Fig. 23.—Nest on Wire Standard, with Labels.
Collecting Eggs.—In connection with a collection of nests, each nest holding its own lawful and original contents, a good collection of birds' eggs possesses much interest and beauty.
In collecting and preserving eggs, the most difficult feature of all is to remove the embryos successfully. In the days when I diligently collected eggs in many lands, it seemed to me that out of every dozen eggs I gathered, about thirteen contained from one to two embryos each! But there are ways in which this difficulty can be successfully overcome.
The full set of eggs laid by a bird for one brood is called a "clutch," and in collecting it is of scientific importance that whole sets should be collected and always kept separate, and the number of eggs in each set taken should be recorded.
Eggs are always blown through a small, round hole in the middle of one side, preferably in each instance on the poorest side of the egg, if it has one. Of course, the smaller the egg, the smaller the drill must be, and the greater the care in handling. It is often a good plan to pierce the shell with a needle in order to furnish the drill a point of attack. If an egg is cracked, or happens to be of such value that it must be saved at all hazards, reinforce it by pasting narrow strips of goldbeater's skin or court-plaster across the line of fracture.
Having drilled the hole, insert the end of a small wire, having a small portion of the end bent at a right angle, and if the embryo has not begun to develop, or happens to be quite small and soft, twirl the wire rapidly between your thumb and finger, to thoroughly break up the contents of the egg. Having accomplished this, insert the tip of your blow-pipe (the best in the world consists of a tube of glass bent at a right angle and terminating in a fine point, with the large end set in the end of a rubber bulb, which saves the mouth and lungs all trouble) and with gentle and gradual pressure blow in air. Hold the egg with the hole downward, of course, so that the contents will run out freely. Go slowly and carefully, even coaxingly, for too great pressure will burst any ordinary egg in two parts very neatly. If the embryo is small and disposed to be accommodating, help it out by inserting the point of your smallest scissors, snipping it to pieces, and then drawing out the parts, one by one, with your smallest forceps.
Having emptied the egg of its contents, introduce some clear water by way of the blow-pipe, wash out the inside thoroughly,and in case the egg is in a clean, healthy condition, it can now be laid away on cotton or cornmeal, with the hole downward, to drain and get dry. Observe this point, however. The thin, membranous lining of an egg, which the point of the drill pierces but cannot cut away, often closes together inside the hole so closely as to retain, for some time, whatever water might chance to remain. For this reason it was my custom to cut away this membrane around the edges of the hole. Captain Bendire remarks that "eggs that have been thoroughly cleaned will retain their original color much better, and insects or mice are not so apt to trouble them."
Removing Large Embryos.—It often happens that eggs are taken quite near the hatching point, containing embryos so lusty in size, and so "very fillin'" that their successful ejectment seems impossible.Nil desperandum.The way out of the difficulty is through a very small hole. On this point I appealed to the highest authority, Captain Bendire, and he kindly gave me, in general substance, the following directions:
In the first place, make up your mind to go slow, and take plenty of time. If the egg is valuable and the embryo is large, reinforce the egg all over with strips of goldbeater's skin or court-plaster. Having drilled a fairly large hole, then insert the head of a needle in a small stick for a handle, and with the point pierce the embryo in twenty or thirty places. The egg sac, which is always present, should be taken out, if possible with the forceps, to give room for water.
Having cleared out the egg as far as possible, fill it up with water to assist in the decomposition of the embryo. Cover the bottom of a box with a layer of cornmeal or sawdust; lay the egg on this, with the hole upward (still full of water), cover the box, and place it under a stove or in any other place warm enough to hasten the process of decomposition. Work at the egg a little about every alternate day, but without hurrying matters, and keep this process in operation until the embryo softens, falls to pieces, and is ready to be drawn out piecemeal. In removing a large embryo, try to get hold of the tip of the mandible with the small forceps, so that it can be drawn out, point foremost, without splitting the shell.
Eggs that emit an offensive odor after they have been blownneed to be rinsed out with carbolic acid and water, or some equally good disinfectant.
It is, of course, to be understood that eggs must be clean on the outside before they are fit for the cabinet. Usually soap and warm water is sufficient to remove dirt and stains, but occasionally a particularly hard case calls for the addition of a little washing soda in the water. The last washing, however, should always be in clear water.
