Tassiding, view of and from -- Funereal cypress -- Camp at Sunnook --
Hot vapours -- Lama's house -- Temples, decorations, altars, idols,
general effect -- Chaits -- Date of erection -- Plundered by Ghorkas
-- Cross Ratong -- Ascend to Pemiongchi -- Relation of river-beds to
strike of rocks -- Slopes of ravines -- Pemiongchi, view of --
Vegetation -- Elevation -- Temple, decorations, etc. -- Former
capital of Sikkim -- History of Sikkim -- Nightingales -- Campbell
departs -- Tchonpong -- Edgeworthia -- Cross Rungbee and Ratong --
Hoar-frost on plantains -- Yoksun -- Walnuts -- View -- Funereal
cypresses -- Doobdi -- Gigantic cypresses -- Temples -- Snow-fall --
Sikkim, etc. -- Toys.
Tassiding hill is the steep conical termination of a long spur from a
pine-clad shoulder of Kinchinjunga, called Powhungri: it divides the
Great Rungeet from its main feeder, the Ratong, which rises from the
south face of Kinchin. We crossed the former by a bridge formed of
two bamboo stems, slung by canes from two parallel arches of stout
branches lashed together.
The ascent for 2,800 feet was up a very steep, dry, zigzag path,
amongst mica slate rocks (strike north-east), on which grew many
tropical plants, especially the "Tukla," (_Rottlera tinctoria_), a
plant which yields a brown dye. The top was a flat, curving
north-west and south-east, covered with temples, chaits, and mendongs
of the most picturesque forms and in elegant groups, and fringed with
brushwood, wild plantains, small palms, and apple-trees. Here I saw
for the first time the funereal cypress, of which some very old trees
spread their weeping limbs and pensile branchlets over the
buildings.* [I was not then aware of this tree having been introduced
into England by the intrepid Mr. Fortune from China; and as I was
unable to procure seeds, which are said not to ripen in Sikkim, it
was a great and unexpected pleasure, on my return home, to find it
alive and flourishing at Kew.] It is not wild in Sikkim, but imported
there and into Bhotan from Tibet: it does not thrive well above 6000
feet elevation. It is called "Tchenden" by the Lepchas, Bhoteeas,
and Tibetans, and its fragrant red wood is burnt in the temples.
Illustration--GROUP OF CHAITS AT PASSIDING.
The Lamas met us on the top of the hill, bringing a noble present of
fowls, vegetables and oranges, the latter most acceptable after our
long and hot march. The site is admirably chosen, in the very heart
of Sikkim, commanding a fine view, and having a considerable river on
either side, with the power of retreating behind to the convents of
Sunnook and Powhungri, which are higher up on the same spur, and
surrounded by forest enough to conceal an army. Considering the
turbulent and warlike character of their neighbours, it is not
wonderful that the monks should have chosen commanding spots, and
good shelter for their indolent lives: for the same reason these
monasteries secured views of one another: thus from Tassiding the
great temple of Pemiongchi was seen towering 3000 feet over head,
whilst to the north-west, up the course of the river, the hill-sides
seemed sprinkled with monasteries.
We camped on a saddle near the village of Sunnook, at 4000 feet above
the sea; and on the last day of the year we visited this most
interesting monastic establishment: ascending from our camp along the
ridge by a narrow path, cut here and there into steps, and passing
many rocks covered with inscriptions, broken walls of mendongs, and
other remains of the _via sacra_ between the village and temple.
At one spot we found a fissure emitting hot vapour of the temperature
of 65.5 degrees, that of the air being about 50 degrees. It was
simply a hole amongst the rocks; and near the Rungeet a similar one
is said to occur, whose temperature fluctuates considerably with the
season. It is very remarkable that such an isolated spring should
exist on the top of a sharp ridge, 2,800 feet above the bottom of
this deep valley.
The general arrangement on the summit was, first the Lamas' houses
with small gardens, then three large temples raised on rudely paged
platforms, and beyond these, a square walled enclosure facing the
south, full of chaits and mendongs, looking like a crowded cemetery,
and planted with funereal cypress (_Cupressus funebris_).
The house of the principal Lama was an oblong square, the lower
story of stone, and the upper of wood: we ascended a ladder to the
upper room, which was 24 feet by 8 wattled all round, with prettily
latticed windows opening upon a bamboo balcony used for drying grain,
under the eaves of the broad thatched roof. The ceiling (of neat
bamboo work) was hung with glorious bunches of maize, yellow, red,
and brown; an altar and closed wicker cage at one end of the room
held the Penates, and a few implements of worship. Chinese carpets
were laid on the floor for us, and the cans of Murwa brought round.
