Pathway to Japanese Literature

Mountains and People

(1) The Utility of Forests

(a) Flood Prevention.

A forest refers to a state where trees grow thickly and luxuriantly across mountains and hills, forming a large, deep woodland. When our earliest ancestors first appeared on this earth, forests in their natural state served both as human dwellings and sources of sustenance. Even today, a certain barbaric race on the Malay Peninsula builds dwellings on tree branches—an intriguing example preserving humanity’s ancient custom of living directly within forests, as I previously noted. In any case, ancient humans dwelling in forests gathered grasses, tree nuts, wild beasts, and river fish to consume raw, leading lives much like today’s mountain monkeys.

As this occurred and the population gradually increased while everyone's wisdom grew, people finally learned to use fire, began to boil and roast their food, and also came to know how to warm themselves by burning wood during cold times.
In other words, they came to utilize forests as sources of firewood and charcoal.
Moreover, on another front, as the population increased, the grasses and tree fruits they had been using as food gradually became insufficient, necessitating creating fields for agriculture to compensate for this shortage; simultaneously, as wild animals also grew scarcer over time, they found it unavoidable to begin practicing animal husbandry.
To create those farmlands and pastures, they repeatedly burned down portions of the forests.
Therefore, the mountain forests near their villages gradually became narrower and sparser over time, until there eventually became insufficient material for firewood.

As human intellect became increasingly advanced and populations grew drastically, people eventually began felling even the trees of remote mountains to use as construction materials for houses, bridges, tools, machinery, steam trains, electric trains, railroad ties, and telegraph and telephone poles.
Then, they began extracting fine fibers from large timber to make paper and using them for other purposes as well, and in recent times had come to use vast amounts of wood as raw material for rayon.
In this manner, forests were relentlessly felled for firewood, construction, wood fiber production, and other uses, until even the forests of deep mountains and remote valley floors came to be gradually ravaged.
When this occurred, whenever heavy rain fell, the mountain soil and sand would relentlessly wash away, and terrifying floods began to occur.

In Japan following the Meiji Restoration, as forests were recklessly felled, floods afflicted numerous regions. In the fiscal year Meiji 29 [1896], 20,981 villages and towns were submerged underwater, resulting in 1,250 fatalities and 2,450 injuries. Beyond this, 3,680 vessels were lost to currents; over 729,600 houses were either swept away or destroyed; over 785,000 *chō* of farmland were devastated; and when accounting for additional damages—collapsed roads, washed-away bridges, and similar destruction—the total losses reached ¥113 million. Including ¥24 million in restoration expenses, the combined sum amounted to ¥137 million.
In other words, this amounted to ¥137 million—far exceeding Japan’s total exports of ¥117 million that year—so people were all utterly shaken by the flood’s catastrophic scale.

As for why such terrifying floods occur—it was of course because a large amount of rain had fallen at once—the fundamental cause of that rain becoming a flood lay in this: due to the destruction of forests in river headwater regions, there remained no capacity to retain rainwater; all the fallen rainwater flowed downstream in one surge, washing down and depositing the mountains' soil and sand into riverbeds, thereby abruptly altering the water's course until it overflowed and spread out.

In dense forests, a quarter of the rainfall accumulates on branches and leaves before gradually evaporating. The remaining three-quarters of the rain flows from leaves to branches, branches to trunks, gradually falls to the ground, and is absorbed by the fallen leaves there. According to actual experiments, fallen pine needles can accumulate and retain water equivalent to five times their weight. Therefore, fallen pine needles weighing one *kan* can contain five *kan* of water. Furthermore, since various deciduous trees and mosses other than pines can retain seven to ten times their weight in rainwater, even during heavy rainfall, forests do not immediately cause floods; instead, the rainwater gradually flows out over several days and also seeps deep into the ground. Therefore, as long as forests flourish in the mountains, there is absolutely no need to worry about floods occurring.

(b) Water Source Conservation.
Forests can regulate rainfall quantities in this manner while simultaneously nurturing water sources and preventing rivers from drying up.
To elaborate, forest interiors maintain relatively high humidity and low temperatures; moreover, since trees grow densely within them, water evaporation becomes minimal.
Furthermore, as I previously explained, fallen leaves and mosses contain abundant water and consequently allow substantial moisture to permeate into the ground. Therefore, even when prolonged droughts occur, forests gradually release their retained moisture reserves, thereby ensuring river waters never run dry.

Thus, as it came to be understood that forests served the vital function of safeguarding land by preventing flood damage, maintaining constant river flow, and keeping rice paddies from drying out, people finally began protecting and cultivating forests. Furthermore, for national security purposes, portions of these forests were designated as "Protected Forests" to remain permanently uncut.

Onneyu National Forest

While these Protected Forests alone brought benefits only to those living in the river basins fed by their waters—meaning the entire nation had yet to fully utilize forests in this way—the subsequent emergence of hydroelectric power came to be utilized for all urban and rural lighting, various forms of motive power, and even purposes ranging from electric trains, telegraphs, telephones, electric lamps, and industrial machinery to stoves, *sutōbu* heaters, massagers, and foot warmers in daily life. Today, electricity has become indispensable to human existence—something we cannot do without even for a moment.
It is only through forests that the water sources for this hydroelectric power can be fully sustained.
Therefore, nowadays forests in mountainous regions are primarily utilized to conserve water sources in this manner, while harvesting timber for construction and materials for firewood and charcoal has become secondary.

(c) Mental Restoration.
However, much more recently, people have come to consider promoting forest utilization further and applying it directly for public health.
The cities where most reside are crowded into confined spaces where air grows dreadfully polluted with coal smoke and dust, while ceaseless transportation systems clatter noisily day and night—conditions causing urban dwellers to grow physically frail or fall ill.
Thus it becomes necessary to occasionally seek out natural forests to breathe invigorating air and restore one's spirit.
Though cities maintain parks of varying sizes, none qualify as truly tranquil spaces.
Nothing surpasses journeying to beautiful natural forests far removed from urban areas.
In this regard, recent holiday forest camping initiatives and mountain excursions organized nationwide prove truly commendable.
Since we achieve nothing without robust health, proper food digestion through fresh air inhalation, ample sun exposure, and exercise remains paramount.
This explains why outdoor activities—sports, competitions, mountaineering—have gained popularity, leading consequently to flourishing forest utilization for public recuperation and health preservation—in essence, employing forests as parks.

With this, I have discussed the close relationship between forests and people, and how humans have utilized forests in various ways since ancient times.
In addition to these, forests serve various other purposes in human life.

(d) Climate Regulation.
If trees flourish in the mountains, climate regulation can be achieved.
In forest-covered areas, one reason is that sunlight becomes blocked by branches and leaves, resulting in less ground warming; another reason lies in how direct sunlight striking leaf surfaces causes water evaporation that requires significant latent heat.
Latent heat refers to the thermal energy required when a substance melts or evaporates.
For this reason, air near forests remains consistently cool.
This follows the same principle as how sprinkling water in one's garden on a hot summer day brings sudden coolness.
However, at night, forests cover the land with their foliage, thereby preventing heat dissipation from both ground and air—resulting in less pronounced cooling of the surrounding atmosphere.

