Alone With The Hairy Ainu Part 14

I continued my lonesome ride in the pouring rain, and soon came to a peculiar long tunnel, natural and partly excavated, between this place and Rumoi, a village prettily situated on the slope of a hill fifteen miles further. This place possesses a small anchorage at the mouth of the river, which is now only fit for junks and small sailing-boats, but could be considerably improved. Good coal has been discovered some way up the river. There is a track on the cliffs leading to Mas.h.i.+ke. All along the coast are any number of fishermen's houses, but they were all closed and barricaded. Ultimately, descending from the cliffs in a zig-zag fas.h.i.+on, after another ten miles' ride I found myself at Mas.h.i.+ke, the largest j.a.panese village in the Tes.h.i.+o district. Close to the tunnel there is a small Ainu village, where the natives let their hair grow very long, and then tie it up in a kind of knot, similar to the Corean fas.h.i.+on of head-dress, while the women have given up tattooing altogether. The fishermen at Mas.h.i.+ke seem to suffer greatly from "_Kaki_," or rheumatism, and cancer, while consumption, malarial fever, and typhus are in a small proportion.

I had to stop over one day at Mas.h.i.+ke, for the river was swollen by the heavy rains, and it was impossible to get across. On the other side of it stood Mas.h.i.+ke-san, a huge volcanic mountain rising sheer from the sea, and forming Cape Kamuieto, under the shelter of which lies Mas.h.i.+ke village; and further south Cape Uhui projects into the sea. It is the end of a mountain range which here runs north and then south again, in the latter part forming one side of the upper basin of the Tes.h.i.+o River.

Mas.h.i.+ke is the largest settlement either on the north-east or west coast of Yezo. Its population is partly migratory, but not so wholly as is the case with the villages I had previously pa.s.sed. I was delayed still another day owing to the condition of the river; for the rain, instead of decreasing, poured down to such an extent that the stream could not be crossed, the current being too swift and the water too deep. The sea was also too rough to allow of my leaving Mas.h.i.+ke in a canoe.

On the third day I rose early, and decided to attempt this much-desired crossing of the river. It had not rained during the night, and the waters seemed to have slightly diminished. As the stream runs down a very steep incline on the slopes of Mas.h.i.+ke Mountain, the current rushes with tremendous force. It was about five in the morning when I took my baggage to the river bank. It was made up in two bundles, which I tied together firmly with a leather strap. Some of the natives who had collected round me entreated me to give up this foolish idea, for they said I should infallibly lose my life if I attempted to wade across the swollen river.

I saw at once that my pony would never be able to cross, so I left him, and, taking the baggage on my head, and pa.s.sing my hands through the strap, I went into the water. The current was indeed so strong that, weak as I was, I could hardly stand against it. I had nearly reached the middle, with the water up to my mouth, when I fancied I heard the anxious crowd scream to me, "_Abunai! abunai! abunai!_"--"Look out! look out! look out!" Startled and alarmed at this piercing cry I turned my head, and saw within a few yards of me a huge trunk of a tree coming swiftly down with the current. There was a b.u.mp, and I saw nothing more.

Half a minute later I was violently thrown on the opposite bank, and in trying to stand up on my feet in the shallow water my right foot unfortunately got jammed between two stones in the river bed; I was knocked down again, and broke my heel-bone just under the ankle. Several natives came to my rescue and I was lifted out of the water, half-stunned, half-drowned, but still holding fast to my load. I was nearly frozen, and trembling like a leaf from cold. When I tried to stand my right leg collapsed, and I had to lie down on the ground. What with the blow which I had received from the floating wood, what with the muddy water I had involuntarily swallowed, it took me some minutes before I could quite understand my situation, or what had befallen me.

When I did I felt a terrible pain in my right leg. I looked, and there, on the sand, under my foot and leg, which were swollen up to an enormous size, was a pool of blood; the broken bone had penetrated the skin, and was exposed to the air. When I recovered my senses well enough I got a man to tear the wet lining of my drenched coat, and with it and a few improvised splints I proceeded to set my own broken bone. It was hard work; but with the help of some natives I bandaged it up as well as I could, and with the extra help of a coa.r.s.e flaxen rope I made a fairly good surgical job of the whole thing.

