VISIT TO THE HIMALAYAH MOUNTAINS.
Our party, consisting of three officers of my regiment and myself,
started on the evening of the 1st of August, and having halted during
the heat of the next day at a house on the road, erected for the
convenience of travellers by government, we reached the foot of the
hills at daybreak on the 3rd instant.
We remained at a small inn recently established there, awaiting an
interval in the torrents of rain which were descending, before we
commenced our ascent. After the greater part of the day had passed
without the occurrence of this lucid interval, I started with one
of our party to mount the precipitous hills which towered above us,
enveloped in mist. We procured two sturdy little mountain-ponies,
that despised our weight, and, dashing through the torrents of rain,
breasted the rough acclivity. The mountains from Rajpore rise abruptly
in a constant succession of sharp and lofty peaks, whose sides from
beneath appear nearly perpendicular. The roads, which are about two
yards in breadth, are cut round the sides of the mountains, and winding
by a gradual ascent round some, conduct you slowly upwards; on others,
the circuit being impeded, or too extensive for the former system,
a zig-zag road is made, to bring you more rapidly, though much more
laboriously, to their brow, whence a ridge frequently stretches across
to the adjacent mountains.
The spirited little hill-ponies carried us fearlessly across these
narrow passes, on each side of which a yawning abyss frequently
descends, till lost to sight amid the gloomy shade of the rocks and
shrubs projecting from its sides; whilst the mountain torrents, roaring
above and beneath, and frequently dashing, in their impetuous course,
across the path you are pursuing, present a wild and magnificent sight.
Night had far advanced, and our ponies began to exhibit unequivocal
symptoms of weariness from their severe toil, when we arrived at the
hotel, then standing at Mussouri, for the reception of travellers.
Here we soon divested ourselves of our well-soaked garments, and
enjoyed the unusual Eastern luxury of a blazing fire.
Next morning, the weather having cleared up, I sallied forth to enjoy
the varied and beautiful scenery, and scrambled to the summit of
Landour, which stands about 7000 feet above the level of the sea. On
the front, towered the Tyne range, about 10,000 feet in height; and
far beyond these, Jumnootri and Gungootri, whence flow the sources
of the Jumna and Ganges, are visible, their summits glittering with
everlasting snow, from an elevation of 24,000 feet. On the right of
this barrier of eternal snow, was dimly visible the peak of Dwalagiri,
whose hoary heights, though untrodden by the foot of mortal man, have
been measured by his ingenuity, and pronounced to be the loftiest in
the world.[7]
Dazzled with the resplendent and gorgeous scene, whose reflection from
the morning sun became too much for the eye to endure, I turned to
look down on the beautiful and fertile valley of the Doune, which lay
stretched beneath, and through which the Ganges, extricating itself
from the mountains, rushed, in its turbid and meandering course,
into the plains; whilst on the other side of the same fairy valley,
the clear and stately Jumma flowed majestically onwards, to unite its
crystal waters with its sister river at Allahabad.
The scenery here is excessively striking to the traveller, on account
of the miserably barren and uninteresting flats he must traverse ere
reaching these mountains, which nature appears to have raised to a
stupendous elevation, in atonement for her negligence to other parts
of Hindostan. The mild climate of these regions has rendered them a
favourite resort, during the summer months, for the families of those
eking out their eastern servitude; and many neat villas, partaking more
of the character of European than of Asiatic architecture, ornament
the sides and summits of Landour and Mussouri. The woods, which cover
with great luxuriance the lower ranges of hills, from the base to
the summit, constitute the principal beauty of the mountains. The
trees most abundant near Landour are the oak and rhododendron; the
latter grows to a large size, and produces a rich crimson flower, far
exceeding in size and brilliancy of colour the shrub producing that
blossom in England; and in the spring so great is its abundance, that
it appears to cast a ruddy hue on the sides of the mountains. In the
interior of the mountains, I have seen, growing wild, almost every kind
of fruit tree[8] met with in Europe. Here is also a very beautiful and
gigantic fir growing in the higher altitudes, termed the deodar, which
is peculiar, I believe, to the Himalayahs, and much valued for its
durable properties when used in building.
