86 DR. HOOKER’S MISSION TO INDIA. 
bled monkeys rather than men. Both Palms yield a toddy, but that 
from the Pheniz alone ferments, and is distilled. 
Walked to the hills, over a dead level cultivated country, interspersed 
with occasional belts of low wood; in which the pensile nests of the 
weaver-bird were abundant, but generally hanging out of reach, in a 
prickly Acacia. 
The hills here present a straight precipitous wall of stratified sand- 
stone, very much like the rocks at the Cape of Good Hope, with occa- 
sionally a shallow valley, and a slope of débris at the base, densely 
clothed with dry jungle. The cliffs are about 1,000 feet high, and the 
plants similar to those at the foot of Paras-Nath, but stunted: I 
climbed to the top, the latter part by stairs or ledges of sandstone, in 
which a withered Selaginella and dried Riccia grew. The summit 
was clothed with long grass, trees of Diospyros and Terminalia, and 
here and there the Boswellia. On the precipitous rocks, the curious 
white-barked Stereulia “ flung its arms abroad," leafless, and looking 
as if blasted by lightning. 
During my absence I employed eight coolies to dig a hole, as deep 
as they could, with an iron jumper; but after eight hours they had only 
sunk four feet six inches. The thermometer placed in it, stood at 76° 
that night, and the following morning, the corresponding temperature 
of air being 64° 5’ and 60° 5’. 
Feb. 17th.—Marched to Rotasghur, a spur of the Vindhya, over- 
hanging the Soane. As we proceeded, the steep escarpment of rock 
approaches the river, and a seam of limestone is seen protruding below 
the sandstone, on a level with the plains through which the river runs. 
Though the overlying strata of sandstone are quite horizontal, those of 
limestone dip to the N.W. Passing between the river and a curious, 
conical, detached, dry hill of the limestone, capped with a little block 
of sandstone, the spur of Rotas broke suddenly on the view, and very 
grand it was, realizing quite my anticipations of the position of these 
hill-forts of India. To the left of the spur, the valley of the Soane 
winds, with low-wooded hills on its opposite bank, and a higher range, 
connected with that of Behar, in the distance. To the right, the hills 
sweep round, forming an immense and very beautifully wooded amphi- 
theatre, about four miles deep, apparently bounded, like the valley of 
Rasselas, with a continuation of the escarpment. At the foot of the 
crowned spur, was the village of Akbarpore, where we encamped, occu- 
