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[Illustration: THE AINU GROUP (AT TOKIO).]
THE
AINU GROUP
At the Saint Louis Exposition
BY
FREDERICK STARR
CHICAGO
The Open Court Publishing Company
1904
COPYRIGHT BY
THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING CO.
1904.
This book is dedicated
to
W J MCGEE,
Who made my Ainu trip possible,
and to
JOHN BATCHELOR,
Who made it a success.
PREFACE
This book does not pretend to be a study of the Ainu. It is a simple
narrative of my journey in Yezo and a description of the group of
Ainu that I brought to this country. It is true that I sketch some
features of Ainu life and suggest some questions regarding this
peculiarly interesting people. Readers who wish fuller information
will find much in Rev. John Batchelor’s books.
THE AINU GROUP
The most characteristic feature of the St. Louis Exposition is life,
action. To a greater degree than in any preceding Exposition the
buildings are full of action—machinery is in motion, artisans are
at work, things are being done. This characteristic is found in the
Department of Anthropology as well as in those of Machinery and the
Liberal Arts. While it is true that it presents cases filled with
objects, diagrams, maps, pictures, models, the usual dead material of
Ethnographical and Archæological Museums, it is also true that it has
lavished its main effort upon the outdoor Ethnological Exhibit, where
representatives of upwards of thirty living tribes are to be seen in
native dress, living in houses of their own construction, cooking and
eating the food to which they are accustomed at home, and practising
those simple arts and industries, which they have, themselves,
developed. Among these many groups, from North and South America,
from Africa and Asia, is a little group of the Ainu from Northern
Japan, a people who are, for many reasons, of exceptional interest.
In August of 1903, I was approached with the proposition that
I should go to Japan to secure this group and bring it to this
country. The plans for the expedition were finally completed in
January of 1904, and on the 14th of that month I left St. Louis with
one companion, my young Mexican photographer, Manuel Gonzales. Our
journey to Yokohama was uneventful. We reached there on February
9th and went up to Tokio on the 10th, where a stop of several days
was necessary for making preparations, seeing Japanese officials,
securing letters, etc. It was on the night of the day of our arrival
there, that the Japanese declaration of war against Russia was made.
Not the most favorable hour for asking aid, in a purely scientific
enterprise of no public or political character, from busy officials!
But, through this period of stress and preparation, of despatching
troops and moving war equipment, we were never disturbed or delayed
in our mission; those officials, whom we were obliged to meet,
received us with the same courtesy and attended to our requests with
the same care and promptness, as if it were a time of complete peace.
We were profoundly impressed by the business-like and energetic
way in which all was done and by the deep feeling, though calm
and quiet, among the people. Japan has gone into this war through
necessity; she did all in her power to avoid hostilities. But, in
going into the war, she expects to win. This expectation is no idle
exhibition of over-confidence. She fully realizes the enormous
advantages Russia has in size, in numbers, and in resources; but,
she expects, nevertheless, to gain the victory, for she feels that
it is a question of life and death. The struggle is no new one;
nor is it unforeseen. For more than a century, Japanese patriotic
writers have urged their nation to prepare herself to resist the
aggressions of her powerful neighbor; in 1791 Toshiakira made “a plea
for the development of Yezo, in view of Russian aggression.” In 1801
Yamada Ren made “a passionate appeal for colonizing Yezo and thus
forestalling the designs of Russia....”
The Ainu are not rovers. It is certainly a rare thing for members
of the race to leave their home. They have aroused interest for two
thousand years. The Chinese Annals tell of four _mao jin_, “hairy
men,” who were ship-wrecked on the Chinese coast in the year 310 A.
D. In 650 A. D. some of them accompanied a Japanese Embassy to China.
So far as we know, none have since left Japan until this group was
brought to this country in 1904. It is true that they sometimes form
one of the attractions in Japanese circuses and, in 1903, a group of
them was shown at the Osaka Exposition, where they attracted a great
deal of attention and were so sadly spoiled and corrupted, that we
were specially warned against having anything to do with any of the
group.
During our stay at Tokio, we visited the Imperial University, where
we found the Department of Anthropology well organized, with Prof.
Tsuboi at its head. It should be better housed than it is, but it
occupies two entire buildings, one of which is used for recitation
rooms, reading room and laboratory and the other as a Museum, in
which Japan and her dependencies are chiefly represented. Here we saw
extensive collections illustrating the archæology of Japan—which like
the rest of the world has had a Stone Age—and the ethnography of the
Ainu and the populations of the Loo Choo Islands, the Bonin Islands,
and Formosa. We were most interested in the Ainu collections, which
are varied and represent arts and industries, weapons, tools, dress,
ornament, etc. Were we not about to see all these in actual life
in Ainu homes, we should speak of them in detail. Probably the
largest collection of Ainu skeletal material in the world is in the
University Laboratory; it has been carefully studied and described by
a Japanese, Koganei.
