On the East and North-East Coast--From Nemuro to Shari-Mombets.
I did not remain long at Nemuro after my return from the Kuriles; in
fact, I remained only a few hours, and again my baggage was lashed to
the pack-saddle, again I was perched on the top of this instrument of
torture, and soon was rapidly moving north towards the inhospitable
coast of the Okhotsk Sea.
The first few days of the lonely life of a peripatetic Robinson Crusoe
are unmistakably disagreeable, but after that initiation there is no
doubt that it is a fascinating life. I was more than glad when the gay
Nemuro was out of sight, and the noise and rumble of semi-civilisation
out of hearing. The editor and seven gentlemen of Nemuro accompanied me
for a few miles--then I was left to myself and my own resources.
Crossing the Onnetto River, the outlet of a large lagoon of the same
name, I passed through Nishibets and then Bitskai, where in former days
the Japanese had established a salmon-canning factory, which proved a
failure, owing to the incapacity of its directors and workmen. Salmon is
very abundant in the Nishibets River, and a well-managed canning factory
would be a great success. About ten or eleven miles north of Bitskai a
peculiar peninsula stretches out from north-east to south-west, which
affords a shelter for small junks from northerly winds. It is called
Noshike, and is not more than a few feet above the sea-level. The soil
all along is very marshy, and the numerous little rivulets and rivers
are extremely troublesome to cross. My pony was continually sinking into
and struggling out of mud-holes, into which it had fallen when wading
across these small watercourses, sometimes not more than a few feet
wide. I pushed on as far as Shimbets, where there are only a shed and a
couple of Ainu huts inhabited by half-castes. I had to put up here for
the night, and by the light of a wick burning in a large oyster-shell
filled with fish-oil I wrote a few notes in my diary. The fleas in that
house were something appalling. The next morning I had some fun with a
wild pony, which I received in exchange for the tired animal I had
brought.
"Nobody can get on him," said the Ainu half-caste, "but if you think you
can ride him he will go like the wind."
It took all hands in the small village to get the pack-saddle and
baggage on to his back, and after we had tied him to a post and lashed
his fore legs together I mounted. By instalments he was untied, let
loose, and then afforded us some real fun. He revolved, bucked, kicked,
stood on his hind legs, and did his very best to bite my legs and knock
me off the saddle. A small fence was kicked and smashed into a thousand
bits, and he even attempted to enter the huts--anything to get rid of
his rider; but he did not succeed. His next trick was to plunge into the
river close by, and when he reached the middle to shake himself
violently. He then came out on the other side, and, turning his head,
saw as well as felt that I was still on his back; then he neighed as if
in great distress, and bolted. He galloped along the small track, and
really did go "like the wind." As a punishment I made him keep up the
pace even when he was tired of his contumacy, and in less than no time I
reached Shibets, ten miles distant from where I had started.
Shibets is a village of one hundred Japanese houses and twenty Ainu
huts. The Ainu here have almost altogether adopted Japanese clothes, as
well as something of the Japanese style of living. The river which goes
by the same name is notable for the quantity and good quality of salmon
caught in it, and it is the best salmon-fishing river on the north-east
coast of Yezo. Herrings are also abundant, but not to the same extent
as on the south-east coast. A peculiarity of the river is that before
entering the sea it turns sharply south and runs along a bank of sand
and mud, which is growing larger every year, which shows that a current
from the Okhotsk Sea must travel down in that direction through the
strait between Kunashiri and Yezo. The same peculiarity is noticeable in
nearly all the rivers of the north-east coast.
