CONTENTdm
C.P.R. steamships
Canadian Pacific Railway Company
Travel
Tourism
Steamboats
Ocean travel
Wallace B. Chung and Madeline H. Chung Collection
Scidmore, Eliza Ruhamah
Pamphlet with tourist information on Japan and China. Includes Japanese words and phrases with translations. Fourth edition.
application/pdf
7#9z py Elj^a Scj o/\ore /bo - WESTWARD TO THE FAR EAST A GUIDE TO THE PRINCIPAL CITIES OF CHINA AND JAPAN WITH A NOTE ON KOREA. ELIZA RUHAMAH SCIDMORE. FOURTH EDITION. issued by The Canadian Pacific Railway Company. 1893. FRKFACK. "Westward to the Far East" is intended to supply general information in a concise form to those who may be desirous of visiting Japan and China, as well as to serve as a guide to those visiting those portions of the Orient by the Canadian Pacific Route. It is not an elaborately descriptive work, nor is it a mere bald statement of times, distances and measurements. It indicates the chief points of beauty and interest along the route and in Japan and China, dealing at sufficient length with each subject to satisfy the casual observer, and referring those who desire more detailed information to the several sources from which that may be obtained. It is intended to tell the possible traveler what there is to be seen and the actual traveler how to see it. It should be, if its author's good intention is fulfilled, interesting to the one and useful to the other. It is the result of personal observation and enquiry prompted by the desire to acquire the knowledge most useful to a tourist, and while being a trustworthy guide to those traveling in the countries referred to, will teach others a great deal about China and Japan which they cannot fail to be interested in knowing. Those who have made up their minds to take this enjoyable trip will, of course, require information—which being subject to change is not found in the guide book—concerning sailings of steamships, baggage allowances, tickets, connections, etc., for which application should be made to one or other of the Canadian Pacific Railway Company's Agents. And such intending travelers will probably like to have the companion, " The New Highway to the Orient," a handsomely illustrated pamphlet, which tells of the journey across the continent, and which the agents of the company will furnish with pleasure to any one desirous of reading it. D. McNICOLL, General Passenger Agent, C. P. R. Montreal, January, 1893. When Columbus sailed westward to find a shorter route to the Indies, he was thinking as well of the fabled Zipangu of which Marco Polo had heard at the court of Khublai Khan. Leaving San Salvador and sighting Cuba, the great admiral was sure that Zipangu's palace, with its roof, floors and windows " of gold, in plates like slabs of stone, a good two fingers thick," was near at hand. Fortunately for us, Japan was held in reserve for this century and this generation, and this exquisite country—different in itself from the rest of the world and all this side of the planet, as quaint and unique, as beautiful and finely finished as one of its own netsukes or minute works of art—delights the most jaded traveler and charms every one who visits it. Columbus failed to find this Zipangu, or Jeh Pun, the Land of the Rising Sun; but Pinto did in 1542, and made possible the work of St. Francis Xavier and the early Jesuit fathers, but for whose interference with political affairs the country would not have been closed to all foreign intercourse until Commodore Perry's visit in 1853. The sperm whale was the innocent factor in this great result, and after quoting Michelet's praise of the whale's service to civilization, Nitobe* says, " that the narrow cleft in the sealed door of Japan, into which Perry drove his wedge of diplomacy, was the rescue of American whalers." From providing a grudging refuge for shipwrecked and castaway mariners, Japan now welcomes visitors from all the world and bids them enjoy an Arcadia where many things are so strange and new that one might as well have journeyed to another planet. Within a few years pleasure travelers around the world have more than quadrupled in numbers, and a girdling of the earth is now the grand tour, which a little round of continental Europe used to be. The trip to Japan for Japan's sake alone is altogether an affair of these later days. " More travelers, better ships ; better ships, more travelers," is an old axiom in shipping circles, and there is proof in the increasing number of trans-Pacific passengers and the presence of the Canadian Pacific Railway Company's fleet of Empress steamships which carry them across the greater ocean. With their close connection with the company's transcontinental railway a new era of travel began. There is every inducement and temptation to make the circuit of the globe, and Japan fairly beckons one across and along this highway to the Orient. With but two changes, one may go from Hong Kong to Liverpool, more than half way around the globe ; and from