The Tokachi Region--Pure Ainu Types--Curious Mode of River Fishing.
The Tokachi River is one of the largest and most important in Yezo.
Knowing that the Ainu either settle on the sea-shore or up
river-courses, I formed an idea that some good types were to be found up
this river. On reaching Otsu, a small settlement at the mouth of the
Otsugawa--a branch of the large delta formed by the Tokachi--my idea was
confirmed by the report that there were no Japanese villages in the
interior. The expedition up the Tokachi River was by no means easy from
the accounts I heard at Otsu. None of the Japanese ever dare to
penetrate into the interior from Otsu, and, so far as foreigners are
concerned, the Tokachi River was utterly unexplored. There is a certain
charm in being the first man to do something, and I decided to attempt
the experiment. The Japanese of Otsu dissuaded me strongly from carrying
out my plan; for they said the grass and reeds were so high that I could
not possibly get through.
"It is a kind of a jungle, in fact," said they, "in which yellow and
black bears are plentiful. The rivers, which are numerous, are swollen
by the heavy rains that have fallen lately. The natives up the river are
unsociable and bad, and they will kill you. Then in the high grass
horse-flies, black-flies, and mosquitoes abound."
"If you attempt it alone," said the wise man of the party, "you will not
come back alive."
These reports were not encouraging, but, anyhow, I determined that,
Irish as it may sound, _dead_ or _alive_, if there were any Ainu up the
stream I would see them. Owing to the difficulty of taking even my usual
baggage, and not wishing to burden my ponies with more than was
necessary, I decided to carry with me only a paint-box, many wooden
sketching panels, my diary, and my revolver. I left all my other things
at Otsu to wait for my return.
"Should you not come back again, can I keep all your belongings as my
property?" kindly enquired the landlord of the tea-house, when I bade
good-bye to him and to all the villagers who had collected round early
in the morning to see me start.
I took two ponies, as usual. I left Otsu at dawn, and followed as well
as I could the winding course of the river. Not far from Otsu I came to
the thick jungle of high reeds and tall grass of which I had already
heard. I made my way through the first obstructions; but I had not been
in the jungle more than a few minutes when I was simply devoured by
horse-flies, mosquitoes, and black-flies. My ponies were kicking,
bucking, and trying to bolt, as they also were literally covered with
horse-flies, sucking their blood and stinging them to madness. The reeds
and grass were about ten or twelve feet high, so that, being higher than
myself on my horse, I could not see where I was going. I kept along the
river bank as much as I could; but in many places it was difficult to
get through the ravines which one invariably finds along rivers, so I
kept a little way off on the west side, and had the noise of the running
river to guide me. For many wearisome hours I rode through this jungle,
the dividing reeds continually rubbing against my face, arms, and legs,
sometimes making pretty deep cuts with their razor-edged long leaves.
The huge _shirau_--the horse-flies--grew more and more tiresome as the
sun got warmer, and my head and hands were swollen and bleeding. The sun
was by this time high in the sky, but there were no signs of the jungle
coming to an end, no indications of huts anywhere near--no other noise
but the sound of the crashing reeds and the running water of the river.
My ponies were feeding well, as grass was plentiful; but I was faring
badly. What with the exertion of keeping the ponies in order, while the
densely-entangled reeds nearly dragged me off the saddle--what with the
plague of mosquitoes and horse-flies, added to the sense of weakness
caused by fatigue and hunger--it was really a terrible time for me--one
of the worst episodes in my life. Nevertheless, I persevered, and went
on and on, determined to reach my destination. I came upon two very
large swamps, which forced me to make a wide _détour_. The ponies were
very tired, and so was I. When darkness set in I halted, took the heavy
pack-saddles off the ponies, and tied the animals to them, so that they
could not bolt during the night; and wearied, disheartened, and
discouraged as I was, I began to think how stupid I had been to start on
such an expedition without carrying any provisions with me--without
having provided myself with even a tent or a covering of any kind.
