summaryrefslogtreecommitdiff
diff options
context:
space:
mode:
authornfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org>2025-02-06 15:48:51 -0800
committernfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org>2025-02-06 15:48:51 -0800
commit4d7f925a939fc2bfbd480c041a18076209329d92 (patch)
tree7226688acf03fd6d46da5988f9c310aa0aea63bf
parent11f46224d3fa13258c3ce07346a6509d1fe6cb15 (diff)
NormalizeHEADmain
-rw-r--r--.gitattributes4
-rw-r--r--LICENSE.txt11
-rw-r--r--README.md2
-rw-r--r--old/53327-0.txt6346
-rw-r--r--old/53327-0.zipbin142524 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/53327-h.zipbin550107 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/53327-h/53327-h.htm8918
-rw-r--r--old/53327-h/images/cover.jpgbin35597 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/53327-h/images/i004.jpgbin32904 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/53327-h/images/i005.jpgbin2389 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/53327-h/images/i029.jpgbin36244 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/53327-h/images/i051.jpgbin34071 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/53327-h/images/i089.jpgbin29012 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/53327-h/images/i135.jpgbin23982 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/53327-h/images/i151.jpgbin31998 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/53327-h/images/i179.jpgbin34902 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/53327-h/images/i197.jpgbin29350 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/53327-h/images/i241.jpgbin26433 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/53327-h/images/i265.jpgbin33880 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/53327-h/images/i297.jpgbin32418 -> 0 bytes
-rw-r--r--old/53327-h/images/i311.jpgbin14220 -> 0 bytes
21 files changed, 17 insertions, 15264 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d7b82bc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/.gitattributes
@@ -0,0 +1,4 @@
+*.txt text eol=lf
+*.htm text eol=lf
+*.html text eol=lf
+*.md text eol=lf
diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6312041
--- /dev/null
+++ b/LICENSE.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
diff --git a/README.md b/README.md
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..05dd7f9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/README.md
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #53327 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/53327)
diff --git a/old/53327-0.txt b/old/53327-0.txt
deleted file mode 100644
index e027483..0000000
--- a/old/53327-0.txt
+++ /dev/null
@@ -1,6346 +0,0 @@
-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Samurai Trails, by Lucian Swift Kirtland
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-
-
-Title: Samurai Trails
- A Chronicle of Wanderings on the Japanese High Road
-
-Author: Lucian Swift Kirtland
-
-Release Date: October 20, 2016 [EBook #53327]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SAMURAI TRAILS ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Craig Kirkwood and the Online Distributed
-Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
-produced from images generously made available by The
-Internet Archive.)
-
-
-
-
-
-
-Transcriber’s Notes:
-
-Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
-
-There is a glossary of Japanese words at the end of the text.
-
-Additional Transcriber’s Notes are at the end.
-
- * * * * *
-
-SAMURAI TRAILS
-
- * * * * *
-
-[Illustration: FOREIGNERS]
-
-
-
-
-SAMURAI TRAILS
-
- _A Chronicle of Wanderings on the Japanese High Road_
-
- BY LUCIAN SWIFT KIRTLAND
-
- ILLUSTRATED
-
- [Illustration]
-
- NEW YORK
- GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
-
- * * * * *
-
-COPYRIGHT, 1918, BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
-
-COPYRIGHT, 1918, BY HARPER & BROTHER
-
-PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
-
- * * * * *
-
-TO H. W. J.
-
-
-
-
-FOREWORD FROM THE ALHAMBRA TO KYOTO
-
-
-It was spring and it was Spain. Sunset brought the white-haired
-custodian of the Court of the Lions to the balcony overhanging my
-fountain. His blue coat bespoke officialdom but his Andalusian lisp
-veiled this suggestion of compulsion. His wishes for my evening’s
-happiness, nevertheless, were to be interpreted as a request for my
-going. The Alhambra had to be locked up for the night.
-
-I was lying outstretched on the stones of Lindaroxa’s Court with my
-head against a pillar. The last light of the April sun had scaled the
-walls and was losing itself among the top-most bobbing oranges of
-Lindaroxa’s tree. To dream there must be to have one’s dreams come
-true, some inheritance from Moorish alchemy.
-
-Despite the setting, I was dreaming nothing of the Alhambra, not even
-of Lindaroxa. I was thinking of a friend of irresponsible imagination
-but of otherwise responsibility. I was wondering where he could be. On
-the previous summer we had walked the highroads of England and I had
-found him a most satisfying disputatious companion of enquiring mind.
-We had talked somewhat of a similar wandering in Japan, a vagabondage
-free from cicerones and away from the show places, but although we had
-treated this variety of imagining with due respect, we had never an
-idea of transmuting it into action.
-
-The Alhambra had to be locked up for the night. The custodian bowed
-low, and I bowed low, in unhurried obligation to dignity, and I walked
-away to my inn. There I found a cablegram from America. It read:
-
-“Can meet you Kyoto June two months’ walking.”
-
-It was signed by the other dreamer of the Two-Sworded Trails.
-
-I cabled back, “yes.” The message gone, I awoke to the reality of time
-and space. All Europe, Siberia, Manchuria, and Korea spread out their
-distances on the map and were lying between me and the keeping of my
-promise.
-
- * * * * *
-
-It was in the darkness of midnight and it was raining when I stepped
-off the express to the Kyoto platform. For a month the world had been
-revolving giddily under railway carriage succeeding railway carriage
-until it seemed that the changing peoples outside the car windows could
-be taking on their ceaseless variety only through some illusion within
-my own eyes.
-
-I stood for a while in the shelter of the overhanging, dripping roof
-of the Kyoto station awaiting some providential development, but
-probably the local god of wayfarers did not judge my plight worry of
-special interposition. Finally I found a drenched youth in a stupor of
-sleep between the shafts of his ’ricksha. His dreams were evidently
-depressing, for he awoke with appreciation for the escape. We bent
-over his paper lantern and at last coaxed a spurt of flame from a box
-of unspeakable matches. (The government decrees that matches must be
-given away and not sold by the tobacconists. Japan’s spirit of the art
-of giving should not be judged by this item. The generosity is in the
-acceptance of the matches.) I climbed into the ’ricksha and stowed
-myself away under the hood, naming the inn which had been appointed
-by cablegram for the meeting place. The boy pattered along in his
-straw sandals at full speed through the mist, shouting hoarsely at the
-corners. At last he dug his heels into the pebbles and stopped, and
-pounded at the inn door until someone came and slid back the bolts.
-
-Yes, the clerk answered my question, a guest with the name of Owre had
-arrived that day at noon and had sat up for me until midnight. He had
-left word that I should be taken to his room. Thus I was led through
-dark halls until we came to the door. We pushed it open and called into
-the darkness. Back came a welcome--somewhat sleepy. The clerk struck a
-match and I discovered my vagabond companion crawling out from under
-the mosquito netting of his four-poster. Between us we had covered
-twenty thousand miles for that handshake.
-
-“It’s the moment to be highly dramatic,” he said with an eloquent
-flourish of his pajam’d arm, and he sent the clerk for a bottle of
-native beer. It came, warm and of infinite foam, but we managed to find
-a few drops of liquid at the bottom with which to drink a toast. The
-toast was to “The Road.”
-
-
-
-
-CONTENTS
-
-
- CHAPTER PAGE
-
- I. The Quest for O-Hori-San 19
-
- II. The Ancient Tokaido 26
-
- III. “I Have Eaten of the Furnace of Hades” 56
-
- IV. The Miles of the Rice Plains 72
-
- V. The Ancient Nakescendo 104
-
- VI. The Adventure of the Bottle Inn 127
-
- VII. The Ideals of a Samurai 157
-
- VIII. Many Queries 173
-
- XI. The Inn at Kama-Suwa 188
-
- X. The Guest of the Other Tower Room 200
-
- XI. Antiques, Temples, and Teaching Charm 212
-
- XII. Tsuro-Matsu and Hisu-Matsu 223
-
- XIII. A Log of Incidents 243
-
- XIV. Concerning Inn Maids and Also the Elixir
- of Life 263
-
- XV. The End of the Trail 271
-
- XVI. Beach Combers 287
-
-
-
-
-ILLUSTRATIONS
-
-
- “Foreigners” _Frontispiece_
-
- PAGE
-
- Kyoto Back Streets 28
-
- The First Rest Spot of the Second Day 48
-
- The Kori (Ice) Flag of the “Adventure” 84
-
- We Came Upon a Wistful Eyed, Timid Fairy of
- the Mountains 128
-
- “In the Fourteenth Year of My Youth I Took
- the Vow that My Life Should Be Lived in
- Honouring the Holy Images of Buddha” 142
-
- We Decided to Take the Most Attractive Turn,
- Right or Wrong 168
-
- Is it Idolatrous to Worship Fuji? 184
-
- The Boys Must Be Taught Loyalty; the Daughters
- of the Empire Must Be Taught Grace 226
-
- We Bought Paper Umbrellas 248
-
- O-Shio-San in the Bosen-ka Inn Garden 278
-
- Slowly the Harbour of Yokohama Was Curtained
- and Disappeared Behind a Brightly Glistening
- Mist 290
-
- * * * * *
-
-SAMURAI TRAILS
-
- * * * * *
-
-SAMURAI TRAILS
-
-
-
-
-I THE QUEST FOR O-HORI-SAN
-
-
-After our melodramatic toast of the night before it would have
-been only orthodox to have said good-bye to our Occidental inn at
-sunrise and to have sought the road. But we had a call to make. The
-fulfilling of the obligation proved to be momentous. There is one
-never-to-be-broken rule for the foreigner in the Orient: He must
-consider himself always to be of extreme magnitude in the perspective,
-and that any action which concerns himself is momentous. If Asia had
-possessed this supreme self-concern, she might to-day be playing
-political chess with colonies in Europe. The details of our call are
-thus set down in faithful sequence.
-
-“If ever you come to Japan, be sure to look me up.” This had been the
-farewell of Kenjiro Hori when he said good-bye to his university days
-in America. Hori’s affection for America had had the vigour which
-marks the vitality of Japanese loyalty. He had always singled out our
-better qualities with gratifying disregard for opposites.
-
-We were, however, without an address except that we thought he might
-be in Kobe; but it seemed unreasonable that after travelling all the
-way to the Antipodes we should then be baulked by a mere detail. In the
-faith of this logic we took an early train to Kobe, and the first sign
-that we saw read: “Information Bureau for Foreigners.”
-
-The man in uniform peering out of the box window was so smiling and
-so evidently desirous of being helpful that whether we had needed
-information or not, it would have been exceedingly discourteous not
-to have asked some question. We inquired the address of Dr. Kenjiro
-Hori. The information dispenser thumbed all his heap of directories.
-He appeared to be unravelling his thread by a most intricate system of
-cross reference. Then he looked at us with another smile.
-
-“Did you find it?” we asked.
-
-“I find no address,” said he, “but I tell ’ricksha boys take you. Ah,
-so!”
-
-Such a challenge was impossible to refuse. We got into the ’rickshas
-and the men bent their necks and jerked the wheels into motion with
-strange disregard for any bee-line direction to any particular place.
-It appeared to be a most casual choice whether we took one corner or
-another. This rambling went on for some time. Suddenly they held back
-on the shafts and said: “Here!” We were at the door of a wholesale
-importing house. No one within had ever heard of O-Hori-san. When we
-came back to the street with this information the coolies seemed not at
-all surprised. They shrugged their shoulders at our mild expostulation
-as if implying, “Of course, if he isn’t here he must be some other
-place.”
-
-After another panting dash they stopped and said: “Here!” It was
-obvious without inquiring that Hori could not be in that shallow,
-open-fronted shop. “Very well,” the shoulders answered us and on we
-went. We stopped for another time with the now familiar “Here!” We had
-traversed half Kobe. Our futile questions seemed to have nothing to do
-with any next step. Strangely, instead of having lost our faith it had
-been growing that by some system the coolies were following the quest.
-At this stop, when we looked inside the entrance, there was the name
-of Dr. Kenjiro Hori on a brass plate. We walked up the stairs and rang
-a bell and inquired for Dr. Hori of the boy who came.
-
-We asked him to tell O-Hori-san that O-Owre-san and O-Kirt-land-san
-would like to see him. Of all arrangements of consonants (w’s, r’s,
-k’s, and l’s) to harass the Japanese tongue, our two names stand in
-the first group of the first list of impossibles. We could overhear
-the distressed boy’s struggle with “O-Owre-san.” I was impressed that
-from that instant Alfred Owre became “O-Owre-san.” It was a secular
-confirmation too positive to be gainsaid.
-
-Small wonder then that Hori had not the slightest idea who was waiting
-at the door; but his surprise, when he appeared, was so smoothed out
-and repressed in his formal _samurai_ welcome that we were tempted into
-moody thinking that through some psychosis the frightful slaughter of
-our names had destroyed his remembrance of our rightful personalities.
-
-Friends appeared and were introduced with ceremonial formalism. We sat
-in a circle and sipped iced mineral water. Hori inquired politely of
-our plans and then sat back in silence behind his thick spectacles. The
-icy temperature of the mineral water was the temperature of the verve
-of the conversation. The day itself was rather hot; a damp, depressing
-heat. I tried to fan off the flies which stuck tenaciously with sharp,
-sudden buzzings.
-
-Of all varieties of uncreative activity, the analyzing of moods brings
-the least compensation--but that does not mean avoidance. During that
-hour a disturbing remoteness to everyday reality rasped as if something
-untoward had been conjured up. O-Owre-san and I talked, trying to
-explain our plans. We repeated that we hadn’t any desire to visit the
-great places, but our saying so sounded childish and impertinent,--very
-tiresome. A dignified ancient kept forcing us into a position of
-defence. To put us out of ease was his most remote wish, of course,
-but he did insist with patriotic eloquence (suggesting a Californian
-defending his climate) that the show places deserved to be paid
-respect. We insisted that our tourist consciences had been appeased
-long before, and that we now intended to run away from foreign hotels,
-from the Honourable Society of Guides, from the Imperial Welcome
-Society, from all cicerones, and from all centres where the customs and
-conveniences of our Western variety of civilization are so cherishingly
-catered to.
-
-“But,” interrupted Hori, “you do not understand. You will find no one
-prepared for foreigners. You will find not one word of English. You
-must not do such a thing.” With Japan so earnestly providing the proper
-accommodations at the proper places, it was not playing the game, so to
-speak, to refuse.
-
-When an argument of policy is between an amateur and an expert
-(particularly so when between a foreigner and a native) the tyro can
-afford to compromise on not one atom of his ignorance. If he concedes
-at all he will be overwhelmed completely. We refused Hori’s warnings,
-remaining impervious to any advice which did not further our plan of
-action exactly as outlined.
-
-“Very well, then,” said Hori, “I shall have to go with you.”
-
- * * * * *
-
-Under the excitement of talking plans Hori slipped out of his
-formalism, and became exactly his old-time self. Until the following
-week, however, he would not be able to turn his solicitude into action.
-He did not lose his cataclysm of positive doubt over entrusting the
-Empire in our hands, but as there was no escape from leaving us to our
-own devices for those days (and we made known a certain vanity in our
-own resources) he at length agreed to meet us in Nagoya, and we planned
-a route which would bring us there with our rendezvous at the European
-hotel.
-
-
-
-
-II THE ANCIENT TOKAIDO
-
-
-It was the morning of our last sleep in _seiyo-jin_ beds. I dreamed
-that I was still dreaming in Lindaroxa’s Court. O-Owre-san shook my
-four-poster and begged me to consider the matter-of-factness of rolling
-out from my mosquito netting and taking a bite of cold breakfast.
-The sensuous breeze of the East, which comes for a brief hour with
-the first light of the sun, was blowing the curtains back from the
-window. I was willing to consider the getting up and the eating of the
-breakfast and I was willing to call both endeavours matter-of-fact,
-but the imagination that it was to be the first day on the highroad
-belonged to no such mere negativity of living.
-
-I began packing and was inspired to improvise a wonderful ballad. It
-was concerned with the beginning of trails. O-Owre-san was busy and
-was uninterested in my stanzas. He might very well have served genius
-by taking them down. The all-inclusiveness embraced, I remember, a
-master picture of cold dawn in the Rockies, with pack ponies snorting,
-biting, and bucking; and I sang blithely of every other sort of first
-morning start, embroidering the memories of their roaring language and
-their unpackable dunnage. But in Japan one does not roar--or one roars
-alone--and I had known just what was going into my rucksack for weeks.
-
-Our route was to be the famed Tokaido, that ancient road running
-between the great capitals of the West and the East, from Kyoto to
-Tokyo. We were to find its first stretch at the turn to the left
-when we should cross the bridge over the Kamo-Gawa. This river cuts
-Kyoto between two long rows of houses built on piles and overhanging
-its waters. In summer the stream is most domesticated and gives,
-charitably, a large area of its dry bed as a pleasure ground for
-_fêtes_, but when the snows are melting back in the hills in the days
-of spring and blossoms, it becomes temperamental and the peasants say
-that it has drunk unwisely of _saké_. It is then that the water winks
-rakishly and splashes the tips of its waves at pretty _geishas_, who
-come to scatter cherry petals on the current. But we saw only the
-summer domesticity on our June morning. A school of children were
-wading in the shallow current, fishing with nets. Their _kimonos_ were
-tied high above their sturdy fat legs. We leaned over the rail and
-they squinted back into the sun at us and called out good-morning. Then
-we stepped off the bridge and our boots were on the long road that
-leads to Tokyo.
-
-[Illustration: KYOTO BACK STREETS]
-
-Hokusai has pictured the Tokaido in his prints--the villages and the
-mountains, the plains and the sea, the peasants and the pilgrims,
-the _ronins_ and the priests. He did add his immortal overlay to the
-tradition of the highway’s immortality, but even the great Hokusai
-could only be an incident in the spread of its renown. The Tokaido’s
-personality was no less haughty and arrogant long centuries before the
-artist. It was built by the gods, as everyone knows, and not by man.
-This may be the reason why it has fallen upon hard days in these modern
-times, now that the race of man has assumed the task of relieving
-the weary gods of so many of their duties. Axes have cut down the
-cryptomerias for miles because the trees interfered with telegraph
-wires; and furthermore, a new highway has now been built between the
-capitals, a road of steel. For most of the way this new road follows
-alongside the old, although sometimes departing in a straighter line.
-The vaulting arrogance of all was when man took the name “The Tokaido”
-for a railway. The trains pass by the ancient shrines of the wayside
-with no tarrying for moments of contemplation. To-day a _samurai_, with
-a newspaper under one arm and a lunch box under the other--his two
-swords have been thus displaced--goes from Kyoto to Tokyo in as few
-hours as were the days of his father’s journeying.
-
-When the feudal emperors made this pilgrimage they were carried in
-silk-hung, lacquered palanquins, and fierce-eyed, two-sworded retainers
-cleared the streets and sealed the houses so that no prying eyes might
-violate sancrosanctity. As for our pilgrimage we appreciated that
-we were not sacred emperors and that we were coming along without
-announcement. The inhabitants kept the sides of their houses open and
-stared out upon us. We felt free, discreetly, to return their glances
-from under the brims of our pith helmets, but occasionally this freedom
-felt a panicky restraint within itself to keep eyes on the road.
-
-In the legend of her famous ride, Lady Godiva, I believe, had the
-houses sealed before her approach as did those deified Nipponese
-emperors. We doubted, that early morning, whether the dwellers along
-the Tokaido, if they had been told Lady Godiva’s tale, would have had
-appreciation for her chastely wishing not to be seen, except as a
-mystifying and whimsical eccentricity. To preserve a deity from mortal
-eyes--yes, that might have been conceded as a conventional necessity;
-but our surety grew after a short advance that if the fulfilling of
-a similar vow by a Nipponese Lady Godiva should have its penance
-depending merely upon the absence of attire, she could ride her palfrey
-in the environs of Kyoto inconspicuously and without exciting comment.
-At least such costuming would be in local fashion the first one or two
-hours after sunrise.
-
-A mile is a mile the first day, and we had had three or four miles in
-the silence which comes from the feeling that one is really off.
-
-“It’s a good morning for boiling out,” remarked O-Owre-san, by way of
-breaking the spell.
-
-We were in a narrow valley walking head on into the sun. It was an
-excellent morning for boiling out.
-
-I suggested that it was a good time to take the first rest. We found a
-spot in a temple garden up a flight of exceedingly steep stone steps.
-Usually to throw off one’s pack is to achieve the supreme emotional
-satisfaction of laziness, but on this first essay we failed to relax.
-It was perhaps partly that we had not yet boiled out our Western
-restlessness among other poisons, but also there was to be counted in
-as opposed to the quietude of the garden a most unrestful suggestion
-contributed by a conspicuous sign written in English and nailed to a
-post. It read:
-
-“Foreigners Visiting Must Dismount Horses and Not Ride Into Temple.”
-
-There are visitors in the East whose idea of sightseeing the heathen
-gods might not preclude their riding their horses up onto the lap of
-the bronze Buddha of Kamakura; but how the priest imagined that horses
-were to be urged up those stone steps was a mystery veiled from our
-understanding. It even created a pride in our alien blood that we were
-a race thought to be capable of such magic.
-
-The Tokaido winds through the city of Otsu. It enters proudly as the
-chief street but escapes between rows of mean houses, becoming as
-nearly a characterless lane as the Tokaido can anywhere be. The town is
-the chief port of Lake Biwa of the famed eight views, and it is just
-beyond this town that the upstart railway takes itself off, together
-with its cindery smoke, on a straighter line than the Tokaido. The
-highway bends to the south in a swinging circle and wanders along
-for many a quiet mile before the two meet again. At the angle of the
-parting of the old and the new we stopped at a rest house for a bottle
-of _ramune_. This beverage is a carbonated, chemically compounded
-lemonade. Its wide distribution does possess one merit. The bottles
-may often be used as a sort of guide book. Almost every little shop
-along the road has a few bottles cooling in a wooden bucket of water.
-Thus, if a stranger is walking from one town to another and if, as is
-inevitable, he has been unable to learn anything about distances along
-the way, he may at least judge that he is approximately half through
-his journey when the labels on the bottles change the address of their
-origin to that of the town which he is seeking.
-
-The _ramune_ which we had at Otsu was warm and the shop was stifling
-and the flies were sticky. My clinging flannel shirt was unbuttoned, my
-sleeves were rolled up, and I had tied a handkerchief about my head. We
-carried our bottles out to a low bench to escape the baked odours of
-the shop, and while we were sitting and sipping two Japanese gentlemen
-came down the road, looking very cool under their sun umbrellas and
-in their immaculate _kimonos_. Orthodox ambition in the temperate
-zone aims for respectability, power, and property, but in the tropics
-any temporary struggle, whether in war or trade, has as its lure the
-reward of a long, aristocratic, cooling calm. Our Japanese gentlemen,
-superiorly aloof to the perspiring world, appeared to be amusedly
-observing the habits and customs of the foreigner as exhibited by
-us. Their staring rankled. Until then I had been happy in the exact
-condition of my perspiration. Their observance now chilled the beads
-on my back. Any number of coolies could have come and stared, and
-called us brother--for all of that--but we were being made to realize
-suddenly that in the Orient the lower the blood temperature the higher
-the caste mark. The parent germ of all convention in the world is “not
-to lose face.” It has been most highly developed by the Chinese and the
-Anglo-Saxon. For the Chinese it is personal, but it makes the renegade
-Anglo-Saxon, despite himself, keep on trying to hold up his chin in a
-blind call of blood loyalty to his own mob when facing the Asiatic.
-
-We picked up our packs and started off. It was either to retire or
-nihilistically to hurl the packs at their immaculateness. Just as we
-began to move one of them said: “Do you speak English?”
-
-The truth must be told that we recanted much of our wrath after the
-friendliness of a half-hour’s roadside palaver. The meeting, however,
-had a uniqueness of experience far beyond anything merely casual. It
-allowed us the extraordinary record that we once did acquire local
-information from a Japanese whose conception of daily time and highroad
-space had some coincidence with our Western science of absolute fact.
-Mr. Yoshida, he who had called after us, knew that corner of Japan and
-he told us about it.
-
-O-Owre-san says: “Certain Japanese inexplicabilities are extremely
-ubiquitous.” He thus confines himself to six words. I cannot. I
-require a paragraph. Despite the ubiquitous mystery, there is always
-one certainty: Whatever may be the thought processes of the Japanese
-concerning hours, distances, and direction, the inquirer may be sure of
-this: the answer will not be concerned with answering the question. The
-courteous answerer earnestly uses his judgment to determine what reply
-is likely to be most pleasing. If you appear weary, or in a hurry, then
-the distance to go is never very long. If you appear to be enjoying
-your walk, then the distance is a long way. The village which has been
-declared just around the bend of the road may be two _ri_ off. This is
-the desire to please, inculcated by the _Bushido_ creed of honourable
-conduct. It may be thought that such paradoxical solicitude becomes
-extremely irritating, but rarely does it. The wish to help is real,
-at least, and is not merely the carelessness of superficiality. The
-peasant may tell you that you have but a step to go, but if you are
-lost he will turn aside from his own path and show you the way, though
-it be for miles.
-
-We noted down Mr. Yoshida’s details concerning the inns and villages
-which we should find along the way to distant Nagoya. Experience soon
-told us to hold fast to his information, no matter the contradictions
-that were agreeably offered in its stead.
-
-We shouldered our packs and again were off. After a time O-Owre-san
-said: “I met Mr. Yoshida once at a dinner in America.”
-
-“Why didn’t you tell him so?” I gasped.
-
-O-Owre-san seemed surprised at my amazement. As nearly as I could
-determine he must have completely disassociated the metabolic Owre
-sitting on the bench in front of the rest house, drinking warm
-_ramune_, and the Owre of practical America. Perhaps the Japanese
-believe in the “unfathomable mystery of the American mind.”
-
-We had six hours through the hills ahead of us if we were to keep on
-that night to Minakuchi. Our mentor had told us that one of the most
-luxurious of all the country inns in Japan was sequestered there. To
-hurry to any particular place was against our code, but this time it
-seemed reasonable to make an honourable exception.
-
-The sun went down behind the paddy fields. The muddy waters of the
-terraces caught the gleaming yellows and reds, but our backs were
-against this suffusion of colour. Into the darkness ahead the narrow
-road led on and on. Says the essayist: “The artist should know hunger
-and want.” But surely not the art patron. He cannot perform his
-function of appreciation unless comfortably removed from immediate
-pangs. If I were to be an enthusiast over that wonderful sunset--as
-O-Owre-san persisted in suggesting--I needed food. It had been fifteen
-hours since our cold breakfast and I thought of the inn with an ardency
-of vision.
-
-When we did see the town it sprang up abruptly out of the fields. All
-along the streets the lights were shining through the paper walls.
-We made inquiry for the _yado-ya_ and in a moment were surrounded by
-volunteer guides. They are always diverting, the Japanese children,
-running along on their wooden clogs and looking up into your face.
-
-Maids without number came running to the entrance of that aristocratic
-inn, and dropped to their knees. They bowed until their glossy black
-hair touched the ground. The auguries all appeared auspicious. Then
-came the mistress. There were many polite words, but no one took our
-rucksacks and no one invited us in. Every second’s waiting for the bath
-and dinner was very, very long.
-
-My Japanese of twelve years before had been but a few words. Days on
-the Trans-Siberian of grammar and dictionary study had not even brought
-back that little, but now suddenly I began to understand what the
-mistress of that inn was saying. I had no vanity in my understanding.
-The understanding was that we were not wanted. I had been tired
-and I had been hungry when we reached the door, but now I knew the
-unutterable weariness of smelling a dinner which may not be eaten.
-
-The crowd was amused, but it showed its amusement considerately and
-with restraint. Nevertheless two _seiyo-jins_ had lost face. Apparently
-the mistress did not wish such suspicious-looking foreigners, grimy,
-dustless, and coatless, to remain even in the same town. She called two
-’rickshas. She named the next village. She had this much magnanimity
-that she purposed giving us the chance of orderly retreat.
-
-I tried to continue smiling with dignity and affability. It is somewhat
-of a strain on diplomatic smiles when the subject of discussion is
-vitally concerned with one’s own starvation. Nevertheless I did smile.
-I explained that whatever we did we were not going on to the next town.
-I knew the word for “another,” and the word for “inn,” and how to
-say, “Is it?” And thus I asked: “Another inn here, is it?” There was
-little incitement to believe that she understood except that her mouth
-pouted ever so slightly as if in surprise that I should imply that the
-mistress of such a superior inn could have any knowledge concerning
-mere bourgeois caravansaries.
-
-O-Owre-san, during this parleying, had put on his coat and in other
-subtle ways had transformed himself into a conventional foreigner.
-After that he had settled into repose and silence. I looked at him.
-I searched for a flaw. I declared by the great Tokaido itself that
-with such a fright-producing handicap as his ultra-Occidental beard we
-should never find resting spots outside the local jails.
-
-“Humph!” said he. “Stop talking for a minute and put on your coat.”
-
-I succumbed. “All right, then,” I said. “Here’s for the magic of that
-vestment of respectability.”
-
-I sat down on the ground and untied the bag. The prophecy of magic was
-too feeble by far for the prestidigitation which followed. I shook out
-the folds of the garment which is called a coat, a mere two sleeves, a
-back and a front and a few buttons. The circle came closer. But it was
-not the coat after all which caused our audience so graciously to begin
-giving back our lost faces to us--it was the supermagic of one leg of a
-pair of silk pajamas. A black-eyed jackdaw, a trifle more daring in her
-curiosity than the others, discovered the hem of that garment tipping
-out from a corner of my pack. She gave it a jerk, and then another.
-Next she looked up with coaxing persuasion, suggesting encouragement to
-tug again.
-
-O-Owre-san had insisted that I have those pajamas made in Kyoto. He has
-theories about the necessity of silk pajamas. I never, even remotely,
-followed the dialectics of his reasons, but I must add to the credit
-side of such theorizings that pajamas are a most intriguing garment to
-pass around for the benefit of an inn courtyard crowd. The maid gave
-the next tug and out they came. Everybody reached forward a finger and
-a thumb to feel.
-
-Between the time of the discovery of the silk pajamas and their
-repacking--I cold-heartedly refused to exhibit a putting of them
-on--we rose from nobodies to persons of importance in Minakuchi.
-Even the mistress hinted that she had mentally recounted her space
-for guests and had thought of a luxurious corner of amply sufficient
-dimensions to spread two beds. There was, of course, no sane reason why
-we should not, then and there, have taken advantage of this altered
-atmosphere, but for me the inn had lost its savour. Anyone who has
-ever had some similar twist of psychology will appreciate the inside
-of my irrationalism. Others will not or cannot. I moved over to the
-’rickshas. O-Owre-san remained lingering. He, too, had noted the change
-in the mistress’s attitude.
-
-“How about making one more overture?” he suggested.
-
-“Perhaps so,” I answered, “but don’t you feel that any experience
-which this inn might now hold for us would be an anti-climax after our
-present dramatic triumph?”
-
-O-Owre-san regretfully sniffed the fragrant steam drifting from the
-kitchen braziers.
-
-“No, I decidedly don’t feel so,” said he, “but of course, if I have to
-save your dilettante soul from anti-climaxes, I suppose I can sleep in
-a rice field--but whatever you do, do it!”
-
-I threw our bags into the ’rickshas and we climbed in after them, and
-were off to the other inn.
-
-We made our impact against this objective much more catapultic. There
-was nothing tentative in our kicking off our shoes and getting well
-under the lintel before any mistress of authority could appear. Our
-onslaught paralysed the advance line of receiving maidens, and we
-settled down on the interior mats and assumed a contemplative calm.
-We continued to sit thus oblivious to the excitement heaped upon
-excitement. We were islands of fact in the midst of an ocean of
-conversation. After the ocean had dried up because none had words left,
-we were still obviously remaining, and there was nothing left to do but
-to make the best of us. A maid picked up our bags and bowed very low.
-She retreated toward the inner darkness and we followed, first along a
-corridor and then up a flight of railless stairs to a room open on two
-sides against a courtyard garden.
-
-To have been in harmony at all with the ancient traditions of the
-Tokaido, coolies should have been carrying our luggage in huge red
-and gold lacquered chests. The room to which we were taken would have
-been a room of dignity even for a _daimyo_. The maid placed our two
-dusty Occidental rucksacks on the shelf under the _kakemona_. Their
-very presence piped a chanty that our possessing that room was ironic
-comedy. We began to laugh. A _ne-san_ is as ever ready to laugh as
-water is to flow, and with no other grand cause than just the doing.
-Our maid began laughing with us, and up the stairs came all the other
-maids in curiosity. Ensconced, their interest seemed permanent. Our
-vocabulary was very far from being sufficient to protect our Western
-prudery. As a last resort we took them by their shoulders and turned
-them around and urged them in this unsubtle manner from the door.
-
-I began undressing at one end of the room, leaving my garments in my
-wake as I rolled over the soft matting. When I reached the _kakemona_
-shelf, I slipped into my silk pajamas. When we went below to find the
-honourable bath we at least left the room looking not so bare as our
-meagre luggage had predicted.
-
-We returned from the bath and banked our cushions on the narrow balcony
-overhanging the garden. A slight breeze stirred the branches of the
-trees and started swinging the paper lanterns which hung over a stone
-fountain. Other guests of the inn had finished their dinners and it was
-their toothbrush hour. Dressed in their cotton _kimonos_ they stood
-bending over shining brass basins filled from the well fountain. It
-would probably be useless to ask any Occidental to imagine that the
-function of teeth cleansing with long, flexible handled brushes may
-be a social and picturesque addendum to garden life; we have too long
-looked upon ablutions as being merely necessitous.
-
-Dinner came. Whether strict philosophical truth lies in the belief
-that every sensation is unique, or whether in the contrary that no
-experience can be other than a repetition of some situation which has
-been staged over and over again in the turning of the cosmic wheel, I
-shall continue to maintain that a wanderer who has gone from half after
-four in the morning, fortified only by a mouthful of cold breakfast,
-until nine at night, and has walked something more than twenty-five
-miles under a hot sun, and has had one dinner snatched away from him,
-and then finds himself risen from a bath and sitting in the slow, warm,
-evening air in a room of simple harmony, and then a small lacquer
-table is placed before him with the alluring odours of five steaming
-dishes ascending to his nose--yes, I shall continue to maintain that
-such a wanderer has a human right to protest that such a situation is
-an event.
-
-They replenished the tables with second supplies of the first dishes
-and with first and second dishes of new courses. We had two kinds of
-soup and three varieties of fish; we had chicken and we had vegetables
-and boiled seaweed; and we finished with innumerable bowls of rice. At
-the end they brought iced water and tea and renewed the charcoal in the
-braziers for our smoking. The tobacco clouds drifted from our lips.
-Only one possible thought was worth putting into words and that was the
-request to have the beds laid. However, the evening was destined not
-for such sensuous oblivion.
-
-Breaking in upon this godly languor came a visitation by the entire
-family of the inn. The family particularly embraced in its intimacy
-also the maid-servants and the men-servants. Even the baby had been
-wakened to come. In the beginning O-Owre-san offered cigarettes in
-lieu of conversation and I thumbed the dictionary for compliments for
-the baby. The blue-bound book of phrases proved to be rich in fitting
-adjectives, and my efforts were rewarded with sufficient approval to
-encourage us to go on with a search for compliments for mother and
-father and all the others. The baby crawled forward inch by inch until
-one of the strange foreign giants courageously picked it up. Our guests
-had first sat in a very formal half-circle, but under the expansiveness
-of growing goodwill the line was breaking.
-
-It was a night, however, of many visitations. Hardly had we, as hosts,
-with the aid of the baby, carried the attack with some success against
-rigid self-consciousness when there came the sound of a step on the
-stair. Immediately the mood of laughter changed to one of marked
-quietness and expectancy. The circle readjusted itself. The mother
-snatched back the baby and by some technic ended its expressions of
-curiosity and reduced it, as only a Japanese baby can be reduced, to a
-pair of staring eyes. We sat waiting the coming of the intruder. The
-_ne-sans_ bowed their heads to the floor.
-
-The awaited one was a tall young man, with round, pinkish, glistening
-limbs, and a round face. He dropped heavily to his knees and bent over
-until his forehead touched the mat, continuing this salutation for some
-time. Then he sat up smiling and satisfied. He had brought with him
-three or four foreign books and he was, without need of introduction,
-the village scholar, Minakuchi’s representative of modernity, a
-precious and honoured cabinet of wisdom newly come home from the
-University. After his smiling expansion he next composed his features
-to solemnity. He adjusted his _kimono_ taut over his knees. Then he
-waited until the last quiver in his audience succumbed into the extreme
-quietude of painful tension. Even the breeze lulled. He spoke:
-
-“I--am--in--this--room!”
-
-The heads of the circle nodded and renodded to each other. What had the
-foreigners to answer to that?
-
-We tried to express a proper appreciation.
-
-“It--is--cold--to-day--but--it--was--raining--yesterday.”
-
-An opinion about temperature is more or less a personal judgment, but
-the falling of raindrops is a material fact. On the yesterday it had
-not rained.
-
-This time the circle could not restrain itself but sighed with positive
-and audible contentment. Minakuchi had been vindicated. If the audience
-showed content with its spokesman, it was as nothing compared to his
-own contentment. The artist in tongues now opened his books with a
-business-like air and put on his spectacles. His visit was not, then,
-purely social. The sentences which followed were, as nearly as we could
-determine, questions to us. They came, a word at a time, out of his
-dictionary. The conventions of speech which the Japanese employ in
-polite inquiry have been moulded by symbolism, mysticism, and analogy
-into phrases most remote from the original rudiment. A word by word
-translation into English carries no meaning whatsoever. We answered by:
-“Oh, yes, yes,--of course.”
-
-The baby was growing restless. The scholar took in this sign from the
-corner of his eye. His dramatic sense was keen. He had no intention
-that his audience should become bored and he snapped shut the books
-with the pronounced meaning that everything had been settled as far
-as he was concerned. Then he clapped his hands loudly. Instantly from
-below came more footsteps and a clank-clanking of metal on wood, and
-in a moment into the room walked an officer of the police. His heavy
-dress uniform was white, with gold braid twisting round and about the
-sleeves and shoulders. His sword, the secret of the rhythmic clanking,
-was almost as tall as himself. He faced us rigidly and without a smile,
-then slowly sank to his knees and dropped his head to the mat. I have
-faith that that man, without an extra heart-beat, would have joined a
-sure death charge across a battlefield, but his present duty brought
-the red blush of painful embarrassment to his olive skin from the edge
-of his tight collar to the fringe of his black hair. He was silently
-and perspiringly suffering in the cause of duty--but what was his duty?
-
-I do not know just how we gained the idea, if it were not through
-telepathy, but we decided that he was discounting the abilities of
-the interpreter down to an extreme minimum, although he listened
-attentively enough to some long statement. After the explanation, which
-seemingly concerned us, the youth arose and with much dignity withdrew
-from the room followed by many expressions of appreciation from the
-inn family. Every one of us who had been left behind, except the baby
-who had gone to sleep, now waited for some continuance of the drama,
-but nothing proceeded to materialize. I grew so sleepy that if the
-policeman had suddenly said that we were to be executed at sunrise the
-most interesting part of the information would have been the finding
-out whether we could sleep until that hour. As I did not know how
-polite it might be to say that _we_ were tired, I found a phrase,
-“_You_ must be very tired,” to which I linked, “therefore _we_ shall go
-to bed.”
-
-This veiled ultimatum was as graciously accepted as if they had been
-waiting those exact words to free them to go their way. The _ne-sans_
-ran for mattresses and prepared the beds. Then they hung the great
-mosquito netting. After that we all said our good-nights, all except
-the police official who, image like, remained sitting against the wall.
-
-By earnest beseeching we had persuaded the maids not to close the
-wooden _shogi_ around the balcony. Thus, when we turned out the lamp
-and stretched out on our beds, the starlight came in. It shone on the
-white uniform. I had never happened to have the experience of going to
-sleep under the eye of a policeman but realism proved that practice was
-unnecessary. Sinking to oblivion was as positive as a plunge. The vast
-embracing fluid of rest closed in over my head.
-
-I was dreamless until I awoke under a sudden, crushing nightmare. I
-thought that an army of white and gold uniforms had mobilized and
-was tramping over my chest, taking care that every heel should fall
-pitilessly. The one policeman who existed in reality had been trying
-to wake me up and he had evidently had a task, but as soon as he
-was sure that my eyes were open to stay he forwent further assault.
-He had lighted the lamp and I could see back of him a naked coolie,
-convulsively gasping for breath. The man was carrying an envelope.
-The officer took the envelope and then sent him off. He reeled to the
-stairs holding his panting sides. The officer then took out a sheet of
-paper and handed it to me. The page was written in modified English but
-was quite intelligible. While the sentences were nothing more than a
-series of questions, at the same time they gave a clue to the mystery
-of the evening.
-
-Our inn-keeper had had the inspiration to call upon the
-scholar-interpreter to ask us the questions which all travellers
-must answer for the police record in every town where a stop is made
-for the night. We had been correct about there being one doubter in
-Minakuchi of the ability of the interpreter. In a plot for his own
-amusement the police officer had sent a runner to a neighbouring town
-to have the conventional list of questions translated into English,
-and thus to compare our written answers with the answers given him
-by the youth. There they were, the questions: who were we--how
-old--profession--antecedents whence and whither. If one is tempted into
-wayward rebellion against such minuteness of interrogation, it is wise
-to remember that the claim of a sense of humour may be considered very
-poor testimony in a Japanese court perchance misunderstandings at any
-time arise and the answers in the police records have to be looked up.
-
-I wrote out the answers. With no one in the room as a witness except
-ourselves, the officer allowed a twinkle to come into his eye. He even
-winked and pointed to where the youth had sat. Then he shut up the
-paper in his register and blew out the light and clanked off down the
-stairs. Again we slept.
-
-The etiquette of an inn is that all crude appearance of hurry should
-be avoided by waiting in one’s room in the morning for one’s bill. The
-Japanese do not travel hurriedly; if they wish an early start they get
-up proportionately in time. We had asked for an early breakfast and
-it had been served at the hour which we had named. We had happened to
-have good intentions about not rushing. Nevertheless, of course, we
-fell into an inevitable hurry. After breakfast I had been so interested
-in sitting on our balcony watching the waking up of the day that I
-forgot to pack my rucksack. O-Owre-san said that he would pay the bill
-downstairs and wait at the door.
-
-When I arrived under the lintel where we had left our shoes I felt as
-if I were intruding. The bearded foreigner was surrounded by the inn
-family and each member was handing him a present. There were blue and
-white Japanese towels folded into decorated envelopes, and there were
-fans and postcards. The cost of the gift fans may have been little but
-the maker had taken his designs from models of the best tradition, and
-the fans to be found for sale are not comparable.
-
-The daughters of the house walked with us until we came to the Tokaido
-and then they pointed out our direction and stood waving farewells
-until we could see them no longer. I waited until then before making
-inquiry about the amount of the bill. This detail was a matter of
-distinct importance. When we met in Kyoto we pooled our purses and
-the common fund was entrusted to O-Owre-san’s care. Neither of us had
-made much effort to acquire theoretical information about what daily
-expenses might be. We had just so much paint with which to cover the
-surface of the definite number of days before our steamer would carry
-us away, and this meant that we would have to mix thick or thin
-accordingly. Experience only could teach us what items we could afford
-and what bargains we should have to make. I thus awaited the answer
-about the bill with flattering attention.
-
-“The bill, including extras for iced water and cigarettes and getting
-our special dinner after every one else had finished,” said the
-treasurer with appropriate solemnity, “was three _yen_.” (A _yen_ is
-about fifty cents.) “And,” he concluded, “I gave a full _yen_ for the
-tea-money tip.”
-
-We waited until we sat down for the first rest before we attempted a
-practical financial forecast. We divided the number of remaining days
-into the sum of the paper notes carried in a linen envelope. The answer
-quieted our fears and exceeded our hopes. Putting aside a reserve for
-extra occasions, beyond our inn bills we would be able to afford the
-luxury of spending along the road twenty-five cents a day for tea,
-tobacco, and chemical lemonade.
-
-[Illustration: THE FIRST REST SPOT OF THE SECOND DAY]
-
-There is something unnatural in such simplicity of finance, as anyone
-must agree who believes at all in the jealousy of the gods. I should
-have been forewarned by an old Chinese tale that I had been told only
-a fortnight before. It was while sitting in a Peking restaurant. The
-teller was a most revolutionary son of a most conservative mandarin.
-A peasant once entertained a god unawares. In the morning the god told
-the peasant that any wish which he might name would be granted, be it
-for riches, or power, or even the most beautiful maid in all the dragon
-kingdom to be his wife. But the peasant asked that he might only be
-assured that until the end of his days he need never doubt when hungry
-that he would have food, and at the fall of night that he would find a
-pillow on which to lay his head. The god looked at him sorrowfully and
-said: “Alas! You have asked the impossible. Such favours are reserved
-for the gods alone.”
-
-We got up from our figuring blithely, indulging ourselves in the idea
-that we could achieve such evenness of expenditure. Think what an
-upsetting of ponderous economics and competitive jungle law there would
-be if the world could and should abruptly take any such consideration
-of its wealth!
-
-The payer of the bill had also added that he had given a full _yen_ for
-the tea-money tip. In those large areas of Japan where the barbarous
-foreigner has not yet intruded with his indiscriminate giving, there is
-to be found the ancient system of tea-money. The tea-money custom is
-founded on the belief that the wayfarer is the personal guest of the
-host. When the guest departs he is not paying a bill, he is making a
-present, and to this sum he adds from a quarter to a third part extra.
-This extra payment is the tea-money and is to be divided by the host
-among the servants. The departing guest is then given a present. All in
-all, leave taking is a function.
-
-A guest does not ask nor demand. He offers a request and thereby
-confers a supreme favour upon any servant fortunate enough to be
-designated. All this pleasant service has not the embarrassment that
-one must confine a request to any particular maid so as to escape
-the necessity of widespread tipping at departure. It is all in the
-tea-money.
-
-
-
-
-III “I HAVE EATEN OF THE FURNACE OF HADES”
-
- Vol. I, Sect. IX. The “Ko-Ji-Ki”
-
-
-A very famous book in Japan is named the “Ko-Ji-Ki,” and the word
-means “A Record of Ancient Matters.” We thought on our second morning
-as we walked through the hills that if there should happen to be a
-modern chronologist recording a present-time Ko-Ji-Ki those hours of
-the sun’s approaching meridian would be entered without dispute as
-The-Forever-Famous-Never-To-Be-Equalled-Day-Of-Fire. In the valleys
-there was no breeze; on the summits there was no shade; and everywhere
-it seemed probable that on the next instant the road would blister into
-molten heat bubbles under our feet. However--to anticipate--if such
-a postulated chronicler had so styled that second day of our walking
-as one without chance of peer among historical days of heat, on the
-very next following day he would have had to turn back to cross out
-his lines. In the burning glare of the rice fields, anything that had
-gone before was so easily surpassed that we forever lost belief in
-maximums, unless indeed kinetic energy might continue on such a wild
-rampage of vibration that it would shake itself completely out of
-existence.
-
-Our first rest of the second day, as I said, was devoted to the
-arithmetic of finance. At that early hour the dew was not yet off the
-grass, but when we began planning for another rest the world had grown
-parched. Looking about for some possible spot we saw through the trees
-the roof of a small temple. We halted at the entrance and tried to push
-open the gate. It would not move. It was nailed to the ribs of the
-fence, but the gate was low enough to be vaulted. Our feet fell on the
-ghost of a path that had once led to the shrine. Harsh brambles and
-weeds had fought for the possession of the path until they had almost
-conquered the flaggings. If we thought at all we thought that that
-particular walk must have been abandoned for some other entrance and as
-the scratches were not very serious we pushed our way through until at
-last we stepped forth into the temple yard. Not a sign of caretaking
-devotion was anywhere in evidence nor was there a nodding priest
-sitting in the temple door.
-
-Sometimes the Chinese desert their temples but, when incense is no
-longer burned before an altar, celestial practical sense leaves little
-that is movable behind. We slowly walked up the steps to the door,
-expecting to find the temple rifled. The door was sealed by spiders’
-webs. We then walked around the balcony and peered through the wide
-cracks in the _shogi_. No fingers of man had rummaged there since the
-priests had said the last mass, but the fingers of decay had been
-busily working. The rotted fabrics hung down from the altars of the
-shrines and the ashes of the incense in the bronze bowls was hidden
-by the blacker dust which the wind had carried through the shutters.
-Surely we were the first intruders to step upon the balcony since the
-gate had been swung to and nailed.
-
-We walked around the corners until we had seen everything that there
-was to see and then we jumped down to a grassy slope on the shady side
-of the temple and stretched ourselves out in relaxation. It was very
-quiet. As I knew O-Owre-san could sleep for ten minutes and then wake
-up to the instant, I closed one eye and then the other. They both came
-open together. I had felt a soft dragging across my ankles and I raised
-my head to see a very thin, long, green and grey snake raising its
-head up between my feet to stare into my face. After a beady inspection
-it wriggled away with slow undulations into the grass. And then, from
-the spot where that snake had taken passage over my ankles, came the
-head of another. I jerked my feet up under me.
-
-The instant before there had been an oppressive quietness. The silence
-had been so supreme that we ourselves had scarcely spoken. Now there
-was a vast hurrying of little noises. Lizards ran along the rafters
-under the roof and dropped down the wall, as lizards do, to flatten
-themselves away into corners. Huge buzzing flies rose from the surface
-of the pond and bumped against us aimlessly. Mosquitoes came from the
-shadows. I had thrown my helmet on the grass. I picked it up to find
-it beset with ants. I tried to beat them out of the lining by pounding
-the hat against the side of the temple. The effort broke loose a roach
-infested board.
-
-We grinned at each other a little shamefacedly when we were safely out
-into the sunshine of the highroad. We had not stayed to argue in the
-temple yard. As we stood thus vanquished and ejected, two peasants came
-passing by. They looked at us, then glanced hurriedly at the temple
-roof above the low trees, and then eyed us again. They mumbled a word
-or two. Perhaps they were trying to tell us that an accursed goblin
-had stolen over their shrine to be the abode of insects and crawling
-things. I was not so sure that I had not seen the glowing eyes of a
-goblin staring malevolently at us from the cracks of the _shogi_ when I
-turned to look back over my shoulder as we fled.
-
-For a long way my blood welcomed the sun. The road led down into a
-broad valley to become later little more than an interminable bridge
-across the terraced paddy fields. The rice had sprouted but had not
-grown rank enough to block the mirror surface of the water from
-throwing back the heat rays. Ahead were low-lying hills with higher
-slopes beyond and from the map we thought that over that barrier would
-be the broad plain across which we would find the road leading straight
-to Nagoya.
-
-There was one ambition to luxury which we always possessed--when
-we chose a rest spot we wished one of comfort and, if it could be
-included, also that it should have a view. Curiously, owners of land
-do not seem to endeavour to provide such rest places for sensitive
-travellers, at least to be obtrusive at any exact second when desired.
-We had taken seven or eight miles across the valley at an unusually
-accelerated pace since our last attempt at a rest. Messages from the
-cords of our legs were telling us to concede some compromise to our
-particularity. However, we continued walking and searching without
-paying attention to the messages. The grass patches always disclosed
-little ant hills upon close inspection and the occasional heaps of
-stones to be found were never under the shade. That obstinacy of ours
-was of the stuff ambition should be, and finally its persistency met
-due reward. We found a wide, shady platform built against a long
-building, half house, half granary. The building flanked the road at
-a bend and as we made the turn we could see the family of the house
-lying on the floor. An old man was telling an elaborate story and his
-listeners were so intent upon the tale that none of them happened to
-look up to see us. The platform was out of their vision and we thought
-that we might rest there with the comfortable feeling that trespassing
-does not exist unless discovered.
-
-The tale that was being told was undoubtedly humorous. The daughters
-of the family were hard struggling with laughter. The men were
-emphasizing their approval by pounding on the rim of the charcoal
-brazier with their iron pipes. All were repeating a continuous _hei_,
-_hei_. But there was a baby, and the baby was not so much interested
-in the story as he was in a butterfly. He suddenly betook himself to
-his dimpled legs and circled into the road in pursuit. The whims of the
-gyrations of the mighty hunter carried him to a spot where the next
-turn left him facing two foreigners on the platform. He stood with
-feet apart and carefully lifted the corner of his diminutive shirt to
-his mouth for more careful cogitation, as any Japanese child should
-and does do when confronted by a kink in the well-ordered running of
-affairs.
-
-The mother called out an admonition but there was no response from the
-_akambo_. She left the story to find out what might be the enchantment.
-She, too, began staring without responding to admonitions. Another
-head bobbed around the corner post and then another and another until
-finally the teller of the tale himself forsook the realm of fancy
-for fact and followed after his audience. We said “_O-hayo!_”--which
-is good-morning--and they said “_O-hayo!_” After that their rigid
-attention included everything from our hats to our boots. Then in a
-body they walked back into the house and were quiet except for the
-most hushed of whispers.
-
-“Two trespassing strangers are about to receive some mark of respect,”
-said O-Owre-san.
-
-“Respect of being told to move on, most likely,” was my more worldly
-judgment.
-
-“How about betting a foreign dinner to be paid in Yokohama before the
-boat sails?” asked O-Owre-san.
-
-I took the wager, and lost.
-
-The old man who had been the teller of the story now reappeared. He
-was somewhat embarrassed but at each step of his approach he had a
-still broader smile. He was short and he was thin, with lean, knotted
-muscles. His limbs had grown clumsy from heavy toil. His face was squat
-as if in his malleable infancy some evil hand had pressed his forehead
-down against his chin. One piece of cloth saved him from nudity. He
-was a coolie of generations of coolies, but despite his embarrassment
-and despite his clumsy limbs, the very spirit of graciousness created
-a certain grace as he placed a tray before us. He backed away with low
-bow succeeding low bow. The tray held a pot of tea and two cups and
-some thin rice cakes.
-
-Good man, he fortunately never knew what an argument his gift
-precipitated! My opponent began it all by suggesting that we leave a
-twenty _sen_ silver piece on the tray. I disputed.
-
-“A cup of tea is of such slight cost to the giver,” was my eloquent and
-disputatious argument, “that by being of no price it becomes priceless
-and thus is a perfect symbol of a complete gift in an imperfect world.
-Japan has this tradition which we have lost in our own civilization.
-This simplicity allows the poorest and humblest to give a gift to the
-richest and mightiest in the purity of hospitality. If we leave money
-on the tray we are robbing the peasant of his privilege.”
-
-O-Owre-san would have none of my transcendentalism. “By leaving money,”
-said he, “a sum which means no more to us than does the cup of tea to
-the peasant, we are making an exchange of gifts. We know that he is
-very poor. Twenty _sen_ is probably more than the return for two days
-of his labour. It will buy him a pair of wooden _geta_ or a new pipe,
-or a bamboo umbrella for his wife, or such a toy for the baby as it has
-never dreamed of. After giving our gift we shall disappear down the
-road, leaving the memory of two ugly but generous foreign devils.”
-
-There was no dispute between us about wishing to leave some gift.
-The final compromise was somewhat on my side as we gave a package of
-chocolate to the child. We carried the chocolate for emergency’s sake
-and it had cost several times twenty _sen_. I do not believe that
-Japanese children like chocolate and there was more than a possibility
-that this highly condensed brand would make the baby ill. Surely the
-deposed gods of the ancient Tokaido must have made merry if the news of
-our analytics was carried to their Valhalla. Nevertheless our present,
-wrapped in a square of white paper according to the etiquette of gifts,
-was received by the family with as many protestations of appreciation
-as if we had handed them a deed to perpetual prosperity.
-
-The rays of the forenoon’s sun when we were crossing the valley of the
-rice fields had sent up heat waves from the dust of the road until
-the road itself seemed to me to have a quaking pitch and roll. We
-were now in the full glory of the noontide. I was becoming somewhat
-disturbed over certain phenomena. Trees and rocks and houses fell into
-the dance of the heat waves with an undignified stagger. Sometimes the
-bushy trees reeled away in twos and threes where but a moment before
-I had seen but one. The most disconcerting part of the development
-was my peculiar impersonal interest and study of my own distress. I
-knew that my eyes were aching and I knew that the trees were really
-standing still. I had the perfect duality of being fascinated by the
-day and thus not wishing to be any place else in the world and yet, as
-I said, of being extremely disturbed by the preliminary overtures of
-a sunstroke. We had had about two hours of climbing since we left the
-house of the rice farmer and we were on the summit of the last high
-hills. Immediately ahead the rocky path dropped sharply down into the
-plain. A rest-house marked the point where the climbing changed to the
-descent. I suggested a halt.
-
-The rest-house was more than a peasant’s hut. It was easy to believe
-that in more aristocratic days it had been an inn of some pretension.
-Now it was a spot for weary coolies to throw down their heavy packs for
-a few minutes’ rest in its shade by day or by night to curl up on the
-worn mats. We walked into the deepest recess of the entrance before we
-sat down. I could look beyond a half-folded screen into the kitchen.
-The polished copper pots and the iron and bronze bowls were not of this
-generation; probably to-morrow’s will find them on a museum shelf or
-cherished in some antique shop. However, I had no desire to discover
-curios nor did I have any preference whether the inn was old or new,
-nor whether it had been its fortune to entertain _daimyos_ or pariahs.
-We first asked for something to drink. The hostess dragged up a bucket
-from the well and brought us bottles of _ramune_ which had been cooling
-in the depths. I drank the carbonated stuff and then pushed my rucksack
-back along the mat for a pillow and closed my eyes for a half-hour’s
-blissful forgetfulness. When I awoke the throbbing under my eyelids had
-passed away and for the first time I really looked at our hostess. She
-was kneeling beside us and was slowly fanning our faces.
-
-Her teeth were painted black, as was once the fashion for married
-women. She had known both toil and poverty, but it was not a peasant’s
-face into which I looked. Her thin fingers and wasted forearms found
-repose in the lines which the ancient artists were wont to copy from
-the grace of Old Japan. Her calm face was beautiful.
-
-It was time that we should make our way down the rocky path. She
-brought us tea before we went. The bill for everything, as I remember,
-was about seven cents. We left a silver coin beside the teapot. She
-began to tell us that we had made a mistake. We told her no. Shielded
-by an unworldly, intangible delicacy, I doubt whether any rudeness
-of her guests ever became sufficiently real to her to disturb her
-passivity or her emotions, but such a guardianship presents a thin
-callous against sympathy. As we said good-bye a sudden sense of human
-mutuality smote the three of us, an experience of sheer bridging-over
-intuition which sometimes comes for a second.
-
-The absolute relaxation had so marvellously driven out the devils from
-my eyes that I did not even tell O-Owre-san of my hallucinations. To
-make up for our lingering we pushed on through the villages without
-stopping to wander into temple grounds or to explore by-ways. Between
-a misreckoning of miles on our part and some misinformation which I
-gathered from a peasant, we reached the rather large town of Siki
-an hour earlier than we had hoped. As we strolled through the main
-street, we saw several inns which might well have given us comfortable
-shelter, but I sensed that the traveller at my side was waiting for
-some bubbling of inspiration. I kept silent, an expiation for having
-carried a disproportionate number of points that day. We continued
-walking. I could see the fringe of the first rice field ahead. My faith
-was beginning to waver but before I erred by showing it O-Owre-san
-stopped abruptly and inquired the Japanese word for inn. He then asked
-for one or two other words and adjectives. Thus armed he stepped into
-a shop, the appearance of which had perhaps been the stimulus to his
-inspiration.
-
-The shop had glass windows and a glass door. It was the most
-metropolitan example of commercial progressiveness which we had seen
-since we left Kyoto. In fact, compared to the other shops of Siki it
-had as haughty an exclusiveness as any portal along New Bond Street
-seeks to maintain over possible rivals. Looking through the glass of
-the door we discovered that the floor was not covered with matting.
-Such a last touch of foreignism meant that one could walk in without
-taking off one’s dusty boots. I do not remember that we ever again
-found this detail of Western culture outside the port cities. In the
-heart of the most isolated mountain range the most lonesome charcoal
-burner knows three things about the foreigner: that he is hairy like
-the red fox; that he has a curious and barbarous custom known as
-kissing; that his boots are part of his feet.
-
-Into this shop, then, O-Owre-san walked without having to undo his
-bootlaces. There was also an aristocratic glass counter and under the
-glass, in show trays, were gold watches. Behind this counter sat a
-young man in a _kimono_ of black silk. His face was pale, ascetic, and
-contemplative. He smiled and bowed in formal hospitality. The grace
-of such a bow comes from centuries of saying _yes_ instead of _no_.
-A cultured Japanese, almost any Japanese, never flatly contradicts
-unless to deny another’s self-derogatory statement. The _iiye_ (used
-as “no”) is rarely heard and the carrying over of the omnibus _hei_,
-_hei_, or the more polite _sayo_, into the English _yes_ often brings
-consternation to the Westerner seeking accurate information.
-
-O-Owre-san said, “Please, good inn” (directly translated). As if the
-pale and ascetic seller of gold watches was accustomed daily to having
-perspiring foreigners with packs on their backs inquire for this
-information, he bowed again and smiled and said, “_Hei_, _hei!_” This
-time the _hei_, _hei_ did mean yes. He drew his _kimono_ tighter about
-his hips and adjusted his silken _obi_, and walked out of the shop
-with us. Apologizing for the necessity of going before, he piloted us
-through turns of the street to the gateway of an inn. Calling for the
-mistress he made a dignified oration of introduction, and backed away
-from our sight with innumerable appreciations for the honour of being
-asked to be of service.
-
-
-
-
-IV THE MILES OF THE RICE PLAINS
-
-
-The experiences of the second of our Japanese Nights’ Entertainments
-were as impersonal, as far as the inn’s paying special attention to
-us was concerned, as the first evening’s had not been. The police
-record was brought to us with an English translation of the questions
-and we wrote the answers without complication. The incidents which
-may develop in one inn quite naturally have a wide variation from the
-happenings which may arise in another, but the general machinery of
-hospitality differs but little. There is, in fact, far less contrast in
-the essentials of comfort between the ordinary provincial inn and the
-native hotels of the first order in Tokyo or Kyoto than there is to be
-found in a like comparison of hotels in our civilization; even it might
-be said that the simple and fundamental artistry of the shelter which
-houses the peasant in Japan has in its possession the root forms of the
-taste which charms in the homes of the cultured.
-
-Immediately after we had applied ourselves to the police record and
-had had our steaming hot bath, a _ne-san_ brought the small dinner
-tables. If ever this particular maid had enjoyed the frivolity of
-laughter for laughter’s sake, she had long since banished any such
-promotion of irresponsible dimples from the corners of her mouth,
-although it should be stated that she was far from having arrived
-at an age to provoke a solemn and serious outlook upon life. Her
-eyes wandered up to the ceiling and around the edges. She was bored.
-Furthermore she appeared distressed at having to witness the table
-errors of ignorant foreigners. We insulted the honourable rice by
-heaping sugar upon it and we drank cold water when we should have
-sipped tea. We asked for a few extras to the menu. She repeated over
-our words, caught in amazement that we could change the barking
-sounds through which we found communication with each other into the
-music of _Nihon_ speech. We asked if she were not afraid of barbarous
-foreigners, but she rather contemptuously rejoined that she could
-see no reason for being afraid in the shelter of her own inn. I then
-concocted from the dictionary an elaborate sentence which asked whether
-her expectation of how fearsome a foreigner might be was excelled
-by the examples in flesh and blood before her. The truth of her
-obvious conviction and the sense of required politeness of hospitality
-struggled each for utterance with such disconcerting effect that she
-used her turned-in toes to patter away down the flight of stairs and we
-saw our disapprover not again until she came to spread the beds.
-
-We had planned to explore the shops of Siki by lantern light after
-dinner but the two beds so aggressively allured us that we never
-stepped over them. The coverings were the usual heavy quilts buttoned
-into sheets. Such a combination coverlet is generally long enough
-for the foreign sleeper as the Japanese habit on cold nights is to
-disappear completely under the layer, but at the inn in Siki for some
-reason the length was decidedly curtailed and the mattresses were
-correspondingly short. However, at the end of such a day of fire as we
-had had I was contemptuous of such limitations. I expected to sleep on
-the quilt and not under it.
-
-For an hour, covered only by my cotton _kimono_, I knew the comfort
-of airy rest. Then I awoke to a sensation I had almost forgotten. I
-was chilled through. I entered upon a campaign of trying to get back
-to sleep by wrapping the abbreviated quilt about my shoulders. The
-far from satisfactory result was that my legs were left dangling in
-the chill drafts while the protected upper surfaces melted. Next I
-essayed a system of sliding the quilt up and down, executing retreats
-from too copious perspiration. This procedure met with some success
-but the required watchfulness was hardly a soporific. I called myself
-a tenderfoot. Some slight appreciation of how ridiculous it all was
-destroyed any high tragedy of self-sympathy but it could not keep me
-from loathing O-Owre-san for breathing so tranquilly. Finally I got
-up, determined to force my ingenuity to find some balance between such
-excesses. Then I saw that O-Owre-san’s eyes were wide open.
-
-I know not what the temperature of that room was in actual Fahrenheit
-degrees, but too many truth-tellers have secretly confided to me
-that they have found just such uncanny nights in Japan to disbelieve
-that the midnight “Hour of the Rat” has not at times a malignancy
-independent of mere thermometer readings. That night was neither cold
-nor hot; it was both and it was both at the same instant. My skin had
-been flushed to a mild fever from its long bath in the sun’s rays, but
-the flesh beneath now grew iced when not swaddled beneath the furnace
-of the quilt. My inspiration, after sitting for a time and studying
-all the possible materials in the room, was to build a tent. I was so
-successful that I hurled a defiance at the “Hour of the Rat,” and for
-another half-hour--perhaps it was--I again knew the positiveness of
-sleep.
-
-The Japanese believe that they are a silent people. That faith is one
-of the supreme misbeliefs of the world. Before dinner, when we were
-sitting on our narrow balcony, we had said good-evening to a circle
-of young men who were lounging on cushions in the large room next to
-ours. Later they dressed and went out and we forgot them. I awoke to
-hear through the thin wall that they had returned. They were holding
-a Japanese conversation. Such a conversation can only be described
-by telling what it is not. In rhythm it is neither the cæsura of
-the French peasant woman retailing gossip, nor is it the eluding
-tempo-harmonic tune of the Red Indian drum beat; it is not the Chinese
-intoning nor is it a staccato. At first the foreign ear does not
-distinguish the beat of the cadences but once captured the appreciation
-of the subtle metrical wave is never again lost. We had the opportunity
-of full orientation that night. The paper wall was but a second tympan
-to our ears.
-
-Their conversation as an entity was a musical composition effected
-without counterpoint and played by the instruments in succession.
-First there was a swing of phrases from one speaker, and then after a
-decorous and proper dramatic pause there was an answering swing from
-another. No speaker was interrupted. The right of reply was passed
-about as if it were as physically tangible as a loving cup.
-
-There was one distinct suggestion from the monotony of it all above
-every other impression, a something absolutely alien to any Occidental
-conversation. While they talked and drank tea and drank tea and talked,
-I twisted about under my tent puzzled to solve what that impression
-was. Suddenly I found words to express to myself the sought-for
-revelation. The effect of a long Japanese conversation is that of
-_voiceful contemplation_. Separated from them physically only by a
-paper wall, we belonged to another world, a world which has ordered
-its existence without finding contemplation and its manifestations a
-necessary adjunct.
-
-The mosquitoes, which all night had kept up a noisy circling over our
-net, flew off at daybreak. Some speaker spoke the concluding word in
-the next room and for a few minutes the universe was quiet. Then came
-the high shrieking of the ungreased axles of coolie carts being dragged
-to the rice fields. I took my quilt and cushions out onto the balcony.
-The inn began waking up. Down in the garden two kitchen maids appeared.
-They were arousing their energy by dipping their faces into brass
-basins of cold well water. I left my balcony and wandered below to find
-a basin for myself.
-
-The inn had filled during the night with guests of all descriptions
-and ranks. They were coming forth from under their quilts. A _ne-san_
-stepped to the wellside and filled a basin for me and then ran off to
-find a gift toothbrush. Another maid, lazily binding on her _obi_,
-stayed her dressing for a moment to pour cool water from a wooden
-dipper over my head and neck. Getting up o’ the morning is a social
-cooperation in a Japanese inn.
-
-Breakfast came. After breakfast I sat down on the balcony cushions to
-smoke and to breathe the delicious morning air and I promptly went
-to sleep. I wished to go on sleeping forever and to let the world
-work, or walk, or talk, or do anything it might choose to do, but
-O-Owre-san appeared, saying that he had paid the bill. He had stuffed
-our presents into his rucksacks and had had the dramatic farewells to
-himself. After one has accepted a going-away present, one goes. Tense
-good-byes do not brook recapture. The super-wanderer is thus forbidden
-ever to retrace his steps. For him alone, his life being always the
-anticipation of the next note of the magic flute, does the present
-become real by eternally existing as a becoming. He will not pay the
-price for contentment, which is to re-live and rethink the past.
-
-When we at length reached Nagoya, where the government bureau records
-temperatures scientifically, we learned that the week had been really
-one of extraordinary heat. Among other symptoms of the week, deranged
-livers and prickly irritation had inspired angry letters in the
-readers’ columns of the foreign newspapers, belabouring everything
-native, particularly the casual discarding of clothing. A newspaper
-editor told us that such attacks of hyper-sensitiveness over nudity
-come not to foreigners newly arrived nor to those residents who sanely
-take long vacations back to their homelands (where they may have
-the rejuvenation of themselves being homogeneous with the masses),
-but to the conscientious unfortunates who remain too long at their
-posts. Round and about them for the twenty-four hours of the day
-and the seven days of the week surges the sea of native life. The
-feeling of lonesome strangeness, which can never be entirely lost by
-the foreigner, feeds on its own black moods and this poisonous diet
-suddenly nourishes a dull hatred. Then come the bitter letters to
-the press demanding that the Japanese reform themselves into Utopian
-perfection and threatening that unless they so do the foreign guests of
-the empire will assemble in convention and design an all-enveloping bag
-(with a drawing string to be pulled tight about the neck of the wearer)
-as a national costume for their hosts for evermore.
-
-If hot days in the port cities, where there is some mild regulation of
-costume, can bring such disturbances of mind to anxiously missioning
-folk, we thought that it was as well that they were not walking with
-us that day through the villages of the broad plain which slopes from
-Mount Keisoku to Ise Bay. It was before we were out of the hills that
-our road carried us through a grove. A stone-flagged walk led into
-the shadows of the trees and we could see at its end the beginning of
-a long flight of stone steps which bespoke some hidden and ancient
-shrine beyond. A small stream flowed alongside the path and cut our
-road under an arched stone bridge. We heard shouts of laughter from the
-pines and the next moment an avalanche of children came tumbling along
-as fast as their legs could take them. Some were cupids with bright
-coloured _kimonos_ streaming from their shoulders; some did not have
-even that restraint. A tall, slender maiden was in pursuit, and the
-pursuit was part of some game. They dashed by us through the light and
-shadow and were lost again in the pines.
-
-It was the reincarnation of a Greek relief. In that flash of the
-moment in which we saw them, the glistening nude body of the pursuing
-girl running through the green and brown and grey of the grove was
-passionately and superbly the plea of nature against man’s crucifying
-purity upon the cross of sophistication.
-
-I regretted to O-Owre-san the having within me so much of that very
-sophistication that I had begun immediately to moralize upon such a
-sheerly beautiful vision. He, who had been saying nothing, replied
-with an end-all to the subject. “Your mild regret,” said he, “that
-dispassionate analysis has displaced passionate creativeness is the
-penalty you pay for the pleasure of studying your own sadness.”
-
-The Greeks, I believe, had for one of their two axioms by which they
-covered the conduct of wise living, “No excess in anything.” I had very
-fearlessly compared the young girl to a Greek relief, but when we were
-out of the hills and were in the meaner villages of the plains I began
-to feel the truth of that Greek dictum that people can mix too much
-practice into a theory, especially when it comes to an overwhelming
-surrender to naturalness. I lost my enthusiasm for my so shortly before
-uttered panegyric of a world naturally and unconsciously nude. I began
-to understand a new meaning in the artist’s cry of “Give me Naples and
-her rags!” Especially the rags! Upon some occasions art and sensibility
-need the rags far more than does morality.
-
-All this argument was with myself as O-Owre-san’s dismissal of my
-tentative first offering on the subject had not been encouraging
-to further communication. I then proceeded to a further step in my
-private debate and queried whether in the selection of clothes, to be
-truly practical, man would not be served better by trusting to comfort
-rather than to either art or morality; and then I came upon the thought
-that comfort has no strength to resist convention when they collide,
-and as convention, with the guile of the serpent, always makes much
-pretension of riding in the same omnibus with virtue, perhaps after all
-the true wisdom of life is to stay close to convention and thus one
-will be pretty sure to reach Journey’s End in good shape. I mentioned
-my change of heart to O-Owre-san as we were sitting down in the shade
-of a _ramune_ shop, where unabashed nudity had gathered in a circle
-to regard the foreigners. He did not seem to be moved to interest by
-my reformation. I heaped a malediction on his head. Surely if I were
-willing to rearrange my opinions seven times daily at some one stage he
-might agree.
-
-It was during this rest that I came upon the happiest adventure that
-the mouth of man may hope to experience in this imperfect world. I
-had been thirsty from that first day in the East when I had begun
-breathing in Manchurian dust. In Peking I had tried to cool my throat
-by every variety of drink offered through the mingling of Occidental
-and Oriental civilizations. In Korea, a certain twenty-four hours
-of wandering alone and lost among the baked and arid mountains had
-further augmented the parching of my tongue--an increasement which I
-had believed to be impossible. Along the Tokaido we were free to drink
-as much chemical lemonade as our purse could buy and, despite the
-warnings of all red-bound guide books, we drank the water. But never,
-since the beginning of my thirst, had I found a liquid worth one word’s
-praise as a quencher, neither water nor wine, neither _ramune_ nor tea.
-I have irreverently forgotten the name of the village of the discovery.
-
-As we sat resting in the _ramune_ shop I looked about and saw some
-champagne cider bottles of unusually large size. The quantity rather
-than the flavour of that particular chemical combination was the
-appeal. I asked for two of the bottles, making the request to a maid
-who was hoisting a flag over the door. The flag had a single Chinese
-character printed on it. It was a sign which I later learned to
-distinguish from incredible distances. After flinging out the flag, she
-took down two bottles from the shelf but instead of opening them she
-smiled with a beaming which came from the secure faith that she was
-bearing good news.
-
-“_Kori wa ikago desu?_” she asked.
-
-The concluding three words are among the first to be learned from the
-phrase book and mean “Do you wish?” The word _kori_ I remembered from
-its having been one of the extras of our first night. It means “ice.”
-We said yes, that we would like ice, but in our ignorance we spoke
-with no marked ebulliency. She smiled again and sat down, folding her
-arms in her _kimono_ sleeves, an equivalent of that expression of
-contented virtue shown when our own housewives peacefully wrap their
-hands in their aprons.
-
-[Illustration: THE KORI (ICE) FLAG OF THE “ADVENTURER”]
-
-That the flag above the door had some definite meaning for the
-villagers began to be most evident. The shop was filling. Mob
-expectancy is contagious and we found ourselves waiting tensely with no
-clear idea what we were waiting for. The shop was now quite full and
-all eyes were turned to the street. We heard shouts from the outside
-that were almost _banzais_, and a coolie came running in. His face
-was aflame from the happy look of completed service. He was carrying
-a dripping block of ice in many wrappings of brown hemp cloth. I do
-not know how far he had come with the ice. Perhaps he had been to some
-station of the distant railroad. The maid took her hands from her
-_kimono_ sleeves and seized the ice. She pulled off the wrappings.
-Next she took a saw and cut off an end from the cake. Another maid
-re-wrapped the precious remainder in the hemp cloth and buried it in a
-pit dug in the floor. A third maid had been standing by with a board
-which had a sharp knife edge set into it. The first maid scraped the
-end of the ice cake over this inverted plane and shavings of sparkling
-snow fell into her hand. She packed this whiteness into two large,
-flat, glass dishes. She poured into the snow the effervescing champagne
-cider and brought us the “adventure.”
-
-An adventure is an adventure in proportion to the emotion aroused.
-For days without end thirst had been sitting astride my tongue. Just
-as the Old Man of the Sea fastened his thighs around Sindbad’s neck
-and then kicked the poor man’s ribs mercilessly with his heels, so
-had my parasite tickled my throat with his toes. To have unthroned
-my tormentor at the beginning of his companionship would have been
-a sensuous satisfaction. To do so after having known the abysses of
-abject slavery was an ecstasy exceeding the dreams of lovers.
-
-I flushed the ice particles around in my mouth until my eyes rolled in
-my head. O-Owre-san was alarmed into protests. I had no time to listen.
-I ordered another bowl of snow and another bottle. It was costing _sen_
-after _sen_ but I knew in my soul that if I had to beg my rice to get
-to Yokohama and had to sleep under temple steps, even if the price
-for the snow thus beggared me, the uttermost payment could be in no
-proportion to the value.
-
-The fertile plain through which the Tokaido now wound was crowded with
-the sight of man. A few houses always clustered wherever a rise in the
-ground could lift them above the water of the rice fields. The paddy
-toilers, digging with their hands around the rice roots, worked in long
-lines, men and women, with their bodies bent flat down from their hips
-against their legs. If they noticed our passing and looked up, we would
-say, “It is hot!” and they would say, “It is hot!” Finally an avenue
-of scrub pines brought shade and I declared for a siesta. Our first
-attempt gave way before a horde of ants. We tried relaying the top
-stones of a heap of boulders and then climbed up on that edifice, going
-to sleep quite contentedly. When I yawned into wakefulness I looked
-lazily around the landscape wondering where I was. I felt queerly and
-strangely alone. It was not that the sound of breathing from under
-O-Owre-san’s helmet had ceased. He had not become a deserter, but while
-we were sleeping every peasant in the fields had disappeared. There can
-be, then, a degree of heat under which a coolie will not labour, and we
-had found the day of that heat.