Hong Kong to the Atlantic steamer a uniform decimal system of coinage solaces a tourist's existence. Time and distance have been almost annihilated by modern machinery, and the trip from New York to Yokohama takes no longer now than did the trip from New York to Liverpool but a few years ago. Ten days after leaving Yokohama the Empress of Japan had arrived at Vancouver, and in less than fifteen days from leaving Japanese shores its passengers were in New York and Boston. Inside of sixty days one may leave New York, cross the continent and the Pacific, spend four weeks in the cities and famous places of Japan, and return again to New York ; where, if he commit himself to Atlantic ships and waves, he will remember and more keenly appreciate the delights of the Pacific voyage. Each year is Europeanizing and changing Japan, and the sooner *." Intercourse Between the United States and Japan," by Inazo (Ota) Nitobe. Baltimore: John Hopkins, Pren., 1891. theMxmrist goes .the islano^H^Every season is month or me year he will addition to the usual fea the season of the cl mums are the climate ie and. autum .ntil\januar ic^^SCa: toSaBoii, >er render i'dsiimmer is^a of springtime to gives an interest 'uallyjijfeges and the frost adian and the e, may marvel, n, the court is and even at its bntinent across during those Apri October fe desired. The sorr&^^fainy seas^ those months the; least 'desirable, little trying to sjwpe^yet from the the end of the FSngdrawn autumn and color whicfrthe winter months lack. into ari Indian summer which may lats summons such a carnival of color J American, used to their own brill jgi-nf In midwinter Tokio is crowded, paffi^mliit \^n sessi in full social activity, pageants andlioMkys ai^ rnair/ worst the weather is a gentle contf^t to that of the the Pacific. f j " The Japanese," says Percival Lowell,*/^jarsffiifs love to Nature, and it almost seems as if Nature heard h^^ient prayer and smiled upon him in acceptance ; as if the lov^4ight lent her face the added beauty that it lends the maid's. Fpr^nowhere in this world, probably, is she lovelier than in Japan r^climate of long, happy means and short extremes, months of spnng and months of autumn, with but a few weeks of winter in bejween ; a land of flowers, where the lotus and the cherry, the plunflftid wistaria, grow wantonly side by side ; a land where the bamb^vembosoms the maple, where the pine at last has found its nalm-treK and the tropic and the temperate zones forget their separating iden|Tty in one long self-obliterating kiss." / IIP / A daylightytHp up the Hudson and past Lake Champlain, or a night in a^ee^i^gfcar, puts the transatlantic or the New York traveler at j the I <g of his journey. From Montreal ACROSSTHE to Wa A^he broad highway of the Canadian CONT|NENt Pacific Raif^Jy bands the continent and joins the two 0ce9.11 ti^s^as if only a broad quay separated them. In luxurious carslwhfee he dines and sleeps, bathes, smokes and reads as in a hoteTfphefbeholds the panorama of the continent. There is revealed to hiifi elvery physical feature of the new world, the great lakes, the great jrivirs, the plains and prairies, forests and swamps, and finally the greatest mountain ranges of the continent succeed one another in the\rj|f)idly moving pictures. The engine darts through, climbs over, fllnks, encircles and conquers those barriers until, racing down the long canon with the mad current of the Frazer, it runs out from the level woodland at the head of Burrard's Inlet, and, panting, slows up side by side with the great white steamship that is to convey the * " The Soul of the Far East " by Percival Lowell. Boston and New York: Houghton, Mifflin & Co., 1888. travelexJacross ' f " the ocean, to that % older world where the human race began. With his annotated time table—the most excellent and useful piece of railway literature ever devised—the tourist has a key and bird's-eye view of the continent beside him, and with his own pencil- ings by the way on its blank leaves, it becomes the complete journal and record of his days on the overland train. There is a new object lesson in geology and botany to be studied through car windows each day and much of ethnology as well. For the first dav the train races through a half covered glacier garden, and the marks of the great ice sheet that ground down the Laurentian slopes are so plain that one expects some next turn to show a rumpled ice stream pouring through a ravine, rather than another lake encircled by the forest. On the second day, the glacier garden continues on a larger scale, and on the left the view ranges out over that inland sea, the vast blue Lake Superior. The north shore is the paradise of superior sportsmen and anglers, and one glimpses lakes, clear white streams and rushing rivers whose names are synonyms for trout—six-pounders, too. At Fort William, the travelers who have chosen the lake route from Owen Sound across Lake Huron and through the picturesque Sault Ste. Marie to Lake