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 the
Lamas of Dholing, and from a large posse of women belonging to the
village of Barphiung, close by, we ascended the Raklang pass, which
crosses the range dividing the waters of the Teesta from those of the
Great Rungeet. The Kajee still kept beside me, and proved a lively
companion: seeing me continually plucking and noting plants, he gave me
much local information about them. He told me the uses made of the
fibres of the various nettles; some being twisted for bowstrings,
others as a thread for sewing and weaving; while many are eaten raw and
in soups, especially the numerous little succulent species. The great
yellow-flowered _Begonia_ was abundant, and he cut its juicy stalks to
make sauce (as we do apple-sauce) for some pork which he expected to
get at Bhomsong; the taste is acid and very pleasant. The large
succulent fern, called _Botrychium,_[94] grew here plentifully; it is
boiled and eaten, both here and in New Zealand. Ferns are more commonly
used for food than is supposed. In Calcutta the Hindoos boil young tops
of a _Polypodium_ with their shrimp curries; and both in Sikkim and
Nepal the watery tubers of an _Aspidium_ are abundantly eaten. So also
the pulp of one tree-fern affords food, but only in times of scarcity,
as does that of another species in New Zealand (_Cyathea medullaris_):
the pith of all is composed of a coarse sago, that is to say, of
cellular tissue with starch granules.
[94] _Botrychium Virginicum,_ Linn. This fern is eaten abundantly by
the New Zealanders: its distribution is most remarkable, being found
very rarely indeed in Europe, and in Norway only. It abounds in many
parts of the Southern United States, the Andes of Mexico, etc., in the
Himalaya mountains, Australia, and New Zealand.
A thick forest of Dorjiling vegetation covers the summit, which is only
6,800 feet above the sea: it is a saddle, connecting the lofty mountain
of Mainom (alt. 11,000 feet) to the north, with Tendong (alt. 8,663
feet) to the south. Both these mountains are on a range which is
continuous with Kinchinjunga, projecting from it down into the very
heart of Sikkim. A considerable stand was made here by the Lepchas
during the Nepal war in 1787; they defended the pass with their arrows
for some hours, and then retired towards the Teesta, making a second
stand lower down, at a place pointed out to me, where rocks 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 the
Teesta valley, and the mountains of Chola to the eastward; which I much
regretted.
Descending by a very steep, slippery path, we came to a fine mass of
slaty gneiss, thirty feet long and thirteen feet high; not _in situ,_
but lying on the mountain side: on its sloping face was carved in
enormous characters, “Om Mani Padmi om”; of which letters the
top-strokes afford an uncertain footing to the enthusiast who is
willing to purchase a good metempsychosis by walking along the slope,
with his heels or toes in their cavities. A small inscription in one
corner is said to imply that this was the work of a pious monk of
Raklang; and the stone is called “Do-mani,” literally, “stone of
prayer.”
[Illustration: Do-mani stone]
The rocks and peaks of Mainom are said to overhang the descent here
with grandeur; but the continued rain hid everything but a curious
shivered peak, apparently of chlorite schist, which was close by, and
reflected a green colour it is of course reported to be of turquoise,
and inaccessible. Descending, the rocks became more micaceous, with
broad seams of pipe-clay, originating in decomposed beds of felspathic
gneiss: the natives used this to whitewash and mortar their temples.
I passed the monastery of Neongong, the monks of which were building a
new temple; and came to bring me a large present. Below it is a pretty
little lake, about 100 yards across, fringed with brushwood. We camped
at the village of Nampok, 4,370 feet above the sea; all thoroughly
sodden with rain.
During the night much snow had fallen at and above 9000 feet, but the
weather cleared on the following morning, and disclosed the top of
Mainom, rising close above my camp, in a series of rugged shivered
peaks, crested with pines, which looked like statues of snow: to all
other quarters this mountain presents a very gently sloping outline. Up
the Teesta valley there was a pretty peep of snowy mountains, bearing
north 35° east, of no great height.
