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Volume 42, Number 1 January 1971 

Field Museum of Natural History 



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Cover: reproduction of a specimen of 
tapa cloth) from A Catalogue of the 
Difterent Specimens of Clotti Collected 
\ in the Three Voyages of Captain Cook, 
\ to the Southern Hemisphere. 



BULLETIN 

Volume 42, Number 1 
January 1971 



2 The Primitive Basis of Our Calendar 

Van L. Johnson 

a study of the Roman calendar explains why our present calendar Is In Its 

current form 

8 Tapa Cloth 

W. Peyton Fawcett 

a generous gift of a catalogue of tapa cloth specimens is described 

1 Space Biology and the Murchison IMeteorite 

Dr. Edward J. Olsen 

a recent discovery of amino acids in meteorites is discussed 

1 2 Portrait of a Naturalist-Explorer 

Joyce Zibro 

Dr. Emmet R. Blake, curator of birds, is profiled 

17 New Books 

18 Letters 

19 Field Briefs 
Calendar 



Field Museum of Natural History 

Director, E. Leiand Webber 

Editor Joyce Zibro: Associate Editor Victoria Haider: Staff Writer Madge Jacobs; Production Russ Becker: Photograptiy John Bayalis, 
Fred Huysmans. 

The Bulletin is published monthly by Field Museum of Natural History, Roosevelt Road at Lake Shore Drive. Chicago, Illinois, 60605. Subscrip- 
tions: $9 a year: $3 a year for sctiools. Members of the Museum subscribe througti Museum membership. Opinions expressed by authors 
are their own and do not necessarily reflect the policy of Field Museum. Unsolicited manuscripts are welcome. Printed by Field Museum 
Press. Application to mail at Second-class postage rates is pending at Chicago, Illinois. Postmaster: Please send form 3579 to Field Museum 
of Natural History, Roosevelt Road at Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, Illinois 60605. 



Bulletin January 1971 



The Primitive 
Basis of 
Our Calendar 



Van L Johnson 




Bulletin January 1971 



Why does the year begin on January 
first? Why are there twelve months in 
a year and why is the twelfth month 
December when its very name means 
"tenth month"? Why does a week have 
seven days, a day twenty-four hours, 
an hour sixty minutes? A study of the 
Roman calendar can lead to answers to 
questions like these and uncovers 
the primitive basis of our calendar, an 
institution that has become a silent 
dictator of our life's pace in so-called 
civilized times. 

We are still using the Roman calendar 
except for minor changes made after 
Caesar's reform in 45 B.C. This is rather 
remarkable considering the revolutionary 
changes made in the calendar up to 
Caesar's time. A study of the origins 
of our calendar faces the obstacle that 
the Roman calendar was not published 
until 304 B.C. and the oldest extant 
calendar, that of Antium, goes back only 
to sometime in the early first century 
B.C. However, evidence for the primitive 
calendar does exist, for the Roman 
calendar was basically a list of festivals, 
anniversaries and annotations which 
included matter of great antiquity. 
Also, the Romans, great conservatives 
especially in their religious concerns, 
often preserved what they no longer 
understood and primitive elements 
persisted — thanks to this conservatism 
— in most of the great festivals still 
celebrated in Imperial times. Through a 
study of these obsolete factors 
preserved in the written calendars and 
the later festivals, we are able to 
reconstruct the earlier history of the 
calendar and to form some notion about 
what lies hidden in the prehistoric 
darkness from which the calendar 
emerged. 

In research of this kind, complete 
certainty is usually impossible, but I 
believe that I have found a major clue 
to the solution of many perplexing 
problems: namely, an unrecorded 
four-month year. A study of the nundinal 



This is a Iragment ot the calendar of 
Praeneste lor the beginning ot Inarch. 
Fragments ol this calendar have been 
coming to light since the litteenth century. 



or Roman weekday system first led me 
to assume the existence in primitive 
times of this four-month year. Yet its 
existence can be detected quite simply 
in our present names for the months: 
December, our twelfth month, really 
means "the tenth month," and this 
count goes back in an orderly way to 
September, our ninth month, which 
really means the "seventh month." We 
know too that August and July, our 
eighth and seventh months, were 
originally the "sixth" and "fifth" months 
(Sextilis and Quintilis) renamed in 
honor of Augustus and Julius Caesar in 
their own lifetime. All this implies that 
the year once began with March, that 
January and February were added at 
some time to a ten-month calendar, and 
that there was an original cluster of 
four named months — March, April, May 
and June — to which six numbered 
months were added to form the 
ten-month year. 

It appears that this cluster of four 
named months was actually an original 
four-month year. Since three four-month 
years would just about complete one 
solar year this was probably the best 
calendar the Romans possessed and 
used until Caesar's reform of the 
calendar in 45 B.C. For most primitive 
peoples, the sun measures only the 
day; and the moon, with its distinctive 
phases is the first measurement of 
periods beyond that. In addition, 
primitive people often designate market 
days (the days when they gathered to 
exchange goods) with regular intervals 
between them. The early Romans seem 
to have followed this pattern and a 
four-month year may be their attempt 
to combine a thirty-day lunation with an 
eight-day market-week. Their market 
days were called nundinae or "ninth 
days," but this means "eight days" by 
our mode of reckoning which is not 
inclusive like the Roman. The meshing 
of these two time-units — thirty and 
eight — could be soonest accomplished 
in four months of thirty days each, i.e., 
a year or cycle — that is what the Latin 
word for year, annus, seems to 
mean— of 120 days. This is what 
anthropologists call a permutation 



cycle — a term which means that the 
cycle is completed and begins again 
every time the two intervals in question 
coincide: this would have been on 
March first in the four-month year under 
discussion. However, the focal point in 
each month was not the Kalends as 
the first day, but the Ides or "Divider" 
which always came sixteen days before 
the end of the month, because half of 
thirty on the duodecimal system used 
by the Romans in computing fractions is 
not fifteen, but sixteen. 

The Ides of March was particularly 
prominent because March was the first 
month. In a thirty-day month it must 
have fallen on the fourteenth day of the 
month and on the sixth day of a Roman 
eight-day week. The Ides was 
celebrated as New Year's Day with 
great festivities for Anna Perenna, the 
"Unending Year-Cycle." Festivals like 
this were known as feriae, so that the 
Ides of March is a ferial day or, as 
abbreviated in Latin, an F-day. The Ides 
was also, I think, a nundinal or 
market-day, for the great fair in honor 
of Feronia, the market deity, would 
have fallen on this day in a four-month 
year. Moreover, all other market days 
were reckoned progressively from this 
date, so that all fell on the sixth day of a 
Roman week and the earliest calendar 
was probably simply a list of these 
nundinae. They were also festival or 
ferial days for the first recognized 
divinities, so that these days were 
labeled F. Other days of the week, if 
they had to be identified, were simply 
referred to by the remaining letters of 
the alphabet from A-H. 

Days of the month, as opposed to 
days of the week, were numbered, I 
believe, by counting up to and down 
from the Ides: two vestiges of this 
practice survive in the name "Nones" 
for the ninth, i.e., the eighth day before 
the Ides, and in the name of a festival, 
the Quinquatrus which seems to mean 
the fifth day after the Ides of March. 
This practice was abandoned in later 
calendars when the Nones and the 
Kalends became reference points in 
counting, along with the Ides. 



Bulletin January 1971 



3 



Calendar 

The primitive calendar was a permanent 
calendar, of course — something which 
calendar reformers are again striving 
for — since a new year began 
automatically whenever the first day of 
the week and the first day of the month 
coincided. The permanent nature of the 
calendar is nicely illustrated in 
a phrase which runs through ancient 
literature on the subject, the annus 
vertens or "turning year." Commentators 
have seen a reference to the turning 
heavens and other celestial matters; 
but at a primitive level, it must have 
meant something more recognizably 
physical, and I suspect that it refers to 
actual four-sided stone calendars with 
one month on each side. These were 
no doubt turned, perhaps on a pivot, to 
face the viewer as the months changed. 
I would think that we have relics of 
these in the four-sided rustic month- 
counters, the menologia rustics, which 
carried a twelve-month calendar with 
three months on each side. These 
stones — of Imperial date — have been 
regarded as seasonal calendars, but 
that is an odd seasonal arrangement 
of months for Italy. They are more likely 
an adaptation of an earlier four-month 
calendar. 

If we analyze this four-month calendar, 
the units it contained and the rituals it 
embraced, we can form a clear picture 
of the community it served and the 
economy it reflected. The eight-day 
market-week probably reflects the 
length of time it took (eight days) to 
process goat cheese in ancient Italy. 
The length of the year, 120 days, 
matches the gestation period of the pig. 
Two of the primitive month-names, 
April and May, I would derive from 
aper meaning "boar" and from maia, 
tRe name of a goddess which I think 
means "sow." Maia is certainly related 
to malalis, the Latin word for a gelding 
boar, and its derivative maiale which is 
still the Italian word for "pig." The 
quality of this sow or maia was 
maiestas, so after all, "majesty" turns 
out to be only "pigness." March and 
June, in myopinion, were not so named 
in the beginning, for there is no trace 



of Mars in the festivals of this primitive 
March; and June, if named for Juno by 
Latin peoples, would have been called 
Junonius, not Junius. The first of June 
was always known not as the Kalends 
of June but as Kalendae Fabariae, the 
"Kalends of the Bean" and here, I 
think, we have a vestige of the earlier 
month-name, Fabarius, the month of 
the "bean," a staple diet for hogs in 
early Italy. The month we call Marchi — 
because the Romans named it Martius 
later on when the cult of Mars was 
introduced — may have received its 
original name, Caprotinus, from a very 
important festival which later was 
attached to July and appears there in 
all the extant Roman calendars as 
Nonae Caprotinae, the Caprotine 
Nones. In a four-month year this would 
have been the Nones of what we call 
March. This illustrates how festivals or 
parts of festivals were dispersed over 
an ultimate twelve-month year — an 
important phenomenon in the study of 
the calendar. For example, if we 
identify the Caprotine Nones as 
originally the Nones of March, it is 
concurrent with some interesting rites 
for Vediovis, a god usually described 
as a youthful Jove to whom a capra 
was sacrificed. Capra is the root of 
Caprotina and in developed Latin 
means "goat," so Nonae Caprotinae is 
usually translated "Nones of the Goat." 
But we can go even further than this, 
for capra is the cognate of a Greek 
word kapros which means either "sow" 
or "boar" and accounts perhaps for 
the name of the island of Capri — 
irreverent thought! Since both words 
are also related to Latin aper (boar), 
with a "k" prefix, it is probable that 
capra in Latin originally referred to a 
sow and not to a she-goat. Therefore 
the month of Caprotinus is another 
month named for the pig, and all four 
months of the primitive contain some 
reference to this animal or its food. 

To the four original months, six 
months, simply numbered from five to 
ten — Quintilis, Sextilis, September, 
October, November and December — 
were added, tradition says, by Romulus. 



This new year of ten lunations, or 300 
days, corresponding roughly to the 
gestation period in cattle and in human 
beings, was augmented by four days 
to give a multiple of eight for the total 
number of days in a year, 304, so that 
the eight-day week would still mesh 
with months. These four extra days 
were added, one each, to the months 
of March, May, July and October which 
continued throughout Roman history to 
have their Ides or full moon reckoned 
on the basis of a 31 -day month. 

Since the months now varied in their 
number of days, it was necessary to 
inaugurate a system of dating which 
indicated how many days there were in 
the month at hand. The Nones was 
made a point of reckoning, and the 
Kalends was introduced to "call" the 
Nones. When the Nones took on this 
new importance for dating, it was 
necessary to distinguish it carefully 
from "nundinae" a word which means 
exactly the same thing as Nones, "ninth 
days," because there was only one 
Nones in a month whereas there might 
be three or four "nundinae" in the 
same period. Hence the reformer was 
scrupulous in avoiding a nundinal 
Nones and later superstition confirmed 
his effort by suggesting that a nundinal 
Nones was unlucky. The force of this 
scruple explains why "Romulus" added 
a day to alternate months until he got 
to September; he skipped September 
and added a day to October because 
thirty-one days in September would 
have produced a nundinal Nones. 

Numa, the second king of Rome, is 
credited with instituting the first lunar 
year by adding fifty days to the 
calendar of Romulus. To equalize the 
distribution of 354 days over twelve 
months, he subtracted one day from 
each of the thirty-day months, added 
these to his new fifty days and divided 
the sum, 56, into two new months of 
twenty-eight days each: January and 
February. 

Since fifty-six is a multiple of eight, 
both January 1 and March 1 were 
A-days (first days of a Roman week) 



Bulletin January 1971 















DC 



^•r^' 



I 







-tr^n" DF 



4 





•f^ ^j:^' 



a^ 



^ 



c 



«c 

BC 



.s/vi 



This is the fragmentary calendar ot Antium 
discovered in 1915 by the Italian scholar 
G. Mancini. This inscription records the 
oldest extant Roman calendar unearthed to 
date. The thirteen months is represented 
by a column with the abbreviations tor the 
name ol the month at the top, and includes 
the intercalary month. The first column of 
letters under each month indicates the 
eight days of the Roman weefc lettered from 
A to H. The second column of letters 
abbreviates the legal status of certain days 
and the abbreviated words indicate the 
dates ol festivals or dedications. 



4 



Kirn 







^^'. 



^^ 



Bulletin January 1971 



Calendar 



in the first year of this reform; but to 
keep them so, since 354 is not a 
multiple of eight, it was necessary to 
add days to one week toward the end 
of the year. This was accomplished, I 
believe, by lettering three days, namely 
December 17-19, all as F-days. This 
was done by instituting the Saturnalia 
on December 17 and connecting its 
ferial functions with those of the Opalia 
on December 19. Thus a tradition for 
a three-day Saturnalia developed and 
we find the real origins of intercalation 
in this very simple device to make the 
year end with an H-day (the last day of 
a Roman week). Meanwhile, the 
reformer neatly contrived to leave it an 
open question as to when the year 
really began. March first was still an 
A-day, but so was January first. 

Reforms, however, can be over- 
ingenious and that proved to be the 
case with the calendar of Numa. The 
intercalation was immediately neglected 
or misunderstood or even resented 
(since January first had no sanctity as 
an A-day) and people went right on 
lettering December 17-19 in the normal 
way. This produced a nundinal Nones 
in January — or would have done so if 
new measures had not been taken. The 
same reformer, or a new one whom I 
label Numa II, found a solution by 
adding a day to January; thus removing 
the Nones from its unlucky nundinal 
position and giving the year 355 days, 
a number achieved in this simple way 
and not because of any superstition 
against even numbers (the ancient 
explanation). But 355 is not a multiple 
of eight either, so a new method of 
intercalation had to be devised. This 
consisted of adding five days to the 
calendar between February 23 and 24, 
all lettered in the normal way, but this 
time unnumbered. Here we have the 
origin of two interesting festivals, the 
Terminalia of February 23 and the 
Regiiugium of February 24, as well as 
the origin of intercalating at this point 
in the calendar. March 1 thus resumed 
its old sanctity as the one true New 
Year's Day and remained so for some 
purposes down to 153 B.C. 