Superior, join the train, and at Winnipeg the Chicago and St. Paul contingent are waiting. As the train fills with other trans-Pacific voyagers, each tourist is convinced that all the world is bound for Japan, and that his particular party is but a fraction of some great excursion. Winnipeg, the prairie city, distanced all records of booming towns when the railroad reached the Selkirk Settlements on Red River, isolated for a Winnipeg, hundred years in the heart of the continent. A busy western city grew like magic around the old Hudson's Bay Company fort, and instead of exchanging beads and paint with Indian trappers, that mercantile corporation displays the latest fashions in plate glass show windows and maintains a general store for city needs. The main street, with its handsome buildings, its large hotels, electric lights and electric cars, is busy at all times of the year, but most picturesque in midwinter, when every one wears fur garments and sleigh-bells jingle in the dry, electric air. The French Canadian, the woodsman and bark canoe cease at the prairie's edge. Winnipeg is the central station and half-way house of the conti nent, and after :AAAA-- a two hour's rest one takes a fresh start on the journey with freshened cars. All beyond that point is the far, golden, remote, wide West, full of wonders, picturesqueness, wild life and adventure. The prairies, level as placid seas or poA|R|Es rolling like the ocean in its storms, stretch unbroken to the base of the Rockies. The grassy plains, where the buffalo roamed by millions, are now mosaiced with wheat fields, checkered with these squares of intensest green or golden yellow grain or the black of plowed loam, and tall elevators stand by the tracks like lighthouses on the level sea. The only reminders of the herds that used to blacken the prairies are in the melancholy piles of bleached bones beside the track—bones that are gathered all over the buffalo country and sold at two dollars a cord to be shipped to sugar refineries. The noble Blackfeet and Crows crouch on the station platforms at-Qu'Appelle, Moosejaw, Swift Current and Medicine Hat selling polished buffalo horns, or polished ox horns, which do as well for the tourist trade, and hiding their heads from amateur photographers until paid to pose. The Northwestern Mounted Police, alert for smugglers and disturbers of the Indian peace, show their gay uniforms at all these prairie stations, and are as favorite subjects for touch-the-button photographers as the retired red warriors, bucks and braves temporarily out of the scalping business. At daylight, a high blue wall bars the west, resolves itself into spurs, peaks and long, overlapping ranges, and shows a more impenetrable front as the train races toward it and ploughs into a cleft at its base. One enters the mountains and leaves the plains behind as abruptly as if he had passed through a door in an artificial wall. The whole world changes. Mountains tower about one, each one rising alone and distinct from the narrow level of the valleys ; each mountain as sharp, free cut and isolated as a pyramid built by human hands. Geology and world- building are written as plainly as printed text, and the processes by which these masses were uplifted are so apparent, that one can fancy the strata still in motion, groaning and creaking as they are forced up and bent almost at a right angle with their old horizontal levels. Even the most hurried tourist should save three days of grace for his overland tour, and spend one of them at Banff, just within the mountain wall. The Canadian Government has reserved a National Park twenty-six miles BANFF. long and ten miles wide, and in its midst, surrounded by the finest peaks, sections of strangely and magnificently tilted strata, the Canadian Pacific Company has provided a perfect hotel. The building is perched on a knoll above the blue Bow River, and commands such views toward every point of the compass that only a revolving room on the roof could give the guest the outlook he most desires. He may rejuvenate himself in the magic hot sulphur waters in a hotel tub, or he may plunge into a natural swimming pool of warm water in a domed cave ; and by horse, foot, wheel and boat he may explore the surrounding Rocky Mountain Park for weeks without exhausting its wonders. From Banff to Laggan the scenery is most magnificent and the Rockies equal all of one's expectations. Gigantic peaks and battle- mented walls enclose the narrow valley, and glaciers and snow fields clothe the upper reaches, beyond and among which lie the so-called Lakes of the Clouds, bits of water framed in mountain walls that rival the best of Swiss and Norwegian scenery. A three-mile wagon road has been cleared through the pine woods from Laggan to Lake Louise, the beginning of cloudland. The railway company has built a log chalet near the lake shore, where the tourist may lunch, and enjoy simple comforts if he wishes to prolong his stay and dwell awhile in