Books: Himalayan Journals (Complete)

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

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Specific identity of their contained fossils may be considered as
fair evidence of the cotemporaneous origin of beds, but amongst the
many collections of fossil plants that I have examined, there is
hardly a specimen, belonging to any epoch, sufficiently perfect to
warrant the assumption that the species to which it belonged can be
again recognised. The botanical evidences which geologists too often
accept as proofs of specific identity are such as no botanist would
attach any importance to in the investigation of existing plants.
The faintest traces assumed to be of vegetable origin are habitually
made into genera and species by naturalists ignorant of the
structure, affinities and distribution of living plants, and of such
materials the bulk of so-called systems of fossil plants is composed.

A number of women were here employed in making gunpowder, grinding
the usual materials on a stone, with the addition of water from the
Hookah; a custom for which they have an obstinate prejudice.
The charcoal here used is made from an _Acacia_: the Seiks, I
believe, employ _Justicia Adhatoda,_ which is also in use all
over India: at Aden the Arabs prefer the _Calotropis_, probably
because it is most easily procured. The grain of all these plants is
open, whereas in England, closer-grained and more woody trees,
especially willows, are preferred.

The jungle I found to consist chiefly of thorny bushes, Jujube of two
species, an _Acacia_ and _Butea frondosa,_ the twigs of the
latter often covered with lurid red tears of Lac, which is here
collected in abundance. As it occurs on the plants and is collected
by the natives it is called Stick-lac, but after preparation
Shell-lac. In Mirzapore, a species of _Celtis_ yields it, and
the Peepul very commonly in various parts of India. The elaboration
of this dye, whether by the same species of insect, or by many from
plants so widely different in habit and characters, is a very curious
fact; since none have red juice, but some have milky and
others limpid.

After breakfast, Mr. Williams and I started on an elephant, following
the camp to Gyra, twelve miles distant. The docility of these animals
is an old story, but it loses so much in the telling, that their
gentleness, obedience, and sagacity seemed as strange to me as if I
had never heard or read of these attributes. The swinging motion,
under a hot sun, is very oppressive, but compensated for by being so
high above the dust. The Mahout, or driver, guides by poking his
great toes under either ear, enforcing obedience with an iron goad,
with which he hammers the animal's head with quite as much force as
would break a cocoa-nut, or drives it through his thick skin down to
the quick. A most disagreeable sight it is, to see the blood and
yellow fat oozing out in the broiling sun from these great punctures!
Our elephant was an excellent one, when he did not take obstinate
fits, and so docile as to pick up pieces of stone when desired, and
with a jerk of the trunk throw them over his head for the rider to
catch, thus saving the trouble of dismounting to geologise!

Of sights on the road, unfrequented though this noble line is, there
were plenty for a stranger; chiefly pilgrims to Juggernath, most on
foot, and a few in carts or pony gigs of rude construction.
The vehicles from the upper country are distinguished by a far
superior build, their horses are caparisoned with jingling bells, and
the wheels and other parts are bound with brass. The kindness of the
people towards animals, and in some cases towards their suffering
relations, is very remarkable, and may in part have given origin to
the prevalent idea that they are less cruel and stern than the
majority of mankind; but that the "mild" Hindoo, however gentle on
occasion, is cruel and vindictive to his brother man and to animals,
when his indolent temper is roused or his avarice stimulated, no one
can doubt who reads the accounts of Thuggee, Dacoitee, and poisoning,
and witnesses the cruelty with which beasts of burthen are treated.
A child carrying a bird, kid, or lamb, is not an uncommon sight, and
a woman with a dog in her arms is still more frequently seen.
Occasionally too, a group will bear an old man to see Juggernath
before he dies, or a poor creature with elephantiasis, who hopes to
be allowed to hurry himself to his paradise, in preference to
lingering in helpless inactivity, and at last crawling up to the
second heaven only. The costumes are as various as the religious
castes, and the many countries to which the travellers belong.
Next in wealth to the merchants, the most thriving-looking wanderer
is the bearer of Ganges' holy water, who drives a profitable trade,
his gains increasing as his load lightens, for the further he wanders
from the sacred stream, the more he gets for the contents of his jar.

Of merchandise we passed very little, the Ganges being still the high
road between north-west India and Bengal. Occasionally a string of
camels was seen, but, owing to the damp climate, these are rare, and
unknown east of the meridian of Calcutta. A little cotton, clumsily
packed in ragged bags, dirty, and deteriorating every day, even at
this dry season, proves in how bad a state it must arrive at the
market during the rains, when the low wagons are dragged through
the streams.

