be noticed, half-way up an
observatory in the distance, pointing out the direction of the fire.
The white building on the other side of the street is a fire-proof
storehouse, in which the public documents and valuables of the
district are deposited whenever a fire breaks out in it.

[Illustration: Yoshongyee and Kanabo. (Native drawing.)]

A Japanese 'Shecase,' or fire-brigade, passing silently along the
streets, lighted by its weird red-and-black distinguishing lanterns,
is a strange sight. Some of its members wear armour, with helmets and
black-lacquered iron visors, and carry 'martoe,' or 'fire-charms,' and
various necessary implements; others are clad in head-and-shoulder
pieces and gauntlets of light chain-armour, to protect them while
pulling down and unroofing houses, which is their especial duty. All
have a regular fire costume, from the 'Oki Yaconin,' or 'head man,' to
the bare-legged coolie, who carries the badge of the brigade in large
red characters on his back. On arriving at a fire, a _point de tete_
is selected--generally a house, on the roof of which the fire-charms
are immediately fixed, as if to forbid its further advance. These
charms (the circular white objects with black mouldings) have, of
course, as little effect on one element as Canute's celebrated
command had on another; but the people put such faith in their virtue
that their presence is a powerful auxiliary in prescribing the limits
of fires, which are rarely allowed to pass the bounds marked out by
them. The firemen fight with the flames as they close on the charms,
like men determined to stand by their colours to the last, rushing
into the burning houses, pulling them down, and drenching the blazing
thatch, with great courage and endurance. When, by thus putting their
shoulder to the wheel, the fire is fairly subdued, they turn round and
point exultingly to the martoe as the Hercules that has procured the
result. On one occasion, at a fire in the village of Omura, adjoining
Yokahama, the charms and their supporters were actually licked by the
flames from the house opposite to that on which they were fixed, whose
thatched roof was pulled off while in a state of rampant ignition by
fire-coolies, who with bare hands, and no other protection than their
saturated clothing, fought with the actual fire. One plucky fellow
fell through the roof while thus employed, and, as the spectators
still shuddered at his anticipated fate, rushed out apparentl