Inasmuch as a label cannot be attached to an egg, the data necessary to give the egg a respectable position in the oological world must be written on the under side of the egg itself, either in lead pencil or India ink, which is capable of being erased, at will.
The following are the data that should be recorded on every egg collected and kept:
1. Name of species, or number in A.O.U. check list, if North American.
2. Collector's number, which belongs toevery eggof a given set, and refers to his catalogue and field notes.
3. Number of eggs in the set, or "clutch."
4. Date in full.
In packing eggs for shipment, a great many small boxes of wood or tin are absolutely essential, and in these the eggs must be carefully packed in cotton, each one separated from the rest of the world by a layer of cotton. It is an excellent plan to wrap every large egg separately in cotton, as oranges are wrapped in papers. Captain Bendire recommends the making of divisions, one for each egg, with strips of pasteboard, like the crates in which egg producers pack eggs for shipment to market. This gives each egg a compartment by itself, with a bit of soft cotton cloth at top and bottom. If produce dealers can afford to take such care of eggs worth only thirty cents per dozen, surely oologists can do the same when they are within the pale of civilization, and can get the materials.
At the National Museum the duplicate eggs are stored in small, rectangular, shallow pasteboard trays, or half boxes, each of which has its bottom covered very neatly and exactly with a section of cotton wadding, which gives a soft, springy cushion for the eggs to lie on without the undesirable fluffy looseness of ordinary cotton batting.
Keeping everlastingly at it brings success.
Itwould be impossible for me to dwell too strongly upon the importance, nay, even the vital necessity to the taxidermist, of a commodious and suitable workroom, and a good supply of proper tools and materials. Anyone setting up a store of any kind meets the expenditures for fixtures and furniture as a matter of course; but the average taxidermist would consider it a killing thing to invest from $100 to $200 in good tools and materials. First-class tools, and a good assortment of them, are indispensable allies in the production of the finest kind of work in the shortest possible time.
In taxidermy let us have no making of bricks without straw. As well might an artist attempt to paint a grand picture with a sash tool as a taxidermist attempt to mount fine specimens with a dull knife, an old file, and a pair of rusty pliers.
Let us suppose we are fitting up a taxidermic laboratory in which to mount all kinds of vertebrate animals, great and small. To begin with, we must have a good room, if possible 15 X 25 feet, or even larger, withgood light, a high ceiling, and an abundant supply of water. There must be somewhere a storeroom for bulky materials, and a drying-room for freshly mounted specimens. There must be provided somewhere, for the wet mammal skins, a big, box-like tank lined with sheet lead, for very large objects, and some alcohol barrels for smaller ones.These must be provided with tight covers, or the salt-and-alum bath will evaporate with great rapidity.
After the above, our laboratory will require the following
Furniture and Fixtures.—A heavy work-table, 8 feet long, 4 feet wide, and 2 feet 6 inches high; top 1-1/2 inch thick.
A tool case and chest of drawers.
A stove, a chopping-block, a heavy bench vise.
A grindstone, a blacksmith's anvil, and portable forge.
A water-tight platform on castors, on which to stand large mammals that are wet and dripping.
Tools.
Materials.—Excelsior; hemp tow of two qualities, coarse and fine, both of long fibre; flax tow, such as upholsterers use; cotton batting; oat straw; potter's clay; good glue; plaster Paris; arsenical soap; spirits of turpentine; benzine; salt by the barrel; ground alum by the hundredweight; pine and hemlock lumber, one to two inches thick; 2×4 pine scantling; an assortment of annealed wire; rods of Norway iron, from 3/16 inch to 1 inch; nails, tacks, wrought-iron staples, screws, nuts, bolts,wrapping twine; rosettes for iron standards; washers, all sizes; alcohol, shellac, white hard oil finish (varnish); muriatic acid, sheet wax, sperm oil; glass eyes, all sizes, kinds and colors; unlimited pluck, patience, and perseverance.
If the worker intends to mount only birds and small mammals, he will need but a very small portion of the tools and materials enumerated above. But fie! Where is the taxidermist worthy of the name who will admit that his resources are limited, or that he is not able and ready to "set up" any animal that may be brought to him, no matter how big or how bad it is. Perish the thought that he is not able to cope with dog, deer, or even elephant.
