Books: Himalayan Journals (Complete)

J >> J. D. Hooker >> Himalayan Journals (Complete)

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Illustration--JUNNOO 24,000 FT. FROM CHOONJERMA PASS 16,000 FT. EAST
NEPAL.

Looking south as evening drew on, another wonderful spectacle
presented itself, similar to that which I described at Sakkiazung,
but displayed here on an inconceivably grander scale, with all the
effects exaggerated. I saw a sea of mist floating 3000 feet beneath
me, just below the upper level of the black pines; the magnificent
spurs of the snowy range which I had crossed rising out of it in
rugged grandeur as promontories and peninsulas, between which the
misty ocean seemed to finger up like the fiords of Norway, or the
salt-water lochs of the west of Scotland; whilst islets tailed off
from the promontories, rising here and there out of the deceptive
elements. I was so high above this mist, that it had not the billowy
appearance I saw before, but was a calm unruffled ocean, boundless to
the south and west, where the horizon over-arched it. A little to the
north of west I discerned the most lofty group of mountains in Nepal*
[Called Tsungau by the Bhoteeas. Junnoo is called Kumbo Kurma by the
Hill-men of Nepal.] (mentioned at Chapter VIII), beyond Kinchinjurga,
which I believe are on the west flank of the great valley through
which the Arun river enters Nepal from Tibet: they were very distant,
and subtended so small an angle, that I could not measure them with
the sextant and artificial horizon their height, judging from the
quantity of snow, must be prodigious.

From 4 to 5 p.m. the temperature was 24 degrees, with a very cold
wind; the elevation by the barometer was 15,260 feet, and the
dew-point 10.5 degrees, giving the humidity 0.610, and the amount of
vapour 1.09 grains in a cubic foot of air; the same elements at
Calcutta, at the same hour, being thermometer 66.5 degrees, dew-point
60.5 degrees, humidity 0.840, and weight of vapour 5.9 grains.

I waited for an hour, examining the rocks about the pass, till the
coolies should come up, but saw nothing worthy of remark, the natural
history and geology being identical with those of Kambachen pass: I
then bade adieu to the sublime and majestic peak of Junnoo. Thence we
continued at nearly the same level for about four miles, dipping into
the broad head of a snowy valley, and ascending to the second pass,
which lay to the south-east.

On the left I passed a very curious isolated pillar of rock, amongst
the wild crags to the north-east, whose bases we skirted: it
resembles the Capuchin on the shoulder of Mont Blanc, as seen from
the Jardin. Evening overtook us while still on the snow near the last
ascent. As the sun declined, the snow at our feet reflected the most
exquisitely delicate peach-bloom hue; and looking west from the top
of the pass, the scenery was gorgeous beyond description, for the sun
was just plunging into a sea of mist, amongst some cirrhi and
stratus, all in a blaze of the ruddiest coppery hue. As it sank, the
Nepal, peaks to the right assumed more definite, darker, and gigantic
forms, and floods of light shot across the misty ocean, bathing the
landscape around me in the most wonderful and indescribable changing
tints. As the luminary was vanishing, the whole horizon glowed like
copper run from a smelting furnace, and when it had quite
disappeared, the little inequalities of the ragged edges of the mist
were lighted up and shone like a row of volcanos in the far distance.
I have never before or since seen anything, which for sublimity,
beauty, and marvellous effects, could compare with what I gazed on
that evening from Choonjerma pass. In some of Turner's pictures I
have recognized similar effects, caught and fixed by a marvellous
effort of genius; such are the fleeting hues over the ice, in his
"Whalers," and the ruddy fire in his "Wind, Steam, and Rain," which
one almost fears to touch. Dissolving views give some idea of the
magic creation and dispersion of the effects, but any combination of
science and art can no more recall the scene, than it can the
feelings of awe that crept over me, during the hour I spent in
solitude amongst these stupendous mountains.

The moon guided us on our descent, which was to the south, obliquely
into the Yalloong valley. I was very uneasy about the coolies, who
were far behind, and some of them had been frost-bitten in crossing
the Kambachen pass. Still I thought the best thing was to push on,
and light large fires at the first juniper we should reach.
The change, on passing from off the snow to the dark earth and rock,
was so bewildering, that I had great difficulty in picking my way.
Suddenly we came on a flat with a small tarn, whose waters gleamed
illusively in the pale moonlight: the opposite flanks of the valley
were so well reflected on its gloomy surface, that we were at once
brought to a stand-still on its banks: it looked like a chasm, and
whether to jump across it, or go down it, or along it, was the
question, so deceptive was the spectral landscape. Its true nature
was, however, soon discovered, and we proceeded round it, descending.
Of course there was no path, and after some perplexity amongst rocks
and ravines, we reached the upper limit of wood, and halted by some
bleached juniper-trees, which were soon converted into blazing fires.

