We did not tarry long at Lower Piratori, but continued our journey to Upper Piratori, which is close by. In fact, formerly, there was a continuous village but a migration of the middle part of the town has left the extremes separated and now they bear distinct names. The little Japanese inn is in the centre of Upper Piratori and we were soon comfortably installed. Piratori is, of all Ainu towns, the best known to the outside world and many travelers—Miss Bird, Landor, Fincke,—have described it and pictured its chief, old Penri. The old man died in December last. When Mr. Batchelor first came to Piratori, years ago, he lived in Penri’s house, having the southeast corner partitioned off for his use. Here he began to study the language and to collect the materials for his dictionary. The old house still stands, though now occupied by a Japanese family, and we photographed it, with Mr. Batchelor near the south doorway, in memory of old times. At the time of his death, Penri lived in another house, which we visited. The widow, on seeing us began to weep, in token of her bereavement; this she would be expected to do, on first seeing a friend after her husband’s death, even if a much longer time had passed after the event. Somewhat to our surprise she let us take away an inao placed at the west door in connection with the funeral and mourning.
NUSA: NEPTANI.
At a neighboring house we were greatly impressed by the dignified appearance of two men seated at the fireplace, father and son. The older, a brother of Penri, had long gray hair and beard; the younger, was of somewhat stouter build and had abundant long black hair and a full black beard. As we entered, and the old man saw who we were, he rose without a word, found his crown and placed it on his head; both then proceeded to salute us. We had already seen something of these strange and dignified greetings, but this was our first experience of the thing at home. They sat for some time slowly rubbing their hands together, back and forth, the palms being vertical; after doing this, they separated the hands outward to the sides, palms upward, and then raised and lowered them two or three times, as if balancing or weighing something, each time raising them higher and nearer to the beard; finally they brought the hands to the beard and stroked it from the sides. There are then, really three parts to this salutation, after the performance of which the conversation began.
PENRI’S OLD HOUSE: UPPER PIRATORI.
These crowns worn ceremoniously by the men are really interesting; they consist of a foundation band of cloth or woven work that fits around the head. To this, in front, there is a bear’s head carved in wood; this is replaced sometimes, as at Shiraoi, by bear claws; sometimes the carved head of an eagle or a hawk replaces the bear’s head. From the band of the crown hang several—often six—little square flaps of cloth. These are the “hair” of the crown which also has a “body” and “bones.” A. Henry Savage-Landor, often unreliable, calls these strange head-dresses “regal crowns.” Of course there is nothing “regal” about them. They are worn at joyful festivals or on other pleasant occasions,—such as our visit!—and may be worn only by well-to-do and good men.
Among Ainu the woman is regarded as an inferior and generally she acquiesces pleasantly enough in the assumption. At festivals, the men sit in a line in front, near the drinking cups; the women sit behind and receive what their lords please to give them after they have had what they want. The woman usually wears a band of cloth around her head. On meeting a man, in greeting him, she respectfully removes this and hangs it upon her left arm; she then draws her right hand over her upper lip, from the left to the right; she may then pat the hair at the sides of her head, with her hands. The movement of drawing her hand across her lip is common when she has received a favor and seems to be an expression of thanks and pleasure.
AINU GROUP: FEAST OCCASION.