SOUTHERNMOST JAPAN 163 



To-day the island is not greatly changed from its condition at the 

 time when the first Europeans came to its coast. Few foreigners have 

 been there since, and on going there one in a measure reexperiencea 

 the impressions that must have come to those early navigators, and 

 presents a somewhat similar appearance to the present inhabitants as 

 did those first foreigners to the earlier generation. The people live in 

 a world of their own, and are connected with the mainland — a mainland 

 that is itself an island — merely by a little one-hundred-ton steamer that 

 runs with a reliable lack of regularity. 



The sixty-mile ride out to sea from Kagoshima on this steamer was 

 to be an all-night one. We purchased the best accommodations to be 

 had and were ofiE down the bay in the evening. The process on board- 

 ing a boat in Japan, after taking a sampan or scow out from the land- 

 ing to where the boat is moored, is first to see to the safe storage of 

 one's heavy baggage, and then, taking ofE one's shoes, and bowing the 

 head, to enter the little door of the cabin that serves as sitting-room, 

 dining and bedroom for those of the class to which one's ticket entitles 

 him. Bowing the head is in this case not an act of politeness but 

 merely of practical utility in preserving one's cranium and temper, and 

 a practise that a foreigner in Japan learns to remember after many 

 daily lessons. After one has entered, the act of kneeling and bowing 

 to the floor as a greeting to those already present is an act of politeness 

 which though dispensable is always appreciated by the Japanese. In 

 the present case the cabin measured twelve feet by seven, and five feet 

 in height, and already five men were squatting on the floor with their 

 personal baggage, preparing to make a night of it. Presently four 

 more came in and that made us twelve, a good-size company for such 

 a cubby hole. Each spread his blanket down in the little crevice that 

 was left for him, and as he tired of the talk and of the smoking — one 

 can imagine how much the volume of smoke poured forth by each of 

 the Japanese, with the exception of our friend, added to the general 

 comfort — each cuddled down, sardined himself in, and was lulled to 

 sleep by the chunk, chunk of the machinery, the occasional tapping of 

 some lingering smoker's pipe on the bronze brazier, and the cradling 

 of the boat as it stood out into the rough, splashing waters of the strait. 



Early morning brought us in view of the low, forested sky line of 

 Tane gashima, and we were soon rowed ashore across the little bay of 

 Akaogi, or Nishi-no-omote, where the port and largest village is 

 marked by a group of huts along the coral-strewn beach. We left our 

 belongings on the beach, and threading our way through the gathering 

 crowd of men and boys, and women and girls with babies on their 

 backs, who were flocking to see us, we went to a little inn to make 

 arrangements for a stay. 



The yadoya, or inn, is one of the most typical and interesting insti- 



