Himalayan Journals, vol 2 by J. D. Hooker (android pdf ebook reader TXT) 📕

grew on the elephants' backs, if the Lamas told them so.

No village or house is seen throughout the extensive area over which the eye roams from Bhomtso, and the general character of the desolate landscape was similar to that which I have described as seen from

Donkia Pass (chapter xxii). The wild ass* [This, the Equus Hemionus

of Pallas, the untameable Kiang of Tibet, abounds in Dingcham, and we saw several. It resembles the ass more than the horse, from its size, heavy head, small limbs, thin tail, and the stripe over the shoulder.

The flesh is eaten and much liked. The Kiang-lah mountains are so

named from their being a great resort of this creature. It differs

widely from the wild ass of Persia, Sind, and Beloochistan, but is

undoubtedly the same as the Siberian animal.] grazing with its foal on the sloping downs, the hare bounding over the stony soil, the

antelope scouring the sandy flats, and the fox stealing along to his burrow, are all desert and Tartarian types of the animal creation.

The shrill whistle of the marmot alone breaks the silence of the

scene, recalling the snows of Lapland to the mind; the kite and raven wheel through the air, 1000 feet over head, with as strong and steady a pinion as if that atmosphere possessed the same power of resistance that it does at the level of the sea. Still higher in the heavens,

long black V-shaped trains of wild geese cleave the air, shooting

over the glacier-crowned top of Kinchinjhow, and winging their flight in one day, perhaps, from the Yaru to the Ganges, over 500 miles of space, and through 22,000 feet of elevation. One plant alone, the

yellow lichen (Borrera), is found at this height, and only as a

visitor; for, Tartar-like, it emigrates over these lofty slopes and ridges, blown about by the violent winds. I found a small beetle on the very top,* [I observed a small red Acarus (mite) at this

elevation, both on Donkia and Kinchinjhow, which reminds me that I

found a species of the same genus at Cockburn Island (in latitude 64

degrees south, longitude 64 degrees 49 minutes west). This genus

hence inhabits a higher southern latitude than any other land animal attains.] probably blown up also, for it was a flower-feeder, and

seemed benumbed with cold.

Every night that we spent in Tibet, we enjoyed a magnificent display of sunbeams converging to the east, and making a false sunset.

I detailed this phenomenon when seen from the Kymore mountains, and I repeatedly saw it again in the Khasia, but never in the Sikkim

Himalaya, whence I assume that it is most frequent in mountain

plateaus. As the sun set, broad purple beams rose from a dark, low, leaden bank on the eastern horizon, and spreading up to the zenith, covered the intervening space: they lasted through the twilight, from fifteen to twenty minutes, fading gradually into the blackness of

night. I looked in vain for the beautiful lancet beam of the zodiacal light; its position was obscured by Chomiomo.

On the 18th of October we had another brilliant morning, after a cold night, the temperature having fallen to 4 degrees. I took the

altitude of Yeumtso by carefully boiling two thermometers, and the

result was 16,279 feet, the barometrical observations giving 16,808

feet. I removed a thermometer sunk three feet in the gravelly soil, which showed a temperature of 43 degrees,* [It had risen to 43.5

degrees during the previous day.] which is 12.7 degrees above the

mean temperature of the two days we camped here.

Our fires were made of dry yak droppings which soon burn out with a fierce flame, and much black smoke; they give a disagreeable taste to whatever is cooked with them.

Having sent the coolies forward to Cholamoo lake, we re-ascended

Bhomtso to verify my observations. As on the previous occasion a

violent dry north-west wind blew, peeling the skin from our faces,

loading the air with grains of sand, and rendering theodolite

observations very uncertain; besides injuring all my instruments, and exposing them to great risk of breakage.

The Tibetan Sepoys did not at all understand our ascending Bhomtso a second time; they ran after Campbell, who was ahead on a stout pony, girding up their long garments, bracing their matchlocks tight over their shoulders, and gasping for breath at every step, the long horns of their muskets bobbing up and down as they toiled amongst the

rocks. When I reached the top I found Campbell seated behind a little stone wall which he had raised to keep off the violent wind, and the uncouth warriors in a circle round him, puzzled beyond measure at his admiration of the view. My instruments perplexed them extremely, and in crowding round me, they broke my azimuth compass. They left us to ourselves when the fire I made to boil the thermometers went out, the wind being intensely cold. I had given my barometer to one of

Campbell's men to carry, who not coming up, the latter kindly went to search for him, and found him on the ground quite knocked up and

stupified by the cold, and there, if left alone, he would have lain till overtaken by death.

