Himalayan Journals, vol 2, J. D. Hooker [small books to read txt] 📗

render a tract, which in such a climate and latitude should be

clothed with exuberant forest, so sterile, that no tree finds

support, and there is no soil for cultivation of any kind whatsoever, not even of rice. Owing, however, to the hardness of the horizontally stratified sandstone, the streams have not cut deep channels, nor

have the cataracts worked far back into the cliffs. The limestone

alone seems to suffer, and the turbid streams from it prove how

rapidly it is becoming denuded. The great mounds of angular gravel on the Churra flat, are perhaps the remains of an extensive deposit,

fifty feet thick, elsewhere washed away by these rains; and I have

remarked traces of the same over many slopes of the hills around.

The mean temperature of Churra (elev. 4000 feet) is about 66 degrees, or 16 degrees below that of Calcutta; which, allowing for 22 degrees of northing, gives 1 degree of temperature to every 290 to 300 feet of ascent. In summer the thermometer often rises to 88 degrees and 90

degrees; and in the winter, owing to the intense radiation,

hoar-frost is frequent. Such a climate is no less inimical to the

cultivation of plants, than is the wretched soil: of this we saw

marked instances in the gardens of two of the resident officers,

Lieutenants Raban and Cave, to whom we were indebted for the greatest kindness and hospitality. These gentlemen are indefatigable

horticulturists, and took a zealous interest in our pursuits,

accompanying us in our excursions, enriching our collections in many ways, and keeping an eye to them and to our plant-driers during our absence from the station. In their gardens the soil had to be brought from a considerable distance, and dressed copiously with vegetable

matter. Bamboo clumps were planted for shelter within walls, and

native shrubs, rhododendrons, etc., introduced. Many Orchideae

throve well on the branches of the stunted trees which they had

planted, and some superb kinds of Hedychium in the ground; but a

very few English garden plants throve in the flower-beds. Even in

pots and frames, geraniums, etc., would rot, from the rarity of

sunshine, which is as prejudicial as the damp and exposure.

Still many wild shrubs of great interest and beauty flourished, and some European ones succeeded with skill and management; as geraniums, Salvia, Petunia, nasturtium, chrysanthemum, _Kennedya rubicunda,

Maurandya,_ and Fuchsia. The daisy seed sent from England as double, came up very poor and single. Dahlias do not thrive, nor double

balsams. Now they have erected small but airy green-houses, and

sunlight is the only desideratum.

At the end of June, we started for the northern or Assam face of the mountains. The road runs between the extensive and populous native

village, or poonji, on the left, and a deep valley on the right, and commands a beautiful view of more waterfalls. Beyond this it ascends steeply, and the sandstone on the road itself is curiously divided

into parallelograms, like hollow bricks,* [I have seen similar bricks in the sandstones of the coal-districts of Yorkshire; they are very puzzling, and are probably due to some very obscure crystalline

action analogous to jointing and cleavage.] enclosing irregularly

shaped nodules, while in other places it looks as if it had been run or fused: spherical concretions of sand, coloured concentrically by infiltration, are common in it, which have been regarded as seeds,

shells, etc.; it also contained spheres of iron pyrites. The general appearance of much of this rock is as if it had been bored by

Teredines (ship worms), but I never detected any trace of fossils.

It is often beautifully ripple-marked, and in some places much

honeycombed, and full of shales and narrow seams of coal, resting on a white under-clay full of root-fibres, like those of Stigmaria.

At about 5000 feet the country is very open and bare, the ridges

being so uniform and flat-topped, that the broad valleys they divide are hidden till their precipitous edges are reached; and the eye

wanders far east and west over a desolate level grassy country,

unbroken, save by the curious flat-topped hills I have described as belonging to the limestone formation, which lie to the south-west.

These features continue for eight miles, when a sudden descent of 600

or 700 feet, leads into the valley of the Kala-panee (Black water)

river, where there is a very dark and damp bungalow, which proved a very great accommodation to us.* [It may be of use to the future

botanist in this country to mention a small wood on the right of this road, near the village of Surureem, as an excellent botanical

station: the trees are chiefly Rhododendron arboreum, figs, oaks, laurels, magnolias, and chestnuts, on whose limbs are a profusion of Orchideae, and amongst which a Rattan palm occurs.

Lailang-kot is another village full of iron forges, from a height

near which a splendid view is obtained over the Churra flat. A few

old and very stunted shrubs of laurel and Symplocos grow on its

bleak surface, and these are often sunk from one to three feet in a well in the horizontally stratified sandstone. I could only account for this by supposing it to arise from the drip from the trees, and if so, it is a wonderful instance of the wearing effects of water,

and of the great age which small bushes sometimes attain.

The vegetation is more alpine at Kala-panee (elevation, 5,300 feet); _Benthamia, Kadsura, Stauntonia, Illicium, Actinidia, Helwingia,

Corylopsis,_ and berberry--all Japan and Chinese, and most of them

Dorjiling genera--appear here, with the English yew, two

rhododendrons, and Bucklandia. There are no large trees, but a

bright green jungle of small ones and bushes, many of which are very rare and curious. Luculia Pinceana makes a gorgeous show here

in October.

