The Spell of Japan Part 20

The terracing of the land is very marked along this route. j.a.panese methods of farming and irrigation require that the land shall be level, and so the country is all plotted off into little irregular terraces.

The ground is saturated with water, which stands to a depth of several inches around the growing crops. Paddy-fields are really ponds of standing water, while a farm is a marsh, the house alone rising above the surface. Farmers, while taking in their rice or plowing their fields, work with the water and thick black mud up to their knees.

Kobe is the foreign name applied to Hyogo, the treaty-port. It is next to Yokohama in commercial importance. The foreigners in Kobe--English, German and American--have a very pleasant club, and pretty bungalows on the hills back of the town. A beautiful waterfall and the Temple of the Moon are not far away.

Maiko, in the province of Harima, is one of the most enchanting spots in this part of j.a.pan. It is near the upper entrance to the Inland Sea, not far from Kobe. Nothing can be more fairy-like and mysterious than the spreading, twisted trees on the white sand there in the moonlight.

_Maiko_ means dancing girl, and the place gets its name from the effect given the ancient pines when the wind blows the sand into shifting scarfs about them.

Lake Shinji, on the northern coast, is also one of the most interesting places in the country and one seldom seen by foreigners. Ogo-Harito is famous for its giant rocks washed by the sea into strange and fantastic shapes. It is the female spirit of the west coast, while Matsushima is considered the male spirit of the east coast.

If one has time, Yahakii should be seen, for it is a very strange valley with its enormous conventional terraces made by nature. At the bottom of the canyon is a swift river, and temples are perched here and there on high crags. Koro Halcho, in the province of Kii, is very beautiful, especially in the spring when the gorge with its deep cliffs is made lovelier still with wild flowers. A motorcyclist would find inviting trips in Hokkaido, where the roads are not bad, though it is rather difficult getting there. Over on the other coast, from Nazano to Navetta, and around Kamisana, there are good roads.

Our trip through the Inland Sea, from Kobe to Nagasaki, was one of the most delightful experiences that we had in j.a.pan. We chartered a boat at Kobe, after an extravagant comedy of errors. L. went on board at midnight to examine it, and the agent did not discover until after the business was finished that it was not the boat which he intended L. to see at all; but the captain was too quick for him, and seized the opportunity to make a good bargain.

It turned out very well indeed for us. The steamer was of two hundred tons burden, one hundred and fifty feet long, with very comfortable cabins--two small ones in European style and one large one extending entirely across the boat, with mats in native style, where j.a.panese pa.s.sengers may lie side by side on their comforters. We took our own supplies, and had a very good cook until he went off one night on a spree.

We went aboard one evening, and sailed at daybreak next morning, being awakened by the rattling of the chain and the churning of the propeller.

Soon we were gliding out of the harbour between the shipping, just as the sun came up out of the Eastern Ocean, chasing the shadows down the hillsides and bathing the sh.o.r.e in a glorious crimson. We turned Hyogo Point and headed for Akashi Straits, to enter the Inland Sea, pa.s.sing palisades like those on the Hudson.

All day long we went through the archipelago of green and yellow islands. At first the sea was gla.s.sy, then gently ruffled, and junks and sampans with queer sails glided by. Toward evening we pa.s.sed into even narrower pa.s.sages and straits, and the moon rose, all silver in the twilight sky, while we turned many times, now to the right, now to the left, finally coming to anchor off the twinkling lights of Onomichi. We landed after dinner and walked through the little town, then sat out on deck and sang in the flooding moonlight.

[Ill.u.s.tration: j.a.pANESE JUNKS.]

When we left next morning it was to pa.s.s more promontories on beautiful islands, lovely mountains rising behind, and picturesque sh.o.r.es fringed with tiny trees all green and purple in the haze. In the afternoon the clouds and rain that crossed our path only added to and varied the loveliness of the approach to Hiroshima.

During the day we had an unsurpa.s.sed panorama of j.a.panese scenery, with grotesque, broken islands fringed with pine, and ravined mountains dipping down into the calm blue waters, on which the quaintest and most unreal of sampans and junks were idly floating. We felt as if we were pa.s.sing through a miniature ocean with its islands and old-world villages constantly appearing and disappearing in the rising, shifting mist. No wonder the j.a.panese believe in ghosts and in Bahu, the Eater of Dreams!

As the sun went down we rounded the enchanted island of Miyajima--the third of the "three finest views"--and glided into the bay before the famous temple. When it grew darker the four hundred lanterns of bronze and stone along the water's edge were lighted for us. The temple itself is built on piles, and the _torii_ stands far out from the sh.o.r.e. We were sculled across the still waters in a sampan. The tide was at its highest, and the hundreds of little lights were reflected in its gla.s.sy surface. Slowly we drifted beneath the great _torii_ to the temple entrance. Once more the Spell of j.a.pan stole over us.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE GREAT _TORII_.]

