Excursion from Dorjiling to Great Rungeet -- Zones of vegetation --
Tree-ferns -- Palms, upper limit of -- Leebong, tea plantations --
Ging -- Boodhist remains -- Tropical vegetation -- Pines -- Lepcha
clearances -- Forest fires -- Boodhist monuments -- Fig -- Cane
bridge and raft over Rungeet -- Sago-palm -- India-rubber -- Yel Pote
-- Butterflies and other insects -- Snakes -- Camp -- Temperature and
humidity of atmosphere -- Junction of Teesta and Rungeet -- Return to
Dorjiling -- Tonglo, excursion to -- Bamboo flowering -- Oaks --
Gordonia -- Maize, hermaphrodite flowered -- Figs -- Nettles --
Peepsa -- Simonbong, cultivation at -- European fruits at Dorjiling
-- Plains of India.
A very favourite and interesting excursion from Dorjiling is to the
cane bridge over the Great Rungeet river, 6000 feet below the
station. To this an excellent road has been cut, by which the whole
descent of six miles, as the crow flies, is easily performed on
pony-back; the road distance being only eleven miles. The scenery is,
of course, of a totally different description from that of Sinchul,
or even of the foot of the hills, being that of a deep
mountain-valley. I several times made this trip; on the excursion
about to be described, and in which I was accompanied by Mr. Barnes,
I followed the Great Rungeet to the Teesta, into which it flows.
In descending from Dorjiling, the zones of vegetation are well marked
between 6000 and 7000 feet by--1. The oak, chesnut, and Magnolias,
the main features from 7000 to 10,000 feet.--2. Immediately below
6,500 feet, the tree-fern appears (_Alsophila gigantea,_ Wall.), a
widely-distributed plant, common to the Himalaya, from Nepal eastward
to the Malayan peninsula, Java, and Ceylon.--3. Of palms, a species
of _Calamus,_ and _Plectocomia,_ the "Rhenoul" of the Lepchas. The
latter, though not a very large plant, climbs lofty trees, and
extends about 40 yards through the forest; 6,500 feet is the upper
limit of palms in the Sikkim Himalaya, the Rhenoul alone attaining
this elevation.*--4. [Four other _Calami_ range between 1000 and 6000
feet on the outer hills, some of them being found forty miles distant
from the plains of India. The other palms of Sikkim are, "Simong"
(_Caryota urens_); it is rare, and ascends to nearly 5000 feet.
_Phoenix_ (probably _P. acaulis,_ Buch.), a small, stemless species,
which grows on the driest soil in the deep valleys; it is the
"Schaap" of the Lepchas, who eat the young seeds, and use the
feathery fronds as screens in hunting. _Wallichia oblongifolia,_ the
"Ooh" of the Lepchas, who make no use of it; Dr. Campbell and myself,
however, found that it is an admirable fodder for horses, who prefer
it to any other green food to be had in these mountains. _Areca
gracilis_ and _Licuala peltata_ are the only other palms in Sikkim;
but _Cycas pectinata,_ with the India-rubber fig, occurs in the
deepest and hottest valleys--the western limit of both these
interesting plants. Of _Pandanus_ there is a graceful species at
elevations of 1000 to 4000 feet ("Borr," Lepcha).] The fourth
striking feature is a wild plantain, which ascends to nearly the same
elevation ("Lukhlo," Lepcha). This is replaced by another, and rather
larger species, at lower elevations; both ripen austere and small
fruits, which are full of seeds, and quite uneatable; that commonly
grown in Sikkim is an introduced stock (nor have the wild species
ever been cultivated); it is very large, but poor in flavour, and
does not bear seeds. The zones of these conspicuous plants are very
clearly defined, and especially if the traveller, standing on one of
the innumerable spurs which project from the Dorjiling ridge, cast
his eyes up the gorges of green on either hand.
