Chapter 6

ON THE MARCH, CROSSING THE SARU.

We had thought to pursue our further journey with sleds, but these failed to appear and we started off on foot. As carriers of our luggage we hired a married couple, of whom the woman appeared to be far the better man. At all events, she took the heavierkore(basket-trunk) and started off the more gaily. Both used thetara, or carry-strap passing across the forehead, in carrying their loads. We at once crossed the Saru River on the ice. It is here a broad stream, flowingbetween low terraces, back of which rise fine hills. We tramped steadily through a forest, over a somewhat rolling country, and at the end of an hour found ourselves at Neptani. Here we saw our first evidence of a bear-feast. To the east of one house was anusa, upon the middleinaoof which was fastened a bear’s head with the ears and skin yet on. Between the house and thenusawas a post, with a tuft of green at the top, to which the bear had been tied, and we could see, below the east window, the newly repaired wall, showing where the old one had been broken down at the time of the celebration. We saw plenty of similar trophynusasand other evidences of bear feasts later, but nowhere were we so fortunate as to find the feast in progress—nor did we anywhere see living bears in the villages. There were cages everywhere but all the bears had been killed.

As the bear feast is the most important Ainu ceremonial and one of the strangest customs of this strange people, we will describe it from the observations of others.

BEAR’S CAGE AND FEEDING TROUGH.

ARROW USED IN BEAR-FEAST.

Bear-hunting takes place in the late winter and early spring. In these hunts the Ainu often show great courage and intrepidity. The bear is a large, brown species, near, if not identical with, the grizzly bear. When one is killed it is ceremoniously treated. Salutations and apologies are made to the body. It is then skinned and the head and skin are laid out and decorated with ribbons,inaoshavings, etc. Feasting ensues and the whole occasion is one of joy and gaiety. But this isnotthe “bear-feast.” When on these bear-hunts, the Ainu are particularly anxious to capture a little bear cub, which is taken home alive, and given over to a woman for raising. There has been much debate over the question whether shesuckles it as she would her baby. It has often been affirmed that she does and has often been denied. When Mr. Batchelor wroteThe Ainu of Japan, he was anxious not to admit the claim. Since then, however, he has actually seen the little animal suckled by women, several times. On one occasion, when he was preaching in a house, the little cub was taken into the service and was passed from one woman to another and suckled, in the most matter-of-fact way. Later on, though no longer suckled, the pet bear is most carefully fed; sometimes the woman will give it a soft morsel with her lips. When the animal is too large to be longer kept in the house and petted, it is put out into the cage, constructed of a cob-work of logs and raised a little above the ground on posts. In feeding it there, a special wooden trough with a handle is used. Formerly the bear was kept two or three years in the village; now one rarely sees a bear more than a year old in the cages. Finally the time for the great ceremonial arrives. Food and drink are prepared in large quantities—millet cakes or dumplings, millet beer, and saké (Japanese rice brandy). Guests from other villages are invited. Everyone is dressed in their finest clothing. The older and more important men wear their crowns. The men have bathed and their foreheads and the back of their necks have been shaved and their hair trimmed; bathing, shaving and hair trimming regularly occur but oncea year. Abundance of freshinaoare cut. A preliminary feasting takes place, at which the men seat themselves in a semi-circle to the east of the house, facing thenusa, near the food and drink, which are placed before them; the women sit behind the men. Presently a man, chosen for that service, goes to the bear’s cage, where he salaams and makes an address to the captive. Mr. Batchelor prints one such address, as follows: “Oh thou divine one, thou wast sent into the world for us to hunt. Oh, thou precious little divinity, we worship thee; pray hear our prayer. We have nourished thee and brought thee up with a deal of pains and trouble, all because we love thee so. Now, as thou hast grown big, we are about to send thee to thy father and mother. When thou comest to them please speak well of us, and tell them how kind we have been; please come to us again and we will sacrifice thee.” Two young men, one on either side, now noose the bear with lassoes and drag him out among the people. Armed with bows and peculiar arrows, with blunt, wooden points, they shoot at him to tease and irritate him. Such arrows are not used on any other occasion, and the tips are stained black after which ornamental patterns are cut through, to show the whitewood beneath; a bit of red flannel is added at the very tip. After being led around for some time, the animal is tied to a stout stake driven into the ground, and the teasing continues. Finally, two young men attack the animal, one seizing it by the ears and head, the other taking it by the hind quarters; a third man rushes up holding a stick by the ends in his hands and forces it between the bear’s teeth; four other men seize the animal by his legs or feet and drag them outward until the bear lies sprawling upon the ground. Two long poles are then placed, one on the ground under the bear’s throat, the other across the nape of his neck. Upon these the people crowd and weigh down to strangle the poor beast. Sometimes a man with a bow and arrow shortens the creature’s sufferings by a well-directed shot. The bear is then skinned and its head is cut off, the skin remaining attached to it. The skin and head are then laid out upon a nice mat near the east window, and decorated withinaoshavings, beads, earrings, small mirrors, etc.; a bit of its own flesh is placed under its snout; dried fish, saké or millet beer, millet dumplings, and a cup of its own meat boiled are offered to it. A worshiper addresses it in some such fashion as this: “Oh, cub, we give you theseinao, cakes, and dried fish; take them to your parents and say, ‘I have been brought up for a long time by an Ainu father and mother and have been kept from all trouble and harm; as I am now grown big, Iam come to thee. I have also brought you theseinao, cakes, and dried fish. Please rejoice.’ If you say this to them, they will be very glad.” Dancing and feasting then ensue. A cup of the animal’s flesh has meantime been boiled; after this has been offered to him, a little is given to every person present, even the children. A general feast upon the meat of the bear follows, until practically nothing is left except his bones. The head with its skin attached is then placed upon thenusaand left there. In time, through decay and weathering, only the bleached skull remains. Sometimes, anusawill bear great numbers of these skulls. At Shiraoi, we later saw somenusasthat had four or five, but we have not seen any of the great trophies, such as are figured in some books.