During the Republic, intercalation came 
to be used for a different purpose: to 
bring the lunar year into accord with 
the solar year of 365 or 366 days. An 
intercalary month of twenty-two or 
twenty-three days, called Mercedonius, 
was added in alternate years after 
February 23, the day of the Terminalia, 
and the last five days of February were 
absorbed as the last five days of 
Mercedonius, a vestige of Numa's five 
unnumbered days. This device was so 
often neglected, however, or corrupted 
by priestly or political abuses that the 
calendar had very little relation to the 
sun's course when Julius Caesar and his 
learned adviser, Sosigenes, introduced 
those reforms which are still the basis 
of our calendar. Caesar first extended 
the year 46 B.C. to 445 days, thus 
bringing the old calendar into 
agreement with astronomical 



observations; then, on January 1, 45 
B.C. he introduced a solar calendar of 
365y4 days: the fourth parts were 
allowed to accumulate and produce a 
year of 366 days once every four years. 
To achieve the ten new days of a 
normal year (365 minus 355), Caesar 
added two days each to January, 
August and December, one day each to 
April, June, September and November; 
and the extra day for leap years was 
inserted after February 23 as February 
24 repeated, i.e., bissextilis the "twice 
sixth-day" before the first of March. 
So it is we speak of a bisextile year. 

Caesar's calendar was eleven minutes, 
fourteen seconds too long, so Pope 
Gregory made a slight adjustment in 
1582 A.D., dropping ten excessive 
days at once and stipulating that leap 
year be observed in centesimal years 



Bulletin January 1971 



only when they are divisible by 400. 
These corrections were not accepted 
in Great Britain and the American 
colonies until 1752 A.D. 

The seven-day planetary week was not 
common in Rome or the West until the 
third century of our era although it 
appears to have existed alongside the 
Roman eight-day week in a Sabine 
calendar in the first century after Christ. 
The planetary week had its origins in 
the Eastern Mediterranean where 
Babylonian astrology, the Hebrew 
Sabbath-week and Egyptian astronomy 
combined to formulate and confirm it. 
The nature of the planets was first 
discovered in Mesopotamia where an 
intense interest in the heavens gave 
rise to the pseudo-science of astrology: 
the sun and moon, however, were 
included in a list of seven "planets" or 
"travelers," and the earth was omitted 
as being the stationary center of a 
geocentric universe. Saturn, Jupiter, 
Mars, Venus and Mercury (to use the 
Latin names still current) were properly 
located, at least in respect to their 
relative distances from the earth. Pluto, 
Neptune and Uranus were, of course, 
unknown so the seven "planets" were 
Saturn (the outermost), Jupiter, Mars, 
Sol, Venus, Mercury, and Luna, in that 
order. The planets were conceived as 
moving in spheres or orbits around the 
earth and passing through twelve 
constellations or "fixed stars" which 
made a zodiac or "belt of animals" 
around the heavens, with the sun's 
path or ecliptic as the middle line. 
Since the sun travels through ail twelve 
signs of the zodiac in one year and 
remains about the same length of time 
in each, this system evolved something 
like a solar month which could be 
related to the equinoxes and the 
solstices. 

But in Egypt the planetary system 
underwent further development, as the 
seven planets were meshed with a 
twenty-four hour day: assigning Saturn 
to the first hour of the first day, Jupiter 
to the second hour, Mars to the third, 
etc., introduces Sol at the first hour of 
the second day, Luna at the first hour 



of the third day, and so on until each 
"planet" has been associated with that 
day of which it marks the tirst hour. 
Thus the seven "planets" name the 
seven days of the week in this order: 
Saturn, Sol, Luna, Mars, Mercury, 
Jupiter and Venus. In this sequence 
these seven celestial bodies still name, 
with minor exceptions, the seven days 
of our week; French preserved the 
Latin names while German and English 
translate them into the names of 
counterparts among Germanic deities. 

The day itself appears to owe its 
twenty-four hour division to an Egyptian 
arrangement which affects the Graeco- 
Roman world at an early period, since 
twelve hours of night and twelve hours 
of day were customary both in Greece 
and Rome. The twelve-hour system 
originated in certain "diagonal" 
calendars which date back to anywhere 
from 1800 to 1200 B.C. in Egypt. 

The Egyptians had a solar year of 365 
days divided into twelve months of 
thirty days each, plus five epagomenal 
days. The 360 days of the twelve 
regular months were divided into 
thirty-six decades of ten days each, to 
each decade there was assigned a 
particular constellation or decan. The 
heliacal or dawn rising of this 
constellation marked the last hour of 
the night for a ten-day period; it was 
then succeeded as decan by a new 
constellation, and retired — so to speak 
— to the next-to-the-last hour of the 
night, and so on. Only one of these 
decans can be identified, Sirius, whose 
heliacal rising in the summer marked 
the inundation of the Nile. Had day 
and night been of equal length, 18 
decans would have been visible every 
night: but because of twilight and the 
short nights of summer when Sirius 
rises, only twelve were visible over a 
ten-day period. This twelve hour 
division of the night was then imposed 
on the day, perhaps reinforcing a 
division of the day into ten hours plus 
one hour of morning twilight and one 
hour of evening twilight — a division 
which was known in Egypt as early as 
1300 B.C. Our division of the hour into 



sixty minutes is the result of Hellenistic 
computations worked out o« the 
sexagesimal system first devised by the 
Babylonians about 1800 to 1600 B.C. 
Thus the sixty-minute hour, the twenty- 
four hour day, the seven-day week, the 
twelve-month year — all represerU 
centuries of development from a 
primitive mixture of superstition and 
acute observation to the system now 
ta4<en for granted. 



Dr. Van L Johnson is Professor of Latin 
and Chairman of the Department of Cfassics 
at Tufts University. This arficie was 
reprinted with permission from Archaeology, 
Vofume 21, Number 1, Copyright 1968, 
Archaeofogicai institute of America. 



Bulletin January 1971 




Tapa Cloth 



IV. Peyton Fawcett 



The Museum has received with the 
greatest pleasure another gift from Mrs. 
E. W. Fuller of Sussex, a rare and 
interesting book titled A Catalogue of 
the Different Specimens of Cloth 
Collected in the Three Voyages of 
Captain Cook, to the Southern 
Hemisphere. This volume, from the 
library of Mrs. Fuller's late husband 
Captain A. W. F. Fuller, is one of the 
curiosities of literature and is of great 
ethnological, artistic, and historical 
value. It is a most welcome addition 
to the Library's collections. 

The volume was published in the year 
1787 in London and is illustrated with 
actual samples of the tapa or bark cloth 
collected by Cook and his companions 
during that great explorer's three 
voyages. The text is brief, consisting of 
some observations on the manufacture 
of bark cloth in Polynesia, and chiefly 
taken from the journals of Cook, 
Anderson, and John Reinhold Forster. 
Appended to this are "the verbal 
Account of some of the most knowing 
of the Navigators" and "Some 
anecdotes that happened to them 
among the Natives" in the form of 
notes on the items listed. 

Oddly enough the author is not known 
and his dedication, in vigorous, 
picturesque, and charming English, is 
to a person not named: 

Sir, these are only select specimens for a 
few friends, but if I was capable to give the 
public a particular account of the manner of 
manufacturing cloth in every part of the 
world, I would not hesitate one moment to 
dedicate it to you, as there is none more 
ready to feed the hungry and clothe the 
naked: would to God it was as much in your 
power as it is in your heart to wipe the tear 
from every eye, but that is impossible; for 
while you was teaching Indian nations how 
to be happy, you was as much wanted at 
home, where it is our constant wish that 
Heaven may long presen/e you the support 
of science, and idol of family and friends . . . 

Henry Usher Hall, In his description of 
the copy of this work in the 
Pennsylvania University Museum ("A 
Book of Tapa," The Museum Journal, 



Bulletin January 1971 



vol. 12, no. 1, 1921), argues very 
plausibly that this person is Warren 
Hastings, the first titular Governor of 
India, whose impeachment was pending 
at the time the dedication was written. 

Another curious feature is the disparity 
between the number of specimens as 
given in the list and the actual number 
of tapa specimens and in their 
arrangement. Our copy agrees with 
that in the Pennsylvania University 
Museum in having 39 items on the list 
and 43 actual specimens, but the 
arrangement seems to differ. Hall notes 
that the Peabody Museum of Salem 
copy has 56 specimens and a list of 
39. The copy described by Dr. W. T. 
Brigham in his book on tapa making 
Ka Hana Kapa (Memoirs of the Bernice 
P. Bishop Museum, 3, Honolulu, 1911) 
apparently has only 39 actual 
specimens, but again the arrangement 
is different. Captain Fuller had 
compared his copy with others and 
noted that "The printed descriptions 
are totally unreliable and have no 
relation to the specimens." I should 
like to remark in passing that Captain 
Fuller was a man who knew his books 
and collections intimately and who kept 
copious and meaningful notes on the 
provenance, history, peculiarities, and 
other features of his materials. I have 
had the pleasure of cataloguing a 
number of his books and have much 
admired the fullness and depth of his 
researches. The present volume is no 
exception and is enriched with a 
number of valuable notes. 

The difficulties in identifying particular 
specimens as they stand with the 
numbers of the list, which is not in any 
real sense descriptive, are very great; 
the actual specimens are unnumbered. 
As Hall points out, "The original 
compiler's chief concern, apart from 
that in the methods of manufacture, 
seems to be with the human interest 
evoked through contact by the proxy, so 
to speak, of their intimate belongings 
with the simple people of the South 
Seas. It is with a kind of pleased 
surprise that he finds these people 



capable of emotions quite other than 
fierce." A good example of this is the 
description of cloth number 34 of the 
list: 

From Otaheite [Tahiti], wore as garments by 
the ladies. A number of the natives being 
on board of the Resolution, one of the chiefs 
look a particular liking to an old blunt iron, 
which lay upon one of the officer's chests, 
and taking hold of a boy about nine years 
of age, offered him in exchange, pointing 
to the iron. The gentleman, although 
he knew he could not keep the youth, yet 
willing to see if he would willingly stay; or if 
any of the rest would claim him, took the 
child and gave the savage the iron; upon 
which a woman, who appeared rather young 
for the mother, sprung from the other side 
of the ship, and with the highest emotions 
of grief seemed to bewail the loss of the 
infant: but the lieutenant, with a true 
British spirit, took him by the hand and 
presented him to her, upon which, after 
putting her hands twice upon her head, she 
unbound the roll of cloth which was round 
her body, and from which this specimen 
was cut, and having spread it before him, 
seized the boy, and jumping into the sea 
both swam ashore, nor could he ever learn 
whether she was the mother, sister, or 
relations, and this he lamented the more, as 
such affection was very seldom seen 
among those people. 

Specimen number 34 in our volume is 
very thin and of a dark ivory color. 
Number 34 in the Brigham copy is 
described as "A thick coarse, ribbed 
cloth painted in triangular patterns of 
orange, red, brown, with black dividing 
lines. So far as the diminutive 
specimen shows the design, it was 
gaudy rather than artistic." Hall 
believes that number 37 of the 
Pennsylvania University Museum copy 
is the same as Brigham's 34. From the 
plate in Hall's article it appears that 
Qur number 11 is the same. 

Of the accounts of the manufacture of 
bark cloth three are well known and 
the one from an anonymous navigator 
is rather too long for quotation. 
Basically, the manufacturing process, 
similar to making felt, consists of 
stripping off the bast and soaking, then 
beating it to cause the fibers to 
interlace and achieve proper thickness. 



The uses to which this cloth was put 
were many and varied. Its principal 
use was for clothing, chiefly in the forni 
of loin cloths for men and women, 
breech cloths for the men, and mantles 
and cloaks for both sexes. It was also 
an important medium of exchange and 
an element of wealth. As such it was 
presented to distinguished visitors as a 
mark of favor. It also had many uses 
connected with religious and 
ceremonial occasions. 

The Museum owns other pieces of tapa 
cloth from the Fuller collection, 
including one lot of great historical 
significance. Captain Fuller, speaking 
of it in 1958, said; 

This is a little collection of seven pieces . . . 
from I don't know [where]. Some look 
Hawaiian, others look Tahiti[an]. This is the 
oldest piece in the Fuller collection; it was 
a collection made by my great or my 
great-great grandfather on my father's side, 
Richard Fuller. It was a little lot kept in a 
microscope box. We used to play with these 
pieces when young. There were a great 
deal more then. They got lost and smaller 
as a result. A wonder any remain. It is 
inscribed by my grandfather, Richard Fuller, 
Jr. of Chichester . . . '0-Tahiti, tapa cloth, 
made of the bark of trees brought to 
England by Captain Cook.' That being so, it 
must have been a gift to one of my relatives, 
great grandfather, etc., or one of my great 
uncles — one was a wealthy old chap, and 
helped to finance Cook, it is not generally 
known. 

It is fitting that, through the generosity 
of Mrs. Fuller, these specimens and 
the tapa cloth volume are together 
again. 



W. Peyton Fawcett is Head Librarian 
at Field Museum. 



Bulletin January 1971 



Space Biology 

and the Murchison Meteorite 



Dr. Edward J. Olsen 



Over the past year Field Museum has 
acquired over 60% of a new meteorite 
which fell on September 28, 1969 near 
the small town of Murchison, Australia, 
about 60 miles north of the city of 
Melbourne. From the very first it was 
clear that Murchison was an 
extraordinary meteorite. Initial research 
work, principally at Field Museum and 
Argonne National Laboratory revealed 
it to be what is called a Type II 
carbonaceous chondrite, of which only 
fourteen exist out of the almost 2000 
known meteorites. These carbonaceous 
meteorites are unique in that they 
contain about 13% water (combined in 
some of the minerals that compose 
them), and 2% to 2.5% carbon, a 
small portion of which is combined in 
a large number of different organic 
compounds. Because of the presence 
of these organic compounds this group 
of meteorites has excited a great deal 
of research activity especially over the 
past 20 years when instrumentation has 
been developed that permits extremely 
sensitive examination of them. 

It has been known for almost a century 
that numerous organic compounds can 
be produced without the intervention of 
any form of living matter. Many of them 
can be fairly easily synthesized in the 
laboratory. For some of them there is 
absolutely no difference between the 
synthesized compounds and the same 
compounds that are made biologically. 
for others, however, there are small. 



but significant differences. The most 
interesting of these is the group of 
compounds called amino acids. Amino 
acids consist of chains of carbon, 
hydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen atoms. 
Different internal arrangements 
constitute the different acids of the 
group. An amino acid chain has an 
interesting property. Because of the 
way carbon atoms link to other atoms 
of carbon, hydrogen, etc., an amino 
acid chain has a twist to it, somewhat 
like a spiral staircase. The spiral can 
twist either clockwise (which is called 
d, for dextral), or counter clockwise 
(which is called /, for levorotatory). 

Which way a given amino acid chain 
twists is immaterial, it takes just as 
much chemical energy to form one way 
as the other. Thus, when a chemist is 
synthesizing some amino acid in the 
laboratory the chances are 50 : 50 that 
any given molecule will form as a 
d-type (or as an l-type). This is exactly 
how it turns out. With a device called 
a polariscope this can be measured 
with great accuracy and, as predicted, 
a laboratory-synthesized amino acid 
shows that half the molecules form one 



way (d), and half form the other way (I). 
When, however, the same amino acid 
is formed by a living organism the 
organism imposes a pattern upon it in 
such a way that all the molecules twist 
in only one way. Most organisms 
produce entirely l-type amino acids, 
though some of them produce d-type 
acids. No organism produces half 
l-type and half d-type. 

In the mid 1950's Dr. Stanley L. Miller 
performed an experiment based on an 
idea conceived by Prof. Harold C. Urey, 
a Nobel Prize laureate in chemistry. 
Both were at the University of Chicago 
at the time. It is known that the earliest 
atmosphere of gases surrounding any 
planet, including the young Earth, 
four-and-one-half-billion years ago, 
consisted of the gases methane, 
ammonia, hydrogen, and water (as 
opposed to our present atmosphere of 

A piece of ttie Murchison meteorite tall. 
This particular piece is about seven inches 
long and shows the black fusion crust 
around the outside. Part of this crust is 
flaked away revealing white mineral 
tragments scattered in a black matrix. The 
matrix contains organic compounds in small 
amounts. Argonne National Laboratory Photo. 




