returning over the hills, I found Hardwickia binata, a mostelegant leguminous tree, tall, erect, with an elongated coma, and thebranches pendulous. These trees grew in a shallow bed of alluvium,enclosing abundance of agate pebbles and kunker, the former derivedfrom the quartzy strata above noticed.

On the 23rd and 24th we continued to follow up the Soane, first toPanchadurma (alt. 490 feet), and thence to Pepura (alt. 587 feet),the country becoming densely wooded, very wild, and picturesque, thewoods being full of monkeys, parrots, peaco*cks, hornbills, and wildanimals. Strychnos potatorum, whose berries are used to purifywater, forms a dense foliaged tree, 30 to 60 feet high, someindividuals pale yellow, others deep green, both in apparent health.Feronia Elephantum and Aegle marmelos* [The Bhel fruit, latelyintroduced into English medical practice, as an astringent of greateffect, in cases of diarrhoea and dysentery.] were very abundant,with Sterculia, and the dwarf date-palm.

One of my carts was here hopelessly broken down; advancing on thespokes instead of the tire of the wheels. By the banks of a deepgully here the rocks are well exposed: they consist of soft clayshales resting on the limestone, which is nearly horizontal; and thisagain, unconformably on the quartz and hornstone rocks, which areconfused, and tilted up at all angles.

A spur of the Kymore, like that of Rotas, here projects to the bed ofthe river, and was blazing at night with the beacon-like fires of thenatives, lighted to scare the tigers and bears from the spots wherethey cut wood and bamboo; they afforded a splendid spectacle, theflames in some places leaping zig-zag from hill to hill in front ofus, and looking as if a gigantic letter W were written in fire.

The night was bright and clear, with much lightning, the latterattracted to the spur, and darting down as it were to mingle its firewith that of the forest; so many flashes appeared to strike on theflames, that it is probable the heated air in their neighbourhoodattracted them. We were awakened between 3 and 4 a.m., by a violentdust-storm, which threatened to carry away the tents. Our position atthe mouth of the gulley formed by the opposite hills, no doubtaccounted for it. The gusts were so furious that it was impossible toobserve the barometer, which I returned to its case on ascertainingthat any indications of a rise or fall in the column must have beenquite trifling. The night had been oppressively hot, with manyinsects flying about; amongst which I noticed earwigs, a genuserroneously supposed rarely to take to the wing in Britain.

At 8.30 a.m. it suddenly fell calm, and we proceeded to Chanchee(alt. 500 feet), the native carts breaking down in their passage overthe projecting beds of flinty rocks, or as they burned down theinclined planes we cut through the precipitous clay banks of thestreams. Near Chanchee we passed an alligator, just killed by twomen, a foul beast, about nine feet long, of the mugger kind.More absorbing than its natural history was the circ*mstance of itshaving swallowed a child, that was playing in the water as its motherwas washing her utensils in the river. The brute was hardly dead,much distended by the prey, and the mother was standing beside it.A very touching group was this: the parent with her hands clasped inagony, unable to withdraw her eyes from the cursed reptile, whichstill clung to life with that tenacity for which its tribe are soconspicuous; beside these the two athletes leaned on the bloodybamboo staffs, with which they had all but despatched the animal.

This poor woman earned a scanty maintenance by making catechu:inhabiting a little cottage, and having no property but two cattle tobring wood from the hills, and a very few household chattels; and howfew of these they only know who have seen the meagre furniture ofDanga hovels. Her husband cut the trees in the forest and draggedthem to the hut, but at this time he was sick, and her only boy, herfuture stay, it was, whom the beast had devoured.

This province is famous for the quantity of catechu its dry forestsyield. The plant (Acacia) is a little thorny tree, erect, andbearing a rounded head of well remembered prickly branches. Its woodis yellow, with a dark brick-red heart, most profitable in Januaryand useless in June (for yielding the extract).

Illustration — SOANE VALLEY AND KYMORE HILLS COCHLOSPERMUM GOSSYPIUM
AND BUTEA FRONDOSA IN FLOWER.

The Butea frondosa was abundantly in flower here, and a gorgeoussight. In mass the inflorescence resembles sheets of flame, andindividually the flowers are eminently beautiful, the brightorange-red petals contrasting brilliantly against the jet-blackvelvety calyx. The nest of the Megachile (leaf-cutter bee) was inthousands in the cliffs, with Mayflies, Caddis-worms, spiders, andmany predaceous beetles. Lamellicorn beetles were very rare, evenAphodius, and of Cetoniae I did not see one.

We marched on the 28th to Kota, at the junction of the river of thatname with the Soane, over hills of flinty rock, which projectedeverywhere, to the utter ruin of the elephants' feet, and then overundulating hills of limestone; on the latter I found trees ofCochlospermum, whose curious thick branches spread outsomewhat awkwardly, each tipped with a cluster of golden yellowflowers, as large as the palm of the hand, and very beautiful: it isa tropical Gum-Cistus in the appearance and texture of the petals,and their frail nature. The bark abounds in a transparent gum, ofwhich the white ants seem fond, for they had killed many trees.Of the leaves the curious rude leaf-bellows are made, with which thenatives of these hills smelt iron. Scorpions appeared very commonhere, of a small kind, 1.5 inch long; several were captured, and oneof our party was stung on the finger; the smart was burning for anhour or two, and then ceased.

At Kota we were nearly opposite the cliffs at Beejaghur, where coalis reported to exist; and here we again crossed the Soane, and forthe last time. The ford is three miles up the river, and we marchedto it through deep sand. The bed of the river is here 500 feet abovethe sea, and about three-quarters of a mile broad, the rapid streambeing 50 or 60 yards wide, and breast deep. The sand is firm andsiliceous, with no mica; nodules of coal are said to be washed downthus far from the coal-beds of Burdee, a good deal higher up, but wesaw none.

The cliffs come close to the river on the opposite side, their basesclothed with woods which teemed with birds. The soil is richer, andindividual trees, especially of Bombax, Terminalia and Mahowa,very fine; one tree of the Hardwickia, about 120 feet high, was ashandsome a monarch of the forest as I ever saw, and it is not oftenthat one sees trees in the tropics, which for a combination of beautyin outline, harmony of colour, and arrangement of branches andfoliage, would form so striking an addition to an English park.

There is a large break in the Kymore hills here, beyond the villageof Kunch, through which our route lay to Beejaghur, and the Ganges atMirzapore; the cliff's leaving the river and trending to the north ina continuous escarpment flanked with low ranges of rounded hills, andterminating in an abrupt spur (Mungeesa Peak) whose summit wascovered with a ragged forest. At Kunch we saw four alligatorssleeping in the river, looking at a distance like logs of wood, allof the short-nosed or mugger kind, dreaded by man and beast; I sawnone of the sharp-shouted (or garial), so common on the Ganges, wheretheir long bills, with a garniture of teeth and prominent eyespeeping out of the water, remind one of geological lectures andvisions of Ichthyosauri. Tortoises were frequent in the river,basking on the rocks, and popping into the water when approached.

On the 1st of March we left the Soane, and struck inland over a roughhilly country, covered with forest, fully 1000 feet below the top ofthe Kymore table-land, which here recedes from the river andsurrounds an undulating plain, some ten miles either way, facing thesouth. The roads, or rather pathways, were very bad, and quiteimpassable for the carts without much engineering, cutting throughforest, smoothing down the banks of the watercourses to be crossed,and clearing away the rocks as we best might. We traversed the emptybed of a mountain torrent, with perpendicular banks of alluvium 30feet high, and thence plunged into a dense forest. Our course wasdirected towards Mungeesa Peak, the remarkable projecting spur,between which and a conical hill the path led. Whether on theelephants or on foot, the thorny jujubes, Acacias, etc. weremost troublesome, and all our previous scratchings were nothing tothis. Peaco*cks and jungle-fowl were very frequent, the squabbling ofthe former and the hooting of the monkeys constantly grating on theear. There were innumerable pigeons and a few Floricans (a kind ofbustard—considered the best eating game—bird in India). From thedefile we emerged on an open flat, halting at Sulkun, a scatteredvillage (alt. 684 feet), peopled by a bold-looking race (Coles)* [TheColes, like the Danghas of the Rajmahal and Behar hills, and thenatives of the mountains of the peninsula, form one of the aboriginaltribes of British India, and are widely different people from eitherthe Hindoos or Mussulmen.] who habitually carry the spear and shield.We had here the pleasure of meeting Mr. Felle, an English gentlemanemployed in the Revenue department; this being one of the roads alongwhich the natives transport their salt, sugar, etc., from oneprovince to another.

In the afternoon, I examined the conical hill, which, like that nearRotas, is of stratified beds of limestone, capped with sandstone.A stream runs round its base, cutting through the alluvium to thesubjacent rock, which is exposed, and contains flattened spheres oflimestone. These spheres are from the size of a fist to a child'shead, or even much larger; they are excessively hard, and neitherlaminated nor formed of concentric layers. At the top of the hill thesandstone cap was perpendicular on all sides, and its dry top coveredwith small trees, especially of Cochlospermum. A few largertrees of Fici clung to the edge of the rocks, and by forcingtheir roots into the interstices detached enormous masses, affordinggood dens for bears and other wild animals. From the top, the view ofrock, river, forest, and plain, was very fine, the eye ranging over abroad flat, girt by precipitous hills;—West, the Kymore or Vindhyarange rose again in rugged elevations; South, flowed the Soane,backed by ranges of wooded hills, smoking like volcanos with thefires of the natives;—below, lay the bed of the stream we had leftat the foot of the hills, cutting its way through the alluvium, andfollowing a deep gorge to the Soane, which was there hidden by therugged heights we had crossed, on which the greater part of our campmight be seen still straggling onwards;—east, and close above us,the bold spur of Mungeesa shot up, terminating a continuous stretchof red precipices, clothed with forest along their bases, and overtheir horizontal tops.

From Sulkun the view of the famed fort and palace of Beejaghur isvery singular, planted on the summit of an isolated hill ofsandstone, about ten miles off. A large tree by the palace marks itssite; for, at this distance, the buildings are themselvesundistinguishable.

There are many tigers on these hills; and as one was close by, andhad killed several cattle, Mr. Felle kindly offered us a chance ofslaying him. Bullocks are tethered out, over-night, in the placeslikely to be visited by the brute; he kills one of them, and is fromthe spot tracked to his haunt by natives, who visit the stationsearly in the morning, and report the whereabouts of his lair.The sportsman then goes to the attack mounted on an elephant, orhaving a roost fixed in a tree, on the trail of the tiger, and heemploys some hundred natives to drive the animal past thelurking-place.

On the present occasion, the locale of the tiger was doubtful; but itwas thought that by beating over several miles of country he (or atany rate, some other game) might be driven past a certain spot.Thither, accordingly, the natives were sent, who built machans(stages) in the trees, high out of danger's reach; Mr. Theobald andmyself occupied one of these perches in a Hardwickia tree, andMr. Felle another, close by, both on the slope of a steep hill,surrounded by jungly valleys. We were also well thatched in withleafy boughs, to prevent the wary beast from espying the ambush, andhad a whole stand of shall arms ready for his reception.

When roosted aloft, and duly charged to keep profound silence (whichI obeyed to the letter, by falling sound asleep), the word was passedto the beaters, who surrounded our post on the plain-side, extendingsome miles in line, and full two or three distant from us.They entered the jungle, beating tom-toms, singing and shouting asthey advanced, and converging towards our position. In the noondaysolitude of these vast forests, our situation was romantic enough:there was not a breath of wind, an insect or bird stirring; and thewild cries of the men, and the hollow sound of the drums broke uponthe ear from a great distance, gradually swelling and falling, as thenatives ascended the heights or crossed the valleys. After about anhour and a half, the beaters emerged from the jungle under ourretreat; one by one, two by two, but preceded by no single livingthing, either mouse, bird, deer, or bear, and much less tiger.The beaters received about a penny a-piece for the day's work; a richguerdon for these poor wretches, whom necessity sometimes drives tofeed on rats and offal.

We were detained three days at Sulkun, from inability to get on withthe carts; and as the pass over the Kymore to the north (on the wayto Mirzapore) was to be still worse, I took advantage of Mr. Felle'skind offer of camels and elephants to make the best of my wayforward, accompanying that gentleman, en route, to hisresidence at Shahgunj, on the table-land.

Both the climate and natural history of this flat on which Sulkunstands, are similar to those of the banks of the Soane; the crops arewretched. At this season the dryness of the atmosphere is excessive:our nails cracked, and skins peeled, whilst all articles of wood,tortoiseshell, etc., broke on the slightest blow. The air, too, wasalways highly electrical, and the dew-point was frequently 40 degreesbelow the temperature of the air.

The natives are far from honest: they robbed one of the tents placedbetween two others, wherein a light was burning. One gentleman in itwas awake, and on turning saw five men at his bedside, who escapedwith a bag of booty, in the shape of clothes, and a tempting strongbrass-bound box, containing private letters. The clothes they droppedoutside, but the box of letters was carried off. There were about ahundred people asleep outside the tents, between whose many fires therogues must have passed, eluding also the guard, who were, or oughtto have been, awake.

CHAPTER III.

Ek-powa Ghat — Sandstones — Shahgunj — Table-land, elevation, etc.
— Gum-arabic — Mango — Fair — Aquatic plants — Rujubbund —
Storm — False sunset and sunrise — Bind hills — Mirzapore —
Manufactures, imports, etc. — Climate of — Thuggee — Chunar —
Benares — Mosque — Observatory — Sar-nath — Ghazeepore —
Rose-gardens — Manufactory of Attar — Lord Cornwallis' tomb —
Ganges, scenery and natural history of — Pelicans — Vegetation —
Insects — Dinapore — Patna — Opium godowns and manufacture —
Mudar, white and purple — Monghyr islets — Hot Springs of Setakoond
— Alluvium of Ganges — Rocks of Sultun-gunj — Bhaugulpore —
Temples of Mt. Manden — Coles and native tribes — Bhaugulpore
rangers — Horticultural gardens.

On the 3rd of March I bade farewell to Mr. Williams and his kindparty, and rode over a plain to the village of Markunda, at the footof the Ghat. There the country becomes very rocky and wooded, and astream is crossed, which runs over a flat bed of limestone, crackedinto the appearance of a tesselated pavement. For many miles there isno pass over the Kymore range, except this, significantly called"Ek-powa-Ghat" (one-foot Ghat). It is evidently a fault, orshifting of the rocks, producing so broken a cliff as to admit of apath winding over the shattered crags. On either side, the precipicesare extremely steep, of horizontally stratified rocks, continued inan unbroken line, and the views across the plain and Soane valley,over which the sun was now setting, were superb. At the summit weentered on a dead flat plain or table-land, with no hills, exceptalong the brim of the broad valley we had left, where are somecurious broad pyramids, formed of slabs of sandstone arranged insteps. By dark we reached the village of Roump (alt. 1090 feet),beyond the top of the pass.

On the next day I proceeded on a small, fast, and wofullyhigh-trotting elephant, to Shahgunj, where I enjoyed Mr. Felle'shospitality for a few days. The country here, though elevated, is,from the nature of the soil and formation, much more fertile thanwhat I had left. Water is abundant, both in tanks and wells, andrice-fields, broad and productive, cover the ground; while groves oftamarinds and mangos, now loaded with blossoms, occur atevery village.

It is very singular that the elevation of this table-land (1100 feetat Shahgunj) should coincide with that of the granite range of UpperBengal, where crossed by the grand trunk road, though they have nofeature but the presence of alluvium in common. Scarce a hillockvaries the surface here, and the agricultural produce of the two iswidely different. Here the flat ledges of sandstone retain themoisture, and give rise to none of those impetuous torrents whichsweep it off the inclined beds of gneiss, or splintered quartz.Nor is there here any of the effloresced salts so forbidding tovegetation where they occur. Wherever the alluvium is deep on thesehills, neither Catechu, Olibanum, Butea, Terminalia, Diospyros,dwarf-palm, or any of those plants are to be met with, which aboundwherever the rock is superficial, and irrespectively of itsmineral characters.

The gum-arabic Acacia is abundant here, though not seen below,and very rare to the eastward of this meridian, for I saw but littleof it in Behar. It is a plant partial to a dry climate, and ratherprefers a good soil. In its distribution it in some degree followsthe range of the camel, which is its constant companion overthousands of leagues. In the valley of the Ganges I was told thatneither the animal nor plant flourish east of the Soane, where Iexperienced a marked change in the humidity of the atmosphere on mypassage down the Ganges. It was a circ*mstance I was interested in,having first met with the camel at Teneriffe and the Cape VerdIslands, the westernmost limit of its distribution; imported thither,however, as it now is into Australia, where, though there is noAcacia Arabica, four hundred other species of the genusare known.

The mango, which is certainly the fruit of India, (as thepine-apple is of the Eastern Islands, and the orange of the West,)was now blossoming, and a superb sight. The young leaves arepurplish-green, and form a curious contrast to the deep lurid hue ofthe older foliage; especially when the tree is (which often occurs)dimidiate, one half the green, and the other the red shades ofcolours; when in full blossom, all forms a mass of yellow, diffusinga fragrance rather too strong and peculiar to be pleasant.

We passed a village where a large fair was being held, and singularlyfamiliar its arrangements were to my early associations. The womenand children are the prime customers; for the latterwhirl-you-go-rounds, toys, and sweetmeats were destined; to tempt theformer, little booths of gay ornaments, patches for the forehead,ear-rings of quaint shapes, bugles and beads. Here as at home, Iremarked that the vendors of these superfluities occupy theapproaches to this Vanity-Fair. As, throughout the East, the tradesare congregated into particular quarters of the cities, so here theitinerants grouped themselves into little bazaars for each class ofcommodity. Whilst I was engaged in purchasing a few articles ofnative workmanship, my elephant made an attack on a sweetmeat stall,demolishing a magnificent erection of barley-sugar, before hisproceedings could be put a stop to.

Mr. Felle's bungalow (whose garden smiled with roses in thiswilderness) was surrounded by a moat (fed by a spring), which wasfull of aquatic plants, Nymphaea, Damasonium, Villarsia cristata,Aponogeton, three species of Potamogeton, two of Naias, Charaand Zannichellia (the two latter indifferently, and often together,used in the refinement of sugar). In a large tank hard by, wholly fedby rain water, I observed only the Villarsia Indica, noAponogeton, Nymphaea, or Dammonium, nor did these occur in any ofthe other tanks I examined, which were otherwise well peopled withplants. This may not be owing to the quality of the water so much asto its varying quantity in the tank.

All around here, as at Roump, is a dead flat, except towards thecrest of the ghats which overhang the valley of the Soane, and therethe sandstone rock rises by steps into low hills. During a ride to anatural tank amongst these rocky elevations, I passed from thealluvium to the sandstone, and at once met with all the prevailingplants of the granite, gneiss, limestone and hornstone rockspreviously examined, and which I have enumerated too often to requirerecapitulation; a convincing proof that the mechanical properties andnot the chemical constitution of the rocks regulate the distributionof these plants.

Rujubbund (the pleasant spot), is a small tarn, or more properly theexpanded bed of a stream, art having aided nature in its formation:it is edged by rocks and cliffs fringed with the usual trees of theneighbourhood; it is a wild and pretty spot, not unlike somebirch-bordered pool in the mountains of Wales or Scotland,sequestered and picturesque. It was dark before I got back, withheavy clouds and vivid lightning approaching from the south-west.The day had been very hot (3 p.m., 90 degrees), and the evening thesame; but the barometer did not foretell the coming tempest, whichbroke with fury at 7 p.m., blowing open the doors, and accompaniedwith vivid lightning and heavy thunder, close by and all round,though no rain fell.

In the clear dry mornings of these regions, a curious opticalphenomena may be observed, of a sunrise in the west, and sunsetin the east. In either case, bright and well-defined beams rise tothe zenith, often crossing to the opposite horizon. It is a beautifulfeature in the firmament, and equally visible whether the horizon becloudy or clear, the white beams being projected indifferentlyagainst a dark vapour or the blue serene. The zodiacal light shinesfrom an hour or two after sunset till midnight, with singularbrightness, almost equalling the milky way.

March 7.-Left Shahgunj for Mirzapore, following the road toGoorawal, over a dead alluvial flat without a feature to remark.Turning north from that village, the country undulates, exposing therocky nucleus, and presenting the usual concomitant vegetation.Occasionally park-like views occurred, which, where diversified bythe rocky valleys, resemble much the noble scenery of the Forest ofDean on the borders of Wales; the Mahowa especiallyrepresenting the oak, with its spreading and often gnarled branches.Many of the exposed slabs of sandstone are beautifully waved on thesurface with the ripple-mark impression.

Amowee, where I arrived at 9 p.m., is on an open grassy flat, aboutfifteen miles from the Ganges, which is seen from the neighbourhood,flowing among trees, with the white houses, domes, and temples ofMirzapore scattered around, and high above which the dust-clouds werecoursing along the horizon.

Mr. Money, the magistrate of Mirzapore, kindly sent a mountedmessenger to meet me here, who had vast trouble in getting bearersfor my palkee. In it I proceeded the next day to Mirzapore,descending a steep ghat of the Bind hills by an excellent road, tothe level plains of the Ganges. Unlike the Dunwah pass, this iswholly barren. At the foot the sun was intensely hot, the roadsalternately rocky and dusty, the villages thronged with a widelydifferent looking race from those of the hills, and the whole air ofthe outskirts, on a sultry afternoon, far from agreeable.

Mirzapore is a straggling town, said to contain 100,000 inhabitants.It flanks the river, and is built on an undulating alluvial bank,full of kunker, elevated 360 feet above the sea, and from 50 to 80above the present level of the river. The vicinity of the Ganges andits green bank, and the numbers of fine trees around, render it apleasing, though not a fine town. It presents the usual Asiaticcontrast of squalor and gaudiness; consisting of large squares andbroad streets, interspersed with acres of low huts and groves oftrees. It is celebrated for its manufactory of carpets, which areadmirable in appearance, and, save in durability, equal to theEnglish. Indigo seed from Bundelkund is also a most extensive articleof commerce, the best coming from the Doab. For cotton, lac, sugar,and saltpetre, it is one of the greatest marts in India. The articlesof native manufacture are brass washing and cooking utensils, andstone deities worked out of the sandstone.

There is little native vegetation, the country being covered withcultivation and extensive groves of mango, and occasionally of guava.English vegetables are abundant and excellent, and the strawberries,which ripen in March, rival the European fruit in size, but hardlyin flavour.

During the few days spent at Mirzapore with my kind friend, Mr. C.Hamilton, I was surprised to find the temperature of the day coolerby nearly 4 degrees than that of the hills above, or of the upperpart of the Soane valley; while on the other hand the nights weredecidedly warmer. The dewpoint again was even lower in proportion,(72 degrees) and the climate consequently drier. The atmosphere wasextremely dry and electrical, the hair constantly crackling whencombed. Further west, where the climate becomes still drier, theelectricity of the air is even greater. Mr. Griffith mentions in hisjournal that in filling barometer tubes in Affghanistan, heconstantly experienced a shock.

Here I had the pleasure of meeting Lieutenant Ward, one of thesuppressors of Thuggee (Thuggee, in Hindostan, signifies adeceiver; fraud, not open force, being employed). This gentlemankindly showed me the approvers or king's evidence of hisestablishment, belonging to those three classes of human scourges,the Thug, Dakoit, and Poisoner. Of these the first was the Thug, amild-looking man, who had been born and bred to the profession: hehad committed many murders, saw no harm in them, and felt neithershame nor remorse. His organs of observation and destructiveness werelarge, and the cerebellum small. He explained to me how the gangwaylay the unwary traveller, enter into conversation with him, andhave him suddenly seized, when the superior throws his own linengirdle round the victim's neck and strangles him, pressing theknuckles against the spine. Taking off his own, he passed it round myarm, and showed me the turn as coolly as a sailor once taught me thehangman's knot. The Thug is of any caste, and from any partof India. The profession have particular stations, which theygenerally select for murder, throwing the body of their victim intoa well.

The Dakoit (dakhee, a robber) belongs to a class who rob ingangs, but never commit murder—arson and housebreaking also formingpart of their profession. These are all high-class Rajpoots,originally from Guzerat; who, on being conquered, vowed vengeance onmankind. They speak both Hindostanee and the otherwise extinctGuzerat language; this is guttural in the extreme, and very singularin sound. They are a very remarkable people, found throughout India,and called by various names; their women dress peculiarly, and areutterly devoid of modesty. The man I examined was a short, square,but far from powerful Nepalese, with high arched eyebrows, and noorgans of observation. These people are great cowards.

The Poisoners all belong to one caste, of Pasie, or dealers in toddy:they go singly or in gangs, haunting the travellers' resting-places,where they drop half a rupee weight of pounded or whole Daturaseeds into his food, producing a twenty-hours' intoxication, duringwhich he is robbed, and left to recover or sink under the stupifyingeffects of the narcotic. He told me that the Datura seed isgathered without ceremony, and at any time, place, or age of theplant. He was a dirty, ill-conditioned looking fellow, with no bumpsbehind his ears, or prominence of eyebrow region, but a remarkablecerebellum.

Though now all but extinct (except in Cuttack), through ten orfifteen years of unceasing vigilance on the part of Government, andincredible activity and acuteness in the officers employed, the Thugswere formerly a wonderfully numerous body, who abstained from theirvocation solely in the immediate neighbourhood of their own villages;which, however, were not exempt from the visits of other Thugs; sothat, as Major Sleeman says,—"The annually returning tide of murderswept unsparingly over the whole face of India, from the Sutlej tothe sea-coast, and from the Himalaya to Cape Comorin. One narrowdistrict alone was free, the Concan, beyond the ghats, whither theynever penetrated." In Bengal, river Thugs replace the travellingpractitioner. Candeish and Rohilkund alone harboured no Thugs asresidents, but they were nevertheless haunted by the gangs.

Their origin is uncertain, but supposed to be very ancient, soonafter the Mahommedan conquest. They now claim a divine original, andare supposed to have supernatural powers, and to be the emissaries ofthe divinity, like the wolf, the tiger, and the bear. It is onlylately that they have swarmed so prodigiously,—seven original gangshaving migrated from Delhi to the Gangetic provinces about 200 yearsago, and from these all the rest have sprung. Many belong to the mostamiable, intelligent, and respectable classes of the lower and evenmiddle ranks: they love their profession, regard murder as sport, andare never haunted with dreams, or troubled with pangs of conscienceduring hours of solitude, or in the last moments of life. The victimis an acceptable sacrifice to the goddess Davee, who by some classesis supposed to eat the lifeless body, and thus save her votaries thenecessity of concealing it.

They are extremely superstitious, always consulting omens, such asthe direction in which a hare or jackall crosses the road; and evenfar more trivial circ*mstances will determine the fate of a dozen ofpeople, and perhaps of an immense treasure. All worship the pickaxe,which is symbolical of their profession, and an oath sworn on itbinds closer than on the Koran. The consecration of this weapon is amost elaborate ceremony, and takes place only under certain trees.They rise through various grades: the lowest are scouts; the second,sextons; the third are holders of the victims' hands; the highest,stranglers.

Though all agree in never practising cruelty, or robbing previous tomurder, never allowing any but infants to escape (and these aretrained to Thuggee), and never leaving a trace of such goods as maybe identified, there are several variations in their mode ofconducting operations; some tribes spare certain castes, others none:murder of woman is against all rules; but the practice crept intocertain gangs, and this it is which led to their discountenance bythe goddess Davee, and the consequent downfall of the system.Davee, they say, allowed the British to punish them, because acertain gang had murdered the mothers to obtain their daughters to besold to prostitution.

Major Sleeman has constructed a map demonstrating the number of"Bails," or regular stations for committing murder, in the kingdom ofOude alone, which is 170 miles long by 100 broad, and in which are274, which are regarded by the Thug with as much satisfaction andinterest as a game preserve is in England: nor are these "bails" lessnumerous in other parts of India. Of twenty assassins who wereexamined, one frankly confessed to having been engaged in 931murders, and the least guilty of the number to 24. Sometimes 150persons collected into one gang, and their profits have often beenimmense, the murder of six persons on one occasion yielding 82,000rupees; upwards of 8000 pounds.

Of the various facilities for keeping up the system, the mostprominent are, the practice amongst the natives of travelling beforedawn, of travellers mixing freely together, and taking their meals bythe way-side instead of in villages; in the very Bails, in fact, towhich they are inveigled by the Thug in the shape of afellow-traveller; money remittances are also usually made bydisguised travellers, whose treasure is exposed at the custom-houses,and, worst of all, the bankers will never own to the losses theysustain, which, as a visitation of God, would, if avenged, lead, theythink, to future, and perhaps heavier punishment. Had the Thugsdestroyed Englishmen, they would quickly have been put down; but thesystem being invariably practised on a class of people acknowledgingthe finger of the Deity in its execution, its glaring enormities werelong in rousing the attention of the Indian Government.

A few examples of the activity exercised by the suppressors may beinteresting. They act wholly through the information given byapprovers, who are simply king's evidences. Of 600 Thugs engaged inthe murder of 64 people, and the plunder of nearly 20,000 pounds, allexcept seventy were captured in ten years, though separated into sixgangs, and their operations continued from 1826 to 1830:the last party was taken in 1836. And again, between the years 1826and 1835, 1562 Thugs were seized, of whom 382 were hanged, and 909transported; so that now it is but seldom these wretches are everheard of.

To show the extent of their operations I shall quote an anecdote fromSleeman's Reports (to which I am indebted for most of the aboveinformation). He states that he was for three years in charge of adistrict on the Nerbudda, and considered himself acquainted withevery circ*mstance that occurred in the neighbourhood; yet, duringthat time, 100 people were murdered and buried within less than aquarter of a mile of his own residence!

Two hundred and fifty boats full of river Thugs, in crews of fifteen,infested the Ganges between Benares and Calcutta, during five monthsof every year, under pretence of conveying pilgrims. Travellers alongthe banks were tracked, and offered a passage, which if refused inthe first boat was probably accepted in some other. At a given signalthe crews rushed in, doubled up the decoyed victim, broke his back,and threw him into the river, where floating corpses are too numerousto elicit even an exclamation.

At Mirzapore I engaged a boat to carry me down the river toBhagulpore, whence I was to proceed to the Sikkim-Himalaya.The vessel, which, though slow and very shabby, had the advantage ofbeing cooler and more commodious than the handsomer craft.Its appearance was not unlike that of a floating haystack, orthatched cottage: its length was forty feet, and breadth fifteen, andit drew a foot and a half of water: the deck, on which a kind ofhouse, neatly framed of matting, was erected, was but a little abovethe water's edge. My portion of this floating residence was linedwith a kind of reed-work formed of long culms of Saccharum.The crew and captain consisted of six naked Hindoos, one of whomsteered by the huge rudder, sitting on a bamboo-stage astern; theothers pulled four oars in the very bows opposite my door, or trackedthe boat along the riverbank.

In my room (for cabin I cannot call it) stood my palkee, fitted as abed, with mosquito curtains; a chair and table. On one side wereplaced all my papers and plants, under arrangement to go home; on theother, my provisions, rice, sugar, curry-powder, a preserved ham, andcheese, etc. Around hung telescope, botanical box, dark lantern,barometer, and thermometer, etc., etc. Our position was oftenashore, and, Hindoo-like, on the lee-shore, going bump, bump,bump, so that I could hardly write. I considered myself fortunate inhaving to take this slow conveyance down, it enabling me to write andarrange all day long.

I left on the 15th of March, and in the afternoon of the same daypassed Chunar.* [The first station at which Henry Martyn laboured inIndia.] This is a tabular mass of sandstone, projecting into theriver, and the eastern termination of the Kymore range. There is nota rock between this and the Himalaya, and barely a stone all the waydown the Ganges, till the granite and gneiss rocks of the Behar rangeare again met with. The current of the Ganges is here very strong,and its breadth much lessened: the river runs between high banks ofalluvium, containing much kunker. At Benares it expands into a broadstream, with a current which during the rains is said to flow eightmiles an hour, when the waters rise 43 feet. The fall hence is 300feet to its junction with the Hooghly, viz., one foot to every mile.My observations made that from Mirzapore to Benares considerablygreater.

Benares is the Athens of India. The variety of buildings along thebank is incredible. There are temples of every shape in all stages ofcompletion and dilapidation, and at all angles of inclination; forthe banks give way so much that many of these edifices are fearfullyout of the perpendicular.

The famed mosque, built by Aurungzebe on the site of a Hindoo temple,is remarkable for its two octagonal minarets, 232 feet above theGanges. The view from it over the town, especially of the EuropeanResident's quarter, is fine; but the building itself is deficient inbeauty or ornament: it commands the muddy river with its thousands ofboats, its waters peopled with swimmers and bathers, who spring infrom the many temples, water-terraces, and ghats on the city side:opposite is a great sandy plain. The town below looks a mass of poor,square, flat-roofed houses, of which 12,000 are brick, and 16,000 mudand thatch, through the crowd of which, and of small temples, the eyewanders in vain for some attractive feature or evidence of thewealth, the devotion, the science, or the grandeur of a citycelebrated throughout the East for all these attributes. Greenparrots and pigeons people the air.

The general appearance of an oriental town is always more or lessruinous; and here the eye is fatigued with bricks and crumblingedifices, and the ear with prayer-bells. The bright meadows and greentrees which adorn the European Resident's dwelling, some four milesback from the river, alone relieve the monotony of the scene.The streets are so narrow that it is difficult to ride a horsethrough them; and the houses are often six stories high, withgalleries crossing above from house to house. These tall, gauntedifices sometimes give place to clumps of cottages, and a mass ofdusty ruins, the unsavoury retreats of vermin and filth, where theCalotropis arborea generally spreads its white branches andglaucous leaves—a dusty plant. Here, too, enormous spiders' webshang from the crumbling walls, choked also with dust, and resemblingcurtains of coarse muslin, being often some yards across, and notarranged in radii and arcs, but spun like weaver's woofs.Paintings, remarkable only for their hideous proportions and want ofperspective, are daubed in vermilion, ochre, and indigo.The elephant, camel, and porpoise of the Ganges, dog, shepherd,peaco*ck, and horse, are especially frequent, and so is a runningpattern of a hand spread open, with a blood-red spot on the palm.A still less elegant but frequent object is the fuel, which iscomposed of the manure collected on the roads of the city, mouldedinto flat cakes, and stuck by the women on the walls to dry,retaining the sign-manual of the artist in the impressed form of heroutspread hand. The cognizance of the Rajah, two fish chainedtogether, appears over the gates of public buildings.

The hundreds of temples and shrines throughout the city are its mostremarkable feature: sacred bulls, and lingams of all sizes, strewedwith flowers and grains of rice meet the eye at every turn; and thecity's boast is the possession of one million idols, which, of onekind and another, I can well believe. The great Hindoo festival ofthe Holi was now celebrating, and the city more thanordinarily crowded; throwing red powder (lac and flour), withrose-water, is the great diversion at a festival more childish by farthan a carnival.

Through the kindness of Mr. Reade (the Commissioner), I obtainedadmission to the Bishishar-Kumardil, the "holiest of holies." It wasa small, low, stone building, daubed with red inside, and swarmingwith stone images of Brahminee bulls, and various disgusting emblems.A fat old Brahmin, naked to the waist, took me in, but allowed nofollowers; and what with my ignorance of his phraseology, the clangof bells and din of voices, I gained but little information.Some fine bells from Nepal were evidently the lion of the temple.I emerged, adorned with a chaplet of magnolia flowers, and with myhands full of Calotropis and Nyctanthes blossoms.It was a horrid place for noise, smell, and sights. Thence I went toa holy well, rendered sacred because Siva, when stepping from theHimalaya to Ceylon, accidentally let a medicine chest fall into it.The natives frequent it with little basins or baskets of rice, sugar,etc., dropping in a little of each while they mutter prayers.

Illustration — EQUATORIAL-SUNDIAL

The observatory at Benares, and those at Delhi, Matra on the Jumna,and Oujein, were built by Jey-Sing, Rajah of Jayanagar, upwards of200 years ago; his skill in mathematical science was so well known,that the Emperor Mahommed Shah employed him to reform the calendar.Mr. Hunter, in the "Asiatic Researches," gives a translation of thelucubrations of this really enlightened man, as contained in theintroduction to his own almanac.

Illustration — EQUINOCTIAL SUN-DIAL.

Of the more important instruments I took sketches; No. 1, is theNaree-wila, or Equatorial dial; No. 2, the Semrat-yunta, orEquinoctial dial; No. 3, an Equatorial, probably a Kranti-urit, orAzimuth circle.* [Hunter, in As Soc. Researches, 177 (Calcutta); SirR. Barker in Phil. Trans., lxvii. 608 (1777); J. L. Williams, Phil.Trans., lxxxiii. 45 (1793).] Jey-Sing's genius and love of scienceseem, according to Hunter, to have descended to some of his family,who died early in this century, when "Urania fled before thebrazen-fronted Mars, and the best of the observatories, that ofOujein, was turned into an arsenal and cannon foundry."

Illustration — BRASS AZIMUTH CIRCLE

The observatory is still the most interesting object in Benares,though it is now dirty and ruinous, and the great stone instrumentsare rapidly crumbling away. The building is square, with a centralcourt and flat roof, round which the astrolabes, etc. are arranged.A half naked Astronomer-Royal, with a large sore on his stomach, tookme round—he was a pitiful object, and told me he was very hungry.The observatory is nominally supported by the Rajah of Jeypore, whodoles out a too scanty pittance to his scientific corps.

In the afternoon Mr. Reade drove me to the Sar-nath, a singularBoodhist temple, a cylindrical mass of brickwork, faced with stone,the scrolls on which were very beautiful, and as sharp as if freshlycut: it is surmounted by a tall dome, and is altogether about seventyor a hundred feet high. Of the Boodh figures only one remains, theothers having been used by a recent magistrate of Benares inrepairing a bridge over the Goomtee! From this place the Boodhistmonuments, Hindoo temple, Mussulman mosque, and English church, wereall embraced in one coup d'oeil. On our return, we drove pastmany enormous mounds of earth and brick-work, the vestiges of OldBenares, but whether once continued to the present city or not isunknown. Remains are abundant, eighteen feet below the site of thepresent city.

Benares is the Mecca of the Hindoos, and the number of pilgrims whovisit it is incalculable. Casi (its ancient name, signifyingsplendid), is alleged to be no part of this world, which rests oneternity, whereas Benares is perched on a prong of Siva's trident,and is hence beyond the reach of earthquakes.* [Probably an allusionto the infrequency of these phenomena in this meridian; they beingcommon both in Eastern Bengal, and in Western India beyond theGanges.] Originally built of gold, the sins of the inhabitants werepunished by its transmutation into stone, and latterly into mud andthatch: whoever enters it, and especially visits its principal idol(Siva fossilised) is secure of heaven.

On the 18th I left Benares for Ghazepore, a pretty town situated onthe north bank of the river, celebrated for its manufacture ofrose-water, the tomb of Lord Cornwallis, and a site of the Company'sstud. The Rose gardens surround the town: they are fields, with lowbushes of the plant grown in rows, red with blossoms in the morning,all of which are, however, plucked long before midday. The petals areput into clay stills, with twice their weight of water, and theproduce exposed to the fresh air, for a night, in open vessels.The unskimmed water affords the best, and it is often twice and evenoftener distilled; but the fluid deteriorates by too muchdistillation. The Attar is skimmed from the exposed pans, and sellsat 10 pounds the rupee weight, to make which 20,000 flowers arerequired. It is frequently adulterated with sandal-wood oil.

Lord Cornwallis' mausoleum is a handsome building, modelled byFlaxman after the Sybil's Temple. The allegorical designs of Hindoosand sorrowing soldiers with reversed arms, which decorate two sidesof the enclosed tomb, though perhaps as good as can be, are under anytreatment unclassical and uncouth. The simple laurel and oak-leafchaplets on the alternating faces are far more suitableand suggestive.

March 21.—I left Ghazepore and dropped down the Ganges; thegeneral features of which are soon described. A strong current fouror five miles broad, of muddy water, flows between a precipitous bankof alluvium or sand on one side, and a flat shelving one of sand ormore rarely mud, on the other. Sand-banks are frequent in the river,especially where the great affluents debouche; and there generallyare formed vast expanses of sand, small "Saharas," studded withstalking pillars of sand, raised seventy or eighty feet high by gustsof wind, erect, stately, grave-looking columns, all shaft, withneither basem*nt nor capital, the genii of the "Arabian Nights."The river is always dotted with boats of all shapes, mine beingperhaps of the most common description; the great square, Yankee-likesteamers, towing their accommodation-boats (as the passengers'floating hotels are called), are the rarest. Trees are few on thebanks, except near villages, and there is hardly a palm to be seenabove Patna. Towns are unfrequent, such as there are being merecollections of huts, with the ghat and boats at the bottom of thebank; and at a respectful distance from the bazaar, stand the neatbungalows of the European residents, with their smiling gardens,hedgings and fencings, and loitering servants at the door. A rottingcharpoy (or bedstead) on the banks is a common sight, the "solareliquia" of some poor Hindoo, who departs this life by the sideof the stream, to which his body is afterwards committed.

Shoals of small goggled-eyed fish are seen, that spring clear out ofthe water; and are preyed upon by terns and other birds; a fewinsects skim the surface; turtle and porpoises tumble along, allforming a very busy contrast to the lazy alligator, sunning his greenand scaly back near the shore, with his ichthyosaurian snout raisedhigh above the water. Birds are numerous, especially early and latein the day. Along the silent shore the hungry Pariah dog may be seentearing his meal from some stranded corpse, whilst the adjutant-bird,with his head sunk on his body and one leg tucked up, patientlyawaits his turn. At night the beautiful Brahminee geese alight, oneby one, and seek total solitude; ever since having disturbed a god inhis slumbers, these birds are fated to pass the night in singleblessedness. The gulls and terns, again, roost in flocks, as do thewild geese and pelicans,—the latter, however, not till after makinga hearty and very noisy supper. These birds congregate by the sidesof pools, and beat the water with violence, so as to scare the fish,which thus become an easy prey; a fact which was, I believe, firstindicated by Pallas, during his residence on the banks of the CaspianSea. Shells are scarce, and consist of a few small bivalves; theircomparative absence is probably due to the paucity of limestone inthe mountains whence the many feeders flow. The sand is pure whiteand small-grained, with fragments of hornblende and mica, the lattervarying in abundance as a feeder is near or far away. Pink sand* [Ihave seen the same garnet sand covering the bottom of the Himalayantorrents, where it is the produce of disintegrated gneiss, and whenceit is transported to the Ganges.] of garnets is very common, anddeposited in layers interstratified with the white quartz sand.Worm-marks, ripple-marks, and the footsteps of alligators, birds andbeasts, abound in the wet sand. The vegetation of the banks consistsof annuals which find no permanent resting-place. Along the sandyshores the ever-present plants are mostly English, as Dock, aNasturtium, Ranunculus sceleratus, Fumitory, Juncus bufonius,,Common Vervain, Gnaphalium luteo-album, and very frequentlyVeronica Anagallise. On the alluvium grow the same, mixed withTamarisk, Acacia Arabica, and a few other bushes.

Withered grass abounds; and wheat, dhal (Cajanus) and gram(Cicer arietinum), Carthamus, vetches, and rice are thestaple products of the country. Bushes are few, except theuniversally prevalent Adhatoda and Calotropis. Trees, also,are rare, and of stunted growth; Figs, the Artocarpus and someLeguminosa prevail most. I saw but two kinds of palm, thefan-palm, and Phoenix: the latter is characteristic of thedriest locality. Then, for the animal creation, men, women, andchildren abound, both on the banks, and plying up and down theGanges. The humped cow (of which the ox is used for draught) iscommon. Camels I occasionally observed, and more rarely the elephant;poneys, goats, and dogs muster strong. Porpoises and alligatorsinfest the river, even above Benares. Flies and mosquitos areterrible pests; and so are the odious flying-bugs,* [LargeHemipterlus insects, of the genus Derecteryx.] which insinuatethemselves between one's skin and clothes, diffusing a dreadfulodour, which is increased by any attempt to touch or remove them.In the evening it was impossible to keep insects out of the boat, orto hinder their putting the lights out; and of these the mostintolerable was the abovementioned flying-bug. Saucy crickets, too,swarm, and spring up at one's face, whilst mosquitos maintain aconstant guerilla warfare, trying to the patience no less than to thenerves. Thick webs of the gossamer spider float across the riverduring the heat of the day, as coarse as fine thread, and beinginhaled keep tickling the nose and lips.

On the 18th, the morning commenced with a dust-storm, the horizon wasabout 20 yards off, and ashy white with clouds of sand; the treeswere scarcely visible, and everything in my boat was covered with afine coat of impalpable powder, collected from the boundless alluvialplains through which the Ganges flows. Trees were scarcelydiscernible, and so dry was the wind that drops of water vanishedlike magic. Neither ferns, mosses, nor lichens grow along the banksof the Ganges, they cannot survive the transition from parching likethis to the three months' floods at midsummer, when the country isfor miles under water.

March 23.—Passed the mouth of the Soane, a vast expanse ofsand dotted with droves of camels; and soon after, the wide-spreadspits of sand along the north bank announced the mouth of the Gogra,one of the vastest of the many Himalayan affluents of the Ganges.

On the 25th of March I reached Dinapore, a large military station,sufficiently insalubrious, particularly for European troops, thebarracks being so misplaced that the inmates are suffocated: thebuildings run east and west instead of north and south, and thereforelose all the breeze in the hottest weather. From this place I sentthe boat down to Patna, and proceeded thither by land to the house ofDr. Irvine, an old acquaintance and botanist, from whom I received amost kind welcome. On the road, Bengal forms of vegetation, to whichI had been for three months a stranger, reappeared; likewise grovesof fan and toddy palms, which are both very rare higher up the river;clumps of large bamboo, orange, Acacia Sissoo, Melia, Guatterialongifolia, Spondias mangifera, Odina, Euphorbia pentagona,neriifolia and trigona, were common road-side plants.In the gardens, Papaw, Croton, Jatropha, Buddleia, Cookia,Loquat, Litchi, Longan, all kinds of the orange tribe, and thecocoa-nut, some from their presence, and many from their profusion,indicated a decided change of climate, a receding from the desertnorth-west of India, and its dry winds, and an approach to the damperregions of the many-mouthed Ganges.

My main object at Patna being to see the opium Godowns (stores), Iwaited on Dr. Corbett, the Assistant-Agent, who kindly explainedeverything to me, and to whose obliging attentions I am much indebted.

The E.I. Company grant licences for the cultivation of the poppy, andcontract for all the produce at certain rates, varying with thequality. No opium can be grown without this licence, and an advanceequal to about two-thirds of the value of the produce is made to thegrower. This produce is made over to district collectors, whoapproximately fix the worth of the contents of each jar, and forwardit to Patna, where rewards are given for the best samples, and theworst are condemned without payment; but all is turned to someaccount in the reduction of the drug to a state fit for market.

The poppy flowers in the end of January and beginning of February,and the capsules are sliced in February and March with a littleinstrument like a saw, made of three iron plates with jagged edges,tied together. The cultivation is very carefully conducted, nor arethere any very apparent means of improving this branch of commerceand revenue. During the N.W., or dry winds, the best opium isprocured, the worst during the moist, or E. and N.E., when the drugimbibes moisture, and a watery bad solution of opium collects incavities of its substance, and is called Passewa, according to theabsence of which the opium is generally prized.

At the end of March the opium jars arrive at the stores by water andby land, and continue accumulating for some weeks. Every jar islabelled and stowed in a proper place, separately tested with extremeaccuracy, and valued. When the whole quantity has been received, thecontents of all the jars are thrown into great vats, occupying a verylarge building, whence the mass is distributed, to be made up intoballs for the markets. This operation is carried on in a long pavedroom, where every man is ticketed, and many overseers are stationedto see that the work is properly conducted. Each workman sits on astool, with a double stage and a tray before him. On the top stage isa tin basin, containing opium sufficient for three balls; in thelower another basin, holding water: in the tray stands a brasshemispherical cup, in which the ball is worked. To the man's righthand is another tray, with two compartments, one containing thinpancakes of poppy petals pressed together, the other a cupful ofsticky opium-water, made from refuse opium. The man takes the brasscup, and places a pancake at the bottom, smears it with opium-water,and with many plies of the pancakes makes a coat for the opium. Ofthis he takes about one-third of the mass before him, puts it insidethe petals, and agglutinates many other coats over it: the balls arethen again weighed, and reduced or increased to a certain weight ifnecessary. At the day's end, each man takes his work to a rack withnumbered compartments, and deposits it in that which answers to hisown number, thence the balls (each being put in a clay cup) arecarried to an enormous drying-room, where they are exposed in tiers,and constantly examined and turned, to prevent their being attackedby weevils, which are very prevalent during moist winds, little boyscreeping along the racks all day long for this purpose. When dry, theballs are packed in two layers of six each in chests, with thestalks, dried leaves, and capsules of the plant, and sent down toCalcutta. A little opium is prepared of very fine quality for theGovernment Hospitals, and some for general sale in India; but theproportion is trifling, and such is made up into square cakes. A goodworkman will prepare from thirty to fifty balls a day, the totalproduce being 10,000 to 12,000 a day; during one working season1,353,000 balls are manufactured for the Chinese market alone.

The poppy-petal pancakes, each about a foot radius, are madein the fields by women, by the simple operation of pressing the freshpetals together. They are brought in large baskets, and purchased atthe commencement of the season. The liquor with which the pancakesare agglutinated together by the ball-maker, and worked into theball, is merely inspissated opium-water, the opium for which isderived from the condemned opium, (Passewa,) the washing of theutensils, and of the workmen, every one of whom is nightly lavedbefore he leaves the establishment, and the water is inspissated.Thus not a particle of opium is lost. To encourage the farmers, therefuse stalks, leaves, and heads are bought up, to pack the ballswith; but this is far from an economical plan, for it is difficult tokeep the refuse from damp and insects.

A powerful smell of opium pervaded these vast buildings, which Dr.Corbett* [I am greatly indebted to Mr. Oldfield, the Opium Agent, andto Dr. Corbett, for a complete set of specimens, implements, anddrawings, illustrating the cultivation and manufacture of Opium.They are exhibited in the Kew Museum of Economic Botany.] assured medid not affect himself or the assistants. The men work ten hours aday, becoming sleepy in the afternoon; but this is only natural inthe hot season: they are rather liable to eruptive diseases, possiblyengendered by the nature of their occupation.

Even the best East Indian opium is inferior to the Turkish, and owingto peculiarities of climate, will probably always be so. It neveryields more than five per cent. of morphia, whence its inferiority,but is as good in other respects, and even richer in narcotine.

The care and attention devoted to every department of collecting,testing, manipulating, and packing, is quite extraordinary; and theresult has been an impulse to the trade, beyond what was anticipated.The natives have been quick at apprehending and supplying the wantsof the market, and now there are more demands for licences to growopium than can be granted. All the opium eaten in India is given outwith a permit to licensed dealers, and the drug is so adulteratedbefore it reaches the retailers in the bazaars, that it does notcontain one-thirtieth part of the intoxicating power that it didwhen pure.

Patna is the stronghold of Mahommedanism, and from its centralposition, its command of the Ganges, and its proximity to Nepal(which latter has been aptly compared to a drawn dagger, pointed atthe heart of India), it is an important place. For this reason thereare always a European and several Native Regiments stationed there.In the neighbourbood there is little to be seen, and the highlycultivated flat country is unfavourable to native vegetation.

The mudar plant (Calotropis) was abundant here, but Ifound that its properties and nomenclature were far from settledpoints. On the banks of the Ganges, the larger, white-flowered,sub-arboreous species prevailed; in the interior, and along my wholeprevious route, the smaller purple-flowered kind only was seen.Mr. Davis, of Rotas, was in the habit of using the medicinecopiously, and vouched for the cure of eighty cases, chiefly ofleprosy, by the white mudar, gathered on the Ganges, whilstthe purple of Rotas and the neighbourhood was quite inert:Dr. Irvine, again, used the purple only, and found the white inert.The European and native doctors, who knew the two plants, all gavethe preference to the white; except Dr. Irvine, whose experience overvarious parts of India is entitled to great weight.

March 29.—Dropped down the river, experiencing a successionof east and north-east winds during the whole remainder of thevoyage. These winds are very prevalent throughout the month of March,and they rendered the passage in my sluggish boat sufficientlytedious. In other respects I had but little bad weather to complainof: only one shower of rain occurred, and but few storms of thunderand lightning. The stream is very strong, and its action on thesand-banks conspicuous. All night I used to hear the falling cliffsprecipitated with a dull heavy splash into the water,—a prettyspectacle in the day-time, when the whirling current is seen to carrya cloud of white dust, like smoke, along its course.

The Curruckpore hills, the northern boundary of the gneiss andgranite range of Paras-nath, are seen first in the distance, and thenthrowing out low loosely timbered spurs towards the river; but norock or hill comes close to the banks till near Monghyr, where twoislets of rock rise out of the bed of the river. They are ofstratified quartz, dipping, at a high angle, to the south-east; and,as far as I could observe, quite barren, each crowned with a littletemple. The swarm of boats from below Patna to this place wasquite incredible.

April 1.—Arrived at Monghyr, by far the prettiest town I hadseen on the river, backed by a long range of wooded hills,—detachedoutliers of which rise in the very town. The banks are steep, andthey appear more so owing to the fortifications, which are extensive.A number of large, white, two-storied houses, some very imposing, andperched on rounded or conical hills, give a European aspect tothe place.

Monghyr is celebrated for its iron manufactures, especially ofmuskets, in which respect it is the Birmingham of Bengal. Generallyspeaking, these weapons are poor, though stamped with the firstEnglish names. A native workman will, however, if time and sufficientreward be given, turn out a first rate fowling-piece. The inhabitantsare reported to be sad drunkards, and the abundance of toddy-palmswas quite remarkable. The latter, (here the _Phoenix sylvestris,)I never saw wild, but it is considered to be so in N.W. India; it isstill a doubtful point whether it is the same as the African species.In the morning of the following day I went to the hot springs ofSeeta-koond (wells of Seeta), a few miles south of the town.

Illustration — MONGHYR ON THE GANGES, WITH THE CURROCKPORE HILLS IN
THE DISTANCE.

The hills are hornstone and quartz, stratified and dipping southerlywith a very high angle; they are very barren, and evidently identicalwith those on the south bank of the Soane; skirting, in both cases,the granite and gneiss range of Paras-nath. The alluvium on the banksof the Ganges is obviously an aqueous deposit subsequent to theelevation of these hills, and is perfectly plane up to their bases.The river has its course through the alluvium, like the Soane.The depth of the former is in many places upwards of 100 feet, andthe kunker pebbles it contains are often disposed in parallelundulating bands. It nowhere contains sand pebbles or fossils;concretions of lime (kunker) alone interrupting its uniformconsistence. It attains its greatest thickness in the valleys of theGanges and the Soane, gradually sloping up to the Himalaya andCurruckpore hills on either flank. It is, however, well developed onthe Kymore and Paras-nath hills, 1200 to 1500 feet above the Gangesvalley, and I have no doubt was deposited in very deep water, whenthe relative positions of these mountains to the Ganges and Soanevalleys were the same that they are now. Like every other part of thesurface of India, it has suffered much from denudation, especially onthe above-named mountains, and around their bases, where variousrocks protrude through it. Along the Ganges again, its surface is anunbroken level between Chunar and the rocks of Monghyr. The origin ofits component mineral matter must be sought in the denudation of theHimalayas within a very recent geological period. The contrastbetween the fertility of the alluvium and the sterility of theprotruded quartzy rocks is very striking, cultivation running up tothese fields of stones, and suddenly stopping.

Unlike the Soorujkoond hot-springs, those of Seetakoond rise in aplain, and were once covered by a handsome temple. All the water iscollected in a tank, some yards square, with steps leading down toit. The water, which is clear and tasteless (temp. 104 degrees), isso pure as to be exported copiously, and the Monghyr manufactory ofsoda-water presents the anomaly of owing its purity to Seeta'sablutions.

On my passage down the river I passed the picturesque rocks ofSultangunj; they are similar to those of Monghyr, but very muchlarger and loftier. One, a round-headed mass, stands on the bank,capped with a triple-domed Mahommedan tomb, palms, and figs.The other, which is far more striking, rises isolated in the bed ofthe river, and is crowned with a Hindoo temple, its pyramidal conesurmounted with a curious pile of weatherco*cks, and two littlebanners. The current of the Ganges is here very strong, and runs indeep black eddies between the rocks.

Though now perhaps eighty or a hundred yards from the shore, theislet must have been recently a peninsula, for it retains a portionof the once connecting bank of alluvium, in the form of a shortflat-topped cliff, about thirty feet above the water. Some curiouslooking sculptures on the rocks are said to represent Naragur (orVishnu), Suree and Sirooj; but to me they were quite unintelligible.The temple is dedicated to Naragur, and inhabited by Fakirs; it isthe most holy on the Ganges.

April 5.—I arrived at Bhagulpore, and took up my quarterswith my friend Dr. Grant, till he should arrange my dawk for Sikkim.

The town has been supposed to be the much-sought Palibothra, and adirty stream hard by (the Chundum), the Eranoboas; but Mr. Ravenshawhas now brought all existing proofs to bear on Patna and the Soane.It is, like most hilly places in India, S. of the Himalaya, the seatof much Jain worship; and the temples on Mount Manden,* [For thefollowing information about Bhagulpore and its neighbourhood, I amindebted chiefly to Col. Francklin's essay in the Asiatic Researches;and the late Major Napleton and Mr. Pontet.] a few miles off, aresaid to have been 540 in number. At the assumed summer-palaces of thekings of Palibothra the ground is covered with agates, brought fromthe neighbouring hills, which were, in a rough state, let into thewalls of the buildings. These agates perfectly resemble the Soanepebbles, and they assist in the identification of these flankinghills with those of the latter river.

Again, near the hills, the features of interest are very numerous.The neighbouring mountains of Curruckpore, which are a portion of theRajmahal and Paras-nath range, are peopled by tribes representing theearliest races of India, prior to the invasion of young Rama, princeof Oude, who, according to the legend, spread Brahminism with hisconquests, and won the hand of King Jannuk's daughter, Seeta, bybending her father's bow. These people are called Coles, amiddle-sized, strong, very dark, and black-haired race, with thicklips: they have no vocation but collecting iron from the soil, whichoccurs abundantly in nodules. They eat flesh, whether that of animalskilled by themselves, or of those which have died a natural death,and mix with Hindoos, but not with Mussulmen. There are other tribes,vestiges of the Tamulian race, differing somewhat in their rites fromthese, and approaching, in their habits, more to Hindoos; but all aretimorous and retiring.

The hill-rangers, or Bhagulpore-rangers, are all natives of theRajmahal hills, and form a local corps maintained by the Company forthe protection of the district. For many years these people wereengaged in predatory excursions, which, owing to the nature of thecountry, were checked with great difficulty. The plan was thereforeconceived, by an active magistrate in the district, of embodying aportion into a military force, for the protection of the country frominvasions of their own tribes; and this scheme has answered perfectly.

To me the most interesting object in Bhagulpore was the HorticulturalGardens, whose origin and flourishing condition are due to theactivity and enterprise of the late Major Napleton, commander of thehill-rangers. The site is good, consisting of fifteen acres, thatwere, four years ago, an indigo field, but form now a smiling garden.About fifty men are employed; and the number of seeds and vegetablesannually distributed is very great. Of trees the most conspicuous arethe tamarind, Tecoma jasminoides, Erythrina, Adansonia,Bombax, teak, banyan, peepul, Sissoo, Casuarina, Terminalia,Melia, Bauhinia. Of introduced species English and Chinese flatpeaches (pruned to the centre to let the sun in), Mangos of varioussorts, Eugenia Jambos, various Anonas, Litchi, Loquat andLongan, oranges, Sapodilla; apple, pear, both succeedingtolerably; various Cabool and Persian varieties of fruit-trees; figs,grapes, guava, apricots, and jujube. The grapes looked extremelywell, but they require great skill and care in the management.They form a long covered walk, with a row of plantains on the W.side, to diminish the effects of the hot winds, but even with thisscreen, the fruit on that side are inferior to that on the oppositetrellis. Easterly winds, again, being moist, blight these and otherplants, by favouring the abundant increase of insects, and causingthe leaves to curl and fall off; and against this evil there is noremedy. With a clear sky the mischief is not great; under a cloudyone the prevalence of such winds is fatal to the crop. The white antsometimes attacks the stems, and is best checked by washing the rootswith limewater, yellow arsenic, or tobacco-water. Numerous Cerealia,and the varieties of cotton, sugar-cane, etc. all thrive extremelywell; so do many of our English vegetables. Cabbages, peas, and beansare much injured by the caterpillars of a Pontia, like ourEnglish "White;" raspberries, currants, and gooseberries will notgrow at all.

The seeds were all deposited in bottles, and hung round the walls ofa large airy apartment; and for cleanliness and excellence of kindthey would bear comparison with the best seedsman's collection inLondon. Of English garden vegetables, and varieties of the IndianCerealia, and leguminous plants, Indian corn, millets, rice, etc.,the collections for distribution were extensive.

The manufacture of economic products is not neglected. Excellentcoffee is grown; and arrow-root, equal to the best West Indian, isprepared, at 18s. 6d. per bottle of twenty-four ounces, about afourth of the price of that article in Calcutta.

In most respects the establishment is a model of what suchinstitutions ought to be in India; not only of real practical value,in affording a good and cheap supply of the best culinary and othervegetables that the climate can produce, but as showing to whatdepartments efforts are best directed. Such gardens diffuse a tastefor the most healthy employments, and offer an elegant resource forthe many unoccupied hours which the Englishman in India finds uponhis hands. They are also schools of gardening; and a simpleinspection of what has been done at Bhagulpore is a valuable lessonto any person about to establish a private garden of his own.

I often heard complaints made of the seeds distributed from thesegardens not vegetating freely in other parts of India, and it is notto be expected that they should retain their vitality unimpairedthrough an Indian rainy season; but on the other hand I almostinvariably found that the planting and tending had been left to theuncontrolled management of native gardeners, who with a certainamount of skill in handicraft are, from habits and prejudices,singularly unfit for the superintendence of a garden.

CHAPTER IV.

Leave Bhagulpore — Kunker — Colgong — Himalaya, distant view of —
Cosi, mouth of — Difficult navigation — Sand storms —
Caragola-Ghat — Purnea — Ortolans — Mahanuddee, transport of
pebbles, etc. — Betel-pepper, cultivation of — Titalya — Siligoree
— View of outer Himalaya — Terai — Mechis — Punkabaree — Foot of
mountains — Ascent to Dorjiling — Cicadas — Leeches — Animals —
Kursiong, spring vegetation of — Pacheem — Arrive at Dorjiling —
Dorjiling, origin and settlement of — Grant of land from Rajah —
Dr. Campbell appointed superintendent — Dewan, late and present —
Aggressive conduct of the latter — Increase of the station — Trade
— Titalya fair — Healtby climate for Europeans and children —
Invalids, diseases prejudicial to.

I took as it were, a new departure, on Saturday, April the 8th, mydawk being laid on that day from Caragola-Ghat, about thirty milesdown the river, for the foot of the Himalaya range and Dorjiling.

Passing the pretty villa-like houses of the English residents, theriver-banks re-assumed their wonted features the hills receded fromthe shore; and steep clay cliffs, twenty to fifty feet high, on oneside, opposed long sandy shelves on the other. Kunker was still mostabundant, especially in the lower bed of the banks, close to the (nowvery low) water. The strata containing it were much undulated, butnot uniformly so; horizontal layers over or under-lying the disturbedones. At Colgong, conical hills appear, and two remarkablesister-rocks start out of the river, the same in structure with thoseof Sultangunj. A boisterous current swirls round them, strong even atthis season, and very dangerous in the rains, when the swollen riveris from twenty-eight to forty feet deeper than now. We landedopposite the rocks, and proceeded to the residence of Mr. G. Barnes,prettily situated on one of the conical elevations characteristic ofthe geology of the district. The village we passed through had beenrecently destroyed by fire; and nothing but the clay outer walls andcurious-looking partition walls remained, often white-washed anddaubed with figures in red of the palm of the hand, elephant,peaco*ck, and tiger,—a sort of rude fresco-painting. We did notarrive till past mid-day, and the boat, with my palkee and servant,not having been able to face the gale, I was detained till the middleof the following day. Mr. Barnes and his brother proved mostagreeable companions,—very luckily for me, for it requires noordinary philosophy to bear being storm-stayed on a voyage, with theprospect of paying a heavy demurrage for detaining the dawk, and theworse one of finding the bearers given to another traveller when youarrive at the rendezvous. The view from Mr. Barnes' house is veryfine: it commands the river and its rocks; the Rajmahal hills to theeast and south; broad acres of indigo and other crops below; longlines of palm-trees, and groves of mango, banana, tamarind, and othertropical trees, scattered close around and in the distance. In therainy season, and immediately after, the snowy Himalaya aredistinctly seen on the horizon, fully 170 miles off. Nearly opposite,the Cosi river enters the Ganges, bearing (considering its shortcourse) an enormous volume of water, comprising the drainage of thewhole Himalaya between the two giant peaks of Kinchinjunga in Sikkim,and Gossain-Than in Nepal. Even at this season, looking from Mr.Barnes' eyrie over the bed of the Ganges, the enormous expanses ofsand, the numerous shifting islets, and the long spits of mud betraythe proximity of some very restless and resistless power. During therains, the scene must indeed be extraordinary, when the Cosi laysmany miles of land under water, and pours so vast a quantity ofdetritus into the bed of the Ganges that long islets are heaped upand swept away in a few hours; and the latter river becomes all butunnavigable. Boats are caught in whirlpools, formed without amoment's warning, and sunk ere they have spun round thrice in theeddies; and no part of the inland navigation of India is so dreadedor dangerous, as the Ganges at its junction with the Cosi.

