PRACTICAL TAXIDERMY

A

MANUAL OF INSTRUCTION TO THE AMATEUR

IN COLLECTING, PRESERVING, AND

SETTING UP NATURAL HISTORY SPECIMENS OF ALL
KINDS.

TO WHICH IS ADDED A CHAPTER UPON

THE PICTORIAL ARRANGEMENT OF MUSEUMS.

ILLUSTRATED.

BY

MONTAGU BROWNE, F.Z.S., etc..,

Curator, Town Museum, Leicester.

————-

SECOND
EDITION,

Revised and considerably Enlarged,

With additional Instructions in Modelling and
Artistic Taxidermy.

————–

LONDON:

L. UPCOTT GILL, BAZAAR BUILDINGS, DRURY LANE,
W.C.

(FORMERLY OF 170, STRAND).

NEW YORK:

CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS, 153-157, FIFTH
AVENUE.

Plate I Peregrine Falcon on
Flight

Showing Method of Binding
etc..

Frontispiece —
see chapter V

LONDON:

L. UPCOTT GILL, LONDON AND COUNTY PRINTING
WORKS,

BAZAAR BUILDINGS. W.C.

Plate I Peregrine Falcon on Flight
*

PRACTICAL TAXIDERMY *

PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION. *

Scanner’s remarks. *

PRACTICAL TAXIDERMY

PREFACE TO SECOND
EDITION.

THE First Edition of “Practical
Taxidermy” having now run through the press — with, I
venture to hope, some profit to students of the art, if I may
judge from the many hundreds of letters I have from time to time
received — the publishers have invited me to revise such
parts of the work as may be expedient, and also to add many
technical methods of modelling animals an artistic
manner.

I do this the more readily because of the narrow way in which
most professional Taxidermists bolster up their art in a secret
and entirely unnecessary manner — unnecessary because
amateur can, but by the severest application, possibly compete
with the experience of the technical or professional worker. No
pictorial artist ever pretends he has a special brush or colours
with which he can paint landscapes or sea pieces at will; he
knows that only thorough mastery of the technicalities of his art
– supplemented by wide experience and close application – enables
him to succeed as he does, and to delight people who, seeing his
facility of handling, may imagine that picture painting is very
easy and could be readily acquired — perhaps from books. So
it is with the Taxidermist. Those, therefore, who procure this
book, thinking to do all attempted to be explained therein
without long study and without a knowledge of anatomy, form,
arrangement, and colour, may put it on one side as useless. These
pages are merely an introduction to a delightful art, which must
be wooed with patient determination and loving pains until
technical skill invests it with beauty.

If I can be of any assistance to my readers, I invite them to
write to me if at any time they are puzzled or temporarily
disheartened; merely asking them to remember

(1) — That, not being in business, I cannot of course
answer purely business communications; and (2) — Not being
a man of infinite leisure, it must also be remembered that a
properly directed envelope for return to the inquirer is of
consequence when minutes are precious. Unlike the Prime Minister,
I do not like post-cards, and never answer them if from unknown
correspondents.

I may here mention that this edition is not only considerably
enlarged, but has several woodcuts and four plates added, three
of which latter have been engraved from photographs specially
taken for this work.

I say now, in conclusion, work hard, study hard, and look to
good modellers and painters — and not to bird-stuffers
— for conceptions of form, arrangement, and colour, and in
the end, believe me, you will achieve a better success than
attends the labours of those who follow in the old paths of
careless or inartistic Taxidermy.

MONTAGU BROWNE.

LEICESTER.

PRACTICAL TAXIDERMY.

CHAPTER I.
THE RISE AND PROGRESS of TAXIDERMY.

TAXIDERMY, which is derived
from two Greek words, a literal translation of which would
signify the “arrangement of skins,” appears to have been
practised in a limited degree ages ago, for may we not say
without doubt that the first taxidermists were the ancient
Egyptians, who, despite the fact that they seldom or never appear
to have removed the skin as a whole, as in our modern methods,
yet, taking into consideration the excellent manner in which they
preserved their human or other bodies for thousands of years by
the aid of injections, spices, essential oils, or what not, they
may, I think, be fairly placed in the front rank as the first
taxidermists the world has known. For an account, of the arts
used in embalming see Herodotus, who says:

In Egypt certain
persons are appointed by law to exercise this art (embalming) as
their peculiar business; and when a dead body is brought them
they produce patterns of mummies in wood imitated in painting,
the most elaborate of which are said to be of him (Osiris) whose
name I do not think it right to mention on this occasion. The
second which they show is simpler and less costly; the third is
the cheapest. Having exhibited them all, they inquire of the
persons who have applied to them which method they wish to be
adopted, and this being settled, and the price agreed upon, the
parties return, leaving the body with the embalmers.

In preparing it according to the first method, they commence
by extracting the brain from the nostrils with a curved iron
probe, partly clearing the head by this means, and partly by
pouring in certain drugs; then, making an incision in the side
with a sharp Ethiopian stone, they draw out the intestines
through the aperture. Having cleansed and washed them with palm
wine they cover them with pounded aromatics, and afterwards
filling the cavity with powder of pure, myrrh, cassia, and other
fragrant substances, frankincense excepted, they sew it up
again. This being done, they salt the body, keeping it in natron
seventy days, to which period they are strictly confined. When
the seventy days are over they wash the body and wrap it up
entirely in bands of fine linen smeared on their inner side with
gum, which the Egyptians generally use instead of glue. The
relatives then take away the body, and have a wooden ease made in
the form of a man, in which they deposit it, and, when fastened
up, they keep it in a room in their house, placing it upright
against the wall. This is the most costly method of
embalming.

For those who choose the middle-kind, on account of the
expense, they prepare the body as follows: They fill syringes
with oil of cedar, and inject this into the abdomen, without
making any incision or removing the bowels, and, taking care that
the liquid shall not escape, they keep it in salt during the
specified number of days. The cedar oil is then taken out, and
such is its strength, that it brings with it the bowels and all
the inside in a state of dissolution. The natron also dissolves
the flesh, so that nothing remains but the skin and bones. This
process being over, they restore the body without any further
operation.

The third kind of embalming is only adopted for the poor. In
this they merely cleanse the body, by an injection of syrmoea,
and salt it during seventy days, after which it is returned to
the friends who brought it.

The account given by Diodorus is similar, if we except the
cost and time of embalming. The most expensive way of embalming
costs a talent of silver (about 250 pounds sterling); the second,
twenty-two minae (60 pounds); and the third is extremely cheap.
The persons who embalm the bodies are artists who have learnt
this secret from their ancestors. They present to the friends of
the deceased who apply to them an estimate of the funeral
expenses, and ask them in what manner they wish it to be
performed, which being agreed upon, they deliver the body to the
proper persona appointed to that office. First, one who is
denominated the scribe, marks upon the left side of the body, as
it lies on the ground, the extent of the incision which is to be
made; then another, who is called the dissector, cuts open as
much of the flesh as the law permits with a sharp Ethiopian
stone, and immediately runs away, pursued by those who are
present throwing stones at him, amidst bitter execrations, as if
to cast upon him all the odium of this necessary act, for they
look upon everyone who has offered violence to, or inflicted b
wound or any other injury upon a human body to be hateful; but
the embalmers, on the contrary, are held in the greatest
consideration and respect, being the associates of the priests,
and permitted free access to e temples as sacred persons.

As soon as they have met together to embalm the body thus
prepared them, one introduces his band through the aperture into
the abdomen, and takes everything out except the kidneys and
heart, another cleanses each of the viscera with palm wine and
aromatic substances; lastly, having applied oil of cedar and
other things to the whole body for wards of thirty days, they add
myrrh, cinnamon, and those drugs which have not only the power of
preserving the body for a length of time, but of imparting to it
a fragrant odour. It is then restored to the friends of the
deceased; and so perfectly are all the members preserved even the
hair of the eyelids and eyebrows remains undisturbed, and the
whole appearance of the person is so unaltered that every feature
may be recognised.

Sir J. Gardener Wilkinson
(“Manners and Customs of the Ancient Egyptians”) from whom I have
quoted, says that —

“The extraction of the
brain by the nostrils is proved by the appearance of the mummies
found in the tombs; and some of the crooked instruments (always
of bronze) supposed to have been used for this purpose have been
discovered at Thebes.”

The preservatives appear to
have been of two classes, bituminous and saline, consisting, in
the first class, of gums, resins, asphaltum, and pure bitumen,
with, doubtless, some astringent barks powders, etc.., rubbed
in. Mummies prepared in this is way are known by their dry, yet
flexible skins, retracted and adherent to the bones; features,
and hair, well preserved and life-like. Those mummies filled with
bitumen, have black skins, hard and shining as if varnished, but
with the features perfect, having been prepared with great care,
and even after ages have elapsed, are but little susceptible to
exposure.

Of the mummies of the second class (also filled with resins
and asphaltum), we must assume that their skins and flesh have
been subjected to sodaic or saline products; for Boitard, in a
work published at Paris in 1825, says that an injection is made
with oil of cedar and common salt, also, that they wash the
corpse with nitre and leave it to steep for seventy days, at the
end of which time they remove the intestines, which the injection
has corroded, and replace their loss by filling the cavity of the
abdomen with nitre. This is also borne out by Wilkinson, who
says:

“On exposure to air
they (the mummies) become covered with efflorescence of sulphate
of soda, and also readily absorb moisture from the
atmosphere.”

It appears, also, that after
the period of preparation (thirty, forty, or seventy days, as
fixed by various authors), the corpse was relieved, in the
first-class ones, of all the old saline, nitrous, or resinous
products, and re-filled with costly resins, aromatic spices, and
bitumen; which, says Monsieur Rouyer –

“Having styptic,
absorbent, and balsamic qualities, would produce a kind of
tanning operation on the body, which would also, no doubt, be
heightened by the washing with palm wine.”

He here broaches the ingenious
and highly probable theory, that the corpse, during its
mummification, was placed in stoves of a certain temperature,
where the heat gradually and closely united the various
preservative agents before mentioned. They were then swathed in
linen bandages of great length, and enclosed in beautifully
painted and gilded cartonages; the faces were heavily gilded and
the eyes imitated in enamel; they were then inclosed in three or
four cases, also richly gilded and painted, and finally “mounted”
in a sarcophagus.

Common people appear in some cases to have been merely salted
and plunged in liquid pitch, others were simply salted and dried.
Mummies prepared by these methods freely attract moisture —
are ill preserved, and, therefore, as a matter of course, fall to
pieces easily on contact with external air.

In summing up the process of embalming, as described by the
authors just quoted, we find a few problems of more or less
difficulty, and which none of them appear inclined to solve; and
I do not wonder at this, as the attempt, in my own case, in one
or two instances, has involved days of study and references to
dozens of medical and other works with but a meagre result.
However, to take them seriatim, we can assume, I think,
with some show of evidence, that the Ethiopian stone, mentioned
as being used to make the first incision in the corpse, might
have been a piece of obsidian or basalt, but most probably was
merely an ordinary sharp flint of a dark colour.

The first chemical used in embalming is the hardest nut of all
to crack, and on which I have most exercised my intellectual
teeth — and that is natron. Now, what is natron?
[Footnote: Natrium is the old Latin term for the metal or
base we now call sodium. The old names for some of its salts
were: Natron Carbonicum–or Bicarbonate of Soda; Natron
Vitriolatum — or Sulphate of Soda; discovered or
re-discovered about 1670. Nitrum =Carbonate of soda.]
Ordinary dictionaries and authors tell us, as a matter of course
— carbonate of soda. In support of this theory M. Rouyer
writes:

“The natron would be
used just as it was got from many of the lakes of Egypt, where it
is found abundantly in the form of carbonate of soda.”

Pereira, in “Materia Medica,”
though intimating that natron is not to be confounded with nitre,
says, in speaking of carbonate of soda:

“This salt was
probably known to the ancients under the term of Nitron.”
(Nitron)

Now, as
( Nitron)
is more likely,
from its etymology, to be translated “nitre,” we are landed into
another difficulty, if by nitre we mean saltpetre, for that will,
as we all know, preserve animal tissue for a certain time;
however, I do not think we can translate natron as being nitre
(saltpetre), for in former days many salts were included under
the general term nitre; for instance, our common soda and potash,
the chemical composition of which was unknown until Davy, in
1807, extracted the metals sodium and potassium from those salts.
Boitard expressly states:

“Il parait que ce
natrum était un alkali fixe, et pas du tout du nitre comme
quelques auteurs l’ont pensé; ce qui semblerait appuyer
cette opinion, c’est que lea femmes egyptiennes se servaient de
natrum pour faire leur lessive, comme on as sert
aujourd’hui de la soude.”

In Peru the soil may be said to
be impregnated with nitre, but that is nitrate of soda, and not
really saltpetre (nitrate of potassium), as many people imagine
who hear it called simply nitre.

Mr. Thos. W. Baker, who has most obligingly unearthed several
old works for me, says:

“Now I think of it,
natron is perfectly familiar to me as apparently a mixture of
broken soda crystals and a brown earth which is sold in the
bazaars of India, under the name of ‘sootjee moogee,’ for
domestic purposes; and I know, from experience, that unless it is
washed off paint work directly it is passed over it with a cloth
all the paint comes off bare, sometimes to the wood.”

Again, he says:

“In Bayley’s
Dictionary, circa 1730, I find the following: ‘Natron; or, a
Natron, from Gr. Natron (?)
( Natron), a kind of
black greyish salt, taken out of a lake of stagnant water in the
territory of Terrana, in Egypt.”

Also see “Penny Cyclopaedia,”
vol. xvi., p. 105, “Natron, native sesquicarbonate of soda (see
‘Sodium’):”

“The Natron Lakes,
which are six in number, are situated in a valley bordering upon
Lower Egypt, and are remarkable for the great quantity of salt
which they produce. The crystallisations are both of muriate of
soda (or common salt) and of carbonate of soda. … The “Natron”
is collected once a year, and is used both in Egypt and Syria, as
also in Europe, for manufacturing glass and soap, and for
bleaching linen.”

Turning to “Sodium” for the
sesquicarbonate, which is found native in Hungary, and also near
Fezzan, in Africa:

‘By the natives it is
called “Trona.” It is found in hard striated crystalline masses,
and is not altered by exposure to the air, but is readily soluble
in water. This salt appears to be formed when a solution of the
carbonate of soda is heated with carbonate of ammonia, and
probably also when a solution of the bicarbonate is heated. Its
taste is less alkaline than that of the carbonate, into which it
is converted when strongly heated by losing one-third of its
carbonic acid.’

That it was one of the products
of soda cannot reasonably be doubted. Biborate of soda (with
which I have been experimenting lately) has certainly wonderfully
preservative powers, especially in conjunction with common salt,
or saltpetre; but then it has not the caustic properties of
natron. May not natron have been a fixed alkali, or has the
native carbonate of soda more caustic and antiseptic properties
than the usual carbonate of soda of commerce, which plainly
cannot be intended?

We have here a most interesting subject to solve as to the
component parts of the ancient natron; my suspicion is that
natron, as used by the Egyptians, was a mixture of biborate of
soda, caustic soda, and muriate of soda. [Footnote: The
following report appeared in the California Alta, 24th June.
1874:

“AN INTERESTING
DISCOVERY. — Several weeks ago we mentioned the departure
of Mr. Arthur Robottom, Birmingham, England, on a search for
borax in the southern part of California. He has now returned,
bringing news of an interesting and valuable discovery. Beyond
the Sierra Nevada, in the Enclosed Basin of North America, about
140 miles in a north-eastward direction from Bakersfield, there
is the bed of a dry lake filled over an area of fifteen miles
long by six wide with saline crystals to a depth of about six or
eight feet. The appearance of the surrounding country clearly
indicates that water once stood sixty feet deep here over a large
area, the ancient beach being distinctly traceable. The most
remarkable fact about this-saline deposit is that in its middle
there is a tract, five miles long and two wide, of common salt,
while on the outside there is a deposit of borate of soda, three
feet thick, and under this a lower stratum composed of sulphate
of soda and tincal mixed together, from one to three feet thick.
These minerals are all in crystals, the sulphate of soda and
tincal forming a solid mass, almost like stone in its hardness.
The borate of soda is of a dirty hue, but the salt, which lies
above the level of the entire deposit, in some places to a depth
of seven feet, is white as snow. The report of natural deposits
thus situated will appear very improbable to scientific men, for
there is nothing to account for the separation of the salt from
the borates, or for the accumulation of salt above the level of
other crystalline deposits. We have Mr. Robottom for authority,
and the country is open for those who wish to examine for
themselves. The place can easily be found. It is known as the
Borax Fields in the Slate Range, and will be examined carefully
by many competent men, since the tincal — a crude borate of
soda — is a valuable mineral, and can be separated, at
little expense, from the sulphate of soda.”]

The next chemical agent we have to notice (which should,
however, have appeared prior to natron), is palm wine, used in
the first process of cleansing the intestines; this would
doubtless act as an astringent, and would, of course, tend to
coagulate the liquid albumen contained in the body (in a similar
manner to our ordinary spirits of wine), which, if followed by a
caustic alkali (such as natron may have been), to dissolve the
solid albumen, fibrin and gelatine, ought certainly to have
exercised a decidedly tanning influence.

Following this is oil of cedar. The present oil of cedar
(ol cedrat of commerce) cannot be intended, as that is
made from the citron, and being merely an essential oil can have
little of the antiseptic or corrosive qualities imputed to the
ancient oil of cedars. May it not have been a product distilled
from the actual cedar tree (one of the coniferae) similar to our
oil or spirit of turpentine? I have, however, been unable to
discover any writings in certain support of this theory;
“Encyclopaedia Britannica” merely mentions it as “a certain oily
liquor extracted from the cedar;” while Boitard boldly says, “…
Sans doute l’essence de terebenthine.” [Footnote: The
Detroit Review of Medicine and Pharmacy for July, 1876.
gives a report of a case of poisoning through an overdose of oil
of red cedar (oleum juniper virginianae) which supports my
theory as to there being extracted an oil from the Lebanon (or
other) cedars partaking of the nature of turpentine and totally
distinct from ol cedrat.]

Whatever may have been the composition of — and manner
of applying — the foregoing agents, it is certain that they
had the effect intended, for Diodorus writes fully within bounds
when mentioning the life-like appearance of the features in
mummies, as we know by later discoveries, for there are some
well-known specimens still in existence of which the eyelids,
lashes, eyebrows, and hair are still in their natural state, and
this after an interval of thousands of years. In some mummies,
for instance, the contour of the features is plainly discernible,
and surely this is scientific “preparation of specimens” not to
be excelled in the present day.

The Egyptian mode of
embalming was imitated occasionally by the Jews, Greeks, Romans,
and other nations, and has sometimes been adopted in modern
times, but never to the same extent or perfection as they
attained. The only other method which is known to have been
adopted as a national custom was that practised by the Guanches,
the ancient inhabitants of the Canary Isles. Their mummies are
particularly described by M. Bortj de St. Vincent, in his ‘Essai
sur les Isles Fortunées.’ Numerous and vast catacombs are
filled with them in each of the thirteen islands, but the best
known is one in Teneriffe, which contained upwards of a thousand
bodies. The mummies are sewn up in goat or sheep skins, and five
or six are commonly found together, the skin over the head of one
being stitched to that over the feet of another; but those of the
great are contained in cases hollowed out of a piece of savin
wood. The bodies are not bandaged, and are dry, light
tan-coloured, and slightly aromatic. Several of them are
completely preserved with distinct, though distorted,
features.

The method of embalming adopted by the Guanches consisted in
removing the viscera in either of the same ways as the Egyptians
practised, then filling the cavities with aromatic powders,
frequently washing and anointing the surface, and, lastly, drying
the body very carefully for fifteen or sixteen days in the sun or
by a stove.

[Footnote: My friend,
the late Thos. Baker, wrote me, some time before his sad death by
shipwreck: “In an old work which I have, ‘A General Collection of
Voyages,’ I find the following relating to the ‘Guanches’ in vol.
i., book ii., chap. i., page 184, ‘The Voyage of Juan Rejon to
the Canary Islands, AD. 1491’: ‘When any person died, they
preserved the body in this manner: First, they carried it to a
cave and stretched it on a fiat stone, where they opened it and
took out the bowels; then, twice a day, they washed the porous
parts of the body, viz., the arm-pits, behind the ears, the
groin, between the fingers, and the neck, with cold water. After
washing it sufficiently they anointed those parts with sheep’s
butter (?), and sprinkled them with a powder made of the dust of
decayed pine trees, and a sort of brushwood which the Spaniards
call Brefsos, together with the powder of pumice stone. Then they
let the body remain till it was perfectly dry, when the relatives
of the deceased came and swaddled it in sheep or goat skins
dressed. Girding all tight with long leather thongs, they put it
in the cave which had been set apart by the deceased for his
burying place, without any covering. There were particular
persons set apart for this office of embalming, each sex
performing it for those of their own. During the process they
watched the bodies very carefully to prevent the ravens from
devouring them, the relations of the deceased bringing them
victuals and waiting on them during the time of their
watching.'”]

So complete is the
desiccation of these mummies, that a whole body, which Blumenbach
possessed, weighed only 7.5 lb., though the dried skeleton of a
body of the same size, as usually prepared, weighs at least 9
lb.

In some situations the conditions of the soil and atmosphere,
by the rapidity with which they permit the drying of the animal
tissues to be effected, are alone sufficient for the preservation
of the body in the form of a mummy; this is the case in some
parts of Peru, especially at Arica, where considerable numbers of
bodies have been found quite dry in pits dug in a saline dry
soil. There is an excellent specimen of a mummy of this kind in
the Museum of the College of Surgeons, which was brought from
Caxamarca by General Paroissien — like most of them, it is in a
sitting posture, with the knees almost touching the chin, and the
hands by the sides of the face. It is quite dry and hard; the
features are distorted, but nearly perfect, and the hair has
fallen off. The Peruvian mummies do not appear to have been
subjected to any particular preparation, the dry and absorbent
earth in which they are placed being sufficient to prevent them
from putrefying. M. Humboldt found the bodies of many Spaniards
and Peruvians lying on former fields of battle dried and
preserved in the open air. In the deserts of Africa the
preservation of the body is secured by burying it in the hot
sand; and even in Europe soils are sometimes met with in which
the bodies undergo a slow process of drying, and then remain
almost unalterable even on exposure to the air and moisture.
There is a vault at Toulouse in which a vast number of bodies
that have been buried were found, after many years, dry and
without a trace of the effects of putrefaction; and in the vaults
of St. Michael’s Church, Dublin, the bodies are similarly
preserved. In both cases putrefaction is prevented by the
constant absorption of the moisture from the atmosphere, and
through its medium from the body by the calcareous soil in which
the vaults are dug. — Penny Cyclopaedia, vol. xv., p.
477.”

Having now given a brief sketch
of the best-known methods of preserving Nature’s greatest
handiwork — Man — I may mention that the Egyptians
also devoted their energies to the preservation of those things
more intimately connected with our theme, namely, mammals, birds,
etc.. A people who knew how to preserve and arrest from decay
the carcase of so immense an animal as the hippopotamus (a mummy
of which was discovered at Thebes), or the various bulls, cows,
dogs, cats, mice, ichneumons, hawks, ibises, fishes, serpents,
crocodiles, and other sacred animals (mummies of which have been
and are constantly found), must have had some glimmerings of
taxidermy; many of the subjects are preserved in so beautiful a
manner that mummied ibises, hawks, etc.., are occasionally
discovered even in a good state of preservation, and Cuvier
actually found in the intestines of a mummied ibis (Ibis
religiosa, a species still found, though rarely, in Egypt)
the partly-digested skin and scales of a snake!

From this period of the world’s history I can discover but few
links to the chain of Practical Taxidermy.

True it is that the Greeks, Romans, and the tribes which
inhabited ancient Britain must have had some knowledge of
preserving Skins of animals slaughtered by them in the chase, for
we everywhere read of the skins of lions, tigers, wolves,
etc.., being used for purposes of necessity, as in the case of
those barbarians who clothed themselves with skins as a
protection from the inclemency of the weather, and also in the
case of the luxurious Greeks and Romans, who used skins in the
adornment of their persons or homes. In fact, the conversion of
skins into leather must be of the highest antiquity, for, in the
Leeds mummy described in 1828, there was found on the bandages of
the head and face a thong composed of three straps of leather,
and many of the Egyptian divinities are represented with a lion
or leopard skin as a covering for the throne, etc..; and do we
not read in many places in Holy Writ of leather and of tanners?
— a notable instance, to wit, in Simon, the tanner —
in fact, the ancient history of all nations teems with the
records of leather and of furs; but of the actual setting up of
animals as specimens I can find no trace.

I doubt, however, if we can carry taxidermy proper farther
back than to about 150 years ago, at which date naturalists
appear to have had some idea of the proper preservation and
mounting of natural history specimens; but Réaumur, more
than a century and a quarter ago, published a treatise on the
preservation of skins of birds; however, as his plan was simply
setting up with wires birds which had previously been steeped in
spirits of wine, his method did not find much favour. It appears
that, just after that time, the system was tried of skinning
birds in their fresh state, and also of cutting the skins
longitudinally in two halves, and filling the one half with
plaster; then the skin was fixed to a backboard, an eye was
inserted, and the beak and legs were imitated by painting: and
this was then fixed in a sort of framework of glass. This system
is still followed to a certain extent; for, fifteen years ago,
when I was in one of the Greek islands, a German came round the
town selling birds mounted in the same way, and also mounted
feather by feather.

To quote now from the translation of a French work, published
by Longman, Rees, and Co., in London, in 1820, we find that “A
work appeared at Lyons in 1758, entitled ‘Instructions on the
Manner of Collecting and Preparing the Different Curiosities of
Natural History.'” [Footnote: The sixth edition,
twenty-three years later, has this title, “Taxidermy, or the Art
of Preparing and Mounting Objects of Natural History for the use
of Museums and Travellers, by Mrs. R. Lee, formerly Mrs. J.
Edward Bowdich. Sixth edition, 1843. Longman, Brown, Green, and
Longman.”]

The author was the
first who submitted some useful principles for taxidermy. He
ornamented his book with many plates, more than half of which are
in all respects foreign to his subject, as they simply represent
shells, and other marine productions, with their
descriptions.

In 1786, the Abbé Manesse published a volume under the
title of “Treatise on the Manner of Stuffing and Preserving
Animals and Skins.” He presented his work to the Academy, who
made a favourable report of it.

Mauduyt has given a memoir on the manner of preparing dead
birds for forming collections. (See la 5ème “Livraison de
L’Encyclopédie, Méthodique, Histoire Naturelle des
Oiseaux,” t. i., deuxième partie, p. 435.) By studying his
method we may, with perseverance, be able to mount birds well,
although he had never prepared them himself, for he has composed
his memoir from the notes which Lerot furnished him, who mounted
them very well, and who merited the confidence which Mauduyt had
accorded him in all the preparations which his fine collection
required.

An old sculptor, living at Lahaye, devoted himself to the
practice of taxidermy, and in a short time surpassed all those
who had employed themselves in mounting animals, especially large
mammalia.

It seems that neither the English nor the Dutch have published
any work which treats of the method of mounting animals according
to system.

In 1801 we were not more advanced than they were. What we
possessed of this kind appeared insufficient to amateurs.
Notwithstanding, many derived advantage from the memoir of
Mauduyt, but being inserted in the “Encyclopédie
Méthodique,” it was not always easy to procure it. There
was, besides, only the work of Abbé Manesse, and the
tediousness of the means which he pointed out frightened all
those who desired to learn taxidermy. The professors of natural
history to the central schools of the departments felt more than
ever the want of a work which furnished the method of preserving
and augmenting their zoological collections. In 1802 their wishes
were nearly accomplished, for there appeared almost at the same
time two works on taxidermy, the one by M. Nicholas, a chemist,
the other by M. Henon. M. Nicholas makes an analysis of all that
had been said before on the preparation of animals. This view
comprehends nearly half the volume.

Bécoeur, of Metz, was the best apothecary in that city.
He mounted fresh birds in the greatest perfection, and by a
little practice one is sure to succeed with his method. He opened
his birds in the usual manner, that is to say, by the middle of
the belly. He easily took out the body by this opening without
cutting any of the extremities; he then removed the flesh by the
aid of a scalpel, taking the precaution to preserve all the
ligaments; he anointed the skin, and put the skeleton in its
place, carefully dispersing the feathers on each side. He ran the
head through with an iron wire, in which he had formed a little
ring at nearly the third of its length; the smallest side passed
into the rump in such a manner that ‘the ring of the iron wire
was under the sternum. He then passed a wire into each claw, so
that the extremities of the wire united to pass into the little
ring; he bent these extremities within, and fixed them with a
string to the iron in the middle of the vertebral column. He
replaced the flesh by flax, or chopped cotton, sewed up the bird,
placed it on a foot or support of wood, and gave it a suitable
attitude, of which he was always sure — for a bird thus
mounted could only bend in its natural posture (?). He prepared
quadrupeds in the same manner.

It remains for us to speak of a little work published by Henon
and Mouton Fontenelle. They had at first no other object than to
read their manuscript to the Athenaeum at Lyons, of which they
were members. They were earnestly solicited to print it, and
published it in 1802. The authors speak of birds only. They
describe an infinity of methods practised by others, and compare
them to their own, which, without doubt, are preferable, but too
slow to satisfy the impatience of ornithologists.

The book from which I have just quoted seems to have been the
only reliable text book known at that period, and with the
exception of certain modern improvements in modelling and
mounting, contains a mass of — for that day —
valuable elementary information. In fact, the French and German
taxidermists were then far in advance of us, a stigma which we
did not succeed in wiping off until after the Great Exhibition of
1851.

Although, as I have just said, the French and Germans excelled
us in the setting up of specimens, yet their collections did not,
in all cases, exceed ours in point of interest or magnitude, for
the old taxidermists had been at work prior to 1725, at which
date it is recorded that the museum of Sir Hans Sloane (the
nucleus of our British Museum collection) contained the following
number of specimens: Mammals, 1194; birds, 753; reptiles,
345; fishes, 1007. A gradual increase appeared by 1753, when the
figures stood: Mammals, 1886; birds, 1172; reptiles, 521; fishes,
1555. A great proportion of these were, however, not stuffed
specimens, but simply bones and preparations of fleshy parts in
spirits. Nothing shows the gradual rise and progress of taxidermy
better than the history of the British Museum, which, under the
then name of Montagu House, was opened to the public by special
ticket on Jan. 15, 1759.

Soon after its opening the natural history collections appear
to have claimed more interest from the public, for in 1765 we had
a very good collection of butterflies, and in 1769 the trustees
acquired, by purchase, a considerable collection of stuffed birds
from Holland. The restrictions on visitors were, however,
vexatious, people of all classes being hurried through the rooms
at a tremendous speed — vide Hutton, the Birmingham
historian, who visited it in 1784, and relates how he would fain
have spent hours looking at things for which only minutes were
allowed. From this period up to 1816 (at which date the valuable
ornithological collection of Col. Montagu was purchased for the
nation at a cost of £11,000) the additions to the natural
history galleries were not many, probably owing to the troublous
times; however, when we had succeeded in breaking the power of
Napoleon and restored peace to Europe, naturalists and
taxidermists found that the public had then time and inclination
to devote themselves to their collections or works.

Accordingly, during the next twenty years many works
(including those before noted) were written on taxidermy, the
most notable being by Swainson, Brown, and that eccentric genius
Waterton, whom we may call the pioneer of our present system of
mounting, and who, in his usual caustic style, pointed out the
very inferior way in which specimens were then mounted.

At the end of his “Wanderings in South America” appeared a
treatise on Taxidermy, but, as he decried the use of arsenical
preparations, and mounted his birds without wires in a fashion
peculiar to himself, his system did not find favour in the eyes
of the school of rigid stuffing, who had not then worked out the
present happy compromise between his style and theirs. His
patience must have been inexhaustible; indeed, the Rev. J. G.
Wood, who knew him well, has told me of many instances in which
he spent days in scraping out the hands and feet of the larger
apes until he got them as thin as paper, and also of his delight
when he invented the kid-glove substitute for a peacock’s face
much to the astonishment of the reverend gentleman. Of course;
all these works on the preservation of natural history objects
and the labours of collectors directed the public mind to the
contemplation of natural history.

The British Museum at this time also — relieved of a few
of the restrictions on admission — became more popular, and
in 1836 we find the natural history collections were as follow:
Mammals, species 405; birds, species 2400; constituting
altogether in specimens the sum total of 4659. Of reptiles we
could boast — species 600, specimens 1300; fish 1000
specimens. These figures did not contrast favourably with the
Paris Museum as in the days of old for now Paris stood: Mammals,
species 500; birds, species 2300; grand total of specimens 6000.
Of fish the French had four times as many as we (and beat us,
proportionately, in other sections), while we were far in advance
in this class of the Vienna and Berlin Museums. In shells (not
fossils), London and Paris were equal and much superior to Berlin
and Leyden. In 1848 an extraordinary increase (marking the great
interest taken in taxidermical science) had taken place; we now
had added to the British Museum since 1836, 29,595 specimens,
comprising 5797 mammals, 13,414 birds, 4112 reptiles, 6272
fish.

In mammals and birds we held the proud position of having the
finest and most extensive collection in the world, while in
reptiles and fish we were again beaten by Paris. In proof of the
growing interest taken in natural history, we find that in 1860
the number of visitors to the natural history department was
greatly in excess of all the other departments; and at the
present time the attendance has greatly increased, as also the
objects exhibited, a fact patent to all who will take the trouble
to visit the British Museum, or to inspect the official
catalogues published from time to time, a synopsis of which
cannot at present be given owing to their extent and variety; but
we can assume, I think, that we have as complete a natural
history collection as is to be found in any of the museums of the
world. [Footnote: Some idea of the extent of the National
Natural History Collections may be gathered from the pages of the
recently-published British Museum “Catalogues” 1874-82, where, in
many instances, the number of specimens of a certain order of
birds contained in the Museum falls very little short of the
ascertained number of species for the whole of the
world.]

Though taxidermy flourished, as we see, for some years
previous to the Great Exhibition of 1851, yet that decidedly gave
a considerable impetus to the more correct and artistic
delineation of animals, especially in what may be called the
grotesque school instituted by the Germans, which, though it may
perhaps be decried on the score of misrepresenting nature in the
most natural way possible, yet teaches a special lesson by the
increased care necessary to more perfectly render the fine points
required in giving animals that serio-comic and half-human
expression which was so intensely ridiculous and yet admirable in
the studies of the groups illustrating the fable of “Reinecke the
Fox,” which were in the Wurtemburgh Court, class XXX., and were
executed by H. Ploucquet, of Stuttgart. These groups, or similar
ones, are now to be seen in the Crystal Palace at Sydenham.

In nearly all of these groups the modelling and the varied
expressions of hope, fear, love, and rage, were an immense step
in advance of the old wooden school of taxidermy; specimens of
which are still to be found in museums — stiff, gaunt,
erect, and angular. Copies of those early outrages on nature may
still be seen in the dreary plates of the anything but “animated”
work of “poor Goldie,” who, as Boswell said, “loved to shine” in
what was least understood.

16 PRACTICAL TAXIDERMY.

From this era the English artists, having had their eyes
opened by the teachings of the foreign exhibits of 1851, steadily
gained ground, and the Wards having the sense to employ, in the
first instance, foreign artistic workmen, rapidly pushed to the
front, until the finest animal study of ancient or modern times
was achieved by one of them — the “Lion and Tiger
Struggle,” exhibited at Paris, and afterwards at the Sydenham
Crystal Palace. This, and one or two analogous works, carried the
English to the foremost ranks of zoological artists; and now that
we embellish our taxidermic studies with natural grasses, ferns,
etc.., and with representations of scenery and rockwork, in the
endeavour to carry the eye and mind to the actual localities in
which the various species of animals are found — an advance
in art not dreamed of fifty years ago — and also correctly
model the heads and limbs of animals, we still hold our own, and
are as far advanced in taxidermy as any other nation.

CHAPTER II.
DECOYING AND TRAPPING ANIMALS.

THE decoying and trapping of
birds, etc.., is a somewhat delicate subject to handle, lest we
degenerate into giving instruction in amateur poaching; but the
application of my direction I must leave to the reader’s own
sense of fitness of time and scene, and object to be snared. And
now, before launching into my subject, one word in season.
Observe as a golden rule — never to be broken — this:
Do not snare, shoot, nor kill any more birds or animals than you
absolutely want — in fine, do not kill for killing’s sake,
or snare in wantonness. Let all you do have reference to some
object to be attained, either to procure specimens wanted for a
collection, or, in cases of necessity, for food. Bear this in
mind, for, without sympathy with creatures fashioned in as
complex and beautiful a manner as ourselves, we can never hope to
be true naturalists, or to feel a thrill of exquisite pleasure
run through us when a new specimen falls to our prowess. How can
we admire its beauty when alive, or feel a mournful satisfaction
at its death, if we are constantly killing the same species of
bird for sport alone?

Another thing: kill a wounded bird as quickly and humanely as
possible, which you may always do by pressing its breast just
under the wings with your finger and thumb, bearing the whole
weight of the palm of the hand on the sternum or breast-bone, and
gradually increasing the pressure until life is extinct. This
plan suffices for even the larger birds, provided you can find a
means of holding them firmly while you employ both hands in the
manner previously indicated.

Again: if collecting eggs, be content with half the sitting of
a nest, and if you know of a very rare nest of eggs, do not take
them all in your acquisitive greed. If you see a rare bird, on
common land, you may as well secure him as let “Jack Smith” make
him up in a sparrow pie; but if the bird is on preserved land, or
in a retired spot where no one is likely to harry it, do think a
minute before pulling trigger, and ask yourself three
questions:

If you can answer any of these questions in the affirmative,
why, “don’t shoot, colonel;” for think of the aid to science,
and your own satisfaction, if you can discover anything new in
its habits, or verify any doubtful point. Many rare birds would
nest here if undisturbed, and come again with additions. The
Hoopoe, or golden oriole, for instance, and many other rare
birds, would nest, and, indeed, do nest here when allowed.

An interesting account of the appearance of the great bustard
in Norfolk, and the pains taken through the kindness of Lord
Lilford to provide it with a mate, appeared in the Field of
April 8, 1876. But alas! everyone is not so considerate, and we
have but a select few of such self-sacrificing people.

I presume no notice is required how to set the first trap on
our list — I mean our boyhood’s old favourite, the brick
trap, or the sieve and string, both very well in their way in
hard weather; but a notice may be required as to the uses to
which the next simplest trap, or springe (the horsehair noose),
may be applied. For the very few people who do not know how to
set it, I will, in the manner of Col. Hawker, who did everything
at the time which he wished to explain in writing, proceed to
make one.

Fig. 1 — Loop in
wire.

Here, then, I have a black horsehair about two feet long; I
double it, holding it between the right-hand finger and thumb,
leaving a little loose loop of about half an inch long; from this
point I proceed by an overhand motion of the thumb to twist it
up; on reaching the bottom I make a small knot to prevent its
unrolling; then, pushing the knotted end through the eye of the
loop, I thus form a loose noose. I then attach a piece of wire to
the free end by a twisted loop (see Fig. 1).

With about half a dozen of these springes coiled in an oval
tin box I am ready to snare any small bird whose haunt I may
discover. Birds which are nesting can easily be caught by placing
one noose in the nest and others round the edge or mouth, making
fast the end wires to any contiguous branch or twigs. Moorhens or
water-rails, which swim or run through the constantly frequented
tracks which they have made in dense undergrowth or rushes in
bogs, may be captured by attaching these nooses to a string
stretched across — indeed, a writer in the Field, of July
8, 1876, says, speaking of Turkestan:

“Ducks are caught by
rather a clever arrangement with horsehair nooses attached to a
string, which is stretched over the ditches and canals used for
irrigation, and so close to the water that the ducks are
compelled when swimming under the string to stretch out their
necks, when they are easily caught in the hanging
nooses.”

Also a useful plan for catching
plovers or snipes, which haunt the edges of streams having a
narrow margin between the bank and the water, is described by him
as used for catching quails:

“One method is
simplicity itself: a hair noose is fastened to a lump of clay
well worked together; a number of these appliances are scattered
about the lucerne fields, which the quails are fond of
frequenting; the bird caught in the noose is prevented from
flying away owing to the weight of the lump of clay and its
getting easily entangled in the grass.”

Wheatears and ortolans are
caught by suspending a hair noose between two turves placed on
end and touching each other in the form of the roof of a house;
to this shelter the birds constantly run on the approach of
danger, or even, apparently, through timidity, on the gathering
of storm clouds.