From Shibets to Wembets the track is fairly even, but from Wembets round
Cape Shiretoko it is in many places impassable even on foot. The
Peninsula, ending in Cape Shiretoko, is a mass of high volcanic
mountains towards the interior, while scabrous cliffs and huge rocks
fringe the line of coast. However, from Shibets there is a small
mountain track inland which brings the traveller across to the
north-east coast near Shari. The track was through beautiful forests of
pine trees, oak, birch, and elm, and during the first few miles it is on
almost level ground. After that, hill after hill is ascended and
descended, and one goes ever onwards at a higher altitude, until Rubets,
a small shed, is reached. From here the track follows a zig-zag
direction till it reaches the summit of the mountain range, and one then
begins to descend on the other side. From the summit there is a lovely
view of beautiful blue mountains in the distant west, one of which is
called Oakan, and the other Moyokan. The mountainous part of the track
from Igiani, three miles from Shibets, as far as the north-east coast,
reminded me much of the scenery in Switzerland, with its rapid and
limpid fresh-water rivers, thickly-wooded country, and green grass,
which last was replaced here by an undergrowth of scrub bamboo. When I
went across this mountain pass the rain was pouring in torrents, and the
road, such as it was, being very slippery and heavy, I only reached the
north-east coast at dark. The moon would not rise till late, there were
heavy black clouds, and I was more than puzzled how to find my way.
To add to my bad luck, my pony this time was a sorry beast, with his
back a mass of sores. I was simply drenched with the rain that never
ceased. Now and then, by the blinding flash of lightning, I could see a
long stretch of sand and a line of sand-hills; I could also see the
reeds bending low under the squalls, and then everything was darkness
again. I was leading my tired beast, and dragging him along as well as
I could. Every few yards the wretched creature collapsed, and it took a
lot of petting, caressing, encouraging and beating to make him get up
again. I had ridden and walked about fourteen hours in the rain, and was
nearly frozen to death.
Since I had got out of the forest a bitterly cold north wind chilled me
through and through, and added the last touch to my weariness and
discomfort. Again the pony fell, and all my efforts to make him get up
were useless. The storm, if anything, seemed to increase in violence,
while my own strength was decreasing every minute. I lay down by the
side of the pony, trying to warm myself by his heat, and, shivering and
rattling my teeth together, I tried to go to sleep.
A couple of hours were spent in this way, and when the moon rose I could
see a little clearer. I climbed with hands and feet on to the
sand-hills, and I fancied I saw some dark spots in the distance. Could
they be Shari? First one end of my whip, then the other, was reduced
into pulp on my pony's back, and with a great effort he again stood on
all four legs. I had to support the wretch all the way, as you would a
drunken man, and we went at the rate of less than a mile an hour. The
spots grew bigger and bigger, and took the shape of huts.
"Hem, hem, hem, hem!" I called out at the first hut, while three or four
dogs barked furiously and went for my legs. "Will you let a stranger
sleep here to-night?"
"This is no house for strangers; go elsewhere!" answered a drowsy hoarse
voice from inside.
"May you be kept--hot!" said I, in pure Ainu fashion, though in my heart
I attached quite a different meaning to the sentence from that which the
hairy people give it; and wearily I pulled myself together and passed
on.
A shadow crept out of one of the huts, and thanks to that shadow I found
a shelter for the night. There are fifty Ainu huts at Shari, and ten
Japanese, with an Ainu population of about one hundred souls. The Ainu
here have adopted Japanese clothes, and many of them eat Japanese food
when they can get it. The Ainu women of Shari are exceedingly pretty,
as they do not tattoo the long moustache across their faces, like other
Ainu. Some of them have a small semicircular tattoo on the upper lip,
which is not very displeasing to the eye; and in some cases is even
becoming. The girls have also given up tattooing their arms. The men are
much taller than the Ainu men of other regions, and they seem to be
rather ill-natured. Japanese blood can be detected in many of them, and
that may account for it. While the women are prettier, the men have
repulsive faces, possessing all the characteristics of purely criminal
types.
One young fellow who sat for me was the very image of Robespierre in his
worst moments, and an old man who sat for me afterwards would, according
to Phrenology, prove to be a murderer of the first water. This gentleman
was a troublesome sitter, and excelled in making the most awful faces,
which were accompanied by sounds imitating those of wild beasts. The
Shari Ainu build their storehouses with cylindrical roofs, similar to
those of their brethren on the Kutcharo Lake.