Stopping there till I grew better would have been foolish, for winter was setting in; everything would soon be frozen and snowed up, and, far from all my friends, as well as from anything like civilised life or elementary comforts as I was, I should probably have died. As long as I had a spark of life left in me I decided that I would struggle and push on, come what might. Two men undertook to carry me over the Mas.h.i.+ke Mountain, which rises to an alt.i.tude of 3,600 feet above the sea-level.

The mountain is thickly wooded, and the trail is steep, heavy, and in many places dangerous, and when we reached a sufficient alt.i.tude the trail was merely in the bed of a rivulet composed mainly of huge stones.

Travelling in the state in which I was, was something like going to one's own funeral. The jerking and the cold were excruciating; the continuous stumbling and unsteady walk of my men over the rough and slippery slopes did not improve my condition; but finally we reached the summit. What a lovely view! One could see far along the Tes.h.i.+o coast on the one side and down towards the Is.h.i.+kari on the other, and towards the east rose up a picturesque chain of thickly-wooded mountains. Rising from the sea stood the fine Cape Airup, near Moi; then far beyond, dimly seen in the mist, was the towering outline of Shakotan. We went down the other side, and my men, poor fellows, did their best to cheer me up. One of them told me a cheering story of a grizzly bear--which, by the way, he said were numberless on this mountain--that had killed and eaten two children, and also their father when the latter went to their rescue.

The other told me of the many men who had perished in crossing the mountain; some had been overtaken by a snowstorm, others had lost their way and fallen over precipices, while others again had been killed by avalanches in winter.

Listening to this lively conversation, shaken and suffering, I arrived late at night at Moi, having been carried over a distance of twenty-five miles, to do which occupied about eighteen hours. There was no possible way of getting across the mountains between here and Atzta, as the high granitic perpendicular cliffs are unscalable, and I was bound to entrust my life to a small Ainu canoe. Two other pa.s.sengers, a j.a.panese woman and a man, asked if I would allow them to travel in the boat with me; and then we three, rowed by an Ainu man, put out to sea. The sea was rough outside, but as the large bay was well protected by the Aikap Cape, all went right at first; but in rounding the point we went too near the rocks, got caught in a breaker, and s.h.i.+pped so much water that the canoe began to slowly sink under the additional weight. The Ainu was pretty smart, and he put his skiff on the rocks. Between him and the two pa.s.sengers I was helped out, and while the Ainu emptied the canoe, the two j.a.panese undressed entirely and spread out all their clothes and underclothes in the sun to dry.

We got on board again, and, coasting more carefully, pa.s.sed several small fis.h.i.+ng villages, of which Gokibira is the largest and most important. It is backed by high mountains ranging from twelve hundred to seventeen hundred and more feet above the sea. One of the mountains--the highest--is called Okas.h.i.+-nae-yama.

Atzta is a long narrow village, of which almost all the houses are built against the cliff. From here I had to begin riding again along the bad and stony coast, among drift-wood, and up and down cliffs. Anyone who has ever had any broken bones will appreciate the tortures which I had to go through. Owing to pain, exhaustion, and fatigue I had no control over my pony, and could hardly stick on to the saddle. I took the precaution of tying the bridle to my wrist, for should the pony knock me off, he could not bolt away; but, unhappily, sometimes this was the means of his dragging me mercilessly on the ground for dozens of yards before he would stop. Then I had to wait for some charitable pa.s.ser-by to help me into the saddle again, for I could no longer mount by myself.

Day after day of this wretched life made me feel almost unconscious that I had a pain. I took things as they came, and I went on. Now that I sit here in a comfortable chair writing this by a cosy fire, I am myself astonished at my own perseverance. If I were called upon to go through the same experience now I could not. But in truth there are many things that one does not mind doing for motives of pleasure which one would never dream of attempting under the compulsion of an external will.

Kutambets is picturesquely situated in a large gully formed by a break in the red-tinted cliffs. From Kutambets to Moroi the track is slightly better, and from this to Is.h.i.+kari it is quite easy. The latter river, a very large one, has to be crossed by a ferry, as the habitations are on the south banks of the stream.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Is.h.i.+KARI KRAFTU AINU.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE KAMUIKOTAN RAPIDS.]

CHAPTER XVII.

The Is.h.i.+kari River.

On the north side of the mouth of the Is.h.i.+kari River is an Ainu village called Raishats. Its inhabitants are not natives of this island, but were imported by the j.a.panese Government from Sakhalin when it was exchanged with Russia for the Kuriles.

