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 peacock—Poppy fields—Geography and geology of Behar and
Central India—Toddy-palm—Ground, temperature of—Barroon—Temperature of
plants—Lizard—Cross the Soane—Sand, ripple marks on—Kymore
hills—Ground, temperature of—Limestone—Rotas fort and palace—Nitrate of
lime—Change of climate—Lime stalagmites, enclosing leaves—Fall of
Soane—Spiders, etc.—Scenery and natural history of upper Soane
valley—_Hardwickia binata_—Bhel
fruit—Dust-storm—Alligator—Catechu—_Cochlospermum_
—Leaf-bellows—Scorpions—Tortoises—Florican—Limestone
spheres—Coles—Tiger-hunt—Robbery.
In the evening we returned to our tamarind tree, and the next morning
regained the trunk road, following it to the dawk bungalow of Doomree.
On the way I found the _Cæsalpinia paniculuta,_ a magnificent climber,
festooning the trues with its dark glossy foliage and gorgeous racemes
of orange blossoms. Receding from the mountain, the country again
became barren: at Doomree the hills were of crystalline rocks, chiefly
quartz and gneiss; no palms or large trees of any kind appeared. The
spear-grass abounded, and a detestable nuisance it was, its long awns
and husked seed working through trowsers and stockings.
_Balanites_ was not uncommon, forming a low thorny bush, with _Ægle
marmelos_ and _Feronia elephantum._ Having rested the 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, I walked to the bungalow of
Lieutenant Beadle, the surveyor of roads, sixteen miles further.
The country around Baghoda is still very barren, but improves
considerably in going westward, the ground becoming hilly, and the road
winding through prettily wooded valleys, and rising gradually to 1,446
feet. _Nauclea cordifolia,_ a tree resembling a young sycamore, is very
common; with the Semul (_Bombax_), a very striking 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 being 77°,
and the black-bulb thermometer 137°. I had lost my hat, and possessed
no substitute but a silken nightcap; so I had to tie a handkerchief
over my head, to the astonishment of the passers-by. Holding my head
down, I had little source of amusement but reading the foot-marks on
the road; and these were strangely diversified to an English eye. Those
of the elephant, camel, buffalo and bullock, horse, ass, pony, dog,
goat, sheep and kid, lizard, wild-cat and pigeon, with men, women, and
children’s feet, naked and shod, were all recognisable.
It was noon ere I arrived at Lieutenant Beadle’s, at Belcuppee (alt.
1,219 feet), glad enough of the hearty welcome I received, being very
hot, dusty, and hungry. The country about his bungalow is very pretty,
from the number of wooded hills and large trees, especially of banyan
and peepul, noble oak-like Mahowa (_Bassia_), _Nauclea,_ Mango, and
_Ficus infectoria._ These are all scattered, however, and do 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 and birds are numerous, the
latter consisting of jays, crows, doves, sparrows, and maina
(_Pastor_); also the _Phœnicophaus tristis_ (“Mahoka” of the natives),
with a note like that of the English cuckoo, as heard late in the
season. I remained two days with Lieutenant Beadle, enjoying in his
society several excursions to the hot springs, etc. These springs
(called Soorujkoond) are situated close to the road, near the mouth of
a valley, in a remarkably pretty spot. They are, of course, objects of
worship; and a ruined temple stands close behind them, with three very
conspicuous trees—a peepul, a banyan, and a white, thick-stemmed,
leafless _Sterculia,_ whose branches bore dense clusters of greenish
fœtid flowers. The hot springs are four in number, and rise in as many
ruined brick tanks about two yards across. Another tank, fed by a cold
spring, about twice that size, flows between two of the hot, only two
or three paces distant from one of the latter on either hand. All burst
through the gneiss rocks, meet in one stream after a few yards, and are
conducted by bricked canals to a pool of cold water, about eighty yards
off.
The temperatures of the hot springs were respectively 169°, 170°, 173°,
and 190°; of the cold, 84° at 4 p.m., and 75° at 7 a.m. the following
morning. The hottest is the middle of the five. The water of the cold
spring is sweet but not good, and emits gaseous bubbles; it was covered
with a green floating _Conferva._ Of the four hot springs, the most
copious is about three feet deep, bubbles constantly, boils eggs, and
though brilliantly clear, has an exceedingly nauseous taste. This and
the other warm ones cover the bricks and surrounding rocks with a thick
incrustation of salts.
_Confervæ_ abound in the warm stream from the springs, and two species,
one ochreous brown, and the other green, occur on the margins of the
tanks themselves, and in the hottest water; the brown is the best
Salamander, and forms a belt in deeper water than the green; both
appear in broad luxuriant strata, wherever the temp. is cooled down to
168°, and as low as 90°. Of flowering plants, three showed in an
eminent degree a constitution capable of resisting the heat, if not a
predilection for it; these were all _Cyperaceæ,_ a _Cyperus_ and an
_Eleocharis,_ having their roots in water of 100°, and where they are
probably exposed to greater heat, and a _Fimbristylis_ at 98°; all were
very luxuriant. From the edges of the four hot springs I gathered
sixteen species of flowering plants, and from the cold tank five, which
did not grow in the hot. A water-beetle, _Colymbetes_(?) and
_Notonecta,_ abounded in water at 112°, with quantities of dead shells;
frogs were very lively, with live shells, at 90°, and with various
other water beetles. Having no means of detecting the salts of this
water, I bottled some for future analysis.[15]
[15] For an account of the _Confervæ,_ and of the mineral constituents
of the waters, etc. see Appendix B.
On the following day I botanized in the neighbourhood, with but poor
success. An oblique-leaved fig climbs the other trees, and generally
strangles them: two epiphytal _Orchideæ_ also occur on the latter,
_Vanda Roxburghii_ and an _Oberonia._ Dodders (_Cuscuta_) of two
species, and _Cassytha,_ swarm over and conceal the bushes with their
yellow thread-like stems.
