We were received with great kindness by the villagers of Yoksun, who had awaited our return with some anxiety, and on hearing of our approach had collected large supplies of food; amongst other things were tares (called by the Lepchas “Kullai”), yams (“Book”), and a bread made by bruising together damp maize and rice into tough thin cakes (“Ketch-ung tapha”). The Lamas of Doobdi were especially civil, having a favour to ask, which was that I would intercede with Dr. Campbell to procure the permission of the Nepalese to reopen the Kanglanamo pass, and thus give some occupation to their herds of yaks, which were now wandering idly about. I botanized for two days on the Yoksun flat, searching for evidence of lacustrine strata or moraines, being more than ever convinced by the views I had obtained of this place from Mon Lepcha, that its uniformity of surface was due to water action. It is certainly the most level area of its size that I know of in Sikkim, though situated in one of the deepest valleys, and surrounded on almost all sides by very steep mountains; and it is far above the flat gravel terraces of the present river-beds. I searched the surface of the flat for gravel beds in vain, for though it abounds in depressions that must have formerly been lake-beds, and are now marshes in the rainy season, these were all floored with clay. Along the western edge, where the descent is very steep for 1,800 feet to the Ratong, I found no traces of stratified deposits, though the spurs which projected from it were often flattened at top. The only existing lake has sloping clay banks, covered with spongy vegetable mould; it has no permanent affluent or outlet, its present drainage being subterranean, or more probably by evaporation; but there is an old water-channel several feet above its level. It is eighty to a hundred yards across, and nearly circular; its depth three or four feet, increased to fifteen or sixteen in the rains; like all similar pools in Sikkim, it contains little or no animal life at this season, and I searched in vain for shells, insects, or frogs. All around were great blocks of gneiss, some fully twelve feet square. The situation of this lake is very romantic, buried in a tall forest of oaks and laurels, and fringed by wild camellia shrubs; the latter are not the leafy, deep green, large-blossomed plants of our greenhouses, but twiggy bushes with small scattered leaves, and little yellowish flowers like those of the tea-plant. The massive walls of a ruined temple rise close to the water, which looks like the still moat of a castle: beside it are some grand old funereal cypresses, with ragged scattered branches below, where they struggle for light in the dense forest, but raising their heads aloft as bright green pyramids. [Illustration: Altar and song-boom at Yoksun]