In 1870 my men captured the first seals, or "sea-lions," as we termed
them. The hunters experienced no difficulty in ensnaring these
creatures by means of wire nets. This observation is a most interesting
one in view of the fact that later we found it impossible to procure
them by this method, showing that their intuitive sense of
self-protection had taught them to fear man and to avoid his devices.
No sooner did we find that these curious creatures had learned wisdom
from the experience of their unfortunate fellows than we set about to
originate some other plan by which we might make captives.
Each of our first seals cost more than would five good specimens
to-day, and they died before we could perfect our arrangements for
exhibiting them. This was very discouraging, but we determined to try
again, and our renewed efforts were rewarded with better success. One
of the captives was an enormous creature and lived until the Fourteenth
Street fire, when he was burned, together with $300,000 worth of other
personal property.
Some of these monster sea-lions are very deceiving when seen in their
native element and surroundings. At a little distance they do not
appear larger than an ordinary Newfoundland dog, but when captured are
found to weigh from twelve hundred to two thousand pounds, and to
measure from thirteen to fifteen feet in length. It is a splendid sight
to see these glossy creatures leap from overhanging cliffs into the
water fully fifty feet below.
After our first capture there was a great demand for these animals from
superintendents of zooelogical gardens in all the large cities of this
and foreign countries. Realizing the large profits to be acquired by
meeting this demand, I greatly desired to replenish our stock of
sea-lions, and made an arrangement to that end with a man in
California. We supplied him with all the money he required, which
mounted high in the thousands of dollars by the time he had captured
about three carloads of the interesting creatures. The man then came on
to New York and delivered ten of the animals to us, stating that the
others were en route. We at once wrote to the zooelogical gardens at
Cincinnati and Philadelphia, offering to supply them with these rare
animals. Imagine my surprise and indignation when I received answers to
these communications, stating that the gardens had already procured
sea-lions--from our agent! Of course we instantly made an
investigation, and discovered that this crafty hunter had also supplied
various European institutions with sea-lions, for the capture of which
we had furnished the money. The fellow disappeared before we were
thoroughly alive to the extent of the swindle which he had carried
forward to such a brilliant success, and I have never seen him since.
As he was "a canny Scot," he probably retired to his native heath and
purchased himself a castle in the Highlands. Certainly he could easily
have done this on the proceeds of his nefarious enterprise, for at that
time the sea-lions commanded from $2,000 to $2,500 each in the European
cities, and the market could not be satisfied even at that price. Take
several carloads of sea-lions at these figures and the total would
represent a snug little fortune.
Afterwards when I opened the New York Aquarium, I bought a large sea
lion, had an immense tank built, and a rock cliff made for him so he
could jump into the water and sport around; but he kept up such a
constant barking that he became a great nuisance. Having a showman
friend who intended to spend the winter in Bermuda I permitted him to
take the animal for exhibition purposes. Some few weeks afterwards I
was surprised to receive a note from my friend saying he had returned
the sea-lion and that he would follow on the next boat. No sooner was
the sea-lion comfortably ensconced in his old quarters than he again
began barking to such an extent that I heartily wished him in the
Atlantic. His appetite, too, was most voracious, and we could scarcely
get enough live fish to satisfy him. The strange thing about it was, as
I learned on the arrival of my showman friend from Bermuda, the old
fellow had refused food during the whole trip, and instead of barking
and attracting attention, as we had hoped he would do, he had silently
sulked until once more in the old home in the Aquarium. From this I
gather that the barking which was so disagreeable to us must have been
his expression of joy. The fact that he lived so long without food is
most remarkable.