Top of Kongra Lama—Tibet frontier—Elevation—View—Vegetation—Descent to
Tungu—Tungu-choo—Ponies—Kinchinjhow and Changokhang mountains—Palung
plains—Tibetans—Dogs—Dingcbam province of
Tibet—Inhabitants—Dresses—Women’s ornaments—Blackening
faces—Coral—Tents—Elevation of Palung—Lama—Shawl-wool
goats—Shearing—Siberian plants—Height of glaciers, and perpetual
snow—Geology—Plants, and wild animals—Marmots—Insects—Birds—Choongtam
Lama—Religious exercises—Tibetan hospitality—_Delphinium_—Perpetual
snow—Temperature at Tungu—Return to Tallum Samdong—To
Lamteng—Houses—Fall of Barometer—Cicadas—Lime deposit—Landslips—Arrival
at Choongtam—Cobra—Rageu—Heat of Climate—Velocity and volume of rivers
measured—Leave for Lachoong valley—Keadom—General features of
valley—Lachoong village—Tunkra mountain—Moraines—Cultivation—Lachoong
Phipun—Lama ceremonies beside a sick-bed.
We reached the boundary between Sikkim and Tibet early in the
afternoon; it is drawn along Kongra Lama, which is a low flat spur
running east from Kinchinjhow towards Chomiomo, at a point where these
mountains are a few miles apart, thus crossing the Lachen river:[193]
it is marked by cairns of stone, some rudely fashioned into chaits,
covered with votive rags on wands of bamboo. I made the altitude by
barometer 15,745 feet above the sea, and by boiling water, 15,694 feet,
the water boiling at 184·1°; the temperature of the air between 2.40
and 4 p.m. varied from 41·3° to 42·5°, the dew-point 39·8°; that of the
Lachen was 47°, which was remarkably high. We were bitterly cold; as
the previous rain had wetted us through, and a keen wind was blowing up
the valley. The continued mist and fog intercepted all view, except of
the flanks of the great mountains on either hand, of the rugged snowy
ones to the south, and of those bounding the Lachen to the north. The
latter were unsnowed, and appeared lower than Kongra Lama, the ground
apparently sloping away in that direction; but when I ascended them,
three months afterwards, I found they were 3000 feet higher! a proof
how utterly fallacious are estimates of height, when formed by the eye
alone. My informants called them Peuka-t’hlo; “peu” signifies north in
Tibetan, and “t’hlo” a hill in Lepcha.
[193] The upper valley of the Lachen in Tibet, which I ascended in the
following October, is very open, flat, barren, and stony; it is
bounded on the north by rounded spurs from Chomiomo, which are
continued east to Donkia, forming a watershed to the Lachen on the
south, and to the Arun on the north.
Isolated patches of vegetation appeared on the top of the pass, where I
gathered forty kinds of plants, most of them being of a tufted habit
characteristic of an extreme climate; some (as species of
_Caryophylleæ_) forming hemi-spherical balls on the naked soil;
others[194] growing in matted tufts level with the ground. The greater
portion had no woolly covering; nor did I find any of the cottony
species of _Saussurea,_ which are so common on the wetter mountains to
the southward. Some most delicate-flowered plants even defy the biting
winds of these exposed regions; such are a prickly _Meconopsis_ with
slender flower-stalks and four large blue poppy-like petals, a
_Cyananthus_ with a membranous bell-shaped corolla, and a fritillary.
Other curious plants were a little yellow saxifrage with long runners
(very like the arctic _S. flagellaris,_ of Spitzbergen and Melville
Island), and the strong-scented spikenard (_Nardostachys_).
[194] The other plants found on the pass were; of smooth hairless
ones, _Ranunculus,_ Fumitory, several species of _Stellaria, Arenaria,
Cruciferæ, Parnassia, Morina,_ saxifrages, _Sedum,_ primrose,
_Herminium, Polygonum, Campanula, Umbelliferæ,_ grasses and _Carices_:
of woolly or hairy once, _Anemone, Artemisia, Myosotis, Draba,
Potentilla,_ and several _Compositæ,_ etc.
The rocks were chiefly of reddish quartz, and so was the base of
Chomiomo. Kinchinjhow on the contrary was of gneiss, with granite
veins: the strike of both was north-west, and the dip north-east 20° to
30°.
We made a fire at the top with sheep’s droppings, of which the Phipun
had brought up a bagfull, and with it a pair of goat-skin bellows,
which worked by a slit that was opened by the hand in the act of
raising; when inflated, the hole was closed, and the skin pressed down,
thus forcing the air through the bamboo nozzle: this is the common form
of bellows throughout Tibet and the Himalaya.
After two hours I was very stiff and cold, and suffering from headache
and giddiness, owing to the elevation; and having walked about thirteen
miles botanizing, I was glad to ride down. We reached the Phipun’s
tents about 6 p.m., and had more tea before proceeding to Tungu. The
night was fortunately fine and calm, with a few stars and a bright
young moon, which, with the glare from the snows, lighted up the
valley, and revealed magnificent glimpses of the majestic mountains. As
the moon sank, and we descended the narrowing valley, darkness came on,
and with a boy to lead my sure-footed pony, I was at liberty
uninterruptedly to reflect on the events of a day, on which I had
attained the object of so many years’ ambition. Now that all obstacles
were surmounted, and I was returning laden with materials for extending
the knowledge of a science which had formed the pursuit of my life,
will it be wondered at that I felt proud, not less for my own sake,
than for that of the many friends, both in India and at home, who were
interested in my success?