Circumstances made me a philosopher. What is the use of worrying about
things that cannot be helped? After all, when you get accustomed to it,
starving is really not so bad as people think. One of my ponies was of a
sentimental disposition, and he seemed to understand my troubles. He
came close and rubbed himself against me, placing his head near mine. It
was touching, and in the solitude in which I was the sympathy of the
dumb beast was as precious as that of a human being. Had he been able to
speak, he might have been taken for a Christian, and a good one, too! He
had been fearfully stung by horse-flies, and my petting him seemed to
alleviate his pain. There is nothing like sympathy and a little personal
kindness if one wants to make friends with animals. The last few rays of
light were spent in putting together the notes which I had taken during
the day, and which enabled me to draw a sketch-map of the river. At
Horoizumi some days previously I was able to buy myself a compass from
a Japanese fisherman, and on this occasion it was extremely useful to
me.
By the soft, or rather shrill, music of a full orchestra of mosquitoes I
fell asleep. It was poetic, but not comfortable. Strange noises woke me
several times during the night. My ponies also were very restless, and
repeatedly tried to get loose while I was lying down on the two saddles
to which they were fastened.
It was some time after sunrise when I woke up, and with stiff bones set
off again. A heavy dew had fallen during the night, and had made my
clothes very damp. The reeds and grass also were saturated with water,
and riding through them caused a continuous shower to fall over me,
giving me an uncomfortable and by no means efficient kind of shower
bath.
I rode in a westerly direction till about two or three in the afternoon,
when suddenly the jungle came to an end. Not only that, but a short
distance away I saw some Ainu huts. I soon reached them, dismounted, and
tied my ponies to a tree. I went to the first hut, and previous to going
in I called out: "Hem, hem, hem, hem!" which in the Ainu country is the
polite preliminary when a stranger wishes to enter a hut. The usual
practice of _knocking_ at the door is dispensed with, for Ainu doorways
have no doors.
"Hem, hem, hem, hem, hem!" called I again much louder, but I heard no
answer; so I lifted the mat and entered the hut. It was empty. No one
was there. I came out again, and went into the next hut, into another,
and yet another; but nobody was to be found. I supposed that they were
all out fishing. From the roof in each hut was hanging some dried and
half-dried salmon. I could not resist the temptation after nearly
thirty-four hours of involuntary fasting; and I stole--I mean
"conveyed," or helped myself to the largest fish. I was greedily eating
it--and how good it was!--when I thought I heard a groan inside the hut.
I listened, and I distinctly heard some one sniffing in a corner of the
dark dwelling. Had I been caught stealing? The crime I had committed
would be called felony at home, but in the Ainu country it has not
nearly so bad a name as that. However, felony or not, I dropped the
fish, or rather what remained of it, and made for the corner whence the
noise came. As I got closer I discerned a mass of white hair and two
claws, almost like thin human feet with long hooked nails. A few
fish-bones scattered on the ground and a lot of filth were massed
together in that corner; and the disgusting odours these exhaled were
beyond measure horrible.
"What the devil is that!" I said aloud in my own native tongue. I could
hear someone breathing heavily under that mass of white hair, but I
could not make out the shape of a human body. I touched the hair, I
pulled it, and with a groan, and movements similar to those of a snake
uncoiling itself, two thin bony arms suddenly stretched out and clasped
my hand. As my eyes were getting accustomed to the dim light I thought I
saw some almost worn-out tattoo marks on her arms. Yes, it was a woman
in that corner, though her limbs were merely skin and bone, and her long
hair and long nails gave her a ghastly appearance. Indeed, crouched as
she was, doubled up, with her head on her knees, and the long hair
falling over her face and shoulders, it was really difficult to make out
what she was.
