京都から伏見・桃山・宇治経由で奈良へ

33. From Kyōto via Fushimi, Momo-yama, and Uji, to Nara.

Kyōto-Nara-Takada Section of the Kansai Line; Imperial Gov't Railway. 26 M. Frequent trains (from the Kyōto Station, Pl. C, 5) in 1 1/4 hrs. For fares see the Rly. Time Table.

The train runs southward through the tawdry suburb over a flattish country diapered with truck-gardens and watered

by the Kamo-gawa. The Tōji Pagoda is passed (right), then (left) the big Kenshi-bōseki (spinning-mill). 2 M. Fushimi, a low-lying suburban town (pop. 25,000) on the right bank of the Uji River (the Seta-gawa at Lake Biwa, and the Yodo-gawa at Ōsaka), was an important place during the early life of Kyōto — the scene of much Imperial pomp and glitter, and the theater of numerous decisive battles. No vestige remains of its former greatness, but the ruins of an early Tokugawa castle can still be traced. Tea plantations extend beyond the town and up the gentle slope to the yet more historic (4 M.) Momo-yama, or "Peach Hill," so called for the many peach trees which grow on its slopes. It is a favorite haunt of Kyōto folks, thousands of whom foregather here (tramway) in spring to witness the beautiful display of blossoms, and in the autumn to see the turning maple leaves. A half-mile from the station, at the crest of the hill on the site of Toyotomi Hideyoshi's "Peace Palace" (erected in 1594 at a cost of 6 million yen), commanding a superb view across the historic Yamato Plain, over the winding Uji River to the distant Otoko-yama and its picturesque Hachiman Shrine, is the massive mausoleum (Momo-yama goryō) of the late Meiji Tennō.

Peach Hill was known anciently as Fushimi-yama, and for more than a thousand years it has reflected Kyōto's greatness. Already heavy with the bones of long-dead Mikados, it was the scene, at 11 o'clock on the night of Sept. 14, 1912, of one of the most gorgeous and singularly impressive ceremonies ever witnessed in New Japan. To the distant crashing and the reverberating roar of minute-guns; the wailing of bugles and the booming of gigantic temple bells; to the sound of the wild minstrelsy of priests and bonzes, the pattering of a weeping, drenching rain and the sighing of a vast concourse of mourning people, — Japanese and foreigners alike, — the mortal remains of Mutsuhito, the 123d Mikado, of the 68th generation from Jimmu Tennō, were laid tenderly in their last resting-place. Squads of soldiers and civilians, priests and laymen, foreign diplomats and servants of the Imperial Household, — many holding sputtering pine torches on high to light the strange cortège, — awaited the arrival from Tōkyō of the funeral train — the first steam railway train ever to bear a Mikado to his grave! From the station a hundred picked men carried the wonderful catafalque to the sepulcher, into which the coffin was lowered over an inclined track.

The Imperial Casket reposes in a splendid sarcophagus of polished granite from Sanuki Province (Shikoku), 20 ft. below the surface of the ground, walled about by several feet of specially prepared charcoal to exclude moisture. Covering this is a thick shell, like an inverted bowl, of concrete, and 300,000 pebbles and boulders. The inclosure (140 by 170 yds.) is encircled by a granite wall 5 ft. high pierced by a gate bearing the 16-petal chrysanthemum crest. Within are torii and a pair of stone lanterns inscribed (in the handwriting of Prince Kan-in) with the words "Fushimi Momoyama Goryō." In obedience to a very old funeral custom, 4 clay images 2 ft. 5 in. high, clad in ancient armor and called haniwa, stand at the corners of the coffin, and represent the samurai or other retainers who anciently were buried alive with the Emperor whom in life they had served. Near them are deposited branches of the quasi-sacred Cleyera japonica, spears, shields, bows, arrows, and the like. Shintō ceremonials accompanied the interment, which, coupled with the elaborate functions at Tōkyō and the cost of the tomb, represented an outlay of nearly two million yen!

