Alone With The Hairy Ainu Part 1

Alone with the Hairy Ainu.

by A. H. Savage Landor.

PREFACE.

This book is not meant as a literary work, for I am not and do not pretend to be a literary man. It is but a record--an amplified log-book, as it were--of what befell me during my solitary peregrinations in Hokkaido, and a collection of notes and observations which I hope will prove interesting to anthropologists and ethnologists as well as to the general public.

Without any claim to infallibility I have tried to take an open-minded and sensible view of everything I have attempted to describe; in most cases, however, I have given facts without pa.s.sing an opinion at all, and all I have said I have tried to express as simply and plainly as possible, so as not to give rise to misunderstandings.

There are a few points which I want to make quite clear.

First, that I went to Hokkaido entirely on my own account and for my own satisfaction. Next, that I accomplished the whole journey (some 4200 miles, out of which 3800 were ridden on horseback and on a rough pack-saddle) perfectly alone. By alone I mean that I had with me no friends, no servants, and no guides. My baggage consisted of next to nothing, so far as articles for my own convenience or comfort were concerned. I carried no provisions and no tent.

I am endowed with a very sensitive nature, and I pride myself in possessing the gift of adaptability to an extreme degree, and this may partly explain why and how I could live so long with and like the Ainu, whose habits and customs, as my readers will see, are somewhat different to ours.

When I go to a country I do my best to be like one of the natives themselves, and, whether they are savage or not, I endeavour to show respect for them and their ideas, and to conform to their customs for the time being. I make up my mind that what is good for them must be good enough for me, and though I have occasionally had to swear at myself for "doing in Ainuland as the Ainu does," especially as regards the food, I was not much the worse for it in the end. I never use force when I can win with kindness, and in my small experience in Hokkaido and other countries I have always found that real savages in their simplicity are most "gentleman-like" people. With few exceptions they are good-natured, dignified, and sensible, and the chances are that if you are fair to them they will be fair to you. Civilised savages and barbarians I always found untrustworthy and dangerous.

The Island of Yezo, with the smaller islands near its coast, and the Kurile group, taken together, are called "the Hokkaido." The Hokkaido extends roughly from 41 to 51 lat.i.tude north, and between 139 and 157 longitude east of Greenwich.

My view of the origin of the word Ainu is this: _Ainu_ is but a corruption or abbreviation of _Ai-num_, "they with hair," or "hairy men," or else of _Hain-num_, "come with hair," or "descended hairy."

Considering that the Ainu pride themselves above all things on their hairiness, it does not seem improbable to me that this may be the correct origin of the word, and that they called themselves after the distinguis.h.i.+ng characteristic of their race.

The word Ainu is a generic term, and is used both in the singular and plural; but when specifying, the words _Kuru_ (people, men), _utaragesh_ (woman), etc., are generally added to it: viz., _Ainu kuru_, Ainu people, Ainu men; _Ainu utaragesh_, an Ainu woman; _Ainu utaragesh utara_, several Ainu women.

The Ainu population of Yezo is roughly reckoned by the j.a.panese at about 15,000 or 17,000 souls, but at least half this number are half-castes, and in my opinion (and I have visited nearly every Ainu village in Yezo) the number of thoroughbred Ainu does not exceed 8000 souls.

The ill.u.s.trations in this book are my own, and are the reproductions from sketches which I took on the spot. They may not show much artistic merit, but they seem to me to be characteristic of the country and the people, and I hope that my readers will be impressed with them in the same way.

A. HENRY SAVAGE LANDOR.

CHAPTER I.

From Hakodate to Mororran--Volcano Bay--The first Ainu--A strange Inst.i.tution among them.

I have often asked myself _why_ I went to Yezo; and, when there, what possessed me to undertake the laborious task of going round the island, up its largest rivers, travelling through jungles and round lakes, climbing its highest peaks, and then proceeding to the Kuriles. There are certain things in one's life that cannot be accounted for, and the journey which I am going to relate is one of them.

Pleasure and rest were the two princ.i.p.al objects which had primarily induced me to steer northwards; but it was my fate not to get either the one or the other.