I asked her to come out, but she was apparently deaf and dumb. I dragged
her out, and she made but little resistance; only she preferred crawling
on her hands and knees to walking upright on her feet. There is no
accounting for people's tastes, and I let her please herself in her
manner of locomotion. When she was fairly out in the light I shivered as
I looked at the miserable being before me. I lifted up her hair to see
the face. Her eyebrows were thick and shaggy, and were joined over the
nose. Her eyes were half closed, and dead-looking. The strong light
seemed to affect her, and with her hands she was feeling the ground,
probably in order to retrace her steps back to the dark spot. Nature
could not have inflicted more evils on that wretched creature. She was
nearly blind, deaf, and dumb; she apparently suffered from rheumatism,
which had doubled up her body and stiffened her bony arms and legs; and,
moreover, she showed many of the symptoms of leprosy. Altogether, she
was painful, horrible, disgusting, and humiliating to contemplate.
I went back to my ponies to fetch my paint-box. During my absence there
had collected round them half-a-dozen Ainu. They did not know what to
think of the appearance of the two animals, and the few articles
fastened to the pack-saddle were regarded with suspicion. When I
appeared on the scene their astonishment was even greater, and it
reached its climax when I saluted them in the Ainu fashion, and told
them that I was a friend of the Ainu. I unfastened my paint-box and went
back to the old woman. She was still where I had left her. All the Ainu
present followed me, and when I squatted down they did the same in a
semicircle round me. My wretched model attempted several times to crawl
inside the hut, but as I was sitting close to her, I prevented her from
doing so. There she sat in the most extraordinary position, with her
head resting on her left hand, and the stiff fingers of her right hand
pressed on the ground. One leg was bent up and the other was folded,
resting on the ground and on the foot of the first. She was sniffing the
wind, and making efforts to see with her half-blind eyes.
[Illustration: MADWOMAN OF YAMMAKKA.]
It is hardly necessary to say that I did not keep my model longer than
was strictly necessary, and when the sketch was finished I took her by
the arm, brought her back into the hut, and led her to her favourite
corner. There she crouched herself again, as I had found her; and there
I left her, to bear the miseries of her life, till death, the cure of
all woes, shall take away her soul, if not her body, from the filth she
had lived in. She was neither ill-treated nor taken care of by the
villagers or by her son, who lived in the same hut; but she was regarded
as a worthless object, and treated accordingly. A fish was occasionally
flung to her, as one would to a beast, and in such a condition this
human being had lived, or rather existed, apparently for several years.
Not a word was uttered by the villagers during the few minutes I took to
paint the sketch. I turned round to inspect my new friends. Others had
come up, and these men and women, hairy and partly naked, squatting down
amidst filth, and driven half mad by the horse-flies and black-flies,
looked just like a large family of restless monkeys. They were gentle
and kind--much more so than any of their more civilised brethren; and
one of them, a fine old man, came forward when I came out of the hut and
wished me to go and see a big yellow bear they had captured. I went, and
near the man's hut, in a rough square cage made of crossed branches of
trees, was Bruin grinding his teeth as we drew near. In a sing-song
monotone the man told me the story of the hunt, and how the bear had
been captured. Then we went from one hut to another all through the
village. Yamakubiro is the name given to the huts taken collectively,
but the man took good care to explain to me that one part of the village
(numbering only seven houses) was called Tchiota, and the other, a short
distance away, was named Yammakka. Tchiota in the Ainu language means
"dead-sand," and Yammakka is "land in behind."
Yammakka has ten huts. The hut in which I had to put up was more than
filthy, and I had a sort of presentiment that my landlord was a
scoundrel. He saw me giving a small silver Japanese coin to a girl I had
painted. From that moment I noticed his eyes were continually fixed on
my waistcoat pocket, out of which I had taken the coin. However, I did
not think much of that, as all Ainu are fond of beads, metals, or
anything that shines. When the evening came I tried to go to sleep on
the hard planks, as usual. There is undoubtedly more _board_ than
_lodging_ about Ainu accommodation. Myriads of Taikkis, the tiny but
troublesome and uninvited guests of all dirty dwellings, did me the
honour to sup off the few drops of blood which remained in my veins. I
owed it to a bottle of Keating's Powder that I was not carried away
bodily by them. I felt cold and feverish, and having no civilised
bed-clothes to cover me, I slept with my clothes on; and this the more
willingly, as I felt an instinctive mistrust of my host, and I thought
it was as well to be ready for any emergency.