We now start on the supposition that you have acquired all the tools and materials you are likely to need, and that our subsequent work is not going to halt or hang fire on account of the lack of this or that article.
Relaxing Dry Skins.—Nearly all mammal skins that go fromone country to another are sent in a dry state, and it is a rare exception to obtain a foreign skin in any other condition. It therefore behooves the mammal taxidermist to become a thorough expert in softening dry skins of all kinds and sizes, and bringing them into mountable condition.
To relax a dry skin, rip it open, remove the filling material, and immerse it in a weak butcleansalt-and-alum bath (see Chapter IV.) until it becomes soft, be the time required three days or three weeks. If you are in a great hurry, soak the skin at first for a brief period in clear water, and if it is milk-warm, so much the better. Sometimes a skin is so old and hard and refractory that the bath of salt and alum seems to make no impression upon it, in which case try clear water. In a few hours it will yield and collapse, and then it must be put into the bath, or the water will soon macerate it, and cause the hair to slip off. You can leave the skin in the salt-and-alum bath as long as you choose without endangering it in any way.
The inside of every dry skin usually has over it a hard, inelastic coating which, when once gotten rid of by shaving or scraping, leaves the skin underneath measurably soft and elastic, according to its kind. If the skin is a small one, or no larger than that of a wolf, the best way to get it in working order is to lay it flat upon the table, and go at it vigorously with the skin-scraper (see Fig. 24). In this there must be no half-way measures, no modesty, no shirking. Bear on hard, dig away at the same spot with all your energy, first in one direction, then crosswise, then diagonally. Scrape as if you were scraping on a wager, and presently the skin will become sothinned down it will become quite soft, and even elastic. This is hard work, it starts the perspiration and keeps it going, but it will conquer the hardest skin that ever was made.
To make a skin sufficiently elastic to mount, it must be turned wrong-side out and scraped all over thoroughly with a skin-scraper, from nose to tip of tail, and phalanges. Small skins yield far more readily and kindly than the larger ones. The skins that are hardest, horniest, and most refractory are those of the capybara, all of theSuidæ(hogs), and tropical deer. I have mounted skins of these that when first softened were precisely like horn,—and at best with such subjects the resulting specimens are only "passable."
Sometimes when the scraper can make no impression, it becomes necessary to laboriously pare down the inside of an entire skin with the knife before scraping it. This is tedious, but effective, for a sharp knife leaves no room for argument.
Fig. 24.—Skin-Scrapers, about one-fourth actual size.
All skins larger than a gray wolf, whether they be fresh or dry, need to be stretched on a beam, and pared down with a sharp draw-shave that has adjustable handles. This useful instrument can be bought at any large hardware store for $1.25. Keep it thoroughly sharp. The beam should be about seven feet in length, and six by three inches in size, and laid flat. One end of it is to be bolted firmly down to your bench by two movable iron bolts, and the half which projects beyond the edge of the table must have both of its upper edges rounded off so that it will represent half a cylinder with the convexity uppermost. The table itself must be fastened securely in place. Throw the skin over the rounded end of this beam, drive a stout "scratch-awl" through it, just beyond the reach of yourarms, stretch and flatten the skin upon the beam, and with the draw-shave carefully shave down the entire skin until it is thin enough.
Be very careful at first, until your hands acquire skill, or you will cut through the skin, which, in the case of an animal like a hair seal means an unsightly, permanent defect. Do not be afraid of paring a skin too thin so long as you stop at the roots of the hair.
Of course you can not pare down the skin of the head and feet with the draw-shave, and these must be treated with the knife and scraper. The skin of the head of every mammal must be pared down and scraped particularly thin all over, especially the eyelids, lips, and nostrils, so that when these parts are backed up with clay you can model them into exquisitely fine form and expression. If you slight the skin of the head, good-by to all expression; you will merely be able to "stuff" it, and that is all. If its features look coarse, uncouth, and wooden, it will probably be because the thickness and inelasticity of the skin defies your art.
Of course the joints of the feet must be got into working order. The leg bones and skull require to be thoroughly scraped and cleaned, and the skin itself worked up as nearly as possible to the condition of a fresh subject.
