Doomree -- Vegetation of table-land -- Lieutenant Beadle -- Birds --
Hot springs of Soorujkoond -- Plants near them -- Shells in them --
Cholera-tree -- Olibanum -- Palms, form of -- Dunwah Pass -- Trees,
native and planted -- Wild peacock -- Poppy fields -- Geography and
geology of Behar and Central India -- Toddy-palm -- Ground,
temperature of -- Barroon -- Temperature of plants -- Lizard -- Cross
the Soane -- Sand, ripple marks on -- Kymore hills -- Ground,
temperature of -- Limestone -- Rotas fort and palace -- Nitrate of
lime -- Change of climate -- Lime stalagmites, enclosing leaves --
Fall of Soane -- Spiders, etc. -- Scenery and natural history of
upper Soane valley -- _Hardwickia binata_ -- Bhel fruit --
Dust-storm -- Alligator -- Catechu -- _Cochlospermum_ --
Leaf-bellows -- Scorpions -- Tortoises -- Florican -- Limestone
spheres -- Coles -- Tiger-hunt -- Robbery.
In the evening we returned to our tamarind tree, and the next morning
regained the trunk road, following it to the dawk bungalow of
Doomree. On the way I found the _Caesalpinia paniculuta,_ a
magnificent climber, festooning the trues with its dark glossy
foliage and gorgeous racemes of orange blossoms. Receding from the
mountain, the country again became barren: at Doomree the hills were
of crystalline rocks, chiefly quartz and gneiss; no palms or large
trees of any kind appeared. The spear-grass abounded, and a
detestable nuisance it was, its long awns and husked seed working
through trowsers and stockings.
_Balanites_ was not uncommon, forming a low thorny bush, with
_Aegle marmelos_ and _Feronia elephantum._ Having rested
the tired elephant, we pushed on in the evening to the next stage,
Baghoda, arriving there at 3 a.m., and after a few hours' rest, I
walked to the bungalow of Lieutenant Beadle, the surveyor of roads,
sixteen miles further.
The country around Baghoda is still very barren, but improves
considerably in going westward, the ground becoming hilly, and the
road winding through prettily wooded vallies, and rising gradually to
1446 feet. _Nauclea cordifolia,_ a tree resembling a young
sycamore, is very common; with the Semul (_Bombax_), a very
striking tree from its buttressed trunk and gaudy scarlet flowers,
swarming with birds, which feed from its honeyed blossoms.
At 10 a.m. the sun became uncomfortably hot, the thermometer being
77 degrees, and the black-bulb thermometer 137 degrees. I had lost my
hat, and possessed no substitute but a silken nightcap; so I had to
tie a handkerchief over my head, to the astonishment of the
passers-by. Holding my head down, I had little source of amusement
but reading the foot-marks on the road; and these were strangely
diversified to an English eye. Those of the elephant, camel, buffalo
and bullock, horse, ass, pony, dog, goat, sheep and kid, lizard,
wild-cat and pigeon, with men, women, and children's feet, naked and
shod, were all recognisable.
It was noon ere I arrived at Lieutenant Beadle's, at Belcuppee (alt.
1219 feet), glad enough of the hearty welcome I received, being very
hot, dusty, and hungry. The country about his bungalow is very
pretty, from the number of wooded hills and large trees, especially
of banyan and peepul, noble oak-like Mahowa (_Bassia_), _Nauclea,_
Mango, and _Ficus infectoria._ These are all scattered, however, and
do not form forest, such as in a stunted form clothes the hills,
consisting of _Diospyros, Terminalia, Gmelina, Nauclea parvifolia,
Buchanania,_ etc. The rocks are still hornblende-schist and granite,
with a covering of alluvium, full of quartz pebbles. Insects and
birds are numerous, the latter consisting of jays, crows, doves,
sparrows, and maina (_Pastor_); also the _Phoenicophaus tristis_
("Mahoka" of the natives), with a note like that of the English
cuckoo, as heard late in the season.
I remained two days with Lieutenant Beadle, enjoying in his society
several excursions to the hot springs, etc. These springs (called
Soorujkoond) are situated close to the road, near the mouth of a
valley, in a remarkably pretty spot. They are, of course, objects of
worship; and a ruined temple stands close behind them, with three
very conspicuous trees--a peepul, a banyan, and a white,
thick-stemmed, leafless _Sterculia,_ whose branches bore dense
clusters of greenish foetid flowers. The hot springs are four in
number, and rise in as many ruined brick tanks about two yards
across. Another tank, fed by a cold spring, about twice that size,
flows between two of the hot, only two or three paces distant from
one of the latter on either hand. All burst through the gneiss rocks,
meet in one stream after a few yards, and are conducted by bricked
canals to a pool of cold water, about eighty yards off.
The temperatures of the hot springs were respectively 169 degrees,
170 degrees, 173 degrees, and 190 degrees; of the cold, 84 degrees at
4 p.m., and 75 degrees at 7 a.m. the following morning. The hottest
is the middle of the five. The water of the cold spring is sweet but
not good, and emits gaseous bubbles; it was covered with a green
floating _Conferva._ Of the four hot springs, the most copious
is about three feet deep, bubbles constantly, boils eggs, and though
brilliantly clear, has an exceedingly nauseous taste. This and the
other warm ones cover the bricks and surrounding rocks with a thick
incrustation of salts.
_Confervae_ abound in the warm stream from the springs, and two
species, one ochreous brown, and the other green, occur on the
margins of the tanks themselves, and in the hottest water; the brown
is the best Salamander, and forms a belt in deeper water than the
green; both appear in broad luxuriant strata, wherever the temp. is
cooled down to 168 degrees, and as low as 90 degrees. Of flowering
plants, three showed in an eminent degree a constitution capable of
resisting the heat, if not a predilection for it; these were all
_Cyperaceae,_ a _Cyperus_ and an _Eleocharis,_ having their roots in
water of 100 degrees, and where they are probably exposed to greater
heat, and a _Fimbristylis_ at 98 degrees; all were very luxuriant.
From the edges of the four hot springs I gathered sixteen species of
flowering plants, and from the cold tank five, which did not grow in
the hot. A water-beetle, _Colymbetes_(?) and _Notonecta,_ abounded in
water at 112 degrees, with quantities of dead shells; frogs were very
lively, with live shells, at 90 degrees, and with various other water
beetles. Having no means of detecting the salts of this water, I
bottled some for future analysis.* [For an account of the
_Confervae,_ and of the mineral constituents of the waters, etc. see
Appendix B.]