In this way, the air within the forest remained consistently cooler during daytime and warmer at nighttime compared to outside, thereby mitigating abrupt temperature fluctuations between day and night.
And through this same mechanism, they cooled summers and warmed winters, thereby regulating temperature variations throughout the year.

(e) Prevention of Snow Avalanches and Tsunamis.

In addition to the flood prevention and water source conservation I previously discussed, forests in snowy regions can also prevent damage from 'snow avalanches.'
A snow avalanche refers to accumulated snow on slopes that suddenly slides down when spring warmth causes underlying ice layers to melt abruptly; this can destroy people, livestock, farmland, roads, and other structures in the foothills by dislodging soil, rocks, and debris, resulting in terrifying devastation.
This too can be prevented because forests inhibit rapid snowmelt, and even accumulated snow becomes supported by tree trunks, thereby averting avalanches.

Furthermore, if forests exist along coastlines, the terrifying damage from tsunamis among natural disasters is also reduced.
The tsunami-affected area in the Sanriku region during Meiji 29 (1896) spanned a length of 150 ri, resulting in 22,000 fatalities, 4,400 serious injuries, and total damages amounting to tens of millions of yen from houses lost, ships washed away, and farmland destruction.
Such tsunamis ultimately could not be prevented by human power, but if there were forests along the coast arranged like a belt, they would diminish the tremendous force of the tidal waters rushing in at immense speed, thereby logically resulting in reduced casualties.

In this manner, the utility of forests knows no bounds.

Now, you may ask how much of such important forests exist in Japan. The total forest area across Japan amounted to 43,920,000 chō, which indeed comprised 64 percent of the nation’s total land area. When calculating this per capita across the population, it averaged 5 tan 5 se 5 bu per person. In other words, this meant everyone could each live within 5 tan 5 se 5 bu of forest.

Originally, mountains came in various forms—tall mountains, low mountains, gentle mountains, rugged mountains—but in Japan as well, all of them had initially been covered with naturally thriving trees. However, near the summits of Mount Fuji, the Japanese Alps, and all other high mountains, the cold proved too severe for trees to grow. I would explain this in detail later. Yet in ordinary mountains, there had been no places where trees did not grow. As previously mentioned, as human numbers increased and lumber demands grew ever greater—through relentless logging—not only were mountains near villages stripped of their trees, but even high mountains lost their lush greenery, exposing bare red earth beneath. Such bare red mountains could hardly be considered magnificent as mountains. To put it in human terms, if one were all brawn with no virtue or wisdom, they would be utterly lacking in dignity as a person. Even a low mountain, when thickly wooded, possessed inherent value and provided limitless benefits.

In other words, a mountain's value lies not merely in its height but becomes truly precious when clothed in dense foliage.
To preserve this, we must collectively cherish our mountains—refraining from wanton tree felling and never neglecting to replant and nurture saplings where trees have been removed.

(2) Love the Mountains

For these reasons, as long as all of a nation’s mountains remain lush and verdant, that nation will prosper; conversely, no matter how necessary it may seem, if they do nothing but recklessly cut down trees and lay waste to them, that nation will meet its ruin.
What we must next guard against after logging is terrifying mountain fires.
Living trees may seem somewhat resistant to burning at first glance, but once flames take hold, even beautifully thick forests can turn to ashes in moments.
The period from spring through summer when mountain snow melts sees these fires occur most frequently—through mere carelessness like discarded cigarettes or unattended campfires—where forests requiring a century to grow may burn completely within hours.
Therefore, those who climb mountains must exercise particular caution with fire.

By the way, everyone must not only cherish trees but also take care to avoid breaking branches of those found in towns.
If you want to see beautiful flowers bloom in spring and desire cool shade during the hot summer, then you must care for them just the same, whether they are garden trees or town trees.
During the recent Great Kantō Earthquake, even though half of the ginkgo tree behind the Kannon Hall in Asakusa was burned by fire, the remaining half of its branches and leaves prevented the flames from spreading to the hall.
Not limited to ginkgo alone, trees such as cypress and oak planted around houses and along park fences not only provide shade and windbreaks in ordinary times but also serve remarkably well as firebreak trees during fires, allowing houses to escape being burned down and sometimes even saving human lives—we must not forget this either.

Now that you have come to understand how even trees serve us in so many different ways, everyone must immediately admonish and stop any children you see playing by the roadside stripping bark from town trees or breaking their branches—it would be problematic otherwise.
That is none other than loving trees, which by extension leads to loving mountains, thereby creating national stability and prosperity.

Discussion of Trees

(1) Legendary Giant Trees

About 1,800 years ago in Chikushi (present-day Kyushu), there existed an extraordinarily large tree called Fusō that was rare in the world.
Its height was said to exceed 9,700 *shaku*, reaching up to just below Mount Fuji's seventh station.
With such immensity, its branches and leaves spread so abundantly that they hid Mount Kijimadake in the morning and covered Mount Aso in the evening, casting even daytime into twilight and shading nearly half of Kyushu—it is said the farmers were utterly distressed. Fortunately, this giant tree eventually fell.
When Emperor Keikō, the twelfth emperor, visited the Takada Imperial Villa in Chikushi, that massive log measuring 9,700 shaku had been suspended as a bridge.
The *Nihon Shoki* records that Emperor Keikō crossed this interminably long log bridge accompanied by his numerous retainers.
Another account states this log bridge spanned from what is now Kumamoto across the Ariake Sea to Onsen-dake in Hizen Province.
Is this not an awe-inspiringly enormous tree?

However, since this is merely a legend, it cannot be relied upon, but what I will now discuss are trees that exist commonly everywhere and which everyone can actually observe at any time.
I would like to talk about matters we should mutually heed, as well as things that ordinarily escape notice.

(2) Classification of Trees by Size

When we speak of trees, there are those like pine and cedar that grow large, and others like azaleas and quince that do not grow tall, with branches dividing low to form small bush-like shapes.
Trees that grow tall in height and large in form like pines and cedars are termed "arboreal trees," while those that remain small in form and grow bushy like azaleas and quince are called "shrubs."
These two types can be seen in your home gardens, parks, mountains—wherever you go.
Next, trees are also classified by the shape of their leaves.

(3) Classification of Trees by Leaf Shape

All trees differ from one another in leaf shape but can be broadly divided into two categories. One consists of those with broad, expansive forms like the leaves of Japanese maple trees, called "broadleaf trees," while the other comprises trees with needle-shaped leaves like those of pine trees, termed "coniferous trees." To take examples from trees commonly encountered by everyone,

(a) Coniferous trees include: Japanese red pine, Japanese black pine, momi fir, hemlock, Japanese cedar, Japanese cypress, and Japanese nutmeg-yew.

(b) Broadleaf trees include: cherry, maple, willow, Japanese maple, chestnut, oak, chinquapin, and camphor.