Carving Wooden Skulls and Leg Bones.—It is absolutely essential that every mammal to be mounted should have a skull, and all save the smallest should have leg bones also. If the skull and leg bones that belong in a skin are missing, I invariably carve others of the same size out of soft pine to replace the lost members. These bones are imperatively necessary to give shape and length to the various joints and angles of the limbs, to shape the head, to give a foundation for the attachment of wires, and to build upon generally. Very often the skull of an animal is of such value to science that it must be kept out of the skin at all hazards, and exhibited separately. Then it must be duplicated in wood.
Every mammal taxidermistmustlearn how to carve wooden bones, and the quicker he becomes expert at it, the better. Very few tools are required, and these are as follows: A small hatchet, a pair of 8-inch calipers, a pair of 8-inch dividers, gouges of three sizes, 1/4, 1/2, and 3/4 inch; chisels of about four sizesbetween 3/8 and 1 inch, a draw-shave, a spoke-shave, a good sharp pocket-knife, and the usual supply of boring tools.
PLATE V.Paring Down a Large Mammal Skin.
To carve a wooden skull, proceed as follows: If you have not the genuine skull to use as a pattern, you must procure one from an animal of the same species, and ascertain its size in comparison with what the wooden skull must be,e.g., whether it be larger or smaller. Then procure a piece of soft pine timber, free from knots, and thick enough to turn out a skull of the proper size. If this can not be found in one piece, glue together several pieces of pine until they form a block of the proper size. On the top of this block place your genuine skull, and trace its outline on the wood, making your outline larger or smaller, as it may need to be, and bilaterally symmetrical. Now take your hatchet and hew the two sides of the block down exactly to this outline. This represents the "ground plan" of the skull.
To get the side elevation, sketch out on the side of this block a side-view outline of the skull, and then hew down to that. With your dividers, locate exactly the inner edge of the orbits, and then mark out with a pencil the entire circle of each orbit. With a gouge carve out the hollows neatly, and then with your flat chisels attack the cranium, round off its angles, and so work over the entire skull.
Measure frequently with the calipers to see that the dimensions are correct. There is no need to go into any of the details of the back part, or basi-occipital portion of the skull, nor with any other details except those that lie on the surface. It is important to shape the orbits, zygomatic arch, the frontal bones, the muzzle and lower jaw, quite accurately, for these bones bear scarcely any flesh. In making skulls for apes and monkeys the greatest care is necessary to produce the facial angle, orbits, and muzzle, so sharply characteristic of the various families.
When a wooden skull is used, the mouth should always be closed, unless it is very necessary to have it open. While it is possible to take moulds from a real skull, and cast a full set of teeth in plaster or lead, or to set real teeth, or painted wooden imitations, into a wooden skull, the result is generally unsatisfactory to a critical eye. When teeth are cast and painted, the paint always changes color with age, causing the teeth to look"made up." If you can not have a real skull with genuine teeth in it, for whatever mammal you are mounting, no one has any right to require that it be mounted with open mouth, unless the head is to go on a rug instead of a scientific specimen.
Observe the following precautions in making a skull:
1. Be sure that it has the proper facial angle.
2. Be sure that it is in no way too large. Better have it too small than too large.
3. Be sure that there are no sharp corners upon it anywhere, lest they come out next to the skin in mounting, and cause trouble.
When a skull is finished, bore a hole (or two in some cases) through it from the occiput to the centre of the nose or mouth, for the passage of the neck irons or wires that are to support the head.
The principles involved in carving skulls apply equally to carving leg bones, except in this work there is much to be done with the draw-shave and spoke-shave. Of course they require to be wired together at the joints, with two wires at each joint, so that the space between them may be channelled out with a gouge to receive the leg iron.
Sewing up Holes in Skins.—After thoroughly cleaning a skin, take a glover's three-cornered needle of the proper size, and a waxed thread from a ball of strong linen thread, or "gilling twine," and sew up all the holes that are to be found in the skin. It requires some little ingenuity sometimes to know just how to trim the edges of a hole so that it can be sewed up without puckering the skin, but a little experimenting will soon reveal the way.