While the bear-feast is the greatest ceremonial of the year, it is not absolutely different from some others. Birds of various kinds,—especially the great eagle, hawk, and owl,—and other animals,—as the hare or rabbit—are sacrificed or “sent away,” in much the same way, often after having been kept in captivity for a longer or shorter time.

NUSA WITH BEAR-SKULLS: SHIRAOI.

The island of Yezo is unlike the rest of Japan, in geology, in fauna, and in flora. It is a continental island, continuing in its structure and rock formations the neighboring mainland, although it is an active volcanic area and presents some modern eruptive rocks. The island is remarkably compact and presents the least coast line to squaremile of surface of any part of the Japanese Empire. It presents the finest forests and the broadest plains of Japan, and its Ishikari is the longest Japanese river. Its coal mines are extensive and there are other sources of mineral wealth. In its fauna and flora the island is remarkably like the Eastern United States—not merely in general aspect, but in identity of species. Yezo, with its immediately neighboring islands, presents an area of 30,273 square miles, about that of South Carolina. Until recently, it has been occupied by the Ainu. As Russian aggression has been more and more feared by Japan, it became plain that Yezo, with its unaggressive population of Ainu, was a weak spot, unprotected and easily attacked, which needed to be strengthened. A policy of colonization was developed. To colonize wisely, demanded study and experiment. A geological survey was made, experimental farms were established, an agricultural college was founded, roads were built, towns were planted, industries were originated. Much of this work of development was placed in the hands of Americans, some of whom did nobly, while others betrayed their trust or failed through incapacity. Immigration was encouraged from the older and more crowded parts of the Empire. Towns, and even cities, have grown up in a few years; everything is new; life is much as that of our pioneer days and frontier settlements. All this is undoubtedly good forJapan as a nation, but it is hard upon the Ainu. In 1874 Yezo numbered 144,069 inhabitants, of whom 16,000 were Ainu; in 1899, the population was 859,534, the Ainu being reported at 17,000. This flood of Japanese immigration is largely homesteaders; each year sees the Ainu more directly in contact with Japanese neighbors and less secure in the little villages which he occupies. Such thoughts as these about the island home of the Ainu suggested themselves to our minds as we trudged over the snow through the forests.

HUNTING PARTY LEAVING FOR MOUNTAINS.

KUTOROGE.

