The Epic of Mount Everest. Francis Edward Younghusband

proof against it. Every one was soaked. And the constant rain had brought out the leeches waiting in their myriads on leaf and branch to attach themselves to man or animal.

      At Rough, where they halted on May 22nd, caladiums, kolocasias and begonias were growing on every rock, and the stems of many of the trees were decorated with the large shiny leaves of the giant pothos. Other climbers, vine and peppers and the like, were suspended from tree to tree. The branches were frequently matted thick with orchids. And the trees themselves were often fully 150 feet in height, some with clean straight trunks for a 100 feet without a branch.

      But from Rough they climbed steeply out of the tropical forest into the zone of flowering rhododendrons. The first met with in the upward road were the R. argentcicm and R. falconeri growing in a great forest of oaks and magnolias covered with delicate ferns and mauve or white orchids. Higher up the path were masses of R. cinnabarinum, whose flowers displayed every shade of red and orange. Higher still came rhododendrons of every colour—pink, crimson, yellow, mauve, white and cream.

      Among the smaller flowers was a large pink saxifrage; and a deep reddish purple primula covered every open space. Other primulas were a very tiny pink one and another like a pink primrose.

      To flower-lovers, like Howard Bury, Mallory and Wollaston, these were a perpetual delight. They were all the more appreciated because they would be almost the last sign of luxuriance and grace they would behold before they had to face the austerities and stern realities of rock and ice and snow, and the frosts of Mount Everest.

      CHAPTER IV

      CHUMBI

      The Chumbi Valley which the Expedition would now be entering has not the wealth of tree and plant life that Sikkim has. Nor has it the same views of stupendous snowy ranges rising right out of the forests. Chumbi is built on a smaller scale, but it is a more agreeable valley to travel through. The rainfall is less by two-thirds. The air is more bracing and the sunshine more certain. Except that in Kashmir there are no rhododendrons it is very like a Kashmir valley. Mountains of the Alpine order of magnitude rise from the valley bottom, and the river, though rapid and sparkling, is not of the raging, tearing, omnipotent description that the Tista is. An account of the chief flowers and trees met with on the way is as good a means as any of conveying an idea of what the valley is like.

      From the rhododendron zone in Sikkim the Expedition climbed, in pouring rain, to the Jelep Pass, 14,390 feet, and from there looked down into Tibetan territory—though not into what is geographically Tibet, for they were not yet over the main watershed but were looking into the Chumbi Valley, which is on the Indian side.

      Crossing the pass made a change in climate. They emerged from the mist and rain and were under the clean blue sky which is one characteristic of Tibet. And they were entering the Chumbi Valley when it was at its best. As they rapidly descended the zigzag path they were once again among rhododendrons and primulas. Nearing the 12,000 feet level, Wollaston noticed the open level spaces were carpeted with a dark purple and yellow primula (P. gammiena), a delicate little yellow flower (Lloydia tibetica) and many saxifrages, while the steep hill-sides were ablaze with the flowers of the large rhododendrons (R. thomsoni, R. falconeri R. aucklandi) and the smaller campylocarpum, in great variety of colour. The descent continued through woods of pines, oaks and walnuts. And lower down were a fine white clematis, a pink and white spiræa, a yellow berberis and white roses, while a dark purple iris grew in profusion.

      Yatung, where there is a British Trade Agent and a guard of twenty-five Indian troops, was reached on the same day. It lies at a height of 9400 feet. Apples and pears do well there. Wheat and potatoes are grown in great quantities. And in May the air was scented by the wild roses which grow in large bushes covered with hundreds of cream-coloured blossoms.

      On May 27th the Expedition began its ascent of the main Chumbi Valley towards Phari and the plateau of Tibet proper. The path lay close beside the clear rushing river. More wild roses, including a large red one, pink and white spiræas and cotoneasters, anemones, berberis, clematis and some charming dwarf rhododendrons abounded. And as they neared the Lingmatang Plain there were masses of pink and mauve rhododendrons, flowering cherries, viburnum, berberis and roses. The plain itself is about 11,000 feet above sea-level, and is a lovely meadow, covered now with a tiny pink primula (P. minutissima).

      Beyond the plain the path ascended again through forests of birch, larch, juniper, spruce, and silver fir, with an undergrowth of rhododendrons and mountain ash. Blue poppies, fritillaries, ground orchids and sweet-scented primulas grew along the path. And in the forest were great bushes, eight to ten feet in height, of R. cinnabarinum which is here at its best and varied in shade from yellow and orange to deep red.

      Dippers, wagtails and the white-capped redstart were the commonest birds along the river-banks. In the woods hereabouts the blood pheasant was often heard, and sometimes seen. Here lives also, though it was not to be seen, the great Tibetan stag which in size nearly rivals the wapiti.

      Above Gautsa, 12,000 feet, both the vegetation and the country began to change. The rhododendrons were still the most beautiful of the flowering shrubs but were diminished in size. Howard Bury speaks of a pale blue iris. And Wollastan marked especially a yellow primula covering the ground more thickly than cowslips in England and filling the air with its scent. Here and there was seen the large blue poppy (Meconopsis sp.), some of whose flowers were fully three inches across; and a white anemone with five or six flowers on one stem.

      Soon the trees became scantier, pines disappeared altogether; birches, willows and junipers followed. Dwarf rhododendrons, only a foot high, some pure white, others pink, continued up to about 13,500 feet. And then the hill-sides became purple with the little rhododendron setosum, which covered the hill-sides like purple heather.

      After 8 miles the country changed completely in character. The gorges and deep, richly-wooded valleys were left behind. And the Expedition came out on to the open plain of Phari—the real Tibet, though the actual watershed was yet a few miles further on. And there, standing sentinel over the entrance to Tibet, was the great peak Chomolhari, 23,930 feet in height—not one of the highest peaks, but one of the most conspicuous and beautiful peaks, because it stands so apart from the rest and is so sharp and bold and rugged in its outline.

      CHAPTER V

      TIBET

      The holiday part of the Expedition was now over and business was to commence. But the members of the Expedition on their arrival in Tibet were in no fit state for the hard work before them. The great contrast of climate they had experienced since leaving England, the alternate heat and cold, dry heat and steaming heat, dry cold and wet cold, the changes of diet, and perhaps also bad and filthy cooking had knocked up nearly every one. Kellas was the worst, and as soon as he arrived in Phari he retired to bed.

      The weather, now they had arrived in Tibet, was, however, at least healthy. The soaking mists, the drenching rains and the enervating heat were finally left behind. The billowy monsoon clouds did not reach Tibet. The sky was clear and the air was dry even if there were too much of it at times.

      Phari was a filthy place, as every traveller, from the time of Manning in 1811 on, has irresistibly remarked. It is a fort surrounded by a little town set out in the plain. But the Dzongpen—the local official—was civil and helpful. Tibetans are by nature courteous. They may be obstinate and, if aroused by anything which touches their religion, they may vehemently hate. But their native disposition is polite. And in this case the Dzongpen had received orders from Lhasa to provide the required transport—on payment—and to be friendly with the British.

      Transport therefore was forthcoming, though it took time to collect, and the Expedition spent several days at Phari.

      From this dirty place they marched across the Tang La, 15,200 feet, to Tuna. The rise is scarcely perceptible and the pass itself is a plain two or three miles wide. For these reasons the pass has great importance. It forms the main approach to Tibet from India and is the way by which the Tibet Mission of 1904 proceeded to Lhasa. They were able to cross it even in the depth of winter—January the 9th—though the thermometer fell to 18° below