It was not without an effort that one could descend from such elevating and inspiring delights to more material things, but over the coffee local matters of interest were discussed with our host. It appears that Darjeeling is becoming the centre of a great tea-producing district, and that India bids fair to rival China in a product which has seemed, from time immemorial, to belong to the latter country exclusively. English capitalists are buying up the land wholesale; and their agents, employing skilled labor, have already extensive tea plantations in full process of profitable yielding, and sending tea annually to market. At first it seemed strange to us to see the tea-plant flourishing at such altitudes, covering large reaches of the mountain sides; but the fact came to mind that the latitude of Darjeeling is about that of Florida and the West Indies, which solved the apparent incongruity. As to the product of these tea-fields, one could realize no difference in its flavor from that of the Chinese leaf. We were told that it brought a higher price in the European markets, being known as Assam tea. Cinchona was also being raised in the district to a considerable extent, and it was believed was specially adapted to the locality.
We ascended a high hill overlooking the valley and town of Darjeeling, and found upon its crest a sacred stone, where Buddhists had lately sacrificed some object which left the stains of blood, and where incense had recently been burned. It was in a primitive temple constructed of stones and stunted trees, surrounded by growing bushes. The neighboring branches of the trees were decked here and there with bits of red and blue cloth, which the guide explained as being Buddhist prayers. On some bits of paper adhering to the stones there were written characters which we could not understand, but which doubtless were invocations addressed to a superior power. From this elevation we enjoyed extensive and still different views of the Himalayas, and their diadems of frosted silver flaked with gold, while close at hand were seen the hundreds of thrifty tea plantations decking the sloping hill-sides. There are no roads at these extreme heights; it is all climbing to reach them, and the path so narrow that visitors advance only in single file.
Darjeeling is what is called in India a sanitarium; that is, a resort for Europeans from the plains during that portion of the year when it is too hot to reside in the cities. There is a fixed population of over three thousand. The viceroy's summer quarters are elegant and spacious, and there are churches, schools, and a club-room, with hospitals and barracks for army invalids. We saw groups of natives from the neighboring countries, lingering about the depot, quite willing to trade, and offering us their praying machines for filthy lucre. Some of these machines were of finely wrought silver and were expensive. In the centre of the town there is an open space devoted daily to an out-door bazar, where the itinerant traders spread a mat upon the ground and cover it with the articles which they wish to dispose of, seating themselves cross-legged on the ground by the side of their wares. Here we saw displayed copper coins from the neighboring countries, sweetmeats, fruit, beans, rice, betel-nuts, candles, baskets, and toys, besides heaps of various grains. Near the hotel there was an insignificant temple, at the entrance of which a hideous old woman was turning a big cylinder with a crank; a church praying machine. She seemed to have taken a contract to pray for the whole district, she worked so vigorously.
Some of the people in and about the neighborhood are of singular interest. One tribe was pointed out as belonging to the Sikkim race, known as Lepchas, who believe in spirits good and bad, but celebrate no religious rites. There were specimens of the Limboos, who are Buddhists, and whose out-door temple on the hill-top we had chanced upon. Again there were people known as Moormis, of large stature and originally from Tibet. The Nepal and Cashmere people were, small in size, compared to Europeans, but of hardy frames and stout limbs. These latter are very industrious and thrifty. There was some building of stone houses going on at Darjeeling, and some road making in the town; and it was observed that all carrying of stone, mortar, or other material, was performed by Cashmere or Nepal girls and women, who carry baskets of stone on their backs heavy enough to stagger an average American laborer. But these women, under such harsh usage, must become prematurely old.
After considerable hill climbing and exploration of the vicinity we started on our return to Calcutta, and having become acquainted with the grandeur of the scenery as a whole, were better prepared for closer observation in detail. It was all the way down hill now, and our spirited little engine, like a horse under similar circumstances, had more use for the breeching than the traces. However, the speed was a very lively one, and to the uninitiated appeared almost reckless. The pure white magnolia was found to be abundant on the mountain, blooming profusely at over seven thousand feet above the plains. Amid many other flowering trees, unknown to us, the magnolia was most prominent. The wild and abundant growth of the rhododendrons, which here become a forest tree, mingled with a handsome species of cedar, which rose in dark and stately groups, was a marked feature of the woods. The general luxuriance of the vegetation was conspicuous, thickly clothing the branches of the trees with mosses, ferns, and flowering creepers or orchids. Here we saw for the first time the cotton-tree, with red blossom, and which yields a coarse material for native use. A species of lotus was seen, called here "The Queen of the Forest." It belongs to the magnolia family, and the leaves are used by the common people in place of tea. Many bright and exquisitely delicate ferns sprang up among the undergrowth and about the watering stations. Brilliant little butterflies floated in the sunshine everywhere, and contrasted with the repulsive whip-snakes hanging here and there from the branches of the trees. Vegetable and animal life seemed singularly abundant in these hills, so far above the plains of Hindostan towards which we were hastening.
The language of the masses is rather mixed, being composed of Bengali, Hindi, and Nepalese, though English is almost universally understood, even by the humbler classes. We found a very comfortable hotel at Darjeeling, but discovered that the Hindoo milkman knows the trick of judiciously watering his merchandise. The fruits upon the table were bananas, pine-apples, guavas, and oranges. Wild animals are abundant in the hills, including the much-dreaded tiger, which does not confine his operations to the plains. At one of the stations on the mountain railroad, where we stopped for refreshments, a story of the most tragic character was told us of two children carried off and eaten by tigers the previous night. The demoralized condition of one of the poor families bore witness to the truth of the report. We listened to the very harrowing detail of the event, but will not weary the reader with it. The half-howl, half-bark of the jackals at night frequently awoke us. They carry off young kids in these regions, and do not hesitate to attack small dogs, but keep a wholesome distance from human beings.
One day and night upon the route—there are no sleeping-cars, so we did without them—brought us back to Calcutta, extremely gratified with our excursion to the Himalayas, and more than ever impressed with the distinctive character of each new locality. There are no two rivers alike, no two mountain ranges precisely similar, no two races of people that quite resemble each other. There is always some marked distinction to fix the new experience on the mind. Were this not the case, confusion would be the natural result of ten months of such varied travel as these notes are designed to record.