We parted next morning with hearty hand-shakes, and we wished we had met with more Christian innkeepers on our journey, if this were a typical one. Just as we were starting a nice-looking young girl showed us her Bible with great pride, and I found that she could write quite well. Education seems to be almost entirely neglected in the country districts, and we have only passed one school so far as we know during our eight days’ journey. The road continued excellent, but always winds through narrow valleys and over ridges into other valleys, showing how large a part of the country is uninhabited. The hill-sides are only used as cemeteries and for producing firewood. Until we reached the high road at the end of our fifth day’s journey we met no ponies and only few pedlars; after that there were many people and animals. The pedlars seem to carry mainly cotton goods (“superior sheeting K K K” being much to the fore), summer hats, umbrellas, haberdashery, mirrors, matches, and cigarettes. The people have little money, and the things they use are of the cheapest.
Shortly after starting we met three mounted soldiers, evidently the military escort of a weary-looking Westerner seated in a ricksha, followed by another ricksha in which was seated a Korean in pale blue attire. This was the only Westerner we met during our eight days’ journey, and from this time onward we occasionally met a ricksha, though on some parts of the road it looks quite impossible for them to travel. For a distance of perhaps twenty miles the road has been planted on both sides with twigs at a distance of about a foot from one another. They look unpromising, but we were assured that they are likely to grow all right, in which case they will convert the dull road in the course of a few years to a pleasant shady avenue. Towards dusk we came to Po Chan, a Japanese military outpost. It struck us that this was probably the last opportunity of sending a telegram to announce our return to Seoul, so we at once dismounted at the telegraph office. Almost everywhere the one notice up in English is “Post—Telegraph,” but here it was in Japanese. When our wishes, however, had been explained by Mr. Chiao in writing, a telegraph form entirely made out in English was produced and the message written. It seemed such a simple matter to send it, that we were astonished at the amount of correspondence it entailed. Our names, destinations, ages, &c. &c. were demanded by the military authorities, and the little job took at least twenty minutes. At last we got away and it was quite dark before we reached our destination.
We sighed for our friendly hosts of the night before, for this time we encountered a horde of inquisitive people, who allowed us no peace; in vain we closed three doors out of the four which led from one tiny room eighteen feet square, and the paper on them was soon in shreds. At last we were driven to distraction, and closed all the peep-holes by curtains, preferring to be stifled than to endure the people any longer.
NORTH GATE, SEOUL
The eighth and last morning of our journey dawned grey and unpromising. How often have we sighed for our comfortable Chinese travelling chairs, never more than as the weary hours wore slowly away under a drizzling rain. For the last few days we had seen scarcely a flower and heard few birds; the dear larks were silent, and the passengers hurried along under umbrellas, waterproof-covered hats, and an occasional grass coat. The villages were more numerous, and wonderful groups of devil posts, ten or twelve in a row, faced each other at each end of them; many of these looked comparatively new, and were painted brick-red and green, with white markings. A noticeable feature of Korea is the absence of temples, and the disrepair of the shrines; we never saw any sign of worship by the people at these wayside shrines. They are, many of them, simply empty huts, or have a little writing on the walls, and occasionally a picture. On sacred trees strips of paper are hung, and the passer-by, if devout, adds a stone to the heap round its roots.
We donned our shilling paper coats and found them an admirable protection from the rain, but we must have been a funny sight. As we rode along we came to a Japanese regiment on the march, headed by its officers in military capes. One of the officers, despite the rain, threw his cape back in a négligé way before he met us, so that a dazzling row of decorations should not pass unobserved. Certainly his appearance was in striking contrast to ours.
We entered the city of Seoul from the north by a fine old gateway, the whole scene being most picturesque. I returned to sketch it the following day.
The impression of the country people gained by our trip was that they were not particularly friendly, but thoroughly inquisitive; it looked as if there were little extreme poverty, but a general air of comfort seemed to prevail everywhere. The village street is swept daily, so that in the early morning there is a pleasant look of tidiness about it. The cattle are sleek and well cared for, and even the dogs have a prosperous air.
Any one thinking of visiting the Diamond Mountains would do well to try and secure a competent Korean to go with them, who would be able to secure the daily fowl for dinner of which we heard, but which we never met, and to procure any other requisite. We saw no cultivation of vegetables, except small plots of onions, so that we had to rely entirely on the stores that we took with us for everything except eggs. We were told (too late) that a guide may easily be heard of at the Y.M.C.A. in Seoul. As to means of transit—there are only three; a pony, but let me add a warning on this score, namely, that one gets deadly tired of its slow walk; a native chair, consisting of a square box like an Indian dhoolie, with carriers who groan all the time; and shanks’s pony, which in the mountains is the only pleasant one. Residents in Korea have their own carrying chairs, but these are not to be hired. As regards the time of year most suitable for travelling in Korea, May is the most beautiful, or early autumn we were told, but in case of the former, mosquito curtains are a necessity. We found winter clothing requisite for April; thick tweeds and fur coat were none too warm.