The Lama, though one of the red sect, was dressed in a yellow
flowered silk robe, but his mitre was red: he gave us much
information relative to the introduction of Boodhism into Sikkim.
The three temples stand about fifty yards apart, but are not parallel
to one another, although their general direction is east and west.*
[Timkowski, in his travels through Mongolia (i. p. 193), says,
"According to the rules of Tibetan architecture, temples should face
the south:" this is certainly not the rule in Sikkim, nor, so far as
I could learn, in Tibet either.] Each is oblong, and narrowed
upwards, with the door at one end; the middle (and smallest) faces
the west, the others the east: the doorways are all broad, low and
deep, protected by a projecting carved portico. The walls are
immensely thick, of well-masoned slaty stones; the outer surface of
each slopes upwards and inwards, the inner is perpendicular.
The roofs are low and thickly thatched, and project from eight to ten
feet all round, to keep off the rain, being sometimes supported by
long poles. There is a very low upper story, inhabited by the
attendant monks and servants, accessible by a ladder at one end of
the building. The main body of the temple is one large apartment,
entered through a small transverse vestibule, the breadth of the
temple, in which are tall cylindrical praying-machines. The carving
round the doors is very beautiful, and they are gaudily painted
and gilded.
Illustration--DOORWAY.
The northern temple is quite plain: the middle one is simply painted
red, and encircled with a row of black heads, with goggle eyes and
numerous teeth, on a white ground; it is said to have been originally
dedicated to the evil spirits of the Lepcha creed. The southern,
which contains the library, is the largest and best, and is of an
irregular square shape. The inside walls and floors are plastered
with clay, and painted with allegorical representations of Boodh,
etc. From the vestibule the principal apartment is entered by broad
folding-doors, studded with circular copper bosses, and turning on
iron hinges. It is lighted by latticed windows, sometimes protected
outside by a bamboo screen. Owing to the great thickness of the walls
(three to four feet), a very feeble light is admitted. In the
principal temple, called "Dugang," six hexagonal wooden columns,
narrowed above, with peculiar broad transverse capitals, exquisitely
gilded and painted, support the cross-beams of the roof, which are
likewise beautifully ornamented. Sometimes a curly-maned gilt lion is
placed over a column, and it is always furnished with a black bushy
tail: squares, diamonds, dragons, and groups of flowers, vermilion,
green, gold, azure, and white, are dispersed with great artistic
taste over all the beams; the heavier masses of colour being
separated by fine white lines.
Illustration--SOUTHERN TEMPLE.
The altars and idols are placed at the opposite end; and two long
parallel benches, like cathedral stalls, run down the centre of the
building: on these the monks sit at prayer and contemplation, the
head Lama occupying a stall (often of very tasteful design) near
the altar.
Illustration--MIDDLE TEMPLE.
The principal Boodh, or image, is placed behind the altar under a
canopy, or behind a silk screen: lesser gods, and gaily dressed and
painted effigies of sainted male or female persons are ranged on
either side, or placed in niches around the apartment, sometimes with
separate altars before them; whilst the walls are more or less
covered with paintings of monks in prayer or contemplation.
The principal Boodh (Sakya Sing) sits cross-legged, with the left
heel up: his left-hand always rests on his thigh, and holds the padmi
or lotus and jewel, which is often a mere cup; the right-hand is
either raised, with the two forefingers up, or holds the dorje, or
rests on the calf of the upturned leg. Sakya has generally curled
hair, Lamas have mitres, females various head-dresses; most wear
immense ear-rings, and some rosaries. All are placed on rude
pediments, so painted as to convey the idea of their rising out of
the petals of the pink, purple, or white lotus. None are in any way
disagreeable; on the contrary most have a calm and pleasing
expression, suggestive of contemplation.
Illustration--ALTAR AND IMAGES.
Central figure Akshobya, the first of the Pancha Boodha.
