F. M. McMurry - "How To Study and Teaching How To Study"

Thomas de Quincey - "The Notebook of an English Opium Eater"

Edgar Rice Burroughs - "Thuvia, Maid of Mars"

Louisa May Alcott - "Jo's Boys"

New Philadelphia Book Publisher Highlights Local Talent
Book and Publishing News from Publishers Newswire(tm)

Looking for Child to be on Cover of a New Book, 'The Model Child'
PHILADELPHIA, Pa. -- The Philadelphia literary world will celebrate the launch of two new players today, April 10th: Kay Square Press, a new publishing company focused on Philadelphia-area artists, their stories, and their art; and Kay Square's first release, 'With the Rich and Mighty: Emlen Etting of Philadelphia' (ISBN: 978-0-9815129-0-7), a critical biography by Kenneth C. Kaleta.

FlatSigned Press Alleges Don Imus Remarks Damage Legacy of President Gerald R. Ford
NEW YORK, N.Y. -- Nathan Yungerberg, an accomplished model scout and professional child photographer is launching a nation-wide casting call to find the cover model for his highly anticipated book release, 'The Model Child: A Parents Guide to the Child Modeling Industry' (ISBN: 978-0-9817018-0-6).

Books: Himalayan Journals (Complete)

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




At 3 p.m., the temperature was 54 degrees, and the air deliciously
cool and pleasant. I tried to reach the western peak (perhaps 300
feet above the saddle), by keeping along the ridge, but was cut off
by precipices, and ere I could retrace my steps it was time to
descend. This I was glad to do in a doolie, and I was carried to the
bottom, with only one short rest, in an hour and three quarters.
The descent was very steep the whole way, partly down steps of sharp
rock, where one of the men cut his foot severely. The pathway at the
bottom was lined for nearly a quarter of a mile with sick, halt,
maimed, lame, and blind beggars, awaiting our descent. It was truly a
fearful sight, especially the lepers, and numerous unhappy victims
to elephantiasis.

Though the botany of Paras-nath proved interesting, its elevation was
not accompanied by such a change from the flora of its base as I had
expected. This is no doubt due to its dry climate and sterile soil;
characters which it shares with the extensive elevated area of which
it forms a part, and upon which I could not detect above 300 species
of plants during my journey. Yet, that the atmosphere at the summit
is more damp as well as cooler than at the base, is proved as well by
the observations as by the vegetation;* [Of plants eminently typical
of a moister atmosphere, I may mention the genera _Bolbophyllum,
Begonia, Aeginetia, Disporum, Roxburghia, Panax, Eugenia, Myrsine,
Shorea, Millettia,_ ferns, mosses, and foliaceous lichens; which
appeared in strange association with such dry-climate genera as
_Kalanchoe, Pterospermum,_ and the dwarf-palm, _Phoenix._ Add to this
list the _Berberis asiatica, Clematis nutans, Thalictrum
glyphocarpum,_ 27 grasses, _Cardamine,_ etc., and the mountain top
presents a mixture of the plants of a damp hot, a dry hot, and of a
temperate climate, in fairly balanced proportions. The prime elements
of a tropical flora were however wholly wanting on Paras-nath, where
are neither Peppers, _Pothos, Arum,_ tall or climbing palms,
tree-ferns, _Guttiferae,_ vines, or laurels.] and in some respects,
as the increased proportion of ferns, additional epiphytal orchideous
plants, _Begonias,_ and other species showed, its top supported a
more tropical flora than its base.

CHAPTER II.

Doomree -- Vegetation of table-land -- Lieutenant Beadle -- Birds --
Hot springs of Soorujkoond -- Plants near them -- Shells in them --
Cholera-tree -- Olibanum -- Palms, form of -- Dunwah Pass -- Trees,
native and planted -- Wild peacock -- Poppy fields -- Geography and
geology of Behar and Central India -- Toddy-palm -- Ground,
temperature of -- Barroon -- Temperature of plants -- Lizard -- Cross
the Soane -- Sand, ripple marks on -- Kymore hills -- Ground,
temperature of -- Limestone -- Rotas fort and palace -- Nitrate of
lime -- Change of climate -- Lime stalagmites, enclosing leaves --
Fall of Soane -- Spiders, etc. -- Scenery and natural history of
upper Soane valley -- _Hardwickia binata_ -- Bhel fruit --
Dust-storm -- Alligator -- Catechu -- _Cochlospermum_ --
Leaf-bellows -- Scorpions -- Tortoises -- Florican -- Limestone
spheres -- Coles -- Tiger-hunt -- Robbery.

