CAMP, Sikkim, Himalaya. September 25, 1849. My dearest Mother, I must get into the habit (which I do not like) of making my letters the recipients, as now, of various packets of seeds for my hungry father, - who shall not famish for them any more, if I can help it. Pray pacify him about the Rhododendrons: you may assure him that not one is in seed now, nor will be for a month, I remain here on purpose to gather them, and, as I have 25 followers, he must not be surprised if I draw a Bill upon him; for the Sikkim Rajah takes care I get no Provisions gratis. Mr. Courtenay writes and asks me for seeds of Rhododendron, for his friend, Mr. Bellenden Ker. As I am doubtful if it is right to refuse such a request from one of Lord Dalhousie's Staff, I now leave the matter to my father, whom I will thank to write to Mr. Bellenden Ker on the subject, at once. I have given a decided denial to all the Darjeelingites, except Dr. Campbell;

and with him I have made the express stipulation, that he shall not distribute them; for it is of course right that Kew Gardens should possess the plants first. Mr. Courtenay is informed that my father will write to Mr. Ker. He has been kindly attentive to several matters which have passed through his hands to Lord Dalhousie; and I am sure he would gladly serve me if he could. Just now the Equinoctial gales are blowing; and we have wretched weather, snow and sleet. The fires won't burn; for the sorry twigs of Rhododendron, which we are obliged to fetch for 4 miles down the valley, and which form our sole fuel, are thoroughly sodden. We have had nearly a week of this weather, and, as my barometer is rising, I hope to see the end of it very soon. I am truly glad you can give such a good account of dear Bessy; and I hope she is now enjoying herself at Steyning. No news yet, I grieve to see, of dear old Sir John Franklin: it is a most happy thing that his daughter has at last consented to become Mrs. Gell:- pray tell me what her husband's prospects are, and what he is like? for I have not a very accurate remembrance of him (9 years ago) at Van Diemen's Land. I rejoice to hear that Maria is well and comfortably settled; my love to her, if you please. This is a very dull place, by reason of there being no inhabitants for many, many miles around; so you must not expect

much news from me. A fat Lama rode past yesterday, mounted on a long-haired Yak; a mahogany-faced man, 60 years old, apparently, - led his Holiness' Beast. He was arrayed in purple, with a rosary round his neck, and a fine mitre of silk, wrought with gold, on his head. He looked stout and comfortable, and was so swathed in Blankets to cross the Pass, that he reminded me of the huge rolls of woollen stuff, which stand outside the shops of the Glasgow Drapers. I hope you have made acquaintance with the stuffed Yak in the British Museum. The Yaks are the only cattle here, and are a genuine kind of Bison; tell Mr. Gray so (he will probably contradict you). They are now driven down from my Camping Ground to the warmer valleys; when they were here, I used to get their milk every morning, but the wearisome beasts never let me sleep at night; for they indulge in late suppers and used to come grunting to the eaves of my tent for the long grass. Wherefore I kept a stout Tripod, with a great brass top, close to my bedside; and when any black nose came quite too near at night, I gave it a hit, to the great discomfiture of the whole party. These animals grunt like pigs all night long; they are used as beasts of burden, and their milk, made into butter and curd, affords the staple food of the people. Best love to Bessy Ever your most affectionate son, J. D. HOOKER.