There our
guide has laid for us a tempting lunch brought from the hotel at
Yokohama. Tea and service is offered us by most graceful Japanese
waitresses, who have no hesitation in assisting our gentlemen change
their clothing for the bathing suit, that they may follow them to the
water's edge to see them sport like fish in the bright blue waters, and
were it not for the pestiferous fleas, one might declare the excursion
perfect.

The journey to Niko by rail is most diversified, shaded for miles by the
Cryptomeria trees. The pear tree, trellised with its luscious fruit
somewhat like our Russet apple or a taste akin to watermelon, is seen.
The day's journey is made all the more agreeable by the luncheon of
quail sandwiches, fruits and hot tea, the latter made by our guide in
our compartment. At five-thirty o'clock in the evening we arrive at the
Hotel Niko, the weather cold and rainy, a poor table and damp,
uninviting apartments. A brazier is at the solicitation of the guests
placed in the drawing room. There we barter all evening with natives for
furs of the monkey, idols of ivory and objects of interest of wood and
bronze. The trip to Lake Chuzendi, eight miles from Niko, is made by
chairs and jinrikishas carried and drawn by the coolies. For our party
of four we take two chairs and three jinrikishas and seventeen
coolies--four for each chair, two to pull and one to push the
jinrikishas. The third jinrikisha is for our guide and hamper of
provisions. The road zigzags in many turns up the steep sides of the
mountain, followed by a dashing stream issuing from Lake Chuzendi, known
as "Kenon-no-taks," which falls in beautiful cascades and seethes over
the dizzy heights, while our sturdy pullers keep up a tremendous pace
with a continuous cry of warning to a chance pedestrian or cart of a
street vender, whom we meet on the narrow ledges drawn by the same
patient coolie. Baskets hung on a pole and borne by two men often
contain a native woman and perhaps a child; mules with panniers so large
filled with vegetables and merchandise that you can scarcely see the
poor animal, slowly plodding along this highway led by a woman or more
often a small boy with a rain cloak of straw and a wide brimmed hat of
the same material, which are so cumbersome that you look almost in vain
for the wearer. We dismount wherever a fine view is obtainable, and
invariably find a tea house. Attentive waitresses, clad in their bright
kimonas, regale yo