The spectacle at the national capital was indubitably the most splendidly impressive one ever witnessed in Nippon. Foreigners who saw it will scarcely be able to forget it. Special ceremonies were held over the remains in a sumptuous shrine erected for the occasion at the Aoyama Cemetery, and when the

vanguard of the procession reached this point the rear end was still at the Imperial Palace, 3 miles away. Hosts of funeral commissioners, guards of honor carrying symbolical banners or torches, musicians, chamberlains, ritualists, soldiers, police, cowherds, and what-not figured in the strange assembly, along with chests for bows and arrows, and many curious relics of feudal days. The magnificent and resplendent funeral-car was drawn by two cream-white oxen, while 3 others were held in reserve. A special funeral-train, preceded by another to clear the way, carried the remains to the ancient capital, and from 11 p.m. to 12.40 a.m. the guns from 15 warships in Yokohama Harbor boomed a mournful requiem. For several days preceding the sepulture upward of 100,000 persons visited Momo-yama, and the monetary offerings (saisen) to the tomb amounted to about 8000 yen a day. Absolute silence was enjoined on the workmen while constructing the mausoleum, the stones of which are polished on both sides. The elaborate funeral-car (jusha) is preserved in the Imperial Museum at Tōkyō. A splendid palanquin carried on the shoulders of picked young men (Yase Dōji) from Yase-Ōhara village (about 5 M. to the N. of Kyōto), is now kept in the Kyōto Imperial Museum, and is called Sōka-ken or "Onion-flower Cart," from the resemblance of the hōshu-no-tama on the top to the onion flower. The mausoleum is guarded day and night, and relic-maniacs who do not repress acquisitive tendencies are subjected to harsh treatment. The group of ancient pines near the tomb have stood there since time immemorial. The tomb on the N. side of the hill is that of the Emperor Kwammu, the founder of Kyōto. — On the day of the State funeral three huge tortoises, on whose backs a record of the event had been written in black lacquer, were released and placed in the ocean off Ogasawara Island.

Beyond Momo-yama the rolling country is flecked with groves of the fine bamboo for which the region is known, and with thousands of knob-like tea-bushes. Plantations of these flank the meandering streams and bead the rly. while groups fill the back yards of the houses. The Uji River is crossed after leaving the unimportant station of Kobata.

9 M. Uji (pop. 3000), a pretty town (Kikuya Hotel, small, ¥3) in Yamashiro Province, Kyōto Municipality, stands on the left bank of the river and has been celebrated for centuries for its fine tea. Some very choice varieties are grown here, and an irregular stone monument (erected in 1887) in the grounds of the local temple refers to its introduction (comp. p. cvi). In April the wealth-producing bushes are sheltered from the ardent sun by straw mats and they then present a curious spectacle. In May, when the picking of the leaves is in progress, the hill-slopes flame with brightly colored costumes of the maids and matrons engaged in the task. Late in autumn the same women thresh out the mature rice-straw with primitive flails and add picturesqueness to the landscape.

Uji came into prominence in the 7th cent. when the bonze Daichō constructed the historic Uji-bashi, the prototype of the present bridge spanning the river at the left of that of the rly. Its situation on the S., or Nara, side of the stream, gave it considerable strategic value and made it the center of many hard-fought battles between political aspirants. That of A.D. 1180, between Taira Tomomori at the head of 20,000 men, and the valiant Minamoto Yorimasa (then 75 yrs. of age), is still commemorated. The vigilant Yorimasa had

taken advantage of a heavy fog to remove the planking from the bridge, and when 200 or more of the Taira horsemen galloped on to it they plunged through and were drowned. This so enraged the Taira that in a desperate attempt to capture the wily old warrior they shot him through with an arrow. Dragging himself to the Byō-dō-in, Yorimasa stripped himself of his armor, seated himself upon his iron fan, and calmly disemboweled himself (the 2d instance of harakiri on record). His two sons and most of his devoted followers perished with him. Relics of the tragedy are enshrined in the temple. This historic structure, ascribed to Fujiwara Yorimichi when he turned bonze in 1052, is the property of the Tendai sect and is one of Uji's chief "sights." The Hōō-den (Phoenix Hall), a duplicate of which was exhibited at the World's Fair in Chicago in 1893, is now too badly decayed to be of great interest. Several quaint monuments stand in the town and point to its past greatness.