The sandstone to the east of Kala-panee is capped by some beds, forty feet thick, of conglomerate worn into cliffs; these are the remains of a very extensive horizontally stratified formation, now all but

entirely denuded. In the valley itself, the sandstone alternates with alum shales, which rest on a bed of quartz conglomerate, and the

latter on black greenstone. In the bed of the river, whose waters are beautifully clear, are hornstone rocks, dipping north-east, and

striking north-west. Beyond the Kalapanee the road ascends about 600

feet, and is well quarried in hard greenstone; and passing through a narrow gap of conglomerate rock,* [Formed of rolled masses of

greenstone and sandstone, united by a white and yellow cement.]

enters a shallow, wild, and beautiful valley, through which it runs for several miles. The hills on either side are of greenstone capped by tabular sandstone, immense masses of which have been precipitated on the floor of the valley, producing a singularly wild and

picturesque scene. In the gloom of the evening it is not difficult

for a fertile imagination to fancy castles and cities cresting the

heights above.* [Hydrangea grows here, with ivy, _Mussoenda,

Pyrua, willow, _Viburnum, Parnassia, Anemone, Leycesteria formosa, Neillia, Rubus, Astilbe, rose, Panax, apple, Bucklandia, Daphne,

pepper, Scindapsus, Pierix, holly, Lilium giganteum ("Kalang

tatti," Khas.), Camellia, Elaeocarpus, Buddleia, etc. Large bees'

nests hang from the rocks.]

There is some cultivation here of potatoes, and of _Rhysicosia

vestita_ a beautiful purple-flowered leguminous plant, with small

tuberous roots. Beyond this, a high ridge is gained above the valley of the Boga-panee, the largest river in the Khasia; from this the

Bhotan Himalaya may be seen in clear weather, at the astonishing

distance of from 160 to 200 miles! The vegetation here suddenly

assumes a different aspect, from the quantity of stunted fir-trees

clothing the north side of the valley, which rises very steeply 1000

feet above the river: quite unaccountably, however, not one grows on the south face. A new oak also appears abundantly; it has leaves like the English, whose gnarled habit it also assumes.

The descent is very steep, and carried down a slope of greenstone;*

[This greenstone decomposes into a thick bed of red clay; it is much intersected by fissures or cleavage planes at all angles, whose

surfaces are covered with a shining polished superficial layer; like the fissures in the cleavage planes of the gneiss granite of

Kinchinjhow, whose adjacent surfaces are coated with a glassy waved layer of hornblende. This polishing of the surfaces is generally

attributed to their having been in contact and rubbed together, an

explanation which is wholly unsatisfactory to me; no such motion

could take place in cleavage planes which often intersect, and were it to occur, it would not produce two polished surfaces of an

interposed layer of a softer mineral. It is more probably due to

metamorphic action.] the road then follows. a clear affluent of the Boga-panee, and afterwards winds along the margin of that river,

which is a rapid turbulent stream, very muddy, and hence contrasting remarkably with the Kala-panee. It derives its mud from the

decomposition of granite, which is washed by the natives for iron,

and in which rock it rises to the eastward. Thick beds of slate crop out by the roadside (strike north-east and dip north-west), and are continued along the bed of the river, passing into conglomerates,

chert, purple slates, and crystalline sandstones, with pebbles, and angular masses of schist. Many of these rocks are much crumpled,

others quite flat, and they are overlaid by soft, variegated gneiss, which is continued alternately with the slates to the top of the

hills on the opposite side.

Small trees of hornbeam grow near the river, with Rhus, Xanthoxylon, Vaccinium, Gualtheria, and Spiraea, while many beautiful ferns,

mosses, and orchids cover the rocks. An elegant iron suspension-

bridge is thrown across the stream, from a rock matted with tufts of little parasitic Orchideae. Crossing it, we came on many

pine-trees; these had five-years' old cones on them, as well as those of all succeeding years; they bear male flowers in autumn, which

impregnate the cones formed the previous year. Thus, the cones formed in the spring of 1850 are fertilised in the following autumn, and do not ripen their seeds till the second following autumn, that of 1852.

A very steep ascent leads to the bungalow of Moflong, on a broad,

bleak hill-top, near the axis of the range (alt. 6,062 feet). Here

there is a village, and some cultivation, surrounded by hedges of

Erythrina, Pieris, Viburnum, Pyres, Colquhounia, and

Corylopsis, amongst which grew an autumn-flowering lark-spur, with most foetid flowers.* [There is a wood a mile to the west of the

bungalow, worth visiting by the botanist: besides yew, oak, Sabia

and Camellia, it contains Olea, Euonymus, and Sphaerocarya, a small tree that bears a green pear-shaped sweet fruit, with a large stone: it is pleasant, but leaves a disagreeable taste in the mouth.

On the grassy flats an Astragalus occurs, and _Roscoea purpurea,

Tofieldia,_ and various other fine plants are common.] The rocks are much contorted slates and gneiss (strike north-east and dip

south-east). In a deep gulley to the northward, greenstone appears, with black basalt and jasper, the latter apparently altered gneiss: beyond this the rocks strike the opposite way, but are much disturbed.

We passed the end of June here, and experienced the same violent

weather, thunder, lightning, gales, and rain, which prevailed during every midsummer I spent in India. A great deal of Coix (Job's

tears) is cultivated about Moflong: it is of a dull greenish purple, and though planted in drills, and carefully hoed and weeded, is a

very ragged crop. The shell of the cultivated sort is soft, and the kernel is sweet; whereas the wild Coix is so hard that it cannot be broken by the teeth. Each plant branches two or three times from the base, and from seven to nine plants grow in each