"It is a sad thing to see a race dying out," said Pat.
"Especially a white race, as these Ainus seem to be," said another member of the party.
And back to the village we went silently, plodding through a driving blizzard that bore in upon us with terrific force. As we fought our way through this blizzard, I could not help feeling a great sense of depression. It is a fearful thing to see anything die, especially a race of human beings. That is a great epic tragedy worthy of a Shakespeare.
That is enough to wring the soul of the G.o.ds. That a race has played the game, has been powerful and conquering and triumphant, and then step by step has petered out and become weak and senile until biological decay has set in--that is fearful.
Another ill.u.s.tration of the ignominious failure of a lower type of mind to understand a higher type of mind is set forth in the following letter which was written at my request by a missionary whom I met in San Francisco just as the final chapters of this book were being written.
The first time I met this missionary was in Seoul, Korea.
I have been told so many times that the cruelties in Korea have been stopped. Certain men said that they had been stopped immediately after the Independence Movement, but they were not stopped. At frequent intervals the American press is flooded with statements which come from j.a.panese press sources that the outrages in Korea have ceased.
I said to this missionary, who had just arrived from Korea, "Is it true that the cruelties have stopped in Korea?"
"No! They have not stopped! They have not even diminished! They are getting worse, rather than better!"
"Would you be willing to write out, in your own handwriting, a few things that you know yourself which have occurred since I was in Korea so that the book which I am writing may be accurate and up to date in its facts?"
"I will be glad to do that for you! We who are missionaries dare not speak the truth!"
"Why?"
"If we did the j.a.panese Government would never let us get back to our people!"
"Then you may talk through me, if you are willing to do it. I want the truth to get to the American people!"
"I am not only willing but I am eager to talk!" said this missionary and wrote out the following story of cruelty against an educated and cultured Korean, who was the Religious and Educational Director in the Seoul Y.M.C.A. This story of the latest j.a.panese barbarisms I pa.s.s on to the reader in this chapter to ill.u.s.trate another ignominious Hun failure to understand that the practices of the Dark Ages will not work in this century:
"On May 26th, 1920, just as Mr. Choi was coming out of his cla.s.s room he was met by two detectives, one Korean and one j.a.panese, who informed him that he was wanted at the Central Police Station. Here he was turned over to the Chief of Police and thrown into a room and kept all day. Mr. Brockman and Cynn both made several attempts to find out why he was arrested.
Each time they were given an evasive answer. Finally Mr. Cynn insisted that they tell him the cause of the arrest. It was finally discovered that he was wanted in Pyengyang on certain charges. He was to leave Seoul that evening on the 11 p.m.
train. Anxious to see how Mr. Choi was being treated, Mr. Cynn and several of the Y.M.C.A. men went down to the station. Mr.
Choi with the other six students were standing on the platform.
Apparently Mr. Choi was not bound as is the usual custom.
Closer observation, however, revealed the fact that his hands were bound with cords, but in his case the ropes were placed on the inside instead of the outside, of the clothes. He arrived in Pyengyang the next day, May 27, at 5 p.m. Instead of taking Mr. Choi first they called in one of the students whose name is Chai Pony Am. After the usual preliminary questions these inquisitors of the Dark Ages said, "We know all about you everything you have done. There is no use for you to deny anything. You make a clean confession of everything." Mr. Choi replied, "I have done nothing. If I knew what you wanted, I would tell you." More pressure was urged in the way of bombastic speech. Finally the police said, "If you won"t tell of your own free will we will make you tell!" Then the tortures, which the Government published broadcast had been done away with, began. They brought out a round stool with four legs and laid it down on its side with the sharp legs up and made him strip naked. Then they took the silken bands (about 2 in. wide) and placing his hands behind his back until the shoulder blades touched begun bending the arm from the wrist very tight. This completed, they made him kneel upon the sharp edge of the legs of the stool with his shins. Then they took the bamboo paddle (this is made of two strips of bamboo about 2 in. wide and 2 ft. long wound with cord) and begun beating him on the head, face, back, feet and thighs. Every time they struck him his body would move and the movement cause the shins to rub on the sharp edges of the stool. To further increase the pain they took lighted cigarettes and burnt his flesh. This was continued until the student fainted and fell off. They then would restore the patient by artificial respiration and when he refused to confess, continued the torture. This process was continued for 45 minutes and then the student was put into a dark cell and kept for three days. Upon the third day he was again brought before these _just_ policemen and asked if he were ready to confess. Said they, "If you do not tell us this time we will kill you. You see how the waters of the Tai Pong (the river at Pyengyang) wear smooth these stones. That is what we do with those who come in here. Many have been killed in here. Your life is not worth as much as a fly." He was tortured in the same manner as before and then put back into the cell for another three days. This process was continued every three days for two weeks.
