KEY

TO

North American Birds.

CONTAINING A CONCISE ACCOUNT OF EVERY SPECIES OF LIVING AND FOSSIL

BIRD AT PRESENT KNOWN FROM THE CONTINENT NORTH OF THE

MEXICAN AND UNITED STATES BOUNDARY, INCLUSIVE

OF GREENLAND AND LOWER CALIFORNIA,

WITH WHICH ARE INCORPORATED /~^ ^^ / 7 )

GENERAL ORNITHOLOGY: c^

AN OUTLINE OF THE STRUCTURE AND CLASSIFICATION OF BIRDS;

AND

FIELD ORNITHOLOGY,

A MANUAL OF COLLECTING, PREPARING, AND PRESERVING BIRDS.

^\z Jt'ftf) l£ti{tt0n,

(entirely revised)

EXHIBITING THE NOMENCLATURE OF THE AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGISTS' UNION, AND INCLUDING
DESCRIPTIONS OF ADDITIONAL SPECIES

IN TWO VOLUMES.
Volume I.

By ELLIOTT COUES, A.M., M.D., Ph.D.,

Late Captain and Assistant Surgeon U. S. Army and Secretary U. S. Geological Survey ; Vice-President of the American

Ornithologists" Union, and Chairman of the Committee on the Classification and Nomenclature of North American Birds ;

Foreign Member of the British Ornithologists' Union ; Corresponding Member of the Zoological Society

of London ; Member of the National Academy of Sciences, of the Faculty of the National

Medical College, of the Philosophical and Biological Societies of Washington.

PROFUSELY ILLUSTRATED.

BOSTON:
DANA ESTES AND COMPANY.

1903.

^0^. ifH^^., p^,ici

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1S72, by

F. W. Putnam and Elliott Coues,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1874, by

F. W. Putnam and Elliott Coues,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.

Copyright, 1S82, I884, and 1887,
By Estes and Lauriat.

Copyright, 1903,
By Dana Estes & Co.

University Press :
John Wilson and Son, Cambridge.

=©0

SPENCER FULLERTON BAIRD,

Nestor of American Ornithologists,

Ci)is COorli,

BEARING TO OTHERS THE TORCH RECEIVED FROM HIM IN EARLIER DAYS,

315 DeDtcateU*

PUBLISHER'S PREFACE TO FIFTH REVISED EDITION.

*' I ^HE present work constitutes the completion of Dr. Coues' life-long labors
-*- on behalf of the science of ornithology, too widely knowni and appreciated
to require further mention here. In preparing it for publication the publishers
have suffered extraorduiaiy expense, difficulty, and delay by the loss of Dr.
Coues' assistance in the proof-reading and illustrating of the book. The manu-
script was finished but shortly before his death, and though fortunately com-
plete in this form, was left in such shape as to present almost insuperable
difficulties to the compositor or proof-reader, who lacked the author's direction
and supervision.

The publishers have had the good fortune to secure the services of Mr. J. A.
Farley, who has read the manuscript of the Systematic Synopsis, constituting
Part Three or the body of the work, with the most painstaking care. To the
scholarly zeal and conscientious spirit of fidelity and accuracy with which this
ornithologist has carried out the task he set himself of presenting the fifth
edition in exactly the form Dr. Coues would have wished, had he lived, the
publishers and their readers owe an imlimited debt of gratitude. The result,
though a posthuinous book, is one which Dr. Coues would un(|uestionably have
been proud to own as the crowning work of his life. As a scientific work, it
is without doubt authoritative and definitive.

The science of ornithology has made vast strides since the publication of the
fourth edition of this work, and the present issue has outgrown the limits of a
single octavo volume. The following points briefly summarize the scope of the
additions and changes from former editions :

1. Enlarged descriptions of species.

2. Accounts much fuller than in former editions, of the breeding liabits of
birds, particularly the detailed description of eggs.

iv PUBLISHER'S PREFACE TO FIFTH REVISED EDITION.

3. The full collation in the text (not in an appendix, as in former editions)
of the nomenclature of species in the Key, with the nomenclature and numera-
tion of the American Ornithologists' Union Check-List.

4. The full synonymies and bibliographical references in the case of very
many species — a new feature of the Key, and invaluable to students of all
degi'ees of advancement. To the preparation of this important feature Dr. Coues
brought his rare gifts as a bibliographer and nomenclator.

5. The previous very extensive series of illustrations has been largely in-
creased by the addition of over two hundred new figures of species hitherto
seldom figured, from life studies by Louis Agassiz Fuertes executed with a
delicacy, beauty, and accuracy never before equalled.

6. The introductory (i. e. general) descriptions of ordinal, family, and other
groups are much amplified over those in preceding editions of the Key, being of
a broad scope which make plain the comparative relationships of North Ameri-
can families, genera, and species of birds, with extralimital forms (Old World
and neotropical). This broad treatment makes the Key more than the purely
faunal work its title would imply.

7. An appendix containing the additions to the American Ornithologists'
Union-Check List of North American Birds and the changes in nomenclature
not noted elsewhere which have been made since Dr. Coues' death.

DANA ESTES AND COMPANY.
Boston, October, 1903.

PREFACE TO THE FOURTH EDITION.

TN presenting a new edition of the Key to those who are interested in North
-'- American Birds, the publishers desire the author to add a word by way
of preface. But little need be said of a book which speaks for itself in passing
through several editions to supply that demand for a standard textbook of
ornithology which this work has itself done much to create, by stimulating and
satisfying an interest in one of the most delightful departments of Natural
History.

The part which the Key has taken in the evolution of the subject since
1872 is sketched in the " Historical Preface " (pp. xxvi-xxx), first introduced
in the Second Edition, 1884 Since the founding of the American Ornitholo-
gists' Union in 1883 the impetus then given to the study of birds has resulted
in a momentum directly proportionate to the number of workers in this field
and to the length of time these have been engaged. I could wish the fruits
of such unparalleled activity were all sound and ripe, but they are not ; growth
has been forced to some extent in rival hot-houses, and the familiar parable of
wheat and tares finds a fresh illustration. Too quick transition from an old to
a new order of things in the technicalities of our subject has brought disorder,
as usual. Till the pace slackens somewhat, so that we can see where we stand,
I do not think it would be wise to reca.st the Key.

Therefore, tlie only change in the present edition is the addition of a Second
Appendix, beginning page 897.

E. C.

PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION.

THE second edition of the " Key," which appeared in May, 1884, has al-
ready been out of print for more than a year. Though aware of the
continued demand for a standard work of reference, the author has been unable
to meet it more promptly, having meanwhile accepted some other literary en-
gagements which proved imperative in their demand upon his capacity for work.
Slight as the requisite revision of this book has proven to be, it did not seem ex-
pedient to go to press again without recognizing the steps American Ornithology
has taken during the past three years, though these may be called many rather
than great ones. There is so little to change in the substance of the book that
it has been thought decidedly best tu reprint from the same plates, and put what
new matter has come to hand in the form of an Appendix. However much
there is that might have advantageously gone into the second edition, but did
not, the author is satisfied with nearly everything that did go in, and quite ready
to submit it all to the still further test of time. The transition from what some
of his friends have called the " Couesian Period " may mean a change in form
rather than in fact.

The naming of our birds, as an art distinguished from the science of know-
ing them, has lately been pitched in a key so high that the familiar notes of the
former " Key " might jangle out of tune, or be lost entirely, were the attempt
made to reset them just now. During the confusion unavoidably incident to
such sweeping changes in nomenclature as we have recently made, it will be a
decided benefit to the student, the sportsman, and the amateur, if not also to
every working ornithologist, to be provided with a convenient means of compar-
ing the older with the newer style of nomenclature we have adopted, until each
one shall have grown accustomed to the change of spectacles. This accommoda-
tion is aiforded by the present edition, which leaves the names and their nam-

viii PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION.

bers untouched in the body of the text, and then adjusts them to the new angle
of vision in the Appendix, in parallel columns. Thus the new " Key " turns
either way ; or, to vary the metaphor, the renovated structure stands Janus-
faced, looking both ways at once — backward upon its old self, of which it
has no cause to be ashamed ; forward upon another self, of which it has much
reason to be proud.

The train of incidents which resulted in Mdiat may be called a nomenclatural
explosion was fired at the founding of the American Ornithologists' Union at
New York, in September, 1883. As one of three persons who brought that
happy episode upon an unsuspecting bird-world, which nevertheless greeted their
stroke with acclamation, the author must plead a modesty act in bar of trial of
his pen on that particular count. But as the honor was his of presiding over
the first Congress of the Union, whilst the ideas of its founders were shapen in-
to a permanent and world-wide organization, so also it fell to his lot to appoint
several committees for the despatch of business the Union at once took in hand ;
and of one of these he has to speak here.

This particular wheel v/ithin other wheels turned upon a resolution of the
Union " that the Chairman appoint a committee of five, including himself, to
whom shall be referred the question of a revision of the Classification and
Nomenclature of the Birds of North America." Having accepted the situation,
the author held with his esteemed colleagues many sessions of the Committee in
Washington and New York, and in April, 1885, offered to the Union the result
of much joint labor. The report of the Committee being accepted, it was ordered
to be printed, and it appeared in 1886 in an octavo volume of 400 pages,
entitled " The Code of Nomenclature and Check-list of North American Birds,
adopted by the American Ornithologists' Union," etc.

The objects which we kept steadily in view were : first, to establish certain
sound principles or canons of nomenclature applicable to zoology at large as
well as to ornithology ; and, secondly, to apply these rules consistently and
effectually to the naming of North American birds. Others must be left to
judge how well or ill these purposes may have been accomplished, but the
simple fact is that no sooner had the book appeared than it became the standard
and indeed the only recognized Nomenclator in American Ornithology. That
which the Committee had stamped with the seal of the Union became the
current coin of the realm, other than which our venerable fowl. The Auk, should
know none.

PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION. ix

In estimating the probable consequences for the long run, it is necessary to
discriminate between any given ornithological fact and the handle we may agree
to give that fact. The former is a natural fixity, the latter is a movable furni-
ture ; the former is subject to no authority we can set up, the latter is wholly ar-
bitrary, determinable at our pleasure. Uniformity of nomenclature is so obvious
and decided a practical convenience that even at the risk of seeming to laud
work in which he had a hand, the author cannot too strongly urge compliance
with the Union's code, and adherence to the set of names the Union has
adopted. These may not be the best possible, but they are the best we have.

The author's insistence upon this point does not of course extend to any
case where an error of ornithological fact may appear. That is an entirely
different matter. Eeserving to himself, as he certainly does, the right of indi-
vidual judgment in every question of ornithological science, he is the last to
persuade others to refrain from equal freedom of expert opinion. " So many
men, so many minds," even when the number is only five ; no individual opinion
is necessarily reflected upon any point in the Code and Check-list ; it is the collec-
tive voice of a majority of tlie Committee that is heard in every instance. The
occasion for individual dissent on the part of any member of that body, as of any
other writer upon the subject, arises when in his private capacity as an author
lie has, as it were, to pass upon and approve or disapprove any results of the
labors of others. The Appendix to the present edition of the " Key " unavoidably
brings up such an occasion. Yet that he may not even seem to reflect upon any
of his co-workers, his criticism express or implied has been sedulously reduced
to its lowest terms. It consists chiefly in declining to admit to the "Key" some
forms that the Committee have deemed worthy of recognition by name. Indeed
he has preferred to err, if at all, on the other side, desiring to give the user of this
book the later results of the whole Committee.

Nevertheless he must here record an earnest protest, futile though it may
be, against the fatal facility with whicli the system of trinomials lends itself to
sad consequences in the hands of immature or inexperienced specialists. No
allusion is here intended to anything tliat lias been done, but he must reiterate
what was said before ( Key, p. xxvii ) respecting what may be done hereafter if
more judicious conservatism than we have enjoyed of late be not brought to bear
down hard upon trifling incompetents. The " trinomial tool " is too sharp to
be made a toy ; and even if we do not cut our own fingers with it, we are likely
to cut the throat of the whole system of naming we have reared with such

X PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION.

care. Better throw the instrument away than use it to slice species so thin that
it takes a microscope to perceive them. It may be assumed, as a safe rule of
procedure, that it is useless to divide and subdivide beyond the fair average
ability of ornithologists to recognize and verify the result. Named varieties of
birds that require to be " compared with the types " by holding them up slant-
wise in a good strong light, — just as the ladies match crewels in the milliner's
gliop, — such often exist in the cabinets or in the books of their describers, but
seldom in the woods and fields.

K C.

Smithsonian Institution,

Washington, D.C, April, 1887.

HISTORICAL PREFACE.

remains,
period —

Were a modern Hesiod to essay — neither a cos-
mogony nor a theogony — but the genesis of even the
least department of human knowledge, — were he to
seek the beginnings of American Ornithology, he would
tiiid it only in Chaos. For from this sprang all things,

great and small alike,
to pass through Night
and Nemesis to the
light of days which
first see orderly pro-
gress in the course
of natural evolution,
when is first estab-
lished some sequence
of events we recognize
as causes and effects.
Then there is system,
and formal law ; there
science becomes possi-
ble ; there its possible
history begins.

Long was the time
during which the birds
of our country were
known to its inhab-
itants, after the fash-
ion of tlie people of
those days, — known
as things of which use
could be made, and
studied, too, that use
might be made of them.
But this period is pre-
historic ; no evidence
image. There followed a
sliorter bv far than tlie forni.'r one, tliougli it endures to-day — when the same

5: t^

save in some quaint pictograph or rudely gra

xu HISTORICAL PREFACE.

birds awakened in other men an interest they could not excite in a savage breast, and
the sense of beauty was felt. Use and Beauty ! What may not spring from such divinely
mated pair, when once they brood upon the human mind, like halcyons stilling troubled
waters, sinking the instincts of the animal in the restful, satisfying reflections of the
man ]

The history of American Ornithology begins at the time when men first wrote upon
American birds ; for men write nothing without some reason, and to reason at all is the
beginning of science, even as to reason aright is its end. The date no one can assign,
unless it be arbitrarily ; it was during the latter part of the sixteenth century, which,
with the whole of the seventeenth, represents the formative or embryonic period during
which were gathering about the germ the crude materials out of which an ornithology of
North America was to be fashioned. As these accumulated and were assimilated, — as
the writings multiplied and books bred books, " each after its kind," this special depart-
ment of knowledge grew up, and its form changed with each new impress made upon its
plastic organization.

Viewing in proper perspective these three centuries and more which our subject has
seen — passing in retrospect the steps of its development — we find that it offers several
phases, representing as many " epochs " or major divisions, of very unequal duration, and
of scientific significance inversely proportionate to their respective lengths. All that
went before 1700 constitutes the first of these, which may be termed the Archaic epoch.
The eighteenth century witnessed an extraordinary event, the consequence of which to
systematic zoology cannot be over-estimated ; it occurred almost exactly in the middle of
the century, which is thus sharply divided into a Pre-Limiaan epoch, before the institu-
tion of the binomial nomenclature, and a Post-Linntvan epoch, during which this technic
of modern zoology was established, — each approximately of half a century's duration.
In respect of our particular theme, the first quarter of the nineteenth century saw the
" father of American ornithology," whose spirit pointed the crescent in the sky of the
Wilsonian epoch. During the second quarter, these horns were filled with the genius of
the Auduhonian epoch. In the third, the plenteousness of a master mind has marked
the Bairdian epoch.

Clearly as these six epochs may be recognized, there is of course no break between
them ; they not only meet, but merge in one another. The sharpest line is that which
nms across Linnaeus at 1758 : but even that is only visible in historical perspective, while
the assignation of the dates 1700 and 1800 is rather a chronological convenience than
otherwise. Nothing absolutely marks the former ; and Wilson was unseen till 1808.

The Archaic epoch stretches into the dim past with unshifting scene, even at the
turning-point of the two centuries in which it lies. It is otherwise with the rest ; their
shapes have incessantly changed ; and several have been the periods in each of them dur-
ing which their course of development has been accelerated or retarded, or modified in
some special feature. These changes have invariably coincided with — have in fact been
induced by — the appearance of some great work ; great, not necessarily in itself, but
in its relation to the times, and thus in the consequences of the interaction between the
times and the author who left the science other than he found it. The edifice as it
stands to-day is the work of all, even of the humblest, builders ; but its plan is tliat of
the architects who have modelled its main features, and the changes they have success-

HISTORICAL PREFACE. Xlli

ively wrought are the marks of progress. It is consequently possible, and it will be found
convenient, to subdivide the epochs named (excepting the first) into lesser natural inter-
vals of time, which may be called " periods," to each of which may attach the name of
the architect whose design is expressed most clearly. I recognize fifteen such periods, of
very unequal duration, to which specific dates may attach. Seven of these fall in the
last century ; eight in the three-quarters of the present century. We may pass them in
brief review.

The Archaic Epoch: to 1700.
Mere mention or fragmentary notice of North American birds may be traced back
to the middle of the sixteenth century ] but, up to the eighteenth, no book entirely and
exclusively devoted to the subject had appeared. The Turkey and the Humming-bird
were among the earHest to appear in print ; the latter forms the subject of the earliest
paper I have found, exclusively and formally treating of any North American bird as
such, and this was not until 1693, when Hamersly described the " American Toraineius,"
as it was called. One of the largest, as well as the smallest of our birds, — the turkey,
early came in for a share of attention. The germs of the modern " faunal list," — that is
to say, notes upon the birds of some particular region or locality, — appeared early in the
seventeenth century, and continued throughout ; but only as incidental and very slight
features of books published by colonists, adventurers, and missionaries, in their several
interests, — unless Hernandez's famous "Thesaurus " be brought into the present connec-
tion. Among such books containing bird-matter may be noted Smith's " Virginia," 1612;
Hamor's "Virginia," 1615 ; Whitbourne's "Newfoundland," 1620 ; Higginson's "New
England," 1630; Morton's "New English Canaan," 1632; Wood's "New England's
Prospect," 1634; Sagard Theodat's "Voyage," 1632; Josselyn's "New England's
Earities," 1672 ; — and so on, with a few more, — sometimes mere paragraphs, some-
times a page or a formal chapter, — but scarcely anything to be now considered except in
a spirit of curiosity.

The Pre-Lixn/ean Epoch : 1700-1758.
(1700-1730.)

The Lawsonian Period. — It may be a Incus a non to call this the " Lawsonian "
period ; but a name is needed for the portion of this epoch prior to Catesby, during which
no other name is so prominent as that of John Lawson, Gentleman, Surveyor-General of
North Carolina, whose "' Description and Natural History " of that country contains one
of the most considerable faunal lists of our birds which appeared before 1730, and went
through many editions, — the last of these being published at Raleigh, in 1860. The
several early editions devote some fifteen or twenty pages to birds, — an amount aug-
mented considerably when Brickell appropriated the work in 1737. The Baron de la
Hontan did similar service to Canadian birds in his "Voyages," 1793; but, on the
whole, this period is scarcely more than archaic.

(1730-1748.)
The Cateshian Period. — This conij^rises the time wlien Mark Catesby's great work
was appearing by instalments. " The Natural History of Carolina, Florida," etc., is the

xiv HISTORICAL PREFACE.

first really great work to come under our notice ; its influence was immediate, and is even
now felt. It is the " Audubon " of that time ; a folio in two volumes, dating respectively
1731 and 1743, with an appendix, 1748 ; passing to a second edition in 1754, to a
third in 1771, under the supervision of Edwards ; reproduced in Germany, in " Selig-
mann's Sammlung," 1 749-76. It was published in parts, the date of the first of which
I believe to have been 1730, though it may have been a little earlier. Volume I, contain-
ino- the birds, appears to have been issued in five parts, and was made up in 1731 ; it consists
of a hundred colored plates of birds, with as many leaves of text ; a few more birds are
given in the appendix, raising the number to 113. These illustrations are recognizable
almost without exception ; most of the species are for the first time described and figured ;
they furnish the basis of many subsequently named in the Linnfean system ; the work
was eventually provided by Edwards with a Linnsean concordance or index ; and alto-
gether it is not easy to overestimate the significance of the Catesbian period, due to this
one work ; for no other book requires or indeed deserves to be mentioned in the same
connection, though a few contributions, of somewhat "archaic" character, were made by
various writers.

(1748-1758.)
The Edwardsian Period. — This bridges the interval between Catesby and the estab-
lishment of the binomial nomenclature, and finishes the Pre-Linnsean epoch. No great
name of exclusive pertinence to Xorth American ornithology appears in this decade.
But the great naturalist whose name is inseparably associated with that of Catesby had
begun in 1741 the " Natural History of Uncommon Birds," which he completed in four
parts or volumes, in 1751, and in which the North American element is conspicuous.
This work contains two hundred and ten colored plates, with accompanying text, forming
a treatise which easily ranks among the half-dozen greatest works of the kind of the Pre-
Linnsean epoch, and passed through several editions in difi"erent languages. Its impress
upon American ornithology of the time is second only to that made by Catesby's, of
which it was the natural sequence, if not consequence It bore similarly upon birds soon
to be described in binomial terms, and was shortly followed by the not less famous
"Gleanings of Natural History," 1758-64, a work of precisely the same character, and in
fact a continuation of the former. Edwards also made some of our birds the subject of
special papers before the Philosophical Society, as those of 1755 and 1758 upon the
Euff"ed Grouse and the Phalarope. It may be noted here that one of the few special papers
upon any American bird which Linnaeus published appeared in this period, he having in
1750 first described the Louisiana Nonpareil (Passerina ciris). This period also saw the
publication of part of the original Swedish edition of Peter Kalm's "Travels," 1753-61,
which went through numerous editions in difierent languages. Kalm was a correspondent
of Linnseus ; the genus of plants, Kalmia, commemorates his name ; his work contains
accounts of many of our birds, some of them the bases of Linnsean species ; and he also
published, in 1759, a special paper upon the Wild Pigeon. As in the Catesbian period,
various lesser contributions were made, but none requiring comment. Tlius Lawson,
as representing the continuation of a preceding epoch, and the associated names of
Catesby and Edwards in the present one, have carried us past the middle of the last
century.

HISTORICAL PREFACE.

The PosT-LixNJiAN Epoch: 1758-1800.
(1758-1766.)

The Linnoean Period. — Au interregnum here, during which not a notable work or
worker appears in North American ornithology itself. But events elsewhere occurred,
the reflex action of which upon our theme is simply incalculable, fully requiring the
recognition of this period. The dates, 1758-1766, are respectively those of the appear-
ance of the tenth and of the twelth edition of the " Systema Naturae " of Linnaeus. In
the former the illustrious Swede first formally and consistently applied his system of
nomenclature to all birds known to him; the latter is his completed system, as it finally
left his hands ; and from tlien to now, zoologists and especially ornithologists have dis-
puted whether 1758 or 1766 should be taken as the starting-point of zoological nomen-
clature. In ornithology, the matter is still at issue between the American and the
British schools. However this may result, the fact remains that during this "Linnsean
period," 1758 to 1766, we have the origin of all the tenable specific names of those of
our birds which were known to Linnaeus ; the gathering up and methodical digestion
and systematic arrangement of all that had gone before. Let this scant decade stand, —
mute in America, but eloquent in Sweden, and since applauded to the echo of the world.

Nor is this all. The year 1760 saw the famous " Ornithologia " of Mathurin Jacques
Brisson (born April 20, 1725 — died June 23, 1806), in six portly quartos with 261 folded
plates, and elaborate descriptions in Latin and French of hundreds of birds, a fair pro-
portion of which are North American. Many are described for the first time, though
unfortunately not in the binomial nomenclature. The work holds permanent place;
and most of the original descriptions of Brisson's are among the surest bases of Linnseau
species.

(1766-1785.)

The Forsterian Period. — Nearly twenty years have now elapsed with so little in-
cident that two brochures determine the complexion of this period. John Reinhold
Forster was a learned and able man, whose connection with North American ornithology
is interesting. In 1771 he published a tract, now very scarce and of no consequence
whatever, entitled "A Catalogue of the Animals of North America." But it was the
first attempt to do anything of the sort, — in short, the first thing of its kind. It gives
.'502 birds, neither described nor even named scientifically. But that was a large num-
ber of North American birds to even mention in those days, — more than Wilson gave
in 1814. Forster followed up this exploit in 1772 with an interesting and valuable
account of 58 birds from Hudson's Bay, occupying some fifty pages of the "Philosophical
Transactions." Several of these birds were new to science, and were formally named, —
such as our White-throated Sparrow, Black-poll Warbler, Hudsonian Titmouse, and
Eskimo Curlew. Aside from its intrinsic merit, this paper is notable as the first formal
treatise exclusively devoted to a collection of North American birds sent abroad. The
period is otherwise marked by the publication in 1780 of Fabricius' " Fauna Grocnlandica,"
in which some 50 birds of Greerdand receive attention ; and especially by the appearance
of a great statesman and one of the Presidents of the United States in the rule of orni-
thologist, Thomas Jefl"erson's " Notes on the State of Virginia " having been first pri-

XVI HISTOBICAL PEE FACE

vately printed in Paris in 1782, though the authorized pubHcation was not till 1787.
It contains a list of 77 birds of Virginia, fortified with references to Catesby, Linnajus,
and Brisson, as the author's authorities. There were many editions, one dating 1853,

The long publication in France of one of the monumental works on general orni-
thology coincides very nearly with this period. I refer of course to Buifon and his
collaborators. The " Histoire Naturelle des Oiseaux," by Buifon and Montbeillard, dates
in its original edition 1770-1783, being in nine quarto volumes with 264 plain plates.
It forms a part of the gi-and set of volumes dating 1749-1804 in their original editions.
With the nine bird- volumes are associated the magnificent series of colored plates known
as the "Planches Enluminees," published in 42 fascicles from 1765 to 1781. The
plates are 1008 in number, of which 973 represent birds.

(1785-1791.)

The Pennantian Period. — A great landmark — one of the most conspicuous of the
last century — was set up with the appearance in 1785 of the second volume of Thomas
Pennant's " Arctic Zoology." The whole work, in three quarto volumes with many
plates, 1784-1787, was "designed as a sketch of the Zoology of North America."
In this year, also, John Latham completed the third volume (or sixth part) of his
" General Synopsis of Birds." These two great works have much in common, in so far
as a more restricted treatise can be compared with a more comprehensive one ; and in
the history of our subject the names of Latham and Pennant are linked as closely as
those of Catesby and Edwards. The parallel may be drawn still further ; for neither
Pennant nor Latham (up to the date in mention) used binomial names ; their species
had consequently no standing; but they furnished to Gmelin in 1788 the same bases
of formally-named species of the thirteenth edition of the " Systema Naturae," that
Catesby and Edwards liad afforded Linnaeus in 1758 and 1766. Pennant treated up-
wards of 500 nominal species of North American Birds. The events at large of this brief
but important period were the progress of Latham's Supplement to his Synopsis, the first
volume of which appeared in 1787, though the second was not completed till 1801 ;
the appearance in 1790 of Latham's " Index Ornithologicus," in which his birds receive
Latin names in due form; and the publication in 1788 of the thirteenth edition of the
*' Systema Naturae," as just said.

We are so accustomed to see "Linn." and "Gm." after the names of our longest-
known birds that we almost unconsciously acquire the notion that Linnaeus and Gmelin
were great discoverers or describers of birds in those days. But the men who made
North American ornithology what it was during the last century were Catesby,
Edwards, Forster, Pennant, Latham, and Bartram. For " the illustrious Swede " \vas in
this case little more than a methodical cataloguer, or systematic indexer ; while his editor,
Gmelin, was merely an industrious, indiscriminate compiler and transcriber. Neither of
these men discovered anything to speak of in this connection.

(1791-1800.)

The Bartramian Period. — William Bartram's figure in the events we are sketching
is a notable one, — rather more on account of his bearing upon Wilson's subsequent ca-
reer than of liis own actual achievements. Wilson is often called the " father of Amcri-

HISTORICAL PREFACE. xvii

<;an ornithology ; " if this designation be apt, then Bartram may be styled its godfather.
Few are fully aware how much Wilson owed to Bartram, his " guide, philosopher, and
friend," who published in 1791 his "Travels through North and South Carolina," con-
taining much ornithological matter that was novel and valuable, including a formal
catalogue of the birds of the Eastern United States, in which many species are named
as new. I have always contended that those of his names which are identitiable are
available, though Bartram frequently lapsed from strict binomial propriety ; and the
question furnishes a bone of contention to this day. Many birds wijich Wilson first
fully described and figured were really named by Bartram, and several of the latter's
designations were simply adopted by Wilson, who, in relation to Bartram, is as the
broader and clearer stream to its principal tributary affluent. The notable " Travels,"
freighted with its unpretending yet almost portentous bird-matter, went through several
■editions and at least two translations ; and I consider it the starting-point of a distinctively
American school of ornithology.

We have seen, in several earlier periods, that men's names appear in pairs, if not
also as mates. Thus, Catesby and Edwards ; Linnseus and Gmelin ; Pennant and
Latham ; and, perhaps, Buflfon and Brisson. The Bartramian alter ego is not Wilson,
but Barton, whose "Fragments of the Natural History of Pennsylvania," 1799, closed
the period which Bartram had opened, and with it the century also. Benjamin Smith
Barton's tract, a folio now very scarce, is doubly a " fragment," being at once a work
never finished, and very imperfect as far as it went ; but it is one of the most notable
special treatises of the last century, and I think the first book published in this country
that is entirely devoted to ornithology. But its author's laurels must rest mainly upon
this count, for its influence or impression upon the course of events is scarcely to be rec-
ognized, — is incomparably less than that made by Bartram's "Travels," and by his
mentorship of Wilson.

By the side of Bartram and Barton stand several lesser figures in the picture of this
period. Jeremy Belknap treated the birds of New Hampshire in his "■ History " of that
state (1792). Samuel Williams did like service for those of Vermont in his "History"
(1794). Samuel Hearne, a pioneer ornithologist in the northerly parts of America, fore-
shadowed, as it were, the much later "Fauna Boreali- Americana " in the narrative of liis
journey from Hudson's Bay to the Northern Ocean — a stout quarto published in 1795.
Here a chapter of fifty pages is devoted to about as many species of birds ; and Hearne's
observations have a value which " time, the destroyer," has not yet wholly ettaced.

The W^ilsoman Epoch: 1800-1824.
(1800-1808.)

The Vieillotian Period. — As we round the turn of the century a great work occupies
the opening j'ears, before the appearance of Wilson, — a work by a foreigner, a French-
man, almost unknown to or ignored by his contemporaries in America, altliough he was
already the autlior of several illustrated works on ornithology when, in 1807, his " Histoire
Naturelle des Oiseaux de PAraerique Septentrionale " was completed in two large folio
volumes, containing more than a hundred engravings, with text relating to several hun-
<lred species of birds of North America and the West Indies ; many of them figured for

xviii HISTORICAL PREFACE.

the first time, or entirely new to science. This work, bearing much the same relation
to its times that Catesby's and Edwards' respectively did to theirs, is said to have been
published in twenty-two parts of six plates each, probably during several years ; but the
date of its inception I have never been able to ascertain. However this may be, Vieillot
alone and completely fills a period of eight years, during which no other notable or even
mentionable treatise upon North American birds saw the light. Vieillot's case is an
exceptional one. As the author of numerous splendidly illustrated works, all of which,
live; of a system of ornithology, most of the generic names contained in which are
ingrained in the science ; of very extensive encyclopsedic work in which hundreds of
species of birds receive new technical names : Vieillot has a fame which time rather
brightens than obscures. Yet it is to be feared that the world was unkind during his
lifetime. At Paris, he stood in the shadow of Cuvier's great name; Temminck assailed
him from Holland ; Avhile, as to his work upon our birds, many years passed before it
was appreciated or in any way adequately recognized. Thus, singularly, so great a work
as the "Histoire Naturelle" — one absolutely characteristic of a period — had no appre-
ciable effect upon the course of events till long after the times that saw its birth, when
Cassin, Baird, and others brought Vieillot into proper perspective. There is so little
trace of Vieillot during the Wilsonian and Audubonian epochs, that his " Birds of North
America " may almost be said to have slept for half a century. But to-day, the solitary
figure of the Vieillotian period stands out in bold relief.

(1808-1824.)

The Wilsonian Period. — The " Paisley weaver ; " the "Scotch pedler;" the "melan-
choly poet-naturalist ;" the "father of American ornithology," — strange indeed are the
guises of genius, yet stranger its disguises in the epithets by which we attempt to label
and pigeon-hole that thing which has no name but its own, no place but its own. Alex-
ander Wilson had genius, and not much of anything else — very little learning, scarcely
any money, not many friends, and a paltry share of " the world's regard " while he lived..
But genius brings a message which men must hear, and never tire of hearing; it is
the word that comes when the passion that conceives is wedded with the patience that
achieves. Wilson was a poet by nature, a naturalist by force of circumstances, an Ameri-
can ornithologist by mere accident, — that is, if anything can be accidental in the life of
a man of genius. As a poet, he missed greatness by those limitations of passion which
seem so sad and so unaccountable ; as the naturalist, he achieved it by the patience that,
knew no limitation till death interposed. As between the man and his works, the very
touchstone of genius is there ; for the man was greater than all his works are. Genius,
may do that which satisfies all men, but never that which satisfies itself ; for its ins])ira-
tion is infinite and divine, its accomplishment finite and human. Such is the penalty
of its possession.

Wilson made, of course, the epoch in which his work appeared, and I cannot restrict
the Wilsonian period otherwise than by giving to Vieillot his own. The period of Wil-
son's actual authorship was brief; it began in September, 1808, when the first volume of
the " American Ornithology" appeared, and was cut short by death before the work was
finished. Wilson, having been born July 6, 1766, and come to America in 1794, died
August 23, 1813, when his seventh volume was finished ; the eightli and ninth being

HISTORICAL PREFACE. xix

completed in 1814 by his friend and editor, George Ord. But from this time to 1824,
when Bonaparte began to write, the reigning work was still Wilson's, nothing appearing
during these years to alter the complexion of American ornithology appreciably. Wil-
son's name overshadows nearly the whole epoch, — not that others were not then great,
but that he was so much greater. This author treated about 280 species, giving fiiithful
descriptions of all, and colored illustrations of most of them. There are numerous
editions of his work, of which the principal are Ord's, 1828-29, in three volumes ;
Jameson's, 1831, in four; Jardine's, 1832, in three; and Brewer's, 1840, in one; all
of these, excepting of course the first one, containing Bonaparte's " American Orni-
thology " and other matter foreign to the original " Wilson." In 1814, just as " Wilson"
was finished, appeared the history of the memorable expedition under Lewis and Clarke
— an expedition which furnished some material to Wilson himself, as witness Lewis'
Woodpecker, Clarke's Crow, and the " Louisiana " Tanager ; and more to Ord, who con-
tributed to the second edition of " Guthrie's Geography " an article upon ornithology.
Ord's prominence in this science, howeA^er, rests mainly upon his connection with Wilson's-
work, as already noted. Near the close of the Wilsonian period, Thomas Say gave us
important notices of Western birds, upon the basis of material acquired through Long's-
Expedition to the Rocky Mountains, the account of which appeared in 1823. In this-
work, Say described sundry species of birds new to science ; but he was rather an ento-
mologist than an ornithologist, and his imprint lapon our subject is scarcely to be found
outside the volume just named. A note<i — some might say rather notorious — character-
appeared upon the scene during this period, in the person of C. S. Rafinesque, who seems
to have been a genius, but one so awry that it is difficult to do aught else than mis-
understand him, unless we confess that we scarcely understand him at all. In the
elegant vernacular of the present day he would be called a crank ; but I presume that
term means that kind of genius which fails of interpretation ; for an unsuccessful genius
is a crank, and a successful crank is a genius. For the rest, the Wilsonian period was
marked by great activity in Arctic exploration, in connection with the ornithological
results of which appear prominently the names of William E. Leach and Edward
Sabine.

As illustrating the relation between Wilson and Bartram, which I have already
pointedly mentioned, I may quote a few lines from Ord's "Life of Wilson."^

> " His school-house and residence being but a short flistance from Bartram's Botanic Garden, situated on
the west banl< of the Schuylkill : a sequestered spot, possessing attractions of no ordinary kind ; an acquaintance-
was soon contracted with that venerable naturalist, Mr. William Bartram, which grew into an uncommon friend-
ship, and continued without the least abatement until severed by death. Here it was that Wilson found him-
self translated, if we may so speak, into a new existence. He had long been a lover of the works of Nature, aud
had derived more happiness from the contemplation of her simple beauties, than from any other source of gratifi-
cation. But he hail hitherto been a mere novice ; he was now about to receive instructions from one whom the
e.\i>eriences of along life, spent in travel and rural retireni'nt, had rendered qualified to teach. Jlr. Bartram
soon perceived the bent of his friend's mind, and its congeniality to his own; and took every pains to encourage
him in a study, which, while it expands the faculties, anil purifies the heart, insensibly leads to the contemplation
of the glorious Author of Nature himself. From his youth Wilson had been an observer of the manners of birds;
and since his arrival in America he had found them objects of uncommon interest; but he had not yet viewed
them with the eye of a naturalist."

This was about 1800 — rather a little later. Wilson's " novitiate " was the Vieillotian period, almost exactly.
Bartram survived till July 22, 1823, his eighty-fourth year; the date of his death thus coinciding very nearly with
the close of the Wilsonian epoch and period.

HISTORICAL PREFACE.

The Audubonian Epoch : 1824-1853.
(1824-1831.)

The Bonapartian Period. — A princely person, destined to die one of the most
famous of modern naturalists — Charles Lucien Bonaparte, early conceived and executed
the plan of continuing Wilson's work in similar style, if not in the same spirit. He
began by publishing a series of " Observations on the Nomenclature of Wilson's Orni-
thology," in the "Journal" of the Philadelphia Academy, 1824-25, republished in an
octavo volume, 1826. This valuable critical commentarj'- introduced a new feature, —
decided changes in nomenclature resulting from the sifting and rectification of synonymy.
It is here that questions of synonymy — to-day the bane and drudgery of the working
naturalist — first acquire prominence in the history of our special subject. There had
been very little of it before, and Wilson himself, the least " bookish " of men, gave it
scarcely any attention. Bonaparte also in 1825 added several species to our fauna upon
material collected in Florida by the now venerable Titian R. Peale, — whose honored
name is thus the first of those of men still living to appear in these annals. Bonaparte's
"American Ornithology," uniform with "Wilson," and generally incorporated therewith
in subsequent editions, as a continuation of Wilson's work, was originally published in
four large quarto volumes, running 1825-33. The year 1827, in the midst of this work
■of Bonaparte's, was a notable one in several particulars. Bonaparte himself was very busy,
producing a " Catalogue of the Birds of the United States," which, with a " Supplement,"
raised the number of species to 366, and of genera to 83 ; nearly a hundred species
having been thus become known to us since Ord laid aside the pen that Wilson had
dropped. William Swainson the same year described a number of new Mexican species
and genera, many of which come also into the " North American " fiiuna. But the most
notable event of the year was the appearance of the first five parts of Audubon's elephant
folio plates. In 1828-29, as may also be noted, Ord brought out his three-vol. 8vo
edition of Wilson. In 1828, Bonaparte returned to the charge of systematically cata-
loguing the birds of North America, giving now 382 species ; and about this time he
also produced a comparative list of the birds of Rome and Philadelphia. His main
work having been completed in 1833, as just said, Bonaparte continued his labors with
a " Geographical and Comparative List of the Birds of Europe and North America,"
published in London in 1838. This brochure gives 503 European and 471 American
.species. The celebrated zoologist wrote until 1857, but his connection with North
American birds was only incidental after 1838. The period here assigned him, 1824-
1831, may seem too short: but this was the opening of the Audubonian epoch — a
period of brilliant inception, and one in which events that were soon to mature their
splendid fruit came crowding fast ; so that room must be made at once for others who
were early in the present epoch.

(1831-1832.)
The Swahisonio-Richardsonian Period. — The " Fauna Boreali-Americana," the
ornithological volume of which was published in 1831, made an impression so indelible
that a period, albeit a brief one, must be put here. The technic of this celebrated

HISTOmCAL PREFACE. xxi

treatise, more valuable for its descriptions of new species and genera than for its methods
of classification, was by William Swaiuson, as were the elegant and accurate colored
plates ; the biographical matter, by Dr. (later Sir) John Richardson, increased our knowl-
edge of the life-history of the northerly birds so largely, that it became a fountain of
facts to be drawn upon by nearly every writer of prominence from that day to this.
Each of the distinguished authors had previously appeared in connection with our birds,
— Swainson as above said; Eichardson in 1825, in the appendix to Captain Parry's
^' Journah" The influence of the work on the whole cannot be well overstated.

Two events, besides the appearance of the "Fauna," mark the year 1831. One of
these is the publication of the first volume of Audubon's " Ornithological Biography,"
being the beginning of the text belonging to his great folio plates. The other is the
completion of the bird-volumes of Peter Pallas' famous "Zoographia Rosso- Asiatica,"
one of the most important contributions ever made to our subject, treating so largely
as it does of the birds of the region now called Alaska. The same year saw also the
Jameson edition of " Wilson and Bonaparte."

. (1833- 1834.)
The NuttaUian Period. — Thomas ^^uttall (born 1786 — died 1859) was rather botanist
than ornithologist ; but the travels of this distinguished English- American naturalist
made him the personal acquaintance of many of our birds, his love for which bore fruit
in his " Manual of the Ornithology of the United States and Canada," of which the first
volume appeared in 1832, the second in 1834. The work is notable as the first "hand-
book " of the subject ; it possesses an agreeable flavor, and I think was the first formal
treatise, excepting Wilson's, to pass to a second edition, as it did in 1840. Nuttall's
name is permanent in our annals ; and many years after he wrote, the honored title was
chosen to be borne by the first distinctively ornithological association of this country, —
the " Nuttall Ornithological Club," founded at Cambridge in 1873, and still flourishing.

(1834-1853.)
The Auduhonian Period. — Meanwhile, tlie incomparable work of Audubon —
" the greatest monument erected by art to nature " — was steadily progressing. The
splendid genius of the man, surmounting every difficulty and discouragement of the
author, had found and claimed its own. That which was always great had come to be
known and named as such, victorious in its impetuous yet long-enduring battle with
that curse of the world, — I mean the commonplace ; the commonplace, with which
genius never yet eff"ected a compromise, since genius is necessarily a perpetual menace
to mediocrity. Audubon and his work were one ; he lived in his work, and in his
work will live forever. When did Audubon die. We may read, indeed, " on Thurs-
day morning, January 27th, 1851, when a deep pallor overspread his countenance. . . .
Then, though he did not speak, his eyes, which had been so long nearly quenched,
rekindled with their former lustre and beauty ; his spirit seemed to be conscious tliat
it was approaching the Spirit-land." And yet there are those who are wont to exclaim,
"a aoul ! a soul! what is thatl" Happy indeed are they who are conscious of its
existence in themselves, and who can see it in others, every instant of time duiing their
lives !

xxii HISTORICAL PREFACE.

Audubon's first publication, perhaps, was in 1826, — an account of the Turkey-
buzzard, in the " Edinburgh New Philosophical Journal," and some other minor notices
came from his pen. But his energies were already focused on his life-work, with that
intense and perfect absorption of self which only genius knows. The first volume of
the magnificent folio plates, an hundred in number, appeared in 1827-30, in five parts ;
the second, in 1831-34, of the same number of plates; the third, in 1834-35, likewise
of the same number of plates ; the whole series of 4 volumes, 87 parts, 435 plates and
1065 figures of birds, being completed in June, 1839. jMeanwhile, the text of the
" Birds of America," entitled " Ornithological Biography," was steadily progressing, the
first of these royal octavo volumes appearing in 1831, the fifth and last in 1839. In
this latter year also appeared the " Synopsis of the Birds of North America," a single
handy volume serving as a systematic index to tlie whole work. In 1840-44 appeared
the standard octavo edition in seven volumes, with the plates reduced to octavo size
and the text rearranged systematically ; with a later and better nomenclature than that
given in the " Ornithological Biography," and some other changes, including an apjiendix
describing various new species procured during the author's journey to the upper Mis-
souri in 1843. In the original elephant folios there were 435 plates ; with the reduction
in size the number was raised to 483, by the separation of various figures which had
previously occupied the same plate ; and to these 1 7 new ones were added, making 500
in all. The species of birds treated in the " Synopsis " are 491 in number; those in the
work, as it finally left the illustrious author's hands, are 506 in number, nearly all of
them splendidly figured in colors.

In estimating the influence of so grand an accomplishment as this, we must not
leave Audubon " alone in his glory." Vivid and ardent was his genius ; matchless
he was both with pen and pencil in giving life and spirit to the beautiful objects he
delineated with passionate love ; but there Avas a strong and patient worker by his side, —
William Macgillivray, the countryman of Wilson, destined to lend the sturdj' Scotch
fibre to an Audubonian epoch. The brilliant French-American naturalist was little of
a "scientist." Of his work, the magical beauties of form and color and movement are
all his ; his page is redolent of Nature's fragrance : but Macgillivray's are the bone and
sinew, the hidden anatomical parts beneath the lovely face, the nomenclature, the
classification, — in a word, the technicalities of the science. Not that Macgillivray was
only a closet-naturalist ; he was a naturalist in the best .sense — in every sense — of the
word, and the " vital spark " is gleaming all through his works upon British birds,
showing his intense and loyal love of Nature in all her moods. But his place in the
Audubonian epoch in American ornithology is as has been said. The anatomical struc-
ture of American birds was first disclosed in any systematic manner, and to any consider-
able extent, by him. But only to-day, as it were, is this most important department
of ornithology assuming its rightfid place; and have \vc a modern Macgillivray to
come?

The sensuous beauty with which Audubon endowed the object of his life was long
in acquiring, with loss of no comeliness, the aspect more strict and severe of a later and
maturer epoch. Audubon was practically accomplished in 1844, the year which saw
his completed work ; but I note no special or material change in the course of events, —
no name of assured prominence, till 1853, when a new regime, that had meanwhile been

HISTORICAL PREFACE. xxiii

insensibly established, may be considered to have closed the Andubonian epoch, — the
Audubonian period thus extending through the nine years after 18-i4.

Whilp Audubon was finishing, several mentionable events occurred. I have already
spoken of Bonaparte's "List" of 1838, and of the 1840 edition of iS^uttall's "Manual."
Itichardson in 1837 contributed to the Eeport of the Sixth Meeting of the British Asso-
ciation for the Advancement of Science an elaborate and important " Report on North
American Zoology," relating in due part to birds. The distinguished Danish naturalist,
lieinhardt, wrote a special treatise on Greenland Birds, 1838; W. B. 0. Peabody one
upon the birds of Massachusetts, 1839. The important Zoology of Captain Beechey's
Voyage appeared in 1839, with the birds done by N. A. Vigors. ^laximilian. Prince
of Wied, published his " Reise in das Innere Nord-America " in 1839-41. Sixteen new
species of birds from Texas were described and figured by J. P. Giraud in 1841, and
tlie same author's useful "Birds of Long Island " was published in 1844. This year
saw also the bird-volume of De Kay's " Zoology of New York." The Rev. J. H. Linsley
furnished a notable catalogue of the birds of Connecticut in 1843. A name intimately
associated with Audubon's is that of J. K. Townsend, whose fruitful travels in the
West in company with Xuttall in 1834 resulted in adding to our list the many new
species which were published by Townsend himself in 1837, and also utilized by
Audubon. Townsend's "Narrative" of his journey appeared in 1839; and the same
year saw the beginning of a large work which Townsend projected, an " Ornithology
of the United States," which, however, progressed no further than one part or number,
being killed by the octavo edition of Audubon. In 1837 I first find the name of a
friend of Audubon which often appears in his work — that of Dr. Thomas Mayo Brewer,
who wrote on the birds of Massachusetts in this year, and in 1840 brought out his use-
ful and convenient duodecimo edition of "Wilson," in one volume. In 1844, Audubon's
last effectual year, the brothers Wm. M. and S. F. Baird appear, with a list of the birds
of Carlisle, Pennsylvania, having the year previously, in July, 1843, described two new
species of flycatchers, in the first paper ever written by the one who was to make the
succeeding epoch ; and it is significant that the last bird in Audubon's work was named
"Umberiza bairdii'"

Such were the aspects of the ornith<jlogical sky as the glorious Audul)oniau sun
approached and passed the zenith ; still more significant were the signs of the times as
that orb neared its golden western horizon. In tlie interval between 1844 and 1853,
Bairil and Brewer continued ; Cassin and Lawrence appeared in various papers ; and
round these names are grouped those of William Gambol, with new and interesting ob-
servations in the Southwest ; of George A. McCall and S. W. Woodhouse, in the same
connection ; and of Holboll in respect of Greenland birds. The most important con-
tributions were the several papers published by Gambel, in 1845 and subseipiently, and
Baird's Zoology of Stansbury's Expedition, 1852. But no period-marking, still less epoch-
making, work accelerated the setting of the sun of Audubon.

The B.virdiax Epoch: 1853-18—.
(1853-1858.)
The Caasinian Period. — AVhilc much material was accumulating from the explora-
tion of the great West, and the Bairdian period was rapidly nearing ; while Brewer and

XXIV HISTORICAL PREFACE.

Lawrence were continuing their studies and writings, and many other names ot lesser
note were contributing their several shares to the whole result : the figure of John Cassin
stands prominent. Cassin was born September 6, 1813, and passed from view in the
Quaker City, January 10, 1869. Numerous valuable papers and several important works
attest the assiduity and success with which he cultivated his favorite science to the end
of his days. I think that his first paper was the description of a new hawk, Cymindis
wllsoni, in 1847. Among his most important works are the Ornithology of the Wilkes
Exploring Expedition ; of the Perry Japan Expedition ; and of the Gilliss Expedition to
Chili. Aside from his strong cooperation with Baird in the great work to be presently
noticed, Cassin's seal is set upon North American ornithology in the beautiful book
begun in 1853 and finished in 1856, entitled "Illustrations of the Birds of California,"
etc., forming a large octavo volume, illustrated with fifty colored plates. His distinc-
tive place in ornithology is this : he was the only ornithologist this country has ever
produced who was as familiar with the birds of the Old World as with those of America.
Enjoying the facilities of the then unrivalled collection of the Philadelphia Academy, his
monographic studies were pushed into almost every group of birds of the world at
large. He was patient and laborious in the technic of his art, and full of book-learning
in the history of his subject ; with the result, that the Cassinian period, largely by the
work of Cassin himself, is marked by its " bookishness," by its breadth and scope in
ornithology at large, and by the first decided change since Audubon in the aspect of the
classification and nomenclature of the birds of our country. The Cassinian period marks
the culmination of the changes that wrought the fall of the Audubonian sceptre in all
that relates to the technicalities of the science, and consequently represents the beginning
of a new epoch.

The peers of this period are only three, — Lawrence, Brewer, and Baird. The for-
mer of these, already an eminent ornithologist, continued his rapidly succeeding papers
and was preparing his share of Baird's great work of 1858 ; though later his attention be-
came so closely fixed upon the birds of Central and South America, that a " Lawrencian
period " is to be found in the history of the ornithology of those countries rather than
of our own. Dr. Brewer's various articles appeared, and in 1857 this author, so well
known since Audubonian times, became the recognized leading oologist of North America,
through the publication of the first part of his " North American Oology " — a work unfor-
tunately suspended at this point. Though thus fragmentary, this quarto volume stands
as the first systematic treatise published in this country exclusively devoted to oology, and
giving a considerable series of colored illustrations of eggs. But a larger measure of the
world's regard became his much later, when, in 1874, appeared the great " History of North
American Birds," in three quarto volumes, all the biographical matter of which was by
him ; and, even as I write, two more volumes are about to appear, in which he has like
large share. Thus closely is the name of Brewer identified with the progress of the
science for nearly half a century, — from 1837 at least, to 1884, some four years after his
death, which occurred January 23, 1880. He was born in Boston, November 21, 1814.

Baird published little during the Cassinian period, being then intent upon the great
work about to appear ; but the number of workers in special fields attests the activity
of the times. S. W. Woodhouse published his completed observations upon the birds
of the Southwest in an illustrated octavo volume. Zadock Thompson's " Natural History

HISTORICAL PBEFACE. xxv

of Vermont" (1853) paid attention to the birds of that state. Birds of Wisconsin were
catalogued by P. R. Hoy ; of Ohio, by M. C. Eead and Robert Kennicott ; of Illinois, by
H. Pratten ; of Indiana, by R. Haymond ; of Massachusetts, by F. W. Putnam ; and
various other "faunal lists" and local annotations appeared, including President Jeffer-
son's Virginian ornithology, three-quarters of a century out of date. Dr. T. C. Henry
and Dr. A. L. Heermann wrote upon birds of the Southwest ; Reinhardt continued ob-
servations on Greenland birds; Dr. Henry Bryant published some valuable papers.
The since very eminent English ornithologist. Dr. P. L. Sclater, appeared during this
period in the present connection. The series of Pacific Railroad Reports, which were
to culminate, so far as ornithology is concerned, with the flimous ninth volume, were in
progress ; the sixth volume, containing Dr. J. S. Newberry's valuable and interesting
article upon the birds of California and Oregon, was published in 1857. Thus the
Cassinian period, besides being marked as already said in its broader features, was
notable in its details for the increase in the number of active workers, the extent and
variety of their independent observations, and the consequent accumulation of materials
ready to be worked into shape and system.

