Dec. 1848. KURZIUK. HOSPITALITY OF THE PEOPLE. 285 



The villagers had erected a shady bower for me to rest 

 under, of leaves and branches, and had fitted up a little 

 bamboo stage, on which to squat cross-legged as they do, or 

 to hang my legs from, if I preferred : after conducting me to 

 this, the parties advanced and piled their cumbrous presents 

 on the ground, bowed, and retired ; they were succeeded by 

 the beer-carrier, who plunged a clean drinking-tube to the 

 bottom of the steaming bamboo jug (described at p. 175), 

 and held it to my mouth, then placing it by my side, he 

 bowed and withdrew. Nothing can be more fascinating 

 than the simple manners of these kind people, who really 

 love hospitality for its own sake, and make the stranger 

 feel himself welcome. Just now too, the Durbar had 

 ordered every attention to be paid me; and I hardly 

 passed a village, however small, without receiving a pre- 

 sent, or a cottage, where beer was not offered. This I 

 found a most grateful beverage ; and of the occasional 

 rests under leafy screens during a hot day's march, and sips 

 at the bamboo jug, I shall ever retain a grateful remem- 

 brance. Happily the liquor is very weak, and except by 

 swilling, as my friend the Kajee did, it would be impossible 

 to get fuddled by it. 



At Kurziuk I was met by a most respectable Lepcha, 

 who, as a sort of compliment, sent his son to escort us to 

 the next village and spur of Pemiongchi, to reach which 

 we crossed another gorge, of which the situation and features 

 were quite similar to those of Kurziuk and Lingcham. 



The Pemiongchi and Changachelling convents and 

 temples stand a few miles apart, on the ridge forming the 

 north flank of the Kulhait valley ; and as they will be 

 described hereafter, I now only allude to the village, which 

 is fully 1000 feet below the convent, and large and populous. 



At Pemiongchi a superior Lama met me with another 



