Part 4

Our progress was so desperately slow that, by the time we reached Sarabuto, we had almost given up hope of reaching Azuma for the night. We were taking tea and cakes at the little tea-house, when a _basha_ came along making its homeward journey empty. We gladly hired it, taking some luggage into it with us and dividing the rest between the two carts. We then rode away in comparative comfort and at a much improved speed. From Mukawa, we walked a little to stretch our legs, but then rode steadily on to Azuma, arriving at about four o’clock. The luggage came in later. We were impressed by the preparations the little town was making against Russian attack. The four Russian gunboats are being watched for. Seven men patrol the coast day and night. At a signal of two bells from the tower, the women, the aged, and the helpless are to flee for shelter inland; at four strokes every able-bodied man and boy is to seize the nearest thing that can serve as a weapon and rush to meet the enemy. And no doubt similar arrangements of desperate bravery are being made at every miserable fishing village along this coast!

In the morning we took the _basha_ of yesterday and a second one for luggage and started early. It was bitterly cold and from time to time we ran to warm our feet. At Yubutsu we turned directly from the sea and struck for the little station of Numanohata. Here at 9.40 a. m. we took train for Sapporo, where we had to spend a few days, packing, completing preparations, and waiting for our people. Here I had the opportunity of examining the Japanese books and manuscripts relative to the Ainu, in the governmental library of the Hokkaido. The Japanese have been much interested in the Ainu and have written many works about them. Most famous and best known is the _San Goku Tsuran Zusetsu_, by a Rin Shihei. It was published in 1785 and consists of a volume of text and five volumes of maps. It is more commonly found in manuscript than printed. It is abundantly illustrated with pictures of men and women, dress, ornaments, tools, and scenes of daily life. In one picture three Ainu boys are playing the game of “javelin and ring,” but instead of using javelins are piercing the rolling ring with arrows shot from bows. In a family scene, the father smokes a pipe, but looks around for a moment at the baby, who seems to point reproachfully at his mother, who is giving her breast to the bear cub and not to him; in a cage near by is a captive bird, perhaps an eagle, waiting sacrifice. In still another picture, the hunter, from his canoe on the sea, hurls a harpoon at a seal. The drawings of articles are carefully made and serve well for comparison with modern specimens. On the whole the book gives interesting information regarding the Ainu of one hundred and twenty years ago. The most diligent of the Japanese writers about the Ainu, however, is Matsuura Takeshiro, a geographer, who made a loving study of the island of Yezo, publishing many books between 1850 and 1865. He takes each section of the island in detail and describes it from the points of view of topography, flora, fauna, and ethnology. Almost all of his many books are illustrated and the pictures are often strikingly true to life. Takeshiro was a skillful artist and sometimes painted _kakemono_, or hanging scrolls, with Ainu scenes. One of these is now owned by Professor Miyabe, the accomplished botanist of the agricultural college at Sapporo. It is a simple picture, of few lines and delicate coloring, but it is living. It represents Ainu in boats on the sea gathering kelp. The picture is an heirloom, having been given to Professor Miyabe’s father by the artist, who was his friend. At the house of Mr. Ishikara, a mining engineer to whom I had been recommended, I was shown some manuscript maps made by the old geographer. They are marvels of patient work and surpass in their enormous amount of detail in the matter of local place-names. Among the pictures in Takeshiro’s books we have excellent material regarding the Ainu of a half century ago. My own interest in these Japanese books relative to Ainu began in 1891 at the little Museum of Rotterdam in Holland; it had been nourished by MacRitchie’s book, _The Ainos_, which depended absolutely upon such books for its material; it now flamed and during my brief stay in Japan I brought together quite a library of such books. I now know of more than forty _printed_ Japanese works that treat of the Ainu, most of which are in my collection. But the printed books are but a small part of the material representing Japanese observation. Many more than forty works still exist only in manuscript, some probably in but a single copy. There are at Sapporo a goodly number of such manuscripts, among them one so beautifully and delicately illustrated that I have had both texts and pictures carefully copied. At Hakodate and at Tokio are many more of these unpublished manuscripts, some of which surely deserve publication. We cherish the hope of finding some one who will help us to put some of these quaint and interesting books into print. To be sure, those without pictures would mean nothing to the English reader, but, until they are in print and accessible, they mean nothing to the students of Japan.

Among these works are many which narrate the wars between the Ainu and the Japanese. To-day, recognizing the passive and too yielding nature of the Ainu, it is difficult to imagine them as warlike. In hunting, it is true, they are brave enough, even reckless. But, if they were ever warriors, they are to-day a broken-spirited and subdued people. During the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, according to Japanese accounts, they were great fighters. Even the names of some great chiefs and descriptions of their deeds of bravery are consigned to writing.