(18.'»8-18— .)
The Bairdiati Period. — The nintli volume of the " Pacific Railroad Reports " was an
epoch-making work, bearing the same relation to the times that the respective works
of Audubon and Wilson had sustained in former years. A great amount of material —
not all of which is more than hinted at in the foregoing paragraph — was at the service
of Professor Baird. In the hands of a less methodical, learned, and sagacious naturalist,
— of one less capable of elaborating and systematizing, — the result would probably have
been an ordinary official report upon the collections of birds secured during a few years
by the naturalists of the several explorations and surveys for a railroad route from the
Mississippi Valley to the Pacific Ocean. But having already transformed the eighth
volume of the Reports from such a " public document " into a systematic treatise on
North American Mammals, this author did the same for the birds of North America,
with the cooperation of Cassin and Lawrence. This portly quarto volume, published in
1858, represents the most important and decided single ste}) ever taken in North Ameri-
can ornithology in all that relates to the technicalities of the science. It effected a
revolution — one already imminent in consequence of Cassin's studies — in classification
and nomenclature, nearly all the names of our birds which had been in use in the
Audubonian epoch being changed in accordance with more modern usages in generic
and specific determinations. While the work contains no biographical matter, — nothing
of the life-history of birds, it gives lucid and exact diagnoses of the species and genera
known at the time, with copious synonymy and critical commentary. Various new
genera are characterized, and many new species are described. The influence of the
great work was immediate and widespread, and for many years the list of names of the
738 species contained in the work remained a standard of nomenclature from which
few desired or indeed were in position to deviate. The value of the work was further
enhanced in 1860 by its republication, identical in the text, but with the addition of an
atlas of 100 colored plates. Many of these plates were the same as those which had
appeared in other volumes of the Pacific Railroad Reports, notably the sixth and tenth

^vi HISTORICAL PREFACE.

and twelfth (the two latter volumes having appeared in 1859) ; others were those con-
tained in the " Mexican Boundary Eeport " which had appeared under Professor Baird's
editorship in 1859; about half of them were new.

I have spoken of the collaboration of Cassiu and Lawrence in the production of this
remarkable treatise. Considering it only as one of a series of reports upon the Pacific
Railroad Surveys, I should bring into somewhat of association the names of those who
contributed the ornithological portions of other volumes, as the fourth, sixth, tenth, and
twelfth, — Dr. C. B. E. Kennerly, Dr. J. S. Newberry, Dr. A. L. Heermann, Dr. J. G.
Cooper, and Dr. George Suckley. Nor should it be forgotten that numberless other col-
lectors and contributors, whose specimens are catalogued throughout the volume, brought
their hands to bear upon the erection of this grand monument.

But what of the genius of this work 1 — for I have not measured my words in speak-
ing of Wilson and Audubon. Can any Avork be really great without that mysterious
quality ? Certainly not. This work is instinct with the genius of the times that saw
its birth. This work is the spirit of an epoch embodied.

But here I must pause. My little sketch is brought upon the threshold of contem-
poraneous history, — to the beginning of the Bairdian period, of the close of which, as
of the duration of the Bairdian epoch, it is not for me to speak. When the splendid
achievements of American ornithologists during the past quarter of a century shall be
seen in historical perspective ; when the iM-illiant possibilities of our near future
shall have become the realizations of a past ; when the glowing names that went before
shall have fired another generation with a noble zeal, a lofty purpose, and a generous
emulation — then, perhaps, the thread here dropped may be recovered by another hand.

Yet a few words of Preface proper to the present work appear to be required. The
original edition of the " Key " was published in October, 1872, in an issue of about
2,200 copies. It was not stereotyped, and has been for some years entirely out of print.
It formed an imperial octavo of 361 pages, illustrated with 238 woodcuts in the text and
G steel plates. It was designed as a manual or text-book of North American Ornithology.
To meet this design, the Introduction consisted of a general account of the external
characters of birds, an explanation of the technical terms used in describing them, and
some exposition of the leading principles of classification and nomenclature. An artificial
" key " or analysis of the genera, constructed upon a plan found practically useful in
botany, but seldom applied to zoology, Avas introduced, to enable one who had some
knowledge of the technical terms to refer a given specimen to its proper genus. Tlien,
in the body of the work, each species was briefly described, with indication of its
geographical distribution and references to several leading authorities. The ftimilies and
orders of North American birds Avere also characterized, and a synopsis of the fossil birds
was appended. The work introduced many decided changes in classification and nomen-
clature which the then state of the science seemed to require, and systematically recog-
nized a large number of those subspecies or geographical races Avhich are now indicated
by the use of trinomial nomenclature, — a method noAV fully established and recognized
as peculiar to the " American school." The central idea of the treatise Avas to enable one

HI3T0BICAL PREFACE. xx\ii

to identify and label his specimens, though he might have no other knowledge of orni-
thology than such as the book itself gave him. I have been given to understand that
the work has answered its purpose, and has had a useful career ; and I have long since
been advised by my esteemed publishers that they were ready to issue a second edition,
wliich I have only just now found time to complete.

Tlie present edition of the " Key " is conceived in the same spirit as the former one,
to fulfil precisely the same purpose. But it has been entirely rewritten, and is quite
another work, though the old title is preserved. An author who practises his profession
diligently for twenty years is apt to find fault with his first book, and seek to remedy
its defects when opportunity offers. It has become quite clear to me, as it doubtless has
to others, that the old " Key " no longer turns in the lock with ease and precision, — not
tliat it has rusted from disuse, but that the more complicated mechanism of the lock re-
(juires its key to be refitted. During no previous period has our knowledge gone faster
or farther or more surely than in the interval between the two editions of the " Key ;"
there are scores of active and enthusiastic workers where there was one before ; scores of
important treatises have appeared ; the literature of the subject has been searched, sifted,
and systematized ; every corner of our country has been ransacked for birds, and the list
of our species and subspecies has reached about 900 by the many late discoveries ; acti\-e
interest in this branch of science is no longer confined to professed ornithologists ; the
importance of avian anatomy is as fully recognized as is the beauty of the life-history of
birds ; a distinctively American school of ornithology has grown up, introducing radical
changes in nomenclature and classification ; a quarterly journal of ornitliology has reached
its ninth annual volume ; an American Ornithologists' Union, the membership of which
extends to every quarter of the globe, has been founded.

So rapid, indeed, has been the progress, and so radical the changes wrought during the
last few years, that I doubt not this is the time to take our bearings anew and proceed
with judicious conservatism. jS^either do I doubt that just at this moment a new
departure is imminent, hinging upon the establishment of the American Ornithologists'
Union. It behooves us, therefore, to consider the question, not alone of where we stand
to-day, but also, of whither we are tending ; for we are certainly in a transition state, and
not even the near future can as yet be accurately forecast. The pliability and elasticity of
our trinomial system of nomenclature is very great ; and the method lends itself so readily to
tlie nicest discriminations of geographical races, — of the finest shades of variation in sub-
s[)ecific characters with climatic and other local conditions of environment, that our new toy
may not impossibly prove a dangerous instrument, if it be not used with judgment and cau-
tion. "VVe seem to be in danger of going too ftir, if not too fast, in this direction. It is not
to cry " halt ! " — for any advance is better than any standstill ; but it is to urge prudence,
caution, and circumspection, lest we be forced to recede ingloriously from an untenable
position, — that these words are penned, with a serious sense of their necessity.

In the present unsettled and perplexing state of our nomenclature, when appeal to
no " authority " or ultimate jurisiliction is possible, it is well to formulate ami codify
some canons of nomenclature by which to agree to abide. It is well to apply such
canons rigidly, with thorough sifting of synonymy, no matter what precedents be disre-
garded, what innovations be caused. It is well to use trinomials for subspecific deter-
minations. But it is not well to overdo tlie "variety business;" feather-splitting is

xxviii HISTORICAL FBEFACE.

no better than hairsplitting, and the liberties of the " American idea " must never
degenerate into license. Our action in this regard must stop short of a point where an
unfavorable reaction would be the inevitable result.

But I have digressed, in saying a warning word, from the point of the conclusion of
this Preface, which is simply to describe the new edition of the " Key " with special
reference to its difference from the former one. The classification and nomenclature are
materially different, in consequence of the progress of our knowledge during the past twelve
years. In 1873, a year after the old "Key" appeared, I published a " Check List," con-
formed exactly with the nomenclature of the "Key." In 1 882, when I had recast the "Key,"
I published a second edition of the " Check List " in conformity with the new " Key."
The present work, therefore, gives the same names, Avith scarcely any variance, though with
a few additional ones; the new " Check List" and the new " Key" being practically one
in all that pertains to nomenclature, and representing a particular phase of the subject.
The numbering of the species, also, corresponds Avith that in the " Check List."

Part I. of the present work consists of my "Field Ornithology," originally published as
a separate treatise in 1874, and now for the first time incorporated with the " Key." It is
reprinted nearly verbatim, but with some little amplification towards its end, and the intro-
duction of a few illustrations.

Part II. consists of the introductory matter of the old " Key," very greatly amplified.
In its present shape it is a sort of " Closet Ornithology " as distinguished from a " Field
Ornithology ; " being a treatise on the classification and structure of birds, explaining and
defining the technical terms used in ornithology, — in short, teaching the principles of
the science and illustrating their application.

Part III., the main body of the work, describes all the species and subspecies of
North American birds known to me, defines the genera, and characterizes the fainilies and
higher groups. The descriptions are much more elaborate than those of the old " Key,"
and I trust that such amplification has been made without loss of that sharpness of
definition which was the aim of the first edition. I have kept steadily in view my main
purpose — the ready identification of specimens. In many cases I have drawn upon my
other works — such as the "Birds of the Colorado Valley," the "Birds of the North-
west," and several of my Monographs, — for available ready-made descriptions ; but for
the most part the matter of this kind is new. Scarcely any of this part of the old
" Key " remains as it was. One improvement, I think, will be found in the removal of
the unnecessary references to authorities which closed the descriptive paragraphs of the
old " Key," and the utilization of the space thus gained by introducing terse biograph-
ical items, with special reference to nests and eggs, to song, flight, migrative and other
habits ; the technical descriptions of the species thus also epitomizing the life-history of
the birds. Geographical distribution is also more fully treated, as its importance de-
serves. More attention has been paid to the description of the plumages of females and
young birds. The specific names head their respective paragraphs, instead of tailing-oflf
the same ; they are also marked for accent, and their etymology is concisely stated, —
though for this matter the student should continue to use the new " Check List."

As regards the artificial " key to the genera " of the old work, it has proven that
too much was attempted in undertaking to carry the student at once to our refined mod-
ern genera. I have accordingly substituted artificial keys to the orders and families ;

HISTORICAL PREFACE. xxix

and throughout the work have analyzed species under their respective genera, these
under their subfamilies or families, and these again under their orders.

Part IV. consists of a Synopsis of the Fossil birds of North America, corresponding
to the appendix of the old " Key," but augmented by later discoveries. As before, this
part of the work has been revised by Professor 0. C. Marsh.

In the mechanical execution of the work, it has been my aim to compress the most
matter into the least space and leave no waste paper, in order to keep the treatise within
a single portable volume of convenient text-book size. I judge that there is nearly four
times as much matter in the present volume as there was in the original edition, the
page being much more closely printed, in a smaller type, and on thinner paper.

The old " Key " was insufficiently illustrated, and the average character of the cuts
was not entirely satisfactory. The present edition more than doubles the number of
illustrations. These are in part original, in part derived from various sources, all of
which are duly accredited in the text. The basis of the series is of course the cuts of the
former edition ; but many of these have been discarded and replaced by better ones.
About fifty of the most effective engravings were secured by my publishers from Brehm's
'■ Thierleben ; " nearly as many more are from Dixon's " Rural Bird Life," the American
edition of which is owned by the same firm. A few have been copied from D. G. Elliot's
" Birds of America," and a few others from the Proceedings of the Zoological Society of
London. About fifty of the prettiest ones were drawn by Mr. Edwin Sheppard and en-
graved by Mr. H. H. Nichols, expressly for this edition. Another set — how many there
are of them I do not know — -are from my own drawings, and have mostly appeared in
other of my publications. Several of Mr. R. Ridgway's drawings have been placed at my
service, through his kind attentions, and with Professor Baird's permission. I am in-
debted to Dr. E. AV. Shufeldt, XJ. S. A., for about thirty original anatomical drawings, as
well as for the colored frontispiece. Mr. Henry W. Elliott has kindly put at ray dis-
position several of his own artistic compositions, and I have received some very beautiful
engravings with the compliments of the Century Company of New York.

It is always agreeable to pay one's respects when due, and acknowledge assistance
and encouragement received in the preparation of one's books. Yet what an embarrass-
ment is mine now ! For there is no writer of repute on North American ornithology,
and scarcely a leader of the science at large, who has not assisted in the making of the
'• Key ; " and there is no reader of the work who has not encouraged its author to produce
this new edition. I am trebly in debt, — to thousands whose names I know not ; to
hundreds I only know by name and fame ; to scores of tried and trusted friends.

But let me say how much I am indebted to my compositors and proof-readers of the
Cniversity Press at Cambridge for the skill with which they have turned copy into print,
and to the proprietors of that justly-celebrated establishment for the pains they liave
taken in making the book an example of beautiful and accurate typography. Lot me
recognize here the liberality and generosity of my friend, Mr. Dana Estes, senior of the
linn of Estes and Lauriat, in permitting me to make the book to suit myself, and in
sparing no expense to which he might be put in consequence. Let me not forget that
during its preparation, as for many years previously, I have enjoyed to tlie fullest extent
the privileges of the Smithsonian Institution and the National Museum, through the
courtesy of Professor Baird, my access to the great collection of birds being always facili-

XXX HISTORICAL PREFACE.

tated by the attentions of Mr. Robert Ridgvvay, the Curator of Ornithology. And may
that less tangible but not less real source of strength which inheres in the sympathetic
and genial intercourse of a lifetime continue to be mine to draw upon, for all my works,
from my warm friend, J. A. Allen, the tirst President of the American Ornithologists'
Union.

"Prefaces," says some one, "ever were and still are but of two sorts; . . . still the
author keeps to his old and wonted method of prefacing, when, at the beginning of his
book he enters, either with a halter about his neck, submitting himself to his reader's
mercy whether he shall be hanged, or no ; or else in a huffing manner he appears with
the halter in his hand, and threatens to hang his reader, if he gives him not his good
word." But I wish neither to hang nor be hanged ; I wish the work were better than it
is, for my reader's sake ; I wish the author were better than he is, for my own sake ; and
above all I wish that every author may rise superior to his best work, to the end that the
man himself be judged above his largest achievements. It is well to do great things,
but better still to be great.

E. C.

Smithsonian Institution,
Washington, D. C, April, 1884.

CONTENTS TO VOLUME I.

PAGE

Dedication i

Publisher's Preface iii

Preface, Fourth Edition v

Preface, Third Edition yj[

Historical Preface xi

Contents xxxi

In Memoriam, Elliott Coues xxxv

PART L

FIELD ORNITHOLOGY.

§ 1. Implements for collecting, and tlieir use 1

2. Dogs 9

3. Various suggestions and directions for ticld-work 9

4. Hygiene of collectorship 19

5. Registration and labelling 21

6. Instruments, materials, and fixtures for pre[)ariiig birdskins 25

7. How to make a birdskin 28

8. Miscellaneous particulars 45

9. Collection of nests and eggs , 50

lO. Care of a collection 54,

PART II.

GENERAL ORNITHOLOGY.

§ 1. Definition of birds 59

'.2. Principles and practice of classification 65

3. Definitions and descriptions of tiie exterior parts of birds 81

a. Of the feathers, or i)luinage 81

b. The topography of birds 9()

1. Regions of the body 99

2. Of the members ; their parts and organs 105

i. The bill 105

ii. The wings Ill

iii. The tail 120

iv. The feet 124

xxxu CONTENTS.

PAGE

§4. All iutroductiou to the Anatomy of birds 139

a. Osteology : the osseous system, or skeleton 140

1. The spinal column 143

2. Thetliorax: ribs and sternum 148

3. The pectoral arch 151

4. The pelvic arch 153

5. The skull 155

b. Neurology: the nervous system ; organs of special senses 180

c. Myology: the muscular system 198

d. Angeiology : the vascular or circulatory systems 201

e. Pneumatology: the respiratory system 205

/. Splanchnology : the digestive system 215

ff. Oology: the uro-genital organs 221

5. Directions for using the artificial keys 233

Artificial Key to the Orders and Subordeus 236

Artificial Key to the Families 237

Tabular View of the Groups higher than Genera ........... 240

PART III.

SYSTEMATIC SYNOPSIS OF NORTH AMERICAN BIRDS.

Order PASSERES: Insessores, or Perchers Proper 244

Suborder ACROMYODI, POLYMODI, or OSCINES: Si.iging Birds 246

Family Turdid.e : Thrushes, etc 247

Subfamily Turdince: Typical Thrushes 248

^\x\iiwc\'\^ Myiadestinee : Fly-catching Thrushes ; Solitaires 259

Family Cinclid^ : Dippers 260

Family Sylviid.e : Old World Warblers, Kinglets, etc 261

Subfamily ;Sy<'m«^; Old World Warblers 261

Subfamily Rerjulirife: Kinglets 262

Subfamily Poli/optiliiue : Gnat-catchers 264

Family Cham.eid.e : Wren-tits 2()(j

Family Parid.e: Titmice, or Chickadees 267

Subfamily P«nW: True Titmice 267

Family Sittid.e: Nuthatches 276

Family Certhiid.e : Creepers 278

Subfamily Certhiin/p : Typical Creepers 279

Family Tkogi.odytid.e: Wrens; Thrashers, etc 280

Subfamily J//;;«V/^/'; Mockingbirds; Tiirashers 281

'$s\\\)'i'AW\'\s Trorjlodi/tinrp : Wrens 289

Family Motacillid.e: Wagtails and Pipits 300

Family Mmotiltid,e: American Warblers 304

Family CtEREiUDyK: Honey Creepers 346

Family Tanagrid.e: Tanagers 347

Family Hirundinid.e : Swallows 350

i

CONTENTS. xxxiii

PAGE

Pamily Ampelid.e: Chatterers 357

Subfamily Ampeli)i(e: Waxwings 358

Subfaniily Piilogonatinee : Flysnappers 360

Tamily ViREONiD.E : Vireos, or Greeulets 361

Fartiily Laniid^ : Shrikes 3()9

Subfamily LanivKP : True Shrikes 309

Tamily FiiiNGiLLiD^i: : Finches, etc 373

Family Icterid.e : American Starlings ; Blackbirds, etc 463

Subfamily ^^e/,?'//^,* ; Marsh Blackbirds 465

Suhhmilj Sfu>-Keliina : Meadow Starlings 471

Subfamily /6-/i?r«»^<» ; American Orioles ; Hang-nests 474

Subfamily Quiscaliiue : American Grackles 479

Family CoryiD/E : Crows, Jays, Pies, etc 484

Subfamily Corvina: Crows 485

Subfamily GarruUntB : Jays and Pies 492

Family Sturnid.e : Old World Starlings 502

Subfamily Shtrniiice : Typical Starlings 502

Family Alaudid.e : Larks 503

Suborder PASSERES MESSOMYODI, or CLAMATORES : Non-melodious or

Songless Passeres 509

Family Tyrannid.e : American Flycatchers 510

^\i\)hm\[)' Ti/rannime : True Tyrant Flycatchers 510

Family Cotingid^ : Cotingas 534

Subfamily Tili/riixp: Tityrines 534

6^,

^siciJ^^k^ J^w^^

J

IN MEMORIAM: ELLIOTT COUES.

Born Qth September, 1842. — Died 25th December, 1899.

IN the life of every nation, society, or individual, no matter how peaceful, pros-
perous, or happy the record of the past may have been, no matter how encour-
aging and bright the future may be for further advancement, increased progress
and greater achievements in the path that always leads onward and upward,
toward the ultimate fulfilment of the highest destiny that may be attained, in the
varying, shifting career that all must follow while accomplishing the pilgrimage of
earth, yet in the experience of all, even amidst the rush of a restless activity,
there comes a time to mourn. A time when the daily duties are temporarily neg-
lected or wholly laid aside, when the engrossing pursuits that occupy the thoughts
and call for the utmost energies of man's nature cease for the moment to interest
the mind, when the smile vanishes and joyous laughter no longer cheers the heart,
when the voice sinks to a whisper low and soft, as the sense of some irreparable
loss comes with stunning force to overwhelm the soul. To this Society, to all its
individual members, and to some of us in a peculiar and intimate relationship sucli
a time has surely come, for as we are gathered here to-day, one engaging presence,
one vitalizing force, one attractive personality, one brilliant mind is no longer in
our midst, to grace, strengthen, and assist us in our deliberations, and in the
accomplishment of duties that must be met. "Who shall measure the extent of the
loss sustained by various branches of scientific and historical research, by this and
kindred societies, by those of us who have parted from an intimate friend and
colleague of many vanished years, as well as the ^^ounger men just entering upon
tlie scientific field, in the recent death of our former President and late colleague,
Elliott Coues? No one occupied a more prominent position in our midst tiian he,
and no one held it by a stronger claim, founded on exceptional ability, in brilliant
work successfully accomplished.

On September 9th, 1842, in the town of Portsmouth, New Hampshire, Elliott
Coues was born, and as soon as he could exhiljit a preference for any object, his
taste for ornithology was manifested, and even when only able to toddle about the
nursery, a poster of one of the old-style menageries rendered him oblivious to all
other attractions and no book nor story interested him unless animals were their
subjects. So early did the tastes and preferences that were to be the chief con-
trolling influences of his life declare themselves. When he was eleven years of age
his father, Samuel P^lliott Coues, removed to Washington, in which city our late
colleague was destined to pass a large part of his life, and where some of his most

^ An address delivered at the Eighteenth Congress of the American Ornithologists' Union,
Cambridge, Mass., Nov. 13, 1900.

xxxvi IN MEMORIAM: ELLIOTT COUES.

Important works were to be written. For a time he attended Gonzaga College, a
Jesuit Institution, and where, to one of his ardent temperament, the gorgeous
ritual of the Romish church would be apt to make a deep impression ; but his was
to be an energetic life that demanded a wide field for its activity, and could not be
pent amid cloistered shades or cathedral aisles. In his early days he was rather
inclined to neglect the classics, replying once to a remonstrance of his father, " I
only want just enough of these things to facilitate my other work," but later he
appreciated the importance of a thorough knowledge of the ancient tongues and
they had no more earnest advocate than himself. At the age of seventeen he
entered Columbia College, now Columbian University, took his degree of A.B. in
1861, Honorary M.A. in 1862, became a Medical Cadet in 1862, M.D. in 18G3 and
Acting Assistant Surgeon, United States Army, in the same year, and Assistant
Surgeon in 1864. When he passed his examination for the United States Army
medical corps, he was obliged to tell them he was not of age, and he was appointed
a volunteer surgeon for one year before he conld receive his commission, and that
year he passed at Mount Pleasant Hospital near AYashington. For seventeen
3^ears he continued in the service of the United States, and was made a brevet
Captain, resigning in 1881 in order to devote himself entirely to his scientific and
literary pursuits.

During his army life he was stationed at various posts, mostly those situated in
the western part of the United States, and he was also attached to some of the
most important Government Surveys of the Territories and little known parts of
our country, such as the one under the command of Dr. F. V. Hayden, and that of
the Northern Boundary Commission which surveyed the forty-ninth parallel west-
ward from the Lake of the Woods. In these great expeditious he served as sur-
geon and naturalist, and gained in the field that intimate knowledge of our birds
and mammals which was to make him in the near future one of the most illustrious
naturalists of our country and of our time. He had now become so absorbed in
his scientific pursuits that the monotonous routine of an army post was most dis-
tasteful, and when he was detached from the surveying expeditions and ordered
back to his first station at Fort AVhipple, Arizona, he endeavored to obtain a dif-
ferent assignment, one more congenial to him and better adapted for his scientific
work, and when this proved impossible he resigned from the army and took up
his abode in Washington, where he resided until his .death.

Altliough he was a writer on many and various subjects, his first scientific work
was done in ornithology, and as early as 1861, when he was but nineteen years of
age, he made his debut as an author in a well-conceived and executed paper, that
would have been highly creditable to a far more experienced hand, entitled " A
Monograph of the Triugie of North America." In his scientific studies Coues was
fortunate in having for his mentor the late Professor Baird, and between them the
strongest friendship existed and which only terminated with the death of the
senior naturalist. From this period Coues's contributions to literary, scieutific, and
philosophic subjects never ceased, for his energies were unlimited and he became
one of the most prolific writers of our day. In 1869 he was elected Professor of
Zoology and Comparative Anatomy in Norwich University, Vermont, but the duties

TN MEMORIAM: ELLIOTT COUES. xxxvii

of army life prevented him from acceptinij; this position ; but after he retired from
tlie service of the United States he accepted the chair of anatomy at the National
INIedical College in the medical department of Columbian University, Washington,
where he lectured acceptably for ten years. lie was also one of the contributors
to the Century Dictionary, and had editorial charge of (leneral Zoology, Biolog}',
and Comparative Anatomy, and furnished some forty thousand words to tliis mon-
umental work as his share of the enterprise ; devoting to it the greater part of his
labor for seven years. Another immense undertaking to which he devoted some
years of painstaking work was a "Bibliography of Ornithology," certain instal-
ments of which alone have been published, the greater portion still remaining in
manuscript, lie also began a " History of North American Mammals," but
though considerable progress with it was accomplished nothing was ever published.

From 18G1 to 1881 he completed three hundred works and papers, the major
portion devoted to ornithology; and although he always kept up his interest in
that science and was more or less an active contributor to it all his life, his later
years were more particularly devoted to historical research. The titles to his
scientific writings of all kinds, minor papers, reviews, and special works, number
nearly one thousand, and he was the author or joint author of thirty-seven sepa-
rate volumes. The work by which he will probably be best known and remem-
bered, and which has had above all others the most important influence on orni-
thology in our own land, is his " Ke\' to North American Birds," a work tiiat in its
conception and the masterly manner in which it is carried out in all its details
stands as one of the best if not the best bird book ever written. His knowledge of
North American mammals was as extensive and intimate as was that of our birds,
and the " Fur Bearing Animals," published in 1877, as well as the Monographs on
the Muridie, Zapodidie, Saccomyida^, Haplodontia, and Geomyid}« in the " North
American Rodentia," also issued in 1877, bear ample witness to this fact. It is
impossible, however, in a comparatively brief address to enumerate the titles of
his works, and to this audience tliey would seem like twice-told tales, for with the
more important you are thorouglily familiar, and the minor ones are being con-
stantly met with and referred to by you in the pursuit of your investigations.

We know what he has done in Natural Sciences, and although he rests from his
labors, and the eloquent tongue is silent and the still more eloquent pen lies
motionless, never more to perpetuate the virile thoughts that struggled for expres-
sion in the active mind, yet his works remain and speak with no uncertain tones
for him. I would, however, pass from the consideration of him as an author and
facile writer, and present him to you as the man, as he really was, for although
many persons were acquainted with Cones few I believe really knew him. It is
now nearly forty years ago, when on a visit to Professor Baird in Washington,
one evening, in company with my old friend Dr. Gill, I first met Elliott Cones.
He was then in his teens, a student of medicine, frank, simple, honest, and confid-
ing, with a boy's generous impulses, and the glorious enthusiasm of the ornitholo-
gist manifest in speech and action. The friendship then formed continued without
a break or a hasty word ever having been exchanged with tongue or pen throughout
all the intervening years. And yet we thought very differently on many subjects;

xxxviii IN MEMORIAM: ELLIOTT COUES.

but such was our confidence in each other's honest intention and unreserved frank-
ness that we could, and did many times, argue on different sides, both orally and
in writing, with an energetic earnestness that would have been highly dangerous
to our continued friendship if we had not understood each other so well. And
first among his most eminent characteristics was his love of truth, and he was
constantly striving with all the force of his energetic nature to search it out and
take its teaching to himself wherever he might find it, careless where it might lead
him or what preconceived views or opinions it might overthrow or destroy. He
believed with Carlyle that " there is no reliance for this world or any other but
just the truth, there is no hope for the world but just so far as men find out and
believe the truth and match their own lives to it." It was therefore in his search
for truth and an attempt to apply the principles of physical science to psychical
research that in 1880 he became attiliated with the Theosophical Society of India
and was elected President of its American Board of Control, and was continued in
that office for several years. He was much interested in the subject and investi-
gated its principles and methods with his usual thoroughness, even visiting Europe
in company with Madame Blavatsky and other prominent members of the sect,
and his connection with this and kindred societies resulted in the production of
several publications such as " Biogen " and the "Daemon of Darwin." But the
knowledge that he gained of this interesting but peculiar doctrine was not of that
satisfying character as to cause him to hold fast to its tenets, nor to enable him to
retain his respect for its leaders, and although he gives no reasons for the action,
yet in the memorandum in which he records his election as President in 1885 and
his re-election in the following year, with characteristic frankness he states that he
was expelled from the Society in 1889. Those of us who have little sympathy
with the claims asserted by the disciples of Theosophy cannot but regai'd his
expulsion from the Society as having conferred a greater honor upon him than his
election to the Presidency, and can easily imagine the action he may have taken in
the Council to cause such a result after he finally satisfied himself that the doctrine
could not substantiate its claims. He detested shams of all kinds and hurled the
full force of his invective against those who had proved themselves unworthy or
who strove to appear entitled to more than was their due.

As a critic in certain lines he was unrivalled and exhibited the highest practice
of the art in his reviews, dwelling most upon what was meritorious in the treat-
ment of the subject before him, for he believed true criticism was to seek that
which was praiseworthy rather than something to condemn. But no one could be
more caustic in his treatment, nor wield a sharper weapon, when he found that
praise would be misapplied and it would be kinder to act as the skilful surgeon
does, create wounds in order that the patient's recovery might be more sure and
lasting. Rarely, however, for one who published so much, was he severe in his
writings, though none had the power to be more so ; but when, from whatever the
cause that influenced him, he permitted himself to indulge in phrases that would be
remembered and might possibly leave a sting, he set down " naught in malice,"
but employed a phraseology that he honestly believed was best suited to the case
in hand, and after some such severe articles had been issued, he has spoken to me

IN MEMORIAM: ELLIOTT COUES. XXXlx

in the kindest way of the author of the work or act he had so criticised or con-
demned, apparently entirely unconscious that it could possibly affect any friendly
relations or be the means of any estrangement. It was the sentiment advanced,
or the conclusion reached, that was the object of his attack, not the individual who
was the author. In all his critical reviews there is no thought of self, but only
desire to do justice to his subject and to its author, and if anything could be
charged against him on this point, it was an evident inclination always to find
something to praise.

In his scientific writings he was always extremely lucid and conservative in his
methods, and he had but little sympathy for tiie hair-splitting and microscopic
variations in the appearance of animals that is the joy and delight of some nat-
uralists in these later days. He was a scholar and knew his Greek and Latin ; and
with a scholar's instinct and abhorrence of incorrect phraseology, he strove with all
his might to inculcate not only in his own scientific writings but in those of others
the true principles of etymology and philology ; and both by tongue and pen, in
the keen analytical style of which he was an undisputed master, he strove with all
the force of his energetic personality against the unfortunate and mistaken doctrine
that the perpetuation of errors can ever be permissible, much less commendable.
He possessed a command of language gained by few, and the beauty of his style
and his felicity of expression has created numerous pen pictures of the habits and
appearances of our wild creatures that have never been excelled by any writer, if
indeed they have been equalled.

While a keen and just critic himself, he was very sensitive regarding the opinion
of others towards his own productions, and sought the approbation of those who
were bound closely to him either by earthly ties or an intimate friendship, or whose
knowledge of the subject under consideration caused their opinion to be of special
value. This extreme sensitiveness is best illustrated by an act committed in his
youthful days, when after having labored for several years upon a work on Ari-
zona, on reading his manuscript to one who, if not competent to judge of the
importance of his labors, he had the right to expect would exhibit sympathy for
his efforts, and who must at least have been impressed with its thoroughness and
beauty of diction, yet was only able to consider its value as a commercial asset,
and therefore commented upon it so unfavorably, and with such strength of
expression, that, utterly disheartened at the want of appreciation for that which
had been so long a labor of love and of which he was so proud of his ability to
produce, on the impulse of the moment he cast the "copy" into the fire, where it
was consumed, and then suffered a severe attack of illness in consequence of his
loss by his hasty act.

Of a most affectionate disposition, he sought and enjoyed the society of his
friends and those with sympathetic tastes ; and although he possessed strong con-
victions and firm opinions, yet no one more readily yielded to the views of another
whose opportunities to reach a correct decision had been greater than his own, and
this was always effected with a courtesy that caused his friendly opponent to regret
he could not himself yield and reverse their positions. He loved science and scien-
tific work, and scorned to employ his talents and his knowledge merely for financial

xl 7.V ME MORI AM: ELLIOTT COUES.

considerations; and although he conld command large sums for his labor, he pre-
ferred to devote himself to pure science, which, if less remunerative pecuniarily,
achieves a more lasting result and one of greater honor.

After all these years of scientific work, his thoughts and labors turned to a new
channel, that of historical research, and the last eight or ten years of his life were
devoted to editing the journals of the early explorers of our continent, and he made
many long and wearisome journeys over the various routes taken by these hardy
pioneers in order to familiarize himself with the country traversed and locate the
many places mentioned, but which had no designation on any published map. His
former army life and his great experience as a naturalist eminently fitted him for
this task, and probably no one could have proved himself so competent to fulfil
this duty. The first of these works was that of the Expedition of Lewis and
Clarke, which appeared in 1893, followed in 1895 by the Expedition of Zebulon
M. Pike. In 1897 came the Henry & Thompson Journals; in 1898 appeared the
Fowler Journal and the Narrative of Charles Larpentner, forty years a Fur Trader
on the Upper Missouri ; and during this year The Diary of Francisco Garces, on
the trail of a Spanish Pioneer : in all, fifteen volumes. All of these books bear the
impress of his most conscientious care and wonderful minuteness of annotation ;
and it is to Coues more than to any other that the original sources of the early
explorations of the western portion of our country, beyond the Mississippi, are
preserved.

It was during an arduous journey in New Mexico and Arizona in the summer
of 1899, undertaken, as he wrote me, as a " still hunt for old Spanish MSS.," and
to refresh his memory of the country described by Francisco Garces, and render
still more effective his editing of the Diary in his possession, that Coues's splendid
physique and robust health, that for so long seemed to defy fatigue and exposure,
gave way, and he was brought to Santa Fe in a rather critical condition, where for
a month he was very ill, but in September he came to Chicago. He seemed to be
getting better, and at my last interview with him, during which his condition was
freely discussed, although he fully appreciated the gravity of his case, yet he
expressed the hope, and perhaps he thought it was clearly among the possibilities,
that he might be present at the last meeting of this Society in Philadelphia. Re-
garding him, as I then did, as in a critical condition, I could not share this hope,
although I encouraged him in his belief, or what seemed to be his belief, for Coues
had been too long a skilled medical practitioner to try and deceive himself ; but
from his references to his attendant physician it was clearly apparent that he pre-
ferred to advance the opinion of his medical adviser, of whom he spoke in the
highest terms, rather than any of his own. He was greatly changed in appearance,
but the old fire and enthusiasm, that I had so often admired and not infrequently
contended with in friendly confiict during so many years, was not a whit abated,
and he spoke with all his old-time interest of the work he had himself in view and
that of others. But the voice was feeble and tlie frame was weak, and he was
filled with a restlessness that was foreign to him. But when I bade him an adieu,
which was to be our last on earth, he was cheerful and spoke hopefully of meeting
soon again. As you all know, his condition became more serious after he arrived

IN MEMORIAM: ELLIOTT COUES. xli

at his home in Washino[ton, and an expert examination at Johns Hopkins Hospital
in Baltimore gave but little hope for the preservation of his life. During these last
days I received a number of letters from him explaining frankly his condition and
how few were his chances for life, and just before submitting to the operation came
one virtually bidding me farewell and announcing the close of our correspondence,
that had extended over many years. On the 6th of December the operation was
performed, and for a short time there was a probability that his life would be pro-
longed ; but it was not to be, for he had finished his work and he was to rest from
his labors. Throughout his illness he exhibited the natural bravery of spirit habitual
to him ; not a murmur or complaint of the excessive and lasting pain, but gentle
and courteoush' appreciative of every attention, and at the last overcoming for an
instant the weakness that denoted the approach of that moment when his freed
spirit should depart and soar above all earthly things, he raised himself in his
bed, and with all the old-time vigor of voice exclaimed, " Welcome, oh, welcome,
beloved death ! " and sinking backwards on the pillow he was at rest. Nevermore
shall you welcome to your midst this courteous gentleman, who was the considerate
friend, the able counsellor, the chivalrous debater, the one most capable of leader-
ship, yet always willing to yield to another, the trained scientist, the accomplished
anatomist, the able naturalist, the conscientious historian. His was a life of intense
activity, and that which his hand found to do he did with all his might ; and of
none can it be more appropriately said, " Nihil tetigit quod non ornavit."

Cones, as may be readily supposed, was the recipient of many scientific honors,
and he was an Honorary or Active member of a very large number of societies, both
in this country and in Europe, and at the time of his election to our National
Academy he was, I believe, its youngest member. The list of scientific societies
with which he was connected numbers between fifty and sixty, far too many for
ine to attempt to give their titles at this time, yet none of them was so distinguished
but that it received as well as conferred an honor by having his name upon its rolls.
As a naturalist Coues will always hold the highest rank in the estimation of all who
are familiar with his works ; and in that galaxy of eminent names which sheds so
great a brilliancy on the scientific annals of our own land, none shall appear in the
years to come more lustrous than that of our late distinguished colleague and friend.
But the brilliant mind no longer teems with thoughts of earth, and the hand that
executed its commands lies motionless, and we, who are drawing near to that
shining portal through which he has so lately passed, and from whose farther side
no steps are ever retraced by any one of mortal birth, may never look upon his like
again, whose pen was the " pen of a ready writer," fit instrument to convey and
render permanent the eloquence of thought, beauty of diction, and facility of expres-
tion of Nature's illustrious disciple and interpreter.

D. G. ELLIOT, F. R. S. E., etc.

Part I.

FIELD ORNITHOLOGY:

MANUAL OF INSTRUCTION FOR COLLECTING, PREPARENG.
AND PRESERVING BIRDS.

FIELD ORNITHOLOGY must lead the way to Systematic and Descriptive Ornithology.
The study of Birds in the field is an indispensable prerequisite to their study in the
library and the museum. Directions for observing and collecting birds, for preparing and pre-
serving them as objects of natural history, will greatly help the student on his way to become
a successful Ornithologist, if he will faithfully and intelligently observe them. It is believed
that the practical Instructions which the author has to give will, if ft)llowed out, enable any
one who has the least taste or aptitude for such pursuits to become proficient in the necessary
qualifications of the good working ornithologist. These instructions are derived from the
writer's own experience, reaching in time over twenty years, and extending in area over large
portions of North America. Having made in the field the personal acquaintance of most
species of North American birds, and having shot and skinned with his own hands several
thousand specimens, he may reasonably venture to speak with confidence, if not also with
authority, respecting methods of study and manipulation. Feeling so much at liome in the
field, with his gun for destroying birds, and his instruments fi)r preserving their skins, he
wishes to put the most inexperienced student equally at ease ; and therefore begs to lay
formality aside, that he may address the reader familiarly, as if chatting with a friend on a
subject of mutual interest.

§1. — IMPLEMENTS FOR COLLECTING, AND THEIR USE.

The Double-barrelled Shot Gun is your main reliance. Under some circumstances
you may trap or snare birds, catcli tliem with bird-lime, or use other devices ; but such cases
are exceptions to the rule that you will shoot birds, and for this purpose no weapon compares
with the one just mentioned. The soul of good advice respecting the selection of a gun is,
Get the best one you can afford to buy ; go the full length of your purse in the matters of
material and workmanship. To say nothing of tlie prime requisite, safety, or of the next most
desirable quality, efficiency, the durability of a high-priced gun makes it cheapest in the end.

1

2 FIELD OEXITHOLOGY.

Style of finish is obviously of little consequence, except as an index of other qualities; for
inferior guns rarely, if ever, display the exquisite appointments that mark a first-rate arm.
There is reaUy so httle choice among good guns that nothing need be said on this score ; you
cannot miss it if you pay enough to any reputable maker or reliable dealer. But collecting
is a specialty, and some guns are better adapted than others to your particular purpose, which
is the destruction, as a rule, of small birds, at moderate range, with the least possible injury
to their plumage. Probably three-fourths or more of the birds of a miscellaneous collection
average under the size of a pigeon, and were shot within thirty yards. A heavi/ gun is there-
fore unnecessary, in fact ineligible, the extra weight being useless. You will find a gun of
7i to 8 pounds weight most suitable. For similar reasons the bore should be small ; I prefer
14 gauge, and should not think of going over 12. To judge from the best sporting authorhies,
length of barrel is of less consequence than many suppose; for myself, I incline to a rather
long barrel, — one nearer 33 than 28 inches, — believing that such a barrel 7nay throw shot
better ; but I am not sure that this is even the rule, while it is well known that several
circumstances of loading, besides some almost inappreciable difi'ereuces in the way barrels are
bored, wiU cause guns apparently exactly alike to throw shot differently. Length and crook
of stock should of course be adapted to your figure, — a gun may be made to fit you, as well
as a coat. For wild-fowl shooting, and on some other special occasions, a heavier and
altogether more powerful gun wiU be preferable.

Breech-Loader vs. Muzzle-Loader, a case long argued, may be considered settled in
favor of the former. Provided the mechanism and workmanship of the breech be what they
should, there are no valid objections to offset obvious advantages, some of which are these :
ease and rapidity of loading, and consequently delivery of shots in quick succession ; facility of
cleaning; compactness and portability of ammunition ; readiness with which different-sized shot
may be used. This last is highly important to the collector, who never knows the moment
he may wish to fire at a very different bird from such as he has already loaded for. The
muzzle-loader must always contain the fine shot with which nine-tenths of your specimens
wUl be secured ; if in both barrels, you cannot deal with a hawk or other large bird with
reasonable prospects of success ; if in only one barrel, the other being more heavily charged,
you are crippled to the extent of exactly one-half of your resources for ordinary shooting.
Whereas, with the breech-loader you will habitually use mustard-seed in both barrels, and yet
can slip in a different shell in time to seize most opportunities requiring large shot. This con-
sideration alone should d(>cide the case. But, moreover, the time spent in the field in loading
an ordinary gun is no small item ; while cartridges may be charged in your leisure at home.
This should become the natural occupation of your spare moments. No time is really gained;
you simply change to advantage the time consumed. Metal shells, charged with loose ammu-
nition, and susceptible of being reloaded many times, may be used instead of any special fixed
ammunition which, once exhausted in a distant place (and circumstances may upset the best
calculations on that score), leaves the gun useless. On charging the shells mark the number
of the shot used on the outside wad ; or better, use colored wads, say plain white for dust shot,
and red, blue, and green for certain other sizes. If going far away, take as many shells as you
think can possibly be wanted — and a few more.

Experience, however, will soon teach you to prefer paper cartridges fir breech-loaders.
They may of course be loaded according to circumstances, with the same facility as metal
shells, and even reloaded if desired. It is a good deal of trouble to take care of metal shells,
to prevent loss, keep them clean, and avoid bending or indenting ; while there is often a prac-
tical difficulty in recapping — at least with the common styles that take a special primer.
Those fitted with a screw top holding a nipple for ordinary caps are expensive. Paper cart-

IMPLEMENTS FOB COLLECTING, AND THEIR USE. 3

ridges come already capped, so that this bother is avoided, as it is not ordinarily worth while
to reload them. They are made of different colors, distinguishing various sizes of shot used
without employ of colored wads otherwise required. They may be taken into the field empty
and loaded on occasion to suit ; but it is better to pay a trifle extra to have them loaded at the
shop. In such case, about four-fifths of the stock should contain mustard-seed, nearly all the
rest about No. 7, a very few being reserved for about No. 4. Cost of ammunition is hardly
appreciably increased ; its weight is put in the most conveniently portable shape ; the whole
apparatus for carrying it, and loading the shells, is dispensed with ; much time is saved, the
entire drudgery (excepting gun-cleaning) of collecting being avoided. I was prepared in this
way during the summer of 1873 for the heaviest work I ever succeeded in accomplishing during
the same length of time. In June, when birds were plentiful, I easily averaged fifteen skins
a day, and occasionally made twice as many. As items serving to base calculations, I may
mention that in four months I used about two thousand cartridges, loaded, at $42 per M.,
with seven-eighths of an ounce of shot and two and three-fourths drachms of powder ; only
about three hundred were charged with shot larger than mustard-seed. In estimating the size
of a collection that may result from use of a given number of cartridges, it may not be safe for
even a good shot to count on much more than half as many specimens as cartridges. The
number is practically reduced by the following steps : — Cartridges lost or damaged, or orig-
iually defective ; shots missed ; birds killed or wounded, not recovered ; specimens secured
unfit for preservation, or not preserved for any reason ; specimens accidentally spoilt in stuffing,
or subsequently damaged so as to be not worth keeping ; and finally, use of cartridges to
supply the table.

Other Weapons, etc. — An ordinary single-barrel gun will of course answer; but is a

sorry makeshift, for it is sometimes so poorly constructed as to be unsafe, and can at best be
only just half as eff'ective. This remark does not apply to any of the fine single-barrelled breech-
loaders now made. You will find them very efi"ective weapons, and they are not at all expen-
sive. An arm now much used by collectors is a kind of breech-loading pistol, with or without
a skeleton gun-stock to screw into the handle, and taking a particular style of metal cartridge,
charged with a few grains of powder, or with nothing but the fulminate. They are very light,
very cheap, safe and easy to work, and astonishingly effective up to twenty or thirty yards;
making probably tlie best ''second choice" after the matchless double-barrelled breech-
loader itself. The cane-gun should be mentioned in this connection. It is a single-barrel,
lacquered to look like a stick, with a brass stopper at the muzzle to imitate a ferule, counter-
sunk hammer and trigger, and either a shnple curved handle, or a light gunstock-shaped piece
that screws in. The affair is easily mistaken for a cane. Some have acquired considerable
dexterity in its use ; my own experience with it is very limited and unsatisfactory ; the handle
always hit me in the face, and I generally missed my bird. It has only two recommendations.
If you approve of shooting on Sunday and yet scruple to shock popular prejudice, you can slip
out of town unsuspected. If you are shooting where the law forbids destruction of small birds,
— a wise and good law that you may sometimes be inclined to defy, — artfully careless handling
of the deceitful implement may prevent arrest and fine. A blow-gun is sometimes used. It is
a long slender tube of wood, metal, or glass, through which clay -balls, tiny arrows, etc., are
projected by force of the breath. It must be quite an art to use such a weapon successfully,
and its employment is necessarily exceptional. Some uncivilized tribes are said to possess
marvellous skill in the use of long bamboo blow-guns ; and sucli people are often valuable
employes of the collector. I have had no experience with the noiseless air-gun, which is, in
effect, a modified blow-gun, compressed air being the explosive power. Nor can I say much
of various methods of trapping birds that may be practised. On these points I must leave you
to your own devices, with the remark that horse-hair snares, set over a nest, are often of great

4 FIELD OEXITHOLOGY.

serdc* in securing the parent of eggs that might otherwise remain unidentified. I have no
practical knowledge of hxrd-lime ; I l>elieve it is seldom used in this country. A method of
netting birds alive, which I have tried, is both easy and successfo]. A net of fine green silk,
some 8 or 10 feet square, is stretched i>erpendicularly across a narrow part of one of the tiny
brooks overgrown with briers and shrubbery, that intersect many of our meadows. Retreating
to a distance, the collector beats along the shrubbery making all the noise he can, urging on
the little bu-ds tiU they reach the almost invisible net and become entangled in trying to fly
tiirough. I have in this manner taken a dozen sparrows and the like at one ''drive." But
the gun can rarely be laid aside for this or any similar device.

Ammunition.— The best povcder is that combining strength and cleanliness in the highest
compatible degree. In some brands too much of the latter is sacrificed to the former. Other
things being equal, a rather coarse powder is preferable, since its slower action tends to throw
Bhot closer. Some numbers are said to be " too quick '' for fine breech-loaders. Inexperienced
sportsmen and collectors almost invariably use too coarse slwt. When unnecessarily large, two
evils result : the number of pellets in a load is decreased, the chances of killing being corre-
spondingly lessened; and the plumage is unnecessarily injured, either by direct mutilation,
or by subsequent bleeding through large holes. As already hinted, shot cannot be too fine for
your routine collecting. Use ''mustard-seed," or " dust-shot," as it is variously called; it is
smaller than any of the sizes usually numbered. As the very finest can only be procured in
cities, provide yourself liberally on lea^-ing any centre of civilization for even a country village,
to sav nothing of remote regions. A small bird that would have been torn to pieces by a few
large pellets, may be riddled with mustard-seed and yet be preservable ; moreover, there is, as
a rale, little or no bleeding from such minute holes, which close up by the elasticity of the
tissues involved. It is astonishing what large birds may be brought down with the tiny pellets.
I have killed hawks with such shot, knocked over a wood ibis at forty yards and once shot
a wolf dead with No. 10, though I am bound to say the animal was within a few feet of me.
After dust-shot, and the nearest number or two. No. 8 or 7 will be found most useful. Water-
fowl, thick-skinned sea-birds, like bxius, cormorants, and pelicans, and a few of the largest land
birds, require heavier shot. I have had no experience with the substitution of fine gravel or
sand, much less water, as a projectile : besides shot I never fired anything at a bird except
my ramrod, on one or two occasions, when I never afterwards saw either the bird or the stick.
The comparatively trivial matter of caps will repay attention. Breech-loaders not discharged
with a pin take a particular style of short cap called a " primer; " for other guns the best
water-proof lined caps will prevent annoyance and disappjintment in wet weather, and may
save you an eye, for they only sjAit when exploded ; whereas, the flimsy cheap ones — that
" G D" trash, for instance, S'jld in the comer grocerj- at ten cents a hundred — usually fly
to pieces. Cut felt vcadu are the only suitable article. Ely's "chemically prepared " wadding
is the y>est. It Ls well, when using plain wads, occasionally to drive a greased one through
the barreL Since you may sometimes run out of wads through an unexpected c<jntiugency,
always keep a wad-cutter to fit your gun. You can make sen-iceable M-ads of pastelx»ard, but
they are inferior to felt. Cut them on the flat sawn end of a stick of firewood : the side of a
plank does not do very well. Use a wooden mallet, instead of a hammer or hatchet, and so
save your cutter. Soft paper is next best after wads ; I have never used rags, c<jtton or tow,
fearing these tinder-like substances might leave a spark in the barrels. Crumbled leaves or
grass will answer at a pinch. I liave ot^casionally, in a de6i>erate hurry, loaded and killed
without any wadding.

