THE ASCENT OF FUSIYAMA.
They did not get far from Odiwara before it was necessary to leave the
jin-riki-shas and take to the cangos. These were found waiting for them
where the road ended and the footpath began, and the boys were delighted
at the change from the one mode of conveyance to the other. Doctor
Bronson did not seem to share their enthusiasm, as he had been in a
cango before and did not care for additional experience. He said that
cango travelling was very much like eating crow--a man might do it if he
tried, but he was not very likely to "hanker after it."
[Illustration: TRAVELLING BY CANGO.]
It required some time for them to get properly stowed in their new
conveyances, as they needed considerable instruction to know how to
double their legs beneath them. And even when they knew how, it was not
easy to make their limbs curl into the proper positions and feel at
home. Frank thought it would be very nice if he could unscrew his legs
and put them on the top of the cango, where he was expected to place his
boots; and Fred declared that if he could not do that, the next best
thing would be to have legs of India-rubber. The cango is a box of light
bamboo, with curtains that can be kept up or down, according to one's
pleasure. The seat is so small that you must curl up in a way very
uncomfortable for an American, but not at all inconvenient for a
Japanese. It has a cushion, on which the traveller sits, and the top is
so low that it is impossible to maintain an erect position. It has been
in use for hundreds of years in Japan, and is not a great remove from
the palanquin of India, though less comfortable. The body of the machine
is slung from a pole, and this pole is upheld by a couple of coolies.
The men move at a walk, and every few hundred feet they stop, rest the
pole on their staffs, and shift from one shoulder to the other. This
resting is a ticklish thing for the traveller, as the cango sways from
side to side, and gives an intimation that it is liable to fall to the
ground. It does fall sometimes, and the principal consolation in such an
event is that it does not have far to go.
[Illustration: JAPANESE NORIMON.]
A more aristocratic vehicle of this kind is the norimon. The norimon is
larger than the cango, and is completely closed in at the sides, so that
it may be taken as a faint imitation of our covered carriages. The
princes of Japan used to travel in norimons; and they are still employed
in some parts of the empire, though becoming less and less common every
year. The norimon has four bearers, instead of two, and, consequently,
there is much more dignity attached to its use. The rate of progress is
about the same as with the cango, and after several hours in one of them
a foreigner feels very much as if he were a sardine and had been packed
away in a can. It was always considered a high honor to be the bearer of
a princely personage; and when the great man came out in state, with his
army of retainers to keep the road properly cleared, the procession was
an imposing one. The style and decorations of the norimon were made to
correspond with the rank of the owner, and his coat-of-arms was painted
on the outside, just as one may see the coats-of-arms on private
carriages in London or Paris. When a prince or other great man expected
a distinguished visitor, he used to send his private norimon out a short
distance on the road to meet him.
[Illustration: FRANK'S POSITION.]
The boys tried all possible positions in the cangos, in the hope of
finding some way that was comfortable. Frank finally settled down into
what he pronounced the least uncomfortable mode of riding, and Fred soon
followed his example. They had taken open cangos, so as to see as much
of the country as possible and have the advantage of whatever air was in
circulation; and but for the inconvenience to their lower limbs, they
would have found it capital fun. Frank doubled himself so that his feet
were as high as his head; he gave his hat into the care of the
conductor, and replaced it with a cloth covering, so that he looked not
much unlike a native. His bearers found him rather unwieldy, as he
frequently moved about, and thus disturbed the equilibrium of the load.
To ride properly in a cango or a norimon, one should not move a muscle
from the time he enters till he leaves the vehicle. This may do for the
phlegmatic Oriental, but is torture for a foreigner, and especially for
an American.
Doctor Bronson was a tall man, and could not fold himself with as much
facility as could the more supple youths. He rode a mile or so and then
got out and walked; and he continued thus to alternate as long as they
were travelling in this way. He was emphatic in declaring that the way
to ride in a cango and enjoy it thoroughly was to walk behind it, and
let somebody else take the inside of the vehicle.
Their journey brought them to Hakone, which has long been a favorite
summer resort of the Japanese, and of late years is much patronized by
foreigners. Those who can afford the time go there from Yokohama, Tokio,
and other open ports of Japan; and during July and August there is quite
a collection of English and Americans, and of other foreign
nationalities. The missionaries, who have been worn down and broken in
health by their exhaustive labors in the seaports during the winter,
find relief and recuperation at Hakone as the summer comes on. There
they gather new strength for their toils by breathing the pure air of
the mountains and climbing the rugged paths, and they have abundant
opportunities for doing good among the natives that reside there.
