XXXIXON A PINNACLE IN NATURE
FROM the time that this region of the Himalayas first impressed itself as a Cathedral upon the mind of Adele, an idealist, she invariably spoke of the various natural beauties of the locality as parts of the Grand Edifice.
“This Cathedral has magnificent proportions. I must explore it, and go all over it, from crypt to dome, visit the baptistry, and, as the Doctor says, ‘mount upon a pinnacle;’” then musingly: “I should like to attend a service.”
“All right,” said Doctor Wise, the liberal, “we can have a service of some sort, even if we are obliged to read prayers ourselves.”
“It would be better to have the natives officiate—one of the local bishops,” said Adele.
“He would not have Apostolic succession,” said Paul, of Non-conformist proclivities.
“Apostolic, nevertheless,” remarked Professor Cultus, who habitually looked at things from a literary point of view. “He would consider himself sent by some one—that makes him apostolic. He would have been ‘called’ to preach, or to write, or to do something, fundamentally apostolic, if he is a true man.”
“I should like to see a primitive cassock or stole,” said Miss Winchester, who was inclined to ritualism, “and a real old-time monk with his beads and a rope around his waist.”
“You shall,” said the Doctor, “and we will investigate to see whether the clergy face towards the East.”
“Not here,” said Adele promptly; “they would not if they knew.”
“Why not?” exclaimed Miss Winchester.
“Because they must look up.”
“Oh, of course.”
“Northward, I mean—up north.”
“What has that got to do with it?”
“It’s towards the centre of things—the pole star in the heavens.”
“Dear me!” said Miss Winchester, “you’re so ‘broad’, you’ll flatten out, become thin. I don’t like my bread buttered too thin; but tell me, Adele, why here, in this place?”
“This Cathedral is so constructed.”
Miss Winchester said she had not before observed it in that light.
“Which way shall we start?” inquired Paul.
“For a good view, down the nave,” said Adele. “Let’s ask a verger to show us around.”
The verger presented himself in the person of a Bhootan peasant astride of a Manchu pony, and leading others saddled for members of the party.
“I’m not accustomed to attending church on horseback,” remarked Miss Winchester. “But I rather like the idea.”
“Our ancestors did; often two on the same pony,” laughed Paul. “That’s why I like it; heredity, I suppose.”
“It strikes me it was a case of go-as-you-please with our primitive ancestors,” said the Doctor, jovial. “That’s why we all like it.”
“If you mean liberty in worship,” whispered Adele, “that’s why it suits me.”
“That’s about it,” thought the Doctor.
This was as they ascended Mt. Senshal towards Tiger Head. The valley below was filled with cloud-billows which the coolmorning air still kept intact, the atmosphere above more clear and transparent. As they and the sun rose higher and higher the cloud-billows became vapor, and the mist twirled amid the foliage of the forest, or was dissolved and disappeared in the general atmosphere.
The Bhootan verger took them to a lofty crest from which they could look down the vista of the valley, and before them the nave of the Cathedral. Verdant hills lifted their heads on either side, making a sky-line as lofty as many in the Alps; yet here they were merely spurs of the mighty range beyond.
A pause. Adele stood gazing through the Nave; and there was the congregation, a world-full, at her feet.
Some one suggested to Paul that he ask her to sing. The request seemed injudicious just then and there, but some people have no sixth sense. Paul drew up his pony near hers while she was still absorbed in the prospect. It certainly was inopportune, but he ventured:
“If my voice would carry, I should try to sing. How do you feel about it, Adele?”
She shook her head.
“No? you don’t feel like singing! That’s not like you!”
“I like it too much, that’s why.”
“Oh, is that it?”
“Not here—I could not.”
“Where?”
“Perhaps—perhaps in the choir, when they have service.”
Evidently she had her own ideas about sentiments appropriate in this Cathedral. There was a place and time for all things. This was not the time nor place to make herself prominent, not even with the divine art; rather the time for meditation upon the infinite grandeur of the scene.
And the verger took them to other points of view, even as far as Tongloo (altitude 10,000 feet), and Sunkukphoo (altitude 12,000 feet), consuming several days for these journeys. Over hill and dale they went, from the Forest Bungalowmounting to Goom Rock; passing by the pools (porkri) on to the Manay Bhunjun (temple); up zigzags to a way-station hut. They passed through bamboo groves, and were off and on their ponies as the route became too steep for riding. The view at Tongloo was comprehensive and superb. Then they continued on by descending, before surmounting another range; past waterfalls, towards the base of Pionothumna Hills (S. E.); to rise again rapidly by endless zigzags, seventeen at one time alone, towards the Kala Porkri, a loftier point than they had yet reached; then more zigzags, much puffing and blowing, through pines; then across the country, the open upon a high level; and finally up and up, terrific pull, higher and higher, by what Adele called the Himalaya Ladder, as extended as Jacob’s, twenty-five zigzags in succession, a steep climb and hard work, requiring an extra pair of wings, and double-bellows lungs—to the summit at Sunkukphoo.