Other Equipments. — (a.) For tlui Gun. A gun-case will come cheap in the end,
especially if you travel much. The usual box. divided into compartments, and well lined,

IMPLEJIEXTS FOR COLLECTING, AXD THEIR USE. 5

is the best, though the full length leather or india-rubber cloth case answers very weU. The
box should contain a small kit of tools, such as mainspring-vice, nipple- wrench, screw-driver,
etc. A stout hard-wood cleaning njd, with wormer, wiU be required. It is always safe to
have parts of the gun-lock, especially mainspring, in duplicate. For muzzle-loaders extra
nipples and extra ramrod heads and tips often come into use. For breech-loaders the appara-
tus for charging the shells is so useful as to be practically indispensable, (p.) For ammuni-
tion. Metal shells or paper cartridges may be carried loose in the large lower coat pocket,
or in a leather satchel. There is said to be a chance of explosion by some unlucky blow, when
they are so carried, but I never knew of an instance. Another way is to fix them separately
in a row in snug loops of soft leather sewn continuously along a stout waist-belt ; or in several
such horizontal rows on a square piece of thick leather, to be slung by a strap over the shoul-
der. But better than anything else is a stout linen vest, similarly furnished with loops holding
each a cartridge ; this distributes the weight so perfectly, that the usual *' forty rounds " may
be carried without feeling it. The appliances for k)Ose ammunition are almost endlessly
varied, so every one may consult his taste or convenience. But now that everybody uses the
breech-loader, shot-pouches and powder-flasks are among the things that were, (c.) For
specitnens. You must always carry paper in which to wrap up your specimens, as more par-
ticularly directed beyond. Nothing is better for this purpose than writing-paper ; "rejected"
or otherwise useless MSS. may thus be utilized. The ordinary game bag, with leather back
and network front, answers very weU ; but a light basket, fitting the body, such as is used
by fishermen, is the best thing to carry specimens in. Avoid putting specimens into pockets,
unless you have your coat-tail largely excavated : crowding them into a close pocket, where
they press each other, and receive warmth fi-om the person, will injure them. It is always
well to take a little cotton into the field, to plug up shot-holes, mouth, nostiils, or vent, imme-
diately, if required, (rf.) For Yourself. The indications to be fulfilled in your clothiug are
these : Adaptability to the weather ; and since a shooting-coat is not ct)nveniently changed,
while an overcoat is ordinarily ineligible, the requirement is best met by different underclothes.
Easy fit, allowing perfect freedom of muscular action, especially of the arms. Strength of
fabric, to resist briers and stand wear ; velveteen and corduroy are excellent materials. Sub-
dued color, to render you as inconspicuous as possible, and to show ilirt the least. Multiplicity
of pockets — a perfect shooting-coat is an ingenious system of hanging pouches about the
person. Broad-soled, low-heeled boots or shoes, giving a firm tread even when wet. Close-
fitting cap with prominent visor, or low soft felt hat, rather broad brimmed. Let india-rubber
goods alone : the field is no place for a sweat-bath.

Qualifications for Success. — "With the outfit just indicated you command all the required
appliances that you can biii/, and the rest lies with yourself. Success hangs upon your own
exertions ; upon your energy, industry, and perseverance : your knowledge and skill ; your
zeal and enthusiasm, in collecting birds, much as in other afiairs of life. But that your
eflbrts — maiden attempts they must once have been if they be not such now — may be directed
to best advantage, further instructions may not be imacceptable.

To Carry a Gun without peril to human life or limb is the « 6 c of its use. " There's
death in the pot."' Such constant care is required to avoid accidents that no man can give it
by coutiuual voluntary efforts : safe carriage of the gun must become an unconscious habit, fixed
as the movements of an automaton. The golden rule and whole secret is: the mtczle must
tiecer sweep the horizon : accidental discharge should send the shot into the ground before your
feet, or away up in the air. There are several safe and easy ways of holding a piece : they
will be employed by tunis to relieve particular muscles when fotigued. 1. Hold it in the
hollow of the arm (preferably the left, as you can recover to aim in less time than from the

6 FIELD OBNITHOLOGY.

rit^ht), across the front of your person, the hand on the grip, the muzzle elevated about 45".
2. Hang it by the trigger guard hitched over the forearm brought round to the breast, the
stock passing behind the upper arm, the muzzle pointing to the ground a pace or so in front
of you. 3. Shoulder it, the hand on the grip or heel-plate, the muzzle pointing upward
at least 45°. 4. Shoulder it reversed, the hand grasping the barrels about their middle, the
muzzle pointing forward and downward : this is perfectly admissible, but is the most awkward
position of all to recover from. Alioays carry a loaded gun at half-cock, unless you are about
to shoot. Most good guns are now fitted with rebounding locks, an arraugemeut by which
the hammer is thrown back to half-cock as soon as the blow is delivered on the pin. This
admirable device is a great safe-guard, and is particularly eligible for breech-loaders, as the
barrels may be unlocked and relocked without touching the hammers. Unless the lock fail,
accidental discharge is impossible, except under these circumstances : a, a direct blow on the
nipple or pin ; b, catching of both hammer and trigger simultaneously, drawing back of
the former and its release whilst the trigger is stiU held, — the chances against which are
simply incalculable. FuU-cock, ticklish as it seems, is safer than no-cock, when a tap on
the hammer or even the heel-plate, or a slight catch and release of the hammer, may cause
discharge. Never let the muzzle of a loaded gun point toward your own person for a
single instant. Get your gun over fences, or into boats or carriages, before you get over
or in yourself, or at any rate no later. Remove caps or cartridges on entering a house.
Never aim a gun, loaded or not, at any object, unless you mean to press the trigger. Never
put a loaded gun away long enough to forget whether it is loaded or not ; never leave a
loaded gun to be found by others under circumstances reasonably presupposing it to be un-
loaded. Never put a gun where it can be knocked down by a dog or a child. Never imagine
that there can be any excuse for leaving a breech-loader loaded under any circumstances.
Never forget that the idiots who kill people because they " did n't know it was loaded," are
perennial. Never forget that though a gunning accident may be sometimes interpreted (from
a certain standpoint) as a " dispensation of Providence," such dispensations happen oftenest
to the careless.

To Clean a Gun properly requires some knowledge, more good temper, and most
"elbow-grease;" it is dirty, disagreeable, inevitable work, which laziness, business, tiredness,
indifference, and good taste wUl by turns tempt you to slurk. After a Imnt you are tired, have
your clothes to change, a meal to eat, a lot of birds to skin, a journal to write up. If you
"sub-let" the contract the chances are it is but half fulfilled ; serve yourself, if you want to
be well served. If you cannot find time for a regular cleaning, an intolerably foul gun may be
made to do another day's work by swabbing for a few moments with a wet (not dripping) rag,
and then with an oiled one. For the full wash use cold water first ; it loosens dirt better than
hot water. Set the barrels in a pail of water ; wrap the end of the cleaning rod with tow or
cloth, and pump away till your arms ache. Change the rag or tow, and the water too, tiU
they both stay clean for all the swabbing you can do. FiU the barrels with boiling water till
they arc well heated ; pour it out, wipe as dry as possible inside and out, and set them by a
fire. Finish with a light oiling, inside and out ; touch up all the metal about the stock, and
polish the wood-work. Do not remove the locks oftener than is necessary ; every time they
are taken out, something of the exquisite fitting that marks a good gun may be lost ; as long
as they work smoothly take it for granted they are all right. The same direction applies to
nipples. To keep a gun well, under long disuse, it should have had a particularly thorough
cleaning; the chambers should be packed with greasy tow; greased wads may be rammed at
intervals along the barrels ; or the barrels may be filled with melted tallow. Neat's-foot is
recommended as the best easily procured oil ; porpoise-oil which is, I believe, used by watch-
makers, is tlie very best; the oil made for use on sewiug-machines is excellent; "olive" oiJ

IMPLEMENTS FOR COLLECTING, AND THEIR USE. 7

(made of lard) for table use answers the purpose. The quality of any oil may be improved by
putting in it a few tacks, or scraps of zinc, — the oil expends its rusty capacity in oxidizing the
metal. Inferior oils get ''sticky." One of the best preventives of rust is mercurial ("blue")
ointment : it may be freely used. Kerosene will remove rust ; but use it sparingly for it
" eats " sound metal too.

To Load a Gun eflfectively requires something more than knowledge of the facts that the
powder should go in before the shot, and that each should have a wad a-top. Probably the
most nearly universal fault is use of too much shot for the amount of powder ; and the next,
too much of both. The rule is hulk for hulk of powder and shot. If not exactly this, then
rather less shot than powder. It is absurd to suppose, as some persons who ought to know
better do, that the more shot in a gun the greater the chances of killing. The projectile
force of a charge cannot possibly be greater than the vis inertice of the gun as held by the
shooter. The explosion is manifested in all directions, and blows the shot one way simply
and only because it has no other escape. If the resistance in front of the powder were
greater than elsewhere, the shot would not budge, but the gun would fly backward, or
burst. This always reminds me of Lord Dundreary's famous conundrum — Why does a dog
wag his tail ? Because he is bigger than his tail ; otherwise the tail would wag him. A
gun shoots shot because the gun is the heavier; otherwise the shot would shoot the gun.
Every unnecessary pellet is a pellet against you, not against the game. The experienced sports
man uses about one-third less shot than the tyro, with proportionally better result, other things
being equal. As to powder, moreover, a gun can only burn just so much, and every grain
blown out unburnt is wasted if nothing more. No express directions for absolute weight or
measures of either powder or shot can be given ; in fact, different guns take as their most
effective charge such a variable amount of ammunition, that one of the first things you have to
learn about your own arm is, its normal charge-gauge. Find out, by assiduous target practice,
what absolute amounts (and to a slight degree, what relative proportion) of powder and shot
are required to shoot the furthest and distribute the pellets most evenly. This practice, further-
more, will acquaint you with the gun's capacities in every respect. You should learn exactly
what it will and what it will not do, so as to feel perfect confidence in your arm within a cer-
tain range, and to waste no shots in attempting miracles. Immoderate recoil is a pretty sure
sign that the gun was overloaded, or otherwise wrongly charged ; and all force of recoil is sub-
tracted from the impulse of the shot. It is useless to ram powder very hard ; tw(} or three
smart taps of the rod will suffice, and more will not increase the explosive force. On the shot
the wad should simply be pressed close enough to fix the pellets immovably. All these direc-
tions apply to the charging of metal or paper cartridges as well as to loading by the muzzle.
The latter operation is so rarely required, now that guns of every grade break at the breach,
tliat advice on this score may seem quite anachronistic ; nevertheless, I let what I said in the
original edition stand. When about to recharge one baiTel see that the hammer of the other
stands at half-cock. Do not drop the ramrod into the other barrel, for a stray shot might
impact between the swell of the head and the gun and make it difficult to withdraw the rod.
During the whole operation keep the muzzle as far from your person as you conveniently can.
Never force home a wad with the flat of your hand over the end of the rod, but hold the rod
between your fingers and thumb ; in case of premature explosion, it will make just the difi'er-
ence of lacerated finger tips, or a blown-up hand. Never look into a loaded gun-barrel ; you
might as wisely put your head into a lion's mouth to see what the animal had for dinner.
After a miss-fire hold the gun up a few moments and be slow to reload ; the fire sometimes
"hangs" for several seconds. Finally, let me strongly impress upon you the expediency of
light loading in your routine collecting. Three-fourths of your shots need not bring into action
tlie gun's full powers of execution. You will shoot more birds under than over 30 yaids ; not

8 FIELD ORNITHOLOGY.

a few you must secure, if at all, at 10 or 15 yards ; and your object is always to kill them with
the least possible damage to the plumage. I have, on particular occasions, loaded even down
to ioz. of shot and l^dr. of powder. There is astonishing force compressed in a few grains of
powder ; an astonishing number of pellets in the smallest load of mustard-seed. If you can
load so nicely as to just drive the shot into a bird and not through it and out again, do so, and
save half the holes in the skin.

To Shoot successfully is an art which may be acquired by practice, and can be learned
only in the school of experience. No general directions will make you a good shot, any more
than a proficient in music or painting. To teU you that in order to hit a bird you must point
the gun at it and press the trigger, is like saying that to play on the fiddle you must shove
the bow across the strings with one hand while you finger them with the other; in either
case the result is the same, a noise — mx et prceterea nihil — but neither music nor game.
Nor is it possible for every one to become an artist in gunnery ; a "crack shot," like a poet, is
born, not made. For myself I make no pretensions to genius in that direction ; for although
I generally make fair bags, and have destroyed many thousand birds in my time, this is rather
owing to some familiarity I have gained with the habits of birds, and a certain knack, acquired
by long practice, of picking them out of trees and bushes, than to skilful shooting from the
sportsman's standpoint ; in fact, if I cut down two or three birds on the wing without a miss
1 am working quite up to my average in that line. But any one not a purblind "butter fin-
gers," can become a reasonably fair shot by practice, and do good collecting. It is not so hard,
after all, to sight a gun correctly on an immovable object, and collecting difi'ers from sporting
proper in this, that comparatively few birds are shot on the wing. But I do not mean to
imply that it requires less skill to collect successfully than to secure game ; on the contrary, it
is finer shooting, I think, to drop a warbler skipping about a tree-top than to stop a quail at
full speed ; while hitting a sparrow that springs from the grass at one's feet to flicker in sight
a few seconds and disappear is the most difficult of all shooting. Besides, a crack shot, as
understood, aims unconsciously, with mechanical accuracy and certitude of hitting ; he simply
wills, and the trained muscles obey without his superintendence, just as the fingers form letters
with the pen iu writing ; whereas the collector must usually supervise his muscles all through
the act and see that they mind. In spite of the proportion of snap shots of all sorts you will
have to take, your collecting shots, as a rule, are made with deliberate aim. There is much
the same diff'erence, on the whole, between the sportsman's work and the collector's, that there
is between shot-gun and rifle practice, collecting being comparable to the latter. It is gener-
ally understood that the acme of skill with the two weapons is an incompatibility ; and, cer-
tainly, the best shot is not always the best collector, even supposing the two to be on a par iu
their knowledge of birds' haunts and habits. Still a hopelessly poor shot can only attain fair
results by extraordinary diligence and perseverance. Certain principles of shooting may per-
haps be reduced to words. Aim deliberately directly at an immovable object at fair range.
Hold over a motionless object when far off, as the tra.jectory of the shot curves downward.
Hold a little to one side of a stationary object when very near, preferring rather to take the
chances of missing it with the peripheral pellets, than of hopelessly mutilating it with the
main body of the charge. Fire at the first fair aim, without trying to improve what is good
enough already. Never "pull" the trigger, but ^^ress it. Bear the shock of discharge with-
out flinching. In shooting on the wing, fire the instant the but of the gun taps your shoulder ;
you will miss at first, but by and by the birds will begin to drop, and you will have laid the
foundation of good shooting, the knack of "covering" a bird unconsciously. The habit of
"poking" after a bird on the wing is an almost incurable vice, and may keep you a poor
shot all your life. (Th(! collector's frequent necessity of poking after little birds in the bush
is just what so often hinders him from acquiring brilliant execution.) Aim ahead of a

SUGGESTIONS AND DIRECTIONS FOR FIELD-WORK. 9

flying bird — the calculation to be made varies, according to the distance of the object,
its velocity, its course and the wind, from a few inches to several feet ; practice will finally
render it intuitive.

§2. — DOGS.

A Good Dog is one of the most faithful, respectful, aff'ectionate and sensible of brutes ;
deference to such rare qualities demands a chapter, however brief. A trained dog is the indis-
pensable servant of the sportsman in his pursuit of most kinds of game ; but I trust I am guilty
of no discourtesy to the noble annual, when I say that he is a luxury rather than a necessity to
the collector — a pleasant companion, who knows almost everything except how to talk, who
converses with his eyes and ears and tail, shares comforts and discomforts with equal alacrity,
and occasionally makes himself useful. So far as a collector's work tallies with that of a
sportsman, the dog is equally useful to both ; but finding and telling of game aside, your dog's
services are restricted to companionship and retrieving. He may, indeed, flush many sorts of
birds for you ; but he does it, if at all, at random, while capering about ; for the brute intellect
is limited after all, and cannot comprehend a naturalist. The best trained setter or pointer
that ever marked a quail could not be made to understand what you arc about, and it would
ruin him for sporting purposes if he did. Take a well-bred dog out with you, and the chances
are he will soon trot home in disgust at your performances with jack-sparrows and tomtits. It
implies such a lowering and perversion of a good dog's instincts to make him really a useful
servant of yours, that I am half inclined to say nothing about retrieving, and tell you to make
a companion of your dog, or let him alone. I was followed for several years by " the best dog
I ever saw" (every one's gun, dog, and child is the best ever seen), and a first-rate retriever;
yet I always preferred, when practicable, to pick up my own birds, rather than let a delicate
plumage into a dog's mouth, and scolded away the poor brute so often, that she very properly
returned the compliment, in the end, by retrieving just when she felt like it. However, we
remained the best of friends. Any good setter, pointer, or spaniel, and some kinds of curs,
may be trained to retrieve. The great point is to teach them not to " mouth " a bird ; it may
be accomplished by sticking pins in the ball with which their early lessons are taught. Such
dogs are particularly useful in bringing birds out of the water, and in searching for them when
lost. One point in training should never be neglected: teach a dog what ''to heel" means,
and make him obey this command. A riotous brute is simply unendurable under any
circumstances.

§3. — VARIOUS SUGGESTIONS AND DIRECTIONS FOR FIELD-WORK.

To be a Good Collector, and nothing more, is a small affair ; great skill may be ac-
quired in the art, without a single quality commanding respect. One of the most vulgar,
brutal, and ignorant men I ever knew was a sharp collector and an excellent taxidermist.
Collecting stands much in the same relation to ornithology that the useful and indispensable
office of an apothecary bears to the duties of a physician. A field-naturalist is always more or
less of a collector ; the latter is sometimes found to know almost nothing of natural history
worth knowing. The true ornithologist goes out to study birds alive and destroys some of
them simply because that is the only way of learning their structure and technical characters.
There is mucli more about a bird than can be discovered in its dead body, — how much more,
then, than can be found out from its stuffed skin ! In my humble opinion the man who only
gathers birds, as a miser money, to swell his cabinet, and that other man who gloats, as miser-
like, over the same hoard, both work on a plane far beneath where the enlightened naturalist
stands. One looks at Nature, and never knows that she is beautiful ; the other knows she is
beautiful, as even a corpse may be; the naturalist catches her sentient expression, and knows

10 FIELD ORNITHOLOGY.

how beautiful she is ! I would have you to know and love her ; for fairer mistress never
swayed the heart of man. Aim high ! — press on, and leave the half-way house of mere col-
lectorship far behind in your pursuit of a delightful study, nor fancy the closet its goal.

Birds may be sought anywhere, at any time ; they should be sought everywhere, at
all times. Some come about your doorstep to tell their stories unasked. Others spring up
before you as you stroU iu the field, like the flowers tliat enticed the feet of Proserpine. Birds
flit by as you measure the tired roadside, lending a tithe of their life to quicken your dusty
steps. They disport overhead at hide-and-seek with the foliage as you loiter in the shade of
the forest, and their music now answers the sigh of the tree-tops, now ripples an echo to the
voice of the brook. But you will not always so pluck a thornless rose. Birds hedge them-
selves about with a bristling girdle of brier and bramble you cannot break ; they build their
tiny castles in the air surrounded by impassable moats, and the drawbridges are never down.
They crown the mountain-top you may lose your breath to climb ; they sprinkle the desert
where your parched lips may find no cooling draught ; they fleck the snow-wreath when the
nipping blast may make you turn your back ; they breathe unharmed the pestilent vapors of
the swamp that mean disease, if not death, for you ; they outride the storm at sea that sends
strong men to their last account. Where now will you look for birds ?

And yet, as skilled labor is always most productive, so expert search yields more than
random or blundering pursuit. Imprimis ; The more varied the face of a country, the more
varied its birds. A place all plain, all marsh, aU woodland, yields its particular set of birds,
perhaps in profusion : but the kinds will be limited in number. It is of first importance to
remember this, when you are so fortunate as to have choice of a collecting-ground ; and it wiU
guide your steps aright in a day's walk anywhere, for it vnW make you leave covert for open,
wet for dry, high for low and back again. WeU-watered country is more fruitful of bird-hfe
than desert or even prairie ; warm regions are more productive thon cold ones. As a rule,
variety and abundance of birds are in direct ratio to diversity and luxuriance of vegetation.
Your most valuable as well as largest bags may be made in the regions most favored b(jtani-
cally, up to the point where exuberance of plant-growtli mechanically opposes your operations.

Search for particular Birds can only be well directed, of course, by a knowledge of
their special haunts and habits, and is one of the mysteries of wood-craft only solved by long
experience and close observation. Here is where the true naturalist bears himself with con-
scious pride and strength, winning laurels that become him, and do honor to his calling.
Where to find game ("game" is anything that vulgar people do not ridicule you for shooting)
of all the kinds we have in this country has been so often and so minutely detailed in sporting-
works that it need not be here enlarged upon, especially since, being the best known, it is the
least valuable of ornithological material. Most large or otherwise conspicuous birds have very
special haunts that may be soon learned ; and as a rule such rank next after game in ornitho-
logical disesteem. Birds of prey are an exception to these statements; they range everywhere,
and most of them are worth securing. Hawks will unwittingly fly in your way oftener than
they will allow you to approach them when perched : be ready for them. Owls wall be
startled out of their retreats in thick bushes, dense foliage, and hollow trees, in the daytime ;
if hunting them at night, good aim in the dark may be taken by rubbing a wet lucifer match
on the sight of the gun, causing a momentary glimmer. Large and small waders are to be
found by any water's edge, in open marshes, and often on dry plains ; the herons more particu-
larly in heavy bogs and dense swamps. Under cover, waders are oftenest approached by
stealth ; in the open, by strategy; but most of the smaller kinds require the exercise of no special
precautions. Swimming birds, aside from water-fowl (as the "game" kinds are called), are gen-
erally shot from a boat, as they fly past ; but at their breeding places many kinds that congre-

SUGGESTIONS AND DIRECTIONS FOB FIELD-WORK. 11

gate in vast numbets f re more readily reached. There is a knack of shooting loons and grebes
on the water ; if they are to be reached at all by the shot it will be by aiming not directly at
them but at the water just in front of them. They do not go under just where they float,
but kick up behind like a jumping-jack and plunge forward. Rails and several kinds of
sparrows are confined to reedy marshes. But why prolong such desultory remarks ? Little
can be said to the point without at least a miniature treatise on ornithology ; and I have not
yet even alluded to the diversified host of small insectivorous and granivorous birds that fill our
woods and fields. The very existence of most of these is unknown to all but the initiated ; yet
they include the treasures of the ornithologist. Some are plain and humble, others are among
the most beautiful objects in nature ; but most agree in being small, and therefore liable to be
overlooked. The sum of my advice about them must be brief. Get over as much ground,
both wooded and open, as you can thoroughly examine in a day's tramp, and go out as many
days as you can. It is not always necessary, however, to keep on the tramp, especially dur-
ing the migration of the restless insectivorous species. One may often shoot for hours without
moving more than a few yards, by selecting a favorable locality and allowing the birds to
come to him as they pass in varied troops through the low woodlands or swampy thickets.
Keep your eyes and ears wide open. Look out for every rustling leaf and swaying twig and
bending blade of grass. Hearken to every note, however faint ; when there is no sound, listen
for a chirp. Habitually move as noiselessly as possible. Keep your gun always ready.
Improve every opportunity of studying a bird you do not wish to destroy ; you may often
make observations more valuable than the specimen. Let this be the rule with all birds you
recognize. But I fear I must teU you to shoot an unknown bird on sight ; it may give you
the slip in a moment and a prize may be lost. One of the most fascinating things about field-
work is its delightful uncertainty : you never know what 's in store for you as you start out ;
you never can tell what will happen next ; surprises are always in order, and excitement is
continually whetted on the chances of the varied chase.

For myself, the time is past, happily or not, when every bird was an agreeable surprise,
for dewdrops do not last all day ; but I have never yet walked in the woods without learning
something pleasant that I did not know before. I should consider a bird new to science
ample reward for a month's steady work ; one bird new to a locality would repay a week's
search ; a day is happily spent that shows me any bird that I never saw alive before. How
then can you, with so much before you, keep out of the woods another minute ?

All Times are good times to go a-shooting; but some are better than others, (a.) Time
of year. In all temperate latitudes, spring and fall — periods of migration with most birds —
are the most profitable seasons for collecting. Not only are birds then most numerous, both as
species and as individuals, and most active, so as to be the more readily found, but they
include a far larger proportion of rare and valuable kinds. In every locality in this country
the periodical visitants outnumber the permanent residents ; in most regions the number of
regular migrants, that simply pass through in the spring and fall, equals or exceeds that of
either of the sets of species that come from the south in spring to breed during the summer,
or from the north to spend the winter. Far north, of course, on or near the limit of the venial
migration, where there are few if any migrants passing through, and where the winter birds
are extremely few, nearly all the bird fauna is composed of '' summer visitants ; " far south,
in this country, the reverse is somewhat the case, though with many quiilifications. Between
these extremes, what is conventionally known as "a season " means tlio period of tlie vernal or
autunmal migration. For example, the body of birds present in the District of Columbia (where
I collected for several years) in the two months from April 20th to May 20th, and from Septem-
ber 10th to October 10th, is undoubtedly greater, as far as individuals are concerned, than the
total number found there at all other seasons of the year together. As for species, the number

12 FIELD OBNITHOLOGY.

of migrants about equals that of summer visitants ; the permanent residents equal the winter
residents, both these being fewer than either of the first mentioned sets ; while the irregular vis-
itors, or stragglers, that complete the bird fauna, are about, or rather less than one-half as many
as the species of either of the other categories. About Washington, therefore, I would readily
undertake to secure a greater variety of birds in the nine weeks above specified than in all the
rest of the year; for in that time would be found, not only all the permanent residents, but nearly
all the migrants, and almost all the summer visitants ; while the number of individual birds
that might be taken exceeds, by quite as much, the number of those procurable in the same
length of time at any other season. Mutatis mutandis, it is the same everywhere in this
country. Look out then, for "the season;" work all through it at a rate you could not
possibly sustain the year around; and make hay while the sun shines. (&.) Time of day.
Early in the morning and late in the afternoon are the best times for birds. There is a myste-
rious something in these diurnal crises that sets bird-life astir, over and above what is ex-
plainable by the simple fact that they are the transition periods from repose to activity, or
the reverse. Subtile meteorological changes occur; various delicate instruments used in
physicists' researches are sometimes inexplicably disturbed ; diseases have often their turning
point for better or worse ; people are apt to be born or die ; and the susceptible organisms of
birds manifest various excitements. Whatever the operative influence, the fact is, birds are
particularly lively at such hours. In the dark, they rest — most of them do ; at noonday,
again, they are comparatively still ; between these times they are passing to or from their
feeding grounds or roosting places ; they are foraging for food, they are singing ; at any rate,
they are in motion. Many migratory birds (among them warblers, etc.) perform their journeys
by night ; just at daybreak they may be seen to descend from the upper regions, rest a while,
and then move about briskly, singing and searching for food. Their meal taken, they recu-
perate by resting till towards evening ; feed again and are off for the night. If you have had
some experience, don't you remember what a fine spurt you made early that morning? —
how many unexpected shots offered as you trudged home belated that evening ? Now I am
no fowl, and have no desire to adopt the habits of the hen-yard ; I have my opinion of those
who like the world before it is aired ; I think it served the worm right for getting up, when
caught by the early bird ; nevertheless I go shooting betimes in the morning, and would walk
all night to find a rare bird at daylight, (c.) Weather. It rarely occurs in this country that
either heat or cold is unendurably severe; but extremes of temperature are unfavorable, for two
reasons : they both occasion great personal discomfort ; and in one extreme only a few hardy
birds will be found, while in the other most birds are languid, disposed to seek shelter, and
therefore less likely to be found. A still, cloudy day of moderate temjjerature offers as a rule
the best chance ; among other reasons, there is no sun to blind the eyes, as always occurs on a
bright day in one direction, particularly when the sun is low. While a bright day has its good
influence in setting many birds astir, some others are most easily approached in heavy or fall-
ing weather. Some kinds are more likely to be secured during a light snowfall, or after a
storm. Singular as it may seem, a thoroughly wet day offers some peculiar inducements to
the collector. I cannot well specify them, but I heartily indorse a remark John Cassin once
made to me: — "I like," said he, "to go shooting in the rain sometimes; there are some
curious things to be learned about birds when the trees are dripping, things too that have not
yet found their way into the books."

How many Birds of the Same Kind do you want? — All you can get — with some
reasonable limitations: say fifty or a hundred tif any but the most abundant and widely diffused
species. You may often be provoked with your fi-iend for speaking of some bird he shot, but
did not bring you, because, he says, "Why, you've got one like that!" Birdskins are
capital; capital unemployed may bo useless, but can never be worthless. Birdskins are a

SUGGESTIONS AND DIRECTIONS FOR FIELD-WORK. 13

medium of exchange among ornithologists the world over; they represent value, — money value
and scientific value. If you have more of one kind than you can use, exchange with some
one for species you lack ; both pai-ties to the transaction are equally benefited. Let me bring
tliis matter under several heads, (a.) Your own " series" of skins of any species is incomplete
until it contains at least one example of each sex, of every normal state of plumage, and every
normal transition stage of plumage, and further illustrates at least the principal abnormal
variations in size, form, and color to which the species may be subject; I will even add that
every difierent faunal area the bird is known to inhabit should be represented by a specimen,
particularly if there be anything exceptional in the geographical distribution of the species.
Any additional specimens to all such are your onli/ "duplicates," properly speaking, (b.) Birds
vary so much in their size, form, and coloring, that a ^' specific character" can only be pre-
cisely determined from examination of a large number of specimens, shot at different times, in
difi"erent places ; still less can the " limits of variation " in these respects be settled without
ample materials, (c.) The rarity of any bird is necessarily an arbitrary and fluctuating con-
sideration, because in the nature of the case there can be no natural unit of comparison,
nor standard of appreciation. It may be said, in general terms, no bird is actually " rare."
With a few possible exceptions, as in the cases of birds occupying extraordinarily limited
areas, like some of the birds of paradise, or about to become extinct, like the pied duck,
enough birds of all kinds exist to overstock every public and private collection in the world,
without sensible diminution of their numbers. " Rarity " or the reverse is only predicable
upon the accidental (so to speak) circumstances that throw, or tend to throw, spechnens into
naturalists' hands. Accessibility is the variable element in every case. The fulmar petrel is
said (on what authority I know not) to exceed any other bird in its aggregate of imlividuals ;
how do the skins of that bird you have handled compare in number with specimens you have
seen of the " rare " warbler of your own vicinity ? All birds are common somewhere at some
season ; the point is, have collectors been there at the time ? Moreover, even the arbitrary
appreciation of '* rarity " is fluctuating, and may change at any time ; long sought and highly
prized birds are liable to appear suddenly in great numbers in places that knew them not
before ; a single heavy " invoice " of a bird from some distant or little-explored region may at
once stock the market, and depreciate the current value of the species to almost nothing.
For example, Baird's bunting and Sprague's lark remained for thirty years among our special
desiderata, only one specimen of the former and two or three of the latter being known. Yet
they are two of the most abundant birds of Dakota, where in 1873 I took as many of both as
I desired ; and specimens enough have lately been secured to stock all the leading museums
of this country and Europe. (d.) Some practical deductions are to be made from these
premises. Your object is to make yourself acquainted with all the birds of your vicinity, and
to preserve a complete suite of specimens of every species. Begin by shooting every bird you
can, coupling this sad destruction, however, with the closest observations upon habits. You
wiU very soon fiU your series of a few kinds, that you find almost everywhere, almost daily.
Tlien if you are in a region the ornithology of which is well known to the profession, at once
stop killing these common birds — they are in every collection. You should not, as a rule,
destroy any more robins, blue1)irds, song-sparrows, and the like, than you want for yourself.
Keep an eye on them, studying them always, but turn your actual pursuit into other channels,
until in this way, gradually eliminating the undesirables, you exhaust the bird fauna as far as
possible (you will not quite exhaust it — at least for many years). But if you are in a new
or little-known locality, I liad almcjst said the very reverse course is the best. The chances
are that the most abundant and characteristic birds are " rare " in collections. Many a bird's
range is quite restricted : you may happen to be just at its metropolis ; seize the opportunity,
and get good store, — yes, up to fifty or a hundred ; all you can spare will be thankfully
received by those who have none. Quito as likely, birds that are scarce just where you happen

14 FIELD ORNITHOLOGY.

to be, are so only because you are on the edge of their habitat, and are plentiful in more acces-
sible regions. But, rare or not, it is always a point to determine the exact geographical
distribution of a species ; and this is fixed best by having specimens to tell each its own tale,
from as many different and widely separated localities as possible. This alone warrants pro-
curing one or more specimens in every locality ; the commonest bird acquires a certain value
if it be captured away from its ordinary range. An Eastern bluebird (Sialia sialis) shot in
California might be considered more valuable than the " rarest" bird of that State, and would
certainly be worth a hundred Massachusetts skins ; a varied thrush (Turdus ncevius) killed
in Massachusetts is worth a like number from Oregon. But let all your justifiable destruction
of birds be tempered with mercy ; your humanity wiU be continually shocked with the havoc
you work, and should never permit you to take life wantonly. Never shoot a bird you do not
fully intend to preserve, or to utilize in some proper way. Bird-life is too beautiful a thing to
destroy to no purpose ; too sacred a thing, like all life, to be sacrificed, unless the tribute is hal-
lowed by worthiness of motive. " Not a sparrow falleth to the ground without His notice."

I should not neglect to speak particularly of the care to be taken to secure full suites of
females. Most miscellaneous collections contain four or more males to every female, — a dis-
proportion that should be as far reduced as possible. The occasion of the disparity is obvious :
females are usually more shy and retiring in disposition, and consequently less frequently
noticed, while their smaller size and plainer plumage, as a rule, further favor their eluding
observation. The difference in coloring is greatest among those groups where the males are
most richly clad, and the shyness of the mother birds is most marked during the breeding
season, just when the males, full of song, and in their nuptial attire, become most conspicuous.
It is often worth whUe to neglect the gay Benedicts, to trace out and secure the plainer but not
less interesting females. This pursuit, moreover, often leads to discovery of the nests and
eggs, — an important consideration. Although both sexes are generally found together when
breeding, and mixing indiscriminately at other seasons, they often go in separate flocks, and
often migrate independently of each other; in this case the males usually in advance.
Towards the end of the passage of some warblers, for instance, we may get almost nothing
but females, all our specimens of a few days before having been males. The notable excep-
tions to the rule of smaller size of the female are among rapacious birds and many waders,
though in these last the disparity is not so marked. I only recall one instance, among Amer-
ican birds, of the female being mrire richly colored than the male — the phalaropes. When
the sexes are notably different in adult life, the young of both sexes usually resemble the adult
female, the young males gradually assuming their distinctive characters. When the adults
of both sexes are alike, the young commonly differ from them.

In the same connection I wish to urge a point, the importance of which is often over-
looked ; it is our practical interpretation of the adage, " a bird in the hand is worth two in the
bush." Always keep the first specimen you secure of a species till you get another ; no matter
how common the species, how poor the specimen, or how certain you may feel of getting other
better ones, keep it. Your most reasonable calculations may come to naught, from a variety
of circumstances, and any specimen is better than no specimen, on general principles. And in
general, do not, if you can help it, discard any specimen in the field. No tyro can teU what
will prove valuable and what not ; while even the expert may regret to find that a point comes
up which a specimen he injudiciously discarded might have determined. Let a collection be
"weeded out," if at all, only after deliberate and mature examination, when the scientific results
it affords have been elaborated by a competent ornithologist ; and even then, the refuse (with
certain limitations) had better be put where it will do some good, than be destroyed utterly.
For instance, I myself once valued, and used, some Smithscmian "sweepings"; and I know
very well what to do with specimens, twiv, to which I would not give house-room in my own
cabinet. If forced to reduce bulk, owing to limited facilities for transportation in the field

SUGGESTIONS AND DIRECTIONS FOR FIELD-WORK. 15

(as too often happens), throw away according to size, other things being equal. Given only
so many cubic inches or feet, eliminate the few large birds which take up the space that would
contain fifty or a hundred different little ones. If you have a fine large bald eagle or pelican,
for instance, throw it away first, and follow it with your ducks, geese, etc. In this way, the
bulk of a large miscellaneous collection may be reduced one half, perhaps, with very little
depreciation of its actual value. The same principle may be extended to other collections in
natural history (excepting fossils, which are always weighty, if not also bulky) ; very few bird-
skins, indeed, being as valuable contributions to science as, for example, a vial of miscella-
neous insects that occupies no more room may prove to be.

What is " A Good Day's Work ? " — Fifty birds shot, their skins preserved, and obser-
vations recorded, is a very good day's work; it is sharp practice, even when birds are plentiful.
I never knew a person to average anywhere near it; even during the "season" such work
cannot possibly be sustained. You may, of course, by a murderous discharge into a flock,
as of blackbirds or reedbirds, get a hundred or more in a moment ; but I refer to collecting
a fair variety of birds. You wUl do very well if you average a dozen a day during the seasons.
I doubt whether any collector ever averaged as many the year around ; it would be over foui
thousand specimens annually. The greatest number I ever procured and prepared in one day
was forty, and I have not often gone over twenty. Even when collecting regularly and
assiduously, I am satisfied to average a dozen a day during the migrations, and one-third or
one-fourth as many the rest of the year. Probably this implies the shooting of about one in
five not skinned for various reasons, as mutilation, decay, or want of time.

Approaching Birds. — There is little if any trouble in getting near enough to shoot
most birds. With notable exceptions, they are harder to see when near enough, or to hit
when seen ; particularly small birds that are almost incessantly in motion. As a rule — and a
curious one it is — difficulty of approach is in direct ratio to the size of the bird ; it is perhaps
because large conspicuous birds are objects of more general pursuit than the little ones you
ordinarily search for. The qualities that birds possess for self-preservation may be called
tvariness in large birds, shyness in small ones. The former make oft" knomngly from a sus-
picious object ; the latter fly from anything that is strange to them, be it dangerous or not.
This is strikingly illustrated in the behavior of small birds in the wilderness, as contrasted with
their actions about towns ; singular as it may seem, they are more timid under the former cir-
cumstances than when grown accustomed to the presence of man. It is just the reverse with
a hawk or raven, for instance ; in populous districts they spend much of their time in trying to
save their skins, while in a new country they have not learned, like Indians, that a white man
is " mighty uncertain." In stealing on a shy bird, you wUl of course take advantage of any
cover that may offer, as inequalities of the ground, thick bushes, the trunks of trees ; and it is
often worth while to make a considerable detour to secure unobserved approach. I think that
birds are more likely, as a rule, to be frightened away by the movements of the collector,
than by his simple presence, however near, and that they are more afraid of noise than of
mere motion. Crackling of twigs and rustling of leaves are sharp sounds, though not loud
ones ; you may have sometimes been surprised to find how distinctly you could hear the move-
ments of a horse or cow in underbrush at some distance. Birds have sharp ears for such
sounds. Fonn a habit of stealthy movement ; it tells, in the long run, in comparison with
lumbering tread. There are no special precautions to be taken in shooting through high open
forest ; you have only to saunter along with your eyes in the tree-tops. It is ordinarily the
easiest and on the whole the must renuinerative path of the collector. In traversing fields and
meadows move briskly, your principal object being to flush birds out of the grass ; and as most
of your shots will be snap ones, keep in readiness for instant action. Excellent and varied

16 FIELD OBNITHOLOGY.

shooting is to be had along the hedge rows, and in the rank herbage that fringes feace*. It is
best to keep at a little distance, yet near enough to arouse all the birds as you pass : you may
catch them on wing, or pick them off just as they settle after a short flight. In this shooting,
two persons, one on each side, can together do more than twice as much work as one. Thick-
ets and tangled undergrowth are favorite resorts of many birds; but when very close, or,
as often happens, over miry ground, they are hard places to shoot in. As you come thrashing
through the brush, the little inhabitants are scared into deeper recesses ; but if you keep still a
few minutes in some favorable spot, they are reassured, and vrill often come back to take a
peep at you. A good deal of standing still will repay you at such times ; needless to add, you
cannot be too lightly loaded for such shooting, when birds are mostly out of sight if a dozen
yards off. When yourself concealed in a thicket, and no birds appear, you can often call num-
bers about you by a simple artifice. Apply the back of your hand to your slightly parted lips,
and suck in air; it makes a nondescript " screeping " noise, vaiiable in intonation at your
whim, and some of the sounds resemble the cries of a wounded bird, or a young one in distress.
It w-akes up the whole neighborhood, and sometimes puts certain birds almost beside themiselves,
particularly in the breeding season. Torturing a wounded bird to make it scream in agony
accomplishes the same result, but of course is only permissible under great exigency. In pen-
, etratiug swamps and marshes, the best advice I can give you is to tell you to get along the
best way you can. Shooting on perfectly open ground offers much the same case ; you must
be left to your own devices. I will say, however, you can ride on horseback, or even in a
buggy, nearer birds than they will allow you to walk up to them. Sportsmen take advantage
of this to get within a shot of the upland plover, usually a very wary bird in populous districts ;
I have driven right into a flock of wild geese ; in California they often train a bullock to graze
gradually up to geese, the gunner being hidden by its body. There is one trick worth know-
ing ; it is not to let a bird that has seen you know by your action that you have seen it, but to
keep on unconcernedly, gradually sidling nearer. I have secured many hawks in this way,
Avhen the bird would have flown off at the first step tif direct approach. Numberless other
little arts will come to you as your wood-craft matures.

Recovering Birds. — It is not always that you secure the birds you kill ; you may not
be able to find them, or you may see them lying, perhaps but a few feet off, in a spot practi-
cally inaccessible. Under such circumstances a retriever does excellent service, as already
hinted; he is equally useful when a bird properly '"marked down" is not found there, having
fluttered or run away and hidden elsewhere. The most diflicult of all places to find birds is
among reeds, the eternal sameness of which makes it almost impossible to rediscover a spot
whence the eye has once wandered, while the peculiar growth allows birds to slip far down out
of sight. In rank grass or weeds, when you have walked up with your eye fixed on the spot
where the bird seemed to fall, yet failed to discover it, drop your cap or handkerchief for a
mark, and hunt around it as a centre, in enlarging circles. In thickets, make a " bee line "
for the spot, if possible keeping your eye on the spray from which the bird fell, and not for-
getting where you stood on firing ; ycni may require to come back to the spot and take a new
departure. You will not seldom see a bird just shot at fly off as if unharmed, when really it
Avill drop dead in a few moments. In aU cases therefore when the bird does not drop at the
shot, follow it with your eyes as far as you can ; if you see it finally drop, or even flutter
languidly downward, mark it on the principles just mentioned, and go in search. Make every
endeavor to secure wounded birds, on the score of humanity ; they should not be left to pine
away and die in lingering misery if it can possibly be avoided.

Killing Wounded Birds. — You wall often recover vdnged birds, as full of life as before
the bone was broken ; and others too grievously hurt to fly, yet far from death. Your object is

r

SUGGESTIONS AND DIBECTIONS FOR FIELD-WORK. 17

to kill them as quickly and as painlessly as possible, without injuring the plumage. This is
to be accomi)lished, with all small birds, by suffocation. The respiration and circulation of
birds is very active, and most of them die in a few moments if the lungs are so compressed
that they cannot breathe. Squeeze the bird tightly across the chest, under the wings, thumb
on one side, middle finger on the other, forefinger pressed in the hollow at the root of the neck,
between the forks of the merrythought. Press firmly, hard enough to fix the chest immovably
and compress the lungs, but not to break in the ribs. The bird will make vigorous but ineffect-
ual efforts to breathe, when the muscles will contract spasmodically ; but in a moment more,
the system relaxes with a painful shiver, light fades from the eyes, and the lids close. I
assure you, it will make you wince the first few times ; you had better habitually hold the
poor creature behind you. You can tell by its limp feel and motionlessness when it is dead,
without watching the sad struggle. Large birds obviously cannot be dealt with in this
way ; I would as soon attempt to throttle a dog as a loon, for instance, upon which all the
pressure you can give makes no sensible impression. A winged hawk, again, will throw itself
on its back as you come up, and show such good fight with beak and talons, that you may be
quite severely scratched in the encounter : meanwliile the struggling bird may be bespattering
its plumage with blood. In such a case — in any case of a large bird making decided resist-
ance — I think it best to step back a few paces and settle the matter with a light charge of
mustard-seed. Any large bird once secured may be speedily dispatched by stabbing to the
heart with some slender instrument thrust in under the wing — care must be taken too about
the bleeding ; or, it may be instantly killed by piercing the brain with a knife introduced into
the mouth and driven upward and obliquely backward from the palate. The latter method is
preferable as it leaves no outward sign and causes no bleeding to speak of. With your thumb,
you may indent the back part of a bird's skull so as to compress the cerebellum ; if you can
get deep enough in, without materially disordering the plumage, or breaking the skin, the
method is unobjectionable.

Handling Bleeding Birds. — Bleeding depends altogether upon the part or organ
wounded ; but other things being equal, violence of the haemorrhage is usually in direct pro-
portion to the size of the shot-hole ; when mustard-seed is used it is ordinarily very trifling, if it
'occur at all. Blood flows oftener from the orifice of exit of a shot, tha:n from the wound of
entrance, for the latter is usually plugged with a little wad of feathers driven in. Bleeding from
the mouth or nostrils is the rule when the lungs are wounded. When it occcurs, hold up the
bird by the feet, and let it drip ; a general squeeze of the body in that position will facilitate
the di'ainage. In general, hold a bird so that a bleeding place is most dependent; then, pres-
sure about the part will help the flow. A " gob" of blood, which is simply a forming clot,
on the plumage may often be dexterously flipped almost clean away with a snap of the finger.
It is first-rate practice to take cotton and forceps into the field to plug up shot-holes, and stop
the mouth and nostrils and vent on the spot. I follow the custom of the books in recommend-
ing this, but I will confess I have rarely done it myself, and I suspect that only a few of our
most leisurely and elegant collectors do so habitually. Shot-holes may be found by gently
raising the feathers, or blowing them aside ; you can of course get only a tiny plug into the
wound itself, but it should be one end of a sizable pledget, the rest lying fluffy among the
feathers. In stopping the mouth or vent, ram the fluff of cotton, entirely inside. You cannot
conveniently stop uj) the nostrils of small birds separately ; but take a light cylinder of cotton,
lay it transversely across the base of the upper mandible, closely covering the nostrils, and
confine it there by tucking each end tightly into the corner of the mouth. In default of such
nice fixing as this, a pinch of dry loam pressed on a bleeding spot will plaster itself there and
stop further mischief. Never try to wijye off fresh blood that has already wetted the plumage ;
you will only make matters worse. Let it dry on, and then — but the treatment of blood-
stains, and other soilings of plumage, is given beyond.

2

18 FIELD ORNITHOLOGY.

Carrying Birds Home Safe. — Suppose you have secured a fine specimec, very likely
without a soiled or ruffled feather ; your next care will be to keep it so till you are ready to
skin it. But if you pocket or bag it directly, it will be a sorry-looking object before you get
home. Each specimen must be separately cared for, by wrapping in stout paper; writing
paper is as good as any, if not the best. It will repay you to prepare a stock of paper before
startino- out ; your most convenient sizes are those of a half-sheet of note, of letter, and of cap
respectively. Either take these, or fold and cut newspaper to correspond; besides, it is always
well to have a ivholc newspaper or two for large birds. Plenty of paper will go in the breast
pockets of the shooting-coat. Make a "cornucopia," — the simplest thing in the world, but,
like tjdng a particular knot, hard to explain. Setting the wings closely, adjusting disturbed
feathers, and seeing that the bill points straight forward, thrust the bird head first into one
of these paper cones, till it will go no further, being bound by the bulge of the breast. Let
the cone be large enough for the open end to fold over or pinch together entirely beyond the
tail. Be particular not to crumple or bend the tail- feathers. Lay the paper cases in the game
bag or great pocket so that they very nearly run parallel and lie horizontal ; they will carry
better than if thrown in at random. Avoid overcrowding the packages, as far as is reasonably
practicable ; moderate pressure will do no harm, as a rule, but if great it may make birds
bleed afresh, or cause the fluids of a wounded intestine to ooze out and soak the plumage of
the belly, — a very bad accident indeed. For similar obvious reasons, do not put a large heavy
bird on top of a lot of little ones ; I would sooner sling a hawk or heron over my shoulder, or
carry it by hand. If it goes in the bag, see that it gets to the bottom. Avoid putting birds
in pockets that are close about your person ; they are almost always unduly pressed, and may
gain just enough additional warmth from your body to make them begin to decompose before
you can get at skinning them. Handle birds no more than is necessary, especially white-
plumaged ones ; ten to one your hands are powder-begrimed : and besides, even the warmth
and moisture of your palms may tend to injure a delicate feathering. Ordinarily pick up a
bird by the feet or bill ; as you need both hands to make the cornucopia, let the specimen
dangle by the toes from your teeth while you are so employed. In catching at a wounded
bird, aim to cover it entirely with your hand ; but whatever you do, never seize it by the tail,
which then will often be left in your hands for your pains. Never grasp wing-tips or tail-
feathers; these large flat quills would get a peculiar crimping aU along the webs, very difficult
to efface. Finally, I would add there is a certain knack or art in manipulating, either of a
dead bird or a birdskin, by which you may handle it with seeming carelessness and perfect
impunity ; whilst the most gingerly fingering of an inexperienced person will leave its rude
trace. You will naturally acquire the correct touch ; but it can be neither taught nor
described.

A Special Case. — While the ordinary run of land birds will be brought home in good
order by the foregoing method, some require special precautions. I refer to sea birds, such as
gulls, terns, petrels, etc., shot from a boat. In the first place, the plumage of most of them is,
in part at least, white and of exquisite purity. Then, fish-eating birds usually vomit and
purge when shot. They are necessarily fished all dripping from the water. They are too
large for pocketing. If you put them on the thwarts or elsewhere about the boat, they usually
fall off, or are knocked off", into the bilge water ; if you stow them in the cubby-hole, they will
assuredly soil by mutual pressure, or by rolling about. It will repay you to pick them from
the water by the bill, and shake off all the water you can ; hold them up, or let some one do
it, till they are tolerably dry ; plug the mouth, nostrils, and vent, if not also shot-holes ; wrap
each one separately in a cloth {not paper) or a mass of tow, and pack steadily in a covered box
or basket taken on board for this purpose. With such precautions as these birds most liable
to be soiled reach the skinning table in perfect order ; and your care will afterward transform
them into specimens without spot or blemish.

HYGIENE OF COLLECTORSHIP. 19

HYGIENE OF COLLECTORSHIP.

It is Unnecessary to speak of the Healthfulness of a pursuit that, like the collectoi*'s
occupation, demands regular bodily exercise, and at the same time stimulates the mind by
supjjlying an object, thus caUing the whole system into exhilarating action. Yet collecting
has its perils, not to be overlooked if we would adequately guard against them, as fortunately
we may, in most cases, by simple precautions. The dangers of taxidermy itself are elsewhere
noticed ; but, besides these, the collector is exposed to vicissitudes of the weather, may endure
great fatigue, may breathe miasm, and may be mechanically injured.

Accidents from the Gun have been already treated ; a few special rules will render
others little liable to occur. The secret of safe climbing is never to relax one hold until another
is secured ; it is in spirit equally applicable to scrambling over rocks, a particularly difficult
thing to do safely with a loaded gun. Test rotten, slippery, or otherwise suspicious holds
before trusting them. In lifting the body up anywhere, keep the mouth shut, breathe
through the nostrils, and go slowly. In swimming, waste no strength unnecessarily in trying
to stem a current ; yield partly, and land obliquely lower down ; if exhausted, float ; the
slightest motion of the hands will ordinarily keep the face above water ; and in any event keep
your wits collected. In fording deeply, a heavy stone will strengthen your position. Never
sail a boat experimentally ; if you are no sailor, take one with you or stay on land. In cross-
ing a high, narrow footpath, never look lower than your feet ; the muscles will work true if
not confused with faltering instructions from a giddy brain. On soft ground, see what, if
anything, has preceded you; large hoof-marks generally mean that the way is safe; if none
are found, inquire for yourself before going on. Quicksand is the most treacherous, because
far more dangerous than it looks ; but I have seen a mule's ears finally disappear in genuine
mud. Cattle paths, however erratic, commonly prove the surest way out of a difficult place,
whether of uncertain footing or dense undergrowth.

Miasm. — Unguarded exposure in malarious regions usually entails sickness, often pre-
ventable, however, by due precautions. It is worth knowing, in the first place, that miasmatic
poison is most powerful between sunset and sunrise ; more exactly, from the damp of the
evening until night vapors are dissipated ; we may be out in the daytime with comparative
impunity, where to pass a night would be almost certain disease. If forced to camp out, seek
the highest and dryest spot, put a good fire on the swamp side, and also, if possible, let trees
intervene. Never go out on an empty stomach ; just a cup of cofiee and a crust may make a
decided difference. Meet the earliest unfavorable symptoms with quinine ; I should rather say,
if unacclimated, anticipate them with tliis invaluable agent. Endeavor to maintain high
health of all functions by the natural means oi regularity and temperance in diet, exercise, and
repose.

