these flats to 15,000 feet, but no snow is visible, except
on Kinchinjhow and Chomiomo, about fifteen miles up
the valley. Both these are flat-topped, and dazzlingly
white, rising into peaks, and precipitous on all sides;
they are grand, bold, isolated masses, quite unlike the
ordinary snowy mountains in form, and far more
imposing even than Kinchinjunga, though not above
22,000 feet in elevation.
Herbaceous plants are much more numerous here
than in any other part of Sikkim; and sitting at my
tent-door, I could gather forty-three species,* of which
all but two belonged to English genera. In the rich
soil about the cottages were crops of dock, shepherd’s*
purse, balsams, nettle, mustard, radish, turnip, &c. On
the neighbouring hills I found many fine plants, partaking
more or less of the Siberian type. Altogether
I gathered upwards of 200 species, nearly all belonging
to North European genera. Twenty-five were woody
shrubs, and six were ferns; sedges were in great profusion,
amongst them three of British k in d s; seven
or eight were orchids* including a beautiful lady’s-
slipper.
The entomology of Tallum, like its botany, was
Siberian, Arctic types occurring at lower elevations
than in the wetter parts of Sikkim. Of beetles the
honey-feeding ones prevailed, with European forms of
In England thirty is, on the average, the number of plants, which
in favourable localities I have gathered in an equal space. In both
cases many are seedlings of short-lived annuals, and in neither is the
number a test of the luxuriance of the vegetation; it but shows the power
which the different species exert in their struggle to obtain a place.
others that inhabit yak-droppings. Bees were common,
but there were no wasps, and but few ants. Grasshoppers
were rare ; Tipula was common, with a small
sand-fly; but there were neither leeches, mosquitos,
ticks, nor midges. Pigeons, red-legged crows, and hawks
were the common b ird s; with a few waders in the
marshes.
Being now fairly behind most of the great rain-
collecting mountains, I experienced a considerable
change in the climate; very little rain fell, and that
chiefly drizzle; but this was so constant that the
weather felt chilly and comfortless, and I never
returned dry from botanising. The early mornings
were bright, with views northwards of blue sky and
Kinchinjhow, while to the south the lofty peak of
Tukcham, though much nearer, was seldom seen, and
black clouds rolled up the steep valley of the Lachen
to be dissipated in mist over Tallum.
These streams are not marked by the diurnal rise
and fall, so characteristic of the Swiss rivers and those
of the western Himalaya, where a powerful sun melts
the glaciers by day, and their head-streams are frozen
by night. Here the clouds prevent alike solar and
nocturnal radiation, the temperature is more uniform,
and the corroding power of the damp southerly wind
that blows strongly throughout the day is the great
melting agent.
The Singtam Soubah visited me daily, and we held
long friendly conversations: he still insisted that the
Yangchoo (the name he gave to the Lachen at this
place) was the boundary, and that I must not go any