A JOURNEY
It sometimes happened that Ki Pak, in performing his official duties,
was obliged to make long journeys to various parts of Korea. One of Yung
Pak's greatest pleasures was to listen to the stories which his father
used to tell him about these journeys.
When Ki Pak made one of these trips through the country he could not
ride on the cars as you do, for there were no railways, with puffing
engines and comfortable coaches; neither could he take a carriage drawn
by swift and strong horses, for they too were unknown by the Koreans.
Even if he had possessed horses and carriage, there were few roads over
which they could have been driven. Most of the highways were simply
rough paths, over which men usually travelled on foot or on the backs of
ponies up and down the hills of the country. It was generally necessary
to cross rivers by fording, though, where the water was too deep for
this, rude and clumsy ferry-boats were provided. Occasionally, over a
narrow stream, a frail footbridge would be built.
You can easily imagine Yung Pak's joy and surprise one day when his
father told him that he proposed to take his little son on his next
journey.
Ki Pak had been ordered by the king to go to Chang-an-sa, a city among
the Diamond Mountains, near the eastern coast of Korea, and about eighty
miles from Seoul. In this place was a famous monastery, or temple, which
would be an object of much interest and wonder to Yung Pak.
It was decided, also, that Wang Ken should be one of the party. He
would be able to explain to Yung Pak many things they might see on the
way.
There was much to do to get ready for the journey. It would take four
days to cover the distance, and, as hotels were unknown along the route,
it was necessary to take along a good supply of provisions, bedding,
cooking utensils, and all sorts of things they might need while absent
from home.
In addition to getting together all this material, ponies and drivers
had to be engaged. Sometimes, when Ki Pak went on short journeys, he was
carried in a chair by strong men, who by much practice had become able
to endure the fatigue of travel, and of bearing heavy burdens. This
chair was very different from the kind you have in your houses. Even a
comfortable rocker would not be very nice in which to take a long
journey.
The Korean traveller's chair consists of a boxlike frame, of such
height that one may sit within in Turkish fashion upon the floor. The
roof is of bamboo, covered with painted and oiled paper. The sides also
are covered with oiled paper or muslin. In some cases a small stained
glass window is set in the side or front, but only rich men can afford
this luxury. The curtain in front can be raised or lowered. This serves
the double purpose of shutting out the glances of the curious and
keeping out the cold air. When the owner can afford it, an ample supply
of cushions and shawls makes the clumsy vehicle more comfortable for its
occupant.
The chair rests upon two long poles, which hang by straps upon the
shoulders of four stout men. Under ordinary circumstances these men can
travel with their burden from twenty to thirty miles a day.
Sometimes, also, when Yung Pak's father went about the streets of
Seoul, he rode in a chair very similar to the one just described. The
only difference was that it rested on a framework attached to a single
wheel directly underneath. This cross between a wheelbarrow and a
sedan-chair was supported and trundled along the street by four bearers.
On this journey, however, Yung Pak and his companions were to ride on
ponies.
The Korean ponies are small, fine-coated animals, little larger than
Shetland ponies. They are very tough and strong, and can endure long
marches with little food. They are sometimes obstinate and are desperate
fighters, squealing and neighing on all occasions. They often attack
other ponies, and never become friendly with each other on a journey. In
their attacks upon one another loads are forgotten and often seriously
damaged. Notwithstanding, they bear with much patience a great deal of
abuse from unkind masters. Because of much beating and overloading,
they are generally a sorry-looking lot of animals.
Ki Pak had to engage ponies for himself, Yung Pak, and Wang Ken. He was
also obliged to employ a cook for the journey, who had to have a pony to
carry along the kettles and pans and other utensils. It was also
necessary to hire body-servants and several ponies to carry luggage, and
as each pony must have a _mapu_, or groom, it made quite a procession
when the party started out of Seoul on the journey to the northeast.
It was a fine day when the start was made. It was not early in the
morning, for, if there is anything a Korean hates to do, it is to make
an early start on a journey. If you had been in Yung Pak's place, you
would have gone crazy with impatience. The servants were late in
bringing around the ponies, and the process of loading them was a very
slow one.
But Yung Pak had long before learned to be patient under such
circumstances. In fact, he seemed to care little whether the start were
made in the morning or at noon. He calmly watched the servants at their
work, and, when at last all was declared ready, he gravely mounted his
pony and fell into the procession behind his father, with Wang Ken
immediately following.
