broad Pacific. The short, chopping sea is changed into long, heavy swells, covering the expanse of waters with vast parallels separated by deep valleys, the distance from crest to crest being from one hundred and fifty to two hundred feet, when a heavy gale prevails. The height of the waves is measured from the trough to the crest, and is of course conjecture, but in a continuous storm which we realized on board the Belgic was certainly some thirty feet. One aspect was to us an unsolved problem: the storm being on our starboard quarter was so nearly aft as to give us some idea of the velocity of the waves, which was clearly much greater than that of the ship's progress, and yet they increased the speed of the Belgic scarcely at all. That is to say, these waves exercised little if any propelling force, but seemed to pass under our keel, causing the hull to pitch and roll so that it was quite impossible to stand without holding on to some substantial fixture. Old George Herbert, in his quaint way, advises people to praise the sea, but to keep on dry land.
Life on shipboard, as has been intimated, becomes a little trying after a week or ten days' experience. Tedium and monotony have a tendency to bring out the less amiable characteristics of passengers who are thus crowded together under peculiar circumstances. Even the most equable disposition is liable sometimes to exhibit weakness. Where there are many passengers thorough agreement becomes hardly possible. Hasty confidences and abrupt prejudices are both the outgrowth of such enforced association. Reading is a great and intelligent resort at sea, but do not let the student flatter himself that he will find time and opportunity for study. Sea-life is antagonistic to such an idea, and the best resolves in that direction will end in idleness and disappointment.
The crew, the waiters, and the cooks of the Belgic were all Chinamen, and it must be admitted that in each capacity the service rendered was excellent. It seems to be generally acknowledged that when a Chinaman knows what is required of him, he will faithfully perform the duty, and, entirely unlike most employees, does not need the watchful eye of a master constantly over him. The ship was well officered by Englishmen, was scrupulously neat and clean; there was no loud talk or reiterated orders in its management; the effective arm of discipline was felt but not seen. To observe the Chinese passengers was a source of some amusement. In fine weather they crowded the forward and lower deck aft, not being permitted to infringe upon the cabin-passengers' deck. They squatted in picturesque groups round the hatchways much of the time, playing cards and dominoes for very small stakes of money. John is by nature a gambler, and cannot resist its fascination. The dull noxious smell that permeated their quarters at all times, in spite of enforced ventilation and the well-observed rules of the ship, was often wafted unpleasantly towards our cabins and deck, telling a significant story of the opium-pipe, and a certain uncleanliness of person peculiar to Africans and Mongolians. When the sea became rough and the ship labored with the storm, a visible anxiety was depicted on the Mongol faces as they gathered in groups and gave up all attempts at amusement. On such occasions they prepared pieces of joss-paper, bearing some Chinese characters, and cast them overboard to appease the presumed anger of the special gods who control the sea.
As we were losing one hour in each fifteen degrees of our course, or, to state it perhaps more clearly, in each thousand miles of progress westward, when half round the world from Greenwich twelve hours would be lost. It is therefore customary to drop a day in mid-ocean, which we did on crossing the hundred and eightieth degree of longitude west and east of Greenwich. When the traveler shall have reached Greenwich again on this course, the remaining twelve hours will be exhausted, and his time will agree with that of the starting-point. During the voyage two of the Chinese passengers died, and were embalmed by the surgeon of the ship. It is a conviction of these people that their soul cannot rest in peace unless their ashes be buried in their native land. When a Chinaman dies in a foreign country, sooner or later his remains are carried home for interment. If only the bones are left, they are finally dug up and thus disposed of by surviving friends. This sort of cargo has formed no small source of profit to ships sailing west from San Francisco, bones and bodies being shipped like merchandise.
As we crept slowly at half speed into the harbor of Yokohama, among the merchant shipping, surrounded by a myriad of little shore-boats, steering in and out through the Russian, English, and Japanese men-of-war, the twilight was gradually approaching; and when we rounded to, three hundred yards from the shore, under the lee of the United States sloop-of-war Richmond and let go our anchor, she fired her evening gun. At the same moment her band, in recognition of the flag that floated from our topmast head, as we carried the American mail, poured forth the strains of the "Star-Spangled Banner" with a thrilling spirit which caused a quick and hearty cheer fore and aft the Belgic. Perhaps it is necessary for one to be thousands of miles from home, and to have just arrived in a foreign port from a long sea voyage, to fully appreciate this little incident.
CHAPTER II.
Landing in Japan.—Characteristic Street Scenes.—Native Bazars.—Women of Yokohama.—Excursion into the Country.—Visit to Kamakura.—Peculiar Scenes on the Road.—A Wonderful Bronze Statue.—Popular Religions of the Country.—The Hakone Pass.—A Youthful Mother.—Native Jugglers.—Temple of Shiba.—Review of the Soldiery.—Ludicrous Sights.—A Native Fair at Tokio.—A Poor Japanese Woman's Prayer.
Passengers arriving at Yokohama are obliged to land in small boats, as there are no wharfs; and vessels, on account of shallow water, anchor half a mile off shore. A small steam-tug came for us, and we found very comfortable quarters at the Windsor Hotel, kept by an American—a large, well-organized establishment. The housemaids were little Japanese men dressed in black tights, but very quick, intelligent, and desirous to please. The servants all spoke English; indeed it is the commercial language of the world, and there are few ports open to commerce where it does not form the basis of all business transactions. French is the polite or court language of many countries, and with these two tongues at command, one can get along easily in nearly any populous region of the globe.
When Commodore Perry, in 1854, cast anchor with his little fleet of American men-of-war in the harbor of Yokohama, it was scarcely more than a fishing village, but the population to-day must exceed a hundred and thirty thousand. The space formerly covered by rice fields and vegetable gardens is now laid out in well-built, wide thoroughfares, smoothly macadamized and faultlessly clean and neat. The town extends along the shore, which is level, but is backed by a half-moon of low, well-wooded hills, among which are the private dwellings of the foreign residents, built after the European style, on the location known as the Bluff. The two principal hotels, the club-houses, and some consular business residences, are located on the water-front, a wide thoroughfare known as the Bund. A deep, broad canal surrounds the city, passing by the large warehouses and connecting with the bay at each end, is crossed in its course by half a dozen handsome bridges.
Ascending the bluff one gets a fine and extended view, embracing the city on one side and Jeddo Bay on the other, with a foreground composed of the harbor of Yokohama, where more or less shipping, representing foreign nations, is always to be seen. In the distant west, over seventy miles away, the white, cloud-like cone of Fujiyama can be clearly discerned, while close at hand are the charming, villa-like residences of the European settlers. Towards Mississippi Bay, as it is called, numerous native gardens are to be seen, with cultivated fields of millet, cotton, rice, and buckwheat. On getting nearer to them, one discovers sweet potatoes, egg-plants, and a queer vegetable called the daicum, of which great use is made by the people. It resembles an elongated turnip, is about as large round as one's wrist, and milk white. On the path leading round the base of the bluff were many pretty wild-flowers, among which the blooming trefoil and the harebell were seen intermingled with a large and handsome species of daisy. The starwort, a great favorite with the Japanese, was met in abundance. It will be remembered that this flower forms part of the Mikado's arms. It was November, but the winter sleep of the flowers is brief here, and there are said to be no days in the year when a pretty bouquet may not be gathered in the open air. Ferns burst forth in abundance
