Arrangements for second journey into Sikkim—Opposition of Dewan—Lassoo
Kajee—Tendong—Legend of flood—Lama of Sillok-foke—Namtchi—Tchebu
Lama—Top of Tendong—Gigantic oak—Plants—Teesta valley—Commencement of
rains—Bhomsong—Ascent to Lathiang—View—Bad road—Orcbids—Gorh—Opposition
of Lama—Arrival of Meepo—Cross Teesta—Difficulties of
travelling—Lepchas swimming—Moxa for sprains—Singtam—Grandeur of view
of Kinchinjunga—Wild men—Singtam Soubah—Landslips—Bees’-nests and
honey-seekers—Leeches, etc.—Chakoong—Vegetation—Gravel
terraces—Unpleasant effects of wormwood—Choongtam, scenery and
vegetation of—Inhabitants—Tibetan salute—Lamas—Difficulty of procuring
food—Contrast of vegetation of inner and outer
Himalaya—Rhododendrons—Yew—_Abies Brunoniana_—Venomous snakes—Hornets
and other insects—Choongtam temple—Pictures of Lhassa—Minerals—Scenery.
After my return from the Terai, I was occupied during the month of
April in preparations for an expedition to the loftier parts of Sikkim.
The arrangements were the same as for my former journey, except with
regard to food, which it was necessary should be sent out to me at
intervals; for we had had ample proof that the resources of the country
were not equal to provisioning a party of from forty to fifty men, even
had the Dewan been favourable to my travelling, which was clearly not
the case.
Dr. Campbell communicated to the Rajah my intention of starting early
in May for the upper Teesta valley, and, in the Governor-General’s
name, requested that he would facilitate my visiting the frontier of
Sikkim, north-east of Kinchinjunga. The desired permission was, after a
little delay, received; which appeared to rouse the Dewan to institute
a series of obstructions to my progress, which caused so many delays
that my exploration of the country was not concluded till October, and
I was prevented returning to Dorjiling before the following Christmas.
Since our visit to the Rajah in December, no Vakeel (agent) had been
sent by the Durbar to Dorjiling, and consequently we could only
communicate indirectly with his Highness, while we found it impossible
to ascertain the truth of various reports promulgated by the Dewan, and
meant to deter me from entering the country. In April, the Lassoo Kajee
was sent as Vakeel, but, having on a previous occasion been dismissed
for insolence and incapacity, and again rejected when proposed by the
Dewan at Bhomsong, he was refused an audience; and he encamped at the
bottom of the Great Rungeet valley, where he lost some of his party
through fever. He retired into Sikkim, exasperated, pretending that he
had orders to delay my starting, in consequence of the death of the
heir apparent; and that he was prepared to use strong measures should I
cross the frontier.
No notice was taken of these threats: the Rajah was again informed of
my intended departure, unless his own orders to the contrary were
received through a proper accredited agent, and I left Dorjiling on the
3rd of May, accompanied by Dr. Campbell, who insisted on seeing me
fairly over the frontier at the Great Rungeet river.
Arrangements were made for supplies of rice following me by
instalments; our daily consumption being 80 lbs., a man’s load. After
crossing into Sikkim, I mustered my party at the Great Rungeet river. I
had forty-two in all, of whom the majority were young Lepchas, or
Sikkim-born people of Tibetan races: all were active and cheerful
looking follows; only one was goitred, and he had been a salt-trader. I
was accompanied by a guard of five Sepoys, and had a Lepcha and Tibetan
interpreter. I took but one personal servant, a Portuguese half-caste
(John Hoffman by name), who cooked for me: he was a native of Calcutta,
and though hardy, patient, and long-suffering, and far better-tempered,
was, in other respects, very inferior to Clamanze, who had been my
servant the previous year, and who, having been bred to the sea, was as
handy as he was clever; but who, like all other natives of the plains,
grew intolerably weary of the hills, and left me.
The first part of my route lay over Tendong, a very fine mountain,
which rises 8,613 feet, and is a conspicuous feature from Dorjiling,
where it is known as Mount Ararat. The Lepchas have a curious legend of
a man and woman having saved themselves on its summit, during a flood
that once deluged Sikkim. The coincidence of this story with the
English name of Ararat suggests the probability of the legend being
fabulous; but I am positively assured that it is not so, but that it
was current amongst the Lepchas before its English name was heard of,
and that the latter was suggested from the peculiar form of its summit
resembling that given in children’s books as the resting-place of the
ark.
The ascent from the Great Rungeet (alt. 818 feet) is through dry woods
of Sal and Pines (_P. longifolia_). I camped the first night at the
village of Mikk (alt. 3,900 feet), and on the following day ascended to
Namtc (alt. 5,600 feet).
On the route I was met by the Lama of Silokfoke Goompa. Though a
resident on the Lassoo Kajee’s estates, he politely brought me a
present, at the same time apologising for not waiting till I had
encamped, owing to his excessive fat, which prevented his climbing. I
accepted his excuses, though well aware that his real reason was that
he wished to pay his respects, and show his good feeling, in private.
Besides his ordinary canonicals, he carried a tall crozier-headed
staff, and had a curious horn slung round his neck, full of amulets; it
was short, of a transparent red colour, and beautifully carved, and was
that of the small cow of Lhassa, which resembles the English species,
and is not a yak (it is called “Tundro”).