Rain generally falls in partial showers at this season, and they areessential to the well-being of the spring crops of indigo. The stormyappearance of the sky, though it proved fallacious, was hailed by myhosts as predicting a fall, which was much wanted. The wind howeverseemed but to aggravate the drought, by the great body of sand itlifted and swept up the valleys, obscuring the near horizon, andespecially concealing the whole delta of the Cosi, where the cloudswere so vast and dense, and ascended so high as to resembleanother element.

All night the gale blew on, accompanied with much thunder andlightning, and it was not till noon of the 9th that I descried mypalkee-boat toiling down the stream. Then I again embarked, takingthe lagging boat in tow of my own. Passing the mouths of the Cosi,the gale and currents were so adverse that we had to bring up on thesand, when the quantity which drifted into the boat rendered thedelay as disagreeable as it was tedious. The particles penetratedeverywhere, up my nose and down my back, drying my eyelids, andgritting between my teeth. The craft kept bumping on the banks, andbeing both crazy and leaky, the little comfortless cabin became therefuge of scared rats and co*ckroaches. In the evening I shared a mealwith these creatures, on some provisions my kind friends had put intothe boat, but the food was so sandy that I had to bolt my supper!

At night the storm lulled a little, and I proceeded to Caragola Ghatand took up my dawk, which had been twenty-eight hours expecting me,and was waiting, in despair of my arrival, for another traveller onthe opposite bank, who however could not cross the river.

Having accomplished thirty miles, I halted at 9 a..m. on thefollowing morning at Purnea, quitting it at noon for Kishengunj.The whole country wore a greener garb than I had seen anywhere southof the Ganges: the climate was evidently more humid, and had beengradually becoming so from Mirzapore. The first decided change was afew miles below the Soane mouth, at Dinapore and Patna; and the fewhygrometrical observations I took at Bhagulpore confirmed theincrease of moisture. The proximity to the sea and great Delta of theGanges sufficiently accounts for this; as does the approach to thehills for the still greater dampness and brighter verdure of Purnea.I was glad to feel myself within the influence of the long-looked-forHimalaya; and I narrowly watched every change in the character of thevegetation. A fern, growing by the roadside, was the first and mosttangible evidence of this; together with the rarity or total absenceof Butea, Boswellia, Catechu, Grislea, Carissa, and all thecompanions of my former excursion.

Purnea is a large station, and considered very unhealthy during andafter the rains. From it the road passed through some pretty lanes,with groves of planted Guava and a rattan palm (Calamus), the firstI had seen. Though no hills are nearer than the Himalaya, from theconstant alteration of the river-beds, the road undulates remarkablyfor this part of India, and a jungly vegetation ensues, consisting ofthe above plants, with the yellow-flowered Cactus replacing theEuphorbias, which were previously much more common. Though still 100miles distant from the hills, mosses appeared on the banks, and moreferns were just sprouting above ground.

The Bamboo was a very different species from any I had hitherto metwith, forming groves of straight trees fifteen to twenty feet high,thin of foliage, and not unlike poplars.

Thirty-six miles from Purnea brought me to Kishengunj, when I foundthat no arrangements whatever had been made for my dawk, and I wasfairly stranded. Luckily a thoughtful friend had provided me withletters to the scattered residents along the road, and I proceededwith one to Mr. Perry, the assistant magistrate of the district,—agentleman well known for his urbanity, and the many aids he affordsto travellers on this neglected line of road. Owing to this beingsome festival or holiday, it was impossible to get palkee-bearers;the natives were busy catching fish in all the muddy pools around.Some of Mr. Perry's own family also were about to proceed toDorjiling, so that I had only to take patience, and be thankful forhaving to exercise it in such pleasant quarters. The Mahanuddee, alarge stream from the hills, flows near this place, strewing thesurrounding neighbourhood with sand, and from the frequentalterations in its course, causing endless disputes amongst thelandholders. A kind of lark called an Ortolan was abundant: this isnot, however, the European delicacy of that name, though a migratorybird; the flocks are large, and the birds so fat, that they makeexcellent table game. At this time they were rapidly disappearing; toreturn from the north in September.

I had just got into bed at night, when the bearers arrived; sobidding a hurried adieu to my kind host, I proceeded onwards.

April 12.—I awoke at 4 a.m., and found my palkee on the ground,and the bearers coolly smoking their hookahs under a tree (it wasraining hard): they had carried me the length of their stage, twelvemiles, and there were no others to take me on. I had paid twenty-fourpounds for my dawk, from Caragola to the hills, to which I had beenobliged to add a handsome douceur; so I lost all patience. Afterwaiting and entreating during several hours, I found the head-man ofa neighbouring village, and by a further disbursem*nt induced six outof the twelve bearers to carry the empty palkee, whilst I should walkto the next stage; or till we should meet some others. They agreed,and cutting the thick and spongy sheaths of the banana, used them forshoulder-pads: they also wrapped them round the palkee-poles, to easetheir aching clavicles. Walking along I picked up a few plants, andfourteen miles further on came again to the banks of the Mahanuddee,whose bed was strewn with pebbles and small boulders, brought thusfar from the mountains (about thirty miles distant). Here, again, Ihad to apply to the head-man of a village, and pay for bearers totake me to Titalya, the next stage (fourteen miles). Some curiouslong low sheds puzzled me very much, and on examining them theyproved to be for the growth of Pawn or Betel-pepper, anotherindication of the moisture of the climate. These sheds are twenty tofifty yards long, eight or twelve or so broad, and scarcely fivehigh; they are made of bamboo, wattled all round and over the top.Slender rods are placed a few feet apart, inside, up which the PepperVines climb, and quickly fill the place with their deep green glossyfoliage. The native enters every morning by a little door, andcarefully cleans the plants. Constant heat, damp, and moisture,shelter from solar beams, from scorching heat, and from nocturnalradiation, are thus all procured for the plant, which would certainlynot live twenty-four hours, if exposed to the climate of thistreeless district. Great attention is paid to the cultivation, whichis very profitable. Snakes frequently take up their quarters in thesehot-houses, and cause fatal accidents.

Titalya was once a military station of some importance, and from itsproximity to the hills has been selected by Dr. Campbell (theSuperintendent of Dorjiling) as the site for an annual fair, to whichthe mountain tribes resort, as well as the people of the plains. TheCalcutta road to Dorjiling by Dinajpore meets, near here, that bywhich I had come; and I found no difficulty in procuring bearers toproceed to Siligoree, where I arrived at 6 a.m. on the 13th.Hitherto I bad not seen the mountains, so uniformly had they beenshrouded by dense wreaths of vapour: here, however, when within eightmiles of their base, I caught a first glimpse of the outerrange—sombre masses, of far from picturesque outline, clothedeverywhere with a dusky forest.

Siligoree stands on the verge of the Terai, that low malarious beltwhich skirts the base of the Himalaya, from the Sutlej toBrahma-koond in Upper Assam. Every feature, botanical, geological,and zoological, is new on entering this district. The change issudden and immediate: sea and shore are hardly more conspicuouslydifferent, nor from the edge of the Terai to the limit of perpetualsnow is any botanical region more clearly marked than this, which isthe commencement of Himalayan vegetation. A sudden descent leads tothe Mahanuddee river, flowing in a shallow valley, over a pebblybottom: it is a rapid river, even at this season; its banks arefringed with bushes, and it is as clear and sparkling as a troutstream in Scotland. Beyond it the road winds through a thickbrushwood, choked with long grasses, and with but few trees, chieflyof Acacia, Dalbergia Sissoo, and a scarlet fruited Sterculia.The soil is a red, friable clay and gravel. At this season only a fewspring plants were in flower, amongst which a very sweet-scentedCrinum, Asphodel, and a small Curcuma, were in the greatestprofusion. Leaves of terrestrial Orchids appeared, with ferns andweeds of hot damp regions. I crossed the beds of many small streams:some were dry, and all very tortuous; their banks were richly clothedwith brushwood and climbers of Convolvulus, Vines, Hiraea, Leea,Menispermeae, Cucurbitaceae, and Bignoniaceae. Their pent-upwaters, percolating the gravel beds, and partly carried off byevaporation through the stratum of ever-increasing vegetable mould,must be one main agent in the production of the malarious vapours ofthis pestilential region. Add to this, the detention of the sameamongst the jungly herbage, the amount of vapour in the humidatmosphere above, checking the upward passage of that from the soil,the sheltered nature of the locality at the immediate base of loftymountains; and there appear to me to be here all necessary elements,which, combined, will produce stagnation and deterioration in anatmosphere loaded with vapour. Fatal as this district is, andespecially to Europeans, a race inhabit it with impunity, who, if notnumerous, do not owe their paucity to any climatic causes. These arethe Mechis, often described as a squalid, unhealthy people, typicalof the region they frequent; but who are, in reality, more robustthan the Europeans in India, and whose disagreeably sallow complexionis deceptive as indicating a sickly constitution. They are a mild,inoffensive people, industrious for Orientals, living by annuallyburning the Terai jungle and cultivating the cleared spots; and,though so sequestered and isolated, they rather court than avoidintercourse with those whites whom they know to be kindly disposed.

After proceeding some six miles along the gradually ascending path, Icame to a considerable stream, cutting its way through stratifiedgravel, with cliffs on each side fifteen to twenty feet high, hereand there covered with ferns, the little Oxalis sensitiva, andother herbs. The road here suddenly ascends a steep gravelly hill,and opens out on a short flat, or spur, from which the Himalaya riseabruptly, clothed with forest from the base: the little bungalow ofPunkabaree, my immediate destination, nestled in the woods, crowninga lateral knoll, above which, to east and west, as far as the eyecould reach, were range after range of wooded mountains, 6000 to 8000feet high. I here met with the India-rubber tree (Ficus elastica);it abounds in Assam, but this is its western limit.

From this steppe, the ascent to Punkabaree is sudden and steep, andaccompanied with a change in soil and vegetation. The mica slate andclay slate protrude everywhere, the former full of garnets. A giantforest replaces the stunted and bushy timber of the Terai Proper; ofwhich the Duabanga and Terminalias form the prevailing trees,with Cedrela and the Gordonia Wallichii. Smaller timber andshrubs are innumerable; a succulent character pervades the bushes andherbs, occasioned by the prevalence of Urticeae. Large bamboosrather crest the hills than court the deeper shade, and of the latterthere is abundance, for the torrents cut a straight, deep, and steepcourse down the hill flanks: the galleys they traverse are chokedwith vegetation and bridged by fallen trees, whose trunks are richlyclothed with Dendrobium Pierardi and other epiphytical Orchids,with pendulous Lycopodia and many ferns, Hoya, Scitamineae, andsimilar types of the hottest and dampest climates.

The bungalow at Punkabaree was good—which was well, as myluggage-bearers were not come up, and there were no signs of themalong the Terai road, which I saw winding below me. My scanty stockof paper being full of plants, I was reduced to the strait ofbotanising, and throwing away my specimens. The forest was trulymagnificent along the steep mountain sides. The apparently largeproportion of deciduous trees was far more considerable than I hadexpected; partly, probably, due to the abundance of the Dillenia,Cassia, and Sterculia, whose copious fruit was all the moreconspicuous from the leafless condition of the plant. The white orlilac blossoms of the convolvuluslike Thunbergia, and otherAcanthaceae were the predominant features of the shrubbyvegetation, and very handsome.

All around, the hills rise steeply five or six thousand feet, clothedin a dense deep-green dripping forest. Torrents rush down the slopes,their position indicated by the dipping of the forest into theirbeds, or the occasional cloud of spray rising above some moreboisterous part of their course. From the road, at and a little abovePunkabaree, the view is really superb, and very instructive.Behind (or north) the Himalaya rise in steep confused masses.Below, the hill on which I stood, and the ranges as far as the eyecan reach east and west, throw spurs on to the plains of India.These are very thickly wooded, and enclose broad, dead-flat, hot anddamp valleys, apparently covered with a dense forest. Secondary spursof clay and gravel, like that immediately below Punkabaree, rest onthe bases of the mountains, and seem to form an intermediate neutralground between flat and mountainous India. The Terai district forms avery irregular belt, scantily clothed, and intersected by innumerablerivulets from the hills, which unite and divide again on the flat,till, emerging from the region of many trees, they enter the plains,following devious courses, which glisten like silver threads.The whole horizon is bounded by the sea-like expanse of the plains,which stretch away into the region of sunshine and fine weather, inone boundless flat.

In the distance, the courses of the Teesta and Cosi, the greatdrainers of the snowy Himalayas, and the recipients of innumerablesmaller rills, are with difficulty traced at this, the dry season.The ocean-like appearance of this southern view is even moreconspicuous in the heavens than on the land, the clouds arrangingthemselves after a singularly sea-scape fashion. Endless strata runin parallel ribbons over the extreme horizon; above these, scatteredcumuli, also in horizontal lines, are dotted against a clear greysky, which gradually, as the eye is lifted, passes into a deepcloudless blue vault, continuously clear to the zenith; there thecumuli, in white fleecy masses, again appear; till, in the northerncelestial hemisphere, they thicken and assume the leaden hue ofnimbi, discharging their moisture on the dark forest-clad hillsaround. The breezes are south-easterly, bringing that vapour from theIndian Ocean, which is rarefied and suspended aloft over the heatedplains, but condensed into a drizzle when it strikes the coolerflanks of the hills, and into heavy rain when it meets their stillcolder summits. Upon what a gigantic scale does nature here operate!Vapours, raised from an ocean whose nearest shore is more than 400miles distant, are safely transported without the loss of one drop ofwater, to support the rank luxuriance of this far distant region.This and other offices fulfilled, the waste waters are returned, bythe Cosi and Teesta, to the ocean, and again exhaled, exported,expended, re-collected, and returned.

Illustration — PUNKABAREE BUNGALOW AND BASE OF THE HIMALAYA.

The soil and bushes everywhere swarmed with large and troublesomeants, and enormous earthworms. In the evening, the noise of the greatCicadae in the trees was almost deafening. They burst suddenly intofull chorus, with a voice so harshly croaking, so dissonant, and sounearthly, that in these solitary forests I could not help beingstartled. In general character the note was very similar to that ofother Cicadae. They ceased as suddenly as they commenced. On thefollowing morning my baggage arrived, and, leaving my palkee, Imounted a pony kindly sent for me by Mr. Hodgson, and commenced avery steep ascent of about 3000 feet, winding along the face of asteep, richly-wooded valley. The road zigzags extraordinarily in andout of the innumerable lateral ravines, each with its water course,dense jungle, and legion of leeches; the bite of these blood-suckersgives no pain, but is followed by considerable effusion of blood.They puncture through thick worsted stockings, and even trousers,and, when full, roll in the form of a little soft ball into thebottom of the shoe, where their presence is hardly felt in walking.

Not only are the roadsides rich in plants, but native paths, cuttingoff all the zigzags, run in straight lines up the steepesthill-faces, and thus double the available means for botanising; andit is all but impossible to leave the paths of one kind or other,except for a yard or two up the rocky ravines. Elephants, tigers, andoccasionally the rhinoceros, inhabit the foot of these hills, withwild boars, leopards, etc.; but none are numerous. The elephant'spath is an excellent specimen of engineering—the opposite of thenative track, for it winds judiciously.

At about 1000 feet above Punkabaree, the vegetation is very rich, andappears all the more so from the many turnings of the road, affordingglorious prospects of the foreshortened tropical forests.The prevalent timber is gigantic, and scaled by climbingLeguminosae, as Bauhinias and Robinias, which sometimes sheaththe trunks, or span the forest with huge cables, joining tree totree. Their trunks are also clothed with parasitical Orchids, andstill more beautifully with Pothos (Scindapsus), Peppers, Gnetum,Vines, Convolvulus, and Bignoniae. The beauty of the drapery of thePothos-leaves is pre-eminent, whether for the graceful folds thefoliage assumes, or for the liveliness of its colour. Of the moreconspicuous smaller trees, the wild banana is the most abundant, itscrown of very beautiful foliage contrasting with the smaller-leavedplants amongst which it nestles; next comes a screw-pine (Pandanus)with a straight stem and a tuft of leaves; each eight or ten feetlong, waving on all sides. Araliaceae, with smooth or armed slendertrunks, and Mappa-like Euphorbiaceae, spread their long petioleshorizontally forth, each terminated with an ample leaf some feet indiameter. Bamboo abounds everywhere: its dense tufts of culms, 100feet and upwards high, are as thick as a man's thigh at the base.Twenty or thirty, species of ferns (including a tree-fern) wereluxuriant and handsome. Foliaceous lichens and a few mosses appearedat 2000 feet. Such is the vegetation of the roads through thetropical forests of the Outer-Himalaya.

At about 4000 feet the road crossed a saddle, and ran along thenarrow crest of a hill, the top of that facing the plains of India,and over which is the way to the interior ranges, amongst whichDorjiling is placed, still twenty-five miles off. A little below thisa great change had taken place in the vegetation, marked, first, bythe appearance of a very English-looking bramble, which, however, byway of proving its foreign origin, bore a very good yellow fruit,called here the "yellow raspberry." Scattered oaks, of a noblespecies, with large lamellated cups and magnificent foliage,succeeded; and along the ridge of the mountain to Kursiong (a dawkbungalow at about 4800 feet), the change in the flora was complete.

The spring of this region and elevation most vividly recalled that ofEngland. The oak flowering, the birch bursting into leaf, the violet,Chrysosplenium, Stellaria and Arum, Vaccinium, wild strawberry,maple, geranium, bramble. A colder wind blew here: mosses and lichenscarpeted the banks and roadsides: the birds and insects were verydifferent from those below; and everything proclaimed the markedchange in elevation, and not only in this, but in season, for I hadleft the winter of the tropics and here encountered the spring of thetemperate zone.

The flowers I have mentioned are so notoriously the harbingers of aEuropean spring that their presence carries one home at once; but, asspecies, they differ from their European prototypes, and areaccompanied at this elevation (and for 2000 feet higher up) withtree-fern, Pothos, bananas, palms, figs, pepper, numbers of epiphytalOrchids, and similar genuine tropical genera. The uniform temperatureand humidity of the region here favour the extension of tropicalplants into a temperate region; exactly as the same conditions causesimilar forms to reach higher latitudes in the southern hemisphere(as in New Zealand, Tasmania, South Chili, etc.) than they do inthe northern.

Along this ridge I met with the first tree-fern. This species seldomreaches the height of forty feet; the black trunk is but three orfour in girth, and the feathery crown is ragged in comparison withthe species of many other countries: it is the Alsophila gigantea,and ascends nearly to 7000 feet elevation.

Kursiong bungalow, where I stopped for a few hours, is superblyplaced, on a narrow mountain ridge. The west window looks down thevalley of the Balasun river, the east into that of the Mahanuddee:both of these rise from the outer range, and flow in broad, deep, andsteep valleys (about 4000 feet deep) which give them their respectivenames; and are richly wooded from the Terai to their tops.Till reaching this spur, I had wound upwards along the western slopeof the Mahanuddee valley. The ascent from the spur at Kursiong, tothe top of the mountain (on the northern face of which Dorjiling issituated), is along the eastern slope of the Balasun.

From Kursiong a very steep zigzag leads up the mountain, through amagnificent forest of cbesnut, walnut, oaks, and laurels. It isdifficult to conceive a grander mass of vegetation: the straightshafts of the timber-trees shooting aloft, some naked and clean, withgrey, pale, or brown bark; others literally clothed for yards with acontinuous garment of epiphytes, one mass of blossoms, especially thewhite Orchids Caelogynes, which bloom in a profuse manner,whitening their trunks like snow. More bulky trunks were masses ofinterlacing climbers, Araliaceae, Leguminosae, Vines, andMenispermeae, Hydrangea, and Peppers, enclosing a hollow, oncefilled by the now strangled supporting tree, which had long agodecayed away. From the sides and summit of these, supple brancheshung forth, either leafy or naked; the latter resembling cables flungfrom one tree to another, swinging in the breeze, their rockingmotion increased by the weight of great bunches of ferns or Orchids,which were perched aloft in the loops. Perpetual moisture nourishesthis dripping forest: and pendulous mosses and lichens are met within profusion.

Two thousand feet higher up, near Mahaldiram (whence the last view ofthe plains is gained), European plants appear,—Berberry, Paris,etc.; but here, night gathered round, and I had still ten miles to goto the nearest bungalow, that of Pacheem. The road still led alongthe eastern slope of the Balasun valley, which was exceedingly steep,and so cut up by ravines, that it winds in and out of gulleys almostnarrow enough to be jumped across.

It was very late before I arrived at Pacheem bungalow, the mostsinister-looking rest-house I ever saw, stuck on a little clearedspur of the mountain, surrounded by dark forests, overhanging aprofound valley, and enveloped in mists and rain, and hideous inarchitecture, being a miserable attempt to unite the Swiss cottagewith the suburban gothic; it combined a maximum of discomfort with aminimum of good looks or good cheer. I was some time in finding thedirty housekeeper, in an outhouse hard by, and then in waking him.As he led me up the crazy verandah, and into a broad ghostly room,without glass in the windows, or fire, or any one comfort, my mindrecurred to the stories told of the horrors of the Hartz forest, andof the benighted traveller's situation therein. Cold sluggish beetleshung to the damp walls,—and these I immediately secured. After dueexertions and perseverance with the damp wood, a fire smoked lustily,and, by cajoling the gnome of a housekeeper, I procured the usualroast fowl and potatos, with the accustomed sauce of a strong smokyand singed flavour.* [Since writing the above a comfortable house hasbeen erected at Senadah, the name now given to what was calledPacheem Bungalow.]

Pacheem stands at an elevation of nearly 7300 feet, and as I walkedout on the following morning I met with English looking plants inabundance, but was too early in the season to get aught but thefoliage of most. Chryosplenium, violet, Lobelia, a smallgeranium, strawberry, five or six kinds of bramble, Arum, Paris,Convallaria, Stellaria, Rubia, Vaccinium, and various Gnaphalia.Of small bushes, cornels, honeysuckles, and the ivy tribepredominated, with Symplocos and Skimmia, Eurya, bushy brambles,having simple or compound green or beautifully silky foliage;Hypericum, Berberry, Hydrangea, Wormwood, Adamia cyanea,Viburnum, Elder, dwarf bamboo, etc.

The climbing plants were still Panax or Aralia, Kadsura, Saurauja,Hydrangea, Vines, Smilax, Ampelopsis, Polygona, and, mostbeautiful of all, Stauntonia, with pendulous racemes of lilacblossoms. Epiphytes were rarer, still I found white and purpleCaeloynes, and other Orchids, and a most noble white Rhododendron,whose truly enormous and delicious lemon-scented blossoms strewed theground. The trees were one half oaks, one quarter Magnolias, andnearly another quarter laurels, amongst which grew Himalayan kinds ofbirch, alder, maple, holly, bird-cherry, common cherry, and apple.The absence of _Leguminosae was most remarkable, and the mostprominent botanical feature in the vegetation of this region: it istoo high for the tropical tribes of the warmer elevations, too lowfor the Alpines, and probably too moist for those of temperateregions; cool, equable, humid climates being generally unfavourableto that order. Clematis was rare, and other Ranunculaceae stillmore so. Cruciferae were absent, and, what was still moreremarkable, I found very few native species of grasses. Both Poaannua and white Dutch clover flourished where accidentallydisseminated, but only in artificially cleared spots. Of ferns Icollected about sixty species, chiefly of temperate genera.The supremacy of this temperate region consists in the infinitenumber of forest trees, in the absence (in the usual proportion, atany rate) of such common orders as Compositae, Leguminosae,Cruciferae, and Ranunculaceae, and of Grasses amongstMonocotyledons, and in the predominance of the rarer and more localfamilies, as those of Rhododendron, Camellia, Magnolia, Ivy, Cornel,Honeysuckle, Hydrangea, Begonia, and Epiphytic orchids.

From Pacheem, the road runs in a northerly direction to Dorjiling,still along the Balasun valley, till the saddle of the great mountainSinchul is crossed. This is narrow, stretching east and west, andfrom it a spur projects northwards for five or six miles, amongst themany mountains still intervening between it and the snows.This saddle (alt. 7400 feet) crossed, one is fairly amongst themountains: the plains behind are cut off by it; and in front, thesnows may be seen when the weather is propitious. The valleys on thisside of the mountain run northwards, and discharge their streams intogreat rivers, which, coming from the snow, wind amongst the hills,and debouche into the Teesta, to the east, where it divides Sikkimfrom Bhotan.

Dorjiling station occupies a narrow ridge, which divides into twospurs, descending steeply to the bed of the Great Rungeet river, upwhose course the eye is carried to the base of the great snowymountains. The ridge itself is very narrow at the top, along whichmost of the houses are perched, while others occupy positions on itsflanks, where narrow locations on the east, and broader ones on thewest, are cleared from wood. The valleys on either side are at least6000 feet deep, forest-clad to the bottom, with very few and smalllevel spots, and no absolute precipice; from their flanks projectinnumerable little spurs, occupied by native clearings.

My route lay along the east flank, overhanging the valley of theRungmo river. Looking east, the amphitheatre of hills from the ridgeI had crossed was very fine; enclosing an area some four miles acrossand 4000 feet deep, clothed throughout with an impenetrable, darkforest: there was not one clear patch except near the very bottom,where were some scattered hamlets of two or three huts each. The rockis everywhere near the surface, and the road has been formed byblasting at very many places. A wooded slope descends suddenly fromthe edge of the road, while, on the other hand, a bank rises abruptlyto the top of the ridge, alternately mossy, rocky, and clayey, andpresenting a good geological section, all the way along, of thenucleus of Dorjiling spur, exposing broken masses of gneiss. As Idescended, I came upon the upper limit of the chesnut, a tree secondin abundance to the oak; gigantic, tall, and straight in the trunk.

I arrived at Dorjiling on the 16th of April; a showery, cold month atthis elevation. I was so fortunate as to find Mr. Charles Barnes(brother of my friend at Colgong), the sole tenant of a long,cottage-like building, divided off into pairs of apartments, whichare hired by visitors. It is usual for Europeans to bring a fullestablishment of servants (with bedding, etc.) to such stations, butI had not done so, having been told that there was a furnished hotelin Dorjiling; and I was, therefore, not a little indebted to Mr.Barnes for his kind invitation to join his mess. As he was an activemountaineer, we enjoyed many excursions together, in the two monthsand a half during which we were companions.

Dr. Campbell procured me several active native (Lepcha) lads ascollectors, at wages varying from eight to twenty shillings a month;these either accompanied me on my excursions, or went by themselvesinto the jungles to collect plants, which I occupied myself indrawing, dissecting, and ticketing: while the preserving of them fellto the Lepchas, who, after a little training, became, with constantsuperintendence, good plant-driers. Even at this season (four weeksbefore the setting in of the rains) the weather was very uncertain,so that the papers had generally to be dried by the fire.

The hill-station or Sanatarium of Dorjiling owes its origin (likeSimla, Mussooree, etc.) to the necessity that exists in India, ofproviding places where the health of Europeans may be recruited by amore temperate climate. Sikkim proved an eligible position for suchan establishment, owing to its proximity to Calcutta, which lies but370 miles to the southward; whereas the north-west stations mentionedabove are upwards of a thousand miles from that city. Dorjiling ridgevaries in height from 6500 to 7500 feet above the level of the sea;8000 feet being the elevation at which the mean temperature mostnearly coincides with that of London, viz., 50 degrees.

Sikkim was, further, the only available spot for a Sanatariumthroughout the whole range of the Himalaya, east of the extremewestern frontier of Nepal; being a protected state, and owing noallegiance, except to the British government; which, after the Rajahhad been driven from the country by the Ghorkas, in 1817, replacedhim on his throne, and guaranteed him the sovereignty. Our mainobject in doing this was to retain Sikkim as a fender between Nepaland Bhotan: and but for this policy, the aggressive Nepalese would,long ere this, have possessed themselves of Sikkim, Bhotan, and thewhole Himalaya, eastwards to the borders of Burmah.* [Of such beingtheir wish the Nepalese have never made any secret, and they are saidto have asked permission from the British to march an army acrossSikkim for the purpose of conquering Bhotan, offering to become morepeaceable neighbours to us than the Bhotanese are. Such they woulddoubtless have proved, but the Nepal frontier is considered broadenough already.]

From 1817 to 1828 no notice was taken of Sikkim, till a frontierdispute occurred between the Lepchas and Nepalese, which was referred(according to the terms of the treaty) to the British Government.During the arrangement of this, Dorjiling was visited by a gentlemanof high scientific attainments, Mr. J. W. Grant, who pointed out itseligibility as a site for a Sanatarium to Lord William Bentinck, thenGovernor-General; dwelling especially upon its climate, proximity toCalcutta, and accessibility; on its central position between Tibet,Bhotan, Nepal, and British India; and on the good example apeaceably-conducted and well-governed station would be to ourturbulent neighbours in that quarter. The suggestion was cordiallyreceived, and Major Herbert (the late eminent Surveyor-General ofIndia) and Mr. Grant were employed to report further on the subject.

The next step taken was that of requesting the Rajah to cede a tractof country which should include Dorjiling, for an equivalent in moneyor land. His first demand was unreasonable; but on furtherconsideration he surrendered Dorjiling unconditionally, and a sum of300 pounds per annum was granted to him as an equivalent for what wasthen a worthless uninhabited mountain. In 1840 Dr. Campbell wasremoved from Nepal as superintendent of the new station, and wasentrusted with the charge of the political relations between theBritish and Sikkim government.

Once established, Dorjiling rapidly increased. Allotments of landwere purchased by Europeans for building dwelling-houses; barracksand a bazaar were formed, with accommodation for invalid Europeansoldiers; a few official residents, civil and military, formed thenucleus of a community, which was increased by retired officers andtheir families, and by temporary visitors in search of health, or theluxury of a cool climate and active exercise.

For the first few years matters went on smoothly with the Rajah,whose minister (or Dewan) was upright and intelligent: but thelatter, on his death, was succeeded by the present Dewan, a Tibetan,and a relative of the Ranee (or Rajah's wife); a man unsurpassed forinsolence and avarice, whose aim was to monopolise the trade of thecountry, and to enrich himself at its expense. Every obstacle wasthrown by him in the way of a good understanding between Sikkim andthe British government. British subjects were rigorously excludedfrom Sikkim; every liberal offer for free trade and intercourse wasrejected, generally with insolence; merchandise was taxed, andnotorious offenders, refugees from the British territories, wereharboured; despatches were detained; and the Vakeels, or Rajah'srepresentatives, were chosen for their insolence and incapacity.The conduct of the Dewan throughout was Indo-Chinese; assuming,insolent, aggressive, never perpetrating open violence, but by pettyinsults effectually preventing all good understanding. He was met byneglect or forbearance on the part of the Calcutta government; and bypatience and passive resistance at Dorjiling. Our inaction andlong-suffering were taken for weakness, and our concessions fortimidity. Such has been our policy in China, Siam, and Burmah, and ineach instance the result has been the same. Had it been insisted thatthe terms of the treaty should be strictly kept, and had the firstact of insolence been noticed, we should have maintained the bestrelations with Sikkim, whose people and rulers (with the exception ofthe Dewan and his faction) have proved themselves friendlythroughout, and most anxious for unrestricted communication.

These political matters have not, however, prevented the rapidincrease of Dorjiling; the progress of which, during the two years Ispent in Sikkim, resembled that of an Australian colony, not only inamount of building, but in the accession of native families from thesurrounding countries. There were not a hundred inhabitants underBritish protection when the ground was transferred; there are nowfour thousand. At the former period there was no trade whatever;there is now a very considerable one, in musk, salt, gold-dust,borax, soda, woollen cloths, and especially in poneys, of which theDewan in one year brought on his own account upwards of 50 intoDorjiling.* [The Tibetan pony, though born and bred 10,000 to 14,000feet above the sea, is one of the most active and useful animals inthe plains of Bengal, powerful and hardy, and when well trainedearly, docile, although by nature vicious and obstinate.] The tradehas been greatly increased by the annual fair which Dr. Campbell hasestablished at the foot of the hills, to which many thousands ofnatives flock from all quarters, and which exercises a mostbeneficial influence throughout the neighbouring territories.At this, prizes (in medals, money, and kind) are given foragricultural implements and produce, stock, etc., by the originatorand a few friends; a measure attended with eminent success.

In estimating in a sanitory point of view the value of anyhealth-station, little reliance can be placed on the generalimpressions of invalids, or even of residents; the opinion of eachvaries with the nature and state of his complaint, if ill, or withhis idiosyncracy and disposition, if well. I have seen prejudicedinvalids rapidly recovering, in spite of themselves, and all thewhile complaining in unmeasured terms of the climate of Dorjiling,and abusing it as killing them. Others are known who languish underthe heat of the plains at one season, and the damp at another; andwho, though sickening and dying under its influence, yet consistentlypraise a tropical climate to the last. The opinions of those whor*sort to Dorjiling in health, differ equally; those of active mindsinvariably thoroughly enjoy it, while the mere lounger or sportsmanmopes. The statistical tables afford conclusive proofs of the valueof the climate to Europeans suffering from acute diseases, and theyare corroborated by the returns of the medical officer in charge ofthe station. With respect to its suitability to the Europeanconstitution I feel satisfied, and that much saving of life, health,and money would be effected were European troops drafted thither ontheir arrival in Bengal, instead of being stationed in Calcutta,exposed to disease, and temptation to those vices which prove fatalto so many hundreds. This, I have been given to understand, was theview originally taken by the Court of Directors, but it has neverbeen carried out.

I believe that children's faces afford as good an index as any to thehealthfulness of a climate, and in no part of the world is there amore active, rosy, and bright young community, than at Dorjiling.It is incredible what a few weeks of that mountain air does for theIndia-born children of European parents: they are taken there sickly,pallid or yellow, soft and flabby, to become transformed into modelsof rude health and activity.

There are, however, disorders to which the climate (in common withall damp ones) is not at all suited; such are especially dysentery,bowel complaints, and liver complaints of long standing; which arenot benefited by a residence on these hills, though how much worsethey might have become in the plains is not shown. I cannot hear thatthe climate aggravates, but it certainly does not remove them.Whoever is suffering from the debilitating effects of any of themultifarious acute maladies of the plains, finds instant relief, andacquires a stock of health that enables him to resist fresh attacks,under circ*mstances similar to those which before engendered them.

Natives of the low country, and especially Bengalees, are far fromenjoying the climate as Europeans do, being liable to sharp attacksof fever and ague, from which the poorly clad natives are not exempt.It is, however, difficult to estimate the effects of exposure uponthe Bengalees, who sleep on the bare and often damp ground, andadhere, with characteristic prejudice, to the attire of a torridclimate, and to a vegetable diet, under skies to which these areleast of all adapted.

It must not be supposed that Europeans who have resided in the plainscan, on their first arrival, expose themselves with impunity to thecold of these elevations; this was shown in the winter of 1848 and1849, when troops brought up to Dorjiling were cantoned innewly-built dwellings, on a high exposed ridge 8000 feet above thesea, and lay, insufficiently protected, on a floor of loosely laidplanks, exposed to the cold wind, when the ground without was coveredwith snow. Rheumatisms, sharp febrile attacks, and dysenteriesensued, which were attributed in the public prints to the unhealthynature of the climate of Dorjiling.

The following summary of hospital admissions affords the best test ofthe healthiness of the climate, embracing, as the period does, thethree most fatal months to European troops in India. Out of adetachment (105 strong) of H.M. 80th Regiment stationed at Dorjiling,in the seven months from January to July inclusive, there weresixty-four admissions to the hospital, or, on the average, 4-1/3 percent. per month; and only two deaths, both of dysentery. Many ofthese men had suffered frequently in the plains from acute dysenteryand hepatic affections, and many others had aggravated thesecomplaints by excessive drinking, and two were cases of deliriumtremens. During the same period, the number of entries at Calcutta orDinapore would probably have more than trebled this.

CHAPTER V.

View from Mr. Hodgson's of range of snowy mountains — Their extentand elevation — Delusive appearance of elevation — Sinchul, viewfrom and vegetation of — Chumulari — Magnolias, white and purple —Rhododendron Dalhousiae, arboreum and argenteum — Natives ofDorjiling — Lepchas, origin, tradition of flood, morals, dress,arms, ornaments, diet — cups, origin and value — Marriages —Diseases — Burial — Worship and religion — Bijooas — Kampa Rong,or Arratt — Limboos, origin, habits, language, etc. — Moormis —Magras — Mechis — Comparison of customs with those of the nativesof Assam, Khasia, etc.

The summer, or rainy season of 1848, was passed at or near Dorjiling,during which period I chiefly occupied myself in forming collections,and in taking meteorological observations. I resided at Mr Hodgson'sfor the greater part of the time, in consequence of his having givenme a hospitable invitation to consider his house my home. The viewfrom his windows is one quite unparalleled for the scenery itembraces, commanding confessedly the grandest known landscape ofsnowy mountains in the Himalaya, and hence in the world.* [For anaccount of the geography of these regions, and the relation of theSikkim Himalaya to Tibet, etc., see Appendix.] Kinchinjunga(forty-five miles distant) is the prominent object, rising 21,000feet above the level of the observer out of a sea of interveningwooded hills; whilst, on a line with its snows, the eye descendsbelow the horizon, to a narrow gulf 7000 feet deep in the mountains,where the Great Rungeet, white with foam, threads a tropical forestwith a silver line.

To the north-west towards Nepal, the snowy peaks of Kubra and Junnoo(respectively 24,005 feet and 25,312 feet) rise over the shoulder ofSingalelah; whilst eastward the snowy mountains appear to form anunbroken range, trending north-east to the great mass of Donkia(23,176 feet) and thence south-east by the fingered peaks of Tunkolaand the silver cone of Chola, (17,320 feet) gradually sinking intothe Bhotan mountains at Gipmoochi (14,509 feet).

The most eloquent descriptions I have read fail to convey to mymind's eye the forms and colours of snowy mountains, or to myimagination the sensations and impressions that rivet my attention tothese sublime phenomena when they are present in reality; and I shallnot therefore obtrude any attempt of the kind upon my reader.The latter has probably seen the Swiss Alps, which, though barelypossessing half the sublimity, extent, or height of the Himalaya, areyet far more beautiful. In either case he is struck with theprecision and sharpness of their outlines, and still more with thewonderful play of colours on their snowy flanks, from the glowinghues reflected in orange, gold and ruby, from clouds illumined by thesinking or rising sun, to the ghastly pallor that succeeds withtwilight, when the red seems to give place to its complementarycolour green. Such dissolving-views elude all attempts atdescription, they are far too aerial to be chained to the memory, andfade from it so fast as to be gazed upon day after day, withundiminished admiration and pleasure, long after the mountainsthemselves have lost their sublimity and apparent height.

The actual extent of the snowy range seen from Mr. Hodgson's windowsis comprised within an arc of 80 degrees (from north 30 degrees westto north 50 degrees east), or nearly a quarter of the horizon, alongwhich the perpetual snow forms an unbroken girdle or crest of frostedsilver; and in winter, when the mountains are covered down to 8000feet, this white ridge stretches uninterruptedly for more than 160degrees. No known view is to be compared with this in extent, whenthe proximity and height of the mountains are considered; for withinthe 80 degrees above mentioned more than twelve peaks rise above20,000 feet, and there are none below 15,000 feet, while Kinchin is28,178, and seven others above 22,000. The nearest perpetual snow ison Nursing, a beautifully sharp conical peak 19,139 feet high, andthirty-two miles distant; the most remote mountain seen is Donkia,23,176 feet high, and seventy-three miles distant; whilst Kinchin,which forms the principal mass both for height and bulk, is exactlyforty-five miles distant.

On first viewing this glorious panorama, the impression produced onthe imagination by their prodigious elevation is, that the peakstower in the air and pierce the clouds, and such are the termsgenerally used in descriptions of similar alpine scenery; but theobserver, if he look again, will find that even the most stupendousoccupy a very low position on the horizon, the top of Kinchin itselfmeasuring only 4 degrees 31 minutes above the level of the observer!Donkia again, which is 23,176 feet above the sea, or about 15,700above Mr. Hodgson's, rises only 1 degrees 55 minutes above thehorizon; an angle which is quite inappreciable to the eye, whenunaided by instruments.* [These are the apparent angles which I tookfrom Mr. Hodgson's house (alt. 7300 feet) with an excellenttheodolite, no deduction being made for refraction.]

This view may be extended a little by ascending Sinchul, which risesa thousand feet above the elevation of Mr. Hodgson's house, and is afew miles south-east of Dorjiling: from its summit Chumulari (23,929feet) is seen to the north-east, at eighty-four miles distance,rearing its head as a great rounded mass over the snowy Chola range,out of which it appears to rise, although in reality lying fortymiles beyond;—so deceptive is the perspective of snowy mountains.To the north-west again, at upwards of 100 miles distance, abeautiful group of snowy mountains rises above the black Singalelahrange, the chief being, perhaps, as high as Kinchinjunga, from whichit is fully eighty miles distant to the westward; and between them nomountain of considerable altitude intervenes; the Nepalese Himalayain that direction sinking remarkably towards the Arun river, whichthere enters Nepal from Tibet.

The top of Sinchul is a favourite excursion from Dorjiling, beingvery easy of access, and the path abounding in rare and beautifulplants, and passing through magnificent forests of oak, magnolia, andrhododendron; while the summit, besides embracing this splendid viewof the snowy range over the Dorjiling spur in the foreground,commands also the plains of India, with the courses of the Teesta,Mahanuddee, Balasun and Mechi rivers. In the months of April and May,when the magnolias and rhododendrons are in blossom, the gorgeousvegetation is, in some respects, not to be surpassed by anything inthe tropics; but the effect is much marred by the prevailing gloom ofthe weather. The white-flowered magnolia (M. excelsa, Wall,) formsa predominant tree at 7000 to 8000 feet; and in 1848 it blossomed soprofusely, that the forests on the broad flanks of Sinchul, and othermountains of that elevation, appeared as if sprinkled with snow.The purple-flowered kind again (M. Campbellii) hardly occurs below8000 feet, and forms an immense, but very ugly, black-barked,sparingly branched tree, leafless in winter and also during theflowering season, when it puts forth from the ends of its branchesgreat rose-purple cup-shaped flowers, whose fleshy petals strew theground. On its branches, and on those of oaks and laurels,Rhododendron Dalhousiae grows epiphytically, a slender shrub,bearing from three to six white lemon-scented bells, four and a halfinches long and as many broad, at the end of each branch. In the samewoods the scarlet rhododendron (R. arboreum) is very scarce, and isoutvied by the great R. argenteum, which grows as a tree forty feethigh, with magnificent leaves twelve to fifteen inches long, deepgreen, wrinkled above and silvery below, while the flowers are aslarge as those of R. Dalhousiae, and grow more in a cluster. I knownothing of the kind that exceeds in beauty the flowering branch ofR. argenteum, with its wide spreading foliage and glorious massof flowers.

Oaks, laurels, maples, birch, chesnut, hydrangea, a species of fig(which is found on the very summit), and three Chinese and Japanesegenera, are the principal features of the forest; the common bushesbeing Aucuba, Skimmia, and the curious Helwingia, which bearslittle clusters of flowers on the centre of the leaf, likebutcher's-broom. In spring immense broad-leaved arums spring up, withgreen or purple-striped hoods, that end in tail-like threads,eighteen inches long, which lie along the ground; and there arevarious kinds of Convallaria, Paris, Begonia, and other beautifulflowering herbs. Nearly thirty ferns may be gathered on thisexcursion, including many of great beauty and rarity, but thetree-fern does not ascend so high. Grasses are very rare in thesewoods, excepting the dwarf bamboo, now cultivated in the open airin England.

Before proceeding to narrate my different expeditions into Sikkim andNepal from Dorjiling, I shall give a sketch of the different peoplesand races composing the heterogeneous population of Sikkim and theneighbouring mountains.

The Lepcha is the aboriginal inhabitant of Sikkim, and the prominentcharacter in Dorjiling, where he undertakes all sorts of out-dooremployment. The race to which he belongs is a very singular one;markedly Mongolian in features, and a good deal too, by imitation, inhabit; still he differs from his Tibetan prototype, though not sodecidedly as from the Nepalese and Bhotanese, between whom he ishemmed into a narrow tract of mountain country, barely 60 miles inbreadth. The Lepchas possess a tradition of the flood, during which acouple escaped to the top of a mountain (Tendong) near Dorjiling.The earliest traditions which they have of their history date nofurther back than some three hundred years, when they describethemselves as having been long-haired, half-clad savages. At aboutthat period they were visited by Tibetans, who introduced Boodhworship, the platting of their hair into pig-tails, and very many oftheir own customs. Their physiognomy is however so Tibetan in itscharacter, that it cannot be supposed that this was their earliestintercourse with the trans-nivean races: whether they may havewandered from beyond the snows before the spread of Boodhism and itscivilisation, or whether they are a cross between the Tamulian ofIndia and the Tibetan, has not been decided. Their language, thoughradically identical with Tibetan, differs from it in many importantparticulars. They, or at least some of their tribes, call themselvesRong, and Arratt, and their country Dijong: they once possessed agreat part of East Nepal, as far west as the Tambur river, and at astill earlier period they penetrated as far west as the Arun river.

An attentive examination of the Lepcha in one respect entirelycontradicts our preconceived notions of a mountaineer, as he istimid, peaceful, and no brawler; qualities which are all the moreremarkable from contrasting so strongly with those of his neighboursto the east and west: of whom the Ghorkas are brave and warlike to aproverb, and the Bhotanese quarrelsome, cowardly, and cruel. A groupof Lepchas is exceedingly picturesque. They are of shortstature—four feet eight inches to five feet—rather broad in thechest, and with muscular arms, but small hands and slender wrists.*[I have seldom been able to insert my own wrist (which is smallerthan the average) into the wooden guard which the Lepcha wears on hisleft, as a protection against the bow-string: it is a curved ring ofwood with an opening at one side, through which, by a littlestretching, the wrist is inserted.] The face is broad, flat, and ofeminently Tartar character, flat-nosed and oblique-eyed, with nobeard, and little moustache; the complexion is sallow, or often aclear olive; the hair is collected into an immense tail, plaited flator round. The lower limbs are powerfully developed, befitting genuinemountaineers: the feet are small. Though never really handsome, andvery womanish in the cast of countenance, they have invariably amild, frank, and even engaging expression, which I have in vainsought to analyse, and which is perhaps due more to the absence ofanything unpleasing, than to the presence of direct grace or beauty.In like manner, the girls are often very engaging to look upon,though without one good feature they are all smiles and good-nature;and the children are frank, lively, laughing urchins. The old womenare thorough hags. Indolence, when left to themselves, is theirbesetting sin; they detest any fixed employment, and their foulnessof person and garments renders them disagreeable inmates: in thisrainy climate they are supportable out of doors. Though fond ofbathing when they come to a stream in hot weather, and expert, evenadmirable swimmers, these people never take to the water for thepurpose of ablution. In disposition they are amiable and obliging,frank, humorous, and polite, without the servility of the Hindoos; andtheir address is free and unrestrained. Their intercourse with oneanother and with Europeans is scrupulously honest; a present isdivided equally amongst many, without a syllable of discontent orgrudging look or word: each, on receiving his share, coming up andgiving the donor a brusque bow and thanks. They have learnt toovercharge already, and use extortion in dealing, as is the customwith the people of the plains; but it is clumsily done, and neveraccompanied with the grasping air and insufferable whine of thelatter. They are constantly armed with a long, heavy, straight knife,*[It is called "Ban," and serves equally for plough, toothpick,table-knife, hatchet, hammer, and sword.] but never draw it on oneanother: family and political feuds are alike unheard of amongst them.

Illustration — LEPCHA GIRL AND BHOODIST LAMA.

The Lepcha is in morals far superior to his Tibet and Bhotanneighbours, polyandry being unknown, and polygamy rare. This is nodoubt greatly due to the conventual system not being carried to suchan excess as in Bhotan, where the ties of relationship evenare disregarded.

Like the New Zealander, Tasmanian, Fuegian, and natives of otherclimates, which, though cold, are moist and equable, the Lepcha'sdress is very scanty, and when we are wearing woollen under-garmentsand hose, he is content with one cotton vesture, which is looselythrown round the body, leaving one or both arms free; it reaches tothe knee, and is gathered round the waist: its fabric is close, theground colour white, ornamented with longitudinal blue stripes, twoor three fingers broad, prettily worked with red and white. When newand clean, this garb is remarkably handsome and gay, but not showy.In cold weather an upper garment with loose sleeves is added. A longknife, with a common wooden handle, hangs by the side, stuck in asheath; he has often also a quiver of poisoned arrows and a bamboo*[The bamboo, of which the quiver is made, is thin and light: it isbrought from Assam, and called Tulda, or Dulwa, by the Bengalees.]bow across his back. On his right wrist is a curious wooden guard forthe bowstring; and a little pouch, containing aconite poison and afew common implements, is suspended to his girdle. A hat he seldomwears, and when he does, it is often extravagantly broad andflat-brimmed, with a small hemispherical crown. It is made of leavesof Scitamineae, between two thin plates of bamboo-work, clumsy andheavy; this is generally used in the rainy weather, while in the drya conical one is worn, also of platted slips of bamboo, with broadflakes of talc between the layers, and a peaco*ck's feather at theside. The umbrella consists of a large hood, much like the ancientboat called a coracle, which being placed over the head reaches tothe thighs behind. It is made of platted bamboo, enclosing broadleaves of Phrynium. A group of Lepchas with these on, running alongin the pelting rain, are very droll figures; they look like snailswith their shells on their backs. All the Lepchas are fond ofornaments, wearing silver hoops in their ears, necklaces made ofcornelian, amber, and turquoise, brought from Tibet, and pearls andcorals from the south, with curious silver and golden charm-boxes oramulets attached to their necks or arms. These are of Tibetanworkmanship, and often of great value: they contain little idols,charms and written prayers, or the bones, hair, or nail-parings of aLama: some are of great beauty, and highly ornamented. In thesedecorations, and in their hair, they take some pride, the ladiesfrequently dressing the latter for the gentlemen: thus one may oftensee, the last thing at night, a damsel of discreet port, demurely gobehind a young man, unplait his pig-tail, teaze the hair, thin it ofsome of its lively inmates, braid it up for him, and retire.The women always wear two braided pig-tails, and it is by this theyare most readily distinguished from their effeminate-lookingpartners, who wear only one.* [Ermann (Travels in Siberia, ii. p.204) mentions the Buraet women as wearing two tails, and fillets withjewels, and the men as having one queue only.] When in full dress,the woman's costume is extremely ornamental and picturesque; besidesthe shirt and petticoat she wears a small sleeveless woollen cloak,of gay pattern, usually covered with crosses, and fastened in frontby a girdle of silver chains. Her neck is loaded with silver chains,amber necklaces, etc., and her head adorned with a coronet of scarletcloth, studded with seed-pearls, jewels, glass beads, etc. The commondress is a long robe of indi, a cloth of coarse silk, spun from thecocoon of a large caterpillar that is found wild at the foot of thehills, and is also cultivated: it feeds on many different leaves, Sal(Shorea), castor-oil, etc.

In diet, they are gross feeders;* [Dr. Campbell's definition of theLepcha's Flora cibaria, is, that he eats, or must have eaten,everything soft enough to chew; for, as he knows whatever ispoisonous, he must have tried all; his knowledge being whollyempirical.] rice, however, forming their chief sustenance; it isgrown without irrigation, and produces a large, flat, coarse grain,which becomes gelatinous, and often pink, when cooked. Pork is astaple dish: and they also eat elephant, and all kinds of animalfood. When travelling, they live on whatever they can find, whetheranimal or vegetable. Fern-tops, roots of Scitamineae, and theirflower-buds, various leaves (it is difficult to say what not), andfungi, are chopped up, fried with a little oil, and eaten.Their cooking is coarse and dirty. Salt is costly, but prized; pawn(Betel pepper) is never eaten. Tobacco they are too poor to buy, andtoo indolent to grow and cure. Spices, oil, etc. are relished.

They drink out of little wooden cups, turned from knots of maple, orother woods; these are very curious on several accounts; they arevery pretty, often polished, and mounted with silver. Some aresupposed to be antidotes against poison, and hence fetch an enormousprice; they are of a peculiar wood, rarer and paler-coloured. I havepaid a guinea for one such, hardly different from the common sort,which cost but 4d. or 6d. MM. Huc and Gabet graphically allude tothis circ*mstance, when wishing to purchase cups at Lhassa, wheretheir price is higher, as they are all imported from the Himalaya.The knots from which they are formed, are produced on the roots ofoaks, maples, and other mountain forest trees, by a parasiticalplant, known to botanists, as Balanophora.

Their intoxicating drink, which seems more to excite than to debauchthe mind, is partially fermented. Murwa grain (Eleusine Coracana).Spirits are rather too strong to be relished raw, and when a glass ofwine is given to one of a party, he sips it, and hands it round toall the rest. A long bamboo flute, with four or six burnt holes farbelow the month-hole, is the only musical instrument I have seen inuse among them. When travelling, and the fatigues of the day areover, the Lepchas will sit for hours chatting, telling stories,singing in a monotonous tone, or blowing this flute. I have oftenlistened with real pleasure to the simple music of this rudeinstrument; its low and sweet tones are singularly Aeolian, as arethe airs usually played, which fall by octaves: it seems to harmonizewith the solitude of their primaeval forests, and he must have a dullear who cannot draw from it the indication of a contented mind,whether he may relish its soft musical notes or not. Though alwaysequipped for the chase, I fancy the Lepcha is no great sportsman;there is little to be pursued in this region, and he is not driven bynecessity to follow what there is.

Their marriages are contracted in childhood, and the wife purchasedby money, or by service rendered to the future father-in-law, theparties being often united before the woman leaves her parents' roof,in cases where the payment is not forthcoming, and the bridegroomprefers giving his and his wife's labour to the father for a statedperiod in lieu. On the time of service expiring, or the money beingpaid up, the marriage is publicly celebrated by feasting and riot.The females are generally chaste, and the marriage-tie is strictlykept, its violation being heavily punished by divorce, beating,slavery, etc. In cases of intermarriage with foreigners, the childrenbelong to the father's country. All the labours of the house, thefield, and march, devolve on the women and children, or slaves ifthey have them.

Small-pox is dreaded, and infected persons often cruelly shunned: asuspicion of this or of cholera frequently emptying a village or townin a night. Vaccination has been introduced by Dr. Pearson, and it ismuch practised by Dr. Campbell; it being eagerly sought. Cholera isscarcely known at Dorjiling, and when it has been imported thitherhas never spread. Disease is very rare amongst the Lepchas; andophthalmic, elephantiasis, and leprosy, the scourges of hot climates,are rarely known. Goitre prevails,* [May not the use of the headinstead of the shoulder-strap in carrying loads be a predisposingcause of goitre, by inducing congestion of the laryngeal vessels?The Lepcha is certainly far more free from this disease than any ofthe tribes of E. Nepal I have mixed with, and he is both more idleand less addicted to the head-strap as a porter. I have seen it to bealmost universal in some villages of Bhoteeas, where the head-strapalone is used in carrying in both summer and winter crops; as alsoamongst the salt-traders, or rather those families who carry the saltfrom the passes to the Nepalese villages, and who very frequentlyhave no shoulder-straps, but invariably head-bands. I am far fromattributing all goitre, even in the mountains, to this practice, butI think it is proved, that the disease is most prevalent in themountainous regions of both the old and new world, and that in thesethe practice of supporting enormous loads by the cervical muscles isfrequent. It is also found in the Himalayan sheep and goats whichaccompany the salt-traders, and whose loads are supported inascending, by a band passing under the throat.] though not soconspicuously as amongst. Bhoteeas, Bhotanese, and others. Rheumatismis frequent, and intermittent fevers, with ague; also violent andoften fatal remittents, almost invariably induced by sleeping in thehot valleys, especially at the beginning and end of the rains.The European complaints of liver and bowel disease are all butunknown. Death is regarded with horror. The dead are burnt or buried,sometimes both; much depending on custom and position. Omens aresought in the entrails of fowls, etc., and other vestiges of theirsavage origin are still preserved, though now gradually disappearing.

The Lepchas profess no religion, though acknowledging the existenceof good and bad spirits. To the good they pay no heed; "Why shouldwe?" they say, "the good spirits do us no harm; the evil spirits, whodwell in every rock, grove, and mountain, are constantly at mischief,and to them we must pray, for they hurt us." Every tribe has apriest-doctor; he neither knows nor attempts to practise the healingart, but is a pure exorcist; all bodily ailments being deemed theoperations of devils, who are cast out by prayers and invocations.Still they acknowledge the Lamas to be very holy men, and were thelatter only moderately active, they would soon convert all theLepchas. Their priests are called "Bijooas": they profess mendicancy,and seem intermediate between the begging friars of Tibet, whosedress and attributes they assume, and the exorcists of the aboriginalLepchas: they sing, dance (masked and draped like harlequins), beg,bless, curse, and are merry mountebanks; those that affect more ofthe Lama Boodhist carry the "Mani," or revolving praying machine, andwear rosaries and amulets; others again are all tatters and rags.They are often employed to carry messages, and to transact littleknaveries. The natives stand in some awe of them, and being besidesof a generous disposition, keep the wallet of the Bijooa always full.

Such are some of the prominent features of this people, who inhabitthe sub-Himalayas, between the Nepalese and Bhotan frontiers, atelevations of 3000 to 6000 feet. In their relations with us, they areconspicuous for their honesty, their power as carriers andmountaineers, and their skill as woodsmen; for they build awaterproof house with a thatch of banana leaves in the lower, or ofbamboo in the elevated regions, and equip it with a table andbedsteads for three persons, in an hour, using no implement but theirheavy knife. Kindness and good humour soon attach them to your personand service. A gloomy-tempered or morose master they avoid, an unkindone they flee. If they serve a good hills-man like themselves, theywill follow him with alacrity, sleep on the cold, bleak mountainexposed to the pitiless rain, without a murmur, lay down the heavyburden to carry their master over a stream, or give him a helpinghand up a rock or precipice—do anything, in short, but encounter afoe, for I believe the Lepcha to be a veritable coward.* [Yet, duringthe Ghorka war, they displayed many instances of courage: when sohard pressed, however, that there was little choice of evils.] It iswell, perhaps, he is so: for if a race, numerically so weak, were toembroil itself by resenting the injuries of the warlike Ghorkas, ordark Bhotanese, the folly would soon lead to destruction.

Before leaving the Lepchas, it may be worth mentioning that thenorthern parts of the country, towards the Tibet frontier, areinhabited by Sikkim Bhoteeas* [Bhote is the general name for Tibet(not Bhotan), and Kumpa is a large province, or district, in thatcountry. The Bhotanese, natives of Bhotan, or of the Dhurma country,are called Dhurma people, in allusion to their spiritual chief, theDhurma Rajah. They are a darker and more powerful race, rude,turbulent, and Tibetan in language and religion, with the worstfeatures of those people exaggerated. The various races of Nepal aretoo numerous to be alluded to here: they are all described in variouspapers by Mr. Hodgson, in the "Journal of the Asiatic Society ofBengal." The Dhurma people are numerous at Dorjiling; they are oftenrunaways, but invariably prove more industrious settlers than theLepchas. In the Himalaya the name Bhotan is unknown amongst theTibetans; it signifies literally (according to Mr. Hodgson) the endof Bhote, or Tibet, being the eastern extreme of that country.The Lepchas designate Bhotan as Ayeu, or Aieu, as do often theBhotanese themselves. Sikkim, again, is called Lhop, or Lho', by theLepchas and Bhotanese.] (or Kumpas), a mixed race calling themselvesKumpa Rong, or Kumpa Lepchas; but they are emigrants from Tibet,having come with the first rajah of Sikkim. These people are moreturbulent and bolder than the Lepchas, and retain much of theirTibetan character, and even of that of the very province from whichthey came; which is north-east of Lhassa, and inhabited by robbers.All the accounts I have received of it agree with those given byMM. Huc and Gabet.

Next to the Lepchas, the most numerous tribe in Sikkim is that of theLimboos (called "Chung" by the Lepchas); they abound also in EastNepal, which they once ruled, inhabiting elevations from 2000 feet to5000 feet. They are Boodhists, and though not divided into castes,belong to several tribes. All consider themselves as the earliestinhabitants of the Tambur Valley, though they have a tradition ofhaving originally emigrated from Tibet, which their Tartarcountenance confirms. They are more slender and sinewy than theLepchas, and neither plait their hair nor wear ornaments; instead ofthe ban they use the Nepal curved knife, called "cookree," while forthe striped kirtle of the Lepcha are substituted loose cottontrousers and a tight jacket; a sash is worn round the middle, and onthe head a small cotton cap. When they ruled over East Nepal, theirsystem was feudal; and on their uniting against the Nepalese, theywere with difficulty dislodged from their strongholds. They are saidto be equally brave and cruel in battle, putting the old and weak tothe sword, carrying the younger to slavery, and killing on the marchsuch captives as are unable to proceed. Many enlist at Dorjiling,which the Lepchas never do; and the rajah of Nepal employs them inhis army, where, however, they seldom obtain promotion, this beingreserved for soldiers of Hindoo tribes. Latterly Jung Bahadur levieda force of 6000 of them, who were cantoned at Katmandoo, where thecholera breaking out, carried off some hundreds, causing manyfamilies who dreaded conscription to flock to Dorjiling. Their habitsare so similar to those of the Lepchas, that they constantlyintermarry. They mourn, burn, and bury their dead, raising a moundover the corpse, erecting a headstone, and surrounding the grave witha little paling of sticks; they then scatter eggs and pebbles overthe ground. In these offices the Bijooa of the Lepchas is employed,but the Limboo has also priests of his own, called "Phedangbos," whobelong to rather a higher order than the Bijooas. They officiate atmarriages, when a co*ck is put into the bridegroom's hands, and a heninto those of the bride; the Phedangbo then cuts off the birds'heads, when the blood is caught on a plantain leaf, and runs intopools from which omens are drawn. At death, guns are fired, toannounce to the gods the departure of the spirit; of these there aremany, having one supreme head, and to them offerings and sacrificesare made. They do not believe in metempsychosis.

The Limboo language is totally different from the Lepcha; with lessof the z in it, and more labials and palatals, hence more pleasing.Its affinities I do not know; it has no peculiar written character,the Lepcha or Nagri being used. Dr. Campbell, from whom I have,derived most of my information respecting these people, wasinformed,* [See "Dorjiling Guide," p. 89. Calcutta, 1845.] on goodauthority, that they had once a written language, now lost; and thatit was compounded from many others by a sage of antiquity. The sameauthority stated that their Lepcha name "Chung" is a corruption ofthat of their place of residence; possibly the "Tsang" provinceof Tibet.

The Moormis are the only other native tribe remaining in any numbersin Sikkim, except the Tibetans of the loftier mountains (whom I shallmention at a future period), and the Mechis of the pestilentialTerai, the forests of which they never leave. The Moormis are ascattered people, respecting whom I have no information, except fromthe authority quoted above. They are of Tibetan origin, and called"Nishung," from being composed of two branches, respectively from thedistricts of Nimo and Shung, both on the road between Sikkim andLhassa. They are now most frequent in central and eastern Nepal, andare a pastoral and agricultural people, inhabiting elevations of 4000to 6000 feet, and living in stone houses, thatched with grass.They are a large, powerful, and active race, grave, very plain infeatures, with little hair on the face. Both their language andreligion are purely Tibetan.

The Magras, a tribe now confined to Nepal west of the Arun, areaborigines of Sikkim, whence they were driven by the Lepchas westwardinto the country of the Limboos, and by these latter further weststill. They are said to have been savages, and not of Tibetan origin,and are now converted to Hindooism. A somewhat mythical account of awild people still inhabiting the Sikkim mountains, will be alludedto elsewhere.

It is curious to observe that these mountains do not appear to haveafforded refuge to the Tamulian* [The Tamulians are the Coles,Dangas, etc., of the mountains of Central India and the peninsula,who retired to mountain fastnesses, on the invasion of their countryby the Indo-Germanic conquerors, who are now represented by theHindoos.] aborigines of India proper; all the Himalayan tribes ofSikkim being markedly Mongolian in origin. It does not, however,follow that they are all of Tibetan extraction; perhaps, indeed, nonebut the Moormis are so. The Mechi of the Terai is decidedlyIndo-Chinese, and of the same stock as the savage races of Assam, thenorth-east and east frontier of Bengal, Arracan, Burmah, etc. BothLepchas and Limboos had, before the introduction of Lama Boodhismfrom Tibet, many features in common with the natives of Arracan,especially in their creed, sacrifices, faith in omens, worship ofmany spirits, absence of idols, and of the doctrine ofmetempsychosis. Some of their customs, too, are the same; the form oftheir houses and of some of their implements, their striped garments,their constant and, dexterous use of the bamboo for all utensils,their practice of night-attacks in war, of using poisoned arrows onlyin the chase, and that of planting "crow-feet" of sharp bamboo stakesalong the paths an enemy is expected to follow. Such are but a fewout of many points of resemblance, most of which struck me whenreading Lieutenant Phayre's account of Arracan,* ["Journal of theAsiatic Society of Bengal."] and when travelling in the districts ofKhasia and Cachar.

