SIGHTS AT ENOSHIMA.
The party was shown to a large room at the rear of the house. Frank
suggested that a front room would be preferable; but the Doctor told him
that in a Japanese hotel the rear of the establishment was the place of
honor, and that in a hundred hotels of the true national type he would
probably not be located half a dozen times in a front apartment. The
room where they were was very speedily divided into three smaller ones
by means of paper screens, such as we find in every Japanese house, and
which are known to most Americans in consequence of the large number
that have been imported in the last few years. They can be shifted with
the rapidity of scenes in a theatre, and the promptness with which the
whole appearance of a house can be changed in a few minutes is an
approach to the marvellous.
There is very little of what we call privacy in a Japanese house, as the
paper screens are no obstructors of sound, and a conversation in an
ordinary tone can be heard throughout the entire establishment. It is
said that this form of building was adopted at a time when the
government was very fearful of conspiracies, and wished to keep
everybody under its supervision. Down to quite recent times there was a
very complete system of espionage all over the country; and it used to
be said that when three persons were together, one of them was certain
to be a spy, and the other two were pretty sure to be spies as well. At
the time Commodore Perry went to Japan, it was the custom to set a spy
over every official to observe what he did and report accordingly. The
system has been gradually dropped, but it is said to exist yet in some
quarters.
It was rather late, and our party were hungry. Consequently the Doctor
ordered dinner to be served as soon as possible, and they sat down to
wait for it. The kitchen was near the entrance of the hotel, and in full
view of the strangers as they came in. Fred could not help contrasting
this arrangement with that of an American hotel, where the kitchen is
quite out of sight, and not one visitor in a thousand ever gets the
faintest glimpse of it. He thought the plan was well calculated to
insure cleanliness in the management of the house, since the kitchen,
being so prominently placed, would ruin the prosperity of the house if
it were not properly kept. As there seemed to be no objection to their
doing so, the boys went there and watched the preparation of the meal
for which their appetites were waiting.
[Illustration: A JAPANESE KITCHEN.]
They found a large and well-lighted room in the centre of the house;
and, as before stated, near the entrance. In the middle of this room
there was a raised platform, with some little furnaces set in the floor.
On this floor the cooking of some fish was going on under the
supervision of a woman, who was watching to see that everything
progressed satisfactorily. A few pots and pans were visible, but not a
tenth of the number that would be found in the kitchen of a hotel of
similar capacity in America. The Japanese cookery is not elaborate, and
therefore only a few articles are required for it. A small fire in a
brazier that could be carried in the hand is all that is needed to
offset the enormous ranges with which we are familiar. From the roof two
or three safes are hung for the preservation of such things as the dogs
and cats might take a fancy to. At first glance they are frequently
taken for bird-cages, and this mistake was made by Fred, who innocently
remarked that he wondered what kind of birds they kept there.
At one side of the kitchen there was a long table, where the food was
prepared previous to its introduction to the cooking-pot, and near this
table there was a series of shelves where the plates, cups, saucers, and
other articles of the dinner-service were kept. The kitchen could be
shut off at night, like the other rooms, by means of paper screens, and
it was here that the cook and her assistants slept when the labors of
the day were over. The bedding, what little there was of it, was brought
from a cupboard in one side of the room, and was altogether out of sight
in the day. When not wanted, it was speedily put away, and a few minutes
sufficed to convert the kitchen into a sleeping-room, or the
sleeping-room into a kitchen.
[Illustration: BOILING THE POT.]
In due time the dinner or supper, whichever it was called, was brought
to our travellers, and they lost no time in sitting down to eat it; or,
rather, they squatted to it, as the hotel contained no chairs, or any
substitute for them. The floor was covered with clean mats--in fact, it
is very difficult to find dirty mats in Japan--and our travellers had
followed the universal custom of removing their boots as they entered
the front door. One of the complaints that the Japanese make against
foreigners is that the latter often enter their houses without removing
their boots, no matter if those boots are covered with mud and bring
ruin to the neat mattings. It is always polite to offer to remove your
foot-covering on going inside a Japanese dwelling, and a rudeness to
neglect the offer. If the weather is dry and your shoes are clean, the
host will tell you to remain as you are, and then you will be quite
right to do so.
There was a laugh all around at the oddity of the situation in which the
boys found themselves. They tried various positions in front of the
little table that had been spread for them, but no attitude they could
assume was thoroughly comfortable. They squatted, they knelt, and then
they sat flat on the floor, but all to no purpose. They were
uncomfortable, and no mistake. But they had a merry time of it, and both
Fred and Frank declared they would not have missed this dinner in Japan
for a great deal. It was a novelty, and they thought their schoolmates
would envy them if they knew where they were.
