Next morning we were astir early, and crossing the low intervening hills, reached the banks of the Fuji kawa at eight o'clock. Extensive preparations had been made at the official hotel for our reception, mats laid down to the entrance and red blankets spread on the floor of the dais. At the urgent entreaty of the innkeeper we turned in for a few minutes, and discovered that Wirgman was an ancient acquaintance of our host, having seen him when he travelled overland from Nagasaki to Yedo in 1861 in the suite of Sir Rutherford Alcock. We were shown into the best room with much ceremony, and when we had taken our seats on the floor, piled-up boxes (jû-bako) were brought in full of chestnut meal cakes, the speciality of the village, with a bit of pickled radish on the top. Other "famous things" sold here are ink stones, bits of crystal with green streaks in them supposed by the common people to be grass, also agates. We crossed in a boat the narrow turbulent Fuji kawa, running between wide beds of shingle. Nowadays you cross in the train. We then had a view of Fuji almost rising out of the sea and drawing its skirts up gradually behind it, curious but not so beautiful as when it is partly concealed by lesser summits which afford a standard of comparison. It looks in fact more like an exaggerated molehill than anything else.
We met on the road two little boys of twelve and fourteen years of age, who, having begged their way as pilgrims all the way from Yedo to the sacred temples of Isé and of Kompira in Sanuki, were now on their way home, carrying slung across their backs huge packages of temple charms done up in oiled paper. The road was terribly sandy and hot, and passing for the most part between the bamboo fences of cottagers' gardens, was the reverse of picturesque.
We had intended to sleep at Hakoné, but owing to delays for sketching, to say nothing of a huge feast of broiled eels and saké at Kashiwabara, did not manage to get beyond Mishima, at the western foot of the hills.
Next morning we started at half-past six to ascend the pass which climbs the range of mountains by an excellent road paved with huge stones after the manner of the Via Appia where it leaves Rome at the Forum, and lined with huge pine trees and cryptomerias. At a tiny hamlet more than halfway up some hunters came to present us with eggs, according to immemorial custom. Three hours brought us to Hakoné, the little mountain village standing on the southern border of the lake, surrounded by steep grassy hills. The warmth of the day tempted me to take a bath in the lake, which at first was strenuously opposed by the foreign official with us. It appeared that no boats were allowed on the lake, nor was any one permitted to swim in it, lest he should take the opportunity of swimming round at the back of the barrier gate, and so avoid the necessity of showing his passport. With considerable trouble I persuaded the objector to withdraw his opposition, by representing that my natatory powers were altogether insufficient for the purpose.
After a couple of hours spent in this charming spot, which nowadays has become a fashionable summer retreat of foreigners residing at Yokohama, we resumed our journey down the eastern side of the pass, already described in a previous chapter, and got to our inn at Odawara by five, little dreaming of what lay before me.
A letter from Sir Harry Parkes was at once delivered to me urging me to hasten my return, as there were important negotiations on foot. On conferring with the leader of the escort, I learnt that by starting at once and travelling post-haste through the night, I might get to Yedo next morning. Eight porters in relays of four would be able to carry the palanquin at the rate of about four miles an hour. So the men were ordered without delay. The Japanese on these occasions, to save themselves from being too severely shaken, wind a broad piece of cotton cloth tightly round the waist, and tie another piece round the temples. A third is suspended from the ceiling of the palanquin, to which the traveller clings with might and main. I had to adopt this arrangement, and in addition stuffed my palanquin full of bedding and pillows. Noguchi and two of the escort accompanied me to negotiate the changes of coolies at the various posting stations on the way, and by seven o'clock we were in motion. The porters maintained a constant crying "eeya-oy," "eeya-oy," in order to keep step with each other and render the swinging of the palanquin less unendurable. To sleep was impossible, as this noise continued all night. When the day broke we had done twenty-six miles, which was slower than I had expected. So we urged on the fresh men we got here, and accomplished the remaining twenty-two miles by ten o'clock. From sitting cross-legged so many hours I was almost unable to stand upright when I got to the Legation. And the vexatious part of it all was that the important conference, which I had hurried to be present at, turned out to be a mere complimentary visit of a crowd of officials for whom anyone could easily have interpreted.
CHAPTER XIX
SOCIAL INTERCOURSE WITH JAPANESE OFFICIALS—VISIT TO NIIGATA, SADO GOLD MINES, AND NANAO