the wilderness. Lake Louise, with its tremendous peaks and precipices, its glaciers and snow fields, its stretch of mirror waters that nearer show thf lakf<? in a depth of color unapproached by the other lakes, the clouds ^as drawn f°rth all the adjectives its visitors could command. Yet its loveliness can only be suggested to those who have not climbed among the slender tapering spruces and literally waded among the wild flowers on the high mountain meadows. Mirror Lake, still further up among the clouds, is a pool of different hue, more closely hemmed by mountain walls striped, overspread and finely fretted with snow banks ; and every detail shows double, the clearest and sharpest reflections covering the whole unruffled surface of the lake. There are magnificent views down to the Bow Valley and across to further ranges as one follows these upper trails, picking his way in and out of forests, and across acres of heathery pink and white brianthus and pale green Cassiopeia, and beds of blue bells, gentians, cyclamens, anemones, daisies, buttercups, and Indian pinks. The edelweiss is found in the highest flower beds, and footprints of mountain goat and mountain sheep tell what other visitors these flower-gemmed meadows attract. Lake Agnes is third and last in the trio of lakelets, and in the high, thin air every detail of its further shores are as clearly seen as if near at hand. Waterfalls dropping in slender filaments from the higher snow banks, fill the air with a distant, constant undertone, and the fleecy clouds sail over a second sky lying in the lake, and play hide and seek with the doubled peaks. The wonders of the Rockies are not nearly exhausted when one takes train again at Laggan. Soon Mt. Stephen looms, first ahead and then directly overhead, as one is tobogganed down the canon at its base. It takes more than two looks to reach to the top, precipitously as it fronts one, and the mountain plays fantastic tricks with the eye as the train moves away from it—the domed mass suddenly bounding from behind a ridge, rising, swelling and seeming to advance toward one as the engine shrieks and madly races away from it. Another great mountain range bars the way and the train creeps along shelves and ledges of the canon of canons leading to the summit of the Selkirk range. The views backwards, below, across and overhead are more and more magnificent as one catches glimpses between the tunnels. After gaining the ridge, the train races from Rogers Pass down to Glacier station, where another of the company's hotels invites the tourist to spend his third day of grace, and as many more hours as he can command. The hotel is 4300 feet above either ocean, and the broad stream of the Selkirk Glacier is seen curling over and pouring down the slope at the end of the great horseshoe valley. THE GREAT Advancing only one foot a day, the sun matches its glacier might against the ice and keeps the forefoot of the glacier almost stationary at the head of the ravine. One may see the glacier very satisfactorily from the car window and note the pale greens and blues of the crevasses breaking the glimmering surface ; but he who stops may walk a mile and a half through the woods and, mounting the grimy ice cliffs, wander as far as he will over the crackling surface. Asulkan, "the home of the mountain goat/' rises behind the hotel, but that nervous beast, as well as his colleague, the big horn sheep, have taken to further pastures since the iron horse invaded their realms and began its incessant shrieking and tooting on the grades of the Illicilliwaet Canon. Crossing the youthful Columbia again, the train climbs a third mountain range and by the Eagle pass of the Gold Range reaches the shore of the great Shuswap Lake. The tourist, who has made the journey without stop, has then enjoyed some sixteen hours of the finest mountain scenery on the continent; is grimed with his day in the observation car, and deafened with the echo of canons ; and as the Shuswap mountains shade to purple in the late summer sunset, he is too exhausted to agree or disagree with those less weary ones who pronounce the evening hours along the lake the crowning glory of the whole day's ride. As if this were not enough for a transcontinental trip, there follow the sunrise lights on the painted cliffs, the rose and orange, vermilion and umber walls of the steep canons of the Thompson River. Last comes the splendid race with the Fraser to the sea, and a final speeding through the Cascade forests, where trees of gigantic size, a tangle of ferns and densest undergrowth tell of a new climate and conditions, the other shore, the Cordilleran slopes of the continent. At Vancouver a still larger and better hotel has been provided by the same far-seeing company, and although in the heart of the town, its site affords it a fine mountain outlook. VANCOUVER. Southward shines Mount Baker, a radiant pyramid of eternal snow, whose fascination grows upon one, and which Vancouver folk