The dinner consisted of stewed fish for the first course, and it was so
thoroughly stewed that it resembled a thick soup. Then they had cold
fish with grated radishes, and, finally, a composite dish of hard-boiled
eggs, cut in two, and mixed with shrimps and seaweed. The table was
cleared after each course before the next was brought, and the food was
served in shallow bowls, which were covered to retain the heat. At the
side of each person at table there were two cups. One of these contained
_soy_, a sort of vinegar flavored with spices of different kinds, and in
which each mouthful of food was dipped before it was swallowed. It is
said that our word "sauce" comes from the Japanese (or Chinese) word
which has just been quoted. The other cup was for sa-kee, a beverage
which has been already mentioned in the pages of this book. They were
not inclined to sa-kee; but the soy was to their taste, and Frank was
especially warm in its praise.
[Illustration: FRANK'S INVENTORY.]
Not liking sa-kee, they called for tea, and in a moment the servant
appeared with a steaming teapot. The flavor of the herb was delicious,
and the boys partook liberally of the preparation. While they were
engaged in tea-drinking, Frank made an inventory of the furniture of the
room for the benefit of his sister and Miss Effie, in case they should
wish to fit up a room in Japanese style to welcome him home. Here is
what he found:
No chairs, no sofas, no benches--nothing but the rush matting to sit
upon.
No clocks, no pictures on the walls, no mirrors; in fact, the room was
quite bare of ornament.
Two small tables, about twelve inches high and fifteen inches square.
These tables held the dinner and tea service, and were removed when the
meal was over.
A little low stool, on which was a broad and very flat pot for holding
hot water to put in the tea.
Another stool for holding anything that was not wanted at the moment.
A lamp-stand with three lamps. One was octagonal, and on the top of an
upright stick; the others were oval, and hung at the ends of a
horizontal bar of metal. Each lantern bore an inscription in Japanese.
It was painted on the paper of which all the lanterns were composed; and
as the light shone through, the letters were plainly to be seen. They
were more visible than readable to our friends, as may be readily
inferred.
This completed the furniture of the room. When it was removed after
dinner, Frank remarked that the only furniture remaining was Doctor
Bronson, Fred, and himself. And, as they were quite weary after their
ride, they were disposed to be as quiet as well-regulated furniture
usually is.
[Illustration: HOW THE JAPANESE SLEEP.]
When it was time to go to sleep, the servant was called and the beds
were made up. A thickly wadded quilt was spread on the floor for each
person, and another was used for the covering. The quilt was not quite
thick enough to take away all suggestion of hardness from the floor, and
the covering was not the most convenient one in the world. Frank said
that when the quilt was over him, he was altogether too warm, and when
it was off he was too cold. Fred declared that his experience was
exactly like that of Frank, except that it was more so. He had been
bitten by fleas during the night, and, as he couldn't speak Japanese, he
could not tell them to go away--at least, not in any language they would
understand. Then the walls of the room were thin, or, rather, there were
no walls at all. They had heard all the noises that the house afforded;
and, as pilgrims were coming and going all night, and some of those in
the building were engaged in a noisy game of an unknown character, sleep
was not easy. The boys were more weary after their night's rest than
before they took it, and they agreed that they could not recommend a
Japanese inn as the most quiet spot in the world. They rose very early,
and would have been up much sooner if there had been any way of getting
up.
[Illustration: A JAPANESE FISHING SCENE.]
They went down to the water-side to try the effects of a bath in the
surf as it rolled in from the Pacific Ocean. They found it refreshing,
and were tempted to linger long in the foam-crested waves. Near by there
was a fishing-place, where several Japanese were amusing themselves with
rod and line, just as American boys and men take pleasure in the same
way. Fish seemed to be abundant, as they were biting freely, and it took
but a short time to fill a basket. In the little harbor formed between
the island and the shore several junks and boats were at anchor, and in
the foreground some smaller boats were moving about. There was not an
American feature to the scene, and the boys were thoroughly delighted at
this perfect picture of Japanese life. It was sea-life, too; and they
had island and main, water and mountain, boats and houses, all in a
single glance.
