Taxidermy and Zoological Collecting (eBook)

CHAPTER I.

THE WORKER AND THE WORK TO BE DONE.

The need of thoroughly skilled collectors is increasing every hour; and right here let me say to the young naturalist athirst for travel and adventure, There is no other way in which you can so easily find a way to gratify your heart's desire as by becoming a skilful collector.

The most important vertebrate forms are being rapidly swept off the face of the earth by firearms, traps, and other engines of destruction. In five years' time—perhaps in three—there will not be a wild buffalo left in this country outside of protected limits. There are less than one hundred even now—and yet how very few of our museums have good specimens of this most interesting and conspicuous native species.

The rhytina, the Californian elephant seal, the great auk, and the Labrador duck have already been exterminated. For many years the West Indian seal was regarded as wholly extinct, but a small colony has lately been discovered by Mr. Henry L. Ward on a remote islet in the Gulf of Mexico. The walrus, the manatee, the moose, mountain goat, antelope, mountain sheep, the sea otter, the beaver, elk, and mule deer are all going fast, and by the time the museum-builders of the world awake to the necessity of securing good specimens of all these it may be too late to find them.

Even in South Africa, where big game once existed in countless thousands, nothing remains of the larger species save a few insignificant springboks, and no game worth mentioning can be found nearer than the Limpopo Valley, eight hundred miles north of the Cape!

Now is the time to collect. A little later it will cost a great deal more, and the collector will get a great deal less. Sportsmen, pot-hunters, and breech-loading firearms are increasing in all parts of the world much faster than the game to be shot, and it is my firm belief that the time will come when the majority of the vertebrate species now inhabiting the earth in a wild state will be either totally exterminated, or exist only under protection.

But do not launch out as a collector until you know how to collect. The observance of this principle would have saved the useless slaughter of tens of thousands of living creatures, and prevented the accumulation of tons upon tons of useless rubbish in the zoological museums of the world. It costs just as much to collect and care for scientific rubbish as it would to do the same by an equal number of scientific treasures. Between fool collectors on one hand, and inartistic taxidermists on the other, the great majority of the world's zoological museums have been filled with objects that are anything but attractive; and for this state of affairs the collectors are more to blame than the taxidermists.

Bad work in collecting is, in nine cases out of ten, due to one of two causes—ignorance or laziness. By some curious process of reasoning, many really intelligent men conclude that they can go into the field and collect successfully without having learned a single thing about methods, or asked a word of advice from a competent instructor. Many seem to think that the only thing required is main strength, and that even that may be exerted by proxy. Even now, men who have travelled and written books go to South America and dry all their skins in the sun—after having carefully removed all the leg bones—and their small skeletons they boil!

Some of the worst mammal skins I ever saw were made by a professor of natural history, who actually managed to do nearly everything as it should not have been done. And yet, collecting all kinds of animal specimens, in all climates, is perfectly simple to any one who has enough enterprise to inform himself of the most reliable methods, and put them in practice.

I will confess I feel very deeply on this point, for I have toiled, needlessly, unnumbered hours, and days too, in overcoming, as far as possible, the inexcusable blunders of collectors. I have seen thousands of dollars wasted in this way that could have been saved by good work in the field. It is easier to mount two good skins within five per cent of perfection than to mount one poor one not nearly so well. Let me advise the directors of all scientific museums, institutions of learning, and patrons of natural history generally, when appealed to by an enthusiastic collector for funds with which to go abroad and collect an untold amount of priceless specimens, in every case withhold your aid until the would-be collector demonstrates conclusively that he has learned how to collect. If he has not wit enough and grit enough to acquire ability, and then prove property, he is not fit to send anywhere, save back to the bosom of his family.

These are the qualities which are required to make a first-class collector: He must have a fair general knowledge of zoology, especially the vertebrates. He must be a good shot, a successful hunter, and capable of great physical endurance. Then he must be a neat and skilful operator with the knife, and conscientious in the details of his work, down to the smallest particulars, for without this quality his specimens will always be faulty and disappointing. In addition to all these requirements he must be a man of tireless energy, incapable of going to bed so long as there are birds to be skinned, and who, whenever a doubt arises in his mind in regard to the necessity of more work on a specimen will always give the specimen the benefit of the doubt.

I strongly advise every one who becomes a collector to learn to sketch from nature. No matter whether you have any artistic ability or not, if you are determined about it, you can learn to make pencil sketches of rare specimens in the field, and of native houses, costumes, weapons, etc., and remarkable natural objects of all kinds, which, even though crude and inartistic in finish, may be of permanent value to the scientific world. The camera and dry plate are of great value, but commend me to the pencil and sketch-book that "sticketh closer than a brother," and that never fail you on account of weather, weight, or accidents. Therefore I say, sketch; sketch poorly if you cannot sketch well, but above all, sketch.

The moment you make up your mind to go on a collecting trip, even if be only into the next county, read everything you can get hold of which will tell you aught about the natural history of the country you are to visit. Ask what has been written, search library catalogues for titles of books, then get all you can, and read all you get. Only the churl will refuse to lend you a book you cannot afford to buy. Read all about the physical geography, geology, climate, inhabitants, fauna and flora, for all these will have a direct bearing on your work. If you are going to unexplored territory, about which nothing has been written, then "read up" on the adjacent countries, for even that will be very useful information.

Guides and Companions.—No matter where you go, you will be obliged to have one or more companions, who know the country, to act as guides and general assistants. It may be that you can find a single person combining the necessary qualities of a guide and interpreter with those of a boatman, a teamster, or porter. The expense of such assistants must be counted upon from the very first. It may be stated as a general rule that in the tropics the services of natives can be had cheaply; while those of Europeans are generally dear in comparison with what they do.

Clothing and Food.—These subjects I propose to leave entirely alone. They make excellent "padding" for a work of this kind when there is a lack of really useful information with which to fill up; but every man feeds and clothes himself according to the dictates of his temperament, his purse, or his own sweet will. Whether his way is the best or the worst, he will still have food and clothes more or less suitable to his needs, and time spent in advising him what to wear and to eat is time wasted. These questions are generally controlled by the locality and circumstances.

Preservation of Health.—There are certain hygienic principles which apply all the world over, and since their observance becomes in the tropics a question of life and death, I will record them. Their observance has preserved my health intact in unwholesome jungles in a way that I consider nothing short of wonderful.

Never sleep on the ground in the wet portions of the tropics when possible to avoid it, but keep above the poisonous miasmatic vapors that lie close to the earth.

Boil water before drinking it, if it is thought to be bad, and avoid stagnant water at all times.

Drink no spirits whatever except when really sick or debilitated, nor wine, nor other alcoholic beverages. Avoid brandy, whiskey, and rum as you would the plague.

Eat no unripe fruit, and with moderation of even ripe fruits, excepting bananas, which are harmless and most excellent food.

Avoid eating large quantities of meat, but give the preference to rice, and farinaceous foods generally.

Wear light flannel shirts, and at all hazards keep the head and nape of the neck well shielded from the sun. Pith helmets are best.

After getting wet, do not sit down in the hot sun with your wet clothes on, but if you must remain in the sun, keep moving.

By means of rubber clothing, or "ponchos," keep from getting wet whenever you can.