I wandered away from my party to listen for the voices of the men who
had lingered behind, about whom I was still more anxious, from the
very great difficulty they would encounter if, as we did, they should
get off the path. The moon was shining clearly in the black heavens;
and its bright light, with the pale glare of the surrounding snow,
obscured the milky way, and all the smaller stars; whilst the planets
appeared to glow with broader orbs than elsewhere, and the great
stars flashed steadily and periodically.

Deep black chasms seemed to yawn below, and cliffs rose on all sides,
except down the valley, where looking across the Yalloong river, a
steep range of mountains rose, seamed with torrents that were just
visible like threads of silver coursing down broad landslips. It was
a dead calm, and nothing broke the awful silence but the low hoarse
murmur of many torrents, whose mingled voices rose and fell as if
with the pulsations of the atmosphere; the undulations of which
appeared thus to be marked by the ear alone. Sometimes it was the
faintest possible murmur, and then it rose swelling and filling the
air with sound: the effect was that of being raised from the earth's
surface, and again lowered to it; or that of waters advancing and
retiring. In such scenes and with such accompaniments, the mind
wanders from the real to the ideal, the larger and brighter lamps of
heaven lead us to imagine that we have risen from the surface of our
globe and are floating through the regions of space, and that the
ceaseless murmur of the waters is the Music of the Spheres.

Contemplation amid such soothing sounds and impressive scenes is very
seductive, and withal very dangerous, for the temperature was at
freezing-point, my feet and legs were wet through, and it was well
that I was soon roused from my reveries by the monosyllabic
exclamations of my coolies. They were quite knocked up, and came
along grunting, and halting every minute to rest, by supporting their
loads, still hanging to their backs, on their stout staves. I had
still one bottle of brandy left, with which to splice the main brace.
It had been repeatedly begged for in vain, and being no longer
expected, was received with unfeigned joy. Fortunately with these
people a little spirits goes a long way, and I kept half for
future emergencies.

We camped at 13,290 feet, the air was calm and mild to the feeling,
though the temperature fell to 22.75 degrees. On the following
morning we saw two musk-deer,* [There are two species of musk-deer in
the Himalaya, besides the Tibetan kind, which appears identical with
the Siberian animal originally described by Pallas.] called
"Kosturah" by the mountaineers. The musk, which hangs in a pouch near
the navel of the male, is the well-known object of traffic with
Bengal. This creature ranges between 8000 and 13,000 feet, on the
Himalaya, often scenting the air for many hundred yards. It is a
pretty grey animal, the size of a roebuck, and something resembling
it, with coarse fur, short horns, and two projecting teeth from the
upper jaw, said to be used in rooting up the aromatic herbs from
which the Bhoteeas believe that it derives the odour of musk. This I
much doubt, because the animal never frequents those very lofty
regions where the herbs supposed to provide the scent are found, nor
have I ever seen signs of any having been so rooted up.
The _Delphinium glaciale_ smells strongly and disagreeably of musk,
but it is one of the most alpine plants in the world, growing at an
elevation of 17,000 feet, far above the limits of the Kosturah.
The female and young male are very good eating, much better than any
Indian venison I ever tasted, being sweet and tender. Mr. Hodgson
once kept a female alive, but it was very wild, and continued so as
long as I knew it. Two of my Lepchas gave chase to these animals, and
fired many arrows in vain after them: these people are fond of
carrying a bow, but are very poor shots.

We descended 3000 feet to the deep valley of the Yalloong river which
runs west-by-south to the Tambur, from between Junnoo and Kubra: the
path was very bad, over quartz, granite, and gneiss, which cut the
shoes and feet severely. The bottom of the valley, which is elevated
10,450 feet, was filled with an immense accumulation of angular
gravel and debris of the above rocks, forming on both sides of the
river a terrace 400 feet above the stream, which flowed in a furious
torrent. The path led over this deposit for a good many miles, and
varied exceedingly in height, in some places being evidently
increased by landslips, and at others apparently by moraines.

Illustration--TIBETAN CHARM-BOX.

CHAPTER XII.