A few salmon were hanging right over my nose. They hung low, but they
smelt high. I had been given a place in the south-west corner of the
hut, and my landlord retired to the north-east corner. Though this may
sound very far, my host was really not more than a few feet away from
me. He apparently thought that I had gone to sleep, for I heard him
creep to my side. I could not see him, being in absolute darkness, but
though he was evidently holding his breath, I could feel the warmth of
his face near mine. He was listening to hear if I were asleep. I kept
quiet, and pretended to snore. This gave him courage, and sliding his
hand gently along my arm, he came to a pocket in my coat. He began to
explore it--but the Ainu are an unfortunate people even when they try to
steal. He had got hold of a pocket with no bottom to it--a common
occurrence in my coats. The more he explored, the more he found there
was to explore. I am fond myself of explorations, and I have no
objection to a fellow-being, hairy or not hairy, "prospecting" my empty
pockets or my pockets which have no bottom to them. However, my host was
not satisfied with the first results of his researches, and with his
hand still through the torn lining of the coat-pocket proceeded to
investigate the contents of my waistcoat pockets. This was a different
matter altogether, and catching hold of him before he was able to
disentangle himself, I swung his arm away and hit him hard on the head
with my right fist.
"Wooi!" cried he in despair, and half stunned, as he scrambled away as
best he could to his north-east corner. By way of apology and excuse,
and with a trembling voice, the man from his corner said that he had
only come to sleep on my side of the hut, as the wind was blowing strong
where he had lain down, and that my side was warmer. A good excuse
indeed when you are caught _flagrante delicto_ pickpocketing!
The salmon which my host gave me last night for dinner and this morning
for breakfast was so rotten, that, hungry as I was, I could not eat it.
From Yammakka, in a westerly direction, the way begins with a gentle
incline; therefore there is a complete absence of the high and
troublesome reeds which I had found in the vast marshy plain I had
crossed on my way here from the coast. I intended pushing on to
Frishikobets, a larger village some miles off. The old scoundrel wanted
to accompany me part of the way, saying that there were two dangerous
rivers to cross, and he would show me where to wade them. I fancied that
they were as dangerous as they were imaginary, and I started off
declining his offer. I came across several Ainu huts on my way, passed
the village of Pensatsunai--six Ainu huts--on the Satsunai river, an
affluent of the Tokachi, and then arrived at Obishiro in the afternoon.
There are seven houses at Obishiro. I entered one of them, and to my
astonishment I found myself in front of an old man and a pretty woman,
whose appearance and manners were as refined as those of the better
classes in Japan. A younger man also came in. Their astonishment was as
great as mine, as they had not seen any civilised beings since they had
been there. Though the outside of their dwelling was not prepossessing,
the inside was so clean that I felt as if I had dropped into heaven.
After what I had gone through, this unexpected _rencontre_ brought me
back to life and a belief in the proprieties of a civilised existence,
almost forgotten by now!
These people had a romantic history. Watanabe Masaru--the younger
man--was a Japanese gentleman by birth and education, but he had no
fortune. Of an adventurous disposition, clever, sensitive, and tired of
the conventionalities of his fatherland, he decided eight or ten years
ago to emigrate to Hokkaido, and there lead the life of a colonist. The
woman he loved was as brave and constant as he. She sailed with him and
her father from Japan, and after a long and perilous journey in a junk
(sailing boat), they landed at the mouth of the Tokachi River. In Ainu
canoes they went up the river, and established themselves at Obishiro,
far from civilisation, nearly in the centre of Yezo. At first they had a
great deal of trouble with the natives, but now they are loved by all.
There, with two lovely children, they lead an ideal life, far from the
madding crowd and noise of the world, and freed from the vulgarity of
society.
I rode on to Frishikobets village, situated on the Frishiko, "old
river," and in the midst of a beautiful plain. There are only
twenty-eight houses, and they are scattered about in the plain at a
distance of several hundred yards one from the other. Some of the huts
were hidden in the forest. A peculiarity of the Ainu of the Upper
Tokachi River is, that they frequently cover their dwellings and
storehouses with the bark of trees, instead of with reeds, as is the
custom among the Ainu of the Saru River and Volcano Bay.
