The Aino Huts
Were Small And Poor, With An Unusual Number Of Bear Skulls On
Poles, And The Village Consisted Mainly Of Two Long Dilapidated
Buildings, In Which A Number Of Men Were Mending Nets.
It looked a
decaying place, of low, mean lives.
But at a "merchant's" there
was one delightful room with two translucent sides - one opening on
the village, the other looking to the sea down a short, steep
slope, on which is a quaint little garden, with dwarfed fir-trees
in pots, a few balsams, and a red cabbage grown with much pride as
a "foliage plant."
It is nearly midnight, but my bed and bedding are so wet that I am
still sitting up and drying them, patch by patch, with tedious
slowness, on a wooden frame placed over a charcoal brazier, which
has given my room the dryness and warmth which are needed when a
person has been for many hours in soaked clothing, and has nothing
really dry to put on. Ito bought a chicken for my supper, but when
he was going to kill it an hour later its owner in much grief
returned the money, saying she had brought it up and could not bear
to see it killed. This is a wild, outlandish place, but an
intuition tells me that it is beautiful. The ocean at present is
thundering up the beach with the sullen force of a heavy ground-
swell, and the rain is still falling in torrents.
I. L. B.
LETTER XL
"More than Peace" - Geographical Difficulties - Usu-taki - Swimming
the Osharu - A Dream of Beauty - A Sunset Effect - A Nocturnal Alarm -
The Coast Ainos.
LEBUNGE, VOLCANO BAY, YEZO,
September 6.
"Weary wave and dying blast
Sob and moan along the shore,
All is peace at last."
And more than peace. It was a heavenly morning. The deep blue sky
was perfectly unclouded, a blue sea with diamond flash and a "many-
twinkling smile" rippled gently on the golden sands of the lovely
little bay, and opposite, forty miles away, the pink summit of the
volcano of Komono-taki, forming the south-western point of Volcano
Bay, rose into a softening veil of tender blue haze. There was a
balmy breeziness in the air, and tawny tints upon the hill, patches
of gold in the woods, and a scarlet spray here and there heralded
the glories of the advancing autumn. As the day began, so it
closed. I should like to have detained each hour as it passed. It
was thorough enjoyment. I visited a good many of the Mororan
Ainos, saw their well-grown bear in its cage, and, tearing myself
away with difficulty at noon, crossed a steep hill and a wood of
scrub oak, and then followed a trail which runs on the amber sands
close to the sea, crosses several small streams, and passes the
lonely Aino village of Maripu, the ocean always on the left and
wooded ranges on the right, and in front an apparent bar to farther
progress in the volcano of Usu-taki, an imposing mountain, rising
abruptly to a height of nearly 3000 feet, I should think.
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