Professor L.L. Dyche has called my attention to the great desirability of

taking a series of measurements of every large bird before it is skinned,

and another series of the skinned body, as a check on possible errors in

making the false body and in mounting. The idea is a good one, and the

following are the measurements that should be taken:

BEFORE SKINNING.--Total length; distance from angle of wing at the carpal

joint to the eye; distance from the end of the closed wing to the tip of

the tail; distance from the base of the middle toe to the carpal joint of

the wing.

MEASUREMENTS OF THE SKINNED CARCASS.--Length of the body; length of the

neck; circumference of the body around the breast; circumference around the

abdomen.

The notes should also state whether the body and the neck are respectively

round or flat.

THE FALSE BODY.--In starting out to make a body for a large bird,

particularly one with a long neck, take a piece of wood about the size of a

large ear of corn, and much the same shape, through one end of which pass

one end of the neck-wire and firmly staple it down. The purpose of this is

to give the firmest attachment possible for the neck. The false body is

then made by firmly winding successive layers or bunches of excelsior or

straw upon this wooden core, and binding each successive layer down with

fine twine from start to finish, so that the finished body shall be firm

enough. If the false body is not made hard enough, the leg-wires can not be

firmly fastened, and the bird will "wabble."

If you have the fleshy body before you, or even the measurements of it, it

will be easy enough to reproduce its form and size. It is desirable to copy

the form of the natural body as closely as possible, which in many cases

necessitates the use of a long needle to sew through and through it, in

reproducing certain hollows and corresponding elevations. Professor Dyche

lays great stress upon this point, and always makes the false body of a

bird with such care and attention to every detail of form that when the

skin is put over it it fits perfectly, the feathers fall into position and

lie properly, no extra filling being necessary anywhere save at the tail;

and, what is more, he considers that it is unnecessary to wind down the

plumage with thread. The most life-like snowy owl I have ever seen is one

which Professor Dyche mounted for me as a practical demonstration of his

method, the virtue of which was thus handsomely proven. The skin was the

same as a fresh one, having been made less than a year, and the excelsior

body was made to fit it without the aid of measurements. As the result of

repeated ocular demonstration, I am convinced that Professor Dyche's method

of making every body with extreme care, as to form and details, is well

worthy of universal adoption.

The necessity of removing the tendons from the legs of all large birds has

already been mentioned. When this has been done, the wiring of the leg is

an easy matter, for the wire will take the place of the tendon so perfectly

that there will be no outward sign of its presence. Use as large leg-wires

as you can without disfiguring the leg of the bird.

When any animal is mounted in a walking attitude, the foot which is

represented in the act of leaving the ground must _always_ have its centre

well elevated, and only the toes touching. This being the case, surely no

intelligent taxidermist will ever be guilty of so unpardonable an offence

against the eye as to run the supporting-iron straight down from the ball

of the foot to the pedestal, with a ghastly section of it exposed to view.

No matter how you manage it, the iron must follow the bones of the foot

until it reaches the toes, and then it can be bent down to a perpendicular

line and passed through the pedestal, _always out of sight_.

[Illustration: PLATE XIII. MOUNTED BIRD, WITH INTERIOR STRUCTURE EXPOSED.]

In all but the largest birds, the leg-wires are fastened in the body in

precisely the same way as described and illustrated in the previous

chapter, except that it requires stouter pliers and more strength to bend

them and clinch them firmly in the body. In inserting the leg-wires in the

artificial body, be sure to enter them about the _middle_ of the body, on

each side, and not near the tail, as nearly all beginners are prone to do.

This is by all odds the commonest and worst fault in mounted birds that

fall short of perfection. It arises from the fact that the beginner makes

the mistake of entering the leg-wires at the same point where the bird's

humerus joins the pelvis, which is too far back by just one-third of the

length of the entire body! The _humerus_ is not represented on your wire

at all, and the wire should enter the body _precisely where the knee-joint

comes in the living bird_. The flesh and bone of the thigh is made up (or

should be, at least) on the artificial body, not on your leg-wire. Lay out

a dead bird in a walking attitude, or study a skeleton (see Fig. 70), and

see where the knee-joint comes; then you will never again be in danger of

spoiling a bird by making its legs come out from under its tail.

In mounting large birds, the sizes of the wires I have used were as

follows: Great horned owl, No. 8 or 9; bald eagle, No. 7 or 8; peacock, No.

7; great blue heron, No. 6; sandhill crane, No. 5.

An ostrich or emu requires a manikin constructed on the same principles as

that built for the tiger, except that each leg-rod should have two iron

squares instead of one. The upper extremity of the leg-rod is clamped

tightly to one square, with two nuts, as usual; but in addition to this

there should be a second square with a hole in its short arm large enough

for the smooth rod to slip through, and this should be screwed to the

body-board as low down as the anatomy of the bird will allow. The object of

this second iron is to prevent the bipedal specimen from swaying and

leaning over, as it would otherwise be very apt to do.

Inasmuch as the legs of an ostrich or emu always require to be cut open and

completely skinned, the manikin method is perfectly adapted to their wants.

If the skin is so shrunken that it requires vigorous stretching, its body

must be stuffed with straw after the neck and legs have been made and

joined to a centre-board, precisely as directed for long-haired mammals

above medium size. I may also remark in this connection that I have seen

both the complete skin and skeleton of a large ostrich preserved and

mounted to stand side by side, but I pitied the operator when he had to

make a full set of bones for the legs and feet, and a wooden skull with the

horny shell of the beak fastened upon it. At one stage of the proceedings

the outlook for the skin seemed anything but promising, and on the whole I

would not advise anyone save an expert to attempt a similar task.

MOUNTING BIRDS WITH WINGS SPREAD.--In the first place, each wing must have

a wire large enough to adequately support it. This should be straight,

bright, well-oiled, and filed sharp at both ends. One end is to be inserted

inside the skin, passed along next to the wing-bones as far as the carpal

joint, from thence it is forced on as far as possible between the skin and

the under surface of the metacarpal bones until it emerges from the

feathers not far from the end of the fleshy portion of the wing. The wing

must be so straight that the wire can be slipped through it freely backward

and forward. It must next be passed through the artificial body at the

point where the upper end of the humerus is attached to the coracoid in the

complete skeleton, and very firmly clinched in the same way as described

for the leg-wires. Then lay the bird upon its back, place the wing exactly

in position, bend the wing-wires so they will fit snugly against the

wing-bones, and tie them firmly down. After that, the middle joint of each

wing is to be poisoned, stuffed with fine tow, and sewn up neatly. Of

course the wings can not be given their correct elevation and pose until

the bird is placed firmly upon its temporary perch, unless it is to be

represented as flying.

Now is the time to properly dispose of the feet. If the talons are to be

grasping any kind of prey, the object must be placed at once, before the

feet begin to dry. If the bird is to be in full flight, they must be drawn

up, clinched, and almost concealed in the feathers. To keep the feathers of

a spread wing in place while the specimen is drying, thrust a long,

sharpened wire into the body under the wing, and another on top, bend both

until they conform to the curve of the wing, twist their outer ends

together, and then slip under each wire a long, narrow strip of pasteboard.

Such a specimen requires constant watching lest something get awry by

accident, and dry so. The winding of a bird with its wings spread, to say

nothing of laying the plumage, is a difficult and delicate matter, and the

chances are that he who takes the greatest pains will produce the best

bird.

[Illustration: FIG. 53.--Cast of the Neck and Windpipe of a Heron.]

MAKING THE NECK OF A HERON.--Ordinarily the anatomy of a bird is well

concealed by its feathers, but to this rule the neck of a heron is a marked

exception. In this remarkable member there is room for the most ambitious

operator to show his skill. The neck is very long, very thin and flat, the

joints of the vertebræ often show very plainly, and the windpipe has a way

of shifting over the sides of the neck in a most free-and-easy way. (See

Fig. 53.) If you wish to mount a bird that will show your skill to the best

advantage, by all means choose a heron, and mount him in a stooping

posture, with his head thrown back, in the act of spearing a fish with his

sharp beak.

One of the artistic triumphs of the New York exhibition of the Society of

American Taxidermists was Mr. F.S. Webster's "Wounded Heron," which was

awarded a specialty medal as being one of the best pieces in the entire

exhibition. It was presented by Mr. Webster to the National Museum, for the

Society's exhibit, and is represented in Plate XVI.

Ordinarily you can make a good neck for a heron by taking two wires of

suitable length, winding fine tow very smoothly and evenly around each one

until it has attained very nearly the required thickness of the neck, then

putting the two together and winding a thin, even layer of fine, soft tow

around both. This doubles the width of the neck, without materially

increasing its thickness. The necks of some herons are so excessively wide

and thin that it requires three tow-wrapped wires wound together thus to

give the necessary width. All this winding should be done quite firmly, and

when finished, if the neck is of the right size, it should be wrapped with

spool cotton from end to end to make it keep its shape. One of the

neck-wires should be thrust through the skull, but the end of the other

should be bent down, and (if the beak is to be closed) passed out of the

throat, into the mouth, one-third of the way to the tip of the beak.

If, however, you wish to produce a prize bird and challenge criticism, then

make a neck which will show the joints of the vertebræ, and show them

plainly and strikingly. Now there may be a dozen different ways in which

that could be done, but the best is to make the neck over a hard skeleton

that will show its joints _willy-nilly_. Your best plan is to clean the

neck vertebræ without disjointing them, tie your neck-wire firmly

underneath them, wrap with fine tow to replace the flesh, bind down with

thread, and cover all at the last moment with clay. The windpipe is easily

reproduced by wrapping fine tow around a small annealed wire, and then

sewing it in its place on the neck. If you have not the cervical vertebræ,

the next best thing is to make them roughly and quickly out of wood, wire

them together, and use as you would the real bones. The reason why this is

necessary to success is that it is very difficult to make a wire bend in

angles instead of curves after it has been wrapped with tow and inserted in

the neck of the bird.

SETTING THE EYES.--On this point I have always been at war with most of my

taxidermic friends. They insist that it is not best to insert the eyes in a

bird as soon as it is finished otherwise, but leave the bird to dry without

them. Afterward, they insert wet cotton, soften the eyelids, and then

insert the clay backing and the eyes. They claim that this is necessary to

prevent the skin from being drawn away from the eye by shrinkage in the

general drying.

I hold that it is best to set the eyes at once, before the bird dries, in

order to secure the greatest degree of elasticity in shaping the eyelids,

and thereby have a more perfect mastery of the situation. But having seen

my friends secure as good results by their method as I do by mine, I

naturally conclude that it is only a matter of personal preference, and

either way is good enough.

CHAPTER XXIV.

CLEANING THE PLUMAGE OF BIRDS.

I shall never forget how vainly I sought, when a lonesome and isolated

amateur, to find somewhere in print some useful information about how to

remove grease, dirt, and blood-stains from the plumage of birds. I remember

well my disgust and anger at the makers of the so-called "complete" manuals

of taxidermy that left me groping in Egyptian darkness on that subject, and

most others also; and I registered a solemn vow that should I ever write on

taxidermy I would do my best to afford some practical information on

cleaning the plumage of birds.

As has been previously stated, the time to clean the plumage of a bird is

while you are making up the fresh skin (Chapter VI.), before the skin has

been laid away to dry, before the blood dries and imparts a _permanent_

stain (to white feathers, at least), and before the oil has had a chance to

ooze out into the feathers to gather dirt, and presently form a nasty,

yellow oil-cake upon the skin. In cleaning the skin of a fat or oily bird,

scrape all the grease from the inside of the skin, and absorb it with corn

meal or plaster Paris. Scrape the skin until it looks as if the feathers

are about to fall out, until no more oil is raised, and then you may call

it clean. When you have done this, you need not fear that any oil will ever

exude upon the feathers.

FRESH SPECIMENS.--If a freshly killed bird has blood upon its plumage,

separate the bloody feathers from the others, lift them on your fingers,

and with warm water and a sponge gently sponge them off. Give the blood a

little time to soften, and when the feathers are as clean as you can get

them with water, wipe them as dry as you can, then sponge them over with

clear spirits of turpentine or benzine, and absorb this with plaster Paris.

The manner of managing plaster Paris will be described in detail in another

paragraph.

Very often the plumage of a freshly killed swan, gull, or duck, becomes so

covered with dirt, blood, and grease by the time it reaches the taxidermist

that it is a sight to behold. Never mind if it is, you can make it as good

as new, in every respect, so far as cleanliness is concerned. The thing to

do is to skin the bird, and clean the skin before either mounting it or

making it up as a skin. The cleaning is often made easier, however, by

hastily filling the loose skin with excelsior or tow, to give a firm

foundation to work upon when cleaning the plumage.

If you have no turpentine, as will probably happen to you many a time when

you least expect it, take some warm water, as warm as you can bear your

hand in, rub some castile soap in it, and with a sponge, or a soft cotton

cloth, wash the soiled feathers. Do not scrub them as you would a greasy

floor, and utterly destroy the perfect set of the feathers, but sponge

them with the grain, as far as possible, treating them as a compact layer.