10 



Bulletin January 1971 



mainly nitrogen and oxygen). Urey 
reasoned that simple electrical 
discharge (lightning) in such a primitive 
atmosphere could produce simple 
organic compounds that might be 
progenitor-molecules for living forms. 
Miller set up a chamber that contained 
these gases and w/ired it to produce 
discharges of appropriate energies. 
The analysis of the results proved to 
be vastly better than expected. In 
addition to some simple organic 
compounds, nine different amino acids 
were formed and identified, and 
fourteen others were detected but not 
specifically identified. Because these 
were produced by a strictly physical, 
non-biological process, these acids 
showed the characteristic 50% l-type, 
50% d-type distribution. Thus, it was 
clear that some quite significant organic 
compounds could be formed by a very 
simple process. When several amino 
acids combine they can form 
combinations called proteins. The 
simplest living thing of which we know 
is a type of self-reproducing protein 
molecule called a virus. Thus, amino 
acid formation is only a step away 
from possible simple life forms. 

After this experiment there were 
grounds to carefully examine the 
carbonaceous meteorites. They show 
little sign of having undergone any 
serious change since they were formed 
in the solar system 4.5 billion years 
ago. It is possible they might contain 
remnant amino acids, formed by a 
Urey-Miller process, among the organic 
compounds in them. 

A search of this kind is not easy 
because the chance of contamination 
by terrestrial amino acids is great. 
Amino acids are present on our hands 
and skin, and the air is rich with 
bacteria and viruses that contain them. 
Because of this the first finds of amino 
acids, in the 1950's, proved to be false 
alarms due to contamination. The 
search has gone on intermittently ever 
since among the small number of 
carbonaceaus chondrites, always with 
negative or equivocal results. The 



newest of these, Murchison, has been 
the object of this search since it fell 
late in 1969. 

In early December 1970 national 
attention (Time Magazine, New Yorl< 
Times, National Observer, Chicago 
Tribune, etc.) focused on the findings 
of Dr. Cyril Ponnamperuma, who is a 
researcher at the NASA establishment 
at Moffet Field, California. He reported 
isolating seventeen different amino 
acids in minute amounts from the 
Murchison meteorite. He went on to 
report that these showed just about a 
50:50 split between I- and d-types. 
This means, of course, they are the 
products of a non-biological process — 
a purely physical process. Were these 
due to contamination it would be almost 
impossible to accidentally obtain such 
a 50:50 distribution. Contamination by 
humans, or bacteria, etc., would create 
a huge preponderance of l-type chains. 
This, along with other lines of evidence, 
seems to rule out contamination as a 
factor. 

The consequences are clear. A simple 
process, such as that of the Urey-Miller 
experiment, operating in a primitive 
atmosphere at the very start of the 
solar system is capable of producing 
the basic building blocks of life. How 
long it took for such amino acids to 
link into proteins and more complex 
forms no one yet knows. Perhaps more 
important is the fact that the initial 
step, formation of amino acids, is so 
relatively simple. It is, what is called, 
an event of high probability. This 
means that life may be vastly more 
prevalent in the universe than we ever 
imagined. 



Dr. Edward J. Olsen is Curator ot Mirieralogy 
in Field Museum's Department ot Geology. 



ANNOUNCING A NEW 
SUMMER TOUR 

SCANDINAVIA: 
REFRESHING LANDS OF 
FJORDS & MIDNIGHT SUN 
JUNE 8 - JULY 2, 1971 

Fjords, outdoor museums, gardens, 
wiidflowers. birds, archaeological sites, 
architecture, design. Linnaeus' gardens, 
great cathedrals, historic palaces, 
opera, midnight sun in Lappland, 
reindeer: Bergen, Oslo, Helsinki. Tapiola, 
Lake Inarl, Stockholm, Gotland Island, 
Uppsala, Gothenburg, Kattegat, 
Halsingborg, Norrviken. Sofiero, 
Bosjokloster, Lund. Helsinfors,Copenhagenr 

WRITE: 

FIELD MUSEUM WORLDWIDE 
NATURAL HISTORY TOURS 
ROOSEVELT RD. AT LAKE SHORE DR. 
L CHICAGO, ILLINOIS 60605 




Bulletin January 1971 



11 



"I can think of a lot of easier ways to 
slide through my final years," says 
Field Museum's Curator of Birds, Dr. 
Emmet R. Blake. "But somewhere 
along the line, perhaps while being 
weaned back in South Carolina, I 
became infected with that dread virus 
known as the Protestant Ethic which 
holds that everyone should strive to 
'amount to something' and to justify his 
existence by some work of value to 
posterity." 

The work of value which Dr. Blake is 
preparing for posterity is the Manual of 
Neotropical Birds, a monumental 
^ undertaking which will provide for the 
first time and under one cover, 
taxonomic information, descriptions, 
appropriate keys and the distribution of 
more than 3,200 species and over 
8,500 races or subspecies of Central 
and South American birds. 

The natural culmination of a long 
professional career that has combined 
to an unusual degree both laboratory 
research and field studies, Blake's 
Manual will provide a source book for 
the professional biologist in diverse 
specialties. Perhaps its greatest 
potential applied value is in the field of 
tropical medical research. The virologist 
and parasitologist, especially, will find 
in it a convenient means of identifying 
host species of medical interest. 

"The bird fauna of the Neotropical 
region," says Blake, "far exceeds that 
of any other zoogeographical entity and 



Portrait of 
a Naturalist- 
Explorer 

accounts for more than one-third of the 
world's species. The Manual, in effect, 
will be an elaborated synopsis of this 
avifauna in several volumes." 

Blake began work on the Manual in 
late 1965 under a grant from the 
National Science Foundation. The first 
volume, now near completion, probably 
will be published in 1971. Work on the 
Manual is being continued under a 
recent grant from the Irene Heinz Given 
and John La Porte Given Foundation. 
The final work, consisting of several 
volumes, is scheduled for completion 
in 1984. 

"It's hard to say where it all began," 
says Blake, looking back over what is 
recognized as an outstanding career in 
museum ornithology. "I've always been 
interested in birds and other animals 
and especially enjoy studying them in 
their natural habitats. Even as a young 
boy I knew what I wanted to do and 
prepared myself the best I could in 
every way I knew. But the rest was 
pure luck, the breaks. Somehow I just 
happened to be in the right places at 
the right times more often than not." 

The youngest of a large family of 
modest means in Abbeville, South 
Carolina, Blake's enthusiasm for biology 
has been described by a boyhood 
friend as "a case of the fixed idea." 
Turned journalist, the friend, Preston 
Grady, wrote of Blake in the Greenwood 
Index-Journal of August 16, 1932: 

As a small boy he compiled notes and 
sketches of his observations which he still 
proudly exhibits. He held an intense interest 
in natural history studies and wild life from 
his earliest youth, and spent most of his 
boyhood afield, preferably alone. He usually 
had a menagerie of local wild pets ... At 
15, he entered Presbyterian College, Clinton, 
and during the next four years flunked at 
one time or another most courses given 
there except biology. Biology and kindred 
subjects were so much pie . . . Much of his 
time was spent afield, carrying taxidermy to 
some degree of perfection and becoming 
locally famous as the catcher of snakes 
and birds. 



Joyce ZIbro 

Graduating from Presbyterian College 
at 19, Blake, with $2.65 in his pocket, 
hitchhiked to Pittsburgh, where he 
hoped to get a job and work his way 
through graduate studies in order to 
"muscle into museum work." Having 
won the ROTC light heavyweight boxing 
championship of eight states in college, 
Blake was able to tie down a part-time 
job as boxing and swimming instructor 
for the local YMCA. Concurrently he 
worked in a settlement house. These, 
combined with an eight-hour night job 
pumping gas supported him in graduate 
school at the University of Pittsburgh. 
"It was life with a big 'L'," says Blake, 
"and I had a ball. With all those jobs 
money simply poured in. It totalled 
almost $150. A month, that is," he 
added with a wry smile. 

One of "the breaks" came in 1930 and 
Blake interrupted his studies to assist 
experienced South American explorer 
and professional ornithologist, Ernest 
G. Holt, on a yearlong expedition for 
the National Geographic Society up the 
Amazon and into the unexplored 
jungles and mountains of the Brazil- 
Venezuela boundary. 

Back in the States and nearly penniless 
again, Blake for a time became a 
private detective, pick and shovel 
construction worker and professional 
prize fighter. And back at the University 
of Pittsburgh, at age 22, Blake was 



12 



Bulletin January 1971 



Holding a Two-toed Sloth, Dr. Blake had 
this photo taken in Orinoco Delta, Venezuela 
while on the Mandel- Field Museum 
Venezuela Expedition in 1932. 



promoted to graduate instructor in 
zoology and continued his studies. 

^^- "In December of 1931," recalls Blake, 
"came a call from Field Museum of 
Natural History asking if I would 
accompany and supervise a hiunting 
trip to the Orinoco River and remain in 
Venezuela to do some intensive 
collecting for the Museum." Sailing for 
South America aboard the sponsor's 
yacht, Blake supervised jaguar hunting 
in the Orinoco delta region for several 
weeks before taking on the real work 
of the expedition — alone. Penetrating 
the Venezuelan coastal range from the 
port of Cumana, Blake succeeded in 
reaching the 9,000-foot summit of 
Mount Turumiquire where in a period 
of 35 days, working 18 to 20 hours 
each day, he collected 803 birds, 96 
reptiles and 37 mammals, perhaps a 
record collecting performance for one 
man. The collection included several 
forms new to science, including a 
lizard, Anadia blakei, named for the 
collector. 

In 1932 a headline in Blake's hometown 
newspaper summed up his career thus 
far: "At 23, Emmet Blake of Greenwood 
Is a Veteran Scientific Explorer." 

Having thus prepared himself "as best 
I could in every way I knew," Blake 
was offered and accepted a position as 
Assistant in the Division of Birds at 
Field Museum in July 1935. "I had 
been following the activities of Field 
Museum staff scientists ever since I 
was able to read," says Blake. "It is 
one of the really great natural history 
museums and, in a way, perhaps the 
goal toward which I had been moving 
all my life." 

Blake interrupted his museum career in 
1942 to serve with the U.S. Army 
Counter Intelligence Corps for more 
than three years in North Africa and 
Europe. Returning to the United States 




with the rank of captain and several 
medals, including the Purple Heart, he 
resumed his work at the Museum and 
was promoted to Assistant Curator of 
Birds in 1947. He has served as 
Curator of Birds since 1955. 

Referred to by a colleague as "one of 
the hardiest field men ever," Blake has 
participated in eight tropical expeditions 
to collect specimens and has seen the 
Museunf's collection of birds increase 
from 75,000 in 1935 to well over 
300^000, making the Field Museum 
collection one of the largest and 
certainly among the most important 
research collections in the world. 

"It's hard to select what might have 
been the most exciting expedition I've 
been on," says Blake. "The West 
Indies, Mexico, Guatemala, British 
Honduras, Venezuela, Colombia, the 
Guianas, Brazil, Peru, they were all 
wonderful experiences. If you have to 
pin me down to one trip I guess it 



would be the Sewell Avery Zoological 
Expedition of Field Museum to the 
Acarai Mountains in southern Guyana 
(formerly British Guiana) in 1939. 
Schomburgk, the German naturalist, 
had preceded me by a century but at 
the time of my visit the Brazilian 
frontier of the Guianas was still 
uninhabited, even by Indians, and 
virtually unknown to biologists. I 
remember it as a region of jumbled 
mountains and turbulent streams 
blanketed by a trackless forest; a 'lost 
world' if there ever was one. Access 
to that remote area was possible only 
by canoe or small boat, first by 
ascending the treacherous Courantyne 
River, which forms the boundary 
between Surinam and Guyana, and 
then its tributary, the New River. 

"I arrived at Georgetown, capital of 
Guyana, on August 12 with six hundred 
pounds of carefully selected collecting 
and field equipment," says Blake. "A 
small, chartered hydroplane flew a 
native taxidermist and me into the 
interior. After a flight of several hours 
we were deposited on the Courantyne 
River just above King Frederick William 
IV Falls, and so avoided weeks of 
dangerous river travel. At the falls 
were Richard Baldwin, an experienced 
riverman who was to serve as assistant 
for the expedition, twelve Indian and 
Negro boatmen and the expedition's 
32-foot boat, the Oronoque. It was 
powered by an outboard motor 
supplemented by Indian paddlers, and 
was capable of surviving all but the 
worst rapids. 

"All of our heavier supplies and 
equipment had to be relayed up the 
river, through and often around 
innumerable rapids, to the head of 
navigation on Itabu Creek where a 
base camp was established. Traveling 
light, we then pushed on for days in 
dugout canoes until they, also, had to 
be abandoned. Finally the long, long 



Bulletin January 1971 



13 



This photo of Dr. Blake holding a Margay 
Cat was taken in 1932 at Mt. Turumiquire, 
Venezuela during the Mandel-Field 
Expedition. 



trek overland with heavy packs until we 
reached our objective, the crest of the 
Acarais where Guyana and Brazil meet. 
A crude camp was rapidly thrown up 
and intensive collecting, almost around 
the clock, began some five weeks after 
joining the boat crew. 

"With three collecting guns in use from 
dawn until dark, extensive trap lines 
set for small mammals each night, and 
several men scouring the forests for 
specimens of all kinds, the collections 
grew rapidly. More than 2,000 
specimens of birds, mammals, reptiles 
and fish, not to mention insects, were 
collected in the space of a single 
frantic month. We reluctantly broke 
camp in mid-October and raced for the 
coast. To have remained in the 
mountains longer would have left us 
stranded by the shrinking streams of 
the dry season. 

"Rivers had dropped about fifteen feet 
during our month in the mountains, 
and stretches of water which had been 
relatively placid during our ascent were 
now seething rapids, often with 
whirlpools. Many channels which had 
been difficult before were potential 
death traps that we approached with 
dread. Disaster was an imminent 
possibility as our dugouts were run or 
'streaked' through interminable rapids. 
Any serious accident could be fatal. In 
the Guyana hinterland you can't just 
walk out; you move by boat or not at 
all. We abandoned the dugouts above 
King Frederick William IV Falls and 
thereafter were dependent on the 
Orinoque for the final dash home. 

"After caulking, the Orinoque was 
again launched and we had visions of 
reaching civilization within a week or 
so. But while running rapids only 




hours after pushing off we struck a 
submerged rock and were capsized in 
mid-river. Suddenly it was every man 
for himself. I found myself under the 
overturned boat struggling frantically to 
avoid being enveloped in a tarpaulin 
that had been used to cover the cargo. 
It was a close call, almost as bad as 
that little affair at Anzio Beachhead 
... but that's another story. 

"Well, to make a long story short, all 
of us managed to reach an island in 
mid-river, but without food, equipment, 
or even clothes. A few things were 
salvaged from pot-holes later, 
including some of the specimens. I 
sent some of the men to the Surinam 
shore and they managed to make their 
way back to King Frederick William IV 
Falls, a ten-day trek, to retrieve several 
dugouts that we had abandoned. 
Meanwhile, the rest of us scrounged 
for food, alternately baked under the 
tropical sun or froze at night, slapped 
mosquitos, dried remnants of the 
collection and painstakingly fabricated 
a couple of serviceable canoes from 



the salvaged tarpaulin and the bark of 
a 'purpleheart' tree. 