The rains continued to fall with untiring assiduity until the latter
part of September.
Early in October, I set out with a party of friends on a tour in
the interior. We were each provided with a small tent holding a
bed and table, which, in addition to our guns and a few bottles of
wine and spirits, were all we could take with us; for so rugged and
precipitous are the paths, that everything belonging to travellers
in these mountains must be carried by the Paharries, (natives of the
mountains,) who scramble up the steepest precipices with considerable
loads strapped on their backs. There is generally much difficulty in
procuring a quantum sufficit of these useful animals. The natives of
the plains have a great aversion to the climate of the mountains, which
usually disagrees with them, and cannot be made of much use in a
journey in the interior. The Paharries, indeed, have a similar feeling
towards the plains, and can seldom be prevailed on to remain any length
of time in the lower regions.
From Landour we descended amongst the thick brushwood, and long tangled
grass which clad the mountain sides until we reached the bottom of a
kudd, or valley, not far above the level of the plains, through which
foamed an impetuous mountain torrent. We had some difficulty in fording
this stream, on account of its rapidity and the quantity of large
moveable stones in its bed. Being surrounded by precipitous mountains,
which completely intercepted every current of air, the heat in this
valley was exceedingly oppressive. The vegetation around us was most
luxuriant, and it was with considerable toil we forced our way through
the wilderness of shrubs, interwoven with long matted grass.
We now commenced the abrupt ascent of the Tyne mountains, along a
narrow Paharrie track, where the footing was extremely precarious,
and a false step would have consigned the perpetrator to the tender
mercies of the sharp pointed rocks several hundred feet beneath. About
nightfall it became very difficult to distinguish the track, but our
ponies, who scrambled along without any accidents behind us, seeming to
make light of the matter, we mounted and trusted to their sagacity.
I had cause, ere long, to repent this misplaced confidence, for, on
turning a sharp angle of rock, I was interrupted during an energetic
argument with my successor by a most appalling stumble, and, in an
instant, disappeared with my faithless quadruped, from the eyes of my
astonished brother disputant.
A few feet under the ledge of rock grew a kind hearted shrub, (better
deserving of immortality than the tree of murderous intentions upon
Horace,) which I embraced and clung to with affectionate eagerness. My
poor pony fared otherwise, and by the crashing amongst the stones and
shrubs underneath, I had cause to conjecture he was suffering bitter
punishment for his error: far from it, the fall had soon been converted
into a roll, on the fortunately gradual slope of this especial spot,
and we found him busily engaged with the thick grass which had
preserved, and was now nourishing, the little viper.
The moon now made her appearance, and we reached a platform of land
where fields of wheat and barley announced the vicinity of a village,
whose mud huts we descried on the side of a steep ravine; above which
towered a noble grove of the picturesque and lofty deodar. Under these
we pitched our tents, and soon became unconscious alike of time and
place.
Rising at daybreak, we recommenced the toilsome ascent, and, shortly
after noon, reached the summit, whence was beheld an apparently endless
range of mountain upon mountain, the nearest bristling with forests,
the furthest hoary with snow. The description would be but a continual
recurrence to the same imagery, so much does, nature resemble herself
in the drapery which she has spread on these wild regions.
Next morning, we commenced our preparations for the chase, and having
each taken up a position, our dogs and Paharries entered the heavy
cover, each giving tongue as the game started. The ear was now awake
with intense expectation; the before-predominating silence was broken
by echoed sounds.
The whirr of the gaudy pheasant as he sprang upwards from the covert,
was succeeded by the roar of the murderous fowling-piece ringing his
death-knell among his native hills; and the sharp crack of the rifle
followed the track of the deer, as he dashed from the woods, and
bounded wildly down the rocky precipices.
