e bulky trunks bear masses of interlacing
climbers--vines, hydrangea, and peppers. And often the supporting
tree has long ago decayed away and their climbers now enclose a
hollow. Perpetual moisture nourishes this dripping forest, and
pendulous mosses and lichens are met with in profusion.

For this forest life, however, we cannot at present spare the attention
that is its due, for we want above all things to see the mountains on
the far side of this outer ridge. Tropical forests may be seen in many
other parts of the world. But only here on all the Earth can we see
mountains on so magnificent a scale. So we do not pause, but cross
the ridge and come to the slopes and spurs which face northward,
away from the plains and towards the main range of the Himalaya.

Here is situated Darjiling, which ought to be set apart as a sacred
place of pilgrimage for all the world. Directly facing the snowy
range and set in the midst of a vast forest of oaks and laurels,
rhododendrons, magnolias, and camellias, the branches and trunks
of which are festooned with vines and smilax and covered with ferns
and orchids, and at the base of which grow violets, lobelias, and
geraniums, with berberries, brambles, and hydrangeas--it is adapted
as few other places are for the contemplation of Nature's Beauty in
its most splendid aspects.

Its only disadvantage is that it is so continually shrouded in mist.
The range on which it stands being the first range against which the
moisture-laden currents from the Bay of Bengal strike, the rainfall is
very heavy and amounts to 140 or 160 inches in the year. And even
when rain is not actually falling there is much cloud hanging about
the mountains. So the traveller cannot count upon seeing the snows.
There is no certainty that as he tops the ridge or turns the corner he
will see Kinchinjunga in the full blaze of its glory. He cannot be as
sure of seeing it as he is of seeing a picture on entering a gallery.
During the month of November alone is there a reasonable surety.
All the rest of the year he must take his chance and possess his soul
in patience till the mountain is graciously pleased to reveal herself.

Perhaps because of the uncertainty of seeing Kinchinjunga the view
when it is seen is all the more impressive. The traveller waits for
hours and days, even for only a glimpse. One minute's sight of the
mountains would satisfy him. But still the clouds eddy about in
fleecy billows wholly obscuring