Thus we crept stealthily upwards, through the long morning hours.
After Gyabari, we reached the "Goompties," or long zigzags on the sides of the hill, and then came in quick succession several "reversing stations." Here the train goes backwards and forwards in short zigzags, helping us to rise some hundred feet in a very few minutes. How wonderful the Australians think their three zigzags on the Blue Mountains. What would they say to these? Again, further on, we described a perfect figure of 8. But our twistings and curvings were so wonderful, that at last we seemed to grow accustomed to see the line we were to pass just above us, the line we had passed just below.
Many and many were the so-called "agony points," where the carriage was projecting over the precipice, so close the rail was laid to the edge; some were rendered more excruciatingly anxious by the train taking a sharp curve on this precarious foothold.
It is a grand and exalted feeling that takes possession of you now, when you have lost sight of the plain, and the work-a-day life being carried on there, when you are alone looking down into the spur ranges, a tumultuous mass of peaks below, and then raise the eye to the storm-beaten ones above, so near the sky as to be known only to the eye of their Creator. The Himalayas, meaning in Sanskrit the "abode of snow," are the grandest mountain-wall that Nature has ever raised.
It was becoming keenly cold. What was our agony to see creeping down the mountain-side a wall of fog and mist. We passed into the cloud, and gloom and dampness enveloped us. Darjeeling, we are always told, is "up in the clouds," and we anxiously thought how it might remain so in reality during our stay there. Our enthusiasm was suddenly quenched, and our disappointment very keen at losing all the glorious views—wiped out so ruthlessly in those few seconds. For the remainder of the journey clouds swept around us, lifting occasionally for a minute to show us the valley, where more clouds lay floating below.
We had luncheon, at an elevation of 4000 feet, at Kursiong, where the platform runs alongside of the neat hotel. At Sonadah we did not grumble at the fog so much, for at all times the air here is thick and cold, from the condensed moisture of the vast forests that cover the western slopes of Mount Sinchul.
Up and up we climbed, the temperature rapidly falling and the cold ever increasing. The rails became greasy from the moisture, and necessitated constant stoppages to allow of the zemyndras running in front with handfuls of sand.
Occasionally we passed through the midst of some very dirty bazaar, or settlement of tumble-down huts, crowded together for warmth, and the mutual support afforded to the mud and bamboo-framed walls, which prevail even in these high latitudes. Here live the picturesque and varied mountain tribes belonging to the frontier provinces around Darjeeling, a sturdy, independent population. There are the tall Bhooteas, the short and stunted Lepchas and Limboos, Nepaulese, Cabulese, and stalwart Thibetans, dashing by on their hardy mountain ponies. For the time being, with the cold atmosphere, and amongst these hardy northern tribes, we feel transported into Norway, Lapland, or Finland.
The Lepchas, the aboriginals of Sikkim, are the most picturesque among the medley of races. They are of very small stature, and thick-set frame, with a broad, flat face, oblique eyes, and high cheek-bones. The men wear their coarse black hair in one pigtail, and the women in two—often the only distinguishing feature between the sexes. The Lepcha is an arrant coward, but a born naturalist, and has a name for every shrub and plant in Sikkim. Their dress consists "of a robe of blue and white-striped cloth, woven by the women, crossed over the breast, and gathered in with an ornamented girdle." Into this is stuck the kukerie, or short sword, which none are without. They wear a coloured woollen comforter wound around their caps; and altogether their dwarf stature, flattened faces, and excessive dirt remind one of the Laplanders.
The Limboos can always be known by their mass of black uncombed hair, hanging in elfin locks about their yellow faces. They are gross feeders, being particularly fond of pork.