Now, _if you have turpentine_, wipe the feathers as dry as you can, and

give them a sponging with that, for they will come out better from the

plaster Paris than otherwise. When the plaster is put upon feathers that

are wet with water, it acts too quickly in its drying, and the feathers are

often dried before they have had time to become fluffy as in life. But if

you have no turpentine, you must finish without it. Whichever liquid you

use, at the finish fill the feathers full of plaster Paris, and almost

immediately lift the bird and beat it gently to knock out the saturated

plaster. That done, put on more plaster, filling the feathers full of it

down to their very roots, and presently whip that out also. By the time you

have made the third application, the feathers are almost dry, and the

plaster falls out almost dry also. Now is your time to whip the feathers

with a supple switch, or a light filler of stiff wire, to make each

bedraggled feather fluff up at the base of its shaft, and spread its web

for all it is worth. This treatment is also vitally necessary to knock the

plaster out of the plumage. Work the feathers with your long forceps,

lifting them up a bunch at a time and letting them fall back into place. By

this time the plaster flies out in a cloud of white dust, and the whipping

of the feathers must be kept up without intermission until the plaster is

_all out_. If any plaster remains in the feathers, you may count with

certainty that it will always be sifting out upon the pedestal, and, what

is even worse, if the plumage is black, or dark-colored, it will impart to

it a gray and dusty appearance.

_Caution._--Remember that if you leave the first application of plaster, or

even the second, too long in the feathers it will "set" or harden there,

and make you wish you were dead before you get it out.

DRY SKINS.--The hardest subjects to deal with are old, dry skins. While

fresh, fat is merely so much clean oil smeared on the feathers. An old, dry

duck, goose, swan, penguin, auk, or albatross skin is liable to have the

feathers of the breast and abdomen all caked together in a solid mass of

rancid, yellow grease, to which time has added a quantity of museum dirt.

In mounting one of the charming specimens of this too numerous class, it is

not always safe to clean the feathers before inserting the body. There is

danger that the skin will go to pieces. For this, and other reasons, the

skin should be scraped clean inside, poisoned, furnished with a body, and

sewn up before you attempt to clean the feathers.

When feathers are badly caked with old, dry grease, it is an excellent plan

to apply a jet of steam to the afflicted region, which quickly warms and

moistens the grease, and allows the turpentine to cut it in less than half

the time it would otherwise require. There is nothing that starts dry

grease as quickly as a little well-directed steam; but steam is a powerful

shrinking agency, and it must be used with judgment.

Usually an old skin is so dirty that it requires to be "plastered" all

over. If you have no steam, attack the greasy portions first with warm

water (but no soap), to warm up the grease and soften it. Time and patience

are both necessary. Next, wipe off the water, and with a wad of cotton

cloth, tow, or cotton batting, dip from your dish of turpentine, and apply

it as a wash upon the feathers, always rubbing with the grain, of course.

When, after repeated applications, you see that the turpentine has

dissolved the grease to quite an extent, go rapidly over the remainder of

the bird, then lay it down upon a sheet of heavy paper, upon its back, and

cover it completely with plaster Paris. It takes two or three quarts to do

this usually, and for a swan it requires a pailful.

As soon as the plaster has had time to absorb the greasy turpentine, which

it does in about a minute, lift the bird from its burial-place, and holding

it head upward hit it several sharp blows with a light stick to knock the

plaster out of the feathers. Devote from three to five minutes to this,

then examine the feathers and see whether they are perfectly clean. Most

likely they are not, if it is a case of old grease, and a repetition of the

dose is necessary. Start again with your wash of turpentine and do

precisely as before (_without_ the use of any water). If this does not

bring the feathers out clean and white from roots to tips, then give it a

third going over, with unabated vigor and thoroughness. The third time is

usually "the charm," even with the worst cases. This time the plaster must

be thoroughly beaten out of the feathers, even if takes you an hour to

accomplish it.

All this is rather disagreeable work. Of course you will put on old clothes

and get out doors to windward of your bird while beating it, so that the

plaster will fly off upon some other fellow. Soft feathers may be handled

more carelessly than the stiffer sorts. Of course great care must be taken

to not separate the web of the tail and wing feathers, nor to break the

shafts of even the small ones. Beware getting any of the body feathers

twisted during this operation, or they will not lie down where they belong.

Benzine can be used instead of turpentine in cleaning plumage, but it is

too volatile, and evaporates too quickly to render the best service.

It is practically useless to attempt to remove clotted blood from the

feathers of old dry skins. Even if by persistent effort the blood itself is

removed, it leaves a lasting stain upon the feathers, and they are also

permanently awry. The universal custom with taxidermists in such case is to

obey the (paraphrased) scriptural injunction--if a feather offend thee,

pluck it out. If this course leaves a vacancy in the plumage, steal a

perfect feather from some suitable portion of the bird's body, and glue it

fast in the place of the missing one. Fortunately, however, collectors have

about ceased to make up skins to dry with blood upon them, and there is not

much trouble to apprehend hereafter from that source.

CHAPTER XXV.

MOUNTING REPTILES.

OPHIDIA: _The Serpents._--There are several methods of mounting snakes, but

only one that I can recommend. Such processes as ramming a rubber-like

snake skin full of sawdust, or cotton, or tow, are to be mentioned only to

be condemned. In my opinion, the only proper way to mount a serpent is to

make a manikin of tow, carefully wound on a wire and afterward shaped with

thread, and cover it with clay at the finish. It is necessary to attach

small wires to the body-wire at given intervals, so that they can be passed

down through the pedestal, and afford a means by which a finished specimen

may be drawn down and made to lie naturally.

A manikin for a large snake, like an anaconda or python, is best made of

excelsior, and its exact form secured by sewing through it with a needle.

In the field notes printed in Chapter III. something may be learned of the

form of the python.

If a snake is "stuffed," it stretches the scales apart most unnaturally,

and never looks like life. For this reason, the clay-covered manikin is

necessary, in order that any excess of skin may be modeled down upon it,

and the scales be made to form an unbroken covering.

LACERTILIA: _The Lizards._--With the exception of the iguana, the gila

monster, mastigure, and a few others, the lizards are so small and slender,

and have tails so tapering out into thin air that they are altogether too

small to be mounted by the ordinary methods of taxidermy. The finest method

ever devised for the preservation and display of small reptiles and

batrachians is that adopted by the Museum of Comparative Zoology,

Cambridge, Mass. Each specimen is preserved in clear spirits in a jar by

itself, and instead of being dropped in head first to sink or swim, and tie

itself into a bow-knot if it can, the reptile is placed (in the flesh) on a

thin, rectangular slab of plaster Paris or cement, of the tint best suited

to the display of the specimen. The object is placed in a life-like

attitude and held in place by threads which pass through holes in the slab

and tie the feet down securely. The accompanying illustration (Fig. 54),

drawn from a specimen, and the following description, both of which have

been kindly furnished me by Mr. Samuel Garman, Curator of Reptiles, Museum

of Comparative Zoology, will enable any intelligent preparator to adopt

this admirable method:

"It was in 1875 we began to mount the reptiles and batrachians of the

Museum of Comparative Zoology on tablets, in alcohol. Before that date they

had been stuffed and dried, a method which proved rather unsatisfactory,

especially so in regard to color, and the shrivelling of digits and tails.

However varied at first, the appearance soon became uniform and dusty.

Mounting in the alcohol does away with the most serious objections; we can

give the specimens life-like attitudes, or arrange them in groups as if

playing, courting, or fighting; and the liquid heightens their beauty, as

the water does that of the pebble at the seashore, while ravages of insects

are entirely out of the question.

[Illustration: FIG. 54.--Method of Mounting Alcoholic Reptiles at the

Museum of Comparative Zoology.]

"The tablets are made of plaster Paris, or if a harder one with finer

finish is desired, of cement mixed with water and spread on a glass plate

to set. Holes are bored through them wherever necessary to fasten the

specimen, which is simply tied on. With the tints used in fresco painting

they are colored to suit. Experiments now under way convince me there is

less fading on plates of certain colors than on the white ones. For black

tablets, common slate is good. A mixture of plaster and cement makes a fine

quality."

The larger lizards are generally so round and plump-bodied they may very

properly be mounted with tow and clay legs, and a body-filling of clean and

soft chopped tow, the same as small mammals. If one is encountered which

has a high, sharp, spinal crest, which cannot be reproduced with loose

filling, then it is necessary to make the legs and tail, wire all together,

and make an excelsior manikin in two halves, so that each side may be

inserted in the body independently, and then the two may be sewed together

and covered with clay as necessary.

At Professor Ward's celebrated establishment I once saw Mr. Webster remove

the entire skeleton from a _Hatteria punctata_, a rare New Zealand lizard

about sixteen inches in length, replace the leg bones and skull with wooden

counterfeits, and successfully mount the skin. This was quite a feat, and

was the only instance of the kind that ever came to my knowledge. The chief

difficulty lay in removing the skull from the skin, which grew tightly upon

it, and in successfully replacing it with a wooden imitation.

CROCODILIA: _The Crocodiles and Alligators._--These great

saurians--thick-hided, case-hardened, and always fat--require no carefully

made manikins, no clay save in the small ones, nor very gentle treatment of

any kind, unless the specimens happen to be young and tender. Small

crocodilians should be mounted in the same way as the larger lizards, using

clay next to the skin of the body and tail. I once achieved success with a

tiny alligator, and delighted its bereaved owner, by filling it with clay

on a core of excelsior, and modeling the form into perfect shape.

Large saurians should be mounted on the same general plan as wolves and

small bears, viz., by cutting the leg-irons long, passing the inner ends

through a rather small centre board, bending them down to the wood, and

fastening with staples. Of course the leg-irons must fasten underneath the

pedestal by means of nuts. The legs are made of tow, and so is the tail,

which must have in its centre a stout iron rod, cut about four inches

shorter than the end of the tail to allow for shrinkage. At two or three

points equidistant from the end of the tail, and from each other, fasten a

stout wire to the tail rod, so that when the specimen is finished these

wires can be passed down through holes bored in the pedestal, and used to

draw the tail down tightly and hold it there. If this is forgotten the tail

will spring up in spite of you, and show daylight underneath, which never

happens with the tail of a living saurian.

As to attitude, one or two hints will suffice. A live saurian, either

crawling or at rest, nearly always carries his legs well up to his body. Do

not spread his legs far out, but bend them up rather close to the animal's

body, as if he expected to use them to walk with. The body should always

rest down upon the ground. Give the tail two or three curves sidewise to

relieve its stiffness. The head should be held well up, but the elevation

should be given by the neck alone, with the head itself in a horizontal

position, turned a trifle to the right or left to avoid extreme stiffness

in the attitude.

When your large alligator has been put together, suspend it from the

ceiling, bottom upward, and stuff the thick part of the tail, the body, and

the neck with straw. Begin at the end of the tail, and fill and sew up

until the head is reached. It is necessary to use stout and very sharp

glover's needles of large size in sewing through the horny-hide of an old

saurian, and the thread should be the best of linen twine, doubled and

waxed until it is in the best possible condition for holding. Sometimes a

skin is so horny it is necessary to pierce holes for the needle with an

awl. The shrinking power of a big saurian is something fearful to behold,

therefore prepare your seams accordingly.

The centre-board of the body should be placed low enough that two

screw-bolts, six inches long, may be put through the pedestal from

underneath, and screwed into the board to bring the body of the animal down

upon the pedestal as closely as possible, and also to hold it more

securely. Of course, each leg-iron must pass downward through the foot, and

fasten with a nut underneath the pedestal.

The tongue of a saurian is not free, but the skin may be removed from its

upper surface, the flesh replaced with clay, and the skin sewed down again.

The color of the tongue and roof of the mouth of a saurian is pale yellow,

a little lighter than Naples yellow, but never pink. In young specimens the

inside of the mouth is white.

Bear in mind this fact, that the eye of an alligator or crocodile is of a

dark greenish color, and the pupil is vertical.

The thin serrated scales, which form the crest of the tail, must be clamped

firmly between thick pieces of card-board while they are drying, so that

they will retain their proper shape and erectness, for otherwise they will

curl up and become very unsightly.

After a saurian has dried properly, and has been "machéd," it should be

varnished all over with a coat of white varnish and turpentine, to bring

out the colors.

If the teeth of an alligator need to be cleaned and whitened, brush them

with muriatic acid, washing it off again almost immediately with plenty of

clear water.

CHELONIA: _The Turtles._--This group embraces the sea-turtles, having the

fore limbs developed as long, flat, triangular flippers, with large head,

small under shell, and with head and flippers non-retractile,--the

terrapins, soft-shelled turtles, and tortoises. Of the large, sea-going

species, our ocean waters produce the huge leather-back or harp-turtle, the

loggerhead, next in size, the green turtle and the hawksbill, which last

yields the valuable tortoise-shell of commerce. To the taxidermist, a fresh

hawksbill to be mounted is a thing of beauty and a joy forever; the smooth

and succulent green turtle is also a welcome guest; the big loggerhead is a

serious affair, and the huge, lumbering, greasy 800-pound leather-back is a

first class calamity. Shun him, unless there is plenty of money behind him.

I once had the misfortune to be chief mourner over a leather-back which

pulled down 940 pounds dead weight--mostly oil.

"We conquered, but Bozzaris fell,"

vowing that neither gold nor glory (neither of which is yielded by

_Sphargis coriacea_) should ever again tempt us to "strike oil" in that

manner. The soft and gelatinous shell of that monster dripped clear oil for

three months, and actually yielded several gallons.

[Illustration: PLATE XIV. MOUNTING AN ALLIGATOR.--LAST STAGE.]

Fig. 19 shows the underside of a turtle, and the dotted line indicates

where the cut has been made in the skin near the posterior edge of the

plastron, where the shell bridge that unites the upper with the under shell

has been sawn through with a small saw. The process of skinning such a

subject has been already described, and the process of mounting is to be

carried out on precisely the same general principles as described and

illustrated in the mounting of mammals with long hair, with but slight

variations.