I was met by a messenger from Dr. Campbell who told me he was waiting
breakfast; so I left my party, and, accompanied by the Kajee and Meepo,
hurried down to the valley of the Rungoon (which flows east to the
Teesta), through a fine forest of tropical trees; passing the villages
of Broom[95] and Lingo, to the spur of that name; where I was met by a
servant of the Sikkim Dewan’s, with a pony for my use. I stared at the
animal, and felt inclined to ask what he had to do here, where it was
difficult enough to walk up and down slippery slopes, amongst boulders
of rock, heavy forest, and foaming torrents; but I was little aware of
what these beasts could accomplish. The Tartar saddle was imported from
Tibet, and certainly a curiosity; once—but a long time ago—it must have
been very handsome; it was high-peaked, covered with shagreen and
silvered ornaments, wretchedly girthed, and with great stirrups
attached to short leathers. The bridle and head-gear were much too
complicated for description; there were good leather, raw hide,
hair-rope, and scarlet worsted all brought into use; the bit was the
ordinary Asiatic one, jointed, and with two rings. I mounted on one
side, and at once rolled over, saddle and all, to the other; the pony
standing quite still. I preferred walking; but Dr. Campbell had begged
of me to use the pony, as the Dewan had procured and sent it at great
trouble: I, however, had it led till I was close to Bhomsong, when I
was hoisted into the saddle and balanced on it, with my toes in the
stirrups and my knees up to my breast; twice, on the steep descent to
the river, my saddle and I were thrown on the pony’s neck; in these
awkward emergencies I was assisted by a man on each side, who supported
my weight on my elbows: they seemed well accustomed to easing mounted
ponies down hill without giving the rider the trouble of dismounting.
Thus I entered Dr. Campbell’s camp at Bhomsong, to the pride and
delight of my attendants; and received a hearty welcome from my old
friend, who covered me with congratulations on the successful issue of
a journey which, at this season, and under such difficulties and
discouragements, he had hardly thought feasible.
[95] On the top of the ridge above Broom, a tall stone is erected by
the side of the path, covered with private marks, indicating the
height of various individuals who are accustomed to measure themselves
thus; there was but one mark above 5 feet 7 inches, 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 the natives of Sikkim by a
long way.
Dr. Campbell’s tent was pitched in an orange-grove, occupying a flat on
the west bank of the Teesta, close to a small enclosure of pine-apples,
with a pomegranate tree in the middle. The valley is very narrow, and
the vegetation wholly tropical, consisting of two species of oak,
several palms, rattan-cane (screw-pine), _Pandanus,_ tall grasses, and
all the natives of dense hot jungles. The river is a grand feature,
broad, rocky, deep, swift, and broken by enormous boulders of rock; its
waters were of a pale opal green, probably from the materials of the
soft micaceous rocks through which it flows.
A cane bridge crosses it,[96] but had been cut away (in feigned
distrust of us), and the long canes were streaming from their
attachments on either shore down the stream, and a triangular raft of
bamboo was plying instead, drawn to and fro by means of a strong cane.
[96] Whence the name of Bhomsong Samdong, the latter word meaning
bridge.
Soon after arriving I received a present from the Rajah, consisting of
a brick of Tibet tea, eighty pounds of rancid yak butter, in large
squares, done up in yak-hair cloth, three loads of rice, and one of
Murwa for beer; rolls of bread,[97] fowls, eggs, dried plums, apricots,
jujubes, currants, and Sultana raisins, the latter fruits purchased at
Lhassa, but imported thither from western Tibet; also some trays of
coarse milk-white crystallised salt, as dug in Tibet.
[97] These rolls, or rather, sticks of bread, are made in Tibet, of
fine wheaten flour, and keep for a long time: they are sweet and good,
but very dirtily prepared.