“Out on the roof!” exclaimed Miss Winchester.
“Among the flying buttresses,” thought the Professor.
“On a pinnacle of the Temple!” exclaimed the Doctor.
“All the world beneath us,” said Paul in admiration.
“All but those Delectable Mountains,” thought Adele, glancing at once towards the snowy peaks which still towered above them at an elevation of some twenty-nine thousand feet.
They stood in the presence of mountains five and a half miles high, with comparatively little intervening; in the presence of some of the highest summits upon the globe, and themselves literally on a pinnacle.[2]
The sublimity of the Himalayas, now enhanced by greater proximity of the beholder, presented a more pictorial effect than heretofore: the grouping of the Trio of Mountains a composition from the Artistic Mind of Nature; an inspiration full of aspiration, for the earth itself seemed inspired by a desire to ascend. Such was the first impression.
Attention was at once focused upon the Three EternalPeaks, rather than the extended Snowy Range which on either side disappeared in the dim distance; and the forms and arrangement of the landscape seemed almost ideal. Imagination might have conjured up such a tableau, but its realization and potency in spiritual influences would hardly have been expected as reasonable—the constant ascension of jagged glacial ever-pointing summits (material substance) towards the Celestial unseen realm of azure blue. Yet, there it was—an actuality—fixing itself in the mind’s eye and on the physical retina, to be remembered ever afterwards.
In the centre rose the Majesty of the Mountains, the Majestic Father Peak, clad in Nature’s robes of State Existence; simple in outline, exquisite in texture, the dignified sweep of lines and folds, draperies and half-hidden illusive forms seemingly mysterious which characterized the vestments of Nature’s Royal Presence—robes of state flowing from the heavens above to the earth beneath.
Through the crystal atmosphere one could distinguish Celestial Valleys, and ravines set amid rugged crags and mountain “needles” of stone attenuated to an extent greater than any Cathedral spire ever constructed by man: and in and about the deeper recesses were local mists and hazy atmosphere, as if to hinder or prevent too inquisitive curiosity as to the hidden depths within. Curious and admirable indeed was this seemingly mysterious element in Nature; yet, verily not so, not mysterious, but only secrets yet to be explored and divulged by scientific research.
Although the tourists had thus ascended heavenward somewhat differently from Jacob’s angels with wings, rather upon winged ponies following the legendary hero upon his white horse; yet when they arrived, the after-effects were quite according to ordinary experience.
Miss Winchester was the first to illustrate her human nature under such conditions. The altitude affected her peculiarly, not as it did the others.
“No wonder,” said she, “that some people are tempted to jump off when they find themselves on high places!—the exhilaration is intense. There is a fascination in the depth, it draws one; it makes me feel as if I could sail off in space, like the birds.”
“Be careful,” thought the Doctor, moving near her to steady her nerves, if necessary.
“It is as if I should spread my arms—and leap!” cried she. “I could sail on the air like the eagle; there is no thought of danger.”
“No danger! no danger!” instantly shouted the Bhootan pony driver, noticing her actions which spoke quite as loud as her words. “No danger! my horses are sure-footed. No danger with me! The Good Spirits take care of all I bring, and will not let them dash their foot against the stones;” and he continued to praise his sure-footed ponies as able to carry anyone with safety. Miss Winchester concluded to dismount, nevertheless, and the Doctor assisted her.
Adele began to feel nervous; the atmosphere being rarefied, and she more sensitive than the others, it told upon her physically, and at the same time affected her spiritually. She was glad that Paul kept his pony next hers.
“What is it? are you tired?” asked Paul, noting her pallor.
“No! it’s so really high; we’re so high I don’t feel easy—it’s not natural; it takes my breath away.”
“Oh, then you feel the effect of the thin air; open your mouth wide and get the air on both sides of your ear-drums. The pressure will then be even; you’ll feel better.” Adele did so and felt more at ease.
“How resourceful you are, Paul—so practical; that pressure was becoming too much for me—I felt faint.” Then after looking around for some time and observing other things, she remarked with considerable energy, yet serious:
“These pinnacle views are too much!”
“What is it now?” asked Paul.
“Why—look before you—those are mountains beneath us, yet they look flat.”
“Yes, they do.”
“They are neither picturesque nor artistic, when you look down upon them.”
“Then don’t look at them, my dear! Look at me.”
Adele smiled, but continued in her mood.
“Paul! from above, those mountains are not true to nature, they are not mountains at all.”
“From your point of view, no.”
“From here, the world is all out of drawing, it does not give you a true idea of itself.”
