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THE CANNERY BOAT
43

“Give it up; it’s no good trying to eat or anything with that going on.”

They threw down their chopsticks and eyed each other blackly.

Many died of beri-beri through having been made to work when unfit. As there was no time to spare even in case of death, they were left lying for days on end.

In the darkness outside, sticking out beyond the end of the matting which had been roughly thrown over, two legs, a dull yellowish-black colour and strangely shrunken to the size of a child’s, could be seen.

“The face is all swarming with flies. It might spring up and yell at you when you pass,” said one man as he came in, rubbing his forehead with his hand.

They were sent off to work before it was light and continued at it until they could not see around them and only the heads of their picks gleamed a pale bluish gleam. The convicts who were building a jail nearby were envied by everyone. The Koreans were treated the worst; they were kicked and trampled on by their own Korean foremen and bosses as well as by their Japanese fellow-workers.

The policeman stationed at the village five or six ri away occasionally paid a visit, trudging along, notebook in hand, to make inquiries. If it got late he would stay over-night, but he never once showed himself in the navvies’ quarters. He would go home with a scarlet face….

Every sleeper on every track in Hokkaido