For a short ride in a Japanese city one man to pull your carriage is sufficient, but for a journey into the country, or of several miles, you need two men, or perhaps three. Where you have but one man you should not expect to go as rapidly as with two or three, and you must dismount in sandy places, or when a hill is to be ascended. The speed and endurance of these men is something wonderful. It is nothing unusual for three of them to pull a jinrikisha fifty miles in twelve hours, with only three halts of a quarter of an hour each, and they have been known to make sixty-five miles between sunrise and sunset of a long day. The writer, with three men to his carriage, traveled from Osaka to Nara, a distance of thirty miles, between 10 A.M. and 5 P.M., with a halt of an hour for dinner. The next day he continued his journey to Kioto, thirty miles more, in a pouring rain, with the same men in the same time. The coolies were as fresh on the second day as on the first, and as cheerful as one could wish, although their passenger was not a light weight, and was suffering from a lameness that prevented his walking up any of the hills.
Riding with a jinrikisha is cheap enough for the most contracted purse. The tariff in the large cities of Japan is ten cents an hour, or fifty cents for a day of twelve hours, and if the traveler wishes to keep his carriage waiting for him, and subject to his call, he can readily make a bargain for not over three dollars a week. Most of the foreigners in Japan keep their own carriages by buying a jinrikisha, and hiring a couple of men for six or seven dollars each per month. They perform the work of general servants about the house and grounds, and whenever the master wishes to ride out he orders the jinrikisha and its accompanying coolies. A carriage of ordinary workmanship costs about twenty-five dollars, and a "swell" one can be had for fifty or something less. Its name is compounded of three Japanese words—jin, man, riki, power, and sha, carriage—jin-riki-sha, man-power-carriage.
The stranger in Japan, China, or India, finds it disagreeable to ride on men's shoulders, or to be drawn by them in a vehicle. Especially is this the case in Japan, where you have the struggling and perspiring man directly before you, and witness the effort he is making to propel you over the ground. Everybody experiences this feeling, and his first ride in a man-power carriage is rarely agreeable. But when you remember that the coolie considers it a favor to be employed, and that nothing would displease him more than to have the offer of his services refused, you will change your mind, and take your ease in a jinrikisha. Regard him as you would the man whom you employ to saw wood or dig potatoes; he is thankful for the opportunity of working, and so is the Japanese coolie who exerts his strength to pull you about. And when you have done with him give a few cents extra, and he will thank you with an expression so heartfelt that you cannot fail to be touched by it.
Many of the Japanese still prefer the cango to the jinrikisha, but it is rapidly going out of use in all the localities where the miniature chaise can run. The cango is a sort of open-sided basket slung on a pole, and carried by two men in the same way that a sedan-chair is carried. The occupant must double his legs beneath him, and sit perfectly still; this is easy enough for a Japanese, but is torture to a European. No man from Europe or America will ever find the cango enjoyable until a system is invented whereby he can unscrew his legs before starting, and screw them on again when his journey is completed.
CHAPTER XX.
PEDESTRIAN TRAVELING.—MOUNTAIN CLIMBING.
The earliest form of traveling was on foot; it was in universal use before the horse and other beasts of burden were subdued to the will of man, and before the railway and steamship were invented. In spite of the lapse of ages, and the many improvements in locomotive means, it continues to be practiced by a great many persons, and will doubtless so continue as long as men have feet to walk with. The large majority of pedestrians are such from necessity, but the class that prefers to walk when it can afford to ride is by no means small.
The railway has been the great destroyer of pedestrian travel, and, at the present time, very few people, except those absolutely without money, take to the high-road where there is an iron way to carry them to their destination. Unless there is some reason for the foot journey beyond the desire to reach a certain place, the railway affords the greatest economy of money and time, as the merest glance at the figures will show. Suppose a man wishes to go from New York to Philadelphia, a distance of ninety miles; at thirty miles a day he will be three days on the road if he uses his feet, and three hours if he takes the railway. The fare by railway will be two dollars, and his loss of time half a day; reckoning his meals and lodging along the high-road at one dollar a day his expenses in footing it would be three dollars, without counting the loss of time, which most Americans consider equivalent to money. Far greater is the contrast in a long journey across the Continent, or over a considerable portion of it, so that the most miserly of men is not likely to put his own feet in competition with the wheels of the locomotive.
Pedestrian journeys in America are mainly confined to young men in search of health, who throng the routes of New England and northern New York in the summer months. In Europe the principal resorts of the pedestrian are the mountain regions of Switzerland, Italy, and Germany, and there is a fair amount of the same kind of travel in Norway, Sweden, and the lake and mountain districts of Scotland. Workmen going from one town to another in search of employment are often encountered, and in some countries of the Continent such journeys are obligatory upon apprentices before they can be allowed to practice the trades they have learned.
Fifty years or more ago there was a half-pedestrian system in vogue in the United States, especially on the great roads leading to the west. It was known by the name of "ride and tie," and many an emigrant of those days found his way west by this process. It was about as follows:
Two men, whom we will call Smith and Jones, unite their funds and buy a horse and saddle. Their baggage is stowed in the saddle-bags, so that neither of them has anything to carry beyond his strong walking-stick. On the morning fixed for their departure Smith mounts the horse and starts at an easy pace along the road, while Jones follows on foot. It has been arranged that the first "tie" shall be at a village twenty miles away.