After the legs and neck have been made with tow, the tow wrapping should be

covered with a quarter of an inch of soft clay, so the skin can afterward

be modeled down upon it, either smoothly or wrinkled, as in life. The body

should be stuffed with straw to keep the shell from collapsing while

drying. The divided portions of the shell must then be joined and wired

together firmly with soft brass wires passed through small holes, as shown

in the figure. Of course, the cuts in the skin must be sewn up neatly but

firmly.

When the specimen has been placed on its pedestal, it then remains to shape

the legs, neck, and feet, which the soft clay underneath renders quite

easy. Folds and wrinkles in the skin must be exaggerated, to provide for

what is sure to disappear by shrinkage in drying.

CHAPTER XXVI.

MOUNTING FISHES.

GENERAL OBSERVATIONS.--Judging from specimens generally, it would seem that

taxidermists, the world over, either do not know how to mount fish

specimens with the same degree of excellence as mammals and birds, or else

they are universally slighted by intention. Certain it is, that in nearly

every large zoological museum the stuffed fishes are the least attractive,

and the least like life of all the vertebrates. In many instances the

reptiles are not far behind in unsightliness, although as a rule they are a

little more life-like than the fishes. In only one natural history museum

out of twenty-seven have I found a collection of stuffed fishes which

surpassed in number and quality of specimens the collection of birds and

mammals, and formed the most attractive feature of the entire museum. That

fish collection is to be seen in the Government Museum at Madras, India.

The specimens were all mounted while fresh from the ocean, which, of

course, has been a great advantage to the taxidermist. I was somewhat

surprised to learn that the taxidermist in question was an Indian native,

named P. Anthony Pillay, because East Indian natives are, almost without

exception, very indifferent taxidermists.

None of the specimens are mounted on standards, but either lie flat in

table cases, or, if too large for that, hang against the wall. The common

scaly fishes always lie upon one side, usually the right, with tail curved

upward.

Mr. Pillay assured me that the exquisite smoothness of his specimens was

due to the use of silk cotton as a filling material, plucked from the pod

and cleaned by hand. His scale fishes and sharks were very life-like, but

his rays and ray-like _Rhinobati_ were somewhat faulty. Being filled with

fibrous material, they lacked that extreme flatness so characteristic of

fishes of this type.

Numerous methods for the preparation of fishes have been devised. In the

collection in the National Museum made by the Society of American

Taxidermists there is a series of six specimens, representing five

different methods, mostly bad. One is a fish carved in wood and painted;

another is a flimsy paper cast of Dutch extraction; a third is a painted

plaster cast; the fourth is a half fish, or fish medallion, and the fifth

is an entire stuffed fish. It is necessary to add, however, that the

last-mentioned specimen falls far short of properly representing its

class--the most common of all in museums. In disposing of this subject it

is not my purpose to waste time in the discussion of obsolete and valueless

methods, but to describe only those of practical utility.

MOUNTING SMALL AND MEDIUM-SIZED FISHES WITH SCALES.--The process of

skinning a fish has been described in a previous chapter, and on this

subject but few other points remain to be noticed. These are the

following:

From some fishes the scales fall off so very easily while they are being

skinned and mounted, it is necessary to wipe the specimen dry, and before

starting to remove the skin, paste a piece of thin but tough writing-paper

over the whole fish excepting the fins, and let it dry before proceeding

further. With a pen, line out the course of the opening cut, and make a

mark across it here and there to guide you in joining the edges again after

mounting. This paper covering will fully protect the scales from

displacement, and it is to remain on until the mounting is completed, when

its removal is easily accomplished with water and a sponge.

On the great majority of scaled fishes, however, the scales are

sufficiently persistent that the above is unnecessary. But keep the fish

wet while you are at work upon it, and handle it with care and delicacy. If

you let the scales get dry, their edges begin at once to curl up, which

must not be permitted.

It is generally of great advantage to allow the skin of a fish to lie over

night in spirits (two parts of ninety-five per cent alcohol to one of

water) for the sake of curing and toughening the integument, and curing

whatever particles of flesh may chance to remain in the skull.

After having removed the skin, it must be cleaned most carefully. With a

keen-bladed knife, pare and scrape off all the adherent flesh from the

skin, cut out the gills, and remove the flesh from the interior of the

skull, and the base of the fins. Of course the eyes must come out also.

With a stout pair of scissors trim off the projecting bases of the rays of

the dorsal and anal fins, so that the fin itself may set squarely upon the

top of the centre-board.

I will now describe, step by step, the entire process of mounting a fish by

what I consider the simplest, easiest, and most practical method known. Be

advised in the beginning, however, that you can not mount fishes on nice

brass standards with nothing at all in the way of special materials and

tools. You must have an assortment of hard brass wire, Nos. 3 to 10, a

hack-saw, some brass rosettes, a small die for cutting threads on brass

wire, and taps of corresponding sizes for cutting threads in the brass

nuts and rosettes. The outfit is by no means expensive, but it is

indispensable if you wish to mount your specimens on standards, and thus

have them show off to the finest advantage.

1. Procure a piece of soft wood, pine preferred, and with the skinned body

of the fish before you, whittle the wood down to the general shape of the

body, but one-fourth smaller in actual size. In Plate IV. the outline _a_,

_b_, _c_ represents the wooden centre-board, which is really the foundation

upon which the mounted specimen is to be constructed.

2. Prepare two small brass standards (_e_, _e_), and screw the upper end of

each firmly into a gimlet-hole bored into the centre-board at _d_, _d_. At

the lower end of each standard the thread should be cut for a little more

than an inch of its length, and a turned brass rosette screwed on, to rest

on top of the pedestal, and hold the rod from slipping down through the

hole. Underneath the pedestal a square nut is screwed on tightly. These

rods should be exactly perpendicular, and the axis of the fish (an

imaginary line running lengthwise through the centre of the bulk), should

be as nearly as possible horizontal. A fish mounted with its tail too high

in the air seems to be taking a header, and when the reverse is the case,

it suggests a ship sinking stern foremost.

3. Having thoroughly cleaned the inside of the skin, anoint it liberally

with arsenical soap, or if you have not that, with a plentiful sprinkling

of powdered arsenic.

4. For the fourth step--filling--I shall describe two very different

processes, advising the beginner to make a fair trial of both, and then

adopt the one he succeeds best with.

The filling which I infinitely prefer for a fish is clay and chopped tow,

mixed together, and used as stiff as may be to work well. Clay which is too

soft when used shrinks as the excess of water dries out of it, and is

liable to leave an uneven surface. With a flat modeling-tool, coat the

centre-board evenly with the clay until you have reproduced the form and

size of the fleshy body of the fish. Then put the skin over this, press it

down firmly to exclude all air-bubbles, working it from the back downward.

When you find that the skin fits perfectly and without any drawing or

straining, begin at the tail and sew the skin together, making, as you

proceed, a perfect finish of the specimen. Draw the edges closely together,

and the more perfectly the scales can be made to hide the opening the

better.

The other filling process is to use fine, soft tow, chopped up finely. With

a goodly quantity of tow before you, open the fish skin, and with your

forceps insert a layer of tow all along the back, and also on the side

which lies next to the table. Then put the centre-board in its place, while

the skin still lies before you, and with the forceps distribute an equal

quantity of tow between the upper side of the board and the skin. Thus a

perfect and even cushion of tow is provided to lie between the skin and the

board at all points save below. Begin at the tail, and with your needle and

thread sew up the skin for an inch or two; then with your small forceps or

filler, stuff to the right size and shape the portion that has been sewn

up. That done, sew up another section, and stuff as before, proceeding thus

until the head is reached and the entire fish has been filled and shaped.

Notches must be cut in the skin at the points where the brass rods enter

it.

All this time the fish has been kept wet so that the fins are soft and

elastic, and the scales are perfectly smooth. The fins must now be spread,

and each one enclosed between two bits of pasteboard cut to the right

shape, and held firmly together by sticking pins through them around the

edge of the fin. Do not on any account stick pins _through_ the fins, or

you will afterward have the trouble of filling up the pin-holes. Force the

pins through the two thicknesses of pasteboard with your small pliers, and

whatever may be the shape, or size, or position of a fin, you must so shape

your pasteboard that the fin will be spread, and have the same position it

would on a live fish.

6. The last thing at this stage is to mix together equal quantities of

white varnish and turpentine, sponge off the fish carefully, removing every

particle of clay, tow, or dirt, and varnish it all over. This prevents the

scales from curling up when they dry, and it also goes far toward fixing

the colors of the fish. The fins are to be varnished afterward when they

get dry.

7. While the fish is drying, the eyes should be prepared. Every one knows

that the eyes of different genera of fishes vary in shape, size, and color,

to as great a degree as do the eyes of quadrupeds. For mounted specimens,

one of two things may be done; insert a conventional silver or golden

glass eye, or else keep on hand a lot of uncolored fish eyes, and paint

each pair from nature, in oil colors of course, to suit the particular

specimen it is to adorn. When the paint has had time to dry and harden,

cover it with two or three coats of shellac to protect the colors from any

changes which might be effected by the material in which the eye is to be

set. If the coating of paint is left unprotected, it is very apt to undergo

chemical changes, and the eye may thereby be ruined.

8. The eye may be set in clay or putty _provided none of the setting

material is to be exposed_. If the glass eye is smaller than the opening,

which is very often the case, set it in fine papier-maché, which must be

nicely modeled around the glass, and afterward coated with shellac, and

painted.

10. The subject of painting fishes will be considered in a separate

chapter.

Simple as it may appear, and really is, the above processes may be applied

with slight modifications to even the largest scale fishes, and to the

sharks and saw-fishes. Such large subjects as the jewfish require strong

iron rods for standards, and the skin may either be mounted over a manikin,

made of excelsior tied down upon a central beam, or it may be stuffed with

soft straw, which, considering the great thickness of the skin and scales,

is quite satisfactory.

MOUNTING FISH MEDALLIONS.--A fish with but one side mounted and exhibited

may be called a fish medallion. It may lie flat in a table-case, or be

screwed to the back of an upright case, or it may even be set up on

standards fastened to it at the back. As a specimen, either to prepare or

exhibit, it has its advantages, and I will briefly describe my process.

FIG. 55.--Medallion of Yellow Pike.

FIG. 56.--Cross-Section.

We will suppose that our fish is a fresh subject, or an entire specimen

from alcohol. The first thing is to procure a pine board of proper

thickness, lay the fish flat upon it, and with a pencil mark out its

outline. Although only one side of the fish is to show, it is desirable to

mount a little more than precisely one-half of it. Therefore, select the

side to be displayed, and remove the skin from the other to within a short

distance of the median line of the back and abdomen. This extra margin of

skin is to give the skin an appearance of entirety and rotundity, rather

than flatness such as would be the case if an exact half were represented.

The head of the fish must be sawn through with a fine saw, and, of course,

the observance of the directions already given will leave the dorsal and

anal fins on the portion to be exhibited.

Having carefully skinned, cleaned, and preserved the portion to be

exhibited, the centre-board is cut out with a short bevel on the inside,

and on the other the full shape of one side of the fish. When this fits the

skin properly, the right quantity of clay is put upon it, the skin is then

put on, and fastened at the back according to circumstances. With a small

fish, the edges of the skin may be sewn together from top to bottom, across

the exposed surface of the centre board, but with large specimens it is

best to nail the edges to the board.

MOUNTING CARTILAGINOUS FISHES: _Sharks, rays, saw-fish, etc._--The only

failures I have ever made during my thirteen years of taxidermic work have

been with subjects of this class. I call them failures because, after

taking infinite pains and mounting my specimens to the complete

satisfaction of all concerned, the best ones, the very ones I had

considered most perfect when finished, for two or three years afterward

continued to shrink and shrink, until the skin burst open, and the tail and

fins warped out of shape by the same process until it was maddening to look

upon them.

I once spent a week of diligent labor in mounting over a clay-covered

excelsior manikin the skin of a ten-and-a-half foot gray shark (_Hexanchus

griseus_), which came to me in the flesh. It was a beautiful specimen, and

I mounted it according to elaborate measurements, and a cast of the head.

The result was all that could be desired. Three years later that shark was

a sight to behold. Around the body, just back of the gill openings, the

skin had burst open in a crack an inch wide. The tail had been ripped open

by the terrible strain of shrinkage, so had the seam underneath the belly,

and at first the damage seemed beyond repair. We did repair it, however,

very fairly, but to me the specimen has ever since been an eyesore.

By the bitterest of experiences I have learned that a shark, ray, or

saw-fish is bound to keep shrinking and shrinking, in both length and

circumference, from the day it is finished to the crack of doom. The fins

and tail _will_ warp and twist out of shape, and I defy any man to prevent

it. Since finding it impossible to mount a fish of this class

substantially, and have it retain its original size, I have adopted a plan

which allows shrinkage. The rod which supports the tail is fastened to the

centre-board by two staples so loosely that when the strain of shrinkage

comes upon it, it will gradually slip through the staples and allow the

specimen to shorten instead of bursting.

It is best not to mount a shark too well. Stuff it with soft straw instead

of making a firm manikin, and do not fill the body any harder than is

necessary to secure smoothness. As the specimen gets old, and its

circumference grows smaller by degrees, and beautifully (?) less, the mass

of straw will also shrink to accommodate the lawless tendencies of the

skin.

I have successively tried the effect of curing skins of sharks in brine, in

alcohol, and in the salt-and-alum bath, but the result is always the same.

It is easy enough to mount them to perfection, but to make them remain _as

mounted_ for five years is beyond my powers.