When on Monday, February 15th, we were ready to start northward
things looked squally. It was reported that communication was
interrupted. Four Russian gunboats, from Vladivostock, had attacked
and sunk a merchant vessel at the Straits of Tsugaru. We were
advised to wait in Tokio until the announcement of resumption of
communication should be made. Time, however, was precious. We
determined to go on to Aomori as if nothing had occurred, and, if
we actually found no steamer about to sail, to make our way overland
to the northernmost village on the Hondo, and thence, hiring a
fishing-boat and hoisting an American flag, to cross to the nearest
point of the Island of Yezo. Our railroad journey to Aomori was a
matter of some twenty hours. We left Tokio with no snow anywhere
in sight, save on Fuji’s summit; when we looked out in the early
morning of the next day, we were in the midst of winter. Snow covered
the whole landscape, not fresh-fallen snow, but a sheet that had
already been there for weeks and months. Aomori itself is a quaint
fishing-town and port. Snow lay five or six feet deep in the middle
of the street. Shops and houses are built close together, and have
a continuous passageway or corridor before them. One may walk,
outside, in the middle of the road, on the elevated snow-way, or
inside, on the ground level, under shelter of the corridor. Here
and there, narrow ways, with steps, cut in the snow permit passage
up and down from one to the other way. The markets are interesting,
particularly the fish-markets; not only does one see there fishes of
ordinary kinds, both large and small, but flatfish, such as soles and
skates, cuttle-fishes, both whole and cut into pieces, shell-fish
in great variety, and sea-squirts or tunicates, some of brilliant
colors. Had we space, we could describe the lacquer which is made
here, the New Year offerings to the gods, the boys flying kites
with humming bows attached, but all these have naught to do with the
Ainu. A little to our satisfaction, for it would have been a hard
trip over the snow to Omazaki, we found communication restored and
were able to board our little steamer at nine o’clock and go to bed,
although we did not sail until early in the morning. For fear of
mines and hostile vessels, lying in wait, the run across the Straits
of Tsugaru was made in darkness and slowly. When we rose in the
morning, we were coasting along the coast of Yezo. There was snow
over the landscape but less than we expected, after our glimpse of
Aomori. The country was hilly; at times, mountainous; there was but
little breadth of beach, and often the mountains rose abruptly from
the sea-line. Here and there were little clusters of houses near
the seashore. It was bitterly cold and a piercing wind was blowing.
At 9.30 in the morning, we were in Hakodate Harbor, after passing
through a narrow and tortuous channel. The town, with a population
of perhaps 70,000, stretches along a coast line, presenting an arc
of almost two-thirds of a circle, and rises upon the lower slopes of
a great mountain mass, which rises finely in the background and is
fortified. We anchored in the Harbor and would have gone on shore,
if we could have learned that we were to lie there several hours.
There are Ainu settlements on the outskirts of the city, a Museum
of Ainu objects, and a mission station (including a school for
Ainu boys), which we would have been glad to see. At 3.30 in the
afternoon, we started. We could not find out when we were likely to
reach Muroran, being absolutely without an interpreter, and so went
to bed at nine o’clock, thinking ourselves entitled to the night’s
rest. But at eleven, we were routed from our beds by the steward
and found ourselves standing in the Bay of Muroran. The runner from
the Maruichi Hotel, to which we had a letter from our Aomori host,
took us in charge and loaded us and ours into a rowed scow. It was
bitterly cold, a heavy wind was blowing, and snow filled the air. We
were only lighted by paper lanterns, as, to the songs of the rowers,
we crossed the stretch of tossing waters to the shore. Our pretty
room at the Maruichi, our midnight supper, our first Japanese bed,
and our charcoal fire, were a pleasant contrast.
The morning was fine, fresh, and cold, with alternations of blue
sky and snow-filled air. Muroran has a pretty bay, almost circular,
land-locked, with many rock islets dotting it. The town itself is
small and mean, stretching in two or three long streets at different
levels, along the shore. There are Ainu towns at no great distance
and we hoped to catch our first glimpse of Ainu here but were
disappointed. We strolled through the town buying some photographs
of Ainu and some of the giant fanshells or pectens, which are the
characteristic souvenir of Muroran. In all parts of Japan, except
the island of Yezo, each town of any consequence has its especial
product, natural or artificial, for which it is famous. Japanese,
who visit such towns always carry home, for themselves and their
friends, samples of these. Thus Sendai has a black fossil wood from
which all sorts of trays, boxes, spoons, teacup-holders, etc., are
cut; Aomori has its especial mottled lacquer; and Morioka has lovely
iron teapots. But Yezo is peculiar; it is crude and new, a pioneer
district of new towns settled by immigrants from every part of Japan.