At the entrance of the river, and close to this village, another wreck--of the "Kamida Maru"--a schooner, ended the mournful list of disasters on this inhospitable coast.

The Ainu of Raishats are different in some ways from the Yezo Ainu proper. They call themselves Kraftu Ainu, "Kraftu"[36] being the Ainu name for Sakhalin. Their skin is of a lighter colour; but the princ.i.p.al difference is in their eyes and eyebrows. The Kraftu Ainu have eyes of the Mongolian type, though larger, while the Yezo Ainu have not; and their eyebrows have a very p.r.o.nounced curve near the nose. Most of the women seemed to suffer from consumption, and the men also did not seem as strong as the other Ainu. The women tattoo on their lips a small square pattern instead of the long moustache, and most of them have now adopted j.a.panese _kimonos_, or else wear gowns similar to those of Russian peasants. Some also wear skin gowns similar to those of the Kurilsky Ainu, ornamented with feathers and bits of molten lead sewn on them. A velvet cap or a kind of tiara is their head-gear, and this also is ornamented with gold and silver or red beads, or else is embroidered in bright colours.

[36] Sometimes also p.r.o.nounced _Krafto._

The children are arrayed in more gaudy colours than their elders. They have bright red embroideries round their necks, and the whole gown is full of spangles and beads, the proceeds of parental barter. A peculiar paunch-suspender, which I saw here for the first time, was ingenious, and answered a great want in the Ainu country. As will be seen later, the majority of Ainu children have huge paunches, mostly due to the inability of the hairy people to tie and secure properly the umbilical cord at the child's birth. This not only produces great discomfort to the child, but often causes its death. The belt which I saw was made on the principle that the weight of the paunch, under which pa.s.sed a kind of net made of strips of skin, was supported by braces going over the shoulders, and by this contrivance, if the original lesion did not get much better it did not get worse, as it does when not taken any care of at all. Neither men nor women wore earrings; but the fair s.e.x wore a kind of velvet ribbon necklace round their neck, and on this ribbon were sewn ornaments of molten lead, silver, and other metals.

The habitations, storehouses, and customs of these Ainu are similar to those of the others. As I slowly rode along the banks of the river just before sunset, retracing my steps towards the Is.h.i.+kari village, I saw a hidden trail, which apparently led to the woods. I made my pony follow it, and shortly afterwards I came to a graveyard. As I have said, the Ainu are extremely jealous of their burial-places, and they resent strangers, even j.a.panese, going near them. It was nearly fifteen days since the accident to my leg had occurred, and though I could neither walk nor stand on it, still I was beginning to be accustomed to the agony, and with great trouble and pain I could dismount from my tiny pony. Strange to say, mounting was not so difficult, for I could pull myself up with my arms, lie flat on my stomach on the saddle, and then swing round, and it did not jar me as much as coming down. I had my paint-box fastened to the saddle, and I unlashed it to take a sketch.

The tombs were so many trunks of trees cut and carved, and with one branch left on one side (_see_ Chapter XXI.). One tomb particularly was more ornamented, and it had a flat-shaped monument, roughly but well carved at its head. An object resembling the bottom of a "dug-out"

covered the body, and this was also carved. At each of the four corners a wooden blade was stuck in the ground. From the stench I should think that the body was only a few inches underground.

Fate had punished me so severely of late for faults which I never committed that I thought myself now ent.i.tled to commit a fault for the sake of squaring accounts. One of the small wooden blades, nicely carved, would just go under my coat. I decided to steal it. To my mind it was hardly a big enough crime even to balance the last accident I had had.

I turned round to see that no one was looking. I put down my paint-box, crawled to the grave, took the blade, put it under my coat, and, ashamed of myself for committing the outrage--though with prepaid punishment--I scrambled up on my pony as well I could, and hurriedly left the place. I rode back to the ferry, a long way off, and went across to Is.h.i.+kari, and catching a moment when no one was watching me, I quickly pa.s.sed the carved blade from under my coat into my baggage.

"What a good thief I would make," I thought to myself, when to my horror I remembered that in the hurry of leaving the graveyard I had forgotten my paint-box in the very same spot from which I had taken the blade!

If any Ainu had gone to the graveyard and found it, I would get into a nice mess! During the night I felt more than uncomfortable about it, and at dawn the next morning I got the tea-house man to bring my horse and set me on it, for I said, "I wish to go and see the sunrise from the other side of the river."