After the heavy storm of the previous night the weather cleared up for
the rest of the day, and the sunset, reflected in the limpid waters of
the river, was simply magnificent. On the other side, sheltered by the
sand-hills, were a few Ainu huts standing out against the brilliant red
and yellow sky, and here and there a large fish jumped out of the water,
leaving circle after circle of concentric rings to break for the moment
the reflection in the water.
From Shari to Abashiri the road is for some distance among trees, mostly
fir and spruce, and then the Tobuts Lake is reached, half of which is a
mere marsh. It is picturesquely situated, and I followed its borders for
about three miles, having the sea on one side, the lake on the other.
The track was easy and mostly on sand. At the outlet of the lake into
the sea is the Ainu village of Tobuts, access to which is to be had only
by boat, as the river is extremely deep, and its current very swift.
In the proximity of Tobuts another and smaller lake, the Opoto, with its
short and winding estuary, is on the left of the traveller, while a long
way ahead the Abashiri rocks stand high on the horizon. A few Ainu huts
are scattered along the coast, and some of them have peculiarly shaped
storehouses. They are small, built entirely of wood, and roofed with
shingles. Some have two floors, and in this case, though built on piles,
the first floor is only a few inches above the ground. The "mat" was
supplanted by a wooden door at the entrance of the storehouse.
The Abashiri cliffs are grand, and from a distance have all the
appearance of, though they are not in reality, basaltic rocks. They are
scarred, riven, and fractured in all directions, as if by excessive
heat. The upper portion of the cliffs is of a beautiful grey-whitish
colour, blending into yellow and red at their warm brown bases. The
small cylindrical islet which I give in the illustration is on the north
side of this cliff, and is of the same volcanic formation. It has
certain traces of sulphur as a further evidence of its origin. Flocks of
sea-gulls, penguins, and cormorants have chosen this island for their
abode.
Abashiri is the only place on the north-east coast which may eventually
be of some importance, as it has a fair anchorage for small craft under
the lee of the islet and outstretching cliff. No other place on the
north-east coast possesses such an advantage. On the Shiretoko Peninsula
sulphur accumulations are found at Itashibeoni; but, unfortunately, the
want of a safe harbour, the ruggedness of the coast, and the lack of
drinkable water in the vicinity, are all facts which make it improbable
that it could be worked with profit for some years to come. The Ainu at
Abashiri are repulsive creatures, especially the men, and have more the
appearance of wild beasts than human beings. Their faces are almost
square, the mouth large, with narrow lips, the ends of which converge
towards the ears. The nose is short and stumpy, they have very heavy
eyebrows, and the eyes are almost lost under the shadow of their
projecting forehead.
Ponies are scarce and bad along this coast, and the further north one
goes the more difficult the travelling becomes; the huts are rarer; the
human beings more uncouth and solitary. The north-east coast is a region
of swamps, lagoons, and quicksand rivers.
Not far inland from Abashiri there is a large lagoon, the Abashiri-ko;
then, a few miles further north, another as large--the Notoro-ko. The
Abashiri Lake finds an outlet in a river which goes by the same name of,
and falls into the pretty Bay of Abashiri; but the Notoro-ko, as well as
the larger lagoon of Saruma-ko, which one comes upon after having passed
the two villages of Tukoro and Tobuts, open directly into the sea. The
strong current and the tide often block the entrance of these lagoons,
and the rising water finds an outlet in a different spot. These lagoons
are separated from the sea by a long and narrow strip of sand-hill; and
crossing the outlet always involves great danger if the unwary traveller
does not choose the right moment. The tide creating a great inequality
of level between the sea and the lake, it follows that at the opening of
the lagoon the water either throws itself from the sea into the lagoon,
or _vice versâ_, according to the ebb or flow, and makes a kind of
whirlpool. The Saruma Lake being much larger than any of the others,
while its mouth is much smaller, and underlaid with quicksands, the
danger is even greater, and the safest way is always to get across in a
boat at slack water. The Saruma Lake is about fifteen miles in length
and from two to three miles wide. Its water is salt, and large
oyster-banks are found in it. It is also a favourite resort for seal and
mallard. In winter they can be killed in great numbers, but in the
warmer months they are shy, and very difficult to approach. The
south-western shore of the lake is thickly wooded, and has as a
background a long range of high mountains with smaller mountains in
front of it.
