Pauline was rather anxious to pay a visit to the lepers, as she remarked, ‘When one is in for a thing it is best to miss nothing.’ But I stoutly refused to go. The memory of the poor crippled, deformed and suffering creatures I had seen in the streets of Kusatzu was quite enough. In fact, I found sleep almost impossible that night. The groans of the unfortunate bathers rang in my ears, and my dreams were peopled with visions of horrors of every description.
We were lodged in a quaint little cardboard house, innocent of furniture, but, fortunately, comparatively clean, and we made ourselves fairly comfortable on a couple of ‘futons’ which Idaka secured for us; and we were too tired after our long day to find fault with our quarters.
The next morning I thought I would try the effects of a warm sulphur swimming-bath attached to the house. Milky-looking water bubbled up out of the white rocks, and the sensation as I plunged in was rather pleasant. After swimming and floating about for a few minutes, I heard a splash, and looking round, I saw, to my horror, a dark head rising out of the water at the other end of the bath. What on earth to do I knew not. As long as I was in the water at my end of the bath it was all very well, but, unfortunately, I had left my clothes hanging on a nail on the door at the other end! I waited, hoping the intruder might recognise my predicament and have the grace to depart. On the contrary, he seemed prepared to spend hours at his morning ablutions. Apparently he paid not the smallest attention to poor me, but went through strange contortions in the water, accompanying his movements with a weird incantation I suppose he considered music. Feeling desperate, as the strong sulphur water was rapidly making me faint, I waved my arms frantically in his direction and pointed to my garments on the door. Then my companion evidently grasped the situation, and a wide grin spread over his countenance as he dived down into the water. I waited a moment, but, as he did not reappear, I scrambled as fast as I could on to the rocks, rushed to the door, tore on my clothes, and vanished. Whether the grinning little face ever appeared again on the surface I know not, but when I reached my room, breathless and exhausted, I vowed that nothing on earth would again tempt me to take a sulphur bath.
After breakfast, although still feeling very sleepy and tired from the effects of my prolonged swim, Pauline and I started for a walk, escorted by Idaka, to the ‘Valley of the Iced Winds.’ What a desolate spot it was! The rocks were of every conceivable shade and colour--some orange, some green, others bright yellow and red, encrusted with the mineral deposit from the little streams with which they were intersected. Some of the streams were boiling hot, others icy cold, but all had a strong sulphurous smell; and we were surprised to see vegetation growing almost to the edge of the water. In one place, however, the fumes of sulphur were so strong that no bird could pass above without being killed, and we were glad enough to get away, feeling half suffocated.
During the rest of the day we explored the village and made friends with some of the patient sufferers, who live most of their time when not at the baths sitting on the rocks in the sun. Some come every year to Kusatzu, spending all their hard-earned savings in the hope of deriving benefit by the treatment; but many looked far too weak and feeble for such drastic remedies.
The following morning we left at 7 a.m. for the Shibu Pass, a stiff bit of riding; and the cold at the summit was very piercing--a height of over seven thousand feet. We were very glad of our tiffin in a little rest-house, seated close to a peat fire. Pauline and I had at last accomplished the trick of eating rice with chopsticks--not an easy matter to the uninitiated. With that and some hard-boiled eggs and sandwiches we managed to fortify ourselves for our downward journey.
PREPARED FOR THE NIGHT (p. 49).
After a brisk tramp of about three hours, we reached Shibu, a pretty little town situated in a valley, surrounded by mountains. We found the tea-house so full, on account of the arrival of a party of pilgrims on their way to Asamayama, the great sacred volcano, that we had to do with very small accommodation--in fact, a large blue mosquito-like cage only separated us from the rest of the lady visitors at the tea-house. There being only two spare rooms, one was reserved for the ladies and the other for the gentlemen of the party.
How we laughed as we lay in our blue cage and watched the little ladies preparing for the night! Sleep was practically impossible, owing to the mosquitos and other lively inhabitants of the room and the incessant tap-tap of the little Japanese pipes which, even in her slumbers, a Japanese lady seems to require.