-
-In the next village we discovered our labourers again. They were lying
-on the floors of their open-sided houses, the elders motionless except
-for the deep rising and falling of their breasts and an arm lifted now
-and then in desultory fanning. The children, however, were restless
-enough to be startled into gazing at the two strangers who were walking
-the gauntlet of the narrow street.
-
-We had seen an ice flag over a shop at the very entrance to the town
-but O-Owre-san suggested that there would surely be another shop
-farther along. I accepted his reasoning but there was not another
-_kori_ flag to be found anywhere. We had reached the last house. The
-sign over the shop we had passed was at least a mile back along that
-burning white cañon. O-Owre-san stopped in at the last house to beg
-some well water. I looked at the water and thought of the ice.
-
-“If there ever was any ice back there,” said he, “it’s melted by this
-time.”
-
-I was venomous. I left my luggage and started back.
-
-The children, maybe, had been telling their parents of the sight that
-they had missed, a sight which might never come again. The grinding of
-my heels this time brought a somewhat larger audience to their elbows.
-They appeared appreciative of my second appearance. I staggered on and
-on, mopping my head with a blue and white gift towel. I felt in my
-limbs the exact strength that would carry me to that _kori_ shop, but
-to have had to go a foot beyond might well have meant an experience in
-hallucinations which I had no wish to know.
-
-An old man, who grinned toothlessly, dug down into a sawdust pit and
-exhumed a fair-sized cake of ice. He moved about his work grotesquely
-as if he were an animated conceit of carved ivory quickened into life
-for a moment by the hyper-heat. He at last gave me a bowl of snow
-with sprinkled sugared water over it. I munched the ice for a full
-half-hour. As I slowly grew cooler the crowd about me slowly grew
-larger. They stood silently staring, always staring.
-
-The change for the silver piece which I put down was a heap of coppers.
-It must have weighed half a pound or more. I might not have been so
-generous if the wealth had been more portable. As it was, I invited
-in two or three boys from the circle of the crowd. A carpenter’s
-apprentice had been sitting on the bench beside me. He had paid for
-one bowl of snow which he had held close to his lips, tossing the sugar
-powdered ambrosia into his mouth with dexterous flips of a tiny tin
-spoon. He looked at the ice supply about to disappear into the pit and
-I invited him to a further participation. He glanced at me intensely
-for a second as if he wished to solve by that one glance every reason
-for my existence. Then he turned his attention to his second bowl,
-which I paid for. His hair was clipped close to his skull. The fresh,
-youthfully transparent skin of his face was stretched like a sheet of
-rubber, the tension holding down his nose and allowing his eyes to
-stare with an openness impossible to optics otherwise socketed.
-
-Just how the round, cannonball head of the Japanese boy evolutes into
-the featured physiognomy of the Japanese man is puzzling. It must be
-a sort of bursting. The schoolboy’s eyes betray the passing moods of
-his emotions, but there is always something beyond the mood of the
-moment in his gazing, an intangible yearning for infinity. It must at
-times be terrifying for an Anglo-Saxon teacher or missionary to face
-those eyes. Such a victim may find respite by swearing in the court of
-all that is practical and material that the mere physical strangeness
-of the deep staring has bewitched him. He is wise if, by clinging to
-analysis of the objective world, he can restrain all passion to disturb
-such mysteries--otherwise he may be led into a voyage such as that of
-Urashima to the enchanted island. And then, if ever he seeks to return
-to his Western identity, he may find that the world which he once knew
-has died and that he stands neither wedded to the daughter of the
-Dragon King nor possessing the substance of his former self.
-
-I was thus dreamily communing, studying the face of the carpenter’s
-apprentice. It was he who recalled me from such heat born, mental
-wanderings by finishing his ice, picking up his _kimono_ and throwing
-it over his shoulder, and walking off with the air of, “Well, you ice
-dreamer, I have been with you for a moment, but now I have work to do
-in the world.” I followed after him and walked out again into the fiery
-street.
-
-I can swear that the ice had cooled me back to the normal. I felt
-myself a part of the obvious world. I had banished the disease known as
-the imagination. I was doing the most practical thing for the moment,
-going back to my rucksack. But I can also swear that the real world was
-most unfairly unreal. Great-grandfathers and great-great-grandmothers,
-who had passed so far along on their journey through life that probably
-they had given up hope of ever again seeing anything new and worldly
-strange to interest them, had been carried to the fronts of the houses
-to behold the outlander. It was as if I had not come to see Japan
-but Japan had been waiting long and patiently to see me, a parading
-manikin in a linen suit and yellow boots and a pith helmet. The naked,
-old, old women, their ribs slowly moving under their dried skin as if
-breathing and staring were their last hold upon the temporal world,
-knelt, supported by their children, on the mats. Walking slowly by I
-felt that I was the sacrificial pageant of the ceremony for their final
-surrender. There was not a sound from their lips. I began to have a
-sense of remarkable completeness, that I was a single figure with no
-possible replica. It was not until I saw O-Owre-san’s blue shirt that
-I was able to snap the thread which was leading me not out of but into
-the tortuous labyrinth of such speculative folly.
-
-“I was just going back to look for you,” said he, “I thought you must
-have had a sunstroke.”
-
-It seemed just then an unnecessary and a too complicated endeavour to
-explain the minute difference between standing with one’s toes on the
-edge of the calamity which he had feared for me and the actuality of
-toppling over the precipice. Thus I merely replied that I was feeling
-all right.
-
-Some tribes of men have in their dogma that the beard must never be
-trimmed. I am able to imagine that O-Owre-san would carry a sympathetic
-understanding always with him, no matter among what races he might
-go adventuring, except into the society of the disbelievers in beard
-trimming. He demands an extreme exactitude in the trimming of his
-own beard which proclaims the existence of a certain precise flair
-of idealism. This flair may be seen manifested in him also in such
-croppings out as his appreciation for flawless cloisonné. The fact
-that he had discovered a barber shop and had not made immediate use
-of his find was overwhelming proof that he had been really solicitous
-about me. Now that I had returned he made no further delay but sat down
-in the chair. I stretched out on the matting to wait. The barber’s
-daughter brought cushions and placed them under my head and then knelt
-at my shoulder to send scurrying breaths of cool air from her fan
-across my face.
-
-When I awoke O-Owre-san was paying the barber’s charge. It amounted,
-if I remember, to three _sen_, or perhaps three and one-half _sen_.
-Whatever it was the now properly trimmed _kebukei_ foreigner left four
-_sen_ and one-half from his honourable purse, and there was another
-copper or two as thanks to O-Momo-san for the gentle medicine of her
-fan.
-
-The barber’s clippers, which he had used with such art, had perhaps
-cost four _yen_. If so, they would--as may be determined by simple
-division--require at least one hundred similar payments before the
-return to the barber of their initial cost; and there were the razors,
-and the chair, and the shining cups and bottles, all representing
-capital outlay; and there must have been rent to pay. There are three
-demi-gods of the East and only under their reign lies the answer. Great
-is rice, that it satisfies the hunger. Great is cotton, that it clothes
-the limbs. Great is art, that it can build the home from the simple
-bamboo. The barber jingled the four _sen_ and a half between his palms,
-and the jingle was the music that sings of the buying of the rice, the
-cotton, and the bamboo. There is mystery and magic in economics; and
-there is, in the submission of man to recognize money as a medium of
-exchange and in his cooperating to maintain that recognition by law
-and force, the greatest story in the world.
-
-The barber ceased jingling the coins and dropped them into a drawer.
-His daughter remained kneeling, her wistful, gentle head bowed low in
-good-byes. She had been silent but I imagined that I knew two of her
-thoughts--no, I should say, two of her moods. One was quite obvious.
-She had been amused (it was an adventure in its way) to fan to sleep a
-foreign guest. But the other mood, born of dreaming, was asking where
-the road led, which those strange visitors were striking out upon,
-stretching away into the distance as does the march into the beyond of
-life.
-
-We were talking idly one day with a maid in a certain inn. Her name was
-O-Kimi-san, and she was pretty in the flush of youth, and “very pretty
-anyhow,” as O-Owre-san critically observed. Her feet were quick as
-sunshine when she ran for our dinner trays, or to bring tea instantly
-to our room upon our coming in from the street, or to fetch glowing
-charcoal to our elbow if we should wish to smoke, and her fingers were
-cunning in all the other little luxuries of service. She was saving
-money, she said, for the wedding which might be, but as she had
-neither father nor mother to arrange a marriage she added quite simply
-that she was only hoping to be married. She desired to wed a merchant,
-with a shop of his own, having a little room upstairs over the bazaar
-so that the good wife might be able to run down and attend to customers
-between domestic duties. She declared an antique shop would be the
-best, for one can buy nowadays from the wholesalers such wonderful,
-not-to-be-detected imitations. But her eyes grew sad. It was not within
-reason to hope that a merchant with such a shop would ever love a
-dowerless girl, and it was taking so long to save the capital herself.
-Why, one of the maids of the inn had been there sixteen years! If she
-had only three hundred _yen_ the heaven upon earth might be hers.
-
-I know that O-Momo-san, the daughter of the barber, when she sat
-wondering what lay beyond the farthest distance she could see along the
-road, was not imagining a little shop, where between domestic cares she
-could take time to wait upon customers.
-
-It is for the imagination of dreaming O-Momo-san that the priests
-light the incense at the sacred altar; it is for practical O-Kimi-san
-that they read the traditional advice from the theology of moral
-maxims. The Marys and the Marthas! The cherry blossoms are a bloom of
-mysterious beauty for the daughter of the barber; they are a symbol of
-gay festival time for the practical maid of the inn. Will it be the
-end for the daughter of the barber of Kasada to marry her father’s
-apprentice and to live on in the little shop, dreaming until dreams
-slumber and are forgotten, knowing only this of the old Tokaido that it
-leads away in a straight line until it is lost in the brilliant blur of
-the sun on the waters of the rice fields? Or will her imagining heart
-know adventure in the world beyond the vision of her doorstep? Perhaps
-the _sen_ will come so slowly to the barber’s drawer that the wistful
-daughter will be sold to a _geisha_ master, and in filial piety,
-fulfilling the contract, she may go even to Tokyo where she will be
-taught to sing and to dance and to laugh gaily. She may find that life
-is kind. Again, she may be sold to another life--under the juggernaut
-of poverty--and in the Nightless City knowledge will come to dwell in
-the empty place where wistfulness was.
-
-We walked away from Kasada along the unchanging road; one blade of
-rice was like another, one step was like another, finally one thought
-became like another. Nagoya was many miles ahead. O-Owre-san, the
-tramper, is of the faith which holds that to give in to a stretch
-of road just because it is dull is to surrender for no reason at
-all. That is good doctrine. I have something of it, but my hold upon
-the faith is admixed with a Catholicism which does not preclude the
-restful and inward harmony of maintaining speaking acquaintance with
-several conflicting beliefs. On the other hand O-Owre-san will, simply
-and unostentatiously, subordinate his preferences, but the surrender
-is so generous that that virtue is usually a protection in itself
-against applied selfishness. To escape any disagreeable feeling of
-shame I thought it might be that O-Owre-san could be induced to
-make the suggestion himself that we take some more rapid means of
-transportation. We were in the land of _jiu-jitsu_. The fundamental
-idea of this system is that you politely assist your opponent to throw
-himself. I began by alluding to the thrills and possibilities of the
-antique shops of Nagoya. If we should continue walking we could not
-reach there until late at night, and if we should find Kenjiro Hori
-waiting for us and prepared to be off early the next morning, when
-would there be time for exploring? I then ventured casually that the
-railroad would take us to Nagoya in a couple of hours. Imagination
-began to work as my ally. O-Owre-san at last queried directly whether
-I would be willing to give up walking in the country for exploration
-in the city. I yielded. Thus, when the arrogant Tokaido of steel
-crossed our road, as the map had told me it soon would, two foreigners
-with rucksacks found places amid teapots and babies, bundles and ever
-fanning elders, and soon they saw the tall smokestacks of modern Nagoya.
-
-Our kit of clean linen and clean suits had been forwarded from Kyoto in
-care of the foreign hotel. Perhaps we each had had the idea when the
-bag was packed that we would be exceedingly content to catch up with it
-again, not alone for the contents but in anticipation that the finding
-would mean that we would be again surrounded by the comfort of Western
-standards exotically flourishing. Alas for the stability of our tenet!
-We were aware that our capitulation to the simplicity of the native
-inns sprang partly from the glamour of the new, but the conquest had
-come from realization and not mere anticipation. Dilettantes we were,
-truly, and as such we acknowledged ourselves, but we should be credited
-that we escaped the eczema of reformers. We had no obsession to
-hasten back to our own land to argue the multitudes out of the custom
-of wearing shoes in the house or sitting on chairs instead of floors.
-Nevertheless when we walked into the door of the hotel and up the
-stairs every tread of our heavy, dusty boots struck at our sensibility
-of a better fitness and order.
-
-We walked along the upstairs hall and passed a room with wide open
-double doors. There was Kenjiro Hori waiting for us; that is, a
-semblance of O-Hori-san was there, his material body. When a Japanese
-sleeps his absorption by his dream hours is so complete that one is
-tempted to believe that his so-called waking hours (no matter how
-manifested in energy) may be only a hazy interim between periods of
-a much more important psychic existence. We walked into the room and
-sat down and talked things over and waited for the opening of Hori’s
-eyelids, but they moved not. O-Owre-san at last departed to seek
-treasure trove in the antique shops and I decided for the laziness of a
-bath.
-
-I asked for a hot bath. The bath boy’s uniform was starched and new,
-and he was starched and new in his position as drawer of water. He
-was very proud of such responsibility and was very earnest and very
-smiling. In some other occupation he had picked up a little English.
-He promised to hurry. Minutes went by. Above the sound of the running
-of the water I could hear a mysterious pounding and scraping. This
-combination of noises continued with no regard for passing time. Now
-and again I pounded on the door in Occidental impatience. “Very quick!
-Very quick!” would come his answer. When the bolt did snap back I could
-see from his perspiring face that he must have been hurrying after
-some fashion of his own. He bowed and pointed to the tub. I put in one
-foot--and out it came. The water might have come from a glacier.
-
-“I asked for a hot bath--_o yu, furo_,” I shouted.
-
-There was no retreat of the smiles. They even grew.
-
-“Japanese man, he take hot bath. Foreign man, he take cold bath.”
-
-I now understood the scraping and pounding. The hot days had attacked
-the water tanks of the hotel until the faucets marked “Cold” were
-running warm. The bath boy had been laboriously stirring around a cake
-of ice in the tub. Blandly came the repetition, “Foreign man, he take
-cold bath.”
-
-For the sake of sweet courtesy and kindly appreciation I should have
-sat down in that water, but I did not. I pulled out the stopper and
-drew a hot tub. When the boy realized this sacrilege against the custom
-of the foreign man, he veritably trembled from the violence of the
-restraint which he had to put upon himself, but his idea of courtesy
-was so far superior to mine that he retreated. I bolted the door
-against him.
-
-O-Owre-san returned from his field with enraptured accounts. There
-is some sort of affinity between him and a bit of treasure. He is
-the hazel wand and the antique is the hidden water, but as a human
-divining rod he does not merely bend to magnetism, he leaps. My first
-initiation to that knowledge had been so sufficiently striking that no
-new evidences ever surprised me. That initiation had come when we were
-riding one Sunday morning on the top of a tram in the cathedral city of
-Bath. We were in the midst of a discussion. Half way through a sentence
-he suddenly lifted himself over the rail and disappeared down the side
-of the car. When I could finally alight more conventionally I ran back
-to find him with his nose against a dull and uninviting window. From
-the top of the tram he had seen within the shadows a chair. There was
-no arousing the antique shop on Sunday and thus he left a note of
-inquiry under the door and eventually that particular treasure, wrapped
-in burlap, made its long journey to America.
-
-He began discussing the treasures of Nagoya when in walked Hori.
-
-“I don’t see how you got by my door,” said he.
-
-“Weren’t you asleep?” I asked.
-
-“Oh, just dozing,” he explained.
-
-
-
-
-V THE ANCIENT NAKESCENDO
-
-
-We had an hour to kill before dinner and we were irritably moody
-against the foreign windows which gave us no breeze. “It’s housely
-hot,” said O-Owre-san, and he sighed pathetically for the cool mats
-of an inn floor where there would be a pot of freshly brewed tea at
-his elbow and a green garden to look out upon. I was studying a map of
-Japan, tracing out its rivers and mountains.
-
-I have an inordinate passion for maps. Surely Stevenson had some such
-passion. I venture that he first thought of the pirate’s chart of
-“Treasure Island” and after that first imagination the story simply
-wrote itself. Particularly does passion find satisfaction in one of
-the old Elizabethan maps, printed in full, rich colours, the margins
-portraying the waves of the sea with dolphins diving, and with barques
-straining under bellied sails. Some are headed for the Spanish Main,
-and others are striking out for the regions marked “Unknown.” Those old
-Elizabethan maps could have been drawn only in the days of hurly-burly
-England when the deep-chested seamen under Raleigh and Drake sang
-savage sea songs in the taverns and the tingling life in a man’s veins
-was worth its weight in adventure. No wonder that to-day, with our
-pale, lithographed maps telling us the exact number of nautical miles
-to the farthest coral island we have become analytic and scientific.
-As Okakura said, “We are modern, which means that we are old.”
-Nevertheless, a pale, errorless, unemotional map is better than no map
-at all.
-
-The particular map of Japan which I was studying had had a few
-mysteries added in the printing which were not to be blamed upon the
-geographer. The different colours had been laid on by the printer with
-marked independence of registration. It was difficult to trace even
-the old Tokaido, but imagination from practical experience told me
-that when it followed the coast it led through miles and miles of rice
-fields. Farther up on the map, in the mountain ranges above Nagoya, I
-saw a blurred word and turning the sheet on end I read “Nakescendo.”
-
-The word brought a remembrance. I began trying to piece together what
-that memory was. At last I assembled a forgotten picture of a Japanese
-whom I had once met on a train. In the beginning I had thought him
-a modern of the moderns until he told me of his sacred pilgrimages.
-It was my surprise, I suppose, in his tale of his tramping, staff in
-hand, with the peasants that had made me so distinctly remember his
-earnestness as he mouthed the full word “Nakescendo.” I rolled over on
-the bed with my finger on the map and asked Hori if he had ever heard
-of the Nakescendo.
-
-Hori looked up in surprise as if I had rudely mentioned some holy name.
-“All day,” said he, “I have been thinking of the Nakescendo.” Then he
-told us how the Nakescendo road enters the mountains through the valley
-of the beautiful Kiso river and, following the ranges first to the
-north and then to the east, takes its way to Tokyo. In the era before
-railroads it was a great arterial thoroughfare and in those feudal days
-the _daimyos_ of the north and their retainers journeyed the Nakescendo
-route with as much pomp as did their southern rivals along the Tokaido.
-Nevertheless the Nakescendo now exists in history as the less famous
-thoroughfare of the two. Hori suggested that the dimming of its fame
-may have come because its ancient followers had cherished its beauty
-with such intensity that they did not allow their artists to paint it
-nor their poets to sing of it to the world, in the belief, perhaps,
-that all objective praise could be but supererogation.
-
-I had most of this imagining from Hori’s understatements rather than
-from anything definite that he said. He is of the _samurai_ and his
-ancestors learned the art of conversation in a court circle devoted to
-the graces. The incompleted phrase of the East so subtly makes one an
-accessory in the creation of the idea involved that we, of the West,
-who live in a world of overstatement, find ourselves disarmed to deny.
-One cannot discount words that have never been uttered.
-
-I added to Hori’s words some definite phrases from my own imagination.
-These were to influence O-Owre-san if possible. I knew that it had been
-his long held dream to walk the Tokaido from end to end, but I had not
-realized until I saw his dismay at my suggestion of a change how ardent
-his dream had been. I had recklessly prophesied the mountains of the
-Nakescendo to be the abode of spring among other praises. It could not
-be denied that whatever the Tokaido was or was not, the rice fields
-that had to be crossed would not be springlike.
-
-We slept over such argument as we had had. The next day burst in the
-glory of a burning sun, which was rather an argument on the side of
-the mountain faction. The breakfast butter melted before our eyes.
-O-Owre-san finished his marmalade and pushed back his chair, and
-then casually capitulated. “Well,” he said, “if we are going to the
-mountains, what are we waiting for?” What indeed? I ran upstairs to our
-room and pulled off my hotel-civilization clothes and stuffed them into
-the bag and labelled it for Yokohama. There was to be no more formal
-emerging into the _seiyo-jin’s_ world for us until we should reach that
-port of compulsion. O-Owre-san was less exuberant in his packing but he
-cheerfully whistled some air--which was indeed forgiving--and as usual
-was ready before I was.
-
-Hori’s travelling kit had evidently bothered him not at all. A
-half-dozen collars, two or three books, one or two supplementary
-garments, and a straw hat were tied up in a blue and orange
-handkerchief and this _furoshiki_ was tied to the handlebars of a
-bicycle. Until we met the bicycle we had talked of the problems and
-plans of the three of us, but from the instant of production there
-was no gainsaying that there were four of us. Further, the really
-colourful and unique personality among the four partners of the
-vagabondage was that diabolical, mechanical contraption.
-
-In making that machine, the manufacturer, without possibility
-of dispute, had achieved the supremacy of turning out the most
-consistently jerry-built affair since the beginning of time. He
-merits first immortality both in any memorialization by the shades of
-jerry-builders who have gone before and in the future from the tribe
-as it expands and multiplies upon the earth. The loose, and often
-parting, chain hung from sprocket wheels that marvellously revolved at
-nearly right angles to each other. When Hori mounted into the saddle
-the wheels fearsomely bent under his weight until their circumferences
-advanced along the road in ellipses strange and unknown to the plotting
-of calculus. The rims scraped the mudguards in continuous rattle as
-if there were not enough other grinding sounds of despair coming
-from every gear and bearing. In some way those abnormalities worked
-together, acting in compensation. Any one of the single errors without
-such correspondingly outrageous offset would have been prohibitive to
-locomotion.
-
-The indomitable spirit of the machine to keep going should perhaps be
-praised, but its general character was steeped in malevolency against
-all human kind. It hated Hori no less violently than it did us or
-strangers. It hated and was hated and continued to leave a trail of
-hatred in its path until a certain memorable day when we came to a
-mountain climb. While we were discussing what best could be done for
-its transport the proud spirit overheard that it would have to submit
-to being tied upon a coolie’s back. It rebelled into heroic suicide at
-that prospect. It committed _hara-kiri_. The entire mechanism collapsed
-suddenly into an almost unrecognizable wreck.
-
-“When the flower fades,” says Okakura Kakuzo, “the master tenderly
-consigns it to the river or carefully buries it in the ground.
-Monuments are even sometimes erected to their memory.” Hori gave a
-piece of money to the coolie for a reverent burial of the demon wheel.
-
-Our breakfast had really been luncheon and after our energy of
-packing and getting started we so indulged our time in the shops on
-the way out of the city that we finally decided that if we were to
-get into the mountains before night we should have to take the train
-over the paddy fields. The bicycle, the rucksacks, and the blue and
-orange handkerchief, together with the owners, were crowded into an
-accommodation train. The small engine puffed with the temperament of
-a nervous pomeranian, throwing a volcanic spume into the air which
-condensed into a fine diamond ash to come back to earth and to stream
-into the windows and then to drift, eddy, and scurry about the seats
-and floor.
-
-An accommodation train has the verve of life which the conventions of a
-through express stifle; but whether it be a New England local with bird
-cages, or the Italian _misti_ with priests and snuff boxes, nursing
-madonnas, garlic sandwiches, and chianti bottles, or the stifling
-wooden boxes of Northern India crowded with Afridi and Babus, no train
-in all the world is as domestic as the Japanese _kisha_. Friends and
-the friends of friends come to rejoice in the dramatic formalities of
-farewell. If perchance any individual on the platform is neither the
-friend nor the friend of a friend of some departing one he takes an
-altruistic pleasure in smiling upon the opportunities of others.
-
-We bought our pots of tea with tiny earthenware cups attached and put
-them on the floor as did everyone else; and we also bought our _bento_
-boxes, of rice, raw fish, pickles, seaweed, and bamboo shoots, from
-the criers of “_Bento! Bento!! Bento!!!_” The train started. No one was
-bored; the children were not restless; and we of our carriage stayed
-awake or went to sleep in every posture possible to the flexibility of
-human limbs matched against the rigidity of wooden seats. The babies
-came along and became acquainted and we sent them back to their parents
-carrying gifts of cigarettes.
-
-Curled up on the seat across from ours, with her head resting on her
-luggage, was a girl about twenty years of age. She was a Eurasian and
-was beautiful rather than pretty. Now and again her graceful arm raised
-her fan but otherwise she did not move. Her dark eyes returned no
-curious glances. Her mood of mind and soul seemed as frozen and hard
-as the blue ice of a mountain glacier. It was a passionate negativity,
-her defence against the instinct of society, which eternally wages war
-upon the hybrid. It is instinctive, this struggle of the race mass
-mind against the disintegration of its integrity. She had learned the
-meaning of glances. The Eurasian must expiate a guiltless guilt. She
-did not ask for quarter in the battle; far back of that cold, defensive
-gaze was the strength of two proud races. Character makes fate, said
-the Greeks. Inevitability may make tragedy. We were to pick up the
-threads of old tales of love and tragedy along the valley of the Kiso,
-but in the life of that strange, fearless, beautiful Eurasian girl was
-the web and woof of a yet uncompleted story. When we at last passed our
-bundles out of the window at Agematsu she had not stirred.
-
-We had been carried out of the plains and night was coming down. Hori
-voiced an inquiry about our landing spot. It was indeed high time to
-be located some place for dinner and the night. Our indifference to
-particularization about our landing had begun to harass him. In Kobe
-and Nagoya when our surpassing indefiniteness had come out he had
-nodded and said, “yes,” evidently putting his faith in the belief that
-there would surely be an eventual limit to such casualness. I was slow
-to realize his worry but when I did some primitive idea of justice told
-me that his breaking into the inefficiency of our methods ought to be
-more gentle and gradual. I whispered this intuition to O-Owre-san and
-thus, when the train halted at the next platform, out went our luggage
-and we were left standing to watch the fiery cloud of cinders disappear
-into the blue-grey mist.
-
-It had grown cold. The rain was curiously like snow, drifting through
-the air, seemingly without weight. There was the beginning of a path
-up a slippery clay hill, the upper reaches of which were lost in fog
-and darkness. Even the short distances of vision, which until then
-had endured, succumbed before we had scrambled up the hill. We made a
-careful reconnaissance with hands and feet and found that the mountain
-path at the top branched in several directions. The town might lie in
-any direction. For more meditative cogitation Hori carefully lowered
-the bicycle to its side but unfortunately there was no ground beneath
-and off it slid. We heard it painfully scraping down the rocks. In
-Alpine fashion we had to go after it. We crawled back again to stand in
-a circle on the road, drenched and mud covered.
-
-Dinner, bed, and bath might be within a hundred yards but to take the
-wrong path might mean to wander until sunrise. At least so we thought.
-Such a variety of adventure is much more interesting in retrospect
-than prospect. However, it was worse to stand still. We started on an
-exploration, craftily putting the bicycle next to the precipice. On
-peaceful days the gears often meshed in moderate quietness but at any
-time when its companions failed in omnipotent judgment they would
-grind out a wailing reiteration of: “I told you so. I told you so.” We
-were shuffling along to the measure of that lamentation when suddenly
-there was a sparkle of light ahead. It was from a lantern. The bearer
-was a peasant bundled up in a rush grass cape. He lifted the light into
-our faces and then gave a single sharp cry of fear. Next he shut his
-eyes tightly and was speechless.
-
-A well-balanced consideration for the rights of one’s brothers is
-intended for normal times. Now that a guide had offered himself to
-us out of the darkness we purposed to keep him, although for a few
-minutes he seemed a rather useless discovery. Hori managed at length
-to pry the man’s eyes open with wet fingers and, then with fair words
-sought to persuade him that if we were not ghosts we obviously needed
-his help, but that if we were, then any sense left in him should tell
-him that it would be far better to listen to our request to guide us
-to an inn and to leave us there than to risk our trailing him to his
-own home. He grasped Hori’s point. We followed after our guide and, as
-we had suspected, the distance to the village was only a few steps. At
-the threshold of the inn our guide bolted. If he had been cherishing a
-grudge he should have waited to see our reception. It was not pleasing
-to us.
-
-Hori advanced into the courtyard to engage in Homeric debate. The fog
-sweeping in struggled with the lights of the lanterns and candles. The
-picture was a theatrical composition. There were the three rain-soaked,
-laden intruders facing the maid-servants. The maids’ _kimono_ sleeves
-were pinned back to their shoulders and their skirts were gathered up
-through their girdles. Their faces and limbs gleamed in the coppery
-light. The door to the steaming kitchen opened on to the courtyard and
-within its shadows the pots and kettles hanging on the walls caught the
-glowing flame of the charcoal. I suppose there was not a more honest
-inn in all the land but the wild, picaresque picture suggested an
-imagining by Don Quixote painted by Rembrandt or Hogarth or Goya. It
-was a point of immediate reality, however, which concerned us, and that
-point was that we were so far in the inn but no farther, and no farther
-did we get.
-
-They gave a reason. They said that the inn was full. It seemed so
-ridiculous to have had such trouble in finding an inn and then to lose
-it that O-Owre-san and I began laughing. We laughed inordinately, but
-our barbarous merriment brought our listeners no nearer to changing
-their conviction that the inn was full. There was another inn farther
-down the street, they said, and we borrowed a lantern and a coolie
-from them and started. The coolie ran ahead and when we arrived at the
-second inn the mistress and all her maid-servants were at the door.
-From the length of Hori’s argument I became suspicious that we again
-were not considered desirable, but after a time he turned and said:
-“It’s all right.”
-
-As soon as we were in our room, hurriedly getting ready for the bath, I
-tried to find out from Hori what the long debate was about, but English
-is evidently much more laconic than Japanese. He summed it all up by
-saying that they feared the inn was unworthy of foreigners. Admirable
-_bushido_! What inn in the wide world could have been worthy of such
-bedraggled wanderers? However, once we were allowed within the walls
-and recognized as guests the spirit of hospitality welled solicitously.
-
-Listen, O dogmatists! The joy of the finding is not always less than
-the joy of the pursuit. If there are doubters let them seek the
-Nakescendo trail and find the second inn of Agematsu, there to learn
-that no dinner that they have ever imagined can equal the realization
-they will discover inside the lacquer bowls and porcelain dishes which
-will be brought to them.
-
-The maid who had been assigned to administer to our comfort accepted
-her duty as a trust. She was unbelievably short, but was very sturdy.
-Her broad face and the strength of her round, unshaped limbs proclaimed
-the hardy bloom of the peasantry. The physical, mental, and emotional
-unity which comes as the heritage of such unmixed rustic blood is in
-itself a prepossessing charm. Our daughter of Mother Earth was as
-maternal as she was diminutive. She might think of a thousand services,
-her bare feet might start of an instant across the mats to respond to
-any requests, but never did she surrender one iota of her instinctive
-belief that we, merely being men, were only luxurious accessories
-for the world to possess. She was so primordially feminine that she
-inspired a terrifying thought of the possibility of society being
-sometime modelled after the queendom of the bees.
-
-She had never seen a foreigner but she had heard much gossip of
-our strange customs. Her inquiring mind was intent upon verifying
-this gossip as far as possible. She was also very curious about our
-possessions. She taught us how to hold our chopsticks and how to drink
-our soup. She told us that we drank too silently. A little more noise
-from our lips, she said, would show that we were appreciating the
-flavour. She did acknowledge in us some aptitude to learn, implying
-that if a more advanced state of culture had existed in the feminine
-family group of our homes over the seas we might have been mothered
-into some respectability. So saying, she arose sturdily to her full
-height and bore away the dinner tables. Then she returned to make the
-beds, struggling with the mattresses as might an ant dragging oak
-leaves.
-
-When the beds were finally laid she brought a fresh brewing of tea and
-replenished the charcoal in the _hibachi_. She lighted our after dinner
-cigarettes for us by pressing them against the embers. She sat waiting
-until we had dropped the last stub into the ashes. Then guardian midget
-rolled back the quilts, ordered us to bed, tucked us in carefully,
-giving to each impartially a good-night pat. Her day’s work finished,
-assuredly her efforts entitled her to a quiet enjoyment of one of the
-cigarettes! She sat down on the foot of my bed and deeply drawing in
-the smoke, blew it into the air with a sigh of contentment.
-
-“I have been told,” she said, “that foreigners marry for love. Can that
-be true?”
-
-We assured her that that custom existed.
-
-“Um-m-m,” she pondered. Our examination was evidently of import. She
-took another step in questioning.
-
-“But if you married for love how can you be happy to travel so far away
-from your wives?”
-
-She gasped at our claim of non-possession.
-
-We made a second insistence regarding our unsocial state. She did
-not put aside her good nature but she berated us roundly for our
-unkindness, our lack of taste, in thinking that we could joke in such a
-way just because she was a peasant girl in a country inn, but when we
-further insisted upon repeating our tale she was really hurt. There is
-a time, she said, for joking to come to an end. If it were always thus
-our custom to insist upon a joke long after it had been laughed at and
-appreciated, then she did not believe that she had excessive pity for
-our wives and children in their being left behind while we wandered.
-
-She then dismissed us from her questioning and appealed exclusively
-to Hori. She could understand that if we had been forced to marry by
-parental social regulation and had been united to wives whom we did
-not and could not love, perhaps it would be quite within reason that
-we should wish to have vacations in singleness, but to have had the
-privilege of marrying for love and then to be wandering alone--oh, it
-was un-understandable.
-
-“Well,” said Hori mysteriously, “I think that what they have said is
-the truth but it may not be all the truth. In their country certain
-desperately wicked criminals are not allowed the privilege of marrying.”
-
-There is a glamour which hangs over the notoriously wicked. The maid’s
-glances were now modified by appropriate awe into distinct respect. She
-got up, and endeavouring for dignity built a tower out of the scattered
-cushions. She climbed upon this shaky height and turned out the light.
-Then she hurried away to the backstairs regions with her tale.
-
-In the morning it was raining. When we got up we could hear no sounds
-below and when we went to the bath there were no maids to fill the
-brass basins. Hori wandered off to the kitchen to find hot water and
-we did not see him again until after our maid, very heavy-eyed, had
-brought the breakfast tables to our room. He came as the bearer of
-two items of information which he had gleaned from the mistress. The
-first was that there had been a council sitting on our morals, presided
-over by our maid, which had lasted through the hours of the night. The
-second item was the truthful reason why we had been turned away from
-the first inn and the confirmation of our suspicions that we had gained
-admittance where we were only by an extremely narrow margin.
-
-Once upon a time two foreigners had passed through Agematsu and had
-been received as guests in one of the inns. That advent had been so
-many years before that a new generation of mistresses and maids had
-succeeded the victims of the marvellous invasion, but the legend of
-that night of terror had been handed down undimmed. “And what do you
-think was their unspeakable atrocity?” Hori asked dramatically. “_They
-made snowballs from the rice of the rice box at dinner and threw them
-at each other and at the maids!_”
-
-From time to time, through the mountains, we heard again the legend
-of those two remarkable _seiyo-jins_. We grew to have an admiration
-for knaves so lusty in their revels that they could leave behind such
-a never fading flower of memory. They must have gone forth to their
-travels minutely familiar with the code of Japanese etiquette, so
-thoroughly were they skilled in fracturing it. A riot might have been
-forgiven, and forgotten, but not the throwing of rice on the floor.
-The one constant forbidding under which a child is brought up finally
-leaves no process of thought in the brain that anyone could ever
-intentionally offend against the cleanness of the matting. It is less a
-_gaucherie_ to set fire to a friend’s house and burn it to the ground
-than to spill a bowl of soup.
-
-We waited for the rain to clear away, but as it did not we borrowed
-huge paper umbrellas and wandered off down the valley. We were in the
-midst of a silk spinning district and in almost every doorway sat some
-woman of the household busily capturing the silken threads from the
-cocoons. We asked permission to rest in the door of a carpenter’s shop
-which overhung the rocky Kiso and was shaded by the tops of great pines
-which grew from the sides of the valley bed. The carpenter brought us
-tea and stopped for a moment to point the view through the trees which
-had been the companion of his life.
-
-Sometimes poverty seems to be an absolute and unarguable condition;
-at other times one’s ideas as to the what and when of poverty are so
-shifting as merely to be interrogations. There was the poverty in that
-valley of the struggle for some slight margin above dire want; the silk
-workers were speeding their machines for their pittance; the carpenter
-was busy through every hour of daylight. Economics and efficiency are
-everyday words but what is their ultimate meaning not in dollars but in
-life? What are the real wishes of the leaders in Tokyo, the statesmen
-who are planning policies and at the same time must strive to please
-the great banking houses of the world?--do they look forward to the
-time when factories will fill the land and the spinners will not be
-sitting in their own doorways but the children of to-day’s workers will
-be standing in long rows before machines? “We are taught,” explained
-a Japanese, “to pay our heavy taxes cheerfully so that the empire may
-expand and develop. Wealth will be thus created and then taxes can be
-reduced.”
-
-Hori had remembrance of a traveller’s tale which he had heard long
-before of an ancient tea-house along the Kiso famous both for its
-noodle soup and its view of the spot locally believed to have been
-the awakening place of Urashima when he returned from the Island of
-the Dragon King. Considering that the story explicitly states that
-Urashima awoke on the seashore, the faith of the inland believers
-is really more marvellously imaginative than the story itself. The
-trudging coolies whom we stopped had never heard of the tea-house.
-Therefore we knocked at the first gate we came to in the bamboo wall
-along the road to find that our footsteps had magically led us to the
-famed spot itself. We left our muddy boots at the door and a maid
-showed us the way to the balcony of the room of honour from which we
-could see the tumbling river. The view is called “The Awakening.” An
-islet emerges from the foam of the waters and its rocks have been made
-to serve as a miniature temple garden. There is another view farther
-down the bank, from which the dwarfed pines and stone lanterns of the
-island may be seen to better advantage. Cicerones lie in wait there
-for the sightseer. In delightful contrast to the urgings generally
-experienced from the tribe, these guides were quite shy in the presence
-of foreigners.
-
-The daughter of the house, in a _kimono_ of silk and brocade, herself
-brought the tray of tea and _sake_ and a pyramid dish of noodles.
-The porcelain was old and of tempting beauty. The tea was fragrant.
-Hori insisted that we should extemporize poetry to express our
-appreciation of the beauty of the Kiso, but O-Owre-san and I were
-rather self-conscious in our rhymes. We had been nurtured in a land of
-specialization where poetry is entrusted to professionals. The sun came
-out. We paid our reckoning, folded up our paper umbrellas, and walked
-back to our inn for a long night’s sleep.
-
-
-
-
-VI THE ADVENTURE OF THE BOTTLE INN
-
-
-In the morning Hori discovered that his military survey map somehow
-had been mistaken for a sheet of wrapping paper the day before. The
-torn-off section had served to carry rice cakes in my pocket. The
-tearing had strangely traversed mountains, valleys, and rivers along
-almost the line we purposed following. As Hori was still unemancipated
-from the idea that not to know where one is is to be lost, he was
-rather in a maze for the next few days, as we continually wandered off
-the edge of the map into unknown regions. He must have marvelled at
-times over the kindness of the Providence which had guided our steps
-from Kyoto to Nagoya.
-
-The valley of the Kiso earnestly seeks to attest the theory that the
-inhabitants of localities with a similar climate and topography tend
-to have similar ideas, especially in working out ways of doing the
-same thing. The wide sweeping view with the snow-topped mountains on
-the horizon might have been Switzerland, and for a more decisive
-deceiving of the eye into thinking so the cottages of the peasants had
-the overhanging roof of the Swiss chalet with the same pitch and the
-same arrangement of rows of boulders on them. It is a province, also,
-of trousered women.
-
-We came upon a wistful-eyed, pink-cheeked, timid fairy of the
-mountains. She was carrying on her back a huge, barrel-shaped basket
-and she bent forward as she slowly walked along, her eyes fixed on a
-handful of wild flowers in her fingers. Even our modest knowledge of
-the folklore of the land told us that she must be a princess who had
-been captured by ugly trolls. They had set her to impossible labour
-as their revenge against her beauty. A young man whose niche in the
-world was beyond our determining--although we thought he might be a
-student on a vacation walking trip--had caught up with us a half-hour
-before and had been measuring his step with ours. When he discovered
-that I wished to take a picture of the princess he assisted with such
-effective blandishment of speech that she halted for an instant. When I
-asked that I might also photograph him, he laughed and vaulted up among
-the rocks and disappeared.
-
-[Illustration: WE CAME UPON A WISTFUL-EYED, TIMID FAIRY OF THE
-MOUNTAINS]
-
-A little farther along we met the six sisters of the princess. They
-were carrying burdens equally as large and heavy as had she, but
-they were not so pretty nor so wistful, albeit they were just as timid.
-We never could find any key to the mystery why our appearance along
-the highway would sometimes be as startling as if we were ghostly
-apparitions, and at other times it would merely bring about a casual
-interest and staring, if it brought any interest at all. Upon this
-occasion it was a panic. The six maidens beheld us, they shrieked in
-unison, and they jumped from the road, trying to hide behind rocks and
-trees. Their lithe limbs might have carried them like fawns, if their
-shoulders had been freed from the huge baskets, but, as it was, their
-flight was more like that of some new and enormous variety of the
-beetle tribe, evoluted so far as to wear cotton clothes and to have
-pretty human heads turbaned under blue and white handkerchiefs. As a
-son of Daguerre, I should have tarried for an instant to photograph
-their amazing struggle, but an upsetting obsession of chivalry hurried
-us on. By the time we turned to look back they had scrambled to the
-road, all six princesses accounted for. They, too, turned to look at
-us and from the safety of distance began to laugh. The comedy might
-thus have ended if it had not been that at that instant Hori rounded
-the bend of the road with his thumb pressed vigorously against the
-strident bicycle bell. The beetles (or, better to say, the wingless
-butterflies) again took flight. We awaited their second reappearance.
-This time they did not venture laughter until they reached the curve
-and made sure of no further dismay.
-
-Hori dismounted and pushed the bicycle along and we entered into
-one of our unending discussions. A subject sometimes in debate
-was O-Owre-san’s and my intense interest--our curiosity--in the
-conversations that Hori had with passersby along the road or in the
-shops. Sometimes, when we had made some simple inquiry in a shop, Hori
-would ask a long question; the shopkeeper would answer; Hori would
-enter a counter dissertation; the shopkeeper would make his reply to
-that; Hori would reply; the shopkeeper would reply; Hori would reply;
-and then it might be that the shopkeeper would have the conclusion.
-Hori might then turn to us with: “He says ‘no.’”
-
-In the port city shops where English is spoken, if there is but one
-clerk he will answer your questions immediately. If there are two,
-every question is thoroughly discussed in Japanese before answering,
-and if there be three, four, or five clerks, the debate goes on to
-extraordinary length. Again and again we asked Hori for a complete
-translation but it must have been that he believed within himself that
-he had asked the question in the simplest terms, for we seldom got a
-verbatim translation.
-
-We were in the midst of some such discussion when we looked up to see
-an old man standing before us, leaning on a long staff. His white beard
-fell benignly and his steady eyes carried a message of goodwill. He
-returned our greetings by a dignified inclination of his head. We were
-at the peak of the road and, as often may be found at such points,
-there was a small rest tea-house for travellers. We asked the old man
-if he would sit down with us and share a pot of tea.
-
-The iron pot, filled with mountain spring water, steamed hospitably on
-the _hibachi_ and the fragrance of the tea was a friendly invitation
-to relax. Our guest stood his long staff in the corner, sat down on
-a cushion, and drew his feet from his dusty sandals. After the true
-manner of happily met travellers he was easily persuaded to tell us the
-tale of his wanderings. The translation is somewhat rhetorical but, as
-Hori explained, the tale was told in the language of etiquette.
-
-“I was born,” said he, “in the forty-first year of the rule of the
-Shogun Ienari. I was young and am now old. My eighty and seven summers
-have seen the downfall of the once mighty before the rising to full
-glory of the Meiji, and now, from the Palace of Yedo, shine upon us the
-divine rays of the Way of Heaven. Great is the Mercy of Enlightenment.
-The Eternal Glory is the Way.
-
-“As a child I knew these mountains which you see. The provinces of our
-land were then fortified by many castles and these roads were traversed
-by armed men. The castles have been razed to the ground but the temples
-of the gods still stand. The two-sworded warriors have gone but I, a
-humble pilgrim, walk the roads they once knew. The white clouds rest in
-the blue sky above Fuji-san as when I looked upon them as a child. The
-clouds will rest above Fuji when these eyes shall see them not.
-
-“In the fourteenth year of my youth I took the vow that my life should
-be lived in honouring the holy images of Buddha, each and all as my
-steps might find them, from the shrines erected by the peasants to the
-bronze statues of the great temples. I took the very staff which you
-see and the clothes that were upon my back and bade my family good-bye.
-Through the kindness in the hearts of men, the lowly and the mighty,
-the gods have provided me with food and rest. I have travelled without
-illness and my spirit has known the joy of the Way.”
-
-[Illustration: “IN THE FOURTEENTH YEAR OF MY YOUTH I TOOK THE VOW THAT
-MY LIFE SHOULD BE LIVED IN HONORING THE HOLY IMAGES OF BUDDHA”]
-
-In those years that his bowl had not gone empty of rice, never, it may
-be believed, did anyone give to him as a beggar asking. Japan is of the
-East, possessing the intuition that the spiritual is a mystic interflow.
-
-His eyes were young; they were not clouded in contemplation of the
-abstract. They sparkled from a delight in life. It had not been
-demanded of him that his vicarious pilgrimage should be one of tragic
-sacrifice. He had given and he had received. While his theoretical
-faith might be that life is an illusion and only the Way is eternal,
-nevertheless he was born to love his fellowmen and he could not escape
-from the practical faith that was in him that this temporal life must
-be of some use and of some meaning. I remembered in strange comparison
-a sturdy British unemployed whom I had once come upon. He was lying
-under a hedge in Monmouthshire. He borrowed a pipeful of tobacco and
-then turned over onto his back to gaze into the blue sky. After a time
-he said: “Activity is a fever. Therefore it is a disease. Laziness is
-a promise. Rest and forgetfulness are divine.” He did not make the
-effort to add a good-bye when I left him.
-
-A path of our pilgrim led over the road which we had just travelled. We
-parted, bowing many times. Hori unfolded his ravaged map and found a
-village named Narii a few miles farther along. The railroad down in the
-valley according to the map went somewhere near Narii. Hori’s nerves
-had been rasped by the temperamental vagaries of the bicycle on the
-steep slopes and he decided to await a train, promising to meet us.
-
-After a time our path dropped down to the bed of the river. Across a
-bridge the road forked, one branch continuing along the valley and the
-other winding off into the hills. The hill trail, particularly as it
-led into the unknown regions off Hori’s map, tempted, and we shouted
-down an inquiry to some children playing in the water. They were
-successfully attempting to get as wet as possible while remaining as
-dirty as possible. There is a mystery which overhangs grimy Japanese
-children. When the little noses present a constant temptation to the
-_seiyo-jin_ handkerchief that in itself is a caste sign that you
-will find the faces of their fathers and mothers unhappy, dull, and
-lustreless. When the children are brightly scoured and polished there
-is a general appearance of happiness and contentment in the community.
-It is not the simple equation that poverty equals dirt; one village is
-scrubbed and the next one is not--otherwise neither seems richer nor
-poorer except in happy looks.
-
-When we called to the children in the Kiso they splashed out of the
-water like wild animals and scattered in all directions, but as two
-naked infants too small to run had been left on the shore, first the
-girls and then the boys began to edge back. They remained to stare.
-We pointed up the mountain path and asked if it led to Narii. Their
-gestures evinced a fierce encouragement to essay the ridges as if they
-had the contempt of the untamed for anything as conventional as a broad
-valley road. As a matter of fact they were undoubtedly saying that the
-valley road did not lead to Narii. We discovered this later when we
-could look down from the heights. Hori’s railroad tunnelled the hills.
-
-According to local belief our path carried us over the “backbone”
-of the empire, and this crossing spot is considered sacred ground.
-Accordingly we should have paid special homage to the local deity
-whose shrine we passed, but as we were foreigners and in ignorance,
-the god perhaps forgave us. Furthermore, we unknowingly passed a
-particularly renowned view of very holy Mount Ontake. We probably did
-see the mountain, but being uninformed, as I said, of this special
-view, we did not hold ourselves in proper restraint until reaching the
-exact spot for appreciation. Instead we luxuriously and squanderously
-revelled in all four directions of the compass. It is always thus
-with the ignorant. Their indiscriminate enthusiasm is more irritating
-to the intellectuals than no appreciation at all. I was later most
-depressingly snubbed for having missed the sacred view by a scholar
-of things Japanese. He knew it from prints and sacred writings. He
-said that he himself would have journeyed to see the reality if it had
-not been for the probable annoyance of having to come in contact with
-so many natives on the journey. He appeared to be impatient that the
-British Museum does not commandeer all views, temples, and abiding
-places of art around the world and establish turnstiles which will keep
-the natives out and let the scholars in. When he actually grasped that
-our only reason for having arrived at that particular spot at all was
-that we had taken a turning to the right instead of to the left, he
-declared that our ideas of travelling evidence the same intelligence
-as might the tripping of tumbling beans and that our very presence at
-sacred places was a sacrilege.
-
-We turned a corner that hung sharply over the precipice. Around the
-bend the shelf spread out into a miniature meadow. A peasant was lying
-on the grass and his straw-bonneted ox was leisurely nibbling. We sat
-down beside him and O-Owre-san began searching in his rucksack for a
-remaining cake of chocolate. During this hunt the peasant kept his eyes
-carefully and earnestly averted. I made the remark to him that the view
-was _kirei_ and he replied by a nervous _hei_. O-Owre-san found the
-chocolate and broke it into three parts. He handed one of the squares
-to the peasant. The fingers that reached out for it were trembling.
-
-The man had imaginative eyes. It was plain to see that he was suffering
-from some lively remembrance of a mountain folklore demon story. He
-knew that we were foxes or badgers who had assumed human form, and
-that we had come to him with no good intentions. He suspected a subtle
-poison. But he had courage from one thought. It is the common knowledge
-of the countryside that while the demands of demon badgers may not
-be directly refused, their evil intent may often be thwarted by the
-crafty intelligence of man. The immediate problem was how to avoid the
-appearance of refusing to eat the mysterious cake which was now getting
-soft and moist in his hand. Suddenly he popped the chocolate into his
-mouth, tin foil and all. Then he pushed back the square into his hand
-almost in the same movement. I pretended not to be watching. He dropped
-his hand with elaborate carelessness into the thickness of the grass. I
-felt a sense of dramatic relievement myself.
-
-During those minutes the ox had been no such respecter of enchantment
-as had his master. Instead, he had stood sniffing at our boots and
-pulling up bits of grass round and about our ankles, all the time
-rolling a pair of red, angry eyes. Asiatic beasts of burden find
-something antagonistic to their complaisance in the odour of the
-Caucasian and this individual ox was progressing toward a positive
-bovine dissatisfaction. Furthermore, we were sitting on the sweetest
-and most tender tufts of grass remaining. We courteously dismissed the
-peasant to go his way. His marked alacrity was quite welcome.
-
-We lingered on the grass for a little while and I told O-Owre-san my
-guesses. I elaborated them into the hazard that the poor man--he had
-not once turned to look back over his shoulder--might even then be
-fearing that the slight taste from the chocolate would turn him into
-a frog and his ox into a stork to eat him up; or perhaps he might be
-in distress that he and his beast might grow smaller and smaller until
-they would disappear into thin air.
-
-O-Owre-san had been examining the faintness of the path. “I hope none
-of these things happen until the man gets over the hills to Narii. The
-hoof prints make an excellent trail,” he said.
-
-It was time to sling on our packs and follow. When we reached the next
-turn we could see the peasant’s straw hat and the ox’s straw bonnet
-bobbing along just over the bush tops. We maintained this distance
-without closing the gap. As O-Owre-san had predicted, the hoof marks
-were useful. The path often grew so faint that it had no other resolute
-indication. We had been sure, without thought of other possibility,
-that the crest of the hill we were climbing would be the summit of the
-range. When we reached the crest we stood looking up at another peak
-rising from a shallow valley at our feet.
-
-“Which way does the ox say to go?” I asked.
-
-The hoof marks were there in the soft earth, but where our feet had
-stopped there they had stopped. They stopped as absolutely as if the
-peasant and his ox had been whisked away in a chariot to the sunset
-sky. The bushes were too low for concealment. There was no cave, nor
-hole in the earth.
-
-If there be no such thing as magic, in the Japanese mountains at least,
-where did that man and his beast go? The disappearance was as complete
-as the most exacting enchanter could have desired. We found no answer
-to the riddle and the sun was sinking, adding the next question of how
-we were going to get out of the hills in the night time if we delayed
-for scientific investigation. We succumbed to expediency and took a
-five-mile-an-hour pace over such trail as we had left, guessing at the
-turns. When we finally reached the next crest, deep in the valley we
-could see Narii. Before descending the steep, dropping path, we sat
-down near a spring where the birds had come to drink. They were singing
-evening songs mightily. Bright wild flowers were scattered in the open
-spaces between the intense green of the fern patches. The world was
-lustily at peace.
-
-When we did start we swung down the long hill almost at a run and in a
-half-hour reached the edge of the village to find Hori sitting under
-a stone lantern in the temple yard. The evening peace had made us
-positive that this is the best of all possible worlds, but Hori was
-entertaining a different idea. He looked exceedingly gloomy. We were
-impatient of any discontent. If he had said that men were starving for
-rice in the village beyond, the fitting answer would have seemed to us
-the historic words of the good queen: “Give them cake.” Undoubtedly
-when the message about the starving peasants was brought to that Lady
-of France she was sitting under the shrubbery at Versailles, and the
-birds were singing, and it was springtime, and perhaps the fountains
-were playing. Impellingly she realized with an insight deeper than any
-historian has ever appreciated that upon such a glorious day, if there
-is any such thing as right or justice at all in this world, a certain
-amount of cake should be everybody’s inalienable possession.
-
-As it happened, Hori’s worry had nothing to do with altruistic sorrow
-for starving villagers, but existed from a lively interest in our own
-affairs. The town was very poor, he explained, a town come down in the
-world from ancient prosperity. Its neck was hung with the millstone
-of decayed graces and thinned blood. The inn was so old that it was
-senile. Hori had established some excuse before entering the door for
-inspection which later allowed his rejection of the inn’s hospitality,
-but it would never do for us in turn to venture in for a glance around.
-That would be needlessly raising the expectation of the ancient host.
-We would find, he suggested, that it would be only five or six or seven
-miles to the next village. As we had had twenty-five or more miles
-behind us and most of those had been along mountain paths, we were
-not so inevitably tempted at that hour of night to be particular in a
-choice of roofs as Hori, who had come by train, was imagining.
-
-The inn, in truth, was very old. By any law of survival chances the
-wandering wings should have burned to earth long ago. To greet us
-there were no smiling and chattering maids gathered behind a mistress;
-instead, an old man and a very small girl, his granddaughter or more
-likely his great-granddaughter, met us in the dark entrance with
-protests that the house was unworthy of our presence. We hastily denied
-them their words. Hori could employ the polite phrases of Japan. We
-impulsively, directly, and bluntly told them “no.” It was not alone the
-pathos of the two figures which appealed. It was somewhat that their
-dignity had not surrendered to ruin, and it was somewhat a something
-else, indescribable, in the atmosphere that charmed.
-
-We followed the master along a labyrinthine corridor. The soft wood
-planks of the floor had been polished to a deep reddish gleam under the
-bare feet of generations of hurrying _ne-sans_. He led us past inner
-courtyards to the farthest wing. Our room hung over the river at an
-elbow of the stream. Even with the _shogi_ pushed wide open we were
-hidden completely from the eyes of the town by heavily leafed trees.
-
-The mats on the floor had turned a dingy, mottled brown and black
-from their once light golden yellow, but they were clean. The sacred
-_takemona_ corner still compelled its importance. It had been built in
-an age when the demand for its existence was the ardent faith of the
-builders rather than an architectural tradition. The room was about
-thirty-five feet long and fifteen feet deep, perhaps a little larger.
-The ceiling was proportionately high.
-
-Hori was still doubtful, not gloomily so, but from the knowledge that
-an inn is proved by its service. The host was kneeling, as immobile
-as a temple image, awaiting our orders. His skin was as bloodless as
-the vellum of the painting which hung behind him. His watchful eyes,
-however, were intensely bright in their deep sockets. Hori began
-inquiries about dinner. The ancient bowed his head to the floor,
-drawing in his breath sharply against his teeth. Dinner was now being
-prepared for his family, he said, but it would be unworthy of his
-guests. The formal phrase of polite deprecation carried this truth, as
-Hori discovered by further questioning; it was not that the dinner was
-or was not worthy--it was the failure of _quantity_. We should not have
-long to wait, said our host, but food would have to be sent for.
-
-As we sat in a circle planning what we should have, the old man smiled
-and pointed to a patched square in the matting. Underneath the square,
-he said, was a depression for holding bronze braziers. When the
-nobility, in the old feudal times, had travelled the Nakescendo trail,
-this was the room of honour that had been given to the _daimyos_. It
-had been often the custom for the retainers of a _daimyo_ themselves
-to prepare his dinner over the braziers. Our sitting there, planning
-what we should have, had reminded him of the dead past. His words came
-slowly as if between each word of recollection his spirit journeyed
-back into the very maw of oblivion and then had to return again to the
-world.
-
-“Are the braziers still hidden there?” Hori interrupted.
-
-Yes, the braziers were under the floor or somewhere to be found.
-
-Hori turned to us and put us through a questioning until he
-rediscovered the word “picnic” for his vocabulary. “That’s what we will
-have, a picnic, right here,” he declared, and he turned back to the
-host to explain. The old man almost gasped, at least approaching as
-near to such escape of emotion as he probably ever had at the request
-of a guest.
-
-“But you will then have to have a special waitress,” he said. “My
-granddaughter is indeed too young for that privilege.” Always when he
-used depreciatory adjectives about the child’s unworthiness he failed
-lamentably to harden his caressing tone. She was, however, as he had
-said, little older than a baby. The services of a maid we should have
-to pay for, but, under the spell of the conjuring up of the memories of
-those bygone revels in our room, what cared we for saving our precious
-_yen_? We had become reincarnations of the two-sworded swaggerers. We
-waved our arms grandiloquently.
-
-“Tell him to send for fowls for the pot,” we oratorically assailed
-Hori. “Let us mix rich sauces and warm the _sake_. And tell him to
-remember that for us there can be but one choice--the maid to serve our
-dinner must be the prettiest maid in all Narii.”
-
-I had not the slightest idea that Hori would translate our exact words,
-but I found later that such was his act.
-
-Thus the mountain village of Narii faced a problem. Two foreigners, and
-a Japanese almost as alien as a foreigner, had appeared from nobody
-knew where, not preceded, ’twas true, by retainers as had been the
-travellers of old, but nevertheless demanded the old-time service with
-as much gusto as if they were accustomed to having what they wished.
-They had asked that the prettiest maid in all Narii be called to the
-inn to exercise the privilege of guarding the steaming rice box. It was
-obvious that there could be only one prettiest maid, and all Narii knew
-with one mind that the prettiest maid was the daughter of the Shinto
-priest. However, the daughter of a priest is not a likely candidate for
-service in an inn, even if the master has ever been a faithful devotee
-of the temple. Nevertheless there was the honour of the hospitality of
-Narii at stake. Messengers (or even appropriately, it might be said,
-heralds) were sent to explain the problem to the maid and her father,
-and to use, if necessary, the pressure of “the state demands.”
-
-Thus came O-Hanna-san to the inn. (In all Japan there cannot be
-a prettier, a more bashful, or a more modest maiden.) Her eyes
-were downcast behind long black lashes. Her soft cheek flushed and
-paled--perhaps somewhat from the excitement of the adventure. Neither
-she nor her friends had ever seen one of that strange race, the
-foreigner. And, indeed, even a priest’s daughter may think that to be
-chosen as the prettiest maid----!! Ah, her courage failed her to glance
-up and words would not come to her lips to answer their questions, but
-they did not seem to be so very predatory nor so very fearsome--and
-they were very hungry.
-
-Two great bronze braziers had been filled with glowing charcoal. The
-foreigners and the outer-world Japanese who could speak their strange
-words were busily cooking the fowls, chopped into dice, and they were
-arguing about their respective talents and abilities, as do all amateur
-cooks. Perhaps she could now look up for an instant unobserved. No, a
-glance met her eyes and she felt hot blushes grow again on her cheek.
-
-While they feasted and laughed she had to run many times to the kitchen
-for forgotten dishes. When she passed along the hall by the entrance
-to the street she was each time stopped and besieged by the questions
-of the gathered mob. (Some of those inquiring investigators had also
-gathered outside the wall of my bath an hour before. I had been
-suddenly aware of an eye at every crack and crevice of the boards as
-I was cautiously stepping into the superheated tub. There was not a
-sound, merely the glitter of their star-scattered eyes.)
-
-The foreigners put sugar on their rice and one of them even put sugar
-in his tea. They handled their chopsticks so awkwardly that it was
-marvellous that they did not spill the rice grains on the matting. She
-thought of the twenty rules in etiquette for the proper and graceful
-use of chopsticks and she imagined that if there had been a ten score
-of rules they might have all been broken. At last the three feasters
-finished their mighty meal and stretched out on the cushions to smoke
-in deep contentment. She doubted whether they had even noticed that her
-superior _kimono_ was not such as a maid of an inn would possess. After
-the feast her quick feet, in spotless white _tabi_, carried away the
-bowls and little tables. Then she sat down by the door to await any
-further clapping of hands.
-
-The host came in, moving silently across the matting. He kneeled and
-bent his forehead to the floor. Before the meal he had himself arranged
-the flowers, in an old iron vase, to stand in the _takemona_ corner. We
-tried to express our appreciation for the flowers and our admiration of
-the vase.
-
-We asked him how old the inn was. It had been his father’s before
-him, and his grandfather’s before his father. Yes, in those days the
-Nakescendo had rivalled the Tokaido, and yearly, on the hastening to
-Yedo to give obeisance to the Shogun, the great nobles of the northwest
-provinces with their armed retainers had had to pass through Narii.
-In the pride of their gifts to the Shogun, in their numbers, in their
-courage, they had never yielded place to the envoys from the great
-families of the South. This now forgotten inn had then been famous.
-Our room, overhanging the river, he repeated, had been only given to
-the _daimyos_. The _samurai_ had crowded the other rooms. The inn
-had boasted a score, two score, of trained and pretty _ne-sans_ to
-wait upon those fiery warriors. (The modern _geisha_, in many of her
-accomplishments, is daughter to the inn maidens of the feudal days
-who sang and danced and played musical instruments in addition to the
-graces of more domestic duties.) The inn had then rung with shouting
-and laughter, and sometimes the dawn of the morning start of the
-cavalcade found the retainers still sitting around the feast.
-
-On the road to Yedo their purses had hung full, but the great city
-always plunged both its hands into those purses filled from the rice
-taxes, and it was often quite another story--the return journey back
-to the provincial castles. No rare occurrence was it indeed, for some
-haughty _samurai_ to declare in the morning that he could not pay his
-inn bill, however modest it might be. Upon one occasion a certain
-warrior had been forced to leave in pledge the first mistress of his
-heart--his sword. A _daimyo_, overlord of a province, could, of course,
-never be in debt to an innkeeper, although he might leave a _gift_ for
-his host instead of money. When such eventuality as that arose the
-host would declare (wisely) that his hospitality had been unworthy
-of any remuneration and that he was a thousand times repaid by the
-magnificence of the gift.
-
-Yes, went on the old man, once a noble upon leaving the door had caused
-a vase to be unwrapped from its encasements of one silken bag after
-another and had given it to the inn. The donor had written a poem of
-dedication with his own hand. The vase was shaped like a bottle and
-the inn had been called “The Bottle Inn” from that day, seventy years
-in the past. Our host, a youth on that day, had thought that the inn
-would ever be rich and renowned. He sighed. The tradition of its renown
-had faded and been forgotten in this age of railways. No longer did
-turbulent guests demand that the bottle be brought out and shown.
-
-If his dramatic genius had been subtly leading us toward turbulence, we
-obeyed the pulling of the strings. We demanded to know whether the vase
-was still under his roof. Our host smiled. The sacred vase was hidden
-safely. Would we like to see it?
-
-He returned, carrying an old wooden box. The great-granddaughter
-dragged the unredeemed sword after her. The well-worn scabbard of the
-sword was of mediocre, conventional design, but the blade had been
-forged by one of the famous sword makers. Hori read the sword’s origin
-from the characters carved in the steel. The old man slowly slipped
-the sword back into the scabbard, leaving us to ponder what might have
-been the tragic fate of the _ronin_ that he had never returned for his
-pledge.
-
-No casket of precious metal can be so alluringly suggestive of trove
-as the simple, unpainted, pine boxes into which the Japanese put their
-treasures. A woven cord clasped down the lid of the box. The untying of
-it began the breathless ceremony. When the lid was lifted we saw the
-first silken wrapping, then came another, and another, and another.
-Some were of brocade, some were of faded plain colour,--red, blue, or
-rose. Finally the drawing string of the last bag was pulled open and
-the old man lifted the bottle. It was of yellow pottery with a thick
-brown glaze overrunning the sides. The mouth of the vase was capped by
-a bronze and silver band carved with an irregular motif.
-
-The trustee of the possession allowed us to pass it from hand to hand.
-
-What was one of our reasons for being in Narii at that very moment? It
-was that our eyes were prying for those rarer treasures in Japan which
-may be sometimes gleaned “away from the beaten path.” Unaccountable
-chance had led us to the inn. The old man was hopelessly beaten in
-his contest with poverty. I knew that he did not wish to sell, but
-if there should be the jingling of a few _yen_--was it likely that
-he could refuse? Our eyes were gleaming with desire. Surely, even if
-it were a venal sin to take away the bottle from The Bottle Inn the
-very greatness of the temptation would have brought its own special
-forgiveness. But because temptation and conscience can generally be
-argued around to our satisfaction, the gods have ironically added
-impulse as the third part of us. It must have been some such impulse
-which was the irrational lever which moved us to action. We soared
-to the heights. It was a superior endurance to any flight that it is
-likely either of us will ever attempt again. Truly such virtue is more
-regretted than gloried in. We did not take the bottle with us. It still
-functions in its environment, in harmony with its tradition. Taken away
-it could be only a superior vase with a history, an object of art. In
-that old inn it is a living part, an inspiration. In the forgotten
-village of Narii no numbered museum tag hangs around its neck.
-
-The bottle dropped back into the brocade bag lined with faded crimson
-silk. Then the other wrappings, one by one, muffled it. It went into
-the box, the lid was fitted into place, and the cord was tied. Do we
-gain strength from resisting such temptation? The writers of the Holy
-Church of the Middle Ages said so. By refusing that bottle I merely
-gained exhaustion. This moment I am stifled by the dust of the ashes
-of that murdered passion. My conscience replies with no response. It
-has lost the vitality of recoil, and thus, if ever such time may come,
-I may yet glory in a greater vandalism, some supreme Hunnish act, and
-there will be no rasping regret.
-
-The breezes up among the snows of the mountains came down into the
-valley for the night. Wherever they were going they seemed to be quite
-undetermined as to their path. They blow from every side and into every
-corner of the room by turn. Little by little, to escape the draughts,
-we had kept pushing along the wooden shutters until we were at length
-completely walled in. It was not possible to imagine that a few miles
-away, down on the rice plains, the millions were nudely stifling while
-we were going to bed to get warm. The daughter of the priest had
-been dragging layers of bedding to the door and, when we clapped our
-hands, she had innumerable mattresses for each of us. For once it was
-unnecessary to stretch the mosquito netting. There seemed to be nothing
-left but to blow out the lights and cry: “_O yasumi nasai!_” to the
-retreating patter of her footsteps.
-
-“What’s the midget granddaughter waiting for?” I asked Hori.
-
-“She wants you to go to bed,” said he from under his quilt.
-
-I jumped into the soft centre of my mattresses as requested. Then the
-butterfly dropped on her knees and crept backward around our beds.
-Out of a box she was pouring a train of powder until she had us each
-enclosed in a magic circle.
-
-“Why?” I demanded.
-
-Kenjiro laughed at me.
-
-“It’s _nomi-yoke_,” he said. “Insect powder--what do you say in
-America? Bug medicine?”
-
-I insisted that I had not seen the sign of a bug or an insect or a flea
-or anything looking like a marauder.
-
-“Of course not,” Hori stopped me as if I should have known better.
-“It’s just courtesy to honoured guests, to show you that they would
-wish to protect you if there were any. If there were crawlers,” he
-concluded with some scorn, “do you suppose they’d make such an effort
-to call attention to the fact?”
-
-That _bushido_ explanation satisfied Hori but I was doubtful. For the
-sake of verification I carefully destroyed the integrity of the rampart
-around my bed by opening up passages through the powder. I was willing
-to display a few bites in the morning to prove the truth. I went to
-sleep dreaming about two-sworded _samurai_ who looked like pinch bugs,
-and they were swaggering around a wall of insect powder. However, the
-morning proved that Hori was quite correct. The delicate attention had
-been born of pure courtesy.
-
-
-
-
-VII THE IDEALS OF A SAMURAI
-
-
-In the morning we found great brass basins of water waiting for us in
-the sunny iris garden. One of the super-errors that a foreigner can
-make in a native inn is to ask to have the basins brought to his room.
-Such a request can be understood only as a perversion, or a barbarity.
-One reason why the houses and inns seem so clean is that they eliminate
-so many of the chances for their being otherwise; and this defence
-might be added into the weighing when criticizing Japanese nudity at
-ablutions.
-
-Breakfast was brought to us steaming under the lacquer covers of the
-bowls, but the priest’s daughter was not holding the wooden ladle
-for the rice. It was a rather late hour when she had returned to her
-father’s house, but the mothers and daughters of a Japanese home are
-accustomed to having their working hours overlap into the night. In
-subtlety we brazenly accused each other of having frightened the gentle
-_ne-san_ into not returning. The truth was--as it afterwards came
-out--that we had each found opportunity to hint to the host’s ear the
-night before that the maid’s slumber by no means should be disturbed
-for our morning’s start. Thus we each privately thought we knew the
-secret of her non-appearance, but just as we were tying on our shoes
-at the door a breathless message was brought by her small brother. She
-had overslept. It had not been our late hour which was responsible. The
-family of the Shinto priest had sat up almost until the first light in
-the East to listen to the wonder tale of their daughter who had endured
-such a singular and daring adventure.
-
-The ancient host gave us presents and we gave him presents. We said our
-farewells at the door and then, after that, he and his granddaughter
-walked along with us half through the village. Finally we bowed our
-formal seven bows of farewell. When we reached the end of the street we
-turned and saw them still standing where we had left them.
-
-The road led across a wide, flat valley. That morning there was a
-truly extraordinary phenomenon. The claret red of the sun flamed and
-danced against the snows of the mountain wall at our left. Finally
-our road broke up into a delta of small paths. The soft earth had
-been so cut into ruts by heavy carts that Hori was forced to accede
-to the demands of the bicycle that it should be assisted and not
-ridden, but he did not surrender until the wheel had demonstrated its
-malevolence by pitching him a half-dozen times off the saddle. Thus
-we all walked along together. The villages were rather mean, with the
-air of having come down in the world. Some of the towns, in the days
-before machinery, had had special fame in the various handicrafts; one
-had been known for its hand-made wooden combs. Evidently there remain
-some conservatives who have not yet countenanced modern vulcanite
-innovations, as wooden combs were still being made for sale. Entire
-families, from grandparents to children, were the manufacturers, the
-factories their own homes. We bought a boxful for a few _sen_. In
-arriving at a selling price they must have valued their time in the
-manufacturing as a gratuitous contribution to the arts.
-
-Every once in a while O-Owre-san and I had had our pleasure in drawing
-the long bow of our imagination concerning the architectural reason for
-a certain peculiar type of house. A recurring example is to be found
-in nearly every village. These buildings are unusually substantial
-and the windows are always heavily barred and shuttered. They give a
-suggestion of descent from the castles of feudal days. As I said, we
-had employed our elaborate imagining over the mysterious buildings,
-but our guesses had never brought us anywhere near to the truth. Hori
-explained that they are the houses of the pawnbrokers. Hori is the
-son of a _samurai_. (He has the right to wear, if he wishes, the full
-number of crests on his formal _kimono_.) The artists who made the old
-colour prints used to give to the eyes of the two-sworded _samurai_
-an expression of warlike ferocity. When Hori spoke of the pawnbrokers
-his eyes glared, and I was sure that I detected his hand starting to
-reach for the sword that has now gone from his girdle. However, the
-ubiquitous bicycle just then swung around and entangled him, as a
-reminder, probably, that this is a new age, a mechanical and not a
-feudal one, and that a _samurai_ no longer has the general and hearty
-acquiescence of law and society to proceed to direct action against
-the loathed money lender. The law of the land says to-day that the
-pawnbroker must be considered as a free and equal citizen, enjoying
-full rights under the mercy of the Mikado; albeit (as the bars and
-shutters of his windows show), the money lender still wisely believes
-in keeping his powder dry even in an age of enlightenment.
-
-When we had extricated Hori from the bicycle and we had all got going
-again, he explained why the pawnbroker is the most hated member of
-Nipponese society. Here are some of the other remarks that Hori made
-about pawnbrokers:
-
-They are always rich. (He meant the Asiatic wealth,--hoards of gold,
-not a checking account at a bank.)
-
-They are uncanny.
-
-They lead isolated, unhappy lives.
-
-They always have a beautiful daughter (one only) to fall heir to the
-riches.
-
-This daughter dreams of noble lovers, but no Japanese, whatever his
-rank, be it noble, humble, or decayed (or, for that matter, no matter
-how much in debt he may be to her father), would ever throw away his
-pride to wed a pawnbroker’s daughter. Thus she is left to grieve out
-her heart in the midst of her father’s luxury.
-
-A Japanese believes certain things patriotically. I know that Hori
-does not believe these same things intellectually, for I was once rude
-enough to continue an argument until he capitulated intellectually--but
-for the love of country and the required loyalty to what should be, he
-also keeps to the beliefs which he should have as a Japanese. After
-all, juxtapositioned to such faith, mere intellectual judgment does
-seem lacking in vital fluid.
-
-The hiatus in Hori’s Japanese life--the foreign period and
-influence--began when he was of the high school age and went to
-America. Thus, at the time when the mind is supposed to be most
-receptive, he was separated from the traditions and ethical customs
-of his homeland, and he made no return home until he had left his
-American university. A peculiar duality may come from such a training.
-It would be impossible otherwise, for instance, that one individual
-should really appreciate both a symphony orchestra and a _samisen_,
-not so much from the angle of technical divergence in the use of
-notes, tones, and scales as in aesthetic comparison. To any human
-being with emotional sensitiveness and response, not possessing a dual
-personality, acknowledgment of the rights of the symphony would seem to
-preclude those of the _samisen_.
-
-I had lost my Japanese pipe. Those little iron bowls continue to be a
-most admirable luxury through all of the days that one is in the land
-of their invention. When the traveller leaves the shores of Japan he
-takes away with him packages of silken tobacco and his pipe, only to
-find that he never lights it again. The charm is broken when the circle
-is broken, and the circle, I suppose, is a unity when one is lying on
-the cushions of a balcony overlooking a garden, and a maid brings the
-charcoal _hibachi_ and a pot of tea. You touch the bowl of the pipe
-to the fire and then--three puffs and a half. You knock the ash into
-a bamboo cup. Perhaps the maid refills the pipe, touches it to the
-charcoal, and hands it to you again.
-
-Ordinarily these pipes are sold everywhere, but at Narii we could not
-find them. When we were walking into Shiogiri I asked Hori to help me
-keep an eye on the shops as we passed. After a time he said: “Here we
-are. Here’s a one-price store.”
-
-We had not come upon just such a shop before. While the stock and
-the arrangement was purely native, the atmosphere of the place was
-distinctly un-Japanese. A little of everything was for sale, but
-instead of the selling being a social ceremony, the shopkeeper and his
-wife and his sons and his daughters were expeditious clerks and not
-hosts. The entering customer asked for what he wished to see, and a
-price tag told him the cost. That was the beginning and the end of any
-bargaining.
-
-In the conventional shop the buyer sits down leisurely, after removing
-his _geta_, and perhaps has a cup of tea. If an ordinary utility is
-wished, the negotiating is necessarily devoid of much opportunity for
-extended approach, consideration, and conclusion, but it is always
-to be remembered that our idea of what is a waste of time may be the
-Japanese idea of a valuably used moment. The little shops have no
-opening and closing hours. Literally, there is all the time there is.
