_March to Bhimphede--National defences--The Cheesapany pass--Lovely
scenery--Night adventure--The watch-fire--Reception at camp--Arrival at
Katmandu_.
We had looked forward with no little anxiety to the morning following our
elephant-hunt, as we were to go in search of rhinoceros: it was therefore
a severe disappointment to us when Jung entered our tent at daylight, and
informed us that it was necessary we should at once proceed on our way to
Katmandu. The reason he gave us was, that we should have to go too far
out of our route before we could find our game: however that might be,
there was no help for it, and we commenced our march up the valley of the
Rapti, along the narrow rocky path leading to Bhimphede, our next halting-
place. It was a five hours' march, and we crossed the river thirty-two
times before we came in sight of the picturesque Durumsolah, or native
rest-house, which is situated at the head of the valley. Hills clothed
to their summits with variegated jungle rose above us to an immense but
not uniform height, and the scenery looked bolder as we became more
enclosed among the mountains.
Bhimphede is a Newar village, the inhabitants being the aborigines of the
country. It is said to derive its name from a Hindoo divinity named
Bheem having on some occasion happened to stop there. It is distant from
Hetowra about 18 miles, and the road might be much improved by a little
engineering.
The present policy of the Nepaul government is to keep the roads by which
their country is approached in as impassable a state as possible, vainly
imagining that, in case of a war, the badness of the roads would offer an
insuperable obstacle to our progress, and compel us to relinquish any
attempt to penetrate to Katmandu. This delusion ought to have been
dispelled by the occupation of Muckwanpore by Sir David Ochterlony; not
that it is a contingency they need take much trouble to provide against,
since it would never be worth our while to do more than take possession
of the Terai.
The present state of the roads renders it impossible for goods to be
conveyed into Nepaul, except upon men's backs; and as the traffic would
be considerable in various articles of commerce, the prosperity and
wealth of the country would be incalculably increased by an improvement
in the means of transit.
Jung Bahadoor is quite alive to the real state of the case, and sees at
once the absurdity of the policy pursued by the Nepaul government, but he
feels that any innovation of the sort would be too unpopular for him to
attempt in his present position. His recently imbibed liberal notions
coincide but little with the cramped ideas of a semi-barbarous durbar. He
is well aware that neither bad roads, troops, nor any other obstacle that
he could oppose to our advance, would avail in case of our invading
Nepaul. His feeling as regards a war with the British was not inaptly
expressed in a remark he once made to me,--"If a cat is pushed into a
corner it will fly at an elephant, but it will always try to keep out of
the corner as long as possible."
At Bhimphede, where we arrived about mid-day, I dismounted from the
elephant on which I had journeyed comfortably for 200 miles, and for
which I had begun to feel quite an affection, and was soon high up the
precipitous ascent of the Cheesapany pass. It crosses a mountain which
rises nearly 2000 feet above the village at its base; the path is so
steep that a horse can barely scramble up it; and the ascent of the Rigi,
in Switzerland, seemed a mere nothing in comparison: this pass in its
turn is not nearly so steep as the Chandernagiri, which is the last pass
before you descend into the valley of Katmandu.
Having so much mountain work before me, I determined on walking the rest
of the journey, that being the most satisfactory and enjoyable way of
travelling across a highland country and viewing its scenery; my
companion betook himself to a cot or dandy swung on a pole, preferring
that method of getting carried over the hills to the one in general use
amongst the natives, which I imagine is peculiar to Nepaul. An
open-mouthed conical basket, like that of the Parisian chiffonnier, but
with contents in some respects different, since this contains the
traveller and not the shreds of his exploded journal, is fastened upon
the back of a bearer by a strap across his forehead and two others over
his shoulders; the occupant sits with his legs over the rim of the
basket, and his back almost resting against the head of his bearer, who,
bending forward under the weight of his load, and grasping a long stick,
looks like some decrepit old man--a delusion which vanishes the instant
you commence the ascent of a mountain by his side, when his endurance and
vigour astonish you, if they do not knock you up.
