Alone with the Hairy Ainu

In Short

Arnold Henry Savage Landor’s travelogue captures a solitary 4,200-mile journey across the northern Japanese island of Hokkaido, mostly on horseback without servants or provisions. Travelling through coastal outposts and remote mountain settlements, Landor observes and sketches the indigenous Ainu people, documenting their daily life, material culture, and spiritual beliefs. He offers a direct record of an isolated culture at a moment of rapid transition, contrasting indigenous customs with expanding Japanese settlements. The book endures for its observational detail, sheer physical endurance, and vivid snapshot of nineteenth-century ethnography.

The Story

The narrative begins with Landor setting out to explore Hokkaido entirely on his own terms. Unaccompanied by guides or companions, he rides around the island's perimeter and cuts through its rugged interior. He carries minimal gear, sleeping in local dwellings or exposed coastal dunes, relying on his own adaptability to navigate difficult terrain and unpredictable weather.

As he travels along the treacherous coastline, Landor encounters rough trails, sea-washed rock tunnels, and rivers swollen by mountain rain. Near Shama-ne, a mistimed attempt to round seaside granite cliffs nearly ends in disaster when ocean waves sweep both him and his pack-ponies out into deep water. He pulls himself and the animals back to shallow ground through sheer persistence, only to confront further perils later in his journey. Crossing the torrential Mashike River, a floating tree trunk strikes him mid-current, washing him ashore with a severe open fracture below the ankle. Using strips torn from his wet coat lining and crude splints, he sets his own broken bone on the riverbank and continues his journey on horseback and crutches.

Throughout his circuit, Landor visits various Ainu villages, noting marked differences between coastal settlements and isolated inland groups. In the interior along the Tokachi River, he finds communities unaffected by Japanese language or customs, which he deems far gentler and more hospitable than the heavily influenced coastal populations. He observes household routines, the rearing of young bear cubs, dietary practices, and traditional crafts. At each stop, he draws sketches of the people and their surroundings, a practice that occasionally provokes intense anxiety among villagers who fear his artwork will steal their souls or ruin their fisheries. By displaying his drawings and maintaining a firm composure, Landor placates their fears and secures their goodwill.

Beyond his direct encounters, Landor investigates the island's archaeological landscape, documenting circular and square pit-dwellings, stone adzes, and chipped flint arrow-heads left by an earlier population. He contrasts these ancient sites with booming Japanese frontier towns like Nemuro, where ambitious young merchants and settlers build new industries around salmon fisheries and mineral mines.

As his journey nears its end, Landor completes the circuit back toward Volcano Bay, his broken foot slowly mending despite the persistent cold. He leaves Hokkaido having gathered a vast collection of ethnographic notes, language variations, and physical observations, presenting his long trek not as a grand hero's quest, but as an open-minded record of a unique land and its people.

How It Unfolds

Setting out alone Landor leaves behind civilized comforts to begin a solitary journey of over four thousand miles around Hokkaido. Riding rough pack-ponies without guides, servants, or tents, he relies entirely on local hospitality and his own adaptability.

Navigating treacherous shores Rough coastal tracks force Landor to ford rivers and brave ocean surges beneath towering granite bluffs. A near-drowning off Shama-ne leaves his horses trembling in the surf as he barely pulls them back to shallow water.

Encounters with the Tokachi Inland along the Tokachi River, Landor visits isolated villages where the inhabitants speak no Japanese and preserve traditional habits. He finds these remote communities extraordinarily gentle, contradicting rumors of their hostility.

Art and misunderstanding While sketching villagers, Landor faces sudden panic from elders who believe his drawings bring famine and death. He resolves the crisis by showing them his repainted scenes, winning their respect through calm authority.

Disaster at the river Attempting to cross a raging river near Mashike Mountain, Landor is struck by a floating tree trunk and swept ashore. With a broken heel-bone protruding from his skin, he splints his own leg using torn coat fabric and flaxen rope.

Frontier contrasts Travelling through new ports like Nemuro, Landor observes ambitious Japanese colonists building towns, bridges, and mineral railways. He contrasts their bustling enterprises with the traditional, decaying hovels of nearby native settlements.

Completing the circuit Hopping on crutches and riding despite acute pain, Landor finishes his loop around Volcano Bay. He compiles his extensive physical, linguistic, and cultural notes before departing the island.

The People

Arnold Henry Savage Landor The author and narrator, an independent traveller driven by a desire to explore regions unseen by other foreigners. He prides himself on extreme adaptability, physical stamina, and a refusal to carry elaborate gear. Despite suffering severe injuries and extreme weather, he maintains his observational focus throughout the journey.

The Tokachi Ainu Inhabitants of the upper Tokachi River who live in bark-covered dwellings scattered across forest plains. Remote and uninfluenced by outsiders, they maintain traditional customs, such as raising bear cubs within households. Though rumoured by outsiders to be violent, they prove to be the most gentle and welcoming hosts Landor meets.

The Coastal Villagers Communities living along the shorelines of Hokkaido, often consisting of Ainu, Japanese fishermen, and mixed-race families. Wary of strangers and deeply protective of their resources, they view Landor's sketching with suspicion, fearing his art will drive away the ocean's fish.

The Nemuro Colonists A group of ambitious young Japanese settlers, merchants, and enterprise leaders expanding trade on the island's eastern coast. Educated and energetic, they contrast sharply with the stay-at-home populations of southern Japan, working quickly to build ports, mines, and shipping networks.

In Its Own Voice

"My baggage consisted of next to nothing, so far as articles for my own convenience or comfort were concerned. I carried no provisions and no tent."

Landor outlines the extreme minimalism of his journey before setting off across the wilderness.

"With great difficulty I got the two brutes into the sea, trying to round the large rocks for the better ground, which I hoped to find on the other side."

He describes the constant physical hazards encountered while navigating the island's rocky coastlines.

"When I recovered my senses well enough I got a man to tear the wet lining of my drenched coat, and with it and a few improvised splints I proceeded to set my own broken bone."

Following a dangerous river accident, Landor calmly treats a severe compound fracture on the shore.

What It's Really About

At its heart, the book examines the immediate impact of expansion and modernization on an isolated indigenous society. Landor documents a culture in rapid transition, arguing that contact with foreign settlements often destabilizes traditional ways of life rather than improving them. By examining physical traits, tools, oral traditions, and domestic habits, he seeks to record the Ainu before their distinct heritage is absorbed or lost.

The narrative also explores the nature of solitude and self-reliance in exploration. Landor tests his personal limits against physical hardship, wild geography, and cultural misunderstandings, arguing that empathy, patience, and adaptability are far more effective than force when navigating unknown territory.

Why Read It Today

Alone with the Hairy Ainu offers a raw, direct look at late-nineteenth-century travel writing, free from the polished embellishments of conventional Victorian literature. Readers interested in anthropology, Japanese history, and historical travelogues will appreciate Landor’s meticulous observations of village life, material artifacts, and regional geography. The prose moves with a crisp, matter-of-fact momentum, capturing both the stark natural beauty of Hokkaido and the grueling realities of long-distance horseback travel.

Modern readers should be prepared for period attitudes and outdated nineteenth-century theories regarding race, endogamy, and physical anthropology. Landor writes with the assumptions of his era, frequently measuring physical features and passing direct judgments on cultural practices. Yet his account remains valuable because he recorded what he saw with his own eyes, rejecting secondhand rumors. His endurance through bone-breaking accidents, freezing storms, and treacherous seas gives the travelogue an immediate, gripping quality that leaves a lasting impression of a world forever changed by time.