pink. This is the handsomest herbaceous plant in
Sikkim : it is called “ Tchuka,” and the acid stems are
eaten both raw and boiled; they are hollow and full of
pure water: the root resembles that of the medicinal
rhubarb, hut it is spongy and in e rt; it attains a length
of four feet, and grows as thick as the arm. The dried
leaves afford a substitute for tobacco ; a smaller kind
of rhubarb is, however, more commonly used in Tibet
for this purpose.
The last days of June (as is often the case) were
marked by violent storms, and for two days my tent
proved no protection; similar weather prevailed all
over India, the barometer falling very low. Snow fell
abundantly as low as 13,000 feet, and the rivers were
much swollen, the size and number of the stones they
rolled along producing a deafening turmoil. The wind
was southerly, very raw and cold, and drizzling rain
constantly fell.
The temperature of these rivers varies extremely at
different parts of their course, depending on that of
their affluents. The Teesta is always cool in summer
(where its bed is below 2000 feet), its temperature
being 20° below that of the a ir ; whereas in mid-winter,
when there is less cloud, and the snows are not melting,
it is only a few degrees colder than the air. At this
season, in descending from 12,000 to 1000 feet, its
temperature does not rise 10°, though that of the
air rises 30° or 40°. I t is a curious fact, that the
temperature of the northern feeders of the Teesta, in
some parts of their course, rises with the increasing
elevation! Of this the Zemu afforded a conspicuous
example : during my stay at its junction with the Thlo-
nok it was 40°, or 6° warmer than that riv e r; at 1,100
feet higher it was 48°, and at 1,100 feet higher still it
was 49°! These observations were repeated in different
weeks, and several times on the same day, both in
ascending and descending, and always with the same
re su lt: they told, as certainly as if I had followed the
river to its source, that it rose in a drier and comparatively
sunny climate, and flowed amongst little snowed
mountains.
Meanwhile, the Lachen Phipun continued to threaten
us, and I had to send hack some of the more timorous
of my party. On the 28th of June fifty men arrived
at the Thlonok, and turned my people out of the shed
at the junction of the rivers, together with the plants they
were preserving, my paste-boards, papers, and utensils.
The Lepchas came to me breathless, saying that there
were Tibetan soldiers amongst them, who declared that
I was in Cheen, and that they were coming on the
following morning to drive me back to Dorjiling. I
had little fear for myself, but was anxious with respect
to my collections ; it was getting late in the day, and
raining, and I had no mind to go down and expose
myself to the first brunt of their insolence, which I
felt sure a night of such weather would materially
wash away. Meepo was too frightened, hut Nimbo,
my Bhotan coolie Sirdar, volunteered to go, with two
stout fellows; and he accordingly brought away my
plants and papers, having held a parley with the enemy,
who, as I suspected, were not Tibetans. The best
news he brought was, that they were half-clad and