If you have to sew up a cut which has no hair to cover it, sew tightly with a curve-pointed needle, starting the stitches on the inside well back from the edge, and sewing only three-quarters of the way through the skin. Draw the edges tightly together. When the sewing is finished, place a flat bar of iron or wood underneath the seam, and hammer it with a hammer all the way along. This will flatten the ridge formed by the sewing, and will render the seam almost invisible.
In order to do fine work, a taxidermist must be quite expert in the use of the needle and thread. In sewing up skins there are two points to be aimed at, viz.:
1. To sew strongly.
2. To sew so neatly that the seam will be as nearly invisible as possible.
For general work one must also have common round needles, and No. 30 thread for very fine sewing, as, for instance, torn eye corners or lips, and holes in the face where the skin is very thin and there is little hair, or none at all; three-cornered glover's needles, Nos. 00, 1, 2, 3; and three sizes of strong linen sewing twine. In the beginning of your work acquire the habit of being particular about the size of the needle and thread you use upon a skin, and never let them be larger than necessary. When special strength is needed, double the thread and wax it with beeswax to prevent its rotting. Always sew with the ball stitch,e.g., from the inside of the skin to the outside, every stitch. It is often convenient to use a curved needle, and this can be made by heating a glover's needle to a red heat in the flame of a spirit lamp and curving it while hot.
How to Make Long Needles.—In making manikins, and also for other purposes, it is necessary to have a set of needles varying in length from six to eighteen inches, or even longer. You can buy needles up to ten inches in length from anyone who keeps upholsterers' supplies, but the longer ones you must make for yourself. To do this, take a piece of No. 12 or 13 steel wire and grind one end to a point. For the eye, heat the other end red hot, flatten it with the hammer, then heat it again, lay it on a bar of lead, and with a brad-awl and hammer punch an eye in it while hot.
Neck Irons in Mounting Mammals.—Never allow a neck iron to come through the top of the skull, through the forehead, or through the face anywhere. The neck iron, which must support the entire weight of the head and neck, should pass through the back of the skull and into the nasal cavity. Let the iron extend some inches beyond the end of the nose until the neck is made, and the head placed in position, for not until then can you tell what length the neck iron should be. When the head is well-nigh finished, take a small hack-saw and saw off the neck iron close up to the nasal cavity, so far from the end of the nose that by no possible chance can the animal shrink so much in drying that the end of the iron will protrude through one of the nostrils and into view.
General Remarks.—We may assume that any one who is ambitiousto excel in taxidermic work desires to do so by the high character of his productions, and the recommendation they silently give him. I am well convinced that any one who takes the trouble to read this book will welcome the following principles that apply very generally in mounting the higher vertebrates, and are, at all events, intended to increase the average of general excellence and permanency in mounted specimens.
A place in the front rank of taxidermists is not to be easily won. It can only be accomplished by the studious methods of the sculptor, the experience and observation of the field naturalist, and a combination of these with technical and mechanical skill in the laboratory. The painter paints but one side of his animal, and he is not hampered by bulk or measurements. The sculptor blithely builds up his clay model, with neither skin, bones, nor hair to vex his soul. The taxidermist must not only equal the form of the sculptor's clay model, but he must also make it to fit a certain skin with exactitude.
The ideal taxidermist must be a combination of modeller and anatomist, naturalist, carpenter, blacksmith, and painter. He must have the eye of an artist, the back of a hod-carrier, the touch of a wood-chopper one day, and of an engraver the next.
With increased skill on the part of the workers has come increased appreciation on the part of museum officials, and higher salaries. Let me say to aspiring beginners, there is plenty of room at the top, and money and glory to spare for those who get there. But there is no royal road to fortune in this business. Success means years of earnest work and study.
With the understanding, therefore, that we are aiming at perfection, and that "a little knowledge is a dangerous thing," we will endeavor to call attention to a few principles which underlie all good work in taxidermy. At the same time I will try to point out a few of the most common faults generally observable in mounted specimens.
Permanency.—This is the foundation on which every specimen must be built in order to be first class. A preserved and mounted animal that has not enough solidity and stability to stand the test of time is unworthy of a place in any museum or private residence, for its existence is sure to terminate speedily in disappointment, disgust, and loss. During the last eight years the National Museum and American Museum of Natural History have thrown away and otherwise gotten rid of enough stuffed specimens to stock a small museum, and all because of poor and unstable taxidermic work only twenty years ago.