Most of its towns have no _meibutsu_ or specialty. Muroran, however,
has as its _meibutsu_, the giant fanshells.
[Illustration: VIEW OF MURORAN HARBOR.]
[Illustration: GIANT PECTEN: MURORAN.]
At 12.40, we took train for Sapporo, the capital of the Hokkaido, or
governmental district of which the island of Yezo, forms a part. And,
now that we were actually nearing the centre from which we were to
operate, our plan of procedure became a question of importance. As we
rode on, in the train, we turned it over and over. There was one man
in Yezo who could help us if he chose, the Rev. John Batchelor. Our
first plan was to find him, he lives at Sapporo, and to enlist his
interest and sympathy if possible. If we could do that, all would
be well. If he would not assist, then we should have to depend upon
the help of a paternal government. We had a letter from the Tokio
government to Baron Sonoda, the Governor of the Hokkaido. He would do
what he could. We would have to call upon him anyway and submit our
plan to him. If Mr. Batchelor should be favorable we should trouble
the Governor but little; otherwise, we should have to ask him to back
us so strongly that the poor Ainu would feel that they must go to St.
Louis, _willy nilly_.
We had gone about three-fourths of the journey when, at Iwamizawa
Junction, we saw a white man, slender, long-bearded, with fur cap,
boots and long cape-coat, waiting, with his wife, on the platform, to
board the train. They entered the car next to us, where he left lady
and luggage, and then again stepped out upon the station platform,
where he walked up and down. He seemed to know every guard and
employe at the station and talked with all in Japanese. Seeing us, he
casually spoke to us. Having answered his question, I said to him, “I
believe you are the man for whom I am looking and the one man who can
help me in my enterprise. I suspect you are the Rev. John Batchelor?”
My surmise was quite right, but Mr. Batchelor, being an Englishman,
is socially cautious, and at once became quite reticent. Before we
reached Sapporo, we had laid the case fully before him and he was
evidently interested. He was, however, non-committal and desired me
to see the Governor before he should promise his assistance. We were
not more than half convinced that we should win his favor, but, two
days later, after he had thought the matter over and Baron Sonoda
had given us his endorsement, Mr. Batchelor cast in his lot with us
most heartily and all was then plain sailing. Indeed there were _no_
difficulties; things were disappointingly easy—because, after all,
we enjoy some hardship and opposition! Japanese boys are taught that
they should be like the carp and swim _against_ the stream; it is
good for them. But we had no chance to be like carp.
[Illustration: MEDAL OF AINU TEMPERANCE SOCIETY.]
The Rev. John Batchelor came to Yezo in 1879, a young man of
twenty-four years. He has lived here ever since—more than half his
lifetime. A clergyman of the Church of England and a missionary of
the Church Missionary Society, he labors among both Japanese and
Ainu, but considers himself particularly called to be the Apostle
to the Ainu. He knows this people as no other stranger, Japanese
or “foreigner,” does. He has visited their villages in all parts
of the island; he speaks their language more perfectly than their
own young people do; he has studied their life, and thought, and
fancies. He is their friend and adviser in need and trouble. While
his converts among them may number nine hundred, his acquaintance
and influence extends to thousands. He has actually lived for years
in their villages, especially Piratori and Horobets. He has written
a Dictionary and a Grammar of the Ainu language and has translated
the Psalms, the New Testament, several Bible narratives, etc., into
it; he is the author of the two best books upon their life and
thought—_The Ainu of Japan_ and _The Ainu and Their Folk-lore_. In
mission work, he is wise. He feels that mere number of confirmations
counts for little and has often refused to confirm applicants, rather
than run risk of bringing contempt upon the name of church member. He
works to improve and to elevate; not, to “kill the Ainu that is in
you.” Recognizing the fearful ravages caused among this simple people
by drink, he has organized and labors to sustain an Ainu temperance
society. He supports what he calls a “rest-house,” built on his
premises at Sapporo, where any Ainu who is sick or troubled can come
and stay until cured or assisted. Sometimes as many as twenty are
housed there. They are supplied foodstuffs, which they prepare for
themselves. While they stay, they are expected, if able, not only to
do their own work but to help in the garden, or at the woodpile, or
about the house.
It was at Mr. Batchelor’s home that we saw our first Ainu. His
driver, Parapita, is a fine type. With his long grayish hair, his
great gray beard, his kindly expression, his graceful salutations,
his neat and simple dress, his ready service, the old man greatly
pleased us. Another patriarch, working at the woodpile, was venerable
and typical, but was mentally a little unsound; he was but a visitor
at the rest-house. Two young men, Yazo and Goro, we shall know better
bye and bye. All of the Ainu women at the house had long, black, wavy
hair hanging down upon their shoulders and bore the great blue-green
tattoo around the lips. This tattoo is quite unlike what I had
imagined from descriptions and colored photographs. Instead of being
a dull, rather dark, blue, it is a light blue-green, or green-blue,
which is vividly fresh, even when it has been on the face for years.