The laws affecting the distribution of plants, and the lower animals,materially influence the migrations of man also; and as the botany,zoology, and climate of the Malayan and Siamese peninsula advance farwestwards into India, along the foot of the Himalaya, so do also thevarieties of the human race. These features are most conspicuouslydisplayed in the natives of Assam, on both sides of the Burrampooter,as far as the great bend of that river, beyond which they graduallydisappear; and none of the Himalayan tribes east of that pointpractise the bloody and brutal rites in war that prevail amongst theCookies, Khasias, Garrows, and other Indo-Chinese tribes of themountain forests of Assam, Eastern Bengal, and the Malay peninsula.

I have not alluded to that evidence of the extraction of the Sikkimraces, which is to be derived from their languages, and from which wemay hope for a clue to their origin; the subject is at present underdiscussion, and involved in much obscurity.

That six or seven different tribes, without any feudal system orcoercive head, with different languages and customs, should dwell inclose proximity and in peace and unity, within the confined territoryof Sikkim, even for a limited period, is an anomaly; the moreespecially when it is considered that except for a tincture of theBoodhist religion among some few of the people, they are all butsavages, as low in the scale of intellect as the New Zealander or theTahitian, and beneath those races in ingenuity and skill ascraftsmen. Wars have been waged amongst them, but they were neithersanguinary nor destructive, and the fact remains no less remarkable,that at the period of our occupying Dorjiling, friendship andunanimity existed amongst all these tribes; from the Tibetan at14,000 feet, to the Mechi of the plains; under a sovereign whosetemporal power was wholly unsupported by even the semblance of arms,and whose spiritual supremacy was acknowledged by very few.

CHAPTER VI.

Excursion from Dorjiling to Great Rungeet — Zones of vegetation —Tree-ferns — Palms, upper limit of — Leebong, tea plantations —Ging — Boodhist remains — Tropical vegetation — Pines — Lepchaclearances — Forest fires — Boodhist monuments — Fig — Canebridge and raft over Rungeet — Sago-palm — India-rubber — Yel Pote— Butterflies and other insects — Snakes — Camp — Temperature andhumidity of atmosphere — Junction of Teesta and Rungeet — Return toDorjiling — Tonglo, excursion to — Bamboo flowering — Oaks —Gordonia — Maize, hermaphrodite flowered — Figs — Nettles —Peepsa — Simonbong, cultivation at — European fruits at Dorjiling— Plains of India.

A very favourite and interesting excursion from Dorjiling is to thecane bridge over the Great Rungeet river, 6000 feet below thestation. To this an excellent road has been cut, by which the wholedescent of six miles, as the crow flies, is easily performed onpony-back; the road distance being only eleven miles. The scenery is,of course, of a totally different description from that of Sinchul,or even of the foot of the hills, being that of a deepmountain-valley. I several times made this trip; on the excursionabout to be described, and in which I was accompanied by Mr. Barnes,I followed the Great Rungeet to the Teesta, into which it flows.

In descending from Dorjiling, the zones of vegetation are well markedbetween 6000 and 7000 feet by—1. The oak, chesnut, and Magnolias,the main features from 7000 to 10,000 feet.—2. Immediately below6,500 feet, the tree-fern appears (Alsophila gigantea, Wall.), awidely-distributed plant, common to the Himalaya, from Nepal eastwardto the Malayan peninsula, Java, and Ceylon.—3. Of palms, a speciesof Calamus, and Plectocomia, the "Rhenoul" of the Lepchas. Thelatter, though not a very large plant, climbs lofty trees, andextends about 40 yards through the forest; 6,500 feet is the upperlimit of palms in the Sikkim Himalaya, the Rhenoul alone attainingthis elevation.*—4. [Four other Calami range between 1000 and 6000feet on the outer hills, some of them being found forty miles distantfrom the plains of India. The other palms of Sikkim are, "Simong"(Caryota urens); it is rare, and ascends to nearly 5000 feet.Phoenix (probably P. acaulis, Buch.), a small, stemless species,which grows on the driest soil in the deep valleys; it is the"Schaap" of the Lepchas, who eat the young seeds, and use thefeathery fronds as screens in hunting. Wallichia oblongifolia, the"Ooh" of the Lepchas, who make no use of it; Dr. Campbell and myself,however, found that it is an admirable fodder for horses, who preferit to any other green food to be had in these mountains. Arecagracilis and Licuala peltata are the only other palms in Sikkim;but Cycas pectinata, with the India-rubber fig, occurs in thedeepest and hottest valleys—the western limit of both theseinteresting plants. Of Pandanus there is a graceful species atelevations of 1000 to 4000 feet ("Borr," Lepcha).] The fourthstriking feature is a wild plantain, which ascends to nearly the sameelevation ("Lukhlo," Lepcha). This is replaced by another, and ratherlarger species, at lower elevations; both ripen austere and smallfruits, which are full of seeds, and quite uneatable; that commonlygrown in Sikkim is an introduced stock (nor have the wild speciesever been cultivated); it is very large, but poor in flavour, anddoes not bear seeds. The zones of these conspicuous plants are veryclearly defined, and especially if the traveller, standing on one ofthe innumerable spurs which project from the Dorjiling ridge, casthis eyes up the gorges of green on either hand.

At 1000 feet below Dorjiling a fine wooded spur projects, calledLeebong. This beautiful spot is fully ten degrees warmer than Mr.Hodgson's house, and enjoys considerably more sunshine; peaches andEnglish fruit-trees flourish extremely well, but do not ripen fruit.The tea-plant succeeds here admirably, and might be cultivated togreat profit, and be of advantage in furthering a trade with Tibet.It has been tried on a large scale by Dr. Campbell at his residence(alt. 7000 feet), but the frosts and snow of that height injure it,as do the hailstorms in spring.

Below Leebong is the village of Ging, surrounded by steeps,cultivated with maize, rice, and millet. It is rendered verypicturesque by a long row of tall poles, each bearing a narrow,vertically elongated banner, covered with Boodhist inscriptions, andsurmounted by coronet-like ornaments, or spear-heads, rudely cut outof wood, or formed of basket-work, and adorned with cotton fringe.Ging is peopled by Bhotan emigrants, and when one dies, if hisrelations can afford to pay for them, two additional poles and flagsare set up by the Lamas in honour of his memory, and that of Sunga,the third member of the Boodhist Trinity.

Below this the Gordonia commences, with Cedrela toona, andvarious tropical genera, such as abound near Punkabaree. The heat andhardness of the rocks cause the streams to dry up on these abrupthills, especially on the eastern slope, and the water is thereforeconveyed along the sides of the path, in conduits ingeniously made ofbamboo, either split in half, or, what is better, whole, except atthe septum, which is removed through a lateral hole. The oak andchesnut of this level (3000 feet), are both different from thosewhich grow above, as are the brambles. The Arums are replaced by_Caladiums. Tree-ferns cease below 4000 feet, and the large bambooabounds.

At about 2000 feet, and ten miles distant from Dorjiling, we arrivedat a low, long spur, dipping down to the bed of the Rungeet, at itsjunction with the Rungmo. This is close to the boundary of theBritish ground, and there is a guard-house, and a sepoy or two at it;here we halted. It took the Lepchas about twenty minutes to constructa table and two bedsteads within our tent; each was made of fourforked sticks, stuck in the ground, supporting as many side-pieces,across which were laid flat split pieces of bamboo, bound tightlytogether by strips of rattan palm-stem. The beds were afterwardssoftened by many layers of bamboo-leaf, and if not very downy, theywere dry, and as firm as if put together with screws and joints.

This spur rises out of a deep valley, quite surrounded by loftymountains; it is narrow, and covered with red clay, which the nativeschew as a cure for goitre. North, it looks down into a gully, at thebottom of which the Rungeet's foamy stream winds through a denseforest. In the opposite direction, the Rungmo comes tearing down fromthe top of Sinchul, 7000 feet above; and though its roar is heard,and its course is visible throughout its length, the stream itself isnowhere seen, so deep does it cut its channel. Except on this, and afew similarly hard rocky hills around, the vegetation is a mass ofwood and jungle. At this spot it is rather scanty and dry, withabundance of the Pinus longifolia and Sal. The dwarf date-palm(Phoenix acaulis) also, was very abundant.

The descent to the river was exceedingly steep, the banks presentingan impenetrable jungle. The pines on the arid crests of the hillsaround formed a remarkable feature: they grow like the Scotch fir,the tall, red trunks springing from the steep and dry slopes. Butlittle resin exudes from the stem, which, like that of most pines, issingularly free from lichens and mosses; its wood is excellent, andthe charcoal of the burnt leaves is used as a pigment. Being confinedto dry soil, this pine is local in Sikkim, and the elevation itattains here is not above 3000 feet. In Bhotan, where there is moredry country, its range is about the same, and in the north-westHimalaya, from 2,500 to 7000 feet.

The Lepcha never inhabits one spot for more than three successiveyears, after which an increased rent is demanded by the Rajah. Hetherefore squats in any place which he can render profitable forthat period, and then moves to another. His first operation, afterselecting a site, is to burn the jungle; then he clears away thetrees, and cultivates between the stumps. At this season, firing thejungle is a frequent practice, and the effect by night is exceedinglyfine; a forest, so dry and full of bamboo, and extending over suchsteep hills, affording grand blazing spectacles. Heavy clouds canopythe mountains above, and, stretching across the valleys, shut out thefirmament; the air is a dead calm, as usual in these deep gorges, andthe fires, invisible by day, are seen raging all around, appearing toan inexperienced eye in all but dangerous proximity. The voices ofbirds and insects being hushed, nothing is audible but the harsh roarof the rivers, and occasionally, rising far above it, that of theforest fires. At night we were literally surrounded by them; somesmouldering, like the shale-heaps at a colliery, others fitfullybursting forth, whilst others again stalked along with a steadilyincreasing and enlarging flame, shooting out great tongues of fire,which spared nothing as they advanced with irresistible might. Theirtriumph is in reaching a great bamboo clump, when the noise of theflames drowns that of the torrents, and as the great stem-joints,burst, from the expansion of the confined air, the report is as thatof a salvo from a park of artillery. At Dorjiling the blaze isvisible, and the deadened reports of the bamboos bursting is heardthroughout the night; but in the valley, and within a mile of thescene of destruction, the effect is the most grand, being heightenedby the glare reflected from the masses of mist which hover above.

On the following morning we pursued a path to the bed of the river;passing a rude Booddhist monument, a pile of slate-rocks, with anattempt at the mystical hemisphere at top. A few flags or banners,and slabs of slate, were inscribed with "Om Mani Padmi om." Placed ona jutting angle of the spur, backed with the pine-clad hills, andflanked by a torrent on either hand, the spot was wild andpicturesque; and I could not but gaze with a feeling of deep intereston these emblems of a religion which perhaps numbers more votariesthan any other on the face of the globe. Booddhism in some form isthe predominating creed, from Siberia and Kamschatka to Ceylon, fromthe Caspian steppes to Japan, throughout China, Burmah, Ava, and apart of the Malayan Archipelago. Its associations enter into everybook of travels over these vast regions, with Booddha, Dhurma, Sunga,Jos, Fo, and praying-wheels. The mind is arrested by the names, theimagination captivated by the symbols; and though I could not worshipin the grove, it was impossible to deny to the inscribed stones sucha tribute as is commanded by the first glimpse of objects which havelong been familiar to our minds, but not previously offered to oursenses. My head Lepcha went further: to a due observance ofdemon-worship he united a deep reverence for the Lamas, and hevenerated their symbols rather as theirs than as those of theirreligion. He walked round the pile of stones three times from left toright repeating his "Om Mani," etc., then stood before it with hishead hung down and his long queue streaming behind, and concluded bya votive offering of three pine-cones. When done, he looked round atme, nodded, smirked, elevated the angles of his little turned-upeyes, and seemed to think we were safe from all perils in the valleysyet to be explored.

Illustration — PINES (PINUS LONGIFOLIA), RUNGEET VALLEY.

In the gorge of the Rungeet the heat was intolerable, though thethermometer did not rise above 95 degrees. The mountains leave but anarrow gorge between them, here and there bordered by a belt ofstrong soil, supporting a towering crop of long cane-like grasses andtall trees. The troubled river, about eighty yards across, ragesalong over a gravelly bed. Crossing the Rungmo, where it falls intothe Rungeet, we came upon a group of natives drinking fermented Murwaliquor, under a rock; I had a good deal of difficulty in getting mypeople past, and more in inducing one of the topers to take the placeof a Ghorka (Nepalese) of our party who was ill with fever. Soonafterwards, at a most wild and beautiful spot, I saw, for the firsttime, one of the most characteristic of Himalayan objects of art, acane bridge. All the spurs, round the bases of which the riverflowed, were steep and rocky, their flanks clothed with the richesttropical forest, their crests tipped with pines. On the river's edge,the Banana, Pandanus, and Bauhinia, were frequent, and Figsprevailed. One of the latter (of an exceedingly beautiful species)projected over the stream, growing out of a mass of rock, its rootsinterlaced and grasping at every available support, while itsbranches, loaded with deep glossy foliage, hung over the water. Thistree formed one pier for the canes; that on the opposite bank, wasconstructed of strong piles, propped with large stones; and betweenthem swung the bridge,* [A sketch of one of these bridges will befound in Vol. ii.] about eighty yards long, ever rocking over thetorrent (forty feet below). The lightness and extreme simplicity ofits structure were very remarkable. Two parallel canes, on the samehorizontal plane, were stretched across the stream; from them othershung in loops, and along the loops were laid one or two bamboo stemsfor flooring; cross pieces below this flooring, hung from the twoupper canes, which they thus served to keep apart. The travellergrasps one of the canes in either hand, and walks along the loosebamboos laid on the swinging loops: the motion is great, and therattling of the loose dry bamboos is neither a musical sound, nor onecalculated to inspire confidence; the whole structure seeming as ifabout to break down. With shoes it is not easy to walk; and even withbare feet it is often difficult, there being frequently but onebamboo, which, if the fastening is loose, tilts up, leaving thepedestrian suspended over the torrent by the slender canes. Whenproperly and strongly made, with good fastenings, and a floor ofbamboos laid transversely, these bridges are easy to cross. Thecanes are procured from a species of Calamus; they are as thick asthe finger, and twenty, or thirty yards long, knotted together; andthe other pieces are fastened to them by strips of the same plant. ALepcha, carrying one hundred and forty pounds on his back, crosseswithout hesitation, slowly but steadily, and with perfect confidence.

Illustration — CANE BRIDGE.

A deep broad pool below the bridge was made available for a ferry:the boat was a triangular raft of bamboo stems, with a stage on thetop, and it was secured on the opposite side of the stream, having acane reaching across to that on which we were. A stout Lepcha leaptinto the boiling flood, and boldly swam across, holding on by thecane, without which he would have been carried away. He unfastenedthe raft, and we drew it over by the cane, and, seated on the stage,up to our knees in water, we were pulled across; the raft bobbing upand down over the rippling stream.

We were beyond British ground, on the opposite bank, where any oneguiding Europeans is threatened with punishment: we had expected aguide to follow us, but his non-appearance caused us to delay forsome hours; four roads, or rather forest paths, meeting here, all ofwhich were difficult to find. After a while, part of amarriage-procession came up, headed by the bridegroom, a handsomeyoung Lepcha, leading a cow for the marriage feast; and after talkingto him a little, he volunteered to show us the path. On the flats bythe stream grew the Sago palm (Cycas pectinata), with a stem tenfeet high, and a beautiful crown of foliage; the contrast betweenthis and the Scotch-looking pine (both growing with oaks and palms)was curious. Much of the forest had been burnt, and we traversedlarge blackened patches, where the heat was intense, and increased bythe burning trunks of prostrate trees, which smoulder for months, andleave a heap of white ashes. The larger timber being hollow in thecentre, a current of air is produced, which causes the interior toburn rapidly, till the sides fall in, and all is consumed. I wasoften startled, when walking in the forest, by the hot blastproceeding from such, which I had approached without a suspicion oftheir being other than cold dead trunks.

Leaving the forest, the path led along the river bank, and over thegreat masses of rock which strewed its course. The beautifulIndia-rubber fig was common, as was Bassia butyracea, the "YelPote" of the Lepchas, from the seeds of which they express a concreteoil, which is received and hardens in bamboo vessels. On theforest-skirts, Hoya, parasitical Orchideae, and Ferns, abounded;the Chaulmoogra, whose fruit is used to intoxicate fish, was verycommon; as was an immense mulberry tree, that yields a milky juiceand produces a long green sweet fruit. Large fish, chiefly Cyprinoid,were abundant in the beautifully clear water of the river. But by farthe most striking feature consisted in the amazing quantity of superbbutterflies, large tropical swallow-tails, black, with scarlet oryellow eyes on their wings. They were seen everywhere, sailingmajestically through the still hot air, or fluttering from onescorching rock to another, and especially loving to settle on thedamp sand of the river-edge; where they sat by thousands, with erectwings, balancing themselves with a rocking motion, as their heavysails inclined them to one side or the other; resembling a crowdedfleet of yachts on a calm day. Such an entomological display cannotbe surpassed. Cicindelae were very numerous, and incredibly active,as were Grylli; and the great Cicadeae were everywhere lightingon the ground, when they uttered a short sharp creaking sound, andanon disappeared, as if by magic. Beautiful whip-snakes were gleamingin the sun: they hold on by a few coils of the tail round a twig, thegreater part of their body stretched out horizontally, occasionallyretracting, and darting an unerring aim at some insect.The narrowness of the gorge, and the excessive steepness of thebounding hills, prevented any view, except of the opposite mountainface, which was one dense forest, in which the wild Bananawas conspicuous.

Towards evening we arrived at another cane-bridge, still moredilapidated than the former, but similar in structure. For a fewhundred yards before reaching it, we lost the path, and followed theprecipitous face of slate-rocks overhanging the stream, which dashedwith great violence below. Though we could not walk comfortably, evenwith our shoes off, the Lepchas, bearing their enormous loads,proceeded with perfect indifference.

Anxious to avoid sleeping at the bottom of the valley, we crawled,very much fatigued, through burnt dry forest, up a very sharp ridge,so narrow that the tent sat astride on it, the ropes being fastenedto the tops of small trees on either slope. The ground swarmed withblack ants, which got into our tea, sugar, etc., while it was socovered with charcoal, that we were soon begrimed. Our Lepchaspreferred remaining on the river-bank, whence they had to bring upwater to us, in great bamboo "chungis," as they are called. The greatdryness of this face is owing to its southern exposure: the oppositemountains, equally high and steep, being clothed in a rich greenforest.

At nine the next morning, the temperature was 78 degrees, but a finecool easterly wind blew. Descending to the bed of the river, thetemperature was 84 degrees. The difference in humidity of the twostations (with about 300 feet difference in height) was moreremarkable; at the upper, the wet bulb thermometer was 67.5 degrees,and consequently the saturation point, 0.713; at the lower, the wetbulb was 68 degrees, and saturation, 0.599. The temperature of theriver was, at all hours of the preceding day, and this morning, 67.5degrees.* [At this hour, the probable temperature at Dorjiling (6000feet above this) would be 56 degrees, with a temperature of wet bulb55 degrees, and the atmosphere loaded with vapour. At Calcutta,again, the temperature was at the observatory 98.3 degrees, wet bulb,81.8 degrees, and saturation=0.137. The dryness of the air, in thedamper-looking and luxuriant river-bed, was owing to the heated rocksof its channel; while the humidity of the atmosphere over thedrier-looking hill where we encamped, was due to the moisture of thewind then blowing.]

Our course down the river was by so rugged a path, that, giddy andfootsore with leaping from rock to rock, we at last attempted thejungle, but it proved utterly impervious. On turning a bend of thestream, the mountains of Bhotan suddenly presented themselves, withthe Teesta flowing at their base; and we emerged at the angle formedby the junction of the Rungeet, which we had followed from the west,of the Teesta, coming from the north, and of their united streamsflowing south.

We were not long before enjoying the water, when I was surprised tofind that of the Teesta singularly cold; its temperature being 7degrees below that of the Rungeet.* [This is, no doubt, due partly tothe Teesta flowing south, and thus having less of the sun, and partlyto its draining snowy mountains throughout a much longer portion ofits course. The temperature of the one was 67.5 degrees, and that ofthe other 60.5 degrees.] At the salient angle (a rocky peninsula) oftheir junction, we could almost place one foot in the cold stream andthe other in the warmer. There is a no less marked difference in thecolour of the two rivers; the Teesta being sea-green and muddy, theGreat Rungeet dark green and very clear; and the waters, like thoseof the Arve and Rhone at Geneva, preserve their colours for somehundred yards; the line separating the two being most distinctlydrawn. The Teesta, or main stream, is much the broadest (about 80 or100 yards wide at this season), the most rapid and deep. The rockswhich skirt its bank were covered with a silt or mud deposit, which Inowhere observed along the Great Rungeet, and which, as well as itscolour and coldness, was owing to the vast number of then meltingglaciers drained by this river. The Rungeet, on the other hand,though it rises amongst the glaciers of Kinchinjunga and its sisterpeaks, is chiefly supplied by the rainfall of the outer ranges ofSinchul and Singalelah, and hence its waters are clear, except duringthe height of the rains.

From this place we returned to Dorjiling, arriving on the afternoonof the following day.

The most interesting trip to be made from Dorjiling, is that to thesummit of Tonglo, a mountain on the Singalelah range, 10,079 feethigh, due west of the station, and twelve miles in a straight line,but fully thirty by the path.* [A full account of the botanicalfeatures noticed on this excursion (which I made in May, 1848, withMr. Barnes) has appeared in the "London Journal of Botany," and the"Horticultural Society's Journal," and I shall, therefore,recapitulate its leading incidents only.]

Leaving the station by a native path, the latter plunges at once intoa forest, and descends very rapidly, occasionally emerging on clearedspurs, where are fine crops of various millets, with much maize andrice. Of the latter grain as many as eight or ten varieties arecultivated, but seldom irrigated, which, owing to the dampness of theclimate, is not necessary: the produce is often eighty-fold, but thegrain is large, coarse, reddish, and rather gelatinous when boiled.After burning the timber, the top soil is very fertile for severalseasons, abounding in humus, below which is a stratum of stiff clay,often of great thickness, produced by the disintegration of therocks;* [An analysis of the soil will be found in the Appendix.] theclay makes excellent bricks, and often contains nearly 30 per cent.of alumina.

At about 4000 feet the great bamboo ("Pao" Lepcha) abounds; itflowers every year, which is not the case with all others of thisgenus, most of which flower profusely over large tracts of country,once in a great many years, and then die away; their place beingsupplied by seedlings, which grow with immense rapidity.This well-known fact is not due, as some suppose, to the life of thespecies being of such a duration, but to favourable circ*mstances inthe season. The Pao attains a height of 40 to 60 feet, and the culmsaverage in thickness the human thigh; it is used for largewater-vessels, and its leaves form admirable thatch, in universal usefor European houses at Dorjiling. Besides this, the Lepchas areacquainted with nearly a dozen kinds of bamboo; these occur atvarious elevations below 12,000 feet, forming, even in thepine-woods, and above their zone, in the skirts of the Rhododendronscrub, a small and sometimes almost impervious jungle. In aneconomical point of view they maybe classed as those which splitreadily, and those which do not. The young shoots of several areeaten, and the seeds of one are made into a fermented drink, and intobread in times of scarcity; but it would take many pages to describethe numerous purposes to which the various species are put.

Illusration — LEPCHA WATER-CARRIER WITH A BAMBOO CHUNGI.

Gordonia is their most common tree (G. Wallichii), much prized forploughshares and other purposes requiring a hard wood: it is the"Sing-brang-kun" of the Lepchas, and ascends to 4000 feet. Oaks atthis elevation occur as solitary trees, of species different fromthose of Dorjiling. There are three or four with a cup-shapedinvolucre, and three with spinous involucres enclosing an eatablesweet nut; these generally grow on a dry clayey soil.

Some low steep spurs were well cultivated, though the angle of thefield was upwards of 25 degrees; the crops, chiefly maize, were justsprouting. This plant is occasionally hermaphrodite in Sikkim, theflowers forming a large drooping panicle and ripening small grains;it is, however, a rare occurrence, and the specimens are highlyvalued by the people.

The general prevalence of figs,* [One species of this very tropicalgenus ascends almost to 9000 feet on the outer ranges of Sikkim.] andtheir allies, the nettles,* [Of two of these cloth is made, and of athird, cordage. The tops of two are eaten, as are several species ofProcris. The "Poa" belongs to this order, yielding that kind ofgrass cloth fibre, now abundantly imported into England from theMalay Islands, and used extensively for shirting.] is a remarkablefeature in the botany of the Sikkim Himalaya, up to nearly 10,000feet. Of the former there were here five species, some bearingeatable and very palatable fruit of enormous size, others with thefruit small and borne on prostrate, leafless branches, which springfrom the root and creep along the ground.

A troublesome, dipterous insect (the "Peepsa," a species ofSiamulium) swarms on the banks of the streams; it is very small andblack, floating like a speck before the eye; its bite leaves a spotof extravasated blood under the cuticle, very irritating ifnot opened.

Crossing the Little Rungeet river, we camped on the base of Tonglo.The night was calm and clear, with faint cirrus, but no dew.A thermometer sunk two feet in rich vegetable mould stood at 78degrees two hours after it was lowered, and the same on the followingmorning. This probably indicates the mean temperature of the month atthat spot, where, however, the dark colour of the exposed loose soilmust raise the temperature considerably.

May 20th.—The temperature at sunrise was 67 degrees; the morningbright, and clear over head, but the mountains looked threatening.Dorjiling, perched on a ridge 5000 feet above us, had a singularappearance. We ascended the Simonbong spur of Tonglo, so called froma small village and Lama temple of that name on its summit; where wearrived at noon, and passing some chaits* [The chait of Sikkim,borrowed from Tibet, is a square pedestal, surmounted with ahemisphere, the convex end downwards, and on it is placed a cone,with a crescent on the top. These are erected as tombs to Lamas, andas monuments to illustrious persons, and are venerated accordingly,the people always passing them from left to right, often repeatingthe invocation, "Ora Mani Padmi om."] gained the Lama's residence.

Two species of bamboo, the "Payong" and "Praong" of the Lepchas, herereplace the Pao of the lower regions. The former was floweringabundantly, the whole of the culms (which were 20 feet high) being adiffuse panicle of inflorescence. The "Praong" bears a round head offlowers at the ends of the leafy branches. Wild strawberry, violet,geranium, etc., announced our approach to the temperate zone.Around the temple were potato crops and peach-trees, rice, millet,yam, brinjal (egg-apple), fennel, hemp (for smoking its narcoticleaves), and cummin, etc. The potato thrives extremely well as asummer crop, at 7000 feet, in Sikkim, though I think the root (fromthe Dorjiling stock) cultivated as a winter crop in the plains, issuperior both in size and flavour. Peaches never ripen in this partof Sikkim, apparently from the want of sun; the tree grows well atfrom 3000 to 7000 feet elevation, and flowers abundantly; the fruitmaking the nearest approach to maturity (according to the elevation)from July to October. At Dorjiling it follows the English seasons,flowering in March and fruiting in September, when the scarcereddened and still hard fruit falls from the tree. In the plains ofIndia, both this and the plum ripen in May, but the fruits arevery acid.

It is curious that throughout this temperate region, there is hardlyan eatable fruit except the native walnut, and some brambles, ofwhich the "yellow" and "ground raspberry" are the best, some insipidfigs, and a very austere crab-apple. The European apple will scarcelyripen,* [This fruit, and several others, ripen at Katmandoo, in Nepal(alt. 4000 feet), which place enjoys more sunshine than Sikkim.I have, however, received very differedt accounts of the produce,which, on the whole, appears to be inferior.] and the pear not atall. Currants and gooseberries show no disposition to thrive, andstrawberries are the only fruits that ripen at all, which they do inthe greatest abundance. Vines, figs, pomegranates, plums, apricots,etc., will not succeed even as trees. European vegetables again grow,and thrive remarkably well throughout the summer of Dorjiling, andthe produce is very fair, sweet and good, but inferior in flavour tothe English.

Of tropical fruits cultivated below 4000 feet, oranges andindifferent bananas alone are frequent, with lemons of various kinds.The season for these is, however, very short; though that of theplantain might with care be prolonged; oranges abound in winter, andare excellent, but neither so large nor free of white pulp as thoseof the Khasia hills, the West Indies, or the west coast of Africa.Mangos are brought from the plains, for though wild in Sikkim, thecultivated kinds do not thrive; I have seen the pine-apple plant, butI never met with good fruit on it.

A singular and almost total absence of the light, and of the directrays of the sun in the ripening season, is the cause of this dearthof fruit. Both the farmer and orchard gardener in England know fullwell the value of a bright sky as well as of a warm autumnalatmosphere. Without this corn does not ripen, and fruit-trees areblighted. The winter of the plains of India being more analogous inits distribution of moisture and heat to a European summer, suchfruits as the peach, vine, and even plum, fig, strawberry, etc., maybe brought to bear well in March, April, and May, if they are onlycarefully tended through the previous hot and damp season, which is,in respect to the functions of flowering and fruiting, their winter.

Hence it appears that, though some English fruits will turn thewinter solstice of Bengal (November to May) into summer, and thenflower and fruit, neither these nor others will thrive in the summerof 7000 feet on the Sikkim Himalaya, (though its temperature sonearly approaches that of England,) on account of its rain and fogs.Further, they are often exposed to a winter's cold equal to theaverage of that of London, the snow lying for a week on the ground,and the thermometer descending to 25 degrees. It is true that in nocase is the extreme of cold so great here as in England, but it issufficient to check vegetation, and to prevent fruit-trees fromflowering till they are fruiting in the plains. There is in thisrespect a great difference between the climate of the central andeastern and western Himalaya, at equal elevations. In the western(Kumaon, etc.) the winters are colder than in Sikkim—the summerswarmer and less humid. The rainy season is shorter, and the sunshines so much more frequently between the heavy showers, that theapple and other fruits are brought to a much better state. It is truethat the rain-gauge may show as great a fall there, but this is nomeasure of the humidity of the atmosphere, and still less so of theamount of the sun's direct light and heat intercepted by aqueousvapour, for it takes no account of the quantity of moisture suspendedin the air, nor of the depositions from fogs, which are far morefatal to the perfecting of fruits than the heaviest brief showers.

The Indian climate, which is marked by one season of excessivehumidity and the other of excessive drought, can never be favourableto the production either of good European or tropical fruits.Hence there is not one of the latter peculiar to the country, andperhaps but one which arrives at full perfection; namely, the mango.Tile plantains, oranges, and pine-apples are less abundant, ofinferior kinds, and remain a shorter season in perfection than theydo in South America, the West Indies, or Western Africa.

Illustration — LEPCHA AMULET.

CHAPTER VII.

Continue the ascent of Tonglo — Trees — Lepcha construction of hut
— Simsibong — Climbing-trees — Frogs — Magnolias, etc. — Ticks
— Leeches — — Cattle, murrain amongst — Summit of Tonglo —
Rhododendrons — Skimmia — Yew — Rose — Aconite — Bikh poison —
English genera of plants — Ascent of tropical orders — Comparison
with south temperate zone — Heavy rain — Temperature, etc. —
Descent — Simonbong temple — Furniture therein — Praying-cylinder
— Thigh-bone trumpet — Morning orisons — Present of Murwa
beer, etc.

Continuing the ascent of Tonglo, we left cultivation and the poorgroves of peaches at 4000 to 5000 feet (and this on the easternexposure, which is by far the sunniest), the average height whichagriculture reaches in Sikkim.

Above Simonbong, the path up Tonglo is little frequented: it is oneof the many routes between Nepal and Sikkim, which cross theSingalelah spur of Kinchinjunga at various elevations between 7000and 15,000 feet. As usual, the track runs along ridges, whereverthese are to be found, very steep, and narrow at the top, throughdeep humid forests of oaks and Magnolias, many laurels, bothTetranthera and Cinnamomum, one species of the latter ascendingto 8,500 feet, and one of Tetranthera to 9000. Chesnut and walnuthere appeared, with some leguminous trees, which however did notascend to 6000 feet. Scarlet flowers of Vaccinium serpens, anepiphytical species, were strewed about, and the great blossoms ofRhododendron Dalhousiae and of a Magnolia (Talaunaa Hodgsoni) laytogether on the ground. The latter forms a large tree, with verydense foliage, and deep shining green leaves, a foot to eighteeninches long. Most of its flowers drop unexpanded from the tree, anddiffuse a very aromatic smell; they are nearly as large as the fist,the outer petals purple, the inner pure white.

Heavy rain came on at 3 p.m., obliging us to take insufficientshelter under the trees, and finally to seek the nearestcamping-ground. For this purpose we ascended to a spring, calledSimsibong, at an elevation of 6000 feet. The narrowness of the ridgeprevented our pitching the tent, small as it was; but the Lepchasrapidly constructed a house, and thatched it with bamboo and thebroad leaves of the wild plantain. A table was then raised in themiddle, of four posts and as many cross pieces of wood, lashed withstrips of bamboo. Across these, pieces of bamboo were laid,ingeniously flattened, by selecting cylinders, crimping them allround, and then slitting each down one side, so that it opens into aflat slab. Similar but longer and lower erections, one on each sidethe table, formed bed or chair; and in one hour, half a dozen men,with only long knives and active hands, had provided us with atolerably water-tight furnished house. A thick flooring of hambooleaves kept the feet dry, and a screen of that and other foliage allround rendered the habitation tolerably warm.

At this elevation we found great scandent trees twisting around thetrunks of others, and strangling them: the latter gradually decay,leaving the sheath of climbers as one of the most remarkablevegetable phenomena of these mountains. These climbers belong toseveral orders, and may be roughly classified in two groups.—(1.) Those whose sterns merely twine, and by constricting certainparts of their support, induce death.—(2.) Those which form anetwork round the trunk, by the coalescence of their lateral branchesand aerial roots, etc.: these wholly envelop and often conceal thetree they enclose, whose branches appear rising far above those ofits destroyer. To the first of these groups belong many naturalorders, of which the most prominent are—Leguminosae, ivies,hydrangea, vines, Pothos, etc. The inosculating ones are almost allfigs and Wightia: the latter is the most remarkable, and I add acut of its grasping roots, sketched at our encampment.

Illustration — CLASPING ROOTS OF WIGHTIA.

Except for the occasional hooting of an owl, the night was profoundlystill during several hours after dark—the cicadas at this season notascending so high on the mountain. A dense mist shrouded every thing,and the rain pattered on the leaves of our hut. At midnight atree-frog ("Simook," Lepcha) broke the silence with his curiousmetallic clack, and others quickly joined the chorus, keeping uptheir strange music till morning. Like many Batrachians, this has avoice singularly unlike that of any other organised creature.The cries of beasts, birds, and insects are all explicable to oursenses, and we can recognise most of them as belonging to such orsuch an order of animal; but the voices of many frogs are likenothing else, and allied species utter totally dissimilar noises.In some, as this, the sound is like the concussion of metals; inothers, of the vibration of wires or cords; anything but the naturaleffects of lungs, larynx, and muscles.* [A very common Tasmanianspecies utters a sound that appears to ring in an underground vaultedchamber, beneath the feet.]

May 21.—Early this morning we proceeded upwards, our prospect moregloomy than ever. The path, which still lay up steep ridges, was veryslippery, owing to the rain upon the clayey soil, and was onlypassable from the hold afforded by interlacing roots of trees.At 8000 feet, some enormous detached masses of micaceous gneiss roseabruptly from the ridge, they were covered with mosses and ferns, andfrom their summit, 7000 feet, a good view of the surroundingvegetation is obtained. The mast of the forest is formed of:—(1) Three species of oak, of which Q. annulata ? with immenselamellated acorns, and leaves sixteen inches long, is the tallest andthe most abundant.—(2) Chesnut.—(3) Laurineae of several species,all beautiful forest-trees, straight-holed, and umbrageousabove.—(4) Magnolias.* [Other trees were Pyrus, Saurauja (both anerect and climbing species), Olea, cherry, birch, alder, severalmaples, Hydrangea, one species of fig, holly, and severalAraliaceous trees. Many species of Magnoliaceae (including thegenera Magnolia, Michelia, and Talauma) are found in Sikkim:Magnolia Campbellii, of 10,000 feet, is the most superb speciesknown. In books on botanical geography, the magnolias are consideredas most abounding in North America, east of the Rocky Mountains; butthis is a great mistake, the Indian mountains and islands being thecentre of this natural order.]—(5) Arborescent rhododendrons, whichcommence here with the R. arboreum. At 8000 and 9000 feet, aconsiderable change is found in the vegetation; the gigantic purpleMagnolia Campbellii replacing the white; chesnut disappears, andseveral laurels: other kinds of maple are seen, with Rhododendronargenteum, and Stauntonia, a handsome climber, which has beautifulpendent clusters of lilac blossoms.

At 9000 feet we arrived on a long flat covered with lofty trees,chiefly purple magnolias, with a few oaks, great Pyri and tworhododendrons, thirty to forty feet high (R. barbatum, and R.arboreum, var. roseum): Skimmia and Symplocos were the commonshrubs. A beautiful orchid with purple flowers (CaelogyneWallichii) grew on the trunks of all the great trees, attaining ahigher elevation than most other epiphytical species, for I have seenit at 10,000 feet.

A large tick infests the small bamboo, and a more hateful insect Inever encountered. The traveller cannot avoid these insects coming onhis person (sometimes in great numbers) as he brushes through theforest; they get inside his dress, and insert the proboscis deeplywithout pain. Buried head and shoulders, and retained by a barbedlancet, the tick is only to be extracted by force, which is verypainful. I have devised many tortures, mechanical and chemical, toinduce these disgusting intruders to withdraw the proboscis, but invain. Leeches* [I cannot but think that the extraordinary abundanceof these Anelides in Sikkim may cause the death of many animals.Some marked murrains have followed very wet seasons, when the leechesappear in incredible numbers; and the disease in the cattle,described to me by the Lepchas as in the stomach, in no way differsfrom what leeches would produce. It is a well-known fact, that thesecreatures have lived for days in the fauces, nares, and stomachs ofthe human subject, causing dreadful sufferings, and death. I haveseen the cattle feeding in places where the leeches so abounded, thatfifty or sixty were frequently together on my ankles; and ponies arealmost maddened by their biting the fetlocks.] also swarm below 7000feet; a small black species above 3000 feet, and a large yellow-brownsolitary one below that elevation.

Our ascent to the summit was by the bed of a watercourse, now aroaring torrent, from the heavy and incessant rain. A smallAnagallis (like tenella), and a beautiful purple primrose, grewby its bank. The top of the mountain is another flat ridge, withdepressions and broad pools. The number of additional species ofplants found here was great, and all betokened a rapid approach tothe alpine region of the Himalaya. In order of prevalence the treeswere,—the scarlet Rhododendron arboreum and barbatum, as largebushy trees, both loaded with beautiful flowers and luxuriantfoliage; R. Falconeri, in point of foliage the most superb of allthe Himalayan species, with trunks thirty feet high, and branchesbearing at their ends only leaves eighteen inches long: these aredeep green above, and covered beneath with a rich brown down. Next inabundance to these were shrubs of Skimmia Laureola,* [This planthas been lately introduced into English gardens, from the north-westHimalaya, and is greatly admired for its aromatic, evergreen foliage,and clusters of scarlet berries. It is a curious fact, that thisplant never bears scarlet berries in Sikkim, apparently owing to thewant of sun; the fruit ripens, but is of a greenish-red or purplishcolour.] Symplocos, and Hydrangea; and there were still a fewpurple magnolias, very large Pyri, like mountain ash, and thecommon English yew, eighteen feet in circumference, the red bark ofwhich is used as a dye, and for staining the foreheads of Brahmins inNepal. An erect white-flowered rose (R. sericea, the only speciesoccurring in Southern Sikkim) was very abundant: its numerousinodorous flowers are pendent, apparent as a protection from therain; and it is remarkable as being the only species having fourpetals instead of five.

A currant was common, always growing epiphytically on the trunks oflarge trees. Two or three species of Berberry, a cherry, Andromeda,Daphne, and maple, nearly complete, I think, the list of woodyplants. Amongst the herbs were many of great interest, as a rhubarb,and Aconitum palmatum, which yields one of the celebrated "Bikh"poisons.* ["Bikh" is yielded by various Aconita. All the Sikkimkinds are called "gniong" by Lepchas and Bhoteeas, who do notdistinguish them. The A. Napellus is abundant in the north-westHimalaya, and is perhaps as virulent a Bikh as any species.]Of European genera I found Thalictrum, Anemone, Fumaria, violets,Stellaria, Hypericum, two geraniums, balsams, Epilobium,Potentilla, Paris and Convallariae, one of the latter hasverticillate leaves, and its root also called "bikh," is considered avery virulent poison.

Still, the absence or rarity at this elevation of several very largenatural families,* [Ranunculaceae, Fumariae, Cruciferae, Alsineae,Geranicae, Leguminosae, Potentilla, Epilobium, Crassulaceae,Saxifrageae, Umbelliferae, Lonicera, Valerianeae, Dipsaceae, variousgenera of Compositae, Campanulaceae, Lobeliaceae, Gentianeae,Boragineae, Scrophularineae, Primulaceae, Gramineae.] which havenumerous representatives at and much below the same level in theinner ranges, and on the outer of the Western Himalaya, indicate acertain peculiarity in Sikkim. On the other hand, certain tropicalgenera are more abundant in the temperate zone of the Sikkimmountains, and ascend much higher there than in the Western Himalaya:of this fact I have cited conspicuous examples in the palms,plantains, and tree-ferns. This ascent and prevalence of tropicalspecies is due to the humidity and equability of the climate in thistemperate zone, and is, perhaps, the direct consequence of theseconditions. An application of the same laws accounts for theextension of similar features far beyond the tropical limit in theSouthern Ocean, where various natural orders, which do not cross the30th and 40th parallels of N. latitude, are extended to the 55th ofS. latitude, and found in Tasmania, New Zealand, the so-calledAntarctic Islands south of that group, and at Cape Horn itself.

The rarity of Pines is perhaps the most curious feature in the botanyof Tonglo, and on the outer ranges of Sikkim; for, between the levelof 2,500 feet (the upper limit of P. longifolia) and 10,000 feet(that of the Taxus), there is no coniferous tree whatever inSouthern Sikkim.

We encamped amongst Rhododendrons, on a spongy soil of blackvegetable matter, so oozy, that it was difficult to keep the feetdry. The rain poured in torrents all the evening, and with the calm,and the wetness of the wood, prevented our enjoying a fire. Except atransient view into Nepal, a few miles west of us, nothing was to beseen, the whole mountain being wrapped in dense masses of vapour.Gusts of wind, not felt in the forest, whistled through the gnarledand naked tree-tops; and though the temperature was 50 degrees, thiswind produced cold to the feelings. Our poor Lepchas were miserablyoff, but always happy: under four posts and a bamboo-leaf thatch,with no covering but a single thin cotton garment, they crouched onthe sodden turf, joking with the Hindoos of our party, who, thoughsupplied with good clothing and shelter, were doleful companions.

I made a shed for my instruments under a tree; Mr. Barnes, everactive and ready, floored the tent with logs of wood, and I laid a"corduroy road" of the same to my little observatory.

During the night the rain did not abate; and the tent-roof leaked insuch torrents, that we had to throw pieces of wax-cloth over ourshoulders as we lay in bed. There was no improvement whatever in theweather on the following morning. Two of the Hindoos had crawled intothe tent during the night, attacked with fever and ague.* [It is aremarkable fact, that both the natives of the plains, under manycirc*mstances, and the Lepchas when suffering from protracted coldand wet, take fever and ague in sharp attacks. The disease is whollyunknown amongst Europeans residing above 4000 feet, similar exposurein whom brings on rheumatism and cold.] The tent being too sodden tobe carried, we had to remain where we were, and with abundance ofnovelty in the botany around, I found no difficulty in gettingthrough the day. Observing the track of sheep, we sent two Lepchas tofollow them, who returned at night from some miles west in Nepal,bringing two. The shepherds were Geroongs of Nepal, who were grazingtheir flocks on a grassy mountain top, from which the woods had beencleared, probably by fire. The mutton was a great boon to theLepchas, but the Hindoos would not touch it, and several moresickening during the day, we had the tent most uncomfortably full.

During the whole of the 22nd, from 7 a.m. to 11 p.m., the thermometernever varied 6.5 degrees, ranging from 47.5 in the morning to 54degrees, its maximum, at 1 p.m., and 50.75 at night. At seven thefollowing morning it was the same. One, sunk two feet six inches inmould and clay, stood constantly at 50.75. The dew-point was alwaysbelow the temperature, at which I was surprised, for more drenchingweather could not well be. The mean dew-point was 50.25, andconsequent humidity, 0.973.

These observations, and those of the barometer, were taken 60 feetbelow the summit, to which I moved the instruments on the morning ofthe 23rd. At a much more exposed spot the results would no doubt havebeen different, for a thermometer, there sunk to the same depth asthat below, stood at 49.75 (or one degree colder than 60 feet lowerdown). My barometrical observations, taken simultaneously with thoseof Calcutta, give the height of Tonglo, 10,078.3 feet; ColonelWaugh's, by trigonometry, 10,079.4 feet,—a remarkable and unusualcoincidence.

May 23.—We spent a few hours of alternate fog and sunshine on thetop of the mountain, vainly hoping for the most modest view; ourinability to obtain it was extremely disappointing, for the mountaincommands a superb prospect, which I enjoyed fully in the followingNovember, from a spot a few miles further west. The air, which wasalways foggy, was alternately cooled and heated, as it blew over thetrees, or the open space we occupied; sometimes varying 5 degrees and6 degrees in a quarter of an hour.

Having partially dried the tent in the wind, we commenced thedescent, which owing to the late torrents of rain, was most fatiguingand slippery; it again commenced to drizzle at noon, nor was it tillwe had descended to 6000 feet that we emerged from the region ofclouds. By dark we arrived at Simonbong, having descended 5000 feet,at the rate of 1000 feet an hour; and were kindly received by theLama, who gave us his temple for the accommodation of the wholeparty. We were surprised at this, both because the Sikkim authoritieshad represented the Lamas as very averse to Europeans, and because hemight well have hesitated before admitting a promiscuous horde ofthirty people into a sacred building, where the little valuables onthe altar, etc., were quite at our disposal. A better tribute couldnot well have been paid to the honesty of my Lepcha followers. Ourhost only begged us not to disturb his people, nor to allow theHindoos of our party to smoke inside.

Illustration—SIMONBONG TEMPLE.

Simonbong is one of the smallest and poorest Gumpas, or temples, inSikkim: unlike the better class, it is built of wood only.It consisted of one large room, with small sliding shutter windows,raised on a stone foundation, and roofed with shingles of wood;opposite the door a wooden altar was placed, rudely chequered withblack, white, and red; to the right and left were shelves, with a fewTibetan books, wrapped in silk; a model of Symbonath temple in Nepal,a praying-cylinder,* [It consisted of a leathern cylinder placedupright in a frame; a projecting piece of iron strikes a little bellat each revolution, the revolution being caused by an elbowed axleand string. Within the cylinder are deposited written prayers, andwhoever pulls the string properly is considered to have repeated hisprayers as often as the bell rings. Representations of theseimplements will be found in other parts of these volumes.] and someimplements for common purposes, bags of juniper, English wine-bottlesand glasses, with tufts of Abies Webbiana, rhododendron flowers,and peaco*ck's feathers, besides various trifles, clay ornaments andofferings, and little Hindoo idols. On the altar were ranged sevenlittle brass cups, full of water; a large conch shell, carved withthe sacred lotus; a brass jug from Lhassa, of beautiful design, and ahuman thigh-bone, hollow, and perforated through both condyles.* [Tothese are often added a double-headed rattle, or small drum, formedof two crowns of human skulls, cemented back to back; each face isthen covered with parchment, and encloses some pebbles. Sometimesthis instrument is provided with a handle.]

Illustration—TRUMPET MADE OF A HUMAN THIGH-BONE.

Facing the altar was a bench and a chair, and on one side a hugetambourine, with two curved iron drum-sticks. The bench was coveredwith bells, handsomely carved with idols, and censers withjuniper-ashes; and on it lay the dorge, or double-headedthunderbolt, which the Lama holds in his hand during service. Of allthese articles, the human thigh-bone is by much the most curious; itis very often that of a Lama, and is valuable in proportion to itslength.* [It is reported at Dorjiling, that one of the firstEuropeans buried at this station, being a tall man, was disinterredby the resurrectionist Bhoteeas for his _trumpet-bones.] As, however,the Sikkim Lamas are burned, the relics are generally procured fromTibet, where the corpses are cut in pieces and thrown to the kites,or into the water.

Two boys usually reside in the temple, and their beds were given upto us, which being only rough planks laid on the floor, proved cleanin one sense, but contrasted badly with the springy couch of bamboothe Lepcha makes, which renders carrying a mattress or aught butblankets superfluous.

May 24.—We were awakened at daylight by the discordant orisons ofthe Lama; these commenced by the boys beating the great tambourine,then blowing the conch-shells, and finally the trumpets andthigh-bone. Shortly the Lama entered, clad in scarlet, shorn andbarefooted, wearing a small red silk mitre, a loose gown girt roundthe middle, and an under-garment of questionable colour, possiblyonce purple. He walked along, slowly muttering his prayers, to theend of the apartment, whence he took a brass bell and dorge, and,sitting down cross-legged, commenced matins, counting his beads, orringing the bell, and uttering most dismal prayers. After variousdisposals of the cups, a larger bell was violently rung for someminutes, himself snapping his fingers and uttering most unearthlysounds. Finally, incense was brought, of charcoal withjuniper-sprigs; it was swung about, and concluded the morning serviceto our great relief, for the noises were quite intolerable. Fervid asthe devotions appeared, to judge by their intonation, I fear the Lamafelt more curious about us than was proper under the circ*mstances;and when I tried to sketch him, his excitement knew no bounds; hefairly turned round on the settee, and, continuing his prayers andbell-accompaniment, appeared to be exorcising me, or some spiritwithin me.

After breakfast the Lama came to visit us, bringing rice, a fewvegetables, and a large bamboo-work bowl, thickly varnished withindia-rubber, and waterproof, containing half-fermented millet.This mixture, called Murwa, is invariably offered to the traveller,either in the state of fermented grain, or more commonly in a bamboojug, filled quite up with warm water; when the fluid, sucked througha reed, affords a refreshing drink. He gratefully accepted a fewrupees and trifles which we had to spare.

Leaving Simonbong, we descended to the Little Rungeet, where the heatof the valley was very great; 80 degrees at noon, and that of thestream 69 degrees; the latter was an agreeable temperature for thecoolies, who plunged, teeming with perspiration, into the water,catching fish with their hands. We reached Dorjiling late in theevening, again drenched with rain; our people, Hindoo and Lepcha,imprudently remaining for the night in the valley. Owing probably asmuch to the great exposure they had lately gone through, as to thesudden transition from a mean temperature of 50 degrees in a bracingwind, to a hot close jungly valley at 75 degrees, no less than sevenwere laid up with fever and ague.

Few excursions can afford a better idea of the general features andrich luxuriance of the Sikkim Himalaya than that to Tonglo. It isalways interesting to roam with an aboriginal, and especially amountain people, through their thinly inhabited valleys, over theirgrand mountains, and to dwell alone with them in their gloomy andforbidding forests, and no thinking man can do so without learningmuch, however slender be the means at his command for communion.A more interesting and attractive companion than the Lepcha I neverlived with: cheerful, kind, and patient with a master to whom he isattached; rude but not savage, ignorant and yet intelligent; with thesimple resource of a plain knife he makes his house and furnishesyours, with a speed, alacrity, and ingenuity that wile away thatwell-known long hour when the weary pilgrim frets for his couch.In all my dealings with these people, they proved scrupulouslyhonest. Except for drunkenness and carelessness, I never had tocomplain of any of the merry troop; some of whom, bareheaded andbarelegged, possessing little or nothing save a cotton garment and along knife, followed me for many months on subsequent occasions, fromthe scorching plains to the everlasting snows. Ever foremost in theforest or on the bleak mountain, and ever ready to help, to carry, toencamp, collect, or cook, they cheer on the traveller by theirunostentatious zeal in his service, and are spurs to his progress.

Illustration—TIBETAN AMULET.

CHAPTER VIII.

Difficulty in procuring leave to enter Sikkim — Obtain permission totravel in East Nepal — Arrangements — Coolies — Stores — Servants— Personal equipment — Mode of travelling — Leave Dorjiling —Goong ridge — Behaviour of Bhotan coolies — Nepal frontier — Myongvalley — Ilam — Sikkim massacre — Cultivation — Nettles — Campat Nanki on Tonglo — Bhotan coolies run away — View of Chumulari —Nepal peaks to west — Sakkiazung — Buceros — Road to Wallanchoon— Oaks — Scarcity of water — Singular view of mountain-valleys —Encampment — My tent and its furniture — Evening occupations —Dunkotah — Crossridge of Sakkiazung — Yews — Silver-firs — Viewof Tambur valley — Pemmi river — Pebbly terraces — Geology — Holysprings — Enormous trees — Luculia gratissima — Khawa river, rocksof — Arrive at Tambur — Shingle and gravel terraces — Natives,indolence of — Canoe ferry — Votive offerings — Bad road —Temperature, etc. — Chingtam village, view from — Mywa river andGuola — House — Boulders — Chain-bridge — Meepo, arrival of —Fevers. Owing to the unsatisfactory nature of our relations withthe Sikkim authorities, to which I have elsewhere alluded, myendeavours to procure leave to penetrate further beyond the Dorjilingterritory than Tonglo, were attended with some trouble and delay.

In the autumn of 1848, the Governor-General communicated with theRajah, desiring him to grant me honourable and safe escort throughhis dominions; but this was at once met by a decided refusal,apparently admitting of no compromise. Pending further negotiations,which Dr. Campbell felt sure would terminate satisfactorily, thoughperhaps too late for my purpose, he applied to the Nepal Rajah forpermission for me to visit the Tibetan passes, west of Kinchinjunga;proposing in the meanwhile to arrange for my return through Sikkim.Through the kindness of Col. Thoresby, the Resident at that Court,and the influence of Jung Bahadoor, this request was promptly accededto, and a guard of six Nepalese soldiers and two officers was sent toDorjiling to conduct me to any part of the eastern districts of Nepalwhich I might select. I decided upon following up the Tambur, abranch of the Arun river, and exploring the two easternmost of theNepalese passes into Tibet (Wallanchoon and Kanglachem), which wouldbring me as near to the central mass and loftiest part of the easternflank of Kinchinjunga as possible.

For this expedition (which occupied three months), all thearrangements were undertaken for me by Dr. Campbell, who afforded meevery facility which in his government position he could command,besides personally superintending the equipment and provisioning ofmy party. Taking horses or loaded animals of any kind was notexpedient: the whole journey was to be performed on foot, andeverything carried on men's backs. As we were to march through whollyunexplored countries, where food was only procurable at uncertainintervals, it was necessary to engage a large body of porters, someof whom should carry bags of rice for the coolies and themselves too.The difficulty of selecting these carriers, of whom thirty wererequired, was very great. The Lepchas, the best and most tractable,and over whom Dr. Campbell had the most direct influence, dislikedemployment out of Sikkim, especially in so warlike a country asNepal: and they were besides thought unfit for the snowy regions.The Nepalese, of whom there were many residing as British subjects inDorjiling, were mostly run-aways from their own country, and afraidof being claimed, should they return to it, by the lords of the soil.To employ Limboos, Moormis, Hindoos, or other natives of lowelevations, was out of the question; and no course appeared advisablebut to engage some of the Bhotan run-aways domiciled in Dorjiling,who are accustomed to travel at all elevations, and fear nothing buta return to the country which they have abandoned as slaves, or asculprits: they are immensely powerful, and though intractable to thelast degree, are generally glad to work and behave well for money.The choice, as will hereafter be seen, was unfortunate, though at thetime unanimously approved.

My party mustered fifty-six persons. These consisted of myself, andone personal servant, a Portuguese half-caste, who undertook alloffices, and spared me the usual train of Hindoo and Mahometanservants. My tent and equipments (for which I was greatly indebted toMr. Hodgson), instruments, bed, box of clothes, books and papers,required a man for each. Seven more carried my papers for dryingplants, and other scientific stores. The Nepalese guard had twocoolies of their own. My interpreter, the coolie Sirdar (or headman),and my chief plant collector (a Lepcha), had a man each.Mr. Hodgson's bird and animal shooter, collector, and stuffer, withtheir ammunition and indispensables, had four more; there werebesides, three Lepcha lads to climb trees and change theplant-papers, who had long been in my service in that capacity; andthe party was completed by fourteen Bhotan coolies laden with food,consisting chiefly of rice with ghee, oil, capsic*ms, salt,and flour.

I carried myself a small barometer, a large knife and digger forplants, note-book, telescope, compass, and other instruments; whilsttwo or three Lepcha lads who accompanied me as satellites, carried abotanising box, thermometers, sextant and artificial horizon,measuring-tape, azimuth compass and stand, geological hammer, bottlesand boxes for insects, sketch-book, etc., arranged in compartments ofstrong canvass bags. The Nepal officer (of the rank of serjeant, Ibelieve) always kept near me with one of his men, renderinginnumerable little services. Other sepoys were distributed amongstthe remainder of the party; one went ahead to prepare camping-ground,and one brought up the rear.

The course generally pursued by Himalayan travellers is to marchearly in the morning, and arrive at the camping-ground before or bynoon, breakfasting before starting, or en route. I never followedthis plan, because it sacrificed the mornings, which were otherwiseprofitably spent in collecting about camp; whereas, if I set offearly, I was generally too tired with the day's march to employ inany active pursuit the rest of the daylight, which in November onlylasted till 6 p.m. The men breakfasted early in the morning, Isomewhat later, and all had started by 10 a.m., arriving between4 and 6 p.m. at the next camping-ground. My tent was formed ofblankets, spread over cross pieces of wood and a ridge-pole,enclosing an area of 6 to 8 feet by 4 to 6 feet. The bedstead, table,and chair were always made by my Lepchas, as described in the Tongloexcursion. The evenings I employed in writing up notes and journals,plotting maps, and ticketing the plants collected during theday's march.

I left Dorjiling at noon, on the 27th October, accompanied by Dr.Campbell, who saw me fairly off, the coolies having preceded me.Our direct route would have been over Tonglo, but the threats of theSikkim authorities rendered it advisable to make for Nepal at once;we therefore kept west along the Goong ridge, a western prolongationof Sinchul.

On overtaking the coolies, I proceeded for six or seven miles along azig-zag road, at about 7,500 feet elevation, through dense forests,and halted at a little hut within sight of Dorjiling. Rain and mistcame on at nightfall, and though several parties of my servantsarrived, none of the Bhotan coolies made their appearance, and Ispent the night without food or bed, the weather being much too foggyand dark to send back to meet the missing men. They joined me late onthe following day, complaining unreasonably of their loads, andwithout their Sirdar, who, after starting his crew, had returned totake leave of his wife and family. On the following day he appeared,and after due admonishment we started, but four miles further on wereagain obliged to halt for the Bhotan coolies, who were equally deafto threats and entreaties. As they did not come up till dusk, we wereobliged to encamp here, (alt. 7,400 feet) at the common source of theBalasun, which flows to the plains, and the Little Rungeet, whosecourse is north.

The contrast between the conduct of the Bhotan men and that of theLepchas and Nepalese was so marked, that I seriously debated in myown mind the propriety of sending the former back to Dorjiling, butyielded to the remonstrances of their Sirdar and the Nepal guard, whor*presented the great difficulty we should have in replacing them,and above all, the loss of time, at this season a matter of greatimportance. We accordingly started again the following morning, andstill keeping in a western direction, crossed the posts in the forestdividing Sikkim from Nepal, and descended into the Myong valley ofthe latter country, through which flows the river of that name, atributary of the Tambur. The Myong valley is remarkably fine: it runssouth-west from Tonglo, and its open character and general fertilitycontrast strongly with the bareness of the lower mountain spurs whichflank it, and with the dense, gloomy, steep, and forest-clad gorgesof Sikkim. At its lower end, about twenty miles from the frontier, isthe military fort of Ilam, a celebrated stockaded post and cantonmentof the Ghorkas: its position is marked by a conspicuous conical hill.The inhabitants are chiefly Brahmins, but there are also someMoormis, and a few Lepchas who escaped from Sikkim during the generalmassacre in 1825. Among these is a man who had formerly muchinfluence in Sikkim; he still retains his title of Kazee,* [ThisMahometan title, by which the officers of state are known in Sikkim,is there generally pronounced Kajee.] and has had large landsassigned to him by the Nepalese Government: he sent the usual presentof a kid, fowls, and eggs, and begged me to express to Dr. Campbellhis desire to return to his native country, and settle at Dorjiling.

The scenery of this valley is the most beautiful I know of in thelower Himalaya, and the Cheer Pine (P. longifolia) is abundant,cresting the hills; which are loosely clothed with clumps of oaks andother trees, bamboos, and bracken (Pteris). The slopes are coveredwith red clay, and separate little ravines luxuriantly clothed withtropical vegetation, amongst which flow pebbly streams of transparentcool water. The villages, which are merely scattered collections ofhuts, are surrounded with fields of rice, buckwheat, and Indian corn,which latter the natives were now storing in little granaries,mounted on four posts, men, women, and children being all equallybusy. The quantity of gigantic nettles (Urtica heterophylla) on theskirts of these maize fields is quite wonderful: their long whitestings look most formidable, but though they sting virulently, thepain only lasts half an hour or so. These, however, with leeches,mosquitos, peepsas, and ticks, sometimes keep the traveller in aconstant state of irritation.

However civilised the Hindoo may be in comparison with the Lepcha, hepresents a far less attractive picture to the casual observer; hecomes to your camping-ground, sits down, and stares with all hismight, but offers no assistance; if he bring a present at all, heexpects a return on the spot, and goes on begging till satisfied.I was amused by the cool way in which my Ghorka guard treated thevillage lads, when they wanted help in my service, taking them by theshoulder, pulling out their knives for them, placing them in theirbands, and setting them to cut down a tree, or to chop firewood,which they seldom refused to do, when a little such douce violencewas applied.

My object being to reach the Tambur, north of the great east and westmountain ridge of Sakkiazung, without crossing the innumerablefeeders of the Myong and their dividing spurs, we ascended the northflank of the valley to a long spur from Tonglo, intending to followwinding ridges of that mountain to the sources of the Pemmi at thePhulloot mountains, and thence descend.

On the 3rd November I encamped on the flank of Tonglo (called Nankiin Nepal), at 9,300 feet, about 700 feet below the western summit,which is rocky, and connected by a long flat ridge with that which Ihad visited in the previous May. The Bhotan coolies behaved worsethan ever; their conduct being in all respects typical of theturbulent, mulish race to which they belong. They had been plunderingmy provisions as they went along, and neither their Sirdar nor theGhorka soldiers had the smallest authority over them. I had hiredsome Ghorka coolies to assist and eventually to replace them, and hadmade up my mind to send back the worst from the more populous banksof the Tambur, when I was relieved by their making off of their ownaccord. The dilemma was however awkward, as it was impossible toprocure men on the top of a mountain 10,000 feet high, or to proceedtowards Phulloot. No course remained but to send to Dorjiling forothers, or to return to the Myong valley, and take a more circuitousroute over the west end of Sakkiazung, which led through villagesfrom which I could procure coolies day by day. I preferred the latterplan, and sent one of the soldiers to the nearest village forassistance to bring the loads down, halting a day for that purpose.

From the summit of Tonglo I enjoyed the view I had so long desired ofthe Snowy Himalaya, from north-east to north-west; Sikkim being onthe right, Nepal on the left, and the plains of India to thesouthward; and I procured a set of compass bearings, of the greatestuse in mapping the country. In the early morning the transparency ofthe atmosphere renders this view one of astonishing grandeur.Kinchinjunga bore nearly due north, a dazzling mass of snowy peaks,intersected by blue glaciers, which gleamed in the slanting rays ofthe rising sun, like aquamarines set in frosted silver. From this thesweep of snowed mountains to the eastward was almost continuous asfar as Chola (bearing east-north-east), following a curve of 150miles, and enclosing the whole of the northern part of Sikkim, whichappeared a billowy mass of forest-clad mountains. On the north-easthorizon rose the Donkia mountain (23,176 feet), and Chumulari(23,929). Though both were much more distant than the snowy ranges,being respectively eighty and ninety miles off, they raised theirgigantic heads above, seeming what they really were, by far theloftiest peaks next to Kinchinjunga; and the perspective of snow isso deceptive, that though 40 to 60 miles beyond, they appeared asthough almost in the same line with the ridges they overtopped.Of these mountains, Chumulari presents many attractions to thegeographer, from its long disputed position, its sacred character,and the interest attached to it since Turner's mission to Tibet in1783. It was seen and recognised by Dr. Campbell, and measured byColonel Waugh, from Sinchul, and also from Tonglo, and was aconspicuous object in my subsequent journey to Tibet. Beyond Junnoo,one of the western peaks of Kinchinjunga, there was no continuoussnowy chain; the Himalaya seemed suddenly to decline into black andrugged peaks, till in the far north-west it rose again in a whitemountain mass of stupendous elevation at 80 miles distance, called,by my Nepal people, "Tsungau."* [This is probably the easternmost andloftiest peak seen from Katmandoo, distant 78 miles, and estimatedelevation 20,117 feet by Col. Crawford's observations. See"Hamilton's Nepal," p. 346, and plate 1.] From the bearings I took ofit from several positions, it is in about lat. 27 degrees 49 minutesand long. 86 degrees 24 minutes, and is probably on the west flank ofthe Arun valley and river, which latter, in its course from Tibet tothe plains of India, receives the waters from the west flank ofKinchinjunga, and from the east flank of the mountain in question.It is perhaps one which has been seen and measured from the Tirhootdistrict by some of Colonel Waugh's party, and which has beenreported to be upwards of 28,000 feet in elevation; and it is theonly mountain of the first class in magnitude between Gosainthan(north-east of Katmandoo) and Kinchinjunga.