The barometer on the summit of Bhomtso stood at 15.548 inches;* [The elevation of Bhomtso, worked by Bessel's tables, and using corrected observations of the Calcutta barometer for the lower station, is

18,590 feet. The corresponding dew-point 4.4 degrees (49.6 degrees

below that of the air at the time of observation). By Oltmann's

tables the elevation is 18,540 feet. The elevation by boiling water is 18,305.] the temperature between 11.30 a.m. and 2.30 p.m.

fluctuated between 44 degrees and 56 degrees: this was very high for so great an elevation, and no doubt due to the power of the sun on

the sterile soil, and consequent radiated heat. The tension of vapour was .0763, and the dew-point was 5.8 degrees, or 43.5 degrees below the temperature of the air. Such extraordinary dryness* [The weight of vapour in a cubic foot of air was no more than .087 of a grain,

and the saturation-point .208.] and consequent evaporation, increased by the violent wind, sufficiently accounts for the height of the snow line; in further evidence of which, I may add that a piece of ice or snow laid on the ground here, does not melt, but disappears

by evaporation.

The difference between the dry cold air of this elevation and that of the heated plains of India, is very great. During the driest winds of the Terai, in spring, the temperature is 80 degrees to 90 degrees,

the tension of vapour is .400 to .500, with a dew-point 22 degrees

below the temperature, and upwards of six grains of vapour are

suspended in the cubic foot of air; a thick haze obscures the

heavens, and clouds of dust rise high in the air; here on the other hand (probably owing to the rarity of the atmosphere and the low

tension of its vapours), the drought is accompanied by perfect

transparency, and the atmosphere is too attenuated to support the

dust raised by the wind.

We descended in the afternoon, and on our way up the Lachen valley

examined a narrow gulley in a lofty red spur from Kinchinjhow, where black shales were in situ, striking north-east, and dipping

north-west 45 degrees. These shales were interposed between beds of yellow quartz conglomerate, upon the latter of which rested a talus of earthy rocks, angular fragments of which were strewed about

opposite this spur, but were not seen elsewhere.

It became dark before we reached the Cholamoo lake, where we lost our way amongst glaciers, moraines, and marshes. We expected to have seen the lights of the camp, but were disappointed, and as it was freezing hard, we began to be anxious, and shouted till the echos of our

voices against the opposite bank were heard by Tchebu Lama, who met us in great alarm for our safety. Our camp was pitched some way from the shore, on a broad plain, 16,900 feet above the sea.* [This, which is about the level of the lake, gives the Lachen river a fall of

about 1500 feet between its source and Kongra Lama, or sixty feet per mile following its windings. From Kongra Lama to Tallum it is 140

feet per mile; from Tallum to Singtam 160 feet; and from Singtam to the plains of India 50 feet per mile. The total fall from Cholamoo

lake to its exit on the plains of India is eighty-five feet per mile.

Its length, following its windings, is 195 miles, upwards of double the direct distance.] A cold wind descended from Donkia; yet, though more elevated than Yeumtso, the climate of Cholamoo, from being

damper and misty, was milder. The minimum thermometer fell to

14 degrees.

Before starting for Donkia pass on the following morning, we visited some black rocks which rose from the flat to the east of the lake.

They proved to be of fossiliferous limestone, the strata of which

were much disturbed: the strike appeared in one part north-west, and the dip north-east 45 degrees: a large fault passed east by north

through the cliff, and it was further cleft by joints running

northwards. The cliff was not 100 yards long, and was about 70 thick; its surface was shivered by frost into cubical masses, and glacial

boulders of gneiss lay on the top. The limestone rock was chiefly a blue pisolite conglomerate, with veins and crystals of white

carbonate of lime, seams of shale, and iron pyrites. A part was

compact and blue, very crystalline, and full of encrinitic fossils, and probably nummulites, but all were too much altered for

determination.

This, from its mineral characters, appears to be the same limestone formation which occurs throughout the Himalaya and Western Tibet; but the fossils I collected are in too imperfect a state to warrant any conclusions on this subject. Its occurrence immediately to the

northward of the snowy mountains, and in such very small quantities, are very remarkable facts. The neighbouring rocks of Donkia were

gneiss with granite veins, also striking north-west and dipping

north-east 10 degrees, as if they overlay the limestone, but here as in all similar situations there was great confusion of the strata,

and variation in direction and strike.

And here I may once for all confess that though I believe the general strike of the rocks on this frontier to be north-west, and the dip

north-east, I am unable to affirm it positively; for though I took

every opportunity of studying the subject, and devoted many hours to the careful measuring and recording of dips and strikes, on both

faces of Kinchinjhow, Donkia, Bhomtso, and Kongra Lama, I am unable to reduce these to any intelligible system.* [North-west is the

prevalent strike in Kumaon, the north-west Himalaya generally, and

throughout Western Tibet, Kashmir, etc., according to Dr. Thomson.]

The coolies of Dr. Campbell's party were completely knocked up by the rarified air; they had taken a whole day to march here from Yeumtso, scarcely six miles, and could eat no food at night. A Lama of our

party offered up prayers* [All diseases are attributed by the

Tibetans to the four elements, who are propitiated accordingly in

cases of severe illness. The winds are invoked in cases of affections of the breathing; fire in fevers and inflammations; water in dropsy, and diseases whereby the fluids are affected; and the God of earth

when solid organs are diseased, as in liver-complaints, rheumatism, etc. Propitiatory offerings are made to the deities of these

elements, but never sacrifices.] to Kinchinjhow for the recovery of a stout Lepcha lad (called Nurko), who showed