Himalayan Journals, vol 1 by J. D. Hooker (best thriller books to read txt) 📕

Fig. 21. Ancient moraines surrounding the lower lake-bed in the Yangma valley (looking west). p.234

Fig. 22. Second lake-bed in the Yangma valley, with Nango mountain, (looking east). p.237

Fig. 23. Diagram of the terraces and glacial boulders, etc., at the fork of the Yangma valley (looking northwest up the valley). The terraces are represented as much too level and angular, and the boulders too large, the woodcut being intended as a diagram rather than as a view. p.242

Fig. 24. View of the head of the Yangma valley, and ancient moraines of debris, which rise in confused hills several hundred feet above the floor of the valley below the Kanglachem pass (elevation 16,000

feet). p.245

Fig. 25. Skulls of Ovis ammon. Sketched by J. E. Winterbottom, Esq. p.249

Fig. 26. Ancient moraines, in which small lake-beds occur, in the Kambachen valley (elevation 11,400 feet). p.260

Fig. 21. Brass box to contain amulets, from Tibet. p.270

Fig. 23. Pemiongchi goompa (or temple) with Chaits in the foreground.

p.286

Fig. 29. Costumes of Sikkim lamas and monks, with the bell, mani, dobje, and trident. p.291

Fig. 30. The Do-mani stone, with gigantic Tibetan characters. p.294

Fig. 31. Implements of worship in the Sikkim temples. p.314

Fig. 32. Chaits at Tassiding, with decayed funereal cypresses. p.316

Fig. 33. Vestibule of temple at Tassiding. p.319

Fig. 34. Southern temple, at Tassiding. p.320

Fig. 35. Middle temple, at Tassiding, with mounted yaks. p.321

Fig. 36. Chair, altar, and images in the great temple at Tassiding.

p.322

Fig. 37. Ground-plan of southern temple at Tassiding. p.323

Fig. 38. Interior of temple at Pemiongchi, the walls covered with allegorical paintings. p.329

Fig. 39. Doobdi temple, with young and old funereal cypress. p.337

Fig. 40. Summit of Kinchinjunga, with Pundim on the right; its black cliff traversed by white granite veins. p.347

Fig. 41. Image of Maitrya, the coming Boodh. p.357

Fig. 42. Stone altar, and erection for burning juniper ashes. p.361

Fig. 43. Facsimile of the vermilion seal of the Dhurma Rajah of Bhotan, head of the Dookpa sect of Boodhists. Opposite p.372

Fig. 44. A Mech, native of the Sikkim Terai. Sketched by Miss Colvile. p.406

Fig. 45. Mech pocket-comb (of wood). p.408

HIMALAYAN JOURNALS.

CHAPTER I.

Sunderbunds vegetation — Calcutta Botanic Garden — Leave for Burdwan — Rajah’s gardens and menagerie — Coal-beds, geology, and plants of — Lac insect and plant — Camels — Kunker — Cowage —

Effloresced soda on soil — Glass, manufacture of — Atmospheric vapours — Temperature, etc. — Mahowa oil and spirits — Maddaobund — Jains — Ascent of Parasnath — Vegetation of that mountain.

I left England on the 11th of November, 1847, and performed the voyage to India under circumstances which have been detailed in the Introduction. On the 12th of January, 1848, the “Moozuffer” was steaming amongst the low swampy islands of the Sunderbunds.

These exhibit no tropical luxuriance, and are, in this respect, exceedingly disappointing. A low vegetation covers them, chiefly made up of a dwarf-palm (_Phoenix paludosa_) and small mangroves, with a few scattered trees on the higher bank that runs along the water’s edge, consisting of fan-palm, toddy-palm, and Terminalia. Every now and then, the paddles of the steamer tossed up the large fruits of Nipa fruticans, a low stemless palm that grows in the tidal waters of the Indian ocean, and bears a large head of nuts. It is a plant of no interest to the common observer, but of much to the geologist, from the nuts of a similar plant abounding in the tertiary formations at the mouth of the Thames, and having floated about there in as great profusion as here, till buried deep in the silt and mud that now forms the island of Sheppey.* [Bowerbank “On the Fossil Fruits and Seeds of the Isle of Sheppey,” and Lyell’s “Elements of Geology,” 3rd ed. p.

201.]

Higher up, the river Hoogly is entered, and large trees, with villages and cultivation, replace the sandy spits and marshy jungles of the great Gangetic delta. A few miles below Calcutta, the scenery becomes beautiful, beginning with the Botanic Garden, once the residence of Roxburgh and Wallich, and now of Falconer,—classical ground to the naturalist. Opposite are the gardens of Sir Lawrence Peel; unrivalled in India for their beauty and cultivation, and fairly entitled to be called the Chatsworth of Bengal. A little higher up, Calcutta opened out, with the batteries of Fort William in the foreground, thundering forth a salute, and in a few minutes more all other thoughts were absorbed in watching the splendour of the arrangements made for the reception of the Governor-General of India.

During my short stay in Calcutta, I was principally occupied in preparing for an excursion with Mr. Williams of the Geological Survey, who was about to move his camp from the Damooda valley coal-fields, near Burdwan, to Beejaghur on the banks of the Soane, where coal was reported to exist, in the immediate vicinity of water-carriage, the great desideratum of the Burdwan fields.

