Though we were far from the centre of the city and had been quiet
in our movements, the presence of the Ainu in the city and their
location were announced in one of the papers. The result was that
Tuperek appeared. And who was Tuperek? Old Sangyea’s son. We had
never heard of him before and it was a long time since his father
had heard from him. He had seen the newspaper notice and called
and had an affecting interview. He is shrewd and knows something
of white men as well as of Japanese. He is employed upon one of
the “yellow journals” of Tokio. For some time he lived with Mr.
Batchelor and, perhaps under his influence, has been stimulated to
write a book of Ainu stories, which he plans to publish. He is a
well-grown, strongly-built fellow of perhaps thirty years; he dresses
in Japanese costume and shaves, but the heavy stubble on his face
and the straight eyes are Ainu. The night before the party left for
Yokohama he called upon us with his father; he begged to be taken to
the Exposition; as they sat upon the floor before us, they wept as
they pleaded. We ventured various objections, for all of which he had
an answer. There was no time to get his passport and other documents;
he would secure them and come along upon the next boat. He could not
get into America, without us; oh, yes! he was connected with the
Salvation Army, it could easily arrange that matter. As for his
appearance, he knew that it was against him but he still had an Ainu
costume and his beard would soon grow!
[Illustration: AINU IN CEREMONIAL DRESS: SHIRAOI.]
In the morning, we took the party to Yokohama, leaving them with Mr.
Inagaki, to see the company’s doctor and the wharf doctor, to be
inspected, bathed and fumigated and to secure their certificates for
embarkation; a full day was none too much. As for us, between tickets
and baggage, arranging for the shipment of the house and household
stuff, and a hundred other things, we were kept swinging between
Tokio and Yokohama. But at last all was done and on the morning of
March 18, our whole party were aboard the Empress of Japan, upon
which a little separate steerage had been rigged up for the Ainu
where we believed they would be happier and more secluded than in the
common steerage. On the voyage all were seasick except the two older
men and the two babies. They probably suffered keenly. At all events,
we are told that the words they use in describing their sufferings
are of the most emphatic.
On the night of the 28th of March, we had the usual entertainment in
the cabin. There were many Japanese passengers upon the list and,
besides the usual music and recitations, we were favored with some
Japanese sleight-of-hand performances, and an instrumental solo on
a strange Japanese wind instrument. The proceeds of the sale of
souvenir programs were to be given to the Japanese fund for wounded
soldiers. As evidence of their appreciation of this act, the Japanese
at the close of the program distributed souvenirs to all the other
passengers,— a pretty fan, a bit of silk, a piece of lacquer. We were
invited to contribute a part to the program by bringing in the Ainu
and making an address about them. The address was well received but
gave occasion to a little sparring. We did not see the program until
it was printed and then found that we were announced to present a
“short description of the Aino, followed by an Aino bear-dance by
three of the tribe on board.” Our people were in ceremonial dress
and made a fine appearance. We described the physical type, the
tattooing, the dress and the salutations, after which Sangyea and
Kutoroge gave a _yukara_ and we made some remarks about the problem
of Ainu origin and relationship.
Had we seen the program, we should not have permitted the word
_Aino_ to appear upon it; nor should we have allowed announcement
of a “bear-dance” of which we never heard. It is true that there is
dancing at bear-feasts but that is different from having a dance that
is called a bear-dance. As to the name of our people it is not Aino,
but _Ainu_, which is a word in their own language meaning man. The
Ainu are “men”—i. e. _the_ men. It is a common thing for people in a
certain stage of culture to name themselves in this way. The Eskimo
call themselves _innuit_, “man”; the Moki Indians of Arizona, call
themselves _hopi_, “men”; and the Delaware Indians called themselves
_Lenni Lenape_, “men of men.” The word Aino is neither an Ainu nor
a Japanese word; it approaches the Japanese word _ino_, “dog,” and
there is no doubt that this similarity shades the word when used by
the Japanese, to whom the Ainu often are as “dogs” and who have a
legend that the Ainu are really the offspring of a woman and a dog.