In the evening we returned to our tamarind tree, and the next morning
regained the trunk road, following it to the dawk bungalow of
Doomree. On the way I found the _Caesalpinia paniculuta,_ a
magnificent climber, festooning the trues with its dark glossy
foliage and gorgeous racemes of orange blossoms. Receding from the
mountain, the country again became barren: at Doomree the hills were
of crystalline rocks, chiefly quartz and gneiss; no palms or large
trees of any kind appeared. The spear-grass abounded, and a
detestable nuisance it was, its long awns and husked seed working
through trowsers and stockings.

_Balanites_ was not uncommon, forming a low thorny bush, with
_Aegle marmelos_ and _Feronia elephantum._ Having rested
the tired elephant, we pushed on in the evening to the next stage,
Baghoda, arriving there at 3 a.m., and after a few hours' rest, I
walked to the bungalow of Lieutenant Beadle, the surveyor of roads,
sixteen miles further.

The country around Baghoda is still very barren, but improves
considerably in going westward, the ground becoming hilly, and the
road winding through prettily wooded vallies, and rising gradually to
1446 feet. _Nauclea cordifolia,_ a tree resembling a young
sycamore, is very common; with the Semul (_Bombax_), a very
striking tree from its buttressed trunk and gaudy scarlet flowers,
swarming with birds, which feed from its honeyed blossoms.

At 10 a.m. the sun became uncomfortably hot, the thermometer being
77 degrees, and the black-bulb thermometer 137 degrees. I had lost my
hat, and possessed no substitute but a silken nightcap; so I had to
tie a handkerchief over my head, to the astonishment of the
passers-by. Holding my head down, I had little source of amusement
but reading the foot-marks on the road; and these were strangely
diversified to an English eye. Those of the elephant, camel, buffalo
and bullock, horse, ass, pony, dog, goat, sheep and kid, lizard,
wild-cat and pigeon, with men, women, and children's feet, naked and
shod, were all recognisable.

It was noon ere I arrived at Lieutenant Beadle's, at Belcuppee (alt.
1219 feet), glad enough of the hearty welcome I received, being very
hot, dusty, and hungry. The country about his bungalow is very
pretty, from the number of wooded hills and large trees, especially
of banyan and peepul, noble oak-like Mahowa (_Bassia_), _Nauclea,_
Mango, and _Ficus infectoria._ These are all scattered, however, and
do not form forest, such as in a stunted form clothes the hills,
consisting of _Diospyros, Terminalia, Gmelina, Nauclea parvifolia,
Buchanania,_ etc. The rocks are still hornblende-schist and granite,
with a covering of alluvium, full of quartz pebbles. Insects and
birds are numerous, the latter consisting of jays, crows, doves,
sparrows, and maina (_Pastor_); also the _Phoenicophaus tristis_
("Mahoka" of the natives), with a note like that of the English
cuckoo, as heard late in the season.

I remained two days with Lieutenant Beadle, enjoying in his society
several excursions to the hot springs, etc. These springs (called
Soorujkoond) are situated close to the road, near the mouth of a
valley, in a remarkably pretty spot. They are, of course, objects of
worship; and a ruined temple stands close behind them, with three
very conspicuous trees--a peepul, a banyan, and a white,
thick-stemmed, leafless _Sterculia,_ whose branches bore dense
clusters of greenish foetid flowers. The hot springs are four in
number, and rise in as many ruined brick tanks about two yards
across. Another tank, fed by a cold spring, about twice that size,
flows between two of the hot, only two or three paces distant from
one of the latter on either hand. All burst through the gneiss rocks,
meet in one stream after a few yards, and are conducted by bricked
canals to a pool of cold water, about eighty yards off.