The roads here are all mended with a curious stone, called Kunker,
which is a nodular concretionary deposit of limestone, abundantly
imbedded in the alluvial soil of a great part of India.* [Often
occurring in strata, like flints.] It resembles a coarse gravel, each
pebble being often as large as a walnut, and tuberculated on the
surface: it binds admirably, and forms excellent roads, but
pulverises into a most disagreeable impalpable dust.

A few miles beyond Taldangah we passed from the sandstone, in which
the coal lies, to a very barren country of gneiss and granite rocks,
upon which the former rests; the country still rising, more hills
appear, and towering far above all is Paras-nath, the culminant
point, and a mountain whose botany I was most anxious to explore.

The vegetation of this part of the country is very poor, no
good-sized trees are to be seen, all is a low stunted jungle.
The grasses were few, and dried up, except in the beds of the
rivulets. On the low jungly hills the same plants appear, with a few
figs, bamboo in great abundance, several handsome _Acanthaceae_; a
few _Asclepiadeae_ climbing up the bushes; and the Cowage plant, now
with over-ripe pods, by shaking which, in passing, there often falls
such a shower of its irritating microscopic hairs, as to make the
skin tingle for an hour.

On the 1st of February, we moved on to Gyra, another insignificant
village. The air was cool, and the atmosphere clear. The temperature,
at three in the morning, was 65 degrees, with no dew, the grass only
61 degrees°. As the sun rose, Parasnath appeared against the clear
grey sky, in the form of a beautiful broad cone, with a rugged peak,
of a deeper grey than the sky. It is a remarkably handsome mountain,
sufficiently lofty to be imposing, rising out of an elevated country,
the slope of which, upward to the base of the mountain, though
imperceptible, is really considerable; and it is surrounded by lesser
hills of just sufficient elevation to set it off. The atmosphere,
too, of these regions is peculiarly favourable for views: it is very
dry at this season; but still the hills are clearly defined, without
the harsh outlines so characteristic of a moist air. The skies are
bright, the sun powerful; and there is an almost imperceptible haze
that seems to soften the landscape, and keep every object in
true perspective.

Our route led towards the picturesque hills and values in front.
The rocks were all hornblende and micaceous schist, cut through by
trap-dykes, while great crumbling masses (or bosses) of quartz
protruded through the soil. The stratified rocks were often exposed,
pitched up at various inclinations: they were frequently white with
effloresced salts, which entering largely into the composition tended
to hasten their decomposition, and being obnoxious to vegetation,
rendered the sterile soil more hungry still. There was little
cultivation, and that little of the most wretched kind; even
rice-fields were few and scattered; there was no corn, or gram
(_Ervum Lens_), no Castor-oil, no Poppy, Cotton, Safflower, or other
crops of the richer soils that flank the Ganges and Hoogly; a very
little Sugar-cane, Dhal (_Cajana_), Mustard, Linseed, and Rape, the
latter three cultivated for their oil. Hardly a Palm was to be seen;
and it was seldom that the cottages could boast of a Banana,
Tamarind, Orange, Cocoa-nut or Date. The Mahowa (_Bassia latifolia_)
and Mango were the commonest trees. There being no Kunker in the soil
here, the roads were mended with angular quartz, much to the
elephants' annoyance.

We dismounted where some very micaceous stratified rock cropped out,
powdered with a saline efflorescence.* [An impure carbonate of soda.
This earth is thrown into clay vessels with water, which after
dissolving the soda, is allowed to evaporate, when the remainder is
collected, and found to contain so much silica, as to be capable of
being fused into glass. Dr. Boyle mentions this curious fact (Essay
on the Arts and Manufactures of India, read before the Society of
Arts, February 18, 1852), in illustration of the probably early epoch
at which the natives of British India were acquainted with the art of
making glass. More complicated processes are employed, and have been
from a very early period, in other parts of the continent.] Jujubes
(_Zizyphus_) prevailed, with the _Carissa carandas_ (in fruit), a
shrub belonging to the usually poisonous family of Dog-banes
(_Apocyneae_); its berries make good tarts, and the plant itself
forms tolerable hedges.

The country around Fitcoree is rather pretty, the hills covered with
bamboo and brushwood, and as usual, rising rather suddenly from the
elevated plains. The jungle affords shelter to a few bears and
tigers, jackals in abundance, and occasionally foxes; the birds seen
are chiefly pigeons. Insects are very scarce; those of the locust
tribe being most prevalent, indicative of a dry climate.