“It certainly doesn’t look very round,” remarked Paul; “it’s rather concave, with the horizon as high up as we are.”
“No, the idea is not true,” continued Adele; “seen from here, one might think our journey had been over a flat country—easy to walk over—but you know it wasn’t.”
Paul laughed. “No, it wasn’t, my saddle tells me so—it was a hard road to travel. But the view! that’s all right; Adele, it is the grandest we have seen. I never expect to see anything finer.”
“It’s too grand for me—it overwhelms.”
“How, Adele?”
“I’m deceived, in so many ways; deceived as to distance and heights, and I can’t tell what I’m looking at. There now—over there, is a large bare place, I suppose, but it looks like a small field; and just the reverse, there is a clump of foliage, it may be a jungle with tigers, although from here it looks so harmless.”
“Oh, but you must use your common sense and gumption, and not be misled by experiences.”
“Indeed! Well, what do you call that?”
“Where?”
“That thing over there—what is it?” pointing with her whip.
Paul looked. Far away an irregular cloud-like something stood out clearly as if raised above the surface of the earth; it gleamed or glistened faintly in the distance, but being irregular in form, light in color, and doubtless lifted up because it appeared so, Paul pronounced it to be a cloud drifting between the lower hills.
“No, Mr. Common Sense with gumption, it is a lake—the pony man just told me so; the reflection makes it stand up above the forest. I don’t think much of common sense that mistakes a mud-puddle for a cloud, do you?”
“Then we won’t photograph it, for cloud effects,” said Paul, feeling less sure of himself.
“Paul, these high places give a sort of false perspective. I don’t know how to describe it, but it takes too much common sense to get correct impressions. I don’t like to be deceived, especially about things so intensely interesting; or when I’m doing my best to see, and I don’t see the real thing in return.”
“Well, keep your head level; if I had been on the lower level I wouldn’t have been mistaken about that lake.”
“That’s just it,” said Adele. “No ifs are allowed on pinnacles,” and on the instant her pony gave a lurch which threatened to unseat her. She pulled him up sharply, and in so doing was thrown forward, into a most uncomfortable position, on the pommel of her saddle. Bracing up she tugged at the reins, drawing them tighter than was necessary, which only made the animal more restive. Paul patted the beast on the neck, and held him until the guide approached.
The Bhootanese came up, swearing outrageously in his native lingo; declaring that the very devil was in the beast. He had bragged about his sure-footed ponies, but had not mentioned that they, too, when in unaccustomed places and particularly on elevations where the air was thin, were apt to become restless, and were then given to shyings and backings and misbehaviors quite foreign to them when on a lowerlevel. The pony was anxious to get down and return home; the beast knew what was best for him. His Bhootanese master, enraged at the animal for behaving so, swore until the air was full of Himalaya imps, Bhootanese blue-devils, Nepaulese demons, and a varied assortment of ejaculatory grunts, both human and equine, all summoned for the occasion. Even in Occidental parlance it might be said that the Devil and his imps had been summoned to meet there on the pinnacle.
Fortunately this assortment of demon-devils were of native production; therefore not recognizable by the rest of the party; although not unknown to the ponies, who soon quieted down.
Miss Winchester, completely surrounded by the ejaculations, of course secured a choice assortment for literary purposes; she and the demons seemed to have it all their own way for the time being.
Adele was so preoccupied with keeping her seat in the saddle that she was conscious of neither imps nor sounds, but after peace was restored she turned to Paul:
“That man swore, didn’t he?”
“Yes, like a trooper.”
“Well, tell him the Bad Spirit will catch him if he does that sort of thing.”
“Then, perhaps, he’ll set the Old Boy on us.”
“I would like to see what the Bhootanese Old Boy is like, if he doesn’t scare my pony.”
“What would you do if you’d see him?”
“Tell him to keep his eye on his servant here—this mule! But we’ll have no more trouble now, this pony only needs watching.”
“You held on first-rate.”
“Yes, but I didn’t come up here to watch a mule; I came for something better.”
“Let me rub his nose,” said Paul, leaning over, making friends with the pony.
Adele, who was indeed rather shaken up and agitated by the incident, continued to feel nervous. She finally spoke:
“Would you like to know, Paul, how this really makes me feel—this being so high up in the world?”
“Yes; I’d like to know how being elevated above the level of ordinary experience affects you.”
“Well! sitting on a pinnacle, as the Doctor calls it, is a fraud.”
“You really think so!”
“Yes, it is deluding; it demands more than I can manage; it takes entirely too much time trying to hold on.”
“What do you propose to do about it?”
“Why, get down—to our own level—soon as possible.”
There had come into their experience one phase of the great Asiatic lesson to humanity, namely; to be content in the position, humble or exalted, to which they had been born. The things seen had actually embodied things unseen.