Now, though of course I don't pretend to the faithfulness of portraiture, nor to the accuracy of observation of the travelled lady I have before quoted, yet I must add that my estimate of this people, in my own small way, is antagonistic to hers. To me they are only a very little removed from savages. Their women seem to be in abject slavery to the men, and are treated by them in the most shameful manner. An instance, which came under my own observation, will perhaps shew this. Whilst on shore fishing, I had wandered away from the main party to where I saw a native engaged at work on an upturned canoe. Up the beach was his hut--I have seen many a stye a king to it--and in the doorway his--wife must I call her? Curious I suppose like all her sex she came down the strand to get a look at the white-skinned, light-haired stranger, and was rewarded for temerity in a most summary manner. The man, at first, seemed to expostulate with her, and so far as I could judge, ordered her back to her domicile; but as the lady did not seem prompt to obey the mandate, he further emphasised his meaning and accelerated her movements by flinging a billet of wood at her with all the irresponsible and unrestrained force of a savage nature. In the face of this can I agree with Miss Bird? My first feeling was one of indignation and an angry twitching of my ten digits to form themselves into bunches of fives, but on second thoughts, seeing that the poor woman took the chastisement as a matter of course, and that she was seemingly used to such like gentle reminders, my indignation cooled down to matter of fact surprise. This place is the exile home of one of the banished daimios I spoke of in a former chapter. From Endermo we retraced ours steps to Hakodadi, where, during a short stay, we had some amusement in the shape of messes pulling for bags of "spuds" (the potatoe of the non-sailor world) and other comestibles. July 30th.--The date of the most important event of the commission. Referring to my "journal" I find recorded below this date that word of terrible import, "stranded." Yea, truly are we. And this is how it all came about. We had sailed from Hakodadi with a fair wind, through the strait of Sangar and out into the sea of Japan, shaped our course for Aniwa bay, in Sagalien, with--except that the atmosphere was rather hazy--every prospect of a fair and quick passage.