On the 1st of June we entered the Soormah, a full and muddy stream flowing west, a quarter of a mile broad, with banks of mud and clay twelve or fifteen feet high, separating it from marshes, and covered with betel-nut and cocoa-nut palms, figs, and banyans. Many small villages were scattered along the banks, each with a swarm of boats, and rude kilns for burning the lime brought from the Khasia mountains, which is done with grass and bushes. We ascended to Chattuc, against a gentle current, arriving on the 9th.
From this place the Khasia mountains are seen as a long table-topped range running east and west, about 4000 to 5000 feet high, with steep faces towards the Jheels, out of which they appear to rise abruptly. Though twelve miles distant, large waterfalls are very clearly seen precipitating themselves over the cliffs into a bright green mass of foliage, that seems to creep half way up their flanks. The nearly horizontal arrangement of the strata is as conspicuous here, as in the sandstone of the Kymore hills in the Soane valley, which these mountains a good deal resemble; but they are much higher, and the climate is widely different. Large valleys enter the hills, and are divided by hog-backed spurs, and it is far within these valleys that the waterfalls and precipices occur; but the nearer and further cliffs being thrown by perspective into one range, they seem to rise out of the Jheels so abruptly as to remind one of some precipitous island in the ocean.
Chattuc is mainly indebted for its existence to the late Mr. Inglis, who resided there for upwards of sixty years, and opened a most important trade between the Khasia and Calcutta in oranges, potatos, coal, lime, and timber. We were kindly received by his son, whose bungalow occupies a knoll, of which there are several, which attracted our attention as being the only elevations fifty feet high which we had ascended since leaving the foot of the Sikkim Himalaya. They rise as islets (commonly called Teela, Beng.) out of the Jheels, within twelve to twenty miles of the Khasia; they are chiefly formed of stratified gravel and sand, and are always occupied by villages and large trees. They seldom exceed sixty feet in height, and increase in number and size as the hills are approached; they are probably the remains of a deposit that was once spread uniformly along the foot of the mountains, and they in all respects resemble those I have described as rising abruptly from the plains near Titalya (see vol. i. chapter xvii).
The climate of Chattuc is excessively damp and hot throughout the year, but though sunk amid interminable swamps, the place is perfectly healthy! Such indeed is the character of the climate throughout the Jheels, where fevers and agues are rare; and though no situations can appear more malarious to the common observer than Silhet and Cachar, they are in fact eminently salubrious. These facts admit of no explanation in the present state of our knowledge of endemic diseases. Much may be attributed to the great amount and purity of the water, the equability of the climate, the absence of forests and of sudden changes from wet to dry; but such facts afford no satisfactory explanation. The water, as I have above said, is of a rich chesnut-brown in the narrow creeks of the Jheels, and is golden yellow by transmitted light, owing no doubt, as in bog water and that of dunghills, to a vegetable extractive and probably the presence of carburetted hydrogen. Humboldt mentions this dark-coloured water as prevailing in some of the swamps of the Cassiquares, at the junction of the Orinoco and Amazon, and gives much curious information on its accompanying features of animal and vegetable life.
The rains generally commence in May: they were unusually late this year, though the almost daily gales and thunder-storms we experienced, foretold their speedy arrival. From May till October they are unremitting, and the country is under water, the Soormah rising about fifty feet. North-easterly winds prevail, but they are a local current reflected from the Khasia, against which the southerly perennial trade-wind impinges. Westerly winds are very rare, but the dry north-west blasts of India have been known to traverse the delta and reach this meridian, in one or two short hot dry puffs during March and April. Hoarfrost is unknown.* [It however forms further south, at the very mouth of the Megna, and is the effect of intense radiation when the thermometer in the shade falls to 45 degrees.]
China roses and tropical plants (Bignoniae, Asclepiadeae, and Convolvuli) rendered Mr. Inglis' bungalow gay, but little else will grow in the gardens. Pine-apples are the best fruit, and oranges from the foot of the Khasia: plantains ripen imperfectly, and the mango is always acid, attacked by grubs, and having a flavour of turpentine. The violent hailstorms of the vernal equinox cut both spring and cold season flowers and vegetables, and the rains destroy all summer products. The soil is a wet clay, in which some European vegetables thrive well if planted in October or November. We were shown marrowfat peas that had been grown for thirty years without degenerating in size, but their flavour was poor.
Small long canoes, paddled rapidly by two men, were procured here, whereby to ascend the narrow rivers that lead up to the foot of the mountains: they each carry one passenger, who lies along the bottom, protected by a bamboo platted arched roof. We started at night, and early the next morning arrived at Pundua,* [Pundua, though an insignificant village, surrounded by swamps, has enjoyed an undue share of popularity as a botanical region. Before the geographical features of the country north of Silhet were known, the plants brought from those hills by native collectors were sent to the Calcutta garden (and thence to Europe) as from Pundua. Hence Silhet mountains and Pundua mountains, both very erroneous terms, are constantly met with in botanical works, and generally refer to plants growing in the Khasia mountains.] where there is a dilapidated bungalow: the inhabitants are employed in the debarkation of lime, coal, and potatos. Large fleets of boats crowded the narrow creeks, some of the vessels being of several tons burden.
Elephants were kindly sent here for us by Mr. H. Inglis, to take us to the foot of the mountains, about three miles distant, and relays of mules and ponies to ascend to Churra, where we were received with the greatest hospitality by that gentleman, who entertained us till the end of June, and procured us servants and collectors. To his kind offices we were also indebted throughout our travels in the Khasia, for much information, and for facilities and necessaries of all kinds: things in which the traveller is more dependent on his fellow countrymen in India, than in any other part of the world.
We spent two days at Pundua, waiting for our great boats (which drew several feet of water), and collecting in the vicinity. The old bungalow, without windows and with the roof falling in, was a most miserable shelter; and whichever way we turned from the door, a river or a swamp lay before us. Birds, mosquitos, leeches, and large wasps swarmed, also rats and sandflies. A more pestilential hole cannot be conceived; and yet people traverse this district, and sleep here at all seasons of the year with impunity. We did so ourselves in the month of June, when the Sikkim and all other Terais are deadly: we returned in September, traversing the Jheels and nullahs at the very foot of the hills during a short break of fine weather in the middle of the rains; and we again slept here in November,* [At the north foot of the Khasia, in the heavily timbered dry Terai stretching for sixty miles to the Burrampooter, it is almost inevitable death for a European to sleep, any time between the end of April and of November. Many have crossed that tract, but not one without taking fever: Mr. H. Inglis was the only survivor of a party of five, and he was ill from the effects for upwards of two years, after having been brought to death's door by the first attack, which came on within three weeks of his arrival at Churra, and by several relapses.] always exposed in the heat of the day to wet and fatigue, and never having even a soupcon of fever, ague, or rheumatism. This immunity does not, however, extend to the very foot of the hills, as it is considered imprudent to sleep at this season in the bungalow of Terrya, only three miles off.
The elevation of Pundua bungalow is about forty feet above the sea, and that of the waters surrounding it, from ten to thirty, according to the season. In June the mean of the barometer readings at the bungalow was absolutely identical with that of the Calcutta barometer, In September it was 0.016 inch lower, and in November 0.066 lower. The mean annual temperature throughout the Jheels is less than 2 degrees below that of Calcutta.