Before we had toiled half way up the precipitous ascent, the view, that
great alleviator of fatigue to the mountain traveller, was suddenly
hidden from us by a thick mist in which we became enveloped, and which,
rolling slowly over the hills, hid from our gaze a magnificent panorama
of the lovely valley along which our morning's march had led us, and
which lay stretched at our feet. With its broad stream winding down its
centre, it reminded me of many similar valleys in Switzerland and the
Tyrol, more particularly the Engadine, as seen from the hill above
Nauders; while the hills, richly clad with masses of dark foliage, and
rising to a height of two or three thousand feet, more nearly resembled
those of the Cinnamon Isle. There is a fort near the summit of the pass
with a few hundred soldiers, and a sort of custom-house, at which two
sentries are placed for the purpose of levying a tax amounting to about
sixpence upon every bundle passing either in or out of the Nepaul
dominions; whether it be a bundle of grass or a bale of the valuable
fabric manufactured from the shawl-goat of Thibet, the same charge is
made, rendering it a grievously heavy tax upon the poor man with his load
of wood, while it is a matter of no importance to the rich merchant whose
coolies are freighted with rare and valuable merchandise.
Having accomplished nearly half the descent of the opposite side, we
emerged from the mist, and a view of a wilder valley opened up, in which
the streams were more rapid and furious, and the mountains which enclosed
it more rugged and precipitous. A few trees, principally firs, were here
and there scattered over the bare face of the mountain wherever they
could find a sufficiently-sheltered nook. Enterprising settlers had
perched themselves upon the naked shoulders of the hills, or were more
snugly ensconced below by the side of the brawling stream, which was
crossed here and there by primitive bridges, consisting of a log or two
thrown from one heap of stones to another, with a few turfs laid upon
them.
I observed in the Nepaul valleys--what must be the case in every country
in which the hills are composed of a soft material--deltas formed by the
soil which is washed down by the mountain torrents. The mass of debris
in the valley often extends quite across it, and forces the stream
through a gorge, frequently of considerable grandeur in those places
where the power of the torrent during the rains is very great.
This circumstance adds greatly to the beauty of the scenery in the Tyrol,
where the limestone formation of the hills thus worked upon spreads a
soil in swelling knolls over the valley, on which the most luxuriant
vineyards are picturesquely terraced. The effect, however, is very
different in Nepaul, where the hills are composed chiefly of gravel and
conglomerate; the deltas, consequently, produce crops of stones more
frequently than of anything else. Notwithstanding the want of
cultivation in the valley on which we were now looking down, it was full
of a sublime beauty, the mountains at either end towering to a height of
three or four thousand feet, while the path we were to follow was to be
seen on the opposite side, winding over a formidable range, and always
appearing to mount the steepest hills and to go down unnecessarily into
innumerable valleys. It was with no little regret then that we made the
almost interminable descent, apparently for the mere purpose of starting
fair from the bottom of the valley, before we commenced the arduous climb
in store for us over a range still higher than the one we had just
traversed.
We crossed the stream at the bottom by a single-arched bridge of curious
mechanism and peculiar to the Himalayas, the chief advantage being the
large span, which admits of an immense body of water rushing through; a
necessary precaution in the case of a mountain torrent. We then toiled
up the hillside by a fearfully narrow path. At times my companion seemed
absolutely hanging over the precipice; and our path was not in some
places above twelve inches broad; had we slipped we must inevitably have
become food for the fishes in the Pomonia, which was gliding rapidly
along some hundreds of feet below, and which we were informed was a good
trouting stream.
At last we reached the summit of the range, from which we had a lovely
view of the surrounding country; the hills were just tipped by the
setting sun; but this fact, while it added to the beauty of the scene,
materially detracted from our enjoyment of it. In a few moments more we
should be benighted, and we had still two hours' walk to the village for
which we were bound. Accordingly, we had scarcely commenced the descent
when it became so dark that it was no longer possible to distinguish the
path; and having a vivid recollection of the precipices I had already
passed, I felt no inclination to risk a fall of a few hundred feet. After
making some little progress by feeling our way with sticks, we found it
hopeless, and fairly gave in, having no alternative but to make the
narrow path we were on our resting-place for the remainder of the night.
This was a most disagreeable prospect, and we regretted that we had
allowed Jung and his suite to ride on. The minister had recommended us
to follow in cots, as he thought the road was too bad for men accustomed
to level country to ride along. It was vain to tell him that we could
ride where he could, or that we had seen hills before we came to Nepaul;
he insisted that he was responsible for our safety, and would not hear of
our riding. As we had little anticipated so arduous a march at starting,
we had not thought it worth while further to contest the point with one
who knew the country so well; and now, when it was too late, we sincerely
wished ourselves comfortably lodged in his camp.