Yalloong valley -- Fiud Kanglanamo pass closed -- Change route for
the southward -- _Picrorhiza_ -- View of Kubra -- _Rhododendron
Falconeri_ -- Yalloong river -- Junction of gneiss and clay-slate --
Cross Yalloong range -- View -- Descent -- Yew -- Vegetation -- Misty
weather -- Tongdam village -- Khabang -- Tropical vegetation --
Sidingbah Mountain -- View of Kinchinjunga -- Yangyading village --
Slopes of hills, and courses of rivers -- Khabili valley -- (Ghorkha
Havildar's bad conduct -- Ascend Singalelah -- Plague of ticks --
Short commons -- Cross Islumbo pass -- Boundary of Sikkim -- Kulhait
valley -- Lingeham -- Reception by Kajee -- Hear of Dr. Campbell's
going to meet Rajah -- Views in valley -- Leave for Teesta river --
Tipsy Kajee -- Hospitality -- Murwa beer -- Temples -- _Acorus
Calamus_ -- Long Mendong -- Burning of dead -- Superstitions -- Cross
Great Rungeet -- Boulders, origin of -- Purchase of a dog -- Marshes
-- Lamas -- Dismiss Ghorkhas -- Bhoteea house -- Murwa beer.

On arriving at the bottom we found a party who were travelling with
sheep laden with salt; they told us that the Yalloong village, which
lay up the valley on the route to the Kanglanamo pass (leading over
the south shoulder of Kubra into Sikkim) was deserted, the
inhabitants having retired after the October fall of snow to
Yankutang, two marches down; also that the Kanglanamo pass was
impracticable, being always blocked up by the October fall. I was,
therefore, reluctantly obliged to abandon the plan of pursuing that
route to Sikkim, and to go south, following the west flank of
Singalelah to the first of the many passes over it which I might
find open.

These people were very civil, and gave me a handful of the root of
one of the many bitter herbs called in Bengal "Teeta," and used as a
febrifuge: the present was that of _Picrorhiza,_ a plant allied to
Speedwell, which grows at from 12,000 to 15,000 feet elevation, and
is a powerful bitter, called "Hoonling" by the Tibetans. They had
with them above 100 sheep, of a tall, long-legged, Roman-nosed breed.
Each carried upwards of forty pounds of salt, done up in two leather
bags, slung on either side, and secured by a band going over the
chest, and another round the loins, so that they cannot slip off,
when going up or down hill. These sheep are very tame, patient
creatures, travelling twelve miles a day with great ease, and being
indifferent to rocky or steep ground.

Looking east I had a splendid view of the broad snowy mass of Kubra,
blocking up, as it were, the head of the valley with a white screen.
Descending to about 10,000 feet, the _Abies Brunoniana_ appeared,
with fine trees of _Rhododendron Falconeri_ forty feet high, and with
leaves nineteen inches long! while the upper part of the valley was
full of _Abies Webbiana._

At the elevation of 9000 feet, we crossed to the east bank, and
passed the junction of the gneiss and mica slate: the latter crossed
the river, striking north-west, and the stream cut a dark chasm-like
channel through it, foaming and dashing the spray over the splintered
ridges, and the broad water-worn hog-backed masses that projected
from its bed. Immense veins of granite permeated the rocks, which
were crumpled in the strangest manner: isolated angular blocks of
schist had been taken up by the granite in a fluid state, and
remained imbedded in it.

The road made great ascents to avoid landslips, and to surmount the
enormous piles of debris which encumber this valley more than any
other. We encamped at 10,050 feet, on a little flat 1000 feet above
the bed of the river, and on its east flank. A _Hydrangea_ was the
common small wood, but _Abies Webbiana_ formed the forest, with great
Rhododendrons. The weather was foggy, whence I judged that we were in
the sea of mist I saw beneath me from the passes; the temperature,
considering the elevation, was mild, 37 degrees and 38 degrees, which
was partly due to the evolution of heat that accompanies the
condensation of these vapours, the atmosphere being loaded with
moisture. The thermometer fell to 28 degrees during the night, and in
the morning the ground was thickly covered with hoar-frost.

_December 7.--We ascended the Yalloong ridge to a saddle 11,000 feet
elevation, whence the road dips south to the gloomy gorges of the
eastern feeders of the Tambur. Here we bade adieu to the grand alpine
scenery, and for several days our course lay in Nepal in a southerly
direction, parallel to Singalelah, and crossing every spur and river
sent off by that mighty range. The latter flow towards the Tambur,
and their beds, for forty or fifty miles are elevated about 3000 or
4000 feet. Few of the spurs are ascended above 5000 feet, but all of
them rise to 12,000 or 14,000 feet to the westward, where they join
the Singalelah range.

