But crowding crops more closely in the field not only requires

higher feeding to bring greater returns, but also relatively greater

care, closer watchfulness in a hundred ways and a patience far

beyond American measure; and so, before the crowding of the crops in

the field and along with it, there came to these very old farmers a

crowding of the grey matter in the brain with the evolution of

effective texture. This is shown in his fields which crowd the

landscape. It is seen in the crops which crowd his fields. You see

it in the old man's face, Fig. 18, standing opposite his compeer,

Prince Ching, Fig. 19, each clad in winter dress which is the

embodiment of conversation, retaining the fires of the body for its

own needs, to release the growth on mountain sides for other uses.

And when one realizes how, nearly to the extreme limits,

conservation along all important lines is being practiced as an

inherited instinct, there need be no surprise when one reflects that

the two men, one as feeder and the other as leader, are standing in

the fore of a body of four hundred millions of people who have

marched as a nation through perhaps forty centuries, and who now, in

the light and great promise of unfolding science have their faces

set toward a still more hopeful and longer future.

On February 21st the Tosa Maru left Yokohama for Kobe at schedule

time on the tick of the watch, as she had done from Seattle. All

Japanese steamers appear to be moved with the promptness of a

railway train. On reaching Kobe we transferred to the Yamaguchi Maru

which sailed the following morning, to shorten the time of reaching

Shanghai. This left but an afternoon for a trip into the country

between Kobe and Osaka, where we found, if possible, even higher and

more intensive culture practices than on the Tokyo plain, there

being less land not carrying a winter crop. And Fig. 20 shows how

closely the crops crowd the houses and shops. Here were very many

cement lined cisterns or sheltered reservoirs for collecting manures

and preparing fertilizers and the appearance of both soil and crops

showed in a marked manner to what advantage. We passed a garden of

nearly an acre entirely devoted to English violets just coming into

full bloom. They were grown in long parallel east and west beds

about three feet wide. On the north edge of each bed was erected a

rice-straw screen four feet high which inclined to the south,

overhanging the bed at an angle of some thirty-five degrees, thus

forming a sort of bake-oven tent which reflected the sun, broke the

force of the wind and checked the loss of heat absorbed by the soil.

The voyage from Kobe to Moji was made between 10 in the morning,

February 24th, and 5 .30 P. M. of February 25th over a quiet sea

with an enjoyable ride. Being fogbound during the night gave us the

whole of Japan's beautiful Inland Sea, enchanting beyond measure, in

all its near and distant beauty but which no pen, no brush, no

camera may attempt. Only the eye can convey. Before reaching harbor

the tide had been rising and the strait separating Honshu from

Kyushu island was running like a mighty swirling river between Moji

and Shimonoseki, dangerous to attempt in the dark, so we waited

until morning.

There was cargo to take on board and the steamer must coal. No

sooner had the anchor dropped and the steamer swung into the current

than lighters came alongside with out-going freight. The small,

strong, agile Japanese stevedores had this task completed by 8:30 P.

M. and when we returned to the deck after supper another scene was

on. The cargo lighters had gone and four large barges bearing 250

tons of coal had taken their places on opposite sides of the

steamer, each illuminated with buckets of blazing coal or by burning

conical heaps on the surface. From the bottom of these pits in the

darkness the illumination suggested huge decapitated ant heaps in

the wildest frenzy, for the coal seemed covered and there was hurry

in every direction. Men and women, boys and girls, bending to their

tasks, were filling shallow saucer-shaped baskets with coal and

stacking them eight to ten high in a semi-circle, like coin for

delivery. Rising out of these pits sixteen feet up the side of the

steamer and along her deck to the chutes leading to her bunkers were

what seemed four endless human chains, in service the prototype of

our modern conveyors, but here each link animated by its own power.

Up these conveyors the loaded buckets passed, one following another

at the rate of 40 to 60 per minute, to return empty by the

descending line, and over the four chains one hundred tons per hour,

for 250 tons of coal passed to the bunkers in two and a half hours.