From the Ainu point of view the word Aino is a reproach and they
resent it. While it occurs in many books, there is already ample
authority in practice for using the proper form Ainu, which should
absolutely supplant the other. The matter is of sufficient importance
to have called for government ruling and in official documents Ainu
is to-day _de rigeur_. In calling attention to this matter, we
inadvertently offended both English and Japanese passengers, who had
worded the program.
The _yukara_ are curious and interesting but are rarely, if ever,
mentioned in the books. They are ancient war-songs and we only knew
that a manuscript collection of them exists in the library at Mito.
On inquiring of our men, we learned that they knew many _yukara_, so
one day upon the voyage we went down to hear our first one. Kutoroge
was singer; Sangyea beat the time. They seated themselves side by
side upon the floor. Kutoroge began to sing in a low voice; single
words were long drawn out and interrupted with curious throat
gurglings; the singing of a single line of words was a matter of time
and great apparent effort. Sangyea struck one stick against another,
and from time to time gave a cry as if to excite the other’s courage.
Kutoroge grew louder and the encouragement was more frequent and
pronounced, until both were wrought up to a considerable pitch of
excitement.
It was after sunset, on March 29th, that we sighted land. The line
of hills was but dimly visible in the low hanging evening haze.
Our people were all below but we called them to the deck. It took
a moment for the first-comers to recognize what we were showing
them, but then their cries, not at all loud, brought up the others
promptly. Sangyea first and then Kutoroge ceremoniously seated
themselves facing the shore and in silence rubbed their hands, waved
them, and stroked their beards, in thanksgiving and worship. Having
made this usual salutation, they raised their hands into the air with
the palms toward the land line and though we could not hear their
voices, we believe they prayed.
At daylight we were plowing through the waters of the Sound. From
Victoria a few hours brought us to Vancouver, where everything
amused and interested our people. Inspected by one physician at
Victoria, by another at Vancouver, and by a third in the office of
the United States Immigration Bureau on the Vancouver dock, they
must have wondered what it all meant. We are sure _we_ did and we do
not hesitate to say that of all foolish pretense at science these
inspections deserve the premium. We refrain from detailing their
method, but will only say that each of the three pursued a different
procedure and that the third one examined only the eyes. They were
all three personally polite and kind, but the whole thing is a farce.
The immigration officers, among whom we found a friend, Colonel
Albert Whyte, were most polite and put us to as little trouble and
delay as possible. After our immigration certificates were issued
we waited some little time for the Doctor and as the people were
extremely tired they seated themselves in the office. Little Kiko was
hungry and Shutratek, like a good mother, was doing her natural duty
by the baby. The Secretary of the Japanese Consul had come in to see
the Ainu; he was all smiles and friendliness until he saw Shutratek
and the baby. His rebuke was vigorous and probably the poor woman was
warned against future public care of her baby. The Japanese are all
fearful lest we shall make the error of thinking that the Ainu are
their ancestors or that we shall suppose the Japanese culture has
come out from Ainu! This sensitiveness we have seen on many occasions.
[Illustration: SHUTRATEK.]
We were obliged to spend two nights in Vancouver. The first night we
left the people on the steamer, taking them on shore, however, for a
walk in the early evening. Many things interested them, but nothing
more than a stuffed elk in a corner window. Kutoroge looked at it
from every point of view, then heaved a sigh and asked where such
were found alive. We gestured expansively that they lived in all the
country around. He shook his head expressively and said he’d like to
hunt such deer as that.
In the morning all were removed to one of the Japanese hotels, after
which we went down to pass the United States Customs Inspection. The
great horses that we met, so unlike the little stocky animals of
Japan, were an unfailing delight to the men, who wanted to examine
them and caress them but were afraid of them, scared at their least
movement. When we had passed the Customs, the morning was quite gone
and Mr. Mayo, the Inspector, invited the whole party to the dog show
in the afternoon. It was really a good show and certainly a thing the
Ainu had never dreamed of. On the whole they were greatly pleased,
but Shirake, frightened at the movement of so many animals and the
noise of so much barking, burst into tears and cried as if her heart
would break. After the dog show we sent them out to Stanley Park,
that magnificent bit of a primeval forest set apart for a people’s
playground, with Manuel and Mr. Inagaki. Near evening we went after
them and found them a picture of content. The women and children
were sitting and playing on the grass, while the men were swinging,
with childish delight. They had been greatly pleased with the living
animals in the cages; we tried to convince Kutoroge that the grizzly
bear was, as the books say, the same as he knows in Japan, but he
insisted that the Yezo bears were different from any of those here in
captivity.
