The next thing is to poison the skin. Do this with a mixture of powdered a.r.s.enic and alum, in equal parts. Some of our most extensive collectors use no alum, simply pure a.r.s.enic in liberal quant.i.ty; but I consider that the use of alum also is always desirable, and under certain conditions it is extremely so. Some collectors use a.r.s.enical soap exclusively, even on small birds, and on large birds I, too, have used it quite extensively, supplemented by an immediate sprinkling of powdered alum, to do the curing of the skin. For genuine thoroughness in poisoning and preserving, I will back a.r.s.enical soap and alum against all other substances the world can produce; but in treating _small birds that are to be made up as dry skins_, I prefer and recommend powdered a.r.s.enic and alum, as stated above.

Whatever poison you decide to use, apply it thoroughly to every part of the skin, the skull, wings, legs, and tail. Now put a ball of cotton in each eye-socket to fill up the cavity, and you are ready to reverse the skin and bring it right side out once more. It is usually some trouble to get the skin back over the skull, and that I accomplish in this wise:

Let the skin rest on the edge of the table, place both of your thumbs on the back of the skull, and with all your fingers and finger-nails, reach forward and begin to crowd the skin of the head back where it belongs. At the same time, you must push on the skull with your thumbs, as if trying to push it into the neck, and in a very short time, by a combination of coaxing and crowding, the skin made pa.s.ses the critical point on the skull, and, presto! the whole skin is right side out once more. Now take it by the bill and give it a gentle shaking to stir up the feathers so that they will fall back naturally. Pluck outward the cotton in the orbit into the opening of the eye, to imitate the round fulness of the eyeball.

The wing bones of very small birds need not be wrapped with cotton, but the leg bones should be, always. Now take a bunch of cotton batting of the right size, and roll it between the palms until it attains the proper size to fill the neck, and is a trifle longer than the entire body and neck.

Fold over one end of this, take it between the points of your forceps, insert it through the neck, and into the cavity of the skull. Tuck up the other end at the tail, and give the cotton body its right length. Then in the middle of the skin, pull the cotton roll apart sidewise, spread it out and lay on it a ball of cotton to form the body.

Next, take hold of the broken humerus with the forceps, and pull it inward until the joint of the wing appears, and the two humeri lie parallel and close to each other. This draws the wings into place.

Be sure to put enough cotton in the body of a skin; for a little plumpness and rotundity is desirable in a small skin. Avoid making cylindrical bird skins; avoid the East Indian native habit of crowding the breast of a bird clear up into its neck, and also avoid stretching a skin.

We have now to finish the head by inserting a little bunch of cotton in the throat, until that part is properly filled, and plucking out or cutting off the surplus. The mandibles must be held together by a thread or a pin until they have dried in position. Next adjust the wings, legs, and tail. The tail should be slightly spread, and there are two ways of doing this. One is to reverse the natural overlapping of the tail feathers, which is the quickest way, and quite satisfactory. The other is to lay the skin on a board, put a pin through each corner of the "pope's nose," spread the tail, and thrust the pins into the board until the skin is dry. Finally, tie on your label, which should be as small as possible to contain the necessary data--locality, date, s.e.x, number, collector's name, measurements, and remarks. Some collectors label only with numbers, corresponding with recorded data in a note-book; but it is a bad plan. Note-books often get lost, and then such specimens lose half their value.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 13.--The Bird Skin in Position.]

WRAPPING UP A SKIN.--There are various ways of "laying out" bird skins. The best is to wrap each skin in a very thin sheet of cotton batting or wadding, which draws with the softness of down, and yet, when pinched or twisted at the ends, it holds every feather in place. The bird skins prepared by Mr. William Palmer, one of the National Museum taxidermists, are fine examples of how skins should be made. Mr. Palmer's method of shaping and wrapping up a small skin is as follows, and the accompanying figures are from specimens prepared by him: Take the skin up between the left thumb and forefinger, at the shoulders, and pinch it together, while with the small forceps you adjust the scapulars over the point of the wings. Cross the feet, lay the skin breast downward on a thin sheet of cotton batting of the proper dimensions, and arrange the feathers of the back, the wings, etc. (Fig. 13). Then lift the outer edge of the sheet of cotton, bring it forward over the skin toward the operator, so that it will cover the back (Fig. 14). Next, lift the inner edge of the cotton sheet, draw it with gentle pressure to make the skin of the right size, and lap it well over the other. The two edges of the cotton sheet will stick together very well by simply overlapping them.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 14.--The Skin Half Wrapped.]

