At the office of the Steamship Company we procured tickets, and were amused at having to give our ages to be inscribed on the tickets, which cost yen 14.70 (about twenty-nine shillings) to Wonsan, first class, a passage of between thirty to forty hours in length. The boat was a fair size, and was heavily laden with timber and petroleum. The staff was entirely Japanese, and little English was understood, but European requirements and wishes did not need to be explained, so we had no difficulty. A more lovely sight than the bay as we steamed out of it past the four sentinel rocks at the entrance in the level rays of the setting sun would be hard to imagine, and one could not but remember how securely hidden the Japanese fleet lay there in wait for the Russian before the great battle in which the Baltic fleet was destroyed.
Our course followed the outline of the coast pretty closely, and the mountains still had touches of snow on them, like veins outlining their shapes. The mountains come quite close down on to the shore, and little cultivation is to be seen on this side of the peninsula. On the eastern coast of Korea there is a tide of only six or eight inches, whereas on the western coast it is no less than twenty-seven feet three inches, one of the highest tides in the world.
There were few birds visible—only an occasional seagull or cormorant, and the white-sailed boats that we had seen thronging the bay of Fusan were conspicuous by their absence. Hour after hour passed without a sign of life being visible. Fortunately the sea was calm, and the next morning but one we reached Wonsan at about 6 A.M. We had to land in small boats, and were met by a party of missionaries, with whom we walked through a good part of the modern town. It is well laid out, and has wide roads leading to the quarters where the American missionaries live on the slopes of hills overlooking the sea and embowered in trees. The Japanese name for Wonsan is Gensan.
CHAPTER XII
The Diamond Mountains
Our friends had kindly begun before our arrival at Wonsan to make arrangements for the trip which we wished to take through the Diamond Mountains, so that a few hours sufficed to complete them. An attractive route was suggested by a native who knew the passes; the time at our disposal was only eight days, so we were obliged to give up all hope of doing the principal pass, which is lofty and very arduous for travellers. The one selected took us through a fine part of the chain of mountains which runs down the eastern coast of Korea, and enabled us to visit an important monastery. We started with four ponies and three men to look after them, and the price stipulated was 64 yen (a little over £6), the distance to be covered being approximately 225 miles. It was probable that the men would get some loads for the return journey, but that could not be counted on. We had no saddles, so our bed bags had to take their place, but they made precarious seats. At first one thought it would be only possible to retain one’s seat by holding on all the time, and the thought of the necessity of using a handkerchief owing to a severe cold in the head was an anxious one, but time soon made us able to dispense with any grip. Mr. Chiao found his bedding a much more satisfactory seat than ours, for the usual Chinese bed bag seems to have been specially devised for the purpose; he looked completely at his ease, though he had never ridden before, and he hopped on and off his pony with astonishing rapidity. The fourth beast carried our two modest baskets of stores and clothing, and the cots which had been kindly lent to us for the occasion. Having lost our umbrellas we bought Korean paper waterproof coats, at the cost of about one shilling each, and waterproof paper for lining our other things, as there was some fear of wet weather on the mountains.
We set off about 2 o’clock with the intention of doing fifteen miles that evening, but it is always difficult to make a good start, and various hindrances delayed us, such as a ferry-boat with no ferryman, and the boat on the wrong side of the river. After a little time a woman came slowly down to the ferry and got into the boat, so our men exhorted her to pull herself across by means of the rope; this, however, she declined to do, and sat patiently waiting for some one else to come and take her across. It was only when we saw her close at hand that we discovered she was blind, so probably that had made her afraid of crossing alone. We became very impatient as time went on and no one appeared; I urged our men to ford the stream higher up, which was evidently a frequented route. However, they were too timorous, and were afraid of trying an unknown path, so we lost much valuable time. It was only at the close of our journey that we learned that none of the men had traversed any part of our route previously; naturally the result was that they constantly made mistakes and took us out of the direct route. At last, just as we were beginning to despair, some one arrived who towed the ferry-boat over the river, and we set off across some ploughed fields towards the foot of the hills. It was dusk when we reached a village which our men said was the halting-place, and only next day we discovered that they had stopped three miles short of the right stage. We were shown into a small room about twelve feet square, from which the women of the house were ejected though their clothing draped the walls, and big chests further diminished our space. All Korean houses have a small platform outside them, either planking or made of dried mud, on which the shoes are left before any one enters. The floors are heated from below and covered with matting, so that chairs are considered unnecessary, and the Koreans enjoy the heat which penetrates through the bedding on which they lie at nights. We found it decidedly trying, despite having the door open and cots to sleep on; but we were delighted to find the houses so much cleaner than we expected. On the whole they look unquestionably cleaner in the country villages than in the corresponding ones at home. It was a little difficult to sleep, what with the heat and the noise, for the men require two hours to get up and breakfast, and we were off by 6 o’clock.
The second day we travelled mostly parallel with the seashore, and got more accustomed to riding our steeds. It was a perfect day with radiant sunshine, and one received an impression of universal content and comfort. The people looked for the most part respectably dressed and housed, and “every prospect pleased.” The villages seemed well supplied with cattle, pigs, fowls, and firewood, and within the houses were goodly array of bowls and brass utensils brilliantly polished. When we stopped at midday the horses were unloaded and given a hot sort of bran mash. The Korean pony is a hardy creature, capable of great labour and wonderfully sure-footed, but he requires three hot meals per day, that is to say, a large quantity of hot water with more or less of boiled beans and rice chaff in it. He appears to be eating all night long except when he is fighting his next-door neighbour. His mapoo or groom brushes him assiduously with a little round brush before loading, though it never has any visible effect on the beast’s coat—a more unkempt-looking animal is not to be found anywhere. The stable and kitchen of Korean inns seem to consist in a single room, one wall having a long row of stoves so that various big pans can be cooking at the same time. The chimney of a house is generally quite detached from the building, for it is connected with flues which underlie the whole house, heating every room (see illustration, p. 10). At meal-times the men each had a little round table, about four inches in diameter, on which were a large brass bowl of rice, another of water, and two or three small earthenware dishes of vegetable, or fish, or other condiments. These little tables are very neat, and the food attractively served. The Koreans required two hours always at midday, for the men lie down and go to sleep after they have eaten.
Our way led us up hill and down dale, and in the course of the day we walked down five precipitous hills, on two of which there were large gangs of navvies making the road. They use a peculiar spade with a long handle, partly shod at the spatula-shaped end with iron, to which was attached a rope on each side worked by separate individuals, so that it required three men to wield it. Everywhere the country was being prepared for the crops. The rice fields seemed to occupy the main part of the land under cultivation, and were being ploughed by cattle. None of the ground was pasture land—we have not seen a single sheep since we came to Korea; there were some flocks of goats to be seen from the railway, but no other animals grazing. The cattle are singularly fine, but are only used in agriculture and as beasts of burden; the loads of wood that they carry are so large that hardly more of the beast is to be seen than the legs. The same may be said of the loads carried by men and boys.