The rays are the meanest of all subjects that vex the soul of the

taxidermist. Shun them as you would the small-pox or the devil. Such

abominable animated pancakes, with razor edges that taper out to infinite

nothingness, were never made to be mounted by any process known to mortal

man. To mount the skin of a vile ray, and make it really perfect and

life-like is to invite infinite shrinkage, rips, tears, warps, defeat, and

humiliation at the hands of your envious rivals. If you must mount a ray,

by all means get square with it at the start. Stuff his miserable old skin

with tow or straw, the more the better. Ram him, cram him "full to the very

jaws," like the famous rattlesnake skin that taxidermist Miles Standish

stuffed "with powder and bullets." If you can burst him wide open from head

to tail, by all means do so, and you may call me your slave for the rest of

my life. Make him nice and round, like a balloon, and then no matter what

he does afterward to mortify and disgrace you, and to drag your fair

standard in the dust, you will always have the satisfaction of knowing you

are square with him.

Once when I was young and innocent, I encountered an enormous ray. He was

not thrust upon me, for I achieved him--and my own ruin also, at one fell

stroke. I mounted him willingly, nay, eagerly, as Phæton mounted his

chariot, to show the rest of the world how all rays should be done. I

mounted his vast, expansive skin over a clay-covered manikin that had

edges like a Damascus razor, and I made him flat. He was flat enough to

navigate the Platte River at low water, which even a thick shingle can not

do. He was life-like, and likewise was a great triumph. But almost the

moment my back was turned upon him forever, he went back on me. I had put

him up to stay put, so far as my part was concerned, so he just got mad and

literally tore himself to tatters. He became almost a total wreck, and to

make my defeat a more genuine and unmitigated crusher, Professor Ward sent

word to me, all the way to Washington, that he would sell me that large ray

for $5. I never forgave him for that.

The best way to mount a ray is to make a nice plaster cast of it, paint it,

and then bury the accursed ray in a compost heap. As a class these fishes

are remarkable, and highly interesting, and there is a far greater variety

of them than anyone who is not an ichthyologist might suppose. To me there

is no other group of fishes more interesting, and, I may add, there is no

other group that is, as a general thing, so poorly represented in museum

collections. They exhibit all possible intermediate forms between the

ordinary shark and the perfectly round, flat ray. The intermediate forms,

_Rhynobatii_ and _Rhamphobatis_, are naturally the most interesting.

[Illustration: PLATE XV. AMERICAN LOBSTER.--SHOWING LOCATION OF WIRES.]

CHAPTER XXVII.

MOUNTING LOBSTERS AND CRABS.

The following directions were written from the mounting of a large lobster,

but apply equally to all crustaceans large enough to be stuffed.

1. Remove the shell of the back (carapax) in one piece, by cutting under

its lower edges, and with steel bone-scrapers clean out all the flesh from

the body and tail.

2. Take a long, stiff wire (about No. 10 for a lobster), flatten it out at

one end, and bend up a quarter of an inch of it, to form a scraper with a

sharp chisel edge. Insert this in the legs (or "walking feet"), one by one,

and clean out all the flesh they contain, quite to their tips. With a

strong syringe inject water into each leg to thoroughly wash out the

inside.

3. Take off the "movable claw" from the "big pincer," also make a hole in

the joint at A (Plate XV.), and through these two openings remove all the

flesh from the large claws, and syringe them out.

4. Having thoroughly cleaned the specimen, either soak it in some liquid

poison, such as arsenic water (the easiest to prepare--by dissolving

arsenic in boiling water), or a corrosive sublimate solution, or else

poison it by injecting diluted arsenical soap into the legs, claws, and

body with a syringe.

5. Insert in each leg and claw a soft wire of zinc, galvanized iron, or

brass, and bend the end in the body at very nearly a right angle (B-B). In

large specimens the wire should be wrapped smoothly with a little tow, so

that the claws will not be loose upon it.

6. Insert a wire in each feeler as far up as possible, and let the lower

end extend well down into the body. To hold the specimen on its pedestal,

take another wire, as long as the entire specimen from head to tail, pass

one end of it down through the centre of the body, bend the wire down at a

right angle, and in the same manner pass the other end down through the

middle abdominal segment. The ends are to pass through the pedestal and be

clinched below.

7. The claws need not be stuffed.

8. When all the various members have been wired, bend all the inner ends

of the wires down in the body, and pour in a lot of plaster Paris, which,

as soon as it hardens will hold all the wires in place.

9. Stuff the cavity of the abdominal segments with tow, put what filling is

necessary into the thorax, then put the shell back in its place and glue it

fast all around the edges.

10. Replace the movable claws, and with glue and cotton fasten them firmly

where they belong.

11. Put a wire around the end of each claw to hold it down, or, what is

better still, wire it down from the under side in such a way that the wire

will not be visible.

12. When the specimen is dry and its colors have partly faded out, procure

a fresh specimen of the same species, and with your oil colors paint the

shell carefully and artistically from your model. Learn to _blend_ the

colors together as nature does in such objects, softening all the lines.

When the paint is dry, if the specimen has a dead, opaque appearance, give

its surface both lustre and transparency by applying a thin coat of white

varnish and turpentine.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

ORNAMENTAL TAXIDERMY.

Until within a very few years, the taxidermist produced but little purely

ornamental work, and the most of that little was rather crude and

unattractive. Now, however, decorative pieces are produced in bewildering

variety, and many of them are justly regarded as works of art. The

productions of the Society of American Taxidermists are now to be seen in

thousands of the finest homes in the United States, and in art galleries,

both public and private. In all the exhibitions of the Society, the

display of "Articles for Ornament or Use" has always been the most

attractive feature, and the one which has elicted from visitors the most

surprise, admiration, and hard cash. The beautiful exhibits made by Messrs.

F.S. Webster and F.A. Lucas, of Washington; Thomas W. Fraine and W.J.

Critchley, of Rochester, N.Y.; Mr. and Mrs. George H. Hedley, of Medina,

N.Y.; Mr. John Wallace, of New York; David Bruce, of Brockport, N.Y.; and

Messrs. F.T. Jencks, and Aldrich & Capen, of Boston, will certainly never

be forgotten by those who saw them.

It is impossible to describe here the precise methods by which the various

kinds of decorative objects may be produced, and surely in the light of all

the methods and details that have already been given, it is unnecessary. It

will be sufficient to describe by word and picture the character of the

various classes of objects, and leave their production to be worked out

according to the principles already laid down. The accompanying plate

represents a carefully selected group of decorative objects which were

displayed in the New York exhibition of the Society of American

Taxidermists, and were afterward presented by their respective owners to

the National Museum at Washington, where they are now displayed in the

Society's exhibit.

WALL CASES.--The shallow box case with glass front, sheltering one specimen

or a group, and garnished with certain accessories, is one of the most

popular and pleasing of all pieces of decorative taxidermy. Its evolution

is due directly to the desire to protect from destruction the more

cherished of the single specimens that first began to grace the homes of

the lovers of animated nature. In American homes there are to-day thousands

of pretty wall-cases of choice birds mounted with suitable accessories,

either natural or artificial, many with painted backgrounds, and an equal

number without. There are also hundreds of cases of small mammals mounted

in the same way.

_Artificial Leaves._--The accessories most available are grasses and ferns

carefully pressed, dried, and painted green, and set in the foundation

work. Natural moss is used in the same way, and for bushes with foliage,

artificial leaves are easily procured and wired on to the twigs of the

branch that has been selected for use. These can be procured of any

first-class dealer in taxidermists' supplies, or at large artificial

flower establishments. If leaves of some special kind are desired, or

leaves in great quantity, it will be best to procure them direct of C.

Pelletier, 135 Wooster Street, New York City, who has supplied me for eight

years. The cost of leaves varies from 25 cents to $2.00 per gross; and for

some kinds even more.

_Water and Ice._--To represent water, use a sheet of clear glass, and build

up underneath it a bottom of sand, or gravel, or weeds, as may be

necessary. Ice is easily counterfeited by coating a sheet of glass or wood

with paraffin, which is quite white, and sufficiently transparent to give

the proper effect. Icicles are manufactured by Demuth Brothers, 89 Walker

Street, New York, especially for taxidermists, at very moderate prices, and

are infinitely better than anything the taxidermist can produce. They are

fastened to the sides of snow-covered rocks, or wherever they belong, by

setting them at the base in stiff papier-maché with sinew glue.

_Snow_ is made by flowing plaster Paris over the surface to be covered, and

dressing its surface at once; and then, before it becomes quite hard,

sprinkling its surface with painter's frosting, which is exceedingly thin

flakes of clear glass, and must be ground up in a mortar to get it fine

enough to use. If ground too finely, it becomes a dull white powder, like

marble dust, and is useless. In order to give a glistening appearance to

the surface the particles must be large enough to reflect light. Mica is of

no use for this purpose. In making the snow that covers the ground

underneath the group of musk ox in the National Museum, Mr. Joseph Palmer

invented a compound composed of the pulp of white blotting-paper, starch,

and plaster Paris, which made a white, fluffy-looking mass that could be

sprinkled over the ground by hand, and closely resembles a light fall of

snow.

For the preparation of boughs of evergreens for use in groups, so that the

needles will not fall off the twigs, Mr. Jenness Richardson, taxidermist to

the American Museum of Natural History, in New York, has, by long and

patient experimenting, evolved a solution in which he actually effects the

complete preservation of coniferous foliage. When the branches to be used

have been put through this liquid and dried, they are afterward painted,

and are really as perfect as when living on the parent stem. Mr. Richardson

has kindly put me in possession of the knowledge of his entire process, but

I am not at liberty to publish it at present.

_Painted Backgrounds._--The beauty of a wall-case, or indeed of any group

in a flat case, is greatly enhanced by the addition of a painted background

of the proper character to represent the home surroundings of the living

creatures in front of it. Of course the back must seem to be a harmonious

continuation of the bottom, where the real objects are. The tints of the

picture should be very quiet, and by no means gaudy or striking, and should

not attract attention away from the zoological specimens. The objects to be

gained in a painted background are distance, airiness, and, above all, a

knowledge of the country inhabited by the bird or mammal. As an example of

the value of a painted background in the production of a pleasing effect,

the reader is respectfully referred to a group the writer produced nine

years ago, entitled "Coming to the Point," and now in the National Museum

(see Fig. 1, Plate XVI.). It is not boasting to say that that simple group,

composed of a white setter dog, six partridges, a bush full of

autumn-tinted leaves, and a really handsome painted background (by Mary

E.W. Jeffrey) has given more pleasure than anything else the writer ever

produced. The case is only ten inches deep, but the apparent distance is

about a mile, and the autumn scene is very acceptable to the public,

sportsmen especially.

As yet the museums will have no painted backgrounds. Ten years ago they

would have no groups, and no birds with painted legs and beaks. They have

all come to the two latter, and they will all come to painted backgrounds

also, in due time, and it will be a good thing for them when they do. If I

am ever at the head of a museum, it shall have groups with painted

backgrounds galore, and there will be imitators thereof in plenty. There is

in this direction a vast field which has hardly been touched, and when it

is once developed the world will be the gainer. Museum managers the world

over are too conservative by half. Some of them will get out of the ruts

they are in by following others; some will not get out until they are

dragged out, and a few others will never get out at all.

Twenty-five years hence the zoological museums of this country will be as

attractive and pleasing as the picture galleries, and they will teach ten

times as many object-lessons as they do now. To-day the average museum is

as lifeless as a dictionary; but the museum of the future will be life

itself.

In Plate XVI. are shown three other examples of wall-cases, of different

kinds. Fig. 10 is a group of humming-birds, with choice accessories,

under a hemispherical glass shade, surrounded by a black velvet mat, and

set in a rich gold frame. This exceedingly artistic arrangement is

designed either to stand on an easel or hang on the wall, and is the

work of Mr. and Mrs. George H. Hedley. No. 11 represents a group of gray

squirrels in a rustic case made of papier-maché, with glass front, top,

and sides, and natural accessories, the work of Mr. Joseph Palmer, of

the National Museum. No. 12 represents a group of south southerly ducks

at the edge of a marsh, in a square case with closed back, and painted

background. This was prepared by Mr. William Palmer. In Fig. 57 appears

a representation of a very pretty wall-case, by Mr. F.A. Lucas. This was

one of a series of four companion cases representing the four

seasons, and it is only the very unscientific who need to be informed

that the blue-birds building their nest are meant to represent "Spring."

EXPLANATION OF PLATE XVI.

CONTRIBUTIONS OF ORNAMENTAL TAXIDERMY FROM THE NEW YORK EXHIBITION OF THE

SOCIETY OF AMERICAN TAXIDERMISTS TO THE U.S. NATIONAL MUSEUM.

Fig.

1. "Coming to the Point" By W.T. Hornaday.

Special Medal at Third Exhibition of S.A.

T.; also medal at Cincinnati Exposition,

1884.

2. "An Interrupted Dinner" By Frederic A. Lucas.

Diploma of Honor at First Exhibition.

3. Head of Caribou By W.J. Critchley.

(Presented by Professor Henry A. Ward.)

4. Peacock Screen By Thos. W. Fraine.

5. "Wounded Heron" By F.S. Webster.

Second Specialty Medal, Third Exhibition,

S.A.T.

6. Dead Gull By Edwin A. Capen.

7. Frightened Owl By John Wallace.

Special Medal, Third Exhibition.

8. Bald Eagle By John Wallace.

9. Fox Squirrel By P.W. Aldrich.

10. Humming-Bird Group By Mr. and Mrs.

Geo. H. Hedley.

11. Group of Gray Squirrels By Joseph Palmer.

12. Group of Ducks By William Palmer.

13. Grotesque Group of Frogs By J.F.D. Bailly.

14. Frogs Skating By J.F.D. Bailly.

15. Snowy Heron By Thomas Rowland.

16. Portrait of Jules Verreaux By J.F.D. Bailly.

[Illustration: PLATE XVI. ORNAMENTAL]

[Illustration: TAXIDERMY.]

