Books: Himalayan Journals (Complete)

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

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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Supposing the force to be withdrawn after the formation of the two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.

CHAPTER XV

Leave Yoksun for Kinchinjunga -- Ascend Ratong valley --
Salt-smuggling over Ratong -- Landslips -- Plants -- Buckeem --
Blocks of gneiss -- Mon Lepcha -- View -- Weather -- View from Gubroo
-- Kinchinjunga, tops of -- Pundim cliff -- Nursing -- Vegetation of
Himalaya -- Coup d'oeil of Jongri -- Route to Yalloong -- Arduous
route of salt-traders from Tibet -- Kinchin, ascent of -- Lichens --
Surfaces sculptured by snow and ice -- Weather at Jongri -- Snow --
Shades for eyes.

I left Yoksun on an expedition to Kinchinjunga on the 7th of January.
It was evident that at this season I could not attain any height; but
I was most anxious to reach the lower limit of that mass of perpetual
snow which descends in one continuous sweep from 28,000 to 15,000
feet, and radiates from the summit of Kinchin, along every spur and
shoulder for ten to fifteen miles, towards each point of the compass.

The route lay for the first mile over the Yoksun flat, and then wound
along the almost precipitous east flank of the Ratong, 1000 feet
above its bed, leading through thick forest. It was often difficult,
crossing torrents by calms of bamboo, and leading up precipices by
notched poles and roots of trees. I wondered what could have induced
the frequenting of such a route to Nepal, when there were so many
better ones over Singalelah, till I found from my guide that he had
habitually smuggled salt over this pass to avoid the oppressive duty
levelled by the Dewan on all imports from Tibet by the eastern
passes: he further told me that it took five days to reach Yalloong
in Nepal front Yoksun, on the third of which the Kanglanamo pass is
crossed, which is open from April to November, but is always heavily
snowed. Owing to this duty, and the remoteness of the eastern passes,
the people on the west side of the Great Rungeet were compelled to
pay an enormous sum for salt; and the Lamas of Changachelling and
Pemiongchi petitioned Dr. Campbell to use his influence with the
Nepal Court to have the Kanglanamo pass re-opened, and the power of
trading with the Tibetans of Wallanchoon, Yangma, and Kambachen,
restored to them: the pass having been closed since the Nepalese war,
to prevent the Sikkim people from kidnapping children and slaves, as
was alleged to be their custom.* [An accusation in which there was
probably some truth; for the Sikkim Dingpun, who guided Dr. Campbell
and myself to Mainom, Tassiding, etc., since kidnapped, or caused to
be abducted, a girl of Brahmin parents, from the Mai valley of Nepal,
a transaction which cost him some 300 rupees. The Nepal Durbar was
naturally furious, the more so as the Dingpun had no caste, and was
therefore abhorred by all Brahmins. Restitution was demanded through
Dr. Campbell, who caused the incensed Dingpun to give up his paramour
and her jewels. He vowed vengeance against Dr. Campbell, and found
means to gratify it, as I shall hereafter show.]

We passed some immense landslips, which had swept the forest into the
torrent, and exposed white banks of angular detritus of gneiss and
granite: we crossed one 200 yards long, by a narrow treacherous path,
on a slope of 35 degrees: the subjacent gneiss was nearly vertical,
striking north-east. We camped at 6,670 feet, amongst a vegetation I
little expected to find so close to the snows of Kinchin; it
consisted of oak, maple, birch, laurel, rhododendron, white
_Daphne,_ jessamine, _Arum, Begonia, Cyrtandraceae,_ pepper,
fig, _Menispermum,_ wild cinnamon, _Scitamineae,_ several epiphytic
orchids, vines, and ferns in great abundance.

On the following day, I proceeded north-west up the Ratong river,
here a furious torrent; which we crossed, and then ascended a very
steep mountain called "Mon Lepcha." Immense detached masses of
gneiss, full of coarse garnets, lay on the slope, some of which were
curiously marked with a series of deep holes, large enough to put
one's fist in, and said to be the footprints of the sacred cow.
They appeared to me to have been caused by the roots of trees, which
spread over the rocks in these humid regions, and wear channels in
the hardest material, especially when they follow the direction of
its lamination or stratification.

I encamped at a place called Buckeem (alt. 8,650 ft.), in a forest of
_Abies Brunoniana_ and _Webbiana,_ yew, oak, various rhododendrons,
and small bamboo. Snow lay in patches at 8000 feet, and the night was
cold and clear. On the following morning I continued the ascent,
alternately up steeps and along perfectly level shelves, on which
were occasionally frozen pools, surrounded with dwarf juniper and
rhododendrons. Across one I observed the track of a yak in the snow;
it presented two ridges, probably from the long hair of this animal,
which trails on the ground, sweeping the snow from the centre of its
path. At 11,000 feet the snow lay deep and soft in the woods of
silver fir, and the coolies waded through it with difficulty.

Enormous fractured boulders of gneiss were frequent over the whole of
Mon Lepcha, from 7000 to 11,000 feet: they were of the same material
as the rock _in situ,_ and as unaccountable in their origin as the
loose blocks on Dorjiling and Sinchul spurs at similar elevations,
often cresting narrow ridges. I measured one angular detached block,
forty feet high, resting on a steep narrow shoulder of the spur, in a
position to which it was impossible it could have rolled; and it is
equally difficult to suppose that glacial ice deposited it 4000 feet
above the bottom of the gorge, except we conclude the valley to have
been filled with ice to that depth. A glance at the map will show
that Mon Lepcha is remarkably situated, opposite the face of
Kinchinjunga, and at the great bend of the Ratong. Had that valley
ever been filled with water during a glacial period, Mon Lepcha would
have formed a promontory, and many floating bergs from Kinchin would
have been stranded on its flank: but I nowhere observed these rocks
to be of so fine a granite as I believe the upper rocks of Kinchin to
be, and I consequently cannot advance even that far-fetched solution
with much plausibility.