HEAD OF ROYAL BENGAL TIGER.
[a]Mounted by the Author.]

TAXIDERMY

And

ZOOLOGICAL COLLECTING

A COMPLETE HANDBOOK FOR THE AMATEUR TAXIDERMIST,

COLLECTOR, OSTEOLOGIST, MUSEUM-BUILDER,

SPORTSMAN, AND TRAVELLER

By

WILLIAM. T. HORNADAY

For eight years Chief Taxidermist of the U.S. National Museum; for seven years
Zoological Collector and Taxidermist for Ward's Natural Science Establishment;
late Superintendent of the National Zoological Park;
author of "Two Years in the Jungle," etc.

With Chapters On

COLLECTING AND PRESERVING INSECTS

By W.J. HOLLAND, Ph.D., D.D.

Chancellor Western University of Pennsylvania; President of the Academy of Science and Art of
Pittsburg, and the Iron City Microscopical Society; Life Member of the Ent. Soc.
of France; Fellow of the Ent. Soc. of London, etc.

Illustrated by CHARLES BRADFORD HUDSON

And Other Artists

24 plates and 85 Text Illustrations

FOURTH EDITION

NEW YORK

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS

1894

Copyright, 1891 by
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
TROW DIRECTORY
PRINTING AND BOOKBINDING COMPANY
NEW YORK

To
G. BROWN GOODE, LL D.
WHOSE LIBERAL POLICY HAS DONE SO MUCH
FOR THE ADVANCEMENT OF AMERICAN TAXIDERMY
THIS BOOK IS INSCRIBED AS AN EXPRESSION
OF APPRECIATION OF HIS VALUABLE PUBLIC SERVICES IN THE
ORGANIZATION, DIRECTION, AND DEVELOPMENT OF
THE UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM
AND ALSO OF
SINCERE PERSONAL REGARD

PREFACE.

In these heydays of popular zoology, when eager young naturalists are coming to the front in crowds, and fine new scientific museums are starting up on every hand, there is small need to apologize for the appearance of a work designed expressly for the naturalist and museum-builder. Had justice been done, some one would have written this book ten years ago.

The rapid and alarming destruction of all forms of wild animal life which is now going on furiously throughout the entire world, renders it imperatively necessary for those who would build up great zoological collections to be up and doing before any more of the leading species are exterminated. It is already too late to collect wild specimens of the American bison, Californian elephant seal, West Indian seal, great auk, and Labrador duck. Very soon it will also be too late to collect walrus, manatee, fur seal, prong-horn antelope, elk, moose, mountain sheep, and mountain goat. All along the Atlantic coast and in Florida the ducks are being exterminated for the metropolitan markets, and the gulls, terns, herons, egrets, ibises, and spoonbills are being slaughtered wholesale for the equally bloodthirsty goddess of Fashion. If the naturalist would gather representatives of all these forms for perpetual preservation, and future study, he must set about it at once.

This work is offered as my contribution to the science of zoology and the work of the museum-builder. It is entirely "an affair of the heart," and my only desire in regard to it is that it may be the means of materially increasing the world's store of well-selected and well-preserved examples of the beautiful and interesting animal forms that now inhabit the earth and its waters. The sight of a particularly fine animal, either alive or dead, excites within me feelings of admiration that often amount to genuine affection; and the study and preservation of such forms has for sixteen years been my chief delight.

In these pages I have sought to give, in clear language, the detailed information which I have found deplorably lacking in all "manuals" on this subject that I have ever seen, save one, in French, published many years ago, and which, while very tiresome to write out, are precisely what the practical worker wants. I hold a permanent grudge against those who have written before me on the subjects here treated of, because of what they did not write. The average book on taxidermy contains four times too much "padding," and not one quarter enough practical information. "If this be treason, make the most of it."

The students of entomology are indebted to Dr. Holland for his admirable chapters on Insects, and I leave them to make their own acknowledgments. My own very sincere thanks are hereby tendered him for his valuable contribution to this work, thereby making it complete. I am also under obligations to Mr. Charles Bradford Hudson, the accomplished artist, whose skill has done so much to explain and embellish the text. The spirit and interest with which he entered into his share of the work very materially lightened and encouraged my own tardy labors.

My thanks are also due to my valued friend, Mr. Frederic A. Lucas, of the Department of Comparative Anatomy, National Museum, and one of the founders of the Society of American Taxidermists, for advice and assistance in the preparation of the illustrations relating to work on skeletons. Mr. W. Harvey Brown, Naturalist of the U.S. Eclipse Expedition to Africa, kindly wrote for me nearly all of the chapter on "Mounting Disarticulated Skeletons;" Messrs. William Palmer and John W. Hendley, of the National Museum, also rendered me valuable services; for all of which I gladly record here an expression of my thanks and appreciation.

Having already retired from taxidermy forever, this is positively my "last appearance" in this field.

W.T.H.

Buffalo, N.Y.

CONTENTS.

Part 1.

COLLECTING AND PRESERVING.

Part 2.

TAXIDERMY.

Part 3.

MAKING CASTS.

Part 4.

OSTEOLOGY.

Part 5.

THE COLLECTION AND PRESERVATION OF INSECTS.

Part 6.

GENERAL INFORMATION.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

FULL-PAGE PLATES.

TEXT ILLUSTRATIONS.

PART I.

COLLECTING AND PRESERVING.

PART II.

TAXIDERMY.

PART III.

MAKING CASTS.

PART IV.

OSTEOLOGY.

PART V.

THE COLLECTION AND PRESERVATION OF INSECTS.

TAXIDERMY AND ZOOLOGICAL COLLECTING.

PART I.—COLLECTING AND PRESERVING.

Eternal vigilance is the price of a collection.

[CHAPTER I.]

THE WORKER AND THE WORK TO BE DONE.

The need of thoroughly skilled collectors is increasing every hour; and right here let me say to the young naturalist athirst for travel and adventure, There is no other way in which you can so easily find a way to gratify your heart's desire as by becoming a skilful collector.

The most important vertebrate forms are being rapidly swept off the face of the earth by firearms, traps, and other engines of destruction. In five years' time—perhaps in three—there will not be a wild buffalo left in this country outside of protected limits. There are less than one hundred even now—and yet how very few of our museums have good specimens of this most interesting and conspicuous native species.

The rhytina, the Californian elephant seal, the great auk, and the Labrador duck have already been exterminated. For many years the West Indian seal was regarded as wholly extinct, but a small colony has lately been discovered by Mr. Henry L. Ward on a remote islet in the Gulf of Mexico. The walrus, the manatee, the moose, mountain goat, antelope, mountain sheep, the sea otter, the beaver, elk, and mule deer are all going fast, and by the time the museum-builders of the world awake to the necessity of securing good specimens of all these it may be too late to find them.

Even in South Africa, where big game once existed in countless thousands, nothing remains of the larger species save a few insignificant springboks, and no game worth mentioning can be found nearer than the Limpopo Valley, eight hundred miles north of the Cape!

Now is the time to collect. A little later it will cost a great deal more, and the collector will get a great deal less. Sportsmen, pot-hunters, and breech-loading firearms are increasing in all parts of the world much faster than the game to be shot, and it is my firm belief that the time will come when the majority of the vertebrate species now inhabiting the earth in a wild state will be either totally exterminated, or exist only under protection.

But do not launch out as a collector until you know how to collect. The observance of this principle would have saved the useless slaughter of tens of thousands of living creatures, and prevented the accumulation of tons upon tons of useless rubbish in the zoological museums of the world. It costs just as much to collect and care for scientific rubbish as it would to do the same by an equal number of scientific treasures. Between fool collectors on one hand, and inartistic taxidermists on the other, the great majority of the world's zoological museums have been filled with objects that are anything but attractive; and for this state of affairs the collectors are more to blame than the taxidermists.

Bad work in collecting is, in nine cases out of ten, due to one of two causes—ignorance or laziness. By some curious process of reasoning, many really intelligent men conclude that they can go into the field and collect successfully without having learned a single thing about methods, or asked a word of advice from a competent instructor. Many seem to think that the only thing required is main strength, and that even that may be exerted by proxy. Even now, men who have travelled and written books go to South America and dry all their skins in the sun—after having carefully removed all the leg bones—and their small skeletons they boil!

Some of the worst mammal skins I ever saw were made by a professor of natural history, who actually managed to do nearly everything as it should not have been done. And yet, collecting all kinds of animal specimens, in all climates, is perfectly simple to any one who has enough enterprise to inform himself of the most reliable methods, and put them in practice.

I will confess I feel very deeply on this point, for I have toiled, needlessly, unnumbered hours, and days too, in overcoming, as far as possible, the inexcusable blunders of collectors. I have seen thousands of dollars wasted in this way that could have been saved by good work in the field. It is easier to mount two good skins within five per cent of perfection than to mount one poor one not nearly so well. Let me advise the directors of all scientific museums, institutions of learning, and patrons of natural history generally, when appealed to by an enthusiastic collector for funds with which to go abroad and collect an untold amount of priceless specimens, in every case withhold your aid until the would-be collector demonstrates conclusively that he has learned how to collect. If he has not wit enough and grit enough to acquire ability, and then prove property, he is not fit to send anywhere, save back to the bosom of his family.

