{"id":"01KG8AKYV1W4ME6DHECM68W6S5","cid":"bafkreifamifw6653zt3zqu4bddzj5amo2ujiyzjlc57hmjoiiopaog6ile","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":10312,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:18.539Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 3","source_file":"01KG89J1HYC04JWXEK48P07WPK","start_line":10248,"text":"a glimpse of our fish, while yet alive and hearty.\r\n\r\nWe were alarmed at perceiving, that certain servitors were preparing to\r\naccompany us with trenchers of edibles. It begat the notion, that our\r\ntrip to the fish-ponds was to prove a long journey. But they were not\r\nthree hundred yards distant; though Borabolla being a veteran traveler,\r\nnever stirred from his abode without his battalion of butlers.\r\n\r\nThe ponds were four in number, close bordering the water, embracing\r\nabout an acre each, and situated in a low fen, draining several\r\nvalleys. The excavated soil was thrown up in dykes, made tight by being\r\nbeaten all over, while in a soft state, with the heavy, flat ends of\r\nPalm stalks. Lying side by side, by three connecting trenches, these\r\nponds could be made to communicate at pleasure; while two additional\r\ncanals afforded means of letting in upon them the salt waters of the\r\nlagoon on one hand, or those of an inland stream on the other. And by a\r\nthird canal with four branches, together or separately, they could be\r\npartially drained. Thus, the waters could be mixed to suit any gills;\r\nand the young fish taken from the sea, passed through a stated process\r\nof freshening; so that by the time they graduated, the salt was well\r\nout of them, like the brains out of some diplomaed collegians.\r\n\r\nFresh-water fish are only to be obtained in Mondoldo by the artificial\r\nprocess above mentioned; as the streams and brooks abound not in trout\r\nor other Waltonian prey.\r\n\r\nTaken all floundering from the sea, Borabolla’s fish, passing through\r\ntheir regular training for the table, and daily tended by their\r\nkeepers, in course of time became quite tame and communicative. To\r\nprove which, calling his Head Ranger, the king bade him administer the\r\ncustomary supply of edibles.\r\n\r\nAccordingly, mouthfuls were thrown into the ponds. Whereupon, the fish\r\ndarted in a shoal toward the margin; some leaping out of the water in\r\ntheir eagerness. Crouching on the bank, the Ranger now called several\r\nby name, patted their scales, carrying on some heathenish nursery-talk,\r\nlike St. Anthony, in ancient Coptic, instilling virtuous principles\r\ninto his finny flock on the sea shore.\r\n\r\nBut alas, for the hair-shirted old dominie’s backsliding disciples.\r\nFor, of all nature’s animated kingdoms, fish are the most unchristian,\r\ninhospitable, heartless, and cold-blooded of creatures. At least, so\r\nseem they to strangers; though at bottom, somehow, they must be all\r\nright. And truly it is not to be wondered at, that the very reverend\r\nAnthony strove after the conversion of fish. For, whoso shall\r\nChristianize, and by so doing, humanize the sharks, will do a greater\r\ngood, by the saving of human life in all time to come, than though he\r\nmade catechumens of the head-hunting Dyaks of Borneo, or the\r\nblood-bibbing Battas of Sumatra. And are these Dyaks and Battas one\r\nwhit better than tiger-sharks? Nay, are they so good? Were a Batta your\r\nintimate friend, you would often mistake an orang-outang for him; and\r\nhave orang-outangs immortal souls? True, the Battas believe in a\r\nhereafter; but of what sort? Full of Blue-Beards and bloody bones. So,\r\nalso, the sharks; who hold that Paradise is one vast Pacific, ploughed\r\nby navies of mortals, whom an endless gale forever drops into their\r\nmaws.\r\n\r\nNot wholly a surmise. For, does it not appear a little unreasonable to\r\nimagine, that there is any creature, fish, flesh, or fowl, so little in\r\nlove with life, as not to cherish hopes of a future state? Why does man\r\nbelieve in it? One reason, reckoned cogent, is, that he desires it. Who\r\nshall say, then, that the leviathan this day harpooned on the coast of\r\nJapan, goes not straight to his ancestor, who rolled all Jonah, as a\r\nsweet morsel, under his tongue?\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 3"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJWVXWAQG97F38W72DQJ3","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1HYC04JWXEK48P07WPK","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AKYTWSMTTNCPWCNX8Y5ER","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG8AKYTHZJDAWV3B0NC8GD31","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:21.345Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:33.296Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}