The head can be adjusted by pulling on the cotton at that end, and pinching the end together beyond the head. The bill must be set at the proper angle, and held by catching the point in the cotton. Do not let the bill point straight out, for it will stretch the skin of the throat too much; neither should it point up at a right angle to the body, for the tip will be catching in everything that comes near it. The best way with most short-billed birds is to let the bill point at an angle of about forty-five degrees to the axis of the body. Beaks that are very long require special arrangement, as shown in Figs. 17 and 18.

Now lift the wrapped-up skin, lay it with the tail toward you, breast uppermost, and with both hands tear the cotton open in a straight line up to the base of the tail (Fig. 15). You can now spread the tail by overlapping the feathers, or leave it closed if you prefer. See that your label is on, adjust the toes and legs carefully, then fold over the edges of the cotton and overlap them, and the skin is done (Fig. 16). Always spread the toes of all swimming-birds.

Another plan is to dispose of each skin in a little cylinder of paper, made to fit, of course. This is the best plan when you are far from the conveniences of home, and in a hurry. The effect of this, however, is to produce a cylindrical skin, which is not a prize shape. Still another way is to make a small cornucopia of stiff paper, and slip the skin into it, head first, after which the large end is closed by bending in the edges.

The old-fashioned, corrugated drying-board is an excellent resource when you are in a great hurry with a number of specimens.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 15.--Spreading the Tail.]

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 16.--The Skin fully Wrapped.]

The ill.u.s.tration on p. 56 (Fig. 17), from one of Mr. Palmer's specimens, shows the shape a small skin should have to be considered perfect.

Freshly made bird skins should never be subjected to crowding or pressure, nor should old skins either, for that matter. If you go far afield, and expect to collect hundreds of skins, you should go provided with a light and strong chest, either made to open at one side and contain a series of shallow drawers to receive skins, or else, which is the next best thing, and very easily made, a box containing a series of shallow tills of varying depth, standing one upon another from bottom to top. Each drawer or till should be made just deep enough to hold skins of a certain size, but no more, or else in travelling the skins will tumble about. Remember it is useless to try to make large collections of good skins in the field unless you can take care of your finished specimens. This is for specimens freshly prepared and _not yet dry_. After skins become thoroughly dry, they can be packed "in bulk," in a chest or trunk, by putting the largest at the bottom, and filling the cavities with the small skins which cannot stand so much pressure. Bird skins should always be packed in cotton when they are to be shipped, giving to each a soft, comfortable resting-place, and the box must be filled full, so that there will be no tossing about.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 17.--A Perfect Bird Skin.]

DETERMINATION OF s.e.x IN BIRDS.--To a collector who is working under difficulties this often seems like the very "last straw upon a camel's back;" but it must be attended to in every case wherein the s.e.x of the bird is not clearly and unmistakably indicated by the plumage. If you can, get an experienced ornithologist to show you how to determine the s.e.x in difficult subjects (_e.g._, young birds, or birds midway between two breeding seasons). But there are ways in which we can help ourselves. If you begin with birds during or near the breeding season, you will have plain sailing long enough to become familiar with the subject.

In birds the organs of generation lie close up to the lumbar vertebrae, near the kidneys, in the region called "the small of the back." The best way to reach this region for examination is to make a cut clear across the wall of the abdomen, break the back over at the last pair of ribs, and the intestines will at once fall down, exposing the lumbar region. You will then see the kidneys--two large, dark-brown ma.s.ses situated in the concavity of the sacrum--and on their surface, at the upper end, lie the reproductive organs. The t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es of the male are two dull, whitish, ellipsoidal, or nearly round bodies, of the same size, lying close together. The sign for this s.e.x is the astronomical sign for the planet Mars [Male].