" Taking Cold." — This vague " household word " indicates one or more of a long varied
train of unpleasant affections, nearly always traceable to one or the other of only two causes :
sudden change of temperature, and unequal distribution of temperature. No extremes of heat
or cold can alone effect this result; persons frozen to death do not "take cold "during the
process. But if a part of the body be rapidly cooled, as by evaporation fi'om a wet article of
clothing, or by sitting in a draught of air, the rest of the body remaining at an ordinary tem-
perature ; or if the temperature of the whole be suddenly changed by going out into the cold,
or, especially, by coming into a warm room, there is much liability of trouble. There is an
old saying, —

" Wlien the air comes through a hole
Say your prayers to save your soul;"

20 FIELD OBNITHOLOGY.

and I should think ahnost any one could get a " cold" with a spoonful of water on the wrist
held to a key-hole. Singular as it may seein, sudden warming when cold is more dangerous
than the reverse ; every one has noticed how soon the handkerchief is required on entering a
heated room on a cold day. Frost-bite is an extreme illustration of this. As the Irishman
said on picking himself up, it was not the fall, hut stopping so quickly that hurt him ; it is
not the lowering of the temperature to the freezing point, hut its subsequent elevation, that
devitalizes the tissue. This is why rubbing with snow, or bathing in cold water, is required
to restore safely a frozen part ; the arrested circulation must be very gradually re-established,
or inflammation, perhaps mortification, ensues. General precautions against taking cold are
almost self-evident, in this light. There is ordinarily little if any danger to be apprehended
from wet clothes, so long as exercise is kept up; for the " glow " about compensates for the
extra cooling by evaporation. Nor is a complete drenching more likely to be injurious than
wetting of one part. But never sit still wet ; and in changing rub the body dry. There is a
general tendency, springing from fatigue, indolence, or indifi"erence, to neglect damp feet ; that
is to say, to dry them by the fire ; but this process is tedious and uncertain. I would say
especially, off with the muddy boots and sodden socks at once ; dry stockings and slippers,
after a hunt, may make just the difference of your being able to go out again or never. Take
care never to check perspiration ; during this process, the body is in a somewhat critical condi-
tion, and sudden arrest of the function may result disastrously, even fatally. One part of the
business of perspiration is to equalize bodUy temperature, and it must not be interfered with.
The secret of much that might be said about bathing when heated, lies here. A person over-
heated, panting it may be, ^\^th throbbing temples and a dry skin, is in danger partly because
the natural cooling by evaporation from the skin is denied, and this condition is sometimes not
far from a " sunstroke." Under these circumstances, a person of fairly good constitution may
plunge into the water with impunity, even with benefit. But if the body be already cooling
by sweating, rapid abstraction of heat from the surface may cause internal congestion, never
unattended with danger. Drinking ice-water offers a somewhat parallel case ; even on stoop-
ing to drink at the brook, when flushed with heat, it is well to bathe the face and hands first,
and to taste the water before a full draught. It is a well-known excellent rule, not to bathe
immediately after a full meal ; because during digestion the organs concerned are compara-
tively engorged, and any sudden disturbance of the circulation may be disastrous. The
imperative necessity of resisting drowsiness under extreme cold requires no comment. In
walking under a hot sun, the head may be sensibly protected by green leaves or grass in the
hat ; they may be advantageously moistened, but not enough to drip about the ears. Under
such circumstances the slightest giddiness, dimness of sight, or confusion of ideas, should be
taken as a warning of possible sunstroke, instantly demanding rest and shelter.

Hunger and Fatigue are more closely related than they might seem to be ; one is a sign
that the fuel is out, and the other asks for it. Extreme fatigue, indeed, destroys appetite ;
this simply means, temporary incapacity for digestion. But even far short of this, food is more
easily digested and better relished after a little preparation of the furnace. On coming home
tired, it is much better to make a leisurely and reasonably nice toilet than to eat at once, or to
lie still thinking how tired you are ; after a change and a wash you will feel like a " new
man," and go to table in capital state. Whatever dietetic iri'egularities a high state of civili-
zation may demand or render practicable, a normally healthy person is inconvenienced almost
as soon as his regular meal-time passes without food ; a few can work comfortably or profit-
ably fasting over six or eight hours. Eat before starting ; if for a day's tramp, take a lunch ;
the most frugal meal will appease if it do not satisfy hunger, and so postpone its urgency. As
a small scrap of practical wisdom, I would add, keep the remnants of the lunch, if there are
any ; for you cannot always be sure of getting in to supper.

REGISTBATION AND LABELLING. 21

Stimulation. — When cold, fatigued, depressed in mind, and on other occasions, you
may feel inclined to resort to artificial stimulus. Respecting this many-sided theme I have a
few words to ofier of direct bearing on the collector's case. It should be clearly understood in
the first place that a stimulant confers no strength whatever ; it simply calls the powers that be
into increased action at their own expense. Seeking real strength in stimulus is as wise as an
attempt to lift yourself up by the boot-straps. You may gather yourself to leap the ditch and
you clear it ; but no such muscular energy can be sustained ; exhaustion speedily renders further
expenditure impossible. But now suppose a very powerful mental impression be made, say
the circumstance of a succession of ditches in front, and a mad dog behind ; if the stimulus of
terror be suflSciently strong, you may leap on till you drop senseless. Alcoholic stimulus is a
parallel case, and is not seldom pushed to the same extreme. Under its influence you never
can tell when you are tired ; the expenditure goes on, indeed, vnth unnatural rapidity, only it
is not felt at the time ; but the upshot is you have all the original fatigue to endure and to
recover from, plus the fatigue resulting from over-excitation of the system. Taken as a forti-
fication against cold, alcohol is as unsatisfactory as a remedy for fatigue. Insensibility to cold
does not imply protection. The fact is the exposure is greater than before ; the circulation and
respiration being hurried, the waste is greater, and as sound fuel cannot be immediately supplied,
the temperature of the body is soon lowered. The transient warmth and glow over, the system
has both cold and depression to endure ; there is no use in borrowing from yourself and fancy-
ing you are richer. Secondly, the value of any stimulus (except in a few exigencies of disease
or injury) is in proportion, not to the intensity, but to the equableness and durability of its
effect. This is one reason why tea, coffee, and articles of corresponding qualities, are preferable
to alcoholic drinks ; they work so smoothly that their effect is often unnoticed, and they '' stay
by" well; the friction of alcohol is tremendous in comparison. A glass of grog may help a
veteran over the fence, but no one, young or old, can shoot all day on liquor. I have had
so much experience in the use of tobacco as a mild stimulant that I am probably no impartial
judge of its merits: I will simply say I do not use it in the field, because it indisposes to mus-
cular activity, and favors reflection when observation is required ; and because temporary
abstinence provokes the morbid appetite and renders the weed more grateful afterwards.
Thirdly, undue excitation of any physical function is followed by con-esponding depression, on
the simple principle that action and reaction are equal ; and the balance of health turns too
easily to be wilfully disturbed. Stimulation is a draft upon vital capital, when interest alone
should suffice ; it may be needed at times to bridge a chasm, but habitual living beyond vital
income infiillibly entails bankruptcy in health. The use of alcohol in health seems practically
restricted to purposes of sensuous gratification on the part of those prepared to pay a round
price f(jr this luxury. The three golden rules here are, — never drink before breakfast, never
drink alone, and never drink bad liquor; their observance may make even the abuse of
alcohol tolerable. Serious objections for a naturalist, at least, are that science, viewed
through a glass, seems distant and uncertain, while the joys of rum are immediate and unques-
tionable ; and that intemperance, being an attempt to defy certain physical laws, is therefore
eminently unscientific.

§5 — REGISTRATION AND LABELLING.

A mere Outline of a Field Naturalist's Duties would be inexcusably incomplete with-
out mention of these important matters ; and, because so much of the business of collecting
must be left to be acquired in the school of experience, I am the more anxious to give explicit
directions whenever, as in this instance, it is possible to do so.

Record your Observations Daily. — In one sense the specimens themselves are your
record, — prima facie evidence of your industry and ability; and if labelled, as I shall presently

22 FIELD ORNITHOLOGY.

advise, they tell no small part of the whole story. But this is not enough ; indeed, I am not
sure that an ably conducted ornithological journal is not the better half of your operations.
Under your editorship of labelling, specimens tell what they know about themselves ; but you
can tell much more yourself. Let us look at a day's work : You have shot and skinned so
many birds and laid them away labelled. You have made observations about them before
shooting, and have observed a number of birds that you did not shoot. You have items of
haunts and habits, abundance or scarcity ; of manners and actions under special circumstances,
as of pairing, nesting, laying, rearing young, feeding, migrating, and what not ; various notes
of birds are still ringing in your ears ; and finally, you may have noted the absence of species you
saw a while before, or had expected to occur in your vicinity. Meteorological and topographi-
cal items, especially when travelling, are often tif great assistance in explaining the occurrences
and actions of birds. Now you know these things, but very likely no one else does ; and
you know them at the time, but you will not recollect a tithe of them in a few weeks or months,
to say nothing of years. Don't trust your memory : it will trip you up ; what is clear now will
grow obscure ; what is found will be lost. Write down everything while it is fresh in your
mind ; write it out in full : time so spent now will be time saved in the end, when you ofi'er
your researches to the discriminating public. Don't be satisfied with a dry-as-dust item ;
clothe a skeleton fact, and breathe life into it vidth thoughts that glow ; let the paper smell of
the woods. There 's a pulse in a new fact ; catch the rhythm before it dies. Keep ofi' the
quicksands of mere memorandum — that means something "to be remembered," v\'hich is just
what you cannot do. Shun abbreviations ; such keys rust with disuse, and may fail in after
times to unlock the secret that should have been laid bare in the beginning. Use no signs
intelligible only to yourself : your note-books may come to be overhauled by others whom
you would not wish to disappoint. Be sparing of sentiment, a delicate thing, easily degraded
to drivel : crude enthusiasm always hacks instead of hewing. Beware of literary infelicities :
" the written word remains," it may be, after you have passed away; put down nothing for
your friend's blush, or your enemy's sneer ; write as if a stranger were looking over your
shoulder.

Ornithological Booli-keeping may be left to your discretion and good taste in the
details of execution. Each may consult his preferences for rulings, headings, and blank forms
of all sorts, as well as particular modes of entry. But my experience has been that the entries
it is advisable to make are too multifarious to be accommodated by the most ingenious formal
ruling; unless, indeed, you make the conventional heading "Remarks" disproportionately
wide, and commit to it everything not otherwise provided for. My preference is decidedly for a
plain page. I use a strongly bound blank book, cap size, containing at least six or eight
quires of good smooth paper; but smaller may be needed for travelling, even down to a pocket
note-book. I would not advise a multiplicity of books, splitting up your record into difi'erent
departments : let it be journal and register of specimens combined. (The registry of your
otvn collecting has nothing to do with the registei- of your cabinet of birds, which is sure to
include a proportion of specimens fi'om other sources, received in exchange, donated, or pur-
chased. I speak of this beyond.) I have found it convenient to commence a day's record
with a register of the specimens secured, each entry consisting of a duplicate of the bird's label
(see beyond), accompanied by any further remarks I have to ofier respecting the particular
specimens ; then to go on with the full of my day's observations, as suggested in the last para-
graph. You thus have a " register of collections " in chronological order, told off with an
unbroken series of numbers, checked with the routine label-items, and continually interspersed
with the balance of your ornithological studies. Since your private field-number is sometiines
an indispensable clew to the authentication of a specimen after it has left your own hands,
never duplicate it. If you are collecting other objects of natural history besides birds, still have

BEGISTBATIOX AND LABELLING. 23

but one series of numbers ; duly enter your mammal, or mineral, or whatever it is, in its
place, with the number under which it happens to fall. Be scrupulously accurate with these
and all other figures, as of dates and measurements. Always use black ink; the "fancy"
writing-fluids, even the useful carmiue, fade sooner than black, while lead-pencilling is never
safe.

Labelling. — This should never be neglected. It is enough to make a sensitive ornithol-
ogist shiver to see a specimen without that indispensable appendage — a label. I am sorry to
observe that the routine labelling of most collections is far from being satisfactory. A well-
appoiuted label is something more than a slip of paper with the bird's name on it, and is still
defective, if, as is too often the case, only the locality and collector are added. A complete
label records the following particulars : 1. Title of the survey, voyage, exploration, or other
expedition (if any), during which the specimen was collected. 2. Name of the person in
charge of the same (and it may be remarked that the less he really cares about birds, and the
less he actually interests himself to procure them, the more particular he will be about this).
3. Title of the institution or association (if any) under the auspices or patronage of which the
specimen was procured, or for which it is designed. 4. Name of collector; partly to give
credit where it is due, but principally to fix responsibility, and authenticate the rest of the
items. 5. Collector's number, referring to his note-book, as just explained ; if the specimen
afterwards forms part of a general collection it usually acquires another number by new regis-
try ; the collector's then becoming the " original," as distinguished from the " current,"
number. 6. Localiti/, perhaps the most important of all the items. A specimen of unknown
or even uncertain origin is worthless or nearly so ; while lamentable confusion has only too
often arisen in ornithological writings from vague or erroneous indications of locality : I should
say that a specimen "not authentic " in this particular had better have its supposed origin
erased and be let alone. Nor will it do to say simply, for instance, " North America" or even
" United States." The general geographical distribution of birds being according to recognized
fVumal areas, ornithologists generally know already the quarter of the globe from which any
bird comes ; the locality of particular specimens, therefore, should be fixed dowoi to the very
spot. If this be obscure add the name of the nearest place to be found on a fairly good map,
giving distance and direction. 7. Date of collection, — day of the month, and year. Among
other reasons for this may be mentioned the fact that it is often important to know what
season a particular plumage indicates. 8. Sex, and if possible also age, of the specimen, — an
item that bespeaks its own importance. Ornithologists of all countries are agreed upon certain
signs to indicate sex. These are : ^ for male, V for female, — the symbols respectively of
Mars and Venus. Immaturity is often denoted by the sign ^ ; thus, $ ^, young male. Or,
we may write 9 ad., 9 y<J-, for adult female, young female, respectively. It is preferable,
however, to use the language of science, not our vernacular, and say $ juv. (juvenis, yoimg).
^' Nupt." signifies breeding plumage; " /loniof." means a bird of the year. 9. Measurements
of length, and of extent of wings; the former can only be obtained approximately, and the
latter not at all, from a prepared specimen. 10. Color of the eyes, and of the bill, feet, or
other naked or .soft parts, the tints of which may change in drying. 11. Miscellaneous partic-
idars, such as contents of stomach, special circumstances of capture, vernacular name, etc.
12. Scientific name of the bird. This is really the least important item of all, though
generally thought to take precedence. But a bird labels itself, so to speak ; and nature's
label may be deciphered at any time. In fact, I would enjoin upon the collector not to
write out the supposed name of the bird in the field, unless the species is so well known as
to be absolutely unquestionable. Proper identification, in any case to which the slightest
doubt may attach, can only be made after critical study in the closet with ample facilities for
examination and comparison. The first eight items, and the twelfth, usually constitute the

24

FIELD OBNITHOLOGY.

face of a label ; the rest are commonly written on the back. Labels should he of light card-
board, or very stiff writing paper ; they may be dressed attractively, as fancy suggests ; the
general items of a large number of specimens are best printed ; the special ones must of course
be written. Shape is immaterial; small "cards" or "tickets" are prefeiTed by some, and
certainly look very well when neatly appointed ; but I think, on the whole, that a shape
answering the idea of a " slip" rather than a " ticket" is most eligible. A slip about three
inches long and two thirds of an inch wide will do very well for anything, from a hawk to a
humming-bird. Something like the " shipping tag " used by merchants is excellent, particu-
larly for larger objects. It seems most natural to attach the string to the left-hand end. The
slip should be tied so as to swing just clear of the bird's legs, but not loose enough to dangle
several inches, for in that case the labels are continually tangling with each other when the
birds are laid away in drawers. The following diagrams show the face and back of the last
label I happened to write before these lines were originally penned ; they represent the size
and shape that I find most convenient for general pui-poses ; while the " legend " illustrates
every one of the twelve items above specified.

§ Explorations in Dakota. Dr. Elliott Coues, U. S. A.

'5

g Ko. 2655. Buteo borealis (Gm.) V. 9 juv.

•3 Fort Randall, Missouri River. Oct. 29, 1872.

23.00 X 53.00 X 17.50. — Eyes yellowish-gray ; bill horn-blue,
darker at tip; cere wax-yellow; tarsi dull yellowish; claws
bluish-black. Stomach contained portions of a rabbit; also, a
large tapeworm.

Reverse-

Directions for Measurement may be inserted here, as this matter pertains rightfully to
the recording of specimens. The following instructions apply not only to length and extent,
but to the principal other dimensions, which may be taken at any time. For large birds, a
tape-line showing inches and fourths will do ; for smaller ones, a foot-rule graduated for inches
and eighths, or better, decimals to hundredths, must be used ; and for all nice measurements
the dividers are indispensable. " Length : " Distance between the tip of the bill and end of
the longest tail-feather. Lay the bird on its back on the ruler on a table; take hold of the bill
with one hand and of both legs with the other ; pull with reasonable force to get the curve all
out of the neck ; hold the bird thus with the tip of the bill flush with one end of the ruler, and
see where the end of the tail points. Put the tape-line in place of the ruler, in the same way,
for larger birds. " Extent: " Distance between the tips of the outspread wings. They must
he fully outstretched, with the bird on its back, crosswise on the ruler, its bill pointing to your
breast. Take hold of right and left metacarpus with the thumb and forefinger of your left and
right hand respectively, stretch with reasonable force, getting one wing-tip flush with one end
of the ruler, and see how much the other wing-tip reaches. With large birds pull away as
hard as you please, and use the table, floor, or side of the room ; mark the points and apply
tape-line. " Length of wing : " Distance fi-om the carpal angle formed at the bend of the
wing to the end of the longest primary. Get it with compasses for small birds. In birds with
a convex wing, do not lay the tape-line over the curve, but under the wing in a straight line.
This measurement is the one called, for short, " the wing." ^'Length of tail : '' Distance

MATERIALS FOR PREPARING BIRDSKINS. 25

from the roots of the rectrices to the end of the longest one. Feel for the pope's nose; in either
a fresh or dried specimen there is more or less of a palpable lump into which the taU-feathers
stick. Guess as near as you can to the middle of this lump; jjlace the end of the ruler opposite
this point, and see where the tip of the longest taU-feather comes. " Length of hill: " Some
take the curve of the upper mandible ; others the side of the upper mandible from the feathers ;
others the gape, etc. I take the chord of the culmen. Place one ft)ot of the dividers on the
culmen just where the feathers end ; no matter whether the culmen runs up on the forehead, or
the frontal feathers run out on the culmen, and no matter whether the culmen is straight or
curved. Then with me the length of the bill is the shortest distance from the point just indi-
cated to the tip of the upper mandible ; measure it with the dividers. In a straight bill of
course it is the length of the culmen itself ; in a curved bill, however, it is quite another thing.
" Length of tarsus : " Distance between the joint of the tarsus with the leg above, and that
with the first phalanx of the middle toe below. Measure it always with dividers, and in front
of the leg. ^^ Length of toes: " Distance in a straight line along the upper surface of a toe
from the point last indicated to the root of the claw on top. Length of toe is to be taken
without the claw, unless othenvise specified. '^Length of the claws : " Distance in a straight line
from the point last indicated to the tip of the claw. " Length of head ^^ is often a convenient
dimension for comparison with the bill. Set one foot of the dividers over the base of the culmen
(determined as above) and allow the other to slip snugly down over the arch of the occiput.

§6. — INSTRUMENTS, MATERIALS, AND FIXTURES FOR PREPARING BIRDSKINS.

Instruments. — The only indispensable instrument is a pair of scissors or a knife ;
although practically you want both of these, a pair of spring forceps, and a knitting-needle, or
some similar wooden or ivory object, yet I have made hundreds of birdskins consecutively
n'ithout touching another tool. '^ Persicos odi, puer, apparatus!" I always mistrust the
einphasis of a collector who makes a flourish of instruments. You might be surprised to see
what a meagre, shabby-looking kit our best taxidennists work with. Stick to your scissors,
knife, fc^rceps, and needle. But you may as well buy, at the outset, a common dissecting-case,
just what medical students begin business with ; it is very cheap, and if there are some unneces-
sary things in it, it makes a nice little box in which to keep your tools. The case contains,
among other things, several scalpels, just the knives you want ; a " cartilage-knife," which is
nothing but a stout scalpel, suitable for large birds ; the best kind of scissors for your purpose,
with short blades and long handles — if "kneed "at the hinge so much the better; spring
forceps, the very thing ; a blow-pipe, useful in many ways and answering well for a knitting-
needle ; and some little steel-hooks, chained together, which you may want to use. But you
will also require, for large birds, a very heavy pair of scissors, or small shears, short-bladed
and long-handled, and a stout pair of bone-nippers. Have some pins and needles ; surgical
needles, which cut instead of punching, are the best. Get a hone or strop, if you wish, and a
feather duster. Use of scissors requires no comment, and I would urge their habitual employ
instead of the knife-blade ; I do nine-tenths of my cutting with scissors, and find it much the
easiest. A double-lever is twice as efi'ective as a single one, and besides, you gain in cutting
soft, yielding substances by opposing two blades. Moreover, scalpels need constant sharpen-
ing ; mine are generally too dull to cut much with, and I suppose I am like other people —
while scissors stay sharp enough. Tlie flat, thin ivory or ebony handle of the scalpel is about
as useful as the blade. Finger-nails, which were made before scalpels, are a mighty help.
Forceps are almost indispensable for seizing and holding parts too small or too remote to be
grasped by the fingers. The knitting-needle is wanted for a specific purpose noted beyond.
The shears or nippers are only needed for what the ordinary scissors are too weak to do. Our
instruments, you see now, are " a short horse soon curried."

26 FIELD OBNITHOLOGY.

Materials. — (a.) For stuffing. ''What do you stuff 'em with?'" is usually the first
question of idle curiosity about taxidermy, as if that were the great point; whereas, the stuffing
is so small a matter that I generally reply, "anything, except brickbats ! " But if stuffing
birds were the final cause of Cotton, that admirable substance could not be more perfectly
adapted than it is to the purpose. Ordinary raw cotton-batting or wadding is what you want.
When I can get it I never think of using anything else for small birds. I would use it for all
birds were expense no object. Here tow comes in ; there is a fine, clean, bleached article of
tow prepared for surgical dressings ; this is the best, but any will do. Some say chop your
tow fine ; this is harmless, but unnecessary. A crumpled newspaper, wrapped with tow, is
first-rate for a large bird. Failing cotton or tow, any soft, light, dry, vegetable substance may
be made to answer, — rags, paper, crumbled leaves, fine dried grass, soft fibrous inner bark,
etc. ; the down of certain plants, as thistle and silkweed, makes an exquisite filling for small
birds. But I will qualify my remark about brickbats by saying : never put hair, wool, feathers,
or any other animal substance in a birdsJcin ; far better leave it empty : for, as we shall see in
the sequel, bugs come fast enough, \Aathout being invited into a snug nest, (b.) For preserv-
ing. Arsenic, — not the pure metal properly so called, but arsenic of the shops, or arsenious
acid, — is the great preser\'ative. Use dry powdered arsenic, plenty of it, and nothing else.
There is no substitute for arsenic worthy of the name, and no preparation of arsenic so good as
the simple substance. Various kinds of " arsenical soap" were and may still be in vogue;
it is a nasty greasy substance, not fit to handle; and although efficacious enough, there is a
very serious hygienic objection to its use.^ Arsenic, I need not say, is a violent irritant poison,
and must therefore be duly guarded, but may be used with perfect impunity. It is a very
heavy substance, not appreciably volatile at ordinary temperatures, and therefore not liable,
as some suppose, to be breathed, to any perceptible, much less injurious, extent. It will not
even at once enter the pores of healthy unbroken skin ; so it is no matter if it gets on the fingers.
The exceedingly minute quantity that may be supposed to find its way into the system in the
course of time is believed by many competent physicians to be rather beneficial as a tonic. I
will not conmiit myself to this ; for, though I have never felt better than when working daily
with arsenic, I do not know how much my health was improved by the out-door exercise
always taken at the same time. The simple precautions are, not to let it lie too long in con-
tact with the skin, nor get into an abrasion, nor under the nails. It will convert a scratch or
cut into a festering sore of some little severity ; while if lodged under the nails it soon shows
itself by soreness, increased by pressure ; a white speck appears, then a tiny abscess forms, dis-
charges and gets well in a few days. Your precautions really respect other persons more than
yourself; the receptacle should be conspicuously labelled "POISON!" Arsenic is a good
friend of ours : besides preserving our birds, it keeps busybodies and meddlesome folks away
from the scene of operations, by raising a wholesome suspicion of the taxidermist's surround-
ings. It may be kept in the tin pots in which it is usually sold ; but some shallower, broader
receptacle is more convenient. A little drawer say 6x6 inches, and an inch deep, to slip
under the edge of the table, or a similar compartment in a large drawer, wUl be found handy.
A salt-spoon, or little wooden shovel whittled like one, is nice to use it with, though in effect,
I always shovel it up with the handle of a scalpel. As stated, there is no substitute for arsenic;

1 "Strange as it may appear to some, I would say avoid especially all the so-called arsenical soaps ; they
are at best but filthy preparations ; besides, it is a fact to which I can bear jiainful testimony that they are,
especially when applied to a greasy skin, poisonous in the extreme. 1 have been so biidly poisoned, while working
upon the skins of some fat water birds that had been prepared with arsenical soap, as to be made seriously ill, the
poison having worked into the system through some small wounds or scratches on my hand. Had pure arsenic
been used in iireparing the skins, the eftect would not have been as bad, although grease and arsenic are generally
a blood-poison in some degree ; but when combined with ' soap ' the effect, at least as far as my experience goes,
is much more injurious." (Maynard, Guide, p. 12.) In endorsing this, I would add that tlie combination is the
more poisonous, in all probability, simply because the soap, being detersive, mechanically facilitates the entrance
of the poison, without, however, chemically increasing its virulence.

MATERIALS FOB PREPARING BIRDSKINS. 27

but at a pinch you can make temporary shift with the following, among other articles: — table
salt, or saltpetre, or charcoal strewn plentifully ; strong solution of corrosive sublimate, brushed
over the skin inside ; creosote ; impure carbolic acid ; these last two are quite efficacious, but
they smell horribly for an indefinite period. A bird threatening to decompose before you can
get at it to skin, may be saved for a wliile by squirting weak carbolic acid or creosote down the
throat and up the fundament ; or by disembowelling, and filling the cavity with powdered
charcoal, (c.) For cleansing. Gypsum is an almost indispensable material for cleansing
soiled plumage. " Gypsum " is properly native hydrated sulphate of lime ; the article referred
to is " plaster of Paris" or gypsum heated up to 260° F. (by which the water of crystalliza-
tion is driven ofi") and then finely pulverized. When mixed with water it soon solidifies, the
original hydrate being again formed. The mode of using it is indicated beyond. It is most
conveniently kept in a shallow tray, say a foot square, and an inch or two deep, which had
better, furthermore, slide under the table as a drawer ; or form a compartment of a larger
drawer. Keep gypsum and arsenic in different-looking receptacles, not so much to keep from
poisoning yourself, as to keep from not poisoning a birdskin. They look much alike, and
skinning becomes such a mechanical process that you may get hold of the wrong article when
your thoughts are wandering in the woods. Gypsum, like arsenic, has no worthy rival in its
own field ; some substitutes, in the order of their applicability, are : — corn-meal, probably the
best thing after gypsum; calcined magnesia (very good, but too light — it floats in the air,
and makes you cougli) ; bicarbonate of magnesia; powdered chalk ("prepared chalk," cj-eta
praparata of the drug shops, is the best kind) ; fine wood-ashes ; clean dry loam. No article,
however powdery when dry, that contains a glutinous principle, as for instance gum-arabic or
flour, is admissible, {d.) For wrapping, you want a thin, pliable, strong paper ; water-closet
paper is the very best; newspaper is pretty good. For making the cones or cylinders in
which birdskins may be set to dry, a stiffer article is required ; writing paper answers perfectly.

Naturalists habitually carry a Pocket Lens, much as other people do a watch. You
will find a magnifying glass very convenient in your search for the sexual organs of small
birds when obscure, as they frequently are, out of the breeding season ; in picking lice from
plumage, to send to your entomological friend, who will very likely pronounce them to be of a
" new species ; " and for other purposes.

Fixtures. When travelling, your fixtures must ordinarily be limited to a coUecting-
chest ; you will have to skin birds on the top of this, on the tail-board of a wagon, or on your
lap, as the case may be. The chest should be very substantial — iron-bound is best ; strong
as to hinges and lock — and have handles. A good size is 30 x 18 x 18 inches. Let it be
fitted with a set of trays; the bottom one say four inches deep; the rest shallower; the top
one very shallow, and divided into compartments for your tools and materials, unless you fix
these on the under side of the lid. Start out with all the trays full of cotton or tow. At
home, have a room to yourself, if possible ; taxidermy makes a mess to which your wife may
object, and arsenic must not come in the way of children. At any rate have your own table.
I prefer plain deal that may be scrubbed when required ; great cleanliness is indispensable,
especially when dcnng much work in hot weather, for the place soon smells sour if neglected.
I use no special receptacle for oftal, for this only makes another article to be cleaned ; lay
down a piece of paper 'for the refuse, and throw the whole away. A perfectly smooth surface
is desirable. I generally have a large pane of window-glass on the table before me. It will
really be found advantageous to have a scale of inches scratched on the edge of the table ; only
a small part of it need be fractionally subdivided ; this n>places the foot-rule and tape-line,
just as the tacks of a dry-goods counter answer for tlie yardstick. You will find it worth while
to rig some sijrt of a derrick arranginnent, which you cim readily devise, on mie end of the

28 FIELD ORNITHOLOGY.

table, to hitch your hook to, if you hang your birds up to skin them ; they should swing clear
of everything. The table should have a large general drawer, with a little drawer for gypsum
and arsenic already mentioned, unless these be kept elsewhere. Stuffing may be kept iu a box
under the table, and make a nice footstool ; or in a bag slung to the table leg.

Query : Have you cleansed the bird's plumage ? Have you plugged the mouth, nostrils,
and ventf Have you measured the specimen and noted the color of the eyes, bill, and feet,
and prepared the labels, and made the entry in the register ? Have you got all your apparatus
within arm's length f Then we are ready to proceed.

§7. — HOW TO MAKE A BIRDSKIN.
a. The Regular Process.

Lay the Bird on its Back, the bill pointing to your right ^ elbow. Take the scalpel like
a pen, with edge of blade uppermost, and run a straight furrow through the feathers along the
middle line of the belly, from end of the breast-bone to the vent. Part the feathers com-
pletely, and keep them parted.^ Observe a strip of skin either perfectly naked, or only cov-
ered with short down ; this is the line for incision. Take scissors, stick in the pointed blade
just over the end of the breast- bone, cut in a straight line thence to and into the vent; cut
extremely shallow.^

Take the forceps in your left band, and scalpel in your right, both held pen-wise, and with
the forceps seize and Uft up one of the edges of the cut skin, gently pressing away the belly-
walls with the scalpel-point ; no cutting is required ; the skin may be peeled off without trouble.
Skin away till you meet an obstacle ; it is the thigh. Lay down the instruments ; with your
left hand take hold of the leg outside at the shank ; put your right forefinger under the raised
flap <.»f skin, and feel a bump ; it is the hnee ; push up the leg till this bump comes into view ;
hold it so. Take the scissors iu your right hand ; tuck one blade under the concavity of the
knee, and sever the joint at a stroke; then the thigh is left with the rest of the body, w'hile
the rest of the leg is dissevered and hangs only by skin. Push the leg further up till it has
Slipped out of its sheath of skin, like a finger out of a glove, down to the heel-joint. You
have now to clear off the flesh and leave the bone there ; you may scrape tUl this is done,
but there is a better way. Stick the closed points of the scissors in among the muscles just
below the head of the bone, then separate the blades just wide enough to grasp the bone;
snip oft" its head ; draw the head to one side ; all the muscles follow, being there attached ;
strip them doivnward from the bone ; the bone is left naked, with the muscle hanging by a
bundle of tendons ("leaders") at its foot; sever these tendons collectively at a stroke. This
whole performance will occupy about three seconds, after practice ; and you may soon discover
you can nick off the head of the bone of a small bird with the thumb-nail. Draw the leg bone
back into its sheath, and leave it. Repeat all the foregoing steps on the other side of the bird.
If you are bothered by the skin-flaps settling against the belly-walls, insert a fluff of cotton.

» Reverse this and following directions for positkm, if you are left-handed.

2 The motion is exactly like stroking the right and left sides of a moustache apart ; you would never dress
the hairs smoothly away from the middle line, by poking from ends to root ; nor will the feathers stay aside,
unless stroked away from base to tips.

8 The skin over the belly is thin as tissue paper in a small bird; the chances are you will at first cut the
walls of the belly too, opening the cavity; this is no great matter, for a pledget of cotton will keep the bowels in;
nevertheless, try to divide skin only. Reason for cutting into vent: this orifice makes a nice natural termination
of the incision, buttonhole-wise, and may keep the end of the cut from tearing around the root of the tail. Reason
for beginning to cut over the edge of the sternum: the muscular walls of the belly are very thin, and stick so close
to the skin that you may be in danger of attempting to remove them with the skin, instead of removing the skin
from them ; whereas, you cannot remove anything but skin from over the breast bone, so you have a guide at the
start. You can tell skin from belly-wall, by its livid, translucent whitishness instead of redness.

HOW TO MAKE A BIRD SKIN. 29

Keep the feathers out of the wound ; cotton and the moustache movement will do it. Next you
must sever the tail from the body, leaving a small " pope's-nose " for the feathers to stay stuck
into. Put the bird in the hollow of your lightly closed left hand, tail upward, belly toward you;
or, if too large for this, stand it on its breast on the table in similar position. Throw your
left forefinger across the front of the tail, pressing a little backward ; take the scissors, cut the
end of the lower bowel free first, then peck away at bone and muscle with cautious snips, till
the tail-stump is dissevered from the rump, and the tail hangs only by skin. You will soon
learn to do it all at one stroke ; but you cannot be too careful at first ; you are cutting right
down on to the skin over the top of the pope's-nose, and if you divide this, the bird will part
company \nth its tail altogether. Now you have the rump-stump protruding naked ; the legs
dangling on either side ; the tail hanging loose over the bird's back between them. Lay down
scissors, take up forceps^ in your left hand; with them seize and hold the stump of the rump ;
and with point or handle of scalpel in the other hand, with finger-tips, or with thumb-nail
(best), gently press down on and peel away skin.^ No cutting will be required (usually) tiU
you come to the wings : the skin peels off (usually) as easily as an orange-rind ; as fast as it
is loosened, evert it ; that is make it continually turn itself more and more completely inside
out. Work thus till you are stopped by the obtruding wings. ^ You have to sever the wing
from the body at the shoulder, just as you did the leg at the knee, and leave it hanging by
skin alone. Take your scissors,* as soon as the upper arm is exposed, and cut through flesh
and bone alike at one stroke, a little below (outside of) the shoulder-joint. Do the same with
the other wing. As soon as the wings are severed the body has been skinned to the root of
the neck ; the process becomes very easy ; the neck almost slips out of its sheath of itself; and
if you have properly attended to keeping the feathers out of the wound and to continual ever-
sion of the skin, you now find you have a naked body connected dumb-bell-wise by a naked
neck to a cap of reversed skin into which the head has disappeared, from the inside of which
the legs and wings dangle, and around the edges of which is a row of plumage and a tail.^
Here comes up an important consideration : the skin, plumage, legs, wings, and tail together
weigh something, — enough to stretch ^ unduly the skin of the neck, fi-om the small cylinder of
which they are now suspended : the whole mass must be supported. For small birds, gather
it in the hollow of your left hand, letting the body swing over the back of your hand out of the

1 Or at this stage you may instead stick a hook into a firm part of the rump, and hang up the bird about
the level of your breast ; you thus have both hands free to work with. This is advisable with all birds too large
to be readily taken in hand, and will help you, at first, with any bird But there is really no use of it with a small
bird, and you may as well learn the best way of working at first as afterward.

2 The idea of the whole movement is exactly like ungloving your hand from the wrist, by turning the glove
inside out to the very finger tips. Some people say, pull ofi" the skin ; I say never pull a bird's skin under any cir-
cumstances : piish it off, always operating at lines of contact of skin with body, never upon areas of skins already
detached.

3 The elbows will get in your way before you reach the point of attack, namely, the shoulder, unless the
wings were completely relaxed (as was essential, indeed, if you measured alar expanse correctly). Think what a
<lifference it would make, were you skinning a man through a slit in the belly, whether his arms were stretched
above his head, or pinned against his ribs. It is just the same with a bird. When properly relaxed the wings
are readily pressed away toward the bird's head, so that the shoulders are encountered before the elbows.

< Shears will be required to crash through a large arm-bone. Or, you may with the scalpel unjolnt the
shoulder. The joint will be found higher up and deeper among the breast muscles than you might suppose,
unless you are used to carving fowls at table. With a small bird, you may snap the bone with the thumb-nail
and tear asunder the muscles in an instant.

5 You find that the little straight cut you made along the belly has somehow become a hole larger than the
greatest girth of the bird ; be undismayed ; it is all right.

If you have up to this point properly pushed off the skin instead of pulling it, there is as yet probably no
stretching of any consequence; but, in skinning the head, which comes next, it is almost impossible for a beginner
to avoid stretching to an extent involving great damage to the good looks of a skin. Try your utmost, by delicacy
of manipulation at the lines of contact of skin with flesh, and only there, to prevent lengtlurise stretching. Cross-
wise aistension is of no consequence; in fact more or less of it is usually required to skin the head, and it tends
to counteract the ill effect of undue elongation.

30 FIELD OBNITHOLOGY.

way ; for large ones, rest the afiair on the table or your lap. To skin the head, secure the
hody in the position just indicated, by confining the neck between your left thumb and fore-
finger ; bring the right fingers and thumb to a cone over the head, and draw it out with gentle
force; or, holding the head itself between the left thumb and forefinger, insert the handle of
the scalpel between the skin and skull, and pry a little, to enlarge the neck-cylinder of skin
enough to let the head pass. It will generally^ slip out of its hood very readily, as far as its
greatest diameter ; ^ there it sticks, being in fact pinned by the ears. Still holding the bird as
before, with the point of the scalpel handled like a nut-picker, or with your thumb-nail, detach
the delicate membrane that lines the ear-opening ; do the same for the other ear. The skull is
then shelled out to the eyes, and will skin no further of its own accord, being again attached
by a membrane, around the border of the eye-socket. Holding the scalpel as before, run its
edge around an arc (a semicircle is enough to let you into the orbit) of the circumference, dis-
severing the membrane from the bone. Reverse the scalpel, and scoop out the eyeball with
the end of the handle ; you bring out the eye betwixt the ball of your thumb and the handle
of the instrument, tearing apart the optic nerve and the conjunctival tissue, but taking care
not to open the eyeball^ or lacerate the eyelids. Do the same with the other eye. The head
is then skinned far enough ; there is no use of getting quite to the base of the bill. You have
now to get rid of the brain and flesh of the nape and jaws,* and leave most of the skuU in ; the
cranial dome makes the only perfect "stuffing" fur the skin of the head. This is all done at once
by only four particular cuts. Hold the head between your left thumb and fingers, the bill point-
ing towards you, the bird's palate facing you ; you observe a space bounded behind by the base
of the skull where the neck joins, in front by the floor of the mouth, on either side by the prongs
of the under jaw, — these last especially pn)minent. Take the scissors ; stick one blade just
inside one branch of the lower jaw, thence into the eye-socket which lies below (the head
being upside down), thence into the brain-box ; make a cut parallel with the jaw, just inside
of it, bringing the upper scissor blade perpendicularly downward, crashing through the skuU just
inside of the angle of the jaw. Duplicate this cut on the other side. Connect the anterior
ends of these cuts by a transverse one across the floor and roof of the mouth. Connect the
posterior ends of the side cuts by one across the back of the skuU near its base, — just where
the nape-muscle ceases to override the cranium. You have enclosed and cut out a squarish-
shaped mass of bone and muscle, and, on gently pulling the neck (to which of course it
remains attached), the whole affair comes out, bringing the brain with it, but leaving the
entire roof of the skull supported on a scafiblding of jaw-bone. It only remains to skin the
wings. Seize the arm-stump with fingers or forceps ; the upper arm is readily drawn from its
sheath as far as the elbow; but the wing must be skinned to the wrist (carpus — "bend of
the wing ") ; yet it wiU not come out so easily, because the secondary quills grow to one of the
fore-arm bones (the ulna), pinning down the skin the whole way along a series of points. To
break up these connections, hold the upper arm firmly with the left thumb and forefinger, the
convexity of the elbow looking towards you ; press the right thumb-nail closely against the
back edge of the ulna, and strip downward, scraping the bone with the nail the whole way.
If you only hit the line of adhesions, there is no trouble at all about this. Now you want to

1 The special case of head too large for the calibre of the neck is treated beyond.

- And you will at once find a great apparent increase of amount of free skin in your hand, owing to release
and extension of all that was before shortened in length by circular distension, in enlargement of the neck-
cylinder.

3 An eyeball is much larger than it looks from the outside ; if you stick the instrument straight into the
socket, you may punch a hole in the ball and let out the water; a very disagreeable complication. Insinuate the
knife-handle close to the rim of the socket, and hug the wall of the cavity throughout.

* You may of course at this stage cut off the neck at the nape, punch a hole in the base of the skull, dig out
the brains, and scrape away at the jaw-muscles till you are satisfied or tired ; an unnecessary job, during which
the skin may have become <lry and shrivelled and hard to turn right side out. The operation described in the
text may require ten seconds, perhaps.

HOW TO MAKE A BIRDSKIN. 31

leave in one of the two fore-arm bones, to preserve sufficiently the shape of the limb, but to
remove the other, with the upper-arm bone and all the flesh. It is done in a moment : stick the
point of the scissors between the heads of the two fore-arm bones, and cut the hinder one (ulna)
away from the elbow; then the other fore-arm bone (radius), bearing on its near end the
elbow and the whole upper arm, is to be stripped away from the ulna, taking with it the flesh
of the fore-arm, and to be cut off at its far end close to the wrist -joint, one stroke severing the
bone and all the tendons that pass over the wrist to the hand ; then the ulna, bare of flesh,
is alone left in, attached at the wrist. Draw gently on the wing from the outside till it slips
into the natural position whence you everted it. Do the same for the other wing. This
finishes the skinning process. The skin is now to be turned right side out. Begin any way
you please, till you see the point of the bill reappearing among the feathers ; seize it with
fingers or forceps, as convenient, and use it for gentle traction. But by no means pull it out
by holding on to the rear end of the skin — that would infallibly stretch the skin. Holding
the bill, make a cylinder of your left hand and coax the skin backward with a sort of milking
motion. It will come easily enough, until the final stage of getting the head back into its
skull-cap ; this may require some little dexterity ; but you cannot fail to get the head in, if
you remember what you did to get it out. When this is fairly accomplished, you for the first
time have the pleasure of seeing something that looks like a birdskin. Your next ^ care is to
apply arsenic. Lay the skin on its back, the opening toward you and wide '=pread, so the
interior is in view. Run the scalpel-handle into the neck to dilate that cylinder until you can
see the skull; find your way to the orifices of the legs and wings; expose the pope's-nose;
thus you have not only the general skin surface, but all the points where some traces of flesh
were left, fairly in view. Shovel in arsenic ; dump some down the neck, making sure it reaches
and plentifully besprinkles the whole skull ; drop a little in each wing hole and leg hole ;
leave a small pile at the root of the tail ; strew some more over the skin at large. The simple
rule is, put in as much arsenic as will stick anywhere. Then close the opening, and shake up
the skin ; move the head about by the bill ; rustle the wings and move the legs ; this distrib-
utes the poison thoroughly. If you have got in more than is necessary, as you may judge by
seeing it piled up dry, anywhere, hold the skin with the opening downward over the poison-
drawer, and give it a flip and let the supei-fluous powder fall out. Now for the "make up,"
upon which the beauty of the preparation depends. First get the empty skin into good shape.
Let it lie on its back ; draw it straight out to its natural length. See that the skin of the
head fits snugly ; that the eyes, ears, and jaws are in place. Expand the wings to make sure
that the bone is in place, and fold them so that the quills override each other naturally ; set the
tail-feathers shinglewise also ; draw Aown the legs and leave them straddling wide apart.
Give the plumage a preliminary dressing ; if the skin is free from kinks and creases, the feath-
ers come naturally into phice ; particular ones that may be awry should be set right, as may
be generally done by stroking, or by lifting thern free repeatedly, and letting them fall ; if any
(through carelessness) remain turned into the opening, they should be carefully picked out.
Remove all traces of gypsum or arsenic with the feather duster. The stulfing is to be put in
through the opening in the beUy ; the art is to get in just enough, in the right places. It
would never do to push in pellets of cotton, as you would stuff a pillow-case, till the skin is
filled up ; no subsequent skill in setting could remove the distortion that would result. It
takes just four'^ pieces of stuffing — one for each eye, one for the neck, and one for the body;

1 Some direct the poisoning to be done while the skin is still wrong side out; and it may be very thoroughly
efiected at that stage. I wait, because the arsenic generally strews over the table in the operation of reversing
the skin, if you use as much as I think advisable; and it is better to have a cavity to put it into than a surface to
strew it on.

2 For any ordinary bird up to the size of a crow. It is often directed that the leg-bones and wing-bones b«
wrapped with cotton or tow. I should not think of putting anything around the wing-bones of any bird up to the
size of an eagle, owan, or pelican. Examination of a skinned wing will show how extremely compact it is, except

32 FIELD ORNITHOLOGY.

while it requires rather less than half as much stuffiug as an inexperienced person inighl
suppose. Take a shred of cotton that will make a tight ball as large as the bird's eye ; stick
it on the end of your knitting-needle, and by twirling the needle whilst the cotton is confined
in your finger tips, you make a neat ball. Introduce this through the belly-opening, into
the eye-socket ; if you have cut away skull enough, as already directed, it will go right
in; disengage the needle with a reverse twirl, and withdraw it. Take hold of the bill with
one hand, and with the forceps in the other, dress tlie eyelids neatly and naturally over
the elastic substance within. Repeat for the other eye. Take next a shred of cotton that
will roll into a firm cylinder rather less than the size of the bird's neck. Roil it on the
needle much as you did the eye-ball, introduce it in the same way, and ram it firmly into
the base of the skull ; disengage the needle by twirling it the other way, and withdraw it,
taking care not to dislodge the cotton neck. If now you peep into the skin you wiU see
the end of this artificial neck ; push it up against the skin of the breast, — it must not lie
down on the back between the shoulders.^ The body- wad comes next; you want to
imitate the size and shape of the bird's trunk. Take a mass of cotton you think will be
■enough, and take about half oi this; that wiU be plenty (cotton is very elastic). It should
make a tolerably firm ball, rather egg-shaped, swelling at the breast, smaller behind. If you
simply squeeze up the cotton, it wUl not stay compressed ; it requires a motion something
like that which bakers employ to knead dough into the shape of a loaf. Keep tucking
over the borders of the cotton till the desired shape and firmness are attained. Insert the ball
between the blades of the forceps in such way that the instrument confines the folded-over
edges, and with a wriggling motion insinuate it aright into the body. Before relaxing
the forceps, put your thumb and forefinger in the bird's armpits, and pincii the shoulders
together tUl they almost touch ; this is to make sure that there is no stuffing between the
shoulders, — the whole mass lying breastwards. Loosen the forceps and withdraw them. If
the ball is rightly made and tucked in, the elasticity of the cotton will chiefly expend itself in
puffing out the breast, which is just what is wanted. Be careful not to push the body too far
in ; if it impacts against the skin of the neck, this will infallibly stretch, di-iviug the shoulders
apart, and no art wiU remedy the unsightly gape resulting. You see I dwell on this matter of
the shoulders ; the whole knack of stuffing correctly focuses just over the shoulders. If you find
you have made the body too large, pull it out and make a smaller one ; if it fits nicely about
the shoulders, but is too long to go in, or too puffy over the belly, let it stay, and pick away
shreds at the open end tiU the redundancy is remedied. Your bird is now sturfed. Close the
opening by bringing the edges of the original cut together. There is no use of sewing ^ up
the cut, for a small bird ; if the stuffing is correct, the feathers will hide the opening ; and if they
do not, it is no matter. You are not making an object for a show case, but /or a naturalist's

just at the shoulder. What you remove will never make any difference from the outside, whue you would almost
inevitably get in too much, not of the right shape, and make an awkward bulging no art. would remedy ; I say,
then, leave the wings of all but the largest birds empty, and put in very little under any circumstances. As for
legs, the whole host of small perching birds need no wrapping whatever; depend upon it you will make a nicer
skin without wrapping. But large birds and those with very muscular or otherwise prominent legs must have
the removal of flesh compensated for I treat of these cases beyond.

1 Although a bird's neck is really, of course, in direct continuation of the back-bone, yet the natural .sigmoid
curve of the neck is such that it virtually takes departure rather from the breast, its lower curve being received
between the prongs of the merrythought. This is what we must imitate instead of the true anatomy. If you let
the end of the neck lie between the shoulders, it will infallibly press them apart, so that the interscapular plumage
cannot shingle over the scapular feathers as it should, and a gaping place, showing down or even naked skin,
will result. Likewise if the neck be made too large (the chances are that way, at first), the same result follows.
These seemingly trifling points are very important indeed; I never made a decent birdskin till I learned to get the
neck small enough and to shove the end of it against the breast.

"- But sew it up, if you please, though you may be perhaps giving the man who subsequently mounts the
bird the trouble of ripping out the stitches. Stitches, however, will not come amiss with a large bird. I generally,
In such cases, pin the edges of the cut in one or more places.

HOW TO 3IAKE A BIRDSKIN. 33

cabinet. Supposing you to have been so far successful, little remains to be done ; the skin
already looks very much like a dead bird ; you have only to give the finishing touches, and
"set" it. Fixing the wings nicely is a great point. Fold each wing closely; see that the
carpal bend is well defined, that the coverts show their several oblique rows perfectly, that all
the quiUs ovemde each other like shingles. Tuck the folded wings close up to the body —
rather on the bird's back than along its sides ; see that the wing tips meet over the tail (under
the tail as the bird lies on its back) ; let the carpal angle nestle in the plumage ; have the
shoulders close together, so that the interscapulars shingle over the scapulars. If the wing be
pressed in too tightly, the scapulars will rise up on end ; there must be neither furrow nor
ridge about the insertion of the wings; everything must lie perfectly smooth. At this stage
of tlie process, I generally lift up the skin gingerly, and let it slip head first through one hand
after the other, pressing liere or there to correct a deformity, or uniformly to make the whole
skin compact. The wings set, next bring the legs together, so that the bones within the
skin lie parallel with each other; bend the heel-joint a little, to let the tarsi cross each other
about their middle; lay them sid(!wise on the tail, so that the naturally flexed toes lie flat, all
the claws mutually facing each other. See that the neck is perfectly straight, and, if anything,
shortened rather than outstretched; have the crown of the head flat on the table, the bill point-
ing straight forward, ^ the mandibles shut tightly.'^ Never attempt any "fancy" attitudes with
a birdskin; the simpler and more compactly it is made up the better.^ Finally, I say, hang
over your bird (if you have time) ; dress better the feathers that were well dressed before ;
perfect every curve ; finish caressingly, and put it away tenderly, as you hope to be shriven
yourself when the time comes.

There are several ways of laying a birdskin. A common, easy, and slovenly \A-ay is to
thrust it head first into a paper cone; but it makes a hollow-chested, pot-bellied object,
unpleasant to see, and renders your nice work on the make-up futile. A paper cylinder,
corresponding in calibre to the greatest girth of the birdskin, binds the wings well, and makes
a good ordinary specimen, — perhaps better than the average. Remarking that there are some
detestable practices, such as hanging up a bird by a string through the nose (methods only to
be mentioned to be condemned), I will tell you the easiest and best way, by which the most
elegant and tasteful results are almost necessarily secured. The skins are simply laid away
in cotton, just as they come from your hands. Take a considerable wad of cotton, make a
" bed" of it, lay the specimen in, and tuck it up nicely around the edges. In efiect, I gener-
ally take a thin sheet of cotton wadding, the sizing of which confers some textile consistency,
and wrap the bird completely but lightly in it. By loosening or tightening a trifle here or
there, laying down a " pillow" or other special slight pressure, the most delicate contour-lines
may be preserved with perfect fidelity. Unnecessary pother is sometimes made about dnjing

' Exceptions. Woodpeckers, ducks, and some other birds treated of beyond, are best set witli tlie head flat
on one side, the bill pointing obliquely to the right or left; owls, with the bill pointing straight up in the air as
the bird lies on its back.

