a village elder.

T H E A I N O S O F N O R T H E R N J A P A N .

B Y H E N R Y T . F I N C K .

THOUGH the gypsies are usuallyconsidered the most mysteriousrace in the world, the Japaneseempire includes among its sub-

jects a race which is a still greater eth-nologic curiosity; for the gypsies haveat last been traced definitely to India,while the origin of this branch of theJapanese people, the Yezo-jin, is stillshrouded in obscurity.

The name formerly given them wasEbisu, or barbarians, while to-day theyare known to foreigners as Ainos orAinu. They are rarely mentioned inthe travel sketches of visitors to Japan,for they are not to be seen along thebeaten tracks of globe-trotters. Even

to the natives in Tokio and other Japan-ese cities they are such an unusualsight that an Aino family is occasion-ally exhibited by an enterprising show-man as a rare curiosity. Indeed, al-though names and other relics of a morematerial nature prove that they onceinhabited all parts of the Japanese isl-ands, they are to be found to-day onlyon Yezo, the most northern of these isl-ands, and on the desolate Kurile Islands(or the “Smokers,” so called from theirnumerous volcanoes). Like our North-American Indians, they have beengradually driven to the northwest.About fifteen thousand of them now in-habit Yezo, living chiefly along the

114 OUTING FOR NOVEMBER.

coast on the proceeds of fishing, bear-hunting and primitive agriculture.

They are the wards of the Japanesegovernment, without political arrange-ments of their own, and show no rem-nant of the war-like spirit which, until athousand years ago, led them to revolt.

Professor Chamberlain, of theUniversity of Tokio, says of the

Japanese. S o m e o f t h e A i n o m e nactually have a covering half an inchlong all over the body, and all havemagnificent black beards, often over afoot long, giving them a most manlyand even majestic appearance. TheJapanese not only have smooth skins,

b u t a r e r a r e l y a b l e t o g r o w a

island home of the Ainos that“it is under snow and ice fornearly half the year, the nativeAinos tracking the bear anddeer across its frozen and path-less mountains like the cave-men of the glacia l age ofEurope.” And in anotherplace he remarks that theAinos are “distinguishedby a flattening of certainbones of the arm and leg,

pearance.

which has been observednowhere else except in

I f in th i s ma t t e r o fhairiness the advantagesand disadvantages seemto be about evenly di-vided, from our æsthetic

beard or an embryonic mustache.Japanese women would consider

the fa intest t race of hair ontheir lips a fatal blemish, whilethe Aino women are so anxiousto appear l ike the men thatthey have mustaches tattooed

on their lips, which gives thema singularly masculine ap-

the remains of some ofthe cave-men of Europe.” with tattooed mustache.

po in t o f v i ew , in thematter of cleanliness the

It was formerly supposed that theJapanese were, in part at least, of Ainostock, but this notion has been aban-doned, for it has been found that themixed breed of Japanese and Ainosbecomes unfruitful after a few genera-tions. The best authorities now believethat the modern Japanese come of amixture of Chinese and Malayan stock,with not more than a trace of Ainoblood. The origin of the Ainos is stillmore obscure. They themselves aresaid to have legends tracing it to a re-mote male ancestry of dogs and bears,a myth which may have been suggest-ed by the fact that the Ainos are prob-ably the hairiest people in the world.There is some force in Dr. Griffis’ as-sertion that if the Japanese were be-lievers in the Darwinian theory, an ideanot unknown in their speculations, theAinos would constitute the “missinglink” or “intermediate” between bruteand man.

One thing is certain. It is impossibleto look at a group of Ainos and believethat they have much in common withthe Japanese. Both races are indeedshort and dark, the Ainos being themore vigorous of the two, but in thegeneral cast of their features and intheir habits they are utterly unlike.What especially differentiates them isthe extreme hairiness of the Ainos ascompared with the smooth skin of the

least once a day in hot water, and

Japanese are infinitely superior. EveryJ ap , be he r i ch o r poor , ba the s a t

many indu lge in th i s l uxu ry th r eeo r f o u r t i m e s a d a y ; w h e r e a s t h eAinos never bathe at all, and seem tohave an unconquerable avers ion towater. In te rna l l y they p re f e r r i c ewine, and externally they never comein contact with water unless they arecompelled to swim an unbridged river,and they do this without removing theirclothing. Japanese women do not havethe slightest hesitation in exposing theirnude bodies to the gaze of men andwomen at the public baths, while theAino women have the same horror ofnudity that they have of water.

The adventurous Miss Bird, who spentseveral weeks among the Ainos, givesan amusing illustration of this trait:“Not only is the Aino woman com-pletely covered,” she writes, “but shewill not change one garment for anotherexcept alone or in the dark. Lately aJapanese woman at Sarufuto took anAino woman into her house and insistedon her taking a bath, which she abso-lutely refused to do till the bath-househ a d b e e n m a d e q u i t e p r i v a t e b ymeans of screens. When the Japanesewoman went back a little later to seewhat had become of her, she found hersitting in the water in her clothes, andon being remonstrated with she said that

T H E A I N O S O F N O R T H E R N J A P A N . 1 1 5

the gods would be angry if they saw herundressed!”

