The Face of Manchuria, Korea, & Russian Turkestan by Emily Georgiana Kemp

The slowness and discomfort of the journey from Manchuria by railway to Seoul determined us to take another route on our return, and as there was a boat going from Chemulpo to Dalny about the time we wanted to start we decided to take it. We booked our places in good time, paid for tickets, and the agent promised to wire at once to Yokohama to have the berths reserved for us. On our return to Seoul, however, after our trip across the country, we saw that another steamer was advertised to sail the day following the one for which we had booked. This was not only a larger steamer, but also boasted European food, instead of Japanese, no small matter when one is sea-sick. We at once decided to change our tickets if possible, and went to the agent from whom they had been obtained. He said it was impossible to make any alteration as the berths had been already secured on the other steamer; however, after some demur, he telephoned to the agent at Chemulpo to ascertain what answer he had received from Yokohama. The agent declared that he had never been asked to secure any berths, and that none had been reserved. This made the way plain for us, and we were glad for once of the hopelessly unbusinesslike habits prevailing in Korea. I have related this incident to show how difficult it is to travel comfortably; for our friends said that ours was no uncommon experience, and that various of their friends, with places already engaged, had gone to take their boat at Chemulpo, as we should have done, and found that all the berths were full, so that they were obliged to return to Seoul and wait for the next. As boats only run to Dalny once in three or four weeks this is a serious matter.

We started in the early afternoon and found a large crowd of passengers waiting to go by the train; it duly came into the station, and the luggage was put in the van, but the passengers were kept cooped up within railings for fifteen minutes, actually to within five minutes of the starting of the train. When they were at last allowed on the platform there was a perfect stampede, and the discovery was made that there were no first-class carriages, though we and other passengers had first-class tickets. The officials were applied to, but they said if we wanted first-class accommodation we could wait a couple of hours and take the next train. We were not sorry when our short journey of one and three quarter hours came to an end to think that it was our last experience of Korean railways. On arrival at Chemulpo we passed through a door labelled "wicket," which was surely strangely unlike the wicket gate with which we are all so familiar by name from the days of our childhood, though we certainly felt like pilgrims.

Chemulpo is a cosmopolitan sort of place and has an unenviable reputation, but it has certain charming features. The first is that there is always a cool breeze; the second is that it extends up a hill-side, and from the British Consulate, perched on the edge of the cliff, there is a fine view over the harbour. From there a group of thrilled spectators watched the dramatic opening of the war between Russia and Japan. They saw the two gallant Russian warships steam out of the inner bay to meet the Japanese fleet and certain destruction. Whatever may be thought of the action, no one can fail to admire the unflinching courage-so characteristic of both armies-which dictated it.

As we climbed up the hill we saw towering above us a fine red church belonging to the Roman Catholics, and we reached the mission hospital of the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel. No one who is unacquainted with Eastern seaports can understand the arduous character of the work carried on by the tiny handful of workers stationed at such places; but where could there be a greater need of that Christian demonstration which a hospital affords? Only once a month an ordained clergyman comes down to take the services; at other times the doctor has to conduct them, as well as attend to all the medical work. It is difficult for him to get an occasional holiday of even a couple of days, for at the present time the medical work among the Koreans has not progressed far in the training of assistants. The hospital is small and lacking many of the things which our ordinary general practitioners would consider essential to a hospital, but the results are nevertheless satisfactory.

As we left the doctor's house we found that a boatman had dogged our steps, and been waiting a couple of hours to secure possible passengers on the way to the S. S. _Santo Maru_, for he had no doubt seen Mr. Chiao taking our luggage from the station to the ship. We could not resist such pertinacity, and after some half-hour's rowing in his sampan, we reached the outer harbour where the _Santo Maru_ lay.

Next morning at 5 A. M. punctually we started for Dalny in heavy rain, which thickened into fog in the course of the day. The Nippon Yusen Kaisha is at present the best Japanese line of steamers, and has ships plying all round the world. The accommodation was quite comfortable, and the staff, from the captain downwards, most kind and polite to the passengers. There was an excellent Chinese _chef_ on board, and he prepared an elaborate Sunday dinner for the thirteen passengers-composed of Americans, Spaniards, Australians, and ourselves-such as would have been more suitable for Christmas Day; the menu included roast beef, turkey, and plum-pudding. Tiny birds kept haunting the ship all day long, so tame that they alighted on people's shoulders, and sea swallows came darting into the saloon during dinner.