THIBETANS, AS SEEN AT DARJEELING.
VIEW OF THE HIMALAYAS, AS SEEN FROM DARJEELING.
Darjeeling is so near Thibet, Nepal, Sikkim and Bhutan that one finds here a motley variety of types and sees something of the native life of the forbidden land that stretches along the northern border of India. The mountain tribes are sturdier in build, coarser in feature and lighter in color than the people of the lowlands, and we saw some types that strongly resembled the American Indian.
But to return to the mountains themselves; the view from Darjeeling is unsurpassed. The Kinchinjunga Peaks rise to a height of 28,156 feet above the sea, or nearly twice as high as Pike's Peak, and though forty-five miles distant, are clear and distinct. The summits, seen above the clouds, seem to have no terrestrial base, but hang as if suspended in mid air. The best view is obtained from Tiger Hill, six miles from Darjeeling and two thousand feet higher. We made this trip one morning, rising at three o'clock, and reaching the observation point a little before sunrise. I wish I were able to convey to the reader the impression made upon us.
While all about us was yet in darkness, the snowy robe which clothes the upper twelve thousand feet of the range, caught a tint of pearl from the first rays of the sun, and, as we watched, the orb of day, rising like a ruby globe from a lake of dark blue mist, gilded peak after peak until at last we saw Mt. Everest, earth's loftiest point, one hundred and twenty miles away and nearly a thousand feet higher than Kinchinjunga. We saw the shadows fleeing from the light like hunted culprits and hiding in the deep ravines, and we marked the triumph of the dawn as it swept down the valleys.
How puny seem the works of man when brought into comparison with majestic nature! His groves, what pigmies when measured against the virgin forest! His noblest temples, how insignificant when contrasted with the masonry of the hills! What canvas can imitate the dawn and sunset! What inlaid work can match the mosaics of the mountains!
Is it blind chance that gives these glimpses of the sublime? And was it blind chance that clustered vast reservoirs about inaccessible summits and stored water to refresh the thirsty plains through hidden veins and surface streams?
No wonder man from the beginning of history has turned to the heights for inspiration, for here is the spirit awed by the infinite and here one sees both the mystery of creation and the manifestations of the Father's loving kindness. Here man finds a witness, unimpeachable though silent, to the omnipotence, the omniscience and the goodness of God.