After two days of somewhat monotonous prettiness, beyond Shou-yang-yi the country became really beautiful. Some of the larger valleys were specially attractive, with abundance of fruit and other deciduous trees below the dark Pinus sinensis on the hill slopes, and there were plenty of large villages with a general look of prosperity, everything, clothing included, being much cleaner than usual. There were fine views of lofty dog-tooth peaks, and of serrated ranges running east and west. Nearly every valley has its bright, rapid stream, on which the hills descend on one side in abrupt and much caverned limestone cliffs, the other side being level and fertile. The people there, and doubtless everywhere, were taken up entirely with their own concerns, the new system of taxation under which a fixed tax in money is levied on the assessed value of the land meeting with their approval. Events in Seoul had no interest for them. The recent murder of the Queen and the imprisonment of the King did not concern them, as there were no effects of either on their circumstances. After crossing the pass of Miriok Yang, 816 feet in altitude, in a romantic region, we entered poorer country with stony soil, often piled with large shingle by the violence of streams then perfectly dry.
By misdirection, misunderstanding, or complexity or complete illegibility of the track, we spent much of the day in losing and retracing our way, scrambling up steep rock-ladders, etc., and when we reached Kai-pang after dusk we were for some time refused admission to the inn. The owner said he could not take in any one travelling with so many mapu (four) and a soldier. He was terrified. He said we should go away in the morning without paying him, and should beat him when he asked to be paid! However, the mapu gave me such an excellent character that at last he consented, and I had an excellent room,—that is, the walls and roof were cream-washed, which gave it a look of cleanliness. The timid innkeeper was old, and this brought out the fact that when a local magistrate has aged parents, it is customary for him to invite to an entertainment everybody in his district between the ages of 60 and 100, and it is usual for the old men to take their oldest grandsons with them as testimonies to their old age. As every guest has to be accompanied fittingly, the company often numbers 200.
At Ka-chang and elsewhere the pigsties are much more solid than the houses, being regular log cabins with substantial roofs for the protection of their inmates from tigers, or in that neighborhood from wolves (?). These pigs, of which every country family in Korea possesses some, are of an absurdly small black breed, a full-grown animal not weighing more than 26 lbs.
During the two days’ journey from the market-place of Sian-chöng, we passed the magistracies of Cha-san and Un-san, ferrying the Tai-döng just beyond Cha-san, where it is a fine stream 317 yards broad, and is said by the ferrymen to be 47 feet deep. All that region is well peopled and fertile. There are no resident yang-bans in the province of Phyöng-an. Gold is obtained by a simple process all round the country, specially at Keum-san. At Wol-po, a prettily situated village, and elsewhere, a quantity of the coarser descriptions of paper is made. Paper and tobacco were the goods that were on the move, bound for Phyöng-yang.
Paper is used for a greater variety of purposes in Korea than anywhere else, and its toughness and durability render it invaluable. The coarser sorts are made from old rags and paper, the finer from the paper mulberry. Paper is the one article of Korean manufacture which is exported in any quantity to China, where it is used for some of the same purposes.
Oil paper about a sixth of an inch in thickness is pasted on the floors instead of carpets or mats. It bears washing, and takes a high polish from dry rubbing. In the Royal Palaces, where two tints are used carefully, it resembles oak parquet. It is also used for walls. A thinner quality is made into the folding, conical hat-covers which every Korean carries in his sleeve, and into waterproof cloaks, coats, and baggage covers. A very thick kind of paper made of several thicknesses beaten together is used for trunks, which are strong enough to hold heavy articles. Lanterns, tobacco-pouches, and fans are made of paper, and the Korean wooden latticed windows from the palace to the hovel are “glazed” with a thin, white, tough variety, which is translucent. Much prized, however, were my photographic glass plates when cleaned. Many a joyful householder let one into his window, giving himself an opportunity of amusement and espionage denied to his neighbors.
The day’s journey from Ka-chang to Tok Chhön is through very attractive scenery with grand mountain views. After crossing a low but severe pass, we came down upon a large affluent of the Tai-döng, which for want of a name I designate as the Ko-mop-so, flowing as a full-watered, green stream between lofty cliffs of much caverned limestone, fantastically buttressed, and between hills which throw out rocky spurs, terminating or thinning down into high limestone walls, resembling those of ruinous fortifications.
Again losing the way and our time, a struggle over a rough pass brought us in view of the Tai-döng, with the characteristics of its mountain course, long rapids with glints of foam and rocks, long reaches of deep, still, slow-gliding jagged translucent green water broad and deep, making constant abrupt turns, and by its volume suggesting great powers of destructiveness when it is liberated from its mountain barriers. In about a fortnight it would be frozen for the winter. Diamond-flashing in the fine breeze, below noble cliffs and cobalt mountains, across which cloud shadows were sailing in indigo, under a vault of cloud-flecked blue, that view was one of those dreams of beauty which become a possession for ever.
From that pass the road, if it can be called such, is shut in with the Tai-döng for 30 li. In some places there is not room even for the narrowest bridle track, and the ponies scramble as they may over the rough boulders which margin the water, and climb the worn, steep, and rocky steps, often as high as their own knees, by which the break-neck track is taken over the rocky spurs which descend on the river. It is one of the worst pieces of road I ever encountered, and it was not wonderful that we did not meet a single traveller, and that there should be only about nine a year! We made by our utmost efforts only a short mile an hour, and it took us five hours of this severe work to reach the wretched hamlet of Huok Kuri, a few hovels dumped down among heaps of stones and great boulders, some of which served as backs for the huts. Poverty-stricken, filthy, squalid, the few inhabitants subsisted entirely on red millet! Poor Mr. Yi, who had had a wakeful night owing to vermin, said woefully as he dismounted stiffly, “Sleepy, tired, cold, hungry,”—and there was nothing to eat, and little for the ponies either, which may have been the reason that they got up a desperate fight, of which they bore the traces for some days.
