Tigers in Wonsan

A Korean tiger in the early 20th century Courtesy of Diane Nars Collection

By Robert Neff

In May 1880, the Korean port of Wonsan opened to Japanese trade and almost immediately the first tales of tiger encounters began to appear in Japanese newspapers. A Japanese resident in that port described ― almost poetically ― one of these early encounters:

"It was on a dark night, the horn-like moon having sunk behind the western hills, and the dismal sea-breeze blew, chilling one's blood, when a solitary policeman on watch, sitting under a dim flickering light at the front room at the station, perceived something under his knees, sniffing very hard. Thinking it was a dog seeking food, the policeman gave a kick with his boot, but the object did not move, and began to roar louder and louder in a terrible manner, which was quite unlike a dog. Then the man took a steady gaze, [at which time] he saw a wild beast, whose eyes dazzled him. The surprised policeman stood involuntarily, and, drawing his sword, was about to assail the monster, when the latter, without opposition, ran towards the thick bush in the rear of the house, shaking its tail. The man at first did not see what the beast was like, but now he discerned its yellow coloured body with black spots on it, and the whole appearance, with the length of the tail, convinced him that it was a young tiger!"

The Japanese writer noted, with a degree of pride, that "we [his Japanese readers] have seen much in pictures and heard from story-tellers of the capture of wild tigers" by the "bold" Japanese generals during the 1592-98 Japanese invasions of Korea but admitted, "it is terrible to think that we have those beasts in the neighbourhood of our settlement."

Much to the Japanese residents' dismay, there were many visits from these monarchs of the darkness.

A street scene of Wonsan in the late 1890s or early 1900s Robert Neff Collection

In the summer of 1881, a large tiger "visited" the Japanese settlement and "caused great consternation." The Japanese consul reported he was able to ascertain that about 500 tiger and leopard pelts were available annually and that there was a "probability of making a profit on the trade." He claimed that "500 of these skins are worth some 10,000 yen" or about $5,000. Judging from the customs reports for 1883, there weren't as many tiger pelts available as he claimed; only 27 tiger skins were exported and the total lot was valued at $318.

Later in 1881, at least one tiger ― possibly two ― raided the Japanese settlement and killed two calves. As the newspaper noted, this incident "struck a not unnatural terror into the hearts of the inhabitants."

In January 1882, tigers were appearing frequently in the settlement. One morning, tiger tracks 20 centimeters in diameter were discovered in the snow near the Japanese consulate. Shortly afterwards, the local Korean authorities presented the Japanese consul with a dead tiger which was described as being "as large as a cow." The tiger measured about two and a half meters long with 10-centimeter-long fangs and 4-centimeter-long claws.

The Japanese were not the only foreigners experiencing difficulties with tigers. In the winter of 1890, several Western employees of the Korean Customs Service had encounters with tigers. One night, a large tiger passed under the commissioner's bedroom window. The great beast attempted to get into the poultry coop but was foiled, possibly by the commissioner's lantern light or the sudden barking of the settlement's canine guardians.

A leopard killed near the Wonsan area in the early 1920s Robert Neff Collection

Sometimes the guardians fell victim. One night a tiger crept into the compound and snatched one of the dogs. Hearing the frantic yelping of his dog, the customs employee seized his gun and rushed outside to confront the tiger. He "saw the thief standing on the hillside just above his house" and fired but the tiger was unfazed and carried the dog away.

Another customs employee, while bird hunting, encountered a leopard just outside the settlement but "wisely left it alone."

Not all of these encounters ended well for the great cats. In 1890, Wonsan exported seven leopard skins, 30 tiger skins and three live tigers! Even more surprising than the export of live tigers was the fact that Jemulpo (modern Incheon) exported 67 tiger pelts ― an indication of just how many tigers there were near these open ports.

While foreigners in the Wonsan area may have been alarmed and bothered by tigers, it was the Korean population who suffered the most from these great feline monarchs.

A tiger tale on the road to Wonsan

2022-09-18 15:50 | About the past

James Scarth Gale, a missionary, described the horrible tiger predation upon the Korean population in the winter of 1894-95.

One of the first victims was a 12-year-old boy who was attacked by a tiger a short distance ("some yards") from his home in November 1894. The tiger carried the boy away into the underbrush and on the following day the young victim's skull and feet were found behind one of the French missionaries' homes.

Yuri (George) M. Yankovsky poses with two leopards he killed in northern Korea in the mid-1930s. Sten Bergman, "In Korean wilds and villages"

About two months later (in January 1895), a mentally challenged beggar (I am presuming he was a teenager or in his early 20s) was also attacked and devoured.

February was especially brutal. A 14-year-old student was fatally mauled by a tiger as he returned home from school. Some of the residents of his village witnessed the attack but were powerless to prevent it. They gave chase to the tiger but were unable to track it down and kill it.

About 14 kilometers away, near another village, two men were attacked and killed by at least one tiger. The circumstances surrounding the attacks are unclear. This was not the only attack to claim a fully grown man's life that month.

After a dog was snatched by a tiger at one of the villages, but before the tiger could make a clean escape, it was shot in the foot. Following the blood trail, a group of hunters (five men) began tracking the elusive predator only to realize too late that they were being led into an ambush. The tiger sprang out from behind a large rock and managed to kill the lead hunter before it was shot by his companions.

It is easy to imagine that only a lone tiger was responsible for this carnage but this was easily disproven the next month when a small child (five years old) was snatched one evening while following his or her father. It is unclear why the child was out in the evening hours in the last months of winter ― perhaps the father or child was answering the call of nature ― but it was a fatal mistake.

The following day, Japanese soldiers stationed nearby (the Sino-Japanese War had not ended yet) were dispatched to hunt down the beast but failed in their attempt.

It is not surprising that some of Korea's early Western visitors came in search of tigers.

On the road to Wonsan in the early 1900s Robert Neff Collection

In the late 1880s, Norman Henry, a 30-year-old English journalist, tried to procure a tiger pelt in Vladivostok but there the "tiger was a tradition" and all pelts were bought up by the local officials who would pay almost any price to obtain one.

Failing in Vladivostok, Henry traveled to Korea (most likely Wonsan) and began his quest. According to him:

"Was not the tiger a sort of national emblem of the Hermit Kingdom? And is there not a special caste of tiger hunters, the very men who once gave such a thrashing to a French landing-party? In a ride across the country, therefore, I might well hope for a chance."

He was sadly mistaken. Despite his extensive overland travel, he never saw a tiger. In fact, he never even encountered one of the famed tiger hunters who hunted the great beasts. He lamented that "only with much difficulty" did he manage to purchase one pelt of poor quality.

To his earnest (and probably exasperated) inquiries, the most satisfactory response he received was:

"There are two seasons in [Korea]; one in which the man hunts the tiger, the other in which the tiger hunts the man. It is now the latter, therefore, you must come at another time."

Henry may have cursed his apparent bad luck at finding a tiger but he did live a long and full life, dying in 1939 at the age of 81. If he had been successful in encountering a Korean tiger in the wilderness, his life might have been a lot shorter.

Robert Neff has authored and co-authored several books, including Letters from Joseon, Korea Through Western Eyes and Brief Encounters.