The temperatures of the hot springs were respectively 169 degrees,
170 degrees, 173 degrees, and 190 degrees; of the cold, 84 degrees at
4 p.m., and 75 degrees at 7 a.m. the following morning. The hottest
is the middle of the five. The water of the cold spring is sweet but
not good, and emits gaseous bubbles; it was covered with a green
floating _Conferva._ Of the four hot springs, the most copious
is about three feet deep, bubbles constantly, boils eggs, and though
brilliantly clear, has an exceedingly nauseous taste. This and the
other warm ones cover the bricks and surrounding rocks with a thick
incrustation of salts.

_Confervae_ abound in the warm stream from the springs, and two
species, one ochreous brown, and the other green, occur on the
margins of the tanks themselves, and in the hottest water; the brown
is the best Salamander, and forms a belt in deeper water than the
green; both appear in broad luxuriant strata, wherever the temp. is
cooled down to 168 degrees, and as low as 90 degrees. Of flowering
plants, three showed in an eminent degree a constitution capable of
resisting the heat, if not a predilection for it; these were all
_Cyperaceae,_ a _Cyperus_ and an _Eleocharis,_ having their roots in
water of 100 degrees, and where they are probably exposed to greater
heat, and a _Fimbristylis_ at 98 degrees; all were very luxuriant.
From the edges of the four hot springs I gathered sixteen species of
flowering plants, and from the cold tank five, which did not grow in
the hot. A water-beetle, _Colymbetes_(?) and _Notonecta,_ abounded in
water at 112 degrees, with quantities of dead shells; frogs were very
lively, with live shells, at 90 degrees, and with various other water
beetles. Having no means of detecting the salts of this water, I
bottled some for future analysis.* [For an account of the
_Confervae,_ and of the mineral constituents of the waters, etc. see
Appendix B.]

On the following day I botanized in the neighbourhood, with but poor
success. An oblique-leaved fig climbs the other trees, and generally
strangles them: two epiphytal _Orchideae_ also occur on the latter,
_Vanda Roxburghii_ and an _Oberonia._ Dodders (_Cuscuta_) of two
species, and _Cassytha,_ swarm over and conceal the bushes with their
yellow thread-like stems.

I left Belcuppee on the 8th of February, following Mr. Williams'
camp. The morning was clear and cold, the temperature only 56
degrees. We crossed the nearly dry broad bed of the Burkutta river, a
noble stream during the rains, carrying along huge boulders of
granite and gneiss. Near this I passed the Cholera-tree, a famous
peepul by the road side, so called from a detachment of infantry
having been attacked and decimated at the spot by that fell disease;
it is covered with inscriptions and votive tokens in the shape of
rags, etc. We continued to ascend to 1360 feet, where I came upon a
small forest of the Indian Olibanum (_Boswellia thurifera_),
conspicuous from its pale bark, and spreading curved branches, leafy
at their tips; its general appearance is a good deal like that of the
mountain ash. The gum, celebrated throughout the East, was flowing
abundantly from the trunk, very fragrant and transparent. The ground
was dry, sterile, and rocky; kunker, the curious formation mentioned
at Chapter 1, appears in the alluvium, which I had not elsewhere seen
at this elevation.

Descending to the village of Burshoot, we lost sight of the
_Boswellia,_ and came upon a magnificent tope of mango, banyan,
and peepul, so far superior to anything hitherto met with, that we
were glad to choose such a pleasant halting-place for breakfast.
There are a few lofty fan-palms here too, great rarities in this soil
and elevation: one, about eighty feet high, towered above some
wretched hovels, displaying the curious proportions of this tribe of
palms: first, a short cone, tapering to one-third the height of the
stem, the trunk then swelling to two-thirds, and again tapering to
the crown. Beyond this, the country again ascends to Burree (alt.
1169 feet), another dawk bungalow, a barren place, which we left on
the following morning.

So little was there to observe, that I again amused myself by
watching footsteps, the precision of which in the sandy soil was
curious. Looking down from the elephant, I was interested by seeing
them all in _relief,_ instead of _depressed,_ the slanting
rays of the sun in front producing this kind of mirage. Before us
rose no more of those wooded hills that had been our companions for
the last 120 miles, the absence of which was a sign of the nearly
approaching termination of the great hilly plateau we had been
traversing for that distance.

