not above a sixteenth part of it is fit for cultivation; yet, even here, under circumstances not at all favourable, vegetation displays a luxuriance which could little be expected at so great a height. Buckwheat and barley are generally raised with success. At 12,000 feet, Captain Webb saw the finest grain, and at 11,680, he observed forests of oak, and beds of strawberries and currants in full blossom. The pasturage, in consequence probably of copious moisture, combined with the power of the sun's rays, grows with a luxuriance almost unequalled. The natives, prone to exaggeration, assert it to be inexhaustible, so that whatever has been cropt during the day is restored in the following night. A productive field, however, is occasionally ruined by the descent of glaciers, or beds of snow, which do not melt for several years. It is alleged, indeed, by the inhabitants, that there is a gradual lowering of the frozen line, and that the snow covers woods and fields which were once entirely free from it.

Notwithstanding the shattered and rocky aspect of those precipices, they are yet covered with vast masses of hanging wood. Amidst the wilds, tall and majestic forests of pine, larch, spruce, and silver fir, sometimes even of cypress and cedar, grow, flourish, and decay; for there are no means of conveying the timber to any spot where it might be subservient to human use or ornament. With these trees are intermingled numerous bushes loaded with the fruits which form the luxury of the northern regions of Europe; gooseberry, raspberry, strawberry, all unknown to the plains below. In sheltered spots, the wild rose, the lily of the valley, cowslip, dandelion, and various other flowers, are seen bursting through the green carpet. The trees and rocks in the higher districts are richly clothed with moss and lichen, the vegetation of the countries bordering on the arctic circle; a specimen of the latter has even been observed resembling that which flourishes in Iceland, and which is imported for medicinal purposes under the name of Iceland moss.

After passing the crest of the Himalayah, and descending the northern side, quite a different scene opens to the view. The

periodical rains, which plentifully water all the opposite face, cannot pass that tremendous barrier. Snow also falls in much smaller quantity, and is more easily melted. The same luxuriant verdure and vegetation no longer clothe those remote heights, which are described by Jacquemont as steep and naked, covered with shrubs, parched grass, and debris washed down by the waters. Yet it is remarkable that a mild climate, fit for the production of valuable grain, reaches to a considerably greater elevation here than even on the southern face. In the Tartar pergunnah of Hungarung, the village of Nako, 12,000 feet high, was seen surrounded by the most luxuriant crops of wheat and barley. A hamlet, in the north-east of Kunawur, at 14,900 feet, is described by Dr. Gerard as being encompassed with the finest fields of the latter; and it appeared to him that culture might be carried to the height of 16,000 or 17,000 feet. Even the grasses, though having a withered appearance, are of a nutritious species, and afford subsistence to numerous flocks and herds. Passes 20,000 feet high have, in this region, been found clear of snow. It is remarkable that, on coming to the outer face of one of these mountains, even with a southern exposure, the temperature is greatly diminished. The case is the same with peaks projected into the air, like promontories into the ocean; though the cause of the peculiar mildness in this enclosed part of the great range seems not to be fully understood. Mr. Royle suggests the reflection of the sun's rays from opposite mountains, and the warm vapours ascending from the sheltered valleys which lie between them.

The animal world in this higher region undergoes a change equally striking with the vegetable. The elephant and tiger, kings of the forests beneath, disappear, or are very seldom seen. Depredations are chiefly committed by the wild cat, the bear, and the hog. The chamois bounds from rock to rock, and the forests are filled with deer of various species; of which the most rare and precious is that producing the musk. It is found only in the loftiest heights, amid rocks which the human foot scarcely dares

to tread. The most intense cold is so essential to its life, that the young, on being brought down to a warm situation, usually perish in a few days. The forests at all the more moderate elevations are filled with flocks of such fowls as are elsewhere domesticated, here running about wild, tempting the pursuit of the sportsman; but, as they very seldom take wing, they are with difficulty reached by the gun. The peacock displays his glittering plumage only on the lower hills. The sovereign eagle is seldom descried amid the cliffs, which are inhabited by kites, hawks, and others of the minor predatory birds. Partridges and pheasants are numerous and of various species; the latter are even seen flying amid the snows at a great elevation. Bees swarm in all the lower districts, making their hives in the hollows of trees; these the natives plunder by merely raising a loud noise, which causes the swarm to issue forth and leave the honey unprotected.

The domestic animals, fed by the natives on their rich pastures, are the common black cattle of India, combined with the yak of Thibet. A mule bred between the two is also very common. The latter produces with either of the pure species, and even with its own kind, though in this last case it soon degenerates. Sheep and goats are also reared in large numbers, not only for the ordinary purposes of food and clothing, but for the conveyance of merchandise, which they alone are fitted to transport over the steep mountain-passes. Besides the common sheep, there is another breed, powerful, and long-legged, and able to bear more than double the burden of the other; its wool is also very fine.

The most elevated part of this stupendous range is that to the north of Bengal, along the heads of the Gogra, the Ganges, and the Jumna, and westward as far as the Sutledge. In this line there are supposed to be at least twenty-eight peaks higher than Chimborazo; and several appear, upon strict measurement, to reach 25,000 feet. Three, farther to the north, seen at different times, but at some distance, by Moorcroft, Gerard, and a govern

ment surveyor, could not, it was thought by these gentlemen, fall short of 29,000 or even 30,000 feet. This sublime formation, supposed to be 1000 miles in length and eighty in breadth, does not enclose anything that can properly be called a table-land; for though, from the plain, it appears like a succession of ridges, 'in the interior it is found composed of arms, radiating in every direction, intersected by deep ravines, through which the waters struggle, and are often turned in opposite directions. Their line is so winding and irregular, that the traveller is usually obliged to cross the summit of the ridge, as if no openings existed. It is observed, too, that the north-western face is always rugged, while that to the north-east is shelving. The declivity towards Thibet is small, when compared to the descent on the southern side; indicating the great elevation of that country, which is estimated not to fall short of 15,000 feet.

Westward of the Sutledge, the Himalayah greatly declines, or rather, according to Baron Hügel, it stretches in a northern direction, along the frontier of Thibet, detaching only an inferior branch along the Indian border. The white summits are no longer seen in a continuous line, but appear only singly, and at some distance. The most western is Tricota Devi, a beautiful three-peaked mountain, and beyond it a break occurs, which, however, to an eye looking from India, is filled up by more distant masses. Southward of Cashmere, the Peer Pandjahl, as it is called, rears its snowy head, though not altogether to the same stupendous height; and it is continued to the Hindoo Coosh, which separates Cabul from Tartary.

A natural division of this high country is formed by the narrow valleys, or rather ravines, furrowed out by those mighty rivers which descend from the heights to water the plains of Hindostan. These glens, all deep, dark, and enclosed by precipitous walls, have each, besides, its own peculiar aspect; and a late traveller has enabled us to form some idea of the leading features which distinguish those of the Sutledge, the Pabur, the Jumna, and the Bagharuttee, or principal head of the Ganges.