one side, that dips in a steep cliff: it appeared as
if uniformly snowed, from its rocks above 20,000 feet
being (like those of Kinchinjunga) of white granite, and
not contrasting with the snow*
As evening drew on, another wonderful spectacle
presented itself, similar to that which I described at
Sakkiazung, but displayed here on an inconceivably
grander scale, with all the effects exaggerated. I saw
a sea of mist floating 3000 feet beneath me, just below
the upper level of the black firs ; the magnificent spurs
of the snowy range which I had crossed rising out of it
m rugged grandeur as promontories and peninsulas,
between which the misty ocean seemed to finger up like
the fiords of Norway, or the saltwater lochs of the west
of Scotland; whilst islets tailed off from the promontories,
rising here and there out of the deceptive
elements. I was so high above this mist, that it had
not the billowy appearance I saw before, but was a
calm unruffled ocean, boundless to the south and west,
where the horizon over-arched it. A little to the north
of west I discerned the most lofty group of mountains
in Nepal beyond Kinchinjunga, which I believe are on
the west flank of the great valley through which the
Arun river enters Nepal from Tibet : they were very
* The appearance of Mont Cervin, from the Riffelberg, much reminded
me of that of Junnoo, from the Choonjerma pass, the former bearing the
same relation to Monte Rosa that the latter does to Kinchinjunga. Junnoo
though incomparably the more stupendous mass, is not nearly so remarkable
in outline, so sharp, or so peaked as is Mont Cervin : it is a very
much grander, but far less picturesque object. The whiteness of the sides
of Junnoo adds also greatly to its apparent altitude; while the strong relief
in which the black cliffs of Mont Cervin protrude through its snowy mantle
greatly diminishes both its apparent height and distance.
distant, and subtended so small an angle, that I
could not measure them with the sextant and artificial
horizon : their height, judging from the quantity of
snow, must be prodigious.
From 4 to 5 p .m . the temperature was 24°, with a
very cold wind ; the elevation by the barometer was
15,260 feet.
I waited for an hour, examining the rocks about the
pass, till the coolies should come up, but saw nothing
worthy of remark, the natural history and geology
being identical with those of Kambachen pass. For
about four miles we continued at nearly the same
level, dipping into the broad head of a snowy valley,
and ascending to the second pass, which lay to the
south-east.
On the left I passed a very curious isolated pillar of
rock amongst the wild crags whose bases we skirted:
it resembles the Capuchin on the shoulder of Mont
Blanc, As seen from the Jardin. Evening overtook us
while still near the last ascent. As the sun declined,
the snow at our feet reflected the most delicate peach-
bloom h u e ; and looking west from the top of the pass,
the scenery was gorgeous beyond description, for the
sun was just plunging into a sea of mist, in a blaze of
the ruddiest coppery hue. As it sank, the Nepal peaks
to the right assumed more definite, darker, and gigantic
forms, and floods of light shot across the misty ocean,
bathing the landscape in the most wonderful and
indescribable changing tints. While the luminary was
vanishing, the whole horizon glowed like copper from a
smelting furnace, and when it had disappeared, the