Namtchi was once a place of considerable importance; and still
possesses a mendong, with six rows of inscribed slabs; a temple, and a
Lama attached thereto: the latter waited on me soon after I had
encamped, but he brought no present, and I was not long kept in
suspense as to his motives. These people are poor dissemblers; if they
intend to obstruct, they do it clumsily and hesitatingly: in this
instance the Lama first made up to my people, and, being coolly
received, kept gradually edging up to my tent-door, where, after an
awkward salute, he delivered himself with a very bad grace of his
mission, which was from the Lassoo Kajee to stop my progress. I told
him I knew nothing of the Lassoo Kajee or his orders, and should
proceed on the following morning: he then urged the bad state of the
roads, and advised me to wait two days till he should receive orders
from the Rajah; upon which I dismissed him.
Soon afterwards, as I sat at my tent-door, looking along the narrow
bushy ridge that winds up the mountain, I saw twenty or thirty men
rapidly descending the rocky path: they were Lepchas, with blue and
white striped garments, bows and quivers, and with their long knives
gleaming in the sun: they seemed to be following a figure in red Lama
costume, with a scarlet silk handkerchief wound round his head, its
ends streaming behind him. Though expecting this apparition to prove
the renowned Kajee and his myrmidons, coming to put a sudden
termination to my progress, I could not help admiring the exceeding
picturesqueness of the scenery and party. My fears were soon dissipated
by my men joyfully shouting, “The Tchebu Lama! the Tchebu Lama!” and I
soon recognised the rosy face and twinkling eyes of my friend of
Bhomsong, the only man of intelligence about the Rajah’s court, and the
one whose services as Vakeel were particularly wanted at Dorjiling.
He told me that the Lassoo Kajee had orders (from whom, he would not
say) to stop my progress, but that I should proceed nevertheless, and
that there was no objection to my doing so; and he despatched a
messenger to the Rajah, announcing my progress, and requesting him to
send me a guide, and to grant me every facility, asserting that he had
all along fully intended doing so.
On the following morning the Lama proceeded to Dorjiling, and I
continued the ascent of Tendong, sending my men round the shoulder to
Temi in the Teesta valley, where I proposed to pass the night. The road
rapidly ascends by a narrow winding path, covered with a loose forest
of oaks, rhododendrons, and various shrubs, not found at equal
elevations on the wetter Dorjiling ranges: amongst, them the beautiful
laburnum-like _Piptanthus Nepalensis,_ with golden blossoms, was
conspicuous. Enormous blocks of white and red stratified quartz, and
slate, some 20 and even 40 yards long, rest on the narrow ridge at 7000
feet elevation. The last ascent is up a steep rounded cone with a broad
flat top, covered with dwarf bamboo, a few oaks, laurels, magnolias,
and white-flowered rhododendron trees (_R. argenteum_), which
obstructed the view. I hung the barometers near one of the many chaits
on the summit, where there is also a rude temple, in which worship is
performed once a year. The elevation is 8,671 feet by my
observations.[134] The geological formation of Tendong in some measure
accounts for its peculiar form. On the conical summit are hard
quartzoze porphyries, which have apparently forced up the gneiss and
slates, which dip in all directions from the top, and are full of
injected veins of quartz. Below 7000 feet, mica-schist prevails, always
inclined at a very high angle; and I found jasper near Namtchi, with
other indications of Plutonic action.
[134] 8,663 by Col. Waugh’s trigonometrical observations.
The descent on the north side was steep, through a rank vegetation,
very different from that of the south face. The oaks are very grand,
and I measured one (whose trunk was decayed, and split into three,
however), which I found to be 49 feet in girth at 5 feet from the
ground. Near Temi (alt. 4,770 feet) I gathered the fruit of _Kadsura,_
a climbing plant allied to Magnolia, bearing round heads of large
fleshy red drupes, which are pleasantly acid and much eaten; the seeds
are very aromatic.
From Temi the road descends to the Teesta, the course of which it
afterwards follows. The valley was fearfully hot, and infested with
mosquitos and peepsas. Many fine plants grew in it:[135] I especially
noticed _Aristolochia saccata,_ which climbs the loftiest trees,
bearing its curious pitcher-shaped flowers near the ground only; its
leaves are said to be good food for cattle. _Houttuynia,_ a curious
herb allied to pepper, grew on the banks, which, from the profusion of
its white flowers, resembled strawberry-beds; the leaves are eaten by
the Lepchas. But the most magnificent plant of these jungles is
_Hodgsonia,_ (a genus I have dedicated to my friend, Mr. Hodgson), a
gigantic climber allied to the gourd, bearing immense yellowish-white
pendulous blossoms, whose petals have a fringe of buff-coloured curling
threads, several inches long. The fruit is of a rich brown, like a
small melon in form, and contains six large nuts, whose kernels (called
“Katior-pot” by the Lepchas) are eaten. The stem, when cut, discharges
water profusely from whichever end is held downwards. The “Took”
(_Hydnocarpus_) is a beautiful evergreen tree, with tufts of yellow
blossoms on the trunk: its fruit is as large as an orange, and is used
to poison fish, while from the seeds an oil is expressed. Tropical oaks
and Terminalias are the giants of these low forests, the latter
especially, having buttressed trunks, appear truly gigantic; one, of a
kind called “Sung-lok,” measured 47 feet in girth, at 5 feet, and 21 at
15 feet from the ground, and was fully 200 feet high. I could only
procure the leaves by firing a ball into the crown. Some of their
trunks lay smouldering on the ground, emitting a curious smell from the
mineral matter in their ashes, of whose constituents an account will be
found in the Appendix.