Both men and women stood in the line and at the upper turn of one of

these, emptying the buckets down the chute, was a mother with her

two-year-old child in the sling on back, where it rocked and swayed

to and fro, happy the entire time. It was often necessary for the

mother to adjust her baby in the sling whenever it was leaning

uncomfortably too far to one side or the other, but she did it

skillfully, always with a shrug of the shoulders, for both hands

were full. The mother looked strong, was apparently accepting her

lot as a matter of course and often, with a smile, turned her face

to the child, who patted it and played with her ears and hair.

Probably her husband was doing his part in a more strenuous place in

the chain and neither had time to be troubled with affinities for it

was 10:30 P. M. when the baskets stopped, and somewhere no doubt

there was a home to be reached and perhaps supper to get. Shall we

be able, when our numbers have vastly increased, to permit all

needful earnings to be acquired in a better way?

We left Moji in the early morning and late in the evening of the

same day entered the beautiful harbor of Nagasaki, all on board

waiting until morning for a launch to go ashore. We were to sail

again at noon so available time for observation was short and we set

out in a ricksha at once for our first near view of terraced

gardening on the steep hillsides in Japan. In reaching them and in

returning our course led through streets paved with long, thick and

narrow stone blocks, having deep open gutters on one or both sides

close along the houses, into which waste water was emptied and

through which the storm waters found their way to the sea. Few of

these streets were more than twelve feet wide and close watching,

with much dodging, was required to make way through them. Here, too,

the night soil of the city was being removed in closed receptacles

on the shoulders of men, on the backs of horses and cattle and on

carts drawn by either. Other men and women were hurrying along with

baskets of vegetables well illustrated in Fig. 21, some with fresh

cabbage, others with high stacks of crisp lettuce, some with

monstrous white radishes or turnips, others with bundles of onions,

all coming down from the terraced gardens to the markets. We passed

loads of green bamboo poles just cut, three inches in diameter at

the butt and twenty feet long, drawn on carts. Both men and women

were carrying young children and older ones were playing and singing

in the street. Very many old women, some feeble looking, moved,

loaded, through the throng. Homely little dogs, an occasional lean

cat, and hens and roosters scurried across the street from one low

market or store to another. Back of the rows of small stores and

shops fronting on the clean narrow streets were the dwellings whose

exits seemed to open through the stores, few or no open courts of

any size separating them from the market or shop. The opportunity

which the oriental housewife may have in the choice of vegetables on

going to the market, and the attractive manner of displaying such

products in Japan, are seen in Fig. 22.

We finally reached one of the terraced hillsides which rise five

hundred to a thousand feet above the harbor with sides so steep that

garden areas have a width of seldom more than twenty to thirty feet

and often less, while the front of each terrace may be a stone wall,

sometimes twelve feet high, often more than six, four and five feet

being the most common height. One of these hillside slopes is seen

in Fig. 23. These terraced gardens are both short and narrow and

most of them bounded by stone walls on three sides, suggesting house

foundations, the two end walls sloping down the hill from the height

of the back terrace, dropping to the ground level in front, these

forming foot-paths leading up the slope occasionally with one, two

or three steps in places.

Each terrace sloped slightly down the hill at a small angle and had

a low ridge along the front. Around its entire border a narrow drain

or furrow was arranged to collect surface water and direct it to

drainage channels or into a catch basin where it might be put back

on the garden or be used in preparing liquid fertilizer. At one

corner of many of these small terraced gardens were cement lined

pits, used both as catch basins for water and as receptacles for

liquid manure or as places in which to prepare compost. Far up the

steep paths, too, along either side, we saw many piles of stable

manure awaiting application, all of which had been brought up the

slopes in backets on bamboo poles, carried on the shoulders of men

and women.