So true is this, that Manuel asked at once, on seeing it, whether
it was freshly applied paint or something more permanent. The girls
and women have pleasant, broad, open faces, and the abundant hair,
hanging loosely down at the sides onto the shoulders, sets them off
well. They are modest in their manner and, often, bashful. It is a
common trick, especially in certain villages, for an Ainu girl, when
bashful in the presence of strangers, to hang her head and shake it
so that the hair falls over the whole face like a veil. But, for all
this modest concealment, their handsome dark eyes are watching from
beneath the sheet of hair and seeing all that goes on outside.
Mr. Fujimura, the Hokkaido government’s Fishery Expert, who speaks
excellent English, took us to see the Museum of the district. It is
fairly good in the Zoology and Geology of the Hokkaido. The upper
floor is devoted mainly to Ethnography and, naturally, most of the
specimens are from the Ainu. The collection is not so large nor so
complete as it should be, nor is it particularly well arranged.
There are examples of the mattings, the bark cloth, articles of
dress, ornaments, weapons, and implements, of Ainu of several
villages. There is a series of wooden war-clubs, apparently of
recent manufacture, from near Muroran, which shows a considerable
variety in form. These clubs are now rarely found in the villages
and originals cannot be easily secured. An entire case is devoted
to the cups, tubs, moustache sticks, implements, and _inao_ used in
the bear-feast, but they merely suggest what _might_ be done in the
making of such a display. One of the most interesting objects in the
Ainu collection is a grave-post from the Island of Saghalien, quite
different in its form and carved decoration from those made by the
Yezo Ainu. It is made from the forking trunk of a small tree and a
considerable part of the available surface is covered with carved,
apparently geometric, designs. The old man who conducts visitors
through the Museum is little likely to permit anyone to escape,
without seeing a great, stuffed, brown bear, which killed and ate
three persons. Parts of one of the victims, a little baby, taken from
its stomach, are preserved in a bottle of alcohol.
[Illustration: CARVED GRAVEPOST: ISLAND OF SAGHALIEN.]
We started out on Monday, February 22, legal holiday at home, for
our hasty trip through the Ainu villages of the Saru River district,
to secure our group of Ainu. We had already decided to take Yazo
(Ozara Fukotaro) and his wife, Shirake from Mr. Batchelor’s house.
As already familiar with white people and their customs, we felt
that they would be a good influence in keeping others satisfied.
Yazo has lived with Mr. Batchelor since he was fourteen years old,
now a matter of ten years. He is industrious and progressive and has
a little farm, some horses, etc. While we were gone, he went out
to his village to make arrangements for the care of his place and
property, while he should be away. His wife, Shirake, is a pretty and
attractive girl of eighteen years, timid and modest.
[Illustration: SHIRAKE.]
We went on the railroad, back toward Muroran, leaving the train at
Tomakomai, about midway between Sapporo and Muroran. Mr. Batchelor
had telegraphed ahead and a _basha_ was waiting for us at the
station. A _basha_ is a queer, little, four-wheeled, covered cart,
drawn by two of the small and shaggy Japanese horses. A cross-seat
in front serves for the driver, and two lengthwise seats within
are for passengers, who enter the vehicle from behind by a single,
central, iron step. The _basha_ is expected to carry six passengers,
three on each seat, and the fare is charged for six, whether there is
a single person or a full load. By the time we three were in, with
our lunch basket, camera, luggage, etc., it would have been difficult
for others to have found a place. Though it was chilly, the snow was
thawing and before we had gone far, we really had no snow at all.
From the station, we struck straight for the sea, riding over a low,
flat, country, chiefly grass-grown, though with trees here and there.
As we neared the coast, the road became actually sandy. From the
open end of the _basha_, behind us, we had fine views of the pretty
volcano Tarumai. The air was clear and the graceful, white-covered,
mountain stood sharply against the sky. A great deal of vapor was
escaping from it and the constant changes in the form and size of the
white clouds of it, that hung at the crater until blown away, were
curious to watch. When we reached the sea we turned abruptly to the
left, losing the volcano view, and rode in long straight stretches,
parallel to the coast, behind and below the line of low dunes. We
passed, now and again, little groups of fishing huts and miniature
_torii_, gateways to wee Shinto shrines. We reached Yubutsu, where
we dismounted and walked along the sandy coast to stretch our legs
and warm our bodies. When, after changing horses, the _basha_
came along again, we remounted. At Azuma we spent the night in a
Japanese inn, where Mr. Batchelor has a European room and a stove.
