THE INLAND SEA AND NAGASAKI.--CAUGHT IN A TYPHOON.
From Kobe westward the route lies through the famous Inland Sea of
Japan, known to the Japanese as the Suwo Nada. The Inland Sea is more
like a lake than an arm of the ocean; and there have been travellers who
could not readily believe that it was connected with the ocean, and that
its waters were salt instead of fresh. The distance is, in round
numbers, about two hundred and fifty miles; and through the entire
voyage the land is constantly in sight, and generally close at hand. The
islands rise sharply from the water, and a large portion of them are
densely wooded and exceedingly picturesque.
[Illustration: THE INLAND SEA NEAR HIOGO.]
During the whole of the voyage, as long as the daylight favored them,
our young friends remained on deck, and studied the scenery along the
route. Sometimes the sea widened out to fifty miles or more, and at
others it contracted so that there was no sign of a passage before them,
and it was difficult to say which way the steamer would turn. Now and
then the islands were so close together that the steamer made her course
as though she were tracing the sinuosities of the Mississippi River, and
it was necessary to keep a sharp lookout to avoid accidents on the
numerous rocks that lie sunken in the channel. Mishaps to the steamers
are of rare occurrence, as the channel has been carefully buoyed, and
the pilots understand their business fully; but it is otherwise with the
unwieldy junks, which are often driven by an adverse wind directly into
the dangers their captains are seeking to avoid. The traffic through the
Inland Sea is very great, both by the steamers and by the junks; and
sometimes whole fleets of the latter may be seen waiting in some of the
sheltering nooks for a favoring wind. The steamers make the passage from
one end to the other of the Inland Sea in less than twenty-four hours;
but the junks are frequently a fortnight in covering the same distance.
They are never in a hurry, and therefore time is no object.
[Illustration: APPROACHING SIMONESEKI.]
The Inland Sea is entered soon after leaving Kobe, and it terminates at
Simoneseki, where there is a narrow strait leading into the open waters.
Our friends wanted to land at Simoneseki, where the steamer made a halt
of a couple of hours; but they were informed that the port was not
opened to foreigners, and, therefore, their only view of it was a
distant one. However, they were consoled by the reflection that they
could have plenty of time at Nagasaki, where the ship was to remain a
day and a half before continuing her voyage. Nagasaki was the first
place opened to foreigners, and there are many points of interest about
the city.
[Illustration: DANGEROUS PLACE ON THE SUWO NADA.]
Hardly was the anchor down when our trio entered a boat and were rowed
to the shore. Nagasaki is prettily situated in a bay that is completely
landlocked, and affords secure anchorage to ships even in the severest
gales. Doctor Bronson had been in the harbor of Rio Janeiro, in South
America, and said that the bay of Nagasaki was a sort of pocket edition
of that of Rio Janeiro. The hills rise abruptly from the water, and lie
in terraces that seem to lose themselves in the distance. Some of the
hills are wooded, while others are cleared and cultivated; and in either
case there are evidences of the most careful attention on the part of
the inhabitants of the country. Looking seaward the hills gradually
separate until the entrance of the bay is reached; here the island of
Pappenberg stands directly across the mouth of the bay, and, while
seemingly obstructing it, serves as a breakwater against the in-rolling
waves.
[Illustration: PAPPENBERG ISLAND.]
"That island has a fearful history," said Doctor Bronson, while they
were looking at it when the steamer entered the harbor.
"Do you mean the island of Pappenberg?" Frank asked.
"I know," said Fred; "it has a history connected with the establishment
of Christianity in Japan more than two hundred years ago."
"I think I have already told you something of the attempt to make Japan
a Christian country," the Doctor continued. "The island of Pappenberg is
one of the places that witnessed the extinction of the Christian
religion in Japan after it had gained a strong footing. Do you observe
that one side of the island is like a precipice?"
[Illustration: WOMEN OF NAGASAKI.]