[135] Especially upon the broad terraces of gravel, some of which are
upwards of a mile long, and 200 feet above the stream: they are
covered with boulders of rock, and are generally opposite feeders of
the river.
Birds are very rare, as is all animal life but insects, and a small
fresh-water crab, _Thelphusa,_ (“Ti-hi” of the Lepchas). Shells, from
the absence of lime, are extremely scarce, and I scarcely picked up a
single specimen: the most common are species of _Cyclostoma._
The rains commenced on the 10th of May, greatly increasing the
discomforts of travelling, but moderating the heat by drenching
thunder-storms, which so soaked the men’s loads, that I was obliged to
halt a day in the Teesta valley to have waterproof covers made of
platted bamboo-work, enclosing Phrynium leaves. I was delighted to find
that my little tent was impervious to water, though its thickness was
but of one layer of blanket: it was a single ridge with two poles, 7
feet high, 8 feet long, and 8 feet broad at the base, forming nearly an
equilateral triangle in front.
Bhomsong was looking more beautiful than ever in its rich summer
clothing of tropical foliage. I halted during an hour of heavy rain on
the spot where I had spent the previous Christmas, and could not help
feeling doubly lonely in a place where every rock and tree reminded me
of that pleasant time. The isolation of my position, the hostility of
the Dewan, and consequent uncertainty of the success of a journey that
absorbed all my thoughts, the prevalence of fevers in the valleys I was
traversing, and the many difficulties that beset my path, all crowded
on the imagination when fevered by exertion and depressed by gloomy
weather, and my spirits involuntarily sank as I counted the many miles
and months intervening between me and my home.
The little flat on which I had formerly encamped was now covered with a
bright green crop of young rice. The house then occupied by the Dewan
was now empty and unroofed; but the suspension bridge had been
repaired, and its light framework of canes, spanning the boiling flood
of the Teesta, formed a graceful object in this most beautiful
landscape. The temperature of the river was 58°, only 7° above that of
mid-winter, owing to the now melting snows. I had rather expected to
meet either with a guide, or with some further obstruction here, but as
none appeared, I proceeded onwards as soon as the weather moderated.
[Illustration: Pandanus. Sikkim screw-pine]
Higher up, the scenery resembles that of Tchintam on the Tambur: the
banks are so steep as to allow of no road, and the path ascends from
the river, at 1000 feet, to Lathiang village, at 4,800 feet, up a wild,
rocky torrent that descends from Mainom to the Teesta. The cliffs here
are covered with wild plantains and screw-pines (_Pandanus_), 50 feet
high, that clasp the rocks with cable-like roots, and bear one or two
crowns of drooping leaves, 5 feet long: two palms, Rattan (_Calamus_)
and _Areca gracilis,_ penetrate thus far up the Teesta valley, but are
scarcely found further.
From the village the view was superb, embracing the tropical gulley
below, with the flat of Bhomsong deep down in the gorge, its bright
rice-fields gleaming like emeralds amid the dark vegetation that
surrounded it; the Teesta winding to the southward, the pine-clad rocky
top of Mainom, 10,613 feet high, to the south-west, the cone of Mount
Ararat far to the south, to the north black mountains tipped with snow,
and to the east the magnificent snowy range of Chola, girdling the
valley of the Ryott with a diadem of frosted silver. The coolies, each
carrying upwards of 80 lb. load, had walked twelve hours that day, and
besides descending 2000 feet, they had ascended nearly 4000 feet, and
gone over innumerable ups and downs besides.
Beyond Lathiang, a steep and dangerous path runs along the east flank
of Mainom, sometimes on narrow ledges of dry rock, covered with long
grass, sometimes dipping into wooded gullies, full of _Edgeworthia
Gardneri_ and small trees of Andromeda and rhododendron, covered with
orchids[136] of great beauty.
[136] Especially some species of _Sunipia_ and _Cirrhopetalum,_ whicb
have not yet been introduced into England.
Descending to Gorh (4,100 feet), I was met by the Lama of that
district, a tall, disagreeable-looking fellow, who informed me that the
road ahead was impassable. The day being spent, I was obliged to camp
at any rate; after which he visited me in full canonicals, bringing me
a handsome present, but assuring me that he had no authority to let me
advance. I treated him with civility, and regretted my objects being so
imperative, and my orders so clear, that I was obliged to proceed on
the following morning: on which he abruptly decamped, as I suspected,
in order to damage the paths and bridges. He came again at daylight,
and expostulated further; but finding it of no use, he volunteered to
accompany me, officiously offering me the choice of two roads. I asked
for the coolest, knowing full well that it was useless to try and
out-wit him in such matters. At the first stream the bridge was
destroyed, but seeing the planks peeping through the bushes in which
they had been concealed, I desired the Lama to repair it, which he did
without hesitation. So it was at every point: the path was cumbered
with limbs of trees, crossing-stones were removed from the streams, and
all natural difficulties were increased. I kept constantly telling the
Lama that as he had volunteered to show me the road, I felt sure he
intended to remove all obstacles, and accordingly I put him to all the
trouble I possibly could, which he took with a very indifferent grace.
When I arrived at the swinging bridge across the Teesta, I found that
the canes were loosened, and that slips of bamboo, so small as nearly
to escape observation, were ingeniously placed low down over the single
bamboo that formed the footing, intended to trip up the unwary
passenger, and overturn him into the river, which was deep, and with a
violent current. Whilst the Lama was cutting these, one of my party
found a charcoal writing on a tree, announcing the speedy arrival from
the Rajah of my old guide, Meepo; and he shortly afterwards appeared,
with instructions to proceed with me, though not to the Tibetan
frontier. The lateness of the season, the violence of the rains, and
the fears, on the Rajah’s part, that I might suffer from fever or
accident, were all urged to induce me to return, or at least only to
follow the west branch of the Teesta to Kinchinjunga. These reasons
failing, I was threatened with Chinese interference on the frontier.