[Illustration: MANUEL AND KIKO: SALUTATION OF THANKS.]
We had been invited to be guests of the local Japanese mission,
conducted by Mr. Kaburagi, who was educated in the United States.
Both he and his wife speak excellent English. The gathering took
place in the mission rooms in the evening. Among the half-dozen
whites who were guests were Prof. Odlum and Colonel and Mrs. Whyte.
Prof. Odlum is the President of the local scientific and historical
society and has been in Yezo. Years before A. Henry Savage Landor
made his journey around the island, of which he makes such boast
in his sadly inaccurate “Alone with the Hairy Ainu,” Prof. Odlum
had gone over the same ground in much saner fashion. It was a great
pleasure to him to again see Ainu, the people with whose homes he
had once been familiar and into whose language he had made some
translations. The room in which we were gathered was suited to a
gathering, perhaps of two hundred persons; if so, there must have
been three hundred present, mostly young Japanese men. The leader
is a natural orator and a man of energy. A definite program had
been arranged between him and Mr. Inagaki. Yazo spoke of Ainu
agriculture, Goro of dress and ornament and tattooing, Kutoroge
told of the bear-hunt. Prof. Odlum was called upon and briefly
expressed his sympathy with Japan in her war and referred to his
own experiences in Yezo. I then spoke in English of Ainu life and
customs, having Kin and Kiko show salutation, thanks, and petition,
which captured the audience, and the old men gave a _yukara_. This
trick of Kin and Kiko is one which Manuel discovered and has a bit
developed. On shipboard, when we carried lumps of sugar or fruits
or cakes down to the children, as we did every afternoon, we
insisted on their standing to receive them. On seeing the gift, the
little hand was raised and the finger drawn across the upper lip,
then the two hands were crossed one on the other, palms up, just in
front of the body, when the gift was laid upon them. It was very
pretty, particularly when done by little Kiko. Rarely have we seen
such general interest and close attention as this crowd of young
Japanese gave throughout our little entertainment. At its close they
showered gifts upon the Ainu. The men each received a dollar; each
woman received cloth for a dress; the children were given toys and
bonbons. To the party collectively was given a great box of cakes.
The plan had been to give Japanese cakes, as those to which they
were accustomed, but the crafty creatures had expressed a preference
for American cakes! Loaded down with gifts and completely tired—a
Customs House Inspection, a Dog Show, a Park Picnic, and an Evening
Entertainment all in one day!—they went home.
Of course, we everywhere attracted crowds. In Japan these crowds
were never troublesome. In Vancouver fifty persons would gather
immediately on our stopping on the streets, but it was the best
behaved street crowd we have ever seen in a city of white people. In
Seattle it was less tolerant, but only once was anything absolutely
unpleasant said. In Saint Louis there was more rudeness, but nowhere
was there so much as we had dreaded. From Seattle to Saint Louis,
at almost every station passed during the daytime, people crowded to
see the Ainu and asked their questions and made their comments but
all good-naturedly. Several adventures with drunken men upon the car
took place, but these poor fellows were usually bubbling over with
goodwill and were only troublesome in their well-meant advances of
kindliness. Both at stations and in the cars meetings with Indians
took place and it was curious to see the mutual close inspection.
On the whole the Ainu took the inspection well and sometimes
reciprocated fully. At Fort Sheridan, Wyoming, negro soldiers were at
the station. Kutoroge was greatly excited and examined them closely.
He finally asked us whether the color was temporary or permanent, and
then wanted to know whether it was generally distributed over the
body or confined to the face and hands.
