Weight.—It is very desirable to ascertain the weight of an animal whenever possible. A thousand times, at least, have I been asked the weight of my big tiger (495 pounds), and that number of times have I been glad that in spite of jungle fever, I persevered with my 50-pound scales, and weighed the animal piecemeal, after he had been skinned and cut up. With a particularly fine animal it is well worth the trouble it costs.
[a]Fig. 6.]—Opening Cuts on a Large Mammal.
Skinning a Large Mammal.—Rip the skin open by a clean, straight cut from the throat along the neck, breast, middle of the belly, and on to the root of the tail. We are now obliged to slit the legs open along their entire length, so that the cuts will be as much out of sight as possible when the animal is mounted. In making these opening cuts, always insert the point of the knife under the skin, edge uppermost, to avoid cutting the hair. To rip open a leg, seize the foot in your left hand, bring the leg against your own knee to hold it tense and firm, then insert the point of your knife into the middle of the foot at the back, and cut straight up the back of the leg until you come to the "knee" on the foreleg, and hock-joint on the other. At these points gradually change the direction of the cut and run it on up the inside so that it will finally come to the body-cut at a point exactly between the legs, and as much as possible out of sight. The lines in the accompanying figure (6) show how the cuts in the legs should be made. In skinning the head of an animal having antlers or horns, it is necessary to make an opening at the back of the neck shaped like a Y. Make the cuts as shown in Fig. 7, on opposite page; cut completely around each horn at its base, and skin the head by working downward over the forehead and cheeks. The skull is then taken out through this Y[4].
Thoroughness.—The principles to be observed in skinning the body are precisely the same as those given for small mammals. Remember that it is easier to take the skin off clean and free from flesh as you cut it from the animal, and can stretch it tight with your left hand in order to shave the flesh off clean, than it will be to clean the skin after it is off. An excess of flesh left on the skin means unnecessary weight, a waste of preservatives, and longer time in curing the skin. A clean, thin skin is more easily and quickly cured and carried than one badly taken off. My habit is to clean a skin so thoroughly in taking it off that no paring down is necessary before curing it—unless, indeed, it be the skin of an elephant or other pachyderm. When I once preserved the skin of a large, old elephant in an Indian jungle, I kept ten native chucklers at work upon it for three days, thinning it down to a portable degree.
[a]Fig. 7.]—Opening Cuts at Back of Prong-horn Antelope's Head.
The Legs.—If the specimen is of medium size, e.g., not larger than a deer, disjoint the legs at shoulder and hip, and leave all the leg bones attached to the skin, just as with small mammals; but, of course, cutting off the flesh and tendons carefully. If the animal is larger than a deer, the skin would be too heavy and cumbersome to handle if all the leg bones were left attached to it. Therefore, with your elk, moose, buffalo, etc., cut off the foreleg at the "knee" (so called), and the hind leg at the hock-joint, leaving the calcaneum, or heel-bone, attached to the canon bone, and thus remaining with the skin. The bones from the two upper joints of the legs are to be cleaned of flesh, tied in a bundle, and sent with the skin—unless the collector happens to be travelling by pack train in mountainous country, far afield. In such a case we can forgive him for throwing away the large bones of the legs if he will only bring in the skin, skull, and lower leg bones all right. The point is, in mounting a skin we must have leg bones—if not the real ones, then they must be counterfeits carved out of wood, to give shape to the legs, particularly at the joints. And he who tries it once will find it is a two or three days' job to carve a large set of leg bones, even with patterns by which to work, to say nothing of having to evolve models from one's inner consciousness. Therefore, I say, save the leg bones.
Beware of Blood.—By all means keep the hair from getting bloody, but if you cannot possibly keep it clean, keep it as clean as you can. Remember that blood must be washed out on the spot, no matter how scarce water is, nor whether the mercury stand at 110° above zero, or 10° below. If a wound bleeds profusely, throw plenty of dry dirt or sand on the hair that has become bloody, to absorb the blood. The dirt can be knocked out with a stick, and it will take the blood with it. If the white hair of the prong-horn antelope once gets soaked with blood, it is impossible to remove all traces of it. The soft, tubular hairs get filled with blood wherever there is a break, and enough of it will always remain to mark the catastrophe. In the Bad Lands of Montana I once washed three long and bitterly cold hours on a fine antelope skin that had lain twenty-four hours with blood upon it, but had to give up beaten, at last, and throw the skin away.