The great or south temple contained a side altar of very elegant
shape, placed before an image encircled by a glory. Flowers, juniper,
peacock's feathers, pastiles, and rows of brass cups of water were
the chief ornaments of the altars, besides the instruments I have
elsewhere enumerated. In this temple was the library, containing
several hundred books, in pigeon-holes, placed in recesses.* [For a
particular account of the images and decorations of these temples,
sea Dr. Campbell's paper in "Bengal Asiatic Society's Trans.," May,
1849. The principal object of veneration amongst the Ningma or red
sect of Boodhists in Sikkim and Bhotan is Gorucknath, who is always
represented sitting cross-legged, holding the dorje in one hand,
which is raised; whilst the left rests in the lap and holds a cup
with a jewel in it. The left arm supports a trident, whose staff
pierces three sculls (a symbol of Shiva), a rosary hangs round his
neck, and he wears a red mitre with a lunar crescent and sun
in front.]
Illustration--PLAN OF THE SOUTH TEMPLE.
A. entrance; B. four praying cylinders; C. altar, with seven brass
cups of water; D. four columns; E. and F. images; G. library.
The effect on entering these cold and gloomy temples is very
impressive; the Dugang in particular is exquisitely ornamented and
painted, and the vista from the vestibule to the principal idol, of
carved and coloured pillars and beams, is very picturesque.
Within, the general arrangement of the colours and gilding is felt to
be harmonious and pleasing, especially from the introduction of
slender white streaks between the contrasting masses of colour, as
adopted in the Great Exhibition building of 1851. It is also well
worthy of remark that the brightest colours are often used in broad
masses, and when so, are always arranged chromatically, in the
sequence of the rainbow's hues, and are hence never displeasing to
the eye. The hues, though bright, are subdued by the imperfect light:
the countenances of the images are all calm, and their expression
solemn. Whichever way you turn, the eye is met by some beautiful
specimen of colouring or carving, or some object of veneration.
The effect is much heightened by the incense of juniper and
sweet-smelling herbs which the priests burn on entering, by their
grave and decorous conduct, and by the feeling of respect that is
demanded by a religion which theoretically inculcates and adores
virtue in the abstract, and those only amongst men who practise
virtue. To the idol itself the Boodhist attaches no real importance;
it is an object of reverence, not of worship, and no virtue or
attribute belong to it _per se_; it is a symbol of the creed, and the
adoration is paid to the holy man whom it represents.
Beyond the temples are the chaits and mendongs, scattered without
much order; and I counted nearly twenty-five chaits of the same
form,* [In Sikkim the form of the cube alone is always strictly
preserved; that of the pyramid and hemisphere being often much
modified. The cube stands on a flight of usually three steps, and is
surmounted by a low pyramid of five steps; on this is placed a
swelling, urn-shaped body, which represents the hemisphere, and is
surmounted by another cube. On the latter is a slender, round or
angled spire (represented by a pyramid in Burma), crowned with a
crescent and disc, or sun, in moon. Generally, the whole is of stone,
with the exception of the spire, which is of wood, painted red.]
between eight and thirty feet high. The largest is consecrated to the
memory of the Rajah's eldest son, who, however, is not buried here.
A group of these structures is, as I have often remarked, extremely
picturesque, and those at Tassiding, from their number, variety, and
size, their commanding and romantic position, and their being
interspersed with weeping cypresses, are particularly so.
The Tassiding temples and convents were founded upwards of 300 years
ago, by the Lamas who accompanied the first Rajah to Sikkim; and they
have been continuously served by Lamas of great sanctity, many of
whom have been educated at Lhassa. They were formerly very wealthy,
but during the Nepal war they were plundered of all their treasures,
their silver gongs and bells, their best idols, dorjes, and manis,
and stripped of their ornaments; since which time Pemiongchi has been
more popular. In proof of their antiquity, it was pointed out that
most of the symbols and decorations were those of pure Lama Boodhism,
as practised in Tibet.
Although the elevation is but 4,840 feet, the weather was cold and
raw, with rain at noon, followed by thunder and lightning.
These electrical disturbances are frequent about midsummer and
midwinter, prevailing over many parts of India.