On the following day I botanized in the neighbourhood, with but poor
success. An oblique-leaved fig climbs the other trees, and generally
strangles them: two epiphytal _Orchideae_ also occur on the latter,
_Vanda Roxburghii_ and an _Oberonia._ Dodders (_Cuscuta_) of two
species, and _Cassytha,_ swarm over and conceal the bushes with their
yellow thread-like stems.
I left Belcuppee on the 8th of February, following Mr. Williams'
camp. The morning was clear and cold, the temperature only 56
degrees. We crossed the nearly dry broad bed of the Burkutta river, a
noble stream during the rains, carrying along huge boulders of
granite and gneiss. Near this I passed the Cholera-tree, a famous
peepul by the road side, so called from a detachment of infantry
having been attacked and decimated at the spot by that fell disease;
it is covered with inscriptions and votive tokens in the shape of
rags, etc. We continued to ascend to 1360 feet, where I came upon a
small forest of the Indian Olibanum (_Boswellia thurifera_),
conspicuous from its pale bark, and spreading curved branches, leafy
at their tips; its general appearance is a good deal like that of the
mountain ash. The gum, celebrated throughout the East, was flowing
abundantly from the trunk, very fragrant and transparent. The ground
was dry, sterile, and rocky; kunker, the curious formation mentioned
at Chapter 1, appears in the alluvium, which I had not elsewhere seen
at this elevation.
Descending to the village of Burshoot, we lost sight of the
_Boswellia,_ and came upon a magnificent tope of mango, banyan,
and peepul, so far superior to anything hitherto met with, that we
were glad to choose such a pleasant halting-place for breakfast.
There are a few lofty fan-palms here too, great rarities in this soil
and elevation: one, about eighty feet high, towered above some
wretched hovels, displaying the curious proportions of this tribe of
palms: first, a short cone, tapering to one-third the height of the
stem, the trunk then swelling to two-thirds, and again tapering to
the crown. Beyond this, the country again ascends to Burree (alt.
1169 feet), another dawk bungalow, a barren place, which we left on
the following morning.
So little was there to observe, that I again amused myself by
watching footsteps, the precision of which in the sandy soil was
curious. Looking down from the elephant, I was interested by seeing
them all in _relief,_ instead of _depressed,_ the slanting
rays of the sun in front producing this kind of mirage. Before us
rose no more of those wooded hills that had been our companions for
the last 120 miles, the absence of which was a sign of the nearly
approaching termination of the great hilly plateau we had been
traversing for that distance.
Chorparun, at the top of the Dunwah pass, is situated on an extended
barren flat, 1320 feet above the sea, and from it the descent from
the table-land to the level of the Soane valley, a little above that
of the Ganges at Patna, is very sudden. The road is carried zizgag
down a rugged hill of gneiss, with a descent of nearly 1000 feet in
six miles, of which 600 are exceedingly steep. The pass is well
wooded, with abundance of bamboo, _Bombax, Cassia, Acacia,_ and
_Butea,_ with _Calotropis,_ the purple Mudar, a very handsome
road-side plant, which I had not seen before, but which, with the
_Argemone Mexicana,_ was to be a companion for hundreds of miles
farther. All the views in the pass are very picturesque, though
wanting in good foliage, such as _Ficus_ would afford, of which I did
not see one tree. Indeed the rarity of the genus (except
_F. infectoria_) in the native woods of these hills, is very
remarkable. The banyan and peepul always appear to be planted, as do
the tamarind and mango.
Dunwah, at the foot of the pass, is 620 feet above the sea, and
nearly 1000 below the mean level of the highland I had been
traversing. Every thing bears here a better aspect; the woods at
the foot of the hills afforded many plants; the bamboo
(_B. stricta_) is green instead of yellow and white; a little
castor-oil is cultivated, and the Indian date (low and stunted)
appears about the cottages.
In the woods I heard and saw the wild peacock for the first time.
Its voice is not to be distinguished from that of the tame bird in
England, a curious instance of the perpetuation of character under
widely different circumstances, for the crow of the wild jungle-fowl
does not rival that of the farm-yard cock.
In the evening we left Dunwah for Barah (alt. 480 feet), passing over
very barren soil, covered with low jungle, the original woods having
apparently been cut for fuel. Our elephant, a timid animal, came on a
drove of camels in the dark by the road-side, and in his alarm
insisted on doing battle, tearing through the thorny jungle,
regardless of the mahout, and still more of me: the uproar raised by
the camel-drivers was ridiculous, and the danger to my barometer
imminent.
We proceeded on the 11th of February to Sheergotty, where Mr.
Williams and his camp were awaiting our arrival. Wherever cultivation
appeared the crops were tolerably luxuriant, but a great deal of the
country yielded scarcely half-a-dozen kinds of plants to any ten
square yards of ground. The most prevalent were _Carissa carandas,
Olax scandens,_ two _Zizyphi,_ and the ever-present _Acacia
Catechu._ The climate is, however, warmer and much moister, for I
here observed dew to be formed, which I afterwards found to be usual
on the low grounds. That its presence is due to the increased amount
of vapour in the atmosphere I shall prove: the amount of radiation,
as shown by the cooling of the earth and vegetation, being the same
in the elevated plain and lower levels.* [See Appendix C.]
The good soil was very richly cultivated with poppy (which I had not
seen before), sugar-cane, wheat, barley, mustard, rape, and flax.
At a distance a field of poppies looks like a green lake, studded
with white water-lilies. The houses, too, are better, and have tiled
roofs; while, in such situations, the road is lined with trees.
A retrospect of the ground passed over is unsatisfactory, as far as
botany is concerned, except as showing how potent are the effects of
a dry soil and climate during one season of the year upon a
vegetation which has no desert types. During the rains probably many
more species would be obtained, for of annuals I scarcely found
twenty. At that season, however, the jungles of Behar and Birbhoom,
though far from tropically luxuriant, are singularly unhealthy.
In a geographical point of view the range of hills between Burdwan
and the Soave is interesting, as being the north-east continuation of
a chain which crosses the broadest part of the peninsula of India,
from the Gulf of Cambay to the junction of the Ganges and Hoogly at
Rajmahal. This range runs south of the Soane and Kymore, which it
meets I believe at Omerkuntuk;* [A lofty mountain said to be
7000-8000 feet high.] the granite of this and the sandstone of the
other, being there both overlaid with trap. Further west again, the
ranges separate, the southern still betraying a nucleus of granite,
forming the Satpur range, which divides the valley of the Taptee from
that of the Nerbudda. The Paras-nath range is, though the most
difficult of definition, the longer of the two parallel ranges;
the Vindhya continued as the Kymore, terminating abruptly at the Fort
of Chunar on the Ganges. The general and geological features of the
two, especially along their eastern course, are very different.