To the west, the black ridge of Sakkiazung, bristling with pines,(Abies Webbiana) cut off the view of Nepal; but south-west, theMyong valley could be traced to its junction with the Tambur aboutthirty miles off: beyond which to the south-west and south, lowhills belonging to the outer ranges of Nepal rose on the distanthorizon, seventy or eighty miles off; and of these the mostconspicuous were the Mahavarati which skirt the Nepal Terai. Southand south-east, Sinchul and the Goong range of Sikkim intercepted theview of the plains of India, of which I had a distant peep to thesouth-west only.

The west top of Tonglo is very open and grassy, with occasionalmasses of gneiss of enormous size, but probably not in situ.The whole of this flank, and for 1000 feet down the spur to thesouth-west, had been cleared by fire for pasturage, and flocks ofblack-faced sheep were grazing. During my stay on the mountain,except in the early morning, the weather was bleak, gloomy, and verycold, with a high south-west wind. The mean temperature was 41degrees, extremes 53.2/26 degrees: the nights were very clear, withsharp hoar-frost; the radiating thermometer sank to 21 degrees, thetemperature at 3.5 feet depth was 51.5 degrees.

A few of the Bhotan coolies having voluntarily returned, I leftTonglo on the 5th, and descended its west flank to the Mai, a feederof the Myong. The descent was as abrupt as that on the east face, butthrough less dense forest; the Sikkim side (that facing the east)being much the dampest. I encamped at dark by a small village,(Jummanoo) at 4,360 feet, having descended 5000 feet in five hours.Hence we marched eastward to the village of Sakkiazung, which wereached on the third day, crossing en route several spurs 4000 to6000 feet high, from the same ridge, and as many rivers, which allfall into the Myong, and whose beds are elevated from 2,500 to3000 feet.

Though rich and fertile, the country is scantily populated, andcoolies were procured with difficulty: I therefore sent back toDorjiling all but absolute indispensables, and on the 9th of Novemberstarted up the ridge in a northerly direction, taking the road fromIlam to Wallanchoon. The ascent was gradual, through a fine forest,full of horn-bills (Buceros), a bird resembling the Toucan("Dhunass" Lepcha); at 7000 feet an oak (Quercus semecarpifolia),"Khasrou" of the Nepalese, commences, a tree which is common as farwest as Kashmir, but which I never found in Sikkim, though it appearsagain in Bhotan.* [This oak ascends in the N.W. Himalaya to thehighest limit of forest (12,000 feet). No oak in Sikkim attains agreater elevation than 10,000.] It forms a broad-headed tree, and hasa very handsome appearance; its favourite locality is on grassy openshoulders of the mountains. It was accompanied by an Astragalus,Geranium, and several other plants of the drier interior parts ofSikkim. Water is very scarce along the ridge; we walked fully eightmiles without finding any, and were at length obliged to encamp at8,350 feet by the only spring that we should be able to reach.With respect to drought, this ridge differs materially from Sikkim,where water abounds at all elevations; and the cause is obviously itsposition to the westward of the great ridge of Singalelah (includingTonglo) by which the S.W. currents are drained of their moisture.Here again, the east flank was much the dampest and mostluxuriantly wooded.

While my men encamped on a very narrow ridge, I ascended a rockysummit, composed of great blocks of gneiss, from which I obtained asuperb view to the westward. Immediately below a fearfully suddendescent, ran the Daomy River, bounded on the opposite side by anotherparallel ridge of Sakkiazung, enclosing, with that on which I stood,a gulf from 6000 to 7000 feet deep, of wooded ridges, which, as itwere, radiated outwards as they ascended upwards in rocky spurs tothe pine-clad peaks around. To the south-west, in the extremedistance, were the boundless plains of India, upwards of 100 milesoff, with the Cosi meandering through them like a silver thread.

The firmament appeared of a pale steel blue, and a broad low archspanned the horizon, bounded by a line of little fleecy clouds(moutons); below this the sky was of a golden yellow, while insuccessively deeper strata, many belts or ribbons of vapour appearedto press upon the plains, the lowest of which was of a dark leadenhue, the upper more purple, and vanishing into the pale yellow above.Though well defined, there was no abrupt division between the belts,and the lowest mingled imperceptibly with the hazy horizon.Gradually the golden lines grew dim, and the blues and purples gaineddepth of colour; till the sun set behind the dark-blue peakedmountains in a flood of crimson and purple, sending broad beams ofgrey shade and purple light up to the zenith, and all around.As evening advanced, a sudden chill succeeded, and mists rapidlyformed immediately below me in little isolated clouds, whichcoalesced and spread out like a heaving and rolling sea, leavingnothing above their surface but the ridges and spurs of the adjacentmountains. These rose like capes, promontories, and islands, of thedarkest leaden hue, bristling with pines, and advancing boldly intothe snowy white ocean, or starting from its bed in the strongestrelief. As darkness came on, and the stars arose, a light foggathered round me, and I quitted with reluctance one of the mostimpressive and magic scenes I ever beheld.

Returning to my tent, I was interested in observing how well myfollowers had accommodated themselves to their narrow circ*mstances.Their fires gleamed everywhere amongst the trees, and the people,broken up into groups of five, presented an interesting picture ofnative, savage, and half-civilised life. I wandered amongst them inthe darkness, and watched unseen their operations; some were cooking,with their rude bronzed faces lighted up by the ruddy glow, as theypeered into the pot, stirring the boiling rice with one hand, whilewith the other they held back their long tangled hair. Others werebringing water from the spring below, some gathering sprigs offragrant Artemisia and other shrubs to form couches—some loppingbranches of larger trees to screen them from nocturnal radiation;their only protection from the dew being such branches stuck in theground, and slanting over their procumbent forms. The Bhotanese wererude and boisterous in their pursuits, constantly complaining to theSirdars, and wrangling over their meals. The Ghorkas were sprightly,combing their raven hair, telling interminably long stories, of whichmoney was the burthen, or singing Hindoo songs through their noses inchorus; and being neater and better dressed, and having a servant tocook their food, they seemed quite the gentlemen of the party.Still the Lepcha was the most attractive, the least restrained, andthe most natural in all his actions, the simplest in his wants andappliances, with a bamboo as his water-jug, an earthen-pot as hiskettle, and all manner of herbs collected during the day's march toflavour his food.

My tent was made of a blanket thrown over the limb of a tree; to thisothers were attached, and the whole was supported on a frame like ahouse. One half was occupied by my bedstead, beneath which was stowedmy box of clothes, while my books and writing materials were placedunder the table. The barometer hung in the most out-of-the-waycorner, and my other instruments all around. A small candle wasburning in a glass shade, to keep the draught and insects from thelight, and I had the comfort of seeing the knife, fork, and spoonlaid on a white napkin, as I entered my snug little house, and flungmyself on the elastic couch to ruminate on the proceedings of theday, and speculate on those of the morrow, while waiting for my meal,which usually consisted of stewed meat and rice, with biscuits andtea. My thermometers (wet and dry bulb, and minimum) hung under atemporary canopy made of thickly plaited bamboo and leaves close tothe tent, and the cooking was performed by my servant under a tree.

After dinner my occupations were to ticket and put away the plantscollected during the day, write up journals, plot maps, and takeobservations till 10 p.m. As soon as I was in bed, one of the Nepalsoldiers was accustomed to enter, spread his blanket on the ground,and sleep there as my guard. In the morning the collectors were setto change the plant-papers, while I explored the neighbourhood, andhaving taken observations and breakfasted, we were ready to start at10 a.m.

Following the same ridge, after a few miles of ascent over muchbroken gneiss rock, the Ghorkas led me aside to the top of a knoll,9,300 feet high, covered with stunted bushes, and commanding asplendid view to the west, of the broad, low, well cultivated valleyof the Tambur, and the extensive town of Dunkotah on its banks, abouttwenty-five miles off; the capital of this part of Nepal, and famousfor its manufactory of paper from the bark of the Daphne. Hence tooI gained a fine view of the plains of India, including the course ofthe Cosi river, which, receiving the Arun and Tambur, debouches intothe Ganges opposite Colgongl (see Chapter IV).

A little further on we crossed the main ridge of Sakkiazung, a longflexuous chain stretching for miles to the westward from Phulloot onSingalelah, and forming the most elevated and conspicuous transverserange in this part of Nepal: its streams flow south to the Myong, andnorth to feeders of the Tambur. Silver firs (Abies Webbiana) arefound on all the summits; but to my regret none occurred in our path,which led just below their limit (10,000 feet), on the southernHimalayan ranges. There were, however, a few yews, exactly like theEnglish. The view that opened on cresting this range was againmagnificent, of Kinchinjunga, the western snows of Nepal, and thevalley of the Tambur winding amongst wooded and cultivated hills to along line of black-peaked, rugged mountains, sparingly snowed, whichintervene between Kinchinjunga and the great Nepal mountain beforementioned. The extremely varied colouring on the infinite number ofhill-slopes that everywhere intersected the Tambur valley was verypleasing. For fully forty miles to the northward there were no loftyforest-clad mountains, nor any apparently above 4000 to 5000 feet:villages and hamlets appeared everywhere, with crops of goldenmustard and purple buckwheat in full flower; yellow rice and maize,green hemp, pulse, radishes, and barley, and brown millet. Here andthere deep groves of oranges, the broad-leafed banana, andsugar-cane, skirted the bottoms of the valleys, through which thestreams were occasionally seen, rushing in white foam over theirrocky beds. It was a goodly sight to one who had for his onlystandard of comparison the view from Sinchul, of the gloomyforest-clad ranges of 6000 to 10,000 feet, that intervene betweenthat mountain and the snowy girdle of Sikkim; though I questionwhether a traveller from more favoured climes would see more in this,than a thinly inhabited country, with irregular patches of poorcultivation, a vast amount of ragged forest on low hills of ratheruniform height and contour, relieved by a dismal back-ground offrowning black mountains, sprinkled with snow! Kinchinjunga was againthe most prominent object to the north-east, with its sister peaks ofKubra (24,005 feet), and Junnoo (25,312 feet). All these presentedbare cliff's for several thousand feet below their summits, composedof white rock with a faint pink tint:—on the other hand the loftyNepal mountain in the far west presented cliffs of black rocks. Fromthe summit two routes to the Tambur presented themselves; one, themain road, led west and south along the ridge, and then turned north,descending to the river; the other was shorter, leading abruptly downto the Pemmi river, and thence along its banks, west to the Tambur.I chose the latter.

The descent was very abrupt on the first day, from 9,500 feet to 5000feet, and on that following to the bed of the Pemmi, at 2000 feet;and the road was infamously bad, generally consisting of a narrow,winding, rocky path among tangled shrubs and large boulders,brambles, nettles, and thorny bushes, often in the bed of thetorrent, or crossing spurs covered with forest, round whose bases itflowed. A little cultivation was occasionally met with on the narrowflat pebbly terraces which fringed the stream, usually of rice, andsometimes of the small-leaved variety of hemp (Cannabis), grown asa narcotic.

The rocks above 5000 feet were gneiss; below this, cliffs of verymicaceous schist were met with, having a north-west strike, and beingoften vertical; the boulders again were always of gneiss. The streamsseemed rather to occupy faults, than to have eroded courses forthemselves; their beds were invariably rocky or pebbly, and thewaters white and muddy from the quantity of alumina. In one littlerocky dell the water gushed through a hole in a soft stratum in thegneiss; a trifling circ*mstance which was not lost upon the craftyBrahmins, who had cut a series of regular holes for the water,ornamented the rocks with red paint, and a row of little irontridents of Siva, and dedicated the whole to Mahadeo.

In some spots the vegetation was exceedingly fine, and several largetrees occurred: I measured a Toon (Cedrela) thirty feet in girth atfive feet above the ground. The skirts of the forest were adornedwith numerous jungle flowers, rice crops, blue Acanthaceae andPavetta, wild cherry-trees covered with scarlet blossoms, and treesof the purple and lilac Bauhinia; while Thunbergia, Convolvulus,and other climbers, hung in graceful festoons from the boughs, and onthe dry micaceous rocks the Luculia gratissima, one of our commonhot-house ornaments, grew in profusion, its gorgeous heads ofblossoms scenting the air.

At the junction of the Pemmi and Khawa rivers, there are high rocksof mica-slate, and broad river-terraces of stratified sand andpebbles, apparently alternating with deposits of shingle. On thishot, open expanse, elevated 2250 feet, appeared many trees and plantsof the Terai and plains, as pomegranate, peepul, and sal; withextensive fields of cotton, indigo, and irrigated rice.

We followed the north bank of the Khawa, which runs westerly througha gorge, between high cliffs of chlorite, containing thick beds ofstratified quartz. At the angles of the river broad terraces areformed, fifteen to thirty feet above its bed, similar to those justmentioned, and planted with rows of Acacia Serissa, or laid out inrice fields, or sugar plantations.

I reached the east bank of the Tambur, on the 13th of November, atit* junction with the Khawa, in a deep gorge. It formed a grandstream, larger than the Teesta, of a pale, sea-green, muddy colour,and flowed rapidly with a strong ripple, but no foam; it rises sixfeet in the rains, but ice never descends nearly so low; its breadthwas sixty to eighty yards, its temperature 55 degrees to 58 degrees.The breadth of the foaming Khawa was twelve to fifteen yards, and itstemperature 56.5 degrees. The surrounding vegetation was entirelytropical, consisting of scrubby sal trees, acacia, Grislea, Emblica,Hibiscus, etc.; the elevation being but 1300 feet, though the spotwas twenty-five miles in a straight line from the plains. I camped atthe fork of the rivers, on a fine terrace fifty feet above the water,about seventy yards long, and one hundred broad, quite flat-topped,and composed of shingle, gravel, etc., with enormous boulders ofgneiss, quartz, and hornstone, much water-worn; it was girt byanother broken terrace, twelve feet or so above the water, andcovered with long grass and bushes.

The main road from Ilam to Wallanchoon, which I quitted onSakkiazung, descends steeply on the opposite bank of the river, whichI crossed in a canoe formed of a hollow trunk (of Toon), thirty feetlong. There is considerable traffic along this road; and I wasvisited by numbers of natives, all Hindoos, who coolly squattedbefore my tent-door, and stared with their large black, vacant,lustrous eyes: they appear singularly indolent, and great beggars.

The land seems highly favoured by nature, and the population, thoughso scattered, is in reality considerable, the varied elevation givinga large surface; but the natives care for no more than will satisfytheir immediate wants. The river swarms with fish, but they are toolazy to catch them, and they have seldom anything better to give orsell than sticks of sugar-cane, which when peeled form a refreshingmorsel in these scorching marches. They have few and poor oranges,citrons, and lemons, very bad plantains, and but little else;—eggs,fowls, and milk are all scarce. Horned cattle are of course neverkilled by Hindoos, and it was but seldom that I could replenish mylarder with a kid. Potatos are unknown, but my Sepoys often broughtme large coarse radishes and legumes.

From the junction of the rivers the road led up the Tambur to MywaGuola; about sixteen miles by the river, but fully thirty-five, as wewound, ascended, and descended, during three days' marches. We wereferried across the stream in a canoe much ruder than that of the NewZealander. I watched my party crossing by boat-loads of fifteen each;the Bhotan men hung little scraps of rags on the bushes beforeembarking, the votive offerings of a Booddhist throughout centralAsia;—the Lepcha, less civilised, scooped up a little water in thepalm of his hand, and scattered it about, invoking the river god ofhis simple creed.

We always encamped upon gravelly terraces a few feet above the river,which flows in a deep gorge; its banks are very steep for 600 feetabove the stream, though the mountains which flank it do not exceed4000 to 5000 feet: this is a constant phenomenon in the Himalaya, andthe roads, when low and within a few hundred feet of the river, arein consequence excessively steep and difficult; it would have beenimpossible to have taken ponies along that we followed, which wasoften not a foot broad, running along very steep cliffs, at a dizzyheight above the river, and engineered with much trouble andingenuity: often the bank was abandoned altogether, and we ascendedseveral thousand feet to descend again. Owing to the steepness ofthese banks, and the reflected heat, the valley, even at this season,was excessively hot and close during the day, even when thetemperature was below 70 degrees, and tempered by a brisk breezewhich rushes upwards from sunrise to sunset. The sun at this seasondoes not, in many places, reach the bottom of these valleys until 10a.m., and is off again by 3 p.m.; and the radiation to a clear sky isso powerful that dew frequently forms in the shade, throughout theday, and it is common at 10 a.m. to find the thermometer sink from 70degrees in a sheltered spot, dried by the sun, to 40 degrees in theshade close by, where the sun has not yet penetrated. Snow neverfalls.

The rocks throughout this part of the river-course are mica-schists(strike north-west, dip south-west 70 degrees, but very variable ininclination and direction); they are dry and grassy, and thevegetation wholly tropical, as is the entomology, which consistschiefly of large butterflies, Mantis and Diptera. Snowy mountainsare rarely seen, and the beauty of the scenery is confined to thewooded banks of the main stream, which flows at an averageinclination of fifty feet to the mile. Otters are found in thestream, and my party shot two, but could not procure them.

Illustration—TAMBUR RIVER & VALLEY (EAST NEPAL) FROM CHINTAM.
(ELEVATION 5000 FT.) LOOKING NORTH.

In one place the road ascended for 2000 feet above the river, to thevillage of Chingtam, situated on a lofty spur of the west bank,whence I obtained a grand view of the upper course of the river,flowing in a tremendous chasm, flanked by well-cultivated hills, andemerging fifteen miles to the northward, from black mountains ofsavage grandeur, whose rugged, precipitous faces were streaked withsnow, and the tops of the lower ones crowned with thetabular-branched silver-fir, contrasting strongly with the tropicalluxuriance around. Chingtam is an extensive village, covering an areaof two miles, and surrounded with abundant cultivation; the houses,which are built in clusters, are of wood, or wattle and mud, withgrass thatch. The villagers, though an indolent, staring race, arequiet and respectable; the men are handsome, the women, though lessso, often good-looking. They have fine cattle, and excellent crops.

Immediately above Chingtam, the Tambur is joined by a large affluentfrom the west, the Mywa, which is crossed by an excellent ironbridge, formed of loops hanging from two parallel chains, along whichis laid a plank of sal timber. Passing through the village, we campedon a broad terrace, from sixty to seventy feet above the junction ofthe rivers, whose beds are 2100 feet above the sea.

Mywa Guola (or bazaar) is a large village and mart, frequented byNepalese and Tibetans, who bring salt, wool, gold, musk, andblankets, to exchange for rice, coral, and other commodities; and acustom-house officer is stationed there, with a few soldiers.The houses are of wood, and well built: the public ones are large,with verandahs, and galleries of carved wood; the workmanship is ofChinese character, and inferior to that of Katmandoo; but in the samestyle, and quite unlike anything I had previously seen.

The river-terrace is in all respects similar to that at the junctionof the Tambur and Khawa, but very extensive: the stones it containedwere of all sizes, from a nut to huge boulders upwards of fifteenfeet long, of which many strewed the surface, while others were inthe bed of the river: all were of gneiss, quartz, and granite, andhad doubtless been transported from great elevations, as the rocksin situ—both here and for several thousand feet higher up theriver—were micaceous schists, dipping in various directions, and atall angles, with, however, a general strike to the north-west.

I was here overtaken by a messenger with letters from Dr. Campbell,announcing that the Sikkim Rajah had disavowed the refusal to theGovernor-General's letter, and authorising me to return through anypart of Sikkim I thought proper. The bearer was a Lepcha attached tothe court: his dress was that of a superior person, being a scarletjacket over a white cotton dress, the breadth of the blue stripes ofwhich generally denotes wealth; he was accompanied by a sort ofattache, who wore a magnificent pearl and gold ear-ring, and carriedhis master's bow, as well as a basket on his back; while an attendantcoolie bore their utensils and food. Meepo, or Teshoo (in Tibetan,Mr.), Meepo, as he was usually called, soon attached himself to me,and proved an active, useful, and intelligent companion, guide, andoften collector, during many months afterwards.

The vegetation round Mywa Guola is still thoroughly tropical: thebanyan is planted, and thrives tolerably, the heat being great duringthe day. Like the whole of the Tambur valley below 4000 feet, andespecially on these flats, the climate is very malarious before andafter the rains; and I was repeatedly applied to by natives sufferingunder attacks of fever. During the two days I halted, the meantemperature was 60 degrees (extremes, 80/41 degrees), that of theTambur, 53 degrees, and of the Mywa, 56 degrees; each varying a fewdegrees (the smaller stream the most) between sunrise and 4 p.m.: thesunk thermometer was 72 degrees.

As we should not easily be able to procure food further on, I laid ina full stock here, and distributed blankets, etc., sufficient fortemporary use for all the people, dividing them into groups or messes.

CHAPTER IX.

Leave Mywa — Suspension bridge — Landslips — Vegetation — Slope
of riverbed — Bees' nests — Glacial phenomena — Tibetans,
clothing, ornaments, amulets, salutation, children, dogs — Last
Limboo village, Taptiatok — Beautiful scenery — Tibet village of
Lelyp — Opuntia — Edgeworthia — Crab-apple — Chameleon and
porcupine — Praying machine — Abies Brunoniana — European plants
— Grand scenery — Arrive at Wallanchoon — Scenery around — Trees
— Tibet houses — Manis and Mendongs — Tibet household — Food —
Tea-soup — Hospitality — Yaks and Zobo, uses and habits of —
Bhoteeas — Yak-hair tents — Guobah of Walloong — Jhatamansi —
Obstacles to proceeding — Climate and weather — Proceed —
Rhododendrons, etc. — Lichens — Poa annua and Shepherd's purse —
Tibet camp — Tuquoroma — Scenery of pass — Glaciers and snow —
Summit — Plants, woolly, etc.

On the 18th November, we left Mywa Guola, and continued up the riverto the village of Wallanchoon or Walloong, which was reached in sixmarches. The snowy peak of Junnoo (alt. 25,312 feet.) forms amagnificent feature from this point, seen up the narrow gorge of theriver, bearing N.N.E. about thirty miles. I crossed the Mewa, anaffluent from the north, by another excellent suspension bridge.In these bridges, the principal chains are clamped to rocks on eithershore, and the suspended loops occur at intervals of eight to tenfeet; the single sal-plank laid on these loops swings terrifically,and the handrails not being four feet high, the sense of insecurityis very great.

The Wallanchoon road follows the west bank, but the bridge abovehaving been carried away, we crossed by a plank, and proceeded alongvery steep banks of decomposed chlorite schist, much contorted, andvery soapy, affording an insecure footing, especially where greatlandslips had occurred, which were numerous, exposing acres of areddish and white soil of felspathic clay, sloping at an angle of 30degrees. Where the angle was less than 15 degrees, rice wascultivated, and partially irrigated. The lateral streams (of a muddyopal green) had cut beds 200 feet deep in the soft earth, and werevery troublesome to cross, from the crumbling cliffs on either side,and their broad swampy channels.

Five or six miles above Mywa, the valley contracts much, and theTambur (whose bed is elevated about 3000 feet) becomes a turbulentriver, shooting along its course with immense velocity, torn intofoam as it lashes the spurs of rock that flank it, and the enormousboulders with which its bed is strewn.* [In some places torrents ofstone were carried down by landslips, obstructing the rivers; when inthe beds of streams, they were often cemented by felspathic clay intoa hard breccia of angular quartz, gneiss, and felspar nodules.] Fromthis elevation to 9000 feet, its sinuous track extends about thirtymiles, which gives the mean fall of 200 feet to the mile, quadrupleof what it is for the lower part of its course. So long as its bed isbelow 5000 feet, a tropical vegetation prevails in the gorge, andalong the terraces, consisting of tall bamboo, Bauhinia, Acacia,Melastoma, etc.; but the steep mountain sides above are either bareand grassy, or cliffs with scattered shrubs and trees, and theirsummits are of splintered slaty gneiss, bristling with pines: thosefaces exposed to the south and east are invariably the driest andmost grassy; while the opposite are well wooded. Rhododendronarboreum becomes plentiful at 5000 to 6000 feet, forming a largetree on dry clayey slopes; it is accompanied by Indigofera,Andromeda, Spiraea, shrubby Compositae, and very many plantsabsent at similar elevations on the wet outer Dorjiling ranges.

In the contracted parts of the valley, the mountains often dip to theriver-bed, in precipices of gneiss, under the ledges of which wildbees build pendulous nests, looking like huge bats suspended by theirwings; they are two or three feet long, and as broad at the top,whence they taper downwards: the honey is much sought for, except inspring, when it is said to be poisoned by Rhododendron flowers, justas that, eaten by the soldiers in the retreat of the Ten Thousand,was by the flowers of the R. ponticum.

Above these gorges are enormous accumulations of rocks, especially atthe confluence of lateral valleys, where they rest upon little flats,like the river-terraces of Mywa, but wholly formed of angularshingle, flanked with beds of river-formed gravel: some of theseboulders were thirty or forty yards across, and split as if they hadfallen from a height; the path passing between the fragments.* [Thesplit fragments I was wholly unable to account for, till my attentionwas directed by Mr. Darwin to the observations of Charpentier andAgassiz, who refer similar ones met with in the Alps, to rocks whichhave fallen through crevasses in glaciers.—See "Darwin on Glaciersand Transported Boulders in North Wales." London, "Phil. Mag." xxi.p. 180.] At first I imagined that they had been precipitated from themountains around; and I referred the shingle to land-shoots, whichduring the rains descend several thousand feet in devastatingavalanches, damming up the rivers, and destroying houses, cattle, andcultivation; but though I still refer the materials of many suchterraces to this cause, I consider those at the mouths of valleys tobe due to ancient glacial action, especially when laden with suchenormous blocks as are probably ice-transported.

A change in the population accompanies that in the natural featuresof the country, Tibetans replacing the Limboos and Khass-tribes ofNepal, who inhabit the lower region. We daily passed parties of tenor a dozen Tibetans, on their way to Mywa Guola, laden with salt;several families of these wild, black, and uncouth-looking peoplegenerally travelling together. The men are middle-sized, often tall,very square-built and muscular; they have no beard, moustache, orwhiskers, the few hairs on their faces being carefully removed withtweezers. They are dressed in loose blanket robes, girt about thewaist with a leather belt, in which they place their iron or brasspipes, and from which they suspend their long knives, chopsticks,tobacco-pouch, tweezers, tinder-box, etc. The robe, boots, and capare grey, or striped with bright colours, and they wear skull-caps,and the hair plaited into a pig-tail.

The women are dressed in long flannel petticoats and spencer, overwhich is thrown a sleeveless, short, striped cloak, drawn round thewaist by a girdle of broad brass or silver links, to which hang theirknives, scissors, needlecases, etc., and with which they often straptheir children to their backs; the hair is plaited in two tails, andthe neck loaded with strings of coral and glass beads, and greatlumps of amber, glass, and agate. Both sexes wear silver rings andear-rings, set with turquoises, and square amulets upon their necksand arms, which are boxes of gold or silver, containing small idols,or the nail-parings, teeth, or other reliques of some sainted Lama,accompanied with musk, written prayers, and other charms. All aregood-humoured and amiable-looking people, very square and Mongolianin countenance, with broad mouths, high cheek-bones, narrow, upturnedeyes, broad, flat noses, and low foreheads. White is their naturalcolour, and rosy cheeks are common amongst the younger women andchildren, but all are begrimed with filth and smoke; added to which,they become so weather-worn from exposure to the most rigorousclimate in the world, that their natural hues are rarely to berecognised. Their customary mode of saluting one another is to holdout the tongue, grin, nod, and scratch their ear; but this methodentails so much ridicule in the low countries, that they do notpractise it to Nepalese or strangers; most of them when meeting me,on the contrary, raised their hands to their eyes, threw themselveson the ground, and kotowed most decorously, bumping their foreheadsthree times on the ground; even the women did this on severaloccasions. On rising, they begged for a bucksheesh, which I gave intobacco or snuff, of which they are immoderately fond. Both men andwomen constantly spin wool as they travel.

Illustration—TIBET MASTIFF.

These motley groups of Tibetans are singularly picturesque, from thevariety in their parti-coloured dresses, and their odd appearance.First comes a middle-aged man or woman, driving a little silky blackyak, grunting under his load of 260 lb. of salt, besides pots, pans,and kettles, stools, churn, and bamboo vessels, keeping up a constantrattle, and perhaps, buried amongst all, a rosy-cheeked and lippedbaby, sucking a lump of cheese-curd. The main body follow in dueorder, and you are soon entangled amidst sheep and goats, each withits two little bags of salt: beside these, stalks the huge, grave,bull-headed mastiff, loaded like the rest, his glorious bushy tailthrown over his back in a majestic sweep, and a thick collar ofscarlet wool round his neck and shoulders, setting off his long silkycoat to the best advantage; he is decidedly the noblest-looking ofthe party, especially if a fine and pure black one, for they areoften very ragged, dun-coloured, sorry beasts. He seems rather out ofplace, neither guarding nor keeping the party together, but he knowsthat neither yaks, sheep, nor goats, require his attention; all areperfectly tame, so he takes his share of work as salt-carrier by day,and watches by night as well. The children bring up the rear,laughing and chatting together; they, too, have their loads, even tothe youngest that can walk alone.

The last village of the Limboos, Taptiatok, is large, and occupies aremarkable amphitheatre, apparently a lake-bed, in the course of theTambur. After proceeding some way through a narrow gorge, along whichthe river foamed and roared, the sudden opening out of this broad,oval expanse, more than a mile long, was very striking: the mountainsrose bare and steep, the west flank terminating in shivered masses ofrock, while that on the right was more undulating, dry, and grassy:the surface was a flat gravel-bed, through which meandered therippling stream, fringed with alder. It was a beautiful spot, theclear, cool, murmuring river, with its rapids and shallows, forciblyreminding me of trout-streams in the highlands of Scotland.

Beyond Taptiatok we again crossed the river, and ascended over dry,grassy, or rocky spurs to Lelyp, the first Bhoteea village; it standson a hill fully 1000 feet above the river, and commands a splendidview up the Yalloong and Kambachen valleys, which open immediately tothe east, and appear as stupendous chasms in the mountains leading tothe perpetual snows of Kinchin-junga. There were about fifty housesin the village, of wood and thatch, neatly fenced in with wattle, theground between being carefully cultivated with radishes, buckwheat,wheat, and millet. I was surprised to find in one enclosure a finehealthy plant of Opuntia, in flower, at this latitude andelevation. A Lama, who is the head man of the place, came out togreet us, with his family and a whole troop of villagers; they werethe same class of people as I have elsewhere described as Cis-niveanTibetans, or Bhoteeas; none had ever before seen an Englishman, and Ifear they formed no flattering opinion from the specimen nowpresented to them, as they seemed infinitely amused at my appearance,and one jolly dame clapped her hands to her sides, and laughed at myspectacles, till the hills echoed.

Elaeagnus was common here, with Edgeworthia Gardneri,* [A plantallied to Daphne, from whose bark the Nepal paper is manufactured.It was named after the eminent Indian botanist, brother of the lateMiss Edgeworth.] a beautiful shrub, with globes of waxy,cowslip-coloured, deliciously scented flowers; also a wild apple,which bears a small austere fruit, like the Siberian crab. In the bedof the river rice was still cultivated by Limboos, and subtropicalplants continued. I saw, too, a chameleon and a porcupine, indicatingmuch warmth, and seeming quite foreign to the heart of thesestupendous mountains. From 6000 to 7000 feet, plants of the temperateregions blend with the tropical; such as rhododendron, oak, ivy,geranium, berberry, clematis, and shrubby Vaccinia, which all madetheir appearance at Loongtoong, another Bhoteea village. Here, too, Ifirst saw a praying machine, turned by water; it was enclosed in alittle wooden house, and consisted of an upright cylinder containinga prayer, and with the words, "Om mani padmi om," (Hail to him of theLotus and Jewel) painted on the circumference: it was placed over astream, and made to rotate on its axis by a spindle which passedthrough the floor of the building into the water, and was terminatedby a wheel.

Above this the road followed the west bank of the river; the latterwas a furious torrent, flowing through a gorge, fringed with a sombrevegetation, damp, and dripping with moisture, and covered with longUsnea and pendulous mosses. The road was very rocky and difficult,sometimes leading along bluff faces of cliffs by wooden steps andsingle rotten planks. At 8000 feet I met with pines, whose trunks Ihad seen strewing the river for some miles lower down: the first thatoccurred was Abies Brunoniana, a beautiful species, which forms astately blunt pyramid, with branches spreading like the cedar, butnot so stiff, and drooping gracefully on all sides. It is unknown onthe outer ranges of Sikkim, and in the interior occupies a belt about1000 feet lower than the silver fir (A. Webbiana). Many sub-alpineplants occur here, as Lecesteria, Thalictrum, rose, thistles,alder, birch, ferns, berberry, holly, anemone, strawberry, raspberry,_Gnaphalium, the alpine bamboo, and oaks. The scenery is as grand asany pictured by Salvator Rosa; a river roaring in sheets of foam,sombre woods, crags of gneiss, and tier upon tier of lofty mountainsflanked and crested with groves of black firs, terminating insnow-sprinkled rocky peaks.

Illustration—TAMBUR RIVER AT THE LOWER LIMIT OF PINES.

I now found the temperature getting rapidly cooler, both that of theair, which here at 8,066 feet fell to 32 degrees in the night, andthat of the river, which was always below 40 degrees. It was in thesenarrow valleys only, that I observed the return cold current rushingdown the river-courses during the nights, which were usuallybrilliant and very cold, with copious dew: so powerful, indeed, wasthe radiation, that the upper blanket of my bed became coated withmoisture, from the rapid abstraction of heat by the frozen tarpaulinof my tent.

The rivers here are often fringed by flats of shingle, on which growmagnificent yews and pines; some of the latter were from 120 to 150feet high, and had been blown down, owing to their scanty hold on thesoil. I measured one, Abies Brunoniana, twenty feet in girth.Many alpine rhododendrons occur at 9000 feet, with Astragalis andcreeping Tamarisk. Three miles below Wallanchoon the river forks,being met by the Yangma from the north-east; they are impetuoustorrents of about equal volume; the Tambur especially (here calledthe Walloong) is often broken into cascades, and cuts a deepgorge-like channel.

I arrived at the village of Wallanchoon on the 23rd of November.It is elevated 10,385 feet, and situated in a fine open part of theTambur valley, differing from any part lower down in all its naturalfeatures; being broad, with a rapid but not turbulent stream, verygrassy, and both the base and sides of the flanking mountains coveredwith luxuriant dense bushes of rhododendron, rose, berberry andjuniper. Red-legged crows, hawks, wild pigeons, and finches,abounded. There was but little snow on the mountains around, whichare bare and craggy above, but sloping below. Bleak and forbidding asthe situation of any Himalayan village at 10,000 feet elevation mustbe, that of Wallanchoon is rendered the more so from thecomparatively few trees; for though the silver fir and juniper areboth abundant higher up the valley, they have been felled here forbuilding materials, fuel, and export to Tibet. From the naked limbsand tall gaunt black trunks of those that remain, stringy masses ofbleached lichen (Usnea) many feet long, stream in the wind.Both men and women seemed fond of decorating their hair with wreathsof this lichen, which they dye yellow with leaves of Symplocos.

Illustration—WALLANCHOON VILLAGE.

The village is very large, and occupies a flat on the east bank ofthe river, covered with huge boulders: the ascent to it is extremelysteep, probably over an ancient moraine, though I did not recogniseit as such at the time. Cresting this, the valley at once opens, andI was almost startled with the sudden change from a gloomy gorge to abroad flat and a populous village of large and good painted woodenhouses, ornamented with hundreds of long poles and vertical flags,looking like the fleet of some foreign port; while a swarm ofgood-natured, intolerably dirty Tibetans, were kotowing to me asI advanced.

The houses crept up the base of the mountain, on the flank of whichwas a very large, long convent; two-storied, and painted scarlet,with a low black roof, and backed by a grove of dark junipers; whilethe hill-sides around were thickly studded with bushes of deep greenrhododendron, scarlet berberry, and withered yellow rose. The villagecontained about one hundred houses, irregularly crowded together,from twenty to forty feet high, and forty to eighty feet long; eachaccommodating several families. All were built of upright strongpine-planks, the interstices of which were filled with yak-dung; andthey sometimes rest on a low foundation wall: the door was generallyat the gable end; it opened with a latch and string; and turned on awooden pivot; the only window was a slit closed by a shutter; and theroofs were very low-pitched, covered with shingles kept down bystones. The paths were narrow and filthy; and the only publicbuildings besides the convents were Manis and Mendongs; of these theformer are square-roofed temples, containing rows of praying-cylinders placed close together, from four to six feet high,and gaudily painted; some are turned by hand, and others by water:the latter are walls ornamented with slabs of clay and mica slate,with "Om Mani Padmi om" well carved on them in two characters, andrepeated ad infinitum.

A Tibetan household is very slovenly; the family live higgledy-piggledy in two or more apartments, the largest of which has an openfire on the earth, or on a stone if the floor be of wood. The potsand tea-pot are earthen and copper; and these, with the bamboochurn for the brick tea, some wooden and metal spoons, bowls, andplatters, comprise all the kitchen utensils.

Every one carries in the breast of his robe a little wooden cup fordaily use; neatly turned from the knotted roots of maple (see ChapterV). The Tibetan chiefly consumes barley, wheat, or buckwheatmeal—the latter is confined to the poorer classes—with milk,butter, curd, and parched wheat; fowls, eggs, pork, and yak fleshwhen he can afford it, and radishes, a few potatos, legumes, andturnips in their short season. His drink is a sort of soup made frombrick tea, of which a handful of leaves is churned up with salt,butter, and soda, then boiled and transferred to the tea-pot, whenceit is poured scalding hot into each cup, which the good woman of thehouse keeps incessantly replenishing, and urging you to drain.Sometimes, but more rarely, the Tibetans make a drink by pouringboiling water over malt, as the Lepchas do over millet. A pipe ofyellow mild Chinese tobacco generally follows the meal; more often,however, their tobacco is brought from the plains of India, when itis of a very inferior description. The pipe carried in the girdle, isof brass or iron, often with an agate, amber, or bamboo mouth-piece.

Many herds of fine yaks were grazing about Wallanchoon: there were afew ponies, sheep, goats, fowls, and pigs, but very littlecultivation except turnips, radishes, and potatos. The yak is a verytame, domestic animal, often handsome, and a true bison inappearance; it is invaluable to these mountaineers from its strengthand hardiness, accomplishing, at a slow pace, twenty miles a day,bearing either two bags of salt or rice, or four to six planks ofpinewood slung in pairs along either flank. Their ears are generallypierced, and ornamented with a tuft of scarlet worsted; they havelarge and beautiful eyes, spreading horns, long silky black hair, andgrand bushy tails: black is their prevailing colour, but red, dun,parti-coloured, and white are common. In winter, the flocks grazebelow 8000 feet, on account of the great quantity of snow above thatheight; in summer they find pasturage as high as 17,000 feet,consisting of grass and small tufted Carices, on which they browsewith avidity.

The zobo, or cross between the yak and hill cow (much resembling theEnglish cow), is but rarely seen in these mountains, though common inthe North West Himalaya. The yak is used as a beast of burden; andmuch of the wealth of the people consists in its rich milk and curd,eaten either fresh or dried, or powdered into a kind of meal.The hair is spun into ropes, and woven into a covering for theirtents, which is quite pervious to wind and rain;* [The latter is,however, of little consequence in the dry climate of Tibet.] from thesame material are made the gauze shades for the eyes used in crossingsnowy passes. The bushy tail forms the well-known "chowry" orfly-flapper of the plains of India; the bones and dung serve forfuel. The female drops one calf in April; and the young yaks are veryfull of gambols, tearing up and down the steep grassy and rockyslopes: their flesh is delicious, much richer and more juicy thancommon veal; that of the old yak is sliced and dried in the sun,forming jerked meat, which is eaten raw, the scanty proportion of fatpreventing its becoming very rancid, so that I found it palatablefood: it is called schat-tcheu (dried meat). I never observed theyak to be annoyed by any insects; indeed at the elevation itinhabits, there are no large diptera, bots, or gadflies to infest it.It loves steep places, delighting to scramble among rocks, and to sunits black hide perched on the glacial boulders which strew theWallanchoon flat, and on which these beasts always sleep. Theiraverage value is from two to three pounds, but the price varies withthe season. In autumn, when her calf is killed for food, the motherwill yield no milk, unless the herdsman gives it the calf's foot tolick, or lays a stuffed skin before it, to fondle, which it does witheagerness, expressing its satisfaction by short grunts, exactly likethose of a pig, a sound which replaces the low uttered by ordinarycattle. The yak, though indifferent to ice and snow and to changes oftemperature, cannot endure hunger so long as the sheep, nor pick itsway so well upon stony ground. Neither can it bear damp heat, forwhich reason it will not live in summer below 7000 feet, where liverdisease carries it off after a very few years.* [Nevertheless, theyak seems to have survived the voyage to England. I find in Turner's"Tibet" (p. 189), that a bull sent by that traveller to Mr. Hastings,reached England alive, and after suffering from languor, so farrecovered its health and vigour as to become the father of manycalves. Turner does not state by what mother these calves were born,an important omission, as he adds that all these died but one cow,which bore a calf by an Indian bull. A painting of the yak (copiedinto Turner's book) by Stubbs, the animal painter, may be seen in theMuseum of the Royal College of Surgeons, London. The artist isprobably a little indebted to description for the appearance of itshair in a native state, for it is represented much too even inlength, and reaching to too uniform a depth from the flanks.] Lastly,the yak is ridden, especially by the fat Lamas, who find its shaggycoat warm, and its paces easy; under these circ*mstances it is alwaysled. The wild yak or bison (D'hong) of central Asia, the superbprogenitor of this animal, is the largest native animal of Tibet, invarious parts of which country it is found; and the Tibetans say, inreference to its size, that the liver is a load for a tame yak.The Sikkim Dewan gave Dr. Campbell and myself an animated account ofthe chase of this animal, which is hunted by large dogs, and shotwith a blunderbuss: it is untameable and horridly fierce, fallingupon you with horns and chest, and if he rasps you with his tongue,it is so rough as to scrape the flesh from the bones. The horn isused as a drinking-cup in marriage feasts, and on other grandoccasions. My readers are probably familiar with Messrs. Huc andGabet's account of a herd of these animals being frozen fast in thehead-waters of the Yangtsekiang river. There is a noble specimen inthe British Museum not yet set up, and another is preparing forexhibition in the Crystal Palace at Sydenham.

The inhabitants of these frontier districts belong to two verydifferent tribes, but all are alike called Bhoteeas (from Bhote, theproper name of Tibet), and have for many centuries been located inwhat is—in climate and natural features—a neutral ground betweendry Tibet Proper, and the wet Himalayan gorges. They inhabit aclimate too cold for either the Lepcha or Nepalese, migrating between6000 and 15,000 feet with the seasons, always accompanied by theirherds. In all respects of appearance, religion, manners, customs, andlanguage, they are Tibetans and Lama Booddhists, but they pay tax tothe Nepal and Sikkim Rajahs, to whom they render immense service bykeeping up and facilitating the trade in salt, wool, musk, etc.,which could hardly be conducted without their co-operation. They levya small tax on all imports, and trade a little on their own account,but are generally poor and very indolent. In their alpine summerquarters they grow scanty crops of wheat, barley, turnips, andradishes; and at their winter quarters, as at Loongtoong, the betterclasses cultivate fine crops of buck-wheat, millet, spinach, etc.;though seldom enough for their support, as in spring they are obligedto buy rice from the inhabitants of the lower regions. Equallydependent on Nepal and Tibet, they very naturally hold themselvesindependent of both; and I found that my roving commission from theNepal Rajah was not respected, and the guard of Ghorkas held verycheap.

On my arrival at Wallanchoon, I was conducted to two tents, eachabout eight feet long, of yak's hair, striped blue and white, whichhad been pitched close to the village for my accommodation. Thoughthe best that could be provided, and larger than my own, they werewretched in the extreme, being of so loose a texture that the windblew through them: each was formed of two cloths with a long slitbetween them, that ran across the top, giving egress to the smoke,and ingress to the weather: they were supported on two short poles,kept to the ground by large stones, and fastened by yak's hair ropes.A fire was smoking vigorously in the centre of one, and some plankswere laid at the end for my bed. A crowd of people soon came to stareand loll out their tongues at me, my party, and travelling equipage;though very civil, and only offensive in smell, they weretroublesome, from their eager curiosity to see and handle everything;so that I had to place a circle of stones round the tents, whilst asoldier stood by, on the alert to keep them off. A more idle peopleare not to be found, except with regard to spinning, which is theirconstant occupation, every man and woman carrying a bundle of wool inthe breast of their garments, which is spun by hand with a spindle,and wound off on two cross-pieces at its lower end. Spinning,smoking, and tea-drinking are their chief pursuits; and the womentake all the active duties of the dairy and house. They live veryhappily together, fighting being almost unknown.

Soon after my arrival I was waited on by the Guobah (or head-man), atall, good-looking person, dressed in a purple woollen robe, withgood pearl and coral ear and finger-rings, and a broad ivory ringover the left thumb,* [A broad ring of this material, agate, orchalcedony, is a mark of rank here, as amongst the Man-choos, andthroughout Central Asia.] as a guard when using the bow; he wore aneat thick white felt cap, with the border turned up, and a silktassel on the top; this he removed with both hands and held beforehim, bowing three times on entering. He was followed by a crowd, someof whom were his own people, and brought a present of a kid, fowls,rice, and eggs, and some spikenard roots (Nardostachys Jatamansi, aspecies of valerian smelling strongly of patchouli), which is a veryfavourite perfume. After paying some compliments, he showed me roundthe village. During my walk, I found that I had a good manyobjections to overrule before I could proceed to the Wallanchoonpass, nearly two days' journey to the northward. In the first place,the Guobah disputed the Nepal rajah's authority to pass me throughhis dominions; and besides the natural jealousy of these people whenintruded upon, they have very good reasons for concealing the amountof revenue they raise from their position, and for keeping up thedelusion that they alone can endure the excessive climate of theseregions, or undergo the hardships and toil of the salt trade. Mypassport said nothing about the passes; my people, and especially theGhorkas, detested the keen, cold, and cutting wind; at Mywa Guola, Ihad been persuaded by the Havildar to put off providing snow-bootsand blankets, on the assurance that I should easily get them atWalloong, which I now found all but impossible, owing to there beingno bazaar. My provisions were running short, and for the same reasonI had no present hope of replenishing them. All my party had, Ifound, reckoned with certainty that I should have had enough of thiselevation and weather by the time I reached Walloong. Some of themfell sick; the Guobah swore that the passes were full of snow, andhad been impracticable since October; and the Ghorka Havildarrespectfully deposed that he had no orders relative to the pass.Prompt measures were requisite, so I told all my people that I shouldstop the next day at Walloong, and proceed on the following on athree days' journey to the pass, with or without the Guobah'spermission. To the Ghorka soldiers I said that the present they wouldreceive, and the character they would take to their commandant,depended on their carrying out this point, which had been fullyexplained before starting. My servants I told that their pay andreward also depended on their implicit obedience. I took the Guobahaside and showed him troops of yaks (tethered by halters and togglesto a long rope stretched between two rocks), which had that morningarrived laden with salt from the north; I told him it was vain to tryand deceive me; that my passport was ample, and that I should expecta guide, provisions, and snow-boots the next day; and that everyimpediment and every facility should be reported to the rajah.

During my two days' stay at Walloong, the weather was bitterly cold:as heretofore, the nights and mornings were cloudless, but by noonthe whole sky became murky, the highest temperature (50 degrees)occurring at 10 a.m. At this season the prospect from this elevation(10,385 feet), was dreary in the extreme; and the quantity of snow onthe mountains, which was continually increasing, held out a dismalpromise for my chance of exploring lofty uninhabited regions.All annual and deciduous vegetation had long past, and the loftyHimalayas are very poor in mosses and lichens, as compared with theEuropean Alps, and arctic regions in general. The temperaturefluctuated from 22 degrees at sunrise, to 50 degrees at 10 a.m.; themean being 35 degrees;* [This gives 1 degrees Fahr. for every 309feet of elevation, using contemporaneous observations at Calcutta,and correcting for latitude, etc.] one night it fell to 64 degrees.Throughout the day, a south wind blew strong and cold up the valley,and at sunset was replaced by a keen north blast, searching everycorner, and piercing through tent and blankets. Though the sun's rayswere hot for an hour or two in the morning, its genial influence wasnever felt in the wind. The air was never very dry, the wet-bulbthermometer standing during the day 3.75 degrees below the dry, thusgiving a mean dew-point of 30.25 degrees. A thermometer sunk two feetstood at 44 degrees, fully 9 degrees above the mean temperature ofthe air; one exposed to the clear sky, stood, during the day, severaldegrees below the air in shade, and, at night, from 9 degrees to14.75 degrees lower. The black-bulb thermometer, in the sun, rose to65.75 degrees above the air, indicating upwards of 90 degreesdifference at nearly the warmest part of the day, between contiguousshaded and sunny exposures. The sky, when cloudless, was generally acold blue or steel-grey colour, but at night the stars were large,and twinkled gloriously. The black-glass photometer indicated 10.521inches* [On three mornings the maxima occurred at between 9 and 10a.m. They were, Nov. 24th, 10.509, Nov. 25th, 10.521. On the 25th, atTuquoroma, I recorded 10.510. The maximum effect observed atDorjiling (7340 feet) was 10.328, and on the plains of India 10.350.The maximum I ever recorded was in Yangma valley (15,186 feet),10.572 at 1 p.m.] as the maximum intensity of sunlight; thetemperature of the river close by fell to 32 degrees during thenight, and rose to 37 degrees in the day. In my tent, the temperaturefluctuated with the state of the fire, from 26 degrees at night to 58degrees when the sun beat on it; but the only choice was between coldand suffocating smoke.

After a good many conferences with the Guobah, some bullying, douceviolence, persuasions, and the prescribing of pills, prayers, andcharms in the shape of warm water, for the sick of the village,whereby I gained some favour, I was, on the 25th Nov., grudginglyprepared for the trip to Wallanchoon, with a guide, and somesnow-boots for those of my party whom I took with me.

The path lay north-west up the valley, which became thickly woodedwith silver-fir and juniper; we gradually ascended, crossing manystreams from lateral gulleys, and huge masses of boulders. Evergreenrhododendrons soon replaced the firs, growing in inconceivableprofusion, especially on the slopes facing the south: east, and withno other shrubs or tree-vegetation, but scattered bushes of rose,Spiraea, dwarf juniper, stunted birch, willow, honey-suckle,berberry, and a mountain-ash (Pyrus). What surprised me more thanthe prevalence of rhododendron bushes, was the number of species ofthis genus, easily recognised by the shape of their capsules, theform and woolly covering of the leaves; none were in flower, but Ireaped a rich harvest of seed. At 12,000 feet the valley was wild,open, and broad, with sloping mountains clothed for 1000 feet withdark-green rhododendron bushes; the river ran rapidly, and was brokeninto falls here and there. Huge angular and detached masses of rockwere scattered about, and to the right and left snowy peaks toweredover the surrounding mountains, while amongst the latter narrowgulleys led up to blue patches of glacial ice, with trickling streamsand shoots of stones. Dwarf rhododendrons with strongly-scentedleaves (R. anthopogon and setosum), and abundance of a littleAndromeda, exactly like ling, with woody stems and tufted branches,gave a heathery appearance to the hill-sides. The prevalence oflichens, common to this country and to Scotland (especially L.geographicus_), which coloured the rocks, added an additional featureto the resemblance to Scotch Highland scenery. Along the narrow pathI found the two commonest of all British weeds, a grass (Poaannua), and the shepherd's purse! They had evidently been importedby man and yaks, and as they do not occur in India, I could not butregard these little wanderers from the north with the deepestinterest.

Such incidents as these give rise to trains of reflection in the mindof the naturalist traveller; and the farther he may be from home andfriends, the more wild and desolate the country he is exploring, thegreater the difficulties and dangers under which he encounters thesesubjects of his earliest studies in science; so much keener is thedelight with which he recognises them, and the more lasting is theimpression which they leave. At this moment these common weeds morevividly recall to me that wild scene than does all my journal, andremind me how I went on my way, taxing my memory for all it ever knewof the geographical distribution of the shepherd's purse, and musingon the probability of the plant having found its way thither over allCentral Asia, and the ages that may have been occupied in its march.

On reaching 13,000 feet, the ground was everywhere hard and frozen,and I experienced the first symptoms of lassitude, headache, andgiddiness; which however, were but slight, and only came on withsevere exertion.

We encountered a group of Tibetans, encamped to leeward of an immenseboulder of gneiss, against which they had raised a shelter with theirsalt-bags, removed from their herd of yaks, which were grazing closeby. They looked miserably cold and haggard, and their little upturnedeyes, much inflamed and bloodshot, testified to the hardships theyhad endured in their march from the salt regions: they were crouchedround a small fire of juniper wood, smoking iron pipes with agatemouthpieces. A resting-house was in sight across the stream—a loosestone hut, to which we repaired. I wondered why these Tibetans hadnot taken possession of it, not being aware of the value they attachto a rock, on account of the great warmth which it imbibes from thesun's rays during the day, and retains at night. This invaluableproperty of otherwise inhospitable gneiss and granite I hadafterwards many opportunities of proving; and when driven for anight's shelter to such as rude nature might afford on the bleakmountain, I have had my blankets laid beneath "the shadow of a greatrock in a weary land."

The name of Dhamersala is applied, in the mountains as in the plainsof India, to a house provided for the accommodation of travellers,whether it be one of the beautiful caravanserais built to gratify thepiety, ostentation, or benevolence of a rajah, or such a miserableshieling of rough stone and plank as that of Tuquoroma, in which wetook up our quarters, at 13,000 feet elevation. A cheerful fire soonblazed on the earthen floor, filling the room with the pungent odourof juniper, which made our eyes smart and water. The Ghorkas withdrewto one corner, and my Lepchas to a second, while one end was screenedoff for my couch; unluckily, the wall faced the north-east, and inthat direction there was a gulley in the snowy mountains, down whichthe wind swept with violence, penetrating to my bed. I had calculatedupon a good night's rest here, which I much needed, having beenworried and unwell at Wallanchoon, owing to the Guobah's obstinacy. Ihad not then learnt how to treat such conduct, and just beforeretiring to rest had further been informed by the Havildar that theGuobah declared we should find no food on our return. To remain inthese mountains without a supply was impossible, and the delay, ofsending to Mywa Guola would not have answered; so I long lay awake,occupied in arranging measures. The night was clear and very cold;the thermometer falling to 19 degrees at 9 p.m., and to 12 degrees inthe night, and that by my bedside to 20 degrees.

On the following morning (Nov. 26th) I started with a small party tovisit the pass, continuing up the broad, grassy valley; much snow layon the ground at 13,500 feet, which had fallen the previous month;and several glaciers were seen in lateral ravines at about the sameelevation. After a couple of miles, we left the broad valley, whichcontinued north-west, and struck northward up a narrow, stony, andsteep gorge, crossing an immense ancient moraine at its mouth. Thispath, which we followed for seven or eight miles, led up to the pass,winding considerably, and keeping along the south-east exposures,which, being the most sunny, are the freest from snow. The morningwas splendid, the atmosphere over the dry rocks and earth, at 14,000feet, vibrating from the power of the sun's rays, whilst vast massesof blue glacier and fields of snow choked every galley, and werespread over all shady places. Although, owing to the steepness andnarrowness of the gorge, no view was obtained, the scenery was wildand very grand. Just below where perpetual snow descends to the path,an ugly carved head of a demon, with blood-stained cheeks andgoggle-eyes, was placed in a niche of rock, and protected by a glass.

At 15,000 feet, the snow closed in on the path from all sides,whether perpetual, glacial, or only the October fall, I could nottell; the guide declared it to be perpetual henceforward, though nowdeepened by the very heavy October fall; the path was cut some threefeet through it. Enormous boulders of gneiss cumbered the bottom ofthe gorge, which gradually widened as we approached its summit; andrugged masses of black and red gneiss and mica schist pierced thesnow, and stood out in dismal relief. For four miles continuously weproceeded over snow; which was much honey-combed on the surface, andtreacherous from the icy streams it covered, into which we every nowand then stumbled; there was scarcely a trace of vegetation, and thecold was excessive, except in the sun.

Towards the summit of the pass the snow lay very deep, and wefollowed the course of a small stream which cut through it, the wallsof snow being breast-high on each side; the path was still frequentedby yaks, of which we overtook a small party going to Tibet, ladenwith planks. All the party appeared alike overcome by lassitude,shortness and difficulty of breathing, a sense of weight on thestomach, giddiness and headache, with tightness across the temples.

Just below the summit was a complete bay of snow, girdled with twosharp peaks of red baked schists and gneiss, strangely contorted, andthrown up at all angles with no prevalent dip or strike, andpermeated with veins of granite. The top itself, or boundary betweenNepal and Tibet, is a low saddle between two rugged ridges of rock,with a cairn built on it, adorned with bits of stick and rag coveredwith Tibetan inscriptions. The view into Tibet was not at alldistant, and was entirely of snowy mountains, piled ridge over ridge;three of these spurs must, it is said, be crossed before any descentcan be made to the Chomachoo river (as the Arun is called in Tibet),on which is the frontier fort of the Tibetans, and which is reachedin two or three days. There is no plain or level ground of any kindbefore reaching that river, of which the valley is said to be wideand flat.

Starting at 10 a.m., we did not reach the top till 3.30 p.m.; we hadhalted nowhere, but the last few miles had been most laborious, andthe three of us who gained the summit were utterly knocked up.Fortunately I carried my own barometer; it indicated 16.206 inches,giving by comparative observations with Calcutta 16,764 feet, andwith Dorjiling, 16,748 feet, as the height of the pass.The thermometer stood at 18 degrees, and the sun being now hiddenbehind rocks, the south-east wind was bitterly cold. Hitherto the sunhad appeared as a clearly defined sparkling globe, against a dark-blue sky; but the depth of the azure blue was not so striking as Ihad been led to suppose, by the accounts of previous travellers, invery lofty regions. The plants gathered near the top of the pass werespecies of Compositae, grass, and Arenaria; the most curious wasSaussurea gossypina, which forms great clubs of the softest whitewool, six inches to a foot high, its flowers and leaves seeminguniformly clothed with the warmest fur that nature can devise.Generally speaking, the alpine plants of the Himalaya are quiteunprovided with any special protection of this kind; it is theprevalence and conspicuous nature of the exceptions that mislead, andinduce the careless observer to generalise hastily from solitaryinstances; for the prevailing alpine genera of the Himalaya,Arenarias, primroses, saxifrages, fumitories, Ranunculi,gentians, grasses, sedges, etc., have almost uniformly naked foliage.

We descended to the foot of the pass in about two hours, darknessovertaking us by the way; the twilight, however, being prolonged bythe glare of the snow. Fearing the distance to Tuquoroma might be toogreat to permit of our returning thither the same night; I had had afew things brought hither during the day, and finding they hadarrived, we encamped under the shelter of some enormous boulders (at13,500 feet), part of an ancient moraine, which extended somedistance along the bed of the narrow valley. Except an excruciatingheadache, I felt no ill effects from my ascent; and after a supper oftea and biscuit, I slept soundly.

On the following morning the temperature was 28 degrees at 6.30 a.m.,and rose to 30 degrees when the sun appeared over the mountains at8.15, at which time the black bulb thermometer suddenly mounted to112 degrees, upwards of 80 degrees above the temperature of the air.The sky was brilliantly clear, with a very dry, cold, north windblowing down the snowy valley of the pass.

CHAPTER X.

Return from Wallanchoon pass — Procure a bazaar at village — Danceof Lamas — Blacking face, Tibetan custom of — Temple and convent —Leave for Kanglachem pass — Send part of party back to Dorjiling —Yangma Guola — Drunken Tibetans — Guobah of Wallanchoon — Camp atfoot of Great Moraine — View from top — Geological speculations —Height of moraines — Cross dry lake-bed — Glaciers — More moraines— Terraces — Yangma temples — Jos, books and furniture — Peak ofNango — Lake — Arrive at village — Cultivation — Scenery —Potatos — State of my provisions — Pass through village — Giganticboulders Terraces — Wild sheep — Lake-beds — Sun's power — Pilesof gravel and detritus — Glaciers and moraines — Pabuk, elevationof — Moonlight scene — Return to Yangma — Temperature, etc. —Geological causes of phenomena in valley — Scenery of valleyon descent.

I returned to the village of Wallanchoon, after collecting all theplants I could around my camp; amongst them a common-looking dockabounded in the spots which the yaks had frequented.

The ground was covered, as with heather, with abundance of creepingdwarf juniper, Andromeda, and dwarf rhododendron. On arriving atthe village, I refused to receive the Guobah, unless he opened abazaar at daylight on the following morning, where my people mightpurchase food; and threatened to bring charges against him before hisRajah. At the same time I arranged for sending the main body of myparty down the Tambur, and so back to Sikkim, whilst I should, withas few as possible, visit the Kanglachem (Tibetan) pass in theadjacent valley to the eastward, and then, crossing the Nango,Kambachen and Kanglanamo passes, reach Jongri in Sikkim, on the southflank of Kinchinjunga.

Strolling out in the afternoon I saw a dance of Lamas; they weredisfigured with black paint* [I shall elsewhere have to refer to theTibetan custom of daubing the face with black pigment to protect theskin from the excessive cold and dryness of these lofty regions; andto the ludicrous imposition that was passed on the credulity of MM.Huc and Gabet.] and covered with rags, feathers, and scarlet cloth,and they carried long poles with bells and banners attached; thusequipped, they marched through the village, every now and thenhalting, when they danced and gesticulated to the rude music ofcymbals and horns, the bystanders applauding with shouts, crackers,and alms.

I walked up to the convents, which were long ugly buildings, severalstories high, built of wood, and daubed with red and grey paint.The priests were nowhere to be found, and an old withered nun, whomI disturbed husking millet in a large wooden mortar, fled at myapproach. The temple stood close by the convent, and had a broad lowarchitrave: the walls sloped inwards, as did the lintels: the doorswere black, and almost covered with a gigantic and disproportionedpainting of a head, with bloody cheeks and huge teeth; it wassurrounded by myriads of goggle eyes, which seemed to follow oneabout everywhere; and though in every respect rude, the effect wassomewhat imposing. The similarly proportioned gloomy portals ofEgyptian fanes naturally invite comparison; but the Tibetan templeslack the sublimity of these; and the uncomfortable creeping sensationproduced by the many sleepless eyes of Boodh's numerous incarnationsis very different from the awe with which we contemplate theoutspread wings of the Egyptian symbol, and feel as in the presenceof the God who says, "I am Osiris the Great: no man hath dared tolift my veil."

I had ascended behind the village, but returned down the "via sacra,"a steep paved path flanked by mendongs or low stone dykes, into whichwere let rows of stone slabs, inscribed with the sacred "Om ManiPadmi om."—"Hail to him of the lotus and jewel"; an invocation ofSakkya, who is usually represented holding a lotus flower with ajewel in it.

On the following morning, a scanty supply of vcry dirty rice wasproduced, at a very high price. I had, however, so divided my partyas not to require a great amount of food, intending to send most ofthe people back by the Tambur to Dorjiling. I kept nineteen personsin all, selecting the most willing, as it was evident the journey atthis season would be one of great hardship: we took seven days' food,which was as much as they could carry. At noon, I left Wallanchoon,and mustered my party at the junction of the Tambur and Yangma,whence I dismissed the party for Dorjiling, with my collections ofplants, minerals, etc., and proceeded with the chosen ones to ascendthe Yangma river. The scenery was wild and very grand, our path lyingthrough a narrow gorge, choked with pine trees, down which the riverroared in a furious torrent; while the mountains on each side werecrested with castellated masses of rock, and sprinkled with snow.The road was very bad, often up ladders, and along planks lashed tothe faces of precipices, and over-hanging the torrent, which itcrossed several times by plank bridges. By dark we arrived at YangmaGuola, a collection of empty wood huts buried in the rockyforest-clad valley, and took possession of a couple. They were wellbuilt, raised on posts, with a stage and ladder at the gable end, andconsisted of one good-sized apartment. Around was abundance of dock,together with three common English plants.* [Cardamine hirsuta,Limosella aquatica, and Juncus bufonius.]