All these objections I overruled, by refusing to recognise any
instructions that were not officially communicated to the
Superintendent of Dorjiling.
The Gorh Lama here took leave of me: he was a friend of the Dewan, and
was rather surprised to find that the Rajah had sent me a guide, and
now attempted to pass himself off as my friend, pompously charging
Meepo with the care of me, and bidding me a very polite farewell. I
could not help telling him civilly, but plainly, what I thought of him;
and so we parted.
Meepo was very glad to join my party again: he is a thorough Lepcha in
heart, a great friend of his Rajah and of Tchebu Lama, and one who both
fears and hates the Dewan. He assured me of the Rajah’s good wishes and
intentions, but spoke with great doubt as to the probability of a
successful issue to my journey: he was himself ignorant of the road,
but had brought a guide, whose appearance, however, was against him,
and who turned out to be sent as a spy on us both.
Instead of crossing the Teesta here, we kept on for two days up its
west bank, to a cane bridge at Lingo, where the bed of the river is
still only 2000 feet above the sea, though 45 miles distant from the
plains, and flowing in a valley bounded by mountains 12,000 to 16,000
feet high. The heat was oppressive, from the closeness of the
atmosphere, the great power of the sun, now high at noon-day, and the
reflection from the rocks. Leeches began to swarm as the damp
increased, and stinging flies of various kinds. My clothes were
drenched with perspiration during five hours of every day, and the
crystallising salt irritated the skin. On sitting down to rest, I was
overcome with languor and sleep, and, but for the copious supply of
fresh water everywhere, travelling would have been intolerable. The
Coolies were all but naked, and were constantly plunging into the pools
of the rivers; for, though filthy in their persons, they revel in cold
water in summer. They are powerful swimmers, and will stem a very
strong current, striking out with each arm alternately. It is an
animated sight when twenty or thirty of these swarthy children of
nature are disporting their muscular figures in the water, diving after
large fish, and sometimes catching them by tickling them under the
stones.
Of plants I found few not common at similar elevations below Dorjiling,
except another kind of Tree-fern,[137] whose pith is eaten in times of
scarcity. The India-rubber fig penetrates thus far amongst the
mountains, but is of small size. A Gentian, _Arenaria,_ and some
sub-alpine plants are met with, though the elevation is only 2000 feet,
and the whole climate thoroughly tropical: they were annuals usually
found at 7000 to 10,000 feet elevation, and were growing here on mossy
rocks, cooled by the spray of the river, whose temperature was only
56·3°. My servant having severely sprained his wrist by a fall, the
Lepchas wanted to apply a moxa, which they do by lighting a piece of
puff-ball, or Nepal paper that burns like tinder, laying it on the
skin, and blowing it till a large open sore is produced: they shook
their heads at my treatment, which consisted in transferring some of
the leeches from our persons to the inflamed part.
[137] _Alsophila spinulosa,_ the “Pugjik” of the Lepchas, who eat the
soft watery pith: it is abundant in East Bengal and the Peninsula of
India. The other Sikkim Tree-fern, _A. gigantea,_ is far more common
from the level of the plains to 6,500 elevation, and is found as far
south as Java.
After crossing the Teesta by the cane bridge of Lingo, our route lay
over a steep and lofty spur, round which the river makes a great sweep.
On the ascent of this ridge we passed large villages on flats
cultivated with buckwheat. The saddle is 5,500 feet high, and thence a
rapid descent leads to the village of Singtam, which faces the north,
and is 300 feet lower, and 3000 feet above the river, which is here no
longer called the Teesta, but is known as the Lachen-Lachoong, from its
double origin in the rivers of these names, which unite at Choongtam,
twenty miles higher up. Of these, the source of the Lachen is in the
Cholamoo lakes in Tibet; while the Lachoong rises on the south flank of
Donkia mountain, both many marches north of my present position. At
Singtam the Lacben-Lachoong runs westward, till joined by the Rihi from
the north, and the Rinoong from the west, after receiving which it
assumes the name of Teesta: of these affluents, the Rinoong is the
largest, and drains the south-east face of Kinchinjunga and Pundim, and
the north of Nursing: all which mountains are seen to the
north-north-west of Singtam. The Rinoong valley is cultivated for
several miles up, and has amongst others the village and Lamasery of
Bah. Beyond this the view of black, rugged precipices with snowy
mountains towering above them, is one of the finest in Sikkim. There is
a pass in that direction, from Bah over the Tckonglah to the Thlonok
valley, and thence to the province of Jigatzi in Tibet, but it is
almost impracticable.
[Illustration: View of Kinchinjunga from Singtam, looking
north-westward]
A race of wild men, called “Harrum-mo,” are said to inhabit the head of
the valley, living in the woods of a district called Mund-po, beyond
Bah; tbey shun habitations, speak an unintelligible tongue, have more
hair on the face than Lepchas, and do not plait that of their heads,
but wear it in a knot; they use the bow and arrow, and eat snakes and
vermin, which the Lepchas will not touch. Such is the account I have
heard, and which is certainly believed in Sikkim: similar stories are
very current in half civilized countries; and if this has any truth, it
possibly refers to the Chepangs,[138] a very remarkable race, of
doubtful affinity and origin, inhabiting the Nepal forests.
