Arrived on board we found a table spread ready on the quarter-deck and we had an excellent dinner—very superior to those provided by most of the hotels. After this meal was over the steamer started on its voyage across the wide river, having a strong electric search-light at the bows which threw a great shaft of white light to the opposite shore, along which it seemed to travel as if finding its way. Moths and flying insects fluttering into the beam of light flashed like sparks or fire-flies.
We found another train waiting for us at a station on the other bank. Here we got into sleeping compartments. I had an American bishop and his friend, a young man, as travelling companions. About 6 A.M. the next morning we reached the foot of the hills, where another change was necessary and where breakfast was to be had at the station, after which we packed ourselves and our belongings into the tiny carriages of the little narrow gauge, toy-like train which makes the ascent of 7000 feet to Darjeeling.
Starting about level, the ascent was quite gradual at first, the line winding through bamboo groves and tea plantations, and as it grows steeper the track twists up in S curves and loops, threading, like a steel snake, through umbrageous woodlands, sometimes following the road, sometimes crossing it. Among the many beautiful trees there was one of frequent occurrence which was new to us. It had something the manner of growth of an ash, but having a silvery bark like a birch, and clusters of large scarlet buds and flowers, without leaves. Some called it the “Forest Flame.” Many of the trees were hung with climbing plants, forming lovely tangles and festoons, and through the openings in the woods, here and there, we had glimpses of the plains veiled in the morning haze. Higher and higher the little train carried us, curving so sharply, sometimes, that one could see the little puffing engine in front, which had almost the effect, when rounding the sudden curves and loops, of some grotesque creature trying to catch its own tail, like a playful kitten or puppy!
THE DARJEELING TOY-RAILWAY TRYING TO CATCH ITS OWN TAIL!
At intervals the various attitudes attained were painted on tablets at the side of the rail, or at the little stations. At Siliguri a halt was made for tiffin. Here the Mongolian and Bhutian peasants came up to the railway carriages and offered us interesting things in the way of silver rings, and silver ornaments set with turquoise, and large turquoise earrings of a fine bold design. The women all wore relic or charm-boxes with lids worked in delicate filigree and set with turquoise, and these were suspended by bead necklaces. Silver chatelaines and other charming ornaments were shown us, the women carrying the stock-in-trade of jewellery upon their persons. The high cheekbones and narrow eyes, black hair and long pig-tails of the Mongolian were very marked, the men having quite a Chinese look, with their soft felt, turned-up inverted cup-and-saucer-shaped hats and pig-tails. The women had broad, smiling faces, the effect of which was heightened by a kind of bright brown varnish which made their faces look as if they had been French polished—perhaps to suit somebody’s furniture?—their hair was intensely black, and they wore two long plaits or pig-tails.
The huts of the villages were of wood, and the original native roofing was of thin wooden shingles, which harmonised perfectly with the scenery; but unfortunately corrugated iron was being extensively substituted for roofing purposes, and the old thatch or wooden shingles were frequently patched with it. At Darjeeling it was almost universal, and in consequence the buildings might be described as tin and temporary. Here and there was a fantastic, but generally not tasteful, touch of Germany, or the Swiss border, in the modern villa. Little toy-like dwellings are scattered along the mountain-sides in an accidental sort of way, as if they had been upset out of a box, and had stuck here and there among the trees in their fall.
English suburban names catch the eye—at Darjeeling—such as “Daisy Bank” and “Rose Cottage.” The Europeans come out from Calcutta in the hot season to dwell here. The huts of the native people look very frail, almost like card-houses, leaning up against each other on the edges of cliffs, their roofs of ragged matting, straw thatch, or thin wooden shingles, or the corrugated iron aforesaid. Tall, tapering bamboo canes are frequently stuck up outside, bearing vertical strips of white cotton or linen cloth, like standards, with light tags of the same fluttering at intervals from their outer edges. These are said to represent prayers, and are supposed to ward off evil influences.
We put up at “Woodlands” hotel, which has a pretty walk up from the station, lined with fine old trees of the pine kind, very thick and dark, and having a slender cone-like form, reminding one of cypresses. These abound all down the mountain-sides, but are now in danger of being thinned too freely. The mountain-sides are intersected with paths, and terraced bridle roads, along which are perched the dwellings, above or below the road. As one rides up one can look almost perpendicularly down upon the tin roofs and into the little gardens, as these paths almost double back on themselves at different heights, as they wind up the hills.
The manager and proprietor of “Woodlands” was an Italian by birth, but he spoke English like a native. He was one of an expedition which attempted to climb the Kinchin Junga (18,000 feet), a great snow peak of the Himalayas, which is conspicuous from Darjeeling when the clouds disclose the view of the wonderful snow-clad range.