are beginning to look upon with an affection and reverence that shadow the feeling of the Japanese for their sacred Fujiyama. A mountain wall rises straight across the harbor, and behind it is the lake from which the city receives its water supply, the pipes being laid in the bed of the inlet, whose waters, too, are so clear that one hardly believes them salt. In them float such large and richly-colored jelly-fish and medusae as one only expects to find in tropic waters, and at low tide the piles of the older wharves offer such an aquarium and museum of marine life as would be worth an admission fee on the Atlantic coast. Vancouver can pleasantly entertain a waiting voyager for a few days. Its streets combine frontier and sea-faring, backwoods, European, American and Oriental conditions and people. One curio shop sells basket work, silver and slate carvings brought in canoes by the coast Indians, and at the next door all the Orient is set before one by Chinese and Japanese traders who add to their stock by each arriving steamer. A mountain of tea chests is unloaded from each Empress, and a mountain of sacked flour and cotton in bales takes their place. In one shop delicate jeweler's scales weigh the miners' gold dust poured from buckskin bag or tin box; in another shop lean, yellow Chinese fingers manipulate the silk strung scales with which the smokers' opium is measured out. A street of trim villas, with beautifully-kept lawns and gardens, becomes a roadway through the forest primeval, and the nine miles of carriage road through Stanley Park show one a forest as dense as a tropical jungle. Where the sombre Douglas spruce grows thickest, there is only a dim, green twilight under their branches at noonday, and the road is a mere tunnel through the original forest. Bushes, vines, ferns and mosses riot there, cedars of California proportions amaze one, and the voyager should even rise before the lark, rather than leave without seeing what a northwest coast forest is like. Coming out of the forest to the brow of a cliff, which stands as a gateway to the inlet, one may look almost straight down upon the decks of passing steamers, and on the rocks below lies the wreck of the Beaver, the first steamer that ever churned Pacific waters. It came round the Horn in 1836, bringing its boiler and engines as freight, and they were put in place in the Columbia River. As a Hudson's Bay Company's steamer, the Beaver was known to the Indians from Astoria to Chilkat, and much respected by them as a "King George" ship, while Lieut. Pender made soundings and surveys for his British Columbia coast charts. From that estate it fell, and rather then remain a Victoria tug-boat the Beaver committed nautical suicide in 1889 by dashing itself against the cliffs of Stanley Park. Close past it sail the three great white Empresses on each inward and outward trip ; the first and the latest steamships in the Pacific for an instant side by side. Far more than a half century of invention would seem to lie between the crude and primitive little engine that beat within the Beaver's sides and the powerful machinery that propels these floating palaces, supreme efforts of Barrow- in-Furness master marine builders. Nothing that could be devised in those Lancashire yards was omitted to make the three Empresses triumphs of such arts. Strength and speed were first considerations, and with their steel hulls, double bottoms, watertight compartments, twin screws, triple expansion engines and straight record of over ninteen knots an hour, the conditions THE STEAMSHIPS. 13 ' M were more than fulfilled. First for the comfort of the / passengers the ships were painted white, making a difference i of many degrees temperature between decks in southern i waters, and giving them a spick and span look. Four hun- I dred and eighty-five feet in length and fifty-one feet beam, | with hurricane deck, cabins and staterooms amidships, there I is space, air and steadiness to be enjoyed by the one hun- II dred and fifty cabin passengers which each ship can carry. All staterooms have electric lights, and while electric fans and port-hole scoops give air in tropic regions, steam ^W^ heat cheers and comforts on the northern ^""""
@en ; edm:hasType "Advertisements"@en, "Pamphlets"@en ; dcterms:identifier "CC_TX_224_016"@en ; edm:isShownAt "10.14288/1.0374481"@en ; dcterms:language "English"@en ; edm:provider "Vancouver : University of British Columbia Library"@en ; edm:currentLocation "Box 224"@en ; dcterms:rights "Images provided for research and reference use only. Permission to publish, copy or otherwise use these images must be obtained from Rare Books and Special Collections: http://rbsc.library.ubc.ca/"@en ; dcterms:source "Original Format: University of British Columbia. Library. Rare Books and Special Collections. The Chung Collection. CC-TX-224-16"@en ; dcterms:title "Westward to the far east : a guide to the principal cities in China and Japan"@en ; dcterms:type "Text"@en .