Nekoliko godina kasnije isti magazin je objavio jos jedan tekst koji je i dalje davao pogresne informacije i tako je bilo sve do 1960. godine.
Originalni tekst:
The Aquarium - December, 1946
The Return of The Discus
by Henry A. Nichols
WE are at last approaching the day when rare aquarium fishes, so long absent from our collections, once more may be available to the lucky fanciers who can obtain them. To some degree they will be a little easier to obtain than they were in prewar days, for shipment by air will result in the happy landing in northern lands of many fishes which could not withstand the relatively long journies by ship and railway. Nevertheless, the advent of the swiftest commercial strato-liners will still not render commonplace the truly rare Exotics. Before they are placed on the loading platform at an airdrome in one of the hot countries, they must be collected, and that cannot be done any more quickly or cheaply now than it could twenty years ago. After he reaches the airport nearest the stream in which he intends to hunt, the collector still must combat such matters as training and paying for native help, the avoidance of rampant tropical diseases, protection against virulent insects and reptiles, and a few other matters that have no relation whatever to the miracles of modern transportation. All of which should be taken into consideration if a dealer asks a moderately high price for a selected pair of fishes.
One of the leading New York importing firms, the Paramount Aquarium, recently returned to the market one of the most outstanding of the rare exotic fishes—Sympbysodon discus, the Pompadour Fish. Paramount's President, Mr. F. Cochu, began last winter to lay his plans for returning to his old hunting-spots, in South America, from which some of our most beautiful aquarium fishes already have come, and where there undoubtedly are still more magnificent new species, still unrevealed. On Christmas Day of 1945, Mr. Cochu and his "old standby," M. Rabaut, left Florida for the Brazilian jungles in an ancient double-wing Clipper. They were sure, after a few hours, that they would never get back to New York alive, or, for that matter, even reach their intended base of operations. The plane had obviously never been designed for days over impenetrable jungles or the elevations of more than 12,000 feet that are required to cross the Andes. Finally, however, after some four days of flight, they located the Amazon about 1,000 miles upstream from the closest seaport.
First investigations revealed that virtually none of their old-time, thoroughly-trained native helpers were to be found. The Piranhas and alligators had accounted for some of them. Others had followed a gold rush or moved off to the new rubber plantations that wartime demands had developed. Still others had succumbed to one of the myriad diseases that are virtually uncontrolled in that part of the world.
However, the two fish collectors finally got themselves organized, and, as Mr. Cochu puts it, they "fished and fished and eventually managed to catch about 10,000 specimens; some of each of a number of species, but nothing rare." But it was a start, and enough were brought safely home to cover expenses, and to announce to members of our hobby that importations were beginning to arrive again. The return trip was made in February, by air to Florida, and from there the fishes were trucked to New York—at just about the worst time in the year to bring in a shipment of Tropicals. The greatest disappointment, of course, had been their failure to get in touch with their former native helpers, for it takes a long time to train wild men to hunt for non-edible fishes that are to be handled very carefully and moved long distances alive.
In March, Mr. Cochu returned once more to South America, and this time he went alone—not to fish but simply to try once more to round up sufficient of his experienced native fishermen. After travelling for a great many miles up and down a large number of jungle streams, he located a few of them, who agreed not only to come back to work for him, out to show unskilled fishermen how to hunt for aquarium Exotics for the New York market. This accomplished, Mr. Cochu returned to this country, stocked up with a good supply of collecting and shipping equipment, motors, medical and food supplies, etc., and went back to the jungle again - this time accompanied by two of his American assistants, Messrs. Kramer and Krause, who both were well acquainted with life in the great tropical jungles.
Starting off in different directions, the three men each made nice collections and finally met at a selected central point from which all were to move back toward an airport. Mr. Kramer, however, turned up with a raging fever and an injured leg, and he was forced to leave his collection behind him and fly at once to the United States for treatment. After several weeks he was quite recovered. Mr. Cochu, who has already departed on his seventh South American trip since the end of the war, tells us that he rarely makes such a journey without losing approximately twenty pounds, but that his wife's good care and nourishing food quickly return him to full strength again, after he gets home.
Speaking of Symphysodon discus, Mr. Cochu reports that when he was finally able to start hunting again for this beautiful aquarium species, he found that there were absolutely none in the waters where they had originally been trapped. There were a number of other species quite at home there, but not a sign of a Pompadour. He could not understand this strange disappearance, even though the fish had never been particularly plentiful, and he was getting extremely worried, when, one day, on a more or less aimless excursion up a small tributary to the great Amazon, he pulled in his net and found in it two fine Discus. He tells us that it was all he could do to resist jumping into the water to be sure to land those two safely into his boat. After a little more work in the same spot he caught six more, and then had to return to his camp for food. In that part of the world one can sometimes go a little while without adequate nourishment, but not for long, especially when doing any fairly heavy work. However, as soon as he had laid in a good stock of supplies. Mr. Cochu went back to his newly discovered Discus spot and caught 32 more, for a total of 40 fine specimens, all of which he was able to transport safely, and in perfect condition, to his hatchery in Ardsley, New York.
How many of these rare and beautiful fish Mr. Cochu intends to place on sale, and how many he may keep in the hope of breeding them, we cannot say. In 1934 one pair, owned by the late Gus Armbruster, a Philadelphia dealer, produced a number of large spawns, much in the manner of the Scalare. Only three of them hatched, however, and of these only a portion of one lot could be saved for more than a few days, because it was apparently impossible to supply them with just the right infusoria, except on this single occasion. We are not sure, of course, but since the grown Discus has a notably small mouth for so large a fish, it seems possible that their fry require food considerably smaller than that taken by most other baby Cichlids. At any rate, Mr. Armbruster was able to grow 35 young Discus to fair size. Many fanciers then believed that it would be only a matter of time before later generations, produced from these tank-bred specimens, would become as plentiful and cheap as the Scalare. But that never happened. The big pair stopped spawning for keeps and not a single one of the youngsters ever showed the slightest interest in breeding.
Before the war, it was more or less a tradition that "Discus eat nothing except Tubifex "Worms." The present specimens, however, readily accept Daphnia, Enchytrae, Ghost Worms and, in at least one case, infant Guppies— although the fish are so peaceful that they make no attempt to bother large Guppies and certainly could not swallow one. It may be that acceptance of a more varied diet will result in the present-day Discus being more fertile than were the pioneer stock. Moreover, Mr. Armbruster used to keep all of his fishes at a very high temperature. That is excellent for forcing growth, but it undoubtedly results in shorter life and, quite possibly, in decreased fertility as well. We shall await with interest such reports as may come in on the current crop, and perhaps this time some lucky aquarist will determine a way to bring true that great dream of all fish fanciers — "Tank-raised Discus, guaranteed mated pairs."