A most comical sight was the cook, perched on top of his load of pans,
pots, and potatoes. As his pony trotted along with the others, it looked
as if the cook was in constant danger of a fall from his lofty seat, but
he sat as calm and unconcerned as one could imagine.
You would laugh if you should see the strings of eggs hanging across
this pony's back--yes, eggs. They were packed in bands of wheat straw,
and between each pair of eggs a straw was twisted. Thus a straw rope
enclosing twenty or more eggs, well protected, was made and thrown over
the top of the load.
Other riders had more comfortable seats, for most of the ponies carried
baggage in two wicker baskets,--one strapped upon each side,--and on top
of these was piled bedding and wadded clothing, which made a soft seat
for the rider.
The _mapus_ who accompanied the procession were dressed in short cotton
jackets, loose trousers, with sandals and cotton wrappings upon the
feet. They had to step lively to keep up with the ponies.
All the people in this company carried with them long garments made of
oiled paper. You have already learned that the Korean paper is very
tough, and when soaked with oil it forms a splendid protection against
the rain. Many of these garments had a very peculiar appearance, because
they were made of paper on which had been set copies for schoolboys to
use in learning to write.
As Yung Pak and his companions passed along the dirty streets of Seoul
toward a gate in the great wall, a curious crowd was attracted by the
unusual sight. This mob of men and boys were good-natured, but very
curious, and it gathered so close as to impede the progress of the
ponies. Moreover, a watchful eye had to be kept on all the luggage, lest
some over-covetous person might steal the provisions and supplies on the
ponies' backs.
Notwithstanding the slow progress made by Ki Pak's company, it took only
a short time to pass through the narrow streets and out by the great
gate, leaving behind the noisy mob of men and boys who had followed them
to the city's wall.
Once outside, upon the road which wound around and over the high hills
that surround the city, the pure country air seemed very sweet and
refreshing to Yung Pak, who knew nothing of life outside Seoul. This was
his first journey into the country, and the many strange sights drew
exclamations of surprise and wonder from him. The green waving grass and
swaying foliage of the trees were ever new sources of joy and pleasure,
and the delicate odours which the breezes bore to his sensitive nostrils
were refreshing and life-giving.
Among the strange sights which attracted Yung Pak's attention, as they
rode along through the country, were some very curious figures erected
by the roadside. These were posts, one side of which was roughly planed.
On the upper part of each of these posts was a rude carving of a hideous
human face with prominent teeth. The cheeks and teeth were slightly
coloured. A most fiendish appearance was presented by these figures,
called by the Koreans _syou-sal-mak-i_, and if looks counted for
anything, they ought well to serve their purpose,--the scaring away of
evil spirits from the village near which the figures always stood. The
mile-posts, or _fjang-seung_, along the way were often similarly
decorated.
[Illustration: "ON THE UPPER PART OF EACH OF THESE POSTS WAS A RUDE
CARVING"]
Another curiosity by the wayside which led to wonder on Yung Pak's part
was an old trunk of a tall tree. For about thirty feet from the ground
this was painted in coloured stripes very much like a barber's pole. The
top and branches of the tree had been trimmed off, and the upper end was
rudely carved in a shape representing a dragon with a forked tail. From
the head, which resembled that of an alligator, hung various cords, to
which were attached small brass bells and a wooden fish. Wang Ken told
Yung Pak that this was a monument to some famous Korean "doctor of
literature."
On the first day's journey toward Chang-an-sa the party made good
progress. The plan was to get to Yong-pyöng, about twenty miles from
Seoul, before nightfall. To you this would seem a short day's journey,
but when it is remembered that many of the servants were on foot, and
that the little ponies were heavily loaded, it does not seem so strange
that more ground could not be covered in one day. In addition, in many
places the roads were poor, though in the valleys there was a smooth
bottom where the sand had washed down from the hills.
On some of these hillsides little villages were perched. Yung Pak
noticed that on the upper side of each of these hill-towns was a
moon-shaped wall.
"What is that wall for?" he asked Wang Ken as they passed one.
"That protects the village in time of rainstorms," replied the tutor.
"The soil here is of such a nature that it easily washes away, and if
the town were unprotected the earth would soon be swept from beneath the
houses. If you will look sharply, you will see outside the wall a deep
trench which carries off the rushing water."
As they were slowly riding along a road which wound around and over a
high hill Yung Pak still kept his eyes wide open for strange sights.