With this springe, also, thrushes and similar birds are
described as being snared by Mr. Gould (in his “Birds of Great
Britain”), who, giving Mr. Box as his authority, says:

“The thrush is a great
source of amusement to the middle, and of profit to the lower,
classes during its autumnal migration. Many families of Liege,
Luxemburg, Luneburg, Namur, parts of Hainault, and Brabant choose
this season for their period of relaxation from business, and
devote themselves to the taking of this bird with horsehair
springes. The shopkeeper of Liege and Verviers, whose house in
the town is the model of comfort and cleanliness, resorts with
his wife and children to one or two rooms in a miserable country
village to enjoy the sport he has been preparing with their help
during the long evenings of the preceding winter, in the course
of which he has made as many as from 5000 to 10,000 horsehair
springes and prepared as many pieces of flexible wood, rather
thicker than a swan-quill, in and on which to hang the birds. He
hires what he calls his ‘tenderie,’ being from four to five acres
of underwood about three to five years old, pays some thirty
shillings for permission to place his springes, and his greatest
ambition is to retain for several years the same tenderie and the
same lodgings, which he improves in comfort from year to
year.

The springes being made and the season of migration near, he
goes for a day to his intended place of sojourn, and cuts as many
twigs, about 18 in. in length, as he intends hanging springes.
There are two methods of hanging them — in one the twig is
bent into the form of the figure six, the tail end running
through a slit out in the upper part of the twig. The other
method is to sharpen a twig at both ends, and insert the points
into a grower or stem of underwood, thus forming a bow, of which
the stem forms the string below the springe; and hanging from the
lower part of the bow is placed a small branch, with three or
four berries of the mountain ash (there called “sorbier “); this
is fixed to the bow by inserting the stalk into a slit in the
wood. The hirer of a new tenderie three or four acres in extent
is obliged to make zigzag footpaths through it, to out away the
boughs which obstruct them, and even to hoe and keep them clean.
Having thus prepared himself, he purchases one or two bushels of
mountain ash berries, with the stalks to which they grow, picked
for the purpose after they are red, but before they are ripe, to
prevent falling off: these he lays out on a table in the loft or
attic. The collection of these berries is a regular trade, and
the demand for them is so great that, although planted expressly
by the side of the roads in the Ardennes, they have been sold as
high as 2 pounds the bushel; but the general price is 5
francs.

We will now suppose our thrush-catcher arrived at his lodgings
in the country — that he has had his footpath cleared by
the aid of a labourer, and that he is off for his first day’s
sport. He is provided with a basket, one compartment of which
holds his twigs bent or straight, another his berries; his
springes being already attached to the twigs, he very rapidly
drives his knife into a lateral branch, and fixes them, taking
care that the springe hangs neatly in the middle of the bow, and
that the lower part of the springe is about three fingers’
breadth from the bottom. By this arrangement the bird alighting
on the lower side of the bow, and bending his neck to reach the
berries below, places his head in the noose. Finding himself
obstructed in his movements, he attempts to fly away; but the
treacherous noose tightens round his throat, and he is found by
the sportsman hanging by the neck, a victim of misplaced
confidence.

The workman, who at this season earns a second harvest by this
pursuit, carries on his industry in wilder districts, or he
frequently obtains permission from his employer to set springes
in his master’s woods. In this case he supplies the family with
birds, which are highly appreciated as a delicacy, especially
when almost covered with butter, with a few juniper berries, and
some bacon cut into small dice and baked in a pan. The rest of
his take he sells at from 5d. to 10d. per dozen.

No person who has not lived in the country can imagine the
excitement among all classes when the “grives” arrive. If the
morning be foggy, it is a good day for “grives”; if bright, bad
“tenderie”! The reason is obvious. When the birds arrive in a fog
they settle at once in the woods; if bright, they fly about,
seeking the most propitious place for food.

It appears that redwings and
fieldfares are caught by this method also, as well as a few
ring-ousels and blackbirds.

“Stonehenge” says that the springe just described was used for
snaring woodcocks, in the following mariner:

“It used to be the
constant practice on all the hill downs in these parts to place
out underwood or furze, about a foot in height, to a very great
extent along the ground, in the shape of a letter V, at the apex
of which an opening would be left, where a hair noose or springe
would be set, which seldom failed to yield the pot-hunter a
nightly supply, as the cock would run along the side of the
brushwood feeding, not taking the trouble to top over it, until
he was led into the snare; but this plan is now, owing to the
scarcity of cocks, when compared with former years, very seldom
practised.”

Ptarmigan are said by Daniels,
in his “Rural Sports,” to be led up to springes in nearly the
same manner, stones being substituted for furze.

Another mode of making a springe, which is a capital plan for
catching almost any bird, whether it be a percher or a runner, is
this: Procure an elastic wand (hazel or osier makes the best) of
about 3 ft. 6 in. long, to the top of which tie a piece of
twisted horsehair about 3 in. in length; to the free end attach a
little piece of wood of 2 in. in length, by the middle, cutting
one end to an obtuse point, flattened on the top and underneath.
Just underneath this little crosspiece attach two horsehair
springes, at right angles; next cut a little fork, or rather
angle piece, from a tree, one end of which is to be quite 4 in.
long (to drive in the ground), the other end about 0.5 in.,
measuring from underneath.

To set this trap, push the long wand into the ground until
about 3 ft. of it is out; then, at a distance of 2 ft., drive in
the fork piece, until only 0.5 in. clears the ground; next bend
the wand down in the form of a bow, and bring the pointed end of
the crosspiece under the peg, or fork, planted in the ground at
the other end. The free end is now a little elevated, while the
middle is held very lightly on the point of the catch, and its
opposite end rests lightly on the ground. On the “ticklish”
setting of this everything depends.

Next place some blades of grass or light moss so as to hide
the fork piece at the back and sides, taking care that no small
sticks interfere with the proper working of the trap; strew some
suitable seed or bait on the grass or moss, and then carefully
place one horsehair noose in such a manner as to trap a bird
should it merely hop on the crosspiece, and the other noose
arrange so as to catch it by the neck should it attempt to seize
the bait or to pass. In either case it dislodges the crosspiece,
which instantly flies up, suspending the bird by the neck or legs
in one or both of the nooses. The appearance of the set trap
before the grass or moss is arranged is as represented in Fig. 2,
which I have drawn from a trap set for that purpose.

Sometimes this trap (or properly springe) is set with another
fork placed at right angles to the other, and sufficiently
distant from it to just catch the opposite end of the crosspiece,
and though, perhaps, this plan allows it to be set a little
finer, it has many disadvantages.

Fig. 2 —
“SPRINGE,” OR SNARE FOR BIRDS.

Yet another modification of the same springe. The wand or
spring-stick, crosspiece, and nooses as before, but instead of
the simple catch, use a complete bow, with both ends stuck in the
ground. At some little distance from this drive in a straight
piece of stick; next procure a piece of stick with a complete
fork or crutch at one end. To set it, draw down the spring-stick
and pull the crosspiece under the bow by the top side farthest
from the spring-stick. Now hold it firmly with one hand while you
place the forked stick with its crutch pressing against the
opposite upright stick, and bring its free end against the lower
end of the crosspiece, and adjust both as finely as you can.
Finally, arrange the nooses in such a manner that if either of
them or the crutched stick is touched the latter falls, and
releasing the crosspiece, the spring-stick flies up, and the bird
with it.

To see the setting of this at a glance, vide Fig. 3
(showing only one noose, however), which I have “cribbed” from a
tail piece of Bewick’s, putting it a little out of drawing to
show it up.

Fig. 3 —
“Springe” for Snipe.

The next simple trap to be considered is evidently the
pit-fall, used only, however, for large and fierce animals, and
varying in construction in different countries. For descriptions
of methods of baiting for and catching such animals as lions,
leopards, tigers, elephants, etc.., consult almost any book on
African or Indian field sports.

Of poisons or intoxicants for capturing birds or animals, I do
not intend to treat, as they are better left to gamekeepers and
poachers.

Dead-falls, such as the “Figure of 4 trap,” are easy to make,
and useful for killing small animals. The materials required are
simply three ordinary pieces of wood, a small piece of string,
or, better still, wire, and a large, heavy, flat paving stone, or
slate. Having procured three pieces of wood of half an inch
square by one foot long, we call one the “upright,” which is
simply brought to a point at one end, somewhat like a chisel. The
second is the “slanting stick,” which should be cut to about 8
in. long, having a nick in it about half an inch from one end,
about half way through its depth; the other end is brought to a
chisel point on its upper surface; the third, which is the “foot”
or “bait stick,” has a square notch, the thickness of the
upright, cut in it, about three inches from one end; the inner
end of this notch is relieved a little, so as not to bind on the
upright too much. Within half an inch of the other end another
notch is cut, but at right angles to the last, that is to say,
this last notch is cut on the top, while the other is cut at the
side; the outer or top notch also slopes inward. At the inner or
side notch end drill a little hole, through which place a piece
of pointed wire to receive the bait.

The appearance of the three sticks when set is best explained
by Fig 4; A. is the upright, B the slanting stick, and C bait or
bottom stick. To set it, take the upright in the left hand,
chisel point up, pick up B with the right hand, place it with its
notch fitting on the top of A, and keeping the slanting stick
pressed down firmly, you hold the two in proper position. This
has relieved the left hand entirely, which now is used to pick up
c; place the side notch of this on the upright A, slide it up
until its end nick is caught by the point of B; a sufficient
leverage, as it were, being attained on this, we can hold the
whole of the trap now with the right hand. By grasping B with the
fingers of the hand in opposition to the palm, while the thumb
presses it down on the top, the left hand, being at liberty, is
used to drag the stone and to raise one end to fall on the top of
B; the weight of the stone now sets the three parts in opposition
to each other. An animal touching the bait in the slightest
manner is sufficient to destroy the nice balance of the whole
affair, and down it comes with a run. The sizes given —
from a trap I have just set — are, of course, for small
animals only, but it may be enlarged or decreased to any extent,
at the pleasure of the operator.

Fig. 4 —
“FIGURE of 4” TRAP.

As “Stonehenge” and “High Elms” have introduced some
improvements, I may as well quote the former:

The Figure of 4 trap
is composed of a large square piece of stone or slate propped up
in a peculiar manner with three pieces of wood, which are
arranged in the shape of a 4.

In examining this figure it will be seen to consist of a
perpendicular limb or upright, of a horizontal one or stretcher,
and of a short slanting stick, as the third is called. The
upright is usually cut about half an inch wide, shaved to a thin
edge at top, but “High Elms” recommends it to have a forked foot
to keep it from twisting, and a notch in it to prevent the
stretcher slipping down. The slanting stick has a notch cut in it
half an inch from its upper end to receive the top of the
upright, while its lower end is shaved off to fit in a notch in
the upper surface of the front of the stretcher. Lastly, the
stretcher has this notch in front, and another notch cut in its
side by which it is caught by the upright and held in its
place.

A bait being tied to the external end of the stretcher, and a
stone placed so that it will lie flat on the ground, the whole is
ready for setting, which is effected as follows: Raise the stone,
and support it by the notched end of the slanting stick held in
the left hand, the notch itself looking downwards, then place the
upright with one end on the ground and the other in this notch,
and let it carry the weight of the stone, which will have a
tendency to tilt up the slanting stick still held down by the
left hand; finally, hitch the middle notch of the stretcher in
the upright, with its front notch facing upwards, then bring the
lower end of the slanting stick down to this front notch, drop it
in, and the trap is set. Of course, it requires that each part
shall be carefully adapted to the others, but when the trap is
seen set it will be readily understood, practice being, however,
required to set it properly.

I quite agree with “High Elms” that the footed upright is an
improvement; but I am inclined to doubt the advantage of the
double notch between the upright and the stretcher. I have tried
both, and I cannot find that there is any great superiority in
his plan; but, perhaps, though I have exactly followed his
directions as given in the Field, I may have omitted some point
of practical importance. In setting the Figure of 4 trap, the
height of the upright and the size and weight of the stone will
be proportioned to the animal for which it is set. I do not like
the trap myself, as it cannot be concealed so well as the steel
trap, and, indeed, has no advantage except in cheapness. Dozens
of them may be set in the woods, and if stolen little harm is
done, as the cost is barely a penny apiece if made in large
numbers. I have also known pheasants caught by the head and
killed in them, the flesh with which they are baited being often
attractive to tame-bred birds, which usually are fed with more or
less of it in their rearing.

Mr. G. S. Purden has informed
me that he has succeeded in capturing birds alive with this trap
by hollowing out the ground where the stone falls.

Another “deadfall” for taking capercailzie in Norway is
described by Mr. Yarnell in his “British Birds”:

“Where the trees grow
thickly on either side of a footpath, two long pieces of wood are
placed across it; one end of these rests on the ground, the other
being raised a foot and a half, or somewhat more, from the
surface, and supported by a piece communicating with a triangular
twig, placed in the centre of the path, and so contrived that on
being slightly touched the whole fabric falls; a few stones are
usually placed upon the long pieces of wood to increase the
rapidity of the drop by the additional weight. Birds running
along the footpath attempt to pass beneath the barrier, strike
the twig, and are killed by the fall of the trap.”

Taking birds by means of
bird-lime is my next consideration. Bird-lime is made either from
boiled oil or from holly-bark, but the making of it is not “worth
the candle,” it being so easily bought from any professional
bird-catcher.

To those who wish to make their own, I commend the following:
Take half a pint of linseed oil and put it into an old pot, or
any vessel that will stand the fire without breaking. The vessel
should not be more than one-third full. Place it over a slow fire
and stir it until it thickens as much as required. This can be
ascertained by cooling the stick in water and trying if it will
stick to the fingers. When sufficiently boiled, pour into cold
water, and it will be found ready for use.

I have submitted the foregoing to a practical birdcatcher and
maker of bird-lime, and he has “passed” it as correct, only
adding that the oil takes somewhere about four hours to slowly
boil before it becomes sufficiently tenacious for use. Holly-bark
he does not believe in, as he says it takes too long to make; but
that is no reason why we should pass over bird-lime made from
this substance. The “Encyclopaedia Britannica” says:

“It is usually
prepared by boiling holly-bark ten or twelve hours, and when-the
green coat is separated from the other it is covered up for a
fortnight in a moist place; then pounded into a rough paste, and
washed in a running stream till no motes appear. It is next put
up to ferment for four or five days, and repeatedly skimmed. To
prepare it for use, a third part of nut oil or thin grease must
be incorporated with it over the fire.”

Bird-lime can also be made from
many other plants, but the best quality is made by either of the
two methods mentioned above.

The “Edinburgh Encyclopaedia” says further that —

When bird-lime is
about to be applied to use, it should be made hot, and the rods
or twigs should be warmed a little before they be dipped in it.
Where straws and cords are to be limed it should be very hot, and
after they are prepared they should be kept in a leather bag till
used. In order to prevent bird-lime from being congealed by cold,
it should be mixed with a little oil of petroleum; and, indeed,
before the common kind can be used at all, it must be melted over
the fire with a third part of nut oil or any thin grease, if that
has not been added in the preparation.

The smaller kinds of birds are frequently taken with
bird-lime, which is one of the most eligible modes in frost or
snow, when all sorts of small birds assemble in flocks, and which
may be used in various ways. Put the bird-lime into an earthen
dish, with the addition of one ounce of fresh lard to every
quarter-pound of bird-lime, and melt the whole gently over the
fire. Take a quantity of wheat ears, with a foot of the straw
attached to thorn, and, having warmed the lime, that it may
spread the thinner, lime about six inches of the straw from the
bottom of the ears. Scatter a little chaff and thrashed ears over
a compass of twenty yards; stick the limed straws into the
ground, with the ears inclining downwards, or even touching the
surface; traverse the adjoining places in order to disturb the
birds, and make them fly towards the snare, and, by pecking at
the ears of corn, they will become so entangled with the limed
straw as to be easily taken by the hand.

The lime may also be applied to cords, rods, and twigs,
especially when it is intended to entangle the larger birds, such
as snipes and fieldfares, and for this purpose the following mode
may be adopted: Take the main branch of any bushy tree, with
long, straight, and smooth twigs, such as the willow or birch,
clear the twigs from every notch and prickle, lime the branches
to within four fingers of the bottom, leaving the main bough from
which the others rise untouched by the composition, and then
place the bush where the birds resort. For small birds two to
three hundred single twigs, about the thickness of a rush and
three inches in length, may be stuck in sheaves of flag and
corn.

In hot and dry weather the twigs may be placed around the
rivulets, ditches, and pools to which the birds come for drink,
covering the waters at the same time with brushwood, so that they
can have no access to quench their thirst, except at the spot
where the twigs are fixed. For this purpose the rods or twigs
should be about a foot in length, limed to within two inches of
the thickest end, which is stuck into the bank in such a manner
that they may lie within two fingers’ breadth of the ground, and
as the birds do not alight at once upon the place where they are
to drink, but gradually descend from the higher trees to the
lower, thence to the bushes, and lastly to the bank, it is useful
to fix a few branches about a fathom from the water in a sloping
direction, with a few lime twigs fastened upon them on which the
birds will as frequently be caught as on those which are placed
nearer to the water. The best time for this sport is from ten to
eleven in the forenoon, from two to three in the afternoon, and
about an hour before sunset, when the birds come to the watering
places in flocks before they retire to roost.

The application of bird-lime is
of ancient origin, and is practised in many countries. Pennant
gives an account of how to take Small birds by liming twigs
around a stuffed or tethered live owl. I have heard of this plan
being adopted, but have not tried it myself. From the curious
manner in which small birds usually mob an owl, I should fancy it
would succeed.

According to Folkard’s “Wildfowler:”

“There was also a
method much in vogue previously to the invention and discovery of
decoys, of taking wild fowl with lime strings made of packthread
or string, knotted in various ways and besmeared with birdlime;
these were set in rows about fens, moors, and other feeding
haunts of the birds, an hour or two before morning or evening
twilight. This plan was to procure a number of small stakes,
about 2 ft. in length, sharpened to a point at the nether end,
and forked at the upper. These were pricked out in rows about a
yard or two apart, some being placed in a slanting direction, and
each stake siding one with another, within convenient distances
of 4 yds. or 5 yds., so as to bear up the strings, which were
laid upon the crutches, and placed loosely about 18 in. above the
ground. The lime strings were thus drawn from stake to stake in
various directions, and lightly placed between the forks at the
top of the stakes, some rows being higher than others; and in
this manner the whole space occupied by the stakes was covered
with lime strings, as if carefully laid in wave-like coils, or
placed in different directions, the ends being secured to the
stakes with slip-knots, so that upon a light strain the whole of
any string which might be touched by the bird became instantly
loose, and, sticking to the feathers, the more it struggled to
free itself, so much the more the string twisted about it, and
thus the bird was quickly entangled, and became an easy prey. In
this manner numbers of wild fowl of the largest species were
taken at night at the moment of sweeping over the ground at very
slow flight, just before alighting; and it would appear that this
method of fowling was particularly successful in taking plovers,
which generally alight on the ground thickly congregated
together.

A similar method was employed for taking wild fowl with lime
strings placed over the surface of rivers and ponds frequented by
those birds, and apparently with remarkable success. For this
purpose it was necessary to procure a waterproof bird-lime
wherewith to dress the strings, which were knotted in a similar
manner to those employed for taking birds on land. The strings so
prepared were in serpentine coils from stake to stake, the stakes
being forked at the top, and of similar form to those last
described, but of sufficient length to reach the bottom of the
water and obtain a firm fixing in the mud. Some of the stakes
were placed on the banks of the water or in any manner so that
the lime strings could be drawn across and about the surface in
different directions, resting here and there on some or other of
the stakes or any boughs or overhanging trees, in such a way that
the birds, when in the act of alighting on the water at night,
might strike against the lime strings and become therein
entangled.

The principal secret of success in this and the preceding
device was that of placing the lime strings in shaded places over
the most assured haunts of the birds; and it was only obtainable
on dark nights, or in good shade, for whenever there was
sufficient light for the birds to see the least sign of the snare
spread for them the fowler had no chance of making any captives.
(And be sure to take this caution not to use these strings in
moonshine nights, for the shadow of the line will create a
jealousy in the fowl, and so frustrate your sport.) And as
wildfowl in their descent, just before alighting on the water,
diverge from their accustomed angular figure, and spread
themselves more in a broad front line, a whole flight sometimes
comes swooping into the fowler’s snare all at once.”

A method of trapping, with the
assistance of bird-lime, might, I think, be tried with some
chance of success. It is to insert a piece of fish in a cone of
paper well smeared with bird-lime, and to throw down a few of
these prepared cones in places accessible to gulls, herons, and
such birds, who, in attempting to seize the fish, would be
effectually hoodwinked, and thus easily secured.

Hawking, by which birds are captured by trained falcons, is of
the highest antiquity. Pennant mentions that the Saxon King
Ethelbert (who died in 760) sent to Germany for a cast of falcons
to fly at cranes (herons?). As this sport has now fallen into
disuse, I must refer my readers for particulars to Blaine,
Daniel, Freeman, Harting, Captain Dugmore, and to occasional
articles by one or two modern falconers in the columns of the
Field.

The infinite variety of nets used in the capture of various
birds requires almost a chapter by itself; but it will suffice
for the present one if we mention those most generally used, or
the most striking varieties. First, then, comes the ordinary
“clap-net” of the London and provincial bird-catchers. The
“Edinburgh Encyclopaedia” says, with regard to clap-nets:

“Birds are also taken
with nets during the day, and especially in those seasons of the
year when they change their situation; in the month of October,
for instance, when the wild birds begin to fly, and in March,
when the smaller kinds assemble for pairing. They are chiefly on
the wing from daybreak to noon, and always fly against the wind.
The birdcatchers, therefore, lay their nets towards that point to
which the wind blows. The nets employed in this way are generally
12.5 yds. long and 2.5 yds. wide, and are spread on the ground
parallel to each other, in such a manner as to meet when turned
over. They are provided with lines, fastened in such a way that,
by a sudden pull, the birdcatcher is able to draw them over the
birds that may have alighted in the space between those parallel
sides. In order to entice the wild birds to alight amongst the
nets, call birds are employed, of which there must be one or two
of each of the different kinds which are expected to be caught,
such as linnets, goldfinches, greenfinches, etc.. Besides the
call birds there are others denominated flur birds, which are
placed upon a moveable perch within the net, called a flur, and
which can be raised or depressed at pleasure, and these are
secured to the flur by means of a brace or bandage of slender
silk strongly fastened round the body of the bird. The call birds
are deposited in cages at a little distance from the nets, and as
soon as they see or hear the approach of the wild birds, which
they perceive long before it can be observed by the birdcatcher,
they announce the intelligence from cage to cage with the
greatest appearance of joy, and they proceed to invite them to
alight by a succession of notes or short jerks, as they are
termed by the birdcatcher, which may often be heard at a
considerable distance. The moment that the call is heard by the
wild birds they stop their flight and descend towards the net,
and so great is the ascendancy and fascination of the call birds
that they can induce the others to return repeatedly to the nets
till every bird in the flock be caught.”

Being somewhat afraid that this
description would not meet all the practical requirements of the
case, and knowing myself but little or nothing of this mode of
birdcatching, I thought it advisable to interview a practical
man. Having at last succeeded in capturing a specimen of the
genus homo, species birdcatcher, I prevailed upon him (through
the medium of a tip) to impart his stock of birdcatching lore,
and to cut me patterns of play-sticks and pegs, and also to
correct my rough sketches when necessary.

The sum and substance of my interview is as follows: The nets,
which are of two pieces, are each about twelve yards long by
two-and-a-half yards wide, and are made with a three-quarter mesh
of what is technically called two-thread. The staves at each end,
to which the nets are permanently attached, are made of red deal,
ferruled and jointed at the middle, in the manner of a fishing
rod, for the convenience of carriage. The length of each when put
together is about five feet six inches, being thus shorter than
the width of the net. This, it will be readily observed, allows
for the bagging of the net — an important particular, as,
if the nets were strained tight with no allowance made for
bagging, the birds would flutter along the ground until they got
out at one end or the other. As it is, they roll themselves up in
the meshes, and effectually entangle themselves while attempting
to escape.

A strong line, called the top line, made of clock line, passes
the whole length of each net, and is protracted some feet past
the staves at either end. A similar line runs along the bottom
made of three-thread or whip thread. This is called the bottom
line. There are then two unattached cords of some strength,
called the pull line and the forked line, which latter is
attached, when required for use, to the two staves nearest the
birdcatcher, at the intersection of the top line.

Eight pegs are used, made of hard wood, generally ash, four of
which are called the “chief pegs.” The whole of the pegs are
notched, for the convenience of attaching a line.

The method of laying the clap-net is best described with the
aid of a drawing (vide Fig. 5).

The first thing to be done is to lay down the right-hand net,
and to drive in the two chief pegs where shown, namely, at the
bottom of the staves, to which they are attached by a loop of
strong cord, acting as a hinge. The two end pegs are then driven
in the ground at some little distance from and in an exact line
to the chief pegs. The bottom line is then made fast at each end,
as also the continuation of the top line. The two pegs, lines,
and staff thus forma triangle at each end. The other net is then
laid in such a manner that when both are pulled over, one net
shall overlap the other to the extent of six inches. It is then
turned back and pegged down in the same way as the right-hand
net. The next operation is to tie the forked line to each top end
of the staves, a nick being cut in each for this purpose.

Exactly in the centre of the forked line the pull line is
knotted, at the other end of which the birdcatcher stands at
varying distances, according to the bird he wishes to catch; for
instance, for linnets or goldfinches, thirty to forty yards; for
starlings a greater distance is required; or to capture these
wary birds a better plan is to place the nets in one field while
you retire into another, bringing the pull line through an
intervening hedge.

Cages containing birds are dispersed about on the outer edges
of the nets, the best, or call birds, being placed farther away;
in fact, my informant thinks that if all the cages were placed a
moderate distance away from the nets it would be better, as he
has found that the usual red or green cages have been the means
of “bashing “–i.e., frightening — the wild birds
away from the nets.

Fig. 5 —
PLAN AND METHOD OF SETTING CLAP-NET.

“When doctors differ, who shall decide?”

On mentioning the above to another birdcatcher he gave a huge
snort of dissatisfaction, and roundly swore that my man knew
“nought about it,” for he always set his cages as near the
nets as possible; “for don’t it stand to reason,” quoth he, “that
if you set your cages fur away, your ‘call birds’ will ‘tice the
wild ‘uns down round ’em? an’ they won’t come near your
nets.”

An important actor in the performance is the “play-bird,”
which is a bird braced by a peculiar knot or “brace,” as shown in
Fig. 6, on an arrangement called the play-stick.

The “play-stick” is resolvable into three parts, Fig. 7 being
the ground peg, formed of a piece of hard wood about six inches
long, having a round hole bored through close to the top, through
which the “play-line” passes. Immediately underneath is a square
slot for the reception of a piece of brass tube beaten flat at
one end (Fig. 8), while the other end is left open for the
reception of the “play-stick” (C, Fig. 9), simply a rough twig or
piece of hard wood, upon which the bird is tied by the “brace”
(Fig. 6) — which is constructed, as shown in drawing, by
doubling a piece of string, tying a knot in the centre and then
joining the ends. The head and body of the bird is thrust
through, so that a loop catches it on each side and in front of
the wings, the legs and tail being thrust through the other, one
loop coming on each side of the body behind the wings. A swivel
is attached at one of the knots, and, by another piece of string,
is made fast to the play-stick near its end. The bird is thus
perfectly free so far as the wings and legs are concerned.

Fig. 6, 7 &
8 — “Play-stick” parts

The “play-stick,” as a whole, is represented in Fig. 9, which
shows the bird in repose, with the end of the stick (C) resting
on the ground, the play-line passing through a hole in the ground
peg (A), while the part marked B works in the slot in the
same.

A little food and water are put down by the play-bird’s side,
to which it addresses itself in its intervals of rest. Directly
birds appear, the play-line is smartly pulled, which has the
effect of jerking the play-bird upwards, while at the same time
it flutters its wings to regain its perch. This motion is
mistaken by the wild birds as a natural proceeding; they
accordingly alight around the play-bird, to assist it in feeding.
The pull-line of the net is then smartly jerked, which causes the
forked-line to fly inwards, and, acting on the hinged pegs and
top and bottom lines as by a lever, the staves rise from the
outside, become perpendicular, and finally fall over, inclosing
all within the open space in the nets.

Fig. 9 —
“FLUR” OR “PLAY-STICK.”

The “Play-bird” is always placed on the left hand of the
birdcatcher, about two yards into the net. Sometimes more than
one play-stick and bird are used; all are, however, played by the
same string. The best birds are, however, contrary to my
expectations, not used, as the constant pulling up and down, to
say nothing of the worry of the falling nets, very soon kills the
poor little “play-bird.” From Michaelmas to Christmas would
appear to be the best times for catching.

Many rare birds not calculated on by the operator, are
procured in this way. I allude to hawks, which constantly dash at
the call, or play-birds, of the netsman. I remember seeing, taken
in a lark net on the racecourse of Corfu — one of the
Ionian Isles — a most beautiful male specimen of the hen
harrier (Circus cyaneus, Macg.); and here in England I
have received, within the last few years, one great grey shrike
(Lanus excubitor, L.), four or five hobby hawks (Falco
subbuteo, L.), a dozen or more merlins (Falco oesalon,
Tunstall), and a great number of sparrowhawks, and kestrels, all
captured by this method.

Draw-nets are those used by fen-men and others at night for
taking lark, snipe, plover, etc.., by dragging a long net of a
certain construction over the fields and swamps. The actual
originator of this method of capture as applied to snipe and such
birds, appears to have been Mr. Daniel himself (vide “Rural
Sports,” vol. 3, p. 179).

Glade nets, which are nets stretched in narrow glades or
ridings in woods from tree to tree, are used chiefly for taking
night-flying birds, such as woodcocks, or wild ducks. Folkard
thus describes their use:

“The proceedings
connected with the use of glade nets appear to be very simple.
These nets are of lengths and breadths proportioned to the places
in which they are suspended. They are simply pieces of fine
thread netting, edged with cords adapted to the extent of the
lint. The glade net so formed is suspended between two trees,
directly in the track of the woodcock’s flight. Both the upper
and lower corners have each a rope attached to them which, as
regards the upper part of the net, is rove through sheaves, iron
rings, or thimbles fastened to the trees on either side at the
top of the glade at a moderate height, varying from ten to twelve
or fifteen feet. The falls of the two upper ropes are joined or
so adjusted that they form a bridge, to the central part of which
a rope is attached of several yards in length, which the fowler
holds in his hand in a place of concealment, and thus commands
full power over the net, being able to drop it down suddenly and
intercept the flight of any birds which may attempt to escape
through the glade; or he can draw it up as suddenly from the
ground to a perpendicular position. A stone, of about 5 lb.
weight, is attached to each of the lower cords of the net, so
that when the fowler lets go his controlling rope the weight of
the stones forces the lower part of the net down in an instant
with a strong fall, and, at the same time, they draw up the upper
part of the net. The fowler having stationed himself in such a
position as to command a full view of the glade in which his net
is placed, beaters are employed to flush the cocks from their
retreats; immediately on one or more flying in the direction of
the fowler a signal is given, and just as the bird approaches the
net it is suddenly let down or drawn up, when the woodcock,
flying forcibly against it, is immediately ensnared. The instant
the birds have struck the net the fowler lets go another rope,
which is generally looped to a stake within reach of his arm, and
the whole net, with the birds entangled, then drops to the
ground. In forcing themselves forward in their endeavour to
escape they form the net into a sort of bag, which makes their
capture more certain.”

Nets are in some parts of the
world set under water to procure wild fowl. I remember, when in
Norfolk, a gannet being brought in by one of the fishing boats;
the bird had become accidentally entangled in one of the nets
whilst attempting to rob-it of some fish.

Small nets of a few yards long, made of fine black silk, with
a small mesh, are used in some parts of the country for taking
kingfishers. These nets are stretched across a small watercourse
or the arch of a bridge in such a manner that, a little “slack”
being allowed, the bird is taken to a certainty in attempting to
pass. So fatal is this net when skilfully set, that I know one
man who adds several pounds to his income in the course of a year
by taking kingfishers in this manner.

For the netting of hawks by a contrivance called the bow net,
which was formerly used in England, see Blaine’s “Encyclopaedia
of Rural Sports.”

Many birds (notably sea and rock birds) are to be procured by
descending the rocks attached to a stout line. But this highly
dangerous work had better not be attempted by the tyro. For an
ancient but interesting account of rock fowling in the Orkneys,
see Pennant’s “Arctic Zoology,” page 29. The same system is still
adopted on many parts of the coast. In fact, I recollect (when
some years ago I visited the Isle of Wight on a collecting
expedition) seeing two men with ropes and an iron bar going to
the top of the “Bench” (a famous place for sea fowl), and while
one man was let down over the edge of the cliff his fellow
remained at the top to answer the pull of the “bird-line” and
look after the safety of the “man-rope” and iron bar. So
fascinating did this appear to me that, having been “between
heaven and earth” once or twice before, I volunteered to “go
below;” but I found that the fowlers did not care for the risk,
or the loss of time, and booty, involved in letting an amateur
down.

It was, indeed, a wonderful sight. I crept as closely as I
dared, and lying on my breast looked over the cliff. Hundreds of
feet down, the sea, lashed into breakers by the breeze, crept up
the steep black rock walls, or tumbled over the half-hidden
crags; and yet, though you could see the white war of waters, but
the faintest murmur of this battle between land and sea could be
heard — below and halfway up, the puffins and guillemots
were sitting in rows, or flying off in droves as little black
specks on the white foam.

Here I learned that they often baited fish-hooks with offal or
pieces of fish, for the purpose of catching the gulls, and this
brought to my mind the quantities of robins, thrushes, and such
birds I had seen caught by fish-hooks baited with worms and
pegged down in the olive groves of the Ionian Sea.

I notice that Pennant mentions that the lapwing is decoyed
into nets by the twirling of looking glass. I have seen exactly
the same thing myself on the Continent applied to the taking of
larks. A cylinder of wood, inlaid with pieces of looking-glass,
is fixed ‘between two uprights, and made to revolve by means of a
small crank and wheel, to which a line is attached. The netsman,
retiring to some little distance, keeps the cylinder in constant
motion by pulling the line, at the same time keeping up a soft
whistling noise with his mouth. The larks flutter over the
twirler, and seemingly dazzled, descend on the ground between the
nets which are then pulled over in the usual manner.

Steel traps are of many shapes and sizes, and are best
procured ready made from a good firm, though I have known a few
country blacksmiths who could turn them out decently. As everyone
knows this, the ordinary “gin,” or tooth trap, used for capturing
rats or other animals and birds, no description is, I think
necessary, further than to say that the springs should be highly
tempered, and that the teeth should not be too long. These traps
can be set in various places with or without baits — in the
water, on the ground, up a tree, or on a post; but post-traps
proper, which are chiefly useful, when set unbaited, for catching
hawks, are made with an arm and spring at right angles to the
plate, so that they may be fastened to the post which supports
them. In setting these traps great care and skill are necessary;
and in giving directions how to do this properly, I cannot do
better than quote “Stonehenge,” who says:

“First lay the trap on
the ground, then mark the outline of it, allowing half an inch
clear all round; out away the turf to this pattern, and in the
centre dig a hole deep enough to receive a strong peg and the
chain which fastens the trap to it, which will thus be entirely
concealed; drive in the peg, arrange the chain neatly upon this
and in the channel for the spring, and then set the trap in its
place, temporarily propping up the plate by a piece of twig,
which can finally be withdrawn by a string; take care so to out
away the turf that the jaws are only just below the level of the
ground. Having done this, cut a very thin slice of the turf which
was removed to make way for the trap, leaving little more than
the grass itself with a ragged edge, and lay this gently on the
plate, and withdraw the prop. Then cover the spring in the same
way; and, lastly, put some more shreds of grass or leaves over
the jaws themselves, but in such a way that the former will not
be caught between the teeth when the trap is sprung. When the
keeper can do all this so neatly that the trap cannot be
discovered by the eye at two or three yards distance, and yet
will be sprung by half an ounce weight being placed upon the
plate over and above what it has already, and without leaving
anything between the jaws, he may be considered a master of his
craft. All this should be done with strong leather gloves on the
hands, and with as little breathing over the trap as possible.
The object of these precautions is to avoid leaving any scent
behind, which might alarm the vermin, who are always suspicions
of any place where they have reason to believe man has been at
work.”

Daniel, in his “Rural Sports,”
says:

“Otters are taken in
an unbaited trap, for they reject every kind of bait, This trap
must be placed near his landing place, which will be found by
carefully examining the edges of rivers or ponds, either by his
spraints, his seal, or the remains of fish (for in whatever place
he eats his plunder he always leaves the tail or hinder parts of
the fish undevoured). The trap must be set in and covered with
mud to prevent his seeing it; the instant the trap “strikes,” the
otter plunges into the water with it, when its weight, preventing
his rising to the surface, soon destroys him. The trap will
seldom be drawn more than twenty yards from the spot, and with a
grappling iron is soon recovered. If the place where he comes out
of the water cannot be discovered, upon the ground where the
remains of fish are left, out a hole near the edge of the water,
and place a trap or two upon a level with the ground and cover it
over carefully with moss.”

This aqueous method of
trapping, is also recommended for taking all birds of the crow
tribe. The bait in this case is an egg, so secured that on the
bird walking along a prepared pathway to seize the delicacy he
springs a concealed trap, and fluttering into deep water drowns
by the weight of the attachment.

Another method of setting the trap on land for the taking of
some animals, which, says Daniel, speaking of the marten (now a
rare animal in most parts of England), is a sure way of catching
this destructive little animal in a park or covert which is
railed in, is to cut a groove in some of the posts or gate posts,
in which set an unbaited steel trap, and as they constantly run
along the posts and pales early in the morning to dry themselves,
in leaping up from the ground upon the place where the trap is
set, they are sure to be captured.

Fish is recommended as bait for weasels, polecats, etc..,
although I think the best way of trapping such animals is to form
an enclosure of brushwood, etc.., in which peg down some live
bird, leading two narrow pathways from it from each end and
exactly opposite each other, in each of which place an ordinary
steel trap, unbaited, concealed in as skilful a manner as
possible. The animal running along one of these pathways, to
seize his prey, is inevitably trapped. Be sure and have two
openings, or this plan will not succeed. Cats may be trapped in
this manner.

St. John, in his “Highland Sports,” mentions that if a wild
cat, or fox, can be killed, and the body placed in the usual
haunts of its kind, well surrounded with traps, curiosity or some
such feeling will impel them to visit the “dear departed,” and in
walking round they often succeed in springing the traps, and
remaining as mourners in a fashion they did not intend.

Hawks may be trapped by first capturing their young, and
pegging one or more to the ground, and surrounding it or them by
concealed traps. This cruel but highly effective way succeeds by
reason of the old birds seeing or hearing their young, and
attempting to release them.

If part of a bird or animal killed by a hawk can be found, a
good plan is to allow it to remain, surrounding it also with
concealed traps, as they usually return to finish their meal, and
that sometimes after the lapse of days.

The “box trap” is used for catching many animals for which the
ordinary gin is used; but the advantage which it possesses over
the latter is that it captures all animals alive, which, in the
case of a hare or a rabbit accidentally getting in, is of
consequence, as it may be released unhurt, whereas the ordinary
steel trap, if accidentally sprung by them, would have killed or
maimed them to a certainty. These box traps can be bought
ready-made at many places; but, for those who wish to make one
themselves, I must refer them for plans and description to Col.
Hawker, or “Stonehenge.” Almost anything does to bait a gin or
box trap with — bits of flesh, fish, offal, half-cooked red
herrings, etc.. — and it is a generally understood thing
that if half-putrid flesh or entrails of any animal are rubbed
over traps or the thorns or bushes placed as entrances to traps,
hares and the like will seldom go near.

Of course, a very small trap must be used for small birds, and
baited either with seeds, bread, worms, or a small piece of fat
meat, which latter is a most tempting bait for the birds of the
genus Parus (titmice).

There are several other made traps, such as the trap cage; the
best of which has a bird as a decoy partitioned off from the
actual trap. This is a useful little trap in some seasons, and is
well known, being easily procurable at any of the bird
fanciers’.

Mr. James Hiam, well known in Worcestershire for his “Notes on
Natural History,” sends me the following description of his
method of trapping bullfinches:

“I find the best way
to trap bullfinches is to procure a caged bird, also what is
known as a trap-cage, putting the tame bird in the lower part,
placing a bunch of blackberries or privet berries in the top
part; and hanging the cage against a wall or tree out of the
reach of cats. I have reserved a stook of bunches of blackberries
by inserting their stems in water, grape-fashion, for a
succession of food for bait. I have also caught scores, if not
hundreds, on bird-lime, but this injures their plumage and is
somewhat troublesome, especially to anyone not accustomed to
handle it. I have also caught them in a bat fowling net at night
out of thick hedges. I find a trap cage or cages best, for
bullfinches generally go in small parties, and I have taken two
out at once from two separate cages, while others waited round
and were caught afterwards.

