Exploration of Aïr

by Angus Buchanan

But in addition to ornithological research, I was interested in collecting all kinds of small mammals, and as few indeed were ever seen in daylight, I had to resort almost altogether to steel traps to make my captures, and had mouse-traps, rat-traps, rabbit-traps, and fox-traps set at nights wherever I found an inhabited burrow or den or a frequented “run.”

Furthermore I had yet other matters to give thought to, for I was to bring home collections of Lepidopteræ, which entailed long excursions in the heat of the day in quest of butterflies, and patience-trying hours of watching by a lamp-lure in the darkness of night in quest of moths.

Altogether, I can assure you I had no time to weary for companionship or to realise my loneliness, and that was a comforting consideration.

I have described the manner of hunting specimens, and would now turn to the work of preserving them.

I have built a rough-framed grass hut for workshop, close to my tent. When I return in the morning, it is here that the specimens are taken, and work is begun at once, for the temperature is so great that a lifeless carcass cannot be relied on to keep fresh longer than five hours, and will certainly be beyond handling if left to the end of the day. I usually preserve from five to ten specimens in a day, the number depending on size or the success of hunting; while on special occasions I have finished as many as fifteen in a day.

Sakari and Mona, the boys selected at Lagos and Kano to help in skinning specimens, can now be trusted with certain work. The fox had been put out of pain, and, laying it on its back, I make the opening cut in it and start Sakari on the task of skinning. As he proceeds to work the skin off, from the belly upwards, the limbs are drawn inside and severed at the heel of the paws, the tail is pulled out by the root, and in time the skin is clear of the body and drawn off over the neck and head. The limbs are then labelled: “right fore,” “left fore,” “right hind,” and “left hind,” and are severed from the carcass at the hip and shoulder joints, and, along with the skull, are scraped clean of flesh and numbered and laid aside to go with the finished skin of the specimen. All the scraps of flesh and fatty matter are then removed from the skin, and I take it over from Sakari to apply a thorough coating of arsenical soap preservative, when it is labelled and completed, and laid aside to dry. It has taken Sakari about an hour and a half to do the work, and when he is finished I set him to partly skin the smaller birds, for he is light-fingered and has considerable skill.

Mona, meantime, is set to work on the large hawk, which proved to be the Banded Gymnogene (Gymnogenys typica). A smaller bird may have the wings severed at the shoulder of the carcass as the skinning progresses and the bones drawn inside to be cleaned of flesh and returned into position, but with a very large bird such procedure is impossible, and the wings must be dealt with separately. So I stretch one of the great wings to full expansion, and on the underside make a cut along the full length of it. Mona then proceeds to part the skin from flesh and bone, so that when the skin is fully released above and below the limb, he can remove all flesh. When one wing is complete, and the bones white and clean, he proceeds with the other. Now the main body may be dealt with, and a cut is made from the top of the breast-bone to the tail, and the work of skinning continues, always using maize-meal as well as scalpel in removing the skin, for the former is invaluable for absorbing all moisture, such as saliva, blood, and grease, as the skin is parted from the flesh, and safeguards all danger of soiling the plumage. From the inside the legs are severed from the body at the top of the thigh, and the tail at the base of the big quills, and Mona proceeds with removing the skin from the body—for later the legs may be returned to, the skin peeled down as far as it will go, and the flesh cleaned from the bones. Soon he reaches the shoulders, and breaks off the wing-bones close to the body, and works the skin, which is now freed from the body carcass, slowly up the neck and over the skull; the neck is then cut off at the base of the skull and the carcass thrown away. The skull is carefully cleaned and remains in the skin attached to the bill. When the limbs and skin are all thoroughly cleaned, Mona’s work is finished, for so far can I trust him to go, but no further. He has taken fully two hours over the work, and he has nothing else to do for the time being, since he is not yet sufficiently skilled to skin the smaller things. I now take the hawk skin from Mona and thoroughly anoint the skull and neck with preservative soap, fill the eye-sockets with globular balls of cotton wool, to take the place of the live eye, and pass the head back through the neck into its normal position; I then soap all the remainder of the skin, and place a thin layer of cotton-wool over the damp surface as I go along to keep the feathers from becoming soiled should they turn over skinwards as they often do. When that is done, the bird is completely preserved; but still it has to be reformed, so that it will dry in a perfectly natural outstretched posture. With this intention I first take needle and strong thread, and where I see the base of the scapular feathers showing on the inside of the skin, on either side, I pass the thread through each, and tie it so that in doing so the shoulders are brought together—a trick that greatly assists in bringing the wing butts back into their normal place. Next I cut a stout straight stick or rod of the length of the bird, and point both ends. Upon the upper length of this I wrap sufficient wool to fill the neck, and when that is done, it is carefully inserted in the neckskin and the point of the stick forced up into the base of the bill, while the other end is fixed into the root of the tail. The bird-skin is now lying, back-downwards, with a straight firm rod running down the centre of it; round this rod I commence to build the woollen filling, until a form is shaped of the size of the carcass. I then see that the base of the wing-bones and leg-bones are nicely set close into the body, and, that done, draw the skin over the breast into its original position, and hold it in place with a few stitches; and the bird is ready to pick up and have the feathers rearranged with such care that no one may suspect that it has ever been tampered with—work that requires a distressing amount of patience if you desire a beautiful specimen. When every feather is in place, the specimen is laid in a coffin-shaped mould[6] of correct width to hold the wings in place close to the body, and it is then set aside to dry. When quite dry, the specimen is perfectly rigid, and requires no further support, and may be handled freely.

Small birds are treated in the same way, except that there is no difficulty with the wings, but the work is much more dainty, and requires light fingers and a great store of patience.

Some birds, such as ducks and night-jars, cannot be skinned by bringing the neck over the head, as the latter is too large; in such cases an incision is made in the back of the head and the skull worked out through it.

Meantime, while the natives have been employed with fox and hawk, I have worked on the small birds (the Colies), so that by mid-afternoon all are finished and laid aside to dry, with sufficient camphor sprinkled over them to keep ants from attacking the soft parts of the head. I am then free to set out on another search for specimens or to employ my time in setting traps. If I collect in the cool of the evening, I keep specimens overnight, which can be done without fear of decay, and start skinning them at daybreak on the following morning.