Part 5

The war steamer came at evening with six hundred men and thirty officers. The latter all came to the Maruichi Hotel and we were all confusion. To our disappointment we learned that the War Department would retain the vessel and that no passengers could be taken. As suddenly as they had come and with no information as to their further movements, the soldiers and officers left at nine o’clock and we were again in peace. We were told that another steamer was expected in the early morning and that we might possibly get off on it instead of waiting until night. Expecting that we might be called at six we went at once to bed. Suddenly, we were roused from our slumber, and, after hastily dressing, were hustled down to the shore, from which we were rowed out through the darkness to the Taconoura Maru. To our surprise we found that it was now but eleven o’clock and were soon again in bed. We started in the early morning and were at Hakodate in time to hear the noon gun, leaving again at two o’clock. Goro, our happy Goro, and two of the women were seasick. Up to Hakodate we had plenty of room and all was comfortable, but at that port many passengers embarked and the whole ship was disagreeably crowded. It was too cold to stay on deck much, but we could see as we sailed along the Yezo coast that there was much less snow than when we made our up-journey. It was cold and rainy when, at nine o’clock, we anchored in Aomori harbor and were landed, amid hubbub and confusion, by the little boat. The next day we found that the annual snow-cleaning was in progress and everywhere the great drifts in the streets were being cut down. We saw, too, what had been unimagined in our earlier visit, that every street has an open waterway for carrying off the melting snow. We stayed at Aomori long enough to reship our freight and took two nights instead of one on our way to Tokio, stopping off some hours, between trains, at Sendai. Railroad operations had been affected somewhat by the movement of troops and supplies. Not only were there fewer trains, but running time was longer, thirty-six hours instead of twenty between Aomori and Tokio.

At Tokio, young Mr. Yamada, from Mr. Clement’s school, met us at the station and told us that arrangements for board and lodging had been made for the Ainu at a place near the school. He also said: “The boys will invite the Ainu people to our house to-night.” This we really did not understand until near evening Mr. Clement told us that the boys were arranging a reception and that we were all invited. It is the school’s custom to hold some social function every Saturday evening. At half past seven, Madam Clement, Mr. Clement, Mr. Root, Manuel and I went to the school assembly room, where the boys were gathered. At the proper time the Ainu appeared, dressed in their new Japanese garments (the first purchases with their month’s advance) and were seated together upon a bench half facing the audience. We were given chairs of honor in front, to the left of the leader. The boys of the school, to the number of about thirty, and Mr. Inagaki formed the audience. The program and idea of the reception were entirely original to the boys. The reception was opened by prayer and a religious song; an address of welcome was then given by one of the older boys and Yazo gave a response; the boys then sang a religious song in Japanese and Goro one in Ainu; the boys followed with one or two addresses and Kutoroge was given his turn—he became stage-frightened and had to be represented by Yazo. The orator of the day, a graduate of the school and now attending the Methodist college, then made a brilliant address, which abounded in pathetic and emotional passages, and was well-received; as this was plainly addressed to me, he was asked to make an English translation, in which the oratory lost something, but the meaning was clear enough—“he recognizes that in the past the treatment of the Ainu by his own people has not always been what it should, but that the sympathy and love of the boys of the school goes with the Ainu in their long journey; that they hope I will treat them well and see that others do the same; that they hope for their safe return; be good to the Ainu.” To all of which I made a brief response, thanking the boys for their interest and sympathy and for their thoughtful and hearty way of showing them. After singing a final hymn, they passed around little sacks of cakes to each boy as his part of the feast. Meantime the Ainu and I were taken to a table, which we just filled when we sat down together, with me at the head. We were then bountifully served by the boys to tea and cakes. At the beginning the Ainu were a little restrained, but when they found that the supply was ample, they not only ate and drank astonishingly well, but laid by for future needs, as if they doubted whether so good a chance would come again. The other guests, though treated with less distinguished consideration were not neglected. When we left the boys saw us off with lighted lanterns and we felt that their reception had been a great success.

Mr. Inagaki was deeply touched and must have painted the reception in glowing colors, because an invitation came for the Ainu to visit St. Margaret’s Girls School on Monday afternoon. I was overwhelmed with work and had to go to Yokohama in the morning. However taking the noon train for Tokio, and hastening from the station to Tsukiji, I was at the school by the appointed hour. But it was a case of the play of Hamlet with Hamlet left out. Bishop McKim, Mr. Tucker, the Japanese principal, Mr. Inagaki, and one hundred and sixty Japanese girls were there and waiting; but the Ainu did not come. We waited, and waited, and to fill the time I told the girls something about Ainu life. At last we gave it up and the affair was postponed until the morrow. Inquiry found that they had not come because Shirake had a cold! The next day all except the invalid were present and the affair was reported to have been a great success. I was unable to be present.

