（横浜からの続き）名古屋から京都へ（大阪・神戸）

26. From (Yokohama) Nagoya to Kyoto (Osaka and Kobe).

Tokaido Main Line of the Imperial Government Railways.

Yokohama-Kobe Rte. (24) continued from p. 375. From Nagoya the train runs N.W. over a broad rice-plain in the province of Owari. The rly. leading S.W. runs ultimately along the shore of Ise Bay to Yamada-Ise and is referred to in Rte. 35. In the immediate environs of the city are many fine lotus-ponds which produce lovely flowers in Aug. and edible roots later. The splendid old castle is seen to fine advantage at the right. The land is excellently watered and very prolific; certain of the streams are choked with blue water-lilies (Castalia scutifolia), and in late autumn, after the rice is harvested, the submerged fields are almost covered with the familiar starwort, the minute Salvinia, and its ally the Azolla pinnata. The barley, wheat, and rape which are sown in rows at the end of Oct., often cover the unsubmerged portions with a lovely green in winter, and when the rape begins to show its first blooms (in early April) the region takes on a beautiful golden-yellow tinge. — The Bisai Rly. Line, which diverges left from (227 M.) Ichinomiya, goes to (16 M., fare, ¥1.20) Yatomi on the Kansai Rly. — The many pollarded mulberry trees one sees hereabout advertise the fact that the inhabitants of the mt. valleys of the province support themselves by rearing silk-worms. Considerable broom-corn and bamboo are also raised, and some pottery is made in the neighborhood. Beyond (234 M.) Kisogawa the line crosses the broad Kiso River on an 1874 ft. bridge that cost 3 million yen. The boats that glance up and down its blue surface look very pretty with their white, crinkly sails — some shaped like dragon-wings, others with black ideographs in the center or a black triangle at one corner. The oddly shaped craft moored in midstream are not house-boats, as one might deduce, but are primitive rice-mills operated automatically by power obtained from the current

through the crude paddle-wheels at the side. The smooth pike (excellent for motor-cars) visible from the train is the old Nakasendo. Many a glinting bicycle glides along it, and one notes that most of them are of English manufacture — the American article (once imported in quantities) having worn out its welcome by repeated cheapening of quality.

235 M. Gifu (Inn: Tsunokuni-ya; Tamai-ya, both near the station; ¥3), the chief city of Mino Province (capital of Gifu-ken), with 42,000 inhabs., produces quantities of paper lanterns, fans, and parasols; a silk-crape made of an admixture of silk from domestic and wild silk-worms; and a remarkably tough paper called Mino-gami (Mino paper), — much used for sliding-doors, etc. Foreigners usually associate Gifu with the great earthquake of 1891, and with Cormorant Fishing.

Cormorant Fishing (Ukai) has been practiced in China from time immemorial and was introduced hence to Japan perhaps in the 8th cent. Mature birds (Phalacrocorax carbo; Jap. U) are usually about 3 ft. long and 5 ft. in extent, with a heavy body, long, sinuous neck, a stout, hooked bill about as long as the head, a naked gular pouch, stout, strong wings, and 14 stiff tail-feathers denuded to the bases. The plumage is a dark gray verging into black. The birds are dextrous divers and fishers and are trained and employed in catching fish in various parts of Japan. Their unclean habits produce evil consequences and an odor particularly offensive to sensitive noses. After the shy birds are caught (in winter, on the coasts of the neighboring Owari Gulf, with decoys and bird-lime), they are easily trained and they soon develop surprising intelligence. They lay eggs (which are often hatched under barnyard hens) when 3 yrs. old and work well until they are 15 or 20. A single master-boatman (Usho) can easily oversee a gang of 12 birds (the customary number employed), and although hundreds may be out upon the water each knows its own master. Each seems also to know its number and rank, particularly the latter — for which it will wrangle shrewdly and which it maintains with a comic dignity. Ichi, or No. 1, the dean of the corps, is the last to be put into the water, the first to be taken out, the first to be fed and coddled, and the petted member to whom the most fish is customarily given. The others stand beside him on the gunwale of the boat, according to their rank, experience, and ability. Whatsoever bird gets into the wrong place is promptly and unceremoniously pecked out, and roundly scolded by the birds en masse. Each wears a ring around its neck to prevent its swallowing large fish. Round the body is a cord attached to a short strip of stout bamboo by which it is lowered into, or taken from, the water. A thin fiber rein, about 12 ft. long and not easily tangled, completes the harness by which the awkward but efficient bird is guided and kept in hand. The fishing-boats are picturesque. Each carries a large iron basket, filled with blazing pitch-pine, hung out on an iron rod from the bow, to light the work and attract the fish (ayu, a species of trout) which gather about it as moths about a lamp. Pleasure-boats (yusen) can be hired from ¥1.50 to ¥7, according to the number in the party and the size of the boat. Trips are often arranged from, and by the management of, the Nagoya Hotel. Fishing (to fish with cormorants is U no mane wo suru karasu) takes place on the Nagara River (a stream where cormorants fish is usually called U-gawa), near Gifu, every night (except on moonlit nights or when the river is too high) between 6 and 12 o'clock, from mid-May to mid-Oct. The fishing begins about 3 M. above the town (which marks the lower end of the course) and the boats drift down to it. A well-trained bird will catch from 100 to 200 fish in an hr.; when its pouch contains 6 or 8 fish it is drawn aboard, relieved of them, and sent back for more.