These are the qualities which are required to make a first-class collector: He must have a fair general knowledge of zoology, especially the vertebrates. He must be a good shot, a successful hunter, and capable of great physical endurance. Then he must be a neat and skilful operator with the knife, and conscientious in the details of his work, down to the smallest particulars, for without this quality his specimens will always be faulty and disappointing. In addition to all these requirements he must be a man of tireless energy, incapable of going to bed so long as there are birds to be skinned, and who, whenever a doubt arises in his mind in regard to the necessity of more work on a specimen will always give the specimen the benefit of the doubt.

I strongly advise every one who becomes a collector to learn to sketch from nature. No matter whether you have any artistic ability or not, if you are determined about it, you can learn to make pencil sketches of rare specimens in the field, and of native houses, costumes, weapons, etc., and remarkable natural objects of all kinds, which, even though crude and inartistic in finish, may be of permanent value to the scientific world. The camera and dry plate are of great value, but commend me to the pencil and sketch-book that "sticketh closer than a brother," and that never fail you on account of weather, weight, or accidents. Therefore I say, sketch; sketch poorly if you cannot sketch well, but above all, sketch.

The moment you make up your mind to go on a collecting trip, even if be only into the next county, read everything you can get hold of which will tell you aught about the natural history of the country you are to visit. Ask what has been written, search library catalogues for titles of books, then get all you can, and read all you get. Only the churl will refuse to lend you a book you cannot afford to buy. Read all about the physical geography, geology, climate, inhabitants, fauna and flora, for all these will have a direct bearing on your work. If you are going to unexplored territory, about which nothing has been written, then "read up" on the adjacent countries, for even that will be very useful information.

Guides and Companions.—No matter where you go, you will be obliged to have one or more companions, who know the country, to act as guides and general assistants. It may be that you can find a single person combining the necessary qualities of a guide and interpreter with those of a boatman, a teamster, or porter. The expense of such assistants must be counted upon from the very first. It may be stated as a general rule that in the tropics the services of natives can be had cheaply; while those of Europeans are generally dear in comparison with what they do.

Clothing and Food.—These subjects I propose to leave entirely alone. They make excellent "padding" for a work of this kind when there is a lack of really useful information with which to fill up; but every man feeds and clothes himself according to the dictates of his temperament, his purse, or his own sweet will. Whether his way is the best or the worst, he will still have food and clothes more or less suitable to his needs, and time spent in advising him what to wear and to eat is time wasted. These questions are generally controlled by the locality and circumstances.

Preservation of Health.—There are certain hygienic principles which apply all the world over, and since their observance becomes in the tropics a question of life and death, I will record them. Their observance has preserved my health intact in unwholesome jungles in a way that I consider nothing short of wonderful.

Never sleep on the ground in the wet portions of the tropics when possible to avoid it, but keep above the poisonous miasmatic vapors that lie close to the earth.

Boil water before drinking it, if it is thought to be bad, and avoid stagnant water at all times.

Drink no spirits whatever except when really sick or debilitated, nor wine, nor other alcoholic beverages. Avoid brandy, whiskey, and rum as you would the plague.

Eat no unripe fruit, and with moderation of even ripe fruits, excepting bananas, which are harmless and most excellent food.

Avoid eating large quantities of meat, but give the preference to rice, and farinaceous foods generally.

Wear light flannel shirts, and at all hazards keep the head and nape of the neck well shielded from the sun. Pith helmets are best.

After getting wet, do not sit down in the hot sun with your wet clothes on, but if you must remain in the sun, keep moving.

By means of rubber clothing, or "ponchos," keep from getting wet whenever you can.

On coming into camp with wet garments, do not sit down in them to rest, but change immediately to dry clothing and footgear. The strict observance of this rule will save many an attack of fever.

Medicines.—Every traveller or collector who goes beyond the ready reach of doctors (and for that matter also every family living in the country) should have a small box filled with certain medicines and simple appliances as a resort in all cases of emergency. Very often a deal of mischief can be prevented by having the proper remedy at hand and ready for immediate application. Who has not seen great suffering endured for the lack of a simple remedy costing only a few cents? No matter where I go in the field, or how much luggage I am impeded with, I always carry with me a small, square, japanned tin box (10 inches long, 7 inches wide, and 4 inches deep) which contains the following:

The above makes a formidable showing, but the whole stock costs only about three dollars and fifty cents, and the box, with lock and key, about one dollar more. I have lately added to this outfit a most valuable and helpful little book, entitled "Till the Doctor Comes," by George H. Hope (G.P. Putnam's Sons, New York), which to any traveller or country dweller is worth twice its weight in gold. Fortunately, however, it costs only fifty cents, and no one need be without it.

While a traveller or hunter should never drink brandy or whiskey as a beverage, it is a most excellent thing to have in many cases of sickness or accident, when a powerful stimulant is necessary. Above all things, however, which go farthest toward preserving the life of the traveller against diseases and death by accident, and which every naturalist especially should take with him wherever he goes, are habits of strict temperance. In the tropics nothing is so deadly as the drinking habit, for it speedily paves the way to various kinds of disease which are always charged to the account of "the accursed climate." If a temperate man falls ill or meets with an accident, his system responds so readily to remedies and moderate stimulants that his chances for recovery are a hundred per cent better than those of the man whose constitution has been undermined by strong drink.

There are plenty of men who will say that in the tropics a little liquor is necessary, "a good thing," etc.; but let me tell you it is no such thing, and if necessary I could pile up a mountain of evidence to prove it. The records show most conclusively that it is the men who totally abstain from the use of spirits as a beverage who last longest, have the least sickness, and do the most and best work. As a general rule, an energetic brandy-drinker in the jungle is not worth his salt, and as a companion in a serious undertaking, is not even to be regarded as a possible candidate.

[CHAPTER II.]

OUTFITS, AND HINTS ON HUNTING.

In making up an outfit with which to work on specimens in the field, away from civilization perhaps, you must first decide definitely upon the line of work you intend to do, for upon this the extent and character of your outfit must depend. The requirements to be met are economy of space, weight, and labor, with no necessary article lacking. The mere item of keeping one's tools in order, and always accessible, is much more important than it would at first seem to be. There must be no confusion, and not a single article must get lost. Good tools, and plenty of them, in good working order, go a great way toward the production of faultless specimens, having the highest possible value.

I think I may say without boasting that on my third collecting trip abroad (to the East Indies) my outfit came as near perfection in size and arrangement as can ever be reached without far greater expense than that entailed. I was obliged to pack and unpack the whole of it at least fifty times, but its arrangement was so systematic and compact that the complete packing up never required more than fifteen minutes, and I could go to it in the dark and find any article desired, even to a needle and thread.

The whole arrangement was very simple. To start with, the entire outfit of firearms, ammunition, tools, hunting-gear, and a good stock of preservatives was contained in an iron-bound black walnut chest about the size of a carpenter's tool-chest.

To keep my loading implements and ammunition in order, I had an ammunition-box of walnut, 14-1/2 inches long, 12-1/2 wide, and 4-1/2 deep, outside measurements, divided inside into five compartments, which held and kept in order all the appendages belonging to my three guns, and enough ammunition to last a month for ordinary shooting.

Another small box, made of ash, one-quarter of an inch thick, and divided into four compartments, contained an assortment of knives, labels, and small tools (see list below), and was in every way multum in parvo. Both these boxes had their places in the chest, and my guns, each in its own box-case, were provided for in the same receptacle. I have had made for collectors going out from the National Museum nearly a dozen tool-boxes in exact duplication of the original mentioned above, and I can confidently recommend both it and the ammunition-box as serving their purposes most satisfactorily.

Since my outfit for the East Indies proved very satisfactory, and with one or two additions is precisely what I should take were I to go again on a similar expedition, I give below a full list of its contents. The additions I should make would be a Winchester 7-shot repeating rifle, calibre 45-75, with the necessary ammunition, a double-barrelled breech-loading gun, No. 12, and possibly a wooden tank 2 feet × 2 feet × 2 feet, with a screw top, for the preservation of mammal skins in a salt and alum bath. This last addition is rendered necessary by the fact that I have adopted a different method of preserving skins from that I had followed up to that time. Instead of drying all skins as I did then, I now preserve the majority of them in a wet state, and keep them so, except such as are desired as skins for study, and not for mounting. The apparatus necessary for collecting insects will be described in the section devoted to work of that class.

Outfit for General Collecting,

Vertebrates and Invertebrates, both Large and Small, Dry and in Spirits, and on a Large Scale.

With this outfit I collected, in two years, more than $15,000 worth of salable skins, rough skeletons and skulls of mammals, many of which were very large; birds, reptiles, and fishes, especially the large and important species; also fishes and fish skins in alcohol and brine; crustaceans, shells, star-fishes, corals, and a few insects. In not a single case did I ever fail to collect a desired specimen through lack of implements and preservatives with which to care for it, and only three or four specimens spoiled on my hands in course of preservation. One of these was an orang skin, the last one I took, which spoiled because I had to pack it up and travel with it without giving it even one day's drying; and the others were skins which spoiled while I was on my back with jungle fever.