Japan is up to date and the newspaper reporter knows his business. Though we were far from the centre of the city and had been quiet in our movements, the presence of the Ainu in the city and their location were announced in one of the papers. The result was that Tuperek appeared. And who was Tuperek? Old Sangyea’s son. We had never heard of him before and it was a long time since his father had heard from him. He had seen the newspaper notice and called and had an affecting interview. He is shrewd and knows something of white men as well as of Japanese. He is employed upon one of the “yellow journals” of Tokio. For some time he lived with Mr. Batchelor and, perhaps under his influence, has been stimulated to write a book of Ainu stories, which he plans to publish. He is a well-grown, strongly-built fellow of perhaps thirty years; he dresses in Japanese costume and shaves, but the heavy stubble on his face and the straight eyes are Ainu. The night before the party left for Yokohama he called upon us with his father; he begged to be taken to the Exposition; as they sat upon the floor before us, they wept as they pleaded. We ventured various objections, for all of which he had an answer. There was no time to get his passport and other documents; he would secure them and come along upon the next boat. He could not get into America, without us; oh, yes! he was connected with the Salvation Army, it could easily arrange that matter. As for his appearance, he knew that it was against him but he still had an Ainu costume and his beard would soon grow!

In the morning, we took the party to Yokohama, leaving them with Mr. Inagaki, to see the company’s doctor and the wharf doctor, to be inspected, bathed and fumigated and to secure their certificates for embarkation; a full day was none too much. As for us, between tickets and baggage, arranging for the shipment of the house and household stuff, and a hundred other things, we were kept swinging between Tokio and Yokohama. But at last all was done and on the morning of March 18, our whole party were aboard the Empress of Japan, upon which a little separate steerage had been rigged up for the Ainu where we believed they would be happier and more secluded than in the common steerage. On the voyage all were seasick except the two older men and the two babies. They probably suffered keenly. At all events, we are told that the words they use in describing their sufferings are of the most emphatic.

On the night of the 28th of March, we had the usual entertainment in the cabin. There were many Japanese passengers upon the list and, besides the usual music and recitations, we were favored with some Japanese sleight-of-hand performances, and an instrumental solo on a strange Japanese wind instrument. The proceeds of the sale of souvenir programs were to be given to the Japanese fund for wounded soldiers. As evidence of their appreciation of this act, the Japanese at the close of the program distributed souvenirs to all the other passengers,— a pretty fan, a bit of silk, a piece of lacquer. We were invited to contribute a part to the program by bringing in the Ainu and making an address about them. The address was well received but gave occasion to a little sparring. We did not see the program until it was printed and then found that we were announced to present a “short description of the Aino, followed by an Aino bear-dance by three of the tribe on board.” Our people were in ceremonial dress and made a fine appearance. We described the physical type, the tattooing, the dress and the salutations, after which Sangyea and Kutoroge gave a _yukara_ and we made some remarks about the problem of Ainu origin and relationship.

Had we seen the program, we should not have permitted the word _Aino_ to appear upon it; nor should we have allowed announcement of a “bear-dance” of which we never heard. It is true that there is dancing at bear-feasts but that is different from having a dance that is called a bear-dance. As to the name of our people it is not Aino, but _Ainu_, which is a word in their own language meaning man. The Ainu are “men”—i. e. _the_ men. It is a common thing for people in a certain stage of culture to name themselves in this way. The Eskimo call themselves _innuit_, “man”; the Moki Indians of Arizona, call themselves _hopi_, “men”; and the Delaware Indians called themselves _Lenni Lenape_, “men of men.” The word Aino is neither an Ainu nor a Japanese word; it approaches the Japanese word _ino_, “dog,” and there is no doubt that this similarity shades the word when used by the Japanese, to whom the Ainu often are as “dogs” and who have a legend that the Ainu are really the offspring of a woman and a dog. From the Ainu point of view the word Aino is a reproach and they resent it. While it occurs in many books, there is already ample authority in practice for using the proper form Ainu, which should absolutely supplant the other. The matter is of sufficient importance to have called for government ruling and in official documents Ainu is to-day _de rigeur_. In calling attention to this matter, we inadvertently offended both English and Japanese passengers, who had worded the program.