At 1000 feet below Dorjiling a fine wooded spur projects, called
Leebong. This beautiful spot is fully ten degrees warmer than Mr.
Hodgson's house, and enjoys considerably more sunshine; peaches and
English fruit-trees flourish extremely well, but do not ripen fruit.
The tea-plant succeeds here admirably, and might be cultivated to
great profit, and be of advantage in furthering a trade with Tibet.
It has been tried on a large scale by Dr. Campbell at his residence
(alt. 7000 feet), but the frosts and snow of that height injure it,
as do the hailstorms in spring.
Below Leebong is the village of Ging, surrounded by steeps,
cultivated with maize, rice, and millet. It is rendered very
picturesque by a long row of tall poles, each bearing a narrow,
vertically elongated banner, covered with Boodhist inscriptions, and
surmounted by coronet-like ornaments, or spear-heads, rudely cut out
of wood, or formed of basket-work, and adorned with cotton fringe.
Ging is peopled by Bhotan emigrants, and when one dies, if his
relations can afford to pay for them, two additional poles and flags
are set up by the Lamas in honour of his memory, and that of Sunga,
the third member of the Boodhist Trinity.
Below this the _Gordonia_ commences, with _Cedrela toona,_ and
various tropical genera, such as abound near Punkabaree. The heat and
hardness of the rocks cause the streams to dry up on these abrupt
hills, especially on the eastern slope, and the water is therefore
conveyed along the sides of the path, in conduits ingeniously made of
bamboo, either split in half, or, what is better, whole, except at
the septum, which is removed through a lateral hole. The oak and
chesnut of this level (3000 feet), are both different from those
which grow above, as are the brambles. The _Arums_ are replaced by
_Caladiums. Tree-ferns cease below 4000 feet, and the large bamboo
abounds.
At about 2000 feet, and ten miles distant from Dorjiling, we arrived
at a low, long spur, dipping down to the bed of the Rungeet, at its
junction with the Rungmo. This is close to the boundary of the
British ground, and there is a guard-house, and a sepoy or two at it;
here we halted. It took the Lepchas about twenty minutes to construct
a table and two bedsteads within our tent; each was made of four
forked sticks, stuck in the ground, supporting as many side-pieces,
across which were laid flat split pieces of bamboo, bound tightly
together by strips of rattan palm-stem. The beds were afterwards
softened by many layers of bamboo-leaf, and if not very downy, they
were dry, and as firm as if put together with screws and joints.
This spur rises out of a deep valley, quite surrounded by lofty
mountains; it is narrow, and covered with red clay, which the natives
chew as a cure for goitre. North, it looks down into a gully, at the
bottom of which the Rungeet's foamy stream winds through a dense
forest. In the opposite direction, the Rungmo comes tearing down from
the top of Sinchul, 7000 feet above; and though its roar is heard,
and its course is visible throughout its length, the stream itself is
nowhere seen, so deep does it cut its channel. Except on this, and a
few similarly hard rocky hills around, the vegetation is a mass of
wood and jungle. At this spot it is rather scanty and dry, with
abundance of the _Pinus longifolia_ and Sal. The dwarf date-palm
(_Phoenix acaulis_) also, was very abundant.
The descent to the river was exceedingly steep, the banks presenting
an impenetrable jungle. The pines on the arid crests of the hills
around formed a remarkable feature: they grow like the Scotch fir,
the tall, red trunks springing from the steep and dry slopes. But
little resin exudes from the stem, which, like that of most pines, is
singularly free from lichens and mosses; its wood is excellent, and
the charcoal of the burnt leaves is used as a pigment. Being confined
to dry soil, this pine is local in Sikkim, and the elevation it
attains here is not above 3000 feet. In Bhotan, where there is more
dry country, its range is about the same, and in the north-west
Himalaya, from 2,500 to 7000 feet.