TABLE GROUPS.--Very fine specimens are often furnished with cases having

glass on all sides, including the top, permitting inspection from all

points. Of course every group of this kind requires a small table for its

base. The most striking table group I have ever seen is one that was

prepared by Mr. F.A. Lucas, entitled "An Interrupted Dinner," and

represented by Fig. 2, Plate XVI. A red-tailed hawk has just killed a

ruffed grouse, and has scarcely begun his meal when a goshawk swoops down

upon him with outstretched talons to seize the quarry. The hawk has turned

upon his back, shielding his prey with one wing, and with beak and talons

"at full cock" is ready to receive his assailant, who hovers in mid-air

immediately above him. The goshawk is supported on an invisible brass

standard, which enters his body by way of the tail, and the illusion is

perfect.

[Illustration: FIG. 57.--Wall-case of Birds, by Frederic A. Lucas.]

Mr. Frederic S. Webster has in his Washington studio a table-case single

specimen which is in every sense a masterpiece. It is very nearly a

replica, but with a heron of a larger species, of his prize piece, "The

Wounded Heron," represented in Plate XVI., Fig. 5. A snowy heron lies on

its back (on a black velvet panel), its breast pierced by a gilt arrow,

which the wounded bird has seized with its right foot, and is endeavoring

to withdraw. The subject is a difficult one, and its treatment in every

detail is masterly.

DEAD-GAME PANELS.--Game birds of all kinds--particularly the handsomest

ducks, geese, grouse, woodcock, and snipe--made to represent bunches of

dead game, are very popular as dining-room ornaments, and during the last

ten years the taxidermists of this country have produced thousands of them,

many of great beauty. In regard to their proper make-up I will offer a few

suggestions.

While the bird is yet warm, or at least relaxed, hang it up by one leg,

pose it carefully, and mark out its outline on paper. See that the bird

hangs like a _dead_ bird, and not like a stuffed bird. In mounting the

skin, make the body flat rather than round, and have the eyes

_three-quarters closed_. The majority of "dead-game" birds are mounted with

their eyes wide open. Birds close their eyes when dying.

The "Dead Gull," shown in Plate XVI., Fig. 5, which is the work of Mr.

E.A. Capen, of Boston, author of "Oology of New England," may be taken as a

perfect model of its kind. In every line it is a _dead_ bird, one that has

been killed with small shot in a sportsman-like manner, and has fallen dead

without a feather awry.

FIRE-SCREENS.--Probably no handsomer fire-screens were ever produced by a

taxidermist than those of Mr. Thomas W. Fraine. The specimen presented by

him to the National Museum is represented in Plate XVI., Fig. 4. It is made

of the mounted head and neck of a peacock, set against a background of the

ocellated tail feathers, of which the magnificent metallic feather shield

from the bird's back forms the centre. The framework is a very thin board

of tough but light wood, the back of which is covered with satin or raw

silk, and the whole is supported on an elegant gilt tripod standard. The

effect of this arrangement as a whole is truly superb, and it is no wonder

that Mr. Fraine's peacock screens have been very popular.

The wings of the roseate spoonbill, the scarlet ibis, pelican, egret, great

blue heron, and many other birds, are often made into fire-screens, either

with or without the mounted head and neck. Of these the two first mentioned

are the most beautiful, especially the roseate spoonbill.

There is one form of screen produced in the west against which I protest.

An entire bird is mounted standing on a perch-standard, its wings are

spread full stretch, and drawn upward, regardless of the laws of anatomy,

until the front edges meet and touch on a perpendicular line above the

bird's back. Such an arrangement of wings for a bird that is otherwise

_naturally_ mounted is painful to look upon, to say the least. The bird

seems to be undergoing torture, and the general effect is not pretty.

BIRD MEDALLIONS.--In 1880 Mr. F.S. Webster's genius evolved one of the most

beautiful designs in ornamental taxidermy ever produced, viz., the bird

medallion. The idea of mounting one-half of a bird was not of itself a new

one, but Mr. Webster's development of that suggestion was entirely new and

novel. Instead of mounting one side of a bird with the rotundity that an

actual half of a fully mounted bird should possess, he studiously flattened

the subject, carefully preserving all the while a perfect uniformity in

proportions, and in each case produced the proportions of an ordinary

medallion. Of course both legs appeared on the specimen, and every specimen

so mounted was the finest of its kind, and faultless in form and finish.

The first specimen of this sort may be described as a type of all the rest.

The subject chosen was a snowy heron (_Ardea caudidissima_) of extra fine

quality. In the centre of a massive and very deep gold and velvet frame,

with a glass across its top, against a background of black velvet of the

heaviest and finest quality stood the snow-white bird, in relief,--a

genuine medallion. The exquisite plumes of the head, breast, and back lay

against the rich black cloth like threads of spun glass. The head was

raised, and the beak slightly elevated in a very life-like attitude; the

body rested on one leg, which stood on a little gilt log, modeled in

papier-maché, and the other foot was held up near the breast in an attitude

characteristic of the herons. The effect as a whole was charming. There was

nothing gaudy, nor cheap, nor hard in the arrangement, and the idea was a

great success. The receiving-frame used by Mr. Webster was also his own

design, called forth by the necessity of fully protecting the work.

Other birds that became popular subjects for treatment in this way were the

wood duck, scarlet ibis, white ibis, roseate spoonbill, English pheasant,

and resplendent trogon. Of course the color and quality of the material

used as a background was varied to suit the colors of each subject, but of

all the materials tried, plush proved to be most acceptable.

HEADS.--This subject has been fully discussed in another chapter. An

additional example, showing a particularly fine head of a barren ground

caribou, on a shield of a very artistic pattern, is to be seen in Plate

XVI., Fig. 3, the original of which was mounted by Mr. William J.

Critchley, and presented to the Society, for its exhibit in the National

Museum, by Professor Henry A. Ward.

SINGLE SPECIMENS.--Eagles, owls, hawks, ravens, crows, herons, ducks,

grouse, and other game birds in general, mounted singly, on either plain

or fancy pedestals, make very interesting and proper ornaments for the tops

of book-cases, wall-brackets, easels, and the like. Good examples of

objects of this class are represented in Plate XVI. as follows: Fig. 8,

Bald Eagle; Fig. 7, "Frightened Owl," by Mr. John Wallace, of New York

City; Fig. 15, Snowy Egret, by Mr. Thomas Rowland; and No. 9, Gray

Squirrel, by Mr. P.W. Aldrich, of Boston.

GROTESQUE GROUPS.--No one who has ever visited one of the exhibitions of

the S.A.T. is likely to forget the exceedingly droll and mirth-provoking

groups of stuffed frogs, caricaturing poor humanity, produced by Mr. J.F.D.

Bailly, now of Montreal, Canada. As a humorist and satirist our old friend

Bailly has few equals, and, in conjunction with his fine mechanical skill,

his love of the ridiculous took permanent form in groups of frogs. The frog

seems to have been created for the especial purpose of enabling Monsieur

Bailly to caricature mankind. The results must be seen to be appreciated.

We have had groups of frogs duelling, playing billiards, making love,

getting drunk, smoking, dancing, fishing, gaming, electioneering, and what

not. For frogs, however, there is only one taxidermist, for I have never

seen anyone else, either French or American, who could even rival our old

friend. He skinned every frog through its mouth, without breaking the skin,

turned it wrong side out, wired it, made its legs of cotton, turned it

back, filled its body with cotton, set it up in position, varnished it all

over, and fitted it out with miniature furniture to suit the subject.

Mr. Bailly used to cut similar taxidermic capers with squirrels, and

Messrs. Critchley, Lucas, and others have produced some very amusing

grotesque pieces with cats and kittens. In Plate XVI., Fig. 15, is shown

(indistinctly) one of Mr. Bailly's frog groups, entitled "Sold Again." A

fisherman is in the act of pulling out a big fish, which the attending

small boy reaches out to take in with a dip-net, when the fish turns out to

be only an old shoe.

FUR RUGS WITH MOUNTED HEADS.--Before a raw pelt or skin can be made up as a

rug, it must be sent to a first-class tanner, and thoroughly tanned and

dressed. This process should make the skin clean, soft, and pliable. If the

head is to be mounted, that part should _not_ be tanned, nor put through

any process. After the skin has been properly tanned, relax the head, and

mount it in such a manner that the head will lie as flat as possible upon

the floor. When the skull is present, it is customary to mount tiger,

leopard, and bear rugs with the mouth open, snarling. Some prefer to have a

head mounted with the lower jaw entirely off, and only the upper half of

the head filled out. This makes of the head what is known as a "mask."

Every rug requires to have an inner lining of buckram to give it body and

stiffness sufficient to keep it spread out flat. Underneath that must come

the lining proper, of quilted felt of suitable color, which is generally

left projecting an inch or two beyond the skin all around. This projecting

edge is pinked with a pinking iron, to make it more ornamental.

The finest work on rugs, particularly the finer kinds, such as lion, tiger,

leopard, and bear, is done by Mr. F.S. Webster, of Washington, who has

developed this line of work most handsomely and systematically, and who

does an immense amount of it. Elsewhere in this book appears full

directions for the preservation of skins for sale as pelts for furriers'

use.

HOW TO MAKE IMITATION ROCKS.--In making a rockwork pedestal, the first

thing is to build your foundation, of wood if it be very large, of wood

covered with very stiff and strong paper, if it be small. In the latter

case there must be a wooden skeleton to which the paper may be tacked.

Having tacked the paper on in large sheets, and duly crumpled it to get the

proper form of the rocky mass, give the paper a coat of thick glue. When

dry it will be quite stiff and strong. Now apply papier-maché of a coarse

quality, and model its surface to show the proper angles or lines of

stratification. Procure some granite or sandstone, or whatever rock you

choose to imitate, pound it up as finely as necessary, and after giving the

surface of the papier-maché a coat of thick glue, apply your rock material

by throwing it against the surface to be covered, so that the particles

indent the surface and stick fast. In this way the whole surface can be

completely covered, and when it is done with the actual material, no

painting is necessary. The possibilities and variations in this line are

infinite, and so much depends upon circumstances it is unprofitable to go

further into details.

Very pretty single pieces, or small masses of rock, may be made by using

peat, or coke, or cork, either in large pieces or smaller pieces glued

together, and covering the surface with fine sand mixed with various dry

colors, and adding colored lichens in spots here and there.

Cloth is poor stuff to use in making rockwork. It draws in straight lines,

and in smooth, plain surfaces. It generally shows up the wooden framework

to perfection. Use manila paper instead, by all means, and take great pains

in shaping your wooden foundation. Always avoid straight lines and plain

surfaces.

CHAPTER XXIX.

GROUPS AND GROUPING.

The rapidity with which the art of taxidermy has won its way to public

favor in the United States during the last two decades is certainly very

gratifying. Less than twenty years ago a great naturalist declared that a

skin stuffed is a skin spoiled. Even ten years ago the only specimens

permitted in museums were those that were mounted singly, in stereotyped

attitudes, on polished pedestals of hard wood.

Between the years 1860 and 1876 a few of the more ambitious taxidermists of

Europe produced various groups of mammals, large and small. Of these, one

of the most noteworthy was the "Lion and Tiger Struggle," by Edwin Ward, of

London, and another was Jules Verreaux's "Arab Courier attacked by Lions."

The most of these groups represented animals in theatrical attitudes,

usually fighting. While they were of much interest for certain purposes,

they were of but little value to persons desiring to study typical forms of

the species which were represented. It would have been quite as appropriate

to place the "Dying Gladiator" or "The Laocoon" in an ethnological museum,

as it would have been to place such groups as the "Lion and Tiger Struggle"

of Edwin Ward, or Rowland Ward's "Combat of Red Deer," in a collection of

mounted mammals in a scientific museum. Up to the year 1879 no large groups

of mammals had been prepared in this country which were considered

appropriate for scientific display collections. Furthermore, the production

of groups of mammals or birds suitable for scientific museums was generally

considered an impossibility.

In 1879 the writer returned from a collecting trip to the East Indies,

having in mind numerous designs for groups of mammals, both large and

small. It was believed then that many of these would not only be suitable

for scientific museums, but would also be far more attractive and

instructive than ordinary specimens. A design for a group of orang utans

was prepared and submitted to Professor Henry A. Ward, with whom the writer

was then associated, at his Natural History Establishment, with a

proposition to prepare such a group as was there represented. After

considerable hesitation Professor Ward finally decided to let the

experiment be tried, and the group was prepared according to the design.

I do not deny the soft impeachment that in one respect this design was

highly suggestive of the methods adopted by my European rivals to secure

attention to their work, or, in other words, it was a trifle sensational.

The group in question represented a pair of immense and hideously ugly male

orang utans fighting furiously while they hung suspended in the tree-tops.

The father of an interesting family was evidently being assailed by a rival

for the affection of the female orang utan, who, with a small infant

clinging to her breast, had hastily quitted her nest of green branches, and

was seeking taller timber. The nest which she had just quitted was an

accurate representation of the nest constructed by this great ape.

In the middle of the group, and at the highest point, was another nest in

the top of a sapling, on the edge of which another interesting young orang

utan--a production evidently of the previous year, was gazing down with

wide-eyed wonder at the fracas going on below. The accessories to this were

so designed and arranged as to represent an actual section of the top of a

Bornean forest, at a height of about thirty feet from the ground,

representing the natural trees, with leaves, orchids, pepper-vines, moss,

and vegetation galore. For such a subject an unusual amount of care was

bestowed on the accessories. Although the design of this group included the

theatrical feature of a combat between animals, there was method in this

madness. This feature was introduced for the specific purpose of attracting

attention to the group and inviting discussion.