The ovary of the female is, except during the breeding season, the most difficult to distinguish. Look first for a little bunch of minute round globules, of varying sizes and grayish white color. In the breeding season the eggs are easily found. Failing in that, you must look for the ovary itself, which, when found, will be recognized as a little, irregular, flattish bunch of a light gray color. If you search with a magnifying-gla.s.s, you may be able to detect it by its peculiar granulated appearance. The sign for the female is the sign for the planet Venus [Female].

FOOTNOTE:

[5] From Steele's Popular Zoology, by permission of the American Book Company.

CHAPTER VII.

COLLECTING SKINS OF LARGE BIRDS.

GENERAL PRINCIPLES INVOLVED IN SKINNING LARGE BIRDS.--In skinning a large bird you must have room according to your strength and the size of your subject. You will need the usual materials in quant.i.ty, plenty of table s.p.a.ce, and a stout hook depending from the ceiling at the end of a stout cord, to hang your half-skinned victim upon at a certain stage of the proceedings.

With but few exceptions, the process in skinning a large bird is, from start to finish, precisely similar in principle to that for a small one, which has already been described. When you get the body about half skinned, and are well started up the back, thrust your hanging hook into the top of the pelvis, and suspend the bird in mid-air, so that you can work with both hands. Be careful, however, throughout the whole operation that you do not allow the weight of the body of the skin to stretch the skin of the neck.

If the head is small enough that the skin of the neck will pa.s.s over it, skin right over it to the base of the beak itself, and proceed in every respect as with small birds. If, however, the skin of the neck will not go over the head, then skin the neck as far toward the head as you possibly can (usually in such cases you can go no farther than the lower end of the axis or second cervical vertebra), and then cut it off.

The next step is to skin the head. Turn the skin right side out, make a clean, straight cut from the top of the head straight down the back of the neck for a sufficient distance to allow the remaining cervical vertebrae to be drawn up through the opening. It is now a very simple matter to skin the head and clean the skull.

The wing of a large bird contains, between the elbow and the so-called "shoulder-joint" (carpus), quite a quant.i.ty of flesh lying underneath and between the radius and ulna. Whatever you do with the wing, _never cut the ends of the secondaries loose from the ulna_. In s.p.a.cing and adjusting those secondaries nature has done something which, to save your life, you cannot do as well, and if you meddle with her work some one will be sorry.

Slit open the skin all along the under side of this long joint of the wing, cut out all the flesh from around the radius and ulna, and poison the interior thoroughly. Put in a little filling of tow or cotton, and sew up the opening. Even in small birds, except the smallest ones, it is an excellent plan to slit open the wing on the under side and put some dry poison on the flesh, without stopping to sew up the cut. Clean out the flesh and the oil sac from the root of the tail, and poison that part so thoroughly that any insect who ever dares to think once of harboring there will instantly drop dead.

A bird like a large heron, with long legs, or an eagle with very thick legs, should always have the tendons removed from the legs in order to facilitate curing, and for the mutual benefit of both specimen and taxidermist when, a little later, the two meet in the laboratory and engage in a hand-to-hand struggle for supremacy. To accomplish this, cut a slit lengthwise in the ball of the foot where its rests upon the ground. Cut off the tendons where they branch and attach to the toes, seize the end of each large tendon with your pliers and pull it forcibly out of the leg. You can do this with a fresh bird in about five minutes, whereas in a dry skin that has been relaxed it will take you much longer. This removes a fine subject for decomposition, and also leaves the s.p.a.ce necessary for the leg wire when the specimen is mounted. After having removed the tendon I always give the legs a coat of rather thin a.r.s.enical soap, both to cure them and protect them from insects. Another excellent plan is to lay all such long legs in a pan of salt-and-alum bath solution for a few hours to thoroughly cure them.

If there is a layer of fat adhering to the skin, it must be sc.r.a.ped off and absorbed with corn meal, and sc.r.a.ped again until it is all off. A layer of fat spoils a skin more quickly and more effectually than any novice can be expected to believe until he sees for himself, in some of his finest ducks and brants, just how it is done. If a skin is worth saving at all, it is worth preserving properly. Grease left on a skin "burns" it.