I left Belcuppee on the 8th of February, following Mr. Williams’ camp.
The morning was clear and cold, the temperature only 56°. We crossed
the nearly dry broad bed of the Burkutta river, a noble stream during
the rains, carrying along huge boulders of granite and gneiss. Near
this I passed the Cholera-tree, a famous peepul by the road side, so
called from a detachment of infantry having been attacked and decimated
at the spot by that fell disease; it is covered with inscriptions and
votive tokens in the shape of rags, etc. We continued to ascend to
1,360 feet, where I came upon a small forest of the Indian Olibanum
(_Boswellia thurifera_), conspicuous from its pale bark, and spreading
curved branches, leafy at their tips; its general appearance is a good
deal like that of the mountain ash. The gum, celebrated throughout the
East, was flowing abundantly from the trunk, very fragrant and
transparent. The ground was dry, sterile, and rocky; kunker, the
curious formation mentioned at p. 12, appears in the alluvium, which I
had not elsewhere seen at this elevation.
Descending to the village of Burshoot, we lost sight of the
_Boswellia,_ and came upon a magnificent tope of mango, banyan, and
peepul, so far superior to anything hitherto met with, that we were
glad to choose such a pleasant halting-place for breakfast. There are a
few lofty fan-palms here too, great rarities in this soil and
elevation: one, about eighty feet high, towered above some wretched
hovels, displaying the curious proportions of this tribe of palms:
first, a short cone, tapering to one-third the height of the stem, the
trunk then swelling to two-thirds, and again tapering to the crown.
Beyond this, the country again ascends to Burree (alt. 1,169 feet),
another dawk bungalow, a barren place, which we left on the following
morning.
So little was there to observe, that I again amused myself by watching
footsteps, the precision of which in the sandy soil was curious.
Looking down from the elephant, I was interested by seeing them all in
_relief,_ instead of _depressed,_ the slanting rays of the sun in front
producing this kind of mirage. Before us rose no more of those wooded
hills that had been our companions for the last 120 miles, the absence
of which was a sign of the nearly approaching termination of the great
hilly plateau we had been traversing for that distance.
Chorparun, at the top of the Dunwah pass, is situated on an extended
barren flat, 1,320 feet above the sea, and from it the descent from the
table-land to the level of the Soane valley, a little above that of the
Ganges at Patna, is very sudden. The road is carried zizgag down a
rugged hill of gneiss, with a descent of nearly 1000 feet in six miles,
of which 600 are exceedingly steep. The pass is well wooded, with
abundance of bamboo, _Bombax, Cassia, Acacia,_ and _Butea,_ with
_Calotropis,_ the purple Mudar, a very handsome road-side plant, which
I had not seen before, but which, with the _Argemone Mexicana,_ was to
be a companion for hundreds of miles farther. All the views in the pass
are very picturesque, though wanting in good foliage, such as _Ficus_
would afford, of which I did not see one tree. Indeed the rarity of the
genus (except _F. infectoria_) in the native woods of these hills, is
very remarkable. The banyan and peepul always appear to be planted, as
do the tamarind and mango.
Dunwah, at the foot of the pass, is 620 feet above the sea, and nearly
1000 below the mean level of the highland I had been traversing. Every
thing bears here a better aspect; the woods at the foot of the hills
afforded many plants; the bamboo (_B. stricta_) is green instead of
yellow and white; a little castor-oil is cultivated, and the Indian
date (low and stunted) appears about the cottages.
In the woods I heard and saw the wild peacock for the first time. Its
voice is not to be distinguished from that of the tame bird in England,
a curious instance of the perpetuation of character under widely
different circumstances, for the crow of the wild jungle-fowl does not
rival that of the farm-yard cock.
In the evening we left Dunwah for Barah (alt. 480 feet), passing over
very barren soil, covered with low jungle, the original woods having
apparently been cut for fuel. Our elephant, a timid animal, came on a
drove of camels in the dark by the road-side, and in his alarm insisted
on doing battle, tearing through the thorny jungle, regardless of the
mahout, and still more of me: the uproar raised by the camel-drivers
was ridiculous, and the danger to my barometer imminent.
We proceeded on the 11th of February to Sheergotty, where Mr. Williams
and his camp were awaiting our arrival. Wherever cultivation appeared
the crops were tolerably luxuriant, but a great deal of the country
yielded scarcely half-a-dozen kinds of plants to any ten square yards
of ground. The most prevalent were _Carissa carandas, Olax scandens,_
two _Zizyphi,_ and the ever-present _Acacia Catechu._ The climate is,
however, warmer and much moister, for I here observed dew to be formed,
which I afterwards found to be usual on the low grounds. That its
presence is due to the increased amount of vapour in the atmosphere I
shall prove: the amount of radiation, as shown by the cooling of the
earth and vegetation, being the same in the elevated plain and lower
levels.[16]
[16] See Appendix C.
The good soil was very richly cultivated with poppy (which I had not
seen before), sugar-cane, wheat, barley, mustard, rape, and flax. At a
distance a field of poppies looks like a green lake, studded with white
water-lilies. The houses, too, are better, and have tiled roofs; while,
in such situations, the road is lined with trees.