[Illustration: PLATE XVII. Reproduced from "Two Years in the Jungle."

A FIGHT IN THE TREE-TOPS.

(PART OF THE GROUP IN THE NATIONAL MUSEUM, MOUNTED BY THE AUTHOR.)]

The remainder of the group was of such a character that it seemed no

scientific observer could find fault with its naturalness. All the various

members of the group were represented in natural attitudes (the result of

elaborate life-studies in the Bornean jungles), and each one told its own

story of the orang utan's life and habits (Plate XVII.)

It is not too much to say that the group caught the popular fancy. It was

completed in September, 1879, just in time to be sent to Saratoga, for

exhibition before the meeting of the American Association for the

Advancement of Science, ostensibly for the purpose of illustrating a paper

by the author on "The Species of Bornean Orangs." Naturally it attracted

considerable attention, and it seemed to meet the approval of the members

of the Association, particularly the museum directors and superintendents,

who were especially interested in such work.

Although it may be the reverse of modest in me to say so, I cannot help

believing that the production of that group marked the beginning of an era

in the progress of museum taxidermy in the United States. The price placed

upon this group ($2,000) prevented its immediate sale; but in a short time

another group of orang utans, similar in composition but of a very

different design, was ordered by Mr. Robert Colgate, of New York, for the

American Museum of Natural History, and prepared by the writer at Professor

Ward's establishment. This group represented the orang at home--a perfectly

peaceful scene in the top of a Bornean forest. It included five orang

utans, of various sizes and ages, feeding on durions, sleeping in a nest,

climbing, sitting, and swinging. This group was also very well received by

the public. As in the case of the first production, the accessories were

all carefully worked out. The price paid for this group was $1,500.

In the year 1880, when the Society of American Taxidermists was organized

in Rochester, N.Y., for the development of the art of taxidermy, the

museum-group idea was much discussed by its founders at Ward's Natural

Science Establishment. Mr. Frederic S. Webster determined to make a further

test of public sentiment by the production of a large group of birds,

designed especially for a place in some scientific museum. With most

praiseworthy enterprise he accordingly prepared, at his own expense, and

with great care and skill, a group of three flamingoes of the largest size.

Two of the birds were represented as standing at the edge of a shallow

lagoon, and the third was sitting on its nest of mud. The water of the

lagoon was successfully represented, as also were certain aquatic plants by

artificial productions of the finest kinds. At the first exhibition of the

Society, which was held in Rochester, in 1880, this group, and also the

first group of orang utans, "A Battle in the Tree-tops," was exhibited. To

the group of orang utans was awarded the specialty medal, offered "for the

best piece in the entire exhibition;" but to the surprise of everyone, save

the judges themselves, and to the consternation and chagrin of the founders

of the Society, the group of flamingoes was entirely ignored, and the medal

offered for the second best piece in the entire exhibition was awarded to

a solitary wood-duck, mounted by Mr. Webster, and figured herewith (Fig.

58).

[Illustration: FIG. 58.--Mr. Webster's Prize Wood-Duck.]

The failure of the flamingo group to receive any recognition caused deep

disappointment to all those who had watched its production with so much

interest and hopeful anticipation. It had been fondly hoped that it might

prove to be the predecessor of a long series of bird groups of the most

varied and interesting character.

The judges of this exhibition were men of high scientific attainments, and

their honesty of purpose in making their awards could not be questioned for

a moment. On being mildly taken to task for their failure to appreciate the

group of flamingoes, the judges maintained that such groups were not

suitable for scientific museums, as was the evident intention in its

preparation. Arguments to the contrary were of no avail, and the believers

in such groups were obliged for the time being to hang their harps on the

willows. It is a pleasure to record the fact that, although the time had

not then arrived, subsequent events have proved that the idea of the

group-makers was a good one; and, although the production of groups did not

come to pass precisely as was then anticipated, time has wrought its

perfect work, and groups are now the order of the day.

In 1882 the writer was appointed chief taxidermist of the National Museum.

In the year following, the first group of orang utans, "The Fight in the

Tree-tops," was purchased of Professor Ward by that institution, and after

being partly reconstructed was placed on exhibition in the Hall of Mammals,

where it now is. Since it left his establishment, Professor Ward has been

pleased to call it "the king of groups."

The group idea was frequently advanced by the writer to the directors of

the National Museum, but the time for its practical adoption on a liberal

scale did not arrive until 1886. It is true that in 1884 Professor Goode

had six groups of ducks prepared by Mr. Webster, and six bird groups of the

same size prepared by Mr. Marshall at the Museum; but with the completion

of these the mounting of bird groups there came to an end. The condition

of the regular exhibition series of mounted mammals demanded several years'

uninterrupted work before any attention could be devoted to such

exceptional work as the preparation of groups either large or small.

Finally, in the year 1886, the auspicious moment arrived. The collecting by

the writer of a very large series of specimens of the American bison

resulted in his receiving permission to prepare a large mounted group after

his own design. To his intense gratification he was given _carte blanche_

as to time and expense, and no limit was placed on the size of the group,

the character or extent of the accessories, or the cost of the case to

contain all. The experiment was to be regarded as a crucial test of the

group idea as adapted to the purposes of scientific museums.

While the group of buffaloes was still in course of preparation, the writer

prepared, as a "feeler," a very simple group, consisting of three coyotes,

a large male and female and one young specimen. The attitudes and grouping

was simplicity itself, and the ground was nothing but gravelly sod, bearing

a few stunted bunches of bad-lands grass. In order that familiarity might

not breed contempt, this group was kept carefully secluded from the

observation of the Assistant Director until it was finished and in its case

in the mammal hall of the museum. Its character was about as follows: A

young specimen--a puppy about four weeks old--was playfully endeavoring to

pull the jawbone of an antelope out of its mother's mouth. Standing a

trifle behind these two stood the father of the family, a really noble

specimen of the species, if by any stretch of the imagination a coyote--the

king of sneaks--can be considered noble. His head was held high in the air,

and he was undoubtedly looking afar off, as if watching for the coming of

the man with a gun. (See Plate XVIII.)

This little group was heartily approved, and the question of groups in the

National Museum was settled forever before the production of the buffalo

group was fully accomplished. The idea as a whole was pronounced not only

satisfactory, but exceedingly desirable, and orders were given that groups

of all the more important American mammals should be designed and produced

as rapidly as practicable. Work was immediately commenced on several other

groups, and by the time the group of buffaloes was completed and ready

for exhibition, which occurred in March, 1888, three other groups were

ready to be displayed at the same time, viz., of antelopes, prairie-dogs,

and opossums.

The reception accorded the group of buffaloes settled all doubt that might

have previously existed regarding the estimation in which such productions

would be held by the public. At present the only trouble which the

taxidermic department of the National Museum labors under is that it is

unable to produce groups of mammals half fast enough. In March, 1890, a

large group of moose, of the same dimensions as the group of buffaloes, was

completed, and a group of musk oxen was completed a month later. Many other

groups are in course of preparation.

[Illustration: PLATE XVIII.

GROUP OF COYOTES. MOUNTED BY THE AUTHOR.]

By a curious coincidence, within three years from the time the Society of

American Taxidermists found its first group of birds so frowned upon by

museum officers, the British Museum undertook the preparation of a large

series of mounted groups of birds, with accessories both natural and

manufactured. Precisely in line with our idea, these groups were intended

to show the birds in their haunts, and, as far as possible, to show their

nesting habits. Naturally enough they were produced with the care which

such subjects merit, and the results are truly admirable. When some of

these groups were seen by the enterprising and far-sighted President of the

Board of Trustees of the American Museum of Natural History, Mr. Morris K.

Jesup, he immediately determined to have a series of bird groups prepared

for the great institution he has for many years so ably directed. He

engaged Mr. Jenness Richardson, then in the taxidermic department of the

National Museum, and the work was begun in 1886. Mr. Richardson never saw

any of the bird groups of the British Museum, and the work he has produced

is as much his own as though the British Museum collection had never

existed. Going as he did from the National Museum, the group idea was by no

means new to him, and the seventy beautiful groups he has since produced

stand as a lasting monument to his skill as a taxidermist, his artistic

conception in designing, and his energy as a collector. No other feature in

the entire Museum of Natural History at New York is so attractive and

pleasing to the general public as are the groups of mounted birds.

CHAPTER XXX.

GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF GROUP-MAKING.

There are several vital principles which apply to all kinds of groups, both

large and small, and we must consider these before proceeding to discuss

the different kinds of groups.

SPECIMENS.--The specimens selected to compose a group should by all means

be the finest procurable. It is a mistake to go to the trouble and expense

of mounting a number of specimens in a group unless each object is entirely

satisfactory in quality. If the group is to represent a family, let the

old male and female specimens be of the largest size, and with the finest

possible pelage or plumage, as the case may be. Do not begin the mounting

of a group until you have in hand a series of specimens that is entirely

satisfactory. Let them be so fine that their quality will be remarked by

all observers. It will then be a pleasure to lavish work upon them. Even if

you should mount a specimen and afterward discover that it is inferior,

discard it by all means in favor of a better one. A large group of either

mammals or birds represents a very considerable outlay in money and time,

and unless the quality of the specimens is above criticism, the group is by

no means a success. I have found that it is a work of from one to two

years' time to procure the specimens necessary for a complete group of

large mammals of any kind.

The best of all ways to procure specimens for groups is to go into the

field, find them in their haunts, study them alive, study their habitat and

their habits; shoot, measure, and preserve them with your own hands. If you

are unable to do this yourself, then it must be done for you by some

competent person, under your direction. In procuring young animals, which

are very necessary in nearly all groups for scientific purposes, the

greatest vigilance is required to enable the collector to secure the

specimens just when they reach the right age and size.

DESIGN.--When you have determined to prepare a group of a certain species,

study the character and size of the subjects to compose it, and then begin

by sketching, to the best of your ability, a design in which each specimen

shall have its place and attitude. In the preparation of large groups, I

have always found the satisfactory arrangement of the specimens the most

puzzling and perplexing feature of the work. But however difficult it may

be to satisfy myself with a design, I never proceed with a group until the

composition of my sketch group is satisfactory. The two largest and finest

specimens in a group should constitute its central and commanding figures.

Put as little life as possible in the corners of a group, and by all means

make the specimens show an interest in, and a relation to, each other. The

design must be dominated by one central idea or purpose, which should never

be lost sight of in the arrangement of the group. It is unnecessary to say

that each group should form a perfect picture, compact, well rounded, and

the relationship of the different specimens to each other should be so

clearly defined as to leave no room for the suggestion that the specimens

have been mounted independently, and simply placed together.

SPACE.--No matter how small or large a group may be, to be perfect in

effect it must have abundant case-room. Let there be some room to spare in

the corners and above the group. The top of the case should by all means be

of glass. An airy, light, out-door effect can not be secured in a small,

cramped cage, in which the specimens appear like caged circus animals. If

you wish to have your specimens look alive, and as if they are really on

their native heath, they must not be "cabin'd, cribb'd, confin'd."

ACCESSORIES.--Although poor accessories are better than none, you will, of

course, have them all as nearly perfect as possible. Spare neither time,

trouble, nor expense in procuring the finest collection of accessories that

you can possibly gather. Do not think you must be satisfied with the first

that comes to hand, but search far and wide until you have obtained

precisely what you want. Do not be too lavish in the use of accessory

material. Remember that enough is as good as a feast, and too much is good

for nothing. There are two principles, either one of which can govern you

in your selection of accessory material. One is to select a given spot of

ground of precisely the same area as the section you propose to use as the

groundwork of your group, and reproduce only such materials as are found on

that particular square of mother earth. This is the idea which has been

strictly followed in the preparation of the groups of birds in the American

Museum of Natural History by Mr. Richardson. I hold to a different

principle. I believe that it is best to select from a given locality such

material as will best represent _an ideal section of the country to be

represented as the habitat of the group_. Of course, it is necessary to

exercise care not to bring together too great an assortment of materials.

By acting on this principle we secure a limited selection of the most

common and familiar species of plants in a given locality, and at the same

time have the advantage of arranging them for the best artistic effect on

the ground which has been prepared to accommodate the group according to

the design. With small groups, in which a nest or burrow is to be

represented, it is an easy and simple matter to reproduce the exact

situation in which the home of the animal was situated. In the preparation

of large groups this is a practicable impossibility.

SPECIAL EXHIBITION GROUPS.--To this class properly belongs such subjects

as Verreaux's "Arab Courier attacked by Lions;" Edwin Ward's "Lion and

Tiger Struggle;" and the two groups, "Lions Fighting" and "Horseman

attacked by Tigers," prepared by John Wallace, of New York. Such groups are

bold in design, theatrical in effect, and each one is supposed to represent

a _tour de force_ on the part of the originator. They are valuable for

great expositions, for show-windows, fairs, crystal palaces, and the like.

For such purposes the more startling they are, the better. Animals are

usually chosen which will admit of a representation of vigorous action. The

most favorite theme is large animals in combat. He who has the boldness to

introduce the human form divine in such a composition will oftener than

otherwise have occasion to wish he hadn't. The human figure is, at best, a

difficult subject to handle, and in its introduction with mounted

quadrupeds the designer often finds, to his sorrow, how very short is the

step from the sublime to the ridiculous. In general I should say that the

human figure is an excellent thing to leave out of a group of mounted

quadrupeds, unless it happens to be an Esquimau completely enveloped in

thick furs. In the preparation of groups of this class, the ambitious

taxidermist has before him almost as great a variety of subjects as has the

sculptor, since his work is subject to precisely the same general rules.