I clambered to the top of a lofty hummock, through a dense thicket of
interwoven Rhododendron bushes, the clayey soil under which was
slippery from the quantity of dead leaves. I had hoped for a view of
the top of Kinchinjunga, which bore north-east, but it was enveloped
in clouds, as were all the snows in that direction; to the
north-west, however, I obtained bearings of the principal peaks,
etc., of the Yangma and Kambachen valleys. To the south and
south-east, lofty, rugged and pine-clad mountains rose in confused
masses, and white sheets of mist came driving up, clinging to the
mountain-tops, and shrouding the landscape with extreme rapidity.
The remarkable mountain of Sidingbah bore south-south-east, raising
its rounded head above the clouds. I could, however, procure no
other good bearing.

The descent from the Yalloong ridge to the Khabili feeders of the
Tambur was very steep, and in some places almost precipitous, first
through dense woods of silver fir, with _Rhod. Falconeri_ and
_Hodgsoni,_ then through _Abies Brunoniana,_ with yew (now covered
with red berries) to the region of Magnolias and _Rhod. arboreum_ and
_barbatum._ One bush of the former was in flower, making a gorgeous
show. Here also appeared the great oak with lamellated acorns, which
I had not seen in the drier valleys to the westward; with many other
Dorjiling trees and shrubs. A heavy mist clung to the rank luxuriant
foliage, tantalizing from its obscuring all the view. Mica schist
replaced the gneiss, and a thick slippery stratum of clay rendered it
very difficult to keep one's footing. After so many days of bright
sunshine and dry weather, I found this quiet, damp, foggy atmosphere
to have a most depressing effect: there was little to interest in the
meteorology, the atmospheric fluctuations being far too small;
geographical discovery was at an end, and we groped our way along
devious paths in wooded valleys, or ascended spurs and ridges, always
clouded before noon, and clothed with heavy forest.

At 6000 feet we emerged from the mist, and found ourselves clambering
down a deep gully, hemmed in by frightful rocky steeps, which exposed
a fine and tolerably continuous section of schistose rocks, striking
north-west, and dipping north-east, at a very high angle.

At the bottom three furious torrents met: we descended the course of
one of them, over slanting precipices, or trees lashed to the rocks,
and after a most winding course our path conducted us to the village
of Tarbu, high above a feeder of the Khabili river, which flows west,
joining the Tambur three days' march lower down. Having no food, we
had made a very long and difficult march to this place, but finding
none here, proceeded on to Tonghem village on the Khabili, descending
through thickets of _Rhod. arboreum_ to the elevation of 5,560.

This village, or spur, called "Tonghem" by the Limboos, and
"Yankutang" by the Bhoteeas, is the winter resort of the inhabitants
of the upper Yalloong valley: they received us very kindly, sold us
two fowls, and rice enough to last for one or two days, which was all
they could spare, and gave me a good deal of information. I found
that the Kanglanamo pass had been disused since the Nepal war, that
it was very lofty, and always closed in October.

The night was fine, clear, and warm, but the radiation so powerful
that the grass was coated with ice the following morning, though the
thermometer did not fall below 33 degrees. The next day the sun rose
with great power, and the vegetation reeked and steamed with the
heat. Crossing the river, we first made a considerable descent, and
then ascended a ridge to 5,750 feet, through a thick jungle of
_Camellia, Eurya,_ and small oak: from the top I obtained bearings of
Yalloong and Choonjerma pass, and had also glimpses of the Kinchin
range through a tantalizing jungle; after which a very winding and
fatiguing up-and-down march southwards brought us to the village of
Khabang, in the magnificent valley of the Tawa, about 800 feet above
the river, and 5,500 feet above the sea.

I halted here for a day, to refresh the people, and if possible to
obtain some food. I hoped, too, to find a pass into Sikkim, east
over Singalelah, but was disappointed: if there had ever been one, it
had been closed since the Nepal war; and there was none, for several
marches further south, which would conduct us to the Iwa branch of
the Khabili.

Khabang is a village of Geroongs, or shepherds, who pasture their
flocks on the hills and higher valleys during summer, and bring them
down to this elevation in winter: the ground was consequently
infested with a tick, equal in size to that so common in the bushes,
and quite as troublesome, but of a different species.

The temperature rose to 72 degrees, and the black-bulb thermometer to
140 degrees. Magnolias and various almost tropical trees were common,
and the herbaceous vegetation was that of low elevations.
Large sugar-cane (_Saccharum_), palm (_Wallichia_), and wild
plantains grew near the river, and _Rhod. arboreum_ was very common
on dry slopes of mica-slate rocks, with the gorgeous and
sweet-scented _Luculia gratissima._

Up the valley of the Tawa the view was very grand of a magnificent
rocky mountain called Sidingbah, bearing south-east by south, on a
spur of the Singalelah range that runs westerly, and forms the south
flank of the Tawa, and the north of the Khabili valleys.
This mountain is fully 12,000 feet high, crested with rock and ragged
black forest, which, on the north flank, extends to its base: to the
eastward, the bare ridges of Singalelah were patched with snow, below
which they too were clothed with black pines.