In the evening we were visited by the Dewan, the head and front of all
our Sikkim difficulties, whose influence was paramount with the Rajah,
owing to the age and infirmities of the latter, and his devotion to
religion, which absorbed all his time and thoughts. The Dewan was a
good-looking Tibetan, very robust, fair, muscular and well fleshed; he
had a very broad Tartar face, quite free of hair; a small and
beautifully formed mouth and chin, very broad cheekbones, and a low,
contracted forehead: his manners were courteous and polite, but
evidently affected, in assumption of better breeding than he could in
reality lay claim to. The Rajah himself was a Tibetan of just
respectable extraction, a native of the Sokpo province, north of
Lhassa: his Dewan was related to one of his wives, and I believe a
Lhassan by birth as well as extraction, having probably also Kashmir
blood in him.[98] Though minister, he was neither financier nor
politician, but a mere plunderer of Sikkim, introducing his relations,
and those whom he calls so, into the best estates in the country, and
trading in great and small wares, from a Tibet pony to a tobacco pipe,
wholesale and retail. Neither he nor the Rajah are considered worthy of
notice by the best Tibet families or priests, or by the Chinese
commissioners settled in Lhassa and Jigatzi. The latter regard Sikkim
as virtually English, and are contented with knowing that its ruler has
no army, and with believing that its protectors, the English, could not
march an army across the Himalaya if they would.
[98] The Tibetans court promiscuous intercourse between their families
and the Kashmir merchants who traverse their country.
The Dewan, trading in wares which we could supply better and cheaper,
naturally regarded us with repugnance, and did everything in his power
to thwart Dr. Campbell’s attempts to open a friendly communication
between the Sikkim and English governments. The Rajah owed everything
to us, and was, I believe, really grateful; but he was a mere cipher in
the hands of his minister. The priests again, while rejoicing in our
proximity, were apathetic, and dreaded the more active Dewan; and the
people had long given evidence of their confidence in the English.
Under these circumstances it was in the hope of gaining the Rajah’s own
ear, and representing to him the advantages of promoting an intercourse
with us, and the danger of continuing to violate the terms of our
treaty, that Dr. Campbell had been authorised by government to seek an
interview with His Highness. At present our relations were singularly
infelicitous. There was no agent on the Sikkim Rajah’s part to conduct
business at Dorjiling, and the Dewan insisted on sending a creature of
his own, who had before been dismissed for insolence. Malefactors who
escaped into Sikkim were protected, and our police interrupted in the
discharge of their duties; slavery was practised; and government
communications were detained for weeks and months under false
pretences.
In his interviews with us the Dewan appeared to advantage: he was fond
of horses and shooting, and prided himself on his hospitality. We
gained much information from many conversations with him, during which
politics were never touched upon. Our queries naturally referred to
Tibet and its geography, especially its great feature the Yarou Tsampoo
river; this he assured us was the Burrampooter of Assam, and that no
one doubted it in that country. Lhassa he described as a city in the
bottom of a flat-floored valley, surrounded by lofty snowy mountains:
neither grapes, tea, silk, or cotton are produced near it, but in the
Tartchi province of Tibet, one month’s journey east of Lhassa, rice,
and a coarse kind of tea are both grown. Two months’ journey north-east
of Lhassa is Siling, the well-known great commercial entrepôt[99] in
west China; and there coarse silk is produced. All Tibet he described
as mountainous, and an inconceivably poor country: there are no plains,
save flats in the bottoms of the valleys, and the paths lead over lofty
mountains. Sometimes, when the inhabitants are obliged from famine to
change their habitations in winter, the old and feeble are frozen to
death, standing and resting their chins on their staves; remaining as
pillars of ice, to fall only when the thaw of the ensuing spring
commences.
[99] The entrepôt is now removed to Tang-Keou-Eul.—See Huc and Gabet.
We remained several days at Bhomsong, awaiting an interview with the
Rajah, whose movements the Dewan kept shrouded in mystery. On Dr.
Campbell’s arrival at this river a week before, he found messengers
waiting to inform him that the Rajah would meet him here; this being
half way between Dorjiling and Tumloong. Thenceforward every subterfuge
was resorted to by the Dewan to frustrate the meeting; and even after
the arrival of the Rajah on the east bank, the Dewan communicated with
Dr. Campbell by shooting across the river arrows to which were attached
letters, containing every possible argument to induce him to return to
Dorjiling; such as that the Rajah was sick at Tumloong, that he was
gone to Tibet, that he had a religious fast and rites to perform, etc.
etc.