This consists of metamorphic gneiss, in various highly inclined beds,
through which granite hills protrude, the loftiest of which is
Paras-nath. The north-east Vindhya (called Kymore), on the other
hand, consists of nearly horizontal beds of sandstone, overlying
inclined beds of non-fossiliferous limestone. Between the latter and
the Paras-nath gneiss, come (in order of superposition) shivered and
undulating strata of metamorphic quartz, hornstone, hornstone-
porphyry, jaspers, etc. These are thrown up, by greenstone I believe,
along the north and north-west boundary of the gneiss range, and are
to be recognised as forming the rocks of Colgong, of Sultangunj, and
of Monghyr, on the Ganges, as also various detached hills near Gyah,
and along the upper course of the Soane. From these are derived the
beautiful agates and cornelians, so famous under the name of Soane
pebbles, and they are equally common on the Curruckpore range, as on
the south bank of the Soane, so much so in the former position as to
have been used in the decoration of the walls of the now ruined
palaces near Bhagulpore.
In the route I had taken, I had crossed the eastern extremity alone
of the range, commencing with a very gradual ascent, over the
alluvial plains of the west bank of the Hoogly, then over laterite,
succeeded by sandstone of the Indian coal era, which is succeeded by
the granite table-land, properly so called. A little beyond the coal
fields, the table-land reaches an average height of 1130 feet, which
is continued for upwards of 100 miles, to the Dunwah pass. Here the
descent is sudden to plains, which, continuous with those of the
Ganges, run up the Soane till beyond Rotasghur. Except for the
occasional ridges of metamorphic rocks mentioned above, and some
hills of intruded greenstone, the lower plain is stoneless, its
subjacent rocks being covered with a thicker stratum of the same
alluvium which is thinly spread over the higher table-land above.
This range is of great interest from its being the source of many
important rivers,* [The chief rivers from this, the great watershed
of western Bengal, flow north-west and south-east; a few
comparatively insignificant streams running north to the Ganges.
Amongst the former are the Rheru, the Kunner, and the Coyle, which
contribute to the Soane; amongst the latter, the Dammooda, Adji, and
Barakah, flow into the Hoogly, and the Subunrika, Braminee, and
Mahanuddee into the Bay of Bengal.] and of all those which water the
country between the Soane, Hoogly, and Ganges, as well as from its
deflecting the course of the latter river, which washes its base at
Rajmahal, and forcing it to take a sinuous course to the sea. In its
climate and botany it differs equally from the Gangetic plains to the
north, and from the hot, damp, and exuberant forests of Orissa to the
south. Nor are its geological features less different, or its
concomitant and in part resultant characters of agriculture and
native population. Still further west, the great rivers of the
peninsula have their origin, the Nerbudda and Taptee flowing west to
the gulf of Cambay, the Cane to the Jumna, the Soane to the Ganges,
and the northern feeders of the Godavery to the Bay of Bengal.
On the 12th of February, we left Sheergotty (alt. 463 feet), crossing
some small streams, which, like all else seen since leaving the
Dunwah Pass, flow N. to the Ganges. Between Sheergotty and the Soane,
occur many of the isolated hills of greenstone, mentioned above,
better known to the traveller from having been telegraphic stations.
Some are much impregnated with iron, and whether for their colour,
the curious outlines of many, or their position, form quaint, and in
some cases picturesque features in the otherwise tame landscape.
The road being highly cultivated, and the Date-palm becoming more
abundant, we encamped in a grove of these trees. All were curiously
distorted; the trunks growing zigzag, from the practice of yearly
tapping the alternate sides for toddy. The incision is just below the
crown, and slopes upwards and inwards: a vessel is hung below the
wound, and the juice conducted into it by a little piece of bamboo.
This operation spoils the fruit, which, though eaten, is small, and
much inferior to the African date.
At Mudunpore (alt. 440 feet) a thermometer, sunk 3 feet 4 inches in
the soil, maintained a constant temperature of 71.5 degrees, that of
the air varying from 77.5 degrees, at 3 p.m., to 62 at daylight the
following morning; when we moved on to Nourunga (alt. 340 feet),
where I bored to 3 feet 8 inches with a heavy iron jumper through an
alluvium of such excessive tenacity, that eight natives were employed
for four hours in the operation. In both this and another hole,
4 feet 8 inches, the temperature was 72 degrees at 10 p.m.; and on
the following morning 71.5 degrees in the deepest hole, and
70 degrees in the shallower: that of the external air varied from
71 degrees at 3 p.m., to 57 degrees at daylight on the following
morning. At the latter time I took the temperature of the earth near
the surface, which showed, surface 53 degrees, 1 inch 57 degrees,
2 inches 58 degrees, 4 inches 62 degrees, 7 inches 64 degrees.
The following day we marched to Baroon (alt. 345 feet) on the
alluvial banks of the Soane, crossing a deep stream by a pretty
suspension bridge, of which the piers were visible two miles off, so
level is the road. The Soane is here three miles wide, its nearly dry
bed being a desert of sand, resembling a vast arm of the sea when the
tide is out: the banks are very barren, with no trees near, and but
very few in the distance. The houses were scarcely visible on the
opposite side, behind which the Kymore mountains rise. The Soane is a
classical river, being now satisfactorily identified with the
Eranoboas of the ancients.* [The etymology of Eranoboas is
undoubtedly _Hierrinia Vahu_ (Sanskrit), the golden-armed.
Sons is also the Sanskrit for gold. The stream is celebrated for its
agates (Soane pebbles), which are common, but gold is not now
obtained from it.]
The alluvium is here cut into a cliff, ten or twelve feet above the
bed of the river, and against it the sand is blown in naked
_dunes._ At 2 p.m., the surface-sand was heated to 110 degrees
where sheltered from the wind, and 104 degrees in the open bed of the
river. To compare the rapidity and depth to which the heat is
communicated by pure sand, and by the tough alluvium, I took the
temperature at some inches depth in both. That the alluvium absorbs
the heat better, and retains it longer, would appear from the
following, the only observations I could make, owing to the tenacity
of the soil.
2 p.m.
Surface 104 degrees
22.5 inches 93 degrees
5 inches 88 degrees
Sand at this depth 78 degrees.
5 a.m.
Surface 51 degrees
28 inches 68 degrees
Finding the fresh milky juice of _Calotropis_ to be only
72 degrees, I was curious to ascertain at what depth this
temperature was to be obtained in the sand of the river-bed, where
the plant grew.