The Lepcha never inhabits one spot for more than three successive
years, after which an increased rent is demanded by the Rajah. He
therefore _squats_ in any place which he can render profitable for
that period, and then moves to another. His first operation, after
selecting a site, is to burn the jungle; then he clears away the
trees, and cultivates between the stumps. At this season, firing the
jungle is a frequent practice, and the effect by night is exceedingly
fine; a forest, so dry and full of bamboo, and extending over such
steep hills, affording grand blazing spectacles. Heavy clouds canopy
the mountains above, and, stretching across the valleys, shut out the
firmament; the air is a dead calm, as usual in these deep gorges, and
the fires, invisible by day, are seen raging all around, appearing to
an inexperienced eye in all but dangerous proximity. The voices of
birds and insects being hushed, nothing is audible but the harsh roar
of the rivers, and occasionally, rising far above it, that of the
forest fires. At night we were literally surrounded by them; some
smouldering, like the shale-heaps at a colliery, others fitfully
bursting forth, whilst others again stalked along with a steadily
increasing and enlarging flame, shooting out great tongues of fire,
which spared nothing as they advanced with irresistible might. Their
triumph is in reaching a great bamboo clump, when the noise of the
flames drowns that of the torrents, and as the great stem-joints,
burst, from the expansion of the confined air, the report is as that
of a salvo from a park of artillery. At Dorjiling the blaze is
visible, and the deadened reports of the bamboos bursting is heard
throughout the night; but in the valley, and within a mile of the
scene of destruction, the effect is the most grand, being heightened
by the glare reflected from the masses of mist which hover above.
On the following morning we pursued a path to the bed of the river;
passing a rude Booddhist monument, a pile of slate-rocks, with an
attempt at the mystical hemisphere at top. A few flags or banners,
and slabs of slate, were inscribed with "Om Mani Padmi om." Placed on
a jutting angle of the spur, backed with the pine-clad hills, and
flanked by a torrent on either hand, the spot was wild and
picturesque; and I could not but gaze with a feeling of deep interest
on these emblems of a religion which perhaps numbers more votaries
than any other on the face of the globe. Booddhism in some form is
the predominating creed, from Siberia and Kamschatka to Ceylon, from
the Caspian steppes to Japan, throughout China, Burmah, Ava, and a
part of the Malayan Archipelago. Its associations enter into every
book of travels over these vast regions, with Booddha, Dhurma, Sunga,
Jos, Fo, and praying-wheels. The mind is arrested by the names, the
imagination captivated by the symbols; and though I could not worship
in the grove, it was impossible to deny to the inscribed stones such
a tribute as is commanded by the first glimpse of objects which have
long been familiar to our minds, but not previously offered to our
senses. My head Lepcha went further: to a due observance of
demon-worship he united a deep reverence for the Lamas, and he
venerated their symbols rather as theirs than as those of their
religion. He walked round the pile of stones three times from left to
right repeating his "Om Mani," etc., then stood before it with his
head hung down and his long queue streaming behind, and concluded by
a votive offering of three pine-cones. When done, he looked round at
me, nodded, smirked, elevated the angles of his little turned-up
eyes, and seemed to think we were safe from all perils in the valleys
yet to be explored.
Illustration -- PINES (PINUS LONGIFOLIA), RUNGEET VALLEY.