[Illustration: HOT BATH IN THE MOUNTAINS.]
Before reaching Hakone it was necessary to traverse a mountain pass, by
ascending a very steep road to the summit and then descending another.
In the wildest part of the mountains they came to a little village,
which has a considerable fame for its hot springs. The boys had a fancy
to bathe in these springs, and, as the coolies needed a little rest
after their toilsome walk, it was agreed to halt awhile. There were
several of the springs, and the water was gathered in pools, which had
a very inviting appearance and increased the desire of our friends to
try them. They went into one of the small rooms provided for the
purpose, removed their clothing, and then plunged in simultaneously.
They came out instantly, and without any request to do so by the Doctor,
who stood laughing at the edge of the pool. For their skins the water
was almost scalding-hot, though it was far otherwise to the Japanese.
The Japanese are very fond of hot baths, and will bathe in water of a
temperature so high that a foreigner cannot endure it except after long
practice. The baths here in the mountains were just suited to the native
taste; and Frank said they would be suited to his taste as well if they
could have a few blocks of ice thrown into them.
[Illustration: A JAPANESE BATH.]
Public and private baths are probably more numerous in Japan than in any
other country. The qualities of most of the natural sources are well
known, and thousands flock to them every year to be cured of real or
imaginary maladies. The country contains a great number of these
springs; and, since the arrival of foreigners, and a careful analysis of
the waters, certain properties have been discovered that were not known
before. In some cases the curative powers of the Japanese springs are
remarkable, and it has been predicted that patients will one day come to
Japan from distant lands to be healed.
[Illustration: THE LAKE OF HAKONE.]
The Lake of Hakone is a beautiful sheet of water, not unlike Lake
Tahoe in California--an aquatic gem in a setting of rugged mountains.
These are not lofty, like the mountains of the Golden State, so far as
their elevation above the lake is concerned; but they rise directly from
the water, and present nearly everywhere a bold frontage. The surface of
the lake is said to be more than six thousand feet above the level of
the sea; and the water is clear and cold. Our young friends tried a bath
in the lake, and found it as inconveniently cold as the springs had been
inconveniently warm. "Some people are never satisfied," said Fred, when
Frank was complaining about the temperature of the water in the lake.
"You wouldn't be contented with the springs because they boiled you, and
now you say the lake freezes you. Perhaps we'll find something by-and-by
that will come to the point."
The boys had observed that the farther they penetrated from Yokohama and
Tokio, the less did they find the people affected in their dress and
manners by the presence of the foreigners. Particularly was this the
case with the women. They had seen in the open ports a good many women
with blackened teeth; and the farther they went inland, the greater did
they find the proportion of the fair sex who had thus disfigured
themselves. So at the first opportunity they asked the Doctor about the
custom.
"I know," said Frank, "that it is the married women that blacken their
teeth; but how does it happen that there are so many more married ones
here than on the shores of Yeddo Bay?"
"You are wrong there," answered the Doctor; "there is probably as large
a proportion of married women in the one region as in the other. The
difference is that the custom is rapidly falling off."
"Is there any law about it?" Fred inquired.
"Not in the least," Doctor Bronson explained. "It is an old custom for
married women to blacken their teeth, and formerly it was most rigidly
observed; but of late years, since the foreigners came to Japan, it has
not been adhered to. The Japanese see that a married woman can get along
without having her teeth discolored, and as they are inclined to fall
into the customs of Europe, the most progressive of them not only
permit, but require, their wives to keep their teeth white."
"That is one point," said Frank, "in which I think the Japanese have
gained by adopting the European custom. I don't think it improves their
appearance to put on European clothes instead of their own; but when it
comes to this habit of blackening the teeth, it is absolutely hideous."
From this assertion there was no dissent. Then the question naturally
arose, "How is the operation performed?"
Doctor Bronson explained that it was done by means of a black paint or
varnish, peculiar to Japan. The paint was rubbed on the teeth with a rag
or stiff brush, and made the gums very sore at first. It remained quite
bright and distinct for the first few days, but in the course of a week
it faded, and by the end of ten or twelve days a renewal was necessary.
If left to itself, the coloring would disappear altogether within a
month from the time of its application.
