Kobo: A Story of the Russo-Japanese WarStrang, Herbert
General
Kobo: A Story of the Russo-Japanese War
Strang, Herbert
Russo-Japanese War, 1904-1905 -- Juvenile fiction
Bob, in company with Yamaguchi, was punted to the quay in a sampan, and
he could not but admire the dexterity with which the muscular boatman,
standing in the bows, drove the tapering-prowed boat through the
bewildering maze of small craft. There was no time to explore the town,
for Yamaguchi at once made for the railway-station. He had told Bob that
he was the bearer of a communication from Admiral Togo to General Kuroki
at Seoul, and Bob, having nothing to do in Admiral Uriu’s absence, was
ready enough to accept his invitation to accompany him. Soon the train
was bearing them over snow-covered flats, past rough huts, round the
bases of the white hills, into the more open country, and finally over a
broad ice-bound river to the terminus some distance from the walls of
Seoul. There, instead of hiring a rickshaw as Bob expected, Yamaguchi
hastened into the city through one of the arched and towered gateways,
and passing up the crowded main street, boarded a small electric
tram-car, in which the Korean passengers were as much at home as any
European.
"Up to date, you see," said Yamaguchi.
"Yes; upon my word the Far East is going ahead. Fancy electric cars in
Korea!"
"Japanese, my friend. Owned by a Japanese company; driver, conductor,
all the employees are Japanese."
"A peaceful conquest of the country to begin with."
"Now I must leave you," said Yamaguchi, as they stepped out of the car.
"You won’t mind waiting for me for a few minutes?"
The few minutes lengthened themselves out to nearly an hour before the
lieutenant returned, but Bob found the time short, so much did he see
that interested him. He watched the people passing. Some of the men,
he noticed, were hatless, and wore their hair long; others had short
hair, and through their transparent flower-pot-shaped hats he could see
a curious top-knot on their heads, the distinguishing mark, as he
afterwards learnt, of the married men. One old man, as he passed,
opened out a fan-shaped bundle of oil-paper which dangled from his belt,
and tied it over his hat, which it served in the office of an umbrella
against a light shower of snow then falling. Everybody wore huge padded
trousers and a short bell-shaped coat with wide sleeves, and walked
along on strange sandal-like shoes bound to the feet by many strands of
paper cord. Scarcely any women were to be seen; the Korean ladies are
kept secluded, and do not go out into the streets except at night. The
few women whom Bob saw were almost hidden by their long green cloaks,
with which they hastily covered their heads at the appearance of a
stranger.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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