The well-known and easily imitated call of the bullfinch at
this season of the year (autumn) appears to have a greater
attraction — for what reason I cannot say — than at
any other period; there is also a great difference in individual
call birds. The best should be selected. When fresh caught,
bullfinches are best placed in a low kind of box cage about six
inches deep, with wires only on one side. Such cage may be easily
made out of a soap box from the grocer’s, giving them a good
supply of canary and hemp seed and water. If they refuse to eat
the seed, which sometimes happens, give a few blackberries or
such other food as they feed on at the time; the seed of the dock
is always a favourite dish in the winter, and the probability is
in a day or two they will take to the seed, which should be
strewed over the bottom of the cage.”

The nightingale trap (perhaps
not quite so well known) is a compromise between the bow net and
the spring trap; it is useful for taking most insectivorous
birds, is easily made by anyone possessing a little mechanical
ability, and is to be bought cheaply at most of the bird shops.
As I have been asked, however, by many correspondents in the
country, where such things are to be procured, they are informed
that in the classic retreat of the Seven Dials — that is to
say, in the street running through from Charing Cross to
Bloomsbury — are to be found many bird fanciers’ shops
where the nightingale trap can be procured for something under a
couple of shillings.

In setting all of these traps be sure to touch them with the
hands as little as possible, especially if setting a baited trap.
Gloves are recommended to be worn, scented with musk when baiting
for stoats, weasels, etc.., and with vervain or valerian if
baiting for cats.

I will proceed now to the consideration of decoys. Decoys are
of two classes, fixed and mechanical, or those easily removable
and natural. Of the former the most important is what is called a
decoy for wild fowl, viz., a large tract of land and water
specially fitted up with nets of the sorts most suitable for
taking ducks and similar birds, and near which it is unlawful to
fire a gun. For a thoroughly exhaustive and interesting article
on decoy ponds, see Folkard’s “Wild Fowler,” pp. 44-94.

Some singular and highly original methods of catching birds
are described by ancient and modern authors. Pennant, in his
“Arctic Zoology,” vol. ii, page 550, describes a quaint but
doubtful method of decoying wild geese in Siberia; he also, at
page 311, records how immense numbers of willow grouse are taken
by a curious mode of netting.

Folkard also mentions an ingenious way of capturing wild fowl
in their own element by the aid of calabashes. This, however, I
think, “must be seen to be believed,” though I am bound to
confess that it is partly corroborated by other writers.

Of the lasso or the “bolas,” used in South America for
capturing certain animals and birds, no description need be
given, as this method of trapping is only to be performed by a
person trained from childhood to ride and throw the lasso. The
same remark applies to the use of the blowpipe (see Bates’s
“Amazons”), and the Australian “boomerang” and “throwstick.”

Regarding the use of the blowpipe, I see that an American
author on Taxidermy, who has written a very good book on the
subject — albeit he has, perhaps unwittingly, cribbed my
title of “Practical Taxidermy” — appears to have attained
remarkable proficiency in the use of this weapon, and describes
also his method of making it, thus:

“The blowpipe is of
great service for collecting warblers and other small birds. It
should be made by encasing a long glass tube in wood, to prevent
breaking. The ordinary glass tubes used by glass-blowers make
good blowpipes, which should have a diameter of 0.5 in. and be
not less than 6 ft. long.

To encase a pipe with wood, take two strips of
straight-grained pine, and plane or “gouge” out a half-round
groove the full length of each, glue them together, and wire
firmly over the glass pipe. When the glue is dry, remove the
wires, and plane the wood round until it has a diameter of 1.5
in.; if smaller it will sag, and not do good shooting. Putty
balls should be used, and blown with a quick puff, which is
easily acquired by practice. The putty is thickened with whiting
until the pellets will roll hard, but they should not be dry
enough to crumble.

With this novel gun I have killed as many as fifty-six
warblers in less than a day, and spoiled but few specimens in
killing.”

Rowland Ward, also, in his
“Sportsman’s Handbook,” appears to favour the use of the
blowpipe, and very correctly says at page 9:

“The implement is so
simple and so easily constructed that the price of it is
inappreciable. About 3 ft. length of any straight metal or wooden
tubing, 0.75 in. diameter, through which a pellet the size of a
marble may be thrown, will serve well, but an even longer tube
may be chosen. The pellet should be of clay or any putty, rolled
in the hand to easily pass through the barrel without too much
windage. It should not touch the mouth, but be lightly placed
just in the orifice, by stopping which with the thumb the tube
can be conveniently carried loaded, muzzle up, ready for the most
rapid use. To propel the pellet the puff must be sudden and
powerful. There is a proper way of effecting this. When a
practitioner first begins to use the blow-pipe, it is a common
error to eject the breath only direct from the lungs; he should
acquire the habit of inflating his cheeks, so as to make a
storage of wind, as it were, for each shot; that, added to the
breath from the lungs, gives a force which will sometimes
astonish him. The hand follows the eye in aim, and practice will
often develop unthought-of proficiency.”

The catapult is also a
first-rate weapon in a skilful hand for procuring small birds. I
must confess I cannot use it as well as some young friends of
mine, who knock over nearly every sitting bird they aim at, and
even now and then are successful with such difficult shots as at
swallows on the wing; a novice, on the contrary, nearly always
succeeds in stinging his fingers and missing the object aimed
at.

I remember also, when a boy, using a very effective weapon,
which I should describe as a catapult gun. It was, if I recollect
aright, fashioned similarly to a cross bow, the bolt, however,
from which was ejected from a little wash-leather bag by means of
very powerful India-rubber springs, which being released by a
trigger delivered a bullet or small shot from a tube with amazing
force and precision. I do not know if such guns are made now, but
I should imagine that anyone with a little ingenuity could
construct one for himself.

All these appliances, with the well-known air-gun, are chiefly
of use for collecting the smaller birds with a minimum of noise.
There are several small collecting guns made which do the work
required in a much more thorough manner. Messrs. Bland,
gun-makers, of Birmingham, some time since showed me an elegant
little double-barrelled central fire gun, which seems to be just
the thing for the purpose. Messrs. Clarke, of Leicester, also
make a small single-barrelled central fire .410-bore collector’s
gun, but as before observed, they are only fit for small birds at
short ranges.

I have lately procured a small walking-stick gun .410-bore,
central fire, with a removeable stock, which I have found of
great service in collecting small birds — bringing down
swifts and swallows flying, at moderate ranges.

Many birds, especially males, in the breeding season, are
taken by decoying them into nets or snares by tame or wild birds
of the opposite sex; in fact, advantage was wont to be taken of
the pugnacity or devotion of the Ruffes when “hilling,” by
previously setting springes or nets on their battle-ground, into
which said snares they danced, when courting or fighting (see
Daniel, vol. U, p. 212).

Poachers also sometimes take cock pheasants by bringing an
armed gamecock into the woods and hiding themselves, while the
domesticated bird challenges and gives battle to the unarmed wild
one. The boldness of cock pheasants during their breeding time is
wonderful; many instances having come under my notice of wild
pheasants coming from the woods to do battle with aviary ones,
and also with farm-yard “roosters.”

A highly interesting account of the ludicrous actions and
insensibility to fear of the capercailzie, and blackgame, when
courting (and through which they are easily shot), is given by a
writer on Norway in the Field of March 27, 1875; and this brings
us to the greatest of all aids for the procuring of specimens
— I mean the shot-gun and rifle. So much of success depends
upon being a clever marksman, and also upon having a good general
knowledge of woodcraft, that although for instructions in guns
and shooting I refer the reader to Col. Hawker, Daniel, Blaine,
“Stonehenge,” Folkard, Greener, “Wildfowler,” and many others,
yet a few words on some peculiar, and in some cases well-known,
methods of decoying birds within gunshot, may not be out of
place.

The stalking-horse was, no doubt, the earliest decoy or shield
under which the ancient fowler got near his birds with the
crossbow or gun. It was sometimes a mere framework of wood,
covered with painted canvas to represent a horse or cow, or was a
real animal trained to feed and move in a natural manner in the
midst of the fowl. In the first instance, the fowler carried the
framework in front of him, and made his shot through an opening;
in the second case he gently urged the animal on, hiding behind,
and making his shot under the belly, or over the back. For
ancient methods of stalking, see Gervase Markham; for a modern
method, see “Bustard Shooting in Spain,” in the Country of Jan.
21, 1875, and current pages of the Field.

Decoying birds by imitating their notes or cries is an art
which the collector must acquire. Many mechanical calls for wood
pigeons, curfews, and other birds are made. One call, which I do
not think is made or used in England, is a Greek idea for
decoying thrashes. It is a whistle formed from two discs of thin
silver or silvered copper, each the size of, or a little smaller
than, a “graceless” florin, or say an inch across; those discs
are — one fully concave, and the other slightly convex,
both have a hole in the centre and are soldered together by their
edges in the manner shown in Fig. 10. [Footnote: Since
writing this I find there are now sold to boys, for the large sum
of one-halfpenny, whistles formed in tin, of almost similar
construction to those described. I never yet found anyone to make
them “speak” properly; boys not knowing how to modulate or
inspire the breath. I have now tried one of them against
my silver whistle, and I cannot say which has the better
tone.]

Fig. 10 —
DECOY WHISTLE FOR THRUSHES, etc..

The concave part is placed in the mouth, pressing against the
teeth, and by inspiring the breath and modulating the tones with
the closed or open hands, as the case may be, a very perfect
imitation of the song-thrush’s note is the result. This, the
arriving or newly-arrived birds hear, and, imagining it proceeds
from the throat of one of their species, who, entirely at his
ease, is letting the ornithological world know how excessively
overjoyed he is at his safe arrival, alight in the trees which
surround and conceal the treacherous imitator, and quickly fall a
prey to the ready gun. So infatuated are they, that enormous
quantities are killed by this method early in the season; in
fact, I knew one person who shot one hundred and four, besides
other birds, to his own gun in one day.

Quails may be called from a distance if the sportsman hides
himself and imitates with his mouth their peculiar cry, “More
wet, more wet.”

There are many other birds which come to call in addition to
quail. Woodpigeons and doves will sometimes be attracted to an
ambush by making a soft cooing noise with the mouth and the
hollows of both hands, but the most successful way of procuring
both of these birds is to build a hut with boughs in the hedge of
a field to which they resort, in which hut the shooter hides
himself, keeping perfectly quiet, and not attempting to shoot
until the birds have begun feeding, as woodpigeons, or doves,
when they first alight “have their eyes all about them,” the
slight rustle even of the gun being brought to the present, is
enough to scare them, and a snap shot at a flying dove is rarely
successful when you are penned and cramped up in a little bough
hut. Pea, tare, and barley fields, when they are first sown in
the spring, and pea and corn fields, after getting in the crops
in the autumn, are their especial haunts, though they do not
despise turnip leaves and acorns.

Salt marshes are also especially favoured by all the pigeon
family in quest of salt, of which they seem to be inordinately
fond. Fresh water rivers in hot weather are also sure spots to
find them; and a stuffed pigeon is a good decoy in some seasons,
if placed in front of a place of concealment.

Perhaps it may be as well to mention that often, while lying
in wait for wild pigeons, you will observe the advent of one or
two tame ones, or even a flock from some neighbouring farmyard,
and, as some of these pigeons are almost certain to closely
resemble the wild stock dove (Columba oenas, L.), some
little discrimination is required to distinguish the two
species.

The Gannet or Solon goose (Sula bassana, Hewitson) is
said to be taken by the strange device of floating a plank out at
sea, to which a fish is attached, in such a manner that, on the
bird dashing down on the half-submerged plank, it strikes itself
with such violence as not unfrequently to break its neck or
breastbone. On mentioning this to Mr. Frederick Ryland, he
assured me that he has in some instances observed the marks of
the bird’s bill, which had indented the plank — a pretty
conclusive evidence of the extraordinary force of its
descent.

Many other birds besides pigeons are attracted by “stales,”
which was the ancient name for a representation of the living
bird by stuffed specimens or wooden images; knots and godwits,
says Daniel (vol. iii., p. 214), were attracted into nets by this
mode. Gulls and terns I have often found attracted by a stuffed
bird, or, when one can be shot, should it be left to lie on the
water, or propped up on land, as if alive, the others almost
always hover around it. Sheep’s lights thrown on the water is
another good decoy for gulls.

Ducks are sometimes attracted by dummies of indiarubber sold
at some of the shops for that purpose, but the best modification
of this is the French “hut system,” described at length, in his
usual amusing style, by the once-renowned Col. Hawker.

A more singular way still, of decoying these birds to the gun
is by the American fashion of “toling,” a lucid description of
which I append, culled from the pages of Folkard’s
“Wildfowler:”

“There is one system
of fowling practised in America which is as curious in
performance as it is interesting. It is probably one of the most
remarkable methods ever invented, and approaches the nearest to
the system of decoy as practised in England of any of the arts
employed by the people of a foreign country for the capture of
wildfowl. The method alluded to is termed “toling.” I am unable
to trace the origin of the term, unless it simply implies a death
knell, for such it assuredly assumes to those birds which
approach within range of the secreted sportsman.* This singular
proceeding is said to have been first introduced upwards of fifty
years ago near Havre-de-Grace, in Maryland; and, according to
traditional testimony, the art was accidentally discovered by a
sportsman whilst patiently lying in ambush watching a paddling of
wild ducks, which were a little beyond the range of his gun.
Whilst in a state of doubt and anxiety as to whether they would
approach near enough to be shot, he suddenly observed them raise
their heads and swim towards the shore apart from his ambuscade;
and, whilst wondering at the cause of so strange a proceeding,
his attention was directed to a fox which was skipping about on
the shore, and evidently enticing the ducks to approach. This
accidental discovery of so weak a point in the nature of the
feathered tribe led the sportsman to turn it to advantage, and
thence arose the curious art of “toling.” To practise it
successfully the sportsman requires simply the services of a dog,
which he uses in a similar way to that of a “piper,” employed at
an English decoy. [Footnote: The word “toling” may be
explained as a corruption of “tolling,” i.e.,
enticing.]

For the purpose of “toling,” the American sportsman erects
blinds or screens on the margin of some lake, the resort of
wildfowl; when any birds are in sight upon the water, he, with
his dog, takes up a position behind the screens, and by throwing
small bits of wood or pebbles up and down the shore, he keeps the
dog in active motion so as to attract the attention of the birds,
and induce them to swim towards the shore within a few yards of
the screens, when, if they do, the sportsman immediately
discharges his fowling piece at them, and sometimes kills large
numbers at a shot. The principal things to be observed are, a
strict silence, and to keep the dog constantly in motion, and all
the time in sight of the ducks. The little animal should be
encouraged to skip and bound over the rocks and stones in front
of the screens, and to flourish his tail about with playful
vivacity. He must never bark, for that would alarm the fowl and
cause them to fly away immediately.

Red or chestnut coloured dogs with long bushy tails are best
for the purpose of “toling”; the nearer they approach a fox in
colour and appearance the better.”

Tubs may be sunk on the
seashore into which the shooter gets at the approach of night (or
even a “skip” or basket may be used to sit on) to wait till
flight time to procure specimens; but having myself sat in a
marsh at night between a river and the sea in Norfolk more than
once for several hours during a very severe winter, I cannot
recommend this as a torrid amusement — indeed, the
melancholy “sough” of the sea, and the pale glitter of the stars
in the half-frozen pools, whose dead and dry sedges rustle in
unison to the icy blasts rushing from the dead white north, make
even the most hardy long for the old armchair by the cozy
fireside.

A writer in the Zoologist some years ago appeared to
think that iodine was a species of enchanter’s wand in rendering
your presence unknown to wildfowl. I have never tried it, having
but little faith in cunning nostrums concocted for the taking of
either birds or fish; but as he is a gentleman of standing and
great experience, I will quote his words from which I drew my
inference:

“A cormorant once
perched himself on my back as I lay concealed on a rock enveloped
in a drab driving coat, which so closely resembled the rock in
colour that even he was deceived, and, taking my back as the
highest pinnacle, accommodated himself accordingly; neither did
he discover his error till my hand grasped him by the legs. I
have frequently had cormorants and shags perched around me within
a few feet; but their suspicions seemed generally to be aroused
by human smell, unless I had rubbed iodine on some part of my
clothes.”

The landrail or corncrake,
whose peculiar rasping cry we hear in the grass or young corn in
the spring of the year, is easily called to the gun by rubbing
one notched bone over another, or, better still, using that
peculiar instrument of torture worked at fairs, and called a
“scratchback” — the same which, in the palmy days of
Greenwich or Charlton fairs, was retailed to the cry of “All the
fun of the fair for one penny”.

In bringing this chapter to a close, let me not omit to
mention that all shot birds should immediately have the mouth,
palatal slit, and nostrils, stopped with tow or cotton wool, to
prevent the blood from running out and soiling the feathers;
then, if possible, always wrap each specimen separately in paper,
smoothing the feathers in their proper places before doing so.
Also, never carry a shot bird by its neck, as the weight of the
bird’s body depending from the neck must stretch the latter
beyond its fair proportions.

I have here briefly glanced at a few of the many ways of
taking birds and beasts; to have described them all would have
required a special volume double the size of the present one. I
think, however, I have said enough for all practical needs; but
in case any reader should require fuller information, I must
refer him to such articles as he will find week by week in The
Field, Land and Water, or the American publication,
Forest and Stream.

Good text books, also, on Trapping, etc.., are W. B. Lord’s
“Shifts and Expedients of Camp Life,” Captain Darwin’s (“High
Elms”) “Game Preservers’ Manual,” Jefferries’ “Amateur Poacher,”
“Gamekeeper at Home,” etc.. For details as to the hunting and
scientific shooting of foreign large game, with directions as to
the vulnerable spots to be aimed at, I must again refer the
reader to articles from the pen of such men as Sir Samuel Baker,
G. P. Sanderson, “Smoothbore,” “The Old Shekarry,” Gordon
Cumming, Jules Gerard, C. J. Andersson, Emil Holub, F. C. Selous,
etc.., all of whom have either written books on sporting, or
whose articles are still to be met with in late numbers of The
Field.

CHAPTER III.
NECESSARY TOOLS.

A BAD workman, it is said,
always quarrels with his tools. If this be so, it is equally
certain that a good workman, though he may make shift with
indifferent implements of his craft, yet always prefers the best
and most labour-saving tools he can procure. The chief point of
difference, however, between the skilled and unskilled workman
is, that the former may and often does get the best results with
the fewest possible tools, while the other must surround himself
with dozens of unnecessary things before he can “do a stroke.”
This being so, I propose to point out to my readers in a few
words, and by means of drawings, how very few tools are required
to skin and set up a bird or small animal. My remarks will,
therefore, be addressed as much to the amateur as to the tyro
desirous of becoming a professional; in fact, I wish it to be
understood that I write as much to educate the one as the
other.

The first and almost indispensable tool is the knife (I say
almost, because I have known a person begin and finish a small
bird with a pair of scissors); nearly any small knife will do to
make the first incision, but experience has shown the most useful
shape to be as in Fig. 11, which is the skinning knife; the
blade, it will be observed, is long and narrow, 3 in. to 4 in.
along the cutting edge, and half an inch across; the handle,
which should be of box, lignum vitae, or any hard wood
susceptible, of a high polish, is 3.5 in. in length, exclusive of
a half-inch brass ferrule; the shape shown is the most
comfortable and handiest to work with. Fig. 12 shows a broader
and stronger knife, five-eighths of an inch across, having a
somewhat differently shaped hard wood handle, as the knife is
intended for heavier work. Fig. 13 shows a broad strong blade,
one inch across, and of an entirely different character; this,
which is useful for the rough, large work, to be hereafter
mentioned, has a perforated tang, to which two half rounded
pieces of hard wood should be bolted. Length of blade and handle,
4 in. each.

My reason for having all of these handles of polished hard
wood is, that blood and dirt will the more easily wash off. All
of these knives are best procured at the leather sellers’, for
the reasons that, first, the shapes drawn are always in stock;
secondly, they are manufactured of the finest and toughest steel;
and thirdly, their expense is trifling. The handles, however, are
usually of softwood, unpolished, and had better be replaced at
the turner’s. The knives when first purchased are about 4 in.
long in the blade; for skinning I think them pleasantest to use
when ground or worn down to 3 in. or 3.5 in.; this, however, is a
matter of individual taste.

I have, since the above was written, found that some dealers
in leather and shoemakers’ “grindery” sell knives of varied and
serviceable patterns — other than those described —
all of which have hard wood handles. Dissecting knives and
scalpels, to be procured at any Surgical instrument maker’s, are
also very useful for fine work. “Transfixion” knives are of
service when engaged upon very large animals, and here also come
in the post-mortem hooks.

Fig. 11, 12, 13
— SKINNING KNIVES.

The next most important tool is the scissors, two pairs of
which should be procured, one pair long and fine, 5.5 in. or 6
in. long (see Fig. 14), for use in small and delicate work
connected with birds; the other about 4 in. long, of a different
shape and much stouter and stronger (see Fig. 15). These are used
for general work upon larger birds or small mammals.

Fig. 14 —
SCISSORS, No 1. pattern.

Fig. 15 — SCISSORS, No 2.
pattern.

For still heavier work connected with mammals, and especially
with fish, I prefer a pair of small spring shears, 6 in, to 7 in.
long, similar to those used by gardeners for grape-pruning.

Fig. 16.
— Bell-hangers’ Pliers.

Fig. 16 brings us to a really indispensable adjunct to the
taxidermist’s kit — the compound or bell-hangers’ pliers;
these pliers are as the ordinary holding ones at the top, but
have a cutting plane fixed lower down (those with flat, not
raised, cutters, are to be preferred)*; the figure gives a good
idea, but the grip should not be quite so broad as they are
usually made; from 8 in. to 10 in. is the most useful size. The
10 in. is rather large, but is, perhaps, the best for
professional needs. [Footnote: These pliers are sometimes
made with a nick at the intersection of the joint to form a
cutting plane for thick wires.]

Fig. 17 shows the ordinary cutting nippers, 4 in. to 5 in.
long, useful for cutting fine wires or pins, in situations where
the use of the other pliers is impracticable. Remarks as to grip
as before.

Fig. 17 —
Cutting nippers.

Both of these articles should be of the best workmanship and
materials. Buck, of London, and Stubbs, of Warrington, may be
recommended as good makers.

I lately procured a very handy little pair of cutting nippers
of elegant workmanship, used chiefly by watchmakers, and made in
Paris. These are excellent for delicate work or for cutting very
fine wire or entomological pins (see Fig. 18).

Fig. 18 —
French Cutting Nippers

I now figure a most necessary little pair of pliers for
dressing the feathers of birds. These are also used by
watchmakers, are of neat construction and differ from most pliers
in having an obtusely rounded point (see Fig. 19, A and B).
These, which I call “feather pliers,” are in conjunction with a
small, thick, round, camel-hair brush (used by artists for
“washing in”), indispensable for “feathering up” birds, a process
to be described later on.

Fig. 20 is the next, and I fancy I hear some reader exclaim,
“What on earth has a goffering-iron to do with taxidermy?” I
reply: This shaped tool is wanted for artfully conveying small
morsels of tow, etc.., into the necks and hollow places of
birds’ skins. It may be easily made in this wise: Procure as
small and fine a pair of goffering-irons as you possibly can, and
have them drawn out and brought to a fine yet obtuse point by
some smith, and you thus get a finished tool for about half what
it would cost to make outright. Length, when finished, should be
somewhere about 10 in.

Fig. 19 —
Feather Pliers

A large and a fine crooked awl with handles, a file, and a
rough stone from the leatherseller’s, are other things to
procure, and these, with the ten tools previously particularised,
some tow, wool, wire, eyes, and a needle and thread, a pot of
preservative paste, and a piece of wood or a wire for a stuffing
iron, are all that the amateur or the professional requires to
skin and stuff a small or medium-sized bird or mammal. Cost of
the stone and tools (which, with ordinary care, will last for
years) should be within the reach of all.

Fig. 20 —
Tow Forceps

The “stuffing iron” mentioned above is best made, if wanted
for small birds, from the broken steel of a wool comber’s
“devil,” about nine inches long, fixed in a bradawl handle of
about four inches, or, if for large birds or mammals, the iron
may be made from a broken fencing foil, to any size between
twelve and thirty inches, with suitable handle. In either case
the smallest end is driven into the handle, and the top is filed
across with a smooth nick, to push in, but not to retain the tow.
See Fig. 21.

Fig. 21 —
Stuffing Iron

This, I would point out to the non-professional reader, is a
much more satisfactory way of getting thoroughly efficient tools
than going to the expense of ordering a box of “bird-stuffing
implements,” at a cost of many pounds and finding one half of
them unnecessary, and the other half worthless.

CHAPTER IV.
PRESERVATIVE SOAPS, POWDERS, ETC.

HAVING skinned a zoological
specimen, we require, as a matter of course, to anoint the inside
of the skin with some preservative, for the purpose of arresting
decomposition and general decay, and also defending it from the
ravages of insects for an indefinite period. Many things will
partially cure a skin; for instance, rubbing it with dry earth
and exposing it to the sun, as I have done with some success when
hunting abroad; chalk also will do, if nothing else can be
procured. I have at the present moment a raven’s head cut off by
a rifle ball, cured only with chalk, and which is now, after a
lapse of twenty years, in as good a state of preservation as need
be. Still we require other aids than sun and chalk to properly
preserve our specimens, especially in our usually cold, damp
climate; and if we ask what is the sine qua non, a chorus of
professional and amateur taxidermists shout out, “Arsenic, of
course.”

I propose to show the fallacy of this, being quite of the way
of thinking of Waterton, who says, “It (arsenic) is dangerous to
the operator and inefficient as a preservative.” I will, however,
give everyone a chance of doing exactly as he pleases by jotting
down three different recipes for arsenical soaps. The inventor of
the first of these appears to have been one Bécoeur, of
the now world-renowned Metz. Bécoeur appears to have
flourished about the year 1770, and his formula is still commonly
used. It is compounded as follows:

No. 1. — Bécoeur’s Arsenical
Soap.

Camphor, 5 oz.

Salt of tartar, 12 oz.

Powdered arsenic, 2 lb.

Lime in powder (or powdered chalk), 4 oz.

White soap, 2 lb.

Cut the soap into small slices as thin as possible, put them
into a pot over a gentle fire with very little water, stirring it
often with a wooden spoon; when dissolved, add the salts of
tartar and powdered chalk; take it off the fire, add the arsenic,
and stir the whole gently; lastly, put in the camphor, which must
first be pounded in a mortar with a little spirits of wine. When
the whole is properly mixed together it will have the consistence
of paste. It may be preserved in tin or earthenware pots, well
closed and cautiously labelled. When wanted for use it must be
diluted with a little cold water to the consistence of clear
broth; the pot may be covered with a lid of pasteboard, having a
hole for the passage of the brush, by which the liquor is
applied. (There appears in this formula to be an error in giving
12 oz. of Salts of tartar, which should, I think, be reduced to 2
oz.; also the proportion, of arsenic and soap is clearly
excessive with regard to the quantity of the lime or chalk.)

Swainson appears to have used a composition somewhat different
from the preceding. He describes it as follows:

No. 2. — Swainson’s Arsenical Soap.

Arsenic, 1 oz.

Distilled water, 6 drms.

White soap, 1 oz

Camphor, 2 drms.

Carbonate of potash, 1 drm.

This mixture should be kept in small tin boxes; when it is to
be used moisten a camel-hair pencil with any kind of spirituous
liquor, and with it make a lather from the soap, which is to be
applied to the inner surface of all parts of the skin, and also
to such bones as may not be removed.

The next formula is of my own arrangement; I have used it, and
have found it quite equal to any of the other arsenical
preparations, which is not saying much for any of them.

No. 3. — Browne’s Arsenical Soap.

Arsenic, 1 lb

Distilled water 6 drms

Soft soap, 2 lb.

Whiting (or powdered chalk), 3 lb.

Camphor or tincture of musk, 2 oz.

Place the arsenic in an old saucepan (which is not to be used
for any other purpose whatever); put the whiting over it, next
pour sufficient water over it to make it into a thick paste, then
add the soft soap, stir the whole well together, add a little
water, and place on the fire to boil, adding from time to time
water sufficient to render the whole mass of the consistence of
gruel. When it boils up it is sufficiently well done; take it off
the fire, and place outside in the open air to cool, as the
fumes, if given off in a close room, are highly prejudicial to
health. When nearly cold, stir in the camphor, previously pounded
to a fine powder by the addition of a few drops of any spirit
— spirits of wine, gin, rum, turpentine, etc.. If musk is
used it is sufficient to stir it in the mass, or 1 oz. of pure
carbolic acid (previously melted) may be substituted for either
the camphor or musk.

The reason for stirring in the camphor, musk, or carbolic
acid, when the arsenical paste is nearly cold, is twofold —
first, to prevent the inhaling of the metallic fumes, which
readily attack the lungs; and secondly, to prevent the said fumes
or heated air carrying off with it the volatile essences of those
drugs. The quantities given are sufficient to fill two six-pound
Australian meat tins, which form capital receptacles for
arsenical paste, and should be soldered up, only to be opened as
required for use. As this quantity is, however, perhaps too much
for the amateur, the proportions may be decreased, and what is
not in actual use had better be soldered up in the tins just
referred to, and which may be found very useful, besides, for
such purposes as paint pots, etc.. Carefully label this
preparation “Poison,” and place it out of the reach of
children.

I have given the foregoing formulae, not because I have the
slightest faith in any of them, but simply for the benefit, or
otherwise, of those persons who elect to use arsenical
preparations in defiance of the teachings of common sense, and in
deference to the prevailing notion that arsenic is the only
poison extant which has extraordinary preservative powers. This I
flatly deny, after an experience of more than five and twenty
years. Let us dissect the evidence as to the claim of arsenic to
be considered as the antiseptic and preservative agent par
excellence.

Its advocates claim for it — First, that it dries and
preserves all flesh from decay better than anything else known;
secondly, that if the skin is well painted with arsenical soap no
moth or maggot will be found to touch it. This, then, is all is
wanted — immunity from decay and protection from insects.
Now I maintain that arsenical mixtures are not only most
dangerous, but quite useless also for the purpose.

Arsenic is simply a drier of animal tissue to a certain
extent, but so are hundreds of other agents not so dangerous. It
is also perfectly useless as a scarecrow or poison to those
bêtes noire of the taxidermist, the larvae of the
various clothes and fur eating moths of the genus Tinea,
or the larvae of Dermestes lardarius, murinus, and other
museum beetles. They simply laugh arsenic to scorn; indeed, I
believe, like the Styrian arsenic eaters, they fatten on it. I
could give many instances. Of course, when you point out to a
brother taxidermist — rival, I mean; there are no brothers
in art — the fact that somehow this arsenical paste does
not work the wonders claimed for it, he replies, “Oh! ah! yes!
that specimen, I now recollect, was done by a very careless man I
employed; he never half painted the skin.”

All nonsense! Men, as well as masters, lay the “preservative”
on as thickly as they can. Verbum sap.! A great outcry is
being made at the present day as to arsenical wall papers and
ladies’ dresses — very properly so; but did it never strike
any taxidermist — they must read the papers some times,
even if not scientific men — that if it was dangerous to
live in a room, the paper of which contains a barely appreciable
quantity of arsenic, it was also dangerous to work all day in a
shop amid hundreds of specimens actually reeking with arsenic,
and giving it off when dry, and when handled, in the form of
dust? Painted on the skin while wet is bad enough; but what shall
we say to those — well, we will not use harsh terms —
who calmly tell you that they always use dry arsenic.
Incredible as the statement may appear to the scientist, yet it
is true that I have seen a man plunge his hand in the most
matter-of-fact way into a box containing dry arsenic, and coolly
proceed to dust it on a skin. What is the consequence of this to
the user of wet or dry arsenical preparations? Coughs, colds,
chronic bronchitis, soreness of the lips and nose, ugly ulcers,
brittleness of nails, and partial or complete paralysis. I knew a
man who formerly used dry arsenic, whose constitution was
thoroughly broken up by it. Again, an amateur of long standing
called on me some time since, paralyzed in one hand — the
doctors could make nothing of him. I said at once, “You have been
using quantities of arsenic, and probably dry?”

Much astonished, he said “Yes;” and he had never mentioned
this fact to his numerous doctors, who worked, of course, in the
dark, when, by a course of antidotes taken at first, he might
have been saved.

Used alone, arsenical paste is worse than useless for animals,
causing them to “sweat” at once in certain places, and preventing
your pulling them about, as you must do if modelling; again, if
used for fur, you seldom or never can relax by that crucial test
of a good preservative, i.e., — plunging in
water.

Yet one question to the advocates of arsenic. If it possesses
the chief advantage claimed for it, why use camphor in museums
under the idea that it drives away moths?

Perhaps it will be as well to point out secundum artem
the pros and cons for the use of arsenic.

Having now summed up in the case of Common Sense versus
Arsenic, I challenge contradiction to any of my statements, and
ask, Why use a dangerous and inefficient preservative agent, when
a harmless preservative, and that quite as good worker and dryer
as arsenic, will suffice? I have invented a soap for which I
claim those advantages, and as to its deterrent principle re
insects, I am convinced that it is quite as good as the other,
for is there any one thing known — compatible with
clean-looking work — that will prevent the ravages of the
maggots in birds’ skins? I answer, No! — if we except one
thing, too dangerous to handle — bichloride of mercury, of
which anon. Let me whisper a little fact, and blow the poison
theory to the winds: The real secret of success is to case your
specimens up as soon as practicable, or to keep them always
in full light, not poking them away in obscure corners, which the
Tineidae and other pests love–hating light as the Father of Evil
is said to hate holy water.

My Preservative formula is as follows:

No. 4. — Brown’s (Non poisonous) Preservative
Soap.

Whiting or chalk, 2.5 lb.

Chloride of lime, 2 oz.

Soft soap, 1 lb.

Tincture of musk, 1 oz.

Boil together the whiting and the soap with about a pint of
water; then stir in the chloride of lime (previously finely
pounded) while the mixture is hot; if this point is not attended
to, the mixture will not work smoothly; when nearly cool, stir in
the tincture of musk. This will about fill a 6 lb. Australian
meat tin. Caution: It is not necessary to hold the mouth over the
mixture while hot, as chlorine is then rapidly evolved. This
mixture has stood the test of work and time, and I therefore
confidently bring it to the notice of the public as completely
superseding the arsenical paste or soap for small mammals
and all birds; indeed, numbers of persons, totally unknown
to me, have written to me about its advantages.

One says: “I have followed the bird-stuffing now for several
years in connection with another trade, but I have never seen
anything to touch it before. I have quite given up arsenic, and
can get on fine without it, and only wish that I had known the
grand secret before.”

Another: “Your recipe for preservative unction (non-poisonous)
is simply invaluable to taxidermists. I have been trying for a
long time to make a non-poisonous unction, but never fairly
succeeded; always had a doubt as to their efficacy, prejudice had
something to do with it.”

A third says: “I have tried your recipe, and am well satisfied
of its qualities for preserving skins, having tried Swainson’s,
and Bécoeur’s, and yours, and after a twelvemonth have
relaxed the skins, and give my favour to yours as a toughener of
the skin.”

None of the above correspondents are known tome, and their
opinion was sent unasked. Those people I do know who are using it
are perfectly satisfied, as I myself am after a constant use of
it for the past seven years. I find that skins dressed by it are
not “burned,” as some people may think, but relax most perfectly
after a lapse of years by any method, even by the water process
spoken of hereafter. I do not think it any better or worse than
the arsenical preparations for preventing the attacks of insects,
but the addition of tincture of musk (a lasting perfume) has
seemed to me to be a great gain. One person wrote to me stating
his opinion that the lime unduly corroded the wires used in
setting up. I believe this might happen in cases where the
mixture was used in a more fluid state than directed, namely, as
a paste of a creamy consistence. I know of no evil effects
produced.

Of course the mixture, if kept exposed, dries up in time, and
is then best wetted with a little warm water, into which a few
drops of tincture of musk have been stirred. Where there is more
fat or flesh than usual, say, on the inside of the wings, or on
the leg bones, or inside the mouth, a small quantity of carbolic
acid wash (Formula No. 16) will be found useful to dilute the
preservative paste. Carbolic acid, however weak, must not be used
on the thin parts of the skin of small mammals or birds, as it
dries and shrivels them up so quickly as to seriously interfere
with subsequent modelling.

Though many insects eat the skin itself, yet how is it
possible to guard against insects which attack the feathers only
of birds (as the most minute species of the little pests do) by
an agent which professedly cures the skin only? I remember once
seeing the most comical sight possible, a stuffed cock and hen
entirely denuded of feathers by thousands of a minute tines,
their dry skins only left; they were as parchment effigies of
their former selves. Difficult as the matter is, I yet hope to
show both amateurs and professionals how to considerably increase
the chances of preservation. It is this: After using the soap,
and having the mammal arranged or bird stuffed ready for
“cottoning,” brush over the whole of the feathers, legs, toes,
and beak, with the following preparation:

No. 5. — Waterton’s Solution of Corrosive
Sublimate.

To a wine-bottleful of spirits of wine add a large teaspoonful
of corrosive sublimate; in twelve hours draw it off into a clean
bottle, dip a black feather into the solution, and if, on drying,
a whiteness is left on the feather, add a little more
alcohol.

Care must be taken not to handle the bird more than absolutely
necessary after this operation, for reasons which I will give
below when speaking of the following recipe, which I have
extracted from a little book professedly written by a well-known
taxidermist, though I believe he knew nothing at all about it
until it was published.

The preparation referred to, which should be labelled
“Dangerous! Not to be used!” is as follows:

No. 6. — Gardner’s Preservative.

Arsenic, 6 oz.

Camphor, 1 oz.

Corrosive sublimate, 3 oz.

Spirits of wine, 0.5 pint.

Yellow soap, 2 oz.

“Put all these ingredients in a pipkin, which place over a
slow fire, stirring the mixture briskly till the several parts
are dissolved and form one homogeneous mass. This may then be
poured into a wide-mouthed bottle and allowed to stand till quite
cold, when it will be ready for use. Of course, these quantities
may be increased or decreased according to the size of the animal
to be operated on; but the proportions here given must be
preserved.”

Did it ever occur to the gifted author of this that stirring
camphor and spirits of wine briskly over a slow fire would be as
quick a way as could be invented of summoning the fire brigade;
also, that nine ounces of poison to eleven ounces of other
ingredients, well worked into the hands at different times, as it
must be, when handling, or returning skins painted with it, would
not tend to lengthen the life of the learner? Corrosive sublimate
being a mercurial preparation — i.e., bichloride of
mercury — I ask any chemist amongst my readers what effect
three ounces of that dangerous preparation, six ounces of
arsenic, yellow soap, and spirits of wine would have upon the
constitution? Would it not be readily absorbed through the hands
into the system? and next comes salivation, and then — the
last scene of all!

Yet another little treat for the amateur desirous of
committing suicide under the transparent pretence of studying
taxidermy. This, which I have culled from the pages of “Maunders’
Treasury of Natural History,” is, by a fine irony, entitled
Bullock’s “Preservative” Powder:

No. 7. — Bullock’s Preservative
Powder.

Arsenic, 1 lb.

Camphor, 0.5 lb.

Burnt alum, 1 lb.

Tincture of musk, 12 oz.

Tanners’ bark 2 lb.

“Mix the whole thoroughly, and after reducing it to a powder
pass it through a sieve. Keep in close tin canisters. This powder
is more particularly adapted to fill up incisions made in the
naked parts of quadrupeds and the skulls of large birds. It has
been strongly recommended to us, but, being perfectly satisfied
with our own, we have never tried it.”

With regard to the foregoing composition I have a few words to
say, which are these, that the reason I have copied it is that I
have met with it in more books than one, and I wish therefore to
call special attention to it, that it may be labelled
“Dangerous,” and that anyone using it will do so at his peril.
Fancy shaking arsenic up in a sieve, and afterwards dusting it in
con amore! Really, if people will use poisons, and others
put themselves to considerable pains to invent the most deadly
compounds for them, is it not criminal carelessness that such
things should be published without a word of warning as to their
character or effects?

Powders, as a rule, being made of astringents, dry the skin
too quickly (especially if a bird is being operated on) to
perfectly shape the specimen. As they are useful, however, to
fill up and quickly dry cavities in the wings, and such like, of
large birds, etc.., and in some cases even to prepare a skin
for future stuffing, I will give a powder of my own composition,
the chief point of merit of which consists in its being harmless
to the user, and also that it has been tried on a large bird’s
skin, which it so effectually preserved and toughened that,
eighteen months afterwards, it was relaxed and stuffed up better
than the usual run of made skins:

No. 8. — Browne’s Preservative Powder.