One day we walked up the Teesta to the Rumphiup river, a torrent from
Mainom mountain to the west; the path led amongst thick jungle of
_Wallichia_ palm, prickly rattan canes, and the _Pandanus,_ or
screw-pine, called “Borr,” which has a straight, often forked,
palm-like trunk, and an immense crown of grassy saw-edged leaves four
feet long: it bears clusters of uneatable fruit as large as a man’s
fist, and their similarity to the pine-apple has suggested the name of
“Borr” for the latter fruit also, which has for many years been
cultivated in Sikkim, and yields indifferent produce. Beautiful pink
balsams covered the ground, but at this season few other showy plants
were in flower: the rocks were chlorite, very soft and silvery, and so
curiously crumpled and contorted as to appear as though formed of
scaled of mica crushed together, and confusedly arranged in layers: the
strike was north-west, and dip north-east from 60° to 70°.
Messengers from the Dewan overtook us at the river to announce that the
Rajah was prepared and waiting to give us a reception; so we returned,
and I borrowed a coat from Dr. Campbell instead of my tattered
shooting-jacket; and we crossed the river on the bamboo-raft. As it is
the custom on these occasions to exchange presents, I was officially
supplied with some red cloth and beads: these, as well as Dr.
Campbell’s present, should only have been delivered during or after the
audience; but our wily friend the Dewan here played us a very shabby
trick; for he managed that our presents should be stealthily brought in
before our appearance, thus giving to the by-standers the impression of
our being tributaries to his Highness!
The audience chamber was a mere roofed shed of neat bamboo wattle,
about twenty feet long: two Bhoteeas in scarlet jackets, and with bows
in their hands, stood on each side of the door, and our own chairs were
carried before us for our accommodation. Within was a square wicker
throne, six feet high, covered with purple silk, brocaded with dragons
in white and gold, and overhung by a canopy of tattered blue silk, with
which material part of the walls also was covered. An oblong box
(containing papers) with gilded dragons on it, was placed on the stage
or throne, and behind it was perched cross-legged, an odd, black,
insignificant looking old man, with twinkling upturned eyes: he was
swathed in yellow silk, and wore on his head a pink silk hat with a
flat broad crown, from all sides of which hung floss silk. This was the
Rajah, a genuine Tibetan, about seventy years old. On some steps close
by, and ranged down the apartment, were his relations, all in brocaded
silk robes reaching from the throat to the ground, and girded about the
waist; and wearing caps similar to that of the Rajah. Kajees,
counsellors, and shaven mitred Lamas were there, to the number of
twenty, all planted with their backs to the wall, mute and motionless
as statues. A few spectators were huddled together at the lower end of
the room, and a monk waved about an incense pot containing burning
juniper and other odoriferous 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 were then
placed, and we seated ourselves, when the Dewan came in, clad in a
superb purple silk robe, worked with circular gold figures, and
formally presented us. The Dewan then stood; and as the Rajah did not
understand Hindoostanee, our conversation was carried on through the
medium of a little bare-headed rosy-cheeked Lama, named “Tchebu,” clad
in a scarlet gown, who acted as interpreter. The conversation was short
and constrained: Tchebu was known as a devoted servant of the Rajah and
of the heir apparent; and in common with all the Lamas he hates the
Dewan, and desires a friendly intercourse between Sikkim and Dorjiling.
