Chapter 30

Boat voyage to Silhet -- River -- Palms -- Teelas -- Botany -- Fish weirs -- Forests of Cachar -- Sandal-wood, etc. -- Porpoises -- Alligators -- Silchar -- Tigers -- Rice crops -- Cookies -- Munniporees -- Hockey -- Varnish -- Dance -- Nagas -- Excursion to Munnipore frontier -- Elephant bogged -- Bamboos -- _Cardiopteris_ -- Climate, etc., of Cachar -- Mosquitos -- Fall of banks -- Silhet -- Oaks -- _Stylidium_ -- Tree-ferns -- Chattuc -- Megna -- Meteorology -- Palms -- Noacolly -- Salt-smuggling -- Delta of Ganges and Megna -- Westward progress of Megna -- Peat -- Tide -- Waves -- Earthquakes -- Dangerous navigation -- Moonlight scenes -- Mud island -- Chittagong -- Mug tribes -- Views -- Trees -- Churs -- Flagstaff hill -- Coffee -- Pepper -- Tea, etc. -- Excursions from Chittagong -- _Dipterocarpi_ or Gurjun oil trees -- Earthquake -- Birds -- Papaw -- Bleeding of stems -- Poppy and Sun fields -- Seetakoond -- Bungalow and hill -- Perpetual flame -- _Falconeria -- Cycas_ -- Climate -- Leave for Calcutta -- Hattiah island -- Plants -- Sunderbunds -- Steamer -- Tides -- _Nipa fruticans_ -- Fishing -- Otters -- Crocodiles -- _Phoenix paludosa_ -- Departure from India.

We left Churra on the 17th of November, and taking boats at Pundua, crossed the Jheels to the Soormah, which we ascended to Silhet. Thence we continued our voyage 120 miles up the river in canoes, to Silchar, the capital of the district of Cachar: the boats were such as I described at Chattuc, and though it was impossible to sit upright in them, they were paddled with great swiftness. The river at Silhet is 200 yards broad; it is muddy, and flows with a gentle current of two to three miles an hour, between banks six to twelve feet high. As we glided up its stream, villages became rarer, and eminences more frequent in the Jheels. The people are a tall, bold, athletic Mahometan race, who live much on the water, and cultivate rice, sesamum, and radishes, with betel-pepper in thatched enclosures as in Sikkim: maize and sugar are rarer, bamboos abound, and four palms (_Borassus, Areca,_ cocoa-nut, and _Caryota_) are planted, but there are no date-palms.

The Teelas (or hillocks) are the haunts of wild boars, tigers, and elephants, but not of the rhinoceros; they are 80 to 200 feet high, of horizontally stratified gravel and sand, slates, and clay conglomerates, with a slag-like honey-combed sandstone; they are covered with oaks, figs, _Heretiera,_ and bamboos, and besides a multitude of common Bengal plants, there are some which, though generally considered mountain or cold country genera, here descend to the level of the sea; such are _Kadsura, Rubus, Camellia,_ and _Sabia_; _Aerides_ and _Saccolabia_ are the common orchids, and rattan-canes and _Pandani_ render the jungles impenetrable.

A very long sedge (_Scleria_) grows by the water, and is used for thatching: boatloads of it are collected for the Calcutta market, for which also were destined many immense rafts of bamboo, 100 feet long. The people fish much, using square and triangular drop-nets stretched upon bamboos, and rude basket-work weirs, that retain the fish as the river falls. Near the villages we saw fragments of pottery three feet below the surface of the ground, shewing that the bank, which is higher than the surrounding country, increases from the annual overflow.

About seventy miles up the river, the mountains on the north, which are east of Jyntea, rise 4000 feet high in forest-clad ranges like those of Sikkim. Swamps extend from the river to their base, and penetrate their valleys, which are extremely malarious: these forests are frequented by timber-cutters, who fell jarool (_Lagerstroemia Reginae_), a magnificent tree with red wood, which, though soft, is durable under water, and therefore in universal use for boat-building. The toon is also cut, with red sandal-wood (_Adenanthera pavonina_); also Nageesa,* [There is much dispute amongst oriental scholars about the word Nageesa; the Bombay philologists refer it to a species of _Garcinia,_ whilst the pundits on the Calcutta side of India consider it to be _Mesua ferrea._ Throughout our travels in India, we were struck with the undue reliance placed on native names of plants, and information of all kinds; and the pertinacity with which each linguist adhered to his own crotchet as to the application of terms to natural objects, and their pronunciation. It is a very prevalent, but erroneous, impression, that savage and half-civilised people have an accurate knowledge of objects of natural history, and a uniform nomenclature for them.] _Mesua ferrea,_ which is highly valued for its weight, strength, and durability: _Aquilaria agallocha,_ the eagle-wood, a tree yielding uggur oil, is also much sought for its fragrant wood, which is carried to Silhet and Azmerigunj, where it is broken up and distilled. Neither teak, sissoo, sal, nor other _Dipterocarpi,_ are found in these forests.

Porpoises, and both the long and the short-nosed alligator, ascend the Soormah for 120 miles, being found beyond Silchar, which place we reached on the 22nd, and were most hospitably received by Colonel Lister, the political agent commanding the Silhet Light Infantry, who was inspecting the Cookie levy, a corps of hill-natives which had lately been enrolled.

The station is a small one, and stands about forty feet above the river, which however rises half that height in the rains. Long low spurs of tertiary rocks stretch from the Tipperah hills for many miles north, through the swampy Jheels to the river; and there are also hills on the opposite or north side, but detached from the Cookie hills, as the lofty blue range twelve miles north of the Soormah is called. All these mountains swarm with tigers, wild buffalos, and boars, which also infest the long grass of the Jheels.

The elevation of the house we occupied at Silchar was 116 feet above the sea. The bank it stood on was of clay, with soft rocks of conglomerate, which often assume the appearance of a brown sandy slag.

During the first Birmese war, Colonel Lister was sent with a force up to this remote corner of Bengal, when the country was an uninhabited jungle, so full of tigers that not a day passed without one or more of his grass or wood-cutters being carried off. Now, thousands of acres are cultivated with rice, and during our stay we did not see a tiger. The quantity of land brought into cultivation in this part of Bengal, and indeed throughout the Gangetic delta, has probably been doubled during the last twenty years, and speaks volumes for the state of the peasant under the Indian Company's sway, as compared with his former condition. The Silchar rice is of admirable quality, and much is imported to Silhet, the Jheels not producing grain enough for the consumption of the people. Though Silchar grows enough for ten times its population, there was actually a famine six weeks before our arrival, the demand from Silhet being so great.

The villages of Cachar are peopled by Mahometans, Munniporees, Nagas, and Cookies; the Cacharies themselves being a poor and peaceful jungle tribe, confined to the mountains north of the Soormah. The Munniporees* [The Munnipore valley has never been explored by any naturalist, its mountains are said to be pine-clad, and to rise 8000 feet above the level of the sea. The Rajah is much harassed by the Birmese, and is a dependant of the British, who are in the very frequent dilemma of supporting on the throne a sovereign opposed by a strong faction of his countrymen, and who has very dubious claims to his position. During our stay at Silchar, the supposed rightful Rajah was prevailing over the usurper; a battle had been fought on the hills on the frontier, and two bodies floated past our bungalow, pierced with arrows.] are emigrants from the kingdom of that name, which lies beyond the British possessions, and borders on Assam and Birmah. Low ranges of forest-clad mountains at the head of the Soormah, separate it from Silchar, with which it is coterminous; the two chief towns being seven marches apart. To the south-east of Silchar are interminable jungles, peopled by the Cookies, a wild Indo-Chinese tribe, who live in a state of constant warfare, and possess the whole hill-country from this, southward to beyond Chittagong. Two years ago they invaded and ravaged Cachar, carrying many of the inhabitants into slavery, and so frightening the people, that land previously worth six rupees a biggah, is now reduced to one and a half. Colonel Lister was sent with a strong party to rescue the captives, and marched for many days through their country without disturbing man or beast; penetrating deep forests of gigantic trees and tall bamboos, never seeing the sun above, or aught to the right and left, save an occasional clearance and a deserted village. The incursion, however, had its effects, and the better inclined near the frontier have since come forward, and been enrolled as the Cookie levy.

The Munnipore emigrants are industrious settlers for a time, but never remain long in one place: their religion is Hindoo, and they keep up a considerable trade with their own country, whence they import a large breed of buffalos, ponies, silks, and cotton cloths dyed with arnotto (_Bixa_), and universally used for turbans. They use bamboo blowing-tubes and arrows for shooting birds, make excellent shields of rhinoceros hide (imported from Assam), and play at hockey on horseback like the Western Tibetans. A fine black varnish from the fruit of _Holigarna longifolia,_ is imported from Munnipore, as is another made from _Sesuvium Anacardium_ (marking-nut), and a remarkable black pigment resembling that from _Melanorhoea usitatissima,_ which is white when fresh, and requires to be kept under water.* [This turns of a beautiful black colour when applied to a surface, owing, according to Sir D. Brewster, to the fresh varnish consisting of a congeries of minute organised particles, which disperse the rays of light in all directions; the organic structure is destroyed when the varnish dries and the rays of light are consequently transmitted.]

One fine moonlight night we went to see a Munnipore dance. A large circular area was thatched with plantain leaves, growing on their trunks, which were stuck in the ground; and round the enclosure was a border neatly cut from the white leaf-sheaths of the same tree. A double enclosure of bamboo, similarly ornamented, left an inner circle for the performers, and an outer for the spectators: the whole was lighted with oil lamps and Chinese paper lanterns. The musicians sat on one side, with cymbals, tomtoms, and flutes, and sang choruses.

The performances began by a copper-coloured Cupid entering and calling the virgins with a flute; these appeared from a green-room, to the number of thirty or forty, of all ages and sizes. Each had her hair dressed in a topknot, and her head covered with a veil; a scarlet petticoat loaded with tinsel concealed her naked feet, and over this was a short red kirtle, and an enormous white shawl was swathed round the body from the armpits to the waist. A broad belt passed over the right shoulder and under the left arm, to which hung gold and silver chains, corals, etc., with tinsel and small mirrors sewed on everywhere: the arms and hands were bare, and decorated with bangles and rings.

Many of the women were extremely tall, great stature being common amongst the Munniporees. They commenced with a prostration to Cupid, around whom they danced very slowly, with the arms stretched out, and the hands in motion; at each step the free foot was swung backwards and forwards. Cupid then chose a partner, and standing in the middle went through the same motions, a compliment the women acknowledged by curtseying and whirling round, making a sort of cheese with their petticoats, which, however, were too heavy to inflate properly.

The Nagas are another people found on this frontier, chiefly on the hills to the north: they are a wild, copper-coloured, uncouth jungle tribe, who have proved troublesome on the Assam frontier. Their features are more Tartar than those of the Munniporees, especially amongst the old men. They bury their dead under the threshold of their cottages. The men are all but naked, and stick plumes of hornbills' feathers in their hair, which is bound with strips of bamboo: tufts of small feathers are passed through their ears, and worn as shoulder lappets. A short blue cotton cloth, with a fringe of tinsel and tufts of goat's hair dyed red, is passed over the loins in front only: they also wear brass armlets, and necklaces of cowries, coral, amber, ivory, and boar's teeth. The women draw a fringed blue cloth tightly across the breast, and wear a checked or striped petticoat. They are less ornamented than the men, and are pleasing looking; their hair is straight, and cut short over the eyebrows.

The Naga dances are very different from those of the Munniporees; being quick, and performed in excellent time to harmonious music. The figures are regular, like quadrilles and country-dances: the men hold their knives erect during the performance, the women extend their arms only when turning partners, and then their hands are not given, but the palms are held opposite. The step is a sort of polka and balancez, very graceful and lively. A bar of music is always played first, and at the end the spectators applaud with two short shouts. Their ear for music, and the nature of their dance, are as Tibetan as their countenances, and different from those of the Indo-Chinese tribes of the frontier.

We had the pleasure of meeting Lieutenant Raban at Silchar, and of making several excursions in the neighbourhood with him; for which Colonel Lister here, as at Churra, afforded us every facility of elephants and men. Had we had time, it was our intention to have visited Munnipore, but we were anxious to proceed to Chittagong. I however made a three days' excursion to the frontier, about thirty miles distant, proceeding along the north bank of the Soormah. On the way my elephant got bogged in crossing a deep muddy stream: this is sometimes an alarming position, as should the animal become terrified, he will seize his rider, or pad, or any other object (except his driver), to place under his knees to prevent his sinking. In this instance the driver in great alarm ordered me off, and I had to flounder out through the black mud. The elephant remained fast all night, and was released next morning by men with ropes.

The country continued a grassy level, with marshes and rice cultivation, to the first range of hills, beyond which the river is unnavigable; there also a forest commences, of oaks, figs, and the common trees of east Bengal. The road hence was a good one, cut by Sepoys across the dividing ranges, the first of which is not 500 feet high. On the ascent bamboos abound, of the kind called Tuldah or Dulloah, which has long very thin-walled joints; it attains no great size, but is remarkably gregarious. On the east side of the range, the road runs through soft shales and beds of clay, and conglomerates, descending to a broad valley covered with gigantic scattered timber-trees of jarool, acacia, _Diospyros, Urticeae,_ and _Bauhiniae,_ rearing their enormous trunks above the bamboo jungle: immense rattan-canes wound through the forest, and in the gullies were groves of two kinds of tree-fern, two of _Areca, Wallichia_ palm, screw-pine, and _Dracaena._ Wild rice grew abundantly in the marshes, with tal1 grasses; and _Cardiopteris_* [A remarkable plant of unknown affinity; see Brown and Bennett, "Flora Java:" it is found in the Assam valley and Chittagong.] covered the trees for upwards of sixty feet, like hops, with a mass of pale-green foliage, and dry white glistening seed-vessels. This forest differed from those of the Silhet and Khasia mountains, especially in the abundance of bamboo jungle, which is, I believe, the prevalent feature of the low hills in Birmah, Ava, and Munnipore; also in the gigantic size of the rattans, 1arger palms, and different forest trees, and in the scanty undergrowth of herbs and bushes. I only saw, however, the skirts of the forest; the mountains further east, which I am told rise several thousand feet in limestone cliffs, are doubtless richer in herbaceous plants.

The climate of Cachar partakes of that of the Jheels in its damp equable character: during our stay the weather was fine, and dense fogs formed in the morning: the mean maximum was 80 degrees, minimum 58.4 degrees.* [The temperature does not rise above 90 degrees in summer, nor sink below 45 degrees or 50 degrees in January: forty-seven comparative observations with Calcutta showed the mean temperature to be 1.8 degrees lower at Silchar, and the air damper, the saturation point being, at Calcutta 0.3791, at Silchar 0.4379.]

The annual rain-fall in 1850 was 111.60 inches, according to a register kindly given me by Captain Verner. There are few mosquitos, which is one of the most curious facts in the geographical distribution of these capricious bloodsuckers; for the locality is surrounded by swamps, and they swarm at Silhet, and on the river lower down. Both on the passage up and down, we were tormented in our canoes by them for eighty or ninety miles above Silhet, and thence onwards to Cachar we were free.

On the 30th of November, we were preparing for our return to Silhet, and our canoes were loading, when we were surprised by a loud rushing noise, and saw a high wave coming down the river, swamping every boat that remained on its banks, whilst most of those that pushed out into the stream, escaped with a violent rocking. It was caused by a slip of the bank three quarters of a mile up the stream, of no great size, but which propagated a high wave. This appeared to move on at about the rate of a mile in three or four minutes, giving plenty of time for our boatmen to push out from the land on hearing the shouts of those first overtaken by the calamity; but they were too timid, and consequently one of our canoes, full of papers, instruments, and clothes, was swamped. Happily our dried collections were not embarked, and the hot sun repaired much of the damage.