The boys regarded the point to which their attention was directed; and
they regarded it more attentively when they were told that from that
steep rock many thousands of men and women were hurled, solely for the
offence of being Christians. Those that were not killed by the fall were
drowned in the sea, and not one was allowed to escape. Pappenberg is
known in history as the Tarpeian Rock of Japan. It is now used as a
picnic resort of the foreign inhabitants of Nagasaki, and a more
delightful spot for a pleasure excursion could not be easily found.
According to some writers there were nearly a hundred thousand
Christians massacred after the discovery of the conspiracy which was to
put Japan under the control of Portugal, but the Japanese say that these
figures are an exaggeration. It is difficult to get at the truth of the
matter, as neither party can be relied on for accuracy, or rather the
accounts that have come down to us cannot be considered impartial.
[Illustration: A CHRISTIAN VILLAGE IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.]
As nearly as can be ascertained the first European who landed on
Japanese soil was Mendez Pinto, a Portuguese who combined the
occupations of merchant and pirate in such intimate relations that it
was not always easy for him to determine where the one ended and the
other began. He has been greatly slandered, and his name has an ignoble
place in history, as that of a champion liar. The fact is, that the
stories he told on his return to Europe, and which caused him to be
called "The Mendacious," were substantially correct--quite as much so as
those of Marco Polo, and far more than the narrations of Sir John
Mandeville. Pinto came with two companions to the island of Tanegashima
in 1542, and, as might be expected, they were great curiosities. Even
more curious were the fire-arms they carried; and they were invited to
visit the Daimio of Bungo, and bring their strange weapons with them.
They did so, and taught the natives how to make guns and powder, which
soon became generally used throughout Japan. To this day fire-arms are
frequently called "Tanegashima," after the island where Pinto landed
with the first of these weapons. Christianity followed closely on the
track of the musket. The adventurers returned with a profit of twelve
hundred per cent. on their cargo. Their success stimulated others, and
in 1549 two Portuguese missionaries, one of them being Francis Xavier,
landed in Japan, and began the work of converting the heathen. Xavier's
first labors were in Satsuma, and he afterwards went to Kioto and other
cities. Personally he never accomplished much, as he could not speak the
language fluently, and he remained in the country only a few years. But
he did a great deal to inspire others; numbers of missionaries flocked
to Japan, and it is said that thirty years after Xavier landed on the
soil there were two hundred churches, and a hundred and fifty thousand
native Christians. At the time of the highest success of the
missionaries it is estimated that there were not less than half a
million professing Christians in Japan, and perhaps another hundred
thousand who were nominally so, though their faith was not regarded as
more than "skin deep." Among the adherents of the new religion there
were several Daimios, and a great number of persons occupying high
social and official positions. Some of the Daimios were so zealous that
they ordered their people to turn Christians whether they wished it or
not; and one of them gave his subjects the option of being baptized or
leaving the country within twenty-four hours.
[Illustration: MONUMENTS IN MEMORY OF MARTYRS.]
The Dutch were great traders in the East Indies, and they managed to
obtain a footing in Japan during the time of the Portuguese success.
They received a concession of the island of Deshima, about six hundred
feet square, in the harbor of Nagasaki, and here they lived until our
day. When the troubles arose that led to the expulsion of foreigners and
the extinction of Christianity, the Dutch were excepted from the
operations of the edict, as it could not be shown that they had had any
part in the conspiracy. They had been too busy with their commerce to
meddle in religious matters; and, if history is true, it is probable
that they hadn't religion enough in their small colony at Deshima to go
around and give a perceptible quantity to each man.
This little island was in reality a prison, as its inhabitants were not
allowed to go outside for any purpose, except once in three years, when
a delegation of them made a journey to Yeddo to make presents to the
Tycoon. They were compelled to travel the most of the way in closed
norimons, and thus their journey did not afford them many glimpses of
the country. There is a tradition that they were required to go through
the ceremony of trampling on the cross in the presence of the Tycoon,
and also to intoxicate themselves, as a warning to the Japanese to shun
the wicked ways of the foreigners. Whether either account be true I am
unable to say; the assertion is very positively made and as positively
denied, and therefore I will leave every reader, who has paid his money
for the book, to make choice of the side of the story which suits him
best.