_January 1st_, 1849.--The morning of the new year was bright and
beautiful, though much snow had fallen on the mountains; and we left
Sunnook for Pemiongchi, situated on the summit of a lofty spur on the
opposite side of the Ratong. We descended very steeply to the bed of
the river (alt. 2,480 feet) which joins the Great Rungeet below the
convents. The rocks were micaceous, dipping west and north-west 45
degrees, and striking north and north-east, which direction prevailed
for 1000 feet or so up the opposite spur. I had observed the same dip
and stroke on the east flank of the Tassiding spur; but both the
Ratong on its west side, and the Great Rungeet on the east, flow in
channels that show no relation to either the dip or strike. I have
generally remarked in Sikkim that the channels of the rivers when
cutting through or flowing at the base of bluff cliffs, are neither
parallel to nor at right angles to the strike of the rocks forming
the cliffs. I do not hence conclude that there is no original
connection between the directions of the rivers, and the lines of
fracture; but whatever may have once subsisted between the direction
of the fissures and that of the strike, it is in the Sikkim Himalaya
now wholly masked by shiftings, which accompanied subequent
elevations and depressions.
Mr. Hopkins has mathematically demonstrated that the continued
exertion of a force in raising superimposed strata would tend to
produce two classes of fractures in those strata; those of the first
order at right angles to the direction of the wave or ridge (or line
of strike); those of the second order parallel to the strike.
Supposing the force to be withdrawn after the formation of the two
fractures, the result would be a ridge, or mountain chain, with
diverging fissures from the summit, crossed by concentric fissures;
and the courses which the rivers would take in flowing down the
ridge, would successively be at right angles and parallel to the
strike of the strata. Now, in the Himalaya, a prevalent strike to the
north-west has been recognised in all parts of the chain, but it is
everywhere interfered with by mountains presenting every other
direction of strike, and by their dip never remaining constant either
in amount or direction. Consequently, as might be expected, the
directions of the river channels bear no apparent relation to the
general strike of the rocks.
We crossed the Ratong (twenty yards broad) by a cane bridge,
suspended between two rocks of green chlorite, full of veins of
granite. Ascending, we passed the village of Kameti on a spur, on the
face of which were strewed some enormous detached blocks of white
and pink stratified quartz: the rocks _in situ_ were all
chlorite schist.
Looking across the valley to the flank of Mainom, the disposition of
the ridges and ravines on its sides was very evident; many of the
latter, throughout their westerly course, from their commencement at
10,000 feet, to their debouchure in the Great Rungeet at 2000, had a
bluff, cliffy, northern flank, and a sloping southern one. The dip of
the surfaces is, therefore, north-west, the exposure consequently of
the villages which occupy terraces on the south flanks of the lateral
valleys. The Tassiding spur presented exactly the same arrangement of
its ravines, and the dip of the rocks being north-west, it follows
that the planes of the sloping surfaces coincide in direction (though
not in amount of inclination) with that of the dip of the subjacent
strata, which is anything but a usual phenomenon in Sikkim.
The ascent to Pemiongchi continued very steep, through woods of oaks,
chesnuts, and magnolias, but no tree-fern, palms, _Pothos,_ or
plantain, which abound at this elevation on the moister outer ranges
of Sikkim. The temple (elev. 7,083 feet) is large, eighty feet long,
and in excellent order, built upon the lofty terminal point of the
great east and west spur that divides the Kulhait from the Ratong and
Rungbee rivers; and the great Changachelling temple and monastery
stand on another eminence of the same ridge, two miles further west.
The view of the snowy range from this temple is one of the finest in
Sikkim; the eye surveying at one glance the vegetation of the Tropics
and the Poles. Deep in the valleys the river-beds are but 3000 feet
above the sea, and are choked with fig-trees, plantains, and palms;
to these succeed laurels and magnolias, and higher up still, oaks,
chesnuts, birches, etc.; there is, however, no marked line between
the limits of these two last forests, which form the prevailing
arboreous vegetation between 4000 and 10,000 feet, and give a lurid
line to the mountains. Pine forests succeed for 2000 feet higher,
when they give place to a skirting of rhododendron and berberry.
Among these appear black naked rocks, rising up in cliffs, between
which are gulleys, down which the snow now (on the 1st January)
descended to 12,000 feet. The mountain flanks are much more steep and
rocky than those at similar heights on the outer ranges, and
cataracts are very numerous, and of considerable height, though small
in volume.
Pemiongchi is at the same elevation as Dorjiling, and the contrast
between the shoulders of 8000 to 10,000 feet on Kinchinjunga, and
those of equal height on Tendong and Tonglo, is very remarkable:
looking at the latter mountains from Dorjiling, the observer sees no
rock, waterfall, or pine, throughout their whole height; whereas the
equally wooded flanks of these inner ranges are rocky, streaked with
thread-like waterfalls, and bristling with silver firs.
