The elevation being 12,080 feet, I was above the limit of trees, and the ground was covered with many kinds of small-flowered honeysuckles, berberry, and white rose.[[174]]
[174] Besides these I found a prickly Aralia, maple, two currants, eight or nine rhododendrons, many Sedums, Rhodiola, white Clematis, red-flowered cherry, birch, willow, Viburnum, juniper, a few ferns, two Andromedas, Menziesia, and Spircæa. And in addition to the herbs mentioned above, may be enumerated Parnassia, many Saxifrages, Soldanella, Draba, and various other Cruciferæ, Nardostachys, (spikenard), Epilobium, Thalictrum, and very many other genera, almost all typical of the Siberian, North European, and Arctic floras.
I saw no birds, and of animals only an occasional muskdeer. Insects were scarce, and quite different from what I had seen before; chiefly consisting of Phryganea (Mayfly) and some Carabidæ (an order that is very scarce in the Himalaya); with various moths, chiefly Geometræ.
The last days of June (as is often the case) were marked by violent storms, and for two days my tent proved no protection; similar weather prevailed all over India, the barometer falling very low. I took horary observations of the barometer in the height of the storm on the 30th: the tide was very small indeed (·024 inch, between 9.50 a.m. and 4 p.m.), and the thermometer ranged between 47° and 57·8°, between 7 a.m. and midnight. Snow fell abundantly as low as 13,000 feet, and the rivers were much swollen, the size and number of the stones they rolled along producing a deafening turmoil. Only 3·7 inches of rain fell between the 23rd of June and the 2nd of July; whilst 21 inches fell at Dorjiling, and 6·7 inches at Calcutta. During the same period the mean temperature was 48°; extremes, 62°/36.5°. The humidity was nearly at saturation-point, the wind southerly, very raw and cold, and drizzling rain constantly fell. A comparison of thirty observations with Dorjiling gave a difference of 14° temperature, which is at the rate of 1° for every 347 feet of ascent.[[175]]
[175] Forty-seven observations, comparative with Calcutta, gave 34·8° difference, and if 5.5° of temperature be deducted for northing in latitude, the result is 1° for every 412 feet of ascent. My observations at the junction of the rivers alt. 10,850 feet), during the early part of the mouth, gave 1° to 304 feet, as the result of twenty-four observations with Dorjiling, and 1° to 394 feet, from seventy-four observations with Calcutta.
The temperature of these rivers varies extremely at different parts of their course, depending on that of their affluents. The Teesta is always cool in summer (where its bed is below 2000 feet), its temperature being 20° below that of the air; whereas in mid-winter, when there is less cloud, and the snows are not melting, it is only a few degrees colder than the air.[[176]] At this season, in descending from 12,000 feet to 1000 feet, its temperature does not rise 10°, though that of the air rises 30° or 40°. It is a curious fact, that the temperature of the northern feeders of the Teesta, in some parts of their course, rises with the increasing elevation! Of this the Zemu afforded a curious example: during my stay at its junction with the Thlonok it was 46°, or 6° warmer than that river; at 1,100 feet higher it was 48°, and at 1,100 feet higher still it was 49°! These observations were repeated in different weeks, and several times on the same day, both in ascending and descending, and always with the same result: they told, as certainly as if I had followed the river to its source, that it rose in a drier and comparatively sunny climate, and flowed amongst little snowed mountains.
[176] During my sojourn at Bhomsong in mid-winter of 1848 (see v. i. [p. 305]), the mean temperature of the Teesta was 51°, and of the air 52·3°; at that elevation the river water rarely exceeds 60° at midsummer. Between 4000 feet and 300 (the plains) its mean temperature varies about 10° between January and July; at 6000 feet it varies from 55° to 43° during the same period; and at 10,000 feet it freezes at the edges in winter and rises to 50° in July.
Meanwhile, the Lachen Phipun continued to threaten us, and I had to send back some of the more timorous of my party. On the 28th of June fifty men arrived at the Thlonok, and turned my people out of the shed at the junction of the rivers, together with the plants they were preserving, my boards, papers, and utensils. The boys came to me breathless, saying that there were Tibetan soldiers amongst them, who declared that I was in Cheen, and that they were coming on the following morning to make a clean sweep of my goods, and drive me back to Dorjiling. I had little fear for myself, but was anxious with respect to my collections: it was getting late in the day, and raining, and I had no mind to go down and expose myself to the first brunt of their insolence, which I felt sure a night of such weather would materially wash away. Meepo was too frightened, but Nimbo, my Bhotan coolie Sirdar, volunteered to go, with two stout fellows; and he accordingly brought away my plants and papers, having held a parley with the enemy, who, as I suspected, were not Tibetans. The best news he brought was, that they were half clad and without food; the worst, that they swaggered and bullied: he added, with some pride, that he gave them as good as he got, which I could readily believe, Nimbo being really a resolute fellow,[[177]] and accomplished in Tibet slang.
[177] In East Nepal he drew his knife on a Ghorka sepoy; and in the following winter was bold enough to make his escape in chains from Tumloong.
On the following morning it rained harder than ever, and the wind was piercingly cold. My timid Lepchas huddled behind my tent, which, from its position, was only to be stormed in front. I dismantled my little observatory, and packed up the instruments, tied my dog, Kinchin, to one of the tent-pegs, placed a line of stones opposite the door, and seated myself on my bed on the ground, with my gun beside me.