We arrived at Tungu at 9 p.m., my pony not having stumbled once, though
the path was rugged, and crossed by many rapid streams. The Soubah’s
little shaggy steed had carried his portly frame (fully fifteen stone
weight) the whole way out and back, and when he dismounted, it shook
itself, snorted, and seemed quite ready for supper.
On the following morning I was occupied in noting and arranging my
collections, which consisted of upwards of 200 plants; all gathered
above 14,000 feet elevation.[195] Letters arrived from Dorjiling with
unusual speed, having been only seventeen days on the road: they were
full of valuable suggestions and encouragement from my friends Hodgson,
Campbell, and Tchebu Lama.
[195] Amongst them the most numerous Natural orders and genera were,
_Cruciferæ_ 10; _Compositæ_ 20; _Ranunculaceæ_ 10; _Alsineæ_ 9;
_Astragali_ 10; _Potentillæ_ 8; grasses 12; _Carices_ 15;
_Pedicularis_ 7; _Boragineæ_ 7.
On the 26th of July the Phipun, who waited on me every morning with
milk and butter, and whose civility and attentions were now
unremitting, proposed that I should accompany him to an encampment of
Tibetans, at the foot of Kinchinjhow. We mounted ponies, and ascended
the Tunguchoo eastwards: it was a rapid river for the first thousand
feet, flowing in a narrow gorge, between sloping, grassy, and rocky
hills, on which large herds of yaks were feeding, tended by women and
children, whose black tents were scattered about. The yak-calves left
their mothers to run beside our ponies, which became unmanageable,
being almost callous to the bit; and the whole party was sometimes
careering over the slopes, chased by the grunting herds: in other
places, the path was narrow and dangerous, when the sagacious animals
proceeded with the utmost gravity and caution. Rounding one rocky spur,
my pony stumbled, and pitched me forward: fortunately I lighted on the
path.
The rocks were gneiss, with granite veins (strike north-east, dip
south-east): they were covered with _Ephedra,_[196] an _Onosma_ which
yields a purple dye, _Orchis,_ and species of _Androsace_; while the
slopes were clothed with the spikenard and purple _Pedicularis,_ and
the moist grounds with yellow cowslip and long grass. A sudden bend in
the valley opened a superb view to the north, of the full front of
Kinchinjhow, extending for four or five miles east and west; its
perpendicular sides studded with the immense icicles, which are said to
have obtained for it the name of “jhow,”—the “bearded” Kinchin.
Eastward a jagged spur stretches south, rising into another splendid
mountain, called Chango-khang (the Eagle’s crag), from whose flanks
descend great glaciers, the sources of the Tunguchoo.
[196] A curious genus of small shrubs allied to pines, that grows in
the south of Europe. This species is the European _E. vulgaris_; it
inhabits the driest parts of north-west India, and ascends to 17,000
feet in Tibet, but is not found in the moist intervening countries.
We followed the course of an affluent, called the Chachoo, along whose
bed ancient moraines rose in successive ridges: on these I found
several other species of European genera.[197] Over one of these
moraines, 500 feet high, the path ascends to the plains of Palung, an
elevated grassy expanse, two miles long and four broad, extending
southward from the base of Kinchinjhow. Its surface, though very level
for so mountainous a country, is yet varied with open valleys and
sloping hills, 500 to 700 feet high: it is bounded on the west by low
rounded spurs from Kinchinjhow, that form the flank of the Lachen
valley; while on the east it is separated from Chango-khang by the
Chachoo, which cuts a deep east and west trench along the base of
Kinchinjhow, and then turns south to the Tunguchoo. The course of the
Chachoo, where it turns south, is most curious: it meanders in
sickle-shaped curves along the marshy bottom of an old lake-bed, with
steep shelving sides, 500 to 600 feet deep, and covered with juniper
bushes.[198] It is fed by the glaciers of Kinchinjhow, and some little
lakes to the east.
[197] _Delphinium, Hypecoum, Sagina, Gymnandra, Artemisia, Caltha,
Dracocephalum, Leontopodium._
[198] These, which grow on an eastern exposure, exist at a higher
elevation than any other bushes I have met with.
The mean height of Palung plains is 16,000 feet: they are covered with
transported blocks, and I have no doubt their surface has been much
modified by glacial action. I was forcibly reminded of them by the
slopes of the Wengern Alp, but those of Palung are far more level.
Kinchinjhow rises before the spectator, just as the Jungfrau, Mönch,
and Eigher Alps do from that magnificent point of view.
On ascending a low hill, we came in sight of the Tibet camp at the
distance of a mile, when the great mastiffs that guarded it immediately
bayed; and our ponies starting off at full gallop, we soon reached an
enclosure of stone dykes, within which the black tents were pitched.
The dogs were of immense size, and ragged, like the yaks, from their
winter coat hanging to their flanks in great masses; each was chained
near a large stone, on and off which he leapt as he gave tongue; they
are very savage, but great cowards, and not remarkable for
intelligence.
[Illustration: Lepcha girls and Tibetan women]
The people were natives of Gearee and Kambajong, in the adjacent
province of Dingcham, which is the loftiest, coldest, most windy and
arid in Eastern Tibet; and in which are the sources of all the streams
that flow to Nepal; Sikkim, and Bhotan on the one side, and into the
Yaru-tsampu on the other. These families repair yearly to Palung, with
their flocks, herds, and tents, paying tribute to the Sikkim Rajah for
the privilege: they arrive in June and leave in September. Both men and
women were indescribably filthy; as they never wash, their faces were
perfectly black with smoke and exposure, and the women’s with a pigment
of grease as a protection from the wind. The men were dressed as usual,
in the blanket-cloak, with brass pipes, long knives, flint, steel, and
amulets; the women wore similar, but shorter cloaks, with silver and
copper girdles, trowsers, and flannel boots. Their head-dresses were
very remarkable. A circular band of plaited yak’s hair was attached to
the back hair, and encircled the head like a saint’s glory,[199] at
some distance round it. A band crossed the forehead, from which coins,
corals, and turquoises, hung down to the eyebrows, while lappets of
these ornaments fell over the ears. Their own hair was plaited in two
tails, brought over the shoulders, and fastened together in front; and
a little yellow felt cap, traversely elongated, so as not to interfere
with the shape of the glory, was perched on the head. Their
countenances were pleasing, and their manners timid.
