"Your help and enthusiasm have enabled me to climb a mountain again after fourteen years. For that I must thank each and every one of you for your friendship and also the Lord above." That is what Bunung aborigine Shih Chin said in late December 1979, when he was carried to the top of Mount Fuji by the Ogaki Alpine Association of Gifu Prefecture, Japan. For a Bunung who makes the mountains his home, it was a thrilling moment as well as one of joy mixed with sadness.

At the end of 1965, the Ogaki Alpine Association organized a mountaineering expedition to climb Yu Shan in Taiwan, and Shih Chin, 32 years old at the time, was one of three Bunung asked to go along on the expedition by the Taiwan Province Alpine Association (the predecessor to the Republic of China Alpine Association).

For Shih Chin, who had lived in the mountains all his life, the climb to the top was no difficult task. On the way down, however, as he was crossing a wooden bridge that the others had gone over first, the bridge broke under him, and Shih Chin, who was carrying the heaviest load and bringing up the rear, fell into the ravine below, breaking his back.

He recalls what happened: "When the bridge fell in, I tried to grab on to what was left with one hand, but I was falling too fast and couldn't hold on. Fortunately, I flipped over on the way down and landed on my backpack, which cushioned the fall and saved my life."

When he came to several minutes later and found himself with no serious visible injuries, he tried to stand up, but his feet wouldn't do as they were told and a moment later his back was seared with pain. The two other Bunung chopped down a tree and carried him down the mountain on a stretcher.

He was released from the hospital after a year of treatment, but for the rest of his life he has had to depend on a wheelchair and crutches to get around.

To make a living, Shih Chin left the mountains and moved to Pingtung, where he learned piano tuning and enjoyed pretty good business. Members of the Ogaki Alpine Association would visit him every two or three years, whenever they organized an expedition to Taiwan. They always felt they should take moral responsibility for his injury because he was working for them when it happened.

Impelled by this way of thinking, the club invited him to Japan, and they asked him what he would like to do most there. "Climb a mountain!" he replied.

That was how Shih Chin came to arrive in Japan fourteen years after his injury, an event that was a big news item at the time.

There he reached the tops of Mount Fuji, Mount Ibuki, and the Kita Alps. At 3,776 meters, Mount Fuji is the highest peak in Japan.

Shih Chin was carried up to the top in turns by mountain climbing enthusiasts of Ogaki and Yamanashi, accompanied by a doctor for extra safety. What feelings must have welled up in his heart as he stood with crutches on the peak!

Consider the case of local mountaineering, on the other hand, in which Bunung sherpas are often asked to carry loads of 70 or 80 kilos along with other assorted items. The prolonged overexertion exacts its toll: At fifty or sixty, most Bunung, who once strode up the mountains with ease, suffer from knee ailments and have difficulty walking.

In view of how well the Japanese can treat a sherpa from another country, local mountain climbers should pay more heed to the rights of aborigines. Otherwise there may come a day when the aborigines form a union, and then. . .

[Picture Caption]

A picture of Shih Chin before his injury on an expedition up Yu Shan with the Ogaki Alpine Association.

Shih Chin being carried to the peak of Mount Fuji.

The Ogaki Alpine Association has treated Shih Chin like an honored guest, feeling they should bear moral responsibility for his injury.

Shih Chin being carried to the peak of Mount Fuji.

The Ogaki Alpine Association has treated Shih Chin like an honored guest, feeling they should bear moral responsibility for his injury.