For Long I Looked In Vain For Fujisan, And Failed To See It, Though
I Heard Ecstasies All Over The
Deck, till, accidentally looking
heavenwards instead of earthwards, I saw far above any possibility
of height, as one would have
Thought, a huge, truncated cone of
pure snow, 13,080 feet above the sea, from which it sweeps upwards
in a glorious curve, very wan, against a very pale blue sky, with
its base and the intervening country veiled in a pale grey mist.
{1} It was a wonderful vision, and shortly, as a vision, vanished.
Except the cone of Tristan d'Acunha - also a cone of snow - I never
saw a mountain rise in such lonely majesty, with nothing near or
far to detract from its height and grandeur. No wonder that it is
a sacred mountain, and so dear to the Japanese that their art is
never weary of representing it. It was nearly fifty miles off when
we first saw it.
The air and water were alike motionless, the mist was still and
pale, grey clouds lay restfully on a bluish sky, the reflections of
the white sails of the fishing-boats scarcely quivered; it was all
so pale, wan, and ghastly, that the turbulence of crumpled foam
which we left behind us, and our noisy, throbbing progress, seemed
a boisterous intrusion upon sleeping Asia.
The gulf narrowed, the forest-crested hills, the terraced ravines,
the picturesque grey villages, the quiet beach life, and the pale
blue masses of the mountains of the interior, became more visible.
Fuji retired into the mist in which he enfolds his grandeur for
most of the summer; we passed Reception Bay, Perry Island, Webster
Island, Cape Saratoga, and Mississippi Bay - American nomenclature
which perpetuates the successes of American diplomacy - and not far
from Treaty Point came upon a red lightship with the words "Treaty
Point" in large letters upon her.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 5 of 417
Words from 1160 to 1477
of 115002