A taxidermist who knows his business can mount a specimen to last ten years or ten hundred, just as he chooses. If you, like a certain taxidermist I once knew, believe in "quantity not quality," then you, like him, can use small and weak supporting irons ("they work so much easier than heavy ones!"), half clean your skins and skulls, ram a skin full of excelsior, straw, paper, and rubbish from your dirt-box, sew it up with long stitches and cheap twine, cram its eyes and nostrils with nasty putty, and insert the cheapest eyes obtainable. Then, while the specimen may look passably well during its first six months, by the end of two years its sides will be a succession of hills and hollows, its seams will be ripped and gaping wide open, its nose will be shrivelled up and shapeless, its ears will look like dry autumn leaves; it will lean over helplessly to one side, and will also have settled down upon its feet until they are shapeless deformities.
This is no fancy picture, for it fairly represents the condition of many a buffalo, deer, and moose that I have been called upon to either dismount, remount, or destroy. A dishonest taxidermist may slight the interior work of a specimen and have it escape detection for six months, or even a year, but time soon tells the story. Dishonest or careless work, likemurder, will out. In a bird, it expresses itself in a look of roughness, and a general falling away from grace at all points.
To secure perfect stability and permanence in a mounted specimen, observe conscientiously the following principles in its construction:
1. Pare every skin down thin, so that its shrinking power will be reduced to a minimum. This will prevent its seams from opening.
2. Poison with the utmost thoroughness, so that even though the specimen should chance to stand unprotected for years where insect pests are thickest, they can find nothing to feed upon in its hair or feathers.
3. Use heavy supporting irons or wires, as heavy as the specimen will accommodate without sacrificing the form and position of legs and feet. The fault of using the lightest possible supports is entirely too common, and is so thoroughly reprehensible in a taxidermist that it becomes a vice.
4. Make the mechanical structure of every specimen (e.g., the fastening together of the body, limbs, head, neck, and tail), so firm that the rigidity of all is complete. It is then, and only then, in your power to place any member of the body in a desirable attitude and have it remain fixed.
5. Every portion of the skin should rest upon afirm, smoothsurface of clay, excelsior, straw, or tow, according to circumstances. If there are lumps under the skin, they will appear soon after it is dry, and destroy its smoothness. If there are hollows, the result will be the same.
6. The larger the specimen the thicker is the skin, and consequently the harder and more unyielding should be the material it rests upon. Do not make a manikin with hoop iron and burlap, and a little loose filling between that and the skin, for specimens so mounted nearly always come to grief. If you stuff a skin with straw, excelsior, or tow, pack the filling in a solid mass, for with the lapse of time all such materials are bound to shrink, no matter how hard you make them at first. The shrinkage of straw is often remarkable and highly disastrous.
Attitude.—On this subject no fixed rules can be offered. To one fact, however, which should always be borne in mind by thepreparator, I must call special attention, and that is as follows: Animals of all kinds, even in a state of nature, and entirely of their own volition, often assume attitudes that are highly ungraceful, unpleasing to the eye, and anything but fairly representative of the creature's form and habits. This being the case, do not make the mistake of concluding that because you have seen a particular animal assume a particular attitude, it is "natural," and therefore you can do no better than to reproduce that attitude in the specimen you are mounting. No, a thousand times no. This mistake will lead to the reproduction of many an ugly attitude, even though like life itself.
Every animal is capable of assuming scores of different attitudes, and from all these you shouldchoose the one which is most strikingly characteristic of the subject, most truly representative, and which does the animal the same sort of justice that you seek at the hands of the artist when you go to have your own picture taken. On such occasions you do not lounge ungracefully, nor "stand stoop-shouldered," nor look listless; you stand erect, at your full height, and look your very best. Make your animal do the same.
For your own picture you do not assume a violent and tragic attitude, nor anything strained. You stand or sit at ease, quietly but intently regarding something in particular; or your attitude may with equal propriety represent a moment of rest in the course of some quiet action. Pose your mounted specimens according to the same principles, and the results will be most satisfactory to all. The choice of an attitude depends wholly upon your artistic instincts, "upon your eye," so to speak. Choose that one which is most graceful or grand, and is at the same time truly characteristic of the subject. To my mind, the attitude taken by an animal when startled by visible or suspected danger, is the onepar excellencein which it appears at its best when mounted. Under such conditions the animal always stands fully erect, head aloft, and with every sense keenly on the alert. The next best attitude is that which represents an animal quietly walking or climbing, according to its habits and modes of progression.