The temperature at 3 a.m.. was 65 degrees; at 3 p.m. 82 degrees; and
at 10 p.m., 68 degrees, from which there was no great variation
during the whole time we spent at these elevations. The clouds were
rare, and always light and high, except a little fleecy spot of
vapour condensed close to the summit of Paras-nath. Though the nights
were clear and starlight, no dew was deposited, owing to the great
dryness of the air. On one occasion, this drought was so great during
the passage of a hot wind, that at night I observed the wet-bulb
thermometer to stand 20.5 degrees below the temperature of the air,
which was 66 degrees; this indicated a dew-point of 11.5 degrees, or
54.5 degrees below the air, and a saturation-point of 0.146; there
being only 0.102 grains of vapour per cubic foot of air, which latter
was loaded with dust. The little moisture suspended in the atmosphere
is often seen to be condensed in a thin belt of vapour, at a
considerable distance above the dry surface of the earth, thus
intercepting the radiation of heat from the latter to the clear sky
above. Such strata may be observed, crossing the hills in ribbonlike
masses, though not so clearly on this elevated region as on the
plains bounding the lower course of the Soane, where the vapour is
more dense, the hills more scattered, and the whole atmosphere more
humid. During the ten days I spent amongst the hills I saw but one
cloudy sunrise, whereas below, whether at Calcutta, or on the banks
of the Soane, the sun always rose behind a dense fog-bank.

At 9.30 a.m. the black-bulb thermometer rose in the sun to 130
degrees. The morning observation before 10 or 11 a..m. always gives a
higher result than at noon, though the sun's declination is so
considerably less, and in the hottest part of the day it is lower
still (3.30 p.m. 109 degrees), an effect no doubt due to the vapours
raised by the sun, and which equally interfere with the photometer
observations. The N.W. winds invariably rise at about 9 a.m. and blow
with increasing strength till sunset; they are due to the rarefaction
of the air over the heated ground, and being loaded with dust, the
temperature of the atmosphere is hence raised by the heated
particles. The increased temperature of the afternoon is therefore
not so much due to the accumulation of caloric from the sun's rays,
as to the passage of a heated current of air derived from the much
hotter regions to the westward. It would be interesting to know how
far this N.W. diurnal tide extends; also the rate at which it gathers
moisture in its progress over the damp regions of the Sunderbunds.
Its excessive dryness in N.W. India approaches that of the African
and Australian deserts; and I shall give an abstract of my own
observations, both in the vallies of the Soane and Ganges, and on the
elevated plateaus of Behar and of Mirzapore.* [See Appendix A.]

On the 2nd of February we proceeded to Tofe-Choney, the hills
increasing in height to nearly 1000 feet, and the country becoming
more picturesque. We passed some tanks covered with _Villarsia_, and
frequented by flocks of white egrets. The existence of artificial
tanks so near a lofty mountain, from whose sides innumerable
water-courses descend, indicates the great natural dryness of the
country during one season of the year. The hills and vallies were
richer than I expected, though far from luxuriant. A fine _Nauclea_
is a common shady tree, and _Bignonia indica_, now leafless, but with
immense pods hanging from the branches. _Acanthaceae_ is the
prevalent natural order, consisting of gay-flowered _Eranthemums,
Ruellias, Barlerias,_ and such hothouse favourites.* [Other plants
gathered here, and very typical of the Flora of this dry region, were
_Linum trigynum, Feronia elephantum, Aegle marmelos, Helicteres
Asoca, Abrus precatorius, Flemingia_; various _Desmodia, Rhynchosiae,
Glycine,_ and _Grislea tomentosa_ very abundant, _Conocarpus
latifoliusa, Loranthus longiflorus,_ and another species;
_Phyllanthus Emblica,_ various _Convolvuli, Cuscuta,_ and several
herbaceous _Compositae._]

This being the most convenient station whence to ascend Paras-nath,
we started at 6 a.m. for the village of Maddaobund, at the north base
of the mountain, or opposite side from that on which the grand
trunk-road runs. After following the latter for a few miles to the
west, we took a path through beautifully wooded plains, with
scattered trees of the Mahowa (_Bassia latifolia_), resembling
good oaks: the natives distil a kind of arrack from its fleshy
flowers, which are also eaten raw. The seeds, too, yield a concrete
oil, by expression, which is used for lamps and occasionally
for frying.

