Fifteen Years Among the Top-Knots; Or, Life in KoreaUnderwood, Lillias H. (Lillias Horton)
Religion
Fifteen Years Among the Top-Knots; Or, Life in Korea
Underwood, Lillias H. (Lillias Horton)
Korea -- Description and travel; Missions -- Korea
Aware that we were besieged, we hung shawls and rain coats round
the room, before the doors and windows, hoping to prevent the usual
peep-show made by perforating fingers, and thus fortified, seated
ourselves in front of our trunk, which served for a table, to partake
of our meal during the short respite thus gained. A smothered titter
made us look quickly around. Long slender rods had been pushed through
the peep-holes, the curtains lifted, multitudes of eyes applied to new
holes, and we were well in view. I must honestly confess that in some
of these baffled moments, in the hot fire of the enemy’s ungenerous
triumph, I have thought with glee of the execution which could be done
with a syringe well aimed at those eye-filled holes, if we were just
common travelers and not longing to win all hearts and ready to bear
all such small annoyances with patience for the love of these poor
people, even the most annoying of them. And now that I am more fully
seasoned, I endure these rude intrusions into my privacy with more
_sang froid_, excusing and understanding it.
About this stage in our journey our provisions ran very low, and among
other things sugar gave out. Natives do not have this article of food,
but we were able to get the Korean buckwheat honey, than which I have
never tasted any more delicious, and we found that it improved the
flavor of the finest tea.
Here in these far recesses of the interior, where we were uncertain of
the temper of the people, and where many more than doubtful characters
were known to be in hiding, the magistrates thought it necessary to
send at least one, sometimes two, officials with us.
At the town of Huiju we found the scenery growing quite wild, the hills
rising into mountains (though not very high ones), the road zig-zagging
up and up, while a brawling, hurrying brook ran noisily below. Here
we found the first spring flowers under the lingering snow, and above
the snow were butterflies darting about in the sunshine, quite sure
that they were in the right place, since the Father sent them, even
though it did look a little cold and bleak; and then if one only looked
up, there was the sun. Just here in the steepest, dizziest and most
difficult part of the ascent, two of those poor little pack-ponies
which I had been pitying all along for the terrible way their
relentless mapoos overloaded them, began fighting (loads and all),
and after kicking each other in the liveliest fashion for some time,
squealing like little fiends, while the poor mapoos were dancing and
vociferating around them trying to bring about a truce, they finally
scampered off in different directions, and then and there my heart
hardened, and never since has pity for these animals entered it. They
are, I firmly opine, as self-willed, spoiled, obstinate, quarrelsome,
uncertain, tricky and tough little beasts as ever carried a load.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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