at 1100 feet higher it was 48 degrees, and at 1100 feet higher still
it was 49 degrees! These observations were repeated in different
weeks, and several times on the same day, both in ascending and
descending, and always with the same result: they told, as certainly
as if I had followed the river to its source, that it rose in a drier
and comparatively sunny climate, and flowed amongst little
snowed mountains.

Meanwhile, the Lachen Phipun continued to threaten us, and I had to
send back some of the more timorous of my party. On the 28th of June
fifty men arrived at the Thlonok, and turned my people out of the
shed at the junction of the rivers, together with the plants they
were preserving, my boards, papers, and utensils. The boys came to me
breathless, saying that there were Tibetan soldiers amongst them, who
declared that I was in Cheen, and that they were coming on the
following morning to make a clean sweep of my goods, and drive me
back to Dorjiling. I had little fear for myself, but was anxious with
respect to my collections: it was getting late in the day, and
raining, and I had no mind to go down and expose myself to the first
brunt of their insolence, which I felt sure a night of such weather
would materially wash away. Meepo was too frightened, but Nimbo, my
Bhotan coolie Sirdar, volunteered to go, with two stout fellows; and
he accordingly brought away my plants and papers, having held a
parley with the enemy, who, as I suspected, were not Tibetans.
The best news he brought was, that they were half clad and without
food; the worst, that they swaggered and bullied: he added, with some
pride, that he gave them as good as he got, which I could readily
believe, Nimbo being really a resolute fellow,* [In East Nepal he
drew his knife on a Ghorka sepoy; and in the following winter was
bold enough to make his escape in chains from Tumloong.] and