Surface 104.5 degrees,
1 inch 102 degrees,
2 inches 94 degrees,
2.5 inches 90 degrees,
3.5 inches 85 degrees (Compact),
8 inches 73 degrees (Wet),
15 inches 72 degrees (Wet).
The power this plant exercises of maintaining a low temperature of 72
degrees, though the main portion which is subterraneous is surrounded
by a soil heated to between 90 degrees and 104 degrees, is very
remarkable, and no doubt proximately due to the rapidity of
evaporation from the foliage, and consequent activity in the
circulation. Its exposed leaves maintained a temperature of 80
degrees, nearly 25 degrees cooler than the similarly exposed sand and
alluvium. On the same night the leaves were cooled down to 54
degrees, when the sand had cooled to 51 degrees. Before daylight the
following morning the sand had cooled to 43 degrees, and the leaves
of the _Calotropis_ to 45.5 degrees. I omitted to observe the
temperature of the sap at the latter time; but the sand at the same
depth (15 inches) as that at which its temperature and that of the
plant agreed at mid-day, was 68 degrees. And assuming this to be the
heat of the plant, we find that the leaves are heated by solar
radiation during the day 8 degrees, and cooled by nocturnal
radiation, 22.5 degrees.
Mr. Theobald (my companion in this and many other rambles) pulled a
lizard from a hole in the bank. Its throat was mottled with scales of
brown and yellow. Three ticks had fastened on it, each of a size
covering three or four scales: the first was yellow, corresponding
with the yellow colour of the animal's belly, where it lodged, the
second brown, from the lizard's head; but the third, which was
clinging to the parti-coloured scales of the neck, had its body
parti-coloured, the hues corresponding with the individual scales
which they covered. The adaptation of the two first specimens in
colour to the parts to which they adhered, is sufficiently
remarkable; but the third case was most extraordinary.
During the night of the 14th of February, I observed a beautiful
display, apparently of the Aurora borealis, an account of which will
be found in the Appendix.
_February_ 15.--Our passage through the Soane sands was very
tedious, though accomplished in excellent style, the elephants
pushing forward the heavy waggons of mining tools with their
foreheads. The wheels were sometimes buried to the axles in sand, and
the draught bullocks were rather in the way than otherwise.
The body of water over which we ferried, was not above 80 yards wide.
In the rains, when the whole space of three miles is one rapid flood,
10 or 12 feet deep, charged with yellow sand, this river must present
an imposing spectacle. I walked across the dry portion, observing the
sand-waves, all ranged in one direction, perpendicular to that of the
prevailing wind, accurately representing the undulations of the
ocean, as seen from a mast-head or high cliff. As the sand was finer
or coarser, so did the surface resemble a gentle ripple, or an
ocean-swell. The progressive motion of the waves was curious, and
caused by the lighter particles being blown over the ridges, and
filling up the hollows to leeward. There were a few islets in the
sand, a kind of oases of mud and clay, in laminae no thicker than
paper, and these were at once denizened by various weeds. Some large
spots were green with wheat and barley-crops, both suffering
from smut.
We encamped close to the western shore, at the village of Dearee
(alt. 330 feet); it marks the termination of the Kymore Hills, along
whose S.E. bases our course now lay, as we here quitted the grand
trunk road for a rarely visited country.
On the 16th we marched south up the river to Tilotho (alt. 395 feet),
through a rich and highly cultivated country, covered with indigo,
cotton, sugar-cane, safflower, castor-oil, poppy, and various grains.
Dodders (_Cuscuta_) covered even tall trees with a golden web,
and the _Capparis acuminata_ was in full flower along the road
side. Tilotho, a beautiful village, is situated in a superb grove of
Mango, Banyan, Peepul, Tamarind, and _Bassia._ The Date or
toddy-palm and fan-palm are very abundant and tall: each had a pot
hung under the crown. The natives climb these trunks with a hoop or
cord round the body and both ancles, and a bottle-gourd or other
vessel hanging round the neck to receive the juice from the
stock-bottle, in this aerial wine-cellar. These palms were so lofty
that the climbers, as they paused in their ascent to gaze with wonder
at our large retinue, resembled monkeys rather than men. Both trees
yield a toddy, but in this district they stated that that from the
_Phoenix_ (Date) alone ferments, and is distilled; while in
other parts of India, the _Borassus_ (fan-palm) is chiefly
employed. I walked to the hills, over a level cultivated country
interspersed with occasional belts of low wood; in which the pensile
nests of the weaver-bird were abundant, but generally hanging out of
reach, in prickly _Acacias._
The hills here present a straight precipitous wall of horizontally
stratified sandstone, very like the rocks at the Cape of Good Hope,
with occasionally a shallow valley, and a slope of debris at the
base, densely clothed with dry jungle. The cliffs are about 1000 feet
high, and the plants similar to those at the foot of Paras-nath, but
stunted: I climbed to the top, the latter part by steps or ledges of
sandstone. The summit was clothed with long grass, trees of
_Diospyros_ and _Terminalia,_ and here and there the
_Boswellia._ On the precipitous rocks the curious white-barked
_Sterculia foetida_ "flung its arms abroad," leafless, and
looking as if blasted by lightning.
A hole was sunk here again for the thermometers, and, as usual, with
great labour; the temperatures obtained were--
Air.
9 p.m. 64.5 degrees
5.30 a.m. 58.5 degrees
4 feet 6 inches, under good shade of trees
9 p.m. 77 degrees
11 p.m. 76 degrees
5.30 a.m. 76 degrees
This is a very great rise (of 4 degrees) above any of those
previously obtained, and certainly indicates a much higher mean
temperature of the locality. I can only suppose it due to the
radiation of heat from the long range of sandstone cliff, exposed to
the south, which overlooks the flat whereon we were encamped, and
which, though four or five miles off, forms a very important feature.
The differences of temperature in the shade taken on this and the
other side of the river are 2.75 degrees higher on this side.
On the 17th we marched to Akbarpore (alt. 400. feet), a village
overhung by the rocky precipice of Rotasghur, a spur of the Kymore,
standing abruptly forward.
The range, in proceeding up the Soane valley, gradually approaches
the river, and beds of non-fossiliferous limestone are seen
protruding below the sandstone and occasionally rising into rounded
hills, the paths upon which appear as white as do those through the
chalk districts of England. The overlying beds of sandstone are
nearly horizontal, or with a dip to the N.W.; the subjacent ones of
limestone dip at a greater angle. Passing between the river and a
detached conical hill of limestone, capped with a flat mass of
sandstone, the spur of Rotas broke suddenly on the view, and very
grand it was, quite realising my anticipations of the position of
these eyrie-like hill-forts of India. To the left of the spur winds
the valley of the Soane, with low-wooded hills on its opposite bank,
and a higher range, connected with that of Behar, in the distance.