[Illustration: A PATH NEAR NAGASAKI.]
The first move of our friends on landing was to go to Deshima, as they
had a curiosity to see the little island, which was so famous in the
history of the foreign relations of Japan with the outer world. The
drawbridge leading to the island, and the box where the Japanese
sentries stood, were still there, and so were some of the buildings
which the Dutch inhabited; but the Dutch were gone, and probably
forever. Outside of the historical interest there was nothing remarkable
about the island, and the boys wondered how men could voluntarily shut
themselves up in a prison like this. Only one ship a year was allowed to
come to them, and sometimes, during the wars between Holland and other
countries, there were several years together when no ship came. They
were permitted to purchase certain quantities of fresh provisions daily,
and when they ran short of needed articles they were supplied by the
governor of Nagasaki. But no permission could be granted to go outside
their narrow limits. How they must have sighed as they gazed on the
green hills opposite, and with what longing did they think of a ramble
on those grassy or wooded slopes!
[Illustration: HOLLANDER AT DESHIMA WATCHING FOR A SHIP.]
The chief use of Deshima, as our friends found it, is to serve as a
depository of Japanese wares, and particularly of the kinds for which
Nagasaki is famous. Nagasaki vases and Nagasaki lacquer were in such
quantities as to be absolutely bewildering, and for once they found the
prices lower than at Yokohama. They made a few purchases--their final
transactions in Japan--and then turned their attention to a stroll
through the city.
There was not much to amuse them after their acquaintance with other
cities of Japan, and so they were speedily satisfied. On the hill
overlooking the town and harbor they found an old temple of considerable
magnitude, then another, and another, and then tea-houses almost without
number. In one of the latter they sat and studied the scenery of
Nagasaki until evening, when they returned to the steamer.
Another ramble on shore the following morning, and they left the soil
of Japan for the deck of the steamer. At noon they were slowly moving
down the bay; they passed the island of Pappenberg, and, as they did so,
Frank read from a book he had picked up in the ship's cabin the
following paragraph:
"In that same year, when the last of the Roman Catholic converts were
hurled from the rocky islet of Pappenberg, in the Bay of Nagasaki, a few
exiles landed at Plymouth, in the newly discovered continent, where they
were destined to plant the seeds of a Protestant faith and a great
Protestant empire. And it was the descendants of the same pilgrim
fathers that, two centuries later, were the first among Western nations
to supply the link of connection wanted, to bring the lapsed heathen
race once more within the circle of Christian communion, and invite them
anew to take their place in the family of civilized nations."
And while meditating on the mutations of time and the strangeness of
many events recorded in history, our friends passed from the harbor of
Nagasaki into the open sea.
"Sayonara!" said Frank, raising his cap and bowing towards the receding
land.
"Sayonara!" echoed Fred, as he followed his cousin's example. "I say
'Sayonara' now, but I hope that some time in the future I may be able to
say 'Ohio.'"
"And so do I," Frank added. "It is a charming country, and I don't think
we shall find a more agreeable one anywhere."
The conversation was cut short by the call to dinner, a call that has
suppressed many a touch of sentiment before now, on land as well as on
the water.
[Illustration: THE RAIN DRAGON.]
It is a voyage of two days, more or less, according to the speed of the
steamer, from Nagasaki to Shanghai. Our friends had hoped to be in
Shanghai on the afternoon of the second day from the former port; but
their hopes were not destined to be realized. The Japanese gods of Rain,
Wind, and Thunder interfered.
[Illustration: THE WIND DRAGON.]