CHAPTER XXXI.

GROUPS OF MAMMALS.

GROUPING SMALL MAMMALS.--Since our small mammals can not migrate south in

winter, as do the birds, each species must provide itself with a winter

home, or perish. The nesting and burrowing habits of these builders of

"homes without hands" afford a most interesting field for investigation and

study, and one which is of great interest to everyone. Almost without

exception, every mammalian species found in the United States below the

size of the coyote, establishes for itself during a part, if not the whole,

of the year, a fixed habitation. Some of the more enterprising species,

notably the squirrels and rabbits, enjoy the luxury of a summer residence

as well as a winter home. The groups of small mammals which the National

Museum is now producing and placing upon exhibition have for one of their

principal features the illustration of the homemaking habits of the species

represented. A mention of one or two examples will serve to convey an idea

of the type of each class.

A group of American opossums may be taken as a good example. The case which

encloses the entire group is 4 feet long, 3 feet wide, and 3 feet high. The

frame of the case is as light as possible, and all four sides and the top

are of glass. On the side of a sloping bank stands the base of a small

gum-tree, with the roots on the lower side exposed by the crumbling away of

the bank. Of course the trunk rises to the top of the case, where it is cut

squarely off. At the bottom of the sloping bank, between two of the roots,

is an opening, which is recognized at once as the doorway to the opossum's

home. The burrow winds upward between the roots of the tree, and finally

turns off to the left into the bank, where, after running through a

passage-way of two or three feet in length, the nest itself is found. It is

in a pocket-like excavation, and a circular section is cut out of the front

of the bank so as to make an opening through which the nest can be seen.

The nest is lined with dead leaves, in which lies an opossum curled up and

sound asleep. At the back of the case a sectional view of the bank is

represented, and by means of an opening cut here and there, the course of

the burrow is plainly seen. In the foreground is an old mother opossum with

several young ones riding on her back, clinging to her gray coat, while the

head of another protrudes from her pouch. This represents the manner in

which the opossum carries her young after they have reached a certain age.

From a small branch hangs another opossum, suspended by its prehensile

tail, sprawling in mid-air. This specimen is a female, and shows the size

and location of the wonderful marsupial pouch. Another individual is

climbing up the trunk of the tree. A fourth specimen, which has been

disturbed by another, is pausing to protest with widely opened mouth,

while in the act of creeping into the mouth of the burrow.

Please notice the number of facts that are taught by this simple little

group. It shows that the opossum is a marsupial, and the female carries her

young in a pouch in her own body; that when the young reach a certain age,

they ride upon the mother's back, clinging to her fur; that the animal is

arboreal in habit, and has a prehensile tail, by which it is capable of

suspending itself; that it burrows in banks in dry situations, and sleeps

curled up like a ball in a bed of dry leaves. It also shows the full size

of the adult, the young of the previous year, and the recent brood. But for

an unfortunate accident, which has yet to be repaired, it would also show

the number born at one birth. Of course in this group the grass and moss is

properly represented, and there are artificial leaves on the tree branches

which enter the group.

Groups of this class can easily be made to show the ordinary nesting and

breeding habits of the animals represented. Now it happens that animals of

some species make a variety of nests, according to circumstances or

caprice. In 1889 we prepared a group in three sections, each of which shows

one of the habits of the gray squirrel in nesting. Each is composed of an

actual nest, and in the identical tree in which it was built by Bunny

himself. One represents a nest in a hollow beech tree, in which a pair of

gray squirrels bred for years. Another is what might be called a summer

nest, made of cedar bark, in the top of a cedar tree. It is a round ball,

and in size and shape much resembles a hornet's nest. The third section

represents an outside nest of green oak-leaves, placed on a branch of an

oak tree. These three groups are exhibited in one case, but while each is

separated from the others by a plate of heavy tinted glass, it is made

apparent that they all illustrate the habits of the same animal. The

specimens composing the three groups were all collected within a radius of

ten miles of the city of Washington. Besides teaching what the nesting

habits of the gray squirrel are, it also impresses upon the observer the

very important fact that the habits of different individuals of a given

species are capable of wide variation. They show how dangerous it is for a

student or scientific investigator to generalize too freely from one or

two facts, and that it is dangerous for anyone to say what an animal will

_not_ do!

In beginning the preparation of small mammal groups (for a museum) the

following hints may be of service: It is not necessary that a small group

should be designed and sketched out in advance. The first step, therefore,

is the finding of a typical family of specimens, and a suitable burrow or

nest. The character of the creature's home will largely determine the

design of your group. By all means endeavor to secure a nest or burrow

which can be fitly shown as a typical home of the creature represented.

When the nest of an animal is situated in a tree, it is nearly always

possible to cut out a section of the tree, and introduce it bodily into

your case, with appropriate leaf settings. When an animal burrows in the

ground, as do the fox and the woodchuck, the best that can be done is to

dig out the spot carefully, taking measurements and diagrams as you

proceed, to show the direction and size of the entrance and the exact shape

and size of the nest. You can then manufacture a bank and reproduce a

perfect fac-simile. Of course all the nest materials--refuse bones, hair,

and feathers--must be taken along bodily, and used in the manufactured

nest.

In displaying a portion of a tree-trunk which contains a nest, it has been

our custom to saw out a rectangular section at one side of the hollow, and

hang the piece on hinges at one side of the opening, like an open door, so

that the entire interior and the situation of the nest can be seen. Of

course it is in order to place a number of the young specimens in the nest

in characteristic attitudes.

When you have collected a number of young specimens, mount them at once

while the forms and attitudes are fresh in your mind and the skins are in

good condition. If you are lucky enough to get the young alive, you can

mount some of the skins while the others serve as living models.

Now comes an important point. It usually happens that at the time when the

young are of the best age to display in a group, the fur of the adult

specimen is at its poorest. Worse than that, shedding is often in progress.

No matter what hypercritics may say, do not hesitate to perpetrate an

anachronism by taking _adult_ specimens later in the season, when their fur

is at its best. It would be an injustice to the group, to the species, and

to yourself, to include adult specimens in their poorest pelage. Along with

your groups of young animals, which necessarily represent conditions during

spring or summer, do not forget to represent some of your species in their

winter homes, with their stores of nuts, acorns, etc., for winter use.

The field open to the conscientious and really artistic taxidermist in the

preparation of groups is a wide and deeply interesting one. I know of no

branch of taxidermy which ought to be more interesting than this. Its

possibilities are open to all. While it is impossible for everyone to

prepare groups of large mammals, in the matter of small groups you can say,

"The world's mine oyster."

GROUPS OF LARGE MAMMALS.--In creating a high-class group of large mammals,

it is, as has been stated before, extremely desirable to prepare the design

first, and collect the specimens to suit it. There is no burrow or nest to

reproduce, and this course is not only possible, but usually very

necessary.

There is one important fact which should never be lost sight of in the

preparation of a design for a group of large quadrupeds. If the animals are

purely terrestrial, as will be the case in nearly all large groups, the

largest and finest adult male and female should each stand on a flat and

horizontal surface, in easy and conventional attitudes. This is necessary

in order that the form, height, and back outline of each of the typical

adult specimens can be studied by the technical zoologist with as much

certainty and accuracy as any ordinary case specimen standing on a flat

pedestal of hard wood. To illustrate the point: If the huge bull bison in

our large group had been put walking up hill, or walking down hill, it

would now be practically impossible for anyone wishing to draw a picture of

him to accurately determine the precise angle of his hump. Furthermore, his

height at the shoulders would be either exaggerated or diminished, almost

unavoidably. As it is, he was with deliberate intention mounted on a flat

and horizontal surface, as was the cow also, so that even though they are

in a group they lose nothing whatever of their value to the technical

zoologist, who demands that all specimens shall be mounted on flat

surfaces, and in conventional attitudes for the sake of comparison. Having

done this much for pure science, we are at liberty to vary the attitudes of

the remaining specimens of the group.

In a museum group suppress all tendency to the development of violent

action on the part of your specimens. In a well-regulated museum no

fighting is allowed. Represent every-day, peaceful, home scenes in the

lives of your animals. Seek not to startle and appal the beholder, but

rather to interest and instruct him. Surely there are enough quiet and

peaceful attitudes to supply all your specimens without exhausting the

stock. Let them be feeding, walking, climbing up, lying down, standing on

the alert, playing with each other, or sleepily ruminating--in fact,

anything but fighting, leaping, and running. If you do not happen to know

the habits of the animals which form the subject of your group, and it is

impossible for you to learn them by observation, then must you throw aside

all reserve, and appeal to some one who has seen and studied them in their

haunts.

It is no child's play to prepare a group of large mammals. It invariably

costs several hundreds of dollars, perhaps even thousands, and the work is

supposed to last a century or longer. Judge, therefore, how important it is

that every detail of the work should be absolutely above criticism. If you

mount such a group in haste, you are certain to repent at leisure.

Having prepared your design, collected your specimens, and made all your

studies for the entire group, the next step, of course, is mounting each

individual specimen. It is an excellent plan, and one which we have found

particularly satisfactory in grouping ruminants, to prepare all the

manikins before putting any skin on permanently. We begin with the most

important specimen. By mounting the manikins one by one, and grouping them,

we are able to secure the precise artistic effect that was intended in our

design. The grouping of the naked manikins from time to time enables you to

eliminate errors, and make such changes in the attitudes as the eye may

suggest.

A few facts in relation to the work done in setting up the buffalo group

will serve as a fair index to work of this kind. Of course it is to be

understood that every case is to have a wooden floor, and that one end can

be opened bodily. Each of our buffaloes stood on a strong, thick base by

itself, a rough pedestal, in fact, of a very substantial character. With

pine boards we built a miniature hill, on which stands the spike bull,

placed him upon it, and fastened him there permanently. The final work of

arrangement was not undertaken until a trial grouping in the case had been

satisfactorily made, and the exact position of each specimen definitely

settled. A hole was cut in the bottom of the case, to give depth to the

pool of water. The bottom of this pool was carefully modeled in

papier-maché, and painted. The specimens standing farthest from the end

containing the doors were first put in place, and the groundwork built up

around them. The face of the cut bank was made by nailing wire cloth to a

skeleton framework of boards, and covering this with a coarse sort of

papier-maché, made of sawdust, plaster Paris, glue, and hair, and used in

large quantities. As fast as a specimen was put in place and fastened, the

rough groundwork of boards was covered with the papier-maché composition to

make a perfectly smooth foundation to receive the prairie sod. From first

to last, between three and four barrels of this coarse papier-maché was

used. It was made to set quickly, and the modeling which was done on the

surface of the cut bank, and in the bed of the stream, was done as soon as

the soft material was put on. The surface of the pool was represented by a

sheet of plate glass, a quarter of an inch thick. The entire groundwork of

the case was covered with genuine prairie sod, each piece about one inch

thick and a foot square, cut on the buffalo range in Montana, and shipped

in barrels to Washington.

When this sod became perfectly dry, it lost all color and had the

appearance of cured hay. In order to give it the right tone, it was

necessary to spray it with a thin mixture of green paint in turpentine, to

impart to it a pale green tint. As soon as the papier-maché was dry, the

sod was cut neatly, matched carefully, and laid upon it--the joints being

skilfully closed. A number of clumps of sage brush and bunches of broom

sedge, grubbed up in Montana and carefully dried, were set here and there

through the group. A bed of cactus was also introduced in the foreground.

The sage brush required no preparation except to pack it carefully, and

dry it after it reached Washington, with the branches in position. The

leaves were of the right color when dry, and remained attached to the

stems. Montana dirt was used in the bottom of the buffalo trail, and on the

side of the cut bank. A few buffalo bones were stuck in the side of the

bank to represent fossil bones as they are often seen protruding from the

faces of cut banks in Montana. While the papier-maché around the edge of

the pool was yet soft, tracks were made in it with genuine buffalo hoofs of

various sizes, and many more tracks were made in the dust in the bottom

of the buffalo trail. Of all the accessories in the buffalo case,

everything in sight came from the Montana buffalo range, except the sheet

of glass forming the surface of the pool.

The last six months of my connection with the National Museum witnessed the

completion of the great group of moose, which we began in 1889. In size and

general make-up it is a companion piece to the group of buffaloes, and is a

memorial worthy of the colossal species it represents. The setting

represents a section of the moose woods of Upper Canada, in which the

larger animals are browsing on the tender twigs of the white birch. The

animals have come together at the edge of a bog, which is growing full of a

gigantic species of grayish moss, peculiar to that locality. The time

represented is the middle of autumn. The few leaves that remain on the

maple saplings have been painted with October's most gorgeous tints of

crimson and yellow, mixed with green, and the leaves of the white birch

have turned pale yellow. The ground is plentifully strewn with leaves of

bright tints, through which the green moss of moist banks shows in patches

here and there.

[Illustration: PLATE XIX. Drawn by C.B. Hudson. GROUP OF AMERICAN BISON IN

THE NATIONAL]

[Illustration: MUSEUM.--COLLECTED AND MOUNTED BY THE AUTHOR.]

Of the animals, the three largest--and huge beasts they are, truly--are

feeding upon the birch twigs. A yearling calf is licking the head of a tiny

brown-coated younger brother, while a two-year-old bull is in the act of

"riding down" a stout birch sapling in order to get at the branches of its

top, which would otherwise be beyond his reach.

