We encamped amongst Rhododendrons, on a spongy soil of black vegetable matter, so oozy, that it was difficult to keep the feet dry. The rain poured in torrents all the evening, and with the calm, and the wetness of the wood, prevented our enjoying a fire. Except a transient view into Nepal, a few miles west of us, nothing was to be seen, the whole mountain being wrapped in dense masses of vapour. Gusts of wind, not felt in the forest, whistled through the gnarled and naked tree-tops; and though the temperature was 50°, this wind produced cold to the feelings. Our poor Lepchas were miserably off, but always happy: under four posts and a bamboo-leaf thatch, with no covering but a single thin cotton garment, they crouched on the sodden turf, joking with the Hindoos of our party, who, though supplied with good clothing and shelter, were doleful companions. I made a shed for my instruments under a tree; Mr. Barnes, ever active and ready, floored the tent with logs of wood, and I laid a “corduroy road” of the same to my little observatory. During the night the rain did not abate; and the tent-roof leaked in such torrents, that we had to throw pieces of wax-cloth over our shoulders as we lay in bed. There was no improvement whatever in the weather on the following morning. Two of the Hindoos had crawled into the tent during the night, attacked with fever and ague.[62] The tent being too sodden to be carried, we had to remain where we were, and with abundance of novelty in the botany around, I found no difficulty in getting through the day. Observing the track of sheep, we sent two Lepchas to follow them, who returned at night from some miles west in Nepal, bringing two. The shepherds were Geroongs of Nepal, who were grazing their flocks on a grassy mountain top, from which the woods had been cleared, probably by fire. The mutton was a great boon to the Lepchas, but the Hindoos would not touch it, and several more sickening during the day, we had the tent most uncomfortably full. [62] It is a remarkable fact, that both the natives of the plains, under many circumstances, and the Lepchas when suffering from protracted cold and wet, take fever and ague in sharp attacks. The disease is wholly unknown amongst Europeans residing above 4000 feet, similar exposure in whom brings on rheumatism and cold. During the whole of the 22nd, from 7 a.m. to 11 p.m., the thermometer never varied 6·5°, ranging from 47·5 in the morning to 54°, its maximum, at 1 p.m., and 50·75 at night. At seven the following morning it was the same. One, sunk two feet six inches in mould and clay, stood constantly at 50·75. The dew-point was always below the temperature, at which I was surprised, for more drenching weather could not well be. The mean dew-point was 50·25, and consequent humidity, 0·973.