Chorparun, at the top of the Dunwah pass, is situated on an extended
barren flat, 1320 feet above the sea, and from it the descent from
the table-land to the level of the Soane valley, a little above that
of the Ganges at Patna, is very sudden. The road is carried zizgag
down a rugged hill of gneiss, with a descent of nearly 1000 feet in
six miles, of which 600 are exceedingly steep. The pass is well
wooded, with abundance of bamboo, _Bombax, Cassia, Acacia,_ and
_Butea,_ with _Calotropis,_ the purple Mudar, a very handsome
road-side plant, which I had not seen before, but which, with the
_Argemone Mexicana,_ was to be a companion for hundreds of miles
farther. All the views in the pass are very picturesque, though
wanting in good foliage, such as _Ficus_ would afford, of which I did
not see one tree. Indeed the rarity of the genus (except
_F. infectoria_) in the native woods of these hills, is very
remarkable. The banyan and peepul always appear to be planted, as do
the tamarind and mango.

Dunwah, at the foot of the pass, is 620 feet above the sea, and
nearly 1000 below the mean level of the highland I had been
traversing. Every thing bears here a better aspect; the woods at
the foot of the hills afforded many plants; the bamboo
(_B. stricta_) is green instead of yellow and white; a little
castor-oil is cultivated, and the Indian date (low and stunted)
appears about the cottages.

In the woods I heard and saw the wild peacock for the first time.
Its voice is not to be distinguished from that of the tame bird in
England, a curious instance of the perpetuation of character under
widely different circumstances, for the crow of the wild jungle-fowl
does not rival that of the farm-yard cock.

In the evening we left Dunwah for Barah (alt. 480 feet), passing over
very barren soil, covered with low jungle, the original woods having
apparently been cut for fuel. Our elephant, a timid animal, came on a
drove of camels in the dark by the road-side, and in his alarm
insisted on doing battle, tearing through the thorny jungle,
regardless of the mahout, and still more of me: the uproar raised by
the camel-drivers was ridiculous, and the danger to my barometer
imminent.

We proceeded on the 11th of February to Sheergotty, where Mr.
Williams and his camp were awaiting our arrival. Wherever cultivation
appeared the crops were tolerably luxuriant, but a great deal of the
country yielded scarcely half-a-dozen kinds of plants to any ten
square yards of ground. The most prevalent were _Carissa carandas,
Olax scandens,_ two _Zizyphi,_ and the ever-present _Acacia
Catechu._ The climate is, however, warmer and much moister, for I
here observed dew to be formed, which I afterwards found to be usual
on the low grounds. That its presence is due to the increased amount
of vapour in the atmosphere I shall prove: the amount of radiation,
as shown by the cooling of the earth and vegetation, being the same
in the elevated plain and lower levels.* [See Appendix C.]

The good soil was very richly cultivated with poppy (which I had not
seen before), sugar-cane, wheat, barley, mustard, rape, and flax.
At a distance a field of poppies looks like a green lake, studded
with white water-lilies. The houses, too, are better, and have tiled
roofs; while, in such situations, the road is lined with trees.

A retrospect of the ground passed over is unsatisfactory, as far as
botany is concerned, except as showing how potent are the effects of
a dry soil and climate during one season of the year upon a
vegetation which has no desert types. During the rains probably many
more species would be obtained, for of annuals I scarcely found
twenty. At that season, however, the jungles of Behar and Birbhoom,
though far from tropically luxuriant, are singularly unhealthy.