We left in the evening of the 2nd of December, and proceeded to Silhet, where we were kindly received by Mr. Stainforth, the district judge. Silhet, the capital of the district of the same name, is a large Mahometan town, occupying a slightly raised part of the Jheels, where many of the Teelas seem joined together by beds of gravel and sand. In the rains it, is surrounded by water, and all communication with other parts is by boats: in winter, Jynteapore and Pundua may be reached by land, crossing creeks innumerable on the way. Mr. Stainforth's house, like those of most of the other Europeans, occupies the top of one of the Teelas, 150 feet high, and is surrounded by fine spreading oaks,* [It is not generally known that oaks are often very tropical plants; not only abounding at low elevations in the mountains, but descending in abundance to the level of the sea. Though unknown in Ceylon, the Peninsula of India, tropical Africa, or South America, they abound in the hot valleys of the Eastern Himalaya, East Bengal, Malay Peninsula, and Indian islands; where perhaps more species grow than in any other part of the world. Such facts as this disturb our preconceived notions of the geographical distribution of the most familiar tribes of plants, and throw great doubt on the conclusions which fossil plants are supposed to indicate.] _Garcinia,_ and _Diospyros_ trees. The rock of which the hill is composed, is a slag-like ochreous sandstone, covered in most places with a shrubbery of rose-flowered _Melastoma,_ and some peculiar plants.* [_Gelonium, Adelia, Moacurra, Linostoma, Justicia, Trophis, Connarus, Ixora, Congea, Dalhousiea, Grewia, Myrsine, Buttneria_; and on the shady exposures a _Calamus, Briedelia,_ and various ferns.]

Broad flat valleys divide the hills, and are beautifully clothed with a bright green jungle of small palms, and many kinds of ferns. In sandy places, blue-flowered _Burmannia, Hypoxis,_ and other pretty tropical annuals, expand their blossoms, with an inconspicuous _Stylidium,_ a plant belonging to a small natural family, whose limits are so confined to New Holland, that this is almost the only kind that does not grow in that continent. Where the ground is swampy, dwarf _Pandanus_ abounds, with the gigantic nettle, _Urtica crenulata_ ("Mealum-ma" of Sikkim, see chapter xxiv).

The most interesting botanical ramble about Silhet is to the tree-fern groves on the path to Jynteapore, following the bottoms of shallow valleys between the Teelas, and along clear streams, up whose beds we waded for some miles, under an arching canopy of tropical shrubs, trees, and climbers, tall grasses, screw-pines, and _Aroideae._ In the narrower parts of the valleys the tree-ferns are numerous on the slopes, rearing their slender brown trunks forty feet high, with feathery crowns of foliage, through which the sun-beams trembled on the broad shining foliage of the tropical herbage below.

Silhet, though hot and damp, is remarkably healthy, and does not differ materially in temperature from Silchar, though it is more equable and humid.* [During our stay of five days the mean maximum temperature was 74 degrees, minimum 64.8 degrees: that of thirty-two observations compared with Calcutta show that Silhet is only 1.7 degrees cooler, though Mr. Stainforth's house is upwards of 2 degrees further north, and 160 feet more elevated. A thermometer sunk two feet seven inches, stood at 73.5 degrees. The relative saturation-points were, Calcutta .633, Silhet .821.] It derives some interest from having been first brought into notice by the enterprise of one of the Lindsays of Balcarres, at a time when the pioneers of commerce in India encountered great hardships and much personal danger. Mr. Lindsay, a writer in the service of the East India Company, established a factory at Silhet, and commenced the lime trade with Calcutta,* [For an account of the early settlement of Silhet, see "Lives of the Lindsays," by Lord Lindsay.] reaping an enormous fortune himself, and laying the foundation of that prosperity amongst the people which has been much advanced by the exertions of the Inglis family, and has steadily progressed under the protecting rule of the Indian government.

From Silhet we took large boats to navigate the Burrampooter and Megna, to their embouchure in the Bay of Bengal at Noacolly, a distance of 250 miles, whence we were to proceed across the head of the bay to Chittagong, about 100 miles farther. We left on the 7th of December, and arrived at Chattuc on the 9th, where we met our Khasia collectors with large loads of plants, and paid them off. The river was now low, and presented a busy scene, from the numerous trading boats being confined to its fewer and deeper channels. Long grasses and sedges (_Arundo, Saccharum_ and _Scleria_), were cut, and stacked along the water's edge, in huge brown piles, for export and thatching.

On the 13th December, we entered the broad stream of the Megna. Rice is cultivated along the mud flats left by the annual floods, and the banks are lower and less defined than in the Soormah, and support no long grasses or bushes. Enormous islets of living water-grasses (_Oplismenus stagninus_) and other plants, floated past, and birds became more numerous, especially martins and egrets. The sun was hot, but the weather otherwise cool and pleasant: the mean temperature was nearly that of Calcutta, 69.7 degrees, but the atmosphere was more humid.* [The river-water was greenish, and a little cooler (73.8 degrees) than that of the Soormah (74.3 degrees), which was brown and muddy. The barometer on the Soormah stood 0.028 inch higher than that of Calcutta (on the mean of thirty-eight observations), whereas on the Megna the pressure was 0.010 higher. As Calcutta is eighteen feet above the level of the Bay of Bengal, this shows that the Megna (which has no perceptible current) is at the level of the sea, and that either the Soormah is upwards of thirty feet above that level, or that the atmospheric pressure there, and at this season, is less than at Calcutta, which, as I have hinted at chapter xxvii, is probably the case.]

On the 14th we passed the Dacca river; below which the Megna is several miles wide, and there is an appearance of tide, from masses of purple _Salvinia_ (a floating plant, allied to ferns), being thrown up on the beach like sea-weed. Still lower down, the vegetation of the Sunderbunds commences; there is a narrow beach, and behind it a mud bank several feet high, supporting a luxuriant green jungle of palms (_Borassus_ and _Phoenix_), immense fig-trees, covered with _Calami,_ and tall betel-palms, clothed with the most elegant drapery of _Arostichum scandens,_ a climbing fern with pendulous fronds.

Towards the embouchure, the banks rise ten feet high, the river expands into a muddy sea, and a long swell rolls in, to the disquiet of our fresh-water boatmen. Low islands of sand and mud stretch along the horizon: which, together with the ships, distorted by extraordinary refraction, flicker as if seen through smoke. Mud is the all prevalent feature; and though the water is not salt, we do not observe in these broad deltas that amount of animal life (birds, fish, alligators, and porpoises), that teems in the narrow creeks of the western Sunderbunds.

We landed in a canal-like creek at Tuktacolly,* ["Colly" signifies a muddy creek, such as intersect the delta.] on the 17th, and walked to Noacolly, over a flat of hard mud or dried silt, covered with turf of _Cynodon Dactylon._ We were hospitably received by Dr. Baker, a gentleman who has resided here for twenty-three years; and who communicated to us much interesting information respecting the features of the Gangetic delta.

Noacolly is a station for collecting the revenue and preventing the manufacture of salt, which, with opium, are the only monopolies now in the hands of the East India Company. The salt itself is imported from Arracan, Ceylon, and even Europe, and is stored in great wooden buildings here and elsewhere. The ground being impregnated with salt, the illicit manufacture by evaporation is not easily checked; but whereas the average number of cases brought to justice used to be twenty and thirty in a week, they are now reduced to two or three. It is remarkable, that though the soil yields such an abundance of this mineral, the water of the Megna at Noacolly is only brackish, and it is therefore to repeated inundations and surface evaporations that the salt is due. Fresh water is found at a very few feet depth everywhere, but it is not good.

When it is considered how comparatively narrow the sea-board of the delta is, the amount of difference in the physical features of the several parts, will appear most extraordinary. I have stated that the difference between the northern and southern halves of the delta is so great, that, were all depressed and their contents fossilised, the geologist who examined each by itself, would hardly recognise the two parts as belonging to one epoch; and the difference between the east and west halves of the lower delta is equally remarkable.

The total breadth of the delta is 260 miles, from Chittagong to the mouth of the Hoogly, divided longitudinally by the Megna: all to the west of that river presents a luxuriant vegetation, while to the east is a bare muddy expanse, with no trees or shrubs but what are planted On the west coast the tides rise twelve or thirteen feet, on the east, from forty to eighty. On the west, the water is salt enough for mangroves to grow for fifty miles up the Hoogly; on the east, the sea coast is too fresh for that plant for ten miles south of Chittagong. On the west, fifty inches is the Cuttack fall of rain; on the east, 90 to 120 at Noacolly and Chittagong, and 200 at Arracan. The east coast is annually visited by earthquakes, which are rare on the west; and lastly, the majority of the great trees and shrubs carried down from the Cuttack and Orissa forests, and deposited on the west coast of the delta, are not only different in species, but in natural order, from those that the Fenny and Chittagong rivers bring down from the jungles.* [The Cuttack forests are composed of teak, Sal, Sissoo, ebony, _Pentaptera, Buchanania,_ and other trees of a dry soil, and that require a dry season alternating with a wet one. These are unknown in the Chittagong forests, which have Jarool (_Lagerstroemia_) _Mesua, Dipterocarpi,_ nutmegs, oaks of several kinds, and many other trees not known in the Cuttack forests, and all typical of a perennially humid atmosphere.]

We were glad to find at Noacolly that our observations on the progression westwards of the Burrampooter (see chapter xxvii) were confirmed by the fact that the Megna also is gradually moving in that direction, leaving much dry land on the Noacolly side, and forming islands opposite that coast; whilst it encroaches on the Sunderbunds, and is cutting away the islands in that direction. This advance of the fresh waters amongst the Sunderbunds is destructive to the vegetation of the latter, which requires salt; and if the Megna continues its slow course westwards, the obliteration of thousands of square miles of a very peculiar flora, and the extinction of many species of plants and animals that exist nowhere else, may ensue. In ordinary cases these plants, etc., would take up their abode on the east coast, as they were driven from the west; but such might not be the case in this delta; for the sweeping tides of the east coast prevent any such vegetation establishing itself there, and the mud which the eastern rivers carry down, becomes a caking dry soil, unsuited to the germination of seeds.

On our arrival at Calcutta in the following February, Dr. Falconer showed us specimens of very modern peat, dug out of the banks of the Hoogly a few feet below the surface of the soil, in which were seeds of the _Euryale ferox_:* [This peat Dr. Falconer also found to contain bones of birds and fish, seeds of _Cucumis Madraspatana_ and another Cucurbitaceous plant, leaves of _Saccharum Sara_ and _Ficus cordifolia._ Specks of some glistening substance were scattered through the mass, apparently incipient carbonisation of the peat.] this plant is not now known to be found nearer than Dacca (sixty miles north-east, see chapter xxvii), and indicates a very different state of the surface at Calcutta at the date of its deposition than that which exists now, and also shows that the estuary was then much fresher.

The main land of Noacolly is gradually extending seawards, and has advanced four miles within twenty-three years: this seems sufficiently accounted for by the recession of the Megna. The elevation of the surface of the land is caused by the overwhelming tides and south-west hurricanes in May and October: these extend thirty miles north and south of Chittagong, and carry the waters of the Megna and Fenny back over the land, in a series of tremendous waves, that cover islands of many hundred acres, and roll three miles on to the main land. On these occasions, the average earthy deposit of silt, separated by micaceous sand, is an eighth of an inch for every tide; but in October, 1848, these tides covered Sundeep island, deposited six inches on its level surface, and filled ditches several feet deep. These deposits become baked by a tropical sun, and resist to a considerable degree denudation by rain. Whether any further rise is caused by elevation from below is doubtful; there is no direct evidence of it, though slight earthquakes annually occur; and even when they have not been felt, the water of tanks has been seen to oscillate for three-quarters of an hour without intermission, from no discernible cause.* [The natives are familiar with this phenomenon, of which Dr. Baker remembers two instances, one in the cold season of 1834-5, the other in that of 1830-1. The earthquakes do not affect any particular month, nor are they accompanied by any meteorological phenomena.]

Noacolly is considered a healthy spot, which is not the case with the Sunderbund stations west of the Megna. The climate is uniformly hot, but the thermometer never rises above 90 degrees, nor sinks below 45 degrees; at this temperature hoar-frost will form on straw, and ice on water placed in porous pans, indicating a powerful radiation.* [The winds are north-west and north in the cold season (from November to March), drawing round to west in the afternoons. North-west winds and heavy hailstorms are frequent from March to May, when violent gales set in from the southward. The rains commence in June, with easterly and southerly winds, and the temperature from 82 degrees to 84 degrees; May and October are the hottest months. The rains cease in the end of October (on the 8th of November in 1849, and 12th of November in 1850, the latest epoch ever remembered): there is no land or sea breeze along any part of the coast. During our stay we found the mean temperature for twelve observations to be precisely that of Calcutta, but the humidity was more, and the pressure 0.040 1ower.] We left Noacolly on the 19th for Chittagong; the state of the tide obliging us to go on board in the night. The distance is only 100 miles, but the passage is considered dangerous at this time (during the spring-tides) and we were therefore provided with a large vessel and an experienced crew. The great object in this navigation is to keep afloat and to make progress towards the top of the tide and during its flood, and to ground during the ebb in creeks where the bore (tidal wave) is not violent; for where the channels are broad and open, the height and force of this wave rolls the largest coasting craft over and swamps them.

Our boatmen pushed out at 3 in the morning, and brought up at 5, in a narrow muddy creek on the island of Sidhee. The waters retired along channels scooped several fathoms deep in black mud, leaving our vessel aground six or seven feet below the top of the bank, and soon afterwards there was no water to be seen; as far as the eye could reach, all was a glistening oozy mud, except the bleak level surfaces of the islands, on which neither shrub nor tree grew. Soon after 2 p.m. a white line was seen on the low black horizon, which was the tide-wave, advancing at the rate of five miles an hour, with a hollow roar; it bore back the mud that was gradually slipping along the gentle slope, and we were afloat an hour after: at night we grounded again, opposite the mouth of the Fenny.

By moonlight the scene was oppressively solemn: on all sides the gurgling waters kept up a peculiar sound that filled the air with sullen murmurs; the moonbeams slept upon the slimy surface of the mud, and made the dismal landscape more ghastly still. Silence followed the ebb, broken occasionally by the wild whistle of a bird like the curlew, of which a few wheeled through the air: till the harsh roar of the bore was heard, to which the sailors seemed to waken by instinct. The waters then closed in on every side, and the far end of the reflected moonbeam was broken into flashing light, that approached and soon danced beside the boat.

We much regretted not being able to obtain any more accurate data than I have given, as to the height of the tide at the mouth of the Fenny; but where the ebb sometimes retires twenty miles from high-water mark, it is obviously impossible to plant any tide-gauge.

On the 21st we were ashore at daylight on the Chittagong coast far north of the station, and were greeted by the sight of hills on the horizon: we were lying fully twenty feet below high-water mark, and the tide was out for several miles to the westward. The bank was covered with flocks of white geese feeding on short grass, upon what appeared to be detached islets on the surface of the mud. These islets, which are often an acre in extent, are composed of stratified mud; they have perpendicular sides several feet high, and convex surfaces, owing to the tide washing away the earth from under their sides; and they were further slipping seawards, along the gently sloping mud-beach. Few or no shells or seaweed were to be seen, nor is it possible to imagine a more lifeless sea than these muddy coasts present.

We were three days and nights on this short voyage, without losing sight of mud or land. I observed the barometer whenever the boat was on the shore, and found the mean of six readings (all reduced to the same level) to be identical with that at Calcutta. These being all taken at elevations lower than that of the Calcutta observatory, show either a diminished atmospheric pressure, or that the mean level of high-water is not the same on the east and west coasts of the Bay of Bengal: this is quite possible, considering the widely different direction of the tides and currents on each, and that the waters may be banked up, as it were, in the narrow channels of the western Sunderbunds. The temperature of the air was the same as at Calcutta, but the atmosphere was damper. The water was always a degree warmer than the air.