-The clerk does not sell eight, nine, or ten hours of his day to his
-employer. He sells all of it. As it is impossible to keep at high
-pressure for maybe twenty hours of the twenty-four (and twenty hours
-is not an exaggeration in some instances) nature’s insistence for rest
-has to come out of the working day. The fact that the workers are not
-awaiting the striking of a clock for their liberty, but are more or
-less taking it as it comes, accounts for what is often a mystery to
-travellers, the easy gaiety of a busy Japanese street. Workmen put down
-their tools and stop for a visit; the shopkeeper chats indefinitely
-with a customer; the maids at the inns have plenty of time to light
-pipes for the guests and pour tea. Our idea is that the individual’s
-liberty begins at the sharp demarcation of the hour which ceases to
-belong to the employer. After the wanderer has lived for a time in
-the midst of the Oriental system, the impression comes that time is a
-continuous flow and that it is not a succession of intervals as it is
-with us. The people of the East have even found a counteracting thrust
-to oppose the tyranny of the railroad schedule. By arriving at the
-station indefinitely early they can show their contempt for definite
-departures.
-
-While we were buying my new twelve-_sen_ pipe in the Shiogiri one-price
-store, Hori commented with obvious emphasis several times that he
-was pleased that the prices were so carefully marked on the tags. As
-smoking may at any time become a ceremony, I spent many minutes in my
-selection, and through these minutes Hori kept dropping his pointed
-comments, but I stored away the impression of his satisfaction over the
-price tags to be asked about later. An appropriate time did not come
-for several days. An hour came when we were lounging on an inn balcony
-in the soft night air.
-
-It seemed that our method of shopping was the disturbing pressure
-against Hori’s peace of mind. We two foreigners undoubtedly had many
-flaws which came to light under the wear of intimate association,
-but it was this one which at last drove Hori to the verge where he
-had to unburden his feelings. In the curio shops, or wherever we were
-making purchases, when we came upon something that interested us, we
-immediately asked: “How much?” It had been natural, when Hori was
-with us, to rely upon him to interpret rather than to employ our own
-cumbrous methods of transmitting ideas. As soon as we received an
-intimation of the bargain price we proceeded to the bargaining and
-continued until we arrived at what was presumably the lowest compromise
-of the shopkeeper. Hori had also noticed that we sometimes put off
-deciding whether we really wished to purchase until we discovered
-the eventual price. We quite reversed the ceremonial purchase making
-enacted by a Japanese gentleman. As Hori witnessed it, the difference
-was meaningful. The Japanese collector looks first of all at an object
-to see whether it merits his attention. If it does, there follows an
-extended conversation about its intrinsic excellence. Every question as
-to artistic value, authenticity, age, workmanship, uniqueness--these
-are all settled before a word about the price arises. If the object
-does not equal his demands of it, the collector departs without inquiry
-about the money value--for why should he be interested in the cost of
-an article if not in the article itself?
-
-Hori shook his head sadly. “You always ask right away: ‘How much?’” he
-said. “That sounds very mercenary to us. It looks as if you were more
-interested in cheapness than quality.”
-
-We had not suspected that Hori was writhing when, under the pressure
-of our Occidental impetus, he had been asking for us the questions of
-price. As a matter of fact, be it to his credit and our discredit,
-despite the simplification of his quick interpreting against our
-imperfect use of the few words that we did know, when it came to the
-detail of price our efforts often seemed to be able to effect a more
-extraordinary drop from the original quotation than when such arguing
-was put off until all other details were settled. It is true that the
-merchants who have really fine things will not show nor sell their
-best to customers whose appreciation they doubt, but it may also be
-true that as far as we did have appreciation, we made up our minds
-more quickly than does the Japanese collector, and thus the stages of
-consideration which Hori missed were not so much lacking as they were
-abbreviated.
-
-The standards of the _samurai_ when he goes forth to make purchases
-should not be confused as being an index to the methods of modern
-Japan in attacking the world’s markets. In such trading there is
-no nation which is more intent upon giving the customer what the
-customer thinks he wants, and price and profit are sufficiently an
-affair of cold business to be safely refrigerated against any germs of
-sentimentalism. Hori was speaking as the son of the civilization which
-flowered in the feudal days. Whatever that civilization was, it was not
-commercial. In that old régime the shopkeeper was only a shopkeeper,
-and a discussion of ethics in trade occupied little space in the code
-of honour of the nation. When Hori’s fathers stopped to buy a fan or a
-bronze or a roll of brocade or sandals for their feet, or whatever it
-might be that they wished, bargaining stopped as soon as they reached
-the end of their patience--and they were most impatient warriors. They
-might arrogantly pay what was asked, or, if their patience was too far
-gone, they might lop off the head of the obdurate merchant. The last
-probability had a tendency to keep prices fairly near to an equitable
-level when the two-sworded men were purchasers.
-
-It is not an appreciated trait in the modern world to have contempt
-for money. Japan’s nobility, when the _Shogun_ ruled, had sincere
-contempt for money. There is something dramatic, even noble, in
-having such a contempt, but it must be said that it is a much
-easier possession to maintain if back of it the possessors have the
-inalienable ownership of their landed estates. The descendants of the
-ancient orders in Japan do not own the land to-day and, examining
-their position in the cold light of fact, their contempt for any
-consideration of things commercial is the sign-board finger pointing
-to their eventual elimination. It was the miracle of all time when
-those noble families responded to the necessity of the new order,
-forced upon Japan by the outside world, and gave up their feudal
-right to the land to the Emperor for a more democratic distribution.
-They not only surrendered their land in response to the Emperor’s
-edict, but they metamorphosed their sons into statesmen to help carry
-through the ideal. Their children went to foreign lands and laboured
-at menial tasks to learn the ways of the _seiyo-jin_. Returning home
-they recognized that the standards both of commerce and ordinary trade
-had to be raised. Their encouragement to their country to proceed along
-new lines was practical and effective; nevertheless few were the sons
-of the nobility who themselves entered the world of commerce. Rather
-was it that they encouraged a middle class to rise. Even with no longer
-a perpetuation of power through landed estates, the old aristocracy
-has so far continued to exert the preponderating influence in national
-leadership. Can they continue to cherish a contempt of money and at
-the same time withstand the power of the new commercial class which is
-becoming richer every year while they are becoming poorer? Can they
-prove that, even in this age, honour and loyalty need not have to go
-hand in hand with money, and that poverty, second only to death, is not
-the great leveller?
-
-Curiously, indeed, the abandon which comes from contempt for wealth by
-this class in Japan has had a bullish effect in one small department
-of world trade. Westerners first thought of Japan as a nation so given
-over to aestheticism that it used its hours in creating beautiful works
-of art and then admiring them. In those early days examples of their
-highest achievement in art were to be found at incredibly low prices.
-For a decade or two after its ports were forced open by the foreigner,
-the country was absorbed in adjusting itself to meet conditions unique
-to its traditions. It was a revolution which had to endure the strain
-of the uncompromising lavishness of war without the excitement of war.
-In such a period “priceless” art objects had their price. Those objects
-of art had been so intimately associated with the calm of the old order
-in its social and religious system that when that order gave ground the
-Japanese disregarded such possessions. It was then that gold lacquer
-boxes were either sold for a sum equal to the mere salvage of the gold
-or else melted in the furnace.
-
-Those first years of readjustment presented the glorious days for
-the foreign collector. Then came reaction. To their own bewilderment
-the Japanese awoke to find that their love for the beautiful had not
-been merely an appendage of the feudal system. They began to compete
-for their own treasures. Prices began to advance to the mystification
-of the foreign buyers. The Japanese aristocrats were entering into
-collecting with that abandon which can exist only through sincere
-contempt for money. Thus it is that very few fine things now come out
-of Japan. Japan is poor, desperately poor, and it would seem that our
-millionaires should easily outbid them, but to a mind commercially
-trained, eventually there enters a consideration of price. To the son
-of the old Japanese nobility there is no such consideration except the
-limit of his purse. I heard the story of a young nobleman who desired
-a certain Korean antique. His wealth was about six hundred thousand
-_yen_. Like the Roman youth who shook dice, hazarding himself to become
-the slave of his opponent should he lose, this young Japanese entered
-the bidding until it was his last _yen_ which bought the antiquity. The
-dilettante does not bid successfully against that spirit.
-
-
-
-
-VIII MANY QUERIES
-
-
-In abrupt change as we neared Shiogiri the people grew more prosperous
-and more smiling. One housewife along the way was busy with a gigantic
-baking in the sun. I have forgotten just what she said the small cakes
-were which she was patting out so expeditiously by the hundred. Her
-hands coquettishly fell into error in her routine when we wished her
-good-day. She had an adventurous spirit behind the work-a-day masque of
-her face. Inordinate questioners as we could generally prove ourselves,
-it was she who took and kept the lead in every kind of interrogation.
-She wanted to know all about the great world over the ridge of
-mountains which stopped her sight. She followed this questioning with
-an exposition of facts which she already knew about foreigners. She
-could be quite sure, she said, that the information which she had
-previously collected through gossip had in no way been adulterated
-by exaggeration. The proof was that we looked exactly as she had
-hitherto imagined foreigners. This comment was more interesting than
-flattering. Her anecdotes about foreigners were fluently parallel to
-the tales about pagans which I used to hear as a child from the cook
-when she returned from her missionary circle.
-
-I asked our hostess if she would let me take her picture. My hesitation
-in asking was an unnecessary contribution to the proceedings. She was
-much pleased. She patted down her hair, rubbed her cheeks with a pale
-blue towel until they were rosy red, and then dusted her hands and arms
-with rice powder. After that she ran into the house to reappear without
-her trousers. Hori told her quickly that foreigners are greatly shocked
-to see women in skirts. We appropriately pretended to be unseeing long
-enough for the hasty redonning of the discarded trousers and then the
-camera clicked.
-
-Foreigners, particularly missionaries, are by no means unknown in the
-quarter of Shiogiri built around the railway station. The town is a
-rather important junction. At the new inn the servants who met us at
-the door told us that they knew just what the foreigner likes. We in
-our obstinacy refused to like what the foreigners who had come before
-us had said that they liked. It was one of the least happy of all our
-rests.
-
-The service in the shiny new inn had lost the spontaneity, the
-not-to-be-imitated bloom of the _yado-ya_ which makes each guest
-believe that he is the most honoured. It had resolved into the
-inevitable mortification which comes from trying to please two masters.
-When they asked whether we wished native dishes or foreign dishes for
-dinner, we kept insisting that we wished Japanese fare, but the inn
-could not shake itself free from compromises and we had a native dinner
-cooked after some imagined foreign style; just as we would have had
-a semblance of a foreign dinner cooked in the native pots if we had
-consented to act our proper parts as _seiyo-jins_. The trouble with
-such in-between places is not so much that they are jerry-built or that
-the ignorance of _why_ is naturally followed by an ignorance of _how_,
-but that something essentially vital has been abstracted; the fire has
-gone, and the result is a listless lassitude.
-
-Across the street was the entrance to another inn, with an electric
-sign at the gate and with two rows of paper lanterns hanging over the
-path. While we were taking a walk and looking in at the shops Hori
-picked up the information from someone that the rival establishment
-to ours was half inn, half _geisha_ house, that the maids, in fact,
-were country _geishas_. Every _geisha_ must have a _geisha’s_ ticket
-from the government to follow her vocation of innocent amusing. All
-_geishas_ are not innocent, but says the government, if they are not
-they must possess another license. Through its varieties and grade of
-licenses the government relies largely upon maintaining order; thus,
-much of the work of the police is devoted to social regulation to
-prevent disorder rather than to the otherwise necessity of curbing it
-after it breaks forth. In any social system, whether the general scheme
-reaches out for the ideal or not, if the cogs fit in smoothly enough to
-work at all, the logical conclusion reads that the better the machine
-runs the more nearly have the everyday, actual wishes of the people
-been satisfied. In Japan the social regulations and the demands of the
-popular moral standard appear to mesh without much friction. This does
-not mean that the social problem has been solved, but it does mean that
-the compromise has measurably been made with eyes open and thus some
-evils have been successfully eliminated.
-
-The _geisha_ tea-houses have their special licenses, and inns have
-special licenses. While many combinations of licenses are possible, it
-is contrary to custom to issue a permit to a _geisha_ house to have
-all the privileges of an inn. Hori thought that there might be licenses
-of that sort issued in the smaller provincial towns such as Shiogiri.
-Whatever the facts were, such a combination license would seem to
-be contrary to the usual intent of the regulations. The government
-proceeds about its business of regulation without much sentiment, but
-it does seek by its very system of labelling to secure to the innocent
-the assurance of travelling through the kingdom without unwittingly
-having to come into contact with vice. The traveller is supposed to be
-able to go to an inn without having to inquire whether it is also a
-questionable tea-house.
-
-It might seem that the easiest way to have found out what was the
-exact status of the inn across the street would have been to have
-walked there and asked. Hori, however, was lukewarm for any such
-investigation. I discovered in this mood of Hori’s cosmos a trait more
-interesting than the entire subject of licenses. The intuition came
-suddenly in a wholeness. This trait might have been called patriotic,
-a patriotism so very broad that in the first inkling it seemed narrow.
-He had a deep desire that we should understand Japanese ideals, and his
-process of thought was that while he believed that to understand Japan
-we must see everything, nevertheless at all times there should be a
-certain normality in the seeing. As he explained, many Japanese customs
-and modes of thought, puzzling at first, are quite comprehensible when
-the entire fabric is examined. He did not wish to have certain squares
-of the embroidery held up to be criticized without the offset of
-properly contrasting squares. Naturally his own impetus often carried
-him a little beyond that normal into looking for the bright and golden
-patches and ignoring the dull ones. I think he was theoretically right,
-but most of us have a childish overconfidence in our maturity and we
-do not wish to have it doubted that we are capable observers even of
-the abnormal. Experience has not trained us to follow, even if we
-wished, an idealized instruction. Thus I am afraid that O-Owre-san and
-I remained recalcitrant observers most of the time and in our own way
-used our philosophical microscopes in grandiose attempt to disintegrate
-the atom and conclude the infinite.
-
-It is true that the most balanced mind can be poisoned by an
-impression. We are sensitized to light and shade. The traveller who
-goes to one of the great capitals of the world and endures as his first
-impression a visit to the dregs of the underworld forever finds the
-darkness of that shadow over his concept of aught else. This comparison
-is indeed putting a superlative exaggeration upon Hori’s not wishing
-to go to the inn-tea-house across the street. Just because I happened
-to glean something of his attitude about our excursion as a whole from
-that particular incident did not mean that he was attaching particular
-importance to it. The subject was dropped and as we were all tired, we
-went to bed, and allowed the double row of paper lanterns to swing on
-in the breeze without our three figures casting shadows on the path
-beneath, and the question that interested me about what sort of a
-license had been issued there was never settled.
-
-The next morning O-Owre-san and I were off at an early hour, leaving
-Hori to follow on the bicycle. The heavy dew had clotted the dust
-and the cobwebs were glistening. It was so cold that we fell into
-our fastest gait, but perversely the town kept creating some new and
-picturesque allurement to slow our stride at almost every pace. Many
-of the most important houses had the dignity of villas. I suppose the
-owners of those houses look upon the town’s activity as a railway
-junction not as a crowning glory but as a deplorable disturbance.
-Before the railroad was dreamed of, Japan’s aristocracy had cherished
-that particular hillside overlooking the view of the valley with the
-snow ridges beyond. The prosperous shopkeeping streets were busy even
-at our early hour; boys and girls were flushing the pavements, fanning
-out the water from wooden dippers; the fathers were taking down the
-shutters; and the mothers were giving indiscriminate directions while
-they rubbed their eyes and pulled their _kimonos_ straight. Many
-greeted us with a cheery “_O-hayo_.”
-
-At the edge of the town a temple gate stood invitingly open and we
-entered the garden and crossed a diminutive bridge to an island. We
-sat down to listen to the birds, admire the butterflies, and watch the
-gold and silver fish bob out of the water. The silent temple, hidden
-in the shadows of the trees, was built after the noble lines of the
-Kyoto tradition and may have been contemporary with that era. We were
-waiting for Hori. We knew that we had several intricate turnings before
-we should come to our mountain road to Kama-Suwa, and we were indulging
-ourselves that morning in unwonted conservatism over the possibility
-of a mistake. We sat for some time waiting to hear the jangling of the
-bicycle bell, but as no such sound came from the distance and as the
-sun had not warmed the air, we decided to take the most attractive
-turns that came, right or wrong. The street that intrigued our fancy
-wound delightfully between large country houses. While there was
-nothing except the trees and a certain pervading atmosphere to suggest
-the English country, nevertheless there was the instinctive feeling
-that within those screened, luxurious houses the sleeping families were
-quality folk, a class never forgetting that their position carries
-responsibilities, duties, and privileges. To meet a panting coolie
-dragging a ’ricksha along an English lane would strike one not only
-as strange but ridiculous. To have seen a gate open that morning in
-the outskirts of Shiogiri and to have had a shining British dogcart
-swing out into the road atop the heels of a cob would have seemed
-neither incongruous nor absurd. That’s the reward the English achieve
-from their devout worship of the correct. In any corner of the globe
-when the beholder finds people getting serious about form, his mind
-immediately institutes a comparison with the British standard.
-
-[Illustration: WE DECIDED TO TAKE THE MOST ATTRACTIVE TURN, RIGHT OR
-WRONG]
-
-We walked on into a maze of hills. In the age of chaos the mountain
-range had tried to turn to the south but, meeting some powerful
-opposition, had been rolled back over on itself. When we came to the
-meeting of a half-dozen crooked paths there was no possible guess for
-our direction. We sat down in the sun for a few minutes, allowing that
-much time to good fortune to send us help, if the god of luck should so
-wish to aid, before attempting anything on our own initiative. We were
-sent two farmers whom we almost lost through their sudden surprise upon
-seeing us spring up out of the bowels of the earth. However, they had
-only been startled, and they did not think we were transformed demons.
-They entered into an energetic discussion of our route, insisting that
-we take the trail which was the faintest of all and which seemingly
-wandered off in the most irresponsible way. It first crossed a
-footbridge over the stream. One of the men dug a map in the dust with
-his toe. We finally parted with bows and protestations of gratitude and
-they stood in the valley and directed us on our climb as long as we
-could see them. Then they waved a final adieu and started on their own
-path.
-
-It was decidedly a short cut they had disclosed. When we were on a
-summit we discovered Hori far below wheeling over the long valley road
-and undoubtedly wondering why he did not overtake us. Probably a
-’ricksha could get through those hills by keeping to the lower paths,
-but neither our generation nor that of our children’s children will
-find those narrow trails made over into motor highways. For generations
-the tramper will have his “unspoiled” Japan. It is true that east to
-west the mountains have been pierced by two lines of railway and the
-foot trails sometimes cross the steel, but now that the railroads have
-been built the trains running through the valleys and plunging into the
-tunnels seem to be as alien to, as outside the lives of the mountain
-folk, and as little considered in their existence as the invisible
-messages hastening along the telegraph wires. Japan has been opened
-to the world and science has brought an infinite change to the Japan
-that we think of, but over those mountain paths long lines of coolies
-stagger with their loads of merchandise as did they in the days before
-wheels were invented. Many of the coolies are women and girls. Over the
-steep miles the backs of the little girls are bent under chests which,
-thrown to the ground, would be large enough for playhouses. I know
-nowhere else in the world where faces do not grow stolid and stupid
-under such strain, but these women and little girls often turn upon
-you faces not only pretty but even strangely beautiful as they raise
-their heads for a quick glance. Their wistful eyes ask unanswerable
-questions. You feel as if they were eternally pondering the _why_.
-
-I do not mean that such glimpses can bring more than a merest intuition
-of a people’s attitude toward life. Such a gossamer web of intuition
-is a personal speculation, but it may be not too presumptuous
-for foreign eyes to make a diagnostic examination of physical
-characteristics and to believe that some truth may be reached from
-accumulated observations. While the Japanese nation is old in history
-and civilization, and while time’s hammer has made the people as
-nearly homogeneous as is synthetically possible, nevertheless their
-predominant physical characteristic is that as a race they are youthful
-in vitality. The coolie bends his shoulders to as heavy a load as
-he can carry, but also does the coolie of Southern India. Existence
-seems to offer not much more in prizes to one than the other beyond
-the promise of the opportunity to labour day after day until death,
-but in the Indian’s face one reads that the draught of unquestioning
-acceptance of fate was drunk by his fathers ages ago. That strong arch
-of the Japanese jaw means _future_. The struggle among nations for
-dictatorship may end in competition’s giving the award to the people
-having the best teeth.
-
-We passed two or three lonely, terraced farms where the earth was being
-coaxed and coddled not to run away, but through most of the hours of
-the climb the mountain sides were a forest reservation serving as a
-reservoir to save the water of the streams for the lower valleys. When
-we came to a spring gushing from the hill we drank, an action which
-is sternly warned against, and probably with absolute justification.
-However, with a four-mile-an-hour pace under the July sun thirst
-becomes positive. We mixed into the clear water, against any lurking
-germs, the antidote of deciding to consider ourselves immune. After a
-time our trail brought us down again into the valley, and it was not
-until then that Hori caught up with us although he had been circling
-around the base of the hills at full speed. He found us locked in a
-bargaining struggle with a gooseberry peddler. The man was carrying his
-produce in a bucket swung at one end of a yoke across his shoulders,
-and his pensive little daughter was balancing the load by sitting in
-the other bucket. Our first advances had unutterably confused his wits,
-beginning with the logical wonderment why two pedestrians miles from
-any town should wish to buy green gooseberries. As the bargaining
-continued his puzzlement was relieved by a sudden lightning suspicion.
-We were not buying gooseberries, we were trying to buy his daughter!
-It seemed so discourteous to rob him of his hard thought out solution
-that I urged O-Owre-san strongly to adopt the child and carry her off
-in his rucksack. It was just then that Hori arrived. He jerked the
-demon bicycle to a stop and vaulted to the ground. At first he was as
-uncomprehending of why we wished to load up with green gooseberries as
-had been the peddler, but that night he fully acknowledged the value of
-our whim when the berries, stewed in sugar, stood before him.
-
-I had taken the camera out of my pack but the man was most suspicious
-of it. We compromised that I should stand up and show just what taking
-a picture was. As soon as I made the demonstration his quick refusal
-against such devil’s work followed. Quite by chance the camera had
-clicked during the demonstration.
-
-April-like showers had been tumbling upon us now and again without
-disturbing the sunshine. We had one more long climb and then found
-ourselves with Lake Suwa far below. The town of Kama-suwa rested on
-the farther shore of the lake in a narrow line of houses. Despite
-the rain flurries the day seemed very clear, but we did not have the
-famous first view of O-Fuji-san which sometimes gloriously greets the
-traveller when he stands, as did we, suddenly on the heights above the
-lake. On those rare days the mountain rises against the blue sky, the
-vista coming through a sharp gap in the granite hills, and casts its
-image on the grey-blue waters. This is the view from the north. The
-conventional view is from the south, but the sacred mountain lessens
-never in beauty as the worshipper circles the paths about its base,
-north, south, east, or west. Like a glorious and beautiful soul, its
-moods change while it changes not.
-
-Is it idolatrous to worship Fuji? Is it pagan to love its beauty, to
-feel one’s spirit freed for a brief moment, forgetful of experience
-tugging at one’s elbow, of caution, of fear, of expediency, of pride?
-
-[Illustration: IS IT IDOLATROUS TO WORSHIP FUJI?]
-
-
-
-
-IX THE INN AT KAMA-SUWA
-
-
-The railway train with its sly befuddling through the luxury of speed
-has picked the traveller’s wallet. Cooped behind a smudged window, how
-can he sense the personality of the town he enters? One should stand in
-isolation on the heights above a city, and then follow down some path
-until within the streets one is absorbed by the throbbing life. (Hobo
-Jack, _ipse dixit_. And is this not true?)
-
-To appreciate Kama-Suwa’s surcharge of culture, prosperity, and
-importance, the reader should think of a small city in Kansas (one of
-those temperate, prosperous, ideal cities of which one has a vividly
-exact idea without the proof or disproof from having visited it). I say
-this, knowing only the standardized impression of those ideal cities,
-but often a common, standardized impression may be more expeditious,
-not to say more valuable, or even more truthful, to communicate a
-comparison than the truth itself. Thus, by such a comparison let
-Kama-Suwa be known.
-
-The Kama-Suwa streets are filled with good citizens; the shops are
-superior, the town has “as fine a school system as you could find
-anywhere”; the temple is “well supported”; and there are not any very
-poor people. Also the town has famous hot springs and famous views. In
-the age when Nature was distributing her gifts she favoured Suwa with
-excessive partiality, in anticipation, perhaps, of the future births of
-to-day’s appreciative, virtuous, honest, and industrious Kama-Suwans.
-
-We had had a good report of a certain inn in the town and, after we
-reached the path around the shore, Hori went ahead on the bicycle
-to prepare the way. The machine’s parts were working together with
-remarkable smoothness that day, perhaps because its superfluous temper
-had been cooled down through its having been left out in a short, hard
-beating rain while we were taking refuge under a tree. We promised
-Hori to hurry, but we did not. The mountains overhanging the lake
-were responsible in the beginning for our forgetting our word, but we
-augmented that beginning by finding some cause for a violent argument,
-one of those tempestuous discussions which gain their heat from the
-insidious conceding of small points. An obstinate, unyielding opponent
-who stays put is a far more satisfactory antagonist. We were well into
-the town before we discovered that we were hemmed in by houses. The
-interruption which opened our eyes was a polite pulling at our sleeves.
-One waylayer, out of the many who had surrounded us, had cast away in
-despair the usual Japanese respect for not touching the person.
-
-Why our entry had created such excess of excitement we could not
-imagine. We had grown _blasé_ in our role of being interesting
-exhibits. One may even grow so accustomed to having an interest taken
-in every detail that a lack of acknowledgment of curiosity seems the
-abnormal. This time mere curiosity did not appear to be the factor.
-Each waylayer was trying to speak. In the confusion I could not catch
-one familiar word. I knew most of the names that are sometimes cried
-at foreigners in the port cities, but there was nothing hostile in the
-present attack. As a sedative I tried to ask the way to the inn but my
-simple question increased the babel. We had no answer that we could
-understand. We had been smiling and bearing the mystery, and there was
-no choice but to continue so doing. Every shopkeeper in the street was
-apparently out now, helping to gesticulate if not to add words. We had
-continued walking and we came to an open space. All the brown hands
-simultaneously pointed in a dramatic sweep across a swampy field. On
-the roof of a large, new building stood Kenjiro Hori. He had changed
-into a _kimono_ which he was modestly trying to hold around him in the
-freshening breeze and at the same time to wave a huge white sheet with
-all the energy of his other wiry arm.
-
-When we reached the door Hori had come down from the roof. He was very
-expeditious in his instructions to the servants and our shoes were off
-and we were in our room before we had a chance to ask a question.
-
-“Now that we’re _settled_----” Hori began with a slight accent on the
-“settled.” He then hesitated.
-
-“Yes?” we inquired.
-
-“Oh, I was just going to ask whether you wouldn’t rather dry your
-clothes and take a bath before we go exploring around the town.”
-
-As O-Owre-san had been answering that question by hanging up his wet
-clothes and getting into a cotton _kimono_, it did not seem to require
-argument.
-
-“Is the bath ready?” he asked.
-
-“It’s always ready--natural hot springs,” Hori answered.
-
-I stacked up some cushions and stretched out in comfort along the
-balcony. I sipped tea and smoked until I was sure O-Owre-san would not
-be returning for something forgotten. I had been suspecting that Hori’s
-nonchalance had clay feet.
-
-“O-Hori-san,” I asked, “what did you say was the name of this inn?”
-
-O-Owre-san was always off to the bath as soon as his feet were inside
-an inn. This time I had marvelled that the habit was so strong that
-he could put off attempting to solve the mystery of our reception,
-especially as Hori’s naïve casualness suggested that he knew the kernel
-of the mystery.
-
-“It’s a new inn. Very good, don’t you think?” Hori answered my question.
-
-“What is the secret?” I demanded. It was evidently very dark and if the
-facts had to be modified in the telling, I thought that perhaps they
-might come forth less modified for me than for O-Owre-san. The other
-inn had been one of our few planned quests. “Why didn’t we go to the
-other inn?”
-
-It may have been most unfair to use such a direct method of
-questioning, especially the distressing, bee-line “hurry-up.” I was
-trading upon my being a foreigner from a land without the tradition of
-the proper ceremony of questions.
-
-Yes, Hori had visited the inn of which we had had the superior report.
-It was a most superior place. He paused. Then he vouchsafed the
-information that it was expensive. That was indeed a serious objection.
-He thought that the bill there might have come to three, four, or even
-five _yen_ a day. That explanation should have been final enough for
-me. It was, in fact. I would have accepted it. I merely happened to ask
-whether he had looked at the rooms.
-
-“Yes,” said he, and then he suddenly threw discretion away. “And what
-do you think? _They had rocking-chairs and American bureaus in the
-rooms._”
-
-Poor Hori! He had been having to listen to us inveigh in American
-exaggeration against the infamous inroads of modernity. I cannot
-imagine that he took our chants of hatred against innovations actually
-at their word value, but he had had much reason to become weary and
-bored from their repetition. He implied that his reason for leaving the
-other inn was for our aesthetic protection, but be it said he was wise
-in his own protection. There is not much doubt that if we had reached
-the presence of those rooms there would have been another merry-to-do
-of wild epithets against machine-made American export furniture
-bespoiling native simplicity for him to listen to. The tourist animal
-is truly a snobbish beast, and natives should occasionally be given
-dispensations for outright murder.
-
-Once I was chatting over tall iced lemon squashes with a Japanese
-physician. In a surge of confidence, and also in burning curiosity, he
-told me about his trip to America. He had learned his English in Japan.
-While visiting a family whom he had known in his homeland, he met one
-of America’s daughters who asked him to call. He was somewhat startled
-by the invitation but he remembered that he was not in the Orient. He
-described the conversation to me in awed phrases.
-
-“She had a box of chocolates. ‘Do you know,’ she said, ‘I am mad about
-chocolates, simply crazy.’
-
-“I thought,” he explained, “that she was confessing to a craving
-appetite and wished my assistance and advice. I imagined, then, that
-I knew the reason of my invitation. I was a physician from a foreign
-land and, as I must soon return to my own country, her secret with
-me would be as good as buried. I explained that I could do nothing
-for her without the full confidence of her father and mother. She
-took this natural suggestion as if it were meant to be humorous. When
-she had stopped laughing she told me that the Japanese are perfect
-dears and horribly cute. Then she asked me if I didn’t love--what was
-it she asked me that I loved? I forget. You see we Japanese have few
-words to express the affections and use those sparingly. And now,” he
-leaned eagerly forward, “I want to ask you whether that young lady was
-charming?”
-
-I tried to evade by asking him what was his idea of charming.
-
-“That’s just what I don’t know. I was told that she was beautiful and
-charming. I could see that she was beautiful. Then I asked people what
-charming meant. They all told me something different.”
-
-“You can’t define charming,” I hazarded. “It’s something different
-from a mere attribute. Foreigners always say that Japanese women are
-charming.”
-
-“Then she wasn’t charming,” he decided judicially.
-
-Several times I have been so rash as to try to explain to men of
-other nations how much an ordinary American conversation should be
-discounted. I fear that they did not accept my formula but held to the
-extremes, either continuing to take us literally or not believing us at
-all.
-
-After Hori had discovered the untoward action of the first inn in
-adding rocking-chairs and bureaus to its equipment, he hurried down the
-street and warned the shopkeepers whom he could find to stop any two
-wandering _seiyo-jins_ and direct their attention to the new inn. They
-must have been impressed that the affair was one of moment.
-
-We heard O-Owre-san, the feared critic of varnished, golden-oak-pine
-bureaus, coming up the stairs. A striped, blue _kimono_ made in
-Japanese standard length somehow does not suggest dignity when worn by
-a more than six-foot foreigner with a beard, but O-Owre-san came so
-solemnly across the mats in his bare feet that his ominous repression
-created its own aura of dignity. Something had happened, but he was not
-inviting questions.
-
-Hori started in turn for his bath. I remained on my cushions. I sat
-and sipped my tea. O-Owre-san sat and sipped his tea. Hori with his
-secret of the rocking-chair inn had not been impregnable to questions.
-O-Owre-san was too dangerously calm. I waited.
-
-He began by alluding to the excellence of the rooms we had. They were
-excellent, the best in the inn, being a part of an extra cupola story
-and giving a splendid view across the lake. Then he restated the known
-fact that the baths were served by natural hot springs. “The water
-comes pouring in through bamboo pipes,” he said.
-
-“Well,” I spoke for the first time, “and then what happened?”
-
-The honourable _seiyo-jin_ drank another cup of tea.
-
-“I got into the wrong bath,” he said.
-
-It was news that there could be any such thing as a wrong bath in a
-Japanese inn.
-
-“You see,” he continued, “the baths for the guests of the inn are
-just under us, but I didn’t notice them when I walked by. When I got
-to the other end of the hall I found a large bath room. Those are
-the public baths, but I didn’t know that then. There were several
-big tubs with the water tumbling in all the time from the pipes.
-There was nobody else there nor a sign of anybody. I made myself at
-home and was floating in one of the tubs when suddenly I heard a
-monstrous chattering out in the hall and then right into the room
-walked twenty girls. Maybe there were twice that many. I don’t know.
-Well, I’ve called upon my practical philosophy to recognize the
-extenuating virtues of--ah--the natural simplicity of the traditional
-exposure of the Japanese bath--so to speak--its insecurity--as it
-were--but--but--h’m--yes--but this was too much.”
-
-I shouted.
-
-He glared.
-
-“I was just thinking----” I tried to say.
-
-“I can see you are just thinking,” he interrupted, “and I know what you
-are thinking. You are thinking what a great story this will be to tell
-when we get home. Believe me, if you ever do----”
-
-“How could you ever imagine such treachery?” I wedged in.
-
-“Well, and then what was I to do?” he demanded. “I couldn’t jump out
-and run and I couldn’t stay in that boiling water until I was cooked.
-I relied upon some instinct of feminine chivalry to give me a chance,
-but----”
-
-I tried to be sympathetically consoling. “A very, very trying
-situation.”
-
-“Huh! They were all stepping in and they just naturally crowded me out.
-Of course they paid absolutely no attention----”
-
-Hori’s step was on the stair. He came in and sat down and poured a cup
-of tea. Then he stretched out on his back and gazed innocently at the
-ceiling. “O-Doctor-san,” he said, “you’ve settled a disputed point in
-Kama-Suwa and everybody’s much obliged.”
-
-“What’s that?”
-
-“Well, there’s been an argument for a long time whether _seiyo-jins_
-are white all over----”
-
-
-
-
-X THE GUEST OF THE OTHER TOWER ROOM
-
-
-Our tower wing of the inn at Kama-Suwa had required no architectural
-ingenuity in its design, but I do not remember ever having seen a
-Japanese building planned in the same way. The walls were open on the
-four sides and there was no _takemono_ corner. The only approach was
-by a flight of stairs which belonged to it exclusively. We thus had an
-isolation most unusual. It mattered not the length and breadth of the
-space given us, our few possessions were always scattered over all the
-space available.
-
-We heard steps on the stair and our hostess and a maid came up to us
-and bowed many times and brought many apologies. Half our space was to
-be taken away. This was only following the very equitable custom that
-a guest may have all of the extension of his floor until some other
-traveller must be accommodated, and then, presto! there are two rooms
-where one was before.
-
-In a few minutes a double row of screens had been pushed along the
-grooved slides in the floor from the head of the stairs, creating two
-complete rooms with a hallway between. The new guest, a woman, stood
-waiting to take possession. From the quality of her _kimono_, the
-refinement of her face, and the arrangement of her hair, we could judge
-that she was of superior rank. We questioned with some wonder why she
-was alone, but as it was extremely unlikely that that question or any
-other about her would be answered, the passing query was dismissed.
-However, it came about that we were to know one poignant chapter in
-that woman’s life.
-
-We went exploring to find the kitchen, there to deliver our
-gooseberries and our recipe. The maids and cooks stood and listened.
-We proceeded with our explanation until we reached the point where
-one more suppressed giggle on the part of the _ne-sans_ might
-have burst forth into full hysterics. We released them in time by
-laughing ourselves and then left them to recover as best they could
-and to experiment with the stewing. Their irresponsible laughing
-for laughter’s sake had infected us with the mood. We went filing
-back to our room. The guest of the second tower room was standing
-on the balcony at the head of the stairs. She had changed from her
-street _kimono_. Her eyes were shaded by her hand and she was looking
-searchingly down the road. As we walked by she stepped a little farther
-out on the narrow balcony but did not take her eyes from her quest.
-
-The maid brought our dinner. It had been fourteen hours since breakfast
-and we had been tramping mountain paths, but without the sauce of
-appetite that dinner could have justified its existence. There were
-fish fresh from the mountain waters of the lake, and there were grilled
-eels, and there were strange vegetables with strange sauces. When the
-rice came we poured our stewed gooseberry juice over the bowl. The
-maid had left the screen pushed back when she carried off the tables
-downstairs. At that moment of our contentment I looked up to see the
-lonely watcher step back from the balcony. Her expression had changed
-to joyful expectancy and radiant relief and trust. She went to her
-room, then returned to the balcony, then ran again to her room. In
-a moment or two the round, sleepy maid stumbled up the stairs and
-whispered a message. The message again brought the woman to the head of
-the stairs and in a moment we could hear a man’s step coming.
-
-The greeting of affection in Japan is not a meeting of the lips.
-Whatever the proper cherishing expression may be, it cannot be such a
-casual acknowledgment as was that man’s indifferent greeting in the inn
-at Kama-Suwa. A glance showed that he belonged to that new type which
-modern Japan has produced, the mobile, keen, aggressive, calculating,
-successful man of business and affairs. He was about thirty-five. Men
-of this new stamp are seldom met with in the provinces where the old
-order has changed so little but in Tokyo and the port cities their
-ideas are the predominant influence. Their aggression and ability have
-taken over the business and industries which the foreigner established.
-When one thinks of Old Japan one can believe that the thought action of
-this type of man by the very virtue of his being understood by us is
-enigma to those who still seek their inspiration in the ideals of the
-order that was.
-
-“Well, I am here,” he said. “You sent for me and I came.”
-
-The woman stood, making no answer.
-
-“What’s it all about?” he went on. “Your message was very mysterious.
-It cannot be that you have been so foolish--so unthinking--as
-absolutely to make a break with your husband?”
-
-“You are tired from your trip,” she said. “Come! Sit down! Your dinner
-is waiting to be brought.”
-
-He sat down and the woman clapped her hands for the maid. When the
-stumbling, awkward girl came the man changed the order and told the
-_ne-san_ to bring _sake_ first of all. He sat in silence until the
-hot rice wine came. He drank several of the small cups. Then the maid
-brought the lacquer tables with the dinner dishes. The man lifted up
-one or two covers and then suddenly jumped to his feet and declared
-that he was going to take a bath.
-
-The maid led the way to the large room for baths which was just under
-our rooms. The woman sat before her untasted dinner. Soon there was a
-sound of laughing and chattering from below. There was the man’s voice
-and the maid’s laugh. Finally the woman arose, walked out into the
-hall, tentatively put a foot on the stair, then slowly walked down. She
-waited outside the sliding paper door. The maid had committed no breach
-against custom in lingering idly after carrying in towels and brushes.
-It was for no personal bitterness against the stupid maid that tears
-had gathered in the woman’s eyes. There was nothing vulgar in the words
-of the bantering chatter she heard. It was the fact that the man was
-accepting the moment so carelessly, so unfeelingly for her anguish,
-knowing as he must unquestionably that every word of his indifferent
-greeting to her had carried a torturing thrust of pain.
-
-The dinner was brought up again, warmed over. We heard the order for
-another bottle of _sake_. We could not escape hearing through the
-paper wall. We had intended taking a walk but a misty rain had come
-down. The mosquitoes arose from the beaches of the lake. We sent for
-the maid and asked for the beds and mosquito netting. In the meantime
-Hori and I were tempted into taking another luxurious sinking into the
-hot baths. O-Owre-san had turned out the light before we came back.
-In the darkness we crawled carefully under the omnibus netting and I
-went to sleep immediately. I awoke in about an hour. The misty rain had
-been blown away and the moon was shining so clearly that when I turned
-over I could see that Hori’s eyes were wide open. I heard the maid,
-stumbling as always, come up the stairs with another bottle of _sake_.
-I asked Hori whether he had been asleep. He said that he had not, that
-after the woman had begun talking she had not stopped. I could hear her
-low, ceaseless tones. The man was smoking one pipe after another. He
-would knock out the ash against the brazier--four staccato raps--then
-there would be a pause for the three or four puffs from the refilled
-pipe, and then the staccato raps again.
-
-“If we are ever going to get to sleep,” said Hori, “we’ll have to
-complain to the mistress. Guests haven’t any right to keep other guests
-awake.”
-
-“Why wouldn’t it be better to make some such suggestion to them without
-calling in the mistress?” I asked.
-
-Hori shook his head. That was not the way. However, we delayed sending
-for the inn mistress. Hori translated some of the conversation that he
-had heard before I woke up. The woman had that morning left her home
-and her husband. She had sent a message to the man now in the room with
-her, but her news had evidently been one of his least desired wishes.
-Before he sank into the silence of tobacco and _sake_ he had said his
-disapproval.
-
-“I thought you had more sense than to do anything so absurd, so almost
-final. Don’t you see that it will be almost impossible for you to go
-back now? How will you make any explanation that he can accept?”
-
-“But,” she interrupted, “I came to you as you have so often said that
-you wished I could. That was the only way I could be even a little bit
-fair to him--to leave his house.”
-
-“Everything was all right as it was.”
-
-“No! No! I could not live that way.”
-
-“I can’t see why. I don’t see it. Now you’ve pretty nearly ruined both
-of us. However, we’ve got to think of some way for you to go back.”
-
-“But I can’t. I’ve lost the possibility of that. If I had not thought
-you wished me, I might not have come to you, but I could not stay
-there.”
-
-“That’s foolishness. Anyhow, you can go to your own family, and when he
-finds that is where you are, he’ll want you to come back.”
-
-Her mind was dully grasping that here, with this man, she had no
-refuge, but her heart would not believe.
-
-“I wished to make it complete,” she repeated. “I wanted to give up
-everything for you.”
-
-What folly, what sheer childish folly, he told her, that she had
-listened seriously to his idle, passing phrases. Why, always, she must
-have known that he was merely answering her vanity. Any woman should
-have known and accepted that.
-
-The ceaseless words and the staccato rapping of the pipe continued. We
-dismissed from our minds any intention of sending for the mistress,
-but not from prying curiosity. Our sleeping, or our not sleeping,
-was not of importance. In merciful pity (at least as we thought) for
-the woman, we knew that that contest must be settled as it was being
-settled. “But,” Hori whispered, “it would be a mighty big satisfaction
-to mix in a little physical argument.”
-
-“No one at this inn knows who I am,” the man continued. “No one has any
-idea that you have more than the slightest acquaintanceship with me. No
-one would ever be convinced that you ran away to meet me.”
-
-She ceased the argument that she had come to him in willing sacrifice
-of all else--the supreme gift of her love for him. She began to plead.
-He did not answer. His pipe struck against the brazier and now and
-again the maid brought _sake_. Once she began to weep hysterically but
-this surrender to her agony was only for a short moment.
-
-It was now almost morning. The rapping of the pipe stopped. The man got
-to his feet somewhat noisily. Passionately and despairingly the woman
-begged him not to leave her. Then as suddenly she ceased all words
-and said nothing as he made his preparations for going, nor did she
-call after him when he left her. Her unbeating breast imprisoned her
-breath through one last moment of hope. The spark of faith died but the
-torture of life remained, and her breath was released in a long, low
-moan. Until morning broke she sobbed, lying there on the floor.
-
-She had not pushed back the wall panel which the man had left open.
-When we went below to our baths she drew in her outstretched arm which
-still reached gropingly into the narrow passageway. She dressed before
-we returned. We met her on the stairs. She started to cover her face
-with her _kimono_ sleeve, and then, listlessly, dropped her arm.
-
-“Where will she go?” I asked Hori.
-
-Hori did not know. In the old régime, he explained, when a woman of
-the aristocracy left her husband she went to her family, but it had
-been only under extreme duress that a woman would leave her husband.
-There is much talk to-day in Japan that the social institutions are
-crumbling. One is told that the “new woman” movement is a result of the
-crumbling of the old order; and again one is told that the crumbling
-has come from the new woman movement. These latter critics say that so
-many women are leaving their homes that if any proper discipline is to
-be retained and maintained, the tradition that a woman’s own family may
-receive her into their house must be uncompromisingly discouraged as a
-declaration of warning to others.
-
-Hori, himself, now that the tragedy had ceased to be so present, was
-somewhat inclined to look upon the history of the night in its relation
-to collective society rather than as the drama of two individuals.
-A Japanese instinctively regards a family as a family, and not as a
-collection of units. Loyalty is the basic idea of that philosophy and
-not the importance of the individual soul.
-
-“There is one thing quite sure,” he added, “she was obviously from
-a sheltered home and Japanese ladies know precious little about the
-realities of the outside world. I don’t believe you could understand.
-Why, they don’t even go shopping like American women. The shopkeepers
-bring everything to them. If she hasn’t some place to go--well, you can
-guess what will happen to her. She could never earn her own living any
-more than a baby.”
-
-“It may end with suicide,” I suggested.
-
-Hori doubted that. Suicide is an escape often appealed to in Japan, but
-he thought that if her temperament had been impulsively capable of
-seeking such release, she would have made the attempt immediately.
-
-“But,” I objected, “isn’t your other alternative impossible? Isn’t
-there a rigid law that no woman of the _samurai_ class can enter the
-_yoshiwara_?”
-
-“Oh, yes,” said he, “but an agent can easily arrange to have her
-adopted into some family of a lower order and then she loses her rank
-and its protection.”
-
-O-Owre-san came up from his bath and asked us what we were talking
-about. He had slept through the night.
-
-
-
-
-XI ANTIQUES, TEMPLES, AND TEACHING CHARM
-
-
-For many days we had been passing through villages which yielded
-no good hunting among the antique and second-hand shops. It should
-be known that the lure of the curio carries poison. Two friends
-who have lived blithely in affection, confident that no brutal nor
-subtle assault could ever avail against the harmony of their intimate
-understanding, perchance step through the doorway of a shop. Presto! A
-candlestick, a vase, a box, a tumbledown chair, whatever it may be--the
-desire for the thing magically energizes perception. We suddenly and
-clearly perceive that the one-time friend at our side is hung with
-many false tinkling cymbals. We never break the rules of the game; it
-is the friend who always errs. Thus I was always learning O-Owre-san’s
-abysmal depths, while he was encountering my superlative virtues of
-unselfishness. However, as his chief fiendishness was for cloisonné and
-my interest was in carved iron and bronzes and old Kyoto ware, we were
-spared from too many overdoses of poison.
-
-The little shops of Kama-Suwa really had curios. There were strange,
-imaginative odds and ends which had been made to please the whims
-of the eccentrics of a vanished and now almost un-understandable
-age. Of such whimsicality were the costumes and the heap of personal
-adornments which we discovered that had once been fashioned for a
-famous wrestler of Kama-Suwa. Even his sandals were there. He must
-have been a giant, truly, if his feet filled those _geta_. Everything
-for the hero had been made in faithful exaggeration to many times the
-size of the conventional. His leather tobacco pouch was as big as our
-rucksacks. Every detail of the decorations of the pouch, such as the
-_netsuke_, was increased to correct proportion. In the stockings for
-his feet the threads were as thick as whipcord. The grain of the shark
-skin binding the handle of his sword had come from some fish of the
-Brobdingnag world. When fully equipped, that famous man--they spoke of
-him reverently--must have given the effect that he had been blown into
-expansion by some marvellous pump.
-
-After we had shaken a dozen or so curio shops through our sieve we
-wandered off into the rain seeking the village temple in the hills. By
-festivals and gorgeous pageants the people around the shore of Suwa
-still celebrate their faith and belief that its towns were built by the
-gods in the beginning of time. The upkeep of the temples, I suppose,
-must now come from the worshippers or the state as there are no longer
-lavish feudal patrons with immense incomes of rice. Nevertheless these
-temples do not seem to suffer poverty.
-
-We easily found the path. A spring bursts from the rock of the
-precipitous hill back of the temple garden and its waters keep green
-the shrubs and grasses and the bamboo, and cherish the flowers. Perhaps
-the garden has achieved its perfection by minute alterations through
-hundreds of years, but its appeal bespeaks the original conception of
-its first master artist, who, by creating a subtle absence of formal
-arrangement, offered the supreme compliment to the beholder to carry
-on through his own creative imagination that approach to the ideal
-perfection which can never be reached.
-
-After a time the rain, which had begun falling in torrents, drove us
-back from the dream garden to the shelter of the overhanging temple
-roof. A sliding door opened behind us and we turned around to see
-an old woman kneeling on the matting. She bowed low and then arose
-to disappear and to return again with tea and rice cakes and fruit.
-She placed the dishes on a low, black lacquer table. We untied our
-muddy shoes and moved in onto the mats. The rain fell in dull, droning
-monotony on the tiles of the roof far above our heads; back in the deep
-shadows our eyes could see the gleaming of the reddish gold edges of
-the lacquered idols. Every suggestion was hypnotic of sleep and I had
-been awake almost all the night before. I grew so sleepy that even the
-touch of the cup in my hand had the feeling of unreal reality. Between
-the raising of the cup to my lips and the putting of it down I actually
-plunged for an instant into sleep, then came to consciousness with a
-start. I looked at Hori. His eyes were blinking waveringly and with
-much uncertainty. Were there ever such guests of a temple? I vaguely
-remember that our hostess put a cushion under my head, and then came a
-rhythmic coolness from her fan over my face. I would have slept on the
-rack.
-
-We slept until we awoke to find the sun shining. Our hostess, with
-immobile, gentle face, was still fanning us. We were abjectly,
-guiltily remorseful. We sat up and she brought fresh tea. We appealed
-in a roundabout way for forgiveness by praising the teacups and the
-teapot. They were very fine. She explained that they had been the gift
-of some _daimyo_, she thought. Whoever he was, he had made many rich
-gifts to the temple. She pushed back panels and brought out bowls and
-vases, and told us romantic legends. The legends were colourful rather
-than of plot. I knew then that I could never remember more than their
-impression. The old woman’s own personality had drifted into limbo and
-she had absorbed in its place a reflection of those dark, mysterious
-temple rooms. She held out robes and porcelains before us and then
-carried them away quickly. She led us through the shadows, stopping to
-light incense at the feet of the Buddhas with the reverence that such
-acts were her life and not her task.
-
-We said good-bye and walked away, following along the crest of the
-hill. The temple roof disappeared behind the treetops and we were
-again in the modern world, for at that instant across the valley we
-saw a huge, nondescript, barracks-like building. It had been erected
-in the worship of efficiency, and was more completely mere walls of
-windows with a roof above than even an American factory. As we stood
-watching, a man paced out of the gate and behind him stepped a girl,
-and then another girl, and another, until it was a long procession. The
-line pursued a twisting way, sometimes in measured steps, sometimes in
-undulating running. At last the line formed a serpentine coil in an
-open space.
-
-The building was the high school for girls and the man leading the
-line was the physical instructor. The pupils wore the distinguishing
-universal reddish-purple skirt of the high schools which are bound
-over the _kimonos_. These skirts look heavy and uncomfortable. They
-must have been designed by some minister of education in those days of
-translation when the demand for modern ideas included always that they
-must be served raw. It was believed with loyalty and devotion that the
-principle at the base of the secret of foreign success was the axiom
-that nothing useful can be ornamental.
-
-The physical instructor was inhumanly military and dignified--and so
-overwhelmingly efficient in his instruction that it was annoying to
-see such perfection. Secretly perhaps, but always, the male animal
-instinctively protests and resists that women should unite into
-solidarity to do things. To his roots he begs that if they do so do,
-they shall not achieve success in the essay. Man has always run in
-packs, but woman has been the eternal individual. Our wrath was against
-the traitor in sleeveless gymnasium shirt and tight foreign trousers
-who was teaching so systematically and effectively to that line of
-girls the secret of team work. By the sorrow of his eyes it could be
-seen he acknowledged to himself his infamy to his sex, but his loyalty
-to his Emperor was that he must conduct that exercise drill and conduct
-it professionally.
-
-Hori suggested that we visit the school, insisting that such a visit
-would be considered a great compliment. It seemed to us more like an
-impertinence of vagrants, but Hori continued firm that it was our duty
-as itinerant foreigners to interrupt the machinery. He took a couple of
-our visiting cards, mere innocent slips of pasteboard, and proceeded
-with his fountain pen to make them pretentiously formidable. He raked
-up all the detritus of our past lives. We did have sufficiency of
-conventional shame to cough apologetically when Hori read aloud the
-outrageous qualifications of our scholarship and degrees which he had
-added after our names. We learned that it is a mistake to believe that
-there can be no utilitarian value in a college degree: letters after
-one’s name are seeds ready to burst into useful bloom under an exotic
-sun, and the flowering may be a pass into a provincial high school for
-Japanese maidens.
-
-A servant took those remarkable cards from Hori’s hand and walked off
-down the long corridor. The result was that a smiling diplomat came to
-us empowered to minister to our entertainment and instruction. We were
-honoured as the first courtesy by _not_ being allowed to remove our
-heavy walking shoes. Every step that I took on those shining, spotless
-floors made me feel as if I were perpetrating a clownish indecency. The
-remorse that follows one’s own wilfulness can never be so keen as the
-agony when sheer fate ordains unavoidable vulgarity. Still, in leaving
-heel marks in the polished wood, there was the saving humour of the
-idea that our hosts thought they were honouring us by encouraging our
-foreign barbarity.
-
-There were unending rooms of maids in purple skirts. They were studying
-every sort of subject from the abstract to the practical, and from
-the aesthetic to the ethical. There were girls with the refinement
-of profile which one seeks and finds in the ideal drawings by the
-great Japanese artists; and there were those other faces, the round,
-good-natured O-Martha-sans. We looked over their shoulders at their
-paintings of flowers, at their embroidery, at their arithmetic sums,
-their maps, and their English composition. The Japanese say, “Perhaps
-rich nations can afford to economize in education and to exploit
-ignorance, but we, being very poor, must be practical. We cannot take
-such risk of ignorance.”
-
-A modicum of truth lies in the statement that the Japanese have taken
-up education as a new religion. (And some of the bumptious youthful
-devotees in Tokyo impress one that it was a mistaken bargain to have
-allowed them to exchange pocket shrines for text-books.) Theories of
-education have many splits everywhere in the world and the Japanese
-fervour has not escaped having to face the necessity of certain
-decisions. One difference of opinion, which might almost be called
-theological, rests in the question whether the youth should be educated
-to think according to conviction or to think according to conformity;
-to think or to be taught what to think. A Japanese told us that the
-government must risk its last penny to-day to guarantee the future,
-that the people are being educated to understand national policies in
-the faith that understanding will breed willing cooperation and willing
-self-sacrifice. When I asked him which he meant, whether students
-were being taught to understand the policies of the state or whether
-they were being taught to believe in them, I rather thought that he
-considered my question argumentative and perhaps unfriendly. However,
-without his having answered the question, it is obvious that Japan is
-trusting its fate to the system of educating toward solidarity, the
-impulse to think alike.
-
-After our noisy boots had been in and out of many rooms we were taken
-to meet the head of the school. He was not in his administration
-room, but he entered in a few minutes. After the formal introduction
-he clapped his hands for tea. His appearance and his dignity were of
-ancient Japan. His thin divided moustache fell in long pencil-like
-strands from the corners of his lip, as do those of the sages in the
-ancient Chinese paintings. His _kimono_ was silk. We smoked and drank
-tea and talked abstractedly about education. It was a girls’ school but
-he talked of boys. We strayed from Montessori methods to industrial
-training. After he had used some such phrases as “a sound education,”
-O-Owre-san asked how many years of a boy’s life he considered should be
-given over to his schooling. His eyes had been of passive light. They
-now gleamed like those of a warrior.
-
-“Until he has been taught loyalty to his Emperor!”
-
-It perhaps may be a debatable question for the other nations of the
-world, that question of Socrates whether virtue can be taught, but the
-headmaster of the high school in Kama-Suwa declared that in Japan a
-teacher is not a teacher unless he can teach loyalty. The boys must
-be taught loyalty; the daughters of the Empire must be taught grace.
-(And by grace I think he meant also charm.) To exemplify, we were led
-to the “flower-arranging room.” The Japanese arranging of flowers is
-a ceremony and there is commingled in it both the suggestion of the
-actual in life and the ideal of the perfect. The room which we were
-shown was an attempt to achieve the supreme inheritance of Japanese
-art in architecture and decoration--rhythm, harmony, and simplicity.
-Something of the spirit of didacticism must ever hang over a room
-so built but, in the room that we were shown, charm and beauty had
-surprisingly survived the inevitable refrigeration of being labelled
-“classic.”
-
-[Illustration: THE BOYS MUST BE TAUGHT LOYALTY; THE DAUGHTERS OF THE
-EMPIRE MUST BE TAUGHT GRACE.]
-
-
-
-
-XII TSURO-MATSU AND HISU-MATSU
-
-
-In the same town of Kama-Suwa where the barracks-like high school
-for girls spreads its wings there also rises the tiled roof of a
-_geisha_ house. Under its protection other daughters of the Empire
-are also being rigorously trained to duties--the life of amusing and
-entertaining. The position of the _geisha_ cannot be illuminated by
-comparisons. There are the “sing-song girls” of Peking and the nautch
-dancers of India, and there were in the days of the fruition of Greek
-civilization the sisters of Aspasia; the life of the _geisha_ might
-be considered to be somewhat parallel to their lives in so far as it
-is a response to the demand of highly civilized man for the romance
-of idealized anarchy; the inhibitions of custom, or dogma, having
-precluded the expression of inborn romantic desire in his conventional
-life. Men whose minds have realized some measure of freedom through
-imagination and culture instinctively seek idealistic companionship
-with women. When realization is compressed by such custom as marriage
-by family arrangement this desire finds expression in some direction
-where there is at least the illusion of freedom. Human nature is like
-the human body, if pressure is applied in one spot, unless there is
-some equitable, compensating bulge elsewhere, the compression is
-likely to be vitally destructive. If the highest ideality has as its
-cornerstone responsibility, then when marriage is an institution by
-arrangement and the sense of responsibility is not created through the
-freedom of choice, feminine companionship and charm will inevitably
-be sought in the romance of some more voluntary arrangement. Who will
-absolutely deny that when the endeavour to save poetical yearning
-from defeat is such companionship as the almost classical ceremony
-of watching the white fingers of a _geisha_ pour tea into a shell
-of porcelain, a sort of mutual sense of responsibility to save the
-fineness of life may enter into the relationship as a redeeming grace
-against the professionalism of the _geisha’s_ life?
-
-We turned from the street into the gate of the principal tea-house.
-There was a clapping of hands by the first servant who heard our
-steps on the gravel path and in a moment the mistress and all the
-men-servants and maid-servants were at the door to greet us. It was
-at an hour in the afternoon when the tea-house did not expect guests.
-We took off our shoes and were led to the floor above. There were
-four or five rooms but they soon became one, the maids removing the
-sliding screen panels, and we were given the luxury of unpartitioned
-possession. One side, entirely without wall, overhung the garden.
-
-The maids brought cold water and tea and sherbets and iced beer and
-fruits and cakes, and there were dishes on the table of which we did
-not even lift the covers. Then they knelt and awaited our orders
-whether they should send for _geishas_. They explained that at that
-hour there might be the rude annoyance to our honourable patience of
-having to endure an unavoidable delay. It would not be likely that the
-_geishas_ could come immediately. We told them that our honourable
-patience would suffer the delay.
-
-When the French builders and decorators tried to attain the ultimate
-for the housing of royalty in the age of the Grand Monarch, their
-success approached close to the realization of what the imagination
-of the period asked. Versailles was built with the idea of reaching
-theoretical perfection through the completion of detail. The
-imagination of the beholder was supposed to find complete satisfaction
-in what he saw and not to feel the urge of the possibility of still
-higher flights. If the beholder was not content with this “perfection,”
-he was indeed in a plight, for there was no next step except to begin
-all over again. The rhythm of the art of the Japanese tea-house is not
-dependent upon regularity nor balance. Its perfection can never be
-completed. The last word cannot be spoken. It is like life.
-
-We walked over the soft mats examining the work of the craftsman
-builder who had made his material yield its beauty through the grain
-and line of each plank, board, beam, pillar, and panel. I moved a
-cushion to the balcony and sat down to study the room in deeper
-perspective. I never followed out this sedate contemplation, for
-instead I happened to look over the balcony. Across the court of the
-garden I saw into an open room of a wing. Three little girls, from
-about five to seven years of age, were being trained in the arts of the
-_geisha_. At that moment their instruction was in the dance.
-
-The work was being gone through seriously but the teachers were
-sympathetic and encouraging. A dancing master assumed the general
-superintendence: several older girls, full-fledged _geishas_, sat
-offering suggestions from their experience. They were in simple,
-everyday dress and not in _geisha_ costume. The novitiates sometimes
-begin their training even younger than five years. Quite often such
-children are orphans who come into the profession by legal adoption;
-others are the children of parents who have apprenticed their daughters
-under an arrangement which virtually amounts to a sale. Naturally the
-_geisha_ master does not select children who do not possess the promise
-of grace, beauty, and charm. The long training is expensive and it is
-intended that there shall be a return on the investment. The little
-girls, whom we could see, were practising over and over again the
-steps of some classical dance to the music of a _samisen_. From the
-expression of their faces to the position of their fingers in carrying
-their fans, every possibility of technic which should enter into the
-dance was receiving the minutest attention.
-
-For many years, Hori whispered, the training of those little girls
-must go on to one end--to interest, to entertain, and to amuse men.
-They will be taught to wear the gorgeous silks and embroideries of the
-_geisha_; they will be taught that every movement of the hand and arm
-in pouring tea or passing the cup should be an art; they will be taught
-when they should smile, when they should laugh, and when they should
-sympathize; they will be taught how to converse, how to repeat the
-classical tales and the tales of folklore and how deftly to introduce
-merry stories of the day. After all this training the graduation comes
-when they enter actively into the life of the _geisha_. In this budding
-a girl may amuse partly by the mere gossamer fragility of her youth,
-but later maturity brings the capital of acquired experience, not only
-in the art of entertaining but through having learned that the charm
-of woman is largely the solace that she can bring through sympathy and
-understanding.
-
-What is the end? It may be better or worse, tragic or domestic,
-marriage, shame, servitude, modest anonymity, or the retirement to the
-teaching of her art to another generation. Her life is one obviously
-wherein the path has many by-ways to temptation. There is much that
-must be insincere and tinsel. If many a little heart, sweet, modest,
-and unhardened, is crushed, nevertheless if there be forgiving gods
-among those to whom she prays, surely those gods must know that these
-Mary Magdalenes are (so a poet of the _yoshiwara_ wrote) in the greater
-truth as the flowers of the lotus. Though their feet have touched the
-black mud of the stagnant pond, “the heart of the _geisha_ is the
-flower of the lotus.”
-
-We heard a footstep at the door and turned to see a _geisha_ standing
-there. She was tall and slender. The delicate paleness of her face
-was even whiter through fear. She saw us, barbarians, sitting in the
-refinement of the tea-house room. The carmine spots on her lips shone
-brightly, giving to her expression the unreality of the frightened
-look a doll might have if suddenly brought to life. She was carrying a
-_samisen_. Her fingers tightly clutched the wrappings. She came across
-the room toward us and as her knees bent against the skirt of her
-_kimono_ I could see that they were trembling. She sat down and tried
-to smile. The duty of a _geisha_ is to smile. She smiled with the same
-last effort of loyalty which carries the soldier into a hopeless charge.
-
-I felt an abysmal brute to be there. Absurd perhaps, but it was as
-if the command of some strange, scornful, hitherto unheeded, almost
-unknown spirit of justice was calling me to name some defence why man
-in his arrogance has assumed the right to pluck the beauty of the
-flowers and has assumed the justification that the reason for the
-perfume and the beauty is that they were created for him. It was a
-strange beginning for the gaiety of a _geisha_ luncheon.
-
-Tsuro-matsu drew back the fold of her sleeve to her elbow and raised
-the teapot. The spout trembled against the rim of the cup which she
-was filling. She handed the cup to Hori and until that moment I do not
-believe that she had noticed that he was a Japanese.
-
-“The child is frightened to death,” said O-Owre-san. “Say something,
-Hori, quick! If she wants to go home----”
-
-Tsuro-matsu had read the meaning of the words from their tone before
-Hori tried to translate. She smiled and this time her lips parted from
-her pretty teeth spontaneously. Then she said that Hisu-matsu, a second
-_geisha_, would soon come. When the messenger had arrived for them they
-had first to send for their hair dresser. The messenger had told them
-that the guests at the tea-house were foreigners. Thus her frightened
-anticipation had had its beginning before she had entered the room. We
-asked what had been her fears.
-
-Tsuro-matsu did not wish to say. She had once before seen foreigners
-but only from her balcony. We still persisted in our question. When she
-realized that the truth would please us more than compliments, even
-if the telling somewhat offended against the etiquette of hospitality,
-she ventured slowly to repeat some of the tales which had been passed
-along by imaginative tongues until they had eventually reached the
-_geisha_ house of Kama-Suwa. We sat waiting to hear some legend truly
-scandalous, but there was nothing of such atrocity. She had not
-heard of Buddhist children being stolen for sacrifice on Christian
-altars. Our barbarities of the Western world that worried the _geisha_
-sensibility were departures not from mercy but from manners. We were
-wild and rough and of much noise, always in a hurry, and knowing
-nothing of the refinements, such as tea drinking, and we were always to
-be discovered dropping rice grains from our chopsticks onto the floor.
-And, as a conclusion, the foreigner, such was her information, had no
-appreciation for gentle conversation, nor for any of the arts of social
-intercourse of which the _geisha_, in her vocation, is the guardian
-priestess.
-
-Of all the intricacies of thought in modern Japan, the most interesting
-is the side-by-side existence (without its possession seemingly
-arousing any astonishment in the mind of the possessors) of two
-completely different conceptions of the foreigner. A Japanese
-may sometimes sincerely render honour to a foreigner for superior
-attainments and yet sustain the old feudal idea that the foreigner
-must be a barbarian even in those very attainments. It is quite
-possible when the frightened Tsuro-matsu left the _geisha_ house in her
-’ricksha that she not only felt that she was going to an ordeal where
-she would suffer from the crudities of the _inferior_ foreigner, but
-that she was being singled out for the distinct honour of entertaining
-the _superior_ foreigner. In one way, for the common people, this
-paradox may be partially explained by the fact that their leaders
-order them to honour the foreigner for his practical achievements, and
-in their unhesitating loyalty they do as they are told. It is much
-easier to accept such authority than to puzzle out how the knowledge
-and experience of their worshipped ancestors could have been of such
-superior brand and yet been of such ignorance.
-
-Tsuro-matsu was telling us something of her fears when Hisu-matsu
-entered. Upon what scene she had expected to come, I have no imagining,
-but her surprise at the state of intimate peace which did reign proved
-that she had been thinking of a different probability. Her surprise
-dissipated her timidity, and she began to laugh at Tsuro-matsu’s
-earnestness. Hisu-matsu was somewhat older. Her _geisha_ dress was
-perhaps richer; quite likely her skill in conversation and in playing
-the _samisen_ was superior--but she was not so exquisitely fragile in
-her beauty.
-
-Japan is the court of Haroun al-Raschid in the love of hearing stories.
-Always we were being asked for stories, stories of romance, love, and
-adventure, “such as you tell at home when sitting on the mats drinking
-tea.” Perhaps the elevation to chairs has subtly sapped away from us
-the art of tale spinning beyond the briefest of anecdotes and jokes.
-There was no more of a response in us when Tsuro-matsu asked us to
-tell a story than there had been when Hori had asked us to extemporize
-poetry in the valley of the Kiso. We scored a failure as always but a
-moment later chance gave us a second opportunity for the vindication of
-Occidental accomplishments.
-
-O-Owre-san had picked up a _samisen_ and was searching for some
-harmonies in the long strings. In the mystery of the night, coming out
-of the darkness, the music of Japan has a certain functioning charm
-harmonizing with the rhythm of the wings of insects beating their way
-through the shadows; but to hear the love song of a strident cicada
-coming from the white throat and red lips of a _geisha_--at least that
-is not our melody of passion. It was Hisu-matsu this time who made
-the request. She asked O-Owre-san to sing a song, “as you sing songs
-in America.” This was the chance to redeem our failure. The hills of
-Norway gave O-Owre-san a birth-gift of melody. His whistling is like a
-bird call, clear and true. Hori and I insisted that he must whistle. It
-was the air of a folksong that he remembered. It had the Viking cry of
-the Norse wind and the lust of storm and battle. The two girls tried to
-listen.
-
-“Change to Pagliacci,” I whispered. The music of the North had failed.
-I was in duress to save our faces.
-
-Again they tried to listen. Then they looked at each other in
-astonishment and in each pair of eyes there was annoyance. They began
-talking to each other in disregard of Pagliacci and everything Italian.
-It was an obvious disregard. At first they had thought that he might
-be practising, but when he continued the distressing sounds, then they
-were sure that we were making fun of their request. They were trying
-to save their own faces. They had begun talking to prove that they
-could not so easily be taken in. Hori had the brilliancy to retreat.
-He hastened to ask them to sing and play again. By sitting raptly
-while the strings of the _samisen_ were rasped by the sharp ivory pick
-and their voices followed in accompaniment, we were able in a measure
-to atone for the barbarity of our own music by showing that we could
-listen appreciatively to good music when opportunity granted.
-
-The hour came to pay our reckoning and to depart. We said good-bye
-over the teacups, but when we were sitting at the door putting on
-our shoes we heard the sound of the _geishas’_ white _tabi_ on the
-stairs. Their two ’rickshas wheeled up to the entrance for them, but
-they hesitated. They stood whispering to each other for a moment and
-then turned to us and suggested that they would walk as far as our
-inn gate with us if we wished. O-Owre-san and I were nonplussed. Hori
-hurriedly told us that their suggestion was a marked compliment, that
-we should accept it with thanks, and that he would explain later.
-Sometimes--and the occasions are supposed to be so sufficiently rare
-as to be of complimentary value--a popular _geisha_ will drag the
-hem of her embroidered _kimono_ along the street in this custom of
-courtesy by which she shows her appreciation for her entertainment.
-It should be remembered that a _geisha_ is traditionally a guest. In
-Tokyo, said Hori, a young blood who has spent his last spendthrift
-_sen_ on a gorgeous dinner will await such approval as the hallmark
-upon his artistry as host. If it is denied he reads in the answer not
-a mere feminine caprice but an impartial, critical disapproval. He
-seeks for the reason by trying to remember any errors in his own hostly
-proficiency. It is to be imagined, however, that while the bestowal of
-this approval may theoretically only be employed for the maintenance
-of the rigid standard of etiquette and artistry, in practice it is not
-always confined to such rarefied judgment.
-
-The five of us started on the long walk to the inn gate. I am afraid
-that the gentle _geishas_ had not given thought to the composition of
-the picture. Tsuro-matsu was rather tall for a Japanese, but Hisu-matsu
-was not, and the _seiyo-jins_ were somewhat over six feet each. In the
-daylight, also, the _geisha_ costume noticeably brightens a street.
-Walking abreast we made a cordon stretching across the road to the
-utter bewilderment of Kama-Suwa.
-
-We had found before this that the crowds which gather in provincial
-towns are seldom intentionally annoying, although sometimes they do
-jam around a shop door, shutting off the light and air. The steadfast
-staring may be unpleasant, but the foreigner soon learns to think
-little about naïve curiosity. Our march through Kama-Suwa certainly
-did attract attention, but the crowds separated and allowed us to pass
-without following at our heels, and I believed Hori when he said that
-this heroic restraint of curiosity arose from their innate feeling
-that its manifestation would be discourteous and inhospitable. This
-sense of consideration was not a sufficiently quick reaction, however,
-to prevent inordinate amazement when anyone met us suddenly. A boy on
-a bicycle, coming round a corner, forgot his own personal existence
-entirely and his unguided wheel carried him directly into a shop door,
-somewhat to the disturbance of the ménage and himself. Our progress
-continued slowly as the toed-in sandals under the long _kimono_ skirts
-of the _geishas_ did not take steps measuring with our usual stride. We
-found that dictionary conversation could not be pursued expeditiously
-in the street, and after a few attempts to make known words do the work
-of unknown with discouraging results, the advance proceeded silently
-and rather solemnly, although I received flashes from those two demure
-maids that they had a sense of humour. The corners of their mouths did
-twitch in mischievous enjoyment of the situation.
-
-When we reached the shores of the lake we sat down on the rocks and
-watched the boats. The rising breeze roughened the surface into a long
-path of flame against the red sun. Hisu-matsu had been dissatisfied all
-afternoon with the hurried effort of her hairdresser. She drew out the
-large combs and the heavy strands of hair fell over her shoulders. She
-told us a queer, whimsical story about the birds that were flying over
-the reeds. They said good-bye to us and walked away and we turned in at
-our inn lane.
-
-Our dinner was very late. Finally the stumbling maid came, rubbing her
-eyes and yawning. She was, as always we had seen her, on the immediate
-point of going to sleep. She had been carrying _sake_, all the night
-before, but she had been almost as sleepy on the previous day. Now, in
-serving dinner, she went definitely to sleep every time there was a
-lull in her duties. She had one hiatus of lukewarm wakefulness in which
-she mumbled some appeal to Hori, but he declared to us that the words
-had no sense. We began fearing for the few faculties she appeared to
-have.
-
-Hori listened more carefully. “I believe she is saying something,” he
-decided.
-
-Little by little we learned that she had a favour to ask the foreign
-doctor. Just how she had discovered that O-Owre-san had medical wisdom
-was a mystery. She said that all Japan knows that foreign doctors can
-do anything. She begged for a drug to keep her awake, something that
-she could swallow so that she would never feel sleepy again, or better
-than that, some drug so potent, if there were any such, that she would
-never even have to sleep again.
-
-“H’m,” said the foreign doctor. “Tell her there isn’t any such drug.
-Tell her to get a good night’s sleep. She will feel better about it in
-the morning.”
-
-Her disappointment was pitiful.
-
-“But I shall never have a night’s sleep,” she said. “If I ask for time
-to sleep I shall be told that there are many maids who will be glad to
-take my place.” She knew, she went on, that she was very stupid, but
-she maintained that she was not so stupid when she was not so sleepy.
-
-It is outside our comprehension and experience how the Chinese and
-Japanese can labour on and on, more nearly attaining a wakeful
-condition for the full round of the day than the individuals of
-other races would consent to endure even if they could continue life
-under the strain. In all inns the maids work long hours, nor do the
-mistresses spare themselves. The mistress of the inn at Kama-Suwa
-seemingly lacked the usual kindly sympathy for her maids and was
-unusually demanding. O-Hanna-san (the irony of calling her a _flower_!)
-could not dare the risk of attempting to escape from her slavery.
-It was for the sake of her fatherless child that she dared not, she
-told us. She, the clumsy, stumbling, stupid, sleepy maid, had had her
-tragedy as had had the pale, forsaken daughter of the nobility whom she
-had waited upon the night before.
-
-After her disappointment that she could obtain from us no
-sleep-dispelling drug she toppled again into unconsciousness. We could
-at least give her temporary help. We sent for the mistress and asked
-her for a full night’s sleep for the girl. For the maid’s sake it was
-necessary to put our demand on the ground that we must have better
-service in the morning. This saved the face of the mistress. After the
-mistress had consented and had gone, poor O-Hanna-san’s affectionate
-thanks were embarrassing.
-
-On a point reaching into the lake and under our balcony stood a small,
-one-storied shrine. It was sheltered by a tiled roof pitched on four
-columns. We saw from our room two figures in white walking along
-the shore. They stopped at the shrine and knelt for some time. When
-they arose the bright moon suddenly revealed that the two figures
-were Tsuro-matsu and Hisu-matsu. Hori went down to speak to them and
-in a moment their three heads appeared up the stairs. The _geishas_
-had changed the silks and brocades of their costume for simple white
-_kimonos_ and their hair was not now arranged after the elaborate style
-of the professional hairdresser. Instead of this simplicity detracting
-it quite startlingly bespoke the charm of their delicate beauty.
-
-They were embarrassed and they were blushing. It was one thing to
-have it their duty to be whirled in ’rickshas to a tea-house to meet
-strange patrons, but to pay an informal visit at our rooms, especially
-at that hour, was quite another affair, and most unconventional. They
-were shocked at their own impulsiveness in having run up the stairs
-and they were very much afraid that someone in the inn would discover
-their presence. The little shrine, it appeared, was in especial favour
-with the members of the _geisha_ house where they lived, and they often
-came, particularly if the moon were shining in the early evening, to
-worship before their duties called. We opened our rucksacks and found
-some odds and ends which we made do for presents. They chatted for a
-moment and then ran off into the night.
-
-Later Hori told me that as they were going they had asked us to be
-their guests at the theatre--there was a performance of one of the
-classic dramas by a travelling troupe from Tokyo--and afterwards to
-have supper at the tea-house.
-
-Hori’s explanation of his refusal was rather intricate and elaborate,
-but stripped of _bushido_ I think the inner simplicity was that he had
-suffered enough for one day from the conspicuous exhibition of our long
-legs and he had no desire for being responsible for taking them into a
-crowded Japanese theatre.
-
-
-
-
-XIII A LOG OF INCIDENTS
-
-
-It was dark and threatening the next morning but we decided to be on
-our way. We bought a couple of paper umbrellas. We soon found that
-when we needed them at all that day we needed a roof much more. Hori
-was off on his bicycle and we arranged to overtake him at the village
-of Fujimi. We were hardly out of Kama-Suwa before we had to make
-our first dash for shelter to escape drowning in the open road. The
-thatched house which we besieged for shelter would probably have been
-most picturesque on a sunny day but it was exceedingly primitive for
-a storm. Our hostess was a very old woman, diminutive and smiling.