I was on the j.a.panese s.h.i.+p the _Satsuma Maru_. Rapidly nearing the Hakodate Head, which we soon pa.s.sed, we entered the well-protected bay and the town of Hakodate at the foot of the Peak came into view. It looked extremely pretty, with its paper-walled houses and its tiled roofs, set against the background of brown rock with its fringe of green at the foot. As we cast anchor, hundreds of coolies, carrying on their backs loads of dried fish and seaweed, were running along the _bund_ or wharf. A few _musemes_ (girls), in their pretty _kimonos_ (gowns) and with oil-paper umbrellas, were toddling along on their wooden clogs, and a crowd of loafers stood gazing at the s.h.i.+p as she came to anchor. The Peak, more than 1000 feet high, was towering on our south side, forming a peninsula, joined to the mainland by a sandy isthmus, and the large bay swept round us, forming nearly a circle. The place has a striking resemblance to Gibraltar.

I landed, and put up at a tea-house, where I was in hopes of learning something regarding the island from the j.a.panese settlers, but no one knew anything. The reports that there were no roads extending beyond a few miles; that there was but very poor and scarce accommodation along the coast; that the Ainu, who lived further north, were dirty people; and that the country was full of bears, were certainly not encouraging to an intending traveller.

I must confess that my first day in Yezo was a dull one; but the second day I had the pleasure of meeting a Mr. H., a resident, who kindly offered me his hospitality, and the next two were pleasantly spent at his house. In conversation with a friend of his, I heard the remark that no man alone could possibly complete the circuit of the island of Yezo, owing to the difficulties of travel; and my readers can imagine the astonishment of my interlocutors when I meekly said, that if no one had ever done it, I was going to do it; and, indeed, that I intended to set out alone the next morning.

"Impossible!" said one, "you are too young and too delicate."

"Absurd!" said my kind host, "it would take a very strong man to do it--a man who could stand any amount of hards.h.i.+ps and roughing." At the same time he gave me a pitiful look, which undoubtedly meant, "You are a mere bag of skin and bones."

However, the bag of skin and bones kept his word, notwithstanding the poor opinion that his new friends had formed of him.

The preparations for my journey were simple. In two large j.a.panese baskets I packed three hundred small wooden panels for oil-painting, a large supply of oil colours and brushes, a dozen small sketch-books, my diary, three pairs of boots, three s.h.i.+rts, an equal number of pairs of woollen stockings, a revolver, and a hundred cartridges. The remainder of my luggage was left in charge of Mr. H. till my return. I did not burden myself with either provisions or a tent.

I rose early the following morning and bade good-bye to my kind host.

"Good-bye," said he, "I expect we shall see you back to-night to dinner." The word "dinner" was the last English word I heard from the mouth of an Englishman, and it was five long months before I heard another.

The first thirty miles of my journey were ridden in a _basha_, a covered cart built on four wheels that ought to have been round, but were not.

There were no springs for the comfort of the traveller, and no cus.h.i.+ons on the seats. The conveyance was public, and was drawn by two st.u.r.dy ponies. The driver, a j.a.panese, carried a bra.s.s trumpet, on which he continually played.

I might have begun my story by the usual "One fine day," if, unfortunately, the day on which I started the rain had not poured in torrents. A j.a.panese policeman and a girl were my only fellow-pa.s.sengers. Travelling at full gallop, on a rough road, in a trap with unsymmetrical wheels and with no springs, during a heavy storm, is scarcely what one would call a pleasant mode of progression; but after some hours of "being knocked about," we went zig-zag fas.h.i.+on, first up a steep hill, then down on the other side, giving the horses a rest at a roadside tea-house by the famous lakes of Zenzai. The larger of these two lakes--the Ko-numa--is extremely picturesque, with its numerous little islands wooded with deciduous trees. In shape it is very irregular, and many points, which project into the lake, add to the loveliness of the scene, while the high ridge over which I had come, on the one side, and the rugged volcano of Komagatake on the other, form a beautiful background to the limpid sheet of water. The outlet of this lake empties itself into Volcano Bay, S.E. of the Komagatake Volcano.