At Tobuts, a small village of a few huts, situated at the mouth of the
Saruma lagoon, I halted for the night. There was a change in my diet
that day, and I was entertained, or rather I entertained myself, to an
oyster supper. They were enormous oysters, similar to those found at
Akkeshi, but not very palatable. However, I was in luck that day, and
not only did I have this oyster supper, but I actually was the hero of a
tender little idyll. In this country surprises never come alone, and
while I was sketching in the twilight to pass away the time, a tall slim
figure of a girl came out of one of the huts. She had slipped her arms
out of her robe, leaving the latter to hang from the girdle, and her
breasts, arms, and the lower half of her legs were uncovered. She was
pretty and quaint with her tattooed arms and a semicircular black spot
on her upper lip. She walked a few steps forward, and when she saw me
she stopped. She looked at me and I looked at her. Hers, with her soft
eyes, was one of those looks which a man feels right through his body,
notwithstanding all the self-control he may possess. There she stood, a
graceful silhouette, with a bucket made of tree-bark in one hand and a
vine-tree rope in the other, her supple figure almost motionless, and
her eyes fixed on me. She was the most lovely Ainu girl I had ever come
across, and not nearly so hairy as most of them. Indeed, in that soft
twilight, and her wavy long hair blown by the fresh breeze, she was a
perfect dream.
[Illustration: AN AINU BELLE.]
"Wakka!" ("Water!") cried an angry old voice from inside the hut,
interrupting the beginning of our romance, and she sadly went to the
brook, filled her bucket with water, and took it into the hut. It was
only a few seconds before she reappeared, and came closer, and I
finished the sketch somewhat hurriedly.
"Let me see the tattoo on your arm," I asked her, and to my surprise the
pretty maid took my hand in both her own, gave me one of those looks
that I shall never forget, and her head fell on my shoulder. She
clutched my hand tightly, and pressed it to her chest, and a force
stronger than myself brought her and myself to the neighbouring forest.
There we wandered and wandered till it grew very dark; we sat down, we
chattered, we made love to each other; then we returned. I would not
have mentioned this small episode if her ways of flirting had not been
so extraordinary and funny. Loving and biting went together with her.
She could not do the one without doing the other. As we sat on a stone
in the semi-darkness she began by gently biting my fingers, without
hurting me, as affectionate dogs often do to their masters; she then bit
my arm, then my shoulder, and when she had worked herself up into a
passion she put her arms round my neck and bit my cheeks. It was
undoubtedly a curious way of making love, and when I had been bitten all
over, and was pretty tired of the new sensation, we retired to our
respective homes.
In the evening, as I was writing my diary by the light of one of the
oyster-shell primitive lamps, somebody noiselessly crept by my side. I
turned my head round. It was she! She grew more and more sentimental as
it grew later, and she bestowed on me caresses and bites in profusion.
Kissing, apparently, was an unknown art to her. The old woman, in whose
house I was, slept soundly all through this, as old women generally do
on such occasions. By the mysterious light of the dying wick, casting
heavy shadows, which marked her features strongly, with her jet-black
wild hair fading away into the black background, with her passionate
eyes, and her round, statue-like arms, the girl was more like a strange
fairy than a human being.
I sketched her twice in pencil, and the wick--that wretched wick!--grew
feeble, and, for the lack of oil, began to dwindle away. I persuaded her
to return to her hut, and with a few "bites" my hairy maid and I parted.