His lunch-basket pieced out our supper, as it did all our subsequent
meals, in a marvellous way. Azuma was full of soldiers as “the
reserves” were being called out and this was a local gathering place.
[Illustration: GROUP OF AINU GRAVES.]
When we started in the morning, the wind was cold and we walked a
little to start the circulation. For some time after we entered the
_basha_, our road continued over a plain covered with dry yellow
grass, with oak trees, scattered or in clumps, here and there.
Little or no snow lay on the ground. The general impression of the
winter landscape was dreary and desolate. At Mukawa, we changed
horses and _basha_, and found ourselves nearing the line of hills,
which we had long seen ahead. At Sarabuto, where we first reached
the Saru River, we turned left, leaving the sea and the low country
and striking straight for the hills. We soon passed near the Ainu
village of Shumunkot, and close by the side of the road saw a place
where five Ainu had been buried. Such burial places are usually in
out-of-the-way spots, and are neglected and avoided. There were no
graves raised over the dead and the area was overgrown with brush.
That there were three men, one woman and one girl, was shown by the
stakes marking the graves. These were small trunks or large branches
of trees with the bark left on. For a man’s grave, the upper end of
the stake is cut to a spear-point or paddle-tip; for a woman’s, the
upper end is rounded and pierced so as to present a loop or a half
ring. The grave-stake for a child is smaller than that of an adult.
[Illustration: STAKE AT GRAVE OF FEMALE AINU.]
Here we were again near an Ainu town, Nina, and from here on we
were in a forest, frequently on uneven or rolling land, and in the
midst of actual winter, with plenty of snow all around us. Presently
we came to a considerable Ainu town, Lower Piratori, so called
because lower on the Saru River than Upper Piratori. It is well
characterized, typical of the Saru River villages. A single street
runs through the place; the houses lie in one long line on the east
of this street, while the storehouses, set high up, each on four
posts, to keep the contents out of reach of animals, are to the west
of it. We paid particular attention to the orientation of the houses,
because Hitchcock thinks that it is a matter of no consequence. At
Lower Piratori, and at all the other Ainu towns we visited, the house
is placed east and west; at the east end is the sacred window; the
main doorway, at the western end, is generally not visible, being
sheltered by a little approach, shelter or shed, known as the _shem_,
the doorway in which opens south. In this _shem_ the millet mortar
and pestle, agricultural implements, etc., are stored. The east
window and the west doorway are often the only openings from the
rectangular, single-roomed house, but there may be a south door and
also a south window. The Ainu house is rectangular; the ridgepole
runs lengthwise and the roof is two-pitched. The framework of the
house consists of tree-trunk uprights and pole cross-pieces, all
lashed together with cords or strips of bark; the walls are of rushes
and mattings and the roof is a heavy thatch. In building the house
the roof is first constructed and then lifted and placed upon the
corner posts.
[Illustration: AINU VILLAGE: OSATNAI.]
In the centre of the room is the open fireplace—a rectangular
space, marked out with boards set on edge. There is no chimney for
the escape of smoke. The floor may be covered with mats, which are
made by the women. The different members of the household have their
individual places in the house. The east end of the fireplace is
honorable and when a guest arrives to whom great respect is due,
a box is set in this place of honor, a fine mat with decorative
patterns woven into it is folded and laid upon it, and he is invited
to sit down. The sleeping places along the walls are sometimes
separated from each other by suspended mats. The inside wall is often
hung with mats, partly as a decoration and finish and partly to cut
off draughts. Over the fireplace hangs a kettle in which food is
boiled; it is suspended by a wooden pothook, which has an ingenious,
though simple, mode of adjustment whereby it can be lowered or
raised. In the northeast corner of the house are the “treasures,”
varying of course with the householder. There are great tubs for
saké, cylindrical vessels with lids; they measure a foot or two in
height by about a foot across, are of Japanese manufacture and are
usually black lacquer with gilding. They were presented long ago to
the ancestors, maybe by Japanese officials, and are prized heirlooms.
There are also lacquer saké cups or bowls, of various sizes and
shapes, but also Japanese gifts and heirlooms. On the wall are hung
sword-sheaths with hilts in place; generally there are no blades
within, whether because these have been disposed of, or because the
Japanese givers thought best not to supply the enemy real weapons, we
do not know. All these cups and tubs and swords make a great show,
although they are all heavy with the accumulated smoke and dirt
of years. Beside these treasures of Japanese origin one sees also
objects of native workmanship—knife sheaths (with and without knives)
and wooden quivers, some of which contain arrows, even old arrows
with the famous poison on them.