The landlord thought it rather funny, and funnier still when he saw me coming back a couple of hours later with a paint-box lashed to my saddle, while he said he was sure I had started without one.

"Did you not see it this morning?" said I with a.s.sumed innocence.

"No, your honourable," said he, drawing in his breath.

"You did not look for it in the right place," said I, and up to this day the landlord does not know where the right place was.

The Is.h.i.+kari is one of the great salmon rivers of Yezo. About the end of September the salmon enter the river to sp.a.w.n. They are in such abundance then that the stream is crowded thick with them, and it is quite sufficient to have a hook fastened to a stick to pull out a large fish each time it is dipped into the water. Millions of fine salmon are caught within a few days, and the banks of the river are packed with dead fish, while the whole population is occupied in splitting open each fish, taking out its inside, for preservation.

The same method of netting as is practised for sardine fis.h.i.+ng is employed for salmon. Eighteen or twenty excited men vigorously row the boats out into mid-stream, and after describing a semicircle, return to the bank. The nets are hauled in, the fish flung out on the river banks, and the same process begins _de novo_. A man in a "dug-out" watches when the salmon are more or less plentiful, and signals for the boat to start, while he himself spears them with a harpoon. At the right time of the year as many as 1500 or 2,000 and more good fish are caught each time the net is hauled in. This grand take of course only lasts a few days.

Though good, the Yezo salmon has none of the fine qualities of the salmon of northern European rivers, and it is not quite so good as that of the Canadian rivers. It does not keep so well, and in colour is much lighter than our salmon.

The Is.h.i.+kari River opens to the north, and runs parallel to the coast, leaving a flat tongue of sand between it and the sea. Following the course of the stream against the current, it goes winding south, then sharply turns to the south-east, following this direction for about fourteen miles. Then again it winds up to the north, and then to the east for a distance of over one hundred miles, where its source lies in the very heart of Yezo.

The Is.h.i.+kari carries a large body of water, and it is nine hundred and twenty feet wide near its mouth. Its "drainage area" has been estimated to be over three thousand square miles, including mountain slopes, while the actual valley does not, in my opinion, exceed eight hundred square miles. The river receives many affluents, of which the most important are the Rubes.h.i.+be, Chupets, Piegawa, the Sorachi River, and the Toyohira on its south side, and the Uriugawa on its north side. Near the coast the valley is wooded mainly with scrub oak, but further inland its banks are heavily timbered. The Sorachi River is the most important affluent on the south side. It is navigable for "dug-outs" and small sailing boats for some considerable distance. At Sorachi one strikes the new road which leads from the Poronai coal mines to Kamikawa, where the site has been chosen for the intended new capital of Hokkaido.

The road between Sorachi and the latter place not being metalled, was exceedingly bad owing to the heavy rains, and my pony continually sank in mud up to his belly. The road follows the course of the Is.h.i.+kari River more or less; and in the woods is a military settlement like those we have seen near Nemuro and Akkes.h.i.+. At Otoyebukets the traveller must change horses. About eight miles further on one reaches the Kamuikotan rapids, a poetic spot: huge rocks in the water, violently rus.h.i.+ng between and over them, form pretty waterfalls. The Ainu occasionally shoot down these rapids in their "dug-outs," and remains of these are to be seen here and there smashed on the rocks. From this point the road rises almost all the way, and the wayfarer must cross over the hill range, from the top of which the whole plain of Kamikawa can be seen, in the upper basin of the Is.h.i.+kari, which, winding like a silver snake, intersects the flat valley.

Descending the hill on the other side, I reached the future capital of Hokkaido. It is indeed a town of the future, for at the present moment there are only five houses, if I may call them so. The site of this embryo metropolis is by the Chubets River; and on the hill called Nayosami I was told a palace for the Emperor is to be erected. However, they were not certain about it yet. It is a pretty hill, almost in the centre of the large plain, and from the top of it one gets a lovely view of a volcanic cone standing in front of you to the south. Near this hill the new road turns sharply almost at a right angle, and two miles further some _Tondens_ have been begun (_Ciuta Hombu_). Hundreds of convicts, who, by the way, have made the road between here and Poronai, were at work continuing the same road towards the east. I believe that eventually it will be prolonged to the north-east coast, where it will end near Abas.h.i.+ri. In my opinion the scheme practically will be a failure, for Kamikawa will never be a flouris.h.i.+ng place, as there is nothing to support a large population. From a strategic point of view of course Kamikawa has the advantage of being in the centre of Yezo.