In the gorge of the Rungeet the heat was intolerable, though the
thermometer did not rise above 95 degrees. The mountains leave but a
narrow gorge between them, here and there bordered by a belt of
strong soil, supporting a towering crop of long cane-like grasses and
tall trees. The troubled river, about eighty yards across, rages
along over a gravelly bed. Crossing the Rungmo, where it falls into
the Rungeet, we came upon a group of natives drinking fermented Murwa
liquor, under a rock; I had a good deal of difficulty in getting my
people past, and more in inducing one of the topers to take the place
of a Ghorka (Nepalese) of our party who was ill with fever. Soon
afterwards, at a most wild and beautiful spot, I saw, for the first
time, one of the most characteristic of Himalayan objects of art, _a
cane bridge._ All the spurs, round the bases of which the river
flowed, were steep and rocky, their flanks clothed with the richest
tropical forest, their crests tipped with pines. On the river's edge,
the Banana, _Pandanus,_ and _Bauhinia,_ were frequent, and Figs
prevailed. One of the latter (of an exceedingly beautiful species)
projected over the stream, growing out of a mass of rock, its roots
interlaced and grasping at every available support, while its
branches, loaded with deep glossy foliage, hung over the water. This
tree formed one pier for the canes; that on the opposite bank, was
constructed of strong piles, propped with large stones; and between
them swung the bridge,* [A sketch of one of these bridges will be
found in Vol. ii.] about eighty yards long, ever rocking over the
torrent (forty feet below). The lightness and extreme simplicity of
its structure were very remarkable. Two parallel canes, on the same
horizontal plane, were stretched across the stream; from them others
hung in loops, and along the loops were laid one or two bamboo stems
for flooring; cross pieces below this flooring, hung from the two
upper canes, which they thus served to keep apart. The traveller
grasps one of the canes in either hand, and walks along the loose
bamboos laid on the swinging loops: the motion is great, and the
rattling of the loose dry bamboos is neither a musical sound, nor one
calculated to inspire confidence; the whole structure seeming as if
about to break down. With shoes it is not easy to walk; and even with
bare feet it is often difficult, there being frequently but one
bamboo, which, if the fastening is loose, tilts up, leaving the
pedestrian suspended over the torrent by the slender canes. When
properly and strongly made, with good fastenings, and a floor of
bamboos laid _transversely,_ these bridges are easy to cross. The
canes are procured from a species of _Calamus_; they are as thick as
the finger, and twenty, or thirty yards long, knotted together; and
the other pieces are fastened to them by strips of the same plant. A
Lepcha, carrying one hundred and forty pounds on his back, crosses
without hesitation, slowly but steadily, and with perfect confidence.
Illustration -- CANE BRIDGE.
A deep broad pool below the bridge was made available for a ferry:
the boat was a triangular raft of bamboo stems, with a stage on the
top, and it was secured on the opposite side of the stream, having a
cane reaching across to that on which we were. A stout Lepcha leapt
into the boiling flood, and boldly swam across, holding on by the
cane, without which he would have been carried away. He unfastened
the raft, and we drew it over by the cane, and, seated on the stage,
up to our knees in water, we were pulled across; the raft bobbing up
and down over the rippling stream.
We were beyond British ground, on the opposite bank, where any one
guiding Europeans is threatened with punishment: we had expected a
guide to follow us, but his non-appearance caused us to delay for
some hours; four roads, or rather forest paths, meeting here, all of
which were difficult to find. After a while, part of a
marriage-procession came up, headed by the bridegroom, a handsome
young Lepcha, leading a cow for the marriage feast; and after talking
to him a little, he volunteered to show us the path. On the flats by
the stream grew the Sago palm (_Cycas pectinata_), with a stem ten
feet high, and a beautiful crown of foliage; the contrast between
this and the Scotch-looking pine (both growing with oaks and palms)
was curious. Much of the forest had been burnt, and we traversed
large blackened patches, where the heat was intense, and increased by
the burning trunks of prostrate trees, which smoulder for months, and
leave a heap of white ashes. The larger timber being hollow in the
centre, a current of air is produced, which causes the interior to
burn rapidly, till the sides fall in, and all is consumed. I was
often startled, when walking in the forest, by the hot blast
proceeding from such, which I had approached without a suspicion of
their being other than cold dead trunks.