A retrospect of the ground passed over is unsatisfactory, as far as
botany is concerned, except as showing how potent are the effects of a
dry soil and climate during one season of the year upon a vegetation
which has no desert types. During the rains probably many more species
would be obtained, for of annuals I scarcely found twenty. 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 Burdwan and
the Soave is interesting, as being the north-east continuation of a
chain which crosses the broadest part of the peninsula of India, from
the Gulf of Cambay to the junction of the Ganges and Hoogly at
Rajmahal. This range runs south of the Soane and Kymore, which it meets
I believe at Omerkuntuk;[17] the granite of this and the sandstone of
the other, being there both overlaid with trap. Further west again, the
ranges separate, the southern still betraying a nucleus of granite,
forming the Satpur range, which divides the valley of the Taptee from
that of the Nerbudda. The Paras-nath range is, though the most
difficult of definition, the longer of the two parallel ranges; the
Vindhya continued as the Kymore, terminating abruptly at the Fort of
Chunar on the Ganges. The general and geological features of the two,
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 is
Paras-nath. The north-east Vindhya (called Kymore), on the other hand,
consists of nearly horizontal beds of sandstone, overlying inclined
beds of non-fossiliferous limestone. Between the latter and the
Paras-nath gneiss, come (in order of superposition) shivered and
undulating 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 are to be
recognised as forming the rocks of Colgong, of Sultangunj, and of
Monghyr, on the Ganges, as also various detached hills near Gyah, and
along the upper course of the Soane. From these are derived the
beautiful agates and cornelians, so famous under the name of Soane
pebbles, and they are equally common on the Curruckpore range, as on
the south bank of the Soane, so much so in the former position as to
have been used in the decoration of the walls of the now ruined palaces
near Bhagulpore.
[17] A lofty mountain said to be 7000-8000 feet high.
In the route I had taken, I had crossed the eastern extremity alone of
the range, commencing with a very gradual ascent, over the alluvial
plains of the west bank of the Hoogly, then over laterite, succeeded by
sandstone of the Indian coal era, which is succeeded by the granite
table-land, properly so called. A little beyond the coal fields, the
table-land reaches an average height of 1,130 feet, which is continued
for upwards of 100 miles, to the Dunwah pass. Here the descent is
sudden to plains, which, continuous with those of the Ganges, run up
the Soane till beyond Rotasghur. Except for the occasional ridges of
metamorphic rocks mentioned above, and some hills of intruded
greenstone, the lower plain is stoneless, its subjacent rocks being
covered with a thicker stratum of the same alluvium which is thinly
spread over the higher table-land above. This range is of great
interest from its being the source of many important rivers,[18] and of
all those which water the country between the Soane, Hoogly, and
Ganges, as well as from its deflecting the course of the latter river,
which washes its base at Rajmahal, and forcing it to take a sinuous
course to the sea. In its climate and botany it differs equally from
the Gangetic plains to the north, and from the hot, damp, and exuberant
forests of Orissa to the south. Nor are its geological features less
different, or its concomitant and in part resultant characters of
agriculture and native population. Still further west, the great rivers
of the peninsula have their origin, the Nerbudda and Taptee flowing
west to the 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.
[18] The chief rivers from this, the great watershed of western
Bengal, flow north-west and south-east; a few comparatively
insignificant streams running north to the Ganges. Amongst the former
are the Rheru, the Kunner, and the Coyle, which contribute to the
Soane; amongst the latter, the Dammooda, Adji, and Barakah, flow into
the Hoogly, and the Subunrika, Braminee, and Mahanuddee into the Bay
of Bengal.
On the 12th of February, we left Sheergotty (alt. 463 feet), crossing
some small streams, which, like all else seen since leaving the Dunwah
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 in some cases
picturesque features in the otherwise tame landscape.
The road being highly cultivated, and the Date-palm becoming more
abundant, we encamped in a grove of these trees. All were curiously
distorted; the trunks growing zigzag, from the practice of yearly
tapping the alternate sides for toddy. The incision is just below the
crown, and slopes upwards and inwards: a vessel is hung below the
wound, and the juice conducted into it by a little piece of bamboo.
This operation spoils the fruit, which, though eaten, is small, and
much inferior to the African date.
At Mudunpore (alt. 440 feet) a thermometer, sunk 3 feet 4 inches in the
soil, maintained a constant temperature of 71·5°, that of the air
varying from 77·5°, at 3 p.m., to 62 at daylight the following morning;
when we moved on to Nourunga (alt. 340 feet), where I bored to 3 feet 8
inches with a heavy iron jumper through an alluvium of such excessive
tenacity, that eight natives were employed for four hours in the
operation. In both this and another hole, 4 feet 8 inches, the
temperature was 72° at 10 p.m.; and on the following morning 71·5° in
the deepest hole, and 70° in the shallower: that of the external air
varied from 71° at 3 p.m., to 57° at daylight on the following morning.
At the latter time I took the temperature of the earth near the
surface, which showed,
Surface 53° 1 inch 57° 2 inches 58° 4 inches 62° 7
inches 64°
The following day we marched to Baroon (alt. 345 feet) on the alluvial
banks of the Soane, crossing a deep stream by a pretty suspension
bridge, of which the piers were visible two miles off, so level is the
road. The Soane is here three miles wide, its nearly dry bed being a
desert of sand, resembling a vast arm of the sea when the tide is out:
the banks are very barren, with no trees near, and but very few in the
distance. The houses were scarcely visible on the opposite side, behind
which the Kymore mountains rise. The Soane is a classical river, being
now satisfactorily identified with the Eranoboas of the ancients.[19]
[19] The etymology of Eranoboas is undoubtedly _Hierrinia Vahu_
(Sanskrit), the golden-armed. Sons is also the Sanskrit for _gold._
The stream is celebrated for its agates (Soane pebbles), which are
common, but gold is not now obtained from it.
The alluvium is here cut into a cliff, ten or twelve feet above the bed
of the river, and against it the sand is blown in naked _dunes._ At 2
p.m., the surface-sand was heated to 110° where sheltered from the
wind, and 104° in the open bed of the river. To compare the rapidity
and depth to which the heat is communicated by pure sand, and by the
tough alluvium, I took the temperature at some inches depth in both.
That the alluvium absorbs the heat better, and retains it longer, would
appear from the following, the only observations I could make, owing to
the tenacity of the soil.