However, even among coniferous trees, pine and cypress leaves differ significantly in form, while broadleaf trees exhibit varied foliage—from the wide leaves of Japanese maples to the palmately divided maple leaves and slender willow leaves.
There are trees whose leaves remain verdant year-round like pine needles, while others like cherry trees flourish green from spring through summer only to gradually yellow as autumn winds arrive before shedding completely when winter comes.
Trees retaining lush foliage through winter—such as pine, chinquapin, and oak—are termed 'evergreen trees,' whereas those shedding leaves annually like maples and cherries are called 'deciduous trees.'
Coniferous evergreens (e.g., pine and cedar) are further classified as 'evergreen coniferous trees,' while broadleaf evergreens (e.g., oak and camphor) become 'evergreen broadleaf trees.'
Similarly, leaf-shedding varieties divide into 'deciduous coniferous trees' (Japanese larch and ginkgo) and 'deciduous broadleaf trees' (cherry and maple).
Though some ginkgo varieties have relatively broad leaves, botanically they remain classified among coniferous trees.

Characteristics of Warm-Temperate Forests (Oak, Chinquapin, and Other Broadleaf Forests)

(4) The Arrival of Spring

When everyone finished their New Year's holidays and returned to school through the cold winds, many trees remained dormant without sprouting buds, appearing withered; however, among them were those like winter hazel that endured the chilly winds early on, adorning their seemingly lifeless twigs with yellow flowers from January to February, as well as wintersweet that bloomed even earlier in the snow with richly fragrant blossoms.
When you saw such things, you might have thought spring had already arrived.
Wintersweet was originally native to China but had been introduced to Japan long ago and now mostly grew as garden shrubs.
In Tokyo, it began opening its buds in mid-January, reached full bloom by February, and continued flowering until early March.

The winter hazel, which blooms early following the wintersweet, grows naturally only in the mountains of Japan—being particularly abundant in the Kiso and Nikko regions—and some are also cultivated as garden trees.

These two stood out particularly among trees blooming from winter through spring.
As the cold gradually abated and March arrived, the landscape became dominated by plum blossoms, forsythias, deutzias, and their kind.
We call trees bearing beautiful flowers like wintersweet and plum "flowering trees," but the plum tree had been cherished since ancient times as preeminent among early spring bloomers, cultivated both as garden specimens and bonsai.
Plum trees naturally suited dry, sunny locations while faring poorly in shade; therefore, when establishing plum groves, south-facing slopes made ideal sites.
Among trees existed varieties thriving in shaded areas alongside those preferring intermediate conditions between shade and sun—each species having suitable and unsuitable terrains.
Of these, those flourishing even in shade we termed "shade-tolerant trees," while sun-preferring varieties we called "sun-loving trees."
Understanding this arboreal characteristic proved essential—whether replacing garden plantings or conducting mountain afforestation, one needed to situate each tree according to its shade tolerance in appropriate locations.

When the plum blossoms had ended and the winds grew warmer each day, the peach blossoms of the Peach Festival and rapeseed flowers came into bloom.
In fields and paddies, dandelions began to glow yellow.
By that time, the riverside willows too sprouted buds, their tender branches beginning to sway in the wind.
Then gradually, the deciduous trees that had completely shed their leaves during winter also began to sprout green buds all at once, basking in the warm sun.
Across fields and mountains, heat shimmers began to dance.
The timing of budding naturally varied by location, but in the Tokyo area, they began to sprout buds from around mid-March to May.
Some had green young leaves like the mountain cherry, others bore beautiful crimson buds like the Japanese holly common in hedges, and pines produced fresh green needles while gradually replacing old leaves that had endured for a year or two.
Then, following the budding of evergreen trees such as Japanese nutmeg-yew, podocarpus, and Tobera, by early May all trees completed their spring attire and prepared for the coming summer life.

(5) Fresh Greenery

The time when trees are adorned with young leaves and fresh greenery makes for a refreshing scene.
If we ask why young leaves display such beautiful red and green colors even among all seasons, it is because those hues come from pigments contained within the surface layer of the leaves—namely the epidermis—and within their internal cells. This occurs because young leaves lack a sturdy outer cuticle and have soft, delicate tissue, making them averse to strong sunlight.
Therefore, by containing pigmented fluid within their interiors to block that intense light, young leaves essentially protect themselves.
However, as the tree leaves gradually develop and their tissues strengthen, the initial color fades away until they finally take on the hue characteristic of that particular tree species.
The reason all leaves turn green by the end of spring lies in this process.
Moreover, while many tree leaves are light green or yellow-green from the start, the color of their young leaves must also be understood to differ according to the tree species.

Even among fresh greenery itself existed variations—deep greens, pale greens, and yellow-greens. For instance, the magnificent suzukake trees lining the roads beside Hibiya Park and along Aoyama-Akasaka Avenue—planted as stately roadside trees bearing bell-like fruits—displayed bright light-green hues. The young leaves of large-leaved Japanese maples with their bluish-smooth trunks showed green tinged with yellow. That such differences occurred within leaves sharing the same green coloration stemmed principally from variations in concentration of green pigment contained within their cellular structures. This green pigment revealed itself under microscopes as beautiful minute green particles termed chloroplasts. Thus green stood as a color inherent to plants—particularly their leaves—so intimately bound to our conception of trees that we could scarcely recall them without immediately summoning this hue.

Suzukake tree

Now that I trust you have come to understand the beautiful colors of young leaves and the green hues of fresh foliage, let me next discuss a little about the life of trees.
First and foremost, lush green tree leaves are the most vital element for plants—indispensable organs for their survival, much like our hearts, stomachs, and intestines.
The chloroplasts within these leaves daily harness sunlight’s power to absorb carbon dioxide—harmful to humans—from the air, while exhaling oxygen indispensable to humankind. They produce nutrients called carbohydrates such as sugar and starch, transporting these from leaves to branches, down trunks to roots, nourishing the entire tree’s growth before storing any surplus.
In this way, as leaves harness sunlight’s power to nourish the tree itself and sustain its life, this process is called "photosynthesis."
The reason tree leaves flourish in lush verdancy is to fulfill this crucial role.
For this reason, after sprouting young leaves, the tree gradually strengthens its foliage, diligently works with the abundant sunlight during the peak of summer to prepare for autumn’s vibrant colors and store nutrients that will sustain it through winter’s arrival.

(6) Summer Scenery

For this reason, in summer, the trees took on a visibly vibrant, lush green color and led lives bursting with vitality.

Everyone, please consider the times when you step onto scorching sandy beaches along the coast or climb mountains while sweating profusely.

Along the coast grow rows of black pines with beautifully spreading branches.
Though both are pines, red pines thrive in mountains while black pines prove most resilient against sea winds.
These forests exist not merely to beautify landscapes but also—as I previously explained—to guard against tsunami damage.
Moreover, fierce sea winds blow beachside sand into dunes before scattering it across fields—at times burying precious rice paddies, cultivated plots, even entire dwellings.
Coastal black pine forests stand watch against such airborne sand invasions.

When climbing mountains, vegetation underwent various transformations from the plains through foothills and mountainsides to the summit—on high peaks near the top, trees naturally disappeared until only herbaceous plants remained, and ascending further ultimately left nothing but rocks devoid of any grass.
Moreover, in valleys, wetlands, and near waterfalls and lakes, unique vegetation thrived, while on plateaus grew plants found only there.
The spectacle of alpine plants continuing to bloom across summer plateaus possessed a beauty unimaginable in the lowlands.
In this manner, I would later discuss in detail matters such as how vegetation changed as one ascended high mountains and about alpine plants.