To the right, the hills sweep round, forming an immense and
beautifully wooded amphitheatre, about four miles deep, bounded with
a continuation of the escarpment. At the foot of the crowned spur is
the village of Akbarpore, where we encamped in a Mango tope;* [On the
24th of June, 1848, the Soane rose to an unprecedented height, and
laid this grove of Mangos three feet under water.] it occupies some
pretty undulating limestone hills, amongst which several streams flow
from the amphitheatre to the Soane.
During our two days' stay here, I had the advantage of the society of
Mr. C. E. Davis, who was our guide during some rambles in the
neighbourhood, and to whose experience, founded on the best habits of
observation, I am indebted for much information. At noon we started
to ascend to the palace, on the top of the spur. On the way we passed
a beautiful well, sixty feet deep, and with a fine flight of steps to
the bottom. Now neglected and overgrown with flowering weeds and
creepers, it afforded me many of the plants I had only previously
obtained in a withered state; it was curious to observe there some of
the species of the hill-tops, whose seeds doubtless are scattered
abundantly over the surrounding plains, and only vegetate where they
find a coolness and moisture resembling that of the altitude they
elsewhere affect. A fine fig-tree growing out of the stone-work
spread its leafy green branches over the well mouth, which was about
twelve feet square; its roots assumed a singular form, enveloping two
sides of the walls with a beautiful net-work, which at _high-water
mark_ (rainy season), abruptly divides into thousands of little
brushes, dipping into the water which they fringe. It was a pretty
cool place to descend to, from a temperature of 80 degrees above, to
74 degrees at the bottom, where the water was 60 degrees; and most
refreshing to look, either up the shaft to the green fig shadowing
the deep profound, or along the sloping steps through a vista of
flowering herbs and climbing plants, to the blue heaven of a
burning sky.
The ascent to Rotas is over the dry hills of limestone, covered with
a scrubby brushwood, to a crest where are the first rude and ruined
defences. The limestone is succeeded by the sandstone cliff cut into
steps, which led from ledge to ledge and gap to gap, well guarded
with walls and an archway of solid masonry. Through this we passed on
to the flat summit of the Kymore hills, covered with grass and
forest, intersected by paths in all directions. The ascent is about
1200 feet--a long pull in the blazing sun of February. The turf
consists chiefly of spear-grass and _Andropogon muricatus,_ the
kus-kus, which yields a favourite fragrant oil, used as a medicine in
India. The trees are of the kinds mentioned before. A pretty
octagonal summer-house, with its roof supported by pillars, occupies
one of the highest points of the plateau, and commands a superb view
of the scenery before described. From this a walk of three miles
leads through the woods to the palace. The buildings are very
extensive, and though now ruinous, bear evidence of great beauty in
the architecture: light galleries, supported by slender columns, long
cool arcades, screened squares and terraced walks, are the principal
features. The rooms open out upon flat roofs, commanding views of the
long endless table-land to the west, and a sheer precipice of 1000
feet on the other side, with the Soane, the amphitheatre of hills,
and the village of Akbarpore below.
This and Beejaghur, higher up the Soane, were amongst the most
recently reduced forts, and this was further the last of those
wrested from Baber in 1542. Some of the rooms are still habitable,
but the greater part are ruinous, and covered with climbers, both of
wild flowers and of the naturalised garden plants of the adjoining
shrubbery; the _Arbor-tristis,_ with _Hibiscus, Abutilon,_
etc., and above all, the little yellow-flowered _Linaria
ramosissima,_ crawling over every ruined wall, as we see the
walls of our old English castles clothed with its congener
_L. Cymbalaria._
In the old dark stables I observed the soil to be covered with a
copious evanescent efflorescence of nitrate of lime, like soap-suds
scattered about.
I made Rotas Palace 1490 feet above the sea, so that this table-land
is here only fifty feet higher than that I had crossed on the grand
trunk road, before descending at the Dunwah pass. Its mean
temperature is of course considerably (4 degrees) below that of the
valley, but though so cool, agues prevail after the rains.
The extremes of temperature are less marked than in the valley, which
becomes excessively heated, and where hot winds sometimes last for a
week, blowing in furious gusts.
The climate of the whole neighbourhood has of late changed
materially; and the fall of rain has much diminished, consequent on
felling the forests; even within six years the hail-storms have been
far less frequent and violent. The air on the hills is highly
electrical, owing, no doubt, to the dryness of the atmosphere, and to
this the frequent recurrence of hail-storms may be due.
The zoology of these regions is tolerably copious, but little is
known of the natural history of a great part of the plateau; a native
tribe, prone to human sacrifices, is talked of. Tigers are common,
and bears are numerous; they have, besides, the leopard, panther,
viverine cat, and civet; and of the dog tribe the pariah, jackal,
fox, and wild dog, called Koa. Deer are very numerous, of six or
seven kinds. A small alligator inhabits the hill streams, said to be
a very different animal from either of the Soane species.
During our descent we examined several instances of ripple-mark
(fossil waves' footsteps) in the sandstone; they resembled the
fluting of the _Sigillaria_ stems, in the coal-measures, and
occurring as they did here, in sandstone, a little above great beds
of limestone, had been taken for such, and as indications of coal.
On the following day we visited Rajghat, a steep ghat or pass leading
up the cliff to Rotas Palace, a little higher up the river. We took
the elephants to the mouth of the glen, where we dismounted, and
whence we followed a stream abounding in small fish and aquatic
insects (_Dytisci_ and _Gyrini_), through a close jungle,
to the foot of the cliffs, where there are indications of coal.
The woods were full of monkeys, and amongst other plants I observed
_Murraya exotica,_ but it was scarce. Though the jungle was so
dense, the woods were very dry, containing no Palm, _Adroideae,_
Peppers, _Orchideae_ or Ferns. Here, at the foot of the red
cliffs, which towered imposingly above, as seen through the tree
tops, are several small seams of coaly matter in the sandstone, with
abundance of pyrites, sulphur, and copious efflorescences of salts of
iron; but no coal. The springs from the cliffs above are charged with
lime, of which enormous tuff beds are deposited on the sandstone,
full of impressions of the leaves and stems of the surrounding trees,
which, however, I found it very difficult to recognize, and could not
help contrasting this circumstance with the fact that geologists,
unskilled in botany, see no difficulty in referring equally imperfect
remains of extinct vegetables to existing genera. In some parts of
their course the streams take up quantities of the efflorescence,
which they scatter over the sandstones in a singular manner.