The outfit listed above is of such a nature that for a trip across Africa, South America, or even a much shorter distance on foot or horseback, away from rivers and wagon-roads, it would be difficult to take the whole of it. But then, on some expeditions, for example, such as are made through Darkest Africa, the travellers are generally glad to get through with their lives, to say nothing of more cumbersome luggage, and very little collecting is done. In nine cases out of ten, however, it is advisable to take along a good outfit, even though there be three or four boxes of it, for, except in such journeys as those mentioned above, there will always be a way to get it along. It will cost a few dollars for freight, and some trouble in management; but if you are a good collector, and mean business, you will not mind that in the least. Where there's a will there's locomotion; and to collect well, or even at all, one must have something to collect with. It is an expensive and exceedingly laborious business at best, so don't go expecting to have your "baggage checked through to destination, free of charge."

But there are a great many of my readers who, while they may never want to go off into a howling wilderness, might greatly enjoy collecting on such trips as they do take. Then, again, there are sportsmen and travellers who will willingly carry into good game districts a book of instructions, and enough tools to enable them successfully to remove and preserve the skins of valuable trophies of the chase, and other specimens which should be kept on account of their scientific value or their beauty. To meet the requirements of both the amateur and the sportsman I recommend:

The Traveller's Handy Outfit,

For a Collector of Mammals, Heads, Trophies, etc., and also Birds.

Firearms, as you please.

A tool-box of 1/4 inch ash, size 7 × 13 × 3 inches, containing the following:

With the addition of 10 large skinning knives, this was the identical outfit I took with me on two collecting trips to Montana, during which we skinned and skeletonized 24 buffaloes, about 20 antelope, 10 deer, 9 coyotes, and a goodly number of birds and small mammals.

The points in favor of this outfit are its cheapness, compactness, portability, and great general utility. It can be carried in a knapsack behind a saddle on an overland journey, and to an explorer it is useful in a hundred ways besides those for which it is specially intended.

Firearms.—The gun question is a good deal like the wife question—every man prefers to choose for himself, and advice is chiefly superfluous. Nevertheless, to those who have as yet no preferences, I will briefly state mine, and the reasons for them.

If I could have but one weapon, I should choose the Maynard rifle, calibre 40, with extra long cartridge, and a No. 12 shot-barrel fitting to the same stock, and interchangeable in less than fifteen seconds of time. The rifle is light and handy; it hits hard, and is as true as steel ever gets to be. It will hit every time precisely where you hold it. Its construction is so simple it seldom breaks or gets out of order, the brass shells never wear out, and when loaded are about as impervious to water as marine torpedoes. Should you go under water—rifle, cartridges, and all—you have only to "bob up serenely," and go on firing as if nothing had happened.

By the addition of a shot-barrel, at a very slight expense, you have, in reality, two good breech-loading weapons that will serve you well for general purposes.

For ordinary large game I also prefer the Maynard rifle, but of a heavier calibre than the above. Calibre 45 is the best size, taking the U.M.C. Co.'s Bullard cartridges loaded with 85 grains of powder and 295 grains of lead. These with the Maynard make a beautiful combination. It carries point-blank up to 170 yards, if not even 200; the ball has great accuracy and penetration, with a very low trajectory, and very little recoil. A heavier bullet means a hearty kick and loss of accuracy, and one of 500 grains of lead means occasional blood at your end of the gun, and a black and blue shoulder.

For such great beasts as the elephant, rhinoceros, and hippopotamus, the choice must lie between a double 8-bore rifle, and the No. 8 smooth-bore. For my part, I would rather hunt my elephants with such a gun as I used on them in India, a No. 8 smooth-bore, double-barrelled, which, though weighing less than 10 pounds, never kicked seriously, even with enough powder (6 drachms) to send a zinc bullet through an elephant's skull and brain, and out on the other side. With such a weapon there will be no need to run after an animal, nor run away from it either, after you get one fair shot at it.[1]

For hunting large birds and small mammals a No. 10 shot-gun is the best; but if you are specially interested in birds and care little for mammals, a No. 12 breech-loader with top-snap action will be preferable. For my purposes, however, my No. 10 double Werner and No. 16 Maynard always worked beautifully together, and I think these two sizes afford the best combination a collector can find. Being very strongly built, I often loaded my No. 10 with a single ball, and bagged many a fine Indian bison in that way.

I always used heavy brass shells with all my shot-guns, for the following reason: I could not spare room to carry paper shells, the rains I encountered would have spoiled too many of them, and away from home they were too expensive a luxury for me to afford. The brass shells are expensive to start with, but they last forever, or until they are lost.

Hints on Hunting.—The duty of a naturalist to his specimen begins when he levels his gun at it in the field.

Do not shoot a specimen to pieces, or mutilate it beyond recognition by its own mother.

Study the moral principles of your guns, find out exactly what they will do with what you put into them, and then don't shoot your specimens too much. What is a tiger worth with the top of his head blown off, or a deer with a great hole torn in his side by an explosive bullet?

Three vital principles to be observed in hunting specimens are the following: See everything ahead, and allow nothing to see you. Shoot to kill, but shoot so as to get your specimen with the least possible mutilation. A squirrel shot with a rifle is usually unfit for a specimen, and a bird with its legs shot to pieces, mandibles shot off, and half its tail feathers torn to pieces is about the same as no bird at all, unless it happens to be a rare one. In using a rifle, get as close to your game as you can (unless it be a tiger or bear!), so as to be sure of getting it. With the shot-gun, get as far away as you dare, so as to get no more shot into your bird than is necessary to kill it.

It is a disgrace for a collector to shoot a bird to pieces and be obliged to throw it away.

I append a showing of what I use in collecting, according to circumstances. It is hardly likely that any two collectors in the world agree on these points, therefore I do not expect that these tables will suit the old hands. I put them forth as mere suggestions to beginners.

Recommendations in Regard to Hunting with the Rifle.

Recommendations in Regard to Hunting with the Shot-gun.

Of course it would be easy to recommend a large assortment of different weapons for different purposes, but when it comes to providing an outfit of firearms, I must say I never cared to take care of more than three or four weapons, and I doubt if the average amateur will feel disposed to maintain a small arsenal. In preparing the above tables I have limited the weapons to those I have actually used. For my use, the following constitutes a model collector's outfit of firearms for all purposes in all countries. It is cheap, but first class, not cumbersome, easily cared for in all climates, and equal to every occasion that can arise:

1 No. 8 double breech-loading smooth-bore, and

1 Auxiliary barrel, No. 22, for very small birds (price, $12).

1 Calibre 45-85 Maynard rifle, 1 calibre 40-60 rifle-barrel, and 1 No. 16 shot-barrel, all to fit interchangeably on the same stock. A smaller rifle-barrel might also be added, but it is not really necessary.

1 Calibre 45-75 7-shot Winchester.

1 No. 12 breech-loading shot-gun.

The Winchester is useful for rapid firing at short range, but the Maynard is the weapon to depend upon for perfect accuracy at all ranges.

Knives.—For general use the best knife for the collector or taxidermist is a steel-handled cartilage-knife, as shown in Fig. 1, B. It costs seventy-five cents. There are two kinds of cartilage-knives, but the one shown has the best-shaped blade.

[a]Fig. 1.]—The Best Knives for a Collector or Taxidermist (about two-thirds actual size). A, Russell's "killing-knife;" B, Cartilage-knife.

For heavier work the best knife I have ever used or seen is the so-called "killing-knife," No. 01512, as shown in Fig. 1, A, made by John Russell, Green River Works, Turner's Falls, Mass., the retail price of which is only seventy-five cents. Had I designed it myself, especially for collectors' use, I could not have done better. The shape of the blade, the thickness of it, and the shape of the handle are all perfect. If you cannot procure one of these knives, then buy a good butcher-knife, and grind the blade down to this shape. A knife with a straight edge is not fit to use, for many reasons.

Always keep a good coarse (water) whetstone for large knives, and a Wichita oil-stone and oil for your finer knives, and the final touches to your large ones.

Seasons for Collecting.—Mammals.—In the temperate zone never take fur-bearing or game animals before September 1st, or later than February 1st, if possible to avoid it. On most of these mammals the pelage is the finest during November and December. It is then at its maximum length, very clean and well dressed, and also at its brightest color. The ruminants begin to shed in May (the American bison as early as March), and by July the new hair upon them is only about half an inch long, but very fine and sleek. At that time it does not have its natural color. In our country, September, October, and November are the months par excellence for the taking of mammals, especially the large species, for after December 1st the storms and snows of winter render their haunts untenable for the hunter, unless he builds a cabin in the woods and makes a winter of it. The haunts of the mountain sheep and goat must be abandoned by December 1st, at the latest, on account of the snow. The best time to take families of young mammals is from May to August. If taken earlier they are too young, and later they have passed their most interesting age. The smaller the species are, the quicker the young mature, and in collecting all such, the naturalist must be on the keen lookout to take them at the precise time they reach the most interesting size and age.