The morning came, and I was up early. In the vicinity of the huts I
found three Koro-pok-kuru pits similar to those we have already seen;
and previous to arriving at Tobuts I also found a fort belonging to the
pre-Ainu race. From Tobuts, continuing my journey north, on the stretch
of sand between the water of the sea and that of the Saruma lake the
travelling was fairly easy but monotonous. The long chain of mountains
on the other side of the lake was magnificent in the morning light. For
twenty-two miles this went on; then I had to cross the Yubets River in
the picturesque spot where its waters divide before again uniting close
to the sea. North of this river there are three more lagoons--the
Komuki, the Shibumotzunai, and the Yassuchi, the first two of which have
direct estuaries into the sea, generally blocked by drift-sand, and both
are as dangerous as the Saruma lagoon when the water unexpectedly
overflows. Owing to the heavy rains on the mountains the level of the
lakes had risen considerably when I went through, and crossing the mouth
of the first in a flat-bottomed boat, I was nearly swamped. The Ainu who
was ferrying me across did not lose his presence of mind, and after a
long struggle and violent efforts we reached the opposite shore. Yubets
is a village of eighteen Ainu and three Japanese huts. The Ainu along
these shores are extremely hairy, and some of them have red beards,
while others are bald. Near some of their huts you may see cages where
foxes and eagles are kept in captivity.
The women, all the way to Soya Cape, the most northern point of Yezo,
have given up tattooing a long moustache and their arms. A small
semicircular spot, similar to the tattoo of the Shari women, is
nevertheless not uncommon. Bears, yellow and black, again are said to be
in huge quantities on the thickly-wooded mountains at the back of the
Saruma and other lagoons.
The coast is most desolate-looking. One may travel mile after mile
without seeing a hut or meeting a single human being. Now and then, when
I came to a lonely fisherman's hut, I was civilly treated; and, riding
from morn till night, I reached Shari Mombets, where there are forty
Ainu huts and about the same number of Japanese fishermen's shanties. It
has a small anchorage for small junks only; but, unfortunately, it is
not well protected, as the reef of rocks which runs in a north-east
direction does not extend far out to sea. I was roughly treated here at
first, for some Russian convicts, who had escaped from Sakhalin in an
open boat, had been drifted by the current down this coast, and
previously to my arrival had landed in the vicinity of this village.
They were half starved, and could not speak a word of the language. They
had no money and no clothes, and none of the natives seemed willing to
help them in any way. Now that the long-wished-for freedom was obtained
after years of servitude and chains, the four brave men, who had
suffered agonies for days, and had almost miraculously escaped death in
the treacherous currents of the Otkoshk Sea, were certainly not to be
outwitted by a handful of hard-hearted Japanese or by a pack of hairy
Ainu. They begged for food and could not obtain it, so they stole it,
and ill-treated some of the natives who interfered. They then
disappeared towards the south. When I put in an appearance, all alone
and almost in rags, leading and dragging my tired pony, it is not
astonishing that the first thing that struck them was that I must be
another escaped Russian, "or bad man from Krafto,"[34] as the Ainu
called me.
[34] _Krafto_, Ainu word for Sakhalin.
The reception I received was pretty stormy; but when I understood what
the matter was which caused the rioting, I set their minds at rest, and,
speaking in their own language, told them that the "bad men of Krafto"
were my enemies as well as theirs, and that, should I find them, I would
punish them. Not only that, but, to make them perfectly at ease, I gave
them some little present of money, which turned them at once into
friends. As to the Russian convicts, there was no possibility of my
finding them, for they were travelling towards the south from this
point, and I was moving towards the north, so I was perfectly safe in
passing myself off as a kind of supreme judge.
Shari Mombets is a miserable place. In the house where I put up I was
received by a young man, but the owner of the house did not show
himself. The next morning, however, as I gave much more money than they
expected, the landlord was brought to my room to thank me. The poor man
suffered from elephantiasis--the wretched disease by which the head and
all the limbs of the body assume gigantic proportions. His head was
swollen to more than twice its normal size, and had lost its shape; his
body was piteously deformed and inflated, his eyes nearly buried in
flesh. The weight of his head was such that the cervical vertebræ were
scarcely strong enough to support it erect; and when he bowed down in
Japanese fashion to thank me and bid me good-bye, I had to run to his
help, for he could not get up again. Poor man! And when we reflect that
in more civilised countries many people think themselves very ill and
suffering when they have a pimple on their nose, or a cold in their
head!
[Illustration: SARUMA LAGOON.]
[Illustration: AN EAGLE-DISPLAYED SABLE.]