Pure tannin, 1 oz.

Red pepper, 1 oz.

Camphor, 1 oz.

Burnt alum, 8 oz.

Pound and thoroughly mix, and keep in stoppered bottles or
canisters.

The foregoing preparation, though perfectly efficient for
small mammals (say up to squirrel size) and for birds, is not
sufficiently strong to penetrate the skin and thoroughly fix the
hair of the larger mammals. For this purpose the older
taxidermists used a wash or powder, composed of equal parts of
alum and nitre (saltpetre). This had the double disadvantage of
rendering the specimen cured by its aid almost dripping with
humidity in damp weather, and efflorescing with the double salts
around the eyes and mouth in dry weather. Alum alone was
frequently used by those unaware of its peculiar property of
deliquescing in heat as well as in humidity.

I have, I believe, at last succeeded in arranging the proper
proportions, and in substituting, for the worse than useless
crude alum, the alum ustum or burnt alum, which is not affected
by moisture (at least to any appreciable extent). The proportions
are:

No. 9. — Browne’s Preservative Powder for Skins of
Mammals.

Burnt alum, 1 lb.

Saltpetre, 0.25 lb.

Pound and thoroughly mix.

This, well rubbed into the skin and fleshy parts of mammals,
is a certain and thoroughly trustworthy cure, and will penetrate
through skin a quarter of an inch or more thick, fixing the hair
or fur in a most admirable manner, and has the double advantage
of being harmless to the person using it, and beneficial even if
it gets on the outside of the skin of the specimen; indeed, it
should be rubbed in on the fur side if the specimen is at all
“high” when brought in. In all cases it is a good plan to
thoroughly rub the outside of the ears, eyelids, nose, and lips,
with this composition before skinning. I consider this the
greatest boon to the animal preserver ever invented, and those to
whom I have imparted the formula are loud in its praise, as
witness the dozens of letters I have received from all parts
during the last seven years.

If the proportions given are adhered to, no crystallisation of
salts will take place around the eyes and mouth. Should this,
however, happen from any cause, a stiff brush dipped in olive oil
may be used to remove it and prevent its reappearance.

After the mammal is stuffed and mounted, it may be washed over
with Waterton’s Solution (previously given) or the following,
which ought to preserve the specimen from the attacks of
insects:

No. 10. — Preservative Wash.

Corrosive sublimate, 1 oz.

Tincture of camphor (or musk), 1 oz.

Methylated spirits, 1 quart. 1 oz.

This solution must be kept in a bottle, carefully labelled
“Poison,” and when used is not to be touched with the hands, but
laid on with a brush.

It constantly happens that parts of the bodies of animals
— notably their fore and hind limbs, and their heads even
— are required to be preserved for some considerable time
for purposes of modelling their contour or muscles; it then
becomes necessary to find some preparation which will keep large
pieces of flesh sufficiently sweet and firm to model from. For
the first edition, I had written to a scientific friend as to the
preparations now in use at the various hospitals for the
preservation of subjects, etc.., to which he answered:

“As far as I can glean
from various sources, the medical profession has only within the
last few years attempted to preserve whole bodies. Parts have, of
course, been preserved in alcohol of some kind until they have
literally crumbled away. At St. George’s Hospital they use a
preservative fluid, invented by the hospital porter
(dissecting-room porter). The subjects are kept in a slate tank
filled with the fluid. To show the efficiency of this fluid, I
might mention that the first subject arrived much decomposed some
months since, but is now quite fresh and sweet. The muscles
inevitably lose a little of their colour in the preparation,
which is all the change as yet observed. At Guy’s is used a
preparation of glycerine and arsenic, but at the present moment I
do not recollect the exact proportions. At King’s College, the
method invented by Sterling, of Edinburgh, is used. All other
hospitals have the old methods in vogue, such as preparations of
arsenic.”

Since then, I have had occasion
to go more deeply into the subject and have used some of the
formulae which follow, viz., rectified spirits, Moeller’s
Solution, and various preparations of lime.

Messrs. Medlock and Bailey’s bisulphite of lime (calcium) is
most highly recommended by analytical experts for preserving
large joints of meat and fish; and, indeed, the experiments
conducted under scientific and Government supervision have
abundantly proved its value. Its price is not great. For large
joints the following is the formula:

No. 11. — Messrs. Medlock and Bailey’s
Formula.

Bisulphite of lime, 1 gall.

Common salt, 0.25 pint.

Water, 2 to 4 galls.

The following, taken from the “Year Book of Pharmacy for
1880,” appears to be a very efficient formula; like all the rest
of such formulae, it contains a certain percentage of arsenious
acid:

A new Preserving
Fluid. — The Prussian Secretary of State for Education has
caused the publication of the following compound and method of
its application, discovered by Wickersheimer, the Preparator of
the Anatomical Museum of the University of Berlin, who had at
first patented the compound, but was induced to renounce his
patent claims.

No. 12. —
Wickersheimer’s Preserving Liquid, No. 1.

In 3000 parts of
boiling water dissolve 100 of alum, 25 of sodium chloride, 12 of
potassium nitrate, 60 of potassa, and 10 of arsenious acid, let
cool and filter. To every 10 litres of the filtrate add 4 litres
of glycerine and 1 litre of methylic alcohol. [Footnote: A
gram = 15.444 grains troy; a litre = a little more than 11
pints.]

Its application differs with the special objects to be
preserved. In general, the objects must be impregnated with it.
If the objects are to be preserved dry, they are soaked in the
liquid from six to twelve days, and afterwards dried in the
air.

Ligaments, muscles, and other animal objects remain perfectly
soft and movable. Hollow organs, as lungs and intestines, should
be filled with the liquid previous to immersion in it; after
being taken out, and before drying, it is advisable to inflate
them with air. Injecting the liquid into a corpse will preserve
the latter completely, and the muscular tissue will always retain
the natural colour of fresh corpses. To preserve the outward
appearance of the latter, they should be well impregnated
externally and enclosed in air-tight oases; this is only
necessary to preserve the exact original appearance; if it is
not done, the body will keep equally well if thoroughly injected,
but the exterior will gradually become somewhat dry and dark
coloured. Plants may likewise be preserved by this liquid.
[Footnote: So expensive a preparation is, I think,
sufficiently well replaced by salt, corrosive sublimate, and
distilled water (see Formula No. 27). M. Decandolle exhibited,
some years since, a branch of a coffee tree which had been
perfectly preserved for fifty years. It was then pointed out that
the efficacy of such solutions (saline) depended on their being
boiled and applied to the plants hot (not boiling).]

The following is a modification of the above, useful for
comparison as to relative strengths for injection and
immersion:

No. 13. — Wickersheimer’s Preserving Liquids, Nos.
2 and 3.

My friend, Dr. Priestley Smith, surgeon to the Birmingham Eye
Hospital, has kindly given me his formula for a process which
most admirably preserves delicate parts of animals. Having been
enabled to give him some eyes of rare animals and fishes (whales
and sharks), he showed me the process which is now fully
explained in the following extract from the British Medical
Journal of Jan. 10th, 1880:

PRESERVATION OF
OPHTHALMIC SPECIMENS.

Several friends and correspondents have asked me to refer them
to a description of the method which I employ for the
preservation of ophthalmic specimens, examples of which were
exhibited in the annual museum of the Association in Cork last
summer. I published an account of it in the Birmingham Medical
Review for July, 1878; but, as several improvements have been
effected since that time, I shall be greatly obliged by being
allowed space in this journal for a brief description of my
present method.

No. 14. — Priestley Smith’s Formula.

  The following are the solutions, etc., employed:
 
1. Mueller’s Fluid — viz.,
 
Bichromate of potash 1 part,
 
Sulphate of soda 1 part,
  Water 100 parts;
 
2. Hydrate of chloral and water, 1 in 20;
 
3. Glycerine and water, 1 in 4,
 
4. Glycerine and water, 1 in 2 — i.e.,
equal parts;
  5. Glycerine-jelly — viz.,

  6. A thick white varnish 
made by mixing oxide of zinc with copal varnish in a
mortar.

The eyeball is placed, immediately after excision, unopened,
in Mueller’s Fluid for about three weeks, light being carefully
excluded. It is then frozen solid by immersion for a few minutes
in a mixture of finely powdered ice and salt, and immediately
divided into lateral halves by means of a sharp-edged
table-knife. The portion to be mounted is then placed in chloral
solution for some weeks, in order to remove the yellow colour;
light being still excluded, and the fluid being changed until it
is no longer discoloured by the bichromate. The specimen next
lies for twenty-four hours or longer in the weaker glycerine
solution, and is then transferred for a similar period to the
stronger glycerine solution, after which it may be mounted in the
jelly without danger of shrinking. A specimen-jar being
two-thirds filled with melted jelly, the half-eye is placed in
it, the concavity upwards. When every interstice is filled, it is
turned over (care being taken to avoid the inclusion of an
air-bubble), and held in a central position in contact with the
bottom of the jar. When cold and firmly coagulated, the jelly is
coated over with white varnish. A few days later, when the
surface of the varnish is firm, this again is thinly coated with
a film of jelly, and thereby preserved from the ultimate danger
of cracking. The jar is fixed with glue into a suitable wooden
stand. The gelatine which yields the strongest and most
colourless jelly is that manufactured by Coignet and Co., of
Paris, obtainable in packets, and known as the “gold-label”
variety. The specimen-jars, admirable both as to material and
workmanship, have been made expressly for me by Messrs. F. and C.
Osler, of Broad Street, Birmingham, from whom they may be
obtained in any number. — PRIESTLEY SMITH, Birmingham.

Glycerine retards fermentation
and decomposition to a remarkable degree. It combines readily
with alcohol or water.

Boracic acid in small quantities mixed with a solution of
saltpetre, i.e., 1 to 50, is stated to be of service in
the preservation of flesh.

Previously salted meat cannot be preserved this way; salting
evidently removes the phosphates. Action of boracic acid would,
no doubt, set up acid phosphates, which are the prime causes of
the preservation.

A preparation of borax has been brought out by Mr. Robottom,
of Birmingham, who claims for it that it preserves all animal and
vegetable tissue, as well as being useful for tanning skins. I
shall refer to this preparation further on. Carbolic acid (pure)
will be found a valuable ally of the taxidermist. Calvert was the
chief if not the only maker of the pure preparation, which is
sold in 0.5 lb. or 1 lb. bottles in a solid crystalline state, as
if it were frozen. The bottle, with the stopper temporarily
removed, must be plunged in boiling water to melt out as much as
is required, to which must be added many times its weight or
quantity of water. This diluted preparation will be found of
infinite service in the hot summer months for pouring in the
“gentle” infested throats or wounds of mammals and birds
preparatory to skinning. Diluted and poured on a little burnt
alum or pure tannin, and the mixture well shaken together, it
forms an exceedingly strong preparation, as well as a valuable
one, for painting the noses or pickling the tongues of animals
before or after skinning. Two strengths of this will be found
very useful. Thus:

No. 15 — Carbolic Wash, No. 1 (for
Mammals).

Glacial carbolic acid, 2 oz.

Burnt alum or pure tannin, 1 oz.

Water, 1 pint.

Keep in stoppered bottle labelled “Poison,” and shake up
before using.

No. 16. — Carbolic Wash, No. 2 (for
Birds).

Glacial carbolic acid, 1 oz.

Water, 1 pint.

Keep in stoppered bottle labelled “Poison,” and shake before
using. Carbolic acid is a caustic poison, and therefore must be
handled carefully.

It sometimes happens that the taxidermist, if in a large way
of business, is called upon to destroy the insects infesting, it
may be, the entire collection of heads or skins hanging in some
gentleman’s hall. No better or more effective way of doing this
is to be found than plunging them entirely in a bath composed
of:

No. 17. —
Carbolic Acid Wash, No. 3 (“Poison”).

Carbolic acid, 1 lb.

Sal ammoniac, 0.5 oz.

Corrosive sublimate, 3 oz.

Pure tannin, 4 oz.

Hot water, 4 galls.

Mix this up in some out-house, or in the open air away from
the house, if a fine day; and when the mixture is cold plunge the
heads or skins in, holding the former by the horns, and stirring
the latter about with a stick; in fact, allowing the mixture to
touch the hands as little as possible.

It is, I believe, more efficacious if laid on hot than cold,
but the danger to health is greater. I venture to say that if
there is anything which will preserve objects for an indefinite
period it is corrosive sublimate. Deadly though it be, and
dangerous to work with, it has the advantage of being used as a
finishing preparation, and therefore need not, except in extreme
cases, be handled.

Instead of rectified spirits of wine, I have used with much
success as an exterior wash for valuable bird skins, the
following:

No. 18. — Preservative Wash.

Pure sulphuric ether, 1 pint.

Corrosive sublimate, 6 grs.

Keep in a stoppered bottle, labelled “Poison,” and when used
apply with a brush. This is more rapid in its evaporation than
spirits of wine, but is very expensive. Of course, the more
rapidly any spirit evaporates, and deposits poison previously
held in solution, the better chance you have of not spoiling your
specimens.

PRESERVATIVE FLUIDS FOR FISHES AND REPTILES.

I have lately given a great deal of attention to the
preservation of fishes — and especially large ones —
in some fluid which should have four advantages:

1. Perfect preservation of the specimen — and which
also, if a foreign one, is consequently a long time in
transit.

2. Its freedom from causing great shrinking or shrivelling of
the integument.

3. The points 1 and 2 being so well balanced that the specimen
is in a fit state–after many months — either to be treated
as a specimen shown in fluid, or to be mounted by the process of
taxidermy.

4. The comparative cheapness and facility of carriage of the
preservative medium.

In trying to obtain all these advantages there seem almost
insuperable difficulties in the reconcilement of these diverse
conditions.

Dr. A. Guenther, F.R.S., the eminent, ichthyologist and Chief
of the British Museum, recommends, in his new book, that pure or
rectified spirits of wine (56 per cent. over-proof) be the only
thing used for fishes, for permanent preservation in glass jars
or tanks, and this even for ordinary fishes 3 ft. to 4 ft. in
length, or even up to 6 ft. in length, if eel-like. “Proof”
spirit (containing only 49 per cent. by weight of pure alcohol as
against 84 per cent. contained in rectified spirit) is, says Dr.
Guenther, the lowest strength which can be used.

These will then stand as

No. 19. — Rectified Spirits of Wine (56 per cent.
over-proof),

and

No. 20. — Proof Spirits of Wine.

If a spirituous solution is absolutely required, I would
substitute for pure spirits of wine methylated spirit (alcohol
containing a certain percentage of impure gum or undrinkable wood
spirit) as being cheap and sufficiently good for some purposes.
It will not, however, bear any diluting with water; it must
stand, therefore, as

No. 21. — Methylated Spirit
(undiluted),

or as

No. 22. — Alcoholic Solution, No. 1.

Methylated spirit, 1.5 pints.

Burnt alum (pounded), 2 oz.

Distilled water, 0.5 pint.

Saltpetre, 4 oz.

This, which is to be well shaken together, becomes milky at
first, but will soon fine down, and may then be decanted.

No. 23. — Alcoholic Solution, No. 2.

Methylated spirit, 3 parts.

Glycerine, 1 part.

Distilled water, 1 part.

Although turpentine will not preserve reptiles or fishes, yet,
struck with the perfect manner with which I was enabled to
preserve soft-bodied beetles for nearly a year in benzol or
benzoline, I lately tried if this cheap and colourless liquid
would be of service for other subjects, with the result that I
have now some frogs (six or seven) in a glass jar containing
benzoline which have been immersed for over three months, and
have apparently undergone less change than if in spirits for the
same length of time. Whether they are likely to be permanently
preserved by this method I cannot, of course, yet determine, but
if so, it would be a great gain, owing to the brilliancy of the
liquid, its cheapness, and its advantages over all alcoholic
spirit in its less powerful action on the sealing wax or coating
used over the corks or stoppers of the glass preparation
jars.

There is no doubt that pure spirits of wine will preserve
objects for a great length of time, but the cost is very serious
to most persons, or even to institutions of less importance than
the British Museum — added to which the strong spirit
unquestionably shrivels and distorts such objects as fishes and
reptiles, whilst, diluted to any appreciable extent, spirit will
not preserve anything for any great period. To obviate these
inconveniences chemists have invented more or less perfect
preservative fluids, the oldest perhaps of which is

No. 24. — Goadby’s Solution, No. 1.

Bay salt, 4 oz.

Corrosive sublimate, 4 grs.

Alum, 2 oz.

Boiling water, 2 quarts.

Keep in stoppered bottle labelled “Poison.”

[Footnote: “Bay salt” is salt formed by evaporation of
sea-water in shallow lagoons or “salt-pans” exposed to the rays of
the sun.]

No. 25. — Goadby’s Solution, No. 2.

Bay salt, 0.5 lb.

Corrosive sublimate, 2 grs.

Arsenious acid, 20 grs.

Boiling rain water, 1 quart.

Keep in stoppered bottle labelled “Poison.”

Note that, corrosive sublimate being a remarkably difficult
thing to dissolve, even in pure spirits of wine, it may not be
generally known that the addition of a saturated solution of sal
ammoniac, in weight about half an ounce, is sufficient to
dissolve many ounces of corrosive sublimate. Thus a solution
useful for some purposes is easily made as follows:

No. 26. — Browne’s Preservative
Solution.

Saltpetre, 4 oz.

Corrosive sublimate, 0.25 oz.

Alum, 2 oz.

Sal ammoniac, 0.125 oz.

Boiling water, half gallon.

Keep in stoppered bottle labelled “Poison.”

This, it will be seen, is a modification of Goadby’s
Solution.

In the three preceding formulae the corrosive sublimate must
be dissolved in a small quantity of spirits of some kind, or, as
explained above, by the addition of a strong solution of sal
ammoniac.

No. 27. — Saline Solution for bottling Fish and
Reptiles.

Bichloride of mercury (corrosive sublimate), 1 grain.

Chloride of sodium (common salt), 90 grains.

Distilled water, 1 pint.

Intimately mix, set aside, let settle, and when clear, decant
and preserve in stoppered bottles. The following might also be
tried:

No. 28. — Camphorated Fluid for Preserving Fishes,
etc..

To distilled water, sixteen parts, add one part of rectified
spirits of wine and a few drops of creosote, sufficient to
saturate it; stir in a small quantity of best prepared chalk, and
then filter. With this fluid mix an equal quantity of camphor
water (water saturated with camphor), and before using, strain
off through very fine muslin.

The bisulphite of lime (see formula No. 11, ante) would
also, no doubt, be excellent as a preservative for fishes if not
quite so much diluted. Chloride of zinc, much diluted, is
recommended as a good preservative.

Dr. Priestley Smith’s formula (see No. 14, ante) would
do exceedingly well for small specimens to be subsequently
arranged in glass-topped tanks, as at the British Museum.

Another formula, sometimes used in the medical schools for
preserving parts of subjects, and useful as a pickle for fish and
reptiles, is a preparation called Moeller’s Solution:

No. 29 — Moeller’s Solution.

Bichromate of potash, 2 oz.

Sulphate of soda, 1 oz.

Distilled water, 3 pints.

A saturated solution of chromic acid is also used for the same
purposes. The chief disadvantage which both this and Moeller’s
Solution possess in common is their colour — a rich golden
one — which, of course, stains everything with which they
come in contact. This, however, is easily removable by the
Hydrate of Chloral formula (see Priestley Smith’s formula, No.
14, Section 2, ante).

This last (Moeller’s Solution) I have kept purposely until the
end, as it is the formula which, in my opinion, fulfils all the
four requirements stated in the opening paragraph, as desirable
in the preservation of the lower vertebrates. On my appointment
to the curatorship of the Leicester Museum I had occasion to
overhaul the “pickles” and prepare some fresh specimens, and was
very loth to use expensive spirits, or even methylated, for large
fish, and therefore tried many things with varying results. At
last I was driven back on Moeller’s Solution, and by its aid
saved some specimens which were slowly rotting in other fluids,
and successfully “pickled” such flabby things as sharks’ eggs,
sea anemones, and large-sized “lump fish.” It was then tried on
common “dog-fish,” one of which came out limp, yet perfectly
tough, and was skinned as an experiment after a month’s
immersion.

One day two large “topers” (a small species of shark), about
six feet long, were sent from Scarboro’. My taxidermist being
very busy at the time, I decided to give Moeller a severe test
and pickle them. Accordingly — their viscera only being
removed — they were tumbled into a large tub containing 2
lb. of bichromate of potassa to 20 galls. of spring water. This
was on 13th Sept., 1882; I looked at them on 17th July, 1883, and
they were perfectly fresh, quite limp, unshrivelled, and
yet so tough as to be capable of any treatment, even to being
cast as models, or “set up” by the taxidermic art; and this after
the lapse of ten calendar months — a time more than
sufficient for even a sailing vessel to come from any part of the
world.

I changed the solution once, the total cost from first to last
being one shilling and fourpence. Had pure spirit been used, the
expense would have been many pounds, to say nothing of the great
shrivelling which would have taken place by now. I must therefore
think that Moeller’s solution is, for the purpose, one of the
best things ever invented.

PRESERVATIVE FLUIDS FOR MOLLUSCA.

Generally speaking, pure alcohol is the best for this purpose.
Chloride of zinc would doubtless be of considerable service, and
I notice that Woodward, in his “Manual of the Molluscs,” says
that chloride of calcium, made by dissolving chalk, or the purer
carbonate — white marble, — in hydro-chloric acid
until effervescence ceases and a saturated solution is obtained,
is most useful as a preservative, as it “keeps the specimen
previously steeped in it permanently moist without injuring its
colour or texture; while its antiseptic properties will aid in
the preservation of matters liable to decay.”

Possibly some of the beautiful preparations in the Fisheries
Exhibition of 1883 were prepared in this manner, and such objects
as the sea-anemones, with tentacles expanded as in life, may have
been instantaneously killed by osmic acid.

LUTING FOR STOPPERS.

No doubt, every one notices how the ordinary wax, which is
used as a protective coating for bottles or “preparation” jars,
is attacked by the contained spirit in such a manner as to be
useless as a preventive of evaporation. Ordinary sealing wax,
“bottle wax,” beeswax, or paraffin wax, being useless, we are
driven back on a very old recipe of the French naturalist M.
Peron, who claimed for it advantages which it certainly
possesses.

No. 30. — “Lithocolle” for Sealing Bottles.

Common resin.

Yellow beeswax (or paraffin wax).

Red ochre (in powder).

Oil of turpentine (turps).

The proportions of this luting are determined by putting more
or less resin and red ochre, or turpentine and wax, as the
“lithocolle” is to be more or less brittle or elastic. Melt the
wax in the resin, then add the ochre in small quantities, and at
each addition of this stir the whole briskly round. When the
mixture has boiled seven or eight minutes, pour in the
turpentine, stir it round, and set it near the fire to keep it
warm some little time. To ascertain the quality, and if it
requires more or less wax, put a little out on a cold plate, and
note its degree of tenacity.

It is rather dangerous to prepare, and is best managed over a
gas jet or stove, so arranged that the flame does not rise above
the edge of the iron pot containing the composition; if this is
attended to, not much danger can arise, especially if, in case of
the composition firing, the lid of the pot be immediately clapped
on.

Apply with an old brush, or by repeatedly plunging the neck of
the bottle in the luting before the latter becomes cold. I have
used an application of glue with great success on corks over
spirits, by procuring the best glue, making it rather thin, and
applying it whilst hot in successive coats. It will not do,
however, for non-alcoholic solutions, nor for glass stoppers,
from which it scales off when cold.

GENERAL REMARKS.

In all cases when “pickling” animals it must be remembered
that the first pickle, whether alcoholic or not, is essentially
deteriorated by the bloody mucus and water which exudes from the
specimens, especially if large and “flabby;” this, of course,
reduces the strength of the preservative medium. It is well,
therefore, to have from three to four different vessels, in which
the objects shall be successively immersed for several days, or
even weeks, until, coming to the final preparation jar, they
shall not stain the liquid in which they are ultimately to
rest.

By using the various strengths of each preservative fluid one
under the other, in which to steep the specimens, proper results
will be obtained, by the exercise of a little forethought and
judgment. Filtration through blotting paper or charcoal is
necessary from time to time, and expensive spirits may be
re-distilled when becoming too weak by constant use.

Large fishes must have small cuts made in the walls of the
abdomen to allow the fluid to properly penetrate. In cases where
the specimen is not required for dissection, the removal of the
viscera facilitates the ultimate preservation.

If at ‘any time it is necessary to throw away a quantity of
inexpensive spent liquor which may smell offensively, a small
quantity of the crystals of permanganate of potassa will
instantly deodorise a large quantity of fluid, and this without
adding to it any offensive scent of its own, as in the case of
chloride of lime or carbolic acid. The vessel must be afterwards
well rinsed out in clean water, as ‘the potassa temporarily
stains everything in contact a rich purplish red.

Some experiments which I conducted with benzoline
incontestably proved to me its valuable properties. I
experimented on a Cornish chough — an old specimen,
infested with maggots or larvae of the “clothes” moth. I
immediately plunged it in benzoline, took it out, drained the
superfluous spirit off, and rapidly dried it by suspending it in
a strong current of air.

It took but a short time to dry, and, though the feathers were
very slightly clotted after the operation, yet, by a little
manipulation, explained hereafter, they soon arrived at their
pristine freshness, and all the insects which previously infested
it were effectually killed. I afterwards found on another
specimen — a short-eared owl — two or three larvae
feeding on the feathers. I poured a little benzoline over them in
situ, and they fell off, apparently dead. I kept them for a day,
and by that time they were shrivelled and undeniably dead.

Here, then, we have the two elements of success — a
perfect destroyer of insects, and an agent not damaging, but
positively beneficial, to the feathers of birds when applied;
added to which, is the remarkable cheapness of benzoline. Caution
— do not use it near a candle, lamp, nor fire, as it gives
off a highly inflammable vapour at a low temperature; it also
fills a house with a peculiarly disagreeable odour, finding its
way upstairs, as all volatile gases do; so it had better always
be used in the workshop or outhouse.

I have just discovered — and feel very “small” that I
did not do so before — that benzoline perfectly preserves
birds “in the flesh” for a considerable time. I tried it on a
razorbill (Alta torda, L.), which I placed in a
“preparation” jar, filled with common benzoline at l s. per
gallon. The bird was simply cut under the wing to allow the
benzoline to penetrate, and was left for three weeks; at the end
of which time it and taken out, cleaned in plaster (as described
in Chapter XI.), and made a most excellent taxidermic object! The
advantages of this to the overworked professional are
obvious.

In very severe cases I have used turpentine (“turps”) with
excellent effect; in fact, as a destructive agent for insects, I
prefer it to benzoline, having now mastered the hitherto fatal
objections to its use on birds’ skins. For the skins of mammals
there is nothing to beat it. This will be enlarged on in the
chapter on “Relaxing and Cleaning Skins.”

In thus speaking of benzoline and turpentine as agents in the
destruction of insect plagues, I mean, of course, that the
specimens should be plunged into, or have poured over them either
benzoline or turpentine. This seems to have been lost sight of by
some former correspondents of mine, one of whom writes
—

“In your toxicological section, I do not find any opinion on
atmospheric poisoning of acari, etc..

“If not giving you too much trouble, I should be glad to know
whether you think spirits of turpentine would be efficacious if
allowed to evaporate in a case of birds in which moths have
lately shown themselves.

“I am unwilling to have them taken out, in fact they have not
been cased twelve months, and I thought of boring a hole in an
obscure corner with bit and brace, and inserting a saturated
sponge, and then closing it again.

“Waterton says — ‘The atmosphere of spirit of turpentine
will allow neither acarus nor any insect to live in it.’ Do you
believe this?”

My answer to him, and to all such correspondents, was that I
had repeatedly proved that all such little vermin did not care a
bit for the fumes of benzoline, nor of any spirits whatever, as I
had caused gallons of turpentine, etc.., to be poured into
large cases containing specimens without producing the smallest
effect, unless it absolutely touched them, but that I had partly
succeeded by introducing cyanide of potassium (deadly poison)
into small cases containing birds, through a hole bored for the
purpose; but it was objectionable —

(I) on the score of its danger to health, should the poisonous
vapour escape; and

(2) because it deliquesced rapidly in any but the driest
atmosphere, by its affinity for damp, and, consequently, often
caused mildew in cases of birds, etc.., into which it had been
introduced. The fumes of sulphur during combustion are, on the
contrary, really of service in destroying insect life, as
evidenced in the fumigation of hospital wards, etc.., but I
cannot tell how anyone may burn sulphur in specimen cases without
half choking himself, and probably setting on fire the fittings
and spoiling the work altogether. It is also objectionable
because it readily discharges certain colours from fabrics,
flowers, and birds’ feathers. My advice is, therefore, to pull to
pieces any case infested with insects, to burn all fittings not
absolutely valuable, and to drench with turpentine all specimens,
together with all the rockwork and fittings desired to be
retained. [Footnote: I would indeed advise the destruction
by burning of the birds themselves even, should they be common
specimens, or easily replaced.]

Crude creosote, in little pots or saucers, is a great
deterrent to the visits of insect plagues; it cannot, however, be
exposed openly, as its scent is overpowering and decidedly
unhealthy for use in private houses. In museums it does very well
if cased up.

With regard to camphor in museums, although it is so
constantly used, I consider it of no use as a deterrent. A
small piece of tallow candle is equally efficacious, and of late
I have had much more faith in insect powders, the best of which
is, I believe, compounded of the petals of the Russian tansy
(Pyrethrum roseum). This has certainly some principle
contained in it not obvious to our senses. It is perfectly
harmless to man, and to domestic animals, but on insects its
action is entirely different. I cannot as yet discover whether
insects eat it, or if its smell overcomes them, whether it
repels, or attracts them to their doom. A series of experiments
has left me just as much in the dark as ever. Certain it is that
I have never found insects among skins over which it has been
strewn.

There is, however, one slight objection to its use, which is
that it stains light-coloured skins, if at all greasy, with its
fine, brownish-yellow dust. This is, however, but a trifle,
easily avoided, in face of its unquestionable value. I have used
it now for many years, and have never had cause to alter my
opinion as to its efficacy. The best only must be procured, from
some well-known wholesale house, price about 3s. per lb. That
sold made up in small quantities is generally adulterated and
useless. No curator should ever be without it, and a small
quantity should always be placed inside a newly-made skin. It can
also be worked up in many of the preservative pastes, or
macerated in spirit as a wash, for the inside of
skins.

Baking or stowing maggot-infected specimens is recommended by
some authors, but I strongly object to it in the case of old or
valuable skins, firstly, because the heat can seldom be properly
regulated, unless in an apparatus specially constructed;
secondly, because heat sufficient to kill the larvae is also
sufficient to crimp or twist some part of the plumage or render
the skin, if an old specimen, too crisp or tender for ultimate
handling; thirdly, because even a moderate degree of heat is
sufficient to set free the fat contained in the skin, and thus
spoil the feathers.

Perhaps the tyro may remark, “But in a preserved and stuffed
skin there ought to be no fat to ooze out.” Quite true, there
ought not to be, but as skins are usually dressed with arsenical
soap, the fat, instead of being dried up, is beautifully
conserved, ready to run out at the slightest provocation, or be
drawn out by the capillary attraction of the threads used in
sewing up — another hard knock for arsenical pastes!

Writing about pastes reminds me that no taxidermist should be
without a pot of flour paste, which is far better and more
cleanly than gum or glue for sticking in loose feathers, etc..
For a small quantity, sufficient to fill a jam-pot, take

No. 31. — Flour Paste.

Good wheat flour, 2 oz.

Essence of cloves, 0.5 a teaspoonful.

Water, 0.5 pint.

Mix the flour with part of the water in a basin, being careful
to crush out all the lumps, and work it up smoothly to the
consistence of thick cream; add the remainder of the water, and
boil for a few minutes in a saucepan. Turn out into a jam-pot,
and when nearly cold stir in the essence of cloves; this latter
gives an agreeable odour to the paste, is not poisonous, and
preserves the paste indefinitely from turning mouldy. A few drops
of carbolic acid may be used instead of the cloves; but in this
case the pot must be labelled “Poison.”

Strong gum water may be made from gum arabic, into which a
little powdered white sugar is stirred. Essence of cloves
prevents mould in this also, unless there be an excess of
water.

A fine paste, useful for paper or photographic work, is made
from rice-flour.

“Dextrine,” in powder, is cheap and strong, easily soluble in
cold water, but as a paste shows up on feathers, etc.., much
more than wheat-flour paste.

Cement, for uniting broken bones or fossils, or to fix shells,
etc.., on tablets, is, says the late Frank Buckland, made
thus

No. 32. — White Cement.

Beeswax, 1 part.

Powdered plaster of Paris (best fine), 5 parts.

Resin, 4 parts.

Warm the edges (when possible) and use the cement warm.

I would advise the plaster being stirred into the other two
ingredients as wanted. The great objection to this and to all the
“coagulines” is that the edges of the specimen require warming,
which cannot always be done.

Another good colourless cement is

No. 33. — White Cement, No. 2.

Gum tragacanth in powder, 1 part.

Gum arabic (acacia) in powder, 1 part.

Glacial acetic acid, a few drops.

When used, moisten the gums with a little of the acetic acid
diluted.

Gum mastic dissolved in alcohol, and white shellac dissolved
in naphtha, are two other white cements.

Where, however, colour does not matter, take

No. 34 — Brown Cement.

Common shellac, 0.25 lb.

Spirits of naphtha, 0.5 pint.

Place them in a bottle in a warm situation on a closed stove,
or in a vessel containing hot water. Be careful of fire. The
edges of bones or undersides of fossils are smeared with this,
tied with string, and left for a day or so to unite.

The reader has now a repertoire of poisonous and harmless
preparations from which he may choose. As for myself, for the
preservation of birds, I pin my faith to formula No. 4, viz., my
Preservative Soap for the inside of the skin, and a wash of
benzoline or turpentine liberally applied from time to time
— say twice a year — to the outside of all uncased or
exposed specimens. This, it will be seen, entirely does away with
the use of any poison, and yet is proved to be of the highest
efficacy.

For those who do not object to expense nor to the use of a
poisonous preparation, a wash of Waterton’s Solution (No. 5), or
the sulphuric ether preparation (No. 18), can be substituted for
benzoline or turpentine. I mention the expense, because only
rectified spirits of wine, or pure sulphuric ether, will do for
birds; the methylated spirit, though of service for washing over
most subjects, is not so good when applied to the delicate
feathers of birds, as it leaves on drying a certain impure
residuum behind it.

For mammals I recommend my formula of burnt alum and saltpetre
(No. 9), followed by a wash of benzoline or turpentine twice a
year, or by any one of the mercurial preparations given.

On a retrospect of this chapter it will, I think, be admitted
that, if I am adverse to the use of any poisonous preparations in
taxidermy, I at least point out the why and wherefore, as also an
alternative course, showing at the same time the benefits and
defects of both systems. I now, therefore, leave the amateur to
choose for himself — bearing in mind the time-honoured
aphorism, chacun à son goût.

Plate II Skeleton
of Peregrine Falcon

SHOWING THE PROPER POSITION OF
THE VARIOUS BOXES.

Explanation: follows:

SKELETON OF PEREGRINE FALCON (above.)

SHOWING THE PROPER POSITION OF THE VARIOUS BOXES.

Explanation:

A, skull; B, upper mandible; C, lower mandible;

D, cervical vertebrae (9);

E, humeri (sing. humerus); F, radius; G, Ulna;

H, carpus, or wrist I and J, metacarpal bones (8); i,
“knuckle” joint;

K, pollex (first digit, or “‘thumb”); K2 and K3 second or
“index” digit, and next or third digit;

L, pelvis or “ossa innominata” ilium, ischium, and pubes
anchylosed;

M, femur; N, tibia; O O, fibula;

P, metatarse, or “tarso-metarsus” (3, sometimes 4 bones);

p, actual “knee” joint; q, “heel,” or tibiotarsal joint;

Q, hallux (first or “big” toe), called in ornithology the
“hind” toe

R, fourth (or outermost) toe; S S sternum, or breast bone.

CHAPTER V.
SKINNING AND PRESERVING BIRDS.

IN order that this shall be a
thoroughly practical chapter, I will, in my method of working,
copy the admirable plan of my old sporting favourite, Col.
Hawker, who, when wishing to note down some difficult point, was
in the habit of doing with his own hands all things pertaining to
the matter at issue, because, as he said, he might not make
mistakes when subsequently writing upon knotty subjects intended
for his readers’ consideration.

I have, therefore, specially procured a starling, as I
consider this bird the very best for the amateur’s purpose, not
only on account of the toughness of the skin, but also because,
being a medium-sized bird, it presents no difficult points in
skinning, and with this bird before me I shall minutely instruct
my pupil, pointing out each step that has to be taken and each
difficulty that is likely to arise.

As I shall have occasion constantly to refer to the various
parts of the skeleton, I now give an engraving of that of the
Peregrine Falcon, in order to help my explanations in the future
(see Plate II.).

Having placed ready for use the skinning knife (see Fig. 11),
the scissors (Fig. 14), and the cobbler’s crooked awl in handle,
a pot of preservative mixture, some cotton wool or wadding, some
tow, and a needle and thread; lay the starling on its back on a
piece of clean paper, the head of the bird pointing from the
operator; then seize the bird by the sides of the head with the
first two fingers and thumb of the left hand in opposition, the
awl held in the palm of the right hand, and a piece of wool
between the right-hand finger and thumb; then insert the point of
the awl between the upper and lower mandibles, and, having opened
them, keep them open with the first finger of the right hand,
removing the piece of wool which should have been previously
placed there by the sportsman (see instructions re shot
birds, at end of Chapter II.). Replacing it with the fresh piece
of wool held in readiness, plug the nostrils in the same
manner.

As even this simple operation will have somewhat disarranged
the feathers of the head and neck, smooth them down with the
fingers, taking care, however, not to stretch the neck in doing
so. The next operation is to hold the left-hand wing with the
left hand, and with the fingers of the right hand break or
disjoint the bone of the wing as close to the body as possible,
i.e., across the “humerus” (E) (in the case of large
birds, or for some special purpose, this bone is often left
intact, but the amateur will be puzzled how to subsequently
arrange it in the skin if unbroken). Repeat this on the other
wing. For those whose fingers are not strong enough to do this
effectually, I recommend a small pair of flat-nosed pliers, some
sizes larger than the “feather pliers” (Fig. 19).

Large birds may have their wings broken at the humeri (E) by
striking them with a stick or hammer in such a manner as not to
break nor seriously disarrange the feathers; the largest-sized
pliers (Fig. 16) may also be used for this purpose, but in that
case a piece of clean rag should be folded in the jaws of the
pliers so as to envelope the upper and under surface of the wing,
in order to protect the feathers from injury. Practice will,
however, point out the best method of doing this. Next take hold
of the legs with the fingers and gently twist them out of joint
at the junction of the tibia and femur.

Now, keeping the head of the bird toward you, part the
feathers away from each side of the sternum or breast-bone; then
with the knife held short in the hand, the point placed exactly
in the centre of the bird (calculating from the bill to the tip
of the tail), make the first incision just on the right side of
the breast bone down to the vent, taking care not to cut so
deeply as to expose the intestines. Now turn the bill towards
your right, and gently lay hold of the cut edge of the skin,
which you see shining whitely in front of you; then with the
point of the knife — the cutting edge kept on the flesh
— gently loosen the skin above, below, and downwards.
Completely reverse the bird, and repeat this for the other
side.

At this stage the body may be held down, with the knife
pressed on the side of the breast bone, and thus the two first
fingers of the left hand may be advantageously employed —
but in a very gentle manner — to loosen the skin around the
upper part of the breast-bone from the inside, while the thumb
regulates the pull from the outside. All must be done with the
feathers kept as much away from the flesh as possible.

Fig. 22 shows the appearance which the specimen should now
present.

The skin being, as it were, nicely “persuaded” from the flesh
(more being done by pushing than by pulling), the legs begin to
appear. Take hold of the one nearest to you with the right hand,
at the same time inserting the fingers of the left inside the
skin; then, by gently pushing up with the right hand, free the
legs sufficiently to show the second joint, where it has been
previously twisted or broken.

Laying down the knife, and picking up the scissors, force
their point underneath the joint, marked P in Plate II., and cut
it completely off; it should then be clear of the flesh, showing
the skin on either side as if it were a stocking turned inside
out. Pull it gently by the claw back into its proper position,
and there leave it, and do the same by the other leg, turning the
bird again for that purpose.

