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, 1.), which I placed in a "preparation" jar, filled with common benzoline at 1 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 a son gout.

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;

1, 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—Starling—Showing Position of First Incision and the Commencement of the Removal of the Skin.

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:

No. 1. STURNUS VULGARIS, 1. (Starling).

Sex.—Male Juv.

Colour of irides—Dark brown.

Colour of beak—Dark slate.

Colour of legs & toes—Reddish-brown.

Leicester, 21/9/83. Collector, MB.

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;

1, 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.