The following morning, I joined an early party for the excursion to Lake Hakone. It was a glorious day and promised well for the hoped-for view of Mt. Fujiyama, 12,000 feet above the sea.
The way is too rough and mountainous to be taken other than in a sedan chair. At first we had lovely mountain scenery, then the road grew wilder and mountain gorges appeared on either hand, then in one place there were far distant mountains, a nearer range almost sloping to our pathway. Sometimes the ascent was so steep and the path so narrow that it required much holding on to retain the seat in the chair.
This was even more difficult when we began to make our descent to the village, which is, however, 2378 feet above the sea (Miyanoshita is 1377 feet). The little Japanese tea-house where we tarried and had our luncheon is finely located close to the shore of Lake Hakone, a beautiful body of water with wooded shores. This lake is popular for boating and bathing.
From the window we looked out on the distant sacred mountain, Fujiyama, which is revered by all Japan. Sometimes the clouds rested lovingly on its crest, and sometimes almost veiled it, but twice we saw the entire snow-covered space and no adjective can describe the matchless glory of that view. Poets have sung of it, and legend has woven fantastic tales around it, which the natives accept without a doubt.
Mt. Fugii is the scene in Summer of constant visitations—about forty thousand pilgrims appearing there yearly, mostly of the working-class. Before the sixteenth century the mountain was in a constant state of eruption, the last great activity occurring at the beginning of the eighteenth century.
The ride across the lake is pleasant,—the castle an interesting feature,—and by taking it, one discovers a different way to return to Miyanoshita, but I preferred the route of the morning, as the reverse views are always reinforcingly interesting.
There were pleasant short walks from our hotel and many very easy excursions, so one naturally lingers, as long as possible. The friends I alluded to had been there two weeks. I left with regret.
The third morning we started out in a pouring rain, and so had a closed jinrikisha; if we missed the beauty of the scenery in our descent to Yumoto, we took comfort in the fact that we escaped the "bill-board"!
Arriving at Yokohama, I found a whole bevy of friends at the hotel awaiting the departure of the next steamer for San Francisco. We had all met at different places, once, twice, or thrice, and thus pleasant reminiscences and sociability now prevailed. Three were to leave on the Korea, scheduled to sail on June 29th, which augured well for my homeward passage.
I had intended returning to Tokio, but, remembering each detail of my former visit vividly, I decided instead to try to see Tokio through others' eyes. The Emperor and Empress are spoken of with the utmost respect, the Emperor being progressive in public and political ideas. The Empress is said to have a fine mind and to be accomplished; in matters of social importance she has been instrumental in breaking down many barriers; and while we needs must regret the adoption of Parisian modes of dress by the court, we must remember it was done with the distinct purpose of harmonizing the customs of the Orient with those of the Occident. A diplomat spoke of Tokio as an agreeable place of residence in every way. Native and foreign hospitality in the home are absolutely separate; the Japanese wife does not receive general visits, but her husband may entertain royally at his club, and most elaborate entertainments are spoken of. The social circles of Tokio and Yokohama have common interests, as the cities are but a short distance apart and there is a mutual acquaintance. I met two American ladies who have resided over thirty-five years in Yokohama, and they are most loyal in their views.