This temple, the most ancient in Sikkim, is said to be 400 years old;
it stands on a paved platform, and is of the same form and general
character as those of Tassiding. Inside, it is most beautifully
decorated, especially the beams, columns, capitals and architraves,
but the designs are coarser than those of Tassiding.* [Mr. Hodgson
informed me that many of the figures and emblems in this temple are
those of Tantrica Boodhism, including Shiva, Devi, and other deities
usually called Brahminical; Kakotak, or the snake king, a figure
terminating below in a snake, is also seen; with the tiger, elephant,
and curly-maned lion.] The square end of every beam in the roof is
ornamented either with a lotus flower or with a Tibetan character, in
endless diversity of colour and form, and the walls are completely
covered with allegorical paintings of Lamas and saints expounding or
in contemplation, with glories round their heads, mitred, and holding
the dole and jewel.
Illustration--INTERIOR OF THE TEMPLE AT PEMIONGCHI.
The principal image is a large and hideous figure of Sakya-thoba, in
a recess under a blue silk canopy, contrasting with a calm figure of
the late Rajah, wearing a cap and coronet.
Pemiongchi was once the capital of Sikkim, and called the Sikkim
Durbar: the Rajah's residence was on a curious flat to the south of
the temple, and a few hundred feet below it, where are the remains of
(for this country) extensive walls and buildings. During the Nepal
war, the Rajah was driven west across the Teesta, whilst the Ghorkas
plundered Tassiding, Pemiongchi, Changachelling, and all the temples
and convents to the east of that river. It was then that the famous
history of Sikkim,* [This remarkable and beautiful manuscript was
written on thick oblong sheets of Tibet paper, painted black to
resist decay, and the letters were yellow and gold. The Nepalese
soldiers wantonly employed the sheets to roof the sheds they erected,
as a protection from the weather.] compiled by the Lamas of
Pemiongchi, and kept at this temple, was destroyed, with the
exception of a few sheets, with one of which Dr. Campbell and myself
were each presented. We were told that the monks of Changachelling
and those of this establishmont had copied what remained, and were
busy compiling from oral information, etc.: whatever value the
original may have possessed, however, is irretrievably lost.
A magnificent copy of the Boodhist Scriptures was destroyed at the
same time; it consisted of 400 volumes, each containing several
hundred sheets of Daphne paper.
The ground about the temple was snowed; and we descended a few
hundred feet, to encamp in a most picturesque grove, among chaits and
inscribed stones, with a peep of the temples above. Nightingales
warbled deliciously night and morning, which rather surprised us, as
the minimum thermometer fell to 27.8 degrees, and the ground next day
was covered with hoar-frost; the elevation being 6,580 feet.
These birds migrate hither in October and November, lingering in the
Himalayan valleys till the cold of early spring drives them further
south, to the plains of India, whence they return north in March
and April.
On the 2nd of January I parted from my friend, who was obliged to
hurry to the great annual fair at Titalya. I regretted much being
unable to accompany Dr. Campbell to this scene of his disinterested
labours, especially as the Nawab of Moorshedabad was to be present,
one of the few wealthy native princes of Bengal who still keep a
court worth seeing; but I was more anxious to continue my
explorations northward till the latest moment: I however accompanied
him for a short distance on his way towards Dorjiling. We passed the
old Durbar, called Phieungoong ("Bamboo-hill," so named from the
abundance of a small bamboo, "Phieung.") The buildings, now in ruins,
occupy a little marshy flat, hemmed in by slate rocks, and covered
with brambles and _Andromeda_ bushes. A wall, a bastion, and an
arched gateway, are the only traces of fortifications; they are
clothed with mosses, lichens, and ferns.
A steep zigzag path, descending amongst long grass and scarlet
rhododendrons, leads to the Kaysing Mendong.* [Described at Chapter
XII.] Here I bade adieu to Dr. Campbell, and toiled up the hill,
feeling very lonely. The zest with which he had entered into all my
pursuits, and the aid he had afforded me, together with the charm
that always attends companionship with one who enjoys every incident
of travel, had so attracted me to him that I found it difficult to
recover my spirits. It is quite impossible for anyone who cannot
from experience realise the solitary wandering life I had been
leading for months, to appreciate the desolate feeling that follows
the parting from one who has heightened every enjoyment, and taken
far more than his share of every annoyance and discomfort: the few
days we had spent together appeared then, and still, as months.