"With the return of our 'rescuers' from 
up-river we formed quite a flotilla. Its 
arrival at La Tropica, a Surinam police 
outpost and farthest interior point of 
civilization on the Gourentyne, created 
quite a sensation. In fact, it was a 
near disaster. We showed up 
unannounced at about 2 a.m., were 
mistaken for attacking escapees from 
Devil's Island, and were very nearly 
shot before identifications could be 
established. All in all, it was quite an 
experience. Wouldn't care for a repeat 
performance every day before 
breakfast, but in hindsight I wouldn't 
swap the memory for — well, you 
name it." 

Letters written to a museum colleague 
by Blake when on an expedition to 
Peru in 1958 give an insight into some 
of the lighter episodes which make up 
a part of any natural history expedition 
and reveal Blake as a man of wit and 
humor. He gives us this account of 
his reception at Hacienda Villacarmen 
on the banks of the Pena Pefia River 
in Amazonian Peru: 

"This being the height of the dry 
season there were several all-day 
deluges that gave me a 'breather' — 
and also the two-day celebration in 
honor of Saint Garmen, patron Saint of 
the Hacienda. For the Indians it lasted 
56 continuous hours of dancing and 
drinking raw cane alcohol. The rest of 
us — I couldn't avoid becoming 
involved — settled for a single night of 
dancing and weak, but seemingly 



14 



Bulletin January 1971 



In 1958, Dr. Blake was on the Boardman 
Conover- Field Museum Peruvian Expedition. 
This photo was taken in Rio Madre de Dios. 



inexhaustible beer. Our party included 
visitors from neighboring haciendas 
and apparently all leading citizens of a 
nearby village who either owned or 
could borrow shoes. By secretly 
fortifying myself with half a cup of 
cooking oil 'El Doctor Americano' 
responded to each and every 'Salude' 
and lasted the full stretch to 4 a.m. 
My probably elephantine endeavors In 
the realm of the tango, samba and 
mambo were much admired and 
produced roars of 'Ole.' In brief, I 
think I succeeded in maintaining the 
honor of the Museum and integrity of 
the U.S. 

"While at Vlllacarmen," Blake 
continues, "there was one bit of 
excitement that did scare hell out of 
me. An Indian was brought in who 
had been bitten by a snake believed 
to be invariably deadly. He had 
already slashed the wound and was 
wearing a vine ligature. 'El Doctor' 
was hurriedly summoned to take over 
and that poor devil hadn't previously 
taken the trouble even to read the 
complicated directions with his 
anti-venom equipment. I was really on 
the spot, however, and with an 
audience of 20-30, had to go through 
with it. I soon had the victim's leg so 
loaded with suction cups that it looked 
like a lemon tree and was about to 
give him an injection when it dawned 
on me that the leg wasn't even 
beginning to swell. I sent for the 
snake. It was brought in, headless, 
but to me quite obviously only an 
eight foot boa. The women began to 
weep, there was quiet discussion of a 
burial detail — they don't waste time in 
these latitudes — and even the victim 
began to look thoughtful. They still 




insisted it was the deadliest of all 
snakes; the only explanation I have is 
that possibly they had confused it with 
a bushmaster. OK. They had their 
way, but I decided to have myself a 
ball with some pseudo-medical 
mumbo-jumbo and reap the rewards. 
Old Doc Blake swung into action by 
keeping the suction cups going for 
another half hour while he took the 
patient's pulse, listened to his heart, 
dilated his pupils and took his 
temperature every five minutes. This 
last inspiration gave me a wonderful 
opportunity to show varying degrees of 
consternation. Finally, I announced the 
man was going to recover, but must 
have a week's complete bed rest 
wrapped in blankets, five bottles of 
beer every day (dilutes the venom, 
enriches the blood and tones up the 
system), and no sex for a month. I 
don't know about the patient's 
subsequent love life but I do know he 
followed the other directions because I 
visited him every day to check his 
pulse and help him with his beer!" 



In still another letter from Peru, Blake 
tells about his expedition cuisine. "I 
came out (from Manu) in a magnificent 
40-foot cedar dugout as the 'paying 
guest' of a man named Trencoso, an 
older brother of my hunter. The trip 
took six days (Manu to Pilcopata) and 
it rained most of the time. We always 
broke camp early, were on the river by 
5:30 or 6:00 and didn't stop until 
nightfall. Meals were simple: coffee — 
sometimes with cold monkey and rice 
soup for breakfast, crackers — 
sometimes with sardines or smoked 
fish for lunch, and coffee with hot 
monkey and rice soup for supper. The 
soup was very good and usually one 
could chew on the hunk of meat all 
the next day ... As the paying guest 
I rated the best and first of everything. 
My plate was the top of the stew pan 
and I usually got the one spoon for my 
soup instead of the one fork. Palm 
leaves served as plates when the 



Bulletin January 1971 



15 



At Field Museum in 1971 Dr. Blal<e is doing 
research and worl<ing on the Manual of 
Neotropical Birds. 



Utensils were in use otherwise, it's 
remarkable how easily one can accept 
these conditions as the way of life, 
and really enjoy them. Although wet, 
hungry and bug-bitten the whole way 
I had a hell of a good time." 

Again writing from Peru, Blake shares 
some of his leisure-time thoughts with 
his colleague at the Museum. "Almost 
any night while listening to my men 
snoring," says Blake, "I could lie in 
my hammock, close my eyes, and in a 
moment go back 40 years and 3000 
miles to the Greenwood of my youth 
and see once more (for free!) the 
circus parade as it formed in the 
vacant lot next to shanty town beyond 
the Seaboard Airline Tracks. Here it 
comes now, up Maxwell Avenue, past 
the Bijou Theatre and water tank to 
make its turn for the Fair Grounds at 
Ellis's Funeral Parlor. First comes a 
calliope, followed by the elephants . . . 

"But expeditions are only a part, albeit 
an essential and exciting part, of 
museum work," says Blake. "On 
returning from any expedition, 
specimens, often in the thousands, 
must be identified and catalogued, the 
new forms described and named, and 
the entire collection studied critically 
as steps in the preparation of the final 
technical report." Blake sums his 
business up this way: "In this manner, 
little by little, slowly and sometimes 
painfully, we learn more about the 
world around us and the myriad 
creatures that inhabit It." 




Out of Blake's explorations and 
laboratory research have come over 
one hundred articles and books, both 
technical and popular, on birds. His 
best-known book, Birds of Mexico, A 
Guide for Field identification is now in 
its sixth printing and is recognized as 
an authoritative work on the rich and 
varied bird fauna of that country. 
Written primarily for the bird watcher, 
its 650 pages treat all of the 967 
species that have been recorded from 
the Mexican mainland, the adjacent 
waters and associated islands. 



In his personal life Blake, like many 
of his museum colleagues, is still very 
much the outdoorsman and 
naturalist-explorer. Vacations usually 
are spent camping and on wilderness 
canoe trips which over the past twenty 
years his wife and two daughters have 
also shared and enjoyed. Mrs. Blake 
recalls a wonderful honeymoon that 
included a "pack-back" camping trip 
along the Appalachian Trail in the 
Great Smoky Mountains. 

"My ambition now," says Blake, 
ornithologist, explorer, researcher, 
writer, one-time spy-catcher and 
boxer, "is to live long enough to 
become a garrulous old man with 
scads of boring stories. Sometimes I 
suspect that goal might be nearer 
than I realize." 



Joyce Zibro is Editor of the Field Museum 
Bulletin and Public Relations Manager. 



16 



Bulletin January 1971 




The Year of the Whale 

By Victor B. Scheffer. Decorations by 
Leonard Everett Fisher 
New Yorl<, Charles Scribner's Sons 
(01969). $6.95. 

This intriguing volume is the story of 
twelve months in the life of a young sperm 
whale and is, as the author points out, 
"fiction based upon fact." The story of 
"Little Calf" is interspersed with information 
about the study of whales, about whaling, 
past and present, and about conservation 
and other related matters. This information 
is printed in different type from that used 
for the story. The reader follows Little Calf 
month by month from his birth in the 
northeastern Pacific and in the process 
learns much about the life history of the 
whale and about how men feel about whales, 
what they do to whales, and what whales 
do to men. 

The author is an authority on the biology 
of marine mammals and is a biologist with 
the United States Fish and Wildlife Service. 
His book is extremely well written and 
documented and is provided with "a special 
kind of bibliography, confined to some 
classic works in the literature of whales and 
whaling." The volume is attractively 
illustrated and the printing and binding are 
very nicely done. In every way, an 
excellent work. 

The Bog People; Iron-Age Man Precerved 

(By) P. V. Glob. Translated from the Danish 

by Rupert Bruce-Mitford 

Ithaca, Cornell University Press (1969). 

$7.50. 

This fascinating and profusely illustrated 
volume had its beginning in 1950 when two 
men, cutting peat in a Danish bog, came 
upon the body of a man with a noose 
around his neck. Believing him to be a 
recent murder victim they called in the police 
who in turn called in two representatives 
of the local museum. These gentlemen 
consulted the author, an eminent 
archeologist and now Director General of 



Museums and Antiquities in Denmark, who 
established that the body was that of an 
Iron-Age man who had been flung into the 
bog 2,000 years ago and preserved through 
the tanning action of the water. 

In the last 200 years about 700 such bodies 
have been found in bogs all over 
northwestern Europe, most showing signs 
of violent death. Prof. Glob became 
interested in why so many people — men, 
women, and children — had been slain and 
cast in the bog and the present volume is 
the fruit of his researches. 

Drawing on archeological data and classical 
written sources, the author constructs a 
picture of the way of life, culture, and 
religion of these people and concludes that 
the bodies in the bogs were victims of ritual 
murder and sacrifice to Nerthus, the 
goddess of fertility. 

Professor Glob's book is most interesting 
and readable, though some of the 
photographs are not for the tender-minded. 

Seeds of Change; the Green Revolution 
and Development In the 1970'8 

By Lester R. Brown 

Foreword by Eugene R. Black 

New York (etc.). Published for the Overseas 

Development Council by Praeger Publishers 

(1970). $6.95. 

In the late 1950's, Rockefeller Foundation 
scientists in Mexico succeeded in developing 
a new variety of wheat that yielded twice 
as much grain as traditional varieties. 
A few years later a similarly fruitful rice 
was developed in the Philippines. Within less 
than a decade these and other new varieties 
of wheat and rice had been refined so that 
they could be grown successfully in a wide 
range of climatic and soil conditions, 
particularly in the impoverished tropical 
areas of the world. Their success has been 
phenomenal. Between 1965 and 1969, for 
instance, land planted with these seeds In 
Asia expanded from 200 acres to 34 million 
acres, about one-tenth of the region's total 



grain acreage. Cereal production is 
increasing spectacularly in Pakistan, India. 
Ceylon, and the Philippines, and other 
countries are quickly beginning to capitalize 
on the new grains. 

This timely and useful book is designed to 
help us understand the significance to the 
agricultural revolution the development of 
these "miracle" strains has brought about, 
and to bring to our attention its implications 
for the future. The author points out that 
"The breakthrough in cereal production is 
meaningful because it represents at least 
the beginning of a solution to the problem 
of hunger, which until recently was regarded 
as nearly insoluble" but notes that "As the 
new seeds and the associated new 
technologies spread, they introduce wide 
and sweeping changes, creating a wave of 
expectations throughout society and 
placing great pressure on the existing social 
order and political situation." The "second 
generation" problems produced by the new 
technologies present us with a number of 
choices and the wisdom of our choices will 
determine, the author argues, whether the 
revolution will fulfill its promise of ensuring 
a better life for those who inhabit the rural 
areas of poor countries or whether it "will 
aggravate the job shortage and accelerate 
the exodus from the countryside to the 
already overcrowded cities." These choices, 
he feels, are political in nature rattier than 
agricultural or scientific, and consequently 
addresses his book to all those "whose 
opinions and actions may affect future plan? 
and political decisions": concerned laymen, 
academicians, and humanitarians as well. 

The author is a senior fellow with the 
Overseas Development Council and served, 
between 1964 and 1968, as special adviser 
to the Secretary of Agriculture on foreign 
agricultural policy. His book is concise and 
well written. I recommend it highly. 



by IV. Peyton Fawcett, head librarian. 
Field Museum. 



Bulletin January 1971 



if 



LETTERS 



To the editor: 

In your October, 1970 Bulletin, you have 
devoted space to an article on the 
population crisis, by Dr. Paul Ehrlich. 

I would not deny that there may be a 
population crisis in parts of the world, but 
I do question whether there is one in our 
United States. I certainly would not deny 
that there is a pollution crisis. In either 
crisis, population or pollution, I have 
serious doubts if Dr. Ehrlich has the voice to 
be heard. He seems more a propagandist 
than a scientist. Your Bulletin has dropped 
in its glory by your fostering of his thesis; 
that we must change our system of 
government to some form of dictatorship, 
change our free market philosophy to a 
socialist economy, give up our high 
standard of living in favor of something like 
that which existed in the United States 
around 1840. 

Ehrlich did not paint such a picture in so 
many words, but is this not where his 
paradoxical solutions take us? 

The United States now has two hundred 
million people and any of the two hundred 
million who will work can eat better than the 
few thousand Indians who lived in the same 
area in the year 1500. We eat so well, in 
fact, that our Government is paying farmers 
to remove land from production and 
othenwise limiting agricultural production. 

Ehrlich decries the ghetto. Who makes the 
ghetto but the folks who live there? New 
York is a dirty city, but it is New Yorkers 
who make it dirty. Surely if they did not 
choose to live in such filth they'd clean it 
up. It is not the number of people but the 
kind of people living in New York that make 
their city a slum area. To clean it up they 
must change their living habits and not 
necessarily their sex habits. 

In his solutions, Ehrlich turns to 
government and to politics. Where in history 
has government involved itself in a social 
problem where the end result has not been 



more chaotic than was the original problem? To the editor: 



My wife and I are the only inhabitants in an 
area of about 75 square miles. As far as I 
know, the entire area is clean. Each year 
the government licenses certain citizens to 
come into the area to hunt wildlife. Beside 
killing off the wild life, the area looks much 
like a garbage dump after the hunters leave. 
It is not the number of hunters that create 
the filth, but it is the kind of people they are. 

Ehrlich is for a decrease in our population, 
and he is equally against the use of DDT. 
But he's against DDT because it is 
decreasing our population. I do not believe 
I like his system of population control a bit 
better than DDT. In fact, I don't like it at all. 

Let us forget Ehrlich, and take some other 
route. 

Robert B. Ayres 
Sedona, Arizona 

To the editor: 

With its excellent combination of scientific 
and public relations facilities, the Field 
Museum is in a unique position to inform 
the public about the great ecological 
problems facing us — problems more urgent 
than any other, except the threat of nuclear 
war. The article by Paul Ehrlich in the 
October issue of the Bulletin was most 
informative, and at the same time a 
challenge to us all to face up to the difficulty 
of protecting our environment from the 
processes of deterioration which threaten 
to become irreversible. 

I hope there will be many more articles of 
ttiis sort in the future, and that the Museum 
will stage some exhibits which will pass on 
to all visitors to the Museum some of the 
sense of importance of ecological problems 
which was so well communicated by 
Dr. Ehrlich. 

With best wishes for the continued success 
of the Field Museum. 

Alan Garrett 
Winnetka 



Let me express my admiration and 
congratulations on the new Bulletin format. 
Enclosed are a few items I thought might 
properly belong in your magazine. There is, 
after all, a world of humor which is unique 
to the world of natural history. 