The night was calm, misty, and warm (Max. 41.5 degrees, Min. 29degrees) for the elevation (9,300 feet). During the night, I wasstartled out of my sleep by a blaze of light, and jumping up, foundmyself in presence of a party of most sinister-looking, black, raggedTibetans, armed with huge torches of pine, that filled the room withflame and pitchy smoke. I remembered their arriving just before dark,and their weapons dispelled my fears, for they came armed with bamboojugs of Murwa beer, and were very drunk and very amiable: theygrinned, nodded, kotowed, lolled out their tongues, and scratchedtheir ears in the most seductive manner, then held out their jugs,and besought me by words and gestures to drink and be happy too.I awoke my servant (always a work of difficulty), and with sometrouble ejected the visitors, happily without setting the house onfire. I heard them toppling head over heels down the stair, which Iafterwards had drawn up to prevent further intrusion, and in spite oftheir drunken orgies, was soon lulled to sleep again by the music ofthe roaring river.

On the 29th November, I continued my course north up the Yangmavalley, which after five miles opened considerably, the treesdisappearing, and the river flowing more tranquilly, and through abroader valley, when above 11,000 feet elevation. The Guobah ofWallanchoon overtook us on the road; on his way, he said, to collectthe revenues at Yangma village, but in reality to see what I wasabout. He owns five considerable villages, and is said to pay a taxof 6000 rupees (600 pounds) to the Rajah of Nepal: this is no doubt agreat exaggeration, but the revenues of such a position, near a passfrequented almost throughout the year, must be considerable.Every yak going and coming is said to pay 1s., and every horse 4s.;cattle, sheep, ponies, land, and wool are all taxed; he exports alsoquantities of timber to Tibet, and various articles from the plainsof India. He joined my party and halted where I did, had his littleChinese rug spread, and squatted cross-legged on it, whilst hisservant prepared his brick tea with salt, butter, and soda, of whichhe partook, snuffed, smoked, rose up, had all his traps repacked, andwas off again.

We encamped at a most remarkable place: the valley was broad, withlittle vegetation but stunted tree-junipers: rocky snow-toppedmountains rose on either side, bleak, bare, and rugged; and in front,close above my tent, was a gigantic wall of rocks, piled—as if bythe Titans—completely across the valley, for about three-quarters ofa mile. This striking phenomenon had excited all my curiosity onfirst obtaining a view of it. The path, I found, led over it, closeunder its west end, and wound amongst the enormous detached fragmentsof which it was formed, and which were often eighty feet square: allwere of gneiss and schist, with abundance of granite in blocks andveins. A superb view opened from the top, revealing its nature to bea vast moraine, far below the influence of any existing glaciers, butwhich at some antecedent period had been thrown across by a glacierdescending to 10,000 feet, from a lateral valley on the east flank.Standing on the top, and looking south, was the Yangma valley (upwhich I had come), gradually contracting to a defile, girdled bysnow-tipped mountains, whose rocky flanks mingled with the black pineforest below. Eastward the moraine stretched south of the lateralvalley, above which towered the snowy peak of Nango, tinged rosy red,and sparkling in the rays of the setting sun: blue glaciers peepedfrom every gulley on its side, but these were 2000 to 3000 feet abovethis moraine; they were small too, and their moraines were meregravel, compared with this. Many smaller consecutive moraines, also,were evident along the bottom of that lateral valley, from this greatone up to the existing glaciers. Looking up the Yangma was a flatgrassy plain, hemmed in by mountains, and covered with otherstupendous moraines, which rose ridge behind ridge, and cut off theview of all but the mountain tops to the north. The river meanderedthrough the grassy plain (which appeared a mile and a half broad atthe utmost, and perhaps as long), and cut through the great moraineon its eastern side, just below the junction of the stream from theglacial valley, which, at the lower part of its course, flowed overa broad steep shingle bed.

Illustration—ANCIENT MORAINE THROWN ACROSS THE YANGMA VALLEY, EAST
NEPAL (Elevn. 11,000 ft.)

I descended to my camp, full of anxious anticipations for the morrow;while the novelty of the scene, and its striking character, thecomplexity of the phenomena, the lake-bed, the stupendousice-deposited moraine, and its remoteness from any existing ice, thebroad valley and open character of the country, were all marked outas so many problems suddenly conjured up for my unaided solution, andkept me awake for many hours. I had never seen a glacier or moraineon land before, but being familiar with sea ice and berg transport,from voyaging in the South Polar regions, I was strongly inclined toattribute the formation of this moraine to a period when a glacialocean stood high on the Himalaya, made fiords of the valleys, andfloated bergs laden with blocks from the lateral gulleys, which thewinds and currents would deposit along certain lines. On thefollowing morning I carried a barometer to the top of the moraine,which proved to be upwards of 700 feet above the floor of the valley,and 400 above the dry lake-bed which it bounded, and to which wedescended on our route up the valley. The latter was grassy andpebbly, perfectly level, and quite barren, except a very few pines atthe bases of the encircling mountains, and abundance ofrhododendrons, Andromeda and juniper on the moraines. Isolatedmoraines occurred along both flanks of the valley, some higher thanthat I have described, and a very long one was thrown nearly acrossfrom the upper end of another lateral gulley on the east side, alsoleading up to the glaciers of Nango. This second moraine commenced amile and a half above the first, and abutting on the east flank ofthe valley, stretched nearly across, and then curving round, ran downit, parallel to and near the west flank, from which it was separatedby the Yangma river: it was abruptly terminated by a conical hill ofboulders, round whose base the river flowed, entering the drylake-bed from the west, and crossing it in a south-easterly directionto the western extremity of the great moraine.

The road, on its ascent to the second moraine, passed over an immenseaccumulation of glacial detritus at the mouth of the second lateralvalley, entirely formed of angular fragments of gneiss and granite,loosely bound together by felspathic sand. The whole was disposed inconcentric ridges radiating from the mouth of the valley, anddescending to the flat; these were moraines in petto, formed by theaction of winter snow and ice upon the loose debris. A stream flowedover this debris, dividing into branches before reaching thelake-bed, where its waters were collected, and whence it meanderedsouthward to fall into the Yangma.

From the top of the second moraine, a very curious scene opened upthe valley, of another but more stony and desolate level lake-bed,through which the Yangma (here very rapid) rushed, cutting a channelabout sixty feet deep; the flanks of this second lake-bed were cutmost distinctly into two principal terraces, which were againsubdivided into others, so that the general appearance was that ofmany raised beaches, but each so broken up, that, with the exceptionof one on the banks of the river, none were continuous for anydistance. We descended 200 feet, and crossed the valley and riverobliquely in a north-west direction, to a small temple and conventwhich stood on a broad flat terrace under the black, precipitous,west flank: this gave me a good opportunity of examining thestructure of this part of the valley, which was filled with anaccumulation, probably 200 feet thick at the deepest part, of angulargravel and enormous boulders, both imbedded in the gravel, andstrewed on the flat surfaces of the terraces. The latter were alwaysbroadest opposite to the lateral valleys, perfectly horizontal forthe short distance that they were continuous; and very barren; therewere no traces of fossils, nor could I assure myself ofstratification. The accumulation was wholly glacial; and probably alake had supervened on the melting of the great glacier and itsrecedence, which lake, confined by a frozen moraine, wouldperiodically lose its waters by sudden accessions of heat melting theice of the latter. Stratified silt, no doubt, once covered the lakebottom, and the terraces have, in succession, been denuded of it byrain and snow. These causes are now in operation amongst thestupendous glaciers of north-east Sikkim, where valleys, dammed up bymoraines, exhibit lakes hemmed in between these, the base of theglacier, and the flanks of the valleys.

Illustration—ANCIENT MORAINES IN THE YANGMA VALLEY.

Yangma convents stood at the mouth of a gorge which opened upon theuppermost terrace; and the surface of the latter, here well coveredwith grass, was furrowed into concentric radiating ridges, which werevery conspicuous from a distance. The buildings consisted of awretched collection of stone huts, painted red, enclosed by loosestone dykes. Two shockingly dirty Lamas received me and conducted meto the temple, which had very thick walls, but was undistinguishablefrom the other buildings. A small door opened upon an apartment piledfull of old battered gongs, drums, scraps of silk hangings, redcloth, broken praying-machines—relics much resembling those in thelumber-room of a theatre. A ladder led from this dismal hole to theupper story, which was entered by a handsomely carved and gildeddoor: within, all was dark, except from a little lattice-windowcovered with oil-paper. On one side was the library, a carved case,with a hundred gilded pigeon-holes, each holding a real or sham book,and each closed by a little square door, on which hung a bag full ofamulets. In the centre of the book-case was a recess, containing agenuine Jos or Fo, graced with his Chinese attribute of very longpendulous moustaches and beard, and totally wanting that air ofcontemplative repose which the Tibetan Lamas give to their idols.Banners were suspended around, with paintings of Lhassa, TeshooLoombo, and various incarnations of Boodh. The books were of theusual Tibetan form, oblong squares of separate block-printed leavesof paper, made in Nepal or Bhotan from the bark of a Daphne, boundtogether by silk cords, and placed between ornamented wooden boards.On our way up the valley, we had passed some mendongs and chaits, thelatter very pretty stone structures, consisting of a cube, pyramid,hemisphere, and cone placed on the top of one another, formingtogether the tasteful combination which appears on the cover ofthese volumes.

Beyond the convents the valley again contracted, and on crossing athird, but much lower, moraine, a lake opened to view, surrounded byflat terraces, and a broad gravelly shore, part of the lake beingdry. To the west, the cliffs were high, black and steep: to the easta large lateral valley, filled at about 1500 feet up with blueglaciers, led (as did the other lateral valleys) to the gleamingsnows of Nango; the moraine, too, here abutted on the east flank ofthe Yangma valley, below the mouth of the lateral one. Much snow(from the October fall) lay on the ground, and the cold was pinchingin the shade; still I could not help attempting to sketch thiswonderfully grand scene, especially as lakes in the Himalaya areextremely rare: the present one was about a mile long, very shallow,but broad, and as smooth as glass: it reminded me of the tarn inGlencoe. The reflected lofty peak of Nango appeared as if frozen deepdown in its glassy bed, every snowy crest and ridge being renderedwith perfect precision.

Illustration—LOOKING ACROSS YANGMA VALLEY.

Nango is about 18,000 feet high; it is the next lofty mountain ofthe Kinchinjunga group to the west of Junnoo, and I doubt if anyequally high peak occurs again for some distance further west inNepal. Facing the Yangma valley, it presents a beautiful range ofprecipices of black rock, capped with a thick crust of snow: belowthe cliffs the snow again appears continuously and very steep, for2000 to 3000 feet downwards, where it terminates in glaciers thatdescend to 14,000 feet. The steepest snow-beds appear cut intovertical ridges, whence the whole snowy face is—as it were—crimpedin perpendicular, closely-set, zigzag lines, doubtless caused by themelting process, which furrows the surface of the snow into channelsby which the water is carried off: the effect is very beautiful, butimpossible to represent on paper, from the extreme delicacy of theshadows, and at the same time the perfect definition and precision ofthe outlines.

Towards the head of the lake, its bed was quite dry and gravelly, andthe river formed a broad delta over it: the terraces here wereperhaps 100 feet above its level, those at the lower end not nearlyso much. Beyond the lake, the river became again a violent torrent,rushing in a deep chasm, till we arrived at the fork of the valley,where we once more met with numerous dry lake-beds, with terraceshigh up on the mountain sides.

In the afternoon we reached the village of Yangma, a miserablecollection of 200 to 300 stone huts, nestling under the steepsouth-east flank of a lofty, flat-topped terrace, laden with giganticglacial boulders, and projecting southward from a snowy mountainwhich divides the valley. We encamped on the flat under the village,amongst some stone dykes, enclosing cultivated fields. One arm of thevalley runs hence N.N.E. amongst snowy mountains, and appeared quitefull of moraines; the other, or continuation of the Yangma, runsW.N.W., and leads to the Kanglachem pass.

Near our camp (of which the elevation was 13,500 feet), radishes,barley, wheat, potatos, and turnips, were cultivated as summer crops,and we even saw some on the top of the terrace, 400 feet above ourcamp, or nearly 14,000 feet above the sea; these were grown in smallfields cleared of stones, and protected by dykes.

The scenery, though dismal, (no juniper even attaining thiselevation,) was full of interest and grandeur, from the number andvariety of snowy peaks and glaciers all around the elevated horizon;the ancient lake-beds, now green or brown with scanty vegetation, thevast moraines, the ridges of glacial debris, the flat terraces,marking, as it were with parallel roads, the bluff sides of themountains, the enormous boulders perched upon them, and strewedeverywhere around, the little Boodhist monuments of quaint,picturesque shapes, decorated with poles and banners, themany-coloured dresses of the people, the brilliant blue of thecloudless heaven by day, the depth of its blackness by night,heightened by the light of the stars, that blaze and twinkle with alustre unknown in less lofty regions: all these were subjects forcontemplation, rendered more impressive by the stillness of theatmosphere, and the silence that reigned around. The village seemedburied in repose throughout the day: the inhabitants had alreadyhybernated, their crops were stored, the curd made and dried, thepasses closed, the soil frozen, the winter's stock of fuel housed,and the people had retired into the caverns of their halfsubterranean houses, to sleep, spin wool, and think of Boodh, if ofanything at all, the dead, long winter through. The yaks alone canfind anything to do: so long as any vegetation remains they roam andeat it, still yielding milk, which the women take morning andevening, when their shrill whistle and cries are heard for a fewminutes, as they call the grunting animals. No other sounds, save theharsh roar and hollow echo of the falling rock, glacier, or snow-bed,disturbed the perfect silence of the day or night.* [Snow covers theground at Yangma from December till April, and the falls are said tobe very heavy, at times amounting to 12 feet in depth.]

I had taken three days' food to Yangma, and stayed there as long asit lasted: the rest of my provisions I had left below the firstmoraine, where a lateral valley leads east over the Nango pass to theKambachen valley, which lay on the route back to Sikkim.

I was premature in complaining of my Wallanchoon tents, thoseprovided for me at Yangma being infinitely worse, mere rags, aroundwhich I piled sods as a defence from the insidious piercingnight-wind that descended from the northern glaciers in calm, butmost keen, breezes. There was no food to be procured in the village,except a little watery milk, and a few small watery potatos.The latter have only very recently been introduced amongst theTibetans, from the English garden at the Nepalese capital, I believe,and their culture has not spread in these regions further east thanKinchinjunga, but they will very soon penetrate into Tibet fromDorjiling, or eastward from Nepal. My private stock of provisions—consisting chiefly of preserved meats from my kind friendMr. Hodgson—had fallen very low; and I here found to my dismay thatof four remaining two-pound cases, provided as meat, three containedprunes, and one "dindon aux truffes!" Never did luxuries come moreinopportunely; however the greasy French viand served for many afuture meal as sauce to help me to bolt my rice, and according to thetheory of chemists, to supply animal heat in these frigid regions.As for my people, they were not accustomed to much animal food; twopounds of rice, with ghee and chilis, forming their common diet undercold and fatigue. The poorer Tibetans, especially, who undergo greatprivation and toil, live almost wholly on barley-meal, with tea, anda very little butter and salt: this is not only the case with thoseamongst whom I mixed so much, but is also mentioned by MM. Huc andGabet, as having been observed by them in other parts of Tibet.

On the 1st of December I visited the village and terrace, andproceeded to the head of the Yangma valley, in order to ascend theKanglachem pass as far as practicable. The houses are low, built ofstone, of no particular shape, and are clustered in groups againstthe steep face of the terrace; filthy lanes wind amongst them, sonarrow, that if you are not too tall, you look into the slits ofwindows on either hand, by turning your head, and feel the noisomewarm air in whiffs against your face. Glacial boulders lie scatteredthroughout the village, around and beneath the clusters of houses,from which it is sometimes difficult to distinguish the native rock.I entered one house by a narrow low door through walls four feetthick, and found myself in an apartment full of wool, juniper-wood,and dried dung for fuel: no one lived in the lower story, which wasquite dark, and as I stood in it my head was in the upper, to which Iascended by a notched pole (like that in the picture of a Kamschatkhouse in Cook's voyage), and went into a small low room. The inmateslooked half asleep, they were intolerably indolent and filthy, andwere employed in spinning wool and smoking. A hole in the wall of theupper apartment led me on to the stone roof of the neighbouringhouse, from which I passed to the top of a glacial boulder,descending thence by rude steps to the narrow alley. Wishing to seeas much as I could, I was led on a winding course through, in andout, and over the tops of the houses of the village, whichalternately reminded me of a stone quarry or gravel pit, and gipsiesliving in old lime-kilns; and of all sorts of odd places that areturned to account as human habitations.

From the village I ascended to the top of the terrace, which is aperfectly level, sandy, triangular plain, pointing down the valley atthe fork of the latter, and abutting against the flank of a steep,rocky, snow-topped mountain to the northward. Its length is probablyhalf a mile from north to south, but it runs for two miles westward upthe valley, gradually contracting. The surface, though level, is veryuneven, being worn into hollows, and presenting ridges and hillocks ofblown sand and gravel, with small black tufts of rhododendron.Enormous boulders of gneiss and granite were scattered over thesurface; one of the ordinary size, which I measured, was seventy feetin girth, and fifteen feet above the ground, into which it had partlysunk. From the southern pointed end I took sketches of the oppositeflanks of the valleys east and west. The river was about 400 feetbelow me, and flowed in a little flat lake-bed; other terraces skirtedit, cut out, as it were, from the side of that I was on. On theopposite flank of the valley were several superimposed terraces, ofwhich the highest appeared to tally with the level I occupied, and thelowest was raised very little above the river; none were continuousfor any distance, but the upper one in particular, could be mostconspicuously traced up and down the main valley, whilst, on lookingacross to the eastern valley, a much higher, but less distinctlymarked one appeared on it. The road to the pass lay west-north-west upthe north bank of the Yangma river, on the great terrace; for twomiles it was nearly level along the gradually narrowing shelf, attimes dipping into the steep gulleys formed by lateral torrents fromthe mountains; and as the terrace disappeared, or melted, as it were,into the rising floor of the valley, the path descended upon the lowerand smaller shelf.

Illustration—DIAGRAM OF THE GLACIAL TERRACES AT THE FORK OF THE
YANGA VALLEY.

We came suddenly upon a flock of gigantic wild sheep, feeding onscanty tufts of dried sedge and grass; there were twenty-five ofthese enormous animals, of whose dimensions the term sheep gives noidea: they are very long-legged, stand as high as a calf, and haveimmense horns, so large that the fox is said to take up his abode intheir hollows, when detached and bleaching, on the barren mountainsof Tibet. Though very wild, I am sure I could easily have killed acouple had I had my gun, but I had found it necessary to reduce myparty so uncompromisingly, that I could not afford a man both for mygun and instruments, and had sent the former back to Dorjiling, withMr. Hodgson's bird-stuffers, who had broken one of theirs. Travellingwithout fire-arms sounds strange in India, but in these regionsanimal life is very rare, game is only procured with much hunting andtrouble, and to come within shot of a flock of wild sheep was acontingency I never contemplated. Considering how very short we wereof any food, and quite out of animal diet, I could not but bitterlyregret the want of a gun, but consoled myself by reflecting that theinstruments were still more urgently required to enable me to surveythis extremely interesting valley. As it was, the great beaststrotted off, and turned to tantalise me by grazing within an easystalking distance. We saw several other flocks, of thirty to forty,during the day, but never, either on this or any future occasion,within shot. The Ovis Ammon of Pallas stands from four to five feethigh, and measures seven feet from nose to tail; it is quite aTibetan animal, and is seldom seen below 14,000 feet, except whendriven lower by snow; and I have seen it as high as 18,000 feet.The same animal, I believe, is found in Siberia, and is allied to theBig-horn of North America.

Soon after descending to the bed of the valley, which is broad andopen, we came on a second dry lake-bed, a mile long, with shelvingbanks all round, heavily snowed on the shaded side; the river wasdivided into many arms, and meandered over it, and a fineglacier-bound valley opened into it from the south. There were noboulders on its surface, which was pebbly, with tufts of grass andcreeping tamarisk. On the banks I observed much granite, with largemica crystals, hornstone, tourmaline, and stratified quartz, withgranite veins parallel to the foliation or lamination.

A rather steep ascent of a mile, through a contracted part of thevalley, led to another and smaller lake-bed, a quarter of a mile longand 100 yards broad, covered with patches of snow, and having nolateral valley opening into it: it faced the now stupendous masses ofsnow and ice which filled the upper part of the Yangma valley.This lake-bed (elevation, 15,186 feet) was strewed with enormousboulders; a rude stone hut stood near it, where we halted for a fewminutes at 1 p.m., when the temperature was 42.2 degrees, while thedew-point was only 20.7 degrees.* [This indicates a very dry state ofthe air, the saturation-point being 0.133 degrees; whereas, at thesame hour at Calcutta it was 0.559 degrees.] At the same time, theblack bulb thermometer, fully exposed on the snow, rose 54 degreesabove the air, and the photometer gave 10.572. Though the sun's powerwas so great, there was, however, no appearance of the snow melting,evaporation proceeding with too great rapidity.

Illustration—KANGLACHEM PASS.

Enormous piles of gravel and sand had descended upon the upper end ofthis lake-bed, forming shelves, terraces, and curving ridges,apparently consolidated by ice, and covered in many places with snow.Following the stream, we soon came to an immense moraine, whichblocked up the valley, formed of angular boulders, some of which werefifty feet high. Respiration had been difficult for some time, andthe guide we had taken from the village said we were some hours fromthe top of the pass, and could get but a little way further; wehowever proceeded, plunging through the snow, till on cresting themoraine a stupendous scene presented itself. A gulf of moraines, andenormous ridges of debris, lay at our feet, girdled by anamphitheatre of towering, snow-clad peaks, rising to 17,000 and18,000 feet all around. Black scarped precipices rose on every side;deep snow-beds and blue glaciers rolled down every gulley, convergingin the hollow below, and from each transporting its own materials,there ensued a complication of moraines, that presented no order tothe eye. In spite of their mutual interference, however, each hadraised a ridge of debris or moraine parallel to itself.

We descended with great difficulty through the soft snow that coveredthe moraine, to the bed of this gulf of snow and glaciers; and haltedby an enormous stone, above the bed of a little lake, which wassnowed all over, but surrounded by two superimposed level terraces,with sharply defined edges. The moraine formed a barrier to its nowfrozen waters, and it appeared to receive the drainage of manyglaciers, which filtered through their gravelly ridges and moraines.

We could make no further progress; the pass lay at the distance ofseveral hours' march, up a valley to the north, down which theglacier must have rolled that had deposited this great moraine; thepass had been closed since October, it being very lofty, and the headof this valley was far more snowy than that at Wallanchoon. We haltedin the snow from 3 to 4 p.m., during which time I again took anglesand observations; the height of this spot, called Pabuk, is 16,038feet, whence the pass is probably considerably over 17,000 feet, forthere was a steep ascent beyond our position. The sun sank at 3 p.m.,and the thermometer immediately fell from 35 degrees to 30.75degrees.* [At 4 o'clock, to 29.5 degrees, the average dew-point was16.3 degrees, and dryness 0.55; weight of vapour in a cubic foot,1.33 grains.]

After fixing in my note and sketch books the principal features ofthis sublime scene, we returned down the valley: the distance to ourcamp being fully eight miles, night overtook us before we gothalf-way, but a two days' old moon guided us perfectly, a remarkableinstance of the clearness of the atmosphere at these greatelevations. Lassitude, giddiness, and headache came on as ourexertions increased, and took away the pleasure I should otherwisehave felt in contemplating by moonlight the varied phenomena, whichseemed to crowd upon the restless imagination, in the different formsof mountain, glacier, moraine, lake, boulder and terrace. Happily Ihad noted everything on my way up, and left nothing intentionally tobe done on returning. In making such excursions as this, it is aboveall things desirable to seize and book every object worth noticing onthe way out: I always carried my note-book and pencil tied to myjacket pocket, and generally walked with them in my hand. It isimpossible to begin observing too soon, or to observe too much: ifthe excursion is long, little is ever done on the way home; thebodily powers being mechanically exerted, the mind seeks repose, andbeing fevered through over-exertion, it can endure no train ofthought, or be brought to bear on a subject.

During my stay at Yangma, the thermometer never rose to 50 degrees,it fell to 14.75 degrees at night; the ground was frozen for severalinches below the surface, but at two feet depth its temperature was37.5 degrees. The black bulb thermometer rose on one occasion 84degrees above the surrounding air. Before leaving, I measured byangles and a base-line the elevations of the great village-terraceabove the river, and that of a loftier one, on the west flank of themain valley; the former was about 400 and the latter 700 feet.

Considering this latter as the upper terrace, and concluding that itmarks a water level, it is not very difficult to account for itsorigin. There is every reason to suppose that the flanks of thevalley were once covered to the elevation of the upper terrace, withan enormous accumulation of debris; though it does not follow thatthe whole valley was filled by ice-action to the same depth; theeffect of glaciers being to deposit moraines between themselves andthe sides of the valley they fill; as also to push forward similaraccumulations. Glaciers from each valley, meeting at the fork, wheretheir depth would be 700 feet of ice, would both deposit thenecessary accumulation along the flanks of the great valley, and alsothrow a barrier across it. The melting waters of such glaciers wouldaccumulate in lakes, confined by the frozen earth, between themoraines and mountains. Such lakes, though on a small scale, arefound at the terminations and sides of existing glaciers, and aresurrounded by terraces of shingle and debris; these terraces beinglaid bare by the sudden drainage of the lakes during seasons ofunusual warmth. To explain the phenomena of the Yangma valley, it maybe necessary to demand larger lakes and deeper accumulations ofdebris than are now familiar to us, but the proofs of glaciers havingonce descended to from 8000 to 10,000 feet in every Sikkim and eastNepal valley communicating with mountains above 16,000 feetelevation, are overwhelming, and the glaciers must, in some cases,have been fully forty miles long, and 500 feet in depth. The absenceof any remains of a moraine, or of blocks of rock in the valley belowthe fork, is I believe, the only apparent objection to this theory;but, as I shall elsewhere have occasion to observe, the magnitude ofthe moraines bears no fixed proportion to that of the glacier, and atPabuk, the steep ridges of debris, which were heaped up 200 feethigh, were far more striking than the more usual form of moraine.

On my way up to Yangma I had rudely plotted the valley, and selectedprominent positions for improving my plan on my return: these I nowmade use of, taking bearings with the azimuth compass, and angles bymeans of a pocket sextant. The result of my running-survey of thewhole valley, from 10,000 to 16,000 feet, I have given along with asketch-map of my routes in India, which accompanies this volume.

Illustration—SKULLS OF OVIS AMMON.

CHAPTER XI

Ascend to Nango mountain — Moraines — Glaciers — Vegetation —Rhododendron Hodgsoni — Rocks — Honey-combed surface of snow —Perpetual snow — Top of pass — View — Elevation — Geology —Distance of sound — Plants — Temperature — Scenery — Cliffs ofgranite and hurled boulders — Camp — Descent — Pheasants — Larch— Himalayan pines — Distribution of Deodar, note on —Tassichooding temples — Kambachen village — Cultivation — Morainesin valley, distribution of — Picturesque lake-beds, and theirvegetation — Tibetan sheep and goats — Cryptogramma crispa —Ascent to Choonjerma pass — View of Junnoo — Rocks of its summit —Misty ocean — Nepal peaks — Top of pass — Temperature, andobservations — Gorgeous sunset — Descent to Yalloong valley —Loose path — Night scenes — Musk deer.

We passed the night a few miles below the great moraine, in apine-wood (alt. 11,000 feet) opposite the gorge which leads to theKambachen or Nango pass, over the south shoulder of the mountain ofthat name: it is situated on a ridge dividing the Yangma river fromthat of Kambachen, which latter falls into the Tambur opposite Lelyp.

The road crosses the Yangma (which is about fifteen feet wide), andimmediately ascends steeply to the south-east, over a rocky moraine,clothed with a dense thicket of rhododendrons, mountain-ash, maples,pine, birch, juniper, etc. The ground was covered with silvery flakesof birch bark, and that of Rhododendron Hodgsoni, which is asdelicate as tissue-paper, and of a pale flesh-colour. I had neverbefore met with this species, and was astonished at the beauty of itsfoliage, which was of a beautiful bright green, with leaves sixteeninches long.

Beyond the region of trees and large shrubs the alpine rhododendronsfilled the broken surface of the valley, growing with Potentilla,Honeysuckle, Polygonum, and dwarf juniper. The peak of Nango seemedto tower over the gorge, rising behind some black, splintered, rockycliffs, sprinkled with snow, narrow defiles opened up through thesecliffs to blue glaciers, and their mouths were invariably closed bybeds of shingly moraines, curving outwards from either, flank inconcentric ridges.

Towards the base of the peak, at about 14,000 feet, the scenery isvery grand; a great moraine rises suddenly to the north-west, underthe principal mass of snow and ice, and barren slopes of graveldescend from it; on either side are rugged precipices; the ground isbare and stony, with patches of brown grass: and, on looking back,the valley appears very steep to the first shrubby vegetation, ofdark green rhododendrons, bristling with ugly stunted pines.

We followed a valley to the south-east, so as to turn the flank ofthe peak; the path lying over beds of October snow at 14,000 feet,and over plashy ground, from its melting. Sometimes our way lay closeto the black precipices on our right, under which the snow was deep;and we dragged ourselves along, grasping every prominence of the rockwith our numbed fingers. Granite appeared in large veins in thecrumpled gneiss at a great elevation, in its most beautiful andloosely-crystallised form, of pearly white prisms of felspar, glassyquartz, and milk-white flat plates of mica, with occasionally largecrystals of tourmaline. Garnets were very frequent in the gneiss nearthe granite veins. Small rushes, grasses, and sedges formed theremaining vegetation, amongst which were the withered stalks ofgentians, Sedum, Arenaria, Silene, and many Composite plants.

At a little below 15,000 feet, we reached enormous flat beds of snow,which were said to be perpetual, but covered deeply with the Octoberfall. They were continuous, and like all the snow I saw at thisseason, the surface was honeycombed into thin plates, dipping northat a high angle; the intervening fissures were about six inches deep.A thick mist here overtook us, and this, with the great difficultyof picking our way, rendered the ascent very fatiguing.Being sanguine about obtaining a good view, I found it almostimpossible to keep my temper under the aggravations of pain in theforehead, lassitude, oppression of breathing, a dense drizzling fog,a keen cold wind, a slippery footing, where I was stumbling at everyfew steps, and icy-cold wet feet, hands, and eyelids; the latter, oddas it sounds, I found a very disagreeable accompaniment of continuedraw cold wind.

After an hour and a half's toilsome ascent, during which we made butlittle progress, we reached the crest, crossing a broad shelf of snowbetween two rocky eminences; the ridge was unsnowed a little way downthe east flank; this was, in a great measure, due to the easternexposure being the more sunny, to the prevalence of the warm andmelting south-east winds that blow up the deep Kambachen valley, andto the fact that the great snow-beds on the west side are driftedaccumulations.* [Such enormous beds of snow in depressions, or ongentle slopes, are generally adopted as indicating the lower limit ofperpetual snow. They are, however, winter accumulations, due mainlyto eddies of wind, of far more snow than can be melted in thefollowing summer, being hence perennial in the ordinary sense of theword. They pass into the state of glacier ice, and, obeying the lawsthat govern the motions of a viscous fluid, so admirably elucidatedby Forbes ("Travels in the Alps"), they flow downwards. A carefulexamination of those great beds of snow in the Alps, from whoseposition the mean lower level of perpetual snow, in that latitude, isdeduced, has convinced me that these are mainly due to accumulationsof this kind, and that the true limit of perpetual snow, or thatpoint where all that falls melts, is much higher than it is usuallysupposed to be.] The mist cleared off, and I had a partial, thoughlimited, view. To the north the blue ice-clad peak of Nango was still2000 feet above us, its snowy mantle falling in great sweeps andcurves into glacier-bound valleys, over which the ice streamed out ofsight, bounded by black aiguilles of gneiss. The Yangma valley wasquite hidden, but to the eastward the view across the stupendousgorge of the Kambachen, 5000 feet below, to the waste of snow, ice,and rock, piled in confusion along the top of the range of Junnoo andChoonjerma, parallel to this but higher, was very grand indeed: thiswe were to cross in two days, and its appearance was such, that ourguide doubted the possibility of our doing it. A third and fourthmountain mass (unseen) lay beyond this, between us and Sikkim,divided by valleys as deep as those of Yangma and Kambachen.

Having hung up my instruments, I ascended a few hundred feet to somenaked rocks, to the northward; they were of much-crumpled anddislocated gneiss, thrown up at a very high angle, and strikingnorth-west. Chlorite, schist, and quartz, in thin beds, alternatedwith the gneiss, and veins of granite and quartz, were injectedthrough them.

It fell calm; when the distance to which the voice was carried wasvery remarkable; I could distinctly hear every word spoken 300 to 400yards off, and did not raise my voice when I asked one of the men tobring me a hammer.

The few plants about were generally small tufted Arenarias andwoolly Compositae, with a thick-rooted Umbellifer that spread itsshort, fleshy leaves and branches flat on the ground; the root wasvery aromatic, but wedged close in the rock. The temperature at4 p.m. was 23 degrees, and bitterly cold; the elevation, 15,770 feet;dew-point, 16 degrees. The air was not very dry; saturation-point,0.670°, whereas at Calcutta it was 0.498° at the same hour.

The descent was to a broad, open valley, into which the flank ofNango dipped in tremendous precipices, which reared their heads insplintered snowy peaks. At their bases were shoots of debris fully700 feet high, sloping at a steep angle. Enormous masses of rock,detached by the action of the frost and ice from the crags, werescattered over the bottom of the valley; they had been precipitatedfrom above, and gaining impetus in their descent, bad been hurled toalmost inconceivable distances from the parent cliff. All were of avery white, fine-grained crystallised granite, full of small veins ofthe same rock still more finely crystallised. The weathered surfaceof each block was black, and covered with moss and lichens; theothers beautifully white, with clean, sharp-fractured edges.The material of which they were composed was so hard that I found itdifficult to detach a specimen.

Darkness had already come on, and the coolies being far behind, weencamped by the light of the moon, shining through a thin fog, wherewe first found dwarf-juniper for fuel, at 13,500 feet. A little sleetfell during the night, which was tolerably fine, and not very cold;the minimum thermometer indicating 14.5 degrees.

Having no tent-poles, I had some difficulty in getting my blanketsarranged as a shelter, which was done by making them slant from theside of a boulder, on the top of which one end was kept by heavystones; under this roof I laid my bed, on a mass of rhododendron andjuniper-twigs. The men did the same against other boulders, andlighting a huge fire opposite the mouth of my ground-nest, I satcross-legged on the bed to eat my supper; my face scorching, and myback freezing. Rice, boiled with a few ounces of greasy dindon auxtruffes was now my daily dinner, with chili-vinegar and tea, and Iused to relish it keenly: this finished, I smoked a cigar, and wroteup my journal (in short intervals between warming myself) by thelight of the fire; took observations by means of a dark-lantern; andwhen all this was accomplished, I went to roost.

December 5.—On looking out this morning, it was with a feeling ofawe that I gazed at the stupendous ice-crowned precipices that shotup to the summit of Nango, their flanks spotted white at the placeswhence the gigantic masses with which I was surrounded had fallen;thence my eye wandered down their black faces to the slope of debrisat the bottom, thus tracing the course which had probably been takenby that rock under whose shelter I had passed the previous night.

Meepo, the Lepcha sent by the rajah, had snared a couple of beautifulpheasants, one of which I skinned, and ate for breakfast; it is asmall bird, common above 12,000 feet, but very wild; the male has twoto five spurs on each of its legs, according to its age; the generalcolour is greenish, with a broad scarlet patch surrounding the eye;the Nepalese name is "Khalidge." The crop was distended with juniperberries, of which the flesh tasted strongly, and it was the veryhardest, toughest bird I ever did eat.

We descended at first through rhododendron and juniper, then throughblack silver-fir (Abies Webbiana), and below that, near the river,we came to the Himalayan larch; a tree quite unknown, except from anotice in the journals of Mr. Griffith, who found it in Bhotan. It isa small tree, twenty to forty feet high, perfectly similar in generalcharacters to a European larch, but with larger cones, which areerect upon the very long, pensile, whip-like branches; itsleaves,—now red—were falling, and covering the rocky ground onwhich it grew, scattered amongst other trees. It is called "Saar" bythe Lepchas and Cis-himalayan Tibetans, and "Boarga-sella" by theNepalese, who say it is found as far west as the heads of the Cosiriver: it does not inhabit Central or West Nepal, nor the North-westHimalaya. The distribution of the Himalayan pines is very remarkable.The Deodar has not been seen east of Nepal, nor the PinusGerardiana, Cupressus torulosa, or Juniperus communis. On theother hand, Podocarpus is confined to the east of Katmandoo. AbiesBrunoniana does not occur west of the Gogra, nor the larch west ofthe Cosi, nor funereal cypress (an introduced plant, however) west ofthe Teesta (in Sikkim). Of the twelve* [Juniper, 3; yew, AbiesWebbiana, Brunoniana, and Smithiana: Larch, Pinus excelsa, andlongifolia, and Podocarpus neriifolia.] Sikkim and BhotanConiferae (including yew, junipers, and Podocarpus) eight arecommon to the North-west Himalaya (west of Nepal), and four* [Larch,Cupressus funebris, Podocarpus neriifolia, Abies Brunoniana.] arenot: of the thirteen natives of the north-west provinces, again, onlyfive* [A juniper (the European communis), Deodar (possibly only avariety of the Cedar of Lebanon and of Mount Atlas), PinusGerardiana, P. excelsa, and Crupressus torulosa.] are not found inSikkim, and I have given their names below, because they show howEuropean the absent ones are, either specifically or in affinity.I have stated that the Deodar is possibly a variety of the Cedar ofLebanon. This is now a prevalent opinion, which is strengthened bythe fact that so many more Himalayan plants are now ascertained to beEuropean than had been supposed before they were compared withEuropean specimens; such are the yew, Juniperus communis, Berberisvulgaris, Quercus Ballota, Populus alba and Euphratica, etc.The cones of the Deodar are identical with those of the Cedar ofLebanon: the Deodar has, generally longer and more pale bluish leavesand weeping branches,* [Since writing the above, I have seen, in themagnificent Pinetum at Dropmore, noble cedars, with the length andhue of leaf, and the pensile branches of the Deodar, and far morebeautiful than that is, and as unlike the common Lebanon Cedar aspossible. When it is considered from how very few wild trees (andthese said to be exactly alike) the many dissimilar varieties of theC. Libani have been derived; the probability of this, the Cedar ofAlgiers, and of the Himalayas (Deodar) being all forms of onespecies, is greatly increased. We cannot presume to judge from thefew cedars which still remain, what the habit and appearance of thetree may have been, when it covered the slopes of Libanus, and seeinghow very variable Coniferae are in habit, we may assume that itssurviving specimens give us no information on this head. Should allthree prove one, it will materially enlarge our ideas of thedistribution and variation of species. The botanist will insist thatthe typical form of cedar is that which retains its characters bestover the greatest area, namely, the Deodar; in which case theprejudice of the ignorant, and the preconceived ideas of thenaturalist, must yield to the fact that the old familiar Cedar ofLebanon is an unusual variety of the Himalayan Deodar.] but thesecharacters seem to be unusually developed in our gardens; for severalgentlemen, well acquainted with the Deodar at Simla, when asked topoint it out in the Kew Gardens, have indicated the Cedar of Lebanon,and when shown the Deodar, declare that they never saw that plant inthe Himalaya!

At the bottom of the valley we turned up the stream, and passing theTassichooding convents* [These were built by the Sikkim people, whenthe eastern valleys of Nepal belonged to the Sikkim rajah.] andtemple, crossed the river—which was a furious torrent, about twelveyards wide—to the village of Kambachen, on a flat terrace a few feetabove the stream. There were about a dozen houses of wood, plasteredwith mud and dung, scattered over a grassy plain of a few acres,fenced in, as were also a few fields, with stone dykes. The onlycultivation consists of radishes, potatos, and barley: no wheat isgrown, the climate being said to be too cold for it, by which isprobably meant that it is foggy,—the elevation (11,380 feet) being2000 feet less than that of Yangma village, and the temperaturetherefore 6 degrees to 7 degrees warmer; but of all the mountaingorges I have ever visited, this is by far the wildest, grandest, andmost gloomy; and that man should hybernate here is indeedextraordinary, for there is no route up the valley, and allcommunication with Lelyp,* [Which I passed, on the Tambur, on the21st Nov. See Chapter IX.] two marches down the river, is cut off inwinter, when the houses are buried in snow, and drifts fifteen feetdeep are said to be common. Standing on the little flat of Kambachen,precipices, with inaccessible patches of pine wood, appeared to thewest, towering over head; while across the narrow valley wilder andless wooded crags rose in broken ridges to the glaciers of Nango.Up the valley, the view was cut off by bluff cliffs; whilst down it,the scene was most remarkable: enormous black, round-backed moraines,rose, tier above tier, from a flat lake-bed, apparently hemming inthe river between the lofty precipices on the east flank of thevalley. These had all been deposited at the mouth of a lateralvalley, opening just below the village, and descending from Junnoo, amountain of 25,312 feet elevation, and one of the grandest of theKinchinjunga group, whose top—though only five miles distant in astraight line—rises 13,932 feet* [This is one of the most suddenslopes in this part of the Himalaya, the angle between the top ofJunnoo and Kambachen being 2786 feet per mile, or 1 in 1.8. The slopefrom the top of Mont Blanc to the Chamouni valley is 2464 feet permile, or 1 in 2.1. That from Monte Rosa top to Macugnaga greatlyexceeds either.] above the village. Few facts show more decidedly theextraordinary steepness and depth of the Kambachen valley near thevillage, which, though nearly 11,400 feet above the sea, lies betweentwo mountains only eight miles apart, the one 25,312 feet high, theother (Nango), 19,000 feet.

The villagers received us very kindly, and furnished us with a guidefor the Choonjerma pass, leading to the Yalloong valley, the mosteasterly in Nepal; but he recommended our not attempting any part ofthe ascent till the morrow, as it was past 1 p.m., and we should findno camping-ground for half the way up. The villagers gave us the legof a musk deer, and some red potatos, about as big as walnuts—allthey could spare from their winter-stock. With this scanty additionto our stores we started down the valley, for a few miles alternatelyalong flat lake-beds and over moraines, till we crossed the streamfrom the lateral valley, and ascending a little, camped on its bank,at 11,400 feet elevation.

In the afternoon I botanized amongst the moraines, which were verynumerous, and had been thrown down at right-angles to the mainvalley, which latter being here very narrow, and bounded by loftyprecipices, must have stopped the parent glaciers, and effected theheaping of some of these moraines to at least 1000 feet above theriver. The general features were modifications of those seen in theYangma valley, but contracted into a much smaller space.

The moraines were all accumulated in a sort of delta, through whichthe lateral river debouched into the Kambachen, and were alldeposited more or less parallel to the course of the lateral valley,but curving outwards from its mouth. The village-flat, or terrace,continued level to the first moraine, which had been thrown down onthe upper or north side of the lateral valley, on whose and curvingsteep flanks it abutted, and curving outwards seemed to encircle thevillage-flat on the south and west; where it dipped into the river.This was crossed at the height of about 100 feet, by a stony path,leading to the bed of the rapid torrent flowing through shingle andboulders, beyond which was another moraine, 250 feet high, andparallel to it a third gigantic one.

Ascending the great moraine at a place where it overhung the mainriver, I had a good coup-a'oeil of the whole. The view south-eastup the glacial valley—(represented in the accompanying cut)—to thesnowy peaks south of Junnoo, was particularly grand, and mostinteresting from the precision with which one great distant existingglacier was marked by two waving parallel lines of lateral moraines,which formed, as it were, a vast raised gutter, or channel, ascendingfrom perhaps 16,000 feet elevation, till it was hidden behind a spurin the valley. With a telescope I could descry many similar smallerglaciers, with huge accumulations of shingle at their terminations;but this great one was beautifully seen by the naked eye, and formeda very curious feature in the landscape.

Illustration—ANCIENT MORAINES IN THE RAMBACHEN VALLEY.

Between the moraines, near my tent, the soil was perfectly level,and consisted of little lake-beds strewn with gigantic boulders, andcovered with hard turf of grass and sedge, and little bushes of dwarfrhododendron and prostrate juniper, as trim as if they had beenclipped. Altogether these formed the most picturesque little nooks itwas possible to conceive; and they exhibited the withered remains ofso many kinds of primrose, gentian, anemone, potentilla, orchis,saxifrage, parnassia, campanula, and pedicularis, that in summer theymust be perfect gardens of wild flowers. Around each plot of a fewacres was the grand ice-transported girdle of stupendous rocks, manyfrom 50 to 100 feet long, crested with black tabular-branched silverfirs, conical deep green tree-junipers, and feathery larches; whilstamongst the blocks grew a profusion of round masses of evergreenrhododendron bushes. Beyond were stupendous frowning cliffs, beneathwhich the river roared like thunder; and looking up the glacialvalley, the setting sun was bathing the expanse of snow in the mostdelicate changing tints, pink, amber, and gold.

The boulders forming the moraine were so enormous and angular, that Ihad great difficulty in ascending it. I saw some pheasants feeding onthe black berries of the juniper, but where the large rhododendronsgrew amongst the rocks I found it impossible to penetrate.The largest of the moraines is piled to upwards of 1000 feet againstthe south flank of the lateral valley, and stretched far up it beyondmy camp, which was in a grove of silver firs. A large flock of sheepand goats, laden with salt, overtook us here on their route fromWallanchoon to Yalloong. The sheep I observed to feed on theRhododendron Thomsoni and _campylocarpum. On the roots of one ofthe latter species a parasitical Broom-rape (Orobanche) grewabundantly; and about the moraines were more mosses, lichens, etc.,than I have elsewhere seen in the loftier Himalaya, encouraged nodoubt by the dampness of this grand mountain gorge, which is sohemmed in that the sun never reaches it until four or five hoursafter it has gilded the overhanging peaks.

December 5.—The morning was bright and clear, and we left earlyfor the Choonjerma pass. I had hoped the route would be up themagnificent glacier-girdled valley in which we had encamped; but itlay up another, considerably south of it, and to which we crossed,ascending the rocky moraine, in the clefts of which grew abundance ofa common Scotch fern, Cryptogramma crispa!

The clouds early commenced gathering, and it was curious to watchtheir rapid formation in coalescing streaks, which became firstcirrhi, and then stratus, being apparently continually added to frombelow by the moisture-bringing southerly wind. Ascending a loftyspur, 1000 feet above the valley, against which the moraine wasbanked, I found it to be a distinct anticlinal axis. The pass,bearing north-west, and the valley we had descended on the previousday, rose immediately over the curved strata of quartz, topped by theglacier-crowned mountain of Nango, with four glaciers descending fromits perpetual snows. The stupendous cliffs on its flanks, under whichI had camped on the previous night, were very grand, but not more sothan those which dipped into the chasm of the Kambachen below.Looking up the valley of the latter, was another wilderness of icefull of enormous moraines, round the bases of which the river wound.

Ascending, we reached an open grassy valley, and overtook theTibetans who had preceded us, and who had halted here to feed theirsheep. A good-looking girl of the party came to ask me for medicinefor her husband's eyes, which had suffered from snow-blindness: shebrought me a present of snuff, and carried a little child, starknaked, yet warm from the powerful rays of the sun, at nearly 14,000feet elevation, in December! I prescribed for the man, and gave themother a bright farthing to hang round the child's neck, whichdelighted the party. My watch was only wondered at; but a littlespring measuring-tape that rolled itself up, struck them dumb, andwhen I threw it on the ground with the tape out, the mother shriekedand ran away, while the little savage howled after her.

Above, the path up the ascent was blocked with snowbeds, and forseveral miles we alternately scrambled among rocks and over slipperyslopes, to the top of the first ridge, there being two to cross.The first consisted of a ridge of rocks running east and west from asuperb sweep of snowy mountains to the north-west, which presented achaotic scene of blue glacial ice and white snow, through whichsplintered rocks and beetling crags thrust their black heads.The view into the Kambachen gorge was magnificent, though it did notreveal the very bottom of the valley and its moraines: the blackprecipices of its opposite flank seemed to rise to the glaciers ofNango, fore-shortened into snow-capped precipices 5000 feet high,amongst which lay the Kambachen pass, bearing north-west by north.Lower down the valley, appeared a broad flat, called Jubla, ahalting-place one stage below the village of Kambachen, on the roadto Lelyp on the Tambur: it must be a remarkable geological as well asnatural feature, fao it appeared to jut abruptly and quitehorizontally from the black cliffs of the valley.

Looking north, the conical head of Junnoo was just scattering themists from its snowy shoulders, and standing forth to view, the mostmagnificent spectacle I ever beheld. It was quite close to me,bearing north-east by east, and subtending an angle of 12 degrees 23,and is much the steepest and most conical of all the peaks of theseregions. From whichever side it is viewed, it rises 9000 feet abovethe general mountain mass of 16,000 feet elevation, towering like ablunt cone, with a short saddle on one side, that dips in a steepcliff: it appeared as if uniformly snowed, from its rocks above20,000 feet (like those of Kinchinjunga) being of white granite, andnot contrasting with the snow. Whether the top is stratified or not,I cannot tell, but waving parallel lines are very conspicuous nearit, as shown in the accompanying view.* [The appearance of MontCervin, from the Riffelberg, much reminded me of that of Junnoo, fromthe Choonjerma pass, the former bearing the same relation to MonteRosa that the latter does to Kinchinjunga. Junnoo, thoughincomparably the more stupendous mass, not only rising 10,000 feathigher above the sea, but towering 4000 feet higher above the ridgeon which it is supported, is not nearly so remarkable in outline, sosharp, or so peaked as is Mount Cervin: it is a very much grander,but far less picturesque object. The whiteness of the sides of Junnooadds also greatly to its apparent altitude; while the strong reliefin which the black cliffs of Mont Cervin protrude through its snowymantle greatly diminish both its apparent height and distance.]

Illustration—JUNNOO 24,000 FT. FROM CHOONJERMA PASS 16,000 FT. EAST
NEPAL.

Looking south as evening drew on, another wonderful spectaclepresented itself, similar to that which I described at Sakkiazung,but displayed here on an inconceivably grander scale, with all theeffects exaggerated. I saw a sea of mist floating 3000 feet beneathme, just below the upper level of the black pines; the magnificentspurs of the snowy range which I had crossed rising out of it inrugged grandeur as promontories and peninsulas, between which themisty ocean seemed to finger up like the fiords of Norway, or thesalt-water lochs of the west of Scotland; whilst islets tailed offfrom the promontories, rising here and there out of the deceptiveelements. I was so high above this mist, that it had not the billowyappearance I saw before, but was a calm unruffled ocean, boundless tothe south and west, where the horizon over-arched it. A little to thenorth of west I discerned the most lofty group of mountains in Nepal*[Called Tsungau by the Bhoteeas. Junnoo is called Kumbo Kurma by theHill-men of Nepal.] (mentioned at Chapter VIII), beyond Kinchinjurga,which I believe are on the west flank of the great valley throughwhich the Arun river enters Nepal from Tibet: they were very distant,and subtended so small an angle, that I could not measure them withthe sextant and artificial horizon their height, judging from thequantity of snow, must be prodigious.

From 4 to 5 p.m. the temperature was 24 degrees, with a very coldwind; the elevation by the barometer was 15,260 feet, and thedew-point 10.5 degrees, giving the humidity 0.610, and the amount ofvapour 1.09 grains in a cubic foot of air; the same elements atCalcutta, at the same hour, being thermometer 66.5 degrees, dew-point60.5 degrees, humidity 0.840, and weight of vapour 5.9 grains.

I waited for an hour, examining the rocks about the pass, till thecoolies should come up, but saw nothing worthy of remark, the naturalhistory and geology being identical with those of Kambachen pass: Ithen bade adieu to the sublime and majestic peak of Junnoo. Thence wecontinued at nearly the same level for about four miles, dipping intothe broad head of a snowy valley, and ascending to the second pass,which lay to the south-east.

On the left I passed a very curious isolated pillar of rock, amongstthe wild crags to the north-east, whose bases we skirted: itresembles the Capuchin on the shoulder of Mont Blanc, as seen fromthe Jardin. Evening overtook us while still on the snow near the lastascent. As the sun declined, the snow at our feet reflected the mostexquisitely delicate peach-bloom hue; and looking west from the topof the pass, the scenery was gorgeous beyond description, for the sunwas just plunging into a sea of mist, amongst some cirrhi andstratus, all in a blaze of the ruddiest coppery hue. As it sank, theNepal, peaks to the right assumed more definite, darker, and giganticforms, and floods of light shot across the misty ocean, bathing thelandscape around me in the most wonderful and indescribable changingtints. As the luminary was vanishing, the whole horizon glowed likecopper run from a smelting furnace, and when it had quitedisappeared, the little inequalities of the ragged edges of the mistwere lighted up and shone like a row of volcanos in the far distance.I have never before or since seen anything, which for sublimity,beauty, and marvellous effects, could compare with what I gazed onthat evening from Choonjerma pass. In some of Turner's pictures Ihave recognized similar effects, caught and fixed by a marvellouseffort of genius; such are the fleeting hues over the ice, in his"Whalers," and the ruddy fire in his "Wind, Steam, and Rain," whichone almost fears to touch. Dissolving views give some idea of themagic creation and dispersion of the effects, but any combination ofscience and art can no more recall the scene, than it can thefeelings of awe that crept over me, during the hour I spent insolitude amongst these stupendous mountains.

The moon guided us on our descent, which was to the south, obliquelyinto the Yalloong valley. I was very uneasy about the coolies, whowere far behind, and some of them had been frost-bitten in crossingthe Kambachen pass. Still I thought the best thing was to push on,and light large fires at the first juniper we should reach.The change, on passing from off the snow to the dark earth and rock,was so bewildering, that I had great difficulty in picking my way.Suddenly we came on a flat with a small tarn, whose waters gleamedillusively in the pale moonlight: the opposite flanks of the valleywere so well reflected on its gloomy surface, that we were at oncebrought to a stand-still on its banks: it looked like a chasm, andwhether to jump across it, or go down it, or along it, was thequestion, so deceptive was the spectral landscape. Its true naturewas, however, soon discovered, and we proceeded round it, descending.Of course there was no path, and after some perplexity amongst rocksand ravines, we reached the upper limit of wood, and halted by somebleached juniper-trees, which were soon converted into blazing fires.

I wandered away from my party to listen for the voices of the men whohad lingered behind, about whom I was still more anxious, from thevery great difficulty they would encounter if, as we did, they shouldget off the path. The moon was shining clearly in the black heavens;and its bright light, with the pale glare of the surrounding snow,obscured the milky way, and all the smaller stars; whilst the planetsappeared to glow with broader orbs than elsewhere, and the greatstars flashed steadily and periodically.

Deep black chasms seemed to yawn below, and cliffs rose on all sides,except down the valley, where looking across the Yalloong river, asteep range of mountains rose, seamed with torrents that were justvisible like threads of silver coursing down broad landslips. It wasa dead calm, and nothing broke the awful silence but the low hoarsemurmur of many torrents, whose mingled voices rose and fell as ifwith the pulsations of the atmosphere; the undulations of whichappeared thus to be marked by the ear alone. Sometimes it was thefaintest possible murmur, and then it rose swelling and filling theair with sound: the effect was that of being raised from the earth'ssurface, and again lowered to it; or that of waters advancing andretiring. In such scenes and with such accompaniments, the mindwanders from the real to the ideal, the larger and brighter lamps ofheaven lead us to imagine that we have risen from the surface of ourglobe and are floating through the regions of space, and that theceaseless murmur of the waters is the Music of the Spheres.

Contemplation amid such soothing sounds and impressive scenes is veryseductive, and withal very dangerous, for the temperature was atfreezing-point, my feet and legs were wet through, and it was wellthat I was soon roused from my reveries by the monosyllabicexclamations of my coolies. They were quite knocked up, and camealong grunting, and halting every minute to rest, by supporting theirloads, still hanging to their backs, on their stout staves. I hadstill one bottle of brandy left, with which to splice the main brace.It had been repeatedly begged for in vain, and being no longerexpected, was received with unfeigned joy. Fortunately with thesepeople a little spirits goes a long way, and I kept half forfuture emergencies.

We camped at 13,290 feet, the air was calm and mild to the feeling,though the temperature fell to 22.75 degrees. On the followingmorning we saw two musk-deer,* [There are two species of musk-deer inthe Himalaya, besides the Tibetan kind, which appears identical withthe Siberian animal originally described by Pallas.] called"Kosturah" by the mountaineers. The musk, which hangs in a pouch nearthe navel of the male, is the well-known object of traffic withBengal. This creature ranges between 8000 and 13,000 feet, on theHimalaya, often scenting the air for many hundred yards. It is apretty grey animal, the size of a roebuck, and something resemblingit, with coarse fur, short horns, and two projecting teeth from theupper jaw, said to be used in rooting up the aromatic herbs fromwhich the Bhoteeas believe that it derives the odour of musk. This Imuch doubt, because the animal never frequents those very loftyregions where the herbs supposed to provide the scent are found, norhave I ever seen signs of any having been so rooted up.The Delphinium glaciale smells strongly and disagreeably of musk,but it is one of the most alpine plants in the world, growing at anelevation of 17,000 feet, far above the limits of the Kosturah.The female and young male are very good eating, much better than anyIndian venison I ever tasted, being sweet and tender. Mr. Hodgsononce kept a female alive, but it was very wild, and continued so aslong as I knew it. Two of my Lepchas gave chase to these animals, andfired many arrows in vain after them: these people are fond ofcarrying a bow, but are very poor shots.

We descended 3000 feet to the deep valley of the Yalloong river whichruns west-by-south to the Tambur, from between Junnoo and Kubra: thepath was very bad, over quartz, granite, and gneiss, which cut theshoes and feet severely. The bottom of the valley, which is elevated10,450 feet, was filled with an immense accumulation of angulargravel and debris of the above rocks, forming on both sides of theriver a terrace 400 feet above the stream, which flowed in a furioustorrent. The path led over this deposit for a good many miles, andvaried exceedingly in height, in some places being evidentlyincreased by landslips, and at others apparently by moraines.

Illustration—TIBETAN CHARM-BOX.

CHAPTER XII.

Yalloong valley — Fiud Kanglanamo pass closed — Change route forthe southward — Picrorhiza — View of Kubra — RhododendronFalconeri — Yalloong river — Junction of gneiss and clay-slate —Cross Yalloong range — View — Descent — Yew — Vegetation — Mistyweather — Tongdam village — Khabang — Tropical vegetation —Sidingbah Mountain — View of Kinchinjunga — Yangyading village —Slopes of hills, and courses of rivers — Khabili valley — (GhorkhaHavildar's bad conduct — Ascend Singalelah — Plague of ticks —Short commons — Cross Islumbo pass — Boundary of Sikkim — Kulhaitvalley — Lingeham — Reception by Kajee — Hear of Dr. Campbell'sgoing to meet Rajah — Views in valley — Leave for Teesta river —Tipsy Kajee — Hospitality — Murwa beer — Temples — AcorusCalamus — Long Mendong — Burning of dead — Superstitions — CrossGreat Rungeet — Boulders, origin of — Purchase of a dog — Marshes— Lamas — Dismiss Ghorkhas — Bhoteea house — Murwa beer.

On arriving at the bottom we found a party who were travelling withsheep laden with salt; they told us that the Yalloong village, whichlay up the valley on the route to the Kanglanamo pass (leading overthe south shoulder of Kubra into Sikkim) was deserted, theinhabitants having retired after the October fall of snow toYankutang, two marches down; also that the Kanglanamo pass wasimpracticable, being always blocked up by the October fall. I was,therefore, reluctantly obliged to abandon the plan of pursuing thatroute to Sikkim, and to go south, following the west flank ofSingalelah to the first of the many passes over it which I mightfind open.

These people were very civil, and gave me a handful of the root ofone of the many bitter herbs called in Bengal "Teeta," and used as afebrifuge: the present was that of Picrorhiza, a plant allied toSpeedwell, which grows at from 12,000 to 15,000 feet elevation, andis a powerful bitter, called "Hoonling" by the Tibetans. They hadwith them above 100 sheep, of a tall, long-legged, Roman-nosed breed.Each carried upwards of forty pounds of salt, done up in two leatherbags, slung on either side, and secured by a band going over thechest, and another round the loins, so that they cannot slip off,when going up or down hill. These sheep are very tame, patientcreatures, travelling twelve miles a day with great ease, and beingindifferent to rocky or steep ground.

Looking east I had a splendid view of the broad snowy mass of Kubra,blocking up, as it were, the head of the valley with a white screen.Descending to about 10,000 feet, the Abies Brunoniana appeared,with fine trees of Rhododendron Falconeri forty feet high, and withleaves nineteen inches long! while the upper part of the valley wasfull of Abies Webbiana.

At the elevation of 9000 feet, we crossed to the east bank, andpassed the junction of the gneiss and mica slate: the latter crossedthe river, striking north-west, and the stream cut a dark chasm-likechannel through it, foaming and dashing the spray over the splinteredridges, and the broad water-worn hog-backed masses that projectedfrom its bed. Immense veins of granite permeated the rocks, whichwere crumpled in the strangest manner: isolated angular blocks ofschist had been taken up by the granite in a fluid state, andremained imbedded in it.

The road made great ascents to avoid landslips, and to surmount theenormous piles of debris which encumber this valley more than anyother. We encamped at 10,050 feet, on a little flat 1000 feet abovethe bed of the river, and on its east flank. A Hydrangea was thecommon small wood, but Abies Webbiana formed the forest, with greatRhododendrons. The weather was foggy, whence I judged that we were inthe sea of mist I saw beneath me from the passes; the temperature,considering the elevation, was mild, 37 degrees and 38 degrees, whichwas partly due to the evolution of heat that accompanies thecondensation of these vapours, the atmosphere being loaded withmoisture. The thermometer fell to 28 degrees during the night, and inthe morning the ground was thickly covered with hoar-frost.

_December 7.—We ascended the Yalloong ridge to a saddle 11,000 feetelevation, whence the road dips south to the gloomy gorges of theeastern feeders of the Tambur. Here we bade adieu to the grand alpinescenery, and for several days our course lay in Nepal in a southerlydirection, parallel to Singalelah, and crossing every spur and riversent off by that mighty range. The latter flow towards the Tambur,and their beds, for forty or fifty miles are elevated about 3000 or4000 feet. Few of the spurs are ascended above 5000 feet, but all ofthem rise to 12,000 or 14,000 feet to the westward, where they jointhe Singalelah range.

I clambered to the top of a lofty hummock, through a dense thicket ofinterwoven Rhododendron bushes, the clayey soil under which wasslippery from the quantity of dead leaves. I had hoped for a view ofthe top of Kinchinjunga, which bore north-east, but it was envelopedin clouds, as were all the snows in that direction; to thenorth-west, however, I obtained bearings of the principal peaks,etc., of the Yangma and Kambachen valleys. To the south andsouth-east, lofty, rugged and pine-clad mountains rose in confusedmasses, and white sheets of mist came driving up, clinging to themountain-tops, and shrouding the landscape with extreme rapidity.The remarkable mountain of Sidingbah bore south-south-east, raisingits rounded head above the clouds. I could, however, procure noother good bearing.

The descent from the Yalloong ridge to the Khabili feeders of theTambur was very steep, and in some places almost precipitous, firstthrough dense woods of silver fir, with Rhod. Falconeri andHodgsoni, then through Abies Brunoniana, with yew (now coveredwith red berries) to the region of Magnolias and Rhod. arboreum andbarbatum. One bush of the former was in flower, making a gorgeousshow. Here also appeared the great oak with lamellated acorns, whichI had not seen in the drier valleys to the westward; with many otherDorjiling trees and shrubs. A heavy mist clung to the rank luxuriantfoliage, tantalizing from its obscuring all the view. Mica schistreplaced the gneiss, and a thick slippery stratum of clay rendered itvery difficult to keep one's footing. After so many days of brightsunshine and dry weather, I found this quiet, damp, foggy atmosphereto have a most depressing effect: there was little to interest in themeteorology, the atmospheric fluctuations being far too small;geographical discovery was at an end, and we groped our way alongdevious paths in wooded valleys, or ascended spurs and ridges, alwaysclouded before noon, and clothed with heavy forest.

At 6000 feet we emerged from the mist, and found ourselves clamberingdown a deep gully, hemmed in by frightful rocky steeps, which exposeda fine and tolerably continuous section of schistose rocks, strikingnorth-west, and dipping north-east, at a very high angle.

At the bottom three furious torrents met: we descended the course ofone of them, over slanting precipices, or trees lashed to the rocks,and after a most winding course our path conducted us to the villageof Tarbu, high above a feeder of the Khabili river, which flows west,joining the Tambur three days' march lower down. Having no food, wehad made a very long and difficult march to this place, but findingnone here, proceeded on to Tonghem village on the Khabili, descendingthrough thickets of Rhod. arboreum to the elevation of 5,560.