The first specimens of the Ainos Isaw were on the steamer which tookme to Yezo from Nippon, the largest ofthe Japanese is lands. I recognizedthem at a glance by their physique,features, eyes and beards, all of whichresemble those of Europeans much more

Although they chiefly dwell alongthe coast they are also, especially dur-ing the fishing season, to be found inconsiderable numbers along the banksof the numerous rivers which are bornin these rainy mountainous regions.While I was stopping at Takigawo, onone of these rivers, the affable ownerof the tea-house made me a present of

drinking to the gods.

than the corresponding Japanese feat-ures. In the larger cities of Yezo, suchas Hakodate and Sapporo, I did not comeacross any, and it was not till I madean expedition to the very center of theisland (which is of about the size ofIreland), that I was able to gratify mycuriosity regarding these gypsies ofJapan, as they might be called.

specimens of the bark which the Ainosuse for candles, and of one of the arrowheads with which they slay bears. Theyseem rather small and fragile, but itmust be remembered that the Ainosgenerally make their weapons moreeffective by using an aconite poisonwhich kills the strongest bear in a fewminutes. Bear-hunting in Yezo gains

116 O U T I N G F O R N O V E M B E R .

an added zest of danger from thecustom of setting traps with poisonedarrows, in the neighborhood of which,however, large wooden signs are putup in the shape of the letter T, to warnunwary hunters.

In his book on Japan, Mr. T. W. Blak-iston writes that bears are tolerablynumerous in Yezo, and that they areoften very destructive among horses, andoccasionally attack people: “Notwith-standing bears are so numerous in Yezo,the denseness of the underbrush andbamboo scrub is such that they are sel-dom seen, though their presence is notunfrequently made known by the rust-ling among the bushes, or the startingof horses, as the less frequented trailsare followed. Japanese travelers usuallykeep up a song in such places in order toscare the beasts away.”

Although I spent a whole week in thedensest part of the Yezo forest I did notsee a trace of a bear, except at the innat Takigawo, where the finest bear-skinI had ever seen was spread over themats in my room. Its body was a brown-ish black, but the head was of the purestgold, almost like a lion’s mane—a veryrare color; and the fur was so thick thatI found this skin more comfortable tosleep on than several mattresses. I of-fered the innkeeper twenty dollars forit. He said it was worth twenty-twodollars, but he would not part with itas it was an heirloom. I have since as-certained that in New York such a skinwould be worth one hundred and fiftydollars. Had I offered him thirty dol-lars I think he would have succumbed.I have come to the conclusion since thatignorance is not always bliss.

In the afternoon my host took me ashort distance to a hut occupied by threeAinos. This hut resembled the Indianhabitations in Alaska, with its centralfireplace and smoke-hole above, andthe arrangements for drying salmon,The three men were engaged in empty-ing an enormous kettle full of rice withchop sticks. Their limbs were hairy,their hair and beards long and thick,and, l ike their complexion, severalshades darker than those of the Japan-ese, reminding me altogether verystrongly of the Spanish gypsies nearGranada. I asked my host to send forsome rice wine for these Ainos, but theyshook their heads and would have noneof it. This was rather a surprise, for I

had read that the Ainos are greatly ad-dicted to drink, that they spend all theirgains on it, consider intoxication thehighest happiness, and drinking to thegods the most proper and devout wayof worshiping them. But a few judic-ious questions revealed the true inward-ness of their paradoxical temperance.They had been hired to work on theroad, and the contractor, being familiarwith Aino habits, had made them prom-ise not to drink. Gradually, however,they became assured that our intentionswere honorable, the wine was brought,and the three long-bearded men, onbeing told that it was “my treat,” bowedvery low and smiled gratefully on mebefore they filled their cups and eagerlyemptied them. On the way back to theinn my host took me to a shop andshowed, me some large round cakesmade of a powdered root and hard as abrick—the Ainos’ bread.

All this, however, was a mere fore-taste of what I was to see a few dayslater. The largest groups of Ainos areto be found in the villages scatteredalong the south coast of Yezo, east ofMororan, and on my way from Sapporoto Mororan I had to drive almost aday along this coast, in sight of the Pa-cific Ocean. I asked the driver wherethe largest Aino settlement was on ourroad, and he replied, “at Shiraoi,” add-ing that I would have plenty of time tosee them, as he a lways a l lowed hishorses to rest there for an hour.

Starting in the direction he pointed. Isoon came across Ainotown, which, asusual, was separated some little distancefrom the rest of the village. It con-sisted of a few irregular rows of strawhouses, of the most primitive construc-tion. I stopped at one of the first tolook in at the door, but saw nothing toreward this enterprise except the bareground with a single mat and a fireplacein the center. Nobody seemed to be athome, nor did I find anyone in the otherhouses I looked into. We met, however,several groups of women and childrenhastening toward the beach, and talkingso excitedly that they hardly paid anyattention to such a strange apparition asa foreigner. Suspecting that somethingunusually interesting was going on, Isought the beach and soon beheld a sightwhich made my heart leap for joy. Alarge whale had been cast ashore, andaround it were assembled all the Aino

an aino chief.