[138] Hodgson, in “Bengal Asiatic Society’s Journal” for 1848.
At Singtam I was waited on by the Soubah of the district, a tall portly
Bhoteea, who was destined to prove a most active enemy to my pursuits.
He governs the country between Gorh and the Tibet frontier, for the
Maha-Raanee (wife of the Rajah), whose dowry it is; and she being the
Dewan’s relative, I had little assistance to expect from her agent. His
conduct was very polite, and he brought me a handsome offering for
myself; but after delaying me a day on the pretext of collecting food
for my people, of which I was in want, I was obliged to move on with no
addition to my store, and trust to obtaining some at the next village,
or from Dorjiling. Owing, however, to the increasing distance, and the
destruction of the roads by the rains, my supplies from that place were
becoming irregular: I therefore thought it prudent to reduce my party,
by sending back my guard of Sepoys, who could be of no further use.
From this point the upper portion of the course of the Teesta
(Lachen-Lachoong) is materially different from what it is lower down;
becoming a boisterous torrent, as suddenly as the Tambur does above
Mywa Guola. Its bed is narrower, large masses of rock impede its
course, nor is there any place where it is practicable for rafts at any
season; the only means of passing it being by cane bridges that are
thrown across, high above the stream.
The slope on either side of the valley is very steep; that on the
north, in particular, appearing too precipitous for any road, and being
only frequented by honey seekers, who scale the rocks by cane ladders,
and thus reach the pendulous bees’-nests, which are so large as in some
instances to be conspicuous features at the distance of a mile. This
pursuit appeared extremely perilous, the long thread-like canes in many
places affording the only footing, over many yards of cliff: the
procuring of this honey, however, is the only means by which many of
the idle poor raise the rent which they must pay to the Rajah.
The most prominent effect of the steepness of the valleys is the
prevalence of land-slips, which sometimes descend for 3000 feet,
carrying devastation along their course: they are caused either by the
melting of the snow-beds on the mountains, or by the action of the
rains on the stratified rocks, and are much increased in effect and
violence by the heavy timber-trees which, swaying forwards, loosen the
earth at their roots, and give impetus to the mass. This phenomenon is
as frequent and destructive as in Switzerland, where, however, more
lives are lost; from the country being more populous, and from the
people recklessly building in places particularly exposed to such
accidents. A most destructive one had, however, occurred here the
previous year, by which a village was destroyed, together with twelve
of its inhabitants, and all the cattle. The fragments of rock
precipitated are sometimes of enormous size, but being a soft
mica-schist, are soon removed by weathering. It is in the rainy season
that landslips are most frequent, and shortly after rain they are
pretty sure to be heard far or near. I crossed the débris of the great
one alluded to, on the first march beyond Singtam: the whole face of
the mountain appeared more or less torn up for fully a mile, presenting
a confused mass of white micaceous clay, full of angular masses of
rock. The path was very difficult and dangerous, being carried along
the steep slope, at an angle, in some places, of 35°; and it was
constantly shifting, from the continued downward sliding, and from the
action of streams, some of which are large, and cut deep channels. In
one I had the misfortune to lose my only sheep, which was carried away
by the torrent. These streams were crossed by means of sticks and
ricketty bamboos, and the steep sides (sometimes twenty or thirty feet
high), were ascended by notched poles.
The weather continued very hot for the elevation (4000 to 5000 feet),
the rain brought no coolness, and for the greater part of the three
marches between Singtam and Chakoong, we were either wading through
deep mud, or climbing over rocks. Leeches swarmed in incredible
profusion in the streams and damp grass, and among the bushes: they got
into my hair, hung on my eyelids, and crawled up my legs and down my
back. I repeatedly took upwards of a hundred from my legs, where the
small ones used to collect in clusters on the instep: the sores which
they produced were not healed for five months afterwards, and I retain
the scars to the present day. Snuff and tobacco leaves are the best
antidote, but when marching in the rain, it is impossible to apply this
simple remedy to any advantage. The best plan I found to be rolling the
leaves over the feet, inside the stockings, and powdering the legs with
snuff.
Another pest is a small midge, or sand-fly, which causes intolerable
itching, and subsequent irritation, and is in this respect the most
insufferable torment in Sikkim; the minutest rent in one’s clothes is
detected by the acute senses of this insatiable bloodsucker, which is
itself so small as to be barely visible without a microscope. We daily
arrived at our camping-ground, streaming with blood, and mottled with
the bites of peepsas, gnats, midges, and mosquitos, besides being
infested with ticks.
As the rains advanced, insects seemed to be called into existence in
countless swarms; large and small moths, cockchafers, glow-worms, and
cockroaches, made my tent a Noah’s ark by night, when the candle was
burning; together with winged ants, May-flies, flying earwigs, and many
beetles, while a very large species of _Tipula_ (daddy-long-legs) swept
its long legs across my face as I wrote my journal, or plotted off my
map. After retiring to rest and putting out the light, they gradually
departed, except a few which could not find the way out, and remained
to disturb my slumbers.