Both the legs should now be entirely free, not holding to the
body at any point. Taking up the knife again, carefully work with
it down toward the tail, and as far round the back as you can get
with safety. Now let the bird rest on its head, as it were, with
the beak from you, and, placing the fingers with the thumb on the
back (which is now underneath), the middle finger on the root of
the tail inside, flanked by the first and third fingers keeping
down the skin on either side, cautiously insert the knife through
the skin of the vent, and cut that free, cutting upward in a
slanting direction; having done this, carefully cut away on the
root of the tail, at the same time freeing it wherever it sticks;
then, when nothing but one bone, that is to say, the last caudal
vertebra, holds it, slip the knife underneath and cut with a
drawing motion upward. The tail is now entirely separated from
the body.

Now advance the fingers of the left hand and seize the bottom
part of the loosened body with the right hand, and by pushing
with the finger-nails, and occasionally using the knife where the
tendons hold the skin, gradually work up the back, turning it
round and round, and working very carefully until the place where
the wings have been previously broken is arrived at. Again lay
down the knife, and taking up the scissors, cut the wing nearest
to you away from the skin; do the same with the other side; and
now the only thing which holds skin and body together is the
neck. Taking the whole of the body in the hand, proceed with the
fingers of the other (using no knife) to gradually cause the skin
to leave its attachment at the neck. With care work over the head
by the same means, and here progress is stopped by the skin being
held on either side of the face by a little membrane; this is the
inner skin of the ears.

Regaining the knife, slip the point underneath, and gradually
lift them out, cutting towards the flesh and not towards the
skin. This done, the skin will appear darker, immediately above
this point. These are the eyes; carefully cut on top of them with
a very gentle motion, until they are skinned to where only a very
thin membrane hides them from view; arrived at this, the
knife-point must be pushed gently underneath, and an upward cut
made, which, if carefully done, entirely severs the eyelids from
the retaining membrane. The exact point shown in Fig. 23 is now
reached.

Fig. 23 —
Skin of Bird Turned Ready for Severance from Body

After this sever the skull from the neck at the point where
the dotted lines A — B are shown in the drawing. This
exposes the brain without cutting off too much at the base of the
cranium, the shape of which is wanted for subsequent operations.
After the body is completely severed, proceed to pull the tongue
out (unless wanted for show) by placing the knife on the other
aside of it in opposition to the thumb, give a smart pull,
keeping an even pressure on, and the tongue will come out with
little or no difficulty.

Next enlarge the orifice at the back of the head by cutting a
triangular piece out towards the palate or roof of the mouth,
scooping the brains out with the point of the knife, having a
small piece of paper in readiness to receive them. During this
operation hold the beak of the bird through the skin of the neck
by the two first fingers, and thumb, the latter being uppermost,
the other fingers being employed in keeping the remainder of the
skin with the feathers out of harm’s way.

Inserting the point of the knife at the back of the eye, place
the thumb on the eyeball and gently pull it out, taking care not
to let the point of the knife cut upward so as to burst the eye,
or the effect will be to liberate the dark-coloured pigment or
the vitreous humour, and thus wet or stain the feathers. Having
done all this, there will still remain some little flesh at the
back of the eye and the junction of the mandibles, and this must
be carefully cut away so as not to dis-articulate the latter. The
Preservative Paste now comes into requisition, and with this the
skull and orbits are well painted inside and out. A little tow,
previously chopped by the medium of a sharp pair of scissors, is
now pushed into the empty skull, with the “stuffing iron,” which
is a small piece of thick wire (see Fig. 21). For large birds the
tow forceps (see Fig. 20) may be conveniently used.

Having neatly filled the head with the tow, proceed to put a
small piece of cotton wadding in each orbit. (Note, be careful
that tow only is pushed into the head, as if never so small a
piece of wadding gets into the cavity of the head it will
effectually prevent any subsequent mounting of the specimen, as,
singular though it may appear, a small piece of wadding is more
than a match for a pointed wire.)

During all this time the neck must be kept as short and as
little stretched as possible. In some birds a line of fat will be
observed extending from the neck to the back or even to the
breast, which must be as carefully as possible scraped off the
skin by using the edge of the knife, guided by the thumb. Having
done this, paint the neck only with the preservative, and lay the
skin on the paper, back upward and tail from you; the under part
of the head in this position points upward.

Place the thumbs of both hands, their nails touching each
other, at the back of the head with the first two fingers of each
hand placed in this wise: forefingers along the side of the face,
second fingers underneath on the top of the skin of the head;
then, by gently pushing with the thumbs and pulling or
scratching, as it were, with the other fingers, gradually force
the head through until the mandibles appear, as also the eyelids.
Let go with the right hand, still keeping the thumb of the left
pressing against the head; and, by gently working with the two
first fingers of the left hand outside the feathers, and by
pulling the beak upward and toward you with the right, the bird
is returned to the position shown in Fig. 22.

As the bird now lies, it is optional whether the flesh is
cleaned away from the root of the tail first or from the legs and
wings. I will, however, in this case take the wing on my right.
Place the right hand underneath, lift the wing as far up into the
skin as possible, and by holding it tightly in that position with
the finger and thumb of the left hand, a ridge of skin becomes
visible, running down each side, and framing in, as it were, a
little oval-shaped piece of flesh, i.e., that lying between the
“radius” and “ulna” The broken bone and flesh of the wing is now
toward you. Clean the flesh away from this and then devote the
attention to the before-named oval-shaped piece of flesh. Putting
the point of the knife down on the right, lift and scoop away
(using the greatest care meanwhile) some small pieces of flesh.
This by degrees reveals the top of another little bone, from
under which all the flesh to be seen must be scraped away; anoint
this freely with the preservative, and return it to its normal
position after tying a small piece of strong thread through the
loop of the bone (in large birds a little tow should be placed in
the cavity).

If this process is too tedious, or not quite comprehended by
the amateur — i.e. the clearing out of the flesh between
the radius and ulna — the smaller bone of the two —
the radius (F, Plate II) may be twisted or cut out entirely,
leaving only the larger bone of the two to clear of flesh.
Sometimes — but this with large birds only — the wing
may be advantageously cut from the outside along its entire
length underneath, the flesh removed, skin dressed, and the cut
carefully sewn up.

Do the same by the other wing, and then push the leg on the
same side up through the skin, pushing the skin down with the
fingers and thumb of the left hand, and pulling with the right,
until you have stripped the skin nearly down to the so-called
“knee,” q (not the proper knee, however, that being
situated higher up — Plate II), or tibio-tarsal
joint. At this joint a bundle of little “leaders,” or muscles,
assemble; cut them away from around the bone (without interfering
with the joint, however), and they will roll up with the flesh to
the head of the bone previously cut off at the proper knee joint,
and can there be easily pulled off. (In practice, it will be
found that retaining the full length of this bone — the
tibia — is not desirable for subsequent operations; it may
therefore be advantageously shortened by one-half.)

Anoint with the preservative and neatly wrap a piece of tow
around the leg-bone (or tibia) to the supposed shape of the flesh
previously removed. Return the leg to its natural position; and
repeat the same on the other side.

The tail is now the only thing left which requires to be freed
from flesh. Keeping the beak still from you, push the tail, with
the left hand, as far up into the body as possible, then clear it
of every particle of flesh by scraping and cutting, taking care
to cut away the oil ducts or glands — usually full of a
thick fat — and being careful also not to cut away the
attachment of the roots of the feathers to the skin; anoint with
the preservative, and return. Several little streaks of fat in
various parts of the skin may now be seen, which must be
carefully scraped away.

The wing bones must now be tied nearly together by the pieces
of thread previously attached; the distance between them varies
with the size of the bird’s body previously removed (this
knowledge is, of course, gained by experience, but amateurs are
recommended to take careful measurements of this and other
analogous points). The whole of the skin of the back, body, and
throat is to be well anointed. Now take the forceps (see Fig.
20), and form a little neck of tow on it, introduce it into the
skin, leaving the end of the tow resting against the back of the
head. Then insert some larger pieces of tow with the fingers or
tongs into the body, and when you have shaped it as nearly as
possible to the original body of the bird — taking care to
nicely observe the adjustment of the several parts — neatly
sew up the skin with a fine needle and thread by an under stitch
on the edges of the skin, drawing it tight after two or three
stitches; and thus proceed until the bottom is reached, avoiding
the common fault of sewing the feathers in with the stitches.

Some few ends of tow will possibly be protruding from the
lower part, which must be cut off before the final stitch. The
bird’s legs are tied one across the other, and the wings pressed
close to the body in the proper position; the neck is also
shortened, and a little narrow band of paper is cut, and placed
underneath the bird, brought round the butts of the wings or
shoulders, and pinned together on the top of the breast; a needle
and thread are inserted through the nostrils, the thread is
brought round underneath the bird’s lower mandible, and is tied
in a knot to keep the beak closed.

In the course of a week or so, when sufficiently dry, the
bandage is removed, and thus we have what is technically called a
“skin.”

This is the loose body method of making skins; perhaps a
better plan is making a body — see farther on — on
wire, which should not come through the top of the head, or on a
piece of stick (a lucifer match with the top broken off will do
for small skins) coming into the base of the skull; this gives a
great support to the neck, and prevents the common fault of the
skin breaking away just above the shoulders.

If great nicety is desired — and neatness in making a
skin is everything — remember particularly not to overstuff
it; it will really require just about half as much packing as you
would at first imagine sufficient to fill it. Be careful as to
the set of the wings, at the shoulders especially; and after
having coaxed every feather with loving care into its proper
position, wrap the whole skin in a sheet of wadding, leaving the
ends open, and put away in a secure place to dry.

Another method of shaping skins whilst drying is described by
Mr. Batty, the well-known American taxidermist, who makes a
drying board for small skins in the following manner (see Fig.
24): Procure a piece of board of the length and width you
require, on which nail on edge 0.75-inch slips of wood two inches
high at intervals required; between these supports stretch stout
cardboard in the form of “gutters.” In these, padded in wadding,
the skins rest until dry.

Fig. 24 —
“Set” or Drying Board for Birds’ Skins.

Often blood and other substances clog and spoil the feathers
of a bird; how to remove these will be found explained in the
chapter on Cleaning Birds’ Skins.

Fig. 25 —
Starling Properly Made Into a Skin With Label
Attached.

In noting the sex of a bird an important matter, only managed
in most cases by the aid of a little dissection — it will
be necessary to cut the body, after it is out of the skin,
through the ribs along the side close to the back, open it, and
look upon the kidneys (dark coloured masses apparently let into
the hollow of the back-bone at the narrowest part of the body)
for the sexual organs.

If a male, there will appear just upon the upper end of the
kidneys, one on each side of the back bone, two little
oval-shaped bodies, usually of a dull white or light yellow tint
(do not mistake the supra-renal capsules — quite yellow,
small, and a little higher up — for these).

If a female, these two small oval bodies will be replaced a
little lower clown by a string or bundle of eggs, very minute in
some seasons, but strongly marked and large in the breeding
season. It is sometimes difficult to tell the sex — in
young birds especially; but a good plan is to get a bird, known
by its plumage to be a male – say a cock sparrow — and a
female bird, and dissect out these organs, putting them in
spirits in separate bottles, the organs of each sex attached to
its part of the bone and kidneys, and keep them for reference
until experience teaches the way to readily decide sexes.

A label is attached to the legs, giving scientific and common
name of bird, sex, locality, and date, and name or initials of
collector. Thus:

In the cases of such birds as the hawks, which have bare
spaces around the eyes (sub, and super-ciliary patches) and
around the base of the beak (cere), note down the colours of
these parts also. In the cases of rare birds the measurements of
the extreme length from tip of beak to tail — again from
inner edge of gape to vent, the bill and tail being measured
separately from those points — should be carefully taken,
as also the length of culmen, carpus, and tarsus, and set down in
inches and tenths, on the label, or in the note book, when the
matter becomes too voluminous. The reference number and name, in
the latter case, will be sufficient for the label, thus keeping
it very small. In ordinary cases, all information, excepting
name, date, and collector’s name, may be written on the back.
Part of the label may be printed ready for filling in.

Another plan of skinning a bird is to work upward instead of
downward, and by raising the skin on top of the breast and throat
to approach the neck, which is then cut off by slipping the point
of the scissors underneath. This gives room for one wing to be
loosened, and ultimately cut off, the other one then easily
follows as a matter of course, and by alternately skinning away
the back and the breast, the legs and the tail are arrived at,
which are treated as before described. This method is useful in
cases where the lower extremities are badly shot or “high,” but
is otherwise objectionable, as, in any other but the most
careful hands, it is apt to stretch or split any delicate skin,
in the attempt to get the shoulders out, but for which I should
have nothing to say against it. Curiously enough, however, it is
more practised by amateurs than by professionals.

One of the most important, however, of all methods of skinning
ever invented, is that known as skinning from under the wing; it
is perhaps more difficult to a beginner than the other way of
skinning, but its advantages are enormous. Supposing you have a
bird very badly shot, or one with its wing half torn off or
ripped underneath, as sometimes happens, you then, instead of
complicating matters by making an incision in another place, take
advantage of the ripped side and cut it open there.

The birds, however, for which this system is invaluable are
sea birds, or all birds having white or very light coloured
breasts. To cut such birds on the breast practically ruins them,
for however well a sea bird’s skin may be cleaned, there still
remains some little greasiness between the roots of the feathers;
and in spite of the most careful sewing, the capillary action of
the thread used in stitching up (aided, of course, by the
position of the mounted bird — breast downward) is
sufficient to draw to the surface whatever oily fat or grease
remains in the skin; and though it may not show for a few months,
yet, sooner or later, a rust coloured line of grease appears, and
in spite of all cleaning will reappear, and gradually spread over
the breast, destroying the beauty of perhaps a unique
specimen.

To skin a bird from under the wing, select the worst side, or
that injured the most by shot, etc.., and laying the bird with
that side uppermost, make an incision from just above the leg to
just under the wing. Push the leg-bone up, and cut it off with a
pair of scissors; then work the skin away a little from the back,
and as much as possible from the breast, gradually working your
way until you see the wing-bone, which cut off. Careful skinning
brings you to the neck and windpipe, which also cut off. The
whole of one side of the bird is now skinned out with the
exception of the tail; come downward on the opposite side to your
incision, and across the breast until you can cut off the
remaining wing; having done this, keep skinning downward until
the leg is arrived at, and cut off. Nothing now holds the skin to
the body but the tail-bone, which separate. Clean and finish the
bird in the ordinary way.

I shall now suppose that, instead of making a skin (as
previously described), you desire to stuff the specimen with the
ultimate idea of its forming part of a collection mounted in the
same manner as the birds are mounted in the British Museum
— namely, on turned stands as perches; or, as is usual now,
to form a unit of a characteristic group mounted in a more
artistic manner in a shade or a case.

For the purpose of this lesson I have “relaxed” the original
starling we before made into a skin, and shall now mount it,
keeping to one bird, so as not to confuse the learner.

In “setting up” a bird we require to use wires. The sizes of
wires are determined by gauges. Thus the smallest sized wire made
is that known as Gauge 28. This and the two following numbers, 26
and 27, are only required for the humming birds; 28 is, however,
a good size for the least. 24 will be found a good size for the
smaller kinds of warblers and finches up to canaries. 21 is a
useful general size for a great number of small birds, and will
do for such a bird as the hawfinch. 19 is a good size for
thrushes and starlings, and will also do very well for squirrels.
16 is a good useful size for many things — will do for such
birds as the landrail or pigeons. 13 is a good size for such
birds as parrots, and that or the next largest size will do for
owls. 12 will do for the larger hawks, such as the peregrine
falcon, etc.., and for small dogs. 9 is more suitable for foxes
and larger dogs. 7 will do for eagles. 5, 3, and 1 approach so
nearly to bars as to be fit only for the larger animals.

As a rule, however, practice enables a person to use smaller
sized wires than appears possible to him at first. I would here
also recommend that “galvanised” be used instead of the common
“annealed” wire (never use “hard” wire) for all purposes,
excepting for large animals. Its advantages are very great, as I
can personally testify.

If you decide on mounting your bird on a turned stand, you
will, if not possessing a lathe yourself, have to call in the
assistance of a turner, who will, for a small sum, turn the
requisite stands, which may be either in mahogany, boxwood,
ebony, or ivory, according to your taste and the length of your
pocket. If, on the contrary, you decide to ultimately mount your
specimen in a case or a shade, you had better provide yourself
with some wire of a suitable strength, and some tow, which latter
you will proceed to wrap round the wire to within a couple of
inches of one end — forming, in fact, an artificial twig,
which you may bend to any shape, riveting the unbound end through
a piece of wood of sufficient weight to balance the bird when set
up.

Having, then, before you, as the first indispensable adjunct,
the turned stand or artificial twig (a natural one does in some
cases), the stuffing irons, file, crooked awl, pliers, scissors,
wire, tow, needle and thread, pins, and some fine darning cotton,
which is called “wrapping cotton,” you proceed to business thus:
The bird being skinned, all the flesh cleaned out, and well
dressed with the preservative up to the point previously
described — leg bones being wrapped and wings being tied
— lay the bird down on a clean piece of paper.

Having selected the wire of two sizes, of a suitable
thickness, the thinner for the body wire and the other for the
leg wires, cut the three, with the aid of the pliers, a little
longer than the body and legs respectively, pointing each wire at
one end with a file — not rounding the points, but leaving
them with cutting edges.

Taking up the thicker or body wire in the right hand and some
tow in the left, commence at about an inch from the point to
tightly and neatly bind on the tow in the shape of the neck, and
of nearly the same length that the neck was before being cut off
— that is to say, making the artificial neck somewhat
longer than the neck of the skin (if properly taken off and not
abnormally lengthened) appears to be. The reason for this is that
the natural neck, being carried between the clavicles forming the
furculum or “merry-thought,” is bent downward and forward between
them when perching (see Fig. 22); hence the artificial neck must
imitate nature so far as that, when inserted in the skin, it may
be also bent forward and downward, and afterwards thrown back on
the body in a natural position.

Of course, if a bird’s neck is to be represented very short,
as it will be in certain attitudes, the artificial neck must be
almost, if not quite, done away with; indeed, the shortening of
the neck of the mounted specimen depends almost entirely on the
absence of stuffing above the shoulders. Be sure, also, not to
stuff the skin too wide about the shoulders; if so, the “butts”
of the wings will never come into place, nor allow the feathers
of the breast to be brought over them in a natural manner.

It is exceedingly difficult to instruct in these niceties of
detail; close observation — note a canary or any song bird
at rest — added to experience, will alone teach the amateur
these points. To excel in mounting animals the arts of drawing
and modelling from living examples must be cultivated; the
amateur taxidermist thus gains the requisite knowledge to help
him in his art. [Footnote: It may perhaps, be necessary to
warn the non-scientific that whenever I speak of animals I
include fishes, reptiles, and birds with the mammals.]

Having shaped the neck to your own satisfaction, proceed
thence to form the body, by continuously wrapping the tow round
and round the wire, keeping the shape, however, somewhat flat on
the sides, full on the breast and back, and narrowest at the
lower extremity of the body, where it comes in between the legs
to the tail. About an inch of the wire should now be left
unbound, which turn up on the back of the false body to prevent
the tow slipping off; next take some cotton, which wind all over
the false body to keep the tow in its place, adding, as you go
on, small pieces of tow, and binding them on where depressions or
faults appear.

This being finished secundum artem, insert the pointed
end of the wire or false neck up the neck of the specimen,
pushing the point of the wire right through the skull until it
comes out at the crown of the head. Now gradually, by persuasive
means, pull the skin over the false body; and lift the starling
up and observe what faults are apparent — possibly a little
difficulty exists at the shoulders, if so, press them in with the
thumbs, and then note if there are any apparently hollow places;
if so, fill them out with a little more tow. See that the back is
nicely sloped, that the breast is full enough, and especially if
it be even and narrow between the legs. Having observed all these
points with great exactness, proceed to nicely sew up the skin
with the stitch previously mentioned.

Then select two other pieces of wire of the right size, and
point them each at one end. (Note. — The wires are
generally a size or so stronger for the legs than for the body.)
Taking a wire in the right hand, open the claws of the bird with
the other, so as to expose the sole of the foot, into which push
the point of the wire, forcing it up the leg on its under side
between the skin and the bone — be careful how you pass
under the so-called “knee” joint. Pulling the leg now downward
and upward, that is to say, toward the breast, push the wire
right through the false body to the other side, until it comes
out under the wing on the side farthest from the leg. With a
small pair of pliers turn the point downward, pull the wire at
the foot, and it is thus clenched and firmly fixed; do the same
with the other leg.

Remember that if the leg wires are not firmly clenched in the
made body, and are not perfectly stiff and tight, all your labour
goes for nothing. Now bring together the skin at the lower part
with your fingers, and push a small wire through the root of the
tail up into the made body.

Picking the bird up with one hand, bend the legs into their
proper position, bend the neck a little downward and backward on
the front, then forward and downward from the back of the head.
Place the leg wires through two holes bored in the crosspiece of
the stand, or through the natural twig, or wind them round on the
false twig and make them secure. Run a fine pin (entomological
pin, No. 2) through the shafts of the feathers of the tail to
cause them to dry in proper shape, then neatly insert the eyes
(putting a small piece of putty in the orbit previously),
bringing the eyelids over with a fine needle, being exceedingly
careful not to rip them, and not to have them too staring, a very
common fault with the amateur. See that the wings are fixed in
their right places with one or more pins or wires.

Place one pin in the centre of the breast and in the middle of
the back (all of these pins must be left half-way out), proceed
to nicely arrange the feathers in their proper places by the aid
of the crooked awl and feather pliers (see Fig. 19). Having done
this till it appears as nearly like the living bird as possible
(which constant practice and close attention alone will enable
you to do), take the “wrapping cotton,” and, having made a loop
on one end, fix it to the pin on the back. Bring it across to the
pin on one of the wings, and across in a zig-zag manner to the
other pins in the wings, binding down the back first. Then attend
to the breast and under tail coverts, taking care to bind down
more securely than the others those feathers which will start up
(usually the upper wing coverts). A careful binder working
properly will shape his bird by binding. Tie the mandibles if
they are wanted closed, and cut the wire off the head, as it
permanently raffles the feathers if left until the specimen is
dry.

This is binding for a closed-winged bird; but for one whose
wings are to be thrown up, say a hawk on flight, the modus
operandi is slightly different; wire stays and card braces now
supplement “wrapping” cotton. The bird being opened on its worst
side is stuffed in the usual manner as far as getting the neck up
into the skull, the attached body is now bolted through near the
top of the cut by the wing, by a long wire sufficiently strong to
keep the bird suspended; this wire, being firmly clenched
on the opposite side of the body to the cut, has its free end, of
course, depending from the incision under the wing.

The next thing to do is to support the wings in the position
necessary to represent flight. For this purpose, point four wires
sufficiently long to extend the wings, and to come through the
body to be clenched. Two of these wires should be of a size
thinner than the other two. Select the wing on the side of the
body farthest from the cut, and enter the point of one of the
thickest wires in the wing at the end of the part called the
“metacarpus” (i, Plate II); push it gently along between
the bone and the skin — meanwhile holding the wing with the
left-hand fingers — along the side of or between the
“radius and ulna,” finally pushing it into the body at the
shoulder, and clenching it when it comes through, which it should
do under the opposite wing at the cut. It is often very difficult
or impossible to get the wire to go through the “carpus;” it
will suffice, therefore, if, after coming along the metacarpus,
it just misses the carpus and enters the skin again at the
junction of the radius and ulna. If properly managed, the wire
will be snugly hidden in the skin of the wing by the feathers of
the parts along which it has travelled.

Do likewise with the other wing, but this wire often cannot be
carried right through to the opposite side, and must therefore be
firmly secured in the body on its own side; next fix the legs in
the manner before detailed, or, as the bird is to be represented
on flight, the wires need only be entered at the tibia-tarsal
joint (q, Plate II). Push a wire in the tail, and sew up
the incision under the wing.

The bird has now its wings, legs, and tail fixed, and the free
end of the supporting wire is sticking out from under the wing.
Fix this wire firmly through the top of a narrow strip of board
at such a distance as to miss the outspread wing; let this board
also be long enough to allow of one end being fixed in a vice or
screwed to the edge of a table, whilst the hawk or other bird
clears its surface. The bird being now “shaped up” a little, take
the two thinnest wires and enter the point of one in each wing at
the end of the fleshy part of the wing (really the bird’s middle
finger), or through the base of the first quill, an inch or so
from the other wire. This last wire travels along the
outside of the feathers under the wing, and is
consequently not hidden at all when pushed into the body: its use
is to curve the wing upon it into a graceful shape, and when the
bird is sufficiently dry it is pulled out, the first wire at the
shoulder being quite sufficient to bear up the wing when set.

As, however, the wing feathers start up here and there, and do
not readily conform to all the curves of the wires, the wiring
and binding must be supplemented by “braces,” which are narrow
strips of cardboard pinned in pairs at intervals below and above
the wing, and held in position by pins running through both
braces from the under to the upper surface. For explanation of
this see Plate I (Frontispiece), a hawk properly “set up” and
“bound” to represent it swooping on its prey.

Putty sometimes greases light-coloured skins around the eyes;
it will be well, therefore, to insert in its stead a little
“pipe” or modelling clay worked up stiff. (Clay will be treated
of in a subsequent chapter. It will be found useful for the faces
of some sea-birds and hawks, and indeed for the greater part of
the body and legs of large birds. The Cassowary in the Leicester
Museum has been worked up largely in this manner.)

Steel pins with black bead heads are first-rate helps to
binding. They are sold in various lengths, and being long, sharp,
and fine, quite supersede ordinary pins.

Audi alteram partem! Let us now take the evidence of
Waterton:

“You will observe how
beautifully the feathers of a bird are arranged; one falling over
the other in nicest order, and that, where this charming harmony
is interrupted, the defeat, though not noticed by an ordinary
spectator, will appear immediately to the eye of a naturalist.
Thus, a bird not wounded, and in perfect feather, must be
procured, if possible, for the loss of feathers can seldom be
made good; and where the deficiency is great all the skill of the
artist will avail him little in his attempt to conceal the
defect; because, in order to hide it, he must contract the skin,
bring down the upper feathers and shove in the lower ones, which
would throw all the surrounding parts into contortion.

You will also observe that the whole of the skin does not
produce feathers, and that it is very tender where the feathers
do not grow. The bare parts are admirably formed for expansion
about the throat and stomach, and they fit into the different
cavities of the body at the wings, shoulder, rump, and thighs,
with wonderful exactness, so that in stuffing the bird, if you
make an even rotund surface of the skin, where the cavities
existed, in lieu of re-forming them, all symmetry, order, and
proportion are lost for ever.

You must lay it down as an absolute rule that the bird is to
be entirely skinned, otherwise you can never succeed in forming a
true and pleasing specimen.

You will allow this to be just, after reflecting a moment on
the nature of the fleshy parts and tendons, which are often left
in. First, they require to be well seasoned with aromatic spices;
secondly, they must be put into the oven to dry; thirdly, the
heat of the fire, and the natural tendency all cured flesh has to
shrink and become hard, render the specimen withered, distorted,
and too small; fourthly, the inside then becomes like a ham or
any other dried meat. Ere long the insects claim it as their own,
the feathers begin to drop off, and you have the hideous
spectacle of death in ragged plumage.

Wire is of no manner of use, but, on the contrary, a great
nuisance, for, when it is introduced, a disagreeable stiffness
and disarrangement of symmetry follow.

The head and neck can be placed in any attitude; the body
supported, the wings closed, extended, or elevated; the tail
depressed, raised, or expanded; the thighs set horizontal, or
oblique, without any aid from wire. Cotton will effect all
this.

A very small proportion of the skull bone — say from the
fore part of the eyes to the bill — is to be left in,
though even this is not absolutely necessary. Part of the wing
bones, the jaw bones, and half the thigh bones remain. Everything
else — flesh, fat, eyes, bones, brain and tendons —
are all to be taken away.

While dissecting, it will be of use to keep in mind that, in
taking off the skin from the body, by means of your fingers and a
little knife, you must try to shove it, in lieu of pulling it,
lest you stretch it.

That you must press as lightly as possible on the bird, and
every now and then take a view of it, to see that the feathers
are all right.

That, when you come to the head, you must take care that the
body of the skin rests on your knee; for, if you allow it to
dangle from your hand, its own weight will stretch it too
much.

That throughout the whole operation, as fast as you detach the
skin from the body you must put cotton immediately between the
body and it, and this will effectually prevent any fat, blood, or
moisture from coming in contact with the plumage. Here it may be
observed that on the belly you find an inner skin which keeps the
bowels in their place.

By a nice operation with the knife you can cut through the
outer skin, and leave the inner skin whole. Attention to this
will render your work very clean, so that, with a little care in
other parts, you may skin a bird without even soiling your finger
ends.

As you can seldom get a bird without shooting it, a line or
two on this head will be necessary. If the bird be still alive,
press it hard with your finger and thumb just behind the wings,
and it will soon expire. Carry it by the legs, and then, the body
being reversed, blood cannot escape down the plumage through the
shot holes.

As blood will often have issued out before you have laid hold
of the bird, find out the shot holes by dividing the feathers
with your fingers and blowing on them, and then, with your
penknife or the leaf of a tree, carefully remove the clotted
blood, and put a little cotton in the hole. If, after all, the
plumage has not escaped the marks of blood, or if it has imbibed
slime from the ground, wash the part in water without soap, and
keep gently agitating the feathers with your fingers till they
are quite dry. Were you to wash them and leave them to dry by
themselves they would have a very mean and shrivelled
appearance.

In the act of skinning a bird you must either have it upon a
table or upon your knee. Probably you will prefer your knee,
because, when you cross one knee over the other, and have the
bird upon the uppermost, you can raise it to your eye, or lower
it at pleasure, by means of the foot on the ground, and then your
knee will always move in unison with your body, by which much
stooping will be avoided and lassitude prevented.

With these precautionary hints in mind, we will now proceed to
dissect a bird. Supposing we take a hawk. The little birds will
thank us with a song for his death, for he has oppressed them
sorely; and in size he is just the thing. His skin is also pretty
tough and the feathers adhere to it.

We will put close by us a little bottle of the solution of
corrosive sublimate in alcohol, also a stick like a common
knitting needle, and a handful or two of cotton.

Now fill the mouth and nostrils of the bird with cotton, and
place it upon your knee on its back with its head pointing to
your left shoulder. Take hold of the knife with your two first
fingers and thumb, the edge upwards. You must not keep the point
of the knife perpendicular to the body of the bird, because, were
you to hold it so, you would cut the inner skin of the belly and
thus let the bowels out. To avoid this, let your knife be
parallel to the body, and then you will divide the outer skin
with great ease.

Begin on the belly below the breastbone, and cut down the
middle quite to the vent. This done, put the bird in any
convenient position, and separate the skin from the body till you
get at the middle joint of the thigh. Cut it through, and do no
more there at present, except introducing cotton all the way on
that side from the vent to the breastbone. Do exactly the same on
the opposite side.

Now place the bird perpendicular, the breast resting on your
knee, with its back towards you. Separate the skin from the body
on each side at the vent, and never mind at present the part from
the vent to the root of the tail. Bend the tail gently down to
the back, and while your fingers and thumb are keeping down the
detached parts of the skin on each side of the vent, cut quite
across and deep till you see the backbone near the oil gland at
the root of the tail. Sever the backbone at the joint, and then
all the root of the tail together, with the oil gland dissected
from the body. Apply plenty of cotton.

After this seize the end of the backbone with the finger and
thumb, and now you can hold up the bird clear of your knee and
turn it round and round as occasion requires.

While you are holding it thus, contrive, with the help of your
other hand and knife, by cutting and shoving, to get the skin
pushed up till you come to where the wings join on the body.

Forget not to apply cotton; cut these joints through, add
cotton, and gently push the skin over the head, cut out the roots
of the ears, which lie very deep in the head, and continue
skinning till you reach the middle of the eye; cut the nictating
membrane quite through, otherwise you would tear the orbit of the
eye; and after this nothing difficult intervenes to prevent your
arriving at the root of the bill.

When this is effected cut away the body, leaving a little bit
of skull, just as much as will reach to the fore-part of the eye,
clean well the jaw bones, fasten a little cotton at the end of
your stick, dip it into the solution, and touch the skull and
corresponding parts of the skin, as you cannot well get at these
places afterwards.

From the time of pushing the skin over the head you are
supposed to have had the bird resting upon your knee. Keep it
there still, and with great caution and tenderness return the
head through the inverted skin, and when you see the beak
appearing pull it very gently till the head comes out unruffled
and unstained.

You may now take the cotton out of the mouth. Cut away all the
remaining flesh from the palate, and whatever may have remained
at the under jaw.

Here is now before you the skin without loss of any feathers,
and all the flesh, fat, and unclean bones out of it, except the
middle joint of the wings, one bone of the thighs, and the fleshy
root of the tail. The extreme point of the wing is very small,
and has no flesh on it, comparatively speaking, so that it
requires no attention except touching it with the solution from
the outside. Take all the flesh from the remaining joint of the
wing, and tie a thread about four inches long to the end of it,
touch all with the solution, and put the wing bone back into its
place. In baring this bone you must by no means pull the skin.
You would have it to pieces beyond all doubt, for the ends of the
long feathers are attached to the bone itself. You must push off
the skin with your thumb and forefinger. Now skin the thigh,
quite to the bone, cut away all flesh and tendons, and bare the
bone, form an artificial thigh round it with cotton, apply the
solution, and draw back the skin over the artificial thigh; the
same to the other thigh.

Lastly, proceed to the tail, take out the inside of the oil
gland, remove all the remaining flesh from the root till you see
the ends of the tail feathers, give it the solution and replace
it. Now take out all the cotton which you have been putting into
the body from time to time to preserve the feathers from grease
and stain.

Place the bird upon your knee, on its back, tie together the
two threads which you had fastened to the ends of the wing
joints, leaving exactly the same space betwixt them as your
knowledge of anatomy informs you existed there when the bird was
entire, hold the skin open with your finger and thumb, and apply
the solution to every part of the inside. Neglect the head and
neck at present; they are to receive it afterwards.

Fill the body moderately with cotton lest the feathers on the
belly should be injured. Whilst you are about the following
operation you must recollect that half of the thigh — or,
in other words, one joint of the thigh bone — has been out
away. Now, as this bone never moved perpendicular to the body,
but, on the contrary, in an oblique direction, of course, as soon
as it is cut off, the remaining part of the thigh and leg, having
nothing to support them obliquely, must naturally fall to their
perpendicular; hence the reason why the legs appear too long. To
correct this, take your needle and thread, fasten the end round
the bone inside, and then push the needle through the skin just
opposite to it; look on the outside, and after finding the needle
amongst the feathers, tack up the thigh under the wing with
several strong stitches. This will shorten the thigh and render
it quite capable of supporting the weight of the body without the
help of wire.

This done take out every bit of cotton except the artificial
thighs, and adjust the wing bones (which are connected by the
thread) in the most even manner possible, so that one joint does
not appear to be lower than the other, for unless they are quite
equal the wings themselves will be unequal when you come to put
them in their proper attitude. Here, then, rests the shell of the
poor hawk ready to receive from your skill and judgment, the
size, the shape, the features, and expression it bad ere death
and your dissecting hand brought it to its present still and
formless state. The cold hand of death stamps deep its mark upon
the prostrate victim. When the heart ceases to beat and the blood
no longer courses through the veins, the features collapse, and
the whole frame seems to shrink within itself. If, then, you have
formed your idea of the real appearance of the bird from a dead
specimen you will be in error. With this in mind, and at the same
time forming your specimen a trifle larger than life to make up
for what it will lose in drying, you will reproduce a bird that
will please you.

It is now time to introduce the cotton for an artificial body
by means of the little stick like a knitting needle; and without
any other aid or substance than that of this little stick and
cotton your own genius must produce those swellings and cavities,
that just proportion, that elegance and harmony of the whole, so
much admired in animated nature, so little attended to in
preserved specimens. After you have introduced the cotton, sew up
the orifice you originally made in the belly, beginning at the
vent. And from time to time, till you arrive at the last stitch,
keep adding a little cotton in order that there may be no
deficiency there. Lastly, dip your stick into the solution and
put it down the throat three or four times in order that every
part may receive it.

When the head and neck are filled with cotton quite to your
liking, close the bill as in nature. A little bit of beeswax at
the end of it will keep the mandibles in their proper place. A
needle must be stuck into the lower mandible perpendicularly.

You will shortly see the use of it. Bring also the feet
together by a pin, and then run a thread through the knees, by
which you may draw them to each other as near as you judge
proper. Nothing now remains to be added but the eyes. With your
little stick make a hollow in the cotton within the orbit, and
introduce the glass eyes through the orbit; adjust the orbit to
them as in nature, and that requires no other fastener.

Your close inspection of the eyes of animals will already have
informed you that the orbit is capable of receiving a much larger
body than that part of the eye which appears within it when in
life, so that were you to proportion your eye to the size the
orbit is capable of receiving it would be far too large.
Inattention to this has caused the eyes of every specimen in the
best cabinets of natural history to be out of all proportion. To
prevent this, contract the orbit, by means of a very small
delicate needle and thread, at that part of it farthest from the
beak. This may be done with such nicety that the stitch cannot be
observed, and thus you have the artificial eye in true
proportion.

After this touch the bill, orbits, feet, and former oil-gland
at the root of the tail with the solution, and then you have
given to the hawk everything necessary, except attitude and a
proper degree of elasticity — two qualities very
essential.

Procure any common ordinary box, fill one end of it about
three-fourths up to the top with cotton, forming a sloping plane.
Make a moderate hollow in it to receive the bird. Now take the
hawk in your hands, and after putting the wings in order, place
it in the cotton with its legs in a sitting posture. The head
will fall down; never mind. Get a cork and run three pins into
the end, just like a three-legged stool. Place it under the
bird’s bill, and run the needle, which you formerly fixed there,
into the head of the cork. This will support the bird’s head
admirably. If you wish to lengthen the neck, raise the cork by
putting more cotton under it. If the head is to be brought
forward, bring the cork nearer to the end of the box. If it
requires to be set backwards on the shoulders, move back the
cork.

As in drying the back part of the neck will shrink more than
the fore part, and thus throw the beak higher than you wish it to
be — putting you in mind of a star-gazing horse —
prevent this fault by tying a thread to the beak and fastening it
to the end of the box with a pin or needle. If you choose to
elevate the wings, do so, and support them with cotton; and
should you wish to have them particularly high, apply a little
stick under each wing, and fasten the ends of them to the side of
the box with a little beeswax.

If you would have the tail expanded, reverse the order of the
feathers, beginning from the two middle ones. When dry, replace
them in their true order, and the tail will preserve for ever the
expansion you have given it. Is the crest to be erect? Move the
feathers in a contrary direction to that in which they lie for a
day or two, and it will never fall down after.

Place the box anywhere in your room out of the influence of
the sun, wind, and fire, for the specimen must dry very slowly if
you wish to reproduce every feature. On this account the solution
of corrosive sublimate is uncommonly serviceable, for, at the
same time that it totally prevents putrefaction, it renders the
skin moist and flexible for many days. While the bird is drying,
take it out and replace it in its position once every day. Then,
if you see that any part begins to shrink into disproportion, you
can easily remedy ft.

The small covert feathers of the wings are apt to rise a
little, because the skin will come in contact with the bone which
remains in the wing. Pull gently the part that rises with your
finger and thumb for a day or two; press the feathers down; the
skin will adhere no more to the bone, and they will cease to
rise.

Every now and then, touch and re-touch all the different parts
of the feathers, in order to render them distinct and visible,
correcting at the same time any harshness or unnatural risings or
sinkings, flatness, or rotundity. This is putting the last
finishing touch to it.

In three or four days the feet lose their natural elasticity,
and the knees begin to stiffen. When you observe this, it is time
to give the legs any angle you wish, and arrange the toes for a
standing position, or curve them to your finger. If you wish to
set the bird on a branch, bore a little hole under each foot a
little way up the leg, and, having fixed two proportional spikes
on the branch, you can in a moment transfer the bird from your
finger to it, and from it to your finger, at pleasure.

When the bird is quite dry, pull the thread out of the knees,
take away the needle, etc.., from under the bill, and all is
done.

In lieu of being stiff with wires, the cotton will have given
a considerable elasticity to every part of your bird, so that
when perching on your finger, if you press it down with the other
hand, it will rise again. You need not fear that your hawk will
alter, or its colours fade.

The alcohol has introduced the sublimate into every part and
pore of the skin, quite to the roots of the feathers. Its use is
twofold: First, it, has totally prevented all tendency to
putrefaction, and thus a sound skin has attached itself to the
roots of the feathers. You may take hold of a single one, and
from it suspend five times the weight of the bird; you may jerk
it, it will still adhere to the akin, and, after repeated trials,
often break short. Secondly, as no part of the skin has escaped
receiving particles of sublimate contained in the alcohol, there
is not a spot exposed to the depredation of insects; for they
will never venture to attack any substance which has received
corrosive sublimate.