But our walking neared its end. At Neptani we arranged for a sledge and then started on, leaving it to overtake us. Just as we left the village, we overtook a hunting party on its way to the mountains for deer. The men of the party came from two or three different villages; they carried the guns, and led the dogs; the women carried the luggage. The dogs were like coyotes in size and form and some of them were brown-gray in color; there was, however, considerable range in color. They were strangers to one another and quarrelsome, and probably several days had to elapse before they became friendly. Having exchanged greetings with the hunters and photographed the group, we journeyed on. From here the country was more broken, the terrace slope being cut by lateral gorges, opening on the Saru, which was still to our left. Before long, we were overtaken by our sled, the driver of which was a typical young fellowof some twenty-two years, beardless, indeed, but with long hair hanging, from a central parting, down upon his shoulders. Before we reached the next village, we met a man from Okotnai, whither we were bound, who told us that the man, of whom we were in search, had gone hunting. This was a dash to our hopes, for we had counted on securing him for our group. He was no doubt already in the mountains beyond our reach and not likely to return for a fortnight or more. The hunting party which we had photographed was still in sight and their leader had greatly pleased us. Asking whether we cared for him, Mr. Batchelor called him back. He told him that we wished him, with his wife and child, to go with us to the United States; that he would be gone nine months; that he should go. A look of blank helplessness came over his face, but he replied that he would have to go, of course, ifhesaid so. I now found for the first time—because the type is really very uniform, and all men of an age look alike—that he was the younger of the two men whom we had seen in the first home we visited in Upper Piratori—Kutoroge, the nephew of old Penri. This recognition recalled the older man and we suggested to Mr. Batchelor, the wish that he, too, might be secured. “Oh, yes, Kutoroge, the gentleman wants an old man, a graybeard, who knows how to make the arrow poison and to whittle theinao. Can you not find him such a man?”“Why, sir, there is my old father, you know! Would he not do? And really, if we mustdie, it is better that we should die together than separated.” “Oh, yes,” we answered, “so thereisyour father! Well, go back to your village, and tell him and make preparation, so that all may be ready when we come back to-morrow.” He agreed, but would have to go on to the next village to overtake his wife, who had gone on with the luggage, while we were talking. Thus a hunting party was left without its leader!

CROSSING A STREAM IN WINTER.

Passing Penakori, traveling through a fine hill district, for the most part wooded, near Porosaru, we came to a little stream which was open and which we had to cross by a dugout canoe. The ferryman was an old man, with fine hair and beard. He was dressed in native garments, which were old and worn. Though the weather was cold, his breast was uncovered and showed an unusually thick growth of body hair. The old man first poled us over, then brought our luggage and the box body of the sled. The driver, mounting the little horse, forded him across, dragging the runners. After we had reconstructed the sled and loaded in the baggage, we rode on through the forest, over the uneven terrace, until at last we descended to the Saru River. It was open, and projecting fringes of ice reached out from the shore over the water in a way that looked dangerous. However, we crept out on them, expecting them tobreak and let us into the water, to another canoe, poled this time by a strong, young ferryman. We crossed safely and crept out onto similar projecting ice fringes on the other side. Our driver tried to make a crossing at a ford higher up the river, but failed. Meantime we followed the river bottom for some little distance, over soft and water-soaked snow, that let us sink deeply every twoor three steps; finally, however, we mounted to the low terrace where the walking improved and were soon in the village of Osatnai. From there it was but a fifteen-minutes’ walk to Okotnai, last of this group of Saru Ainu towns and the goal of our journey. From Tomakomai, where we left the railroad, we had traveled in the three days some eighteenri, equal to about forty-five miles, distributed as shown in the following table of villages through which we passed:

It was just after noon when we arrived, going directly to Tunkamareg’s house. He had really gone hunting, but Charenga, his wife, was at home,and we were made welcome. Two families live in the house, each with two or three children. Tunkamareg and Charenga are both Ainu; the other man is Ainu, but his wife is Japanese and the little mongrel children were not much to my taste. We were cold and tired and hungry. The pot was boiling and we put some chicken that we had brought with us from Piratori in with the millet that the house supplied, and were soon eating our first Ainu meal. It was now snowing hard outside and we hugged the fire all the afternoon, while the villagers brought in all kinds of articles for sale. During the afternoon fresh venison was brought in and our evening stew was rice (secured somewhere, somehow) and deer-meat. It was interesting to watch the children of the two families quarrel over a deer-bone, fresh and bloody, which they took turns in sucking and in picking off shreds of raw meat. This house, though a true Ainu hut, is mission headquarters, and under outside influences a corner of it has been walled off into a sleeping room for Tunkamareg and his wife. This room Charenga surrendered to us for the night. In it was one of Mr. Batchelor’s little stoves, but it smoked badly; the night was cold and the room draughty, yet on the whole we were more comfortable when the fire went out. All night we suffered from the bitter cold.