This village, or spur, called "Tonghem" by the Limboos, and"Yankutang" by the Bhoteeas, is the winter resort of the inhabitantsof the upper Yalloong valley: they received us very kindly, sold ustwo fowls, and rice enough to last for one or two days, which was allthey could spare, and gave me a good deal of information. I foundthat the Kanglanamo pass had been disused since the Nepal war, thatit was very lofty, and always closed in October.

The night was fine, clear, and warm, but the radiation so powerfulthat the grass was coated with ice the following morning, though thethermometer did not fall below 33 degrees. The next day the sun rosewith great power, and the vegetation reeked and steamed with theheat. Crossing the river, we first made a considerable descent, andthen ascended a ridge to 5,750 feet, through a thick jungle ofCamellia, Eurya, and small oak: from the top I obtained bearings ofYalloong and Choonjerma pass, and had also glimpses of the Kinchinrange through a tantalizing jungle; after which a very winding andfatiguing up-and-down march southwards brought us to the village ofKhabang, in the magnificent valley of the Tawa, about 800 feet abovethe river, and 5,500 feet above the sea.

I halted here for a day, to refresh the people, and if possible toobtain some food. I hoped, too, to find a pass into Sikkim, eastover Singalelah, but was disappointed: if there had ever been one, ithad been closed since the Nepal war; and there was none, for severalmarches further south, which would conduct us to the Iwa branch ofthe Khabili.

Khabang is a village of Geroongs, or shepherds, who pasture theirflocks on the hills and higher valleys during summer, and bring themdown to this elevation in winter: the ground was consequentlyinfested with a tick, equal in size to that so common in the bushes,and quite as troublesome, but of a different species.

The temperature rose to 72 degrees, and the black-bulb thermometer to140 degrees. Magnolias and various almost tropical trees were common,and the herbaceous vegetation was that of low elevations.Large sugar-cane (Saccharum), palm (Wallichia), and wildplantains grew near the river, and Rhod. arboreum was very commonon dry slopes of mica-slate rocks, with the gorgeous andsweet-scented Luculia gratissima.

Up the valley of the Tawa the view was very grand of a magnificentrocky mountain called Sidingbah, bearing south-east by south, on aspur of the Singalelah range that runs westerly, and forms the southflank of the Tawa, and the north of the Khabili valleys.This mountain is fully 12,000 feet high, crested with rock and raggedblack forest, which, on the north flank, extends to its base: to theeastward, the bare ridges of Singalelah were patched with snow, belowwhich they too were clothed with black pines.

From the opposite side of the Tawa to Khabang (alt. 6,020 feet), Iwas, during our march southwards, most fortunate in obtaining asplendid view of Kinchinjunga (bearing north-east by north), with itsassociates, rising over the dark mass of Singalelah, its flanksshowing like tier above tier of green glaciers: its distance wasfully twenty-five miles, and as only about 7000 feet or 8000 feetfrom its summit were visible, and Kubra was foreshortened against it,its appearance was not grand; added to which, its top was round andhummocky, not broken into peaks, as when seen from the south andeast. Villages and cultivation became more frequent as we proceededsouthward, and our daily marches were up ridges, and down into deepvalleys, with feeders from the flanks of Sidingbah to the Tambur.We passed through the village of Tchonboong, and camped at Yangyading(4,100 feet), sighted Yamroop, a large village and military post tothe west of our route, crossed the Pangwa river, and reached thevalley of the Khabili. During this part of the journey, I did notonce see the Tambur river, though I was day after day marching onlyseven to ten miles distant from it, so uneven is the country.The mountains around Taptiatok, Mywa Guola, and Chingtam, werepointed out to me, but they presented no recognizable feature.

I often looked for some slope, or strike of the slopes of the spurs,in any one valley, or that should prevail through several, but couldseldom trace any, except on one or two occasions, at low elevations.Looking here across the valleys, there was a tendency in the gentleslopes of the spurs to have plane faces dipping north-east, and to bebounded by a line of cliffs striking north-west, and facing thesouth-east. In such arrangements, the upheaved cliffs may be supposedto represent parallel lines of faults, dislocation, or rupture, but Icould never trace any secondary valleys at right angles to these.There is no such uniformity of strike as to give to the rivers azig-zag course of any regularity, or one having any apparentdependence on a prevailing arrangement of the rocks; for, though thestrike of the chlorite and clay-slate at elevations below 6000 feetalong its course, is certainly north-west, with a dip to north-east,the flexures of the river, as projected on the map, deviate verywidely from these directions.

The valley of the Khabili is very grand, broad, open, and intersectedby many streams and cultivated spurs: the road from Yamroop toSikkim, once well frequented, runs up its north flank, and though itwas long closed we determined to follow and clear it.

On the 11th of December we camped near the village of Sablakoo (4,680feet), and procured five days' food, to last us as far as the firstSikkim village. Thence we proceeded eastward up the valley, butdescending to the Iwa, an affluent of the Khabili, through a tropicalvegetation of Pinus longifolia, Phyllanthus Emblica, dwarfdate-palm, etc. Gneiss was here the prevailing rock, uniformlydipping north-east 20 degrees, and striking north-west. The same rockno doubt forms the mass Sidingbah, which reared its head 8000 feetabove the Iwa river, by whose bed we camped at 3,780 feet. Sand-fliesabounded, and were most troublesome: troops of large monkeys wereskipping about, and the whole scene was thoroughly tropical; still,the thermometer fell to 38 degrees in the night, with heavy dew.

Though we passed numerous villages, I found unusual difficulty ingetting provision, and received none of the presents so uniformlybrought by the villagers to a stranger. I was not long indiscovering, to my great mortification, that these were appropriatedby the Ghorkha Havildar, who seemed to have profited by our many daysof short allowance, and diverted the current of hospitality from meto himself. His coolies I saw groaning under heavy burdens, whenthose of my people were light; and the truth only came out when hehad the impudence to attempt to impose a part of his coolies' loadson mine, to enable the former to carry more food, whilst he waspretending that he used every exertion to procure me a scanty supplyof rice with my limited stock of money. I had treated this man andhis soldiers with the utmost kindness, even nursing them and clothingthem from my own stock of flannels, when sick and shivering amongstthe snows. Though a high caste Hindoo, and one who assumed Brahminrank, he had, I found, no objection to eat forbidden things insecret; and now that we were travelling amongst Hindoos, his casteobtained him everything, while money alone availed me. I took himroundly to task for his treachery, which caused him secretly to throwaway a leg of mutton he had concealed; I also threatened to exposethe humbug of his pretension to caste, but it was then too late toprocure more food. Having hitherto much liked this man, and fullytrusted him, I was greatly pained by his conduct.

We proceeded east for three days, up the valley, through gloomyforests of tropical trees below 5000 feet; and ascended to oaks andmagnolias at 6000 feet. The path was soon obstructed, and we had totear and cut our way, from 6000 to 10,000 feet, which took two days'very hard work. Ticks swarmed in the small bamboo jungle, and my bodywas covered with these loathsome insects, which got into my bed andhair, and even attached themselves to my eyelids during the night,when the constant annoyance and irritation completely banished sleep.In the daytime they penetrated my trousers, piercing to my body inmany places, so that I repeatedly took off as many as twelve at onetime. It is indeed marvellous how so large an insect can painlesslyinsert a stout barbed proboscis, which requires great force toextract it, and causes severe smarting in the operation. What theticks feed upon in these humid forests is a perfect mystery to me,for from 6000 to 9000 feet they literally swarmed, where there wasneither path nor animal life. They were, however, more tolerable thana commoner species of parasite, which I found it impossible to escapefrom, all classes of mountaineers being infested with it.

On the 14th, after an arduous ascent through the pathless jungle, wecamped at 9,300 feet on a narrow spur, in a dense forest, amongstimmense loose blocks of gneiss. The weather was foggy and rainy, andthe wind cold. I ate the last supply of animal food, a miserablestarved pullet, with rice and Chili vinegar; my tea, sugar, and allother superfluities having been long before exhausted.

On the following morning, we crossed the Islumbo pass over Singalelahinto Sikkim, the elevation being 11,000 feet. Above our camp thetrees were few and stunted, and we quickly emerged from the forest ona rocky and grassy ridge, covered with withered Saxifrages,Umbelliferae, Parnassia, Hypericum, etc. There were no pines oneither side of the pass; a very remarkable peculiarity of the dampmountains of Sikkim, which I have elsewhere had occasion to notice:we had left Pinus longifolia (a far from common tree in thesevalleys) at 3000 feet in the Tawa three days before, and ascended to11,000 feet without passing a coniferous tree of any kind, except afew yews, at 9000 feet, covered with red berries.

The top of the pass was broad, grassy, and bushy with dwarf Bamboo,Rose, and Berberry, in great abundance, covered with mosses andlichens: it had been raining hard all the morning, and the vegetationwas coated with ice: a dense fog obscured everything, and a violentsouth-east wind blew over the pass in our teeth. I collected somevery curious and beautiful mosses, putting these frozen treasuresinto my box, in the form of exquisitely beautiful glass ornaments,or mosses frosted with silver.

A few stones marked the boundary between Nepal and Sikkim, where Ihalted for half an hour, and hung up my instruments: the temperaturewas 32 degrees.

We descended rapidly, proceeding eastward down the broad valley ofthe Kulhait river, an affluent of the Great Rungeet; and as it hadbegun to sleet and snow hard, we continued until we reached 6,400feet before camping.

On the following day we proceeded down the valley, and reachedhabitations at 4000 feet: passing many villages and much cultivation,we crossed the river, and ascended by 7 p.m., to the village ofLingcham, just below the convent of Changachelling, very tired andhungry. Bad weather had set in, and it was pitch dark and raininghard when we arrived; but the Kajee, or head man, had sent out aparty with torches to conduct us, and he gave us a most hospitablereception, honoured us with a salute of musketry, and broughtabundance of milk, eggs, fowls, plantains, and Murwa beer. Plenty ofnews was awaiting me here, and a messenger with letters was threemarches further north, at Yoksun, waiting my expected return over theKanglanamo pass. Dr. Campbell, I was told, had left Dorjiling; andwas en route to meet the Rajah at Bhomsong on the Teesta river,where no European had ever yet been; and as the Sikkim authoritieshad for sixteen years steadily rejected every overture for a friendlyinterview, and even refused to allow the agent of theGovernor-General to enter their dominions, it was evident that gravedoings were pending. I knew that Dr. Campbell had long used everyexertion to bring the Sikkim Rajah to a friendly conference, withouthaving to force his way into the country for the purpose, but invain. It will hardly be believed that though this chief's dominionswere redeemed by us from the Nepalese and given back to him; thoughwe had bound ourselves by a treaty to support him on his throne, andto defend him against the Nepalese on the west, the Bhutan people onthe east, and the Tibetans on the north; and though the terms of thetreaty stipulated for free intercourse, mutual protection, andfriendship; the Sikkim authorities had hitherto been allowed toobstruct all intercourse, and in every way to treat theGovernor-General's agent and the East India Company with contempt.An affectation of timidity, mistrust, and ignorance was assumed forthe purpose of deception, and as a cloak for every insult andresistance to the terms of our treaty, and it was quoted by theGovernment in answer to every remonstrance on the part of theirresident agent at Dorjiling.

On the following morning the Kajee waited on me with a magnificentpresent of a calf, a kid, fowls, eggs, rice, oranges, plantains,egg-apples, Indian corn, yams, onions, tomatos, parsley, fennel,turmeric, rancid butter, milk, and, lastly, a coolie-load offermenting millet-seeds, wherewith to make the favourite Murwa beer.In the evening two lads arrived from Dorjiling, who had been sent aweek beforehand by my kind and thoughtful friend, Mr. Hodgson, withprovisions and money.

The valley of the Kulhait is one o£ the finest in Sikkim, and it isaccordingly the site of two of the oldest and richest conventualestablishments. Its length is sixteen miles, from the Islumbo pass tothe Great Rungeet, for ten of which it is inhabited, the villagesbeing invariably on long meridional spurs that project north andsouth from either flank; they are about 2000 feet above the river,and from 4,500 to 5000 feet above the sea. Except where these spursproject, the flanks of the valley are very steep, the mountainsrising to 7000 or 8000 feet.

Looking from any spur, up or down the valley, five or six othersmight be seen on each side of the river, at very nearly the sameaverage level, all presenting great uniformity of contour, namely, agentle slope towards the centre of the valley, and then an abruptdescent to the river. They were about a quarter of a mile broad atthe widest, and often narrower, and a mile or so long; some parts oftheir surfaces and sides were quite flat, and occasionally occupiedby marshes or ponds. Cultivation is almost confined to these spurs,and is carried on both on their summits and steep flanks; betweenevery two is a very steep gulley and water-course. The timber haslong since been either wholly or partially cleared from the tops,but, to a great extent, still clothes their flanks and theintervening gorges. I have been particular in describing these spurs,because it is impossible to survey them without ascribing theircomparative uniformity of level to the action of water. Similar onesare characteristic features of the valleys of Sikkim between 2000 and8000 feet, and are rendered conspicuous by being always sites forvillages and cultivation: the soil is a vegetable mould, over a deepstratum of red clay.

I am far from supposing that any geologically recent action of thesea has levelled these spurs; but as the great chain of the Himalayahas risen from the ocean, and as every part of it has been subjectedto sea-action, it is quite conceivable that intervals of rest duringthe periods of elevation or submergence would effect their levelling.In a mountain mass so tumbled as is that of Sikkim, any levelsurface, or approach to it, demands study; and when, as in theKulhait valley, we find several similar spurs with comparatively flattops, to occupy about the same level, it is necessary to look forsome levelling cause. The action of denudation is still progressingwith astonishing rapidity, under an annual fall of from 100 to 150inches of rain; but its tendency is to obliterate all such phenomena,and to give sharp, rugged outlines to these spurs, in spite of theconservative effects of vegetation.

The weather at Lingcham was gloomy, cold, and damp, with much rainand fog, and the mean temperature (45.25 degrees) was cold for theelevation (4,860 feet): 52.5 degrees was the highest temperatureobserved, and 39 degrees the lowest.

A letter from Dr. Campbell reached me three days after my arrival,begging me to cross the country to the Teesta river, and meet him atBhomsong, on its west bank, where he was awaiting my arrival.I therefore left on the 20th of December, accompanied by my friendthe Kajee, who was going to pay his respects to the Rajah. He wasconstantly followed by a lad, carrying a bamboo of Murwa beer slunground his neck, with which he kept himself always groggy. His dresswas thoroughly Lepcha, and highly picturesque, consisting of a verybroad-brimmed round-crowned bamboo-platted hat, scarlet jacket, andblue-striped cloth shirt, bare feet, long knife, bow and quiver,rings and earrings, and a long pigtail. He spoke no Hindoostanee, butwas very communicative through my interpreters.

Leaving the Lingcham spur, we passed steep cliffs of mica and schist,covered with brushwood and long grass, about 1000 feet above whichthe Changachelling convent is perched. Crossing a torrent, we came tothe next village, on the spur of Kurziuk, where I was met by adeputation of women, sent by the Lamas of Changachelling, bearingenormous loads of oranges, rice, milk, butter, ghee, and theeverflowing Murwa beer.

The villagers had erected a shady bower for me to rest under, ofleaves and branches, and had fitted up a little bamboo stage, onwhich to squat cross-legged as they do, or to hang my legs from, if Ipreferred: after conducting me to this, the parties advanced andpiled their cumbrous presents on the ground, bowed, and retired; theywere succeeded by the beer-carrier, who plunged a clean drinking-tubeto the bottom of the steaming bamboo jug (described in Chapter VII),and held it to my mouth, then placing it by my side, he bowed andwithdrew. Nothing can be more fascinating than the simple manners ofthese kind people, who really love hospitality for its own sake, andmake the stranger feel himself welcome. Just now too, the Durbar hadordered every attention to be paid me; and I hardly passed a villagehowever small, without receiving a present, or a cottage, where beerwas not offered. This I found a most grateful beverage; and of theoccasional rests under leafy screens during a hot day's march, andsips at the bamboo jug, I shall ever retain a grateful remembrance.Happily the liquor is very weak, and except by swilling, as my friendthe Kajee did, it would be impossible to get fuddled by it.

At Kurziuk I was met by a most respectable Lepcha, who, as a sort ofcompliment, sent his son to escort us to the next village and spur ofPemiongchi, to reach which we crossed another gorge, of which thesituation and features were quite similar to those of Kurziukand Lingcham.

The Pemiongchi and Changachelling convents and temples stand a fewmiles apart, on the ridge forming the north flank of the Kulhaitvalley; and as they will be described hereafter, I now only allude tothe village, which is fully 1000 feet below the convent, and largeand populous.

At Pemiongchi a superior Lama met me with another overwhelmingpresent: he was a most jolly fat monk, shaven and girdled, anddressed in a scarlet gown: my Lepchas kotowed to him, and he blessedthem by the laying on of hands.

Illustration—PEMIONGCHI GOOMPA AND CHAITS.

There is a marsh on this spur, full of the common English AcorusCalamus, or sweet-flag, whose roots being very aromatic, are used ingriping disorders of men and cattle. Hence we descended suddenly tothe Great Rungeet, which we reached at its junction with the Kulhait:the path was very steep and slippery, owing to micaceous rocks, andled along the side of an enormous Mendong,* [This remarkablestructure, called the Kaysing Mendong, is 200 yards long, 10 feethigh, and 6 or 8 feet broad: it is built of flat, slaty stones, andboth faces are covered with inscribed slates, of which there areupwards of 700, and the inscriptions, chiefly "Om Mani," etc., are inboth the Uchen and Lencha Ranja characters of Tibet. A tall stone,nine feet high, covered also with inscriptions, terminates it at thelower end.] which ran down the hill for several hundred yards, andhad a large chait at each end, with several smaller ones atintervals. Throughout its length were innumerable inscriptions of "OmMani Padmi om," with well carved figures of Boodh in his manyincarnations, besides Lamas, etc. At the lower end was a great flatarea, on which are burnt the bodies of Sikkim people of consequence:the poorer people are buried, the richer burned, and their ashesscattered or interred, but not in graves proper, of which there arenone. Nor are there any signs of Lepcha interment throughout Sikkim;though chaits are erected to the memory of the departed, they have nonecessary connection with the remains, and generally none at all.Corpses in Sikkim are never cut to pieces and thrown into lakes, orexposed on hills for the kites and crows to devour, as is the casein Tibet.

We passed some curious masses of crumpled chlorite slate, presentingdeep canals or furrows, along which a demon once drained all thewater from the Pemiongchi spur, to the great annoyance of thevillagers: the Lamas, however, on choosing this as a site for theirtemples, easily confounded the machinations of the evil spirit, who,in the eyes of the simple Lepchas, was answerable for allthe mischief.

I crossed the Great Rungeet at 1840 feet above the sea, where its bedwas twenty yards in width; a rude bridge, composed of two culms ofbamboo and a handrail, conducted me to the other side, where wecamped (on the east bank) in a thick tropical jungle. In the evening I walked down the banks of the river, which flowed in a deep gorge,cumbered with enormous boulders of granite, clay-slate, andmica-slate; the rocks in situ were all of the latter description,highly inclined, and much dislocated. Some of the boulders were fullyten feet in diameter, permeated and altered very much by graniteveins which had evidently been injected when molten, and had taken upangular masses of the chlorite which remained, as it were, suspendedin the veins.

It is not so easy to account for the present position of these blocksof granite, a rock not common at elevations below 10,000 feet.They have been transported from a considerable distance in theinterior of the lofty valley to the north, and have descended notless than 8000 feet, and travelled fully fifteen miles in a straightline, or perhaps forty along the river bed. It may be supposed thatmoraines have transported them to 8000 feet (the lowest limit ofapparent moraines), and the power of river water carried themfurther; if so, the rivers must have been of much greater volumeformerly than they are now.

Our camp was on a gravel flat, like those of the Nepal valleys, aboutsixty feet above the river; its temperature was 52 degrees, whichfelt cool when bathing.

From the river we proceeded west, following a steep and clayey ascentup the end of a very long spur, from the lofty mountain range calledMungbreu, dividing the Great Rungeet from the Teesta. We ascended bya narrow path, accomplishing 2,500 feet in an hour and a quarter,walking slowly but steadily, without resting; this I always found aheavy pull in a hot climate.

At about 4000 feet above the sea, the spur became more open and flat,like those of the Kulhait valley, with alternate slopes andcomparative flats: from this elevation the view north, south, andwest, was very fine; below us flowed the river, and a few miles up itwas the conical wooded hill of Tassiding, rising abruptly from a forkof the deep river gorge, crowned with its curious temples andmendongs, and bristling with chaits: on it is the oldest monastery inSikkim, occupying a singularly picturesque and prominent position.North of this spur, and similar to it, lay that of Raklang, with thetemple and monastery of the same name, at about this elevation.In front, looking west, across the Great Rungeet, were themonasteries of Changachelling and Pemiongchi, perched aloft; andsouth of these were the flat-topped spurs of the Kulhait valley, withtheir villages, and the great mendong which I had passed on theprevious day, running like a white line down the spur. To the north,beyond Tassiding, were two other monasteries, Doobdee and Sunnook,both apparently placed on the lower wooded flanks of Kinchinjunga;whilst close by was Dholing, the seventh religious establishment nowin sight.

We halted at a good wooden house to refresh ourselves with Murwabeer, where I saw a woman with cancer in the face, an uncommoncomplaint in this country. I here bought a little black puppy, to bemy future companion in Sikkim: he was of a breed between the famousTibet mastiff and the common Sikkim hunting-dog, which is a varietyof the sorry race called Pariah in the plains. Being only a few weeksold, he looked a mere bundle of black fur; and I carried him off, forhe could not walk.

We camped at the village of Lingdam (alt. 5,550 feet), occupying aflat, and surrounded by extensive pools of water (for this country)containing Acorus, Potamogeton, and duckweed. Such ponds I haveoften met with on these terraces, and they are very remarkable, notbeing dammed in by any conspicuous barrier, but simply occupyingdepressions in the surface, from which, as I have repeatedlyobserved, the land dips rapidly to the valleys below.

This being the high-road from Tumloong or Sikkim Durbar (the capital,and Rajah's residence) to the numerous monasteries which I had seen,we passed many Lamas and monks on their way home from Tumloong, wherethey had gone to be present at the marriage of the Tupgain Lama, theeldest son of the Rajah. A dispensation having previously beenprocured from Lhassa, this marriage had been effected by the Lamas,in order to counteract the efforts of the Dewan, who sought toexercise an undue influence over the Rajah and his family.The Tupgain Lama having only spiritual authority, and being bound tocelibacy, the temporal authority devolved on the second son, who washeir apparent of Sikkim; he, however, having died, an illegitimateson of the Rajah was favoured by the Dewan as heir apparent.The bride was brought from Tibet, and the marriage party were feastedfor eighteen days at the Rajah's expense. All the Lamas whom I metwere clad in red robes, with girdles, and were shaven, with bare feetand heads, or mitred; they wore rosaries of onyx, turquoise, quartz,lapis lazuli, coral, glass, amber, or wood, especially yellowberberry and sandal-wood: some had staves, and one a trident like aneel-fork, on a long staff, an emblem of the Hindoo Trinity, calledTrisool Mahadeo, which represents Brahma, Siva, and Vishnu, inHindoo; and Boodh, Dhurma, and Sunga, in Boodhist theology. All wereon foot, indeed ponies are seldom used in this country; the Lamas,however, walked with becoming gravity and indifference to allaround them.

The Kajee waited upon me in the evening; full of importance, havingjust received a letter from his Rajah, which he wished to communicateto me in private; so I accompanied him to a house close by, where hewas a guest, when the secret came out, that his highness wasdreadfully alarmed at my coming with the two Ghorka Sepoys, whom Iaccordingly dismissed.

The house was of the usual Bhoteea form, of wood, well built onposts, one-storied, containing a single apartment hung round withbows, quivers, shields, baskets of rice, and cornucopias of Indiancorn, the handsomest and most generous looking of all the Cerealia.The whole party were deep in a carouse on Murwa beer, and I saw theoperation of making it. The millet-seed is moistened, and fermentsfor two days: sufficient for a day's allowance is then put into avessel of wicker-work, lined with India-rubber to make itwater-tight; and boiling water is poured on it with a ladle of gourd,from a huge iron cauldron that stands all day over the fire.The fluid, when quite fresh, tastes like negus of Cape sherry, rathersour. At this season the whole population are swilling, whether athome or travelling, and heaps of the red-brown husks are seen by theside of all the paths.

Illustration—SIKKIM LAMAS WITH PRAYING CYLINDER AND DORJE; THE
LATERAL FIGURES ARE MONKS OR GYLONGS.

CHAPTER XIII.

Raklang pass — Uses of nettles — Edible plants — Lepcha war —
Do-mani stone — Neongong — Teesta valley — Pony, saddle, etc. —
Meet Campbell — Vegetation and scenery — Presents — Visit of Dewan
— Characters of Rajah and Dewan — Accounts of Tibet — Lhassa —
Siling — Tricks of Dewan — Walk up Teesta — Audience of Rajah —
Lamas — Kajees — Tchebu Lama, his character and position — Effects
of interview — Heir-apparent — Dewan's house — Guitar — Weather
— Fall of river — Tibet officers — Gigantic trees — Neongong lake
— Mainom, ascent of — Vegetation — Camp on snow — Silver fire —
View from top — Kinchin, etc. — Geology — Vapours — Sunset effect
— Elevation — Temperature, etc. — Lamas of Neongong — Temples —
Religious festival — Bamboo, flowering — Recross pass of Raklang —
Numerous temples, villages, etc. — Domestic animals — Descent to
Great Rungeet.

On the following morning, after receiving the usual presents from theLamas of Dholing, and from a large posse of women belonging to thevillage of Barphiung, close by, we ascended the Raklang pass, whichcrosses the range dividing the waters of the Teesta from those of theGreat Rungeet. The Kajee still kept beside me, and proved a livelycompanion: seeing me continually plucking and noting plants, he gaveme much local information about them. He told me the uses made of thefibres of the various nettles; some being twisted for bowstrings,others as a thread for sewing and weaving; while many are eaten rawand in soups, especially the numerous little succulent species.The great yellow-flowered Begonia was abundant, and he cut itsjuicy stalks to make sauce (as we do apple-sauce) for some pork whichhe expected to get at Bhomsong; the taste is acid and very pleasant.The large succulent fern, called Botrychium,* [BotrychiumVirginicum, Linn. This fern is eaten abundantly by the NewZealanders: its distribution is most remarkable, being found veryrarely indeed in Europe, and in Norway only. It abounds in many partsof the Southern United States, the Andes of Mexico, etc., in theHimalaya mountains, Australia, and New Zealand.] grew hereplentifully; it is boiled and eaten, both here and in New Zealand.Ferns are more commonly used for food than is supposed. In Calcuttathe Hindoos boil young tops of a Polypodium with their shrimpcurries; and both in Sikkim and Nepal the watery tubers of anAspidium are abundantly eaten. So also the pulp of one tree-fernaffords food, but only in times of scarcity, as does that of anotherspecies in New Zealand (Cyathea medullaris): the pith of all iscomposed of a coarse sago, that is to say, of cellular tissue withstarch granules.

A thick forest of Dorjiling vegetation covers the summit, which isonly 6,800 feet above the sea: it is a saddle, connecting the loftymountain of Mainom (alt. 11,000 feet) to the north, with Tendong(alt. 8,663 feet) to the south. Both these mountains are on a rangewhich is continuous with Kinchinjunga, projecting from it down intothe very heart of Sikkim. A considerable stand was made here by theLepchas during the Nepal war in 1787; they defended the pass withtheir arrows for some hours, and then retired towards the Teesta,making a second stand lower down, at a place pointed out to me, whererocks on either side gave them the same advantages. The Nepalese,however, advanced to the Teesta, and then retired with little loss.

Unfortunately a thick mist and heavy rain cut off all view of theTeesta valley, and the mountains of Chola to the eastward; which Imuch regretted.

Descending by a very steep, slippery path, we came to a fine mass ofslaty gneiss, thirty feet long and thirteen feet high; not in situ,but lying on the mountain side: on its sloping face was carved inenormous characters, "Om Mani Padmi om"; of which letters thetop-strokes afford an uncertain footing to the enthusiast who iswilling to purchase a good metempsychosis by walking along the slope,with his heels or toes in their cavities. A small inscription in onecorner is said to imply that this was the work of a pious monk ofRaklang; and the stone is called "Do-mani," literally, "stone ofprayer."

Illustration—DO-MANI STONE.

The rocks and peaks of Mainom are said to overhang the descent herewith grandeur; but the continued rain hid everything but a curiousshivered peak, apparently of chlorite schist, which was close by, andreflected a green colour it is of course reported to be of turquoise,and inaccessible. Descending, the rocks became more micaceous, withbroad seams of pipe-clay, originating in decomposed beds offelspathic gneiss: the natives used this to whitewash and mortartheir temples.

I passed the monastery of Neongong, the monks of which were buildinga new temple; and came to bring me a large present. Below it is apretty little lake, about 100 yards across, fringed with brushwood.We camped at the village of Nampok, 4,370 feet above the sea; allthoroughly sodden with rain.

During the night much snow had fallen at and above 9000 feet, but theweather cleared on the following morning, and disclosed the top ofMainom, rising close above my camp, in a series of rugged shiveredpeaks, crested with pines, which looked like statues of snow: to allother quarters this mountain presents a very gently sloping outline.Up the Teesta valley there was a pretty peep of snowy mountains,bearing north 35 degrees east, of no great height.

I was met by a messenger from Dr. Campbell who told me he was waitingbreakfast; so I left my party, and, accompanied by the Kajee andMeepo, hurried down to the valley of the Rungoon (which flows east tothe Teesta), through a fine forest of tropical trees; passing thevillages of Broom* [On the top of the ridge above Broom, a tall stoneis erected by the side of the path, covered with private marks,indicating the height of various individuals who are accustomed tomeasure themselves thus; there was but one mark above 5 feet 7inches, and that was 6 inches higher. It turned out to be Campbell's,who had passed a few days before, and was thus proved to top thenatives of Sikkim by a long way.] and Lingo, to the spur of thatname; where I was met by a servant of the Sikkim Dewan's, with a ponyfor my use. I stared at the animal, and felt inclined to ask what hehad to do here, where it was difficult enough to walk up and downslippery slopes, amongst boulders of rock, heavy forest, and foamingtorrents; but I was little aware of what these beasts couldaccomplish. The Tartar saddle was imported from Tibet, and certainlya curiosity; once—but a long time ago—it must have been veryhandsome; it was high-peaked, covered with shagreen and silveredornaments, wretchedly girthed, and with great stirrups attached toshort leathers. The bridle and head-gear were much too complicatedfor description; there were good leather, raw hide, hair-rope, andscarlet worsted all brought into use; the bit was the ordinaryAsiatic one, jointed, and with two rings. I mounted on one side, andat once rolled over, saddle and all, to the other; the pony standingquite still. I preferred walking; but Dr. Campbell had begged of meto use the pony, as the Dewan had procured and sent it at greattrouble: I, however, had it led till I was close to Bhomsong, when Iwas hoisted into the saddle and balanced on it, with my toes in thestirrups and my knees up to my breast; twice, on the steep descent tothe river, my saddle and I were thrown on the pony's neck; in theseawkward emergencies I was assisted by a man on each side, whosupported my weight on my elbows: they seemed well accustomed toeasing mounted ponies down hill without giving the rider the troubleof dismounting. Thus I entered Dr. Campbell's camp at Bhomsong, tothe pride and delight of my attendants; and received a hearty welcomefrom my old friend, who covered me with congratulations on thesuccessful issue of a journey which, at this season, and under suchdifficulties and discouragements, he had hardly thought feasible.

Dr. Campbell's tent was pitched in an orange-grove, occupying a flaton the west bank of the Teesta, close to a small enclosure ofpine-apples, with a pomegranate tree in the middle. The valley isvery narrow, and the vegetation wholly tropical, consisting of twospecies of oak, several palms, rattan-cane (screw-pine), Pandanus,tall grasses, and all the natives of dense hot jungles. The river isa grand feature, broad, rocky, deep, swift, and broken by enormousboulders of rock; its waters were of a pale opal green, probably fromthe materials of the soft micaceous rocks through which it flows.

A cane bridge crosses it,* [Whence the name of Bhomsong Samdong, thelatter word meaning bridge.] but had been cut away (in feigneddistrust of us), and the long canes were streaming from theirattachments on either shore down the stream, and a triangular raftof bamboo was plying instead, drawn to and fro by means of astrong cane.

Soon after arriving I received a present from the Rajah, consistingof a brick of Tibet tea, eighty pounds of rancid yak butter, in largesquares, done up in yak-hair cloth, three loads of rice, and one ofMurwa for beer; rolls of bread,* [These rolls, or rather, sticks ofbread, are made in Tibet, of fine wheaten flour, and keep for a longtime: they are sweet and good, but very dirtily prepared.] fowls,eggs, dried plums, apricots, jujubes, currants, and Sultana raisins,the latter fruits purchased at Lhassa, but imported thither fromwestern Tibet; also some trays of coarse milk-white crystallisedsalt, as dug in Tibet.

In the evening we were visited by the Dewan, the head and front ofall our Sikkim difficulties, whose influence was paramount with theRajah, owing to the age and infirmities of the latter, and hisdevotion to religion, which absorbed all his time and thoughts.The Dewan was a good-looking Tibetan, very robust, fair, muscular andwell fleshed; he had a very broad Tartar face, quite free of hair; asmall and beautifully formed mouth and chin, very broad cheekbones,and a low, contracted forehead: his manners were courteous andpolite, but evidently affected, in assumption of better breeding thanhe could in reality lay claim to. The Rajah himself was a Tibetan ofjust respectable extraction, a native of the Sokpo province, north ofLhassa: his Dewan was related to one of his wives, and I believe aLhassan by birth as well as extraction, having probably also Kashmirblood in him.* [The Tibetans court promiscuous intercourse betweentheir families and the Kashmir merchants who traverse their country.]Though minister, he was neither financier nor politician, but a mereplunderer of Sikkim, introducing his relations, and those whom hecalls so, into the best estates in the country, and trading in greatand small wares, from a Tibet pony to a tobacco pipe, wholesale andretail. Neither he nor the Rajah are considered worthy of notice bythe best Tibet families or priests, or by the Chinese commissionerssettled in Lhassa and Jigatzi. The latter regard Sikkim as virtuallyEnglish, and are contented with knowing that its ruler has no army,and with believing that its protectors, the English, could not marchan army across the Himalaya if they would.

The Dewan, trading in wares which we could supply better and cheaper,naturally regarded us with repugnance, and did everything in hispower to thwart Dr. Campbell's attempts to open a friendlycommunication between the Sikkim and English governments. The Rajahowed everything to us, and was, I believe, really grateful; but hewas a mere cipher in the hands of his minister. The priests again,while rejoicing in our proximity, were apathetic, and dreaded themore active Dewan; and the people had long given evidence of theirconfidence in the English. Under these circ*mstances it was in thehope of gaining the Rajah's own ear, and representing to him theadvantages of promoting an intercourse with us, and the danger ofcontinuing to violate the terms of our treaty, that Dr. Campbell hadbeen authorised by government to seek an interview with His Highness.At present our relations were singularly infelicitous. There was noagent on the Sikkim Rajah's part to conduct business at Dorjiling,and the Dewan insisted on sending a creature of his own, who hadbefore been dismissed for insolence. Malefactors who escaped intoSikkim were protected, and our police interrupted in the discharge oftheir duties; slavery was practised; and government communicationswere detained for weeks and months under false pretences.

In his interviews with us the Dewan appeared to advantage: he wasfond of horses and shooting, and prided himself on his hospitality.We gained much information from many conversations with him, duringwhich politics were never touched upon. Our queries naturallyreferred to Tibet and its geography, especially its great feature theYarou Tsampoo river; this he assured us was the Burrampooter ofAssam, and that no one doubted it in that country. Lhassa hedescribed as a city in the bottom of a flat-floored valley,surrounded by lofty snowy mountains: neither grapes, tea, silk, orcotton are produced near it, but in the Tartchi province of Tibet,one month's journey east of Lhassa, rice, and a coarse kind of teaare both grown. Two months' journey north-east of Lhassa is Siling,the well-known great commercial entrepot* [The entrepot is nowremoved to Tang-Keou-Eul.—See Huc and Gabet.] in west China; andthere coarse silk is produced. All Tibet he described as mountainous,and an inconceivably poor country: there are no plains, save flats inthe bottoms of the valleys, and the paths lead over lofty mountains.Sometimes, when the inhabitants are obliged from famine to changetheir habitations in winter, the old and feeble are frozen to death,standing and resting their chins on their staves; remaining aspillars of ice, to fall only when the thaw of the ensuingspring commences.

We remained several days at Bhomsong, awaiting an interview with theRajah, whose movements the Dewan kept shrouded in mystery. On Dr.Campbell's arrival at this river a week before, he found messengerswaiting to inform him that the Rajah would meet him here; this beinghalf way between Dorjiling and Tumloong. Thenceforward everysubterfuge was resorted to by the Dewan to frustrate the meeting; andeven after the arrival of the Rajah on the east bank, the Dewancommunicated with Dr. Campbell by shooting across the river arrows towhich were attached letters, containing every possible argument toinduce him to return to Dorjiling; such as that the Rajah was sick atTumloong, that he was gone to Tibet, that he had a religious fast andrites to perform, etc. etc.

One day we walked up the Teesta to the Rumphiup river, a torrent fromMainom mountain to the west; the path led amongst thick jungle ofWallichia palm, prickly rattan canes, and the Pandanus, orscrew-pine, called "Borr," which has a straight, often forked,palm-like trunk, and an immense crown of grassy saw-edged leaves fourfeet long: it bears clusters of uneatable fruit as large as a man'sfist, and their similarity to the pine-apple has suggested the nameof "Borr" for the latter fruit also, which has for many years beencultivated in Sikkim, and yields indifferent produce. Beautiful pinkbalsams covered the ground, but at this season few other showy plantswere in flower: the rocks were chlorite, very soft and silvery, andso curiously crumpled and contorted as to appear as though formed ofscaled of mica crushed together, and confusedly arranged in layers:the strike was north-west, and dip north-east from 60 degrees to70 degrees.

Messengers from the Dewan overtook us at the river to announce thatthe Rajah was prepared and waiting to give us a reception; so wereturned, and I borrowed a coat from Dr. Campbell instead of mytattered shooting-jacket; and we crossed the river on thebamboo-raft. As it is the custom on these occasions to exchangepresents, I was officially supplied with some red cloth and beads:these, as well as Dr. Campbell's present, should only have beendelivered during or after the audience; but our wily friend the Dewanhere played us a very shabby trick; for he managed that our presentsshould be stealthily brought in before our appearance, thus giving tothe by-standers the impression of our being tributaries tohis Highness!

The audience chamber was a mere roofed shed of neat bamboo wattle,about twenty feet long: two Bhoteeas in scarlet. jackets, and withbows in their hands, stood on each side of the door, and our ownchairs were carried before us for our accommodation. Within was asquare wicker throne, six feet high, covered with purple silk,brocaded with dragons in white and gold, and overhung by a canopy oftattered blue silk, with which material part of the walls also wascovered. An oblong box (containing papers) with gilded dragons on it,was placed on the stage or throne, and behind it was perchedcross-legged, an odd, black, insignificant looking old man, withtwinkling upturned eyes: he was swathed in yellow silk, and wore onhis head a pink silk hat with a flat broad crown, from all sides ofwhich hung floss silk. This was the Rajah, a genuine Tibetan, aboutseventy years old. On some steps close by, and ranged down theapartment, were his relations, all in brocaded silk robes reachingfrom the throat to the ground, and girded about the waist; andwearing caps similar to that of the Rajah. Kajees, counsellors, andshaven mitred Lamas were there, to the number of twenty, all plantedwith their backs to the wall, mute and motionless as statues. A fewspectators were huddled together at the lower end of the room, and amonk waved about an incense pot containing burning juniper and otherodoriferous plants. Altogether the scene was solemn and impressive:as Campbell well expressed it, the genius of Lamaism reigned supreme.

We saluted, but received no complimentary return; our chairs werethen placed, and we seated ourselves, when the Dewan came in, clad ina superb purple silk robe, worked with circular gold figures, andformally presented us. The Dewan then stood; and as the Rajah did notunderstand Hindoostanee, our conversation was carried on through themedium of a little bare-headed rosy-cheeked Lama, named "Tchebu,"clad in a scarlet gown, who acted as interpreter. The conversationwas short and constrained: Tchebu was known as a devoted servant ofthe Rajah and of the heir apparent; and in common with all the Lamashe hates the Dewan, and desires a friendly intercourse between Sikkimand Dorjiling. He is, further, the only servant of the Rajah capableof conversing both in Hindoo and Tibetan, and the uneasy distrustfullook of the Dewan, who understands the latter language only, was veryevident. He was as anxious to hurry over the interview, as Dr.Campbell and Tchebu were to protract it; it was clear, therefore,that nothing satisfactory could be done under such auspices.

As a signal for departure white silk scarfs were thrown over ourshoulders, according to the established custom in Tibet, Sikkim, andBhotan; and presents were made to us of China silks, bricks of tea,woollen cloths, yaks, ponies, and salt, with worked silk purses andfans for Mrs. Campbell; after which we left. The whole scene wasnovel and very curious. We had had no previous idea of the extremepoverty of the Rajah, of his utter ignorance of the usages ofOriental life, and of his not having anyone near to instruct him.The neglect of our salutation, and the conversion of our presentsinto tribute, did not arise from any ill-will: it was owing to thecraft of the Dewan in taking advantage of the Rajah's ignorance ofhis own position and of good manners. Miserably poor, without anyretinue, taking no interest in what passes in his own kingdom,subsisting on the plainest and coarsest food, passing his time ineffectually abstracting his mind from the consideration of earthlythings, and wrapt in contemplation, the Sikkim Rajah has arrived atgreat sanctity, and is all but prepared for that absorption into theessence of Boodh, which is the end and aim of all good Boodhists.The mute conduct of his Court, who looked like attendants at aninquisition, and the profound veneration expressed in every word andgesture of those who did move and speak, recalled a Pekin reception.His attendants treated him as a being of a very different nature fromthemselves; and well might they do so, since they believe that hewill never die, but retire from the world only to re-appear undersome equally sainted form.

Though productive of no immediate good, our interview had a veryfavourable effect on the Lamas and people, who had long wished it;and the congratulations we received thereon during the remainder ofour stay in Sikkim were many and sincere. The Lamas we founduniversally in high spirits; they having just effected the marriageof the heir apparent, himself a Lama, said to possess much abilityand prudence, and hence being very obnoxious to the Dewan, whovehemently opposed the marriage. As, however, the minister hadestablished his influence over the youngest, and estranged the Rajahfrom his eldest son, and was moreover in a fair way for ruling Sikkimhimself, the Church rose in a body, procured a dispensation fromLhassa for the marriage of a priest, and thus hoped to undermine theinfluence of the violent and greedy stranger.

In the evening, we paid a farewell visit to the Dewan, whom we foundin a bamboo wicker-work hut, neatly hung with bows, arrows, and roundLepcha shields of cane, each with a scarlet tuft of yak-hair in themiddle; there were also muskets, Tibetan arms, and much horse gear;and at one end was a little altar, with cups, bells, pastiles, andimages. He was robed in a fawn-coloured silk gown, lined with thesoftest of wool, that taken from unborn lambs: like most Tibetans, heextracts all his beard with tweezers; an operation he civillyrecommended to me, accompanying the advice with the present of a neatpair of steel forceps. He aspires to be considered a man of taste,and plays the Tibetan guitar, on which he performed some airs for ouramusem*nt: the instrument is round-bodied and long-armed, with sixstrings placed in pairs, and probably comes from Kashmir: the Tibetanairs were simple and quite pretty, with the time well marked.

During our stay at Bhomsong, the weather was cool, considering thelow elevation (1,500 feet), and very steady; the mean temperature was52.25 degrees, the maximum 71.25 degrees, the minimum 42.75 degrees.The sun set behind the lofty mountains at 3 p.m., and in the morninga thick, wet, white, dripping fog settled in the bottom of thevalley, and extended to 800 or 1000 feet above the river-bed; thiswas probably caused by the descent of cold currents into the humidgorge: it was dissipated soon after sunrise, but formed again atsunset for a few minutes, giving place to clear starlight nights.

A thermometer sunk two feet seven inches, stood at 64 degrees.The temperature of the water was pretty constant at 51 degrees: fromhere to the plains of India the river has a nearly uniform fall of1000 feet in sixty-nine miles, or sixteen feet to a mile: were itscourse straight for the same distance, the fall would be 1000 feet inforty miles, or twenty-five feet to a mile.

Dr. Campbell's object being accomplished, he was anxious to make thebest use of the few days that remained before his return toDorjiling, and we therefore arranged to ascend Mainom, and visit theprincipal convents in Sikkim together, after which he was to returnsouth, whilst I should proceed north to explore the south flank ofKinchinjunga. For the first day our route was that by which I hadarrived. We left on Christmas-day, accompanied by two of the Rajah's,or rather Dewan's officers, of the ranks of Dingpun and Soupun,answering to those of captain and lieutenant; the titles were,however, nominal, the Rajah having no soldiers, and these men beingprofoundly ignorant of the mysteries of war or drill. They weresplendid specimens of Sikkim Bhoteeas (i.e. Tibetans, born in Sikkim,sometimes called Arrhats), tall, powerful, and well built, butinsolent and bullying: the Dingpun wore the Lepcha knife, ornamentedwith turquoises, together with Chinese chopsticks. Near Bhomsong,Campbell pointed out a hot bath to me, which he had seen employed: itconsisted of a hollowed prostrate tree trunk, the water in which washeated by throwing in hot stones with bamboo tongs. The temperatureis thus raised to 114 degrees, to which the patient submits atrepeated intervals for several days, never leaving till whollyexhausted. These baths are called "Sa-choo," literally "hot-water,"in Tibetan.

We stopped to measure some splendid trees in the valley, and foundthe trunk of one to be forty-five feet round the buttresses, andthirty feet above them, a large size for the Himalaya: they were aspecies of Terminalia (Pentaptera), and called by the Lepchas"Sillok-Kun," "Kun" meaning tree.

We slept at Nampok, and the following morning commenced the ascent.On the way we passed the temple and lake of Neongong; the latter isabout 400 yards round, and has no outlet. It contained two Englishplants, the common duckweed (Lemna minor), and Potamogetonnatans: some coots were swimming in it, and having flushed awoodco*ck, I sent for my gun, but the Lamas implored us not to shoot,it being contrary to their creed to take life wantonly.

We left a great part of our baggage at Neongong, as we intended toreturn there; and took up with us bedding, food, etc., for two days.A path hence up the mountain is frequented once a year by the Lamas,who make a pilgrimage to the top for worship. The ascent was verygradual for 4000 feet. We met with snow at the level of Dorjiling(7000 feet), indicating a colder climate than at that station, wherenone had fallen; the vegetation was, however, similar, but not sorich, and at 8000 feet trees common also to the top of Sinchulappeared, with R. Hodgsoni, and the beautiful littlewinter-flowering primrose, P. petiolaris, whose stemless flowersspread like broad purple stars on the deep green foliage. Above, thepath runs along the ridge of the precipices facing the south-east,and here we caught a glimpse of the great valley of the Ryott, beyondthe Teesta, with Tumloong, the Rajah's residence, on its north flank,and the superb snowy peak of Chola at its head.

One of our coolies, loaded with crockery and various indispensables,had here a severe fall, and was much bruised; he however recoveredhimself, but not our goods.

The rocks were all of chlorite slate, which is not usual at thiselevation; the strike was north-west, and dip north-east. At 9000feet various shrubby rhododendrons prevailed, with mountain-ash,birch, and dwarf-bamboo; also R. Falconeri, which grew from fortyto fifty feet high. The snow was deep and troublesome, so we encampedat 9,800 feet, or 800 feet below the top, in a wood of Pyrus,Magnolia, Rhododendron, and bamboo. As the ground was deeply coveredwith snow, we laid our beds on a thick layer of rhododendron twigs,bamboo, and masses of a pendent moss.

We passed a very cold night, chiefly owing to damp, the temperaturefalling to 24 degrees. On the following morning we scrambled throughthe snow, reaching the summit after an hour's very laborious ascent,and took up our quarters in a large wooden barn-like temple(goompa), built on a stone platform. The summit was very broad, butthe depth of the snow prevented our exploring much, and the silverfirs (Abies Webbiana) were so tall, that no view could be obtained,except from the temple. The great peak of Kinchinjunga is in parthidden by those of Pundim and Nursing, but the panorama of snowymountains is very grand indeed. The effect is quite deceptive; themountains assuming the appearance of a continued chain, the distantsnowy peaks being seemingly at little further distance than thenearer ones. The whole range (about twenty-two miles nearer than atDorjiling) appeared to rise uniformly and steeply out of black pineforests, which were succeeded by the russet-brown of the rhododendronshrubs, and that again by tremendous precipices and gulleys, intowhich descended mighty glaciers and perpetual snows. This excessivesteepness is however only apparent, being due to foreshortening.

The upper 10,000 feet of Kinchin, and the tops of Pundim, Kubra, andJunnoo, are evidently of granite, and are rounded in outline: thelower peaks again, as those of Nursing, etc., present ruggedpinnacles of black and red stratified rocks, in many cases resting onwhite granite, to which they present a remarkable contrast. Thegeneral appearance was as if Kinchin and the whole mass of mountainsclustered around it, had been up-heaved by white granite, which stillforms the loftiest summits, and has raised the black stratified rocksin some places to 20,000 feet in numerous peaks and ridges. One rangepresented on every summit a cap of black stratified rocks of uniforminclination and dip, striking north-west, with precipitous faces tothe south-west: this was clear to the naked eye, and more evidentwith the telescope, the range in question being only fifteen milesdistant, running between Pundim and Nursing. The fact of the graniteforming the greatest elevation must not be hastily attributed to thatigneous rock having burst through the stratified, and been protrudedbeyond the latter: it is much more probable that the upheaval of thegranite took place at a vast depth, and beneath an enormous pressureof stratified rocks and perhaps of the ocean; since which period theelevation of the whole mountain chain, and the denudation of thestratified rocks, has been slowly proceeding.

To what extent denudation has thus lowered the peaks we dare scarcelyform a conjecture; but considering the number and variety of the bedswhich in some places overlie the gneiss and granite, we mayreasonably conclude that many thousand feet have been removed.

It is further assumable that the stratified rocks originally took theforms of great domes, or arches. The prevailing north-west strikethroughout the Himalaya vaguely indicates a general primaryarrangement of the curves into waves, whose crests run north-west andsouth-cast; an arrangement which no minor or posterior forces havewholly disturbed, though they have produced endless dislocations, andespecially a want of uniformity in the amount and direction of thedip. Whether the loftiest waves were the result of one greatconvulsion, or of a long-continued succession of small ones, theeffect would be the same, namely, that the strata over those pointsat which the granite penetrated the highest, would be the mostdislocated, and the most exposed to wear during denudation.

We enjoyed the view of this superb scenery till noon, when the cloudswhich had obscured Dorjiling since morning were borne towards us bythe southerly wind, rapidly closing in the landscape on all sides.At sunset they again broke, retreating from the northward, and risingfrom Sinchul and Dorjiling last of all, whilst a line of vapour,thrown by perspective into one narrow band, seemed to belt theSingalelah range with a white girdle, darkened to black where itcrossed the snowy mountains; and it was difficult to believe thatthis belt did not really hang upon the ranges from twenty to thirtymiles off, against which it was projected; or that its true positionwas comparatively close to the mountain on which we were standing,and was due to condensation around its cool, broad, flat summit.

As usual from such elevations, sunset produced many beautifuleffects. The zenith was a deep blue, darkening opposite the settingsun, and paling over it into a peach colour, and that again near thehorizon passing into a glowing orange-red, crossed by coppery streaksof cirrhus. Broad beams of pale light shot from the sun to themeridian, crossing the moon and the planet Venus. Far south, throughgaps in the mountains, the position of the plains of India, 10,000feet below us, was indicated by a deep leaden haze, fading upwards ingradually paler bands (of which I counted fifteen) to the clearyellow of the sunset sky. As darkness came on, the mists collectedaround the top of Mainom, accumulating on the windward side, andthrown off in ragged masses from the opposite.

The second night we passed here was fine, and not very cold (the meantemperature being 27 degrees) and we kept ourselves quite warm bypine-wood fires. On the following morning the sun tinged the sky of alurid yellow-red: to the south-west, over the plains, the belts ofleaden vapour were fewer (twelve being distinguishable) and muchlower than on the previous evening, appearing as if depressed on thevisible horizon. Heavy masses of clouds nestled into all the valleys,and filled up the larger ones, the mountain tops rising above themlike islands.

The height of our position I calculated to be 10,613 feet. ColonelWaugh had determined that of the summit by trigonometry to be 10,702feet, which probably includes the trees which cover it, or some rockypeaks on the broad and comparatively level surface.

The mean temperature of the twenty-four hours was 32.7 degrees (max.41.5 degrees/min. 27.2 degrees), mean dew-point 29.7, and saturation0.82. The mercury suddenly fell below the freezing point at sunset;and from early morning the radiation was so powerful, that athermometer exposed on snow sank to 21.2 degrees, and stood at 25.5degrees, at 10 a.m. The black bulb thermometer rose to 132 degrees,at 9 a.m. on the 27th, or 94.2 degrees above the temperature of theair in the shade. I did not then observe that of radiation from snow;but if, as we may assume, it was not less than on the followingmorning (21.2 degrees), we shall have a difference of 148.6 degreesFahr., in contiguous spots; the one exposed to the full effects ofthe sun, the other to that of radiation through a rarefied medium toa cloudless sky. On the 28th the black bulb thermometer, freelysuspended over the snow and exposed to the sun, rose to 108 degrees,or 78 degrees above that of the air in the shade (32 degrees); theradiating surface of the same snow in the shade being 21.2 degrees,or 86.8 degrees colder.

Having taken a complete set of angles and panoramic sketches from thetop of Mainom, with seventeen hourly observations, and collected muchinformation from our guides, we returned on the 28th to our tentspitched by the temples at Neongong; descending 7000 feet, a verysevere shake along Lepcha paths. In the evening the Lamas visited us,with presents of rice, fowls, eggs, etc., and begged subscriptionsfor their temple which was then building, reminding Dr. Campbell thathe and the Governor-General had an ample share of their prayers, andbenefited in proportion. As for me, they said, I was bound to givealms, as I surely needed praying for, seeing how I exposed myself;besides my having been the first Englishman who had visited the snowsof Kinchinjunga, the holiest spot in Sikkim.

On the following morning we visited the unfinished temple. The outerwalls were of slabs of stone neatly chiselled, but badly mortaredwith felspathic clay and pounded slate, instead of lime; thepartition walls were of clay, shaped in moulds of wood; parallelplanks, four feet asunder, being placed in the intended position ofthe walls, and left open above, the composition was placed in theseboxes, a little at a time, and rammed down by the feet of many men,who walked round and round the narrow enclosure, singing, and alsousing rammers of heavy wood. The outer work was of good hard timber,of Magnolia ("Pendre-kun" of the Lepchas) land oak ("Sokka").The common "Ban," or Lepcha knife, supplied the place of axe, saw,adze, and plane; and the graving work was executed with small tools,chiefly on Toon (Cedrela), a very soft wood (the "Simal-kun" ofthe Lepchas).

This being a festival day, when the natives were bringing offeringsto the altar, we also visited the old temple, a small woodenbuilding. Besides more substantial offerings, there were little conesof rice with a round wafer of butter at the top, ranged on the altarin order.* [The worshippers, on entering, walk straight up to thealtar, and before, or after, having deposited their gifts, they liftboth hands to the forehead, fall on their knees, and touch the groundthree times with both head and hands, raising the body a littlebetween each prostration. They then advance to the head Lama, kotowsimilarly to him, and he blesses them, laying both hands on theirheads and repeating a short formula. Sometimes the dorje is used inblessing, as the cross is in Europe, and when a mass of peoplerequest a benediction, the Lama pronounces it from the door of thetemple with outstretched arms, the people all being prostrate, withtheir foreheads touching the ground.] Six Lamas were at prayer,psalms, and contemplation, sitting cross-legged on two small benchesthat ran down the building: one was reading, with his hand andfore-finger elevated, whilst the others listened; anon they all sanghymns, repeated sacred or silly precepts to the bystanders, or joinedin a chorus with boys, who struck brass cymbals, and blew straightcopper trumpets six feet long, and conch-shells mounted with broadsilver wings, elegantly carved with dragons. There were besidesmanis, or praying-cylinders, drums, gongs, books, and trumpets madeof human thigh-bones, plain or mounted in silver.

Throughout Sikkim, we were roused each morning at daybreak by thiswild music, the convents being so numerous that we were always withinhearing of it. To me it was always deeply impressive, sounding soforeign, and awakening me so effectually to the strangeness of thewild land in which I was wandering, and of the many new and strikingobjects it contained. After sleep, too, during which the mind haseither been at rest, or carried away to more familiar subjects, thefeelings of loneliness and sometimes even of despondency, conjuredup, by this solemn music, were often almost oppressive.

Ascending from Neongong, we reached that pass from the Teesta to theGreat Rungeet, which I had crossed on the 22nd; and this time we hada splendid view, down both the valleys, of the rivers, and the manyspars from the ridge communicating between Tendong and Mainom, withmany scattered villages and patches of cultivation. Near the top Ifound a plant of "Praong," (a small bamboo), in full seed; this sendsup many flowering branches from the root, and but few leaf-bearingones; and after maturing its seed, and giving off suckers from theroot, the parent plant dies. The fruit is a dark, long grain, likerice; it is boiled and made into cakes, or into beer, like Murwa.

Looking west from the summit, no fewer than ten monasticestablishments with their temples, villages and cultivation, were atonce visible, in the valley of the Great Rungeet, and in those of itstributaries; namely, Changachelling, Raklang, Dholi, Molli,Catsuperri, Dhoobdi, Sunnook, Powhungri, Pemiongchi and Tassiding,all of considerable size, and more or less remarkable in their sites,being perched on spurs or peaks at elevations varying from 3000 to7000 feet, and commanding splendid prospects.

We encamped at Lingcham, where I had halted on the 21st, and theweather being fine, I took bearings of all the convents and mountainsaround. There is much cultivation here, and many comparatively richvillages, all occupying flat-shouldered spurs from Mainom. The housesare large, and the yards are full of animals familiar to the eye butnot to the ear. The cows of Sikkim, though generally resembling theEnglish in stature, form, and colour, have humps, and grunt ratherthan low; and the co*cks wake the morning with a prolonged howlingscreech, instead of the shrill crow of chanticleer.

Hence we descended north-west to the Great Rungeet, oppositeTassiding; which is one of the oldest monastic establishments inSikkim, and one we were very anxious to visit. The descent laythrough a forest of tropical trees, where small palms, vines,peppers, Pandanus, wild plantain, and Pothos, were interlaced inan impenetrable jungle, and air-plants clothed the trees.

Illustration—IMPLEMENTS USED IN BOODHIST TEMPLES.Praying cylinder in stand (see Chapter VII); another to be carried inthe hand; cymbals; bell; brass cup; three trumpets; conch; dorje.

CHAPTER XIV.

Tassiding, view of and from — Funereal cypress — Camp at Sunnook —Hot vapours — Lama's house — Temples, decorations, altars, idols,general effect — Chaits — Date of erection — Plundered by Ghorkas— Cross Ratong — Ascend to Pemiongchi — Relation of river-beds tostrike of rocks — Slopes of ravines — Pemiongchi, view of —Vegetation — Elevation — Temple, decorations, etc. — Formercapital of Sikkim — History of Sikkim — Nightingales — Campbelldeparts — Tchonpong — Edgeworthia — Cross Rungbee and Ratong —Hoar-frost on plantains — Yoksun — Walnuts — View — Funerealcypresses — Doobdi — Gigantic cypresses — Temples — Snow-fall —Sikkim, etc. — Toys.

Tassiding hill is the steep conical termination of a long spur from apine-clad shoulder of Kinchinjunga, called Powhungri: it divides theGreat Rungeet from its main feeder, the Ratong, which rises from thesouth face of Kinchin. We crossed the former by a bridge formed oftwo bamboo stems, slung by canes from two parallel arches of stoutbranches lashed together.

The ascent for 2,800 feet was up a very steep, dry, zigzag path,amongst mica slate rocks (strike north-east), on which grew manytropical plants, especially the "Tukla," (Rottlera tinctoria), aplant which yields a brown dye. The top was a flat, curvingnorth-west and south-east, covered with temples, chaits, and mendongsof the most picturesque forms and in elegant groups, and fringed withbrushwood, wild plantains, small palms, and apple-trees. Here I sawfor the first time the funereal cypress, of which some very old treesspread their weeping limbs and pensile branchlets over thebuildings.* [I was not then aware of this tree having been introducedinto England by the intrepid Mr. Fortune from China; and as I wasunable to procure seeds, which are said not to ripen in Sikkim, itwas a great and unexpected pleasure, on my return home, to find italive and flourishing at Kew.] It is not wild in Sikkim, but importedthere and into Bhotan from Tibet: it does not thrive well above 6000feet elevation. It is called "Tchenden" by the Lepchas, Bhoteeas,and Tibetans, and its fragrant red wood is burnt in the temples.

Illustration—GROUP OF CHAITS AT PASSIDING.

The Lamas met us on the top of the hill, bringing a noble present offowls, vegetables and oranges, the latter most acceptable after ourlong and hot march. The site is admirably chosen, in the very heartof Sikkim, commanding a fine view, and having a considerable river oneither side, with the power of retreating behind to the convents ofSunnook and Powhungri, which are higher up on the same spur, andsurrounded by forest enough to conceal an army. Considering theturbulent and warlike character of their neighbours, it is notwonderful that the monks should have chosen commanding spots, andgood shelter for their indolent lives: for the same reason thesemonasteries secured views of one another: thus from Tassiding thegreat temple of Pemiongchi was seen towering 3000 feet over head,whilst to the north-west, up the course of the river, the hill-sidesseemed sprinkled with monasteries.

We camped on a saddle near the village of Sunnook, at 4000 feet abovethe sea; and on the last day of the year we visited this mostinteresting monastic establishment: ascending from our camp along theridge by a narrow path, cut here and there into steps, and passingmany rocks covered with inscriptions, broken walls of mendongs, andother remains of the via sacra between the village and temple.At one spot we found a fissure emitting hot vapour of the temperatureof 65.5 degrees, that of the air being about 50 degrees. It wassimply a hole amongst the rocks; and near the Rungeet a similar oneis said to occur, whose temperature fluctuates considerably with theseason. It is very remarkable that such an isolated spring shouldexist on the top of a sharp ridge, 2,800 feet above the bottom ofthis deep valley.

The general arrangement on the summit was, first the Lamas' houseswith small gardens, then three large temples raised on rudely pagedplatforms, and beyond these, a square walled enclosure facing thesouth, full of chaits and mendongs, looking like a crowded cemetery,and planted with funereal cypress (Cupressus funebris).

The house of the principal Lama was an oblong square, the lowerstory of stone, and the upper of wood: we ascended a ladder to theupper room, which was 24 feet by 8 wattled all round, with prettilylatticed windows opening upon a bamboo balcony used for drying grain,under the eaves of the broad thatched roof. The ceiling (of neatbamboo work) was hung with glorious bunches of maize, yellow, red,and brown; an altar and closed wicker cage at one end of the roomheld the Penates, and a few implements of worship. Chinese carpetswere laid on the floor for us, and the cans of Murwa brought round.

The Lama, though one of the red sect, was dressed in a yellowflowered silk robe, but his mitre was red: he gave us muchinformation relative to the introduction of Boodhism into Sikkim.

The three temples stand about fifty yards apart, but are not parallelto one another, although their general direction is east and west.*[Timkowski, in his travels through Mongolia (i. p. 193), says,"According to the rules of Tibetan architecture, temples should facethe south:" this is certainly not the rule in Sikkim, nor, so far asI could learn, in Tibet either.] Each is oblong, and narrowedupwards, with the door at one end; the middle (and smallest) facesthe west, the others the east: the doorways are all broad, low anddeep, protected by a projecting carved portico. The walls areimmensely thick, of well-masoned slaty stones; the outer surface ofeach slopes upwards and inwards, the inner is perpendicular.The roofs are low and thickly thatched, and project from eight to tenfeet all round, to keep off the rain, being sometimes supported bylong poles. There is a very low upper story, inhabited by theattendant monks and servants, accessible by a ladder at one end ofthe building. The main body of the temple is one large apartment,entered through a small transverse vestibule, the breadth of thetemple, in which are tall cylindrical praying-machines. The carvinground the doors is very beautiful, and they are gaudily paintedand gilded.

Illustration—DOORWAY.