In a geographical point of view the range of hills between Burdwan
and the Soave is interesting, as being the north-east continuation of
a chain which crosses the broadest part of the peninsula of India,
from the Gulf of Cambay to the junction of the Ganges and Hoogly at
Rajmahal. This range runs south of the Soane and Kymore, which it
meets I believe at Omerkuntuk;* [A lofty mountain said to be
7000-8000 feet high.] the granite of this and the sandstone of the
other, being there both overlaid with trap. Further west again, the
ranges separate, the southern still betraying a nucleus of granite,
forming the Satpur range, which divides the valley of the Taptee from
that of the Nerbudda. The Paras-nath range is, though the most
difficult of definition, the longer of the two parallel ranges;
the Vindhya continued as the Kymore, terminating abruptly at the Fort
of Chunar on the Ganges. The general and geological features of the
two, especially along their eastern course, are very different.
This consists of metamorphic gneiss, in various highly inclined beds,
through which granite hills protrude, the loftiest of which is
Paras-nath. The north-east Vindhya (called Kymore), on the other
hand, consists of nearly horizontal beds of sandstone, overlying
inclined beds of non-fossiliferous limestone. Between the latter and
the Paras-nath gneiss, come (in order of superposition) shivered and
undulating strata of metamorphic quartz, hornstone, hornstone-
porphyry, jaspers, etc. These are thrown up, by greenstone I believe,
along the north and north-west boundary of the gneiss range, and are
to be recognised as forming the rocks of Colgong, of Sultangunj, and
of Monghyr, on the Ganges, as also various detached hills near Gyah,
and along the upper course of the Soane. From these are derived the
beautiful agates and cornelians, so famous under the name of Soane
pebbles, and they are equally common on the Curruckpore range, as on
the south bank of the Soane, so much so in the former position as to
have been used in the decoration of the walls of the now ruined
palaces near Bhagulpore.

In the route I had taken, I had crossed the eastern extremity alone
of the range, commencing with a very gradual ascent, over the
alluvial plains of the west bank of the Hoogly, then over laterite,
succeeded by sandstone of the Indian coal era, which is succeeded by
the granite table-land, properly so called. A little beyond the coal
fields, the table-land reaches an average height of 1130 feet, which
is continued for upwards of 100 miles, to the Dunwah pass. Here the
descent is sudden to plains, which, continuous with those of the
Ganges, run up the Soane till beyond Rotasghur. Except for the
occasional ridges of metamorphic rocks mentioned above, and some
hills of intruded greenstone, the lower plain is stoneless, its
subjacent rocks being covered with a thicker stratum of the same
alluvium which is thinly spread over the higher table-land above.
This range is of great interest from its being the source of many
important rivers,* [The chief rivers from this, the great watershed
of western Bengal, flow north-west and south-east; a few
comparatively insignificant streams running north to the Ganges.
Amongst the former are the Rheru, the Kunner, and the Coyle, which
contribute to the Soane; amongst the latter, the Dammooda, Adji, and
Barakah, flow into the Hoogly, and the Subunrika, Braminee, and
Mahanuddee into the Bay of Bengal.] and of all those which water the
country between the Soane, Hoogly, and Ganges, as well as from its
deflecting the course of the latter river, which washes its base at
Rajmahal, and forcing it to take a sinuous course to the sea. In its
climate and botany it differs equally from the Gangetic plains to the
north, and from the hot, damp, and exuberant forests of Orissa to the
south. Nor are its geological features less different, or its
concomitant and in part resultant characters of agriculture and
native population. Still further west, the great rivers of the
peninsula have their origin, the Nerbudda and Taptee flowing west to
the gulf of Cambay, the Cane to the Jumna, the Soane to the Ganges,
and the northern feeders of the Godavery to the Bay of Bengal.

On the 12th of February, we left Sheergotty (alt. 463 feet), crossing
some small streams, which, like all else seen since leaving the
Dunwah Pass, flow N. to the Ganges. Between Sheergotty and the Soane,
occur many of the isolated hills of greenstone, mentioned above,
better known to the traveller from having been telegraphic stations.
Some are much impregnated with iron, and whether for their colour,
the curious outlines of many, or their position, form quaint, and in
some cases picturesque features in the otherwise tame landscape.

The road being highly cultivated, and the Date-palm becoming more
abundant, we encamped in a grove of these trees. All were curiously
distorted; the trunks growing zigzag, from the practice of yearly
tapping the alternate sides for toddy. The incision is just below the
crown, and slopes upwards and inwards: a vessel is hung below the
wound, and the juice conducted into it by a little piece of bamboo.
This operation spoils the fruit, which, though eaten, is small, and
much inferior to the African date.

