The journey from Seoul to Fusan is through lovely cultivated land, everywhere varied by hill scenery, of which it has been estimated that three-fourths of Korea consists. The largest proportion of grain cultivated is rice, but wheat, barley, beans, millet, and other cereals grow equally well. It is truly a land flowing with milk and honey, has a beautiful climate, and if well governed ought to be most happy and prosperous. It is not subject to earthquakes, nor to any other great disasters, such as floods and plagues. Last year, it is true, cholera broke out in Seoul, but by the splendid exertions of the Japanese it was quickly brought under control with small loss of life.

As we travelled southward the land gradually became greener and the fruit-trees showed their delicate blossoms. Over the willows there was a delicate film of green, and the pink azaleas on the hill-sides glowed in the evening light. The journey of twenty hours seemed long, however, for we were travelling in an American car, and it taxed the ingenuity even of the small and supple Japanese officers, who were our fellow-travellers, to make themselves comfortable in the first-class carriage. The attendant brought slippers all round, and when the officers had divested themselves of their boots and unrolled their rugs and eiderdowns, it became an interesting study to see them try to accommodate their forms to the small seats for two. As they found a resting-place for their heads, their feet crept up to the window-panes, or had to curl up like a spring. Happy the man who can sleep undisturbed in such quarters, with the constant noise of slamming doors and traffic passing through the car, which is the American ideal of railway comfort!

The day wore away, and as we were nearing Fusan the attendant came to brush us up and help us on with our coats; he also brought the surprising news that our friends at the next station had telephoned up the line to say they were coming to meet us, and that we should be ready to get out at the next station. Accordingly we did so, and our friends told us they had learnt that the boat by which we were going to Wonsan would not start till the following morning, and that we should not even be allowed to go on board till the next day. We were only too glad to accept the kind hospitality which they offered us instead of the cold comfort of a Japanese hotel at the port. It was very interesting to hear of work being carried on by the Australian Presbyterians in this part of the peninsula, though they have not had as rapid a success as their friends in the north. They follow the same policy, the result being a strong self-supporting church.

I cannot omit a word about the experience of one of their new workers, as it shows the extraordinary results of Christianity in another mission field. This Scotsman only went to the New Hebrides some twelve years ago to work among the former cannibals. In order to do this more effectually they gave him, some time since, a motor boat to prosecute work among the islands; this boat he found invaluable, being an experienced seaman and working it himself. Unfortunately, owing to an attack of black-water fever, he was obliged to give up work there by the doctor’s orders, consequently the boat was left for the use of his successor. The natives were greatly distressed at his leaving, and presented him with no less a sum than £250 to commence work in his new sphere. He has decided to start a similar work among the countless islands round the Southern coast of Korea as soon as he has sufficiently mastered the language. The generosity involved in such a gift is hard to overestimate.

It may interest people to know that the working expenses of the motor boat comes to less than one penny a mile, namely about half the cost of itinerating on the mainland.

Fusan is a beautiful spot, in an ideal situation for a harbour, but the town itself has all the ugly characteristics of a busy seaport. The bay is surrounded with high hills, showing a picturesque and varied outline, with fruit-trees and other vegetation, giving a brighter note of colour to the sombre pine-trees which cling to their rugged sides. The natural excellence of the harbour, which is almost closed by an island, leaving a channel for ships on both sides, has been further improved by the removal of some of the spurs of the hills so as to give larger space for wharfage. There is no doubt that Fusan will continue to grow in size and importance, as it is the terminus of the railway and the nearest point for reaching Japan. The ferry to Shimonoseki only takes twenty hours, and plies daily in both directions. In the centre of the town is a beautifully wooded little hill which has been laid out by the Japanese with great taste. Long flights of handsome stone steps lead directly upwards under the shade of overhanging pine-trees, and winding paths lead more gently to the summit, offering alluring seats from which to admire the bay. There is a succession of Shinto shrines which seem to be much frequented. The worshipper approaches, claps his hands loudly, or rings the bell to call the attention of the deity, and then kneels for a moment in prayer. Some of the worshippers tossed up beans as they knelt, or offered money, and there were not a few more costly offerings hanging up—long tresses of black hair. These temples are of recent date, and war trophies were also placed in front of them. Some of the passers-by paid no further attention to the shrine than to bow and remove their hats, but on the whole they elicited a considerable amount of worship, and it is clear that the Japanese are more attached to their religion than some people give them credit for. In this case they have selected the most beautiful and most conspicuous place in the town for their temples; have made a noble approach to them, and planted the little terraces with lovely flowering shrubs, which were just bursting into blossom. The hill-sides were gay with wild azalea and fragrant with the scent of the pines.

We made an early start, as they assured us that it would be too late if we went into town by the morning train, so a primeval bus was chartered to convey us over the rugged roads, and we arrived at the office at 9.30, only to be told that the steamer would not start till 4 or 5 o’clock in the afternoon. We learnt afterwards that a large fine steamer left the night before, although they so confidently assured us there was none. It is a hard trial of patience to travel in Korea.

At the office of the Steamship Company we procured tickets, and were amused at having to give our ages to be inscribed on the tickets, which cost yen 14.70 (about twenty-nine shillings) to Wonsan, first class, a passage of between thirty to forty hours in length. The boat was a fair size, and was heavily laden with timber and petroleum. The staff was entirely Japanese, and little English was understood, but European requirements and wishes did not need to be explained, so we had no difficulty. A more lovely sight than the bay as we steamed out of it past the four sentinel rocks at the entrance in the level rays of the setting sun would be hard to imagine, and one could not but remember how securely hidden the Japanese fleet lay there in wait for the Russian before the great battle in which the Baltic fleet was destroyed.

Our course followed the outline of the coast pretty closely, and the mountains still had touches of snow on them, like veins outlining their shapes. The mountains come quite close down on to the shore, and little cultivation is to be seen on this side of the peninsula. On the eastern coast of Korea there is a tide of only six or eight inches, whereas on the western coast it is no less than twenty-seven feet three inches, one of the highest tides in the world.

There were few birds visible—only an occasional seagull or cormorant, and the white-sailed boats that we had seen thronging the bay of Fusan were conspicuous by their absence. Hour after hour passed without a sign of life being visible. Fortunately the sea was calm, and the next morning but one we reached Wonsan at about 6 A.M. We had to land in small boats, and were met by a party of missionaries, with whom we walked through a good part of the modern town. It is well laid out, and has wide roads leading to the quarters where the American missionaries live on the slopes of hills overlooking the sea and embowered in trees. The Japanese name for Wonsan is Gensan.