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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. 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