Birds.—In the temperate zone the best months for bird collecting are March, April, May, June, September, October, and November; but since the study of migration depends upon collections and observations made all the year round, there is really no time to begin collecting, and no time to cease. At the same time the amateur will soon discover that, aside from the birds that are found only in their particular season, the greatest number of species to be obtained in the Northern United States come in the months mentioned; and, of course, in the cold half of the year they are most plentiful in the South, whither they go to escape the cold weather. In the northern regions bird-collecting naturally begins with the spring migration from the South, and is most active from that time up to the end of June. During July and August the old birds are moulting, and the young ones have immature plumage and stub tails.

A rule which can be safely applied, to all tropical climates is that the dry season is best for either collecting, sport, or travel. Never collect in the rainy season if you can help it. Animal life is doubly hard to find, specimens are desperately difficult to preserve, and field work is very trying on the patience and the constitution.

In the Arctic regions, hunting and collecting must be done in midsummer, or not at all. While it is true that in the torrid and temperate zones there is a certain amount of work to be done all the year round, there is always a particular season which may be regarded as the harvest-time.

Collecting by Amateurs.—There is one kind of collecting which should be discouraged in every possible way, and that is the postage-stamp style of collecting by boys who have no real love for natural history. Boys in their teens often make collections of bird-skins, eggs, and nests in precisely the same spirit that prompts them to gather coins, postage stamps, and autographs—"to see who can get the most kinds." This vicious propensity is apt to involve a very good boy in a useless and inexcusable warfare against the feathered tribes. Many a time I have been saddened by the sight of drawer upon drawer, full to overflowing, of poorly made skins of our most beautiful songbirds,—hundreds of them in a single collection, perhaps not worth ten cents apiece in any market,—each skin merely recording the important fact that it was shot on a certain day in a certain place. There is a way to prove whether a juvenile collector has really a love for the study of birds. Let the one who furnishes the sinews of war—parent, guardian, or elder brother—demand that he shall mount every good specimen he kills, and be able to tell all about its habits, food, economic value, etc. This will in any event result in great good. If the collector is not really absorbed in the study of bird-life, the labor such a course involves will soon deter him from indiscriminate slaughter; and even if he is destined to become a distinguished member of the A.O.U., it will be all the better for him to be taught to place a high value on every bird, living or dead.

Shooting Birds as a Pastime.—I cannot, without being profane, find language strong enough to adequately express my abhorrence of the damnable practice some parents have of providing thoughtless boys with shot-guns and ammunition for the slaughter of birds and small mammals, just for the fun (!) of the thing, or to become proficient in the use of the gun. For the killing of birds for food, or to mount for the cabinet, or to study intelligently, there is some excuse; but for the slaughter of birds as a boyish pastime there is no excuse whatever, and either boys or parents who have such a disregard for life as to make it possible should be fined as heavily as can be done under the law. Firearms and their users are multiplying at such a frightful rate that it seems highly probable the time will come when there will be no more wild birds or quadrupeds left upon the face of the earth.

It is a good thing for a boy to be taught to shoot, and skill in the use of a rifle may fairly be regarded as an accomplishment; but the taking of life is not in the least necessary to its acquirement. If a boy wants to shoot for the sake of becoming an expert with the gun, give him a rifle and a target, or a shot-gun and clay pigeons, that he may start in the right direction. Do this, and the chances are ten to one that he gets ten times the sport and twenty times the benefit out of rivalry at the target that he would out of roaming over the country and killing every bird he can discover. Even in the immediate vicinity of Washington a song-bird can hardly raise a note without attracting a boy with a gun.

Poisoning and Trapping Mammals.—Inasmuch as there are in print a number of good books that treat this subject exclusively, I may be spared the labor of taking it up here. The reader must be assured, however, that traps and strychnine are very valuable allies in collecting, and he who ignores them will lose much. Above all things, carry with you plenty of strychnine, use it industriously, and it will bring you many a fine carnivore you would not get otherwise. Poison a skinned carcass by cutting gashes an inch deep in the rump and other fleshy portions, and putting strychnine in them. Also cut up chunks of meat in little cubes, put poison in the centre of each, and scatter them around for the benefit of the wily wolf and fox, the fat and festive badger, the wary golden eagle and raven, and other meat-eaters in general. On our hunt for buffaloes in Montana, Mr. W. Harvey Brown was our Borgia, and his industry and strychnine laid low some of the finest small specimens we obtained, including specimens of all the species mentioned above. After putting out poison, search the vicinity thoroughly for two or three days, and the chances are your efforts will not be in vain.

Dr. C. Hart Merriam and his collectors have reduced the trapping of the very small mammalia to an exact science, the like of which I venture to say has never been seen before. They use three kinds of traps—the Lamb steel-trap, No. 0; the Cyclone, and the Climax. These are all small, all may be used with bait, or quickly modified to serve as runway traps, for arvicolas and the like. Boiled oatmeal mixed with corn meal is the standard bait used for small rodents. For shrews, small carnivora, and omnivorous rodents, meat baits are used, such as birds' heads, intestines, pieces of skin, and meat—in fact anything fleshy.

[CHAPTER III.]

HOW TO SELECT AND STUDY FRESH SPECIMENS.

Selection of Specimens.—This is the golden rule in collecting: Preserve the first specimen you collect of every species you encounter, lest you never get another. When you have obtained too many of a kind, it is an easy matter to throw some away. At all hazards, try to obtain one really fine adult male and female of each species, to serve as standards of comparison in your subsequent studies. Remember that immature, undersized specimens are not typical representatives of a species, nor do they add glory to a collection. At the same time, quite young specimens, say one-fifth to one-tenth adult size, are always very interesting, and should be collected and preserved whenever possible. Collect your mammals and birds during the season when their pelage and plumage are at their finest. Especially should every specimen that you propose to mount be strictly first-class. Life is short and species many, and when you do go through with the task of mounting a specimen, it should be so fine in every way that you will never need to replace it for the reason that it is too poor to keep. Of rare species, the rule is to preserve every specimen taken, and, I may add, make as many different kinds of preparations of a rare species as you know how to prepare. For example, of the guacharo bird, or cave-bird of Trinidad (Steatornis caripensis), my friend Jackson and I prepared skins, skeletons, and alcoholic specimens, and took a full assortment of nests and eggs.

Measurements.—It is of great importance to acquire a fixed habit of carefully measuring every specimen you prepare, unless you are already in possession of an abundance of measured specimens of the same kind. After getting into the habit of measuring, it takes only a very few minutes to do the work, and the value of the information thus obtained is sure to be equal to ten times its cost.

Record the measurements on the label bearing the name of the object, and by all means adopt for each class of objects a certain system of measurements, which should always be followed. Under their respective headings, in the following chapters on collecting, I will give directions for measuring small mammals, large mammals, and birds, according to the system I think most useful.

Casts.—The great value of casts as working models and records cannot be overestimated nor ignored without loss of accuracy. They are especially valuable in preserving records of the forms of mammals; and the methods of making them—all very simple and easy—will be found fully described and illustrated in the chapters devoted to "Making Casts" (Part III.).

Photographs.—To the taxidermist and collector, photographs of dead animals are of very little value unless it be a large picture of the head of a large specimen, such as a moose. Photographs of live animals taken "broadside on," as the sailors say, are extremely valuable aids in mounting; but these you get only in the zoological gardens. I never took a camera into the field with me, and have always been glad of it, for it would not have repaid the trouble it would have involved. No man who has his hands full of shooting, preserving, and packing specimens can afford to waste time on a camera with which to take dead animals, because it is apt to fail to emphasize the very points you most wish to have recorded. I have had enough dead animals photographed to feel sure on this point.

On the other hand, the taxidermist who permits himself to be wholly unable to make simple sketches, with a fair degree of accuracy, from animals in the flesh, is seriously handicapped. It is only the heaven-born genius—as yet unborn, I believe—who can study animals and remember everything he sees. Written descriptions help out a great deal, especially when particular emphasis is called for, and in the absence of sketches, photographs are the next best thing. It is an excellent thing to be able to photograph animals, both living and dead; but the trouble is, one cannot always get the game and the camera together. A note-book and a pencil one can always carry, and even when you have the camera, the former often proves the better ally of the two.

Outlines.—For years it has been my constant practice to make outlines of dead animals, on large sheets of paper, before skinning them. My plan is to lay the specimen on its side on a sheet of heavy manila paper, place the legs and feet in an easy walking attitude, pin or nail them fast in place, then mark entirely around the animal with a long lead pencil. To get an exact diagram of a rather large mammal, I invented a wooden square, carrying a pencil point at its outer angle, with which it was easy to get the exact outline of a large animal, or large skull. In mounting a specimen, such an outline is of great value as a check on errors in proportion that might easily be made in putting it together.

Field Notes.—There are hundreds of specimens on which you will not need to take notes, unless you have the time to study their habits, find out what they eat, how they live, etc. But of rare and interesting objects you will want to record all the information you can gather regarding their life history. To determine what they feed upon, examine the contents of their stomachs. If there is no time to do that in the field, then preserve the stomachs in alcohol, carefully labelled, and examine the contents at your leisure. Learn how to observe, and then put down in black and white, between substantial leather covers, all that you do observe, and all that is told to you by the natives about species with which they are familiar. Do not forget to ascertain and record the native names of your specimens, for after you get home you will be certain to wish to know them. One thing is certain; when you come to write about your collection, you will wish you had taken more notes in the field.