Leaving the forest, the path led along the river bank, and over the
great masses of rock which strewed its course. The beautiful
India-rubber fig was common, as was _Bassia butyracea,_ the "Yel
Pote" of the Lepchas, from the seeds of which they express a concrete
oil, which is received and hardens in bamboo vessels. On the
forest-skirts, _Hoya,_ parasitical _Orchideae,_ and Ferns, abounded;
the Chaulmoogra, whose fruit is used to intoxicate fish, was very
common; as was an immense mulberry tree, that yields a milky juice
and produces a long green sweet fruit. Large fish, chiefly Cyprinoid,
were abundant in the beautifully clear water of the river. But by far
the most striking feature consisted in the amazing quantity of superb
butterflies, large tropical swallow-tails, black, with scarlet or
yellow eyes on their wings. They were seen everywhere, sailing
majestically through the still hot air, or fluttering from one
scorching rock to another, and especially loving to settle on the
damp sand of the river-edge; where they sat by thousands, with erect
wings, balancing themselves with a rocking motion, as their heavy
sails inclined them to one side or the other; resembling a crowded
fleet of yachts on a calm day. Such an entomological display cannot
be surpassed. _Cicindelae_ were very numerous, and incredibly active,
as were _Grylli_; and the great _Cicadeae_ were everywhere lighting
on the ground, when they uttered a short sharp creaking sound, and
anon disappeared, as if by magic. Beautiful whip-snakes were gleaming
in the sun: they hold on by a few coils of the tail round a twig, the
greater part of their body stretched out horizontally, occasionally
retracting, and darting an unerring aim at some insect.
The narrowness of the gorge, and the excessive steepness of the
bounding hills, prevented any view, except of the opposite mountain
face, which was one dense forest, in which the wild Banana
was conspicuous.
Towards evening we arrived at another cane-bridge, still more
dilapidated than the former, but similar in structure. For a few
hundred yards before reaching it, we lost the path, and followed the
precipitous face of slate-rocks overhanging the stream, which dashed
with great violence below. Though we could not walk comfortably, even
with our shoes off, the Lepchas, bearing their enormous loads,
proceeded with perfect indifference.
Anxious to avoid sleeping at the bottom of the valley, we crawled,
very much fatigued, through burnt dry forest, up a very sharp ridge,
so narrow that the tent sat astride on it, the ropes being fastened
to the tops of small trees on either slope. The ground swarmed with
black ants, which got into our tea, sugar, etc., while it was so
covered with charcoal, that we were soon begrimed. Our Lepchas
preferred remaining on the river-bank, whence they had to bring up
water to us, in great bamboo "chungis," as they are called. The great
dryness of this face is owing to its southern exposure: the opposite
mountains, equally high and steep, being clothed in a rich green
forest.
At nine the next morning, the temperature was 78 degrees, but a fine
cool easterly wind blew. Descending to the bed of the river, the
temperature was 84 degrees. The difference in humidity of the two
stations (with about 300 feet difference in height) was more
remarkable; at the upper, the wet bulb thermometer was 67.5 degrees,
and consequently the saturation point, 0.713; at the lower, the wet
bulb was 68 degrees, and saturation, 0.599. The temperature of the
river was, at all hours of the preceding day, and this morning, 67.5
degrees.* [At this hour, the probable temperature at Dorjiling (6000
feet above this) would be 56 degrees, with a temperature of wet bulb
55 degrees, and the atmosphere loaded with vapour. At Calcutta,
again, the temperature was at the observatory 98.3 degrees, wet bulb,
81.8 degrees, and saturation=0.137. The dryness of the air, in the
damper-looking and luxuriant river-bed, was owing to the heated rocks
of its channel; while the humidity of the atmosphere over the
drier-looking hill where we encamped, was due to the moisture of the
wind then blowing.]
Our course down the river was by so rugged a path, that, giddy and
footsore with leaping from rock to rock, we at last attempted the
jungle, but it proved utterly impervious. On turning a bend of the
stream, the mountains of Bhotan suddenly presented themselves, with
the Teesta flowing at their base; and we emerged at the angle formed
by the junction of the Rungeet, which we had followed from the west,
of the Teesta, coming from the north, and of their united streams
flowing south.