The _yukara_ are curious and interesting but are rarely, if ever, mentioned in the books. They are ancient war-songs and we only knew that a manuscript collection of them exists in the library at Mito. On inquiring of our men, we learned that they knew many _yukara_, so one day upon the voyage we went down to hear our first one. Kutoroge was singer; Sangyea beat the time. They seated themselves side by side upon the floor. Kutoroge began to sing in a low voice; single words were long drawn out and interrupted with curious throat gurglings; the singing of a single line of words was a matter of time and great apparent effort. Sangyea struck one stick against another, and from time to time gave a cry as if to excite the other’s courage. Kutoroge grew louder and the encouragement was more frequent and pronounced, until both were wrought up to a considerable pitch of excitement.

It was after sunset, on March 29th, that we sighted land. The line of hills was but dimly visible in the low hanging evening haze. Our people were all below but we called them to the deck. It took a moment for the first-comers to recognize what we were showing them, but then their cries, not at all loud, brought up the others promptly. Sangyea first and then Kutoroge ceremoniously seated themselves facing the shore and in silence rubbed their hands, waved them, and stroked their beards, in thanksgiving and worship. Having made this usual salutation, they raised their hands into the air with the palms toward the land line and though we could not hear their voices, we believe they prayed.

At daylight we were plowing through the waters of the Sound. From Victoria a few hours brought us to Vancouver, where everything amused and interested our people. Inspected by one physician at Victoria, by another at Vancouver, and by a third in the office of the United States Immigration Bureau on the Vancouver dock, they must have wondered what it all meant. We are sure _we_ did and we do not hesitate to say that of all foolish pretense at science these inspections deserve the premium. We refrain from detailing their method, but will only say that each of the three pursued a different procedure and that the third one examined only the eyes. They were all three personally polite and kind, but the whole thing is a farce. The immigration officers, among whom we found a friend, Colonel Albert Whyte, were most polite and put us to as little trouble and delay as possible. After our immigration certificates were issued we waited some little time for the Doctor and as the people were extremely tired they seated themselves in the office. Little Kiko was hungry and Shutratek, like a good mother, was doing her natural duty by the baby. The Secretary of the Japanese Consul had come in to see the Ainu; he was all smiles and friendliness until he saw Shutratek and the baby. His rebuke was vigorous and probably the poor woman was warned against future public care of her baby. The Japanese are all fearful lest we shall make the error of thinking that the Ainu are their ancestors or that we shall suppose the Japanese culture has come out from Ainu! This sensitiveness we have seen on many occasions.

We were obliged to spend two nights in Vancouver. The first night we left the people on the steamer, taking them on shore, however, for a walk in the early evening. Many things interested them, but nothing more than a stuffed elk in a corner window. Kutoroge looked at it from every point of view, then heaved a sigh and asked where such were found alive. We gestured expansively that they lived in all the country around. He shook his head expressively and said he’d like to hunt such deer as that.

In the morning all were removed to one of the Japanese hotels, after which we went down to pass the United States Customs Inspection. The great horses that we met, so unlike the little stocky animals of Japan, were an unfailing delight to the men, who wanted to examine them and caress them but were afraid of them, scared at their least movement. When we had passed the Customs, the morning was quite gone and Mr. Mayo, the Inspector, invited the whole party to the dog show in the afternoon. It was really a good show and certainly a thing the Ainu had never dreamed of. On the whole they were greatly pleased, but Shirake, frightened at the movement of so many animals and the noise of so much barking, burst into tears and cried as if her heart would break. After the dog show we sent them out to Stanley Park, that magnificent bit of a primeval forest set apart for a people’s playground, with Manuel and Mr. Inagaki. Near evening we went after them and found them a picture of content. The women and children were sitting and playing on the grass, while the men were swinging, with childish delight. They had been greatly pleased with the living animals in the cages; we tried to convince Kutoroge that the grizzly bear was, as the books say, the same as he knows in Japan, but he insisted that the Yezo bears were different from any of those here in captivity.