-The rain pounded against her hut and discovered every possible chance
-to force its way in. She tried to start a fire from damp sticks and
-charcoal and succeeded after a long effort. The fire was to heat the
-water for our tea. It was useless to protest. No guests might leave her
-house unhonoured by a cup of tea.
-
-[Illustration: WE BOUGHT PAPER UMBRELLAS]
-
-Japan never seems so remote from the West as when seen through the
-rain. Fishermen, in straw raincoats, were wading in the creeks with
-hand nets. The children in the villages were wading in the gutters.
-
-The towns seemed self-sufficient and prosperous. They had captured the
-mountain streams and had led them away from their channels to run in
-deep, wide canals through the streets. Innumerable waterwheels drew
-upon this energy for the miniature factories. We were walking through
-one of these towns--the sun was shining brightly at the moment--when
-there was a sprinkling of giant drops. We knew that that meant another
-cloudburst and we turned in at the first door. It was a barber’s shop.
-We asked permission for standing room, but the men who had been sitting
-around a large brazier lifted it away and insisted upon giving us their
-places on the matting.
-
-The chairs, the mirrors, the shampoo bowls, the razors, and all the
-rest of the elaborate paraphernalia looked so immaculate and usable
-that I expected O-Owre-san to decide that it would be discourteous
-for him to waste such an opportunity of having his beard trimmed. He
-surprised me by suggesting that we toss up to see which one should
-make the experiment of the complete surrender to all the inventions.
-Perhaps he was tactfully suggesting that my unkemptness showed the
-greater necessity, but the turn of the coin made him the adventurer.
-
-The rain was now falling so that it swept the streets in a flood. The
-thunder was shaking the hills. A thunderstorm, for me, is the most
-soporific inducer in the world and my eyes began to waver and soon
-I was many times asleep. When I awoke, under O-Owre-san’s urge, the
-sun was out again. My joints were stiff, I was sleepy, and I was old,
-but the world seemed very new after its scrubbing, and nothing less
-than jauntiness could express the state of transformation, brought
-about by clippers, shears, hot towels, and everything that went with
-the treatment, in the appearance of my companion. The barber and his
-two assistants, with their huge palm fans, were bowing and smiling
-with an air of complete satisfaction. I was out of sympathy both with
-refurnished nature and the revamped man. I remarked irritably that his
-pursuit of beauty would be the ruination of our joint purse.
-
-“Yes,” he said, “and the fees equalled the bill. I had to pay some rent
-for your taking up the entire floor for your siesta.”
-
-The bill had been five _sen_ and the fees had been five _sen_, so that
-altogether we had squandered five cents of our money.
-
-Fujimi is little more than a hamlet. It is tucked away in a fold of the
-hills off the main paths of the trail. Its days are probably as ancient
-as the worship of Fuji. The view of the sacred mountain from Fujimi is
-a paradox of the beautiful. The sudden sight of the blue outline of
-the mountain against the sky comes crushingly into one’s consciousness
-as an extraordinary awakening and quickening, and yet the emotion is
-deep, reverent, and silent. Maybe it was our undue imagination but the
-peasants of the valley seemed marked by quietude. While Fuji-yama was
-cloud hidden that first day, on the long walk of the next we found the
-lonely labourers of the isolated farm terraces often staying their work
-for a moment, their consciousness lost in passionate gaze toward the
-sacred slope.
-
-It was only by much questioning of the peasants whom we met on the
-road that we were able to find the hamlet. Once when we were unable
-to understand the answer, with a quick smile to disarm our protests,
-the questioned one turned back his steps until he could point out the
-path. We had been swinging along at our best pace in the hours between
-torrents and it was not long after mid-day when we found Hori’s bicycle
-outside an inn. O-Owre-san declared that our sixteen or so miles had
-not aroused him from the sluggishness brought on by a full day’s rest
-at Kama-Suwa and he was for going on, but as the rain was now falling
-again, this time in a settled drizzle, he had to be a martyr to
-enduring a roof over his head or else to seek his own drenching.
-
-The inn was the most meagre in ordinary equipment of any that we
-had found. It was not much more than a rest-house, although it had
-evidently at one time been of more pretence. The fear expressed by our
-host that his house was unworthy had the ardour of conviction. In order
-to know better what to borrow from his neighbours for the entertainment
-of the _seiyo-jins_ he suggested a scale of three prices. We chose the
-middle quotation of one _yen_, twenty _sen_ (sixty cents). The fire was
-then started in the kitchen.
-
-Japanese architecture is said to be in direct line of descent from the
-nomadic tent of Central Asia. Just as the roof and the four corner
-posts are the essentials of the tent, in the building of a Japanese
-house, the corner posts are first set up and the roof is built next.
-Our inn might have served this theory of descent as an admirable
-example. The roof was the chief reason for its existence. There were
-no wings. The stairway was on the outside, coming up through the
-balconies which ran completely around the two upper floors. In winter
-days when wooden shutters enclose and darken the rooms the bare
-simplicity may grow dreary. The wind is then the father of shivering
-draughts which creep over the floor, but for the days of summer, when
-the green valley of Fujimi lies in the shelter of the great granite
-ranges, the memory of the stifling cave-like rooms of our Western
-architecture seemed barbarous and of dull imagination in comparison.
-The philosophy of Japan’s housebuilding appears to be that it is better
-fully to live with nature in nature’s season of wakefulness than to
-invent a compromise shelter equally reserved against nature through the
-revolution of the year.
-
-O-Owre-san had gone exploring to find the bath. A few minutes later our
-host excitedly came up the stairs to warn us that the bearded foreigner
-was tempting destruction. Rumour that foreigners have experimented with
-cold baths and have discovered reactions within themselves to endure
-such rigour had not reached Fujimi. When the impatient foreigner had
-learned that the hot bath was not ready, he filled the tub with
-the icy water that came spouting through a bamboo pipe. In the midst
-of our efforts to calm our host, O-Owre-san, himself, appeared, red
-and beaming. Nevertheless, neither his rosiness nor his exhilaration
-could allure Hori and me into following his recommendation to go and
-do likewise. We decided, instead, to take the host’s advice. He sent
-us to the public baths. Armed with towels, and in borrowed _kimonos_
-and borrowed wooden _geta_, we set forth. My _kimono_ came to my knees,
-no lower, and it was restricted in other dimensions. For the women and
-children sitting in the doorways our progress through the street may
-have brought some interest into a rainy and perhaps otherwise dull
-afternoon.
-
-The baths, housed in a low, small, ramshackle building, were famous
-for leagues about. The keeper of the baths was a “herbist.” He went
-out into the mountains--on stealthy and secret excursions which the
-cleverest tracker had never followed--and brought back sweet-scented
-hay which his wife sewed into bags and threw into the hot water.
-Everything about the discovery, she said, was their own secret.
-Whatever was the secret of the herbs, the natural, delicate perfume was
-pleasing. The two tubs for the men were fairly large tanks. They had
-been freshly filled with heated spring water just before we entered.
-It was not yet the men’s hour, but a half-dozen women were in their
-half of the building, either busily pouring water over themselves on
-the scrubbing platform or sitting placidly up to their chins in the
-hot water. The mistress was most energetic. She had a pair of large
-scrubbing brushes which she was applying to their backs. Back scrubbing
-in Japan is an ancient institution and the practice may have some real
-physiological merit. At least the vigorous scrubbing up and down the
-vertebrae produces a soothing and restful reaction.
-
-A phrase that I had come across in my dictionary had stuck in my
-memory. Translated, it was: “Will you kindly honour me by scrubbing my
-back?” I asked Hori whether my remembrance and pronunciation of the
-Japanese words were correct.
-
-“Pretty good,” said he, and then I saw a slumbering twinkle in his
-black eyes. “But why do you practise on me? Why don’t you say it to the
-mistress to see whether she will understand?”
-
-“Stop!” I spluttered. But it was too late. He had called out to the
-busy mistress to ask the foreigner to ask to have his back scrubbed.
-Until that moment we had been inconspicuous in our dark end of the
-room, but now everybody looked up and edged along for the entertainment
-of hearing a foreigner speak Japanese. I was responding, but my phrases
-were directed at Hori and had nothing to do with back scrubbing.
-
-There are exigencies of fate which come down upon one like an
-avalanche. The revenue to the busy mistress from the use of her
-scrubbing brush was three _sen_ from each person, which was a full
-_sen_ more than for the bath itself, and thus business was business and
-a serious matter with her. She descended upon me with her three-legged
-stool and scrubbing brushes and proceeded to earn the extra _sen_. I
-was completely cowed by her determination.
-
-We sat parboiling ourselves in the tub for some time. All the customers
-had now either been scrubbed or had not asked to be scrubbed, and the
-mistress could sit down for a moment to rest and to talk. Particularly
-did she talk. She talked on and on, exploiting the merits of the local
-advantages of Fujimi. Ah, where could one go to find Fujimi’s equal?
-Such views! And we must promise to visit the tea-house. It was unfair
-to refuse that to Fujimi. The maids, it was true, were not _geishas_,
-but they were every whit as talented as any _geisha_ of Tokyo, and
-sang and played and danced far better than provincial _geishas_.
-
-Back in our inn the extra twenty _sen_ apiece above the minimum rate
-had wrought marvels in the kitchen. We were hungry. We were always
-hungry. And we had learned always to expect the inn dinners to satisfy
-our demands. That night we truly had marvellous dishes. The bamboo
-shoots were as tender as bamboo shoots can be. Whether supreme genius
-or chance was responsible for the sauce for the chicken, the result
-was perfection. Dinner was very early. After the meal I found a
-longer _kimono_ and, as the rain had stopped for an interval, Hori
-and I walked to a hill to see the sunset. On our way back we passed
-the tea-house which had been so enthusiastically recommended by the
-mistress of the baths. We went in. Green peaches were brought to us to
-nibble at, and tea and warm beer to sip.
-
-The house was indeed gorgeous with its gold screens and polished wood.
-The decorations almost kept within traditional taste, and simplicity
-had not been too grievously erred against; but the atmosphere of
-proportion and rhythm had been missed by that narrow margin which
-perversely is more irritating inversely to the width of the escape. We
-may possibly have had the added impulse to this critical judgment by
-the insidious predilection of the mosquitoes for us rather than for the
-two maids who were paring the peaches. One of them explained that the
-mosquitoes of Fujimi are famous for preferring outsiders.
-
-Two of the rooms were crowded with supper parties, of wine, women, and
-song, but compared to the revelries of bucolic bloods in other lands,
-something might be said in praise of such restraint as prevailed in the
-Fujimi tea-house. It may be no honour nor compliment to the spirit of
-refinement to wish vice as well as virtue clothed in some modicum of
-grace and retirement, but it does make the world easier to live in.
-
-The soft rain stopped dripping from the eaves some time in the night
-and the sky was clear when the sun leaped above the mountain ridge, as
-if impatient to find the radiance of the glorious, virginal day. The
-green of the valley was a glowing emerald and the mountains were sharp
-and grey with no shielding haze.
-
-Our host sent his daughter to lead us through a short cut in the hills
-to the main road. Hori, with his bicycle, had to take the conventional
-path. The little _musume_ trotted along at our side with a full sense
-of responsibility, her feet twinkling down the rocky pitches, her
-_kimono_ sleeves fluttering out like wings. Suddenly she pointed the
-way and then, before we could thank her, ran back. Skipping and dancing
-she ran, reaching out her hands to the leaves on the bushes or waving
-them to the flying insects.
-
-The rain clouds had hidden Fuji-san the day before. On this morning as
-we came through the sharp cut in the rocks which led to the main road,
-outlined against the sky we saw the long purple slope. We climbed to a
-terrace on the side of a granite block and sat with our feet dangling
-and our chins in our hands. There was one white cloud, no bigger than
-a man’s hand. It floated slowly toward the crater and then hesitated
-above the snow ribs on the sides. Then came another cloud across the
-sky, then another and another, until the summit was hidden by the
-glowing veils. We slid down from our rock and walked on toward the
-mountain.
-
-From the day that we left the plains and turned into the hills our
-tramping had been long climbs but now the road again dropped away
-toward the lowlands. We had easily forgotten the hours of dancing heat
-waves, but, with a start, I began to remember Nagoya, of the rice
-plains, of those stifling nights and brazen days. The memory had also
-grown dim of my once rhapsodical joy in finding shaved ice to slake
-my dusty thirst. If I had never known anything but the quiet, velvet
-smoothness of water from wells and springs and the knowledge of the
-grind of ice particles against my tongue had been denied me, then I
-might well have mistaken affection for passion. There was no spring nor
-stream to be found. The lower path of the widening valley was growing
-into a road but we were following a trail higher up on the ridge. Down
-under the leaves of the trees we thought we saw a thatched roof. If
-there was a house there, there would be water. We found a path downward
-by making it, and we were rewarded by seeing a house under the trees.
-
-An old woman was reeling silk from the cocoons which she had floating
-in a bowl of hot water. She glanced up casually when she heard our
-step, but when she saw what she saw her mouth and eyes opened and
-the cocoons dropped from her fingers. It was the purity of absolute
-surprise without admixed fear or any other diluting emotion. I began
-to doubt that she would ever have another emotion but at last the need
-for breath racked her, and the resulting gasp freed her from the spell
-of silence which, indeed, was a most unusual state. She assailed us
-with a deluge of questions. With every possible variation of the query
-she demanded to know if we were really foreigners. I was repeating,
-“_Hei, hei, seiyo-jin_” as best I could when I heard coming through the
-valley the welcome rattle of the demon bicycle.
-
-I turned over my task to Hori and he took up the assurance to the
-old woman that she was actually in the presence of flesh and blood
-foreigners. With his every reiteration the wider became the smile of
-her satisfaction. She stood on one foot and then the other and clapped
-her hands and finally ran across the road to another house. She called
-into the door and a young woman came out. The girl was the wife of her
-grandson and the explanations had to be made over again for her. Then
-we sat down on the floor and she brought tea and cold water and red
-peaches. The questions still came. Our wrinkled hostess was a delighted
-child. She stared at one of us and then turned to stare at the other.
-At last she settled a continuing gaze upon me. She was enduring some
-restraint but it could be humanly endured no longer. She walked over to
-me and naïvely unbuttoned the top buttons of my flannel shirt.
-
-“It is so,” she said to her granddaughter-in-law, “they are white all
-over.”
-
-When we got up to go I asked permission to take her picture. We all
-stepped into the road together. When the camera clicked and was again
-in my rucksack, she dramatically raised her eyes to the mountain tops
-and gave us her _vale_.
-
-“I am eighty years old. I have never seen a foreigner. I have wanted
-all my life to see a foreigner. Now that I have seen foreigners I can
-die happy.”
-
-We gave her one of our paper umbrellas as a remembrance so that if she
-should wake up the next morning with a doubt that it had all really
-happened there would be that visible evidence standing in the corner.
-The testimony of our visitation in the shape of a fifteen-cent umbrella
-was evidently appreciated. She took it cherishingly in her arms as if
-it were newborn and of flickering life.
-
-It is fourteen miles by railroad from Fujimi to Hinoharu. The railroad
-would be the shortest distance for a crow, but even that bird might
-find himself the blacker if he should essay the long, sooted tunnels.
-We found many extra miles by exploring the up-and-down paths for the
-changing views of Fuji, but nevertheless it was early in the afternoon
-when we reached Hinoharu. I then discovered two shaved ice shops,
-one after the other, and the intoxication pitched my mood to full
-ebulliency. For one day O-Owre-san could have as much walking as he
-could digest as far as I was concerned. We shouldered our rucksacks and
-Hori coasted off down the hill with the promise of a welcome of shaved
-ice and a hot bath at the best inn in Nirasaki.
-
-Some distance out of Hinoharu and well into the country we discovered
-two brothers of the road. They were trying to manufacture a cup out of
-a piece of bamboo to reach into the recesses of the rocks to get at the
-water of a trickling spring. We offered them the aid of our aluminum
-cup. Japan may affirm, as she does, the non-existence of any variety of
-native hobo, but I am sure that either of our new friends would have
-answered to the call of “Hello, Jack!” After salutations and thanks
-were passed, O-Owre-san and I climbed up the bank to the plot of grass
-in front of a wayside temple and sat down for a contemplative rest in
-the shade. We always tempted calamity, it seemed, when we tried to
-rest under the shadow of a temple. The two Jacks came tumbling after
-and shared our cigarettes with Oriental appreciation. They were rather
-picturesque individuals. Their cotton clothes were not only in tatters
-but were imaginatively patched. In a land where there is nudity and not
-nakedness patches do seem an affectation of the imagination.
-
-I was sleepy from the sun and I dropped back in a natural couch between
-the roots of a tree and pulled my cork helmet down over my face to
-keep off the flies, leaving to O-Owre-san the study of the habits and
-customs of the Nipponese tramp. As I lay there in drowsy half-sleep one
-of those companions, so I judged from the sounds which crept under my
-hat into my ears, was suffering from a mood of restlessness. Also he
-was afflicted with a strange, gasping wheeze. I had just reached the
-point of being interested enough to look out from under my hat when
-a panting breath was expulsed over my neck, and my hat arose from no
-effort of mine. I was left lying between the roots to look into a pair
-of pitiless, yellow eyes.
-
-It took me a frigid moment to discover that my vis-à-vis was a horse.
-The animal stood over me, holding my hat in his teeth just beyond any
-sudden swing of my hand. After he had had sufficiency of staring he
-tossed his head, still holding fast to the hat, and ambled off towards
-the road. I jumped to my feet and followed. As soon as the bony,
-ill-kempt creature stepped out of the temple grounds his malevolence
-vanished. He dropped the hat into the gutter and jogged away to find
-a more conventional pasture. We could now add animals to the list of
-uncanny powers that from time to time had driven us from resting in
-temple grounds. I had no temper left for facing the laughter of the two
-Japanese tramps. I called back to O-Owre-san that I was on my way and
-he kindly brought my rucksack.
-
-Instead of the usual sharp differentiation between city and country,
-Nirasaki has an indefinite beginning of straggling houses. The town
-lies along the shore of the Kamanashigawa river, which has cut its
-way through the granite rocks of the valley, a strong current flowing
-a thick, whitish grey colour. As we were entering the outskirts we
-heard the shrill whistle of the reed pipe of a pedlar and a moment
-later we saw him coming out of a gate carrying his swinging boxes of
-trays hung from a yoke across his shoulders. He was so abnormally tall
-for a Japanese that we quickened our step to have a look at him. He
-dropped the reed from his lips to sing-song his wares--odds and ends
-of shining trumpery. The words were Japanese but the intoning called
-us back to China, and when we saw his face we were sure that he was
-a Manchu. He knew the last ingratiating artifice that has ever been
-accredited either to pedlar or Celestial. We delayed to appreciate his
-technic, to see him approach the women of the open-sided houses, and to
-fascinate them by the intensity of his will to please, and also by his
-ingratiating gallantry.
-
-“Take care!” we felt like saying oracularly to all Japan. “Take care
-that you never attempt the conquest of China. China may be conquered
-but never the Chinese. They will rise up and slay you not by arms but
-by serving you better than you can serve yourselves.”
-
-We found Hori resting in an ice shop. He had judged truly that the
-easiest way to find us was to let us find him, trusting that as long
-as I had a _sen_ I would never pass a _kori_ flag. The very pretty
-maid had her _kimono_ sleeves tied back from her graceful arms. I do
-not know what story Kenjiro Hori had concocted to tell her but after
-she had handed me my cupful of snow she watched me steadily with the
-air that she expected black magic at any moment. I caught a glimpse of
-Hori’s twinkle. I was filled with suspicion. Finally the maid turned
-upon Hori in exasperation and said many things. Some strange tale told
-about foreigners must have been one of Hori’s best creations, but in
-some way we had failed to live up to our heralding. She was exceedingly
-pretty and a pretty girl in a pretty tempest is just as interesting and
-bewitching in Nirasaki as in any other spot in the world. However, any
-translation of his tale to her Hori refused absolutely.
-
-
-
-
-XIV CONCERNING INN MAIDS AND ALSO THE ELIXIR OF LIFE
-
-
-The native inn is such an interweaving of privacy with no privacy
-at all that if the traveller has a sympathetic liking for the
-hospitality it should be put down to his temperament rather than
-to his reasonableness or unreasonableness. Calling upon all his
-reasonableness, the foreigner may still be miserable amid Japanese
-customs if he were born to a different crystallization. Hori considered
-the inn at Nirasaki to be rather superior to the average, meaning, I
-judged, not the luxury of the furnishings so much as the excellence of
-the service. The house was crowded. At most of the country inns which
-we had so far found we were the only guests, and the entire family of
-the host had usually requisitioned itself into service. Willingness and
-interest had made up for the few lacks but this home-made machinery
-might well have broken down if there had been a sudden descent of
-other guests. At Nirasaki, despite the crowding, we had not to wait
-an instant for the carrying out of any request. At all times two
-maids were listening for our handclapping and, for some of the time,
-three. They added to the customary willingness the knowing how of
-training. They were, in fact, trained inn _ne-sans_, a class whose
-manners and morals have been commented upon with some frequency by
-casual travellers, and it is possible that the outside world’s popular
-judgment of Japanese women has sprung largely from such observations.
-
-In any argument about Japanese morals the likelihood is that the
-simplest discussion will soon march headlong into a controversy.
-There arises in a critical comparison of their standards with ours
-the temptation to assume as a basis our ideal standard against their
-everyday practice.
-
-The Japanese maid, the daughter of the common people, has been again
-and again condemned for the easy lightness of her regard for her
-virtue. I have not found that foreigners who have lived in Japan and
-who have known the people intimately join their assent to this sweeping
-judgment. This charge has grown out of a confusion of possibility with
-fact. Although we consider that our Western individualism allows far
-more freedom of choice than does the Eastern family social regulation,
-particularly in the rigid customs and traditions for women,
-nevertheless in the morality of sex the guardianship of her chastity by
-an unmarried Japanese woman of the lower classes is a matter much more
-of her private concern and nobody else’s business than social opinion
-deems an advisable licence with us. But because the Japanese woman has
-this freedom it is as absurd to conclude that she makes but one choice
-as it would be to believe that all order in our society is maintained
-solely through the police and iron-clad restrictions. When conduct
-shall be entirely determined by rules, then it will be time to relegate
-character to the museum.
-
-The duties of the maids of an inn have never included that she must
-be self-effaced and a silent machine. In the historic friendly
-relationship between maids and guests there exists a certain standard
-of manners and good taste, a subtle necessity to the continuance of
-such existence. One cannot compare the customs of a Japanese inn
-with the traditions existing in an Occidental hotel. The _ne-san_ is
-unique. When simplicity and naïve amusement are spontaneously natural,
-vulgarity is starved.
-
-After dinner the three maids brought a fresh brewing of tea and
-teapots filled with iced water. They also brought the message that
-a travelling theatrical troupe from Tokyo was giving both new and
-classical plays at the Nirasaki theatre. The actors and actresses were
-guests under our roof and the mistress of the inn sent the suggestion
-that the strollers would probably be pleased to entertain us in our
-room with an act from one of their plays and with dancing and music
-when they returned at midnight. After our thirty miles in the hot sun
-the hour of midnight sounded grotesquely post-futuristic. However,
-it might well have been possible, fortified by tea, iced water, and
-tobacco, to have awaited the hour if it had not been for another limit
-to our independence. Temperamentally we might take little heed of the
-morrow but we had also New England consciences about paying our bills.
-We could not invite the players to our room without inviting them to a
-midnight supper, and we knew that the joint treasury could not pay for
-such a supper.
-
-Thus we made the excuse to the _ne-sans_ that their laughter was more
-pleasing to us than the sound of the _samisen_. (This statement was
-not without truth in itself.) The responsibility of amusing us did not
-seem to weigh heavily upon them; in fact it was we who appeared to be
-amusing to them. Stupid creatures, we, who could not even play the
-game of “Stone, Scissors, and Paper!” Our Occidental wits were always
-a fraction of a second behind. Hori laughed at the bearded O-Owre-san
-until the toxic of the paroxysm made him delirious. At last we
-acknowledged the sheerness of our defeats at every venture by sending
-the victors for ice cream and cakes, and the evening ended with the
-solemn ceremonial of trying to move the small tin spoons back and forth
-between plate and lips quickly enough to make a transfer of the frozen
-mounds before the heat of the tropical night levelled them into liquid.
-
-To escape the mid-day sun in the short walk to Kofu, we were off a
-little after sunrise. Kofu is more than two thousand feet lower than
-Fujimi and lies in the heart of a flat valley. It is an ancient city
-and has not lost its ancient pride, being the wealthy capital of
-the Kai province. We had so much time for the walk that we delayed
-continually, bargaining in little second-hand shops where the entire
-stock could hardly have been worth more than a _yen_, and stopping
-at the coolie tea places where labourers rested to smoke and to mop
-their faces with pale blue towels. When we were entering Kofu we were
-again tempted to halt upon seeing a _kori_ flag floating in the air,
-proclaiming that an ice supply had arrived. We had not expected to see
-Hori before we should meet at the inn, but by chance he came wheeling
-along our street. We called out and he came into our shade. Listeners
-gathered around our bench, apparently not so much interested in seeing
-foreigners as in hearing a Japanese speak English.
-
-In the crowd was a very old man, so old that his age seemed
-pathological rather than human. He made progress by a slow pushing of
-his feet through the dust. His red-rimmed, staring eyes leered into
-ours as if we exerted a direct line of magnetism. If we shifted our
-gaze he immediately shifted around until he again came into vision.
-Under his arm he carried a long glass bottle, stoppered with a
-cloth-wound plug. He held up the bottle before us. It was filled with
-a dirty, pale yellow liquid. Pushed into the bottle was a twisted root
-holding in the tangle of fibres two or three stones furred with slime.
-The stones looked somewhat like asbestos.
-
-“What do you think it is?” he asked mysteriously.
-
-We said that we had no idea.
-
-“I wouldn’t dare tell you the secret,” he went on, “as the bottle is
-worth five hundred thousand _yen_. If you should pay me a hundred
-_yen_ I would not allow you one taste.”
-
-We expressed our happiness that he should have such a fortune. Then he
-asked if we were Americans and, upon hearing that we were, he formally
-inquired for an answer as to whether the American nation would buy the
-bottle. “I can tell you this much,” he concluded, “it contains the
-elixir of eternal life.”
-
-The ancient seemed to be such proof in himself that he had lived
-forever that there was no arguing about eternity with him. For the
-sake of saying something Hori made the casual guess, “Is it radium?”
-He was startled into palsy. The crowd stared. Evidently they had
-heard of radium and it meant magic. Alas! We had gouged out the
-secret. “Ah-h-h!” said he, “since you know so much, how can you resist
-the opportunity of living forever?” We explained that under the
-circumstances of our poverty it looked as if we should have to die
-along with the rest of the world.
-
-“I have been but testing your faith and knowledge,” he said. “The
-radium of the rocks is permanent. Listen! The bottle may be filled
-again and again without losing its strength. For only thirty _yen_ you
-may drink.”
-
-Forthwith he uncorked the bottle and there escaped an odour so vile
-that if he had said the tube was the sarcophagus of the lost egg of
-the great auk we should have believed without dispute. He poured a few
-drops into a glass and said: “Drink, and you will live forever!”
-
-It is not alone honour that may make one choose death.
-
-The crowd, however, sought eagerly for eternity. They passed the glass
-around and touched their tongues to the liquid. If any out of the
-number of that circle escaped typhoid that fact alone ought to convince
-them of their strength to continue a long way on the road to eternity.
-
-
-
-
-XV THE END OF THE TRAIL
-
-
-Whether or no the Bosen-ka inn of Kofu does possess a wide reputation
-for comfort, it should deservedly have it. O-Shio-san was the name of
-the maid. This means O-Salt-san, but we renamed her “O-Sato-san,” which
-means Miss Sugar. She said that she had been at the inn for fifteen
-years, but until the day before there had never come a foreigner, and
-now there were two besides ourselves. I do not understand how such
-immunity could have been possible in a city the size of Kofu. However,
-the fact that there were Occidentals under the roof of the hostelry
-at that moment was proved by sight and sound. After the many days of
-hearing only the Japanese cadence, the sound of Western tongues was
-almost startling. The large room, which became ours, was in the main
-building and faced the garden. We could look across to the wing where
-the two foreigners were sitting on their balcony. They were eating
-tiffin and talking vigorously. One was a short, black-haired, merry
-Frenchman, the other a tall, blond, closely-cropped German. They
-spoke either language as the words came. Quite likely they had been in
-the same university in some European city, and their travelling was a
-leisurely grand tour. They could not have been hurried or they would
-not have taken time to search out Kofu. Their gay spirit was charming.
-They looked into the eyes of the world with a friendly gaze and the
-world smiled back at them. Within the month, France and Germany were to
-declare the implacable war.
-
-High-pitched footbridges linked together the miniature islands of the
-garden and carried a labyrinthine path over the lotus-covered pond.
-Lying on the cool, clean mats of our room, sheltered from the sun, the
-thought of antique shops lured me not. I declared for contemplation,
-but Hori and O-Owre-san wandered forth. O-Shio-san brought fresh tea
-and a brazier of glowing charcoal for my pipe. My contemplation began
-and ended with a luxurious enjoyment of the view of the garden. Through
-the quiet air came the slow, deep tones of temple gongs. It was a day
-of special masses. My thoughts found rest in sensuous nothingness and I
-drifted tranquilly in a glory of inaction. Another day of such devotion
-to passivity might have started the unfolding within me of the leaves
-of appreciation for the philosophy of Nirvana, but in the morning some
-illogical shame for such laziness urged me into joining the pilgrimage
-of Hori and O-Owre-san to the Sen-sho cañon.
-
-[Illustration: O-SHIO-SAN IN THE BOSEN-KA INN GARDEN.]
-
-The deep, sharp cleft in the granite through which that mountain stream
-pitches has a rugged beauty. Most perversely, if we had discovered
-the grandeur for ourselves and had not been over-persuaded by the
-innkeeper to take the long walk, we would undoubtedly have been more
-enthusiastic, but as it was we decided that we would rather have spent
-the day wandering about in Kofu. Even the unscalable cliffs took on
-sophistication from the well-worn path below, which proclaimed that
-the view had been the conventional thing for centuries. Despite all
-the instruction which the innkeeper had given us about distances and
-direction, he had escaped correctness in every detail. As often, there
-was no information obtainable from the heavily-laden coolies tramping
-along the way. If there is really any mystery which separates East and
-West it is the East’s oblivious indifference to time and space and
-our complete inability to understand the working of a mind which has
-over and over again been on a journey and yet has never considered it
-sufficiently worth while to take cognizance either of the distance or
-the hours.
-
-As we were walking over the flat plain to the beginning of the valley,
-we stopped for a few minutes to watch a field drill of the conscript
-army. It was a very hot day, but the uniforms seemed designed for a
-Manchurian winter. A few of the men had fallen out of the ranks from
-exhaustion. We heard later that during that hot week in one of the
-provinces some officer with a new theory had issued an order against
-the drinking of water during drill, and that the lives of a number
-of soldiers had been sacrificed to sunstroke. It stirred up an angry
-scandal. My knowledge of positive thirst would have made me a hanging
-judge if I had sat on the inquiring court-martial.
-
-We walked on and had forgotten the drill when four or five men and a
-panting officer overtook us. They entered into a sharp debate with
-Hori. Finally they dropped behind but followed us until we were a mile
-away. They had suspected that we were Russian spies.
-
-We lingered in Kofu for several days but at last again took the old
-road which runs through the long valleys to Tokyo. This trail from Kofu
-on is rather closely followed by the railway just as is the Tokaido
-in the South. I do not know whether it was in honour of (or in disgust
-at) all such modernities that feudal Yedo changed its name to Tokyo.
-The capital was our destination and we had intended keeping along the
-direct road but upon a whim (and a look at the map) we suddenly decided
-to climb the ridge between us and Fuji-san, and then to encircle the
-base of the sacred mountain until we should find again the Tokaido
-which we had forsaken at Nagoya.
-
-It was at the moment of this decision that the demon bicycle collapsed
-utterly. If it had acquiesced to the change of route it would have had
-to submit to being carried on the back of a coolie. I have not dared to
-record all the subtle ingenuities of that mechanical contrivance which
-it had concocted from time to time to achieve its ends. Its soul had
-been factoried under a star hostile to human dignity. It could bring
-about a loss of face to the most innocent who crossed its path. It had
-the pride of never having been successfully outwitted, and its soul was
-as proud as the soul of Lucifer. It had no intention of submitting to
-the indignity of being packed on a coolie nor to have the world see it
-with its wheels wobbling idly in the air. In desperate determination
-it committed _hara-kiri_. Its suicide was heroically completed. As
-I recorded in the chapter when the bicycle was introduced, Hori gave
-a shining piece of silver to the coolie to see that the remains had
-suitable interment. Peace be to those twisted spokes and to that
-jerry-contraptioned frame!
-
-About noon we found a man with a horse. The man hired himself out to
-run along behind and Hori mounted the animal. The summit between us
-and Fuji was only about three thousand feet above our heads but as
-we continually had to go down into deep valleys and come up again
-our gross climbing took many steps. The thatched villages were very
-primitive, and the people were very nude. The homes which clung
-desperately to the edges of the cliffs must have had to breed a special
-race of children to survive tumbles, just as in the villages underneath
-on the shores of the small lakes, they must have had to breed an
-instinctive knowledge of floating. The houses of those peasants were
-as much a part of nature as are birds’ nests, and they so welded
-themselves into the unity of the view from the ridges that we did not
-even think to call them picturesque.
-
-Poor Hori had not a moment when he could sit perpendicularly on his
-steed. The road was either a scramble or a slide. Finally he dismissed
-the coolies and the horse. We were at the beginning of a path which was
-built in sharp zigzags up the side of the mountain. A half-dozen coolie
-girls with huge chests strapped on their shoulders stopped at a spring
-and sat down for a moment to fan their flushed, pretty faces. They told
-us that this was the last climb but they were indefinite about the
-remaining distance or the time that it would take. It had been our plan
-to get to the top in time for the sunset view of Fuji and the lakes.
-Perhaps the demon bicycle had been granted one last diabolical wish. We
-were within a few feet of the summit, the air was seemingly clear, when
-down came a thick, wet cloud from nowhere at all, and our expectation
-for the crowning glory of the day vanished.
-
-All the way down the other side of the mountain the fog hung over
-us but it lifted when we reached the shore of Lake Shoji. A village
-straggled along the water edge. We knew that across the lake was a
-foreign hotel, but if we had not known it we should nevertheless have
-had some such suspicion. From the attitude of the villagers it was
-evident that we had traversed again into tourist territory. The mild,
-jocular incivility of the natives of any tourist resort any place in
-the world, except when there is some restraint under the immediacy
-of employment, is innate and needs no aggravation for its flowering.
-We were tourists, therefore we must be imbecilic. Derisive hooting
-followed our ears when we started walking around the lake instead of
-conventionally taking a boat. Between the fog on the mountain top and
-our reception in the village we were somewhat out of sympathy with
-the last hour of the day, and we were even less happy when we reached
-the hotel, and it was brought to our attention that we had failed to
-remember that foreign prices prevail at foreign hotels. True, there
-were excellent reasons why the charges should be higher than at the
-native inns. The foreign supplies had to be brought long distances
-on coolie back. This knowledge, however, did not increase the number
-of _yen_ in our pockets. We were in a fitting mood for turning away
-and pushing on to some isolated village. Such a mood can drive a good
-bargain and the end was that we were given a room with three iron
-cots at a minimum charge. I must pay this tribute to that iron cot:
-I relaxed on its springs in an abandonment to sleep which I shall
-never forget. But there were other things foreign which were not
-so pleasant. To have to wait until eight o’clock for a formal dinner
-when we were accustomed to having meals served at the clapping of our
-hands, and to have to thump over rough board floors after we had known
-the refinement of soft matting, and to have to endure all the other
-half-achieved attempts at foreign service--well, “going native,” as the
-Britishers say in final judgment, “had been the ruining of us.”
-
-Waiting until the late foreign breakfast hour in the morning almost
-numbed the cheerfulness that had risen in me from the exhilarating
-sleep on the luxurious bed of springs, but the day was shining in such
-perfection when we found an unfrequented trail north of the chain of
-lakes, and Fuji-san was resting so clearly in the crystal air across
-the pine tree plain, that we quickly dumped into a maw of forgetfulness
-any remembrance of such mundane annoyances as foreign hotels. It may
-have been that volcanic gases were breaking through the clefts in the
-rocks and that the fumes inspired us with a Delphic madness; our mood
-became ecstatic. We unburdened ourselves of wild and soaring theories
-of art and religion, of love and life--and there were theories that
-came forth which we had never dreamed existed in cosmos. We scattered
-these inspired words in wanton waste as if we were on a journey to some
-world where such wealth would be dross.
-
-The town which we found for the night was on what is called “the Shoji
-route around Fuji.” We avoided the semi-foreign hotel but that did
-not save us from being tourists. The native inn had ready for us in
-the morning a bill almost twice as large as it should have been. In
-consequence we added no “tea-money.” If we had, we should have gone
-from the village penniless. In all our wandering this was the first
-deliberate overcharge, and in one way it may have been justified in the
-opinion of the mistress. She had probably learned from the semi-foreign
-hotel across the street that foreigners know not the custom of
-tea-money and ignorantly pay only the bill that is presented without
-adding a suitable and proportionate present.
-
-Truly we were now in the domain not only of the foreign tourist but of
-the native pilgrim as well. All day we walked through the towns which
-serve as starting points for the different routes of ascent for Fuji.
-It was the height of the season for the sacred climb and the towns,
-purveying every imaginable necessity and souvenir, had mushroomed
-into crowded camps. We were unworthy guests. As far as our purchasing
-ability was concerned, a postcard was an outside luxury. When we
-reached Gotemba we sat down for a conference, following the rule of
-“when in doubt drink a pot of tea.”
-
-By rail to Yokohama was fifty-one miles. We had leisurely covered about
-twenty-five miles that day. Even if we should make ten or fifteen miles
-more before night, there would be a sufficiently long, scorching,
-penniless day to come. The country was not new to us as we had both
-tramped through the exploited Miyanoshita and Kamakura districts.
-“Since these things are so,” I made argument, “let’s use our remaining
-coppers to buy tickets on the express to Yokohama.” As no one’s pride
-sufficiently demanded that we had to take the fifty-one miles on foot,
-this plan was our final agreement.
-
-Our linen suits were perhaps not as freshly laundered as those of
-the other haughty _seiyo-jins_ who were riding on the first and
-second-class cars of the train, but otherwise our poverty did not
-particularly proclaim itself. We walked to our hotel in Yokohama and
-took rooms, relying that future funds would come out of the letter
-which was supposedly waiting at the bank for me. In the meantime in the
-bag which had been forwarded from Nagoya I found a two-dollar American
-bill. This gift we cashed into _yen_ and sat through the evening on a
-terrace over the bund along the water front, sipping forgotten coffee
-and ordering long, iced, fresh lemon drinks. A steamer had landed that
-day and at the next table to ours was a charming group of American
-girls. They were filled with enthusiasm for the exotic. The soft,
-evening air, the passing life along the street, and the gay tables
-carried me back to my own first night in Japan, which had been spent
-eleven years before on that very terrace.
-
-The hoped-for letter was waiting for me at the bank. The amount above
-the exact sum necessary for my steamship ticket had been intended for
-insurance against extras. It was now necessary for mere existence. We
-entered into an infinite calculation of finance down to the ultimate
-_sen_. Yokohama was no place for economy and we shook off its dust
-for that of Tokyo and were happy again in a native inn. With our
-linen suits laundered, we called on old friends and shopped betimes
-on credit. It was a rather queer sensation to be bargaining for
-luxuries when a mere _bona fide_ payment of a ’ricksha charge meant a
-most delicate readjustment of our entire capital. Dealers were quite
-willing to forward boxes to America with hardly more guarantee than
-our promise to pay sometime. I felt that if we were to ask them
-suddenly for ten _yen_ in cash our credit would have crashed to earth.
-Nevertheless we were confident of our dole outlasting our needs. We
-lived our moments gaily. We saved _yen_ to pay the inn bill, and our
-boat was scheduled to sail on a certain day.
-
-Hori was determined that our last day should be worthy and memorable.
-Through friends he arranged that we should meet Count Okuma, the
-Premier of the Empire. We had made most of our visits about the city on
-foot, and on one of the hottest days we had walked the round trip of a
-dozen miles to have afternoon tea with a former Japanese diplomat to
-America and his family, trusting that his sense of humour would forgive
-our perspiration, but one does not arrive thus at a palace door. Great
-was the excitement at the inn when ’ricksha men were called and our
-destination was given out. We dashed away and careened around the
-corners at tremendous speed. It was at least the second hottest day of
-the year, but the coolies realized that they were part of a ceremony
-and that their duty was to arrive streaming, panting, and exhausted.
-
-Count Okuma, on his son’s arm, entered the small reception room into
-which we were shown. (The bullet of a fanatic shattered the bone
-of his leg when he was a young man.) Count Okuma is almost the last
-survivor of that group who directed the miracle of transforming the
-Japan of feudalism into the modern nation.
-
-We drank tea and asked formal questions. Following some turn of the
-conversation--Count Okuma was speaking of loyalty--we inquired, as we
-had of the ancient schoolmaster of Kama-Suwa: “Can virtue be taught?”
-
-The expression in the eyes of the Premier’s great, handsome head had
-been passive as he had acquiesced in what had been said up to that
-time. Now his expression became positive. He spoke slowly as if he were
-summing up the belief and experience of a lifetime.
-
-“When Japan, after her centuries of hermitage, had suddenly either to
-face the West and to compete successfully with you, or to sink into
-being a tributary and exploited people, our greatest necessity in
-patriotism was to recognize instantly that in the physical and material
-world we had to learn everything from you. Our social, commercial, and
-governmental methods were suited only to the organization of society
-which we then had. We discovered that your world is a world of commerce
-and competition; that the achieving of wealth from the profits of
-trade demands training, efficiency, ingenuity, and initiative. Our
-civilization had not developed these qualities in us. We could only
-hope that we had latent ability. Furthermore, observation of you taught
-us to realize the value of physical power. We saw that mere superior
-cleverness and ability in the competition to live is not sufficient
-until backed by a preparedness of force. America was our great teacher
-and we shall never cease to be grateful. In the physical world we had
-everything to learn from you, and to-day we must constantly remember
-that we have only begun to learn.
-
-“It was our overwhelming task to begin at the beginning, and we should
-have had no success if it had not been for the moral qualities of the
-Japanese people. These virtues cannot be taught--merely as they are
-required. They are the spiritual and moral inheritage from the past.
-In the avalanche of Western ideas which came upon us, it was our great
-work to pick, to choose, and to adapt. These ideas were the ideas of
-the commercial world. There are those who say that Japan in taking over
-these standards of materialism relinquished the priceless inheritance
-of its own spiritual life. No! We have had _everything_ to learn from
-you in methods, but that should not be confused with spiritual values.
-I do not mean mere creeds and dogma, but to the essence, the great
-fundamentals of all true religion.
-
-“It is possible that sometime in the future the outside world may
-discover that it will have need to come to us for the values that are
-ours through our great moral inheritance of loyalty. In a material way
-we can never pay back to you our obligation for having been taught your
-material lessons. But it may be that Western nations have put too great
-faith in materialism and that they will arrive at the bitter knowledge
-that the fruit of life is death unless the faith of men reaches out
-for something beyond the material. Then, if we of Japan have humbly
-guarded our spiritual wealth, the world may come to ask the secret of
-our spiritual values as we went to you to ask the inner secret of your
-material values.”
-
-
-
-
-XVI BEACH COMBERS
-
-
-On the morning that the boat was to sail from Yokohama we were up as
-soon as the sun first came through the bamboo shades. We exchanged
-presents with everyone in the inn and then walked away to the station,
-and everyone from the aristocratic mistress to the messenger boy stood
-waving to us as long as we could turn back to see them. Our packages
-and presents half filled the car. Hori had had a telegram to hurry
-home. The train was a through express to Kyoto and we said “_sayonara_”
-to him from the Yokohama platform.
-
-We went to the bank and I exchanged my receipt for the envelope which
-held the money for my steamer ticket. In our treasury was left one last
-Japanese note which we had been saving as a margin. We now thought
-it was safely ours to spend as we might choose. We went to find some
-very particular incense and some very particular tea which a Japanese
-acquaintance had discovered and had given us the address of. We
-plunged almost to the limit of the note.
-
-“Haven’t you heard that your boat has been held up forty-eight hours in
-Kobe?” asked the steamship agent.
-
-We had heard no such news, but we were interested. To be able to have,
-when one might wish to make the choice, the gift of forty-eight hours
-in Japan would be one sort of a blessing. At that particular moment the
-prospect had complications. Until that instant our system of finance
-had been the pride of our hearts. We had calculated so admirably that
-we had retained just one _yen_ for porters’ fees at the dock.
-
-O-Owre-san had his return ticket. “Can’t I pay for my ticket in part by
-cheque?” I asked.
-
-After consultation in the inner office the agent returned and
-announced, “No, that isn’t done.”
-
-The agent and his advisers thought that if I should happen to fall
-overboard there might be a legal complication with my estate--if I
-happened to have an estate.
-
-“Your records show,” I argued, “that my friend has crossed on your line
-three times. Discounting any other substantiality, at least that proves
-that one of us has had practice in not tumbling overside.”
-
-Evidently my logic was at fault. From the dubious looks that came
-across the desk I judged that the agent was thinking that such fly-like
-pertinacity of sticking aboard a vessel was suspicious and unnatural in
-a passenger.
-
-“Well,” said O-Owre-san as we walked away, “you’ve wondered what it
-would be like to be an amateur beach comber. Now is your admirable
-chance.”
-
-O-Owre-san seemed to forget that he was in no better position than was
-I in regard to funds.
-
-The day before we had had tea with the Premier of Japan. Now we faced
-forty-eight hours of starvation. Our horoscopes evidently had been
-cast that we were to be beach combers, the admirable chance of which
-O-Owre-san had suggested.
-
-We did not deceive ourselves that our few hours of homelessness made
-us professionals, nevertheless we were given a picture impression of
-Yokohama that could only have been bought by hunger and sleeplessness.
-We saw the going to bed of the city, and we saw its getting up. We saw
-Theatre Street gay with lanterns and filled with merrymakers. Hours
-later we saw the lanterns go out and the waiters and waitresses come
-forth to crowd into the public baths. We walked through the glitter
-of the street which winds between the houses of the wall-imprisoned
-_Yoshiwara_ district. There is but one entrance to this district--a
-long stone bridge. We saw that bridge again, at the hour of sunrise.
-It was then crowded with beggars and loathsome hangers-on, waiting to
-importune the exodus. Vice by grey daylight is horrible, and those
-brilliant palaces of the night before bulked in a row of dull and
-sinister ugliness in the half daylight. Back and forth we explored
-the streets of the city. We passed a foreign sailors’ low dive, and a
-toothless old woman and a leering youth grabbed at our arms and invited
-us in. They spoke phrases of English. There was wild laughter and music
-on the upper floor.
-
-Sometimes the hours went quickly, sometimes they lingered interminably
-with no seeming relation between their speeding and the interest of the
-moment. Sometimes we were hungry and sometimes we forgot our hunger. We
-found a small park near the foreign settlement with benches admirable
-for sleeping if it had not been for the diligence of the sand fleas
-and the gnats. From the park we walked down along the bund and on the
-promenade facing the harbour we found two seats. A Japanese sailor
-was sitting on one.
-
-We wished him good-evening and shared with him our cigarettes. After a
-time we wandered away to walk again through the streets of the bright
-lanterns. We had been refusing ’ricksha men for so many hours that the
-guild at last seemed to remember us as non-possibilities, that is,
-all except one man who persisted in turning up at every corner. He
-spoke some English and had a new suggestion for his every proposal.
-If ever a coolie looked theatrically villainous, it was that coolie;
-and furthermore, he was half-drunk from cheap _sake_. Eventually he
-discovered a companion and the two of them settled down at our heels.
-Whenever we hesitated they threw their ’ricksha shafts across our
-path. They thought that we were officers from some ship and they were
-counting upon our having to return before the four-o’clock watch. I do
-not know that officers ever do have to return at that hour, but the
-coolies were sure that we had such necessity. When four o’clock came
-they were mystified and angry. Until then they had rather amused us.
-We now told them to be off and we walked away into the quiet streets.
-They still persisted in their following. We tried indifference and
-we tried invective. I could see that the police at the corners were
-watching the procession. We might have appealed to them, but one seldom
-appeals to the police in a foreign land, especially in Japan, if there
-is any question of time to be considered. We had to take the boat the
-next morning. We had no desire to be ordered to report the next day at
-a police station; and for the matter of that, I should hardly have felt
-like criticizing any officer for deciding to lock us all up together.
-The coolies might have appealed that we had hired them and had not
-paid them. Anyhow, why should two foreigners be wandering around in
-questionable districts at such an hour of the night? If there had to be
-a settlement with our pair of villains, it was just as well to have it
-beyond the eye of the law.
-
-Our next move was melodramatic. We drew a line across the road and
-when our parasites caught up we told them that they crossed that line
-at their peril. Just what we should have done if they had crossed the
-line I have no idea. We walked along pleased with the result of our
-ultimatum until, ten or fifteen minutes later, I happened to turn
-around and again saw the two men, this time without their ’rickshas.
-
-We were now headed toward the sea front by way of the foreign
-sections. The buildings were absolutely dark but there was an
-occasional street light. If there were any watchmen they were within
-the walls. We had walked through the narrow streets of that district
-so often that we remembered the turns. We felt sure that the men could
-not catch up with us except from behind. We were well out on the bund
-before they came out of the alley that we had left. They were both
-carrying sticks, which looked like ’ricksha shafts, and the second man
-had a knife.
-
-We walked along toward the benches where we had been sitting earlier in
-the night. Steamer lights were twinkling on the harbour and O-Owre-san
-pointed out our ship waiting to dock at sunrise. Years before I had
-been attacked in the streets of San Francisco, but that assault had
-been so sudden that there was no anticipatory excitement. Our Yokohama
-anticipatory reflection was the amusing idea that if the knaves should
-attain the triumph of searching our pockets they would have a most
-disheartening anti-climax after all their evening’s trouble.
-
-Just as we reached the benches they came for us. We stepped around the
-first bench to break the charge. Outstretched on the bench was our
-Japanese sailor whom we had helped out with cigarettes. He may have
-been asleep, but when he jumped to his feet he was very wide awake.
-Without waiting for particulars he whipped out a clasp knife. We had
-been friends and this was a chance to even up his obligation to us.
-The two coolies stopped as if they had run against an invisible wire.
-We stood facing each other, and then, as stealthily as a great cat,
-the sailor began moving forward. He walked very slowly but he seemed
-to thirst to use his knife. Even with three to two, I felt that the
-coolies, half-drunken, would have tried to hold their ground if it had
-not been for the sailor’s uncanny deliberation. They waited for him to
-come no nearer. They fled. We could hear them running long after the
-darkness closed them in.
-
-We tried to express our appreciation to the sailor for his interest. He
-made some answer which sounded as if he were bored.
-
-One place and another we had found a little sleep in the two days but
-the thought of a soft, clean steamer bunk began to form itself in my
-brain and the first sign of the sun was truly welcome. We turned back
-to the city for one last long walk over the heights. The town was
-sleepily waking up. The streets that had been the darkest in the night
-were now the busiest. Our walk ended at the parcel room of the railway
-station where we had left our rucksacks. The boy who was sweeping out
-the station restaurant allowed us to shave and scrub behind a screen
-and make ourselves somewhat presentable for the boat.
-
-Our luggage, which had been in storage, was on the dock waiting for
-us. O-Owre-san thoroughly shook the linen envelope which had so long
-been our treasury but the yield refused to increase beyond three silver
-ten-_sen_ pieces. I once saw an Italian in Venice fee an entire hotel
-line with a few coppers. He accomplished the act with such graceful
-courtesy that seemingly the servitors were appreciative of the spirit
-of the giving rather than the value of the coins. I tried to distribute
-our pieces of silver to the porters on the dock with an air copied
-from my remembrance of the Italian, and the Nipponese recipients
-entered into the drama with sufficient make-belief to have saved our
-faces if it had not been for the chill in the critical eyes of two
-English sailors standing at the gangplank. The implication of their
-Anglo-Saxon hauteur was that it might be satisfying to the heathen in
-their darkness to weigh in with the heft of compensation such useless
-freight as palaver and smiles, but as for them, they belonged to a
-civilization preferring less manners and more substance.
-
-As the boat swung from the pier and open water began to show, a man
-came running down the dock waving the copy of a cablegram. “Germany has
-invaded France and England may declare war,” he shouted. Yes, decidedly
-our days of turning back the clock were over. We were no longer
-_ronins_ wandering in feudal Japan. We had left the Two-Sworded Trails
-and were back in the civilization of the two English sailors.
-
-Slowly the harbour of Yokohama was curtained and disappeared behind a
-brightly glistening mist. I stood against the rail trying to think of
-America and Europe. My mind had that illusory, abnormal clearness which
-sometimes follows days without sleep. I stood, thinking, thinking, the
-first beginning of that agony of trying to add a cubit to our vision by
-thought.
-
-[Illustration: SLOWLY THE HARBOR OF YOKOHAMA WAS CURTAINED AND
-DISAPPEARED BEHIND A BRIGHTLY GLISTENING MIST]
-
- * * * * *
-
-GLOSSARY OF JAPANESE WORDS
-
-
-
-
-GLOSSARY OF JAPANESE WORDS
-
-
- AKAMBO Infant
-
- BENTO Luncheon Box Sold at Railway Stations
-
- BUSHIDO Code of Honourable Conduct
-
- DAIMYO A Noble of Old Japan
-
- FUROSHIKI Large Handkerchief Used for Carrying Various
- Objects and Packages
-
- GEISHA Trained Entertainers, Singing and Dancing Girls
-
- GETA Clogs
-
- HEI Expression of Affirmation
-
- HIBACHI Brazier for Holding Charcoal
-
- IIYE No
-
- KEBUKAI Hairy
-
- KIREI Beautiful
-
- KISHA Local Train
-
- NE-SAN Literally “Elder Sister,” Maid
-
- OBI Girdle for Kimono
-
- O-HAYO Good-morning
-
- RAMUNE Carbonated, Bottled Lemonade
-
- RONIN Unattached, Wandering _Samurai_
-
- SAKÉ Rice Wine
-
- SAMURAI Military Class; Retainers of Daimyo (Feudal)
-
- SAYO Formal “Yes”
-
- SEIYO-JIN Foreigner
-
- SEN Standard Small Coin Equalling One-half Cent
-
- SHOGI Sliding Screen
-
- TABI A Cloth Compromise Between Shoes and Stockings
-
- YADO-YA Native Inn
-
- YEN Currency Standard, Equalling Fifty Cents
-
- O-YASUMI-NASAI Good-night
-
- * * * * *
-
-Transcriber’s Notes:
-
-Illustrations have been moved to paragraph breaks near where they are
-mentioned.
-
-Punctuation has been made consistent.
-
-Variations in spelling and hyphenation were retained as they appear in
-the original publication, except that obvious typographical errors have
-been corrected.
-
-
-
-
-
-End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Samurai Trails, by Lucian Swift Kirtland
-
-*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SAMURAI TRAILS ***
-
-***** This file should be named 53327-0.txt or 53327-0.zip *****
-This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
- http://www.gutenberg.org/5/3/3/2/53327/
-
-Produced by Craig Kirkwood and the Online Distributed
-Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
-produced from images generously made available by The
-Internet Archive.)
-
-
-Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will
-be renamed.
-
-Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright
-law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works,
-so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United
-States without permission and without paying copyright
-royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part
-of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
-concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark,
-and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive
-specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this
-eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook
-for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports,
-performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given
-away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks
-not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the
-trademark license, especially commercial redistribution.
-
-START: FULL LICENSE
-
-THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
-PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
-
-To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
-distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
-(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
-Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full
-Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at
-www.gutenberg.org/license.
-
-Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic works
-
-1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
-electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
-and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
-(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
-the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or
-destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your
-possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a
-Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound
-by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the
-person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph
-1.E.8.
-
-1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be
-used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
-agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
-things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
-even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
-paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this
-agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm
-electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.
-
-1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the
-Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection
-of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual
-works in the collection are in the public domain in the United
-States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the
-United States and you are located in the United States, we do not
-claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing,
-displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as
-all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope
-that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting
-free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm
-works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the
-Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily
-comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the
-same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when
-you share it without charge with others.
-
-1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
-what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are
-in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States,
-check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this
-agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing,
-distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any
-other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no
-representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any
-country outside the United States.
-
-1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
-
-1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other
-immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear
-prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work
-on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the
-phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed,
-performed, viewed, copied or distributed:
-
- This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
- most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no
- restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it
- under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this
- eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the
- United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you
- are located before using this ebook.
-
-1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is
-derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not
-contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the
-copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in
-the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are
-redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project
-Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply
-either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or
-obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm
-trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
-
-1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
-with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
-must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any
-additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms
-will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works
-posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the
-beginning of this work.
-
-1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
-License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
-work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
-
-1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
-electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
-prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
-active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
-Gutenberg-tm License.
-
-1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
-compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including
-any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access
-to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format
-other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official
-version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site
-(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense
-to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means
-of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain
-Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the
-full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
-
-1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
-performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
-unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
-
-1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
-access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
-provided that
-
-* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
- the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
- you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed
- to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has
- agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project
- Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid
- within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are
- legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty
- payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project
- Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in
- Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg
- Literary Archive Foundation."
-
-* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
- you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
- does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
- License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all
- copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue
- all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm
- works.
-
-* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of
- any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
- electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of
- receipt of the work.
-
-* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
- distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
-
-1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than
-are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing
-from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The
-Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm
-trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
-
-1.F.
-
-1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
-effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
-works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project
-Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm
-electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may
-contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate
-or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
-intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or
-other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or
-cannot be read by your equipment.
-
-1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
-of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
-Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
-Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
-liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
-fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
-LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
-PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
-TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
-LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
-INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
-DAMAGE.
-
-1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
-defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
-receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
-written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
-received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium
-with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you
-with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in
-lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person
-or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second
-opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If
-the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing
-without further opportunities to fix the problem.
-
-1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
-in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO
-OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT
-LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
-
-1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
-warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of
-damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement
-violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the
-agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or
-limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or
-unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the
-remaining provisions.
-
-1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
-trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
-providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in
-accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the
-production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm
-electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses,
-including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of
-the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this
-or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or
-additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any
-Defect you cause.
-
-Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
-
-Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
-electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of
-computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It
-exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations
-from people in all walks of life.
-
-Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
-assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
-goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
-remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
-Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
-and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future
-generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see
-Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at
-www.gutenberg.org Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg
-Literary Archive Foundation
-
-The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
-501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
-state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
-Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
-number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by
-U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
-
-The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the
-mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its
-volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous
-locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt
-Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to
-date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and
-official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact
-
-For additional contact information:
-
- Dr. Gregory B. Newby
- Chief Executive and Director
- gbnewby@pglaf.org
-
-Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
-Literary Archive Foundation
-
-Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
-spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
-increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
-freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
-array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
-($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
-status with the IRS.
-
-The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
-charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
-States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
-considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
-with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
-where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND
-DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular
-state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate
-
-While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
-have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
-against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
-approach us with offers to donate.
-
-International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
-any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
-outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
-
-Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
-methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
-ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To
-donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate
-
-Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works.
-
-Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project
-Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be
-freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and
-distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of
-volunteer support.
-
-Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
-editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in
-the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not
-necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper
-edition.
-
-Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search
-facility: www.gutenberg.org
-
-This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
-including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
-subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
-
diff --git a/old/53327-0.zip b/old/53327-0.zip
deleted file mode 100644
index 3809edd..0000000
--- a/old/53327-0.zip
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/53327-h.zip b/old/53327-h.zip
deleted file mode 100644
index 13096d1..0000000
--- a/old/53327-h.zip
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/53327-h/53327-h.htm b/old/53327-h/53327-h.htm
deleted file mode 100644
index 183fbc7..0000000
--- a/old/53327-h/53327-h.htm
+++ /dev/null
@@ -1,8918 +0,0 @@
-<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
- "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd">
-<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en">
- <head>
- <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" />
- <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" />
- <title>
- The Project Gutenberg eBook of Samurai Trails, by Lucian Swift Kirtland.
- </title>
- <style type="text/css">
-
-body {
- margin-left: 10%;
- margin-right: 10%;
-}
-
- h1,h2 {
- text-align: center; /* all headings centered */
- clear: both;
-}
-
-p {
- margin-top: .51em;
- text-align: justify;
- margin-bottom: .49em;
-}
-
-/*Modified horizontal rules to fix ePub display issue*/
-hr {
- width: 33%;
- margin-top: 2em;
- margin-bottom: 2em;
- margin-left: 33.5%;
- margin-right: 33.5%;
- clear: both;
-}
-
-hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;}
-hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;}
-/*End modified horizontal rule CSS*/
-
-table {
- margin-left: auto;
- margin-right: auto;
-}
-
-/*Table of Contents format*/
-table.toc { max-width: 30em;}
-td.tocchapter{ text-align: right; vertical-align: top; padding-right: 1em;}
-td.toctitle { text-align: left; vertical-align: top; text-indent: -1.3em; padding-left: 1.3em;}
-td.tocpage { text-align: right; vertical-align: bottom; padding-left: 1em;}
-
-.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */
- /* visibility: hidden; */
- position: absolute;
- left: 92%;
- font-size: smaller;
- text-align: right;
-} /* page numbers */
-
-.center {text-align: center;}
-
-.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;}
-
-.caption {font-weight: bold;}
-
-/* Images */
-.figcenter {
- margin: auto;
- text-align: center;
-}
-
-/* Transcriber's notes */
-.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA;
- color: black;
- font-size:smaller;
- padding:0.5em;
- margin-bottom:5em;
- font-family:sans-serif, serif; }
-
-/*CSS to set font sizes*/
-/*font sizes for non-header font changes*/
-.xlargefont{font-size: x-large}
-.largefont{font-size: large}
-.smallfont{font-size: small}
-.boldfont{font-weight:bold}
-.titlefont{font-size:medium}
-
-/*CSS to force a page break in ePub*/
-div.chapter {page-break-before: always;}
-
-/*Half-title page CSS*/
-#half-title
-{
- text-align: center;
- font-size: x-large;
-}
-
-@media screen
-{
- #half-title{
- margin: 6em 0;
- }
-}
-
-@media print, handheld
-{
- #half-title{
- page-break-before: always;
- page-break-after: always;
- margin: 0;
- padding-top: 6em;
- }
-}
-/*End half-title page CSS*/
-
-/*CSS markup for handhelds -- put at end of CSS*/
-@media handheld
-{
- img {max-width: 100%; height: auto;} /*Limit width to display*/
-
- h2.no-break
- {
- page-break-before: avoid;
- padding-top: 0;
- }
-}
-/*End CSS for handhelds*/
-
- </style>
- </head>
-<body>
-
-
-<pre>
-
-The Project Gutenberg EBook of Samurai Trails, by Lucian Swift Kirtland
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
-the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-
-
-Title: Samurai Trails
- A Chronicle of Wanderings on the Japanese High Road
-
-Author: Lucian Swift Kirtland
-
-Release Date: October 20, 2016 [EBook #53327]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SAMURAI TRAILS ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Craig Kirkwood and the Online Distributed
-Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
-produced from images generously made available by The
-Internet Archive.)
-
-
-
-
-
-
-</pre>
-
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 548px;">
-<img id="coverpage" src="images/cover.jpg" width="548" height="850" alt="Cover" />
-</div>
-
-<div style="margin-top:2em">
-<div class="transnote">
-<h2 style="margin-top: 0em">Transcriber’s Notes:</h2>
-
-<p>There is a <a href="#Page_299">glossary of Japanese words</a> at the end of the text. The
-first use of each of these words in the text is linked to the corresponding
-glossary entry</p>
-
-<p><a href="#TN_end">Additional Transcriber’s Notes</a> are at the
-end.</p>
-</div></div>
-
-
-<p id="half-title">SAMURAI TRAILS</p>
-
-<div id="Ref_Frontispiece" class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
-<img src="images/i004.jpg" width="600" height="559" alt="" />
-<div class="caption"><p class="center">FOREIGNERS</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub-->
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[iii]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h1>SAMURAI TRAILS</h1>
-
-<p class="center xlargefont"><em>A Chronicle of Wanderings on the<br />
-Japanese High Road</em></p>
-
-<p class="center" style="margin-top:2em">BY<br />
-<span class="largefont">LUCIAN SWIFT KIRTLAND</span></p>
-
-<p class="center" style="margin-top:2em">ILLUSTRATED</p>
-
-<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100px; margin-top:6em">
-<img src="images/i005.jpg" width="100" height="102" alt="Publisher logo." />
-</div>
-
-<p class="center largefont">NEW YORK<br />
-GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
-</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub-->
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[iv]</a></span></p>
-
-<p class="center smallfont">COPYRIGHT, 1918,<br />
-BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY</p>
-
-<p class="center smallfont" style="margin-top:4em">COPYRIGHT, 1918, BY HARPER &amp; BROTHER</p>
-
-<p class="center smallfont" style="margin-top:1em">PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub-->
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[v]</a></span></p>
-
-<p class="center largefont">TO<br />
-H. W. J.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub-->
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[vii]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2>FOREWORD<br />
-<span class="titlefont">FROM THE ALHAMBRA TO KYOTO</span></h2>
-
-
-<p>It was spring and it was Spain. Sunset
-brought the white-haired custodian of the Court
-of the Lions to the balcony overhanging my fountain.
-His blue coat bespoke officialdom but his
-Andalusian lisp veiled this suggestion of compulsion.
-His wishes for my evening’s happiness,
-nevertheless, were to be interpreted as a request
-for my going. The Alhambra had to be locked up
-for the night.</p>
-
-<p>I was lying outstretched on the stones of Lindaroxa’s
-Court with my head against a pillar.
-The last light of the April sun had scaled the
-walls and was losing itself among the top-most
-bobbing oranges of Lindaroxa’s tree. To dream
-there must be to have one’s dreams come true,
-some inheritance from Moorish alchemy.</p>
-
-<p>Despite the setting, I was dreaming nothing
-of the Alhambra, not even of Lindaroxa. I was
-thinking of a friend of irresponsible imagination
-but of otherwise responsibility. I was wondering<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[viii]</a></span>
-where he could be. On the previous summer we
-had walked the highroads of England and I had
-found him a most satisfying disputatious companion
-of enquiring mind. We had talked somewhat
-of a similar wandering in Japan, a vagabondage
-free from cicerones and away from the show
-places, but although we had treated this variety
-of imagining with due respect, we had never an
-idea of transmuting it into action.</p>
-
-<p>The Alhambra had to be locked up for the
-night. The custodian bowed low, and I bowed
-low, in unhurried obligation to dignity, and I
-walked away to my inn. There I found a cablegram
-from America. It read:</p>
-
-<p>“Can meet you Kyoto June two months’ walking.”</p>
-
-<p>It was signed by the other dreamer of the Two-Sworded
-Trails.</p>
-
-<p>I cabled back, “yes.” The message gone, I
-awoke to the reality of time and space. All Europe,
-Siberia, Manchuria, and Korea spread out
-their distances on the map and were lying between
-me and the keeping of my promise.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>It was in the darkness of midnight and it was
-raining when I stepped off the express to the
-Kyoto platform. For a month the world had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[ix]</a></span>
-been revolving giddily under railway carriage
-succeeding railway carriage until it seemed that
-the changing peoples outside the car windows
-could be taking on their ceaseless variety only
-through some illusion within my own eyes.</p>
-
-<p>I stood for a while in the shelter of the overhanging,
-dripping roof of the Kyoto station
-awaiting some providential development, but probably
-the local god of wayfarers did not judge my
-plight worry of special interposition. Finally I
-found a drenched youth in a stupor of sleep between
-the shafts of his ’ricksha. His dreams were
-evidently depressing, for he awoke with appreciation
-for the escape. We bent over his paper
-lantern and at last coaxed a spurt of flame from
-a box of unspeakable matches. (The government
-decrees that matches must be given away and not
-sold by the tobacconists. Japan’s spirit of the art
-of giving should not be judged by this item. The
-generosity is in the acceptance of the matches.)
-I climbed into the ’ricksha and stowed myself
-away under the hood, naming the inn which had
-been appointed by cablegram for the meeting
-place. The boy pattered along in his straw sandals
-at full speed through the mist, shouting
-hoarsely at the corners. At last he dug his heels
-into the pebbles and stopped, and pounded at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[x]</a></span>
-the inn door until someone came and slid back
-the bolts.</p>
-
-<p>Yes, the clerk answered my question, a guest
-with the name of Owre had arrived that day at
-noon and had sat up for me until midnight. He
-had left word that I should be taken to his room.
-Thus I was led through dark halls until we came
-to the door. We pushed it open and called into
-the darkness. Back came a welcome&mdash;somewhat
-sleepy. The clerk struck a match and I discovered
-my vagabond companion crawling out
-from under the mosquito netting of his four-poster.
-Between us we had covered twenty thousand
-miles for that handshake.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s the moment to be highly dramatic,”
-he said with an eloquent flourish of his pajam’d
-arm, and he sent the clerk for a bottle of native
-beer. It came, warm and of infinite foam, but
-we managed to find a few drops of liquid at the
-bottom with which to drink a toast. The toast
-was to “The Road.”</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub-->
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[xi]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
-
-
-<div class="center">
-<table class="toc" border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents">
-<tr><td class="toctitle smallfont" colspan="2">CHAPTER</td><td class="tocpage smallfont">PAGE</td></tr>
-<tr><td class="tocchapter">I.</td><td class="toctitle">The Quest for O-Hori-San</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Page_19">19</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="tocchapter">II.</td><td class="toctitle">The Ancient Tokaido</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Page_26">26</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="tocchapter">III.</td><td class="toctitle">“I Have Eaten of the Furnace of Hades”</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Page_56">56</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="tocchapter">IV.</td><td class="toctitle">The Miles of the Rice Plains</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Page_72">72</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="tocchapter">V.</td><td class="toctitle">The Ancient Nakescendo</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Page_104">104</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="tocchapter">VI.</td><td class="toctitle">The Adventure of the Bottle Inn</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Page_127">127</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="tocchapter">VII.</td><td class="toctitle">The Ideals of a Samurai</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Page_157">157</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="tocchapter">VIII.</td><td class="toctitle">Many Queries</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Page_173">173</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="tocchapter">XI.</td><td class="toctitle">The Inn at Kama-Suwa</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Page_188">188</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="tocchapter">X.</td><td class="toctitle">The Guest of the Other Tower Room</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Page_200">200</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="tocchapter">XI.</td><td class="toctitle">Antiques, Temples, and Teaching Charm</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Page_212">212</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="tocchapter">XII.</td><td class="toctitle">Tsuro-Matsu and Hisu-Matsu</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Page_223">223</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="tocchapter">XIII.</td><td class="toctitle">A Log of Incidents</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Page_243">243</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="tocchapter">XIV.</td><td class="toctitle">Concerning Inn Maids and Also the Elixir of Life</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Page_263">263</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="tocchapter">XV.</td><td class="toctitle">The End of the Trail</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Page_271">271</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="tocchapter">XVI.</td><td class="toctitle">Beach Combers</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Page_287">287</a></td></tr>
-</table></div>
-
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub-->
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xiii" id="Page_xiii">[xiii]</a></span></p>
-
-<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2>
-
-
-<div class="center">
-<table class="toc" border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="Illustrations">
-<tr><td class="toctitle">“Foreigners”</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Ref_Frontispiece"><span style="margin-left:-5em"><em>Frontispiece</em></span></a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="tocpage smallfont" colspan="2">PAGE</td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle">Kyoto Back Streets</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Ref_28">28</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle">The First Rest Spot of the Second Day</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Ref_48">48</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle">The Kori (Ice) Flag of the “Adventure”</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Ref_84">84</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle">We Came Upon a Wistful Eyed, Timid Fairy of the Mountains</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Ref_128">128</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle">“In the Fourteenth Year of My Youth I Took the Vow that My Life Should Be Lived in Honouring the Holy Images of Buddha”</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Ref_142">142</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle">We Decided to Take the Most Attractive Turn, Right or Wrong</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Ref_168">168</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle">Is it Idolatrous to Worship Fuji?</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Ref_184">184</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle">The Boys Must Be Taught Loyalty; the Daughters of the Empire Must Be Taught Grace</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Ref_226">226</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle">We Bought Paper Umbrellas</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Ref_248">248</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle">O-Shio-San in the Bosen-ka Inn Garden</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Ref_278">278</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle">Slowly the Harbour of Yokohama Was Curtained and Disappeared Behind a Brightly Glistening Mist</td><td class="tocpage"><a href="#Ref_290">290</a></td></tr>
-</table></div>
-
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub-->
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p>
-
-<p class="center largefont">SAMURAI TRAILS</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub-->
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span></p>
-
-<p class="center xlargefont boldfont">SAMURAI TRAILS</p>
-
-<h2 class="no-break">I<br />
-<span class="titlefont">THE QUEST FOR O-HORI-SAN</span></h2>
-
-
-<p>After our melodramatic toast of the night before
-it would have been only orthodox to have said
-good-bye to our Occidental inn at sunrise and
-to have sought the road. But we had a call to
-make. The fulfilling of the obligation proved to
-be momentous. There is one never-to-be-broken
-rule for the foreigner in the Orient: He must consider
-himself always to be of extreme magnitude
-in the perspective, and that any action which concerns
-himself is momentous. If Asia had possessed
-this supreme self-concern, she might to-day
-be playing political chess with colonies in Europe.
-The details of our call are thus set down in faithful
-sequence.</p>
-
-<p>“If ever you come to Japan, be sure to look me
-up.” This had been the farewell of Kenjiro Hori
-when he said good-bye to his university days in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>
-America. Hori’s affection for America had had
-the vigour which marks the vitality of Japanese
-loyalty. He had always singled out our better
-qualities with gratifying disregard for opposites.</p>
-
-<p>We were, however, without an address except
-that we thought he might be in Kobe; but it
-seemed unreasonable that after travelling all the
-way to the Antipodes we should then be baulked
-by a mere detail. In the faith of this logic we
-took an early train to Kobe, and the first sign
-that we saw read: “Information Bureau for
-Foreigners.”</p>
-
-<p>The man in uniform peering out of the box
-window was so smiling and so evidently desirous
-of being helpful that whether we had needed
-information or not, it would have been exceedingly
-discourteous not to have asked some question.
-We inquired the address of Dr. Kenjiro Hori.
-The information dispenser thumbed all his heap
-of directories. He appeared to be unravelling
-his thread by a most intricate system of cross
-reference. Then he looked at us with another
-smile.</p>
-
-<p>“Did you find it?” we asked.</p>
-
-<p>“I find no address,” said he, “but I tell ’ricksha
-boys take you. Ah, so!”</p>
-
-<p>Such a challenge was impossible to refuse.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>
-We got into the ’rickshas and the men bent their
-necks and jerked the wheels into motion with
-strange disregard for any bee-line direction to
-any particular place. It appeared to be a most
-casual choice whether we took one corner or
-another. This rambling went on for some time.
-Suddenly they held back on the shafts and said:
-“Here!” We were at the door of a wholesale
-importing house. No one within had ever heard
-of O-Hori-san. When we came back to the
-street with this information the coolies seemed
-not at all surprised. They shrugged their shoulders
-at our mild expostulation as if implying, “Of
-course, if he isn’t here he must be some other
-place.”</p>
-
-<p>After another panting dash they stopped and
-said: “Here!” It was obvious without inquiring
-that Hori could not be in that shallow, open-fronted
-shop. “Very well,” the shoulders answered
-us and on we went. We stopped for
-another time with the now familiar “Here!” We
-had traversed half Kobe. Our futile questions
-seemed to have nothing to do with any next step.
-Strangely, instead of having lost our faith it had
-been growing that by some system the coolies
-were following the quest. At this stop, when
-we looked inside the entrance, there was the name<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span>
-of Dr. Kenjiro Hori on a brass plate. We walked
-up the stairs and rang a bell and inquired for Dr.
-Hori of the boy who came.</p>
-
-<p>We asked him to tell O-Hori-san that O-Owre-san
-and O-Kirt-land-san would like to see him.
-Of all arrangements of consonants (w’s, r’s, k’s,
-and l’s) to harass the Japanese tongue, our two
-names stand in the first group of the first list of
-impossibles. We could overhear the distressed
-boy’s struggle with “O-Owre-san.” I was impressed
-that from that instant Alfred Owre became
-“O-Owre-san.” It was a secular confirmation too
-positive to be gainsaid.</p>
-
-<p>Small wonder then that Hori had not the slightest
-idea who was waiting at the door; but his surprise,
-when he appeared, was so smoothed out and
-repressed in his formal <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja"><a id="a-samurai" href="#samurai">samurai</a></i> welcome that we
-were tempted into moody thinking that through
-some psychosis the frightful slaughter of our
-names had destroyed his remembrance of our
-rightful personalities.</p>
-
-<p>Friends appeared and were introduced with
-ceremonial formalism. We sat in a circle and
-sipped iced mineral water. Hori inquired politely
-of our plans and then sat back in silence
-behind his thick spectacles. The icy temperature
-of the mineral water was the temperature<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>
-of the verve of the conversation. The day itself
-was rather hot; a damp, depressing heat. I tried
-to fan off the flies which stuck tenaciously with
-sharp, sudden buzzings.</p>
-
-<p>Of all varieties of uncreative activity, the analyzing
-of moods brings the least compensation&mdash;but
-that does not mean avoidance. During that
-hour a disturbing remoteness to everyday reality
-rasped as if something untoward had been conjured
-up. O-Owre-san and I talked, trying to
-explain our plans. We repeated that we hadn’t
-any desire to visit the great places, but our saying
-so sounded childish and impertinent,&mdash;very
-tiresome. A dignified ancient kept forcing us
-into a position of defence. To put us out of
-ease was his most remote wish, of course, but he
-did insist with patriotic eloquence (suggesting
-a Californian defending his climate) that the
-show places deserved to be paid respect. We
-insisted that our tourist consciences had been
-appeased long before, and that we now intended
-to run away from foreign hotels, from the Honourable
-Society of Guides, from the Imperial
-Welcome Society, from all cicerones, and from
-all centres where the customs and conveniences
-of our Western variety of civilization are so cherishingly
-catered to.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“But,” interrupted Hori, “you do not understand.