Frank wished to know if the women were desirous of having the custom
abolished, but on this point it was not easy for him to obtain precise
information. The Doctor thought it was a matter of individual rather
than of general preference, and that the views of the women were largely
influenced by those of their husbands. "The Japanese wives," said he,
"are like the wives of most other countries, and generally wish to do
according to the tastes and desires of their husbands. As you grow older
you will find that the women of all lands endeavor to suit their modes
of dressing and adornment to the wishes of the men with whom they come
mostly in contact; of course, there are individual exceptions, but they
do not weaken the force of the general rule. In America as in England,
in China as in Japan, in India as in Peru, it is the fancy of the men
that governs the dress and personal decoration of the other half of the
race. As long as it was the fashion to blacken the teeth in this
country, the women did it without a murmur; but as soon as the men
showed a willingness for them to discontinue the practice, and
especially when that willingness became a desire, they began to
discontinue it. Twenty years from this time, I imagine, the women with
blackened teeth will be less numerous than those at present with white
ones.
"The abandonment of the custom began in the open ports, and is spreading
through the country. It will spread in exactly the same ratio as Japan
adopts other customs and ways of the rest of the world; and as fast as
she takes on our Western civilization, just so fast will she drop such
of her forms as are antagonistic to it."
[Illustration: ANTICS OF THE HORSES.]
The party rested a portion of a day at Hakone, and then went on their
way. Travelling by cango had become so wearisome that they engaged a
horse-train for a part of the way, and had themselves and their baggage
carried on the backs of Japanese steeds. They found this an improvement
on the old plan, though the horses were rather more unruly than the
cango coolies, and frequently made a serious disturbance. Occasionally,
when the train was ready to start, the beasts would indulge in a general
kicking-match all around, to the great detriment of their burdens,
whether animate or otherwise. The best and gentlest horses had been
selected for riding, and consequently the greatest amount of circus
performances was with the baggage animals. The grooms had all they
wished to attend to to keep the beasts under subjection, and not
infrequently they came out of the contest with gashes and other
blemishes on their variegated skins. But they showed great courage in
contending with the vicious brutes, and it is said of a Japanese betto
that he will fearlessly attack the most ill-tempered horse in the
country, and not be satisfied till he has conquered him.
There are several populous towns between Hakone and the base of
Fusiyama. Among them may be mentioned Missimi, Noomads, and Harra, none
of them containing any features of special importance after the other
places our friends had seen. Consequently our party did not halt there
any longer than was necessary for the ordinary demands of the journey,
but pushed on to the foot of the Holy Peak. As they approached it they
met many pilgrims returning from the ascent, and their general
appearance of fatigue did not hold out a cheering prospect to the
excursionists. But they had come with the determination to make the
journey to the summit of the mountain, and were not to be frightened at
trifles. They were full of enthusiasm, for the great mountain showed
more distinctly every hour as they approached it, and its enormous and
symmetrical cone was pushed far up into the sky, and literally pierced
the clouds. At times the clouds blew away; the sunlight streamed full
upon the lofty mass of ever-during stone, and seemed to warm it into a
tropical heat. But the snow lying unmelted in the ravines dispelled the
illusion, and they knew that they must encounter chilling winds, and
perhaps biting frosts, as they ascended to the higher altitudes.
[Illustration: A NEAR VIEW OF FUSIYAMA.]
There lay the great Fusiyama, the holy mountain of Japan, which they
had come so many thousand miles to see. In the afternoon the clouds
rolled at its base, but the cone, barren as a hill in the great desert,
was uncovered, and all the huge furrows of its sloping sides were
distinctly to be seen. Close at hand were forests of the beautiful cedar
of Japan, fields of waving corn, and other products of agriculture. Not
far off were the waters of the bay that sweeps in from the ocean to near
the base of the famous landmark for the mariners who approach this part
of the coast. Now and then the wind brought to their ears the roar of
the breakers, as they crashed upon the rocks, or rolled along the open
stretches of sandy beach.
[Illustration: IN A STORM NEAR FUSIYAMA.]
Hitherto they had been favored by the weather, but now a rain came on
that threatened to detain them for an indefinite period. It blew in
sharp gusts that sometimes seemed ready to lift the roof from the house
where they were lodged. The conductor explained that these storms were
frequent at the base of the mountain, and were supposed by the ignorant
and superstitions inhabitants of the region to be the exhibition of the
displeasure of the deities of Fusiyama in consequence of something that
had been done by those who professed to worship them. "When the gods are
angry," said he, "we have storms, and when they are in good-humor we
have fair weather. If it is very fine, we know they are happy; and when
the clouds begin to gather, we know something is wrong, and it depends
upon the amount of sacrifices and prayers that we offer whether the
clouds clear away without a storm or not."