He is, further, the only servant of the Rajah capable of conversing
both in Hindoo and Tibetan, and the uneasy distrustful look of the
Dewan, who understands the latter language only, was very evident. 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 our
shoulders, according to the established custom in Tibet, Sikkim, and
Bhotan; and presents were made to us of China silks, bricks of tea,
woollen cloths, yaks, ponies, and salt, with worked silk purses and
fans for Mrs. Campbell; after which we left. The whole scene was novel
and very curious. We had had no previous idea of the extreme poverty of
the Rajah, of his utter ignorance of the usages of Oriental life, and
of his not having anyone near to instruct him. The neglect of our
salutation, and the conversion of our presents into tribute, did not
arise from any ill-will: it was owing to the craft of the Dewan in
taking advantage of the Rajah’s ignorance of his own position and of
good manners. Miserably poor, without any retinue, taking no interest
in what passes in his own kingdom, subsisting on the plainest and
coarsest food, passing his time in effectually abstracting his mind
from the consideration of earthly things, and wrapt in contemplation,
the Sikkim Rajah has arrived at great sanctity, and is all but prepared
for that absorption into the essence of Boodh, which is the end and aim
of all good Boodhists. The mute conduct of his Court, who looked like
attendants at an inquisition, and the profound veneration expressed in
every word and gesture of those who did move and speak, recalled a
Pekin reception. His attendants treated him as a being of a very
different nature from themselves; and well might they do so, since they
believe that he will never die, but retire from the world only to
re-appear under some equally sainted form.
Though productive of no immediate good, our interview had a very
favourable effect on the Lamas and people, who had long wished it; and
the congratulations we received thereon during the remainder of our
stay in Sikkim were many and sincere. The Lamas we found universally in
high spirits; they having just effected the marriage of the heir
apparent, himself a Lama, said to possess much ability and prudence,
and hence being very obnoxious to the Dewan, who vehemently opposed the
marriage. As, however, the minister had established his influence over
the youngest, and estranged the Rajah from his eldest son, and was
moreover in a fair way for ruling Sikkim himself, the Church rose in a
body, procured a dispensation from Lhassa for the marriage of a priest,
and thus hoped to undermine the influence of the violent and greedy
stranger.
In the evening, we paid a farewell visit to the Dewan, whom we found in
a bamboo wicker-work hut, neatly hung with bows, arrows, and round
Lepcha shields of cane, each with a scarlet tuft of yak-hair in the
middle; there were also muskets, Tibetan arms, and much horse gear; and
at one end was a little altar, with cups, bells, pastiles, and images.
He was robed in a fawn-coloured silk gown, lined with the softest of
wool, that taken from unborn lambs: like most Tibetans, he extracts all
his beard with tweezers; an operation he civilly recommended to me,
accompanying the advice with the present of a neat pair of steel
forceps. He aspires to be considered a man of taste, and plays the
Tibetan guitar, on which he performed some airs for our amusement: the
instrument is round-bodied and long-armed, with six strings placed in
pairs, and probably comes from Kashmir: the Tibetan airs were simple
and quite pretty, with the time well marked.
During our stay at Bhomsong, the weather was cool, considering the low
elevation (1,500 feet), and very steady; the mean temperature was
52·25°, the maximum 71·25°, the minimum 42·75°. The sun set behind the
lofty mountains at 3 p.m., and in the morning a thick, wet, white,
dripping fog settled in the bottom of the valley, and extended to 800
or 1000 feet above the river-bed; this was probably caused by the
descent of cold currents into the humid gorge: it was dissipated soon
after sunrise, but formed again at sunset for a few minutes, giving
place to clear starlight nights.
A thermometer sunk two feet seven inches, stood at 64°. The temperature
of the water was pretty constant at 51°: from here to the plains of
India the river has a nearly uniform fall of 1000 feet in sixty-nine
miles, or sixteen feet to a mile: were its course straight for the same
distance, the fall would be 1000 feet in forty miles, or twenty-five
feet to a mile.
Dr. Campbell’s object being accomplished, he was anxious to make the
best use of the few days that remained before his return to Dorjiling,
and we therefore arranged to ascend Mainom, and visit the principal
convents in Sikkim together, after which he was to return south, whilst
I should proceed north to explore the south flank of Kinchinjunga. For
the first day our route was that by which I had arrived. 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 being profoundly ignorant of the
mysteries of war or drill. They were splendid specimens of Sikkim
Bhoteeas (i.e. Tibetans, born in Sikkim, sometimes called Arrhats),
tall, powerful, and well built, but insolent and bullying: the Dingpun
wore the Lepcha knife, ornamented with turquoises, together with
Chinese chopsticks. Near Bhomsong, Campbell pointed out a hot bath to
me, which he had seen employed: it consisted of a hollowed prostrate
tree trunk, the water in which was heated by throwing in hot stones
with bamboo tongs. The temperature is thus raised to 114°, to which the
patient submits at repeated intervals for several days, never leaving
till wholly exhausted. These baths are called “Sa-choo,” literally
“hot-water,” in Tibetan.