Three of these fine specimens were collected by Colonel Cecil Clay, of

Washington, and by him presented to the Museum for this group, together

with the trees, moss, and other accessories, which he collected with

infinite labor and care in the moose woods. He also furnished us with field

notes and critical advice throughout, which had much to do in making the

group what it is--a monument to Colonel Clay's skill and prowess as a

sportsman, and to his deep interest in _Alces malchis_. It is to be

sincerely hoped that other sportsmen will follow the Colonel's admirable

example, and aid the museums in which they are most interested to secure

some attractive groups.

The moose group was followed immediately by the group of musk-oxen, and

there are others of Rocky Mountain goat, mountain sheep, and sea-lions in

course of preparation.

CHAPTER XXXII.

GROUPS OF BIRDS AND REPTILES.

The principles which underlie the production of successful groups of birds

are precisely the same as those which have already been set forth under the

head of "Groups of Small Mammals." In addition, however, there is another

which should be kept constantly in mind, viz., to guard against the

temptation to permit the accessories of a group to completely overshadow,

and, I might say, overwhelm, the specimens themselves. Be careful to make

the birds conspicuous, and to avoid the appearance of an exhibit of

artificial plants and flowers, instead of mounted birds.

Of course each species must be represented by itself in a case which shall

contain its nest, displayed in the identical bough, or bunch of grass, or

hole in the bank which it occupied when found by the collector. Except when

a nest is situated in a bank of earth, the collector should cut a square

section out of nature, of the proper dimensions for casing, and convey

bodily the nest and its situation to the museum. Occasionally circumstances

will prevent this, when it becomes necessary to collect the nest and the

material surrounding it, so that with their aid the situation of the nest

can be built up in the laboratory.

The finest groups of birds to be found in this country are those in the

American Museum of Natural History in New York, which are the work of Mr.

Jenness Richardson. At present (1891) the series consists of groups

composed almost wholly of species found in the State of New York. Each

group, except in a few instances, occupies a light, iron-framed case by

itself, and stands on an ebonized table-base, raised on legs about eighteen

inches from the floor. The framework of the case, and the wood-work of the

base is painted black. When the home of a ground-nesting bird is shown, a

section has been cut from mother earth, placed on the base as the

foundation, and all the perishable plants growing thereon have been

carefully reproduced in wax by casting, and put back in place.

Where a nest was situated in a low bush, the bush and its foliage, and the

ground beneath have all been included in its transfer. When a nest was

placed on the end of a bough, the difficulty has been surmounted very

satisfactorily by cutting off as much of the bough as could be put in the

case, then reproducing, on the bottom of the case, the ground exactly as it

was under the tree, and simply laying carelessly upon it the cut branch

containing the nest and the birds. Of course watery situations call for the

introduction of the plate-glass imitation.

The feature of these groups that is so pleasing is that each one appears to

have been cut out of its place in field or forest, and brought to the

museum within an hour. The life-like birds, the earth and water, the

natural wood, and the beautiful foliage of spring combine to impart to each

group the breezy freshness of the forest, the very soul of Nature all

unchanged.

To see these charming productions, fresh from the hand of a true

artist-naturalist, and lay aside the spirit of carping criticism which

would find fault with even a heavenly harp, is the next thing to finding

one's self in the actual haunts of our native birds, with their songs

trilling in our ears. Mr. Richardson's groups lack but one thing--the song

of the birds. They are so many pretty pages from Nature's choicest book,

and actually bring the life of the forest into the otherwise dead and

silent museum hall.

The time will yet come when our wealthy lovers of art and animated nature

will find places in their houses for such groups as these, and the money to

pay for them will be forthcoming. At present they are tired of the

old-fashioned glass "shade," covering a stiff and utterly unnatural pyramid

of small stuffed birds on an impossible "tree." The old-fashioned wall-case

of birds also fails to satisfy the æsthete, for the simple reason that

something better is wanted. We are all ready to step up to a higher plane.

GROUPS OF REPTILES.--I know of but one good group of reptiles, and that is

a group of turtles which was prepared by Mr. F.A. Lucas, and displayed at

the exhibition of the S.A.T., in New York, in 1883, where it received a

medal, and afterward was presented by him to the National Museum. This

altogether unique and pretty group teaches one very important lesson, viz.,

that even the most commonplace animals are interesting when they are well

mounted, and grouped with a setting which represents their natural haunts.

Some of the specimens in this group are represented above water, and some

beneath it, while one enterprising individual is caught in the act of

diving, with part of his body under water and the other half out. The

situation represents the successful accomplishment of a very neat

mechanical feat, and is of itself an illustration of the possibilities in

such matters.

After the quadrupeds of North America have been gathered and grouped until

there remain in that direction no more worlds to conquer, it will be quite

in order for our enterprising taxidermists then to proceed to the mounting

of groups of reptiles.

There are possibilities with such subjects as the crocodiles, iguanas,

lizards of various kinds, serpents, and turtles that few dream of. Already

Professor Goode has under consideration the production of a series of

reptilian groups for the National Museum, and within a short time the work

will be undertaken.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

HINTS ON PAINTING MUSEUM SPECIMENS.

In the preparation of museum specimens in general there is, from first to

last, a great deal of painting to be done, and a knowledge of how to paint

specimens properly is quite as necessary as a knowledge of how to mount

them.

Materials Necessary for General Work.

_Brushes for Fine Work._

Artists' round Sable, No. 2, each 8 cts.

" " " 4, " 12 cts.

" " " 6, " 15 cts.

" " " 7, " 18 cts.

" " " 9, " 20 cts.

" " " 11, " 27 cts.

_Brushes for Ordinary Work._

Flat Fitch (bristles), No. 1, each 7 cts.

" " " 2, " 7 cts.

" " " 3, " 8 cts.

" " " 4, " 10 cts.

" " " 5, " 10 cts.

" " " 6, " 12 cts.

_Brushes for Coarse Work._

Sash tool, No. 5, each 20 cts.

" " 6, " 25 cts.

Sash tool, No. 7, each 30 cts.

" " 8, " 35 cts.

Palette 25 cts.

Palette knife 25 cts.

Palette cups, each 10 cts.

Spirits of turpentine, per qt. 15 cts.

Boiled linseed oil, per qt. 20 cts.

Hard oil finish (white, for varnishing) per pt. 25 cts.

_Windsor & Newton's Tube Colors, as follows_:

Ivory black, 8 cts.;

Vandyke brown, 8 cts.;

Burnt sienna, 8 cts.;

Raw sienna, 8 cts.;

Burnt umber, 8 cts.;

Raw umber, 8 cts.;

Naples yellow, 8 cts.;

Chrome yellow, 8 cts.;

Yellow ochre, 8 cts.;

Indigo, 8 cts.;

Indian red, 8 cts.;

Vermilion, 15 cts.;

Flake white, 8 cts.;

Sugar of lead, 8 cts.

For coarse work, all these colors, except the finer ones, should be bought

in one-pound cans, ground in oil. In addition to colors ground in oil, it

is extremely desirable to have from one to two pounds of each of the

following:

DRY COLORS, AND COST PER POUND.

Zinc white 10 cts.

Vandyke brown 15 cts.

Chrome yellow 25 cts.

Lamp-black 35 cts.

Plumbago 10 cts.

Raw sienna 15 cts.

Burnt umber 15 cts.

Raw umber 15 cts.

Burnt sienna 15 cts.

To the enterprising taxidermist a few dollars judiciously expended in such

materials as the above are bread cast upon the waters, that will be sure to

return to him before many days, buttered on both sides.

No matter what it costs, have the right kind of brushes, and a good

assortment of coloring materials. Do not try to "get along" with whatever

you happen to have, if it happens to be not the right thing. Don't try to

paint fish scales with a sash tool, or delicate fin-rays with a fitch. Use

for such purposes delicate, little sable pencils (flat), Nos. 1 to 4. Take

good care of them after use, wash them out with soap and water, or benzine,

and keep them in good working order by keeping them clean and soft. Do not

let the colors on your palette get in a nasty mess, fit to turn an artist's

stomach inside out, but keep your palette clean and in good order. Take

from the tubes only as much color as you are likely to use. Keep the centre

of your palette free from masses of color, so that you can have that space

for mixing.

Only those who have first been taught the slipshod ways of the slouch, and

afterward learned the methods of the artist, can realize the advantages in

favor of the latter as revealed in results.

GENERAL PRINCIPLES.--The skins and fleshy parts of all mammals and birds

become shrunken, mummified and colorless when dry, and if not covered with

hair or feathers require to be painted with the colors which have

disappeared. As to what the colors should be, the taxidermist must learn by

observation from living specimens, or those freshly killed, or from good

colored illustrations.

SURFACE.--Whatever the subject to be painted, the first care is to see that

the surface is properly prepared to receive the color. If it be skin, it

must be perfectly clean, and free from dirt, dust, or loose scales. If a

skin has any sort of powdery deposit upon it, it must be scraped clean with

a knife. Holes and seams must be filled up with papier-maché, long enough

in advance that it will have time to dry. Papier-maché which is to be

painted should always be given two coats of white shellac, mixed rather

thin, before putting on any paint. If this is not done, the maché will

absorb two or three coats of paint, like a sponge, and the surface will dry

perfectly dead.

GLOSS.--The colors on terrestrial mammals and birds (except the mouth parts

and noses of the former) are very seldom, if ever, what may be called

glossy. The mouth parts of mammals, or at least such as are wet by the

animal's saliva, are always glossy, as also are the edges of the eyelids,

and the bare end of the nose in ruminants.

_To give paint a perpetual gloss_, like varnish, use colors ground in oil,

and mixed with boiled linseed oil only when applied.

_To give paint a faint gloss_, use colors ground in oil, and mix with a

mixture of boiled linseed oil and turpentine, equal parts.

_To have paint dry without gloss_, mix with turpentine only when it is

applied.

_To have paint dry flat and dead_, use dry colors, and mix with turpentine.

_To make paint dry quickly and be very hard_, mix with it a little sugar of

lead (ground in oil) fresh from the tube.

To paint the skin of an animal, and yet make it look as if the skin

contained the color instead of bearing it upon its surface, use oil colors,

mix with boiled linseed oil and turpentine, equal parts, and apply. When

the paint is _beginning_ to dry, so that it is sticky, take some dry color

of a corresponding tint, dip into it a clean, dry, square-ended bristle

brush of good size, and twirl it about until it becomes filled with the dry

powder, then, with light and delicate strokes, apply it directly upon the

painted surface so that the dry color will fall upon the wet paint like a

shower of colored dust. This is to be done with the motion that painters

use in "stippling," and may very well be done with a stippling brush, if

you have one. Do not get on too much of the dry color, or the effect will

be spoiled. Your eye must teach you when to stop. In this process of

stippling dry color into wet paint, plaster Paris may very frequently be

used to good advantage to deaden gloss, and soften effects. In coloring the

hairless portions of the faces, hands, etc., of apes, baboons, and monkeys,

and on many other subjects, this process is of very great value.

BLENDING COLORS.--If two colors are laid down, one against the other, each

in a solid mass, up to the imaginary line that lies between them, the

effect is hard and unpleasing, because unnatural. Nature never joins two

contrasting-colors without a blending together and softening of the two

tones where they touch each other. If it be red and brown, the red merges a

little way into the brown, imperceptibly, perhaps, and the line of

demarcation between the two is thus softened, and naturalized, if you

please. Therefore, in your painting have no hard lines where your colors

meet, but always blend adjoining colors together by passing a small brush

over the line where they meet.

STRENGTH OF TONES.--The colors that Nature puts on an animal are not hard,

crude, and staring, like bright red in the mouth of a mounted quadruped,

but they are _always in harmony with the other parts of the object_. A bird

may have yellow legs, but if it does, you may be sure they will not be a

bright, glossy, chrome yellow, so gaudy as to instantly catch the eye. The

chances are, they will be Naples yellow, with only a tinge of chrome. Learn

to soften tints so they will not be staring, gaudy, and offensive to the

eye. Examine the tongue of a live tiger or lion, and you will notice its

color is a pale pink.

_In all painting, study the harmony of colors, the strength of tones, and

the blending of tints. Do not get your colors too gaudy, too sharply

contrasted, nor laid on roughly; but paint evenly, and keep all your colors

in perfect harmony._

PAINTING THE SKIN OF THINLY HAIRED MAMMALS.--It very often happens that the

skin of a thin-haired mammal has a decided color of its own, which must be

imparted to it by painting. This is particularly the case with our next of

kin--the apes and monkeys. The orang utan has a chocolate-colored skin,

except the old males, in which it is black; the mona monkey has a bluish

skin, and the faces of nearly all primates require painting. To paint a

skin through thin hair, use oil colors mixed with turpentine, and made so

thin that the mixture runs over the skin as soon as it touches it, like

water. By separating the hair, it is often possible to get the paint on the

skin without saturating the hair save at its roots; but if the turpentine

color does get on the hair it must be sponged off with benzine. Do not mix

your colors with oil, or you will get into serious trouble; but the oil in

which the tube color has been ground will be just sufficient to give a

natural tone to the skin. If the color when put on appears too strong and

conspicuous, stipple the surface with a little plaster Paris, to tone it

down.

PAINTING LEGS AND BEAKS OF BIRDS.--Paint the legs and beaks of such birds

as require it, with a mixture of boiled linseed oil and turpentine, equal

parts of each, and have your paint thin enough on the legs that it will not

obscure the scales. On the beak, a thicker coat is necessary, and, in fact,

it is nearly always necessary to put on two coats. In coloring the beaks of

toucans and hornbills, blend adjoining colors very deeply but evenly, and

let there be no hard boundary lines anywhere. A little white wax softened

and cut with turpentine and mixed with the paint on a bird's beak gives the

color a depth and transparency quite similar to the appearance of the beak

of a living bird.