The Ainu were the old population of Japan and probably occupied all the islands, even down to Kiushiu, the southmost. Over the whole area Ainu names are sprinkled. Even the name of sacred Fuji-san, the divine mountain, seems to be Ainu. As the ancestors of the Japanese entered Japan from the south, they drove back the unhappy Ainu before them. The encroachment was gradual, but constant; little by little the Ainu retreated to the north. Not very long ago there were still many in the northern part of the main island; to-day there are none. Yezo, the Kurils, and Saghalien (now Russian territory) were their final strongholds. But now Yezo is filling with vigorous, incoming Japanese, before whom undoubtedly the Ainu must yield. His little villages, sprinkled here and there over the island, along the river-courses or on the sea coast, will disappear. His life of hunting and fishing is already almost a thing of the past. To-day the Ainu is “a ward,” to be guarded by a paternal government, to be “elevated” by civilization. He is forbidden to make arrow poison, he is subject to game laws, he may no longer have his girls tattooed, he must send the children to school, he must learn “the ways of industry,” and till the soil; it is the old story. We know it as Japan does. We, too, have wards to be “improved.”

Our Ainu party duly appeared with bag and baggage. They reported that, at their leaving, there was a gathering of the village and much weeping, since they were looked upon as dead men never again to be seen in the old home. We had learned immediately on our return to Sapporo that Bete Goro was _anxious_ to go with us, but had hesitated about taking him. Goro is young, shaves, wears Europeanized, not to say Japanized, clothing. To be sure, he still wears Ainu leggings with fine embroidery. He is dreadfully conventional; instead of whittling _inao_, he knits stockings! Now, all this is highly commendable, but it is no qualification for figuring in an Ainu group at the Exposition. But, Goro was lively and happy and anxious to go. That was something, and we believed his influence would do much to cheer the somewhat morose Yazo, the timid Shirake, and the group that were mourned as dead. So we decided he should go. We should leave his wife, daughter of old Penri’s widow, behind, in expectation of an event of importance to the Ainu community. Mr. Batchelor was asked to communicate the decision, and Goro was summoned to his study. A moment later Mr. Batchelor called us to see “what ails this crazy fellow.” Goro, who had seated himself upon the floor, was beside himself with joy. He hugged himself, chuckled, laughed, swayed from side to side, literally rolled upon the floor. With his accession our party was complete. Nine Ainu made up the group—old Sangyea, his wife Santukno, their little daughter Kin, Kutoroge the bear-hunter, his wife Shitratek, and their baby girl Kiko, Yazo, his wife Shirake, and Bete Goro. We marched the whole company to the police station, where they were identified, their documents examined and passports issued permitting them to leave Japan with us.

We had, however, during this time at Sapporo, made one side trip. Piratori and the other Saru towns were so far from the railroad that it had seemed best not to bring an Ainu house from there. So we again took the railroad, passed Tomakomai and Numanohita, and got off the train at Shiraoi, a railroad town of considerable size. The part of the town along the track is Japanese. The Ainu portion, forming perhaps two-thirds of the whole town, lies between the Japanese quarter and the sea. Old Parapita had already been sent to find a house and, promptly on our arrival, the village chief Shupanram took us to the one selected. It was small, but typical; the shem, however, was less than of normal size, so we bought a second very small house to supply material for a _shem_ of normal proportions in Saint Louis. The two houses together cost forty yen (twenty dollars, U. S. currency) and we ordered twenty yen’s worth more of thatching. The chief summoned laborers, men, women and children, the people who had been living in our house, moved out at once, and the work of demolition began. We then took a walk through the town. In some respects it is unlike the Saru River villages and is, perhaps, typical of seaside towns within reach of Japanese influence. The houses are massed quite closely together; many—most of them—are protected or sheltered by breaks or guards of bamboo, built especially at the west doorway; there was an almost complete absence of storehouses—such a conspicuous feature in the Saru villages. But there seems to be the same care in location with regard to the east and west, the same relative position of _nusa_, east window, sacred corner, and _shem_. The Ainu here are fine types. Tall, well-built men are common, one might say, the rule. The average difference of stature between males of Shiraoi and the Saru towns is certainly considerable. Mr. Batchelor tells me that the people of the northern towns near the western coast, as Ishikari, are shorter than those at Piratori. While the stature at Shiraoi is great, the heavy growth of body hair and the great beards are as at Piratori. Notwithstanding Japanese neighbors and the railroad the people at Shiraoi are conservative, and dress, ornament, utensils, and customs might be studied here as well as in some more remote villages. The life is undoubtedly influenced by the location of the village at the seashore, but we had no opportunity to study what peculiarities might be due to that. _Nusas_ are fine and numerous, and there are bear skulls on many of them. Here we noticed more conspicuously than elsewhere a secondary _nusa_, or rather a little group of _inao_ stuck into a hillock made of the refuse from the millet-mortar. More than ever, too, were we impressed with the coyote-like appearance of the dogs, which were here numerous.