2 If the mandibles gape, run a thread through the nostrils and tie it tightly under the bill. Or, since this
injures the nostrils (and we frequently want to examine their structure) stick a pin in under the bill close to the
gonys, driving it obliquely into the palate. Sometimes the skin of the throat looks sunken betwixt the sides of the
jaw. A shred of cotton introduced with forceps through the mouth will obviate this.

3 Don't cock up the head, trying to impart a knowing air — it cannot be done, and only makes the poor bird
look ridiculous. Don't lay the skin on one side, with the legs in perching position, and don't spread the wings —
the bird will never perch nor fly again, and the suggestion is unartistic because incongruous. The only permis-
sible departure from the rule of severe simplicity is when some special ornament, as a tine crest, may be naturally
displayed, or some hidden markings are desired to be brought out, or a shape of tail or wing to be perpetuated ;
but in all such cases the "flowery" inclination should be sparingly and judiciously indulged. It is, however,
frequently desirable to give some special set to hide a defect, as loss of plumage, etc. ; this may often be accom-
plished very cunningly, with excellent result. No rules for this can be laid down, since the details vary in every
case; but in general the weak spot may be liid<ien by contracting the skin of the place, and then setting the bird
in an attitude that naturally corresponds, thus making a virtue of necessity.

34 FIELB OENITHOLOGY.

skins ; the fact being that under ordinary circumstances they could not he kept from drying
perfectly ; and they dry in exactly the shape they are set, if not accidentally pressed upon. At
sea, however, or during unusually protracted wet weather, they of course dry slowly, and may
require some attention to prevent mildew or souring, especially in the cases of very large,
thick-skinned, or greasy specimens. Thorough poisoning, and drying by a fire, or placing
in the sun, will always answer. Very close packing retards drying. When travelling, or
operating under other circumstances requiring economy of space, you must not expect to
turn out your collection in elegant order. Perfection of contour-lines can only be secured by
putting each spechnen away by itself ; undue pressure is always liable to produce unhappily
outre configuration of a skin. Trays in a packing box are of great service in limiting possi-
bilities of pressure ; they should be shallow ; one four inches deep will take a well stufi'ed hen-
hawk, for example, or accommodate from three to six spaiTows a-top of one another. It is-
well to sort out your specimens somewhat according to size, to keep heavy ones oft' little ones ;
though the chinks around the former may usually be economized with advantage by packing
in the less valuable or the less neatly prepared of the latter. When limited to a travelling
chest, I generally pass in the skins as fast as made, packing them '' solid " in one sense, yet
hunting up a nice resting-place for each. If each rests in its own cotton coffin, it is astonishing
how close they may be laid without hann, and how many will go in a given space ; a tray
30 X 18 X 4 inches will easily hold three hundred and fifty birds six inches long. As a tray fills-
up, the drier ones first put in may be submitted to more pressure. A skin originally dried in
good shape may subsequently be pressed perfectly flat without material injury ; the only thing
to avoid being contortion. The whole knack of packing birds corresponds to that of filling a
trunk solidly full of clothes, as may easily be done without damage to an immaculate shirt-
front. Finally, I would say, never put away a bird unlabelled, not even for an hour; you may
forget it or die. Never tie a label to a bird's bill, wing, or tail ; tie it securely to loth legs
where they cross, and it will be just half as liable to become detached as if tied to one leg only.
Never paste a label, or even a number, on a bird's plumage. Never put in glass eyes before
mounting. Never paint or varnish a bird's bill or feet. Never replace missing plumage of one
bird with the feathers of another — no, not even if the birds came out of the same nest.

h. Special Processes; Complications and Accidents.
The Foregoing Method of procedure is a routine practice applicable to three-fourths if
not nine-tenths of the " general run ■'' of birds. But there are several cases requiring a modi-
fication of this programme ; while several circumstances may tend to embarrass your operations.
The principal special conditions may therefore be separately treated to your advantage.

Size. — Other things being equal, a large bird is more difficult to prepare than a small
one. In one case, you only need a certain delicacy of touch, easily acquired and soon becom-
ing mechanical ; in the other, demand on your strength may be made, till your muscles ache.
It takes longer, too ; ^ I could put away a dozen sparrows in the time I should spend over
an eagle ; and I would rather undertake a hundred humming-birds than one ostrich. For

' The reader may be curious to know sometliitig of the statistics on this score — how long it ought to take
liim to prepare an ordinary skin. He can scarcely imagine, from his first tedious operations, how expert he may
become, not only in beauty of result, but in rapidity of execution. I have seen taxidermists make good small
skins at the rate of ten an hour; but this is extraordinary. The quickest work I ever did myself was eight an
hour, or an average of seven and a half minutes apiece, and fairly good skins. But I picked my birds, all small
ones, well shot, labelled, measured, and plugged beforehand, so that the rate of work was exceptional, besides-
including only the actual manipulations from first cut to laying away. No one averages eight birds an hour, even
excluding the neces-sary preliminaries of cleansing, plugging, etc. Four birds an hour, everything included, is
good work. A very eminent ornithologist of this country, and an expert taxidermist, once laid a whimsical wager,
that he would skin and stuff a bird before a certain friend of his could pick all the feathers off a specimen of the
same kind. I forget the time, but he won, and his friend ate crow, literally, that night.

HOW TO MAKE A BIEDSKIN. 35

•' large " birds, say anything from a hen-hawk upward, various special manipulations I have
directed may be foregone, while however you observe their general drift and intent. You may
open the bird as directed, or, turning it tail to you, cut with a knife.^ Forceps are rarely
required ; there is not much that is too small to be taken in hand. As soon as the tail is
divided, hang up the bird by the rump, so you wUl have both hands free. Let it swing clear
of the wall or table, at any height most convenient. The steel hooks of a dissecting case are
not always large enough; use a stout fish-hook with the barb filed ofi". Work with your naUs,
assisted by the scalpel if necessary. I know of no bird, and I think there is none, in this
country at least, the skin of which is so intimately adherent by fibrous or muscular tissue as
to require actual dissecting throughout ; a pelican comes, perhaps, as near this as any ; but in
many cases the knife may be constantly en] ployed with advantage. Use it with long clean
sweeping strokes, hugging the skin rather than the body. The knee and shoulder commonly
require disarticulation, unless you use bone-nippers or strong shears ; the four cuts of the skull
may presuppose a very able-bodied instrument, even a chisel. The wings will give you the
most trouble, and they require a special process ; for you cannot readily break up the adhesions
of the secondary quills to the ulna, nor is it desirable that very large feathers should be
deprived of this natural support. Hammer or nip ofi" the great head of the upper arm-bone,
just below the insertion of the breast muscles; clean the rest of that bone and leave it in. Tie
a string around it (what sailors call '' two half hitches " gives a secure hold on the bony
cylinder), and tie it to the other humerus, inside the skin, so that the two bones shall be rather
less than their natural distance apart. After the skin is brought right side out, attack the
wings thus : Spread the wing under side uppermost, and secure it on the table by dri\'ing
a tack or brad through the wrist -joint; this fixes the far end, while the weight of the skin
steadies the other. Raise a whole layer of the under wing-coverts, and make a cut in the skin
thus exposed, from elbow to wrist, in the middle line between the two forearm bones. Raise
the flaps of skin and all the muscle is laid bare ; it is to be removed. This is best done by
lifting each muscle from its bed separately, slipping the handle of the scalpel under the
individual bellies ; there is little if any bony attachment except at each end, and this is reatlily
severed. Strew in arsenic ; a little cotton may be used to fill the bed of inuscle removed from
a very large bird ; bring the flaps of skin together, and smooth down the coverts ; you need
not be particular to sew up the cut, for the coverts will hide the ojjening ; in fact, the operation
does not show at all after the make-up. StuflBng of large birds is not commonly done with
only the four pieces already directed. The eyeballs, and usually the neck-cylinder, go in as
before ; the body may be filled any way you please, provided you do not put in too much
stuffing nor get any between the shoulders. All large birds had better have the leg-bones
wrapped to nearly natural size. Observe that the leg-muscles do not form a cylinder, but a
cone ; let the wrapping taper naturally from top to bottom. Attention to this point is neces-
sary for all large or medium-sized birds with naturally prominent legs. The large finely
feathered legs <>f a hawk, for example, ought to be well displayed ; with these birds, and also
with rails, etc., au^reover, imitate the bulge of the thigh with a special wad laid inside the
skin. Large bir^ commonly require also a special wad introduced by the mouth, to make
the swell of the throat ; this wad should be rather flufi'y than firm. As a rule, do not fill out

• Certain among larger birds are often opened elsewhere than along the belly, with what advantage I cannot
say from my own experience. Various water birds, such as loons, grebes, auks, gulls, and ducks (in fact any
swimming bird with dense under plumage) may be opened along the side by a cut umler the wings from the
shoulder over the hip to the rump; the cut is completely hidden by the make-up, and the plumage is never ruffled.
But I see no necessity for this; for, as a rule, the belly opening can, if desired, be completely etiaced with due care,
though a very greasy bir<l with white under i)lumage generally stains where opened, in spite of every precaution.
Such birds as loons, grebes, cormorants, and penguins are often openetl by a cut across the fundament from one
leg to the other; their conformation in fact suggests and favors this operation. I have often seen water birds slit
down the back ; but I consider it very poor practice.

36 FIELD ORNITHOLOGY.

large birds to their natural dimensions ; they take up too much room. Let the head, neck,
and legs be accurately prepared, but leave the main cavity one-third if not one-half empty ;
no more is required than will fairly smooth out creases in the skin. Reduce bulk rather by
flattening out than by general compression. Use tow instead of cotton ; and if at all short of
tow, economize with paper, hay, etc., at least for the deeper portions of the main stuffing.
Large birds may be " set " in a great quantity of tow ; wrapped in paper, much like any
other parcel ; or simply left to dry on the table, the wings being only supported by cushioning
or other suitable means.

Shape. — Some special configurations have been noticed in the last paragraph, prema-
turely perhaps, but leading directly up to further considerations respecting shape of certain
birds as a modifying element in the process of preparation. As for skinning, there is one
extremely important matter. Most ducks, many woodpeckers, flamingoes, and doubtless
some others with which I am not familiar, cannot be skinned in the usual way, because the
head is too large for the calibre of the neck and cannot be drawn through. In such cases,
skin as usual to the base of the skull, cut oflF the head there (inside the skin of course), and
operate upon it, after turning the skin right side out, as follows : Part the feathers carefully
in a straight line down the back of the skull, make a cut through the skin, just long enough
to permit the head to pass, draw out the skull through this opening, and dress it as already
<lirected. Keturn it, draw the edges of the cut nicely together, and sew up the opening with
a great many fine stitches. Simple as it may appear, this process is often embarrassing, for
the cut has an unhappy tendency to wander about the neck, enlarging itself even under the
most careful manipulation ; while the feathers of the parts are usually so short, that it is diffi-
cult to eftace all traces of the operation. I consider it very disagreeable ; but for ducks I know
of no alternative. I have however found out a way to avoid it with woodpeckers, excepting
the very largest ; it is this : Before skinning, part the eyelids, and plunge the scalpel right
into the eyeballs ; seize the cut edge of the ball with the forceps, and pull the eye right out.
It may be dexterously done without spilling the eye-water on the plumage ; but, for fear of
this, previously put a little pile of plaster on the spot. Throw arsenic into the socket, and
then fill it with cotton poked in between the lids. The eyes are thus disposed of. Then, in
skinning, when you come to the head, dissever it from the neck and work the skull as far out
as you can ; it may be sufficiently exposed, in all cases, for you to gouge out the base of the
skull mth the scissors, and get at the brain to remove it. Apply an extra large dose of
arsenic, and you m^lU never hear from what jaw-muscle has been left in. In all these cases, as
already remarked, the head is preferably set lying on one side, with the bill pointing obliquely
to the right or left. Certain birds require a special mode of setting ; these are, birds with very
long legs or neck, or both, as swans, geese, pelicans, cormorants, snakebirds, loons, and
especially cranes, herons, ibises, and flamingoes. Long legs should be doubled comjjletely on
themselves by bending at the heel-joint, and either tucked under the wings, or laid on the
under surface ; the chief point is to see that the toes lie fiat, so that the claws do not stick un,
to catch in things or get broken ofi". A long neck should be carefully folded ; not at a sharp
angle with a crease in the skin, but with a short curve, and brought round either to the side
of the bird or on its breast, as may seem most convenient. The object is to make a " bale "
of the skin as nearly as may be, and when it is properly efi'ected it is surprising what little
space a crane, for instance, occupies. But it is rarely, if ever, admissible to bend a tail back
on the body, however inconveniently long it may be. Special dilations of skin, like the pouch
of a pelican, or the air sacs of a prairie hen, may be moderately displayed.

Thin Skin. — Loose Plumage. — It is astonisliing how much resistance is off'ered by
the thin skin of the smallest bird. Though nu thicker than tissue paper, it is not very liable

HOW TO 3IAKE A BIRDSKIN. o«

to tear if deftly handled ; yet a rent once started often enlarges to an embarrassing extent if
the skin be stretched in the least. Accidental rents and enlargements of shot-holes should be
neatly sewn up, if occun-ing in an exposed place ; but in most cases the plumage may be set
to hide the openings. The trogons are said to have remarkably thin and delicate skin; I have
never handled one in the flesh. Among our birds, the cardinal grosbeak and the species of
Caprimulcjidce have, I think, about the tenderest skins. The obvious indication in all such
cases is simply a little extra delicacy of manipulation. In skinning most birds, you should
not loose more than a feather or two, excepting those loosened by the shot. Pigeons are
peculiar, among our birds, ftjr the very loose insertion of their plumage ; you will have to be
particularly careful vnl\\ them, and in spite of all your precautions a good many feathers will
probably drop. As stripping down the secondary quills from the forearm, in the manner
already indicated, will almost invariably set these feathers free from the skin, I recommend you
not to attempt it, but to dress the wings as prescribed for large birds.

Fatness. — Fat is a substance abhorred of all dissectors ; always in the way, embarrass-
ing operations and obscuring observations ; while it is seldom worth examination after its
structure has once been ascertained. It is particularly obnoxious to the taxidermist, since it
is liable to soil the plumage during skinning, and also to soak into the feathers afterwards ;
and greasy birdskins are never pleasing objects. A few birds never seem to have any fat ;
some, like petrels, are always oily; at times, especially in the indolent autumn season, when
birds have little to do but feed, the great majority acquire an embonpoint doubtless to their own
satisfaction, but to the taxidermist's discomfort. In all such cases gypsum should be lavishly
employed. Strew plaster plentifully, from the first cut all through the operation ; dip your
fingers in it frequently, as well as your instruments. The invaluable absorbent will deal with
most of the "running" fat. When the skin is completely reversed, remove as much of the
solid fat as possible; it is generally found occupying the areolar tissue of particular definite
tracts, and most of it may usually be peeled or flaked off in considerable masses. Since the
soft and oozy state of most birds' fat at ordinary temperatures may be much improved by cold,
it will repay you to leave your birds on ice for a while before skinning, if you have the means
and time to do so ; the fat will become quite firm. There is a device for preventing or at any
rate lessening the soiling of the plumage so apt to occur along the line of your incision ; it is
invaluable in all cases of white plumage. Take a strip of cloth of greater width than the
lenijth of the feathers, long enough to go up one side of the cut and down the other. Sew
this closely to the skin all around the cut, and it will form an apron to guard the plumage.
You will too frequently find that a bird, prepared without soiling and laid away apparently
safe, afterwards grows greasy ; if the plumage is white, it soon becomes worse than ever by
sliowing dust that the grease catches. Perhaps the majority of such birds in our museums
show the dirty streak along the belly. The reason is, that the grease has oozed out along the
cut, or wherever else the skin has been broken, and infiltrated the plumage, being drawn up
api>arently by capillary attraction, just as a lampwick '' sucks up " oil. Sometimes, without
obviously soiling the plumage, the grease will run along the thread that ties the label, and
make a uniformly transparent piece of ''oil-paper." I have no remedy to offer for this gradual
infiltration of the plumage. It will not wash out, even with soap and water. Possibly careful
and persistent treatment with an ether might be effective, but I am not prepared to say it would
be. Removal of all fat that can be got off during skinning, with a liberal use of plaster, will
in a measure prevent a difficulty that remains incurable.

Bloodstains, etc. — In the nature of the case, this complication is of continual occurrence;
fortunately it is easier dealt with than greasiness. Much may be done in the field to prevent
bloodying of the plumage, as already said. A little blood does not show much on a dark

38 FIELD ORNITHOLOGY.

plumage ; but it is of course conspicuous on light or white feathers. Dried blood may often
be scraped oflF, in imitation of the natural process by which a bird cleanses its plumage with
the bill ; or be pulverized by gently twiddling the feathers between the fingers, and then
blown off. But feathers may by due care be washed almost as readily as clothing ; and we
must ordinarily resort to this to remove all traces of blood, especially from white surfaces. If
properly dried they do not show the operation. With a soft rag or pledget of cotton dipped in
warm water bathe the place assiduously, pressing down pretty hard, only taking care to stroke
the feathers the right way, so as not to crumple them, until the red color disappears ; then you
have simply a wet place to deal with. Press gypsum on the spot ; it will cake ; flake it off
and apply more, till it will no longer stick. Then raise the feathers on a knife-blade and
sprinkle gypsum in among them ; pat it down and shake it up, wrestling with the spot till the
moisture is entirely absorbed. Two other fluids of the body will give you occasional annoy-
ance, — the juices of the aUmentary canal and the eye-water. Escape of the former by mouth,
nostrils, or vent is preventable by plugging these orifices, and its occurrence is inexcusable.
But shot often lacerates the gullet, crop, and bowels, and though nothing may flow at the
time, subsequent jolting or pressure in the game-bag causes the escape of fluids : a seemingly
safe specimen may be unwrapped to show the whole belly-plumage a sodden brown mass.
Such accidents should be treated precisely like bloodstains ; but it is to be remarked that these
stains are not seldom indelible, traces usually persisting in white plumage at least in spite of
our best endeavors. Eye-water, insignificant as it may appear, is often a great annoyance.
This liquor is slightly glairy, or rather glassy, and puts a sort of sizing on the plumage difficult
to efface ; the more so since the soiling necessarily occurs in a conspicuous place, where the
plumage is too scanty and delicate to bear much handling. It frequently happens that a lacer-
ated eyeball, by the elasticity of the coats, or adhesion of the lids, retains its fluid till this is
pressed out in manipulating the parts; and recollecting how the head Ues buried in plumage at
that stage of the process, it will be seen that not only the head, but much of the neck and even
the breast may become wetted. If the parts are extensively soaked, the specimen is almost
irreparably damaged, if not ruined. Plaster will absorb the moisture, but much of the sizing
may be retained on the plumage ; therefore, though the place seems simply wet, it should be
thoroughly washed with water before the gypsum is applied. I always endeavor to prevent
the accident; if I notice a lacerated eyeball, I extract it before skinning, in the manner
described for woodpeckers. Miscellaneous stains, from the juices of plants, etc., may be
received ; all such are treated on general principles. Blood on the beak and feet of rapacious
birds, mud on the bill and legs of waders, etc., etc., may be washed off \\dthout the slightest
difficulty. A land bird that has fallen in the water should be recovered as soon as possible,
picked up by the biU, and shaken ; most of the water will run off, unless the plumage is com-
pletely soaked. It should be allowed to dry just as it is, without touching the jdumage,
before being wrapped and bagged. If a bird fall in soft mud, the diit should be scraped or
snapped off as far as this can be done without plastering the feathers down, and the rest
allowed to dry ; it may afterward be rubbed fine and dusted off, when no harm will ensue,
except to white feathers wliieh may require washing.

3Iutilation. — You will often be troubled, early in your practice, with broken legs and
wings, and various lacerations ; but the injury must be very severe (such as the carrying away
of a limb, or blowing off the whole top of a head) that cannot be in great measure remedied by
care and skill. Suppose a little bird, shot througli the neck or small of the back, comes apart
while being skinned ; you have only to remove the hinder portion, be that much or little, and
go on with the rest as if it were the whole. If the leg bone of a small bird be broken near
the heel, let it come away altogether ; it will make little if any difference. In case of the
same accident to a large bird that ought to have the legs wrapped, whittle out a peg and stick

HOW TO MAKE A BIRDSKIX. 39

it in the hollow stump of the bone ; if there is no stump left, file a piece of stout wire to a
point and stick it into the heel joint. If the forearm bone that you usually leave in a small
bird is broken, remove it and leave the other in ; if both are broken, do not clean the wings
so thurouglily that they become detached ; an extra pinch of arsenic will condone the omission.
In a large bird, if both bones of the forearm are broken, splint them with a bit of wood laid in
between, so that one end hitches at the elbow, the other at the wrist. A humerus may be
replaced like a leg bone, but this is rarely required. If the skull be smashed, save the pieces,
and leave them if you can ; if not, imitate the arch of the head with a firm cotton-ball. A
broken tarsus is readily splinted with a pin thrust up through the sole of the foot : if too large
for this, use a pointed piece of wire. There is no mending a bill when part of it is shot away ;
for I think the replacing of part by putty, stucco, etc., inadmissible; but if it be only fractured,
the pieces may usually be retained in place by winding with thread, or with a touch of glue or
mucilage. It is singular, by the way, what unsightliness results from a very trifling injury to
the bill; much, I suppose, as a boil on a person's nose is peculiarly deplorable. I have already
hinted how artfully various weak places in a skin, due to mutilation or loss of plumage, may be
hidden.

Decomposition. — It might seem unnecessary to speak of what may be smelled out so
readily as animal putrescence; but there are some useful points to be learned in this connection,
besides the important sanitary precautions that are to be deduced. Immediately after death
the various fluids of the body begin to " settle" (so to speak), and shortly after the muscular
system as a rule becomes fixed in what is technically called rigor mortis. This stifiening
usually occurs as the animal heat dies away ; but its onset, and especially its duration, is very
variable, according to circumstances, such as cause of death ; although in most cases of sudden
A-iuleut death of an animal in previous good health, it seems to depend chiefly upon tempera-
ture, being transient and imperfect, or altogether wanting, in hot weather. As it passes ofl",
the whole system relaxes, and the body soon becomes as " limp " as at the moment of death.
This is the period immediately preceding decomposition ; in fact, it may be considered as the
stage of incipient putridity ; it is very brief in warm weather, and it should be seized as the
last opportunity of preparing a bird without inconvenience and even danger. If not skinned
at once, putrescence becomes established; it is indicated by the effluvium (at the outset "sour,"
but rapidly acquiring a variety of disgusting odors) ; by the distension of the abdomen with
gaseous products of decomposition ; by the loosening of the cuticle, and consequently of the
feathers ; and by other signs. If you part the feathers of a bad-smelling bird's belly to find
the skin swollen and livid or greenish, while the feathers come ofi" at a touch, the bird is too
far gone to be recovered without trouble and risk that no ordinary specimen warrants. It is
a singular fact that this early putrescence is more poisonous than utter rottenness; as physicians
are aware, a post-mortem examination at this stage, or even before it, involves more risk
tlian their ordinary dissecting-room experience. It seems that both natural and pathological
poisons lose their early virulence by resolution into other products of decay. The obvious
deduction from all this is to skin your birds soon enough. Some say they are best skinned
perfectly fresh, but I see no reason for this; when I have time to choose, I take the period of
rigidity as being preferable on the whole; for the fluids have then " settled," and the limbs are
readily relaxed by manipulation. If you have a large bag to dispose of, and are pressed for
time, set them in the coolest place you can find, preferably on ice; a slight lowering of temper-
ature may make a decided difference. Disembowelling, which may be accomplished in a
moment, will materially retard decomposition. Injections of creosote or dilute carbolic acid
will arrest decay for a time, for an indefinit<'ly long period if a large quantity of these anti-
septics be employed. When it becomes desirable (it can never be necessary) to skin a putres-
cent bird, great care nmst be exercised not only to accomplish the operation, but to avoid

40 FIELh ORXITHOLOGY.

danpjer. I must not, however, uueonscioiitily lead you to exaggerate the risk, aud will add
that I think it often overrated. I have probably skinned birds as " gainey " as any one has,
and repeatedly, without being conscious of auy ill efi'ects. I am sure that no poison, ordinarily
generated by decomposition of a body healthy at death, can compare in virulence with tliat
commonly resulting after death by many diseases. I also believe that the gaseous products,
however offensive to the smell, are innocuous as a rule. The danger pi-actically narrows down
to the absorption of fluids through an abraded surface ; the poison is rarely taken in by natural
pores of healthy skin, if it remain in contact but a short time. Cuts and scratches may he
closed with a fihn of coUodion, or covered with isinglass or court plaster, or protected by
rubber cots on the fingers. The hands should, of course, be washed with particular care
immediately after the operation, and the nails scrupulously dressed. Having never been
poisoned (to my knowledge), I cannot give the symptoms from personal experience; but I
will quote from Mr. Maynard :

" In a few days numerous pimples, which are exceedingly painful, appear upon the skin
of the face and other parts of the person and, upon those parts where there is chafing or
rubbing, become large and deep sores. There is a general languor and, if badly poisoned,
complete prostration results ; the slightest scratch becomes a festering sore. Once poisoned
in this manner (and I speak from experience), one is never afterward able to skin any animal
that has become in the least putrid, without experiencing some of the symptoms above
described. Even birds that you handled before with impunity, you cannot now skin without
great care. The best remedy in this case is, as the Hibernian would say, not to get poisoned,
.... bathe the parts frequently in cold water ; and, if chafed, sprinkle tlio parts after bathing,
with wheat flour. These remedies, if persisted in, will efiect a cure, if not too bad; then,
medical advice should be procured without delay.'" ^

How to mount Birds. — As some may not improbably procure tins volume with a
reasonable expectation of being taught to mount birds, I append the required instructions,
although the work only professes to treat of the preparation of skins for the cabinet. As a
rule, the purposes of science are best subserved by not mounting specimens ; for display, the
only end attained, is not required. I would strongly advise you not to mount your rarer or
otherwise particularly valuable specimens; select for this purpose nice, pretty birds of no
special scientific value. The principal objections to mounted birds are, that they take up
altogether too much room, require special arrangements for keeping and transportation, and
cannot be handled for study with impunity. Some might suppose that a mounted bird would
give a better idea of its figure and general aspect than a skin ; but this is only true to a limited
extent. Faultless mounting is an art really difficult, acquired by few ; the average work done
in this hue shows something of caricature, ludicrous or repulsive, as the case may be. To
copy nature faithfully by taxidermy requires not only long and ch)se study, but an artistic
sense ; and this last is a rare gift. Unless you have at least the germs of the faculty in your
composition, your taxidermal success will be incommensurate with the time and trouble you
bestow. My own taxidermal art is of a low order, decidedly not above average ; although I
have mounted a great many birds that would compare very favorably with ordinary museum
work, few of them have entirely answered my ideas. A live bird is to mc such a beautiful
object that the slightest taxidermal flaw in the eff"ort to represent it is painfully offensive ; per-
haps this makes me place the standard of excellence too high for practical purposes. I like a
good honest birdskin that docs not pretend to be anything else ; it is far ])rcfcrable to the

1 Avoid all meclianical irritation of the iiirtamed parts; touch the parts tliat have ulcerated with a stick
of lunar caustic ; take a dose of salts ; use syrup of tlie iodide of iron, or tincture of the chloride of iron, say thirty
drops of either, in a wineglass of water, thrice daily; rest at first, exercise gradually as you can bear it; and skin
no birds till you have completely recovere<l.

HOW TO MAKE A BIBDSKIX. 41

ordinary taxidermal abortions of the show-cases. But if, after the warnings that I mean to
convey in tliis paragraph, you still wish to try your hand in the higher department of taxi-
dermy, I will explain tlie whole process as far as manipulation goes; the art you must discover
in yciurself.

The operation of skinning is precisely the same as that already given in detail ; then,
instead of stuffing the skin as directed above, to lie on its back in a drawer, you have to stuff
it so that it will stand up on its feet and look as much like a live bird as possible. To this end
a few additional implements and materials are required. These are : a, annealed wire of vari-
ous numbers ; it may be iron or brass, but must be perfectly annealed, so as to retain no
elasticity or " spring;" b, several files of different sizes ; c, some slender, straight, brad awls ;
d, cutting pliers ; e, setting needles, merely sewing or darning needles stuck in a light wooden
handle, for dressing individual feathers ; /, plenty of pins (the long, slender insect pins used by
entomologists are the best) and sewing thread ; g, an assortment of glass eyes. (The fixtures
and decorations are noticed, beyond, as occasion for their use arises.)

There are two principal methods of mounting, which may be respectively styled soft stuif-
ing and hard stuffing. In the former, a wire framework, consisting of a single anterior piece
passing in the middle line of the body up through the neck and out at top of the head, is
immovably joined behind with two pieces, one passing through each leg; around this naked
forked frame soft stuffing is introduced, bit by bit, till the proper contour of the skin is secured.
I have seen very pretty work of this kind, particularly on small birds ; but I consider it much
more difficult to secure satisfactory results in this way than by hard stuffing, and I shall there-
fore confine attention to the lattei*. This method is applicable to all birds, is readily practised,
facilitates setting of the wings, arranging of the plumage, and giving of any desired attitude.
In hard stuffing, you make a firm ball of tow rolled upon a wire of the size and shape of the
bird's body and neck together ; you introduce this whole, aftervA^ards running in the leg wires
and clinching them immovably in the mass of tow.

Having your empty skin in good shape, as already described ; cut three pieces of wire of
the right ^ size; one piece somewhat longer than the whole bird, the other pieces two or three
times as long as the whole leg of the bird. File one end of each piece to a fine shar}} point ;
try to secure a three-edged cutting point like that of a surgical needle, rather than the smooth
jiunching point of a sewing- needle, as the former perforates more readily. Have these wires
perfectly straight.^ Bend a small portion of the unfiled end of the longer wire irregulaiiy upon
itself, as a convenient nucleus for the ball of tow.'^ Take fine clean tow, in loose dossils, and
wrap it round and round the wire nucleus, till you make a firm ball, of the size and shape of
the bird's body and neck. Study the contour of the skinned body : notice the swelling breast-
muscles, the arch of the lower back, the hollow between the furcula into which the neck, when
naturally curved, sinks. Everything depends upon correct shaping of the artificial body ; if
it be misshapen, no art can propei'ly adjust the skin over it. Firmness of the tow ball and
accurate contour may both be secured by wrapping the mass with sewing thread, loosening
liere, tiglitening there, till the shape is satisfactory. Be particular to secure a smooth super-
ficies ; the skin in drying will shrink close to the stuffing, disclosing its irregularities, if there
bo any, by the maladjustment of the plumage that will ensue. Observe especially that the
neck, though the direct continuation of the backbone, dips at its lower end into the hollow of
the merry-thought, and so virtually begins there instead of directly between the shoulders.

' The right size is the smallest that will support the whole weight of the stuffing and skin without bending,
when a piece is introduced into each leg. If using too thick wire, you may have trouble in thrusting it through
the legs, or may burst the tarsal envelope.

= If accidentally kinky, the finer sizes of wire may be readily straightened by drawing strongly upon them
80 as to stretch them a little. Heavier wire must be hammered out straight

5 Cotton will not do at all ; it is too soft and elastic, and moreover will not allow of the leg wires being thrust
into it and there clinched.

42 FIELD ORNITHOLOGY.

The three mistakes most likely to be made by a beginner are, getting the body altogether too
large, not firm enough, and irregular. When properly made, it will closely resemble the
bird's body and neck, with an inch or several inches of sharp-pointed wire protruding from the
anterior extremity of the neck of tow. You have now to introduce the whole afiair into
the skin. With the birdskin on its back, the tail pointing to your right elbow, and the
abdominal opening as wide as possible, hold the tow body in position relative to the skin ;
enter the wire, pass it up through the neck, bring the sharp point exactly against the middle
of the skuU, pierce skull and skin, causing the wire to protrude some distance from the middle
of the crown. Then by gentle means insinuate the body, partly pushing it in, j^artly drawing
the skin over it, tUl it rests in its proper position. This is just like drawing on a tight kid
glove, and no more difficult. See that the body is completely encased; you must be able to
close the abdominal aperture entirely. You have next to wire the legs. Enter the sharp
point of one of the leg-wires already prepared, exactly at the centre of the sole of the foot,
thrusting it up inside the tarsal envelope the whole length of the " shank," thence across the
heel joint ^ and up along the next bone of the leg, still inside the skin. The point of the wire
will then be seen within the skin, and may be seized and drawn a little further through, and
you will have passed a ware entirely out of sight all the way along the leg. The end of the
wire is next to be fixed immovably in the tow ball. Thrust it in at the point where the knee,
in life, rests against the side of the body.^ Bring the point to view, bend it over and reinsert
it till it sticks fiist. There are no special directions to be given here ; fasten the wire in any
way that efi'ectually prevents '' wabbling." You may find it convenient to wire both legs
before fastening either, and then clinch them by twisting the two ends together. But remem-
ber that the leg-wires may be fixed respecting each other, yet permit a see-saw motion of the
body upon them. This must not be ; the body and legs must be fixed upon a jointless frame.
Having secured the legs, close the abdominal opening nicely, either by sewing or pinning ; you
may stick pins in anywhere, as freely as in a pin-cushion; the feathers hide their heads. Stick
a pin through the pope's nose to fix the tail in place.

All this while the bird has been lying on its back, the neck stretched straight in continua-
tion of the body, wired stiffly, the legs straddling wide apart, straight and stiff", the wings lying
loosely, half-spread. Now bring the legs together, parallel with each other, and make the
sharp bend at the heel joint that will bring the feet naturally under the belly (over it, as the
bird lies on its back). Pick up the bird by the wires that project from the soles and set it on
its stand, by running the wires through holes bored the proper distance ajjart, and then secur-
ing the ends by twisting. The temporary stand that you use for this purpose should have a
heavy or otherwise firm support, so as not easily to overturn during the subsequent manipu-
lations. At this stage the bird is a sorry-looking object ; but if you have stuff"ed correctly and
wired securely, it will soon improve. Begin by making it stand properly. The common fault
here is placing the tarsi too nearly perpendicular. Perching birds, constituting the majority,
habitually stand with the tarsi more nearly horizontal than perpendicular, and generally keep
the tarsi parallel with each other. Wading and most walking birds stand with the legs more
nearly upriglit and straight. Many swimming birds straddle a little ; others rarely if ever.
See that the toes clasp the perch naturally, or are properly spread on the ffat surface. Cause
the flank feathers to be correctly adjusted over the tibiae (and here I wiU remark that with
most birds little, if any, of the tibise shows in life), the heel joint barely, if at all, projecting

1 There is occasionally difficulty in getting the wire across this joint, from the point sticking into the enlarged
end of the shin-bone. In such case, take stout pliers and pinch the joint till the bone is smashed to fragments.
The wire will then pass and the comminution will not show. If there is any trouble in passing the wire through
the tarsus, bore a hole for it with a brad awl.

« This point is further forward and more belly-ward than you might suppose. Observe the skinned body
again, and see where the lower end of the thigh lies. If you insert the wire too far back, you cannot by any possi-
bility balance the bird naturally on its perch; it will look iu imminent danger of toppling over.

HOW TO MAKE A BIRBSKIN. 43

from tlie general plumage. It is a common fault of stuffing not to draw the legs closely
enough to the body. Above all, look out for the centre of gravity ; though you have really
fastened the bird to its perch, you must not let it look as if it would fall off if the wires slipped;
it must appear to rest there of its own accord. Next, give the head and neck a preliminary
setting, according to the attitude you have detennined upon. This will bring the plumage
about the shoulders in proper position for the setting of the wings, to which you may at once
attend. If the body be correctly fashioned and the skin of the shoulders duly adjusted over it,
the wings will fold into place without the slightest difficulty. All that I have said before
about setting the wings in a skin applies here as well ; but in this case they will not stay
in place, since they fall by their own weight. They must be pinned up. Holding the wing
in place, thrust a pin steadily through near the ^\Tist joint, into the tow body. Sometimes
another pin is required to support the weight of the primaries ; it may be stuck into the flank
of the bird, the outer quill feather resting directly upon it. With large birds a sharp pointed
wire must replace the pin. When properly set, the wing-tips will fall together or symmetri-
cally opposite each other, the quills and coverts will be smoothly imbricated, the scapular
series of feathers will lie close, and no bare space will show in front of the shoulder. Much
depends upon the final adjustment of the head. The commonest mistake is getting it too
far away from the body. In the ordinary attitudes of most birds little neck shows, the head
appearing nestled upon the shoulders. If the neck appears too long, it is not to be contracted
by pushing the head directly down upon it, but by making an S curve of the neck. No precise
directions can be given for the set of the head, but you may be assured it is a delicate, difficult
matter ; the slightest turn of the bill one way or another may alter the whole expression of the
bird. You wiU of course have determined beforehand upon your attitude, upon what you wish
the bird to appear to be doing ; tlien, let your meaning be pointed by tlie bird's bill.

On the general subject of striking an attitude, and giving expression to a stuffed bird, little
can be said to good purpose. If you are to become proficient in this art, it will come from
your own study of birds in the field, your own good taste and appreciation of bird life. The
manual processes are easily described and practised ; it is easy to grind paint, I suppose, but
not so to be an artist. I shall therefore only follow the above account of the general processes
with some special practical points. After ''attitudinizing" to your satisfaction, or to the best
of your ability, the plumage is to be carefully " dressed." Feathers awry may be set in place
with a light spring forceps, or needles fixed in a handle, one by one if necessary. When no
individual feather seems out of place, it often occurs that the general plumage has a loose,
slovenly aspect. This is readily corrected by wrapping with fine thread. Stick a pin into the
middle of the back, another into the breast, and perhaps others, elsewhere. Fasten the end of
a spool of sewing cotton to one of the pins, and carry it to another, winding the thread about
among the pins, till the whole surface is covered with an irregular network. Tighten to
reduce an undue prominence, loosen over a depression ; but let the wrapping as a whole be
light, firm, and even. This procedure, nicely executed, will give a smoothness to the plumage
not otherwise attainable, and may be made to produce the most exquisite curves, particularly
about the head, neck, and breast. The thread should be left on till the bird is perfectly dry ;
it may then be unwound or cut ofi", and the pins withdrawn. When a particular patch of skin
is out of place, it may often be pulled into position and pinned there. You need not be afraid
of sticking pins in anywhere : they may be buried in the plumage and left there, or withdrawn
when the skin is dry. In addition to the maiu stuffing, a little is often required in particular
places. As for the legs, they should be filled out in all such cases as I indicated earlier in this
section ; small birds require no such stuffing. It is necessary to fill out the eyes so that the
lids rest naturally ; it may be done as heretofore directed, or by putting in pledgets of cotton
from the outside. A little nice stuffing is generally required about the upper throat. To stuff
a bird with spread wings requires a special process, in most cases. The wings are to be wired.

44 FIELD ORNITHOLOGY.

exactly as directed for the legs ; they may then be placed in any shape. But with most small
birds, and those with short wings, simple pinning in the half-spread position indicating flutter-
ing will suffice ; it is readily accomplished with a long, slender insect pin. I have already
spoken of fixing the tail by pinning or wiring the pope's nose to the tow body ; it may be thus
fixed at any desired elevation or depression. There are two ways of spreading the tail. One
is to run a pointed wire through the quills, near their base, where the wire will be hidden by
the coverts ; each feather may be set at any required distance from the next by sliding it along
this wire. This method is applicable to large birds ; for small ones the tail may be fixed with
the desired spread by enclosing it near its base in a split match, or two slips of card-board,
with the ends tied together. This holds the feathers until they dry in position, when it is to
be taken off. Ci'ests may be raised, spread, and displayed on similar principles. A small
crest, like that of a cardinal or cherry bird, for instance, may be held up till it dries in position
by sticking in behind it a pin with a little ball of cotton on its head. It is sometimes neces-
sary to make a bird's toes grasp a support by tying them down to it till they dry. The toes
of waders that do not lie evenly on the surface of the stand may be tacked down with small
brads. The bill may be pinned open or shut, as desired, by the method already given. Never
paint or varnish a bird's bill or feet.

Substitution of an artificial eye for the natural one is essential for the good looks of a
specimen. Glass eyes, of all sizes and colors, may be purchased at a moderate cost. The
pupil is always black ; the iris varies. Y(ju will, of course, secure the proper coloi if it is
known, but if not, put in a dark brovAm or black eye. It is well understood that this means
nothing ; it is purely conventional. Yellow is probably the next most common color ; then
come red, white, blue, and green, perhaps approximately in this order of frequency. But do
not use these striking colors at hap-hazard; sacrificing truth, perhaps, to looks. Eyes are gen-
erally inserted after the specimen is dry. Remove a portion of the cotton fi-om the orbit, and
moisten the lids till they are perfectly pliable; fix the eye in with putty or wet plaster of Paris,
making sure that the lids are naturally adjusted over it. It goes in obliquely, like a button
through a button-hole. Much art may be displayed in this little matter, making a bird look
this way or that, to carry out the general " expression."

On finishing a specimen, set it away to dry ; the time required varies, of course, M-ith the
weather, the size of the bird, its fetness, etc. The more slowly it dries the better; there is
less risk of the skin shrinking irregularly. You will often find that a specimen set away with
smooth plumage and satisfactory curves dries more or less out of shape, perhaps with the
feathers raised in places. I know of no remedy ; it may, in a measure, be prevented by scru-
pulous care in making the body smooth and firm, and in securing slow, equable drying.
When perfectly dry remove the wrapping, pull out the superfluous pins or wires, nip off the
others so short that the ends are concealed, and insert the eyes. The specimen is then ready
to be transferred to its permanent stand.

Fixtures for the display of the object of course vary interminably. We will take the
simplest case, of a large collection of mounted birds fur public exhibition. In this instance,
uniformity and simplicity are desiderata. " Spread eagle" styles of mounting, artificial rocks
and flowers, etc., are entirely out of place in a collection of any scientific pretensions, or
designed for popular instruction. Besides, they take up too much room. Artistic grouping
of an extensive collection is usually out of the question ; and when this is unattainable, half-
way efforts in that direction should be abandoned in favor of severe simplicity. Birds look
best on the whole in uniform rows, assorted according to size, as far as a natural classification
allows. They are best set on the plainest stands, with circular base and a short cylindrical
crossbar on a lightly turned upright. The stands should be painted dead-white, and be no
larger than is necessary for secure support ; a neat stiff paper label may be attached. A small
collection of birds, as an ornament to a private residence, offers a different case; here, variety

MISCELLANEOUS PARTICULARS. 45

of attitude and appropriate imitation of the birds' natural surroundings are to be secured. A
miniature tree, on wliich a number of birds may be placed, is readily made. Take stout wire,
and by bending it, and attaching other pieces, get the framework of the tree of the desired size,
sliape, and number of perches. Wrap it closely with tow to a proper calibre, remembering
tliat the two forks of a stem must be together only about as large as the stem itself. Gather
a basket full of lichens and tree moss ; reduce them to coarse powder l)y rubbing with the
liands ; besmear the whole tree with mucilage or thin glue, and sift the lichen powder on it till
the tow is completely hidden. This produces a very natural effect, which may be heightened
by separately affixing larger scraps of lichen, or little bunches of moss ; artificial leaves and
flowers may be added at your taste. The groundwork may be similarly prepared with a bit
of board, made adhesive and bestrewn with the same substance ; grasses and moss may be
added. If a flat surface is not desired, soak stout pasteboard till it can be moulded in various
irregular elevations and depressions ; lay it over the board and decorate it in the same way.
Rocks may be thus nicely imitated, with the addition of powdered glass of various colors.
Such a lot of birds is generally enclosed in a cylindrical glass case with arched top. As it
stands on a table to be viewed from different points, it must be presentable on all sides. A
niche in parlor or study is often fitted with a wall-case, which, when artistically arranged, has
a very pleasing effect. As such cases may be of considerable size, there is opportunity for the
display of great taste in grouping. A place is not to be found for a bird, but a bird for the
place, — waders and swimmers below on the ground, perchers on projecting rests above.
The surroundings may be prepared by the methods just indicated. One point deserves atten-
tion here; since the birds are only viewed from the front, they may have a " show-side" to
which everything else may be sacrificed. Birds are represented flying in such cases more
readily than under other circumstances, supported on a concealed wire inserted in the back of
the case. I have seen some very successful attempts to represent a bird swimming, the duck
being let down part way through an oval hole in a plate of thick glass, underneath which
were fixed stuffed fishes, shells, and seaweed. It is hardly necessary to add that in all orna-
mental collections, labels or other scientific machinery must be rigorously suppressed.

Transportation of mounted birds offers obvious difficulty. Unless very small, they are
best secured immovably inside a box by screwing the foot of the stands to the bottom and
sides, so that they stay in place without touching each other. Or, they may be carefully packed
in cotton, with or without removal of the stands. Their preservation from accidental injury
depends upon the same care that is bestowed upon ordinary fragile ornaments of the parlor.
The ravages of insects are to be prevented upon the principles to be hereafter given in treating
of the preservation of birdskins.

§ 8. — MISCELLANEOUS PARTICULARS.

Determination of Sex. — This is an important matter, which must never be neglected.
For altliough many l)irds show unequivocal sexual distinctions of size, shape, and color, like
tliose of the barnyard cock and hen for instance, yet the outward characteristics are more
frequently obscure, if not altogether inappreciable, on examination of the skin alone. Young
birds, moreover, are usually indistinguisliable as to sex, although the adults of the same species
may be easily recognized. The rule results, that the sexual organs should be examined as the
only infallible indices. The essential organs of masculinity are the testicles ; similarly, the
ovaries contain the essence of the female nature. However similar the accessory sexual struc-
tures may be, the testicles and ovaries are always distinct. The male organs of birds never
leave the cavity of the belly to fill an external bag of skin (scrotum) as they do among
mammalia ; they remain within the abdomen, and lie in the same position as the ovaries
of the female. Both these organs are situated in the belly ojiposite wliat corresponds to the

46 FIELD ORNITHOLOGY.

" small of the back," bound closely to the spine, resting on the front of the kidneys near their
fore end. The testicles are a pair of subspherical or rather ellipsoidal bodies, usually of the
same size, shape, and color, and are commonly of a duU opaque whitish tint. They always
lie close together. A remarkable fact connected with them is, that they are not always of the
same size in the same bird, being subject to periodical enlargement during the breeding season,
and corresponding atrophy at other seasons. Thus the testicles of a house sparrow, no bigger
than a pin's head in winter, swell to the size of peas in April. The ovary (for although this
organ is paired originally, only one is usually functionally developed in birds) wUl be recog-
nized as a iiattish mass of in-egular contour, dnd usually whitish color ; when inactive, it
simply appears of finely granular structure which may require a hand lens to be made out ;
when producing eggs, its appearance is unmistakable. Both testis and ovary may further be
recognized by a thread leading to the end of the lower bowel, — in one case the sperm-duct, in
the other the oviduct; the latter is usually much the more conspicuous, as it at times transmits-
the perfect egg. There is no difficulty in reaching the site of these organs. Lay the bird on
the left side, its belly toward you : cut Avith the scissors through the belly-walls diagonally
from anus to the root of the last rib, or further, snipping across a few of the lower ribs, if these
continue far down, as they do in a loon for instance. Press the whole mass of intestines aside
collectively, and you at once see to the small of the back. There you observe the kidneys, —
large, lobular, dark reddish masses moulded into the concavity of the sacrum (or back middle
bone of the pelvis) ; and on their surface, towards their fore end, lie testes or ovary, as just
described. The only precaution required is, not to mistake for testicles a pair of small bodies
capping the kidneys. These are the adrenals or ''supra-renal capsules," — organs whose
function is unknown, but w^ith which at any rate we have nothing to do in this connection.
They occur in both sexes, and if the testicles are not immediately seen, or the ovary not at
once recognized, they might easily be mistaken for testicles. Observe, that instead of lying
in front, they cap the kidneys ; that they ai-e usually yellowish instead of opaque whitish ; and
that they have not the firm, smooth, regular sphericity of the testicles. The testes, however,
vary more in shape and color than might be expected, being sometimes rather oblong or linear,,
and sometimes grayish or livid bluish, or reddish. There is occasionally but one. The sex
determined, use the sign $ or 9 to designate it, as already explained. In the very rare cases
of impotence or sterility among birds, of course no organs wiU be observed ; but I should dislike-
to become responsible for such labelling without very careful examination. The organs of a
small bird out of the breeding season are never conspicuous, but may always be found on close
scrutiny, unless the parts are disintegrated by a shot.

Recognition of Age is a matter of ornithological experience requiring in many or most
cases great familiarity with birds for its even approximate accomplishment. There are, how-
ever, some unmistakable signs of immaturity, even after a bird has become full -feathered, that
persist for at least one season. These are, in the first place, a peculiar soft fluify " feel" of the
plumage ; the feathers lack a certain smoothness, density, and stifieniug which they subse-
quently acquire. Secondly, the bill and feet are softer than those of the adults ; the corners of
the mouth are pufi"y and flabby, the edges and point of the bill are dull, and the scales, etc.,
of the legs are not sharply cut. Thirdly, the flesh itself is tender and pale colored. These are
some of the points common to all birds, and are independent of the special markings that
belong to the youth of particular species. Some birds are actually larger for a while after
leaving the nest, than in after years when the frame seems to shrink somewhat in acquiring
the compactness of senility. On the other hand, the various members, especially the bill and
feet, are proportionally smaller at first. Newly growing quills are usually recognized on sight,
the barrel being dark colored and full of liquid, while the vanes are incomplete. In studying,
for example, the shape of a wing or tail, there is always reason to suspect that the natural

MISCELLANEOUS PARTICULARS. 47

proportions are not yet presented, unless the quill is dry, colorless, and empty, or only occupied
with shrunken white pith.

Examination of the Stomach frequently leads to interesting observations, and is always
worth while. In the first place, we learn most unquestionably the nature of the bird's food,
which is a highly important item in its natural history. Secondly, we often secure valuable
specimens in other departments of zoology, particularly entomology. Birds consume incal-
culable numbers of insects, the harder kinds of which, such as beetles, are not seldom found
intact in their stomachs ; and a due percentage of these represent rare and curious species.
The gizzards of birds of prey, in particular, should always be inspected, in search of the small
mammals, etc., they devour; and even if the creatures are unfit for preservatitm, we at least
learn of their occurrence, perhaps unknown before in a particular region. MoUusk-feeding
and fish-eating birds yield their share of specimens. The alimentary canal is often the seat of
parasites of various kinds, interesting to the helminthologist ; other species are to be found
under the skin, in the body of muscle, in the brain, etc. Most birds are also infested with
external parasites of many kinds, so various that almost every leading species has its own sort
of louse, tick, etc. Since these creatures are only at home with a live host, they wUl be found
crawling on the surfiice of the plumage, preparing for departure, as soon as the body cools after
death. There is thus much to learn of a bird aside from what the prepared specimen
teaches, and moreover apart from regular anatomical investigations. Whenever practicable,
brief items should be recorded on the label, as already mentioned.

Restoration of Poor Sl{:ins. — If your cabinet be a ''general" one, comprising specimens
from various sources, you will frequently happen to receive skins so badly prepared as to be
unpleasant objects, besides failing to show their specific characters. There is of course no sup-
plying of missing parts or plumage ; but if the defect be simply deformity, this may usually be
in a measure remedied. The point is simply to relax the skin, and then proceed as if it were
freshly removed fi-om the bird ; it is what bird-stuffers constantly do in mounting birds from
prepared skins. The relaxation is effected by moisture alone. Remove the stuffing ; fill the
interior with cotton or tow saturated with water, yet not dripping ; put pads of the same under
the wings ; wrap the bill and feet, and set the specimen in a damp, cool place. Small birds
soften very readily and completely ; the process may be fiicilitated by persistent manipulation.
This is the usual method, but there is another, more thorough and more effective ; it is expo-
sure to a vapor-bath. The appointments of the kitchen stove furnish all the apparatus
required for an extempore " steamer;" the regular fixture is a tin vessel much like a wash-
boiler, with closed lid, false bottom, and stopcock at lower edge. On the false bottom is
placed a heavy layer of gypsum, completely saturated with water; the birds are laid on a
perforated tray above it ; and a gentle heat is maintained over a stove. The vapor penetrates
every part of the skin, and completely relaxes it, without actually wetting the feathers. The
time required varies greatly of course ; observation is the best guide. The chief precaution
is not to let the thing" get too hot. Professor Baird has remarked that crumpled or bent
feathers may have much of their original elasticity restored by dipping in hot water. Immer-
sion for a few seconds suffices, when the feathers will be observed to straighten out. Shaking
off superfluous water, they may be simply left to dry, or they may be dried with plaster. The
method is chiefly applicable to the large feathers of the wings and tail. Soiled plumage of
dried skins luay be treated exactly as in the case of fresh skins.