[199] I find in Ermann’s “Siberia” (i., p. 210), that the married
women of Yekaterinberg wear a head-dress like an ancient glory covered
with jewels, whilst the unmarried ones plait their tresses. The same
distinguished traveller mentions having seen a lad of six years old
suckled, amongst the Tungooze of East Siberia.
The children crawled half-naked about the tent, or burrowed like moles
in an immense heap of goats’ and sheep-droppings, piled up for fuel,
upon which the family lounged. An infant in arms was playing with a
“coral,” ornamented much like ours, and was covered with jewels and
coins. This custom of decorating children is very common amongst
half-civilised people; and the coral is, perhaps, one of the last
relics of a barbarous age that is retained amongst ourselves. One
mother was nursing her baby, and churning at the same time, by rolling
the goat-skin of yak-milk about on the ground. Extreme poverty induces
the practice of nursing the children for years; and in one tent I saw a
lad upwards of four years of age unconcernedly taking food from his
aunt, and immediately afterwards chewing hard dry grains of maize.
The tents were pitched in holes about two feet and a half deep; and
within them a wall of similar height was built all round: in the middle
was a long clay arched fire-place, with holes above, over which the
cauldrons were placed, the fire being underneath. Saddles,
horse-cloths, and the usual accoutrements and implements of a nomad
people, all of the rudest description, hung about: there was no bed or
stool, but Chinese rugs for sleeping on. I boiled water on the
fire-place; its temperature (184·5°) with that of the air (45·5°) gave
an elevation of 15,867 feet. Barometric observations, taken in October,
at a point considerably lower down the stream, made the elevation
15,620 feet, or a few feet lower than Kongra Lama pass.
A Lama accompanied this colony of Tibetans, a festival in honour of
Kinchinjhow being annually held at a large chait hard by, which is
painted red, ornamented with banners, and surmounted by an enormous
yak’s skull, that faces the mountain. The Lama invited me into his
tent, where I found a wife and family. An extempore altar was at one
end, covered with wafers and other pretty ornaments, made of butter,
stamped or moulded with the fingers.[200] The tents being insupportably
noisome, I preferred partaking of the buttered brick-tea in the open
air; after which, I went to see the shawl-wool goats sheared in a pen
close by. There are two varieties: one is a large animal, with great
horns, called “Rappoo;”[201] the other smaller, and with slender horns,
is called “Tsilloo.” The latter yields the finest wool, but they are
mixed for ordinary purposes. I was assured that the sheep (of which
large flocks were grazing near) afford the finest wool of any. The
animals were caught by the tail, their legs tied, the long winter’s
hair pulled out, and the remainder cut away with a broad flat knife,
which was sharpened with a scythe-stone. The operation was clumsily
performed, and the skin much cut.
[200] The extensive use of these ornaments throughout Tibet, on the
occasion of religious festivals, is alluded to by MM. Huc and Gabet.
[201] This is the “Changra;” and the smaller the “Chyapu” of Mr.
Hodgson’s catalogue. (See “British Museum Catalogue.”)
Turnips are grown at Palung during the short stay of the people, and
this is the most alpine cultivation in Sikkim: the seed is sown early
in July, and the tubers are fit to be eaten in October, if the season
is favourable. They did not come to maturity this year, as I found on
again visiting this spot in October; but their tops had afforded the
poor Tibetans some good vegetables. The mean temperature of the three
summer months at Palung is probably about 40°, an element of
comparatively little importance in regulating the growth and ripening
of vegetables at great elevations in Tibetan climates; where a warm
exposure, the amount of sunshine, and of radiated heat, have a much
greater influence.
During the winter, when these families repair to Kambajong, in Tibet,
the flocks and herds are all stall-fed, with long grass, cut on the
marshy banks of the Yaru. Snow is said to fall five feet deep at that
place, chiefly after January; and it melts in April.
After tea, I ascended the hills overhanging the Lachen valley, which
are very bare and stony; large flocks of sheep were feeding on them,
chiefly upon small tufted sedges, allied to the English _Carex
pilularis,_ which here forms the greatest part of the pasture: the
grass grows mixed with it in small tufts, and is the common Scotch
mountain pasture-grass (_Festuca ovina_).
On the top of these hills, which, for barrenness, reminded me of the
descriptions given of the Siberian steppes, I found, at 17,000 feet
elevation, several minute arctic plants, with _Rhododendron nivale,_
the most alpine of woody plants. On their sterile slopes grew a curious
plant allied to the _Cherleria_ of the Scotch Alps, forming great
hemispherical balls on the ground, eight to ten inches across,
altogether resembling in habit the curious Balsambog (_Bolax glebaria_)
of the Falkland Islands, which grows in very similar scenes.[202]
[202] _Arenaria rupifraga,_ Fenzl. This plant is mentioned by Dr.