The morning after their departure from Nagasaki, Frank went on deck soon
after daylight. The wind was so strong that it almost took him from his
feet, and he was compelled to grasp something to make sure of remaining
upright. The sky was overcast, and every few minutes there came a
sprinkling of rain that intimated that the cabin was the better place
for any one who was particular about keeping dry. Fred joined him in a
few minutes, and soon after Fred's arrival the Doctor made his
appearance.
[Illustration: THE THUNDER DRAGON.]
The Captain was on the bridge of the steamer, and appeared much
disturbed about something, so much so that the boys asked Dr. Bronson if
he thought anything had gone wrong.
The Doctor gave a hasty glance at the sky and the water, and then
retreated to the cabin, where a barometer was hanging. A moment's
observation of the instrument satisfied him, or, rather, it greatly
dissatisfied him, for he returned hastily to the deck and rejoined the
boys with the observation,
"We shall have it very lively in a short time, and are not likely to
reach Shanghai in a hurry."
"Why? What do you mean?"
"I mean that we are about to have a typhoon."
"I should rather like to see one," Frank remarked.
"Well," the Doctor replied, "you are about to be accommodated, and if
we get safely out of it I am very sure you will not want to see another.
"But as we are in for it," he continued, "we must make the best of the
situation, and hope to go through in safety. Many a strong ship lies at
the bottom of the sea, where she was sent by just such a storm as we are
about to pass through, and many another has barely escaped. I was once
on a ship in the China seas, when the captain told the passengers that
it would be a miracle if we remained half an hour longer afloat. But
hardly had he done speaking when the wind fell, the storm abated, and we
were safe. The typhoon is to these waters what the hurricane is to the
West Indies; it is liable to blow at any time between April and
September, and is often fearfully destructive.
"The word typhoon comes from the Japanese 'Tai-Fun,' which means 'great
wind,' and the meaning is admirably descriptive of the thing itself.
There is no greater wind in the world than a typhoon; the traditional
wind that would blow the hair off the back of a dog is as nothing to it.
A cyclone is the same sort of thing, and the two terms are
interchangeable; cyclone is the name of European origin, while typhoon
comes from the Asiatic.
"The typhoon blows in a circle, and may be briefly described as a
rapidly revolving wind that has a diameter of from two to five hundred
miles. It is a whirlwind on a large scale, and as furious as it is
large. A curious fact about it is that it has a calm centre, where there
is absolutely no wind at all, and this centre is sometimes forty or
fifty miles across. Nearest the centre the wind has the greatest
violence, and the farther you can get from it, the less severe is the
gale. Mariners always try to sail away from the centre of a typhoon, and
I have known a ship to turn at right angles from her course in order to
get as far as possible from the centre of a coming tempest. There is a
great difference of opinion among captains concerning these storms, some
declaring that they have been in the middle point of a typhoon and
escaped safely, while others aver that no ship that was ever built can
withstand the fury of a storm centre. But I think the weight of evidence
is in favor of the former rather than the latter, as I have known
captains who have described their situation in such a way as to leave
not the slightest doubt in my mind of the correctness of their
statements.
"If you have any desire to study the subject fully, I advise you to get
'Piddington's Law of Storms;' you will find it treated very fully and
intelligently, both from the scientific and the popular point of view.
[Illustration: A TYPHOON.]
"It has never been my fortune," the Doctor continued, "to be farther in
a typhoon at sea than the outer edge, but that was quite as much as I
wanted. One time on land I saw and felt one of these tempests; it drove
ships from their moorings, swamped hundreds of boats, unroofed many
houses, tore trees up by the roots, stripped others of their branches,
threw down walls and fences, flooded the land, and caused a vast amount
of havoc everywhere. Hundreds of people were drowned by the floods, and
the traces of the storm will last for many years. The city that has
suffered most by these storms is Calcutta. On two occasions the centre
of a typhoon has passed over the harbor or within a few miles of it, and
the whole shipping of the port was driven from its moorings and the
greater part completely or partially wrecked."