[Illustration: STOREHOUSES: OSATNAI.]
Outside, to the east of the sacred window and at a little distance,
is the _nusa_, or “sacred hedge,” a line or group of willow sticks
set in the ground, from the upper ends of which hang curls of
shavings, usually shaved from the sticks themselves. Such shaved
sticks, called _inao_, play an important part in the life and
religion of the Ainu. The _nusa_ is sacred and strangers should not
meddle with it or with single _inao_, nor pass between the _nusa_ and
the east window. Nor ought people to look in through the east window
or throw things out from the house through it. _Inao_ are also used
inside the house. The one of chief importance stands in the very
northeast corner of the house and ought never to be removed from its
place. Even shaving curls, cut completely from their stick have their
value and are tied to, wrapped about, or laid upon, articles in the
treasure corner. _Inao_ are also set up by the springs of water, by
the storehouses, and even near the outhouses or places of relief. In
all these cases, they serve as guardians or charms with magic power.
[Illustration: TREASURES HUNG IN NORTHEAST CORNER OF HOUSE.]
We did not tarry long at Lower Piratori, but continued our journey
to Upper Piratori, which is close by. In fact, formerly, there was
a continuous village but a migration of the middle part of the town
has left the extremes separated and now they bear distinct names.
The little Japanese inn is in the centre of Upper Piratori and we
were soon comfortably installed. Piratori is, of all Ainu towns,
the best known to the outside world and many travelers—Miss Bird,
Landor, Fincke,—have described it and pictured its chief, old Penri.
The old man died in December last. When Mr. Batchelor first came to
Piratori, years ago, he lived in Penri’s house, having the southeast
corner partitioned off for his use. Here he began to study the
language and to collect the materials for his dictionary. The old
house still stands, though now occupied by a Japanese family, and we
photographed it, with Mr. Batchelor near the south doorway, in memory
of old times. At the time of his death, Penri lived in another house,
which we visited. The widow, on seeing us began to weep, in token of
her bereavement; this she would be expected to do, on first seeing
a friend after her husband’s death, even if a much longer time had
passed after the event. Somewhat to our surprise she let us take
away an _inao_ placed at the west door in connection with the funeral
and mourning.
[Illustration: NUSA: NEPTANI.]
At a neighboring house we were greatly impressed by the dignified
appearance of two men seated at the fireplace, father and son. The
older, a brother of Penri, had long gray hair and beard; the younger,
was of somewhat stouter build and had abundant long black hair and a
full black beard. As we entered, and the old man saw who we were, he
rose without a word, found his crown and placed it on his head; both
then proceeded to salute us. We had already seen something of these
strange and dignified greetings, but this was our first experience
of the thing at home. They sat for some time slowly rubbing their
hands together, back and forth, the palms being vertical; after
doing this, they separated the hands outward to the sides, palms
upward, and then raised and lowered them two or three times, as if
balancing or weighing something, each time raising them higher and
nearer to the beard; finally they brought the hands to the beard and
stroked it from the sides. There are then, really three parts to this
salutation, after the performance of which the conversation began.
[Illustration: PENRI’S OLD HOUSE: UPPER PIRATORI.]
These crowns worn ceremoniously by the men are really interesting;
they consist of a foundation band of cloth or woven work that fits
around the head. To this, in front, there is a bear’s head carved in
wood; this is replaced sometimes, as at Shiraoi, by bear claws;
sometimes the carved head of an eagle or a hawk replaces the bear’s
head. From the band of the crown hang several—often six—little
square flaps of cloth. These are the “hair” of the crown which also
has a “body” and “bones.” A. Henry Savage-Landor, often unreliable,
calls these strange head-dresses “regal crowns.” Of course there is
nothing “regal” about them. They are worn at joyful festivals or on
other pleasant occasions,—such as our visit!—and may be worn only by
_well-to-do_ and _good_ men.
Among Ainu the woman is regarded as an inferior and generally she
acquiesces pleasantly enough in the assumption. At festivals, the men
sit in a line in front, near the drinking cups; the women sit behind
and receive what their lords please to give them after they have had
what they want. The woman usually wears a band of cloth around her
head. On meeting a man, in greeting him, she respectfully removes
this and hangs it upon her left arm; she then draws her right hand
over her upper lip, from the left to the right; she may then pat
the hair at the sides of her head, with her hands. The movement of
drawing her hand across her lip is common when she has received a
favor and seems to be an expression of thanks and pleasure.
[Illustration: AINU GROUP: FEAST OCCASION.]
We had planned to photograph during the afternoon but it snowed
heavily—as it did every afternoon, while we were in the villages—so
we visited from house to house and then waited at the inn, for
those who, at Mr. Batchelor’s suggestion, brought in wares and
treasures for sale. As these articles were everywhere practically
the same, we may as well describe them once for all in connection
with Piratori. For a long time back, as shown by old pictures, the
Ainu dress has been much like that of their Japanese neighbors.
