From Sea to Sea; Letters of TravelKipling, Rudyard
General
From Sea to Sea; Letters of Travel
Kipling, Rudyard
Asia -- Description and travel; Kipling, Rudyard, 1865-1936 -- Travel; United States -- Description and travel; Voyages and travels
The cuckoo-man proved to be a horrid extortioner; but I was hot and
uncomfortable till I got outside, and was a bog-trotting Briton once
more. You have never blundered into the inside of a three-hundred-dollar
cabinet, therefore you will not understand me.
We came to the foot of a hill, as it might have been the hill on which
the Shway Dagon stands, and up that hill ran a mighty flight of grey,
weather-darkened steps, spanned here and there by monolithic _torii_.
Every one knows what a _torii_ is. They have them in Southern India. A
great King makes a note of the place where he intends to build a huge
arch, but being a King does so in stone, not ink--sketches in the air
two beams and a cross-bar, forty or sixty feet high, and twenty or
thirty wide. In Southern India the cross-bar is humped in the middle. In
the Further East it flares up at the ends. This description is hardly
according to the books, but if a man begins by consulting books in a new
country he is lost. Over the steps hung heavy blue-green or green-black
pines, old, gnarled, and bossed. The foliage of the hillside was a
lighter green, but the pines set the keynote of colour, and the blue
dresses of the few folk on the steps answered it. There was no sunshine
in the air, but I vow that sunshine would have spoilt all. We climb for
five minutes,--I and the Professor and the camera,--and then we turned,
and saw the roofs of Nagasaki lying at our feet--a sea of lead and
dull-brown, with here and there a smudge of creamy pink to mark the
bloom of the cherry trees. The hills round the town were speckled with
the resting-places of the dead, with clumps of pine and feathery bamboo.
"What a country!" said the Professor, unstrapping his camera. "And have
you noticed, wherever we go there's always some man who knows how to
carry my kit? The _gharri_ driver at Moulmein handed me my stops; the
fellow at Penang knew all about it, too; and the 'rickshaw coolie has
seen a camera before. Curious, isn't it?"
"Professor," said I, "it's due to the extraordinary fact that we are not
the only people in the world. I began to realise it at Hong-Kong. It's
getting plainer now. I shouldn't be surprised if we turned out to be
ordinary human beings, after all."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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