While a specimen is fresh, take careful notes as to the color of all the soft parts that will lose their color when the skin is dry. Learn to describe colors accurately, and, if possible (though this seems like asking a great deal!), try to describe colors so that afterward, when your notes get cold, you yourself will know what they mean!

PLATE II.—[a]Two Pages from an old Field Note-book.—A Taxidermist's Notes.]

In describing the colors of soft parts, I would advise you to purchase the following Windsor & Newton tube colors (oil) and use them as standards for reference: Ivory black, Vandyke brown, burnt umber, burnt sienna, raw sienna, Naples yellow, Indian yellow, chrome yellow, Indian red, vermilion, purple lake, cobalt blue, and indigo.

Labelling.—For scientific purposes, a specimen without a label is not quite so good as no specimen. It takes up room, and is useless. The most important record to make on a label is the name of the locality in which it was taken. Next in importance is the date of its capture. You may leave off everything else if you really must, for as to its name the specimen can speak for itself. But it is by all means desirable that the label should give the name, locality, date, sex, and some measurements. I need not mention "name of the collector," for the collector can always be trusted to look out for that without advice from anybody, even under the most discouraging circumstances.

[CHAPTER IV.]

TREATMENT OF THE SKINS OF SMALL MAMMALS.

Many hundred beautiful and curious quadrupeds are shot every year and allowed to perish utterly for lack of the little knowledge and skill which would enable the hunter to remove and preserve their skins. The operation is simple and easy, the requirement in tools and materials quite insignificant, and the operator has only to exercise a little patient industry to achieve good results. There are few circumstances under which a determined individual finds himself thwarted in his desire to remove and preserve the skin of a dead animal. In nineteen cases out of twenty the result hinges on his own disposition. If he is lazy, a thousand things can hinder his purpose; if he is determined, nothing can. A sharp pocket-knife, a little powdered alum and arsenic in equal parts, or failing that, common salt alone, will do the business in lieu of a better outfit, for any small mammal that ever lived.

I begin with small mammals, because it is squirrels, rabbits, cats, woodchucks, weasels, opossums, raccoons, and foxes that the beginner will fall in with long before he is called upon to wrestle with such subjects as deer, bear, elk, or buffalo. These general directions apply to the skinning of all terrestrial quadrupeds up to the size of a setter dog, and the preservation of their skins in a mountable condition.

Measurements.—The following are the most valuable measurements to take of a small mammal.

1. Length, from end of nose to root of tail. This is to be taken with the head stretched out straight as far as it will go. Measure from the tip end of the nose to the point where the tail joins the body. In my judgment it is always best in determining this latter point to take the angle made by the tail (underneath) and the rump when the tail hangs or is bent down at an angle of forty-five degrees to the spinal column. This point is always fixed and constant, and can be quickly and accurately determined by bending the tail down and sticking a pin or awl at the angle. To measure an animal like a monkey on the top of the tail is to attempt the location of a point which can rarely be determined twice alike. For this reason I have always taken this measurement in both large and small mammals underneath the tail.

2. Length of tail, from root to end of vertebræ.

3. Length of hind foot. Bend the heel at a right angle, and measure from the outer extremity of the angle to the tip end of the longest toe, including the nail.

4. Height at shoulders, if the animal be not too small. To take this, lay the animal on its right side, then, as nearly as you can, place the right leg and foot in the position they would assume if the animal were standing erect (the sole of the foot must be parallel to the axis of the body), and measure in a straight line from the bottom of the heel to the top of the shoulders. Record, also,

5. The color of the eyes, and the other soft parts.

6. Weight, in certain cases.

Do not forget what has been said in Chapter III. about outlines and sketches. On one corner of the outline-sheet we record the name of the specimen, locality, date, sex, measurements, color of eyes, lips, feet, etc. It takes but a few moments' time, and the result is a complete and accurate record of what the animal was in the flesh. These sheets are numbered and filed away, the skin is numbered and put in the bath, and even though it be not until five years later that we are ready to mount it, we can tell as accurately what the animal was like as if it had been received only the previous day. If the specimen is a baboon, for example, with several colors on its face, it was for years my practice to make a rough sketch of the face and put upon it the various colors that belong there, in oil-colors, usually, though sometimes with water-colors. It was also my custom to spend half an hour or so in taking a mould, and making a quick cast in plaster Paris of the face of every monkey or baboon which came to me, unless I already had one which would answer as a model to copy in finishing the face.

Skinning Small Quadrupeds.—Lay the animal flat upon its back, head to your right. Hold your knife with the edge up, and push the point through the skin of the throat, precisely in the middle of the neck. Now push the point of the knife forward under the skin, between it and the flesh, and divide the skin in a straight, clean cut along the middle of the neck, breast, and body, quite to the base of the tail. If the animal has a large, fleshy tail, like a dog or raccoon, it must be slit open along the under side (without cutting the hair) for its entire length, except an inch or two at the base. If the tail is small, slender, or bony, like that of a squirrel or a rat, it can usually be slipped out of the skin by pulling the bony part between two sticks held close together against the skin of the tail.

The sole of each foot must be slit open, lengthwise, from the base of the middle toe straight back to the heel, and in case the foot is large and fleshy, like that of a dog, the cut must be continued on up the leg, perhaps one-third of the way to the knee, to enable the skin of the leg to be turned wrong side out over the foot.

Having made all the opening cuts, begin at the abdomen, catch one edge of the skin between thumb and finger, and with the knife cut it neatly and cleanly from the body, leaving as little flesh as possible adhering to the skin. In using the knife do not go at it in a daintily finical way, as if you were picking birdshot out of the leg of a dear friend; for, if you do, it will take you forever to skin your first specimen, and there will be no time left for another. Learn to work briskly but carefully, and by and by you will be able to take off a skin with a degree of neatness and rapidity that will astonish the natives. It is not a dissecting touch that is called for in taking off a skin, but a firm, sweeping, shaving stroke instead, applied to the inside of the skin, and not to the carcass. This applies to all skinning operations on all vertebrates except birds.

After starting at the abdomen, we come very soon to where the foreleg joins the body at the shoulder, and the hind leg at the hip. Disjoint each there, and cut through the muscles until each leg is severed from the body. Skin each leg by turning the skin wrong side out over the foot quite down to the toes. That done, cut the flesh away from the bones of the leg and foot, neatly and thoroughly.

Never leave the foot of an animal unskinned, unless it happens to be a very small one, like a chipmunk, or smaller, and the proper way is to skin the flesh out, even then.

[a]Fig. 2.]—A Squirrel partly Skinned, showing Process.

Be careful to leave all the bones of each leg attached to each other by their ligaments at the joints (see left hind leg in Fig. 2), and to the skin itself at the toes. Never throw away the leg bones, unless the skin you are preserving is to be kept as a pelt or a rug.

Detach the skin from the back, shoulders, and neck, and when you come to the ears, cut them off close down to the head. Turn the skin wrong side out over the head, until you come to the eyes. Now be careful or you will do mischief. Work slowly with the knife, keeping close to the edge of the bony orbit, until you see, through a thin membrane under your knife edge, the dark portion of the eyeball—iris and pupil. You may now cut fearlessly through this membrane and expose the eye. If your work has been properly done, you have not cut the eyelids anywhere. If you are ever in doubt when operating on the eye, thrust the tip of one finger fairly into the eye and against the ball, from without, and cut against it. This is always an excellent plan in skinning large mammals.

Skin down to the end of the nose, cut through the cartilage close to the bone, and cut on down to where the upper lip joins the gum. Cut both lips away from the skull, close to the bone, all the way around the mouth. The lips are thick and fleshy, and must be split open from the inside and flattened out so that the flesh in them can be pared off. Do not mutilate the lips by cutting them away at the edge of the hair, but leave the inside skin, so that in mounting you can fold it in (with a little clay replacing the flesh) and thus make a mouth anatomically correct. Do not shave off the roots of the whiskers, or they will fall out. Gash the flesh between them (they are set in rows), but leave the follicles themselves untouched. Pare away the membrane which adheres to the inside of the eyelids, and turn the ear wrong side out at the base, in order to cut away the flesh around it. If the ears have hair upon them, they must be skinned up from the inside and turned wrong side out quite to the tip, in order to separate the outside skin, which holds the hair, from the cartilage which supports the ear.

[a]Fig. 3.]—Skinning a squirrel's head.

For a full description of ear skinning, see another chapter.

The great principle which is the foundation of all valuable field work on mammal skins is this: A skin must be so taken off, cleaned of flesh, and preserved that the preservative powder or fluid can act directly upon the roots of the hair from the inner side of the skin, and over every portion of its surface. Neither alum, nor salt, nor alcohol (unless it be of great strength) can strike through a thick layer of flesh and penetrate through the skin to the epidermis quickly enough to save it from decomposition. The epidermis of most animals is of such a close and oily nature that preservatives cannot strike through it from without, and therefore when a skin is removed it must be cleaned of flesh and fat, so that the preservative liquid or dry powder can come immediately in contact with the cutis.