Chakoong is a remarkable spot in the bottom of the valley, at an angle
of the Lachen-Lachoong, which here receives an affluent from Gnarem, a
mountain 17,557 feet high, on the Chola range to the east.[139] There
is no village, but some grass huts used by travellers, which are built
close to the river on a very broad flat, fringed with alder, hornbeam,
and birch: the elevation is 4,400 feet, and many European genera not
found about Dorjiling, and belonging to the temperate Himalaya, grow
intermixed with tropical plants that are found no further north. The
birch, willow, alder, and walnut grow side by side with wild plantain,
_Erythrina, Wallichia_ palm, and gigantic bamboos: the _Cedrela Toona,_
figs, _Melastoma, Scitamineæ,_ balsams, _Pothos,_ peppers, and gigantic
climbing vines, grow mixed with brambles, speedwell, _Paris,_
forget-me-not, and nettles that sting like poisoned arrows. The wild
English strawberry is common, but bears a tasteless fruit: its
inferiority is however counterbalanced by the abundance of a grateful
yellow raspberry. Parasitical Orchids (_Dendrobium nobile,_ and
_densiflorum,_ etc.), cover the trunks of oaks, while _Thalictrum_ and
_Geranium_ grow under their shade. _Monotropa_ and _Balanophora,_ both
parasites on the roots of trees (the one a native of north Europe and
the other of a tropical climate), push their leafless stems and heads
of flowers through the soil together: and lastly, tree-ferns grow
associated with the _Pteris aquilina_ (brake) and _Lycopodium clavatum_
of our British moors; and amongst mosses, the superb Himalayan _Lyellia
crispa,_[140] with the English _Funaria hygrometrica._
[139] This is called Black Rock in Col. Waugh’s map. I doubt Gnarem
being a generally known name: the people hardly recognise the mountain
as sufficiently conspicuous to bear a name.
[140] This is one of the most remarkable mosses in the Himalaya
mountains, and derives additional interest from having been named
after the late Charles Lyell, Esq., of Kinnordy, the father of the
most eminent geologist of the present day.
The dense jungles of Chakoong completely cover the beautiful flat
terraces of stratified sand and gravel, which rise in three shelves to
150 feet above the river, and whose edges appear as sharply cut as if
the latter had but lately retired from them. They are continuous with a
line of quartzy cliffs, covered with scarlet rhododendrons, and in the
holes of which a conglomerate of pebbles is found, 150 feet above the
river. Everywhere immense boulders are scattered about, some of which
are sixty yards long: their surfaces are water-worn into hollows,
proving the river to have cut through nearly 300 feet of deposit, which
once floored its valley. Lower down the valley, and fully 2000 feet
above the river, I had passed numerous angular blocks resting on gentle
slopes where no landslips could possibly have deposited them; and which
I therefore refer to ancient glacial action: one of these, near the
village of Niong, was nearly square, eighty feet long, and ten high.
It is a remarkable fact, that this hot, damp gorge is never malarious;
this is attributable to the coolness of the river, and to the water on
the flats not stagnating; for at Choongtam, a march further north, and
1,500 feet higher, fevers and ague prevail in summer on similar flats,
but which have been cleared of jungle, and are therefore exposed to the
sun.
I had had constant headache for several mornings on waking, which I did
not fail to attribute to coming fever, or to the unhealthiness of the
climate; till I accidentally found it to arise from the wormwood, upon
a thick couch of the cut branches of which I was accustomed to sleep,
and which in dry weather produced no such effects.[141]
[141] This wormwood (_Artemisia Indaca_) is one of the most common
Sikkim plants at 2000 to 6000 feet elevation, and grows twelve feet
high: it is a favourite food of goats.
From Chakoong to Choongtam the route lay northwards, following the
course of the river, or crossing steep spurs of vertical strata of
mica-schist, that dip into the valley, and leave no space between their
perpendicular sides and the furious torrent. Immense landslips seamed
the steep mountain flanks; and we crossed with precipitation one that
extended fully 4000 feet (and perhaps much more) up a mountain 12,000
feet high, on the east bank: it moves every year, and the mud and rocks
shot down by it were strewn with the green leaves and twigs of shrubs,
some of the flowers on which were yet fresh and bright, while others
were crushed: these were mixed with gigantic trunks of pines, with
ragged bark and scored timbers. The talus which had lately been poured
into the valley formed a gently sloping bank, twenty feet high, over
which the Lachen- Lachoong rolled, from a pool above, caused by the
damming up of its waters. On either side of the pool were cultivated
terraces of stratified sand and pebbles, fifty feet high, whose
alder-fringed banks, joined by an elegant cane bridge, were reflected
in the placid water; forming a little spot of singular quiet and
beauty, that contrasted with the savage grandeur of the surrounding
mountains, and the headstrong course of the foaming torrent below, amid
whose deafening roar it was impossible to speak and be heard.
[Illustration: Cane-bridge and Tukcham mountain]
The mountain of Choongtam is about 10,000 feet high; it divides the
Lachen from the Lachoong river, and terminates a lofty range that runs
for twenty-two miles south from the lofty mountain of Kinchinjhow. Its
south exposed face is bare of trees, except clumps of pines towards the
top, and is very steep, grassy, and rocky, without water. It is hence
quite unlike the forest-clad mountains further south, and indicates a
drier and more sunny climate. The scenery much resembles that of
Switzerland, and of the north-west Himalaya, especially in the great
contrast between the southern and northern exposures, the latter being
always clothed with a dense vegetation. At the foot of this very steep
mountain is a broad triangular flat, 5,270 feet above the sea, and 300
feet above the river, to which it descends by three level cultivated
shelves. The village, consisting of a temple and twenty houses, is
placed on the slope of the hill. I camped on the flat in May, before it
became very swampy, close to some great blocks of gneiss, of which many
lie on its surface: it was covered with tufts of sedge (like _Carex
stellulata_), and fringed with scarlet rhododendron, walnut,
_Andromeda, Elæagnus_ (now bearing pleasant acid fruit), and small
trees of a _Photinia,_ a plant allied to hawthorn, of the leaves of
which the natives make tea (as they do of _Gualtheria, Andromeda,
Vaccinium,_ and other allied plants). Rice, cultivated[142] in pools
surrounded by low banks, was just peeping above ground; and scanty
crops of millet, maize, and buckwheat flourished on the slopes around.
