LAY OF LAND.
The first idea prevailing about Tea was that it should be planted on
slopes. It was thought, and truly, that the plant was impatient of
stagnant water, and so it is, but it is not necessary to plant it
on slopes in consequence. Pictures of Chinese, suspended by chains
(inasmuch as the locality could not be otherwise reached), picking
Tea off bushes growing in the crevices of rocks, somewhat helped this
notion; and when stated, as it was, that the Tea produced in such
places was the finest, and commanded the highest price--which was
not true--intending planters in India went crazy in their search for
impracticable steeps! Much of the failure in Tea has arisen from this
fact, for a great part of many, the whole of some, gardens have been
planted on land so steep that the Tea can never last or thrive on it.
This is especially the case in parts of the Darjeeling district.
Sloping land is objectionable in the following respects. It cannot
be highly cultivated in any way (I hold Tea will only pay with high
cultivation), for high cultivation consists in frequent digging, to
keep the soil open and get rid of weeds, and liberal manuring. If
such soil is dug in the rainy season, it is washed down to the foot
of the hill, and if manure is applied at any time of the year, it
experiences the same fate when the rain comes. As it cannot be dug,
weeds necessarily thrive and diminish the yield by choking the plants.
The choice is therefore of two evils: “low cultivation and weeds,”
or “high cultivation which bares the roots of the plants in a
twelvemonth.” Of the two, the first _must_ be chosen, for if the latter
were pursued, the plants, getting gradually more and more denuded of
soil, would simply topple over in two or three years. But choosing the
lesser evil, the mischief is not confined to the bad effects of low
cultivation. Dig the land as little as you will, the great force of the
rains washes down a good deal of soil. The plants do not sink as the
soil lowers, and the consequence is that all Tea plants on slopes have
the lower side bare of earth and the roots exposed. This is more and
more the case the steeper the slope. These exposed roots shrivel up as
the sun acts on them, the plant languishes and yields very little leaf.
Attempts are made to remedy the mischief by carrying earth up from
below yearly, and placing it under the plant; but the expense of doing
this is great, and the palliation is only temporary, for the same thing
occurs again and again as each rainy season returns.
The mischief is greater on stiff than on sandy soils, for on the former
the earth is detached in great pieces and carried down the hill. I know
one garden in Chittagong, a large one, where the evil is so great, that
the sooner the cultivation is abandoned the better for the owners.
A great many gardens in India, indeed the majority, are on slopes; a
few in Assam, the greater number in Cachar, some in Chittagong, and
almost all the Himalayan plantations. Such of these as are on _steep_
slopes will, I believe, never pay, and instead of improving yearly (as
good gardens, highly cultivated, should do even after they have arrived
at full bearing) such, I fear, will deteriorate year by year.
Plantations on moderate slopes need not fail because of the slopes. The
evils slight slopes entail are not great, but the sooner the fact is
accepted that sloping cannot vie against flat land for the cultivation
of Tea the better.
Where only the lower parts of slopes are planted, the plants do very
well. The upper part being jungle the wash is not great, and the plants
benefit much by the rich vegetable matter the rain brings down from
above. I have often seen very fine plants on the lower part of slopes,
where the upper has been left in jungle, and I should not hesitate to
plant such portions _if_ the slope was moderate.
Where teelah land, in Eastern Bengal, or sloping land in the Himalayas,
Chittagong, or elsewhere, has to be adopted, aspect is all-important.
A good aspect in one climate is bad in another. In Assam, Cachar,
Chittagong, and all warm places, choose the coolest; at high elevations
(temperate climes), the warmest.
In the Himalayas, moreover, the warmer aspects are, as a rule, the
most fertile; _vice versâ_ in warm localities. Many a garden, which
would have done very well on the moderate slopes chosen had _only_ the
proper aspects been planted, has been ruined by planting all sides of
teelahs or hills indiscriminately. The southern and western slopes
of plantations in warm sites are generally very bare of plants. Not
strange they should be so, when the power of the reflected rays of the
afternoon sun is considered. Again, in cold climates plants cannot
thrive on northern aspects, for their great want in such climes is heat
and sunshine. Let the above fault, then, be avoided in both cases, for
though doubtless a garden is more handy, and looks better in one piece
planted all over without any intervening jungle, even patches of jungle
look better, and are decidedly cheaper, than bare cultivated hills.
Of flat land, after what I have written, I need not add much. It is
of two kinds, table and valley land; the former is very rare in Tea
districts, at least of any extent, which makes it worth while to plant
it. There are two gardens in Chittagong on such flat table land, and
they are both doing very well. Table land cannot be too flat, for the
natural drainage is so great no stagnant water can lie.[14]
Valley land is not good if it is _perfectly_ flat. It will then be
subject to inundation and stagnant water. There is nothing that kills
the plant so surely and quickly as the latter. Even quite flat valleys
can be made sweet by artificial drainage, but to do this a lower level,
not too far distant, must exist, and the danger is not quite removed
then. Valleys in which no water-course exists, and which slope towards
the mouth _alone_, are to be avoided, for the plants near the mouth
always get choked with sand. The best valleys are those with a gentle
slope both ways, one towards the lowest line of the valley, be it a
running water-course, or a dry nullah which carries off rain, the other
towards the mouth of the valley. Such valleys drain themselves, or at
least very little artificial drainage is necessary. A valley of this
kind, with a running stream through it, is _most_ valuable for Tea, and
if the other advantages of soil and climate are present it is simply a
perfect site. Such however are not frequent. If in such valleys, as is
generally the case, the slope from the head to the mouth is enough, the
running stream can be “bunded” (shut up) at a high level, and brought
along one side at a sufficient elevation to irrigate the whole.
I have never seen but one garden in a valley that fulfils all these
conditions exactly. It is in Chittagong; the soil is good, labour
plentiful, and manure abundant. It ought to do great things, for the
possibility of irrigating plants in the dry season (which, as observed,
is very trying in Chittagong) will give several extra flushes in the
year.
Of course in the wet season on such land the water must be allowed to
resume its natural course.
Narrow valleys are not worth planting. No narrow tracts of land, with
jungle on both sides, are worth the expense of cultivation, for the
continual encroachment of the jungle gives much extra work. The plants,
moreover, in very narrow valleys get half-buried with soil washed down
from the adjacent slopes. Narrow valleys are therefore, in any case,
better avoided.
To conclude shortly, flat lands can be highly cultivated, steep
slopes cannot. Tea pays best (perhaps not at all otherwise) with high
cultivation--_ergo_, flat lands are preferable.
FOOTNOTE:
[14] I am now commencing a second garden in the Western Dooars on flat
table land, and the site is an exceptionally favourable one.