Thomson (“Travels in Tibet,” p. 426) as common in Tibet, as far north
as the Karakoram, at an elevation between 16,000 and 18,000 feet. In
Sikkim it is found at the same level. Specimens of it are exhibited in
the Kew Museum. As one instance illustrative of the chaotic state of
Indian botany, I may here mention that this little plant, a denizen of
such remote and inaccessible parts of the globe, and which has only
been known to science a dozen years, bears the burthen of no less than
six names in botanical works. This is the _Bryomorpha rupifraga_ of
Karelin and Kireloff (enumeration of Soongarian plants), who first
described it from specimens gathered in 1841, on the Alatau mountains
(east of Lake Aral). In Ledebour’s “Flora Rossica” (i. p. 780) it
appears as _Arenaria_ (sub-genus _Dicranilla_) _rupifraga,_ Fenzl, MS.
In Decaisne and Cambessede’s Plants of Jacquemont’s “Voyage aus Indes
Orientales,” it is described as _Flourensia cæspitosa,_ and in the
plates of that work it appears as _Periandra cæspitosa_; and lastly,
in Endlicher’s “Genera Plantarum,” Fenzl proposes the long new generic
name of _Thylacospermum_ for it. I have carefully compared the
Himalayan and Alatau plants, and find no difference between them,
except that the flower of the Himalayan one has 4 petals and sepals, 8
stamens, and 2 styles, and that of the Alatau 5 petals and sepals, 10
stamens, and 2-3 styles, characters which are very variable in allied
plants. The flowers appear polygamous, as in the Scotch alpine
_Cherleria,_ which it much resembles in habit, and to which it is very
nearly related in botanical characters.
A few days afterwards, I again visited Palung, with the view of
ascertaining the height of perpetual snow on the south face of
Kinchinjhow; unfortunately, bad weather came on before I reached the
Tibetans, from whom I obtained a guide in consequence. From this place
a ride of about four miles brought me to the source of the Chachoo, in
a deep ravine, containing the terminations of several short, abrupt
glaciers,[203] and into which were precipitated avalanches of snow and
ice. I found it impossible to distinguish the glacial ice from
perpetual snow; the larger beds of snow where presenting a flat
surface, being generally drifts collected in hollows, or accumulations
that have fallen from above: when these accumulations rest on slopes
they become converted into ice, and obeying the laws of fluidity, flow
downwards as glaciers. I boiled water at the most advantageous position
I could select, and obtained an elevation of 16,522 feet.[204] It was
snowing heavily at this time, and we crouched under a gigantic boulder,
benumbed with cold. I had fortunately brought a small phial of brandy,
which, with hot water from the boiling-apparatus kettle, refreshed us
wonderfully.
[203] De Saussure’s glaciers of the second order: see “Forbes’ Travels
in the Alps,” p. 79.
[204] Temperature of boiling water, 183°, air 35°.
The spur that divides these plains from the Lachen river, rises close
to Kinchinjhow, as a lofty cliff of quartzy gneiss, dipping north-east
30°: this I had noticed from the Kongra Lama side. On this side the dip
was also to the northward, and the whole cliff was crossed by cleavage
planes, dipping south, and apparently cutting those of the foliation at
an angle of about 60°: it is the only decided instance of the kind I
met with in Sikkim. I regretted not being able to examine it carefully,
but I was prevented by the avalanches of stones and snow which were
continually being detached from its surface.[205]
[205] I extremely regret not having been at this time acquainted with
Mr. D. Sharpe’s able essays on the foliation, cleavage, etc., of slaty
rocks, gneiss, etc., in the Geological Society’s Journal (ii. p. 74,
and v. p. 111), and still more so with his subsequent papers in the
Philosophical Transactions: as I cannot doubt that many of his
observations, and in particular those which refer to the great arches
in which the folia (commonly called strata) are disposed, would
receive ample illustration from a study of the Himalaya. At vol. i. p.
309, I have distantly alluded to such an arrangement of the gneiss,
etc., into arches, in Sikkim, to which my attention was naturally
drawn by the writings of Professor Sedgwick (“Geolog. Soc. Trans.”)
and Mr. Darwin (“Geological Observations in South America”) on these
obscure subjects. I may add that wherever I met with the gneiss, mica,
schists, and slates, in Sikkim, very near one another, I invariably
found that their cleavage and foliation were conformable. This, for
example, may be seen in the bed of the great Rungeet, below Dorjiling,
where the slates overlie mica schists, and where the latter contain
beds of conglomerate. In these volumes I have often used the more
familiar term of stratification, for foliation. This arises from my
own ideas of the subject not having been clear when the notes were
taken.
The plants found close to the snow were minute primroses, _Parnassia,
Draba,_ tufted wormwoods (_Artemisia_), saxifrages, gentian, small
_Compositæ,_ grasses, and sedges. Our ponies unconcernedly scraped away
the snow with their hoofs, and nibbled the scanty herbage. When I
mounted mine, he took the bit between his teeth, and scampered back to
Palung, over rocks and hills, through bogs and streams; and though the
snow was so blinding that no object could be distinguished, he brought
me to the tents with unerring instinct, as straight as an arrow.
Wild animals are few in kind and rare in individuals, at Tungu and
elsewhere on this frontier; though there is no lack of cover and
herbage. This must be owing to the moist cold atmosphere; and it
reminds me that a similar want of animal life is characteristic of
those climates at the level of the sea, which I have adduced as bearing
a great analogy to the Himalaya, in lacking certain natural orders of
plants. Thus, New Zealand and Fuegia possess, the former no land animal
but a rat, and the latter very few indeed, and none of any size. Such
is also the case in Scotland and Norway. Again, on the damp west coast
of Tasmania, quadrupeds are rare; whilst the dry eastern half of the
island once swarmed with opossums and kangaroos. A few miles north of
Tungu, the sterile and more lofty provinces of Tibet abound in wild
horses, antelopes, hares, foxes, marmots, and numerous other
quadrupeds; although their altitude, climate, and scanty vegetation are
apparently even more unsuited to support such numbers of animals of so
large a size than the karroos of South Africa, and the steppes of
Siberia and Arctic America, which similarly abound in animal life. The
laws which govern the distribution of large quadrupeds seem to be
intimately connected with those of climate; and we should have regard
to these considerations in our geological speculations, and not draw
hasty conclusions from the absence of the remains of large herbivora in
formations disclosing a redundant vegetation.