(7) Autumn Foliage

Alongside the beauty of spring's young leaves and forests in fresh greenery, the autumn foliage scenery of woods after summer's deep green had passed was no less a pride of nature.
Japan had long been home to many renowned autumn foliage destinations, where such vibrant colors could be witnessed throughout the country.

In the Kanto region, places like Nikko and Shiobara were famous; in the Kansai region, Kyoto’s Arashiyama and Takao were well-known.
If one asked why tree leaves turned so crimson, it was due to climatic changes when autumn arrived and temperatures suddenly cooled: the chlorophyll discussed in the section on fresh greenery gradually transformed, resulting in red liquid forming within leaf cells.
The beauty of autumn foliage varied depending on both plant species and their developmental stages while being influenced by surrounding scenery.
Autumn leaves scattered among lush green evergreen trees like pine and fir appeared all the more beautiful before lakes, marshes, or streams - their crimson hues standing out vividly through color composition.

Next, as for what kind of trees show autumn colors, in Japan maple trees (Acer) are the most common. Among these, mountain maples are also often planted in gardens. The autumn foliage found in deep mountains differs in variety; the most beautiful is the Hautihakahede maple, whose large leaves resemble feather fans and measure two or three sun (approximately 6-9 centimeters) in length. Apart from these, even leaves that do not have maple shapes show various autumn colors—this is something everyone must be well aware of. When frost begins to form, the leaves of persimmon trees, the haze trees from which candle wax is obtained, and the nanakamado trees also turn beautifully red, rivaling maple leaves. Not only do leaves turn crimson, but they also frequently change to yellow. Among these, the ginkgo trees in shrine precincts turning a true golden yellow and standing tall make for a truly splendid sight.

(8) Winter Forest

Those autumn mountains and forests dyed crimson and gold completely shed their leaves when winter arrived, taking on a desolate appearance like mere dead trees, with only the evergreen cedars and cypresses retaining their darkened leaves as they awaited the return of warm spring days.

In other words, fallen leaves rested during the cold winter while retaining intact the nutrients that had been vigorously stored in the roots during summer.

However, if you closely examined tree branches during winter—whether deciduous or evergreen—you should have seen that each had buds.
These were called "winter buds." In deciduous trees, they sprouted between branches after leaves had fallen; in evergreens, between existing leaves and branches. Unfazed by the cold, they gradually grew through winter until spring arrived, when they suddenly burst into bud.

This concluded our discussion of trees from their spring budding through winter’s arrival and their waiting for spring’s return once more.

(9) The Account of Old and Famous Trees

After trees take root in the ground, they continue living through the life processes I have described while steadily growing taller. Now, if one asks approximately how many years they live, this varies depending on local conditions and external influences. However, each tree species grows during its own fixed period—many ordinary trees live two to three hundred to five or six hundred years, while some survive for over a thousand years.
If we assume the human lifespan to be fifty years, trees live approximately ten times longer than that.
To explain how we determine those years: aside from planting records, if one cuts a tree horizontally and counts the number of concentric rings visible in the cross-section—layered one upon another—it becomes clear.
These rings are called "tree rings."
If you go to a lumberyard and look at the end of a round timber, you will immediately recognize these as tree rings.
This occurs because trees grow vigorously during summer—put another way, the cells within their trunks actively proliferate—whereas growth halts in winter, leaving these internal cells unable to extend.
When this repetition occurs yearly, only each year's growth portion forms a circular ring, creating distinct divisions.
However, in some trees subjected to sudden climatic changes or temporary defoliation from pests and diseases, exceptions arise in this growth pattern—rings may appear incomplete or fade halfway.
Such partial tree rings are termed "false annual rings."
These must be excluded when calculating the tree’s growth years.

Next, let me list some famous long-lived large trees found in Japan.

When speaking of the largest tree in Japan today, it was the great camphor tree located in Kamo Village, Aira District, Kagoshima Prefecture.
This tree had a trunk circumference of seventy-three shaku eight sun (approximately 22.3 meters) at five shaku (approx. 1.5 meters) above ground, a root circumference of one hundred twenty-five shaku four sun (approx. 38 meters), a height of fifteen ken (approx. 27 meters), and was said to be eight hundred years old.
If one were to lay tatami mats over the cross-section cut from the base of that tree, one could lay sixty-nine tatami mats—which ultimately meant you could fit eight eight-tatami rooms and one five-tatami room.

Next, the Seven Cedars in Suemachi, Takaoka City, Toyama Prefecture, has a trunk circumference of sixty-six shaku (approximately twenty meters) at five shaku (about one and a half meters) above ground, stands over twenty ken (roughly thirty-six meters) tall, and is said to be one thousand years old.
Originally, this tree had seven trunks growing from its rootstock, but five were broken in a violent storm during previous years, leaving only two trunks remaining now.

In Taiwan's Alishan as well, there are splendid giant trees.
The Taiwan hinoki (red cypress) revered as a sacred tree in Alishan has a trunk circumference of sixty-five shaku (approximately 19.7 meters) at five shaku (about 1.5 meters) above ground, stands twenty-five ken (roughly 45.5 meters) tall, and is said to be two thousand years old.
The great torii gates of Meiji Shrine were all constructed from the same wood as this.

Alishan Sacred Tree (Taiwan Red Cypress)

In addition to those mentioned above, there existed old and famous trees throughout Japan that I could not possibly enumerate individually.
In Japan, the largest-growing tree was first the camphor tree, followed in order by Japanese cedar, Taiwan cypress, ginkgo, chinquapin, and pine.

The tallest trees in terms of height were Japanese cedars, and among the cedar forests of Nagakisawa in Akita Prefecture and the Thousand Cedars of Minobu Mountain in Kōshū, some could be seen reaching thirty-five ken (approximately 63.6 meters) in height.
As for tree age, the Alishan red cypress I had mentioned earlier ranked first, with many specimens ranging from 1,200-1,300 years to nearly 2,000 years old.

These old and famous trees remaining in various regions were not only significant as research materials from botanical, forestry, or scenic perspectives, but since they had all remained rooted in their respective lands for hundreds or over a thousand years, they above all served to evoke each region’s past, provide historical references, nurture local pride, and ultimately foster patriotism.
Furthermore, these old trees proved indispensable for investigating Japan’s forest vegetation zones that I would subsequently discuss.

Everyone, having explained these various reasons, I believe you must now understand that we must mutually strive to increasingly value and protect all currently living old and famous trees, doing our utmost to ensure their longevity.

Discussion of Japan's Forest Vegetation Zones

(1) What Are Forest Vegetation Zones?

Anyone who has climbed a high mountain will have noticed that the trees growing thickly there differ completely in species between the base and mid-slope, while near the summit grows yet another distinct type of plant.

Furthermore, what becomes clear when traveling great distances is this—for instance, were one to journey from Taiwan to Kyushu, traverse Honshu lengthwise, and proceed to Hokkaido—in Kyushu thrive trees unseen in Taiwan, and upon entering Hokkaido one encounters entirely different species altogether, creating the distinct impression of having arrived in a foreign land.

