Himalayan Journals — Volume 1: Or, Notes of a Naturalist in Bengal, the Sikkim and Nepal Himalayas, the Khasia Mountains, etc.Hooker, Joseph Dalton
History
Himalayan Journals — Volume 1: Or, Notes of a Naturalist in Bengal, the Sikkim and Nepal Himalayas, the Khasia Mountains, etc.
Hooker, Joseph Dalton
Himalaya Mountains -- Description and travel; Natural history -- Himalaya Mountains
The firmament appeared of a pale steel blue, and a broad low arch
spanned the horizon, bounded by a line of little fleecy clouds
(moutons); below this the sky was of a golden yellow, while in
successively deeper strata, many belts or ribbons of vapour appeared
to press upon the plains, the lowest of which was of a dark leaden
hue, the upper more purple, and vanishing into the pale yellow above.
Though well defined, there was no abrupt division between the belts,
and the lowest mingled imperceptibly with the hazy horizon.
Gradually the golden lines grew dim, and the blues and purples gained
depth of colour; till the sun set behind the dark-blue peaked
mountains in a flood of crimson and purple, sending broad beams of
grey shade and purple light up to the zenith, and all around.
As evening advanced, a sudden chill succeeded, and mists rapidly
formed immediately below me in little isolated clouds, which
coalesced and spread out like a heaving and rolling sea, leaving
nothing above their surface but the ridges and spurs of the adjacent
mountains. These rose like capes, promontories, and islands, of the
darkest leaden hue, bristling with pines, and advancing boldly into
the snowy white ocean, or starting from its bed in the strongest
relief. As darkness came on, and the stars arose, a light fog
gathered round me, and I quitted with reluctance one of the most
impressive and magic scenes I ever beheld.
Returning to my tent, I was interested in observing how well my
followers had accommodated themselves to their narrow circumstances.
Their fires gleamed everywhere amongst the trees, and the people,
broken up into groups of five, presented an interesting picture of
native, savage, and half-civilised life. I wandered amongst them in
the darkness, and watched unseen their operations; some were cooking,
with their rude bronzed faces lighted up by the ruddy glow, as they
peered into the pot, stirring the boiling rice with one hand, while
with the other they held back their long tangled hair. Others were
bringing water from the spring below, some gathering sprigs of
fragrant _Artemisia_ and other shrubs to form couches--some lopping
branches of larger trees to screen them from nocturnal radiation;
their only protection from the dew being such branches stuck in the
ground, and slanting over their procumbent forms. The Bhotanese were
rude and boisterous in their pursuits, constantly complaining to the
Sirdars, and wrangling over their meals. The Ghorkas were sprightly,
combing their raven hair, telling interminably long stories, of which
money was the burthen, or singing Hindoo songs through their noses in
chorus; and being neater and better dressed, and having a servant to
cook their food, they seemed quite the gentlemen of the party.
Still the Lepcha was the most attractive, the least restrained, and
the most natural in all his actions, the simplest in his wants and
appliances, with a bamboo as his water-jug, an earthen-pot as his
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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