The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1894-10-13

Karuizawa is 5000 feet above it. The
journey from Tokyo can now be made
by rail. This is only since two years
ago however. Before that the railway
stopped at the foot of the pass ten
miles away. 1t began again on the
Karuizawa plain and continued to
the west coast. To connect these two
lines an immense engineering project
was set on foot, which required the
construction of twenty-six tunnels.
Meanwhile the traffic was carried on
by means of tramcars. Travellers
have need to be thankful that the
engineering project was success. A
three hours ride up mountain pass,
packed with dozen others in mere
box of a car, drawn by half-tame
horses on track of scarcely two feet
gauge, in charge of sleepy or reck-
less driver, and most of the time over
looking a precipice, is an occasion for
putting implicit trust in Providence.
Fortunately few, if any, serious acci-
dents occurred. Only once since l
have been in Japan did hear of such
an accident. One of these cars,
happily loaded only with freight, left
to itself and the horse by the sleeping
driver, in its downward journey
jumped the track and plunged over
the precipice. I need not tell the
fate of horse and driver. The railway
has changed all this. The journey
can now be made in comparative
safety, though it is not wholly COM
Portable. The traveller is well pre-
pared to enjoy the free air of this
mountain plain after breathing for
more than an hour the close air of
the tunnels.
I have limited at the natural at
fractions of the surrounding country.
To me the special scenic charm lies in
the peculiar combination of mountain
and plain. The scenery is ever fresh
and beautiful. The mountains never
lose their charm of varying light and
shadow. The country affords practi-
cally unlimited opportunity for either
pedestrians or equestrians. One may
choose the plain, crossed and re-
crossed by numerous paths, with the
flowers and grass around him and the
mountains above and beyond. Or
should his fancy turn that way, he
may wander for hours among the
mountains with their variations of
glen and spur and dashing brooks.
One might think the plain monoton-
Gus. Not SO. From summers be-
ginning to summers end it is living
panorama of flowers First the iris
sends up its purple spike, followed
by the wild pink SO carefully cult
waited in our New England gardens,
the mourning bride with it's delicate
lavender shade, blue bells of all sizes
and shapes, tall and queenly yellow
lilies, with now and then tiger, the
blue vetch, fought as pest in our
old homestead garden, the beautiful
ly clinging white clematis, spirea
both pink and white, tender margue-
rites, and scores of towering grasses
without a name. This to gladden.
the eve below. Far different but not
less varied is the view beyond. The
man is dead to the beauties of noun
tain scenes who does not find at each
advancing step some new sight to
charm him. Even one single mountain
becomes new mountain at each
angle from which it is viewed. What
permutations are not possible with a
score of mountains in view? A man
has to cross the plain but once to be
filled with wonder that such stately,
lordly heights can cut up such
strange antics before his very eyes.
There is one mountain that com
mands the respect and awe of every
summer visitor. This is Asama-
yama, an active volcano lying fifteen
miles west of Karuizawa and rising
5000 feet above the sea. Almost
without cessation a cloud of smoke
and steam rises from its summit.
sometimes forming a dense black
cloud; at other times fading away to
blue film. People have not regarded
it with any apprehension generally
but this last spring Asama began to
behavein a suspicious manner. Those
who were in Karuizawa heard sounds
resembling the report of distant ar
tillery and saw two inverted cones OF
smoke and ashes rise far into the sky
and gradually spread out over the
boouoos Forty roi1ac d;cfonf aoba