The Japanese are great lovers of fish, and, fortunately for them, the
coasts and bays which indent the country are well provided with finny
life. The markets of Yokohama, Tokio, Osaka, and all the other great
cities of Japan are well supplied with fish, and the business of
catching them gives occupation to thousands of men. Many of the Japanese
are fond of raw fish which has been killed at the table, and is to be
eaten immediately. The fish is brought alive to the table; its eyes are
then gouged out, and strong vinegar is poured into the sockets. The
epicures say that this process gives a delicate flavor that can be
obtained in no other way; and they argue that the fish does not suffer
any more in this form of death than by the ordinary process of taking
him out of the water. But since the advent of foreigners in Japan, the
custom has somewhat fallen off, as the Japanese are quite sensitive to
the comments that have been made concerning their cruelty.
In the interior of Japan a traveller on the great roads, and on the
smaller ones too, will sometimes see a runner carrying a couple of open
pans, slung at the ends of a pole over his shoulder. He will observe
that these pans contain water, and that there is a single fish in each
pan. The man goes at a rapid pace, and keeps his eyes on his burden, to
make sure that the water is not spilled.
These runners are in the employ of the men who supply live fish for the
tables of those who live at a distance from the sea or from the lakes,
and are willing to pay for the luxury. A runner stands waiting, and the
instant the fish is in his charge he is off. If the distance is great,
there are relays of men stationed along the route; and so the precious
merchandise goes forward from one to the other without a moment's delay.
Only the wealthy can afford this mode of transporting fish, as the cost
is often very heavy. Some of the princes, in the olden time, were in the
habit of eating fresh fish at their tables every day that had been
brought in this way for a hundred and fifty miles. Great quantities of
fish are still carried in this primitive manner, but not for such long
distances as formerly. Many fish are transported on horseback, in
barrels of water; but the most delicate and valuable are borne only on
the shoulders of men, as the jolting of a horse will soon kill them.
[Illustration: "BREAKFAST IS READY."]
After their bath, the boys returned with the Doctor to their breakfast
in the hotel. The breakfast was almost identical with the dinner of the
previous evening; and as their appetites were not set so sharply, the
consumption of food was not so great. After breakfast they went on a
stroll through the streets of the town and up the sharp hill where it is
built. The shops along the streets were filled with curiosities, made
principally from shells and other marine products; and the Doctor said
he was forcibly reminded of Naples, Genoa, and other seaport places
along the Mediterranean. There were numerous conch-shells; and Fred was
desirous of blowing them, until told by the Doctor that they had
probably been blown by many of the Japanese pilgrims, and he would run
the risk of contracting some troublesome disease which had been left
from the sores on their lips. So the boys were cautious, and politely
rejected the invitation of the dealers to make a trial of the sonorous
qualities of their wares. They bought a few small shells and some
pieces of shell jewelry, which would be sure to please the girls at
home.
There are several small temples and shrines on the island, and the most
of them are in picturesque spots in the forest, or on crags that
overlook the sea. As they walked about they met parties of pilgrims on
their way to these shrines; and on the summit they found a shaded
resting-place, where some chairs had been set out on a cliff overlooking
the broad waters of the Pacific. Two or three servants were in
attendance, and our party thought they could not do better than stop
awhile and sip some of the fragrant tea of Japan. So they sat down, and
in a few moments the tea was before them. The tea-house was not a large
one, and, as Frank expressed it, the most of the house was out of doors
and under the shade of the trees.
As every one knows who has read about the country, Japan contains a
great many tea-houses, or places of rest and refreshment. They are to
Japan what the beer-hall is to Germany, the wine-shop to France, or the
whiskey-saloon to America, with the difference in their favor that they
are much more numerous, and patronized by all classes of people. The
first visitors to Japan came away with erroneous notions about the
character of the tea-house, and these errors have found their way into
books on the country and been repeated many times, to the great scandal
of the people of the empire of the Mikado. The truth is that the
tea-house is a perfectly reputable and correct place in nineteen cases
out of twenty. It may have a bad character in the twentieth instance,
just as there is now and then a hotel in New York or other city that is
the resort of thieves and various bad persons. Nearly all classes of
people in Japan, who can afford to do so, resort to the tea-houses,
either in the hot hours of the day or in the evening. One can purchase,
in addition to tea, a variety of light refreshments, and the building is
almost invariably well ventilated and prettily situated. A person may
sit in public if he wishes, or he may have one of the rooms partitioned
off for himself and be quite secluded. The rooms are made, as in the
hotels and other houses, by means of paper partitions, and can be formed
with great rapidity.
[Illustration: INTERIOR OF A TEA-GARDEN.]