We were not long before enjoying the water, when I was surprised to
find that of the Teesta singularly cold; its temperature being 7
degrees below that of the Rungeet.* [This is, no doubt, due partly to
the Teesta flowing south, and thus having less of the sun, and partly
to its draining snowy mountains throughout a much longer portion of
its course. The temperature of the one was 67.5 degrees, and that of
the other 60.5 degrees.] At the salient angle (a rocky peninsula) of
their junction, we could almost place one foot in the cold stream and
the other in the warmer. There is a no less marked difference in the
colour of the two rivers; the Teesta being sea-green and muddy, the
Great Rungeet dark green and very clear; and the waters, like those
of the Arve and Rhone at Geneva, preserve their colours for some
hundred yards; the line separating the two being most distinctly
drawn. The Teesta, or main stream, is much the broadest (about 80 or
100 yards wide at this season), the most rapid and deep. The rocks
which skirt its bank were covered with a silt or mud deposit, which I
nowhere observed along the Great Rungeet, and which, as well as its
colour and coldness, was owing to the vast number of then melting
glaciers drained by this river. The Rungeet, on the other hand,
though it rises amongst the glaciers of Kinchinjunga and its sister
peaks, is chiefly supplied by the rainfall of the outer ranges of
Sinchul and Singalelah, and hence its waters are clear, except during
the height of the rains.
From this place we returned to Dorjiling, arriving on the afternoon
of the following day.
The most interesting trip to be made from Dorjiling, is that to the
summit of Tonglo, a mountain on the Singalelah range, 10,079 feet
high, due west of the station, and twelve miles in a straight line,
but fully thirty by the path.* [A full account of the botanical
features noticed on this excursion (which I made in May, 1848, with
Mr. Barnes) has appeared in the "London Journal of Botany," and the
"Horticultural Society's Journal," and I shall, therefore,
recapitulate its leading incidents only.]
Leaving the station by a native path, the latter plunges at once into
a forest, and descends very rapidly, occasionally emerging on cleared
spurs, where are fine crops of various millets, with much maize and
rice. Of the latter grain as many as eight or ten varieties are
cultivated, but seldom irrigated, which, owing to the dampness of the
climate, is not necessary: the produce is often eighty-fold, but the
grain is large, coarse, reddish, and rather gelatinous when boiled.
After burning the timber, the top soil is very fertile for several
seasons, abounding in humus, below which is a stratum of stiff clay,
often of great thickness, produced by the disintegration of the
rocks;* [An analysis of the soil will be found in the Appendix.] the
clay makes excellent bricks, and often contains nearly 30 per cent.
of alumina.
At about 4000 feet the great bamboo ("Pao" Lepcha) abounds; it
flowers every year, which is not the case with all others of this
genus, most of which flower profusely over large tracts of country,
once in a great many years, and then die away; their place being
supplied by seedlings, which grow with immense rapidity.
This well-known fact is not due, as some suppose, to the life of the
species being of such a duration, but to favourable circumstances in
the season. The Pao attains a height of 40 to 60 feet, and the culms
average in thickness the human thigh; it is used for large
water-vessels, and its leaves form admirable thatch, in universal use
for European houses at Dorjiling. Besides this, the Lepchas are
acquainted with nearly a dozen kinds of bamboo; these occur at
various elevations below 12,000 feet, forming, even in the
pine-woods, and above their zone, in the skirts of the _Rhododendron_
scrub, a small and sometimes almost impervious jungle. In an
economical point of view they maybe classed as those which split
readily, and those which do not. The young shoots of several are
eaten, and the seeds of one are made into a fermented drink, and into
bread in times of scarcity; but it would take many pages to describe
the numerous purposes to which the various species are put.
Illusration -- LEPCHA WATER-CARRIER WITH A BAMBOO CHUNGI.
