We learn that the Emperor accepted this explanation, and ordered that future expeditions should be provided with apparatus for catching the great shark. He even went so far as to arm himself with a cross-bow for his seaside excursions, and while on one of them shot a large fish with his own hand.
This account of the disappointed members of the expedition having returned to China is inconsistent with the colony theory about which I shall have more to say later. There are other variants of the story. For instance, the statesman and author, Liu Hsiang, who was born about the time Ssŭ-ma Ch‘ien died, in one of his Taoist biographies traces the inception of the project to a famous magician named An-ch‘i.[1] Also he estimates the personnel of the expedition at the comparatively modest figure of "several hundreds." And the writer of the Record of the Ten Islands says they numbered five hundred.[2]
A pitiable figure is that of the First Emperor during the last decade of his brilliant reign. We see the conqueror of the world (as the Chinese knew it) obsessed with frantic desire to obtain the secret of the Enchanted Islands in his longing to escape death. He spends his days feverishly roaming the ocean brink, and anxiously interviewing any who might give news of the Islands and their magic agencies. For three successive days and nights he remains in consultation with the magician An-ch‘i,[3] and there are other similar tales.[4] Bereft of his normal senses, he becomes the easy dupe of Taoist vagabonds, however fantastic their claims and projects. Towards the end, the Emperor's credulity turns into suspicion and rage, and we find him ordering 460 scholars and magicians to be put to death, chiefly, it