2 p.m. Surface 104° 2·5 inches 93° 5 inches 88° Sand at
this depth 78° 5 a.m. Surface 51° 28 inches 68·5°
Finding the fresh milky juice of _Calotropis_ to be only 72°, I was
curious to ascertain at what depth this temperature was to be obtained
in the sand of the river-bed, where the plant grew.
Surface 104·5° 1 inch 102° 2 inches 94° 2·5 inches 90° 3·5
inches 85° (Compact) 8 inches 73° (Wet) 15
inches 72° (Wet)
The power this plant exercises of maintaining a low temperature of 72°,
though the main portion which is subterraneous is surrounded by a soil
heated to between 90° and 104°, is very remarkable, and no doubt
proximately due to the rapidity of evaporation from the foliage, and
consequent activity in the circulation. Its exposed leaves maintained a
temperature of 80°, nearly 25° cooler than the similarly exposed sand
and alluvium. On the same night the leaves were cooled down to 54°,
when the sand had cooled to 51°. Before daylight the following morning
the sand had cooled to 43°, and the leaves of the _Calotropis_ to
45·5°. I omitted to observe the temperature of the sap at the latter
time; but the sand at the same depth (15 inches) as that at which its
temperature and that of the plant agreed at mid-day, was 68°. And
assuming this to be the heat of the plant, we find that the leaves are
heated by solar radiation during the day 8°, and cooled by nocturnal
radiation, 22·5°.
Mr. Theobald (my companion in this and many other rambles) pulled a
lizard from a hole in the bank. Its throat was mottled with scales of
brown and yellow. Three ticks had fastened on it, each of a size
covering three or four scales: the first was yellow, corresponding with
the yellow colour of the animal’s belly, where it lodged, the second
brown, from the lizard’s head; but the third, which was clinging to the
parti-coloured scales of the neck, had its body parti-coloured, the
hues corresponding with the individual scales which they covered. The
adaptation of the two first specimens in colour to the parts to which
they adhered, is sufficiently remarkable; but the third case was most
extraordinary.
During the night of the 14th of February, I observed a beautiful
display, apparently of the Aurora borealis, an account of which will be
found in the Appendix.
_February 15._—Our passage through the Soane sands was very tedious,
though accomplished in excellent style, the elephants pushing forward
the heavy waggons of mining tools with their foreheads. The wheels were
sometimes buried to the axles in sand, and the 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 present an imposing spectacle. I
walked across the dry portion, observing the sand-waves, all ranged in
one direction, perpendicular to that of the prevailing wind, accurately
representing the undulations of the ocean, as seen from a mast-head or
high cliff. As the sand was finer or coarser, so did the surface
resemble a gentle ripple, or an ocean-swell. The progressive motion of
the waves was curious, and caused by the lighter particles being blown
over the ridges, and filling up the hollows to leeward. There were a
few islets in the sand, a kind of oases of mud and clay, in laminæ no
thicker than paper, and these were at once denizened by various weeds.
Some large spots were green with wheat and barley-crops, both suffering
from smut. We encamped close to the western shore, at the village of
Dearee (alt. 330 feet); it marks the termination of the Kymore Hills,
along whose S.E. bases our course now lay, as we here quitted the grand
trunk 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 road side. Tilotho, a beautiful village, is situated
in a superb grove of Mango, Banyan, Peepul, Tamarind, and _Bassia._ The
Date or toddy-palm and fan-palm are very abundant and tall: each had a
pot hung under the crown. The natives climb these trunks with a hoop or
cord round the body and both ancles, and a bottle-gourd or other vessel
hanging round the neck to receive the juice from the stock-bottle, in
this aerial wine-cellar. These palms were so lofty that the climbers,
as they paused in their ascent to gaze with wonder at our large
retinue, resembled monkeys rather than men. Both trees yield a toddy,
but in this district they stated that that from the _Phœnix_ (Date)
alone ferments, and is distilled; while in other parts of India, the
_Borassus_ (fan-palm) is chiefly employed. I walked to the hills, over
a level cultivated country interspersed with occasional belts of low
wood; in which the pensile nests of the weaver-bird were abundant, but
generally hanging out of reach, in prickly _Acacias._
The hills here present a straight precipitous wall of horizontally
stratified sandstone, very like the rocks at the Cape of Good Hope,
with occasionally a shallow valley, and a slope of débris at the base,
densely clothed with dry jungle. The cliffs are about 1000 feet high,
and the plants similar to those at the foot of Paras-nath, but stunted:
I climbed to the top, the latter part by steps or ledges of sandstone.
The summit was clothed with long grass, trees of _Diospyros_ and
_Terminalia,_ and here and there the _Boswellia._ On the precipitous
rocks the curious white-barked _Sterculia fœtida_ “flung its arms
abroad,” leafless, and looking as if blasted by lightning.
A hole was sunk here again for the thermometers, and, as usual, with
great labour; the temperatures obtained were—
Air. 4 feet 6 inches,
under good shade
of trees 9 p.m. 64·5° 77° 11 p.m. 76° 5.30
a.m. 58·5° 76°
This is a very great rise (of 4°) above any of those previously
obtained, and certainly indicates a much higher mean temperature of the
locality. I can only suppose it due to the radiation of heat from the
long range of sandstone cliff, exposed to the south, which overlooks
the flat whereon we were encamped, and which, though four or five miles
off, forms a very important feature. The differences of temperature in
the shade taken on this and the other side of the river are 2·75°
higher on this side.
On the 17th we marched to Akbarpore (alt. 400 feet), a village overhung
by the rocky precipice of Rotasghur, a spur of the Kymore, standing
abruptly forward.
