Faults in bird-stuffing. - Tools required. - Knowledge of anatomy. - Attitudes of birds. - Flow of the plumage. - How to skin a bird. - Inserting cotton. - Killing wounded birds. - Stuffing a hawk. - The First incision. - The skin to be pushed, not pulled. - Arrangement of wings. - Modelling the body. - Spreading the tail. - Constant attention required. - Strength and elasticity. - Value of corrosive sublimate. - Experience and patience.
Were you
to pay as much attention to birds as the sculptor does to the human frame,
you would immediately see, on entering a museum, that the specimens are
not well done.
This remark
will not be thought severe when you reflect that that which once was a
bird has probably been stretched, stuffed, stiffened and wired by the
hand of a common clown. Consider, likewise, how the plumage must have
been disordered by too much stretching or drying, and perhaps sullied,
or at least deranged, by the pressure of a coarse and heavy hand--plumage
which, ere life had fled from within it, was accustomed to be touched
by nothing rougher than the dew of heaven and the pure and gentle breath
of air.
In dissecting,
three things are necessary to ensure success: viz. a penknife, a hand
not coarse or clumsy, and practice. The first will furnish you with the
means; the second will enable you to dissect; and the third cause you
to dissect well. These may be called the mere mechanical requisites.
In stuffing,
you require cotton, a needle and thread, a little stick the size of a
common knitting-needle, glass eyes, a solution of corrosive sublimate,
and any kind of a common temporary box to hold the specimen. These also
may go under the same denomination as the former. But if you wish to excel
in the art, if you wish to be in ornithology what Angelo was in sculpture,
you must apply to profound study and your own genius to assist you. And
these may be called the scientific requisites.
You must
have a complete knowledge of ornithological anatomy. You must pay close
attention to the form and attitude of the bird, and know exactly the proportion
each curve, or extension, or contraction, or expansion of any particular
part bears to the rest of the body. In a word, you must possess Promethean
boldness and bring down fire and animation, as it were, into your preserved
specimen.
Repair to
the haunts of birds on plains and mountains, forests, swamps and lakes,
and give up your time to examine the economy of the different orders of
birds.
Then you
will place your eagle in attitude commanding, the same as Nelson stood
in in the day of battle on the Victory's quarter-deck. Your pie
will seem crafty and just ready to take flight, as though fearful of being
surprised in some mischievous plunder. Your sparrow will retain its wonted
pertness by means of placing his tail a little elevated and giving a moderate
arch to the neck. Your vulture will show his sluggish habits by having
his body nearly parallel to the earth, his wings somewhat drooping, and
their extremities under the tail instead of above it--expressive of ignoble
indolence.
Your dove
will be in artless, fearless innocence; looking mildly at you with its
neck not too much stretched, as if uneasy in its situation; or drawn too
close into the shoulders, like one wishing to avoid a discovery; but in
moderate, perpendicular length, supporting the head horizontally, which
will set off the breast to the best advantage. And the breast ought to
be conspicuous, and have this attention paid to it--for when a young lady
is sweet and gentle in her manners, kind and affable to those around her,
when her eyes stand in tears of pity for the woes of others, and she puts
a small portion of what Providence has blessed her with into the hand
of imploring poverty and hunger, then we say she has the breast of a turtle-dove.
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 defect, 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, shoulders, rump
and thighs with wonderful exactness; so that, in stuffing the bird, if
you make an even, rotund surface of the skin where these 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 where
it is introduced a disagreeable stiffness and derangement 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 forepart 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 of the thigh- bones remain.
Everything else--flesh, fat, eyes, bones, brains and tendons --is 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, etc., 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 betwixt 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 the 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 on 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. Suppose
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 nothing 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, its 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 finger 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 you
have 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 your 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 wing joins on to the body. Forget
not to apply cotton; cut this joint through; do the same at the other
wing, 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 nictitating 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 part of the skin, as you cannot
well get to 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
at 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 uncleaned 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 in 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 tear 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-nail and forefinger.
Now skin the thigh quite to the knee; cut away all flesh and tendons,
and leave 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 stains. Place the bird upon your knee on its
back; tie together the two threads which you had fastened to the end of
the wing- joints, leaving exactly the same space betwixt them as your
knowledge in 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 cut 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
now to support them obliquely, must naturally fall to their perpendicular.
Hence the reason why the legs appear considerably 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 lie 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 had, 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 bees' wax at the point 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
stargazing 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 end of them to the side of the box with a little
bees' wax.
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
it.
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 retouch all the different parts of the features 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 hand 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: firstly, 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 skin, 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 particles
of the sublimate and flies off. The sublimate will not injure the skin,
and nothing can detach it from the parts where the alcohol has left it.
[Footnote: 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.]
Furs of
animals immersed in this solution will retain their pristine brightness
and durability in any climate.
Take the
finest curled feather from a lady's head, dip it in the solution, and
shake it gently till it be dry; you will find that the spirit will fly
off in a few minutes, not a curl in the feather will be injured, and the
sublimate will preserve it from the depredation of the insect.
Perhaps
it may be satisfactory to add here that some years ago I did a bird upon
this plan in Demerara. It remained there two years. It was then conveyed
to England, where it stayed five months, and returned to Demerara. After
being four years more there it was conveyed back again through the West
Indies to England, where it has now been near five years, unfaded and
unchanged.
On reflecting
that this bird has been twice in the Temperate and Torrid Zone, and remained
some years in the hot and humid climate of Demerara, only six degrees
from the line, and where almost everything becomes a prey to the insect,
and that it is still as sound and bright as when it was first done, it
will not be thought extravagant to surmise that this specimen will retain
its pristine form and colours for years after the hand that stuffed it
has mouldered into dust.
I have shown
this art to the naturalists in Brazil, Cayenne, Demerara, Oroonoque and
Rome, and to the royal cabinets of Turin and Florence. A severe accident
prevented me from communicating it to the cabinet of Paris, according
to my promise. A word or two more, and then we will conclude.
A little
time and experience will enable you to produce a finished specimen: "Mox
similis volucri, mox vera volucris." If your early performance should
not correspond with your expectations, do not let that cast you down.
You cannot become an adept all at once. The poor hawk itself, which you
have just been dissecting, waited to be fledged before it durst rise on
expanded pinion, and had parental aid and frequent practice ere it could
soar with safety and ease beyond the sight of man.
Little more
remains to be added, except that what has been penned down with regard
to birds may be applied in some measure to serpents, insects and four-footed
animals.
Should you
find these instructions too tedious, let the wish to give you every information
plead in their defence. They might have been shorter; but Horace says,
by labouring to be brief you become obscure.
If by their
means you should be enabled to procure specimens from foreign parts in
better preservation than usual, so that the naturalist may have it in
his power to give a more perfect description of them than has hitherto
been the case; should they cause any unknown species to be brought into
public view, and thus add a little more to the page of natural history,
it will please me much. But should they unfortunately tend to cause a
wanton expense of life; should they tempt you to shoot the pretty songster
warbling near your door, or destroy the mother as she is sitting on the
nest to warm her little ones, or kill the father as he is bringing a mouthful
of food for their support--Oh, then! deep indeed will be the regret that
I ever wrote them.
Adieu,
CHARLES
WATERTON.
FINIS
From Wanderings in South America, the North-West of the United States, and the Antilles,
in the years 1812, 1816, 1820, & 1824.
With Original Instructions for the perfect preservation of Birds, Etc. for Cabinets of Natural History. Charles Waterton, Esq.,
Introduction by the Rev. J. G. Wood, Macmillan and Co., 1880, London. |