We had observed two or three men passing, dressed in ceremonial costume and wearing crowns. Crowns with bearheads carved from wood occur here, as elsewhere, but crowns decorated with real bear claws, one or two, in place of the carved head of wood, are common. Learning that a drinking festival was in progress, we went to the place. It was truly an astonishing and impressive sight. Everything in the house was decorated with _inao_ shavings. The sacred east window and the treasure corner were hung with them. Along the two sides of the fireplace were squatted eleven or twelve old men, all wearing their embroidered ceremonial costumes and their crowns. All held moustache-lifters in their hands and before some of them stood cups of millet beer. Four freshly cut _inao_ were set in line west of the fireplace; next came three skulls wrapped in _inao_ shavings, in a tray; next were two high _inao_ and a large bowl of millet-beer. When we entered, all the old men stroked their beards. The leader of the feast sat in the middle of the line, at the fireplace, with a bowl of millet beer before him. He went through the whole elaborate salutation to Mr. Batchelor and then to me. A second old man did the same. The master of the feast then offered to make libation and drink in Mr. Batchelor’s honor, which offer was refused; a similar offer to me was refused by proxy. The feast was then resumed. Two or three young men were assisting, bringing beer, and otherwise serving. A cup of beer was passed out through the east window to someone outside, and we withdrew to see what was done there. Three blackbeards were worshiping. One took an _inao_ from a pile of stakes, where it had stood and bore it to the east window; a servant, inside, passed out a bowl of beer; the carrier of the _inao_, taking the moustache-lifter that lay across the cup, dipped it and sprinkled the _inao_. He then carried this to the _nusa_, and placed it in position. The other two had remained standing at the east window; the bearer, returning, took his place between the others, one of whom now received a cup of millet beer and a moustache-stick from the man inside; he sprinkled both of his companions and spilled a little of the drink upon the ground; the second then received a cup and stick and did the same; the third, the central one, who had placed the _inao_, then received the cup and made libation, but did not sprinkle his companions. All three then walked to the _nusa_ and sprinkled drops with the moustache-stick. All of this was done with great decorum and seriousness and was accompanied by prayer. We would gladly have seen the remainder of this festival, but could not stay. The three negatives we made of it were all failures. The ceremonial was to secure fine weather; it had long been bad and a change was greatly desired. The prayers seem to have been efficacious, for the next day dawned gloriously.

We were excellently treated by the chief, who ordered articles brought in for sale, and who at last, with extraordinary amiability, allowed us to examine the holiest of holies, the household _inao_, which stands in the extreme northeast corner of the house and ought never to be removed. It is an upright stick to which loose _inao_ curls are hung, from time to time, until the mass becomes great. It represents the spirit of the house and, underneath the mass of pendant curls, a notch is cut into which a coal from the hearth, called “the heart,” is bound. This was brought out for our inspection and we were even allowed to look at the place of “the heart.” The coal itself was gone, though the notch, blackened by the heat, remained, and a new heart was to be inserted at the next extraordinary festival of the house. Now passing outside, we found the house, which we had purchased, a wreck. A crowd of men, women, and children were engaged in wrapping, cording, and moving the materials to the station. It was evening, and, as we were very tired, we betook ourselves to the house of the local catechist, a Japanese, where we ate and slept.

We had brought Mr. Inagaki with us, whose services as interpreter and caretaker of the Ainu, we had been so fortunate as to secure. The people speak no English, of course, but they all know some Japanese; Mr. Inagaki speaks Japanese and English. Born in southern Japan, he is studying for the Episcopal ministry at the theological school at Tokio, where he is well thought of by Bishop McKim. His health broke down, and, forced to discontinue study for a time, he was furloughed to Yezo, where it was hoped that outdoor life would do him good. He is willing and competent. When we left in the morning, he remained to superintend the shipment of the house to Muroran, coming up to Sapporo on the afternoon train. We had been promised a war-club, but could not secure it last night, as it was in the house where the feast was in progress. In the cold, fresh, bright morning, we walked out to secure it. It was a fine old specimen, well cut, with the inset piece of iron still in place, black with the accumulated dirt and smoke of years, and tied around with fresh _inao_ shavings in honor of yesterday’s feast. At the last moment the owner repented and hesitated about selling. But we secured it and hurried in triumph to our train. There is no equally good specimen at the Tokio University, nor in the Sapporo Museum and we might look long for another so good.

