Viburnum, which has a liane-like habit and clambers up high trees. At the end of the track lies a group of houses for the people who are beginning to work the mine, the little wooden dwellings surrounded by the limitless, untouched forest, and standing on its very visible remains in the clearing. More bowing, kindness, and talk, the Manager giving me for my absolute use and sole habitation his very own house, where things are surprisingly pretty and comfortable. As I am the first foreigner many of the work-people have seen, a certain amount of staring was done, though they are by no means so rude as some travellers would have us believe.

We went through the forest and up the river prospecting, and found scrambling along the steep banks of friable shale by no means easy; but the escort assists me greatly, and one of them carries me on his back on the frequent occasions when it is necessary to cross the river. The only use the policeman has been so far, was to lend his sword to cut chop-sticks, which had been forgotten, and of course we had no knives and forks with us at all, for I have learnt to get on very comfortably without.

August 23.—A long day going up-stream collecting nodules, which are very big and very hard to break. The scenery up the rivers, with the magnificent forests, is very fine. It is a curious sensation to be in the midst of this boundless forest and see peak after peak densely clad by trees which no man has touched. Trouble with the coolies—a traveller hasn’t all his time to gaze at Nature.

August 24.—Really it is hard work to carry tents and everything along these rivers. Often I alone find it difficult to go, and I have nothing to carry—except my fan and my hammer, both of which are in constant use. Sometimes it would be impossible to go where we have been with boots, the straw sandals give such a clinging grasp that we are able to get a foothold on a steep rock which in boots it would be mad to attempt.

Fortunately the river into which one would be precipitated is seldom deep enough to be dangerous. The day’s scientific results are solid, but not thrilling. Tents are a luxury, but I would rather sleep out under the stars. With all these coolies and people I am not allowed to do my own cooking, but I most fervently wish I might. The food is rendered needlessly trying by their attempts at European cooking—but they mean so well! They even carried a chicken for my consumption, but will only cook it for ten minutes, so it is as hard as the stones we are hunting for.

August 25.—This morning the whole party got up very early and went off fishing in the river. Line fishing being slow, they used dynamite, which is against the law of the land. However, it was suggested by our policeman that the method should be used, and he provided the dynamite! As he was the only representative of the law within miles, our consciences were clear. They chose a deep still part of the river, the dynamite exploded with foam, and many dead fish floated up, which the coolies plunged into the water to obtain. Our breakfast trout were very fresh, and tasted delicious after being roasted on sticks over the camp-fire. The camp is on a tiny island mid-stream, and with the white tent, and the shelter of boughs for the coolies, is extremely picturesque. On the bank opposite, luxuriant trees and ferns hang over the clear water; if I were only here unofficially I should be perfectly happy. It is a curious feeling being the leader of an expedition and being fussed after so much, and determining whether a dozen men shall go up-stream or down, sleep here or walk on farther. We are returning to the little coal mine settlement of Ōyubari to-night, after collecting a good many specimens.

COOKING THE BREAKFAST FISH ROUND THE CAMP FIRE

August 26.—We went into the Ōyubari mine. One of its seams is 22 feet thick. There are quite simple workings, and no fossils. We then returned along the track in trucks to meet the train for Yubari, where I examined the rubbish tip of the mines, without much success. The policeman never leaves me, and scrambles up and down the stones after me with an extremely amused smile. The whole expedition causes him considerable trouble, but also it is a source of many future jokes and stories, for him as well as for me. To-day he was dressed in the dignified flowing robes of grey and black silk worn by Japanese gentlemen (policemen are of a much higher class here than with us), and he looked far too beautiful to mess about the coal. (He is pictured in the photograph which faces p. 12.)

MY POLICEMAN IN HIS PRIVATE DRESS

August 27.—Mining and river work.

August 28.—We came to Poronai, which is often called Horonai, as no Japanese name begins with P, and the word being Aino it is softened in this way. The distance traversed was really very small, but mountains and other things interfered, so that it took a long time to get here. I went down the coal mine, which is very interesting. I proved to be a source of intense excitement to the natives, who crowded round in tiers, and formed a sea of faces with round staring eyes. The policemen frequently drove them off in a friendly way.

August 29.—Rather a sad day. Mr. Y——, my trusty and well-beloved friend, was called away by telegram to Hakodate, where a fearful fire has practically swept the town away, destroying more than fourteen thousand buildings, and among them all the property of his parents and other relatives. To look at the outer man, with his long arms and legs sticking out beyond a white suit, 6 inches too small in every direction, with several patches on his knees, and his hideous tie sticking straight out in front of him as he walks through the streets of the capital of Hokkaido, no one could imagine him to be a Professor. After a glance at his quaint eyes, twinkling in his comical face above his spectacles, one might suspect him of having a character, but after travelling with him as I have done for these two weeks, under very unusual circumstances, it is easy to recognise and admire his exceptional character. He is one of the small dozen of men whom I really like and respect. Now he is gone, and I must wrestle with an escort which cannot speak as much English as I can Japanese, which latter is next to nothing. The complexities of life are bad enough when one travels with a policeman, a land-surveyor, a special courier and correspondent, an interpreter, a local guide, and half a dozen coolies, all in one’s private train! But when the interpreter is the one to be snatched away, they are rather worse. Without him we went a stiff journey to-day, over a track 6 inches wide, through the mountains. The sasa grows solidly over the whole land, usually shoulder high, but often over my head, and the path is only on the ground, and is usually quite invisible—one’s feet feel it, but one’s eyes cannot see it. A hatefully prickly shrub and thick tangles of vine complicate matters further. And an English botanist before my start said that Japanese vegetation was like English! This endless sasa and forest goes on for miles, broken only by the streams. Down some of the streams we walked, where blue hydrangeas and