I was told here again that Ainu women often suckle small bears at their
breasts so as to fatten them up for the festival; and one not
infrequently sees the women in Ainu households chewing food, and letting
the young cub take it from their lips.
These Ainu are much more interesting as types, and also much purer in
race, than either the Piratori or the Volcano Bay Ainu. A learned
missionary, who has not himself visited these people, writes as follows
regarding them:--"The Ainu of the Tokapchi district, in Yezo, are spoken
of as having been particularly addicted to this kind of warfare (night
raids against each other, in which the men were murdered, and the women
stolen and used as slaves or kept as concubines), and are even now held
in abhorrence by the people of some villages. They are said not only to
have murdered people, but also to have eaten some of them. They were,
therefore, cannibals, and I have heard them spoken of as 'eaters of
their own kind.'"[18]
[18] Rev. John Batchelor, 'The Ainu of Japan,' chap. xx.
From my own personal experience--and I may add I am the only foreigner
who has seen these Tokachi, or as others call them, Tokapchi Ainu--I
came to a conclusion very different from this. I found that not only
were they not cannibals, but that, taken altogether, they were the most
peaceable, gentle, and kind Ainu I came across during my peregrinations
through the land of the hairy people. Indeed, I am sorry to say that it
is not savagery that makes the Ainu bad, but it is civilisation that
demoralises them. The only place in Yezo where I was actually
ill-treated by Ainu, as my readers will remember, is the village where
they were said to be "very civilised."
I have no wish to force my opinion on the public as the correct one. I
do but describe what I have actually seen in a district in which others
who have written on this subject have never set foot, and I leave it to
my readers to judge who has most claim to be heard.
The language of the Tokachi Ainu varies considerably from the language
spoken in more civilised districts, and none of the natives up the river
could speak Japanese when I was there.
[Illustration: AINU WOMAN OF FRISHIKOBETS, ON THE TOKACHI RIVER.]
Unfortunately, the Ainu of this region are not very numerous, and
constant intermarriage among near relations has proved detrimental to
the race. However, a glance at them is quite sufficient to show the
difference between them and Ainu of other tribes. They are not so
picturesquely arrayed as their more western brothers, and the large
Japanese brass and silver earrings, as well as the glass bead necklaces
which make such a brave show yonder, are replaced here by rough bone or
wooden ornaments. Men and women in summer are almost entirely naked, and
all children are clad in their own bare skins only. Their winter
garments are made of bear and deer skins. Some peculiar snow-sandals,
made of the bark of a kind of ash-tree called _shina_, are sometimes
worn over the winter salmon-skin boots or moccasins. The Ainu make their
ropes out of the bark of this _shina_, though often young vine stems are
used for the same purpose. River fishing-nets are generally made of
young vines twisted. They are of the roughest description, and are only
fit for rivers where fish is abundant, as in the Yezo watercourses. The
Ainu at Frishikobets took very kindly to sitting for their portraits,
and one after the other--all the best types--were immortalised either in
oils or in pencil. Strange to say, I came across another old woman, a
lunatic, very similar to the one I saw at Yammakka. Her face was that of
a witch, her eyebrows joining downwards somewhat in the shape of an
owl's beak. Her long pale hands and face, and the long wild hair
covering half her face, gave her a striking appearance. She had,
however, not yet reached the stage of imbecility which her Yammakka
sister had attained. Lunacy is very common among the Ainu, and the
unfortunate creature thus afflicted seems to lose not only the respect,
but also the pity, as well as care, of all the others, and is treated by
them as a worthless animal.
After crossing the Frishikobets River, some distance off, on the east
side of the Tokachi River, are the villages of Upar-penai,[19]
twenty-one Ainu huts, Memuro-puto,[20] sixteen huts, and Ottoinnai,[21]
fourteen huts. Then comes Kinney, with seven houses; and finally
Nitumap,[22] the last village on the Tokachi River, has as many as
thirty-six houses.