We arrived at Chittagong on the 23rd of December, and became the guests of Mr. Sconce, Judge of the district, and of Mr. Lautour; to both of whom we were greatly indebted for their hospitality and generous assistance in every way.

Chittagong is a large town of Mahometans and Mugs, a Birmese tribe who inhabit many parts of the Malay peninsula, and the coast to the northward of it. The town stands on the north shore of an extensive delta, formed by rivers from the lofty mountains separating this district from Birma. These mountains are fine objects on the horizon, rising 4000 to 8000 feet; they are forest-clad, and inhabited by turbulent races, who are coterminous with the Cookies of the Cachar and Tipperah forests; if indeed they be not the same people. The mountains abound with the splendid timber-trees of the Cachar forests, but like these are said to want teak, Sal, and Sissoo; they have, besides many others,, magnificent Gurjun trees (_Dipterocarpi_), the monarchs of the forests of these coasts.

The natives of Chittagong are excellent shipbuilders and active traders, and export much rice and timber to Madras and Calcutta. The town is large and beautifully situated, interspersed with trees and tanks; the hills resemble those of Silhet, and are covered with a similar vegetation: on these the European houses are built. The climate is very healthy, which is not remarkable, considering how closely it approximates in character to that of Silhet and other places in Eastern Bengal, but very extraordinary, if it be compared with Arracan, only 200 miles further south, which is extremely unhealthy. The prominent difference between the physical features of Chittagong and Arracan, is the presence of mangrove swamps at the latter place, for which the water is too fresh at the former.

The hills about the station are not more than 150 or 200 feet high, and are formed of stratified gravel, sand, and clay, that often becomes nodular, and is interstratified with slag-like iron clay. Fossil wood is found; and some of the old buildings about Chittagong contain nummulitic limestone, probably imported from Silhet or the peninsula of India, with which countries there is no such trade now. The views are beautiful, of the blue mountains forty to fifty miles distant, and the many-armed river, covered with sails, winding amongst groves of cocoa-nuts, Areca palm, and yellow rice fields. Good European houses surmount all the eminences, surrounded by trees of _Acacia_ and _Caesalpinia._ In the hollows are native huts amidst vegetation of every hue, glossy green _Garciniae_ and figs, broad plantains, feathery _Cassia_ and Acacias, dark _Mesua_, red-purple _Terminalia,_ leafless scarlet-flowered _Bombax,_ and grey _Casuarina._* [This, which is almost exclusively an Australian genus, is not indigenous at Chittagong: to it belongs an extra-Australian species common in the Malay islands, and found wild as far north as Arracan.] Seaward the tide leaves immense flats, called churs, which stretch for many miles on either side the offing.

We accompanied Mr. Sconce to a bungalow which he has built at the telegraph station at the south head of the harbour: its situation, on a hill 100 feet above the sea, is exposed, and at this season the sea-breeze was invigorating, and even cold, as it blew through the mat-walls of the bungalow.* [The mean temperature of the two days (29th and 30th) we spent at this bungalow was 66.5 degrees, that of Calcutta being 67.6 degrees; the air was damp, and the barometer 0.144 lower at the flagstaff hill, but it fell and rose with the Calcutta instrument.] To the south, undulating dunes stretch along the coast, covered with low bushes, of which a red-flowered _Melastoma_ is the most prevalent,* [_Melastoma,_ jasmine, _Calamus, AEgle Marmelos, Adelia, Memecylon, Ixora, Limostoma, Congea,_ climbing _Coesalpinia,_ and many other plants; and along their bases large trees of _Amoora, Gaurea,_ figs, _Mesua,_ and _Micromelon._] and is considered a species of _Rhododendron_ by many of the residents! The flats along the beach are several miles broad, intersected with tidal creeks, and covered with short grass, while below high-water mark all is mud, coated with green _Conferva._ There are no leafy seaweeds or mangroves, nor any seaside shrub but _Dilivaria ilicifolia._ Animal life is extremely rare; and a _Cardium_-like shell and small crab are found sparingly.

Coffee has been cultivated at Chittagong with great success; it is said to have been introduced by Sir W. Jones, and Mr. Sconce has a small plantation, from which his table is well supplied. Both Assam and Chinese teas flourish, but Chinamen are wanted to cure the leaves. Black pepper succeeds admirably, as do cinnamon, arrowroot, and ginger.

Early in January we accompanied Mr. Lautour on an excursion to the north, following a valley separated from the coast by a range of wooded hills, 1000 feet high. For several marches the bottom of this valley was broad, flat, and full of villages. At Sidhee, about twenty-five miles from Chittagong, it contracts, and spurs from the hills on either flank project into the middle: they are 200 to 300 feet high, formed of red clay, and covered with brushwood. At Kajee-ke-hath, the most northern point we reached, we were quite amongst these hills, and in an extremely picturesque country, intersected by long winding flat valleys, that join one another: some are full of copsewood, while others present the most beautiful park-like scenery, and a third class expand into grassy marshes or lake-beds, with wooded islets rising out of them. The hillsides are clothed with low jungle, above which tower magnificent Gurjun trees (wood-oil). The whole contour of this country is that of a low bay, whose coast is raised above the sea, and over which a high tide once swept for ages.

The elevation of Hazari-ke-hath is not 100 feet above the level of the sea. It is about ten miles west of the mouth of the Fenny, from which it is separated by hills 1000 feet high; its river falls into that at Chittagong, thirty miles south. Large myrtaceous trees (_Eugenia_) are common, and show a tendency to the Malayan flora, which is further demonstrated by the abundance of Gurjun (_Dipterocarpus turbinatus_). This is the most superb tree we met with in the Indian forests: we saw several species, but this is the only common one here; it is conspicuous for its gigantic size, and for the straightness and graceful form of its tall unbranched pale grey trunk, and small symmetrical crown: many individuals were upwards of 200 feet high, and fifteen in girth. Its leaves are broad, glossy, and beautiful; the flowers (then falling) are not conspicuous; the wood is hard, close-grained, and durable, and a fragrant oil exudes from the trunk, which is extremely valuable as pitch and varnish, etc., besides being a good medicine. The natives procure it by cutting transverse holes in the trunk, pointing downwards, and lighting fires in them, which causes the oil to flow.* [The other trees of these dry forests are many oaks, _Henslowia, Gordonia, Engelhardtia, Duabanga, Adelia, Byttneria, Bradleia,_ and large trees of _Pongamia,_ whose seeds yield a useful oil.]

Illustration--GURJUN TREE.

On the 8th of January we experienced a sharp earthquake, preceded by a dull thumping sound; it lasted about twenty seconds, and seemed to come up from the southward; the water of a tank by which we were seated was smartly agitated. The same shock was felt at Mymensing and at Dacca, 110 miles north-west of this.* [Earthquakes are extremely common, and sometimes violent, at Chittagong, and doubtless belong to the volcanic forces of the Malayan peninsula.]

We crossed the dividing ridge of the littoral range on the 9th, and descended to Seetakoond bungalow, on the high road from Chittagong to Comilla. The forests at the foot of the range were very extensive, and swarmed with large red ants that proved very irritating: they build immense pendulous nests of dead and living leaves at the ends of the branches of trees, and mat them with a white web. Tigers, leopards, wild dogs, and boars, are numerous; as are snipes, pheasants, peacocks, and jungle-fowl, the latter waking the morn with their shrill crows; and in strange association with them, common English woodcock, is occasionally found.

The trees are of little value, except the Gurjun, and "Kistooma," a species of _Bradleia,_ which was stacked extensively, being used for building purposes. The papaw* [The Papaw tree is said to have the curious property of rendering tough meat tender, when hung under its leaves, or touched with the juice; this hastening the process of decay. With this fact, well-known in the West Indies, I never found a person in the East acquainted.] is abundantly cultivated, and its great gourd-like fruit is eaten (called "Papita" or "Chinaman"); the flavour is that of a bad melon, and a white juice exudes from the rind. The _Hodgsonia heteroclita_ (_Trichosanthes_ of Roxburgh), a magnificent Cucurbitaceous climber, grows in these forests; it is the same species as the Sikkim one (see chapter xviii). The long stem bleeds copiously when cut, and like almost all woody climbers, is full of large vessels; the juice does not, however, exude from these great tubes, which hold air, but from the close woody fibres. A climbing _Apocyneous_ plant grows in these forests, the milk of which flows in a continuous stream, resembling caoutchouc (it is probably the _Urceola elastica,_ which yields Indian-rubber).

The subject of bleeding is involved in great obscurity, and the systematic examination of the motions in the juices of tropical climbers by resident observers, offers a fertile field to the naturalist. I have often remarked that if a climbing stem, in which the circulation is vigorous, be cut across, it bleeds freely from both ends, and most copiously from the lower, if it be turned downwards; but that if a truncheon be severed, there will be no flow from either of its extremities. This is the case with all the Indian watery-juiced climbers, at whatever season they may be cut. When, however, the circulation in the plant is feeble, neither end of a simple cut will bleed much, but if a truncheon be taken from it, both the extremities will.

The ascent of the hills, which are densely wooded, was along spurs, and over knolls of clay; the rocks were sandy and slaty (dip north-east 60 degrees. The road was good, but always through bamboo jungle, and it wound amongst the low spurs, so that there was no defined crest or top of the pass, which is about 800 feet high. There were no tall palms, tree-ferns, or plantains, no _Hymenophylla_ or _Lycopodia,_ and altogether the forest was smaller and poorer in plants than we had expected. The only palms (except a few rattans) were two kinds of _Wallichia._

From the summit we obtained a very extensive and singular view. At our feet was a broad, low, grassy, alluvial plain, intersected by creeks, bounding a black expanse of mud which (the tide being out) appeared to stretch almost continuously to Sundeep Island, thirty miles distant; while beyond, the blue hills of Tipperah rose on the north-west horizon. The rocks yielded a dry poor soil, on which grew dwarf _Phoenix_ and cycas-palm (_Cycas circinalis_ or _pectinata_).

Descending, we rode several miles along an excellent road, that runs to Tipperah, and stopped at the bungalow of Seetakoond, twenty-five miles north of Chittagong. The west flank of the range which we had crossed is much steeper than the east, often precipitous, and presents the appearance of a sea-worn cliff towards the Bay of Bengal. Near Seetakoond (which is on the plain) a hill on the range, bearing the same name, rises 1,136 feet high, and being damper and more luxuriantly wooded, we were anxious to explore it, and therefore spent some days at the bungalow. Fields of poppy and sun (_Crotalaria juncea_), formed most beautiful crops; the latter grows from four to six feet high, and bears masses of laburnum-like flowers, while the poppy fields resembled a carpet of dark-green velvet, sprinkled with white stars; or, as I have elsewhere remarked, a green lake studded with water-lilies.

The road to the top of Seetakoond leads along a most beautiful valley, and then winds up a cliff that is in many places almost precipitous, the ascent being partly by steps cut in the rock, of which there are 560. The mountain is very sacred, and there is a large Brahmin temple on its flank; and near the base a perpetual flame bursts out of the rock. This we were anxious to examine, and were extremely disappointed to find it a small vertical hole in a slaty rock, with a lateral one below for a draught; and that it is daily supplied by pious pilgrims and Brahmins with such enormous quantities of ghee (liquid butter), that it is to all intents and purposes an artificial lamp; no trace of natural phenomena being discoverable.

Illustration--SEETAKUND HILL.

On the dry but wooded west face of the mountain, grows _Falconeria,_ a curious Euphorbiaceous tree, with an acrid milky juice that affects the eyes when the wood is cut. Beautiful _Cycas_ palms are also common, with _Terminalia, Bignonia, Sterculia,_ dwarf _Phoenix_ palm, and Gurjun trees. The east slope of the mountain is damper, and much more densely wooded; we there found two wild species of nutmeg trees, whose wood is full of a brown acrid oil, seven palms, tree-ferns, and many other kinds of ferns, several kinds of oak, _Dracaena,_ and figs. The top is 1,136 feet above the sea, and commands an extensive view to all points of the compass; but the forests, in which the ashy bark of the Gurjun trees is conspicuous, and the beautiful valley on the west, are the only attractive features.

The weather on the east side of the range differs at this season remarkably from that on the west, where the vicinity of the sea keeps the atmosphere more humid and warm, and at the same time prevents the formation of the dense fogs that hang over the valleys to the eastward every morning at sunrise. We found the mean temperature at the bungalow, from January 9th till the 13th, to be 70.2 degrees.

We embarked again at Chittagong on the 16th of January, at 10 p.m., for Calcutta, in a very large vessel, rowed by twelve men: we made wretchedly slow progress, for the reasons mentioned earlier, being for four days within sight of Chittagong! On the 20th we only reached Sidhee, and thence made a stretch to Hattiah, an island which may be said to be moving bodily to the westward, the Megna annually cutting many acres from the east side; and the tide-wave depositing mud on the west. The surface is flat, and raised four feet above mean high-water level; the tide rises about 14 feet up the bank, and then retires for miles; the total rise and fall is, however, much less here than in the Fenny, higher up the gulf. The turf is composed of _Cynodon_ and a _Fimbristylis_; and the earth being impregnated with salt, supports different kinds of _Chenopodium._ Two kinds of tamarisk, and a thorny _Cassia_ and _Exoecaria,_ are the only shrubs on the eastern islands; on the central ones a few dwarf mangroves appear, with the holly-leaved _Dilivaria,_ dwarf screw-pine (_Pandanus_), a shrub of _Compositae,_ and a curious fern, a variety of _Aristichum aureum._ Towards the northern end of Hattiah, Talipot, cocoa-nut and date-palms appear.

On the 22nd we entered the Sunderbunds, rowing amongst narrow channels, where the tide rises but a few feet. The banks were covered with a luxuriant vegetation, chiefly of small trees, above which rose stately palms. On the 25th, we were overtaken by a steamer from Assam, a novel sight to us, and a very strange one in these creeks, which in some places seemed hardly broad enough for it to pass through. We jumped on board in haste, leaving our boat and luggage to follow us. She had left Dacca two days before, and this being the dry season, the route to Calcutta, which is but sixty miles in a straight line, involved a detour of three hundred.

From the masts of the steamer we obtained an excellent _coup-d'oeil_ of the Sunderbunds; its swamps clothed with verdure, and intersected by innumerable inosculating channels, with banks a foot or so high. The amount of tide, which never exceeds ten feet, diminishes in proceeding westwards into the heart of these swamps, and the epoch, direction, and duration of the ebb and flow vary so much in every canal, that at times, after stemming a powerful current, we found ourselves, without materially changing our course, suddenly swept along with a favouring stream. This is owing to the complex ramifications of the creeks, the flow of whose waters is materially influenced by the most trifling accidents of direction.

Receding from the Megna, the water became saltier, and _Nipa fruticans_ appeared, throwing up pale yellow-green tufts of feathery leaves, from a short thick creeping stem, and bearing at the base of the leaves its great head of nuts, of which millions were floating on the waters, and vegetating in the mud. Marks of tigers were very frequent, and the footprints of deer, wild boars, and enormous crocodiles: these reptiles were extremely common, and glided down the mud banks on the approach of the steamer, leaving between the footmarks a deep groove in the mud made by their tail. The _Phoenix paludosa,_ a dwarf slender-stemmed date-palm, from six to eight feet high, is the all-prevalent feature, covering the whole landscape with a carpet of feathery fronds of the liveliest green. The species is eminently gregarious, more so than any other Indian palm, and presents so dense a mass of foliage, that when seen from above, the stems are wholly hidden.* [_Sonneratia, Heritiera littoralis,_ and _Careya,_ form small gnarled trees on the banks, with deep shining green-leaved species of _Carallia Rhizophora,_ and other Mangroves. Occasionally the gigantic reed-mace (_Typha elephantina_) is seen, and tufts of tall reeds (_Arundo_).]