Mummification. — As before mentioned, decay may be arrested by injections of carbolic
acid and otlier antiseptics ; if the tissues be sufficiently permeated with these substances, the
body will keep indefinitely; it dries and hardens, becoming, in short, a " munuuy." Injection

48

FIELD ORNITHOLOGY.

should be done by the mouth and vent, be thorough, and be repeated several times as the
fluid dries in. It is an improvement on this to disembowel and till the belly with saturated
tow or cotton. Due care should be taken not to soil the feathers in any case, nor should the
carbolic solution come in contact with the hands, for it is a powerful irritant poison. I mention
the process chiefly to condemn it as an atrocious one ; I cannot imagine what circumstances
would recommend it, while only an extreme emergency could justify it. It is further objection-
able because it appears to lend a dingy hue to some plumages, and to dull most of them
perceptibly. Birds prepared — rather unprepared — in this way, may be relaxed by the
method just described, and then skinned; but the operation is rather difficult.

Wet Preparations. — ^By this terra is technically understood an object immersed in some
preservative fluid. It is highly desirable to obtain more information of birds than their stufi"ed
skins can ever furnish, and their structure cannot be always examined by dissection on the
spot. In fact, a certain small proportion of the birds of any protracted or otherwise " heavy "
collecting may be preferably and very profitably preserved in this way. Specimens in too
poor plumage to be worth skinning may be thus utilized ; so may the bodies of skinned birds,
which, although necessarily defective, retain all the viscera, and also aflord osteological mate-
rial. Alcohol is the liquid usually employed, and, of all the various articles recommended,
seems to answer best on the whole. I have used a very weak solution of chloride of zinc with
excellent results ; it should not be strong enough to show the slightest turbidity. As glass
b(jttles are liable to break when travelling, do not fit corners, and offer practical annoyance
about corkage, rectangular metal cans, preferably of copper, wnth screw-lid opening, are
advisable. They are to be set in small, strong, wooden boxes, made to leave a little room for
the lid wTench, muslin bags for doing up separate parcels, parchment for labels, etc. Unoc-
cupied space in the cans should be filled with tow or a similar substance, to prevent the
specimens from swashing about. Labelling sliould be on parchment ; the writing should be
perfectly dry before immersion ; india-ink is the best. Skinned bodies should be numbered to
correspond with the dried skin from w^hich taken; otherwise they may not be identifiable.
Large birds thro\^ii in imskinned should have the belly opened, to let in the alcohol freely.
Birds may be skiuued, after being in alcohol, by simply drying them : they often make fair
specimens. They are best withdrawn by the bill, that the "swash" of the alcohol at the
moment of emersion may set the plumage all one way, and huug up to dry untouched.
Watery moisture that may remain after evaporation of the alcohol may be dried with plaster.

Figs 1, 2. — Views of .iternum and pectoral arch of the ptarmigan, Lagopus albus. reduced; after A. New-
ton. 1, lateral view, with the bones upside down; 2, viewed from below, a, sternum or breast-bone, showing two
long slender lateral processes; fc. ends of sternal ribs; e, ends of humerus, or upper arm-bone, near the shoulder-
joint ; d, scapula, or shoulder-blade ; f , coracoid ; /, merry-thought, or furculum (clavicles).

Osteological and other Preparations (figs. 1-3 >. — While complete skeletonizing of
a bird is a special art of some difficulty, and one that does not fall within the scope of this
treatise, I may mention two bony preparations very readily made, and susceptible of rendering

MISCELLANEOUS PARTICULARS.

49

ornithology essential service. I refer to the skull, and to the breast-bone with its principal
attachn)cnts. These parts of the skeleton are, as a rule, so highly characteristic that they

zoological items. To save a skull
all intents ; but you often have
that are very profitably utilized
(figs. 1, 2, a) excepting when mu-
the skin, and for '* choice " invoices
nient. You want to remove along
bones connecting the breast-bone
the merry-thought (figs. 1, 2, /)
and the shoulder-blades (figs. 1, 2,
each other, for these bones collec-
girdle," or scapular arch. Slice
to the bone, and divide their in-
scrape or cut away the muscles
chest ; snip off the ribs (figs. 1, 2,
bone ; sever a tough membrane
of the wish-bone; then, by taking
at c), you can lift out the whole
tions underneath the bone and
require attention : the breast-bone
behind and on the sides (the corn-
extreme illustrations of this, as
cut by mistake for ribs, or to be
ally taper to a point, easily l)n>ken
thnes very delicate or defective,
advisable to make perfect prepara-
they are best dried with only super-
kled with arsenic. The skull, if
liable to lose the odd-shaped,
and the freely movable pair that
Great care should be exercised re-
boues, particularly the sternum,
number of the specimen to which
tied to the coracoid bone. A skull
for itself, and, besides, is not usu-
theless, any record tending to fa-
■p ^ "" H duly entered on the register. There

familiar, of making elegant bony
3. — Trachea or very good results by simply boil-
better, macerating them in water

afford in most cases invaluable
is of course to sacrifice a skin, to
mutilated or decayed specimens
in this way. The breast-bone
tilated, is always preservable with
may form its natural accompani-
with it the coracoids (the stout
with the shoulders, figs. 1, 2, e),
intervening between these bones,
(J), all without detachment from
tively constitute the "shoulder-
ntf the large breast muscles close
sertions into the wing-bones (c) ;
that tie the shoulder-blades to the
h) close to the side of the breast-
usually found between the prongs
hold of the shoulders (figs. 1, 2,
affair, dividing some slight counec-
behind it. The following points
often has long slender processes
mi in fowl and the ptarmigan are
shown in the figures i, liable to be
snapped ; the shoulder-blades usu-
iift'; the merry-thought is sonie-
When travelling, it is generally not
tions of either skull or sternum ;
fiiious riesh removed, and besi)rin-
perfectly cleaned, is particularly
pronged bones that hinge the jaw,
push on the palate from behind,
specting the identification of these
which should invariably bear the
it belongs; the label should be
is more likely to be able to speak
ally accompanied by a skin ; never-
cilitate its recognition should be
are methods, with which I am not
prejiarations. You may secure
ing the bones ; or, what is perhaps

F

;v -

Fig

win(l])ipe of tlie male red

breasted merganser, Mer-

till the flesh is completely rotted gus serrator, ahont \ nat. away, and then bleaching them in
the sun. A little potassa or soda (beh\ndTrafterN™vtoii."^! hastens the process. Withbreast-
l)ones, if you can stop the process tongue; B B, its attach- just when the flesh is completely
dissolved but the tougher ligaments S^\/th;''m"Srai^^ remain, you secure a "natural"
preparation, as it is called ; if the swelling below into a bony ligaments go too, the associate
parts of a large specimen may be X^'^^^^^^^^ tf iun-l"*'^'''^ "'^"'^^ together, those of a small
one glued. T think it best, with skulls, to clean them entirely of

ligament as well as muscle : for the underneath parts are usually those conveying the most
desirable informatidu. and they sliould not be in tlie slightest degree obscured. Since in such

50 FIELD ORNITHOLOGY.

case the anvil-shaped bones, the palatal cylinders already mentioned, and sometimes other
portions come apart, the whole are best kept in a suitable box. I prefer to see a skull with
the sheath of the beak removed, though in some cases, particularly of hard-billed birds, it
may profitably be left on. The completed preparations should be fully labelled by writing on
the bone, in preference to an accompanying or attached paper slip, which may be lost. Some
object to this, as others do to -WTiting on eggs, that it " defaces " the specimen ; but I confess
I see in dry bones no beauty but that of utility.

'' In many families of birds, as the ducks (Anatidrs), the trachea or windpipe of the male,
affords valuable means of distinguishing between the different natural groups, or even species,
chiefly by the form of the bony labyrinth, or bulla ossea, situated at or just above the divari-
cation of the bronchial tubes. A little trouble will enable the collector in all cases to preserve
this organ perfectly, as represented in the annexed engraving (fig. 3). Before proceeding to
skin the specimen, a narrow-bladed knife should be introduced iuto its mouth and by taking
hold of the tongue (A) by the fingers or forceps, the muscles {B B) by which it is attached to
the lower jaw should be severed as far as they can be reached, care being of course taken not
to puncture the windpipe (C C) ; and later in the operation of skinning, when dividing the
body from the neck or head, not to cut into or through it. This done, the windpipe can be
easily withdrawn entire and separated from the neck, and then the sternal apparatus being
removed as before described, its course must be traced to where, after branching off in a fork
(D), the bronchial tubes (E E) join the lungs. At these latter points it is to be cut ofi". Then
rinsing it in cold water, and leaving it to dry partially, it may, while yet pliant, be either
wrapped round the sternum, or coiled up and labelled separately." — (A. Newton.)

§ 9. — COLLECTION OF NESTS AND EGGS.

Ornithology and Oology are twin studies, or rather one includes the other. A collec-
tion of nests and eggs is indispensable for any thorough study of birds ; and many persons
find peculiar pleasure in forming one. Some, however, shrink from " robbing birds' nests"
as something particularly cruel; a sentiment springing, no doubt, from the sympathy and
deference that the tender office of maternity inspires ; but with all proper respect for the
humane emotion, it may be said simply, that birds'-nesting is not nearly so cruel as bird-
shooting. What I said in a former section, in endeavoring to guide search for birds, applies
in substance to hunting for their nests ; the essential difference is, that the latter are of
course stationary objects, and consequently more liable to be overlooked, other things being
equal, than birds themselves. Most birds nest on trees or bushes ; many on the ground
and on rocks ; others in hollows. Some build elegant, elaborate structures, endlessly varied
in details of form and material; others make no nest whatever. In this country, egging is
chiefly practicable in May and during the summer; but some species, particularly birds of
prey, begin to lay in January, while, on our southern border at least, the season of repro-
duction is protracted through September ; so there is really a long period for search. Par-
ticular nests, of course, like the birds that build them, can only be found through ornithological
knowledge; but general search is usually rewarded with a varied assortment. The best clew
to a hidden nest is the actions of the parents; patient watchfulness is commonly successful in
tracing the bird's home. As the science of oology has not progressed to the point of deter-
mining from tlie nests and eggs to what bird they belong, in even a majority of cases, the
utmf)St care in authentication is indispensable. To be worth anything, not to be worse
than worthless in fact, an egg must be identified beyond ([uestion ; must be not only
unsuspected, but above suspicion. A shade of suspicion is often attached to dealers' eggs ;
not necessarily implying bad faith or even negligence on the dealers' i)art, but from the nature
of the case. It is often extremely difficult to make an unquestionable detcrnunation, as for

COLLECTION OF NESTS AND EGGS.

51

instance when numbers of birds of similar habits are breeding close together ; or even impos-
sible, as in case the parent eludes observation. Sometimes the most acute observer may be
mistakeu, circumstances appearing to prove a parentage when such is not the fact. It is in
general advisable to secure the parent with the eggs : if shot or snared on the nest, the
identification is simply unquestionable. If y<m do not yourself know the species, it then
becomes necessary to secure the specimen, and retain it with the eggs. It is not required to
make a perfect preparation ; the head, or better, the head and a wing, will answer the purpose.
When egging in downright earnest, a pair of climbing irons, a coil of f inch rope, and a tin
collecting box filled with cotton, become practically indispensable; these are the only field
implements required in addition to those already specified.

Preparing Eggs. For blowing eggs, a set of special tools is needed. These are " egg-
drills," — steel implements with a sharp- pointed conical head of rasping surface, and a slender
shaft; several such, of different sizes, are needed; also, blow-pipes of dift'erent sizes, a delicate

Fig. 5. — Instriirnerits for blowing eggs; after Newton. a,b,
blow-pipes, i iiat. size : c, wire for cleansing tliem ; </, syringe, \
nat. size (the ring of the handle must be large enough to insert
the thumb); e, bulbous insufflator, for sucking eggs.

Kk;. 4. —Egg-drills, diflferent sizes, nat.
size ; after Newton.

thin pair of scissors, light spring for-
ceps, some little hooks, and a small
syringe. They are inexpensive, and
may be had of any dealer in natur-
alists' supplies. (See figs. 4-7.) Eggs
should never be blown in the old way of making a hole at each end ; nor are two holes any-
where usually required. Opening should be effected on one side, preferably that showing least
conspicuous or characteristic markings. If two are made, they should be rather near together ;
on the same side at any rate. But one is generally sufficient, as the ffuid contents can escape
around the blow-pipe. Holding the egg gently but steadily in the fingers,-' apply the point of

' The usual method of emptying eggs through one small hole is doubtless supposed to be a very modern trick j
but it dates back at least to 1828, when M. Danger proposed " a new method of preparing and preseving eggs for
the cabinet," which is practically the one now followed, though he used a three-edged needle to prick the hole,
instead of our modern drill, and did not appear to know some of our ways of managing the embryo. I make this
reference to his article to call attention to one of the tools he recommends, which I think would prove useful, aa
being better than the fingers for holding an egg during drilling and bh)wing. The simple instrument will be un-
derstood from a glance at the figure given in the Nuttall Bulletin, iii, 1878, p. 191. The oval rings are covered with
light fabric, like mosquito-netting or muslin, and do not touch the egg, which is held lightly but securely in the
netting. The cost would be trifling, and danger might be avoided by Danger's method.

52

FIELD ORNITHOLOGY.

the drill perpendicularly to the surface, unless it be preferred to prick with a needle first.
A twirlins; motion of the instrument gradually enlarges the opening by filing away the shell,
and so bores a smooth-edged circular hole. This should be no larger than is required to
insert the blow-pipe loosely, with room for the contents to escape around it. Nor is it always
necessary to insert the pipe ; a fine stream of water may be easily injected by holding the
instrument close to the egg, but not quite touching. The blowing should be continuous and
equable, rather than forcible ; a strong pufi" easily bursts a delicate egg. Be sure that all the
contents are removed; then rinse the interior thoroughly with clean water, either by taking a
mouthful and sending it through a blow-pipe, or with the syringe. Blowing eggs is a rather

fatiguing process, more so

than it might seem ; the

cheek muscles soon tire,

and the operator actually

becomes "blown" himself

before long. The opera-
tion had better be done

over a basin of water, both

to receive the contents, and

to catch the egg if it slip

from the fingers. The

membrane lining the shell

should be removed if pos-
sible. It may be seized by

the edge around the hole,

A^-itli the forceps, and

drawn out, or picked out

with a bent pin. But this

is scarcely to be accom-
plished in the case of fresh

eggs, when the membrane

may be simply pared

smoothly around the edge
of the hole. Eggs that have been incubated of course offer difi[i-
culty, in proportion to the size of the embryo. The hole may be
drilled, as before, but it must be larger ; and as the drill is apt to
split a shell after it has bored beyond a certain size of hole, it is often
well to prick, with a fine needle, a circular series of minute holes
almost touching, and then remove the enclosed circle of shell. This
must be very carefully done, or the needle will indent or crack the
shell, which, it must be remembered, grows more brittle towards
the time of hatching. Well-formed embryos cannot be got bodily through any hole that can
be made in an egg ; they must be extracted piecemeal. They may be cut to pieces with the
slender scissors intrt)duced through the hole, and the fragments be picked out with the
forceps, hooked out, or blown out. No embryo should be forced through a hole too small ;
there is every probability that the shell will burst at the critical moment. Addled eggs, the
contents of which are thickened or hardened, offer some difficulty, to overcome which persistent
syringing and repeated rinsing are required ; or it may be necessary to fiU them with water,
and faet them away for such length of time that the contents dissolve by maceration ; carbonate
of soda is said to hasten the solution ; the process may be repeated as often as may be necessary.
In no event must any of the animal contents be suffered to remain in the shell. When emptied

Fig. 6. — Scissors, knives, and forceps, ^ nat.
size ; after Newton.

Fig. 7. — Hooks for ex-
tracting embryos, nat. size ;
after Newton, a, b, c, plain
hooks ; d, bill-hook, liaving
cutting edge along the con-
cavity.

COLLECTION OF NESTS AND EGGS. 63

and rinsed, eggs should be gently wiped dry, and set hole downward on blotting-paper to
drain. ^ Broken eggs may be neatly mended, sometimes with a film of collodion, or a bit of
tissue paper and paste, or the edges may be simply stuck together with any adhesive substance.
Even when fragmentary a rare egg is worth preserving. Eggs should ordinarily be left empty ;
indeed, the only case in which any filling is admissible is that of a defective specimen to which
some slight solidity can be imparted with cotton. It is unnecessary even to close up the hole.
It is best, on all accounts, to keep eggs in sets, a "set" being the natural clutch, or whatever
less number was taken from a nest. The most scrupulous attention must be paid to accurate,
complete, and permanent labelling. So important is this, that the undeniable defacing of a
specimen, by writing on it, is no off'set to the advantages accruing from such fixity of record.
It is practically impossible to attach a label, as is done with a bird-skin, and a loose label is
always in danger of being lost or displaced. Write on the shell, then, as many items as
jiossible ; if done neatly, on the side in which the hole was bored, at least one good " show side "
remains. An egg should always bear the same number as the parent, in the collector's
record. In a general collection, where separate ornithological and oological registers are kept,
identification of egg with parent is nevertheless readily secured, by making one the numerator
the other the denominator of a fraction, to be simply inverted in its respective application.
Thus, bird No. 456, and egg No. 123, are identified by making the former -flf the latter ^^.
All the eggs of a clutch should have the same number. If the shell be large enough, the name
of the species should be written on it ; if too small, it should be accompanied by a label, and
may have the name indicated by a number referring to a certain catalogue. According to my
" Cheek List," for example, "No. 1 " would indicate Turdus migratorius. The date of collec-
tion is a highly desirable item; it may be abbreviated thus ; 3 | 6 ] 82 means June 3, 1882. It
is well to have the egg authenticated by the collector's initials at least. Since " sets " of eggs
may be broken up for distributions to other cabinets, yet permanent indication of the size of
the clutch be wanted, it is well to have some method. A good one is to write the number of
the clutch on each egg composing it, giving each egg of the set, moreover, its individual
number. Supposing for example the clutch No. -Jlf contained five eggs ; one of them would
be -J-ff I 5 I 1 : the next ||| | 5 | 2, and so on. But it should be remembered that all such
arliitrary memoranda must be systematic, and be accompanied by a key. Eggs may be kept
in cabinets of shallow drawers in little pasteboard trays, each holding a set, and containing a
jiaper label on which various items that cannot be traced on tlie shell are written in full.

' Reinforcing the Eggshell before Blowing. — Fig. 8 " shows a piece of paper, a number of which, when gummed
on to an egg, one over the other, and left, to dry, strengtlien the sliell in such a manner that the instruments above
described can be introduced through the aperture in the middle and worked to tlie best advantage, and thus a
fully formed embryo may be cut up. and tlie pieces extracted througli a very moderately
sized hole; the number of thicknesses required depends, of course, greatly upon the size
of the egg, the length of time it has been incubated, and the stoutness of the shell and
the paper. Five or six is the least number that it is safe to use. Each piece should bo
left to dry before the next is gammed on. The slits in the margin cause them to set
pretty smoothly, which will be found very desirable; the aperture in the middle of each
may be cut out lirst, or the whole series of layers niay be drilled through when the hole
is made in the egg. For convenience' sake, the papers may be prepared already gummed,
and moistened when put on (in the same way that adhesive postage labels are used).
Doubtless, patches of linen or cotton cloth would answer equally well. When the opera-
tion is over, a slight application of water (especially if warm) through the syringe will pj^ g_ _ jj^j gj^g
loosen them so that they can be easily removed, and they can be separated from one

another, and dried to serve another time. The size represented in tlie sketch is that suitable for an egg of mod-
erate dlmenslim, such as that of a common fowl. The most effectual way of adopting this method of emptying
eggs is by using very many layers of thin paper and plenty of thick gum, but this is, of course, the most tedious.
Nevertheless, it is quite worth the trouble in the case of really rare specimens, and they will be none the worse for
operating upon from the delay of a few days caused by waiting for the gum to dry and harden. The naturalist
to whom this method first occurred has fouml it answer remarkably well in every case that it has been used, from
the egg of an eagle to that of a humming-bird, and among English oijlogists it has been generally adopted."
I A. Newton, in Snnths. Misc. Coll. 139. 18G0.)

54 FIELD ORNITHOLOGY.

Such trays should all be of the same depth, — half an inch is a convenient depth for general
purposes ; and of assorted sizes, say from one inch by one and one-half inches up to three by
six inches ; it is convenient to have the dimensions regularly graduated by a constant factor
of, say half an inch, so that the little boxes may be set side by side, either lengthwise or
crosswise, without interference. Eggs may also be kept safely, advantageausly, and with
attractive effect, in the nests themselves, in which a fluff of cotton may be placed to steady
them. When not too bulky, too loosely constructed, or of material unsuitable for preservation,
nests should always be collected. ^ Those that are very closely attached to t\ngs should not be
torn off. Nests threatening to come to pieces, or too frail to be handled without injury, may
be secured by sewing through and throiigh with fine thread : indeed, tliis is an advisable pre-
caution in most cases. Packing eggs for transportation requires much care, but the precau-
tions to be taken are obvious. I will only remark that there is no safer way than to leave them
in their own nests, each wrajiped in cotton, with which the whole cavity is to be lightly filled ;
the nests themselves being packed close enough to be perfectly steady.

§ 10. — CARE OF A COLLECTION.

Well Preserved Specimens wiU last " forever and a day," so far as natural decay is
concerned. I have handled birds iu good state, shut back in the twenties, and have no doubt
that some eighteenth century preparations are still extant. The precautions against defilement,
mutilation, or other mechanical injury, are self-evident, and may be dismissed with the remark,
that white plumages, especially if at all greasy, require the most care to guard against soiling.
We have, however, to fight fi)r our possessions against a host of enemies, individually despica-
ble but collectively formidable, — foes so determined that untiring vigilance is required to ward
off their attacks even temporarily, whilst in the end they prove invincible. It may be said that
to be eaten up by insects is the natural end of all bird-skins not sooner destroyed.

1 "A Plea for the Study of Nests," made by i\Ir. Ernest Ingersoll in his excellent " Birds'-Kesting," suits
me so well that I will transcribe it. " Whether or not it is worth while to collect nests — for there are manj' per-
sons who never do so — is, it seems to me, only a question of room in the cabinet. As a scientific study there is far
more advantage to be obtained from a series of nests than from a series of eggs. The nest is something with which
the will and energies of the bird are concerned. It expresses the character of the workman ; is to a certain extent
an index of its rank among birds, — for in general those of the highest organization are the best architects, — and
give us a glimpse of the bird's mind and power to understand and adapt itself to changed conditions of life. Over
the shape and ornamentation of an egg the bird has no control, being no more able to govern the matter than it
can the growth of its beak. There is as much difference to me, in the interest inspired, between the nest and the
egg of a bird, as between its brain and its skull, — using the word brain to mean the seat of intellect. The nest is
always more or less the result of conscious planning and intelligent work, even though it does follow a hereditary
habit in its styles while the egg is an automatic production varying, if at all, only as the whole organization of
the bird undergoes change. Don't neglect the nests then. In them more than anywhei-e else lies the key to the
mind and thoughts of a birtl, — the spirit which inhabits that beautiful frame and bubbles out of that golden
mouth. And is it not this inner life, — this human sigmflcance in bird nature, — this soul of ornithology, that we
are all aiming to discover? Nesta are beautiful, too. What can surpass the delicacy of the humming-bird's home
glued to the surface of a mossy branch or nestling in the warped point of a pendent leaf; the vireo's silken ham-
mock ; the oriole's gracefully swaying purse ; the blackbird's model basket in the flags ; the snug little caves of the
marsh wrens; the hermitage-huts of the shy wagtails and ground-warblers, the stout fortresses of the sociable
swallows! Moreover, there is much that is highly interesting which remains to be learned about nests, and which
can only be known by paying close attention to these artistic masterpieces of animal art. We want to know by
what sort of skill the many nests are woven together that we find it so hard even to disentangle; we want to know
how long they are in being built; whether there is any particular choice in respect to location; whether it be a
rule, as is supposed, that the female bird is the architect, to the exclusion of her mate's efforts further than his
supplying a part of the materials. Many such points remain to be cleared up. Then there is the question of
variation, and its extent in the architect of the same species in different quarters of its ranging area. How far is
this carried, and how many varieties can be recorded from a single district, where the same list of materials is
open to all the birds equally? Variation shows individual opinion or taste among the builders as to the suitability
of this or that sort of timber or furniture for their dwellings, and observations upon it thus increase our acquaint-
ance with the scope of ideas and habits characteristic of each species of bird."

CABE OF A collection:

55

Insect Pests (Figs. 9, 10, 11, 12) with which we have to contend belong principally to the
two families Tineidce and Dermestidce — the former are moths, the latter beetles. The moths are
of species identical with; and aUied to, the common clothes moth. Tinea flavifrontella, the carpet
moth, T. tapetsella, etc., — small species observed flying about our apartments and museums,
in May and during the summer. The beetles are several rather small thick-set species, princi-
pally of the genera Dermestes and Anthrenus. I am able to figure species of these genera,
\\-ith their larval stages, and of two other genera, Ptinus and Sitodrepa, through the attentions
of Prof. C. V. Riley, the eminent entomologist. The larvae (" caterpillars" of the moths, and
"grubs " of the beetles) appear to be the chief agents of the destruction. The presence of the
mature insects is usually readily detected ; on disturbing an infested suite of specitnens the moths

I

Fig.

■Anthrenus scrofularicB, enlarged; the short line shows nat. size, a, h, larvje; c, pupa; d, imaga

jsSi^-

Fig. 10. — Dermestes tardarius, en- FiG. 11. — Sitodrepa pnnicea. Fig. 12. — Ptmus hrunneus.
larged. a, larva ; 6, an enlarged hair ; enlarged, a, imago; 6, its an-
c, imago. tenua, more enlarged.

flutter about, and the beetles crawl as fast as they can into shelter, or simulate death. The
insidious larvse, however, are not so easily observed, burrowing as they do among the feathers,
or in the interior of a skin ; whilst the minute eggs are commonly altogether overlooked. But
the "bugs" are not long at work without lea\4ng their unmistakable traces. Shreds of
feathers float off when a specimen is handled, or fly out on flipping the skin with the fingers,
and in bad cases even whole bundles of plumes come away at a touch. Sometimes, leaving the
plumage intact, bugs eat away the horny covering of the bill and feet, making a peculiarly
unhappy and irreparable mutilation. I suppose this piece of work is done by a particular
insect, but if so I do not know what one. It would appear that when the bugs effect lodgment
in any one skin, they usually finish it before attacking another, unless they are in great force.
We may consequently, by prompt removal of an infested specimen, save further depredations ;

56 FIELD ORNITHOLOGY.

nevertheless, the rest become "suspicious,'' and the whole drawer or box should be quaran-
tined, if not submitted to any of the processes described beyond. Our lines of defence are sev-
eral. We may mechanically oppose entrance of the enemy ; we may meet him with abhorrent
odors that drive him off, sicken or kill him, and finally we may cook him to death. I will
notice these methods successively, taking occasion to describe a cabinet under head of the first.

Cases for Storage or Transportation should be rather small, fur several reasons. They
are easier to handle and pack. There are fewer birds pressing each other. Particular speci-
mens are more readily reached. Bugs must eSect just so many more separate entrances to
infest the whole. Small lids are more readily fitted tight. For the ordinary run of small birds
I should not desire abox over 18x18x18, and should prefer a smaller one ; for large birds, a box
just long enough for the biggest specimen, and of other proportions to correspond fairly, is
most eligible. Whatever the dimensions, a proper box presupposes perfect jointing ; but if
any suspicion be entertained on this score, stout paper should be pasted along all the edges,
both inside and out. We have practically to do with the lid only. If the lot is likely to
remain long untouched, the cover may be screwed very close and the crack pasted like the
others. Under other and usual circumstances the lid may be provided with a metal boss fitting
a groove lined with india rubber or fiUed with wax. An excellent case may be made of tin
with the lid secured in this manner, and further fortified with a wooden casing. Birdskins
entirely free from insects or their eggs, encased in some such secure manner, will remain intact
indefinitely ; but there is misery in store if any bugs or nits be put away with them.

Cabinets. — As a matter of fact, most collections are kept readily accessible for examina-
tion, display, or other immediate use, and this precludes any disposition of them in "hermeti-
cal'' cases. The most we can do is to secure tight fitting of movable woodwork. The
"cabinet" is most eligible for private collections. This is, in efi"ect, simply a bureau, or chest of
drawers, protected with folding doors, or a front that may be detached, either of plain wood or
sashing for panes of glass. It is simply astonishing how many birdskins of average size can
be accommodated in a cabinet that makes no inconvenient piece of furniture for an ordinary
room. A cabinet may of course be of any desired size, shape, and style. In general it will be
better to put money into excellence of fitting rather than elegance of finish ; the handsomest
front does not compensate for a crack in the back or for a drawer that hitches. There should
not be the slightest flaw in the exterior, and doors should fit so tightly that a puff of air may
be felt on closing them. The greatest desideratum of the interior work, next after close
fitting yet smooth running of the drawers, is economy of space. This is secured by making
the drawers as thin as is consistent with stability ; by having them slide by a boss at each end
fitting a groove in the side wall, instead of resting on horizontal partitions ; and by hinged
countersunk handles instead of knobs. I do not recommend, except for a suite of the smallest
birds, a multiijlicity of shallow drawers, accommodating each one layer of specimens ; it is
better to have fewer deeper drawers, into which light shallow movable trays are fitted. These
trays never need be of stuff over one-eighth or one-fourth of an inch thick, and may have
bottoms of stiff pasteboard glued or tacked on. They may vary from one-half inch to two-
inches in depth, but this dimension should always be some factor of the depth of the drawer,
so that a certain number of trays may exactly fill it. They should be just as long as one
transverse dimension of the drawer, and rather narrow, so that two or more are set side by
side. Finally, though they may be of different depths, they should be of the same length and
breadth, so as to be interchangeable. They may simply rest on top of each other, or slide on
separate projections inside the drawer. Such trays are extremely handy for holding particular
sets of specimens, to be carried to the study table without disturbing the rest of the collection.

If a collection be so extensive that any particular specimen may nut be readily hunted up,.

CARE OF A COLLECTION. 57

it will be found convenient to have the drawers themselves labelled with the name of the
group within. A collection should always be methodically arranged — preferably according to
some approved or supposed natural classification of birds ; this is also the readiest mode, since,
with some conspicuous exceptions, birds of the same natural group are approximately of the
same size. If I were desired to suggest proportions for a private cabinet of most general
eligibility, I should say four feet high, by three feet wide, by two feet deep, in the clear; this
makes a portly yet not unwieldy looking object. It is wide enough for foldiug-doors, to be
secured by bolts at top and bottom, and lock ; not so high that the top drawer is not readily
inspected ; and of proportionate depth. Such a case will take seven drawers six inches deep
either of the full width, or in two series with a median partition; these drawers will hold
anything up to an eagle or crane. A part of them at least should have a full complement of
such trays as I have described, — say three or four tiers of the shallower trays, three trays to a
tier, each about tM'o feet long by about a foot wide ; and one or two tiers of deeper trays.

To Destroy Bugs. — In our present case prevention is not the best remedy, simply be-
cause it is not always practicable ; in spite of all mechanical precautions the bugs will get in.
We have, therefore, to see what will destroy them, or at least stop their ravages. It is a
general rule that any pungent aromatic odor is obnoxious to them, and that any very light
powdery substance restrains their movements by getting into the joints and breathing pores.
Both these qualities are secured in the ordinary "insect powder," to be had of any leading
druggist. It sliould be lavishly strewn on and among the skins, and laid in the corners of the
drawers and trays. Thus employed it proves highly effective, and is on the whole the most
eligible substance to use when a collection is constantly handled. Camphor is a valuable agent.
Small fragments may be strewn about the drawers, or a lump pinned in mosquito netting in a
corner. Benzine is also very useful. A small saucer full may be kept evaporating, or the
liquid may be sprinkled — even poured — directly over the skins ; it is very volatile and leaves
little or no staiu. It is, however, obviously ineligible when a collection is in constant use.
My friend Mr. Allen informs me he has used sulphide of carbon with great success. The
objection to this agent is, that it is a stinking poison ; should be used in the open air, to
escape the inefiably disgusting and deleterious odors, and its employ is properly restricted to
cases for storage. When the bill or feet show they are attacked, further depredation may
be prevented by pencilling with a strong solution of corrosive sublimate ; a weaker solution,
one that leaves no white film, on drying, on a black feather, may even be brushed over the
whole plumage. Mr. Eidgway tells me that oil of bitter almonds is equally efficacious. But
remember that these poisons must be used with care. Specimens may be buried in coarse
refuse tobacco leaves. One or another of these lines of defence will commonly prove successful
in destroying or driving oft" mature insects, and even in stopping the ravages of the larvae;
lint I doubt that any such means will kill the "nits." With these we must deal otherwise ;
and their destruction no less that that of their parents is assured, if we subject them to a high
temperature. Baking bird-skins is really the only process that can make us feel perfectly
safe. Infected specimens, along with suspected ones, should be subjected to a dry heat, from
212° F. up to any degree short of singeing the plumage. This is readily done by putting the
birds in a wooden tray in any oven — they must however be watched, unless you have special
contrivances for regulating the temperature. How long a time is required is probably not
ascertained with precision ; it will be well to bake for several hours. Wlien the beetles and
larvffi are found completely parched, it may be confidently believed that tlie unseen eggs are
<uu of tlie hatching way forever.

Two Items. — One is, that arsenic lielps to keep out the bugs, besides preventing decay
— a fact that sliould never be forgotten, and tliat should give sharper edge to my advice

58

FIELD ORNITHOLOGY.

respecting lavish use of the substance at the outset. If it be true, as some state, that bugs can
eat arsenic without dying, it is also true that they do not relish it ; and in entering a case of
skins they will burrow by preference in those holding the least of it. This fact is continually
exhibited in large collections, where if two birds be side by side, one being duly arsenicized
and the other not so, one will be taken and the other left. My second item, with its proper
deduction, will form, I think, a fitting conclusion to this treatise. It is a fact in the natural
history of these our pests, that they are fond of jieace and quiet, — they do not like to be dis-
turbed at their meals. So they rarely effect permanent lodgment in a collection that is con-
stantly handled, though the doors stand open for hours daily. As a consequence, the degree
of our diligence in studijing birdskins is likely to become the measure of our success in pre-
serving them. I once read a w'ork, by an eminent and learned divine, on the " Moral Uses of
Dark Things," under which head the author included everything from earthquakes to mos-
quitoes. If there be a moral use in the " dark thing " that museum pests certainly are to us,
w'e have it here. The very bugs urge on onr work.

Fig. 13. — Wilson's ScHOOL-HonsE, near Gray's Ferry. Philadelpuia. From a drawing by M. S.
Weaver, Oct. 22, 1841, received by Elliott Coues, February, 1879, from Malvina Lawson, daughter of Alexander
Lawson, Wilson's engraver. See article in the " Penn Monthly," June, 1879, p. 443. The drawing was first
engraved on wood, and publislied, by Thomas Meehan, in the "Gardener's ]\Ionthly," August, 1880, p. 248. The
present impression is from an electrotype of that wood-cut. The size of the original is 5.10 x 3.95 inches. This
reminder of early days of " Field Ornithology " in America may be further attested by the signature of

^^

Part II.

GENEKAL OENITHOLOGY:

AN OUTLINE OF THE

STRUCTURE AND CLASSIFICATION OF BIRDS.

§ 1. — DEFINITION OF BIRDS.

GENERAL ORNITHOLOGY, like Field Oruithology, is a subject with ^vhich the
student must have some acquaintauce, if he would hope to derive either pleasure or
profit from the Birds of North America. For any intelligent understanding of this subject, he
must become reasonably familiar with the technical terms used in describing and classifying
birds, and learn at least enough of the structure of these creatures to appreciate the characters
upon which all description and classification is based. Extensive and varied and accurate as
may be his random perception of objects of natural history, his knowledge is not scientific, but
only empirical, until reflection comes to aid observation, and conceptions of the significance of
what he knows are formed by logical processes in the mind. For

Science (Lat. scire, to know) is knowledge set in order — knowledge disposed after the
rational method that best shows, or tends to show best, the true relations of observed facts.
Sound scientific facts are the natural basis of all philosophic truth, and the safest stepping-
stones to religious faith — to that wisdom whicli comes only of knowing the relation which
material entities bear to spiritual realities. The orderly knowledge of any particular class of
facts — the methodical disposition of observations upon any particular set of objects — consti-
tutes a Special Science. Thus

Ornithology (Gr. opvi6os, omithos, of a bird ; \6yos, logos, a discourse) is the Science of
Birds. Ornithology consists in the rational arrangement and exposition of all that is known of
birds, and the logical inference of much that is not known. Ornithology treats of the physical
structure, physiological functions, and mental attributes of birds; of their habits and manners;
of their geographical distribution and geological succession; of their probable ancestry; of
their every rehition to one another and to all other animals, including man. The first business
•of Ornithology is to define its ground — to answer the question,

60 GENERAL ORNITHOLOGY.

What is a Bird? — There is every reason to believe that a Bird is a greatly modified
Reptile, being the otispring by direct descent of some reptilian progenitor; and there is no
reason to suppose that any bird ever had any other origin than by due process of hatching out
of an egg laid by its mother after fecundation by its father — just what we believe to have been
the invariable method during tlie period of the world known to human history. There is no
reason to believe that any bird was ever originally created and endowed with the characters it
now possesses ; bnt that every bird now living is the naturally modified lineal descendant of
parents that were less and less like itself, and more and more like certain reptiles, the further
removed they were in the line of avian ancestry from such birds as are now living. This is
the Darwinian logic of observed facts, ujion which the modern Theory of Evolution is based,
in opposition to the tradition of the special creation of every species of animal ; which latter
has no scientific basis whatever, and is consequently accepted as true by few thoughtful per-
sons who are capable of forming independent judgments. Accordingly,

Birds and Reptiles — even those of the present geologic epoch — share so many and
such important structural characters, that we unite the two classes, Aves and Eeptilia, in one
primary group of Vertebrata, or animals with a backbone. This group is called Sauropsida,
or reptiliform ; it is contrasted, on the one hand, with Ichtliyopsida, or fish-like vertebrates,
including Batrachians as well as Fishes; and, on the other, with Mammalia, the province of
Vertebrata which iucludes Man and all other animals that suckle their young. We find that

Sauropsida (Gr. a-avpos, sauros, a reptile; o-^n, opsis, appearance), or lizard-like Ver-
tebrates, agree with one another, and difi'er from other animals, in the fidlowing important
combination of characters, substantially as laid down by Professor Huxley — some of the char-
acters being shared by Ichtliyopsida, and some by Mammalia, but the sum of the characters
being distinctive of Sauropsida : They are all oviparous (laying eggs hatched outside the body
of the parent), or ovoviviparous (laying eggs hatched inside the body of the parent), being
never viviparous (bringing forth alive young nourished before birth by the blood of the mother).
The embryo develops those foetal organs called amnion and allantois, and is nourished before
hatching by a great quantity of yolk in the egg. There are no mammary glands to furnish
the young with milk after birth. The generative, urinary, and digestive organs coine together
behind in a common receptacle, the cloaca, or sewer, and their products are discharged by a
single orifice. The kidneys of the early embryo, called Wolffian bodies, are soon replaced
functionally by permanent kidneys, and structurally by the testes of the male and the ovaries
of the female. The cavity of the abdomen, or belly, is not separated from that of the thorax,
or chest, by a complete muscular partition, or diaphragm. The two lateral hemispheres of
the brain are not connected by a transverse commissure, or corpiis callosum. Air is always
breathed by true lungs, never by gills. The blood, which may be cold or hot, has red oval
nucleated corpuscles; the heart has either three or four separate chambers — four in birds, in
which the circulation of hot blood is completely double, i. e., in the lungs and right side of the
heart, in the body at large and left side of the heart. The aortic arches are several ; or if but
one, as in adult birds, it is the right, not the left as in Mammals. The centra, or bodies, of
the vertebrae are ossified, but have no terminal epiphyses. The skull hinges upon the back-
bone by a single median protuberance, or condyle, and tlie basioccipital part bearing the con-
dyle is completely ossified. The lower jaw, or mandible, consists of several separate pieces,
the articular one fif which hinges upon a movable quadrate bone; and there are other pecu-
liarities in the formation of the skull. Tiie ankle-joint is situated, not, as in Mammals, be-
tween the tarsal bones and those of the leg, but between two rows of tarsal brnes. The skin
is usually covered with outgrowths, in the form of scales or feathers. — Different as are any
living members of the class of Birds from any known Reptiles, the characters of the two groups

DEFINITION OF BIRDS. 61

converge in geologic history so closely, that the presence of feathers in the avian class, and
tlieir absence from the reptilian, is one of tlie most positive differences. The oldest known
birds are from the Jurassic rocks of Europe and North America. These birds had teeth, and
various other strong peculiarities of structure, which no living members of the class have
retained.

AVES, or the Class of Birds, may be distinguished from other Sauropsida by the
following sum of characters : The body is covered with feathers, a kind of skin-outgrowth
no other animals possess. The blood is hot; circulation is completely double; the heart is
perfectly four-chambered ; there is but one (the right) aortic arch, and only one pulmonary
artery springs from tlie heart ; the aortic and the pulmonary artery have each three semilunar
valves. The lungs are fixed and moulded to the cavity of the thorax, and some of the air-
passages run through them to admit air to other parts of the body, as under the skin and in
various bones. Reproduction is oviparous ; the eggs are very large, in consequence of the
copious yolk and white ; have a hard chalky shell, and are hatched outside the body of the
parent. There are always four limbs, of which the fore or pectoral pair are strongly distin-
guished frt)in the hind or pelvic pair by being modified into tvings, fitted for flying, if at all,
by means of feathers — not of skin as in the cases of such mammals, reptiles, and fishes as
can fly. The terminal part of the limb is compressed and reduced, bearing never more than
three digits,* only two of which ever have claws, and no claws being the rule. There are
not more than two separate carpals, or wrist-bones, in adult recent birds (with very rare
exceptions) ; nor any distinct interclavicular bone. The clavicles are complete (with rare ex-
ceptions), and coalesce to form a " wish-bone" or "merry-thought." The sternum, or breast-
bone, is large, usually carinate, or keeled, and the ribs are attached to its sides only ; it is
devek)ped from two to five or more centres of ossification. The sacral vertebrae proper have
no expanded ribs abutting against the ilia ; the ilia, or haunch-bones, are greatly prolonged
fi)rward; the socket for the head of the femur, or thigh-bone, is a ring, not a cup; the ischia
and puhes are prolonged backward in parallel directions, and neither of these bones ever unites
with its fellow in a ventral symphysis (except in Struthio and Bhea). The fibula, or outer
bone of the leg, is incomplete below, taking no part in the ankle-joint. The astragalus, or
upper bone of the tarsus, unites with the tibia, or inner bone of the leg, leaving the ankle-
joint between itself and other tarsal bones, the lower of which latter similarly unites with the
bones of the instep, or metatarsus. There are never more than four metatarsal bones, and the
same number of digits ; the first or inner metatarsal bone is usually free, and incomplete above ;
the other three anchylose (fuse) together, and with distal tarsal bones, as already said, to form
a compound tarso-metatarsus. Recent birds, at any rate, have a certain saddle-shape of the
ends of the bodies of some vertebrae. Such birds have also no teeth and no fleshy lips; the
jaws are covered with horny or leathery integument, as the feet are also, when not feathered.

The Position of the Class Aves among other Vertebrates is definite. Birds come in
the scale of development next below the Class Mammalia, and no close links between Birds
and Mammals are known ; the most bird-like known mammal, tlie duck-billed platypus of
Australia (Ornithorhynchus paradoxus), being several steps beyond any known bird. Birds
are tiie higher one of the two classes of Sauropsida — the lower class, Reptilia, connecting with
tlie Batrachians (frogs, toads, newts, etc.) and so with the Fishes, Ichthyopsida. In this Ver-
tebrate series. Birds constitute what is called a hifjJily specialized group ; that is to say, a very
particular off-shoot, or, more literally, a side-issue, of the Vertebrate genealogical tree, wliich
in the present geological era has become developed into very numerous (about 11,500) species,
closely agreeing witli one another in the sum of their physical characters. In comparison with
other classes of Vertebrates, all birds are mucli alike ; there is a less degree of difference among

62

GENERAL ORNITHOLOGY.

them than that among the members of any other classes of Vertebrates. Their likeness to
each other is strong, and their difference from any other Vertebrates is peculiar ; this makes
them the ''highly specialized" class they are recognized to be. The structural difference
between a Humming-bird and an Ostrich, for example, is not greater in degree than that
subsisting between the members of some of the orders of Reptiles ; whence some hold, witli
reason, that Birds should not form a class Aves, but an order, or at most a sub-class, of Saurop-
sida, and thus be compared not with a class Beptilia collectively, but with other Sauropsidau
orders, such as Chelonia (turtles), Sauria (lizards), Ophidia (serpents), etc. The practical
convenience of starting with a "class" Aves, however, is so great, that such classificatory
value will probably long continue to be ascribed, as heretofore, to Birds collectively. I have
spoken of Birds as a particular " side-issue " or lateral branch of the Vertebrate " tree of life " ;
hence it is not to be supposed that they are in the direct line of genealogical descent. Though
they stand as a group next below Mammals in the scale of evolution, it does not follow that
Mammals were developed from any such creature as a Bird has come to be, nor that Birds
have been evolved from any such Reptiles as those of the present day. It is one of the popu-
lar misunderstandings of the Theory of Evolution, to imagine that all the lower forms of ani-
mals are in the genetic line of development of the higher forms ; that man, for example, was
once a gorilla or a chimpanzee — actually such an ape. The theory simply requires all forms

of life to be developed from some ante-
cedent form, presumably, and in most
cases certainly, lower in the scale of or-
ganization. Thus man and the gorilla
are both descendants of some common
progenitor, more or less unlike either of
these existing creatures. All Mammals
are similarly the modified descendants
of some more primitive stock, from which
stock sprang also all Smtropsida, n^.edi-
ately or immediately ; therefore, a Mam-
mal is not a modified Bird, though higher
in the scale; and, though a Bird is a
modified Reptile, it is not a modification
of any such snake or lizard as now ex-
ists. The most bird-like reptiles known
are not the Pterodactyls, or Flying Rep-
tiles (Pterosatiria) , as might be sup-
posed ; but of that remarkable order, the
Ornithoscelida, comprising the Dinosau-
rians, which "present a large series of
modifications intermediate in structure
between existing Reptilia and J.fes,"
and are therefore inferentially in the
direct ancestral Hue of modern Birds.

Fig. 14. —Oldest known oniitliological treatise, illus-
trating also the art of lithography in the Jurassic period,
engraved by Archceopteryx lithographica. From the originnl
slab in the British Museum ; after A. Newton, Ency. Brit.

Geologic Succession of Birds. —

Birds have been traced back in geologic
time to Cretaceous and Jurassic epochs
of the Mesozoic or Mid-Life period of the world's history. The earliest ornithichnites — the
fossils so called because supposed to indicate the presence of Birds by their foot-prints — were
discovered about the year 1835 in the Triassic formation in Connecticut. But the creatures

DEFINITION OF BIRDS.

63

which made these tracks are now believed to have been Dinosaurian Reptiles. The oldest
ornitholite, or fossil certainly known to be that of a true Bird, is the famous ArchfEopteryx,
found by Andreas Wagner in 1861 in the Oolitic slate of Soleuhofen in Bavaria. This has
a long lizard-like tail of 20 vertebra?, from each of which springs a well-developed feather
on each side ; feathers of the wings are also well preserved ; bones of the hand are not fused
together, as they are in recent Birds ; and the jaws bear true teeth. This Bird has served as
the basis of one of the primary divisions of the class Aves ; though it has many reptilian char-

FiG. 15. —Restoration oi JhspirorHia n-fjalis. After Marsh.

acters, it is a true Bird. A Bird {Laopteryx prisons) believed to be also of Jurassic age was
discovered in 1881 in North America. The great gap between these ancient Avians and latter-
day birds has been to some extent bridged by the discovery in 1870-72 of Birds from Creta-
ceous formations of North America ; such genera as Ichthyornis and Hesperornis forming types
of two remarkable groups, Odontotormce and Odontolcce, or Birds with teeth in sockets, and
Birds with teeth in grooves. In both the tail is short, as in ordinary birds. In Ichthyornis,
though the wings are well developed, with fused metacarpals, and the sternum is keeled, the
vertebrse present the primitive character of being biconcave. In Hesperornis the vertebra3 are

64

GENERAL ORNITHOLOGY.

saddle-shaped, as usual, but the sternum is flat, as in existiug Ostriches, and the wings are
rudimentary, wanting metacarpals. Some 20 species of several other genera of American
Cretaceous Birds have been described. Remains of Birds multiply in the next period, the
Tertiary. Those of the Eocene or early Tertiary are largely and longest known from discov-
eries made in the Paris Basin, among them Gastornis jiarisiensis, as large as an Ostrich ; some
of these belong to extinct genera, others to genera which still flourish ; none are known to
have true teeth, or otherwise to be as primitive as the reptile-like forms of the Cretaceous.

Fig. 16. — B.estoTa,tioii ot Ickthy amis victor. After Marsh.

The Miocene or Middle Tertiary has proven specially rich in remains of Birds, including some
of extinct genera, but in largest proportion referable to modern types. Later Tertiary (Plio-
cene and Post-pliocene) birds almost all belong to living genera, and some are apparently of
living species. Extinct birds coeval with man, their bones bearing his marks, are found in
various caves. Subfossil birds' bones occur in shell-heaps (kitchenmiddens) and elsewhere, of
course contemporaneous with man, and some of them scarcely prehistoric. One of the oldest
of these is the gigantic JEpyornis maximus of Madagascar, of which we have not only the
bones, but the egg. The immense Moas, or Dinornithes of New Zealand, were among the

PRINCIPLES AND PRACTICE OF CLASSIFICATION.

65

later of these to die, portions of skin, feathers, etc., having been found. With Moa-remains

are found those of Harpagornis, a raptorial bird large enough to have preyed upon Moas.

Finally, various birds have been exterminated in historic times,

some of them within the lifetime of persons now living. The Dodo

of Mauritius, Didus ineptus, is the most celebrated one of these, of

the living of which we have documentary evidence down to 1681 ;

the Solitaire of Rodriguez, Pezopliaps solitarius, the Geant, Legua-

tia gigantea, and several others of the same Mascarene group of

islands, are in similar case. The Great Auk, Plautus impennis, is

supposed to have become extinct in 1844 ; a Parrot, Nestor pro-

ductus, was last known to be living in 1851 ; various Parrots, Rails,

and other birds have likewise disappeared within a very few years.

At least two North American birds, Pallas' Cormorant, Phalacrocorce

perspicillatus, and the Labrador Duck, Camjjtolcernus labradorius,

are lately deceased. (See Newton, Ency. Brit., 9th ed., art. Birds.)

§2.

PRINCIPLES AND PRACTICE OF CLASSIFICATION.

Having seen what a Bird is, and how it is distinguished
from other animals, our next business is to inquire how birds are
related to and distinguished from one another, as the basis of

Classification : a prime object of ornithology, without the at-
tainment of which birds, however pleasing they are to the senses, do
not satisfy the mind, which always strives to make orderly disposi-
tion of its knowledge, and so discover the reciprocal relations and
interdependencies of the things it knows. Classification presup-
poses that there do exist such relations, according to which we may
arrange objects in a manner which facilitates their comprehension, by bringing together what
is like, and separating what is unlike ; and that such relations are the results of evolutionary
law. It is, therefore.

Fig. 17. — Restoration of
Leguatia gigantea. From
Packard, after Schlegel.