At Seattle, on account of a bad arrangement of trains we had almost
twenty-four hours to wait. Here the men were much interested in
the totem-pole set up in the city and inquired about its use and
the Indians, who made it. We rode over one of the great inclined
cable-lines; they were a little timid and quiet on the way up, but
when we came coursing down, their joy was great. Kutoroge and Goro,
in particular, clapped their hands like children, jumped up and down
and shouted with delight.
We were hours late in reaching Saint Louis. Mr. Hulbert was at the
station waiting for our arrival and at once secured a great coach to
take us in state to the Exposition grounds, where we arrived at four
o’clock in the afternoon of April 6th, the group being temporarily
located in the Government Indian School building. We were pressed
for time; work began at the University on the 1st of April and we
must reach Chicago as soon as possible. So we told the Ainu that our
time for separation had come and wished them happiness. Kutoroge
hastily ransacked the luggage and drew out a wooden tray with carved
decoration, which he presented us on behalf of the party as a token
of their affection. All followed us to the door and stood upon the
topmost step; tears filled their eyes and all were sobbing; they
rubbed their hands and waved them in the air and the old men stroked
their beards. When almost out of sight we turned and saw them all
standing as before, weeping and waving their partings.
Upon my tray are carved designs, graceful curves, fillings of
criss-cross lines. The Ainu is a great carver of wooden articles and
all he carves he decorates. Trays, cigarette holders, knife-handles,
tobacco-boxes, pipe-holders, moustache-sticks, sheaths for knives and
swords, spoons—all of these are decorated with good designs. Only
one student has, so far, made a serious study of Ainu art, Dr. H.
Schurtz, of Bremen, Germany. In a complete study one must investigate
not only the designs cut in wood, but also the patterns embroidered
on dress and the figures tattooed upon the arms and hands of women.
Almost all the Ainu patterns are highly conventionalized and many of
them are derived from original animal representations. On the whole
Ainu art appears to be notably independent and characteristic.
Some Italian anthropologists use the terms _centripetal_ and
_centrifugal_ in regard to races. A centripetal people is one
whose customary movements are toward the person of the actor, not
away from him. Dr. McGee was particularly interested in securing a
group of Ainu, because they have the reputation of being distinctly
centripetal, perhaps the most so of any people. We had hoped to find
strong evidence of this character, but cannot claim to have been
very successful. It is true that the salutations are of that kind:
the hand-wavings and beard-strokings are not expansive, outward
movements, but toward the person. The knife in cutting is frequently,
perhaps generally, drawn toward the cutter. These were the only
centripetal facts which we observed. The method of singing the
_yukara_, as already described, is very peculiar; possibly it will
come into this category. Landor, whom we rarely care to quote, says
something in this direction, which may be sound: “More interesting
to me than their physical characters, were their movements and
attitudes, which I was able to study and note correctly without their
observation. For instance, when Ainu try to move some heavy body they
pull it toward them; thus, when they drag their dugouts and canoes
on shore, and again when they launch them, they never push from them
but pull toward them. If an Ainu has to break a stick planted in the
ground he does it by pulling it; whereas a Japanese will push it.
Again in pulling a rope the Ainu pull; the Japanese push, by placing
the rope over one shoulder and walking in the direction wanted. In a
crowd, where a Japanese would push his way through by extending his
arms and thus separating people, the Ainu seizes a man on each side,
pulling one to the right and the other to the left, till space for
him to pass is made.” Now, if these are correct observations and we
are inclined to accept them as such, they illustrate the centripetal
nature of the Ainu and the centrifugal nature of the Japanese.
