e not making complete signs, but just doing one
stroke again and again, all over a large sheet of paper, and when they
have learnt that they will go on to another, until one complete symbol
is mastered. The writing is done by brush-work instead of with a pen,
and is more like artistic painting than stiff writing. Suddenly the
teacher gives a signal, and the tiny tots rush out into the air, and
dance and play and run and twiddle each other round and round like
little kittens; they are so gay and so bright it is quite evident that
Japanese children are not ill-treated.

It is with great reluctance we pick up our luggage, pay our very
moderate bill, and leave this dear little village. Whatever else fades
out of our minds as time goes on I am sure the picture of those gay
children will never be forgotten.

[Illustration: AN INDIAN RESERVATION.]

CHAPTER XXIX

THOUSANDS OF SALMON

We dawdled so long in the quaint and charming country of Japan that it
was full summer when we left. As the inverted fan of Fujiyama faded
gradually into nothingness against the illimitable spaces of the sky, we
said again and again _sayonara_, which is the musical Japanese word
meaning good-bye, for we felt we were taking leave of an old friend.
Japan is on the other side of the world from England; shall we ever get
there again?

Then came the voyage across the Pacific and the landing at Victoria, the
chief town on the great island of Vancouver, which lies off the west
coast of Canada. It is always a little confusing to people who have not
visited this part, because there are two Vancouvers: one the great
island which blocks the western coast of Canada, and the other the town
lying on the eastern side of the narrow straits, on the mainland.

Well, here we are in Victoria, and the astonishing homeliness of it
gives us both a warm feeling of delight. It seems as if we really had
got almost in touch with our own country again. As we wandered through
the town to-day we saw in the outskirts red-brick creeper-covered houses
that might have been in an English market town. In spite of all its
trams and docks and general go-aheadness Victoria is old world. We
visited a place called Esquimault, by tram-car, and saw there British
ships of war and many other kinds of craft. Now we are back in the
hotel, and in our cosy bedroom there is little to remind us we have
still a continent and ocean between us and our beloved little island.

What are