‘When the fishing-ground is reached’ (writes Major-General Palmer, R. E.),1 the master lowers his 12 birds one by one into the stream and gathers their reins in his left hand, manipulating the latter thereafter with his right as occasion requires. The kako (sailor) starts in with his volleys of noise (to

keep the birds up to their work), and forthwith the cormorants set to in the heartiest and jolliest way, diving and ducking with wonderful swiftness as the astonished fish come flocking toward the blaze of light. The master is now the busiest of men. He must handle his 12 strings so deftly that, let the birds dash hither and thither as they will, there shall be no impediment or fouling. He must have his eyes everywhere and his hands following his eyes. Specially must he watch for the moment when any of his flock is gorged, — a fact generally made known by the bird itself, which then swims about in a foolish, helpless way, with its head and swollen neck erect. Thereupon the master, shortening in on that bird, lifts it aboard, forces its bill open with his left hand, which still holds the rest of the lines, squeezes out the fish with his right, and starts the creature off on a fresh foray, — all this with such admirable dexterity and quickness that the eleven birds still bustling about have scarce time to get things into a tangle, — and in another moment the whole team is again perfectly in hand. All this while we have been drifting down, with the boats about us, to the lower end of the course, and are again abreast of Gifu, where the whole squadron is beached. As each cormorant is now taken out of the water, the master can tell by its weight whether it has secured enough supper while engaged in the hunt; failing which, he makes the deficiency good by feeding it with the inferior fish of the catch. At length all are ranged in their due order, facing outwards, on the gunwale of each boat. And the sight of that array of great ungainly sea-birds — shaking themselves, flapping their wings, gawing, making their toilets, clearing their throats, looking about them with a stare of stupid solemnity, and now and then indulging in old-maidish tiffs with their neighbors — is quite the strangest of its class I have ever seen, except perhaps the wonderful penguinry of the Falkland Islands, whereat a certain French philosopher is said to have even wept. Finally the cormorants are sent off to bed in their individual baskets.’ — Live specimens are exhibited in the Kyoto Zoological Garden.

Lovers of the delicious Japanese persimmon1 will find the dried product produced near Gifu (and shipped hence all over Japan) of exceptional flavor. Few, indeed, are the homes in Gifu Prefecture that do not possess one or more whirring little silk-reels, and many youngsters of the town itself spend their spare time decorating the paper lanterns which are shipped hence to all parts of the world. The traveler who by chance is forced to remain in Gifu for any length of time, can spend some of this to advantage visiting the beautiful (20 M. to the S.W.)

1 The Japanese Persimmon (kaki) ranges in size from a plum to a big apple, and foreigners often become as inordinately fond of it as they do sometimes of the evil-smelling, equatorial Durian. Some specimens of the kaki are nearly spherical, others are oblong, others heart-shaped. In color of the outer skin they range from light orange-yellow to deep orange-red. Some are eaten in a soft, doughy condition (like the well-frosted persimmon [Algonkian puchamin] of the S. of the United States), while others are gathered when still hard, to ripen afterward. Though the former appeal more strongly to the American taste, the latter are more highly esteemed by the Japanese, who call them tarugaki because they are converted from astringent into sweet fruit by being ripened in an old sake tub. When over-ripe and dried in the sun, pressed flat, and then put away in boxes, the sweet kaki assumes the status of a dried fig and is used like it. The white powder which covers the dried fruit is natural sugar that has exuded from it. — The Persimmon Tree (Diospyros Kaki) is one of the most important, beautiful, and widely distributed trees of Japan. It is a stately product, something like a pear tree, with handsome bright green leaves almost as large as those of the magnolia. These come in May, to be followed by the blossoms in June, and the fruit in Sept. and Oct. The wood is somewhat similar to Indian ebony, and is used largely in joiner-work, for veneer, and in the making of boxes, cabinets, etc.

Yoro Waterfall (100 ft. high) near the village of the same name. The Empress Gensho is said to have visited the spot in A.D. 717 and to have been so charmed with it that she changed the name of the era (717-24) to Yoro — a Chinese word signifying ‘one who supports the aged.’ Cherry blossoms, maples, hunting, fishing, and fine views are among the allurements, as well as a lake (Shimo-ike, 3 M. to the S.E.) which is a breeding-ground for ducks and wild geese. These assemble here in such numbers that the natives capture them in nets. The shallow reaches of the water are sometimes completely covered with the lovely lavender blossoms of the Pontederia.