-You will find no one prepared for foreigners.
-You will find not one word of English.
-You must not do such a thing.” With Japan so
-earnestly providing the proper accommodations
-at the proper places, it was not playing the game,
-so to speak, to refuse.</p>
-
-<p>When an argument of policy is between an
-amateur and an expert (particularly so when
-between a foreigner and a native) the tyro can
-afford to compromise on not one atom of his
-ignorance. If he concedes at all he will be overwhelmed
-completely. We refused Hori’s warnings,
-remaining impervious to any advice which
-did not further our plan of action exactly as
-outlined.</p>
-
-<p>“Very well, then,” said Hori, “I shall have
-to go with you.”</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Under the excitement of talking plans Hori
-slipped out of his formalism, and became exactly
-his old-time self. Until the following week, however,
-he would not be able to turn his solicitude
-into action. He did not lose his cataclysm of
-positive doubt over entrusting the Empire in our
-hands, but as there was no escape from leaving
-us to our own devices for those days (and we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>
-made known a certain vanity in our own resources)
-he at length agreed to meet us in Nagoya,
-and we planned a route which would bring us there
-with our rendezvous at the European hotel.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub-->
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2>II<br />
-<span class="titlefont">THE ANCIENT TOKAIDO</span></h2>
-
-
-<p>It was the morning of our last sleep in <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja"><a id="a-seiyo-jin" href="#seiyo-jin">seiyo-jin</a></i>
-beds. I dreamed that I was still dreaming in
-Lindaroxa’s Court. O-Owre-san shook my four-poster
-and begged me to consider the matter-of-factness
-of rolling out from my mosquito netting
-and taking a bite of cold breakfast. The sensuous
-breeze of the East, which comes for a brief hour
-with the first light of the sun, was blowing the
-curtains back from the window. I was willing
-to consider the getting up and the eating of the
-breakfast and I was willing to call both endeavours
-matter-of-fact, but the imagination that it was
-to be the first day on the highroad belonged to
-no such mere negativity of living.</p>
-
-<p>I began packing and was inspired to improvise
-a wonderful ballad. It was concerned with the
-beginning of trails. O-Owre-san was busy and
-was uninterested in my stanzas. He might very
-well have served genius by taking them down.
-The all-inclusiveness embraced, I remember, a
-master picture of cold dawn in the Rockies, with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span>
-pack ponies snorting, biting, and bucking; and I
-sang blithely of every other sort of first morning
-start, embroidering the memories of their roaring
-language and their unpackable dunnage. But in
-Japan one does not roar&mdash;or one roars alone&mdash;and
-I had known just what was going into my
-rucksack for weeks.</p>
-
-<p>Our route was to be the famed Tokaido, that
-ancient road running between the great capitals
-of the West and the East, from Kyoto to Tokyo.
-We were to find its first stretch at the turn to
-the left when we should cross the bridge over the
-Kamo-Gawa. This river cuts Kyoto between
-two long rows of houses built on piles and overhanging
-its waters. In summer the stream is most
-domesticated and gives, charitably, a large area
-of its dry bed as a pleasure ground for <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">fêtes</i>, but
-when the snows are melting back in the hills in
-the days of spring and blossoms, it becomes temperamental
-and the peasants say that it has drunk
-unwisely of <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja"><a id="a-sake" href="#sake">saké</a></i>. It is then that the water winks
-rakishly and splashes the tips of its waves at
-pretty <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja"><a id="a-geisha" href="#geisha">geishas</a></i>, who come to scatter cherry petals
-on the current. But we saw only the summer
-domesticity on our June morning. A school of
-children were wading in the shallow current, fishing
-with nets. Their <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kimonos</i> were tied high above<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span>
-their sturdy fat legs. We leaned over the rail
-and they squinted back into the sun at us and
-called out good-morning. Then we stepped off
-the bridge and our boots were on the long road
-that leads to Tokyo.</p>
-
-<div id="Ref_28" class="figcenter" style="width: 494px;">
-<img src="images/i029.jpg" width="494" height="650" alt="" />
-<div class="caption"><p class="center">KYOTO BACK STREETS</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>Hokusai has pictured the Tokaido in his prints&mdash;the
-villages and the mountains, the plains and
-the sea, the peasants and the pilgrims, the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja"><a id="a-ronin" href="#ronin">ronins</a></i>
-and the priests. He did add his immortal overlay
-to the tradition of the highway’s immortality,
-but even the great Hokusai could only be an
-incident in the spread of its renown. The Tokaido’s
-personality was no less haughty and arrogant
-long centuries before the artist. It was built by
-the gods, as everyone knows, and not by man.
-This may be the reason why it has fallen upon
-hard days in these modern times, now that the
-race of man has assumed the task of relieving
-the weary gods of so many of their duties. Axes
-have cut down the cryptomerias for miles because
-the trees interfered with telegraph wires; and
-furthermore, a new highway has now been built
-between the capitals, a road of steel. For most
-of the way this new road follows alongside the
-old, although sometimes departing in a straighter
-line. The vaulting arrogance of all was when
-man took the name “The Tokaido” for a railway.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span>
-The trains pass by the ancient shrines of
-the wayside with no tarrying for moments of
-contemplation. To-day a <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">samurai</i>, with a newspaper
-under one arm and a lunch box under the
-other&mdash;his two swords have been thus displaced&mdash;goes
-from Kyoto to Tokyo in as few hours as
-were the days of his father’s journeying.</p>
-
-<p>When the feudal emperors made this pilgrimage
-they were carried in silk-hung, lacquered
-palanquins, and fierce-eyed, two-sworded retainers
-cleared the streets and sealed the houses so
-that no prying eyes might violate sancrosanctity.
-As for our pilgrimage we appreciated that we
-were not sacred emperors and that we were coming
-along without announcement. The inhabitants
-kept the sides of their houses open and stared out
-upon us. We felt free, discreetly, to return their
-glances from under the brims of our pith helmets,
-but occasionally this freedom felt a panicky restraint
-within itself to keep eyes on the road.</p>
-
-<p>In the legend of her famous ride, Lady Godiva,
-I believe, had the houses sealed before her approach
-as did those deified Nipponese emperors.
-We doubted, that early morning, whether the
-dwellers along the Tokaido, if they had been
-told Lady Godiva’s tale, would have had appreciation
-for her chastely wishing not to be seen, except<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span>
-as a mystifying and whimsical eccentricity.
-To preserve a deity from mortal eyes&mdash;yes, that
-might have been conceded as a conventional necessity;
-but our surety grew after a short advance
-that if the fulfilling of a similar vow by a Nipponese
-Lady Godiva should have its penance depending
-merely upon the absence of attire, she
-could ride her palfrey in the environs of Kyoto
-inconspicuously and without exciting comment.
-At least such costuming would be in local fashion
-the first one or two hours after sunrise.</p>
-
-<p>A mile is a mile the first day, and we had had
-three or four miles in the silence which comes
-from the feeling that one is really off.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s a good morning for boiling out,” remarked
-O-Owre-san, by way of breaking the spell.</p>
-
-<p>We were in a narrow valley walking head on
-into the sun. It was an excellent morning for
-boiling out.</p>
-
-<p>I suggested that it was a good time to take
-the first rest. We found a spot in a temple garden
-up a flight of exceedingly steep stone steps.
-Usually to throw off one’s pack is to achieve the
-supreme emotional satisfaction of laziness, but
-on this first essay we failed to relax. It was
-perhaps partly that we had not yet boiled out our
-Western restlessness among other poisons, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span>
-also there was to be counted in as opposed to the
-quietude of the garden a most unrestful suggestion
-contributed by a conspicuous sign written in
-English and nailed to a post. It read:</p>
-
-<p>“Foreigners Visiting Must Dismount Horses
-and Not Ride Into Temple.”</p>
-
-<p>There are visitors in the East whose idea of
-sightseeing the heathen gods might not preclude
-their riding their horses up onto the lap of the
-bronze Buddha of Kamakura; but how the priest
-imagined that horses were to be urged up those
-stone steps was a mystery veiled from our understanding.
-It even created a pride in our alien
-blood that we were a race thought to be capable
-of such magic.</p>
-
-<p>The Tokaido winds through the city of Otsu.
-It enters proudly as the chief street but escapes
-between rows of mean houses, becoming as nearly
-a characterless lane as the Tokaido can anywhere
-be. The town is the chief port of Lake Biwa of
-the famed eight views, and it is just beyond this
-town that the upstart railway takes itself off, together
-with its cindery smoke, on a straighter line
-than the Tokaido. The highway bends to the south
-in a swinging circle and wanders along for many
-a quiet mile before the two meet again. At the
-angle of the parting of the old and the new we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span>
-stopped at a rest house for a bottle of <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja"><a id="a-ramune" href="#ramune">ramune</a></i>.
-This beverage is a carbonated, chemically compounded
-lemonade. Its wide distribution does
-possess one merit. The bottles may often be
-used as a sort of guide book. Almost every little
-shop along the road has a few bottles cooling in a
-wooden bucket of water. Thus, if a stranger is
-walking from one town to another and if, as is
-inevitable, he has been unable to learn anything
-about distances along the way, he may at least
-judge that he is approximately half through his
-journey when the labels on the bottles change
-the address of their origin to that of the town
-which he is seeking.</p>
-
-<p>The <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">ramune</i> which we had at Otsu was warm
-and the shop was stifling and the flies were sticky.
-My clinging flannel shirt was unbuttoned, my
-sleeves were rolled up, and I had tied a handkerchief
-about my head. We carried our bottles out
-to a low bench to escape the baked odours of the
-shop, and while we were sitting and sipping two
-Japanese gentlemen came down the road, looking
-very cool under their sun umbrellas and in their
-immaculate <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kimonos</i>. Orthodox ambition in the
-temperate zone aims for respectability, power, and
-property, but in the tropics any temporary struggle,
-whether in war or trade, has as its lure the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span>
-reward of a long, aristocratic, cooling calm. Our
-Japanese gentlemen, superiorly aloof to the perspiring
-world, appeared to be amusedly observing
-the habits and customs of the foreigner as exhibited
-by us. Their staring rankled. Until then
-I had been happy in the exact condition of my
-perspiration. Their observance now chilled the
-beads on my back. Any number of coolies could
-have come and stared, and called us brother&mdash;for
-all of that&mdash;but we were being made to realize
-suddenly that in the Orient the lower the blood
-temperature the higher the caste mark. The parent
-germ of all convention in the world is “not to
-lose face.” It has been most highly developed
-by the Chinese and the Anglo-Saxon. For the
-Chinese it is personal, but it makes the renegade
-Anglo-Saxon, despite himself, keep on trying to
-hold up his chin in a blind call of blood loyalty to
-his own mob when facing the Asiatic.</p>
-
-<p>We picked up our packs and started off. It
-was either to retire or nihilistically to hurl the
-packs at their immaculateness. Just as we began
-to move one of them said: “Do you speak
-English?”</p>
-
-<p>The truth must be told that we recanted much
-of our wrath after the friendliness of a half-hour’s
-roadside palaver. The meeting, however, had a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span>
-uniqueness of experience far beyond anything
-merely casual. It allowed us the extraordinary
-record that we once did acquire local information
-from a Japanese whose conception of daily time
-and highroad space had some coincidence with
-our Western science of absolute fact. Mr. Yoshida,
-he who had called after us, knew that corner
-of Japan and he told us about it.</p>
-
-<p>O-Owre-san says: “Certain Japanese inexplicabilities
-are extremely ubiquitous.” He thus
-confines himself to six words. I cannot. I require
-a paragraph. Despite the ubiquitous mystery,
-there is always one certainty: Whatever may be
-the thought processes of the Japanese concerning
-hours, distances, and direction, the inquirer may
-be sure of this: the answer will not be concerned
-with answering the question. The courteous answerer
-earnestly uses his judgment to determine
-what reply is likely to be most pleasing. If you
-appear weary, or in a hurry, then the distance to
-go is never very long. If you appear to be enjoying
-your walk, then the distance is a long
-way. The village which has been declared just
-around the bend of the road may be two <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">ri</i> off.
-This is the desire to please, inculcated by the
-<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja"><a id="a-bushido" href="#bushido">Bushido</a></i> creed of honourable conduct. It may be
-thought that such paradoxical solicitude becomes<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>
-extremely irritating, but rarely does it. The wish
-to help is real, at least, and is not merely the
-carelessness of superficiality. The peasant may
-tell you that you have but a step to go, but if
-you are lost he will turn aside from his own
-path and show you the way, though it be for
-miles.</p>
-
-<p>We noted down Mr. Yoshida’s details concerning
-the inns and villages which we should find
-along the way to distant Nagoya. Experience
-soon told us to hold fast to his information, no
-matter the contradictions that were agreeably
-offered in its stead.</p>
-
-<p>We shouldered our packs and again were off.
-After a time O-Owre-san said: “I met Mr. Yoshida
-once at a dinner in America.”</p>
-
-<p>“Why didn’t you tell him so?” I gasped.</p>
-
-<p>O-Owre-san seemed surprised at my amazement.
-As nearly as I could determine he must
-have completely disassociated the metabolic Owre
-sitting on the bench in front of the rest house,
-drinking warm <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">ramune</i>, and the Owre of practical
-America. Perhaps the Japanese believe in
-the “unfathomable mystery of the American
-mind.”</p>
-
-<p>We had six hours through the hills ahead of us
-if we were to keep on that night to Minakuchi.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span>
-Our mentor had told us that one of the most
-luxurious of all the country inns in Japan was sequestered
-there. To hurry to any particular
-place was against our code, but this time it seemed
-reasonable to make an honourable exception.</p>
-
-<p>The sun went down behind the paddy fields.
-The muddy waters of the terraces caught the
-gleaming yellows and reds, but our backs were
-against this suffusion of colour. Into the darkness
-ahead the narrow road led on and on. Says
-the essayist: “The artist should know hunger and
-want.” But surely not the art patron. He cannot
-perform his function of appreciation unless
-comfortably removed from immediate pangs. If
-I were to be an enthusiast over that wonderful
-sunset&mdash;as O-Owre-san persisted in suggesting&mdash;I
-needed food. It had been fifteen hours since our
-cold breakfast and I thought of the inn with an
-ardency of vision.</p>
-
-<p>When we did see the town it sprang up
-abruptly out of the fields. All along the streets
-the lights were shining through the paper walls.
-We made inquiry for the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja"><a id="a-yado-ya" href="#yado-ya">yado-ya</a></i> and in a moment
-were surrounded by volunteer guides. They
-are always diverting, the Japanese children, running
-along on their wooden clogs and looking up
-into your face.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Maids without number came running to the
-entrance of that aristocratic inn, and dropped to
-their knees. They bowed until their glossy black
-hair touched the ground. The auguries all appeared
-auspicious. Then came the mistress.
-There were many polite words, but no one took
-our rucksacks and no one invited us in. Every
-second’s waiting for the bath and dinner was very,
-very long.</p>
-
-<p>My Japanese of twelve years before had been
-but a few words. Days on the Trans-Siberian
-of grammar and dictionary study had not even
-brought back that little, but now suddenly I began
-to understand what the mistress of that inn
-was saying. I had no vanity in my understanding.
-The understanding was that we were not wanted.
-I had been tired and I had been hungry when
-we reached the door, but now I knew the unutterable
-weariness of smelling a dinner which
-may not be eaten.</p>
-
-<p>The crowd was amused, but it showed its
-amusement considerately and with restraint.
-Nevertheless two <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">seiyo-jins</i> had lost face. Apparently
-the mistress did not wish such suspicious-looking
-foreigners, grimy, dustless, and coatless,
-to remain even in the same town. She called two
-’rickshas. She named the next village. She had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span>
-this much magnanimity that she purposed giving
-us the chance of orderly retreat.</p>
-
-<p>I tried to continue smiling with dignity and affability.
-It is somewhat of a strain on diplomatic
-smiles when the subject of discussion is vitally
-concerned with one’s own starvation. Nevertheless
-I did smile. I explained that whatever we
-did we were not going on to the next town. I
-knew the word for “another,” and the word for
-“inn,” and how to say, “Is it?” And thus I
-asked: “Another inn here, is it?” There was
-little incitement to believe that she understood except
-that her mouth pouted ever so slightly as if
-in surprise that I should imply that the mistress
-of such a superior inn could have any knowledge
-concerning mere bourgeois caravansaries.</p>
-
-<p>O-Owre-san, during this parleying, had put on
-his coat and in other subtle ways had transformed
-himself into a conventional foreigner. After that
-he had settled into repose and silence. I looked at
-him. I searched for a flaw. I declared by the
-great Tokaido itself that with such a fright-producing
-handicap as his ultra-Occidental beard
-we should never find resting spots outside the local
-jails.</p>
-
-<p>“Humph!” said he. “Stop talking for a minute
-and put on your coat.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>I succumbed. “All right, then,” I said.
-“Here’s for the magic of that vestment of respectability.”</p>
-
-<p>I sat down on the ground and untied the bag.
-The prophecy of magic was too feeble by far
-for the prestidigitation which followed. I shook
-out the folds of the garment which is called a coat,
-a mere two sleeves, a back and a front and a few
-buttons. The circle came closer. But it was not
-the coat after all which caused our audience so
-graciously to begin giving back our lost faces to
-us&mdash;it was the supermagic of one leg of a pair of
-silk pajamas. A black-eyed jackdaw, a trifle
-more daring in her curiosity than the others, discovered
-the hem of that garment tipping out from
-a corner of my pack. She gave it a jerk, and
-then another. Next she looked up with coaxing
-persuasion, suggesting encouragement to tug
-again.</p>
-
-<p>O-Owre-san had insisted that I have those
-pajamas made in Kyoto. He has theories about
-the necessity of silk pajamas. I never, even remotely,
-followed the dialectics of his reasons,
-but I must add to the credit side of such theorizings
-that pajamas are a most intriguing garment
-to pass around for the benefit of an inn courtyard
-crowd. The maid gave the next tug and out<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>
-they came. Everybody reached forward a finger
-and a thumb to feel.</p>
-
-<p>Between the time of the discovery of the silk
-pajamas and their repacking&mdash;I cold-heartedly
-refused to exhibit a putting of them on&mdash;we rose
-from nobodies to persons of importance in Minakuchi.
-Even the mistress hinted that she had mentally
-recounted her space for guests and had
-thought of a luxurious corner of amply sufficient
-dimensions to spread two beds. There was, of
-course, no sane reason why we should not, then
-and there, have taken advantage of this altered
-atmosphere, but for me the inn had lost its savour.
-Anyone who has ever had some similar twist of
-psychology will appreciate the inside of my irrationalism.
-Others will not or cannot. I moved
-over to the ’rickshas. O-Owre-san remained lingering.
-He, too, had noted the change in the mistress’s
-attitude.</p>
-
-<p>“How about making one more overture?” he
-suggested.</p>
-
-<p>“Perhaps so,” I answered, “but don’t you feel
-that any experience which this inn might now hold
-for us would be an anti-climax after our present
-dramatic triumph?”</p>
-
-<p>O-Owre-san regretfully sniffed the fragrant
-steam drifting from the kitchen braziers.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“No, I decidedly don’t feel so,” said he, “but
-of course, if I have to save your dilettante soul
-from anti-climaxes, I suppose I can sleep in a rice
-field&mdash;but whatever you do, do it!”</p>
-
-<p>I threw our bags into the ’rickshas and we
-climbed in after them, and were off to the other
-inn.</p>
-
-<p>We made our impact against this objective
-much more catapultic. There was nothing tentative
-in our kicking off our shoes and getting well
-under the lintel before any mistress of authority
-could appear. Our onslaught paralysed the advance
-line of receiving maidens, and we settled
-down on the interior mats and assumed a contemplative
-calm. We continued to sit thus oblivious
-to the excitement heaped upon excitement. We
-were islands of fact in the midst of an ocean of
-conversation. After the ocean had dried up
-because none had words left, we were still obviously
-remaining, and there was nothing left to
-do but to make the best of us. A maid picked up
-our bags and bowed very low. She retreated
-toward the inner darkness and we followed, first
-along a corridor and then up a flight of railless
-stairs to a room open on two sides against a courtyard
-garden.</p>
-
-<p>To have been in harmony at all with the ancient<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span>
-traditions of the Tokaido, coolies should have
-been carrying our luggage in huge red and gold
-lacquered chests. The room to which we were
-taken would have been a room of dignity even
-for a <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja"><a id="a-daimyo" href="#daimyo">daimyo</a></i>. The maid placed our two dusty
-Occidental rucksacks on the shelf under the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kakemona</i>.
-Their very presence piped a chanty that
-our possessing that room was ironic comedy. We
-began to laugh. A <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja"><a id="a-ne-san" href="#ne-san">ne-san</a></i> is as ever ready to
-laugh as water is to flow, and with no other
-grand cause than just the doing. Our maid began
-laughing with us, and up the stairs came all the
-other maids in curiosity. Ensconced, their interest
-seemed permanent. Our vocabulary was very
-far from being sufficient to protect our Western
-prudery. As a last resort we took them by their
-shoulders and turned them around and urged
-them in this unsubtle manner from the door.</p>
-
-<p>I began undressing at one end of the room,
-leaving my garments in my wake as I rolled over
-the soft matting. When I reached the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kakemona</i>
-shelf, I slipped into my silk pajamas. When we
-went below to find the honourable bath we at least
-left the room looking not so bare as our meagre
-luggage had predicted.</p>
-
-<p>We returned from the bath and banked our
-cushions on the narrow balcony overhanging the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>
-garden. A slight breeze stirred the branches
-of the trees and started swinging the paper lanterns
-which hung over a stone fountain. Other
-guests of the inn had finished their dinners
-and it was their toothbrush hour. Dressed in
-their cotton <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kimonos</i> they stood bending over shining
-brass basins filled from the well fountain. It
-would probably be useless to ask any Occidental
-to imagine that the function of teeth cleansing
-with long, flexible handled brushes may be a
-social and picturesque addendum to garden life;
-we have too long looked upon ablutions as being
-merely necessitous.</p>
-
-<p>Dinner came. Whether strict philosophical
-truth lies in the belief that every sensation is
-unique, or whether in the contrary that no experience
-can be other than a repetition of some situation
-which has been staged over and over again
-in the turning of the cosmic wheel, I shall continue
-to maintain that a wanderer who has gone
-from half after four in the morning, fortified
-only by a mouthful of cold breakfast, until nine
-at night, and has walked something more than
-twenty-five miles under a hot sun, and has had
-one dinner snatched away from him, and then
-finds himself risen from a bath and sitting in the
-slow, warm, evening air in a room of simple harmony,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>
-and then a small lacquer table is placed
-before him with the alluring odours of five steaming
-dishes ascending to his nose&mdash;yes, I shall
-continue to maintain that such a wanderer has a
-human right to protest that such a situation is
-an event.</p>
-
-<p>They replenished the tables with second supplies
-of the first dishes and with first and second dishes
-of new courses. We had two kinds of soup and
-three varieties of fish; we had chicken and we
-had vegetables and boiled seaweed; and we finished
-with innumerable bowls of rice. At the
-end they brought iced water and tea and renewed
-the charcoal in the braziers for our smoking.
-The tobacco clouds drifted from our lips. Only
-one possible thought was worth putting into words
-and that was the request to have the beds laid.
-However, the evening was destined not for such
-sensuous oblivion.</p>
-
-<p>Breaking in upon this godly languor came a
-visitation by the entire family of the inn. The
-family particularly embraced in its intimacy also
-the maid-servants and the men-servants. Even
-the baby had been wakened to come. In the beginning
-O-Owre-san offered cigarettes in lieu of
-conversation and I thumbed the dictionary for
-compliments for the baby. The blue-bound book<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span>
-of phrases proved to be rich in fitting adjectives,
-and my efforts were rewarded with sufficient approval
-to encourage us to go on with a search
-for compliments for mother and father and all the
-others. The baby crawled forward inch by inch
-until one of the strange foreign giants courageously
-picked it up. Our guests had first sat in a
-very formal half-circle, but under the expansiveness
-of growing goodwill the line was breaking.</p>
-
-<p>It was a night, however, of many visitations.
-Hardly had we, as hosts, with the aid of the baby,
-carried the attack with some success against rigid
-self-consciousness when there came the sound of
-a step on the stair. Immediately the mood of
-laughter changed to one of marked quietness
-and expectancy. The circle readjusted itself.
-The mother snatched back the baby and by some
-technic ended its expressions of curiosity and reduced
-it, as only a Japanese baby can be reduced,
-to a pair of staring eyes. We sat waiting the
-coming of the intruder. The <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">ne-sans</i> bowed their
-heads to the floor.</p>
-
-<p>The awaited one was a tall young man, with
-round, pinkish, glistening limbs, and a round face.
-He dropped heavily to his knees and bent over
-until his forehead touched the mat, continuing this
-salutation for some time. Then he sat up smiling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span>
-and satisfied. He had brought with him
-three or four foreign books and he was, without
-need of introduction, the village scholar, Minakuchi’s
-representative of modernity, a precious and
-honoured cabinet of wisdom newly come home
-from the University. After his smiling expansion
-he next composed his features to solemnity. He
-adjusted his <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kimono</i> taut over his knees. Then
-he waited until the last quiver in his audience
-succumbed into the extreme quietude of painful
-tension. Even the breeze lulled. He spoke:</p>
-
-<p>“I&mdash;am&mdash;in&mdash;this&mdash;room!”</p>
-
-<p>The heads of the circle nodded and renodded
-to each other. What had the foreigners to answer
-to that?</p>
-
-<p>We tried to express a proper appreciation.</p>
-
-<p>“It&mdash;is&mdash;cold&mdash;to-day&mdash;but&mdash;it&mdash;was&mdash;raining&mdash;yesterday.”</p>
-
-<p>An opinion about temperature is more or less a
-personal judgment, but the falling of raindrops
-is a material fact. On the yesterday it had not
-rained.</p>
-
-<p>This time the circle could not restrain itself but
-sighed with positive and audible contentment. Minakuchi
-had been vindicated. If the audience
-showed content with its spokesman, it was as nothing
-compared to his own contentment. The artist<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>
-in tongues now opened his books with a business-like
-air and put on his spectacles. His visit was
-not, then, purely social. The sentences which
-followed were, as nearly as we could determine,
-questions to us. They came, a word at a time,
-out of his dictionary. The conventions of speech
-which the Japanese employ in polite inquiry have
-been moulded by symbolism, mysticism, and analogy
-into phrases most remote from the original
-rudiment. A word by word translation into English
-carries no meaning whatsoever. We answered
-by: “Oh, yes, yes,&mdash;of course.”</p>
-
-<p>The baby was growing restless. The scholar
-took in this sign from the corner of his eye. His
-dramatic sense was keen. He had no intention
-that his audience should become bored and he
-snapped shut the books with the pronounced
-meaning that everything had been settled as far
-as he was concerned. Then he clapped his hands
-loudly. Instantly from below came more footsteps
-and a clank-clanking of metal on wood, and
-in a moment into the room walked an officer of the
-police. His heavy dress uniform was white, with
-gold braid twisting round and about the sleeves
-and shoulders. His sword, the secret of the rhythmic
-clanking, was almost as tall as himself. He
-faced us rigidly and without a smile, then slowly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span>
-sank to his knees and dropped his head to the mat.
-I have faith that that man, without an extra heart-beat,
-would have joined a sure death charge across
-a battlefield, but his present duty brought the
-red blush of painful embarrassment to his olive
-skin from the edge of his tight collar to the fringe
-of his black hair. He was silently and perspiringly
-suffering in the cause of duty&mdash;but what
-was his duty?</p>
-
-<p>I do not know just how we gained the idea, if
-it were not through telepathy, but we decided that
-he was discounting the abilities of the interpreter
-down to an extreme minimum, although he listened
-attentively enough to some long statement.
-After the explanation, which seemingly concerned
-us, the youth arose and with much dignity withdrew
-from the room followed by many expressions
-of appreciation from the inn family. Every
-one of us who had been left behind, except the
-baby who had gone to sleep, now waited for some
-continuance of the drama, but nothing proceeded
-to materialize. I grew so sleepy that if the policeman
-had suddenly said that we were to be
-executed at sunrise the most interesting part of
-the information would have been the finding out
-whether we could sleep until that hour. As I
-did not know how polite it might be to say that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span>
-<em>we</em> were tired, I found a phrase, “<em>You</em> must be
-very tired,” to which I linked, “therefore <em>we</em> shall
-go to bed.”</p>
-
-<p>This veiled ultimatum was as graciously accepted
-as if they had been waiting those exact
-words to free them to go their way. The <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">ne-sans</i>
-ran for mattresses and prepared the beds. Then
-they hung the great mosquito netting. After that
-we all said our good-nights, all except the police
-official who, image like, remained sitting against
-the wall.</p>
-
-<p>By earnest beseeching we had persuaded the
-maids not to close the wooden <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja"><a id="a-shogi" href="#shogi">shogi</a></i> around the
-balcony. Thus, when we turned out the lamp and
-stretched out on our beds, the starlight came in.
-It shone on the white uniform. I had never happened
-to have the experience of going to sleep
-under the eye of a policeman but realism proved
-that practice was unnecessary. Sinking to oblivion
-was as positive as a plunge. The vast embracing
-fluid of rest closed in over my head.</p>
-
-<p>I was dreamless until I awoke under a sudden,
-crushing nightmare. I thought that an army of
-white and gold uniforms had mobilized and was
-tramping over my chest, taking care that every
-heel should fall pitilessly. The one policeman who
-existed in reality had been trying to wake me up<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span>
-and he had evidently had a task, but as soon as
-he was sure that my eyes were open to stay he
-forwent further assault. He had lighted the lamp
-and I could see back of him a naked coolie, convulsively
-gasping for breath. The man was carrying
-an envelope. The officer took the envelope
-and then sent him off. He reeled to the stairs
-holding his panting sides. The officer then took
-out a sheet of paper and handed it to me. The
-page was written in modified English but was quite
-intelligible. While the sentences were nothing
-more than a series of questions, at the same time
-they gave a clue to the mystery of the evening.</p>
-
-<p>Our inn-keeper had had the inspiration to call
-upon the scholar-interpreter to ask us the questions
-which all travellers must answer for the police
-record in every town where a stop is made for the
-night. We had been correct about there being one
-doubter in Minakuchi of the ability of the interpreter.
-In a plot for his own amusement the police
-officer had sent a runner to a neighbouring
-town to have the conventional list of questions
-translated into English, and thus to compare our
-written answers with the answers given him by
-the youth. There they were, the questions: who
-were we&mdash;how old&mdash;profession&mdash;antecedents
-whence and whither. If one is tempted into wayward<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span>
-rebellion against such minuteness of interrogation,
-it is wise to remember that the claim
-of a sense of humour may be considered very
-poor testimony in a Japanese court perchance
-misunderstandings at any time arise and the
-answers in the police records have to be
-looked up.</p>
-
-<p>I wrote out the answers. With no one in the
-room as a witness except ourselves, the officer
-allowed a twinkle to come into his eye. He even
-winked and pointed to where the youth had sat.
-Then he shut up the paper in his register and
-blew out the light and clanked off down the stairs.
-Again we slept.</p>
-
-<p>The etiquette of an inn is that all crude appearance
-of hurry should be avoided by waiting
-in one’s room in the morning for one’s bill. The
-Japanese do not travel hurriedly; if they wish
-an early start they get up proportionately in
-time. We had asked for an early breakfast and
-it had been served at the hour which we had
-named. We had happened to have good intentions
-about not rushing. Nevertheless, of course,
-we fell into an inevitable hurry. After breakfast
-I had been so interested in sitting on our balcony
-watching the waking up of the day that I forgot
-to pack my rucksack. O-Owre-san said that he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span>
-would pay the bill downstairs and wait at the
-door.</p>
-
-<p>When I arrived under the lintel where we
-had left our shoes I felt as if I were intruding.
-The bearded foreigner was surrounded by the
-inn family and each member was handing him a
-present. There were blue and white Japanese
-towels folded into decorated envelopes, and there
-were fans and postcards. The cost of the gift
-fans may have been little but the maker had taken
-his designs from models of the best tradition,
-and the fans to be found for sale are not comparable.</p>
-
-<p>The daughters of the house walked with us
-until we came to the Tokaido and then they
-pointed out our direction and stood waving farewells
-until we could see them no longer. I waited
-until then before making inquiry about the
-amount of the bill. This detail was a matter of
-distinct importance. When we met in Kyoto
-we pooled our purses and the common fund was
-entrusted to O-Owre-san’s care. Neither of us
-had made much effort to acquire theoretical information
-about what daily expenses might be.
-We had just so much paint with which to cover
-the surface of the definite number of days before
-our steamer would carry us away, and this meant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span>
-that we would have to mix thick or thin accordingly.
-Experience only could teach us what items
-we could afford and what bargains we should have
-to make. I thus awaited the answer about the
-bill with flattering attention.</p>
-
-<p>“The bill, including extras for iced water and
-cigarettes and getting our special dinner after
-every one else had finished,” said the treasurer with
-appropriate solemnity, “was three <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja"><a id="a-yen" href="#yen">yen</a></i>.” (A <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">yen</i>
-is about fifty cents.) “And,” he concluded, “I
-gave a full <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">yen</i> for the tea-money tip.”</p>
-
-<p>We waited until we sat down for the first rest
-before we attempted a practical financial forecast.
-We divided the number of remaining days
-into the sum of the paper notes carried in a linen
-envelope. The answer quieted our fears and exceeded
-our hopes. Putting aside a reserve for
-extra occasions, beyond our inn bills we would
-be able to afford the luxury of spending along
-the road twenty-five cents a day for tea, tobacco,
-and chemical lemonade.</p>
-
-<div id="Ref_48" class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
-<img src="images/i051.jpg" width="600" height="497" alt="" />
-<div class="caption"><p class="center">THE FIRST REST SPOT OF THE SECOND DAY</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>There is something unnatural in such simplicity
-of finance, as anyone must agree who believes at
-all in the jealousy of the gods. I should have
-been forewarned by an old Chinese tale that I
-had been told only a fortnight before. It was
-while sitting in a Peking restaurant. The teller<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>
-was a most revolutionary son of a most conservative
-mandarin. A peasant once entertained a god
-unawares. In the morning the god told the peasant
-that any wish which he might name would
-be granted, be it for riches, or power, or even
-the most beautiful maid in all the dragon kingdom
-to be his wife. But the peasant asked that
-he might only be assured that until the end of
-his days he need never doubt when hungry that
-he would have food, and at the fall of night that
-he would find a pillow on which to lay his head.
-The god looked at him sorrowfully and said:
-“Alas! You have asked the impossible. Such
-favours are reserved for the gods alone.”</p>
-
-<p>We got up from our figuring blithely, indulging
-ourselves in the idea that we could achieve
-such evenness of expenditure. Think what an
-upsetting of ponderous economics and competitive
-jungle law there would be if the world could
-and should abruptly take any such consideration
-of its wealth!</p>
-
-<p>The payer of the bill had also added that he
-had given a full <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">yen</i> for the tea-money tip. In
-those large areas of Japan where the barbarous
-foreigner has not yet intruded with his indiscriminate
-giving, there is to be found the ancient
-system of tea-money. The tea-money custom is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span>
-founded on the belief that the wayfarer is the
-personal guest of the host. When the guest
-departs he is not paying a bill, he is making a
-present, and to this sum he adds from a quarter
-to a third part extra. This extra payment is
-the tea-money and is to be divided by the host
-among the servants. The departing guest is then
-given a present. All in all, leave taking is a
-function.</p>
-
-<p>A guest does not ask nor demand. He offers
-a request and thereby confers a supreme favour
-upon any servant fortunate enough to be designated.
-All this pleasant service has not the embarrassment
-that one must confine a request to
-any particular maid so as to escape the necessity
-of widespread tipping at departure. It is all
-in the tea-money.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub-->
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2>III<br />
-<span class="titlefont">“I HAVE EATEN OF THE FURNACE OF HADES”</span></h2>
-
-<p class="center" style="margin-left:9em; margin-top:-1em; margin-bottom:1.5em">Vol. I, Sect. IX. The “Ko-Ji-Ki”</p>
-
-
-<p>A very famous book in Japan is named the
-“Ko-Ji-Ki,” and the word means “A Record
-of Ancient Matters.” We thought on our second
-morning as we walked through the hills that if
-there should happen to be a modern chronologist
-recording a present-time Ko-Ji-Ki those
-hours of the sun’s approaching meridian would
-be entered without dispute as The-Forever-Famous-Never-To-Be-Equalled-Day-Of-Fire.
-In
-the valleys there was no breeze; on the summits
-there was no shade; and everywhere it seemed
-probable that on the next instant the road would
-blister into molten heat bubbles under our feet.
-However&mdash;to anticipate&mdash;if such a postulated
-chronicler had so styled that second day of our
-walking as one without chance of peer among
-historical days of heat, on the very next following
-day he would have had to turn back to cross
-out his lines. In the burning glare of the rice
-fields, anything that had gone before was so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span>
-easily surpassed that we forever lost belief in
-maximums, unless indeed kinetic energy might
-continue on such a wild rampage of vibration
-that it would shake itself completely out of
-existence.</p>
-
-<p>Our first rest of the second day, as I said,
-was devoted to the arithmetic of finance. At
-that early hour the dew was not yet off the
-grass, but when we began planning for another
-rest the world had grown parched. Looking
-about for some possible spot we saw through
-the trees the roof of a small temple. We halted
-at the entrance and tried to push open the gate.
-It would not move. It was nailed to the ribs
-of the fence, but the gate was low enough to be
-vaulted. Our feet fell on the ghost of a path
-that had once led to the shrine. Harsh brambles
-and weeds had fought for the possession of the
-path until they had almost conquered the flaggings.
-If we thought at all we thought that
-that particular walk must have been abandoned
-for some other entrance and as the scratches
-were not very serious we pushed our way through
-until at last we stepped forth into the temple
-yard. Not a sign of caretaking devotion was
-anywhere in evidence nor was there a nodding
-priest sitting in the temple door.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Sometimes the Chinese desert their temples
-but, when incense is no longer burned before an
-altar, celestial practical sense leaves little that is
-movable behind. We slowly walked up the
-steps to the door, expecting to find the temple
-rifled. The door was sealed by spiders’ webs.
-We then walked around the balcony and peered
-through the wide cracks in the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">shogi</i>. No fingers
-of man had rummaged there since the priests
-had said the last mass, but the fingers of decay
-had been busily working. The rotted fabrics
-hung down from the altars of the shrines and
-the ashes of the incense in the bronze bowls was
-hidden by the blacker dust which the wind had
-carried through the shutters. Surely we were
-the first intruders to step upon the balcony since
-the gate had been swung to and nailed.</p>
-
-<p>We walked around the corners until we had
-seen everything that there was to see and then
-we jumped down to a grassy slope on the shady
-side of the temple and stretched ourselves out
-in relaxation. It was very quiet. As I knew
-O-Owre-san could sleep for ten minutes and
-then wake up to the instant, I closed one eye
-and then the other. They both came open together.
-I had felt a soft dragging across my
-ankles and I raised my head to see a very thin,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>
-long, green and grey snake raising its head up
-between my feet to stare into my face. After
-a beady inspection it wriggled away with slow
-undulations into the grass. And then, from the
-spot where that snake had taken passage over
-my ankles, came the head of another. I jerked
-my feet up under me.</p>
-
-<p>The instant before there had been an oppressive
-quietness. The silence had been so supreme that
-we ourselves had scarcely spoken. Now there
-was a vast hurrying of little noises. Lizards
-ran along the rafters under the roof and dropped
-down the wall, as lizards do, to flatten themselves
-away into corners. Huge buzzing flies rose from
-the surface of the pond and bumped against us
-aimlessly. Mosquitoes came from the shadows.
-I had thrown my helmet on the grass. I picked
-it up to find it beset with ants. I tried to beat
-them out of the lining by pounding the hat
-against the side of the temple. The effort broke
-loose a roach infested board.</p>
-
-<p>We grinned at each other a little shamefacedly
-when we were safely out into the sunshine of the
-highroad. We had not stayed to argue in the
-temple yard. As we stood thus vanquished and
-ejected, two peasants came passing by. They
-looked at us, then glanced hurriedly at the temple<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>
-roof above the low trees, and then eyed us again.
-They mumbled a word or two. Perhaps they
-were trying to tell us that an accursed goblin
-had stolen over their shrine to be the abode of
-insects and crawling things. I was not so sure
-that I had not seen the glowing eyes of a goblin
-staring malevolently at us from the cracks of
-the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">shogi</i> when I turned to look back over my
-shoulder as we fled.</p>
-
-<p>For a long way my blood welcomed the sun.
-The road led down into a broad valley to become
-later little more than an interminable bridge
-across the terraced paddy fields. The rice had
-sprouted but had not grown rank enough to
-block the mirror surface of the water from throwing
-back the heat rays. Ahead were low-lying
-hills with higher slopes beyond and from the map
-we thought that over that barrier would be the
-broad plain across which we would find the road
-leading straight to Nagoya.</p>
-
-<p>There was one ambition to luxury which we
-always possessed&mdash;when we chose a rest spot we
-wished one of comfort and, if it could be included,
-also that it should have a view. Curiously,
-owners of land do not seem to endeavour to
-provide such rest places for sensitive travellers,
-at least to be obtrusive at any exact second when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span>
-desired. We had taken seven or eight miles
-across the valley at an unusually accelerated pace
-since our last attempt at a rest. Messages from
-the cords of our legs were telling us to concede
-some compromise to our particularity. However,
-we continued walking and searching without paying
-attention to the messages. The grass patches
-always disclosed little ant hills upon close inspection
-and the occasional heaps of stones to be
-found were never under the shade. That obstinacy
-of ours was of the stuff ambition should be,
-and finally its persistency met due reward. We
-found a wide, shady platform built against a
-long building, half house, half granary. The
-building flanked the road at a bend and as we
-made the turn we could see the family of the
-house lying on the floor. An old man was telling
-an elaborate story and his listeners were so
-intent upon the tale that none of them happened
-to look up to see us. The platform was
-out of their vision and we thought that we
-might rest there with the comfortable feeling
-that trespassing does not exist unless discovered.</p>
-
-<p>The tale that was being told was undoubtedly
-humorous. The daughters of the family were
-hard struggling with laughter. The men were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span>
-emphasizing their approval by pounding on the
-rim of the charcoal brazier with their iron pipes.
-All were repeating a continuous <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja"><a id="a-hei" href="#hei">hei</a></i>, <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">hei</i>. But
-there was a baby, and the baby was not so much
-interested in the story as he was in a butterfly.
-He suddenly betook himself to his dimpled legs
-and circled into the road in pursuit. The whims
-of the gyrations of the mighty hunter carried
-him to a spot where the next turn left him facing
-two foreigners on the platform. He stood with
-feet apart and carefully lifted the corner of his
-diminutive shirt to his mouth for more careful
-cogitation, as any Japanese child should and
-does do when confronted by a kink in the well-ordered
-running of affairs.</p>
-
-<p>The mother called out an admonition but there
-was no response from the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja"><a id="a-akambo" href="#akambo">akambo</a></i>. She left the
-story to find out what might be the enchantment.
-She, too, began staring without responding to
-admonitions. Another head bobbed around the
-corner post and then another and another until
-finally the teller of the tale himself forsook the
-realm of fancy for fact and followed after his
-audience. We said “<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja"><a id="a-o-hayo" href="#o-hayo">O-hayo</a>!</i>”&mdash;which is good-morning&mdash;and
-they said “<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">O-hayo!</i>” After that
-their rigid attention included everything from
-our hats to our boots. Then in a body they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span>
-walked back into the house and were quiet except
-for the most hushed of whispers.</p>
-
-<p>“Two trespassing strangers are about to receive
-some mark of respect,” said O-Owre-san.</p>
-
-<p>“Respect of being told to move on, most
-likely,” was my more worldly judgment.</p>
-
-<p>“How about betting a foreign dinner to be
-paid in Yokohama before the boat sails?” asked
-O-Owre-san.</p>
-
-<p>I took the wager, and lost.</p>
-
-<p>The old man who had been the teller of the
-story now reappeared. He was somewhat embarrassed
-but at each step of his approach he
-had a still broader smile. He was short and
-he was thin, with lean, knotted muscles. His
-limbs had grown clumsy from heavy toil.
-His face was squat as if in his malleable infancy
-some evil hand had pressed his forehead down
-against his chin. One piece of cloth saved him
-from nudity. He was a coolie of generations
-of coolies, but despite his embarrassment and
-despite his clumsy limbs, the very spirit of graciousness
-created a certain grace as he placed
-a tray before us. He backed away with low
-bow succeeding low bow. The tray held a pot
-of tea and two cups and some thin rice cakes.</p>
-
-<p>Good man, he fortunately never knew what<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>
-an argument his gift precipitated! My opponent
-began it all by suggesting that we leave a
-twenty <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja"><a id="a-sen" href="#sen">sen</a></i> silver piece on the tray. I disputed.</p>
-
-<p>“A cup of tea is of such slight cost to the
-giver,” was my eloquent and disputatious argument,
-“that by being of no price it becomes
-priceless and thus is a perfect symbol of a complete
-gift in an imperfect world. Japan has this
-tradition which we have lost in our own civilization.
-This simplicity allows the poorest and
-humblest to give a gift to the richest and
-mightiest in the purity of hospitality. If we
-leave money on the tray we are robbing the
-peasant of his privilege.”</p>
-
-<p>O-Owre-san would have none of my transcendentalism.
-“By leaving money,” said he, “a sum
-which means no more to us than does the cup
-of tea to the peasant, we are making an exchange
-of gifts. We know that he is very poor. Twenty
-<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">sen</i> is probably more than the return for two
-days of his labour. It will buy him a pair of
-wooden <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja"><a id="a-geta" href="#geta">geta</a></i> or a new pipe, or a bamboo umbrella
-for his wife, or such a toy for the baby as it
-has never dreamed of. After giving our gift
-we shall disappear down the road, leaving the
-memory of two ugly but generous foreign devils.”</p>
-
-<p>There was no dispute between us about wishing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span>
-to leave some gift. The final compromise
-was somewhat on my side as we gave a package
-of chocolate to the child. We carried the chocolate
-for emergency’s sake and it had cost several
-times twenty <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">sen</i>. I do not believe that Japanese
-children like chocolate and there was more than
-a possibility that this highly condensed brand
-would make the baby ill. Surely the deposed
-gods of the ancient Tokaido must have made
-merry if the news of our analytics was carried
-to their Valhalla. Nevertheless our present,
-wrapped in a square of white paper according
-to the etiquette of gifts, was received by the
-family with as many protestations of appreciation
-as if we had handed them a deed to perpetual
-prosperity.</p>
-
-<p>The rays of the forenoon’s sun when we were
-crossing the valley of the rice fields had sent up
-heat waves from the dust of the road until the
-road itself seemed to me to have a quaking pitch
-and roll. We were now in the full glory of the
-noontide. I was becoming somewhat disturbed
-over certain phenomena. Trees and rocks and
-houses fell into the dance of the heat waves with
-an undignified stagger. Sometimes the bushy
-trees reeled away in twos and threes where but
-a moment before I had seen but one. The most<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span>
-disconcerting part of the development was my
-peculiar impersonal interest and study of my
-own distress. I knew that my eyes were aching
-and I knew that the trees were really standing
-still. I had the perfect duality of being fascinated
-by the day and thus not wishing to be
-any place else in the world and yet, as I said,
-of being extremely disturbed by the preliminary
-overtures of a sunstroke. We had had about
-two hours of climbing since we left the house
-of the rice farmer and we were on the summit
-of the last high hills. Immediately ahead the
-rocky path dropped sharply down into the plain.
-A rest-house marked the point where the climbing
-changed to the descent. I suggested a halt.</p>
-
-<p>The rest-house was more than a peasant’s hut.
-It was easy to believe that in more aristocratic
-days it had been an inn of some pretension.
-Now it was a spot for weary coolies to throw
-down their heavy packs for a few minutes’ rest
-in its shade by day or by night to curl up on
-the worn mats. We walked into the deepest
-recess of the entrance before we sat down. I
-could look beyond a half-folded screen into the
-kitchen. The polished copper pots and the iron
-and bronze bowls were not of this generation;
-probably to-morrow’s will find them on a museum<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span>
-shelf or cherished in some antique shop. However,
-I had no desire to discover curios nor did
-I have any preference whether the inn was old
-or new, nor whether it had been its fortune to
-entertain <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">daimyos</i> or pariahs. We first asked
-for something to drink. The hostess dragged
-up a bucket from the well and brought us bottles
-of <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">ramune</i> which had been cooling in the depths.
-I drank the carbonated stuff and then pushed
-my rucksack back along the mat for a pillow
-and closed my eyes for a half-hour’s blissful
-forgetfulness. When I awoke the throbbing
-under my eyelids had passed away and for the
-first time I really looked at our hostess. She
-was kneeling beside us and was slowly fanning
-our faces.</p>
-
-<p>Her teeth were painted black, as was once the
-fashion for married women. She had known both
-toil and poverty, but it was not a peasant’s face
-into which I looked. Her thin fingers and
-wasted forearms found repose in the lines which
-the ancient artists were wont to copy from the
-grace of Old Japan. Her calm face was
-beautiful.</p>
-
-<p>It was time that we should make our way
-down the rocky path. She brought us tea before
-we went. The bill for everything, as I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span>
-remember, was about seven cents. We left a
-silver coin beside the teapot. She began to tell
-us that we had made a mistake. We told her no.
-Shielded by an unworldly, intangible delicacy,
-I doubt whether any rudeness of her guests ever
-became sufficiently real to her to disturb her
-passivity or her emotions, but such a guardianship
-presents a thin callous against sympathy.
-As we said good-bye a sudden sense of human
-mutuality smote the three of us, an experience
-of sheer bridging-over intuition which sometimes
-comes for a second.</p>
-
-<p>The absolute relaxation had so marvellously
-driven out the devils from my eyes that I did
-not even tell O-Owre-san of my hallucinations.
-To make up for our lingering we pushed on
-through the villages without stopping to wander
-into temple grounds or to explore by-ways.
-Between a misreckoning of miles on our part
-and some misinformation which I gathered from
-a peasant, we reached the rather large town of
-Siki an hour earlier than we had hoped. As we
-strolled through the main street, we saw several
-inns which might well have given us comfortable
-shelter, but I sensed that the traveller at my side
-was waiting for some bubbling of inspiration.
-I kept silent, an expiation for having carried<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>
-a disproportionate number of points that day.
-We continued walking. I could see the fringe
-of the first rice field ahead. My faith was beginning
-to waver but before I erred by showing it
-O-Owre-san stopped abruptly and inquired the
-Japanese word for inn. He then asked for one
-or two other words and adjectives. Thus armed
-he stepped into a shop, the appearance of which
-had perhaps been the stimulus to his inspiration.</p>
-
-<p>The shop had glass windows and a glass door.
-It was the most metropolitan example of commercial
-progressiveness which we had seen since
-we left Kyoto. In fact, compared to the other
-shops of Siki it had as haughty an exclusiveness
-as any portal along New Bond Street seeks to
-maintain over possible rivals. Looking through
-the glass of the door we discovered that the floor
-was not covered with matting. Such a last touch
-of foreignism meant that one could walk in without
-taking off one’s dusty boots. I do not remember
-that we ever again found this detail of
-Western culture outside the port cities. In the
-heart of the most isolated mountain range the
-most lonesome charcoal burner knows three
-things about the foreigner: that he is hairy like
-the red fox; that he has a curious and barbarous<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span>
-custom known as kissing; that his boots are part
-of his feet.</p>
-
-<p>Into this shop, then, O-Owre-san walked without
-having to undo his bootlaces. There was
-also an aristocratic glass counter and under the
-glass, in show trays, were gold watches. Behind
-this counter sat a young man in a <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kimono</i> of black
-silk. His face was pale, ascetic, and contemplative.
-He smiled and bowed in formal hospitality.
-The grace of such a bow comes from centuries
-of saying <em>yes</em> instead of <em>no</em>. A cultured Japanese,
-almost any Japanese, never flatly contradicts
-unless to deny another’s self-derogatory statement.
-The <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja"><a id="a-iiye" href="#iiye">iiye</a></i> (used as “no”) is rarely heard
-and the carrying over of the omnibus <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">hei</i>, <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">hei</i>, or
-the more polite <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja"><a id="a-sayo" href="#sayo">sayo</a></i>, into the English <em>yes</em> often
-brings consternation to the Westerner seeking
-accurate information.</p>
-
-<p>O-Owre-san said, “Please, good inn” (directly
-translated). As if the pale and ascetic seller
-of gold watches was accustomed daily to having
-perspiring foreigners with packs on their backs
-inquire for this information, he bowed again and
-smiled and said, “<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">Hei</i>, <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">hei!</i>” This time the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">hei</i>,
-<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">hei</i> did mean yes. He drew his <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kimono</i> tighter
-about his hips and adjusted his silken <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja"><a id="a-obi" href="#obi">obi</a></i>, and
-walked out of the shop with us. Apologizing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>
-for the necessity of going before, he piloted us
-through turns of the street to the gateway of
-an inn. Calling for the mistress he made a
-dignified oration of introduction, and backed
-away from our sight with innumerable appreciations
-for the honour of being asked to be of
-service.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub-->
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2>IV<br />
-<span class="titlefont">THE MILES OF THE RICE PLAINS</span></h2>
-
-
-<p>The experiences of the second of our Japanese
-Nights’ Entertainments were as impersonal, as
-far as the inn’s paying special attention to us
-was concerned, as the first evening’s had not
-been. The police record was brought to us with
-an English translation of the questions and we
-wrote the answers without complication. The
-incidents which may develop in one inn quite
-naturally have a wide variation from the happenings
-which may arise in another, but the general
-machinery of hospitality differs but little. There
-is, in fact, far less contrast in the essentials of
-comfort between the ordinary provincial inn and
-the native hotels of the first order in Tokyo or
-Kyoto than there is to be found in a like comparison
-of hotels in our civilization; even it might
-be said that the simple and fundamental artistry
-of the shelter which houses the peasant in Japan
-has in its possession the root forms of the taste
-which charms in the homes of the cultured.</p>
-
-<p>Immediately after we had applied ourselves<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span>
-to the police record and had had our steaming
-hot bath, a <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">ne-san</i> brought the small dinner tables.
-If ever this particular maid had enjoyed the
-frivolity of laughter for laughter’s sake, she had
-long since banished any such promotion of irresponsible
-dimples from the corners of her mouth,
-although it should be stated that she was far
-from having arrived at an age to provoke a solemn
-and serious outlook upon life. Her eyes
-wandered up to the ceiling and around the edges.
-She was bored. Furthermore she appeared distressed
-at having to witness the table errors of
-ignorant foreigners. We insulted the honourable
-rice by heaping sugar upon it and we drank
-cold water when we should have sipped tea. We
-asked for a few extras to the menu. She repeated
-over our words, caught in amazement
-that we could change the barking sounds through
-which we found communication with each other
-into the music of <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">Nihon</i> speech. We asked if
-she were not afraid of barbarous foreigners, but
-she rather contemptuously rejoined that she could
-see no reason for being afraid in the shelter of
-her own inn. I then concocted from the dictionary
-an elaborate sentence which asked whether
-her expectation of how fearsome a foreigner might
-be was excelled by the examples in flesh and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span>
-blood before her. The truth of her obvious conviction
-and the sense of required politeness of
-hospitality struggled each for utterance with such
-disconcerting effect that she used her turned-in
-toes to patter away down the flight of stairs and
-we saw our disapprover not again until she came
-to spread the beds.</p>
-
-<p>We had planned to explore the shops of Siki
-by lantern light after dinner but the two beds
-so aggressively allured us that we never stepped
-over them. The coverings were the usual heavy
-quilts buttoned into sheets. Such a combination
-coverlet is generally long enough for the foreign
-sleeper as the Japanese habit on cold nights is
-to disappear completely under the layer, but at
-the inn in Siki for some reason the length was
-decidedly curtailed and the mattresses were correspondingly
-short. However, at the end of such
-a day of fire as we had had I was contemptuous
-of such limitations. I expected to sleep on the
-quilt and not under it.</p>
-
-<p>For an hour, covered only by my cotton
-<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kimono</i>, I knew the comfort of airy rest. Then
-I awoke to a sensation I had almost forgotten.
-I was chilled through. I entered upon a campaign
-of trying to get back to sleep by wrapping
-the abbreviated quilt about my shoulders. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>
-far from satisfactory result was that my legs
-were left dangling in the chill drafts while the
-protected upper surfaces melted. Next I essayed
-a system of sliding the quilt up and down, executing
-retreats from too copious perspiration.
-This procedure met with some success but the
-required watchfulness was hardly a soporific. I
-called myself a tenderfoot. Some slight appreciation
-of how ridiculous it all was destroyed any
-high tragedy of self-sympathy but it could not
-keep me from loathing O-Owre-san for breathing
-so tranquilly. Finally I got up, determined to
-force my ingenuity to find some balance between
-such excesses. Then I saw that O-Owre-san’s
-eyes were wide open.</p>
-
-<p>I know not what the temperature of that room
-was in actual Fahrenheit degrees, but too many
-truth-tellers have secretly confided to me that they
-have found just such uncanny nights in Japan
-to disbelieve that the midnight “Hour of the
-Rat” has not at times a malignancy independent
-of mere thermometer readings. That night was
-neither cold nor hot; it was both and it was both
-at the same instant. My skin had been flushed
-to a mild fever from its long bath in the sun’s
-rays, but the flesh beneath now grew iced when
-not swaddled beneath the furnace of the quilt.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span>
-My inspiration, after sitting for a time and
-studying all the possible materials in the room,
-was to build a tent. I was so successful that
-I hurled a defiance at the “Hour of the Rat,”
-and for another half-hour&mdash;perhaps it was&mdash;I
-again knew the positiveness of sleep.</p>
-
-<p>The Japanese believe that they are a silent
-people. That faith is one of the supreme misbeliefs
-of the world. Before dinner, when we
-were sitting on our narrow balcony, we had said
-good-evening to a circle of young men who were
-lounging on cushions in the large room next to
-ours. Later they dressed and went out and we
-forgot them. I awoke to hear through the thin
-wall that they had returned. They were holding
-a Japanese conversation. Such a conversation
-can only be described by telling what it is not.
-In rhythm it is neither the cæsura of the French
-peasant woman retailing gossip, nor is it the
-eluding tempo-harmonic tune of the Red Indian
-drum beat; it is not the Chinese intoning nor
-is it a staccato. At first the foreign ear does
-not distinguish the beat of the cadences but once
-captured the appreciation of the subtle metrical
-wave is never again lost. We had the opportunity
-of full orientation that night. The paper
-wall was but a second tympan to our ears.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Their conversation as an entity was a musical
-composition effected without counterpoint and
-played by the instruments in succession. First
-there was a swing of phrases from one speaker,
-and then after a decorous and proper dramatic
-pause there was an answering swing from another.
-No speaker was interrupted. The right
-of reply was passed about as if it were as physically
-tangible as a loving cup.</p>
-
-<p>There was one distinct suggestion from the
-monotony of it all above every other impression,
-a something absolutely alien to any Occidental
-conversation. While they talked and drank tea
-and drank tea and talked, I twisted about under
-my tent puzzled to solve what that impression
-was. Suddenly I found words to express to myself
-the sought-for revelation. The effect of a
-long Japanese conversation is that of <em>voiceful
-contemplation</em>. Separated from them physically
-only by a paper wall, we belonged to another
-world, a world which has ordered its existence
-without finding contemplation and its manifestations
-a necessary adjunct.</p>
-
-<p>The mosquitoes, which all night had kept up
-a noisy circling over our net, flew off at daybreak.
-Some speaker spoke the concluding word
-in the next room and for a few minutes the universe<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span>
-was quiet. Then came the high shrieking
-of the ungreased axles of coolie carts being
-dragged to the rice fields. I took my quilt and
-cushions out onto the balcony. The inn began
-waking up. Down in the garden two kitchen
-maids appeared. They were arousing their energy
-by dipping their faces into brass basins of
-cold well water. I left my balcony and wandered
-below to find a basin for myself.</p>
-
-<p>The inn had filled during the night with guests
-of all descriptions and ranks. They were coming
-forth from under their quilts. A <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">ne-san</i> stepped
-to the wellside and filled a basin for me and then
-ran off to find a gift toothbrush. Another maid,
-lazily binding on her <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">obi</i>, stayed her dressing for
-a moment to pour cool water from a wooden
-dipper over my head and neck. Getting up o’
-the morning is a social cooperation in a Japanese
-inn.</p>
-
-<p>Breakfast came. After breakfast I sat down
-on the balcony cushions to smoke and to breathe
-the delicious morning air and I promptly went
-to sleep. I wished to go on sleeping forever and
-to let the world work, or walk, or talk, or do
-anything it might choose to do, but O-Owre-san
-appeared, saying that he had paid the bill. He
-had stuffed our presents into his rucksacks and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span>
-had had the dramatic farewells to himself. After
-one has accepted a going-away present, one goes.
-Tense good-byes do not brook recapture. The
-super-wanderer is thus forbidden ever to retrace
-his steps. For him alone, his life being always
-the anticipation of the next note of the magic
-flute, does the present become real by eternally
-existing as a becoming. He will not pay the
-price for contentment, which is to re-live and rethink
-the past.</p>
-
-<p>When we at length reached Nagoya, where
-the government bureau records temperatures
-scientifically, we learned that the week had been
-really one of extraordinary heat. Among other
-symptoms of the week, deranged livers and
-prickly irritation had inspired angry letters in
-the readers’ columns of the foreign newspapers,
-belabouring everything native, particularly the
-casual discarding of clothing. A newspaper
-editor told us that such attacks of hyper-sensitiveness
-over nudity come not to foreigners newly
-arrived nor to those residents who sanely take
-long vacations back to their homelands (where
-they may have the rejuvenation of themselves
-being homogeneous with the masses), but to the
-conscientious unfortunates who remain too long
-at their posts. Round and about them for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span>
-twenty-four hours of the day and the seven days
-of the week surges the sea of native life. The
-feeling of lonesome strangeness, which can never
-be entirely lost by the foreigner, feeds on its own
-black moods and this poisonous diet suddenly
-nourishes a dull hatred. Then come the bitter
-letters to the press demanding that the Japanese
-reform themselves into Utopian perfection and
-threatening that unless they so do the foreign
-guests of the empire will assemble in convention
-and design an all-enveloping bag (with a drawing
-string to be pulled tight about the neck of
-the wearer) as a national costume for their hosts
-for evermore.</p>
-
-<p>If hot days in the port cities, where there is
-some mild regulation of costume, can bring such
-disturbances of mind to anxiously missioning folk,
-we thought that it was as well that they were not
-walking with us that day through the villages of
-the broad plain which slopes from Mount Keisoku
-to Ise Bay. It was before we were out of
-the hills that our road carried us through a grove.
-A stone-flagged walk led into the shadows of
-the trees and we could see at its end the beginning
-of a long flight of stone steps which bespoke
-some hidden and ancient shrine beyond. A small
-stream flowed alongside the path and cut our<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span>
-road under an arched stone bridge. We heard
-shouts of laughter from the pines and the next
-moment an avalanche of children came tumbling
-along as fast as their legs could take them.
-Some were cupids with bright coloured <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kimonos</i>
-streaming from their shoulders; some did not
-have even that restraint. A tall, slender maiden
-was in pursuit, and the pursuit was part of some
-game. They dashed by us through the light and
-shadow and were lost again in the pines.</p>
-
-<p>It was the reincarnation of a Greek relief. In
-that flash of the moment in which we saw them,
-the glistening nude body of the pursuing girl
-running through the green and brown and grey
-of the grove was passionately and superbly the
-plea of nature against man’s crucifying purity
-upon the cross of sophistication.</p>
-
-<p>I regretted to O-Owre-san the having within
-me so much of that very sophistication that I
-had begun immediately to moralize upon such
-a sheerly beautiful vision. He, who had been
-saying nothing, replied with an end-all to the
-subject. “Your mild regret,” said he, “that
-dispassionate analysis has displaced passionate
-creativeness is the penalty you pay for the pleasure
-of studying your own sadness.”</p>
-
-<p>The Greeks, I believe, had for one of their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span>
-two axioms by which they covered the conduct of
-wise living, “No excess in anything.” I had
-very fearlessly compared the young girl to a
-Greek relief, but when we were out of the hills
-and were in the meaner villages of the plains
-I began to feel the truth of that Greek dictum
-that people can mix too much practice into a
-theory, especially when it comes to an overwhelming
-surrender to naturalness. I lost my enthusiasm
-for my so shortly before uttered panegyric
-of a world naturally and unconsciously
-nude. I began to understand a new meaning
-in the artist’s cry of “Give me Naples and her
-rags!” Especially the rags! Upon some occasions
-art and sensibility need the rags far more
-than does morality.</p>
-
-<p>All this argument was with myself as O-Owre-san’s
-dismissal of my tentative first offering on
-the subject had not been encouraging to further
-communication. I then proceeded to a further
-step in my private debate and queried whether
-in the selection of clothes, to be truly practical,
-man would not be served better by trusting to
-comfort rather than to either art or morality;
-and then I came upon the thought that comfort
-has no strength to resist convention when they
-collide, and as convention, with the guile of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>
-serpent, always makes much pretension of riding
-in the same omnibus with virtue, perhaps after
-all the true wisdom of life is to stay close to
-convention and thus one will be pretty sure to
-reach Journey’s End in good shape. I mentioned
-my change of heart to O-Owre-san as we
-were sitting down in the shade of a <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">ramune</i> shop,
-where unabashed nudity had gathered in a circle
-to regard the foreigners. He did not seem to
-be moved to interest by my reformation. I
-heaped a malediction on his head. Surely if
-I were willing to rearrange my opinions seven
-times daily at some one stage he might agree.</p>
-
-<p>It was during this rest that I came upon the
-happiest adventure that the mouth of man may
-hope to experience in this imperfect world. I
-had been thirsty from that first day in the East
-when I had begun breathing in Manchurian
-dust. In Peking I had tried to cool my throat
-by every variety of drink offered through the
-mingling of Occidental and Oriental civilizations.
-In Korea, a certain twenty-four hours of wandering
-alone and lost among the baked and arid
-mountains had further augmented the parching
-of my tongue&mdash;an increasement which I had believed
-to be impossible. Along the Tokaido we
-were free to drink as much chemical lemonade<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span>
-as our purse could buy and, despite the warnings
-of all red-bound guide books, we drank the water.
-But never, since the beginning of my thirst, had
-I found a liquid worth one word’s praise as a
-quencher, neither water nor wine, neither <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">ramune</i>
-nor tea. I have irreverently forgotten the name
-of the village of the discovery.</p>
-
-<p>As we sat resting in the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">ramune</i> shop I looked
-about and saw some champagne cider bottles of
-unusually large size. The quantity rather than
-the flavour of that particular chemical combination
-was the appeal. I asked for two of the
-bottles, making the request to a maid who was
-hoisting a flag over the door. The flag had a
-single Chinese character printed on it. It was
-a sign which I later learned to distinguish from
-incredible distances. After flinging out the flag,
-she took down two bottles from the shelf but
-instead of opening them she smiled with a beaming
-which came from the secure faith that she
-was bearing good news.</p>
-
-<p>“<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">Kori wa ikago desu?</i>” she asked.</p>
-
-<p>The concluding three words are among the
-first to be learned from the phrase book and mean
-“Do you wish?” The word <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kori</i> I remembered
-from its having been one of the extras of our
-first night. It means “ice.” We said yes, that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span>
-we would like ice, but in our ignorance we spoke
-with no marked ebulliency. She smiled again
-and sat down, folding her arms in her <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kimono</i>
-sleeves, an equivalent of that expression of contented
-virtue shown when our own housewives
-peacefully wrap their hands in their aprons.</p>
-
-<div id="Ref_84" class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
-<img src="images/i089.jpg" width="600" height="522" alt="" />
-<div class="caption"><p class="center">THE KORI (ICE) FLAG OF THE “ADVENTURER”</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>That the flag above the door had some definite
-meaning for the villagers began to be most evident.
-The shop was filling. Mob expectancy is
-contagious and we found ourselves waiting tensely
-with no clear idea what we were waiting for.
-The shop was now quite full and all eyes were
-turned to the street. We heard shouts from the
-outside that were almost <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">banzais</i>, and a coolie
-came running in. His face was aflame from the
-happy look of completed service. He was carrying
-a dripping block of ice in many wrappings
-of brown hemp cloth. I do not know how far
-he had come with the ice. Perhaps he had been
-to some station of the distant railroad. The
-maid took her hands from her <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kimono</i> sleeves
-and seized the ice. She pulled off the wrappings.
-Next she took a saw and cut off an end from the
-cake. Another maid re-wrapped the precious
-remainder in the hemp cloth and buried it in a
-pit dug in the floor. A third maid had been
-standing by with a board which had a sharp knife<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span>
-edge set into it. The first maid scraped the end
-of the ice cake over this inverted plane and
-shavings of sparkling snow fell into her hand.
-She packed this whiteness into two large, flat,
-glass dishes. She poured into the snow the effervescing
-champagne cider and brought us the
-“adventure.”</p>
-
-<p>An adventure is an adventure in proportion
-to the emotion aroused. For days without end
-thirst had been sitting astride my tongue. Just
-as the Old Man of the Sea fastened his thighs
-around Sindbad’s neck and then kicked the poor
-man’s ribs mercilessly with his heels, so had my
-parasite tickled my throat with his toes. To have
-unthroned my tormentor at the beginning of his
-companionship would have been a sensuous satisfaction.
-To do so after having known the abysses
-of abject slavery was an ecstasy exceeding the
-dreams of lovers.</p>
-
-<p>I flushed the ice particles around in my mouth
-until my eyes rolled in my head. O-Owre-san
-was alarmed into protests. I had no time to
-listen. I ordered another bowl of snow and another
-bottle. It was costing <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">sen</i> after <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">sen</i> but
-I knew in my soul that if I had to beg my rice
-to get to Yokohama and had to sleep under
-temple steps, even if the price for the snow thus<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span>
-beggared me, the uttermost payment could be in
-no proportion to the value.</p>
-
-<p>The fertile plain through which the Tokaido
-now wound was crowded with the sight of man.
-A few houses always clustered wherever a rise
-in the ground could lift them above the water of
-the rice fields. The paddy toilers, digging with
-their hands around the rice roots, worked in long
-lines, men and women, with their bodies bent flat
-down from their hips against their legs. If they
-noticed our passing and looked up, we would say,
-“It is hot!” and they would say, “It is hot!”
-Finally an avenue of scrub pines brought shade
-and I declared for a siesta. Our first attempt
-gave way before a horde of ants. We tried relaying
-the top stones of a heap of boulders and
-then climbed up on that edifice, going to sleep
-quite contentedly. When I yawned into wakefulness
-I looked lazily around the landscape
-wondering where I was. I felt queerly and
-strangely alone. It was not that the sound of
-breathing from under O-Owre-san’s helmet had
-ceased. He had not become a deserter, but while
-we were sleeping every peasant in the fields had
-disappeared. There can be, then, a degree of
-heat under which a coolie will not labour, and
-we had found the day of that heat.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>In the next village we discovered our labourers
-again. They were lying on the floors of their
-open-sided houses, the elders motionless except
-for the deep rising and falling of their breasts
-and an arm lifted now and then in desultory
-fanning. The children, however, were restless
-enough to be startled into gazing at the two
-strangers who were walking the gauntlet of the
-narrow street.</p>
-
-<p>We had seen an ice flag over a shop at the
-very entrance to the town but O-Owre-san suggested
-that there would surely be another shop
-farther along. I accepted his reasoning but there
-was not another <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kori</i> flag to be found anywhere.
-We had reached the last house. The sign over
-the shop we had passed was at least a mile back
-along that burning white cañon. O-Owre-san
-stopped in at the last house to beg some well
-water. I looked at the water and thought of
-the ice.</p>
-
-<p>“If there ever was any ice back there,” said
-he, “it’s melted by this time.”</p>
-
-<p>I was venomous. I left my luggage and
-started back.</p>
-
-<p>The children, maybe, had been telling their
-parents of the sight that they had missed, a sight
-which might never come again. The grinding<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span>
-of my heels this time brought a somewhat larger
-audience to their elbows. They appeared appreciative
-of my second appearance. I staggered
-on and on, mopping my head with a blue and
-white gift towel. I felt in my limbs the exact
-strength that would carry me to that <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kori</i> shop,
-but to have had to go a foot beyond might well
-have meant an experience in hallucinations which
-I had no wish to know.</p>
-
-<p>An old man, who grinned toothlessly, dug
-down into a sawdust pit and exhumed a fair-sized
-cake of ice. He moved about his work
-grotesquely as if he were an animated conceit
-of carved ivory quickened into life for a moment
-by the hyper-heat. He at last gave me a bowl
-of snow with sprinkled sugared water over it.
-I munched the ice for a full half-hour. As I
-slowly grew cooler the crowd about me slowly
-grew larger. They stood silently staring, always
-staring.</p>
-
-<p>The change for the silver piece which I put
-down was a heap of coppers. It must have weighed
-half a pound or more. I might not have been
-so generous if the wealth had been more portable.
-As it was, I invited in two or three boys from
-the circle of the crowd. A carpenter’s apprentice
-had been sitting on the bench beside me.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span>
-He had paid for one bowl of snow which he had
-held close to his lips, tossing the sugar powdered
-ambrosia into his mouth with dexterous flips of
-a tiny tin spoon. He looked at the ice supply
-about to disappear into the pit and I invited
-him to a further participation. He glanced at
-me intensely for a second as if he wished to solve
-by that one glance every reason for my existence.
-Then he turned his attention to his second bowl,
-which I paid for. His hair was clipped close to
-his skull. The fresh, youthfully transparent skin
-of his face was stretched like a sheet of rubber,
-the tension holding down his nose and allowing
-his eyes to stare with an openness impossible to
-optics otherwise socketed.</p>
-
-<p>Just how the round, cannonball head of the
-Japanese boy evolutes into the featured physiognomy
-of the Japanese man is puzzling. It must
-be a sort of bursting. The schoolboy’s eyes betray
-the passing moods of his emotions, but there
-is always something beyond the mood of the
-moment in his gazing, an intangible yearning for
-infinity. It must at times be terrifying for an
-Anglo-Saxon teacher or missionary to face those
-eyes. Such a victim may find respite by swearing
-in the court of all that is practical and material
-that the mere physical strangeness of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span>
-deep staring has bewitched him. He is wise if,
-by clinging to analysis of the objective world,
-he can restrain all passion to disturb such mysteries&mdash;otherwise
-he may be led into a voyage
-such as that of Urashima to the enchanted island.
-And then, if ever he seeks to return to his Western
-identity, he may find that the world which
-he once knew has died and that he stands neither
-wedded to the daughter of the Dragon King nor
-possessing the substance of his former self.</p>
-
-<p>I was thus dreamily communing, studying the
-face of the carpenter’s apprentice. It was he
-who recalled me from such heat born, mental
-wanderings by finishing his ice, picking up his
-<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kimono</i> and throwing it over his shoulder, and
-walking off with the air of, “Well, you ice
-dreamer, I have been with you for a moment,
-but now I have work to do in the world.” I
-followed after him and walked out again into
-the fiery street.</p>
-
-<p>I can swear that the ice had cooled me back
-to the normal. I felt myself a part of the obvious
-world. I had banished the disease known as the
-imagination. I was doing the most practical
-thing for the moment, going back to my rucksack.
-But I can also swear that the real world was
-most unfairly unreal. Great-grandfathers and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span>
-great-great-grandmothers, who had passed so
-far along on their journey through life that probably
-they had given up hope of ever again seeing
-anything new and worldly strange to interest
-them, had been carried to the fronts of the houses
-to behold the outlander. It was as if I had not
-come to see Japan but Japan had been waiting
-long and patiently to see me, a parading manikin
-in a linen suit and yellow boots and a pith helmet.
-The naked, old, old women, their ribs slowly
-moving under their dried skin as if breathing
-and staring were their last hold upon the temporal
-world, knelt, supported by their children, on the
-mats. Walking slowly by I felt that I was the
-sacrificial pageant of the ceremony for their final
-surrender. There was not a sound from their
-lips. I began to have a sense of remarkable
-completeness, that I was a single figure with no
-possible replica. It was not until I saw O-Owre-san’s
-blue shirt that I was able to snap the thread
-which was leading me not out of but into the
-tortuous labyrinth of such speculative folly.</p>
-
-<p>“I was just going back to look for you,” said
-he, “I thought you must have had a sunstroke.”</p>
-
-<p>It seemed just then an unnecessary and a too
-complicated endeavour to explain the minute difference
-between standing with one’s toes on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span>
-edge of the calamity which he had feared for me
-and the actuality of toppling over the precipice.