The northern temple is quite plain: the middle one is simply paintedred, and encircled with a row of black heads, with goggle eyes andnumerous teeth, on a white ground; it is said to have been originallydedicated to the evil spirits of the Lepcha creed. The southern,which contains the library, is the largest and best, and is of anirregular square shape. The inside walls and floors are plasteredwith clay, and painted with allegorical representations of Boodh,etc. From the vestibule the principal apartment is entered by broadfolding-doors, studded with circular copper bosses, and turning oniron hinges. It is lighted by latticed windows, sometimes protectedoutside by a bamboo screen. Owing to the great thickness of the walls (three to four feet), a very feeble light is admitted. In theprincipal temple, called "Dugang," six hexagonal wooden columns,narrowed above, with peculiar broad transverse capitals, exquisitelygilded and painted, support the cross-beams of the roof, which arelikewise beautifully ornamented. Sometimes a curly-maned gilt lion isplaced over a column, and it is always furnished with a black bushytail: squares, diamonds, dragons, and groups of flowers, vermilion,green, gold, azure, and white, are dispersed with great artistictaste over all the beams; the heavier masses of colour beingseparated by fine white lines.

Illustration—SOUTHERN TEMPLE.

The altars and idols are placed at the opposite end; and two longparallel benches, like cathedral stalls, run down the centre of thebuilding: on these the monks sit at prayer and contemplation, thehead Lama occupying a stall (often of very tasteful design) nearthe altar.

Illustration—MIDDLE TEMPLE.

The principal Boodh, or image, is placed behind the altar under acanopy, or behind a silk screen: lesser gods, and gaily dressed andpainted effigies of sainted male or female persons are ranged oneither side, or placed in niches around the apartment, sometimes withseparate altars before them; whilst the walls are more or lesscovered with paintings of monks in prayer or contemplation.The principal Boodh (Sakya Sing) sits cross-legged, with the leftheel up: his left-hand always rests on his thigh, and holds the padmior lotus and jewel, which is often a mere cup; the right-hand iseither raised, with the two forefingers up, or holds the dorje, orrests on the calf of the upturned leg. Sakya has generally curledhair, Lamas have mitres, females various head-dresses; most wearimmense ear-rings, and some rosaries. All are placed on rudepediments, so painted as to convey the idea of their rising out ofthe petals of the pink, purple, or white lotus. None are in any waydisagreeable; on the contrary most have a calm and pleasingexpression, suggestive of contemplation.

Illustration—ALTAR AND IMAGES.
Central figure Akshobya, the first of the Pancha Boodha.

The great or south temple contained a side altar of very elegantshape, placed before an image encircled by a glory. Flowers, juniper,peaco*ck's feathers, pastiles, and rows of brass cups of water werethe chief ornaments of the altars, besides the instruments I haveelsewhere enumerated. In this temple was the library, containingseveral hundred books, in pigeon-holes, placed in recesses.* [For aparticular account of the images and decorations of these temples,sea Dr. Campbell's paper in "Bengal Asiatic Society's Trans.," May,1849. The principal object of veneration amongst the Ningma or redsect of Boodhists in Sikkim and Bhotan is Gorucknath, who is alwaysrepresented sitting cross-legged, holding the dorje in one hand,which is raised; whilst the left rests in the lap and holds a cupwith a jewel in it. The left arm supports a trident, whose staffpierces three sculls (a symbol of Shiva), a rosary hangs round hisneck, and he wears a red mitre with a lunar crescent and sunin front.]

Illustration—PLAN OF THE SOUTH TEMPLE.A. entrance; B. four praying cylinders; C. altar, with seven brasscups of water; D. four columns; E. and F. images; G. library.

The effect on entering these cold and gloomy temples is veryimpressive; the Dugang in particular is exquisitely ornamented andpainted, and the vista from the vestibule to the principal idol, ofcarved and coloured pillars and beams, is very picturesque.Within, the general arrangement of the colours and gilding is felt tobe harmonious and pleasing, especially from the introduction ofslender white streaks between the contrasting masses of colour, asadopted in the Great Exhibition building of 1851. It is also wellworthy of remark that the brightest colours are often used in broadmasses, and when so, are always arranged chromatically, in thesequence of the rainbow's hues, and are hence never displeasing tothe eye. The hues, though bright, are subdued by the imperfect light:the countenances of the images are all calm, and their expressionsolemn. Whichever way you turn, the eye is met by some beautifulspecimen of colouring or carving, or some object of veneration.The effect is much heightened by the incense of juniper andsweet-smelling herbs which the priests burn on entering, by theirgrave and decorous conduct, and by the feeling of respect that isdemanded by a religion which theoretically inculcates and adoresvirtue in the abstract, and those only amongst men who practisevirtue. To the idol itself the Boodhist attaches no real importance;it is an object of reverence, not of worship, and no virtue orattribute belong to it per se; it is a symbol of the creed, and theadoration is paid to the holy man whom it represents.

Beyond the temples are the chaits and mendongs, scattered withoutmuch order; and I counted nearly twenty-five chaits of the sameform,* [In Sikkim the form of the cube alone is always strictlypreserved; that of the pyramid and hemisphere being often muchmodified. The cube stands on a flight of usually three steps, and issurmounted by a low pyramid of five steps; on this is placed aswelling, urn-shaped body, which represents the hemisphere, and issurmounted by another cube. On the latter is a slender, round orangled spire (represented by a pyramid in Burma), crowned with acrescent and disc, or sun, in moon. Generally, the whole is of stone,with the exception of the spire, which is of wood, painted red.]between eight and thirty feet high. The largest is consecrated to thememory of the Rajah's eldest son, who, however, is not buried here.A group of these structures is, as I have often remarked, extremelypicturesque, and those at Tassiding, from their number, variety, andsize, their commanding and romantic position, and their beinginterspersed with weeping cypresses, are particularly so.

The Tassiding temples and convents were founded upwards of 300 yearsago, by the Lamas who accompanied the first Rajah to Sikkim; and theyhave been continuously served by Lamas of great sanctity, many ofwhom have been educated at Lhassa. They were formerly very wealthy,but during the Nepal war they were plundered of all their treasures,their silver gongs and bells, their best idols, dorjes, and manis,and stripped of their ornaments; since which time Pemiongchi has beenmore popular. In proof of their antiquity, it was pointed out thatmost of the symbols and decorations were those of pure Lama Boodhism,as practised in Tibet.

Although the elevation is but 4,840 feet, the weather was cold andraw, with rain at noon, followed by thunder and lightning.These electrical disturbances are frequent about midsummer andmidwinter, prevailing over many parts of India.

January 1st, 1849.—The morning of the new year was bright andbeautiful, though much snow had fallen on the mountains; and we leftSunnook for Pemiongchi, situated on the summit of a lofty spur on theopposite side of the Ratong. We descended very steeply to the bed ofthe river (alt. 2,480 feet) which joins the Great Rungeet below theconvents. The rocks were micaceous, dipping west and north-west 45degrees, and striking north and north-east, which direction prevailedfor 1000 feet or so up the opposite spur. I had observed the same dipand stroke on the east flank of the Tassiding spur; but both theRatong on its west side, and the Great Rungeet on the east, flow inchannels that show no relation to either the dip or strike. I havegenerally remarked in Sikkim that the channels of the rivers whencutting through or flowing at the base of bluff cliffs, are neitherparallel to nor at right angles to the strike of the rocks formingthe cliffs. I do not hence conclude that there is no originalconnection between the directions of the rivers, and the lines offracture; but whatever may have once subsisted between the directionof the fissures and that of the strike, it is in the Sikkim Himalayanow wholly masked by shiftings, which accompanied subequentelevations and depressions.

Mr. Hopkins has mathematically demonstrated that the continuedexertion of a force in raising superimposed strata would tend toproduce two classes of fractures in those strata; those of the firstorder at right angles to the direction of the wave or ridge (or lineof strike); those of the second order parallel to the strike.Supposing the force to be withdrawn after the formation of the twofractures, the result would be a ridge, or mountain chain, withdiverging fissures from the summit, crossed by concentric fissures;and the courses which the rivers would take in flowing down theridge, would successively be at right angles and parallel to thestrike of the strata. Now, in the Himalaya, a prevalent strike to thenorth-west has been recognised in all parts of the chain, but it iseverywhere interfered with by mountains presenting every otherdirection of strike, and by their dip never remaining constant eitherin amount or direction. Consequently, as might be expected, thedirections of the river channels bear no apparent relation to thegeneral strike of the rocks.

We crossed the Ratong (twenty yards broad) by a cane bridge,suspended between two rocks of green chlorite, full of veins ofgranite. Ascending, we passed the village of Kameti on a spur, on theface of which were strewed some enormous detached blocks of whiteand pink stratified quartz: the rocks in situ were allchlorite schist.

Looking across the valley to the flank of Mainom, the disposition ofthe ridges and ravines on its sides was very evident; many of thelatter, throughout their westerly course, from their commencement at10,000 feet, to their debouchure in the Great Rungeet at 2000, had abluff, cliffy, northern flank, and a sloping southern one. The dip ofthe surfaces is, therefore, north-west, the exposure consequently ofthe villages which occupy terraces on the south flanks of the lateralvalleys. The Tassiding spur presented exactly the same arrangement ofits ravines, and the dip of the rocks being north-west, it followsthat the planes of the sloping surfaces coincide in direction (thoughnot in amount of inclination) with that of the dip of the subjacentstrata, which is anything but a usual phenomenon in Sikkim.

The ascent to Pemiongchi continued very steep, through woods of oaks,chesnuts, and magnolias, but no tree-fern, palms, Pothos, orplantain, which abound at this elevation on the moister outer rangesof Sikkim. The temple (elev. 7,083 feet) is large, eighty feet long,and in excellent order, built upon the lofty terminal point of thegreat east and west spur that divides the Kulhait from the Ratong andRungbee rivers; and the great Changachelling temple and monasterystand on another eminence of the same ridge, two miles further west.

The view of the snowy range from this temple is one of the finest inSikkim; the eye surveying at one glance the vegetation of the Tropicsand the Poles. Deep in the valleys the river-beds are but 3000 feetabove the sea, and are choked with fig-trees, plantains, and palms;to these succeed laurels and magnolias, and higher up still, oaks,chesnuts, birches, etc.; there is, however, no marked line betweenthe limits of these two last forests, which form the prevailingarboreous vegetation between 4000 and 10,000 feet, and give a luridline to the mountains. Pine forests succeed for 2000 feet higher,when they give place to a skirting of rhododendron and berberry.Among these appear black naked rocks, rising up in cliffs, betweenwhich are gulleys, down which the snow now (on the 1st January)descended to 12,000 feet. The mountain flanks are much more steep androcky than those at similar heights on the outer ranges, andcataracts are very numerous, and of considerable height, though smallin volume.

Pemiongchi is at the same elevation as Dorjiling, and the contrastbetween the shoulders of 8000 to 10,000 feet on Kinchinjunga, andthose of equal height on Tendong and Tonglo, is very remarkable:looking at the latter mountains from Dorjiling, the observer sees norock, waterfall, or pine, throughout their whole height; whereas theequally wooded flanks of these inner ranges are rocky, streaked withthread-like waterfalls, and bristling with silver firs.

This temple, the most ancient in Sikkim, is said to be 400 years old;it stands on a paved platform, and is of the same form and generalcharacter as those of Tassiding. Inside, it is most beautifullydecorated, especially the beams, columns, capitals and architraves,but the designs are coarser than those of Tassiding.* [Mr. Hodgsoninformed me that many of the figures and emblems in this temple arethose of Tantrica Boodhism, including Shiva, Devi, and other deitiesusually called Brahminical; Kakotak, or the snake king, a figureterminating below in a snake, is also seen; with the tiger, elephant,and curly-maned lion.] The square end of every beam in the roof isornamented either with a lotus flower or with a Tibetan character, inendless diversity of colour and form, and the walls are completelycovered with allegorical paintings of Lamas and saints expounding orin contemplation, with glories round their heads, mitred, and holdingthe dole and jewel.

Illustration—INTERIOR OF THE TEMPLE AT PEMIONGCHI.

The principal image is a large and hideous figure of Sakya-thoba, ina recess under a blue silk canopy, contrasting with a calm figure ofthe late Rajah, wearing a cap and coronet.

Pemiongchi was once the capital of Sikkim, and called the SikkimDurbar: the Rajah's residence was on a curious flat to the south ofthe temple, and a few hundred feet below it, where are the remains of(for this country) extensive walls and buildings. During the Nepalwar, the Rajah was driven west across the Teesta, whilst the Ghorkasplundered Tassiding, Pemiongchi, Changachelling, and all the templesand convents to the east of that river. It was then that the famoushistory of Sikkim,* [This remarkable and beautiful manuscript waswritten on thick oblong sheets of Tibet paper, painted black toresist decay, and the letters were yellow and gold. The Nepalesesoldiers wantonly employed the sheets to roof the sheds they erected,as a protection from the weather.] compiled by the Lamas ofPemiongchi, and kept at this temple, was destroyed, with theexception of a few sheets, with one of which Dr. Campbell and myselfwere each presented. We were told that the monks of Changachellingand those of this establishmont had copied what remained, and werebusy compiling from oral information, etc.: whatever value theoriginal may have possessed, however, is irretrievably lost.A magnificent copy of the Boodhist Scriptures was destroyed at thesame time; it consisted of 400 volumes, each containing severalhundred sheets of Daphne paper.

The ground about the temple was snowed; and we descended a fewhundred feet, to encamp in a most picturesque grove, among chaits andinscribed stones, with a peep of the temples above. Nightingaleswarbled deliciously night and morning, which rather surprised us, asthe minimum thermometer fell to 27.8 degrees, and the ground next daywas covered with hoar-frost; the elevation being 6,580 feet.These birds migrate hither in October and November, lingering in theHimalayan valleys till the cold of early spring drives them furthersouth, to the plains of India, whence they return north in Marchand April.

On the 2nd of January I parted from my friend, who was obliged tohurry to the great annual fair at Titalya. I regretted much beingunable to accompany Dr. Campbell to this scene of his disinterestedlabours, especially as the Nawab of Moorshedabad was to be present,one of the few wealthy native princes of Bengal who still keep acourt worth seeing; but I was more anxious to continue myexplorations northward till the latest moment: I however accompaniedhim for a short distance on his way towards Dorjiling. We passed theold Durbar, called Phieungoong ("Bamboo-hill," so named from theabundance of a small bamboo, "Phieung.") The buildings, now in ruins,occupy a little marshy flat, hemmed in by slate rocks, and coveredwith brambles and Andromeda bushes. A wall, a bastion, and anarched gateway, are the only traces of fortifications; they areclothed with mosses, lichens, and ferns.

A steep zigzag path, descending amongst long grass and scarletrhododendrons, leads to the Kaysing Mendong.* [Described at ChapterXII.] Here I bade adieu to Dr. Campbell, and toiled up the hill,feeling very lonely. The zest with which he had entered into all mypursuits, and the aid he had afforded me, together with the charmthat always attends companionship with one who enjoys every incidentof travel, had so attracted me to him that I found it difficult torecover my spirits. It is quite impossible for anyone who cannotfrom experience realise the solitary wandering life I had beenleading for months, to appreciate the desolate feeling that followsthe parting from one who has heightened every enjoyment, and takenfar more than his share of every annoyance and discomfort: the fewdays we had spent together appeared then, and still, as months.

On my return to Pemiongchi I spent the remainder of the day sketchingin the great temple, gossiping with the Lamas, and drinking saltedand buttered tea-soup, which I had begun to like, when the butter wasnot rancid.

My route hence was to be along the south flank of Kinchinjunga, northto Jongri, which lay about four or five marches off, on the road tothe long deserted pass of Kanglanamo, by which I had intendedentering Sikkim from Nepal, when I found the route up the Yalloongvalley impracticable. The village and ruined convents of Yoksun laynear the route, and the temples of Doobdi, Catsuperri and Molli, onthe Ratong river.

I descended to the village of Tchonpong (alt. 4,980 feet), where Iwas detained a day to obtain rice, of which I required ten days'supply for twenty-five people. On the way I passed groves of thepaper-yielding Edgeworthia Gardneri: it bears round heads offragrant, beautiful, yellow flowers, and would be a valuableacquisition to an English conservatory.

From Tchonpong we descended to the bed of the Rungbee (alt. 3,160feet), an affluent of the Ratong, flowing in a deep galley withprecipitous sides of mica schist full of garnets, dipping west andnorth-west 45 degrees: it was spanned by a bridge of two loose bambooculms, about fifteen yards long, laid across without handrails; afterwet sand had been thrown on it the bare-footed coolies crossedeasily enough, but I, having shoes on, required a hand to steady me.From this point we crossed a lofty spur to the Ratong (alt. 3000feet), where we encamped, the coolies being unable to proceed furtheron such very bad roads. This river descends from the snows ofKinchin, and consequently retains the low temperature 42 degrees,being fully 7 degrees colder than the Rungbee, which at an elevationof but 3000 feet appears very remarkable: it must however be observedthat scarcely anywhere does the sun penetrate to the bottom ofits valley.

We encamped on a gravelly flat, fifty feet above the river, strewnwith water-worn boulders, and so densely covered with tallArtemisiae, gigantic grasses, bamboo, plantain, fern, and acacia,that we had to clear a space in the jungle, which exhaled a rankheavy smell.

Hoar-frost formed copiously in the night, and though above the sun'srays were very powerful, they did not reach this spot till 7.30 a.m.,the frost remaining in the shade till nearly 9 a.m.; and this onplantains, and other inhabitants of hot-houses in England.

Hence I ascended to Yoksun, one of the most curious and picturesquespots in Sikkim, and the last inhabited place towards Kinchinjunga.The path was excessively steep and rocky for the first mile or two,and then alternately steep and flat. Mixed with many tropical trees,were walnuts of the common English variety; a tree, which, thoughplanted here, is wild near Dorjiling, where it bears a full-sizedfruit, as hard as a hickory-nut: those I gathered in this place weresimilar, whereas in Bhotan the cultivated nut is larger,thin-shelled, and the kernel is easily removed. We ascended oneslope, of an angle of 36 degrees 30 minutes, which was covered withlight black mould, and had been recently cleared by fire: we foundmillet now cultivated on it. From the top the view of the Ratongvalley was very fine: to the north lay Yoksun, appearing from thisheight to occupy a flat, two miles long and one broad, girdled bysteep mountains to the north and east, dipping very suddenly 2,200feet to the Ratong on the west. To the right was a lofty hill,crowned with the large temple and convents of Doobdi, shadowed bybeautiful weeping cypresses, and backed by lofty pine-clad mountains.Northward, the gorge of the Ratong opened as a gloomy defile, abovewhich rose partially snowed mountains, which shut out Kinchinjunga.To the west, massive pine-clad mountains rose steeply; while thelittle hamlet of Lathiang occupied a remarkable shelf overhanging theriver, appearing inaccessible except by ropes from above. South-west,the long spurs of Molli and Catsuperri, each crowned with convents ortemples, descended from Singalelah; and parallel to them on thesouth; but much longer and more lofty, was the great mountain rangenorth of the Kulbait, with the temples and convents of Pemiongchi,and Changachelling, towering in the air. The latter range dipssuddenly to the Great Rungeet, where Tassiding, with its chaits andcypresses, closed the view. The day was half cloud, half sunshine;and the various effects of light and shade, now bringing out one orother of the villages and temples, now casting the deep valleys intodarker gloom, was wonderfully fine.

Yoksun was the earliest civilised corner of Sikkim, and derived itsname (which signifies in Lepcha "three chiefs") from having been theresidence of three Lamas of great influence, who were the means ofintroducing the first Tibetan sovereign into the country. At presentit boasts of but little cultivation, and a scattered population,inhabiting a few hamlets, 5,500 feet above the sea: beautiful lanesand paths wind everywhere over the gentle slopes, and through thecopsewood that has replaced the timber-trees of a former period.Mendongs and chaits are very numerous, some of great size; and thereare also the ruins of two very large temples, near which are somemagnificent weeping cypresses, eighty feet high. These fine trees arelandmarks from all parts of the flat; they form irregular cones ofpale bright green, with naked gnarled tops, the branches weepgracefully, but not like the picture in Macartney's Embassy to China,whence originated the famous willow-pattern of our crockery.The ultimate branchlets are very slender and pendulous; my Lepchaboys used to make elegant chaplets of them, binding the withes withscarlet worsted. The trunk is quite erect, smooth, cylindrical, andpine-like; it harbours no moss, but air-plants, Orchids, and ferns,nestle on the limbs, and pendulous lichens, like our beard-moss, wavefrom the branches.

In the evening I ascended to Doobdi. The path was broad, andskilfully conducted up a very steep slope covered with forest: thetop, which is 6,470 feet above the sea, and nearly 1000 above Yoksun,is a broad partially paved platform, on which stand two temples,surrounded by beautiful cypresses: one of these trees (perhaps theoldest in Sikkim) measured sixteen and a half feet in girth, at fivefeet from the ground, and was apparently ninety feet high: it was notpyramidal, the top branches being dead and broken, and the lowerlimbs spreading; they were loaded with masses of white-floweredCoelogynes, and Vacciniums. The younger trees were pyramidal.

I was received by a monk of low degree, who made many apologies forthe absence of his superior, who had been ordered an eight years'penance and seclusion from the world, of which only three had passed.On inquiry, I learnt the reason for this; the holy father havingfound himself surrounded by a family, to which there would have beenno objection, had he previously obtained a dispensation. As, however,he had omitted this preliminary, and was able to atone by prayer andpayment, he had been condemned to do penance; probably at his ownsuggestion, as the seclusion will give him sanctity, and eventuallylead to his promotion, when his error shall have been forgotten.

Illustration—TEMPLE AND WEEPING CYPRESS.

Both temples are remarkable for their heavily ornamented, two-storiedporticos, which occupy nearly the whole of one end. The interiordecorations are in a ruinous condition, and evidently very old; theyhave no Hindoo emblems.

The head Lama sent me a present of dried peaches, with a bag ofwalnuts, called "Koal-kun" by the Lepchas, and "Taga-sching" by theBhoteeas; the two terminations alike signifying "tree."

The view of Yoksun from this height was very singular: it had theappearance of an enormous deposit banked up against a spur to thesouth, and mountains to the east, and apparently levelled by theaction of water: this deposit seemed as though, having oncecompletely filled the valley of the Ratong, that river had cut agorge 2000 feet deep between it and the opposite mountain.

Although the elevation is so low, snow falls abundantly at Doobdi inwinter; I was assured that it has been known of the depth of fivefeet, a statement I consider doubtful; the quantity is, however,certainly greater than at equal heights about Dorjiling, no doubtowing to its proximity to Kinchinjunga.

I was amused here by watching a child playing with a popgun, made ofbamboo, similar to that of quill, with which most English childrenare familiar, which propels pellets by means of a spring-trigger madeof the upper part of the quill. It is easy to conclude suchresemblances between the familiar toys of different countries to beaccidental, but I question their being really so. On the plains ofIndia, men may often be seen for hours together, flying what with usare children's kites; and I procured a jews'-harp from Tibet.These are not the toys of savages, but the amusem*nts of people morethan half-civilised, and with whom we have had indirect communicationfrom the earliest ages. The Lepchas play at quoits, using slate forthe purpose, and at the Highland games of "putting the stone" and"drawing the stone." Chess, dice, draughts, Punch, hockey, andbattledore and shuttleco*ck, are all Indo-Chinese or Tartarian; and noone familiar with the wonderful instances of similarity between themonasteries, ritual, ceremonies, attributes, vestments, and otherparaphernalia of the eastern and western churches, can fail toacknowledge the importance of recording even the most triflinganalogies or similarities between the manners and customs of theyoung as well as of the old.

Leave Yoksun for Kinchinjunga — Ascend Ratong valley —
Salt-smuggling over Ratong — Landslips — Plants — Buckeem —
Blocks of gneiss — Mon Lepcha — View — Weather — View from Gubroo
— Kinchinjunga, tops of — Pundim cliff — Nursing — Vegetation of
Himalaya — Coup d'oeil of Jongri — Route to Yalloong — Arduous
route of salt-traders from Tibet — Kinchin, ascent of — Lichens —
Surfaces sculptured by snow and ice — Weather at Jongri — Snow —
Shades for eyes.

I left Yoksun on an expedition to Kinchinjunga on the 7th of January.It was evident that at this season I could not attain any height; butI was most anxious to reach the lower limit of that mass of perpetualsnow which descends in one continuous sweep from 28,000 to 15,000feet, and radiates from the summit of Kinchin, along every spur andshoulder for ten to fifteen miles, towards each point of the compass.

The route lay for the first mile over the Yoksun flat, and then woundalong the almost precipitous east flank of the Ratong, 1000 feetabove its bed, leading through thick forest. It was often difficult,crossing torrents by calms of bamboo, and leading up precipices bynotched poles and roots of trees. I wondered what could have inducedthe frequenting of such a route to Nepal, when there were so manybetter ones over Singalelah, till I found from my guide that he hadhabitually smuggled salt over this pass to avoid the oppressive dutylevelled by the Dewan on all imports from Tibet by the easternpasses: he further told me that it took five days to reach Yalloongin Nepal front Yoksun, on the third of which the Kanglanamo pass iscrossed, which is open from April to November, but is always heavilysnowed. Owing to this duty, and the remoteness of the eastern passes,the people on the west side of the Great Rungeet were compelled topay an enormous sum for salt; and the Lamas of Changachelling andPemiongchi petitioned Dr. Campbell to use his influence with theNepal Court to have the Kanglanamo pass re-opened, and the power oftrading with the Tibetans of Wallanchoon, Yangma, and Kambachen,restored to them: the pass having been closed since the Nepalese war,to prevent the Sikkim people from kidnapping children and slaves, aswas alleged to be their custom.* [An accusation in which there wasprobably some truth; for the Sikkim Dingpun, who guided Dr. Campbelland myself to Mainom, Tassiding, etc., since kidnapped, or caused tobe abducted, a girl of Brahmin parents, from the Mai valley of Nepal,a transaction which cost him some 300 rupees. The Nepal Durbar wasnaturally furious, the more so as the Dingpun had no caste, and wastherefore abhorred by all Brahmins. Restitution was demanded throughDr. Campbell, who caused the incensed Dingpun to give up his paramourand her jewels. He vowed vengeance against Dr. Campbell, and foundmeans to gratify it, as I shall hereafter show.]

We passed some immense landslips, which had swept the forest into thetorrent, and exposed white banks of angular detritus of gneiss andgranite: we crossed one 200 yards long, by a narrow treacherous path,on a slope of 35 degrees: the subjacent gneiss was nearly vertical,striking north-east. We camped at 6,670 feet, amongst a vegetation Ilittle expected to find so close to the snows of Kinchin; itconsisted of oak, maple, birch, laurel, rhododendron, whiteDaphne, jessamine, Arum, Begonia, Cyrtandraceae, pepper,fig, Menispermum, wild cinnamon, Scitamineae, several epiphyticorchids, vines, and ferns in great abundance.

On the following day, I proceeded north-west up the Ratong river,here a furious torrent; which we crossed, and then ascended a verysteep mountain called "Mon Lepcha." Immense detached masses ofgneiss, full of coarse garnets, lay on the slope, some of which werecuriously marked with a series of deep holes, large enough to putone's fist in, and said to be the footprints of the sacred cow.They appeared to me to have been caused by the roots of trees, whichspread over the rocks in these humid regions, and wear channels inthe hardest material, especially when they follow the direction ofits lamination or stratification.

I encamped at a place called Buckeem (alt. 8,650 ft.), in a forest ofAbies Brunoniana and Webbiana, yew, oak, various rhododendrons,and small bamboo. Snow lay in patches at 8000 feet, and the night wascold and clear. On the following morning I continued the ascent,alternately up steeps and along perfectly level shelves, on whichwere occasionally frozen pools, surrounded with dwarf juniper andrhododendrons. Across one I observed the track of a yak in the snow;it presented two ridges, probably from the long hair of this animal,which trails on the ground, sweeping the snow from the centre of itspath. At 11,000 feet the snow lay deep and soft in the woods ofsilver fir, and the coolies waded through it with difficulty.

Enormous fractured boulders of gneiss were frequent over the whole ofMon Lepcha, from 7000 to 11,000 feet: they were of the same materialas the rock in situ, and as unaccountable in their origin as theloose blocks on Dorjiling and Sinchul spurs at similar elevations,often cresting narrow ridges. I measured one angular detached block,forty feet high, resting on a steep narrow shoulder of the spur, in aposition to which it was impossible it could have rolled; and it isequally difficult to suppose that glacial ice deposited it 4000 feetabove the bottom of the gorge, except we conclude the valley to havebeen filled with ice to that depth. A glance at the map will showthat Mon Lepcha is remarkably situated, opposite the face ofKinchinjunga, and at the great bend of the Ratong. Had that valleyever been filled with water during a glacial period, Mon Lepcha wouldhave formed a promontory, and many floating bergs from Kinchin wouldhave been stranded on its flank: but I nowhere observed these rocksto be of so fine a granite as I believe the upper rocks of Kinchin tobe, and I consequently cannot advance even that far-fetched solutionwith much plausibility.

As I ascended, the rocks became more granitic, with large crystals ofmica. The summit was another broad bare flat, elevated 13,080 feet,and fringed by a copse of rose, berberry, and very alpinerhododendrons: the Himalayan heather (Adromeda fastigiata) grewabundantly here, affording us good fuel.

The toilsome ascent through the soft snow and brushwood delayed thecoolies, who scarcely accomplished five miles in the day. Some ofthem having come up by dark, I prepared to camp on the mountain-top,strewing thick masses of Andromeda and moss (which latter hung ingreat tufts from the bushes) on the snow; my blankets bad notarrived, but there was no prospect of a snow-storm.

The sun was powerful when I reached the summit, and I was so warmthat I walked about barefoot on the frozen snow withoutinconvenience, preferring it to continuing in wet stockings: thetemperature at the time was 29.5 degrees, with a brisk south-eastmoist wind, and the dew point 22.8 degrees.

The night was magnificent, brilliant starlight, with a pale mist overthe mountains: the thermometer fell to 15.5 degrees at 7.30 p.m., andone laid upon wood with its bulb freely exposed, sank to 7.5 degrees:the snow sparkled with broad flakes of hoar-frost in the full moon,which was so bright, that I recorded my observations by its light.Owing to the extreme cold of radiation, I passed a very uncomfortablenight. The minimum thermometer fell to 1 degrees in shade.* [Atsunrise the temperature was 11.5 degrees; that of grass, cleared onthe previous day from snow, and exposed to the sky, 6.5 degrees; thaton wool, 2.2 degrees; and that on the surface of the snow, 0.7degrees.] The sky was clear; and every rock, leaf, twig, blade ofgrass, and the snow itself, were covered with broad rhomboidal platesof hoar-frost, nearly one-third of an inch across: while the metalscale of the thermometer instantaneously blistered my tongue. As thesun rose, the light reflected from these myriads of facets had asplendid effect.

Before sunrise the atmosphere was still, and all but cloudless.To the south-east were visible the plains of India, at least 140miles distant; where, as usual, horizontal layers of leaden purplevapour obscured the horizon: behind these the sun rose majestically,instantly dispersing them, while a thin haze spread over all theintervening mountains, from its slanting beams reaching me throughotherwise imperceptible vapours: these, as the sun mounted higher,again became invisible, though still giving that transparency to theatmosphere and brilliant definition of the distances, socharacteristic of a damp, yet clear day.

Mon Lepcha commands a most extensive view of Sikkim, southward toDorjiling. At my feet lay the great and profound valley of theRatong, a dark gulf of vegetation. Looking northward, the eyefollowed that river to the summit of Kinchinjunga (distant eighteenmiles), which fronts the beholder as Mont Blanc does when seen fromthe mountains on the opposite side of the valley of Chamouni. To theeast are the immense precipices and glaciers of Pundim, and on thewest those of Kubra, forming great supporters to the stupendousmountain between them. Mon Lepcha itself is a spur running south-eastfrom the Kubra shoulder: it is very open, and covered with roundedhills for several miles further north, terminating in a conspicuousconical black hummock* [This I have beau told is the true Kubra; andthe great snowy mountain behind it, which I here, in conformity withthe Dorjiling nomenclature, call Kubra, has no name, being considereda part of Kinchin.] called Gubroo, of 15,000 feet elevation, whichpresents a black cliff to the south.

Kinchinjunga rises in three heads, of nearly equal height,* [Theeastern and western tops, are respectively 27,826 and 28,177 feetabove the level of the sea.] which form a line running north-west.It exposes many white or grey rocks, bare of snow, and disposed instrata* [I am aware that the word strata is inappropriate here; theappearance of stratification or bedding, if it indicate any structureof the rock, being, I cannot doubt, due to that action which givesparallel cleavage planes to granite in many parts of the world, andto which the so-called lamination or foliation of slate and gneiss issupposed by many geologists to be due. It is not usual to find thisstructure so uniformly and conspicuously developed through largemasses of granite, as it appeared to me to be on the sides ofKinchinjunga and on the top of Junnoo, as seen from the Choonjermapass (Chapter XI, plate); but it is sometimes very conspicuous, andnowhere more than in the descent of the Grimsel towards Meyringen,where the granite on the east flank of that magnificent gorge seemscleft into parallel nearly vertical strata.] sloping to the west; thecolour of all which above 20,000 feet, and the rounded knobbed formof the summit, suggest a granitic formation. Lofty snowed ridgesproject from Kubra into the Ratong valley, presenting blackprecipices of stratified rocks to the southward. Pundim has a verygrand appearance; being eight miles distant, and nearly 9000 feetabove Mon Lepcha, it subtends an angle of 12 degrees; while Kinchintop, though 15,000 feet higher than Mon Lepcha, being eighteen milesdistant, rises only 9 degrees 30 minutes above the true horizon:these angular heights are too small to give much grandeur andapparent elevation to mountains, however lofty; nor would they do soin this case, were it not that the Ratong valley which intervenes, isseen to be several thousand feet lower, and many degrees below thereal horizon.

Illustration—KINCHINJUNGA AND PUNDIM FROM MON LEPCHA.

Pundim has a tremendous precipice to the south, which, to judge fromits bareness of snow, must be nearly perpendicular; and it presenteda superb geological section. The height of this precipice I found byangles with a pocket sextant to be upwards of 3,400 feet, and that ofits top to be 21,300 above the sea, and consequently only 715 feetless than that of the summit of Pundim itself (which is 22,015 feet).This cliff is of black stratified rocks, sloping to the west, andprobably striking north-west; permeated from top to bottom by veinsof white granite, disposed in zigzag lines, which produce acontortion of the gneiss, and give it a marbled appearance. The samestructure may be seen in miniature on the transported blocks whichabound in the Sikkim rivers; where veins of finely grained graniteare forced in all directions through the gneiss, and form parallelseams or beds between the laminae of that rock, united by transverseseams, and crumpling up the gneiss itself, like the crushed leaves ofa book. The summit of Pundim itself is all of white rock, rounded inshape, and forming a cap to the gneiss, which weathers intoprecipices.

A succession of ridges, 14,000 to 18,000 feet high, presented a lineof precipices running south from Pundim for several miles: immensegranite veins are exposed on their surfaces, and they are capped bystratified rocks, sloping to the east, and apparently striking to thenorth-west, which, being black, contrast strongly with the whitegranite beneath them: these ridges, instead of being round-topped,are broken into splintered crags, behind which rises the beautifulconical peak of Nursing, 19,139 feet above the sea, eight milesdistant, and subtending an angle of 8 degrees 30 minutes.

At the foot of these precipices was a very conspicuous series oflofty moraines, round whose bases the Ratong wound; these appeared ofmuch the same height, rising several hundred feet above the valley:they were comparatively level-topped, and had steep shelvingrounded sides.

I have been thus particular in describing the upper Ratong valley,because it drains the south face of the loftiest mountain on theglobe; and I have introduced angular heights, and been precise in mydetails, because the vagueness with which all terms are usuallyapplied to the apparent altitude and steepness of mountains andprecipices, is apt to give false impressions. It is essential toattend to such points where scenery of real interest and importanceis to be described. It is customary to speak of peaks as towering inthe air, which yet subtend an angle of very few degrees; of almostprecipitous ascents, which, when measured, are found to be slopes of18 degrees or 20 degrees; and of cliffs as steep and stupendous,which are inclined at a very moderate angle.

The effect of perspective is as often to deceive in details as togive truth to general impressions; and those accessories aresometimes wanting in nature, which, when supplied by art, give truthto the landscape. Thus, a streak of clouds adds height to a peakwhich should appear lofty, but which scarcely rises above the truehorizon; and a belt of mist will sunder two snowy mountains which,though at very different distances, for want of a play of light andshade on their dazzling surfaces, and from the extreme transparencyof the air in lofty regions, appear to be at the same distance fromthe observer.

The view to the southward from Mon Lepcha, including the countrybetween the sea-like plains of India and the loftiest mountain on theglobe, is very grand, and neither wanting in variety nor in beauty.From the deep valleys choked with tropical luxuriance to the scantyyak pasturage on the heights above, seems but a step at the firstcoup-d'oceil, but resolves itself on a closer inspection into fivebelts: 1, palm and plantain; 2, oak and laurel; 3, pine;4, rhododendron and grass; and 5, rock and snow. From the bed of theRatong, in which grow palms with screw-pine and plantain, it is onlyseven miles in a direct line to the perpetual ice. From the plains ofIndia, or outer Himalaya, one may behold snowy peaks rise in thedistance behind a foreground of tropical forest; here, on thecontrary, all the intermediate phases of vegetation are seen at aglance. Except in the Himalaya this is no common phenomenon, and isowing to the very remarkable depth of the river-beds. That part ofthe valley of the Ratong where tropical vegetation ceases, is but4000 feet above the sea, and though fully fifty miles as the crowflies (and perhaps 200 by the windings of the river) from the plainsof India, is only eight in a straight line (and forty by thewindings) from the snows which feed that river. In other words, thedescent is so rapid, that in eight miles the Ratong waters everyvariety of vegetation, from the lichen of the poles to the palm ofthe tropics; whilst throughout the remainder of its mountain course,it falls from 4000 to 300 feet, flowing amongst tropical scenery,through a valley whose flanks rise from 5000 to 12,000 feet aboveits bed.

From Mon Lepcha we proceeded north-west towards Jongri, along a veryopen rounded bare mountain, covered with enormous boulders of gneiss,of which the subjacent rock is also composed. The soil is a thickclay full of angular stones, everywhere scooped out into littledepressions which are the dry beds of pools, and are often strewedwith a thin layer of pebbles. Black tufts of alpine aromaticrhododendrons of two kinds (R. anthopogon and setosum), withdwarf juniper, comprised all the conspicuous vegetation atthis season.

After a two hours' walk, keeping at 13,000 feet elevation, we sightedJongri.* [I am assured by Capt. Sherwill, who, in 1852, proceededalong and surveyed the Nepal frontier beyond this point to Gubroo,that this is not Jongri, but Yangpoong. The difficulty of gettingprecise information, especially as to the names of seldom-visitedspots, is very great. I was often deceived myself, undesignedly, I amsure, on the part of my informants; but in this case I have Dr.Campbell's assurance, who has kindly investigated the subject, thatthere is no mistake on my part. Captain Sherwill has also kindlycommunicated to me a map of the head waters of the Rungbee, Yungya,and Yalloong rivers, of which, being more correct than my own, I havegladly availed myself for my map. Gubroo, he informs me, is 15,000feet in altitude, and dips in a precipice 1000 feet high, facingKubra, which prevented his exploring further north.] There were twostone huts on the bleak face of the spur, scarcely distinguishable atthe distance of half a mile from the great blocks around them.To the north Gubroo rose in dismal grandeur, backed by the dazzlingsnows of Kubra, which now seemed quite near, its lofty top (alt.24,005 feet) being only eight miles distant. Much snow lay on theground in patches, and there were few remains of herbaceousvegetation; those I recognised were chiefly of poppy, Potentilla,gentian, geranium, fritillary, Umbelliferae, grass, and sedges.

On our arrival at the huts the weather was still fine, with a strongnorth-west wind, which meeting the warm moist current from the Ratongvalley, caused much precipitation of vapour. As I hoped to be able tovisit the surrounding glaciers from this spot, I made arrangementsfor a stay of some days: giving up the only habitable hut to mypeople, I spread my blankets in a slope from its roof to the ground,building a little stone dyke round the skirts of my dwelling, and afire-place in front.

Hence to Yalloong in Nepal, by the Kanglanamo pass, is two days'march: the route crosses the Singalelah range at an elevation ofabout 15,000 feet, south of Kubra, and north of a mountain that formsa conspicuous feature south-west from Jongri, as a crest of blackfingered peaks, tipped with snow.

It is difficult to conceive the amount of labour expended upon everypound of salt imported into this part of Sikkim from Tibet, and as anenumeration of the chief features of the routes it must follow, willgive some idea of what the circuit of the loftiest mountain in theglobe involves, I shall briefly allude to them; premising that thecircuit of Mont Blanc may be easily accomplished in four days.The shortest route to Yoksun (the first village south of Kinchin)from the nearest Tibetan village north of that mountain, involves adetour of one-third of the circumference of Kinchin. It is evidentthat the most direct way must be that nearest the mountain-top, andtherefore that which reaches the highest accessible elevation on itsshoulders, and which, at the same time, dips into the shallowestvalleys between those shoulders. The actual distance in a straightline is about fifty miles, from Yoksun to the mart at or nearTashirukpa.

The marches between them are as follows:—
1. To Yalloong two days; crossing Kanglanamo pass, 15,000 feet high.
3. To foot of Choonjerma pass, descending to 10,000 feet.
4. Cross Choonjerma pass, 15,260 feet, and proceed to Kambachen,
11,400 feet.
5. Cross Nango pass, 15,770, and camp on Yangma river, 11,000 feet.
6. Ascend to foot of Kanglachem pass, and camp at 15,000 feet.
7. Cross Kanglachem pass, probably 16,500 feet; and
8-10. It is said to be three marches hence to the Tibetan
custom-house, and that two more snowy passes are crossed.

This allows no day of rest, and gives only five miles—as the crowflies—to be accomplished each day, but I assume fully fourteen ofroad distance; the labour spent in which would accomplish fullythirty over good roads. Four snowed passes at least are crossed, allabove 15,000 feet, and after the first day the path does not descendbelow 10,000 feet. By this route about one-third of the circuit ofKinchinjunga is accomplished. Supposing the circuit were to becompleted by the shortest practicable route, that is, keeping as nearthe summit as possible, the average time required for a man with hisload would be upwards of a month.

To reach Tashirukpa by the eastern route from Yoksun, being a journeyof about twenty-five days, requires a long detour to the southwardand eastward, and afterwards the ascent of the Teesta valley, toKongra Lama, and so north to the Tibetan Arun.

My first operation after encamping and arranging my instruments, wasto sink the ground thermometer; but the earth being frozen forsixteen inches, it took four men several hours' work with hammer andchisel, to penetrate so deep. There was much vegetable matter for thefirst eight or ten inches, and below that a fine red clay. I spentthe afternoon, which was fine, in botanising. When the sun shone, thesmell of the two rhododendrons was oppressive, especially as a littleexertion at this elevation brings on headache. There were few mosses;but crustaceous lichens were numerous, and nearly all of them ofScotch, Alpine, European, and Arctic kinds. The names of these, givenby the classical Linnaeus and Wahlenberg, tell in some cases of theirbirth-places, in others of their hardihood, their lurid colours andweather-beaten aspects; such as tristis, gelida, glacialis, arctica,alpina, saxatilis, polaris, frigida, and numerous others equallyfamiliar to the Scotch botanist. I recognised many as natives of thewild mountains of Cape Horn, and the rocks of the stormy Antarcticocean; since visiting which regions I had not gathered them.The lichen called geographicus was most abundant, and is found toindicate a certain degree of cold in every latitude; descending tothe level of the sea in latitude 52 degrees north, and 50 degreessouth, but in lower latitudes only to be seen on mountains.It flourishes at 10,000 feet on the Himalaya, ascending thence to18,000 feet. Its name, however, was not intended to indicate its widerange, but the curious maplike patterns which its yellow crust formson the rocks.

Of the blocks of gneiss scattered over the Jongri spur, many aretwenty feet in diameter. The ridge slopes gently south-west to theChoroong river, and more steeply north-east to the Ratong, facingKinchin: it rises so very gradually to a peaked mountain betweenJongri and Kubra, that it is not possible to account for thetransport and deposit of these boulders by glaciers of the ordinaryform, viz., by a stream of ice following the course of a valley; andwe are forced to speculate upon the possibility of ice having cappedthe whole spur, and moved downwards, transporting blocks from theprominences on various parts of the spur.

The cutting up of the whole surface of this rounded mountain intolittle pools, now dry, of all sizes, from ten to about one hundredyards in circumference, is a very striking phenomenon. The streamsflow in shallow transverse valleys, each passing through a successionof such pools, accompanying a step-like character of the generalsurface. The beds are stony, becoming more so where they enter thepools, upon several of the larger of which I observed curving ridgesof large stones, radiating outwards on to their beds from eithermargin of the entering stream: more generally large stones weredeposited opposite every embouchure.

This superficial sculpturing must have been a very recent operation;and the transport of the heavy stones opposite the entrance of thestreams has been effected by ice, and perhaps by snow; just as thearctic ice strews the shores of the Polar ocean with rocks.

The weather had been threatening all day, northern and westerlycurrents contending aloft with the south-east trade-wind of Sikkim,and meeting in strife over the great upper valley of the Ratong.Stately masses of white cumuli wheeled round that gulf of glaciers,partially dissipating in an occasional snow-storm, but on the wholegradually accumulating.

On my arrival the thermometer was 32 degrees, with a powerful sunshining, and it fell to 28 degrees at 4 p.m., when the north wind setin. At sunset the moon rose through angry masses of woolly cirrus;its broad full orb threw a flood of yellow light over the serriedtops south of Pundim; thence advancing obliquely towards Nursing, "itstood tip-toe" for a few minutes on that beautiful pyramid of snow,whence it seemed to take flight and mount majestically into mid-air,illuminating Kinchin, Pundim, and Kubra.

I sat at the entrance of my gipsy-like hut, anxiously watching theweather, and absorbed in admiration of the moonrise, from which mythoughts were soon diverted by its fading light as it entered a densemass of mare's-tail cirrus. It was very cold, and the stillness wasoppressive. I had been urged not to attempt such an ascent inJanuary, my provisions were scanty, firewood only to be obtained fromsome distance, the open undulating surface of Jongri was particularlyexposed to heavy snow-drifts, and the path was, at the best, ascarcely perceptible track. I followed every change of the wind,every fluctuation of the barometer and thermometer, each accession ofhumidity, and the courses of the clouds aloft. At 7 p.m., the windsuddenly shifted to the west, and the thermometer instantly rose from20 degrees to 30 degrees. After 8 p.m., the temperature fell again,and the wind drew round from west by south to north-east, when thefog cleared off. The barometer rose no more than it usually doestowards 10 p.m., and though it clouded again, with the temperature at17 degrees, the wind seemed steady, and I went to bed with arelieved mind.

Jan. 10.—During the night the temperature fell to 11.2 degrees,and at 6 a.m. was 19.8 degrees, falling again to 17 degrees soonafter. Though clouds were rapidly coming up from the west andsouth-west, the wind remained northerly till 8 a.m., when it shiftedto south-west, and the temperature rose to 25 degrees. As itcontinued fine, with the barometer high, I ventured on a walk towardsGubroo, carefully taking bearings of my position. I found a good manyplants in a rocky valley close to that mountain, which I in vainattempted to ascend. The air was 30 degrees, with a strong and dampsouth-west wind, and the cold was so piercing, that two lads who werewith me, although walking fast, became benumbed, and could not returnwithout assistance. At 11 a.m., a thick fog obliged us to retrace oursteps: it was followed by snow in soft round pellets like sago, thatswept across the hard ground. During the afternoon it snowedunceasingly, the wind repeatedly veering round the compass, alwaysfrom west to east by south, and so by north to west again. The flakeswere large, soft, and moist with the south wind, and small, hard, anddry with the north. Glimpses of blue sky were constantly seen to thesouth, under the gloomy canopy above, but they augured no change.As darkness came on, the temperature fell to 15 degrees, and itsnowed very hard; at 6 p.m., it was 11 degrees, but rose afterwardsto 18 degrees.

The night was very cold and wintry: I sat for some hours behind ablanket screen (which had to be shifted every few minutes) at mytent-door, keeping up a sulky fire, and peering through the snow forsigns of improvement, but in vain. The clouds were not dense, for themoon's light was distinct, shining on the glittering snow-flakesthat fell relentlessly: my anxiety was great, and I could not helpcensuring myself severely for exposing a party to so great danger atsuch a season. I found comfort in the belief that no idle curiosityhad prompted me, and that with a good motive and a strong prestige ofsuccess, one can surmount a host of difficulties. Still the snowfell; and my heart sank, as my fire declined, and the flakessputtered on the blackening embers; my little puppy, who hadgambolled all day amongst the drifting white pellets, now whined, andcrouched under my thick woollen cloak; the inconstant searching winddrifted the snow into the tent, whose roof so bagged in with theaccumulation that I had to support it with sticks, and dreaded beingsmothered, if the weight should cause it to sink upon my bed duringmy sleep. The increasing cold drove me, however, to my blankets, andtaking the precaution of stretching a tripod stand over my head, soas to leave a breathing hole, by supporting the roof if it fell in, Islept soundly, with my dog at my feet.

At sunrise the following morning the sky was clear, with a lightnorth wind; about two feet of snow had fallen, the drifts were deep,and all trace of the path obliterated. The minimum thermometer hadfallen to 3.7 degrees, the temperature rose to 27 degrees at 9 a.m.,after which the wind fell, and with it the thermometer to 18 degrees.Soon, however, southerly breezes set in, bringing up heavy massesof clouds.

My light-hearted companions cheerfully prepared to leave the ground;they took their appointed loads without a murmur, and soughtprotection for their eyes from the glare of the newly fallen snow,some with as much of my crape veil as I could spare, others withshades of brown paper, or of hair from the yaks' tails, whilst a fewhad spectacle-shades of woven hair; and the Lepchas loosened theirpigtails, and combed their long hair over their eyes and faces. It isfrom fresh-fallen snow alone that much inconvenience is felt; owing,I suppose, to the light reflected from the myriads of facets whichthe crystals of snow present. I have never suffered inconvenience incrossing beds of old snow, or glaciers with weathered surfaces, whichabsorb a great deal of light, and reflect comparatively little, andthat little coloured green or blue.

The descent was very laborious, especially through the several milesof bush and rock which lie below the summit: so that, although westarted at 10 a.m., it was dark by the time we reached Buckeem, wherewe found two lame coolies, whom we had left on our way up, and whowere keeping up a glorious fire for our reception.

Illustration—MAITRYA, THE SIXTH OR COMING BOODH.

Ratong river below Mon Lepcha — Ferns — Vegetation of Yoksun,
tropical — Araliaceae, fodder for cattle — Rice-paper plant —
Geology of Yoksun — Lake — Old temples — Funereal cypresses —
Gigantic chait — Altars — Songboom — Weather — Catsuperri —
Velocity of Ratong — Worship at Catsuperri lake — Scenery — Willow
— Lamas and ecclesiastical establishments of Sikkim — Tengling —
Changachelling temples and monks — Portrait of myself on walls —
Block of mica-schist — Lingcham Kajee asks for spectacles —
Hee-hill — Arrive at Little Rungeet — At Dorjiling — Its deserted
and wintry appearance.

On the following day we marched to Yoksun: the weather was fair,though it was evidently snowing on the mountains above. I halted atthe Ratong river, at the foot of Mon Lepcha, where I found itselevation to be 7,150 feet; its edges were frozen, and thetemperature of the water 36 degrees; it is here a furious torrentflowing between gneiss rocks which dip south-south-east, and isflanked by flat-topped beds of boulders, gravel and sand, twelve tofourteen feet thick. Its vegetation resembles that of Dorjiling, butis more alpine, owing no doubt to the proximity of Kinchinjunga.The magnificent Rhododendron argenteum was growing on its banks.On the other hand, I was surprised to see a beautiful fern (aTrichomanes, very like the Irish one) which is not found atDorjiling. The same day, at about the same elevation, I gatheredsixty species of fern, many of very tropical forms.* [They consistedof the above-mentioned Trichomanes, three Hymenophyllae, Vittaria,Pleopeltis, and Marattia, together with several Selaginellas.]No doubt the range of such genera is extended in proportion to theextreme damp and equable climate, here, as about Dorjiling.Tree-ferns are however absent, and neither plantains, epiphyticalOrchideae, nor palms, are so abundant, or ascend so high as on theouter ranges. About Yoksun itself, which occupies a very warmsheltered flat, many tropical genera occur, such as tall bamboos oftwo kinds, grasses allied to the sugar-cane, scarlet Erythrina, andvarious Araliaceae, amongst which was one species whose pith was ofso curious a structure, that I had no hesitation in considering thethen unknown Chinese substance called rice-paper to belong to aclosely allied plant.* [The Chinese rice-paper has long been known tobe cut from cylinders of pith which has always a central hollowchamber, divided into compartments by septa or excessively thinplates. It is only within the last few months that my supposition hasbeen confirmed, by my father's receiving from China, after many yearsof correspondence, specimens of the rice-paper plant itself, whichvery closely resemble, in botanical characters, as well as in outwardappearance of size and habit, the Sikkim plant.]

The natives collect the leaves of many Aralias as fodder for cattle,for which purpose they are of the greatest service in a country wheregrass for pasture is so scarce; this is the more remarkable, sincethey belong to the natural family of ivy, which is usually poisonous;the use of this food, however, gives a peculiar taste to the butter.In other parts of Sikkim, fig-leaves are used for the same purpose,and branches of a bird-cherry (Prunus), a plant also of a verypoisonous family, abounding in prussic acid.

We were received with great kindness by the villagers of Yoksun, whohad awaited our return with some anxiety, and on hearing of ourapproach had collected large supplies of food; amongst other thingswere tares (called by the Lepchas "Kullai"), yams ("Book"), and abread made by bruising together damp maize and rice into tough thincakes ("Ketch-ung tapha"). The Lamas of Doobdi were especially civil,having a favour to ask, which was that I would intercede withDr. Campbell to procure the permission of the Nepalese to reopen theKanglanamo pass, and thus give some occupation to their herds ofyaks, which were now wandering idly about.

I botanized for two days on the Yoksun flat, searching for evidenceof lacustrine strata or moraines, being more than ever convinced bythe views I had obtained of this place from Mon Lepcha, that itsuniformity of surface was due to water action. It is certainly themost level area of its size that I know of in Sikkim, though situatedin one of the deepest valleys, and surrounded on almost all sides byvery steep mountains; and it is far above the flat gravel terraces ofthe present river-beds. I searched the surface of the flat for gravelbeds in vain, for though it abounds in depressions that must haveformerly been lake-beds, and are now marshes in the rainy season,these were all floored with clay. Along the western edge, where thedescent is very steep for 1800 feet to the Ratong, I found no tracesof stratified deposits, though the spurs which projected from it wereoften flattened at top. The only existing lake has sloping claybanks, covered with spongy vegetable mould; it has no permanentaffluent or outlet, its present drainage being subterranean, or moreprobably by evaporation; but there is an old water-channel severalfeet above its level. It is eighty to a hundred yards across, andnearly circular; its depth three or four feet, increased to fifteenor sixteen in the rains; like all similar pools in Sikkim, itcontains little or no animal life at this season, and I searched invain for shells, insects, or frogs. All around were great blocks ofgneiss, some fully twelve feet square.

The situation of this lake is very romantic, buried in a tall forestof oaks and laurels, and fringed by wild camellia shrubs; the latterare not the leafy, deep green, large-blossomed plants of ourgreenhouses, but twiggy bushes with small scattered leaves, andlittle yellowish flowers like those of the tea-plant. The massivewalls of a ruined temple rise close to the water, which looks likethe still moat of a castle: beside it are some grand old funerealcypresses, with ragged scattered branches below, where they strugglefor light in the dense forest, but raising their heads aloft asbright green pyramids.

Illustration—ALTAR AND SONG-BOOM AT YOKSUN.

After some difficulty I found the remains of a broad path thatdivided into two; one of them led to a second ruined temple, fully amile off, and the other I followed to a grove, in which was agigantic chait; it was a beautiful lane throughout, bordered withbamboo, brambles, gay-flowered Melastomaceae like hedge-roses, andscarlet Erythrina: there were many old mendongs and chaits on theway, which I was always careful to leave on the right hand inpassing, such being the rule among Boodhists, the same which ordainsthat the praying-cylinder or "Mani" be made to revolve in a directionagainst the sun's motion.

This great chait is the largest in Sikkim; it is called "Nirbogong,"and appears to be fully forty feet high; facing it is a stone altarabout fifteen feet long and four broad, and behind this again is avery curious erection called "Song-boom," used for burning juniper asincense; it resembles a small smelting furnace, and consists of anelongated conical stone building eight feet high, raised on a singleblock; it is hollow, and divided into three stories or chambers; inthe lower of which is a door, by which fuel is placed inside, and thesmoke ascending through holes in the upper slabs, escapes by lateralopenings from the top compartment. These structures are said to becommon in Tibet, but I saw no other in Sikkim.

During my stay at Yoksun, the weather was very cold, especially atnight, considering the elevation (5,600 feet): the mean temperaturewas 39 degrees, the extremes being 19.2 degrees and 60 degrees; andeven at 8 a.m. the thermometer, laid on the frosty grass, stood at 20degrees; temperatures which are rare at Dorjiling, 1500 feet higher.I could not but regard with surprise such half tropical genera asperennial-leaved vines, Saccharum, Erythrina, large bamboos,Osbeckia and cultivated millet, resisting such low temperatures.*[This is no doubt due to the temperature of the soil being alwayshigh: I did not sink a thermometer at Yoksun, but from observationstaken at similar elevations, the temperature of the earth, at threefeet depth, may be assumed to be 55 degrees.]

On the 14th January I left Yoksun for the lake and temples ofCatsuperri, the former of which is by much the largest in Sikkim.After a steep descent of 1800 feet, we reached the Ratong, where itsbed is only 3,790 feet above the sea; it is here a turbulent stream,twelve yards across, with the usual features of gravel terraces, hugeboulders of gneiss and some of the same rock in situ, strikingnorth-east. Some idea of its velocity may be formed from the descentit makes from the foot of Mon Lepcha, where the elevation of its bedwas 7,150 feet, giving a fall of 3,350 feet in only ten miles.

Hence I ascended a very steep spur, through tropical vegetation, nowbecome so familiar to me that I used to count the number of speciesbelonging to the different large natural orders, as I went along.I gathered only thirty-five ferns at these low elevations, in thesame space as produces from fifty to sixty in the more equable andhumid regions of 6000 feet; grasses on the other hand were much morenumerous. The view of the flat of Yoksun from Lungschung village,opposite to it, and on about the same level, is curious; as is thatof the hamlet of Lathiang on the same side, which I have beforenoticed as being placed on a very singular flat shelf above theRatong, and is overhung by rocks.

Ascending very steeply for several thousand feet, we reached a hollowon the Catsuperri spur, beyond which the lake lies buried in a deepforest. A Lama from the adjacent temple accompanied us, and I foundmy people affecting great solemnity as they approached its sacredbounds; they incessantly muttered "Om mani," etc., kotowed to treesand stones, and hung bits of rag on the bushes. A pretence ofopposing our progress was made by the priest, who of course wantedmoney; this I did not appear to notice, and after a steep descent, wewere soon on the shores of what is, for Sikkim, a grand sheet ofwater, (6,040 feet above the sea), without any apparent outlet: itmay be from three to five hundred yards across in the rains, but wasmuch less now, and was bordered by a broad marsh of bog moss(Sphagnum), in which were abundance of Azolla, colouring thewaters red, and sedges. Along the banks were bushes of Rhododendronbarbatum and Berberis insignis,* [This magnificent new species hasnot been introduced into England; it forms a large bush, withdeep-green leaves seven inches long, and bunches of yellow flowers.]but the mass of the vegetation was similar to that of Dorjiling.

We crossed the marsh to the edge of the lake by a rude paved way ofdecaying logs, through which we often plunged up to our knees.The Lama had come provided with a piece of bark, shaped like a boat,some juniper incense and a match-box, with which he made a fire, andput it in the boat, which he then launched on the lake as a votiveoffering to the presiding deity. It was a dead calm, but the impetushe gave to the bark shot it far across the lake, whose surface wassoon covered with a thick cloud of white smoke. Taking a rupee fromme, the priest then waved his arm aloft, and pretended to throw themoney into the water, singing snatches of prayers in Tibetan, and attimes shrieking at the top of his voice to the Dryad who claims thesewoods and waters as his own. There was neither bird, beast, norinsect to be seen, and the scenery was as impressive to me, as theeffect of the simple service was upon my people, who prayed withredoubled fervour, and hung more rags on the bushes.

I need hardly say that this invocation of the gods of the woods andwaters forms no part of Lama worship; but the Lepchas are but halfBoodhists; in their hearts they dread the demons of the grove, thelake, the snowy mountain and the torrent, and the crafty Lama takesadvantage of this, modifies his practices to suit their requirements,and is content with the formal recognition of the spiritual supremacyof the church. This is most remarkably shown in their acknowledgmentof the day on which offerings had been made from time immemorial bythe pagan Lepchas to the genius of Kinchinjunga, by holding it as afestival of the church throughout Sikkim.* [On that occasion aninvocation to the mountain is chanted by priests and people inchorus. Like the Lama's address to the genius of Catsuperri lake, itsmeaning, if it ever had any, is not now apparent. It runs thus:— "Kanchin-jinga, Pemi Kadup Gnetche Tangla, Dursha tember Zu jinga Pemsum Serkiem Dischze Kubra Kanchin tong."This was written for me by Dr. Campbell, who, like myself, has vainlysought its solution; it is probably a mixture of Tibetan and Lepcha,both as much corrupted as the celebrated "Om mani padmi boom," whichis universally pronounced by Lepchas "Menny pemmy boom." This remindsme that I never got a solution of this sentence from a Lama, ofwhatever rank or learning; and it was only after incessant inquiry,during a residence of many years in Nepal, that Mr. Hodgson at lastprocured the interpretation, or rather paraphrase: "Hail to him(Sakya) of the lotus and the jewel," which is very much the same asM. Klaproth and other authorities have given.]

The two Catsuperri temples occupy a spur 445 feet above the lake, and6,485 feet above the sea; they are poor, and only remarkable for amiserable weeping-willow tree planted near them, said to have beenbrought from Lhassa. The monks were very civil to me, and offeredamongst other things a present of excellent honey. One was anintelligent man, and gave me much information: he told me that therewere upwards of twenty religious establishments in Sikkim, containingmore than 1000 priests. These have various claims upon the devout:thus, Tassiding, Doobdi, Changachelling, and Pemiongchi, arecelebrated for their antiquity, and the latter also for being theresidence of the head Lama; Catsuperri for its lake; Raklang for itssize, etc. All are under one spiritual head, who is the Tupgain Lama,or eldest son of the Rajah; and who resides at the Phadong convent,near Tumloong: the Lama of Pemiongchi is, however, the most highlyrespected, on account of his age, position, and sanctity. Advancementin the hierarchy is dependent chiefly on interest, but indirectly onworks also; pilgrimages to Lhassa and Teshoo Loombo are the highestof these, and it is clearly the interest of the supreme pontiffs ofthose ecclesiastical capitals to encourage such, and to intimate tothe Sikkim authorities, the claims those who perform them have forpreferment. Dispensations for petty offences are granted to Lamas oflow degree and monks, by those of higher station, but crimes againstthe church are invariably referred to Tibet, and decided there.

The election to the Sikkim Lamaseries is generally conducted on theprinciple of self-government, but Pemiongchi and some others areoften served by Lamas appointed from Tibet, or ordained there, atsome of the great convents. I never heard of an instance of anySikkim Lama arriving at such sanctity as to be considered immortal,and to reappear after death in another individual, nor is there anyelection of infants. All are of the Ningma, Dookpa, or Shammar sect,and are distinguished by their red mitres; they were once dominantthroughout Tibet, but after many wars* [The following account of theearly war between the red and the yellow-mitred Lamas was given me byTchebu Lama:—For twenty-five generations the red-cape (Dookpa orNingma) prevailed in Tibet, when they split into two sects, whocontended for supreme power; the Lama of Phado, who headed thedissenters, and adopted a yellow mitre, being favoured by the Emperorof China, to whom reference was made. A persecution of the red Lamasfollowed, who were caught by the yellow-caps, and their mitresplunged into dyeing vats kept always ready at the Lamaseries.The Dookpa, however, still held Teshoo Loombo, and applied to theSokpo (North Tibet) Lamas for aid, who bringing horses and camels,easily prevailed over the Gelookpa or yellow sect, but afterwardstreacherously went over to them, and joined them in an attack onTeshoo Loombo, which was plundered and occupied by the Gelookpas.The Dookpa thereafter took refuge in Sikkim and Bhotan, whence theBhotan Rajah became their spiritual chief under the name of DhurmaRajah, and is now the representative of that creed. Goorucknath isstill the Dookpa's favourite spiritual deity of the older creed,which is, however, no longer in the ascendant. The Dalai Lama ofTeshoo Loombo is a Gelookpa, as is the Rimbochay Lama, and the PotalaLama of Lhassa, according to Tchebu Lama, but Turner ("Travels inTibet," p. 315) says the contrary; the Gelookpa consider Sakya Thoba(or Tsongkaba) alias Mahamouni, as their great avatar.] with theyellow-caps, they were driven from that country, and took refugeprincipally in the Himalaya. The Bhotan or Dhurma* [Bhotan isgenerally known as the Dhurma country. See note, Chapter V.] Rajahbecame the spiritual head of this sect, and, as is well known,disputes the temporal government also of his country with the DevaRajah, who is the hereditary temporal monarch, and never claimsspiritual jurisdiction. I am indebted to Dr. Campbell for a copy andtranslation of the Dhurma Rajah's great seal, containing theattributes of his spirituality, a copy of which I have appended tothe end of this chapter.