In this manner, as differences in elevation and geographical position create variations in temperature—cold here, warm there—the trees growing in each location differ accordingly.

For plants on earth to grow, heat along with light and water must accompany soil.
In tropical zones where these three elements exist abundantly together with heat vegetation thrives most luxuriantly; yet approaching either pole northward or southward gradually diminishes grasses and trees until nothing grows on barren plains.
Yet just as people dwell contentedly even deep in rural areas imagining themselves urbanites so too do plants whether inhabiting torrid zones or frigid climes sink roots wherever tolerable conditions allow survival.
Thus when we recklessly transplanted trees thriving locally elsewhere they rarely took root properly.
Banana trees brought unchanged to Tokyo bore no fruit.
Apple and cherry varieties flourishing cool Ou region failed prospering when planted warm Kyushu.
Trees only achieve full propagation when occupying their optimal habitats.
Hence across Earth whether moving poleward from equator or ascending mountains from coastlines differing temperatures naturally alter tree species composition transforming forest characteristics accordingly.

This state of affairs, where both tree species and forest formations differ according to their respective locations, is designated as the "Forest Zone" or "Forest Vegetation Zone."
To explain plainly, this means that sections of Earth are divided into long, narrow belts along the equator, with each belt fostering distinctly different types of vegetation.

(a) Horizontal Forest Zones.
Just as tree species differed between Taiwan, Honshu, and Hokkaido even on flat land—due to differences in Earth’s latitude—or to rephrase, if one were to move uniformly from the equator toward the south and north—the types of trees growing there and the forms of forests varied as one progressed from warm regions to colder areas—this was what I had now explained.
These multiple belts of forest, each differing in condition, were called "horizontal forest zones."

Therefore, if Earth were a completely flat land without mountains, those green zones would form beautiful concentric rings around the equator extending north and south, encircling the globe. However, in reality, due to the irregular distribution of oceans and mountains, these horizontal forest zones become fragmented in places and form irregular belts further influenced by climate.

(b) Vertical Forest Zones.

Next, forest zones can also be observed vertically.
As one gradually ascends from the coast into mountainous areas and climbs high mountains, the temperature steadily decreases—just as cold intensifies when moving from southern to northern latitudes.
For each degree of latitude advanced, the temperature decreases by approximately one degree Celsius; but in high mountains, for every 150 to 200 meters ascended, the temperature drops by about one degree Celsius, growing colder the higher one climbs.
Therefore, trees growing on such mountains form multiple forest zones stacked between foothills and summit—each differing in appearance due to temperature variations and other climatic changes. These forest zones that appear according to elevation differences are called “Vertical Forest Zones.”

(2) Japan's Forest Zones

I would now discuss Japan's forest zones.

As you know，Japan remains a long，narrow island nation stretching from fifty degrees thirty minutes north latitude at its northernmost point in the Kuril Islands to twenty-two degrees north latitude encompassing Taiwan—geographically situating southern Taiwan within tropical zones，Honshu and Hokkaido within temperate regions，while placing both Kuril Islands and Sakhalin near subarctic boundaries.
Consequently，climatic variations across locations manifested with particular intensity，resulting in naturally divergent tree species compositions among regional forests.
Through systematic classification during my research period，these resolved into four distinct categories：1）Tropical Forests；2）Warm-Temperate Forests；3）Temperate Forests；and4）Boreal Forests.

(a) Tropical Forest (or Banyan Zone).
In Japan, areas classified as tropical forests included the plains of Taiwan averaging below 1,500 shaku in elevation, the southern half of the Ryukyu Main Island, the Ogasawara Islands, and the new territories of the Marshall, Caroline, and Mariana Islands—all lands with an average annual temperature of 21 degrees Celsius or higher.
A characteristic of this zone was that since frost and snow never fell throughout the year, plant growth never ceased entirely.

In the woodlands, banyan trees, red banyan trees, Livistona palms, octopus trees, and others grew so densely that they covered the sky. Among these, since banyan trees were representative of this zone, people also called the tropical forest the Banyan Zone.
Furthermore, coffee plants, coconut palms, rubber trees, meranti used for shipbuilding, and other highly useful trees could generally be cultivated in this zone as well.

Tropical Forest (Hirugi Forest)

(b) Warm-Temperate Forest (or Chinquapin Zone).

The regions belonging to this zone extended from central Okinawa Prefecture northward, encompassing all of Shikoku and Kyushu as well as southern Honshu—lands averaging south of 36 degrees north latitude. In terms of temperature, this zone comprised lands connected by lines of equal temperature—that is, isotherms ranging from 13 degrees Celsius or higher to 21 degrees Celsius or lower. In this zone’s forests, evergreen broadleaf trees such as chinquapin and Japanese chinquapin primarily thrived; black pines grew abundantly in sandy coastal areas exposed to strong sea winds, while numerous camphor trees in the southern regions evoked a warm southern ambiance.

Japanese Chinquapin Tree Fruit and Small Branches

White Oak Acorns and Small Branches

Originally, all trees in this zone were evergreen broadleaf species, with deciduous broadleaf trees such as konara oak and kunugi oak sparsely interspersed among them. However, as evergreen broadleaf trees had been repeatedly logged over time or damaged by wildfires, their numbers diminished, while conversely, deciduous trees and pine forests increased.
Furthermore, as this zone had a mild climate suitable for human habitation and lay below the mid-slopes of high mountains, the land was settled early, possessed a large population, and yielded far more products than other zones.

The hinoki cypress and sugi cedar groves seen in this zone today were those transplanted by people, as originally these trees had naturally grown in temperate forests.

(c) Temperate Forest (or Beech Zone).
This zone followed the Warm-Temperate Forest and was found from northern Honshu to much of southwestern Hokkaido, as well as most of Korea—lands with isotherms ranging from 6 degrees or higher to 13 degrees or lower.
In terms of vertical forest zones, the lower boundary of this zone corresponded to the upper boundary of the Warm-Temperate Forest, while its upper boundary in Taiwan reached a high mountain at 10,000 shaku (approximately 3,030 meters) in the central region.
In Kyushu, the San’in and Sanyo regions, and the Kinai provinces—where mountains were low—the entire upper portion of the Warm-Temperate Forest’s upper boundary extended to the summits. In Shikoku, this boundary lay at 6,500 shaku (approximately 1,970 meters); in the Ou region, it descended further to between 4,700 shaku (1,424 meters) and 3,500 shaku (1,061 meters); in southern Hokkaido, it dropped to 1,500 shaku (455 meters); and at Hokkaido’s center, it finally coincided with sea level.
When it came to what trees grew in this Temperate Forest, the most prominent was the beech tree.
This zone was also called the "Beech Zone" because the beech was its representative tree species.
However, even in lands belonging to this zone, in their southern regions, there were few forests that had grown naturally; people had repeatedly cut them down and planted sugi cedars, hinoki cypresses, and others in their place, resulting in many areas today where beech forests could no longer be found.
However, when one observed how oak species that thrived in the Warm-Temperate Forest naturally disappeared here, and how ancient trees originally belonging to the Temperate Forest remained, it became clear that this area was indeed a Temperate Forest.