At Mudunpore (alt. 440 feet) a thermometer, sunk 3 feet 4 inches in
the soil, maintained a constant temperature of 71.5 degrees, that of
the air varying from 77.5 degrees, at 3 p.m., to 62 at daylight the
following morning; when we moved on to Nourunga (alt. 340 feet),
where I bored to 3 feet 8 inches with a heavy iron jumper through an
alluvium of such excessive tenacity, that eight natives were employed
for four hours in the operation. In both this and another hole,
4 feet 8 inches, the temperature was 72 degrees at 10 p.m.; and on
the following morning 71.5 degrees in the deepest hole, and
70 degrees in the shallower: that of the external air varied from
71 degrees at 3 p.m., to 57 degrees at daylight on the following
morning. At the latter time I took the temperature of the earth near
the surface, which showed, surface 53 degrees, 1 inch 57 degrees,
2 inches 58 degrees, 4 inches 62 degrees, 7 inches 64 degrees.

The following day we marched to Baroon (alt. 345 feet) on the
alluvial banks of the Soane, crossing a deep stream by a pretty
suspension bridge, of which the piers were visible two miles off, so
level is the road. The Soane is here three miles wide, its nearly dry
bed being a desert of sand, resembling a vast arm of the sea when the
tide is out: the banks are very barren, with no trees near, and but
very few in the distance. The houses were scarcely visible on the
opposite side, behind which the Kymore mountains rise. The Soane is a
classical river, being now satisfactorily identified with the
Eranoboas of the ancients.* [The etymology of Eranoboas is
undoubtedly _Hierrinia Vahu_ (Sanskrit), the golden-armed.
Sons is also the Sanskrit for gold. The stream is celebrated for its
agates (Soane pebbles), which are common, but gold is not now
obtained from it.]

The alluvium is here cut into a cliff, ten or twelve feet above the
bed of the river, and against it the sand is blown in naked
_dunes._ At 2 p.m., the surface-sand was heated to 110 degrees
where sheltered from the wind, and 104 degrees in the open bed of the
river. To compare the rapidity and depth to which the heat is
communicated by pure sand, and by the tough alluvium, I took the
temperature at some inches depth in both. That the alluvium absorbs
the heat better, and retains it longer, would appear from the
following, the only observations I could make, owing to the tenacity
of the soil.

2 p.m.
Surface 104 degrees
22.5 inches 93 degrees
5 inches 88 degrees
Sand at this depth 78 degrees.
5 a.m.
Surface 51 degrees
28 inches 68 degrees

Finding the fresh milky juice of _Calotropis_ to be only
72 degrees, I was curious to ascertain at what depth this
temperature was to be obtained in the sand of the river-bed, where
the plant grew.

Surface 104.5 degrees,
1 inch 102 degrees,
2 inches 94 degrees,
2.5 inches 90 degrees,
3.5 inches 85 degrees (Compact),
8 inches 73 degrees (Wet),
15 inches 72 degrees (Wet).

The power this plant exercises of maintaining a low temperature of 72
degrees, though the main portion which is subterraneous is surrounded
by a soil heated to between 90 degrees and 104 degrees, is very
remarkable, and no doubt proximately due to the rapidity of
evaporation from the foliage, and consequent activity in the
circulation. Its exposed leaves maintained a temperature of 80
degrees, nearly 25 degrees cooler than the similarly exposed sand and
alluvium. On the same night the leaves were cooled down to 54
degrees, when the sand had cooled to 51 degrees. Before daylight the
following morning the sand had cooled to 43 degrees, and the leaves
of the _Calotropis_ to 45.5 degrees. I omitted to observe the
temperature of the sap at the latter time; but the sand at the same
depth (15 inches) as that at which its temperature and that of the
plant agreed at mid-day, was 68 degrees. And assuming this to be the
heat of the plant, we find that the leaves are heated by solar
radiation during the day 8 degrees, and cooled by nocturnal
radiation, 22.5 degrees.

Mr. Theobald (my companion in this and many other rambles) pulled a
lizard from a hole in the bank. Its throat was mottled with scales of
brown and yellow. Three ticks had fastened on it, each of a size
covering three or four scales: the first was yellow, corresponding
with the yellow colour of the animal's belly, where it lodged, the
second brown, from the lizard's head; but the third, which was
clinging to the parti-coloured scales of the neck, had its body
parti-coloured, the hues corresponding with the individual scales
which they covered. The adaptation of the two first specimens in
colour to the parts to which they adhered, is sufficiently
remarkable; but the third case was most extraordinary.