[19] _U_, place; _par_, mouth; _pe_, undrinkable water; _nai_,
stream; _Upar-penai_, a place at the mouth of a stream of
undrinkable water.
[20] _Me_, in front; _mu_, sheltered spot in a river; _ro_, track;
_puto_, mouth of river; _Memuro-puto_, track in front of a
sheltered spot at the mouth of a river.
[21] _Otto_, into; _i_, a place; _nai_, stream; _Ottoinnai_, a place
in a stream.
[22] _Nitumap_, open trunk of a tree.
The huts of the Tokachi region are much smaller than those on the Saru
River, and near many of them is a cage, in which a big yellow or black
bear is confined. The natives told me that yellow and black bears were
numerous in the neighbourhood. Deer (the _yuk_, male deer, and
_mowambe_, female), were formerly plentiful, but now are very scarce. A
few years ago a pestilence killed great numbers of them, and since then
they have dwindled away.
Not many miles from Frishikobets a huge cliff rises perpendicularly
along the Shikarubets River. A landslip seems to have taken place, which
leaves one side of the cliff perfectly bare and rugged, showing the
strata composing the soil. It is of a light yellowish colour, and it is
called by the Ainu the _Shikarubets Otchirsh_, which translated into
English means "the white cliff on the bend of the river." This cliff
stands very high, and can be seen from a great distance, especially in a
north-east, east, or southerly direction. In winter, when the rushes and
reeds are not so high in the south-eastern portion of the plain, the
white cliff can be distinguished from the whole of the Tokachi valley.
The Ainu themselves use the Shikarubets Otchirsh as a landmark when out
hunting bears. Owing to its light colour it is visible even at night. I
was anxious to ascend it, as I was sure no European foot had ever
trodden on it before. Accompanied by Watanabe Masaru, I started out on
horseback and crossed the Frishikobets village and river. Here we left
our horses under the care of an Ainu till our return. We had to cross
the Tokachi in an Ainu "dug-out," and then, proceeding for several miles
in a northerly direction, we arrived at the foot of the mountain. It
would have been impossible to climb it on the east side, as it is quite
perpendicular; but we were fortunate in getting an Ainu called Unacharo,
who said he knew a point from which we could ascend, and that he would
show us the way. He had been hunting bears on that mountain, and he knew
its slopes well; but as to the way which he was to show us, we had to
make it for ourselves. With our large knives we were forced to break,
cut, and tear the entangled branches of trees and shrubs before we could
get on. We actually had to cut our way through the dense scrubwood until
we reached the summit. The ascent was rather dangerous in some places,
and extremely rough when going through the brushwood. We had to keep as
much as possible near the edge of the cliff, for though it involved more
danger if we slipped or stumbled, the entangled shrubs were not so thick
on the edge as farther inland. Finally, after several hours' hard work,
we reached the top, and were well repaid for our fatigues. The whole of
the Tokachi valley was stretched before us as far as the sea, and almost
the whole course of the winding river, with all its numerous affluents,
could be distinguished like so many shining silver ribbons on the green
background formed by the tall grass and reeds. As a farming region the
Tokachi valley and high plains are certainly the most fertile in
Hokkaido. All the requisites for successful agriculture can be found
there. The absence of the mountain masses of volcanic rocks, so common
all over Hokkaido, the richness of the soil, the quantity of water for
irrigation or for motive power, besides the comparative facility of
making roads on such flat ground, are qualities that good farmers do not
generally despise. It is therefore a great pity to see all that Tokachi
valley practically deserted and so much good land wasted. Hemp, wheat,
corn, potatoes, beans, and all kinds of vegetables and cereals, could be
grown with advantage, and the produce carried down the river to the sea
without much difficulty and at little expense. At Yamakubiro the land
begins to rise in a gentle slope, but only to form a plateau, of which
the top is another large plain reaching to the foot of the Oputateishike
mountain mass. The Otopke Mountain is the highest peak, and resembles in
shape the Fujiama of Japan. On the north-east side of this mountain are
the hot springs of Ni-piri-bets.[23] A kind of wood is said by the Ainu
to be found near these hot springs which is good for curing wounds,
cuts, rheumatism, and other ailments. These hot springs are not of much
importance, and it is but seldom that even the Ainu themselves visit
them. In going to and returning from these springs the Shikarubets
Otchirsh is never lost sight of by the Ainu, and by the aid of this
landmark they return safely to their homes.