The water is very turbid, and only ten to twenty feet deep, which, we were assured by the captain, was not increased during the rains: it is loaded with vegetable matter, but the banks are always muddy, and we never saw any peat. Dense fogs prevented our progress in the morning, and we always anchored at dusk. We did not see a village or house in the heart of the Sunderbunds (though such do occur), but we saw canoes, with fishermen, who use the tame otter in fishing; and the banks were covered with piles of firewood, stacked for the Calcutta market. As we approached the Hoogly, the water became very salt and clear; the Nipa fruits were still most abundant, floating out to sea, but no more of the plant itself was seen. As the channels became broader, sand-flats appeared, with old salt factories, and clumps of planted _Casuarina._

On the 28th of January we passed Saugor island, and entered the Hoogly, steamed past Diamond Harbour, and landed at the Botanic Garden Ghat, where we received a hearty welcome from Dr. Falconer. Ten days later we bade farewell to India, reaching England on the 25th of March, 1851.

APPENDIX. A.

METEOROLOGICAL OBSERVATIONS IN BEHAR, AND IN THE VALLEYS OF THE SOANE AND GANGES.

Most of the instruments which I employed were constructed by Mr. Newman, and with considerable care: they were in general accurate, and always extremely well guarded, and put up in the most portable form, and that least likely to incur damage; they were further frequently carefully compared by myself. These are points to which too little attention is paid by makers and by travellers in selecting instruments and their cases. This remark applies particularly to portable barometers, of which I had five at various times. Although there are obvious defects in the system of adjustment, and in the method of obtaining the temperature of the mercury, I found that these instruments invariably worked well, and were less liable to derangement and fracture than any I ever used; the best proof I can give of this is that I preserved three uninjured during nearly all my excursions, left two in India, and brought a third home myself that had accompanied me almost throughout my journey.

In very dry climates these and all other barometers are apt to leak, from the contraction of the box-wood plug through which the tube passes into the cistern. This must, in portable barometers, in very dry weather, be kept moist with a sponge. A small iron bottle of pure mercury to supply leakage should be supplied with every barometer, as also a turnscrew. The vernier plate and scale should be screwed, not soldered on the metal sheath, as if an escape occurs in the barometer-case the solder is acted upon at once. A table of corrections for capacity and capillarity should accompany every instrument, and simple directions, etc., in cases of trifling derangement, and alteration of neutral point.

The observations for temperature were taken with every precaution to avoid radiation, and the thermometers were constantly compared with a standard, and the errors allowed for. The maximum thermometer with a steel index, I found to be extremely liable to derangement and very difficult to re-adjust. Negretti's maximum thermometer was not known to me during my journey. The spirit minimum thermometers again, are easily set to rights when out of order, but in every one (of six or seven) which I took to India, by several makers, the zero point receded, the error in some increasing annually, even to -6 degrees in two years. This seems due to a vaporisation of the spirit within the tube. I have seen a thermometer of this description in India, of which the spirit seemed to have retired wholly into the bulb, and which I was assured had never been injured. In wet-bulb observations, distilled water or rain, or snow water was used, but I never found the result to differ from that obtained by any running fresh water, except such as was polluted to the taste and eye.

The hours of observation selected were at first sunrise, 9 a.m., 3 p.m., sunset, and 9 p.m., according to the instructions issued to the Antarctic expedition by the Royal Society. In Sikkim, however, I generally adopted the hours appointed at the Surveyor General's office, Calcutta; viz., sunrise, 9h. 50m. a.m., noon, 2h. 40m. p.m., 4 p.m., and sunset, to which I added a 10 p.m. observation, besides many at intermediate hours as often as possible. Of these the 9h. 50m. a.m. and 4 p.m. have been experimentally proved to be those of the maximum and minimum of atmospheric pressure at the level of the sea in India, and I did not find any great or marked deviation from this at any height to which I attained, though at 15,000 or 16,000 feet the morning maximum may occur rather earlier.

The observations for nocturnal (terrestrial) radiation were made by freely suspending thermometers with naked bulbs, or by laying them on white cotton, wool, or flannel; also by means of a thermometer placed in the focus of a silvered parabolic reflector. I did not find that the reflector possessed any decided advantage over the white cotton: the means of a number of observations taken by each approximated closely, but the difference between individual observations often amounted to 2 degrees.

Observations again indicative of the radiation from grass, whether dewed or dry, are not strictly comparable; not only does the power of radiation vary with the species, but much more with the luxuriance and length of the blades, with the situation, whether on a plane surface or raised, and with the subjacent soil. Of the great effect of the soil I had frequent instances; similar tufts of the same species of grass radiating more powerfully on the dry sandy bed of the Soane, than on the alluvium on its banks; the exposure being equal in both instances. Experiments for the surface-temperature of the soil itself, are least satisfactory of any:--adjoining localities being no less affected by the nature, than by the state of disintegration of the surface, and by the amount of vegetation in proximity to the instrument.

The power of the sun's rays in India is so considerable, and protracted through so long a period of the day, that I did not find the temperature of springs, or of running water, even of large deep rivers, so constant as was to be expected.

The temperature of the earth was taken by sinking a brass tube a yard long in the soil.

A thermometer with the bulb blackened affords the only means the traveller can generally compass, of measuring the power of the sun's rays. It should be screened or put in a blackened box, or laid on black wool.

A good Photometer being still a desideratum, I had recourse to the old wedge of coloured glass, of an uniform neutral tint, the distance between whose extremes, or between transparency and total opacity, was one foot. A moveable arm carrying a brass plate with a slit and a vernier, enables the observer to read off at the vanishing point of the sun's limb, to one five-hundredth of an inch. I generally took the mean of five readings as one, and the mean of five of these again I regarded as one observation; but I place little dependence upon the results. The causes of error are quite obvious. As far as the effects of the sun's light on vegetation are concerned, I am inclined to think that it is of more importance to register the number of hours or rather of parts of each hour, that the sun shines, and its clearness during the time. To secure valuable results this should be done repeatedly, and the strength of the rays by the black-bulb thermometer registered at each hour. The few actinometer observations will be found in another part of the Appendix.

The dew-point has been calculated from the wet-bulb, by Dr. Apjohn's formula, or, where the depression of the barometer is considerable, by that as modified by Colonel Boileau.* [Journal of Asiatic Society, No. 147 (1844), p.135.] The saturation-point was obtained by dividing the tension at the dew-point by that at the ordinary temperature, and the weight of vapour, by Daniell's formula.

The following summary of meteorological observations is alluded to at vol. i., chapter i.

I.--_Table-land of Birbhoom and Behar, from Taldanga to Dunwah. Average elevation 1,135 feet._

It is evident from these observations, that compared with Calcutta, the dryness of the atmosphere is the most remarkable feature of this table-land, the temperature not being high; and to this, combined with the sterility of the soil over a great part of the surface, must be attributed the want of a vigorous vegetation. Though so favourably exposed to the influence of nocturnal radiation, the amount of the latter is small. The maximum depression of a thermometer laid on grass never exceeded 10 degrees, and averaged 7 degrees; whereas the average depression of the dew-point at the same hour amounted to 25 degrees in the morning. Of course no dew was deposited even in the clearest star-light night.

February 1848.

Hour Sunrise 9 a.m. 3 p.m. 9 p.m. TEMPERATURE Mean 56.6 70.1 75.5 61.7 Max. 65.2 77.0 81.7 66.2 Min. 46.3 61.2 65.2 55.5 Range 18.9 15.8 16.5 10.7 WET-BULB Mean 48.2 53.7 55.3 49.3 Max. Depression 12.5 19.3 22.5 20.5 Min. Depression 6.0 14.3 16.7 9.0

Elasticity of Vapour .276 .264 .248 .248

DEW-POINT Mean 39.5 37.9 36.0 36.1 Max. 52.0 52.7 46.8 50.0 Min. 23.3 24.5 24.3 *9.1 Max. Depression 31.7 39.2 48.4 56.9 Min. Depression 10.4 24.3 34.9 16.2

Weight of Vapour in cubic feet 3.088 2.875 2.674 2.745

SATURATION Mean .550 .330 .260 .410 Max. .680 .450 .320 .590 Min. .330 .260 .190 .140

Number of observations 7 7 7 10

Extreme variations of Temperature 35.4 degrees Extreme variations of relative humidity .540 Extreme diff. Solar and Nocturnal Radiation 96.5 degrees

*Taken during a violent N.W. dustt-storm.

SOLAR RADIATION

MORNING Hour Th. Black Bulb Diff. Phot. 9.30 a.m. 77.0 130 53.0 ... 10 a.m. 69.5 124 54.5 10.320 10 a.m. 77.0 137 60.0 ... 9 a.m. 63.5 94 30.5 10.230 9 a.m. 61.2 106 44.8 ... 9 a.m. 67.0 114 47.0 10.350 --------------------------------------------------- Mean 69.2 117.5 48.1 10.300

AFTERNOON Hour Th. Black Bulb Diff. Phot. 3.30 p.m. 81.7 109 27.3 ... 3 p.m. 80.5 120 39.5 10.320 3 p.m. 81.5 127 45.5 10.330 3.30 p.m. 72.7 105 32.3 10.230 3 p.m. 72.5 110 37.5 10.390 --------------------------------------------------- Mean 77.8 114.2 36.4 10.318

NOCTURNAL RADIATION

SUNRISE Exposed Th. On Earth On Grass Temperature 51.1 48.3 46.6 Mean Diff. from Air 4.0 2.5 6.2 Max. Diff. from Air 9.0 3.7 9.0 Number of Observations 6 3 5

NINE P.M. Exposed Th. On Earth On Grass Temperature 56.4 53.8 54.4 Mean Diff. from Air 5.3 4.9 7.2 Max. Diff. from Air 7.5 5.5 10.0 Number of Observations 7 6 7

On one occasion, and that at night, the dew-point was as low as 11.5 degrees, with a temperature of 66 degrees, a depression rarely equalled at so low a temperature: this phenomenon was transient, and caused by the passage of a current of air loaded with dust, whose particles possibly absorbed the atmospheric humidity. From a comparison of the night and morning observations of thermometers laid on grass, the earth, and freely exposed, it appears that the grass parts with its heat much more rapidly than the earth, but that still the effect of radiation is slight, lowering its temperature but 2 degrees below that of the freely exposed thermometer.

As compared with the climate of Calcutta, these hills present a remarkable contrast, considering their proximity in position and moderate elevation.

The difference of temperature between Calcutta and Birbhoom, deduced from the sunrise, morning and afternoon observations, amounts to 4 degrees, which, if the mean height of the hills where crossed by the road, be called 1,135 feet, will be equal to a fall of one degree for every 288 feet.

In the dampness of its atmosphere, Calcutta contrasts very remarkably with these hills; the dew-point on the Hoogly averaging 51.3 degrees, and on these hills 38 degrees, the corresponding saturation-points being 0.559 and 0.380.

The difference between sunrise, forenoon and afternoon dew-points at Calcutta and on the hills, is 13.6 degrees at each observation; but the atmosphere at Calcutta is relatively drier in the afternoon than that of the hills; the difference between the Calcutta sunrise and afternoon saturation-point being 0.449, and that between the hill sunrise and afternoon, 0.190. The march of the dew-point is thus the same in both instances, but owing to the much higher temperature of Calcutta, and the greatly increased tension of the vapour there, the relative humidity varies greatly during the day.

In other words, the atmosphere of Calcutta is loaded with moisture in the early morning of this season, and is relatively dry in the afternoon: in the hills again, it is scarcely more humid at sunrise than at 3 p.m. That this dryness of the hills is partly due to elevation, appears from the disproportionately moister state of the atmosphere below the Dunwah pass.

II. _Abstract of the Meteorological observations taken in the Soane Valley (mean elevation 422 feet)._

The difference in mean temperature (partly owing to the sun's more northerly declination) amounts to 2.5 degrees of increase in the Soane valley, above that of the hills. The range of the thermometer from day to day was considerably greater on the hills (though fewer observations were there recorded): it amounted to 17.2 degrees on the hills, and only 12.8 degrees in the valley. The range from the maximum to the minimum of each day amounts to the same in both, above 20 degrees. The extreme variations in temperature too coincide within 1.4 degrees.

The hygrometric state of the atmosphere of the valley differs most decidedly from that of the hills. In the valley dew is constantly formed, which is owing to the amount of moisture in the air, for nocturnal radiation is more powerful on the hills. The sunrise and 9 p.m. observations in the valley, give a mean depression of the dew-point below the air of 12.3 degrees, and those at the upper level of 21.2 degrees, with no dew on the hills and a copious deposit in the valley. The corresponding state of the atmosphere as to saturation is 0.480 on the hills and 0.626 in the valley.

The vegetation of the Soane valley is exposed to a less extreme temperature than that of the hills; the difference between solar and nocturnal radiation amounting here only to 80.5 degrees, and on the hills to 96.5 degrees. There is no material difference in the power of the sun's rays at the upper and lower levels, as expressed by the blackbulb thermometer, the average rise of which above one placed in the shade, amounted to 48 degrees in both cases, and the maximum occurred about 11 a.m. The decrease of the power of the sun's rays in the afternoon is much the most rapid in the valley, coinciding with a greater reduction of the elasticity of vapour and of humidity in the atmosphere.

The photometer observations show a greater degree of sun's light on the hills than below, but there is not at either station a decided relation between the indications of this instrument and the black-bulb thermometer. From observations taken elsewhere, I am inclined to attribute the excess of solar light on the hills to their elevation; for at a far greater elevation I have met with much stronger solar light, in a very damp atmosphere, than I ever experienced in the drier plains of India. In a damp climate the greatest intensity may be expected in the forenoon, when the vapour is diffused near the earth's surface; in the afternoon the lower strata of atmosphere are drier, but the vapour is condensed into clouds aloft which more effectually obstruct the sun's rays. On the Birbhoom and Behar hills, where the amount of vapour is so small that the afternoon is but little drier than the forenoon, there is little difference between the solar light at each time. In the Soane valley again, where a great deal of humidity is removed from the earth's surface and suspended aloft, the obstruction of the sun's light is very marked.

DUNWAH TO SOANE RIVER, AND UP SOANE TO TURA, FEBRUARY 10-19TH.