Warm-Temperate Forest (Camphor and Other Evergreen Broadleaf Forests)

Thus, while beech was this zone’s characteristic tree species, there could also be deciduous broadleaf trees such as konara oak, mizunara oak, and Japanese horse chestnut mixed in. In some regions, coniferous trees like hinoki cypress, sawara cypress, hiba arborvitae, and sugi cedar were interspersed.
Excluding areas in regions like Kiso and Akita where coniferous trees were specially protected, the rest remained mostly deciduous trees; when winter arrived and leaves fell, the landscape became desolate as if dead trees stretched endlessly toward heaven.

Temperate Forest (Beech Forest)

Beech tree

(d) Boreal Forest (or Sakhalin Fir, Yezo Spruce Zone).
This zone horizontally occupied areas north of central Hokkaido—the northern part of the Temperate Forest—alongside regions below the 6°C isotherm and all territories of the Kuril Islands and Karafuto (Sakhalin).
When viewed vertically, even lowlands within the Tropical Zone like Taiwan contained towering peaks such as Mount Niitaka exceeding 13,000 shaku (≈3,940m), positioning this boreal region above the previously mentioned Temperate Forest.

However, Kyushu possessed no lands within this zone; only Shikoku's mountains surpassing 6,500 shaku (≈1,970m)—Mount Ishizuchi and Mount Tsurugi—revealed glimpses of its lower boundary.
In Honshu, this zone encompassed elevations between 6,000-9,000 shaku (≈1,818-2,727m) across central highlands, while descending to 3,500 shaku (≈1,061m) in central Hokkaido and reaching 2,000-2,500 shaku (≈606-758m) in Japan's Karafuto territory.

This zone primarily consists of evergreen coniferous forests such as Sakhalin fir, Yezo spruce, Ezo pine, and Aomori spruce; however, in Honshu, shirabe and Aomori spruce are abundant near mountain summits, while Taiwan’s high mountains grow Niitaka spruce.

Small branch bearing Shirabe cones

Boreal Forest (Taiwan Niitaka Yezo Spruce Forest)

What I discussed so far—to summarize concisely—comprised both the forest zones thriving appropriately across respective regions from tropical heat through warm-temperate and temperate zones to boreal coldness in sequence, along with each zone's distinctive characteristics.
Having reached this point in our discussion, you might reasonably ask: what becomes of the terrain beyond these boreal forests' uppermost limits?

(e) Shrub Zone (or Dwarf Pine Zone).

When one emerged from the coniferous forests of Ezo pine and Yezo spruce and moved beyond them, the light suddenly intensified, making everything feel abruptly brighter. That area constituted what we call the Shrub Zone, and since dwarf pines were particularly conspicuous there, it was also referred to as the Dwarf Pine Zone. Dwarf pines stretched their arms two or three shaku above the ground, spreading branches in all directions like splayed elbows. Their leaves grew in clusters of five needles with white undersides, differing significantly from ordinary pine trees. Moreover, there were areas where these dwarf pines were absent and shrub-like deciduous trees thrived instead, but the reason dwarf pines and shrub-like deciduous trees grew in this manner was that these high-altitude regions had extremely cold climates and strong winds, causing the trees to naturally become low and stunted.

Those who have climbed the high mountains of Kiso, Kōshū, Shinshū and other regions in Honshu would be well acquainted with this fact, yet in places such as Nikkō’s Shirane-san, Nantai-san or even Fuji-san, one finds no dwarf pines.
In this zone grow rock willow, rhododendron, Japanese rowan, mountain maple, wineberry and others in place of dwarf pine. The rhododendron particularly stands out with its glossy thick leaves, sturdy branches and beautiful flowers, making it readily distinguishable from other trees.
The flowers are ordinarily red in hue, though among them one may also find lovely yellow and white varieties.

All the trees mentioned above had small, low trunks and stems, with many growing clustered together in one place. Moreover, beneath these shrubs here and there, the alpine plants I would next describe grew charmingly. Depending on the mountain, there were also places where the width of this shrub zone became extremely narrow. Within this zone, the herbaceous zone of alpine plants sometimes became interspersed, and at times dwarf pines extended beyond the herbaceous zone to near the mountaintop, which made clear distinctions between each zone difficult.

(f) Herbaceous Zone (Alpine Plants).
The herbaceous zone that people call "alpine meadows" and treasure as mountain flower gardens is this very zone.
The upper part of the previous Dwarf Pine Zone gradually transitions into this Herbaceous Zone.
This zone generally appears near the summits of Japan's various high mountains, reaching heights between 8,000–9,000 shaku (approximately 2,424–2,727 meters) to 10,000 shaku (approximately 3,030 meters).
In the Herbaceous Zone, there exists a distinction between plants that grow in dry areas—termed ‘xerophytes’—and those that thrive in moist environments—called ‘hygrophytes.’ The former take root in arid locations such as rocks and sandy areas, while the latter grow in damp depressions.

In high mountains, such depressions often held water, sometimes forming marshes and accumulating snow among nearby rocks.
In marshes, as this snow melted and flowed in, the temperature of the marsh water became extremely low, making it intensely cold.

In arid areas—namely rocky terrain and sandy soils with scarce moisture—plants could not grow in dense clusters, instead taking root sporadically across stony ground. There, leaves clung close to the earth due to strong winds while roots grew remarkably thick and long compared to their stems, burrowing deep into rock crevices.
Among these plants growing atop fragmented and piled rocks were elegant komagusa with red flowers and crimson-green leaves; miyamashiogama whose stems tipped with four-pronged serrated leaves clustered red lip-shaped flowers; miyamakinbai which bloomed plum-like yellow flowers with three round serrated leaves each on thread-like stems; small turf-like miyamatsumekusa; and takanetsumekusa.

In the crevices of rocks also grew indigo-blue Chishimagikyō and Iwagikyō; Iwaume with flowers resembling white plum blossoms and leaves as thick as beans; Miyamadaikon, which produced kidney-shaped leaves with serrated edges at the base and bore yellow five-petaled flowers on its stems; and Miyama Usuyukisō, resembling Hahakogusa with leaves like white flannel.

Next, the wetland areas of grasslands—referred to as "humus soil"—are rich in earth composed of decomposed plant matter such as withered vegetation, roots, branches, and leaves that have rotted into fertilizer, while also containing abundant moisture. These conditions prove exceptionally favorable for plant growth, resulting in diverse flora growing luxuriantly in dense clusters, with a splendid array of beautiful flowers blooming in full glory.
The plants growing here have leaves and flowers that are larger than those in arid regions, and many display more vibrant colors.
Among golden-colored varieties are *Shinanokinbai* and *Miyamakinpōge*; those that are white and large, resembling plum blossoms, include *Hakusanichige*; pale pink *Iwakagami*; and charming types like *Miyamaodamaki*—there are a great many such species.

Adorned by these many alpine plants, the so-called flower meadows were found abundantly in the various high mountains of the Japan Alps in central Honshu, with those of Mount Hakuba being particularly famous.
When summer came to the summit that had been sealed by snow year-round and the snow melted, right below it, delicate grasses burst into bloom so vividly they seemed to awaken the very eyes.
Adjacent to the pure white snowfield, the feeling one experienced when seeing this flower meadow was indescribably precious, charming, and beautiful.

