up in kagos, as was the case with two of our little
party. The kago is a sort of palanquin borne on the shoulders of four
stout men, the path being impracticable even for mules; but were it less
steep and wider, the Japanese have no mules.

When we came down that five-mile reach by daylight, we saw and realized
all the beauties which had been hidden from us under the inky cloak of
night during the toiling ascent. The scenery was lovely, sometimes
grand, often fantastic; and for the first time we heard the clear
ringing notes of the little Japanese nightingale. Watching the
exquisitely feathered bamboos in green clusters, camellias on trees
thirty feet high, the tall, slim, but graceful pines, the rocks fringed
with lichens and mosses, mingled with the rarest of ferns, fresh and
bright after the rain, kept the eye busy with delight. Now and then we
gathered the delicate maiden-hair ferns for a backing, and made bouquets
from the white, blue, and pink wild flowers that bloomed by the wayside.
They were not fragrant, though among them were blue-eyed violets, but
they were beautiful as they were frail. Deep gorges lined the way, here
and there relieved by sunny slopes of soft, bright green; while the
music of a tumbling cascade, hidden by the dense wood, occasionally fell
upon the ear. The sweet morning air was both a physical and mental
tonic. All was so enjoyable, so inspiring, that the ladies broke forth
in carols like the very birds among the branches.

After reaching the foot of the mountain we found our jinrikisha men,
each with his little chaise, ready to trot off for Yokohama, about
thirty-five miles distant. Along the road, as we progressed, evidences
met the eye of fine agricultural results; the fields and meadows were
cultivated to the highest point, entirely by hand. No plows are used;
every foot of the soil is spaded by men and women. We were told that it
was rather late in the season for the cotton to remain unharvested, but
the thrifty fields showed us an abundant crop of the yellow-white
vegetable fleece, in little balls like Marshal Niel roses. The absence
of domestic cattle was conspicuous. A few cows and sheep, browsing here
and there, would have completed a delightful picture of rural life.
Occasionally, when the men stopped at a wayside tea-house for a cup of
their simple beverage, the only stimulant or refreshment they desired,
we walked on in advance of them, observing the snowy head of Fujiyama,
th