At Tokio, Osaka, Kioto, and other large and wealthy cities many of the
tea-houses are so extensive that they take the name of gardens, and
cover large areas of ground. The attendants are invariably girls, and
the number is by no means niggardly. They are selected for their
intelligence and good-looks, as the business of the house depends
considerably upon the attractiveness of the servants. Their movements
are graceful, and a Japanese tea-house, with its bevy of attendants, is
no unpleasant sight. Foreigners in Japan are liberal patrons of the
tea-houses, and many a stranger has found a cordial welcome within the
walls of one of these popular establishments.
[Illustration: THE PATH IN ENOSHIMA.]
From the tea-house at the top of the hill, Doctor Bronson led the way
down a steep path to the sea. At the end of the path, and opening upon
the sea, there is a cavern which the Japanese consider sacred. Formerly
they would not allow a stranger to enter the cavern for fear of
polluting it; but at present they make no opposition, for the double
reason that they have found the cave remains as if nothing had happened,
and, moreover, the stranger is so willing to pay for the privilege of
exploration that a considerable sum is annually obtained from him. When
the tide is in, the cave can only be entered by means of a boat; but at
low-water one can creep along a narrow ledge of rock where a pathway has
been cut, which he can follow to the terminus. Our party engaged a guide
with torches, and were taken to the end of the cave, where they found a
hideous-looking idol that was the presiding divinity of the place. A
shrine had been erected here, and when it was lighted up the appearance
was fairly imposing. The pilgrims consider it a pious duty to visit this
shrine whenever they come to the island, and it has become quite famous
throughout Japan.
The boys were not inclined to stay long in the cave, as the sound of the
waters beating in at the entrance was almost deafening. They very soon
sought the open air, where a new entertainment awaited them. There was a
group of men and boys on the rocks at the entrance of the cavern, and
they called to the strangers to throw coins into the water and see how
soon they could be recovered by diving. Frank threw a small piece of
silver into the clear water of the Pacific, and in an instant half a
dozen boys sprang for it. One of them caught it before it reached the
bottom, and came up with the piece in his mouth. Several coins were
thrown, with a similar result; and finally it was proposed to let the
money reach the bottom before the divers started. This was done, and, as
the depth was about twelve feet, the work of finding the bit of silver
was not very easy. But it was found and brought to the surface; and
after the divers had been complimented on their skill, our friends moved
on. It is hardly necessary to add that the money thrown into the water
became the property of the youth who secured it; though it was rumored
that the divers were associated, and everything obtained went into a
common purse. The Oriental people are famous for their guilds, or labor
and trade associations, and nearly every occupation in life is under the
control of a guild, which has very arbitrary rules. It is not at all
impossible that the boys who dive for small coins at Enoshima are under
the control of an association, and that its rules and regulations may
have been in force for hundreds of years.
As the walk through the woods would have been fatiguing, and it was near
the middle of the day, when the sun was high and the heat severe, Doctor
Bronson engaged a boat to take the party back to the hotel. They
returned safely, and, after resting awhile, went on another walk, in a
direction slightly different from the first.
[Illustration: A GROUP OF JAPANESE LADIES.]
They soon found themselves among the huts of the fishermen, and the
quantity of fish that lay around in various stages of preparation told
that the business was not without prosperity. In a secluded part of the
island they came upon a pretty summer-house, where a wealthy citizen of
Tokio spent the hot months of the year. Through the gateway of the
garden they had a glimpse of a group of three ladies that were evidently
out for an airing. Frank thought he had never seen a prettier group in
all his life, and while he looked at them he whispered his opinion to
Fred.
Fred agreed with him, and then added, "I tell you what, Frank, we'll get
three dresses just like those, if they don't cost too much; and when we
get home, we'll have Miss Effie and your sister and my sister put them
on. Then we'll arrange the garden to look like that one as much as
possible, with a little furnace and teapot in front of the girls, and
the pedestal of a statue near them. Won't that be nice?"
Frank agreed that it would, and, lest he should forget the arrangement
of the group, he made a rough sketch of the scene, and said they could
rely upon photographs for the costumes and their colors. If they got the
dresses, the girls could easily arrange them with the aid of the
pictures.
When the sketch was finished, they returned to the hotel. The tide was
now out, and so the Doctor settled their account and they started for
Yokohama, following the most direct route, and making no halts for
sight-seeing. They arrived late in the evening, well pleased with their
excursion to Dai-Boots and Enoshima, and determined to give their
friends at home a full and faithful account of what they had seen and
learned.
[Illustration: SPECIMEN OF GROTESQUE DRAWING BY A JAPANESE ARTIST.]