On my return to Pemiongchi I spent the remainder of the day sketching
in the great temple, gossiping with the Lamas, and drinking salted
and buttered tea-soup, which I had begun to like, when the butter was
not rancid.
My route hence was to be along the south flank of Kinchinjunga, north
to Jongri, which lay about four or five marches off, on the road to
the long deserted pass of Kanglanamo, by which I had intended
entering Sikkim from Nepal, when I found the route up the Yalloong
valley impracticable. The village and ruined convents of Yoksun lay
near the route, and the temples of Doobdi, Catsuperri and Molli, on
the Ratong river.
I descended to the village of Tchonpong (alt. 4,980 feet), where I
was detained a day to obtain rice, of which I required ten days'
supply for twenty-five people. On the way I passed groves of the
paper-yielding _Edgeworthia Gardneri_: it bears round heads of
fragrant, beautiful, yellow flowers, and would be a valuable
acquisition to an English conservatory.
From Tchonpong we descended to the bed of the Rungbee (alt. 3,160
feet), an affluent of the Ratong, flowing in a deep galley with
precipitous sides of mica schist full of garnets, dipping west and
north-west 45 degrees: it was spanned by a bridge of two loose bamboo
culms, about fifteen yards long, laid across without handrails; after
wet sand had been thrown on it the bare-footed coolies crossed
easily enough, but I, having shoes on, required a hand to steady me.
From this point we crossed a lofty spur to the Ratong (alt. 3000
feet), where we encamped, the coolies being unable to proceed further
on such very bad roads. This river descends from the snows of
Kinchin, and consequently retains the low temperature 42 degrees,
being fully 7 degrees colder than the Rungbee, which at an elevation
of but 3000 feet appears very remarkable: it must however be observed
that scarcely anywhere does the sun penetrate to the bottom of
its valley.
We encamped on a gravelly flat, fifty feet above the river, strewn
with water-worn boulders, and so densely covered with tall
_Artemisiae,_ gigantic grasses, bamboo, plantain, fern, and acacia,
that we had to clear a space in the jungle, which exhaled a rank
heavy smell.
Hoar-frost formed copiously in the night, and though above the sun's
rays were very powerful, they did not reach this spot till 7.30 a.m.,
the frost remaining in the shade till nearly 9 a.m.; and this on
plantains, and other inhabitants of hot-houses in England.
Hence I ascended to Yoksun, one of the most curious and picturesque
spots in Sikkim, and the last inhabited place towards Kinchinjunga.
The path was excessively steep and rocky for the first mile or two,
and then alternately steep and flat. Mixed with many tropical trees,
were walnuts of the common English variety; a tree, which, though
planted here, is wild near Dorjiling, where it bears a full-sized
fruit, as hard as a hickory-nut: those I gathered in this place were
similar, whereas in Bhotan the cultivated nut is larger,
thin-shelled, and the kernel is easily removed. We ascended one
slope, of an angle of 36 degrees 30 minutes, which was covered with
light black mould, and had been recently cleared by fire: we found
millet now cultivated on it. From the top the view of the Ratong
valley was very fine: to the north lay Yoksun, appearing from this
height to occupy a flat, two miles long and one broad, girdled by
steep mountains to the north and east, dipping very suddenly 2,200
feet to the Ratong on the west. To the right was a lofty hill,
crowned with the large temple and convents of Doobdi, shadowed by
beautiful weeping cypresses, and backed by lofty pine-clad mountains.
Northward, the gorge of the Ratong opened as a gloomy defile, above
which rose partially snowed mountains, which shut out Kinchinjunga.
To the west, massive pine-clad mountains rose steeply; while the
little hamlet of Lathiang occupied a remarkable shelf overhanging the
river, appearing inaccessible except by ropes from above. South-west,
the long spurs of Molli and Catsuperri, each crowned with convents or
temples, descended from Singalelah; and parallel to them on the
south; but much longer and more lofty, was the great mountain range
north of the Kulbait, with the temples and convents of Pemiongchi,
and Changachelling, towering in the air. The latter range dips
suddenly to the Great Rungeet, where Tassiding, with its chaits and
cypresses, closed the view. The day was half cloud, half sunshine;
and the various effects of light and shade, now bringing out one or
other of the villages and temples, now casting the deep valleys into
darker gloom, was wonderfully fine.