Kamikawa is 342 feet above the level of the sea, but it is well sheltered, and the climate, though very cold, is not quite so severe as in other parts of Yezo.

The Ainu of the upper Is.h.i.+kari are nearly the same as the Saru Ainu, only somewhat taller and more ill-tempered. They show greater skill than other Ainu in wood-carving and general ornamentation. Along the banks of the river huts are scattered here and there; but the largest number is at Chubets.

At the present moment the j.a.panese population of Kamikawa is, with the exception of half-a-dozen policemen and as many civilians, composed entirely of convicts. These are dressed in red coats and trousers, and those who have committed murder have the top of their head shaved in the shape of a bottle (j.a.p., _Hetzui_). If any misbehave, they are beaten with the flat side of the long sword worn by the policeman in charge; but I must confess that otherwise the policemen are extremely kind in every way to these fellows. The well-behaved have one, two, or three small pieces of black cloth sewn to their left sleeve. They are made to work hard, but save this enforced diligence they seem to have a pretty good time. As I was talking to a policeman in charge, two dead men were brought on a cart by a man who had a towel over his mouth and a red blanket over his head. The two men had died suddenly. They had arrived only a few days previously from Southern j.a.pan, where cholera was raging, and they had all the symptoms of having died of that deadly disease.

A very exciting way of retracing your steps down to the Sorachi River is to shoot the rapids in an Ainu "dug-out." You make one or two Ainu moderately drunk, as otherwise they do not seem anxious to attempt it, and when they are in that pot-valiant condition you get them to paddle your canoe down the stream, while you sit in the bottom holding on to the sides. You start with the velocity of a turtle, increase it to that of a horse, then to that of a swallow, and when you are well in the rapids it is like travelling on an arrow. You go rubbing against rocks, and are shot in the air when going over a small waterfall, only to fall with a splash in the water some yards further, with an increase of velocity as you go on. It really requires but little skill to navigate rapids, for it is the current itself that does all the work. All that is needed is to keep the "dug-out" straight in the water. Of course if you should happen to collide with a rock when you are going at nearly double the rate of an express train you would have little chance of saving your life; but if you are neither smashed nor drowned, and you do not come to grief in any way, you can accomplish the journey, which takes you the whole day by land, in little over one hour when there is plenty of water in the stream.

On the road from Sorachi to Poronai, and halfway between the villages of Naye and Takigawa, a new coal mine has been discovered and opened, which is said to be very rich in mineral of good quality; in fact, superior to the coal of Poronai. It is ten miles from Otaussi Nai village, where the high road has to be abandoned if the mine is to be visited.

There are many Ainu both at Takikawa-Mura (Waterfall-River village), at Otaussi, and at Poronai-buts. Poronai has in its neighbourhood some rich coal mines. As others have reported more accurately and correctly than I can on the quality and extent of these coal seams, I shall abstain from repeating or copying what has been already said. I may, however, mention that the seams cut the valley of the Ikusum River eight miles from Poronai-buts, and a continuation of them is found near the springs of the Sorachi. The coal beds of Poronai are about three and a half feet deep, and many different beds have been found deeper than these, but of inferior quality. Poronai also goes by the name of Is.h.i.+kis.h.i.+ri, and a large penitentiary has been erected here for the accommodation of the numerous convicts exported from the Main Island to improve the scheme for the colonisation of Yezo. I was called on by the chief _yakunin_ (officer), and he expressed a wish that I should inspect the prisons. A splendid horse was sent to convey me thither, and two policemen helped me on my progress through the buildings, owing to my inability to walk more than a few yards at a time. It was a large walled enclosure, with houses for the officials and cells for the _akambos_, a jocular term, meaning "babies," which is applied to convicts, because they wear red clothes like children. The buildings were beautifully clean, but what astonished me most was that no precaution whatever was adopted to prevent convicts from escaping. The outside gates were all wide open; there were neither soldiers nor policemen at the gates, and, moreover, the _concierge_ was himself a convict!

"But," said I, "do not many of these fellows escape?"

"Oh, no, not many. Last month only sixteen ran away," was the _insouciant_ answer of my guide.

From Poronai-buts to Sappro there is a small railway, by which the coal trains are run to the coast as far as Otaru.

[Ill.u.s.tration: WOMAN OF Is.h.i.+KARI RIVER.]