From the opposite side of the Tawa to Khabang (alt. 6,020 feet), I
was, during our march southwards, most fortunate in obtaining a
splendid view of Kinchinjunga (bearing north-east by north), with its
associates, rising over the dark mass of Singalelah, its flanks
showing like tier above tier of green glaciers: its distance was
fully twenty-five miles, and as only about 7000 feet or 8000 feet
from its summit were visible, and Kubra was foreshortened against it,
its appearance was not grand; added to which, its top was round and
hummocky, not broken into peaks, as when seen from the south and
east. Villages and cultivation became more frequent as we proceeded
southward, and our daily marches were up ridges, and down into deep
valleys, with feeders from the flanks of Sidingbah to the Tambur.
We passed through the village of Tchonboong, and camped at Yangyading
(4,100 feet), sighted Yamroop, a large village and military post to
the west of our route, crossed the Pangwa river, and reached the
valley of the Khabili. During this part of the journey, I did not
once see the Tambur river, though I was day after day marching only
seven to ten miles distant from it, so uneven is the country.
The mountains around Taptiatok, Mywa Guola, and Chingtam, were
pointed out to me, but they presented no recognizable feature.

I often looked for some slope, or strike of the slopes of the spurs,
in any one valley, or that should prevail through several, but could
seldom trace any, except on one or two occasions, at low elevations.
Looking here across the valleys, there was a tendency in the gentle
slopes of the spurs to have plane faces dipping north-east, and to be
bounded by a line of cliffs striking north-west, and facing the
south-east. In such arrangements, the upheaved cliffs may be supposed
to represent parallel lines of faults, dislocation, or rupture, but I
could never trace any secondary valleys at right angles to these.
There is no such uniformity of strike as to give to the rivers a
zig-zag course of any regularity, or one having any apparent
dependence on a prevailing arrangement of the rocks; for, though the
strike of the chlorite and clay-slate at elevations below 6000 feet
along its course, is certainly north-west, with a dip to north-east,
the flexures of the river, as projected on the map, deviate very
widely from these directions.

The valley of the Khabili is very grand, broad, open, and intersected
by many streams and cultivated spurs: the road from Yamroop to
Sikkim, once well frequented, runs up its north flank, and though it
was long closed we determined to follow and clear it.

On the 11th of December we camped near the village of Sablakoo (4,680
feet), and procured five days' food, to last us as far as the first
Sikkim village. Thence we proceeded eastward up the valley, but
descending to the Iwa, an affluent of the Khabili, through a tropical
vegetation of _Pinus longifolia, Phyllanthus Emblica,_ dwarf
date-palm, etc. Gneiss was here the prevailing rock, uniformly
dipping north-east 20 degrees, and striking north-west. The same rock
no doubt forms the mass Sidingbah, which reared its head 8000 feet
above the Iwa river, by whose bed we camped at 3,780 feet. Sand-flies
abounded, and were most troublesome: troops of large monkeys were
skipping about, and the whole scene was thoroughly tropical; still,
the thermometer fell to 38 degrees in the night, with heavy dew.

Though we passed numerous villages, I found unusual difficulty in
getting provision, and received none of the presents so uniformly
brought by the villagers to a stranger. I was not long in
discovering, to my great mortification, that these were appropriated
by the Ghorkha Havildar, who seemed to have profited by our many days
of short allowance, and diverted the current of hospitality from me
to himself. His coolies I saw groaning under heavy burdens, when
those of my people were light; and the truth only came out when he
had the impudence to attempt to impose a part of his coolies' loads
on mine, to enable the former to carry more food, whilst he was
pretending that he used every exertion to procure me a scanty supply
of rice with my limited stock of money. I had treated this man and
his soldiers with the utmost kindness, even nursing them and clothing
them from my own stock of flannels, when sick and shivering amongst
the snows. Though a high caste Hindoo, and one who assumed Brahmin
rank, he had, I found, no objection to eat forbidden things in
secret; and now that we were travelling amongst Hindoos, his caste
obtained him everything, while money alone availed me. I took him
roundly to task for his treachery, which caused him secretly to throw
away a leg of mutton he had concealed; I also threatened to expose
the humbug of his pretension to caste, but it was then too late to
procure more food. Having hitherto much liked this man, and fully
trusted him, I was greatly pained by his conduct.