(g) Lichen Zone.

The Lichen Zone adjoins the upper part of the Herbaceous Zone, though the distinction between these two zones remains unclear. At elevations reaching 10,000 shaku (approximately 3,030 meters), the severe cold and fierce winds make it nearly impossible for even grasses to grow—leaving only lichens clinging to bare rocks.
These lichens cause the rocks to display various beautiful patterns and designs.
In Japan, the position of this zone can be clearly observed at Mount Ontake and Mount Komagatake in Kiso.
The upper part of this zone consists of truly bare rock devoid of even lichen.

(3) Mount Fuji's Forest Vegetation Zone

Thus, I have now examined Japan’s forest vegetation zones both horizontally and vertically.

Next, I will discuss climbing Mount Fuji—a name familiar to all—and its forest zones, thereby making the explanation of forest vegetation zones even more comprehensible.

When climbing Mount Fuji, there are ordinarily three climbing routes: Yoshidaguchi, Gotembaguchi, and Ōmiyaguchi; however, for ascending while viewing the forest zones, I believed it better to choose either Yoshidaguchi or Ōmiyaguchi.
For this discussion's purposes, I assumed we would ascend via the Ōmiyaguchi route.

In those sprawling foothills of Fuji, slightly later than the usual climbing season around August and September, particularly beautiful autumn grasses bloomed in abundance.
There, unlike in spring, new green hues were scarce; yet compared to spring fields, the colors showed more varied beauty.
Beginning with the seven autumn flowers—great burnet, balloon flower, plume grass, golden lace, silvergrass, thoroughwort, and bush clover—various grasses bloomed across the plains.
However, this foothill had not always been such a grassland since ancient times.

In ancient times, this area was covered with trees belonging to the upper part of the warm-temperate forest to the lower part of the temperate forest—that is, evergreen broadleaf trees and deciduous trees.
However, over time, those trees that had existed naturally were burned in fires or cut down with axes until they largely vanished, ultimately transforming into the vast, seemingly endless grasslands we see today.
The reason one now sees groves of Japanese cedar, hinoki cypress, and red pine here and there is that people have newly planted them.

As one gazed upon this foothill scenery while gradually ascending past even the first station and arrived at an elevation of approximately 3,500 shaku, before long both the grasslands and the planted forests vanished, and one entered a far more profound and distinct forest interior.

In other words, we had now entered the upper part of the temperate forest, where deciduous broadleaf trees—towering beeches, oaks, hazels, maples, zelkovas, katsuras, magnolias, lindens, deutzias, birches, and chestnuts—stood luxuriantly. Here and there thrived giant beech trees characteristic of temperate forests, while beneath them one could observe diverse shrubs, herbaceous plants, and climbing vegetation growing vigorously.
As one passed the second station and reached an elevation of approximately 5,700 shaku, the forest underwent an abrupt transformation: the previously abundant broadleaf trees rapidly diminished, while towering giants of evergreen conifers—such as momi varieties, kometsuga pines, and cypress-like Tōhi and shirabe—rose majestically.
In contrast to the pale green leaves of the earlier deciduous broadleaf trees that had been beautiful, here the conifers were dark green; the forest interior held abundant humidity, and beneath the trees—alongside shade-tolerant vegetation—mosses and lichens grew in profusion.

Mount Fuji's Forest Zone

This area is, in other words, the boreal forest—the so-called evergreen coniferous zone.
Then, if one ascends to the fourth station at 8,000 shaku (approximately 2,424 meters), the forest transforms its appearance for the third time, with the evergreen coniferous forest transitioning into a deciduous coniferous forest of Japanese larch.
When one reaches this point, it becomes clear that they have already neared the end of the boreal forest.
In other words, the width of the larch forest has become extremely narrow, and the trees have also grown smaller.
Above that point, deciduous broadleaf trees such as birch and alder, along with small, low-growing plants like rhododendrons that bloom with beautiful flowers, thrive once again.

When one passed through this shrub zone and reached the sixth station at an elevation of 9,000 shaku (approximately 2,727 meters), that point marked the boundary of the forest zone; beyond it lay the herbaceous zone. However, on Mount Fuji, one did not find the flower meadows seen in the high mountains of the Japanese Alps.

From there, one advanced step by step along the rocky and gravel-strewn path, finally reaching the summit at an elevation of over 12,000 shaku (approximately 3,636 meters).

Not limited to Fuji, even when climbing other high mountains, one could successively observe the forest vegetation zones I had just described.

Mount Fuji could be considered to rise almost directly from sea level; however, for mountains that inherently had higher bases from the start, there might be no grasslands at their foothills—allowing one to enter tall tree forests immediately from the base—while the further north one went, even low mountains would visibly show changes in their vegetation through temperate forests, boreal forests, shrub zones, and herbaceous zones transforming according to elevation.

Mountain Animals

(1) Mountain Animals

Japan stretches long from north to south, and as climatic conditions vary across regions, a diverse array of animal species inhabits its lands.
While wild animals alone number 268 species alongside 16 domestic species including cattle and horses, I shall here speak briefly about those creatures dwelling in mountainous areas.
Though I have stated there exist as many as 268 animal species in mountains and fields, when we actually traverse these ranges, we seldom encounter such wildlife.
It remains exceedingly rare for climbers to come across bears.
Nevertheless, it stands as fact that large beasts including bears, wild boars, deer, and Japanese serows inhabit mountains spanning Honshu, Shikoku, and Kyushu.

The bears found in the mountains of Honshu are a variant of the black bears native to the Asian continent.
They inhabit mountainous areas such as Chichibu, Suruga, Kai, Shinano, Sagami, Etchū, and Echigo, favoring tree nuts and wild grapes as their primary food sources.

The bears of Hokkaido all belong to the brown bear species, distinct from those inhabiting mainland Japan.
Some exhibit entirely black bodies with only brown faces, while others display white patches stretching from shoulders to chest.
These creatures demonstrate remarkable proficiency in both tree climbing and swimming.
They primarily forage at night for roots, fruits, fish, and crabs, occasionally venturing into human settlements to abscond with livestock.

The wild boar is an animal resembling a pig in form, its entire body covered in coarse blackish-brown fur; due to its short neck, it cannot abruptly change direction once it begins running.
The wild boar's tusks are developed canine teeth used to hook prey and fend off enemies.
At night, they roam about damaging crops like bamboo shoots, matsutake mushrooms, potatoes, rice, and soybeans, while also consuming tree nuts and preying on field mice and rabbits.

As for deer—I trust you have all observed them frequently and are familiar with their appearance.
Deer are widely distributed across Honshu, Shikoku, Kyushu, Korea, and surrounding regions.
Male deer grow slightly larger than females and develop antlers upon their heads.
These antlers shed annually at roughly fixed intervals, regrowing anew the following year.
With age they branch into forked shapes but never exceed three prongs.
Deer molt their coats twice yearly during spring and autumn.
The dappled fur pattern we call *kanoko* appears specifically in their summer coats.
Their diet shifts seasonally: they favor tender tree buds and succulent grasses in spring; consume grains and buckwheat during summer's growth; and subsist on beech acorns, oak nuts, and chestnuts within forests when winter withers foliage.