At Akbarpore I had sunk two thermometers, one 4 feet 6 inches, the
other 5 feet 6 inches; both invariably indicated 76 degrees, the air
varying from 56 degrees to 79.5 degrees. Dew had formed every night
since leaving Dunwah, the grass being here cooled 12 degrees below
the air.
On the 19th of February we marched up the Soane to Tura, passing some
low hills of limestone, between the cliffs of the Kymore and the
river. On the shaded riverbanks grew abundance of English genera--
_Cynoglossum, Veronica, Potentilla, Ranunculus sceleratus, Rumex,_
several herbaceous _Compositae_ and _Labiatae_; _Tamarix_ formed a
small bush in rocky hillocks in the bed of the river, and in pools
were several aquatic plants, _Zannichellia, Chara,_ a pretty little
_Vallisneria,_ and _Potamogeton._ The Brahminee goose was common
here, and we usually saw in the morning immense flocks of wild geese
overhead, migrating northward.
Here I tried again the effect of solar and nocturnal radiation on the
sand, at different depths, not being able to do so on the alluvium.
Noon:
Temperature of air 87 degrees
Surface 110 degrees
1 inch 102 degrees
2 inches 93.5 degrees
4 inches 84 degrees
8 inches 77 degrees (sand wet)
16 inches 76 degrees (sand wet)
Daylight of following morning:
Surface 52 degrees
1 inch 55 degrees
2 inches 58 degrees
4 inches 67 degrees
8 inches 73 degrees (sand wet)
16 inches 74 degrees (sand wet)
From Tura our little army again crossed the Soane, the scarped cliffs
of the Kymore approaching close to the river on the west side.
The bed is very sandy, and about one mile and a half across.
The elephants were employed again, as at Baroon, to push the cart:
one of them had a bump in consequence, as large as a child's head,
just above the trunk, and bleeding much; but the brave beast
disregarded this, when the word of command was given by his driver.
The stream was very narrow, but deep and rapid, obstructed with beds
of coarse agate, jasper, cornelian and chalcedony pebbles. A clumsy
boat took us across to the village of Soanepore, a wretched
collection of hovels. The crops were thin and poor, and I saw no
palms or good trees. Squirrels however abounded, and were busy laying
up their stores; descending from the trees they scoured across a road
to a field of tares, mounted the hedge, took an observation, foraged
and returned up the tree with their booty, quickly descended, and
repeated the operation of reconnoitering and plundering.
The bed of the river is here considerably above that at Dearee, where
the mean of the observations with those of Baroon, made it about 300
feet. The mean of those taken here and on the opposite side, at Tura,
gives about 400 feet, indicating a fall of 100 feet in only 40 miles.
Near this the sandy banks of the Soane were full of martins' nests,
each one containing a pair of eggs. The deserted ones were literally
crammed full of long-legged spiders (_Opilio_), which could be
raked out with a stick, when they came pouring down the cliff like
corn from a sack; the quantities are quite inconceivable. I did not
observe the martin feed on them.
The entomology here resembled that of Europe, more than I had
expected in a tropical country, where predaceous beetles, at least
_Carabideae_ and _Staphylinideae,_ are generally considered
rare. The latter tribes swarmed under the clods, of many species but
all small, and so singularly active that I could not give the time to
collect many. In the banks again, the round egg-like earthy chrysalis
of the _Sphynx Atropos_ (?) and the many-celled nidus of the
leaf-cutter bee, were very common.
A large columnar _Euphorbia_ (_E. ligulata_) is common all along the
Soane, and I observed it to be used everywhere for fencing. I had not
remarked the _E. neriifolia_; and the _E. tereticaulis_ had been very
rarely seen since leaving Calcutta. The _Cactus_ is nowhere found; it
is abundant in many parts of Bengal, but certainly not indigenous.
Illustration --CROSSING THE SOANE, WITH THE KYMORE HILLS IN THE
DISTANCE.
From this place onwards up the Soane, there was no road of any kind,
and we were compelled to be our own road engineers. The sameness of
the vegetation and lateness of the season made me regret this the
less, for I was disappointed in my anticipations of finding
luxuriance and novelty in these wilds. Before us the valley narrowed
considerably, the forest became denser, the country on the south side
was broken with rounded hills, and on the north the noble cliffs of
the Kymore dipped down to the river. The villages were smaller, more
scattered and poverty-stricken, with the Mahowa and Mango as the
usual trees; the banyan, peepul, and tamarind being rare. The native,
are of an aboriginal jungle race; and are tall, athletic, erect, much
less indolent and more spirited than the listless natives of
the plains.
_February_ 21.--Started at daylight: but so slow and difficult
was our progress through fields and woods, and across deep gorges
from the hills, that we only advanced five miles in the day; the
elephant's head too was aching too badly to let him push, and the
cattle would not proceed when the draught was not equal. What was
worse, it was impossible to get them to pull together up the inclined
planes we cut, except by placing a man at the head of each of the
six, eight, or ten in a team, and simultaneously screwing round their
tails; when one tortured animal sometimes capsizes the vehicle.
The small carts got on better, though it was most nervous to see them
rushing down the steeps, especially those with our fragile
instruments, etc.
Kosdera, where we halted, is a pretty place, elevated 440 feet, with
a broad stream front the hills flowing past it. These hills are of
limestone, and rounded, resting upon others of hornstone and jasper.
Following up the stream I came to some rapids, where the stream is
crossed by large beds of hornstone and porphyry rocks, excessively
hard, and pitched up at right angles, or with a bold dip to the
north. The number of strata was very great, and only a few inches or
even lines thick: they presented all varieties of jasper, hornstone,
and quartz of numerous colours, with occasional seams of porphyry or
breccia. The racks were elegantly fringed with a fern I had not
hitherto seen, _Polypodium proliferum,_ which is the only
species the Soane valley presents at this season.
Returning over the hills, I found _Hardwickia binata,_ a most
elegant leguminous tree, tall, erect, with an elongated coma, and the
branches pendulous. These trees grew in a shallow bed of alluvium,
enclosing abundance of agate pebbles and kunker, the former derived
from the quartzy strata above noticed.