You are aware that corrosive sublimate is the most fatal
poison to insects that is known. It is anti-putrescent, so is
alcohol, and they are both colourless. Of course, they cannot
leave a stain behind them. The spirit penetrates the pores of the
skin with wonderful velocity, deposits invisible parts of the
sublimate, and flies off. The sublimate will not injure the skin,
and nothing can detach it from the part where the alcohol has
left it.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

All the feathers require to be touched with the solution in
order that they may be preserved from the depredation of the
moth. The surest way of proceeding is to immerse the bird in the
solution of corrosive sublimate, and then dry it before you begin
to dissect it.” — (Waterton’s “Wanderings in South
America.”)

On reference to the
instructions given previously, and those last quoted, it will be
seen that the two systems are diametrically opposed to each
other. I will, therefore, now point out the objections to a
general use of Waterton’s plan.

First, let me premise that I entirely agree with him in his
opening paragraph as to selecting, when practicable, a bird as
little damaged as possible; but I need not remind professionals,
or amateurs of some practice, how seldom these conditions exist,
especially in the instance of birds sent to them for mounting, by
people totally ignorant of the first principles of taxidermy.
Where a great number of feathers are missing, the loss must be
repaired by the insertion of similar feathers placed one by one
in position by the aid of strong paste, in which a little of the
corrosive sublimate preparation (see chapter on Preservatives,
ante) or carbolic acid has previously been stirred. He is
also quite right when he insists upon the specimen not being
stuffed as a round ball of feathers, as some tyros are in the
habit of doing, and also when he says that the bird must be well
skinned.

With the next paragraph, as to the uselessness of wire, I
totally disagree, and for this reason, that, although I have
myself proved it possible — having many years ago followed
Waterton’s instructions — to mount a bird entirely without
wire, still it is at the best but an amateur’s “dodge;” and I can
fearlessly assert that it will not stand the test of work and
expediency. It is, in fact, impossible to dispense with wire, if
taxidermy is to be followed as a profession.

As to putting cotton wool between the flesh and the skin,
practice will enable one to do without this. To me it would be a
great nuisance, unless in the case of much grease, of persistent
bleeding, or clots of extravasated blood occurring. All the rest
of the instructions on skinning are sound and practical, except
where he advises the knee to be used instead of a table. A little
reflection, or, better still, a trial, will convince anyone that
nothing can compare in practice with a table or bench for
comfortable working.

I do not hold, either, with the total removal of the skull.
For instance, how are you to exhibit the superciliary ridge which
gives so distinctive a character to the very bird Waterton
selects — the hawk — if you cut it away? I have tried
both plans, and I unhesitatingly say that you cannot give
character to the heads of the larger birds if you remove the
skull (unless, of course, you choose to model it up in clay,
etc.., as in the heads of mammals), though I agree that you
must free the skin from all its surroundings. I have at the
present moment several birds (set up by a man in the West of
England), in which the skulls have been removed; the skin has
shrunk in at the back of the head and at the mandibles; and in
one instance — an osprey — the bird has entirely lost
its nobility and eagle-like appearance by the removal of the
ridge above the eye.

I cannot urge the advisability of making the body larger to
allow for shrinking, inasmuch as in the case of certain birds
— notably gulls — which should present an even’
surface on the breast, the opposite effect will be produced if
the false body is unduly large, as then, in place of the evenness
so desirable, a division will appear in the centre of the body,
which entirely mars the beautiful symmetry of the sea-bird’s
breast. No perceptible shrinkage can, however, occur if the body
is properly made and packed; and here is shown the vast
superiority of the made body of well-wrapped tow over that made
of loose cotton inserted in the skin, bit by bit.

The eyes I prefer to insert in the larger birds after the
specimen is dry, as then any little fault in the shape of the
head is easily rectified through the orbit, the eyelid, of
course, being previously relaxed (with cotton wool dipped in warm
water) to do this and to receive the artificial eye.

Waterton’s method of setting up birds may be dismissed in a
few words; it is impracticable for anyone but an amateur who has
unlimited time at his disposal, and who does not object to spend
about a couple of days over one specimen, and who has also ample
room for the large collection of different-sized boxes he must
accumulate.

In using the corrosive sublimate the student will do well to
carefully read the chapter on Preservatives, and then make up his
mind. I may here mention, however, that I should not advise
anyone to work on a bird previously saturated with a solution of
corrosive sublimate.

It has been said, De mortuis nil nisi bonum; but, while
fully acknowledging the force of the remark, as also the great
scientific attainments and love for natural history which
distinguished the illustrious traveller, I cannot allow anyone
who reads his entertaining works to be misled into wasting time
in an unprofitable manner.

Another way of setting up a bird may be described as follows:
Provide yourself with four wires — two of which are for the
legs, a long one for the body, and a shorter one for the wings;
let us suppose we have another starling in front of us. For this
bird take a suitable piece of wire about three inches long
(pointed at both ends), and bend it down at each end for the
distance of an inch, which of course leaves one inch in the
middle at a right angle to each end; this is called the
wing-bearer. Then place a little piece of tow inside the skin to
fit along the back, and on to the top of this lay the
wing-bearer, pushing the pointed ends down and into the hollows
of the wing-bones (which must be left nearly their full length to
admit of this).

Next take the body wire, also sharpened at both ends, and a
little longer than you require, and at a sufficient distance from
one end form with the pliers a loop similar to Fig. 1, so that it
comes about the centre of the projected body; one end will thus
be much longer from the loop than the other. Run one end (the
longest) right up the body to come out at the crown of the head
(the head itself being previously stuffed), push it through a
sufficient distance, so that the looped end falls within the
incision of the skin; so soon as it is passed inside pull the
looped end down, and push its point through the root of the tail;
the loop should now, if accurately calculated, come just in the
centre of the body incision.

Pack underneath the wire at all points with little pieces of
finely cut tow, not forgetting the neck. The wire should now be
protected from touching the bird on its underside. Now take the
leg wires, point them and pass them up the legs as before
described; when they appear within the skin by the side of the
legs, push the ends of each one through the little loop on the
body wire, and by the aid of the small pliers and your finger and
thumb twist them tightly up or down the main wire. If properly
done, the bird should be capable of being lifted by one leg wire
and should feel perfectly stiff and firm. Proceed by the addition
of cut tow to gradually form the body, which, when arranged to
your liking, sew up.

This, in contradistinction to the other method, is called the
soft body, and is not a plan which I at all recommend. Sometimes
a cork is pushed on at the main or body wire to act in the place
of the loop; the leg wires are then pushed through and clenched
on the other side, and the skin is filled with cut tow as
before.

Another system of forming an artificial body for a bird is by
means of “peat.” [Footnote: “Peat” is compressed vegetable
fibre cut from old bogs, and is sold by the dealers, in dried
cakes about 1 foot long by 6 inches by 2 inches.] Having
provided yourself with one of these bricks of peat, you cut it
with a sharp knife to as near the shape required as possible,
having the natural body before you as a guide, finally inserting
it in the bird.

My objection to the use of peat for this purpose is, first,
the dust and dirt caused by the waste pieces; and, secondly, the
fact that birds mounted on this system have a tendency to look
“wooden,” as, unlike a body formed of tow, that made of peat is
stiff and unyielding, and, therefore, after it is once in the
skin, it cannot be pressed into shape where defects appear, and
is of course not so easily altered. After a long and patient
trial of the peat body, I have become convinced of its many
disadvantages, and have of late years returned to my first plan
— the body made of well wrapped tow — nor do I think
anything will compare with it, for the reasons above stated. Peat
in the case of very large birds (ostriches, etc..) and mammals
is useful, but for the ordinary run of birds I decidedly veto its
application.

Birds with larger heads than necks, such as ducks, etc..,
must be treated in one of three ways. First, after skinning out
the body, and cutting off the neck from the inside, cut with the
strong scissors a triangular piece away from the base of the
skull, from which extract the brain, and then compress the sides
of the face (mandibles) between your finger and thumb from the
outside, at the same time endeavouring to “slip” the head (now
somewhat elastic by the removal of the base of the skull) through
the neck.

Do this whenever possible; but for those birds whose mandibles
resist any amount of moderate pressure, of which the larger
ducks, woodpeckers, etc.., are examples, the second plan must
be adopted, which is to cut (after the removal of the body) on
the crest of the head of a specimen — if a crested bird
— or along the sides of the face if failing in this
particular; the head may then be carefully skinned, leaving it
attached as much as before directed, brains cleared out, eyes
extracted, etc.., then painted with the preservative, head
nicely stuffed with chopped tow, and returned in the skin, and
finally very neatly sewn up. If this latter operation be well
performed, and especially if the stitches are drawn tight, the
seam ought not to show.

A more tedious method is to extract the brain and eyes through
the roof of the mouth, or from the back of the head (after the
neck has been cut off), but neither of these plans will bear
comparison with “slipping,” or with cutting on the crest, or by
the side of the head, as by these latter methods you do not miss
any flesh by the sides of the face in skinning out.

Let me give an instance. In the eider duck, the flesh of the
face is protracted along the sides of the bill; if, therefore,
you fail to open on the crown, or by the side of the face, you
must of necessity miss these, or have ten times more trouble in
feeling your way to it. If the processes by the side of the face
are entirely missed, the consequences are an unsightly and
inartistic shrivelling; it is as well, therefore, to make a note
of all birds having such a peculiarity.

Amongst the birds which may be instanced as having heads too
large to pass the neck in the usual manner, we may place the
whole of the ducks, geese, and swans, though the heads of the
herons and divers, which appear to be as large and yet have as
small necks as the former birds, pass easily. Again, the head of
the great or crested grebe passes, while that of the little grebe
sticks. Of the three woodpeckers found in Britain, the heads of
the great-spotted and lesser-spotted will not pass the neck, but
the head of the other, the green woodpecker, the largest looking
of the three, will pass if care be taken. These things being
noted and borne in mind will save the tyro a considerable amount
of trouble.

In concluding this chapter, let it be noted as an unalterable
doctrine, that no white-breasted birds, sea birds especially,
are, under any pretence whatever, to be cut on their breasts. How
many birds pass through the hands of the professional, spoiled by
a neglect or ignorance of this rule, it would be impossible to
say, nor are amateurs the only offenders in this particular.
Grebes, etc.., which have wings hardly sufficient to hide the
cut beneath, can be cut on the back, between the wings, and
skinned out that way; and if the breast is, as it should be,
fronted for the “showpiece,” the effect, if skilfully done, is
very fine.

I have lately given a great deal of attention to this method
of skinning from the back, having found it necessary in mounting
young birds which otherwise showed an unsightly cut on their
naked breasts. I found that the modelling was much truer and more
effective by this method, and therefore extended it to mature
specimens with the result that I now think no birds, excepting
the very largest, perhaps, should ever be opened on the breast. I
am quite convinced that if a person of any experience makes up
his mind never to skin a bird by any other way than by the side
or back, he will have no reason to ever regret his decision.
Should a bird be required for flight, undoubtedly the proper
place to cut it is under the side; the suspending wire then comes
along the off side and is hidden by the wing. If the wings are to
be raised and the breast or side shown, cut it on the back; if
closed wings, the same; in either case the cut is perfectly
hidden, and is where it should be, out of the way of grease.

Perhaps it may be as well to state here that — contrary
to my usual custom of working from the lowest to the highest
animal form — I have written upon birds out of their proper
natural order; the reason being that birds are always selected
because of easiness of treatment for the student’s first lessons
in taxidermy, before his teacher allows him to “try his ‘prentice
hand” on the more difficult branches of the art.

CHAPTER VI.
SKINNING AND PRESERVING MAMMALS.

Plate III Skeleton of
Otter

Explanation:

A, skull;

B, lower maxillary (or jaw) at point of articulation with
upper;

C, cervical vertebrae (7); D, dorsal Vertebrae;

E, lumbar vertebrae; F, sacral vertebrae ;

G, caudal vertebrae ;

H pelvic girdle, or “ossa innominata” (ilium, ischium, and
pubes anchylosed);

I, femur; i, patella, or “knee pan”;

J, tibia ; K, fibula;

L, tarsal, and meta-tarsal bones, and phalanges of digits, of
pes or hind foot ;

M, scapula; N, humerus ; O, radius ; P, ulna ;

Q, carpal and meta-carpal bones, and phalanges, of digits, of
manes or fore-foot;

R, dorsal and sternal ribs.

=========================

THE art of setting up quadrupeds in a natural and life-like
manner is of so recent a date that few, if any, of the manuals on
taxidermy do more than glance at it. True, they nearly all give
directions, in an off-hand way, as to the skinning of mammals;
but their instructions are so vague and meagre that, though
confessing that the subject is no easy one to write upon, I yet
feel that we may, perhaps, improve, in point of detail, on what
has gone before.

In accordance with my usual custom, I have procured an animal
— a fox — to illustrate my instructions, and, the
learner having got out the whole of the knives (previously
figured) and the whetstone, may proceed to work in the following
manner:

Measure the fox, as a preliminary, taking note of his length,
breadth, and fineness of limb; length and thickness of muzzle and
side of face; and, having aided the recollection by the use of
the callipers, and made all necessary notes, lay him on the
skinning table, back downwards, and, separating the fur on the
stomach at about two inches from the root of the tail, gently
insert the point of the skinning knife (keeping the handle well
down) under the skin, and continue the cut to within about ten
inches of the chest, between the fore limbs–that is to say, up
to the first rib, which may be felt with the finger and thumb. If
an ordinary-sized fox, this will allow the cut to be of about the
same length, viz., ten inches. Be very careful, in making this
incision, to cut the top skin only, and not that which retains
the bowels.

Having done this, commence to clear away the skin from the
flesh on one side by using the point of the knife in a slanting
manner between skin and flesh. The fox being with its head from
you and directly to your front, the side which you naturally
begin on first would be the one on your left; turn the fox now so
that its head comes to your left hand instead of directly to your
front, and skin in the same manner on the other side, which is
now from you. The skin of a fox being very thin about this part,
as indeed, nearly all over its body, you must be careful while
making your cuts to release the skin, not to push the point of
your knife through. As you get along the side of the fox, use
your knife, point downward, cutting edge toward you, on the inner
side, and from you on the outer, with a scraping motion to
separate the skin from the body at the sides.

No doubt, by this time you will be somewhat troubled with a
discharge of blood; if so, use sawdust or silver sand, either of
which will not dirty the skin, but yet affords a good grip.
(Plaster is very commonly used instead of either, but, though a
capital absorbent of blood and grease, I object to it, except in
the instances of white or very light coloured furs.) Silver sand
is, I think, the best of all, as sawdust is apt to get into some
furs, and it requires a great deal of pains to get it out
again.

By a little management of the point of the knife, and by
undercutting slightly, you expose the thighs of the hind limbs.
The fox lies still in front of you with its head to your left.
Changing your position, go to the tail, and, seizing the foot
nearest to you with your right hand, and the skin with your left,
push and pull at one and the same time until you expose the
knee-joint, or rather — to speak more correctly — the
articulation of the “femur” or thigh bone (i, Plate III.) with
the two smaller bones (“fibula” and “tibia”) which form the shank
(K and J).

Let go with your right hand, and by an arrangement of the
fingers of the left — difficult to describe — retain
your hold of both the skin and flesh of the leg, and re-commence
skinning with the knife on each side of the leg until you arrive
at the hollow which lies behind, just above the shank; this
exposes daylight between skin and flesh, and thus you may get
your fingers between the two skins, and, finding the
articulation, or joint of the thigh (just mentioned), you push
the point of your knife in, and sever the ligaments, and then
return the loose shank to its skin.

Holding the fingers of your left hand underneath the skin
— thumb and bottom of the palm of the hand opposing —
skin out the rest of the thigh, which brings you just on top of
the root of the tail. Turn the fox in an exactly opposite
direction, and repeat the process; you will before doing this
find yourself, perhaps, restrained by the skin of the ventral
orifice, which carefully cut out; this frees the limb
considerably. (I may mention that the animal skinner must not be
afraid of handling his subject; it is not so pleasant nor so
delicate an operation as skinning a bird, and, consequently, does
not require so fine a touch.)

You will now have exposed the tail at its back and front. Now
double up the fox, supporting it with your left hand, and get the
whole of the tail free at the root. Letting it rest on the table
again, you skin as far up the tail as you can go. The two thighs
and part of the back are entirely freed from the skin, but the
tail still holds at about three inches up.

Now get a pair of common pincers, such as are used for pulling
nails out, and place them so that the tail comes between their
hollows; push this against the part still unskinned; hold this
firmly down on the table with the left hand, and pull from the
root of the tail with the right. Very often the tail will not
move past this point; in that case there is nothing left but to
cut it off at the root, and place the latter firmly in a vice
(after the animal is skinned out), and taking both hands to the
skin, cross the thumbs and two first fingers, so as to obtain a
good grip and yet prevent the skin of the tail from turning
inside out, and pull with all your might (jerking it at the same
time) until it slides.

Now free the skin from the back, working round to the front.
During this operation the fox must be frequently turned to get
round the sides and back. The knife being held short in the hand
and guided near the tip by the fore-finger considerably
facilitates this. Endeavour as much as possible to keep all the
flesh and fat (if any) on the body, and not on the skin.

Coming up now to the fore limbs you will find the skin hold
considerably between them at the chest. This is the place where
an amateur generally runs his knife through, which, I need hardly
say, is one of the worst places in which this accident could
happen. Having released the chest, skin all away from the back
and shoulder; the fore-arm now appears, showing the articulation
of the humerus with the radius and ulna. Skin all round it until
you come to the return of the fore-arm in precisely the same
manner as you have done with the hind limbs. This point is not so
easy to find as is that of the hind legs, but if you will twist
the leg you will at once see the point of junction, where slip
the knife in and cut off as before. Turn the fox, and treat the
other leg in the same manner.

Arrived at the neck, skin all round until you arrive at the
base of the skull; you will then become aware of two
cartilaginous bodies standing up one on each side — these
are the ears. Having skinned a little on top of these, with your
finger and thumb raise them slightly and cut them away from their
attachment at their bases.

Having freed both ears carefully, skin on the top of the head
and the side of the face, until, at about two and a half inches
from the ear, and in a line with it, you find the eye, which
holds by a thin membrane at this point; carefully skin on the top
until the eyeball shows through, and very carefully free it from
its attachment all round, except at its lower angle, i.e.,
that nearest the nose; do the same with the other. Now skin a
little more by the side of the jaw until you find it firmly held
by a return angle of skin; there leave it attached. Turning the
under jaw exactly uppermost, skin along the bone toward the lip
as far as you can get, not, however, entirely relieving it from
the jawbone at the side, but only until a thin blue membrane
appears, which take care not to cut through; this is inside of
the skin which comes between the lower lip and the teeth.

The fox’s skin is now held to the body at five points, viz.,
the lower corners of each eye, two; at each return of the jaw
just underneath, two more; and at the point of the junction of
the two lower jawbones close to the under lip. Procure a saw and
saw the head off, so as to expose the brain. On reaching the
flesh under the jaw, slip the knife up between on each side of
the jaw, which will have the effect of pulling out the tongue
attached to the body; preserve the tongue for further operations.
With a small chopper, or a mallet and chisel, cut away part of
the bone by the palate, between which and the skull bones the
brains are included. This considerably assists the removal of the
brain.

A large quantity of flesh still remains at the top of the
head, which must be cleanly removed, and the eyeballs taken out.
You will then find just underneath the eye a bony ridge, running
backward to the base of the skull. Surrounding this is a pad of
flesh, which hides the attachment of the lower jaw with the
upper. By digging underneath with the point of the knife you
remove all this flesh, taking care, however, not to cut the
attachments of the skin close by, which you previously left, nor
the ligaments which hold the upper to the lower jaw. Both sides
being served in the same manner, the skull presents a tolerably
clean appearance.

The ears are now nearest to the operator. (You will recollect
they have been cut off inside). All you can see of them, however,
are two shapeless masses of gristle surrounding a small hole. On
the sides of each — farthest from the head — you must
begin cautiously skinning, and by pushing your left hand through
the aperture of the skin of the body, assist this with your
finger and thumb, pushed into the ear from the outside, until by
skilfully working with the knife and left-hand fingers you turn
the inside skin of each ear to its very edge and tip, until, in
fact, each stands up inside the skin, completely reversed.

The next thing which engages your attention is the near fore
leg, which you skin as far as you can go, in this instance to the
next joint, the one above the carpus or wrist joint.
Repeat this with all the limbs, in each case removing all the
flesh from the two bones (the radius and ulna of the fore limbs
and the tibia and fibula of the hind), which together form those
parts of the bones you leave in. If not done previously, now is
the time to remove the tail bone. Finally, rub every part of the
skin on its inside, as also all the bones left in, with the
preservative recommended for mammals (No. 9), not forgetting to
push some up the hollow of the brush where the tail bone has
been.

Turn your fox’s skin completely inside out, skull, leg bones
and all, until it comes to its normal position. Commence now from
the pad of each foot, and make an incision from near the toes to
the point where you left off. Skin round carefully and as much
underneath as possible, so as to expose all the flesh and sinews,
which clear from off the bone. Be sure to push your knife well
round on the top of the bones, which you may do by feeling with
the knife and keeping the pad uppermost. This is for the purpose
of freeing the attachment of skin around, to prevent ultimate
shrivelling.

You may get nearly to the points of the toes in this manner,
the only places it should hold to the bone being the top of the
last joint and at the tips of the toes; the actual pad, which you
will find loaded with a thick fat, must be trimmed as well as
possible.

Whilst doing all this take notice of the points of attachment
and shapes of sinews, etc.., which you remove, especially those
of the hind legs.

It will be recollected that although we have returned the
head, nothing has been done to the upper lip or nose from the
outside. Accordingly the knife must be slipped the whole way
round, beginning at the nose and keeping as close to the teeth as
possible, in fact, on the very edges of the gums. This is
important. Skin away now from the bone of the upper jaw on each
side; having bared this, come back to the nose, the cartilage of
which skin until you arrive at the extreme tip; in point of fact,
skin it entirely out, which is best done by cutting a portion off
inside, and then carefully skinning the little bit which is left
until the extreme tip of the nostrils is arrived at. This
requires great care, as the black skin on the top of the nose is
extremely thin. This is the very worst place in which a cut could
be made; and, although the cutting out of the nose could be done
in five minutes, the tyro will do well if he completes it in half
an hour.

This being satisfactorily ended, free the flesh from the bone,
except at the attachment previously left at the corner of the
eye. There is now a smooth and shiny skin between the upper lip
and the cut you made to free it from the gums; this is the inner
skin of the lips; the knife must, therefore, be slipped between
this skin and the outer skin, and it must then be carefully
separated the whole of the way round, to the extreme edge of the
upper lip; this requires nice manipulation and great care. This
inner skin now hangs down from the inner lip, and forms a bag,
the uses of which will be seen hereafter.

There still remains the inside of the bone of the nose to be
cleaned out with a pointed knife. The lower lip is now attached
only at the extreme tip; this must be cut away from the gum at
that place and the knife pushed underneath, by the side of the
canine teeth, to still further free the skin.

The skin is now ready for stuffing, when you have thoroughly
rubbed the preservative into the cut of the pads, and around the
eyelids, outside the ears, mouth, nose, and vent, or any damaged
parts. If the skin is allowed to remain for a night as it is, it
will be all the better, as it allows time for the preservative to
penetrate. Throw the tongue into a pickle of tannin and carbolic
acid (see chapter IV, No. 15), and there leave it until
wanted.

It will no doubt have been observed that I have used several
tools not previously mentioned as necessaries; my reason is that
I assume no one who aspires to become an amateur workman fails to
provide himself with such everyday implements as saw, chisel,
chopper, hammer, pincers, rule, etc.., the only tool not in
ordinary use being the “callipers,” which are made of various
patterns, and are used to take measurements of breadths and
depths in situations where the foot rule is useless, such as
spherical and cylindrical bodies. The price of a pair of
callipers need not exceed 1s.

When the skin is sufficiently penetrated with the
preservative, lay it on its back ready for stuffing. First take
hold of the bone of the nose and push the skull into the skin, so
that it comes through the orifice of the skin of the body. The
back of the skull being now toward you, proceed to push tow into
the cavity whence the brains were removed, also in the cavity of
each orbit, between the articulations of the jaws at the sides of
the face, and the lower jaw — in fact, everywhere where the
flesh has been removed, forming it as well as you possibly can to
the shape which existed previously.

When you have modelled this as well as the nature of the tow
will allow, return the head through the skin to its first
position. Next cut four strong wires of suitable size, one a
little stronger than the others and somewhat longer than the
whole of your skin, including brush. Point this wire at one end
and make two loops in it (each similar to that in Fig. 1); one
loop to occur about 4 in. from the tail, and the other up in the
chest, near the junction of the fore limbs. Spread a sufficient
quantity of tow inside the skin to run all the way along the back
and up the neck to join the head. Enter the point of the wire
through the orifice of the skin, push it up the lower jaw into
the hollow part of the skull, and holding the head in the left
hand, calculate so that the wire may come through the skin at
about the centre of the head, about 1.5 in. from, and above each
eye.

Bear in mind that the skull being somewhat thick, it is the
more necessary for your wire to have cutting edges, as before
explained. Having pushed the wire through three or four inches,
cut off the point with your large pliers (Fig. 16) to prevent
injuring yourself, turning down the remainder to prevent the wire
pulling through again. Push the other end of the wire right up
the brush, to do which you must bend it back on itself about
halfway up, straightening up as you proceed.

Next take four wires, somewhat longer than the legs, and
pointed at each end. Push one of these right up the foot in at
the pad, along the back of the leg, and up into the body, pushing
it through its proper loop on the body wire, and twisting it
round and round the same with your pliers until it is firmly
attached. Fill the cut pad with chopped tow, and nicely sew it up
to its normal shape. Do the same with the three remaining limbs.
You should be able now to lift the fox by any one of the leg
wires, and find it support the remainder.

Having by this time determined the shape which the fox shall
assume — that is to say, if standing, running, or springing
on its prey — commence by gradually filling up the neck
with suitable pieces of tow, bending the head and neck as you
wish; in point of fact, shaping as you go on. Next work down the
chest, and then fill up the skin of the limbs with smaller pieces
of tow, endeavouring to keep to the characteristic shapes of the
thin and thick parts (various stuffing irons of different degrees
of thickness will have to be used during the process). Having
filled up the fore limbs, bend them to their required position
and go to the hind, disregarding the body for the present.

The hind limbs have more character in them than the fore, and
are, in consequence, harder to model; be the more careful,
therefore, to pay particular attention to the proper development
of these limbs, bending them into shape during work, and keeping
the thighs nice and thin, and distinct from the body. All the
limbs being shaped, model up the various parts of the body, not
getting it like a sack, as is too frequently the case, but
producing those fine flowing lines which are so necessary to
ensure the perfect model of a zoological specimen. Lift your work
up from time to time, noting where inequalities appear.

The fox being now fairly well shaped, sew it up with a
three-cornered skin (or glover’s) needle and string. A board is
now to be procured, of the necessary length and thickness, in
which holes are to be bored to receive the leg wires, which are
then clenched underneath. This operation, no doubt, will knock
the specimen somewhat out of shape, which, of course, is easily
remedied, and having brought up the limbs to their proper
position, you will now address yourself to the formation of the
head and face.

This latter will possess but little expression, owing to the
nose, etc.., being cut out. To remedy this procure a cork,
which push into the cavity whence the cartilage of the nose has
been removed, roughly shaping it, and covering it over with a pad
of putty, pushing some also into the skin of the nostrils at the
same time. The inner skin of the lips is still hanging down as a
bag. Fill this up with sufficient putty to allow for shrinking,
sewing it to the outer skin.

The lips may now be adjusted in position by sewing the upper
to the under, if the fox is to be shown with a closed mouth, or
by driving in “needle points” in various positions, if the mouth
is to be open, until these parts set. Fill in the orbits with
putty, attending to the eyebrows, reproducing the various muscles
underneath, and insert the artificial eyes. All that now remains
to be done is to push two pointed wires down the back of the
ears, and run them along each edge, finally pushing them in the
skin of the head, where required; the two loose ends being
twisted together at the top keep the ears in position.

The tongue, if intended to be shown, must be removed from the
pickle, cut on its under side, and skinned completely out to the
tips and to each edge. All the included flesh must then be cut
away, and replaced with putty, the cut sewn up, and it is then
ready to be inserted in the mouth in the required position, when
modelled into shape.

The animal being stuffed and mounted to your satisfaction, you
must bear in mind, that although you have perfectly cured the
skin — turning it, in fact, into a species of leather
— you have not rendered it proof against the attacks of
insects; it must, therefore, be washed over with one of the
preparations given in Chapter IV.

The preceding method of skinning and stuffing an animal is
given, not because it is the most scientific, but because it is
the most satisfactory to the learner, and is, indeed, the method
which obtains with the majority of taxidermists. Though perfectly
efficient as far as it goes, it yet possesses the disadvantage of
allowing a certain percentage of shrinkage, and that caused
solely by the yielding nature of the tow used to fill out the
places where the muscles formerly rested. To an educated eye this
defect is at once recognised by the uneven contour of the cheeks,
superciliary muscles, and various parts of the limbs, and also by
the generally “wooden” appearance of the specimen.

The system on which I will now give a lesson is far more
tedious in its application, but certain in its effects, being, in
fact, substituting hard for loose stuffing, and differing from
the foregoing in one essential particular, viz., the modelling of
the head and limbs with a medium of an unyielding nature. To
illustrate this, we will take another fox or similar animal.
After skinning it, as in the foregoing lesson, you will, instead
of leaving the leg bones in the skin, cut them completely out
down to the claws, which may best be done by skinning down as far
as you can, cutting the bones off at the last joint, then making
an incision above the pads, and slipping the bones completely
out; this allows you to work right down to the last joint of the
phalanges or toes, at which point you cut the bones free.

The head is now to be considered. When it has been cut off as
before, skin down to the eyelids, and instead of leaving them
attached at the lower angles, cut them completely away. Now take
the skin off all round the skull, until the return of the skin of
the side of the mouth is arrived at. Skin well under the jaw to
the very tip, and now begin under-cutting at the sides, coming up
to the return angle — keeping, however, well to the side of
the skin. By cautious working you can skin in between the inner
and outer skins until you can touch the tips of the lower teeth
at the point of the jaw with your fingers.

Coming along from here by the side of the lower jaw, you skin
by undercutting almost to the inside of the mouth, taking care
not to cut the thin membrane which holds at the extreme edge.
Still working along the lower jaw, come right up until you can
cut out, just under the eye, the top end of the return. Leaving
it attached by a thin membrane ‘to the upper jaw, skin downward
toward the nose, and, by undercutting and using great care,
completely skin up to the nostril, which sever. Do precisely the
same with the other side. The nostrils being completely skinned
out, the skin holds just below them.

Place the head on the table, standing on the base of its
skull, the ears toward you. Take the nostrils with the finger and
thumb of the left hand, and with the knife (the broad knife will
be found most useful here) very carefully work all round until
you arrive at the extreme tip of the inner skin of the upper jaw,
which is now turned inside out, and actually rests below the
under jaw. Your cuts must be made a hair’s breadth at a time to
get to the extreme edge. By this time the severed nostrils will
have fallen some little distance underneath the under jaw. See,
now, that the lips, both upper and lower, as well as the inner
angles of the mouth, are skinned inside to the extreme edge at
every point, or all your labour will be thrown away. This
operation is one of the most nice and difficult in the whole
range of skinning operations, and is equally difficult to
describe. Cut out the cartilage of the nose, slip out the tongue,
and generally trim the head in the usual manner, and well rub in
the preservative. If you should find too much of the inner angle
left far up in the mouth it may be cut off.

If the head were returned now it would be seen that the lower
edges of the inside skin of the mouth were the only points of
attachment, and even there only to the edge of the teeth all
around them.

The skull bone being now only attached to the subject,
literally by the “skin of its teeth,” you have the whole bone
exposed to work on.

Fill up the orbits and hollow bone of the nose with any loose
pieces of peat, to give solidity to the next operation, which is,
to cut pieces of peat in an artistic manner to represent the
flesh of the cheeks, the chin, the top of the head, and the
cartilage of the nose. When the whole of these pieces are shaped
to their required measurements, attach them by string or wire to
their neighbouring bones in the manner which occurs to you as
being the best. Having well secured them, go over the whole with
plaster of Paris, mixed with water to the consistence of a stiff
paste, merely smoothing it as it sets, up to the required shape
with a broad knife. The plaster will soon set, and may be further
rasped or trimmed into shape. Plaster alone may be used, but my
reason for making a substratum of peat is, that if the former
only is used it renders the head unpleasantly heavy.

The great advantage which this system has over the former is
that, by the unyielding nature of the medium, nothing can
possibly shrink or shift, and though this plan is, perhaps, more
tedious, and certainly requires more skill in its execution, yet
it is, as a matter of course, far preferable than trusting to tow
alone for the formation of the head.

Finally, place some putty or clay in the ears, nose, and
around the skin of the lips, and pull the mask over the
model.

Pad the body, and put in the central body wire as before, also
the leg wires, but in this system you add another, but thinner,
wire to come up the back of each of the fore legs and the front
of the hind, not attaching these wires, however, to any point,
but letting them come up into the body, and merely wrapping them
with tow to the large leg wires in the necessary manner. This
second wire partly supplies the place of the small bone and
muscles of each leg, and its natural appearance is considerably
enhanced by the application of putty or clay to pad parts of the
animal’s legs and feet. Being of a yielding nature, until dry,
putty or clay may be squeezed and moulded into proper shape to
give character to the various parts. In the return of the sinews
of the legs, make their peculiar, hollow appearance by stitching
through from side to side. Wrinkles of the neck, etc.., may be
treated in the same manner. Finish as before directed.

No shrinking can possibly take place in the most important
parts; hence the manifest advantages of this system; but as in
practice it requires some knowledge and experience, I have not
ventured to insist upon it previously, as it is too much to
expect a tyro to take it up until he is thoroughly grounded in
the first system. An amateur, however, who can skin and stuff
fairly may try this, and I am positive that he will succeed, and
never again return to the “good old style” of loose stuffing.

In cases where the animal (especially if small) is merely to
be lying down, three wires will sometimes be found sufficient,
namely, one long and strong body wire (with no loops) and two
wires for the legs, one of which will be run in at the right fore
leg and cross the body, and be pushed down the left hind leg and
come out at the sole of the foot, the other wire then crosses it
reversely. The body wire (having no loops) can be pushed in at
the head through a hole previously made with a bradawl. Ears may
be filled in with brown paper, cut to shape, instead of putty.
Pieces of wood, peat, or clips of tin may be cut to the form of
the ears, and used to block them to shape, from the outside.

A third system is for the smaller horned heads, such as deer,
goats, etc.., which are begun somewhat differently, but are
afterwards treated in a similar manner. The usual way in which
horned heads are skinned is to cut them under the throat right up
to the jaw, turning the skin back, and then to skin upward to the
horns. This, though perpetrated by people who ought to know
better, is based on entirely false principles, for a head when
finished being hung usually at some height, you have constantly
before your eyes the hideous spectacle of a chain of stitches
(which no art can successfully hide) running up the throat and
under the chin.

The buck’s or goat’s head, being, perhaps, the most easily
obtained, I will take one as an example. Make an incision exactly
on the top of the head, running from the back of the neck to just
behind the horns; then make two cross cuts up to their seats or
“burrs,” and, pushing your knife down at the side of the nearest
horn, cut the skin entirely away, keeping as close to the horn as
possible — in fact, shaving its edge. When you arrive just
above the eye, while doing this, you will find the ear hold back
the skin considerably. Skin it as much as possible on the top,
and, putting your finger underneath, cut it out as usual. Now you
can work all round the horn to join the cut at the back. Do the
same with the other horn and side, skinning away round the neck
to the under jaw and sides of the face until you find the skin of
each eyelid holds. Skin this completely off, not leaving it
attached anywhere, as also the skin on the forehead where it
holds. Continue and finish in the same manner as the fox’s
head.

The skins of the heads of bulls, large stags, tigers, etc..,
are best taken completely off the bone, and the inside of the
lips, nostrils, eyelids, etc.., afterwards skinned out and well
cured; the skull-bone may then be plunged in a copper full of
water and boiled out; this saves considerable labour, and also
gets the skulls nicely cleaned and free from grease.

The plan of taking the skin entirely off the head will be
found of the utmost advantage to explorers or collectors in
foreign countries, as the skulls may be numbered and a
corresponding number scratched on a tin, or written on a
parchment label, which may be tied through the eyehole of the
skin. The skulls being left loose, their skins may be packed in
barrels, and if well rubbed in with my preservative (No. 9), and
looked at occasionally to prevent mildew, they will, after the
lapse of many years, only need relaxing to make perfect
specimens. The usual way of sending horned heads home from abroad
is to leave the skins attached to the skull, and the consequence
is, that at the various points of attachment the skin is
improperly cured (often with the — worse than —
useless arsenic), and if they escape the inevitable knocking
about they receive in travelling, and get to England in fair
condition, the hair, when the skin is relaxed, sweats off,
particularly at the very places it should not, around the eyes,
lips, nose, and ears, and the labour of, perhaps, years of
anxious collecting and dangerous hunting is nullified.

Fig. 26
—
SKULL OF HORNED HEAD, BLOCKED
READY FOR MOUNTING.

I will now take a bull’s head as our subject, to illustrate
the method of mounting such heads. I will assume that a fair
piece of neck is attached to the head, and having skinned the
head completely off the skull and preserved it, proceed as
follows: When the bone is sufficiently trimmed, should the meat
have been cut off, or dry, if the head has been previously
boiled, tie together the upper and the lower jaws at their points
of articulation behind the eye, by the aid of wire or string; tie
also the tip of the lower jaw to the nose in any manner that
allows the teeth to come in their proper position as in
nature.

Attention to this point will give you a guide as to the length
of the model. The jaws being now rigidly fixed, lay the head down
for a while, and getting a piece of inch deal of suitable length,
saw it to the shape shown in Fig. 26, which also shows the method
of attachment.

Insert the part marked A inside the head up to the return B;
this being inserted exactly in the middle of the skull, bore two
or more holes through the latter at the forehead, and make fast
the bone to the wood by strong screws. Block on each side of this
board and inside the jaws with pieces of peat nailed on with
“French nails” (Points-de-Paris) or pieces of pointed wire. At
the place marked B (A to B being now hidden) make up with wet
plaster of Paris, which, while filling up, serves also to steady
the prop. Fill up the orbits with any pieces of loose peat,
paper, etc.. Now carve a large piece of peat for each side, cut
to the shape of the cheeks, and attach them to the jaw bones in
their proper positions with wires driven right through into the
board, fill also the bone of the nose with peat roughly cut to
shape. Cut another piece of peat for the swelling of the under
jaw, and entirely model up with peat the front and sides of the
neck.

Next mix some plaster of Paris, and go over the whole of the
peat with it, bringing it up level to the bones, nicely smoothing
it over with a knife, and, as it sets, adding more where
required, or shaving it off if in excess — in short,
replacing the flesh, where it has been removed, with peat and
plaster. The front view should now present a somewhat even
appearance; the nice swelling of the cheeks being well rounded
off, as also under the jaws and on the top of the nose,
etc..

Now draw the skin nicely over the model, taking care
especially to get the eye holes in their proper places around the
orbits. This being a guide for the truth of that part of the
head, drive two wires through the skin, into the bone above the
orbits, to keep it in its place. Sew the hair in position round
the horns. Being now qualified to judge as to the size of the
neck-block, you will cut an oval, or rather egg-shaped, piece of
wood, out of inch stuff, to the required size; this determines
the breadth and length of the neck at the back. The head-block of
Fig 26 being cut off along the dotted line D, it of course stands
to reason that if the neck-board (Fig. 27) is screwed on to it
along its centre, the head, if the board is placed against a
wall, will now look downwards at the angle determined by the
cutting of D.

Having firmly screwed the oval neck-block to the prop, or
head-block, in such a manner that the top of the oval does not
come above nor interfere with the modelling of the back of the
head, fill the inside of the ears with putty, and also make up
the back of the head and neck, with peat and plaster of Paris
between the wood and the skull. Having previously cut the board
somewhere near the dotted line E, the throat and neck will now
claim your attention, and will require the nicest skill to show
the various wrinkles, depressions, etc.., where they should
occur. Putty or clay as a finish will be found of great service
at this stage.

Fig. 27 —
Neck-board for skin of head.