Some villages at the west base of the mountain occupy a better soil,
and are surrounded with richer cultivation; palms, mangos, and the
tamarind, the first and last rare features in this part of Bengal,
appeared to be common, with fields of rice and broad acres of flax
and rape, through the latter of which the blue _Orobanche indica_
swarmed. The short route to Maddaobund, through narrow rocky vallies,
was impracticable for the elephants, and we had to make a very
considerable detour, only reaching that village at 2 p.m. All the
hill people we observed were a fine-looking athletic race; they
disclaimed the tiger being a neighbour, which every palkee-bearer
along the road declares to carry off the torch-bearers, torch and
all. Bears they said were scarce, and all other wild animals, but a
natural jealousy of Europeans often leads the natives to deny the
existence of what they know to be an attraction to the proverbially
sporting Englishman.

Illustration - OLD TAMARIND TREES.

The site of Maddaobund, elevated 1230 feet, in a clearance of the
forest, and the appearance of the snow-white domes and bannerets of
its temples through the fine trees by which it is surrounded, are
very beautiful. Though several hundred feet above any point we had
hitherto reached, the situation is so sheltered that the tamarind,
peepul, and banyan trees are superb. A fine specimen of the latter
stands at the entrance to the village, not a broadheaded tree, as is
usual in the prime of its existence, but a mass of trunks irregularly
throwing out immense branches in a most picturesque manner; the
original trunk is apparently gone, and the principal mass of root
stems is fenced in. This, with two magnificent tamarinds, forms a
grand clump. The ascent of the mountain is immediately from the
village up a pathway worn by the feet of many a pilgrim from the most
remote parts of India.

Paras-nath is a mountain of peculiar sanctity, to which circumstance
is to be attributed the flourishing state of Maddaobund. The name is
that of the twenty-third incarnation of Jinna (Sanscrit "Conqueror"),
who was born at Benares, lived one hundred years, and was buried on
this mountain, which is the eastern metropolis of Jain worship, as
Mount Aboo is the western (where are their libraries and most
splendid temples). The origin of the Jain sect is obscure, though its
rise appears to correspond with the wreck of Boodhism throughout
India in the eleventh century. The Jains form in some sort a
transition-sect between Boodhists and Hindoos, differing from the
former in acknowledging castes, and from both in their worship of
Paras-nath's foot, instead of that of Munja-gosha of the Boodhs, or
Vishnoo's of the Hindoos. As a sect of Boodhists their religion is
considered pure, and free from the obscenities so conspicuous in
Hindoo worship; whilst, in fact, perhaps the reverse is the case;
but the symbols are fewer, and indeed almost confined to the feet of
Paras-nath, and the priests jealously conceal their esoteric
doctrines.

The temples, though small, are well built, and carefully kept.
No persuasion could induce the Brahmins to allow us to proceed beyond
the vestibule without taking off our shoes, to which we were not
inclined to consent. The bazaar was for so small a village large, and
crowded to excess with natives of all castes, colours, and provinces
of India, very many from the extreme W. and N.W., Rajpootana, the
Madras Presidency, and Central India. Numbers had come in good cars,
well attended, and appeared men of wealth and consequence; while the
quantities of conveyances of all sorts standing about, rather
reminded me of an election, than of anything I had seen in India.

The natives of the place were a more Negro-looking race than the
Bengalees to whom I had previously been accustomed; and the curiosity
and astonishment they displayed at seeing (probably many of them for
the first time) a party of Englishmen, were sufficiently amusing.
Our coolies with provisions not having come up, and it being two
o'clock in the afternoon, I having had no breakfast, and being
ignorant of the exclusively Jain population of the village, sent my
servant to the bazaar, for some fowls and eggs; but he was mobbed for
asking for these articles, and parched rice, beaten flat, with some
coarse sugar, was all I could obtain; together with sweetmeats so
odiously flavoured with various herbs, and sullied with such
impurities, that we quickly made them over to the elephants.

Not being able to ascend the mountain and return in one day,
Mr. Williams and his party went back to the road, leaving Mr. Haddon
and myself, who took up our quarters under a tamarind-tree.

In the evening a very gaudy poojah was performed. The car, filled
with idols, was covered with gilding and silk, and drawn by noble
bulls, festooned and garlanded. A procession was formed in front; and
it opened into an avenue, up and down which gaily dressed
dancing-boys paced or danced, shaking castanets, the attendant
worshippers singing in discordant voices, beating tom-toms, cymbals,
etc. Images (of Boodh apparently) abounded on the car, in front of
which a child was placed. The throng of natives was very great and
perfectly orderly, indeed, sufficiently apathetic: they were
remarkably civil in explaining what they understood of their
own worship.