The range, in proceeding up the Soane valley, gradually approaches the
river, and beds of non-fossiliferous limestone are seen protruding
below the sandstone and occasionally rising into rounded hills, the
paths upon which appear as white as do those through the chalk
districts of England. The overlying beds of sandstone are nearly
horizontal, or with a dip to the N.W.; the subjacent ones of limestone
dip at a greater angle. Passing between the river and a detached
conical hill of limestone, capped with a flat mass of sandstone, the
spur of Rotas broke suddenly on the view, and very grand it was, quite
realising my anticipations of the position of these eyrie-like
hill-forts of India. To the left of the spur winds the 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 and beautifully wooded amphitheatre,
about four miles deep, bounded with a continuation of the escarpment.
At the foot of the crowned spur is the village of Akbarpore, where we
encamped in a Mango tope;[20] it occupies some pretty undulating
limestone hills, amongst which several streams flow from the
amphitheatre to the Soane. During our two days’ stay here, I had the
advantage of the society of Mr. C. E. Davis, who was our guide during
some rambles in the neighbourhood, and to whose experience, founded on
the best habits of observation, I am indebted for much information. At
noon we started to ascend to the palace, on the top of the spur. On the
way we passed a beautiful well, sixty feet deep, and with a fine flight
of steps to the bottom. Now neglected and overgrown with flowering
weeds and creepers, it afforded me many of the plants I had only
previously obtained in a withered state; it was curious to observe
there some of the species of the hill-tops, whose seeds doubtless are
scattered abundantly over the surrounding plains, and only vegetate
where they find a coolness and moisture resembling that of the altitude
they elsewhere affect. A fine fig-tree growing out of the stone-work
spread its leafy green branches over the well mouth, which was about
twelve feet square; its roots assumed a singular form, enveloping two
sides of the walls with a beautiful net-work, which at _high-water
mark_ (rainy season), abruptly divides into thousands of little
brushes, dipping into the water which they fringe. It was a pretty cool
place to descend to, from a temperature of 80° above, to 74° at the
bottom, where the water was 60°; and most refreshing to look, either up
the shaft to the green fig shadowing the deep profound, or along the
sloping steps through a vista of flowering herbs and climbing plants,
to the blue heaven of a burning sky.
[20] On the 24th of June, 1848, the Soane rose to an unprecedented
height, and laid this grove of Mangos three feet under water.
The ascent to Rotas is over the dry hills of limestone, covered with a
scrubby brushwood, to a crest where are the first rude and ruined
defences. The limestone is succeeded by the sandstone cliff cut into
steps, which led from ledge to ledge and gap to gap, well guarded with
walls and an archway of solid masonry. Through this we passed on to the
flat summit of the Kymore hills, covered with grass and forest,
intersected by paths in all directions. The ascent is about 1,200
feet—a long pull in the blazing sun of February. The turf consists
chiefly of spear-grass and _Andropogon muricatus,_ the kus-kus, which
yields a favourite fragrant oil, used as a medicine in India. The trees
are of the kinds mentioned before. A pretty octagonal summer-house,
with its roof supported by pillars, occupies one of the highest points
of the plateau, and commands a superb view of the scenery before
described. From this a walk of three miles leads through the woods to
the palace. The buildings are very extensive, and though now ruinous,
bear evidence of great beauty in the architecture: light galleries,
supported by slender columns, long cool arcades, screened squares and
terraced walks, are the principal features. The rooms open out upon
flat roofs, commanding views of the long endless table-land to the
west, and a sheer precipice of 1000 feet 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 most recently
reduced forts, and this was further the last of those wrested from
Baber in 1542. Some of the rooms are still habitable, but the greater
part are ruinous, and covered with climbers, both of wild flowers and
of the naturalised garden plants of the adjoining shrubbery; the
_Arbor-tristis,_ with _Hibiscus, Abutilon,_ etc., and above all, the
little yellow-flowered _Linaria ramosissima,_ crawling over every
ruined wall, as we see the walls of our old English castles clothed
with its congener _L. Cymbalaria._
In the old dark stables I observed the soil to be covered with a
copious evanescent efflorescence of nitrate of lime, like soap-suds
scattered about.
I made Rotas Palace 1,490 feet above the sea, so that this table-land
is here only fifty feet higher than that I had crossed on the grand
trunk road, before descending at the Dunwah pass. Its mean temperature
is of course considerably (4°) below that of the valley, but though so
cool, agues prevail after the rains. The extremes of temperature are
less marked than in the valley, which becomes excessively heated, and
where hot winds sometimes last for a week, blowing in furious gusts.
The climate of the whole neighbourhood has of late changed materially;
and the fall of rain has much diminished, consequent on felling the
forests; even within six years the hail-storms have been far less
frequent and violent. The air on the hills is highly electrical, owing,
no doubt, to the dryness of the atmosphere, and to this the frequent
recurrence of hail-storms may be due.
The zoology of these regions is tolerably copious, but little is known
of the natural history of a great part of the plateau; a native tribe,
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 or seven kinds. A small
alligator inhabits the hill streams, said to be a 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 the fluting of the
_Sigillaria_ stems, in the coal-measures, and occurring as they did
here, in sandstone, a little above great beds of limestone, had been
taken for such, and as indications of coal.
On the following day we visited Rajghat, a steep ghat or pass leading
up the cliff to Rotas Palace, a little higher up the river. We took the
elephants to the mouth of the glen, where we dismounted, and whence we
followed a stream abounding in small fish and aquatic insects
(_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 observed _Murraya exotica,_ but it
was scarce. Though the jungle was so dense, the woods were very dry,
containing no Palm, _Adroideæ,_ Peppers, _Orchideæ_ or Ferns. Here, at
the foot of the red cliffs, which towered imposingly above, as seen
through the tree tops, are several small seams of coaly matter in the
sandstone, with abundance of pyrites, sulphur, and copious
efflorescences of salts of iron; but no coal. The springs from the
cliffs above are charged with lime, 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 not help contrasting this circumstance with the
fact that geologists, unskilled in botany, see no difficulty in
referring equally imperfect remains of extinct vegetables to existing
genera. In some parts of their 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, the
other 5 feet 6 inches; both invariably indicated 76°, the air varying
from 56° to 79·5°. Dew had formed every night since leaving Dunwah, the
grass being here cooled 12° below the air.