Near the foot of the mountain there are several monasteries, where the
pilgrims are lodged and cared for when making their religious visits to
the God of Fusiyama. Some of these are of considerable importance, and
are far from uncomfortable as places of residence. Our party spent the
night at one of these monastic settlements, which was called Muriyama,
and was the last inhabited spot on the road. And as they were
considerably fatigued by the ride, and a day more or less in their
journey would not make any material difference, they wisely concluded to
halt until the second morning, so as to have all their forces fully
restored. Frank said, "This day doesn't count, as we are to do nothing
but rest; and if we want to rest, we must not see anything." So they did
not try to see anything; but the Doctor was careful to make sure that
their conductor made all the necessary preparations for the ascent.
Early on the second morning after their arrival, they started for the
final effort. They rode their horses as far as the way was practicable,
and then proceeded on foot. Their baggage was mostly left in charge of
the grooms to await their return, and such provisions and articles as
they needed were carried by "yamabooshees," or "men of the mountain,"
whose special business it is to accompany travellers to the summit, and
to aid them where the way is bad, or in case they become weary. If a
person chooses, he may be carried all the way to the top of the mountain
and back again; but such an arrangement was not to the taste of our
robust adventurers. They were determined to walk, and walk they did, in
spite of the entreaties of the coolies who wanted to earn something by
transporting them. In addition to the yamabooshees, they had an escort
of two "yoboos," or priests, from one of the temples. These men were not
expected to carry burdens, but simply to serve as guides, as they were
thoroughly familiar with the road and knew all its peculiarities.
The first part of their way was through a forest, but, as they ascended,
the trees became smaller and fewer, and their character changed. At the
base there were pines and oaks, but they gradually made way for beeches
and birches, the latter being the last because the hardiest. From the
forest they emerged upon the region of barren rock and earth and the
fragments left by the eruptions of the volcano. The last eruption took
place in 1707, and there have been few signs of any intention of
returning activity since that date. But all around there are abundant
traces of what the mountain was when it poured out its floods of lava
and covered large areas with desolation. In some places the heaps of
scoriæ appear as though the eruption, whence they came, had been but a
week ago, as they are above the line of vegetation, and their character
is such that they undergo hardly any change from the elements from one
century to another.
This part of Japan, and, in fact, the whole of Japan, has a good deal of
volcanic fire pent up beneath it. Earthquakes are of frequent
occurrence, and sometimes they are very destructive; whole towns have
been destroyed by them, and as for the little ones that do no material
damage, but simply give things a general shaking-up, they are so
frequent as to be hardly noticeable. That there is an underground
relation between the disturbances in different parts of the country is
evident, and the tradition is that at the time of the last eruption of
Fusiyama the ground rose considerably in the vicinity of the mountain,
while there was a corresponding depression of the earth near Kioto, on
the other side of the island. Occasionally there are slight rumblings in
the interior of Fusiyama, but none of them are serious enough to excite
any alarm.
From the place where our friends left their horses to the summit the
distance is said to be not far from twenty miles, but it is not exactly
the equivalent of twenty miles on a level turnpike or a paved street.
Frank said it reminded him of a very muddy road somewhere in California,
which a traveller described as nine miles long, ten feet wide, and three
feet deep; and he thought a fair description of the way up the mountain
would include the height and roughness as well as the length.
[Illustration: ASCENT OF FUSIYAMA.]
The path wound among the rocks and scoriæ, and through the beds of lava.
Altogether they found the ascent a most trying one, and sometimes half
wished that they had left the visit to Fusiyama out of their
calculations when they were planning how to use their time in Japan. But
it was too late to turn back now, and they kept on and on, encouraging
each other with cheering words, stopping frequently to take breath and
to look at the wonderful panorama that was unfolded to their gaze. The
air grew light and lighter as they went on, and by-and-by the periods
when they halted, panting and half suffocated, became as long as those
devoted to climbing. They experienced the same difficulty that all
travellers encounter at high elevations, and Fred remembered what he had
read of Humboldt's ascent of the high peaks of the Andes, where the
lungs seemed ready to burst and the blood spurted from the faces of
himself and his companions in consequence of the rarity of the
atmosphere.
About every two miles along the way they found little huts or caves,
partly dug in the mass of volcanic rubbish, and partly built up, with
roofs to protect the interior from the rain. These were intended as
refuges for the pilgrims for passing the night or resting during storms,
and had no doubt been of great service to those who preceded them. At
one of these they halted for luncheon, which they took from the pack
of one of their bearers, and later on they halted at another to pass the
night. It is considered too great a journey to be made in a single day,
except by persons of unusual vigor and long accustomed to
mountain-climbing. The customary plan is to pass a night on the mountain
when little more than half way up, and then to finish the ascent, and
make the whole of the descent on the second day.