There are, however, some articles of dress that are truly Ainu and
even when Japanese stuffs and patterns are used the decoration may
be characteristic. The women make a coarse, brown, thread, from
elm-bark fibre, which is called _attus_. This they weave, using a
simple loom, into a strong and durable cloth, which, however, becomes
brittle if too dry. This may be woven solidly in the natural color,
or stripes of blue, (black or white,) threads may be woven into
it. From such cloth, single piece garments, much like the Japanese
_kimono_, with short sleeves tapering at the end, are made for both
men and women; there is little, if any real, difference in form in
those for the two sexes and both are folded and held in position, by
a band at the waist, in the same way. Upon these garments, whether
made of _attus_ cloth or of Japanese cottons, the women embroider
elaborate patterns in colored threads. On the whole the garments for
men are more ornamented than those for women. The patterns are said
to differ somewhat from district to district. The designs consist
of curious combinations of straight lines and graceful curves. In
their irregular forms and symmetrical arrangements, one would hardly
think that original animal designs might be hidden. There is no
question, however, that some of these apparently meaningless, simply
fanciful, designs are conventionalizations of the bear’s head and
it is possible that all of them might, by careful study, be traced
back to some such origin. Both men and women wear leggings wrapped
about the leg from the knee down, which are made of _attus_, or of
Japanese blue stuffs, and are often decorated with the curved-line
embroideries. Around the neck, women wear a closely-fitting, narrow
band of velvet, with a little flap at the middle; upon this flap,
which hangs in front when the band is adjusted, is a round piece of
silver or german silver upon which an ornamental design is engraved.
Both sexes wear earrings, but the old men seem particularly fond of
great hoop-earrings, two inches or more across, which are sometimes
of silver but more likely of some cheaper material. Women delight in
necklaces and often carry several pounds of large beads around the
neck; these beads are rarely of bright glass, being generally of dull
colors and of some porcelanous material. We had supposed these beads
to be of Japanese origin but are told that most of them came from
Manchuria. In any event, the heavy strings of beads are, generally,
heirlooms and it is probably a long time since new supplies of them
have been sold or exchanged to the Ainu. Frequently, square-pierced
“cash” are strung in with the beads and a disk or other pendant of
metal hangs from the necklace. While the woman is often content with
any cloth to tie around her head, she sometimes weaves a special
head-band of decorative character.
[Illustration: WOMAN’S DRESS OF ELM-BARK CLOTH, EARRINGS, AND
NECKLACE.]
[Illustration: MAN’S CEREMONIAL DRESS.[1]]
Ainu babies, like Japanese, are often carried on the backs of older
children, who are themselves little more than babies. The modes of
carrying are, however, quite different. The Japanese baby is bound in
place and the loose over-garment of the little nurse is then put on
so as to cover both baby and carrier; the Ainu baby, sometimes seated
on a little stick, is carried by means of a carry-strap, _tara_, very
like those in use among American Indians, which passes across the
forehead of the bearer. Not only babies, but all sorts of burdens
are carried with the _tara_.
[Illustration: JAPANESE AND AINU CHILDREN CARRYING BABIES.]
The face tattoo of Ainu women has already been mentioned. It is
begun in childhood, a small round spot being made at the middle of
the upper lip. It is not done by pricking with points as Japanese
tattooing is, but by cutting with a knife. Soot from the bottom
of the kettle is rubbed into the cut lines and a decoction of ash
bark is washed on to fix the color, which, as already stated, is a
blue-green. The tattooing is gradually developed, until, when the
girl is ready for marriage, the whole, great, moustache-like mark
is fully done. It completely surrounds the mouth, covering both
the upper and lower lip, and even extends onto the mucous membrane
surface. The hands and the arms to the elbows are also tattooed with
a system of rings, dots, zigzags, etc., which appear to be largely
individual.
In the Ainu house, furniture in our sense of the word is largely
lacking. Mattings are used for wall-hangings, carpeting, seats and
beds. In the _shem_ are the mortar and pestle for pounding millet.
The mortar is hollowed out from a section of a tree trunk; the pestle
is heavy, with a head at each end. Women do the pounding, often
two of them working together, dealing alternate blows, and singing
wordless songs to give time to the blows. There is a variety of bowls
and platters, trays, stirrers, ladles, and spoons, cut from wood,
some plain and some decorated with ornamental carved designs. Also
cut from wood, are pounders, pothooks, suspended cradles, sticks for
the baby to sit on when carried, troughs for feeding bears from,
and the different parts of the simple loom. There are two kinds of
native devices for lighting—a torch consisting of a cleft-stick with
a folded bit of birch-bark stuck into the cleft and a lamp made of
a pecten shell, as a receiver for oil, set up on a crotched stick.