We stopped to measure some splendid trees in the valley, and found the
trunk of one to be forty-five feet round the buttresses, and thirty
feet above them, a large size for the Himalaya: they were a species 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 is about
400 yards round, and has no outlet. It contained two English plants,
the common duckweed (_Lemna minor_), and _Potamogeton natans_: some
coots were swimming in it, and having flushed a woodcock, 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 to
return 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 very gradual
for 4000 feet. We met with snow at the level of Dorjiling (7000 feet),
indicating a colder climate than at that station, where none had
fallen; the vegetation was, however, similar, but not so rich, and at
8000 feet trees common also to the top of Sinchul appeared, with _R.
Hodgsoni,_ and the beautiful little winter-flowering primrose, _P.
petiolaris,_ whose stemless flowers spread like broad purple stars on
the deep green foliage. Above, the path runs along the ridge of the
precipices facing the south-east, and here we caught a glimpse of the
great valley of the Ryott, beyond the 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 recovered
himself, but not our goods.
The rocks were all of chlorite slate, which is not usual at this
elevation; the strike was north-west, and dip north-east. At 9000 feet
various shrubby rhododendrons prevailed, with mountain-ash, birch, and
dwarf-bamboo; also _R. Falconeri,_ which grew from forty to fifty feet
high. The snow was deep and troublesome, so we encamped at 9,800 feet,
or 800 feet below the top, in a wood of _Pyrus, Magnolia,
Rhododendron,_ and bamboo. As the ground was deeply covered with 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 temperature
falling to 24°. On the following morning we scrambled through the 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, but the depth of the snow
prevented our exploring much, and the silver firs (_Abies Webbiana_)
were so tall, that no view could be obtained, except from the temple.
The great peak of Kinchinjunga is in part hidden by those of Pundim and
Nursing, but the panorama of snowy mountains is very grand indeed. The
effect is quite deceptive; the mountains assuming the appearance of a
continued chain, the distant snowy peaks being seemingly at little
further distance than the nearer ones. The whole range (about
twenty-two miles nearer than at Dorjiling) appeared to rise uniformly
and steeply out of black pine forests, which were succeeded by the
russet-brown of the rhododendron shrubs, and that again by tremendous
precipices and gulleys, into which descended mighty glaciers and
perpetual snows. This excessive steepness is however only apparent,
being due to foreshortening.
The upper 10,000 feet of Kinchin, and the tops of Pundim, Kubra, and
Junnoo, are evidently of granite, and are rounded in outline: the lower
peaks again, as those of Nursing, etc., present rugged pinnacles of
black and red stratified rocks, in many cases resting on white granite,
to which they present a remarkable contrast. The general appearance was
as if Kinchin and the whole mass of mountains clustered around it, had
been up-heaved by white granite, which still forms the loftiest
summits, and has raised the black stratified rocks in some places to
20,000 feet in numerous peaks and ridges. One range presented on every
summit a cap of black stratified rocks of uniform inclination and dip,
striking north-west, with precipitous faces to the south-west: this was
clear to the naked eye, and more evident with the telescope, the range
in question being only fifteen miles distant, running between Pundim
and Nursing. The fact of the granite forming the greatest elevation
must not be hastily attributed to that igneous rock having burst
through the stratified, and been protruded beyond the latter: it is
much more probable that the upheaval of the granite took place at a
vast depth, and beneath an enormous pressure of stratified rocks and
perhaps of the ocean; since which period the elevation of the whole
mountain chain, and the denudation of the stratified rocks, has been
slowly proceeding.
To what extent denudation has thus lowered the peaks we dare scarcely
form a conjecture; but considering the number and variety of the beds
which in some places overlie the gneiss and granite, we may reasonably
conclude that many thousand feet have been removed.