Uji is perhaps best known to foreigners for the curious Hotaru-Kassen, or Battle of the Fireflies, a spectacular event occurring usually about June 10 of each year, near midnight. Special trains are run on the rly., and thousands of persons come hither from Kyōto (tram-cars), Ōsaka, Kobe, and nearby cities to witness the brilliant struggle. By bespeaking a boat (scarce at this time) from the hotel one can make the trip as a short excursion from Kyōto. The battle (one of the strangest sights in a strange country) occurs on the river between Uji and Fushimi, about 1 1/2 hrs. boat ride from the former place, at a point where the stream winds between hills. The uncounted millions of sparkling insects produce a scene of bewildering beauty as they wheel and circle against the velvety background of night, and the scores of illuminated boats on which there are dancing and singing, geisha, music, and jollity, add to the charm. When the fireflies have assembled in force myriads dart from either bank and meet and cling above the water. At moments they so swarm together as to form what appears to the eye like a luminous cloud, or like a great ball of sparks. The cloud soon scatters, or the ball drops and breaks upon the surface of the current, and the fallen fireflies drift glittering away; but another swarm quickly collects in the same locality. People wait all night in boats upon the river to watch the phenomenon. After the Hotaru-Kassen is done, the river is covered with the still sparkling bodies of the drifting insects. Then the natives refer poetically to the stream as the "Milky Way," the "River of Heaven," etc.

Two species of fireflies or luciola (sometimes called lightning-bugs) have a wide distribution in Japan, where they have been popularly named Genji-botaru (Minamoto-Firefly) and Heike-botaru (Taira-Firefly) — from the legend to the effect that they are the ghosts of the old Minamoto and Taira warriors. It is said that even in their insect shapes they remember the awful

clan-struggles of the 12th cent., and that because of this, once every year they fight the great battle on the Uji River. From this the natives believe that on that night all caged fireflies should be set free, in order that they may be able to take part in the contest. The Genji-botaru, the largest species in Japan proper, is found in almost every part of the country from Kyūshū to Mutsu; the Heike-botaru, which is smaller and which emits a feebler light, ranges farther N., being specially common in the colder island of Yezo; but it is found also in the central and southern provinces. Both have been celebrated in Japanese poetry from ancient times; and frequent mention of them is made in early prose. There is an old belief that the soul of a person still alive may sometimes assume the shape of a firefly, from which circumstance they are objects of special reverence. Firefly-hunting, as a diversion, is a very old custom; anciently it was an aristocratic amusement, and great nobles used to give firefly-hunting parties — hotaru-gari. Firefly-hunting at Uji reminds every cultured Japanese of the nationally celebrated love-story of Asagao and Asojirō — that plaintive tale which the gidayū singer renders with such pathos. All over Japan the children have their firefly hunts every summer, moonless nights being chosen for such expeditions. Girls follow the chase with paper fans; boys, with long light poles to the ends of which wisps of fresh bamboo grass are tied. While hunting the children sing little songs supposed to attract the shining prey (which exists in almost every locality under special folk-names).

Many persons earn their living during the summer months by catching and selling the larger species of fireflies. The chief center of the industry is in the region about Ishiyama, near the Lake of Ōmi, where a number of houses, each of which employs three- or fourscore catchers during the busy season, supply fireflies to many parts of the country, and especially to the great cities of Kyōto and Ōsaka. Some training and a knowledge of the habits of the insects are required for the occupation. Fireflies dislike certain trees and are attracted by others. They avoid pine trees, and they will not light upon rosebushes. Upon weeping willow trees they gather in swarms, and occasionally, on a sultry night in summer, one may see a drooping willow so covered and illuminated with fireflies that all its branches appear to be "budding fire." A tyro might find it no easy matter to catch a hundred fireflies in a single night; but an expert has been known to catch 3000. The methods of capture, while simple enough, are effective — and interesting. "Immediately after sunset the firefly-hunter goes forth with a long bamboo pole upon his shoulder, and a long bag of brown mosquito-netting wound, like a girdle, about his waist. When he reaches a wooded place frequented by fireflies, — usually some spot where willows are planted, on the bank of a river or lake, — he halts and watches the trees. As soon as these begin to twinkle satisfactorily, he gets his net ready, approaches the most luminous tree, and with his pole strikes the branches. The fireflies, dislodged by the shock, do not immediately take flight, as more active insects would do under like circumstances, but drop helplessly to the ground, beetle-wise, where their light — always more brilliant in moments of fear or pain — renders them conspicuous. If suffered to remain upon the ground for a few moments they will fly away. But the catcher, picking them up with astonishing quickness, using both hands at once, deftly tosses them into his mouth, — because he cannot lose the time required to put them, one by one, into the bag. Only when his mouth can hold no more, does he drop the fireflies, unharmed, into the netting. Thus the firefly-catcher works until about 2 o'clock in the A.M., — the old Japanese hour of ghosts, — at which time the insects begin to leave the trees and seek the dewy soil. There they are said to bury their tails, so as to remain viewless. But now the hunter changes his tactics. Taking a bamboo broom he brushes the surface of the turf, lightly and quickly. Whenever touched or alarmed by the broom, the fireflies display their lanterns, and are immediately nipped and bagged. A little before dawn the hunters return to town."