II

GRAVE LANDS OF CHINA

The launch had returned the passengers to the steamer at 11:30; the

captain was on the bridge; prompt to the minute at the call "Hoist

away" the signal went below and the Yamaguchi's whistle filled the

harbor and over-flowed the hills. The cable wound in, and at twelve,

noon, we were leaving Nagasaki, now a city of 153,000 and the

western doorway of a nation of fifty-one millions of people but of

little importance before the sixteenth century when it became the

chief mart of Portuguese trade. We were to pass the Koreans on our

right and enter the portals of a third nation of four hundred

millions. We had left a country which had added eighty-five millions

to its population in one hundred years and which still has twenty

acres for each man, woman and child, to pass through one which has

but one and a half acres per capita, and were going to another whose

allotment of acres, good and bad, is less than 2.4. We had gone from

practices by which three generations had exhausted strong virgin

fields, and were coming to others still fertile after thirty

centuries of cropping. On January 30th we crossed the head waters of

the Mississippi-Missouri, four thousand miles from its mouth, and on

March 1st were in the mouth of the Yangtse river whose waters are

gathered from a basin in which dwell two hundred millions of people.

The Yamaguchi reached Woosung in the night and anchored to await

morning and tide before ascending the Hwangpoo, believed by some

geographers to be the middle of three earlier delta arms of the

Yangtse kiang, the southern entering the sea at Hangchow 120 miles

further south, the third being the present stream. As we wound

through this great delta plain toward Shanghai, the city of foreign

concessions to all nationalities, the first striking feature was the

"graves of the fathers", of "the ancestors". At first the numerous

grass-covered hillocks dotting the plain seemed to be stacks of

grain or straw; then came the query whether they might not be huge

compost heaps awaiting distribution in the fields, but as the river

brought us nearer to them we seemed to be moving through a land of

ancient mound builders and Fig. 24 shows, in its upper section,

their appearance as seen in the distance.

As the journey led on among the fields, so large were the mounds,

often ten to twelve feet high and twenty or more feet at the base;

so grass-covered and apparently neglected; so numerous and so

irregularly scattered, without apparent regard for fields, that when

we were told these were graves we could not give credence to the

statement, but before the city was reached we saw places where, by

the shifting of the channel, the river had cut into some of these

mounds, exposing brick vaults, some so low as to be under water part

of the time, and we wonder if the fact does not also record a slow

subsidence of the delta plain under the ever increasing load of

river silt.

A closer view of these graves in the same delta plain is given in

the lower section of Fig. 24, where they are seen in the midst of

fields and to occupy not only large areas of valuable land but to be

much in the way of agricultural operations. A still closer view of

other groups, with a farm village in the background, is shown in the

middle section of the same illustration, and here it is better seen

how large is the space occupied by them. On the right in the same

view may be seen a line of six graves surmounting a common lower

base which is a type of the larger and higher ones so suggestive of

buildings seen in the horizon of the upper section.

Everywhere we went in China, about all of the very old and large

cities, the proportion of grave land to cultivated fields is very

large. In the vicinity of Canton Christian college, on Honam island,

more than fifty per cent of the land was given over to graves and in

many places they were so close that one could step from one to

another. They are on the higher and dryer lands, the cultivated

areas occupying ravines and the lower levels to which water may be

more easily applied and which are the most productive. Hilly lands

not so readily cultivated, and especially if within reach of cities,

are largely so used, as seen in Fig. 25, where the graves are marked

by excavated shelves rather than by mounds, as on the plains. These

grave lands are not altogether unproductive for they are generally

overgrown with herbage of one or another kind and used as pastures

for geese, sheep, goats and cattle, and it is not at all uncommon,

when riding along a canal, to see a huge water buffalo projected

against the sky from the summit of one of the largest and highest

grave mounds within reach. If the herbage is not fed off by animals

it is usually cut for feed, for fuel, for green manure or for use in

the production of compost to enrich the soil.

Caskets may be placed directly upon the surface of a field, encased

in brick vaults with tile roofs, forming such clusters as was seen

on the bank of the Grand Canal in Chekiang province, represented in

the lower section of Fig. 26, or they may stand singly in the midst

of a garden, as in the upper section of the same figure; in a rice

paddy entirely surrounded by water parts of the year, and indeed in

almost any unexpected place. In Shanghai in 1898, 2,763 exposed

coffined corpses were removed outside the International Settlement

or buried by the authorities.