The sunrise next morning was too beautiful for words. We appeared to be coming out from a rosy dawn into a grey, dim future, as the sun came up through a pearly mist and the little clouds rose in wreaths about the tops of the strange mountains, making pictures such as the art of j.a.pan loves to depict. Tiny straw-sailed boats appeared and disappeared mysteriously. It was all very silent and lovely.

Later in the day we climbed the hill behind the temple, then came down and bathed, having tea at a delightful little tea-house, taking tiffin ash.o.r.e beneath the tiny-leafed maples near a brook; we went aboard in the late afternoon, and, hoisting anchor, steamed away.

Next morning we saw the sun rise at Moji. We pa.s.sed Shimonoseki and then steamed out into the China Sea, keeping the picturesque sh.o.r.e of Kyushu in sight all the way. We picked our course through the outlying islands and the swirling straits of Hirado, and reached Nagasaki late at night.

Contenting ourselves with one look at its twinkling lights, we retired.

Morning showed us once more its beautiful harbour, the mountains range on range behind it, and the city itself on either side, the houses rising above each other on long terraces to the summits of the hills on which Nagasaki is built.

Near us a big ship was coaling--a wonderful sight to one who beholds it for the first time. It was surrounded by countless barges upon which were swarming crowds of j.a.panese--men, women and children. Forming a long line that reached from the barges up a ladder into the ship's hold, they handed baskets of coal from one to the other, so that a continuous stream poured steadily into the ship. The strangeness of the costumes, the unusual sight of women doing a man's work--many of them with babies strapped to their backs--added to the interest of the busy scene. Down in the hold, where the heat must have been suffocating, they plodded on, men and women, clad chiefly in coal-dust. All day long they worked away with happy smiles, the babies bobbing up and down on their mothers'

backs, doubtless wondering what it was all about. The sight reminded me of the pa.s.sage in the aeneid, where the poet speaks of the ants as "tiny toilers of giant industry," and describes them carrying crumbs in their mouths to the common storehouse in a seemingly never-ending line.

As we steamed out of the harbour, the green hills rose steeply from the water with houses and shrines peeping through the trees, backed by a still higher range of hills which were finally lost in the blue distance or broke off into crags and cliffs.

CHAPTER XIV

FLOWERS, INDOORS AND OUT

"If one should inquire of you concerning the spirit of a true j.a.panese, point to the wild cherry blossoms shining in the sun."

_The poet Motoori._

The Spell of j.a.pan owes no small part of its potency to the abundant flowers, which weave about the land an ever-changing veil of bright colours and exquisite textures. First appear the fragrant plums, earliest of the "One Hundred Flowers," and the freesias, and the wonderful display of cherry blossoms in March and April, then the wisteria and azalea, the iris and the peony, "the flower of prosperity"--in China it is called "the queen of flowers"--in July the lotus, and in the autumn the chrysanthemum, "the long-lasting plant." Of all these the cherry and the chrysanthemum are the most famous.

The plum, an emblem of chast.i.ty, is enjoyed chiefly by the intellectual.

There is only a breath of flower on the gnarled stock, a mystery of white or pink or red, which requires close study to find delight in the manner in which the blossoms scatter irregularly on the beautiful, twisting branches, silvery with lichen.

This charming little poem by Sosei refers to the plum as the herald of spring:

"Amid the branches of the silv'ry bowers The nightingale doth sing: perchance he knows That spring hath come, and takes the later snows For the white petals of the plum's sweet flowers."

The cherry, being gayer and more profuse, is more popular with the people. It is called "the king of flowers," and especially represents abundance and vitality. It is therefore a fitting symbol of the national population. When the cherry is in blossom, the j.a.panese make excursions to view particularly beautiful trees, and as they feast and float in their pleasure boats, they enjoy even the fluttering petals, whether seen in the bright sunlight or the pale moonbeams. So high an official as a Prime Minister will take a day's journey for the sight of a cherry tree in bloom.

A j.a.panese of the olden time has beautifully pictured the blossoming cherry trees: "When in spring the trees flower, it is as if fleeciest ma.s.ses of cloud faintly tinged by sunset had floated down from the highest sky to fold themselves about the branches."

The wisteria is an especial favourite with foreigners, no doubt for the reason that we seldom see in America drooping cl.u.s.ters of such length--the length of an umbrella, as the j.a.panese measure. It is believed that this flower attains great size and beauty if the roots are nourished with the rice wine of the country, and there is at Kameido a tree producing unusually fine blossoms, at the base of which visitors are accustomed to empty their wine cups.

Every one is familiar with the beautiful and varied colours of the j.a.panese iris, as the bulbs are shipped to all parts of the world. The peony often measures nine inches across, and some of the tree peonies have petals of a lovely silky sheen and texture. It is sometimes called "the plant of twenty days," because it is said to keep fresh for that length of time. In art, it forms a constant decoration on temple and palace walls, and it is supposed, like the lotus, to have medicinal properties.

The lotus is not used for festivities or rejoicing in j.a.pan, but for sacred ceremonies and funerals. As it is a Buddhist flower, and as Buddhism started in India, it is sometimes called the national flower of India. It grows wonderfully, however, on the castle moats in Tokyo.