On the 23rd and 24th we continued to follow up the Soane, first to
Panchadurma (alt. 490 feet), and thence to Pepura (alt. 587 feet),
the country becoming densely wooded, very wild, and picturesque, the
woods being full of monkeys, parrots, peacocks, hornbills, and wild
animals. _Strychnos potatorum,_ whose berries are used to purify
water, forms a dense foliaged tree, 30 to 60 feet high, some
individuals pale yellow, others deep green, both in apparent health.
_Feronia Elephantum_ and _Aegle marmelos_* [The Bhel fruit, lately
introduced into English medical practice, as an astringent of great
effect, in cases of diarrhoea and dysentery.] were very abundant,
with _Sterculia,_ and the dwarf date-palm.
One of my carts was here hopelessly broken down; advancing on the
spokes instead of the tire of the wheels. By the banks of a deep
gully here the rocks are well exposed: they consist of soft clay
shales resting on the limestone, which is nearly horizontal; and this
again, unconformably on the quartz and hornstone rocks, which are
confused, and tilted up at all angles.
A spur of the Kymore, like that of Rotas, here projects to the bed of
the river, and was blazing at night with the beacon-like fires of the
natives, lighted to scare the tigers and bears from the spots where
they cut wood and bamboo; they afforded a splendid spectacle, the
flames in some places leaping zig-zag from hill to hill in front of
us, and looking as if a gigantic letter W were written in fire.
The night was bright and clear, with much lightning, the latter
attracted to the spur, and darting down as it were to mingle its fire
with that of the forest; so many flashes appeared to strike on the
flames, that it is probable the heated air in their neighbourhood
attracted them. We were awakened between 3 and 4 a.m., by a violent
dust-storm, which threatened to carry away the tents. Our position at
the mouth of the gulley formed by the opposite hills, no doubt
accounted for it. The gusts were so furious that it was impossible to
observe the barometer, which I returned to its case on ascertaining
that any indications of a rise or fall in the column must have been
quite trifling. The night had been oppressively hot, with many
insects flying about; amongst which I noticed earwigs, a genus
erroneously supposed rarely to take to the wing in Britain.
At 8.30 a.m. it suddenly fell calm, and we proceeded to Chanchee
(alt. 500 feet), the native carts breaking down in their passage over
the projecting beds of flinty rocks, or as they burned down the
inclined planes we cut through the precipitous clay banks of the
streams. Near Chanchee we passed an alligator, just killed by two
men, a foul beast, about nine feet long, of the mugger kind.
More absorbing than its natural history was the circumstance of its
having swallowed a child, that was playing in the water as its mother
was washing her utensils in the river. The brute was hardly dead,
much distended by the prey, and the mother was standing beside it.
A very touching group was this: the parent with her hands clasped in
agony, unable to withdraw her eyes from the cursed reptile, which
still clung to life with that tenacity for which its tribe are so
conspicuous; beside these the two athletes leaned on the bloody
bamboo staffs, with which they had all but despatched the animal.
This poor woman earned a scanty maintenance by making catechu:
inhabiting a little cottage, and having no property but two cattle to
bring wood from the hills, and a very few household chattels; and how
few of these they only know who have seen the meagre furniture of
Danga hovels. Her husband cut the trees in the forest and dragged
them to the hut, but at this time he was sick, and her only boy, her
future stay, it was, whom the beast had devoured.
This province is famous for the quantity of catechu its dry forests
yield. The plant (_Acacia_) is a little thorny tree, erect, and
bearing a rounded head of well remembered prickly branches. Its wood
is yellow, with a dark brick-red heart, most profitable in January
and useless in June (for yielding the extract).
Illustration -- SOANE VALLEY AND KYMORE HILLS COCHLOSPERMUM GOSSYPIUM
AND BUTEA FRONDOSA IN FLOWER.
The _Butea frondosa_ was abundantly in flower here, and a gorgeous
sight. In mass the inflorescence resembles sheets of flame, and
individually the flowers are eminently beautiful, the bright
orange-red petals contrasting brilliantly against the jet-black
velvety calyx. The nest of the _Megachile_ (leaf-cutter bee) was in
thousands in the cliffs, with Mayflies, Caddis-worms, spiders, and
many predaceous beetles. Lamellicorn beetles were very rare, even
_Aphodius,_ and of _Cetoniae_ I did not see one.
We marched on the 28th to Kota, at the junction of the river of that
name with the Soane, over hills of flinty rock, which projected
everywhere, to the utter ruin of the elephants' feet, and then over
undulating hills of limestone; on the latter I found trees of
_Cochlospermum,_ whose curious thick branches spread out
somewhat awkwardly, each tipped with a cluster of golden yellow
flowers, as large as the palm of the hand, and very beautiful: it is
a tropical Gum-Cistus in the appearance and texture of the petals,
and their frail nature. The bark abounds in a transparent gum, of
which the white ants seem fond, for they had killed many trees.
Of the leaves the curious rude leaf-bellows are made, with which the
natives of these hills smelt iron. Scorpions appeared very common
here, of a small kind, 1.5 inch long; several were captured, and one
of our party was stung on the finger; the smart was burning for an
hour or two, and then ceased.
At Kota we were nearly opposite the cliffs at Beejaghur, where coal
is reported to exist; and here we again crossed the Soane, and for
the last time. The ford is three miles up the river, and we marched
to it through deep sand. The bed of the river is here 500 feet above
the sea, and about three-quarters of a mile broad, the rapid stream
being 50 or 60 yards wide, and breast deep. The sand is firm and
siliceous, with no mica; nodules of coal are said to be washed down
thus far from the coal-beds of Burdee, a good deal higher up, but we
saw none.
The cliffs come close to the river on the opposite side, their bases
clothed with woods which teemed with birds. The soil is richer, and
individual trees, especially of _Bombax, Terminalia_ and _Mahowa,_
very fine; one tree of the _Hardwickia,_ about 120 feet high, was as
handsome a monarch of the forest as I ever saw, and it is not often
that one sees trees in the tropics, which for a combination of beauty
in outline, harmony of colour, and arrangement of branches and
foliage, would form so striking an addition to an English park.
There is a large break in the Kymore hills here, beyond the village
of Kunch, through which our route lay to Beejaghur, and the Ganges at
Mirzapore; the cliff's leaving the river and trending to the north in
a continuous escarpment flanked with low ranges of rounded hills, and
terminating in an abrupt spur (Mungeesa Peak) whose summit was
covered with a ragged forest. At Kunch we saw four alligators
sleeping in the river, looking at a distance like logs of wood, all
of the short-nosed or mugger kind, dreaded by man and beast; I saw
none of the sharp-shouted (or garial), so common on the Ganges, where
their long bills, with a garniture of teeth and prominent eyes
peeping out of the water, remind one of geological lectures and
visions of _Ichthyosauri._ Tortoises were frequent in the river,
basking on the rocks, and popping into the water when approached.