The skin is now off. If the lips have been opened out, the ears skinned to the tip (if they be haired), and the feet well skinned down, we are ready to go on. But first we must clean the skull. Cut the flesh all off, or the most of it at least, for it is not possible to get it all away at the base; cut out the eyes and tongue, and with your brain-hook, or a piece of wire hammered flat at the end and bent up at a right angle, patiently draw out the brain through the occipital opening at the base of the skull. By this time, perhaps, the skin will be bloody in places, or possibly it was dirty to start with. Now is the time to wash it thoroughly in clear water. Remember that a skin which has been dried with blood upon it is damaged forever. It stains the hair, and very often forms a hard, gummy mass which nothing will dissolve.

Preservation of the Skin.—The next step depends upon what you propose to do with the skin, or it may depend upon the conditions under which you are collecting. 1. If you are in your laboratory preparing skins to mount, preserve them all (except quite young specimens and certain others) in a soft, or wet state, in a salt-and-alum bath. 2. If you are in the field (especially the tropics), making a large collection of mammal skins for mounting, by all means do the same if possible. 3. If the skins are for purposes of study as skins, during which frequent handling and examination is absolutely necessary, make them up as dry skins. 4. If you lack facilities for preserving them wet, then make dry skins of them. 5. If the necessities of travel and transportation make it necessary to reduce the weight to the lowest possible limit, and to divide it up for carriage overland, make up all skins dry, both little and big. 6. If you have only one or two skins to preserve, it will be less trouble to you to make them up dry at once.

Here are the two methods:

A. The Salt-and-Alum Bath.—This is the finest solution ever discovered for the preservation of the skins of quadrupeds that are destined to be mounted. It is inexpensive, simple, and easy to make; its action is perfect; its strength can be regulated to suit any kind of a skin; it never gets stale; and if properly handled will preserve a skin for a hundred years in the same pliable and elastic condition as when it leaves the animal's back. In only two or three instances have I ever known it to change the color of the hair in the least. Every taxidermist knows that it is far easier to mount a fresh specimen in fine style than an old, dry skin which has lost all its elasticity. The work on a soft skin (i.e., one which has never been dried) can be done more easily, more quickly, and vastly better. With a dry skin you can make only what it will let you; but with a wet skin you can make just as fine a mount as your skill is capable of producing. And with the latter it makes no difference whether the skin came off the animal last week or ten years ago, except in the case of very young animals. Of these the bath softens the leg bones. For years it has been my custom to preserve all skins that I expect to mount (except the young of the smaller species) in this salt-and-alum bath, and it is almost superfluous to add that I strongly advise all others to do the same. In many ways it is a great economy to do so.

Directions for Making It.—For every gallon of water put in three-quarters of a pound of alum (one pint) and a pound and three-quarters of salt (about one quart), and heat the liquid to the boiling-point, stirring occasionally, so that the salt and alum will dissolve. Then pour it into a wooden, earthen, or glass vessel, or a tank lined with lead (for zinc or galvanized iron will not answer), and when it is cool, or even milk warm, it is ready for use. Test it with your salometer (which you can procure for fifty cents of Bahmann & Hoehn, 21 Park Place, New York), and see that it stands at 15°. This is the normal strength. If stronger than that, e.g., 16° or 17°, the skin will be hardened too much. It can go as low as 13° with safety, but that is the limit. At 12° skins are liable to lose their hair.

Directions for Use.—If the hair is tight on the skin everywhere, simply immerse it in the bath, leg bones and all, giving it plenty of room at first. Move it up and down, and leave it as much spread out and free from folds as possible. Remember that the fluid must act upon the inside of the skin, for the epidermis is often almost impervious to it. If you allow the skin to lie upon itself in thick folds, stuck together on the inside, those spots are liable to lose their hair in a most unaccountable and aggravating way. If the skin is small and thin, the bath soon does its work; but if it is a large skin, move it up and down, and all about, every day for the first two or three days. By the end of that time its preservation will be complete.

Half-spoiled Specimens.—Very often a subject will be brought to you in the flesh, several days old, green on the abdomen, and the hair starting to slip off between the hind legs. If the hair pulls out readily on various parts of the body and limbs, it is a gone case; but if it starts only a little on the lower part of the abdomen, and is firm everywhere else, put some bath, with a little extra alum in it, on the fire to get warm, snatch that skin off in a hurry, and without stopping for any fancy touches whisk it into the warm bath. The bath should not be so hot that you cannot bear your hand in it. It will act like magic. Then you can gradually finish your work on the skin, so as to keep it safe from harm. Very often quick work, and a warm bath with plenty of alum in it, will save a skin in fine, mountable shape, when nothing else will. The alum acts as a powerful astringent, drawing together the fibres of the epidermis around the root of each individual hair, and likewise binding together the cutis and epidermis.

Cleanliness.—You will observe that as fresh skins are put into a bath it gradually loses its strength, and it is also liable to become, in time, so dirty with blood and grease that it must be thrown away. Keep skins that are greasy (bear, seal, etc.) carefully by themselves, and never put the skin of a deer, cat, or any animal with a fine coat in a greasy or dirty bath. If a bath is clean, but of too low strength, make some extra strong bath, say 20°, and add to it and bring it up to 15°. Keep all your bath receptacles tightly closed, or the liquid will evaporate very rapidly.

Testing the Bath.—If you have no salometer, and are not overparticular, you can test your bath by tasting it; but unless the bath is new and untouched, I prefer the little salometer. By tasting the bath when first made in the proportions given above, and remembering the degree of its astringency upon the tongue, you can make that a standard for comparison—if it suits your taste!

Skulls and Leg Bones.—The leg bones of all small and medium sized mammals, even up to the deer, can just as well go into the bath, after they have been thoroughly cleaned of all flesh and tendons. The skulls, however, had better not go into the solution. Clean them carefully, anoint them all over with thin arsenical soap, put a tag on each to show to what skin it belongs, and let it dry. Don't lay it aside without poisoning, or it will be swarming with dermestes before you know it.

As before stated, a skin must have room while it is curing, but when that has been thoroughly accomplished, which with the largest skins never takes more than four or five days, they can be packed together like sardines so long as the bath is strong enough.

B. Making Dry Skins.—Poisoning and Preserving.—When the skin has been removed and cleaned, the next step is to sew up from the inside any holes that may have been made in the skin by bullets or knives. Then make up a mixture of two-thirds powdered alum and one-third arsenic, and rub as much of it upon the inside of the skin as will stick there. The alum is to preserve the skin, the arsenic to poison it against the attacks of insects. Apply this mixture thoroughly, especially in the feet, ears, head, and tail, for these are the points the dermestes attack first.

Another Method, and one which I almost invariably follow when I am compelled to make dry skins, is to anoint the skin with strong arsenical soap,[3]—the finest poison for skins yet discovered,—then rub on the skin, as soon as the soap has been fully absorbed, a mixture of fine salt and powdered alum, in equal proportions. Though the arsenical soap may be thought "mussy" at first, it should not be used thin and watery, but as a thin paste, like thick cream. The advantages of this method are—(1), that the skin is more thoroughly poisoned, especially externally, on the hairless portions; (2), the skin dries without

becoming so hard and brittle and inelastic; and (3), it can be softened and mounted much more easily and successfully than skins prepared by the first method. For skins which are to be mounted, the advantages of this method are very obvious.

The Simplest Method.—If you have neither arsenic nor arsenical soap, and yet wish to save a skin so it can be sent to a taxidermist in good condition, prepare it with fine salt alone. Use the salt liberally, and if the weather is warm, leave the skin turned wrong side out and roll it up in a quantity of it. If you use it sparingly, the skin will absorb it all in a day or two, literally "cry for more," and failing to get it will sweat and spoil. It is simply a question of enough salt.

Even when collecting in the field, I nearly always cure small skins with salt only, so that they will stay quite soft and fresh until they get to the laboratory, and then go into the bath without ever having been dried.

Rats.—Skins preserved with salt only must be carefully guarded from the attacks of mice, rats, cats, dogs, and other vermin that go about seeking what they may devour.

Making up a Dry Skin.—The Legs.—Having applied the preservatives, if you propose to make up your specimen as a dry skin, wrap a little tow, oakum, cotton, or cotton cloth around the bones of each leg, to partly replace the flesh, and keep the skin away from the bone, so that both can dry quickly. If you have no other material, paper will do. In the East Indies, where transportation was difficult, I used to carry with me bundles of coarse brown paper such as the grocers use, and used it for wrapping the leg bones of monkeys, foxes, and the like. But for the small rodents, one must have either tow, oakum, cotton, or cloth, the preference being in the order named. On no account should the skin be left to dry down upon the bone. The proper filling out of the legs is desirable in order that they may have a neat, shapely, and natural appearance, so that the hair will lie naturally, and can be studied to advantage. If this part of the process is neglected, the skin of the leg shrivels up, dries down upon the bone, and looks like a mummy. In the tropics the moisture in a leg bone is sufficient to cause the decay of the skin which surrounds it unless they are separated by some kind of wrapping. To avoid this, some tropical, collectors allow their skins to dry wrong side out, a most lazy and vicious habit, the results of which are in most cases totally worthless.

[a]Fig. 4.]—A Model Mammal Skin.

