DARJEELING TO TONGLO. 149 
weather in May, we made the best arrangements we could for the 
night, and nursed good hopes of clearer skies on the morrow. I sank 
a thermometer two feet six inches in the soil, hung my instruments 
close by, under a Rhododendron, and made a “ corduroy road” (as the 
Canadians call one of transversely-laid logs of wood), by which I 
could walk every now and then, dry-ankled, to observe them. 
During the night the rain was very heavy, and the weight of water 
caused the tent to collapse upon us. By propping the slopes with 
sticks, and laying the wax-cloth of my plant-papers over our shoulders, 
we got through the night. 
On the following morning, and throughout the day, there was no 
improvement in the weather; so that I could only collect in the 
immediate neighbourhood of the tent, returning every few minutes 
with bundles of plants, and to note the botanical features of the place. 
As the climate was too cool to cause the plants or sodden paper to rot, 
I was enabled to make a very fair collection in this way; though I 
must own it was far from a soul-stirring pursuit, in such disappointing 
weather. Two more Lepchas, and as many Hindoos, fell sick during 
the day, whom we accommodated in the little tent, which had soon 
eight inmates instead of the two for whose comfort it was already 
narrow enough. This tendency to fever and ague, shown both in 
the natives of the plains who visit Darjeeling, and the hill-people 
themselves, when too much exposed, appears very singular to me: 
such attacks being altogether unknown amongst Europeans, however 
weak and otherwise predisposed. 
Finding the tracks of sheep, we sent two Lepchas in pursuit, with 
instructions and money to buy food and- blankets from the shepherds. 
The foragers returned, after being away the whole day, bringing two 
sheep and two lambs, all of the lean kind, which they bought for about 
five shillings. No blankets were to be coaxed away from the shepherds ; 
but our poor fellows were only too well satisfied with our liberality in 
giving them two sheep and one lamb, the second of which latter we 
reserved for ourselves. A kettle-full of hot weak grog, which Barnes 
brewed from our bottle of whisky, did them all good, even those who 
had the ague. I should mention that the Lepchas or Ghorkas of our 
party never uttered a complaint, not even the sick ones; the Bengalees, of 
eourse, gave way to dismal complaints, not much to be wondered at, 
considering they had recently left the scorching plains of India. My 