James G. Kazanis 
River Forest 




To the editor: 

Congratulations on the Bulletin's changes in 
content and format. There is no reason I 
can think of why a museum publication 
should be either dry or stuffy; and it is a 
pleasure to see that this feeling is shared 
by the editorial and design staffs for the 
Bulletin. In an age where so much is 
communicated, it becomes almost a matter 
of public trust that content be relevant and 
communication be fluent. The fresh 
approach of the Bulletin conveys the feeling 
that the museum knows about this and cares. 

Charles L. Owen 
Associate Professor 
Institute of Design, IIT 



Please address all letters to the editor to 

Bulletin 

Field Museum of Natural History 
Roosevelt Road and Lake Shore Drive 
Chicago, Illinois 60605 

The editors reserve the right to edit 
letters for length. 



18 



Bulletin January 1971 




New Assistant Curator of Insects 

Dr. John Kethley has joined the scientific 
staff of Field Museum as Assistant Curator 
of Insects. Dr. Kethley received his BS 
degree in 1964, and his PhD in Entomology 
in 1969 from the University of Georgia. 
He spent the past year at Ohio State 
University on a post-doctoral fellowship 
from the National Institutes of Health. 




Dr. Kethley is particularly interested in 
mites, especially the classification and 
population dynamics of the family 
Syringophilidae. These are little-know/n mites 
that live only inside the quills of bird 
feathers. He has written several scientific 
papers on this subject and on other 
aspects of biology. 

$500,000 Standard Oil Gift 

Field Museum of Natural History recently 
received a capital contribution of $500,000 
from Standard Oil (Indiana) Foundation. 
Announcement of the gift, which represents 
the largest corporate foundation 
contribution to Field Museum in the 
Museum's 77-year history, was made at a 
recent luncheon at the Museum attended 
by Robert C. Gunness, president of 
Standard Oil (Indiana) Foundation; Blaine 
J. Yarrington, president of American Oil 
Foundation and a trustee of Field Museum; 
John H. Lind, executive director of 
Standard Oil (Indiana) Foundation; 
E. Leiand Webber, director of Field Museum 
and Museum President Remick McDowell. 



In making the presentation, Gunness said, 
"Standard Oil Foundation is pleased to be 
able to support the famed Field Museum. 
People everywhere are reconsidering the 
extent of their dependence on the natural 
world and in the process of seeking a 
broader understanding of man and his 
relation to his environment. The Field 
Museum has a vital role in discovering new 
information essential to that understanding 
through its scientific programs and an 
equally important role in transmitting that 
information to the community through its 
educational programs. We are perhaps 
rediscovering the significance of the Field 
Museum to our community and we look to 
it for continuing leadership as we seek a 
better appreciation of man and his 
environment." 

"The contribution, to become available to 
the Museum over a five-year period," said 
McDowell, "will help the Museum to 
embark upon a long postponed program of 
capital repairs and improvement. During 
the thirty-year period from 1940 through 
1969 some $3,081,000 was expended for 
major repairs," said McDowell. "Of this 
amount, $1,470,000 went for building 
improvement and $1,611,000 for equipment 
and repairs. However, architectural 
estimates show that over twenty million 
dollars could have been effectively spent 
for these purposes if funds had been 
available. In appraising the Museum's 
capital requirements for the next five years 
some $25 million dollars will be needed." 



Blaine J. Yarrington, president of American Oil Foundation and a trustee ot Field Museum 
(left to right), Remick McDowell, Museum president, E. Leiand Webber, director ot the 
Museum, and Robert C. Gunness, president of Standard Oil (Indiana) Foundation, are shown 
at a recent luncheon where a capital contribution of $500,000 was made to the Museum 
from Standard Oil (Indiana) Foundation. The gift is the largest corporate foundation 
contribution to the Museum in its 77 year history. 



Completed in 1920, the present Museum 
building with the terrace and surrounding 
grounds occupies an area of thirteen 
acres, the building itself measuring 706 
feet long and 438 feet wide and 105 feet 
high. The building houses over 10,000,000 
specimens which make up the Museum's 
world famous research collection and 
contains ten acres of space devoted to 
exhibition purposes. 

"Soaring operating costs over the past 
several years," said McDowell, "have 
made it impossible to make any but the 
most minimal of repairs or improvements 
to the physical facilities of the building." 

"We are extremely grateful to Standard Oil 
(Indiana) Foundation for this very important 
gift," said McDowell. "The millions of 
people who will visit the Museum in 
coming years, including the annual 
visitation of approximately 400,000 school 
children in organized study groups, stand 
to benefit from the improved facilities 
which the Foundation's generous 
contribution will help us to provide." 




Bulletin January 1971 



19 




Henry Dybas New Head of Insects 

Henry Stanley Dybas has been appointed 
Head of the Division of Insects in Field 
Museum's Department of Zoology. A native 
Chicagoan, Mr. Dybas joined the Museum 
staff in 1941 as Assistant in the Division of 
Insects. He was named Assistant Curator 
of Insects in 1947 and has served as 
Associate Curator of Insects since 1950. 
A specialist in the systematics of the 
smallest known beetles, the featherwing 
beetles {Ptiliidae), and the population, 
ecology and evolution of the 17-year and 
13-year periodical cicadas, Mr. Dybas has 



Photo by Edumud Jarecki 




Henry S. Dybas 



carried out field work in the United States, 
Mexico, Panama, Colombia and Micronesia 
and authored numerous scientific papers 
and popular articles on insects. 

Speaking of the relevance of studying such 
tiny insects as the featherwing beetle (a 
dozen or so small featherwing beetles 
could be placed on the head of a pin), 
Mr. Dybas said: "They are important in their 
own right because of their activities and 
because of their complex relations with 



other forms of life in our fields and forests. 
And because they are faced with extreme 
problems as a result of their small size, 
their study can provide insights into 
problems of general biological interest." 

In addition to his work at the Museum, 
Mr. Dybas is Research Associate in the 
Department of Biological Sciences at 
Northwestern University and Lecturer in the 
Committee on Evolutionary Biology, 
University of Chicago. He is a member of 
the Entomological Society of America, the 
American Mosquito Control Association, the 
Ecological Society of America, the Society 
for the Study of Evolution and other 
professional organizations. 

Given Foundation Grant 

Field Museum has received a $35,000 grant 
from the Irene Heinz Given and John 
LaPorte Given Foundation, Inc. The grant 
will be used as a subsidy in the completion 
and publication of the Manual of Neotropical 
Birds, which Dr. Emmet R. Blake, curator of 
birds, is currently working on. 

The Manual is a long-range project which 
started through a grant from the National 
Science Foundation in late 1965. The final 
work will consist of several volumes, and is 
scheduled for completion in 1984. A 
residue of National Science Foundation 
funds will see Dr. Blake's work through the 
first volume, exclusive of its publication. 
The Given Foundation grant will ensure the 
continuity of work on the second volume. 



Museum Receives NSF Grant 

The Museum has received a grant in the 
amount of $18,600 from the National 
Science Foundation for continuing research 
entitled, "Herpetology of Seasonal and 
Aseasonal Tropical Forests," under the 
direction of Dr. Robert F. Inger, chairman 
of scientific programs. The grant, which is 
to run until approximately January 31, 1972, 
will permit Dr. Inger to complete research 
underway since July 1968, on the 
organization of animal communities, 
particularly reptiles and amphibians, in 
tropical forests. "The research when 
completed," said Dr. Inger, "will permit us 
to estimate the amount and pattern of 
genetic variation in different kinds of animal 
populations in terms of different types of 
distribution patterns. Our ultimate aim is to 
determine how ecology affects genetics and 
in effect, how the organization of natural 
communities affects evolution. 

The project is being carried out in 
conjunction with Dr. Harold Voris at 
Dickerson College, Carlisle. Pennsylvania. 
Dr. Voris's prime concern will be the 
analysis of blood proteins to determine 
genetic constitution. 

Field work on the project has been carried 
out in Malaya, Borneo, and Thailand. These 
areas in Southeast Asia were selected, said 
Dr. Inger, because they contain an 
abundance of different kinds of environments. 
Dr. Inger will return to Malaya for 
additional field work in July, accompanied 
by Dr. Voris. 



Field Museum's geology preparator John Harris demonstrates the technique of model-making 
to Museum visitors. Shown with him are Hisatoyo Ishida (lett) and Jo Okada (third from left), 
of the Agency for Cultural Affairs, Ministry of Education, Tokyo. At the right is Masataka 
Uehara ol the office ot the Consulate General of Japan in Chicago. They met with various staff 
members to learn about the Museum activities for the purpose of establishing a natural 
history museum in Japan. 




20 



Bulletin January 1971 



CALENDAR 



Hours 

9 a.m. to 4 p.m., Monday-TJiureday 

9 a.m. to 9 p.m., Friday 

9 a.m. to 5 p.m.. Saturday and Sunday 

The Museum Library Is open 

9 a.m. to 4 p.m. 

Monday through Friday 



Throuflh January 15 

Com Blight, an exhibit of current Interest 
The effects of a virulent new strain of 
Southern Com Leaf Blight disease, 
responsible for a predicted 18% decrease 
In the nation's com crop, are shown. 
South Lounge. 

Begins January 16 

CatalogiM of (fM DHtmnnt Spodrnvu ol 
Cfotfi Collected In tha 7hr— Voytgt 
0/ C»pialn Cook, to (f»« Southarn 
Homlaphon, London, Alexander Shaw, 1787, 
on display In the South Ljounge. The rare 
copy consists of actual tapa cloth specimens 
collected during Captain Cook's voyages 
to the South Seas (1768-1780). The volume 
Is the gift of Mrs. A. W. F. Fuller. Through 
March 21. 

"Ufa In Othar Woildar* an exhibit of the 
Murchison meteorite, a Type II carbonaceous 
chondrlte, of which only fourteen exist out 
of the almost 2,000 known meteorites. 
Recently, amino acMs, possibly building 
blocks of irfe, have been reported in this 
meteorite. Through March 21. South Lounge. 

January 17 

Free concart by the Metropolitan Youth 
Symphony Orchestra. 2:30 p.m., James 
Simpson Tftaatre. 

January 31 

Fre« WndlHa Film. "Everglades Safari," 
offered t>y th« Illinois Audubon Society. 
2:30 p.m., James Simpson Theatre. 

Begins February 7 

26lh Chicago Intamanonal ExMMtloii of 
Naiura Photography featuring award-wlnnUfg 
photographic prints, sponsored by tfie 
Nature Camera Club of Chicago and 
Field Museum. South Lounge. Through 
February 28. 

February 7 

A showing o( priza-winnlng transparandaa 

from the 26th Chicago International 
Exhibition of Nature Photography, 2:30 p.m.. 
James Simpson Theatre. 



Through February 7 

A ChlM Go«a Forth, an exhibit of toys and 
games, looks t>eyond the superficial nature 
of playthings and into the influence thay 
may have upon a child's cultural 
development Hall 9. 

Continuing 

"Exploring Indian Country," Winter 
Journey for Children. The self-guided tour 
enables youngsters to see American Indians 
of three environments as the early explorers 
saw them. All boys and girts who can read 
and write may participate in the free 
program. Journey sheets are available at 
Museum entrances. Through February 28. 



John Jamas Audubon'a elephant folk), 
"The Birds of Amertca." on display In ttia 
North Lounge. A different plate from tha 
rare, first-edition set Is featured each day. 

7Sth Araihreraary Exhibit: A Sense d 
Wonder, A Sense of History, A Sense of 
Discovery, continues indefinitely. Exciting 
display techniques offer a new experlertca to 
museum-goers. Hall 3. 

Maatlnga 

January 12, 7:45 p.m.. Nature Camera Club 

of Chicago 

January 12, 8 p.m., Chlcagoland Glkter 

Council 

January 13, 7 p.m., Chicago Ornithological 

Society 

January 13, 7:30 p.m.. Windy City Grotto — 

National Speleological Society 

January 14, 8 p.m., Chicago Mountaineering 

Club 

January 19, 7:30 p.m., Chicago Area 

Camera Clubs Association 

February 9, 7:45 p.m.. Nature Camera Club 
of Chicago 

February 9, 8 p.m., Chlcagoland Glider 
Council 

February 10, 7 p.m., Chicago Omithotoglcai 
Society 

February 10, 7:30 p.m., Windy City Grotto- 
National Speleological Society 




Field Museum's 
Worldwide Natural 
History Tours 

Gardens 

Wild flowers 

Birds 

Archaeology 

Congenial travel companions 

Interpretalions by experts 

The unhurried approach 

Travel w^ith all dimensions 



THE INCAS EMPIRE 

& DARWIN S GALAPAGOS 



February n-March 5. 
S2,807 includes S600 



i22 days o! Andes, S2.457; 1 1 days ol 
Galaragos cruise ?. Ouilo, $1,190 — 

seB.i:.-::ol.) ^. ' .. - -• . ,,^g^ 

n Faz, Q',, chu, 

Ct ^n Ch.in  , :irquilla, 

O'linj.ayt.irnbo. Cuzto, LaKe Trlicaca, 
Tia'-.uanaco Spanish Colonial art & 
arcbiteclure in Colombia. Peru. Bolivia 
and Ecuador. 

TOUR ARCHAEOLOGIST: Dr. Carlos R. 
Margain. prominent Mexican archaeologis! 
and ollicer ol Mexico's Museo Naciohal 
do Aniropologia. specialist in Mexican 
and Andean archaeology 

; NATURALIST with 
uf and -n Tcur-cJor. I 



l^A^^^R ON ALL TOURS. PHIL CLAR 
' ildilor ol Horlicullure magazine 
' -^r Garden Editor of The News, 
Mexico: author, "A Guide to Mexican 
Flora": Field Museum Natural History 
Tours rt-.^i 

AM aondi.uM^, iu riL'i^i Viuiieurn aro 
tax deductible. 

Rates are from Chicago: may be ad 
Irom olt.er points. 

Write: Field Museum 
Worldwide Natural History Tours 
Roosevelt Rd. at Lake Shore Dr. 
Chicago, IM. 60605 



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BULLETIN 

Volume 42, Number 2 
February 1971 




2 Canning a Legend 

Patricia M. Williams 

a warning that man — for the second and last time — is extirpating 

the wild horse from North America 

6 Algae Are Man's Best Friends 

Dr. Matthew H. Nitecki 

the importance of algae for life on earth 

10 Scandinavia: Lands of Fjords and the IMidnight Sun 

Phil Clark 

there's something of interest in Scandinavia for every natural 

history traveler 

13 Bool( Reviews 

1 4 Letters 

15 Field Briefs 
Calendar 



Cover: Two red marine algae from the 
Monterey Peninsula, California. The lacy 
Microcladia coulteri is growing on Gigartina 
harveyana. Illustration by Richard Roesener. 



Field Museum of Natural History 
Director, E. Leiand Webber 

Editor Joyce Zibro; Associate Editor Elizabeth Munger; Staff Writer Madge Jacobs; Production Russ Becker; Photography John Bayalis, 
Fred Huysmans. 

The Bulletin is published monthly by Field Museum of Natural History, Roosevelt Road at Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, Illinois 60605. Subscrip- 
tions: $9 a year; $3 a year for schools. Members of the Museum subscribe through Museum membership. Opinions expressed by authors 
are their own and do not necessarily reflect the policy of Field Museum. Unsolicited manuscripts are welcome. Printed by Field Museum 
Press. Application to mail at second-class postages rates is pending at Chicago, Illinois. Postmaster: Please send form 3579 to Field Museum 
of Natural History, Roosevelt Road at Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, Illinois 60605. 