The subject of groups and grouping will be considered in full later on in this work.
Proportions.—On this point a single observation will be sufficient. The taxidermist often receives, from the zoological gardens and menageries, specimens that are very thin in flesh. In mounting an animal, do not let your knowledge of anatomy run away with your judgment, art, and even nature itself, by producing a tiger, panther, zebra, or buffalo with all its ribs showing, and its scapula, pelvis, and vertebral column all standing out in bold relief. Unless the individuals of a given species are always scrawny, I pray you, for the sake of truth and justice, do not make your solitary representative of that species look like a candidate for special honors at a bone-yard.
Let me assure you, on the honor of a hunter, that animals in a state of nature are nearly always well fed and plump-looking, and show very few bones. It is easy to make ribs on a clay-covered manikin, but do not do it on a wild animal, unless you deliberately intend to produce a starveling. According to its nature, make every animal look well-fed and in good condition,but not fat. It seldom happens that a wild animal in a state of nature grows really fat, but it is still more seldom that one looks under-fed and poor. If fatness is a special characteristic of a species, then fat let it be, but scrawny never.
Above all things, avoid in your birds and quadrupeds the half-filled body which makes the subject look as if it had been eviscerated. The abdomen is always convex, not concave.
The Uses of Clay as a Filling Material.—The value of clay in the mounting of mammals, reptiles, and fishes can hardly be overestimated. Previous to 1880 its use among the taxidermists of my acquaintance was unknown, and when its value was discovered and put to general use by the writer, in the year mentioned, many of my rivals predicted all manner of evil from it. They declared it would destroy skins, go to dust within them, become soft mud in damp weather, crack, etc. I persisted in its use, disproving all evil prognostications, and now its general use really marks a new era in American taxidermy. By means of this common and cheap material it is not only possible but easy to mount a horse, a seal, a hairless dog, a turtle, snake, fish, or any other animal, with absolute accuracy in every detail of form and size. Not only is this true, but, so far as I can discover, there is no other material than clay withwhich these results can be accomplished. For covering manikins, coating the skulls of large animals, and for filling in the nose, mouth, eyes, and ears, it is everything that could be desired. With it a stretched skin,
"A world too wide for his shrunk shank,"
"A world too wide for his shrunk shank,"
can be worked together on the clay-covered manikin, and reduced in size until it fits without the slightest visible wrinkle, or any cutting out such as used to be necessary by the old methods.
To prepare clay for use, take the clean, worked chunks of soft potter's clay (which costs about two cents per pound, and should be quite free from sand and grit), put the right quantity in a pail, and pour a little water upon it. With the hands knead it until the water is taken up, and it becomes as soft as dough. It will, of course, be quite sticky, and in this state is altogether too soft to use except to cover a large manikin, in which case it must be soft enough to spread easily with the hand. For ordinary use, however, chop up finely, with the hatchet, some clean hemp tow of long fibre, and mix it thoroughly with the clay, which can be done only with the hand. This makes the clay more stiff, about like soft putty, and of the proper consistency for filling into feet, cheeks, eyes, mouth, nose, etc. If the clay is too soft, you will have difficulty in making it retain the proper form under the skin. If it is too stiff, it balls up, and you can not work it along under the skin from one part to another. When you learn to make it of just the right consistency it works to perfection, no matter where you put it, and will forever retain the form your fingers give it by pressure from without. Elsewhere will be given more detailed advice in regard to the various uses of clay.