The physical characters of the Ainu and the Japanese differ
profoundly. The Ainu present a peculiar and strongly marked type. On
the whole they are short; Batchelor gives 5 ft. 4 in. as the average
stature for men and 5 ft. 1½ in. or 5 ft. 2 in. as the average for
women. It is true, however, that stature varies considerably with
locality—the men of Shiraoi being relatively tall and well built,
those of Piratori medium, and those of Ishikari smaller and badly
developed. The Ainu skin, though dark, is white, not yellow or
brown; the color appears darker than it really is because the Ainu
rarely bathe. The hair is abundant both on the body and the head, and
is wavy; the color is commonly black, though it may be dark-brown or
even reddish; like wavy hair everywhere, it presents an elliptical,
not a circular, cross-section. The beard in males is strong and
abundant. The features are those of the white race rather than the
yellow; the nose is prominent and well formed, the mouth is strong;
the lips firm. The eyes are brown, sometimes even light brown. Mark
these characters well; compare them with those of the Japanese. How
profound the difference. The white skin, abundant body hair and
beard, the hair wavy and of elliptical section, the horizontal eye
full of expression and fire, the features combined into a strong
relief—these are in strong contrast to the yellow-brown skin,
hairless face and body, straight and round hair, oblique eyes and
flat face of the Japanese. In all these respects in which the Ainu
differs so profoundly from the Japanese, he resembles us, the whites
of European race.
They are often called “the hairy Ainu” and we consider the term just.
It is true that their proximity to the smooth-bodied yellow Asiatics
has made their hairiness conspicuous by contrast. It is true that
many writers, who have spoken of “fur” and “missing links,” have
overstated facts; but it is also true that notably hairy bodies are
the rule among the males. Individual Russians are no doubt common,
who are as hairy as the average Ainu, but we believe firmly that
taken _en masse_ the Ainu are more hairy than the Russians, and
probably the hairiest people on the globe. Of course, the Ghiliaks,
living on the Asiatic mainland and undoubtedly related with them,
present the same peculiarity. Hitchcock gives a lot of excellent data
in regard to Ainu hairiness.
As different are the Japanese and Ainu in language. Years ago,
Basil Hall Chamberlain drew up a detailed comparison between the
two, pointing out fifteen points of difference, and he might have
extended the list indefinitely. Nor are the differences he indicates
of trifling significance. On the contrary they are vital and concern
the most important constructional matters. Thus, in the Ainu, verbs
have true passive forms like those of European languages, the
Japanese in its most earnest effort to express a passive cannot get
rid of an active viewpoint; the Ainu has many reflective verbs, the
Japanese has none; “Ainu pronouns are used at every turn like the
pronouns of modern European languages,” Japanese has no real and
simple pronouns; in Ainu “honorifics” are lacking, in Japanese they
abound. Mr. Batchelor’s little _Grammar of the Ainu Language_ is
interesting reading, even if it does not convince the reader that
Ainu is an “Aryan language.” Years ago the Japanese government of
the Hokkaido published Mr. Batchelor’s _A Dictionary of the Ainu_,
now long out of print. During the time that has since elapsed he had
added enormously to the work and his present manuscript represents
the labor of a quarter of a century. It is now complete and ought to
be printed without delay. As long as it remains in manuscript it is
in danger; once lost, it could never be replaced, even by the author,
for the use of Ainu as a speech is passing.
Who are the Ainu? Where did they come from? What is their past? They
are surely a white people, not a yellow. They are more our brothers,
though they live so far away, than brothers of the Japanese, to whom,
in place, they are so near. That is not to say that all men are not
brothers; our meaning we think clear. We, white men, are fond of
assuming an air of great superiority, when we speak of other peoples.
We take it for granted that all white men are better than any red
ones, or black ones, or yellow ones. Yet here we find a _white race
that has struggled and lost_! It has proved inferior in life’s battle
to the more active, energetic, progressive, yellow people, with which
it has come in contact. It may be that the Ainu are but a little
fragment of a once widespread Asiatic white race. The Ghiliaks, the
Mao-tse (“hairy”) of China, some small populations of southeastern
Asia and the curious non-aggressive Todas of India with their great
beards and strange customs, may be other fragments of that same
old population. We cannot assert it; study and comparison will be
necessary before the assertion would be warranted; but we believe
such comparison may prove what we suggest. Should it do so, that
old white race was broken and submerged by a great flood of active
yellow Asiatics, who pressed eastward from their old home, perhaps in
Mesopotamia.
[Illustration: HOUSE IN DEMOLITION: SHIRAOI.]