TYPICAL AINU HOUSE: SHIRAOI.

We were up early and left betimes. The only sled that could be secured was too small to domore than take our baggage, increased as it was by purchases! So we walked. Mr. Batchelor, more accustomed to this exercise and to Japan’s atmosphere and with little on his bones to carry, kept up a lively pace; Manuel did fairly; but the “leader” of the expedition played out completely before he reached Porosaru, by which time the party was strung out in three sections, along a couple of miles or so of road. It was with joy that he finally met an Ainu boy, with a little sled for dragging wood, who bore a written message stating that he was in our employ! At Porosaru the party was reunited and we made a visit of ceremony at the rather large house of an Ainu of consequence. We entered through the south door and were seated upon handsome mattings, which were folded and laid upon boxes at the east end of the fireplace. Here we photographed the interior of the hut, but our negative was bad; it was a pity, for the northeast corner full of treasures was fine. We had better success in photographing a Japanese lacquered tray, upon which, wrapped ininaoshavings, were three skulls—those of an otter, a fox, and an albatross.

MOUSTACHE LIFTERS OR LIBATION STICKS.

Our driver, acting under instructions, had hurried on to Neptani, where he had aroused the village, making an especial search for moustache sticks, with designs in high relief. His search had been rewarded and we carried away two—both, unfortunately, lacquered, but well made.One of them bore the figure of a bear in full relief about an inch high, in front of which was a swimming whale; the other bore three mountains. He had other things awaiting inspection, too—fine dresses, necklaces, swords, and scabbards, carved tobacco-boxes, and the like. We took in a rich harvest, but what pleased us most after the two moustache sticks, was a fine fetish bird-skull wrapped ininaoshavings. This was the third example of its kind that we had seen. The first was at Piratori, where the wrapped skull belonged to a woman who was “in an interesting condition,” and we thought it unwise to offer to make the purchase; the second was at the house of Porosaru, where the skulls were so carefully guarded and apparently so highly prized, that we did not hint at purchase; here the skull had been lately used and we could see the spot from which bone powder had been scraped for use as a remedy. The house belonged to particular friends of Mr. Batchelor, and after little demur, we carried the skull away in triumph.

Perhaps the moustache lifter is peculiar to the Ainu. At any rate, it is characteristic of them, and upon it they lavish their utmost artistic efforts. It is a thin, flat stick, measuring some eight, ten, or twelve inches in length by about an inch in width; the ends are angular, one being broadly obtuse, almost squared, and the other sharpened to almost a real point. The upper surface iscarved with decorative designs, the work in some cases being admirable. The patterns are, mostly, curved-line conventions. Recent specimens are all carved in low relief; some of the older ones bear full round figures. Usually made in plain wood of light color, they were sometimes turned over to Japanese neighbors to be lacquered. These curious sticks serve a double purpose; the sharper end is dipped into saké or millet beer, and then drops are sprinkled from it to divine beings, in drinking, on ceremonial occasions. On such occasions the cups of drink are set out upon the ground before the guests, with moustache sticks laid across them. The art of carving these sticks is now neglected and the finer specimens are all old. The old artist used to leave his mark cut on the under side—some simple device, as a triangle, some crossing lines, etc. These moustache sticks had a great attraction for us and we secured scores of them. Most of my finest specimens bear the same maker’s mark, a simple, unequally impressed, solid triangle, apparently made with a punch. While such moustache lifters figure generally on ceremonial occasions, there is also a special ceremonial type. It is whittled from fresh wood; no decorative designs are carved upon it, but rolls of shavings are whittled up at three places on the upper side.

At the house where we had stopped, lived a paralytic. On our arrival we had dismissed ourlittle wood sled and our old driver had arranged for two good sleds with boxes. When we were ready to start, we found we were not to be alone. Our driver took an Ainu woman and all the luggage into his sled; into the other, we packed a company consisting of the driver, a fine bearded subject, the paralytic, two women, Manuel and myself. We expected Mr. Batchelor also, but when he saw the prospects, he sniffed in derision and stalked off down the road. Our driver was a fine type, but he was stupid and careless. We were going gaily, packed as close as sardines in a box, when in crossing a little brook, we struck some obstacle and were all spilled out onto the snow. Fortunately none of us fell into the brook and no one was hurt. We picked up the paralytic and put him into the sled, repacked ourselves and were off again. We soon overtook Mr. Batchelor, readjusted the two loads, taking him in, and went on. Before long we were again at the Saru River, and crossing on foot, over the ice, were at Upper Piratori at four o’clock.