Coloring.—The time was when American curators held it sacrilege to paint the soft parts of birds, and the hairless portions of certain mammals. For my part, I have always fought that idea unconditionally, in season and out of season, and I am glad to say that within the last eight years it has been utterly abandoned. Clearly, it is better to reproduce the colors of soft parts as accurately as one can, rather than let them remain in acolorless, dry, and mummified condition, hideous to the eye and meaningless to the understanding. By all means let us color everything that has color in life, though the heavens fall. Ascertain in some way what the color should be (this can often be done by reference to books with colored plates), then paint accordingly. Paint with turpentine and oil, rather than with oil alone, which leaves an unnatural gloss. You can tone down any oil color, however, by stippling it with a stipple brush dipped in a pan of dry color, or plaster Paris. The taxidermist who can paint the exposed parts of his specimens accurately and artistically has a very powerful advantage over all those who can not. This subject will also receive special attention elsewhere.
General Finish.—In all work on specimens, cultivate a delicate and artistic touch, and then leave its impress upon everything you do. Do not leave a specimen looking as if a coal heaver had finished it. Work at it, and keep on working at it until it is perfect; and then go back to it the next day, and work at it some more! There is no inferno too deep or too hot for a slovenly, slatternly taxidermist. The fault with such workers usually lies not so much in their lack of skill as in their lack of patience and the dogged stick-to-itiveness that conquers all difficulties, no matter whether they come singly, in platoons, or by divisions. Delicacy is just as essential in the production of good work as originality and strength.
Inattempting to give the beginner a fair start in the generalwork of mounting small mammals of all sorts, from mice up to small foxes, I will describe in detail the entire process of mounting a typical specimen, which in this instance will be a squirrel. This will embody all the general principles involved, and after having laid this foundation we will proceed to consider exceptional cases, and describe the manner in which they must be met. The exceptional cases are bats, rabbits, young animals of the smaller species, and a few others.
We will assume that the subject before us is either a "dry skin" which has been fully relaxed, scraped, and rendered perfectly pliable and elastic, or else "a fresh skin,"i.e., one which has been preserved in our antiseptic solution (the salt-and-alum bath) or possibly in alcohol, and has therefore never been dried. For the sake of the beginner's courage, which should never be taken out of him at the very first onset by putting him on a dry skin of doubtful quality, we will take the skin of a fine, old, gray squirrel (Sciurus carolinensis) which lies in the bath waiting to be immortalized—or something else.
It may easily happen that for good and sufficient reasons the beginner has no salt-and-alum bath, and can not prepare one. In that event the skin can be mounted immediately after it is taken off the animal, only it is necessary to apply to itafterthe arsenical soap, as directed hereafter, a copious quantity of powdered alum. If you have no arsenical soap, then as you proceed with the mounting moisten the inside of the skin with water, and rub on powdered alum and arsenic, mixed in equal parts, and be sure that the skin is everywhere coated with it eventually. This leaves the fur dry and clean, and will save you the trouble of drying and dressing it.
On taking our squirrel skin from the bath to mount it we find its texture is firm, and it is somewhat shrunken in size, so that when it is filled out it will not stretch all out of proportion. If either in haste or carelessness you have left a layer of flesh upon the skin, pare it off until the inside of the skin is quite clean. If any holes have been cut by bullets or knives, sew then up from the inside with a strong linen thread and a No. 3 glover's needle—three-cornered.
Now for the wires. Measure the leg bones from the sole of the foot to the end of the thigh-bone, add three inches for what the wire must project beyond the sole of the foot, five inches more at the other end, and cut a No. 15 annealed iron wire[8]of the length thus obtained, for each hind leg. The length of the wires for the forelegs is obtained in the same way. Thus for our squirrel, the wires for the hind legs must be fourteen inches long, and for the forelegs twelve.
Cut another No. 15 wire twice the length from the back of the head to the root of the tail, and this will be the body wire eighteen inches long. The tail wire must be smaller, No. 17, long enough to reach from the tip of the tail to the centre of the body—seventeen inches. Straighten all these wires carefully, lay them together on the table, and remember the purpose of each. If they are rusty, rub them with sand paper. File one end of the tail wire to a tapering point, for the tip of our squirrel's tail is very slender.
We are now ready to make one of the legs, and will begin with one of the hind legs. Take one of the two longest wires, pass one end of it through the slit in the skin at the bottom of the foot, let it project three inches beyond the sole of the foot, and up into the skin of the leg. Now bend the wire until it fits closely along the under side of the leg bones as seen in the accompanying illustration. Tie it firmly with linen thread to the bones of the foot, to thetibiaand thefemur, as seen in the accompanying illustration.