As I watched the water pouring from one rice field to another and wondered how the rights of landowners were ever reconciled, someone reminded me of the phrase, "water splashing quarrels," that is disputes in which each side blames the other without getting any farther forward. To take an unfair advantage in controversy is to draw water into one's own paddy. The equivalent for "pouring water on a duck's back" is "flinging water in a frog's face." A Western European is always astonished in Japan by the lung power of Far Eastern frogs. The noise is not unlike the bleating of lambs.
Every now and again one comes on a fragrant bed of lotus in its paddy field. It seems odd at first that lotus—and burdock—should be cultivated for food. As a pickle burdock is eatable, but lotus and some unfamiliar tuberous plants are pleasant food resembling in flavour boiled chestnuts. Konnyaku (hydrosme rivieri), a near relative of the arum lily, is produced to the weight of 11 million kwan—a kwan is roughly 8¼ lbs.[[40]] The yield of burdock is about 44 million kwan. The chief of all vegetables is the giant radish, of which 7¼ million kwan are grown. Taro yields about 150 million kwan. Foreigners usually like the young sprouts taken from the roots of the bamboo, a favourite Japanese vegetable.
This is as convenient a place as any to speak of an important agricultural fact, the enormous amount of filth worked into the paddies. As is well known, hardly any of the night soil of Japan is wasted. Japanese agriculture depends upon it. Formerly the night soil was removed from the houses after being emptied into a pair of tubs which the peasant carried from a yoke. Such yoke-carried tubs are still seen, but are chiefly employed in carrying the substance to the paddies. The tubs which are taken to dwellings are now mostly borne on light two-wheeled handcarts which carry sometimes four and sometimes six. A farmer will push or pull his manure cart from a town ten or twelve miles off. It is difficult to leave or enter a town without meeting strings of manure carts. The men who haul the carts get together for company on their tedious journey. They seem insensible to the concentrated odour. Often the wife or son or daughter may be seen pushing behind a cart. There is a certain amount of transportation by horse-drawn frame carts, carrying a dozen or sixteen tubs, and by boats. I was told of a city of half a million inhabitants which had thirty per cent. of its night soil taken ten miles away. The work was undertaken by a co-operative society which paid the municipality the large sum of 70,000 yen a year. The removal of night soil, its storage in the fields in sunken butts and concrete cisterns—carefully protected by thatched, wooden or concrete roofs—and its constant application to paddy fields or upland plots cause an odour to prevail which the visitor to Japan never forgets. [[41]]
It must not be supposed that, because the Japanese are careful to utilise human waste products, no other manure is employed. There is an enormous consumption of chemical fertilisers. Then there are brought into service all sorts of crop-feeding materials, such as straw, grass, compost, silkworm waste, fish waste, and of course the manure produced by such stock as is kept. [[42]] In Aichi the value of human waste products used on the land is only a quarter of the value of the bean cake and fish waste similarly employed.
At Mr. Yamasaki's excellent agricultural school (prefectural), which I visited more than once, [[43]] I was struck by the grave bearing of the students. I saw them not only in their classrooms but in their large hall, where I was invited to speak from a platform between the busts of two rural worthies, Ninomiya, of whom we have heard before, and another who was "distinguished by the righteousness of his public career." As in the Danish rural high schools, store is set on hard physical exercise. An hour of exercise—judō (jujitsu), sword play or military drill—is taken from six to seven in the morning and another at midday with the object of "strengthening the spirit" and "developing the character," for "our farmers must not only be honest and determined but courageous." Severe physical labour, shared by the teacher, is also given out of doors, for example, in heaping manure. "We believe," said one of the instructors, "in moral virtue taught by the hands."
For an hour a day "the main points of moral virtue" are put before the different grades of students, according to their ages and development. The school has a guild to which the twenty teachers and all the students belong. It is a kind of co-operative society for the "purchase and distribution of daily necessities," but one of its objects is "the maintenance of public morality." Then there is the students' association which has literary and gymnastic sides, the one side "to refine wisdom and virtue," the other "for the rousing of spirit." Mention may also be made of a "discipline calendar" of fixed memorial days and ceremonies "that all the students should observe": the ceremony of reading the Imperial Rescript on education, thrift and morality, and the ceremonies at the end of rice planting, at harvest and at the maturity of the silk-worm. The fitting-up of the school is Spartan but the rooms are high and well lighted and ventilated. The students' hot bath accommodates a dozen lads at a time. The studies are also the dormitories, and in the corner of each there is stored a big mosquito netting. Except for a few square yards near the doors, these rooms consist of the usual raised platform covered with the national tatami or matting.
I heard a characteristic story of the Director. During the Russo-Japanese war everybody was economising, and many people who had been in the habit of riding in kuruma began to walk. Our agricultural celebrity had always had a passion for walking, so it was out of his power to economise in kuruma. What he did was to cease walking and take to kuruma riding, for, he said, "in war time one must work one's utmost, and if I move about quickly I can get more done."
I may add a story which this rare man himself told me. I had seen in his house a photograph of a memorial slab celebrating the heroic death of a peasant. It appeared that in a period of scarcity there was left in this peasant's village only one unbroken bale of rice. This rice was in the possession of the peasant, who was suffering from lack of food. But he would not cook any of the rice because he knew that if he did the village would be without seed in spring. Eventually the brave man was found dead of hunger in his cottage. His pillow had been the unopened bale of rice.
In the house of a small peasant proprietor I visited the inscriptions on the two gaku signified "Buddha's teaching broken by a beautiful face" and "Cast your eyes on high." On the wall there was also a copy of a resolution concerning a recent Imperial Rescript which 500 rural householders, at a meeting in the county, had "sworn to observe," and, as I understood, to read two or three times a year.
Japan, as I have already noted, has always been a more democratic country than is generally understood; but the people have been accustomed to act under leaders. Some time ago an official of the Department of Agriculture visited a certain district in order to speak at the local temple in advocacy of the adjustment of rice fields. (See Chapter VIII.) A dignitary corresponding to the chairman of an English county council was at the temple to receive the official, but at the time appointed for the meeting to begin the audience consisted of one old man. Although the official from Tokyo and the gunchō (head of a county) waited for some time, no one else put in an appearance. So they asked the old man the reason. He replied by asking them the object of the meeting. They told him. He said that he had so understood and that the community had so understood, but the farmers were very busy men. Therefore, as he was the oldest man in the district, they had sent him as their representative. Their instructions were that he would be able to tell from his experience of the district whether what the authorities proposed would be a good thing for it or not. If he considered it to be a bad thing they would not do it, but if he thought it to be a good thing they would do it. He was to hear all that was said and then to give a decision on the community's behalf to the officials who might attend. "So," said the old man to the Tokyo official and the gunchō, "if you convince me you have convinced the village." And after two hours' explanation they convinced him!