While costly temples prove a magnet to both native and foreigner, nature has been very liberal in dealing with Nikko. The stately cryptomeria, or cedar, trees growing at the approach of and in the temple grounds are admirable. An attractive avenue of these trees embowers a highway passing through Nikko for 20 miles, some of which rise to heights of over a hundred feet, and are from two to nine feet in diameter. Three hundred years ago these trees were laid out and planted so close that, save for openings above the lower trunk, where the trees begin to narrow, the space on each side of the roadway is solidly walled by cedar bases. We have seen nothing to compare, in uniformity and distance, with the two rows of cryptomeria at and below Nikko. Pine and other trees grow all about, and rivers, cascades, and inviting glens all go to make the surroundings very attractive.
Soap must be furnished by guests in some hotels, and matches as well. While in India travelers generally furnish their own bedding and shoe polish, in our Nikko hotel all these accessories were furnished, together with a bath kimono and mat sandals.
"Ahayo" is the word one will be greeted with when passing a group of rosy-cheeked, slant-eyed, clothes-quilted, clog-shod Japanese children. If the salute be returned a bow will be made by the happy cherubs, when they will clatter on their noisy way. "Ahayo" is "good day" in the English language.
All accounts must be settled before New Year's Day, when a national settlement takes place, or the debtor will be dishonored. If a creditor feels disposed to extend debts, the debtor is saved from disgrace. The most precious thing in a home must be sold to meet obligations at the close of the year. This custom necessitates a great fair being held just before New Year's Day, which occupies miles of space in the larger cities. Both high and low visit these annual fairs, and purchases are liberal, as every one knows the reason for which the articles are put on sale. These fair districts are illuminated with electric lights and native lanterns, and many indigent Japanese become shopkeepers for the time being.
In some districts of Japan a funeral, when the deceased is an aged or respected person, assumes the form of a festival. Friends bring money, cakes, saké (native drink), plums, sugar, edibles of all kinds, and flowers. All bow before the home altar and assume a praying attitude with the hands. Then the offerings are placed before the shrine. When all the sympathizers have gathered, bowed, and deposited their offerings, a feast is prepared, which often continues for two days. The Japanese have no fear of the hereafter, and this custom is maintained to honor the respectable dead.
Nikko homes are similar to those seen in other sections of Japan—small, one-story frame buildings, with paper-square doors.
CHAPTER VII
Returning to Tokyo, from that city we left for Yokohama, where the fourth ship we had traveled on since leaving Manila was making ready to start for Honolulu, 3,400 miles separating the Japanese seaport from the Hawaiian capital.
Sailing from Japan on a Japanese ship, second-class was the best accommodation we could afford, which did not mean anything in the nature of luxurious living. The butter—well, it was not the kind one gets on a farm, and seemed to be made of at least three constituents—olive oil, peanut flour, and colored lard. Twenty foreigners were on the ship, the other passengers being Chinese, Japanese, and Filipinos. A request was made of the captain, who was a Britisher, to oil up the table, as it were, when luxuries like catsup and pickles improved things somewhat; but the Oriental butter remained true to its original taste and color.