Himalayan Journals, vol 2 by J. D. Hooker (android pdf ebook reader TXT) 📕

on horseback like the Western Tibetans. A fine black

varnish from the fruit of Holigarna longifolia, is imported from

Munnipore, as is another made from Sesuvium Anacardium

(marking-nut), and a remarkable black pigment resembling that from

Melanorhoea usitatissima, which is white when fresh, and requires to be kept under water.* [This turns of a beautiful black colour when applied to a surface, owing, according to Sir D. Brewster, to the

fresh varnish consisting of a congeries of minute organised

particles, which disperse the rays of light in all directions; the

organic structure is destroyed when the varnish dries and the rays of light are consequently transmitted.]

One fine moonlight night we went to see a Munnipore dance. A large

circular area was thatched with plantain leaves, growing on their

trunks, which were stuck in the ground; and round the enclosure was a border neatly cut from the white leaf-sheaths of the same tree.

A double enclosure of bamboo, similarly ornamented, left an inner

circle for the performers, and an outer for the spectators: the whole was lighted with oil lamps and Chinese paper lanterns. The musicians sat on one side, with cymbals, tomtoms, and flutes, and sang choruses.

The performances began by a copper-coloured Cupid entering and

calling the virgins with a flute; these appeared from a green-room, to the number of thirty or forty, of all ages and sizes. Each had her hair dressed in a topknot, and her head covered with a veil; a

scarlet petticoat loaded with tinsel concealed her naked feet, and

over this was a short red kirtle, and an enormous white shawl was

swathed round the body from the armpits to the waist. A broad belt

passed over the right shoulder and under the left arm, to which hung gold and silver chains, corals, etc., with tinsel and small mirrors sewed on everywhere: the arms and hands were bare, and decorated with bangles and rings.

Many of the women were extremely tall, great stature being common

amongst the Munniporees. They commenced with a prostration to Cupid, around whom they danced very slowly, with the arms stretched out, and the hands in motion; at each step the free foot was swung backwards and forwards. Cupid then chose a partner, and standing in the middle went through the same motions, a compliment the women acknowledged by curtseying and whirling round, making a sort of cheese with their

petticoats, which, however, were too heavy to inflate properly.

The Nagas are another people found on this frontier, chiefly on the hills to the north: they are a wild, copper-coloured, uncouth jungle tribe, who have proved troublesome on the Assam frontier.

Their features are more Tartar than those of the Munniporees,

especially amongst the old men. They bury their dead under the

threshold of their cottages. The men are all but naked, and stick

plumes of hornbills' feathers in their hair, which is bound with

strips of bamboo: tufts of small feathers are passed through their

ears, and worn as shoulder lappets. A short blue cotton cloth, with a fringe of tinsel and tufts of goat's hair dyed red, is passed over

the loins in front only: they also wear brass armlets, and necklaces of cowries, coral, amber, ivory, and boar's teeth. The women draw a fringed blue cloth tightly across the breast, and wear a checked or striped petticoat. They are less ornamented than the men, and are

pleasing looking; their hair is straight, and cut short over

the eyebrows.

The Naga dances are very different from those of the Munniporees;

being quick, and performed in excellent time to harmonious music.

The figures are regular, like quadrilles and country-dances: the men hold their knives erect during the performance, the women extend

their arms only when turning partners, and then their hands are not given, but the palms are held opposite. The step is a sort of polka and balancez, very graceful and lively. A bar of music is always

played first, and at the end the spectators applaud with two short

shouts. Their ear for music, and the nature of their dance, are as

Tibetan as their countenances, and different from those of the

Indo-Chinese tribes of the frontier.

We had the pleasure of meeting Lieutenant Raban at Silchar, and of

making several excursions in the neighbourhood with him; for which

Colonel Lister here, as at Churra, afforded us every facility of

elephants and men. Had we had time, it was our intention to have

visited Munnipore, but we were anxious to proceed to Chittagong.

I however made a three days' excursion to the frontier, about thirty miles distant, proceeding along the north bank of the Soormah. On the way my elephant got bogged in crossing a deep muddy stream: this is sometimes an alarming position, as should the animal become

terrified, he will seize his rider, or pad, or any other object

(except his driver), to place under his knees to prevent his sinking.

In this instance the driver in great alarm ordered me off, and I had to flounder out through the black mud. The elephant remained fast all night, and was released next morning by men with ropes.

The country continued a grassy level, with marshes and rice

cultivation, to the first range of hills, beyond which the river is unnavigable; there also a forest commences, of oaks, figs, and the

common trees of east Bengal. The road hence was a good one, cut by

Sepoys across the dividing ranges, the first of which is not 500 feet high. On the ascent bamboos abound, of the kind called Tuldah or