Taxonomy (Gr. Ta|is, taxis, arrangement, and vofios, nomos, law), or the rational,
lawful disposition of observed facts. Just as taxidermy is the art of fixing a bird's skin in a
natural manner, so taxonomy is the science of arranging birds in the most natural manner —
in the way that brings out most clearly their natural affinities, and so shows them in their
proper relations to each other. This is the greatest possible help to the memory in its
attempt to retain its hold upon great numbers of facts. But taxonomy, which involves
consideration of the greatest problems of ornithology, as of every other branch of biology
(biology being the science of life and living things in general), is beset with gravest diffi-
■culties, springing fnnn our defective knowledge. We could only perfect our taxonomy by
having before us a specimen of every kind of bird that exists, or ever existed ; and by
thoroughly understanding how each is related to and differs from every other one. This is
obviously impossible; in point of fact, we do not know all the birds now living, and only
a small number of extinct birds have come to light; so that many of the most important
links in tlie chain of evidence are missing, and many more cannot be satisfactorily joined
together. With these springs of ignorance and sources of error must be reckoned also the
risk of going wrong through natural fallibility of the human mind. The result is, that
"natural classification,'' like the elixir of life or the philosopher's stone, is a goal still dis-
tant ; and as a matter of fact, the present state of the ornithological system is far from

6

66 GENERAL ORNITHOLOGY.

being satisfactory. It is obvious that birds, or any other objects, may be "classified" in
numberless ways — in as many ways as are afforded by all their qualities and relations, —
to suit particular purposes, or to satisfy particular bents of mind. Hence have arisen, in
the history of the science, very many different schemes of classification ; in fact, nearly every
leader of ornithology has proposed his own " system," and enjoyed a more or less respect-
able and influential following. Systems have been based upon this or that set of charac-
ters, and erected from this or that preconception in the mind of the systematist. Down to
quite recent days, modifications of the external parts of birds, particularly of the bill, feet,
wings, and tail, were almost exclusively employed for purposes of classification ; and the
mental point of view was, that each species of bird was a separate creation, and as much
of a fixture in Nature's museum as any specimen in the naturalist's cabinet. Crops of
classifications have been sown in the fruitful soil of such blind error, but no lasting har-
vest has been reaped. The confusion thus engendered has brought about the inevitable re-
action; and the newest fashion is decidedly the opposite extreme — that of counting external
features of little consequence in comparison with anatomical characters. Much ingenuity
has been wasted in arguing the superiority of each of these characters for the purposes of
classification ; as if a natural classification should not be based upon all points of structure !
as if internal and external characters were not reciprocal and mutually exponent! But the
genius of modern taxonomy seems to be so certainly right — to be tending so surely, even
if slowly, toward the desired consummation, that all differences of opinion, we may hope,
will be settled, and defect of knowledge, not perversity of mind, be the only obstacle left
in the way of success. The taxonomic goal is not now to find a way in which birds may
be most conveniently arranged, described, and catalogued ; but to discover their pedigree, and
thus construct their family tree. Such a genealogical table, or phylum (Gr. (f)v\ov, phnlon,
tribe, race, stock), is rightly considered the only taxonomy worthy the name, — the only true
or natural classification. In attempting this end, we proceed upon the belief that, as ex-
plained above, all birds, like all other animals and plants, are related to each other geneti-
cally, as offspring are to parents ; and that to discover their genetic relationships is to bring
out their true affinities — in other words, to reconstruct the actual taxonomy of Nature. In
this view, there can be but one "natural" classification, to the perfecting of which all in-
crease in our knowledge of the structure of birds infallibly tends. The classification now
used is the result of our best endeavors to accomplish this purpose, and represents what
approach we have made to this end. It is based upon principles of Evolution which most
naturalists are satisfied have been demonstrated. It is necessarily a

Morphological Classifleation — that is, one based solely upon consideration of structure
or form (/iop(^e, morphe, form) ; and for the following reasons : Every offspring tends to take
on precisely the structure or form of its parents, as its natural physical heritage ; and the
principle involved, or the law of heredity, would, if nothing interfered, keep the descendants
perfectly true to the physical characters of their progenitors; they would "breed true" and be
exactly alike. But counter influences are incessantly operative, in consequence of varying
conditions of environment ; plasticity of organization of all creatures rendering them more or
less susceptible of modification by such means, they become unlike their ancestors in various
ways and to different degrees. On a large scale is thus accomplished, by natural selection and
other natural agencies, just what man does in a small way in producing and maintaining dif-
ferent breeds of domestic animals. Amidst such shifting scenes, degrees of likeness or unlike-
ness of physical structure indicate with exactitude nearness or remoteness of organisms in
kinship. Morphological characters are therefore the surest guides we can have to the blood-
relationships we desire to establish ; and such relationships are the "natural affinities" which
classification aims to discover and formulate. As already said, taxonomy consists in tracing

PRINCIPLES AND PRACTICE OF CLASSIFICATION. 67

pedigrees and constructing the pMjlum; it is like tracing any leaf or twig of a tree to its
branclilet, this to its bough, this to its trunk or main stem. The student will readily perceive,
from what has been said, the impossibility of naturally arranging any considerable number of
birds in any linear series of groups, one after the other. To do so is a mechanical necessity of
book-making, where groups have to succeed one another, on page after page. Some groups
will follow naturally ; others will not ; no connected chain is possible, because no such single
continuous series exists in nature. In cataloguing, or otherwise arranging a series of birds for
description, we simply begin with the highest groups, and make our juxtapositions as well as
we can, in order to have the fewest breaks in the series.

Morphology being the only safe clue to natural affinities, and the key to all rational
classification, the student cannot too carefully consider what is meant by this term, or too
sedulously guard against misinterpreting morphological characters, and so turning the key the
wrong way. The chief difficulty he will encounter comes from physiological adaptations of
structure ; and this is something that must be understood. The expression means that birds,
or any animals, widely different in their morphological characters, may have certain parts of
their organization modified in the same way, thus bringing about a seemingly close resem-
blance between organisms not nearly related to each other. For example : a Phalarope, a
Coot, and a Grebe, all have lobate feet — that is, their feet are fitted for swimming in the same
way, namely, by development of flaps or lobes on the toes. A striking but superficial and
therefore unimportant resemblance iu a certain particular exists between these birds, on the
strength of which they used to be classed together in a group called Pinnatipedes, or " fin-
footed " birds. But, on sufficient examination, these three birds are found to be very unlike
in other respects; the sum of their unlikenesses requires us to separate them quite widely in
any natural system. The group Pinnatipedes is therefore unnatural, and the appearance of
affinity is proven to be deceptive. Such resemblance in the condition of the feet is simply
functional, or physiological, and is not correspondent with structural or morphological relation-
ships. The relation between these three birds is analogical ; it is an inexact superficial resem-
blance between things profoundly unlike, and therefore having little homological or exact
relationship. Analogy is the appai-ent resemblance between things really unlike — as the
wing of a bird and the wing of a bntterfiy, as the lungs of a bird and the gills of a fish.
Homology is the real resemblance or true relation between things, however different they may
appear to be — as the wing of a bird and the foreleg of a horse, the lungs of a bird and the
swim-bladder of a fish. Analogy commonly rests upon mere functional, i. e. physiological,
modifications ; homology is grounded upon structural, i. e. morphological, identity or unity.
Analogy is the correlative of physiology, homology of morphology; but the two may be coin-
cident, as when identical structures are used for the same purposes and are therefore physio-
logically identical. Physiological diversity of structure is incessant, and continually interferes
with morphological identity of structure, to obscure or obliterate the indications of affinity the
latter would otherwise express clearly. It is obvious that birds might be classified physiologi-
cally, according to their adaptive modifications or analogical resemblances, just as readily as
upon any otlier basis : for example, into those that perch, those that walk, those that swim,
etc. ; in fact, most early classifications rested upon such considerations. It is also evident,
that when functional modifications happen to be coincident with structural affinities — as when
the turning of the lower larynx into a music-box coincides with a certain type of structure —
such modifications are of the greatest possible service in classification. But since all sound
taxonomy rests on morphology, on real structural affinity, we must be on our guard against
those physiological "appearances" which are proverbially "deceptive." I trust I make the
principle clear to the student. Its practical application is another matter, only to be learned
in the school of experience. This question of

68 GENERAL ORNITHOLOGY.

Homology or Analogy may be thus summed : Birds are homologically related, or natu-
rally allied or affiued, according to the sum of like structural characters employed for similar
purposes ; they are analogically related according to the sum of uulike characters employed for
similar purposes. A Loon and a Cormorant, for instance, are closely affined, because they are
both fitted in the same way for the pursuit of their prey by flying under water. A Dipper
(family Cinclidce) and a Loou (family Gaviidce) are analogous, in so far as both are fitted to
pursue their prey by flying under water ; but they stand near opposite extremes of the ornitho-
loffical system ; they have little affinity beyond their common birdhood ; very difi'erent struc-
ture being modified to attain the same end. A Crow lias vocal organs almost identical in struc-
ture with those of a Nightingale, and the organization of the two birds is in other respects
very similar ; their affinity or homology is therefore close, though the Crow is a hoarse croaker,
the Nightingale an impassioned musician.

The Reason why Morphological Classification is so important as to require adoption
has been clearly stated by Huxley, whose words I cannot do better than quote in this connec-
tion. Speaking of animals, not as physiological apparatuses merely ; not as related to other
forms of life and to climatic conditions ; not as successive tenants of the earth ; but as fabrics,
each of which is built upon a certain plan, he continues : —

" It is possible and conceivable that every animal should have been constructed upon a plan of its own, having no
resemblance whatever to the plan of any other animal. For any reason we can discover to the contrary, that combina-
tion of natural forces which we term Life might have resulted from, or been manifested by, a series of infinitely diverse
structures ; nor would an3i;hing in the nature of the case lead us to suspect a community of organization between ani-
mals so different in habit and in appearance as a porpoise and a gazelle, an eagle and a crocodile, or a butterfly and a
lobster. Had animals been thus independently organized, each working out its Ufe by a mechanism peculiar to itself,
such a classification as that now under contemplation would be obviously impossible ; a morphological or structural
classification plainly implying morphological or structural resemblances in the things classified.

" As a matter of fact, however, no such mutual independence of animal forms exists in nature. On the contrary,
the members of the animal kingdom, from the highest to the lowest, are marvellously connected. Every animal has
something in common with all its fellows ; much, with many of them ; more, with a few ; and usually, so much with
several, that it differs but little from them.

" Now, a morphological classification is a statement of these gradations of likeness which are observable in animal
structures, and its objects and uses are manifold. In the first place, it strives to throw our knowledge of the facts which
underlie, and are the cause of, the similarities discerned, into the fewest possible general propositions, subordinated to
one another, according to their greater or less degree of generality ; and in this way it answers the purpose of a memoria
technica, without which the mind would be incompetent to grasp and retain the multifarious details of anatomical

"But there is a second and even more important aspect of morphological classification. Every group in that
classification is such in virtue of certain structural characters, which are not only common to the members of the group,
but distinguish it from all others ; and the statement of these constitutes the definition of the group.

"Thus, among animals with vertebrae, the class Mammalia is definable as those which have two occipital con-
dyles, with a well ossified basi-occipital ; which have each ramus of the mandible composed of a single piece of bone
and articulated with the squamosal element of the skull ; and which possess mammae and non-nucleated red blood-
corpuscles.

" But this statement of the characters of the class Mammalia is something more than an arbitrary definition.
It does not merely mean that naturalists agree to call such and such animals Mammalia : but it expresses, firstly, a
generalization based upon, and constantly verified by, very wide experience ; and, secondly, a belief arising out of that
generalization. The generalization is that, in nature, the structures mentioned are always found associated together ;
the belief is that they always have been, and always will be, found so associated. In other words, the definition of the
class Mammalia is a statement of a law of correlation, or coexistence, of animal structures, from which the most impor-
tant conclusions are deducible." (Introd. to Classif. of Animals, 8vo, London, 1869, pp. 2, 3.)

But broad as such laws of correlation of structure are, and important as are the conclu-
sions deducible, we must guard against presuming upon infallibility either of the data or of the
deduction, as the author just quoted goes on to show. Such caution is specially required where
there is no obvious reason for the particular combination that may be found to exist. In the
case of the ostrich-like birds (Ratitce), for example, we can understand how a flat, uukeeled
breast-bone, a particular arrangement of shoulder-bones, and a rudimentary state of wing-

PRINCIPLES AND PRACTICE OF CLASSIFICATION. 69

bones, are fouud in combination, because all these modilicatious of structure are evidently re-
lated to loss of power of flight ; and, in fact, no exception is known to the generalization, that
such conditions of sternal, coraco-scapular, and humeral bones always coexist. But in all
known struthious (ratite) birds, this state of the bones in mention coexists with a peculiar
modification of bones of the palate, and no necessary connection between these two sets of
diverse characters is conceivable. Now, if we only knew struthious birds, and found the com-
bination in mention to hold with them all, we should doubtless declare our belief, that any
bird having such palatal characters would also be found to possess such imperfect wing-appa-
ratus. But this would be going too far ; for we know that Tinamous (Dromoeognathce) have
such a palate, yet have a keeled sternum and functionally developed wings. To take another
case, derived from consideration of a large number of existing birds: it is an observed fact, that
a particular arrangement of plates upon the back of the tarsus, a peculiar modification of the
lower larynx or voice organ, and an undeveloped or abortive condition of the first large feather
on the hand, are found associated in a vast series of birds, constituting the group of Passeres
called Oscines. What possible connection there can be between these three separate and ap-
parently independent modifications we cannot even surmise ; but that they have some natural
and necessary connection we cannot doubt, and that the connection is causal, not fortuitous, is
a logical inference from the observed fact, that birds which present this particular combination
are also closely related in other structural characters — that is, that they have all been sub-
jected to operative influences which have conspired to produce the modifications observed.
Given, then, a bird with a known oscine larynx, but unknown as to its feet and wings, it
would be a reasonable inference that these members, when discovered, would present the char-
acters observed to occur in like cases. But the first Lark (Alaudidce) examined would show
this inference to be fallible ; for the tarsus of such a bird is diSerently disposed, though a lark
has an elaborate singing apparatus, and only nine instead of ten developed primaries. Once
more : the development of a keeled sternum, a peculiar saddle-shape of certain vertebrfe, and
lack of true teeth, are characters coexisting in all the higher birds ; and, as far as these birds
are concerned, we have no hint that such a combination is ever broken. In fact, however,
the singular Cretaceous Ichthyornis shows us a pattern of bird in which a well-keeled sternum
and perfectly formed wing coexist with teeth in reptile-like jaws and with fish-like biconcave
vertebras. What we learn from this case indeed breaks down one of the most precise definitions
we might have made (and indeed did make) respecting birds at large ; but in its failure we are
taught how great is the modification of geologically recent birds from their primitive gener-
alized ancestry; we learn something likewise of the steps of such modification, and of the
length of time required for the process. It is the history of attempts to frame definitions
of groups in zoology, that they are all liable to be negatived by new discoveries, and there-
fore to be broken down and require remodelling as our knowledge increases. It is to be
readily perceived that the ability to draw distinctions and make definitions of groups is as
much the gauge of our ignorance as the test of our knowledge; for all groups, like all species,
come to be such by modification so gradual, so slight in each successive increment of difference,
that, if all the steps of the process were before our eyes, we should be able to limit no groups
whatever in a positive, uuqualified manner. All would merge insensibly into one another, be
inseparably linked in as many series as there have been actual lines of evolutionary progress,
and finally converge to the one or few starting points of organized beings.

Practically, however, the case is quite the reverse — happily for the comfort of the work-
ing naturalist, however sadly the philosopher may deplore the ignorance implied. Degrees of
likeness and unlikeness do exist, which when rightly interpreted enable us to mark ofl' groups
of all grades with much facility and precision, and thus erect a morphological classification
which recognizes and defines such degrees, and explains them upon the principles of Evolution.
The way in which the principles of such classification are to be practically applied gives occa-
sion for some further remarks upon

70 GENERAL ORNITHOLOGY.

Zoological Characters. — A "character," iu zoological language, is any point of struc-
ture which may be perceived and described for the purpose of comparing or contrasting animals
with one another. Thus, conditions of sternum, palate, tarsus, larynx, as noted in preceding-
paragraphs, are each of them "characters" which may be used in describing individual
birds, or in framing definitions of groups of birds. Morphological characters, with which the
classification we have adopted alone concerns itself, may be derived from the structure of a
bird considered in any of its relations, or as afi'ected by any of the conditions to which it is
subjected. Thus emhryological characters are those afi'orded by the bird during the progress
of its development in the egg, from the almost structureless germ to the fully formed chick.
Such characters of the embryo in its successive stages are of the utmost significance ; for it is
a fact, that the germ of each of the higher organisms goes through a series of developmental
changes which, at each succeeding step in the unfolding of its appropriate plan of structure,
causes it to resemble the adult state of animals lower than itself in the scale of organization.
In fine, the history of the evolution of every individual bird epitomizes tiie history of those
changes which birds collectively have undergone in becoming what they are by modified
descent from lower organisms. Such transitory stages of any embryo, therefore, give us
glimpses of those revolutionary processes which have afi'ected the group to which it belongs.
Any bird, for example, when a germ, is at first on the plane of organization of the very lowest
known creatures — it is one of tlie Protozoa. As its germ develops, and its structure becomes
more complicated by the formation of parts and organs successively difi'erentiated and special-
ized, it rises higher and higher in the scale of being. At a certain stage very early reached
(for the steps by which it becomes like any invertebrate are very speedily passed over), it
resembles a fish in possessing gill-like slits, several aortic arches, no true kidneys, no amnion,
etc. Further advanced, losing its gills, gaining kidneys and amnion, etc., it rises to the
dignity of a reptile, and at this stage it is more like a reptile than like a bird ; having, for
example, a number of separate bones of the wrist and ankle, no feathers, etc. The assump-
tion of its own appropriate characters, i. e. , those by which it passes from a reptilian creature
to become a bird, is always the last stage. We can thus actually see, inside any egg-shell,
exactly those progressive steps of development of the individual bird which we believe to have
been taken on a grand scale in nature for the evolution of the class Aves from lower forms of
life; and the lesson learned is fraught with significance. It is nothing less than the demon-
stration in ontogeny (genesis of the individual) of that plujlogeny (genesis of the phylum) by
which groups of creatures come to be. The interior of any adult bird, again, furnishes us with all
kinds of ordinary anatomical characters, derived from the way we perceive the diflerent organs
and systems of organs to be fashioned in themselves, and arranged with reference to one
another. The finishing of the outward parts of a bird gives us the ordinary external characters,
in the way in which the skin and its appendages are modified to form the covering of the bill
and feet, and to fashion all kinds of feathers. Birds being of opposite sexes, and such difi'er-
ence being not only indicated in the essential sexual organs, but usually also in modifications
in size or shape of the body or quality of the plumage and other outgrowths, a set of sexual
characters are at our service. Birds are also sensibly modified in their outward details of
feathering by times of the year when the plumage is changed, and this renders appreciation
of seasonal characters possible. All such circumstances, and others that could be mentioned,
such as effects of climate, of domestication, etc., in so far as they aff'ect the structure of birds,
conspire to produce zoological "characters," as these are above defined. Such characters,
according as they result from m(jre or less profound impressions made upon the organism, are
of more or less " value" in taxonomy ; being of all grades, from the trivial ones that serve to
distinguish the nearest related species or varieties, to the fundamental ones that serve to mark
off" primary divisions. Thus the " character " of possessing a backbone is common to all ani-
mals of an immense series, called Vertebrata. The " character " of feathers is common to all

PRINCIPLES AND PRACTICE OF CLASSIFICATION. 71

the class Aves ; of toothless jaws to all modern birds ; of a keeled sternum to all the sub-class
CarinattE ; of feet fitted for perching to all Passeres ; of a musical apparatus to all Oscines ;
of nine primaries to all FrinjiUidee ; of crossed mandibles to all of the genus Loxia ; of white
bands on the wings to all of the species Loxia leucoptera. There is thus seen a sliding scale
or valuation of characters, from those involving the most profound or primitive modifications
of structure to those resting upon the most superficial or ultimate impressions. It will also be
obvious, that every ulterior modification presupposes inclusion of all the prior ones ; for a
White-winged Crossbill, to be itself, must be a loxian, fringilline, oscine, passerine, cariuate,
modern, avian, vertebrated animal. The more characters, of all grades, that birds share in
common, the more closely are they related, and conversely. Obviously, possession of more or
fewer characters in common results in

Degrees of Likeness, — Were all birds alike, or did they all difi"er by the same charac-
ters to the same degree, no classification would be possible. It is a matter of fact, that they
do exhibit all degrees of likeness possible within liinits of their Avian nature ; it is a matter of
belief, that these degrees are the necessary result of Evolution, — of descent with modification
from a common ancestry ; and that, being dependent upon that process, they are capable of
explaining it if rightly interpreted. For example : Two White-winged Crossbills, hatched in
the same nest, scarcely difi"er perceptibly (except in sexual characters) from each other and
from the pair that laid the eggs. We call them "specifically" identical; and the sum of the
differences by which they are distinguished from any other kinds of Crossbills is their "spe-
cific character." All the individual Crossbills which exhibit this j)articular sum constitute a
"species." In this case, the genetic relationship of ofi"spring and parent is unquestionable; it
is an observed fact. Now turn to the extremely opposite case. The diff'erence between our
Crossbills and the Jurassic Archceopteryx is the greatest known to subsist between any two
birds whatsoever. But Archceopteryx and Loxia are also separated by an immense interval
of time, and presumably by correspondingly enormous difi"erences in conditions of environment
— in their physical surroundings. It is a logical inference that these two things — difference
in physical structure, and difference in physical environment — are in some way correlated and
coordinated. If we presume, u[)on the theory of evolution, that despite the great difl'erence, a
Crossbill is genetically related to some such bird as an Archceopteryx, as truly as it is to its
actual parents, only much more remotely, and that the difference is due to modifications im-
pressed upon its stock in the course of time, conformably with changing conditions of environ-
ment, we shall have a better explanation of the difference than any other as yet offered — an
explanation, moreover, which is corroborated by all the related facts we know, and with which
no known facts are irreconcilable. But to correctly gauge and fonnulate the degrees of like-
ness or unlikeness between any two birds is to correctly "classify'' them ; and if these degrees
rest, as we believe they do, upon nearness or remoteness of genetic relationship, classification
upon such basis becomes the truest attainable formulation of "natural affinities." It is the
province of morphological classification to search out those natural affinities which the structure
of birds indicates, and express them by dividing birds into groups, and subdividing these into
other groups, of greater or lesser "value," or grade, according to the more or fewer characters
shared in common — that is, according to degrees of likeness — that is, again, according to
genealogical relationship or consanguinity.

Zoological Groups. — To carry any scheme of classification into practical effect, natu-
ralists have found it necessary to invent and apply a system of grouping objects whereby the
like may come together and be separated from the unlike. They have also found it expedient
to give names to all these groups, of whatever grade, such as class, order, family, geniis,
species; and to stamp each such group with the value of its grade, or its relative rank in the

72 GENERAL ORNITHOLOGY.

scale, so that it may become currency among naturalists. The student must observe, in the
first place, that the value of each such coinage is wholly arbitrary, until sanctioned and fixed
by common consent. The term "class," for example, simply indicates that naturalists agree
to use that word to designate a conventional group of a particular grade or value. Indispens-
able as is some such acceptable medium of exchange of ideas among naturalists, their groups
are not fixed, have no natural value, and in fact have no actual existence in the treasury of
Nature. It cannot be too strongly impressed upon the student that Nature makes no bounds
— Natura nan facit saltus ; there are no such abrupt transitions in the unfolding of Nature's
plan, no such breaks in the chain of being, as he would be led to suppose by our method of
defining and naming groups. He must consider the words "class," "order," etc., as wholly
arbitrary terms, invented and designed to express our ideas of the relations which subsist be-
tween any animals or sets of animals. Thus, for example, by the term "Class of Birds" we
signify simply the kind and degree of likeness which all birds share, such being also the kind
and degree of their unlikeness from any other animals; the word "class" being simply the
name or handle of the generalization we make respecting their relations with one another and
with other animals ; it represents an abstract idea, is the expression of a relation. True, all
birds embody the idea; but "class" is nevertheless an abstraction. Now, as intimated earlier
in this essay, definition of the idea we attach to the term — limitation of the class Aves — de-
pends entirely upon how much we know of the relation intended to be expressed. It so hap-
pens, that no animals are known which cannot be decided to belong, or not to belong, to the
conventional Class of Birds, because we have found it convenient and expedient to consider the
presence of feathers a fair criterion, or necessary qualification. But what if an animal be dis-
covered the covering of whose body is half-way between the scales of a lizard and the plumes
of a bird, and whose structure is otherwise as equivocal f This may happen any day. A feather
is certainly a modified scale ; a feather has doubtless been developed out of a scale. In the
case supposed, we should have to modify our definition of the " Class of Birds"; that is, change
our ideas upon the subject, and alter the boundary-line we established between the classes of
birds and reptiles; whereas, were a "class" something naturally definite, independent, and
fixed, all that we could learn about it would only tend to establish it more surely. The same
obscurity and uncertainty of definition attaches to groups of every grade — from the Animal
" Kingdom " itself, which cannot be cut clear of the Vegetable " Kingdom " — down through
classes, orders, families, genera, species, and varieties — yes, to the individual itself which,
however unmistakable among higher organisms, cannot always be predicated of the lowermost
forms of Life. Such divisions, of whatever grade, as we are able to establish for the purposes
of classification, depend entirely upon the breaks and defects in our knowledge. There is no
such thing as drawing " hard and fast" lines anywhere, for none such exist in Nature.

Taxonomic Equivalence of Groups. — But, however arbitrary they may be, or however
obscure or fluctuating may be their boundaries, groups we must have in zoology, and groups
of different grades, to express diS'erent degrees of likeness of the objects examined, and so
to "classify" them. It is a great convenience, moreover, to have a recognized sliding-scale
of valuation of groups from the highest to the lowest, and an accepted valuation. Just as in a
thermometric scale, there are " degrees " designated as those of the boiling-point of water, the
heat of the blood, the freezing of water, of mercury, etc. ; so there are certain degrees of like-
ness conventionally designated as those of class, order, family, genus, and species ; always ac-
cepted in the order here given, from higher to lower groups. (There are various others, and
especially a number of intermediate groups, generally distinguished by the prefix suh-, as suh-
family ; but those here given are generally adopted by English-speaking naturalists, and
suifice to illustrate the point I wish to make.) It may sound like a truism to say, that groups
of the same grade bearing the same name, whatever that may be, must be of the same value,

PRINCIPLES AND PRACTICE OF CLASSIFICATION. 73

— must be based upon and distinguished by characters of equal or equivalent importance.
Equivalence of groups is necessary to the stability and harmony of any classificatory system.
It will not do to frame an order upon one set of characters here, and there a family upon a
similar set of characters ; but order must differ from order, and family from family, by au equal
or corresponding amount of difference. Let a group called a family differ as much from the
other families in its own order as it does from some other order, and by this very circumstance
it is not a family but an order itself. It seems a very simple proposition, but it is too often
ignored, and always with practical ill result. Two points should be remembered here : First,
that absolute size or numerical bulk of a group has nothing to do with its taxonomic value:
one order may contain a thousand species, and another be represented by a single species,
without having its ordinal valuation affected thereby. Secondly, any given character may as-
sume different importance, or be of different value, in its application to different groups. Thus,
the number of developed primaries, whether nine or ten, is a family character almost throughout
Oscines ; but in one oscine family (Vireonidts) it has scarcely generic value. It is difficult,
however, to determine such a point as this without long experience. Nor is it possible, in
fact, to make our groups correspond in value with entire exactitude. The most we can hope
for is a reasonable approximation. As in the thermometric simile above given, " blood heat"
and other points fluctuate, so does order not always correspond with order, nor family with
family, in actual significance. What degree of difference shall be "ordinal"? What shall
be a difference of "family"? What shall be "generic" and what "specific" differences?
Such questions are more easily asked than answered. They demand critical consideration.

Valuation of Characters. — In a general way, of course, the gi-eater the difference
between any two objects, the more "important" or "fundamental" are the characters by
which they are distinguished. But what makes a character "important" or the reverse?
Obviously, what it signifies represents its importance. We are classifying morphologically,
and upon the theory of Evolution ; and in such a system a character is important or the
reverse, simply as an exponent of the principles, or an illustration of the facts, of evolutionary
processes of Nature, according to the unfolding of whose plans of animal fabrics the whole
structure of living beings has been built up. Why is possession of a back-bone such a
" fundamental " character that it is used to establish one of the primary branches of the ani-
mal kingdom ? It is not because so many millions of creatures possess it, but because it was-
introduced so early in the evolutionary process, and because its introduction led to the most
profound modification of the whole structure of the animals which became possessed of a ver-
tebral column. Why is possession by a bird of biconcave vertebrae so significant ? Not be-
cause all modern birds have saddle-shaped vertebrae, but because to have biconcave vertebrae
is to be fish-like in that respect. Why is presence or absence of teeth so important ? Not that
teeth served those old birds better than a horny beak serves modern ones, but because teeth
are a reptilian character. Obviously, to be fish-like or reptile-like is to be by so much unbird-
like; the degree of difference thus indicated is enormous; and a character that indicates such
degree of difference is proportionally " important " or " fundamental." By knowledge of facts
like these, and by the same process of reasoning, a naturalist of tact, sagacity, and experience
is able to put a pretty fair valuation upon any given character ; he acquires the faculty of per-
ceiving its significance, and according to what it signifies does it possess for him its taxonomic
importance. As a matter of fact, it seems that characters of all sorts are to be estimated
chronologically. For, if animals have come to be what they are by any process that took time
to be accomplished, characters earliest established are likely to be the most fundamental ones,
upon the introduction of which the most important train of consequences ensued. Feathers,
for example, as Archccopteryx teaches us, were in full bloom in the Jurassic period, and they
are still the most characteristic possession of birds : all birds have them ; no other animals

74 GENERAL ORNITHOLOGY.

have them ; they are a class character. If they had been taken on quite recently, we may
infer that many creatures otherwise entirely avian might not possess them, and they would
have in classification less significance than that now rightly attributed to them. On the other
hand, we cannot suppose that the finishing touches, by which, in the presence of white bands
on the wings oi Loxia leucoptera, and their absence in Loxia ciirvirostra, these two " species "
are distinguished, were not very lately given to these birds. It is a very late step in the
process, and correspondingly insignificant; it is of that value or importance which we call
"specific." The same method of reasoning is available for determining the value of any
character whatever, and so of estimating the grade of the group which we establish upon such
character. As a rule, therefore, the length of time a character has been in existence, and its
taxonomic value, are correlated, and each is the exponent of the other.

" Types of Structure." — In no department of natural history has the late revolution in
biological thought been more efi'ective than in remodeling, presumably for the better, the
ideas underlying classification. lu earlier days, when "species" were supposed to be inde-
pendent creations, it was natural and almost inevitable to regard them as fixed facts in nature.
A species was as actual and tangible as an individual, and the notion was, that, given any two
specimens, it should be perfectly possiI>le to decide whether they were of the same or difierent
species, according to whether or not they answered the "specific characters" laid down for
them. The same fancy vitiated all ideas upon the subject of genera, families, and higher
groups. A "genus" was to be discovered in nature, just like a species; to be named and
defined. Then species that answered the definition were "typical;" those that did not do so
well were "sub-typical;" those that did worse, were "aberrant." A good deal was said of
"types of structure," much as if living creatures were originally run into moulds, like casting
type-metal, to receive some indelible stamp ; while — to carry out my simile — it was supposed
that by looking at some particular aspect of such an animal, as at the face of a printer's type,
it could be determined in what box in the case the creature should be put; the boxes them-
selves being supposed to be arranged by Nature in some particular way to make them fit
perfectly alongside each other by threes or fives, or in stars and circles, or what not. How
much ingenuity was wasted in striving to put together such a Chinese puzzle as these fancies
made of Nature's processes and results, I need not say ; suflBce it, that such views have become
extinct, by the method of natural selection, and others, apparently better fitted to survive, are
now in the struggle for existence. Rightly appreciated, however, the expression which heads
this paragraph is a proper one. There are numberless "types of structure." It is perfectly
proper to speak of the " vertebrate type," meaning thereby the whole plan of organization of
any vertebrate, if we clearly understand that such a type is not an independent or original
model conformably with which all back -boned animals were separately created, but that it is
one modification of some more general plan of organization, the unfolding of which may or
did result in other besides vertebrated animals ; and that the successive modifications of the
vertebrate plan resulted in other forms, equally to be regarded as "types," as the reptilian,
the avian, the mammalian. Upon this understanding, a group of any grade in the animal
kingdom is a "type of structure," of more general or more special significance, presumably
according to the longer or shorter time it has been in existence. An individual specimen is
"typical" of a species, a species is "typical" of a genus, etc., if it ha.s not had time enough
to be modified away from the characters which such species or genus expresses. Any set of
individuals, that is, any progeny, which become modified to a degree from their progenitors,
introduce a new type; and contiimally increasing modification makes such a type specific,
generic, and so on, in succession of time. There must have been a time, for example, when
the Avian and Reptilian "types" began to diverge from each other, or, rather, to branch
apart from their common ancestry. In the initial step of their divergence, when their respec-

PRINCIPLES AND PRACTICE OF CLASSIFICATION. 75

tive types were beginning to be fornied, the difference must have been infinitesimal. A little
further along, the increment of difi'erence became, let us say, equivalent to that which serves
to distinguish two species. Wider and wider divergence increased the difi'erence till genera,
families, orders, and finally the classes of Reptilia and Aves, became established. In one sense,
therefore, — and it is the usual sense of the term, — the " type " of a bird is that one which is
furthest removed from the reptilian type, — which is most highly specialized by diflereutiation
to the last degree from the characters of its primitive ancestors. One of the Oscines, as a
Thrush or Sparrow, would answer to such a type, having lost the low, primitive, generalized
structure of its early progenitors, and acquired very special characters of its own, representing
the extreme modification which the stock whence it sprung has undergone. In a broader
sense, however, the type of a bird is simply the stock from which it originated ; and in such
sense the highest birds are the least typical, being the furthest removed and the most modified
derivatives of such stock, the characters of which are consequently remodeled and obscured
to the last degree. Two opposite ideas have evidently been confused in the use of the word
" Type." They may be distinguished by inventing the word teleotype (Gr. Ti\eosi teleos, final,
i. e., accomplished or determined) in the usual sense of the word type, and using the word we
already possess, prototype (Gr. Trpayros, protos, first, leading, determining), in the broader sense
of the earlier plan whence any teleotype has been derived by modification. Thus, Archceop-
teryx is prototypic of modern birds, all of which latter are teleotypic of their ancestors. It
may be further observed that any form which is teleotypic in its own group, is prototypic of
those derived from it. Thus, the Archceopteryx, so prototypic of modern birds, was a very
highly specialized teleotype of its own ancestry. A little reflection will also make it clear that
the same principle of antitypes (opposed types) is applicable to any of our groups in zoology.
Any group is teleotypic of the next greater group of which it is a member; prototypic of the next
lesser one. Any species is teleotypic of its genus; any genus, of its family; any family, of its
order ; and conversely ; that is to say, any species represents one of the ulterior modifications
of the plan of its genus. The Class of Birds, for example, is one of the several teleotypes of
Vertebrata, i. e., of the vertebrate plan of structure; representing, as it does, one of several
ways in which the vertebrate prototype is accomplished. Conversely, the Class of Birds is
prototypical of its several orders, representing the plan which these orders severally unfold in
different ways. And so on, throughout any series of animals, backwards and forwards in the
process of their evolution; any given form being teleotypic of its predecessors, prototypic of its
successors. All existing forms are necessarily teleotypic — only prototypic for the future. Pro-
totype, in the sense here conveyed, indicates what is often expressed by the word archetype.
But the latter, as I understand its use by Owen and others, signifies an ideal plan never actually
realized; the "archetype of the vertebrate skeleton," for example, beiug something no verte-
brate ever possessed, but a theoretical model — a generalization from all known skeletons. The
correspondence of my use of "prototypic" with a common employ of "archetypic," and of
" teleotypic " as including both " attypic " and " etypic," is noted below.^

The actual and visible genetic relationships of living forms being practically restricted to
individuals of the same species — parents and offspring " specifically "' identical — it would seem
at first sight that species must be the modified descendants of their respective genera, in order

* '^Archetypical characters are those which a group derives from its progenitor, and with which it commences,
but which in much modified descendants are lost ; such, for example, is the dental formula of the Educabilia (M ^ PM }
C n 3 X 2), — a formula, as shown by Owen, very prevalent among early members of the group, but generally departed
from more or less in those of the existing faunas. Alli/pical characters are those to the acquisition of which, as a matter
of fact, we find that forms, in their journey to a specialized condition, tend . . . Etypicnl characters are exceptional
ones, and which are exhibited by an eccentric offshoot from the common stock of a group." {GUI, Pr. Am. Assoc. Adv.
Sci. XX, 1873, p. 293.) To illustrate in birds: A generalized lizard-like type of sternum \s archetypic oi any bird's ster-
num. The sternum of the lizard-like animals whence birds actually descended is prototypic ; the keeled sternum of a
cariuate bird is ntlypicnl in most birds, etypical in the peculiar state in which it is found in Stringops ; but equally
teleotypic in both instances.

76 GENERAL ORNITHOLOGY.

to be teleotypic of any such next higher group. But nothiug descends from a genus, or any
other group ; everything descends from individuals ; a " genus," like any other group, is an ab-
stract statement of a relation, not a begetter of anything. To illustrate : the " genus Turdus"
is represented by many species : if these species be rightly allocated in the genus, they are all
the modified descendants of a form which vpas, before they severally branched oS', a specific
form; the "genus Turdus" in the abstract is simply that form; and that form is prototypic of
its derivatives. In the concrete, as represented by its teleotypes, the genus Turdus sums the
modifications which these have collectively undergone, without specifying the particular modi-
ficatious of any of them ; it expresses the way in which they are all like one another, and in
which they are all unlilce the representatives of any other genus. Thus what is above advanced
is seen to hold, though genera and all other groups are actual descendants of individuals
specifically identical.

Generalized and Specialized Forms. — Taking any one group of animals — say the

genus Turdus, of numerous species — and considering it apart from any other group, we per-
ceive that it represents a certain assemblage of characters peculiar to itself, aside from those
more fundamental ones it includes of its family, order, etc. Its particular characters we call
"generic." Among the numerous teleotypic forms it includes, there is a wide range of specific
variation, within the limits of generic relationship. Some of its species are modified further
away than some others are from the generic standard or type to which all conform more or less
perfectly. The former, having more peculiarities of their own, are said to be the most special-
ized ; the latter, having fewer peculiarities, are the least specialized. Those that are the least
specialized are obviously the most generalized ; and this means, that we believe them to be
nearest to the stock whence all have together descended with modification. The application of
this illustration to great groups shows us the principle upon which any form is said to be gene-
ralized or specialized. lehthyornis, with its fish -like vertebrse, reptile-like teeth, bird-like
sternum and shoulder-girdle, is a very generalized form. A Thrush is the opposite extreme of
a highly speciaUzed form. The two are also separated by an enormous interval of time : one
being very old, the other quite new ; a chronological sequence is here perceived. Since the
evolutionary processes concerned in the modification on the whole represent progress from sim-
plicity to complexity of organization, and therefore ascent in the scale of organization, a gen-
eralized type, an ancient type, and a simple type are on the whole synonymous, and to be
contrasted with specialized, recent, and complex types. They therefore respectively corre-
spond to

« Low " and " High " in the Scale of Organization. — All existing birds are very
closely related, notwithstanding the great numerical preponderance of the class in the present
geological epoch. This outbreak, as it were, of birds upon the modern scene, is like the
nearly simultaneous bursting into bloom of a mass of flowers at the end of one branch of the
Sauropsidan stem. All modern birds, in fact, are strongly specialized forms, so much so that
it is difficult to predicate " high " or " low " within such a narrow scale. The great group
Passeres, for example, comprehending a majority of all known birds, is scarcely more different
from other birds than are the families of reptiles from each other, and among Passeres we have
little to go upon in deciding " high " or " low " beyond the musical ability of Oscines. It is
hard to see much diff"erence in actual complexity of organization between birds regarded as
lowest, as an Ostrich or a Penguin, and those conceded to be highest, as a Swallow or Spar-
row. Nevertheless, in a larger perspective, as between a fish, a reptile, and a bird, the stu-
dent will readily perceive the bearing of the ideas attached to the terms " low " and '' high "
in the scale of organization. Creatures rise in the scale by a number of correlated modifica-
tions and in the course of time (for it takes tim^ to evolve a class of birds from sauropsidan

PRINCIPLES AND PRACTICE OF CLASSIFICATION. 77

stock as really as it does to develop the germ of an egg into the body of a chick). Progressive
differentiation and specialization of structure and function in due course elaborates diversity
from sameness, complexity from simplicity, the " high " special from the " low " general plan
of organization ; the culmination in man of the vertebrate type, first faintly foreshadowed in
the embryonic Ascidian. No one should venture to foretell the result of infinitesimal incre-
ments in elevation of structure and function, nor presume to limit the infinite possibilities of
evolutionary processes, either in this actual world or in the foretold next one.

As to " evidences of design " in the plan of organized beings, it may be said simply that
every creature is perfectly " designed " or fitted for its appropriate activities, and perfectly
adapted to its conditions of environment. In fact, it must be so fitted and adapted, or it would
perish. Whether it so determines itself, or is so determined, is a teleological question. The
truth remains that every creature is perfect in its own way. A worm is as perfectly fitted to be
a worm, as is a bird to be a bird ; in fact, were it not, it would either turn into something else,
or cease to be. A spade is as perfect an organization of the spade kind, as is a steam-engine of
that kind of an organization ; though the di2"erence in complexity of structure and functional
capacity, like that between the lowly organized ascidian generality and the highly organized
avian speciality, is enormous.

One word more : The class of mauimals is highest in the scale of organization. The
class of birds is next highest. But it does not follow, from this relation sustained by Mam-
malia and Aves collectively, that every mammal must be more highly organized than every
bird. It is difficult to say how a mole or a mouse is a more elaborate or more capable creature
than a canary-bird, physically or mentally. The relative rank of two groups is determined by
balan(;ing the aggregate of their structural characters. In large series, the average of devel-
opment, not the extremes either way, is taken into account ; so that the lowest members of a
higher group may be below the highest members of the next lower group. The common phrase,
" below par," or '' above par," is most applicable to such cases.

Machinery of Classification, — The inexperienced student may be glad to be given some
explanation of the way in which the taxonomic principles we have discussed are applied, and
carried into practical effect in classifying birds. Our machinery for that purpose is our inherit-
ance from those naturalists who held very different views from those which touch the evolu-
tionary key-note of modern classification. It is clumsy, and does not work well as a means of
expressing the relations we now believe to be sustained by all organisms toward one another ;
but it is the best we have. Systematic zoology, or the practice of classification, has failed to
keep pace with the principles of the science ; we are greatly in need of some new and sliarper
" tools of thought," which shall do for zoology what the system of symbols and formulae has
done for chemistry. We ivant some symbolic formidation of our knowledge. The invention of
a practicable scheme of classification and nomenclature, which should enable us to formulate
wliat we mean by Merula migratoria, as a chemist symbolizes by SO4H2 what he understands
liydrated sulphuric acid to be, would be an inestimable boon to working naturalists. The
mapping out of groups with connecting lines to indicate their genetic relations, in the form of a
" phylum," is a common practice ; but that, like any other pictorial representation of a " family
tree," is not the graphic symbolization required. We already have a mother of the required
invention in the necessity of the case, and may ho])e that the father will not be long in
coming.

Under the present system, Birds are called a " Class " of Vertebrates, and are subdivided
into " orders," " families," "genera," "species" and " varieties," as already sufficiently indi-
cated. Groups intermediate to any of these may be recognized ; and if so, are usually distin-
guished by the prefix sub-. Many other terms are in occasional use, as " tribe," " race,"
"series," "cohort," "super-family;" but those first mentioned are the best established ones

78 GENERAL ORNITHOLOGY.

among English -speakiug naturalists. Their sequence is fixed, as above, from higher to lower,
in relative rank.^ With the exceptions to be presently noted, the names of any groups are
arbitrary, at the will of the person who founds and designates them. The framer of a genus,
or the describer of a species, calls it what he pleases, and the name he gives holds, subject to
certain statutory regulations which naturalists generally agree to abide by. The exceptions
are the names of families and subfamilies, the former commonly being made to end in -idcB, the
latter in -incB : family Turdidce ; subfamily Turdince. This is a great convenience, since we
always know the rank intended to be noted by these forms. The names of groups higher than
species are almost invariably single words ; as, order Passeres ; but sometimes, especially in
cases of interinediate groups, two words are used, one qualifying the other ; as, suborder
Passeres Acromyodi, or Oscine Passeres. A generic or subgeneric name is always a single
word; these, and the names of all higher groups, invariably begin with a capital letter.

Until quite recently, the scientific name of any individual bird almost invariably consisted
of two terms, generic and specific — the name of the genus, followed by the name of the
species; as, Merula migratoria, for the Robin. This is the "binomial nomenclature"' (badly
so called, for "binominal'' would be better), introduced by Linnseus in the middle of the last
century. It was a great improvement upon the former method of giving either single arbitrary
names to birds, often a mere Latin translation of their vernacular nickname, or long descriptive
names of several words; probably no other single improvement in a method of nt)menclature
ever did so much to make the technique of nomenclature systematic. To couple the two terms
at all was a great thing, the convenience of which we who never felt its want can hardly appre-
ciate. To follow the generic by the specific term was itself of the same advantage that it is to
have the Smiths and Browns of a directory entered under S and B, instead of by Johns and
Jameses; besides according with the genius of the Romance languages, which commonly put
the adjective after the noun. A Frenchman, for example, would say, Bec-croise aux ailes
blanches de VAmerique septentrionale, or " Bill-crossed to the wings white of the America
north," where we should say, "North American White-winged Cross-bill," and Linnaeus
would have written Loxia leucoptera. The binomial scheme worked so well that it came to
have the authority and force of a statute, which few subsequent naturalists have been inclined,
and fewer have ventured, to violate ; while it became an ex post facto law to prior naturalists,
ruling them out of court altogether, as far as the legitimacy of any of the names they had be-
stowed was concerned. It necessarily rested, however, or at any rate proceeded upon, the false
idea of a species as a fixity. Linnseus himself experienced the inadequacy of his system to
deal binomially with those lesser groups than species, commonly called " varieties," now better
designated as "conspecies" or "subspecies"; and he often used a third word, separated how-
ever from the binomial name by intervention of the sign " var." or some other symbol. Thus,
if he had supposed an American Crossbill to be a variety of a European Loxia leucoptera, he
might have called it Loxia leucoptera, a, americana. Many years ago I urged the necessity of
recognizing by name a great number of forms of our birds intermediate between nominal species,
and connected by links so perfect, that our handling of " species" required thorough reconsid-
eration. The dilemma arose, through our very intimate knowledge of the climatic and geo-
graphical variation of " species," either to discard a great number that had been described, and
so ignore all the ultimate modifications of our bird-forms; or else to recognize as good species
the same large number of forms that we knew shaded into each so completely that no specific
character could be assigned. In the original edition of the present work (1872), I compromised
the matter by reducing to the rank of varieties the nominal species that were known or believed

1 The expression " higher group," in the sense of relative rank in the taxonomic scale, will of course be dis-
tinguished from the same expression when applied to the relative rank in the scale of organization of the objects
classified. Au order of birds is a " higher group " than a family of birds, in the former sense, but no higher than
an order of worms, in the latter sense

PRINCIPLES AND PRACTICE OF CLASSIFICATION. 79

to intergrade ; aud the original edition of my Check List (1873) distinguished such by the sign
" var." intervening between the specific and the subspecific name. I subsequently determined
to do away with the superfluous term " var.," and in the next edition of the Check List (1882)
and Key (1884) adopted a purely trinomial system of naming the equivocal forms as subspecies;
as, Loxia curvirostra americana. This method was found to work so well, that it was immedi-
ately adopted and officially formulated in the Code of Nomenclature (188fi) of the American
Ornithologists' Union, and thus came into universal use in this country. Trinomialism is con-
fidently commended as a boon to our brethren over the sea, who perceive its usefulness, yet
continue to handle it gingerly, Linnaaus being still something of a fetich on the more conserva-
tive side of the water. It is the most distinctive feature of what English ornithologists call
"the American school."

The Student cannot be too well assured, that no such things as species, in the old
sense of the word, exist in nature, any more than have genera or families an actual existence-
Indeed they cannot be, if there is any truth in the principles discussed in our earlier paragraphs.
Species are simply ulterior modifications, which once were, if they be not still, inseparably
linked together; and their nominal recognition is a pure convention, like that of a genus.
More practically hinges upon the way we regard them than turns upon our establishment of
higher grtmps, simply because upon the way we decide in this case depends the scientific labeling
of specimens. If we are speaking of a Robin, we do not ordinarily concern ourselves with the
fiiuiily or order it belongs to, but we do require a technical name for constant use. That name
is compounded of its genus, species, and variety. No infallible rule can be laid down for deter-
mining what shall be held to be a species, what a conspecies, subspecies, or variety. It is a
matter of tact and experience, like appreciation of the value of any other group in zoology.
There is, however, a convention upon the subject, which the present workers in ornithology in
this country find available; at any rate, we have no better rule to go by. We treat as
" specific" any form, however little difi'erent from the next, that we do not know or believe to
intergrade with that next one — between which and the next one no intermediate equivocal
specimens are forthcoming, and none, consequently, are supposed to exist. This is to imply
that the difierentiation is accomplished, the links are lost, and the characters actually become
"specific." We treat as "subspecific" of each other any forms, however different in their ex-
treme manifestation, which we know to intergrade, having the intermediate specimens before
us, or which we believe with any good reason do intergrade. If the links still exist, the differ-
entiation is still incomplete, and the characters are not specific, but only subspecific, in the
literal sense of these terms. In the latter case, the oldest approved name is retained as the
specific one, and to it is appended the subspecific designation : as Merula migratoria propinqua.
The specific and subspecific names are preferably written with a small initial letter, even when
derived from the name of a person or place.

One other term than those just considered sometimes forms part of a bird's scientific name:
this is the subgenus. When introduced, it always follows the generic term, in parentheses;
thus, Turdus (Hglocichla) mustelinus. This is cumbrous, especially when there are already
three terms, and is Httle used in this country. I discarded it altogether in 1884. and so did the
American Ornithologists' Union in 1886. There is no real difiierence between a subgenus and
a genus, and modern genera have so multiplied that one can easily find a single name for any
generic refinement he may wish to indulge.

It has always been customary to write after a bird's name the name of the original describer
of the species, as the authority or voucher for the validity of the species named. But as genera
nmltiplied, it was often found necessary to change the generic name, the species being placed
in another genus than that to which its original namer had referred it. Then the name of the
person who originated the new combination was commonly suffixed, presumably as authority

80 GENERAL ORNITHOLOGY.

for the validity of the classification implied. As this was to ignore the proprietorship of the
original describer, it became customary to retain such describer's name in parentheses and add
that of the classiiier ; thus, Tardus migratorius Linnaeus ; Planestieus migratorius (Linn.)
Bonaparte. The practice still prevails ; it is no more objectionable than any other harmless
exhibition of human vanity. The student will find it carefully carried out in my Check List
■of 1873 and 1882, and entirely discarded in the Second and subsequent editions of the present
work.

It would take me too far to go fully into the rules of nomenclature : some few points may
be noted. A proper sense of justice to the describers of new genera, species, and subspecies,
prompts us to preserve inviolate the names they see fit to bestow, with certain salutary pro-
visions. Hence arises the " law of priority." The first name given during or since 1758 is to
be retained and used, if it can be identified with reasonable certitude, — that is, if we think we
know what the giver meant by it. But it is to be discarded, and the next name in priority of
time substituted, if it is "glaringly false or of express absurdity," — as calling an American
bird "cafer," or a black one ^^albus." No generic name can be duplicated in zoology, and one
once void for any reason cannot be revived and used in any connection. The same specific
name cannot be used twice in the same genus.

In my judgment, the best set of rules for naming objects of natural history ever devised is
the Code of Nomenclature promulgated by the American Ornithologists' Union in 1886. Its
canons are applicable not only to ornithology, but also to all other branches of zoology. They
have acquired the force of statutory regulations in this country, and the student who would be
more than an amateur must learn them. He will also do well to obey them until he becomes
a professional ornithologist and can afibrd to express opinions of his own. For myself I sub-
scribe to the Code iu its entirety, with two exceptions. I will never obey a canon which would
oblige me to use a " glaringly false " name, for falsity is foreign to science. Nor shall I ever
have anything but contempt for Canon XL. , which would make me misspell a name for no other
reason than that it was misspelled in the beginning ; for that would be a matter " of express
absurdity, and therefore contemptible." The committee who devised this Code were : EUiott
Cones, Chairman ; J. A. Allen, Robert Ridgway, William Brewster, and H. W. Henshaw.