In making up a skin having a long, slender neck like that of swan, goose, heron, or crane, it is an excellent plan (when possible) to take a stout wire, as long as the entire neck and body, wrap a little tow or cotton rags around it to partly form a false neck, and insert it in the skin. This will often save a neck from being completely broken in two. Fill the body of the skin with excelsior, tow, cotton, or _crumpled paper_, which, in distant jungles, far from civilization, is an excellent thing. In case of need, you may fill with dry leaves, dead gra.s.s, in fact almost anything except wool, hair, or other animal products. Do not fill the body out to more than two-thirds its natural size, unless you have abundant storage-room, and transportation facilities. If filled out full size, large bird skins fill up boxes and drawers wonderfully fast, and generally it is best to flatten such skins a little.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FIG. 18.--How to Shape a Heron Skin.]

Large bird skins should always be sewn up. The head must be properly filled out, and if cut open at the back, that also should have a few st.i.tches, but not too many, for obvious reasons. In laying out a large skin, if the neck be long, bend it around to one side as the specimen lies before you on its back, and lay it on the side of the body along the edge of the wing. If the legs are long, they, too, must be bent up so that the feet lie upon the body. The accompanying figure, from a specimen prepared by Mr. William Palmer, shows just how a great blue heron should be done. The wings must be carefully placed, the plumage dressed and nicely adjusted, and the finished skin pinned up in a wide strip of thin cotton-cloth, or anything else you please, to keep it in perfect shape until it dries.

Of course, a large skin requires plenty of air while it is drying, and several days' time besides. If such specimens are packed and shipped before they are dry, mould and destruction will be their portion, and the collector will do well to flee from the wrath to come. In shipping bird skins in the East Indies and similar climates, it is customary to solder them up, air tight, in tin-lined boxes. Dr. W.J. Holland advises me, however, that dry wooden boxes are good enough if they are tight, and are first painted over on the inside with melted crystals of carbolic acid.

SPECIAL AND EXCEPTIONAL CASES.--Having fully considered the various principles involved in making ordinary bird skins, it is now necessary to note the exceptional cases, and state how each is to be disposed of. It is my desire to equip the beginner, as far as possible, against every emergency that is likely to arise in ornithological collecting. For convenience we will take a few of the avian orders, in their natural sequence, beginning with the lowest.

THE STRUTHIONES: _Ostriches, Emus, and Ca.s.sowaries_.--These great birds are prime favorites with the showmen, and many a fine specimen often falls most unexpectedly into the hands of an astonished "local taxidermist," to the ultimate enrichment of some museum. Happy is he to whom falls a beautiful, glossy, brown-black ca.s.sowary, with head and neck of rich purple, and red and yellow, and what-not--truly a wonderful bird, and not too large. A full grown African ostrich is an avian colossus, and his enormous size makes him quite a serious matter.

With these great birds it is best to open the skin of each leg from the lower end of the tibia all the way down to the foot, in order to entirely remove the tendons. Detach the skin from the bone all the way round, and cure it with a.r.s.enical soap and a _little_ alum. The leg should be cut open on the inside, well back, where the seam will be most out of sight. After having removed a skin, you will need to keep it soft, sometimes for several days, perhaps until you can make a suitable manikin, if it is a large ostrich. Cure the skin with a.r.s.enical soap and salt (protecting the feathers carefully meanwhile), and keep it wrapped up and away from the air until you are ready to put it on the manikin for the last time; then treat it with dry alum to make it dry and harden properly.

ORDER SPHENISCI: _The Penguins_.--The penguin of the Antarctic seas is the king of fat birds, but such magnificent monsters as those brought home by the Challenger, and now in the British Museum, are worth a long trip to secure. Mr. Frederick Pearcy, who collected and preserved the specimens, a.s.sured me that it required two men to carry one, and that the removal of the grease from the skins was a dreadful task. Of the largest specimens, the huge legs and feet were cut off at the lower end of the tibiae, and preserved in alcohol until they could be skinned and cleaned. Since it is probable that only a very few of my readers will ever visit the rainy, foggy, storm-beaten and G.o.d-forsaken land of the penguin, I will leave the question of grease removal to the paragraph relating to the Lamellirostres.

