“On entering the cabin, she placed both hands on her head, with the palms outwards, and saluted us by bending her body very low. I conducted her to a chair, and Kahei requested her to sit down. Fortunately for this unexpected visitor, there was on board our vessel a young and handsome woman, the wife of our surgeon’s mate. The Japanese lady seemed highly pleased on being introduced to her, and they quickly formed an intimacy. Our countrywoman endeavored to entertain the foreigner with what the women of all countries delight in—she showed her her trinkets. Our visitor behaved with all the ease of a woman of fashion; she examined the ornaments with great curiosity, and expressed her admiration by an agreeable smile. But the fair complexion of our countrywoman seemed most of all to attract her attention. She passed her hands over the Russian woman’s face, as though she suspected it had been painted, and, with a smile, exclaimed, ‘Yoi! yoi!’ which signifies good. I observed that our visitor was somewhat vain of her new ornaments, and I held a looking-glass before her that she might see how they became her. The Russian lady placed herself immediately behind her, in order to show her the difference of their complexions, when she immediately pushed the glass aside, and said, ‘-Warui! warui!’—not good. She might herself have been called handsome; her face was of the oval form, her features regular, and her little mouth, when open, disclosed a set of shining black lackered teeth. Her black eyebrows, which had the appearance of having been pencilled, overarched a pair of sparkling dark eyes, which were by no means deeply seated. Her hair was black, and rolled up in the form of a turban, without any ornament, except a few small tortoise-shell combs. She was about the middle size, and elegantly formed. Her dress consisted of six wadded silk garments, similar to our night-gowns, each fastened round the lower part of the waist by a separate band, and drawn close together from the girdle downwards. They were all of different colors, the outer one black. Her articulation was slow, and her voice soft. Her countenance was expressive and interesting, and she was, altogether, calculated to make a very agreeable impression. She could not be older than eighteen. We entertained her with fine green tea and sweetmeats, of which she ate and drank moderately. On her taking leave, I made her some presents, with which she appeared to be much pleased. I hinted to our countrywoman that she should embrace her, and when the Japanese observed what was intended, she ran into her arms, and kissed her with a smile.”
The Japanese merchant, at Rikord’s request, wrote a letter to the commander at Kunashiri, detailing the state of affairs. No answer was returned, and when an attempt was made to land for water, the boats were fired upon, as was the “Diana” herself, whenever she approached the shore; but the aim was so bad as to excite the derision of the Russians.
During the winter passed in Kamtschatka, the Japanese merchant continued to gain in the good opinion of his captors, whose language he so far mastered as to be able to converse in it even on abstract subjects. He seemed to interest himself much in arranging the misunderstanding between the Russian and Japanese governments, and expressed his wish, which he said was shared by others of his class, to see a commercial intercourse opened between the two nations; and it was at his suggestion that Rikord sent to the governor of Irkutsk for a disavowal of the hostile acts of Chwostoff.
Kahei remained in good health and spirits till the middle of winter, when the death of two of his Japanese attendants greatly affected him. He became melancholy and peevish, asserted that he had the scurvy, and told the surgeon he should certainly die; but his real disorder was home-sickness, aggravated by apprehensions of being detained at Okhotsk, whither Rikord had intended to sail before proceeding to Japan, in order to get the disavowal above referred to. As Kahei’s assistance seemed essential, Rikord, fearing lest he might die, resolved to sail direct for Japan as soon as the vessel could be cut from the ice,—a resolution by which Kahei’s spirits were greatly raised.
They arrived in Kunashiri bay in June, 1813. The buildings were, as formerly, concealed by striped cotton cloth, but no guns were fired, and not a living being was to be seen. When the two Japanese sailors were about to be sent on shore, Rikord, somewhat excited at their master’s declining to pledge himself for their return, bade them say to the governor, that if he prevented them from returning, or sent back no information, their master should be carried to Okhotsk, whence some ships of war should immediately come to demand the liberation of the Russians.
“At these words,” says Rikord, “Kahei changed countenance, but said, with much calmness, ‘Commander of the imperial ship’—he always addressed me thus on important occasions—‘thou counsellest rashly. Thy orders to the governor of Kunashiri seem to contain much, but according to our laws they contain little. In vain dost thou threaten to carry me to Okhotsk; my men may be detained on shore, but neither two, nor yet two thousand sailors can answer for me. Therefore I give thee previous notice that it will not be in thy power to take me to Okhotsk. But tell me whether it be under these conditions only that my sailors are to be sent on shore?’ ‘Yes,’ said I; ‘as commander of a ship of war, I cannot under these circumstances act otherwise.’
The Doctor’s Call
Hair-Dressing