Hour Sunrise 9 a.m. 3 p.m. 9 p.m. TEMPERATURE Mean 57.6 74.0 77.6 64.5 Max. 62.0 81.0 87.5 68.7 Min. 53.5 63.5 71.0 60.0 Range 8.5 17.5 16.5 8.7 WET-BULB Mean 51.7 59.5 59.9 55.5 Max. Depression 8.5 18.5 26.0 12.5 Min. Depression 3.8 4.0 6.8 2.5

Elasticity of Vapour .352 .382 .357 .370

DEW-POINT Mean 46.1 48.5 46.4 47.5 Max. 53.6 56.7 60.0 55.6 Min. 40.6 38.0 36.0 41.0 Max. Depression 16.9 33.5 44.2 24.1 Min. Depression 7.0 6.8 11.0 4.4

Weight of Vapour in cubic feet 3.930 4.066 3.658 4.014

SATURATION Mean .680 .460 .352 .572 Max. .787 .818 .703 .860 Min. .566 .338 .237 .452

Number of observations 10 8 9 10

Extreme variations of Temperature 34.0 degrees Extreme variations of relative humidity .623 Extreme diff. Solar and Nocturnal Radiation 80.5 degrees

NOCTURNAL RADIATION

SUNRISE Exposed Th. On Earth On Grass Temperature 53.2 54.0 51.5 Mean Diff. from Air 4.5 3.7 6.2 Max. Diff. from Air 8.5 9.0 7.5 Number of Observations 9 9 8

NINE P.M. Exposed Th. On Earth On Grass Temperature 59.9 60.7 56.4 Mean Diff. from Air 4.6 3.8 8.1 Max. Diff. from Air 11.5 10.5 13.5 Number of Observations 10 10 10

SOLAR RADIATION

MORNING Time Temp. Black Bulb Diff. Phot. 9 a.m. 70.0 125 55.0 10.300 11 a.m. 81.0 119 38.0 10.230 10.30 a.m. 71.5 126 54.5 10.300 10 a.m. 72.0 117 45.0 10.220 10 a.m. 80.0 122 42.0 ... 10.30 a.m. 78.0 128 50.0 ... ---------------------------------------------------- Mean 75.4 122.8 47.4 10.262

AFTERNOON Time Temp. Black Bulb Diff. Phot. 4 p.m. 76.5 90 13.5 ... 3 p.m. 80.0 105 25.0 10.210 3 p.m. 76.0 102 26.0 10.170 3 p.m. 87.5 126 38.5 ... ---------------------------------------------------- Mean 80.0 105.7 25.7 10.190

NOCTURNAL RADIATION FROM PLANTS

SUNRISE Air Temp. 59.5 55.0 Calotropis ... 49.5 Diff. ... 5.5 Argemone 57.0 47.0 Diff. 2.5 8.0

NINE P.M. Temp. 67.5 67.0 64.3 Calotropis ... ... 58.5 Diff. ... ... 5.8 Argemone 53.0 56.0 57.0 Diff. 14.0 11.0 7.3

III. VALLEY OF SOANE RIVER, TURA TO SULKUN (MEAN ELEV. 517 FEET), FEBRUARY 20TH TO MARCH 3RD.

Hour Sunrise 9 a.m. 3 p.m. 9 p.m. TEMPERATURE Mean 56.8 82.0 88.6 68.0 Max. 70.0 89.0 94.7 74.0 Min. 50.0 69.0 81.5 61.0 Range 20.0 20.0 43.2 13.0 WET-BULB Mean 52.5 61.2 62.4 56.8 Max. Depression 10.0 24.3 30.2 15.0 Min. Depression 1.5 12.0 14.5 6.0

Elasticity of Vapour .380 .385 .289 .369

DEW-POINT Mean 48.3 48.7 40.8 47.4 Max. 53.1 60.2 50.9 51.8 Min. 41.1 40.3 32.3 42.6 Max. Depression 17.3 45.2 57.2 27.1 Min. Depression 5.4 22.0 25.1 10.2

Weight of Vapour in cubic feet 4.240 4.097 2.975 3.933

SATURATION Mean .754 .342 .211 .511 Max. .831 .488 .598 .703 Min. .570 .226 .154 .415

Number of observations 12 11 11 11

Extreme variations of Temperature 44.7 degrees Extreme variations of relative humidity .677 Extreme diff. Solar and Nocturnal Radiation 100 degrees

NOCTURNAL RADIATION

SUNRISE Exposed Th. On Earth On Grass Temperature 51.7 52.4 48.8 Mean Diff. from Air 4.1 3.4 7.0 Max. Diff. from Air 8.0 7.0 11.5 Number of Observations 9 9 9

NINE P.M. Exposed Th. On Earth On Grass Temperature 61.2 64.3 55.8 Mean Diff. from Air 6.8 4.6 11.8 Max. Diff. from Air 10.5 8.5 17.0 Number of Observations 10 9 9

SOLAR RADIATION

MORNING Time Temp. Black Bulb Diff. Phot. 11.30 a.m. 85.5 129 44.5 ... 10.30 a.m. 89.0 132 43.0 ... Noon 90.0 132 42.0 10.140 Noon 85.0 130 45.0 ... Noon 86.0 138 52.0 ... Noon 90.0 138 48.0 ... ---------------------------------------------------- Mean 87.6 133 45.8 10.140

AFTERNOON Time Temp. Black Bulb Diff. Phot. 3 p.m. 85.5 116 30.5 ... 3 p.m. 92.5 128 35.5 ... 3 p.m. 92.0 120 28.0 ... 3 p.m. 89.5 128 38.5 ... 3 p.m. 93.5 144 50.5 ... ---------------------------------------------------- Mean 90.6 127 36.6 ...

NOCTURNAL RADIATION FROM PLANTS

SUNRISE Mean Air Temp. 61.0 57.0 57.0 58.5 57.0 50.0 50.5 56.0 55.9 Barley 56 46 52 52 52 45 43 ... 49.4 Diff. 5.0 11.0 5.0 6.5 5.0 5.0 7.5 ... 6.4 Calotropis 56.5 48.0 ... ... ... 45.5 ... ... 50.0 Diff. 4.5 9.0 ... ... ... 4.5 ... ... 6.0 Argemone 57.0 50.0 50.0 ... ... ... ... 49.0 51.5 Diff. 4.0 7.0 7.0 ... ... ... ... 7.0 6.2

NINE P.M. Mean Air Temp. 68.5 70.0 69.0 74.0 62.5 67.5 61.0 ... 67.5 Barley ... ... ... ... 51.5 67.5 50.0 ... 56.3 Diff. ... ... ... ... 11.0 10.0 11.0 ... 10.7 Calotropis ... 65.0 57.0 59.0 ... 62.5 ... ... 60.9 Diff. ... 5.0 12.0 15.0 ... 5.0 ... ... 9.3 Argemone 56.0 67.0 57.0 ... ... ... ... ... 60.0 Diff. 12.5 3.0 12.0 ... ... ... ... ... 9.2

The upper course of the Soane being in some places confined, and exposed to furious gusts from the gullies of the Kymore hills, and at others expanding into a broad and flat valley, presents many fluctuations of temperature. The mean temperature is much above that of the lower parts of the same valley (below Tura), the excess amounting to 5.4 degrees. The nights and mornings are cooler, by 1.2 degrees, the days hotter by 10 degrees. There were also 10 degrees increase of range during the thirteen days spent there; and the mean range from day to day was nearly as great as it was on the hills of Bengal.

There being much exposed rock, and the valley being swept by violent dust-storms, the atmosphere is drier, the mean saturation point being .454, whereas in the lower part of the Soane's course it was .516.

A remarkable uniformity prevails in the depression of thermometers exposed to nocturnal radiation, whether laid on the earth, grass, or freely exposed; both the mean and maximum indication coincide very nearly with those of the lower Soane valley and of the hills. The temperature of tufts of green barley laid on the ground is one degree higher than that of short grass; _Argemone_ and _Calotropis_ leaves maintain a still warmer temperature; from the previous experiments the _Argemone_ appeared to be considerably the cooler, which I was inclined to attribute to the smoother and more shining surface of its leaf, but from these there would seem to be no sensible difference between the radiating powers of the two plants.

IV. TABLE-LAND OF KYMORE HILLS (MEAN ELEV. 979 FEET), MARCH 3RD TO 8TH, 1848.

Hour Sunrise 9 a.m. 3 p.m. 9 p.m. TEMPERATURE Mean 65.3 81.6 88.1 71.1 Max. 69.0 82.5 90.0 76.0 Min. 57.5 79.5 84.5 68.0 Range 11.5 4.0 5.5 8.0 WET-BULB Mean 57.7 65.3 63.3 60.3 Max. Depression 8.0 19.0 26.5 13.0 Min. Depression 6.0 14.0 21.5 8.3

Elasticity of Vapour .428 .468 .324 .433

DEW-POINT Mean 52.0 54.5 43.7 52.3 Max. 55.5 57.9 47.8 56.7 Min. 45.9 49.0 37.9 46.8 Max. Depression 14.1 33.0 46.6 21.9 Min. Depression 11.6 12.9 42.2 13.8

Weight of Vapour in cubic feet 4.710 5.000 3.417 4.707

SATURATION Mean .647 .421 .240 .542 Max. .741 .479 .295 .643 Min. .648 .344 .214 .491

Number of observations 4 3 3 4

Extreme variations of Temperature 32.5 degrees Extreme variations of relative humidity .527 Extreme diff. Solar and Nocturnal Radiation 110.5 degrees

NOCTURNAL RADIATION

SUNRISE Exposed Th. On Earth On Grass Temperature 59.5 56.0 54.7 Mean Diff. from Air 3.5 1.5 8.2 Max. Diff. from Air 3.5 1.5 8.5 Number of Observations 2 1 2

NINE P.M. Exposed Th. On Earth On Grass Temperature 71.5 62.5 61.0 Mean Diff. from Air 3.3 5.5 8.2 Max. Diff. from Air 7.0 5.5 11.0 Number of Observations 3 1 2

The rapid drying of the lower strata of the atmosphere during the day, as indicated by the great decrease in the tension of the vapour from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m., is the effect of the great violence of the north-west winds.

From the few days' observations taken on the Kymore hills, the temperature of their flat tops appeared 5 degrees higher than that of the Soane valley, which is 500 feet below their mean level. I can account for this anomaly only on the supposition that the thick bed of alluvium, freely exposed to the sun (not clothed with jungle), absorbs the sun's rays and parts with its heat slowly. This is indicated by the increase of temperature being due to the night and morning observations, which are 3.1 degrees and 8.5 degrees higher here than below, whilst the 9 a.m. and 3 p.m. temperatures are half a degree lower.

The variations of temperature too are all much less in amount, as are those of the state of the atmosphere as to moisture, though the climate is rather damper.

On the subject of terrestrial radiation the paucity of the observations precludes my dwelling. Between 9 p.m. and sunrise the following morning I found the earth to have lost but 6.5 degrees of heat, whereas a mean of nine observations at the same hours in the valley below indicated a loss of 12 degrees.

Though the mean temperature deduced from the few days I spent on this part of the Kymore is so much above that of the upper Soane valley, which it bounds, I do not suppose that the whole hilly range partakes of this increase. When the alluvium does not cover the rock, as at Rotas and many other places, especially along the southern and eastern ridges of the ghats, the nights are considerably cooler than on the banks of the Soane; and at Rotas itself, which rises almost perpendicularly from the river, and is exposed to no such radiation of heat from a heated soil as Shahgunj is, I found the temperature considerably below that of Akbarpore on the Soane, which however is much sheltered by an amphitheatre of rocks.

V. _Mirzapore on the Ganges._

During the few days spent at Mirzapore, I was surprised to find the temperature of the day cooler by nearly 4 degrees than that of the hills above, or of the upper part of the Soane valley, while the nights on the other hand were decidedly warmer. The dew-point was even lower in proportion, 7.6 degrees, and the climate consequently drier. The following is an abstract of the observations taken at Mr. Hamilton's house on the banks of the Ganges (below).

It is remarkable that nocturnal radiation as registered at sunrise is much more powerful at Mirzapore than on the more exposed Kymore plateau; the depression of the thermometer freely exposed being 3 degrees greater, that laid on bare earth 6 degrees, and that on the grass 1.4 degrees greater, on the banks of the Ganges. During my passage down the Ganges the rise of the dew-point was very steady, the maximum occurring at the lowest point on the river, Bhaugulpore, which, as compared with Mirzapore, showed an increase of 8 degrees in temperature, and of 30.6 degrees in the rise of the dew-point. The saturation-point at Mirzakore was .331, and at the corresponding hours at Bhaugulpore .742.

MIRZAPORE (ELEV. 362 FEET), MARCH 9TH TO 13TH, 1848.

Hour Sunrise 9 a.m. 3 p.m. 9 p.m. TEMPERATURE Mean 61.1 76.1 86.0 76.0 Max. 63.0 83.0 ... ... Min. 58.0 71.0 ... ... Range 5.0 12.0 ... ... WET-BULB Mean 48.8 58.5 61.7 63.5 Max. Difference 51.5 56.5 24.3 12.5 Min. Difference 47.0 51.7 ... ...

Elasticity of Vapour .236 .302 .295 .480

DEW-POINT Mean 34.3 41.9 41.3 55.2 Max. 39.7 ... ... ... Min. 29.7 ... ... ... Max. Difference 32.8 52.3 44.7 20.8 Min. Difference 23.8 15.7 ... ...

Weight of Vapour in cubic feet 2.574 3.271 3.089 5.127

SATURATION Mean .405 .324 .264 .511 Max. .450 .603 ... ... Min. .327 .176 ... ...

Number of observations 3 3 1 1

TERRESTRIAL RADIATION. Mean Air in Shade. Sunrise 60.0 62.5 63.0 58.0 60.9 Exposed Th. 55.0 54.5 55.5 53.0 54.6 Difference 5.0 8.0 7.5 5.0 6.4 Exposed on earth ... 56.0 50.5 54.0 53.5 Difference ... 6.5 12.5 4.0 7.7 Exposed on grass 52.0 52.5 50.5 50.0 51.3 Difference 8.0 10.0 12.5 8.0 9.6

APPENDIX B.

ON THE MINERAL CONSTITUENTS AND ALGAE OF THE HOT-SPRINGS OF BEHAR, THE HIMALAYA, AND OTHER PARTS OF INDIA, ETC., INCLUDING NOTES ON THE FUNGI OF THE HIMALAYA.

(By Dr. R. D. Thomson and the Rev. M. J. Berkeley, M.A., F.L.S.)

The following remarks, for which I am indebted to the kindness of the able chemist and naturalist mentioned above, will be highly valued, both by those who are interested in the many curious physiological questions involved in the association of the most obscure forms of vegetable life with the remarkable phenomena of mineral springs; or in the exquisitely beautiful microscopic structure of the lower Algae, which has thrown so much light upon a branch of natural history, whose domain, like that of astronomy, lies to a great extent beyond the reach of the unassisted eye.--J.D.H.

1. Mineral water, Soorujkoond, Behar (vol. i., chap. ii), contains chloride of sodium and sulphate of soda.

2. Mineral water, hot springs, Yeumtong, altitude 11,730 feet (see vol. ii., chap. xxii). Disengages sulphuretted hydrogen when fresh.--This water was inodorous when the bottle was opened. The saline matter in solution was considerably less than in the Soorujkoond water, but like that consisted of chloride of sodium and sulphate of soda. Its alkaline character suggests the probability of its containing carbonate of soda, but none was detected.

The rocks decomposed by the waters of the spring consist of granite impregnated with sulphate of alumina. It appears that in this case the sulphurous waters of Yeumtong became impregnated in the air with sulphuric acid, which decomposed the felspar,* [I have, in my journal, particularly alluded to the garnets (an aluminous mineral) being thus entirely decomposed.-J.D.H.] and united with its alumina. I found traces only of potash in the salt.

Sulphuretted hydrogen waters appear to give origin to sulphuric acid, when the water impregnated with the gas reaches the surface; and I have fine fibrous specimens of sulphate of lime accompanied with sulphur, from the hot springs of Pugha in west Tibet, brought by Dr. T. Thomson.

3. Mineral water, Momay hot springs, (vol. ii., chap. xxii).--When the bottle was uncorked, a strong smell of sulphuretted hydrogen was perceived. The water contains about twenty-five grains per imp. gallon, of chloride of sodium, sulphate and carbonate of soda; the reaction being strongly alkaline when the solution was concentrated.

4. Effloresced earth from Behar (vol. i., chap. i), consists of granite sand, mixed with sesquicarbonate of soda.

_On the Indian Algae which occur principally in different parts of the Himalayan Range, in the hot-sprinys of Soorujkoond in Bengal, Pugha in Tibet, and Momay in Sikkim; and on the Fungi of the Himalayas. By the Rev. M. J. Berkeley, M.A.

It is not my intention in the present appendix to give specific characters or even accurately determined specific names to the different objects within its scope, which have come under investigation, as collected by Dr. Hooker and Dr. Thomson. To do so would require far more time than I have at present been able to devote to the subject, for though every species has been examined microscopically, either by myself or Mr. Broome, and working sketches secured at the same time, the specific determination of fresh water Algae from Herbarium specimens is a matter which requires a very long and accurate comparison of samples from every available locality, and in the case of such genera as _Zygnema, Tyndaridea,_ and _Conferva,_ is, after all, not a very satisfactory process.