The other lake, though smaller, is quite as striking, and possesses the same characteristics of its larger brother. It goes by the name of Ono-numa. A peculiarity of these lakes is that they abound in a smallish fish--the _funa_--which is greatly appreciated by the j.a.panese.

I sat down in the tea-house on the soft mats, and my _bento_--j.a.panese lunch--was served to me on a tiny table. There was water soup; there was sea-weed; there was a bowl of rice, and raw fish. The fish--a small _funa_--was in a diminutive dish and its back was covered by a leaf; the head projected over the side of the plate. On the leaf were placed several neatly-cut pieces of the raw flesh, which had apparently been removed from the back of the underlying animal. As I had been long accustomed to j.a.panese food of this kind I ate to my heart's content, when, to my great horror, the _funa_, which had been staring at me with its round eyes, relieved of the weight that had pa.s.sed from its back into my digestive organs, leaped up, leaf and all, from the dish and fell on the mat. All the vital parts had carefully been left in the fish, and the wretched creature was still alive!

"Horrible!" I cried, violently pus.h.i.+ng away the table and walking out disgusted, to the great surprise of the people present, who expected me to revel in the deliciousness of the dish.

For days and days after I could see in my mind the staring eyes of the _funa_, watching each movement of my chopsticks, and its own back being eaten piecemeal! Wherever I went this big eye stood before me, and increased or diminished in size according to my being more or less lonely, more or less hungry. I had often eaten raw fish before, but never had I eaten live fis.h.!.+

The journey in the _basha_ was resumed that afternoon, and, more dead than alive, I alighted in the evening at Mori, a small j.a.panese village at the foot of the Komagatake Volcano. The peak of this mountain is 4000 feet above the level of the sea, but its basin-like crater is at a somewhat lower alt.i.tude. Up to a certain height it is thickly wooded with deciduous trees and firs, thence its slopes are bare of vegetation, rugged in form, and very rich in colour. It makes part of a volcanic ma.s.s which extends from the Esan Volcano, further south, to the limit of the s.h.i.+ribes.h.i.+ province, crossing straight through the province of Os.h.i.+ma as far as the Yurapdake Mountain. Komagatake is one of the most majestic and picturesque mountains I have ever seen, as it possesses lovely lines on nearly every side. Its isolation and sudden sharp elevation, rising as it does directly from the sea, gives, of course, a grand appearance to its weird and sterile slopes, which are covered with warmly-tinted cinders, pumice, and lava.

I went over to Mororran, across Volcano Bay, and the following morning I risked my life on a small craft, which took me over to Mombets. From this place I rode on to Uso and Aputa, two Ainu villages at a short distance from each other.

Coming from j.a.pan the first thing that strikes a traveller in the Ainu country is the odour of dried fish, which one can smell everywhere; the next is the great number of crows--the scavengers of the country; lastly, the volcanic nature of the island. On visiting an Ainu village what impressed me most were the miserable and filthy huts, compared with the neat and clean j.a.panese houses; the poverty and almost appalling dirt of the people and their gentle, submissive nature.

I shall not dwell at length on these Volcano Bay Ainu, as this part of the country is comparatively civilised, and has been travelled over by many people previous to my going there. Besides, most of them have intermarried with j.a.panese, and have consequently adopted many j.a.panese customs and manners.

The Ainu of the coast build their huts generally on a single line, near the sh.o.r.e, and each family has its "dug out" canoe drawn up on the beach, ready to hand when wanted. The huts are small and miserable-looking, and they have no furniture or bedding to speak of.

The roof and walls are thatched with _arundinaria_, but so imperfectly that wind and rain find easy access through their reedy covering.

Curiosity is the only good quality which I ever possessed, and in obedience to it I poked my nose into several of the huts along the beach. This was a mistake on my part, for in the Ainu country the nose is the last thing one ought to poke in anywhere. I was more than astonished to see how human beings could live in such filth! The natives kindly asked me to enter, and I of course did so, stooping low through the small door and raising the mat which protects the aperture. When I was in I could smell a great deal more than I could see, for the east window--the size of a small handkerchief, and the only one in the hut--did not give light enough to illuminate the premises. However, I soon got accustomed to the dimness, and then I could make out my surroundings clearly enough. There was an old man, perfectly naked, with a fine head, long white hair and beard, sitting on the ground among a ma.s.s of seaweeds, which he was disentangling and packing. Two young women and two young men, with bright, intelligent eyes and high cheek-bones, were helping him in his work. In their quiet, gentle way they all brought their hands forward, each rubbed the palms together, and, lifting the arms, slowly stroked their hair, and the men their beard with the backs of their hands, while the women rubbed the first finger under the nose from the left to the right. This is their salutation, and it is most graceful. They seemed pleased to see me, and asked me to sit down. As there were neither chairs nor sofas, stools nor cus.h.i.+ons, I squatted on the ground.