The shell of the pecten also makes a good scoop for dipping out the
dinner from the common pot—we have the one that old Parapita used
to use at home—and at Shiraoi, we found the great shell lashed to a
stick handle, for use as a ladle. Trays and bowls, scoops and ladles
are also neatly made from pieces of bark. Agricultural implements are
crude. A bent stick serves as a grub or hoe, while poor spades may
be cut from wood. A long and narrow fresh-water mussel shell is the
sickle with which grain is cut, only the head being removed, while
the whole length of the straw remains standing in the field.
[Illustration: WOMEN POUNDING MILLET.]
Left to themselves, the Ainu would prefer to remain hunters and
fishermen. Their mountains abounded in deer and bears and the waters
of Yezo swarmed with salmon and other fish. The Ainu had devised a
series of ingenious traps and weapons. To-day they have guns, but
bows are also somewhat used, though poisoned arrows are a thing of
the past—thanks to Japanese laws. The Ainu bow is a single, simple,
stick of yew; the bowstring is a cord of bark fibre. The poisoned
arrow was an ingenious affair. The foundation of the poison was
aconite secured from the corm of the plant; to this various other
ingredients were added. Not everyone knew how to compound the poison
and to-day the knowledge is possessed by few. The point of the arrow
was rather large and broad and was hollowed out on one side; a wad of
the poison was pressed into this hollow and then set in place with
gum. The Ainu hunter, besides his bows and arrows, spears and clubs,
had his hunting knife and knew well how to use it in close encounters
with bears. He still uses it and always carries it, sheathed in an
elaborately carved wooden case, upon his person.
At Upper Piratori is the “shrine of Yoshitsune.” This famous Japanese
hero of the 12th century, according to a doubtful tradition, escaped
his pursuing enemies and sought refuge in Yezo, where he was greatly
respected by the Ainu, among whom he lived the remainder of his
life. Upon the height behind the upper end of the village, there
is a little shrine, which contains an ugly figure of a Japanese
warrior, said to be Yoshitsune. Miss Bird describes the “worship” of
this figure by the Ainu. The shrine and the figure are both purely
Japanese. Who put them where they are, or when, or why, we cannot
say. If the figure is respected by the Ainu of the village, it has
had but little influence on their religious thought. It is aught
except “the great god of the mountain Ainu.” If we had had more time
or if it had been summer, we would have visited it. As it was we
cared more to look at Ainu _inao_ and _nusa_.
Miss Bryant, an Australian lady, lives at Upper Piratori as the local
missionary of the C. M. S. She speaks Ainu and has a household of
Ainu girls. She was good enough to invite us in the evening to take
coffee and delicious cakes. She showed us some embroideries her girls
had made in colored silks on cottons. The materials are Japanese
and she supplies these to the girls. The designs are left to them.
The stitching is well done and is as neat and even as machine work;
it is hard to think that the better pieces were done by hand. Mrs.
Batchelor, at Sapporo, also allows the Ainu girls in her house to do
such needlework. From the sale of such pieces to travelers the girls
gain a little money for themselves.
[Illustration: ON THE MARCH, CROSSING THE SARU.]
We had thought to pursue our further journey with sleds, but these
failed to appear and we started off on foot. As carriers of our
luggage we hired a married couple, of whom the woman appeared to
be far the better man. At all events, she took the heavier _kore_
(basket-trunk) and started off the more gaily. Both used the _tara_,
or carry-strap passing across the forehead, in carrying their loads.
We at once crossed the Saru River on the ice. It is here a broad
stream, flowing between low terraces, back of which rise fine
hills. We tramped steadily through a forest, over a somewhat rolling
country, and at the end of an hour found ourselves at Neptani. Here
we saw our first evidence of a bear-feast. To the east of one house
was a _nusa_, upon the middle _inao_ of which was fastened a bear’s
head with the ears and skin yet on. Between the house and the _nusa_
was a post, with a tuft of green at the top, to which the bear
had been tied, and we could see, below the east window, the newly
repaired wall, showing where the old one had been broken down at the
time of the celebration. We saw plenty of similar trophy _nusas_
and other evidences of bear feasts later, but nowhere were we so
fortunate as to find the feast in progress—nor did we anywhere see
living bears in the villages. There were cages everywhere but all the
bears had been killed.
As the bear feast is the most important Ainu ceremonial and one of
the strangest customs of this strange people, we will describe it
from the observations of others.
[Illustration: BEAR’S CAGE AND FEEDING TROUGH.]
[Illustration: ARROW USED IN BEAR-FEAST.]