Besides the wild sheep found on these mountains, a species of
marmot[206] (“Kardiepieu” of the Tibetans) sometimes migrates in swarms
(like the Lapland “Lemming”) from Tibet as far as Tungu. There are few
birds but red-legged crows and common ravens. Most of the insects
belonged to arctic types, and they were numerous in individuals.[207]
[206] The _Lagopus Tibetanus_ of Hodgson. I procured one that
displayed an extraordinary tenacity of life: part of the skull was
shot away, and the brain protruded; still it showed the utmost terror
at my dog.
[207] As _Meloe,_ and some flower-feeding lamellicorns. Of butterflies
I saw blues (_Polyommatus_), marbled whites, _Pontia, Colias_ and
_Argynnis._ A small _Curculio_ was frequent, and I found
_Scolopendra,_ ants and earthworms, on sunny exposures as high as
15,500 feet.
[Illustration: Tibet marmot]
The Choongtam Lama was at a small temple near Tungu during the whole of
my stay, but he would not come to visit me, pretending to be absorbed
in his devotions. Passing one day by the temple, I found him
catechising two young aspirants for holy orders. He is one of the Dukpa
sect, wore his mitre, and was seated cross-legged on the grass with his
scriptures on his knees: he put questions to the boys, when he who
answered best took the other some yards off, put him down on his hands
and knees, threw a cloth over his back, and mounted; then kicking,
spurring, and cuffing his steed, he was galloped back to the Lama and
kicked off; when the catechising recommenced.
I spent a week at Tungu most pleasantly, ascending the neighbouring
mountains, and mixing with the people, whom I found uniformly kind,
frank, and extremely hospitable; sending their children after me to
invite me to stop at their tents, smoke, and drink tea; often refusing
any remuneration, and giving my attendants curds and yak-flesh. If on
foot, I was entreated to take a pony; and when tired I never scrupled
to catch one, twist a yak-hair rope over its jaw as a bridle, and
throwing a goat-hair cloth upon its back (if no saddle were at hand),
ride away whither I would. Next morning a boy would be sent for the
steed, perhaps bringing an invitation to come and take it again. So I
became fond of brick-tea boiled with butter, salt, and soda, and expert
in the Tartar saddle; riding about perched on the shoulders of a rough
pony, with my feet nearly on a level with my pockets, and my knees
almost meeting in front.
On the 28th of July much snow fell on the hills around, as low as
14,000 feet, and half an inch of rain at Tungu;[208] the former soon
melted, and I made an excursion to Chomiomo on the following day,
hoping to reach the lower line of perpetual snow. Ascending the valley
of the Chomiochoo, I struck north up a steep slope, that ended in a
spur of vast tabular masses of quartz and felspar, piled like slabs in
a stone quarry, dipping south-west 5° to 10°, and striking north-west.
These resulted from the decomposition of gneiss, from which the layers
of mica bad been washed away, when the rain and frost splitting up the
fragments, the dislocation is continued to a great depth into the
substance of the rock.
[208] An inch and a half fell at Dorjiling during the same period.
Large silky cushions of a forget-me-not grew amongst the rocks,
spangled with beautiful blue flowers, and looking like turquoises set
in silver: the _Delphininin glaciale_[209] was also abundant, exhaling
a rank smell of musk. It indicates a very great elevation in Sikkim,
and on my ascent far above it, therefore, I was not surprised to find
water boil at 182·6° (air 43°), which gives an altitude of 16,754 feet.
[209] This new species has been described for the “Flora Indica” of
Dr. Thomson and myself: it is a remarkable plant, very closely
resembling, and as it were representing, the _D. Brunonianum_ of the
western Himalaya. The latter plant smells powerfully of musk, but not
so disagreeably as this does.
A dense fog, with sleet, shut out all view; and I did not know in what
direction to proceed higher, beyond the top of the sharp, stony ridge I
had attained. Here there was no perpetual snow, which is to be
accounted for by the nature of the surface facilitating its removal,
the edges of the rocks which project through the snow, becoming heated,
and draining off the water as it melts.
During my stay at Tungu, from the 23rd to the 30th of July, no day
passed without much deposition of moisture, but generally in so light a
form that throughout the whole time but one inch was registered in the
rain-gauge; during the same time four inches and a half of rain fell at
Dorjiling, and three inches and a half at Calcutta. The mean
temperature was 50° (max. 65°, min. 40·7°); extremes, 65/38°. The mean
range (23·3°) was thus much greater than at Dorjiling, where it was
only 8·9°. A thermometer, sunk three feet, varied only a few tenths
from 57·6°. By twenty-five comparative observations with Calcutta, 1°
Fahr. is the equivalent of every 362 feet of ascent; and twenty
comparative observations with Dorjiling give 1° for every 340 feet. The
barometer rose and fell at the same hours as at lower elevations; the
tide amounting to 0·060 inch, between 9.50 a.m. and 4 p.m.
