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The National Geographic Magazine 



reason, probably, they are the most 

 zealous and numerous visitors now. Be- 

 fore Dr Dresser's visit in 1878, who 

 went at the request of the Japanese gov- 

 ernment to view its art treasures, only 

 three foreigners had visited Mount Koya, 

 and their numbers were rarely equaled 

 for many years afterwards. Until the 

 railway penetrated the valley of the Kin- 

 okawa, there was a long jinrikisha ride 

 of forty miles preceding the steep climb 

 on foot or the penitential ride in kago 

 for nine miles up the steep side of Koy- 

 asan. 



The last part of the ascent is very steep. 

 It needed all of Kobo Daishi's engineer- 

 ing skill to lead the path up by forty- 

 eight turns. Wherefore it is called the 

 I-ro-ha-zaka, in allusion to his arrange- 

 ment of the syllabary beginning with 

 those characters. The kago, which is a 

 luxury of comfort for the Japanese, with 

 their flexible, well-trained joints and 

 philosophic, acquiescent temperament, is 

 a penance for all his sins to the foreigner 

 with his useless bulk and unaccommodat- 

 ing knee-joints, and he is usually willing 

 to acquire merit by climbing that last half 

 mile of the I-ro-ha-zaka on foot. 



A rude temple to Fudo guards the 

 black back gateway, and everyone pauses. 

 A discriminating pair of priests appraise 

 and classify arriving pilgrims, and one is 

 billeted, as his consequence and quality 

 or his credentials declare; either to the 

 gold-walled, silk-bordered mats of the 

 abbot's palace, to lesser monasteries, or 

 to the plain houses for the plainest people 

 attached to the plainest establishments. 

 The unknown foreigner and his profes- 

 sional guide are usually assigned to the 

 least pretentious places, bundled in with 

 Osaka shop-keepers, and rated with the 

 lower middle classes generally. Save 

 when he comes directly accredited by 

 some other religious establishment or offi- 

 cial patron, the rooms closed in with 

 priceless gold-leaf screens, with Chinese 

 paintings in the recess of honor, are not 

 for the casual barbarian, with his clutter 

 of baggage and belongings, his lunch 

 basket, his coffee-pot, his greasy stuffs. 



his innumerable tools for eating, his dis- 

 orderly, crumb-scattering habits, his mo- 

 nopoly of a whole room for his one in- 

 ferior person. The priests expect all 

 visitors to conform to the strict rules of 

 monastic life and their vegetarian diet, 

 since all who come are entertained with- 

 our charge. 



THE SERVICES IN THE CHAPEL 



While we dined in space and seclusion, 

 conversation toned down by our religious 

 surroundings and great fatigue, a merry 

 chatter came from rooms beyond, where 

 assembled visitors were grouped sociably 

 at the evening meal, all of whom had 

 walked the steep miles up the mountain, 

 bringing tablets or relics. When the 

 Taiko's great bell boomed softly nine 

 times from the fortress-like bell tower, 

 there was a scurrying of feet and bang- 

 ing of screens, and the priest came to re- 

 quest any visitors to withdraw, before 

 the outer gate was barred for the night. 

 The clear ringing notes of a small silver 

 gong summoned all the monastery com- 

 pany to the chapel for the regular even- 

 ing service or mass for the dead souls 

 whose tablets are guarded there. 



We followed our young priest to the 

 two halls of service, each with elaborate 

 Shingon altars, richly painted ceilings, 

 with ranks and rows of gold-lettered ihais 

 completely hiding the walls. Some ihais 

 were enclosed in reliquaries, and food 

 offerings were ranged on shelves below 

 all the ihai. A frieze-like curtain of gold 

 brocade surrounded each hall and long 

 banners and strips of the glistening fabric 

 hung against the pillars and columns, all 

 finished with gilded bells and metal orna- 

 ments. The head priest, in his yellow 

 robes, over which he had thrown a bro- 

 cade cloak (kesa) of flame color shot with 

 gold and caught with huge purple cord' 

 knots, sat beneath a red and gold balda- 

 chin, with the low table before him cov- 

 ered with an elaborate Shingon altar 

 service. Five priests on either side 

 sat statuesque in ceremonial dress, chant- 

 ing responses and striking silver-toned 

 cymbals at intervals. The high priest 