My time was spent partly at Government-House, and partly at Sir Lawrence Peel’s residence. The former I was kindly invited to consider as my Indian home, an honour which I appreciate the more highly, as the invitation was accompanied with the assurance that I should have entire freedom to follow my own pursuits; and the advantages which such a position afforded me, were, I need not say, of no ordinary kind.

At the Botanic Gardens I received every assistance from Dr.

McLelland,* [Dr. Falconer’s locum tenens, then in temporary charge of the establishment.] who was very busy, superintending the publication of the botanical papers and drawings of his friend, the late Dr. Griffith, for which native artists were preparing copies on lithographic paper.

Of the Gardens themselves it is exceedingly difficult to speak; the changes had been so very great, and from a state with which I had no acquaintance. There had been a great want of judgment in the alterations made since Dr. Wallich’s time, when they were celebrated as the most beautiful gardens in the east, and were the great object of attraction to strangers and townspeople. I found instead an unsightly wilderness, without shade (the first requirement of every tropical garden) or other beauties than some isolated grand trees, which had survived the indiscriminate destruction of the useful and ornamental which had attended the well-meant but ill-judged attempt to render a garden a botanical class-book. It is impossible to praise too highly Dr. Griffith’s abilities and acquirements as a botanist, his perseverance and success as a traveller, or his matchless industry in the field and in the closet; and it is not wonderful, that, with so many and varied talents, he should have wanted the eye of a landscape-gardener, or the education of a horticulturist.

I should, however, be wanting in my duty to his predecessor, and to his no less illustrious successor, were these remarks withheld, proceeding, as they do, from an unbiassed observer, who had the honour of standing in an equally friendly relation to all parties.

Before leaving India, I saw great improvements, but many years must elapse before the gardens can resume their once proud pre-eminence.

I was surprised to find the Botanical Gardens looked upon by many of the Indian public, and even by some of the better informed official men, as rather an extravagant establishment, more ornamental than useful. These persons seemed astonished to learn that its name was renowned throughout Europe, and that during the first twenty years especially of Dr. Wallich’s superintendence, it had contributed more useful and ornamental tropical plants to the public and private gardens of the world than any other establishment before or since.*

[As an illustration of this, I may refer to a Report presented to the government of Bengal, from which it appears that between January, 1836, and December, 1840, 189,932 plants were distributed gratis to nearly 2000 different gardens.] I speak from a personal knowledge of the contents of our English gardens, and our colonial ones at the Cape, and in Australia, and from an inspection of the ponderous volumes of distribution lists, to which Dr. Falconer is daily adding.

The botanical public of Europe and India is no less indebted than the horticultural to the liberality of the Hon. East India Company, and to the energy of the several eminent men who have carried their views into execution.* [I here allude to the great Indian herbarium, chiefly formed by the staff of the Botanic Gardens under the direction of Dr. Wallich, and distributed in 1829 to the principal museums of Europe. This is the most valuable contribution of the kind ever made to science, and it is a lasting memorial: of the princely liberality of the enlightened men who ruled the counsels of India in those days. No botanical work of importance has been published since 1829, without recording its sense of the obligation, and I was once commissioned by a foreign government, to purchase for its national museum, at whatever cost, one set of these collections, which was brought to the hammer on the death of its possessor. I have heard it remarked that the expense attending the distribution was enormous, and I have reason to know that this erroneous impression has had an unfavourable influence upon the destination of scarcely less valuable collections, which have for years been lying untouched in the cellars of the India House. I may add that officers who have exposed their lives and impaired their health in forming similar ones at the orders and expense of the Indian government, are at home, and thrown upon their own resources, or the assistance of their scientific brethren, for the means of publishing and distributing the fruits of their labours.] The Indian government, itself, has already profited largely by these gardens, directly and indirectly, and might have done so still more, had its efforts been better seconded either by the European or native population of the country. Amongst its greatest triumphs may be considered the introduction of the tea-plant from China, a fact I allude to, as many of my English readers may not be aware that the establishment of the tea-trade in the Himalaya and Assam is almost entirely the work of the superintendents of the gardens of Calcutta and Seharunpore.

From no one did I receive more kindness than from Sir James Colvile, President of the Asiatic Society, who not only took care that I should be provided with every comfort, but presented me with a completely equipped palkee, which, for strength and excellence of construction, was everything that a traveller could desire.

Often en route did I mentally thank him when I saw other palkees breaking down, and travellers bewailing the loss of those forgotten necessaries, with which his kind attention had furnished me.

I left Calcutta to join Mr. Williams’ camp on the 28th of January, driving to Hoogly on the river of that name, and thence following the grand trunk-road westward towards Burdwan. The novelty of palkee-travelling at first renders it pleasant; the neatness with which every thing is packed, the good-humour of the bearers, their merry pace, and the many more comforts enjoyed than could be expected in a conveyance horsed by men, the warmth when the sliding doors are shut, and the breeze when they are open, are all fully appreciated on first starting, but soon the novelty wears off, and the discomforts are so numerous, that it is pronounced, at best, a barbarous conveyance. The greedy cry and gestures of the bearers, when, on changing, they break a fitful sleep by poking a torch in your face, and vociferating “Bucksheesh, Sahib;” their discontent at the most liberal largesse, and the sluggishness of the next set who want bribes, put the traveller out of patience