On the 1st of March we left the Soane, and struck inland over a rough
hilly country, covered with forest, fully 1000 feet below the top of
the Kymore table-land, which here recedes from the river and
surrounds an undulating plain, some ten miles either way, facing the
south. The roads, or rather pathways, were very bad, and quite
impassable for the carts without much engineering, cutting through
forest, smoothing down the banks of the watercourses to be crossed,
and clearing away the rocks as we best might. We traversed the empty
bed of a mountain torrent, with perpendicular banks of alluvium 30
feet high, and thence plunged into a dense forest. Our course was
directed towards Mungeesa Peak, the remarkable projecting spur,
between which and a conical hill the path led. Whether on the
elephants or on foot, the thorny jujubes, _Acacias,_ etc. were
most troublesome, and all our previous scratchings were nothing to
this. Peacocks and jungle-fowl were very frequent, the squabbling of
the former and the hooting of the monkeys constantly grating on the
ear. There were innumerable pigeons and a few Floricans (a kind of
bustard--considered the best eating game--bird in India). From the
defile we emerged on an open flat, halting at Sulkun, a scattered
village (alt. 684 feet), peopled by a bold-looking race (Coles)* [The
Coles, like the Danghas of the Rajmahal and Behar hills, and the
natives of the mountains of the peninsula, form one of the aboriginal
tribes of British India, and are widely different people from either
the Hindoos or Mussulmen.] who habitually carry the spear and shield.
We had here the pleasure of meeting Mr. Felle, an English gentleman
employed in the Revenue department; this being one of the roads along
which the natives transport their salt, sugar, etc., from one
province to another.
In the afternoon, I examined the conical hill, which, like that near
Rotas, is of stratified beds of limestone, capped with sandstone.
A stream runs round its base, cutting through the alluvium to the
subjacent rock, which is exposed, and contains flattened spheres of
limestone. These spheres are from the size of a fist to a child's
head, or even much larger; they are excessively hard, and neither
laminated nor formed of concentric layers. At the top of the hill the
sandstone cap was perpendicular on all sides, and its dry top covered
with small trees, especially of _Cochlospermum._ A few larger
trees of _Fici_ clung to the edge of the rocks, and by forcing
their roots into the interstices detached enormous masses, affording
good dens for bears and other wild animals. From the top, the view of
rock, river, forest, and plain, was very fine, the eye ranging over a
broad flat, girt by precipitous hills;--West, the Kymore or Vindhya
range rose again in rugged elevations; South, flowed the Soane,
backed by ranges of wooded hills, smoking like volcanos with the
fires of the natives;--below, lay the bed of the stream we had left
at the foot of the hills, cutting its way through the alluvium, and
following a deep gorge to the Soane, which was there hidden by the
rugged heights we had crossed, on which the greater part of our camp
might be seen still straggling onwards;--east, and close above us,
the bold spur of Mungeesa shot up, terminating a continuous stretch
of red precipices, clothed with forest along their bases, and over
their horizontal tops.
From Sulkun the view of the famed fort and palace of Beejaghur is
very singular, planted on the summit of an isolated hill of
sandstone, about ten miles off. A large tree by the palace marks its
site; for, at this distance, the buildings are themselves
undistinguishable.
There are many tigers on these hills; and as one was close by, and
had killed several cattle, Mr. Felle kindly offered us a chance of
slaying him. Bullocks are tethered out, over-night, in the places
likely to be visited by the brute; he kills one of them, and is from
the spot tracked to his haunt by natives, who visit the stations
early in the morning, and report the whereabouts of his lair.
The sportsman then goes to the attack mounted on an elephant, or
having a roost fixed in a tree, on the trail of the tiger, and he
employs some hundred natives to drive the animal past the
lurking-place.
On the present occasion, the locale of the tiger was doubtful; but it
was thought that by beating over several miles of country he (or at
any rate, some other game) might be driven past a certain spot.
Thither, accordingly, the natives were sent, who built machans
(stages) in the trees, high out of danger's reach; Mr. Theobald and
myself occupied one of these perches in a _Hardwickia_ tree, and
Mr. Felle another, close by, both on the slope of a steep hill,
surrounded by jungly valleys. We were also well thatched in with
leafy boughs, to prevent the wary beast from espying the ambush, and
had a whole stand of shall arms ready for his reception.
When roosted aloft, and duly charged to keep profound silence (which
I obeyed to the letter, by falling sound asleep), the word was passed
to the beaters, who surrounded our post on the plain-side, extending
some miles in line, and full two or three distant from us.
They entered the jungle, beating tom-toms, singing and shouting as
they advanced, and converging towards our position. In the noonday
solitude of these vast forests, our situation was romantic enough:
there was not a breath of wind, an insect or bird stirring; and the
wild cries of the men, and the hollow sound of the drums broke upon
the ear from a great distance, gradually swelling and falling, as the
natives ascended the heights or crossed the valleys. After about an
hour and a half, the beaters emerged from the jungle under our
retreat; one by one, two by two, but preceded by no single living
thing, either mouse, bird, deer, or bear, and much less tiger.
The beaters received about a penny a-piece for the day's work; a rich
guerdon for these poor wretches, whom necessity sometimes drives to
feed on rats and offal.
We were detained three days at Sulkun, from inability to get on with
the carts; and as the pass over the Kymore to the north (on the way
to Mirzapore) was to be still worse, I took advantage of Mr. Felle's
kind offer of camels and elephants to make the best of my way
forward, accompanying that gentleman, _en route,_ to his
residence at Shahgunj, on the table-land.
Both the climate and natural history of this flat on which Sulkun
stands, are similar to those of the banks of the Soane; the crops are
wretched. At this season the dryness of the atmosphere is excessive:
our nails cracked, and skins peeled, whilst all articles of wood,
tortoiseshell, etc., broke on the slightest blow. The air, too, was
always highly electrical, and the dew-point was frequently 40 degrees
below the temperature of the air.
The natives are far from honest: they robbed one of the tents placed
between two others, wherein a light was burning. One gentleman in it
was awake, and on turning saw five men at his bedside, who escaped
with a bag of booty, in the shape of clothes, and a tempting strong
brass-bound box, containing private letters. The clothes they dropped
outside, but the box of letters was carried off. There were about a
hundred people asleep outside the tents, between whose many fires the
rogues must have passed, eluding also the guard, who were, or ought
to have been, awake.