Constantly turn the head to the light, to see how you are
going on. If a horned head and heavy, many plans will occur to
you for easily supporting it, such as ropes attached to the
horns, and to a beam, etc.. When all the head and back of the
neck is adjusted to your measurements, bring the skin over and
around the edge of the oval to its back, attaching it firmly
there with strong tacks.

Nothing has as yet been done to the eyes, lips, or nose. Turn,
therefore, the bags of the skin of the eyelids inside out, and,
filling them with putty or clay, shape them and return. Fill up
the orbits also with putty or clay to receive the eyes, packing
up above and below them to show the various depressions and
ridges. Turning the nose up, fill the nostrils and bag of the
lips with putty or clay, being careful to show up all the
wrinkles (the division in the chin, if one exists), and, in fine,
generally modelling and filling out with putty or clay, of which
you will use several pounds if you are working on a large
head.

Sew up the lips, or perhaps a better plan is to enter a skin
needle, charged with strong string, in at the lower lip, and
bring the string around wires driven in at the front and sides of
the nose inside, pulling your string over from side to side, and
making a final stitch in the most convenient situation. Nicely
insert the eyes, bringing the upper lids over, so as not to give
too staring an appearance to the animal, and hang the head up to
dry by firmly attaching a very strong hook of wire to the oval
block, or by a small rope tied round the horns at their base.

Note that the horns of goats, antelopes, etc.., and bulls
and cows are set on a bony core, and must come off to prevent an
offensive effluvium. Placing the skull in a hot bed has been
recommended, boiling will sometimes fetch the horns off, but it
very often happens that nothing but time will loosen them. When
this occurs wash the cores and horns with carbolic wash (No.
15).

The student may, if he likes, fill in the eyelids, bags of the
upper and lower lips, and nostrils with putty or clay before
drawing the skin on the head; but in this case he will have to
sew the inner to the upper skins, in addition to which he will
find many things occur in drawing on and shaping the skin to
render most of his labour useless if these parts are modelled
first instead of last.

The following system, the fourth, differs from all the
preceding in there being erected a sort of framework on which to
mount the skin, and hence is in use only for large animals. As an
illustration let us take the bear (which was the last large
animal I caused to be set up by this method).

Skin as before, subsequently removing the leg bones and head,
and modelling as in the second system, or working by the first
method, according to your degree of proficiency. To do such an
animal as a bear, however, you should remove all the bones of the
legs, and skin to the toes, as directed in the second system,
also removing the skull, and treating it and the skin of the head
as before.

Procure now a piece of deal 2 in. square, and of the length
which you wish your animal to assume when finished, calculating
from the centre of the chest to the tail. In this wood fix a
strong iron rod, or wire, at one end, by boring two holes through
it at some distance apart, and pushing the end of the wire in at
one hole, then beating it down and clenching it through the
other.

The bar of wood now represents the backbone, and the wire the
neck of the animal. Point the wire and push it up into the skull,
which model up as before, binding tow round the wire underneath
to roughly form a neck somewhat smaller than you intend it to be
when finished. Pull the skin over this, and adjust it so that you
may see the places on the wooden backbone where the fore and hind
limbs will come. Having marked the position of these, pull back
the skin up to the neck, and bore holes through the wood, at
right angles to the other holes made for the neck wire.

Taking now four rods or wires for the legs, point each at one
end, and screw the other with “nuts” to fit the screws, bend each
rod for 7 in. or more, at a sharp angle, at its screwed end, and
push the pointed end down the fore legs from the inside, so that
the points come through the ball of each foot, and having stuffed
and bent the fore-legs into shape, push the screwed part into,
and through, the corresponding holes in the artificial backbone;
screwing on the “nuts” on the opposite aides, which will of
course prevent the rods from pulling through again.

Finish the stuffing of the neck and chest, and coming along
the body repeat the same process with the hind limbs as with the
fore. Greater steadiness can be attained if required, by using
two “nuts” instead of one to each rod, that is to say, one on
each side of the wood, No. 1 being screwed on first, the arm of
the rod then pushed through the hole, and “nut” No. 2 screwed up
to its bearing.

For a nearly tail-less animal, such as the bear, it will be
sufficient to drive a strong wire through the stump of the tail
from the outside, to hold in the end of the “backbone,” but a
long-tailed animal will require to have the tail-bearer inserted
in the wood, in the same manner as the neck wire, and the
artificial tail run up the skin before the legs are attached.

The extreme stability of the foregoing system is obvious, as
the “backbone” completely supports the weight of the skin and
head, while the leg rods support this in their turn.

Wood of suitable thickness must be used to mount the animal on
while drying, and the leg rods, if too strong to clench through
on the under side, may be screwed and “nuts” attached.

For the very largest animals, such as the elephant, a somewhat
different system would be adopted; a model in parts would be
made, fitted together, and the skin stretched over. A very
interesting account of the method adopted many years ago in the
French capital is here appended:

“The corpse of the
elephant having been extended upon the ground facilitated our
taking and writing all its dimensions; the thickness was taken by
a sort of rule, which M. Lassaigne, cabinet maker of the museum
of Paris, invented at the time. This instrument is the rule used
by shoemakers on a large scale. The curves of the back, the
belly, etc.., were taken by bars of lead, 0.75 in. thick. This
metal, not having any elasticity, accommodated or bent itself to
the curves we wished to measure and preserved the measurements
until wanted. M. Desmoulins drew the animal on one of the sides
of the wall according to all these measurements, in the workshop
where the model was to be constructed, in its natural size. This
done, we proceeded to the skinning of the elephant, which we were
only able to place upon its back by four corded pulleys fastened
to the platform. In this position we made an incision in the form
of a double cross; the middle line went from the mouth to the
anus, the two others were directed from each left foot to the
opposite right foot; the tail and trunk were opened underneath
longitudinally. We scooped out the soles of the feet within an
inch of their edge, that the nails might remain in the skin; to
effect this we were obliged to employ the chisel and mallet. This
operation was very difficult.

After four days’ labour of several persons we separated the
skin from the body; it then weighed 576 lb. We extended it on the
ground to take away the cutaneous muscles which adhered to its
interior — particularly to the head. In this state the skin
was placed in a large tub; we spread a considerable quantity of
pounded alum in all its folds. We then boiled some water with
such quantities of alum that some pieces still remained at the
bottom of the boiler — that is, more than saturated the
water. This water was poured upon the skin, and we continued to
do so until the skin was covered with it 6 in. deep.

To render the dimensions of the model or shape which was to
receive the skin more exact, we modelled one-half of the skinned
head in plaster, as well as one of the hind and one of the fore
legs.

All these measures being taken, Lassaigne constructed a
factitious body in linden wood. The reader would find the detail
too long and too minute if we were to describe the ingenious
methods invented by Lassaigne, either to cut the wood or to
preserve the form he had given to this great mass. But to avoid
all prolixity, it will be sufficient to observe that he composed
this wooden elephant in such a manner that all the parts could be
separated. He opened a panel (it is immaterial on which side of
the body) and introduced himself into the interior by means of
this opening, either to diminish the thickness of the wood or for
any other purpose during its construction; the head, the trunk,
all was hollow; so that the body, alarming at first from its
supposed weight, might be easily transported from one place to
another.

After taking the alum water from the tub where the skin was
placed, we heated it, and poured it, boiling, on the skin; we
left it an hour and a half in this state, after which we drew the
skin out to place it, quite warm, upon the shape. This was not an
easy thing, but it was rendered still more difficult by our
finding the false body a little too large — the skin would
not entirely cover it. There was but one thing which could be
done; we could not diminish the wood without destroying the
proportions; besides, the iron pins, the screws which fastened
the work, would have lost their hold, and we should have run the
risk of overturning the edifice. We then took down the skin,
placed it on trestles, and diminished the thickness of it by the
help of large knives, cutting it away in thick and long shreds
from the whole of the inside. This work occupied five persons for
four days. We weighed these shreds and they amounted to 194 lb.
During this operation the skin had dried, and consequently lost
its suppleness. We put it back into a tub and covered it with
soft cold water. The next day we placed it afresh on the shape,
and fixed it with wire nails and large brads; those which fixed
the edge of the skin were driven in deeply, the others only half
way, to accommodate the skin to all the sinuosities of the model.
We drew out a great many of them when the skin was sufficiently
dry.

This paring of the skin answered our purpose in two essential
points:

first, by facilitating the means of enveloping the model
entirely, the form of which had not been altered; and, secondly,
by ensuring its speedy desiccation. This last had not been the
least alarming, for we feared that the humidity secreted in the
skin might concentrate in such a manner (notwithstanding we had
taken the precaution to give the wooden model a coat of oil
paint) as to occasion mouldiness in the parts exposed to the air.
The alum with which it was saturated soon crystallised on the
interior, which at first gave it a very ugly grey colour; but we
entirely got rid of it by rubbing the surface of the skin, first
with spirits of turpentine, and then with oil of olives.”

Some little hints which occurred to me as being useful to the
animal mounter I will now jot down: I have been frequently asked,
“Supposing I get a fat dog, or animal of any kind, to set up, how
can I manage such a subject satisfactorily? If I leave the fat on
the skin I am doing wrong in every way, and if I trim it cleanly
off, as it should be done, I stretch the skin to such an extent
that my dog is completely out of shape, and though formerly a
‘pug’ he speedily becomes a ‘greyhound.’ In fact, I am in a
quandary, and do not know what to do.”

My reply is: Try what a hot knife will do passed over the
skin, with sand or sawdust thrown on to absorb the fat as it
melts off. Candidly speaking, however, it is purely a matter of
experience to trim fat off a skin without stretching it to any
alarming degree, and in very fine-skinned animals, if we find
them stretch in spite of all care, we take advantage of wrinkles
to sew up here and tuck in there, resorting even, in extreme
cases, to cutting away portions of the skin, notably in those
parts underneath, hidden by the subsequent operation of
mounting.

The skin of the soles of the feet of some animals requires
paring down. The bear is an instance of this. The hands of
monkeys also must be carefully skinned out to the extreme tips of
the fingers. These latter animals are best skinned out from the
back, as a great many of our “relatives” have but little hair on
the abdomen to hide the stitches, added to which their usually
upright position tends still more to show up any defect in
sewing.

Peat and straw may sometimes be used with advantage in the
bodies of large animals.

Moles may be very well mounted by being cut across from one
hind limb to the other, just under the tail, skinned out,
preserved, and the skin then filled with sand or dry plaster.

Hedgehogs, if required to be curled up, may be also filled
with sand, then tied up in a cloth, and hung up to dry.

Bats are skinned out from the back or front according to the
position it is required to show them in. A thin piece of wire is
doubled; each end is then pulled out at right angles for a
certain distance up its length, and pushed into the hollows of
the bones of the “wings.” The animal is then stuffed with chopped
tow, sand, or sawdust, sewn up, leaving the doubled wire outside;
a hole is then made in a board (of the length and breadth suited
to the specimen), through which the wire passes, and the “wings”
are kept in place, until dry, by fine needle-points, or
entomological pins passed through the joints, or by braces of
cardboard. The ears, if long, are best blocked with cork cut to
fit the inside, and then bound round with “wrapping cotton.” The
shrivelled ears of these and much larger animals may be got into
proper shape by careful ironing.

Mice, small leverets, or rabbits, will be found very useful,
if roughly stuffed, to place in the mouth or under the feet of
birds or small beasts of prey. These animals, if very young, had
better be placed for an hour or so in benzoline or in one of the
hardening solutions (Nos. 15 or 16). This remark applies with
especial force to animals as yet unborn, which the naturalist
will sometimes find during work, and will wish to preserve. These
foetal specimens, however, let it be remembered, are of the
greatest consequence in the study of embryology, and should
always be preserved intact in a fluid medium of some kind.
Sometimes the operator comes across a foetus of some rarity,
which, if not large, can be preserved in a small “preparation”
jar, filled with best rectified spirits of wine, as being not too
expensive for such subjects.

CHAPTER VII.
MODELLING OF ANIMALS BY SUBSTITUTION OF CLAY, COMPOSITION,
PLASTER CASTS, OR WAX FOR LOOSE STUFFING.

THE subject to be now treated
of is of so varied a nature, requiring so great a knowledge of
anatomy, and so much experience and aptitude, that I have deemed
it advisable to reserve for a separate chapter the explanations
of the processes to be learned, to avoid, at the outset,
confusing the learner by asking him to attempt too much. This
chapter may therefore be considered a finishing one, and,
perhaps, it will be best to be candid, and say at once, that no
one should attempt the mounting of animals by this method until
he has fully mastered the principles laid down in the foregoing
chapter, and has learned the characteristic attitudes and
expression of some hundreds of animal forms.

It is quite true that this art — which has for its end
and aim the better delineation of character as exhibited by the
lower animals — is not teachable unless the pupil is well
grounded in anatomy, and is also a clever draughtsman and
modeller — in fine, an artist! — with all an artist’s
perception of beauty of line and of form. I will here indicate
what I take to be the basis upon which a competent taxidermist
must proceed to become a zoological artist. First, then, let him
take lessons in drawing, pinning himself steadily to copying
pictures by the best masters of zoological subjects; as he
advances, let him draw from the casts of animals, when
procurable.

Let him beware, however, of the conventional lion, and lion’s
head, which are about as much like the real things as the donkey
is like the horse — just a family resemblance, nothing
more. Having done all this, let him copy animals from nature; and
if he lives in or near London, so much the better, there is the
“Zoo” for him to study in. Indeed, it is a marvel to me that,
with the museums and the Zoological Gardens surrounding them, so
few London taxidermists attain even a respectable proficiency in
the correct delineation of animal forms. The pupil being well
grounded in drawing, will have observed many points in animal
anatomy not hitherto suspected by him, and will naturally wish to
know the why and wherefore of the swellings and depressions
occurring in his subjects. To this end he must study a little
simple anatomy of bones and muscles — their objects and
meanings in different animals.

The last stage is the reproduction, by modelling in clay,
etc.., of the various parts of animals, the head, of course, in
the instance of large mammals, being looked upon as the chief
motif in composition. To do all this requires time and
considerable perseverance, but, with the facilities for study now
offered by the various schools of art, he should not despair of
success in a few years’ time after mastering the first principles
of his art.

I will now proceed to demonstrate how the learner may work
himself up to a respectable proficiency in modelling animals,
should he possess the necessary aptitude.

Let us divide our theme into three parts — First,
mounting the skin of the specimen, by using the skeleton as a
foundation.

Secondly, mounting by means of a rough framework of wood and
iron, more completely than as instanced in the example of the
bear mentioned in the last chapter.

Thirdly, mounting on a model skeleton of carved wood and iron,
to represent, and to take the place of, the bones; somewhat in
the manner described for the elephant.

In each of these systems there is one point of resemblance,
namely, that the bones, or their semblances, are to be covered
with hard composition, of some kind or another, to replace the
flesh and muscles, and that the heads of mammals being often of
great beauty, and possessing certain characters of their own, are
to be copied first of all by one of two methods. Either they must
be

(1) cast as a “mould” from the dead head, and the “return,” or
model, again cast from that; or

(2) modelled from the dead head in clay, by the eye and by
measurements, and a mould taken from that, to be again cast into
for the model.

This latter, though entailing three processes, is the more
correct, and gives the best result when the modeller is
experienced; but as the former is the easier, and leads up to
better things, I must describe it first.

We will take as an example the most difficult head to cast
— a horned head — considering that, if we do this
correctly, all others will be easy enough. Here, then, is a
stag’s head, some modelling or pipe-clay, some soft-soap, a
hundredweight or so of common plaster of Paris at about 4s. per
cwt., two pails, or rather zinc or galvanised iron buckets, one
of them containing water. [Footnote: Pipe-clay quite good
enough for this purpose is sold by the pipe makers in dry blocks
or pieces, at about 6s. or 7s. per cwt. The clay must be soaked
as wanted in a bucket of water and beaten up with a stick or
“bat” until it is smooth, free from lumps, and of the consistence
of very stiff putty. It should then be formed into a square mass,
and kept damp by wet cloths.]

The first operation, after beating up the clay, is getting the
head into position; this will be easy enough should it be cut off
from the body, otherwise the head must be propped up on the
table, whilst the greater part of the body rests on boxes, or
trestles, somewhat lower than the table. A very little “gumption”
will enable the learner to cope with these small difficulties,
always remembering, however, that both body and head must be
immovably fixed during the process of casting.

Let us assume, therefore, the body arranged so that the head
— face uppermost — and part of the neck, rests on the
table, firmly fixed; supports, or stays of wood, fastened at one
end to the horns by wires or cords, and at the other end by nails
to the table, will effect this. The chin should be propped up a
little from the surface of the table, by means of a pad of clay
which has been previously prepared; next cut more slices of clay
from the mass, and build in the front and sides of the face in a
straight line, to just under the nostrils, but above the line of
the mouth; smooth the clay — which should extend outwards
some two or three inches from the head — with water and a
broad knife. The lower half of the head is now hidden, mouth and
all, up to just above the upper lip.

Next fill in the nostrils and the lachrymal sinuses (the
orifices below the eyes) with clay, but in a careful manner, so
that, although they shall be filled up sufficiently to prevent
the plaster from running in to make “undercuts,” they shall still
preserve a certain shallow imprint of their original form. Now
mix your soft soap with a brush until it becomes a stiff lather,
and paint it all over the face and hair of the head; build up a
wall of thin board around the clay — in the manner
described in Chapter VIII. on Fish Casting — and when
practicable tie a thin board just in front of the horns, so that
the model may end there.

If, however, the back of the head down to the neck is required
— which it seldom is, for reasons explained hereafter
— it must be managed by “piece-casting.” (See Chapter XII.)
The head being nicely soaped, lay a thin piece of string or
strong hemp along the top of the face and head, exactly in the
centre, and extending from the clay under the nostrils up to the
back of the head in a straight line. Be sure that the string is
perfectly straight, and that it presses closely to the nose
before coming on to the clay.

Next mix the plaster, not in the usual manner, by adding water
to it, but by half filling a vessel with water, to which the
plaster is added, a little at a time, until enough is mixed to
serve the purpose, i.e., in sufficient quantity to cover
the head with a layer some inches thick. After it is well worked
up and moderately thick, carefully pour it over the specimen,
taking it up as it runs down, and piling it up a little thicker
in the centre, to give stability to the mass. Just as the plaster
is setting — which a very little experience will teach
— lift the ends of the string upward through the plaster,
which has the effect of cutting it in two, but these halves will
not fall off of their own accord if care be taken.

The mould being allowed to set for about half an hour or an
hour, according to the quality of the plaster, is then ready for
the next operation, which is the turning of the carcase, so that
the head may also be turned upside down. Previously to this,
should the mould show the least sign of coming off, it will be as
well to tie it on.

Supposing, however, that the wall of boards being removed, the
head is successfully turned until it rests with its centre on the
table, it may happen that the horns, being in the way, may
require to hang over the edge of the table to effect this
properly, and that the head, being rounded by the superior
thickness of the mould, may require propping. To describe the
means for overcoming such self-evident little difficulties as
these, would only insult my reader’s judgment.

The head, then, being now securely fixed face downwards, the
clay which hides the lower half must be picked off. This exposes
the inner edge of the mould, together with the lower jaw. Scrape
the plaster to a level surface, and cut two moderately large
V-shaped nicks, one on each edge of the mould, build up around as
before with wood, and fill in all interstices leading to the
table below with clay. See that the mouth is properly shut,
introducing a little clay if needed. Brush over with soft soap,
not forgetting the top of the plaster mould, and mix some more
plaster and pour over the lower jaw, on to the edges of the
plaster mould, until stopped by the wall; build up thicker in the
centre, as before, and suffer all to dry for about an hour. After
this, pull away the walls, and all retaining clay, and the mould
will easily come away from the head in three pieces, i.e.,
two for the upper surface, and one for the under.

The chief thing to guard against is not to get the plaster
behind the horns, so that it locks the front up. As, however, you
may require to cast more, in length, of the under surface than of
the upper, you may easily do this by lengthening the upper
surface, when turned over, with clay, and casting on to that. It
is this system which gives the diagonally-cut appearance to the
model (see Fig. 28).

You have now three pieces, forming, when trimmed and put
together, a concavity representing the place whence the stag’s
head has been extracted; bake these pieces in an oven for a day
or so until sufficiently dried, then examine them for flaws or
air-bubble holes, which fill up with clay, brush over inside with
linseed oil or soft soap, tie together, and fix the mould, nose
downward, in a bucket or pail, pack with wedges, and run in sand
outside the mould to make all secure.

Prepare some plaster and pour into the mould at the opening
and before it is quite set, scoop out some to make it hollow at
the neck; allow it to remain undisturbed for from two to four
hours,* then take it out, undo the string, and gently tap the
mould in every part with a small mallet, rolling it every now and
then upon the table; in a short time you will hear something
rattle, and perhaps a little loosening of one edge or piece will
take place; tap now very cautiously, lest you should break
anything; soon one piece will come off, which will materially
assist your labour; take time and have patience, and you will be
rewarded by seeing a perfect model of the stag’s head come out of
the mould in due course. [Footnote: Baking, when
practicable, will often assist the parting of the mould from the
model.]

I have said perfect, but I mean perfect so far as this system
allows of perfection. If you hold the model up to the light, or
look down upon it from above, you will see, if your eye is
sufficiently educated, that, although it correctly represents the
hair even, and all prominent features, yet that the weight of
the plaster has perhaps caused one eye to drop lower than the
other, or twisted the mouth aside, and given a different
expression altogether to that needed.

What is to be done then? Nothing but altering the model, by
cutting and scraping it, until both sides are even, casting again
from the corrected model when necessary, that is to say, when it
is desired to get or to keep a very good one for reference.
Remember that the model is a little larger than you require it,
so that the hair marks, etc.., must be trimmed away to lessen
it. Shaving the hair all away from the head, leaving only the
naked skin, has been recommended as a preliminary to casting; but
this, of course, destroys one specimen entirely, that others of
the same size may be mounted from the model made from the shaved
head. Skinning the head first, and casting from the flesh, does
not help the amateur, as so many muscles and other characteristic
parts are cut away, that a model taken in this manner is often
worse than useless.

What, then, is our way out of this difficulty? Nothing but
educating the hand and eye to the point of being able to take a
dead head, and, by knowledge of its living anatomy, to model it
in clay so truthfully as to far surpass any other process
whatever. I can, unfortunately, give no directions for doing
this. I can merely say, in the words of many unpractical “guide
books” to art: “Take a board, some tools, a well-kneaded lump of
clay; place the head before you in strong light, and turn out a
lifelike representation of it; wrinkles, muscles, and all —
in clay.” To me, this is now far the easiest thing to do, but I
do not forget the time when I used perhaps a ton of plaster in
experiments, and wasted lots more, and learned many little arts
before I could model correctly.

Let this be a grain of comfort to the learner, that, although
he must waste a deal of good plaster ere he sees the “points,”
and before he can model straight away, yet that he has an
advantage which I, as a self-taught man, did not possess —
the advantage of some little practical advice, such as is given
in the pages of this work.

Now, “returning to our muttons,” it must not be supposed that
our omega is gained when the tyro has modelled by eye, and by
measurements, his first head in clay; this has to be cast from,
as if from the dead head, and the resultant model touched up,
where incorrect, by cutting and scraping when too large, or by
addition of clay when too small. Sometimes it will be necessary
to cast from this again and again, but in all cases the mould and
model should be managed as before described.

Fig. 28 —
Stag’s head in plaster from clay model.

Assuming that the student has managed a cast to his
satisfaction, he will see, by looking at the accompanying cut,
Fig. 28, that the orbits of the eyes are shallow, that only the
upper line of the sinus shows, that the lips and nostrils are
also shallow depressions; all of these parts must be hollowed out
or undercut. To do this we require a knife such as that figured
No. 12 in Chapter III., and three other tools, one a large
crooked awl (sharpened at one edge), in handle, and steel
“undercutting” and “relieving tools” (see Figs. 29 and 30).
[Footnote: Messrs. Lechertier, Barbs, et Cie., of 60,
Regent-street, London, have many patterns of these for plaster
work, at a low figure.]

Fig. 29 —
Steel “undercutting” tool.

Fig. 30 —
Steel “relieving” tool.

With these the eyes, nostrils, lips, etc.., of the model,
are relieved and undercut, in order to take in the folds of the
inner surfaces of the skin of those parts. Be sure to hollow out
the mouth upward toward the nostrils, keeping it fine, however,
at the lips, and not opening it outward too much; the same with
the nostrils, looking to the dead head to note the beautiful
curves which can be treated so as to express, at will, rest,
alarm, or defiance, according as the under-cutting is managed;
the eyes of the model must be hollowed out and deeply undercut to
receive the hollow glass globes (see Chapter XII), and the eye
pits (lachrymal sinuses) relieved.

Although we have cast the head whilst attached to the body in
order to get our difficulties increased, yet we will now imagine
the stag’s head, with a long piece of neck-skin attached, severed
from the body, in the manner in which heads usually arrive from
Scotland to be mounted as trophies of the chase. The model being
ready, the dead head is now skinned, the skin being taken
entirely off the head, and being “double-skinned” as described,
washed and cured, is now ready for mounting.

First, however, the horns must be sawn from the skull by
cutting away a triangular piece of the bone to which they are
attached; drill this bone for two long screws, by means of an
American “twist-drill,” fitted into an ordinary brace. Next, the
prepared model requires blocking; this may be done as shown at
Fig. 26. A slot to receive the board should have been previously
cut in the plaster under-jaw of the model, or, in a more simple
and efficient manner (see Fig. 31), by procuring a piece of
“quartering,” 3 in. x 2 in., about 2 ft. in length, cutting a
channel in the under-jaw and the back of the head to fit it,
wedging up, and pouring in wet plaster to make all secure. The
head of the model should be cut to receive the horns, leaving
about half-an-inch or more of plaster before coming to the
wood.

The quartering protruding below the neck must now be fixed in
a vice, and the horns screwed in. seats, the screws coming
through the plaster and into the wood, which they should “bite”
for an inch or so of their length; wet plaster is then poured on
the top, and the back of the head made up by the addition of
more. When dry the quartering should support the model with horns
attached, and all parts should be immovably rigid.

Nothing remains now but to thin the skin all over the inside
in a careful manner, remembering., the thinner the skin the
better the points of the model will show up. When finished,
simply draw the skin over the model like a glove upon the hand,
put a little clay in the “bags” of the eyelids, perhaps a little
about the nostrils, and fix the various parts in the
under-cuttings made to receive them, being sure that the lips go
in naturally, not leaving a thick edge outside. The ears now
require blocking; to do this many taxidermists run a wire all
around each ear from the inside, or put cardboard inside, sewing
another piece outside by the edges to give shape.

Neither of these plans is, I am sure, equal to my method of
cutting a zinc plate to the full size of the ear — when
flattened out — and inserting it between the skin, pushing
it well up to the tip; afterwards it may be elevated or
depressed, and moulded to any shape, or to any degree of
convexity; a little clay placed at the base of each ear improves
its shape, and assists to fix it in position.

The last thing to be done is to cut the “quartering” to the
length and angle required, to determine upon the shape and size
of the neck, and to fix the neck block (see Fig. 27) to the
“quartering” by screws.

Fig. 31 —
Back view of model with neck block inserted.

A A, the Horns attached to piece of Skull; B B, the Model; C,
Quartering on which the Model is mounted.

Try the skin of the neck for length and shape, and then fill
up each side of the block with peat nailed on, over which pour
wet plaster, making up the back of the head as you go on, keeping
the neck in front narrow, and of an elegant shape, using clay
afterwards over all to do this. During all this time you will no
doubt have had the skin off and on several times to get the shape
to suit, and you will have taken precautions not to break away
the thinly carved parts around the mouth, nose and eyes.

The very last operation is sewing up; this is done with a
“skin” needle (glover’s needle) and strong hemp, double and
waxed; commence your stitches at the skin in front of one of the
horns, bring it around to the back, and enter your needle in the
edge of the skin at the side, lace across and across, including
the other horn, in the manner most convenient, being careful,
however, to make every stitch “tell,” otherwise, as the skin
dries, the horns will be left bare around the “burrs,” and ugly
gaps appear. The neck being sewn up, is to be nailed around its
circumference to the neckblock by strong tacks.

The skin of the face is, perhaps, a little out of position; it
must be properly arranged on the model, and wire points of
suitable size, filed up from galvanized wire, must be driven into
the eye-pits, inside the corners of the mouth, the nostrils and
ears, and also on various parts of the face and the head, to
prevent the skin rising whilst drying. The eyes should now be
inserted, and the skin of the eyelids filled slightly, and drawn
naturally around them. Hang the head up as high as possible out
of the way, and also because the room is always warmest near the
ceiling; two centre-bit holes of different sizes, forming a kind
of keyhole, may be drilled in the centre of the neck-block, or
strong wire bolted in the form of a loop near the top to hang it
up by.

Be sure all is sound and firm, as also the nail on which the
specimen hangs, otherwise your own, or your stag’s, head may come
to grief. Plaster heads being very heavy at first, before drying,
it is as well to get them dried, if possible, in advance of the
mounting, to obviate great weight, and also a tendency to cause
mildew inside the skin. It is really astounding, however, to
observe how very light plaster becomes when thoroughly dry; clay
of the same sized model is, on the contrary, exceedingly heavy
— more than twice the weight of plaster.

Sometimes it may be necessary, if wanting a frill of hair, or
what not, to be conspicuous, to keep it in position until dry, by
brushing on paste, or thick clay water, to stiffen the hair in
the desired manner. This can afterwards be brushed off, when the
head is ultimately cleansed, before screwing it on its shield.
Foxes’ and other similar heads may be blocked best by the process
sketched out as relating to Figs. 26 and 27: and finally attached
to suitable shields (see Chapter XIII.)

Looking at the skeleton of the otter, Plate III., we at once
observe that it is placed in the position it assumed when the
animal was alive and walking with a stealthy, cat-like, movement.
This skeleton is not very unlike that of the fox, nor, if we
except its smaller size, that of the lion. Hence we shall be
enabled to refer to it, from time to time, as being sufficiently
our guide to the mounting of these animals.

We will not be too ambitious to begin with, and will,
therefore, take our old friend the fox for our first lesson. This
is the animal sure to be selected by all learners, and the reason
is not far to seek — it being of a manageable size, not too
large nor too small; an animal, moreover, of a picturesque habit
of body, and about whose death more or less of mystery hangs
— this mystery so dear to the imagination of the youthful
amateur! In some places the death of the vulpine robber of hen
roosts is hailed with delight, and people are to be found even
— oh, horror! — willing to grasp in friendship the
hand of the slayer.

In such a county as Leicestershire, foxes are not
“accidentally” killed, but when so, what bewailings over the
“late lamented!” what anathemas upon the villain’s head who is
suspected of “vulpicide”! If it were not so serious a matter, one
would be inclined to laugh over Anthony Trollope’s description,
in the “American Senator,” of the old hunting farmer who moved
himself and his dinner to the other side of the table, in
speechless indignation, lest he should be contaminated by the
presence of a sympathiser with a man who wantonly killed a far
too sacred fox, which gobbled up the aforesaid man’s ducks and
fowls. Let this sad relation be a warning to all who look with
acquisitive eyes on the scented jacket of our “Reynard.”

Moral, procure your specimens from the Highlands, where they
are not worshipped, nor protected, with a view to being hunted to
death afterwards.

Having procured our specimen, we lay it in state on the
modelling table, and, having decided to mount it by the first
process mentioned at the beginning of this chapter, viz., by
using the skeleton as a foundation, we have further to decide if
the animal is to be open-mouthed or not. In the first case, we
shall require the skull, in order to show the teeth and palate;
in the latter case, we may discard the skull if we choose, making
a model of the head in a similar manner to that of the stag, but
with the difference that now, our specimen not being horned, will
make a mould and model much more easily.

We decide, then, to keep the skull as part of the skeletal
foundation. Skin out the animal in the usual manner, as described
in the last chapter, with these differences, that the skin must
be split on the underneath, from the vent to above the shoulder
(in some cases, and for some attitudes, this cut must extend up
the throat); cross cuts from this must extend all the way down
the limbs, on their inside surfaces. By these five cuts
the body is released entirely from the skin, the head
being cut off at the nose, and the feet at the claws; nothing,
therefore, of the skeleton remains in the skin but the cores
supporting the claws.

Measure the body now carefully for size, etc.., and treat
the skin in the manner indicated, and turning to the body,
disjoint the hind limbs at the junction of the femur with the
pelvic girdle, and the fore limbs at the junction of the humerus
with the scapular arch (see Plate III). Cut off the head (A, B),
and trim it. If you cannot make a rough representation in wood of
the pelvic girdle (H) and scapular arch (M), you had better cut
these bones out and trim them, as they, or their representatives,
give a natural set to the limbs. Throw away the remainder of the
body. You now possess the complete skin, and also the bones I, J,
K, L, and N, O, P, Q, together with the skull and the four other
bones, or their semblances. Having properly cured all these
parts, we will for this lesson take the skeleton of the otter and
its attitude as our guide.

Our first care, then, is to provide a block of wood, similar
to that in the illustration, for the animal to stand on; the
length and width of this are, of course, determined by the
measurements which should have been previously taken — its
thickness should not be less than one inch. The next thing to be
done is to cut a piece of 0.5 in. or 0.75 in. deal to represent
the body — now thrown away — figured in the plate as
D, E, F, and R; the shape as shown in Fig. 32 will be found the
most convenient.

To this attach, by bolting, a thick wire, to represent the
neck (C), and of sufficient strength to carry the weight of the
head, also another thinner one to take the place of the tail (G).
At the point M nail two small blocks of wood on each side of the
body-board, in order to slightly raise from its surface, and also
attach thereto, the scapulars; do the same at H, remembering that
the thickness of the blocks with bones attached determines the
width of the chest, etc.. Bore holes along D, through which
thrust stout wires to represent the ribs, bending them into
position, and bringing them over the edge of R, and bolting each
end into one or the other of the holes along its lower surface.
The wires must, of course, be cut of sufficient length to go
right through the holes at D, to form both sides of the ribs, ere
being finally bolted in the holes at R.

Fig. 32 —
False body of wood, with neck and tail wires
attached.

We now have a cage, as it were, of wood and wire, terminating
in two long wires, in which state we leave it for the present.
The next process is to drill the leg bones (I and J, and N and P)
with an American twist-drill and brace, in order to push up a
wire rod of sufficient stoutness to carry the weight of the body;
leave plenty of length of wire above and below. [Footnote:
In cases where drilling is impracticable, it will be sufficient
to firmly lash the bones to the rod in the position which they
should occupy during the subsequent modelling.]

Next drill the bottom board to receive the wires under the
feet, where shown at L and Q; when firmly bolted underneath bend
the rod with attached bones into the positions shown on Plate
III. Bend the upper portion of the rods now at right angles, in
order to go through the scapulars and pelvis. Next take the cage
(Fig. 32) representing the body, with pelvic girdle and scapular
arch attached, and ready drilled, lift between the limbs, pushing
the top wires — now at right angles — through the
holes drilled to receive them, bending these down on each side.
We have now a rough but fairly correct image of the skeleton
without a head.

Taking now the natural skull (A B), we open the jaws as much
as desired, and filling in the cavities with paper and tow,
perfect the shape by modelling with clay to replace the flesh.
Fixing this on the wire, C, we make up the neck with tow and
clay, binding the former on very tightly, and adding clay to give
character, especially where it approaches the chest. The cage
must now be tightly packed with old newspapers, brown paper, or
clean straw, but with neither hay nor “flocks.”
[Footnote: “Flocks” and sacking are the harbouring places
of Tinea Tapetzella, L., a destructive little moth, the
ravages of whose larvae once cost me all the “soft” parts of a
sofa, besides filling the house before discovery with the perfect
insect — eager to perpetuate its race at my
expense.]

Before this is done, however, it will be as well to interlace
the wires with tow, laid on as a thin sheet, and glued; be sure
of the shape now — if ever; let the cage be widest in the
middle, tapering off above and below and toward each end, being
careful to make it a little smaller, if anything, than the actual
body; make up with straw and tow at E, keeping this part narrow
underneath; bind the tail, G, thinly with tow, gradually
thickening it as it approaches F; cover all these parts with clay
where required.

The fore and hind limbs, especially the latter, require very
careful modelling. To do this properly measurements and tracings
of the shapes should have been taken. Bind tow around all, to
roughly represent the form, and then artistically adjust clay to
represent the muscles and flesh. The appearance presented now
should be as a clay model — without hair–of the specimen
taken in hand.

Nothing now remains but to take the skin, properly thinned
down and prepared, and try it over the model, altering the latter
where it is too large or too small. Perhaps it may be necessary
to pull it over — commencing at the head — several
times before getting it quite right. When fairly satisfied with
your progress, commence stitching the skin up from the neck,
adding clay where wanted, noticing that, in the position you are
now working to, the neck will hang low, and rather fine in front,
between the fore limbs, and that the flanks will be tucked
up.

Go on sewing up until you are at the point behind the
shoulders, including the fore limbs in this; pad the skin at the
toes with clay, to replace the flesh previously cut away. Leave
this now, and go to the tail end; bend the wire down, and insert
it in the hollow of the skin of the tail, and work on the hind
limbs, finishing as you go on, and sewing up to the point between
F and E. This leaves you the remainder of the body to finish, and
also gives you a chance to dispose of any loose skin about that
part. The clay and wire, being both amenable to any alteration,
can be beaten into shape where required. Finally, sew up, and if
your modelling is correct all the remainder must of necessity be
correct also.

To keep the skin in position on the model, tack it down with
galvanised wire points, or by stitching it through in places,
such as occur in the neck and various parts of the limbs. These
wires can, of course, be removed, and all stitches cut and drawn
away when the specimen is dry, at which time the eyes can be
inserted, if not previously done. In all cases, however, the
specimen must be thoroughly dried before it can be finished off
by modelling the inside of the lips and palate with wax or cement
(described in Chapter XII), or before the model tongue is
inserted.

The foregoing thus describes the method which may be adopted
to educate the tyro to a correct idea of the osteology of his
subject, and, by analogy, to the osteology and relation of parts
of many others. It is practicable only in the case of mammals
done from the flesh, and whose skeleton is not valuable. In this
system, as in all the following, the model head of any animal,
cast as described for the stag, may be substituted for the
natural skull, unless the teeth, etc.., are required to be
shown. Model teeth carved from bone, or from wood, subsequently
coloured, are sometimes inserted in model heads, but this is not
recommended.

The next part of our theme deals with mounting skins from the
“flat,” when no body or skeleton is forthcoming, and is practised
by masters of the art, who know by experience the various
positions assumed by their subjects when in a state of Nature. By
this means large animals, such as tigers, lions, bears, etc..,
may be mounted from skins sent home from abroad.

The skin having been relaxed and thinned (see Chapter X.), is
put over the model in exactly the same manner as described for
the otter. The model is, however, now determined by the size of
the skin, which, when perfectly soft, is folded together, legs
and all, and shaped on the floor of the studio, in somewhat the
position required; from this a rough tracing is made with red
chalk on boards kept for that purpose, or on sheets of brown
paper. These are afterwards corrected by eye, or by the aid of
smaller drawings or good prints.

Inside this large finished tracing trace an irregularly-shaped
long oval, quite two inches smaller all the way round than the
tracing of the skin itself. Cut this out in stiff paper, and from
it shape up one or two boards of 1 in. to 1.5 in. deal, jointed
together on edge; to this “body-board” bolt by staples the four
strong rods representing the fore and hind limb bones. Let each
have a right-angled crook where they first spring from the board,
to represent the scapular and pelvic arches, then bend each one
(more or less) at each joint (see Plates III. and IV.) according
to the attitude desired.

Insert these rods at the feet through a strong base made of 1
in. or 1.5 in. boards, remembering that, if the projected
attitude of your model demands the fore-feet raised, you must
nail “quartering” on end, to which attach a platform of board of
the requisite height. Fix two medium sized or one very strong rod
for the neck, and one moderately strong for the tail. In a large
animal — and I am assuming that we are now engaged on a
lion — the wire ribs may be replaced by sections of 0.5 in.
board, cut as in Fig. 33, and nailed vertically on each side of
the body-board. On the half-rounded surfaces of these, laths are
tacked, and afterwards covered with straw, or plastered over,
just as a plasterer would finish a partition; let this be kept
somewhat smaller than you wish it, in order to allow for its
subsequent covering with clay. From this proceed to model the
limbs as before, using plaster over the tow, and clay over all;
next arrange the tail, and, lastly, fix on the skull, if you
possess it, or the plaster head, which has been modelled and cast
in the same manner as the stag’s head.

The skin is then fitted on as before, with the difference that
the head part, which, perhaps, is split right through the chin,
and the tail, split up its whole length, will come on more
easily, but will of course require more sewing up. When finished,
adjust the claws, the mane, the ears (blocked with zinc as in the
stag), and the mouth. Should it be wished to open the mouth to
express rage or what not, the edges of the skin of the mouth,
being no doubt destitute (in a “flat” skin) of their inner lining
(the mucous membrane), must have this replaced by wash leather
sewn all around to form the “bags” of each side of the lips,
previously mentioned.