Suddenly he lifted his arm, and, pointing toward a tree upon a little
hill at one side of the road, he said to Wang Ken:
"Oh, what a queer-looking tree that is! And are not those strange leaves
on it? What kind of a tree is it, anyway?"
"Ha, ha!" laughed Wang Ken, "I don't wonder that you call that a
strange-looking tree. Let's take a walk up to it and get a closer view."
So the ponies were halted, and down sprang Yung Pak and Wang Ken.
Leaving the ponies in charge of the _mapus_, they marched up the hill to
get a nearer sight of the tree.
"Why," said the boy, as they approached it, "those are not leaves that
we saw from the road, but they are rags and strips of cloth. It looks as
if some one had hung out their clothes to dry and forgotten to take them
in again. What does it all mean?"
"That tree, my boy," Wang Ken replied, "is called the sacred devil-tree.
That is a queer combination of names, but you know there are a lot of
ignorant people in our country who are very superstitious. They believe
in all sorts of evil and good spirits. They think these spirits watch
every act of their lives. Consequently they do all they can to please
the good spirits and to drive away the evil ones. This tree they believe
has power to keep off the bad spirits, so every man who thinks that a
demon has possession of him tears a piece of cloth from his garment and
carefully ties it to a branch. That is how all these strips you see come
to be hanging above you. Some have hung there so long that the wind and
rain have torn them to rags."
"Yes, but why is this done?" asked Yung Pak.
"Because," was the reply, "a man who is possessed by an evil spirit
thinks that by thus tying a part of his clothing to the tree he may
induce the spirit to attach himself to it instead of to his own person."
Yung Pak's curiosity satisfied, they returned to the road, mounted their
ponies, and quickly caught up with the rest of the party.
No further incidents of special importance marked this first day's
journey, and shortly before nightfall they arrived at the town of
Yong-pyöng. They found the village inn to be a series of low, small
buildings built on three sides of a courtyard. Into low sheds in this
yard the ponies were crowded and the luggage removed from their backs.
Ki Pak's servants proceeded to build a fire in the centre of the yard
and the cook made preparations for getting supper. Travellers had to
provide a large part of their own meals, for, as already stated, these
village inns were not hotels in the real sense of the word. They were
simply rude lodging-places where travellers might be protected from the
night air and have a chance to sleep while passing through the country.
Into the main waiting-room of the inn Yung Pak, with his father and
tutor, entered. At the door they removed their shoes and left them
outside. In the room were several other travellers seated upon the
floor, which was covered with oiled paper and grass mats. There was
absolutely no furniture. The walls were covered with clean white paper.
Each man in the room was smoking a pipe, which consisted of a brass bowl
and a reed stem over three feet long. All wore long white robes, though
one of the occupants had hung his hat upon the wall.
Into this room after a time the cook brought supper for his masters.
Other servants brought in boxes which were used as tables, and though
the style was not just what Yung Pak was used to, he managed to eat a
hearty meal. The day in the open air had given him a hunger and a zest
he rarely knew.
After supper, for a short time Yung Pak and Wang Ken talked over with Ki
Pak the events of the day. A servant soon announced that their
sleeping-rooms were ready, and they gladly at once sought their beds. To
get to their rooms they again stepped out into the courtyard. They found
that each bedroom was one of the little buildings facing the yard. Yung
Pak and Wang Ken occupied one room, while Ki Pak had a room by himself.
Through a narrow door about three feet high the lad and his tutor
entered their room. The door was simply a lattice shutter covered with
paper. The room was very small,--barely space for the two mattresses
which had been put there by the servants, and the ceiling was so low
that even the short Koreans could hardly stand upright. Yet here our two
friends managed to make themselves very comfortable for the night.
Outside in the courtyard the fire was kept burning, beside which two
watchmen sat all night smoking and telling stories. It was necessary to
maintain a watch till morning because the country districts of Korea are
infested with wild animals, particularly tigers, and the bright blaze of
the fire served to keep them at a distance. Otherwise the thin-walled
houses would have been slight protection for the sleeping travellers.
As it was, Yung Pak slept soundly the whole night, and did not awake
until after daylight, when servants brought to his door a wooden bowl
and a brass vessel full of water for his morning bath. Quickly he sprang
up, and with his companions made ready for the day's journey, for they
were all anxious to be on their way.
[Illustration: "THE DAY WAS PASSED IN MUCH THE SAME MANNER AS THE
PRECEDING ONE"]
Breakfast was served in much the same manner as the supper of the
previous evening had been. Of this meal all heartily partook, for a
Korean is never guilty of having a poor appetite.