Bulletin February 1971 



1 



v- 






Canning a legend 



Patricia M. Williams 



An American World War II song 
confidently proclaimed "We did it 
before and we can do it again!" With 
dubious distinction, man can now sing 
the same song about the elimination of 
the wild horse from North America. 

Some 50 million years ago in what is 
now the western United States the tiny, 
four-toed Eohippus was busily 
beginning that process of evolution 
that resulted in today's large, single-toed 
horse, Equus caballus. Abundant fossil 
remains of the horse have been 
unearthed from several areas in the 
west, especially in Texas and Wyoming. 

Ten thousand years ago Pleistocene 
man entered and crossed North 
America. Two thousand years later the 
horse was extinct on this continent. 
The theory most widely supported by 
the scientific community contends that 
man in his search for food killed off the 
horse. Others suggest that man in 
combination with a virulent epidemic 
did the job. Whatever the cause, there 
were no horses on the North 
American continent when Columbus 
arrived in 1492. 

The horse was brought back to 
continental North America in 1519 by 
the Spanish conquistador, Hernando 
Cort6s. Cortes departed leaving behind 
only one colt. Next, according to 
legend, DeSoto's men set free "six 
great horses of Spain" and these 
horses are said to have sired the great 
wild race that replaced their kin which 
were lost to America thousands of 
years earlier. In his poem "The Distant 
Runners" Mark Van Doren celebrates 
this event with the lines, "Four and 
twenty Spanish hooves/Fling off their 
iron and cut the green, /Leaving circles 
new and clean/While overhead the 
wing-tips whirred." 

At about this time Coronado and his 
men were also riding horseback across 
the continent. The conquistadors 
treated the Plains Indians cruelly and, 
in return, the Indians often stole the 
explorers' horses. Early settlers and 



traders in the Santa Fe area brought 
more horses which, in turn, were stolen 
or escaped. It may be romantic to 
believe that our bands of wild horses 
derived from those of DeSoto, 
Coronado and other explorers. In fact, 
they did not. As George Gaylord 
Simpson states in his book Horses, 
"The feral herds — the 'wild horses' of 
western history — arose from horses that 
escaped from the missions, ranches 
and Indians, and not from those ridden 
by the explorers." 

Clearly then, our American wild horse 
is not technically a wild animal. A truly 
wild animal is one whose ancestors 
have always been wild. As our "wild" 
horses are all derived from imported 
domesticated stock, they are properly 
called feral horses, but through 
common use "wild" has become 
accepted. 

fvlost of the early wild horses were 
descendants of an old Andalusian 
breed. These Andalusian horses, 
according to Simpson, "were jennets 
or jinetas, descended in part from 
older, even prehistoric Spanish races 
but with a predominant Barb element 
brought in by the Arab conquerers from 
North Africa.' 

The classic Andalusian was rather 
small, generally built close to the 
ground with a wide chest, a muscular 
rather short neck, and a low-set tail. 
It displayed the whole range of equine 
colors, including spotting. 

After years of fending for themselves, 
the modern offspring of the proud 
Andalusian retain the almost incredible 
stamina and endurance of that breed 
but have lost many of the physical 
characteristics. They are still generally 
small, but too often border on the 
runty. Their scant and limited diet of 
grasses has contributed to their small 
stature and sometimes scrawny 
appearance of today's wild horse. 
Cross-breeding, whether uncontrolled 
or through attempts to improve the wild 
horse, has resulted in the disappearance 



ot the classic form of the Spanish 
horse. Nevertheless, the wild horse still 
retains the wide assortment of colors 
while the spotted or patterned form was 
particularly cherished by some Indian 
tribes. 

The mustangs or mestenos were 
originally the horses of the wild herds 
that belonged to no one. Eventually, 
the term mustang included the 
cowponies taken from these herds. 
Indian ponies usually contained much 
mustang blood and a little of any and 
every other kind of horse as well. 
Today's cowponies have been 
extensively crossed with other breeds 
and the original mustang is all but 
gone here in America. 

But in 1680 large bands of mustangs 
were racing across the plains. By 1900 
their numbers had swelled to an 
estimated two million horses, ranging 
throughout the grasslands from west of 
the Mississippi to the Rockies, past 
the Continental Divide and through the 
deserts to the Pacific Coast. Today, 
following years ot merciless depredation, 
there are fewer than 17,000 "wild" 
horses on public lands in the United 
States. If these horses were simply 
being eliminated by the forces of 
nature, man's responsibility would be 
less grave. Over the years, however, 
the white man has had a variety of 
reasons for eliminating herds of wild 
horses. Little-known casualties of World 
War I, thousands of horses were sold 
to the allies to aid in the war effort. To 
break the Indian's will, their precious 
herds of horses were decimated. 
Cattlemen, anxious to preserve the 
grazing land for their own livestock, 
actively persecuted the wild horses. 
Hope Ryden, in her book America's 
Last Wild Horses, writes that between 
1900 and 1926 the wild horse 
population on public lands declined 
from two million to one million. 

Today wild horses are being 
slaughtered for dog food. Not only 
swaybacked nags, weary after years of 
pulling a plow or wagon, but young. 



Bulletin February 1971 



3 



strong, free horses are being hounded 
to exhaustion by siren-howling planes. 
Low-flying horse-hunters dive over the 
panic-stricken herd blasting it with 
buckshot to keep it moving in the 
desired direction. Some horses drop 
dead from exhaustion, their lungs 
bursting from the strain, but others are 
driven madly on into the corral where, 
filled with fear, they often fight, pile up 
and trample each other to death. 

Those who survive the hideous chase 
are packed into trucks for cross-country 
shipment to the meat cannery. In her 
book, Hope Ryden states: 

Once the truck was loaded, ttie door was 
not opened again during the long haul to 
the packing plant and the horses were 
neither watered nor offered food. A 
transportation regulation known as 
"killer-rate" exempts truckers carrying 
livestock to market from a law which 
requires that in transit animals must be fed 
and watered at regular intervals. It is 
argued that animals en route to a packing 
plant are condemned cargo anyway, and 
the transporter need not spend time and 
money maintaining their physical well-being. 
Yet, though "killer-rate" unfortunately 
applies to all livestock, domestic animals 
do not suffer the kind of maltreatment 
inflicted on the wild horse during its ride 
to slaughter. 

The truck leaves in its wake unweaned 
colts doomed to starvation, stallions 
blinded with buckshot, and wretched 
animals whose hoofs were worn down 
to bloody stumps during the deadly 
race. And this just to fill Rover's dinner 
bowl. 

This dog-eat-horse policy is not without 
its supporters, obviously. Although not 
all agree with the methods by which 
the horses are exterminated, many 
people feel that if economic gain 
cannot be derived from them, then the 
horses have no right to exist. Mr. 
Chester (Chug) Utter, an airplane pilot 
and mustanger, claims to have captured 
40,000 horses over 14 years for the 
Bureau of Land Management, which 
sold the animals at auction. Mr. Utter 
advocates wild horse preserves 



established on government land and 
says, "You need every spear of grass 
for deer, antelope and cattle. I don't 
have any ax to grind either way. But I'd 
much rather have wild game than a 
bunch of horses you can't do nothing 
with" {New York Times, Nov. 15, 1970, 
p. 62. "A Devoted Few Strive to Save 
Wild Horses"). 

Even Dr. C. Wayne Cook, head of 
Range Science Department of 
Colorado State University and chairman, 
Advisory Committee to the Department 
of the Interior on the Wild Horse Range 
in the Pryor Mountains, cautions that 
there should be some control over the 
numbers of wild horses lest they 
multiply too quickly and become too 
competitive for grazing lands. But Dr. 
Cook appreciates the emotional and 
historical factors too, in the movement 
to preserve the wild horses. 

Historically, the wild horse played a 
major role in the development of the 
west and was a positive aid to 
expeditions such as that of Lewis and 
Clark. It helped the early trappers, 
pioneers, ranchers and the fledgling 
cattle industry. The wild horse was an 
integral part of the culture of American 
Indians and was incorporated into their 
myths and ceremonies. 

The unquestionable emotional appeal 
of the wild horse was perfectly 
expressed by Matt Field's description 
of one he encountered along the Santa 
Fe trail in 1839, as related in America's 
Last Wild Horses (pp. 125-128): 

" 'Twas a beautiful animal ... a sorrel, 
with a jet black mane and tail. We could 
see the muscles quiver in his glossy limbs 
as he moved; and when half playfully and 
half in fright, he tossed his flowing mane 
in the air, and flourished his long silky 
tail, our admiration knew no bounds and 
we longed . . . hopelessly, vexatiously 
longed to possess him. 

Of all the brute creation the horse is the 
most admired by men. Combining beauty 
with usefulness, all countries and all ages 
yield it their admiration. But, though the 



finest specimen of its kind, a domestic 
horse will ever lack that magic and 
indescribable charm that beams like a halo 
around the simple name of freedom. The 
wild horse roving the prairie wilderness 
knows no master . . . has never felt the 
whip . . . never clasped in its teeth the bit 
to curb its native freedom, but gambols, 
unmolested over its grassy home where 
Nature has given it a bountiful supply of 
provender . . . We might have shot him 
from where we stood, but had we been 
starving, we would scarcely have done it. 
He was free, and we loved him for the very 
possession of that liberty we longed to take 
from him ... but we could not kill him." 

Philip Hershkovitz, research curator 
of mammals in Field Museum's 
Department of Zoology, believes that 
"few things in man's world equal the 
beauty of a racing herd of wild 
horses." As a taxonomist, he also 
points out that, "By destroying the 
horse we will have extirpated from the 
American continent an entire family of 
its wild fauna — for the second and last 
time." Hershkovitz went on to observe 
that while many dog lovers may 
protest cruelty to animals they 
unwittingly condone it by purchase of 
the product of a base and ruthless 
policy of extermination. 

For whatever reason, emotional, 
historical, or scientific, many are 
joining the growing movement to protect 
the last of the once numerous bands of 
wild horses. Mrs. Velma (Wild Horse 
Annie) Johnston, president. International 
Society for the Protection of Mustangs 
and Burros, is one of the prime forces 
in this movement and it was largely 
through her efforts that "The Wild 
Horse Annie Bill" (Public Law 86-234) 
was passed in September 1959. This 
bill prohibits the pursuit of unbranded 
horses or burros by aircraft on public 
domain. Like so many of the laws and 
regulations affecting the wild horse, 
this one, too, has a loophole. According 
to Mrs. Johnston, hunters get around 
this law by putting a branded mare 
into the wild horse herd and then 
gather up the whole group a year 
later. Obviously, then, further legislation 
is needed. 



Bulletin February 1971 



A bill introduced by U.S. Senator 
Hansen of Wyoming would have given 
the Department of the Interior custody 
over the wild horses. Although the bill 
died in committee last year, Mrs. 
Johnston and her associates still hope 
to secure federal protection for the 
wild horse and get another bill 
introduced this year. 

There are now two wild horse preserves 
on federal land controlled by the 
Bureau of Land Management. One, in 
the Pryor Mountains of Wyoming, was 
the result of the efforts of a group of 
concerned citizens dedicated to saving 
a herd of 200 wild horses. The other 
federal preserve is less than ideally 
situated on the Nellis Air Force 
bombing and gunnery range and the 
Nevada test site of the Atomic Energy 
Commission. 








Twenty years ago, Simpson noted that 
herds of wild horses were relentlessly 
hunted and diminished. He commented 
on the loss of the historic mustang 
and noted that in the Argentine a 
breeding stock of ponies similar to our 
mustangs had been gathered from 
remote parts of the country and 
preserved in "an admirable, increasingly 
valued registered breed, the Criollo." 
His point was, of course, that a similar 
project could be undertaken here. 

Although they do not all agree on 
goals, there are groups here in the 
United States interested in the wild 
horses, such as the American Mustang 
Association, the National Mustang 
Association and the Spanish Mustang 
Registry. The first seeks to improve the 
wild horse by breeding for purposes of 
competition and marketing; the second 
is concerned with the sport of 
"mustanging" — running and capturing 
wild horses for personal and recreational 
purposes, as well as educating the 
public on the conservation needs of 
the wild horse. The third group, the 
Spanish Mustang Registry, is out for 
blood — pure Spanish blood. 

Fifty years ago Robert and Ferdinand 





Photos from Hope Ryden's America's Last WUd Horses. 

Brislawn began to search the wild 
bands for pure-blooded Spanish horses 
to form the foundation of what would 
become the Spanish Mustang Registry. 
The non-profit association was formally 
established in 1958 to perpetuate the 
mustang and establish a permanent 
reserve for the animals. Eighty-year-old 
Robert "Wyoming Kid" Brislawn 
explains, "We are trying to restore a 
breed, not create one." For this reason, 
the Spanish Mustang Registry cannot 
be looked to as the salvation of all 
wild horses. In the past 50 years only 
about 200 horses have qualified for the 
registry and today few roam the 3,000 
acre Brislawn Ranch. 

As bills are discussed by committees, 
the grim hunt for dog food relentlessly 
goes on. Thousands of years ago, 
driven by hunger, primitive man used 



his simple tools to kill the wild horses. 
Today, sated with an abundance of 
artificially sweetened, seasoned, colored 
and preserved foods, we use our 
sophisticated, motorized skills to kill 
the legendary wild horse for dog food. 

BIBLIOGRAPHY 

Ripley, Anthony. "A Devoted Few Strive to 
Save Wild Horses." The New York Times, 
November 15, 1970 (p. 1). 

Ryden, Hope. America's Last Wild Horses. 
New York: E. P. Dutton, 1970. 

Simpson, George Gaylord. Horses. New 
York: Oxford University Press, 1951. 



Patricia M. Williams is Managing Editor 
of Scientific Publications at Field Museum. 



Bulletin February 1971 



Algae Are Man's Best Friends 



Dr. Matthew H. Nitecki 




Acetabularia crenulata. One of the most 
beautiful algae, often referred to as 
mermaid's wineglass or mermaid's parasol. 
The disc at the top of the plant indeed 
looks like a shallow cup or inverted 
parasol. Because it grows easily in captivity, 
it is a much-studied alga. The recent 
studies are particularly concerned with the 
role and function and interrelation of cell 
.nucleus and the protoplasm. 

Illustrations by Richard Roesener 



If an extraterrestrial giant could come 
to the earth and stand over the greater 
Chicago area, he would notice many 
unusual things. When the sun first falls 
upon the earth the biomass begins 
flowing towards the center of the 
megalopolis, and when the sun goes 
down the same biomass leaves the 
city to disperse itself into the periphery. 
The giant would postulate his first law — 
that the solar energy controls the 
movements of the biomass. If he could 
pick up a car in his colossal fingers 
the occupant would either jump out, try 
to hide, scream, panic, freeze, or 
simply die of fright. If, nevertheless, 
the giant would succeed in holding up 
the driver, he no doubt would squeeze 
all life out of the poor man and he 
would postulate his second law — that 
life is a fragile thing and very difficult 
to study. He may further add that life 
manifests unpredictable behavior and 
movements. The giant, while examining 
and testing the physical environment, 
would formulate his third law — that the 
biomass releases great wastes into 
the atmosphere and into the water in 
the complicated process of manufacture 



of seemingly strange objects, and in 
production of heat and locomotion. 