Japanese foxes are indigenous to Japan and inhabit mountain burrows.
Their bodies measure about two shaku (approximately 60 cm) in length, with tails extending over half their body length.
Their diet consists mainly of field mice, though near human settlements they occasionally pilfer chickens.
However, fox fur has recently been used to make hats and scarves.
Some have also been imported from America for breeding.

Tanuki are colloquially called *mujina* in certain regions—a local variation where both terms refer to the same animal.
There are also areas that designate badgers as "mujina," while others use the term for tanuki during summer.
Tanuki pelts prove remarkably useful and command high prices.
Though foxes and tanuki were once thought capable of shapeshifting humans, such absurd notions hold no truth.
By nature exceedingly timid, tanuki remain valuable creatures that readily acclimate to human presence.

In addition to these, a small number of wolves remain in Hokkaido.
In mainland Japan, what we call a "wolf" refers to the Japanese wolf.
Moreover, the mountain cats found in mainland Japan's mountains are domestic cats that escaped and gradually adapted to wilderness life.

Next among the intriguing mountain dwellers is what we call the flying squirrel.
It spreads its limbs to glide between trees but cannot ascend like birds.
It simply glides downward from branch to branch.
Those living in northern regions have paler fur coloration, while southern specimens exhibit darker hues.
The pelts of foxes, raccoon dogs, martens, hares, flying squirrels, squirrels, and other mountain animals prove useful wherever found, though northern specimens particularly boast superior quality.

You all must have often seen those cute red-eyed white or spotted rabbits being sold at festival stalls.
However, in the mountains there are brown rabbits.
There are two types of mountain rabbits in Japan: one type is normally brown but turns pure white in winter, and the other remains brown throughout the year.
Rabbits that turn white in winter are called Echigo rabbits and inhabit cold, snowy regions of the country.
In other words, rabbits are animals vulnerable to predators, so when winter snow falls and the fields and mountains turn pure white, they make their bodies similarly white to avoid being easily spotted from outside.
In this manner, the color that they possess—the same as objects in their surroundings to protect themselves—is called “protective coloration.”

(2) Mountain Birds

While ascending plateaus or high mountains, there were times when birds startled by our footsteps would suddenly take flight.
At first we too were startled by their wingbeats, but as we gradually progressed, we rather came to feel a sense of familiarity with these avian departures—as though we had gained traveling companions.
This feeling grew particularly strong when walking through Shinshu's plateaus accompanied by cuckoo calls or climbing through broadleaf forests' cool shade; we felt so addressed by the birds that we wanted to call back "Cuckoo!" in response.
Cuckoos remain mountain birds despite inhabiting relatively lowland areas near human settlements.

Cuckoos belong to the same group as the lesser cuckoo and inhabit tropical zones but migrate to cooler northern regions during summer. Some even pass through Japan and venture to countries further north. The call of the *jihishinchō* (Mercy-Heart Bird) cannot be heard except in the mountains. This bird has an ash-gray back and pale reddish-brown chest and abdomen, allowing it to be distinguished from lesser cuckoos and cuckoos, which have white in those same areas. They are also found in Kiso Ontake and Nikko.

Next came the Buppōsō (Broad-billed Roller), which sang with a crystalline voice; though resembling crows in shape as a member of the woodpecker family, it measured less than half their size. Its plumage showed bluish-green hues, with wings and tail tinged violet. When flying, those wings flashed with truly resplendent colors. This bird possessed not only beautiful feathers but also an exquisite call that persistently echoed “bup-pou-sou.” Though said to be a spiritual bird found only at three sites—Horai-ji Mountain in Mikawa, Koyasan, and Hieizan—where it never revealed itself beyond its voice, its origins as a tropical migrant suggested it must inhabit not merely those three mountains but other remote peaks too.

The osprey had a body measuring up to one shaku (approximately 30 cm) and was covered in dark brown feathers down to its toes. Because its wings were very soft, it didn't make a sound when flying. During the day, it hid in tree hollows and rock crevices, but at night it flew out, glaring its large eyes as it snatched up mice and such, and let out eerie cries of "Hoo, hoo."

This bird formed any indigestible portions of its food into rounded masses within its crop and expelled them through its mouth, which was why pellet-like clusters inevitably accumulated beneath its nest. The horned owl belonged to the same family as the Ural owl, with a beast-like face and ear-like tufts that stood upright. However, these were not earlobes but actually just erect tufts of feathers. Since there were ear holes beneath them, it was thought that the erect feathers might somewhat improve hearing. The feathers were light yellow with dark brown stripes, so it must have been given the name "Torafu." An interesting thing about this bird was that it entered old nests built by pigeons, magpies, squirrels, and others to lay its eggs.

In the shrub zones of high mountains dwelled creatures known as rock ptarmigans. On clear days, they hid in the grass and did not emerge, but on cloudy days, they would come flying out and startle observers. Their cries rang as loud as thunder, making them appear truly robust—birds befitting those that made their home atop high mountains. They were larger than pigeons; during summer, their entire bodies remained dark brown except for parts of their wings and tails, while in winter, they turned white as snow, becoming nearly indistinguishable from it. This was the same protective coloration exhibited by rabbits inhabiting cold regions during winter. Rock ptarmigans fed on shrub pine buds, young shoots of alpine plants, and berries. Being sluggish by nature, they did not flee easily even when people approached. They flitted restlessly through the low-hanging sky, as if one could knock them down with a walking staff. Among other creatures unique to high mountains were rock swallows and rock larks.

(3) Mountain Fish

Though not often seen in mountain streams, there nevertheless exist distinctive fish species inhabiting them. Iwana, yamame, ugui, and ayu stand as the principal varieties; just as high mountain waters remain clear and pure through all seasons, their meat too bears no unpleasant odor and maintains a pleasant flavor. Iwana and yamame swim vigorously through raging currents in rock-strewn valleys—so energetically that they leap two or three shaku (60-90 cm) into the air when startled.

In clear waters, tying rock ptarmigan feathers to your hook's tip—or chicken feathers when unavailable—and casting it out will catch them effectively. For murky waters, bait fishing becomes necessary though a long sturdy rod proves preferable.

Iwana display slightly blackened hues with red-spotted bellies while yamame shine white adorned with beautiful vertical indigo stripes. Moreover, yamame possess more sharply pointed mouths than iwana do—both typically growing seven or eight sun long (21-24 cm).

The Azusa River in Kamikōchi of Japan's Alps once teemed with iwana so abundantly that people claimed one might slip on them underfoot—though their numbers have dwindled noticeably in recent years.

These fish transform into salt-grilled dishes tempura simmered preparations or sashimi—for mountaineers weary of canned provisions they become nothing less than supreme delicacies.

What I have discussed so far includes how forests are profoundly connected to us humans and remain highly beneficial in various ways; then about useful trees; an account of Japan’s forest zones; and stories of animals, birds, and small fish inhabiting mountains.
Now that everyone here has learned about various mountain aspects, when you have opportunities to climb high peaks and observe these things firsthand, you will find even greater interest.—(End)—