LONGIPENNES: _The Gulls, Albatrosses, etc._--The gulls, terns, and petrels are so beautiful in flight that they are often mounted with the wings fully spread, in flying att.i.tudes. When a bird is to be mounted thus, the large wing-bones must not be broken, but simply disjointed and cut loose from the body at the shoulders. When it is possible to do so, an albatross should be mounted with wings, outspread, to reveal to the student their enormous length, and the disproportionate shortness of the primaries and secondaries. If all the albatrosses in a museum collection are mounted with closed wings, as they nearly always are, the average observer gains not the faintest conception of the form and size of the bird in motion--_its normal condition_.

STEGANOPODES: _The Pelicans_.--The great white pelican is one of the most satisfactory and even agreeable birds to mount that could possibly fall into the hands of an able-bodied taxidermist. If I ever adopt a shield and an a.s.sortment of devices with which to cover it, one of the latter shall be a figure of a huge white pelican rampant; for it was a bird of that species that gave me a start in taxidermy. It happened in this wise:

The year before I penetrated the walls of my Alma Mater, its venerable president sought to find among the students an (alleged) taxidermist, or at least the promise of one. He publicly offered the princely sum of $10 to anyone who could come forward and mount a bird decently. The gauntlet thus recklessly thrown down no one could pick up that year, and by the year following, when I appeared upon the scene, it had grown cold. Like another Lochinvar, I "came late" for that offer. I had seen one bird skinned and mounted, and I knew I could do one like it. That was an old, rusty, second-hand crow. I pet.i.tioned to have a chance to "stuff birds," but it fell on deaf ears. I even went so far as to mount a squirrel, to show what I could do, and although it was a very fair specimen for that benighted period, it failed to win.

But one day some good genius sent a dead bird to the president, for the museum, and with it heaven sent my opportunity. Professor Bessey sent for me and said, "Now, young man, we are going to see how much you know about stuffing birds. We've got a specimen for you to try your hand on, and if you succeed in mounting it decently, you may possibly get an opportunity to work in the museum." I replied, "Show me the victim."

He took me to his room, and there, spread out upon the carpet, lay an enormous white pelican. His body was like a great downy pillow, his bill was as long as a fence-rail, with a great h.o.r.n.y knot atop of it, and his huge yellow pouch would have held a whole school of mackerel, teachers and all. And what wings! They were full-grown angel's size, and as white and spotless as Gabriel's own. It seemed like sacrilege to touch them. And such feet! Enough of them would have covered the college campus. I had never before seen such a bird, even in my dreams. He really was larger than the maximum measurements given by Audubon for that species. Professor Bessey informed me that his name was _Pelica.n.u.s erythrorhynchos_. It was not quite so long as his bill, nor so rough, but it was pretty nearly.

With a pocket-knife, an old misfit pair of pliers, and a smooth, flat piece of steel that had once been a file, I skinned and mounted that bird, "in the highest style of the art," as the taxidermic business card always hath it. I have also faint recollections of a great wad of oak.u.m made into a body, a thimbleful of a.r.s.enic, and a pair of eyes--merely this and nothing more. As I hope to live, I believe I could feed a live pelican as much a.r.s.enic as I put upon that great skin without even giving him the stomach-ache; but the bugs seemed to know that was my first effort, and they have never touched him. I mounted him as the Irishman played the fiddle at Donnybrook fair, neither by note nor by ear, but, "be jabers, by main strength," and posed and shaped him by Audubon's superb plate. He was p.r.o.nounced an unqualified success. I shaped his future, and he shaped mine at the same time. When I saw him again, seven years later, he was every bit as good as new, and I was astonished to find how really good he was. He was the first bird I ever skinned or mounted, and a lucky bird he was for me.

Had he been a dirty, greasy, old swan, think what a sc.r.a.pe I should have been in!