Blue waters and green and the Far East today . ing here. Even the carpenter pullsthe plane toward him instead of pushing it, and theybuild the roof first, the house afterward. The canal leaves the lake at a little fishing-villagecalled Otsu, and on the hills above is the old Mijideratemple, one of the oldest in Japan, before which is agigantic live-oak said to be the oldest tree in Japan,and it looks it. The view from the temple platform,of the lake winding away beyond eyeshot, the sur-rounding hills covered with rice and tea, the busylife of the lake, the little village below, make a pic-ture
Blue waters and green and the Far East today . ing here. Even the carpenter pullsthe plane toward him instead of pushing it, and theybuild the roof first, the house afterward. The canal leaves the lake at a little fishing-villagecalled Otsu, and on the hills above is the old Mijideratemple, one of the oldest in Japan, before which is agigantic live-oak said to be the oldest tree in Japan,and it looks it. The view from the temple platform,of the lake winding away beyond eyeshot, the sur-rounding hills covered with rice and tea, the busylife of the lake, the little village below, make a pic-ture purely Japanese. When we took our seats in the boat for the canaltrip, our hearts sunk just a little. A railway tunnelis bad enough, but somehow this dark stream thatjust before us plunges into a low cavern cut in a loftybill, was rather gloomy-looking. Two boatmen withan oar in the stern steer the boat and the swift cur-rent does the rest. We darted down between highbanks crowned with great cryptomeria trees, shot [248] 13SO o g w MS?0 rw. JAPAN into the vault, and the daylight was gone. Wecould touch the damp roof overhead. An occasionalsprinkle of water penetrating some crevice in theskin of the tunnel was not reassuring. A paperlantern on the bow with a candle in it was the onlylight, for the tunnel entrance vanished quickly. Thelow talk of the boatmen, the ripple of the subter-ranean stream, resounded in the vault with startlingsonority. Far off we saw another tiny light, and in a momentswept by another boat loaded with freight coming upagainst the stream. Two coolies, a man and a woman,naked to the waist, pulled it by a chain fastened tothe wall of the tunnel. Twice we passed loaded boatsgoing down with the current. About midway a nar-row shaft from the top of the mountain supplies thetunnel with air. We were in the tunnel only twentyminutes, but it seemed hours. We were on thefabled Styx, bound for some nether world, peopledwith Shades like ourselves, Charon at the oar,
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