Dulloah, which has long very thin-walled joints; it attains no great size, but is remarkably gregarious. On the east side of the range,

the road runs through soft shales and beds of clay, and

conglomerates, descending to a broad valley covered with gigantic

scattered timber-trees of jarool, acacia, Diospyros, Urticeae, and Bauhiniae, rearing their enormous trunks above the bamboo jungle: immense rattan-canes wound through the forest, and in the gullies

were groves of two kinds of tree-fern, two of Areca, Wallichia

palm, screw-pine, and Dracaena. Wild rice grew abundantly in the

marshes, with tal1 grasses; and Cardiopteris* [A remarkable plant of unknown affinity; see Brown and Bennett, "Flora Java:" it is found in the Assam valley and Chittagong.] covered the trees for upwards of sixty feet, like hops, with a mass of pale-green foliage, and dry

white glistening seed-vessels. This forest differed from those of the Silhet and Khasia mountains, especially in the abundance of bamboo

jungle, which is, I believe, the prevalent feature of the low hills in Birmah, Ava, and Munnipore; also in the gigantic size of the

rattans, 1arger palms, and different forest trees, and in the scanty undergrowth of herbs and bushes. I only saw, however, the skirts of the forest; the mountains further east, which I am told rise several thousand feet in limestone cliffs, are doubtless richer in

herbaceous plants.

The climate of Cachar partakes of that of the Jheels in its damp

equable character: during our stay the weather was fine, and dense

fogs formed in the morning: the mean maximum was 80 degrees, minimum 58.4 degrees.* [The temperature does not rise above 90 degrees in

summer, nor sink below 45 degrees or 50 degrees in January:

forty-seven comparative observations with Calcutta showed the mean

temperature to be 1.8 degrees lower at Silchar, and the air damper, the saturation point being, at Calcutta 0.3791, at Silchar 0.4379.]

The annual rain-fall in 1850 was 111.60 inches, according to a

register kindly given me by Captain Verner. There are few mosquitos, which is one of the most curious facts in the geographical

distribution of these capricious bloodsuckers; for the locality is

surrounded by swamps, and they swarm at Silhet, and on the river

lower down. Both on the passage up and down, we were tormented in our canoes by them for eighty or ninety miles above Silhet, and thence

onwards to Cachar we were free.

On the 30th of November, we were preparing for our return to Silhet, and our canoes were loading, when we were surprised by a loud rushing noise, and saw a high wave coming down the river, swamping every boat that remained on its banks, whilst most of those that pushed out into the stream, escaped with a violent rocking. It was caused by a slip of the bank three quarters of a mile up the stream, of no great size, but which propagated a high wave. This appeared to move on at about the rate of a mile in three or four minutes, giving plenty of time

for our boatmen to push out from the land on hearing the shouts of

those first overtaken by the calamity; but they were too timid, and consequently one of our canoes, full of papers, instruments, and

clothes, was swamped. Happily our dried collections were not

embarked, and the hot sun repaired much of the damage.

We left in the evening of the 2nd of December, and proceeded to

Silhet, where we were kindly received by Mr. Stainforth, the district judge. Silhet, the capital of the district of the same name, is a

large Mahometan town, occupying a slightly raised part of the Jheels, where many of the Teelas seem joined together by beds of gravel and sand. In the rains it, is surrounded by water, and all communication with other parts is by boats: in winter, Jynteapore and Pundua may be reached by land, crossing creeks innumerable on the way.

Mr. Stainforth's house, like those of most of the other Europeans,

occupies the top of one of the Teelas, 150 feet high, and is

surrounded by fine spreading oaks,* [It is not generally known that oaks are often very tropical plants; not only abounding at low

elevations in the mountains, but descending in abundance to the level of the sea. Though unknown in Ceylon, the Peninsula of India,

tropical Africa, or South America, they abound in the hot valleys of the Eastern Himalaya, East Bengal, Malay Peninsula, and Indian

islands; where perhaps more species grow than in any other part of

the world. Such facts as this disturb our preconceived notions of the geographical distribution of the most familiar tribes of plants, and throw great doubt on the conclusions which fossil plants are supposed to indicate.] Garcinia, and Diospyros trees. The rock of which

the hill is composed, is a slag-like ochreous sandstone, covered in most places with a shrubbery of rose-flowered Melastoma, and some peculiar plants.* [_Gelonium, Adelia, Moacurra, Linostoma, Justicia, Trophis, Connarus, Ixora, Congea, Dalhousiea, Grewia, Myrsine,

Buttneria_; and on the shady exposures a Calamus, Briedelia, and

various ferns.]

Broad flat valleys divide the hills, and are beautifully clothed with a bright green jungle of small palms, and many kinds of ferns.

In sandy places, blue-flowered Burmannia, Hypoxis, and other pretty tropical annuals, expand their blossoms, with an inconspicuous

Stylidium, a plant belonging to a small natural family, whose

limits are so confined to New Holland, that this is almost the only kind that does not grow in that continent. Where the ground is

swampy, dwarf Pandanus abounds, with the gigantic nettle, Urtica crenulata ("Mealum-ma" of Sikkim, see chapter xxiv).

The most interesting botanical ramble about Silhet is to the

tree-fern groves on the path to Jynteapore, following the bottoms of shallow valleys between the Teelas, and along clear streams, up whose beds we waded for some miles, under an arching canopy of tropical

shrubs, trees, and climbers, tall grasses, screw-pines, and

Aroideae. In the narrower parts of the valleys the tree-ferns are numerous on the slopes, rearing their slender brown trunks forty feet high, with feathery crowns of foliage, through which the sun-beams

trembled on the broad shining foliage of the tropical herbage below.

Silhet, though hot and damp, is remarkably healthy, and does not

differ materially in