Gordonia is their most common tree (_G. Wallichii_), much prized for
ploughshares and other purposes requiring a hard wood: it is the
"Sing-brang-kun" of the Lepchas, and ascends to 4000 feet. Oaks at
this elevation occur as solitary trees, of species different from
those of Dorjiling. There are three or four with a cup-shaped
involucre, and three with spinous involucres enclosing an eatable
sweet nut; these generally grow on a dry clayey soil.
Some low steep spurs were well cultivated, though the angle of the
field was upwards of 25 degrees; the crops, chiefly maize, were just
sprouting. This plant is occasionally hermaphrodite in Sikkim, the
flowers forming a large drooping panicle and ripening small grains;
it is, however, a rare occurrence, and the specimens are highly
valued by the people.
The general prevalence of figs,* [One species of this very tropical
genus ascends almost to 9000 feet on the outer ranges of Sikkim.] and
their allies, the nettles,* [Of two of these cloth is made, and of a
third, cordage. The tops of two are eaten, as are several species of
_Procris._ The "Poa" belongs to this order, yielding that kind of
grass cloth fibre, now abundantly imported into England from the
Malay Islands, and used extensively for shirting.] is a remarkable
feature in the botany of the Sikkim Himalaya, up to nearly 10,000
feet. Of the former there were here five species, some bearing
eatable and very palatable fruit of enormous size, others with the
fruit small and borne on prostrate, leafless branches, which spring
from the root and creep along the ground.
A troublesome, dipterous insect (the "Peepsa," a species of
_Siamulium_) swarms on the banks of the streams; it is very small and
black, floating like a speck before the eye; its bite leaves a spot
of extravasated blood under the cuticle, very irritating if
not opened.
Crossing the Little Rungeet river, we camped on the base of Tonglo.
The night was calm and clear, with faint cirrus, but no dew.
A thermometer sunk two feet in rich vegetable mould stood at 78
degrees two hours after it was lowered, and the same on the following
morning. This probably indicates the mean temperature of the month at
that spot, where, however, the dark colour of the exposed loose soil
must raise the temperature considerably.
_May 20th._--The temperature at sunrise was 67 degrees; the morning
bright, and clear over head, but the mountains looked threatening.
Dorjiling, perched on a ridge 5000 feet above us, had a singular
appearance. We ascended the Simonbong spur of Tonglo, so called from
a small village and Lama temple of that name on its summit; where we
arrived at noon, and passing some chaits* [The chait of Sikkim,
borrowed from Tibet, is a square pedestal, surmounted with a
hemisphere, the convex end downwards, and on it is placed a cone,
with a crescent on the top. These are erected as tombs to Lamas, and
as monuments to illustrious persons, and are venerated accordingly,
the people always passing them from left to right, often repeating
the invocation, "Ora Mani Padmi om."] gained the Lama's residence.
Two species of bamboo, the "Payong" and "Praong" of the Lepchas, here
replace the Pao of the lower regions. The former was flowering
abundantly, the whole of the culms (which were 20 feet high) being a
diffuse panicle of inflorescence. The "Praong" bears a round head of
flowers at the ends of the leafy branches. Wild strawberry, violet,
geranium, etc., announced our approach to the temperate zone.
Around the temple were potato crops and peach-trees, rice, millet,
yam, brinjal (egg-apple), fennel, hemp (for smoking its narcotic
leaves), and cummin, etc. The potato thrives extremely well as a
summer crop, at 7000 feet, in Sikkim, though I think the root (from
the Dorjiling stock) cultivated as a winter crop in the plains, is
superior both in size and flavour. Peaches never ripen in this part
of Sikkim, apparently from the want of sun; the tree grows well at
from 3000 to 7000 feet elevation, and flowers abundantly; the fruit
making the nearest approach to maturity (according to the elevation)
from July to October. At Dorjiling it follows the English seasons,
flowering in March and fruiting in September, when the scarce
reddened and still hard fruit falls from the tree. In the plains of
India, both this and the plum ripen in May, but the fruits are
very acid.
