Fusan
The journey from Seoul to Fusan is through lovely cultivated land,
everywhere varied by hill scenery, of which it has been estimated
that three-fourths of Korea consists. The largest proportion of grain
cultivated is rice, but wheat, barley, beans, millet, and other cereals
grow equally well. It is truly a land flowing with milk and honey, has
a beautiful climate, and if well governed ought to be most happy and
prosperous. It is not subject to earthquakes, nor to any other great
disasters, such as floods and plagues. Last year, it is true, cholera
broke out in Seoul, but by the splendid exertions of the Japanese it was
quickly brought under control with small loss of life.
As we travelled southward the land gradually became greener and the
fruit-trees showed their delicate blossoms. Over the willows there was a
delicate film of green, and the pink azaleas on the hill-sides glowed in
the evening light. The journey of twenty hours seemed long, however, for
we were travelling in an American car, and it taxed the ingenuity even of
the small and supple Japanese officers, who were our fellow-travellers,
to make themselves comfortable in the first-class carriage. The attendant
brought slippers all round, and when the officers had divested themselves
of their boots and unrolled their rugs and eiderdowns, it became an
interesting study to see them try to accommodate their forms to the small
seats for two. As they found a resting-place for their heads, their feet
crept up to the window-panes, or had to curl up like a spring. Happy the
man who can sleep undisturbed in such quarters, with the constant noise
of slamming doors and traffic passing through the car, which is the
American ideal of railway comfort!
The day wore away, and as we were nearing Fusan the attendant came to
brush us up and help us on with our coats; he also brought the surprising
news that our friends at the next station had telephoned up the line
to say they were coming to meet us, and that we should be ready to get
out at the next station. Accordingly we did so, and our friends told us
they had learnt that the boat by which we were going to Wonsan would not
start till the following morning, and that we should not even be allowed
to go on board till the next day. We were only too glad to accept the
kind hospitality which they offered us instead of the cold comfort of
a Japanese hotel at the port. It was very interesting to hear of work
being carried on by the Australian Presbyterians in this part of the
peninsula, though they have not had as rapid a success as their friends
in the north. They follow the same policy, the result being a strong
self-supporting church.
[Illustration: FUSAN]
[Illustration: A KOREAN VILLAGE]
I cannot omit a word about the experience of one of their new workers,
as it shows the extraordinary results of Christianity in another mission
field. This Scotsman only went to the New Hebrides some twelve years ago
to work among the former cannibals. In order to do this more effectually
they gave him, some time since, a motor boat to prosecute work among the
islands; this boat he found invaluable, being an experienced seaman and
working it himself. Unfortunately, owing to an attack of black-water
fever, he was obliged to give up work there by the doctor’s orders,
consequently the boat was left for the use of his successor. The natives
were greatly distressed at his leaving, and presented him with no less
a sum than £250 to commence work in his new sphere. He has decided to
start a similar work among the countless islands round the Southern
coast of Korea as soon as he has sufficiently mastered the language. The
generosity involved in such a gift is hard to overestimate.
It may interest people to know that the working expenses of the motor
boat comes to less than one penny a mile, namely about half the cost of
itinerating on the mainland.
Fusan is a beautiful spot, in an ideal situation for a harbour, but the
town itself has all the ugly characteristics of a busy seaport. The bay
is surrounded with high hills, showing a picturesque and varied outline,
with fruit-trees and other vegetation, giving a brighter note of colour
to the sombre pine-trees which cling to their rugged sides. The natural
excellence of the harbour, which is almost closed by an island, leaving
a channel for ships on both sides, has been further improved by the
removal of some of the spurs of the hills so as to give larger space for
wharfage. There is no doubt that Fusan will continue to grow in size
and importance, as it is the terminus of the railway and the nearest
point for reaching Japan. The ferry to Shimonoseki only takes twenty
hours, and plies daily in both directions. In the centre of the town is
a beautifully wooded little hill which has been laid out by the Japanese
with great taste. Long flights of handsome stone steps lead directly
upwards under the shade of overhanging pine-trees, and winding paths
lead more gently to the summit, offering alluring seats from which to
admire the bay. There is a succession of Shinto shrines which seem to be
much frequented. The worshipper approaches, claps his hands loudly, or
rings the bell to call the attention of the deity, and then kneels for a
moment in prayer. Some of the worshippers tossed up beans as they knelt,
or offered money, and there were not a few more costly offerings hanging
up—long tresses of black hair. These temples are of recent date, and war
trophies were also placed in front of them. Some of the passers-by paid
no further attention to the shrine than to bow and remove their hats,
but on the whole they elicited a considerable amount of worship, and
it is clear that the Japanese are more attached to their religion than
some people give them credit for. In this case they have selected the
most beautiful and most conspicuous place in the town for their temples;
have made a noble approach to them, and planted the little terraces with
lovely flowering shrubs, which were just bursting into blossom. The
hill-sides were gay with wild azalea and fragrant with the scent of the
pines.
We made an early start, as they assured us that it would be too late if
we went into town by the morning train, so a primeval bus was chartered
to convey us over the rugged roads, and we arrived at the office at 9.30,
only to be told that the steamer would not start till 4 or 5 o’clock in
the afternoon. We learnt afterwards that a large fine steamer left the
night before, although they so confidently assured us there was none. It
is a hard trial of patience to travel in Korea.
At the office of the Steamship Company we procured tickets, and were
amused at having to give our ages to be inscribed on the tickets, which
cost yen 14.70 (about twenty-nine shillings) to Wonsan, first class,
a passage of between thirty to forty hours in length. The boat was a
fair size, and was heavily laden with timber and petroleum. The staff
was entirely Japanese, and little English was understood, but European
requirements and wishes did not need to be explained, so we had no
difficulty. A more lovely sight than the bay as we steamed out of it
past the four sentinel rocks at the entrance in the level rays of the
setting sun would be hard to imagine, and one could not but remember how
securely hidden the Japanese fleet lay there in wait for the Russian
before the great battle in which the Baltic fleet was destroyed.
Our course followed the outline of the coast pretty closely, and the
mountains still had touches of snow on them, like veins outlining their
shapes. The mountains come quite close down on to the shore, and little
cultivation is to be seen on this side of the peninsula. On the eastern
coast of Korea there is a tide of only six or eight inches, whereas on
the western coast it is no less than twenty-seven feet three inches, one
of the highest tides in the world.
There were few birds visible—only an occasional seagull or cormorant, and
the white-sailed boats that we had seen thronging the bay of Fusan were
conspicuous by their absence. Hour after hour passed without a sign of
life being visible. Fortunately the sea was calm, and the next morning
but one we reached Wonsan at about 6 A.M. We had to land in small boats,
and were met by a party of missionaries, with whom we walked through a
good part of the modern town. It is well laid out, and has wide roads
leading to the quarters where the American missionaries live on the
slopes of hills overlooking the sea and embowered in trees. The Japanese
name for Wonsan is Gensan.