We were delighted by the wild flowers just coming into blossom—hepaticas of shades varying from purest white to deep blue; large round-faced yellow heartsease; various colours of violets, and the sweetest large white ones; deep-red hairy anemones, and white crocus.
As we had only come twelve instead of fifteen miles the previous night we decided that we must make it up, or the other stages arranged would be impossible, but at such a suggestion our men looked black and greatly demurred. They said thirty-seven miles was too long a journey; and when we came to a village nestling under the slope of a hill covered with fine pine-trees in which numbers of herons were clamorously preparing to roost, we were obliged to admit that it was no wonder the men were anxious to stop there. The place was thoroughly picturesque and showed signs of activity; there was even a police officer standing near the invariable notice board which adorns every village in Korea since the Japanese occupation. We pushed on and only stopped a moment to sketch a particularly good specimen of devil posts, of which we had seen numbers on the road. It is considered meritorious to add a stone to one of these wayside heaps, which takes the place of shrines. We spent the night at a small village, only arriving at dusk after thirteen and a half hours’ travelling; and we were not sorry to tumble into our cots after a short meal, to put out our lights, and so escape the curiosity of the natives, which we find a great trial. It is well-nigh impossible to shut the doors for more than a few minutes, or you feel asphyxiated, and it is only when the light is out that the eager villagers cease to gaze. One was reduced to the necessity of washing in the dark or getting up in the middle of the night to do it.
DEVIL POSTS
‘TEN PARTS IMPERFECT ONE’
The third day’s journey began under a grey and uncertain-looking sky, but the sun shone out at intervals as we made our way along the seashore. My guide insisted I should ride with a foot on each side of my good beast’s neck, but that brought disaster, for it meant nothing to cling to, so a sudden spring forward of the beast, resultant on an unseen prod in the back, landed me promptly in the dust. My mapoo tried to break the fall, but only succeeded in getting a blow on his mouth. Seeing I was not seriously damaged he made a pitiable appeal to my sympathy, opening a wide mouth in which I expected to see several teeth lying about. There was no sign of disaster except a few drops of blood, which seemed to distress him acutely, but the other men all roared with laughter and told him to wash in the stream close by. He didn’t cease being sorry for himself for quite a long while, and the weird songs with which he had previously beguiled the road ceased for half a day. We passed many small fishing hamlets, and were interested to see what a variety of fish the women had in their baskets, of which many were unknown to us. Flounders seem quite common, and in Seoul we noticed much larger herrings than any seen at home; all fish is much more expensive there than in London, owing to the Japanese monopoly, but happily for the little villages, they are so far beyond the beat of the foreigner that they are left unmolested; indeed we saw no Japanese after leaving Wonsan till that afternoon, when we were astonished at the sound of a siren, and turning a corner came into an exquisite little land-locked harbour, evidently a naval base, and completely concealed from the sea. Numbers of sea-gulls and oyster-catchers were disporting themselves in the shallow basin leading from it, but our attention was riveted on the boats where gun practice was going on, though it sounded muffled.
The village of Tschagu-Tschiendogu (accordingly to the spelling in our German map) boasts of a Japanese post-office, and a Japanese woman was trotting along with a baby on her back. Passing through it we plodded through deep silver sand for some distance before turning inland, but we had a long way still to go to reach the secluded monastery, which was our resting-place for the night. We wound in among the precipitous mountains of granite formation. The rocks stood out like mammoth beasts in all sorts of strange shapes, and they looked black and forbidding in the gloom. A green serpent mottled with black gave our men quite a fright, and they continually asked the way, getting not much enlightenment. At last we penetrated into an ideal valley with cliffs towering steeply upwards to a considerable height, and showing the jagged outlines which have given the Diamond Mountains their name. The narrow track changed into a broad well-kept road, leading through a pine forest, and we had not gone more than a mile or so when we met a party of monks taking their evening stroll. The youthful looking abbot wore a chain which distinguished him from the rest, and he stepped forward, bowing politely. It was rather difficult to know how next to proceed, as none of the party seemed to understand English or Chinese; however, Mr. Chiao at once began a conversation by writing on the ground and asking if we could receive accommodation for the night. The request was readily granted, and the party of monks escorted us back.