<h2><SPAN name="page231"></SPAN>LETTER XXXV.—(<i>Continued</i>.)</h2>
<p id="page231"><span class="smcap">Sarufuto</span>.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">No</span>! Nature has no
discords. This morning, to the far horizon,
diamond-flashing blue water shimmered in perfect peace, outlined
by a line of surf which broke lazily on a beach scarcely less
snowy than itself. The deep, perfect blue of the sky was
only broken by a few radiant white clouds, whose shadows trailed
slowly over the plain on whose broad bosom a thousand corollas,
in the glory of their brief but passionate life, were drinking in
the sunshine, wavy ranges slept in depths of indigo, and higher
hills beyond were painted in faint blue on the dreamy sky.
Even the few grey houses of Yubets were spiritualised into
harmony by a faint blue veil which was not a mist, and the loud
croak of the loquacious and impertinent crows had a cheeriness
about it, a hearty mockery, which I liked.</p>
<p>Above all, I had a horse so good that he was always trying to
run away, and galloped so lightly over the flowery grass that I
rode the seventeen miles here with great enjoyment. Truly a
good horse, good ground to gallop on, and sunshine, make up the
sum of enjoyable travelling. The discord in the general
harmony was produced by the sight of the Ainos, a harmless people
without the instinct of progress, descending to that vast tomb of
conquered and unknown races which has opened to receive so many
before them. A mounted policeman started with us from
Yubets, and rode the whole way here, keeping exactly to my pace,
but never speaking a word. We forded one broad, deep river,
and crossed another, partly by fording <SPAN name="page232"></SPAN>and partly
in a scow, after which the track left the level, and, after
passing through reedy grass as high as the horse’s ears,
went for some miles up and down hill, through woods composed
entirely of the <i>Ailanthus glandulosus</i>, with leaves much
riddled by the mountain silk-worm, and a ferny undergrowth of the
familiar <i>Pteris aquilina</i>. The deep shade and
glancing lights of this open copsewood were very pleasant; and as
the horse tripped gaily up and down the little hills, and the sea
murmur mingled with the rustle of the breeze, and a glint of
white surf sometimes flashed through the greenery, and
dragonflies and butterflies in suits of crimson and black velvet
crossed the path continually like “living flashes” of
light, I was reminded somewhat, though faintly, of windward
Hawaii. We emerged upon an Aino hut and a beautiful placid
river, and two Ainos ferried the four people and horses across in
a scow, the third wading to guide the boat. They wore no
clothing, but only one was hairy. They were superb-looking
men, gentle, and extremely courteous, handing me in and out of
the boat, and holding the stirrup while I mounted, with much
natural grace. On leaving they extended their arms and
waved their hands inwards twice, stroking their grand beards
afterwards, which is their usual salutation. A short
distance over shingle brought us to this Japanese village of
sixty-three houses, a colonisation settlement, mainly of
<i>samurai</i> from the province of Sendai, who are raising very
fine crops on the sandy soil. The mountains, twelve miles
in the interior, have a large Aino population, and a few Ainos
live near this village and are held in great contempt by its
inhabitants. My room is on the village street, and, as it
is too warm to close the <i>shôji</i>, the aborigines stand
looking in at the lattice hour after hour.</p>
<p>A short time ago Mr. Von Siebold and Count Diesbach galloped
up on their return from Biratori, the Aino village to which I am
going; and Count D., throwing himself from his horse, rushed up
to me with the exclamation, <i>Les puces</i>! <i>les
puces</i>! They have brought down with them the chief,
Benri, a superb but dissipated-looking savage. Mr. Von
Siebold called on me this evening, and I envied him his fresh,
clean clothing as much as he envied me my stretcher and
mosquito-net. They have suffered terribly from fleas,
mosquitoes, and <SPAN name="page233"></SPAN><span class="pagenum">p.
233</span>general discomfort, and are much exhausted; but Mr. Von
S. thinks that, in spite of all, a visit to the mountain Ainos is
worth a long journey. As I expected, they have completely
failed in their explorations, and have been deserted by
Lieutenant Kreitner. I asked Mr. Von S. to speak to Ito in
Japanese about the importance of being kind and courteous to the
Ainos whose hospitality I shall receive; and Ito is very
indignant at this. “Treat Ainos politely!” he
says; “they’re just dogs, not men;” and since
he has regaled me with all the scandal concerning them which he
has been able to rake together in the village.</p>
<p>We have to take not only food for both Ito and myself, but
cooking utensils. I have been introduced to Benri, the
chief; and, though he does not return for a day or two, he will
send a message along with us which will ensure me
hospitality.</p>
<p style="text-align: right">I. L. B.</p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />