Kit i iSusytfiHftBHnlJiFS n UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA AT LOS ANGELES A WANDERER'S TRAIL ill, ,\^ 1 A WANDERER'S TRAIL BEING A FAITHFUL RECORD OF TRAVEL IN MANY LANDS BY A. LOTON RIDGER, F.R.G.S. ILLUHTKATEI) WITH HIXTY BEPKODUCTIOXH FROM J'HOTOGRAPHB NEW YORK HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 1914 - r. HIVF,K>IDF. »RF.S- ^I^^TEB ISBURGH, SCOTLAND IN TOKEN OF GRATITUDE TO S. C. HESTER AND J. M. RYRIE ,U704:./ / have lo thank Mr John Buchan /or much kind ejicourage- menl, and particularlif Mr S. L. Bensusax jor his sound direction and assistance in going through these pages. A. L. R. Vanbruch Park, bl.acjcheath, loxdon. CONTENTS PARTI INTRODUCTION .... CHAPTER I. MY FIRST VOYAGE BOUND FOR 'FRISCO . II. FIRST EXPERIENCES IN CALIFORNIA III. EXPERIENCES IN OREGON AND WASHINGTON IV. TRA\^L IN THE WESTERN STATES . V. SOME EXPERIENCES IN CANADA VI. IN ALASKA .... VII. DOWN THE YUKON TO KLONDYKE VIII. HARD TIMES ON THE PACIFIC COAST IX. A STORMY VOYAGE ACROSS THE PACIFIC . X. IMPRESSIONS OF JAPAN AND THE JAPANT^SE XI. AN IMPRESSION OF JAPANESE SPORTS XII. SOME EXPERIENCES IN KOREA XIII, IMPRESSIONS OF THE JAPANESE REGIME IN KOREA XIV. FROM KOREA THROUGH MANCHURIA XV. IMPRESSIONS OF DAIREN AND PORT ARTHUR XVI. DOWN THE CHINESE COAST XVII. FROM THE STRAITS TO EAST AMERICA VIA SUEZ XVIII. EAST AMERICA AND RETURN TO ENGLAND . 17 19 29 39 51 72 82 91 104 114 132 146 152 159 168 179 183 190 199 CONTENTS PART II CHAPTER PAGE I. BOUND FOR THE TRANSVAAL . . .205 II. LIFE IN JOHANNESBURG .... 209 III. MINES AND MINING ON THE RAND . . 220 IV. LIFE UNDERGROUND .... 227 V. PREPARATIONS FOR OUR TREK TO OVAMBOLAND . 237 VI. TREKKING THE KALAHARI DESERT . . 250 VII. ALONG THE BANKS OF THE BOTLETLE . . 264 VIII TREKKING THROUGH NGAMILAND TO THE LAKE . 280 IX. ALONG THE OKAVANGO AND RETURN TO THE LAKE . 292 X. TROUBLES ON MY RETURN TREK . . .307 XI. ON HORSEBACK THROUGH THE DESERT . . 320 XII. IS THE EAST CALLING OR THE WEST DRIVING ? . 330 XIII. UP THE EAST AFRICAN COAST TO ZANZIBAR . 340 XIV. FROM ZANZIBAR TO BOMBAY . . . 349 XV. DOWN THE MALABAR COAST XVI. FROM CEYLON TO BURMA . XVII. SCENES IN BURMA XVIII. FROM MOULMEIN TO CALCUTTA XIX. IN THE FAR EAST AGAIN . 354 365 373 384 390 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Portrait of the Author . {Photograph by H. IV. Busbridge, Blackheath) San Francisco : Entrance to the Golden Gate San Francisco's Suburbs Lumbering In the Lumber Yards . Portland, Oregon Mount Rainier . Mount Hood Alaska: a Country of Impressive Wildness and Grandeur Alaska: a ''Shack" in the Mountains Four Coaches drawn by three Engines On the Yukon .... Skagway, Alaska Victoria, B.C. .... Vancouver, B.C. The Palms of Honolulu A Group of Students in the Mitsui Bank, I'okio Japan en fete The Inland Sea . An Everyday Scene in Japan . Japanese Women City Gate of Seoul, Korea Life in Seoul, Korea II Frontispiece if ace page 32 32 50 50 58 68 (is Solemn 80 88 92 92 100 108 108 124 138 144 144 148 148 l64 164 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS To fact paje Manchuria : the little red-earth Track, the Railway winding its Tortuous Course ... Manchuria : a " Road " in Kwangchangtsu Mukden : the Tombs of the Manchu Emperors Harbin ...... Port Arthur : a Japanese Memorial A Fort at Port Arthur after Bombardment The Horrors of War .... Hong-Kong: the Aftermath of a Typhoon A Malay V^illage .... Singapore ..... Johannesburg en fete at the Time of the Duke of Connaught Visit ..... A large Mine Property The Battery, showing the Mercury-coated Plates The Surroundings of a Rand Mine \'ie\v of Cyanide Works A shaky •' Hanging " . Trucking the Ore to the Shaft Underground Surveying Machine-stoping .... Palapye, our Starting Point Watering Cattle in the Kalahari Desert i'rekking tlie Kalahari .... The Eternal Sand .... A Native "Dug-out" .... Crossing the Botletle River A Group of Refugee D.unaras in Ngamiland . Makuba Women .... 12 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS Starting out on Trek from I'sau Big Game in Ngamiland Lake Ngami : forcing a Way through the Swamps Lake Ngami : the Blacksmith's Quarters Refugees from German S.W. Africa Damara Belles . About to cross . Nearly through . Home, Sweet Home Zanzibar's Narrow Streets Old Portuguese Fort in Zanzib Bombay . An Indian Bungalow On India's Shores Coir Fibre from the Cocoanut The Malabar Coast: luxuriant Tropical Foliag In Eastern Waters Peaceful Burma . Hong-Kong : the Peak . A Street in Hong-Kong Tapping Rubber-Trees Tropical Vegetation of Malaya Z'o face prir/P. 290 2<)6 304 306 306 308 308 324 346 346 352 352 356 358 362 364 376 392 392 596 396 13 PART I " Much have I seen and known ; cities of men And manners, climates, . . . Yet all experience is an arch wherethro' Gleams that untravell'd world, whose margin fades For ever and for ever when I move." Tennyson. INTRODUCTION Before bringing my reader to the date of my first departure from England a few words of personal record may not be out of place. I began my business career at the age of seventeen in a London insurance company. After some months in this office I had the opportunity to join the well-known Japanese house of Mitsui, in whose service I remained nearly three years. I left that firm to join the house of Arbuthnot Ewart & Co., with which I was connected till my departure from London. Besides gaining a fair practical insight into general commerce in the service of these two important houses, I gained, further, that which was of even greater value — the friendship and interest of some influential business men, whose help and practical kindness to me during my years of travel made possible a task that had been otherwise hopeless. From my schooldays the desire to wander into the Great Unknown was always very strong in me. I made many efforts to obtain some foreign appointment, but, chiefly owing to my youth and a slight delicacy of constitution, the efforts were unsuccessful. One day, however, whilst in conversa- tion with a merchant I received rather a rude shock. I was enlarging on my eagerness to " go abroad " (that vague phrase so often in the mouths of young Englishmen at home) when I was disconcei'ted by the blunt retort: ''Then why the devil don't you go ? " With a rather injured air I began to explain my many fruitless efforts to this end. I was cut short, however, by my listcnci- saying : " My boy, if you want to go abroad and sec the world — go I — ship in the iii'st tramp you can hnd, bound any^vhere. That is the only way to see the world ! " These words made a deep impression on me ; so much so that within r, 17 INTRODUCTION a month my kit was packed, my farewells said, and I found myself travelling down to Barry docks to join a tramp steamer bound round the Horn for San Francisco. Through the kindness of a shipbroker I had been able to arrange a passage on board, paying only the small sum of three shillings per day for mess-money. I had ten pounds in my pocket and a few letters of intro- duction, most of them not worth the paper on which they were written, I had then, hovv'ever, that which was of far greater value. I possessed untiring Energy, unlimited Hope and the unbounded Enthusiasm of youth. So I was rich in capital, richer than I knew : for nothing is of real value till it is lost ! 1 8 CHAPTER I MY FIRST VOYAGE BOUND FOR 'FRISCO THE date was the 13th of February 1907. On a bleak, i-aw night t>-pical of February I reached Barry docks, which looked as desolate and dirty as they possibly could. Rain was steadily falling, and it might have been doing so for weeks on end, so sloppy and muddy were the roads and wharves. On leaving the station I inquired as to the whereabouts of the steamer Strathyre, the ship that was to be my home for many weeks to come. I found her at last moored to one of the wharves under the coal-tips, in process of being coaled for her long voyage. Boarding her by means of the rope-ladder hanging over her side I clambered on deck. Everything there was coated with coal dust — men included ! Welsh coal may certainly be the best burning coal in the world, but it is also the dirtiest ; its dust seems to have a knack of finding every nook and corner of a vessel, and of lodging there. The Strathyre was a new steamer — the usual type of a modern caj-go boat with as nuieh iron about her and as little wood as possible. Her registered tonnage was nearly three thousand and her carrying capacity some six thousand. However, that night I obtained but a glimpse of her in her coat of coal dust. Inquiring for the captain, 1 was told to go down to the saloon, where I found him sitting busily writing. In response to my question as to whether he were the captain he replied : '* Yes, I'm the master." The term then struck me as rather strange. Having informed him who I was, I asked, seeing him so busy, if I could not give him a helping hand. He gratefully accepted my offer and told me he was nearly dying 19 A WANDERER'S TRAIL for want of sleep, having been up on the bridge for the best part of three nights, while bringing the ship over from the Continent, as fog was with them all the way. As the writing to be done was all connected with shipping matters with which I was fairly familiar, I was able to relieve him of a great deal of work ; in fact, by one o'clock he was fast asleep in his chair, whilst I was finishing the last letter. He was very grateful for my timely help, as he termed it, and I was only too glad to make myself useful. The captain and I became very friendly during the voyage and I often look back with pleasure to the many enjoyable days I spent in his company. He was about as unlike the ship's captain my fertile imagina- tion pictured as he could possibly be. My idea of a sea captain, fomided on the stirring yarns of youth, was a bull-necked, ferocious-looking man, who could not speak without oaths ; whilst Captain G — ■ — of the Sirathyre was a quiet, i-efincd Scotsman, who would not have appeared out of place in a pulpit. I found I was splendidly berthed- — the captain's spare cabin being placed at my disposal. Down to that time I was not sure whether I might have been ordered to sleep in the fo'c'sle or in a ventilator. I was prepared for an}i;hing. The following morning, the ship not being due to sail till the afternoon, I took a stroll round the town of Barry and its out- skirts. In the sunshine the town appeared by no means so dismal as it had seemed to me the night bcfoi'e, whilst the country round after tJie recent rain looked quite pretty. It was, besides, my last day in England, so I was not inclined to be critical. Even the grimy docks and wharves appeared when we were slowly steaming away from them jnore pleasing than they looked on the preceding night. At four o'clock the pilot came on board; shortly after- wards our lines were cast off, and with the aid of a tug v/e steamed slowly through the lock gates into the liristol Channel. It always is a sad sight to sec an old tramp starting out on a long voyage with no last farewells, no waving handkerchiefb, 20 !\IY FIRST VOYAGE- BOUND FOR 'FRISCO no interested eyes to follow her slowly steaming away in the distance. Nobody seems to care ! Her departure is unnoticed ! Only the old dock-hand curses her for going out so slowly. It was blowing fairly hard when we got into the Channel and a choppy head sea was running. Though I felt somewhat squeamish that evening, and on and off during the next day or so, I was fortunate in gaining my sea legs without having to pay the usual tribute to Father Neptune, despite the prophecies of loving relatives. I learnt that night, however, the wisdom of shutting my port-holes firmly, for, on the steamer suddenly shipping a big sea in the Channel, I found myself and my cabin nearly swamped, one of the ports not having been securely shut. By noon of the next day we were well in the Atlantic, with the cliffs of England — at Land's End — fading away in the distance. I was surprised to find that all the crew and firemen were Chinese. This I have found to be the case with nearly every freighter in which I have since sailed. It seems a pity ! The officers, however, were all Britishers, the engineers all being Scotsmen from Glasgow. Our cargo was chiefly building material for San Francisco, Portland cement forming the bulk of it. We had further a good supply of wines (which the carpenter and I on more than one occasion sampled) and other luxuries from the Continent. There were two messes on board --the deck-officers' mess and that of the engineers. My seat was with the former. The food was plain but wholesome, tinned stuffs and salt poik appearing frequently on the menu owing to tlie length of the voyage. My appetite then was, howevei', equal to anything ; and I am quite sure that the owners would not have cared for me as a life-passenger on the three-shillings-a-day basis. The first few days at sea I spent exploring all the nooks and crannies of my floating home — everywhere from the chain locker to the shaft tunnel. To-day I can vividly recall the keen and absorbing interest I took in all the details of the ship, 21 A WANDERER'S TRAIL and in the daily routine of work on board. I spent hours on the bridge, especially if it were blowing hard, feeling the driving wind and rain as refreshing as nectar. The changing of the watches, the ringing of the bells, the taking of the log, the hauling up of the lights— in short, everything that is part and parcel of the regular life on board of a deep-sea tramp — was a source of absorbing interest to me. At the outset of the voyage the captain and I had struck a bargain. He was very anxious to learn French ; so I undertook to teach him that language as well as my knowledge would permit. He, on the other hand, promised to teach me navigation and as much astronomy as he knew. Hence our evenings were always well occupied. Running south and west, skirting the Bay of Biscay, we soon came into warmer latitudes, where the weather became finer and the seas calmer. Seven days after leaving England we sighted Madeira, and on the morning of the 28th of February we anchored off St Vincent Island, the chief island of the Cape Verde group. Shortly after medical inspection the coaling of the shi]) began. All the coal obtained at this island is Welsh coal, imported by colliers and stocked on the island. Iron barges, towed out, brought it to the ship lying in tlie bay, l)eing transfen-ed into the steamei'"s bunkers by means of baskets. Steamers can be coaled here at the ]-ate of some twelve hundred tons per day. I went ashore after breakfast with the captain, but was not very greatly impressed by the appearance of the first foreign soil on which I put my loot. What cliicfly seem to have remained impressed on my mcmoi'y ai-e the gaudily painted buildings of a glaring green, and tlie pompous appearance of the Portuguese sentinels wlio guarded the official buildings. A swarm of beggars greeted our arrival on shore, one and all offering their services as guides. Tlie inhabitants seemed to be a mixed race of Portuguese and negroes. Having visited the ship's agents, where I had the opportunity of sampling some real Madeii-a wine and bananas, we strolled round the to\vn to see all that there was to be seen, which was 22 MY FIRST VOYAGE— BOUND FOR 'FRISCO very little. The island for the most part appeared barren and sandy, thouf^h in places I noticed tropical fruits c^rowing in abundance. Like the others of the group, the island is of volcanic oi-igin and is both mountainous and rocky. The group is owned by the Portuguese, who discovered and occupied it as early as the middle of the fifteenth century. Apart from the im- portance of St Vincent Isle as a convenient coaling port for steamers southward bound, the Cape Verde Islands are but of small value. Coaling was finished late in the afternoon, and shortly after sundown we weighed anchor and steamed away. It was full moon on the night of our departure ; and I can recall how very picturesque the islands looked in the moonlight. As we slowly steamed out we passed a large jagged rock w^hich stood out like some giant sentinel guarding the entrance of the island. Look- ing back, one saw the twinkling lights of the little town, almost paled by the moon's rays, die out one by one, till only the high peaks of the islands remained above the horizon. The weather, as we steamed south-west, continued delightful, hot and sunny. When crossing the line we got into the south-east trade winds, having lost those from the north-east a day or two after leaving the islands. The chief officer had by now enlisted me as one of his painters, or sailors (there is mighty little differ- ence to-day), and I usually spent my mornings in painting stanchions and making myself generally useful. It kept me busy and prevented time from hanging heavily on my hands. The nights, however, in these southern tropics were, if I may say so, the best part of the day. Sunny days, ended by lovely sunsets, were followed by perfect starry nights. Nothing but the rhythmical sound of the thi'obbing engines, as the ship made her way througli the phosphorescent seas, broke the peaceful calm of these tropical nights. Now and then a squall would strike the ship with midsummer fury ; torrential rains would descend f I'om the black canopy above ; vivid flashes of lightning would for a moment turn night into day, but within the hour all would be peaceful again with the passing of Nature's angry mood. 23 A WANDERER'S TRAIL It was generally late before I turned in, for I spent hours walking to and fro the deck, dreaming such dreams, building such castles in the air as only a young man of twenty-one can when he has all the world before him. A favourite nook of mine in the cool of the afternoon was the ship's bows, where I waited for the sun to set. I would follow the graceful flight of the flying-fish, Avatch the gambols of a school of porpoises diving to and fro under the ship, and gaze fascinated into the smooth depths of the fathomless wateivs through which the steamer sped. My first impression of the peaceful calm of those days and nights in tropical seas is indelibly imprinted on my mind, and stands out to-day perhaps more prominently than anything else in that first voyage of mine. Leaving the tropics, still steering south-west, we felt the change in the temperature and the weather became less settled and colder. We then met some rough days with heavy winds and seas from the south. Our progress became slower, our usual run of some two hundred and twenty miles dropping to under two hundred, and big seas every now and then swept the for-ward part of the ship. We passed many whales in these southerly waters, though never near enougli to allow me to obtain a good view of them. On the 23rd of March, thirty-eight days out, we sighted Cape Virgin, a low white cliff ; and shortly afterwards we made Dungeness, where we reported ourselves at Lloyd's station. We anchored at midday in Possession Bay to wait for the turn of the tide. As we lay at anchor in the entrance of the Straits of Magellan we had a full view of the inliospitable shores of Patagonia and of the island of Tierra-del-Fucgo. Special caution is necessary in approaching and navigating the^c htraits, as the cui'rents and tides off the coast are very strong ; the force of tiie current through the Narrows is some- times as much as five to seven knots an hour. Cape Vii'gin is ])ut a very low cliff, and, the distance off shore not being easy to estimate, negotiation of the eastward entrance to the straits ^4 MY FIRST VOYAGE -BOUXD FOR 'FRISCO needs extreme care. Sailing ships, of course, never attempt tlie passage, but sail romid the Horn, On the turn of the tide we weighed anchor and entered the straits with a strong south-west wind against us. For about one hundred miles from Cape Vii-gin the land was low, grassy and treeless. The low-lying ground then gave place to rugged country of rough-outlined hills and towering mountains, which, dark and gloomy, with blue glaciers interlodged, reared their snow- capped peaks over the waters at their foot. Their solemn grandeur was very impressive. The still silence that reigned added to the desolation of the scene. Darwin, in his work on the voyage of the Beagle, describes the scenery of the Straits of Magellan in picturesque words : " It would be difficult to imagine a scene where Man seemed to have fewer claims or less authority. The inanimate works of Nature — rock, ice, snow, wind and water, all warring with each other, yet, combined against Man, reigned in absolute sovereignty ! " The town of Punta Arenas, born since Darwin's time, is, however, the symbol of Man's assertion of his rights ; though the glittering blaze of lights seemed but to intensify the loneliness and wildness of the surrounding country. The passage through the straits, a distance of three hundred and ten miles, took us thirty-seven hours ; we passed several homeward-bound steamei-s, to which we dipped our ensign. Fortunately the weather kept clear, for dirty weather in these straits greatly increases the risk of navigation, as there are but few anchorages which afford any shelter to the ship that is " standing by " till the weather mends. As it was getting dark we passed Cape Pillar, a bold cliff with high mountains to the southward, and entered the Pacific, meeting a high head sea which repeatedly broke over the ship. Steaming north, we soon sighted the coast of Chile ; and on the 29t]i we anchoi'cd in Coronel Bay, off the town of that name. The seaport of Coronel owes what prosperity it possesses to the somewhat inferior coal that is mined in its vicinity, chiefly at Lota. To the sightseer Coronel produced nothing of much 25 A WANDERER'S TRAIL interest. I visited the market and watched the inhabitants at tlieir marketing, whicli chiefly consisted in gossiping, idling and smoking. The Chilians, during our short stay, fully lived up to their national reputation for procrastination : Manmia (to-morrow) is their watchword ! It was Easter-time when we arrived, and the people, being Roman Catholics, were celebrating that season in a most festive way, to the total disregard of business obliga- tions and ordinary work. To the many requests and protests of the steamers lying in the bay and waiting for coal Mariana was the only response. As we were the latest arrival we soon saw it was hopeless to tliink of getting supplies for some time to come ; consequently, as we had enough left in our bunkers to take us up to 'Frisco, we replenished our stock of fresh water and provisions, weighed anchor and steamed away. Other sliips were, however, not so fortunate. One French cargo boat had been lying in the bay for two weeks waiting for coal, but, notwithstanding the promise of double wages to those who would work, the steamer could not obtain so much as a ton. Her ca])tain informed us that the ship was due in one month at Baltimore to take up a fresh charter and had then only just sufficient time to reach that poi't. But the urgency of immediate coaling did iiot in any way worry the pleasure-loving, procras- tinating people, and the prospect of that steamer being ready to leave for another two weeks was very remote. The French captain was a philosophic man, howevei', and les beaux yeux of the Chilian girls seemed fully to compensate him for the delay of his ship, which, though he had done his best to avoid it, was after all not his ti'ouble so mueli as that of his owners. Dou])tless the opening of the Panama Canal will affect considerably the importance of Coroncl as a coaling port ; though, on the other hand, it may lead to the development of some of the industries at presejit in their infancy. Petrcjlcuin was re])oi'te(l to be present in the vicinity, though whether in profitable quantities I could not learn. It was in the streets of Corojiel that I first saw oxen in yokes used as beasts of burden : and I felt so sorry for the poor animals 26 MY FIRST VOYAGE— BOUND FOR 'FRISCO patiently standing in the full blaze of the sun, compelled by their yoke to move in unison. The town was very hot and the glare from the coloured-plaster houses trying to the eyes ; so I was not at all sorry to be once again at sea. Resuming our voyage, we re-entered the tropics and on near- ing the equator we experienced some extremely hot weather. The sea was like a sheet of glass ; not a ripple disturbed its surface. One immediately thought of some poor sailing ship lying ])ecalmed in these waters — the dreaded Doldrums ; of the deadly monotony of life for those on board, who see day after day the same unruffled sheet of water, the same pitiless sun bleaching the sails as they cling lazily to the mast. It was stiflingly hot on board oui- steamer, making as we were a nine-knot breeze. The ])iteh bubbled in the bridge-deck and the iron decks were too hot for the bare foot of any white man. Here and there in the glassy seas I caught sight of the fin of a shark stealthily gliding along. Neai'ly two weeks after leaving Coronel we sighted the Galapagos Isles, noted for their turtles. The following day we recrossed the equator, tliat day being the hottest of our voyage. Day after day we steamed steadily north till the coast of Lower California appeared on the horizon, and off the coast we sighted the first sail since leaving Chile — for over twenty days we might have been the only craft afloat ! The weather daily grew cooler, as we were now in the north-east trades, and our voyage was drawing to an end. At four o'clock in the morning of the 24t]i April we picked up the American pilot off the coast of San Francisco. I was on the bridge at tlie time with the captain when the pilot boarded us, and f I'om him we learnt the latest news. So full of iiitcrest to me at all times was the manoeuvring of a deep-sea steamer that it mattered little at what hour of the night or day we entered or left a port — -I would be up on the bridge the whole time. During the years I travelled perhaps no subject has been of more cojiiinual Jntei'cst to me than that of navigation or anything 27 A WANDERER'S TRAIL to do witli the handling of a ship ; licnce the freshness and strangeness of ever_vi:hing was specially absorbing. We entered the Golden Gate at sunrise, and anchored shortly afterwards in the bay of San Franeiseo, one of the most beautiful harbours in the world. It was the 24th day of .Vpril. Our voyage had taken us sixty-nine days. To all on board save myself it had been uneventful enough, nothing untoward having occurred dui-ing the trip. To me, however, the journey from the first day to the last had been full. I had learnt much of a life of which befoi'c I had been totally ignorant ; I had gained knowledge of the laws that govern the coming and going of the ocean tramp and of the life and daily routine of those on board. The im- pressions of life in general that I obtained on that hi'st voyage are still verv clear in mv mind. 28 CHAPTER II FIRST EXPERIENCES IX CALIFORNIA MY arrival in San Francisco was just twelve months after the great earthquake and fire that demolished and devastated so large a part of that city. A section of the town was still almost in ruins. Though to a certain extent the full effects of the great catastrophe were no longer apparent, the results were still obvious in nearly every street one crossed. Gaping holes, twisted girders, broken masonry and tons of wreckage met the eye on all sides. To make matters worse, the town was also in the tlu'ocs of a laboui' war. Every effort of the capitalists to rebuild the citj' v:as thwarted by the policy of the labour unions, whose demands struck one as being as childish as they were outrageous. Seven sections of labour were then on strike ! The unprecedented wage of five dollars gold a day was being paid for ordinary unskilled labour— for knocking mortar off bricks. The carpenters had struck for seven dollars a day, and when their demands wei-e granted the boilermakers followed suit ; and so it went on. One felt as nmch admiration for the inhabitants of the wrecked city in their determination that a still more splendid town should arise f]'om the ruins as one felt contempt for the un- patriotic actions and demands of the labour unions, whose one aim seemed to be to take advantage of the city's plight. However, the last straw was the car strike. When the earme]i ceased work and demanded increased wages tlie capitalists put their foot down. Strike-breakers were brought into the city by train loads from all parts of America and the strike failed, though not before many attempts had been made to wreck the cars by dynamite. A signal defeat for the unions resulted, and I believe 29 A WANDERER'S TRAIL I am correct in saying that the cars in San Francisco are to-day run by non-union men. r That it is an ill wind that blows nobody any good was very clearly illustrated ])y the increase of business in Oakland across the bay, though a great deal of 'Frisco's business went up to Seattle after the fire, and incidentally much of the vice went with it. Before leaving the Strathyre and securing permission to enter the States I had to undergo an examination by the immigration officials. I was asked : " Have you any work to do? " I had not ; but I was wrestling in my mind as to whether it would be politic to confess that fact. However, I replied in the negative. I was then informed I could enter the country, after having satisfied the officials that I had fifty dollars in my possession and that I was neither an anarchist, a polygamist nor an ex-criminal. I learnt afterwards that, had I said that I had some work to go to, I should not have been permitted to enter, owing to the regulations in force against indentured labour. To tell the truth in America is the best policy — sometimes ! One of the instances when it is the best policy not to tell the truth is over the question of alien or liead tax. This tax — four dollars, I believe, I paid in 'Frisco— is charged on all persons entering the United States. Those exempt, besides American citizens, are Canadians or those who reside in Canada ; but — and here's the point — the person entering from tliat territory, whether he is Canadian born or not, is eoinpelled to show a clear year's residence in that country. The ab'iurdity of tliis stipulation is apparent in the following instaiiee :- A Canadian-born enters the States ; he cntci's free, showing, say, twenty-live years' j-esidence in Canada. He stays, wc will sup})ose, in the United States for a few months and then ix-turns to his home. Xow, after a stay in his own country of pcrha])s a couple of months, he decides to return again to America, lie does so ; but on this occasion, according to the regulations, he has to pay alien tax because he cannot show a clear year's residence in Canada ! The absurdity of this })recious piece of American 30 FIRST EXPERIENCES IN CALIFORNIA legislation is apparent.^ The obvious course to adopt is not to tell the truth ; and then everyone is satisfied ! Having left the ship, and being now free to enter the States, I tasted my hrst cocktail and learnt then the meaning of the price " two bits." As this is the hallmark of your knowledge of the West I impart the valuable information. It is twenty-five cents. I further learnt, this first day in 'Frisco, the phrase " up against it." This expression was in the mouth of every San l-^'ranciscan when he was discussing the one and only topic of conversation with visitors^ — the fire of 190G ; they never talk there of the 'quake ! It was certainly a very expressive phrase, and one that aptly described the condition of the inhabitants of 'Frisco during their troubles, whether from fire, 'quake or labour unions. As fifty dollars represented all my worldly wealth, I had devised some wonderful schemes for economising. I had an opportunity of putting into practice my resolution to economise this first day of mine in America. As it was very hot work tramping through the dusty streets, I went into a saloon and asked for a glass of beer (" steam beer," I think they call it — one generally gets more steam than beer unless the bar-keeper knows his job well) and I put down a nickel (five cents). I was curtly informed: "All drinks fifteen cents each, two for ' two bits.' " I tried lemonade. No good ! I was told that with a " free lunch " counter they could not afford to sell anything at live cents a glass. Not having then the " gall " to walk out I paid my fifteen cents, but despite the fact that I had just had lunch I made terrific inroads into the " free lunch " counter. I am quite sure that the saloon inade nothing out of the deal. I left feeling proud that I had put my new scheme of economy into practice, though I nuist confess to feeling very sluggish for the rest of the after- noon. 3Iy next visit was to a cigar store to buy some Virginia cigarettes. The '' wise guy " (I believe that is the correct term) in the store said that he did not stock them ; in fact, he half ' It may be that this stipulation is no longer in force ; I only speak from my experience in 1907. 31 A WANDERER'S TRAIL insinuated there were no such cigarettes on the market. " We only sell foreigners," he informed me. By that, of course, I inferred he meant Turkish or Egyptian cigarettes — and not strangers ! I apologised for my ignorance, pleading the foolish notion that as Virginia was one of the States of the Union it had occurred to me that the tobacco grown there might be smoked in America. I had in my possession a letter of introduction to an English- man who had left home quite a youngster and was, I had been told at home, in business as a commission merchant in Oakland. As he lived in Alameda, across the bay, I decided to look him up the following day. Early the next moi-ning I caught one of the many ferries that ply to and fro, and reached Alameda. I found the house and presented my letter. With true Calif ornian hospitality I was invited to stay a few days till 1 had made arrangements as to what I was going to do. Much to my surprise my host informed me in course of conversation that his business was not exactly that of a commission merchant ; he was a saloon- keeper. He said that he had thought it a kindness not to make any mention of his real occupation to his folks at home, as he had no wish to shock their conventional ideas. He also asked me when writing home not to mention the true character of his commission merchant's business. Needless to say I promised. I must confess that I was not altogether sorry that my merchant had materialised into a saloon-keeper, as I felt he would more readily understand iny desire to see life. Though I had come out ostensibly to find some conmicreial positioji, I had, I fear, but little intention then of settling down right away. I had my freedom, and was possessed of but one idea — to gain experience. To do that I was ready and willing to do anything, or to go anywhei'c. In the company of my host I visited his salooii. whicli lay in the central part of Oakland. Whilst walking through Alameda towards his saloon I caught sight of trains with ciaiiging bells rushing througli the streets ; at lirst sight they appealed to me very strange. !My companion, as we walked along, pointed out to -\2 ^L0^ J. \\ V l< AM ,\ I KAMI-; 'I'll ■iiih: ( It a.iii:\ ( '. \ii-. S w 1''k \\i isi ()"> Si FIRST EXPERIENCES IN CALIFORNIA me wliat were to him noteworthy objects of interest. He first drew my attention to a church, remarking briefly : " That's where I was married ! " I silently sympathised. A little farther on he casually said: "I laid this side-walk on which we are walking when I was up agai]ist it two years ago ! " I was natur- ally very surprised to hear a man, married to a charming lady and living in a lovely house, talking of " running a saloon " and " laying cement side-walks." ISly English orthodox idea that to work with your hands was derogatory here received its first rude shock. Further, I secretly registered a determination to emulate at the first opportunity my companion's noteworthy performances. Strange is it not how small things alter the course of one's life ? Had my companion been a staid business man, possibly to-day I might be a well-to-do alderman in San Francisco ; whereas he, being what he was, imparted to me much of the roaming spirit of the West — and thus to-day I am what I am ! In his saloon I met all sorts and conditions of men. I fully entered into the spirit of my surroundings (though not too deeply into the alcoholic part) and mixed freely in the company of gamblers, miners, and the usual run of men who are habitues of a bar in the Western States. But for the fact that there was no vacancy I was quite ready to take the job of a waiter in the saloon — to cany to and fro trays of drinks to the thirsty fre- quenters — so determined was I to penetrate into the different strata of life. The intense novelty and the great contrast from the conventional atmosphere in which I had up to then lived gave a zest to all my experiences in the West. After a few days in these surroundings I had carefully ac- (piircd a stock of choice Americanisms with which to interlard my speech, and I made valiant efforts to acquire the intonation of the Westerner, which is not the nasal twang of the globe- trotter or that heard in the Xew England Stares. Notwithstand- ing, liowevc]', my fluent flow of Western slang it was always my English accent that gave me away. Our uneven accentua- t.ion in speech, in contrast to the monotone of the American, c 33 A WANDERER'S TRAIL constitutes, I think, the chief difference between the two modes of speech. Things were very dull on both sides of the bay, business being more or less stagnant ; and so, notwithstanding my efforts and those of my host, I was unable to obtain work of any description. To get any oflice work was out of the question ; and I must confess I was not anxious to obtain a job of this description. It was too tame for me. I therefore decided to go up to Portland, for I heard work was plentiful there and in the lumber camps in the vicinity of the town. I felt that watching games of poker, prowling round the docks, running the risk of a broken head in Chinatown and seeing moving pictures in " dime " shows was hardly the way to make a fortune. ^ly saloon-keeper friend, however, suggested that before I left California I should go up to a fruit ranch owned by some friends of his and there get a glimpse of i-eal Californian life. I jumped at the opportunity and started off the same afternoon. A three hours' train ride through very picturesque country brought me to my destina- tion — a small place called Hcaldsburg. From here I had been instructed to strike boldly through the countj'y due west, till I reached certain roads, one of which led to the ranch. It was just getting dark when I alighted from the train, or, to be more ti'uthful, when I fell off — this unorthodox and some- what undignified method of alighting being occasioned by the unusual distance from the step to the gromid and the absence of a platform. On leaving the station, or " depot " as it is termed out there — with a tremendous accent on the " e '' — I started to steer my westerly course ; but like a true tenderfoot I took the wrong road, passing by the path I should have taken. I thought in my ignorance that it could ]iot possibly aspire to the title of a road, haviiig yet to learn what roads were like in California. Presently I entei-ed a tliick forest of redwood trees. It was quite dark before I i-eaclu'd it, but when I had gone some fifty yards througlithe foi'c^t of toweriiig timber the blackness became so inteiise tliat I could not see a yai'd in h'ont of or above me. IL was only witJi the greatest diJIienlty lliaL 1 could follow the FIRST EXPERIENCES IN CALIFORNIA path I was treading. I had never before, and indeed have never since, experienced such darkness as that which enveloped me then. I was fortunately in possession of good nerves, for the rustling in the bushes and the slight movements amidst the towering timber that every now and then reached my ears in that impenetrable darkness were, to say the least, very trying. However, carefully picking my steps I blundered on till I found my way barred by a fence. I was then confirmed in the belief that I was on the wrong road. There remained then no- thing else for me to do but to retrace my steps, and I accordingly did so. I heaved quite a sigh of relief when I saw once again the light of the stars. Eventually I reached my destination, only to find the farmhouse and its occupants wrapped in slumber. My arrival soon started the dogs going ; they awakened the house- hold, and, as I was expected, a faint voice from the darlcness cried out : " Are you the Englishman ? " My accent, apparently, satisfied them that I was, for the dogs were quietened and I was welcomed in. After my two hours of prowling about redwood forests I was not at all sorry to have some supper and get to bed. To my hosts I attributed the lateness of my arrival to every other cause than the right one ; for I was slowly learning wisdom. The day after my arrival was very wet, a drizzling rain falling all day. However, despite the rain, one of my young hosts took me over the ranch, showing me all the growing vines. The ranch covered many acres of ground, and when we had seen all over it it was full time to have some lunch. The day following we drove over to a neighbouring saw-mill, where I had the oppor- tunity of seeing the big redwood trees being converted into marketable timber. The road to the mill seemed in my inexperi- enced eyes impassable for any vehicle. I had yet to learn the strength of an American buggy and the great amount of knock- ing about it will stand. Over boulders and through running streams our buggy went jumping and bumping from side to side. On taking the reins I found that I needed all my attention and skill to avoid capsizing the vehicle. A Calif ornian buggy is, how- 35 A WANDERER'S TRAIL ever, made for wear and it is astonishing what strain it will stand, notwithstanding its apparently fragile appearance. A buggy on a Californian I'oad is only equalled by a Russian droshky on a road in ]Manehin-ia. From the saw-mill we drove to a neighbouring ranch, the owner of which had some yoimg horses which he wanted to catch and break in. He enlisted oiu- services, or at least those of my companion ; mine were thrown in. Having tied up our buggy we went off to the field where the horses were grazing. I was stationed at the one exit of the field, whilst the other two mounted horses and started driving the animals they wanted to catch down to the opening near where I was concealed. My instructions were to keep the horses from going up the road, the corral into which they were to be driven lying in the opposite direction. The horses were driven out and I executed my flank movement with brilliant success — a not very dangerous or arduous task. The horses were soon safe in the corral ; and then the fun began ! My young companion (the owner of the horses appearing no more anxious to undertake the work than did I) entered the corral and, having marked his horse, deftly roped him with a lasso after one unsuccessful throw. Quickly taking a turn round a tree stump he held on, the captured horse pulling back with all his might. The pressure on the animal's neck soon became so severe that it choked and dropped. The line being slackened the horse quickly recovered, and so the struggle went on. But soon the young animal, moi-e frightened than wild, became exhausted ; wliei'eu])on my companion, sidling a mule alongside, had him speedily tied. The other horses were similarly dealt with, only one of them giving any considerable trouble. To such a degree did this one cari'v his resistance and fight before suljmiltiug that he even allowed himself to be dragged along some yards o\"erthe stony ground behind the mule to which he was fastened. Howevei'. a heavy ^hi]) and the ])aiii of being dragged over the shai'p stones soon showed him the wisdom of submitting and of following the mule. ^ly companions told me that it was generally the case that the horse that resisted < 36 FIRST EXPERIENCES IN CALIFORNIA the longest became in the end the easiest to handle. On the way back I asked my companions whether either of them would ride one of those young horses just caught ; they both replied very emphatically : " Guess not ! " Riding bronchos was, I found, not an everyday vocation — even in California. The usual method employed for breaking in horses is to harness them with mules pulling a heavy load ; this soon takes out their superfluous "freshness." The next couple of days I spent roaming over the ranch. Whilst wandering near a creek I espied some glittering stones in its bed. Geography had taught me California was noted for gold ; so the remembrance of this fact, coupled with the shining pieces of stone in my hand, fully confirmed me in the fact that I had discovered gold. I had not yet learnt that all is not gold that glitters — in more senses than one ! Thoughts of motor cars, private yachts and suppers at the Savoy flashed through my brain. I spent the w^hole of that day w^ading creeks, smashing up rocks, and getting myself in a generally dirty condition. Now and then a slight doubt assailed me as to whether it were gold that I had discovered — for there seemed tons of the stone about ! No ! It was gold, all right ! Having carefully retained some of the choicest specimens to take back with me to San Francisco, I spent two more pleasant days roaming the country round. j\Iany Italians were settled round about engaged in vine-growing and fruit-farming, both very profitable occupations. Several fruit-canneries were erected in the district and fed by these fruit farms. The fruit-farming industry was rather humorously summed up in the sen- tence : — " They eat what they can, and what they can't they can ! " In passing, I would just say that I sincerely hope my reader will not make the same howler when repeating this saw, as attributed to one young English girl (by Americans, of course), who is alleged to have told it to her friends thus : " They eat what they can and what they can't they — put into tins ! " This story was told me in 'Frisco to illustrate and to convince me of the Englishman's lack of humour. 37 :) A WANDERER'S TRAIL Bidding my charming hosts farewell I returned to San Francisco. On my way there in the train I showed my gold (?) quartz to some men sitting opposite to me. One of them, after having examined a piece with a critical and knowing eye, remarked seriously : " Gee ! you've got something good there ! " He followed up these words by adding that he hoped that I had marked the spot from where I had obtained the specimens. I looked at him with a do-you-take-me-for-a-tenderfoot sort of expression and replied loftily: "Why, sure I did." I had one small piece of satisfaction when an assayer in 'Frisco to whom I had taken the stones drily remarked : " Shasta mica ; tons of it in the neighbourhood ! " and that was that I was not the only fool in the world, remembering my vis-d-vis in the train. Having thus gained a glimpse, if only a short one, of real Californian life, I started on my plans to go up to Portland. I felt that it was about time to do some work ! 38 CHAPTER III EXPERTEXCES IX OREGOX AXD WASIIIXGTOX MY return to San Francisco was made just in time to allow me to catch the Strathyre, which was sailing that same evening for Portland, Oregon, where she was to load a cargo of timber for China. As the American law forbids any foreign ship to carry cargo or passengers from one American port to another, I signed on the articles as purser for this short trip. We left San Francisco in the evening, passing through the Golden Gate when it was dark ; when well in the Pacific we dropped our pilot and headed north. On the following day we ran into a thick mist which necessitated a sharp look-out ; the wliistle was kept going continuously. During the day we passed quite close to a school of whales, and I was able at last to obtain a good glimpse of their unwieldy bodies. After three days' steaming, out of sight of the coast most of the tim.e, we approached land and in the afternoon picked up the sea-pilot who brought the ship into Astoria, a small town at the entrance to the River Columbia. Here we anchored. After a short wait for the tide we started up the river under the guidance of a river-pilot. The scenery along the Columbia is very pretty, the banks being thickly wooded on both sides, the long slender pines growing to a great height. The banks were lighted at intei'vals for navigation purposes, these little lights twinkling like fireflies in the darkness of the banks. We steamed through calm waters till we reached Rainier, where we anchored. It was just midnight and the little town lay wrapped in slumber. hiVer\i:hing was quiet and still save for the croaking of the frogs in the forests. 39 A WANDERER'S TRAIL Early the following morning I left the ship and caught the morning train to Portland. We passed through gi-eat stretehes of thickly timbered country, though along the line of railroad much of the timber had been biu-nt do\vn and the scene was barren and desolate. I reached Portland shoitly before noon and was very much impressed by the town. It seemed to me the soundest and most stable on the Pacific coast. The atmosphere of com- mercial prosperity pervading the streets was in some degree lacking in the other cities of like size on this coast — particularly in Seattle. Portland is certainly not so much in the general public's eye nor is its progress sensational ; but its foundation and progress are the more sound and sure. As a consequence Portland suffers less from the periodical booms and depressions which occur from time to time along this coast. A boom is a thing to be avoided, as many a poor investor knows to his cost, but, unfortunately, many of the boosters of these Western towns do not realise that the reaction must follow the boom as surely as thunder must follow the lightning ; and the reaction must ever be in the shape of a slump ! Portland is eminently a conservative city established on a sure foundation. One might term it an inland town with a seaport. Its growth lias been sleady. The harbour is one of the largest fresh- water harbours in the world, and, at the same time, the city lies in the midst of one of the richest agricultural valleys in America — the Williamette Valley. Nearly every foot of it is splendid agricultural land and of yearly increasing value. If I had a thousand dollars to invest, not to speculate with, and had the clioice of any town on the Pacific coast, I should not have much dilliculty in selection. On my arrival I presented a letter which had been given me in San Francisco to the Eastern and Western Lumber Company. I told them I wanted to get a job in one of their camps. I was then ix'fen-ed to the boss-foreman of the camps — a hard-looking s])eeimen of humanity, as he well need be for the j)osition. On my cx]ilaining what I wanted he gruffly asked me: "Do you mind getting killed, young fellow ? " I replied that though 1 40 EXPERIENCES IN OREGON AND WASHINGTON was not exactly anxious I was prepared to take my chance. He thereon gave me a note to the boss of No. 1 Camp, which I learnt was situated at a place called Eufaula, on the Washington side of the River Columbia. Having two daj^s to spend before the river-steamer bound for this spot was to sail, I hired a room for fifty cents a day and in it deposited my bag (ni}^ " grip," I had by now learnt to call it) and started out to see the town. The greater part of my baggage, I might mention, I had left behind in Alameda, realising the folly of can-ying unnecessary clothes while I was on the move. A line from a man in 'Frisco obtained for me a good lunch at the Arlington Club with one of the lumber-men of the town ; there I tasted the famous Hood River strawberry, which though smaller than that at home is quite as tasty. However, it was not so many weeks afterwards that the sight of one of those straw- berries was the surest way of extracting profane language from me, but of that anon. The period of two days having expired, on the evening of the 19th I caught a little river boat — the Beaver — bound down the Columbia, I took with me only a blanket, in which I rolled a few odds and ends, and thus equipped started off to become a lumberer. At nine o'clock we left and arrived at our destination at dayl)reak, having stopped at intervals at places along the ^'iver taking on and discharging passengers and cargo. Despite all the noise and hubbub I managed to snatch a few hours' sleep during the trip, but was awake by dawn. Everything at that hour of the morning was very damp, the dews at night being hea^-y ; but the world seemed very fresh and clean. The sun Avas just rising when I left the boat and headed for the camp to which I was bound. It almost goes without saying that I lost my way through the forest and clearings, but blunder- ing on I eventually came on to a railroad track. Whilst I was inquiring from a man whom I met near by as to the direction in which I should go to reach the camp, a light engine, which I was told was bound there, came along. The driver seeing us 41 A WANDERER'S TRAIL waiting slowed down, and a gruff voice sliouted, "Jump on ! " A quick glance had shown me a small platform on the front part of the engine on which two men were already standing. I assumed I had to jump on to this. I did so, fortunately without mishap, though not without some inward qualms that I might miss my footing and fall under the moving engine. It apparently never dawned on those lumberers that I might not be as ac- customed to mounting running engines as they. In a few minutes we reached the camp. I first got some breakfast. Whether a man has a job or not no one goes hungry in a lumber camp ! After breakfast I interviewed the boss, from whoin I learnt that whilst at the moment thei'c were no jobs going in the camp a contractor working a section of the companx 's limber wanted a fireman for his donkey eiigine. Asked as to wliether I could do this I insinuated with perfect equanimity that what I didn't know of firing donkey engines was not worth knowing. Conse- quently I got the job ! The pay — -that concerned me most — I was told was three dollars a day and " all found." This was as good a wage as was paid for any section of work going in the camps at that time. Having got my job, I thought it would be just as well if I endeavoured to find out as to what kind of work it was that I had to do, and that was worth such a good wage. From tactful inquiries made I gathered that " all I had to do " was to saw up trees, chop them up into firewood, and feed the furnace of the donkey engine. It sounded easy enough ; and whenever any doubts as to whether I was a past master in the use of an American axe assailed mc, the memory of how I successfully hacked down a tree in the garden at home fully dissipated them. On the strength of my job I got " on tick " from the camp-store a pair of woodmen's leather gloves ; and then gaily went off into the forest to find out whei'c I was to begin my work on the morrow. I found the grubhouse and the ]:)unkhouse, and strolled into the former. The good dame in chai'ge presently asked me what I wanted. I i-eplied laconically " Nothing." Finding this pertinent 42 EXPERIENCES IN OREGON AND WASHINGTON question did not hasten my departure the worthy lady went on to inform me that the liouse was only for use of the lumberers during mcal-timcs and was not a sitting-room ; and, further, she inquired : " Have you been in a lumber camp before ? " Satisfy- ing her curiosity on this score (though as to whether in a truthful manner or not I will not confess) I went off and investigated the log-dwelling where I was to sleep that night — and many nights afterwards, as I then thought ! The bunkliouse was a large wooden building, a kind of barn built out of rough logs. I pushed open the door and looked in. ]\Iy first view rather damped my ardour and my youthful ambition of becoming a Western lumberer. The inside of the shack was lined with rows of bunks, in and round which lay littered about in hopeless confusion clothes, boots and plenty of dirt. Having feasted my eyes on this romantic touch of the Wild W^est, I sat down on a tree stump outside and began to consider my position. Here was I, a young man of twenty-one — • who not many months ago prided himself on his immaculate garb —sitting on a mossy tree stump, clothed in a pair of dungaree pants and a rough shirt, a prospective donkey-engine fireman ! The change was so sudden that I felt somewhat like a fish out of water. Nevertheless, I cheered up and consoled myself with the thought that I was seeing the world with a vengeance and was acquiring plenty of experience ! My spirits rising, I began to reckon that, with the thirty-odd dollars I had still left out of my initial capital, after two months' work — I decided I would stop that long — I should be worth two hundred dollars. Tiie idea that my services would not be retained for just so long as / wished never entered my head. Thus calculating I had reached in my mind the stage where I owned half tlie forests ol >Vashi}igton, when my reverie was ijitcrrupted by the men returning from -woi'k. Looking up I s;nv the sun was just setting. After the lumberers had had a perfunctory wash I joined them in their course to the grubhouse. We all sat down to a well-laid table. Tlic food was rough and plain, but v/holcsome and plenty of it. After the evening meal was finished the men sorted them- 43 A WANDERER'S TRAIL selves out — some to play cards, others to smoke and yarn. Some lounged in their hunks, whilst one or two ground their axes blunted by the day's work. An axe is to the lumberer what the lariat is to the eowboy. I sat by a silent observer. Fragments of conversation reached my ears, chiefly on the subject of some individual's latest attempt to paint red the "tenderloin " district of Portland. I felt rather out of it all ; for I was in a little world strange and new to me. One or two exchanged a few remarks with me, but by the majority I was little noticed. When asked from where I had come, I discreetly replied: " From South America." I had no wish to conceal my nationality, which was obvious to them ; but I will frankly admit I was none too anxious to make conspicu- ous the fact that I was a raw Englishman just out from home. Even in the short time that I had been then in these Western States I had noticed that so often when a Westerner met an Englishman of the better class he assumed right away that he was up against a " doggoned " fool. For that we have to thank some of the gilded youths and remittanee-men who have been our forerunners. I had been told many times before I had come out West that Englishmen were unpopular in these Western States ; some of them are — and rightly so too. The tx^j^e of Englishman who, though he has made America his home and makes his living from that country, is yet always belittling the place in which he lives is unpopular and most deservedly so. An instance I have in mind is the case of one Englishman, a long resident in California, who wrapped every child of his at its birth in a Union Jack. Such a type of man both England and America can well do without ! In his own eyes lu may be a patriot in exile ; in mine he is an ungrateful cur. Another type, and perhaps an even more despicable one, is represented by the Englishman who takes out his '' first " papers whilst in America, and on the slightest opportunity will avail himself of American protection. In different surroundings he is a loyal Britisher and the first one to damn the Yanks. With such a type also both countries can well dispense. 44 EXPERIENCES IN OREGON AND WASHINGTON In all my wanderings in the West — from 'Frisco to Klondyke and back — I found without exception that I was as cordially treated as in any other country in which I have since travelled. I found the Western American a man, sincere, and ever ready to lend a helping hand. I have only the pleasantest remembrances of the many types with which I came into contact whilst roaming on this coast. But I used tact and further made use, or en- deavoured to, of the brains God gave me. From the start I avoided odious comparisons, was always ready to acknowledge the many " pros " that life in these states had over that in my own country, and had no intense desire to remind them of the also many " cons." I endeavoured everywhere to live by the axiom of doing in Rome what the Romans do, so far as was compatible witli common-sense. Should these lines by chance meet the eye of any young Englishman who proposes to become a settler in the West — and he could do far worse — let him just note my words ; and if he acts on them, he will never add to the unpopularity of a Britisher in the Western States of America, but will be as well received as though " he came from Missouri." One by one the men turned in and soon, but for an occasional word here and there and the deep breathing of the sleepers, silence reigiied. Outside in the sleeping forests all was still. I had found a vacant bunk well filled with straw some time before ; and this I ap])ropriated. I lay awake listening to the croaking of the frogs and meditating on my new surroundings till 1 fell asleep. It was then about nine o'clock. Men in lumber camps keep eai'ly hours, as they have to be early j-isei's. It had seemed but a matter of an hour or two l)eforc I was awakened by the movements of my neighboiu's. Rubl)ing my eyes and looking about me I saw it was just daylight. I jumped out and put on my clothes — at least, the few I had taken off — and joined the little cj'cnvd of meii outside, each waiting his turn at t])e one tin bowl to get a hasty wash. It was veiy cold, the sun not yet having risen, and the de^v had been very heavy during the Jiight. J>y six o'clock we were all seated at breakfast. Mush, hot cakes, meat and eggs, with hot eofi'ee would satisfy 45 A WANDERER'S TRAIL the most fastidious man ; and one could hardly with truth apply that adjective to a lumberer. Half-an-hour afterwards the whole party of us were on our way through the damp forests towards the part where opera- tions were going on. A few minutes' walk brought us to the clearing whei'c the hauling apparatus was to be found, together with my donkey engine. I scrutinised the latter as well as the man in charge of it, who, on seeing me, pointed out an axe, a two-handled saw, and a large felled tree, and without any waste of words told me to get to work. The diameter of the log was about three feet, and with the long saw I started merrily away to saw off my first length. This I did without any mishap. However, by the time I was nearly through the second length I began to feel pretty warm, the sun by then having risen well into the sky. The heat coupled with the unusual exercise made me very thirsty, and I drank copiously — ^too copiously — of the cool water near by. Having sawn up three or four lengths I then started to chop them up with the long-handled axe. Then it Avas that I found the job was worth three dollars a day ; then it was that I learnt that it was not so easy as it looked to wield an American axe. For with every stroke of the axe I wedged it so tightly in the log that it was even harder work to withdraw it. The engineer in charge of the donkey engine watched for a short Avhile my awkward effoits with an amused smile on his face. I also caught out of the corner of my eye the foreman gazing at my acrobatic feats with the axe, doubtless wondering whether he ought to supply me with a pail in which to stand. ^ The forincr at last motioned me aside and, picking up an iron wedge and a nine-pound hammer, with one or two lieav}^ blows on the wedge split the log in halves ; then, with a few deft cuts with the axe coinpleted the process of converting the log into firewood. I valiantly strove to emulate his deeds with the luunmer, wedge and axe, and added a little to the stock of firewood which — foitiuiately for tlie hauling operations — had been there before ^ A precaution taken with "tenderfoots'' to avoid an accident. 46 EXPERIENCES IN OREGON AND WASHINGTON I came. I also gingerly fed the furnace, till the engineer rather lost patience and told me to put on plenty of wood and not scraps. In this way I laboured on, taking periodical spells of rest, pints of water, and a smoke every now and then, till the whistle blew for the midday meal. How I blessed its welcome sound ! Throw- ing down my axe I followed the rest of the men back to the grub- house where we were soon seated before a good spread. I was, however, more thirsty than hungry after my unusual exertions. Having finished the meal I lit my pipe and, whilst strolling towards the bunkliouse, I met the contractor who had employed me. He stopped and said briefly that he thought the job of firing was too heavy for mc — in other words, he was telling me to " get." In my denseness I did not perceive that he was leather kindly telling me that I was no darn good for the job and was " firing " me ; so I calmly started to reassure him of my ability soon to get used to the work. However, he made his meaning plainer and I realised that I was "fired." He paid me one dollar twenty-five cents for my morning's work ; I repacked my few belongings and slowly returned to the junction a sadder and wiser youth. After all, I thought, it is only a change from the active to the passive mood : I came to fire, but was fired ! I further consoled myself with the thought that even getting the sack was experi- ence ; so what had I to complain about ? The humour, too, of the situation was by no means little : all my dreams of wealth and of stopping there for at least two months being so rudely dis- pelled by the lack of appreciation of my services on the part of my employer. I did not intend, however, to be content with this short glimp:^e of a iumbcr camp so I decided to visit some of the other camps in the vicinity, where perhaps I might strike a softer job. I got i] bed that night at the lumber store, the storekeeper there being a very good chap, who took pity on my inexperience. He even took back the leather gloves that I had purchased on credit. Early the next morning I got on one of the lumber ti'ains 47 A waxdp:hp:r's trail bound for Camp 3, some miles off. The train consisted of about twelve long flat cars, each laden with logs of some thirty to forty feet in length, securely fastened to the car w^ith chains. The logs were on their way to the river station, where they were to be rafted and towed up the river to the saw-mills round Port- land. The dimensions of these rafts are very great, some of them containing over a million feet of timber. The train on its way passed through great stretches of cleai'ed forest which looked very barren and desolate, the ground being littered with broken and chari'ed timber. Fire so often follows in the wake of the lumbei'er and completes the destruction of what young timber is not already destroyed in the extraction of the felled trees, which very ficquently break much good timber in their fall. America, it is to be feared, is living very heavily on her capital in this industry ; for the supply of Oregon pine must soon come to an end, if the extraction is continued to be carried on in such a reckless and wasteful fashion. The term " Oregon pine," by the way, is rather a misnomer, as the greater part of the timber in that state and that of Washington is the Douglas fir, spruce and hemlock also abounding in fairly large quantities. On arrival at the camp I approached the foreman for a job. He was a taciturn Scotsman, concealing, however, iinich kind- ness under his rough and rugged demeanour. He told me that at the moment there was nothing doing, but that if I liked to wait a few days sojnething ^^'ould turn up. I thereon ;iskcd him if I might go over the camp and watch operations. "■ Why, sure ! " was the ready response. I had my evening meal that night in the large grubhouse of the camp, where thei'c were seated some fifty or sixty me]i. During the meal I had occasion to ask my iuigli])()iu' to ])ass nu; the treacle. The following rather aniviiijig dialr)giie tlien ensued ; '■ AVill you ])lease pass me the treacle V " " How's that ? "' was the grunt that reached my eai ^. I repeated my ([uestion, though this time with some little alteration : " Pass me the treacle — that \ cllow tlo])e over tlieie." It was no good ; certaijily I got what I 48 EXPERIENCES IN OREGON ANT) WASHINGTON wanted, but with the curt rejoinder: "Say, can't you speak United States ? " With some heat I snapped back : " What the hell do you call it then ? " "We call that molasses ! " was the surly grunt I received in reply. I did not pursue the conversa- tion any fiu-ther, feeling that it was not exactly wise to argue the point, the odds there being sixty Westerners to one Englishman. Unfortunately I am unable to reproduce the unimitatable drawl of that Westerner, or the drawling " a " in " can't " and " molasses." I leave it to my reader's imagination. In a lumber camp it is a great breach of etiquette to be polite ! If you want an article or dish of food that is on the table but not immediately in front of you, it is not expected of you to trouble your neighbour who is busily engaged eating — all you have to do is to reach over and get it yourself. That in doing so you brush your sleeve over your neighbour's plate, or knock his food from off his fork, why that's a mere bagatelle ! All the next two days I spent wandering through the forests and watching the work that was going on. I first visited the part where felling operations were in progress. The lumberers in this occupation work in couples. The tree to be felled is first selected by them, and then the best place where it is to fall is afterwards chosen, to avoid the smashing of the surround- ing timber as much as possible. When I came on the scene the lumberers were engaged in cutting with their axes a wedge in the tree — on the side where it was to fall. The tree must have been nearly three hundred feet in height, straight as a ship's mast, and it must have measured fully live feet through the centre. With regular and rhythmic blows of their axes the two men, facing each other, had soon cut into a third of the thickness. They then started on the opposite side, sawing obliquely downwards, using a large- toothed t^\-o-handled saw, one man at either handle. After steadily sawing for nearly an hour, an ever-increasing lean of the tree towards the wedged side^ — away from the sawers- — and an ominous cracking warned one of its approaching fall. A warn- ing cry of " Timber ! " then rang through the forest. After a few D 49 A WANDERER'S TRAIL more cuts with the saw the stately monarcli of the forest swayed, staggered, and then dipped slowly forward. With a crash that echoed far and wide the towering pine fell, smashing many young trees to fragments in its fall and shaking the earth. The fallen tree was then sawn up into Icng-ths of varying dimensions under the directions of the " scaler." The logs were then dragged by wire hawsers attached to the donkey engine through the forest to an available spot, there to be loaded on to the railroad trucks, three logs to one truck. The strain on the wires that haul these logs through the forest is tremendous ; and the vicinity, where the blocks or sheaves through which the wire ropes run, is a veritable danger zone. Under the heavy strain the sheaves, though fastened as securely as possible to trees, very often " carry away " ; in doing so they would sever the limb from any human being they struck in their flight as cleanly as would a shell from a twelve-inch gun. Despite the most careful precautions, accidents such as this and others occur only too frequently in the lumber camps ; though perhaps not so frequently as in the saw-mills. After a couple of days at this camp and no job having turned up, I decided to make for the I'ivcr again and catch a boat back to Portland. With this in mind I shouldered my pack and started off for a small place called Stella, a distance of six miles, where I was told I could catch a river boat. I thanked the grim old foi-cmanfor his kindness in giving me the opportunity of getting a practical insight into the lumbering industry, of the working of whicli I Iiad obtained a good glimpse, though certainly not as much as I liad anticipated when I was a prospective donkey-engine fireman. It was late in the afternoon wlien I set out with my pack on my back for my destination — Stella. 50 \ I 111-: I .r\i i;i:k \" \ki • CHAPTER IV TRAVEL IN THE WESTERN STATES AFTER a long and weary tramp I reached the httle town of Stella shortly after sundown. Stella is one of the many little wooden settlements that lie along the Colmnbia, where the timber from the neighbouring forests finds an outlet ; it possesses one or two saw-mills fed by the locality. As is the case with many of the small places on the Columbia, Stella owned a small but flourishing industry — that of scouring the river and picking up any stray logs tliat had broken away, or had been broken away, from the great rafts that pass by on tlieir way to the saw-mills in and round Portland. The stray logs were captured, brought in and sold to the local saw-mill, " no questions being asked." One man, who used a small motor boat in this occupation, told me a good day was worth as much as fifty dollars and more. On finding that the river boat was not due till midnight I looked about me. Anchored off the town was a large Norwegian saili]!g ship loading a cargo of timber for the East. Making inquiries as to what there was doing m the place in the way of work, I learnt that the sailing ship was short-handed of long- shoremen^ — ^the men employed in the work of loading the ship. I asked my inforner^ — a huge raw-boned Swede — what the work was like, to whir a he replied: " Why, quite easy ! " I thought it might be for him, all bone and nuisclc, but what it would be to ]ne was quite another question. However, I decided to tackle the captain on the matter. On my asking him for a job he jcjilied: "Do you want to work ? — well, be down at the ship to-morrow sharp at seven ! " The rate of pay was fifty cents an hour, with a furtlicr twenty-five cents an hour for overtime. 51 A WANDERER'S TRAIL This class of work — longshoring — is the best paid unskilled labour on the Western coast ; and consequently in America as the rate of wages in the west is much higher than that on the east coast. The pay is good, but the work is of the hardest. Having decided on my course of action I hired a room at the one small hotel in the town and turned in early, as I felt that I should need a good night's rest in view of next day's programme. With my last failure clearly in my mind it had not been without some hesitation that I had taken on this job ; for I was then beginning to realise that hard manual work needed a lot of practice. However, I succeeded in lulling my misgivings and, like them, was soon asleep. I was down at the ship sharp at seven in the morning. The boat was lying about a hundred yards off the shore, and to reach her one had to cross over floating rafts of railroad sleepers with which the ship was being loaded. As many of these sleepers were floating singly in the water I had to take great care in stepping, or a ducking would have ensued. I reached the ship in safety, though not without one or two hair-breadth escapes from going into the river. The job I had was that of stacking up the sleepers in rows in the hold. As the timber was very wet, and the hold fairly high, the work was by no means light ; but I was determined that I would not be beaten in this attempt to hold my own. And I won out ; though not v»-ithout feeling very weary and sore by evening, when my hands were much blistered and torn through handling the rough timber. We knocked off work at five o'clock. I returned to my room feeling very tired but very happy ! Iiideed I felt as pleased with myself then and as proud of my victory as though I had graduated from Balliol. My youthful satisfaction at that moment may perhaps not have been as childisli as it might seem, for the encouragement given mc by that moral victory — it was more of a moral victory than of a physical one — was not inconsiderable. It showed me what I could do if I set my mind to it — and tried ! Had I been sacked at noon 52 TRAVEL IN THE WESTERN STATES as in my preceding job, I think there would have been a far deeper sense of shame than of humour. I worked all the next day ; but as the day following was Sunday, when work was at a standstill, and as I further learnt that the work for the next few days would be irregular the supply of timber being near exhaustion, I decided to return to Portland. With earnings amounting to nine dollars in my pocket and my blanket roll on my back, I caught the river boat that evening. Early the next morning we stopped at Rainier, where I found the Strathyre still lying. I decided therefore to spend the Sunday with my old friends on board and return by train to Portland on the morrow. On my relating my experiences to the officers on board the Strathyre they were at first rather sceptical, but my raw and blistered hands fully convinced them of the truth of my tale. To my dismay they one and all began to reproach me for being so foolish as to do manual work. They could not, or would not, see that I wanted the experience. On the following day I returned to Portland, though not till I had inquired at the saw-mill at Rainier if there were any work available for me, much to the disgust of the chief officer who was really quite impatient about my methods. For a few days after my return to Portland efforts to obtain some work were ineffectual, though I made many visits to the various saw-mills in the vicinity. Unfortunately also the survey- ing parties, which go out each spring, were filled up, and consequently there was no opportunity for me to join. Whilst visiting the saw-mills, I was very interested in observ- ing the working of the ingenious and almost human-like machinery there in use. I watched with fascination the large band-saws cutting through huge rough logs with as much ease as though they were cheese, the working of the ingenious " hands " and " dogs " which so accurately regulated the movements of the timber — in short, all the machinery that reduced the parent logs to strips of timber of any size required. During one of my visits I was the unwilling witness of an 53 A WANDERER'S TRAIL accident ol a very ugly description. Whilst one of the large saws was revolving at a very great speed, cutting through the rough log, a splinter flew off and in its terrible flight struck one of the mill hands. The s])linter, over a foot long and of some inches in thickness, pierced the right arm of the unfortunate man and penetrated his chest, ])inning the arm to the body. It AMIS, of course, a fatal accident — mifortunately one of many ! It was during this period of inactivity in Portland that I witnessed my fuvst baseball game, the town team playing tliat from Oakland and the former winning by seven ])oints to five. I am afi'aid that, being igiiorant of the liner points of the game, I could not a])pi'eciate it as much as did the spectators, who became Avildly enthusiastic. I admired, however, the clean fielding and the force the ])iteher ])ut into his thi'ows. One incident rather marred the game in my eyes, and that was when one of tire players attempted to strike the umpire, ])eing dissatished by his decision. For this the player was turned off the field, and most rightly so too ; but I gathered from the little impression the incident seemed to make on the crowd that it was by no means an unusual one. After a week's inactivity I read an advertisement in one of the newspapers for men required for strawberry picking at Hood River. I interviewed the people in connection, and arranged to go up there, after listening to eloquent accounts of the money to be earned and of the easiness of the work. Early the next morning, therefore, I caught a river boat — going upstream this time — to Hood River. We passed on our way some extremely pretty scenery, and soon we caught sight of the beautiful snow-capped Mount Hood. The little steamer had great difhculty in negotiating the ra]Mds in parts of the river, and cautious navigation was most essential, as much of the river-bed was strewn with boulders and rocks. But we reached our destination at midday without incident. Waiting for the steamer at the small landing-stage, in order to return to Portland, was a small crowd of men and women, most of whom had come u]) a few days previously on the same 54 TRAVEL IN THE WESTERN STATES errand as that wliich liad now brought mc up. They wei-c one and all disgusted witli the whole affair. They told us (there were other gulls as well as myself bound oil the same errand) that there Avas not even a living wage to be earned and the work was exceedingly trying. Though somewhat disconeerted by this piece of news it did not wony me much, as it was all fresh experience. I felt also that the beautiful scenery around fully compensated me for the small outlay in the shape of the two dollars for my passage. The others were, however, not so easily consoled. Beautiful scenery, unfortunately, won't feed a wife and six children. On making inquiries I found that I had in front of me a good two hours' walk in ordei- to reach the farm at which I had arranged to work. Strong was the farmer's name, and there apparently seemed to be about a dozen farmers of that name in the neighbourhood ; anyway there were two and I, with m}^ usual luck, was directed to the wrong one, who, of course, lived in exactly the opposite direction to where my man did. After wandering miles about the country I eventually reached my destination not far off sundown. I found quite a motley crowd on the farm, of all ages and of all descriptions. It was not long- before the evening meal was ready ; I did ample justice to it after my wanderings in the country round. As it did not get dark till about seven I was asked after tea whethc]' I would start in right then. Though not feeling at all anxious to start " grafting " at that hour of the day, still I thought it would be more politic to do so. Accordingly I did. The job given me, however, was only to pack the boxes filled with strawberries into crates for transport to Portland by rail. I did this work till dark, and, on learning the rate of pay for this class of work, I calculated I had earned the huge sum of nine cents ! Then I understood the reasons that little band of disgusted grumblers had in i-cturning to Portland. After this job was ovei', I was told to give a hand with another young fellow to Iiarness a team (about which I knew precious little) ; and when the crates were all packed into the cart off we started to the railway 55 A WANDERER'S TRAIL station some five miles distant. It was a lovely night, though rather cold ; but in company with the young American — a kindred spirit — I fully enjoyed the drive On our return I found that there was no room for me to sleep in the farmhouse and, as all the outhouses were also full, I had to select the roomiest cart I could find. This I filled with hay, making it as comfortable as I could with the modest material at my disposal. Wrapping myself up in my blanket it was not very long before I was asleep. I did not have, however, a very restful night, as it was very cold and the dew was extremely heavy. At daybreak I left my " downy couch " and started strawberry picking. My reader may possibly imagine, as did I before I started, that this kind of work is not very arduous, or in American parlance that it was a " snap." Quite the contrary, let me assure him ! Stooping for hours on end picking the berries, with limbs cramped, an exertion trying and yet insufficient to bring out a perspiration under the scorching rays of the sun, was arduous work. The monotony, too, was deadly ! Give me any time a longshoreman's work in preference to such a job as that ! It was the worst job I struck in my six years of wandering — ^save writing this book ! Having plodded on for two or three hours and having reached the end of a row by which ran the main road, I decided to have a stretch and a smoke. Whilst thus occupied, a man who for some little while had been leaning over the rails lazily watching my labours — a wise man ! — started conversing with me. Glad to avail myself of any break in the monotony and quite oblivious of the black looks of the farmei', who, however, had " no kick coming," as we were all working on piece-work, I made myself comfortable and chatted away merrily with my gossiping companion. The subject of our yarning turned on doings in Alaska, where my companion told me he had many friends. He spoke so eloquently about this country that I then and there registered a determination to visit that part of the world before I left the shores of North America. What little things decide oiu' ])ath in life ! 56 TRAVEL IN THE WESTERN STATES I resumed work and continued till eleven o'clock, when the sun began to be intolerably warm. I had by then picked thirty- six boxes of berries, having on the Avhole worked, / considered, like a Trojan. At the rate of one cent a box I had earned thirty- six cents, which, with my nine cents on the preceding evening, brought my total earnings to the sum of forty-five cents ! Many others like myself were pretty disgusted with this state of affairs, especially as the cost of our board nearly equalled our earnings. Having learnt that a neighbouring farmer was paying a half-cent more per box, I suggested a strike. My motion was adopted ; so we all proceeded en masse to demand this increase in wage, threatening otherwise to quit in a bunch. Much to my secret disgust our strike was successful and the price raised to one and a half cents per box. The young American, with whom I had become by now quite friendly — -Abe by name (no one makes use of surnames out West in this stratum of life ; most generally one is called " young fellow " if one's first name is not known) — told me that his brother had just come up from Portland and was working on the next farm. As his brother had with him a tent he was going to join him ; and he suggested that I came along too, I readily agreed. Without informing our farmer of our intentions, and leaving our wages in lieu of our board bill — a poor exchange ! — we decamped during the day with our belongings. The neigh- bouring farmer welcomed us two recruits heartily, for labour was very scarce — a fact not much to be wondered at in view of the poor pay, which though the farmers could not afford to increase. We pitched our tent and soon had made ourselves comfort- able, the farmer's Avife sending us out some ice-cream. I am afraid none of us treated our situation very seriously, regarding the whole affair as a sort of picnic. We played cards and yarned till late in the evening. My two " pardners " were from St Louis, the elder, Emory, having been till quite recently a manager of a large flour-mill in that city, but through some disagreement he had thrown up 57 A WANDERER'S TRAIL his billet and come West to look round. His younger brother had spent most of Iris life on a farm and had also responded to the call of the West. We were all up by the sun and worked industriously till eleven o'clock, without a break, in the full heat of the sun. When knocking off, our earnings were about sixty cents each. We were all feeling very " headachy " after the many hours in the open ; so we point-blank refused to start work again till in the cool of the afternoon. The farmer rather unwisely said too much ; so all three of us, with ti'ue Western independence, quitted our jobs. Having packed up our belongings we returned to the town, there to indulge in ice-cream. We had some time to wait before the steamer's arrival. Fortunately, however, we were kept enlivened by a band of picturesque cowboys who, mounted on fine young ponies, were raising Cain all over the town. It was a glimpse of the old days, now almost a thing of the past ! There were many others like ourselves i-eturning to Portland, and a motley crowd of dirty gypsies we all looked. Shortly after sunset the river boat put in an appearance and picked up its load of grubby humanity. As none of us three was flush of money we decided not to indulge in the luxury of a bed, finding instead nooks about the boat in which to curl up. I was for- tunate, as the night was cold, in finding a warm corner near the engines ; with a piece of old sacking as my mattress, and my blanket as iny pillow, I was able to get a, fairly good sleep. I say " fairly," as eveiy now and then I would be disturbed by the lurching of some fellow-passenger who had been trying to find consolation fo)- his troubles in rye whisky. We i-eached Portland at daybreak. Our next step was to find some work of a different kind ; we found it at the Albina docks resacking flour ! It appeared that certain merchants in Shanghai had ordered a special class of flour known by a certain brand. None of this flour at the moment being available our employei's were despatching a cheaper kind, but pouring it into properly branded sacks. Our work 5S k ■jAll ^1 53 !H 55 ;,„gll>»Hmi wh, ( )i;i;( ,t '\ TRAVEL IN THE WESTERN STATES was to pour the contents of one fifty-pound sack into another, the latter requiring a deal of dumping do\vn before it would hold all the licnii-. It was not by any means thrilling woi-k and was certainly very tiring. Emory gave it U]) after the iirst day ; he had had enough, his knuckles being all torn by the rough sacks. Abe and I stuck it out another day ; and then we quit. We, too, had had enough, our hands being quite I'aw and toj-n. 1 fiu'ther juanaged to get one hand poisoned froin the green paint on the sacks. We had each earned a little over three dollars a day ; so wc were still in funds ! The only solitary advantage about our job was that we \vere always able to obtain very comfortable seats in the tramcars on oin- return in the evening to town. As we were covered f I'oni head to foot with flour, well-dressed people coiuteously made way for us. This was the only redeeming virtue the job had ! After three days of idleness, poking our noses into " dime " shows, our hands giving us all excellent excuse, we decided to go farming. We selected a i-ancli in Oregon State. A three hours' train ride through very pretty country brought us to the place, by name Broadmead, near where the ranch was situated. The country through which we had passed was all well cultivated, fruit farms being es])ccially noticeable. It was pouring when we alighted from the train and commenced tiudging towards the farm whei'c we hoped to get some employment. Having covered a few sloppy miles wet reached the ranch and were all hired forthwith — rathej- to oui- surprise. I did not say much as to my qualifications as a fai-mer, or fai-m hand ; consequently, as my companions were used to the work I was hired with them, the foreman remarking that I looked willing. I could then look most things ! P^ven wise ! That same day we started work. We were all set to the task of sifting landplaster ; and again were completely whitened . We had very decent quarters in the farmhouse — on the top floor, the six other farm hands occupying the lower. Our wages were one dollar twenty-five cents a day and "■ all found." The food was excellent, similar to that in the lumber camps. We had 59 A WANDERER'S TRAIL as much as we could eat, with milk and cream in abundance as the ranch had six cows all of which were in milk, and the dairy produce was all at our disposal. We had to be up at five in the morning, before the sun had risen ; by six o'clock we were working in the fields. After our landplaster-sifting job was finished, we three were sent into the neighbouring woods to cut timber. We went off to work with axes and saws. It was chilly at that hour of the morning and the woods were very wet, as it had been raining fairly steadily for the last few days. After a ten minutes' trudge we reached the spot where we were to work. We took turns in felling the trees (the most popular work amongst us) and then in shaping and sawing up the logs. Here I had the opportunity of putting into practice what little I had seen and learnt in the lumber camp from which I had been so ignominiously '' fired." We knocked off work at eleven o'clock for our midday meal, resuming work at one o'clock. Our labours for the day ended at six in the evening. Having had our tea we were all soon ready for ])cd. after ten hours' hard work — more or less — in the forests. To be frank, none of us overworked, as the foi'cman was a most accom- modating fellow, never worrying himself to inspect the number of cords of wood we cut per day. On piece-work I fear we should not have made a fortune ! After three days of this work we were put to hoeing hops, or at least to hoeing the weeds round the hops, though I fear at times in the midst of some heated argument luany young and innocent hops, as well as weeds, were cut off in their prime. This work was not half so interesting as that which we had been ])reviously doing, and after a week of it the monotony Ijcgan to make me rather restless. Sundav was a veritable day of rest. The three of us spent the morning swiirmiing in a creek wli.ieli ran through the ranch, the wash doing us no harm. I further washed one of the two shirts still in my possession. The afternoon and evening we spent in yarning, reading and playing cards. Of reading matter we had 60 TRAVEL IN THE WESTERN STATES an inexhaustible supply, the bunkhouse being simply littered with magazines of all dates and of all descriptions. " Pedro " and " Blackjack " were the chief games of cards that we played, chiefly the former, as the latter needs coin to make it interesting, and that commodity was conspicuously absent. After some days of hoeing hops I decided to seek a change. The fact of an eruption of boils having broken out on my neck, doubtless due to the bad water I had drunk in the last few weeks, gave me a good excuse to return to Portland in order to get treatment. I bade good-bye to my two shortwhile partners, whom I have never seen since. If by a remote chance these lines should meet their eyes, they will read as well the writer's heartiest greetings. It was near the end of June when I returned to Portland, which was on the day of my arrival gaily decorated for the annual Rose Fiesta. The festoons and garlands in the streets looked very pretty, and the procession, with its charming Rose Queen, was indeed a welcome sight after seven days of " 'oeing 'ops." The day of the festival was extremely hot — ninety degrees in the shade — as I also knew to my discomfort, being well -bandaged about the neck on my return from the hospital. In a few days I was well again and decided to seek fresh woods and pastures new. With this object in mind I went down to the employment offices and examined all the boards, telhng whe]'e labour was wanted. These agencies are a feature of the Western coast. From them a stranger in the town can easily learn where and what are the chances of getting a job. Not being run by Government, they are efficient ; and, if there is work going and the applicant can do it, there is not much time lost befoi'c matters are fixed up. Having scanned most of the boards, 1 never realised so forcibly what a really helpless indi- vidual I was ; for there was nothing I could truthfully say I could do. At last, a man standing in the doorway of one of tliese offices seeing me reading one of the notices remarked: " Well, young fellow, want a job ? I want a nice clean young 'un for a janitor in a lumber camp." Yes, I thought rather bitterly to 6i A WANDERER'S TRAIL myself, that is about all my helpless Enghsli cdueation fits me for. Certainly the most confirmed insular optimist cannot say that our home education does much to equip young Englishmen for the struggle for modern existence and for the battle of life abroad. Though my so-called " intellectual attainments " (including two imperfectly-learnt foreign languages) were greater than those of the majority of the men with whom I had u]) to then come in contact, I realised that they were in every respect my su])eriors in that they could use an axe which I could not ; in that all had some trade or line, however small and humble, to follow whicli I like the thousands of others similarly trained at home had not. However, it ^^'as not to get a job this time tliat had taken me (hnvn to these emjjloyment offices, but to make them pay my ]'ail fai'c somewhere u]) north. This sounds as though these agencies wei'c philaiithro])ic institutions, whicli is l)y no means the case, as all AVesterners know. The idea, to which I had been " put wise," was to select a job in the place wlici'c one wished to go, or failing that as near to it as one could get. You then paid the fee and received a railway ticket, giving as security your " gri]) " or roll of blankets. This is the general procedui-e when a man is genuinely wanting work. In my case, howevei', the " gri]) " that I intended to place in the liands of the ein])loyment agency was one to be Ijought for fifty cents at any Jew stoi'c. On jcecipt of your tick(;t you left the " grij) "' as a secui'ity, and incidentally as a legacy. In the case of tlie genuine seeker of work, the baggage is luuided over to him on iiis ai'i'ival at his destination when he has started work. With this scheme in mind — not a very honest one, certainly, ])ut Necessity is a hard inistress — I selected a jol) of an ex})ert saw-jnill liand iji a place called C'hehalis, which was as far noi'th as I could get. I ])aid rny fee of one dollai' iifty cents and was told to call next nKjrning for my railroad ticket. ILiving made these ])i'e]jai'ations I bade fal'e^^'e]l to tlie few friends 1 had made in Portland. I spent my lasl evening in the company of some Japanese acquaintances, from whom, during 02 TRAVEL IN THE WESTERN STATES my periodical stays in the town, I had received innumerable kindnesses. In passing, I would remark that it seems a pity that Western Americans cannot discriminate a little better between a Japanese gentleman and a Japanese coolie. The latter, I grant, is by no means a w'elcome visitor. Americans, when visiting Japan, are often eager to surfeit their Japanese hosts with profuse protestations of undying friendship and good-will, whereas when they themselves are hosts they certainly do not live up to their words. A little more in deeds and a little less in words would do much to convince the Japanese of the sincerity of the good-will Americans have towards them. On the following morning I called at the employment agency for my ticket, but found to my dismay that the job I had arranged to take had been since cancelled by wire. As there were no other jobs in the direction I wished to go, I received the refund of my small fee and left the oflice disgusted, feeling as thougli I had been very badly treated. My " security grip " had been a useless investment ! These well-laid plans having thus fallen through, I decided to take a boat to Kalama on the Cohunbia, and from there to take the ti-ain to Tacoma. But I determined not to pay fare on the train and to adopt the usual method of the " hobo " — namely, to "■ beat " the train {i.e. to i-idc v.ithout paying fare). I reached Kalama at about six o'clock in the evening and then went to the one small hotel in the town to get something to eat. Whilst there I got into conversation Vv'itli two men, who informed me in quite a matter-of-fact way that they were going to " make " the night freight train to Tacoma. This excellent opportrmity I seized. I i-emarked casually: "Why, so am I." To my suggestion that Ave should join forces they I'cplied briefly : "■ Sure, kid." We sat by the stove yaniiug till nearh' midnight, when we lieard the shrill cry of the do\vn mail from Tacoma, which warned us it was time to get moving. One (^f my companions told me that he had travelled right through the States, fiom New York to T^'risco, without paying a red cent in fares, 03 A waxderp:r's trail "beating" the trains where lie could and, when unable to do that, " counting the ties " (tramping along the railroad track). It had taken him over two months to do it. In America, particularly in the West, there is a very large floating population of men, who migrate from one state to another, never settling long in one place. A man will spend a part of the year in a lumber camp, perhaps the summer up in Klondyke, and will then spend his earnings during two or three winter months in tlie " red lights " of one of the big towns. When broke he will start all over again. Year after year, so he goes on, till rheumatism from the camps, or a bullet in a 'Frisco brawl rings down the curtain. Leaving the hotel, we reached the freight cars and slipped quietly along the rows of standing cars and trucks. I noticed other skulking figures, from which I deduced that we were not the only intending " passengers." I left my fellow-hobos to take the initiative, following in their footsteps, doing as they did, hiding when they did. They first tried the doors of the cars, but found them all locked as they had expected, though one is some- times lucky enough to find one unfastened. Stopping at one car, one of my companions silently clambered up the side, taking care whilst doing so not to be observed by any brakeman. On ]-eaching the top he disappeared for a moment and I heard the sound of hushed voices in conversation. Presently he reappeared and climljcd down with the brief remark: " Full ! " Meanwhile the cars were all being shimted to and fro. the waving lights of the brakemcn's lanterns appearing every now and then indicating to us their wliercabouts. The brakeman is the natural enemy of the "hobo," and there is mighty little love lost between them. I was beginning to get a little anxious as to whether our efforts to bo[ird the tr;iin would be successful. My companions, hoNvever, seemed not to v,orry in the least ; thry knew exactly what was going on and wliat they were goiiv, to do. being seasoned hands. At that })artieular moment I was standing between two ears, just behind my companions who wci'C in the shadow, when one of ilicni glancing r(;und suddenly noticed my 64 TRAVEL IN THE WESTERN STATES position. Quickly lie told me to move away and concluded by saying : " Never stand 'tween cars, kid; you never know when they won't be moved ! " I had barely shifted my position, and the words were scarcely out of his mouth, before the very cars between which I had been standing were suddenly jerked by the engine and started moving. It was a narrow escape, and my co>npanion looked at me with an amused what-did-I-tell-you kind of expj'cssion on his face. Statistics record that ovcj' five thousand hobos are killed yearly on the American railroads. Most of the cars on the train were specially designed for fruit- carrying, being fitted witli ice boxes at either end. We finally found one car in the refrigei'ating box of which there was room for all of us, only one other occupant being already there. The breadth of this compartment, fore and aft, was about four feet ; the width was that of tlie car. To say that we four men were a tight fit in this nari'ow box is a mild way of putting it. However, as it was pretty cold at that hour of the morning, it was not so uncomfortable as it inight have been. Packed thus like sardines, we Avaited for the train to start. We expected every moment to get away, but the confounded train hung about till three in the morning, when it started languidly to cover the distance to Tacoma, rumbling through stations, stopping here and there. ^Ve had been on the mo\'e for about an hour when a brake- man running along the tops of the cars peered into our hiding- place. Seeing us he demanded in the choicest of language : " What the • are you — — hobos doing in there ? " I was the nearest to him. but I answered not a wojd. However, as he repeated liis question in even more forcible language I meekly replied : " We are going to Tacoma ! " It was rather an obvious statement. He then asked us what money we possessed ; to this wc all replied promptly and unanimously : "' None ! " One of my com]-)anio]is furtlicr gently told him to go to hell. Apparently he had no sense of humour, for he waxed wroth at this. He hurled at us all sorts of abuse and tlireats if we didn't '" get." Rather to mv surpj-ise both my two companions "' got " ! They both, climbed out and left the ti'ain, only, however, to clamber into K 05 A WANDERER'S TRAIL another car under cover of darkness. Tlie other occupant and I sat tight and remained riglit where we were. I then remarked with true Russian diplomacy that I had a fifty-cent piece ; this I gave the brakeman, and peace was made. He told us to stay where we were (a rather unnecessary permission) and lie would let us know when the train was nearing Tacoma, when we should have to get off. My remaining fellow-ti'avcller was quite an entertaining chap. He was an ex-Bi-itish naval sailor and also an ex-American, having deserted from both navies ; at the moment, he told mo, he was a barbei- ! About nine o'clock in the morning the brakeman passed over the tops of the cars and shouted to us to clear out quickly as the train had slowed down and was getting u]) speed again. I clambered out, feeling very stiff and o-amped aftej' eight hours in that little compartment. Indeed, it was with no little risk that I ran over the top of the car, which ^vas rocking to and fi'o as the train's speed was fast increasing. Reaching the end of the car I quickly climbed down the side and, clioosing the I'ight moment, jumped. ]My companion followed me and a few seconds later jumped cleai'. But from that moment I missed him. Just as I was picking myself off the gi'ound I ran up against my two former companions and we all commenced trudging towards Tacoma. We were in sad need of a wash. Our hands and faces wci'c gi'imed and grubby, and three more disrc]:)utable " hobos " it would have indeed been dilfieult to lind. However, no one looks '" sideways " at you out West because you are down on your luck, and it was not long before ^ve came on a small sliack where we got a decent wash. Feeling cleaner, but decidedly hungry, we were glad to reach the town and have some l)reakfast. Citizens of the I'ival Western towns call Tacoma " a dead liole.'" '■ Sleepy Tacoma," etc. My stay was not long enough to judge whether tlie city deserved that title or not ; the streets certaiiily did not give one the same imj^rcssion of bustle as the other towns hatl. On visiting the docks the lirst man I met was m\- sailor- 66 TRAVEL IX TLIE WP^STERX STATES companion of the previous night. He was seated on a wharf truck gazing placidly out to sea, " looking for work " he calmly remarked on seeing me. He seemed genuinely glad to meet me again, for, as lie had lost sight of me the mojnent I jumped from the train, he had got it into his head that I had been sinashed up, particularly, he added, as he had seen something white pass under the wheels as he left the fast-moving train and remembered that I had a white scarf (i.e. a part of a Hour sack) round my neck. After assuring him that I was still alive and kicking, and remarking that I also had been wondering where he had got to, I asked him whether there was anything doing in the tow]i. lie said everything appeared to him to be vei'y quiet, and as my impression was the same I decided to go on to Seattle. The following afternoon I caught one of the fast steamers for Seattle and ai'rived there after a two houis' passage. It was a pleasant trip, the scenery of the shores of Puget Sound being very pretty. On my arrival in Seattle I booked a room — a two-bedded one — for twenty-fi\'e cents, as funds were getting low. The other occupant, an old miner, was fast asleep when, after exploring part of the town, I turned in. Seattle looked a very prosperous toA\n. I say looked because I could never find out — and I'm no wiser to-day — what really supports Seattle, a city possessing palatial buildings and an evci'-growing po])ulation. Certainly I recall the city engineer, in the coui'se of a speech which he made during my stay there, re- marking : " We have the two things essential for a great cit>' : cheap l)read and good sanitary arrangements." But, with all due re^|)eet to Setittle's distinguished engineei', I think some- thing more than tliese ncce>sities would be essential to su})port or found a great city. Coni])arative]\' speaking, Seattle possesses but few industries of any size ; and the Alaskan trade (so often cited as the support of Seattle), shared as it is with Vancouver and San Francisco, would not support skyscrapers hke the Ala^l^.a building in Washington Street for long. At any rate I 67 A WANDERER'S TRAIL was quite unable to discover what it is that supports Seattle, and gives it that air of prosperity. Every other person in Seattle seemed to me to be a real estate agent. I wonder how much of Seattle's real estate is really real ! I had in my possession a letter of introduction to some English people who had been long i-esidcnt in this town, so I decided to present it and get acquainted once again, if only for a short time, witli refined surroundiiigs. The residential part of Seattle struck me as bei]ig well laid out, with many pretty and commodious houses. The Western type of residence is extremely artistic, particularly so in California. From the high parts of Seattle, which one reaches by means of cable cars (the grade of the hills is too steep to permit of ordinaiy electric cai's), one can obtain an extensive view of the surrounding countr\'. Beautiful Mount Rainier (or Mount Tacoma, as the citizens of that town call it) stands out promiricntly, snow-clad the whole year round, over- looking the quiet calm waters of Puget Sound shaded by the richly timbci'cd banks. I presented my letter and was very cordially welcomed ; and with true Western hospitality was invited to stay a few days. In the company of the younger members of the family I saw much of life that was pleasant in Seattle. We visited together many of the " dime " shoAvs, which are quite a feature of the Western coast, as also the theatres and ice-cream and candy stores. The 4th of July — ■Independence Day — fell during my visit here. Some few days before, when I had been in the company of a party of Americans, I happened to ask what they generally did on that date, as I had heard so much alsout it. " Why," one icplicd jocularly, "that's the day we insult all you goddam Eiiglislimcn ! " However, the chief feature was a great display of fireworks. Tlie day itself I spent in tlie comjjany of my friends, batliiiig and boatijig at a small place on the Sound. We were most of us youjig people and you caimot beat a party of yovmg American boys and girls for tliorouglily enjoying tliemselves. There is not the same rigid segregation of sex out West as in Kjigland, the result being that the girls are far more natural 68 Ml ir \ I l< \\ ii:k -sa M>.i \ I ll.M.Ii TRAVEL IN THE WESTERN STATES and do not regard every young man they meet in the light of a possible husband. It was on the Madison ground in Seattle (after my return from Alaska) that I witnessed my first game of American Rugby foot- ball. Seattle High Sehool was playing Tacoma High Sehool, the result being a win for the former by thirty-two points to nil. Truthfully speaking, I can't say that I was very greatly impressed by this style of football, of which I heard so much. Compared with English Rugby, there being but little open play, the game seemed too tight, and in consequence, from a spectator's point of view, was rather uninteresting. The rules appeared to be to some extent similar to those of English Rugby, with the exception of the forward pass, which I was told had been but lately inti'oduced. It appeared in my eyes to be a poor innovation. During the course of the game ten men were laid out, though nobody was seriously hurt. The frequent stoppages in conse- quence made the game rather tedious to watch ; for, if one allowed three minutes per man injured, that meant at the very least a waste of half-an-liour during the time of play. If the game did not particularly appeal to me, the attendance certainly did, the relative supporters of the rival teams ex- pending in cheering and " rooting " nearly as much energy as did the players on the field. I think also that I never saw so many pretty girls as I did on the Madison ground the day of that match. I fear gazing at some of them took jny eyes too frequently off the game, so that my impressions above maybe at fault. I made a special note in my diaiy to the effect that if Seattle apparently produced nothing else it could at least boast some charming girls. I found work very scarce in Seattle and, as after a few days nothing turned up, I decided to go up to Alaska. With this in view I made many efforts to secure a job on one of the steamers that periodically left Seattle for the north, but I found such employment very difficult to obtain. After numerous visits to the docks I was at last offered a job as a janitor on board the City 69 A WANDERER'S TRAIL oj Seattle, whicli was due to sail tlic same evening for Alaska. It was, of course, an undci'stood tiling that one signed for the round trip, hut I had not the least intention to make the return trip, or at any rate not yet awhile. ]\[y intention was to deseit on ari'ival. Ha\'i]ig this in view I aecejrted my janitorship, the duties of which eojisisted. I gathered, in doing all the dirty jobs that were to be done about the slii]). The lit'st duty allotted me was to start cleaning u]) the " gloi'y hole " (the stewards' quai'ters), and to make up the bunks there. The first glimpse of the place nearly took my breath away. Ijoots, clothes and boxes lay on and under bunks in such confusion that it was with diffi- culty I could move a ste]). I started on the bunk nearest the door. With a few enei-gctic movements I made a clean sweep of evei'vthing in it, thi'owing all the motley cojitcnts on to the ground. This, instead of eleai'ing the way. only seemed to in- tensify the cliaos that surrounded me. Tlien I confess my heart failed me. After a pi'olonged and melanclioly gaze at my untidy sin-roundings I slowly put on my coat and with a meditative but watchful air went on deck again. Without even saying good- bye to the chief steward I skip])ed down the gangway and shook the dust of the Citij oj Seattle irom off my shoes, and incidentally from off my clothes also. I wonder if my reader can imagine the choice language of the ii'ate owiier when he gazed on his wardrobe and precious belongings all lying in one confused heap on the ground ; or the scathing comments of the chief steward on his missing janitor. I can ! ]Mv arrangements to get up north fi'om Sc\'ittle not seeming to get '' nnieh forrarder," I decided to go U]) to X'ancouver. where I learnt thei'C were often 0])po!tunities to leaeh Alaska by taking U]) cattle, which, in my sanguineness of spiiit. seemed to me a job I could easily tackle. I was not. howevci'. keen on any more janitoi" jobs. IIa\'ing tlnis made up my mind I caught the little steamer llainona on the evening o! the l.^th .fuly. IxjuihI for British C'oiiimbia. The fare was only two dollars, this, of course, not 70 TT^AVEL IN THE WESTERN STATES iiiduding a hod, of wliicli luxury my state of funds, now alaiin- in^ly siuall, would not jicriuit. 1 bade my ehavmijio' fricjids ifood-l)y(' and, witli a last look at the twijikling lio-hts of Seattle fading away in the distance, I said for a time farewell to the hospitable shores of America. 71 CHAPTER V SOME EXPERIENCES IX CANADA EARLY on the following moi'ning, after a twelve hours' sea passage, I first put my foot on Canadian soil. The town of Vancouver, in comparison ^vith Seattle and other Western cities, appeared small and insignificant. It dis- appointed me greatly, particularly after hearing so often from the various Canadians I had met in the States that Vancouver was a wonderful place. I have generally found it to be the ease that tlie smaller the dorp the louder do the citizens talk of its size and prosperity. Vancouver is the smallest of the large Western cities. The go-ahead atmosphere of the American towns seemed to me to be more or less absent up here, and instead a mixtuie of American, Canadian and English ideas, which appeared in some way not to harmonise one with the other. Considering its age, ^'ancouver is a thriving city and one with an undoubted future before it. The opening of the Panama Canal should very considerably increase the volume of tlie trade. To-day, it must be remem- bered, Vancouver is the terminus of several large continental I'ailroads and a seaport of growing importance. I ^^•ould. however, like some of the Vancouver ''boosters " to walk tliiough the streets of Joliannesburg once bcfoi'c they eommenee enlarging on the marvellous growth of their town in such a shoit period. It was in Vancouver that I first came into contact Avith that despicable object — the remittance-man. The bulk of tlie -.pecies I jan across were human dei'cliets, moi-al if not physical Avi'ooks : in most cases living monuments to a father's igno'-anee or a mother's folly I One of the greatest misiakcs })arents can 72 SOME EXPEinFACKS IN CANADA make, when sending their sons to Canada to become citizens of that great Dominion, is to give them a monthly allowance. With but few exceptions the inevitable result is the complete moral, if not physical, ruin of the boy. On making inquiries as to what opportunities there were to get up to Alaska I found that, for the next ten days at least, there were no boats leaving for the northland ; but I learnt that there was a probability of a cattle boat leaving shortly after- Avards. As my stock of dollars was now in its " teens," the necessity to get some work was urgent. The day after my arrival in the town I got a job — the only one I could. It was laying cement "side-walks " in one of the main streets of the city. My work was to shovel cement and gravel and wheel it in barrows along a narrow plank to the desired spot. Some of the terrifying moments I had when the barrow was within an ace of the edge of that plank, not a foot wide, baffle description. It was extremely hard work and the pay was poor, only twenty-seven and a half cents an hour ! In fact, my fellow-labourers told me that it was the toughest work going in the town at the moment ; and to the truth of that statement — at noon of the first (and last!) day — I could fully testify. To shovel for hours on end with a long-handled shovel a mixture of cement, gravel and water, and then to wheel it in a barrow over the narrow plank, uphi Unwell, it was as hard a job as any I had yet tackled on the coast. I struck work after one day ; I confess it was too much for my not over-Herculean frame. Even lithe-limbed Danes fought shy of that job ! Whilst strolling down Granville Street the following day pondering over what I should do, the idea of getting a job in a cigar store suddenly occurred to me. Not letting the idea die at its birth, I went into the first cigar store I came across. On inquiring for work I was naturally asked whether I knew the business. I replied diplomatically: "Well, I'm more used to cigar stores on the American side." This slightly ambiguous ansvrer seemed effectual. Unfortunately, however, there was no A WAXDERER'S TRAIL vacancy ; l)ut I ^vas told to " call a,L>'ai]i ! " ' Alter trying quite a number of stoi'cs in tlie town I was becoming rather dislieai'tened as no success met my eff'oiis. At last I struck oil, thougli I must say not i]i vei'y ]>ayi]ig quantities I The cigar store I came to was oi!(^ \vhicli was being iim In eoiijnnetio]i witli a real estate biisijiess ((>\('i'y otiier man is a real estate broker in the West) : this liUsincss occupied one side of the stoi'c and the tobacconist's the other. ] lenrivt li'ojn the owjier, \\-ho did not seem very prospci-ous. that the cigar stoie would not support an assistant : business in genei'al. ])arlieulaily real estate, he said, was very duU. He a]i])eared. howe\'er, nudecided ; so I placed l)efoi'e him such an eloqueirt pi'Os])eet oi' the immediate large inei'case in his real estate busi]iess tlial would inevitably result if he eiujiloyed wic to look ai'tc!" his eiga= store that I got myself engaged forthwith. I I'cally believe that 1 bullied the poor man into giving me the job ! Unfortunately the })est pay I could extract fiom him A\as a dollar per day. which, to say the least oj' it, was not a \(tv handsome wage — even for Vancouver. Still it kept me going till I could fix u]:* a ])oat foi- Alaska. I ai'ranged to I'lm the cigar store from two in the afternoon till ten at night — closing time. ^ly occupation then for the next few days allowed me to spend the morning at PiUglish Bay — a most (k-lightful I'csort just out- side the town. A cai' ride down Roljsoii Street — scene of my heroic efforts witli shovel and l)arr()^\• — lined ^vitii ])ictin'esque dwellings with shingled loofs and wide open poi'ches. brought me to the bay, whe-e e\'ery morning many came to l)athe and swim. Aftei' my luneli I would tui'U u]) at the cigar ^{ovc and '■ I'un "' it. Tliis consisted cliirily in. silting behind the counter, reading and sinolviiig the stoclv. as customer-, wci'e cons[)ieuous b\' theii' al)sence : in fact I ^\as the best one. -My lii'st day's takings were under five dollars ; and this figure I found was abr)ut the average, with the exce])tion of Saturday — ' .\ j)hra-;(' v<-r\ ')Ht'n in the moutlis di ilic inhaliitraUs df the roast. Wh.'ii a hel\- is pa\ai!.; an riltenin'.ai ea!l uii iier tu'i';l!l):jur the latter, vsiicu siH'i.'ihii;', iirr jMrtiitL; Latent inxariably reuiaiks ; " Call again I 74 SOME EXPEPJTEXCES TN CANADA when sales amounted to about ten dollars. Twenty-five dollars would, I belie\'e, have bought the sho]), though it was lined to the roof with aji imposing ari'ay of empty boxes, which at fiist ill my blissful ignoranee I imagined to be full of tobaeco. (living wrojig change, shaking the dice and yarning with customers helped to pass the time away when I was not readiiig. It was in Amci'ican parlance " a snap." I can recall veiy well the first occasion on which I shook the dice with a customer. I was busily engaged in reading " The Count of Monte Cristo," when a " hard-looking case " walked into the store with tliese words : " Say. kid. do you shake the dice ? I w'ant some cigars." Now, I had seen the dice box under the countei-, but not up till then had I manipulated it ; and I was just wondering whether it would be wiser to confess my ignoi'anec oi' to bluff. I decided, on looking at my customer, on the former. So I replied : " Sui'c, though I'm not very wise about it." 3Iy customer told me not to worry about that ; " I'll soon put you wise, young fellow." He did ; and I won every time, till he quit in disgust with the I'cmark : " You golldarned tenderfoots have the luck of the devil." Another incident I recall very well. A customer had purchased seventy-five cents' worth of cigars and had tendered a five-dollar bill in pa;ymient. Now, in the Western towns of America one never sees the colour of a note from one month to another ; all cun'eiicy is gold or silvei'. In the East the case is exactly the opposite. In Vancouver, howevei', bills ai'c not iin- frcquently seen, and this occasion was when I first caught sight of a '■ greenback." For a time I was scared to change it, feai-ing it might be a wi'oiig 'un. Howevei', as my customer had no small cliange, I had to. I carefully counted out tire change and handed it over. About ten minutes later it dawned on mc that I had not deducted the cost of the cigars as. in my mental perturbation, I had handed over the entire five dollars in silver. ^Vfter a week or so in this " res])onsib]e " position, I secured a job to take up cattle to Alaska. On ap])]ying for it I was asked as usual whether I knew anything about the work. Ivnployers nowadays seem far too inquisitive. To this iiupcitinent qiies- 75 A WANDERER'S TRAIL tioii I replied diplomatically : " Not very much ; but I know a great deal about sheep." Observing quite a large number of those harmless-looking animals in the pens, I felt quite safe in saying that ; though I must confess I didn't half like the look of the big-homed steers in the corrals. Howevei-, I felt I had to live and learn. Of the latter I felt confident, though somewhat doubtful of the former. Those hoi'ns looked so sharp and long. Whatever the cattle boss may have thouglit he anyway kept to himself and hired me. I returned to my store and informed my old real estate friend that I was leaviiig the Jicxt day for Alaska ^^'ith a bunch of cattle. The old chap shook his head dismally when he heard of my intention and Avarned me that in two or three months the Klondyke winter would set in. He also told me tales of the dire distress that I might experience. Not being any too confident myself as to the wisdom of my intention, this old croaker's words rather confii-med my fear that I was taking big chances, which, indeed, was the case to a greater extent than I was aware. However, I bluntly said I was going and that everything was settled. Early the follo^ving morning I was down at the docks and helped to feed the cattle — from the outside of the pens fortun- ately ; for I had been rather fearing that it might be expected of me to enter the corrals and distribute the foddei- amongst the steers. Luckily I was spared that oi-deal. otherwise I i-ather doubt whether these lines would ever liave been ])enned. I was further very pleased to note that the boss kept just as discreet a distance from the horns of the cattle as I did. Three other young fellows were also hired to go up with the cattle ; one was an Englishman, another a Scotsman, and the third a full-blown Cockney who said he was Irisli. Tlic '" Irish- man's " horrible twang made the most profane and slangy American sound like music in my ears. We cliristeiied him " Irish " then and there, and ])y tluit nickname he was always known. He told me a little time afterwards, in confidence, that he was an ex-potman from East Ham. The Scot (he was always 76 SOME EXPERIENCES IN CANADA known as " Scotty ") and the young Englishman, Ted, were both well educated ; and, as neither was a remittance-man, they were in consequence two real good fellows, the rough life out West having made men of both of them. We were as dissimilar as possible so we got on splendidly together. From seven in the evening till midnight we were kept busy driving the cattle, sheep and pigs on board the steamer. The sheep and pigs were all put into the lower holds with some of the cattle, though the greater part of the latter were stowed on deck in the for'd and aft' well-decks, divided off in roughly constructed wooden pens. The steamer on which we were sailing was a fairly large cargo boat of seventeen hundred tons — the s.s. Ilalvard — ^which, with her sister ship, the Haldis — made regular trips to Alaska during the open season. I came across both these boats in China some years afterwards. The drove of pigs we had to drive to the docks from a yard some distance away, through the streets of the town. On our way one wilful pig went off on his own account, and, though we searched high and low for him for a good hour and more, he beat us. He remained at large and may to this day, for all I know, be roaming the streets of Vancouver. We had great difficulty in getting the others all down to the docks in safety, as many of them seemed not a little anxious to follow the example of their erring brother. I learnt quite a lot about pigs in that one hour. Whilst thus occupied I was imagining what would have been said of one doing such work as this — driving pigs — through, say, the streets of some select suburb of London. I could picture the uplifted noses and stony glare of one's aristocratic relations and acquaintances. One would be im- mediately ranked in the Legion of the Lost. After the work of loading the live-stock and the fodder was completed, some large pieces of mining and dredging machinery were put on board ; great quantities were then being sent up yearly for use in the Klondyke and Tanana gold districts. Nearly all the machinery was of American manufacture. The cattle and the other live-stock were British. The greater part 77 A WANDERER'S TRAIL of the cattle eanie Iroin Calgai-y, being ]-ailed from tliere to Vancouver. In the early days of the Klondyke the only supply of meat obtaina])le by those up in the ]iorthland was that sent u]) by tlie cold-storage companies. In I'ecent years, Iiowevci', live-stock is i-egulai'ly sent up to Dawson City from Canada and the States, and there slaughtered. C'old-stoi'age meat finds pi'aetically no demand in Alaska to-day. We mannged ])iioi- to sailing to snatch a little sleep lying on bales of e()ni])i-essed hay. in spite of the hubbub of loading cargo and the noise of the cattle moving, so far as their cramped quartei's A\()nid ]jcrmit them. We had altogethei' one hundied and thill \' steers, three hundi-ed and fifty sheep and fifty i)igs on l)oard. ^Ve got under way just bcfoi'c daybreak and steamed through the Gulf of Cieorgia, between the Isle of \^ancouver and the maJnland. ^Vhen the sun I'ose the shoi'cs of British C'ohnnbia looked vei'y pictui'Cscpic ; in the light of its early I'ays the deep green of the countiy. covered with luxuriant timbc!'. ])resented a vei'v lovely scene. Aftei' breakfast we stai'ted feeding and v,-atering the live- stock. ^Vitl! the pigs and sheep this was easily done : l)ut not so ^vith the cattle, as the steamer liad none of the ordinai'v facil- ities of slii])s in the cattk--cari'ying trade. The- bales of hay wei'c all lying in the lower hold, so each bale had to ])e hauled u]) by hand, and this was by no means a light task on account of their weight. >Vhcu suilicient fodder had been hauled up. we stai'ted disti'ibuting it amongst the cattle in their ])ens. In the open pens this was not diliicult. but in the ])ai't of the "tween decks where some of the cattle wc-i'e stowed it was a more irksome and dangei-ous task, as it neee-^sitated one of us going into the pen, r(cei\-iiig (he fodder From those outside: and distributing it amongst the cattle \\"ithiii. ^Vhilst engaged in this work one needed to kec']) a \\'ai\\' eye on the mo\'ement-^ of tlie steers to a\oid getting jammed or hoi'iied by any of them. \Ve all took tui'iis at this rather risky jol). When the feeding was finished, ^ve started \\atering the 78 SOME EXPEIUKXCES IX CAXADA cattle. This we had to do in a most j)i'imitivc niainier, lor \vc had only wooden troughs available for the ])iir])ose. They wer(; lour feet by one foot, with a rope attached at either end, l)y which means we lowered the trough into the ])en. When the trough was in the pen we turned the hose on and hlled it. 13ut few really got a proper drink, owing to the little space in which the cattle had to move ; for one to turn was almost an impossible task. Further, we could only water them from one side, as the o})positc side was the shiji's bulwarks. Their move- ments, too, often tm-ned over the trough ; and it was quite a lengthy performance before all of the animals were watered. \Vc were compelled also to make pretty free use of our sticks to turn the animals round, as b\' some streak of contrariness they all seemed to prefer facing the sea, the side from which w"e could not water tliem. After the watering of tlie cattle the iroii decks of the steamer became very slippei-y, and the poor animals had a very rough time. Fortunately, the rolling of the ship was not very great as we wei'c steaming thi'ough sheltered waters, but what there was added to their discomfort. In more than one instance we had to get inside the pens to force some animal on to its feet again after it had slipped down and was in danger of being trampled to death under the feet of the other oxen. We had, I fear, only too frequently to use our heavy sticks before the day's woi'k was finished. Handling cattle is hardly a woman's woi-k ! Late in the afteiiioon we anchored at the entrance of the Seymour Xarrows to wait for the tide. It was then iji the cool of the da}', and we four cattle-boys, having finished our work save for an occasional tour of inspection, were seated on the fioo]) smoking and chatting. The steamc]- lay within a stone's- tlu'ou' From the shore and we had a perfect view of the beautiful wooded hills that lay so close. The sea Wiis quite smooth and calm ; nothing distm'bed its sui-face save the occasional plunge of a silver-backed salmon out of the shining waters. After dark we weighed anchor and steamed through the Narrows, Wc all turned in early the first night as we had not 79 A AVAXDERER'S TRAIL had much rest the preceding night. I say turned in ; but we had nothing to turn in to, as our l^eds consisted only of the bales of hay that were in the hold. On these we lay, wrapped in our blankets, and endeavoured to get as warm as we could. The farther iiorth we got naturally the colder the nights became, and the nights on the Pacific Coast even during the summer always strike fairly chilly. The dew, too, is very heavy. The following morning was foggy and we were compelled to anchor for some hours, as off these coasts careful navigation is essential. Shortly after noon the fog lifted and we resumed our voyage. We steamed through Queen Charlotte Sound and when outside we felt the swell of the Pacific Ocean which caused a certain amount of motion to the ship, the live-stock in conse- quence suffering badly as they were unable to keep their feet on the slippery decks. After crossing the sound we ran again into sheltei'cd waters, between the mainland and the countless islands that lie off the coast. The scenery here was truly magnificent ! Picturesque islets, thickly wooded to the water's edge, lay on one side, whilst on the other stretched the shores of the mainland, green and luxuriously timbered, in the background of which loomed the towering mountains Avith their snow-capped peaks shining white in the sun's rays. The fore^^t-clad slopes of the shores seemed to be almost witliin arm's reach. And what a wealth of resources lay there ! Timber in abundance. Forests of fir. pine and beech reared their noble heads over the clear waters at their feet. Plentiful also were the salmon that leapt in countless numbers out of the sliining seas. And mineral wealth untold lay near those towering peaks — silent sentinels of treasure. Our first stop was at tlie small port of Kutehikan, the port of entry for Alaska, where- all the custom-house requirements of th(' United States Coxernment have to be fulfilled. Steaming nortli and skiitiiig the slujres of the mainland, some even more impressive and magiiilieent scenery revealed itself. Beryl-blue glaciers, lodged between mountains covered with eternal snows, gleamed over Liie forests lliaL stretched away to the coasts. 80 A; \-K \. \ ' ' ''"x I l,^• . ii :Mi i;i;--;\ I-; w i i I 'M; \ i.~- \\ ; \ ■ i; w I 'i;i" I. SOME EXPERIENCES IN CANADA Round us lay countless wooded islands ; over us towered ranges of snowy hills overshadowing pine-clad slopes through which beautiful cascades leapt into the sea. Switzerland was out- rivalled ! Two days after leaving Ketchikan we steamed through the quiet waters of the Lynn Canal, at the head of which lay Skagway — our destination. We berthed alongside the wharf in the after- noon of the fifth day out, near by the little river of Skagway which leads up to the once-dreaded White Pass — ^the gateway of the Yukon. We had been fortunate in not losing on the voyage any of the stock, for loss occurs f]-equently on steamers where no provision is made for the cattle. I had now to decide whether I would accompany the cattle up the Yukon to Klondyke, or seek my fortune in South Alaska. Si CHAPTER VI IX ALASKA OX ari'ivn] in Alaska I found myself with choice of three moves. I could go on with the cattle u]) to Dawson City, remain in or I'ound Skagway, or return to Canada ])y the Ilalvard as a sailor before the mast. I abandoned the idea of accompanying the cattle into Klojidyke on account of the vci'y pessimistic talcs I lieard on all sides of the scarcity of work and the bad state of affairs in general prevailing in the Yukon and the Tanana districts. As there seemed also nothing doing in Skagway itself, my thoughts were reluctajitly dii'ceted toA\-ards ]'etui'ning to Canada — a coui'se I ^\•as unwilli]ig to adojjt. 'fhen Fate in a rathei' ])eculiar manner decided for me. Sullicient ioj' me to say now — I did ]iot sail ])y the Ilalvard. ^Vhen the cattle wove all off-loaded and my work finished I took a sti'oll through the little town of Skagway. which mei'cly consisted of a collection of wooden shacks scaitcicd al)()n1 the foot of the mountains. 'I'here A\as one main sfi'cc-t lined \\\\\] stores and sho])N. In a steanishi]) panrphk't I had read thai the to^\■n of Skagway ])Ossesse(l U])-to-dafe stoi'es and man}' neat hon^cs \s-ith ])retty gardens ; further men1 ion was ako made in this ])ani])]ilet of the fact that there Avas much in Skagway jind lis \-ieimt\' to atti'aet the tourist. As ix'ga.rds the u])-io-(h!te stoixs and neat houses I must say that the few I saw wnc e(.)nspicuously rare; and I could nof name aiix'thing tha( siiuck me as offei-ing a]i\' greaf atfraelions (o Die iomisl. unless il were ilic mmihers of cnrpf \' haelss ihal Sl-.a-'Way jx.s-.es-c.l n llc^ oF her p;(s( gweaf- ncs , ! Ska;i,u;(\ iii il,.- da •, . oj ":»; .atid "lis hou rd it-: ii\( or -.ix Ihousajid. whereas lo-day il docs jiot hold as many hundreds. It was iji the raelvtraJn Saloon — the one and only saloon in IN ALASKA the town and the scene of many an orgy and brawl — that I met the man who decided for me my course of action and who became my companion, or " pardner," dm-ing most of my stay in the northland. At first sight we had many points in common. We were both young, we were both out of jobs, and we were both almost broke ■ — the latter being an ever-common bond between us. He told me that he had just come down from Dawson, where he had been working for inost of the time as a dish-washer in a restaurant. He had also been the secretary of the labour union up there, for he was a very well-educated fellow, and an ardent socialist to Ijoot. I think two years of dish- washing in Klondyke, with for many months a tempci-atiu'e of 70° " below," would be sufficient to make aiiyoiie a socialist. It spoke highly, I thiiik, foi' my pai'tncr's strength of mind that he was not an anarchist. A fc^v days previously he had come into Skagway from a small ])Iacc called Robinson, which lay midway between the town and Whitehoi-.sc. In this place he had spent a few weeks after leaving tlie Klondyke, and whilst there had located a copper claim in one of the hills just outside the settlement. He had been, however, done out of tlie claim through some technicality, and it was I'cckoned to be wortli fully twcjity thousand dollars. The claim, in one sense, was ]iot really liis : '' located " was hai'dly the word I should have used. To endeavour to ex})Iain to my readei" the exact position of the whole afl'aii' would take me too long, but briefly to sum up the position it was this : ^My ])artner had '■ juiu})C(l " a claim from a woman, who in tui-n had " jumped " it I'l'om h.er ])artnci', wlio was in Xcw York. The woman, in- cidentally, ran a gin sho]) without a licence and she further owed five hundred dollars to the brothei' of the Ofticial llecordei' at R()l>inson. The I'eader may suggest that he is none the wiser now, and may ask v,h;it on earth these lattei' facts have to do with the ease. ]>ul tlieie is a sinqjle explanation. The wliole question was one o] my paitner's word against that of the ^\'oman (hei' partner in Xew York was not in the act at all — he was hnished !), and the decision rested with the llecordei' at Robinson. Now, the 83 A WANDERER'S TRAIL Recorder kiiew full well that if he gave the decision in favour of my partner his brother would never get back his five hundred dollars, whereas, if he decided in the woman's favour, there was still a sporting chance. Hence his verdict ! The legal question was all one of time — which of the two had re-located the claim first after it lapsed ? According to my partner the woman perjured herself till further oi'ders. There was one strong point against her, and that was in my partner's words : "We can get her run out of the country for selling liquor without a licence ! " My companion had been up till then too dispirited to take any further steps, but my youthful and sanguine temperament in- stilled into him fresh hope and energy. Then and there in tlie saloon we joined forces ; pooled our capital — I had eleven dollars, my partner two — and after a lengthy confab decided to " count the ties " over the trail to Robinson, as there were still remaining twelve days out of the period of thirty allowed to lodge our protest. ;My companion, I might incidentally I'cmai'k, was a glutton for coffee ; how many cups of coffee he drank during our consultations I would not like to say. The following morning we purchased food for three days, and other necessary articles including a gun.^ But little remained of our small capital when he had completed our purchases, and the prospects for the success of our venture were hardly of the brightest. Lack of the '" ready " was our stumbling-block ; if we had had a couple of hundred dollars, half of which to place in the haiids of a smart and possibly not over-scrupulous lawyer, we should have, I really believe to this vei'v day, recovered that mining claim. We started out over the trail late in the after- Jioon keeping to the course of the railway tlu'ough Skagway Valley, and once out of sight of the little town we began the steady climb over the rugged mountains. The trail led along the ])reeipitous sides of the mountains that overlooked the foaming Skagway Rivei-. Toiis of rock had had to be blasted out to mala: \vay for the railway — a railway which was, indeed, a triumph for Britisli engineering skill and perseverance. ' I.e. rc\ulver — all such are Lermcd " guns " m the \\'est. 64 IN ALASKA After walking steadily for a couple of hours with our packs on our backs we left the trail along the railroad and descended to the old one which had been trodden by few since the early days. Beside the trail, here and there, we passed by little heaps of stones — the graves of some who fell by the wayside in that mad rush to Klondyke when pioneers dragged their bleeding feet up the icy stairways of the White Pass ! As I gazed up at the peaks above me I thought on the tragedies those silent moun- tains of eternal snows must have witnessed, the sights they must have beheld ! ]Men dying with their packs on their backs, frozen to death, heedlessly passed by — heroes fighting epic battles with the elements ; men quarrelling like wolves, their very vitals seared by the icy cold; men swept away in scores, like chaff before the wind, by the resistless force of the snowy avalanche.^ Never did sentinels guard more faithfully Nature's treasure- troves than did the precipitous White Pass and the rock-scarred Chileoot, throttling the hopes and lives of so many who sought to enter the Valley of the Yukon. Nature's wisdom was indeed never more manifest than here in the stern White Pass truly named- — the Gateway of the Yukon. None but those who could pay the toll — the fitness and the strength to battle with the privations of life in the frozen north— were allowed to enter ; the faint-hearted and the weak were stopped and turned back on the threshold. Thus was prevented a great tragedy — ^the tragedy of the Yukon becoming a graveyard of thousands slain by the hand of the Arctic winter. And the magnet? Gold! Gold, against which all acid is powerless, is surely itself an acid more powerful than any known to our scientists. It dissolved in those prosperous days of '97 the bonds of honour and friendship as effectively as the rays of the morning sun swept the mist in the Skagway Valley. So intense became the hatred, where before had been love, that it was no unusual occurrence for a division of all goods in common to take place on the mountain-sides, the one canoe even being severed in two to prevent one obtaining any 1 A party of pioneers were, nearly to a man, swept to their deatli by a sudden avalanche of Chileoot Pass in the winter of '97: ^5 A WAXDERET^'S TRAIL advantage over the other. The last scene in that drama is not hard to imagine— two unburied bodies, whose last thoughts were only of hatred and murder. We camped for the night at a " half-way house " almost in ruins — a relic of the pioncci- days. It was fairly cold, and after our long weary trudge packing our traps over the rocky trail we were not sorry to rest. Scrajjing together sonrc wood, including the fragments of an old chair, we soon had a good hre going. Hot ])ork and beans with some coffee warmed oui- chilled bodies, and we sat late into the night yarning and smoking. Thci'c still remained in the old log-cabi]i the wooden makeshift of a couch, on ^vhich we cuiled ourselves up in our blankets and both were soon asleep. The following morning my companion foimd to his dismay that he could barely ])ut his foot to the ground owing to the I'cturn of an old sprain due to the exertions of the ])revious day. As he was una])]e to ]3rocecd without much paiii wo decided to wait there one day and go on the day following. I occupied my time whilst my companion rested in following the course of a creek that ran through the mountains, ever hoping against hope that I might discover gold. When a man is in such pjirts as these — 'way off the licaten track and in a known gold region — ■ he seems to be obsessed with but one idea — to find gold. To find gold he feels as though he would sell his soul, honoiu', and e\'en his chances in the next world. " There's .trold ai:d its haunting and haunting ; It's hiring mc on as of old ; Vet it isn't the gold that I'm wantini^, So much as just finding the gold." ' Every now and then some glittering stone or piece of quartz in the: running creek would I'aise my ho])es. only, however, on closer examination to be dashed. Gold never glitters ! The usual pros])ector\s test for gold is when the dull yellow substance in the quartz has the same appearance and colour from whatever angle ^ " Songs of a Sourdough " ^K. Service^. 86 IX ALASKA he looks at it. Between virgin gold and the wedding ring, between the uncut diamond and the stone in the engagement ring — there is a vast diffei'ence ! After a long and tiring day, tramping over rocky boulders and wading through sti'eams, I directed my footsteps towards the camp ; and not till then did I notice how tired I was, so absorbed had I been in my search. I found my companion seated beside a roaring fire, I'cading some ancient magazines wliich he had rummaged out of the debris and rubbish accumulated. After a good meal we sat by the fire and gazed in silence up at the gloomy mountains which sui-rounded and oveilooked us. It was all very quiet and still save for the distant sound of a mountain stream pouring its waters into its rocky bed, the faint cry of a night-bi]d, and the gentle swish of the breeze tlu'ough the timber close by. The next day my partner's leg was but little bettei-, and, as our sup]:)ly of food would not permit us to go on by easy stages ovei' the ti'ail to Robinson, there remained no other alternative but that of returning to Skagway and abandoning once and for all our enterprise. It was rather hard luck — a case of so near and yet so far ! In passing I would i^emark that this attempt was my nearest to making a fortune. All the foi'tunes seem to have been made before my arrival in the various countries I have visited ; at least, judging by the fact that I am to-day still as poor as a church mouse and by the thrilling tales that I was regaled with in so many places of the fortunes made in " the good old days." The next day saw two dispirited and weary-looking objects trudging in silence aloiig the trail in the direction of Skagway. They talked l^ut little, but gathered every now and then some of the wild raspberries that grew in pi'ofusion on the mountain slo])cs. The contrast between the warm summer in Alaska and the rigorous cold of the winter is very great. The summer is as warm as iu Oregon, flowci's bloom and vegetables grow in ]jlenty. In the Avinter, on the other harid, the land sleeps under its cloak of snow and ice against wliich nothing can prevail ; the glass «7 A WANDERER'S TRAIL sinks to 70° " below " and tlie land is all but wrapped in living darkness. We readied Skagway late in the evening. Our position was not exactly cheering. We had three dollars between us, and, when we had left, the prospect of getting work was not vei'y bright. However, Fate was good to us ; two men got druiik that night ! That meant that on the morrow two vacancies in the gangs working on the wharf ^vere filled by my partner and myself. Our work consisted of trucking freight from the sheds and loading it in the railroad cars which ran alongside. Every now and then we were also called upon to do longshoring — to unload the steamers when their time was short. The work was hard, but after a day or two of it I got into the swing, being now in fairly good trim, and found nine hours of manual work in Alaska not much harder than sitting for a like period in an office. The pay was thirty-five cents an hour. Having got work my partner and I rented for four dollars a month one of the many empty shacks that made up the town of Skagway. There was still some furniture left in it — a large wooden bed, a table, a stove and a couple of chairs ; they were all that we really required. We bought a stock of groceries on credit, and after our day's work we would buy some meat or some fish for our evening meal. Halibut was plentiful in the sea off the shoi-e, so this fish we were able to buy very cheaply. Bacon and eggs, too, often appeared on our menu. Our life during these days was not vei'y exciting. We ^^'ould be at our A\ork on the wharf by seven in the moi-ning and would knock off at six in the evening, with a break of one liourat mid- day. Aftei' our supper we would yarn and smoke till about nine o'clock when we turned in ; for, as we had to be up by six in the morning, we could not afford to keep late hours, esjjceially after a hard day's work. Saturday evening was generally more lively, and Sunday was indeed a day of rest. In fact, I do not think I ever appi'eeiated ^ny Sundays so much as I did then after a week of hai'd "graft." A long sleep well into the morning would be followed by a general clean up of the shack, of the plates and 88 IX ALASKA dishes, and finally of ourselves, who perhaps needed it most. When this was finished one of us would take up an axe and set off to chop a week's supply of firewood, often breaking into an empty shack and utilising some of the spare wood lying about there. And we were not at all particular as to what we con- verted into firewood. It would be not far off sunset by then, and our supper would be followed by a yarn and smoke. My companion-in-toil was a most entertaining fellow and talked very well. Besides being well read, his hard experiences of the seamy and sordid side of life had taught him much — for there is no better teacher than Experience ! He had been out West then over six years. His favourite subject was Socialism, and, when he was discussing his pet topic, his eyes would flash and he would speak with much fervour, his fluent flow of language at times almost approaching eloquence. After we had been housekeeping together for a couple of weeks, my companion had to leave me and take a shack of his own, as he developed some skin disease, which he must have caught amongst the mountains wliere there was much poisoned ivy. It was nothing of a serious nature but, being contagious, it necessitated his moving, Skagway, the name of which in the Indian dialect means " windy," fully lived up to its title. Through the gorge between the lofty mountains, at the foot of which the little town lay, the wind on many days would blow v/ith great violence, and when it rained, as it did very frequently, work on the wharf was far from pleasant. But one can get used to anything in this world, and in an incredibly short time. After a few weeks of regular life in this little out-of-the-way spot, the dark and sombre surround- ings began to grow on me. I grew accustomed to the towering mountains that cast their gloomy shadows over the settlement at tlieir feet. One large glacier, lodged between two jagged peaks, on which the rising sun threw its early morning rays used to gi-eet my sleepy eyes every morning as I threw open the cabin door. When a mist hung over the peaks obscuring them from sight, a feeling that something was missing used to come over me. 89 A WANDERER'S TRAIT. My companion lel't mc in tlic middle of the montli of Sep- tember, restless and anxious to return to the States after an absence of two years. I said good-bye to him with feelings of regret as we had l^cen excellent partnei's wliilst together, I never saw him again ! Having in nn'nd the intention to go into Klondyke, I arranged to take up the last bunch of cattle for the year. I quit my job on the wharf after seven weeks of regular work, during which ])ei'iod I had saved eighty dollars gold. I was strongly advised not to attempt to enter the Klondyke at that time, as the winter was on the eve of setting in, the nights ah'cady having conmienced to ])e cold and frosty. I was told that within the short space of two weeks the Yukon would begin to freeze over and within a month would be unnavigable. Despite all this, I determined to take the cattle up north. Looking back to-day I see clearly the risks I i-an but then ignored, in making my ti'ip into the Yukon so jieai- the approach of winter, whilst every steamer was briiiging down its load of Imndreds leaving the noithland to "go ])elow." The same Providence, liowever, that watches over the sailoi- and the drunkard jnust have kept a watchful eye on me also. With my wad of greenbacks in my pocket, with a cheery last word to my pals, I boarded the train on which were already loaded the cattle bound for tlie Yukon. 90 chapti:r VII DOWX THE YUKOX TO KLOXDYKE AS tlio trail! drew out I felt more like aliglitino- than going on. being not a little anxious about my return. All my l'ellow-woik(M's I was leaving behind must liavc thought I was mad going up to Dawson at that time of the year ; in faet, some of them flatly told me so. But few of them could vmderstand the desii'e, so strong in me, to sec fi'esh. places and to gain new experiences. From Skagway the train ran along the trail we had trodden some weeks before ; near the hanging I'ock at Clifton I looked down into the valley l)elow and caught sight ojice again of the little log-cabin in the mountains iji which we had spent one or two nights. The train consisted of only four coaches, but drawn by three engiiies ; this should give an idea of the almost precipitous heights we were ascending. Befoi'c reaching the White Pass we passed thi-ough a long tunnel and then over a steel cantilever bridge spanniiig a yawning canon. We reached the sununit of the White Pass a little after noon. It had taken us three hours to cover the short distance of twenty miles, from Skagway to the top, where lay the bouiidary line between American and British territory, the two flags flying within a few feet of each other. Thence the train I'an along the Thompson River, skirting many siuall lakes and streams. We reached Lake Bennett at al)out two o'clock, near to Avhieh lay the town of the same name, a small settlement of wooden shacks. After a short stay, we resumed om- journey, skirting the shores of the lake on the eastern side. On the 0])posite side, some miles across, could be seen huge mountains that rose almost precipitously from the 91 A WANDERER'S TRAIL water's edge. At the end of the lake we came to the small settlement ol' Caj'ibou where the train crossed another bridge. Still going north wc passed numerous lakes and rivers ; and had sight of the death-dealing rapids of Miles Canon through which in the early days boats were steered with the Fear of Death for pilot. We arrived at our destination, Whitehorse — the terminus of the railroad — at half-past six in the evening. It had taken us nine hours to cover a distance of one hundred and twelve miles. After the cattle had been transferred from the train into corrals I went off to a restaurant close by to get a meal, and there tasted for the first time a moose steak, which seemed to me very similar to a beefsteak. Here at Whitehorse I had my last chance to turn back, whilst there was yet time, I found I was the only solitary one going into Klondyke, whilst every boat was bringing down its hundreds from Dawson. However, I decided to go on and risk it. We did not start the task of running the cattle on to the river boat, the last to go down the river for the year, till shortly after three in the morning. It was very cold at that hour and the clear frosty sky was brightly illuminated by the noi'thern lights, clearly indicating the near approach of winter. It ^vas not with- out much shouting and cracking of long whips that all the cattle were put on board before daylight. In all we shipped forty-seven steei-s, thirty calves, and a score of sheep, which I was commissioned to hand over to their owners in Dawson City. Just before sunrise we cast off our lines and started the passage down the Yukon. Towards eleven o'clock in the morning I had finished my work of feeding and watering the live-stock, and had, consequently, plenty of time and opportunity to view my surroundings. From the Whitehorse Rapids the Yukon ran through low and liilly country ; the banks were green and in places flowers grow abundantly. It was, indeed, at times hard for one to 92 DOW^" THE YUKON TO KLONDYKE realise that one was within a few miles of the Arctic Circle. How- ever, on the second day much of the scenery was more rough and rugged. A rather unusual incident happened on our first day on the river. Whilst I was down on the lower deck, I heard shrill blasts of the steamer's whistle continuously sounding. On going on deck to ascertain the cause I saw ahead of us two large moose swimming across the river within fifty yards of the oncoming steamer. Naturally every gun on the boat spoke, resulting in the bag of one of the animals, the other having the sense whilst there was yet time to turn back to the bank and seek shelter. It was but the work of a moment before three of us were in one of the ship's boats rowing off to secure our prize. The animal weighed over three hundred pounds, though only a yearling. During the night the steamer made her way along the river by means of a powerful searchlight, the rays of which illumin- ated the dark wooded banks and gloomy surrounding country. Here and there the light flickered on jagged boulders over which the fast-flowing river tumbled. After two days' steaming with the current we tied up at Dawson. It was just before dawn when the famous city of the Klondyke loomed in sight, just outside the Arctic Circle. In the cold small hours of the morning we discharged the cattle, when I was through with my job. I am not going to attempt to describe Dawson. Space forbids ; and, besides, many an abler pen has assumed the task with only a moderate measure of success. Suffice it for me to say that Dawson is all built of wood ; not a brick is to be seen within its confines. Considering the fact that ten years ago there was not a dwelling worth}^ of the name on its site, its present size with all its modern appliances ^ is surely a wonderful testimony to the power of gold. Banks, hotels, churches and saloons are to-day to be found along the wooden side-walked streets of Dawson '*■ Dawson City boasts that it can supply the miner with anything from a tenpenny nail to a 60 h.p. boiler. 93 A WANDERER'S TRAIL City ; but iheDawson of to-day i-> not the Da\v.-,on of yesterday — of '97. Its glory has departed. The famous town of tlie Kloudyke lies at the foot of the Dome — the mountain that overlooks Dawson. From the Dome a magnifieent view of the surrounding country is obtained. One writer describes it in these words : " Stretching away to the north-west could be traced the windijig course of the Yukon on its way to its extreme northern point at Fort Yukon where it ci'ONses the Arctic Circle. On the north and east were visible, ncai'ly 100 miles away, the snowy peaks of the world's greatest I'idge which sweeps northward from the plateau of Mexico, rises in the heights of the Rockies, and is perpetuated in tlie nortliei'ii chain of mountains across British America to the Arctic Ocean. On the south-east lay the valley of the Klondyke and its tributaries — the gi'cat goldfield wliich has lured its tens of thousands of eager and hopeful ai'gonauts to the discovery of gold; has cojitributed over 100,000,000 dollars to the woi'khs supply of that precious metal." The wintci- had now almost set in. the I'ivci' at its banks ha\-i]!g ah'cady begun to freeze up. The days were rapidly getting sliortc-!'. As Dawson is so near to the .Vretic Circle it is light (Veil at midniglit in the middle of the summer ; l)ut. on tlif otlicr Jiand. during the (lc])th of wintc'r tlic' suii makes but a A"cry slioit a]j])ea!anee. On the (lay cjf my an•i^-a] I \-isited Bonanza Cix-c-k. near which the lii'st lind of gold AS'as made. The days. ho^\•(W(•r. of a poor maifs ])r(')])o-itic)!i in the ])]acer workings of tlic- fvlondyke arc- a tiling of the jiast. Jii-.t as on the Rand tliey have given place io the extensive workings of the ca})italist. "Where ten years ago (jiie saw a eoiij)lc of miners wiih a ])an and a few sluice boxes, to-day one scc^ a huge cN ctrieal dredgC'i'at work ; the '" I'reezing- out "' |);(K'c^s. iM;i(icllar a day, when fhe lowest wage for oalinaiy uuskiJled labour was seldom under twenty. During y5 A WANDERER'S TRAIL that mad rush into Klondykc not a single murder was com- mitted in British territory. That alone speaks volumes for the Royal Xorth-West Mounted Police. I was fortimate in being able to arrange a workaway's job back on the Whitehorse (the steamer on which I had come doNvn the Yukon) — a job which was at that moment a much- sought-for one, particularly as this was the last steamer to leave for the year. It was the 29th day of September. The following evening the steamer sailed, packed from top to bottom with its living freight — the last of those to leave the now almost empty city ; the rest, poor devils, to pass months in almost living darloiess shut up in the frozen north. ^ The job 1 had allotted me was that of making the beds for those in the steerage, as well as to give a hand to the various wood-piles where the ships tied up to take on a supply of fuel — neitlier a very oneious task ! The iiist-named occupation generally meant two or tliree hours' yarning with the ow^ners of the beds ; whilst the latter was but an hour or two of hard woi'k. On the hrst day out, whilst making myself generally useful — ^at that particular moment trying to make a refractory stove burn — I got into conversation with a mining engineer, a Bo^^tonian, and during our short trip we had many interesting chats. I formed on this j'iver steamer a friendship which is as firm to-day as then. 3Iy Boston friend was a tactful man, for, whilst informing me that he liad noticed lue roaming round Dawson, he mentioned tliat he had thought that I was not exactly born to the life I was leading. I thanked him for his compliment, at the same time adding that I was glad that thej'e were still iioticcable some strains of respectability in me, which Mere certainly not apparent in my jagged pants, kept Lip by a ro])e, and my lough shirt. Amonj>st tliost- in the stecraij;c was a coon who used to enter- tain us v.-ith jjlaJitation ^,(jngs — and none: but a darkie can sing them- — accompanied on a violin. ' 1 he Vukoji is not 0])en jur navigation till about the middle of .May. 90 DOWN THE YUKON TO KLONDYKP: Against tlic strong euncnt we made much slower progress tlian when going north. We had also in tow a scow— the barge of the Yukon — which made our progress slower still. Indeed through the Five Finger Rapids it was just as much as we could do to steam against the foaming current. The course of the Yukon is very tortuous, winding through every variety of scenery fi'om the rugged gorges of the Five Fingers to the low and desolate country round Hootalinqua. In places the obvious result of glacier movement was very noticeable. On one range of hills the tops were flattened with surprising regularity, for all the world like the turrets of an old castle. Stopping here and there at the many wood-piles, which meant for me an hour or two of "grafting," on the third day we reached Tantalus, where a scam of coal was being worked. Its quality was rather poor. The nights now were very cold and frosty, though it was still warm in the daytime. Steaming through the quiet waters of the Yukon during the night, with the \\'hite i-ays of the powerful searchlight intensifying the dark- ness of the silent and gloomy mountains, was most impressive. It was interesting, too, to watch the pilot flashing the light along the banks till he picked up the landmark he was seeking, his only aid for navigation. After five days we reached Whitehorse, the river boat tying up at daybi-eak on the first day of October. Having an hour or two before the train to Skagway left,' I j-oamed round the town, \vliieh was in every way similar to Skagway, tliough in a ratlier iuore flourishing condition. Close to the town were the Whitehorse Rapids, where so many met their death in the early days. 31uch copper was being mined round Whitehorse, and an excellent grade of ore too. 1 shovelled many a ton of it on the wharves at Skagway and needed no reminder tnat this ore \\as being exported m ever-increasing quantities to the States, there ' Being an ex-eniployee of the railroad 1 was granted a free pass over the line, thereby saving twenty dollars — the fare at twenty cents a mile ! G 97 A WANDERER'S TRAIL to be smelted. Many Yankee tourists on the round trip to Skag- way used to remark this bright copper ore (" Peacock " copper) lying on the wharves in heaps ; and not a few of them thought it was gold quartz from the Klondyke. I was asked more than once by some fair maid: "flight I take just one small piece, please ? '" I blandly gave them all permission. It wasn't mine, and besides they couldn't have taken away a dollar's ^vorth if they had tried. It was on one of these occasions that I was offered my first tip, I remarked one young damsel — she was pretty — -with a fragile pair of boots on daintily picking her way over the heaps of ore, selecting the pretty-looking pieces (doubtless later to tell lier friends : " This is gold quartz from the Klondyke I "). At that particular moment I was sitting on my barj-ow a\N'aiting my turn to get a load- — and I used sometimes to miss my turn. Forgetting that I was only a navvy, I asked the young gii-1 to allow me to gather her one or two pieces. She thanked me and asked me to do so. Whilst I was giving her a few specimens a flat -hatted, dough- faced object, with pants three to four feet across the hips like flour sacks, and chiffoned shoe-laces,^ joined her. On seeing me handing the young girl the several pieces of ore, this lop-sided specimen of humanity described above pulled out a dollar and held it out to me. I looked at him for a moment, raised my rather ragged hat to his companion, and walked away with the parting words : " You'd better keep your money, as I may have more than you ! " He looked remarkably silly, and the young girl, I was pleased to note, looked daggers at him. After all, I suppose it was rather foolish of me — not to have taken it. One hard old case, who had witnessed the little episode, certainly thought so, for when I returned to my barrow he said : " Say, did that guy offer you any money ? " I replied: '" Why, yes I But I didn't want liis mojiey ! "" The old man gazed despairingly at me fo)' a ]no]nent, tJien slowly i-ejoined. einphasising evcjy word : "Say, kid. wlien yoii"\'c been i]i this counti'\' as long as me. you'll ' I lie typical gel-up of ihc modern American tourist — tiic bane of the Far Eastern ports. 98 DOWN THE YUKON TO KLONDYKE take from man, woman or child ! " With these words he left me, looking the picture of disgust. By two o'clock we were on the summit of the White Pass, which was now covered with snow. It was bitterly cold, and from Lake Bennett we had come through a blinding snowstorm. The Alaskan winter had now set in in earnest. Before entering American territory all of us on the train were searched by troopers of the R.N.W.M. Police to see whether we had any gold-dust secreted on our persons. The Canadian Government demands its royalty on all the gold that leaves the country. I told the trooper, who was wasting his time in search- ing me, that of all the gold he found on my person he could have half. He was no richer when he was through ! It was miserably wet and windy when we descended into the Skagway valley and reached the town. Having now completed my trip into Klondyke and back, my intention was to return to Vancouver as soon as possible. With this object in view I haunted the docks for the next few days, worrying every south-bound ship with as much tenacity as I had worried them before to go north. I was fortunate during these few days in being able to get some work again on the wharf, though the gangs of men were much reduced in size since my departure to Dawson as the work for the season was all but at an end. At last my efforts to get a workaway's job were successful. I joined the steward's staff for the trip of the Princess May, one of the C.P.R. steamers that ply between Vancouver and Alaska. My last night in Skagway I spent in the " Packtrain " playing '"blackjack" (a species of vingt-et-un) in company of some miners from Dawson and others, amongst the latter being my three cattle-companions of the Ilalvard, who, since they had come up, had been working in a section gang on the railroad. I was a few dollars to the good by the time we " let up " in the early hours of the morning. Late in the afternoon of the day following — the 9th — I said my last good-bye to the many pleasant fellows ^vith whom I had 99 A WANDERER'S TRAIL lived and worked for so many weeks. I felt quite sad when I saw those gloomy peaks that overshadowed Skagway pass out of sight. I took one long lingering look at my glacier, which was now less distinct, as its before-dark surroundings were now covered with snow. I realised then in a small way the fascination this wild northland had for those who breathed its atmosphere for any length of time. I began to realise the truth in the words of the Canadian Kipling ^ : " I haicd it like liell for a season, and Then I became worse than the worst ! " It was dark when the lights of Skagway had faded away in the distance. The steamer on which I had arranged to work my passage back to Canada liad to call on its way south at many })orts along the south-east Alaskan and the British Columbian coasts, thus giving me an excellent opportunity of seeing a little more of this part of the world. Our fir.^t stop was at the small Indian settlement of Wrangel. This little town is the entrepot for all goods and fi'cight destined foj- the placer workings round the Stikine River. Wrangel, from a historical point of view, is interesting, as it was founded as early as 1834 by the Russians. After the change of ownership in 1867 the United States Government established tlicre a military ])ost and the place for many years was kno^vn as Fort Wrangel. To-day, however, the title of '" fort "' lias been dropped and juueh of its past glory has departed. To tiie sightseer, beyond a glimpse of the Alaskan Indian at home and his totem poles — his idols — there was nothing much of interest. Passing again tlie beautiful wooded shores of the mainland l)acked with their snowy I'anges of moimtains, we reached Ketchikan early in the morning of our second day. Ketchikan is, as I Jiave already mentioited, the custom port of entry for American territory ; it has besides a growing canning trade, the fisheries off tlic coasts produciiig an almost ijiexhaustible supply ' " Songs of a Sourdough " i^R. Service;. 100 DOWN THE YUKON TO KLONDYKE of salmon, halibut and other lish. The salmon is the prineipal fish that is canned. This little town is also the centre of a growing copper district. It was suggested by the second steward just befoi-e the boat sailed that I should help to wait at table during the trip. Being quite determined not to do anything of the kind I quietly and tactfully set to work to make him realise how disadvantageous such a course would be to the passengers and to the ship in general. I gently hinted that I would be quite equal to tipping plates of soup into ladies' laps, as well as plates of pie down their necks. My woi-ds had the desired effect ; and as there were two other " Avorkaways " on boaixl I was detailed off to make up the bunks of the passengers in tlie steerage and to clean up the lavatoiies of the ship ; in short, to do most of the dirty work on board. In other words, I was the " janitor." The other two " workaways " were inspanned as assistant waiters and I wished them luck with their job. I preferred mine to theirs. I say " I was detailed off " to these various duties, but I do not say for a moment that I carried them out to the letter, for when it came to dodging bosses and work — well, in that I needed a lot of excelling ! When the wharf of Skagway grew every moment moi-c distant and I knew that I was safe to go with the ship, my spirit of independence ijiereased. I then inter- preted the duty of making the beds in the steerage into that of yarning and playing " blackjack " with their various occupants, only working like a " perspiring Trojan " when I was warned of the approach of the second steward seeking my whereabouts. I would then be instructed to start the task of cleaning up the lavatories ; on the completion of that task I would be sent off to shine up the brasswork on the upper decks. This was where I scored ; for I spent most of my time, whilst ostensibly industriously polishing door-knobs, in gazing at the beautiful scenery we were passing and in gossiping with passengers. I got so expert by the end of the trip in gossiping and polishing brasswork simultaneousl>^ that I felt that I had at last left the ranks of unskilled labour. lOI A WANDERER'S TRAIL To my sui-prise 1 found nearly all the occupants of the " glory hole " or. in other words, the stewards of the ship, were young Englishmen and, with but few exceptions, public school boys, undoubtedly sons of gentlemen, but not for a moment would I suggest it was a case of like father like son. Their conversation was nearly always on the subject of the ti])s the voyage would produce. I could barely conceal my contempt for them, more particularly when I heard the tenor of their conversation, such remarks as : " The old cha]i in No. 12 ought to be worth a five-dollar bill !" and: "That old girl in No. 6 I reckon is good for a ten spot ! " ; and so on. It is almost unnecessary to add that the bulk of them were remittance-men. During this trip I kept very irregular hours, playing " black- jack " every night imtil very late. I was sometimes out and sometimes in, nevei', however, breaking far into my little nest- egg. By the end of the trip 1 was a five-dollar bill to the good. We reached Port Simpson early in the morning of the 11th, the atmosphere off the coast being, as is not unusually the case, very misty and damp. Dixon Entrance — tlie international boundary line between American and British territory — faces this little port. Port Simpson was for many decades the head- quarters of the Hudson Bay Company, and it still possesses an old fort and trading post. A rather interesting old building stands near the whaif, which was erected, so it is said, before even the arrival of the Hudson Bay men, which was as early as the ])cginning of the eighteenth century. Concerning this building one writer says: "It was in those days a guest- liouse of the chiefs, and its supporting logs were grounded into the earth on top of living bodies. The tale of this house, built on the bones of human saci-ilicc.. is one of tlic many interesting stories of the old Indians." Tntcresting — but latlicr gruesome ! A little to the south of this poi't lies its successful rival — ■ Prince Rupert — situated on a small island off tlic mainland. We made a short stay here. Prince Rupei't at the time of my visit had just been selected as the tei-mimis of the Grand Trunk Railway. It must be to-day 102 DOWN THE YUKON TO KLONDYKE double the size it was when I walked through its one-planked main street. It was then termed " the town of the West in the making," and looked what Seattle and other Pacific coast towns must have appeared in their early days. Whether it will ever grow to their present size Time alone will show. The posses- sion of an excellent harbour is one of the chief reasons for its selection as the site for the terminus of the new steel belt which will soon span the Dominion. Late in the afternoon of the following day we made our last call — at xilert Bay, an Indian village situated on the shores of a deep bay in Vancouver Island. Here we took on a big load of tinned lish for Vancouver, thence to be distributed to all parts of the world. The Indian village with its rows of hideous totems gave me a better insight into the life and customs of the Indian than any of the places at which we had touched. The village, with its wealth of totem poles, native houses and Indian war canoes, was full of points of interest. The totem poles are most hideous monstrosities. The Indians along tliis coast — the aborigines of the land- — are said to have lived for centuries as near to Nature as it has been possible for them to do ; and looking at them to-day one is not tempted to dispute the fact. The following evening we reached Vancouver. Only three short months had elapsed since my departure from British Columbia — but three months that had been lived in an atmosphere of rough and rugged life, in a country of sublime vastness, of impressive wildness and of solemn grandeur : a country that leaves an in- defaceable mark — the mark that reveals to Youth its ]Manhood. 103 CHAPTER VTII TIARD TIDIES OX THE PACIFIC COAST OX my arrival in Vancouver in the fall of the year I found things vci'y dull, the slackness of trade usually associ- ated with the season being greatly increased by the financial panic which in that year shook the great North American Continent to its foundations. Trade seemed utterly paralysed. Everywhere in the streets of the town one only saw crowds of unem])loyed. To make matters wor.^e the numbers were being swelled daily, not only by hundreds of men like myself coming down from Alaska, but by hundreds of others coming out West from the eastern parts of Canada. Further, to put the finishing touch to this deplorable state of affairs, ship- loads of Japanese coolies were pouring into the country in regular streams, taking what little work there was to be done. Was it then to be wondered at that the working men of Vancouver rioted and wrecked the greater part of the Japanese quarter in the town ? The aftermath of these riots, wliich occui-red during the month of Septembei', took the sha})e of the settlement of compensation claims for damage inflicted to pro])ert\' during the I'iots. This was in course of progress on my i-eturn. When I recalled the sight I had witnessed, during July, of se^T'nteen h.undicd Japanese coolies arriving in one batch, and ^\hen I was told that many fresh batches had since tlien ari'ived in Canada, I was not surprised that this coupled with tlie intense stagnation had rouscd the passions of the ^^'orking man. Ik-sides white men out of \\'ork. one saw lunribei's of ^\■hite- turbancd Indians prowling the streets in batches, idle and nearly sta!'\'ing : in fact, many of them did die of starvation and cx- })Osure dui'ing tliat \vi]iter. ])es])ite all this disti'css, one of the 104 HARD TIMES OX TTTE PACTFTC COAST great railways kept calling to tliose in the East : " Come West ! " and at the same time employed Chinamen on the line. In such times one feels sympathy with anarchists. After four days of idleness I went south to Seattle, where I joined hundreds of others in unsuccessful search for woi'k. The state of Seattle was even woi-se than that of Vancouver ; so I I'eturned after a week. To kill time I would stand in company with others and watch the eastei'n train arrive with its load of expectant humanity, which kept pouring in in response to the heartless cry " Come West ! " Yes, some poor devils came West, wliilst the half of us were trying to go East — to go anywhere, in fact, to get away from the monotonous cry of '" nothing doing." Only the railway made money ! Whilst I still had some dollars left I did not worry very much. I spent many hours, and dimes also, in the various vaudeville shows that abounded in the city, and they helped to pass the time that was beginning to hang heavily on my hands. I tried to get a job in my old cigar stoi'c again, but found that my real estate friend had already gone under, an early victim to the depression that was sweeping over the land. In one cigar store I was fairly sanguine of getting a billet. The owner, after my inquii'ing for a job and explaining to him that I had some experience in the town, asked me to put up some pictures in his stoic pointing out for the purpose a rickety ladder on which he himself was too seared to ascend. I spent an hour and moi-e, at some risk to my limljs, in fixing up his advertisement pictm-es I'ound the sho]) ; Ijut on completion of that work I, antici- pating a job, was asked whether I smoked and was handed a five-cent cigar ! He was a Scotch Canadian. Is it necessary to say it ? That evening I obtained a job. I was selected as a " super " foi' the stage at one of the small theatres in the town. My part was that of a factory hand. It needed no acting ; the role came quite naturally after my recent months of roughing it. I received per night for my talented sei'vices the huge sum of twenty-five cents (one shilling), which just paid for my evening 105 A WANDERER'S TRAIL meal. However, I got quite a lot of fun out of it. The fu'st night I appeared I remarked that the leading lady winked at me whilst she was aeting the part of Crlory in The Christian. But the thought that I had made a conquest was sjjeedily dispelled by the realisation that the wink only indicated that I was to shout at that particular moment. Oh, the disillusion ! Some of the incidents behind the scenes wei'c also very amus- ing. The actor who took the part of the Bishop in the play, liaving ended his appearance on the stage by blessing John Storm, remarked as soon as he was out of sight and earshot of the audience : " Lord, it is as hot as hell on there ! " This httle side-play was, perhaps, only equalled by Glory. She had called forth great applause by her acting of a ratln- ■ touching scene, ending: "' Kiss me, John ! " The moment the curtain dropped, and the touchijig request barely out of her pietty mouth, slie called for the stage managci' and swoi-e at him about the arrange- ment of the stage as daintily, and yet as fluently, as only an accomplished actress could. The witnessing of these and other incidents, coupled with the receipt of "two bits," fully repaid me, I felt, foj' placing my histrionic talents at the disposal of the management. TJie following evening I was offered a job of usher in the pit at the munificciit wage of fifty cents a night. I could iiever gather whether tlii'^ offer was a compliment or otherwise. It wa.^ either an appreciation of my suave demeanour and air distingue ov a decided reflection on my histrionic talents before referred to. I refused tlie billet. Dui'ing these days I used to haunt the docks, as the position was fast becoming serious enough to compel me to contemplate a voyage to anywluTe. One du}' I nearly got a jol) as tiiird office!' on tlie Gcorilia, a steamei' tliat ran regularly between Canada and Mexico. I was ])roiniscd the ])Osition failing the unlikeh' alternati\'e that the ship might secui'c a real ollicer with a cei'tificate. Tliis pi'omi>e was the I'esult oi' a talk with the captain, who. for a master on a ship, seemed a most credulous man : possibly he only appeared to me so. However, on the mori'ow I Icarnl that the unlikely alternative had turned uj) loO HARD TIMES ON THE PACIFIC COAST in the shape of a dismissed Empress officer ; so my chance of beaching tlie Georgia vanished. I also nearly went to Boston during these hard times, in response to an invitation from my Alaskan friend. I endeavoured to obtain the opportunity of accompanying a party of China- men who were being sent overland " in bond." This would have meant a free passage to the East and a possible five-dollar bill. I was unsuccessful, being fourth on the list, which, as the railroad cleik showed me, contained over one thousand names ! That alone was a sign of the times. This railroad clerk was quite a good fellow ; for he told me that if I could disguise myself as a parson — i.e. don a dark suit and turn my collar round — he would issue me a padre's ticket, which meant a considerable reduction on the usual fare. However, though I flattered myself I could look like a parson, I could not raise half the necessary cash to buy the ticket, even at the much -reduced figure. Hence, my efforts to go east, either as a guard of Chinamen or as a sky- pilot, were of no avail. I couldn't go east, I couldn't go north, I tried hard to go west, even to tlie extent of making an unsuccessful attempt to stowaway on one of the Empress steamers bound for Japan. So I had to go south. On Thanksgiving Day — 31st October — I obtained anothci- job — to count and weigh frozen carcasses of sheep. This brought in a few dollars and kept the wolf from the door for a few days inore. Tliat approaching starvation quickens the wits is, I think, a recognised fact : judging, therefore, by the following brilliant scheme evolved by three kindred spirits and myself, we must all indeed have been very nea;- starvation point. Two men, whom avc I'an across in — ^vc'll say in the public library — had just dis- covered in Vancouver Islajid the bones of a huge mastodon — a iclie of preliisto)-ie ages, possibly n mammoth of the Glacial Period. They had brought the bones o\'er from the island, and having put them together were exhibiting the skeleton in a liall. charging a small sum for admittance. Well, with these two men The Hard Up Company [i.e. we four) signed a contract 107 A WANDERER'S TRAIL that the company would pay within seven days the sum of a thousand dollars for a six months' option on the brute, the said companj^'s idea being to travel with their skeleton through the States and exliibit it thei'e for a eonsideration. Seeing that the funds at the company's disposal (hd not exceed twenty dollars, a fact of which the prospective vendors wei'C I'ortimately not aware, the })i'ospccts of the company wci'c not exactly of the bi'ightest. In fact, the managing director, who shall be nameless, was discovered two days before the period of seven days had elapsed offering his directorate and all his interest in the Hard Up Company foi- sale, a hint being thi'own out that a five-dollar bill would effect the transaction. The sale, however, did not come off, there being no buyers. Furthermore the sale of the mastodon never came off, there being no cash. On this the company went into liquidation and i-emaincd there. The (hreetoi's all scattci'cd far and wide, the managing director going over to Victoria to try to get a job. The siglit of Victoria was very refreshing after the weeks I had spent in the hybrid town of Vancouver. I would like to use a stronger word than hybrid, but on eonsideration I refrain. The scenei'y between Vancouver and Victoria was vci'y pretty, and one was almost within the harboui- of Victoria, which is screened from view by a rocky promontory, before being nware of it. I almost felt like being back in England again, so homelike is the capital of British Columbia. What was particulaily attractive was the presence of fences enclosing the gaidens of the pictur- esque dwellings — a thing one never sees in any other town on the Pacific coast. The fence is a typiccally English institution — exclusive, insular, and conservative. I returned to Vancouver towards the end of November, practically " broke." but soon gave the city best and left south fo!' Seattle. ]My diary for that day (23i-d November '07) read : " Left Vancouver (I hope for evei' !) for Seattle.'" \'aneouver and I never seemed to agree. Six days later, Seattle being if anything in a woi^e condition than the Canadian town, I secui'cd with my last few dollars a io8 \";i i>>K[\. 1!.C \ AM < 'I \ IK, 1!,( HARD TIMES ON THE PACIFIC COAST passage on a lumber boat bound for 'Frisco. Many others, out of work like myself, were also bound for that city, lying rumours having reached us that things were not so depressed in California as in the north. A heavy swell made our vessel, ^\'hich had a big deck cargo of timber, roll nearly on to her beam ends. The greater part of the men on board — there was not a single woman — spent their time, when not feeding the fishes, in playing cards and drinking rye whisky, which were about the only things with which to occupy time. We literally rolled down to San Francisco, berthing there late in the evening of the 3rd December after four days at sea. Things in 'Frisco were very bad ; even worse than up north. Work was unobtainable. The city was in the throes of a financial ])anic. Men who had hundreds of dollars to their credit in the banks were unable to draw a cent, clearing-house certificates realisable in the April following being handed them instead. Well-to-do men were vainly trying to borrow a ten-dollar bill with which to buy their Christmas dinnei'. My plight was not exactly a happy one. I had had in my mind the idea of spending the winter on the fruit ranch in Hcaldsburg, which I had visited in the early part of the year ; but on meeting my friend I found that he was as hard pressed as I and was at that moment goi]ig up to the ranch himself. He was out of a job, his saloon having failed. So here was I with just two dollars in my pocket ; no woi'k, not the slightest chance of getting any ; and with eveiy probability of being stranded in 'Frisco which was hardly the town I should have selected for the purpose. But my lucky star did not fail me. My good Japanese friends, who during these years have ever been so ready to lend me a helping hand, came to my aid. Through their inlluciicc I was able to arrange to work my passage to Japan in an old tramp. The steamer, at the moment of my arrival, Avas just completing discharge of a cargo of Japanese coal prior to loading in the Puget Sound ports for Vladivostock. On her arrival in Japan from Vladivostock she was to be sold to a Japanese shipowner. 109 A WANDERER'S TRAIL I proceeded to the docks, passing alone along the wharves^ — a thing which no one in his right senses would do at night- time — and found the old steamer that was to be my home for a few weeks. In appearance she was just an ordinary cargo boat ; but she was about as dilapidated an old tramp as one could have wished to sec, lier rusted sides and ancient paintwork fully testifying to lier age of twenty-five years. Her design was old- fashioned, most of her accommodation being aft in the poop, wliicli was connected to the bridge deck by a running bridge over the aft' well deck. Her registered tonnage was two thousand seven lumdred toils. I am not gi\'ing any unnecessary detail j'egarding the Santolo^ for to follow all the old ship's adventures it is necessary lo have a little idea of what she was like. The man-in-the-stieet knows very little about tlie deep-sea tramp that supplies him with liis daily requii'cments. his slight laiow- ledge of the mercantile marine being limited to a su])erficial acquaintance with palatial mail steamers. The Santolo flew tlie German flag, being captained and officered by Teutons : licr crew was Chinese. I said officered by Teutons ; that at the time of my joining lier was hardly correct. Her deck officers then consisted of the captain, a young man of twenty-six though none the worse for that, and the chief officer, an even younger man. The engine staff was equally deticient in officers. The "chief " was only possessed of a second's " ticket," ])esides being hopelessly addicted to drink, and a poor engineer to boot. The second engineer, the only other oflieer the engiiie- joom then ])0>se.ssed, was, however, quite a diffei'ent type of man ; and it was solely due to him that the engines were in a passable condition. My ari'JN'al was somcwliat ()p])0]'tune, the shi]) iK'ing so short of ollieer>. That same e\eiiing — the (ith Dectinber — I trans- feiTcd (i]i board all the baggage whieli I had left in the town ; and the iollowjjig morning flic .^fcamer, iiow Ijeing' emjjty. left the (locks and anclioicd in the bay. i)ui'ing the ])]Ocess of mi- jiKjfjriiig the; ship 1 was jeiegated to the poop to "stand by" ' Jo]" obvious reasons this is not the correct name- IIO HARD TllVffiS ON THE PACIFIC COAST there ; the fact of my being told off to act as second mate made me not a httle pleased with myself. Fortmiately " No. 1 " was an able seaman, so my part of the work went off without a liitch. My experience on the Strathyre also stood me in good stead. When out in the bay the ship had to be fumigated, this pre- caution being enforced to prevent the spread of bubonic plague ; a further regulation was also in force that every ship moored to the wharf must have " rat-shields " attached to their moor- ing lines to prevent any rodents leaving or getting on the ship; The operation of fumigating the ship was decidedly un- pleasant. All parts of the steamer- — cabins, holds, pantries — were tightly closed, after large pots of burning sulphur had been placed inside. For a period of seven hours all these parts had to remain shut, under a heavy penalty. More than one vessel, I was told, had been heavily fined for prematurely open- ing up ; and rumour added that the port authorities derived quite a profitable income out of these fmes, adding yet further that the officials went out of their way not to impress upon the officers of the various steamers the importance of complying with that regulation. I myself observed more than once a spy- glass being brought to bear on us, some official doubtless hoping against hope that we should open up the ship before the stipulated time. However, we were not caught napping and waited the arrival of the rather sulky official, who instructed us to open up the ship. During the period of fumigation I had been allotted the duty of guarding the ship's stores and pro- visions, for with a Chinese crew on board nothing was safe from theft. Some time afterfumigation the unpleasant taint of sulphur still lingered about the ship causing an irritable sensation in the throat ; and it ^vas not till we had been at sea a couple of days that the steamer was clear of the odour. We sailed from 'Frisco on the evening of the 7tli, after having signed on aiiother deck officer and two engineers. The former was, like myself, without any certificate, but was on the other hand a very capable and experienced sailor having been III A AVAXDERER'S TRAIL bo'sun on many Boston trawlers. For some years, however, he had been a butcher in the States. The two engineei's we shipped were both of the " beachcomber " type ; one, without a certifi- cate and with no more than tlie experience of a fireman, was the better man of the two. He joined the sJiip as fourth engineer, the other being in possession of a junior certificate. We were not exactly what would be termed a liighly efficient crew, for, apart from the officers, our Orientals were about as bad a bunch of Chinks as could be sci-apcd out of the dives of Hong-Kong. Thus manned, the Santolo proceeded up the coast to Paget Sound, where we were to load for the East. Being in ballast we made a quick passage and by noon of the 10th we anchored off Port Townscnd. Here we started to load our cargo. As part of my duties as junior officer I had to take a twelve-hour anchor watch during the night in all these Pacific coast ports; Apart from ordinary navigation reasojis, it was more than essential that an. officer should be on watch dm-ing the night, as the steamer was liable to a fine of five hundred dollars for every one of the Chinese c]'ew that absconded from the ship, unless all reasonable preeautioiis had been taken by the master ; and the fact of an officer being on watch could save the situation. It was a long and tedious watch — from six o'clock in the evening till six in the morning — and seemed more wearisome than a watch at sea. Tlie greatest hardsliip was to keep awake. P;irt of our cargo we loaded at Tacoma and part in Seattle. The bulk cf it consisted of flom- from the Tacoma mills, and also a lai'gc consignment of fresh fruit. We also took in Tacoma a hundi'cd Ions of coal, just sufficieiit to take us u]) to Vancouver Island wlicj'c we wcve to coal foi- the voyage, as Tacoma coal is of poor qualit\', with too much dust and too little lump. We had to move the shi]) from bcrtli to berth many times whilst taking in cargo, and in all cases this had to bc^ done by hauling on our lines, the ship not being under steam. On moi'C than one occasion 1 liad to " stand by " on the poo]), and judging fj'oni the fact that I usually got a drink after the operation was over 1 concluded that I managed to carry out the orders from the 112 HARD TIMES ON THE PACIFIC COAST bridge fairly satisfactorily. The work was always full of interest to me, ton times more so than picking strawberries by Hood River or laying " side-walks " in Vancouver. On the evening of the 20th we steamed north for Vancouver Island very deep in draught. We reached Ladysmith early the following morning and started to coal. We were ready for sea by ten o'clock the next day. During the night we experienced some extremely violent squalls — a foretaste of the weather that awaited us — and more than once during the night I had to slack the ship's lines to prevent them carrying away. At eleven- fifteen "full speed " was rung down to the engine-room, and the old Santolo began her eventful and perilous voyage on the 22nd of December 1907. 113 CHAPTER IX A STORMY VOYAGE ACROSS Till". PACIFIC THE .sy^telll of ^vatchc^ kept on the Santolo was that they ^vel•e sliared by two ofiiccj's only ; not by three, as is more usually the ease, when the an-angenient is four hours '" on " and eii^ht hours " off." The watches on board weie scj ari-anged that in twenty-four hours one officer watched for eleven and the other for thirteen hours ; on the next day hour> were I'cverscd. Sometimes, when there are but two officci's. the watches aie shared equally — foui' houis '"on" and four hours " off " ; })ut the foi niei' system is often picferred as it permits the oflicci's to get ]no)'e tlian foiu' consecutive hours' sleep. On OLU- departure from Ladysmith the ca}:)tain told me that I was to share the ■watch with the sccoiul oflicei', a])parently working on the ])i'inei|)le that tA\(j Jion-certilicated nun on ^vatch would be about equal to one eertilicated oflicci. I was, consequently, on watch with the second oflicci' fioji! seven o'clock that cveniiig till midnight, when the cliicf oflicc'' relieved Us till foui" o'clock in tlic morning. Eiom foui- a.m. till eight o'cl(jck was our next watch. At midnight we wei'c al)cam ol' {';\\)v Mattery, steering a wesl- south-M'c-t cour--e. On lea\'ing the bridge a! eight o'clock in the morning a. distijict change in ilie weatlici' was noLiceal>le, the sky having become oxcicast and a strong wcstci'ly wiiid having spj'ung u]). A fast-falling glass fu.ther drnoted a change and warned us of an a])pi()aching storm. ^Vfter breaklasl I turned in till noon. Though expecting some bad weather I was smpriscd when going (at watc-h again to lind ([uite a strong gale blowing : the unex])eeted fojce of the wiiid ii-l A STORMY VOYAGE ACROSS THE PACIFIC nearly took me off my feet. The captain was on the bridge when I went up. He looked anxious. I was hardly surprised, for I knew that we had all our coal - bunkers in the alleyways unbattencd down, being unable to attend to them till the coal had settled. The ship was already making bad weather, being very heavily laden. Shortly after two o'clock " half -speed " was rung down to the engine-room as the seas were getting too high. The glass kept steadily falling and hourly the wind grew stronger. By " six bells " in the aftci-noon watch the gale had increased to a hurricane. So terrific was the force of the wind that the seas were almost beaten down flat, and only one white mass of foam met our gaze. It was nearly impossible to see beyond the bows of the steamer so blinded were we on the bridge by the driving rain and spray. The hurricane increased in force till it I'cached its height late in the afternoon. Its fury then was beyond description, the force of the wind incalculable. Rather foolishly the captain had delayed heaving to, and the heavily laden tramp was now labouring badly in the seas. To heave to at once was imperative. Shortly before four o'clock this was done, though not before some big seas had swept us fore and aft carrying away numerous spars and stanchions. One heavy sea struck us on the port-side ; it broke clear over the ship, smashing the engine-room skylights and pouring a ton of water or more dowii on to the engines below. A quartermaster was sent from the bridge to make fast some canvas over the part wliere the skylight had carried away. Whilst thus occupied the first of the long list of accidents and troubles that befell us on that eventful voyage occurred. A big sea struck the ship ; there was a lurch; a foothold was lost — and all was over. Carried by the almost irresistible feen Ijattc-ned down. T(.) ])''e\ent an (■x])losi<)n the iiix-. wc-re dra\\'n. E\'c-n the [)hites of the stokeliojd were wa->h((l up by the quairtit\' of water shipped and mo\'ed io and fio with e\'ery lurch of the vessel. The bilges were full ; and to make matters worse the ii8 A STORMY VOYAGE ACROSS THE PACIFIC piiin])s on exainiiiatioi) were found to be useless, being elioked by tlie aniouni of eoal dust that had been washed down through the bunkers. This tlien was the position- — as well as my pen ean desciibe it — in whieh we found ourselves when day broke on tlie morning of the 24th of December. At five o'clock that moi'ning I went on watch alone till ten o'clock, relieving the seco]id officer ; our regular watches were quite disoi-ganised. The storm had by now blown itself out, but the seas wei'C still running mountains high and the ship was rolling heavily. By noon the engineei-s had repaired the broken rod and the steering gear was put into woi-king order. Late in the day steam was got up in one of the boilei's and the ship was bi'ought under control. The seas were, however, still too high to permit us to resume our westward course, so the ship was hove to. That night was fairly fine, but the anxiety as to whether the steering gear would stand the incessant strain of the big seas that were running was with us the whole night. In ordei- to relieve the strain and lessen the jerking we fixed running blocks and tackles to the quadrant — a pi-ecaution it would have been wisei' to have adopted before the accident ! By midnight the seas had modei'ated enough to allow us to resume our course, though the engines were only put at half- speed. Our progress was consequently slow. The day — Christmas Day — ^broke dull and threatening. Another serious trouble now confronted us. Owing to the con- tinual rolling and lurching of the steamer the cargo in two of the hatches had shifted considerably, listing the ship well over to starboard. By noon she was listing fully seven degi-ees. Thei'e was nothing to be done but open up the hatches and retrim the sliifted cargo. To o])en up hatches while big seas were being con- tinually shipped was a risk we had to run. The ever-increasing list of the ship was a serious danger, one that might at any moment be the cause of the vessel foundei'ing. Consequently the best part of the day was spent under the hatches restowing the sacks of flour. All hands, from the chief officer to the cook, were 119 A WANDERER'S TRAIL engaged. The Chinese had by now recovered from their i'right since the danger of foundering was for a time averted. By night- time the ship was considerably straightened. It was not, certainly,the most ideal way of spending the season of Christmas ; we had, however, no alternative. My Christmas fare consisted of some old salted pork — ^of very doubtful age— with the luxury of a bottle of German beer. Salt junk was the staple diet on board. Ratiojis of one tin of milk, two pounds of sugar, and tea, had to last five of us in a mess for a week — of course, it never did. We had also some tough Shanghai pigs on board. Eating them in no way compensated us for the ungodly row they raised in bad weather. At daybreak on the following morning — Boxing Day — the clattering of chains amidships and the ship falling off her course informed us that once again the steei'ing gear had broken. I was on watch at the time. A glance at the compass was enough ! Calling out all hands I rushed aft. In a moment I saw that the repaired rod had again parted. Fortunately the mate had had the foresight to leave in readiness the wire hawser ; so it was not long before the rudder was securely lashed. Perceiving the use- lessness of again repairing the rod we substituted in its stead a length of wire rope. This answered rather too successfully, as the strength of the wire threw exti'a strain on the chains round the quadrant. In the night watch a link in one of these chains snapped ; and — for the third time — the ship drifted helpless before the wind. The link was repaired and for the third time we endeavoured to continue our luckless voyage ! The old tramp was a veritable '' coffin-sliij) "' ; overladen, ill-equipped, under- manned^ — and yd she zvas 100 .i 1 at Lloyd's ! I wonder who was the surveyor ! The Santolo certainly boi'c a charmed life. It was something to have been adi'ift three times in the worst weather imaginable and yet to be still afloat ! The idea of continuing our attempt to make the northern ])ass;ige through the Paeifie to Vladivo^toek in our present battered eoiiditio]i was abandoned, despite the exhortations of 120 A STORIVIY VOYAGE ACROSS THE PACIFIC the captain, who, poor devil, was anxious to make the speediest voyage possible. It was Iiis first command. But it was obvious to all that a few more days of similar battering about would be the finish of the old steamer — doubtless to the great regret of the owners ! I say this because it came to my ears that the ship was to be sold to the Japanese for a sum considerably less than that for which she was insured ! Our course was changed and we headed for Honolulu, in the Hawaiian Islands, to put in for repairs. The weather till the 29th kept moderately good — moderately, in comparison with the weather we had been lately enjoying. We made but poor progress, though, owing to the heavy seas that were running- — the aftermath of the gales that had been sweeping over these northerly waters. I would like to meet the man who gave to this ocean the name of PACIFIC ! In the evening of that day a heavy gale from the south-east sprung up. The seas soon got too high for us to proceed, and again for some hours we were compelled to heave to. When the storm abated and the seas had moderated to some extent we resumed our course. Xot for long, liowever, as an even stronger gale broke over the ship the following day. Again we lay hove to for houi's ! During all this bad weather we had with us the continual anxiety as to whether our patched-up steering gear would stand the strain of the mountainous seas that broke over the ship. We became nervous as cats. On watch the sound of the fireman damping over the ashes would strike our ears as the sound of steering chains unshipped ; and for a moment our hearts would be in our mouths. Fortunately the gear held. We all considered ourselves very lucky that we had come out of the storm, and that the damage had been no worse. But we had no wish to try the capricious kindness of Fate too much, for fear she might take it into her head to withhold her helping hand on the next occasion. With every storm the vessel met the cabins amidships were flooded. The ship leaked like a sieve ! The pumps were kept going more or less continuously the whole voyage. The bilges and bi]gc-pum})s were now in order 121 A WANDERER'S TRAII> again, tliougli not till alter sonic \Tr\' tr\ing woi'k for the engineers. On the last day of the year the weather eleared and the seas modei-ated. We set our eourse south-west and rang down " full s])eed " — for nearly the fu'st time sinee our departure. Oiu' Oriental erew from the outset of the voyage had been constantly giving trouble, quite apart from theii- mutinous behavioui' whilst the shi]) was in distress. This day was marked on our log as the occasion of an attempt on the life of the captain by one of the ci-ew, who had been detected in the theft of some of the ship's stoi'cs. The Chinaman was put in irons. He w-as kept there for forty-eight hours and was only released because he was the ship's cook. He had to thank liis unspeakable deputy for the taking-off of the chains of justice, for as long as he was in irons no one could get a decently cooked meal. The only ill effect from the many days of exposure through which I had passed was a sore throat. But seeing that since leaving Ladysmith none of us had changed our daily soaked clothes, or doffed our sea-boots for many liours, I felt I had nothing much to complain about. I must confess though that during these few days I felt I had received somewhat more experi- ence than I cared for ; that the goddess of the shiine at which I was dedicating my young life was hardly " playing the game." I recalled that, during the time when I was on the Strathyre, on many occasions — always in the fmc weather ! — I had secretly wished for the ship to go ashoi'c in order to obtain the experience of being shipwrecked. But on the Santolo. dming the few days we were lying helpless and disabled in those tei-rifie seas witfi every probability of being wrecked, my thoughts were of quite a different order. I do hope I have not conveyed the im- pression that during these days I was a little tin hero ; that I stood on the bridge like a young Nelso]i, undismayed, fearless and calm ! If I have — let me set mattci's right. When I caught sight of some of those horrible green-crested wa\'es rolling towards the old ti'ani]) adi'ift on the ocean I ^^'as far from feeling undismayed, or calm, oi- feai'less. I will be quite candid. 122 A STORMY VOYAGE ACROSS THE PACIFIC There was not much undismayed, calm and i'eai'less demeanour about me when, on one occasion, I missed my footing and, caught at tlie some moment by a big sea whieli cnme on board unannounced, was swept to the i-ails, where, but for (jnetliin bar to whieli I chmg like grim death with my feet in the water, I liad been overboard! The day of the Ncm' Year (1908) broke fiiie and sunny, as we wei'e now getting into more southerly latitudes. We saw the Old Year out on the bridge with a bowl of claret-cup. The light winds and calm seas were most welcome to us after the days of storms and gales, for we all felt that we had had our fill of bad weather in that one week- — enouo-h to last us for the vovaffc. Steaming south-west we sighted the Hawaiian Islands on the evening of the 6th, when we entered the ti'opics. That evening I witnessed perhaps the most perfect sunset I have ever seen at sea. 3Iy diary records it in rather extravagant language : " Gorgeous sunset — ^indesci-ibable by pen, unportrayable by brush ! " The words were moi-e than true, for not even Turner with his magic touch could have transferred to a canvas one- tenth of those delicate tints and rich blending colours at which I gazed for so many minutes spellbound. We anehoied eai-ly in the morning in Honolulu, having stood on ajid off from the island of Oahu during the night. I had learnt before my arrival that the climate of the Hawaiian Islands was nearly the finest in the world ; and I must say that during the ten days or so that we lay at anchor in Honolulu it fully lived up to the reputation. The sim shone all the time, the heat of the day being tempci'cd by the cool trade breezes that bhnv the year round. The ai'rival of our steamer "in distress" at the Sandwich Islands — a veritable oasis in the desert of the Pacific — furnished the Yankee reporteis with plenty of material. Tliey had boarded Us before oiu- mooring Wncs were made fast. Thrilling yains, and, incidentally, thrilling lies also, appeared about our shi]) and our ex"[)criences at sea in the following day's issue of the yellow rags that wcvv tei'med Jiewspapers. Such lieadings as: "Thi'ce Days in 123 A WANDERER'S TRAIL Battle for Life ! " and: "Thrilling Tales of Distress at Sea ! " were quite modei'ate in comparison with some of them. Yellow journalism is in its prime in Honolulu. What a blend : yellow journalism and the tropical paradise of Captain Cook's time ! Aftei' I'cpairs had started it was arranged to sell in Honolulu as much of the cargo of flour as had been damaged by salt water. It was also decided to dispose of the greater part of the consign- ment of fresh fruit, which was now nearly ripe, as we calculated that a full month would elapse before the steamer could reach Vladivostock. By that time the fruit would all have perished. Before discharging any cargo, howevc]-, we had first to obtain by cable the pei'mission of the American authorities at Washing- ton, the reason for this being that we had loaded the cargo in American ports, and Honolulu being territory of the U.S.A. it was consequently against the regulations to land there any cargo or passengers. But in view of the peculiar circumstances, cable permission was soon forthcoming, and the discharge of the cargo took place. At this port, as in America, the same immigration regula- tions were in force regarding the entry of Asiatics. I was consequently on night watch to pi-event any of the crew ab- sconding, though the risk of this was not so great as when in America since the ship lay at anchor in the bay, there being practically no wharf accommodation at all in Honolulu. Being on night watch I had consequently the day to myself. After a sleep till noon I used to spend most of my time ashoi-c, visiting some of the pretty spots in the island. Tiirough the judicious disposal of a few old clothes to a Kanaka boatmaii I was able to j'aise a few dollars, which was the ojily money in my ])ossession, as I was vmfortunately not in receipt of any wages on board the steamer ; I was merely working my passage. ludispctisable as Western iirtun'ations undoubtedly are, they certainly seemed out of ])laee in the island^ of Hawaii, ^fy fertile imagination, fed on stories of C!a})tain Cook, had eonjui'cd up lovely scenes of dusky maidens sitting under palm-trees waiting for eo(;oanuts to f;i,]l, etc. Instead of these I fouiul tramears, 124 .,-.„-,.:a i\' il r 1 1 A STORMY VOYAGE ACROSS THE PACIFIC yellow newspapers and Japanese coolies. Japanese coolies seemed to be more nmiierous in these islands than anybody else, barring the aborigine Kanaka, who, however, is fast dying out. It suggests an amusing, not to say peculiar, situation in the event of war breaking out between the owners of the island, the Americans, and the chief inhabitants, the Japanese. Doubtless these latter take more than neighbourl3' interest in the im})rovcments that are being effected in the fortifications at Pearl Harbour in Oahu Island. In fact it was rumoured, though I cannot confirm it, that the Japanese objected to certain material being used by the Americans in parts of these forts, because they, anticipating a more or less early "moving-in," did not consider it was the best material for the purpose ! Whilst I was making my daily prowls round the island our steamer was having a new steering gear put in, its broken boats Avere being repaired and the wrecked deckwork lenovated — all at the expense of that seemingly generous institution, Lloyd's ! The new steering gear that was put in at no expense to the ship only replaced one worn out and depreciated by wear ; not one wrecked by the " act of God." New boat-covers were supplied the ship to replace those lost whilst " in distress at sea." I had never seen them before the distress at sea ; but still ! I w^as sorry afterwards that I had not put in a claim for my old pair of dungarees that saw their last during " distress at sea." What a nice thing it is to be 100 A 1 at Lloyd's ! Just prior to our departure from Honolulu we had serious trouble with our Chinese crew. On our arrival we had reported to the authorities their mutinous behaviour at sea ; for this they had been " logged " a month's pay — -a very light punishment. The Orientals on the other hand had alleged to their Consul cruelty on our part ; but their allegations were disregaixled. Daily affrays occurred, and one incident, for which I unfortun- ately was responsible, brouglit matters to a head. The mess-room boy omitted to call me at noon (after my night watch), and on my reprimanding him for his neglect became cheeky, whereupon I rather hastily ejected him from the mess-room with my boot. 125 A WANDERER'S TRAIL The Chinaman picked up a laiiic and dui'ing the seuffle that ensued he got a few nasty knocks and I a i-ippcd-0])en coat. This incident, tJiough triliiiig and not unusual, was unfortunately witnessed by a Kanaka boatman, who informed some of the Yankee i-e])ortei\s ashore. Next day wc read sensational headings in the Yellow Pj-css : "" Shocking Affray on Boaid the Santolo — CJiinese Consul going on Board to investigate Alleged Cruelty ! " and so on. The latter ])ai't of this heading was ap])arently correct, for the Chinese CojlsuI ditl put in an appearance the following morning. I went ashoie ! On investigation the Consul I'emarked to the captain that he was sorry that only two-inch rubber packing liad been used (one of the crew's allegations was that they had been struck by the oflieers and cjigineers with rubber })aeking) instead of four-inch. With regard to the incident with which 1 was concerned the captain infoiincd the Consul of the facts of the case. The mess-room boy also had no ])igtail ! That was enough ! I was fully exonei'ated, the Consul remarking, after havijig scuttled my accuser from the cabin : " He fully deserved all he got ! " As though the troubles of the old tram]) weie not yet sulheient, we were delayed by the United States authorities seizing the steamer on tlie eve of de])arture pending the .settlement of a suit brought against her by a former dismissed engineei- claiming foi- unpaid Avages. The lirst intimation I ol)taiued of this wa,s by linding on my leturn fiom shoi'c a deputy ])ati'()lling the decks, and o])serving a small riotiee ])in]U'd on to tlu^ mainmast inform- ing all ])ersons to the effect that anyone fouiid taking away any ])art of the Sant'do would be !ial)le to the U.S.A., etc. Beyond Avondei'ing who would be so foolish as to ^vaste his \ ime in taking away any ))art of that old tram]) 'he mattei' woiried me little. The ease was tried and the N'eidict ^vas gi\c'ri in faA'our of the shi]); but theeaplain was adx iscd to set He the luatler by]);iying up to avoid fuithei' delay. The matter was eloped bva j^aytneirfc of two hundic-d aud lil'ty dollars. The ])ayiueiit of this siiui of money, together with the cost of the shi]> being detained for two extia da\'s, must Imw aiuouided to ncaily one hundred pounds. Tib A STOIOIY VOYAGi: ACROSS THE PACIFIC Even to-day I cannot quite refrain from a sardonic chuckle when I picture the owners' faces on receiving, instead of the terrible news '"'' Santolo reported missing," only a pile of bills ! Noon of the 18th January saw the Saiitolo sail proudly out of the harbour of Honolulu ; and half-an-hour after noon saw the old tramp again broken down ! The pilot had just left us when the second engineer came on the bridge with the unwelcome information that the engines of the steamer (100 A 1 at Lloyd's !) were disabled ; and, incidentally, that the chief engineer was lying drunk in his cabin ! I could not but feel soj'ry for the young captain on this first connnand of his having such innumerable troubles ; they were enough indeed to try a far more experienced man. But the German sailor is no chicken-hearted type of mail and our young captain was no exception. Then and there lie disrated the drimken engineer, promoting the second engineer to the position of chief. After a period of six houj-s lying anchored just outside the harbour the engines were repaired and we set oiir course north-west. Just one more untoward incident occurred before we had seen the last of the islands. Whilst heaving up the anchor the flukes dropped overboard, the connecting pin having parted consumed by the rust of years. Had not the ship been sold to the Japanese (a nice, new, skilfully disguised icoodcn pair of flukes being substituted), Lloyd's, doubtless, would have been generous enough to supply us with a new anchor ! ]\rerc trifles such as this we noAV legarded as of no impor- tance. ^Ve were quite prepaicd to see the funnel roll over- l)Ourd. In J'act, during tliis second ])art of the voyage we were compelled daily to tighten u}) the stays that supported the sJiioke -stack. We kei)t fair weatlier \vith us till four days after leaving the islands, when, getting into moi'c nortlicj'ly latitudes, signs of apj)roaehing bad weather were soon visi])k'. After one strong soutli-cast gale had Ijattered us about we decided to sneak away south again. Our course ^vns changed to west by south. The Jicw steering gear that had been ])ut in was now the somec of fresh anxiet}" ; for, being new and consequently strong, 127 A WANDERER'S TRAIL it threw an ususual and extra strain on the sheaves amidships which, we found to our dismay, w'cre being slowly dragged from out of the decks. Lashings were consequently fastened to prevent this happening and one by one the old bolts were taken out and replaced by new ones. The old bolts, once seven-eighths of an inch, were worn and rusted in their centre to less than three- eighths of an inch ! And yet the Santolo was 100 A 1 at Lloyd's ! Once more the ship's decks were littered with lashings. The j-unning bridge w^liich connected the amidship-quarters with the poop — over the aft' well deck — had to be lashed securely to the ship's side, as the seas that continually struck it were slowly forcing it from its supports. At night-time, particularly on dark nights, it was just about as nmch as one could do to cover the length of the decks without breaking one's neck over the blocks and tackles that lay here, there, and everywhere. About the only parts that were not lashed were the two sides of the steamer. Steaming south and west we ran again into more moderate weather. A week out from Honolulu we were delayed for a few more hours, our engines again breaking down. But what were a few hours to us already weeks late ? The day following — the 26th — ^my diary reads: "Did not live to-day; crossed the 180° meridian ! " ^ During the three following days we I'an again into extremely bad 'weather, a sci-ies of gales and violent squalls coming up from all directions to meet the ship. On the 29th we were hove to for nearly twelve hours ; our log for that day registered under ni]rety miles. We were " staiiding by " most of that night, as we feared that at any moment something would carry away, or lliat one of the hatches would be stove in under the onslaught of the tremendous seas that struck the ship. At daybreak the bleak a]ul awful expanse of J'aging seas that met our eyes, the Diountainous waves at which we would gaze u]), each appearing as though it would break clear over the shi]), struck a chill in ^ i8o' I'2. is twelve liours aliead of Greenwich time ; i8o° W. is twelve hours behinch irencc, from iSo" K. to i8o° W. the time will be ahead t\s'eiity-four iiuurs — one complete day. 128 A STOIIMY VOYAGP: ACROSS THE PACIFIC all our hearts. We remained hove to all that day. When the groaning and ereaking of beams and stanchions would sound more ominously than usual in our eai-s, as the ship was riding some of those tremendous seas, the thought that the old tramp might at any moment break hci- back flashed through our minds. But the Santolo behaved splendidly ; she was indeed a credit to her builders. Though nearly three decades old, she was a far better sea-boat than some of the thin-plated tramps designed to-day. Good material was used in the building of the old Santolo ; any Meak spot would soon have been discovered in the weather she buttled with for days on end during that voyage. Just before dark we passed the U.S.A. transport Thomas, eastward bound. She was also, we could see from our decks, labouring heavily in the seas and making but poor progress. Towards evening the gale seemed to culminate in one squall of terrific f ui'y. For ten minutes the wind blew with huri-icanc force ; torrential rains swept the decks ; vivid lightning flashed and heavy biu'sts of thunder crashed. It then ceased almost suddenly, and the glass rose perceptibly. SloAvly the Santolo struggled on, daily battered by storms and gales, though we kept as far south as avc could. Our poor progress now began to raise in our mijids the sickening thought that wc might run short of coal before Ave could reach Japan — the nearest land. This thought gi'owing, we experimented with sacks of flour mixed with cinders to sec if we could save our coal ; but the result was not promising. On the 5th of Februaiy wc fourid ourselves six liundred miles from Yokohama and eight hundred juiles from ^luroran, the latter port being a small coaling place in the nortl) island of Japan, where the steamer liad arranged to bunker. We Avere in a regular quandary. If such weathei' continued and we made no better progress than we had iji the last ten days, we had barely sufficient coal in om- bunkers to reach Yokohama. And to go into juoi-e northerly latitudes ^vith the chance of encountering even worse weather to Muroran, some two hundred miles farther off, seemed mad- ness. Yet to go to Yokohama was a course the captain Avas I 129 A WANDERER'S TRAIL naturally loth to adopt, for there the price of coal would be considerably higher as he had no contract ; and it was also much out of our direction. At this juncture the captain fell ill and the mate took command. For a day or two we postponed our decision and kept on our southerly course. The weather seemed to grow even worse. Driving gales and storms came up to meet us from every quarter. In fact, witliin forty-eight hours a full cyclonic movement of the wind would be completed. The movement would start with a gale from the south-west ; the wind would then veer round to the noith, from whence it would blow hard. Blowing itself out in this direction it would then shift to the eastward and blow hard from the north-east. A few hours afterwards it would be round again in the south. This is an extract from my diary for the 3rd February : " Wind S.E., moderate gale with high seas. In the afternoon watch — high confused sea running ; heavy rainfall, with squalls almost of hurricane force. Stormy night — ' hove to ' all night from noon." This w^as nearly a typical day's entry in the ship's log since we left Honolulu. It is hard to convey in a few words a description of the bad weather that we had daily w'ith us then. In no other ocean — M'hether in the North Atlantic in mid- winter or in a heavy monsoon in the China Seas — have I ever experienced such terrific weather as we met in that winter of 1907-1908 in the Pacific. ^ I relate just one instance which may convey a slight idea of the force and height of some of the seas that swept the heavily laden steamer. A big sea struck us on our starboard quai'ter. It swept the bridge ; hurled both the quartermaster at the wheel and myself to the deck which foi- nearly five minutes was running a foot in water ; and ha if -wrecked the wheel-house smashing the windows to fiTigments. On tlie 8th we liud seventy-five tons of coal left, barely four days' steaming power, and Ave were four hundred miles from Muroran, and lialf tliat distance from Yokohama. As the weather seemed elianging slightly for tlie better we decided ^o risk it ; ^ It lb Oil record that this v/mlcr \',ds the wcrsi ior twenty-five years. I JO A STORMY VOYAGE ACROSS THE PACIFIC and our course was changed to north-west by north. We were hoping against hope that when under the lee of the Japanese coast we should be more sheltered and make better progress. This was fortunately the case ; for in the afternoon of the day following our change of course we sighted in the distance the snow-clad hills of Japan— a very welcome sight ! Steaming north and west the weather grew very cold, the north wind being keen and piercing. Towards night it grew colder still, snow and sleet squalls blinding us on watch. To be on watch in the tropics is a very different matter to pacing a snow-covered bridge with an icy wind piercing one's vitals, when ropes and rigging are frozen stiff and the decks covered with icicles. Skirting the shelteriiig coast of Japan we entered the Straits of Hakodate early on the morning of the 10th, and anchored off the port of ]\Iuroran shortly afterwards. We had on our arrival less than twenty tons of coal in the bunkers. Had it not been that we had experienced comparatively good weather since sight- ing the shores of Japan, I fear to contemplate the position in which we should have found ourselves — adrift in those seas ! The voyage from Ladysmith to Muroran had taken us a period of exactly fifty days, instead of the nineteen days estimated when we started the northern passage. It had brought to all of us one series of incessant troubles and privation and had been to me as startling as the preceding trip round South America had been uneventful. I think I saw more in that one trip than if I had been going to sea steadily for a period of seven years. As may be imagined it was not without a feeling of regret that I said auf zviedersehen to the old ship and my shipmates. When I saw the last of the old Santolo fading in the distance I did feel proud of her, of the gallant way she had battled storms and gales for weeks, and had won through the long series of disasters that had befallen her. With the good wishes of my late companions I set my feet on Japan's hospitable shores on the 11th of February. I liad three shillings in my pocket. 131 CHAPTER X IMPRESSIONS ()]• JAPAN AND TIIK JAF'ANESE BMFORK ihe Santolo's avnxixX at the sliores of Japan I IkuI p]aiincd in saiiguiiic moments to walk to Sapporo, a town in the centre of Hokkaido — about seventy miles or so north of ~Muroj-an. Here I reTnembeved that a Japanese f I'iend of mine whom I had known well in London was stationed. The sio'ht, however, of three or four feet of snow on the grouiid when I left the ship I'ather damped my ardour, to say nothino- of my feet ; but the sight of telephones was a considerable I'clief, and made me gratefid for once to the inroads of Western civilisation in Japan. I telc])honed my fi'iend to bori'ow ten yen to enable me to get to Tokio. \vhei'e I counted on a few pounds awaiting ]ue (Christmas letters being due). As I expected, my sympathetic friend did foi- me all that I asked and instructed the branch ollice from whei'e I was tele})honingto advance me what I needed for my ex])enses south. The courteous jigcjit at Muroran could not do enough for me. Hesides providing me Avith the funds I requiied against my I.O.U., he set himself out to entertain me most royally during my short stay ; and I snw in his com])nny the little town of ^Nfuroran. whei-e I gained some of my first ])leasaiit iiii])i'essions of Jaj>an and of Ja})aiiese hos})italit\'. \A'ith him I ate my lirst Japanese dinnei-. At this first dinner of iiiiju; I made a, distincf jauir ])as\ if that ex])ression really rightly (lescril)es it. I must lirst meiifioii that for most of the time whilst on the Saidolo I had been in ihe habit of wearing 1 wo ])airs of socks under ni\- sea-boots, wjiich let in the water rathei- badly. These four socks which F would pick up hap- liazai'd - genei'ally in Ihe dai'k— -were all more or less of different IMPRESSIONS OF JAPAN— THE JAPANESE colour. On leaving" the steamer I considered, as tliere was so nuich snow on the ground, that my sea-boots would be the very things to wear ; but when donning them I forgot to substitute a decent pair of socks for the Santolo pairs. Without any misgivings then as to the correctness of my gai'b I sailed gaily off to my Japanese dinnei'. The universal custom in Japan, as no doubt my j-eader knows, demands that one takes off one's shoes before entering the house to avoid soiling tlie delicate tatami. Of this I was not then aware, o]- had forgotten — I canTiot quite recall now. On my arrival, anyway, my Japanese host informed me of his country's custom in this ]'cgard. Tr was not till I began tugging off one of my heavy sea- boots that the first misgivings shot through me as to whether my socks wei'C de rigueur or not. The fii'st sock or socks appeared. They would have just about passed in a crowd with a series of discreet movements, but I had inward qualms that the other ones would not so successfully pass muster. Alas ! my fears were only too true ! For when those socks appeared to light, not only were they of a different colour and texture, but also iuuch of the texture of the socks was not there ! I felt slightly foolish, to say the least ; though I manfully cjideavoured to maintain my composure and sense of dignity, which was hard to do with those socks, or parts of them at least, staring me in the face. I endeavoured further to insimiate that it was a hobby of mine to appear thus shod. But the effort seemed to fall somewhat flat ; my Japanese host, to put it mildly, appeared sceptical. I avoided throughout the dinner any unseemly display of those sea-socks, and they in no way inter- fered with my enjoyment of that very pleasant evening — my fu'st in Japan. Many things in this part of Japan struck me then as very quaint, Western civilisation having but slightly altered the conditions of life. I was fortunate in obtaining here, just on my entry to the country, a glimpse of the old Japan which is so quickly passing away to give place to the Japan of the twentieth century. I always feel that visitors to Japan should try to enter 133 A WANDERER'S TRAIL the country anywhere but at the treaty ports in order to obtain true and accurate first impressions of the land they are visiting. First impressions mean so- much — at least to my mind — and for strangers to enter Japan at Kobe or Yokohama cannot but give them an untrue impression of the country. It would perhaps not be so bad if the visitor realised that fact and refrained from giving expression to distorted and crude impressions. Un- fortunately this is seldom done. Imagine a Chinaman dwelling in Limehouse writing his views of England ; the result would be about as edifying as is the average tourist's book on Japan. The first thing that struck me was the courtesy and cleanliness of the Japanese. Everyone, from the merchant to the sampan coolie, seemed the essence of courtesy^ — and, what is more, was so. As for their cleanliness, even the coolie took his two hot baths a day. The subservience of the women to the men was, too, very noticeable. Everybody, I observed, seemed to smoke, chiefly cigarettes and little pipes that hold a pinch of tobacco and after two puffs of smoke are fmished. The sound of the geta ^ on the hard frosty roads was continually causing me to turn round, thinking a horse was trotting behind me ; and the sight, too, of strong men and dainty women hopping over the ground was curious then. A twelve hours' passage across the Straits of Hakodate brought me to Aomori, a little port on the north coast of the island of Nippon. It was very cold and nmch snow was lying on the ground. All the shops and houses looked very quaint and picturesque in their white coats. My presence in this place attracted a considerable amount of curiosity, the appearance of foreigners in this part of Japan apparently being still an un- usual sight. Crowds of little toddlers followed me in bands ; they stopped if I stopped, moved on if I did. Even the grown-ups were nearly as bad as their little ones in this respect. There was, however, no hostile staring ; but Just the same curious sort of gaze that a gorilla walking down Regent Street would attract from those in the road. ' Japanese footwear. 134 IMPRESSIONS OF JAPAN -THE JAPANESE As the snow was very thick on the ground sleighs were in much use, my luggage being brought from the steamer to the railway station in one of these conveyances. The train for Tokio started at ten o'clock in the morning. The view one obtained as the train sped south was mostly of little groups of roofs half buried under the snow. We reached Sendai, a fairly large city, late in the evening. The journey was rather tiring as I was travelling on a slow train on which there were no sleeping cars. I managed, though, to snatch a few hours' sleep during the night, but was not sorry to leave the train on our arrival at Uyeno station — the Euston of Tokio. To be candid, my first impressions of Tokio were disappointing. It was not the capital's fault I'm sure ; they were due to the erroneous ideas and conceptions I had formed beforehand, my imagination having been fed on the false pictures drawn by writers of the couleiir de rose school. In Tokio I gained my living as an English teacher. The task of teaching English in Japan is not a very difficult one. It is, however, a rather tiring occupation. The one qualification necessary is tact. Discipline in Japanese schools is very lax. It is no exaggera- tion to say that the student virtually rules the school. His power is ridiculously great. Should a class dislike a teacher, they either boycott him, or they boldly proceed en masse to the scliool authorities and demand his dismissal. And the almost inevitable result is the teacher's dismissal ! To the authorities the only guarantee of the efficiency of a teacher is a full class-room. Needless to mention, I was an efTicient teacher ; for my class- room was always full. That is why I say the only qualification needed was tact. Though my experience was confined to only one term, I was able to gain a fair insight into Japanese educational methods, with which, to be frank, I was by no means impressed. So far as I could see, higher education in Japan meant nothing much more than the successful acquirement of a superficial smattering of iJ5 A WAXDEREll'S TRAIL knowledge. The Japanese universities and higher scliools are turning out yearly thousands of graduates in the shape of ignorant and sujierfieially trained young men. Few are younger than twenty-three, tlie bulk about twenty-six ; and more than one over thirty. Witli but few execptions all of them go to swell the I'anks of unskilled labour. The task the Japanese student has before him in order to graduate from any of the pi'incij)al imiversities and higher cdueational institutions is not so nuieh that of absorbing the necessary knowledge to pass out as that of memorisiyig the lleee^sal•y data. The foi'iner task is seldom aeeomplished ; the latter feat seems the only essential in the eyes of the Jajjanese edueational world. Whilst doing this the student dissipates five or more of his most valuable years — ^and health ! The sacrihec of health is enormous. The unhealthy appearance of the average student I met in Tokio, so often bespeetaeled at an early age, testifies only too faithfully to the truth that the youth of Japan is steadily burning the candle at both ends. The early deaths of so many of them, tlie steady deterioration in the nation's ])hysique, is. I think, mainly due to this high pressui'e of education, coupled with an insufficiency of nourishing food. In the Consci'iption Levy of 1911 three himdred and niiiety- seven recruits were rejected out of one thousand ; and only forty per cent, were })assed as physically fit. Consumption is increasing and the death-i-ate rising. This, then, is the toll modern education is demaiidiiig fi-om Japan, the true meaning of which she seem> to \v,i\q altogethci' lost sight of in her desiic to be up-to-date. Some extiaets from a letter I wrote to my brother fi'om Japan after some months' residence in Tokio may be of interest : "Saizoix Teiniple. TERAMAcni. Tokio. "15^/^ July 1908. " AIv DEAR I^RXEST. — Mv last cpistlc gavc you a detailed account nf mv ex]jci'iciic(s as a saik^r in a " coinn-^hi])." This 136 IMPRESSIONS OF JAPAN— THE JAPANESE one is to be an attempt to describe to you my life, my doings and my impressions in the land of tlie Rising Sun. "Firstly, as to my residences of which I have had a great number. I have tried most places, from a boarding-house in Kandabashi^ — tlie student quarter of Tokio- — at Yl.50 (3s.) per day, to a room over a greengrocer's shop, or its Japanese equi- valent, in the outskirts of the city at Yl.OO a day. This of course included food a la Japonnais — ever\i;liing, from stewed octopus to raw seaweed. All, however, were too expejisive for my frugal means, for I am saving to go to Korea and Manchuria. Hence my present abode — a Buddhist temple, which when all is said and done is as good a d\vclling as any in which I have yet laid my head. And iL is very peaceful. I pay thirteen yen a month, which being interpreted into English coin of the realm is 26s. This sum includes a Japanese breakfast {asameslii) and suppei- {bamaeshi). You may possibly conclude from this letter that I am by now a fluent Japanese scholar. Far from so ; but I have ;icquired just enough of the colloquial language to get about, and to make my extra stupid nesan (servant girl) understand the Jiecessity to take away my dij-ty linen to the wash instead of sending the few clean shirts I still possess. Some of the lower classes in Japan do not seem too richlyendowed with intelligeiice. "Well, here am I at the present moment writing you this lettei', seated like the Sultan of Turkey, or as near the uncomfortable position as I can get, in the back rooin of a Buddhist temple, facing a rather pretty little pond in which big goldfish are swimming about. I offendetl the old guardian of the temple yesterday by suggesting I woidd like one of those fine, fat fish fried for my breakfast. The sense of humour in some of the inhabitants of the land is not what you would call highly de- veloped. The old priest and I are great pals, none the less. I walk into the temple whenever I please, though of course I pay the same respect that I would to a church. The old chap reminds me of the smug parson at home — has a nice soft job and doesn.'t care whether it snows ! Buddhism in Japan to-day seems to me to stand in the same relation to the intellectual Japanese as ^37 A WANDERER'S TRAIL our modern dogmatic Christianity does to the intellectual public of the West. " I am giving up seeking for romance in Japan ! Only the re- sonant and sonorous boom of my temple bell bi-eaking on some of my solitary hours affects me sentimentally. It has a practical use, however, as it wakes me up in the early morning. Funeral ceremonies, too, now and then break on the quiet calm of my home. "Romance in Japan is a false alarm. Lafcadio Hearn in his books supplied himself the romance he attributed to this country from his own acutely sensitive imagination. All his beautifully tinted pictures were false ; and before he died he realised the fact. Fifty years ago there may have been lomance in Japan. I cannot find it to-day ; though I am always looking. Instead I find a hybrid land with a hybrid people. Always I am saying to myself now — I am born fifty years too late ! Everywhere I have yet gone I have met the one companion who is ever faithful — Disillusion ! Fancy coming to Japan for romance ! " If you came to this land to learn how to get rich quickly ; if you came to find beautiful spots desecrated by the ugliest specimens of twentieth-century ideals — advertisements !; if you came, I say, for such purposes, brother mine, then you will find what you seek — here ! "Cannot you imagine the despair and the almost murderous hatred that must be in the hearts of the old Japan-Japanese towards the West, when he sits and sadly gazes on what is — in the eyes of the West — the material progress of Japan, but in his eyes the slow decay of his country and of his countrymen ; the slow death of the nation's ideals and honour ; the slow passing away of the Japan of wliicli he was a part. I sometimes wonder whether Japan fifty years hence will not curse the day that she chose to become a first-class power and miserable and did not remain a sixth-class power and happy. But I suppose the change was inevitable. Evolution must go on. " lam now a Professor— we are all professors in this land — a teacher of English in one of the Tokio universities and in some i'.8 IMPRESSIONS OF JAPAN— THE JAPANESE of the schools. I am secretly rather proud of a letter I have just received addressed to Professor Arthur Ridger, Esq. That's me ! " To teach in Japanese schools you must not drop more than three ' h's ' in one sentence ; further, if your students do not want to work, or to learn English, you must on no account attempt to persuade them. To do so is a breach of etiquette, as they might get quite offended, which would mean an empty class-room, and incidentally the sack — a thing to be avoided. A master's position here rests on the verdicts of his students ! " I had at first some difficulty in getting a position owing to my arrival in the middle of a term, and I had only three pounds left between me and starvation when I obtained the billets I now hold. I received numerous promises amounting in salary to somewhere near a thousand yen a month. The jobs that materialised from these promises bring me in Y150 per month — a slight difference ! This is a great country for promises ! " I get on very well with all my students. They are very diligent and hard-working and extremely courteous ; but, poor devils, they are shockingly overworked. The whole country is educa- tion mad, and the teachers, system mad ! The schools are turning out thousands of crammed youths, crammed with unassimilated facts and data ; crammed youths, physically weakened and mentally stupefied ! This is what modern ' Education ' is doing for Japan : modern ' Education ' that Ruskin says, ' for the most part signifies giving people the faculty of thinking wi'ong on every conceivable subject of importance to them.' " I never attempt to ask the students to prepare any work for me beforehand. I only try, by interesting them, to get them to speak English as much as possible. As it is, the conversation of the class is generally limited to one or two of the clever students, the bulk remaining silent. "I teach in the mornings only ; and now and then in the evenings. My afternoons I spend in the dojo (wrestling hall) practising judo, or jujutsu, as it is more popularly known at home. I am still as keen as ever I was in London, for the exercise, 139 A WANDERER'S TRAIL apart from its other aspects, is so splendid. I am now the proud possessoi- of the browii belt. Olr ! that I were a black belt.^ "Duri]ig my unoeeiipied cveniiigs I pro^^■l round the streets and byways of Tokio, watching the goings-on and doings of the ))ees in the busy hive. One gets in this way a good insight into the inner life of a country. One learns thus more of the customs, ideas and sentiments of the inhabitants of this country in six moiiths than does the average resident in Yokohama in six years. ''I have visited Yokohama a few times. Beyond seeing the way the ' Tired Titans of Coimnei'ce ' — i.e. the residents of that treaty poit — spend tlieir time and money I have not seen nmch to attract me. It is a hybrid town : half-foreign and half- Japanese. It is on these poj-ts that the inane drivel you must have read in so jnany books is based by their authors. The Japanese, in my opinion, arc very unwise not to I'calise the harm done by these books. They still welcome them ; but they will learn ! •'I thought befo]-e I came to this country that every other woman was shameless. Having lived here six months I honestly think there is no more immorality in Japan than thei'e is in any other counti'y ; at least, I have not yet observed it if there is. Thci'c is, however, certainly fai' less mock-modesty in Japan than there is in the West. But that is a matter for comnuiidation rather than condemnation. This openness and lack of false shame is a good sign, and one that suggests a healthy mora! atmosphere. Another fallacy I have detected is tli;!i evei'v geisha is a woman of easy virtue. '• If you were to ask me what I thought of the Jajiancsc I could not for the life of me tell you. At eleven in the jnorning I might tell you ' Oh, splendid people ! " At noon I mighl say : ' Heavens ! don't ask me ! ' The country is sim])ly full of different types of peo])le ; it is impossible to gejieralisc. You will go along and meet a ehai'ining Japanese wlio will be so kind and sympathetic to you — -a young stranger in his laiid — that you ' ^eL■ Cluiplrr X I. 140 IMPRESSIONS OF JAPAN THE JAPANESE will feel ready to guarantee the nation. And you will then go another hundred yards and meet, perhaps, one of the worst types of Japanese the new regime has produced — and some of them are pretty bad ! To give you an instance of the latter : '"A little time back I called on one man, an English-speakijig Japanese and a teacher of some ability in a night-school, though his students were, I should imagine, chiefly of the 'rickshaw- coolie type. I approached him for a billet ; but all I could extract from him were his inflated ideas of his knowledge of English and of his importance in his own eyes. I let him go on for a little. He sho>ved me some awful doggerel he had written, thinking it poetry ; but when lie told me that he had a gi-eater acquaintance of English than had the average Britisher, I lost all patience — and then and there let rip all I thought of him and all I didn't. There are limits ! Between you and me I was half inclined to agree with him as regards his statement about loiowing more P^nglish than the average Britisher ; for we egregious English know more about football than the intricacies of our language. It was the poetry, however, that got on my nerves. I will give you two lines of it : one though will be more than enough ! ' To arms ! To arms ! The foemen come, The foemen come to make it hum ! - •' I might just add that I didn't get a billet in that school. "Thus, you see, life in Japan is such a mixture and so com})lex that you barely know yom- mind from one day's end to another. Still on the whole the Japanese are a very human and delightful jx'ople ; and, certainly, so far as I am concerned they Ijavc been evei'ything that is nice and kiiid to me. "Despite this, if ever I write about the Japanese, I will not deuionsti'atc my gratitude for kindnesses received by donning the cloak of Ananias, by lavishing fulsome flattery on their heads and by magnifying theij- vii'tues. I will pen what I think is the ti'uth : and by so doing I shall accomplish some little good — if only by preventing the inevitable disappointment that awaits the visitor, who for the most })art imagines Japan to be a 141 A WANDERER'S TRAIL fairyland peopled by a race of demigods, instead of a very human land with a very human people. No country has been more lied about than Japan ! " That the Japanese are a patient and long-suffering people you would not doubt for a moment if you saw the awful state of overcrowding that daily goes on in the trams of Tokio. I really think that the directors of the tram company must be fossils of the Shogun Age. Day after day, month after month, the same disgraceful state of affairs goes on— a discredit to a large city like Tokio. Trams, mostly the size of hen-roosts, pass by one crowded from the front to the back with people hanging on to the rails by tlieir eyebrows, always leaving behind a little group of weary souls whij eventually give up hope and plod home on foot ; or, if they can afford it, by 'rickshaw. But money is not so plentiful to-day in this land of depression and taxes ! The patience of the crowded-up passengers and the smiling courtesy and long-sufferance of the little conductor, as he collects the fares, are so admirable ! If I were one of them it would not be long before I engineered a strike and got those obsolete fossil- headed directors out of their fat jobs. But the worm will turn yet ! God help Japan when it does ; for she will need help ! Bureaucracy and Imperialism ^ are being overdone ; and when the pendulum starts to swing back there will be trouble. "A newspaper here has paid me £lO for the extract of my diary from London to Tokio, and they are writing up a serial story of which I'm the hero. It swells my little capital, as also my head. The former now amounts to five hundred yen — I don't convert it into pounds as it sounds more in yen. I have not earned quite all of it, for a sporting birthday present from Mr T has helped to swell it to the huge proportions it has now attained. It's to take me to Korea and Manchuria. "A little time ago I passed the newspaper ofhce, where I saw the hrst issue of the serial story they are making out of my diary exhibited on the placard outside. ^ly photograph was there also. Quite a little crowd of admiring Japanese was around. I ' See Chapter XL By Imperialism I mean Emperor-worship 142 IMPRESSIONS OF JAPAN— THE JAPANESE looked at the paper — it was in Japanese so I couldn't read it — and I looked at the people. Then in an awed whisper to myself I said : ' Here is fame at last ! ' Having reached in my mind the point where there seemed nothing much more worth living for, a sympathetic friend informed me of the contents. There- upon I fled and hid my face for shame. Out of the brief extracts of my diary concerning my departure, which consisted of the date I left England and of the date that I arrived at St Vincent Island, the reporter had written three columns, contain- ing everything from my sobbing in the arms of the captain on leaving home to falling overboard and swallowing a shark, or the shark swallowing me, I forget w^hich. I have practised judo from then even more steadily than before ; for I am looking for that reporter. " I have received one or two letters from young Japanese from various parts of the country as a result of these newspaper articles. One of these letters informed me that the writer felt himself inspired by the account of my thrilling doings, and suggested that I should take him with me. It was rather an amusing request seeing how I am situated ; but, poor youngster, I fully sxinpathised with him, knowing myself full well what wanderlust will make you do. " Strange to say I have not yet felt one earthquake since I have been in Japan. The country is not living up to its reputation. It may be, however, that I sleep through them. " WTiat can you make of all this, brother mine ? "Arthur." The last question in my letter I ask my reader also, with the hope that he may have gleaned a glimpse of my doings whilst in the capital. At the end of the summer term 1 resigned my positions. Before starting again on ray wanderings I spent a fortnight at Hayama, where I bathed and boated to my heart's content. I could vn-ito a chapter on those two vreeks : on my wanderings in the Io\-ely country round Kamakura just clad in boft kimona ; 143 A AVAXDERER'S TRAIL on my swims and sailing trips in and out of the inlets and bays. That fortnight of simple life did refresh me after the trying humid heat of the Tokio simimer. It was the end of July when I left Tokio bound for fresh woods and pastures new. ^ly capital was just fifty pounds. As many able writci's have de])icted the sights and scenes to be witnessed in Kyoto and O^aka. I will pass quickly on to Kobe where I caught an inland sea steamer for Moji. After the rains the country was looking vciy soft and gi'cen. Between Tokio and Osaka we encircled the foot of the sacred mountain Fuji Saa, its snow-ci-ested sunnnit shiniiig white in the sun's rays. I was the only foreigner on board the Japanese steamer bound for 3Ioji, but I was surprised to hnd so many of the officers on board had a working knowledge of English. Taken on the whole, I think the Japanese are to be sincerely praised for the effoi'ts they have made and their com])arativc success in comnumicating with the English-spcakijig West. I will not tell my reader that they are marvellous linguists, for they a;'e not ; but m comparison with us Englisji, whose linguistic talents are all but atrophied from disuse, they are. The officers were all exti'cmely courteous ; and this I have always found to be the case on every steamei', whether a coal tramp or linci'. llyii^g the pretty mercantile flag of Japan. On the other hand I must confess that I have observed a I'ather too lax state of discipline on many Ja])anese steamers, the quarter- mastei- at the \\hecl in Dumy iiistaneos a])parent]\- nf)t thinking it out of ])laee to join in a eoii\'(M'--ation that may be going on bet\\een tlic captain and one oi' his ofiicers. Tlie fault, of course, lies witli the offiecis. I ha^c- n(/lieed also, that though the Japanese ollieei' is an excel lent navigator and a. eompetcnit sailor he is too often inclined to be careless.' The steamer stopped at the many small jjlaces that litter the shoi'e-> of tlie Inland Sea -|)laecs tourists ne\(_'r see. travelling as thev inevitably do in the big ]inc-r> that steani. tluough these ^vatel■s without a sto]> at seventeen kjiols an hf)nr. The weather ^ \\'licu uJi lac cucisl ui Kurca i iiad a ^Arikin^ conln-mation of this view. M4 JaI'.W aw I-'E'IE 'I'm:-: i \ i \\ i i m. \ IMPRESSIONS OF JAPAN— THE JAPANESE Avas pcii'ect, being hot and sunny ; and the miniature scenery of the coast-land was indeed picturesque. It looked its best in the warm hght of the sun. Picturesque, however, as is the scenery throughout tlie Inland Sea, to say that it is the prettiest in the world is to my mind absolutely incorrect. I suppose we must thank some of those hysterical enthusiasts, who sprouted up like mushrooms in the wake of Japan's success over Russia and who even attributed to the Japanese a power wholly to abrogate natural laws, for the extravagant panegyi'ics on the beauty of the Inland Sea.^ At daybreak on the last day of July we anchored off Moji. Moji is essentially a coaling port, yearly growing in importance. Facing Moji is the .own of Shimonoseki, the scene of the first foreign treaty with Japan. Many deep-sea steamers, coasting craft and fishing boats lay in the channel as we anchored. The steamers were being coaled. The method of coaling employed is very simple, but yet effective, thanks to the cheapness of labour. Coal, at the rate of thousands of tons a day, is poured into the bunkers of a big liner by the simple process of tiers of men and women passing up, hand over hand, small baskets of coal. It is as picturesque as interesting a sight to watch a large mail steamer being thus coaled. I made but a short stay in Moji, and on the following evening embarked on one of the Osaka Sliosen Kaisha steamers for Korea. I boarded the boat some hours before she sailed and watched her finishing the loading of her cargo, the bulk of which was Japanese bazaar goods. Japanese cigarettes were con- spicuous. A twelve hours' passage across the Tsushima Straits landed me on the coast of the mainland of Korea. ^ I would rather my reader said, if Fate is kind enougli to give him the opportunity of seeing the Inland Sea : " It is far more beautiful than I was led to think." I was unfortunately compelled to say : " Lt is not a tenth as beautiful as I was led to think." 145 CHAPTER XI AN IMPRESSION OF JAPANESE SPORTS I RECALL a Rugby football match in Tokio. It was between the team of Keio University and a " fifteen " from Yokohama, made up of young business men, mostly Englislimcn. The Yokohama team, it is almost unnecessary to say, wc]e quite untrained, as the life led by the average business man in tlie treaty ports of Japan is hardly conducive to keeping fit. The Keio team, on the other liand, were as hard as nails from constant practice, and the majority of them also were either rowing or judo men. The result, nevertheless, was a win for the \Tsiting team. The cause of this, apart from the fact that the Japanese are still more or less tyros at tlie game, was over-cautiousness. I can recall sucii a number of openings lost, such a number of opportunities of scoring missed, by the over-cautiousness of the Keio tean:). Their "threes," comparatively well fed by their "halves," seemed to be possessed of but one idea — of finding touch directly they got the bah. None of them evci' attempted a dash for the goal line, and tliey seldom ran straight o^- gave their '" wings " a sporting ch.anee to do something. They could not see that offensive tactics arc the best defence. At the outset of the game tlie Japanese team settled down to play a losing game, the ordei' of the day ap])arently being " risk nothing, only ti'y to keep tliera out of your ' t\veiity-li\'e.' " The same spirit, if one may judge from accounts of observers, was apparent in the recent war. Rugby football is, notwithstanding, innkiiig headway in Tokio; but I fear that until tlie .J.'ipanese ])layor learns that he must use his head as well as his feet the Yokohama "fifteen," 146 AN IMPRESSION OF JAPANESE SPORTS untrained and unfit as it must always be, will never have much difficulty in defeating the best team Tokio can produce. Baseball is, perhaps, the most popular foreign game amongst the young of Japan to-day. Judging from results the Japanese seem to have a special aptitude for it, as many of the American and Hawaiian teams that have visited Japan have been defeated by the various school and university teams of Tokio. The Japanese, besides having thoroughly mastered the rudi- ments of this American game, have, further, well assimilated the American system of college yells and " rooting." To-day the technical terms of football as well as baseball come very pat from the mouths of both players and spectators. The Rugby phrases, "not straight," "picked out," "offside," etc., fall as glibly from the mouths of a Japanese " fifteen " and its supporters as from those of an English team and crowd at Blacklieath. Tennis, too, is very popular in Japan to-day. I was leather sui'priscd, however, to find that it needed almost a Herculean effort to knock the balls out of the court. This is due to the fact that the regulation ball is but seldom used, a thin rubber one being used instead. Rowing is also popular amongst Japanese students, and many keen contests take place on the pretty Sumida River of which Tokio is justly proud. Unfortunately the result of keen contests is often a free fight. It seems a g^-cat pity that fi-iction should enter into play in Japan. Rioting occurs very frequently after a big game in Tokio. Indeed, to such a degree lias the bad feeling between two of tiie leading universities in Tokio gi-own that the authorities have been compelled to put a stop to matches, or contests of any description, between them to avoid bad blood, fi'ee fights and general rioting. This unsportsmanlike spirit is to l^e regretted ; but I am in- clined to think that it is only of a temporary Jiatnre. Japanese sense of fair play is by no means deficient,, as is clearly seen in the playing of their own national games ; for no people could be more scrupulously honourable than the Japanese in tliese circumstances. The rather unsportsmanlike spirit noticeable 147 A \vandp:rer's trail iji the playing of foreign games is, I think, due to the incoiyiplete assimilatio]! of the new with tlie spirit of the old. Everywhere in Japan, and in To lei o })artieularly, an observant resident can see illustrations of the transition stage through which the country is passing. The Avorst enemy of Japan could not deny that the Japanese, from the aristocrat to the coolie, are a very courteous race, and innately, not superficially so, as is sometimes suggested. I am referring, of eoui-se, to the polite- ness of one Japanese to anothei-, and not to the attitude of a Ja])anese to a foi-cignei-. On moi-e than one occasion I have had the rather UTUisual privilege of living in the house of a Japanese family. Thei'e I have witnessed the extreme courtesy eveiy inember of the family extended to anothei', the courtesy with Avhieli the master of the house treated the 'rickshaw coolie, the courtesy of the little daughtci" to her playmate next door. Hcjicc, thougji I know that many do not hold the same opinion but consider the courtesy of the Japanese to be mainly super- ficial. I maintain that the Japanese are most courteous people, ]hit in a tramcar or in a train, foreign innovations, one sees quite a diffeitnit state of affairs and witnesses plenty of dis- coiutesy and rudeness. This in my mind is solely due to the incomplete l)lcnding of the s])irit of the old with the conditions of the new. Unfortvmately foi- Japaii the spots where the visitor and tourist obtain their impressions of Japan and of Japanese are where foi-eign innovations are most in evidence. Few re- sidents and still fewer visitors enjoy the privilege of dwelling in a Japanese gentleman's house as a guest, and it is really only froin the home life of a nation that true impressions can be formed. True Japanese sportsmanship can be seen in any of the national games, such as jujutsu (wrestling), kenjuisu (fencing), kiujuUu (archery). Also in sumo, another form of wi-estliiig moi-e ])opular amongst the lowei- clnsses. I have witnessed many competitions in these games, and have had many a bout at ju- jutsu ; and have only the greatest admiration for the honourable conduct displayed and for the spirit of fair play that prevailed. 148 A\ v.\'v.]<\:<\\ -I i:m-: in Iatax I \i' \\ \.-i. W' i\ii AN IMPRESSION OF JAPANESE SPORTS It is in these sports that one can see the true spirit of the Japanese sportsman. Judo is the modern and imjiroved jujutsu — the sport of the Samurai. Some twenty years ago a certain Dr Jigoro Kano, after having studied all the different forms of jujutsu in various parts of Japan, founded the Kodo-Kwan of Tokio, which is to-day, one might say, the university of judo. Kano's style of wrestling — i.e. judo — was the outcome. Dr Kano was recently decorated by the Emperor of Japan for his services to his country ; and no Japanese deserves greater honour. The Kodo-Kwan still adheres strictly to the old customs and etiquette of the Samurai age, and the degi-ees awarded to its members are hall-marks throughout the whole length of Japan of their skill in judo ; and, what is more important still, of their moral character. There are many degrees of excellence. Roughly speaking, there are three distinct classes, each class distinguished by a different coloured ohi or belt. The highest class is the yudansha class. Its members wear a black belt. This class has seven ranks, the highest being shichidan (+ 7). Of this rank there are only two or three in all Japan. Of the rank below — rokudan ( + 6) — there are not more than a dozen. The lower ranks in this class are godan (+ 5), yodan (+ 4), sandan (+ 3), nidan (+ 2). The lowest rank is shodan (+ 1). The one who has gained the rank of shodan is qualified to become a teacher. Twelve hundred would, I think, more than total all the holders of the black belt. The class below the rank of shodan is the muyudansha class, which is divided into two separate divisions, the members of each wearing a different coloured ohi. The higher class wear a brown ohi, the lower a white one. The muyudansha class, like the yudansha class, is divided into various ranks, the highest being ikkyu ( - 1), the lowest rokukyii (-6). When the student reaches the rank of sanyku (-3), he discards the white belt in favour of the brown and his name is then recorded on a small wooden tablet affixed to the walls of the wrestling hall, to remain there for the edification of posterity. I seem to remember a popular fallacy prevalent at home with 149 A WANDERER'S TRAIL regard to this wrestling — that every Japanese one meets is, more or less, a judo expert. This is totally incorrect. Till a student reaches the ijudansha class, or, in other words, till he gains the right to wear the black belt, he is no expert. Till he gains the black belt he is not even qualilicd to teach. Judo experts are as I'are in Japan as expert boxers ai'e in any Western nation. To acquire the skill necessa:y to become a teacher one needs lour oi' hve years of liard practice. There is no royal road, no short cut, to become a skilled jiijutsu wrestlei'. as many at home ^eem to think. Judo is no occult secret, though I NS'ould not infer that jndo has not its occult side. It has. The etiquette of the Kodo-Kwan is very strict. Students in Japanese clothes can never enter its doors unless wearing their hakama (di\'ided skirts). No student would dream of starting wi'e.^tling till lie had made his obeisance before the photograph of Dr Kano which hangs over the dais of the dojo ; nor would he be permitted to start wi'estling before he had bowed ceremoni- ously to his opponent. The greatest respect is paid to any of the yudansha class. On my joining the Kodo-Kwan I had to comply with an old Sanmrai ceremony of presenting two fans. I had also to sign my name in blood to a declaration to abide faithfully by the lules of the Kodo-Kwan and not to disclose an\i:hing I might learn within its walls. At fixed periods of the year shobus (tournaments) are licld, when pi'omf>tion is decided upon. Tlu- um]:)irc's decision is irre- vocable ; arc! I do not thi]ik tlure li^■(^> a student i)i all Ja])an who would di'cam of disputing a'ay decision. The spirit of bushido is seen at it> best within the walls of the Kodo-Kwan. Tlie judo-iiicncd Jaj)a]if*--e is Jiead and siioulde.s supei'ior. morallv. ])liy-ical]y and meritally to the fhit-chested, })e- s])eetac]ed. s])r)ity-face(l. weed\" t^i^e of youth \^ho talks glibly of economics and internationnl law and is being turned out in thousands by the schools and univeisitifs of Japan to-day. The ??f do-man is a man : but, alas ! he is scarce. I have met him abroad as a na\jgatoj'. as a soldiei', as a coloniser, and liave the 150 AN IMPRESSION OF JAPANESE SPORTS liig]iest respect for him. Would he were counted in his thousands instead of in liis tens. Japan needs more judo and less economics in the national training. I happened once to be on a Japanese coal tramp. On the ship was a young Japanese clerk. We had coal on the decks in abund- ance. I suggested an hour's shovelling coal every day to keep fit. He replied: "Ah, the principle is good but . . . etc." I shovelled coal ; he studied econoiiiics. I kept fit, he got jaundice. Exactly the same in life. We Britishei's may not be so pat in enunciating pi-inciples and theories, but we do keep fit. Japan's young men will quote you Stuart Mill for an hour and have chronic indigestion ! A rather startling fact came to my notice not long ago. One of the largest commercial houses in Japan lost the huge sum of nearly one million yen in one year through numerous em- bezzlements at their various branches. When it is further mentioned that this firm recruit all its employees from the highest educational institutions of the country, it should make the thoughtful person stop and ponder. The average clerk in Japan starts his career to-day full of ambition, and very properly so ; but too often imbued with the idea of getting on — honestly if he can. In the modern get-rich-quick atmosphere of Japan such a spirit, without the restraining influence of a " play the game " spirit, is a dangerous one to hold. Also the inadequate salary paid to the clerk, in no way commensurate with the ever- increasing expense of living, is another source of danger — an ever-present inducement for the yomigman to start speculation, his first step downwards. Healthy sport is one of the best sheet- anchors for the voimcf man — of the East or West. 151 CFIAPTER XI r SOME exp?:ktf.xc'ES in kokea I ENTERED Korea at Fusan, one of the principal seaports of the peninsuhi. Fiisan liarboui" is j-eally nothing more than a deep indentation in the coast-land, in the middle of which lies Deer Island. It is capacious, being about two miles wide, and with a sufficient depth of water to accommodate the largest vessels. Korea at the moment of my visit was ostensibly an independent kingdom, though under the protection of Japan; to-day, of course, it is an integral part of that country. On landing at Fusan I found the traffic on the railway between the port and the capital, Seoul, entirely suspended, as much of the ti-ack had been damaged by floods resulting from heavy rains. Korea yearly suffers great loss from floods^ — the inevitable result of the wholesale destruction of the forests. China suffers, too, in many parts from the same cause. Two plans lay before me : I could remain in Fusan for two or three days till the railway was in working oi'dei' again, or reach the ca])ital round the west coast on a small coasting steamer. The latter alternative, though entaili]ig a much longer journey, suited me veiy well, as the fare was much ('hen])er. I ^\'as ever in the position of having moj'c time than money. This j'oute also gave me the 0])])oi'tunity of visiting some of the small coast ports lying off the beaten track. So I booked a passage in one of the Osaka Shosen Kaisha's coasting steamers, as I had learnt by experience that where the O.S.K. Hag ilew I should lind comfoitable quarters and good attendance. We sailed on the same evening, skirting the south and south- western shoi'e-, ol Korea. Foi' the mo>t ])art the\- were fringed SOME EXPERIENCES IN KOREA with rocky islands and reefs, many of the former appearing quite uninhabited. In parts the scenery was very pretty, some of the islands being thickly clad with vegetation. We anchored off our first poil of call- — -jVIokpo^ — -late in the afternoon of the day following our departure. Mokpo is a small port on the river Yong San Gang, wliich waters the Cluilla district~-one of the wealthiest in Korea. The town was tj'pically Koiean. It was surrounded by the usual city wall and possessed its two settlements — that of the Koreans and that of the Japanese. The up-to-date and cleanly appearance of the latter struck me very forcibly in contrast with the former, in which the result of generations of corrupt rule was clearly seen. Save for a lady missionary I was the sole foreigner on board. This good lady was kind enough to teach me a few phrases of the Korean language. At this port I seized the opportunity of trymg the few words I had learnt, or thought I had, on some of the peasants I met in the fields outside the town. My salutations elicited, however, no response, apparently being perfectly unintelligible to them. Why I know not ! Unless it was my Korean was too haikara ^ for them, as the Japanese would say ; or else I murdered with true English linguistic stupidity the few phrases I had learnt. I drew blanks every time, till I gave up in disgust. At sundown we steamed a^^'ay, having discharged a few tons of cargo, chiefly Japanese bazaar goods. Another missionary- — a doctor — joined the ship at Mokpo ; so there were now three Europeans on board. My t^A'o coinpanions I found charming- people — much to my surprise ; for I had lived too long in Japan to escape the generally accepted opinion of the worth of a missionary. By daybreak on the next day we were anchored off Kunsan, situated at the mouth of the Yong Dang. It was at tliis port that tJie missionary doctor got off, and he very kindly invited me to visit his mission station whilst the ship was discharging. I 1 The origin of this word is " high-collar/' signifying fashionablCj smart, etc. The letter " 1 " is ever a stunibhng-block to tlie Orientah A WANDERER'S TRAIL gratefully accepted the invitation. Shortly after breakfast we made our way to the station which la}' a few miles outside the town. Each of us took turns in riding the slow and ancient Korean pony that had been sent down to meet us. We passed through the little town, whicli was a replica of Mokpo, and wended our way thiough paddy-iields till we reached the mission, which was situated on high giound overlooking the town. After a rest and a chat I went with the doctor to his hospital. Many Korean villager's of all t^-pes were awaiting the doctor's arrival^ — ■ patients who had come for treatment for every complaint, from a skin disease to a cyst on the eyelid. I watched the young doctor tending his charges. He was an indomitable worker, but withal a cheery one, the depressing atmosphere so often pre- valent in such places and in such surroundings being absent. Sympathy and good-will were there instead. After spending the day at the Kunsan Mission Station I bade farewell to the doctor and his family and rode the mission's ancient quadruped back to the ship. We sailed late in the after- noon for Chemulpho. AVe expected to reach this port within twenty-four hours. But 'Man proposed and God disposed, for before reaching this port we all but reached another— that of Davy Jones ! The steamer ran her nose at full speed on a rock — ^thanks to a tliick fog. A great element of carelessness, however, entered into this mishap. I had been with the captain in his chart-room when he was setting his course, and had noticed he calculated to pass the rocks on which we struck three miles abeam. He I'cmarked to me on what a strong set there was j'uniiing to the eastward off this coast ; in some cases, he said, as much as four knots an h.our. TJie knowledge of this fact, cou])led with a change in the weather, should have been enough to cause any careful iiavigator immedi- ately to put the ship off the shore so as to be certain that she would pass well wide of the land. Apparently, in this instance, no precautions were taken ; hence the result. Fortunately we only grazed the rocks. Had we been a few more Feet to stai'board we should have been a total wreck in a 154 SOME EXPERIENCES IN KOREA few minutes. As it was, the damage was limited to the ripping of a few plates. Tlie ship was immediately aiieliored and we waited for the clearing of the weather. The shock of the ship going aground nearly threw me out of my bunk ; it even woke me up. It also woke the Japanese captain ! Rather scantily clad I went on deck and found the crew swinging out the boats. The discipline and order could not have been better. The report that the ship was only making a few inches of water an hour soon convinced us that there was no immediate danger, as the pumps could easily keep such a small inflow in check. Day broke. It still remained foggy. As the morning grew the weather cleared, and by noon we were able to see our surround- ings and realise the narrowness of our escape. The ship lay between three large jagged rocks standing well out of the water. Had our steamer struck any of these full, her bows would have been stove in and she would have sank in a few minutes. AVhen the weather was sufficiently clear we weighed anchor and resumed our northerly course for Chemulpho. On our way we passed a capsized fishing boat, which at first sight looked like a dead whale adrift. The crew mistook it and were delighted, for to tow in a whale meant something in all their pockets. On the whale materialising into a capsized fishing boat their disgust was as great as their foi-mer jubilation. In the afternoon fog again compelled us to anchor. It was a rather strange phenomenon — -this heavy mist hanging ovei- the sea notwithstanding the fact that the warm sun was shining brightly over our heads. But this is not an unusual occurrence off the coast of Korea, the cause being the meeting of different currents of unequal temperatures. The seas here need very careful navigation and are rather dreaded, as the surveying is incomplete. The currents, also, are both strong and erratic. We reached Chemulpho by midnight after having stopped several times on account of fog. The captain was taking no more chances ! Only very light-draught ships can enter the inner anchorage ^55 A WANDERER'S TRAIL of this port owing to the enormous rise and fall of the tide ; the outer one, however, can accommodate ships of all sizes. A large barge towed by a tug lauded us in the morning, the ship lying about three miles outside. Chemulpho, or Jinscn as the Japanese call it. is the principal seaport of Koi-ea. It is also the port of the capital, lying on a small tributaiy of the Han, or Seoul River. In apj^earance Chemulpho is similar to the other ports in the south, though on a rather larger scale. Japanese enterprise was aljundantly in evidence, and nuist be still inore so to-day. I caught an early morning train to the cajjital passing through well-cultivated land. The soil was very red in a])pearance. Much of the land alongside the railway was very swampy. These swamps, I was told, bi'ought the Japanese engineers to grief when they were laying the railway. American engineers first surveyed the land and marked out the best route, bearing in their experienced minds the very possible danger of floods. When the Japanese engineers took ovev the ]:> reposition they thought they knew bettei- ; they discarded the well-chosen path selected by the former surveyors (who, they forgot, came from a country that knows nearly the lirst and last trick of the railway ti'ade), and they laid down the track on ground which certainly looked suited for the purpose. The result was })eriodieal demolitions of the track by flood. In the end tlie Japanese were ^vise enough to adopt the discarded route. ^^\ ])assed numerous small villages, sun'ouiided by fields of melons, or perha])s I sliould say melon ])atelu's, tliat being. I Miink. tlie recognised expi'cssion. Some oi' the inelon vines (?) wei'e even growing on tlie thatched roc^fs oj' the houses in the villages. A])pai-ently the various owneis of these " ])atches "" had ]\() great faith in human nature or in the honesty of their countr\'nien ; for I renuirk[' I . \\' iKv. \ \ M-J 'II. I\i iRi; A IMPRESSIONS OF THE JAPANESE REGIME immediately takeji a 'ricksha \\' to the newspaper olhce, that in his idea being the safest place. It was not long, however, befoi-e Mr Bethell and his editor were enlightened. A posse of Japanese police arrived on the scene and demanded the immediate delivei-y of the Korean into their custody as he had been released in error. Someone had blundered ! Mr Bethell flatly refused to hand Yang over. He raised the British flag over the doorway and told the police that they had better apply to the British Consul-General for permission to rearrest his editor. Application was consequently made by the Japanese Resident-General to Mr Cockburn for an order to arrest Yang on British territory. Needless to say, the Bj'itish Consul-General refused to comply with this lequest, for, apart from the fact of his foi-mer protests against the illegal arrest of the Korean having been totally disregarded, he was further cojivinced that no just cause could be shown for the man's arrest. The Consul then ref eri-ed the whole matter to the Foreign Office ivi London and at the same time advised the Japanese Residency- General that he would only act on instructions from home. As a result of the firm attitude taken up by Mr Cockburn the Japanese journalists in the peninsula commenced a campaign, presumably without official sanction, of wiring to newspapers in Japan grossly libellous and insulting messages about the British Consul-General. Puerile and ridiculous information was cabled to Japan to the effect that jMr Cockburn's attitude with regard to Yang was caused by the fact that he himself, as well as some of his staff, were implicated in the embezzlement of the Korean funds of the misappi'opi'iation of which Yang had been accused. Furthermore, local correspondents of Japanese news- papers disseminated discreditable and false repoiis concerning Mr Bethell. The feeling of the foreigners in Seoul at this moment was unanimous in condemning the attitude of the Japanese Resident-General as imdignified as dishonourable. I myself visited Yang after his escape, or juistaken release, and found him a moral and physical wreck. Having confirmed to my satisfaction the facts of the affaii-, I attempted to warn i(>5 A WANDERER'S TRAIL the Japanese in Japan of what was really going on in Seoul. To this end I wrote a long lettei- to The Japan Chronicle, one of the leading dailies there. It was duly published. Yang WPS finally delivei'ed up to the Japanese by ]\Ir Cockburn aeting on instiiietions from the Foreign Offiee in London, who, however, insisted l)erore he was handed over tliat the prisoner should be pro7)iptIy brought to tiial and be humanely treated. ])iiring the interval between tlic mistaken lelease of Yang and his return to the Japanese tlie Consul-Genei-al had been the subject of thegiossest slanders in the Japanese Press. When it is ]-emembei-ed that Mr Coekburn's attitude throughout the whole matter was thoroughly in harmony with the honourable traditions of the British Coiisular Service there is nothing sur- jn-ising in his open letter to Mr Bethell on tlie subject of the shameful libels in the Japanese Press. This letter was published throughout the Far East ; its concluding lines are worth repro- ducing : "... I think that you are entitled to a formal expression of ni}^ opinion, ^vhieh is that the mei-e fact of a statement being telegra})hed to Japan l)y a Japanese newspaper conespondent ought not to be considered as creating any presumption that thei-e is the slightest basis of truth in it." It needed something nioi-e than ordinary abuse to extract fi'om the icpresentative of the Bi'itish Government in Korea such a forcible expression of his opinion of the morality, or lack of it, of Ja])anese journalists, Yang's trial took place in the Chief Local Court of Seoul a short time after his delivery up to the Japanese; and the trial iesulted, as it only could, in the complete clearing of both IMr Yaug and Mr Bethell from the chai'ges which directly, or in- directly, had been ])referi'(^d against them. Yang was triumph- antly aef[uitted of the charge of eml)ezzlement of the National Debt Redem])tion Fund and was released, after tmdergoing for several weeks the terrible ex])ericnees of a Korean prison hi the i66 IMPRESSIONS OF THE JAPANESE REGIME heat of tlie summci-, foi' wliicli, however, no compensation oi- even apology was ever made to him. The wliole affair from the beginning to the end threw an ugly hght on the metliods of th(; Japanese administration in Korea ; and the Japanese Residency- General suffered matei-ially in reputation. It further illustrated how a lai'ge part of the Japanese Press was willing to publish any slanderous storj^ affecting those who might oppose Japanese domination in Korea. In the open court Yang received a fair trial ; but is it too much to say that the sight of five foreign consuls alone revived the dormant sense of Japanese justice in Korea in 1908 ? Much of the forepart of this chapter was written on the Af I'ican \Tld and I had hoped that when I returned to the East to be able to conclude the chapter by saying that the harsh spirit of the Japanese regime in Korea of 1908 was a thing of the past. To my regret I am imable to do so. Korea is still under railitary domination. "Conspiracies" and "trials" are still the order of the day. Yang lies rotting in prison ; and Japanese justice in Korea is still the same as it was in 1908 ! 167 CHAPTER XIV FROM KOREA THROUGH MANCHURIA THROUGH the courtesy of the editor of The Seoul Press I was granted a pass over the Korean railway, whicli runs to Wi ju from the capital through the north-eastern part of the counti'y and to the borders of 3Ianehuria. I caught the early morning train on the 21st August, bidding farewell to all those who had been so kind to me during juy short stay in Seoul. I also took with me one or two letters of introduction to residents up north. The train passed for the most part through low-lying ground, crops of millet and rice being much in evidence. Low ranges of hills lay on our right hand, bare, barren and almost entirely denuded of vegetation or timljer. In many cases just one tiee remained standing sadly in its lonehness — a silent witness to the folly of the Koreans. Korea in parts is pract":" lly deforested through the impi'ovidence of past generations, which ruthlessly cut down the trees without let or hindrance and without any attempt to replant districts denuded of timber. Under the control of the Japanese, however, steps are being takeri to reclaim great stj'ctelies of bare lands ; and I have heard that the Jaijanese House of Mitsui has secured extensive areas with this object in view. On our way north we passed over many empty livej'-beds wjiich, though then dry or nearly so, needed but twcnty-foui- oi' foriy-eight houi's of rain to be convert c-d i)ito swollen torrents, which inevitably swe])t away the primitive wooden bridges. All the soil was of a very reddisJi coloui', almost of a terra,-eotla shade, similai' to that I had ol^served in the region Ix'twecii C']u'nuil])ho and the ca])ital. !\[ueh gi'anite was lOcS FROM KOREA THROTTJT IMAXCIITnUA noticeable. A peculiar physical feature of this northern part of Korea impressed itself out my nieniory. On one side of the I'iver the bank was girdled with high hills which rose almost from the extreme edge, whilst on the opposite bank was low-lying ground; a mile or so down the river these conditions were revei'sed. We reached Pingyang — the ancient capital — late in the afternoon, the approach to this walled city being made over a wooden bridge which spanned the river. The ominous creaking and groaning of the timbers and trestles and the swaying of the bridge under the weight of the moving train were anything but reassurijig. I heaved a sigh of relief when we reached solid ground again. To-day an iron structure replaces that rickety bridge. It wa-:. exceedingly dusty round Pijigyang and one's eyes became very sore from the reddish dust which every gust of wind blew up in one's face. By ten o'clock in the evening we reached our journey's end at Wiju, which is situated on the Korean side of the River Yalu facing the town of Antung. I crossed the river that night — an undertaking far from pleasant, as it was blowing liard, miserably wet and very cold. So strong was the current that I sat in a sampan for over an hour while the coolies rowed me across. I spent thr-^.e days in all in Antung ; and very profitably too. Antung, or Antung-ken, as the Japanese term it, is the starting- point of the Antung-^NIukden railway. It is a t}7jically Chinese town, a faithful description of which, even if space perinitted, would be entirely beyond my powers. It is the Cliinesc poi't of customs for ^Manchuria, the customs i&ervice being, as is well known, under the control of foreigners — a part of the masterly system which owes its origin and development to the late Sir Robert Hart. The Japanese settlement in the towji was of no inconsiderable size. The influence of the Japanese was even then very notice- a})le. To-day it is all-powerful. I caught sight of some of the timber that played such an important role in the late war lying on the banks of the Yalu. The hrst evening in Antung I spent in a Japanese theatre. 169 A WANDERER'S TRAIL The plays staged wei'c most appealing and interesting, despite tlie fnet that I was not very familiar with the laiiguage. At tlie risk of wearying my readei; I will sketch ])rief!y the plots — l)oth from seenes of old Ja])an. The First act of 03ie ])lay de])ieted a bordei- quari-el between two dainiios and their respective '■etainers. The second act showed lis a })oor samurai wandering about the country unable to buy food for his motherless little child. He placed the child on the ])order of the two territories and left in quest of work. The last scene illustrated rather touehingly the manner in which the wife of each daimio nursed tlie child on alternate days. Eventually the child became the mediiun_ for a reconciliation between the two hostile chiefs, who. in the ( :.(!. became firm friends. Tlie apj)eal to the audience, nondescript as it was, was good and wliolesome. The second play demonstrated to what an extent a samurai would saci'ifice himsejf in the scr\icc of his lord. We were shown a samurai of high I'ank betrothed to the daughter of a neigli- boui'ing daimio who was, Iiowever, a deadly enemy to the samurai's liege. This latter sent our heio to spy on the enemy's cam]). The last scene ^ho^^•ed us tlie samurai cai'rying out his purpose, though it meant tlie denial and the abandonment of his betrothed in orde;' to accomplish his lord's will. Tlie second evening in Antimg was s])ent in a " nmsic hall " ; and I am not exaggei'ating v,-he]i I say that I saw thei'c as skilled ])erforiners a>nd as excellent "" tuiJi^ " as I have ever witnessed at the Tivoli oi' the l^u'ilion in London. The ])rogj'annne was excellent. It included '' tuiiis "' of juggiei's. conjurers, trick- cyclists and a most uncanny mesmerist ^^■]lo ahnost gave one the ciee])s. TJie ixsloiiuers wcic all (liincse and Japanese. The distance Irom Aiitung lo ^fukdeii is only one liundi'ed and eiglity-eighl miles, and the faet thai it then took two days to accom])lisJi tliis jonrney ^vas tin' best argument in fa\"Our of a s])c('dy change of gau^e. 1 had I lie gocid foiiime lO make this joui'iiev belore ttic iiaii'ow-gauge line constructed during the ^va^ was discai'ded in ra\'oui' oi' a bi'oa.d-trauu'e track. I sav (I'ood FROM KOKFA THROT^GH MANCHURIA fortune, for the gain in comfort and time by the substitution of tlie ))ioad-gaugc is at tlie expense of the beautiful scenery. Many of the hills have now been tunnelled. The former line had, owing to the necessity for haste, been carried roimd and over the liills, fj-om which an exquisite panorama was unfolded. The journey over this nai'i o\v -gauge line impressed me with the skill and I'esoui'cefiilness of the Japanese engineers in laying down, in the short space of a few nronths during the war, a service- able track, without boring a single tunnel — and this in a hilly and mountainous country ! To-day I believe there are more than thirty tunnels, the longest being nearly a mile in length. The boring of these tunnels will rob the preseiit route of much of its charm. It is impossible to convey an adequate idea of the exquisite panorama of beauty that unfolded itself before the eyes of the traveller high up on those hills. Looking down, one saw the little red-eai'th track, the course of the railway, winding its tortuous course in and out shady valleys, green with luxuriant foliage, and waving crops of rice and millet through which silvery streams lazily wended their way to the distant mountains, their blui>>li tints blending with the waving yellow of the ripening grain. Weeping willows drooped in graceful languor over rippling streams, whose waters were dammed at intervals with barriers of stones to turn the primitive water-wheels for the homesteads. Here and there one espied the blue-garbed labourer working diligently in the fields ; ]Manehu caits drawn by teams of all kinds of animals — oxen yoked with donkeys and mules, ho]-ses, too, whilst a drove of pigs sometimes followed in the wake. Amidst all this beauty and peaceful calm there was constant rciuindcr of the tcri'iblc carnage that tliese placid hills and glades had \vitncss(;d not so many moiiths before. Little green mounds — the graves of the dead— met one's eyes on all sides. Rifle-pits and trendies, now covered with Nature'-, cloak, recalled scenes of blood aiid strife. We })assed on our way numerous villages, which consisted of small iuits built oJ' stone, held together with nmd, the walls j)lastered with chopped straw and clay. 171 A WANDERER'S TRAIL The presence of a foreigner seemed to excite a certain amount of curiosity and interest at the villages where we stopped. Small groups of naked toddlers, stolid-faced men, carmine -painted women and maidens with their peculiar Manchu head-dress, would assemble round my cai'riagc and indulge in personal comment. Fortunately — for I was pretty sure that they were not complimentary^ — I was not able to understand their remarks. In one range of hills the sunmiits of five adjoining peaks were flattened with astounding regularity, giving the impression of turrets of an old castle. Most of the liills were thickly wooded, their purple and blue tints clianging into and blending harmoni- ously with the green of the verdui'e and foliage. Slate abounded in some of the districts through which the line ran. The walled town of Mukden is a long way from the railway station and it took me a full hour's drive in a Russian droshky to reach it. I put up at a Japanese hotel for other reasons be- sides that of economy, as one is always sure to find cleanliness at such places, if not exactly French cooking. To mc, however, the eating of Japanese food was no hardship : my residence in a temple in Tokio had trained my palate to everything save raw seaweed. I made a short stay of a couple of days in this city and obtained a glimpse into the life of the Manchus in Manchuria. A walk along the top of the massive wall that encircled the city gave a comprehensive view of the town and of the surroundijig country. A stroll through the thronged and busy streets, the sight of the pig-tailed gendarmerie and militai'v, impressed me with the great though still dormant vitality of China. I had in my possession a " chit " to the American Consul from his colleague in Seoul, the wording of which was deliglitfully crisp and brief. Just the words : " My dear S — — , 1 coiumend Mr Ridger to youi' tender mercies. Youis V ." Unfoitunately the Consul was absent, so I missed a pleasant chat and a cocktail ! I met one or two very charming Japanese gentlemen in IMukdeii, and iu Llieir company visited Ilokriugo \\]i(Te tlie old 172 FROM KOREA THROUGH MANCHURIA tombs of the JManchu kings are situated. A pleasant drive brought us to the thick grove of pines which enclose the resting- place of the dead ]Manchu rulers i-cckoned to be many centuries old. Some handsomely carved images of dragons, elephants and horses lined the tiled terraces and courtyard, each image being carved out of one piece of stone. The tiles, though many hundieds of years old, were still in splendid condition, the glaze not a jot inferior to the best that our potteries can to-day turn out. Surreptitiously I appropriated a small piece. The main line fj-om Mukden to Cliangchun, the terminus of the Japanese railway, was then in course of reorganisation, and the supply of modern rolling stock was still very limited. I was fortunate therefore in catching a train made up of the newest type of Pullman car. The seating accommodation how- ever was in the form of arm-chairs — very comfortable in the daytime but rather tiring at night, " sleepers " not yet being in use. To-day all these small inconveniences are a thing of the past, for the South Manchuria Railway is considered to be one of the best-equipped and managed lines in any part of the world — a credit to Japan's commercial men. Even "chronic kickers " would have difficulty to find fault or any genuine cause for complaint. When leaving jNIukden I caught sight of a vast expanse of little green mounds — tlie Chinese cemetery of the town. The (■hincse l)ui'y their dead " topside "—above the ground, not below, as we do. Well-built Russian houses lined the course of the railway with Russian names still in evidence. Japanese officials inhabited them, though looking somewhat out of place. One felt large- bearded Russiajis should have stood in tlie lofty doorways of those solid buildings, instead of dapper and rather consequential little Japanese officers. Beside this evidence of the change of ownership trenches and rifle-pits, roofless houses wrecked by shells, together with many little groups of graves, reminded one only too forcibly of 173 A WANDERER'S TRAIL the blood that had been shed and the thousands of hves lost in the struggle that liad occurred but three years before. The crops were looking splendid. Manchuria, which I in my youthful ignorance had imagined to be an almost barren plain, proved to be one of the most fertile territories I visited. Tall waving fields of kaoliang (millet), flourishing crops of beans and vegetables, testified to the j'ichness of parts of this country. Numerous reports were then cun-ent about the raids and the damage inflicted by the Hunghutzes — the brigands of Man- churia. Instances of attacks on the train were not uncommon. The great height to which the kaoliang grows affords shelter for these robbers, who utilise its cover in their attacks on the villages. We passed at noon Tiehling Heights, the hills there being pitted and scarred by the hurricane of shot and shell that had swept them during the masterly retreat of the Russians from their position. By eight o'clock in the evening we reached the terminus of the S.^M.R. ; just a short distance from Changchun is Kwangchangtsu, whei'c the Russian sphere of influence begins. It will be remembered that in 190.5 the Japanese acquired from the Russians the main line of the Chinese Eastern Railway from Daii'cn to Changchun, with its branch lines and the coal mines at Fusliun. A drive in a droshky in pitch darkness over the jnost execrable roads bi'ought me to the temporary railway hotel, where to-day, I am told, stands one of the handsomest hotels in the East. I forgot to ask my infoi'mant whether tliei-e are some slightly improved roads. I sincerely hope so I It was not a drive ; it was a series of jum]3s over jniniature hills and dales, over young moujitains and ])i('('ipiecs, into youthful valleys and gullies. I I'cached the hotel, however, in safety- — though breath- less ! My driver would \\ii\c made his foitune in a London circus ; the way he mani])ulate(l Ww leins and shaved corners and ti'ecs was I'emarkable. A (hive thi'ough the town of Kwangchanfftsu the following day revealed to me even Avorsp specimens of " tlioiotiglilares " than those 1 had negotiated the pievious m'ght. 174 '3Z5HI3 lit: ;^ FROM KOREA THROUGH MAXCIIURIA I marvelled then how in that pitch darkness i had reached the hotel alive ! As Oregon is always associated in my mind with picking strawberries so is the Chinese town of Kwangchangtsu with diabolical roads. The illustration produced but faintly conveys an idea of the thick mire and the general state of the ground. The heavy rains convert these so-called roads into morasses and when the winter sets in they arc frozen hard in the same mould. In this town I visited a Chinese theatre. I admired the hand- some if somewhat showy dresses of the actors and actresses. I admired the energy of the orchestra. But most of all I admired the wonderful lung power of the principal artists ! The chief impression I obtained was that the leading lady was endeavour- ing to sing to beat the band — not in tlie vulgar sense — literally ! On more than one occasion slie won — she drowned the band and I heard her voice. When she lost, or didn't beat the band, I only Iviiew she was singing by observing the veins on her forehead swell almost to bursting point. At any indication, however, of her victory being too prolonged the band \\ould be stimulated to further efforts, and, as Chinese instrumental nmsic is decidedly powerful, a most terrible, deafening noise was the result. It was in this part of the world that I met my first prince — a Russian. I had been given a letter of introduction by the Russian Consul in Seoul to Prince Mestchersky, the Consul in this town. He was a most charming man and as courteous to un- important me as though I had been some distinguished traveller. He was also, I think, one of the most splendid specimens of manhood I have ever seen. He very amiably granted my request for a pass over the Russian line to Harbin, and if I had wished it would have extended it to the bojxlers of Russia. I gratefully thanked him and diplomatically suggested that a return pass would fully meet my modest requirements. This was granted. Needless to say, tliis Russian ofiicial spoke English fluently and other Continental languages besides liis own. I wo]ider if my reack'r shares the foolish and erroneous idea, unfortunately still .'^o prevalent in England, that Russia has not her full share 175 A WAXDEIiER'S TRAIL of accomplished and cultured gentlemen, I obtained, it is true, only a glimpse of the nationals of Russia up in this part of the world — the fringe of tlie gicat Russian Kmpire ; but it was enough to show me liow foolish was the anti-Russian feeling that pervaded the British Islcs during the late war- — as false and as foolish as was the absurdly pro-Japaiiese sentiment. One fears that the very great ignorance of us British — our ignorance of every coimti-y beyond the little islands in which we dwell — • is one of the chief cau'-es of international ill-feeling. I was a godsend to the one solitary Eiu'opoan resident of the hotel, a Scotsman representing a Shanghai business firm. We beguiled many hoins with games of American billiards, of which game we wcie both equally ignorant : consequently we were perfectly matched. The wcatliei- sirice my arrival in Manchiu'ia had been very lovely — hot and sunny ; so taking advantage of the fact my companion and I o]i tlie following day. Simday. took a stroll roimd the outskirts of tlie to^vn. We obtained a good glimpse of the agriculturiil methods, as also of the products of the district. The ero])s looked very healthy. ^lelons. millet, beans — all were in a llourisliiiig condition. Toinatoes grew well but no trouble seemed to be taken to tend them, much of the fruit simply rotting by contact with the soil : doubtless the ubiquitous pig thrived on tliem. A ten-hours' ride on the Russian line brought me to Harbin. Though only ;i h-w mik's s(/])araied the Ja]ianese railway terjuinus of Cliaiigeliuu from llie Russian sta;tiag-})oint at Kwa]igehaiigisii. tin,' Irair-ition \\iis almost that of Asia to Europe. In the ti'ain to Ilarbiu {lure \\-ei-e many Russian officers travelling norili. and agaiust IIkIj' towcriiig l)odles my five feet ele\'f]i inches of I'.agilc' IVaiiii' scciacd ([Uitc ecli])sed. In eonvers- ijig with ihcm. or in iii\' ( adca\'oui',s to do s(.>. I miu'dei'ed tlie (ic'/iiian language, as ihonI (jf tliciu knew no Kuglish. Tins pai't of the ^\■o^^d is about the- only ])laee I have e\"ei' \"isited where Ijiglish has jjcc 11 of lit lie Usc. I had to blunder along with bits 176 FROM KOREA THROUGH MANCHURIA of Japanese and twisted Chinese and odd phrases of French and German. The fact that English is so universally spoken, or at least known, is, I think, the main cause that the modern English- man's talent for learning any other language than his own has nearly atrophied. The sight of some of the fine buildings of New Harbin and the general European tone of the town were very refreshing after months of Oriental atmosphere. The buildings looked finer than they really were. Prior to the Russian occupation of Harbin and the building of the Chinese Eastern Railway, it was the site of nothing more than a small and unimportant Chinese village. The construction of the railroad, of extensive workshops and warehouses soon produced a change. In Seoul I had been warned that Harbin was one of the "toughest " places in the East, or in the West for that matter, as the town was suffering from the slump that had set in — the aftermath of the boom during tlie war. The condition of things was certainly no better than that of which I had been told. My friend Mr Harrison's opinion of Harbin's moials, or lack of them, coincides with mine. He says ^ : "A word of friendly advice to the stranger in Harbin. Steer clear of dai'k corners ! The Grouzin, or Georgian, is abroad in the land more especially when the sun has gone down ; he is a walking arsenal of Brown- ings and poniards ; is constantly on the lookout for lost sheep ; and the belated wayfarer who is not punctual in his response to the sudden invitation ' hands up ' (rookee vverkh ! ) as often as not never gets any further than Harbin. For unfortunates of tliis description there is certainly a ghastly appropriateness in the esotei'ic meaning of the word Harbin which is said to be dei'ived from the Chinese ' Hoahin ' meaning a ' big tomb.' These (icoi-gians are the curse not only of Harbin but of all North Manchuria and East Siberia. They are never known to wo.-k and they are rarely without a good supply of hard cash." Nevertheless living up to my motto of " not to look for trouble ^ " Peace or War — East of Baikal ? " (E. J. Harrison). M 177 A WANDERER'S TRAIL but be always ready for it," I roamed safely round the town, visiting in the evenings the cafes, listening to the music and watching the comings and goings of the many well-dressed Russian men and women. The sound of a violin was very re- freshing aftci- the unmusical samisen of Japan. Cinematograph shows were numerous, as also were the demi-mondaines that frequented tliem. The town of Har])in has three sections : the New Town, Harbin Old Town, and Harbin-Pristan. The New Town is, one might say, the European or Russian pait of the city ; in this part are tlic j-ailway olJiccs, banks and churches, etc. The Old Town is a poorer though more animated edition of the New; whilst Harbin-Pristan is the I'cal business quaitcr. The bean is the sta])le commodity. Harbin is also becoming j'carly more impoi'tant as a convenient export centre for iloui" and corn. After an enjoyable stay of three days in Hai'bin, a stay made doubly plcasiint by the kindness shown me by Russians and Japanese alike, I returaed over the line to Mukden. Ti-avelling south, I ])assed Liaoyang and Ta-Sliih-Chiao, memorable scenes of some of the bloodiest lights that have ever shamed the world, and reached Dairen at daybreak on the following day. I was not at all sorry to leave the train. 178 Mi Klii;\; lilK TdMl;- iil-- THI-: Mam lir IvMI'KRoK II \Kl;!\ CHAPTER XV IMPRESSIONS OF DAIREN AND PORT ARTHUR I FEAR my brief stay in Dairen, or Dalny, as it used to be called, was one on which I do not much care to look back. Save for a visit to Port Arthur and a brief moment of interest when the Chinese Viceroy of Manchuria arrived in Dairen, I barely moved from the hotel doors. I was both physic- ally and mentally run down, and suffered from a black mood. Here I first realised that even a young man could suffer from overwrought nerves. Three months of nearly steady travel since leaving Tokio, including some twenty-one days on the railway, during A\iiicli period my brain had been ceaselessly engaged in absorbing information, impressions and ideas, had quite tired me out. I was also beginning to feel the strain of twenty months of wandering in various countries in my unorthodox way, more or less penniless ; and to realise that I was burning the candle at both ends. The garden-party given in lionour of the Viceroy's visit, to which I was courteously invited, was a very pretty and successful fete. The Japanese are certainly ideal hosts. This raises a point to which I would refer. I have frequently heard it alleged that the Japanese are hospitable to strangers only from interested motives, ideal hosts only when it suits them. I do not deny that Japan is fully alive to the necessity of entertaining sumptuously and of being very agreeable to distinguished strangers from purely interested motives ; but what nation to-day is not equally alive to this necessity and does not do the same ? Japan can no more be accused of ulterior motives on this score than can England, Germany or the Argentine. My tra\'els through Japan, Korea and Manchuria testify to 179 A WANDERER'S TRAIL the falseness of the aceusation of insincerity in hospitality directed against the Japanese. Although I was merely an unimportant stranger in their midst, with no power to do them good or harm and unable to requite tlicij- kindness, I was generously treated by all classes, both official and private. After my fifth day in Dairen I pulled myself together and visited Port Arthur. The sun was shining brightly. Everything looked very fresh. The hills, with the mountains in the back- ground, appeared rich and green and the shining watei's of the bay brilliantly reflected the sun's rays. But notwithstanding the peaceful aspect of everything, and though it was full three years since this celebrated fortress was in the awful throes of war it was not difficult to imagine the bay covered again with war- like craft vomiting showers of shot and shell ; to see again the hills draped in smoke through which could just be discerned thick masses of struggling and lighting humanity ; to hear again the shrieking of the shells, the booming of tlie guns, and the moans of the dying. Stern i-ealities in the shape of roofless and dis- mantled houses, buildings with gaping holes, walls in ruins, supplied the necessary stinuilus to one's imagination. I first visited 203 Metre Hill, the scene of some of the bloodiest fights the world has ever seen or heai'd of. An hour's carriage drive over terrible roads, but through ])retty count ly, brought me to the foot of this famous, or infamous, hill — the highest emiTicncc in the chain which protected the west side of tlie t()\v]i. The to]) of the hill was destroyed by the terrible fire that was poured on it ; its former shape is no longer recognisable. After neaily an hour's climb I reached the sunmiit. The sides of the hill were everywhere scored and furi'owed with shell- marks. Nearly all the gi'ucsome I'clics of the terrible conflict had been gutJK red u]). thougli licic and there I came aci'oss a fi'agmeut of a soldier's coat, a few bones and some rusty cartridge-cases. On the top of the hill stood the remains of one of the Russian guns, the stock of which had been shattered to pieces by a shell. The carriage coiisisted of only a few twisted and rent fragments i8o fe^ <\ Au'iiirK; \ |ai' \\i-;-i-: Mi:\mki\i A 1-. iKi \i l'''Ki' AKiiirK \i ri:i< !;• iMI; \kI'Mi:\ IMPRESSIONS OF DAIRF.N AND PORT ARTHUR of iron riddled with shot. Tons and tons of powdered and splintered rock were strewn on the summit. The hill commands a view of the whole of the western and most of the eastern part of the harbour, and looks down on all the fortified hills adjoining. Commanding as it does an extensive view of the surrounding country, the hill was the veritable key to Port Arthur. Its occupation by the Japanese sealed the doom of the fortress. It was bad for the Russians that they neglected to build defence works on this hill ; for it was not till the two adjoining hills^ — 174 Metre Hill and Takagaki^ — -had fallen that they started fortifying this position. Lines of trenches and two lines of wire entanglements were then immediately made, the trenches being strongly protected with iron plates and rails. All the world loiows of the despei'ate efforts made by the Japanese to occupy the ground : how they were repulsed time and again, leaving behind them companies of dead mowed down by the Russian fire ; how it was not till after weeks and weeks of terrible and madly heroic fighting, weeks of bombardment, and attack after attack, that the hill at last was captured. I was told by some Japanese officers that many of the Russian gunners went raving mad. All the Russian guns were trained on certain sights carefully measured. The flickering rays of the searchlight would reveal to the defenders a company of Japanese marching to attack. The deadly white ray of light would dwell on a mark, and when the attacking force came within the fatal zone the Russian guns would belch their liail of shot and shell. When the smoke dissipated there was revealed to the eyes of heaven just a mass of writhing mutilated humanity^ — and another company of Japanese soldiers marching to their death over the dead bodies of their brothers and friends. Fifteen thousand men fell on that bloody hill, eight thousand of them being Japanese. No wonder men went mad ! I next visited the north fort of East Kei-Kwan-zan. This fort was the strongest permanent works in this line of defence. Here it was that General Krondrachenko and most of his staff were i8i A WANDERER'S TRAIL killed by one of the first eleven-inch shells used by the Japanese in their bombardment of Poit A rthur. Tcnible indeed must have been tlie fire and the force of the dynamite employed to break down tlie massive stone parapet and defences. Surrounded by a hu<^e diteli the foii was all but impregnable. A mass of ruijis, gigantic blocks of masonry lying Jierc and there, twisted and torn girders, tons of debris and shattered stone, met one's eyes on all sides. Nature now has covei-ed a great part of the wreckage with her peaceful cloak of green as though to hide from view the I)itiful woik of Man. Returning, I passed the chain of forts adjoining, showing trenches and hills scored all over with deep holes caused by the bursting shells. These holes in the hills, viewed from a dis- tance, presented a most peculiar sight. At the foot of all the hills could be seen little green graves banked with stone. I concluded my visit to Port Arthur by inspecting the War Souvenir Museum. The building is surrounded by defence works, trenches, wire entanglements, etc., and gave one a good idea of how some of those redoubtable forts I had just visited must liave appeared before being reduced to the condition in which they are now. Models also of all the foi'ts can be seen by the en- lightened visitor who wishes on his return home to talk glibly of abattis, parapets, etc. Captured guns and cannon, various weapons and war materials of all kinds, includiiig scaling ladders, bomb-proof shelters and hand grenades (soine made out of condensed milk tins) — in short, everything which the devilish ingenuity and perverted intelligence of MaTi has invented for the destruction of Man, gave one a vivid idea of the horrors of war ! 182 CHAPTER XVI DOWN THE CFIINESE COAST I LEFT Dairen for China on the 14th September, sailing on the Kobe Maru, one of the new steamers that had just been put on the lun to Shanghai by the enterprising South Manchuria Railway. On the morning of the 16th we entered the Yangtse. One could hardly describe the Yangtse as picturesque, for its banks are low and flat and the water is very mudd}^ in appear- ance. We anchored off Woosang shortly after noon and docked in Shanghai just before sunset. Woosang lies at the junction of the Hwang-pu and the most southern arm of the Yangtse. Whilst in Shanghai I endeavoured to ai-range a passage in some westward-bound freighter ; for I had now decided to make my way home by way of Boston, as I had pledged myself to visit my Alaskan friend thei'e — and what was an exti-a two or three thousand miles to me then ? As my efforts were unsuccess- ful, I decided to return to Moji, in Japan, where I thought I should have a better opportunity of accomplishing my object, Moji being a much frequented coaling port. Fuithcrmoje, the greater part of my baggage still remained in Japan, where I had left it prior to visiting Korea. On the evening of the 24th I left Shanghai in a Japanese coal tramp. After a smooth trip of two days we arrived off Kuchinotzu, where the steamer put in for orders. Receiving instjuctions to proceed to Miike to load a cargo of coal for China, wc steamed for tliat port and berthed in the new Mitsui dock eaily in the morning. I spent a few profitable hours in Miike, gaim'ng an insight into the coal industry. Miike is the Barry docks of Japan. Travelling north I passed some very pretty scenery, the land 183 A WANDERER'S TRAIL being in its autumn cloak. In the evening I reached Moji. I spent a few days here — fruitless days as regards the fulfilment of my object, but far from so in respect to the pleasant and restful time I passed in the quiet household of a Japanese family. And I appreciated the change after my tiring wanderings in Korea and Manchuria. On the 5th October I said farewell to Japan. Early in the morning of the 12th the high Peak of Hong-Kong appeared in view, and by daylight we were anchored in the harbour. Dis- embarkation was decidedly wet work, as tlie north-east monsoon was blowing hard and a typhoon had been signalled the preced- ing day in the neighbourhood of the colony. Perhaps a word about typhoons — the scourge of the Eastern Seas — may not prove out of place here. In the Far East typhoons are most prevalent during the months from July to October, that of September being the worst. From December to May they seldom occur, though a few have been reported during this period. Typhoons are most frequently met with in the vicinity of Luzon and Hainan Island (Philippine Group) and off the south-east corner of Japan^ — -roughly, between latitude 9° N. and 45° N. As a rule the typhoon originates in the east to the south-east of the Philippines and travels in a west to north- westerly direction, at a rate of anything from five to thirty miles an hour. The force of the wind near the centre cannot be in any way accurately estimated ; somewhere between one hundred and twenty to two hundred miles per houi-. It generally seems to blow Avith the greatest fuiy when near the land. To the navigator at sea the earliest sign is the appearance of a fluffy, feathery kind of cloud, of the cirrus type,^ travelling from the east in a northerly direction. This, coupled with a rise in the barometer, and a clear dry day, is generally suflicient warning to the observant sailor. The usual ugly and threatening appearance of the weather which heralds the approach of most 1 Caused, it is considered, by a rising column of moist air from the centre oi the typhoon, or cyclone, condensing in the higher levels of the atniospliere. 184 DOWN THE CHINESE COAST storms then follows, with a confused and tunibhng sea coming from the direction in which the typhoon is approaching. Within its immediate vicinity- — the danger zone — there is great baro- metric disturbance (the barometric pressure sometimes falls to as low as 28"50 inches and subsequently rises as the centre recedes). It is not customary, however, for a mariner to feel any great curiosity about the centre of a typhoon. If he be wise, directly he notices the indications that one is approaching, he goes full speed out of its track ; and in these days of high-powered steamers it is not a very hard task, given sufficient time, to avoid the course of these disturbances. In the days of the old windjammer it was a more difficult task. The United States Hydrographic Office issues monthly pilot charts of the Pacific, Atlantic and Indian Oceans, and these charts are of immense assistance to the navigator in these waters. They give him a mass of valuable information regarding the prevailing winds for the month, their force and direction, the track of t\"phoons or other depressions, the force and direction of the currents, the last reported jDOsition of derelicts, etc. These charts are furnished free, as an equivalent for service rendered, to mariners who assist by filling in the daily weather forms issued by the United States Hydrographic Office in its work of collecting and distributing data. Hong-Kong is one of the prettiest spots ever designed by Nature. The harbour is one of the finest in the world. It consists of a sheet of water between the island and the mainland of China and has an area of ten square miles. With its diversified scenery and shipping, it always presents an imposing spectacle. The town is picturesquely situated, the houses rising tier upon tier on the face of the Peak to a height of many hundred feet. The slopes of the island are now covered with young forests, the result of an excellent afforestation scheme of the Government, which has wonderfully improved the climate of the colony. At night-time, however, Hong-Kong is seen at its best, and affords a sight not readily forgotten. 185 A WANDERER'S TRATT. The climate of Hong-Kong to-day is as healthy as it formerly was the reverse, the improvement being due to the system of drainage, and the afforestation scheme referred to. In England the prevailing idea is that Shanghai and Hong-Kong are simply graveyards on account of the so-called deadly climate. That might have been true of these places fifty years back, but it is far from so to-day. If those who iiold that opinion could but see some of the hale and hearty residents of these two ports, w'ho have lived the best part of their lives there and have, besides, managed to raise very healthy offspring, they would, I think, very speedily change their eri'oneous idea. There is, however, one disease, with the germs of which the blood of all who have i esidcd for any length of time in Cathay is inoculated. It is a disease that cannot be cured ; once inoculated, the blood is ever tainted. The disease is one known to the Eastern world as maskeeitis. Its chief symptom is the victim's more or less complete indifference to the trivial worries and troubles of this world. It is the demonstration of the true Eastern mood. The young " griffin," hale, full of vim and vigour, is at first aghast at the inroads of this disease. In his youthful strength he despises it ; he next begins to respect it ; then fights it ; eventually, he succumbs to it. One example : the " griffin," after his first month is over, comes up against his first molehill, erected by an almond-eyed Chink. He fumes, he threatens, he blusters and swears ; then finally confides his trouble to one of his elder friends, who merely remarks laconically : '" Well, maskee ! " Disgusted at this lack of sympathy the "griffin" growls and withdraws. Another few months pass and his almond-eyed "boy" one morning blandly remarks: "Master have makee give away his one piecee watch ? " " What do you mean ? " ejaculates the startled "griffin." "Me no savee," calmly re- marks the " boy." "Me no can see ; me thinkee you makee give to No. 1 nice girl." " D- — n you ! " bursts out the infui'iated "future-taipan." " You catehee oi I knock h- — 1 out of you ! " " Can do," replies the boy. " Me again makee look see." The watch is, of course, not forthcoming ; so again the young man j86 DOWN THE CHINESE COAST pours his tale of woe into the ears of one of his seasoned friends, who only replies : " Oh, maskee ! Your boy's stolen it ; sack liim ! " " No ! I'll run him in. I'll go to the police now ! I'll ! " His f i-iends smile (they know the Hong-Kong police ^) and remark: "Oh! maskee!" At this the goaded youth bursts out : " D — ^n ! Life seems all maskee ! " Quite right ! youngster, you're wiser now than you were six months ago. Life is, indeed, all maskee ! I was fortunate in arianging from Hong-Kong a passage to the West. I struck a bargain with the captain of a westAvard-bound tramp to work as his purser to Boston and to pay the sum of twenty pounds. This saved me a good twenty pounds. There were now left only a very few pounds out of my initial capital of fifty ; just enough, with careful handling, to get me home. The ship I joined was a spar-deck cargo boat, loading a general cargo for America. She had already part loaded in Japan and had yet to load in the Straits Settlements before starting her voyage westward. When we were on the eve of leaving Hong-Kong, the approach of a t\^hoon was signalled. The t\^hoon cones were raised early in the morning. Towards afternoon the wind increased, and more ugly and threatening became the weather. The whole harbour was now emptied of its small craft. A few lighters lay alongside our steamer, from which we were quickly loading the last remnants of our cai'go, the coolies working against time so as to get away. Pitiful almost was their fear that they would be detained too long ! At last they cast off their lines, willy-nilly, although some of the cargo was not yet on board. All the steamers lying in the liarbour had steam up ; an imcanny air of suspense pervaded the atmosphere. All were waiting for the t\^hoon to strike. When the sun sank, it sank amidst clouds of fearful shape, all tinted with that ominous oi-angc-gold hue, devilishly beautiful, but with a beauty that speedily puts the ' Hong-Kong is the worst policed city in the Ivast. The babel and pandemonium at all hours of the night, its three-times-a-weclc robberies, would make a Moorish city blush. 187 A WANDERER'S TRAIL fear of God into one at sea ! Towards midnight thewind increased into a gale. Our second anchor was dropped.^ From then, how- ever, the wind lessened in force. In the morning we learnt that the typhoon had passed to the eastward, Hong-Kong having just escaped from being in its track. Therefore only stormy weather had reached us. By noon we had left Hong-Kong and were steaming south for Singapore. A smooth passage of six days brought us to that island. We anchored off the town shortly after daybreak and it was not long before the hatches were off and the winches busily hauling up cargo. It took us eight days to complete loading. During this time I had plenty of opportunity to visit the town and its outskirts, though, apart from some beautiful ti'opical foliage, there was little with which to occupy one's attention. We left Singapore on the evening of the 28th and steamed through the Malacca Straits for Penang. On the morning of the 30th we sighted the island and anch.ored off the town shortly after noon. The entrance to Pulo Penang needs careful navigation, owing to the mudbanks that lie close to the deep- water channel. ]Many fishing stakes also have to be avoided. It rained for a good part of the time that we lay off Penang, and this considerably delayed the loading of our cargo, as much of the produce was perishable. The rainfall of the island is fairly heavy owing to the influence of the regular monsoons, and rain falls more or less during all seasons of the year. The climate is nevertheless not unhealthy, being somewhat similar to, say, that of the Canary Islands. Tlie climate of Singapore, though lying just a degree north of the equator, is also good. Penang settlement includes the island — about one hundred and seven square miles m area — and a strip of land on the opposite coast, known as the Wellesley Pj'ovince ; also some small islands, the Dindings. A narrow strait, varying from ' In the typhoons of '06 and 'oS full-powered steamers lying in the harbour were dragging their anchors — and yet steaming full speed ahead ' 188 •*