I left Tungu on the 30th of July, and spent that night at Tallum; where
a large party of men had just arrived, with loads of madder, rice,
canes, bamboos, planks, etc., to be conveyed to Tibet on yaks and
ponies.[210] On the following day I descended to Lamteng, gathering a
profusion of fine plants by the way.
[210] About 300 loads of timber, each of six planks, are said to be
taken across the Kongra Lama pass annually; and about 250 of rice,
besides canes, madder, bamboos, cottons, cloths, and _Symplocos_
leaves for dyeing. This is, no doubt, a considerably exaggerated
statement, and may refer to both the Kongra Lama and Donkia passes.
The flat on which I had encamped at this place in May and June, being
now a marsh, I took up my abode for two days in one of the houses, and
paid the usual penalty of communication with these filthy people; for
which my only effectual remedy was boiling all my garments and bedding.
Yet the house was high, airy, and light; the walls composed of bamboo,
lath, and plaster.
Tropical Cicadas ascend to the pine-woods above Lamteng in this month,
and chirp shrilly in the heat of the day; and glow-worms fly about at
night. The common Bengal and Java toad, _Bufo scabra,_ abounded in the
marshes, a remarkable instance of wide geographical distribution, for a
Batrachian which is common at the level of the sea under the tropics.
On the 3rd of August I descended to Choongtam, which I reached on the
5th. The lakes on the Chateng flat (alt. 8,750 feet) were very full,
and contained many English water-plants;[211] the temperature of the
water was 92° near the edges, where a water-insect (_Notonecta_) was
swimming about.
[211] _Sparganium ramosum, Eleocharis palustris, Scirpus triqueter,_
and _Callitriche verna?_ Some very tropical genera ascend thus high;
as _Paspalum_ amongst grasses, and _Scleria,_ a kind of sedge.
Below this I passed an extensive stalactitic deposit of lime, and a
second occurred lower down, on the opposite side of the valley. The
apparently total absence of limestone rocks in any part of Sikkim (for
which I made careful search), renders these deposits, which are far
from unfrequent, very curious. Can the limestone, which appears in
Tibet, underlie the gneiss of Sikkim? We cannot venture to assume that
these lime-charged streams, which in Sikkim burst from the steep flanks
of narrow mountain spurs, at elevations between 1000 and 7000 feet,
have any very remote or deep origin. If the limestone be not below the
gneiss, it must either occur intercalated with it, or be the remains of
a formation now all but denuded in Sikkim.
Terrific landslips had taken place along the valley, carrying down
acres of rock, soil, and pine-forests, into the stream. I saw one from
Kampo Samdong, on the opposite flank of the valley, which swept over
100 yards in breadth of forest. I looked in vain for any signs of
scratching or scoring, at all comparable to that produced by glacial
action. The bridge at the Tuktoong, mentioned at p. 31, being carried
away, we had to ascend for 1000 feet (to a place where the river could
be crossed) by a very precipitous path, and descend on the opposite
side. In many places we had great difficulty in proceeding, the track
being obliterated by the rains, torrents, and landslips. Along the
flats, now covered with a dense rank vegetation, we waded ankle, and
often knee, deep in mud, swarming with leeches; and instead of
descending into the valley of the now too swollen Lachen, we made long
detours, rounding spurs by canes and bamboos suspended from trees.
At Choongtam the rice-fields were flooded: and the whole flat was a
marsh, covered with tropical grasses and weeds, and alive with insects,
while the shrill cries of cicadas, frogs and birds, filled the air.
Sand-flies, mosquitos, cockroaches, and enormous cockchafers,[212]
_Mantis,_ great locusts, grasshoppers, flying-bugs, crickets, ants,
spiders, caterpillars, and leeches, were but a few of the pests that
swarmed in my tent and made free with my bed. Great lazy butterflies
floated through the air; _Thecla_ and _Hesperides_ skipped about, and
the great _Nymphalidæ_ darted around like swallows. The venomous black
cobra was common, and we left the path with great caution, as it is a
lazy reptile, and lies basking in the sun; many beautiful and harmless
green snakes, four feet long, glided amongst the bushes. My dogs caught
a “Rageu,”[213] a very remarkable animal, half goat and half deer; the
flesh was good and tender, dark-coloured, and lean.
[212] _Eucerris Griffithii,_ a magnificent species. Three very
splendid insects of the outer ranges of Sikkim never occurred in the
interior: these are a gigantic Curculio (_Calandra_) a wood-borer; a
species of Goliath-beetle, _Cheirotonus Macleaii,_ and a smaller
species of the same rare family, _Trigonophorus nepalensis_; of these
the former is very scarce, the latter extremely abundant, flying about
at evenings; both are flower-feeders, eating honey and pollen. In the
summer of 1848, the months at Dorjiling were well marked by the swarms
of peculiar insects that appeared in inconceivable numbers; thus,
April was marked by a great black _Passalus,_ a beetle one-and-a-half
inch long, that flies in the face and entangles itself in the hair;
May, by stag-beetles and longicorns; June, by _Coccinella_
(lady-birds), white moths, and flying-bugs; July, by a _Dryptis?_ a
long-necked carabideous insect; August, by myriads of earwigs,
cockroaches, Goliath-beetles, and cicadas; September, by spiders.
[213] “Ragoah,” according to Hodgson: but it is not the _Procapra
picticaudata_ of Tibet.
I remained here till the 15th of August,[214] arranging my Lachen
valley collections previous to starting for the Lachoong, whence I
hoped to reach Tibet again by a different route, crossing the Donkia
pass, and thence exploring the sources of the Teesta at the Cholamoo
lakes.