These “bags” are then filled with clay or modeling wax, and
when the skin is put on over the skull, are pinched into proper
shape and attached by their inner edges to where the gums should
be, or around convenient teeth by stitches, or by strong wire
points driven into the bone, in the manner which will best
commend itself to the learner. Suffer it to dry, looking at it
from time to time, and when perfectly dried model the palate,
etc.. (should the animal be represented open-mouthed), in the
manner described in Chapter XII. So great a mass of damp clay
used on these large animals is apt to crack; paper may
advantageously be pasted over the whole surface before the skin
is put on, which will stick well and not interfere with the
modelling.

Fig. 33 —
Section of half-inch board to represent ribs

Plate IV. Lion
mounted from the “Flat”.

The last process of all is mounting, by means of a model
skeleton of carved wood, supplemented by iron rods. This is a
system which requires a slight knowledge of wood carving, and
would be practised in the case of having the skeleton of the
large animal to model from, or in cases where, having both
skeleton and flesh, it is desirable to retain the former as an
osteological preparation, and to treat the skin as a taxidermic
object.

Supposing, then, we have a lion in the flesh, our first care
must be to determine upon the position and attitude it is to
ultimately assume. Not to perplex the student too much, we
determine that it shall take the attitude of our last example
(Plate IV), or else that shown in Plate III. Accordingly, we
arrange it on a platform just raised from the floor of the
studio, when by propping and judicious management we make it,
although lying on its side, assume the position we require.

We carefully measure and take a rough tracing of the whole.
The muscles are now worked up into position, and moulds taken
from them, or from such parts of the limbs as we require. By
careful arrangement of clay, wooden walls, and other packing, it
is quite possible to take a complete cast of the whole carcase.
Piece-casting, however (described in Chapter XII), assists us
here. From these moulds we cast reproductions of parts of the
lion, which will be patterns for, and greatly assist us when,
ultimately modelling up.

The animal is now skinned, and the skin prepared in the usual
manner, i.e., stripped entirely from the body, cured, and
thinned down. The bowels are taken out, the flesh is cut off the
bones, and the parts H, I, J, K, and M, N, O, P (see Plate III.),
are copied by carving in lime-tree or beech wood.
[Footnote: Bones can be cast in plaster quite as easily as
anything else, and often take the place of carved
wood.]

These models are then sawn longitudinally in halves, and each
half hollowed out to receive, and to be either tied, or wired on
to, the rods-1, 2, 3 and 4 of Plate IV. By this it will be seen
that the model is made up precisely as in that, the only addition
being the substitution of carved limb-bones in place of tow
previously used to bind over the rods. Clay or other substances
is worked over these “wooden bones,” and the finishing processes
are the same as the last.

The skeleton must be carefully mounted and articulated, as
described in Chapter XII. Be careful to get the ultimate
phalanges of each limb out of the skin, and by careful management
we shall also be enabled to get the bony core from the claw, and
thus reap the advantage of having two specimens instead of one
only.

Large fishes — such as sharks; or reptiles, such as very
large alligators and crocodiles — may be mounted by slight
modifications of any of the foregoing processes.

Often hardened wax, linseed oil and plaster, plaster
composition, modelling wax, cobbler’s wax, shellac, or what not,
is used to represent the muscles and “flabby” parts. Wax is also
used to paint over the mucous membrane, where shown or exposed.
All this will be found fully explained in Chapter XII, thus
exploding all the rubbish talked, and written, about “secret” or
“patent” compositions, which, when put on soft, will ultimately
dry as hard as marble. These wonderful “secrets” may be summed up
under three heads — Clay, Plaster, and Wax!

CHAPTER VIII.
SKINNING, PRESERVING, AND MOUNTING FISH, AND CASTING FISHES IN
PLASTER, etc..

FISH being, perhaps, the most
difficult things in the range of taxidermical science to set up
in a satisfactory manner, I would impress upon the amateur to
take particular note of their peculiarities of shape and colour,
and to practise upon any easily-obtained and tough-skinned fish,
such as the perch, which is, indeed, one of the best of all
subjects for the purpose.

However, as I have now before me a pike of over 11 lb., I will
take it to illustrate this lesson.

Provide yourself first with skinning knives (see Figs. 11-13)
and a tool previously figured, which I call the undercutting
knife or scraper (see Fig. 29). It is best made by an artisan,
but may be roughly fashioned by beating out a square piece of
steel (a worn-out, narrow, flat or square file will furnish
this), while hot, to a flat surface at one end, turning it at
right angles for about an inch, and filing each side of this
return, as also the point (the latter previously rounded) to a
cutting edge, and afterwards giving it the requisite hardness by
“tempering” it in oil. Many tools used by the gun stockers are to
be bought ready made, which will fulfil all the requirements of
this tool, but it is so easily made that I consider anyone with
the least mechanical ability should be able to make one. The
object of this tool is to run in under bones and to cut and drag
out pieces of flesh through small openings.

Measurements being taken and a board provided on which to
trace the outline, select the best side of the fish — by
which I mean the side most free from bruises or “gaff” marks.
Cover this with thin paper (cap paper) or muslin, which readily
adheres by the natural mucus peculiar to fish. This process, it
will be seen, keeps the scales fast in their seats during the
operation of skinning, and gives also a “set,” as it were, to the
skin. The fins and tail must not, however, be allowed to dry
until the fish is finished. To avoid this and the consequent
splitting of these members, keep them constantly damped by wet
cloths or tow wrapped around them.

Lay the worst side uppermost, and then cut the skin from head
to tail in a straight line. A mark called the subdorsal or
lateral line is an excellent guide for this. With a strong pair
of scissors, — or rather shears, cut through the scapular
arch (the large bone beneath the gills — see Fig. 34, A). Slip the
knife under the edges of the cut skin, and lift the skin the
whole of the way up at about an inch in on both sides of the cut.
Having carefully separated this from the flesh, take the broad
knife in your hand, and, holding the skin lightly in the middle,
with a scraping motion of the knife on the skin free it from the
flesh. If the knife is held in a proper manner, slanting inward
towards you, this will be done very easily. Take care, however,
when approaching the fins not to cut outward too much, or you
will rip them out of the skin. Fig. 34 shows the point where we
have arrived, B being the loosened skin and C the flesh denuded
of that skin.

Fig. 34 — Diagram of pike, showing skin removed on
one side from lower half of body.

Skin out the remaining part up to the back, holding the knife
in the same manner; the fish is now half way skinned, and holding
only by the fins. Slip the scissors carefully underneath the
bones of each fin and cut them away from the inside. Do not be
afraid of leaving a little flesh attached, as this can be easily
cut away from the inter-spinous bones afterwards, it being better
to have too much flesh attached to them than to find you have cut
the skin through on the other side. It is a matter of little
importance as to which fin you cut away first; but let me assume
that you begin at the under anal fin, and, having cut this away
carefully, you now find that it is still held at a little
distance above it by. the orifice of the vent. A great deal of
care is required here to cut the attachment away so as not to
pierce through to the outside; a piece of wool comes in very
handily to push in, to stop the flow of blood, etc..

Now turn your attention to the only fin on a pike’s back, the
second or lower dorsal one, which cut away in the same careful
manner as before. Working down toward the tail, get the broad
knife as much underneath as you can, and then push the fingers
underneath until they meet, and thus gradually free the flesh
from the skin almost up to the extreme end of the caudal fin (or
tail). Insert the point of the large shears underneath, and cut
the bone and flesh completely through at a distance of about 1
in. from the last joint of the vertebrae at the tail; this leaves
a little flesh attached to be subsequently cleared out.

Leaving this, go now to the head of the fish, and, holding
down the skin of the back, which is now flat on the table, run
the fingers of the right hand, especially the thumb, right down
the whole length of the fish to the tail, in order to loosen all
from the underneath to the front of the fish, when the whole will
be free up to the two ventral fins, which you may cut away, as it
were, with your finger nails, leaving the attached flesh to be
trimmed away afterwards. The only part which now holds to the
skin is that near the head, as also the under one of the pectoral
fins; this latter must be carefully cut away, as the skin is very
thin about here, and is rather awkward to get at.

Now let the fingers of both hands come into requisition, and
let them meet under the head. Regaining the large knife, with it
sever the bone of the head cutting toward you. If this is
properly performed, the cutting edge of the knife will touch the
gills; be careful in this, that your knife does not slip and go
too far into the underneath skin. Various internal organs will
now appear, holding fast to the skin; these must be cut through
with the knife, and the effect should be that the whole of the
body comes out in a piece. [Footnote: The beginner may,
however, for greater facility of handling, cut the body of a
large fish into sections, and remove them piece by piece as he
progresses.] For larger fish, say one of 20 lb. or more, I
recommend splitting the flesh longitudinally or vertically, and
getting out each section separately.

The skin now being free from the body, scrape away all the
small pieces of flesh that are still adhering inside the skin,
down the centre, and around the fins and tail. Those fin-bones
(inter-spinous bones) which protrude inside may be cut fairly
short with the scissors, and the flesh nicely scraped off from
each side. What flesh is left on the tail must be carefully cut
away with the aid of the knife, scissors, and shears, care being
taken also to free the bone to the very end, and yet not to
disturb the scales underneath. A considerable amount of scraping,
coaxing, and undercutting will have to be done here.

Having well freed the fins of flesh, turn your attention to
the head: make a cut along the side of the under jaw, then cut
away the gills at their top and bottom attachments and pull them
out, if you do not wish them ultimately to show. When this is
done you will become aware that there is still remaining a piece
of the vertebra leading up into the head; take the large knife
and chop it to the underneath; it will then lift up, exposing
what little brain the fish has. Cut this piece off before it
enters the palate; and then, by clearing away a little flesh, you
come to the eye, which take hold of with your finger and pull
out. You will now see several small cavities filled with flesh
running up to the sides of the face, cheeks, etc..

The scraper or undercutting knife will now come into use, and
small pieces of flesh must be laboriously cleared out. After this
tool has well loosened and partly cut away the intervening flesh,
the fingers may be advantageously used to work with, by being
pushed in at the orbits of the eyes, to pull out the loose pieces
of flesh. (Note that, in doing this, it is as well to be careful
not to cut your fingers with the edges of the small bones of the
head, nor with the palatal or lingual teeth.)

The operator must not forget during work to keep the fins well
damped, otherwise they rapidly dry and split, as I have before
observed.

Running between and from the pectoral fins a thick, fleshy
process continues right up underneath the jaw. As the included
flesh is contained in a remarkably thin silvery skin,
extraordinary care is necessary in freeing this from the flesh,
so the knife, the scraper, and the fingers will all have to come
into play. It is held at the extreme end under the jaw by a thin
bone, which, though skinned to its under part, must not be cut
away, but left slightly attached.

A little sand at this stage is useful to rub the fingers in,
to prevent them slipping, when pulling out small pieces of flesh.
The pectoral fins are, of all, the most awkwardly situated to
skin out, coming, as they do, at the bottom of the pectoral
process, and they must be left with their bones attached, and the
flesh be scraped away from between the two fins, and underneath
each one, until nothing remains. Carefully attend to the latter
part of these instructions, or the final result will be anything
but creditable.

Some flesh now lies between two skins along the sides of the
fish’s gums, between the tongue and the teeth; a hole must be cut
inside at the back part of the head below the eye, the crooked
scraper inserted, and all the flesh dragged out bit by bit.
Remember, this is merely a thin membrane, and the slightest
awkwardness ruptures it; in large fish, however, the finger may
be introduced with advantage, to pull out pieces of flesh. Many
taxidermists cut the whole of this away, and replace it with
plaster; but if the fish’s mouth is to be left open it never
looks so well as if done by this method.

Cut under the tongue from the outside, and scrape out the
flesh, fill up with putty, and sew up neatly.

To stuff the fish, procure a thick piece of wire somewhat
longer than the body, bending one end, to form a large oval-
shaped loop, to be afterwards pushed up as a bearer into the
head. At some little distance from this (which will be determined
by the size of the fish), form a smaller loop, to which, by
twisting, attach a short piece of wire a size smaller than the
main bearer. At some distance from this — near the tail
— form another small loop, to which attach in the same
manner another piece of wire. Cut off the end of the main wire,
so that when pointed and pushed through it will fall just outside
the bone of the tail. It will no doubt be obvious to the reader
that this forms an artificial backbone.

The large oval or pear-shaped loop at the one end is intended
to be pushed in to support the head, and, in the present method,
also to help the formation of the model. The loops and attached
wires are to support the body, and also to bolt it to the back of
the case when finished. The pointed end is to push into and
support the tail.

I should have previously mentioned that this wire backbone
should be made before the fish is skinned, as you then have a
correct guide to position of bearing wire, and, more important
still, a guide to the extreme length of the fish.

Round this wire, wrap paper, glued, or tied with string, until
it is a little less than the body of the fish previously taken
out; when this is done, cover over with tow well tied on with
hemp, until it has arrived at almost the shape and size of the
body — being, in fact, the shape of the fish without head
or tail — lay this down and thoroughly anoint all parts of
the fish. Stuff out the now hollow sides of the face, gums, and
the underneath of the throat with putty, of which push some thick
pads underneath the root of the tail and all about the fins; next
lay a thin skin of putty over the whole of the skin on the
inside.

Wet plaster is commonly used for this, but I prefer putty, as
not being quite so heavy, and as affording also a more agreeable
agent to work with. Another objection to plaster, used in
quantities, is that the heat it evolves in drying has a tendency
to make the scales rise.

The next thing to be done is to insert the body. Pushing the
sharpened end of the tail wire through the bone of the tail,
bring it up on the inside. Now drill a little hole with a
straight awl through the bone of the scapular arch, and with a
strong needle and thread join that part together. The next hole
should be drilled through the uppermost gill-cover, through which
pass the needle; then commence, travelling downward, to sew the
skin together, taking care to go inward a sufficient distance
from the cut edges with the needle and thread, and yet not
allowing the edges of the skin to overlap.

This requires patience, and a little coaxing together of the
edges of the skin. As you go on, see where your fish appears out
of shape on the upper side, which is a pretty good guide but not
always so — for the under, or show side. If the defect is
serious, insert a little more putty, followed by a judicious
application of tow, which will push the putty to the under side
where you most require it.

It is sometimes expedient, after having sewn half-way down, to
begin to sew up from the tail end, so as to meet the other
stitches. A fine “skin” needle must be used.

After it is entirely stitched up there will still be little
places which will require deepening and filling up. A little tow,
pushed in any interstices which maybe left between the stitches,
will soon rectify this, and also help to shorten the fish, which,
in a first attempt, is almost sure to be made too long. This is
important, as a well-fed pike should be of some considerable
depth, and not a lanky monster like a snake. A little gentle
tapping with the handle of the stuffer on the upper surface is
sometimes advisable. Get the back almost straight, and, having
brought it nearly to your measurements, you may lift the fish by
the two wires, but in a very careful manner, to examine the show
side, and there note any little defect. Of course, you must
constantly alter your position.

Carefully lift the fish off the board, still keeping the sewn
side uppermost, and measure the distance between the two upright
wires, and make corresponding holes in the board, which push down
on the top of the fish, bringing the wires through, and bending
their ends down upon the board, so that the specimen may be
temporarily rivetted thereto. Place your hand carefully
underneath the head of the fish, and turn the board over. You
have now the fish right side uppermost. About the head some
little extra stuffing will doubtless be required, and, as the
putty will have got a little out of place in the process, it must
be replaced, and the head and neck made up nice and square; also
look to the tail, and put that in proper shape.

Gently press the skin all over with the hands, deftly patting
it with a small piece of smooth flat board to reduce any lumps,
and to get the putty to work evenly over the surface. Get some
short wires and set the head, with the mouth open as much as you
require. One wire may be pushed through the nostril, another may
go under the tongue, and a third parallel to it beneath the
under-jaw. Arrange the teeth, some of which you will find loose,
and, with “needle points,” fix into position the gill-covers,
which tie over with a little wrapping cotton to keep them from
springing up out of place. Next look to the fins, under which put
some pieces of peat, covered by stiff card-board, and nicely
display them, pinning them down and binding the wrapping cotton
over them.

As a last operation, go over the whole of the outside skin
with the carbolic formula, No. 15. When this dries, which it will
do in the course of an hour or so, varnish the whole upper
surface with best clear “paper” varnish, which will have the
effect of keeping the skin and scales in position. Let the fish
be now put by in a moderately warm situation to thoroughly dry,
which will, in the case of a large specimen, take about a month.
The skin is then like leather, with no colour in it at all, and
must, of course, be subsequently coloured up according to nature,
the eyes put in, and mounted in a case with appropriate
water-weed; notes on all of which will be found in Chapters XII.,
XIII., and XIV.

Sawdust or bran may be used for stuffing the fish, which, with
the addition of putty and tow to certain parts, will shape it up
very fairly. Some taxidermists use tow alone, but this I do not
think advisable.

Small fish, up to 2 lb., may, after skinning, have a bent wire
inserted as before, and be filled entirely with plaster of Paris,
which must be mixed in readiness, and poured in the skin to fill
out every part. The cut edges of the skin are now brought
together, and the whole fish turned over to show its proper side
and rapidly patted into shape, before the plaster has time to
set.

Beautiful models of the thicker-skinned fishes maybe made by
this method, but rapidity of execution is a sine quâ
non.

As the student progresses he will find that it will not be
necessary in all cases to cut through the scapular arch of the
under side to clear out the head. As a proof, I may mention that
I have just finished an 18 lb. fish, the head of which was
skinned out by this process.

Small pieces of cabinet cork (about one-eighth inch thick)
will be found very useful for spreading the fins of small fishes.
[Footnote: Notes on repairing fins will be found in
Chapter XII.]

In the event of the scales rising from the use of wet plaster
or any other cause, “wrapping” cotton, i.e., “darning”
cotton, or shoemakers’ hemp, must be bound over them to keep them
in place.

Since the foregoing was written I have considerably modified
and improved on my former method. Having tried wet “pipe” or
modelling clay, with which to stuff the skin, I found that
although at first the working and general shape were excellent,
yet that, after a few days, the skin shrank and puckered in so
abominable a fashion as to render all the labour bestowed upon it
of no avail. This was most unfortunately tried upon a twenty
pound pike, and so utterly misshapen did it become as to
necessitate the relaxing of the specimen — the removal of
the clay — and the ultimate shaping up again, by the dry
plaster process. [Footnote: Several correspondents have
written as to the relaxing of fish skins. This is a very easy
process, nothing more being done to the skin than plunging it in
water until sufficiently softened.]

This substitution of dry plaster of Paris (price about 4s. per
cwt.) for sand is one of the very best things ever tried. Having
skinned your fish in the manner before directed, crowd the head
with peat and the face, and parts of the skin inside, and around
the fins and tail, with putty. Lay the fish-skin, cut
uppermost as before, and ladle in dry plaster, beginning at the
tail end; as this fills in, sew up, being careful to shorten the
skin, making it deep, and not long and narrow at that part; being
particular also to well ram in with a short stick the plaster to
fill all out, and to remove ugly creases or depressions. When
about a third of the fish is done, fasten your stitches and go on
filling in at the head; as you work toward the middle, lift head
or tail very gently to peep underneath at the progress you are
making.

As the stuffing progresses, deepen the body toward the middle,
being careful at the same time to well ram in the plaster.
Finally sew up.

Now take another board, a little more than the length and
breadth of the specimen, lay it upon the top of the skin and tie
it to the board on which the fish is resting; by this means you
will be enabled to reverse the fish without cracking the skin or
destroying the “set” of it. Untie your boards and the object is
before you right side uppermost. It will now be seen if your
modelling is true or not; in the latter case, note where all
imperfections occur, reverse the fish once more, and ram more dry
plaster in between the stitches, or if the latter be sewn up too
tightly, cut them where needed, sewing up again when all is
satisfactorily accomplished.

The specimen being once again right side uppermost, will
appear somewhat flat along the centre, this arises from the
plaster accommodating itself to the flat surface of the board.
You must now, therefore, pass a wet cloth several times over the
surface of the skin, and proceed to pat it in a light and
dexterous manner into a more rounded shape with your hand, or by
the aid of a piece of board shaped in the manner of a small flat
bat.

The head will require a great deal of attention; it is now
flat and, perhaps, drops down upon the board, causing the upper
gill cover to open more widely than it should; to obviate this,
prop the nose from the underneath by a piece of peat, or by a
wedge-shaped piece of wood; the tail may be twisted or thrown up
by the same means if required. The mouth may be kept open as much
as desired by pointed wires, one driven through the “nostrils” of
the upper jaw, the other wire resting against the teeth inside
the lower jaw. The fins being kept damp during the preceding
operations, must now be “braced out” by the process heretofore
described, and the fish washed, varnished, and dried in the usual
manner.

Nothing, you will observe, has been said as to the oval-shaped
piece of board previously used inside the pike mounted by the
first process. This is wanted when the fish is thoroughly set and
dried; when this takes place, cut the stitches and carefully
shake out the plaster. If a large fish, replace this by tow,
moderately packed; on this lay an irregularly oval-shaped piece
of three-quarter inch board, edges rounded and cut to the shape,
and almost the length of the fish.

No wires are needed at the head and the tail (one end of the
board running into the head), but only those required to support
the specimen in its case. When this board is properly in position
inside the fish, nail the edges of the skin on it with tacks of a
suitable length. Nothing is now needed to complete the fish but
the fixing of the eyes and the colouring of the skin. The eyes
are hollow, and fixed by wax (see Chapter XII).

In cases where it is undesirable or inconvenient to mount a
fish as a whole, the head only may be treated as a taxidermic
object. In this case cut off the head behind the scapular arch,
leaving sufficient of the skin of the “neck” for nailing on the
block. The head being skinned and preserved, as above directed,
is then nailed by the skin of the neck on to a similar block to
that shown in Fig. 27. The mouth is set open when required, and
the gullet and underneath the tongue filled up and modelled with
either clay, cement, or wax, the tongue remodelled or substituted
by a copy in wax or cement, the composition and application of
which is fully explained in Chapter XII.

Notes of the colour of the various parts of your specimen
should have been taken previously; in some cases, it is a good
plan to make a water-colour drawing of the whole or certain parts
of your subject when fresh.

FISH CASTING . — Casting fishes by the plaster of Paris
method deserves description, as by this means you are enabled to
get correct copies of the shapes and peculiarities of any
specimen, from the smallest to the largest. Procure some plaster
of Paris of a finer quality — known as “S.F.” — than
that you have been using previously in modelling mammals, or to
fill out the skins of fishes; also some tempered clay —
described in Chapter VII. — and some strips of board
calculated to the depth, width, and length of the fish you wish
to “cast.” The specimen having had all the mucus washed from its
most perfect side, is laid upon one or two sheets of brown paper
or common card-board (“straw-board”)covering the work-table.
[Footnote: I see that Rowland Ward advises the fish being
washed with dilute vitriol (sulphuric acid and water) to remove
this mucus.]

Decide now as to the attitude you wish it to finally assume,
and taking some of the tempered clay, cut it into thin slices,
build it on, as it were, until only the upper half of the fish is
exposed, build under the fins — including the caudal one
— and spread them out as you wish; the clay will usually
stick to their under surfaces, and hold them in position. Should
they “run back,” stick fine pins in them here and there, being
sure, however, to cut of the heads of the latter close to
the upper surface of the fins.

It is often advisable to lay thin card-board or strong paper
under the fins, if the clay is so soft as to come up over the
edges. Having now nicely built in the fish — the upper
surface of the clay being carefully smoothed over with a
knife-blade and a stiff brush (“Artist’s hog-hair, No. 8”) dipped
in water, surround the clay with pieces of board, set up on edge,
so as to form a wooden wall around all; the height of this wall
should exceed the greatest depth or thickness of the fish by some
inches. Tie these four walls — planed on their inside
surface — around with strong string, finally nailing
outside all with long “French” nails, driven into the table as a
support against pressure from within. Look all over carefully,
and if any open spaces appear between the clay tablet and the
boards, fill in with more clay.

The fish being now ready for casting, take a bowl, which half
fill with clean water, into this “dust in” the fine plaster of
Paris, in small quantities at a time, stirring each portion until
all is ultimately mixed smoothly and without lumps; when enough
is mixed — and the knowledge of quantity only comes with
experience — pour it quickly, yet gently, over the whole
surface of the fish; jarring the table with your fist causes the
plaster to settle down more evenly, without leaving “blowholes.”
The plaster should now be an inch or more in thickness over the
highest portion of the fish, in order to give sufficient strength
for the “return” cast. Should this not be so, mix some more
plaster and strengthen the cast, endeavouring to get a flat
surface on the top.

After ten minutes, take away the nails and boards, thus
allowing more air to get to the mass of plaster. In half an hour
— should the plaster be of good quality — the mould
may be raised, turned over, and the fish will tumble out, or may
be pulled carefully out without the least trouble. Remove the
clay, and on looking into the mould it will, if properly made,
show every scale and every line, be free from “blow-holes” or
blemishes of casting, besides having a fairly even and square
surface surrounding the cavity from whence the fish has been
extracted.

This first mould can be cast into again by plaster of Paris,
and will, in the case of most fishes, turn out a satisfactory
reproduction of the original. Some fishes there are, however, so
curiously shaped as to make the first or “female” mould so
“undercut” as to render it impossible to get a return cast. In
this case, nothing avails but the destruction of the first to
release the copy. There are several ways of doing this; one of
the most simple is sawing with many cuts the edges of the first,
or, as it now becomes, the “waste” mould as near to the cavity as
you dare, before casting into it; having done which, and allowed
several hours, or a day even, to elapse, you proceed to break it
away, piece by piece, by gentle blows with a hammer, leaving the
enclosed fish to make its appearance little by little. When this
plan is adopted, the last cast or copy must be run double the
thickness to that you wish to destroy, otherwise you may break
the copy instead of the “waste” mould. Another way is to make the
first mould very thin, or to put thin successive coats of plaster
over the fish, with brown paper between each coat, and
subsequently breaking them away, layer by layer, after the fish
is extracted and the mould is filled in by plaster.

In casting into the first mould for the “copy” or perfect
cast, it will, of course, be necessary to lay it concavity
uppermost, and to surround it with a wall of board like the last,
brushing over the concavity, and indeed the whole of the tablet
surrounding it, with soft soap and water, or oil, or thin
pipe-clay and water; or, if the mould has been baked dry, soaking
it in water alone will be sufficient to prevent the copy
sticking. Recollect that the flatter the tablet —
surrounding the cavity left by the fish — is made, the
better will be that of the model.

Supposing that your cast, or model fish, has been turned out
in good condition, you will see that there are still certain
inequalities of the tablet, and certain roughnesses around the
fins, mouth, etc..; these latter must be “relieved” and
undercut by the aid of the “undercutting” and “relieving” tools
(see Figs. 29 and 30), the tablet must be pared flat by a long
broad flat chisel called a “firmer,” and the edges also nicely
squared.

Your fish is now in high relief on a flat background, but,
though having correct form, it still lacks colour. How to colour
plaster satisfactorily is a puzzle which has perplexed more
persons than taxidermists. Speaking for myself, I say that,
having coloured the cast, when wet and when dry, with
water-colours, used paper varnish when dry, with water-colours
and varnished and painted, and painted and varnished the cast in
oils, having used “mediums,” tempera painting, “secco” —
yet I am not satisfied; there appears a want of softness and
brilliancy; probably the electro-type or wax process I am now
trying may give the desired effect.

So disgusted was I at the seeming impossibility of getting
“tone” on plaster, that I determined to try paper for the last
cast or model; to this end I took lessons at a theatre in the art
of “making (paper) faces,” with the result that I now employ
paper whenever practicable, and find it answer, from a 2 lb.
perch to a 2 cwt. skate. Two or three most valuable results
accrue from the substitution of paper for plaster. First, extreme
lightness combined with strength; and secondly, of course,
excellence of detail and facility of colouring in either water or
oil. For remarks upon the artistic mounting of fishes, see
Chapters XII., XIII., and XIV.

There are, I find, two excellent articles on fish-casting in
“Science Gossip for 1878,” to which I must refer my readers for
further details. They agree to differ, however, in one important
particular. One writer says that plaster-work is as “cleanly as
any cooking operation, and there is no reason why ladies should
not engage in it”! The other writer speaks of it as “filthy,”
and, really, I feel inclined to back his opinion; for having now
used some tons of plaster, ranging in quantities from a few
pounds to 3 cwt. at a time, I must say that, of all the
diabolical messes for getting into the hair or on the boots, and
about a house or workshop, plaster is the worst. “Matter in the
wrong place,” ma foi! you can’t keep it in the right.

I see that Mr. Taylor, amongst other suggestions, advises the
use of half glue and treacle (see Chapter XII.) to cast the first
mould for groups of small fishes. If these glue-moulds were
backed with plaster “piece-moulds,” they might be useful for
larger “undercut” specimens.

Plaster moulds and casts, it must be remembered, are, when
dried, about a quarter of their weight when wet, and the same
bulk of dried (not dry) plaster is not half the weight of dried
clay.

A very scientific way of getting the correct shape of a fish
for mounting by taxidermy is to take a cast of the specimen and
to then adjust the skin, stuffed by the dry-plaster process, into
the cavity of the mould, suffering all to dry therein.

Fishes are now and then mounted in halves, should one side be
very badly mangled; the effect is not very good, however, and
should not be resorted to but in extreme cases.

Large fishes, such as sharks, rays, and sturgeons of great
size and weight, must be cast by the “piece-mould” process
— described in Chapter XII. The mounting of such as these,
by processes of taxidermy, differs from all previously described
in this chapter. When of excessive size and weight, they may be
“set up” with wood and iron (see Chapter VII.), or if smaller
— say, up to 5 cwt. — may be managed by being cut
underneath along the stomach, from head to tail, and mounted by
two short iron rods being screwed into a beam of wood, or bar of
iron fitted into the body, now filled out with hay, straw, or,
better still, clean shavings, supplemented by tow here and
there.

When all is sewn up, and the mouth — if open —
modelled by any of the methods described in Chapter XII., the
short iron rods protruding from each end of the fish must be let
into metal sockets (iron gas pipes will often do) screwed into
iron feet, supporting all clear from the floor of the museum or
room they are to be exhibited in.

============================================

CHAPTER IX.
SKINNING, PRESERVING, AND MOUNTING REPTILES.

THE chief requirement in
preserving reptiles is a fine and delicate hand, in order to deal
successfully with these mostly thin-skinned objects. I will now
take one of the easiest reptiles as our first study, viz., the
common snake.

Formerly, by the old method of skinning, the bodies of all
snakes were removed through an incision made along the skin of
the stomach. This was a mistake, for the smaller snakes may be
skinned through the mouth, in this wise: Open the jaws of the
snake to their fullest extent, taking care, if a venomous one,
not to scratch the fingers with the fangs, which, in the adder or
viper, lie folded backward along the roof of the mouth. If the
fangs are not required to be shown, the safest plan will be to
cut them away with a pointed pair of scissors.

Holding the snake by the back of the neck with the left hand,
push the pointed knife or scissors into the mouth towards the
back of the head, feeling at the same time with the point of the
knife for the first joint of the cervical vertebrae, having found
which proceed to dislocate it with the point of the knife, gently
feeling your way, and cutting downward toward the right hand, the
thumb of which presses against the snake’s head at the under jaw.
Feel round with the point of the knife or scissors up toward the
outer skin, gradually working the flesh away. Cut away the under
jaw, inside the skin, from its attachment to the flesh, pushing
the point of your scissors or knife at the same time as far as
you can get it down inside the skin.

This all requires time and patience, lest you push the point
of the knife or scissors through the skin, and also as you will
not at the first trial succeed in detaching the head from the
body.

The knife or scissors must then be run a little way down the
back, to detach the skin. The neck being now entirely free, lay
the knife down, and endeavour to push the broken or cut part of
the neck up through the mouth; seize the end with your right-hand
fingers and gradually slide the skin down with your left hand,
turning it inside out until the vent is reached, which carefully
cut away; beyond this the skin, instead of coming off easily,
holds most tenaciously to the flesh, and the knife again comes
into play to free it all around.

Near the extreme tip of the tail it will be almost impossible
to get the flesh out, you must therefore skin as far as you can,
and then make a small incision underneath, lay back the skin on
each side, and cut the flesh away. This operation will bring the
outside of that part inside. Return, it, and neatly sew up the
cut from the inside, trim away all flesh from the skull bone,
take out the eyes, put a stitch in the vent, and anoint the whole
of the skin with the preservative.

To return the skin, push a small round stick down and pull the
skin back on it; when nearing the tail, the stick may be removed
and the fingers used to gradually work this end through, or tie a
small piece of wool to form a knot on the end of a piece of
doubled thread, and push it through by a long fine needle from
the inside to the out, at the same time allowing the needle to
come through, by doubling up the skin. You may reach the needle
with your fingers, or by long pliers, or even shake it down by
its own weight, then by pulling gently you return the skin
effectually.

To stuff the snake insert a funnel in the mouth, and fill the
skin through this with fine dry sand, or dry plaster of Paris,
taking great care to shake the sand well down, and fill in every
part in a regular and natural manner. On nearing the head, push a
piece of wool in the mouth to prevent the sand from running back,
and then adjust the snake to the position you require, leaving
the head to be modelled last with clay, putty, or plaster, then
remove the wool and make up the throat and inside of the mouth.
The natural tongue should be left in, and displayed with fine
entomological pins pushed in the hollow underneath, and, if shown
open-mouthed, the fangs must be dropped, and the head raised, as
in the attitude of striking.

Large snakes, such as rock snakes or boas, must be cut on the
old system, viz., under the belly and skinned out, working up and
down, as the muscles have so firm an attachment that the
slipping-out process cannot be resorted to, but each inch will
have to be laboriously cut away from the skin.

Sawdust, mixed with a little sand, will be found very useful
for stuffing the larger snakes, as the weight of so large a
quantity of sand, or plaster, is too great to successfully
manipulate.

A few hints as to snakes and snake bites may not be out of
place here. To distinguish the only venomous snake found in the
British Isles is an easy matter, if you have the opportunity of
examination. In the first place, the viper appears to have a more
spade-like and flatter head than the common snake, and has a
black cross from near the neck running up to the centre of the
head, where it terminates in a black, oval-shaped spot. But the
greatest distinction, perhaps, is that a decided pattern runs
down the centre of the back, appearing as a chain of
obtusely-shaped diamond markings, joined together, and somewhat
confused in places.

Again, it has in the upper jaw two fangs or poison teeth,
which in rest lie folded back; on pulling them down with a
needle, or by the crooked awl, they appear as fleshy lobes, out
of the apex of which is thrust a little glittering point like a
small fish bone. This small bone or fang is hollow, and through
it the poison is ejected by a process too complex to describe in
the pages of this work.

The slow-worm, common snake, and the one other rarer species
found in Britain, have merely the ordinary holding teeth, and are
all perfectly harmless. Should anyone be so unfortunate as to be
bitten or scratched by a viper’s fang, a speedy application of
liquor ammoniae fort (strong ammonia) to the wound, with the
further application of a ligature above the bitten part will be
found of benefit, and perhaps avert serious consequences until
surgical aid is obtained. Ipecacuanha has been recommended,
powdered and applied as a poultice, with an internal
administration at the time also, of the same drug, but that
requires medical knowledge as to the extent and frequency of the
doses.

To skin frogs, they must be plunged for an hour or so into the
hardening solution, No. 15, and then skinned out from the mouth.
This requires a finer hand and greater patience even than
skinning a snake, as they must be carefully cut all around the
mouth, and the body drawn out to the tips of the toes. They may
then be filled with sand or plaster. Various comic scenes may be
made by skilfully grouping frogs, but if required to stand on
their hind legs, etc.., they will have to be wired, by pushing
fine wires or stout “needle points” through a small piece of
board into the sole of the foot, to run a little distance up the
legs. A drop or two of strong glue, or shellac, may then be
placed under each foot, which should be tied down until the glue
sets hard.

Tortoises and turtles may be skinned out, by having the skin
of the legs, tail, and head, cut away all round from their
attachments to the under shell or plastron. The joints of the
limbs should then be cut away from the inside, and the tortoise
or turtle laid on its back, in which position the separated limbs
hang down, remaining only attached by their top skin (now
underneath), to the upper part of the shell or carapace. This
exposes the whole of the remaining skin and flesh, which must be
cut and scraped out with knives, or with the under-cutting tool.
The limbs are then skinned out, preserved and stuffed, and their
proper bottom edges, when in position, pushed back and attached
by needle points to the plastron.

Lizards, “horned toads,” and chameleons may be cut underneath
and filled out with sand or plaster.

In all cases where sand is used it may, after the animal is
thoroughly dry, be shaken out if desired; but if the reptile is
not very large, it is better to leave it in.

Dry plaster will, in nearly all cases, be found the best
medium for filling out the skins of reptiles; with this I have
succeeded in giving characteristic and life-like attitudes to
moderately-sized alligators, etc..

Very large saurians may be mounted by either of the methods
referred to in the closing sentences of the last two
chapters.

CHAPTER X.
DRESSING AND SOFTENING SKINS OR FURS AS LEATHER.

THE art of tanning is, as I
before observed (vide Chapter I.), of the highest
antiquity, as systems which are now in vogue must have been known
— if even in a modified form — to the ancients. We
may roughly divide the operation of tanning into two distinct
classes: One which deals with skins without the preservation of
the fur, and which turns the skin so operated upon into the
material known as leather; and the other in which we seek to
preserve the fur or hair in its normal position, at the same time
dressing or rendering soft the actual skin itself.
[Footnote: Some time during 1874, Mr. Joseph Tussaud read
a paper before the Society of Arts, in which he described an
ingenious method of removing the fur of any animal to an
artificial “backing” of india-rubber or flannel, whilst the
original skin was utilised as leather.]

The first process — the making of leather — does
not lie within the scope of this work; suffice it to say, that
the hair or fur is first removed by lime, etc.., and that after
the skin is scraped it is treated variously with oak bark,
valonia, sumach, divi-divi, etc..; it is a long and tedious
process, and certainly does not lie within the province of a
taxidermist to attempt; and though it is possible for a tanner to
preserve the fur with the skin, yet the attempt is undesirable,
by reason of the false or unnatural colour it permanently gives
the fur — totally destroying the character of a light one,
and heightening or lowering, as the case may be, the tint of a
dark fur. [Footnote: Technical works on Tanning are
“Tanning, Currying, and Leather-dressing,” by F. Dussance: “The
Arts of Tanning, Currying, and Leather-dressing,” from the French
of J. de Fontenelle and F. Malepeyre.]

To obviate all these difficulties and disagreeable effects, a
totally distinct method of dressing skins has been devised, which
is called “white leather dressing.” Before I describe this,
however, it may be as well to say that no liquid, powder, or
combination of liquids or powders, is known into which a skin can
be plunged, and — without the aid of manual labour —
come out as leather. I mention this to correct a popular error,
many people supposing that labour has no part in the preparation
of “white leather.” To those who are not prepared to work hard,
and very hard indeed, I say, Do not waste your time in reading
this chapter.

The usual and time-honoured method of dressing skins, say a
rabbit’s skin, is — directly it is removed from the animal
— to nail it on a board, and rub it in with alum four
parts, and common salt one part, or plunge it in a warm solution
of the same for a day or so, taking it out, nailing it on a
board, letting it dry, rubbing it down with pumice stone, and
plunging it again and again, and repeating the drying and
pumice-stoning process until the skin becomes pliable. This is
rather an uncertain process, for if well steeped the hair or fur
is constantly damp, or dripping even, in humid weather, and if
alum alone is used, though killing much of the dampness, it
renders a fine thin skin of a parchment-like texture.

However, as anything is better than a damp skin, I have used a
mixture of four parts of burnt alum to one part of saltpetre (see
Formula No. 9) for small skins, finally rubbing down and dressing
the skin with lard, into which a little essence of musk has been
stirred, and kneading the skin with the hands in bran to remove
the superflous grease.

This, and all other such processes where alum is used, must,
however, give way to the following, which I have used for certain
skins for years, and for which I was originally indebted to a
correspondent in the English Mechanic; his formula was:
“Mix bran and soft water sufficient to cover the skins, let this
stand four hours covered, before being used, then immerse the
skins, keeping them well covered for twenty-four hours (less in
India), then take out, wash clean, and carefully scrape off all
the flesh. To one gallon of water (hot) add one pound of alum and
a quarter of a pound of salt. When dissolved and the mixture is
cool enough to bear the hand, immerse the skins for twenty-four
hours, take out and dry in the shade, and well rub with the
hand.