Further north, in the Shantung province, where the dry season is

more prolonged and where a severe drought had made grass short, the

grave lands had become nearly naked soil, as seen in Fig. 27 where a

Shantung farmer had just dug a temporary well to irrigate his little

field of barley. Within the range of the camera, as held to take

this view, more than forty grave mounds besides the seven near by,

are near enough to be fixed on the negative and be discernible under

a glass, indicating what extensive areas of land, in the aggregate,

are given over to graves.

Still further north, in Chihli, a like story is told in, if

possible, more emphatic manner and fully vouched for in the next

illustration, Fig. 28, which shows a typical family group, to be

observed in so many places between Taku and Tientsin and beyond

toward Peking. As we entered the mouth of the Pei-ho for Tientsin,

far away to the vanishing horizon there stretched an almost naked

plain except for the vast numbers of these "graves of the fathers",

so strange, so naked, so regular in form and so numerous that more

than an hour of our journey had passed before we realized that they

were graves and that the country here was perhaps more densely

peopled with the dead than with the living. In so many places there

was the huge father grave, often capped with what in the distance

suggested a chimney, and the many associated smaller ones, that it

was difficult to realize in passing what they were.

It is a common custom, even if the residence has been permanently

changed to some distant province, to take the bodies back for

interment in the family group; and it is this custom which leads to

the practice of choosing a temporary location for the body, waiting

for a favorable opportunity to remove it to the family group. This

is often the occasion for the isolated coffin so frequently seen

under a simple thatch of rice straw, as in Fig. 29; and the many

small stone jars containing skeletons of the dead, or portions of

them, standing singly or in rows in the most unexpected places least

in the way in the crowded fields and gardens, awaiting removal to

the final resting place. It is this custom, too, I am told, which

has led to placing a large quantity of caustic lime in the bottom of

the casket, on which the body rests, this acting as an effective

absorbent.

It is the custom in some parts of China, if not in all, to

periodically restore the mounds, maintaining their height and size,

as is seen in the next two illustrations, and to decorate these once

in the year with flying streamers of colored paper, the remnants of

which may be seen in both Figs. 30 and 31, set there as tokens that

the paper money has been burned upon them and its essence sent up in

the smoke for the maintenance of the spirits of their departed

friends. We have our memorial day; they have for centuries observed

theirs with religious fidelity.

The usual expense of a burial among the working people is said to be

$100, Mexican, an enormous burden when the day's wage or the yearly

earning of the family is considered and when there is added to this

the yearly expense of ancestor worship. How such voluntary burdens

are assumed by people under such circumstances is hard to

understand. Missionaries assert it is fear of evil consequences in

this life and of punishment and neglect in the hereafter that leads

to assuming them. Is it not far more likely that such is the price

these people are willing to pay for a good name among the living and

because of their deep and lasting friendship for the departed? Nor

does it seem at all strange that a kindly, warm-hearted people with

strong filial affection should have reached, carry in their long

history, a belief in one spirit of the departed which hovers about

the home, one which hovers about the grave and another which wanders

abroad, for surely there are associations with each of these

conditions which must long and forcefully awaken memories of friends

gone. If this view is possible may not such ancestral worship be an

index of qualities of character strongly fixed and of the highest

worth which, when improvements come that may relieve the heavy

burdens now carried, will only shine more brightly and count more

for right living as well as comfort?

Even in our own case it will hardly be maintained that our burial

customs have reached their best and final solution, for in all

civilized nations they are unnecessarily expensive and far too

cumbersome. It is only necessary to mentally add the accumulation of

a few centuries to our cemeteries to realize how impossible our

practice must become. Clearly there is here a very important line

for betterment which all nationalities should undertake.

When the steamer anchored at Shanghai the day was pleasant and the

rain coats which greeted us in Yokohama were not in evidence but the

numbers who had met the steamer in the hope of an opportunity for

earning a trifle was far greater and in many ways in strong contrast

with the Japanese. We were much surprised to find the men of so

large stature, much above the Chinese usually seen in the United

States. They were fully the equal of large Americans in frame but

quite without surplus flesh yet few appeared underfed. To realize

that these are strong, hardy men it was only necessary to watch them

carrying on their shoulders bales of cotton between them, supported

by a strong bamboo; while the heavy loads they transport on

wheel-barrows through the country over long distances, as seen in

Fig. 32, prove their great endurance. This same type of vehicle,

too, is one of the common means of transporting people, especially

Chinese women, and four six and even eight may be seen riding

together, propelled by a single wheelbarrow man.