In its season the chrysanthemum pervades the country. It blossoms in every garden, it grows by the roadside, and it stands in every tiny shop. Each loyal son of Dai Nippon has a flower upon which he may rest his eye and with which he may delight his artistic and patriotic sense.

The sixteen-petalled flower is the crest of the Emperor, and no one else is allowed to use that as a design, although the blossom is often reproduced in decoration with fewer petals. The people go on pilgrimages in order to gaze with semi-religious awe upon "the long-lasting plant"; the Emperor gives a chrysanthemum party; and the season of this most decorative of flowers is made one of general rejoicing.

The chrysanthemum has been cultivated in China for more than two thousand years, says Dr. Bryan in the _j.a.pan Magazine_, and there is evidence of its being cherished in Egypt a thousand years before it is mentioned in China. Whether it came from Egypt to China, or vice versa, it is impossible now to determine, but the Chinese like to regard it as a product of the Far East. Confucius mentions it in 500 B.C., under the name of _liki_. From China it was brought to j.a.pan, where it has reached its highest development.

What the lotus was to Egypt, the fleur-de-lys to France, and the Tudor rose to England, the chrysanthemum is to j.a.pan. The flower is single, yet many. It is a unity in variety, and a variety springing from one undivided centre. The j.a.panese call it "binding flower," for just as its petals bind themselves together on the surface, so the Emperor and the people are forever bound together in indissoluble union. It was probably chosen as the most natural and artistic emblem of the sun, but both this and the cherry blossom, like the Emperor and his people, are considered children of that luminary, whose orb resplendent stands for the country as a whole. Many a maiden of j.a.pan is named after "the binding flower,"

and its use is very typical of j.a.panese art and life.

[Ill.u.s.tration:_A j.a.panese Flower Man_]

At one chrysanthemum show we saw nine hundred blossoms on a single plant, and the flowers were arranged to form figures of warriors and ladies of long ago, from the fairy tales of Old j.a.pan. At Dango-zaka, a place of professional gardens, an exhibition is held each year, for which visitors are charged two _sen_[10] a peep. Here we saw wonderful figures made of flowers--one of an elephant and his rider being thirty-six feet high. In the grottoes and rockeries of the garden were other life-like figures. It was a sort of "Madame Tussaud's" with the characters in flowers instead of wax. On revolving stages were rocks and mountains, horses and men in all sorts of att.i.tudes, brilliant, curious and interesting--all made of flowers. One scene represented Commodore Perry's reception by the Shogun.

[10] A _sen_ is three-fourths of a cent.

The Imperial Chrysanthemum Party has been in vogue at the j.a.panese Court since 1682.[11] Formerly, as the guests came before the Emperor, a vase of lovely blossoms, to which was attached a bag of frankincense and myrrh, was placed in front of His Majesty, and cups of _sake_ with the petals floating in them were handed around. In the annals of China we read the explanation of this custom:

[11] For this description, also, I am largely indebted to the writings of Dr. Bryan.

There was once upon a time, as the story goes, a man who was warned of an impending calamity, which could be warded off, he was told, by attaching a bag of myrrh to his elbow and ascending a certain hill, where he was to drink _sake_ with the petals of the chrysanthemum floating in it. The man did as was suggested, but on returning home he found all his domestic animals dead. When he informed his teacher that the plan had not worked, the former replied that the calamity was to have come upon his family, and that by acting upon the warning he had averted it, throwing the vengeance on the animals instead.

The Emperor's Chrysanthemum Party is now conducted in a somewhat different manner from that of the olden time. It is held in the flower palace of the Imperial garden at Akasaka. Upon the arrival of the Emperor and his suite at the main gate, the j.a.panese national anthem begins, and the guests, who are already in their places, line the pathway on either side, bowing as Their Majesties, the Emperor and Empress, and the princes of the blood, file past. Then the guests fall into line after the Imperial party and follow to the place where the feast is prepared.

The Emperor takes his place on the dais at the head of the marquee, and receives all the representatives of foreign countries and some of the higher officials of the Empire. As each diplomat appears in the Mikado's presence he bows three times, and his felicitations are translated into j.a.panese by an interpreter who stands near His Majesty. The Empress is seated on a dais slightly lower but very near, and all who approach the Emperor bow also to the Empress. This function over, the Emperor sips a gla.s.s of wine, which is the signal for the feast to commence. As soon as the feasting is ended the band strikes up, and His Majesty begins to prepare for his departure. The guests again line up, and bow in farewell as the Imperial procession files out, then they enjoy the view of the superb chrysanthemums.

The Imperial Cherry Blossom Party in the spring is held in the same garden at Akasaka, and is conducted in much the same way, an elaborate feast being laid in a great marquee. The palace in these grounds originally belonged to Prince Kishu, but after the burning of the Emperor's palace in 1873 this one was used as a temporary abode of the Imperial family, and was afterward the residence of the Crown Prince, now Emperor.