The object in view is merely to give some general notion of the forms which presented themselves in the vast districts visited by the above-mentioned botanists, comprising localities of the greatest possible difference as regards both temperature and elevation; but more especially in the hot-springs which occur in two distant parts of the Himalayas and in Behar, and these again under very different degrees of elevation and of extrinsic temperature.

The Algae from lower localities are but few in number, and some of these of very common forms. We have for instance from the Ganges, opposite Bijnour, a _Batrachospermum_ and _Conferva crispata,_ the former purple below, with specimens of _Chantransia,_ exactly as they might occur in the Thames. The _Conferva,_ or more properly _Cladophora,_ which occurs also under various forms, at higher elevations, as in the neighbourhood of Simla and Iskardo, swarms with little parasites, but of common or uninteresting species. In the Bijnour specimens, these consist of common forms of _Synedra, Meridion circulare,_ and a _Cymbella,_ on others from Dacca, there are about three species of _Synedra,_* {Two of these appear to be _S. Vaucheriae_ and _S. inaequalis._] a minute _Navicula_ and _Gomphonema curvatum._ Nothing, in fact, can well be more European. One splendid Alga, however, occurs at Fitcoree, in Behar, on the banks of nullahs, which are dry in hot weather, forming a purple fleece of coarse woolly hairs, which are singularly compressed, and of extreme beauty under the microscope, from the crystalline green of the articulated string which threads the bright red investing sheath. This curious Alga calls to mind in its colouring _Caenocoleus Smithii,_ figured in English Botany, t. 2940, but it has not the common sheath of that Alga, and is on a far larger scale. One or two other allied forms, or species, occur in East Nepal, to which I purpose giving, together with the Behar plant, the generic name of _Erythronema._ From the Soane River, also, is an interesting Alga, belonging to the curious genus _Thwaitesia,_ in which the division of the endochrome in the fertile cells into four distinct masses, sometimes entirely free, is beautifully marked. In some cases, indeed, instead of the ordinary spores, the whole moss is broken up into numerous bodies, as in the fertile joints of _Ulothrix,_ and probably, as in that case, the resultant corpuscles are endowed with active motion. In Silhet, again, is a magnificent _Zygnema,_ allied to _Z. nitidum,_ with large oval spores, about 1/285 part of an inch long, and a dark golden brown colour, and containing a spiral green endochrome.

Leaving, however, the lower parts of India, I shall first take the species which occur in Khasia, Sikkim, Eastern Nepal, and the adjoining parts of Tibet.

In the hot valleys of the Gtreat Rungeet, at an elevation of about 2000 feet, we have the _Erythronema,_ but under a slightly different form; at Nunklow, at about the same height; in Khasia, again, at twice that elevation; in Eastern Nepal, at 12,000; and, finally, at Momay, reaching up to 16,000 feet. In water, highly impregnated with oxide of iron, at 4000 feet in Sikkim, a _Leptothrix_ occurred in great abundance, coloured with the oxide, exactly as is the case with Algae which grow in iron springs in Europe. At elevations between 5000 and 7000 feet, several European forms occur, consisting of _Ulothrix, Zygnema, Oscillatoria, Lyngbya, Sphaerozyga, Scytonema, Conferva,_ and _Cladophora._ The species may indeed not be identical with European species, but they are all more or less closely allied to well-known Hydrophytes. One very interesting form, however, either belonging to the genus _Zygnema,_ or possibly constituting a distinct genus, occurs in streams at 5000 feet in Sikkim, consisting of highly gelatinous threads of the normal structure of the _Zygnema,_ but forming a reticulated mass. The threads adhere to each other laterally, containing only a single spiral endochrome, and the articulations are very long. Amongst the threads are mixed those of some species of _Tyndaridea._ There is also a curious _Hormosiphon,_ at a height of 7000 feet; forming anastomosing gelatinous masses. A fine new species of _Lyngbya_ extends up as high as 11,000 feet. At 13,000 feet occurs either some simple _Conferva_ or _Zygnema,_ it is doubtful which from the condition of the specimens; and at the same elevation, in the nearly dry bed of the stream which flows from the larger lake at Momay, amongst flat cakes, consisting of felspathic silt from the glaciers above, and the debris of Algae, and abounding in Diatomaceae, some threads of a _Zygnema._ At 17,000 feet, an _Oscillatoria,_ attached or adherent to _Zannichellia_; and, finally, on the bare ground, at 18,000 feet, on the Donkia mountains, an obscure species of _Caenocoleus._ On the surface of the glaciers at Kinchinjhow, on silt, there is a curious _Palmella,_ apparently quite distinct from any European form.

Amongst the greater part of the Algae, from 4000 feet to 18,000 feet, various Diatomaceae occur, which will be best noticed in a tabular form, as follows; the specific name, within brackets, merely indicating the species to which they bear most resemblance:--

Himantidium (_Soleirolii_) 4000 to 7000 ft. Sikkim Odontidium (_hiemale,_ forma minor) 5000 to 7000 ft. Sikkim Epithemia, _n. sp._ 7000 ft. Sikkim Cymbella -- Sikkim Navicula, _n. sp._ -- Sikkim Tabillaria (_flocculosa_) 6000 to 7000 ft. Sikkim Odontidium (_hiemale_) 11,000 ft. Sikkim Himantidium 16,000 ft. Momay Odontidium (_turgidulum_) 17,000 ft. Momay Epithemia (_ocellata_) -- Tibet Fragillaria 18,000 ft. Momay Odontidium (_turgidulum_) -- Momay Dictyocha (_gracilis_) -- Momay Odontidium (_hiemale_) -- Kinchinjhow

We now turn to those portions of Tibet or the neighbouring regions, explored by Dr. Thomson and Captain Strachey. The principal feature in the Algology is the great prevalence of species of _Zygnema_ and _Tyndaridea,_ which occur under a variety of forms, sometimes with very thick gelatinous coats. In not a single instance, however, is there the slightest tendency to produce fructification. _Conferva crispata_ again, as mentioned above, occurs in several localities; and in one locality a beautiful unbranched _Conferva,_ with torulose articulations. At Iskardo, Dr. Thomson gathered a very gelatinous species of _Draparnaldia,_ or more properly, a _Stygeoclonium,_ if we may judge from a little conglomeration of cells which appeared amongst the threads. A _Tetraspora_ in Piti, an obscure _Tolypothrix,_ and one or two _Oscillatoriae,_ remarkable for their interrupted mode of growth, complete the list of Algae, with the exception of one, to be mentioned presently; as also of _Diatomaceae,_ and of the species of _Nostoc_ and _Hormosiphon,_ which occurred in great profusion, and under several forms, sometimes attaining a very large size (several inches across), especially in the districts of Le and Piti, and where the soil or waters were impregnated with saline matters. It is well known that some species of _Nostoc_ form an article of food in China, and one was used for that purpose in a late Arctic expedition, as reported by Dr. Sutherland; but it does not seem that any use is made of them in Tibet, though probably all the large species would form tolerable articles of food, and certainly, from their chemical composition, prove very nutritious. One species is mentioned by Dr. Thomson as floating, without any attachment, in the shallow water of the pools scattered over the plains, on the Parang River, separated only by a ridge of mountains from Piti, broad and foliaceous, and scarcely different from the common _Nostoc,_ which occurs in all parts of the globe. I must not, however, neglect to record a very singular new genus, in which the young threads have the characters of _Tyndaridea,_ but, after a time, little swellings occur on their sides, in which a distinct endochrome is formed, extending backwards into the parent endochrome, separated from it by a well defined membrane, and producing, either by repeated pullulation, a compound mass like that of _Calothrix,_ or simply giving rise to a forked thread. In the latter case, however, there is no external swelling, but a lateral endochrome is formed, which, as it grows, makes its way through an aperture, whose sides are regularly inflected. I have given to this curious production the name of _Cladozygia Thomsoni._

The whole of the above Algae occurred at heights varying from 10,000 to 15,500 feet. As in the Southern Himalayan Algae, the specimens were infested with many Diatomaceae, amongst which the moat conspicuous were various _Cymbellae_ and _Epithemiae. The following is a list of the species observed.

Cymbella (_gastroides_). -- (_gracilis_). -- (_Ehrenbergii_) and three others. Odontidium (_hiemale_). -- (_mesodon_). -- _n. sp._ Epithemia _n. sp._ Synedra (_arcus_). -- (_tenuis_). -- (_aequalis_). Denticula (_obtusa_). Gomphonema (_abbreviatum_). Meridion circulare.

There is very little identity between this list and that before given from the Southern Himalayas, as is the case also with the other Algae. Till the species, however, have been more completely studied, a very accurate comparison cannot be made.

In both instances the species which grow in hot springs have been reserved in order to make their comparison more easy. I shall begin in an inverse order, with those of the springs of Pugha in Tibet, which attain a temperature of 174 degrees. Two _Confervae_ only occur in the specimens which have been preserved, viz., an _Oscillatoria_ allied to that which I have called _O. interrupta,_ and a true _Conferva_ extremely delicate with very long articulations, singularly swollen at the commissures. The _Diatomaceae_ are:--

Odontidium (_hiemale_). -- (_mesodon_). -- _n. sp.,_ same as at Piti on _Conferva._ Denticula (_obtusa_). Navicula. Cymbella, three species. Epithemia.

Scarcely any one of these except the _Navicula_ is peculiar to the locality. A fragment apparently of some _Closterium,_ the only one which I have met with in the collection, accompanies one of the specimens.

The hot springs of Momay, (temp. 110 degrees) at 16,000 feet, produce a golden brown _Caenocoleus_ representing a small form of _C. cirrhosus,_ and a very delicate _Sphaerozyga,_ an _Anabaina,_ and _Tolypothrix_; and at 17,000 feet, a delicate green _Conferva_ with long even articulations. With the latter is an _Odontidium_ allied to, or identical with _O. turgidulum,_ and with the former a fine species of _Epithemia_ resembling in form, but not in marking, _E. Faba, E. (Zebra)_ a fine _Navicula,_ perhaps the same with _N. major_ and _Fragilaria (virescens)._* [Mr. Thomas Brightwell finds in a portion of the same specimen _Epithemia alpestris, Surirella splendida, S. linearis,_ Smith, _Pinnularia viridis,_ Smith, _Navicula (lanceolata)_ and _Himantidium (arcus)._] In mud from one of the Momay springs (_a_), I detected _Epithemia (Broomeii n.s.),_ and two small _Naviculae,_ and in the spring (_c_) two species of _Epithemia_ somewhat like _E. Faba,_ but different from that mentioned above.

The hot springs of Soorujkoond, of the vegetation of which very numerous specimens have been preserved, are extremely poor in species. In the springs themselves and on their banks, at temperatures varying from 80 degrees to 158 degrees, at which point vegetation entirely ceases, a minute _Leptothrix_ abounds everywhere, varying a little in the regularity of the threads in different specimens, but scarcely presenting two species. Between 84 degrees and 112 degrees there is an imperfect _Zygnema_ with very long articulations, and where the green scum passes into brown, there is sometimes an _0scillatoria,_ of a very minute stellate _Scytonema,_ probably in an imperfect state. _Epithemia ocellata_ also contributes often to produce the tint. An _Anabaina_ occurs at a temperature of 125 degrees, but the same species was found also in the stream from the springs where the water had become cold, as was also the case with the _Zygnema._

The Diatomaceae consisted of:--

Epithemia Broomeii, _n. s._ -- thermalis, _n. sp._ Epithemia inaequalis, _n. sp._ Navicula Beharensis, _n. sp._

The vegetation in the three sets of springs was very different. As regards the _Confervae,_ taking the word in its older sense, the species in the three are quite different, and even in respect of genera there is little identity, but amongst the _Diatomaceae_ there is no striking difference, except in those of the Behar springs where three out of the four did not occur elsewhere. In the Pugha and Momay springs, the species were either identical with, or nearly allied to those found in neighbouring localities, where the water did not exceed the ordinary temperature. A longer examination will doubtless detect more numerous forms, but those which appear on a first examination are sure to give a pretty correct general notion of the vegetation. The species are certainly less numerous than I had expected, or than might be supposed from the vegetation of those European hot springs which have been most investigated.

In conclusion, I shall beg to add a few words on the Fungi of the Himalayas, so far as they have at present been investigated. As regards these there is a marked difference, as might be anticipated from the nature of the climates between those parts of Tibet investigated by Dr. Thomson, and the more southern regions. The fungi found by Dr. Thomson were but few in number, and for the most part of very ordinary forms, differing but little from the produce of an European wood. Some, however, grow to a very large size, as for instance, _Polyporus fomentarius_ on poplars near Iskardo, exceeding in dimensions anything which this species exhibits in Europe. A very fine _AEcidium_ also infests the fir trees (_Abies Smithiana_), a figure of which has been given in the "Gardeners' Chronicle," 1852, p. 627, under the name of _AEcidium Thomsoni._ This is allied to the Hexenbesen of the German forests, but is a finer species and quite distinct. _Polyporus oblectans, Geaster limbatus, Geaster mammosus, Erysiphe taurica,_ a _Boletus_ infested with _Sepedonium mycophilum, Scleroderma verrucosum,_ an _AEcidium,_ and a _Uromyces,_ both on _Mulgedium Tataricum,_ about half-a-dozen Agarics, one at an altitude of 16,000 feet above the Nubra river, a _Lycoperdon,_ and _Morchella semilibera,_ which is eaten in Kashmir, and exported when dry to the plains of India, make up the list of fungi.

The region of Sikkim is perhaps the most productive in fleshy fungi of any in the world, both as regards numbers and species, and Eastern Nepal and Khasia yield also an abundant harvest. The forms are for the most part European, though the species are scarcely ever quite identical. The dimensions of many are truly gigantic, and many species afford abundant food to the natives. Mixed with European forms a few more decidedly tropical occur, and amongst those of East Nepal is a _Lentinus_ which has the curious property of staining every thing which touches it of a deep rhubarb yellow, and is not exceeded in magnificence by any tropical species. The _Polypori_ are often identical with those of Java, Ceylon, and the Philippine Isles, and the curious _Trichocoma paradoxum_ which was first found by Junghuhn in Java, and very recently by Dr. Harvey in Ceylon, occurs abundantly on the decayed trunks of laurels, as it does in South Carolina. The curious genus _Mitremyces_ also is scattered here and there, though not under the American form, but that which occurs in Java. Though _Hymenomycetes_ are so abundant, the _Discomycetes_ and _Ascomycetes_ are comparatively rare, and very few species indeed of _Sphoeria_ were gathered. One curious matter is, that amongst the very extensive collections which have been made there is scarcely a single new genus. The species moreover in Sikkim are quite different, except in the case of some more or less cosmopolite species from those of Eastern Nepal and Khasia: scarcely a single _Lactarius_ or _Cortinarius_ for instance occurs in Sikkim, though there are several in Khasia. The genus _Boletus_ through the whole district assumes the most magnificent forms, which are generally very different from anything in Europe.

APPENDIX C.* [The tables referred to, at v. i. chapter ii, as under Appendix C., will be found under Appendix A.]

ON THE SOILS OF SIKKIM.

There is little variety in the soil throughout Sikkim, and, as far as vegetation is concerned, it may be divided into vegetable mould and stiff clay--each, as they usually occur, remarkably characteristic in composition of such soils. Bog-earth is very rare, nor did I find peat at any elevation.

The clay is uniformly of great tenacity, and is, I believe, wholly due to the effect of the atmosphere on crumbling gneiss and other rocks. It makes excellent bricks, is tenacious, seldom friable, and sometimes accumulated in beds fourteen feet thick, although more generally only about two feet. In certain localities, beds or narrow seams of pure felspathic clay and layers of vegetable matter occur in it, probably wholly due to local causes. An analysis of that near Dorjiling gives about 30 per cent. of alumina, the rest being silica, and a fraction of oxide of iron. Lime is wholly unknown as a constituent of the soil, and only occasionally seen as a stalactitic deposit from a few springs.