We had been invited to be guests of the local Japanese mission, conducted by Mr. Kaburagi, who was educated in the United States. Both he and his wife speak excellent English. The gathering took place in the mission rooms in the evening. Among the half-dozen whites who were guests were Prof. Odlum and Colonel and Mrs. Whyte. Prof. Odlum is the President of the local scientific and historical society and has been in Yezo. Years before A. Henry Savage Landor made his journey around the island, of which he makes such boast in his sadly inaccurate “Alone with the Hairy Ainu,” Prof. Odlum had gone over the same ground in much saner fashion. It was a great pleasure to him to again see Ainu, the people with whose homes he had once been familiar and into whose language he had made some translations. The room in which we were gathered was suited to a gathering, perhaps of two hundred persons; if so, there must have been three hundred present, mostly young Japanese men. The leader is a natural orator and a man of energy. A definite program had been arranged between him and Mr. Inagaki. Yazo spoke of Ainu agriculture, Goro of dress and ornament and tattooing, Kutoroge told of the bear-hunt. Prof. Odlum was called upon and briefly expressed his sympathy with Japan in her war and referred to his own experiences in Yezo. I then spoke in English of Ainu life and customs, having Kin and Kiko show salutation, thanks, and petition, which captured the audience, and the old men gave a _yukara_. This trick of Kin and Kiko is one which Manuel discovered and has a bit developed. On shipboard, when we carried lumps of sugar or fruits or cakes down to the children, as we did every afternoon, we insisted on their standing to receive them. On seeing the gift, the little hand was raised and the finger drawn across the upper lip, then the two hands were crossed one on the other, palms up, just in front of the body, when the gift was laid upon them. It was very pretty, particularly when done by little Kiko. Rarely have we seen such general interest and close attention as this crowd of young Japanese gave throughout our little entertainment. At its close they showered gifts upon the Ainu. The men each received a dollar; each woman received cloth for a dress; the children were given toys and bonbons. To the party collectively was given a great box of cakes. The plan had been to give Japanese cakes, as those to which they were accustomed, but the crafty creatures had expressed a preference for American cakes! Loaded down with gifts and completely tired—a Customs House Inspection, a Dog Show, a Park Picnic, and an Evening Entertainment all in one day!—they went home.

Of course, we everywhere attracted crowds. In Japan these crowds were never troublesome. In Vancouver fifty persons would gather immediately on our stopping on the streets, but it was the best behaved street crowd we have ever seen in a city of white people. In Seattle it was less tolerant, but only once was anything absolutely unpleasant said. In Saint Louis there was more rudeness, but nowhere was there so much as we had dreaded. From Seattle to Saint Louis, at almost every station passed during the daytime, people crowded to see the Ainu and asked their questions and made their comments but all good-naturedly. Several adventures with drunken men upon the car took place, but these poor fellows were usually bubbling over with goodwill and were only troublesome in their well-meant advances of kindliness. Both at stations and in the cars meetings with Indians took place and it was curious to see the mutual close inspection. On the whole the Ainu took the inspection well and sometimes reciprocated fully. At Fort Sheridan, Wyoming, negro soldiers were at the station. Kutoroge was greatly excited and examined them closely. He finally asked us whether the color was temporary or permanent, and then wanted to know whether it was generally distributed over the body or confined to the face and hands.

At Seattle, on account of a bad arrangement of trains we had almost twenty-four hours to wait. Here the men were much interested in the totem-pole set up in the city and inquired about its use and the Indians, who made it. We rode over one of the great inclined cable-lines; they were a little timid and quiet on the way up, but when we came coursing down, their joy was great. Kutoroge and Goro, in particular, clapped their hands like children, jumped up and down and shouted with delight.

We were hours late in reaching Saint Louis. Mr. Hulbert was at the station waiting for our arrival and at once secured a great coach to take us in state to the Exposition grounds, where we arrived at four o’clock in the afternoon of April 6th, the group being temporarily located in the Government Indian School building. We were pressed for time; work began at the University on the 1st of April and we must reach Chicago as soon as possible. So we told the Ainu that our time for separation had come and wished them happiness. Kutoroge hastily ransacked the luggage and drew out a wooden tray with carved decoration, which he presented us on behalf of the party as a token of their affection. All followed us to the door and stood upon the topmost step; tears filled their eyes and all were sobbing; they rubbed their hands and waved them in the air and the old men stroked their beards. When almost out of sight we turned and saw them all standing as before, weeping and waving their partings.

Upon my tray are carved designs, graceful curves, fillings of criss-cross lines. The Ainu is a great carver of wooden articles and all he carves he decorates. Trays, cigarette holders, knife-handles, tobacco-boxes, pipe-holders, moustache-sticks, sheaths for knives and swords, spoons—all of these are decorated with good designs. Only one student has, so far, made a serious study of Ainu art, Dr. H. Schurtz, of Bremen, Germany. In a complete study one must investigate not only the designs cut in wood, but also the patterns embroidered on dress and the figures tattooed upon the arms and hands of women. Almost all the Ainu patterns are highly conventionalized and many of them are derived from original animal representations. On the whole Ainu art appears to be notably independent and characteristic.