At the firefly-shops the captured insects are sorted as soon as possible according to the brilliancy of their light (hotarubi) — which Japanese observers have described as cha-iro (tea-colored), because of its likeness to the clear, greenish-yellow tint of the infusion of Japanese tea of good quality. (The light of the Genji firefly is so brilliant that only a keen eye can detect the greenish color; at first sight the flash appears as yellow as the flame of

a wood-fire.) They are then put into gauze-covered boxes or cages (hotaru-kago) of one or two hundred each (according to grade) along with a quantity of moistened grass. Great numbers are ordered for display at evening parties in the summer season. The wholesale price ranges from 3 to 15 sen a hundred, and the retail price from 5 sen (for a modest cage containing 3 or 4 insects) to several yen (for the tasteful bamboo cages made in the form of junks, temple-lanterns, and what-not). Restaurant-keepers purchase largely. A large guest-room in a native house usually overlooks a garden; and during a banquet or other evening entertainment, given in the sultry season, it is customary to set fireflies at liberty in the garden after sunset, so that the visitors may enjoy the sparkling. In certain of the well-known tea-houses of Kyōto, Ōsaka, and Tōkyō, a myriad of the delicate insects are kept in garden plots inclosed by mosquito-netting; customers of the houses are permitted to enter the inclosure and capture a certain number of fireflies to take home with them. Curious medicaments are obtained from the dead insects: one, called Hotaru-no-abura, or "Firefly-grease," is used by wood-workers for the purpose of imparting rigidity to objects made of bent bamboo.

According to Mr. Lafcadio Hearn, and Mr. Shozaburo Watase, — both authorities and both sometime lecturers in the Tōkyō Imperial University, — the morphology of fireflies discloses the fact that the number of light-pulsations produced by one species of Japanese firefly averages 25 per minute; and the rate suddenly rises to 63 per minute if the insect be frightened by seizure. A smaller kind will increase the number of light-pulsations to upward of 200 per minute. The light mechanism is one of amazing intricacy and beauty. "Frogs fill their cold bellies with fireflies till the light shines through them, much as the light of a candle-flame will glow through a porcelain jar." The firefly uses 96.5 per cent of its energy for light. "The lighting apparatus consists of the three lower segments of the abdomen. Dissection of the luminous part showed that there was a layer of light-producing material, a reflecting transparent layer and another layer of coloring material. These layers are penetrated by innumerable tiny tracheae or windpipes. The air is drawn in through the ordinary breathing passages, and then forced through the tiny windpipes on the light-producing tissue. There the oxygen of the air is consumed in a biologic oxidation."

From Uji the rly. continues S. over a pretty country flecked with bamboo groves and paddy-fields. The highway is good for automobiles. 11 M. Shinden. 13 M. Nagaike. In season the hill-slopes flame with ripening oranges, which here and there grow from the dikes separating the rice-plots. Many of the tasteless native pears are produced in the region. Several tunnels and the drab little stations of Tanakura and Kamikome mark the line beyond 17 M. Tamamizu. The rly. crosses the Kizu-gawa to 21 M. Kizu, the junction for Ise and Ōsaka, then traverses the flat country extending to 26 M. Nara (see below).