A layer of vegetable earth almost invariably covers the clay to the depth of from three to twelve or fourteen inches. It is a very rich black mould, held in its position on the slopes of the hills by the dense vegetation, and accumulated on the banks of small streams to a depth at times of three and four feet. The following is an analysis of an average specimen of the surface-soil of Dorjiling, made for me by my friend C. J. Muller, Esq., of that place:--

_a._--DRY EARTH.

Anhydrous 83.84 Water 16.16 ------ 100.00

_b._--ANHYDROUS EARTH.

Humic acid 3.89 Humine 4.61 Undecomposed vegetable matter 20.98 Peroxide of iron and manganese 7.05 Alumina 8.95 Siliceous matter, insoluble in dilute hydrochloric acid 54.52 Traces of soda and muriatic acid -- ------ 100.00

_c._--Soluble in water, gr. 1.26 per cent., consisting of soda, muriatic acid, organic matter, and silica.

The soil from which this example was taken was twelve inches deep; it abounded to the eye in vegetable matter, and was siliceous to the touch. There were no traces of phosphates or of animal matter, and doubtful traces of lime and potash. The subsoil of clay gave only 5.7 per cent. of water, and 5.55 of organic matter. The above analysis was conducted during the rainy month of September, and the sample is an average one of the surface-soil at 6000 to 10,000 feet. There is, I think, little difference anywhere in the soils at this elevation, except where the rock is remarkably micaceous, or where veins of felspathic granite, by their decomposition, give rise to small beds of kaolin.

APPENDIX D.

(Vol. i., chapter ii.)

AN AURORA SEEN FROM BAROON ON THE EAST BANK OF THE S0ANE RIVER.

Lat. 24 degrees 52 minutes N.; Long. 84 degrees 22 minutes E.; Alt. 345 feet.

TheE following appearances are as noted in my journal at the time. They so entirely resembled auroral beams, that I had no hesitation in pronouncing them at the time to be such. This opinion has, however, been dissented from by some meteorologists, who consider that certain facts connected with the geographical distribution of auroras (if I may use the term), are opposed to it. I am well aware of the force of these arguments, which I shall not attempt to controvert; but for the information of those who may be interested in the matter, I may remark, that I am very familiar with the Aurora borealis in the northern temperate zone, and during the Antarctic expedition was in the habit of recording in the log-book the appearance presented by the Aurora australis. The late Mr. Williams, Mr. Haddon, and Mr. Theobald, who were also witnesses of the appearances on this occasion, considered it a brilliant display of the aurora.

_Feb. 14th,_ 9 p.m.--Bax. Corr. 29.751; temp. 62 degrees; D.P. 41.0 degrees; calm, sky clear; moon three-quarters full, and bright.

Observed about thirty lancet beams rising in the north-west from a low luminous arch, whose extremes bore W. 20 degrees S., and N. 50 degrees E.; altitude of upper limb of arch 20 degrees, of the lower 8 degrees. The beams crossed the zenith, and converged towards S. 15 degrees E. The extremity of the largest was forked, and extended to 25 degrees above the horizon in the S.E. by S. quarter. The extremity of the centre one bore S. 50 degrees E., and was 45 degrees above the horizon. The western beams approached nearest the southern horizon. All the beams moved and flashed slowly, occasionally splitting and forking, fading and brightening; they were brightly defined, though the milky way and zodiacal light could not be discerned, and the stars and planets, though clearly discernible, were very pale.

At 10 p.m., the luminous appearance was more diffused; upper limb of the arch less defined; no beams crossed the zenith; but occasionally beams appeared there and faded away.

Between 10 and 11, the beams continued to move and replace one another, as usual in auroras, but disappeared from the south-east quarter, and became broader in the northern hemisphere; the longest beams were near the north and north-east horizon.

At half-past 10, a dark belt, 4 degrees broad, appeared in the luminous arch, bearing from N. 55 degrees W. to N. 10 degrees W.; its upper limb was 10 degrees above the horizon: it then gradually dilated, and thus appeared to break up the arch. This appeared to be the commencement of the dispersion of the phenomenon.

At 10.50 p.m. the dark band had increased so much in breadth that the arch was broken up in the north-west, and no beams appeared there. Eighteen linear beams rose from the eastern part of the arch, and bore from north to N. 20 degrees E.

Towards 11 p.m., the dark band appeared to have replaced the luminous arch; the beams were all but gone, a few fragments appearing in the N.E. A southerly wind sprang up, and a diffused light extended along the horizon.

At midnight, I saw two faint beams to the north-east, and two well defined parallel ones in the south-west.

APPENDIX E.

PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY OF THE SIKKIM HIMALAYA, EAST NEPAL, AND ADJACENT PROVINCES OF TIBET.

Sikkim is included in a section of the Himalaya, about sixty miles broad from east to west, where it is bounded respectively by the mountain states of Bhotan and Nepal. Its southern limits are easily defined, for the mountains rise abruptly from the plains of Bengal, as spurs of 6000 to 10,000 feet high, densely clothed with forest to their summits. The northern and north-eastern frontier of Sikkim is beyond the region of much rain, and is not a natural, but a political line, drawn between that country and Tibet. Sikkim lies nearly due north of Calcutta, and only four hundred miles from the Bay of Bengal; its latitude being 26 degrees 40 minutes to 28 degrees N., and longitude 88 degrees to 89 degrees E.

The main features of Sikkim are Kinchinjunga, the loftiest hitherto measured mountain, which lies to its north-west, and rises 28,178 feet above the level of the sea; and the Teesta river, which flows throughout the length of the country, and has a course of upwards of ninety miles in a straight line. Almost all the sources of the Teesta are included in Sikkim; and except some comparatively insignificant streams draining the outermost ranges, there are no rivers in this country but itself and its feeders, which occupy the largest of the Himalayan valleys between the Tambur in East Nepal, and the Machoo in Western Bhotan.

An immense spur, sixty miles long, stretches south from Kinchin to the plains of India; it is called Singalelah, and separates Sikkim from East Nepal; the waters from its west flank flow into the Tambur, and those from the east into the Great Rungeet, a feeder of the Teesta. Between these two latter rivers is a second spur from Kinchinjunga, terminating in Tendong.

The eastern boundary of Sikkim, separating it from Bhotan, is formed for the greater part by the Chola range, which stretches south from the immense mountain of Donkia, 23,176 feet high, situated fifty miles E.N.E. of Kinchinjunga: where the frontier approaches the plains of India, the boundary line follows the course of the Teesta, and of the Rinkpo, one of its feeders, flowing from the Chola range. This range is much more lofty than that of Singalelah, and the drainage from its eastern flank is into the Machoo river, the upper part of whose course is in Tibet, and the lower in Bhotan.

The Donkia mountain, though 4000 feet lower than Kinchin, is the culminant point of a much more extensive and elevated mountain mass. It throws off an immense spur from its north-west face, which runs west, and then south-west, to Kinchin, forming the watershed of all the remote sources of the Teesta. This spur has a mean elevation of 18,000 to 19,000 feet, and several of its peaks (of which Chomiomo is one) rise much higher. The northern boundary of Sikkim is not drawn along this, but runs due west from Donkia, following a shorter, but stupendous spur, called Kinchinjhow; whence it crosses the Teesta to Chomiomo, and is continued onwards to Kinchinjunga.

Though the great spur connecting Donkia with Kinchin is in Tibet, and bounds the waters that flow directly south into the Teesta, it is far from the true Himalayan axis, for the rivers that rise on its northern slope do not run into the valley of the Tsampu, or Tibetan Burrampooter, but into the Arun of Nepal, which rises to the north of Donkia, and flows south-west for many miles in Tibet, before entering Nepal and flowing south to the Ganges.

Sikkim, thus circumscribed, consists of a mass of mountainous spurs, forest-clad up to 12,000 feet; there are no flat valleys or plains in the whole country, no lakes or precipices of any consequence below that elevation, and few or no bare slopes, though the latter are uniformly steep. The aspect of Sikkim can only be understood by a reference to its climate and vegetation, and I shall therefore take these together, and endeavour, by connecting these phenomena, to give an intelligible view of the main features of the whole country.* [This I did with reference especially to the cultivation of Rhododendrons, in a paper which the Horticultural Society of London did me the honour of printing. Quarterly Journ. of Hort. Soc., vol. vii., p. 82.]

The greater part of the country between Sikkim and the sea is a dead level, occupied by the delta of the Ganges and Burrampooter, above which the slope is so gradual to the base of the mountains, that the surface of the plain from which the Himalayas immediately rise is only 300 feet above the sea. The most obvious effect of this position is, that the prevailing southerly wind reaches the first range of hills, loaded with vapour. The same current, when deflected easterly to Bhotan, or westerly to Nepal and the north-west Himalaya, is intercepted and drained of much moisture, by the Khasia and Garrow mountains (south of Assam and the Burrampooter) in the former case, and the Rajmahal hills (south of the Ganges) in the latter. Sikkim is hence the dampest region of the whole Himalaya.

Viewed from a distance on the plains of India, Sikkim presents the appearance--common to all mountainous countries--of consecutive parallel ridges, running east and west: these are all wooded, and backed by a beautiful range of snowy peaks, with occasional breaks in the foremost ranges, through which the rivers debouch. Any view of the Himalaya, especially at a sufficient distance for the remote snowy peaks to be seen overtopping the outer ridges, is, however, rare, from the constant deposition of vapours over the forest-clad ranges during the greater part of the year, and the haziness of the dry atmosphere of the plains in the winter months. At the end of the rains, when the south-east monsoon has ceased to blow with constancy, views are obtained, sometimes from a distance of nearly two hundred miles. From the plains, the highest peaks subtend so small an angle, that they appear like white specks very low on the horizon, tipping the black lower and outer wooded ranges, which always rise out of a belt of haze, and from the density, probably, of the lower strata of atmosphere, are never seen to rest on the visible horizon. The remarkable lowness on the horizon of the whole stupendous mass is always a disappointing feature to the new comer, who expects to see dazzling peaks towering in the air. Approaching nearer, the snowy mountains sink behind the wooded ones, long before the latter have assumed gigantic proportions; and when they do so, they appear a sombre, lurid grey-green mass of vegetation, with no brightness or variation of colour. There is no break in this forest caused by rock, precipices, or cultivation; some spurs project nearer, and some valleys appear to retire further into the heart of the foremost great chain that shuts out all the country beyond.

From Dorjiling the appearance of parallel ridges is found to be deceptive, and due to the inosculating spurs of long tortuous ranges that ran north and south throughout the whole length of Sikkim, dividing deep wooded valleys, which form the beds of large rivers. The snowy peaks here look like a long east and west range of mountains, at an average distance of thirty or forty miles. Advancing into the country, this appearance proves equally deceptive, and the snowy range is resolved into isolated peaks, situated on the meridional ridges; their snow-clad spurs, projecting east and west, cross one another, and being uniformly white, appear to connect the peaks into one grand unbroken range. The rivers, instead of having their origin in the snowy mountains, rise far beyond them; many of their sources are upwards of one hundred miles in a straight line from the plains, in a very curious country, loftier by far in mean elevation than the meridional ridges which run south from it, yet comparatively bare of snow. This rearward part of the mountain region is Tibet, where all the Sikkim, Nepal, and Bhotan rivers rise as small streams, increasing in size as they receive the drainage from the snowed parts of the ridges that bound them in their courses. Their banks, between 8000 and 14,000 feet, are generally clothed with rhododendrons, sometimes to the almost total exclusion of other woody vegetation, especially near the snowy mountains--a cool temperature and great humidity being the most favourable conditions for the luxuriant growth of this genus.

The source of this humidity is the southerly or sea wind which blows steadily from May till October in Sikkim, and prevails throughout the rest of the year, if not as the monsoon properly so called, as a current from the moist atmosphere above the Gangetic delta. This rushes north to the rarefied regions of Sikkim, up the great valleys, and does not appear materially disturbed by the north- west wind, which blows during the afternoons of the winter months over the plains, and along the flanks of the outer range, and is a dry surface current, due to the diurnal heating of the soil. When it is considered that this wind, after passing lofty mountains on the outer range, has to traverse eighty or one hundred miles of alps before it has watered all the forest region, it will be evident that its moisture must be expended before it reaches Tibet.

Let the figures in the accompanying woodcut, the one on the true scale, the other with the heights exaggerated, represent two of these long meridional ridges, from the watershed to the plains of India, following in this instance the course of the Teesta river, from its source at 19,000 feet to where it debouches from the Himalaya at 300. The lower rugged outline represents one meridional ridge, with all its most prominent peaks (whether exactly or not on the line of section); the upper represents the parallel ridge of Singalelah (D.E.P.), of greater mean elevation, further west, introduced to show the maximum elevation of the Sikkim mountains, Kinchinjunga (28,178 feet), being represented on it. A deep valley is interposed between these two ridges, with a feeder of the Teesta in it (the Great Rungeet), which runs south from Kinchin, and turning west enters the Teesta at R. The position of the bed of the Teesta river is indicated by a dotted line from its source at T to the plains at S; of Dorjiling, on the north flank of the outer range, by _d_; of the first point where perpetual snow is met with, by P; and of the first indications of a Tibetan climate, by C.

Illustration--SECTION OF THE SIKKIM HIMALAYA ALONG THE COURSE OF THE TEESTA RIVER.

A warm current of Air, loaded with vapour, will deposit the bulk of its moisture on the ridge of Sinchul, which rises above Dorjiling (_d_), and is 8,500 feet high. Passing on, little will be precipitated on _e_ whose elevation is the same as that of Sinchul; but much at _f_ (11,000 feet), where the current, being further cooled, has less capacity for holding vapour, and is further exhausted. When it ascends to P (15,000 feet) it is sufficiently cooled to deposit snow in the winter and spring months, more of which falling than can be melted during the summer, it becomes perennial. At the top of ginchin very little falls, and it is doubtful if the southerly current ever reaches that prodigiously elevated isolated summit. The amount of surface above 20,000 feet is, however, too limited and broken into isolated peaks to drain the already nearly, exhausted current, whose condensed vapours roll along in fog beyond the parallel of Kinchin, are dissipated during the day over the arid mountains of Tibet, and deposited at night on the cooled surface of the earth.

Other phenomena of no less importance than the distribution of vapour, and more or less depending on it, are the duration and amount of solar and terrestrial radiation. Towards D the sun is rarely seen during the rainy season, as well from the constant presence of nimbi aloft, as from fog on the surface of the ground. An absence of both light and heat is the result south of the parallel of Kinchin; and at C low fogs prevail at the same season, but do not intercept either the same amount of light or heat; whilst at T there is much sunshine and bright light. During the night, again, there is no terrestrial radiation between S and P; the rain either continues to pour--in some months with increased violence--or the saturated atmosphere is condensed into a thick white mist, which hangs over the redundant vegetation. A bright starlight night is almost unknown in the summer months at 6000 to 10,000 feet, but is frequent in December and January, and at intervals between October and May, when, however, vegetation is little affected by the cold of nocturnal radiation. In the regions north of Kinchin, starlight nights are more frequent, and the cold produced by radiation, at 14,000 feet, is often severe towards the end of the rains in September. Still the amount of clear weather during the night is small; the fog clears off for an hour or two at sunset as the wind falls, but the returning cold north current again chills the air soon afterwards, and rolling masses of vapour are hence flying overhead, or sweeping the surface of the earth, throughout the summer nights. In the Tibetan regions, on the other hand, bright nights and even sharp frosts prevail throughout the warmest months.