At last, on Monday, March 7, all was ready, and our party—nine Ainu, one Japanese, one Mexican, and one American,—started for the train. Mr. Batchelor went with us to the station to bid us Godspeed. Friends were gathered there, in genuine Japanese style, to see us off. Mr. Bell, a missionary friend whose acquaintance dated back to America; Mr. Fujimura, Mr. Ishikara, Professor Miyabe—all with best wishes. We were soon upon our way, and reached Muroran shortly after noon. The Maruichi Hotel was all excitement over soldiers expected in on a boat at evening. There had been stormy weather and quantities of passengers were waiting, and everything except third-class accommodations on the outgoing boat was sold. We decided to wait and see what would be done with the steamer, which was to bring the soldiers and over which the company had no control, as it was in the power of the War Department. If it should be released we could go on it late to-night; otherwise, we must wait until to-morrow night. Mr. Batchelor had sent word of our coming to the local catechist, who had already received our freight, house and household stuff, and had shipped them for Aomori; they were already loaded and would leave upon the regular night’s boat.

Having done all the business possible, we went to see an old man who had a little collection of Stone Age relics, which he had gathered at Cape Edomo, near by. There were a couple of dozen arrowheads, small, and of various forms and sizes, neatly chipped from obsidian, jasper and horn-stone; there were nine celts or polished blades, with good edge, made of several kinds of heavy, compact, hard stone; one of these made of a light green material showed marks of having been sawed from a block of stone; there was also a block of this same stone showing clear signs of sawing; there were two of the saws that did such cutting, crude things but showing plain signs of use, quite large, thin splinters of a hard and tough material with one side developed into a narrow cutting edge, striated by sand grains. The old man did not much care to sell, but we desired something to represent the Stone Age of Japan, and he finally did so, at a price, which would soon lead to bankruptcy, if we continued in the market.

Who were the makers of these early relics? For some time back we have been attracted by the theories of Morse, Milne, Hitchcock and others, that there was a Pre-Ainu race in Japan, which produced these stone objects and heaped up the shell-heaps found at many places. It is indeed hard to reconcile their writings and make a harmonious whole out of their material. Still we had finally reached the conclusion that there have been three populations of Japan. _First_, the pre-Ainu aborigines, pit-dwellers, called “earth spiders,” or “earth hiders.” The evidence for their existence, Morse’s shell-heaps at Omori with crude pottery and signs of cannibalism, the pits so common in Yezo and unquestionably marking ancient dwelling-sites, Hitchcock’s living “pit-dwellers” at Shikotan, some references in old Japanese chronicles and Ainu legends, and the fact (asserted by Basil Hall Chamberlain) of unanalyzed place-names in Yezo. _Second_, the Ainu coming from the north and penetrating far south, though ever more numerous in the north. _Third_, the Japanese coming from the south and driving the Ainu northward, coming here and there in contact with such aborigines as had escaped destruction at the hands of the Ainu.

The Ainu legends are curious. One of them is given by Mr. Batchelor as follows: “In very ancient times a race of people who dwelt in pits lived among us. They were so very tiny that ten of them could easily take shelter beneath one burdock leaf. When they went to catch herrings they used to make boats by sewing the leaves of bamboo grass together, and always fished with a hook. If a single herring was caught it took all the men of five boats, or even ten sometimes, to hold it and drag it ashore, while crowds were required to kill it with their clubs and spears. Yet strange to say these little men used even to kill great whales. Surely, these pit-dwellers were gods.”

Now, of course, we never believed in any such _Koropok-guru_. But we had been impressed by the arguments and we had been greatly interested, at Yokohama, in a chart or diagram, which a friend had shown us, in which a reconstruction of the life of this “earliest race of Japan” was attempted. We were especially astonished at the detailed information regarding the dress of the _Koropok guru_, which the chart seemed to show. Later, in Tokio, at the University, Prof. Tsuboi showed us some ancient clay figures of human beings and it was clear that the author of the chart had gained his ideas of dress from these. And in the presence of this instructive chart and the evidence shown me by this learned Professor my first doubts regarding their theory arose. Surely the shell-heaps, the crude pottery, the stone tools, and the old pit-houses were never made by people, who dressed as those represented in these figures. To-day, we feel somewhat skeptical with reference to the whole theory of a pre-Ainu race. Hitchcock’s pit dwellers of Shikotan are Ainu pure and simple. In some Ainu towns, particularly in Saghalien, individuals to-day make pit-houses. Mr. Batchelor claims now to be able to analyze all Yezo place-names; we tried him on twenty taken consecutively from a chance part of Chamberlain’s lists and he explained all to our satisfaction. There is good evidence that the Ainu have known the art of pottery and in their legends references are made to the practice of cannibalism (points important against Prof. Morse’s argument). While still open to argument, we now incline to consider the Ainu the aboriginal population of Japan. Various other elements undoubtedly exist among the population, especially Corean, but on the whole there have been but two widespread populations—Ainu and Japanese—and for us these old stone relics from Cape Edomo are Ainu things.