At 2 p.m., the thermometer was only 65 degrees, though the day was
fine, a strong haze obstructing the sun's rays; at 6 p.m., 58
degrees; at 9 p.m., 56 degrees, and the grass cooled to 49 degrees.
Still there was no dew, though the night was starlight.

Having provided doolies, or little bamboo chairs slung on four men's
shoulders, in which I put my papers and boxes, we next morning
commenced the ascent; at first through woods of the common trees,
with large clumps of bamboo, over slaty rocks of gneiss, much
inclined and sloping away from the mountain. The view from a ridge
500 feet high was superb, of the village, and its white domes half
buried in the forest below, the latter of which continued in sight
for many miles to the northward. Descending to a valley some ferns
were met with, and a more luxuriant vegetation, especially of
_Urticeae._ Wild bananas formed a beautiful, and to me novel
feature in the woods.

The conical hills of the white ants were very abundant. The structure
appears to me not an independent one, but the debris of clumps of
bamboos, or of the trunks of large trees, which these insects have
destroyed. As they work up a tree from the ground, they coat the bark
with particles of sand glued together, carrying up this artificial
sheath or covered way as they ascend. A clump of bamboos is thus
speedily killed; when the dead stems fall away, leaving the mass of
stumps coated with sand, which the action of the weather soon
fashions into a cone of earthy matter.

Ascending again, the path strikes up the hill, through a thick forest
of Sal (_Vateria robusta_) and other trees, spanned with cables
of scandent _Bauhinia_ stems. At about 3000 feet above the sea,
the vegetation becomes more luxuriant, and by a little stream I
collected five species of ferns and some mosses,--all in a dry state,
however. Still higher, _Clematis, Thalictrum,_ and an increased
number of grasses are seen; with bushes of _Verbenaceae_ and
_Compositae._ The white ant apparently does not enter this
cooler region. At 3500 feet the vegetation again changes, the trees
all become gnarled and scattered; and as the dampness also increases,
more mosses and ferns appear. We emerged from the forest at the foot
of the great ridge of rocky peaks, stretching E. and W. three or four
miles. Abundance of a species of berberry and an _Osbeckia_
marked the change in the vegetation most decidedly, and were frequent
over the whole summit, with coarse grasses, and various bushes.

At noon we reached the saddle of the crest (alt. 4230 feet), where
was a small temple, one of five or six which occupy various
prominences of the ridge. The wind, N.W., was cold, the temp. 56
degrees. The view was beautiful, but the atmosphere too hazy: to the
north were ranges of low wooded hills, and the course of the Barakah
and Adji rivers; to the south lay a flatter country, with lower
ranges, and the Damooda river, its all but waterless bed snowy-white
from the exposed granite blocks with which its course is strewn.
East and west the several sharp ridges of the mountain itself are
seen; the western considerably the highest. Immediately below, the
mountain flanks appear clothed with impenetrable forest, here and
there interrupted by rocky eminences; while to the north the grand
trunk road shoots across the plains, like a white thread, as straight
as an arrow, spanning here and there the beds of the mountain
torrents.

On the south side the vegetation was more luxuriant than on the
north, though, from the heat of the sun, the reverse might have been
expected. This is owing partly to the curve taken by the ridge being
open to the south, and partly to the winds from that quarter being
the moist ones. Accordingly, trees which I had left 3000 feet below
in the north ascent, here ascended to near the summit, such as figs
and bananas. A short-stemmed palm (_Phoenix_) was tolerably
abundant, and a small tree (_Pterospermum_) on which a species
of grass grew epiphytically; forming a curious feature in the
landscape.

The situation of the principal temple is very fine, below the saddle
in a hollow facing the south, surrounded by jungles of plantain and
banyan. It is small, and contains little worthy of notice but the
sculptured feet of Paras-nath, and some marble Boodh idols;
cross-legged figures with crisp hair and the Brahminical cord.
These, a leper covered with ashes in the vestibule, and an
officiating priest, were all we saw. Pilgrims were seen on various
parts of the mountain in very considerable numbers, passing from one
temple to another, and generally leaving a few grains of dry rice at
each; the rich and lame were carried in chairs, the poorer walked.

The culminant rocks are very dry, but in the rains may possess many
curious plants; a fine _Kalanchoe_ was common, with the berberry, a
beautiful _Indigofera,_ and various other shrubs; a _Bolbophyllum_
grew on the rocks, with a small _Begonia,_ and some ferns. There were
no birds, and very few insects, a beautiful small _Pontia_ being the
only butterfly. The striped squirrel was very busy amongst the rocks;
and I saw a few mice, and the traces of bears.