-Thus I merely replied that I was feeling all
-right.</p>
-
-<p>Some tribes of men have in their dogma that
-the beard must never be trimmed. I am able to
-imagine that O-Owre-san would carry a sympathetic
-understanding always with him, no matter
-among what races he might go adventuring, except
-into the society of the disbelievers in beard
-trimming. He demands an extreme exactitude
-in the trimming of his own beard which proclaims
-the existence of a certain precise flair of idealism.
-This flair may be seen manifested in him also
-in such croppings out as his appreciation for
-flawless cloisonné. The fact that he had discovered
-a barber shop and had not made immediate
-use of his find was overwhelming proof that
-he had been really solicitous about me. Now
-that I had returned he made no further delay
-but sat down in the chair. I stretched out on
-the matting to wait. The barber’s daughter
-brought cushions and placed them under my head
-and then knelt at my shoulder to send scurrying
-breaths of cool air from her fan across my
-face.</p>
-
-<p>When I awoke O-Owre-san was paying the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span>
-barber’s charge. It amounted, if I remember,
-to three <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">sen</i>, or perhaps three and one-half <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">sen</i>.
-Whatever it was the now properly trimmed
-<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kebukei</i> foreigner left four <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">sen</i> and one-half from
-his honourable purse, and there was another copper
-or two as thanks to O-Momo-san for the
-gentle medicine of her fan.</p>
-
-<p>The barber’s clippers, which he had used with
-such art, had perhaps cost four <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">yen</i>. If so, they
-would&mdash;as may be determined by simple division&mdash;require
-at least one hundred similar payments
-before the return to the barber of their initial
-cost; and there were the razors, and the chair,
-and the shining cups and bottles, all representing
-capital outlay; and there must have been rent
-to pay. There are three demi-gods of the East
-and only under their reign lies the answer. Great
-is rice, that it satisfies the hunger. Great is cotton,
-that it clothes the limbs. Great is art, that
-it can build the home from the simple bamboo.
-The barber jingled the four <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">sen</i> and a half between
-his palms, and the jingle was the music
-that sings of the buying of the rice, the cotton,
-and the bamboo. There is mystery and magic
-in economics; and there is, in the submission of
-man to recognize money as a medium of exchange
-and in his cooperating to maintain that recognition<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span>
-by law and force, the greatest story in the
-world.</p>
-
-<p>The barber ceased jingling the coins and
-dropped them into a drawer. His daughter remained
-kneeling, her wistful, gentle head bowed
-low in good-byes. She had been silent but I
-imagined that I knew two of her thoughts&mdash;no,
-I should say, two of her moods. One was quite
-obvious. She had been amused (it was an adventure
-in its way) to fan to sleep a foreign
-guest. But the other mood, born of dreaming,
-was asking where the road led, which those
-strange visitors were striking out upon, stretching
-away into the distance as does the march into
-the beyond of life.</p>
-
-<p>We were talking idly one day with a maid
-in a certain inn. Her name was O-Kimi-san,
-and she was pretty in the flush of youth, and
-“very pretty anyhow,” as O-Owre-san critically
-observed. Her feet were quick as sunshine when
-she ran for our dinner trays, or to bring tea
-instantly to our room upon our coming in from
-the street, or to fetch glowing charcoal to our
-elbow if we should wish to smoke, and her fingers
-were cunning in all the other little luxuries of
-service. She was saving money, she said, for
-the wedding which might be, but as she had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span>
-neither father nor mother to arrange a marriage
-she added quite simply that she was only hoping
-to be married. She desired to wed a merchant,
-with a shop of his own, having a little room
-upstairs over the bazaar so that the good wife
-might be able to run down and attend to customers
-between domestic duties. She declared
-an antique shop would be the best, for one can
-buy nowadays from the wholesalers such wonderful,
-not-to-be-detected imitations. But her
-eyes grew sad. It was not within reason to hope
-that a merchant with such a shop would ever
-love a dowerless girl, and it was taking so long
-to save the capital herself. Why, one of the
-maids of the inn had been there sixteen years!
-If she had only three hundred <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">yen</i> the heaven
-upon earth might be hers.</p>
-
-<p>I know that O-Momo-san, the daughter of the
-barber, when she sat wondering what lay beyond
-the farthest distance she could see along the road,
-was not imagining a little shop, where between
-domestic cares she could take time to wait upon
-customers.</p>
-
-<p>It is for the imagination of dreaming O-Momo-san
-that the priests light the incense at the sacred
-altar; it is for practical O-Kimi-san that they
-read the traditional advice from the theology of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span>
-moral maxims. The Marys and the Marthas!
-The cherry blossoms are a bloom of mysterious
-beauty for the daughter of the barber; they are
-a symbol of gay festival time for the practical
-maid of the inn. Will it be the end for the
-daughter of the barber of Kasada to marry her
-father’s apprentice and to live on in the little
-shop, dreaming until dreams slumber and are
-forgotten, knowing only this of the old Tokaido
-that it leads away in a straight line until it is
-lost in the brilliant blur of the sun on the waters
-of the rice fields? Or will her imagining heart
-know adventure in the world beyond the vision
-of her doorstep? Perhaps the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">sen</i> will come so
-slowly to the barber’s drawer that the wistful
-daughter will be sold to a <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geisha</i> master, and in
-filial piety, fulfilling the contract, she may go
-even to Tokyo where she will be taught to sing
-and to dance and to laugh gaily. She may find
-that life is kind. Again, she may be sold to
-another life&mdash;under the juggernaut of poverty&mdash;and
-in the Nightless City knowledge will come
-to dwell in the empty place where wistfulness
-was.</p>
-
-<p>We walked away from Kasada along the unchanging
-road; one blade of rice was like another,
-one step was like another, finally one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span>
-thought became like another. Nagoya was many
-miles ahead. O-Owre-san, the tramper, is of the
-faith which holds that to give in to a stretch of
-road just because it is dull is to surrender for
-no reason at all. That is good doctrine. I have
-something of it, but my hold upon the faith is
-admixed with a Catholicism which does not preclude
-the restful and inward harmony of maintaining
-speaking acquaintance with several conflicting
-beliefs. On the other hand O-Owre-san
-will, simply and unostentatiously, subordinate his
-preferences, but the surrender is so generous that
-that virtue is usually a protection in itself against
-applied selfishness. To escape any disagreeable
-feeling of shame I thought it might be that
-O-Owre-san could be induced to make the suggestion
-himself that we take some more rapid
-means of transportation. We were in the land
-of <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">jiu-jitsu</i>. The fundamental idea of this system
-is that you politely assist your opponent to throw
-himself. I began by alluding to the thrills and
-possibilities of the antique shops of Nagoya. If
-we should continue walking we could not reach
-there until late at night, and if we should find
-Kenjiro Hori waiting for us and prepared to be
-off early the next morning, when would there
-be time for exploring? I then ventured casually<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span>
-that the railroad would take us to Nagoya in a
-couple of hours. Imagination began to work as
-my ally. O-Owre-san at last queried directly
-whether I would be willing to give up walking
-in the country for exploration in the city. I
-yielded. Thus, when the arrogant Tokaido of
-steel crossed our road, as the map had told me
-it soon would, two foreigners with rucksacks
-found places amid teapots and babies, bundles
-and ever fanning elders, and soon they saw the
-tall smokestacks of modern Nagoya.</p>
-
-<p>Our kit of clean linen and clean suits had been
-forwarded from Kyoto in care of the foreign
-hotel. Perhaps we each had had the idea when
-the bag was packed that we would be exceedingly
-content to catch up with it again, not alone
-for the contents but in anticipation that the finding
-would mean that we would be again surrounded
-by the comfort of Western standards
-exotically flourishing. Alas for the stability of
-our tenet! We were aware that our capitulation
-to the simplicity of the native inns sprang partly
-from the glamour of the new, but the conquest
-had come from realization and not mere anticipation.
-Dilettantes we were, truly, and as such
-we acknowledged ourselves, but we should be
-credited that we escaped the eczema of reformers.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span>
-We had no obsession to hasten back to our own
-land to argue the multitudes out of the custom
-of wearing shoes in the house or sitting on chairs
-instead of floors. Nevertheless when we walked
-into the door of the hotel and up the stairs every
-tread of our heavy, dusty boots struck at our
-sensibility of a better fitness and order.</p>
-
-<p>We walked along the upstairs hall and passed
-a room with wide open double doors. There
-was Kenjiro Hori waiting for us; that is, a
-semblance of O-Hori-san was there, his material
-body. When a Japanese sleeps his absorption
-by his dream hours is so complete that one is
-tempted to believe that his so-called waking hours
-(no matter how manifested in energy) may be
-only a hazy interim between periods of a much
-more important psychic existence. We walked
-into the room and sat down and talked things
-over and waited for the opening of Hori’s eyelids,
-but they moved not. O-Owre-san at last
-departed to seek treasure trove in the antique
-shops and I decided for the laziness of a bath.</p>
-
-<p>I asked for a hot bath. The bath boy’s uniform
-was starched and new, and he was starched
-and new in his position as drawer of water. He
-was very proud of such responsibility and was
-very earnest and very smiling. In some other<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span>
-occupation he had picked up a little English.
-He promised to hurry. Minutes went by. Above
-the sound of the running of the water I could
-hear a mysterious pounding and scraping. This
-combination of noises continued with no regard
-for passing time. Now and again I pounded
-on the door in Occidental impatience. “Very
-quick! Very quick!” would come his answer.
-When the bolt did snap back I could see from
-his perspiring face that he must have been hurrying
-after some fashion of his own. He bowed
-and pointed to the tub. I put in one foot&mdash;and
-out it came. The water might have come from
-a glacier.</p>
-
-<p>“I asked for a hot bath&mdash;<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">o yu, furo</i>,” I shouted.</p>
-
-<p>There was no retreat of the smiles. They
-even grew.</p>
-
-<p>“Japanese man, he take hot bath. Foreign
-man, he take cold bath.”</p>
-
-<p>I now understood the scraping and pounding.
-The hot days had attacked the water tanks of
-the hotel until the faucets marked “Cold” were
-running warm. The bath boy had been laboriously
-stirring around a cake of ice in the tub.
-Blandly came the repetition, “Foreign man, he
-take cold bath.”</p>
-
-<p>For the sake of sweet courtesy and kindly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span>
-appreciation I should have sat down in that
-water, but I did not. I pulled out the stopper
-and drew a hot tub. When the boy realized this
-sacrilege against the custom of the foreign man,
-he veritably trembled from the violence of the
-restraint which he had to put upon himself, but
-his idea of courtesy was so far superior to mine
-that he retreated. I bolted the door against him.</p>
-
-<p>O-Owre-san returned from his field with enraptured
-accounts. There is some sort of affinity
-between him and a bit of treasure. He is the
-hazel wand and the antique is the hidden water,
-but as a human divining rod he does not merely
-bend to magnetism, he leaps. My first initiation
-to that knowledge had been so sufficiently
-striking that no new evidences ever surprised me.
-That initiation had come when we were riding
-one Sunday morning on the top of a tram in the
-cathedral city of Bath. We were in the midst
-of a discussion. Half way through a sentence
-he suddenly lifted himself over the rail and disappeared
-down the side of the car. When I
-could finally alight more conventionally I ran
-back to find him with his nose against a dull
-and uninviting window. From the top of the
-tram he had seen within the shadows a chair.
-There was no arousing the antique shop on Sunday<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span>
-and thus he left a note of inquiry under the
-door and eventually that particular treasure,
-wrapped in burlap, made its long journey to
-America.</p>
-
-<p>He began discussing the treasures of Nagoya
-when in walked Hori.</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t see how you got by my door,” said he.</p>
-
-<p>“Weren’t you asleep?” I asked.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, just dozing,” he explained.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub-->
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2>V<br />
-<span class="titlefont">THE ANCIENT NAKESCENDO</span></h2>
-
-
-<p>We had an hour to kill before dinner and we
-were irritably moody against the foreign windows
-which gave us no breeze. “It’s housely
-hot,” said O-Owre-san, and he sighed pathetically
-for the cool mats of an inn floor where there
-would be a pot of freshly brewed tea at his elbow
-and a green garden to look out upon. I was
-studying a map of Japan, tracing out its rivers
-and mountains.</p>
-
-<p>I have an inordinate passion for maps. Surely
-Stevenson had some such passion. I venture
-that he first thought of the pirate’s chart of
-“Treasure Island” and after that first imagination
-the story simply wrote itself. Particularly
-does passion find satisfaction in one of the old
-Elizabethan maps, printed in full, rich colours,
-the margins portraying the waves of the sea with
-dolphins diving, and with barques straining under
-bellied sails. Some are headed for the Spanish
-Main, and others are striking out for the regions
-marked “Unknown.” Those old Elizabethan<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span>
-maps could have been drawn only in the days
-of hurly-burly England when the deep-chested
-seamen under Raleigh and Drake sang savage
-sea songs in the taverns and the tingling life in
-a man’s veins was worth its weight in adventure.
-No wonder that to-day, with our pale, lithographed
-maps telling us the exact number of
-nautical miles to the farthest coral island we have
-become analytic and scientific. As Okakura said,
-“We are modern, which means that we are old.”
-Nevertheless, a pale, errorless, unemotional map
-is better than no map at all.</p>
-
-<p>The particular map of Japan which I was
-studying had had a few mysteries added in the
-printing which were not to be blamed upon the
-geographer. The different colours had been laid
-on by the printer with marked independence of
-registration. It was difficult to trace even the
-old Tokaido, but imagination from practical experience
-told me that when it followed the coast
-it led through miles and miles of rice fields.
-Farther up on the map, in the mountain ranges
-above Nagoya, I saw a blurred word and turning
-the sheet on end I read “Nakescendo.”</p>
-
-<p>The word brought a remembrance. I began
-trying to piece together what that memory was.
-At last I assembled a forgotten picture of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span>
-Japanese whom I had once met on a train. In
-the beginning I had thought him a modern of
-the moderns until he told me of his sacred pilgrimages.
-It was my surprise, I suppose, in his
-tale of his tramping, staff in hand, with the
-peasants that had made me so distinctly remember
-his earnestness as he mouthed the full word
-“Nakescendo.” I rolled over on the bed with
-my finger on the map and asked Hori if he had
-ever heard of the Nakescendo.</p>
-
-<p>Hori looked up in surprise as if I had rudely
-mentioned some holy name. “All day,” said he,
-“I have been thinking of the Nakescendo.” Then
-he told us how the Nakescendo road enters the
-mountains through the valley of the beautiful
-Kiso river and, following the ranges first to the
-north and then to the east, takes its way to
-Tokyo. In the era before railroads it was a
-great arterial thoroughfare and in those feudal
-days the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">daimyos</i> of the north and their retainers
-journeyed the Nakescendo route with as much
-pomp as did their southern rivals along the
-Tokaido. Nevertheless the Nakescendo now
-exists in history as the less famous thoroughfare
-of the two. Hori suggested that the dimming
-of its fame may have come because its ancient
-followers had cherished its beauty with such intensity<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span>
-that they did not allow their artists to
-paint it nor their poets to sing of it to the world,
-in the belief, perhaps, that all objective praise
-could be but supererogation.</p>
-
-<p>I had most of this imagining from Hori’s
-understatements rather than from anything definite
-that he said. He is of the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">samurai</i> and his
-ancestors learned the art of conversation in a
-court circle devoted to the graces. The incompleted
-phrase of the East so subtly makes one
-an accessory in the creation of the idea involved
-that we, of the West, who live in a world of
-overstatement, find ourselves disarmed to deny.
-One cannot discount words that have never been
-uttered.</p>
-
-<p>I added to Hori’s words some definite phrases
-from my own imagination. These were to influence
-O-Owre-san if possible. I knew that it
-had been his long held dream to walk the Tokaido
-from end to end, but I had not realized until I
-saw his dismay at my suggestion of a change
-how ardent his dream had been. I had recklessly
-prophesied the mountains of the Nakescendo to
-be the abode of spring among other praises. It
-could not be denied that whatever the Tokaido
-was or was not, the rice fields that had to be
-crossed would not be springlike.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>We slept over such argument as we had had.
-The next day burst in the glory of a burning
-sun, which was rather an argument on the side
-of the mountain faction. The breakfast butter
-melted before our eyes. O-Owre-san finished his
-marmalade and pushed back his chair, and then
-casually capitulated. “Well,” he said, “if we
-are going to the mountains, what are we waiting
-for?” What indeed? I ran upstairs to our
-room and pulled off my hotel-civilization clothes
-and stuffed them into the bag and labelled it
-for Yokohama. There was to be no more formal
-emerging into the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">seiyo-jin’s</i> world for us until
-we should reach that port of compulsion.
-O-Owre-san was less exuberant in his packing
-but he cheerfully whistled some air&mdash;which was
-indeed forgiving&mdash;and as usual was ready before
-I was.</p>
-
-<p>Hori’s travelling kit had evidently bothered
-him not at all. A half-dozen collars, two or three
-books, one or two supplementary garments, and
-a straw hat were tied up in a blue and orange
-handkerchief and this <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja"><a id="a-furoshiki" href="#furoshiki">furoshiki</a></i> was tied to the
-handlebars of a bicycle. Until we met the bicycle
-we had talked of the problems and plans
-of the three of us, but from the instant of production
-there was no gainsaying that there were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>
-four of us. Further, the really colourful and
-unique personality among the four partners of
-the vagabondage was that diabolical, mechanical
-contraption.</p>
-
-<p>In making that machine, the manufacturer,
-without possibility of dispute, had achieved the
-supremacy of turning out the most consistently
-jerry-built affair since the beginning of time.
-He merits first immortality both in any memorialization
-by the shades of jerry-builders who
-have gone before and in the future from the
-tribe as it expands and multiplies upon the earth.
-The loose, and often parting, chain hung from
-sprocket wheels that marvellously revolved at
-nearly right angles to each other. When Hori
-mounted into the saddle the wheels fearsomely
-bent under his weight until their circumferences
-advanced along the road in ellipses strange and
-unknown to the plotting of calculus. The rims
-scraped the mudguards in continuous rattle as
-if there were not enough other grinding sounds
-of despair coming from every gear and bearing.
-In some way those abnormalities worked together,
-acting in compensation. Any one of the single
-errors without such correspondingly outrageous
-offset would have been prohibitive to locomotion.</p>
-
-<p>The indomitable spirit of the machine to keep<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span>
-going should perhaps be praised, but its general
-character was steeped in malevolency against all
-human kind. It hated Hori no less violently
-than it did us or strangers. It hated and was
-hated and continued to leave a trail of hatred
-in its path until a certain memorable day when
-we came to a mountain climb. While we were
-discussing what best could be done for its transport
-the proud spirit overheard that it would have
-to submit to being tied upon a coolie’s back. It
-rebelled into heroic suicide at that prospect. It
-committed <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">hara-kiri</i>. The entire mechanism collapsed
-suddenly into an almost unrecognizable
-wreck.</p>
-
-<p>“When the flower fades,” says Okakura
-Kakuzo, “the master tenderly consigns it to the
-river or carefully buries it in the ground. Monuments
-are even sometimes erected to their memory.”
-Hori gave a piece of money to the coolie
-for a reverent burial of the demon wheel.</p>
-
-<p>Our breakfast had really been luncheon and
-after our energy of packing and getting started
-we so indulged our time in the shops on the
-way out of the city that we finally decided that
-if we were to get into the mountains before
-night we should have to take the train over the
-paddy fields. The bicycle, the rucksacks, and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span>
-blue and orange handkerchief, together with the
-owners, were crowded into an accommodation
-train. The small engine puffed with the temperament
-of a nervous pomeranian, throwing a volcanic
-spume into the air which condensed into a
-fine diamond ash to come back to earth and to
-stream into the windows and then to drift, eddy,
-and scurry about the seats and floor.</p>
-
-<p>An accommodation train has the verve of life
-which the conventions of a through express stifle;
-but whether it be a New England local with
-bird cages, or the Italian <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">misti</i> with priests and
-snuff boxes, nursing madonnas, garlic sandwiches,
-and chianti bottles, or the stifling wooden boxes
-of Northern India crowded with Afridi and
-Babus, no train in all the world is as domestic
-as the Japanese <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja"><a id="a-kisha" href="#kisha">kisha</a></i>. Friends and the friends
-of friends come to rejoice in the dramatic formalities
-of farewell. If perchance any individual
-on the platform is neither the friend nor the
-friend of a friend of some departing one he
-takes an altruistic pleasure in smiling upon the
-opportunities of others.</p>
-
-<p>We bought our pots of tea with tiny earthenware
-cups attached and put them on the floor
-as did everyone else; and we also bought our
-<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja"><a id="a-bento" href="#bento">bento</a></i> boxes, of rice, raw fish, pickles, seaweed,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span>
-and bamboo shoots, from the criers of “<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">Bento!
-Bento!! Bento!!!</i>” The train started. No one
-was bored; the children were not restless; and
-we of our carriage stayed awake or went to sleep
-in every posture possible to the flexibility of
-human limbs matched against the rigidity of
-wooden seats. The babies came along and became
-acquainted and we sent them back to their
-parents carrying gifts of cigarettes.</p>
-
-<p>Curled up on the seat across from ours, with
-her head resting on her luggage, was a girl about
-twenty years of age. She was a Eurasian and
-was beautiful rather than pretty. Now and
-again her graceful arm raised her fan but otherwise
-she did not move. Her dark eyes returned
-no curious glances. Her mood of mind and soul
-seemed as frozen and hard as the blue ice of a
-mountain glacier. It was a passionate negativity,
-her defence against the instinct of society,
-which eternally wages war upon the hybrid. It
-is instinctive, this struggle of the race mass mind
-against the disintegration of its integrity. She had
-learned the meaning of glances. The Eurasian
-must expiate a guiltless guilt. She did not ask for
-quarter in the battle; far back of that cold, defensive
-gaze was the strength of two proud races.
-Character makes fate, said the Greeks. Inevitability<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span>
-may make tragedy. We were to pick up the
-threads of old tales of love and tragedy along the
-valley of the Kiso, but in the life of that strange,
-fearless, beautiful Eurasian girl was the web
-and woof of a yet uncompleted story. When
-we at last passed our bundles out of the window
-at Agematsu she had not stirred.</p>
-
-<p>We had been carried out of the plains and night
-was coming down. Hori voiced an inquiry about
-our landing spot. It was indeed high time to
-be located some place for dinner and the night.
-Our indifference to particularization about our
-landing had begun to harass him. In Kobe and
-Nagoya when our surpassing indefiniteness had
-come out he had nodded and said, “yes,” evidently
-putting his faith in the belief that there would
-surely be an eventual limit to such casualness. I
-was slow to realize his worry but when I did some
-primitive idea of justice told me that his breaking
-into the inefficiency of our methods ought
-to be more gentle and gradual. I whispered
-this intuition to O-Owre-san and thus, when the
-train halted at the next platform, out went our
-luggage and we were left standing to watch the
-fiery cloud of cinders disappear into the blue-grey
-mist.</p>
-
-<p>It had grown cold. The rain was curiously<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span>
-like snow, drifting through the air, seemingly
-without weight. There was the beginning of a
-path up a slippery clay hill, the upper reaches
-of which were lost in fog and darkness. Even
-the short distances of vision, which until then had
-endured, succumbed before we had scrambled
-up the hill. We made a careful reconnaissance
-with hands and feet and found that the mountain
-path at the top branched in several directions.
-The town might lie in any direction. For more
-meditative cogitation Hori carefully lowered the
-bicycle to its side but unfortunately there was
-no ground beneath and off it slid. We heard it
-painfully scraping down the rocks. In Alpine
-fashion we had to go after it. We crawled back
-again to stand in a circle on the road, drenched
-and mud covered.</p>
-
-<p>Dinner, bed, and bath might be within a hundred
-yards but to take the wrong path might
-mean to wander until sunrise. At least so we
-thought. Such a variety of adventure is much
-more interesting in retrospect than prospect.
-However, it was worse to stand still. We started
-on an exploration, craftily putting the bicycle
-next to the precipice. On peaceful days the gears
-often meshed in moderate quietness but at any
-time when its companions failed in omnipotent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>
-judgment they would grind out a wailing reiteration
-of: “I told you so. I told you so.” We
-were shuffling along to the measure of that lamentation
-when suddenly there was a sparkle of light
-ahead. It was from a lantern. The bearer was
-a peasant bundled up in a rush grass cape. He
-lifted the light into our faces and then gave a
-single sharp cry of fear. Next he shut his eyes
-tightly and was speechless.</p>
-
-<p>A well-balanced consideration for the rights
-of one’s brothers is intended for normal times.
-Now that a guide had offered himself to us out
-of the darkness we purposed to keep him, although
-for a few minutes he seemed a rather useless
-discovery. Hori managed at length to pry
-the man’s eyes open with wet fingers and, then
-with fair words sought to persuade him that if
-we were not ghosts we obviously needed his help,
-but that if we were, then any sense left in him
-should tell him that it would be far better to
-listen to our request to guide us to an inn and
-to leave us there than to risk our trailing him
-to his own home. He grasped Hori’s point. We
-followed after our guide and, as we had suspected,
-the distance to the village was only a few
-steps. At the threshold of the inn our guide
-bolted. If he had been cherishing a grudge he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span>
-should have waited to see our reception. It was
-not pleasing to us.</p>
-
-<p>Hori advanced into the courtyard to engage
-in Homeric debate. The fog sweeping in struggled
-with the lights of the lanterns and candles.
-The picture was a theatrical composition. There
-were the three rain-soaked, laden intruders facing
-the maid-servants. The maids’ <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kimono</i> sleeves
-were pinned back to their shoulders and their
-skirts were gathered up through their girdles.
-Their faces and limbs gleamed in the coppery
-light. The door to the steaming kitchen opened
-on to the courtyard and within its shadows the
-pots and kettles hanging on the walls caught the
-glowing flame of the charcoal. I suppose there
-was not a more honest inn in all the land but
-the wild, picaresque picture suggested an imagining
-by Don Quixote painted by Rembrandt or
-Hogarth or Goya. It was a point of immediate
-reality, however, which concerned us, and that
-point was that we were so far in the inn but no
-farther, and no farther did we get.</p>
-
-<p>They gave a reason. They said that the inn
-was full. It seemed so ridiculous to have had
-such trouble in finding an inn and then to lose it
-that O-Owre-san and I began laughing. We
-laughed inordinately, but our barbarous merriment<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span>
-brought our listeners no nearer to changing
-their conviction that the inn was full. There
-was another inn farther down the street, they
-said, and we borrowed a lantern and a coolie
-from them and started. The coolie ran ahead
-and when we arrived at the second inn the mistress
-and all her maid-servants were at the door. From
-the length of Hori’s argument I became suspicious
-that we again were not considered desirable,
-but after a time he turned and said: “It’s all
-right.”</p>
-
-<p>As soon as we were in our room, hurriedly getting
-ready for the bath, I tried to find out from
-Hori what the long debate was about, but English
-is evidently much more laconic than Japanese.
-He summed it all up by saying that they
-feared the inn was unworthy of foreigners. Admirable
-<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">bushido</i>! What inn in the wide world
-could have been worthy of such bedraggled wanderers?
-However, once we were allowed within
-the walls and recognized as guests the spirit of
-hospitality welled solicitously.</p>
-
-<p>Listen, O dogmatists! The joy of the finding
-is not always less than the joy of the pursuit.
-If there are doubters let them seek the Nakescendo
-trail and find the second inn of Agematsu,
-there to learn that no dinner that they have ever<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span>
-imagined can equal the realization they will discover
-inside the lacquer bowls and porcelain
-dishes which will be brought to them.</p>
-
-<p>The maid who had been assigned to administer
-to our comfort accepted her duty as a trust. She
-was unbelievably short, but was very sturdy.
-Her broad face and the strength of her round,
-unshaped limbs proclaimed the hardy bloom of
-the peasantry. The physical, mental, and emotional
-unity which comes as the heritage of such
-unmixed rustic blood is in itself a prepossessing
-charm. Our daughter of Mother Earth was as
-maternal as she was diminutive. She might think
-of a thousand services, her bare feet might start
-of an instant across the mats to respond to any
-requests, but never did she surrender one iota
-of her instinctive belief that we, merely being
-men, were only luxurious accessories for the world
-to possess. She was so primordially feminine
-that she inspired a terrifying thought of the possibility
-of society being sometime modelled after
-the queendom of the bees.</p>
-
-<p>She had never seen a foreigner but she had
-heard much gossip of our strange customs. Her
-inquiring mind was intent upon verifying this
-gossip as far as possible. She was also very curious
-about our possessions. She taught us how<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span>
-to hold our chopsticks and how to drink our soup.
-She told us that we drank too silently. A little
-more noise from our lips, she said, would show
-that we were appreciating the flavour. She did
-acknowledge in us some aptitude to learn, implying
-that if a more advanced state of culture had
-existed in the feminine family group of our homes
-over the seas we might have been mothered into
-some respectability. So saying, she arose sturdily
-to her full height and bore away the dinner tables.
-Then she returned to make the beds, struggling
-with the mattresses as might an ant dragging oak
-leaves.</p>
-
-<p>When the beds were finally laid she brought a
-fresh brewing of tea and replenished the charcoal
-in the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja"><a id="a-hibachi" href="#hibachi">hibachi</a></i>. She lighted our after dinner
-cigarettes for us by pressing them against the
-embers. She sat waiting until we had dropped the
-last stub into the ashes. Then guardian midget
-rolled back the quilts, ordered us to bed, tucked
-us in carefully, giving to each impartially a good-night
-pat. Her day’s work finished, assuredly
-her efforts entitled her to a quiet enjoyment
-of one of the cigarettes! She sat down on
-the foot of my bed and deeply drawing in the
-smoke, blew it into the air with a sigh of contentment.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“I have been told,” she said, “that foreigners
-marry for love. Can that be true?”</p>
-
-<p>We assured her that that custom existed.</p>
-
-<p>“Um-m-m,” she pondered. Our examination
-was evidently of import. She took another step in
-questioning.</p>
-
-<p>“But if you married for love how can you be
-happy to travel so far away from your wives?”</p>
-
-<p>She gasped at our claim of non-possession.</p>
-
-<p>We made a second insistence regarding our
-unsocial state. She did not put aside her good
-nature but she berated us roundly for our unkindness,
-our lack of taste, in thinking that we
-could joke in such a way just because she was
-a peasant girl in a country inn, but when we
-further insisted upon repeating our tale she was
-really hurt. There is a time, she said, for joking
-to come to an end. If it were always thus our
-custom to insist upon a joke long after it had
-been laughed at and appreciated, then she did
-not believe that she had excessive pity for our
-wives and children in their being left behind
-while we wandered.</p>
-
-<p>She then dismissed us from her questioning
-and appealed exclusively to Hori. She could understand
-that if we had been forced to marry
-by parental social regulation and had been united<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span>
-to wives whom we did not and could not love,
-perhaps it would be quite within reason that we
-should wish to have vacations in singleness, but
-to have had the privilege of marrying for love
-and then to be wandering alone&mdash;oh, it was un-understandable.</p>
-
-<p>“Well,” said Hori mysteriously, “I think that
-what they have said is the truth but it may not
-be all the truth. In their country certain desperately
-wicked criminals are not allowed the privilege
-of marrying.”</p>
-
-<p>There is a glamour which hangs over the notoriously
-wicked. The maid’s glances were now
-modified by appropriate awe into distinct respect.
-She got up, and endeavouring for dignity built a
-tower out of the scattered cushions. She climbed
-upon this shaky height and turned out the light.
-Then she hurried away to the backstairs regions
-with her tale.</p>
-
-<p>In the morning it was raining. When we got
-up we could hear no sounds below and when we
-went to the bath there were no maids to fill the
-brass basins. Hori wandered off to the kitchen
-to find hot water and we did not see him again
-until after our maid, very heavy-eyed, had brought
-the breakfast tables to our room. He came as
-the bearer of two items of information which he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span>
-had gleaned from the mistress. The first was
-that there had been a council sitting on our morals,
-presided over by our maid, which had lasted
-through the hours of the night. The second item
-was the truthful reason why we had been turned
-away from the first inn and the confirmation of
-our suspicions that we had gained admittance
-where we were only by an extremely narrow margin.</p>
-
-<p>Once upon a time two foreigners had passed
-through Agematsu and had been received as
-guests in one of the inns. That advent had been
-so many years before that a new generation of
-mistresses and maids had succeeded the victims
-of the marvellous invasion, but the legend of that
-night of terror had been handed down undimmed.
-“And what do you think was their unspeakable
-atrocity?” Hori asked dramatically. “<em>They made
-snowballs from the rice of the rice box at dinner
-and threw them at each other and at the maids!</em>”</p>
-
-<p>From time to time, through the mountains,
-we heard again the legend of those two remarkable
-<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">seiyo-jins</i>. We grew to have an admiration
-for knaves so lusty in their revels that they could
-leave behind such a never fading flower of memory.
-They must have gone forth to their travels
-minutely familiar with the code of Japanese<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span>
-etiquette, so thoroughly were they skilled in fracturing
-it. A riot might have been forgiven, and
-forgotten, but not the throwing of rice on the
-floor. The one constant forbidding under which a
-child is brought up finally leaves no process of
-thought in the brain that anyone could ever intentionally
-offend against the cleanness of the
-matting. It is less a <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">gaucherie</i> to set fire to a
-friend’s house and burn it to the ground than to
-spill a bowl of soup.</p>
-
-<p>We waited for the rain to clear away, but as it
-did not we borrowed huge paper umbrellas and
-wandered off down the valley. We were in the
-midst of a silk spinning district and in almost
-every doorway sat some woman of the household
-busily capturing the silken threads from the cocoons.
-We asked permission to rest in the door
-of a carpenter’s shop which overhung the rocky
-Kiso and was shaded by the tops of great pines
-which grew from the sides of the valley bed.
-The carpenter brought us tea and stopped for a
-moment to point the view through the trees which
-had been the companion of his life.</p>
-
-<p>Sometimes poverty seems to be an absolute
-and unarguable condition; at other times one’s
-ideas as to the what and when of poverty are so
-shifting as merely to be interrogations. There<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span>
-was the poverty in that valley of the struggle for
-some slight margin above dire want; the silk
-workers were speeding their machines for their
-pittance; the carpenter was busy through every
-hour of daylight. Economics and efficiency are
-everyday words but what is their ultimate meaning
-not in dollars but in life? What are the real
-wishes of the leaders in Tokyo, the statesmen
-who are planning policies and at the same time
-must strive to please the great banking houses
-of the world?&mdash;do they look forward to the time
-when factories will fill the land and the spinners
-will not be sitting in their own doorways but
-the children of to-day’s workers will be standing
-in long rows before machines? “We are taught,”
-explained a Japanese, “to pay our heavy taxes
-cheerfully so that the empire may expand and
-develop. Wealth will be thus created and then
-taxes can be reduced.”</p>
-
-<p>Hori had remembrance of a traveller’s tale
-which he had heard long before of an ancient
-tea-house along the Kiso famous both for its
-noodle soup and its view of the spot locally believed
-to have been the awakening place of Urashima
-when he returned from the Island of the
-Dragon King. Considering that the story explicitly
-states that Urashima awoke on the seashore,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span>
-the faith of the inland believers is really
-more marvellously imaginative than the story itself.
-The trudging coolies whom we stopped
-had never heard of the tea-house. Therefore we
-knocked at the first gate we came to in the bamboo
-wall along the road to find that our footsteps
-had magically led us to the famed spot itself.
-We left our muddy boots at the door and
-a maid showed us the way to the balcony of the
-room of honour from which we could see the
-tumbling river. The view is called “The Awakening.”
-An islet emerges from the foam of the
-waters and its rocks have been made to serve as
-a miniature temple garden. There is another
-view farther down the bank, from which the
-dwarfed pines and stone lanterns of the island
-may be seen to better advantage. Cicerones lie
-in wait there for the sightseer. In delightful
-contrast to the urgings generally experienced from
-the tribe, these guides were quite shy in the presence
-of foreigners.</p>
-
-<p>The daughter of the house, in a <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kimono</i> of silk
-and brocade, herself brought the tray of tea and <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">sake</i> and a pyramid dish of noodles. The porcelain
-was old and of tempting beauty. The tea
-was fragrant. Hori insisted that we should extemporize
-poetry to express our appreciation of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>
-beauty of the Kiso, but O-Owre-san and I were
-rather self-conscious in our rhymes. We had been
-nurtured in a land of specialization where poetry
-is entrusted to professionals. The sun came out.
-We paid our reckoning, folded up our paper umbrellas,
-and walked back to our inn for a long
-night’s sleep.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub-->
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2>VI<br />
-<span class="titlefont">THE ADVENTURE OF THE BOTTLE INN</span></h2>
-
-
-<p>In the morning Hori discovered that his military
-survey map somehow had been mistaken for
-a sheet of wrapping paper the day before. The
-torn-off section had served to carry rice cakes in
-my pocket. The tearing had strangely traversed
-mountains, valleys, and rivers along almost the
-line we purposed following. As Hori was still
-unemancipated from the idea that not to know
-where one is is to be lost, he was rather in a maze
-for the next few days, as we continually wandered
-off the edge of the map into unknown regions.
-He must have marvelled at times over the kindness
-of the Providence which had guided our
-steps from Kyoto to Nagoya.</p>
-
-<p>The valley of the Kiso earnestly seeks to attest
-the theory that the inhabitants of localities
-with a similar climate and topography tend to
-have similar ideas, especially in working out
-ways of doing the same thing. The wide sweeping
-view with the snow-topped mountains on the
-horizon might have been Switzerland, and for a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span>
-more decisive deceiving of the eye into thinking
-so the cottages of the peasants had the overhanging
-roof of the Swiss chalet with the same pitch
-and the same arrangement of rows of boulders on
-them. It is a province, also, of trousered women.</p>
-
-<p>We came upon a wistful-eyed, pink-cheeked,
-timid fairy of the mountains. She was carrying
-on her back a huge, barrel-shaped basket and she
-bent forward as she slowly walked along, her eyes
-fixed on a handful of wild flowers in her fingers.
-Even our modest knowledge of the folklore of
-the land told us that she must be a princess who
-had been captured by ugly trolls. They had set
-her to impossible labour as their revenge against
-her beauty. A young man whose niche in the
-world was beyond our determining&mdash;although we
-thought he might be a student on a vacation walking
-trip&mdash;had caught up with us a half-hour before
-and had been measuring his step with ours.
-When he discovered that I wished to take a picture
-of the princess he assisted with such effective
-blandishment of speech that she halted for an instant.
-When I asked that I might also photograph
-him, he laughed and vaulted up among the
-rocks and disappeared.</p>
-
-<div id="Ref_128" class="figcenter" style="width: 469px;">
-<img src="images/i135.jpg" width="469" height="650" alt="" />
-<div class="caption"><p>WE CAME UPON A WISTFUL-EYED, TIMID FAIRY OF THE MOUNTAINS</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>A little farther along we met the six sisters
-of the princess. They were carrying burdens<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span>
-equally as large and heavy as had she, but they
-were not so pretty nor so wistful, albeit they were
-just as timid. We never could find any key to
-the mystery why our appearance along the highway
-would sometimes be as startling as if we
-were ghostly apparitions, and at other times it
-would merely bring about a casual interest and
-staring, if it brought any interest at all. Upon
-this occasion it was a panic. The six maidens beheld
-us, they shrieked in unison, and they jumped
-from the road, trying to hide behind rocks and
-trees. Their lithe limbs might have carried them
-like fawns, if their shoulders had been freed
-from the huge baskets, but, as it was, their flight
-was more like that of some new and enormous variety
-of the beetle tribe, evoluted so far as to wear
-cotton clothes and to have pretty human heads
-turbaned under blue and white handkerchiefs.
-As a son of Daguerre, I should have tarried for
-an instant to photograph their amazing struggle,
-but an upsetting obsession of chivalry hurried us
-on. By the time we turned to look back they
-had scrambled to the road, all six princesses accounted
-for. They, too, turned to look at us
-and from the safety of distance began to laugh.
-The comedy might thus have ended if it had not
-been that at that instant Hori rounded the bend<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span>
-of the road with his thumb pressed vigorously
-against the strident bicycle bell. The beetles (or,
-better to say, the wingless butterflies) again took
-flight. We awaited their second reappearance.
-This time they did not venture laughter until they
-reached the curve and made sure of no further
-dismay.</p>
-
-<p>Hori dismounted and pushed the bicycle along
-and we entered into one of our unending discussions.
-A subject sometimes in debate was O-Owre-san’s
-and my intense interest&mdash;our curiosity&mdash;in
-the conversations that Hori had with passersby
-along the road or in the shops. Sometimes,
-when we had made some simple inquiry in a
-shop, Hori would ask a long question; the shopkeeper
-would answer; Hori would enter a counter
-dissertation; the shopkeeper would make his reply
-to that; Hori would reply; the shopkeeper
-would reply; Hori would reply; and then it might
-be that the shopkeeper would have the conclusion.
-Hori might then turn to us with: “He says
-‘no.’”</p>
-
-<p>In the port city shops where English is spoken,
-if there is but one clerk he will answer your
-questions immediately. If there are two, every
-question is thoroughly discussed in Japanese before
-answering, and if there be three, four, or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span>
-five clerks, the debate goes on to extraordinary
-length. Again and again we asked Hori for a
-complete translation but it must have been that he
-believed within himself that he had asked the
-question in the simplest terms, for we seldom got
-a verbatim translation.</p>
-
-<p>We were in the midst of some such discussion
-when we looked up to see an old man standing
-before us, leaning on a long staff. His white
-beard fell benignly and his steady eyes carried
-a message of goodwill. He returned our greetings
-by a dignified inclination of his head. We
-were at the peak of the road and, as often may
-be found at such points, there was a small rest tea-house
-for travellers. We asked the old man if he
-would sit down with us and share a pot of tea.</p>
-
-<p>The iron pot, filled with mountain spring water,
-steamed hospitably on the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">hibachi</i> and the fragrance
-of the tea was a friendly invitation to relax.
-Our guest stood his long staff in the corner, sat
-down on a cushion, and drew his feet from his
-dusty sandals. After the true manner of happily
-met travellers he was easily persuaded to tell us
-the tale of his wanderings. The translation is
-somewhat rhetorical but, as Hori explained, the
-tale was told in the language of etiquette.</p>
-
-<p>“I was born,” said he, “in the forty-first year<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span>
-of the rule of the Shogun Ienari. I was young
-and am now old. My eighty and seven summers
-have seen the downfall of the once mighty before
-the rising to full glory of the Meiji, and now,
-from the Palace of Yedo, shine upon us the divine
-rays of the Way of Heaven. Great is the
-Mercy of Enlightenment. The Eternal Glory is
-the Way.</p>
-
-<p>“As a child I knew these mountains which you
-see. The provinces of our land were then fortified
-by many castles and these roads were
-traversed by armed men. The castles have been
-razed to the ground but the temples of the gods
-still stand. The two-sworded warriors have gone
-but I, a humble pilgrim, walk the roads they once
-knew. The white clouds rest in the blue sky above
-Fuji-san as when I looked upon them as a child.
-The clouds will rest above Fuji when these eyes
-shall see them not.</p>
-
-<p>“In the fourteenth year of my youth I took
-the vow that my life should be lived in honouring
-the holy images of Buddha, each and all as my
-steps might find them, from the shrines erected
-by the peasants to the bronze statues of the great
-temples. I took the very staff which you see and
-the clothes that were upon my back and bade my
-family good-bye. Through the kindness in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span>
-hearts of men, the lowly and the mighty, the gods
-have provided me with food and rest. I have
-travelled without illness and my spirit has known
-the joy of the Way.”</p>
-
-<div id="Ref_142" class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
-<img src="images/i151.jpg" width="600" height="629" alt="" />
-<div class="caption"><p>“IN THE FOURTEENTH YEAR OF MY YOUTH I TOOK THE VOW THAT MY LIFE SHOULD BE
-LIVED IN HONORING THE HOLY IMAGES OF BUDDHA”</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>In those years that his bowl had not gone empty
-of rice, never, it may be believed, did anyone give
-to him as a beggar asking. Japan is of the East,
-possessing the intuition that the spiritual is a
-mystic interflow.</p>
-
-<p>His eyes were young; they were not clouded
-in contemplation of the abstract. They sparkled
-from a delight in life. It had not been demanded
-of him that his vicarious pilgrimage should be
-one of tragic sacrifice. He had given and he
-had received. While his theoretical faith might
-be that life is an illusion and only the Way is
-eternal, nevertheless he was born to love his
-fellowmen and he could not escape from the practical
-faith that was in him that this temporal life
-must be of some use and of some meaning. I remembered
-in strange comparison a sturdy British
-unemployed whom I had once come upon. He
-was lying under a hedge in Monmouthshire. He
-borrowed a pipeful of tobacco and then turned
-over onto his back to gaze into the blue sky.
-After a time he said: “Activity is a fever. Therefore
-it is a disease. Laziness is a promise. Rest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span>
-and forgetfulness are divine.” He did not make
-the effort to add a good-bye when I left him.</p>
-
-<p>A path of our pilgrim led over the road which
-we had just travelled. We parted, bowing many
-times. Hori unfolded his ravaged map and found
-a village named Narii a few miles farther along.
-The railroad down in the valley according to the
-map went somewhere near Narii. Hori’s nerves
-had been rasped by the temperamental vagaries
-of the bicycle on the steep slopes and he decided
-to await a train, promising to meet us.</p>
-
-<p>After a time our path dropped down to the
-bed of the river. Across a bridge the road forked,
-one branch continuing along the valley and the
-other winding off into the hills. The hill trail,
-particularly as it led into the unknown regions
-off Hori’s map, tempted, and we shouted down
-an inquiry to some children playing in the water.
-They were successfully attempting to get as wet
-as possible while remaining as dirty as possible.
-There is a mystery which overhangs grimy Japanese
-children. When the little noses present a constant
-temptation to the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">seiyo-jin</i> handkerchief that
-in itself is a caste sign that you will find the faces
-of their fathers and mothers unhappy, dull, and
-lustreless. When the children are brightly scoured
-and polished there is a general appearance of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span>
-happiness and contentment in the community. It
-is not the simple equation that poverty equals
-dirt; one village is scrubbed and the next one is
-not&mdash;otherwise neither seems richer nor poorer
-except in happy looks.</p>
-
-<p>When we called to the children in the Kiso they
-splashed out of the water like wild animals and
-scattered in all directions, but as two naked infants
-too small to run had been left on the shore,
-first the girls and then the boys began to edge
-back. They remained to stare. We pointed up
-the mountain path and asked if it led to Narii.
-Their gestures evinced a fierce encouragement to
-essay the ridges as if they had the contempt of
-the untamed for anything as conventional as a
-broad valley road. As a matter of fact they were
-undoubtedly saying that the valley road did not
-lead to Narii. We discovered this later when we
-could look down from the heights. Hori’s railroad
-tunnelled the hills.</p>
-
-<p>According to local belief our path carried us
-over the “backbone” of the empire, and this
-crossing spot is considered sacred ground. Accordingly
-we should have paid special homage to
-the local deity whose shrine we passed, but as we
-were foreigners and in ignorance, the god perhaps
-forgave us. Furthermore, we unknowingly passed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span>
-a particularly renowned view of very holy Mount
-Ontake. We probably did see the mountain, but
-being uninformed, as I said, of this special view,
-we did not hold ourselves in proper restraint
-until reaching the exact spot for appreciation.
-Instead we luxuriously and squanderously revelled
-in all four directions of the compass. It is always
-thus with the ignorant. Their indiscriminate
-enthusiasm is more irritating to the intellectuals
-than no appreciation at all. I was later
-most depressingly snubbed for having missed the
-sacred view by a scholar of things Japanese. He
-knew it from prints and sacred writings. He said
-that he himself would have journeyed to see the
-reality if it had not been for the probable annoyance
-of having to come in contact with so many
-natives on the journey. He appeared to be
-impatient that the British Museum does not commandeer
-all views, temples, and abiding places of
-art around the world and establish turnstiles
-which will keep the natives out and let the scholars
-in. When he actually grasped that our only reason
-for having arrived at that particular spot
-at all was that we had taken a turning to the
-right instead of to the left, he declared that our
-ideas of travelling evidence the same intelligence
-as might the tripping of tumbling beans and that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span>
-our very presence at sacred places was a sacrilege.</p>
-
-<p>We turned a corner that hung sharply over the
-precipice. Around the bend the shelf spread
-out into a miniature meadow. A peasant was
-lying on the grass and his straw-bonneted ox was
-leisurely nibbling. We sat down beside him
-and O-Owre-san began searching in his rucksack
-for a remaining cake of chocolate. During this
-hunt the peasant kept his eyes carefully and
-earnestly averted. I made the remark to him
-that the view was <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja"><a id="a-kirei" href="#kirei">kirei</a></i> and he replied by a nervous
-<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">hei</i>. O-Owre-san found the chocolate and broke
-it into three parts. He handed one of the
-squares to the peasant. The fingers that reached
-out for it were trembling.</p>
-
-<p>The man had imaginative eyes. It was plain
-to see that he was suffering from some lively
-remembrance of a mountain folklore demon story.
-He knew that we were foxes or badgers who
-had assumed human form, and that we had come
-to him with no good intentions. He suspected a
-subtle poison. But he had courage from one
-thought. It is the common knowledge of the
-countryside that while the demands of demon
-badgers may not be directly refused, their evil
-intent may often be thwarted by the crafty intelligence<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span>
-of man. The immediate problem was
-how to avoid the appearance of refusing to eat
-the mysterious cake which was now getting soft
-and moist in his hand. Suddenly he popped the
-chocolate into his mouth, tin foil and all. Then
-he pushed back the square into his hand almost
-in the same movement. I pretended not to be
-watching. He dropped his hand with elaborate
-carelessness into the thickness of the grass. I felt
-a sense of dramatic relievement myself.</p>
-
-<p>During those minutes the ox had been no such
-respecter of enchantment as had his master. Instead,
-he had stood sniffing at our boots and
-pulling up bits of grass round and about our
-ankles, all the time rolling a pair of red, angry
-eyes. Asiatic beasts of burden find something
-antagonistic to their complaisance in the odour
-of the Caucasian and this individual ox was progressing
-toward a positive bovine dissatisfaction.
-Furthermore, we were sitting on the sweetest
-and most tender tufts of grass remaining. We
-courteously dismissed the peasant to go his way.
-His marked alacrity was quite welcome.</p>
-
-<p>We lingered on the grass for a little while and
-I told O-Owre-san my guesses. I elaborated
-them into the hazard that the poor man&mdash;he
-had not once turned to look back over his shoulder&mdash;might<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span>
-even then be fearing that the slight
-taste from the chocolate would turn him into a
-frog and his ox into a stork to eat him up; or
-perhaps he might be in distress that he and his
-beast might grow smaller and smaller until they
-would disappear into thin air.</p>
-
-<p>O-Owre-san had been examining the faintness
-of the path. “I hope none of these things happen
-until the man gets over the hills to Narii. The
-hoof prints make an excellent trail,” he said.</p>
-
-<p>It was time to sling on our packs and follow.
-When we reached the next turn we could see
-the peasant’s straw hat and the ox’s straw bonnet
-bobbing along just over the bush tops. We
-maintained this distance without closing the gap.
-As O-Owre-san had predicted, the hoof marks
-were useful. The path often grew so faint that
-it had no other resolute indication. We had
-been sure, without thought of other possibility,
-that the crest of the hill we were climbing would
-be the summit of the range. When we reached
-the crest we stood looking up at another peak
-rising from a shallow valley at our feet.</p>
-
-<p>“Which way does the ox say to go?” I asked.</p>
-
-<p>The hoof marks were there in the soft earth,
-but where our feet had stopped there they had
-stopped. They stopped as absolutely as if the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span>
-peasant and his ox had been whisked away in a
-chariot to the sunset sky. The bushes were too
-low for concealment. There was no cave, nor
-hole in the earth.</p>
-
-<p>If there be no such thing as magic, in the
-Japanese mountains at least, where did that man
-and his beast go? The disappearance was as complete
-as the most exacting enchanter could have
-desired. We found no answer to the riddle and
-the sun was sinking, adding the next question of
-how we were going to get out of the hills in
-the night time if we delayed for scientific investigation.
-We succumbed to expediency and took
-a five-mile-an-hour pace over such trail as we had
-left, guessing at the turns. When we finally
-reached the next crest, deep in the valley we
-could see Narii. Before descending the steep,
-dropping path, we sat down near a spring where
-the birds had come to drink. They were singing
-evening songs mightily. Bright wild flowers were
-scattered in the open spaces between the intense
-green of the fern patches. The world was lustily
-at peace.</p>
-
-<p>When we did start we swung down the long
-hill almost at a run and in a half-hour reached
-the edge of the village to find Hori sitting under
-a stone lantern in the temple yard. The evening<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span>
-peace had made us positive that this is the best
-of all possible worlds, but Hori was entertaining
-a different idea. He looked exceedingly gloomy.
-We were impatient of any discontent. If he
-had said that men were starving for rice in the
-village beyond, the fitting answer would have
-seemed to us the historic words of the good queen:
-“Give them cake.” Undoubtedly when the message
-about the starving peasants was brought to
-that Lady of France she was sitting under the
-shrubbery at Versailles, and the birds were singing,
-and it was springtime, and perhaps the fountains
-were playing. Impellingly she realized with
-an insight deeper than any historian has ever
-appreciated that upon such a glorious day, if there
-is any such thing as right or justice at all in
-this world, a certain amount of cake should be
-everybody’s inalienable possession.</p>
-
-<p>As it happened, Hori’s worry had nothing to
-do with altruistic sorrow for starving villagers,
-but existed from a lively interest in our own affairs.
-The town was very poor, he explained, a
-town come down in the world from ancient prosperity.
-Its neck was hung with the millstone
-of decayed graces and thinned blood. The inn
-was so old that it was senile. Hori had established
-some excuse before entering the door for inspection<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span>
-which later allowed his rejection of the inn’s
-hospitality, but it would never do for us in
-turn to venture in for a glance around. That
-would be needlessly raising the expectation of the
-ancient host. We would find, he suggested, that
-it would be only five or six or seven miles to the
-next village. As we had had twenty-five or more
-miles behind us and most of those had been along
-mountain paths, we were not so inevitably tempted
-at that hour of night to be particular in a choice
-of roofs as Hori, who had come by train, was
-imagining.</p>
-
-<p>The inn, in truth, was very old. By any law
-of survival chances the wandering wings should
-have burned to earth long ago. To greet us there
-were no smiling and chattering maids gathered
-behind a mistress; instead, an old man and a
-very small girl, his granddaughter or more likely
-his great-granddaughter, met us in the dark
-entrance with protests that the house was unworthy
-of our presence. We hastily denied
-them their words. Hori could employ the polite
-phrases of Japan. We impulsively, directly, and
-bluntly told them “no.” It was not alone the
-pathos of the two figures which appealed. It
-was somewhat that their dignity had not surrendered
-to ruin, and it was somewhat a something<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span>
-else, indescribable, in the atmosphere that
-charmed.</p>
-
-<p>We followed the master along a labyrinthine
-corridor. The soft wood planks of the floor
-had been polished to a deep reddish gleam under
-the bare feet of generations of hurrying <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">ne-sans</i>.
-He led us past inner courtyards to the farthest
-wing. Our room hung over the river at an elbow
-of the stream. Even with the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">shogi</i> pushed wide
-open we were hidden completely from the eyes
-of the town by heavily leafed trees.</p>
-
-<p>The mats on the floor had turned a dingy,
-mottled brown and black from their once light
-golden yellow, but they were clean. The sacred
-<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">takemona</i> corner still compelled its importance.
-It had been built in an age when the demand for
-its existence was the ardent faith of the builders
-rather than an architectural tradition. The room
-was about thirty-five feet long and fifteen feet
-deep, perhaps a little larger. The ceiling was
-proportionately high.</p>
-
-<p>Hori was still doubtful, not gloomily so, but
-from the knowledge that an inn is proved by its
-service. The host was kneeling, as immobile as
-a temple image, awaiting our orders. His skin
-was as bloodless as the vellum of the painting
-which hung behind him. His watchful eyes, however,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>
-were intensely bright in their deep sockets.
-Hori began inquiries about dinner. The ancient
-bowed his head to the floor, drawing in his breath
-sharply against his teeth. Dinner was now being
-prepared for his family, he said, but it would be
-unworthy of his guests. The formal phrase of
-polite deprecation carried this truth, as Hori
-discovered by further questioning; it was not
-that the dinner was or was not worthy&mdash;it was
-the failure of <em>quantity</em>. We should not have long
-to wait, said our host, but food would have to
-be sent for.</p>
-
-<p>As we sat in a circle planning what we should
-have, the old man smiled and pointed to a patched
-square in the matting. Underneath the square,
-he said, was a depression for holding bronze
-braziers. When the nobility, in the old feudal
-times, had travelled the Nakescendo trail, this
-was the room of honour that had been given to
-the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">daimyos</i>. It had been often the custom for
-the retainers of a <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">daimyo</i> themselves to prepare
-his dinner over the braziers. Our sitting there,
-planning what we should have, had reminded him
-of the dead past. His words came slowly as if
-between each word of recollection his spirit journeyed
-back into the very maw of oblivion and
-then had to return again to the world.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“Are the braziers still hidden there?” Hori
-interrupted.</p>
-
-<p>Yes, the braziers were under the floor or somewhere
-to be found.</p>
-
-<p>Hori turned to us and put us through a questioning
-until he rediscovered the word “picnic”
-for his vocabulary. “That’s what we will have,
-a picnic, right here,” he declared, and he turned
-back to the host to explain. The old man almost
-gasped, at least approaching as near to such
-escape of emotion as he probably ever had at
-the request of a guest.</p>
-
-<p>“But you will then have to have a special
-waitress,” he said. “My granddaughter is indeed
-too young for that privilege.” Always when he
-used depreciatory adjectives about the child’s unworthiness
-he failed lamentably to harden his
-caressing tone. She was, however, as he had
-said, little older than a baby. The services of
-a maid we should have to pay for, but, under
-the spell of the conjuring up of the memories of
-those bygone revels in our room, what cared we
-for saving our precious <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">yen</i>? We had become
-reincarnations of the two-sworded swaggerers.
-We waved our arms grandiloquently.</p>
-
-<p>“Tell him to send for fowls for the pot,” we
-oratorically assailed Hori. “Let us mix rich<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>
-sauces and warm the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">sake</i>. And tell him to remember
-that for us there can be but one choice&mdash;the
-maid to serve our dinner must be the prettiest
-maid in all Narii.”</p>
-
-<p>I had not the slightest idea that Hori would
-translate our exact words, but I found later that
-such was his act.</p>
-
-<p>Thus the mountain village of Narii faced a
-problem. Two foreigners, and a Japanese almost
-as alien as a foreigner, had appeared from nobody
-knew where, not preceded, ’twas true, by
-retainers as had been the travellers of old, but
-nevertheless demanded the old-time service with
-as much gusto as if they were accustomed to
-having what they wished. They had asked that
-the prettiest maid in all Narii be called to the
-inn to exercise the privilege of guarding the steaming
-rice box. It was obvious that there could
-be only one prettiest maid, and all Narii knew
-with one mind that the prettiest maid was the
-daughter of the Shinto priest. However, the
-daughter of a priest is not a likely candidate for
-service in an inn, even if the master has ever
-been a faithful devotee of the temple. Nevertheless
-there was the honour of the hospitality
-of Narii at stake. Messengers (or even appropriately,
-it might be said, heralds) were sent to explain<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span>
-the problem to the maid and her father,
-and to use, if necessary, the pressure of “the
-state demands.”</p>
-
-<p>Thus came O-Hanna-san to the inn. (In all
-Japan there cannot be a prettier, a more bashful,
-or a more modest maiden.) Her eyes were downcast
-behind long black lashes. Her soft cheek
-flushed and paled&mdash;perhaps somewhat from the
-excitement of the adventure. Neither she nor
-her friends had ever seen one of that strange race,
-the foreigner. And, indeed, even a priest’s daughter
-may think that to be chosen as the prettiest
-maid&mdash;&mdash;!! Ah, her courage failed her to glance
-up and words would not come to her lips to answer
-their questions, but they did not seem to be
-so very predatory nor so very fearsome&mdash;and they
-were very hungry.</p>
-
-<p>Two great bronze braziers had been filled with
-glowing charcoal. The foreigners and the outer-world
-Japanese who could speak their strange
-words were busily cooking the fowls, chopped into
-dice, and they were arguing about their respective
-talents and abilities, as do all amateur cooks.
-Perhaps she could now look up for an instant
-unobserved. No, a glance met her eyes
-and she felt hot blushes grow again on her
-cheek.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>While they feasted and laughed she had to
-run many times to the kitchen for forgotten dishes.
-When she passed along the hall by the entrance
-to the street she was each time stopped and
-besieged by the questions of the gathered mob.
-(Some of those inquiring investigators had also
-gathered outside the wall of my bath an hour
-before. I had been suddenly aware of an eye
-at every crack and crevice of the boards as I was
-cautiously stepping into the superheated tub.
-There was not a sound, merely the glitter of their
-star-scattered eyes.)</p>
-
-<p>The foreigners put sugar on their rice and one
-of them even put sugar in his tea. They handled
-their chopsticks so awkwardly that it was marvellous
-that they did not spill the rice grains on the
-matting. She thought of the twenty rules in etiquette
-for the proper and graceful use of chopsticks
-and she imagined that if there had been a
-ten score of rules they might have all been
-broken. At last the three feasters finished their
-mighty meal and stretched out on the cushions
-to smoke in deep contentment. She doubted
-whether they had even noticed that her superior
-<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kimono</i> was not such as a maid of an inn would
-possess. After the feast her quick feet, in spotless
-white <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja"><a id="a-tabi" href="#tabi">tabi</a></i>, carried away the bowls and little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span>
-tables. Then she sat down by the door to await
-any further clapping of hands.</p>
-
-<p>The host came in, moving silently across the
-matting. He kneeled and bent his forehead to
-the floor. Before the meal he had himself arranged
-the flowers, in an old iron vase, to stand
-in the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">takemona</i> corner. We tried to express our
-appreciation for the flowers and our admiration
-of the vase.</p>
-
-<p>We asked him how old the inn was. It had
-been his father’s before him, and his grandfather’s
-before his father. Yes, in those days the Nakescendo
-had rivalled the Tokaido, and yearly, on
-the hastening to Yedo to give obeisance to the
-Shogun, the great nobles of the northwest provinces
-with their armed retainers had had to pass
-through Narii. In the pride of their gifts to
-the Shogun, in their numbers, in their courage,
-they had never yielded place to the envoys from
-the great families of the South. This now forgotten
-inn had then been famous. Our room,
-overhanging the river, he repeated, had been only
-given to the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">daimyos</i>. The <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">samurai</i> had crowded
-the other rooms. The inn had boasted a score,
-two score, of trained and pretty <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">ne-sans</i> to wait
-upon those fiery warriors. (The modern <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geisha</i>,
-in many of her accomplishments, is daughter to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span>
-the inn maidens of the feudal days who sang and
-danced and played musical instruments in addition
-to the graces of more domestic duties.) The
-inn had then rung with shouting and laughter,
-and sometimes the dawn of the morning start of
-the cavalcade found the retainers still sitting
-around the feast.</p>
-
-<p>On the road to Yedo their purses had hung full,
-but the great city always plunged both its hands
-into those purses filled from the rice taxes, and
-it was often quite another story&mdash;the return journey
-back to the provincial castles. No rare occurrence
-was it indeed, for some haughty <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">samurai</i>
-to declare in the morning that he could not pay
-his inn bill, however modest it might be. Upon
-one occasion a certain warrior had been forced
-to leave in pledge the first mistress of his heart&mdash;his
-sword. A <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">daimyo</i>, overlord of a province,
-could, of course, never be in debt to an innkeeper,
-although he might leave a <em>gift</em> for his host instead
-of money. When such eventuality as that arose
-the host would declare (wisely) that his hospitality
-had been unworthy of any remuneration and
-that he was a thousand times repaid by the magnificence
-of the gift.</p>
-
-<p>Yes, went on the old man, once a noble upon
-leaving the door had caused a vase to be unwrapped<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span>
-from its encasements of one silken bag
-after another and had given it to the inn. The
-donor had written a poem of dedication with his
-own hand. The vase was shaped like a bottle and
-the inn had been called “The Bottle Inn” from
-that day, seventy years in the past. Our host, a
-youth on that day, had thought that the inn would
-ever be rich and renowned. He sighed. The
-tradition of its renown had faded and been forgotten
-in this age of railways. No longer did
-turbulent guests demand that the bottle be brought
-out and shown.</p>
-
-<p>If his dramatic genius had been subtly leading
-us toward turbulence, we obeyed the pulling of
-the strings. We demanded to know whether the
-vase was still under his roof. Our host smiled.
-The sacred vase was hidden safely. Would we
-like to see it?</p>
-
-<p>He returned, carrying an old wooden box. The
-great-granddaughter dragged the unredeemed
-sword after her. The well-worn scabbard of the
-sword was of mediocre, conventional design, but
-the blade had been forged by one of the famous
-sword makers. Hori read the sword’s origin
-from the characters carved in the steel. The old
-man slowly slipped the sword back into the scabbard,
-leaving us to ponder what might have been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span>
-the tragic fate of the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">ronin</i> that he had never returned
-for his pledge.</p>
-
-<p>No casket of precious metal can be so alluringly
-suggestive of trove as the simple, unpainted,
-pine boxes into which the Japanese put their
-treasures. A woven cord clasped down the lid
-of the box. The untying of it began the breathless
-ceremony. When the lid was lifted we saw the
-first silken wrapping, then came another, and another,
-and another. Some were of brocade, some
-were of faded plain colour,&mdash;red, blue, or rose.
-Finally the drawing string of the last bag was
-pulled open and the old man lifted the bottle.
-It was of yellow pottery with a thick brown
-glaze overrunning the sides. The mouth of the
-vase was capped by a bronze and silver band
-carved with an irregular motif.</p>
-
-<p>The trustee of the possession allowed us to
-pass it from hand to hand.</p>
-
-<p>What was one of our reasons for being in Narii
-at that very moment? It was that our eyes were
-prying for those rarer treasures in Japan which
-may be sometimes gleaned “away from the beaten
-path.” Unaccountable chance had led us to the
-inn. The old man was hopelessly beaten in his
-contest with poverty. I knew that he did not
-wish to sell, but if there should be the jingling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span>
-of a few <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">yen</i>&mdash;was it likely that he could refuse?
-Our eyes were gleaming with desire. Surely,
-even if it were a venal sin to take away the
-bottle from The Bottle Inn the very greatness
-of the temptation would have brought its own
-special forgiveness. But because temptation and
-conscience can generally be argued around to our
-satisfaction, the gods have ironically added impulse
-as the third part of us. It must have been
-some such impulse which was the irrational lever
-which moved us to action. We soared to the
-heights. It was a superior endurance to any
-flight that it is likely either of us will ever attempt
-again. Truly such virtue is more regretted
-than gloried in. We did not take the bottle with
-us. It still functions in its environment, in harmony
-with its tradition. Taken away it could
-be only a superior vase with a history, an object
-of art. In that old inn it is a living part, an
-inspiration. In the forgotten village of Narii no
-numbered museum tag hangs around its neck.</p>
-
-<p>The bottle dropped back into the brocade bag
-lined with faded crimson silk. Then the other
-wrappings, one by one, muffled it. It went into
-the box, the lid was fitted into place, and the cord
-was tied. Do we gain strength from resisting
-such temptation? The writers of the Holy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span>
-Church of the Middle Ages said so. By refusing
-that bottle I merely gained exhaustion. This
-moment I am stifled by the dust of the ashes of
-that murdered passion. My conscience replies
-with no response. It has lost the vitality of recoil,
-and thus, if ever such time may come, I may
-yet glory in a greater vandalism, some supreme
-Hunnish act, and there will be no rasping regret.</p>
-
-<p>The breezes up among the snows of the mountains
-came down into the valley for the night.
-Wherever they were going they seemed to be
-quite undetermined as to their path. They blow
-from every side and into every corner of the
-room by turn. Little by little, to escape the
-draughts, we had kept pushing along the wooden
-shutters until we were at length completely walled
-in. It was not possible to imagine that a few
-miles away, down on the rice plains, the millions
-were nudely stifling while we were going to bed
-to get warm. The daughter of the priest had been
-dragging layers of bedding to the door and, when
-we clapped our hands, she had innumerable mattresses
-for each of us. For once it was unnecessary
-to stretch the mosquito netting. There
-seemed to be nothing left but to blow out the
-lights and cry: “<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">O yasumi nasai!</i>” to the retreating
-patter of her footsteps.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“What’s the midget granddaughter waiting
-for?” I asked Hori.</p>
-
-<p>“She wants you to go to bed,” said he from
-under his quilt.</p>
-
-<p>I jumped into the soft centre of my mattresses
-as requested. Then the butterfly dropped on her
-knees and crept backward around our beds. Out
-of a box she was pouring a train of powder until
-she had us each enclosed in a magic circle.</p>
-
-<p>“Why?” I demanded.</p>
-
-<p>Kenjiro laughed at me.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">nomi-yoke</i>,” he said. “Insect powder&mdash;what
-do you say in America? Bug medicine?”</p>
-
-<p>I insisted that I had not seen the sign of a
-bug or an insect or a flea or anything looking like
-a marauder.</p>
-
-<p>“Of course not,” Hori stopped me as if I
-should have known better. “It’s just courtesy
-to honoured guests, to show you that they would
-wish to protect you if there were any. If there
-were crawlers,” he concluded with some scorn,
-“do you suppose they’d make such an effort to
-call attention to the fact?”</p>
-
-<p>That <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">bushido</i> explanation satisfied Hori but I
-was doubtful. For the sake of verification I carefully
-destroyed the integrity of the rampart
-around my bed by opening up passages through<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span>
-the powder. I was willing to display a few bites
-in the morning to prove the truth. I went to
-sleep dreaming about two-sworded <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">samurai</i> who
-looked like pinch bugs, and they were swaggering
-around a wall of insect powder. However, the
-morning proved that Hori was quite correct. The
-delicate attention had been born of pure courtesy.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub-->
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2>VII<br />
-<span class="titlefont">THE IDEALS OF A SAMURAI</span></h2>
-
-
-<p>In the morning we found great brass basins of
-water waiting for us in the sunny iris garden.
-One of the super-errors that a foreigner can make
-in a native inn is to ask to have the basins
-brought to his room. Such a request can be understood
-only as a perversion, or a barbarity.
-One reason why the houses and inns seem so
-clean is that they eliminate so many of the chances
-for their being otherwise; and this defence might
-be added into the weighing when criticizing Japanese
-nudity at ablutions.</p>
-
-<p>Breakfast was brought to us steaming under
-the lacquer covers of the bowls, but the priest’s
-daughter was not holding the wooden ladle for
-the rice. It was a rather late hour when she had
-returned to her father’s house, but the mothers
-and daughters of a Japanese home are accustomed
-to having their working hours overlap into the
-night. In subtlety we brazenly accused each other
-of having frightened the gentle <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">ne-san</i> into not
-returning. The truth was&mdash;as it afterwards came<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span>
-out&mdash;that we had each found opportunity to hint
-to the host’s ear the night before that the maid’s
-slumber by no means should be disturbed for our
-morning’s start. Thus we each privately thought
-we knew the secret of her non-appearance, but
-just as we were tying on our shoes at the door a
-breathless message was brought by her small
-brother. She had overslept. It had not been
-our late hour which was responsible. The family
-of the Shinto priest had sat up almost until the
-first light in the East to listen to the wonder
-tale of their daughter who had endured such a
-singular and daring adventure.</p>
-
-<p>The ancient host gave us presents and we gave
-him presents. We said our farewells at the door
-and then, after that, he and his granddaughter
-walked along with us half through the village.
-Finally we bowed our formal seven bows of farewell.
-When we reached the end of the street
-we turned and saw them still standing where we
-had left them.</p>
-
-<p>The road led across a wide, flat valley. That
-morning there was a truly extraordinary phenomenon.
-The claret red of the sun flamed and
-danced against the snows of the mountain wall
-at our left. Finally our road broke up into a
-delta of small paths. The soft earth had been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span>
-so cut into ruts by heavy carts that Hori was
-forced to accede to the demands of the bicycle
-that it should be assisted and not ridden, but he
-did not surrender until the wheel had demonstrated
-its malevolence by pitching him a half-dozen
-times off the saddle. Thus we all walked
-along together. The villages were rather mean,
-with the air of having come down in the world.
-Some of the towns, in the days before machinery,
-had had special fame in the various handicrafts;
-one had been known for its hand-made wooden
-combs. Evidently there remain some conservatives
-who have not yet countenanced modern vulcanite
-innovations, as wooden combs were still
-being made for sale. Entire families, from grandparents
-to children, were the manufacturers, the
-factories their own homes. We bought a boxful
-for a few <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">sen</i>. In arriving at a selling price
-they must have valued their time in the manufacturing
-as a gratuitous contribution to the
-arts.</p>
-
-<p>Every once in a while O-Owre-san and I had
-had our pleasure in drawing the long bow of our
-imagination concerning the architectural reason
-for a certain peculiar type of house. A recurring
-example is to be found in nearly every village.
-These buildings are unusually substantial and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span>
-the windows are always heavily barred and shuttered.
-They give a suggestion of descent from
-the castles of feudal days. As I said, we had employed
-our elaborate imagining over the mysterious
-buildings, but our guesses had never
-brought us anywhere near to the truth. Hori
-explained that they are the houses of the pawnbrokers.
-Hori is the son of a <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">samurai</i>. (He has
-the right to wear, if he wishes, the full number
-of crests on his formal <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kimono</i>.) The artists who
-made the old colour prints used to give to the
-eyes of the two-sworded <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">samurai</i> an expression
-of warlike ferocity. When Hori spoke of the
-pawnbrokers his eyes glared, and I was sure that
-I detected his hand starting to reach for the
-sword that has now gone from his girdle. However,
-the ubiquitous bicycle just then swung
-around and entangled him, as a reminder, probably,
-that this is a new age, a mechanical and not
-a feudal one, and that a <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">samurai</i> no longer has the
-general and hearty acquiescence of law and society
-to proceed to direct action against the loathed
-money lender. The law of the land says to-day
-that the pawnbroker must be considered as a free
-and equal citizen, enjoying full rights under the
-mercy of the Mikado; albeit (as the bars and shutters
-of his windows show), the money lender still<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span>
-wisely believes in keeping his powder dry even in
-an age of enlightenment.</p>
-
-<p>When we had extricated Hori from the bicycle
-and we had all got going again, he explained
-why the pawnbroker is the most hated member of
-Nipponese society. Here are some of the other
-remarks that Hori made about pawnbrokers:</p>
-
-<p>They are always rich. (He meant the Asiatic
-wealth,&mdash;hoards of gold, not a checking account
-at a bank.)</p>
-
-<p>They are uncanny.</p>
-
-<p>They lead isolated, unhappy lives.</p>
-
-<p>They always have a beautiful daughter (one
-only) to fall heir to the riches.</p>
-
-<p>This daughter dreams of noble lovers, but no
-Japanese, whatever his rank, be it noble, humble,
-or decayed (or, for that matter, no matter how
-much in debt he may be to her father), would ever
-throw away his pride to wed a pawnbroker’s
-daughter. Thus she is left to grieve out her heart
-in the midst of her father’s luxury.</p>
-
-<p>A Japanese believes certain things patriotically.
-I know that Hori does not believe these same
-things intellectually, for I was once rude enough
-to continue an argument until he capitulated
-intellectually&mdash;but for the love of country and
-the required loyalty to what should be, he also<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span>
-keeps to the beliefs which he should have as
-a Japanese. After all, juxtapositioned to such
-faith, mere intellectual judgment does seem lacking
-in vital fluid.</p>
-
-<p>The hiatus in Hori’s Japanese life&mdash;the foreign
-period and influence&mdash;began when he was of the
-high school age and went to America. Thus,
-at the time when the mind is supposed to be most
-receptive, he was separated from the traditions
-and ethical customs of his homeland, and he made
-no return home until he had left his American university.
-A peculiar duality may come from such
-a training. It would be impossible otherwise, for
-instance, that one individual should really appreciate
-both a symphony orchestra and a <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">samisen</i>,
-not so much from the angle of technical divergence
-in the use of notes, tones, and scales as in
-aesthetic comparison. To any human being with
-emotional sensitiveness and response, not possessing
-a dual personality, acknowledgment of the
-rights of the symphony would seem to preclude
-those of the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">samisen</i>.</p>
-
-<p>I had lost my Japanese pipe. Those little iron
-bowls continue to be a most admirable luxury
-through all of the days that one is in the land of
-their invention. When the traveller leaves the
-shores of Japan he takes away with him packages<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span>
-of silken tobacco and his pipe, only to find that
-he never lights it again. The charm is broken
-when the circle is broken, and the circle, I suppose,
-is a unity when one is lying on the cushions
-of a balcony overlooking a garden, and a maid
-brings the charcoal <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">hibachi</i> and a pot of tea.
-You touch the bowl of the pipe to the fire and
-then&mdash;three puffs and a half. You knock the ash
-into a bamboo cup. Perhaps the maid refills
-the pipe, touches it to the charcoal, and hands it
-to you again.</p>
-
-<p>Ordinarily these pipes are sold everywhere, but
-at Narii we could not find them. When we were
-walking into Shiogiri I asked Hori to help me
-keep an eye on the shops as we passed. After a
-time he said: “Here we are. Here’s a one-price
-store.”</p>
-
-<p>We had not come upon just such a shop before.
-While the stock and the arrangement was purely
-native, the atmosphere of the place was distinctly
-un-Japanese. A little of everything was for sale,
-but instead of the selling being a social ceremony,
-the shopkeeper and his wife and his sons and his
-daughters were expeditious clerks and not hosts.