[142] Choongtam is in position and products analogous to Lelyp, on the
Tambur (vol. i, page 204). Rice cultivation advances thus high up each
valley, and at either place Bhoteeas replace the natives of the lower
valleys.
The inhabitants of Choongtam are of Tibetan origin; few of them had
seen an Englishman before, and they flocked out, displaying the most
eager curiosity: the Lama and Phipun (or superior officer) of the
Lachoong valley came to pay their respects with a troop of followers,
and there was lolling out of tongues, and scratching of ears, at every
sentence spoken, and every object of admiration. This extraordinary
Tibetan salute at first puzzled me excessively, nor was it until
reading MM. Huc and Gabet’s travels on my return to England, that I
knew of its being the _ton_ at Lhassa, and in all civilised parts of
Tibet.
As the valley was under the Singtam Soubah’s authority, I experienced a
good deal of opposition; and the Lama urged the wrath of the gods
against my proceeding. This argument, I said, had been disposed of the
previous year, and I was fortunate in recognising one of my
Changachelling friends, who set forth my kindly offices to the Lamas of
that convent, and the friendship borne me by its monks, and by those of
Pemiongchi. Many other modes of dissuading me were attempted, but with
Meepo’s assistance I succeeded in gaining my point. The difficulty and
delays in remittance of food, caused by the landslips having destroyed
the road, had reduced our provisions to a very low ebb; and it became
not only impossible to proceed, but necessary to replenish my stores on
the spot. At first provisions enough were brought to myself, for the
Rajah had issued orders for my being cared for, and having some
practice among the villagers in treating rheumatism and goîtres, I had
the power of supplying my own larder; but I found it impossible to buy
food for my people. At last, the real state of the case came out; that
the Rajah having gone to Choombi, his usual summer-quarters in Tibet,
the Dewan had issued orders that no food should be sold or given to my
people, and that no roads were to be repaired during my stay in the
country; thus cutting off my supplies from Dorjiling, and, in short,
attempting to starve me out. At this juncture, Meepo received a letter
from the Durbar purporting to be from the Rajah, commanding my
immediate return, on the grounds that I had been long enough in the
country for my objects: it was not addressed to me, and I refused to
receive it as an official communication; following up my refusal by
telling Meepo that if he thought his orders required it, he had better
leave me and return to the Rajah, as I should not stir without
directions from Dr. Campbell, except forwards. He remained, however,
and said he had written to the Rajah, urging him to issue stringent
orders for my party being provisioned.
We were reduced to a very short allowance before the long-expected
supplies came, by which time our necessities had almost conquered my
resolution not to take by force of the abundance I might see around,
however well I might afterwards pay. It is but fair to state that the
improvident villagers throughout Sikkim are extremely poor in vegetable
food at this season, when the winter store is consumed, and the crops
are still green. They are consequently obliged to purchase rice from
the lower valleys, which, owing to the difficulties of transport, is
very dear; and to obtain it they barter wool, blankets, musk, and
Tibetan produce of all kinds. Still they had cattle, which they would
willingly have sold to me, but for the Dewan’s orders.
There is a great difference between the vegetation of Dorjiling and
that of similar elevations near Choongtam situated far within the
Himalaya: this is owing to the steepness and dryness of the latter
locality, where there is an absence of dense forest, which is replaced
by a number of social grasses clothing the mountain sides, many new and
beautiful kinds of rhododendrons, and a variety of European
genera,[143] which (as I have elsewhere noticed) are either wholly
absent from the damper ranges of Dorjiling, or found there several
thousand feet higher up. On the hill above Choongtam village, I
gathered, at 5000 to 6000 feet, _Rhododendron arboreum_ and
_Dalhousiæ,_ which do not generally grow at Dorjiling below 7,500
feet.[144] The yew appears at 7000 feet, whilst, on the outer ranges
(as on Tonglo), it is only found at 9,500 to 10,000 feet; and whereas
on Tonglo it forms an immense tall tree, with long sparse branches and
slender drooping twigs, growing amongst gigantic magnolias and oaks, at
Choongtam it is small and rigid, and much resembling in appearance our
churchyard yew.[145] At 8000 feet the _Abies Brunoniana_ is found; a
tree quite unknown further south; but neither the larch nor the _Albies
Smithiana_ (Khutrow) accompanied it, they being confined to still more
northern regions.
[143] _Deutzia, Saxifraga caliata, Thalictrum, Euphorbia,_ yellow
violet, _Labiatæ, Androsace, Leguminosæ, Coriaria, Delphinium,_
currant, _Umbelliferæ,_ primrose, _Anemone, Convallaria, Roscœa,
Mitella, Herminium, Drosera._
[144] I collected here ten kinds of rhododendron, which, however, are
not the social plants that they become at greater elevations. Still,
in the delicacy and beauty of their flowers, four of them, perhaps,
excel any others; they are, _R. Aucklandii,_ whose flowers are five
inches and a half in diameter; _R. Maddeni, R. Dalhousiæ,_ and _R.
Edgeworthii,_ all white-flowered bushes, of which the two first rise
to the height of small trees.