Having wrapped the leg bones enough fairly to replace the flesh, turn back the skin of the leg until it comes right side out again, adjust the skin neatly, and make the member as shapely and natural as you please.

The Skull.—There are two ways of disposing of the skull. The universal custom has been to replace it in the head, with a little filling in the cheeks and orbits, the lips neatly adjusted on the teeth, and the eyelids also in their place, half open. This makes the best looking skin, and unless you wish to study the skull, is the best method to follow. For skins that are specially designed for study, the plan lately adopted by the curator of mammals of the National Museum is an excellent one. It is to remove the skull entirely from the head, and in case of all mammals smaller than a coyote, put it in the centre of the body, with the filling, in the line of the seam along the belly, so that by cutting a few stitches in the dry specimen it may be readily taken out at any time. The advantages of this arrangement are obvious.

The Tail.—The tail must be disposed of according to its character. If it is long and slender, take a small wire, wrap it with tow or cotton cloth, so that the skin cannot touch the iron at any point, insert it in the tail and sew it up with a few long stitches. If you have not the means wherewith to do this, whittle a slender stick to a point, and insert it in the tail from within two inches of the body out to the tip. If the tail is large, and has been split open for its entire length, it can be left flat.

Filling.—Begin at the head and fill out the head, neck, and body to about the natural size of the animal when alive, but no larger. Better leave it too small than fill it too full, and stretch the skin out of proportion. With needle and thread sew up the skin to give it a neat appearance, beginning at the throat. Comb and brush the hair so that it will lie naturally, and show its texture and colors to the best advantage. Take a stitch also in the centre of the lips to hold them together.

[a]Fig. 5.]—Another Form of Mammal Skin.

Shaping.—The ends to be sought in laying out a skin to dry are, to have it take up a limited amount of space in a drawer, to have all breakable points protected, and at the same time to have all parts of the specimen accessible for examination. The shape of a dry skin, therefore, must depend upon its character. The handsomest collection of small mammal skins that I have ever seen is that of Dr. C. Hart Merriam, Chief of the Bureau of Economic Ornithology and Mammalogy, Department of Agriculture. Although it is purely a private collection, it contains at this date 5,750 skins. Dr. Merriam's method of shaping a skin is certainly, so far as looks are concerned, the best yet devised. Fig. 4, on the opposite page, shows it perfectly. The tail is wired, and extends straight out behind, lying between the hind legs, which also extend directly backward. The forelegs are drawn forward just far enough apart to allow the head to lie between them. The skin is well shaped, and lies flat upon the belly, with all the members resting down upon the bottom of the drawer.

With specimens having long tails this arrangement is open to one objection. In the rough-and-tumble experiences that collections made in the field almost inevitably go through before they reach safe anchorage in the museum, a long tail sticking straight out for its full length is very liable to suffer damage in various ways, especially at the tip. For this reason I always bend the tail down and lay it along on the belly, with a stitch or two to hold it there, safe from harm (Fig. 5). And with such animals as monkeys, sloths, cats, etc., having long and slender forelegs, I always place those members close alongside the body, instead of extending them their full length toward the front.

Steel Combs.—For dressing the hair of an animal it pays to have a furrier's fine steel comb, and a coarser comb of German silver, such as can be obtained at seventy-five and fifty cents each, respectively, of J. Ruszits, No. 73 Mercer Street, New York. The same furrier also furnishes a very large steel robe-comb (like an infant garden rake), which is very useful on large mammals having long, matted hair, such as buffaloes, camels, llamas, and the like.

[CHAPTER V.]

COLLECTING AND PRESERVING THE SKINS OF LARGE MAMMALS.

The fundamental principles to be observed in skinning a large mammal are, in general, precisely the same as those which govern the same process in small mammals, and which have been recorded in detail in the preceding chapter. Having done my best to afford the student a clear and full understanding of those principles, it is almost unnecessary to say anything about large mammals. A keen-witted worker could skin any mammal and preserve the skin by the light of the directions already given, with such variations as common-sense would dictate.

But, in order to aid the student to the fullest extent, we will endeavor to state the exceptions and variations of method which are necessary in disposing of large subjects.

Measurements.—Up to this hour there has been a total lack of system and uniformity among naturalists and hunters in taking measurements of large quadrupeds. I have in several important cases found it utterly impossible to interpret the meaning of measurements taken by other collectors—and it is very likely they have experienced the same difficulty in understanding mine. In the hope of securing uniformity hereafter in observations of this kind, I venture to propose the following system, which will apply to all terrestrial mammals larger than the fox, except the large quadrumana. If the method here proposed is rigidly adhered to, it will produce a uniformity in results that will certainly increase the value of specimens collected hereafter. The measurements are listed in the order of their importance, and are fully indicated in the accompanying illustration (Plate III.). Straight lines indicate straight measurements between two points, not following curves; and curved lines indicate circumference measurements.

Record all measurements in feet and inches, and fractions of an inch. If you would have your records understood by the few rather than by the many, then bow to the dictates of the French and German naturalists, who, as a rule, care not a brass farthing for American science or zoological nomenclature, and employ the metric system. The chances are as twenty to one that no one outside of the English language will ever care a continental about your measurements, and for this reason United States measurements ought to be good enough for us. There is no more reason why 120,000,000 English-speaking people should adopt the metric system for a few Europeans who might care for their measurements, than that we should write all our zoological books and papers in French or German. If you wish to make your records available to the people who will care for them, make them in the United States language.

1. Length of head and body to root of tail (Plate III., A-A).—In taking this measurement, lay the animal upon its side, stretch the head straight forward as far as it will go, and hold a stick perpendicular against the tip of the nose. Erect another perpendicular rod under the tail, close to where it joins the body, at the angle formed by the lines A and H, then measure between these two perpendiculars.

2. Height at the shoulders (B-B).—This is a difficult measurement to take, because it is subject to the management of the operator. Plant a perpendicular rod close against the shoulders at the highest point. Then hold the foreleg perfectly straight, at a right angle to the axis of the body, and bend up the foot into the position it would assume if the animal were standing upon it. In short, place the foreleg and foot exactly as they would be were the animal alive and standing, with its weight resting upon it, and measure from the bottom of the heel in a straight line to the perpendicular at the shoulders.

3. Girth behind foreleg.—In taking this, always measure at the point where the girth of a saddle touches the horse, and draw the tape-line taut upon the skin. If the hair is thick and long, part it.

4. Circumference of the neck.

PLATE III. [a]Measurements of a Large Mammal. (Polar Bear on Ice-floe. Mounted by the Author.)]

5. Depth of flank (E-E).—To a taxidermist, this is often a very important guide in the construction of a manikin. There is always a thin fold of skin at the point where the skin of the hind leg passes to the side of a large animal, as indicated by the dotted line in the figure, at the lower end of the line E-E. Erect a perpendicular at the upper end of the line E, and measure between the two points.

6. Circumference of forearm (F-F).—To be taken at the point where the forearm has the greatest circumference.

7. From head of humerus to head of femur.—This is always of extreme value in building a manikin. As the animal lies upon its side, hold the foreleg the same as when you measured the height at the shoulders. Then feel for the two high points G-G, where the skin rests on the outer extremity of the arm and thigh bones (not the pelvis), at shoulder and hip, and measure between the two points.

8. Length of tail (H-H).—Hold the tail down at an angle of forty-five degrees with the axis of the body, or the line A-A, and measure from the angle A-H to the end of the vertebræ of the tail. If you measure to the end of the hair, let this be a supplementary measurement.

These are the measurements which should always be taken on a large animal. Of course, of certain subjects, there are many other measurements that you will want, but your own needs will tell you what they are.

Weight.—It is very desirable to ascertain the weight of an animal whenever possible. A thousand times, at least, have I been asked the weight of my big tiger (495 pounds), and that number of times have I been glad that in spite of jungle fever, I persevered with my 50-pound scales, and weighed the animal piecemeal, after he had been skinned and cut up. With a particularly fine animal it is well worth the trouble it costs.

[a]Fig. 6.]—Opening Cuts on a Large Mammal.

Skinning a Large Mammal.—Rip the skin open by a clean, straight cut from the throat along the neck, breast, middle of the belly, and on to the root of the tail. We are now obliged to slit the legs open along their entire length, so that the cuts will be as much out of sight as possible when the animal is mounted. In making these opening cuts, always insert the point of the knife under the skin, edge uppermost, to avoid cutting the hair. To rip open a leg, seize the foot in your left hand, bring the leg against your own knee to hold it tense and firm, then insert the point of your knife into the middle of the foot at the back, and cut straight up the back of the leg until you come to the "knee" on the foreleg, and hock-joint on the other. At these points gradually change the direction of the cut and run it on up the inside so that it will finally come to the body-cut at a point exactly between the legs, and as much as possible out of sight. The lines in the accompanying figure (6) show how the cuts in the legs should be made. In skinning the head of an animal having antlers or horns, it is necessary to make an opening at the back of the neck shaped like a Y. Make the cuts as shown in Fig. 7, on opposite page; cut completely around each horn at its base, and skin the head by working downward over the forehead and cheeks. The skull is then taken out through this Y[4].