As usual, it took a long time to get the ponies properly loaded and
ready to start, and the forenoon was about half-gone when the procession
finally left the courtyard of the inn.
A twenty-mile march would bring the party to Rang-chyön, where it was
proposed to spend the second night of the journey.
The day was passed in much the same manner as the preceding one, though
of course new scenes proved ever interesting to Yung Pak. During this
day the party had to cross a river which was too deep to ford, and over
which there was no sort of bridge. For the assistance of travellers a
ferry-boat had been provided. This boat was a broad, flat-bottomed,
clumsy affair. It could carry but three ponies at a time, with several
men. The men in charge of the boat were slow and obstinate, and
consequently it took a long time for all to get across the river.
It was right here that an unfortunate, yet laughable, accident occurred.
As on the preceding day, the cook rode perched upon his pony's load of
kettles, pans, and pots. When riding along a good road his position was
precarious enough, requiring all his best efforts to maintain his
balance.
When his turn came to go upon the ferry-boat, Ki Pak advised him to
dismount and lead his pony across the plank which covered the watery
space between the bank of the river and the boat. But the cook was an
obstinate Korean, as well as a trifle lazy, and refused to get down,
thinking he could safely drive his beast across the gang-plank.
Ordinarily this would have been possible, but on this particular
occasion, just as the pony stepped upon the plank, the boat gave a
lurch, the plank slipped, and overboard went pony, cook, and all. For a
few moments there was enough bustle and excitement to suit any one.
Fortunately, the water was not deep, and quickly the drenched animal and
man were pulled from the water. The only permanent harm was to some of
the provisions that were a part of the pony's load. The cook was a wiser
as well as a wet man, and made up his mind that the next time he would
heed the advice to dismount when boarding a ferry-boat.
The day's journey was completed without further special incident, and at
night they rested in the inn at Rang-chyön under conditions much the
same as at Yong-pyöng.
The third day's journey brought the company to Kewen-syong. On the way
thither Yung Pak was much interested in the sights of the country, which
grew wilder and more strange the farther they got from Seoul. On this
day numerous highwaymen were met, but they dared not molest the
travellers on account of the large number in the party.
The cabins along the country roads were a continual source of curiosity
to Yung Pak. They were built of mud, without windows, and no door except
a screen of cords. In nearly every doorway would be sitting a man,
smoking a long-stemmed pipe, who looked with wide-open eyes at the
unusual procession passing his house.
Of course all the men who lived in these country cabins were farmers,
and Yung Pak liked to watch them as they worked in their fields, for to
the city-bred boy this is always an entrancing sight. What seemed most
curious to him was the fact that women were also at work in the fields.
At his home the women of the family nearly always stayed in their own
apartments, and when they did go out always went heavily veiled. These
country women not only assisted in the farm work, but they had to do all
the spinning and weaving for the family, in addition to usual household
cares.
Wang Ken was able to tell Yung Pak much about country life, for, like
most of the school-masters of Korea, he was himself a farmer's son. He
told how the Korean farmer lived a simple, patient life, while at the
same time he was ignorant and superstitious. He believed in demons,
spirits, and dragons, and in nearly every house were idols in honour of
the imaginary deities.
Pigs and bulls are the chief animals on Korean farms. The latter are
used as beasts of burden, though occasionally a more prosperous man may
own a pony or a donkey. The farming tools are extremely rude and simple,
thus necessitating the labour of several men or women where one man
could do the work with good tools.
While travelling along Yung Pak met several hunters. They were not an
uncommon sight on the streets of Seoul. When in the city they wore a
rough felt conical hat and dark blue cotton robe. The garments were ugly
in appearance and inconvenient. When the hunters were after game the
robe was discarded, and its place taken by a short wadded jacket, its
sleeves bound around the arms over wadded cuffs which reached from wrist
to elbow. In a similar way the trousers were bound to the calf of the
hunter's leg, and light straw sandals over a long piece of cotton cloth
were strapped to the feet and ankles. A huge string game-bag was slung
over his back, and in an antelope's horn or a crane's bill bullets were
carried. Powder was kept dry in a tortoise-shaped case of leather or
oiled paper.
Yung Pak's father would have been glad to have taken time for seeking
game with some of these hunters, but the business of his trip prevented
any unnecessary delay on the journey.