For your own picture you do not assume a violent and tragic attitude, nor anything strained. You stand or sit at ease, quietly but intently regarding something in particular; or your attitude may with equal propriety represent a moment of rest in the course of some quiet action. Pose your mounted specimens according to the same principles, and the results will be most satisfactory to all. The choice of an attitude depends wholly upon your artistic instincts, "upon your eye," so to speak. Choose that one which is most graceful or grand, and is at the same time truly characteristic of the subject. To my mind, the attitude taken by an animal when startled by visible or suspected danger, is the one par excellence in which it appears at its best when mounted. Under such conditions the animal always stands fully erect, head aloft, and with every sense keenly on the alert. The next best attitude is that which represents an animal quietly walking or climbing, according to its habits and modes of progression.
The subject of groups and grouping will be considered in full later on in this work.
Proportions.—On this point a single observation will be sufficient. The taxidermist often receives, from the zoological gardens and menageries, specimens that are very thin in flesh. In mounting an animal, do not let your knowledge of anatomy run away with your judgment, art, and even nature itself, by producing a tiger, panther, zebra, or buffalo with all its ribs showing, and its scapula, pelvis, and vertebral column all standing out in bold relief. Unless the individuals of a given species are always scrawny, I pray you, for the sake of truth and justice, do not make your solitary representative of that species look like a candidate for special honors at a bone-yard.
Let me assure you, on the honor of a hunter, that animals in a state of nature are nearly always well fed and plump-looking, and show very few bones. It is easy to make ribs on a clay-covered manikin, but do not do it on a wild animal, unless you deliberately intend to produce a starveling. According to its nature, make every animal look well-fed and in good condition, but not fat. It seldom happens that a wild animal in a state of nature grows really fat, but it is still more seldom that one looks under-fed and poor. If fatness is a special characteristic of a species, then fat let it be, but scrawny never.
Above all things, avoid in your birds and quadrupeds the half-filled body which makes the subject look as if it had been eviscerated. The abdomen is always convex, not concave.
The Uses of Clay as a Filling Material.—The value of clay in the mounting of mammals, reptiles, and fishes can hardly be overestimated. Previous to 1880 its use among the taxidermists of my acquaintance was unknown, and when its value was discovered and put to general use by the writer, in the year mentioned, many of my rivals predicted all manner of evil from it. They declared it would destroy skins, go to dust within them, become soft mud in damp weather, crack, etc. I persisted in its use, disproving all evil prognostications, and now its general use really marks a new era in American taxidermy. By means of this common and cheap material it is not only possible but easy to mount a horse, a seal, a hairless dog, a turtle, snake, fish, or any other animal, with absolute accuracy in every detail of form and size. Not only is this true, but, so far as I can discover, there is no other material than clay with which these results can be accomplished. For covering manikins, coating the skulls of large animals, and for filling in the nose, mouth, eyes, and ears, it is everything that could be desired. With it a stretched skin,
"A world too wide for his shrunk shank,"
can be worked together on the clay-covered manikin, and reduced in size until it fits without the slightest visible wrinkle, or any cutting out such as used to be necessary by the old methods.
To prepare clay for use, take the clean, worked chunks of soft potter's clay (which costs about two cents per pound, and should be quite free from sand and grit), put the right quantity in a pail, and pour a little water upon it. With the hands knead it until the water is taken up, and it becomes as soft as dough. It will, of course, be quite sticky, and in this state is altogether too soft to use except to cover a large manikin, in which case it must be soft enough to spread easily with the hand. For ordinary use, however, chop up finely, with the hatchet, some clean hemp tow of long fibre, and mix it thoroughly with the clay, which can be done only with the hand. This makes the clay more stiff, about like soft putty, and of the proper consistency for filling into feet, cheeks, eyes, mouth, nose, etc. If the clay is too soft, you will have difficulty in making it retain the proper form under the skin. If it is too stiff, it balls up, and you can not work it along under the skin from one part to another. When you learn to make it of just the right consistency it works to perfection, no matter where you put it, and will forever retain the form your fingers give it by pressure from without. Elsewhere will be given more detailed advice in regard to the various uses of clay.
Coloring.—The time was when American curators held it sacrilege to paint the soft parts of birds, and the hairless portions of certain mammals. For my part, I have always fought that idea unconditionally, in season and out of season, and I am glad to say that within the last eight years it has been utterly abandoned. Clearly, it is better to reproduce the colors of soft parts as accurately as one can, rather than let them remain in a colorless, dry, and mummified condition, hideous to the eye and meaningless to the understanding. By all means let us color everything that has color in life, though the heavens fall. Ascertain in some way what the color should be (this can often be done by reference to books with colored plates), then paint accordingly. Paint with turpentine and oil, rather than with oil alone, which leaves an unnatural gloss. You can tone down any oil color, however, by stippling it with a stipple brush dipped in a pan of dry color, or plaster Paris. The taxidermist who can paint the exposed parts of his specimens accurately and artistically has a very powerful advantage over all those who can not. This subject will also receive special attention elsewhere.