[214] Though 5° further north, and 5,268 feet above the level of
Calcutta, the mean temperature at Choongtam this month was only 12·5°
cooler than at Calcutta; forty observations giving 1° Fahr. as equal
to 690 feet of elevation; whereas in May the mean of twenty-seven
observations gave 1° Fahr. as equal to 260 feet, the mean difference
of temperature being then 25°. The mean maximum of the day was 80°,
and was attained at 11 a.m., after which clouds formed, and the
thermometer fell to 66° at sunset, and 56° at night. In my blanket
tent the heat rose to upwards of 100° in calm weather. The afternoons
were generally squally and rainy.
Whilst here I ascertained the velocity of the currents of the Lachen
and Lachoong rivers. Both were torrents, than which none could be more
rapid, short of becoming cataracts: the rains were at their height, and
the melting of the snows at its maximum. I first measured several
hundred yards along the banks of each river above the bridges,
repeating this several times, as the rocks and jungle rendered it very
difficult to do it accurately: then, sitting on the bridge, I timed
floating masses of different materials and sizes that were thrown in at
the upper point. I was surprised to find the velocity of the Lachen
only nine miles per hour, for its waters seemed to shoot past with the
speed of an arrow, but the floats showed the whole stream to be so
troubled with local eddies and backwaters, that it took from
forty-three to forty-eight seconds for each float to pass over 200
yards, as it was perpetually submerged by under-currents. The breadth
of the river averaged sixty-eight feet, and the discharge was 4,420
cubic feet of water per second. The temperature was 57°.
At the Lachoong bridge the jungle was still denser, and the banks quite
inaccessible in many places. The mean velocity was eight miles an hour,
the breadth ninety-five feet, the depth about the same as that of the
Lachen, giving a discharge of 5,700 cubic feet of water per
second;[215] its temperature was also 57°. These streams retain an
extraordinary velocity, for many miles upwards; the Lachen to its
junction with the Zemu at 9000 feet, and the Zemu itself as far up as
the Thlonok, at 10,000 feet, and the Lachoong to the village of that
name, at 8000 feet: their united streams appear equally rapid till they
become the Teesta at Singtam.[216]
[215] Hence it appears that the Lachoong, being so much the more
copious stream, should in one sense be regarded as the continuation of
the Teesta, rather than the Lachen, which, however, has by far the
most distant source. Their united streams discharge upwards of 10,000
cubic feet of water per second in the height of the rains! which is,
however, a mere fraction of the discharge of the Teesta when that
river leaves the Himalaya. The Ganges at Hurdwar discharges 8000 feet
per second during the dry season.
[216] The slope of the bed of the Lachen from below the confluence of
the Zemu to the village of Singtam is 174 feet per mile, or 1 foot in
30; that of the Lachoong from the village of that name to Singtam is
considerably less.
On the 15th of August, having received supplies from Dorjiling, I
started up the north bank of the Lachoong, following the Singtam
Soubah, who accompanied me officially, and with a very bad grace; poor
fellow, he expected me to have returned with him to Singtam, and thence
gone back to Dorjiling, and many a sore struggle we had on this point.
At Choongtam he had been laid up with ulcerated legs from the bites of
leeches and sand-flies, which required my treatment. The path was
narrow, and ran through a jungle of mixed tropical and temperate
plants,[217] many of which are not found at this elevation on the damp
outer ranges of Dorjiling. We crossed to the south bank by a fine
cane-bridge forty yards long, the river being twenty-eight across and
here I have to record the loss of my dog Kinchin; the companion of all
my late journeyings, and to whom I had become really attached. He had a
bad habit, of which I had vainly tried to cure him, of running for a
few yards on the round bamboos by which the cane-bridges are crossed,
and on which it was impossible for a dog to retain his footing: in this
situation he used to get thoroughly frightened, and lie down on the
bamboos with his legs hanging over the water, and having no hold
whatever. I had several times rescued him from this perilous position,
which was always rendered more imminent from the shaking of the bridge
as I approached him. On the present occasion, I stopped at the foot of
some rocks below the bridge, botanizing, and Kinchin having scrambled
up the rocks, ran on to the bridge. I could not see him, and was not
thinking about him, when suddenly his shrill, short barks of terror
rang above the roaring torrent. I hastened to the bridge, but before I
could get to it, he had lost his footing, and had disappeared. Holding
on by the cane, I strained my eyes till the bridge seemed to be
swimming up the valley, and the swift waters to be standing still, but
to no purpose; he had been carried under at once, and swept away miles
below. For many days I missed him by my side on the mountain, and by my
feet in camp. He had become a very handsome dog, with glossy black
hair, pendent triangular ears, short muzzle, high forehead, jet-black
eyes, straight limbs, arched neck, and a most glorious tail curling
over his back.[218]
[217] As _Paris, Dipsacus, Circæa, Thalictrum, Saxifraga ciliaris,
Spiranthes, Malva, Hypoxis, Anthericum, Passiflora, Drosera,
Didymocarpus,_ poplar, _Calamagrostis,_ and _Eupatorium._
[218] The woodcut at vol. i. p. 203, gives the character of the Tibet
mastiff, to which breed his father belonged; but it is not a portrait
of himself, having been sketched from a dog of the pure breed, in the
Zoological Society’s Gardens, by C. Jenyns, Esq.
A very bad road led to the village of Keadom, situated on a flat
terrace several hundred feet above the river, and 6,609 feet above the
sea, where I spent the night. Here are cultivated plantains and maize,
although the elevation is equal to parts of Dorjiling, where these
plants do not ripen.
The river above Keadom is again crossed, by a plank bridge, at a place
where the contracted streams flow between banks forty feet high,
composed of obscurely stratified gravel, sand, and water-worn boulders.