[23] _Ni_, wood; _piri_, wound; _bets_, river.
All the Oputateishike mountain mass is volcanic, and forms the backbone
of the island of Yezo. From the Shikarubets Otchirsh I was able to draw
a bird's-eye view of the course of the Tokachi River and its affluents,
which afterwards helped me much in delineating a sketch-map of the
Tokachi region, with its complicated watercourses. The two high
mountains of Satsumai and Ghifzan could also be plainly seen from there.
Coming down was much easier than going up, and when we had again reached
the bottom of the mountain we turned northward until we came to the
Shorui-washi River, an affluent of the Tokachi. Previous to this, while
following the course of the Otsu River, I saw a strange sight. When on
the summit of the Shikarubets Otchirsh I had seen two Ainu "dug-outs"
pass up the river, and the Ainu who accompanied us said we should soon
see them coming back again. We were not far from the river banks when
shouts and cries of excitement reached my ears. I hurried on to the
water-side and saw the two "dug-outs" swiftly coming down with the
strong current, parallel with each other at a distance of about seven
feet apart. There were three people in each "dug-out," viz., a woman
with a paddle steering at the prow; another woman crouched up at the
stern, and a man in the middle. A coarse net made of young vines, and
about five feet square, was fastened to two poles seven or eight feet
long. The man who stood in the centre of each canoe held one of the
poles, to the upper end of which the net was attached, and attentively
watched the water.
"They are catching salmon--look!" said Unacharo to me; "the salmon are
coming up the stream from the sea." The small net was plunged into the
water between the two canoes, and nearly each time a large salmon was
scooped out and flung into one or other of the "dug-outs," where the
woman sitting at the stern crushed its head with a large stone. If a
fish escaped, yells of indignation, especially from the women folk,
broke out from the boats, to be echoed by the high white cliff. Both men
and women were naked, and the dexterity and speed with which they
paddled their canoes down the stream, working the coarse net at the same
time, seldom missing a fish, was simply marvellous. On the other hand,
it must be remembered that fish were so plentiful in the river, that it
was really easier to catch than to miss. In wading the Shikarubets
(river) I could see large salmon passing me by the dozen, and I felt
quite uncomfortable when some large fish either rubbed itself against or
passed between my legs. We got across the Shorui-washi--literally "very
burning a place to stand"--and having then gone far enough from the
Shikarubets Otchirsh to see the whole of it, I managed to take a good
sketch of it. Near this river are some hot springs, called Nishibets,
from which the river has taken its peculiar name. The easiest way to the
Otopke Mountain is to follow the valley between the Shikarubets and the
Otopke River, and then climb the mountain on the north-east side. The
latter part of the journey is extremely rough and difficult. Watanabe
and I returned to Obishiro. It is not often that one anywhere meets with
such simple, straightforward people as these Watanabes. They have lived
alone at Obishiro for eight years among savages, but never in my life
have I met with more civilised, kind, thoughtful, gentle beings than
Watanabe and his wife. As civilisation makes savages bad, I dare say
savage life makes civilised people good! I go away carrying with me a
deep affection for these gentle strangers, whose kindness to me has made
them my friends.