Thoroughness.—The principles to be observed in skinning the body are precisely the same as those given for small mammals. Remember that it is easier to take the skin off clean and free from flesh as you cut it from the animal, and can stretch it tight with your left hand in order to shave the flesh off clean, than it will be to clean the skin after it is off. An excess of flesh left on the skin means unnecessary weight, a waste of preservatives, and longer time in curing the skin. A clean, thin skin is more easily and quickly cured and carried than one badly taken off. My habit is to clean a skin so thoroughly in taking it off that no paring down is necessary before curing it—unless, indeed, it be the skin of an elephant or other pachyderm. When I once preserved the skin of a large, old elephant in an Indian jungle, I kept ten native chucklers at work upon it for three days, thinning it down to a portable degree.

[a]Fig. 7.]—Opening Cuts at Back of Prong-horn Antelope's Head.

The Legs.—If the specimen is of medium size, e.g., not larger than a deer, disjoint the legs at shoulder and hip, and leave all the leg bones attached to the skin, just as with small mammals; but, of course, cutting off the flesh and tendons carefully. If the animal is larger than a deer, the skin would be too heavy and cumbersome to handle if all the leg bones were left attached to it. Therefore, with your elk, moose, buffalo, etc., cut off the foreleg at the "knee" (so called), and the hind leg at the hock-joint, leaving the calcaneum, or heel-bone, attached to the canon bone, and thus remaining with the skin. The bones from the two upper joints of the legs are to be cleaned of flesh, tied in a bundle, and sent with the skin—unless the collector happens to be travelling by pack train in mountainous country, far afield. In such a case we can forgive him for throwing away the large bones of the legs if he will only bring in the skin, skull, and lower leg bones all right. The point is, in mounting a skin we must have leg bones—if not the real ones, then they must be counterfeits carved out of wood, to give shape to the legs, particularly at the joints. And he who tries it once will find it is a two or three days' job to carve a large set of leg bones, even with patterns by which to work, to say nothing of having to evolve models from one's inner consciousness. Therefore, I say, save the leg bones.

Beware of Blood.—By all means keep the hair from getting bloody, but if you cannot possibly keep it clean, keep it as clean as you can. Remember that blood must be washed out on the spot, no matter how scarce water is, nor whether the mercury stand at 110° above zero, or 10° below. If a wound bleeds profusely, throw plenty of dry dirt or sand on the hair that has become bloody, to absorb the blood. The dirt can be knocked out with a stick, and it will take the blood with it. If the white hair of the prong-horn antelope once gets soaked with blood, it is impossible to remove all traces of it. The soft, tubular hairs get filled with blood wherever there is a break, and enough of it will always remain to mark the catastrophe. In the Bad Lands of Montana I once washed three long and bitterly cold hours on a fine antelope skin that had lain twenty-four hours with blood upon it, but had to give up beaten, at last, and throw the skin away.

Shaping.—Since these directions will be used chiefly in preparing the skins of deer, antelope, and kindred ruminants, the accompanying illustration (Fig. 8) is given to show how such skins should be made up when they are to be preserved dry, either for study or for mounting. It is best to defer folding up a skin until it is partially dry and has begun to stiffen a little.

[a]Fig. 8.]—A Well-made Dry Deer Skin.

Special and Exceptional Directions.—Apes and Monkeys.—If you are in the jungle, the chances are that you will have no plaster Paris with which to make casts, in which case you must make the sketching-pencil and tape-measure do double duty. With such a wonderful and characteristic form as a gorilla, chimpanzee, or orang-utan, you cannot study it too much, unless you study it until the skin spoils. Above all things, study every feature of the face, and also its expression, so that you can make a copy of it two years afterward which shall be both mathematically and artistically correct. If you have plaster Paris, fail not to take a mould of the face, and also of one hand and foot, so that later you can make casts. The same advice applies to the great baboons with their fearful and wonderful faces and ischial callosities, some of them gotten up with all the colors of the rainbow, and far more brilliancy. Remember that when the skin dries all those colors totally disappear, and the skin turns to the color of parchment. Therefore, out with your box of colors at once, and make a color-sketch of the face. If you have skill but no colors, or colors with no skill, then out with your "Ridgway's Nomenclature of Colors," make a large diagram or sketch of the head, and mark the names of the respective colors upon it. Whenever the skin of any animal has any noticeable color, record the fact in as definite terms as possible.

All the great anthropoid apes should have the opening-cut for the body made along the middle of the back, up to the back of the head, instead of along the abdomen and breast, which are generally but thinly haired, and on the throat are quite naked. By doing this, the sewed-up seam comes at the back of the mounted specimen, in the hair, and out of sight. With adult specimens of the gorilla, chimpanzee, and orang the skeleton is quite as valuable as the skin, therefore every bone must come forth and be carefully preserved. Skinning the fingers is a tedious task, and one which requires some skill, especially when it comes to working the end off so that the nail is left in its place in the skin, and without mutilation. But when the value of a skin and skeleton runs up into hundreds of dollars, you can well afford to spend a whole hour in skinning a hand, if you cannot do it in less time. The opening cuts for the hand and foot of any ape or monkey are to be made as shown by the dotted lines in the accompanying sketch of the foot of an orang-utan (Fig. 9). This is necessary even in skinning small quadrumanes which are to retain their leg bones, because the skin of each finger must be separated from the bone so that the preservative powder or liquid can get at the inside of it.

[a]Fig. 9.]—Foot of Orang-Utan, showing Opening Cuts.

The Eyes and Nose.—Be exceedingly careful in skinning the face. The eyes are deeply sunken in their sockets, and if you are not very careful your knife will make an ugly gash at the corner of the eye before you know it. A finger held in between the lids against the eyeball will be a safe guide. Of course, you will cut the lips away at the gum, and split them open afterward from the inside to remove the flesh. And, of course, the proboscis of the baboon and the long-nosed monkey of Borneo must be skinned out quite to the tip while the specimen is fresh, or it will dry up horribly.

The Ear.—The ear of a quadrumane, especially that of a chimpanzee, because of its great size, is a very miserable part to preserve, unless you have a salt-and-alum bath at hand. If the cartilage is entirely skinned out—itself a difficult thing to do—it will afterward be almost a practical impossibility to give the ear its proper shape. Therefore the cartilage must remain. The skin can be loosened from the cartilage at the back of the ear, however, which is a great gain. Do this, and insert a good quantity of powdered alum. Then paint the whole ear over on both sides with arsenical soap, and put on all the powdered alum that will stick—unless the skin is to go in the bath. In that case treat each ear to a little strong alum water for an hour or so.

[CHAPTER VI.]

COLLECTING SKINS OF SMALL BIRDS.

The lives of hundreds of thousands of wild birds have been sacrificed to no purpose by persons claiming to be ornithological collectors, and yet who had not the knowledge, skill, or industry to make up good bird skins. There are now in this country numerous large collections of bird skins that are a sight to behold. The ability to make up fine, clean, shapely, well-preserved skins, and make them rapidly also, is a prime requisite in anyone who aspires to be sent off to interesting "foreign parts" to shoot, collect, and see the world—at the expense of someone else. An aspiring young friend of the writer, whose soul yearned to travel and "collect," missed a fine opportunity to make a very interesting voyage on the Albatross, for the sole reason that with all his yearning he could not make good bird skins,—and it served him right for his lack of enterprise.

Let me tell you that, while twenty years ago any sort of a bird skin was acceptable to a museum, now such specimens must be first class in order to be well received. Fine skins are the rule now with curators and professional ornithologists, and poor ones the exception. Although the work itself is simple enough, it is no child's play to perform it successfully.

It is best for the beginner to learn first how to skin small birds, and make up their skins, and when he has mastered these details he is prepared to undertake the preparation of large specimens, and learn how to overcome the exceptional difficulties they present. To this end the present chapter will be devoted to setting forth the leading principles involved, which are most easily learned from small specimens.

We will first undertake the work of skinning a small bird—a robin, thrush, or blackbird, whichever you happen to have. If in skinning, skin-making, and mounting you master the robin, for example, which is the highest type of a bird, you will be well prepared for the great majority of the other members of the feathered tribe.

Shoot your specimen with as fine shot as possible, and not too much even of that, in order to avoid shooting its mandibles, feet, legs, and feathers to pieces. As soon as it is dead, plug the throat, nostrils, and all wounds that bleed, with bits of cotton, to keep the blood and other liquids from oozing out upon the feathers, and putting you to more serious trouble. Carry the specimen home in any careful way you choose, so as to avoid rumpling or soiling the plumage. By all means let your first practice be upon clean birds.

[a]Fig. 10.]—Names of the External Parts of a Bird.[5] 1, Crown; 2, forehead; 3, nostrils (or cere); 4, upper mandible; 5, lower mandible; 6, throat; 7, neck; 8, spurious quills; 9, occiput; 10, ear; 11, nape; 12, breast; 13, middle coverts; 14, large coverts; 15, belly; 16, tibia; 17, tarsus; 18, inner toe; 19, middle toe; 20, outer toe; 21, thumb; 22, under-tail coverts; 23, tail; 24, primaries; 25, secondaries; 26, tertiaries.

A bird should lie an hour or two after being shot, in order that the blood may coagulate. Warm specimens bleed very badly in skinning.