On the 19th of February we marched up the Soane to Tura, passing some
low hills of limestone, between the cliffs of the Kymore and the river.
On the shaded riverbanks grew abundance of English genera—_Cynoglossum,
Veronica, Potentilla, Ranunculus sceleratus, Rumex,_ several herbaceous
_Compositæ_ and _Labiatæ_; _Tamarix_ formed a small bush in rocky
hillocks in the bed of the river, and in pools were several aquatic
plants, _Zannichellia, Chara,_ a pretty little _Vallisneria,_ and
_Potamogeton._ The Brahminee goose was common here, and we usually saw
in the morning immense flocks of wild geese overhead, migrating
northward.
Here I tried again the effect of solar and nocturnal radiation on the
sand, at different depths, not being able to do so on the alluvium.
Noon,
Temperature
of air, 87° Daylight of
following
morning Surface 110° 52° 1 inch 102° 55° 2
inches 93·5° 58° 4 inches 84° 67° 8 inches 77° sand
wet 73° wet 12 inches 76° sand wet 74°
From Tura our little army again crossed the Soane, the scarped cliffs
of 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 beast disregarded
this, when the word of command was given by his driver.
The stream was very narrow, but deep and rapid, obstructed with beds of
coarse agate, jasper, cornelian and chalcedony pebbles. A clumsy boat
took us across to the village of Soanepore, a wretched collection of
hovels. The crops were thin and poor, and I saw no palms or good trees.
Squirrels however abounded, and were busy laying up their stores;
descending from the trees they scoured across a road to a field of
tares, mounted the hedge, took an observation, foraged and returned up
the tree with their booty, quickly descended, and repeated the
operation of reconnoitering and plundering.
The bed of the river is here considerably above that at Dearee, where
the mean of the observations with those of Baroon, made it about 300
feet. 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 literally
crammed full of long-legged spiders (_Opilio_), which could be raked
out with a stick, when they came pouring down the cliff like corn from
a sack; the quantities are quite inconceivable. I did not observe the
martin feed on them.
The entomology here resembled that of Europe, more than I had expected
in a tropical country, where predaceous beetles, at least _Carabideæ_
and _Staphylinideæ,_ are generally considered rare. The latter tribes
swarmed under the clods, of many species but all small, and so
singularly active that I could not give the time to collect many. In
the banks again, the round egg-like earthy chrysalis of the _Sphynx
Atropos_ (?) and the many-celled nidus of the leaf-cutter bee, were
very common.
A large columnar _Euphorbia_ (_E. ligulata_) is common all along the
Soane, and I observed it to be used everywhere for fencing. I had not
remarked the _E. neriifolia_; and the _E. tereticaulis_ had been very
rarely seen since leaving Calcutta. The _Cactus_ is nowhere found; it
is 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 of
the vegetation and lateness of the season made me regret this the
less, for I was disappointed in my anticipations of finding
luxuriance and novelty in these wilds. Before us the valley narrowed
considerably, the forest became denser, the country on the south side
was broken with rounded hills, and on the north the noble cliffs of
the Kymore dipped down to the river. The villages were smaller, more
scattered and poverty-stricken, with the Mahowa and Mango as the
usual trees; the banyan, peepul, and tamarind being rare. The native,
are of an aboriginal jungle race; and are tall, athletic, erect, much
less indolent and more spirited than the listless natives of the
plains.
_February 21._—Started at daylight: but so slow and difficult was our
progress through fields and woods, and across deep gorges from the
hills, that we only advanced five miles in the day; the elephant’s head
too was aching too badly to let him push, and the cattle would not
proceed when the draught was not equal. What was worse, it was
impossible to get them to pull together up the inclined planes we cut,
except by placing a man at the head of each of the six, eight, or ten
in a team, and simultaneously screwing round their tails; when one
tortured animal sometimes capsizes the vehicle. The small carts got on
better, though it was most nervous to see them rushing down the steeps,
especially those with our fragile instruments, etc.
Kosdera, where we halted, is a pretty place, elevated 440 feet, with a
broad stream front the hills flowing past it. These hills are of
limestone, and rounded, resting upon others of hornstone and jasper.
Following up the stream I came to some rapids, where the stream is
crossed by large beds of hornstone and porphyry rocks, excessively
hard, and pitched up at right angles, or with a bold dip to the north.
The number of strata was very great, and only a few inches or even
lines thick: they presented all varieties of jasper, hornstone, and
quartz of numerous colours, with occasional seams of porphyry or
breccia. The racks were elegantly fringed with a fern I had not
hitherto seen, _Polypodium proliferum,_ which is the only species the
Soane valley presents at this season.
Returning over the hills, I found _Hardwickia binata,_ a most elegant
leguminous tree, tall, erect, with an elongated coma, and the branches
pendulous. These trees grew in a shallow bed of alluvium, enclosing
abundance of agate pebbles and kunker, the former derived from the
quartzy strata above noticed.
On the 23rd and 24th we continued to follow up the Soane, first to
Panchadurma (alt. 490 feet), and thence to Pepura (alt. 587 feet), the
country becoming densely wooded, very wild, and picturesque, the woods
being full of monkeys, parrots, peacocks, hornbills, and wild animals.
_Strychnos potatorum,_ whose berries are used to purify water, forms a
dense foliaged tree, 30 to 60 feet high, some individuals pale yellow,
others deep green, both in apparent health. _Feronia Elephantum_ and
_Ægle marmelos_[21] were very abundant, with _Sterculia,_ and the dwarf
date-palm.
[21] The Bhel fruit, lately introduced into English medical practice,
as an astringent of great effect, in cases of diarrhœa and dysentery.