The day came for me to return to the coast. My ponies, probably
frightened by bears, broke loose during the night, and one of them ran
away; and I was rather in a difficulty as to how I should get back
whence I had come. Watanabe, adding kindness to kindness, allowed me to
have one of his ponies, and after repeated good-byes I started on my
journey back to the coast. About four miles east of Yammakka the Tokachi
River receives a large affluent, the Toshibets, or "river of high
swamps." The Tunnui Puto is the largest of these swamps, about four
miles north of the mouth of the Toshibets. _Tunnui_ means a kind of
tree, probably the _Quercus dentata_; _puto_ or _put_ means the mouth of
a river. The course of the Toshibets River is almost from due north to
south from its source, then for about six or seven miles from north-west
to south-east, and, sharply turning again from north to south, continues
in this direction winding continually for eighteen or twenty miles, till
it throws itself with a large body of water in the Tokachi River. On the
southern side of the latter part of the watercourse are found the Ainu
villages of Pombets, twenty-two huts; Purokenashpa,[24] three huts;
Kenashpa,[25] twelve huts; and Beppo,[26] eleven huts. The
characteristics of the natives of these villages and their habitations
are similar to those already described at Frishikobets. The journey down
was much the same as that coming up. Tobuts, on the north side of the
Tokachi, is the largest Ainu village in the district, and has as many as
sixty huts. The inhabitants are possessed of a somewhat fiery temper in
this particular village, and the day previous to my going through two
men were killed in a row. I felt awfully annoyed at being just one day
too late to see it, as then I might have described how the Ainu die.
However, I reached the other side of the Tokachi again. A way through
the same tall rushes and reeds had to be forced, and the same army of
mosquitoes and horse-flies had to be met and endured. It was my
intention to push on and reach the coast as soon as possible. At
Yammakka the natives had seen my runaway pony galloping at full speed
towards the coast, but no one had caught it. Probably no one had tried.
[24] _Puro_, great; _ke_, I; _nashpa_, deafening noise.
[25] _Ke_, I; _nashpa_, deafening noise.
[26] _Beppo_ or _pet put_, at the mouth of a river.
My ponies went well. I could plainly see where I had already come
through the jungle, by the long trail of crushed and broken reeds I had
left behind me. Everything was calm, but for the monotonous sound of
crashing leaves produced by my forcing my way through the reeds.
Suddenly my ponies stopped, shied, and began to back. They sniffed the
ground, then the air. Their ears were straight up, their eyes were
restless, and their nostrils widely distended. They were certainly under
some great excitement, and showed unmistakable signs of terror. "What
could be the cause of it?" I asked myself, but all the same gave the
ponies a sound thrashing to make them go. It was useless--they would not
stir. The second pony came by the side of mine, and they both put their
heads together, in their own way consulting and concerting. They were
utterly demoralised, and were kicking awfully. It was getting dark, and
this riotous conduct on the part of my ponies was annoying.
Unexpectedly, and with a tremendous growl, a huge black bear sprang
towards us, and tried to seize the baggage pony. However, he and the
beast I was riding bolted, and ran a desperate race for life; and though
Bruin followed us clumsily for some time, we soon were far ahead, and
lost sight of him. It was more than I could do to stop the frightened
brutes; but finally, after a reckless steeplechase of many miles, after
jumping over brooks and splashing across torrents, flying over the
ground and through the jungle, without omitting to anathematise a
horsefly that had settled on the back of my neck, and was amusing itself
by boring holes in different parts of it to find a suitable spot for
feeding, finally we came to a halt. It was about time. During the
violent ride the reeds had cut my face and neck and hands, and I was
bleeding all over. I went on and on, and, as my ponies did not seem to
be very tired, I tried to reach the coast that night. It grew dark, but
the night was fine, and I let the noise of the running river guide me.
Each minute seemed an hour, each hour an age. I rode and rode, and still
rode, till I was nearly exhausted; and still I was surrounded by the
tall reeds and rushes. "Thank God!" I heartily exclaimed, when finally,
at a small hour of the morning, I found myself in open ground again, and
the wind brought in waves the salt smell of the sea.
An hour or so afterwards two tired ponies were easily pulled up at the
tea-house at Otsu, the landlord was roused, and a wearied and
half-starved traveller was let in.
[Illustration: THE SHIKARUBETS OTCHIRSH.]
[Illustration: AINU MAN OF THE UPPER TOKACHI.]