It is further assumable that the stratified rocks originally took the
forms of great domes, or arches. The prevailing north-west strike
throughout the Himalaya vaguely indicates a general primary arrangement
of the curves into waves, whose crests run north-west and south-cast;
an arrangement which no minor or posterior forces have wholly
disturbed, though they have produced endless dislocations, and
especially a want of uniformity in the amount and direction of the dip.
Whether the loftiest waves were the result of one great convulsion, or
of a long-continued succession of small ones, the effect would be the
same, namely, that the strata over those points at which the granite
penetrated the highest, would be the most dislocated, and the most
exposed to wear during denudation.
We enjoyed the view of this superb scenery till noon, when the clouds
which had obscured Dorjiling since morning were borne towards us by the
southerly wind, rapidly closing in the landscape on all sides. At
sunset they again broke, retreating from the northward, and rising from
Sinchul and Dorjiling last of all, whilst a line of vapour, thrown by
perspective into one narrow band, seemed to belt the Singalelah range
with a white girdle, darkened to black where it crossed the snowy
mountains; and it was difficult to believe that this belt did not
really hang upon the ranges from twenty to thirty miles off, against
which it was projected; or that its true position was 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 beautiful effects.
The zenith was a deep blue, darkening opposite the setting sun, and
paling over it into a peach colour, and that again near the horizon
passing into a glowing orange-red, crossed by coppery streaks of
cirrhus. Broad beams of pale light shot from the sun to the meridian,
crossing the moon and the planet Venus. Far south, through gaps in the
mountains, the position of the plains of India, 10,000 feet below us,
was indicated by a deep leaden haze, fading upwards in gradually paler
bands (of which I counted fifteen) to the clear yellow of the sunset
sky. As darkness came on, the mists collected around the top of Mainom,
accumulating on the windward side, and thrown off in ragged masses from
the opposite.
The second night we passed here was fine, and not very cold (the mean
temperature being 27° and we kept ourselves quite warm by pine-wood
fires. On the following morning the sun tinged the sky of a lurid
yellow-red: to the south-west, over the plains, the belts of leaden
vapour were fewer (twelve being distinguishable) and much lower than on
the previous evening, appearing as if depressed on the visible horizon.
Heavy masses of clouds nestled into all the valleys, and filled up the
larger ones, the mountain tops rising above them like islands.
The height of our position I calculated to be 10,613 feet. Colonel
Waugh had determined that of the summit by trigonometry to be 10,702
feet, which probably includes the trees which cover it, or some rocky
peaks on the broad and comparatively level surface.
The mean temperature of the twenty-four hours was 32·7° (max.
41·5°/min. 27·2°), mean dew-point 29·7, and saturation 0·82. The
mercury suddenly fell below the freezing point at sunset; and from
early morning the radiation was so powerful, that a thermometer exposed
on snow sank to 21·2°, and stood at 25·5°, at 10 a.m. The black bulb
thermometer rose to 132°, at 9 a.m. on the 27th, or 94·2° above the
temperature of the air 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 following morning (21·2°), we shall have a difference of 148·6°
Fahr., in contiguous spots; the one exposed to the full effects of the
sun, the other to that of radiation through a rarefied medium to a
cloudless sky. On the 28th the black bulb thermometer, freely suspended
over the snow and exposed to the sun, rose to 108°, or 78° above that
of the air in the shade (32°); the radiating surface of the same snow
in the shade being 21·2°, or 86·8° colder.
Having taken a complete set of angles and panoramic sketches from the
top of Mainom, with seventeen hourly observations, and collected much
information from our guides, we returned on the 28th to our tents
pitched by the temples at Neongong; descending 7000 feet, a very severe
shake along Lepcha paths. In the evening the Lamas visited us, with
presents of rice, fowls, eggs, etc., and begged subscriptions for their
temple which was then building, reminding Dr. Campbell that he and the
Governor-General had an ample share of their prayers, and benefited in
proportion. As for me, they said, I was bound to give alms, as I surely
needed praying for, seeing how I exposed myself; besides my having been
the first Englishman who had visited the snows of Kinchinjunga, the
holiest spot in Sikkim.