[145] The yew spreads east from Kashmir to the Assam Himalaya and the
Khasia mountains; and the Japan, Philippine Island, Mexican, and other
North American yews, belong to the same widely-diffused species. In
the Khasia (its most southern limit) it is found as low as 5000 feet
above the sea-level.
I have seldom had occasion to allude to snakes, which are rare and shy
in most parts of the Himalaya; I, however, found an extremely venomous
one at Choongtam; a small black viper, a variety of the cobra di
capello,[146] which it replaces in the drier grassy parts of the
interior of Sikkim, the large cobra not inhabiting in the mountain
regions. Altogether I only collected about twelve species in Sikkim,
seven of which are venomous, and all are dreaded by the Lepchas. An
enormous hornet (_Vespa magnifica,_ Sm.), nearly two inches long, was
here brought to me alive in a cleft-stick, lolling out its great
thorn-like sting, from which drops of a milky poison distilled: its
sting is said to produce fatal fevers in men and cattle, which may very
well be the case, judging from that of a smaller kind, which left great
pain in my hand for two days, while a feeling of numbness remained in
the arm for several weeks. It is called Vok by the Lepchas, a common
name for any bee: its larvæ are said to be greedily eaten, as are those
of various allied insects.
[146] Dr. Gray, to whom I am indebted for the following information,
assures me that this reptile is not specifically distinct from the
common Cobra of India; though all the mountain specimens of it which
he has examined retain the same small size and dark colour. Of the
other Sikkim reptiles which I procured seven are _Colubridæ_ and
innocuous; five _Crotalidæ_ are venomous, three of which are new
species belonging to the genera _Parias_ and _Trimesurus._ Lizards are
not abundant, but I found at Choongtam a highly curious one,
_Plestiodon Sikkimensis,_ Gray; a kind of Skink, whose only allies are
two North American congeners; and a species of _Agama_ (a
chameleon-like lizard) which in many important points more resembled
an allied American genus than an Asiatic one. The common immense
earth-worm of Sikkim, _Ichthyophis glutinosus,_ is a native of the
Khasia mountains, Singapore, Ceylon and Java. It is a most remarkable
fact, that whereas seven out of the twelve Sikkim snakes are
poisonous, the sixteen species I procured in the Khasia mountains are
innocuous.
Choongtam boasts a profusion of beautiful insects, amongst which the
British swallow-tail butterfly (_Papilio Machaon_) disports itself in
company with magnificent black, gold, and scarlet-winged butterflies,
of the Trojan group, so typical of the Indian tropics. At night my tent
was filled with small water-beetles (_Berosi_) that quickly put out the
candle; and with lovely moths came huge cockchafers (_Encerris
Griffithii_), and enormous and fœtid flying-bugs (of the genus
_Derecterix_), which bear great horns on the thorax. The irritation of
mosquito and midge bites, and the disgusting insects that clung with
spiny legs to the blankets of my tent and bed, were often as effectual
in banishing sleep, as were my anxious thoughts regarding the future.
The temple at Choongtam is a poor wooden building, but contains some
interesting drawings of Lhassa, with its extensive Lamaseries and
temples; they convey the idea of a town, gleaming, like Moscow, with
gilded and copper roofs; but on a nearer aspect it is found to consist
of a mass of stone houses, and large religious edifices many stories
high, the walls of which are regularly pierced with small square
ornamented windows.[147]
[147] MM. Huc and Gabet’s account of Lhassa is, I do not doubt,
excellent as to particulars; but the trees which they describe as
magnificent, and girdling the city, have uniformly been represented to
me as poor stunted willows, apricots, poplars, and walnuts, confined
to the gardens of the rich. No doubt the impression left by these
objects on the minds of travellers from tree-less Tartary, and of
Sikkimites reared amidst stupendous forests, must be widely different.
The information concerning Lhassa collected by Timkowski, “Travels of
the Russian Mission to China” (in 1821) is greatly exaggerated, though
containing much that is true and curious. The dyke to protect the city
from inundations I never heard of; but there is a current story in
Sikkim that Lhassa is built in a lake-bed, which was dried up by a
miracle of the Lamas, and that in heavy rain the earth trembles, and
the waters bubble through the soil: a Dorjiling rain-fall, I have been
assured, would wash away the whole city. Ermann (Travels in Siberia,
i., p. 186), mentions a town (Klinchi, near Perm), thus built over
subterraneous springs, and in constant danger of being washed away.
MM. Huc and Gabet allude to the same tradition under another form.
They say that the natives of the banks of the Koko-nor affirm that the
waters of that lake once occupied a subterranean position beneath
Lhassa, and that the waters sapped the foundations of the temples as
soon as they were built, till withdrawn by supernatural agency.
There is nothing remarkable in the geology of Choongtam: the base of
the hill consists of the clay and mica slates overlain by gneiss,
generally dipping to the eastward; in the latter are granite veins,
containing fine tourmalines. Actinolites are found in some highly
metamorphic gneisses, brought by landslips from the neighbouring
heights. The weather in May was cloudy and showery, but the rain which
fell was far less in amount than that at Dorjiling: during the day the
sun’s power was great; but though it rose between five and six a.m., it
never appeared above the lofty peaked mountains that girdle the valley
till eight a.m. Dark pines crest the heights around, and landslips
score their flanks with white seams below; while streaks of snow remain
throughout the month at 9000 feet above; and everywhere silvery
torrents leap down to the Lachen and Lachoong.
[Illustration: Juniperus recurva]