While they were listening to the remarks of the Doctor the boys observed
that the wind was increasing, and as they looked at the compass they
found that the ship's course had been changed. Everything about the
vessel that could be made fast was carefully secured, and the party was
notified that they might be ordered below at any moment. The waves were
not running high, and but for the very severe wind there would have been
nothing to cause more than ordinary motion on board the steamer.
After a time the waves broke into what is called a "choppy sea;" the
wind was so great that their crests were blown away before they could
rise to any height worthy of notice. Mariners say that in a severe
typhoon the ocean is quite smooth, owing to the inability of the waves
to form against the irresistible force of the wind. It is fortunate for
them that such is the case, as they could not possibly survive the
combined action of the cyclone and the great waves together.
For three or four hours the wind continued to increase, and the waters
to assume the shapes we have seen. The barometer had fallen steadily,
and everything indicated that the arrival of the steamer at Shanghai, or
at any other port, was by no means a matter of certainty. The order was
issued for the passengers to go below, and our friends descended to the
cabin. Just as they did so the decks were swept by a mass of water that
seemed to have been lifted bodily from the sea by a gust of wind. The
order to go below was not issued a moment too soon.
The Doctor took another glance at the barometer, and discovered
something. The mercury was stationary!
Ten minutes later it had risen a few hundredths of a degree. The rise
was small, but it was a rise. In another ten minutes another gain was
perceptible.
The Doctor's face brightened, and he called the boys to observe what he
had discovered. He had already explained to them that the barometer
falls at the approach of stormy weather, and rises when the storm is
about to pass away. Before a storm like a typhoon the fall is very
rapid, and so certainly is this the case that mariners rely upon the
barometer to give them warning of impending danger.
An hour from the time they went below they were allowed to go on deck
again. The wind had abated a little, so that there was no further danger
of their being swept from the decks by the water; the clouds were less
dense and the rain was not falling so heavily. In another hour there was
another perceptible decline in the wind, and a little later the ship was
again put on her course. The captain announced the danger over, and said
the centre of the typhoon had passed at least a hundred miles to the
west of them. "If we had kept our course," said he, "we should have been
much nearer to it, and then the storm would have been more dangerous for
us."
"How do you know which way to turn?" Frank asked; "it seems to me you
are just as likely to run to the centre of the storm as to the
circumference."
"There's where you don't understand the science of storms," said the
captain smiling. "In the northern hemisphere typhoons, cyclones, and
hurricanes--they are all the same--whirl from left to right, that is,
they turn like the hands of a watch, while in the southern hemisphere
their motion is exactly the reverse. When we think we are in the sweep
of a typhoon in these waters, we run with the wind on our starboard, or
right hand, and that course will take us away from the centre. In the
southern hemisphere we run with the wind on the port, or left hand, with
the same result. But we'll go to dinner now and be happy, for the danger
is over."
[Illustration: COURSE OF A TYPHOON.]
Just as they were rising from table they were suddenly called on deck by
the announcement of a wreck. An American bark had been dismasted by the
gale and lay helpless on the water; her captain wished to be taken in
tow to the mouth of the Yang-tse-kiang, and after some minutes spent in
making a bargain, the matter was arranged and a line passed out.
"They were less fortunate than we," the Doctor remarked as they
proceeded with their tow.
[Illustration: CAUGHT NEAR THE STORM'S CENTRE.]
"Yes," answered the captain, "the poor fellow was nearer the centre of
the typhoon than we were. There'll be a job for the ship-carpenters and
riggers at Shanghai; it's an ill wind that blows nobody any good."
Frank was looking through the captain's glass at the persons who were
moving about the deck of the bark. Suddenly he observed something and
called out to his companions:
"Look, look! here's a familiar face!"
The Doctor took the glass and then handed it to Fred; the latter looked
steadily for a minute or more before he had a satisfactory view, and
then said:
"It's our old friend, the Mystery!"