One of my carts was here hopelessly broken down; advancing on the
spokes instead of the tire of the wheels. By the banks of a deep gully
here the rocks are well exposed: they consist of soft clay shales
resting on the limestone, which is nearly horizontal; and this again,
unconformably on the quartz and hornstone rocks, which are confused,
and tilted up at all angles.
A spur of the Kymore, like that of Rotas, here projects to the bed of
the river, and was blazing at night with the beacon-like fires of the
natives, lighted to scare the tigers and bears from the spots where
they cut wood and bamboo; they afforded a splendid spectacle, the
flames in some places leaping zig-zag from hill to hill in front of us,
and looking as if a gigantic letter W were written in fire.
The night was bright and clear, with much lightning, the latter
attracted to the spur, and darting down as it were to mingle its fire
with that of the forest; so many flashes appeared to strike on the
flames, that it is probable the heated air in their neighbourhood
attracted them. We were awakened between 3 and 4 a.m., by a violent
dust-storm, which threatened to carry away the tents. Our position at
the mouth of the gulley formed by the opposite hills, no doubt
accounted for it. The gusts were so furious that it was impossible to
observe the barometer, which I returned to its case on ascertaining
that any indications of a rise or fall in the column must have been
quite trifling. The night had been oppressively hot, with many insects
flying about; amongst which I noticed earwigs, a genus erroneously
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 over the
projecting beds of flinty rocks, or as they burned down the inclined
planes we cut through the precipitous clay banks of the streams. Near
Chanchee we passed an alligator, just killed by two men, a foul beast,
about nine feet long, of the mugger kind. More absorbing than its
natural history was the circumstance of its having swallowed a child,
that was playing in the water as its mother was 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 in agony, unable to withdraw her eyes
from the cursed reptile, which still clung to life with that tenacity
for which its tribe are so conspicuous; beside these the two athletes
leaned on the bloody bamboo 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 to
bring wood from the hills, and a very few household chattels; and how
few of these they only know who have seen the meagre furniture of Danga
hovels. Her husband cut the trees in the forest and dragged them to the
hut, but at this time he was sick, and her only boy, her future stay,
it was, whom the beast had devoured.
This province is famous for the quantity of catechu its dry forests
yield. The plant (_Acacia_) is a little thorny tree, erect, and bearing
a rounded head of well remembered prickly branches. Its wood is yellow,
with a dark brick-red heart, most profitable in January and useless in
June (for yielding the extract).
The _Butea frondosa_ was abundantly in flower here, and a gorgeous
sight. In mass the inflorescence resembles sheets of flame, and
individually the flowers are eminently beautiful, the bright orange-red
petals contrasting brilliantly against the jet-black velvety calyx. The
nest of the _Megachile_ (leaf-cutter bee) was in thousands in the
cliffs, with Mayflies, Caddis-worms, spiders, and many predaceous
beetles. Lamellicorn beetles were very rare, even _Aphodius,_ and of
_Cetoniæ_ I did not see one.
[Illustration: Soane Valley and Kymore Hills. <i>Cochlospermum
gossypium</i> and <i>Butea frondosa</i> in flower.]
We marched on the 28th to Kota, at the junction of the river of that
name with the Soane, over hills of flinty rock, which projected
everywhere, to the utter ruin of the elephants’ feet, and then over
undulating hills of limestone; on the latter I found trees of
_Cochlospermum,_ whose curious thick branches spread out somewhat
awkwardly, each tipped with a cluster of golden yellow flowers, as
large as the palm of the hand, and very beautiful: it is a tropical
Gum-Cistus in the appearance and texture of the petals, and their frail
nature. The bark abounds in a transparent gum, of which the white ants
seem fond, for they had killed many trees. Of the leaves the curious
rude leaf-bellows are made, with which the natives of these hills smelt
iron. Scorpions appeared very common here, of a small kind, 1.5 inch
long; several were captured, and one of our party was stung on the
finger; the smart was burning for an hour or two, and then ceased.
At Kota we were nearly opposite the cliffs at Beejaghur, where coal is
reported to exist; and here we again crossed the Soane, and for the
last time. The ford is three miles up the river, and we marched to it
through deep sand. The bed of the river is here 500 feet above the sea,
and about three-quarters of a mile broad, the rapid stream being 50 or
60 yards wide, and breast deep. The sand is firm and siliceous, with no
mica; nodules of coal are said to be washed down thus far from the
coal-beds of Burdee, a good deal higher up, but we saw none.
The cliffs come close to the river on the opposite side, their bases
clothed with woods which teemed with birds. The soil is richer, and
individual trees, especially of _Bombax, Terminalia_ and _Mahowa,_ very
fine; one tree of the _Hardwickia,_ about 120 feet high, was as
handsome a monarch of the forest as I ever saw, and it is not often
that one sees trees in the tropics, which for a combination of beauty
in outline, harmony of colour, and arrangement of branches and foliage,
would form so striking an addition to an English park.
