416 REPORT OF NATIONAL MUSEUM, 1892. 



the domesticated bird. I consider this to be one of the finest pieces of 

 modern taxidermy, so far as birds are concerned, in the museum. The 

 arrangement of the exceedingly profuse plumage is perfect; the mark- 

 edly oblique tilting of the spread tail, a feature that it is difficult to 

 appreciate in the plate, is most truthfully rendered. This bird's head 

 was prepared after the usual methods, but I understand it is contem- 

 plated to model it in wax, like the one just described above. When 

 this is done I believe the National Museum will possess the finest 

 specimen of a mounted wild turkey in existence. 



( )wls have not only given a great many artists infinite trouble to 

 correctly portray, but they have likewise been placed upon the black 

 list of a perfect host of taxidermists. Literature illumed by plates of 

 birds goes to show that many an ornithologist who could draw and 

 paint nearly every other kind of bird failed when owls were essayed. 

 So, too, there are taxidermists who can mount most all birds correctly, 

 who fail to a large extent when they take any of the Striges in hand. 

 Wilson, the American ornithologist, used to complain bitterly of his in- 

 ability to figure any of these birds exactly to his liking, and even the 

 master, Audubon, shows a little weakness sometimes in such directions. 

 Now, in my first attempts at the photography of birds, owls were the 

 subjects, and one might think, inasmuch as they quietly roost and 

 doze nearly all day, that is, the strictly nocturnal species, they would 

 be easy subjects, but this is by no means always the case. A number 

 of years ago, in New Mexico, I frequently tried specimens of Aiken's 

 Screech owl (Megascops asio aikeni), but the results obtained were never 

 entirely satisfactory to me. I have kept many kinds of American 

 owls alive in my lifetime, and these screech owls have a habit, com- 

 mon to some other species during their dozing hours during the day, 

 of drawing themselves up in an erect attitude, with all the feathers 

 compressed against the body, and with the plumicorns erected to their 

 fullest extent. But when we come to try and photograph one in such 

 a desirable attitude, we must, to get him anything like life size, get 

 the camera within a very few inches of his owlship, and this almost 

 invariably alarms him, and he will flatten out his plumicorns, puff him- 

 self up, and then, after a second's idiotic stare, fly to some other part of 

 the room. Photographing them at a longer distance makes the figure 

 of him too small. 



I was once a whole day here at Takoma endeavoring to secure a pho- 

 tograph of oneof our Common Sereeeh owls (M egascops asio) in my room — 

 and then failed. He would jump up on top of my camera, emit a loud, 

 rolling whistling note of disapproval of the procedure, dash off and 

 finally nearly brain himself by bumping into the mirror of my wardrobe. 

 I'd hypnotize him, stand him on the perch, and disappear for half an 

 hour, and on my return he would be standing up as straight as a rocket 

 in just the position I wanted him, but all my efforts to sneak up to the 

 camera and remove the cap and make the necessary exposure failed 