It is curious that throughout this temperate region, there is hardly
an eatable fruit except the native walnut, and some brambles, of
which the "yellow" and "ground raspberry" are the best, some insipid
figs, and a very austere crab-apple. The European apple will scarcely
ripen,* [This fruit, and several others, ripen at Katmandoo, in Nepal
(alt. 4000 feet), which place enjoys more sunshine than Sikkim.
I have, however, received very differedt accounts of the produce,
which, on the whole, appears to be inferior.] and the pear not at
all. Currants and gooseberries show no disposition to thrive, and
strawberries are the only fruits that ripen at all, which they do in
the greatest abundance. Vines, figs, pomegranates, plums, apricots,
etc., will not succeed even as trees. European vegetables again grow,
and thrive remarkably well throughout the summer of Dorjiling, and
the produce is very fair, sweet and good, but inferior in flavour to
the English.
Of tropical fruits cultivated below 4000 feet, oranges and
indifferent bananas alone are frequent, with lemons of various kinds.
The season for these is, however, very short; though that of the
plantain might with care be prolonged; oranges abound in winter, and
are excellent, but neither so large nor free of white pulp as those
of the Khasia hills, the West Indies, or the west coast of Africa.
Mangos are brought from the plains, for though wild in Sikkim, the
cultivated kinds do not thrive; I have seen the pine-apple plant, but
I never met with good fruit on it.
A singular and almost total absence of the light, and of the direct
rays of the sun in the ripening season, is the cause of this dearth
of fruit. Both the farmer and orchard gardener in England know full
well the value of a bright sky as well as of a warm autumnal
atmosphere. Without this corn does not ripen, and fruit-trees are
blighted. The winter of the plains of India being more analogous in
its distribution of moisture and heat to a European summer, such
fruits as the peach, vine, and even plum, fig, strawberry, etc., may
be brought to bear well in March, April, and May, if they are only
carefully tended through the previous hot and damp season, which is,
in respect to the functions of flowering and fruiting, their winter.
Hence it appears that, though some English fruits will turn the
winter solstice of Bengal (November to May) into summer, and then
flower and fruit, neither these nor others will thrive in the summer
of 7000 feet on the Sikkim Himalaya, (though its temperature so
nearly approaches that of England,) on account of its rain and fogs.
Further, they are often exposed to a winter's cold equal to the
average of that of London, the snow lying for a week on the ground,
and the thermometer descending to 25 degrees. It is true that in no
case is the extreme of cold so great here as in England, but it is
sufficient to check vegetation, and to prevent fruit-trees from
flowering till they are fruiting in the plains. There is in this
respect a great difference between the climate of the central and
eastern and western Himalaya, at equal elevations. In the western
(Kumaon, etc.) the winters are colder than in Sikkim--the summers
warmer and less humid. The rainy season is shorter, and the sun
shines so much more frequently between the heavy showers, that the
apple and other fruits are brought to a much better state. It is true
that the rain-gauge may show as great a fall there, but this is no
measure of the humidity of the atmosphere, and still less so of the
amount of the sun's direct light and heat intercepted by aqueous
vapour, for it takes no account of the quantity of moisture suspended
in the air, nor of the depositions from fogs, which are far more
fatal to the perfecting of fruits than the heaviest brief showers.
The Indian climate, which is marked by one season of excessive
humidity and the other of excessive drought, can never be favourable
to the production either of good European or tropical fruits.
Hence there is not one of the latter peculiar to the country, and
perhaps but one which arrives at full perfection; namely, the mango.
Tile plantains, oranges, and pine-apples are less abundant, of
inferior kinds, and remain a shorter season in perfection than they
do in South America, the West Indies, or Western Africa.
Illustration -- LEPCHA AMULET.