The internal organisation of the different monastic establishments isvery simple. The head or Teshoo Lama* [I have been informed byletters from Dr. Campbell that the Pemiongchi Lama is about to removethe religious capital of Sikkim to Dorjiling, and build there a grandtemple and monastery; this will be attractive to visitors, and affordthe means of extending our knowledge of East Tibet.] rules supreme;then come the monks and various orders of priests, and then those whoare candidates for orders, and dependents, both lay-brothers andslaves: there are a few nunneries in Sikkim, and the nuns are allrelatives or connections of the Rajah, his sister is amongst them.During the greater part of the year, all lead a more or less idlelife; the dependents being the most occupied in carrying wood andwater, cultivating the land, etc.

The lay-brothers are often skilful workmen, and are sometimes lent orhired out as labourers, especially as housebuilders and decorators.No tax of any kind is levied on the church, which is frequently veryrich in land, flocks, and herds, and in contributions from thepeople: land is sometimes granted by the Rajah, but is oftenerpurchased by the priests, or willed, or given by the proprietor.The services, to which I have already alluded, are very irregularlyperformed; in most temples only on festival days, which correspond tothe Tibetan ones so admirably described in MM. Huc and Gabet'snarrative; in a few, however, service is performed daily, especiallyin such as stand near frequented roads, and hence reap therichest harvest.

Like all the natives of Tibet and Sikkim, the priests are intolerablyfilthy; in some cases so far carrying out their doctrines as not evento kill the vermin with which they swarm. All are nominally bound tochastity, but exemptions in favour of Lamas of wealth, rank, orpower, are granted by the supreme pontiffs, both in Tibet and Sikkim.I constantly found swarms of children about the Lamaseries, who wereinvariably called nephews and nieces.

Descending from the Catsuperri temples, I encamped at the village ofTengling (elevation 5,257 feet), where I was waited upon by a bevy offorty women, Lepchas and Sikkim Bhoteeas, accompanied by theirchildren, and bringing presents of fowls, rice and vegetables, andapologising for the absence of their male relatives, who were gone tocarry tribute to the Rajah. Thence I marched to Changachelling, firstdescending to the Tengling river, which divides the Catsuperri fromthe Molli ridge, and which I crossed.

Tree-ferns here advance further north than in any other part ofSikkim. I did not visit the Molli temples, but crossed the spur ofthat name, to the Rungbee river, whose bed is 3,300 feet above thesea; thence I ascended upwards of 3,500 feet to the Changachellingtemples, passing Tchongpong village. The ridge on which bothPemiongchi and Changachelling are built, is excessively narrow attop; it is traversed by a "via Sacra," connecting these twoestablishments; this is a pretty wooded walk, passing mendongs andchaits hoary with lichens and mosses; to the north the snows ofKinchinjunga are seen glimmering between the trunks of oaks, laurels,and rhododendrons, while to the south the Sinchul and Dorjiling spursshut out the view of the plains of India.

Changachelling temples and chaits crown a beautiful rocky eminence onthe ridge, their roofs, cones and spires peeping through groves ofbamboo, rhododendrons, and arbutus; the ascent is by broad flights ofsteps cut in the mica-slate rocks, up which shaven and girdled monks,with rosaries and long red gowns, were dragging loads of bamboostems, that produced a curious rattling noise. At the summit there isa fine temple, with the ruins of several others, and of many houses:the greater part of the principal temple, which is two-storied anddivided into several compartments, is occupied by families. The monkswere busy repairing the part devoted to worship, which consists of alarge chamber and vestibule of the usual form: the outside walls aredaubed red, with a pigment of burnt felspathic clay, which is dughard by. Some were painting the vestibule with colours brought fromLhassa, where they had been trained to the art. Amongst other figureswas one playing on a guitar, a very common symbol in the vestibulesof Sikkim temples: I also saw an angel playing on the flute, and asnake-king offering fruit to a figure in the water, who was graspinga serpent. Amongst the figures I was struck by that of an Englishman,whom, to my amusem*nt, and the limner's great delight, I recognisedas myself. I was depicted in a flowered silk coat instead of a tartanshooting jacket, my shoes were turned up at the toes, and I had onspectacles and a tartar cap, and was writing notes in a book. On oneside a snake-king was politely handing me fruit, and on the other ahorrible demon was writhing.

A crowd had collected to see whether I should recognise myself, andwhen I did so, the merriment was extreme. They begged me to send thema supply of vermilion, goldleaf, and brushes; our so calledcamel's-hair pencils being much superior to theirs, which are made ofmarmot's hair.

I was then conducted to a house, where I found salted and butteredtea and Murwa beer smoking in hospitable preparation. As usual, thehouse was of wood, and the inhabited apartments above the lowbasem*nt story were approached by an outside ladder, like a Swisscottage: within were two rooms floored with earth; the inner wassmall, and opened on a verandah that faced Kinchinjunga, whence thekeen wind whistled through the apartment.

The head Lama, my jolly fat friend of the 20th of December, came tobreakfast with me, followed by several children, nephews and nieceshe said; but they were uncommonly like him for such a distantrelationship, and he seemed extremely fond of them, and much pleasedwhen I stuffed them with sugar.

Changachelling hill is remarkable for having on its summit an immensetabular mass of chlorite slate, resting apparently horizontally onvariously inclined rocks of the same: it is quite flat-topped, ten totwelve yards each way, and the sides are squared by art; the countrypeople attribute its presence here to a miracle.

The view of the Kinchin range from this spot being one of the finestin Sikkim, and the place itself being visible from Dorjiling, I tooka very careful series of bearings, which, with those obtained atPemiongchi, were of the utmost use in improving my map, which wasgradually progressing. To my disappointment I found that neitherpriest nor people knew the name of a single snowy mountain. I alsoasked in vain for some interpretation of the lines I have quoted atearlier; they said they were Lepcha worship, and that they only usedthem for the gratification of the people, on the day of the greatfestival of Kinchinjunga.

Hence I descended to the Kulhait river, on my route back toDorjiling, visiting my very hospitable tippling friend, the Kajee ofLingcham, on the way down: he humbly begged me to get him a pair ofspectacles, for no other object than to look wise, as he had the eyesof a hawk; he told me that mine drew down universal respect inSikkim, and that I had been drawn with them on, in the temple atChangachelling; and that a pair would not only wonderfully becomehim, but afford him the most pleasing recollections of myself.Happily I had the means of gratifying him, and have since been toldthat he wears them on state occasions.

I encamped by the river, 3,160 feet above the sea, amongst figs andplantains, on a broad terrace of pebbles, boulders and sand, ten feetabove the stream; the rocks in the latter were covered with a redconferva. The sand on the banks was disposed in layers, alternatelywhite and red, the white being quartz, and the red pulverisedgarnets. The arranging of these sand-bands by the water must be dueto the different specific gravities of the garnet and quartz; theformer being lighter, is lifted by the current on to the surface ofthe quartz, and left there when the waters retire.

On the next day I ascended Hee hill, crossed it at an elevation of7,290 feet, and camped on the opposite side at 6,680 feet, in a denseforest. The next march was still southward to the little Rungeetguard-house, below Dorjiling spur, which I reached after a fatiguingwalk amidst torrents of rain. The banks of the little Rungeet river,which is only 1,670 feet above the sea, are very flat and low, withbroad terraces of pebbles and shingle, upon which are huge gneissboulders, fully 200 feet above the stream.

On the 19th of January, I ascended the Tukvor spur to Dorjiling, andreceived a most hospitable welcome from my friend Mr. Muller, nowalmost the only European inhabitant of the place; Mr. Hodgson havinggone down on a shooting excursion in the Terai, and Dr. Campbellbeing on duty on the Bhotan frontier. The place looked what it reallywas—wholly deserted. The rain I had experienced in the valley, hadhere been snow, and the appearance of the broad snowed patches clearof trees, and of the many houses without smoke or inhabitant, and thetall scattered trees with black bark and all but naked branches, wasdismal in the extreme. The effect was heightened by an occasionalHindoo, who flitted here and there along the road, crouching andshivering, with white cotton garments and bare legs.

The delight of my Lepcha attendants at finding themselves safely athome again, knew no bounds; and their parents waited on me withpresents, and other tokens of their goodwill and gratitude. I had nolack of volunteers for a similar excursion in the following season,though with their usual fickleness, more than half failed me, longbefore the time arrived for putting their zeal to the proof.

——————

I am indebted to Dr. Campbell for the accompanying impression anddescription of the seal of the Dhurma Rajah, or sovereign pontiff ofBhotan, and spiritual head of the whole sect of the Dookpa, orred-mitred Lama Boodhists. The translations were made by Aden TchehuLama, who accompanied us into Sikkim in 1849, and I believe they arequite correct. The Tibetan characters run from left to right.

The seal of the Dhurma Rajah is divided into a centre portion andsixteen rays. In the centre is the word Dookyin, which means "TheDookpa Creed"; around the "Dookyin" are sixteen similar letters,meaning "I," or "I am." The sixteen radial compartments contain histitles and attributes, thus, commencing from the centre erect one,and passing round from left to right:—

1. I am the Spiritual and Temporal Chief of the Realm.2. The Defender of the Faith.3. Equal to Saruswati in learning.4. Chief of all the Boodhs.5. Head expounder of the Shasters.6. Caster out of devils.7. The most learned in the Holy Laws.8. An Avatar of God (or, by God's will).9. Absolver of sins.10. I am above all the Lamas of the Dookpa Creed.11. I am of the best of all Religions—the Dookpa.12. The punisher of unbelievers.18. Unequalled in expounding the Shasters.14. Unequalled in holiness and wisdom.15. The head (or fountain) of all Religious Knowledge.16. The Enemy of all false Avatars.

CHAPTER XVII.

EXCURSION TO TERAI.

Dispatch collections — Acorns — Heat — Punkabaree — Bees —Vegetation — Haze — Titalya — Earthquake — Proceed to Nepalfrontier — Terai, geology of — Physical features of Himalayanvalleys — Elephants, purchase of, etc. — Riverbeds — Mechi river— Return to Titalya — Leave for Teesta — Climate of plains —Jeelpigoree — Cooches — Alteration in the appearance of country byfires, etc. — Grasses — Bamboos — Cottages — Rajah of Cooch Behar— Condition of people — Hooli festival — Ascend Teesta — Canoes— Cranes — Forest — Baikant-pore — Rummai — Religion — Plantsat foot of mountains — Exit of Teesta — Canoe voyage down toRangamally — English genera of plants — Birds — Beautiful Scenery— Botanizing on elephants — Willow — Siligoree — Cross Terai —Geology — Iron — Lohar-ghur — Coal and sandstone beds — Mechifisherman — Hailstorm — Ascent to Khersiong — To Dorjiling —Vegetation — Geology — Folded quartz-beds — Spheres of feldspar —Lime deposits.

Having arranged the collections (amounting to eighty loads) madeduring 1848, they were conveyed by coolies to the foot of the hills,where carts were provided to carry them five days' journey to theMahanuddy river, which flows into the Ganges, whence they weretransported by water to Calcutta.

On the 27th of February, I left Dorjiling to join Mr. Hodgson, atTitalya on the plains. The weather was raw, cold, and threatening:snow lay here and there at 7000 feet, and all vegetation was verybackward, and wore a wintry garb. The laurels, maples, anddeciduous-leaved oaks, hydrangea and cherry, were leafless, but theabundance of chesnuts and evergreen oaks, rhododendrons, Aucuba,Linonia, and other shrubs, kept the forest well clothed. The oakshad borne a very unusual number of acorns during the last season,which were now falling, and strewing the road in some places soabundantly, that it was hardly safe to ride down hill.

The plains of Bengal were all but obscured by a dense haze, partlyowing to a peculiar state of the atmosphere that prevails in the drymonths, and partly to the fires raging in the Terai forest, fromwhich white wreaths of smoke ascended, stretching obliquely for milesto the eastward, and filling the air with black particles ofgrass-stems, carried 4000 feet aloft by the heated ascending currentsthat impinge against the flanks of the mountains.

In the tropical region the air was scented with the white blossoms ofthe Vitex Agnus-castus, which grew in profusion by the road-side;but the forest, which had looked so gigantic on my arrival at themountains the previous year, appeared small after the far more loftyand bulky oaks and pines of the upper regions of the Himalaya.

The evening was sultry and close, the heated surface of the earthseemed to load the surrounding atmosphere with warm vapours, and thesensation, as compared with the cool pure air of Dorjiling, was thatof entering a confined tropical harbour after a long sea-voyage.

I slept in the little bungalow of Punkabaree, and was wakened nextmorning by sounds to which I had long been a stranger, the voices ofinnumerable birds, and the humming of great bees that bore largeholes for their dwellings in the beams and rafters of houses: neverbefore had I been so forcibly struck with the absence of animal lifein the regions of the upper Himalaya.

Breakfasting early, I pursued my way in the so-called cool of themorning, but this was neither bright nor fresh; the night having beenhazy, there had been no terrestrial radiation, and the earth wasdusty and parched; while the sun rose through a murky yellowishatmosphere with ill-defined orb. Thick clouds of smoke pressed uponthe plains, and the faint easterly wind wafted large flakes of grasscharcoal sluggishly through the air.

Vegetation was in great beauty, though past its winter prime. Thetropical forest of India has two flowering seasons; one in summer, ofthe majority of plants; and the other in winter, of Acanthaceae,Bauhinia, Dillenia, Bombax, etc. Of these the former are abundant,and render the jungle gay with large and delicate white, red, andpurple blossoms. Coarse, ill-favoured vultures wheeled through theair, languid Bengalees had replaced the active mountaineers,jackal-like curs of low degree teemed at every village, and ranhowling away from the onslaught of my mountain dog; and the tropics,with all their beauty of flower and genial warmth, looked as forbiddingand unwholesome as they felt oppressive to a frame that had so longbreathed the fresh mountain air.

Mounted on a stout pony, I enjoyed my scamper of sixteen miles overthe wooded plains and undulating gravelly slopes of the Terai,intervening between the foot of the mountains and Siligoree bungalow,where I rested for an hour. In the afternoon I rode on leisurely toTitalya, sixteen miles further, along the banks of the Mahanuddy, theatmosphere being so densely hazy, that objects a few miles off wereinvisible, and the sun quite concealed, though its light was sopowerful that no part of the sky could be steadily gazed upon.This state of the air is very curious, and has met with variousattempts at explanation,* [Dr. M'Lelland ("Calcutta Journal ofNatural History," vol. i, p. 52), attributes the haze of theatmosphere during the north-west winds of this season, wholly tosuspended earthy particles. But the haze is present even in thecalmest weather, and extreme dryness is in all parts of the worldusually accompanied by an obscure horizon. Captain Campbell("Calcutta Journal of Natural History," vol. ii, p. 44.) also objectsto Dr. M'Clelland's theory, citing those parts of Southern Indiawhich are least likely to be visited by dust-storms, as possessing anequally hazy atmosphere; and further denies its being influenced bythe hygrometric state of the atmosphere.] all unsatisfactory to me:it accompanies great heat, dryness, and elasticity of the suspendedvapours, and is not affected by wind. During the afternoon the latterblew with violence, but being hot and dry, brought no relief to mystill unacclimated frame. My pony alone enjoyed the freedom of theboundless plains, and the gallop or trot being fatiguing in the heat,I tried in vain to keep him at a walk; his spirits did not last long,however, for he flagged after a few days' tropical heat. My littledog had run thirty miles the day before, exclusive of all the detourshe had made for his own enjoyment, and he flagged so much aftertwenty more this day, that I had to take him on my saddle-bow, where,after licking his hot swollen feet, he fell fast asleep, in spite ofthe motion.

After leaving the wooded Terai at Siligoree, trees became scarce, andclumps of bamboos were the prevalent features; these, with anoccasional banyan, peepul, or betel-nut palm near the villages, werethe only breaks on the distant horizon. A powerfully scentedClerodendron, and an 0sbeckia gay with blossoms like dog-roses,were abundant; the former especially under trees, where the seeds aredropped by birds.

At Titalya bungalow, I received a hearty welcome from Mr. Hodgson,and congratulations on the success of my Nepal journey, whichafforded a theme for many conversations.

In the evening we had three sharp jerking shocks of an earthquake inquick succession, at 9.8 p.m., appearing to come up from thesouthward: they were accompanied by a hollow rumbling sound like thatof a waggon passing over a wooden bridge. The shock was felt stronglyat Dorjiling, and registered by Mr. Muller at 9.10 p.m.: we hadaccurately adjusted our watches (chronometers) the previous morning,and the motion may therefore fairly be assumed to have beentransmitted northwards through the intervening distance of fortymiles, in two minutes. Both Mr. Muller and Mr. Hodgson had noted amuch more severe shock at 6.10 p.m. the previous evening, which I,who was walking down the mountain, did not experience; this caused agood deal of damage at Dorjiling, in cracking well-built walls.Earthquakes are frequent all along the Himalaya, and are felt far inTibet; they are, however, most common towards the eastern and westernextremities of India; owing in the former case to the proximity ofthe volcanic forces in the bay of Bengal. Cutch and Scinde, as iswell known, have suffered severely on many occasions, and in severalof them the motion has been propagated through Affghanistan andLittle Tibet, to the heart of Central Asia.* [See "Wood's Travels tothe Oxus."]

On the morning of the 1st of March, Dr. Campbell arrived at thebungalow, from his tour of inspection along the frontier of Bhotanand the Rungpore district; and we accompanied him hence along theBritish and Sikkim frontier, as far west as the Mechi river, whichbounds Nepal on the east.

Terai is a name loosely applied to a tract of country at the veryfoot of the Himalaya: it is Persian, and signifies damp. Politically,the Terai generally belongs to the hill-states beyond it;geographically, it should appertain to the plains of India; andgeologically, it is a sort of neutral country, being composed neitherof the alluvium of the plains, nor of the rocks of the hills, but forthe most part of alternating beds of sand, gravel, and bouldersbrought from the mountains. Botanically it is readily defined as theregion of forest-trees; amongst which the Sal, the most valuableof Indian timber, is conspicuous in most parts, though not now inSikkim, where it has been destroyed. The Terai soil is generallylight, dry, and gravelly (such as the Sal always prefers), and variesin breadth, from ten miles, along the Sikkim frontier, to thirty andmore on the Nepalese. In the latter country it is called the Morung,and supplies Sal and Sissoo timber for the Calcutta market, the logsbeing floated down the Konki and Cosi rivers to the Ganges.The gravel-beds extend uninterruptedly upon the plains for fullytwenty miles south of the Sikkim mountains, the gravel becomingsmaller as the distance increases, and large blocks of stone notbeing found beyond a few miles from the rocks of the Himalaya itself,even in the beds of rivers, however large and rapid. Throughout itsbreadth this formation is conspicuously cut into flat-toppedterraces, flanking the spurs of the mountains, at elevations varyingfrom 250 to nearly 1000 feet above the sea. These terraces are ofvarious breadth and length, the smallest lying uppermost, and thebroadest flanking the rivers below. The isolated hills beyond arealso flat-topped and terraced. This deposit contains no fossils; andits general appearance and mineral constituents are the only evidenceof its origin, which is no doubt due to a retiring ocean that washedthe base of the Sikkim Himalaya, received the contents of its rivers,and, wearing away its bluff spurs, spread a talus upwards of 1000feet thick along its shores. It is not at first sight evident whetherthe terracing is due to periodic retirements of the ocean, or to thelevelling effects of rivers that have cut channels through thedeposit. In many places, especially along the banks of the greatstreams, the gravel is smaller, obscurely interstratified with sand,and the flattened pebbles over-lap rudely, in a manner characteristicof the effects of running water; but such is not the case with themain body of the deposit, which is unstratified, and much coarser.

The alluvium of the Gangetic valley is both interstratified with thegravel, and passes into it, and was no doubt deposited in deep water,whilst the coarser matter* [This, too, is non-fossiliferous, and isof unknown depth, except at Calcutta, where the sand and clay bedshave been bored through, to the depth of 120 feet, below which thefirst pebbles were met with. Whence these pebbles were derived is acurious problem. The great Himalayan rivers convey pebbles but a veryfew miles from the mountains on to the plains of India; and there isno rock in situ above the surface, within many miles of Calcutta,in any direction.] was accumulating at the foot of the mountains.

This view is self-evident, and has occurred, I believe, to almostevery observer, at whatever part of the base of the Himalaya he mayhave studied this deposit. Its position, above the sandstones of theSewalik range in the north-west Himalaya, and those of Sikkim, whichappear to be modern fossiliferous rocks, indicates its beinggeologically of recent formation; but it still remains a subject ofthe utmost importance to discover the extent and nature of the oceanto whose agency it is referred. I have elsewhere remarked that thealluvium of the Gangetic valley may to a great degree be the measureof the denudation which the Himalaya has suffered along its Indianwatershed. It was, no doubt, during the gradual rise of that chainfrom the ocean, that the gravel and alluvium were deposited; and inthe terraces and alternation of these, there is evidence that therehave been many subsidences and elevations of the coast-line, duringwhich the gravel has suffered greatly from denudation.

I have never looked at the Sikkim Himalaya from the plains withoutcomparing its bold spurs enclosing sinuous river gorges, to theweather-beaten front of a mountainous coast; and in following any ofits great rivers, the scenery of its deep valleys no less strikinglyresembles that of such narrow arms of the sea (or fiords) ascharacterize every mountainous coast, of whatever geologicalformation: such as the west coast of Scotland and Norway, of SouthChili and Fuegia, of New Zealand and Tasmania. There are too in theseHimalayan valleys, at all elevations below 600 feet, terracedpebble-beds, rising in some cases eighty feet above the rivers, whichI believe could only have been deposited by them when they debouchedinto deep water; and both these, and the beds of the rivers, arestrewed, down to 1000 feet, with masses of rock. Such accumulationsand transported blocks are seen on the raised beaches of our narrowScottish salt water lochs, exposed by the rising of the land, andthey are yet forming of immense thickness on many coasts by the jointaction of tides and streams.

I have described meeting with ancient moraines in every Himalayanvalley I ascended, at or about 7000 or 8000 feet elevation, proving,that at one period, the glaciers descended fully so much below theposition they now occupy: this can only be explained by a change ofclimate,* [Such a change of temperature, without any depression orelevation of the mountains, has been thought by Capt. R. Strachey("Journal of Geological Society"), an able Himalayan observer, to bethe necessary consequence of an ocean at the foot of these mountains;for the amount of perpetual snow, and consequent descent of theglaciers, increasing indirectly in proportion to the humidity of theclimate, and the snow-fall, he conjectured that the proximity of theocean would prodigiously increase such a deposition of snow.—To me,this argument appears inconclusive; for the first effect of such avast body of water would be to raise the temperature of winter; andas it is the rain, rather than the sun of summer, which removes theSikkim snow, so would an increase of this rain elevate, rather thandepress, the level of perpetual snow.] or by a depression of themountain mass equal to 8000 feet, since the formation of thesemoraines.

The country about Titalya looks desert, from that want of trees andcultivation, so characteristic of the upper level throughout thispart of the plains, which is covered with short, poor pasture-grass.The bungalow stands close to the Mahanuddy, on a low hill, cut intoan escarpment twenty feet high, which exposes a section of river-laidsand and gravel, alternating with thick beds of rounded pebbles.

Shortly after Dr. Campbell's arrival, the meadows about the bungalowpresented a singular appearance, being dotted over with elephants,brought for purchase by Government. It was curious to watch thearrival of these enormous animals, which were visible nearly twomiles across the flat plains; nor less interesting was it to observethe wonderful docility of these giants of the animal kingdom, oftenonly guided by naked boys, perched on their necks, scolding,swearing, and enforcing their orders with the iron goad.There appeared as many tricks in elephant-dealers as inhorse-jockeys, and of many animals brought, but few were purchased.Government limits the price to about 75 pounds, and the height to theshoulder must not be under seven feet, which, incredible as itappears, may be estimated within a fraction as being three times thecircumference of the forefoot. The pedigree is closely inquired into,the hoofs are examined for cracks, the teeth for age, and many otherpoints attended to.

The Sikkim frontier, from the Mahanuddy westward to the Mechi, ismarked out by a row of tall posts. The country is undulating; andthough fully 400 miles from the ocean, and not sixty from the top ofthe loftiest mountain on the globe, its average level is not 300 feetabove that of the sea. The upper levels are gravelly, and looselycovered with scattered thorny jujube bushes, occasionally tenanted bythe Florican, which scours these downs like a bustard. Sometimes asolitary fig, or a thorny acacia, breaks the horizon, and there are afew gnarled trees of the scarlet Butea frondosa.

On our route I had a good opportunity of examining the line ofjunction between the alluvial plains that stretch south to theGanges, and the gravel deposit flanking the hills. The rivers alwayscut broad channels with scarped terraced sides, and their low banksare very fertile, from the mud annually spread by the ever-shiftingstreams that meander within their limits; there are, however, fewshrubs and no trees. The houses, which are very few and scattered,are built on the gravelly soil above, the lower level beingvery malarious.

Thirty miles south of the mountains, numerous isolated flat-toppedhills, formed of stratified gravel and sand with large water-wornpebbles, rise from 80 to 200 feet above the mean level, which isabout 250 feet above the sea; these, too, have always scarped sides,and the channels of small streams completely encircle them.

At this season few insects but grasshoppers are to be seen, evenmosquitos being rare. Birds, however, abound, and we noticed thecommon sparrow, hoopoe, water-wagtail, skylark, osprey, andseveral egrets.

We arrived on the third day at the Mechi river, to the west of whichthe Nepal Terai (or Morung) begins, whose belt of Sal forest loomedon the horizon, so raised by refraction as to be visible as a darkline, from the distance of many miles. It is, however, very poor, allthe large trees having been removed. We rode for several miles intoit, and found the soil dry and hard, but supporting a prodigiousundergrowth of gigantic harsh grasses that reached to our heads,though we were mounted on elephants. Besides Sal there was abundanceof Butea, Diospyros, Terminalia, and Symplocos, with the dwarfPhoenix palm, and occasionally Cycas. Tigers, wild elephants, andthe rhinoceros, are said to be found here; but we saw none.

The old and new Mechi rivers are several miles apart, but flow in thesame depression, a low swamp many miles broad, which is grazed atthis season, and cultivated during the rains. The grass is very rich,partly owing to the moisture of the climate, and partly to theretiring waters of the rivers; both circ*mstances being the effectsof proximity to the Himalaya. Hence cattle (buffalos and the commonhumped cow of India) are driven from the banks of the Ganges 300miles to these feeding grounds, for the use of which a trifling taxis levied on each animal. The cattle are very carelessly herded, andmany are carried off by tigers.

Having returned to Titalya, Mr. Hodgson and I set off in an easterndirection for the Teesta river, whose embouchure from the mountainsto the plains I was anxious to visit. Though the weather is hot, andoppressively so in the middle of the day, there are few climates moredelicious than that of these grassy savannahs from December to March.We always started soon after daybreak on ponies, and enjoyed a twelveto sixteen miles' gallop in the cool of the morning before breakfast,which we found prepared on our arrival at a tent sent on ahead thenight before. The road led across an open country, or followed pathsthrough interminable rice-fields, now dry and dusty. On poor soil awhite-flowered Leucas monopolized the space, like our charlock andpoppy: it was apparently a pest to the agriculturist, covering thesurface in some places like a sprinkling of snow. Sometimes theriver-beds exposed fourteen feet of pure stratified sand, with onlyan inch of vegetable soil above.

At this season the mornings are very hazy, with the thermometer atsunrise 60 degrees; one laid on grass during the night falling 7degrees below that temperature: dew forms, but never copiously: by10 a.m. the temperature has risen to 75 degrees, and the fainteasterly morning breezes die away; the haze thickens, and covers thesky with a white veil, the thermometer rising to 82 degrees at noon,and the west wind succeeding in parching tornados and furious gusts,increasing with the temperature, which attains its maximum in theafternoon, and falling again with its decline at sunset. The eveningsare calm; but the earth is so heated, that the thermometer stands at10 p.m. at 66 degrees, and the minimum at night is not below 55degrees: great drought accompanies the heat at this season, but notto such a degree as in North-west India, or other parts of thismeridian further removed from the hills. In the month of March, andduring the prevalence of west winds, the mean temperature was 79degrees, and the dew-point 22 degrees lower, indicating greatdrought. The temperature at Calcutta was 7 degrees warmer, and theatmosphere very much damper.

On the second day we arrived at Jeelpigoree, a large stragglingvillage near the banks of the Teesta, a good way south of the forest:here we were detained for several days, waiting for elephants withwhich to proceed northwards. The natives are Cooches, a Mogul(Mongolian) race, who inhabit the open country of this district,replacing the Mechis of the Terai forest. They are a fine athleticpeople, not very dark, and formed the once-powerful house of CoochBehar. Latterly the upper classes have adopted the religion of theBrahmins, and have had caste conferred upon them; while the lowerorders have turned Mahomedans: these, chiefly agriculturists, are atimid, oppressed class, who everywhere fled before us, and were withdifficulty prevailed upon even to direct us along our road. A rudepolice is established by the British Government all over the country,and to it the traveller applies for guides and assistance; but theConches were so shy and difficult to deal with, that we weregenerally left to our own resources.

Grass is the prevailing feature of the country, as there are fewshrubs, and still fewer trees. Goats and the common Indian cow areplentiful; but it is not swampy enough for the buffalo; and sheep arescarce, on account of the heat of the climate. This uniformity offeature over so immense an area is, however, due to the agency ofman, and is of recent introduction; as all concur in affirming, thatwithin the last hundred years the face of the country was coveredwith the same long jungle-grasses which abound in the Terai forest;and the troops cantoned at Titalya (a central position in theseplains) from 1816 to 1828, confirm this statement as far as theirimmediate neighbourhood is concerned.

These gigantic Gramineae seem to be destroyed by fire withremarkable facility at one season of the year; and it is well thatthis is the case; for, whether as a retainer of miasma, a shelter forwild beasts, both carnivorous and herbivorous, alike dangerous toman, or from their liability to ignite, and spread destruction farand wide, the grass-jungles are most serious obstacles tocivilization. Next to the rapidity with which it can be cleared, theadaptation of a great part of the soil to irrigation during therains, has greatly aided the bringing of it under cultivation.

By far the greater proportion of this universal short turf grass isformed of Andropogon acicularis, Cynodon Dactylon,* [Called "Dhob."This is the best pasture grass in the plains of India, and the onlyone to be found over many thousands of square miles.] and in sandyplaces, Imperata cylindrica; where the soil is wetter, AmeletiaIndica is abundant, giving a heather-like colour to the turf, withits pale purple flowers: wherever there is standing water, itssurface is reddened by the Azolla, and Salvinia is also common.

At Jeelpigoree we were waited upon by the Dewan, who governs thedistrict for the Rajah, a boy about ten years old, whose estates arelocked up during the trial of an interminable suit for thesuccession, that has been instituted against him by a natural son ofthe late Rajah: we found the Dewan to be a man of intelligence, whopromised us elephants as soon as the great Hooli festival, nowcommenced, should be over.

The large village, at the time of our visit, was gay with holidaydresses. It is surrounded by trees, chiefly of banyan, jack, mango,peepul, and tamarind: interminable rice-fields extend on all sides,and except bananas, slender betel-nut palms, and sometimes pawn, orbetel-pepper, there is little other extensive cultivation.The rose-apple, orange, and pine-apple are rare, as are cocoa-nuts:there are few date or fan-palms, and only occasionally poor crops ofcastor-oil and sugar-cane. In the gardens I noticed jasmine,Justicia Adhatoda, Hibiscus, and others of the very commonestIndian ornamental plants; while for food were cultivatedChenopodium, yams, sweet potatos, and more rarely peas, beans, andgourds. Bamboos were planted round the little properties and smallerclusters of houses, in oblong squares, the ridge on which the plantsgrew being usually bounded by a shallow ditch. The species selectedwas not the most graceful of its family; the stems, or culms, beingdensely crowded, erect, as thick at the base as the arm, copiouslybranching, and very feathery throughout their whole length ofsixty feet.

A gay-flowered Osbeckia was common along the roadsides, and, witha Clerodendron,* [Clerodendron leaves, bruised, are used to killvermin, fly-blows, etc., in cattle; and the twigs form toothpicks.The flowers are presented to Mahadeo, as a god of peace; milk, honey,flowers, fruit, amrit (ambrosia), etc., being offered to the pacificgods, as Vishnu, Krishna, etc.; while Mudar (Asclepias), Bhang(Cannabis sativa), Datura, flesh, blood, and spirituous liquors,are offered to Siva, Doorga, Kali, and other demoniacal deities.]whose strong, sweet odour was borne far through the air, formed a lowundershrub beneath every tree, generally intermixed with three ferns(a Polypodium, Pteris, and Goniopteris).

The cottages are remarkable, and have a very neat appearance,presenting nothing but a low white-washed platform of clay, and anenormous high, narrow, black, neatly thatched roof, so arched alongthe ridge, that its eaves nearly touch the ground at each gable; andlooking at a distance like a gigantic round-backed elephant.The walls are of neatly-platted bamboo: each window (of which thereare two) is crossed by slips of bamboo, and wants only glass to makeit look European; they have besides shutters of wattle, that openupwards, projecting during the day like the port-hatches of a ship,and let down at night. Within, the rooms are airy and clean: one endcontains the machans (bedsteads), the others some raised claybenches, the fire, frequently an enormous Hookah, round wattledstools, and various implements. The inhabitants appeared more thanordinarily well-dressed; the men in loose flowing robes of finecotton or muslin, the women in the usual garb of a simple thickcotton cloth, drawn tight immediately above the breast, and thencefalling perpendicularly to the knee; the colour of this is a brightblue in stripes, bordered above and below with red.

I anticipated some novelty from a visit to a Durbar (court) sodistant from European influence as that of the Rajah of Jeelpigoree.All Eastern courts, subject to the Company, are, however, now shornof much of their glory; and the condition of the upper classes isgreatly changed. Under the Mogul rule, the country was farmed out toZemindars, some of whom assumed the title of Rajah: they collectedthe revenue for the Sovereign, retaining by law ten per cent. on allthat was realized: there was no intermediate class, the peasantpaying directly to the Zemindar, and he into the royal treasury.Latterly the Zemindars have become farmers under the Company's rule;and in the adjudication of their claims, Lord Cornwallis (thenGovernor-General) made great sacrifices in their favour, levying onlya small tribute in proportion to their often great revenues, in thehope that they would be induced to devote their energies, and some oftheir means, to the improvement of the condition of the peasantry.This expectation was not realized: the younger Zemindars especially,subject to no restraint (except from aggressions on theirneighbours), fell into slothful habits, and the collecting of therevenue became a trading speculation, entrusted to "middle men."The Zemindar selects a number, who again are at liberty to collectthrough the medium of several sub-renting classes. Hence the peasantsuffers, and except a generally futile appeal to the Rajah, he has noredress. The law secures him tenure as long as he can pay his rent,and to do this he has recourse to the usurer; borrowing in spring (at50, and oftener 100 per cent.) the seed, plough, and bullocks: hereaps in autumn, and what is then not required for his own use, issold to pay off part of his original debt, the rest standing overtill the next season; and thus it continues to accumulate, till,overwhelmed with difficulties, he is ejected, or flees to aneighbouring district. The Zemindar enjoys the same right of tenureas the peasant: the amount of impost laid on his property was fixedfor perpetuity; whatever his revenue be, he must pay so much to theCompany, or he forfeits his estates, and they are put up for auction.

One evening we visited the young Rajah at his residence, which hasrather a good appearance at a distance, its white walls gleamingthrough a dark tope of mango, betel, and cocoa-nut. A short rudeavenue leads to the entrance gate, under the trees of which a largebazaar was being held; stocked with cloths, simple utensils,ornaments, sweetmeats, five species of fish from the Teesta, and thebetel-nut.

We entered through a guard-house, where were some of the Rajah'sSepoys in the European costume, and a few of the Company's troops,lent to the Rajah as a security against some of the turbulentpretenders to his title. Within was a large court-yard, flanked by arange of buildings, some of good stone-work, some of wattle, in allstages of disrepair. A great crowd of people occupied one end of thecourt, and at the other we were received by the Dewan, and seated onchairs under a canopy supported by slender silvered columns.Some slovenly Natch-girls were dancing before us, kicking up cloudsof dust, and singing or rather bawling through their noses, the usualindelicate hymns in honour of the Hooli festival; there were alsofiddlers, cutting uncouth capers in rhythm with the dancers.Anything more deplorable than the music, dancing, and accompaniments,cannot well be imagined; yet the people seemed vastly pleased, andextolled the performers.

The arrival of the Rajah and his brothers was announced by a crash oftom-toms and trumpets, while over their heads were carried great giltcanopies. With them came a troop of relations, of all ages; andamongst them a poor little black girl, dressed in honour of us in anold-fashioned English chintz frock and muslin cap, in which she cutthe drollest figure imaginable; she was carried about for ouradmiration, like a huge Dutch doll, crying lustily all the time.

The festivities of the evening commenced by handing round trays fullof pith-balls, the size of a nutmeg, filled with a mixture of flour,sand, and red lac-powder; with these each pelted his neighbour, thethin covering bursting as it struck any object, and powdering itcopiously with red dust. A more childish and disagreeable sportcannot well be conceived; and when the balls were expended, the dustit*elf was resorted to, not only fresh, but that which had alreadybeen used was gathered up, with whatever dirt it might have becomemixed. One rude fellow, with his hand full, sought to entrap hisvictims into talking, when he would stuff the nasty mixture intotheir mouths.

At the end attar of roses was brought, into which little pieces ofcotton, fixed on slips of bamboo, were dipped, and given to eachperson. The heat, dust, stench of the unwashed multitude, noise, andincreasing familiarity of the lower orders, warned us to retire, andwe effected our retreat with precipitancy.

The Rajah and his brother were very fine boys, lively, frank,unaffected, and well disposed: they have evidently a good guide inthe old Dewan; but it is melancholy to think how surely, should theygrow up in possession of their present rank, they will lapse intoslothful habits, and take their place amongst the imbeciles who nowrepresent the once powerful Rajahs of Bengal.

We rode back to our tents by a bright moonlight, very dusty andtired, and heartily glad to breathe the cool fresh air, after thestifling ordeal we had undergone.

On the following evening the elephants were again in waiting toconduct us to the Rajah. He and his relations were assembled outsidethe gates, mounted upon elephants, amid a vast concourse of people.The children and Dewan were seated in a sort of cradle; the rest weresome in howdahs, and some astride on elephants' backs, six or eighttogether. All the idols were paraded before them, and powdered withred dust; the people howling, shouting, and sometimes quarrelling.Our elephants took their places amongst those of the Rajah; and whenthe mob had sufficiently pelted one another with balls and dirty redpowder, a torchlight procession was formed, the idols leading theway, to a very large tank, bounded by a high rampart, within whichwas a broad esplanade round the water.

The effect of the whole was very striking, the glittering cars andbarbaric gaud of the idols showing best by torchlight; while thewhite robes and turbans of the undulating sea of people, and thegreat black elephants picking their way with matchless care andconsideration, contrasted strongly with the quiet moonbeams sleepingon the still broad waters of the tank.

Thence the procession moved to a field, where the idols were placedon the ground, and all dismounted: the Dewan then took the childrenby the hand, and each worshipped his tutelary deity in a short prayerdictated by the attendant Brahmin, and threw a handful of red dust inits face. After another ordeal of powder, singing, dancing, andsuffocation, our share in the Hooli ended; and having been promisedelephants for the following morning, we bade a cordial farewell toour engaging little hosts and their staid old governor.

On the 10th of March we were awakened at an early hour by a heavythunder-storm from the south-west. The sunrise was very fine, throughan arch 10 degrees high of bright blue sky, above which the wholefirmament was mottled with cirrus. It continued cloudy, with lightwinds, througbout the day, but clear on the horizon. From this tingesuch storms became frequent, ushering in the equinox; and the lesshazy sky and rising hygrometer predicted an accession of moisture inthe atmosphere.

We left for Rangamally, a village eight miles distant in a northerlydirection, our course lying along the west bank of the Teesta.

The river is here navigated by canoes, thirty to forty feet long,some being rudely cut out of a solid log of Sal, while others arebuilt, the planks, of which there are but few, being sewed together,or clamped with iron, and the seams caulked with the fibres of theroot of Dhak (Butea frondosa), and afterwards smeared with thegluten of Diospyros embryopteris. The bed of the river is herethreequarters of a mile across, of which the stream does not occupyone-third; its banks are sand-cliffs, fourteen feet in height. A fewsmall fish and water-snakes swarm in the pools.

The whole country improved in fertility as we advanced towards themountains: the grass became greener, and more trees, shrubs, herbs,and birds appeared. In front, the dark boundary-line of the Salforest loomed on the horizon, and to the east rose the low hills ofBhotan, both backed by the outer ranges of the Himalaya.

Flocks of cranes were abundant over-head, flying in wedges, orbreaking up into "open order," preparing for their migrationnorthwards, which takes place in April, their return occurring inOctober; a small quail was also common on the ground. Tamarisk("Jhow") grew in the sandy bed of the river; its flexible youngbranches are used in various parts of India for wattling andbasket-making.

In the evening we walked to the skirts of the Sal forest. The greattrunks of the trees were often scored by tigers' claws, this animalindulging in the cat-like propensity of rising and stretching itselfa*gainst such objects. Two species of Dillenia were common in theforest, with long grass, Symplocos, Emblica, and Cassia Fistula,now covered with long pods. Several parasitical air-plants grew onthe dry trees, as Oberonia, Vanda, and Aerides.

At Rangamally, the height of the sandy banks of the Teesta variesfrom fifteen to twenty feet. The bed is a mile across, and all sand;*[Now covered with Anthistiria grass, fifteen feet high, a littleSissoo, and Bombax.] the current much divided, and opaque green,from the glacial origin of most of its head-streams. The west bankwas covered with a small Sal forest, mixed with Acacia Catechu, andbrushwood, growing in a poor vegetable loam, over very dry sand.

The opposite (or Bhotan) bank is much lower, and always floodedduring the rains, which is not the case on the western side, wherethe water rises to ten feet below the top of the bank, or from sevento ten feet above its height in the dry season, and it then fills itswhole bed. This information we had from a police Jemadar, who hasresided many years on this unhealthy spot, and annually suffers fromfever. The Sal forest has been encroached upon from the south, formany miles, within the memory of man, by clearing in patches, and byindiscriminate felling.

About ten miles north of Rangamally, we came to an extensive flat,occupying a recess in the high west bank, the site of the old capital(Bai-kant-pore) of the Jeelpigoree Rajah. Hemmed in as it is on threesides by a dense forest, and on all by many miles of malarious Terai,it appears sufficiently secure from ordinary enemies, during a greatpart of the year. The soil is sandy, overlying gravel, and coveredwith a thick stratum of fine mud or silt, which is only deposited onthese low flats; on it grew many naturalized plants, as hemp,tobacco, jack, mango, plantain, and orange.

About eight miles on, we left the river-bed, and struck westerlythrough a dense forest, to a swampy clearance occupied by the villageof Rummai, which appeared thoroughly malarious; and we pitched thetent on a narrow, low ridge, above the level of the plain.

It was now cool and pleasant, partly due, no doubt, to a differencein the vegetation, and the proximity of swamp and forest, and partlyalso to a change in the weather, which was cloudy and threatening;much rain, too, had fallen here on the preceding day.

Brahmins and priests of all kinds are few in this miserable country:near the villages, and under the large trees, are, every here andthere, a few immature thatched cottages, four to six feet high, inwhich the tutelary deities of the place are kept; they are idols ofthe very rudest description, of Vishnu as an ascetic (Bai-kant Nath),a wooden doll, gilt and painted, standing, with the hands raised asif in exhortation, and one leg crossed over the other. Again, Kartik,the god of war, is represented sitting astride on a peaco*ck, with theright hand elevated and holding a small flat cup.

Some fine muscular Cooches were here brought for Mr. Hodgson'sexamination, but we found them unable or unwilling to converse, inthe Cooch tongue, which appears to be fast giving place to Bengalee.

We walked to a stream, which flows at the base of the retiringsand-cliffs, and nourishes a dense and richly-varied jungle,producing many plants, as beautiful Acanthaceae, Indianhorse-chesnut, loaded with white racemes of flowers, gayConvolvuli, laurels, terrestrial and parasitic Orchideae,Dillenia, casting its enormous flowers as big as two fists, pepper,figs, and, in strange association with these, a hawthorn, and theyellow-flowered Indian strawberry, which ascends 7,500 feet on themountains, and Hodgsonia, a new Cucurbitaceous genus, clinging inprofusion to the trees, and also found 5000 feet high on themountains.

In the evening we rode into the forest (which was dry and veryunproductive), and thence along the river-banks, through AcaciaCatechu, belted by Sissoo, which often fringes the stream, alwaysoccupying the lowest flats. The foliage at this season is brilliantlygreen; and as the evening advanced, a yellow convolvulus burst intoflower like magic, adorning the bushes over which it climbed.

It rained on the following morning; after which we left for the exitof the Teesta, proceeding northwards, sometimes through a denseforest of Sal timber, sometimes dipping into marshy depressions, orriding through grassy savannahs, breast-high. The coolness of theatmosphere was delicious, and the beauty of the jungle seemed toincrease the further we penetrated these primaeval forests.

Eight miles from Rummai we came on a small river from the mountains,with a Cooch village close by, inhabited during the dry season bytimber-cutters from Jeelpigoree it is situated upon a very rich blacksoil, covered with Saccharum and various gigantic grasses, but nobamboo. These long grasses replace the Sal, of which we did not seeone good tree.

We here mounted the elephants, and proceeded several miles throughthe prairie, till we again struck upon the high Sal forest-bank,continuous with that of Rummai and Rangamally, but much loftier: itformed one of many terraces which stretch along the foot of thehills, from Punkabaree to the Teesta, but of which none are said tooccur for eight miles eastwards along the Bhotan Dooars: if true,this is probably due in part to the alteration of the course of theTeesta, which is gradually working to the westward, and cutting awaythese lofty banks.

The elephant-drivers appeared to have taken us by mistake to the exitof the Chawa, a small stream which joins the Teesta further to theeastward. The descent to the bed of this rivulet, round the firstspur of rock we met with, was fully eighty feet, through a veryirregular depression, probably the old bed of the stream; it runssouthwards from the hills, and was covered from top to bottom withslate-pebbles. We followed the river to its junction with the Teesta,along a flat, broad gulley, bounded by densely-wooded, steep banks ofclay slate on the north, and the lofty bank on the south: betweenthese the bed was strewed with great boulders of gneiss and otherrocks, luxuriantly clothed with long grass, and trees of wildplantain, Erythrina and Bauhinia, the latter gorgeouslyin flower.

The Sal bank formed a very fine object: it was quite perpendicular,and beautifully stratified with various coloured sands and gravel: ittailed off abruptly at the junction of the rivers, and then trendedaway south-west, forming the west bank of the Teesta. The latterriver is at its outlet a broad and rapid, but hardly impetuousstream, now fifty yards across, gushing from between two low,forest-clad spurs: it appeared about five feet deep, and wasbeautifully fringed on both sides with green Sissoo.

Some canoes were here waiting for us, formed of hollowed trunks oftrees, thirty feet long: two were lashed together with bamboos, andthe boatmen sat one at the head and one at the stern of each: we layalong the bottom of the vessels, and in a second we were dartingdown the river, at the rate of at least ten or fifteen miles an hour,the bright waters leaping up on all sides, and bounding injets-d'eau between prows and sterns of the coupled vessels.Sometimes we glided along without perceptible motion, and at othersjolted down bubbling rapids, the steersmen straining every nerve tokeep their bark's head to the current, as she impatiently swervedfrom side to side in the eddies. To our jaded and parched frames,after the hot forenoon's ride on the elephants, the effect wasdelicious: the fresh breeze blew on our heated foreheads and down ouropen throats and chests; we dipped our hands into the clear, coolstream, and there was "music in the waters" to our ears.Fresh verdure on the banks, clear pebbles, soft sand, long Englishriver-reaches, forest glades, and deep jungles, followed in rapidsuccession; and as often as we rounded a bend or shot a rapid, thescene changed from bright to brighter still; so continuing untildusk, when we were slowly paddling along the then torpid currentopposite Rangamally.* [The following temperatures of the waters ofthe Teesta were taken at intervals during our passage from its exitto Rangamally, a distance of fifteen linear miles, and thirty milesfollowing the bends:—

Water. Air.
Exit 2h. 30m. p.m. 62 degrees
3 62.2 degrees 74 degrees
3.30 63.2 degrees
4 64 degrees
4.30 65 degrees
5 65.4 degrees 72.5 degrees opposite Rummai
5.30 66 degrees
6 66 degrees 71.7 degrees opposite Baikant]

The absence of large stones or boulders of rock in the bed of theTeesta is very remarkable, considering the great volume and rapidityof the current, and that it shoots directly from the rocky hills tothe gravelly plains. At the embouchure there are boulders as bigas the head, and in the stream, four miles below the exit, theboatmen pointed out a stone as large as the body as quite a marvel.

They assured us that the average rise at the mouth of the river, inthe rains, was not more than five feet: the mean breadth of thestream is from seventy to ninety yards. From the point where itleaves the mountains, to its junction with the Megna, is at thisseason thirteen days' voyage, the return occupying from twenty totwenty-five days, with the boats unladen. The name "Teesta" signifies"quiet," this river being so in comparison with other Himalayantorrents further west, the Cosi, Konki, etc., which are devastatorsof all that bounds their course.

We passed but two crossing-places: at one the river is divided by anisland, covered with the rude chaits and flags of the Boodhists.We also saw some Cooch fishermen, who throw the net much as we do:a fine "Mahaser" (a very large carp) was the best fish they had.Of cultivation there was very little, and the only habitations were afew grass-huts of the boatmen or buffalo herdsmen, a rare Coochvillage of Catechu and Sal cutters, or the shelter oftimber-floaters, who seem to pass the night in nests of longdry grass.

Our servants not having returned with the elephants from Rummai, wespent the following day at Rangamally shooting and botanizing.I collected about 100 species in a couple of hours, and observedperhaps twice that number: the more common I have repeatedly alludedto, and excepting some small terrestrial Orchids, I added nothingof particular interest to my collection.* [The following is a list ofthe principal genera, most of which are English:—Polygonum,Quercus, Sonchus, Gnaphalium, Cratagus, Lobelia, Lactuca,Hydrocotyle, Saponaria, Campanula, Bidens, Rubus, Oxalis, Artemisia,Fragaria, Clematis, Dioscorea, Potamogeton, Chara, Veronica,Viola, Smilax.]

On the 14th of March we proceeded west to Siligoree, along the skirtsof the ragged Sal forest. Birds are certainly the most conspicuousbranch of the natural history of this country, and we saw manyspecies, interesting either from their habits, beauty, or extensivedistribution. We noticed no less than sixteen kinds of swimmingbirds, several of which are migratory and English. The Shoveller,white-eyed and common wild ducks; Merganser, Brahminee, and Indiangoose (Anser Indica); common and Gargany teal; two kinds of gull;one of Shearwater (Rhynchops ablacus); three of tern, and one ofcormorant. Besides these there were three egrets, the large crane,stork, green heron, and the demoiselle; the English sand-martin,kingfisher, peregrine-falcon, sparrow-hawk, kestrel, and the Europeanvulture: the wild peaco*ck, and jungle-fowl. There were at least 100peculiarly Indian birds in addition, of which the more remarkablewere several kinds of mina, of starling, vulture, kingfisher, magpie,quail, and lapwing.

The country gradually became quite beautiful, much undulated anddiversified by bright green meadows, sloping lawns, and deeply woodednullahs, which lead from the Sal forest and meander through thisvaried landscape. More beautiful sites for fine mansions could notwell be, and it is difficult to suppose so lovely a country should beso malarious as it is before and after the rains, excessive heatprobably diffusing widely the miasma from small stagnant surfaces.We noticed a wild hog, absolutely the first wild beast of any size Isawon the plains, except the hispid hare (Lepus hispidus) and thebarking deer (Stylocerus ratna). The hare we found to be the bestgame of this part of India, except the teal. The pheasants ofDorjiling are poor, the deer all but uneatable, and the florican,however dressed, I considered a far from excellent bird.

A good many plants grow along the streams, the sandy beds of whichare everywhere covered with the marks of tigers' feet. The only safeway of botanizing is by pushing through the jungle on elephants; anuncomfortable method, from the quantity of ants and insects whichdrop from the foliage above, and from the risk of disturbingpendulous bees' and ants' nests.

A peculiar species of willow (Salix tetrasperma) is common here;which is a singular fact, as the genus is characteristic of cold andarctic latitudes; and no species is found below 5000 feet elevationon the Sikkim mountain, where it grows on the inner Himalaya only,some kinds ascending to 16,000 feet.

East of Siligoree the plains are unvaried by tree or shrub, and arebarren wastes of short turf or sterile sand, with the dwarf-palm(Phoenix acaulis), a sure sign of a most hungry soil.

The latter part of the journey I performed on elephants during theheat of the day, and a more uncomfortable mode of conveyance surelynever was adopted; the camel's pace is more fatiguing, but that ofthe elephant is extremely trying after a few miles, and is soinjurious to the human frame that the Mahouts (drivers) never reachan advanced age, and often succumb young to spine-diseases, broughton by the incessant motion of the vertebral column. The broiling heatof the elephant's black back, and the odour of its oily driver, aredisagreeable accompaniments, as are its habits of snorting water fromits trunk over its parched skin, and the consequences of the greatbulk of green food which it consumes.

From Siligoree I made a careful examination of the gravel beds thatoccur on the road north to the foot of the hills, and thence over thetertiary sandstone to Punkabaree. At the Rukti river, which flowssouth-west, the road suddenly rises, and crosses the firstconsiderable hill, about two miles south of any rock in situ.This river cuts a cliff from 60 to 100 feet high, composed ofstratified sand and water-worn gravel: further south, the spurdeclines into the plains, its course marked by the Sal that thriveson its gravelly soil. The road then runs north-west over a plain toan isolated hill about 200 feet high, also formed of sand and gravel.We ascended to the top of this, and found it covered with blocks ofgneiss, and much angular detritus. Hence the road gradually ascends,and becomes clayey. Argillaceous rocks, and a little ochreoussandstone appeared in highly-inclined strata, dipping north, andcovered with great water-worn blocks of gneiss. Above, a flatterrace, flanked to the eastward by a low wooded hill, and anotherrise of sandstone, lead on to the great Baisarbatti terrace.

Bombax, Erythrina, and Duabanga (Lagaerstraemia grandiflora),were in full flower, and with the profusion of Bauhinia, renderedthe tree-jungle gay: the two former are leafless when flowering.The Duabanga is the pride of these forests. Its trunk, from eight tofifteen feet in girth, is generally forked from the base, and thelong pendulous branches which clothe the trunk for 100 feet, arethickly leafy, and terminated by racemes of immense white flowers,which, especially when in bud, smell most disagreeably ofassafoetida. The magnificent Apocyneous climber, Beaumontia, was infull bloom, ascending the loftiest trees, and clothing their trunkswith its splendid foliage and festoons of enormous funnel-shapedwhite flowers.

The report of a bed of iron-stone eight or ten miles west ofPunkabaree determined our visiting the spot; and the locality beingin a dense jungle, the elephants were sent on ahead.

We descended to the terraces flanking the Balasun river, and struckwest along jungle-paths to a loosely-timbered flat. A sudden descentof 150 feet landed us on a second terrace. Further on, a third dip ofabout twenty feet (in some places obliterated) flanks the bed of theBalasun; the river itself being split into many channels at thisseason. The west bank, which is forty feet high, is of stratifiedsand and gravel, with vast slightly-worn blocks of gneiss: from thetop of this we proceeded south-west for three miles to some Mechivillages, the inhabitants of which flocked to meet us, bringing milkand refreshments.

The Lohar-ghur, or "iron hill," lies in a dense dry forest.Its plain-ward flanks are very steep, and covered with scatteredweather-worn masses of ochreous and black iron-stone, many of whichare several yards long: it fractures with faint metallic lustre, andis very earthy in parts: it does not affect the compass. There are nopebbles of iron-stone, nor water-worn rocks of any kind foundwith it.

The sandstones, close by, cropped out in thick beds (dip north 70degrees): they are very soft, and beds of laminated clay, and of aslaty rock, are intercalated with them; also an excessively toughconglomerate, formed of an indurated blue or grey paste, with nodulesof harder clay. There are no traces of metal in the rock, and thelumps of ore are wholly superficial.

Below Punkabaree the Baisarbatti stream cuts through banks of graveloverlying the sandstone (dip north 65 degrees). The sandstone isgritty and micaceous, intercalated with beds of indurated shale andclay; in which I found the shaft (apparently) of a bone; there werealso beds of the same clay conglomerate which I had seen atLohar-ghur, and thin seams of brown lignite; with a rhomboidalcleavage. In the bed of the stream were carbonaceous shales, withobscure impressions of fern leaves, of Trizygia, and Vertebraria:both fossils characteristic of the Burdwan coal-fields (see ChapterI), but too imperfect to justify any conclusion as to the relationbetween these formations.* [These traces of fossils are notsufficient to identify the formation with that of the sewalik hillsof North-west India; but its contents, together with its strike, dip,and position relatively to the mountains, and its mineralogicalcharacter, incline me to suppose it may be similar. Its appearance insuch small quantities in Sikkim (where it rises but a few hundredfeet above the level of the sea, whereas in Kumaon it reaches 4000feet), may be attributed to the greater amount of wearing which itmust have undergone; the plains from which it rises being 1000 feetlower than those of Kumaon, and the sea having consequently retiredlater, exposing the Sikkim sandstone to the effects of denudation fora much longer period. Hitherto no traces of this rock, or of anybelonging to a similar geological epoch, have been found in thevalleys of Sikkim; but when the narrowness of these is considered, itwill not appear strange that such may have been removed from theirsurfaces: first, by the action of a tidal ocean; and afterwards, bythat of tropical rains.]

Ascending the stream, these shales are seen in situ, overlain bythe metamorphic clay-slate of the mountains, and dipping inwards(northwards) like them. This is at the foot of the Punkabaree spur,and close to the bungalow, where a stream and land-slip expose goodsections. The carbonaceous beds dip north 60 degrees and 70 degrees,and run east and west; much quartz rock is intercalated with them,and soft white and pink micaceous sandstones. The coal-seams are fewin number, six to twelve inches thick, very confused and distorted,and full of elliptic nodules, or spheroids of quartzy slate, coveredwith concentric scaly layers of coal: they overlie the sandstonesmentioned above. These scanty notices of superposition beingcollected in a country clothed with the densest tropical forest,where a geologist pursues his fatiguing investigations underdisadvantages that can hardly be realized in England, will I fearlong remain unconfirmed. I may mention, however, that the appearanceof inversion of the strata at the foot of great mountain-masses hasbeen observed in the Alleghany chain, and I believe in the Alps.*[Dr. M'Lelland informs me that in the Curruckpore hills, south of theGanges, the clay-slates are overlain by beds of mica-slate, gneiss,and granite, which pass into one another.]

Illustration—A MECH, NATIVE OF THE SIKKIM TERAI.

A poor Mech was fishing in the stream, with a basket curiously formedof a cylinder of bamboo, cleft all round in innumerable strips, heldtogether by the joints above and below; these strips being stretchedout as a balloon in the middle, and kept apart by a hoop: a smallhole is cut in the cage, and a mouse-trap entrance formed: the cageis placed in the current with the open end upwards, where the fishget in, and though little bigger than minnows, cannot find theirway out.

On the 20th we had a change in the weather: a violent storm from thesouth-west occurred at noon, with hail of a strange form, the stonesbeing sections of hollow spheres, half an inch across and upwards,formed of cones with truncated apices and convex bases; these coneswere aggregated together with their bases outwards. The large masseswere followed by a shower of the separate conical pieces, and that byheavy rain. On the mountains this storm was most severe: the stoneslay at Dorjiling for seven days, congealed into masses of ice severalfeet long and a foot thick in sheltered places: at Purneah, fiftymiles south, stones one and two inches across fell, probably aswhole spheres.

Ascending to Khersiong, I found the vegetation very backward by theroad-sides. The rain had cleared the atmosphere, and the view overthe plains was brilliant. On the top of the Khersiong spur atremendous gale set in with a cold west wind: the storm cleared offat night, which at 10 p.m. was beautiful, with forked and sheetlightning over the plains far below us. The equinoctial gales had nowfairly set in, with violent south-east gales, heavy thunder,lightning, and rain.

Whilst at Khersiong I took advantage of the very fair sectionafforded by the road from Punkabaree, to examine the structure of thespur, which seems to be composed of very highly inclined contortedbeds (dip north) of metamorphic rocks, gneiss, mica-slate,clay-slate, and quartz; the foliation of which beds is parallel tothe dip of the strata. Over all reposes a bed of clay, capped with alayer of vegetable mould, nowhere so thick and rich as in the morehumid regions of 7000 feet elevation. The rocks appeared in thefollowing succession in descending. Along the top are found greatblocks of very compact gneiss buried in clay. Half a mile lower thesame rock appears, dipping north-north-east 50 degrees. Below this,beds of saccharine quartz, with seams of mica, dip north-north-west20 degrees. Some of these quartz beds are folded on themselves, andlook like flattened trunks of trees, being composed of concentriclayers, each from two to four inches thick: we exposed twenty-sevenfeet of one fold running along the side of the road, which was cutparallel to the strike. Each layer of quartz was separated from itsfellows, by one of mica scales; and was broken up into cubicalfragments, whose surfaces are no doubt cleavage and jointing places.I had previously seen, but not understood, such flexures produced bymetamorphic action on masses of quartz when in a pasty state, in theFalkland Islands, where they have been perfectly well described byMr. Darwin;* [Journal of Geological Society for 1846, p. 267, and"Voyage of the Beagle".] in whose views of the formation of theserocks I entirely concur.

The flexures of the gneiss are incomparably more irregular andconfused than those of the quartz, and often contain flattenedspheres of highly crystalline felspar, that cleave perpendicularly tothe shorter axis. These spheres are disposed in layers parallel tothe foliation of the gneiss: and are the result of a metamorphicaction of great intensity, effecting a complete rearrangement andcrystallization of the quartz and mica in parallel planes, whilst thefelspar is aggregated in spheres; just as in the rearrangement of themineral constituents of mica-schists, the alumina is crystallized inthe garnets, and in the clay-slates the iron into pyrites.

The quartz below this dips north-north-west 45 degrees to 50 degrees,and alternates with a very hard slaty schist, dipping north-west 45degrees, and still lower is a blue-grey clay-slate, dippingnorth-north-west 30 degrees. These rest on beds of slate, folded likethe quartz mentioned above, but with cleavage-planes, forming linesradiating from the axis of each flexure, and running through all theconcentric folds. Below this are the plumbago and clay slates ofPunkabaree, which alternate with beds of mica-schist with garnets,and appear to repose immediately upon the carboniferous strata andsandstone; but there is much disturbance at the junction.

On re-ascending from Punkabaree, the rocks gradually appear more andmore dislocated, the clay-slate less so than the quartz andmica-schist, and that again far less than the gneiss, which is soshattered and bent, that it is impossible to say what is in situ,and what not. Vast blocks lie superficially on the ridges; and thetops of all the outer mountains, as of Khersiong spur, of Tonglo,Sinchul, and Dorjiling, appear a pile of such masses. Injected veinsof quartz are rare in the lower beds of schist and clay-slate, whilstthe gneiss is often full of them; and on the inner and loftierranges, these quartz veins are replaced by granite with tourmaline.

Lime is only known as a stalactitic deposit from various streams, atelevations from 1000 to 7000 feet; one such stream occurs abovePunkabaree, which I have not seen; another within the Sinchul range,on the great Rungeet river, above the exit of the Rummai; a thirdwholly in the great central Himalayan range, flowing into the Lachenriver. The total absence of any calcareous rock in Sikkim, and theappearance of the deposit in isolated streams at such distantlocalities, probably indicates a very remote origin of thelime-charged waters.

From Khersiong to Dorjiling, gneiss is the only rock, and is oftendecomposed into clay-beds, 20 feet deep, in which the narrow, oftenzigzag folia of quartz remain quite entire and undisturbed, whilstevery trace of the foliation of the softer mineral is lost.

At Pacheem, Dorjiling weather, with fog and drizzle, commenced, andcontinued for two days: we, reached Dorjiling on the 24th of March,and found that the hail which had fallen on the 20th was still lyingin great masses of crumbling ice in sheltered spots. The fall haddone great damage to the gardens, and Dr. Campbell's tea-plants werecut to pieces.

Illustration—POCKET-COMB USED BY THE MECH TRIBES.

END OF VOLUME I OF HIMALAYAN JOURNALS.