In August of 1903, I was approached with the proposition that I should go to Japan to secure this group and bring it to this country. The plans for the expedition were finally completed in January of 1904, and on the 14th of that month I left St. Louis with one companion, my young Mexican photographer, Manuel Gonzales. Our journey to Yokohama was uneventful. We reached there on February 9th and went up to Tokio on the 10th, where a stop of several days was necessary for making preparations, seeing Japanese officials, securing letters, etc. It was on the night of the day of our arrival there, that the Japanese declaration of war against Russia was made. Not the most favorable hour for asking aid, in a purely scientific enterprise of no public or political character, from busy officials! But, through this period of stress and preparation, of despatching troops and moving war equipment, we were never disturbed or delayed in our mission; those officials, whom we were obliged to meet, received us with the same courtesy and attended to our requests with the same care and promptness, as if it were a time of complete peace. We were profoundly impressed by the business-like and energetic way in which all was done and by the deep feeling, though calm and quiet, among the people. Japan has gone into this war through necessity; she did all in her power to avoid hostilities. But, in going into the war, she expects to win. This expectation is no idle exhibition of over-confidence. She fully realizes the enormous advantages Russia has in size, in numbers, and in resources; but, she expects, nevertheless, to gain the victory, for she feels that it is a question of life and death. The struggle is no new one; nor is it unforeseen. For more than a century, Japanese patriotic writers have urged their nation to prepare herself to resist the aggressions of her powerful neighbor; in 1791 Toshiakira made “a plea for the development of Yezo, in view of Russian aggression.” In 1801 Yamada Ren made “a passionate appeal for colonizing Yezo and thus forestalling the designs of Russia....” The Ainu are not rovers. It is certainly a rare thing for members of the race to leave their home. They have aroused interest for two thousand years. The Chinese Annals tell of four _mao jin_, “hairy men,” who were ship-wrecked on the Chinese coast in the year 310 A. D. In 650 A. D. some of them accompanied a Japanese Embassy to China. So far as we know, none have since left Japan until this group was brought to this country in 1904. It is true that they sometimes form one of the attractions in Japanese circuses and, in 1903, a group of them was shown at the Osaka Exposition, where they attracted a great deal of attention and were so sadly spoiled and corrupted, that we were specially warned against having anything to do with any of the group.