On the following morning we visited the unfinished temple. The outer
walls were of slabs of stone neatly chiselled, but badly mortared with
felspathic clay and pounded slate, instead of lime; the partition walls
were of clay, shaped in moulds of wood; parallel planks, four feet
asunder, being placed in the intended position of the walls, and left
open above, the composition was placed in these boxes, a little at a
time, and rammed down by the feet of many men, who walked round and
round the narrow enclosure, singing, and also using 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” of the Lepchas).
This being a festival day, when the natives were bringing offerings to
the altar, we also visited the old temple, a small wooden building.
Besides more substantial offerings, there were little cones of rice
with a round wafer of butter at the top, ranged on the altar in
order.[100] Six Lamas were at prayer, psalms, and contemplation,
sitting cross-legged on two small benches that ran down the building:
one was reading, with his hand and fore-finger elevated, whilst the
others listened; anon they all sang hymns, repeated sacred or silly
precepts to the bystanders, or joined in a chorus with boys, who struck
brass cymbals, and blew straight copper trumpets six feet long, and
conch-shells mounted with broad silver wings, elegantly carved with
dragons. There were besides manis, or praying-cylinders, drums, gongs,
books, and trumpets made of human thigh-bones, plain or mounted in
silver.
[100] The worshippers, on entering, walk straight up to the altar, and
before, or after, having deposited their gifts, they lift both hands
to the forehead, fall on their knees, and touch the ground three times
with both head and hands, raising the body a little between each
prostration. They then advance to the head Lama, kotow similarly to
him, and he blesses them, laying both hands on their heads and
repeating a short formula. Sometimes the dorje is used in blessing, as
the cross is in Europe, and when a mass of people request a
benediction, the Lama pronounces it from the door of the temple with
outstretched arms, the people all being prostrate, with their
foreheads touching the ground.
Throughout Sikkim, we were roused each morning at daybreak by this wild
music, the convents being so numerous that we were always within
hearing of it. To me it was always deeply impressive, sounding so
foreign, and awakening me so effectually to the strangeness of the wild
land in which I was wandering, and of the many new and striking objects
it contained. After sleep, too, during which the mind has either been
at rest, or carried away to more familiar subjects, the feelings of
loneliness and sometimes even of despondency, conjured up, by this
solemn music, were often almost oppressive.
Ascending from Neongong, we reached that pass from the Teesta to the
Great Rungeet, which I had crossed on the 22nd; and this time we had a
splendid view, down both the valleys, of the rivers, and the many spars
from the ridge communicating between Tendong and Mainom, with many
scattered villages and patches of cultivation. Near the top I found a
plant of “Praong,” (a small bamboo), in full seed; this sends up many
flowering branches from the root, and but few leaf-bearing ones; and
after maturing its seed, and giving off suckers from the root, the
parent plant dies. The fruit is a dark, long grain, like rice; it is
boiled and made into cakes, or into beer, like Murwa.
Looking west from the summit, no fewer than ten monastic establishments
with their temples, villages and cultivation, were at once visible, in
the valley of the Great Rungeet, and in those of its tributaries;
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 to 7000 feet, and commanding
splendid prospects.
We encamped at Lingcham, where I had halted on the 21st, and the
weather being fine, I took bearings of all the convents and mountains
around. There is much cultivation here, and many comparatively rich
villages, all occupying flat-shouldered spurs from Mainom. The houses
are large, and the yards are full of animals familiar to the eye but
not to the ear. The cows of Sikkim, though generally resembling the
English in stature, form, and colour, have humps, and grunt rather than
low; and the cocks wake the morning with a prolonged howling screech,
instead of the shrill crow of chanticleer.
Hence we descended north-west to the Great Rungeet, opposite Tassiding;
which is one of the oldest monastic establishments in Sikkim, and one
we were very anxious to visit. The descent lay through a forest of
tropical trees, where small palms, vines, peppers, _Pandanus,_ wild
plantain, and _Pothos,_ were interlaced in an impenetrable jungle, and
air-plants clothed the trees.
[Illustration: Implements used in Boodhist temples]