"When Mr. Choi, the educational director of the Y.M.C.A. was called in the police said, "You are an educated gentleman and we propose to give you the gentleman"s treatment. We do not want to treat you like ordinary men. Now we want you to tell us what your thoughts have been and are. Make a confession of anything you have done since March 1st, 1919." Mr. Choi said, "What do you want me to confess? If you will give me a little time I will write you out something." This they refused to do and said, "Since you refuse to tell us we will make you tell.
We will treat you like all other dogs." Then they forcibly took off his clothes, and proceeded to bind him in the same manner as the previous student. After being bound he was placed on the stool and beaten. He did not lose his consciousness but fell off the stool, and then was placed back and the same process continued. When Mr. Choi fell off the stool the bands on his arms were loosened and they proceeded to unloosen and rewind his arms. This time they wound them tighter than before. At the ends of these bands are bra.s.s rings which are placed next to the flesh and made to press upon the nerves. This time Mr. Choi said as they wound his right arm he felt a sharp pain and at once noticed that he had lost the use of his arm. It was paralyzed. Mr. Choi was tortured five times in all--one every three days. The first torture lasted one hour and the succeeding ones were less severe than the first. At the end of two weeks, June 10th, Mr. Choi and the six students with him were called before a police captain who said to the students, "There is nothing against you. Some bad Korean has testified falsely against you. We are sorry you have suffered but you can now go free." However to Mr. Choi he said, "You must remain here a week yet. You are still under police supervision. Go to ---- hotel and stay." On June 16th the police came to the hotel where he was staying and said, "You may go down to Seoul tonight." Mr. Choi arrived in Seoul on the 17th and gave this testimony. His arm is still paralyzed."
And so it is that these great failures stand out: the failure of a race of people to survive; the failure of the American people to estimate the loss of Shantung at its proper valuation spiritually, and the failure of j.a.pan to understand that Korea is still and ever shall be _Korea the Unconquered_; this Korea which I call "The Wild Boar at Bay."
CHAPTER X
FLASH-LIGHTS OF FRIENDSHIP
We were running down the Samabs River in a small Dutch ship, the _Merkeus_. This river, running almost parallel to the Equator, and not more than fifty miles away from that well-known inst.i.tution, cuts the western end of Borneo in two, and lends phenomenal fertility to its soil.
Shooting around a bend in the river, suddenly there loomed on the western sh.o.r.es, so close that we could throw a stone and hit it, a tree that was leafless, dead as a volcanic dump; but its dead branches literally swarmed with monkeys. The light in the west had so far gone that they appeared as silent silhouettes against the sunset Their tails, which seemed to be about three feet long, and were curled at the ends, hung below the dead branches. One big fellow had perched himself on the tiptop of the tree, and in the dim light he looked like a human sentinel as his black outline appeared against the evening light.
Then came Missionary Worthington"s story about Kin Thung, the boy who, with characteristic Oriental spirit, had quick murder in his heart:
"It was while I was the head of the Boys" School down in Batavia, Java, that it happened. One has experiences out here in dealing with youth that he does not get at home, for it is inflammable material, explosive to the highest degree."
I waited for his story to continue as the Dutch ship glided swiftly down the river toward the South China Sea, and night settled over us as we sat there on the upper deck, watching the crimson glory change into sudden purple.
"I heard a noise and I knew there was a fight on in the dormitory. I had seen the aftermath of such Malay and Chinese feuds in our schools before, and I knew that it was no trivial matter, as it often is with boy fights at home, so I hurried up.
"When I got there I saw Kin Thung wiping his knife, and the boy he had been fighting lying on the floor, bleeding from a long wound."
"What had happened?"
"Kin Thung was a quick-tempered boy. In addition to that, he was of a sullen make-up, with, what I call, a criminal tendency in him. That, added to his already volatile spirit, made him a real problem in the school. For instance, he was the kind of a boy who, if a teacher called on him without warning to recite, he would get uncontrollably angry, turn sullen and refuse to answer."
"Why didn"t you fire him?" I said.
"That would have been the easy thing to do. I preferred to win him rather than to fire him!"
I felt ashamed of myself for my suggestion, and looked out into the night skies where the beautiful form of the southern cross loomed in the zenith.
"No, I didn"t fire him."
"What did you do?"
"As I was dressing the boy"s wound Kin Thung stood looking on, utterly expressionless and unrepentant, even sullen.
"I didn"t say anything to Kin that night, save to ask him to come to the office the next day.
"The other boys were calling out to him as he entered, and I could hear them through the window, "I wonder how many strokes of the rattan he will get?" for that is one of our forms of punishment.
"He was no doubt wondering himself when he entered, still sullen.
"I said to him, "Kin, I could give you as punishment a hundred strokes of the rattan. I could put you on rice and water for a month, or I could put you to a room for a week in solitary confinement. But I am not going to do either or any of them. I am going to pray for you!"
""I don"t want you to, sir!" he cried in alarm.
""Kneel down!" I said to him.
""I don"t want to."
""Kneel down, I say!"
""I won"t!"
""But this is your punishment. You would submit to the rattan if I imposed that. You must submit to this!" I said.
""I hate prayer!"