I had already walked for six consecutive hours over roads exceeding in
danger and difficulty most of the mountain passes in Switzerland, and
began to feel fatigued and not a little hungry, seeing that I had not
touched a morsel of food since daybreak, with the exception of a crust of
bread that I had found in my pocket. Thus the prospect of stretching
myself out on a slippery path, with a stone for my pillow, and the
contemplation of my miseries for my supper, was anything but agreeable.
As we were in this humour it was not to be wondered at that an
intelligent soldier, whom we had for a guide, came in for a certain
amount of our indignation when he informed us that it was still four coss
(eight miles) to Pheer Phing, the place to which we were bound. Base
deceiver!--he had told us at starting that it was not quite four coss,
and now, after walking hard for six hours, we had got rather farther from
it than we were at starting. It was impossible, at this rate, to say
when our journey would come to an end. Nor could we get him to admit his
error, and own that one or other of his statements must be wrong. He was
a good-hearted fellow withal, and bore us no malice for our ill temper,
but gave me a walking-stick and an orange as peace-offerings. However,
he rigidly maintained his assertion as to the distance, at the same time
suggesting that we should push on, encouraging us with the assurance that
the rest of the path was a maidan or dead level. As he had made a
similar statement at starting, and as the only bit of level walking we
could remember was a log bridge, over which we had crossed, we knew too
well what amount of confidence to put in this assertion.
At last one of the bearers who had gone on to explore the path ahead came
back with the animating intelligence "that he saw a fire." We therefore
determined to make for it with all diligence, and soon perceived the
bright glare of a large watch-fire, with a party of soldiers crowded
round it. We gladly joined them, and while one of their number was sent
forward for torches we rolled ourselves in our cloaks near the crackling
blaze, for the night was bitterly cold; and, heaping up fresh logs upon
the fire, a bright flame lit up the wild scene.
We forgot our miseries as we watched the picturesque group of weather-
beaten Ghorkas, or gathered what we could from their conversation, of
their opinions upon the politics of the country, and the trip of the
prime minister, on both which subjects they expressed themselves pretty
freely, and took pains to impress upon us how anxious they were for our
safe arrival in camp, informing us that their heads would be the price of
any accident that should happen to us. At last the torches were seen
flickering on the opposite hill, and soon afterwards we commenced our
march in picturesque procession, passing over rugged ascents, across
brawling rocky streams, and down dark romantic glens, until we began to
think that the existence of Pheer Phing was a fiction.
It was about nine o'clock when I perceived we had entered a town which,
by its brick pavement and high houses, I concluded to be a large one.
After crossing three ranges of mountains, each nearly two thousand feet
high, we did not much speculate upon anything but the distance still to
be travelled; and the numerous lights twinkling in the distance were a
welcome evidence of the proximity of Jung's encampment. The minister
came out and received us cordially, expressing his regret at our
misadventure and the anxiety he had been in as to our fate; for the route
we had taken was not the ordinary one, but one of those short cuts which
so often prove the unwary traveller's greatest misfortune. As our
servants had not yet come up, he insisted upon our partaking of the
repast he had prepared for us. I did not require a second invitation,
and all scruples vanished as I looked with delight at the little leaf
cups containing the scented greasy condiments formerly despised, and
unhesitatingly plunged my fingers (for of course there were no spoons or
forks) into a mass of rice and mixed it incontinently with everything
within reach, disregarding the Jung's remonstrances, that this was salt-
fish and the other sweetmeat, and that they would not be good together.
After fasting for fifteen hours, and being in hard exercise the greater
part of that time, one is not disposed to be particular, and to this day
I have not the slightest conception what I devoured for the first ten
minutes; at the end of that time my first sensation was peculiarly
disagreeable--namely, that my hunger was sufficiently appeased to allow
me to consider what I was eating; at this point I stopped, still rather
hungry, but better off than my companion, who, having retained his
presence of mind, had not touched anything.
We now got into palanquins prepared for us, and arrived at the residency
at Katmandu at three in the morning, in a comatose state, arising partly
from fatigue, partly from drowsiness, but chiefly, I imagine, from
peculiar feeding.