Yoksun was the earliest civilised corner of Sikkim, and derived its
name (which signifies in Lepcha "three chiefs") from having been the
residence of three Lamas of great influence, who were the means of
introducing the first Tibetan sovereign into the country. At present
it boasts of but little cultivation, and a scattered population,
inhabiting a few hamlets, 5,500 feet above the sea: beautiful lanes
and paths wind everywhere over the gentle slopes, and through the
copsewood that has replaced the timber-trees of a former period.
Mendongs and chaits are very numerous, some of great size; and there
are also the ruins of two very large temples, near which are some
magnificent weeping cypresses, eighty feet high. These fine trees are
landmarks from all parts of the flat; they form irregular cones of
pale bright green, with naked gnarled tops, the branches weep
gracefully, but not like the picture in Macartney's Embassy to China,
whence originated the famous willow-pattern of our crockery.
The ultimate branchlets are very slender and pendulous; my Lepcha
boys used to make elegant chaplets of them, binding the withes with
scarlet worsted. The trunk is quite erect, smooth, cylindrical, and
pine-like; it harbours no moss, but air-plants, Orchids, and ferns,
nestle on the limbs, and pendulous lichens, like our beard-moss, wave
from the branches.
In the evening I ascended to Doobdi. The path was broad, and
skilfully conducted up a very steep slope covered with forest: the
top, which is 6,470 feet above the sea, and nearly 1000 above Yoksun,
is a broad partially paved platform, on which stand two temples,
surrounded by beautiful cypresses: one of these trees (perhaps the
oldest in Sikkim) measured sixteen and a half feet in girth, at five
feet from the ground, and was apparently ninety feet high: it was not
pyramidal, the top branches being dead and broken, and the lower
limbs spreading; they were loaded with masses of white-flowered
Coelogynes, and Vacciniums. The younger trees were pyramidal.
I was received by a monk of low degree, who made many apologies for
the absence of his superior, who had been ordered an eight years'
penance and seclusion from the world, of which only three had passed.
On inquiry, I learnt the reason for this; the holy father having
found himself surrounded by a family, to which there would have been
no objection, had he previously obtained a dispensation. As, however,
he had omitted this preliminary, and was able to atone by prayer and
payment, he had been condemned to do penance; probably at his own
suggestion, as the seclusion will give him sanctity, and eventually
lead to his promotion, when his error shall have been forgotten.
Illustration--TEMPLE AND WEEPING CYPRESS.
Both temples are remarkable for their heavily ornamented, two-storied
porticos, which occupy nearly the whole of one end. The interior
decorations are in a ruinous condition, and evidently very old; they
have no Hindoo emblems.
The head Lama sent me a present of dried peaches, with a bag of
walnuts, called "Koal-kun" by the Lepchas, and "Taga-sching" by the
Bhoteeas; the two terminations alike signifying "tree."
The view of Yoksun from this height was very singular: it had the
appearance of an enormous deposit banked up against a spur to the
south, and mountains to the east, and apparently levelled by the
action of water: this deposit seemed as though, having once
completely filled the valley of the Ratong, that river had cut a
gorge 2000 feet deep between it and the opposite mountain.
Although the elevation is so low, snow falls abundantly at Doobdi in
winter; I was assured that it has been known of the depth of five
feet, a statement I consider doubtful; the quantity is, however,
certainly greater than at equal heights about Dorjiling, no doubt
owing to its proximity to Kinchinjunga.
I was amused here by watching a child playing with a popgun, made of
bamboo, similar to that of quill, with which most English children
are familiar, which propels pellets by means of a spring-trigger made
of the upper part of the quill. It is easy to conclude such
resemblances between the familiar toys of different countries to be
accidental, but I question their being really so. On the plains of
India, men may often be seen for hours together, flying what with us
are children's kites; and I procured a jews'-harp from Tibet.
These are not the toys of savages, but the amusements of people more
than half-civilised, and with whom we have had indirect communication
from the earliest ages. The Lepchas play at quoits, using slate for
the purpose, and at the Highland games of "putting the stone" and
"drawing the stone." Chess, dice, draughts, Punch, hockey, and
battledore and shuttlecock, are all Indo-Chinese or Tartarian; and no
one familiar with the wonderful instances of similarity between the
monasteries, ritual, ceremonies, attributes, vestments, and other
paraphernalia of the eastern and western churches, can fail to
acknowledge the importance of recording even the most trifling
analogies or similarities between the manners and customs of the
young as well as of the old.