If our giant strides away In his 
seven-league boots to follow the sun 
west, he may step over some forest 
and wonder over its tranquillity and the 
purity of the air above it. He will notice 
that oxygen is produced by plants 
during the day and little waste is 
manufactured. He may pick up the tree 
from its bed and meditate over it 
under the scrutiny of his instruments. 
He will neither be shot at, nor 
screamed at, and he will, therefore, 
modify his second law by adding that 
plants are more stable and less 
neurotic than animals. When examining 
the air around him, and measuring the 
production of sugar and carbohydrates, 
he will postulate a fourth law — that 
plants provide all the food and all the 
oxygen, and that animals simply eat 
and burn it. He may consider animals 



Bulletin February 1971 



degenerate organisms unable to 
produce their own foodstuffs and 
dependent upon plants to do it for 
them. He may even think of man as a 
capricious parasite of the earth. He will 
see plants as benefactors that alter the 
simple Inert matter into the complexity 
and dynamism of life. Our other-world 
giant may go further to the great 
ocean where he will find out that most 
of this activity of food and oxygen 
production and cleaning the air of 
carbon dioxide is conducted in the sea 
by "simple" organisms called algae. 
And so he will put forward his fifth law 
— that algae, indeed, produce most that 
is needed for life on the earth. 

Our giant will marvel at the efficiency 
of algae and will discover that the 
well-known photosynthetic equation 



light 



-> CH,0 + O, 



CO2 + H,0 

green plants 

means that one molecule of carbon 

dioxide combines with one molecule of 

water in the presence of light within 

the pigment of green plants to produce 

carbohydrates and oxygen. In a more 

sophisticated way he can say that in 

the process of photosynthesis the 

atoms of hydrogen from water are 

used to transfer carbon dioxide into 

carbohydrates and at the same time 

the free oxygen from the dissociated 

water is released. Our Gargantuan, just 

like Professor Eugene I. Rabinowitch of 

the University of Illinois, will calculate 

that each year plants of the earth 

combine about 150 billion tons of 

carbon with 25 billion tons of hydrogen, 

and set free 400 billion tons of oxygen! 

Throughout the last three bdlion years, 

plants have been continuously dying 

and organic matter has been 

continuously decomposing. The only 



process known that steadily reverses 
the results of decomposition and 
provides for the continuity of life on 
earth is photosynthesis. In the process 
of photosynthesis, plants harness solar 
energy and produce organic matter 
which, after being used by animals. Is 
dissipated and is mostly lost as heat 
into the interplanetary space. Our 




Cyclocrinites dactioloides. This marine 
calcareous green alga of Silurian age was 
for a long time considered a problematic 
sponge. Its fossil remains are commonly 
found among 450-million-year-old 
coral reefs in Illinois and Iowa. 



colossus will be astonished to realize 
that when photosynthesis ceases, life 
stops and the atmosphere will lose all 
its free oxygen. 

In the past there has been a vigorous 
discussion in scientific literature of 
what constitutes the plant kingdom and 
of what constitutes the animal kingdom. 
The differences between these two 
groups disappear when "lower" forms 



of life are examined. While our Titan 
can tell the difference between a dog 
and a rosebush, the placement of 
certain microscopic flagellate 
organisms within a kingdom will be 
more difficult for him. In order to 
resolve this problem of placing 
plant-animal-like creatures in 
classificatory schemes that would 
indicate their relationship he would 
expand the two kingdoms into three. 
In time, this system too would 
become inadequate, and soon four 
and even five kingdoms would 
have to be recognized. The five 
kingdoms concept of organisms has 
been suggested by Professor R. H. 
Whittaker of Cornell University to 
consist of Monera (for example, 
blue-green algae and bacteria). 
Protista, (unicellular forms such as 
euglenoids, golden algae and 
protozoans), Plantae ("conventional" 
plants such as red and green algae 
and vascular plants). Fungi (absorptive 
organisms such as fungi and slime 
molds), and Animalia (the animals). 

The system of five kingdoms of living 
things appears to be gaining some 
acceptance and seems to serve best 
our present knowledge of the living 
world. Within our five kingdom 
classification algae are assigned to 
three of these kingdoms: Monera, 
Protista and Plantae. The word alga 
is subject to change as our 
understanding of the interrelationship 
between various groups of algae 
changes. It is now believed that the 
algae represent a great variety of 
organisms of diversified evolutionary 



Bulletin February 1971 



origin and not of a single common 
lineage. Algologists use the word alga 
to indicate several groups of 
organisms having similar reproductive 
mechanisms. 

The problem or problems of 
classification of algae are very 
technical, particularly since algae 
constitute a loosely-knit group. The 
main characters used in their 
classification are biochemical: algae 
are separated on the basis of their 
pigments, the nature of their cell v\/all, 
the products of their photosynthesis, 
and the nature of their flagella. 

Algae lack true leaves, stems, or roots, 
and for this reason have been 
considered "primitive." This concept 
is, however, now losing support. Algae 
represent a great diversity of forms. 
Some are microscopic; others, as 
Pacific kelp, may reach a length of 150 
feet. Reports of kelp 600 feet long 
from Brazil need confirmation. Certain 
algae are single cells that may be 
filamentous or branching. There are 
those that are membranous, or some 
may even be tubular. Although some 
species are terrestrial, most are aquatic 
and are found in all waters, seas, 
lakes, streams and ponds. They can 
float as plankton or they can exist 
attached to substrate or to other plants 
or animals. Some algae inhabit the 
soil, others live on bark of trees or 
even on rocks, and recently algae have 
been collected from the atmospheric 
currents. There are even those that 
thrive on snow or within other 
organisms, or as lichens, the composite 
organisms consisting of fungi living 
together with algae. Even two species 




Halicoryne wrightii, "sea-club alga." A 
marine green alga from Dutch East Indies 
and from the Philippines. The genus is 
known throughout the warm, tropical seas 
and four species are found in the 
Caribbean. The body of the plant is 
covered with a thin layer of carbonates. 



of sloths in Central America may be 
distinguished by the different species 
of algae that grow on their hair. 

Algae that precipitate calcium and 
carbonate ions from the sea water 
build hard, limy coverings. These algae 
are extremely important as rock-building 
organisms and are responsible for the 
formations of many limestones 
throughout geologic history, especially 
reef deposits. In addition to forming 
their own masses they also act as the 
cement that binds together the 
skeletons of invertebrate animals. It is 
no surprise, therefore, that these plants 
have left an extensive fossil record 



and are extensively studied by 
paleontologists. 

Algae as a group provide the earliest 
evidence of life on earth, and are the 
most ancient group of living things 
known. The oldest algae-like fossils 
are about three billion years old! Since 
they represent the first documented 
life on earth they are from the 
evolutionary viewpoint extremely 
important. 

If only our giant could search the 
outcrops of rocks and find the places 
where remnants of past life are 
preserved, then he would rejoice in the 
discovery of the past history of our 
planet and the life which existed on it. 
But, by a singular paradox, the 
processes which gave us the lands 
also turned the sediments into rocks, 
changed their composition and made 
them into marbles and schist, hiding 
the records from the seeker, and 
altering the organic remains into their 
byproducts. Thus, all but scanty 
evidence was destroyed. 

And yet, when we look, when we 
carefully comb the rocks, we find 
shapes that are varied, some 
recognizable, some with strange forms 
that do not exist any more. Some of 
these finds are fossils of a common 
nature, abundant, obtainable by the 
"bushel," others are rare. Some are so 
delicate that they require special 
treatment; some are so preserved that 
they need the strength of machines 
and endless hours to prepare for 



Bulletin February 1971 



study. Among many fossils some 
become more important — because they 
explain more, they possess some 
characteristics absent in other 
specimens— and hence instantly 
become more interesting and 
meaningful. The fossil, in brief, reflects 
the image of life as it once was. 

Algae in the 19th century, and among 
many persons even today, have been 
considered less vital than most other 
plants and animals, and are usually 
deprecated as seaweed, pond scum, 
and kelp. But algae as a group are 
important, as we have seen, not only 
because they represent the first 
documented life on earth but also 
because they produce most of the 
food and oxygen necessary for life on 
earth. In addition, algae are becoming 
economically important and great 
quantities of them are used for human 
consumption particularly in Japan. 
They may possibly become a future 
source of food for the ever-growing 
and hungry human population. They 
are already used as a source of 




f^h'.i I \ ,. i i 




^^^^ 



Neomeris van-bosseae. When examined in 
the Museum dry collection, this alga 
does not look like a plant at all because 
its attractive white outer calcareous cortex 
resembles an animal's exterior skeleton. 
Under this hard covering are whorls of 
white branches that expand at their ends. 



potassium and iodine, and for treatment 
of sewage in certain localities. 

On his long way home, our 
extraterrestrial visitor will hold in his 
possession a few vials of small, barely 
green, calcareous, tubular, whorled 
algae from the tropical seas of the 
earth. And he'll wonder over these 
strange benefactors of apparent 
simplicity and beauty that together with 
untold numbers of other algae since 
time immemorial have endlessly and 
continuously provided the source of 
food and oxygen to the inhabitants of 
the earth. 



He will learn now that nature manifests 
beauty of the highest degree in a 
multitude of forms — beauty of structure 
and shape. And he'll pause over this 
for awhile. Life is a short business 
when dealing with an individual 
organism. It is somewhat longer when 
dealing with taxonomic units like 
species and genera. Man has existed 
for time long enough to have a 
geologic past — but yet, life is still a 
very fragile thing. Life is difficult to 
study, because the process of study 
itself may modify or kill the organism. 
But life on the geological scale is 
different; the organisms are gone, but 
hard skeletal parts remain. Sometimes 
unaltered, but in most cases replaced, 
recrystalized — but yet often retaining 
most of the original details, even the 
color pattern may be preserved. How 
many of us have stopped to think that 
we are dealing with life when studying 
fossils? Here the wonder is that we 
have in front of us the record of life, 
represented by fragments, from which 
we choose to reconstruct the whole of 
the evolutionary path of organic 
history. The past is nebulous and we 
are penetrating it. What else can give 
greater joy than to unveil the unkown? 



Dr. Matthew H. Nitecki is Associate 
Curator of Fossil Invertebrates in Field 
Museum's Department ot Geology. 



Calathella anstedi. A half-billion-year-old 
(Lower Ordovician) green calcareous alga 
from Newfoundland. This fossil is one of the 
oldest "higher" forms of algae found. 
Its outer structure is very complicated and 
advanced, and the alga can be easily placed 
in a class of well-known living green algae. 



Bulletin February 1971 



SCANDINAVIA: 

lands of fjords and the midnight sun 



Phil Clark 



Most persons, in quest of natural 
history novelty and nuance, think of 
exotic lands in southern hemispheres, 
with their gaudy flowering trees and 
brightly plumed birds. 

But I found a refreshing view of flora, 
and fauna, and peoples during 
a month's visit to Scandinavia, where 
I programmed a natural history tour for 
next June. It sharpened my joy in our 
own northern American flora and 
avifauna; there was so much subtle 
contrast in the two basically similar 
ecological systems. 

Other sharper contrasts were stimulating 
too. The great Scandinavian spruce-pine 
forests and the birch-beech-poplar 
woodlands still stand, even though they 
have been a judiciously used source 
of wealth for generations. Rivers are 
relatively unpolluted and buildings, 
from medieval to Victorian, stand well 
kept in mellow, unsooted harmony with 
handsomely modern architecture on 
clean city streets. 

The most exciting fjord I saw was the 
greatest of them all: Norway's 
Sognefjord. At first the scenery was 
similar to that from Stavanger to Bergen 



Thirteenth century Norwegian stave church 
in Oslo's Folkmuseum. 




— little rocky islets from which clouds 
of Lesser Black Back, Herring and 
Black Headed Gulls rose to meet us 
over dark seas. Liver-colored Calluna 
heather hugged the wet, black rocks. 
And at one islet I glimpsed a pair of 
Golden-eyed Ducks, spending the 
summer, plump and happy. 

As our ship neared the Sognefjord 
straits, the islands grew larger and 
finally we steamed through a great 
rocky gateway, its sides fleshed with 
deep green spruce and white-boled 
Betula pendula. Finally, near the fjord's 
inland end, a day's voyage from 
Bergen, I spent the night at a small inn 
in a village which clustered at the foot 
of towering, spruce-green cliffs, a nest 
of white-painted, green-trimmed houses. 

Wandering by foot and by bus the next 
two days brought many a thrill, as plant 
communities changed from flowery 
meadows edged with birch, mountain 
ash, willow and pine in the valleys, to 
forests of spire-tall Norway spruce on 
the mountain sides and to ground- 
hugging silvery-leaved willows and 
dark junipers, dwarfed both by 
mountain winds and by inherent traits. 
These fringed the bald, gray tundra, 
where glacial snows gleamed in cold 
ovals and dark lakes gushed into 
streams that tumbled, foaming over 
rocky cliffs and down to the fjord, miles 
below. 

In Oslo, the folk museum made me feel 
that I had known this well-kept land for 
generations. Here I walked through 
a spruce-birch forest from one village 
to another, each typical of an era 
and an area — and all the buildings, 
planks, tiles and all, brought from sites 
throughout Norway. 

The idea of the midnight sun moved 
me as little as some remote solar 
eclipse . . . until I experienced its 
surprising nocturnal light. This was in 
a ship on cold Lake Inari, far north of 
the Arctic Circle in northern Finland. 
Here was a different and an exciting 
world of the mysterious Lapps and their 



10 



Bulletin February 1971 




Gustav Vigeland nudes in Oslo's Frogner 
Park. 



great herds of reindeer wandering 
free over vast nniles of gray tundra. 

Connprehensive exhibits at Helsinki's 
National Museum added the 
knowledge-dimension that only actual 
objects can, to my understanding of the 
prehistory, history and art of a creative 
people, the Finns. Their origins 
shrouded in a mystery lighted only by 
linguistic connections with the Magyars 
and the Esthonians, the Finns came 
early to this northern land, then peopled 
only by the primitive Lapps, from 
Esthonia across the Bay. 

Feeling for design is everywhere evident 
in Helsinki's architecture, from its 
classical central square to the romantic 
buildings of the early part of this 
century and climaxing in the 
magnificent garden suburbs which 
cluster on Helsinki's outskirts: in 
particular, elegantly simple and 
functionally practical Tapeola. 

But In prosperous, sensibly-ordered 
Sweden is what I believe the most 
beautiful temperate world city: 
Stockholm, spreading from Baltic 
islands to mainland. Its copper-green, 
spike-spired churches, its medieval 
and revival castles, its elaborate pubHc 



buildings of the last century and its 
architecture of the twenties — clean-lined 
yet resonant of the national past: all 
these exist in lovely harmony with 
glass and steel modern buildings. And 
they front on mostly broad, clean 
avenues, frequently interrupted by 
parks and squares — flowery, green, 
rich in sculpture and furnished with 
inviting benches and outdoor 
restaurants. 

All this architectural harmony and 
beauty is no accident, for new 
construction or demolition of old 
buildings in Stockholm must first be 
approved by a committee charged with 
protecting and increasing the city's 
beauty. 

For the artist and the garden lover, 
Stockholm offers an unusual joy in 
Mines' Garden, on the rocky cliffside of 
the Island of Lidingo. 

On the Swedish island of Gotland, I 
found something of interest for every 
natural history taste. At the wildflower 
preserve of Allekvia, midst pines and 
flowery meadow, grow several species 
of terrestrial orchids including Orchis 
sambucina, Habenaria bifolia and 
Cypripedium calceolus — closely related 



Bulletin February 1971 



It 



Visby, capital of the Swedish island of 

Gotland. 



to our large yellow moccasin. Bronze 
age man, about 1000 BC, in forested 
glades and near tfie sea, built great 
rock outlines of sfiips over burials — 
magic vessels to bear tfie departed to 
Aasgaard. On Stora Karlso island off 
Gotland, New Stone Age man, 2500 
BC, left cave dwellings. On the same 
island, I found many sea birds, 
including colonies of guillemots, shags 
and razorbills. Gotland's principal city, 
Visby, has some handsome medieval 
ruins. 