118 OUTING FOR NOVEMBER.

men, women and children of Shiraoi, really very pretty, with regular features,two hundred in all. I might have lived a light complexion and large, round, won-among these “savages” for weeks and dering black eyes. She was about thir-months without getting an equally fine teen. Two or three of the older onesopportunity to see them in their ele- also had pleasing features, and wouldment. It was the best bit of tourist’s have been pretty had it not been forluck that ever befel me.Indeed, the innkeepertold me that such ane v e n t o c c u r r e d b u trarely.

their atrocious tattooedmustaches.

The whale had beencast ashore during then i g h t , a n d b y e i g h to’clock in the morningeverybody had appearedto make the most of theopportunity. The whalehad been fastened by astrong rope to a stakedriven in the ground, toprevent it from, being

an aino matron.

washed out again. It was a monster—sixty feet long, as I was informedby two Japanese policemen who wereon the ground, presumably to pre-vent quarrels. It was no longer asf r e s h a s i t m i g h t h a v e b e e n ; t h ewaves had battered it considerably,and the odor it emitted was so strongand offensive that I had noticed it be-fore we drove into Shiraoi. But it didnot daunt the Ainos, who crowdedaround the carcass, brandishing longknives with which they cut off bigslices of flesh and blubber, retreatingevery moment with wild shouts when-ever a breaker dashed over the whale.Their faces were delightfully expressiveand animated with the excitement ofthe occasion, and seeing my chance Idashed reckless ly among them andsnapped my camera in every direction.Ainos, Ainos everywhere, in all possibleattitudes and groupings—did ever aphotographic fiend have such an oppor-tunity?

I took at least three dozen shots, andbefore long my presence with the mys-terious little black box, which I keptaiming at them, distracted the attentionof the younger ones, especially the girls,from the whale, and they watched mewonderingly, while some even followedme about. One young woman, appar-ently suspecting what I was doing, putup her hands before her face as I aimedat her; but too late—she did not know therapidity of instantaneous photography.Among the young girls was one who was

picnic in the

The women did theirpart of the work by tak-ing the chunks of fleshand blubber cut off bythe men and carryingthem out of the reachof the tide, where theywere piled up in severalplaces for future con-sumption. Whale, how-ever high, is considereda g r ea t de l i c a cy , andt h e y w e r e thereforepreparing for a grandafter-noon and evening,

at which, of course, the blubber wast o b e w a s h e d d o w n w i t h c o p i o u sd r a u g h t s o f r i c e w i n e . W h i l e t h eyounger men were engaged in cuttingup the whale, the older men and someof the women and children were squat-ting in groups on the sand, waiting forthe good things to come.

Of these groups the most interestingwas at the extreme left end, facing thesea. Here a dozen or more emblems ofAino gods—peeled and whittled stickswith the curled shavings hanging downfrom the top—had been placed in a row.These gods represent animals and theforces of nature, sun, air, water, etc. Be-side them were about twenty of the vil-lage elders , dignif ied old men withsplendid black beards and an intelligentcast of countenance which,probably deceptive. They were sitting

however, was

in a semi-circle, with their hands upliftedand waving in prayerful thanks for thegod-send on which they were about tofeast. Here was an opportunity—twenty superb specimens of the ab-original population of Japan sitting in anatural photographic group and need-ing no instructions regarding pose andexpression. I suppose it was a rudething to do, but I could not resist thetemptation to walk right up in front ofthe venerable group, and when I got tothe middle I took two shots at them asundemonstratively as possible.

At first they seemed surprised andinterested, and not at all indignant.

T H E A l N O S O F N O R T H E R N J A P A N . 119

But when I moved a few more stepstoward the religious sticks the chief gotup and with a smile and a motion of thehand begged me to keep away. Kindold fellow! I know I deserved a goodkicking for my impudence, but I baggedmy photographs in safety and congratu-lated myself on my rare luck. Indeedthe whole adventure had been a com-bination of lucky coincidences; in thefirst place—most marvelous of all—thatthe whale should have been beached ex-actly in front of the Aino village, of allthe miles and miles of coast; secondly,that it was customary for the stage tostop there for an hour; thirdly, that wecame along just on the right day and atthe right hour; fourthly, that we sawsome of the last parties hastening to thebeach, without which we might havemissed all; and, finally, that the sun

shone brightly enough to take goodphotographs, while an hour later cloudswere spread over the region and re-mained for two days.

The Aino gods, however, had theirrevenge for my irreverent act of pho-tographing the elders. The climatespoiled nearly all my pictures. I hadbeen warned when I left San Franciscothat if I wished to succeed in Japan asan amateur photographer I must do upmy films in air-tight wrappers. I didso, but even that was not sufficient pre-caution, for when the films were placedin the camera they were no longer pro-tected and the moist air damaged themso that the resulting pictures were littlemore than shadows. In winter theconditions are more favorable, and the

lent photographs.Japanese themselves take most excel-

aino dugouts.