Referring again to the cut, it must be borne in mind that neither of the two meridional ridges runs in a straight line, but that they wind or zigzag as all mountain ranges do; that spurs from each ridge are given off from either flank alternately, and that the origin of a spur on one side answers to the source of a river (_i.e.,_ the head of a valley) on the other. These rivers are feeders of the main stream, the Teesta, and run at more or less of an angle to the latter. The spurs from the east flank of one ridge cross, at their ends, those from the west flank of another; and thus transverse valleys are formed, presenting many modifications of climate with regard to exposure, temperature, and humidity.

The roads from the plains of India to the watershed in Tibet always cross these lateral spurs. The main ridge is too winding and rugged, and too lofty for habitation throughout the greater part of its length, while the river-channel is always very winding, unhealthy for the greater part of the year below 4000 feet, and often narrow, gorge-like, and rocky. The villages are always placed above the unhealthy regions, on the lateral spurs, which the traveller repeatedly crosses throughout every day's march; for these spurs give off lesser ones, and these again others of a third degree, whence the country is cut up into as many spurs, ridges, and ranges, as there are rills, streams, and rivers amongst the mountains.

Though the direction of the main atmospheric current is to the north, it is in reality seldom felt to be so, except the observer be on the very exposed mountain tops, or watch the motions of the upper strata of atmosphere. Lower currents of air rush up both the main and lateral valleys, throughout the day; and from the sinuosities in the beds of the rivers, and the generally transverse directions of their feeders, the current often becomes an east or west one. In the branch valleys draining to the north the wind still ascends; it is, in short, an ascending warm, moist current, whatever course be pursued by the valleys it follows.

The sides of each valley are hence equally supplied with moisture, though local circumstances render the soil on one or the other flank more or less humid and favourable to a luxuriant vegetation: such differences are a drier soil on the north side, with a too free exposure to the sun at low elevations, where its rays, however transient, rapidly dry the ground, and where the rains, though very heavy, are of shorter duration, and where, owing to the capacity of the heated air for retaining moisture, day fogs are comparatively rare. In the northern parts of Sikkim, again, some of the lateral valleys are so placed that the moist wind strikes the side facing the south, and keeps it very humid, whilst the returning cold current from the neighbouring Tibetan mountains impinges against the side facing the north, which is hence more bare of vegetation. An infinite number of local peculiarities will suggest themselves to any one conversant with physical geography, as causing unequal local distribution of light, heat, and moisture in the different valleys of so irregular a country; namely, the amount of slope, and its power of retaining moisture and soil; the composition and hardness of the rocks; their dip and strike; the protection of some valleys by lofty snowed ridges; and the free southern exposures of others at great elevations.

The position and elevation of the perpetual snow* [It appears to me, as I have asserted in the pages of my Journal, that the limit of perpetual snow is laid down too low in all mountain regions, and that accumulations in hollows, and the descent of glacial ice, mask the phenomenon more effectually than is generally allowed. In this work I define the limit, as is customary, in general terms only, as being that where the accumulations are very great, and whence they are continuous upwards, on gentle slopes. All perpetual snow, however, becomes ice, and, as such, obeys the laws of glacial motion, moving as a viscous fluid; whence it follows that the lower edge of a snow-bed placed on a slope is, in one sense, the termination of a glacier, and indicates a position below that where all the snow that falls melts. I am well aware that it is impossible to define the limit required with any approach to accuracy. Steep and broken surfaces, with favourable exposures to the sun or moist winds, are bare much above places where snow lies throughout the year; but the occurrence of a gentle slope, free of snow, and covered with plants, cannot but indicate a point below that of perpetual snow. Such is the case with the "Jardin" on the Mer de Glace, whose elevation is 9,500 feet, whereas that of perpetual snow is considered by Professor J. Forbes, our best authority, to be 8,500 feet. Though limited in area, girdled by glaciers, presenting a very gentle slope to the east, and screened by surrounding mountains from a considerable proportion of the sun's rays, the Jardin is clear, for fully three months of the year, of all but sporadic falls of snow, that never lie long; and so are similar spots placed higher on the neighbouring slopes; which facts are quite at variance with the supposition that the perpetual snow-line is below that point in the Mont Blanc Alps. On the Monte Rosa Alps, again, Dr. Thomson and I gathered plants in flower, above 12,000 feet on the steep face of the Weiss-thor Pass, and at 10,938 feet on the top of St. Theodule; but in the former case the rocks are too steep for any snow to lie, they are exposed to the south-east, and overhang a gorge 8000 feet deep, up which no doubt warm currents ascend; while at St. Theodule the plants were growing on a slope which, though gentle, is black and stony, and exposed to warm ascending currents, as on the Weiss-thor; and I do not consider either of these as evidences of the limit of perpetual snow being higher than their position.] vary with those of the individual ranges, and their exposure to the south wind. The expression that the perpetual snow lies lower and deeper on the southern slopes of the Himalayan mountains than on the northern, conveys a false impression. It is better to say that the snow lies deeper and lower on the southern faces of the individual mountains and spurs that form the snowy Himalaya. The axis itself of the chain is generally far north of the position of the spurs that catch all the snow, and has comparatively very little snow on it, most of what there is lying upon north exposures.

A reference to the woodcut will show that the same circumstances which affect the distribution of moisture and vegetation, determine the position, amount, and duration of the snow. The principal fall will occur, as before shown, where the meridional range first attains a sufficiently great elevation, and the air becomes consequently cooled below 32 degrees; this is at a little above 14,000 feet, sporadic falls occurring even in summer at that elevation: these, however, melt immediately, and the copious winter falls also are dissipated before June. As the depth of rain-fall diminishes in advancing north to the higher parts of the meridional ranges, so does that of the snow-fall. The permanence of the snow, again, depends on--1. The depth of the accumulation; 2. The mean temperature of the spot; 3. The melting power of the sun's rays; 4. The prevalence and strength of evaporating winds. Now at 14,000 feet, though the accumulation is immense, the amount melted by the sun's rays is trifling, and there are no evaporating winds; but the mean temperature is so high, and the corroding powers of the rain (which falls abundantly throughout summer) and of the warm and humid ascending currents are so great, that the snow is not perennial. At 15,500 feet, again, it becomes perennial, and its permanence at this low elevation (at P) is much favoured by the accumulation and detention of fogs over the rank vegetation which prevails from S nearly to P; and by the lofty mountains beyond it, which shield it from the returning dry currents from the north. In proceeding north all the circumstances that tend to the dispersion of the snow increase, whilst the fall diminishes. At P the deposition is enormous and the snow-line low--16,000 feet; whilst at T little falls, and the limit of perpetual snow is 19,000 and 20,000 feet. Hence the anomaly, that the snow-line ascends in advancing north to the coldest Himalayan regions. The position of the greatest peaks and of the greatest mass of perpetual snow being generally assumed as indicating a ridge and watershed, travellers, arguing from single mountains alone, on the meridional ridges, have at one time supported and at another denied the assertion, that the snow lies longer and deeper on the north than on the south slope of the Himalayan ridge.

The great accumulation of snow at 15,000 feet, in the parallel of P, exercises a decided influence on the vegetation. The alpine rhododendrons hardly reach 14,000 feet in the broad valleys and round-headed spurs of the mountains of the Tunkra and Chola passes; whilst the same species ascend to 16,000, and one to 17,000 feet, at T. Beyond the latter point, again, the great aridity of the climate prevents their growth, and in Tibet there are generally none even as low as 12,000 and 14,000 feet. Glaciers, again, descend to 15,000 feet in the tortuous gorges which immediately debouch from the snows of Kinchinjunga, but no plants grow on the debris they carry down, nor is there any sward of grass or herbage at their base, the atmosphere immediately around being chilled by enormous accumulations of snow, and the summer sun rarely warming the soil. At T, again, the glaciers do not descend below 16,000 feet, but a greensward of vegetation creeps up to their bases, dwarf rhododendrons cover the moraines, and herbs grow on the patches of earth carried down by the latter, which are thawed by the more frequent sunshine, and by the radiation of heat from the unsnowed flanks of the valleys down which these ice-streams pour.

Looking eastward or westward on the map of India, we perceive that the phenomenon of perpetual snow is regulated by the same laws. From the longitude of Upper Assam in 95 degrees E to that of Kashmir in 75 degrees E, the lowest limit of perpetual snow is 15,500 to 16,000 feet, and a shrubby vegetation affects the most humid localities near it, at 12,000 to 14,000 feet. Receding from the plains of India and penetrating the mountains, the climate becomes drier, the snowline rises, and vegetation diminishes, whether the elevation of the land increases or decreases; plants reaching 17,000 and 18,000 feet, and the snow-line, 20,000 feet. To mention extreme cases; the snow-level of Sikkim in 27 degrees 30 minutes is at 16,000 feet, whereas in latitude 35 degrees 30 minutes Dr. Thomson found the snow line 20,000 feet on the mountains near the Karakoram Pass, and vegetation up to 18,500 feet--features I found to be common also to Sikkim in latitude 28 degrees.

The Himalaya, north of Nepal, and thence eastward to the bend of the Yaru-Tsampu (or Tibetan Burrampooter) has for its geographical limits the plains of India to the south, and the bed of the Yaru to the north. All between these limits is a mountain mass, to which Tibet (though so often erroneously called a plain)* [The only true account of the general features of eastern Tibet is to be found in MM. Huc and Gabet's travels. Their description agrees with Dr. Thomson's account of western Tibet, and with my experience of the parts to the north of Sikkim, and the information I everywhere obtained. The so-called _plains_ are the flat floors of the valleys, and the terraces on the margins of the rivers, which all flow between stupendous mountains. The term "maidan," so often applied to Tibet by the natives, implies, not a plain like that of India, but simply an open, dry, treeless country, in contrast to the densely wooded wet regions of the snowy Himalaya, south of Tibet.] forms no exception. The waters from the north side of this chain flow into the Tsampu, and those from the south side into the Burrampooter of Assam, and the Ganges. The line, however tortuous, dividing the heads of these waters, is the watershed, and the only guide we have to the axis of the Himalaya. This has never been crossed by Europeans, except by Captain Turner's embassy in 1798, and Captain Bogle's in 1779, both of which reached the Yaru river. In the account published by Captain Turner, the summit of the watershed is not rigorously defined, and the boundary, of Tibet and Bhotan is sometimes erroneously taken for it; the boundary being at that point a southern spur of Chumulari.* [Between Donkia and Chumulari lies a portion of Tibet (including the upper part of the course of the Machoo river) bounded on the east by Bhotan, and on the west by Sikkim (see chapter xxii). Turner, when crossing the Simonang Pass, descended westwards into the valley of the Machoo, and was still on the Indian watershed.] Eastwards from the sources of the Tsampu, the watershed of the Himalaya seems to follow a very winding course, and to be everywhere to the north of the snowy peaks seen from the plains of India. It is by a line through these snowy peaks that the axis of the Himalaya is represented in all our maps; because they _seem_ from the plains to be situated on an east and west ridge, instead of being placed on subsidiary meridional ridges, as explained above. It is also across or along the subsidiary ridges that the boundary line between the Tibetan provinces and those of Nepal, Sikkim, and Bhotan, is usually drawn; because the enormous accumulations of snow form a more efficient natural barrier than the greater height of the less snowed central part of the chain beyond them.

Though, however, our maps draw the axis through the snowy peaks, they also make the rivers to rise beyond the latter, on the northern slopes as it were, and to flow southwards through gaps in the axis. Such a feature is only reconcilable with the hypothesis of the chain being double, as the Cordillera of Peru and Chili is said to be, geographically, and which in a geological sense it no doubt is: but to the Cordillera the Himalaya offers no parallel. The results of Dr. Thomson's study of the north-west Himalaya and Tibet, and my own of the north-east extreme of Sikkim and Tibet, first gave me an insight into the true structure of this chain. Donkia mountain is the culminant point of an immensely elevated mass of mountains, of greater mean height than a similarly extensive area around Kinchin junga. It comprises Chumulari, and many other mountains much above 20,000 feet, though none equalling Kinchinjunga, Junnoo, and Kubra. The great lakes of Ramchoo and Cholamoo are placed on it; and the rivers rising on it flow in various directions; the Painomchoo north-west into the Yaru; the Arun west to Nepal; the Teesta south- west through Sikkim; the Machoo south, and the Pachoo south-east, through Bhotan. All these rivers have their sources far beyond the great snowed mountains, the Arun most conspicuously of all, flowing completely at the back or north of Kinchinjunga. Those that flow southwards, break through no chain, nor do they meet any contraction as they pass the snowy parts of the mountains which bound the valleys in which they flow, but are bound by uniform ranges of lofty mountains, which become more snowy as they approach the plains of India. These valleys, however, gradually contract as they descend, being less open in Sikkim and Nepal than in Tibet, though there bounded by rugged mountains, which from being so bare of snow and of vegetation, do not give the same impression of height as the isolated sharper peaks which rise out of a dense forest, and on which the snow limit is 4,000 or 5,000 feet lower.

The fact of the bottom of the river valleys being flatter towards the watershed, is connected with that of their fall being less rapid at that part of their course; this is the consequence of the great extent in breadth of the most elevated portion of the chain. If we select the Teesta as an example, and measure its fall at three points of its course, we shall find the results very different. From its principal source at Lake Cholamoo, it descends from 17,000 to 15,000 feet, with a fall of 60 feet to the mile; from 15,000 to 12,000 feet, the fall is 140 feet to the mile; in the third part of its course it descends from 12,000 to 5000 feet, with a fall of 160 feet to the mile; and in the lower part the descent is from 5000 feet to the plains of India at 300 feet, giving a fall of 50 feet to the mile. There is, however, no marked limit to these divisions; its valley. gradually contracts, and its course gradually becomes more rapid. It is worthy of notice that the fall is at its maximum through that part of its valley of which the flanks are the most loaded with snow; where the old moraines are very conspicuous, and where the present accumulations from landslips, etc., are the most extensive.* [It is not my intention to discuss here the geological bearings of this curious question; but I may state that as the humidity of the climate of the middle region of the river-course tends to increase the fall in a given space, so I believe the dryness of the climate of the loftier country has the opposite effect, by preserving those accumulations which have raised the floors of the valleys and rendered them level.]

With reference to Kinchinjunga, these facts are of importance, as showing that mere elevation is in physical geography of secondary importance. That lofty mountain rises from a spur of the great range of Donkia, and is quite removed from the watershed or axis of the Himalaya, the rivers which drain its northern and southern flanks alike flowing to the Ganges. Were the Himalaya to be depressed 18,000 feet, Kubra, Junnoo, Pundim, etc., would form a small cluster of rocky islands 1000 to 7000 feet high, grouped near Kinchinjunga, itself a cape 10,000 feet high, which would be connected by a low, marrow neck, with an extensive and mountainous tract of land to its north-east; the latter being represented by Donkia. To the north of Kinchin a deep bay or inlet would occupy the present valley of the Arun, and would be bounded on the north by the axis of the Himalaya, which would form a continuous tract of land beyond it. Since writing the above, I have seen Professor J. Forbes's beautiful work on the glaciers of Norway: it fully justifies a comparison of the Himalaya to Norway, which has long been a familiar subject of theoretical enquiry with Dr. Thomson and myself. The deep narrow valleys of Sikkim admirably represent the Norwegian fiords; the lofty, rugged, snowy mountains, those more or less submerged islands of the Norwegian coast; the broad rearward watershed, or axis of the chain, with its lakes, is the same in both, and the Yaru-tsampu occupies the relative position of the Baltic.

Along the whole chain of the Himalaya east of Kumaon there are, I have no doubt, a succession of such lofty masses as Donkia, giving off stupendous spurs such as that on which Kinchin forms so conspicuous a feature. In support of this view we find every river rising far beyond the snowy peaks, which are separated by continuously unsnowed ranges placed between the great white masses that these spurs present to the observer from the south.* [At vol. i.