The Actual Classification of Birds has undergone radical modification of late years,
though the same machinery is employed for its expression. This is as would be expected,
seeing how profoundly the theory of Evolution has affected our principles of classification, how
completely the morphological has replaced other systems, and how steadily our knowledge of
the structure of birds, and their chronological relations, has progressed. Nevertheless, the
ornithological system is still iu a transition state, and the classification implied by my arrange-
ment of North American birds in the present work must be regarded as tentative and provis-
ional. In the original edition of the Key the classification was vitiated at the outset by physi-
ological considerations, 1 and in scmie other respects was open to decided improvement, as I
trust the present edition shows. The table given on a succeeding page will afi"ord the student
a C0U2) d'oeil of the groups, from subclass to subfamily, which I have been led to adopt ; it
represents, as far as it goes, a classification of birds at large. The principal groups, higher
than families, which are absent from the North American Fauna, are : the whole of the
RatitcE, or Struthious birds ; the Bromceognathce, embracing the South American Tinamous ;
the Sphenisci, Penguins of the Southern Hemisphere, and several small superfamily groups be-
longing in the vicinity of the Columbine, Gallinaceous, Lemicoline, and Anserine birds.

As to the primary divisions of Aves, it seems certain that these must be made with special

> In primarily dividing birds into Anes aereir, Avfs terrestres, and Aves aqtiaticcr, after Lilljeborg, I should do myself
the justice to say, however, that the fact that these divisions did not rest upon morphological characters of any conse-
quence was expressly stated (pp. 8 and 276 of the orig. ed.).

EXTERNAL PARTS OF BIRDS.— FEATHERS. 81

reference to the extraordinary form from the Jurassic and to the radical difference between
Ratite and Carinate Birds. The subclass Carinatce, which includes all other existing birds, seems
not to be primarily divisible into a few orders, such as were in vogue not many years ago; but to
be split directly into a large number — perhaps about twenty — groups of approximately
equivalent value, to be conventionally designated as orders, if we take CarinatcB as a subclass
of the class Aves. Passeres seems to be one of tiie most firmly established of these " ordinal "
groups ; but neither Passeres nor any other leading group of birds has any such taxonomic
grade as the groups of the same name have in other branches of zoology. ^^Picarice^^ is one
of the most unsatisfactory, and I have no doubt it will be abolished. The arrangement offered
on a subsequent page has perhaps some claims to consideration.

With this glance at some taxonomic principles and practices, I pass to an outline of the
structure of birds, some knowledge of which is indispensable to any appreciation of orni-
thological definitions and descriptions. It is necessary to be brief, and I shall confine myself
mainly to consideration of those points, and explanation of those technical terms, which the
student needs to understand in order to use the present volume easily and successfully. Here
I will insert a tabular illustration of a sequence of zoological groups, from highest to lowest,
under which a bird may fall : —

Kingdom, Animalia : Animals.

Branch, Vertebrata: Back-boned Animals.

Province, Sauropsida : Lizard-like Vertebrates.
Class, Aves: Birds.

Subclass, Carinatce: Birds with keeled breast-bone.
Order, Passeres : Perching Birds.

Suborder, Oscines : Singing Birds.

Family, Turdidce: Thrush-like Birds.

Subfamily, Turdince : True Thrushes.
Genus, Turdus : Typical Thrushes.

Subgenus, Hylocichla : Wood Thrushes.

Species, ustulatus : Olive-backed Thrush.
Subspecies, alicice : Alice's Thrush.

§3. — DEFINITIONS AND DESCRIPTIONS OF THE EXTERIOR PARTS OF BIRDS.

a. Of the Feathers, or Plumage. i

Feathers are possessed only by birds, and all birds possess them. Feathers are therefore
diagnostic of the class Aves. Feathers are modified scales ; like scales, hair, horns, claws, etc.,
tiiey are outgrowths of the integument, or skin covering the body, and therefore belong to tiie
class oi epidermic (Gr. eVi, epi, upon ; bipfia, derma, skin), or exoskeletal (Gr. e|, ex, out ; aKe'Kerov,
skeleton, dried; in the sense of " outer skeleton") structures. The horny coverings of beak
and feet are of the same class, but very difterently developed. The development of feathers is
a complicated process, and the result is correspondingly complex. Besides being the most
highly developed or specialized, wonderfully beautiful and perfect kind of tegumentary out-
growth — besides fulfilling in a singular manner the function of covering and protecting the
body — feathers have their particular locomotory office : that of accomplishing the act of flying
in a manner peculiar to birds. For all vertebrates, excepting birds, that progress through the
air — the flying ^»\\ {Exoccetus) with, its enlarged pectoral fins; the flying reptile (Draco or
Pterodacti/lus) with its skinny parachute ; the flying mammal (bat) witli its great webbed
fingers — accomplish aerial locomotion by means of tegumentary exjmnsions. Birds alone fly

6

82 GENERAL ORNITHOLOGY.

with tegumentary outgroivths, or appendages. These peculiar structures are very light, weigh-
ing little in proportion to their bulk ; and some kinds of feathers are very strong and elastic^
easier to bend than to break — in fact, the horny part of a feather is a very tough substance.
Feathers make extremely poor conductors of heat, and consequently a warm covering of the
body.

All a bird's feathers, of whatever kind, collectively constitute its ptilosis (Gr. nriKov, jJtilon,
a feather) or plumage (Lat. pluma, a plume or feather). In many cases tlie first plumage of
the nestling or uewly-hatched bird is a short-lived set of feathers so difi'erent from the crop
next grown and longer worn as to give rise to the technical distinction between

Neossoptiles and Teleoptiles (Gr. veossos, neossos, a young bird, chick, or fledgling ;
TeXeos, teleos, finished, final, or mature ; and tttiKov, ptilon, a feather). A neossoptile is an un-
finished feather which precedes a final feather, is borne upon the latter for a while, and then
drops ofi". All birds do not have neossoptiles, and these temporary feathers form but a sparse
and scanty covering of some birds which possess them. Such is the case with those birds
which are commonly said to hatch naked, and which stay in the nest until they are fully
fledged; though even in these instances the few straggling hair-like feathers which may be
first observed are neossoptiles. In the highly exceptional case of the Mound-birds (MegajiO-
didce) neossoptiles are shed before the chick is hatched, so that the apparently first but actually
second set of feathers are teleoptiles. Neossoptiles are copious enough to form the complete
downy covering of those young birds which hatch clothed and are able to run about or swim
almost immediately, as in the cases of the chicks, ducklings, or goslings of the poultry-yard,
the unfledged young of plovers, snipes, and many others: such a covering is also speedily
acquired by various birds which hatch naked or nearly so, yet remain long in the nest, as the
squabs of pigeons, and the nestlings of herons, gulls, and most other water-birds. The gen-
eralization may be made, that neossoptiles are most copious and conspicuous in the lower
orders of birds, as the walkers, waders and swimmers, least so in the higher Passerine and Pi-
carian orders. This distinction agrees very well with what are explained beyond as altricial
or psilopeedic birds on the one hand, and prcecocial or ptilopcBdic birds on the other hand ; less
exactly, with birds called nidicolous and nidifugous, or those which remain some time in the
nest and those which can leave it at once. Neossoptiles are always weak, fiufl"y, hairy or
downy feathers — in fact, they form the first "downy plumage" of any bird which possesses
such a covering. Their character will be better understood by the student after he has read
what is said beyond of the structure of feathers. The distinction between neossoptiles and
teleoptiles is not that the former are downy, for many of the latter are equally downy ; but that
neossoptiles are shed or moulted, from the ends of the teleoptiles upon which they are borne,
not from the skin itself. In fine, a neossoptile is simply the temporary, deciduous, terminal
portion of an ungrown teleoptile, though it may be the only kind of a feather the young bird
possesses. The whole plumage of every adult bird consists of teleoptiles, whose several kinds
are described beyond.

Development of Feathers. In a manner analogous to that of hair, a feather grows in
a little pit or pouch formed by an inversion of the dermal or true-skin layer of the integument
as well as of the epidermal or scarf-skin layer. This pit is the feather-follicle ; it supports tlie
base of a little conical pimple, the feather -papilla, upon which the future feather is to be
moulded. The outermost layer of epidermal cells is called the epUrichium ; the subjacent
layers form the Malpighian stratum, which enters into the structure both of the follicle and of
the feather itself. The cells of this stratum, rapidly multiplying and growing downward into
the pit, separate into two sets, one of which lines the whole wall of the follicle, while the other
covers a mass of cells which have meanwhile shot up in the centre of the follicle from the

EXTERNAL PARTS OF BIRDS. — FEATHERS.

83

uiulerlying dermal layer of iuteguinent. This central mass is the pulp which is to nourish the
rapidly growing feather ; it becomes a soft spongy network and furnishes the blood supply, but
is not otherwise transformed into the substance of the feather. For the latter is entirely epi-
dermal, being built up from the cells of that portion of the Malpighian stratum which covers
the central pulp. This portion subdivides into three layers. The outermost layer sprouts out
of the skin in the form of a horny cylindric sheath, and is the well-known object we call a
" pin-feather." The thick intermediate layer m,akes most of the feather itself, set free when

Fio. 18. —Symmetrical Figfures from Forming Feathers; a, dove; 6, turkey. — "In the summer of
18G9, wliilst examining the feather capsule of a nestling dove, the microscopic slide was suddenly covered witli a multi-
tude of exquisite forms. . . . The next day my German farmer cUmbed to the dove's nest ainl procured a few more pin-
feathers. Some of these were cut into fine shred-s, rubbed in a drop of water, and placed under the microscope. In a
short period the figures of yesterday were again before me. From tlie cut surfaces of the portions of tlie pin-feathers I
had placed under tlie lens, granules appeared to stream forth like blood, covering the microscopic slide in countless num-
bers. Mingled with these were numerous larger cells of a globular or oval form, having a transparent centre. These and
the granules gave to the water a slightly glutinous consistency. As the fluids on the glass dried, lines at ditferent angles
shot across tlie slide, lookmg much as though an unseen camel's hair pencil had been swiftly drawn in opposite directions,
sometimes at riglit angles, but frequently at angles more acute. Probably at the moment of transition from a fluid to a
solid condition, the transparent nucleated cells assumed the form of a square, a lozenge, a starry hexagon, a cross, or any
other beautiful figure which could be formed of the parts wliich suddenly appeared in the spherical cells, these parts seem-
ing at flrst, in some instances at least, to consist of minute triangles. At tlie same moment the little granules moved to
order, and tliere before the astonished gaze were diamonds such as Aladdin might have envied, in form as varied, but far
more symmetrical, than the frost-work on a window pane of a winter's morning." (Grace Anna Lewis, Am. Nat., v, 1871,
p. 675.)

84 GENERAL ORNITHOLOGY.

the sheath that contains it peels off. The innermost layer simply sheathes the pulp, and is
finally transformed into the pith which may be observed inside the hollow quill as a set of little
caps or thimbles. Such development of feathers as is here briefly sketched holds good both for
neossoptiles and for teleoptiles, the formation of the latter simply completing the process begun
with the former. When the final feather has completed its growth the activity of the follicle
ceases as long as the feather stays in place ; but when the feather drops, as it always does when
it is worn out, the follicle renews its function and grows another feather in the same manner as
before, except that this teleoptile is never preceded by a neossoptile. The steps of the process
by which a feather expands into its complex figure from such a simple matrix or mould of form
is thus graphically illustrated by Huxley :

" The integument of birds is always provided with horny appendages, which result from the conversion into horn of
the cells of the outer layer of the epidermis. But the majority of these appendages, which are termed ' feathers,' do not
take the form of mere plates developed upou the surface of the skin, but are evolved within sacs from the surfaces of con-
ical papillfe of the dermis. The external surface of the dermal papiUa, whence a feather is to be developed, is provided
upon its dorsal [upper] surface with a median groove, which becomes shallower towards the apex of the papilla. From
this median groove lateral furrows proceed at an open angle, and passing round upon the under surface of the papilla, be-
come shallower, until, in the middle line, opposite the dorsal median groove, they become obsolete. Minor grooves run
at right angles to the lateral furrows. Hence the surface of tlie papilla has the character of a kind of mould, and if it
were repeatedly dipped in such a substance as a solution of gelatine, and withdrawn to cool until its whole surface was
covered with an even coat of that substance, it is clear that the gelatinous coat would be thickest at the basal or anterior
end of the median groove, at the median ends of the lateral furrows, and at those ends of the minor grooves which open
into them ; while it would be very thin at the apices of the median and lateral grooves, and between the ends of the minor
grooves. If, therefore, the hollow cone of gelatine, removed from its mould, were stretched from within ; or if its tliin-
nest parts became weak by drying ; it would tend to give way, along the inferior median line, opposite the rod-like cast of
the dorsal median groove and between the ends of the casts of the lateral furrows, as well as between each of the minor
grooves, and the hollow cone would expand into a flat feather-like structure with a median shaft, as a ' vane ' formed of
'barbs' and 'barbules.' In point of fact, in the development of a feather such a cast of the dermal papilla is formed,
though not in gelatine, but in the homy epidermic layer developed upon the mould, and, as this is thrust outward, it opens
out in the manner just described. After a certain period of growth the papilla of the feather ceases to be grooved, and a
continuous horny cylinder is formed, which constitutes the 'quiU.' " (Introd. Classif. Auim., p. 71.)

Structure of Feathers. — A perfect feather, possessing all the structures a teleoptile can
have developed, consists of the following named parts : (1) a main stem, shaft, or scape in
two portions, calamus and rliachis / (2) a supplementary stem, aftershaft, or hyporliachis ;
(3) each stem bearing on each side a web, vane, or vexillum ; (4) each web composed of a
series of bai-bs or rami ; (5) each barb bearing on each side a series of barbules or radii ;
(6) most barbules bearing a set of barbicels or cilia ; (7) some barbicels forming booklets or
hamuli. Exactly how these several parts or structures combine to compose the feather is next
to be shown.

(1) The main stem, shaft, or sca2)e (Lat. scapus, a stalk) is usually divided into two well
distinguished parts, calamus and rhachis. (a) The calamus (Lat. a reed) is the part next the
body of the bird inserted by one end into the skin, and at the other end supporting the rest
of the feather. This is the tube, barrel, or ''quill" proper; a hard, horny, hollow, semitrans-
parent cyHuder, bearing no webs, and containing on the interior a little loose dry pith in the
form of a series of caps or thimbles, sometimes called the " soul." These are the remains
of the innermost layer of the inner division of the Malpighian stratum. One end of this
quill tapers to its insertion, and is matked by the trace of what was an opening when the
featlier was growing; this is the umbilicus inferior. The other end of the calamus passes
dii-ectly into the rhachis, at a point marked by a little pit, the umhilicus superior, on the under
side of the feather (nearest the bird's body). The rhachis (Gr. pdxts, rhachis, a spine or ridge)
is the direct continuation of the calamus to the tip of the feather, but (lifters in cliaracter, being
a four-sided prism, squarish in cross section, tapering gradually to a fine point : it is less horny
than the barrel, very elastic, opaque, and solidly pithy; it alone bears the vexilla, serving as
a midrib between the two vanes for their whole extent. Tlie rhachis is usually grooved length-

EXTERNAL PARTS OF BIRDS. — FEATHERS.

85

wise on its under side, this groove being best marked on the large feathers of the wings and
tail ; and it is commonly much longer than the calamus.

(2) The aftershaft or hyporhachis (Gr. vno, hupo, and pdxis), when well developed is like
a duplicate of the main feather, from the under side of the stem of which it springs, at junction
of calamus with rhachis, close by the umbilicus superior. It is generally very small in com-
parison with the main part of the feather, though quite as large in a few birds, as Cassowaries,
Emeus, and Moas. This counterpart or " counterfeit " is n(jt developed in all groups of
birds, nor on all feathers of any bird ; its presence or absence, whether by non-acquisition or
subsequent reduction, thus becomes a classificatory character of some importance. It is never
well developed, but generally minute or wanting on the large strong wing- and tail-feathers ;

is best marked as an ap-
pendage of small contour
feathers, and especially
down feathers. The after-
shaft may bear vanes, and
generally does ; but the
♦-^S^ //y/^ ' barbs and barbules are

"^^ -v> ( ''V^v- /^>.. never connected by barbicels

or booklets (as presently to
be described for ordinary
feathers), and therefore this
supplementary feather is of
a fluffy or downy texture,
not close-webbed. The ap-
pearance of double feathers
in the Emeu and some other
ratite birds results from the
equal size of the aftershaft
and main shaft; the former

is well developed though inconspicuous in Parrots,
Gulls, Herons, and most raptorial birds ; it is small
and very weak in the great Passine series, in most
waders, and many Galliue birds ; still smaller in or
absent from the Duck tribe, in Totipalmate birds,
in some Picarians, in Owls, Pigeons, and the Os-
triches and Kiwis. More detailed notice of presence
or absence of aftershafts will be found under heads
of the groups of birds treated in this work.

(3) Each web, vaue, or vexillum (Lat. vexillum, a standard: \)\. vexilla) consists of a
series of parallel, mutually appressed, flat, narrowly linear or lance-liuear laminae or plates,
eacli one of which is set by its end obliquely on the rhachis (or on the hyporhachis, as the case
may be), diverging at a varying open angle, and ending in a free point. Every such narrow
flat plate constitutes a

(4) Barb or ramus of the vane (Lat. barba, a beard; ramus, a branch; pi. rami).
The barbs may be likened to the blades of a pocket knife, with the sharp edge turned toward
the under side of the feather, the blunt back of the blade turned to the other side. Barbs of
the outer webs of many feathers are deeper, stronger, and shorter than those of inner webs,
and commonly set on the rhachis at a more acute angle ; this difference is best marked on large
feathers of the wings and tail. The number of barbs to a vane is very variable ; there may be
several hundred. Now, if these barbs simply lay alongside one another, like leaves of a book,

Fig. 20. — Two barbs,
a, a, of a vane, bearing an-
terior, b, b, and posterior,
c, barbules ; enlarged ; after
Nitzsch.

Fig. 19. — A partly pennaceous, partly plum-
ulaceous feather, from Argus i)bea8ant; after
Nitzsch. ad, main stem ; (I, calamus ; a, rliachis ;
c, c, c, vanes, cut away on left side in order not
to interfere with b, the after-shaft, the whole of
the right vane of which is likewise cut away.

86 GENERAL ORNITHOLOGY.

without any ineans of holding together, the feather would have uo texture or consistency —
there would be no true web; therefore they are connected by means of

(5) Barbules or radii (Lat. radius, a ray ; pi. radii). Just as the rhachis bears its two
series of barbs, so does each barb bear two series of processes or plates of the second order.
These barbules, as they are called (Lat., diinin. of barba), or radii, are to the barbs exactly
what the barbs are to the main shaft, and are similarly given off from both sides of the thick
upper border of a barb ; they make the vane truly a web — that is, they so connect the barbs
together that some slight force is required to pull them apart. Barbules are variously shaped,
but generally flat sidewise, to pack together closely, with an upper and under edge at base,
rapidly tapering to a slender thready end; and are long enough for each one to reach obliquely
over several barbules of the next barb. Their number on most feathers is very great ; a feather
with a few hundred barbs to each web may have several hundred thousand barbules. All the
structures thus far described may be seen by the naked eye or with a simple pocket lens ; but
a microscope is required to make out the minute structures by means of which the barbules
confer consistency on the bai'bs. These are the

(6), (7) Barbicels or cilia (barbicel, another dimin. of Lat. barba ; and cilium, an eye-
lash; pi. cilia), and booklets or hamuli (Lat. hamulus, a little hook, dimin. of hamus,
a hook; pi. hamuli). Both of these minute structures are simply a sort of fringe to a
barbule, as if the end and part of the lower edge of the barbule were frayed out, and only
differ from each other in that barbicels are plain hair-like processes, while hamuli are hooked
at the end ; they are not found on all feathers, nor on all parts of any feathers. There are
countless millions of barbicels and hamuli on the main feathers of every bird which has smooth
webby surface plumage and well-formed wings and tail ; but their absence characterizes all
neossoptiles, all supplementary feathers, and all the downy or hairy under plumages to be
presently noticed. Barbicels occur on both anterior and posterior rows of barbules, though
rarely on the latter; booklets are confined to anterior series of barbules, which, as we have
seen, overlie the posterior rows, forming a diagonal mesh-work. The purpose of this beauti-
ful structure is evident ; barbules are interlocked, and the whole made a web ; for each booklet
of one barbule catches hold of a barbule from the next barb in front, any barbule thus holding
on to as many barbules of the next barb as it has booklets ; while, to facilitate this interlock-
ing, barbules have a thickened or folded-over upper edge of the right size for booklets to grasp.
The aiTaugement is shown in fig. 22, where a, a, a, a, are four barbs in transverse section,
viewed from the cut surfaces, with their anterior, b, b, b, b, and posterior, c, c, c, c, barbules,
the former bearing the booklets which catch over the edge of the latter.

Types of Feathery Structure. — But all feathers do not answer the above complete
description. The aftershaft may be wanting, as we have seen. Booklets may not be devel-
oped, as frequently happens. Barbicels may be few or entirely lacking. Barbules may be
similarly deficient, or so defective as to be only recognized by their position and relations.
Even barbs may be few or lacking on one side of the shaft, or on both sides, as in certain bristly
or hair-like styles of feathers. Finally the main stem may be a mere filament, without obvious
distinction of calamus and rhachis. Consideration of these and other modifications of feather-
structure has led to recognition of three types or plans : 1. The perfectly feathery, plumoiis, or
pennaceous (Lat. pluma, a plume, or penna, a feather fit for writing with ; fig. 23), as above
described. 2. The downy or plumulaceous (Lat. plumula, a little plume, a down-feather),
when the stem is short and weak, with soft rhachis and barbs, long slender thready barbules,
little knots in place of barbicels, uo booklets, and consequently no smooth webbing. 3. The
hairy, bristly, or filoplumaceous (Lat. filum, a thread), with a very long, slender stem, rudi-
mentary or very small vanes composed of fine cylindrical barbs and barbules, if any, and no
barbicels, knots, or booklets. There is no abrupt definition between tliese types of structure;

EXTERNAL PARTS OF BIRDS. — FEATHERS.

87

in fact, the same feather may be constructed on more than one of these plans, in different
parts of its length, as in fig. 19, partly pennaceous, partly plumulaceous. All feathers are
built upon one or another, or some combination, or modification, of these types; and, in all
their endless diversity, may be reduced to four or five.

Different Kinds of Feathers. — 1. Contour -feathers, pennts or pl!j««« proper, have a
perfect stem composed of calamus and rhachis, with smooth-webbed vanes of pennaceous
structure, at least in part, usually plumulaceous toward the base.
These form the great bulk of surface-plumage exposed to light ;
their beautiful tints give a bird its colors ; they are the most
modified in detail of all, from the fish-like scales of a penguin's
wings to the glittering jewels of a Humming-bird, and all the
endless array of tufts, crests, ruffs, and other ornaments of
the feathered tribes; even the imperfect bristle-like feathers
above mentioned may belong among them. The most conspic-
uous contour-feathers are the large ones of the wings and tail;
these are also the most perfect feathers, except for lack of an
aftershaft. Some contour-feathers are of fluffy texture, assume
singular shapes, and grow to great lengths ; such are commonly
ornamental, and may be confined to the nuptial plumage, or
characteristic of the male sex, as the aigrettes of many Herons,
and the plumas of Paradise birds. Such feathers may not only
lack all the minute structures above described, but even have the
webs decomposed, owing to fewness of barbules or of barbs them-
selves. It would take me too far afield to go fully into their
numerous variations. Contour-feathers are usually individually
moved by subcutaneous muscles, of which there may be sevei-al
to one feather, passing to be attached to the sheath of the tube,
iuside the skin, in which the stem is inserted. These muscles
may be plainly seen under the skin of a goose, and every one has observed
their operation when a hen shakes herself after a sand-bath, or erects her
top-knot, or any other bird ruffles up its plumage. 2. Down-feathers, plumulce, are charac-
terized by a downy structure throughout. They more or less completely invest the body, but
are almost always hidden beneath contour-feathers, like padding about the bases of the latter ;
occasionally they come ^

in

Fk; 21.—
A single bar-
bule, bearing
barbicels and
booklets ;mag-
nifltil ; after
Nitzscb.

Fig. 22.
Four barbs
cross section, a,

a, a, a, bearing
anterior, b, b, b,

b, and posterior

c, c, c, c, bar-
bules, the form-
er bearing hook-
lets which catch
over the latter;
magnified; after
Nitzsch.

\-

y

iR

Fig.
entirely

I the tail of a Kingbird. Tyrannus tyrnnnus, almost
Tshaft. From nature, by Coues.

to light, as in the fleecy

ruft' about the Condor's

neck, and then usually

replace contour-feathers ;

tliey have an aftershaft,

or none; sometimes no

rhachis at all, the barbs then being sessile in a tuft at the end of the calamus. They often

stand in a regular quincunx (] • ]) between four contour-feathers. All neossoptiles are of

di)wny structure, though they belong to a different category of feathers, as we have seen, and

we are now talking only of teleoptiles. Down-feathers, as a rule, are more copious in water

birds than in land birds; swan's-down and eider-down are fine examples, and may be used by

both birds and people to warm their respective nests. 3. Semiplumes, semiplwnce, may be

said to unite the characters of the last two, possessing the pennaceous stem of the former, and

the plumulaceous vanes of the latter ; they are with or without aftershaft. They stand among

pcnnfe, as plumul* do, about the edges of patches of the former, or in parcels by themselves.

88 GENERAL ORNITHOLOGY.

but are always covered by contour-feathers. As implied in the name, the alleged distinctions
of semipluraes are equivocal, and not easy to verify in all cases. Better marked are — 4. Filo-
plumes, filopliimcB, or thread-feathers, which have au extremely slender, almost invisible stem,
not well distinguished into calamus and rhachis, and usually no vane, unless a terminal tuft
of barbs be held for such. Long as they are, they are usually hiddeu by contour-feathers, close
to which they stand as accessories, one or more seeming to issue out of the very sacs in which
larger feathers are implanted. Sometimes they come to the surface, as the hairs on the neck
of birds of the genus Criniger, so named from this fact ; and some think the thready white
plumes on the neck and flanks of Cormorants in nuptial plumage are filoplumaceous. Typical
filophmies are the nearest approach to hairs that birds have ; they are very well shown on
domestic poultry, being what a good cook finds it necessary to siuge ofi" after plucking a fowl
for the table. 5. Certain down-feathers are remarkable for continuing to grow indefinitely,
and with this unlimited growth is associated a continual breaking down of the ends of the
barbs. Such plumulae, from being always dusted over with dry, scurfy exfoliation, are called
powder-down ; they may be entitled to rank as a fifth kind of teleoptiles, which I have named
pulviplumes. They occur in the Hawk, Parrot, and Gallinaceous tribes ; also in certain Pica-
rian birds (Leptosomus and Podargus) ; and especially in Herons and their allies. They are
always present in the latter, where they may be readily seen as at least two large patches of
greasy or dusty, whitish feathers, matted over the hips and on the breast. Pulviplumes are
said to be luminous at times with a sort of phosphorescence ; but what good it does a bird to
wear such fungus-like puff-balls is unknown.

Colors of Feathers, in almost endless diversity of shade, hue, or tint, are reducible to
three categories (see Newton's Diet., p. 95). 1. Chemical, absorptive, or pigmentarij colors,
due to the deposition in the caratine or substance of the feather of certain pigments, either in
the form of fixed granules, or diffuse solution. Such colors are unvarying in any light in which
they may be viewed. Some kinds of pigment have been distinguished by name as follows :
Zoomelanin, or black ; zoonerythrin, or red ; and sooxanthin, or yellow ; the names being de-
rived from Greek words meaning "animal," and "black," "red," "yellow." To these add
turacin, the particular red pigment of birds of the genus Turacus, family Musophagidce ; and
turacoverdin, the green pigment of the same birds; the red color is due to copper and the green
to iron. Browns are due to varying mixtures of red and black pigments. AVhite is no color, but
results from the molecular structure of the feather, in the absence of pigment. Gloss, of what-
ever color, is due to smooth polish of the surface of a feather. 2. "What have been called
objective structural colors result from surface-conditions of the feather in connection with under-
lying pigments. All blues, most greens, and some yellows belong in this category, as no blue
pigment is known, and under the microscope these colors are always seen to depend upon the
structure that overlies pigment of a different color. For example, the color basis of a blue
feather may be a brownish or blackish pigment, and the blue only show as a condition of the
surface of the barbs and barbules. 3. Subjective structural, prismatic or so called metallic col-
ors constitute iridescence, or the glittering scintillation of those feathers which change rainbow-
like according to the position in which they are viewed by the eye with regard to light, i. e., to
angle of incidence of light-rays. Iridescence is thus wholly due to superficial texture of a
feather, without regard to the subjacent dark or black pigment. Prismatic hues are mostly
confined to exposed surfaces of feathers, and to barbules which lack barbiccls, and also have a
particular disposition. Iridescence is to be distinguished from mere sheen, gloss, or " bloom "
of a feather; it is carried to its pitch of perfection in Humming-birds, though many other
groups of birds also exhibit this optical phenomenon.

Whatever be the coloration normal to any bird, that is its chrosis (Gr. xp^i^fts, chrosis,
coloring). But any bird may exhibit abnormal color or lack of color, either as a pathological

EXTERNAL PARTS OF BIRDS. — FEATHERS. 89

condition, or as due to particular diet, or to direct artificial tincture ; this has been called
heterochrosis (Gr. fTepos, heteros, other, and xP«s«). The principal abnormal conditions are :
1. Albinism, in which the bird is white, wholly or in part; a " white Blackbird " is no mis-
nomer, and white Crows or Ravens are well known. This is the commonest affection of the
kinds now under consideration ; any bird may, and many birds do, become entirely pure white,
from failure of pigment ; such are called albinos. 2. Melanism, or abnormal blackness, from
excess of dark pigment. It is much less common than albinism, but by no means rare.
3. Xanthism (Gr. ^avdos, xatithos, yellow), or yellowness, as when a red, orange, or green
bird turns out more or less yellow. 4. Erytlirism (Gr. epvdpos, eruthros, red), or redness.
Both the last two cases are somewhat special ones, considered as abnormities. Feeding upon
cayenne pepper may produce erythrism ; in Brazil, where counterfeit species of Chrysotis, a
genus of Parrots, are fashionable, they "are produced by the rubbing in of the cutaneous
secretion of a toad, Biifo tructorius, into the budding feathers of the head, which then turn out
yellow instead of green" (Newton, Diet., p. 99). It should be noted that all these hetero-
chroses are abnormal; normal changes of plumage with age or season, and normal differences
of plumage, are treated beyond. Neither dechromatism nor aptosochromatism is here iu
question.

Feather Oil Gland. — Birds do not perspire, and cutaneous glands, corresponding to the
sweat-glands and sebaceous follicles so common in Mammalia, are hardly known among them.
But their " oil-can " is a kind of sebaceous follicle, which may be noticed here in connection
with other teguinentary appendages. This is a two-lobed or rather heart-shaped gland, sad-
dled upon the " pope's nose," at the root of the tail, and hence sometimes called the uropyrjial
(Lat. uropygiiim, rump), or ruinp gland ; is also known as the elceodoclion (Gr. iKaiohoxoi,
elaiodochos, containing oil). It is composed of numerous slender tubes or follicles which se-
crete a greasy tluid, the ducts of which, uniting successively in larger tubes, finally open by
one or more pores, commonly upon a little nipple-like elevation. Birds press out a drop of oil
with the beak and dress the feathers with it, in the well-known operation called "preening."
The gland is present in most birds ; it is large and always present in aquatic birds, which have
need of waterproof plumage ; smaller in land-birds, as a rule, and wanting in some. The
presence or absence of this singular structure, and whether or not it is surmounted by a partic-
ular circlet of feathers, distinguishes certain groups of birds, and has become much used in
classification, as it was supposed to be related in some occult manner to the coeca of the
intestine.

Pterylography. — Feathered Tracts and Unf eathered Spaces. — Excepting certain
birds having obviously naked spaces, as about the head or feet, all would be taken to be
fully feathered. So they are all covered with feathers, but it does not follow that feathers are
everywhere implanted upon the skin. On the contrary, a uniform and continuous pterylosis
is the rarest of all kinds of feathering ; though such occurs, almost or quite perfectly, among
certain birds, as Ostriches and their allies Penguins, and Toucans. If we compare a bird's skin
to a well-kept park, part woodland, part lawn, then where feathers grow is the woodland,
wliere they do not grow is the lawn. The former places are called tracts or pterylce (Gr.
nrepov, pteron, aphune, and v\r], huh, woods; literally, " feather-forests") ; the latter, spaces,
or «/??ena (Gr. a privative, and TrrepoV) ; they reciprocally distinguish certain definite areas.
Not only are pterylee and apteria thus definite, but their size, form, and arrangement mark
whole families and even orders of birds, so that pterylosis becomes available, and is indeed
found to be important, for purposes of classification. Pterylography, or the description of this
matter, was first (1833) made a special study by the celebrated Nitzsch, who laid down the
general plan of pterylosis which obtains in the great majority of birds, as follows : 1. The

90

GENERAL ORNITHOLOGY.

spinal or dorsal tract (pteryla spinalis ; fig. 24, 1), running along the middle of a bird above
from nape of neck to tail ; subject to great variation in width, to dilation and contraction, to
forking, to sending out branches, to interruption, to enclosing an apterium, etc. 2. Humeral
or arm tracts (pt. humerales ; Lat. humerus, shoulder, or upper arm-bone; fig. 24, 2), always
present, one on each wing ; they are narrow bands, running from the shoulder obliquely back-
ward upon the upper arui-bone, parallel with the shoulder-blade. 3. Femoral or thigh tracts
(pt. femorales ; Lat. femur, thigh; fig. 24, 3) ; a similar oblique band upon the outside of each
thigh, subject to great vaiiation. 4. The ventral tract (pt. ventralis ; Lat. venter, belly ;
fig. 24, 8), which forms most of the plumage on the under part of a bird, commencing at or
near the throat, and continuing to the vent ; like the dorsal tract, it is very variable, is broad
or narrow, branched, etc., though always consisting of right and left halves, with a median
apterium ; thus, Nitzsch enumerates seventeen distinct modifications, and there are others. The
foregoing are mostly isolated tracts, that is, bands nearly surrounded by complementary apteria ;
the following are, in general, continuously and uniformly feathered, and thus practically equiva-
lent to the part of the body they represent : Thus, 5, the head tract {pt. capitalis ; Lat. caput.

Fio. 24. — Pterylosis of Micropus apus, drawn by Cones after Nitzsch ; right hand upper, left hand lower, surface.
1. spinal tract; 2. humeral; 3. femoral; 4. capital; 5. alar; G. caudal; 7. crural; 8. veutral.

capiitis, head ; fig. 24, 4) clothes the head, and generally runs into the beginning of both dorsal
and ventral tracts. 6. There may be a recognizable neck tract (pt. colli ; Lat. colliitn, neck),
and in some cases, as Herons, what Nitzsch called pt. colli laterales. 7. The alar or wing tract
(pt. alaris; Lat. ala, wing; fig. 24, 5) represents all feathers that grow upon the wing, ex-
cepting those of the humeral tract. 8. The caudal or tail tract {pt. caudalis; Lat. cauda, tail;
fig. 24, 6) includes the tail-feathers proper and their coverts, and usually receives the termina-
tion of dorsal, ventral, and femoral tracts. 9. The crural or leg tract {pt. cruralis ; Lat. crits,
cruris, leg; figs. 24, 7) clothes the legs as far as these are feathered, which is generally to the
heel, always below the knee, and sometimes to the toes or even the claws. 10. The uropygial
or rump tract (pt. uropygii) is confined to the elaeodochon, which may be uniformly feathered,
or naked except for a peculiar circlet of feathers which surmounts it. I need not enumerate the
apteria, as these are merely the complements of the pterylae. The highly important special
" flight-feathers" of the wings and " rudder-feathers " of the tail are to be examined beyond,
in describing those members for purposes of classification.

Endysis and Ecdysis. — Putting on and off Plumage. — Newly hatched birds, as
already said, are partially or entirely covered for some time with a kind of down neossop-
tiles, entirely difi"erent from such teleoptiles as they ultimately acquire. The relation

EXTERNAL PARTS OF BIRDS. — FEATHERS. 91

between these two sets of feathers has already been fully shown. Down is scanty, leaving
much or all of the body naked, in most altricial birds, or such as are reared by the parents
in the nest (Lat. alirix, female nourisher) ; but thick and puffy in some Altrices, and in all
Prcccoces (Tiat. prcecox, precocious), which run about at birth. Since many birds which re-
quire to be reared in the nest also hatch clothed, or very speedily become downy, a more
exact distinction may be drawn by using the terms ptilopccdic and psUopcedic (Gr. irriXov, ptilon,
a feather; -^CKoi, psilos, bare ; and Trals, pais, a child) respectively for those birds which hatch
feathered or naked; a chicken and a canary-bird are familiar examples. Ptilopaedic birds are
also called dasypasdic (Gr. baavs, dasus, hairy), which means the same thing. It is the rule,
that the higher birds are born helpless and naked or nearly so, requiring to be reared in the
nest till their true feathers grow ; the reverse with lower birds, as the walking, wading, and
swimming tribes; and a primary division of birds has even been proposed upon this physio-
logical distinction. It offers, however, too many exceptions ; thus, no birds are more naked
and helpless at birth than young Cormorants. Probably all prsecocial birds are also ptilopa3dic
and all psilopaedic birds altricial ; but the converse is far from holding good, many Altrices, as
Hawks and Owls, being also ptilopsedic. In other words, psilopsedic birds are always altricial,
but ptilopadic birds may be either altricial or praecocial. In view of this distinction which
does not always distinguish, it has been proposed to drop the terms, and substitute nidicolous
(Lat. nidus, nest, and colere, to inhabit) for those birds which stay some time in the nest, those
which leave it at once being termed nidifugous (Lat. nidus, nest, and fugere, to flee). Thus,
all Altrices are NidicolcB, and all PrcBCOces are Nidifugce ; in either case without prejudice to
the question whether the former are psilopsedic or ptiloptedic.

In any ease, true feathers are soon gained, in some days or weeks, those of wings and tail
being usually the first to sprout. The acquisition of plumage is called endysis (eudva-is, endusis,
putting on). The renewal of plumage is a process familiar to all, in its generalities, under the
term " moult," or ecdgsis (Gr. €k8v(tis, ekdusis, putting off), though the details of the process
have been worked out satisfactorily for comparatively few species of birds, and M'e have to be
cautious in making statements concerning this subject; for unexpected exceptions may be un-
provided for unless our language is guarded. Feathers are of such rapid growth, and make
such a drain upon vital energies, that we easily understand how critical are periods of moult.
The first plumage is usually worn but a short time ; then another more or less complete change
commonly occurs. The moult is annual, as a rule ; and in many cases more than one moult is
required before a mature bird attains the perfection of its feathering. It is well known how dif-
ferent many birds are the first year in their coloration from that afterward acquired; sometimes
changes progress for several years ; and some birds appear to have a period of senile decline.
All such changes are necessarily connected, if not with actual moult, as is the rule, then at any
rate with wear and tear and repair of the plumage. The first plumage having been gained,
under whatever conditions peculiar to the species, it is the general rule, that birds are there-
after subject to single, or annual, moult ; possibly there is no exception to the rule that a
healthy adult bird renews its plumage at least once a year. This change commonly occurs
when the duties of incubation are concluded, and the well-worn plumage most needs renewal,
as happens in late summer and early autumn months in our latitudes ; though some of our
l)irds, as Swallows and Hawks, may put off tlie process till winter. Many birds, however,
moult twice a year, the additional moult usually occurring in spring, when a fresh nuptial suit
is acquired ; in such cases, the moult is said to be dotible, or semi-annual. Such additional
moult is generally incomplete; that is, all the feathers are not shed and renewed, but more or
fewer new ones are gained, with more or less loss of old ones, if any. The most striking orna-
ments donned for the breeding season, as the elegant plumes of many Herons, are usually worn
but a brief time, being doffed in advance of the general fall moult; and males of very many
birds which put on special nuptial ornaments make room for these by doffing feathers from the

92 GENERAL ORNITHOLOGY.

parts where the new ones grow. A few birds, as Ptarmigan (Lagopus), regularly have a third
or triple moult, '' shedding their feathers as usual by annual moult iu summer, then soon chang-
ing by another (partial) moult to pure white for the winter, then in spring moulting again more
or less to assume their wedding dress." As a rule, feathers are moulted so gradually, particu-
larly those of wings and tail, and so simultaneously upon right and left sides of the body, that
birds are at no time deprived of power of flight : moreover, the first flight-feathers acquired by
youug birds are usually kept till the next season. But those that fly very early, before they
are half grown, as so many gallinaceous birds do, include their first weak wing-feathers in the
general moult which occurs to young and old in autumn. The Duck family (Anatidcc) and
some others ofier the remarkable case, that they drop their wing-quills so nearly all at once as
to be for some time deprived of power of flight ; and on regaining them the males acquire a
postnuptial plumage very difierent from that gay attire they last wore — a dingy dress like that
of the female. Numberless other birds, like our Tanagers, the males of which are brilliant in
breeding dress, moult into a postnuptial plumage in which they resemble their homely mates.
It is difficult to lay down any rules of moulting for particular groups of birds, since very closely
related species may diflFer greatly in respect to their changes of plumage, and the subject has
not yet received the attention its interest and importance should claim for it.

The physiological processes involved in endysis and ecdysis are analogous to those con-
cerned in shedding of hair of mammals, casting of cuticle of reptiles ; for hair, cuticle, and
feather are alike cuticular or epidermal structures, as we have seen (p. 81). Therefore it
need surprise no one to learn that feathers are not the only tegumentary appendages subject to
moult. Some birds shed portions of the horny covering of the bill, feet, claws, even eyelids.
Thus in the Grouse family (Tetraonidce) the greatly overgrown claws of some species in the
winter season are reduced in size by moult or by mechanical wearing away (as is also the
case with some Lemmings among mammals) ; and some Grouse develop along the sides of
the toes a fringe of horny process which is regularly shed and renewed. The bill of Redpolls
of the genus ^giothus enlarges in summer, bulging out into a redundant growth of horn, which
in winter is mechanically worn down till the bill resumes its usual acutely conical shape. Our
White Pelican regularly sheds a curious horny outgrowth of the upper mandible. But the most
remarkable known cases of such ecdysis of horn are found in various species of the Auk family
(Alcidce) ; for a full account of which the reader is referred to my article in the body of this
book, where that family is treated at length.

Aptosochromatism. — It is certain that many birds change the colors of their plumage
without losing or gaining any feathers, and thus independently of moult. This is what I call
aptosochromatism (Gr. a, privative ; nrSxris, ptosis, a falling off or away ; xP^H'^j chroma, color,
complexion). Though I coined this word many years ago, and some of the facts to which it
applies were known long before my time, certain writers have had the hardihood to deny the
facts and decry the term. It is asserted by such persons that a feather becomes a dry dead ap-
pendage as soon as it attains its growth ; which is not true. A feather, like a hair or a claw,
retains vitality for a time after it, ceases to grow ; and does not die until it is ready to be cast
like a foreign body. True, there is no blood circulation after the pin-feather stage is past, and
the " soul " of the feather has turned to dry pith ; but a certain degree of vascularity persists for
some time thereafter, maintaining vital connection with the body, and permitting certain molec-
ular changes of pigmentation in the substance of the feather. The full-grown hairs of a mam-
mal long retain a sort of circulation which in some cases is capable of altering their color ;
witness the bleacliing of black or brown human hair in a few hours under some strong mental
emotions of grief or terror. Feathers are in precisely the same case. Nay, more ; a different
degree of vitality can easily be shown to persist in different parts of the same feather. Thus,
the primaries of many Gulls acquire definite white tips ; and these wear away sooner than the

EXTERNAL PARTS OF BIRDS.— FEATHERS. 93

"black portion of the feathers, so that the white spots are lost as neatly as if they had been
snipped away with scissors. It seems to be a rule, that heavy pigmentation tends to make a
feather more durable than it would othervAise be. Again, the identical primary of a Gull ac-
quires after it is full grown a greater extent of white or pearly web than it had before, by actual
absorption or decomposition of black pigment in a portion of the web, the bleaching being thus
progressive. Such changes could not go on in a dead feather; they are physiological processes,
or at any rate chemical processes, in living tissue, — not merely mechanical alterations due to
wear and tear of dead substance ; and they affect coloration of plumage far more profoundly
than is commonly recognized, as well as in a far greater number of cases than have been as-
cribed, as they should be, to aptosochromatism. It has been proven in the case of the red and
gray phases of our Screech Owl (Megascops asio) that aptosochromatism is effected by actual
alteration of pigmentation, without any loss of old or gain of new feathers. Erythrlsm and
melanism, and numerous other alterations of color, may be undergone by birds without any
moult ; such change may be brought about by a particular diet, and certainly this could not
occur if a grown feather were a dead feather, lacking all vascular connection with the fluids or
humors of the body. Such physiological or chemical processes as are concerned in depigmen-
tation and rcpigmentation of grown yet living feathers may be likened to the changes undergone
by chlorophyll in the leaves of plants which change from green to yellow or scarlet while they
still live, and do not lose vascular connection with the stem till they turn brown, wither, and
drop. Persons who pluck live geese understand this matter better than some ornithologists do ;
they resort to this cruel process because they can get a better pi-ice for feathers torn from the
living body of the poor bird, than for the identical feathers taken from the same goose dead,
because the former are more elastic and more durable.

Aptosochromatism is thus primarily a physiological and chemical fact. But it extends to and
is directly connected with a certain mechanical process by which plumage may be profoundly
affected in coloration without loss or gain of any feathers. Now, if the student will refer back
to what I have said regarding color, he will recall the facts, that pigmentary colors are often
dependent upon the texture of feathers for their optical effect. For example, there are no blue
pigments, but plenty of birds are blue by objective structural coloration ; and any alteration in
texture or structure of a feather is liable to produce a change of color. In fact, this sort of ap-
tosochromatism is very common ; it consists in shedding certain parts of a feather which have
less vitality than the rest, and therefore break off and drop away before the whole feather dies
and follows suit. Not only barbicels and barbules may be thus moulted, without visibly alter-
ing the shape of the feather, though very likely with some change of objective structural color-
ation, and in cases of iridescence with entire change of subjective structural coloratiou ; but also
some of the barbs themselves may fall away from the rest, with great change in the figure of
the webs, and consequently great alteration in color of plumage if, as is usually the case, the
lost portion of the webs be differently pigmented from the part that remains. Few ornitholo-
gists seem to be aware of the prevalence of this sort of aptosochromatism as a factor in modifying
or entirely changing the coloration of birds. The male of our Bobolink, for example, acquires
his faultless black plumage by shedding the long yellowish tips of the feathers which just before
had veiled those portions of his wedding suit. The Snow Bunting, which has no spring moult,
passes to the pure black and white nuptial plumage by dropping the brown edges and ends of
black centred feathers; in this case, so much of each feather is lost that the shape changes from
a broadly rounded to a sharply pointed contour. In the related genus of Longspurs I have
found that certain uniformly glossy black areas result in like manner from loss of deciduous gray
or brown portions of the webs. I have above spoken of this kind of aptosochromatism as "a
certain mechanical process." It is mechanical in the sense of breakage and loss of parts of a
feather, but this is not due to actual abrasion or wear and tear, and would not occur if there
were no physiological process concerned ; for if the parts in question were not devitalized they

94 GENERAL ORNITHOLOGY.

would not be deciduous, nor drop before the whole feather was ready to fall. While it is not
probable, as some have claimed, that a worn feather can mend its ragged edges by a new growth
of barbs, barbules, or barbicels, it is certain that a fresh feather retains for a while after it is
full grown those molecular movements in its substance which may result in deposition of addi-
tional pigment, and in absorption or decomposition of pigment already laid down ; so that some
colored areas may be extended or restricted, and also change color to some degree, during the
lifetime of an individual feather — that is, without moult — that is, in a word, aptosochromatism.
Once more; if we turn from consideraticm of color-change in the webs of feathers to such as
may be readily observed in their shafts, we find the same thing again. The surface of a rha-
chis is smooth, firm, and solidly horny, quite like the corneous covering of the bill. Now the
beak of some birds, as of the genus Leucosticte for example, is black in summer and yellow in
winter, and this is aptosochromatism, for nobody imagines that the horny sheath of the bill is
shed in this genus; it is an actual alteration in color from black to yellow and back again.
The same thing occurs, for instance, in the shaft of a Gull's primary, which alters from blackish
to yellowish or white in a certain portion of its extent corresponding to the gradual extension
of white areas in the adjoining portions of each web of the same feather, and has nothing what-
ever to do with the moult of that feather. The notorious inconstancy of coloration of what are
called the " soft parts" of most water birds is another case in point. Such as these are " softer "
than feathers, indeed, but horny epidermis is only "soft" in comparison with harder horn, not
to the degree of what is commonly called vascularity, for it has no blood vessels. I adduce these
facts to bring all the epidermal structures of birds into proper correlation, showing that feathers
do not differ from beaks or claws so much as some have assumed in the degree of that kind of
vascularity which they retain for a while after they have ceased to grow, and that in the interval
between maturity and moult they may continue subject to color-changes (a) by pigmentary
vicissitudes, (b) by structural modifications ; both of which modes of alteration in coloration
come under the head of aptosochromatism, or change of plumage without loss or gain of any
feathers.

Plumage-changes with Sex, Age, and Season. — Aside from any consideration of the
way in which plumage changes, whether by moult or otherwise, the fact remains that most
birds of the same species diS"er more or less from one another according to certain circumstances.
The dissimilarity is not only in coloration, though this is the usual and most pronounced differ-
ence, but also in the degree of development of plumes, — their size, form, and texture. Since
young birds are those which have not come to sexual vigor; since breeding recurs at regular
periods of adult life, annually or oftener; and since males and females usually differ in plu-
mage, — nearly all the various dresses worn by different individuals of the same species are cor-
related with conditions of the reproductive system. As the internal generative organs represent
of course the essential or primary sexual characters, all those of plumage just indicated may be
properly classed as secondary sexual characters. These are of great importance, not only in
practical ornithology, but as the basis of some of the soundest views that have been advanced
respecting the evolution of specific characters in this class of animals. The generalizations
may be made : that when the sexes are strikingly different in plumage, the young at first re-
semble the female ; when the adults are alike, the young are diff"erent from either ; when sea-
sonal changes are great, the young resemble the fall plumage of the parents ; and, further, that
when the adults of two related species of the same genus are nearly alike, the young are usu-
ally intermediate, their specific characters not being fully developed. Specific characters are
often to be found only in the male, the females of two related species being scarcely distinguish-
able, though the males may be told apart at a glance. Extraordinary developments of feathers,
as to size, shape, and color, are often confined to one sex, usually the male. The more richly,
extensively, or peculiarly tlic male is adorned, the simpler the female in comparison, as the

EXTERNAL PARTS OF BIRDS. — FEATHERS. 95

Peacock and Peahen. The Wise Man of Late has formulated several categories of secondary
sexual characters, giving the following rules or classes of cases : "1. When the adult male is
more beautiful or conspicuous than the adult female, the young of both sexes in their first
plumage closely resemble the adult female, as with the common Fowl and Peacock ; or, as occa-
sionally occurs, they resemble her much more closely than they do the adult male. 2. When
the adult female is more conspicuous than the adult male, as sometimes though rarely occurs
[chiefly with certain birds of prey and snipe-like birds], the young of both sexes in their first
plumage resemble the adult male. 3. When the adult male resembles the adult fem.ale, the
young of both sexes have a peculiar first plumage of their own, as with the Robin [usual].
4. When the adult male resembles the adult female, the young of both sexes in their first
plumage resemble the adults [unusual]. 5. When the adults of both sexes have a distinct
winter and summer plumage, whether or not the male differs from the fenuile, the young re-
semble the adults of both sexes in their winter dress, or much more rarely in their summer
dress, or they resemble the females alone. Or the young may have an intermediate character ;
or again they may differ greatly from the adults in both their seasonal plumages. 6. In
some few cases the young in their first plumage differ from each other according to sex ; the
young males resembling more or less closely the adult males, and the young females more or
less closely the adult females." — (Darwin, Desc. of Man, ed. 1881, p. 466.)

Summary of Secondary Sexual Characters of Birds. — The temptation to give the
conclusion of the whole matter in Darwin's own words, summary of his views of Sexual Selec-
tion as so important a factor in Natural Selection, need not be resisted. I therefore quote again
from the work last cited, pp. 496-499.

" Most male birds are highly pugnacious during the breeding season, and some possess weapons adapted for fight-
ing with their rivals. But the most pugnacious and the best armed males rarely or never depend for success solely upon
their power to drive away or kill their rivals, but have special means for charming the female. With some it is the power
of song, or of giving forth strange cries, or instrumental music, and the males in consequence ditfer in their vocal organs,
or in the structure of certain feathers. From the curiously diversified means for producing various sounds, we gain a
high idea of the importance of this means of courtship. Many birds endeavor to