I had remained perched on my rock, contemplating the scene for a
considerable time without being called upon to use my weapons, when
suddenly a noble tehr[9] stood before me, his long dun hair hanging
in ringlets over his body, and his head erect, listening to the cries
of the beaters, now growing faint in the distance. I hastily snatched
up my rifle, (as I thought,) and taking a steady aim at his shoulder,
fired. Though barely forty yards from me, to my utter surprise, he
dashed away unharmed, and in two minutes I saw him bounding at full
speed along the ridge of a hill nearly a mile off. Turning away in
silent disgust, I felt almost inclined to vent my anger on the rifle,
but discovered that, in the haste of the moment, in lieu of the rifle
I had snatched up a fowling-piece loaded with shot. Having lost an
opportunity such as is rarely met with in tehr shooting, for they rank
among the wildest of mountain game, I descended the hill in search of
my companions, but they were far away, and I contented myself with the
pursuit of small game.
At nightfall, our party straggled into camp, having all had but poor
sport, which was a trifling consolation to me.
The game in these mountains, though of great variety, are exceedingly
difficult to come at, owing to the heavy coverts which shelter them,
and it is by no means singular for the best sportsmen to return empty
handed. During my residence in the Himalayahs, I have frequently
wandered the greater part of the day without meeting with a head
of game--at other times, by being on the spot by daybreak, I have
succeeded in bringing down two or three chamois before sunrise. It is
requisite to approach them with great caution, and always from above;
if the first ball be unsuccessful, the deer will sometimes wheel
suddenly round, and stop from full speed to ascertain the reason of the
interruption.
The gooral (or, more intelligibly speaking, the chamois) affords the
best sport of all the mountain tribe. He is to be found early in the
morning, feeding among the long grass, generally on the side of the
steepest mountains, and must be carefully stalked, for his senses are
of a refined order. When wounded, he often leads his destroyer a chase
of many a weary mile down the steepest kudds, and over sharp pointed
rocks, where the trail must be followed by the signs of the mountain
dew brushed from the surface of the grass, or the rocks stained by the
ebbing blood of the stricken animal. The sagacity of the Paharries
in following this trail, and the sharpness of their sight, are very
remarkable, in contradistinction to their neighbours of the plains; but
the fact is easily accounted for, from their having exercised these
faculties in the chase from childhood amongst the same scenes, as they
very seldom quit their native mountains. I have often seen a Paharrie
detect, at the first glance, over a mountain, a gooral feeding on the
further side, at a distance which took some landmark given me by my
companion to ascertain the spot, and I have hardly ever known them to
err. They are a hardy, active and courageous race, who, having been a
most formidable foe to the British in the earlier periods of Indian
warfare, have, now that they have enlisted under the banners of the
Company, proved the bravest and best of the native army.
Many kinds of deer are to be found amongst the mountains, and an
endless variety of the feathered tribe, amongst which the most
remarkable are the distinct species of pheasants which haunt the
mountains, the species varying with the altitude; but this subject is
rather too plentiful a theme for the present narrative, and must be
left to competent ornithologists.
The Jerrow, or maha, is the noblest specimen of the stag to be met
with, and may be ranked as the elk of the Himalayah. He stands from
four to five feet in height; his colour is a rich brown, and his
antlers, branching into six on each side, have obtained for him the
name of bara singh[10] in the plains. During the day time, they usually
lie in the heaviest jungle; but at morning and evening they may be seen
grazing in the rich pastures, and usually in pairs. The Jerrow, as he
stalks majestically through the woods, bearing proudly aloft his high
branching antlers, looks the undisputed monarch of the mountain forests.
The next in size to the Jerrow is a deer about three and a half feet
in height at full growth, and termed the Surrow. He is of a dark hue,
with short deflected horns, thickly built, and with coarse bristling
hair, much like the wild hog. His head and shoulders resemble a donkey
ornamented with a horse's mane and a goat's horns. This scarce and
singular beast has a spirit in proportion to his deformity.
