THE GEOGRAPHY OF JAPAN" 



smoking, with the assurance that I should 

 thereby acquire those attributes of the 

 chamois most desirable in a climber — 

 nimbleness, strength, and mountaineering 

 skill.* 



They subsequently begged me, as I had 

 been fortunate enough to make the first 

 ascent of the mountain, to build on the 

 summit a shrine in honor of the Moun- 

 tain God, and myself to become its first 

 guardian priest. It always appealed to 

 me as the strangest offer of preferment 

 and the most singular proposal for 

 church-building that I ever received. 



A frequent cause of delay or ill-success 

 in exploring unfamiliar peaks in these 

 regions has been the inability to obtain 

 the help of the hunters, who alone know 

 the best approaches. A careful inquiry 

 usually led to the discovery either that 

 the men were afraid to bring an alien on 

 the sacred mountain, lest the mountain 

 spirits should in angry retaliation destroy 

 their crops, or that they were absent, en- 

 gaged in the rite of Amagoi, a service of 

 supplication in time of drought. 



This service usually consisted of light- 

 ing bonfires and discharging guns to draw 

 the attention of the god to the fire in 

 order that he might extinguish it by send- 

 ing the needed downpour of rain. 



But it is on Fuji-san itself that some 

 of the strangest of such experiences have 

 fallen to my lot. 



CLIMBING SNOW-CLAD FUJI 



Many years ago, with two Cambridge 

 friends, then visiting Japan, I climbed 

 the sacred mountain, snow-clad in early 

 spring. We had been warned by the vil- 

 lage priests and policemen that the anger 

 of the Goddess at such an untimely in- 

 trusion (for she was not "at home" to 

 visitors except in the depth of summer- 

 time) would surely make itself felt. 



As an actual fact, we had advanced 

 only a short distance when the weather 

 changed, a typhoon burst upon us, and 

 we were imprisoned for three days in 

 our bivouac half-way up the mountain. 

 However, after the storm came sun- 

 shine and with it a successful climb, 

 which did not bring us back to our vil- 



* For an account of a similar superstition 

 among primitive Koreans, see "Exploring Un- 

 known Corners of the Hermit Kingdom," in 

 The Geographic for July, 1914. 



lage friends again. Their kindly solici- 

 tude, however, soon rendered us the ob- 

 jects of public concern, and the "foreign" 

 newspapers forthwith honored us with 

 the following obituary notice, translated 

 from a well-known Japanese journal (the 

 Hochi Shimbun) : 



"The foreigners who started to ascend 

 Fuji with two coolies have not since been 

 heard of. The mountain is still covered 

 with snow, and as the summit was hidden 

 in clouds, the visitors were urged to post- 

 pone the attempt. But these foreigners 

 were determined to go. A few hours 

 afterwards the storm burst, dislodging 

 huge boulders and house roofs. 



"As nothing has since been heard of 

 them, it is feared they have succumbed 

 to the fury of the gale. Even had they 

 taken shelter, cold and starvation must 

 long since have rendered them helpless. 

 Their nationality is unknown, but Ave 

 surmise that they are British, for the rea- 

 son that the people of that nation like to 

 do that which is distasteful to them and 

 glory in their vigor !" 



TENTH CENTURY MEETS TWENTIETH ON 



There is one outstanding feature of 

 this beautiful and sacred mountain that 

 differentiates it from any other known ; 

 for there the unromantic realism and 

 materialism of the twentieth century 

 stretches out its hand across a thousand 

 years and draws the tenth century to its 

 side with all its old-world dreams and 

 communings. 



Almost at the very door of the most 

 sacred shrine on this holy peak the post- 

 office banner flutters in the breeze to 

 beckon the tired but triumphant pilgrim 

 to dispatch to the four corners of Japan 

 the picture postcard that shall announce 

 his successful toil. 



And as at early dawn you turn from a 

 surprised contemplation of the most up- 

 to-date installation of modern meteorol- 

 ogy on the crater's edge, your astonished 

 eyes are arrested and held with reverent 

 interest by the sight of the shivering 

 limbs and the adoring gaze of some aged 

 pilgrim, whose white-clothed form en- 

 shrines the flowing devotion of a prime- 

 val worship paid in all sincerity to the 

 splendors of the "Rising Sun." 