III

TO HONGKONG AND CANTON

We had come to learn how the old-world farmers bad been able to

provide materials for food and clothing on such small areas for so

many millions, at so low a price, during so many centuries, and were

anxious to see them at the soil and among the crops. The sun was

still south of the equator, coming north only about twelve miles per

day, so, to save time, we booked on the next steamer for Hongkong to

meet spring at Canton, beyond the Tropic of Cancer, six hundred

miles farther south, and return with her.

On the morning of March 4th the Tosa Maru steamed out into the

Yangtse river, already flowing with the increased speed of ebb tide.

The pilots were on the bridge to guide her course along the narrow

south channel through waters seemingly as brown and turbid as the

Potomac after a rain. It was some distance beyond Gutzlaff Island,

seventy miles to sea, where there is a lighthouse and a telegraph

station receiving six cables, that we crossed the front of the

out-going tide, showing in a sharp line of contrast stretching in

either direction farther than the eye could see, across the course

of the ship and yet it was the season of low water in this river.

During long ages this stream of mighty volume has been loading upon

itself in far-away Tibet, without dredge, barge, fuel or human

effort, unused and there unusable soils, bringing them down from

inaccessible heights across two or three thousand miles, building up

with them, from under the sea, at the gateways of commerce, miles

upon miles of the world's most fertile fields and gardens. Today on

this river, winding through six hundred miles of the most highly

cultivated fields, laid out on river-built plains, go large ocean

steamers to the city of Hankow-Wuchang-Hanyang where 1,770,000

people live and trade within a radius less than four miles; while

smaller steamers push on a thousand miles and are then but 130 feet

above sea level.

Even now, with the aid of current, tide and man, these brown turbid

waters are rapidly adding fertile delta plains for new homes. During

the last twenty-five years Chungming island has grown in length some

1800 feet per year and today a million people are living and growing

rice, wheat, cotton and sweet potatoes on 270 square miles of

fertile plain where five hundred years ago were only submerged river

sands and silt. Here 3700 people per square mile have acquired

homes.

The southward voyage was over a quiet sea and as we passed among and

near the off-shore islands these, as seen in Japan, appeared

destitute of vegetation other than the low herbaceous types with few

shrubs and almost no forest growth and little else that gave the

appearance of green. Captain Harrison informed me that at no time in

the year are these islands possessed of the grass-green verdure so

often seen in northern climates, and yet the islands lie in a region

of abundant summer rain, making it hard to understand why there is

not a more luxuriant growth.

Sunday morning, March 7th, passing first extensive sugar refineries,

found us entering the long, narrow and beautiful harbor of Hongkong.

Here, lying at anchor in the ten square miles of water, were five

battleships, several large ocean steamers, many coastwise vessels

and a multitude of smaller craft whose yearly tonnage is twenty to

thirty millions. But the harbor lies in the track of the terrible

East Indian typhoon and, although sheltered on the north shore of a

high island, one of these storms recently sunk nine vessels, sent

twenty-three ashore, seriously damaged twenty-one others, wrought

great destruction among the smaller craft and over a thousand dead

were recovered. Such was the destruction wrought by the September

storm of 1906.

Our steamer did not go to dock but the Nippon Yusen Kaisha's launch

transferred us to a city much resembling Seattle in possessing a

scant footing between a long sea front and high steep mountain

slopes behind. Here cliffs too steep to climb rise from the very

sidewalk and are covered with a great profusion and variety of

ferns, small bamboo, palms, vines, many flowering shrubs, all

interspersed with pine and great banyan trees that do so much toward

adding the beauty of northern landscapes to the tropical features

which reach upward until hidden in a veil of fog that hung, all of

the time we were there, over the city, over the harbor and stretched

beyond Old and New Kowloon.

Farmers of Forty Centuries; Or, Permanent Agriculture in China, Korea, and Japan · 第 2 / 21 段