Above this the path ascends lofty flat-topped spurs, which overhang the
river, and command some of the most beautiful scenery in Sikkim. The
south-east slopes are clothed with _Abies Brunoniana_ at 8000 feet
elevation, and cleft by a deep ravine, from which projects what appears
to be an old moraine, fully 1,500 or perhaps 2000 feet high. Extensive
landslips on its steep flank expose (through the telescope) a mass of
gravel and angular blocks, while streams cut deep channels in it.
This valley is far more open and grassy than that of the Lachen, and
the vegetation also differs much.[219] In the afternoon we reached
Lachoong, which is by far the most picturesque village in the temperate
region of Sikkim. Grassy flats of different levels, sprinkled with
brushwood and scattered clumps of pine and maple, occupy the valley;
whose west flanks rise in steep, rocky, and scantily wooded grassy
slopes. About five miles to the north the valley forks; two conspicuous
domes of snow rising from the intermediate mountains. The eastern
valley leads to lofty snowed regions, and is said to be impracticable;
the Lachoong flows down the western, which appeared rugged, and covered
with pine woods. On the east, Tunkra mountain[220] rises in a superb
unbroken sweep of dark pine-wood and cliffs, surmounted by black rocks
and white fingering peaks of snow. South of this, the valley of the
Tunkrachoo opens, backed by sharp snowed pinnacles, which form the
continuation of the Chola range; over which a pass leads to the Phari
district of Tibet, which intervenes between Sikkim and Bhotan.
Southwards the view is bounded by snowy mountains, and the valley seems
blocked up by the remarkable moraine-like spur which I passed above
Keadom.
[219] _Umbelliferæ_ and _Compositæ_ abound, and were then flowering;
and an orchis (_Satyrium Nepalense_), scented like our English
_Gymnadenia,_ covered the ground in some places, with tall green
_Habenariæ_ and a yellow _Spathoglottis,_ a genus with pseudo-bulbs.
Of shrubs, _Xanthoxylon, Rhus, Prinsepia, Cotoneaster, Pyrus,_ poplar
and oak, formed thickets along the path; while there were as many as
eight and nine kinds of balsams, some eight feet high.
[220] This mountain is seen from Dorjiling; its elevation is about
18,700 feet.
[Illustration: Lachoong valley and village, looking south]
Stupendous moraines rise 1,500 feet above the Lachoong in several
concentric series, curving downwards and outwards, so as to form a
bell-shaped mouth to the valley of the Tunkrachoo. Those on the upper
flank are much the largest; and the loftiest of them terminates in a
conical hill crowned with Boodhist flags, and its steep sides cut into
horizontal roads or terraces, one of which is so broad and flat as to
suggest the idea of its having been cleared by art.
[Illustration: Lofty ancient moraines in the Lachoong valley, looking
south-east]
On the south side of the Tunkrachoo river the moraines are also more or
less terraced, as is the, floor of the Lachoong valley, and its east
slopes, 1000 feet up.[221]
[221] I have since been greatly struck with the similarity between the
features of this valley, and those of Chamouni (though the latter is
on a smaller scale) above the Lavanchi moraine. The spectator standing
in the expanded part below the village of Argentiere, and looking
upwards, sees the valley closed above by the ancient moraine of the
Argentiere glacier, and below by that of Lavanchi; and an all sides
the slopes are cut into terraces, strewed with boulders. I found
traces of stratified pebbles and sand on the north flank of the
Lavanchi moraine however, which I failed to discover in those of
Lachoong. The average slope of these pine-clad Sikkim valleys much
approximates to that of Chamouni, and never approaches the precipitous
character of the Bernese Alps’ valleys, Kandersteg, Lauterbrunnen, and
Grindelwald.
The river is fourteen yards broad, and neither deep nor rapid: the
village is on the east bank, and is large for Sikkim; it contains fully
100 good wooden houses, raised on posts, and clustered together without
order. It was muddy and intolerably filthy, and intersected by some
small streams, whose beds formed the roads, and, at the same time, the
common sewers of the natives. There is some wretched cultivation in
fields,[222] of wheat, barley, peas, radishes, and turnips. Rice was
once cultivated at this elevation (8000 feet), but the crop was
uncertain; some very tropical grasses grow wild here, as _Eragrostis_
and _Panicum._ In gardens the hollyhock is seen: it is said to be
introduced through Tibet from China; also _Pinus excelsa_ from Bhotan,
peaches, walnuts, and weeping willows. A tall poplar was pointed out to
me as a great wonder; it had two species of _Pyrus_ growing on its
boughs, evidently from seed; one was a mountain ash, the other like
_Pyrus Aria._
[222] Full of such English weeds as shepherd’s purse, nettles,
_Solanum nigrum,_ and dock; besides many Himalayan ones, as balsams,
thistles, a beautiful geranium, mallow, _Haloragis_ and Cucurbitaceous
plants.
Soon after camping, the Lachoong Phipun, a very tall, intelligent, and
agreeable looking man, waited on me with the usual presents, and a
request that I would visit his sick father. His house was lofty and
airy: in the inner room the sick man was stretched on a board, covered
with a blanket, and dying of pressure on the brain; he was surrounded
by a deputation of Lamas from Teshoo Loombo, sent for in this
emergency. The principal one was a fat fellow, who sat cross-legged
before a block-printed Tibetan book, plates of raw meat, rice, and
other offerings, and the bells, dorje, etc. of his profession. Others
sat around, reading or chanting services, and filling the room with
incense. At one end of the apartment was a good library in a
beautifully carved book-case.
[Illustration: Head and feet of Tibet marmot]