[Ill.u.s.tration: AINU WOMAN SALUTING.]

Most Ainu of Volcano Bay understand j.a.panese, and they also speak it, interpolating Ainu words when necessary, so I began a conversation. My presence did not seem to disturb them or arouse their curiosity, and, beyond gazing at the mother-of-pearl b.u.t.tons on my white coat, they did not appear to be struck by me. Evidently the b.u.t.tons were much more interesting to them than the person who wore them. Now and then they uttered a few words, but whenever one spoke some of the company seemed to be angry, as at an impertinence or a breach of etiquette. Men and women wore large ear-rings or pieces of red or black cloth, which added a great deal to their picturesqueness; but the women were disfigured by a long moustache tattooed across the face from ear to ear. Rough drawings adorn the arms and hands of the women, and some of the younger females would undoubtedly be fine-looking if not disfigured by the tattoos, for they carry themselves well when walking, and possess comely features. Judging from appearances, I should think them very pa.s.sionate.

Coming out of the hut I saw a scene which I shall never forget. Two naked boys, covered with horrible skin eruptions, had got hold of a large fish-bone, out of which they were endeavouring to make a meal.

Round them were gathered about thirty dogs, wild with hunger, barking furiously at the frightened children, and attacking and fighting them for that miserable repast.

I walked along the beach, and endeavoured to make friends with some of the Ainu who were less shy than the others. One little girl was especially picturesque. She was only about ten, and her large eyes, tanned complexion, white teeth, the tiny bluish-black tattoo on her upper lip, her uncombed long black hair flying around her, and her red cloth ear-rings, made her indeed one of the quaintest studies of colour that I have seen in my life. I got her to sit for me; and while I was painting her, an old man, the chief of the village, dressed up in a gaudy costume, with a crown of willow shavings on his head, came to me and made his "salaams." He bore the name of Angotsuro, and before all his salaams were over he found himself "caught in the action" in my sketch-book. Many of the villagers had collected round, and one of them, a half-caste, expressed the wish that I should paint the chief in colours, like the picture of the girl. I asked for nothing better, and started an oil-sketch of him. The excitement of the natives who were witnessing the operation grew greater and greater as each new ornament in the chief's dress was put in the picture. Some seemed to approve of it, others were grumpy, and apparently objected to the picture being taken at all. The _seance_ was indeed a stormy one; and though the chief had his regal crown knocked off his head two or three times by the anti-artistic party, he sat well for his likeness, especially as I promised him in j.a.panese, that when the picture was completed he should be given a few coins and two b.u.t.tons off my coat.

It was while portraying him that I noticed what extraordinary effects colours produce on those whose eyes are unaccustomed to them. A man in the crowd would get excited, and open his eyes wide and show his teeth every time I happened to touch with my brush the cobalt blue on my palette. Other colours had not the same effect on him. His eyes were continually fixed on the blue, anxiously waiting for the brush to dip in it, and this would then send him into fits of merriment. I squeezed some blue paint from a tube on to the palm of his hand, and he nearly went off his head with delight. He sprang and jumped and yelled, and then ran some way off, where he squatted on the sand, still in admiration of the blue dab on his hand, still grinning at intervals with irrepressible enjoyment. Where the point of the joke was no one but himself ever knew.

When the picture was finished I had no little trouble to keep the many fingers of my audience off the wet painting. Moreover, some person endowed with kindly feelings threw a handful of sand in my face, which nearly blinded me for the moment and partly ruined the two pictures I had painted. The money and the b.u.t.tons were duly paid to Angotsuro and I moved on.