There is a large break in the Kymore hills here, beyond the village of
Kunch, through which our route lay to Beejaghur, and the Ganges at
Mirzapore; the cliff’s leaving the river and trending to the north in a
continuous escarpment flanked with low ranges of rounded hills, and
terminating in an abrupt spur (Mungeesa Peak) whose summit was covered
with a ragged forest. At Kunch we saw four alligators sleeping in the
river, looking at a distance like logs of wood, all of the short-nosed
or mugger kind, dreaded by man and beast; I saw none of the
sharp-shouted (or garial), so common on the Ganges, where their long
bills, with a garniture of teeth and prominent eyes peeping out of the
water, remind one of geological lectures and visions 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 rough
hilly country, covered with forest, fully 1000 feet below the top of
the Kymore table-land, which here recedes from the river and surrounds
an undulating plain, some ten miles either way, facing the south. The
roads, or rather pathways, were very bad, and quite impassable for the
carts without much engineering, cutting through forest, smoothing down
the banks of the watercourses to be crossed, and clearing away the
rocks as we best might. We traversed the empty bed of a mountain
torrent, with perpendicular banks of alluvium 30 feet high, and thence
plunged into a dense forest. Our course was directed towards Mungeesa
Peak, the remarkable projecting spur, between which and a conical hill
the path led. Whether on the elephants or on foot, the thorny jujubes,
_Acacias,_ etc. were most troublesome, and all our previous scratchings
were nothing to this. Peacocks and jungle-fowl were very frequent, the
squabbling of the former and the hooting of the monkeys constantly
grating on the ear. There were innumerable pigeons and a few Floricans
(a kind of bustard—considered the best eating game-bird in India). From
the defile we emerged on an open flat, halting at Sulkun, a scattered
village (alt. 684 feet), peopled by a bold-looking race (Coles)[22] who
habitually carry the spear and shield. We had here the pleasure of
meeting Mr. Felle, an English gentleman employed in the Revenue
department; this being one of the roads along which the natives
transport their salt, sugar, etc., from one province to another.
[22] The Coles, like the Danghas of the Rajmahal and Behar hills, and
the natives of the mountains of the peninsula, form one of the
aboriginal tribes of British India, and are widely different people
from either the Hindoos or Mussulmen.
In the afternoon, I examined the conical hill, which, like that near
Rotas, is of stratified beds of limestone, capped with sandstone. A
stream runs round its base, cutting through the alluvium to the
subjacent rock, which is exposed, and contains flattened spheres of
limestone. These spheres are from the size of a fist to a child’s head,
or even much larger; they are excessively hard, and neither laminated
nor formed of concentric layers. At the top of the hill the sandstone
cap was perpendicular on all sides, and its dry top covered with small
trees, especially of _Cochlospermum._ A few larger trees of _Fici_
clung to the edge of the rocks, and by forcing their roots into the
interstices detached enormous masses, affording good dens for bears and
other wild animals. From the top, the view of rock, river, forest, and
plain, was very fine, the eye ranging over a broad flat, girt by
precipitous hills;—West, the Kymore or Vindhya range rose again in
rugged elevations; South, flowed the Soane, backed by ranges of wooded
hills, smoking like volcanos with the fires of the natives;—below, lay
the bed of the stream we had left at the foot of the hills, cutting its
way through the alluvium, and following a deep gorge to the Soane,
which was there hidden by the rugged heights we had crossed, on which
the greater part of our camp might be seen still straggling
onwards;—east, and close above us, the bold spur of Mungeesa shot up,
terminating a continuous stretch of red precipices, clothed with forest
along their bases, and over their horizontal tops.
From Sulkun the view of the famed fort and palace of Beejaghur is very
singular, planted on the summit of an isolated hill of sandstone, about
ten miles off. A large tree by the palace marks its site; for, at this
distance, the buildings are themselves undistinguishable.
There are many tigers on these hills; and as one was close by, and had
killed several cattle, Mr. Felle kindly offered us a chance of slaying
him. Bullocks are tethered out, over-night, in the places likely to be
visited by the brute; he kills one of them, and is from the spot
tracked to his haunt by natives, who visit the stations early in the
morning, and report the whereabouts of his lair. The sportsman then
goes to the attack mounted on an elephant, or having a _roost_ fixed in
a tree, on the trail of the tiger, and he employs some hundred natives
to drive the animal past the lurking-place.
On the present occasion, the locale of the tiger was doubtful; but it
was thought that by beating over several miles of country he (or at any
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 and myself occupied one
of these perches in a _Hardwickia_ tree, and Mr. Felle another, close
by, both on the slope of a steep hill, surrounded by jungly valleys. We
were also well thatched in with leafy boughs, to prevent the wary beast
from espying the ambush, and had a whole stand of shall arms ready for
his reception.
When roosted aloft, and duly charged to keep profound silence (which I
obeyed to the letter, by falling sound asleep), the word was passed to
the beaters, who surrounded our post on the plain-side, extending some
miles in line, and full two or three distant from us. They entered the
jungle, beating tom-toms, singing and shouting as they advanced, and
converging towards our position. In the noonday solitude of these vast
forests, our situation was romantic enough: there was not a breath of
wind, an insect or bird stirring; and the wild cries of the men, and
the hollow sound of the drums broke upon the ear from a great distance,
gradually swelling and falling, as the natives ascended the heights or
crossed the valleys. After about an hour and a half, the beaters
emerged from the jungle under our retreat; one by one, two by two, but
preceded by no single living thing, either mouse, bird, deer, or bear,
and much less tiger. The beaters received about a penny a-piece for the
day’s work; a rich guerdon for these poor wretches, whom necessity
sometimes drives to feed on rats and offal.
We were detained three days at Sulkun, from inability to get on with
the carts; and as the pass over the Kymore to the north (on the way to
Mirzapore) was to be still worse, I took advantage of Mr. Felle’s kind
offer of camels and elephants to make the best of my way forward,
accompanying that gentleman, _en route,_ to his residence at Shahgunj,
on the table-land.
Both the climate and natural history of this flat on which Sulkun
stands, are similar to those of the banks of the Soane; the crops are
wretched. 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, was
always highly electrical, and the dew-point was frequently 40° below
the temperature of the air.
The natives are far from honest: they robbed one of the tents placed
between two others, wherein a light was burning. One gentleman in it
was awake, and on turning saw five men at his bedside, who escaped with
a bag of booty, in the shape of clothes, and a tempting strong
brass-bound box, containing private letters. The clothes they dropped
outside, but the box of letters was carried off. There were about a
hundred people asleep outside the tents, between whose many fires the
rogues must have passed, eluding also the guard, who were, or ought to
have been, awake.