On the first opening of the New York Aquarium I exhibited a fish from
Japanese waters which was no larger than a man's hand. The Japanese
name of this species is _kingio_, and the fish is very handsome in
appearance, having three perfect tails, and is so graceful in its
movements that these tails resemble folds of beautiful lace. It was
presented to me by a friend of mine in Baltimore, who was in the habit
of spending a portion of each year in Japan. Knowing how far advanced
are the Japanese in pisciculture, this gentleman succeeded in
persuading me to interest myself in their methods. I soon learned that
these three-tailed fishes were the result of the Japanese system of
breeding, of which they alone knew the secret, and when, on
investigation, I learned that their waters contain many varieties of
fish of gorgeous colors, I determined to spare no expense to possess a
collection from this coast, especially after I learned that even Nature
itself seemed reversed there, and that there are fishes in those waters
that swim on their backs.
Supplying a trusty agent with the necessary money, I first sent him to
Yokohama, with letters of introduction to some friends of mine. Here,
assisted by the natives, he commenced forming his collection. The
captured fish were placed in a series of tanks swung from the deck of
the steamer, and so arranged that a constant flow of water from a
cheaply improvised reservoir should keep the fish in a healthy
condition. However, the use of this device proved the inexperience of
the agent, for, although the fish managed to thrive for about twenty
days' time, one after another died until, on the twenty-eighth day of
the voyage, on landing in San Francisco, he was obliged to wire me that
not a single fish had survived the passage. My answer was: "Take the
same steamer back to Japan and try again." This he did, with somewhat
better success, reaching San Francisco with eighteen live fish
belonging to rare and beautiful species. From his description I judged
that they could not be worth less than $1,000 each. My hopes were high
for the ultimate success of the undertaking. But my pleasure was
destined to be short-lived, as my agent arrived at the Aquarium with
only one living fish. The changeable climate and the overland journey
had been too much for the delicate beauties from Oriental waters, and
one by one they had expired, leaving "a sole survivor to tell the
tale."
Just as a matter of personal curiosity I figured up the cost of this
precious member of the finny tribe from far-away Japan. He cost me more
than $2,200 in gold. This may be scoffed at by some as a very fishy
fish story, but when it is remembered that this specimen represented
the outlay of two expeditions from America to Japan, including expenses
for tanks, Japanese assistance, and all the ocean transportation, it
will easily be realized that this statement is within reasonable
limits.