From Gifu the rly. turns due W. and traverses a region as level as a Kansas prairie; the blue mts. which cut the sky-line at the left divide Mino Province from Ise and Omi. The fine Nagara-gawa Bridge (1515 ft. long), which we now cross, replaced the one crumpled and wrecked by the great earthquake of 1891; at the first shock the three central spans were tumbled into the river, the massive concrete and stone supports snapping like pipe-stems under them. 243 M. Ogaki, is the usual starting-point for the Yoro Waterfall mentioned above. The old castle 1/2 M. left of the rly. was built in 1535 by order of the 12th Ashikaga shogun, Yoshiharu. The long range of bulky mts. which wall in the horizon at the right as we proceed westward are referred to as the Japanese Alps. The line now slopes upward to (501 ft.) 252 M. Sekigahara (‘Barrier of the plain’), celebrated as the scene of a titanic and decisive battle (in 1600) for political supremacy between the forces of Ishida Mitsunari and Tokugawa Ieyasu. The view narrows as the train enters a valley clothed with bamboo, mulberry, evergreen, and deciduous trees. Many of the house-roofs are held down by heavy stones, and the peasantry follow the custom of stacking straw between convenient trees. The Imasu Tunnel (990 ft.) is traversed before Kashiwabara is reached, beyond which the valley broadens and the grade descends to 259 M. Nagaoka, a shipping-point for the fine gray granite quarried in the neighborhood. The historic Hiei-zan and the lofty hills that almost surround Lake Biwa are now seen ahead.

266 M. Maibara (Inn: Izutzu-ya, near the station, ¥3 — small refreshment room on the station platform), 383 ft. above the sea, in Omi Province, is the starting-point of the Hokuroku Line to Tsuruga, Fukui, Kanazawa, Naoetsu, and the intermediate places described in Rte. 32. Travelers to Japan from Europe, over the Trans-Siberian Rly. to Vladivostok, join the Tokaido Rly. here. — The sedgy reaches of the upper shore of the picturesque Lake Biwa soon come into view at the right, and in summer are idealized by many pond-lilies; the mts. which wall in the distant horizon look like dim blue wraiths. The rly. runs for some distance along the shore, then

turns inland, traverses the Bushiyama Tunnel, and emerges on the lake at 270 M. Hikone (Inn: Rakuraku-tei, ¥5). The quaint town (pop. 20,000) is of interest to foreigners chiefly for the old castle (permit from the innkeeper; small fee to the caretaker) which stands on a hill (now a public garden), commands an extensive view, and was the one-time home of the patriotic Ii Kamon-no Kami (see p. 22). — The rly. which branches S. from Hikone goes to (27 M., fare ¥2.04) Kibukawa. — From (295 M.) Kusatsu a short rly. runs through Kibukawa to Tsuge, a station on the Nara-Nagoya-Ise Line. — Soon after leaving Kusatsu our train threads two tunnels, crosses a rich alluvial plain, and comes within sight (left) of the Long Bridge of Seta (Seta no Kara-hashi).

This somewhat commonplace, iron-studded, wood bridge derives its name from the near-by village of Seta. The longest span (called O-hashi), which reaches from the shore to the island in the river, is 575 ft.; the other (Ko-bashi) is 215 ft. The original structure dated from very early times and was the scene of many stirring episodes. In the great struggle for supremacy in A.D. 672, the Emperor Temmu's general, Murakuni Oyori, defeated Chison, the partisan of Kobun, here; and in 736 Kusakabe burned the bridge in order to cut off the retreat of Oshikatsu, who was defeated and slain. Kiso Yoshinaga was beaten here in a hotly contested fight in 1184, and here the indomitable Oda Nobunaga pitched his camp after ordering the destruction of the Hiei-zan Monasteries in 1571. After the traitor Akechi Mitsuhide cowardly assassinated Nobunaga in 1582, he fled hither, but the castellan of Seta burned the bridge, seized all the boats, and prevented his escape. — The small Shinto shrine on the river bank is dedicated to Fujiwara Hidesato, a 10th-cent. military hero.

300 M. Otsu is an extension of the lake-shore town of Hama-Otsu, mentioned in Rte. 27.

See also the Hieizan Trip at p. 498A. This can be reversed and taken from Otsu.

Travelers bound for the Miyako Hotel, at Kyoto, can, if they so desire, descend from the train here, get aboard a tramcar of the Keishin Line, and disembark (about 30 min. ride) at the Keage, in Kyoto, 2 min. walk from the Miyako Hotel entrance. Telephone ahead and the Hotel manager will have a luggage porter waiting at the tramcar station. See the Plan facing p. 400.

The train now enters the Osakayama Tunnel, emerges in the historic Yamashiro Province, and descends between hills clothed with thick growths of pine and bamboo, and heavy with the bones of long dead emperors and other imperial personages. 306 M. Yamashina is the point of departure for the historic old temple of Daigo-ji (Rte. 27).

The train hurries through the downward sloping suburbs to the Kamo-gawa Bridge (396 ft.), then draws in to the (311 M.) Kyoto Station with its motley throng of priests and pilgrims from almost every corner of the Empire. For a continuation of the journey to Osaka and Kobe, see Rte. 36.