His habitation is among the gloomiest rocks and caverns, and when
roused from his solitude he prepares readily for the conflict, and
charges with desperate ferocity.
I remember an encounter between a brother-officer and sportsman, in
the hills, and a surrow, which he had wounded, which nearly proved
serious to the gallant and athletic soldier. M... threw himself upon
the wounded animal, when he charged, and seized him in his iron grasp,
so as to pinion the surrow and prevent his making use of his deadly
antlers. The struggle continued a long time; the deer ultimately
succeeded in getting his head free, and immediately struck savagely
backwards with his horns, when M... narrowly escaped the fatal stroke,
and casting himself sideways, grasped the surrow's neck with one arm,
so that he could not use his horns with effect, while with the other he
succeeded in drawing a clasp-knife, which put an end to the contest.
Besides the animals above mentioned, the Himalayahs can show to the
persevering sportsman the small kaukur, or barking deer, the musk-deer,
the hog deer, and in the snowy regions, the ibex, and burral, or wild
sheep. The tiger and leopard frequent the deepest valleys of the lower
ranges, and, late in the autumn, the bear-shooting of these mountains
will rank with any sport that is to be met with in India.
I was preparing for the journey towards the sources of the Ganges,
when a most unwelcome visitor, in the shape of a fever, summoned me
homewards. It was in vain to struggle any longer with my obstinate
antagonist, so I yielded to the advice of my fellow-travellers, and
turned my back for ever on these wild and glorious mountains. The
floor-cloth of my tent was taken up, and the two corners bound together
by ropes which also attached it to the tent pole. In this primitive
conveyance I was borne by eight Paharries homewards to Landour.
The jolting I underwent, and the stumps of trees that left their
numerous prints on my back, brought me in a few hours into a state
bordering on delirium. On descending the last valley before reaching
Landour, a severer thump than usual caused me to start up, and bless
my tormentors; the pole of the litter snapped, and away I rolled, with
my dusky companions, towards the lower regions. The circular motion
soon made me so giddy, that I might have rolled unconsciously into the
next world, but my guardian angel interposed a little copse of bamboos
between me and it. When I had recovered the senses remaining to me, and
peered out of the copse to ascertain the locale of my fellow rollers,
it was with feelings of mortification I counted and found all present
and sound except one, who had luckily broken his nose.
Two hours after this event, I found myself in bed, contemplating
the surgeon, as he tried the point of his lancet, with the feelings
which a pig evidently possesses and betrays on perceiving the butcher
sharpening his knife, preparatory to the final gash.
The fever was not unto death, as the reader (if there be such a person)
will doubtless have concluded by the continuance of my narrative, and
therefore as I cannot hope to excite much sympathy for my sufferings,
or doubt as to the result, I had better recover at once, especially as
that will occupy but a few words in the present instance, though it
took me five weeks at that time.
I had scarcely recovered my strength after this attack, when news of
a most warlike character arrived from the lower regions, inducing me
to start immediately to rejoin my regiment, which it was rumoured was
about to proceed immediately on active service. I reached Merut after
two days' journey, and found all minds intent upon the approaching
campaign in Scinde and Affghanistan.
I had not been many days in cantonments, before conjecture was changed
to certainty, by the arrival of despatches from head-quarters,
ordering my regiment to form part of the army destined to assemble at
Ferozepore on the Sutlej, about the latter end of November.
All now was bustle and business in our previously quiet cantonment.
The furnace in the armourer's forge glowed with as much assiduity,
and more brilliancy, doubtless, than that of yore at the shrine of
the incomprehensible Vesta. On every side were heard the clicking of
carbine and pistol locks; swords and lance-points sent sparkles of
fire from countless grindstones, and above all other sounds rose the
tumultuous din of the anvils.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 7: The peak of Dwalagiri exceeds 27,000 feet.]
[Footnote 8: I hear that botanists deny the unity of the genus.]
[Footnote 9: The tehr is a mountain goat.]
[Footnote 10: Bara singh--twelve horns.]