-The entering customer asked for what he wished
-to see, and a price tag told him the cost. That
-was the beginning and the end of any bargaining.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>In the conventional shop the buyer sits down
-leisurely, after removing his <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geta</i>, and perhaps
-has a cup of tea. If an ordinary utility is wished,
-the negotiating is necessarily devoid of much opportunity
-for extended approach, consideration,
-and conclusion, but it is always to be remembered
-that our idea of what is a waste of time may be
-the Japanese idea of a valuably used moment.
-The little shops have no opening and closing hours.
-Literally, there is all the time there is. The
-clerk does not sell eight, nine, or ten hours of
-his day to his employer. He sells all of it.
-As it is impossible to keep at high pressure for
-maybe twenty hours of the twenty-four (and
-twenty hours is not an exaggeration in some instances)
-nature’s insistence for rest has to come
-out of the working day. The fact that the workers
-are not awaiting the striking of a clock for
-their liberty, but are more or less taking it as
-it comes, accounts for what is often a mystery
-to travellers, the easy gaiety of a busy Japanese
-street. Workmen put down their tools and stop
-for a visit; the shopkeeper chats indefinitely
-with a customer; the maids at the inns have
-plenty of time to light pipes for the guests and
-pour tea. Our idea is that the individual’s liberty
-begins at the sharp demarcation of the hour<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span>
-which ceases to belong to the employer. After
-the wanderer has lived for a time in the midst
-of the Oriental system, the impression comes that
-time is a continuous flow and that it is not a succession
-of intervals as it is with us. The people
-of the East have even found a counteracting
-thrust to oppose the tyranny of the railroad schedule.
-By arriving at the station indefinitely early
-they can show their contempt for definite departures.</p>
-
-<p>While we were buying my new twelve-<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">sen</i> pipe
-in the Shiogiri one-price store, Hori commented
-with obvious emphasis several times that he was
-pleased that the prices were so carefully marked
-on the tags. As smoking may at any time become
-a ceremony, I spent many minutes in my
-selection, and through these minutes Hori kept
-dropping his pointed comments, but I stored away
-the impression of his satisfaction over the price
-tags to be asked about later. An appropriate
-time did not come for several days. An hour
-came when we were lounging on an inn balcony
-in the soft night air.</p>
-
-<p>It seemed that our method of shopping was the
-disturbing pressure against Hori’s peace of mind.
-We two foreigners undoubtedly had many flaws
-which came to light under the wear of intimate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span>
-association, but it was this one which at last
-drove Hori to the verge where he had to unburden
-his feelings. In the curio shops, or wherever
-we were making purchases, when we came
-upon something that interested us, we immediately
-asked: “How much?” It had been natural,
-when Hori was with us, to rely upon him
-to interpret rather than to employ our own
-cumbrous methods of transmitting ideas. As
-soon as we received an intimation of the bargain
-price we proceeded to the bargaining and
-continued until we arrived at what was presumably
-the lowest compromise of the shopkeeper.
-Hori had also noticed that we sometimes put off
-deciding whether we really wished to purchase
-until we discovered the eventual price. We quite
-reversed the ceremonial purchase making enacted
-by a Japanese gentleman. As Hori witnessed it,
-the difference was meaningful. The Japanese collector
-looks first of all at an object to see whether
-it merits his attention. If it does, there follows
-an extended conversation about its intrinsic excellence.
-Every question as to artistic value,
-authenticity, age, workmanship, uniqueness&mdash;these
-are all settled before a word about the price arises.
-If the object does not equal his demands of it, the
-collector departs without inquiry about the money<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span>
-value&mdash;for why should he be interested in the
-cost of an article if not in the article itself?</p>
-
-<p>Hori shook his head sadly. “You always ask
-right away: ‘How much?’” he said. “That
-sounds very mercenary to us. It looks as if you
-were more interested in cheapness than quality.”</p>
-
-<p>We had not suspected that Hori was writhing
-when, under the pressure of our Occidental impetus,
-he had been asking for us the questions of
-price. As a matter of fact, be it to his credit
-and our discredit, despite the simplification of
-his quick interpreting against our imperfect use of
-the few words that we did know, when it came
-to the detail of price our efforts often seemed to
-be able to effect a more extraordinary drop from
-the original quotation than when such arguing
-was put off until all other details were settled.
-It is true that the merchants who have really
-fine things will not show nor sell their best to
-customers whose appreciation they doubt, but
-it may also be true that as far as we did have
-appreciation, we made up our minds more quickly
-than does the Japanese collector, and thus the
-stages of consideration which Hori missed were
-not so much lacking as they were abbreviated.</p>
-
-<p>The standards of the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">samurai</i> when he goes
-forth to make purchases should not be confused<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span>
-as being an index to the methods of modern
-Japan in attacking the world’s markets. In such
-trading there is no nation which is more intent
-upon giving the customer what the customer
-thinks he wants, and price and profit are sufficiently
-an affair of cold business to be safely
-refrigerated against any germs of sentimentalism.
-Hori was speaking as the son of the civilization
-which flowered in the feudal days. Whatever
-that civilization was, it was not commercial. In
-that old régime the shopkeeper was only a shopkeeper,
-and a discussion of ethics in trade occupied
-little space in the code of honour of the
-nation. When Hori’s fathers stopped to buy a
-fan or a bronze or a roll of brocade or sandals
-for their feet, or whatever it might be that they
-wished, bargaining stopped as soon as they
-reached the end of their patience&mdash;and they were
-most impatient warriors. They might arrogantly
-pay what was asked, or, if their patience
-was too far gone, they might lop off the head
-of the obdurate merchant. The last probability
-had a tendency to keep prices fairly near to an
-equitable level when the two-sworded men were
-purchasers.</p>
-
-<p>It is not an appreciated trait in the modern
-world to have contempt for money. Japan’s nobility,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span>
-when the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">Shogun</i> ruled, had sincere contempt
-for money. There is something dramatic,
-even noble, in having such a contempt, but it
-must be said that it is a much easier possession
-to maintain if back of it the possessors have the
-inalienable ownership of their landed estates.
-The descendants of the ancient orders in Japan
-do not own the land to-day and, examining their
-position in the cold light of fact, their contempt
-for any consideration of things commercial is
-the sign-board finger pointing to their eventual
-elimination. It was the miracle of all time when
-those noble families responded to the necessity of
-the new order, forced upon Japan by the outside
-world, and gave up their feudal right to the land
-to the Emperor for a more democratic distribution.
-They not only surrendered their land in response
-to the Emperor’s edict, but they metamorphosed
-their sons into statesmen to help carry
-through the ideal. Their children went to foreign
-lands and laboured at menial tasks to learn the
-ways of the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">seiyo-jin</i>. Returning home they recognized
-that the standards both of commerce and
-ordinary trade had to be raised. Their encouragement
-to their country to proceed along new
-lines was practical and effective; nevertheless few
-were the sons of the nobility who themselves entered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span>
-the world of commerce. Rather was it that
-they encouraged a middle class to rise. Even
-with no longer a perpetuation of power through
-landed estates, the old aristocracy has so far
-continued to exert the preponderating influence
-in national leadership. Can they continue to
-cherish a contempt of money and at the same
-time withstand the power of the new commercial
-class which is becoming richer every year while
-they are becoming poorer? Can they prove that,
-even in this age, honour and loyalty need not have
-to go hand in hand with money, and that poverty,
-second only to death, is not the great leveller?</p>
-
-<p>Curiously, indeed, the abandon which comes
-from contempt for wealth by this class in Japan
-has had a bullish effect in one small department
-of world trade. Westerners first thought of
-Japan as a nation so given over to aestheticism
-that it used its hours in creating beautiful works
-of art and then admiring them. In those early
-days examples of their highest achievement in art
-were to be found at incredibly low prices. For
-a decade or two after its ports were forced open
-by the foreigner, the country was absorbed in
-adjusting itself to meet conditions unique to its
-traditions. It was a revolution which had to endure
-the strain of the uncompromising lavishness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span>
-of war without the excitement of war. In such
-a period “priceless” art objects had their price.
-Those objects of art had been so intimately associated
-with the calm of the old order in its
-social and religious system that when that order
-gave ground the Japanese disregarded such possessions.
-It was then that gold lacquer boxes
-were either sold for a sum equal to the mere
-salvage of the gold or else melted in the furnace.</p>
-
-<p>Those first years of readjustment presented the
-glorious days for the foreign collector. Then
-came reaction. To their own bewilderment the
-Japanese awoke to find that their love for the
-beautiful had not been merely an appendage of
-the feudal system. They began to compete for
-their own treasures. Prices began to advance to
-the mystification of the foreign buyers. The Japanese
-aristocrats were entering into collecting with
-that abandon which can exist only through sincere
-contempt for money. Thus it is that very few
-fine things now come out of Japan. Japan is
-poor, desperately poor, and it would seem that our
-millionaires should easily outbid them, but to a
-mind commercially trained, eventually there enters
-a consideration of price. To the son of the old
-Japanese nobility there is no such consideration
-except the limit of his purse. I heard the story<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span>
-of a young nobleman who desired a certain Korean
-antique. His wealth was about six hundred
-thousand <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">yen</i>. Like the Roman youth who shook
-dice, hazarding himself to become the slave of his
-opponent should he lose, this young Japanese entered
-the bidding until it was his last <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">yen</i> which
-bought the antiquity. The dilettante does not
-bid successfully against that spirit.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub-->
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2>VIII<br />
-<span class="titlefont">MANY QUERIES</span></h2>
-
-
-<p>In abrupt change as we neared Shiogiri the
-people grew more prosperous and more smiling.
-One housewife along the way was busy with a
-gigantic baking in the sun. I have forgotten just
-what she said the small cakes were which she was
-patting out so expeditiously by the hundred.
-Her hands coquettishly fell into error in her routine
-when we wished her good-day. She had
-an adventurous spirit behind the work-a-day
-masque of her face. Inordinate questioners as
-we could generally prove ourselves, it was she
-who took and kept the lead in every kind of interrogation.
-She wanted to know all about the great
-world over the ridge of mountains which stopped
-her sight. She followed this questioning with an
-exposition of facts which she already knew about
-foreigners. She could be quite sure, she said,
-that the information which she had previously
-collected through gossip had in no way been adulterated
-by exaggeration. The proof was that
-we looked exactly as she had hitherto imagined<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span>
-foreigners. This comment was more interesting
-than flattering. Her anecdotes about foreigners
-were fluently parallel to the tales about pagans
-which I used to hear as a child from the cook
-when she returned from her missionary circle.</p>
-
-<p>I asked our hostess if she would let me take her
-picture. My hesitation in asking was an unnecessary
-contribution to the proceedings. She was
-much pleased. She patted down her hair, rubbed
-her cheeks with a pale blue towel until they were
-rosy red, and then dusted her hands and arms
-with rice powder. After that she ran into the
-house to reappear without her trousers. Hori
-told her quickly that foreigners are greatly
-shocked to see women in skirts. We appropriately
-pretended to be unseeing long enough for
-the hasty redonning of the discarded trousers and
-then the camera clicked.</p>
-
-<p>Foreigners, particularly missionaries, are by no
-means unknown in the quarter of Shiogiri built
-around the railway station. The town is a rather
-important junction. At the new inn the servants
-who met us at the door told us that they knew
-just what the foreigner likes. We in our obstinacy
-refused to like what the foreigners who
-had come before us had said that they liked. It
-was one of the least happy of all our rests.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>The service in the shiny new inn had lost the
-spontaneity, the not-to-be-imitated bloom of the
-<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">yado-ya</i> which makes each guest believe that he is
-the most honoured. It had resolved into the
-inevitable mortification which comes from trying
-to please two masters. When they asked whether
-we wished native dishes or foreign dishes for
-dinner, we kept insisting that we wished Japanese
-fare, but the inn could not shake itself free from
-compromises and we had a native dinner cooked
-after some imagined foreign style; just as we
-would have had a semblance of a foreign dinner
-cooked in the native pots if we had consented to
-act our proper parts as <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">seiyo-jins</i>. The trouble
-with such in-between places is not so much that
-they are jerry-built or that the ignorance of <em>why</em>
-is naturally followed by an ignorance of <em>how</em>, but
-that something essentially vital has been abstracted;
-the fire has gone, and the result is a
-listless lassitude.</p>
-
-<p>Across the street was the entrance to another
-inn, with an electric sign at the gate and with
-two rows of paper lanterns hanging over the
-path. While we were taking a walk and looking
-in at the shops Hori picked up the information
-from someone that the rival establishment to ours
-was half inn, half <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geisha</i> house, that the maids, in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span>
-fact, were country <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geishas</i>. Every <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geisha</i> must
-have a <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geisha’s</i> ticket from the government to follow
-her vocation of innocent amusing. All <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geishas</i>
-are not innocent, but says the government, if
-they are not they must possess another license.
-Through its varieties and grade of licenses the
-government relies largely upon maintaining order;
-thus, much of the work of the police is devoted to
-social regulation to prevent disorder rather than
-to the otherwise necessity of curbing it after it
-breaks forth. In any social system, whether the
-general scheme reaches out for the ideal or not,
-if the cogs fit in smoothly enough to work at all,
-the logical conclusion reads that the better the
-machine runs the more nearly have the everyday,
-actual wishes of the people been satisfied. In
-Japan the social regulations and the demands of
-the popular moral standard appear to mesh without
-much friction. This does not mean that the
-social problem has been solved, but it does mean
-that the compromise has measurably been made
-with eyes open and thus some evils have been successfully
-eliminated.</p>
-
-<p>The <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geisha</i> tea-houses have their special licenses,
-and inns have special licenses. While many combinations
-of licenses are possible, it is contrary to
-custom to issue a permit to a <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geisha</i> house to have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span>
-all the privileges of an inn. Hori thought that
-there might be licenses of that sort issued in the
-smaller provincial towns such as Shiogiri. Whatever
-the facts were, such a combination license
-would seem to be contrary to the usual intent of
-the regulations. The government proceeds about
-its business of regulation without much sentiment,
-but it does seek by its very system of labelling to
-secure to the innocent the assurance of travelling
-through the kingdom without unwittingly having
-to come into contact with vice. The traveller is
-supposed to be able to go to an inn without having
-to inquire whether it is also a questionable
-tea-house.</p>
-
-<p>It might seem that the easiest way to have
-found out what was the exact status of the inn
-across the street would have been to have walked
-there and asked. Hori, however, was lukewarm
-for any such investigation. I discovered in this
-mood of Hori’s cosmos a trait more interesting
-than the entire subject of licenses. The intuition
-came suddenly in a wholeness. This trait might
-have been called patriotic, a patriotism so very
-broad that in the first inkling it seemed narrow.
-He had a deep desire that we should understand
-Japanese ideals, and his process of thought was
-that while he believed that to understand Japan<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span>
-we must see everything, nevertheless at all times
-there should be a certain normality in the seeing.
-As he explained, many Japanese customs and
-modes of thought, puzzling at first, are quite
-comprehensible when the entire fabric is examined.
-He did not wish to have certain squares of the
-embroidery held up to be criticized without the
-offset of properly contrasting squares. Naturally
-his own impetus often carried him a little beyond
-that normal into looking for the bright and golden
-patches and ignoring the dull ones. I think he
-was theoretically right, but most of us have a
-childish overconfidence in our maturity and we
-do not wish to have it doubted that we are
-capable observers even of the abnormal. Experience
-has not trained us to follow, even if we
-wished, an idealized instruction. Thus I am afraid
-that O-Owre-san and I remained recalcitrant
-observers most of the time and in our own way
-used our philosophical microscopes in grandiose
-attempt to disintegrate the atom and conclude
-the infinite.</p>
-
-<p>It is true that the most balanced mind can be
-poisoned by an impression. We are sensitized
-to light and shade. The traveller who goes to
-one of the great capitals of the world and endures
-as his first impression a visit to the dregs of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span>
-underworld forever finds the darkness of that
-shadow over his concept of aught else. This comparison
-is indeed putting a superlative exaggeration
-upon Hori’s not wishing to go to the inn-tea-house
-across the street. Just because I happened
-to glean something of his attitude about our
-excursion as a whole from that particular incident
-did not mean that he was attaching particular
-importance to it. The subject was dropped
-and as we were all tired, we went to bed, and allowed
-the double row of paper lanterns to swing
-on in the breeze without our three figures casting
-shadows on the path beneath, and the question
-that interested me about what sort of a license
-had been issued there was never settled.</p>
-
-<p>The next morning O-Owre-san and I were off
-at an early hour, leaving Hori to follow on the
-bicycle. The heavy dew had clotted the dust
-and the cobwebs were glistening. It was so cold
-that we fell into our fastest gait, but perversely
-the town kept creating some new and picturesque
-allurement to slow our stride at almost every
-pace. Many of the most important houses had
-the dignity of villas. I suppose the owners of
-those houses look upon the town’s activity as a
-railway junction not as a crowning glory but
-as a deplorable disturbance. Before the railroad<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span>
-was dreamed of, Japan’s aristocracy had cherished
-that particular hillside overlooking the view of
-the valley with the snow ridges beyond. The
-prosperous shopkeeping streets were busy even
-at our early hour; boys and girls were flushing
-the pavements, fanning out the water from
-wooden dippers; the fathers were taking down
-the shutters; and the mothers were giving indiscriminate
-directions while they rubbed their eyes
-and pulled their <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kimonos</i> straight. Many greeted
-us with a cheery “<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">O-hayo</i>.”</p>
-
-<p>At the edge of the town a temple gate stood
-invitingly open and we entered the garden and
-crossed a diminutive bridge to an island. We sat
-down to listen to the birds, admire the butterflies,
-and watch the gold and silver fish bob out of the
-water. The silent temple, hidden in the shadows
-of the trees, was built after the noble lines of the
-Kyoto tradition and may have been contemporary
-with that era. We were waiting for Hori. We
-knew that we had several intricate turnings before
-we should come to our mountain road to
-Kama-Suwa, and we were indulging ourselves
-that morning in unwonted conservatism over the
-possibility of a mistake. We sat for some time
-waiting to hear the jangling of the bicycle bell,
-but as no such sound came from the distance and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span>
-as the sun had not warmed the air, we decided to
-take the most attractive turns that came, right or
-wrong. The street that intrigued our fancy
-wound delightfully between large country houses.
-While there was nothing except the trees and a
-certain pervading atmosphere to suggest the
-English country, nevertheless there was the instinctive
-feeling that within those screened, luxurious
-houses the sleeping families were quality
-folk, a class never forgetting that their position
-carries responsibilities, duties, and privileges. To
-meet a panting coolie dragging a ’ricksha along
-an English lane would strike one not only as
-strange but ridiculous. To have seen a gate open
-that morning in the outskirts of Shiogiri and
-to have had a shining British dogcart swing out
-into the road atop the heels of a cob would have
-seemed neither incongruous nor absurd. That’s
-the reward the English achieve from their devout
-worship of the correct. In any corner
-of the globe when the beholder finds people
-getting serious about form, his mind immediately
-institutes a comparison with the British
-standard.</p>
-
-<div id="Ref_168" class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
-<img src="images/i179.jpg" width="600" height="468" alt="" />
-<div class="caption"><p>WE DECIDED TO TAKE THE MOST ATTRACTIVE TURN, RIGHT OR WRONG</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>We walked on into a maze of hills. In the
-age of chaos the mountain range had tried to
-turn to the south but, meeting some powerful opposition,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span>
-had been rolled back over on itself.
-When we came to the meeting of a half-dozen
-crooked paths there was no possible guess for
-our direction. We sat down in the sun for a few
-minutes, allowing that much time to good fortune
-to send us help, if the god of luck should so
-wish to aid, before attempting anything on our
-own initiative. We were sent two farmers whom
-we almost lost through their sudden surprise upon
-seeing us spring up out of the bowels of the earth.
-However, they had only been startled, and they
-did not think we were transformed demons. They
-entered into an energetic discussion of our route,
-insisting that we take the trail which was the
-faintest of all and which seemingly wandered off
-in the most irresponsible way. It first crossed a
-footbridge over the stream. One of the men
-dug a map in the dust with his toe. We finally
-parted with bows and protestations of gratitude
-and they stood in the valley and directed us on
-our climb as long as we could see them. Then
-they waved a final adieu and started on their own
-path.</p>
-
-<p>It was decidedly a short cut they had disclosed.
-When we were on a summit we discovered Hori
-far below wheeling over the long valley road and
-undoubtedly wondering why he did not overtake<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span>
-us. Probably a ’ricksha could get through those
-hills by keeping to the lower paths, but neither
-our generation nor that of our children’s children
-will find those narrow trails made over into
-motor highways. For generations the tramper will
-have his “unspoiled” Japan. It is true that
-east to west the mountains have been pierced by
-two lines of railway and the foot trails sometimes
-cross the steel, but now that the railroads have
-been built the trains running through the valleys
-and plunging into the tunnels seem to be as alien
-to, as outside the lives of the mountain folk, and
-as little considered in their existence as the invisible
-messages hastening along the telegraph
-wires. Japan has been opened to the world and
-science has brought an infinite change to the
-Japan that we think of, but over those mountain
-paths long lines of coolies stagger with their loads
-of merchandise as did they in the days before
-wheels were invented. Many of the coolies are
-women and girls. Over the steep miles the backs
-of the little girls are bent under chests which,
-thrown to the ground, would be large enough for
-playhouses. I know nowhere else in the world
-where faces do not grow stolid and stupid under
-such strain, but these women and little girls often
-turn upon you faces not only pretty but even<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span>
-strangely beautiful as they raise their heads for a
-quick glance. Their wistful eyes ask unanswerable
-questions. You feel as if they were eternally
-pondering the <em>why</em>.</p>
-
-<p>I do not mean that such glimpses can bring
-more than a merest intuition of a people’s attitude
-toward life. Such a gossamer web of intuition
-is a personal speculation, but it may be not
-too presumptuous for foreign eyes to make a
-diagnostic examination of physical characteristics
-and to believe that some truth may be reached
-from accumulated observations. While the Japanese
-nation is old in history and civilization,
-and while time’s hammer has made the people as
-nearly homogeneous as is synthetically possible,
-nevertheless their predominant physical characteristic
-is that as a race they are youthful in vitality.
-The coolie bends his shoulders to as heavy a load
-as he can carry, but also does the coolie of Southern
-India. Existence seems to offer not much more
-in prizes to one than the other beyond the promise
-of the opportunity to labour day after day until
-death, but in the Indian’s face one reads that the
-draught of unquestioning acceptance of fate was
-drunk by his fathers ages ago. That strong arch
-of the Japanese jaw means <em>future</em>. The struggle
-among nations for dictatorship may end in competition’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span>
-giving the award to the people having
-the best teeth.</p>
-
-<p>We passed two or three lonely, terraced farms
-where the earth was being coaxed and coddled not
-to run away, but through most of the hours of the
-climb the mountain sides were a forest reservation
-serving as a reservoir to save the water of the
-streams for the lower valleys. When we came to
-a spring gushing from the hill we drank, an action
-which is sternly warned against, and probably
-with absolute justification. However, with a
-four-mile-an-hour pace under the July sun thirst
-becomes positive. We mixed into the clear water,
-against any lurking germs, the antidote of deciding
-to consider ourselves immune. After a time
-our trail brought us down again into the valley,
-and it was not until then that Hori caught up
-with us although he had been circling around the
-base of the hills at full speed. He found us
-locked in a bargaining struggle with a gooseberry
-peddler. The man was carrying his produce in
-a bucket swung at one end of a yoke across his
-shoulders, and his pensive little daughter was
-balancing the load by sitting in the other bucket.
-Our first advances had unutterably confused his
-wits, beginning with the logical wonderment why
-two pedestrians miles from any town should wish<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span>
-to buy green gooseberries. As the bargaining
-continued his puzzlement was relieved by a sudden
-lightning suspicion. We were not buying gooseberries,
-we were trying to buy his daughter! It
-seemed so discourteous to rob him of his hard
-thought out solution that I urged O-Owre-san
-strongly to adopt the child and carry her off in
-his rucksack. It was just then that Hori arrived.
-He jerked the demon bicycle to a stop and vaulted
-to the ground. At first he was as uncomprehending
-of why we wished to load up with green
-gooseberries as had been the peddler, but that
-night he fully acknowledged the value of our
-whim when the berries, stewed in sugar, stood
-before him.</p>
-
-<p>I had taken the camera out of my pack but
-the man was most suspicious of it. We compromised
-that I should stand up and show just
-what taking a picture was. As soon as I made
-the demonstration his quick refusal against such
-devil’s work followed. Quite by chance the camera
-had clicked during the demonstration.</p>
-
-<p>April-like showers had been tumbling upon us
-now and again without disturbing the sunshine.
-We had one more long climb and then found ourselves
-with Lake Suwa far below. The town
-of Kama-suwa rested on the farther shore of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span>
-lake in a narrow line of houses. Despite the
-rain flurries the day seemed very clear, but we
-did not have the famous first view of O-Fuji-san
-which sometimes gloriously greets the traveller
-when he stands, as did we, suddenly on the heights
-above the lake. On those rare days the mountain
-rises against the blue sky, the vista coming through
-a sharp gap in the granite hills, and casts its
-image on the grey-blue waters. This is the view
-from the north. The conventional view is from
-the south, but the sacred mountain lessens never
-in beauty as the worshipper circles the paths about
-its base, north, south, east, or west. Like a
-glorious and beautiful soul, its moods change
-while it changes not.</p>
-
-<p>Is it idolatrous to worship Fuji? Is it pagan
-to love its beauty, to feel one’s spirit freed for
-a brief moment, forgetful of experience tugging
-at one’s elbow, of caution, of fear, of expediency,
-of pride?</p>
-
-<div id="Ref_184" class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
-<img src="images/i197.jpg" width="600" height="584" alt="" />
-<div class="caption"><p class="center">IS IT IDOLATROUS TO WORSHIP FUJI?</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub-->
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2>IX<br />
-<span class="titlefont">THE INN AT KAMA-SUWA</span></h2>
-
-
-<p>The railway train with its sly befuddling
-through the luxury of speed has picked the traveller’s
-wallet. Cooped behind a smudged window,
-how can he sense the personality of the town he
-enters? One should stand in isolation on the
-heights above a city, and then follow down some
-path until within the streets one is absorbed by
-the throbbing life. (Hobo Jack, <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">ipse dixit</i>. And
-is this not true?)</p>
-
-<p>To appreciate Kama-Suwa’s surcharge of culture,
-prosperity, and importance, the reader should
-think of a small city in Kansas (one of those
-temperate, prosperous, ideal cities of which one
-has a vividly exact idea without the proof or
-disproof from having visited it). I say this,
-knowing only the standardized impression of
-those ideal cities, but often a common, standardized
-impression may be more expeditious, not
-to say more valuable, or even more truthful, to
-communicate a comparison than the truth itself.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span>
-Thus, by such a comparison let Kama-Suwa be
-known.</p>
-
-<p>The Kama-Suwa streets are filled with good
-citizens; the shops are superior, the town has
-“as fine a school system as you could find anywhere”;
-the temple is “well supported”; and
-there are not any very poor people. Also the
-town has famous hot springs and famous views.
-In the age when Nature was distributing her
-gifts she favoured Suwa with excessive partiality,
-in anticipation, perhaps, of the future births of
-to-day’s appreciative, virtuous, honest, and industrious
-Kama-Suwans.</p>
-
-<p>We had had a good report of a certain inn in
-the town and, after we reached the path around
-the shore, Hori went ahead on the bicycle to
-prepare the way. The machine’s parts were
-working together with remarkable smoothness that
-day, perhaps because its superfluous temper had
-been cooled down through its having been left
-out in a short, hard beating rain while we were
-taking refuge under a tree. We promised Hori
-to hurry, but we did not. The mountains overhanging
-the lake were responsible in the beginning
-for our forgetting our word, but we augmented
-that beginning by finding some cause for
-a violent argument, one of those tempestuous<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span>
-discussions which gain their heat from the insidious
-conceding of small points. An obstinate,
-unyielding opponent who stays put is a far more
-satisfactory antagonist. We were well into the
-town before we discovered that we were hemmed
-in by houses. The interruption which opened our
-eyes was a polite pulling at our sleeves. One
-waylayer, out of the many who had surrounded
-us, had cast away in despair the usual Japanese
-respect for not touching the person.</p>
-
-<p>Why our entry had created such excess of
-excitement we could not imagine. We had grown
-<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">blasé</i> in our role of being interesting exhibits.
-One may even grow so accustomed to having an
-interest taken in every detail that a lack of
-acknowledgment of curiosity seems the abnormal.
-This time mere curiosity did not appear to be
-the factor. Each waylayer was trying to speak.
-In the confusion I could not catch one familiar
-word. I knew most of the names that are sometimes
-cried at foreigners in the port cities, but
-there was nothing hostile in the present attack.
-As a sedative I tried to ask the way to the inn
-but my simple question increased the babel. We
-had no answer that we could understand. We had
-been smiling and bearing the mystery, and there
-was no choice but to continue so doing. Every<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span>
-shopkeeper in the street was apparently out now,
-helping to gesticulate if not to add words. We
-had continued walking and we came to an open
-space. All the brown hands simultaneously
-pointed in a dramatic sweep across a swampy
-field. On the roof of a large, new building stood
-Kenjiro Hori. He had changed into a <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kimono</i>
-which he was modestly trying to hold around him
-in the freshening breeze and at the same time
-to wave a huge white sheet with all the energy
-of his other wiry arm.</p>
-
-<p>When we reached the door Hori had come
-down from the roof. He was very expeditious
-in his instructions to the servants and our shoes
-were off and we were in our room before we
-had a chance to ask a question.</p>
-
-<p>“Now that we’re <em>settled</em>&mdash;&mdash;” Hori began with
-a slight accent on the “settled.” He then hesitated.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes?” we inquired.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, I was just going to ask whether you
-wouldn’t rather dry your clothes and take a bath
-before we go exploring around the town.”</p>
-
-<p>As O-Owre-san had been answering that question
-by hanging up his wet clothes and getting
-into a cotton <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kimono</i>, it did not seem to require
-argument.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“Is the bath ready?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s always ready&mdash;natural hot springs,” Hori
-answered.</p>
-
-<p>I stacked up some cushions and stretched out
-in comfort along the balcony. I sipped tea and
-smoked until I was sure O-Owre-san would not
-be returning for something forgotten. I had been
-suspecting that Hori’s nonchalance had clay feet.</p>
-
-<p>“O-Hori-san,” I asked, “what did you say
-was the name of this inn?”</p>
-
-<p>O-Owre-san was always off to the bath as soon
-as his feet were inside an inn. This time I had
-marvelled that the habit was so strong that he
-could put off attempting to solve the mystery
-of our reception, especially as Hori’s naïve casualness
-suggested that he knew the kernel of the
-mystery.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s a new inn. Very good, don’t you think?”
-Hori answered my question.</p>
-
-<p>“What is the secret?” I demanded. It was
-evidently very dark and if the facts had to be
-modified in the telling, I thought that perhaps
-they might come forth less modified for me than
-for O-Owre-san. The other inn had been one
-of our few planned quests. “Why didn’t we
-go to the other inn?”</p>
-
-<p>It may have been most unfair to use such a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span>
-direct method of questioning, especially the distressing,
-bee-line “hurry-up.” I was trading
-upon my being a foreigner from a land without
-the tradition of the proper ceremony of questions.</p>
-
-<p>Yes, Hori had visited the inn of which we had
-had the superior report. It was a most superior
-place. He paused. Then he vouchsafed the information
-that it was expensive. That was indeed
-a serious objection. He thought that the bill
-there might have come to three, four, or even five
-<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">yen</i> a day. That explanation should have been
-final enough for me. It was, in fact. I would
-have accepted it. I merely happened to ask
-whether he had looked at the rooms.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes,” said he, and then he suddenly threw
-discretion away. “And what do you think?
-<em>They had rocking-chairs and American bureaus
-in the rooms.</em>”</p>
-
-<p>Poor Hori! He had been having to listen
-to us inveigh in American exaggeration against
-the infamous inroads of modernity. I cannot
-imagine that he took our chants of hatred against
-innovations actually at their word value, but he
-had had much reason to become weary and bored
-from their repetition. He implied that his reason
-for leaving the other inn was for our aesthetic
-protection, but be it said he was wise in his own<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span>
-protection. There is not much doubt that if we
-had reached the presence of those rooms there
-would have been another merry-to-do of wild
-epithets against machine-made American export
-furniture bespoiling native simplicity for him to
-listen to. The tourist animal is truly a snobbish
-beast, and natives should occasionally be given
-dispensations for outright murder.</p>
-
-<p>Once I was chatting over tall iced lemon
-squashes with a Japanese physician. In a surge
-of confidence, and also in burning curiosity, he
-told me about his trip to America. He had
-learned his English in Japan. While visiting a
-family whom he had known in his homeland, he
-met one of America’s daughters who asked him
-to call. He was somewhat startled by the invitation
-but he remembered that he was not in the
-Orient. He described the conversation to me in
-awed phrases.</p>
-
-<p>“She had a box of chocolates. ‘Do you
-know,’ she said, ‘I am mad about chocolates,
-simply crazy.’</p>
-
-<p>“I thought,” he explained, “that she was confessing
-to a craving appetite and wished my
-assistance and advice. I imagined, then, that I
-knew the reason of my invitation. I was a
-physician from a foreign land and, as I must<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span>
-soon return to my own country, her secret with
-me would be as good as buried. I explained
-that I could do nothing for her without the full
-confidence of her father and mother. She took
-this natural suggestion as if it were meant to
-be humorous. When she had stopped laughing
-she told me that the Japanese are perfect dears
-and horribly cute. Then she asked me if I didn’t
-love&mdash;what was it she asked me that I loved?
-I forget. You see we Japanese have few words
-to express the affections and use those sparingly.
-And now,” he leaned eagerly forward, “I want
-to ask you whether that young lady was charming?”</p>
-
-<p>I tried to evade by asking him what was his
-idea of charming.</p>
-
-<p>“That’s just what I don’t know. I was told
-that she was beautiful and charming. I could
-see that she was beautiful. Then I asked people
-what charming meant. They all told me something
-different.”</p>
-
-<p>“You can’t define charming,” I hazarded.
-“It’s something different from a mere attribute.
-Foreigners always say that Japanese women are
-charming.”</p>
-
-<p>“Then she wasn’t charming,” he decided judicially.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Several times I have been so rash as to try
-to explain to men of other nations how much
-an ordinary American conversation should be discounted.
-I fear that they did not accept my
-formula but held to the extremes, either continuing
-to take us literally or not believing us
-at all.</p>
-
-<p>After Hori had discovered the untoward action
-of the first inn in adding rocking-chairs and
-bureaus to its equipment, he hurried down the
-street and warned the shopkeepers whom he could
-find to stop any two wandering <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">seiyo-jins</i> and
-direct their attention to the new inn. They must
-have been impressed that the affair was one of
-moment.</p>
-
-<p>We heard O-Owre-san, the feared critic of
-varnished, golden-oak-pine bureaus, coming up
-the stairs. A striped, blue <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kimono</i> made in
-Japanese standard length somehow does not suggest
-dignity when worn by a more than six-foot
-foreigner with a beard, but O-Owre-san came so
-solemnly across the mats in his bare feet that his
-ominous repression created its own aura of dignity.
-Something had happened, but he was not
-inviting questions.</p>
-
-<p>Hori started in turn for his bath. I remained
-on my cushions. I sat and sipped my tea.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span>
-O-Owre-san sat and sipped his tea. Hori with
-his secret of the rocking-chair inn had not been
-impregnable to questions. O-Owre-san was too
-dangerously calm. I waited.</p>
-
-<p>He began by alluding to the excellence of the
-rooms we had. They were excellent, the best
-in the inn, being a part of an extra cupola story
-and giving a splendid view across the lake. Then
-he restated the known fact that the baths were
-served by natural hot springs. “The water
-comes pouring in through bamboo pipes,” he said.</p>
-
-<p>“Well,” I spoke for the first time, “and then
-what happened?”</p>
-
-<p>The honourable <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">seiyo-jin</i> drank another cup
-of tea.</p>
-
-<p>“I got into the wrong bath,” he said.</p>
-
-<p>It was news that there could be any such thing
-as a wrong bath in a Japanese inn.</p>
-
-<p>“You see,” he continued, “the baths for the
-guests of the inn are just under us, but I didn’t
-notice them when I walked by. When I got to
-the other end of the hall I found a large bath
-room. Those are the public baths, but I didn’t
-know that then. There were several big tubs
-with the water tumbling in all the time from the
-pipes. There was nobody else there nor a sign
-of anybody. I made myself at home and was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span>
-floating in one of the tubs when suddenly I heard
-a monstrous chattering out in the hall and then
-right into the room walked twenty girls. Maybe
-there were twice that many. I don’t know.
-Well, I’ve called upon my practical philosophy
-to recognize the extenuating virtues of&mdash;ah&mdash;the
-natural simplicity of the traditional exposure of
-the Japanese bath&mdash;so to speak&mdash;its insecurity&mdash;as
-it were&mdash;but&mdash;but&mdash;h’m&mdash;yes&mdash;but this was too
-much.”</p>
-
-<p>I shouted.</p>
-
-<p>He glared.</p>
-
-<p>“I was just thinking&mdash;&mdash;” I tried to say.</p>
-
-<p>“I can see you are just thinking,” he interrupted,
-“and I know what you are thinking.
-You are thinking what a great story this will be
-to tell when we get home. Believe me, if you
-ever do&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
-
-<p>“How could you ever imagine such treachery?”
-I wedged in.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, and then what was I to do?” he demanded.
-“I couldn’t jump out and run and
-I couldn’t stay in that boiling water until I was
-cooked. I relied upon some instinct of feminine
-chivalry to give me a chance, but&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
-
-<p>I tried to be sympathetically consoling. “A
-very, very trying situation.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“Huh! They were all stepping in and they
-just naturally crowded me out. Of course they
-paid absolutely no attention&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
-
-<p>Hori’s step was on the stair. He came in and
-sat down and poured a cup of tea. Then he
-stretched out on his back and gazed innocently
-at the ceiling. “O-Doctor-san,” he said, “you’ve
-settled a disputed point in Kama-Suwa and everybody’s
-much obliged.”</p>
-
-<p>“What’s that?”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, there’s been an argument for a long
-time whether <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">seiyo-jins</i> are white all over&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub-->
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2>X<br />
-<span class="titlefont">THE GUEST OF THE OTHER TOWER ROOM</span></h2>
-
-
-<p>Our tower wing of the inn at Kama-Suwa
-had required no architectural ingenuity in its
-design, but I do not remember ever having seen
-a Japanese building planned in the same way.
-The walls were open on the four sides and there
-was no <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">takemono</i> corner. The only approach
-was by a flight of stairs which belonged to it
-exclusively. We thus had an isolation most unusual.
-It mattered not the length and breadth
-of the space given us, our few possessions were
-always scattered over all the space available.</p>
-
-<p>We heard steps on the stair and our hostess
-and a maid came up to us and bowed many
-times and brought many apologies. Half our
-space was to be taken away. This was only
-following the very equitable custom that a guest
-may have all of the extension of his floor until
-some other traveller must be accommodated, and
-then, presto! there are two rooms where one was
-before.</p>
-
-<p>In a few minutes a double row of screens had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span>
-been pushed along the grooved slides in the floor
-from the head of the stairs, creating two complete
-rooms with a hallway between. The new
-guest, a woman, stood waiting to take possession.
-From the quality of her <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kimono</i>, the refinement
-of her face, and the arrangement of her hair, we
-could judge that she was of superior rank. We
-questioned with some wonder why she was alone,
-but as it was extremely unlikely that that question
-or any other about her would be answered, the
-passing query was dismissed. However, it came
-about that we were to know one poignant chapter
-in that woman’s life.</p>
-
-<p>We went exploring to find the kitchen, there
-to deliver our gooseberries and our recipe. The
-maids and cooks stood and listened. We proceeded
-with our explanation until we reached the
-point where one more suppressed giggle on the
-part of the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">ne-sans</i> might have burst forth into
-full hysterics. We released them in time by
-laughing ourselves and then left them to recover
-as best they could and to experiment with the
-stewing. Their irresponsible laughing for laughter’s
-sake had infected us with the mood. We
-went filing back to our room. The guest of the
-second tower room was standing on the balcony
-at the head of the stairs. She had changed from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span>
-her street <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kimono</i>. Her eyes were shaded by
-her hand and she was looking searchingly down
-the road. As we walked by she stepped a little
-farther out on the narrow balcony but did not
-take her eyes from her quest.</p>
-
-<p>The maid brought our dinner. It had been
-fourteen hours since breakfast and we had been
-tramping mountain paths, but without the sauce
-of appetite that dinner could have justified its
-existence. There were fish fresh from the mountain
-waters of the lake, and there were grilled
-eels, and there were strange vegetables with
-strange sauces. When the rice came we poured
-our stewed gooseberry juice over the bowl. The
-maid had left the screen pushed back when she
-carried off the tables downstairs. At that moment
-of our contentment I looked up to see the
-lonely watcher step back from the balcony. Her
-expression had changed to joyful expectancy and
-radiant relief and trust. She went to her room,
-then returned to the balcony, then ran again to
-her room. In a moment or two the round, sleepy
-maid stumbled up the stairs and whispered a
-message. The message again brought the woman
-to the head of the stairs and in a moment we
-could hear a man’s step coming.</p>
-
-<p>The greeting of affection in Japan is not a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span>
-meeting of the lips. Whatever the proper cherishing
-expression may be, it cannot be such a
-casual acknowledgment as was that man’s indifferent
-greeting in the inn at Kama-Suwa. A
-glance showed that he belonged to that new type
-which modern Japan has produced, the mobile,
-keen, aggressive, calculating, successful man of
-business and affairs. He was about thirty-five.
-Men of this new stamp are seldom met with in
-the provinces where the old order has changed
-so little but in Tokyo and the port cities their
-ideas are the predominant influence. Their aggression
-and ability have taken over the business
-and industries which the foreigner established.
-When one thinks of Old Japan one can believe
-that the thought action of this type of man by
-the very virtue of his being understood by us
-is enigma to those who still seek their inspiration
-in the ideals of the order that was.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, I am here,” he said. “You sent for
-me and I came.”</p>
-
-<p>The woman stood, making no answer.</p>
-
-<p>“What’s it all about?” he went on. “Your
-message was very mysterious. It cannot be that
-you have been so foolish&mdash;so unthinking&mdash;as absolutely
-to make a break with your husband?”</p>
-
-<p>“You are tired from your trip,” she said.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span>
-“Come! Sit down! Your dinner is waiting to
-be brought.”</p>
-
-<p>He sat down and the woman clapped her hands
-for the maid. When the stumbling, awkward
-girl came the man changed the order and told
-the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">ne-san</i> to bring <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">sake</i> first of all. He sat in
-silence until the hot rice wine came. He drank
-several of the small cups. Then the maid brought
-the lacquer tables with the dinner dishes. The
-man lifted up one or two covers and then suddenly
-jumped to his feet and declared that he
-was going to take a bath.</p>
-
-<p>The maid led the way to the large room for
-baths which was just under our rooms. The
-woman sat before her untasted dinner. Soon
-there was a sound of laughing and chattering
-from below. There was the man’s voice and the
-maid’s laugh. Finally the woman arose, walked
-out into the hall, tentatively put a foot on the
-stair, then slowly walked down. She waited outside
-the sliding paper door. The maid had committed
-no breach against custom in lingering idly
-after carrying in towels and brushes. It was
-for no personal bitterness against the stupid maid
-that tears had gathered in the woman’s eyes.
-There was nothing vulgar in the words of the
-bantering chatter she heard. It was the fact<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span>
-that the man was accepting the moment so carelessly,
-so unfeelingly for her anguish, knowing
-as he must unquestionably that every word of
-his indifferent greeting to her had carried a torturing
-thrust of pain.</p>
-
-<p>The dinner was brought up again, warmed
-over. We heard the order for another bottle
-of <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">sake</i>. We could not escape hearing through
-the paper wall. We had intended taking a walk
-but a misty rain had come down. The mosquitoes
-arose from the beaches of the lake. We
-sent for the maid and asked for the beds and
-mosquito netting. In the meantime Hori and
-I were tempted into taking another luxurious
-sinking into the hot baths. O-Owre-san had
-turned out the light before we came back. In
-the darkness we crawled carefully under the omnibus
-netting and I went to sleep immediately. I
-awoke in about an hour. The misty rain had
-been blown away and the moon was shining so
-clearly that when I turned over I could see that
-Hori’s eyes were wide open. I heard the maid,
-stumbling as always, come up the stairs with
-another bottle of <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">sake</i>. I asked Hori whether
-he had been asleep. He said that he had not,
-that after the woman had begun talking she had
-not stopped. I could hear her low, ceaseless<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span>
-tones. The man was smoking one pipe after
-another. He would knock out the ash against
-the brazier&mdash;four staccato raps&mdash;then there would
-be a pause for the three or four puffs from the
-refilled pipe, and then the staccato raps again.</p>
-
-<p>“If we are ever going to get to sleep,” said
-Hori, “we’ll have to complain to the mistress.
-Guests haven’t any right to keep other guests
-awake.”</p>
-
-<p>“Why wouldn’t it be better to make some
-such suggestion to them without calling in the
-mistress?” I asked.</p>
-
-<p>Hori shook his head. That was not the way.
-However, we delayed sending for the inn mistress.
-Hori translated some of the conversation that he
-had heard before I woke up. The woman had
-that morning left her home and her husband.
-She had sent a message to the man now in the
-room with her, but her news had evidently been
-one of his least desired wishes. Before he sank
-into the silence of tobacco and <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">sake</i> he had said
-his disapproval.</p>
-
-<p>“I thought you had more sense than to do
-anything so absurd, so almost final. Don’t you
-see that it will be almost impossible for you to
-go back now? How will you make any explanation
-that he can accept?”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“But,” she interrupted, “I came to you as
-you have so often said that you wished I could.
-That was the only way I could be even a little
-bit fair to him&mdash;to leave his house.”</p>
-
-<p>“Everything was all right as it was.”</p>
-
-<p>“No! No! I could not live that way.”</p>
-
-<p>“I can’t see why. I don’t see it. Now you’ve
-pretty nearly ruined both of us. However, we’ve
-got to think of some way for you to go back.”</p>
-
-<p>“But I can’t. I’ve lost the possibility of that.
-If I had not thought you wished me, I might not
-have come to you, but I could not stay there.”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s foolishness. Anyhow, you can go to
-your own family, and when he finds that is where
-you are, he’ll want you to come back.”</p>
-
-<p>Her mind was dully grasping that here, with
-this man, she had no refuge, but her heart would
-not believe.</p>
-
-<p>“I wished to make it complete,” she repeated.
-“I wanted to give up everything for you.”</p>
-
-<p>What folly, what sheer childish folly, he told
-her, that she had listened seriously to his idle,
-passing phrases. Why, always, she must have
-known that he was merely answering her vanity.
-Any woman should have known and accepted that.</p>
-
-<p>The ceaseless words and the staccato rapping
-of the pipe continued. We dismissed from our<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span>
-minds any intention of sending for the mistress,
-but not from prying curiosity. Our sleeping, or
-our not sleeping, was not of importance. In
-merciful pity (at least as we thought) for the
-woman, we knew that that contest must be settled
-as it was being settled. “But,” Hori whispered,
-“it would be a mighty big satisfaction to mix
-in a little physical argument.”</p>
-
-<p>“No one at this inn knows who I am,” the
-man continued. “No one has any idea that you
-have more than the slightest acquaintanceship
-with me. No one would ever be convinced that
-you ran away to meet me.”</p>
-
-<p>She ceased the argument that she had come
-to him in willing sacrifice of all else&mdash;the supreme
-gift of her love for him. She began to plead.
-He did not answer. His pipe struck against the
-brazier and now and again the maid brought
-<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">sake</i>. Once she began to weep hysterically but
-this surrender to her agony was only for a short
-moment.</p>
-
-<p>It was now almost morning. The rapping of
-the pipe stopped. The man got to his feet somewhat
-noisily. Passionately and despairingly the
-woman begged him not to leave her. Then as
-suddenly she ceased all words and said nothing
-as he made his preparations for going, nor did<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span>
-she call after him when he left her. Her unbeating
-breast imprisoned her breath through one
-last moment of hope. The spark of faith died
-but the torture of life remained, and her breath
-was released in a long, low moan. Until morning
-broke she sobbed, lying there on the floor.</p>
-
-<p>She had not pushed back the wall panel which
-the man had left open. When we went below to
-our baths she drew in her outstretched arm which
-still reached gropingly into the narrow passageway.
-She dressed before we returned. We met
-her on the stairs. She started to cover her face
-with her <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kimono</i> sleeve, and then, listlessly,
-dropped her arm.</p>
-
-<p>“Where will she go?” I asked Hori.</p>
-
-<p>Hori did not know. In the old régime, he
-explained, when a woman of the aristocracy left
-her husband she went to her family, but it had
-been only under extreme duress that a woman
-would leave her husband. There is much talk
-to-day in Japan that the social institutions are
-crumbling. One is told that the “new woman”
-movement is a result of the crumbling of the
-old order; and again one is told that the crumbling
-has come from the new woman movement. These
-latter critics say that so many women are leaving
-their homes that if any proper discipline is to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span>
-be retained and maintained, the tradition that
-a woman’s own family may receive her into their
-house must be uncompromisingly discouraged as
-a declaration of warning to others.</p>
-
-<p>Hori, himself, now that the tragedy had ceased
-to be so present, was somewhat inclined to look
-upon the history of the night in its relation to
-collective society rather than as the drama of two
-individuals. A Japanese instinctively regards a
-family as a family, and not as a collection of
-units. Loyalty is the basic idea of that philosophy
-and not the importance of the individual
-soul.</p>
-
-<p>“There is one thing quite sure,” he added,
-“she was obviously from a sheltered home and
-Japanese ladies know precious little about the
-realities of the outside world. I don’t believe
-you could understand. Why, they don’t even go
-shopping like American women. The shopkeepers
-bring everything to them. If she hasn’t
-some place to go&mdash;well, you can guess what will
-happen to her. She could never earn her own
-living any more than a baby.”</p>
-
-<p>“It may end with suicide,” I suggested.</p>
-
-<p>Hori doubted that. Suicide is an escape often
-appealed to in Japan, but he thought that if her
-temperament had been impulsively capable of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span>
-seeking such release, she would have made the
-attempt immediately.</p>
-
-<p>“But,” I objected, “isn’t your other alternative
-impossible? Isn’t there a rigid law that no
-woman of the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">samurai</i> class can enter the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">yoshiwara</i>?”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, yes,” said he, “but an agent can easily
-arrange to have her adopted into some family
-of a lower order and then she loses her rank and
-its protection.”</p>
-
-<p>O-Owre-san came up from his bath and asked
-us what we were talking about. He had slept
-through the night.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub-->
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2>XI<br />
-<span class="titlefont">ANTIQUES, TEMPLES, AND TEACHING CHARM</span></h2>
-
-
-<p>For many days we had been passing through
-villages which yielded no good hunting among
-the antique and second-hand shops. It should
-be known that the lure of the curio carries poison.
-Two friends who have lived blithely in affection,
-confident that no brutal nor subtle assault could
-ever avail against the harmony of their intimate
-understanding, perchance step through the doorway
-of a shop. Presto! A candlestick, a vase,
-a box, a tumbledown chair, whatever it may be&mdash;the
-desire for the thing magically energizes perception.
-We suddenly and clearly perceive that
-the one-time friend at our side is hung with many
-false tinkling cymbals. We never break the rules
-of the game; it is the friend who always errs.
-Thus I was always learning O-Owre-san’s abysmal
-depths, while he was encountering my superlative
-virtues of unselfishness. However, as his chief
-fiendishness was for cloisonné and my interest
-was in carved iron and bronzes and old Kyoto<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span>
-ware, we were spared from too many overdoses
-of poison.</p>
-
-<p>The little shops of Kama-Suwa really had
-curios. There were strange, imaginative odds
-and ends which had been made to please the
-whims of the eccentrics of a vanished and now
-almost un-understandable age. Of such whimsicality
-were the costumes and the heap of personal
-adornments which we discovered that had once
-been fashioned for a famous wrestler of Kama-Suwa.
-Even his sandals were there. He must
-have been a giant, truly, if his feet filled those
-<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geta</i>. Everything for the hero had been made
-in faithful exaggeration to many times the size
-of the conventional. His leather tobacco pouch
-was as big as our rucksacks. Every detail of
-the decorations of the pouch, such as the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">netsuke</i>,
-was increased to correct proportion. In the
-stockings for his feet the threads were as thick
-as whipcord. The grain of the shark skin binding
-the handle of his sword had come from some
-fish of the Brobdingnag world. When fully
-equipped, that famous man&mdash;they spoke of him
-reverently&mdash;must have given the effect that he
-had been blown into expansion by some marvellous
-pump.</p>
-
-<p>After we had shaken a dozen or so curio shops<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span>
-through our sieve we wandered off into the rain
-seeking the village temple in the hills. By festivals
-and gorgeous pageants the people around
-the shore of Suwa still celebrate their faith and
-belief that its towns were built by the gods in
-the beginning of time. The upkeep of the
-temples, I suppose, must now come from the
-worshippers or the state as there are no longer
-lavish feudal patrons with immense incomes of
-rice. Nevertheless these temples do not seem to
-suffer poverty.</p>
-
-<p>We easily found the path. A spring bursts
-from the rock of the precipitous hill back of the
-temple garden and its waters keep green the
-shrubs and grasses and the bamboo, and cherish
-the flowers. Perhaps the garden has achieved
-its perfection by minute alterations through hundreds
-of years, but its appeal bespeaks the original
-conception of its first master artist, who, by
-creating a subtle absence of formal arrangement,
-offered the supreme compliment to the beholder
-to carry on through his own creative imagination
-that approach to the ideal perfection which can
-never be reached.</p>
-
-<p>After a time the rain, which had begun falling
-in torrents, drove us back from the dream garden
-to the shelter of the overhanging temple roof.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span>
-A sliding door opened behind us and we turned
-around to see an old woman kneeling on the matting.
-She bowed low and then arose to disappear
-and to return again with tea and rice cakes and
-fruit. She placed the dishes on a low, black
-lacquer table. We untied our muddy shoes and
-moved in onto the mats. The rain fell in dull,
-droning monotony on the tiles of the roof far
-above our heads; back in the deep shadows our
-eyes could see the gleaming of the reddish gold
-edges of the lacquered idols. Every suggestion
-was hypnotic of sleep and I had been awake
-almost all the night before. I grew so sleepy
-that even the touch of the cup in my hand had
-the feeling of unreal reality. Between the raising
-of the cup to my lips and the putting of it
-down I actually plunged for an instant into sleep,
-then came to consciousness with a start. I looked
-at Hori. His eyes were blinking waveringly and
-with much uncertainty. Were there ever such
-guests of a temple? I vaguely remember that
-our hostess put a cushion under my head, and
-then came a rhythmic coolness from her fan over
-my face. I would have slept on the rack.</p>
-
-<p>We slept until we awoke to find the sun shining.
-Our hostess, with immobile, gentle face,
-was still fanning us. We were abjectly, guiltily<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span>
-remorseful. We sat up and she brought fresh
-tea. We appealed in a roundabout way for
-forgiveness by praising the teacups and the teapot.
-They were very fine. She explained that
-they had been the gift of some <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">daimyo</i>, she
-thought. Whoever he was, he had made many
-rich gifts to the temple. She pushed back panels
-and brought out bowls and vases, and told us
-romantic legends. The legends were colourful
-rather than of plot. I knew then that I could
-never remember more than their impression. The
-old woman’s own personality had drifted into
-limbo and she had absorbed in its place a reflection
-of those dark, mysterious temple rooms.
-She held out robes and porcelains before us and
-then carried them away quickly. She led us
-through the shadows, stopping to light incense
-at the feet of the Buddhas with the reverence
-that such acts were her life and not her task.</p>
-
-<p>We said good-bye and walked away, following
-along the crest of the hill. The temple roof disappeared
-behind the treetops and we were again
-in the modern world, for at that instant across
-the valley we saw a huge, nondescript, barracks-like
-building. It had been erected in the worship
-of efficiency, and was more completely mere walls
-of windows with a roof above than even an American<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span>
-factory. As we stood watching, a man paced
-out of the gate and behind him stepped a girl,
-and then another girl, and another, until it was
-a long procession. The line pursued a twisting
-way, sometimes in measured steps, sometimes in
-undulating running. At last the line formed a
-serpentine coil in an open space.</p>
-
-<p>The building was the high school for girls and
-the man leading the line was the physical instructor.
-The pupils wore the distinguishing universal
-reddish-purple skirt of the high schools
-which are bound over the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kimonos</i>. These skirts
-look heavy and uncomfortable. They must have
-been designed by some minister of education in
-those days of translation when the demand for
-modern ideas included always that they must be
-served raw. It was believed with loyalty and
-devotion that the principle at the base of the
-secret of foreign success was the axiom that
-nothing useful can be ornamental.</p>
-
-<p>The physical instructor was inhumanly military
-and dignified&mdash;and so overwhelmingly efficient in
-his instruction that it was annoying to see such
-perfection. Secretly perhaps, but always, the
-male animal instinctively protests and resists that
-women should unite into solidarity to do things.
-To his roots he begs that if they do so do, they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span>
-shall not achieve success in the essay. Man has
-always run in packs, but woman has been the
-eternal individual. Our wrath was against the
-traitor in sleeveless gymnasium shirt and tight
-foreign trousers who was teaching so systematically
-and effectively to that line of girls the secret
-of team work. By the sorrow of his eyes it could
-be seen he acknowledged to himself his infamy
-to his sex, but his loyalty to his Emperor was
-that he must conduct that exercise drill and conduct
-it professionally.</p>
-
-<p>Hori suggested that we visit the school, insisting
-that such a visit would be considered a great
-compliment. It seemed to us more like an impertinence
-of vagrants, but Hori continued firm
-that it was our duty as itinerant foreigners to
-interrupt the machinery. He took a couple of
-our visiting cards, mere innocent slips of pasteboard,
-and proceeded with his fountain pen to
-make them pretentiously formidable. He raked
-up all the detritus of our past lives. We did
-have sufficiency of conventional shame to cough
-apologetically when Hori read aloud the outrageous
-qualifications of our scholarship and degrees
-which he had added after our names. We
-learned that it is a mistake to believe that there
-can be no utilitarian value in a college degree:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span>
-letters after one’s name are seeds ready to burst
-into useful bloom under an exotic sun, and the
-flowering may be a pass into a provincial high
-school for Japanese maidens.</p>
-
-<p>A servant took those remarkable cards from
-Hori’s hand and walked off down the long corridor.
-The result was that a smiling diplomat
-came to us empowered to minister to our entertainment
-and instruction. We were honoured as
-the first courtesy by <em>not</em> being allowed to remove
-our heavy walking shoes. Every step that I
-took on those shining, spotless floors made me
-feel as if I were perpetrating a clownish indecency.
-The remorse that follows one’s own wilfulness
-can never be so keen as the agony when
-sheer fate ordains unavoidable vulgarity. Still,
-in leaving heel marks in the polished wood, there
-was the saving humour of the idea that our hosts
-thought they were honouring us by encouraging
-our foreign barbarity.</p>
-
-<p>There were unending rooms of maids in purple
-skirts. They were studying every sort of subject
-from the abstract to the practical, and from
-the aesthetic to the ethical. There were girls with
-the refinement of profile which one seeks and
-finds in the ideal drawings by the great Japanese
-artists; and there were those other faces, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span>
-round, good-natured O-Martha-sans. We looked
-over their shoulders at their paintings of flowers,
-at their embroidery, at their arithmetic sums, their
-maps, and their English composition. The Japanese
-say, “Perhaps rich nations can afford to
-economize in education and to exploit ignorance,
-but we, being very poor, must be practical. We
-cannot take such risk of ignorance.”</p>
-
-<p>A modicum of truth lies in the statement that
-the Japanese have taken up education as a new
-religion. (And some of the bumptious youthful
-devotees in Tokyo impress one that it was a
-mistaken bargain to have allowed them to exchange
-pocket shrines for text-books.) Theories
-of education have many splits everywhere in the
-world and the Japanese fervour has not escaped
-having to face the necessity of certain decisions.
-One difference of opinion, which might almost
-be called theological, rests in the question whether
-the youth should be educated to think according
-to conviction or to think according to conformity;
-to think or to be taught what to think. A Japanese
-told us that the government must risk its
-last penny to-day to guarantee the future, that
-the people are being educated to understand
-national policies in the faith that understanding
-will breed willing cooperation and willing self-sacrifice.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span>
-When I asked him which he meant,
-whether students were being taught to understand
-the policies of the state or whether they
-were being taught to believe in them, I rather
-thought that he considered my question argumentative
-and perhaps unfriendly. However,
-without his having answered the question, it is
-obvious that Japan is trusting its fate to the
-system of educating toward solidarity, the impulse
-to think alike.</p>
-
-<p>After our noisy boots had been in and out of
-many rooms we were taken to meet the head of
-the school. He was not in his administration
-room, but he entered in a few minutes. After
-the formal introduction he clapped his hands for
-tea. His appearance and his dignity were of
-ancient Japan. His thin divided moustache fell
-in long pencil-like strands from the corners of
-his lip, as do those of the sages in the ancient
-Chinese paintings. His <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kimono</i> was silk. We
-smoked and drank tea and talked abstractedly
-about education. It was a girls’ school but he
-talked of boys. We strayed from Montessori
-methods to industrial training. After he had
-used some such phrases as “a sound education,”
-O-Owre-san asked how many years of a boy’s
-life he considered should be given over to his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span>
-schooling. His eyes had been of passive light.
-They now gleamed like those of a warrior.</p>
-
-<p>“Until he has been taught loyalty to his Emperor!”</p>
-
-<p>It perhaps may be a debatable question for
-the other nations of the world, that question of
-Socrates whether virtue can be taught, but the
-headmaster of the high school in Kama-Suwa
-declared that in Japan a teacher is not a teacher
-unless he can teach loyalty. The boys must be
-taught loyalty; the daughters of the Empire must
-be taught grace. (And by grace I think he
-meant also charm.) To exemplify, we were led
-to the “flower-arranging room.” The Japanese
-arranging of flowers is a ceremony and there is
-commingled in it both the suggestion of the actual
-in life and the ideal of the perfect. The room
-which we were shown was an attempt to achieve
-the supreme inheritance of Japanese art in architecture
-and decoration&mdash;rhythm, harmony, and
-simplicity. Something of the spirit of didacticism
-must ever hang over a room so built but,
-in the room that we were shown, charm and
-beauty had surprisingly survived the inevitable
-refrigeration of being labelled “classic.”</p>
-
-<div id="Ref_226" class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
-<img src="images/i241.jpg" width="600" height="529" alt="" />
-<div class="caption"><p>THE BOYS MUST BE TAUGHT LOYALTY; THE DAUGHTERS OF THE EMPIRE
-MUST BE TAUGHT GRACE.</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub-->
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2>XII<br />
-<span class="titlefont">TSURO-MATSU AND HISU-MATSU</span></h2>
-
-
-<p>In the same town of Kama-Suwa where the
-barracks-like high school for girls spreads its
-wings there also rises the tiled roof of a <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geisha</i>
-house. Under its protection other daughters of
-the Empire are also being rigorously trained to
-duties&mdash;the life of amusing and entertaining.
-The position of the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geisha</i> cannot be illuminated
-by comparisons. There are the “sing-song girls”
-of Peking and the nautch dancers of India, and
-there were in the days of the fruition of Greek
-civilization the sisters of Aspasia; the life of the
-<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geisha</i> might be considered to be somewhat
-parallel to their lives in so far as it is a response
-to the demand of highly civilized man for the
-romance of idealized anarchy; the inhibitions of
-custom, or dogma, having precluded the expression
-of inborn romantic desire in his conventional
-life. Men whose minds have realized some measure
-of freedom through imagination and culture
-instinctively seek idealistic companionship with
-women. When realization is compressed by such<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span>
-custom as marriage by family arrangement this
-desire finds expression in some direction where
-there is at least the illusion of freedom. Human
-nature is like the human body, if pressure is
-applied in one spot, unless there is some equitable,
-compensating bulge elsewhere, the compression is
-likely to be vitally destructive. If the highest
-ideality has as its cornerstone responsibility, then
-when marriage is an institution by arrangement
-and the sense of responsibility is not created
-through the freedom of choice, feminine companionship
-and charm will inevitably be sought
-in the romance of some more voluntary arrangement.
-Who will absolutely deny that when the
-endeavour to save poetical yearning from defeat
-is such companionship as the almost classical ceremony
-of watching the white fingers of a <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geisha</i>
-pour tea into a shell of porcelain, a sort of mutual
-sense of responsibility to save the fineness of life
-may enter into the relationship as a redeeming
-grace against the professionalism of the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geisha’s</i>
-life?</p>
-
-<p>We turned from the street into the gate of
-the principal tea-house. There was a clapping
-of hands by the first servant who heard our steps
-on the gravel path and in a moment the mistress
-and all the men-servants and maid-servants were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span>
-at the door to greet us. It was at an hour in
-the afternoon when the tea-house did not expect
-guests. We took off our shoes and were led to
-the floor above. There were four or five rooms
-but they soon became one, the maids removing
-the sliding screen panels, and we were given the
-luxury of unpartitioned possession. One side,
-entirely without wall, overhung the garden.</p>
-
-<p>The maids brought cold water and tea and
-sherbets and iced beer and fruits and cakes, and
-there were dishes on the table of which we did
-not even lift the covers. Then they knelt and
-awaited our orders whether they should send for
-<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geishas</i>. They explained that at that hour there
-might be the rude annoyance to our honourable
-patience of having to endure an unavoidable
-delay. It would not be likely that the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geishas</i>
-could come immediately. We told them that our
-honourable patience would suffer the delay.</p>
-
-<p>When the French builders and decorators tried
-to attain the ultimate for the housing of royalty
-in the age of the Grand Monarch, their success
-approached close to the realization of what the
-imagination of the period asked. Versailles was
-built with the idea of reaching theoretical perfection
-through the completion of detail. The
-imagination of the beholder was supposed to find<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span>
-complete satisfaction in what he saw and not to
-feel the urge of the possibility of still higher
-flights. If the beholder was not content with
-this “perfection,” he was indeed in a plight, for
-there was no next step except to begin all over
-again. The rhythm of the art of the Japanese
-tea-house is not dependent upon regularity nor
-balance. Its perfection can never be completed.
-The last word cannot be spoken. It is like life.</p>
-
-<p>We walked over the soft mats examining the
-work of the craftsman builder who had made his
-material yield its beauty through the grain and
-line of each plank, board, beam, pillar, and panel.
-I moved a cushion to the balcony and sat down
-to study the room in deeper perspective. I never
-followed out this sedate contemplation, for instead
-I happened to look over the balcony. Across
-the court of the garden I saw into an open room
-of a wing. Three little girls, from about five
-to seven years of age, were being trained in the
-arts of the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geisha</i>. At that moment their instruction
-was in the dance.</p>
-
-<p>The work was being gone through seriously but
-the teachers were sympathetic and encouraging.
-A dancing master assumed the general superintendence:
-several older girls, full-fledged <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geishas</i>,
-sat offering suggestions from their experience.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span>
-They were in simple, everyday dress and not in
-<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geisha</i> costume. The novitiates sometimes begin
-their training even younger than five years.
-Quite often such children are orphans who come
-into the profession by legal adoption; others are
-the children of parents who have apprenticed their
-daughters under an arrangement which virtually
-amounts to a sale. Naturally the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geisha</i> master
-does not select children who do not possess the
-promise of grace, beauty, and charm. The long
-training is expensive and it is intended that there
-shall be a return on the investment. The little
-girls, whom we could see, were practising over
-and over again the steps of some classical dance
-to the music of a <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">samisen</i>. From the expression
-of their faces to the position of their fingers in
-carrying their fans, every possibility of technic
-which should enter into the dance was receiving
-the minutest attention.</p>
-
-<p>For many years, Hori whispered, the training
-of those little girls must go on to one end&mdash;to
-interest, to entertain, and to amuse men. They
-will be taught to wear the gorgeous silks and
-embroideries of the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geisha</i>; they will be taught
-that every movement of the hand and arm in
-pouring tea or passing the cup should be an art;
-they will be taught when they should smile, when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span>
-they should laugh, and when they should sympathize;
-they will be taught how to converse, how
-to repeat the classical tales and the tales of folklore
-and how deftly to introduce merry stories
-of the day. After all this training the graduation
-comes when they enter actively into the life
-of the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geisha</i>. In this budding a girl may amuse
-partly by the mere gossamer fragility of her
-youth, but later maturity brings the capital of
-acquired experience, not only in the art of entertaining
-but through having learned that the charm
-of woman is largely the solace that she can bring
-through sympathy and understanding.</p>
-
-<p>What is the end? It may be better or worse,
-tragic or domestic, marriage, shame, servitude,
-modest anonymity, or the retirement to the teaching
-of her art to another generation. Her life
-is one obviously wherein the path has many by-ways
-to temptation. There is much that must
-be insincere and tinsel. If many a little heart,
-sweet, modest, and unhardened, is crushed, nevertheless
-if there be forgiving gods among those
-to whom she prays, surely those gods must know
-that these Mary Magdalenes are (so a poet of
-the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">yoshiwara</i> wrote) in the greater truth as the
-flowers of the lotus. Though their feet have
-touched the black mud of the stagnant pond,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span>
-“the heart of the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geisha</i> is the flower of the
-lotus.”</p>
-
-<p>We heard a footstep at the door and turned
-to see a <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geisha</i> standing there. She was tall and
-slender. The delicate paleness of her face was
-even whiter through fear. She saw us, barbarians,
-sitting in the refinement of the tea-house
-room. The carmine spots on her lips shone
-brightly, giving to her expression the unreality
-of the frightened look a doll might have if suddenly
-brought to life. She was carrying a <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">samisen</i>.
-Her fingers tightly clutched the wrappings.
-She came across the room toward us and as her
-knees bent against the skirt of her <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kimono</i> I could
-see that they were trembling. She sat down and
-tried to smile. The duty of a <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geisha</i> is to smile.
-She smiled with the same last effort of loyalty
-which carries the soldier into a hopeless
-charge.</p>
-
-<p>I felt an abysmal brute to be there. Absurd
-perhaps, but it was as if the command of some
-strange, scornful, hitherto unheeded, almost unknown
-spirit of justice was calling me to name
-some defence why man in his arrogance has
-assumed the right to pluck the beauty of the
-flowers and has assumed the justification that the
-reason for the perfume and the beauty is that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span>
-they were created for him. It was a strange beginning
-for the gaiety of a <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geisha</i> luncheon.</p>
-
-<p>Tsuro-matsu drew back the fold of her sleeve
-to her elbow and raised the teapot. The spout
-trembled against the rim of the cup which she
-was filling. She handed the cup to Hori and
-until that moment I do not believe that she had
-noticed that he was a Japanese.</p>
-
-<p>“The child is frightened to death,” said
-O-Owre-san. “Say something, Hori, quick! If
-she wants to go home&mdash;&mdash;”</p>
-
-<p>Tsuro-matsu had read the meaning of the words
-from their tone before Hori tried to translate.
-She smiled and this time her lips parted from
-her pretty teeth spontaneously. Then she said
-that Hisu-matsu, a second <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geisha</i>, would soon
-come. When the messenger had arrived for them
-they had first to send for their hair dresser. The
-messenger had told them that the guests at the
-tea-house were foreigners. Thus her frightened
-anticipation had had its beginning before she had
-entered the room. We asked what had been her
-fears.</p>
-
-<p>Tsuro-matsu did not wish to say. She had
-once before seen foreigners but only from her
-balcony. We still persisted in our question.
-When she realized that the truth would please<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span>
-us more than compliments, even if the telling
-somewhat offended against the etiquette of hospitality,
-she ventured slowly to repeat some of
-the tales which had been passed along by imaginative
-tongues until they had eventually reached
-the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geisha</i> house of Kama-Suwa. We sat waiting
-to hear some legend truly scandalous, but
-there was nothing of such atrocity. She had not
-heard of Buddhist children being stolen for sacrifice
-on Christian altars. Our barbarities of the
-Western world that worried the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geisha</i> sensibility
-were departures not from mercy but from manners.
-We were wild and rough and of much
-noise, always in a hurry, and knowing nothing
-of the refinements, such as tea drinking, and we
-were always to be discovered dropping rice grains
-from our chopsticks onto the floor. And, as a
-conclusion, the foreigner, such was her information,
-had no appreciation for gentle conversation,
-nor for any of the arts of social intercourse of
-which the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geisha</i>, in her vocation, is the guardian
-priestess.</p>
-
-<p>Of all the intricacies of thought in modern
-Japan, the most interesting is the side-by-side
-existence (without its possession seemingly arousing
-any astonishment in the mind of the possessors)
-of two completely different conceptions<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span>
-of the foreigner. A Japanese may sometimes
-sincerely render honour to a foreigner for superior
-attainments and yet sustain the old feudal idea
-that the foreigner must be a barbarian even in
-those very attainments. It is quite possible when
-the frightened Tsuro-matsu left the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geisha</i> house
-in her ’ricksha that she not only felt that she was
-going to an ordeal where she would suffer from
-the crudities of the <em>inferior</em> foreigner, but that
-she was being singled out for the distinct honour
-of entertaining the <em>superior</em> foreigner. In one
-way, for the common people, this paradox may
-be partially explained by the fact that their
-leaders order them to honour the foreigner for
-his practical achievements, and in their unhesitating
-loyalty they do as they are told. It is
-much easier to accept such authority than to
-puzzle out how the knowledge and experience of
-their worshipped ancestors could have been of
-such superior brand and yet been of such ignorance.</p>
-
-<p>Tsuro-matsu was telling us something of her
-fears when Hisu-matsu entered. Upon what
-scene she had expected to come, I have no imagining,
-but her surprise at the state of intimate peace
-which did reign proved that she had been thinking
-of a different probability. Her surprise dissipated<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span>
-her timidity, and she began to laugh at
-Tsuro-matsu’s earnestness. Hisu-matsu was somewhat
-older. Her <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geisha</i> dress was perhaps richer;
-quite likely her skill in conversation and in playing
-the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">samisen</i> was superior&mdash;but she was not
-so exquisitely fragile in her beauty.</p>
-
-<p>Japan is the court of Haroun al-Raschid in
-the love of hearing stories. Always we were
-being asked for stories, stories of romance, love,
-and adventure, “such as you tell at home when
-sitting on the mats drinking tea.” Perhaps the
-elevation to chairs has subtly sapped away from
-us the art of tale spinning beyond the briefest
-of anecdotes and jokes. There was no more of
-a response in us when Tsuro-matsu asked us to
-tell a story than there had been when Hori had
-asked us to extemporize poetry in the valley of
-the Kiso. We scored a failure as always but a
-moment later chance gave us a second opportunity
-for the vindication of Occidental accomplishments.</p>
-
-<p>O-Owre-san had picked up a <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">samisen</i> and was
-searching for some harmonies in the long strings.
-In the mystery of the night, coming out of the
-darkness, the music of Japan has a certain functioning
-charm harmonizing with the rhythm of
-the wings of insects beating their way through
-the shadows; but to hear the love song of a strident<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span>
-cicada coming from the white throat and
-red lips of a <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geisha</i>&mdash;at least that is not our
-melody of passion. It was Hisu-matsu this time
-who made the request. She asked O-Owre-san
-to sing a song, “as you sing songs in America.”
-This was the chance to redeem our failure. The
-hills of Norway gave O-Owre-san a birth-gift of
-melody. His whistling is like a bird call, clear
-and true. Hori and I insisted that he must
-whistle. It was the air of a folksong that he
-remembered. It had the Viking cry of the Norse
-wind and the lust of storm and battle. The two
-girls tried to listen.</p>
-
-<p>“Change to Pagliacci,” I whispered. The
-music of the North had failed. I was in duress
-to save our faces.</p>
-
-<p>Again they tried to listen. Then they looked
-at each other in astonishment and in each pair
-of eyes there was annoyance. They began talking
-to each other in disregard of Pagliacci and
-everything Italian. It was an obvious disregard.
-At first they had thought that he might be practising,
-but when he continued the distressing
-sounds, then they were sure that we were making
-fun of their request. They were trying to save
-their own faces. They had begun talking to
-prove that they could not so easily be taken in.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span>
-Hori had the brilliancy to retreat. He hastened
-to ask them to sing and play again. By sitting
-raptly while the strings of the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">samisen</i> were rasped
-by the sharp ivory pick and their voices followed
-in accompaniment, we were able in a measure to
-atone for the barbarity of our own music by showing
-that we could listen appreciatively to good
-music when opportunity granted.</p>
-
-<p>The hour came to pay our reckoning and
-to depart. We said good-bye over the teacups,
-but when we were sitting at the door putting on
-our shoes we heard the sound of the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geishas’</i>
-white <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">tabi</i> on the stairs. Their two ’rickshas
-wheeled up to the entrance for them, but they
-hesitated. They stood whispering to each other
-for a moment and then turned to us and suggested
-that they would walk as far as our inn
-gate with us if we wished. O-Owre-san and I
-were nonplussed. Hori hurriedly told us that
-their suggestion was a marked compliment, that
-we should accept it with thanks, and that he
-would explain later. Sometimes&mdash;and the occasions
-are supposed to be so sufficiently rare as
-to be of complimentary value&mdash;a popular <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geisha</i>
-will drag the hem of her embroidered <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kimono</i>
-along the street in this custom of courtesy by
-which she shows her appreciation for her entertainment.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span>
-It should be remembered that a <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geisha</i>
-is traditionally a guest. In Tokyo, said Hori,
-a young blood who has spent his last spendthrift
-<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">sen</i> on a gorgeous dinner will await such approval
-as the hallmark upon his artistry as host. If it
-is denied he reads in the answer not a mere feminine
-caprice but an impartial, critical disapproval.