SANGYEA.

We found that the old man refused to go with us. He was too old and frail to make so long and difficult a journey. Kutoroge had, however, picked out a man at Lower Piratori, whom he had persuaded to go, taking his wife and little girl. They were submitted to our inspection and proved highly satisfactory. Sangyea has graying hair, a gray beard, and a patriarchal aspect; he wearsgreat hoop earrings and a well embroidered ceremonial garment. Santukno, his wife, is charmingly ugly, with a broad and heavy lower face, prominent jaws, and a fine tattooing on face and arms. She is a kind soul and suffers from a curious nervous trouble, which they callimuand which seems somewhat mysterious. Those who areimuare terribly afraid of snakes, and the sight of one, or even mention of one, throws them into a state of rigidity. Certain words or sounds have a similar effect. When the subjects are in this abnormal condition, they lose their self-control and mumble or grimace and are apt to do the opposite of what they are ordered.

In the evening, after another treat to coffee and tea cakes at Miss Bryant’s, we went to Kutoroge’s house to draw up the necessary documents. The old man and Kutoroge received us in a stately manner. We went into the front room, for the house has two, theshembeing, apparently, an old house, and squatted down in two facing lines—Mr. Batchelor, Manuel, and I, facing the clerk, the policeman, Kutoroge, Shutratek, Sangyea, and Santukno. We all went through the formal salutations of hand-rubbing, hand-waving, and beard-stroking. I then paid one month’s full salary in advance. The clerk drew up formal receipts, which were signed, sealed, and witnessed. The necessary data were taken down for securing legal applications for passports to leave the country.

SANTUKNO.

All formalities having been thus observed, we were ready to leave. Money was supplied for securing the necessary equipment for the house at Saint Louis and for bringing all to the railroad and we told them when they must appear at Sapporo. In the morning, our only conveyances were two small-box, single-horse, two-wheeled carts. One of these we loaded full with our baggage. Into the other Manuel and I crowded ourselves, sitting on the board bottom, with our legs stretched stiffly crosswise of the cart. When Mr. Batchelor chose to ride, we all three adopted some sort of a kneeling or crouching position. Progress was slow and uncomfortable. Sometimes we stopped to make photographs, and on one such stop were able to test this statement in Mr. Batchelor’s book: “They cut the fat part of the legs of both males and females at the joint near the pelvis, and then bind the wound up with the leather-like layers of the fungus mycelium found between the bark and the wood of dead oak, elm, or ash trees.” I had been questioning him about this practice, raising a query as to its purpose and its generality. As we were passing through a village, we met a woman with a baby in her arms, and Mr. Batchelor inquired of her in regard to it. After a little hesitation, she showed me the baby, a little girl perhaps less than a year old. It had been cut only on the left side, back on the inside of the leg, just below the buttocks. The cut hadhealed, but the scar was quite plain. The woman said they do it with babies that kick and squirm too much. While the practice is probably not general it is certainly common and widespread, occurring in several, if not all, villages.

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 abashacame 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 thebashaof yesterdayand 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 theSan 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 arecarefully 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 paintedkakemono, 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 owninterest 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 fortyprintedJapanese 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 braveenough, 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 gamelaws, 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 wasanxiousto 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 whittlinginao, 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 ashemofnormal 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 ofnusa, east window, sacred corner, andshem. 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.Nusasare fine and numerous, and there are bear skulls on many of them. Here we noticed more conspicuously than elsewhere a secondarynusa, or rather a little group ofinaostuck 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 withinaoshavings. 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 cutinaowere set in line west of the fireplace; nextcame three skulls wrapped ininaoshavings, in a tray; next were two highinaoand 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 aninaofrom 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 theinao, taking the moustache-lifter that lay across the cup, dipped it and sprinkled theinao. He then carried this to thenusa, 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; thethird, the central one, who had placed theinao, then received the cup and made libation, but did not sprinkle his companions. All three then walked to thenusaand 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 householdinao, which stands in the extreme northeast corner of the house and ought never to be removed. It is an upright stick to which looseinaocurls 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 freshinaoshavings in honor of yesterday’sfeast. 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.

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