It was cold that night in the upper air, and there was a strong wind
blowing that chilled our young friends to the bone. The sleeping
accommodations were not of the best, as there were no beds, and they had
nothing but the rugs and shawls they had brought along from the foot of
the mountain. Fred asked if there was any danger of their being
disturbed by tigers or snakes, and was speedily reassured by Frank, who
thought that any well-educated beast or serpent would never undertake a
pilgrimage to the top of Fusiyama; and if one should have strayed as far
as their resting-place, he would be too much played out to attend to any
business. But though large game did not abound, there was plenty of a
smaller kind, as they found before they had been ten minutes in the
huts. Previous visitors had left a large and well-selected assortment of
fleas, for which they had no further use, and their activity indicated
that they had been for some time without food. They made things lively
for the strangers, and what with chilling winds, hard beds, cramped
quarters, and the voracity of the permanent inhabitants of the place,
there was little sleep in that hut during the time of their stay.
They were up before daylight, and, while the coffee was boiling, the
boys watched the approach of morning. They looked far out over the
waters of the Pacific, to where a thin line of light was curving around
the rim of the horizon. At first it was so faint that it took a sharp
eye to discover it, but as they watched and as the day advanced it grew
more and more distinct, till it rounded out like a segment of the great
circle engirdling the globe. The gleam of light became a glow that
seemed to warm the waters of the shimmering ocean and flash a message of
friendship from their home in another land; the heavens became purple,
then scarlet, then golden, and gradually changed to the whiteness of
silver. Far beneath them floated the fleecy clouds, and far beneath
these were the hills of Hakone and the surrounding plain. Land and sea
were spread as in a picture, and the world seemed to be lying at their
feet. The boys stood spellbound and silent as they watched the opening
day from the heights of Fusiyama, and finally exclaimed in a breath that
they were doubly paid for all the fatigue they had passed through in
their journey thus far.
The light breakfast was taken, and the adventurers moved on. At each
step the way grew more and more difficult. Every mile was steeper than
its predecessor, and in many instances it was rougher. The rarefaction
of the air increased, and rendered the work of breathing more and more
severe. The travellers panted like frightened deer, and their lungs
seemed to gain little relief from the rest that the Doctor and his young
friends were compelled to take at frequent intervals. The last of the
huts of refuge was passed, and it seemed only a short distance to the
summit. But it required more than an hour's effort to accomplish this
final stage. The boys refused all offers of assistance, and struggled
manfully on; but Doctor Branson was less confident of his powers, and
was glad of the aid of the strong-limbed and strong-handed yamabooshees.
All were glad enough to stand on the summit and gaze into the deep gulf
of the crater, while their brows were cooled by the clear breezes from
the Pacific. They were at the top of Fusiyama, 14,000 feet above the
level of the ocean that lay so far below them, eighty miles from their
starting-point at Yokohama, and their vision swept an area of the
surface of the earth nearly two hundred miles in diameter. East and
south lay the broad ocean. West and north was the wondrous land of
Japan, a carpet of billowy green, roughened here and there with wooded
hills and small mountains, indented with bays and with silver threads of
rivers meandering through it. It was a picture of marvellous beauty
which no pen can describe.
They remained an hour or more on the mountain, and then began the
descent. It was far easier than the upward journey, but was by no means
a pleasurable affair. The boys slipped and fell several times, but,
luckily, received no severe hurts; and in little more than three hours
from the top they were at the spot where the horses were waiting for
them. Altogether, they had been through about twelve hours of the
hardest climbing they had ever known in their lives. Frank said he
didn't want to climb any more mountains for at least a year, and Fred
quite agreed with him. As they descended from their saddles at Muriyama,
they were stiff and sore, and could hardly stand. They threw their arms
around each other, and Frank said:
"The proudest day of my life--I've been to the top of Fusiyama."
"And it's my proudest day, too," Fred responded; "for I've been there
with you."
As they rested that evening, Frank thought of some lines that he had
seen somewhere, which were appropriate to the journey they had made, and
he wound up the day's experiences by repeating them. They were as
follows:
"As we climb from the vale to the high mountain's peak,
We leave the green fields far below;
We go on through the forest, beyond it we seek
The line of perpetual snow.
Cold and thin grows the air, the light dazzles our eyes,
We struggle through storm-cloud and sleet;
With courage undaunted we mount toward the skies,
Till the world spreads out at our feet.
"We are journeying now up the mountain of life,
The green fields of youth we have passed;
We've toiled through the forest with unceasing strife,
And gained the bright snow-line at last.
We are whitened by frost, we are chilled by the breeze--
With weariness hardly can move;
But, faithful to duty, in our work we'll ne'er cease
Till we look on the world from above."