-He seeks for the reason by trying to remember
-any errors in his own hostly proficiency. It is
-to be imagined, however, that while the bestowal
-of this approval may theoretically only be employed
-for the maintenance of the rigid standard
-of etiquette and artistry, in practice it is not always
-confined to such rarefied judgment.</p>
-
-<p>The five of us started on the long walk to
-the inn gate. I am afraid that the gentle <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geishas</i>
-had not given thought to the composition of the
-picture. Tsuro-matsu was rather tall for a Japanese,
-but Hisu-matsu was not, and the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">seiyo-jins</i>
-were somewhat over six feet each. In the daylight,
-also, the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geisha</i> costume noticeably brightens
-a street. Walking abreast we made a cordon
-stretching across the road to the utter bewilderment
-of Kama-Suwa.</p>
-
-<p>We had found before this that the crowds
-which gather in provincial towns are seldom intentionally
-annoying, although sometimes they do<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span>
-jam around a shop door, shutting off the light
-and air. The steadfast staring may be unpleasant,
-but the foreigner soon learns to think little
-about naïve curiosity. Our march through Kama-Suwa
-certainly did attract attention, but the
-crowds separated and allowed us to pass without
-following at our heels, and I believed Hori when
-he said that this heroic restraint of curiosity arose
-from their innate feeling that its manifestation
-would be discourteous and inhospitable. This
-sense of consideration was not a sufficiently quick
-reaction, however, to prevent inordinate amazement
-when anyone met us suddenly. A boy on
-a bicycle, coming round a corner, forgot his own
-personal existence entirely and his unguided wheel
-carried him directly into a shop door, somewhat
-to the disturbance of the ménage and himself.
-Our progress continued slowly as the toed-in
-sandals under the long <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kimono</i> skirts of the
-<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geishas</i> did not take steps measuring with our
-usual stride. We found that dictionary conversation
-could not be pursued expeditiously in the
-street, and after a few attempts to make known
-words do the work of unknown with discouraging
-results, the advance proceeded silently and rather
-solemnly, although I received flashes from those
-two demure maids that they had a sense of humour.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span>
-The corners of their mouths did twitch
-in mischievous enjoyment of the situation.</p>
-
-<p>When we reached the shores of the lake we
-sat down on the rocks and watched the boats.
-The rising breeze roughened the surface into a
-long path of flame against the red sun. Hisu-matsu
-had been dissatisfied all afternoon with
-the hurried effort of her hairdresser. She drew
-out the large combs and the heavy strands of hair
-fell over her shoulders. She told us a queer,
-whimsical story about the birds that were flying
-over the reeds. They said good-bye to us and
-walked away and we turned in at our inn lane.</p>
-
-<p>Our dinner was very late. Finally the stumbling
-maid came, rubbing her eyes and yawning.
-She was, as always we had seen her, on the immediate
-point of going to sleep. She had been
-carrying <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">sake</i>, all the night before, but she had
-been almost as sleepy on the previous day. Now,
-in serving dinner, she went definitely to sleep
-every time there was a lull in her duties. She
-had one hiatus of lukewarm wakefulness in which
-she mumbled some appeal to Hori, but he declared
-to us that the words had no sense. We began
-fearing for the few faculties she appeared to have.</p>
-
-<p>Hori listened more carefully. “I believe she
-is saying something,” he decided.</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Little by little we learned that she had a favour
-to ask the foreign doctor. Just how she had discovered
-that O-Owre-san had medical wisdom was
-a mystery. She said that all Japan knows that
-foreign doctors can do anything. She begged
-for a drug to keep her awake, something that
-she could swallow so that she would never feel
-sleepy again, or better than that, some drug so
-potent, if there were any such, that she would
-never even have to sleep again.</p>
-
-<p>“H’m,” said the foreign doctor. “Tell her
-there isn’t any such drug. Tell her to get a good
-night’s sleep. She will feel better about it in
-the morning.”</p>
-
-<p>Her disappointment was pitiful.</p>
-
-<p>“But I shall never have a night’s sleep,” she
-said. “If I ask for time to sleep I shall be
-told that there are many maids who will be glad
-to take my place.” She knew, she went on, that
-she was very stupid, but she maintained that she
-was not so stupid when she was not so sleepy.</p>
-
-<p>It is outside our comprehension and experience
-how the Chinese and Japanese can labour on and
-on, more nearly attaining a wakeful condition
-for the full round of the day than the individuals
-of other races would consent to endure even if
-they could continue life under the strain. In all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span>
-inns the maids work long hours, nor do the mistresses
-spare themselves. The mistress of the inn
-at Kama-Suwa seemingly lacked the usual kindly
-sympathy for her maids and was unusually demanding.
-O-Hanna-san (the irony of calling
-her a <em>flower</em>!) could not dare the risk of attempting
-to escape from her slavery. It was for the
-sake of her fatherless child that she dared not,
-she told us. She, the clumsy, stumbling, stupid,
-sleepy maid, had had her tragedy as had had the
-pale, forsaken daughter of the nobility whom she
-had waited upon the night before.</p>
-
-<p>After her disappointment that she could obtain
-from us no sleep-dispelling drug she toppled
-again into unconsciousness. We could at least
-give her temporary help. We sent for the mistress
-and asked her for a full night’s sleep for
-the girl. For the maid’s sake it was necessary
-to put our demand on the ground that we must
-have better service in the morning. This saved
-the face of the mistress. After the mistress had
-consented and had gone, poor O-Hanna-san’s
-affectionate thanks were embarrassing.</p>
-
-<p>On a point reaching into the lake and under
-our balcony stood a small, one-storied shrine.
-It was sheltered by a tiled roof pitched on four
-columns. We saw from our room two figures<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span>
-in white walking along the shore. They stopped
-at the shrine and knelt for some time. When
-they arose the bright moon suddenly revealed
-that the two figures were Tsuro-matsu and Hisu-matsu.
-Hori went down to speak to them and
-in a moment their three heads appeared up the
-stairs. The <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geishas</i> had changed the silks and
-brocades of their costume for simple white <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kimonos</i>
-and their hair was not now arranged after
-the elaborate style of the professional hairdresser.
-Instead of this simplicity detracting it quite
-startlingly bespoke the charm of their delicate
-beauty.</p>
-
-<p>They were embarrassed and they were blushing.
-It was one thing to have it their duty to
-be whirled in ’rickshas to a tea-house to meet
-strange patrons, but to pay an informal visit at
-our rooms, especially at that hour, was quite another
-affair, and most unconventional. They
-were shocked at their own impulsiveness in having
-run up the stairs and they were very much afraid
-that someone in the inn would discover their
-presence. The little shrine, it appeared, was in
-especial favour with the members of the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geisha</i>
-house where they lived, and they often came,
-particularly if the moon were shining in the early
-evening, to worship before their duties called.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span>
-We opened our rucksacks and found some odds
-and ends which we made do for presents. They
-chatted for a moment and then ran off into the
-night.</p>
-
-<p>Later Hori told me that as they were going
-they had asked us to be their guests at the theatre&mdash;there
-was a performance of one of the classic
-dramas by a travelling troupe from Tokyo&mdash;and
-afterwards to have supper at the tea-house.</p>
-
-<p>Hori’s explanation of his refusal was rather
-intricate and elaborate, but stripped of <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">bushido</i> I
-think the inner simplicity was that he had suffered
-enough for one day from the conspicuous exhibition
-of our long legs and he had no desire for
-being responsible for taking them into a crowded
-Japanese theatre.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub-->
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2>XIII<br />
-<span class="titlefont">A LOG OF INCIDENTS</span></h2>
-
-
-<p>It was dark and threatening the next morning
-but we decided to be on our way. We bought
-a couple of paper umbrellas. We soon found
-that when we needed them at all that day we
-needed a roof much more. Hori was off on his
-bicycle and we arranged to overtake him at the
-village of Fujimi. We were hardly out of Kama-Suwa
-before we had to make our first dash for
-shelter to escape drowning in the open road. The
-thatched house which we besieged for shelter
-would probably have been most picturesque on a
-sunny day but it was exceedingly primitive for
-a storm. Our hostess was a very old woman,
-diminutive and smiling. The rain pounded
-against her hut and discovered every possible
-chance to force its way in. She tried to start
-a fire from damp sticks and charcoal and succeeded
-after a long effort. The fire was to heat
-the water for our tea. It was useless to protest.
-No guests might leave her house unhonoured by
-a cup of tea.</p>
-
-<div id="Ref_248" class="figcenter" style="width: 528px;">
-<img src="images/i265.jpg" width="528" height="650" alt="" />
-<div class="caption"><p class="center">WE BOUGHT PAPER UMBRELLAS</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Japan never seems so remote from the West
-as when seen through the rain. Fishermen, in
-straw raincoats, were wading in the creeks with
-hand nets. The children in the villages were
-wading in the gutters.</p>
-
-<p>The towns seemed self-sufficient and prosperous.
-They had captured the mountain streams
-and had led them away from their channels to
-run in deep, wide canals through the streets.
-Innumerable waterwheels drew upon this energy
-for the miniature factories. We were walking
-through one of these towns&mdash;the sun was shining
-brightly at the moment&mdash;when there was a
-sprinkling of giant drops. We knew that that
-meant another cloudburst and we turned in at
-the first door. It was a barber’s shop. We
-asked permission for standing room, but the men
-who had been sitting around a large brazier lifted
-it away and insisted upon giving us their places
-on the matting.</p>
-
-<p>The chairs, the mirrors, the shampoo bowls, the
-razors, and all the rest of the elaborate paraphernalia
-looked so immaculate and usable that I
-expected O-Owre-san to decide that it would be
-discourteous for him to waste such an opportunity
-of having his beard trimmed. He surprised
-me by suggesting that we toss up to see<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span>
-which one should make the experiment of the
-complete surrender to all the inventions. Perhaps
-he was tactfully suggesting that my unkemptness
-showed the greater necessity, but the
-turn of the coin made him the adventurer.</p>
-
-<p>The rain was now falling so that it swept the
-streets in a flood. The thunder was shaking the
-hills. A thunderstorm, for me, is the most soporific
-inducer in the world and my eyes began
-to waver and soon I was many times asleep.
-When I awoke, under O-Owre-san’s urge, the
-sun was out again. My joints were stiff, I was
-sleepy, and I was old, but the world seemed
-very new after its scrubbing, and nothing less
-than jauntiness could express the state of transformation,
-brought about by clippers, shears, hot
-towels, and everything that went with the treatment,
-in the appearance of my companion. The
-barber and his two assistants, with their huge
-palm fans, were bowing and smiling with an air
-of complete satisfaction. I was out of sympathy
-both with refurnished nature and the revamped
-man. I remarked irritably that his pursuit of
-beauty would be the ruination of our joint purse.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes,” he said, “and the fees equalled the
-bill. I had to pay some rent for your taking up
-the entire floor for your siesta.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>The bill had been five <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">sen</i> and the fees had
-been five <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">sen</i>, so that altogether we had squandered
-five cents of our money.</p>
-
-<p>Fujimi is little more than a hamlet. It is
-tucked away in a fold of the hills off the main
-paths of the trail. Its days are probably as ancient
-as the worship of Fuji. The view of the
-sacred mountain from Fujimi is a paradox of the
-beautiful. The sudden sight of the blue outline
-of the mountain against the sky comes crushingly
-into one’s consciousness as an extraordinary
-awakening and quickening, and yet the emotion
-is deep, reverent, and silent. Maybe it was our
-undue imagination but the peasants of the valley
-seemed marked by quietude. While Fuji-yama
-was cloud hidden that first day, on the long walk
-of the next we found the lonely labourers of the
-isolated farm terraces often staying their work
-for a moment, their consciousness lost in passionate
-gaze toward the sacred slope.</p>
-
-<p>It was only by much questioning of the peasants
-whom we met on the road that we were able
-to find the hamlet. Once when we were unable
-to understand the answer, with a quick smile to
-disarm our protests, the questioned one turned
-back his steps until he could point out the path.
-We had been swinging along at our best pace in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span>
-the hours between torrents and it was not long
-after mid-day when we found Hori’s bicycle outside
-an inn. O-Owre-san declared that our sixteen
-or so miles had not aroused him from the
-sluggishness brought on by a full day’s rest at
-Kama-Suwa and he was for going on, but as
-the rain was now falling again, this time in a
-settled drizzle, he had to be a martyr to enduring
-a roof over his head or else to seek his own
-drenching.</p>
-
-<p>The inn was the most meagre in ordinary
-equipment of any that we had found. It was
-not much more than a rest-house, although it had
-evidently at one time been of more pretence.
-The fear expressed by our host that his house
-was unworthy had the ardour of conviction. In
-order to know better what to borrow from his
-neighbours for the entertainment of the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">seiyo-jins</i>
-he suggested a scale of three prices. We chose
-the middle quotation of one <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">yen</i>, twenty <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">sen</i> (sixty
-cents). The fire was then started in the kitchen.</p>
-
-<p>Japanese architecture is said to be in direct
-line of descent from the nomadic tent of Central
-Asia. Just as the roof and the four corner posts
-are the essentials of the tent, in the building of a
-Japanese house, the corner posts are first set up
-and the roof is built next. Our inn might have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span>
-served this theory of descent as an admirable
-example. The roof was the chief reason for its
-existence. There were no wings. The stairway
-was on the outside, coming up through the balconies
-which ran completely around the two upper
-floors. In winter days when wooden shutters
-enclose and darken the rooms the bare simplicity
-may grow dreary. The wind is then the father
-of shivering draughts which creep over the floor,
-but for the days of summer, when the green valley
-of Fujimi lies in the shelter of the great
-granite ranges, the memory of the stifling cave-like
-rooms of our Western architecture seemed
-barbarous and of dull imagination in comparison.
-The philosophy of Japan’s housebuilding appears
-to be that it is better fully to live with nature
-in nature’s season of wakefulness than to invent
-a compromise shelter equally reserved against
-nature through the revolution of the year.</p>
-
-<p>O-Owre-san had gone exploring to find the
-bath. A few minutes later our host excitedly came
-up the stairs to warn us that the bearded foreigner
-was tempting destruction. Rumour that foreigners
-have experimented with cold baths and have
-discovered reactions within themselves to endure
-such rigour had not reached Fujimi. When the
-impatient foreigner had learned that the hot<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span>
-bath was not ready, he filled the tub with the
-icy water that came spouting through a bamboo
-pipe. In the midst of our efforts to calm our
-host, O-Owre-san, himself, appeared, red and
-beaming. Nevertheless, neither his rosiness nor
-his exhilaration could allure Hori and me into
-following his recommendation to go and do likewise.
-We decided, instead, to take the host’s
-advice. He sent us to the public baths. Armed
-with towels, and in borrowed <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kimonos</i> and borrowed
-wooden <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geta</i>, we set forth. My <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kimono</i>
-came to my knees, no lower, and it was restricted
-in other dimensions. For the women and children
-sitting in the doorways our progress through
-the street may have brought some interest into a
-rainy and perhaps otherwise dull afternoon.</p>
-
-<p>The baths, housed in a low, small, ramshackle
-building, were famous for leagues about. The
-keeper of the baths was a “herbist.” He went
-out into the mountains&mdash;on stealthy and secret
-excursions which the cleverest tracker had never
-followed&mdash;and brought back sweet-scented hay
-which his wife sewed into bags and threw into
-the hot water. Everything about the discovery,
-she said, was their own secret. Whatever was the
-secret of the herbs, the natural, delicate perfume
-was pleasing. The two tubs for the men were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span>
-fairly large tanks. They had been freshly filled
-with heated spring water just before we entered.
-It was not yet the men’s hour, but a half-dozen
-women were in their half of the building, either
-busily pouring water over themselves on the scrubbing
-platform or sitting placidly up to their
-chins in the hot water. The mistress was most
-energetic. She had a pair of large scrubbing
-brushes which she was applying to their backs.
-Back scrubbing in Japan is an ancient institution
-and the practice may have some real physiological
-merit. At least the vigorous scrubbing up
-and down the vertebrae produces a soothing and
-restful reaction.</p>
-
-<p>A phrase that I had come across in my dictionary
-had stuck in my memory. Translated, it was:
-“Will you kindly honour me by scrubbing my
-back?” I asked Hori whether my remembrance
-and pronunciation of the Japanese words were
-correct.</p>
-
-<p>“Pretty good,” said he, and then I saw a slumbering
-twinkle in his black eyes. “But why do
-you practise on me? Why don’t you say it to
-the mistress to see whether she will understand?”</p>
-
-<p>“Stop!” I spluttered. But it was too late.
-He had called out to the busy mistress to ask
-the foreigner to ask to have his back scrubbed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span>
-Until that moment we had been inconspicuous
-in our dark end of the room, but now everybody
-looked up and edged along for the entertainment
-of hearing a foreigner speak Japanese. I was
-responding, but my phrases were directed at Hori
-and had nothing to do with back scrubbing.</p>
-
-<p>There are exigencies of fate which come down
-upon one like an avalanche. The revenue to the
-busy mistress from the use of her scrubbing brush
-was three <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">sen</i> from each person, which was a full
-<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">sen</i> more than for the bath itself, and thus business
-was business and a serious matter with her.
-She descended upon me with her three-legged
-stool and scrubbing brushes and proceeded to
-earn the extra <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">sen</i>. I was completely cowed by
-her determination.</p>
-
-<p>We sat parboiling ourselves in the tub for
-some time. All the customers had now either
-been scrubbed or had not asked to be scrubbed,
-and the mistress could sit down for a moment to
-rest and to talk. Particularly did she talk. She
-talked on and on, exploiting the merits of the
-local advantages of Fujimi. Ah, where could one
-go to find Fujimi’s equal? Such views! And
-we must promise to visit the tea-house. It was
-unfair to refuse that to Fujimi. The maids, it
-was true, were not <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geishas</i>, but they were every<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span>
-whit as talented as any <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geisha</i> of Tokyo, and sang
-and played and danced far better than provincial
-<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">geishas</i>.</p>
-
-<p>Back in our inn the extra twenty <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">sen</i> apiece
-above the minimum rate had wrought marvels
-in the kitchen. We were hungry. We were
-always hungry. And we had learned always to
-expect the inn dinners to satisfy our demands.
-That night we truly had marvellous dishes. The
-bamboo shoots were as tender as bamboo shoots
-can be. Whether supreme genius or chance was
-responsible for the sauce for the chicken, the result
-was perfection. Dinner was very early.
-After the meal I found a longer <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kimono</i> and,
-as the rain had stopped for an interval, Hori
-and I walked to a hill to see the sunset. On our
-way back we passed the tea-house which had
-been so enthusiastically recommended by the mistress
-of the baths. We went in. Green peaches
-were brought to us to nibble at, and tea and warm
-beer to sip.</p>
-
-<p>The house was indeed gorgeous with its gold
-screens and polished wood. The decorations almost
-kept within traditional taste, and simplicity
-had not been too grievously erred against; but
-the atmosphere of proportion and rhythm had
-been missed by that narrow margin which perversely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span>
-is more irritating inversely to the width
-of the escape. We may possibly have had the
-added impulse to this critical judgment by the
-insidious predilection of the mosquitoes for us
-rather than for the two maids who were paring
-the peaches. One of them explained that the
-mosquitoes of Fujimi are famous for preferring
-outsiders.</p>
-
-<p>Two of the rooms were crowded with supper
-parties, of wine, women, and song, but compared
-to the revelries of bucolic bloods in other lands,
-something might be said in praise of such restraint
-as prevailed in the Fujimi tea-house. It
-may be no honour nor compliment to the spirit
-of refinement to wish vice as well as virtue clothed
-in some modicum of grace and retirement, but
-it does make the world easier to live in.</p>
-
-<p>The soft rain stopped dripping from the eaves
-some time in the night and the sky was clear
-when the sun leaped above the mountain ridge,
-as if impatient to find the radiance of the glorious,
-virginal day. The green of the valley was a
-glowing emerald and the mountains were sharp
-and grey with no shielding haze.</p>
-
-<p>Our host sent his daughter to lead us through
-a short cut in the hills to the main road. Hori,
-with his bicycle, had to take the conventional path.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span>
-The little <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">musume</i> trotted along at our side with
-a full sense of responsibility, her feet twinkling
-down the rocky pitches, her <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kimono</i> sleeves fluttering
-out like wings. Suddenly she pointed the
-way and then, before we could thank her, ran
-back. Skipping and dancing she ran, reaching
-out her hands to the leaves on the bushes or
-waving them to the flying insects.</p>
-
-<p>The rain clouds had hidden Fuji-san the day
-before. On this morning as we came through the
-sharp cut in the rocks which led to the main road,
-outlined against the sky we saw the long purple
-slope. We climbed to a terrace on the side of
-a granite block and sat with our feet dangling
-and our chins in our hands. There was one white
-cloud, no bigger than a man’s hand. It floated
-slowly toward the crater and then hesitated above
-the snow ribs on the sides. Then came another
-cloud across the sky, then another and another,
-until the summit was hidden by the glowing veils.
-We slid down from our rock and walked on toward
-the mountain.</p>
-
-<p>From the day that we left the plains and turned
-into the hills our tramping had been long climbs
-but now the road again dropped away toward the
-lowlands. We had easily forgotten the hours of
-dancing heat waves, but, with a start, I began<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span>
-to remember Nagoya, of the rice plains, of those
-stifling nights and brazen days. The memory
-had also grown dim of my once rhapsodical joy
-in finding shaved ice to slake my dusty thirst.
-If I had never known anything but the quiet,
-velvet smoothness of water from wells and springs
-and the knowledge of the grind of ice particles
-against my tongue had been denied me, then I
-might well have mistaken affection for passion.
-There was no spring nor stream to be found.
-The lower path of the widening valley was growing
-into a road but we were following a trail
-higher up on the ridge. Down under the leaves
-of the trees we thought we saw a thatched roof.
-If there was a house there, there would be water.
-We found a path downward by making it, and
-we were rewarded by seeing a house under the
-trees.</p>
-
-<p>An old woman was reeling silk from the cocoons
-which she had floating in a bowl of hot
-water. She glanced up casually when she heard
-our step, but when she saw what she saw her
-mouth and eyes opened and the cocoons dropped
-from her fingers. It was the purity of absolute
-surprise without admixed fear or any other diluting
-emotion. I began to doubt that she would ever
-have another emotion but at last the need for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span>
-breath racked her, and the resulting gasp freed
-her from the spell of silence which, indeed, was
-a most unusual state. She assailed us with a
-deluge of questions. With every possible variation
-of the query she demanded to know if we
-were really foreigners. I was repeating, “<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">Hei,
-hei, seiyo-jin</i>” as best I could when I heard
-coming through the valley the welcome rattle of
-the demon bicycle.</p>
-
-<p>I turned over my task to Hori and he took up
-the assurance to the old woman that she was actually
-in the presence of flesh and blood foreigners.
-With his every reiteration the wider became the
-smile of her satisfaction. She stood on one foot
-and then the other and clapped her hands and
-finally ran across the road to another house. She
-called into the door and a young woman came out.
-The girl was the wife of her grandson and the
-explanations had to be made over again for her.
-Then we sat down on the floor and she brought
-tea and cold water and red peaches. The questions
-still came. Our wrinkled hostess was a delighted
-child. She stared at one of us and then
-turned to stare at the other. At last she settled
-a continuing gaze upon me. She was enduring
-some restraint but it could be humanly endured
-no longer. She walked over to me and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span>
-naïvely unbuttoned the top buttons of my flannel
-shirt.</p>
-
-<p>“It is so,” she said to her granddaughter-in-law,
-“they are white all over.”</p>
-
-<p>When we got up to go I asked permission to
-take her picture. We all stepped into the road
-together. When the camera clicked and was again
-in my rucksack, she dramatically raised her eyes
-to the mountain tops and gave us her <i lang="la" xml:lang="la">vale</i>.</p>
-
-<p>“I am eighty years old. I have never seen a
-foreigner. I have wanted all my life to see a
-foreigner. Now that I have seen foreigners I can
-die happy.”</p>
-
-<p>We gave her one of our paper umbrellas as a
-remembrance so that if she should wake up the
-next morning with a doubt that it had all really
-happened there would be that visible evidence
-standing in the corner. The testimony of our
-visitation in the shape of a fifteen-cent umbrella
-was evidently appreciated. She took it cherishingly
-in her arms as if it were newborn and of
-flickering life.</p>
-
-<p>It is fourteen miles by railroad from Fujimi
-to Hinoharu. The railroad would be the shortest
-distance for a crow, but even that bird might
-find himself the blacker if he should essay the
-long, sooted tunnels. We found many extra miles<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span>
-by exploring the up-and-down paths for the
-changing views of Fuji, but nevertheless it was
-early in the afternoon when we reached Hinoharu.
-I then discovered two shaved ice shops, one after
-the other, and the intoxication pitched my mood
-to full ebulliency. For one day O-Owre-san
-could have as much walking as he could digest
-as far as I was concerned. We shouldered our
-rucksacks and Hori coasted off down the hill
-with the promise of a welcome of shaved ice and
-a hot bath at the best inn in Nirasaki.</p>
-
-<p>Some distance out of Hinoharu and well into
-the country we discovered two brothers of the
-road. They were trying to manufacture a cup
-out of a piece of bamboo to reach into the recesses
-of the rocks to get at the water of a trickling
-spring. We offered them the aid of our aluminum
-cup. Japan may affirm, as she does, the non-existence
-of any variety of native hobo, but I am
-sure that either of our new friends would have answered
-to the call of “Hello, Jack!” After salutations
-and thanks were passed, O-Owre-san and I
-climbed up the bank to the plot of grass in front
-of a wayside temple and sat down for a contemplative
-rest in the shade. We always tempted
-calamity, it seemed, when we tried to rest under
-the shadow of a temple. The two Jacks came<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span>
-tumbling after and shared our cigarettes with
-Oriental appreciation. They were rather picturesque
-individuals. Their cotton clothes were not
-only in tatters but were imaginatively patched. In
-a land where there is nudity and not nakedness
-patches do seem an affectation of the imagination.</p>
-
-<p>I was sleepy from the sun and I dropped back
-in a natural couch between the roots of a tree
-and pulled my cork helmet down over my face to
-keep off the flies, leaving to O-Owre-san the study
-of the habits and customs of the Nipponese tramp.
-As I lay there in drowsy half-sleep one of those
-companions, so I judged from the sounds which
-crept under my hat into my ears, was suffering
-from a mood of restlessness. Also he was afflicted
-with a strange, gasping wheeze. I had just
-reached the point of being interested enough to
-look out from under my hat when a panting
-breath was expulsed over my neck, and my hat
-arose from no effort of mine. I was left lying
-between the roots to look into a pair of pitiless,
-yellow eyes.</p>
-
-<p>It took me a frigid moment to discover that
-my vis-à-vis was a horse. The animal stood over
-me, holding my hat in his teeth just beyond any
-sudden swing of my hand. After he had had
-sufficiency of staring he tossed his head, still holding<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span>
-fast to the hat, and ambled off towards the
-road. I jumped to my feet and followed. As
-soon as the bony, ill-kempt creature stepped out
-of the temple grounds his malevolence vanished.
-He dropped the hat into the gutter and jogged
-away to find a more conventional pasture. We
-could now add animals to the list of uncanny
-powers that from time to time had driven us from
-resting in temple grounds. I had no temper left
-for facing the laughter of the two Japanese
-tramps. I called back to O-Owre-san that I was
-on my way and he kindly brought my rucksack.</p>
-
-<p>Instead of the usual sharp differentiation between
-city and country, Nirasaki has an indefinite
-beginning of straggling houses. The town
-lies along the shore of the Kamanashigawa river,
-which has cut its way through the granite rocks
-of the valley, a strong current flowing a thick,
-whitish grey colour. As we were entering the
-outskirts we heard the shrill whistle of the reed
-pipe of a pedlar and a moment later we saw him
-coming out of a gate carrying his swinging
-boxes of trays hung from a yoke across his shoulders.
-He was so abnormally tall for a Japanese
-that we quickened our step to have a look at him.
-He dropped the reed from his lips to sing-song his
-wares&mdash;odds and ends of shining trumpery. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span>
-words were Japanese but the intoning called us
-back to China, and when we saw his face we were
-sure that he was a Manchu. He knew the last
-ingratiating artifice that has ever been accredited
-either to pedlar or Celestial. We delayed to appreciate
-his technic, to see him approach the
-women of the open-sided houses, and to fascinate
-them by the intensity of his will to please, and
-also by his ingratiating gallantry.</p>
-
-<p>“Take care!” we felt like saying oracularly
-to all Japan. “Take care that you never attempt
-the conquest of China. China may be conquered
-but never the Chinese. They will rise up and slay
-you not by arms but by serving you better than
-you can serve yourselves.”</p>
-
-<p>We found Hori resting in an ice shop. He
-had judged truly that the easiest way to find us
-was to let us find him, trusting that as long as I
-had a <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">sen</i> I would never pass a <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kori</i> flag. The
-very pretty maid had her <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kimono</i> sleeves tied
-back from her graceful arms. I do not know what
-story Kenjiro Hori had concocted to tell her but
-after she had handed me my cupful of snow she
-watched me steadily with the air that she expected
-black magic at any moment. I caught a glimpse
-of Hori’s twinkle. I was filled with suspicion.
-Finally the maid turned upon Hori in exasperation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span>
-and said many things. Some strange tale
-told about foreigners must have been one of Hori’s
-best creations, but in some way we had failed to
-live up to our heralding. She was exceedingly
-pretty and a pretty girl in a pretty tempest is just
-as interesting and bewitching in Nirasaki as in
-any other spot in the world. However, any translation
-of his tale to her Hori refused absolutely.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub-->
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2>XIV<br />
-<span class="titlefont">CONCERNING INN MAIDS AND ALSO THE ELIXIR OF LIFE</span></h2>
-
-
-<p>The native inn is such an interweaving of
-privacy with no privacy at all that if the traveller
-has a sympathetic liking for the hospitality it
-should be put down to his temperament rather
-than to his reasonableness or unreasonableness.
-Calling upon all his reasonableness, the foreigner
-may still be miserable amid Japanese customs if
-he were born to a different crystallization. Hori
-considered the inn at Nirasaki to be rather superior
-to the average, meaning, I judged, not the
-luxury of the furnishings so much as the excellence
-of the service. The house was crowded.
-At most of the country inns which we had so far
-found we were the only guests, and the entire
-family of the host had usually requisitioned itself
-into service. Willingness and interest had made
-up for the few lacks but this home-made machinery
-might well have broken down if there had been
-a sudden descent of other guests. At Nirasaki,
-despite the crowding, we had not to wait an instant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span>
-for the carrying out of any request. At all
-times two maids were listening for our handclapping
-and, for some of the time, three. They added
-to the customary willingness the knowing how of
-training. They were, in fact, trained inn <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">ne-sans</i>,
-a class whose manners and morals have been commented
-upon with some frequency by casual travellers,
-and it is possible that the outside world’s
-popular judgment of Japanese women has sprung
-largely from such observations.</p>
-
-<p>In any argument about Japanese morals the
-likelihood is that the simplest discussion will soon
-march headlong into a controversy. There arises
-in a critical comparison of their standards with
-ours the temptation to assume as a basis our ideal
-standard against their everyday practice.</p>
-
-<p>The Japanese maid, the daughter of the common
-people, has been again and again condemned
-for the easy lightness of her regard for her virtue.
-I have not found that foreigners who have
-lived in Japan and who have known the people
-intimately join their assent to this sweeping judgment.
-This charge has grown out of a confusion
-of possibility with fact. Although we consider
-that our Western individualism allows far more
-freedom of choice than does the Eastern family
-social regulation, particularly in the rigid customs<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span>
-and traditions for women, nevertheless in the morality
-of sex the guardianship of her chastity by an
-unmarried Japanese woman of the lower classes is
-a matter much more of her private concern and
-nobody else’s business than social opinion deems
-an advisable licence with us. But because the
-Japanese woman has this freedom it is as absurd
-to conclude that she makes but one choice as it
-would be to believe that all order in our society is
-maintained solely through the police and iron-clad
-restrictions. When conduct shall be entirely determined
-by rules, then it will be time to relegate
-character to the museum.</p>
-
-<p>The duties of the maids of an inn have never
-included that she must be self-effaced and a silent
-machine. In the historic friendly relationship
-between maids and guests there exists a certain
-standard of manners and good taste, a subtle necessity
-to the continuance of such existence. One
-cannot compare the customs of a Japanese inn
-with the traditions existing in an Occidental hotel.
-The <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">ne-san</i> is unique. When simplicity and naïve
-amusement are spontaneously natural, vulgarity
-is starved.</p>
-
-<p>After dinner the three maids brought a fresh
-brewing of tea and teapots filled with iced water.
-They also brought the message that a travelling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span>
-theatrical troupe from Tokyo was giving both
-new and classical plays at the Nirasaki theatre.
-The actors and actresses were guests under our
-roof and the mistress of the inn sent the suggestion
-that the strollers would probably be pleased
-to entertain us in our room with an act from one
-of their plays and with dancing and music when
-they returned at midnight. After our thirty miles
-in the hot sun the hour of midnight sounded
-grotesquely post-futuristic. However, it might
-well have been possible, fortified by tea, iced
-water, and tobacco, to have awaited the hour if
-it had not been for another limit to our independence.
-Temperamentally we might take little heed
-of the morrow but we had also New England consciences
-about paying our bills. We could not
-invite the players to our room without inviting
-them to a midnight supper, and we knew that
-the joint treasury could not pay for such a supper.</p>
-
-<p>Thus we made the excuse to the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">ne-sans</i> that
-their laughter was more pleasing to us than the
-sound of the <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">samisen</i>. (This statement was not
-without truth in itself.) The responsibility of
-amusing us did not seem to weigh heavily upon
-them; in fact it was we who appeared to be amusing
-to them. Stupid creatures, we, who could not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span>
-even play the game of “Stone, Scissors, and Paper!”
-Our Occidental wits were always a fraction
-of a second behind. Hori laughed at the
-bearded O-Owre-san until the toxic of the paroxysm
-made him delirious. At last we acknowledged
-the sheerness of our defeats at every venture by
-sending the victors for ice cream and cakes, and
-the evening ended with the solemn ceremonial of
-trying to move the small tin spoons back and
-forth between plate and lips quickly enough to
-make a transfer of the frozen mounds before the
-heat of the tropical night levelled them into
-liquid.</p>
-
-<p>To escape the mid-day sun in the short walk to
-Kofu, we were off a little after sunrise. Kofu
-is more than two thousand feet lower than Fujimi
-and lies in the heart of a flat valley. It is an
-ancient city and has not lost its ancient pride,
-being the wealthy capital of the Kai province.
-We had so much time for the walk that we delayed
-continually, bargaining in little second-hand
-shops where the entire stock could hardly have
-been worth more than a <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">yen</i>, and stopping at the
-coolie tea places where labourers rested to smoke
-and to mop their faces with pale blue towels.
-When we were entering Kofu we were again
-tempted to halt upon seeing a <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">kori</i> flag floating<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span>
-in the air, proclaiming that an ice supply had arrived.
-We had not expected to see Hori before
-we should meet at the inn, but by chance he came
-wheeling along our street. We called out and he
-came into our shade. Listeners gathered around
-our bench, apparently not so much interested in
-seeing foreigners as in hearing a Japanese speak
-English.</p>
-
-<p>In the crowd was a very old man, so old that
-his age seemed pathological rather than human.
-He made progress by a slow pushing of his feet
-through the dust. His red-rimmed, staring eyes
-leered into ours as if we exerted a direct line
-of magnetism. If we shifted our gaze he immediately
-shifted around until he again came into
-vision. Under his arm he carried a long glass
-bottle, stoppered with a cloth-wound plug. He
-held up the bottle before us. It was filled with a
-dirty, pale yellow liquid. Pushed into the bottle
-was a twisted root holding in the tangle of fibres
-two or three stones furred with slime. The stones
-looked somewhat like asbestos.</p>
-
-<p>“What do you think it is?” he asked mysteriously.</p>
-
-<p>We said that we had no idea.</p>
-
-<p>“I wouldn’t dare tell you the secret,” he went
-on, “as the bottle is worth five hundred thousand<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span>
-<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">yen</i>. If you should pay me a hundred <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">yen</i> I
-would not allow you one taste.”</p>
-
-<p>We expressed our happiness that he should
-have such a fortune. Then he asked if we were
-Americans and, upon hearing that we were, he
-formally inquired for an answer as to whether
-the American nation would buy the bottle. “I
-can tell you this much,” he concluded, “it contains
-the elixir of eternal life.”</p>
-
-<p>The ancient seemed to be such proof in himself
-that he had lived forever that there was no arguing
-about eternity with him. For the sake of
-saying something Hori made the casual guess,
-“Is it radium?” He was startled into palsy.
-The crowd stared. Evidently they had heard of
-radium and it meant magic. Alas! We had
-gouged out the secret. “Ah-h-h!” said he, “since
-you know so much, how can you resist the opportunity
-of living forever?” We explained that
-under the circumstances of our poverty it looked
-as if we should have to die along with the rest of
-the world.</p>
-
-<p>“I have been but testing your faith and knowledge,”
-he said. “The radium of the rocks is
-permanent. Listen! The bottle may be filled
-again and again without losing its strength. For
-only thirty <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">yen</i> you may drink.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Forthwith he uncorked the bottle and there
-escaped an odour so vile that if he had said the
-tube was the sarcophagus of the lost egg of the
-great auk we should have believed without dispute.
-He poured a few drops into a glass and
-said: “Drink, and you will live forever!”</p>
-
-<p>It is not alone honour that may make one choose
-death.</p>
-
-<p>The crowd, however, sought eagerly for eternity.
-They passed the glass around and touched
-their tongues to the liquid. If any out of the
-number of that circle escaped typhoid that fact
-alone ought to convince them of their strength to
-continue a long way on the road to eternity.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub-->
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2>XV<br />
-<span class="titlefont">THE END OF THE TRAIL</span></h2>
-
-
-<p>Whether or no the Bosen-ka inn of Kofu does
-possess a wide reputation for comfort, it should
-deservedly have it. O-Shio-san was the name of
-the maid. This means O-Salt-san, but we renamed
-her “O-Sato-san,” which means Miss
-Sugar. She said that she had been at the inn
-for fifteen years, but until the day before there
-had never come a foreigner, and now there were
-two besides ourselves. I do not understand how
-such immunity could have been possible in a city
-the size of Kofu. However, the fact that there
-were Occidentals under the roof of the hostelry
-at that moment was proved by sight and sound.
-After the many days of hearing only the Japanese
-cadence, the sound of Western tongues was almost
-startling. The large room, which became
-ours, was in the main building and faced the garden.
-We could look across to the wing where
-the two foreigners were sitting on their balcony.
-They were eating tiffin and talking vigorously.
-One was a short, black-haired, merry Frenchman,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span>
-the other a tall, blond, closely-cropped German.
-They spoke either language as the words came.
-Quite likely they had been in the same university
-in some European city, and their travelling
-was a leisurely grand tour. They could not have
-been hurried or they would not have taken time
-to search out Kofu. Their gay spirit was charming.
-They looked into the eyes of the world with
-a friendly gaze and the world smiled back at
-them. Within the month, France and Germany
-were to declare the implacable war.</p>
-
-<p>High-pitched footbridges linked together the
-miniature islands of the garden and carried a
-labyrinthine path over the lotus-covered pond.
-Lying on the cool, clean mats of our room, sheltered
-from the sun, the thought of antique shops
-lured me not. I declared for contemplation, but
-Hori and O-Owre-san wandered forth. O-Shio-san
-brought fresh tea and a brazier of glowing
-charcoal for my pipe. My contemplation began
-and ended with a luxurious enjoyment of the view
-of the garden. Through the quiet air came the
-slow, deep tones of temple gongs. It was a day
-of special masses. My thoughts found rest in
-sensuous nothingness and I drifted tranquilly in a
-glory of inaction. Another day of such devotion
-to passivity might have started the unfolding<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span>
-within me of the leaves of appreciation for the
-philosophy of Nirvana, but in the morning some
-illogical shame for such laziness urged me into
-joining the pilgrimage of Hori and O-Owre-san
-to the Sen-sho cañon.</p>
-
-<div id="Ref_278" class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
-<img src="images/i297.jpg" width="600" height="572" alt="" />
-<div class="caption"><p class="center">O-SHIO-SAN IN THE BOSEN-KA INN GARDEN.</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<p>The deep, sharp cleft in the granite through
-which that mountain stream pitches has a rugged
-beauty. Most perversely, if we had discovered
-the grandeur for ourselves and had not been
-over-persuaded by the innkeeper to take the long
-walk, we would undoubtedly have been more enthusiastic,
-but as it was we decided that we would
-rather have spent the day wandering about in
-Kofu. Even the unscalable cliffs took on sophistication
-from the well-worn path below, which proclaimed
-that the view had been the conventional
-thing for centuries. Despite all the instruction
-which the innkeeper had given us about distances
-and direction, he had escaped correctness in every
-detail. As often, there was no information obtainable
-from the heavily-laden coolies tramping
-along the way. If there is really any mystery
-which separates East and West it is the East’s
-oblivious indifference to time and space and our
-complete inability to understand the working of
-a mind which has over and over again been on a
-journey and yet has never considered it sufficiently<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span>
-worth while to take cognizance either of
-the distance or the hours.</p>
-
-<p>As we were walking over the flat plain to the
-beginning of the valley, we stopped for a few
-minutes to watch a field drill of the conscript
-army. It was a very hot day, but the uniforms
-seemed designed for a Manchurian winter. A few
-of the men had fallen out of the ranks from exhaustion.
-We heard later that during that hot
-week in one of the provinces some officer with a
-new theory had issued an order against the drinking
-of water during drill, and that the lives of a
-number of soldiers had been sacrificed to sunstroke.
-It stirred up an angry scandal. My
-knowledge of positive thirst would have made me
-a hanging judge if I had sat on the inquiring
-court-martial.</p>
-
-<p>We walked on and had forgotten the drill when
-four or five men and a panting officer overtook
-us. They entered into a sharp debate with Hori.
-Finally they dropped behind but followed us until
-we were a mile away. They had suspected that
-we were Russian spies.</p>
-
-<p>We lingered in Kofu for several days but at
-last again took the old road which runs through
-the long valleys to Tokyo. This trail from Kofu
-on is rather closely followed by the railway just<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span>
-as is the Tokaido in the South. I do not know
-whether it was in honour of (or in disgust at)
-all such modernities that feudal Yedo changed
-its name to Tokyo. The capital was our destination
-and we had intended keeping along the
-direct road but upon a whim (and a look at the
-map) we suddenly decided to climb the ridge
-between us and Fuji-san, and then to encircle
-the base of the sacred mountain until we should
-find again the Tokaido which we had forsaken
-at Nagoya.</p>
-
-<p>It was at the moment of this decision that the
-demon bicycle collapsed utterly. If it had acquiesced
-to the change of route it would have had
-to submit to being carried on the back of a coolie.
-I have not dared to record all the subtle ingenuities
-of that mechanical contrivance which it had
-concocted from time to time to achieve its ends.
-Its soul had been factoried under a star hostile
-to human dignity. It could bring about a loss
-of face to the most innocent who crossed its path.
-It had the pride of never having been successfully
-outwitted, and its soul was as proud as the soul
-of Lucifer. It had no intention of submitting to
-the indignity of being packed on a coolie nor to
-have the world see it with its wheels wobbling
-idly in the air. In desperate determination it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span>
-committed <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">hara-kiri</i>. Its suicide was heroically
-completed. As I recorded in the chapter when
-the bicycle was introduced, Hori gave a shining
-piece of silver to the coolie to see that the remains
-had suitable interment. Peace be to those twisted
-spokes and to that jerry-contraptioned frame!</p>
-
-<p>About noon we found a man with a horse.
-The man hired himself out to run along behind
-and Hori mounted the animal. The summit between
-us and Fuji was only about three thousand
-feet above our heads but as we continually had
-to go down into deep valleys and come up again
-our gross climbing took many steps. The
-thatched villages were very primitive, and the
-people were very nude. The homes which clung
-desperately to the edges of the cliffs must have
-had to breed a special race of children to survive
-tumbles, just as in the villages underneath on
-the shores of the small lakes, they must have
-had to breed an instinctive knowledge of floating.
-The houses of those peasants were as
-much a part of nature as are birds’ nests, and
-they so welded themselves into the unity of
-the view from the ridges that we did not even
-think to call them picturesque.</p>
-
-<p>Poor Hori had not a moment when he could
-sit perpendicularly on his steed. The road was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span>
-either a scramble or a slide. Finally he dismissed
-the coolies and the horse. We were at
-the beginning of a path which was built in sharp
-zigzags up the side of the mountain. A half-dozen
-coolie girls with huge chests strapped on
-their shoulders stopped at a spring and sat down
-for a moment to fan their flushed, pretty faces.
-They told us that this was the last climb but they
-were indefinite about the remaining distance or
-the time that it would take. It had been our
-plan to get to the top in time for the sunset view
-of Fuji and the lakes. Perhaps the demon bicycle
-had been granted one last diabolical wish.
-We were within a few feet of the summit, the
-air was seemingly clear, when down came a thick,
-wet cloud from nowhere at all, and our expectation
-for the crowning glory of the day vanished.</p>
-
-<p>All the way down the other side of the mountain
-the fog hung over us but it lifted when
-we reached the shore of Lake Shoji. A village
-straggled along the water edge. We knew that
-across the lake was a foreign hotel, but if we
-had not known it we should nevertheless have had
-some such suspicion. From the attitude of the
-villagers it was evident that we had traversed
-again into tourist territory. The mild, jocular<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span>
-incivility of the natives of any tourist resort any
-place in the world, except when there is some
-restraint under the immediacy of employment,
-is innate and needs no aggravation for its flowering.
-We were tourists, therefore we must be
-imbecilic. Derisive hooting followed our ears
-when we started walking around the lake instead
-of conventionally taking a boat. Between the
-fog on the mountain top and our reception in the
-village we were somewhat out of sympathy with
-the last hour of the day, and we were even less
-happy when we reached the hotel, and it was
-brought to our attention that we had failed to
-remember that foreign prices prevail at foreign
-hotels. True, there were excellent reasons why
-the charges should be higher than at the native
-inns. The foreign supplies had to be brought
-long distances on coolie back. This knowledge,
-however, did not increase the number of <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">yen</i> in
-our pockets. We were in a fitting mood for turning
-away and pushing on to some isolated village.
-Such a mood can drive a good bargain and the
-end was that we were given a room with three
-iron cots at a minimum charge. I must pay this
-tribute to that iron cot: I relaxed on its springs
-in an abandonment to sleep which I shall never
-forget. But there were other things foreign<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span>
-which were not so pleasant. To have to wait
-until eight o’clock for a formal dinner when we
-were accustomed to having meals served at the
-clapping of our hands, and to have to thump over
-rough board floors after we had known the refinement
-of soft matting, and to have to endure
-all the other half-achieved attempts at foreign
-service&mdash;well, “going native,” as the Britishers
-say in final judgment, “had been the ruining of
-us.”</p>
-
-<p>Waiting until the late foreign breakfast hour
-in the morning almost numbed the cheerfulness
-that had risen in me from the exhilarating sleep
-on the luxurious bed of springs, but the day was
-shining in such perfection when we found an unfrequented
-trail north of the chain of lakes, and
-Fuji-san was resting so clearly in the crystal
-air across the pine tree plain, that we quickly
-dumped into a maw of forgetfulness any remembrance
-of such mundane annoyances as foreign
-hotels. It may have been that volcanic gases were
-breaking through the clefts in the rocks and that
-the fumes inspired us with a Delphic madness;
-our mood became ecstatic. We unburdened ourselves
-of wild and soaring theories of art and
-religion, of love and life&mdash;and there were theories
-that came forth which we had never dreamed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span>
-existed in cosmos. We scattered these inspired
-words in wanton waste as if we were on a journey
-to some world where such wealth would be dross.</p>
-
-<p>The town which we found for the night was
-on what is called “the Shoji route around Fuji.”
-We avoided the semi-foreign hotel but that did
-not save us from being tourists. The native inn
-had ready for us in the morning a bill almost twice
-as large as it should have been. In consequence
-we added no “tea-money.” If we had, we should
-have gone from the village penniless. In all our
-wandering this was the first deliberate overcharge,
-and in one way it may have been justified in the
-opinion of the mistress. She had probably learned
-from the semi-foreign hotel across the street that
-foreigners know not the custom of tea-money and
-ignorantly pay only the bill that is presented without
-adding a suitable and proportionate present.</p>
-
-<p>Truly we were now in the domain not only of
-the foreign tourist but of the native pilgrim as
-well. All day we walked through the towns which
-serve as starting points for the different routes of
-ascent for Fuji. It was the height of the season
-for the sacred climb and the towns, purveying
-every imaginable necessity and souvenir, had
-mushroomed into crowded camps. We were unworthy
-guests. As far as our purchasing ability<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span>
-was concerned, a postcard was an outside luxury.
-When we reached Gotemba we sat down for a
-conference, following the rule of “when in doubt
-drink a pot of tea.”</p>
-
-<p>By rail to Yokohama was fifty-one miles. We
-had leisurely covered about twenty-five miles that
-day. Even if we should make ten or fifteen miles
-more before night, there would be a sufficiently
-long, scorching, penniless day to come. The
-country was not new to us as we had both tramped
-through the exploited Miyanoshita and Kamakura
-districts. “Since these things are so,” I made
-argument, “let’s use our remaining coppers to buy
-tickets on the express to Yokohama.” As no one’s
-pride sufficiently demanded that we had to take
-the fifty-one miles on foot, this plan was our final
-agreement.</p>
-
-<p>Our linen suits were perhaps not as freshly
-laundered as those of the other haughty <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">seiyo-jins</i>
-who were riding on the first and second-class
-cars of the train, but otherwise our poverty did
-not particularly proclaim itself. We walked to
-our hotel in Yokohama and took rooms, relying
-that future funds would come out of the letter
-which was supposedly waiting at the bank for me.
-In the meantime in the bag which had been forwarded
-from Nagoya I found a two-dollar American<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span>
-bill. This gift we cashed into <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">yen</i> and sat
-through the evening on a terrace over the bund
-along the water front, sipping forgotten coffee
-and ordering long, iced, fresh lemon drinks. A
-steamer had landed that day and at the next table
-to ours was a charming group of American girls.
-They were filled with enthusiasm for the exotic.
-The soft, evening air, the passing life along the
-street, and the gay tables carried me back to my
-own first night in Japan, which had been spent
-eleven years before on that very terrace.</p>
-
-<p>The hoped-for letter was waiting for me at the
-bank. The amount above the exact sum necessary
-for my steamship ticket had been intended for insurance
-against extras. It was now necessary
-for mere existence. We entered into an infinite
-calculation of finance down to the ultimate <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">sen</i>.
-Yokohama was no place for economy and we
-shook off its dust for that of Tokyo and were
-happy again in a native inn. With our linen suits
-laundered, we called on old friends and shopped
-betimes on credit. It was a rather queer sensation
-to be bargaining for luxuries when a mere
-<i lang="la" xml:lang="la">bona fide</i> payment of a ’ricksha charge meant a
-most delicate readjustment of our entire capital.
-Dealers were quite willing to forward boxes to
-America with hardly more guarantee than our<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span>
-promise to pay sometime. I felt that if we were
-to ask them suddenly for ten <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">yen</i> in cash our
-credit would have crashed to earth. Nevertheless
-we were confident of our dole outlasting our needs.
-We lived our moments gaily. We saved <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">yen</i> to
-pay the inn bill, and our boat was scheduled to
-sail on a certain day.</p>
-
-<p>Hori was determined that our last day should
-be worthy and memorable. Through friends he
-arranged that we should meet Count Okuma, the
-Premier of the Empire. We had made most of
-our visits about the city on foot, and on one of
-the hottest days we had walked the round trip of
-a dozen miles to have afternoon tea with a former
-Japanese diplomat to America and his family,
-trusting that his sense of humour would forgive
-our perspiration, but one does not arrive thus at
-a palace door. Great was the excitement at the
-inn when ’ricksha men were called and our destination
-was given out. We dashed away and
-careened around the corners at tremendous speed.
-It was at least the second hottest day of the year,
-but the coolies realized that they were part of a
-ceremony and that their duty was to arrive streaming,
-panting, and exhausted.</p>
-
-<p>Count Okuma, on his son’s arm, entered the
-small reception room into which we were shown.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span>
-(The bullet of a fanatic shattered the bone of his
-leg when he was a young man.) Count Okuma
-is almost the last survivor of that group who
-directed the miracle of transforming the Japan
-of feudalism into the modern nation.</p>
-
-<p>We drank tea and asked formal questions. Following
-some turn of the conversation&mdash;Count
-Okuma was speaking of loyalty&mdash;we inquired, as
-we had of the ancient schoolmaster of Kama-Suwa:
-“Can virtue be taught?”</p>
-
-<p>The expression in the eyes of the Premier’s
-great, handsome head had been passive as he
-had acquiesced in what had been said up to that
-time. Now his expression became positive. He
-spoke slowly as if he were summing up the belief
-and experience of a lifetime.</p>
-
-<p>“When Japan, after her centuries of hermitage,
-had suddenly either to face the West and to compete
-successfully with you, or to sink into being a
-tributary and exploited people, our greatest necessity
-in patriotism was to recognize instantly that
-in the physical and material world we had to learn
-everything from you. Our social, commercial, and
-governmental methods were suited only to the organization
-of society which we then had. We
-discovered that your world is a world of commerce
-and competition; that the achieving of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span>
-wealth from the profits of trade demands training,
-efficiency, ingenuity, and initiative. Our
-civilization had not developed these qualities in
-us. We could only hope that we had latent ability.
-Furthermore, observation of you taught us
-to realize the value of physical power. We saw
-that mere superior cleverness and ability in the
-competition to live is not sufficient until backed
-by a preparedness of force. America was our
-great teacher and we shall never cease to be
-grateful. In the physical world we had everything
-to learn from you, and to-day we must constantly
-remember that we have only begun to
-learn.</p>
-
-<p>“It was our overwhelming task to begin at the
-beginning, and we should have had no success if it
-had not been for the moral qualities of the Japanese
-people. These virtues cannot be taught&mdash;merely
-as they are required. They are the spiritual
-and moral inheritage from the past. In the
-avalanche of Western ideas which came upon us, it
-was our great work to pick, to choose, and to
-adapt. These ideas were the ideas of the commercial
-world. There are those who say that
-Japan in taking over these standards of materialism
-relinquished the priceless inheritance of its
-own spiritual life. No! We have had <em>everything</em><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span>
-to learn from you in methods, but that
-should not be confused with spiritual values. I
-do not mean mere creeds and dogma, but to the
-essence, the great fundamentals of all true religion.</p>
-
-<p>“It is possible that sometime in the future the
-outside world may discover that it will have need
-to come to us for the values that are ours through
-our great moral inheritance of loyalty. In a material
-way we can never pay back to you our
-obligation for having been taught your material
-lessons. But it may be that Western nations
-have put too great faith in materialism and that
-they will arrive at the bitter knowledge that the
-fruit of life is death unless the faith of men
-reaches out for something beyond the material.
-Then, if we of Japan have humbly guarded our
-spiritual wealth, the world may come to ask the
-secret of our spiritual values as we went to you
-to ask the inner secret of your material values.”</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub-->
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2>XVI<br />
-<span class="titlefont">BEACH COMBERS</span></h2>
-
-
-<p>On the morning that the boat was to sail from
-Yokohama we were up as soon as the sun first
-came through the bamboo shades. We exchanged
-presents with everyone in the inn and then walked
-away to the station, and everyone from the aristocratic
-mistress to the messenger boy stood waving
-to us as long as we could turn back to see
-them. Our packages and presents half filled the
-car. Hori had had a telegram to hurry home.
-The train was a through express to Kyoto and
-we said “<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">sayonara</i>” to him from the Yokohama
-platform.</p>
-
-<p>We went to the bank and I exchanged my receipt
-for the envelope which held the money for
-my steamer ticket. In our treasury was left one
-last Japanese note which we had been saving as
-a margin. We now thought it was safely ours to
-spend as we might choose. We went to find some
-very particular incense and some very particular
-tea which a Japanese acquaintance had discovered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span>
-and had given us the address of. We plunged
-almost to the limit of the note.</p>
-
-<p>“Haven’t you heard that your boat has been
-held up forty-eight hours in Kobe?” asked the
-steamship agent.</p>
-
-<p>We had heard no such news, but we were interested.
-To be able to have, when one might wish
-to make the choice, the gift of forty-eight hours
-in Japan would be one sort of a blessing. At
-that particular moment the prospect had complications.
-Until that instant our system of finance
-had been the pride of our hearts. We had calculated
-so admirably that we had retained just
-one <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">yen</i> for porters’ fees at the dock.</p>
-
-<p>O-Owre-san had his return ticket. “Can’t I
-pay for my ticket in part by cheque?” I asked.</p>
-
-<p>After consultation in the inner office the agent
-returned and announced, “No, that isn’t done.”</p>
-
-<p>The agent and his advisers thought that if I
-should happen to fall overboard there might be a
-legal complication with my estate&mdash;if I happened
-to have an estate.</p>
-
-<p>“Your records show,” I argued, “that my
-friend has crossed on your line three times. Discounting
-any other substantiality, at least that
-proves that one of us has had practice in not tumbling
-overside.”</p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span></p>
-
-<p>Evidently my logic was at fault. From the
-dubious looks that came across the desk I judged
-that the agent was thinking that such fly-like
-pertinacity of sticking aboard a vessel was suspicious
-and unnatural in a passenger.</p>
-
-<p>“Well,” said O-Owre-san as we walked away,
-“you’ve wondered what it would be like to be
-an amateur beach comber. Now is your admirable
-chance.”</p>
-
-<p>O-Owre-san seemed to forget that he was in
-no better position than was I in regard to
-funds.</p>
-
-<p>The day before we had had tea with the
-Premier of Japan. Now we faced forty-eight
-hours of starvation. Our horoscopes evidently
-had been cast that we were to be beach combers,
-the admirable chance of which O-Owre-san had
-suggested.</p>
-
-<p>We did not deceive ourselves that our few hours
-of homelessness made us professionals, nevertheless
-we were given a picture impression of Yokohama
-that could only have been bought by hunger
-and sleeplessness. We saw the going to bed of the
-city, and we saw its getting up. We saw Theatre
-Street gay with lanterns and filled with merrymakers.
-Hours later we saw the lanterns go out
-and the waiters and waitresses come forth to crowd<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span>
-into the public baths. We walked through the
-glitter of the street which winds between the
-houses of the wall-imprisoned <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">Yoshiwara</i> district.
-There is but one entrance to this district&mdash;a long
-stone bridge. We saw that bridge again, at the
-hour of sunrise. It was then crowded with beggars
-and loathsome hangers-on, waiting to importune
-the exodus. Vice by grey daylight is horrible,
-and those brilliant palaces of the night before
-bulked in a row of dull and sinister ugliness
-in the half daylight. Back and forth we explored
-the streets of the city. We passed a foreign
-sailors’ low dive, and a toothless old woman
-and a leering youth grabbed at our arms and
-invited us in. They spoke phrases of English.
-There was wild laughter and music on the upper
-floor.</p>
-
-<p>Sometimes the hours went quickly, sometimes
-they lingered interminably with no seeming relation
-between their speeding and the interest of
-the moment. Sometimes we were hungry and
-sometimes we forgot our hunger. We found a
-small park near the foreign settlement with
-benches admirable for sleeping if it had not been
-for the diligence of the sand fleas and the gnats.
-From the park we walked down along the bund
-and on the promenade facing the harbour we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span>
-found two seats. A Japanese sailor was sitting
-on one.</p>
-
-<p>We wished him good-evening and shared with
-him our cigarettes. After a time we wandered
-away to walk again through the streets of the
-bright lanterns. We had been refusing ’ricksha
-men for so many hours that the guild at last
-seemed to remember us as non-possibilities, that
-is, all except one man who persisted in turning
-up at every corner. He spoke some English and
-had a new suggestion for his every proposal. If
-ever a coolie looked theatrically villainous, it was
-that coolie; and furthermore, he was half-drunk
-from cheap <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">sake</i>. Eventually he discovered a
-companion and the two of them settled down at
-our heels. Whenever we hesitated they threw
-their ’ricksha shafts across our path. They
-thought that we were officers from some ship and
-they were counting upon our having to return
-before the four-o’clock watch. I do not know that
-officers ever do have to return at that hour, but
-the coolies were sure that we had such necessity.
-When four o’clock came they were mystified and
-angry. Until then they had rather amused us.
-We now told them to be off and we walked away
-into the quiet streets. They still persisted in their
-following. We tried indifference and we tried<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span>
-invective. I could see that the police at the corners
-were watching the procession. We might
-have appealed to them, but one seldom appeals to
-the police in a foreign land, especially in Japan,
-if there is any question of time to be considered.
-We had to take the boat the next morning. We
-had no desire to be ordered to report the next day
-at a police station; and for the matter of that, I
-should hardly have felt like criticizing any officer
-for deciding to lock us all up together. The coolies
-might have appealed that we had hired them
-and had not paid them. Anyhow, why should
-two foreigners be wandering around in questionable
-districts at such an hour of the night? If
-there had to be a settlement with our pair of villains,
-it was just as well to have it beyond the
-eye of the law.</p>
-
-<p>Our next move was melodramatic. We drew a
-line across the road and when our parasites
-caught up we told them that they crossed that line
-at their peril. Just what we should have done if
-they had crossed the line I have no idea. We
-walked along pleased with the result of our ultimatum
-until, ten or fifteen minutes later, I happened
-to turn around and again saw the two men,
-this time without their ’rickshas.</p>
-
-<p>We were now headed toward the sea front by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span>
-way of the foreign sections. The buildings were
-absolutely dark but there was an occasional street
-light. If there were any watchmen they were
-within the walls. We had walked through the
-narrow streets of that district so often that we
-remembered the turns. We felt sure that the men
-could not catch up with us except from behind.
-We were well out on the bund before they came
-out of the alley that we had left. They were both
-carrying sticks, which looked like ’ricksha shafts,
-and the second man had a knife.</p>
-
-<p>We walked along toward the benches where we
-had been sitting earlier in the night. Steamer
-lights were twinkling on the harbour and O-Owre-san
-pointed out our ship waiting to dock at sunrise.
-Years before I had been attacked in the
-streets of San Francisco, but that assault had
-been so sudden that there was no anticipatory excitement.
-Our Yokohama anticipatory reflection
-was the amusing idea that if the knaves should attain
-the triumph of searching our pockets they
-would have a most disheartening anti-climax
-after all their evening’s trouble.</p>
-
-<p>Just as we reached the benches they came for
-us. We stepped around the first bench to break
-the charge. Outstretched on the bench was our
-Japanese sailor whom we had helped out with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span>
-cigarettes. He may have been asleep, but when
-he jumped to his feet he was very wide awake.
-Without waiting for particulars he whipped out
-a clasp knife. We had been friends and this was
-a chance to even up his obligation to us. The
-two coolies stopped as if they had run against an
-invisible wire. We stood facing each other, and
-then, as stealthily as a great cat, the sailor began
-moving forward. He walked very slowly but he
-seemed to thirst to use his knife. Even with three
-to two, I felt that the coolies, half-drunken, would
-have tried to hold their ground if it had not been
-for the sailor’s uncanny deliberation. They waited
-for him to come no nearer. They fled. We
-could hear them running long after the darkness
-closed them in.</p>
-
-<p>We tried to express our appreciation to the
-sailor for his interest. He made some answer
-which sounded as if he were bored.</p>
-
-<p>One place and another we had found a little
-sleep in the two days but the thought of a soft,
-clean steamer bunk began to form itself in my
-brain and the first sign of the sun was truly welcome.
-We turned back to the city for one last
-long walk over the heights. The town was sleepily
-waking up. The streets that had been the darkest
-in the night were now the busiest. Our walk<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span>
-ended at the parcel room of the railway station
-where we had left our rucksacks. The boy who
-was sweeping out the station restaurant allowed
-us to shave and scrub behind a screen and
-make ourselves somewhat presentable for the
-boat.</p>
-
-<p>Our luggage, which had been in storage, was on
-the dock waiting for us. O-Owre-san thoroughly
-shook the linen envelope which had so long been
-our treasury but the yield refused to increase
-beyond three silver ten-<i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">sen</i> pieces. I once saw an
-Italian in Venice fee an entire hotel line with a
-few coppers. He accomplished the act with such
-graceful courtesy that seemingly the servitors
-were appreciative of the spirit of the giving rather
-than the value of the coins. I tried to distribute
-our pieces of silver to the porters on the dock
-with an air copied from my remembrance of the
-Italian, and the Nipponese recipients entered into
-the drama with sufficient make-belief to have saved
-our faces if it had not been for the chill in the
-critical eyes of two English sailors standing at the
-gangplank. The implication of their Anglo-Saxon
-hauteur was that it might be satisfying to
-the heathen in their darkness to weigh in with the
-heft of compensation such useless freight as
-palaver and smiles, but as for them, they belonged<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span>
-to a civilization preferring less manners and more
-substance.</p>
-
-<p>As the boat swung from the pier and open
-water began to show, a man came running down
-the dock waving the copy of a cablegram. “Germany
-has invaded France and England may declare
-war,” he shouted. Yes, decidedly our days of
-turning back the clock were over. We were no
-longer <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">ronins</i> wandering in feudal Japan. We
-had left the Two-Sworded Trails and were back in
-the civilization of the two English sailors.</p>
-
-<p>Slowly the harbour of Yokohama was curtained
-and disappeared behind a brightly glistening mist.
-I stood against the rail trying to think of America
-and Europe. My mind had that illusory, abnormal
-clearness which sometimes follows days without
-sleep. I stood, thinking, thinking, the first
-beginning of that agony of trying to add a cubit
-to our vision by thought.</p>
-
-<div id="Ref_290" class="figcenter" style="width: 418px;">
-<img src="images/i311.jpg" width="418" height="650" alt="" />
-<div class="caption"><p>SLOWLY THE HARBOR OF YOKOHAMA WAS CURTAINED AND DISAPPEARED
-BEHIND A BRIGHTLY GLISTENING MIST</p></div>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub-->
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span></p>
-
-<p class="center largefont">GLOSSARY OF JAPANESE WORDS</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub-->
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span></p>
-
-
-
-
-<h2>GLOSSARY OF JAPANESE WORDS</h2>
-
-<div class="center">
-<table class="toc" border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary="Japanese words.">
-<tr><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap"><a id="akambo" href="#a-akambo">Akambo</a></span></td><td class="toctitle">Infant</td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap"><a id="bento" href="#a-bento">Bento</a></span></td><td class="toctitle">Luncheon Box Sold at Railway Stations</td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap"><a id="bushido" href="#a-bushido">Bushido</a></span></td><td class="toctitle">Code of Honourable Conduct</td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap"><a id="daimyo" href="#a-daimyo">Daimyo</a></span></td><td class="toctitle">A Noble of Old Japan</td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap"><a id="furoshiki" href="#a-furoshiki">Furoshiki</a></span></td><td class="toctitle">Large Handkerchief Used for Carrying Various Objects and Packages</td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap"><a id="geisha" href="#a-geisha">Geisha</a></span></td><td class="toctitle">Trained Entertainers, Singing and Dancing Girls</td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap"><a id="geta" href="#a-geta">Geta</a></span></td><td class="toctitle">Clogs</td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap"><a id="hei" href="#a-hei">Hei</a></span></td><td class="toctitle">Expression of Affirmation</td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap"><a id="hibachi" href="#a-hibachi">Hibachi</a></span></td><td class="toctitle">Brazier for Holding Charcoal</td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap"><a id="iiye" href="#a-iiye">Iiye</a></span></td><td class="toctitle">No</td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap">Kebukai</span></td><td class="toctitle">Hairy</td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap"><a id="kirei" href="#a-kirei">Kirei</a></span></td><td class="toctitle">Beautiful</td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap"><a id="kisha" href="#a-kisha">Kisha</a></span></td><td class="toctitle">Local Train</td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap"><a id="ne-san" href="#a-ne-san">Ne-san</a></span></td><td class="toctitle">Literally “Elder Sister,” Maid</td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap"><a id="obi" href="#a-obi">Obi</a></span></td><td class="toctitle">Girdle for Kimono</td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap"><a id="o-hayo" href="#a-o-hayo">O-hayo</a></span></td><td class="toctitle">Good-morning</td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap"><a id="ramune" href="#a-ramune">Ramune</a></span></td><td class="toctitle">Carbonated, Bottled Lemonade</td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap"><a id="ronin" href="#a-ronin">Ronin</a></span></td><td class="toctitle">Unattached, Wandering <i lang="ja" xml:lang="ja">Samurai</i></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap"><a id="sake" href="#a-sake">Saké</a></span></td><td class="toctitle">Rice Wine</td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap"><a id="samurai" href="#a-samurai">Samurai</a></span></td><td class="toctitle">Military Class; Retainers of Daimyo (Feudal)</td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap"><a id="sayo" href="#a-sayo">Sayo</a></span></td><td class="toctitle">Formal “Yes”</td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap"><a id="seiyo-jin" href="#a-seiyo-jin">Seiyo-jin</a></span></td><td class="toctitle">Foreigner<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap"><a id="sen" href="#a-sen">Sen</a></span></td><td class="toctitle">Standard Small Coin Equalling One-half Cent</td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap"><a id="shogi" href="#a-shogi">Shogi</a></span></td><td class="toctitle">Sliding Screen</td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap"><a id="tabi" href="#a-tabi">Tabi</a></span></td><td class="toctitle">A Cloth Compromise Between Shoes and Stockings</td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap"><a id="yado-ya" href="#a-yado-ya">Yado-ya</a></span></td><td class="toctitle">Native Inn</td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap"><a id="yen" href="#a-yen">Yen</a></span></td><td class="toctitle">Currency Standard, Equalling Fifty Cents</td></tr>
-<tr><td class="toctitle"><span class="smcap">O-yasumi-nasai</span></td><td class="toctitle">Good-night</td></tr>
-</table></div>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<div class="chapter"></div><!--Page break for ePub-->
-
-<div class="transnote">
-<h2 id="TN_end" style="margin-top: 0em">Transcriber’s Notes:</h2>
-
-<p>Illustrations have been moved to paragraph breaks near where they are
-mentioned.</p>
-
-<p>Punctuation has been made consistent.</p>
-
-<p>Variations in spelling and hyphenation were retained as they appear in
-the original publication, except that obvious typographical errors
-have been corrected.</p>
-</div>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
-
-
-
-
-End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Samurai Trails, by Lucian Swift Kirtland
-
-*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SAMURAI TRAILS ***
-
-***** This file should be named 53327-h.htm or 53327-h.zip *****
-This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
- http://www.gutenberg.org/5/3/3/2/53327/
-
-Produced by Craig Kirkwood and the Online Distributed
-Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
-produced from images generously made available by The
-Internet Archive.)
-
-
-Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will
-be renamed.
-
-Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright
-law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works,
-so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United
-States without permission and without paying copyright
-royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part
-of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm
-concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark,
-and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive
-specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this
-eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook
-for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports,
-performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given
-away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks
-not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the
-trademark license, especially commercial redistribution.
-
-START: FULL LICENSE
-
-THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
-PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
-
-To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
-distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
-(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
-Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full
-Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at
-www.gutenberg.org/license.
-
-Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic works
-
-1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
-electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
-and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
-(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all
-the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or
-destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your
-possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a
-Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound
-by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the
-person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph
-1.E.8.
-
-1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be
-used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
-agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few
-things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
-even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See
-paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this
-agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm
-electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.
-
-1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the
-Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection
-of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual
-works in the collection are in the public domain in the United
-States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the
-United States and you are located in the United States, we do not
-claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing,
-displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as
-all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope
-that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting
-free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm
-works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the
-Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily
-comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the
-same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when
-you share it without charge with others.
-
-1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
-what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are
-in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States,
-check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this
-agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing,
-distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any
-other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no
-representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any
-country outside the United States.
-
-1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
-
-1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other
-immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear
-prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work
-on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the
-phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed,
-performed, viewed, copied or distributed:
-
- This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
- most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no
- restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it
- under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this
- eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the
- United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you
- are located before using this ebook.
-
-1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is
-derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not
-contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the
-copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in
-the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are
-redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project
-Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply
-either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or
-obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm
-trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
-
-1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
-with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
-must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any
-additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms
-will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works
-posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the
-beginning of this work.
-
-1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
-License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
-work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
-
-1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
-electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
-prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
-active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
-Gutenberg-tm License.
-
-1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
-compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including
-any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access
-to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format
-other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official
-version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site
-(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense
-to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means
-of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain
-Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the
-full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
-
-1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
-performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
-unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
-
-1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
-access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
-provided that
-
-* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
- the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
- you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed
- to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has
- agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project
- Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid
- within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are
- legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty
- payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project
- Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in
- Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg
- Literary Archive Foundation."
-
-* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
- you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
- does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
- License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all
- copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue
- all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm
- works.
-
-* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of
- any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
- electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of
- receipt of the work.
-
-* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
- distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
-
-1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than
-are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing
-from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The
-Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm
-trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
-
-1.F.
-
-1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
-effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
-works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project
-Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm
-electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may
-contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate
-or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other
-intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or
-other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or
-cannot be read by your equipment.
-
-1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
-of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
-Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
-Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
-Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
-liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
-fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
-LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
-PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
-TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
-LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
-INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
-DAMAGE.
-
-1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
-defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
-receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
-written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you
-received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium
-with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you
-with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in
-lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person
-or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second
-opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If
-the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing
-without further opportunities to fix the problem.
-
-1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
-in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO
-OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT
-LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
-
-1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
-warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of
-damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement
-violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the
-agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or
-limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or
-unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the
-remaining provisions.
-
-1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
-trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
-providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in
-accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the
-production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm
-electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses,
-including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of
-the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this
-or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or
-additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any
-Defect you cause.
-
-Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
-
-Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
-electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of
-computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It
-exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations
-from people in all walks of life.
-
-Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
-assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
-goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
-remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project
-Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
-and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future
-generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see
-Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at
-www.gutenberg.org Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg
-Literary Archive Foundation
-
-The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
-501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
-state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
-Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
-number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by
-U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
-
-The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the
-mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its
-volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous
-locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt
-Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to
-date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and
-official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact
-
-For additional contact information:
-
- Dr. Gregory B. Newby
- Chief Executive and Director
- gbnewby@pglaf.org
-
-Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
-Literary Archive Foundation
-
-Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
-spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
-increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
-freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
-array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations
-($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
-status with the IRS.
-
-The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
-charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
-States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
-considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
-with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations
-where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND
-DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular
-state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate
-
-While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
-have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
-against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
-approach us with offers to donate.
-
-International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
-any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
-outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
-
-Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
-methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other
-ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To
-donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate
-
-Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works.
-
-Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project
-Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be
-freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and
-distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of
-volunteer support.
-
-Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
-editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in
-the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not
-necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper
-edition.
-
-Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search
-facility: www.gutenberg.org
-
-This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
-including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
-Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
-subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
-
-
-
-</pre>
-
-</body>
-</html>
diff --git a/old/53327-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/53327-h/images/cover.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index 5e7a25e..0000000
--- a/old/53327-h/images/cover.jpg
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/53327-h/images/i004.jpg b/old/53327-h/images/i004.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index 2260780..0000000
--- a/old/53327-h/images/i004.jpg
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/53327-h/images/i005.jpg b/old/53327-h/images/i005.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index bbcfed4..0000000
--- a/old/53327-h/images/i005.jpg
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/53327-h/images/i029.jpg b/old/53327-h/images/i029.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index 281005a..0000000
--- a/old/53327-h/images/i029.jpg
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/53327-h/images/i051.jpg b/old/53327-h/images/i051.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index 5a5c3e2..0000000
--- a/old/53327-h/images/i051.jpg
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/53327-h/images/i089.jpg b/old/53327-h/images/i089.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index ccbee35..0000000
--- a/old/53327-h/images/i089.jpg
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/53327-h/images/i135.jpg b/old/53327-h/images/i135.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index bcb8bd1..0000000
--- a/old/53327-h/images/i135.jpg
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/53327-h/images/i151.jpg b/old/53327-h/images/i151.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index debcac3..0000000
--- a/old/53327-h/images/i151.jpg
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/53327-h/images/i179.jpg b/old/53327-h/images/i179.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index 8b7e228..0000000
--- a/old/53327-h/images/i179.jpg
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/53327-h/images/i197.jpg b/old/53327-h/images/i197.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index bcb727d..0000000
--- a/old/53327-h/images/i197.jpg
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/53327-h/images/i241.jpg b/old/53327-h/images/i241.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index 9b550db..0000000
--- a/old/53327-h/images/i241.jpg
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/53327-h/images/i265.jpg b/old/53327-h/images/i265.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index d472b2f..0000000
--- a/old/53327-h/images/i265.jpg
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/53327-h/images/i297.jpg b/old/53327-h/images/i297.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index dcbcf76..0000000
--- a/old/53327-h/images/i297.jpg
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ
diff --git a/old/53327-h/images/i311.jpg b/old/53327-h/images/i311.jpg
deleted file mode 100644
index dbec7f8..0000000
--- a/old/53327-h/images/i311.jpg
+++ /dev/null
Binary files differ