Few Gothic cathedrals equal the 
majesty of Uppsala's great Cathedral, 
where the bones of St. Erik the King, 
martyred in Uppsala in 1160, lie in a 
golden box in the high altar. The 13th 
century Cathedral stands over what 
was probably the greatest religious 
center of pagan Scandinavia, when the 
one-eyed god, Odin, reigned supreme 
(he traded the eye for the gift of 
wisdom). 

This university city also is a place of 
almost reverent inspiration for botanists. 
It is here where Carl von Linne 
(founder of the Linnaean system of 
nomenclature and classification) lived 
and carried out his studies, using a 



botanic garden which has been 
carefully kept as he knew it. In nearby 
Hammarby, Linnaeus' gracious country 
home and woodland is maintained. The 
botanic gardens of Uppsala, given by 
Gustav III to the University in 1786, are 
today immaculately kept and artistically 
designed. 

Further south, just across from 
Denmark, is Helsingborg. Nearby are 
some of the most beautifully designed 
gardens in Europe: Norrviken Gardens 
at Bastad. The gardens' creator, Rudolf 
Abelin, was a landscape architect and 
at the turn of the century he began 
developing these varied gardens for 
his own pleasure. All undisguisedly 
Swedish, they nonetheless convey the 
moods of Japanese, Cloister, Baroque, 
Renaissance and Romantic gardens. 
The exotic moods are there, but they 
link to the Swedish setting of sea and 
rolling hills. Another masterful garden, 
this is Helsingborg itself, is the royal 
garden of Sofiero, where sprightly, 
87-year-old King Gustav VI Adolf often 
indulges in his gardening hobby (he is 
also an active archaeology buff). 

A few minutes by ferry and I was in 
Denmark, at Elsinor, where Shakespeare 
set his tragedy at Kronberg Castle, but 
this turreted 16th Century Dutch 
Renaissance castle was built by 
Frederik II centuries after the historical 
Hamlet. In Copenhagen I found another 
impressive castle, this the creation of 
Christian IV in 1606. Its gardens blend 
from one style to another, herbaceous 
border, knot garden and park-estate. 

But garden landscaping isn't the only 
thing that rivets the eye in Denmark. 
The design of jewelry, tableware, glass, 
chairs — almost everything that beguiles 
from the shop windows along 
Copenhagen's pedestrian street 
shopping area. And what can compare 
for gaity to an evening in the Tivoli 
Entertainment Park? 



Phil Clark is Chief of Field Museum 
Natural History Tours. 



12 



Bulletin February 1971 






: 



Resources and Man 

by Committee on Resources and Man 

of the National Research Council of the 

National Academy of Sciences. 

San Francisco, Freeman & Co. (1969). 

$5.95. 



With each new famine somewhere in 
the world, with each new medical 
advance that adds a new control on 
death without a commensurate control 
on birth, the specter of world 
overpopulation becomes more and 
more evident even to the most 
oblivious observer. Will mankind 
choose quantity of life at the expense 
of its quality, or the reverse? Indeed, is 
there still a chance to make such a 
choice? Over the past few years these 
questions have been bandied about 
with a high degree of emotionalism on 
both sides. This book, Resources and 
Man, details, with almost complete 
lack of emotion, the hard numerical 
facts on both sides of this issue. Eight 
experts have teamed together, each 
contributing a chapter, to address the 
question of how far the Earth's 
resources will stretch to accommodate 
a population that is presently doubling 
itself every 35 years! 

The book examines four major areas: 
(1) projected population, (2) food 
resources, (3) mineral resources, 
(4) energy resources. Each question is 
handled in a careful, analytical manner 
with hard numbers and definite 
conclusions based on these numbers. 
Thus, it is not a book for casual 
reading, nor is it for the person who 
seeks vague generalizations. Some of 
the specific conclusions are worth 



stating in this review: (1) The oceans 
are not a "cornucopia" of mineral 
wealth, and never will be. (2) Contrary 
to popular opinion, the oceans will 
never be a major world food supply. 
They can supply at most only 2.5 times 
their present output of food products. 
At best they can become a 
supplementary source for much-needed 
protein, but never for food calories (i.e. 
carbohydrates and fats). (3) Petroleum 
and natural gas will be expended in 
about 100 years. Coal could last 400 
years, unless we use it to replace 
petroleum, in which case, it would last 
at most 200 years. (4) The only 
long-term source of energy will be 
nuclear power but only if we redesign 
our present power reactors to 
breeder-types. 

Some of the authors in this book 
clearly have worked harder at their 
respective contributions than others. 
The chapter by Thomas Levering on 
"Mineral Resources from the Land" is 
disappointing because he spends most 
of his time in a belabored discussion 
on the problems involved in making 
mineral-resource projections. This 
identical kind of problem is, of course, 
faced by most of the other authors, 
who, nevertheless, state their methods 
and limitations and proceed to their 
respective assignments. The chapter by 
Marston Bates on "The Human 
Ecosystem" is completely qualitative 
and is more philosophical in approach. 
Its position, as Chapter 1 , however, 
serves to delimit the areas to be 
considered. Chapter 2, "Interactions 
between Man and His Resources," 
consists of a series of vague, 
qualitative, sociological generalizations 
and is entirely out of place in a book 
of this kind. The chapters by 
S. Hendricks, P. Cloud, N. Keyfitz, and 
W. Ricker are excellent and workmanlike. 
The final chapter (8) by M. K. Hubbert 
on "Energy Resources" is outstanding 
and is the finest exposition on this 
subject available to the general reader. 
It covers all possibilities for large-scale 
energy generation (except wood-burning 
and wind) in a thorough and 
quantitative manner, and draws together 
a huge range of source material on 
this subject. 

For the reader who is critically 
interested in these questions and wishes 
to have the best summation of 



quantitative information available this 
book is highly recommended. The 
pessimist will find here a great deal of 
quantitative justification to fortify his 
gloom; however, the optimist will not 
find himself vanquished by the data. 
A few gleams of hope are seen: falling 
birth rates in some Asiatic countries 
over the last decade; possibilities for 
increased yields of some crops in some 
places in the world; nuclear fission 
(breeder) reactors, and eventually 
fusion reactors, which are capable of 
providing energy for literally thousands 
of years. 

The introduction (unsigned) to this book 
should be read both before and again 
after completing the book. In it are 
detailed twenty-six very specific 
recommendations to establish policies 
that will wisely stretch resources as far 
as possible into the future. 

Many years ago Winston Churchill 
posed a question regarding the 
impending fall of Britannia as a world 
power. If, in the end, uncontrolled 
population demands cause mankind to 
outstretch its earthly resources and 
Civilization herself tumbles, we will 
again have cause to ask the same 
question: "Did she fall — or was she 
pushed?" 



by Dr. Edward J. Olsen, curator of 
mineralogy, Field Museum 



Bulletin February 1971 



13 



LETTERS 



To the Editor: 

I believe you have made a mistake in your 
story of the Origin of Skeletons in animals 
In the December Bulletin on the chart. It 
says man has been on the earth for 
two million years. Well, you may be 
mistaken, man has been on the earth 
between eight and 15 million years ago, 
and I have proof. 

On page 4 paragraph 2 In the 1970 Young 
Peoples World Book Science Supplement 
quotes "after examination of fossil teeth 
and jaws which had lain in the collections 
of the Calcutta and British Museums for 
many years, Drs. Elwyn L. Simons and 
David B. Pilbean, both of Yale University, 
assigned them to a manlike homonid 
that lived in India and Africa between eight 
and 15 million years ago." They took 
radiocarbon tests on the bones in 
California in 1969. 

In California, Dr. Ales Hrdlicka of the 
U.S. National Museum was convinced that 
man had not reached the Americas 
earlier than 2,000 years ago. Researchers 
at the Los Angeles County Museum of 
Natural History announced in 1969 that a 
skull of a woman in the La Brea tar pits 
had been tested by means of radiocarbon. 
It turned out that the skull was 9,000 
years old, more than four times more than 
what Dr. Ales Hrdlicka had said. 

I hope this will prove what I have said, 
we should keep our minds open for further 
proof of man's existence. 

Charles Matza, Jr. 
Chicago 

The author replies: 

Charles Matza has been misled by some 
tricky terminology. The "man-like homonid" 
he refers to has been considered to be 
a member of the same family as man, but 



not yet a man (that is, of the genus 
Homo). One must be arbitrary in drawing 
a line between man and apes, and for 
this reason the date of two million years 
on my chart is also only approximate 
and arbitrary. 

As to his other point, man was certainly 
in the Americas well before the 9,000 year 
date assigned to the La Brea skull, but 
here we are talking of thousands, not 
millions, of years. 

Robert H. Denison 

(Dr. Denison recently retired from Field 
Museum, having served as Curator of Fossil 
Fishes in the Museum's Department of 
Geology for the past 22 years.) 

To the editor: 

The Bulletin's recent article on turtles in 
mythology and folklore contained much 
interesting material, but it did not explore 
the roles of the turtle in ancient Egyptian 
religion. Apparently, from prehistory (before 
c. 3000 BC in Egypt) through the Middle 
Kingdom and subsequent troubled interlude 
(c. 2000-1575 BC) turtles were good luck; 
many turtle figurines were made throughout 
that span, some used as burial objects. 
Probably the protective shell and ability to 
withdraw and emerge caused turtles to be 
associated with preservation and 
resurrection; this idea survived in a 
passage from the later Book of the Dead, 
"I have become Khepri (rising sun). I have 
germinated as plants; I have covered/ 
clothed myself as a turtle." 

That spell was written when the turtle had 
already been redefined as an enemy, and 
it shows the conservative tendency of 
Egypt's faith which resulted in the retaining 
of contradictions! During the New Kingdom 
and later periods (from c. 1575 BC) the 
formula "May Re (sun-god) live and the 
turtle die!" was constantly reiterated on 



tomb walls and in funerary papyri, often 
illustrated by the deceased spearing a 
turtle. According to Dr. Henry Fischer's 
excellent study Ancient Egyptian 
Representations ot Turtles (New 
York 1968), the turtle was cast as the Sun's 
antagonist because of the exceedingly 
furtive and somewhat nocturnal habits of 
the Egyptian river turtle Trionyx niloticus, 
which eventually impressed the people 
more than the sturdiness and renewing. 
(Dr. Fischer finds one anti-turtle spell 
already in the Coffin Texts, the Middle 
Kingdom predecessor of the Book of the 
Dead, just as we have seen a recollection 
of that reptile's originally good role in the 
latter body of texts.) 

Turtle amulets had been discontinued 
during the early New Kingdom (indeed, 
some old ones were disfigured upon 
rediscovery); they were resumed c. 700 
BC, but these were made to ward off 
turtles. The late period featured many 
charms of dangerous and noxious beasts 
based on a common magical principle ot 
homeopathy, or like guarding against like. 

Edmund S. Metzer 
Chicago 



Please address all letters to the editor to 

Bulletin 

Field Museum of Natural History 
Roosevelt Road and Lake Shore Drive 
Chicago, Illinois 60605 

The editors reserve the right to edit 
letters for length. 



14 



Bulletin February 1971 




Lester Armour, 1895 - 1970 

Lester Armour, long-time banker and 
philanthropist, and a member of the Board 
of Trustees of Field Museum since 1939, 
passed away on December 26 at the age of 
75. Through the years, he served as a 
member of the Building and Nominating 
Committees, and since 1962 on the Finance 
Committee, offering his help and guidance 
In many matters vitally affecting the 
Museum. He vi^as a Corporate Member, Life 
Member and Contributor of Field Museum. 

In 1935 Mr. Armour retired from the meat 
packing business founded by his 
grandfather, where he had held the position 
of Executive Vice President. Later he 
became Vice Chairman of the Board of the 
Harris Trust & Savings Bank, a post he held 
until 1963. 




Lester Armour 

Mr. Armour was one of three prominent 
business men appointed public advisers to 
the Midwest Stock Exchange In 1965 by 
members of the Exchange's Board of 
Governors. 

Among his many humanitarian activities, Mr. 
Armour supported the Salvation Army for 
many years and was a member of its 
advisory board. He was former Chairman of 
the Board of Trustees of the Illinois Institute 
of Technology, and a member of the Board 
at the time of his death. 



Dr. Lewis Back from New Ireland 

Dr. Phillip Lewis, curator of primitive art and 
Melanesian ethnology at the Field Museum 
of Natural History in Chicago, has returned 
from a yearlong expedition to the Melanesian 
Island of New Ireland in the Territory of 
Papua and New Guinea, where he was 
studying art in its social context. This trip 
was sponsored jointly by the Museum and 
the National Science Foundation. 

This is Dr. Lewis' second trip to New 
Ireland, the first having taken place in 
1953-54, when on a Fulbright Scholarship 
to the Australian National University in 
Canberra, he was enabled to study art in 
context in New Ireland. Since 1954 he has 
been studying museum collections from 
New Ireland in European, Australian and 
U.S. museums, including those of the Field 
Museum, which has the second largest New 
Ireland collection among world museums — 
about 2700 pieces. In 1970 he showed 
photos of these museum specimens, which 
had been collected over the past 100 years, 
to New Irelanders in order to learn more 
about them, he observed modern versions 
of their major memorial ceremonial, called 
malanggan, and he studied social changes 
in the same village visited in 1954 and 
again in 1970. 

Lewis found that the art of making the 
carved and painted wooden images (called 
malanggan, also) is virtually dead, but that 
the ceremonies still flourish, but without the 
carving. Concrete gravestones are now 
made and they are supplanting the formerly 
made wooden carvings. "A sad fact is," 
said Lewis, "that just at the time [now] 
when New Irelanders are affluent enough to 
sponsor large and complex memorial 
celebrations, there aren't enough carvers 
still operating to be supported by the new 
wealth, so it goes into the expanding system 
of new-style memorials, i.e., with concrete 
grave markers." 

Dr. Lewis is planning a book on New 
Ireland art which will incorporate the field 
observations of modern social context which 
have a direct bearing on how the art was 
made and used in earlier times. 



Geology Field Trip to Ozarks 

Dr. Matthew H. Nitecki, associate curator, 
Department of Geology, will conduct a field 
trip to the Ozarks April 4-10. This region that 
cuts across parts of Arkansas, Missouri, and 
Oklahoma is a diversified geological area of 
igneous and sedimentary rocks, some at 
least one billion years old. The sea covered 
the area many times, depositing 
predominantly limey sediments which later 
became sedimentary rock. Other geological 
processes produced deposits of mineable 
ores, particularly lead and iron. A wide 



variety of geological phenomena will be 
studied in the field, and fossils and minerals 
can be collected in the mines and quarries. 

Anyone interested in joining this 
nontechnical field trip should phone Mrs. 
Maria Matyas, University of Chicago 
Extension, at Financial 6-8300 for further 
information. Members of the Museum are 
eligible for a discount. 

New Hall of Jades 

Field Museum's famous collection of 
Chinese jades will again go on display in 
October in a setting befitting its standing as 
one of the finest in the United States. Mrs. 
John L. Kellogg, who has contributed so 
much to the cultural life of the city, is 
making the new installation possible through 
her generous gift. In appreciation of her 
gift and as a memorial to her husband, this 
hall will be named "The John L. and Helen 
Kellogg Hall." 

During the past year and a half that the Hall 
of Jades has been closed to the public, 
extensive remodeling plans have been 
underway for the new hall. Mrs, Thomas 
Yuhas, who completed her M.A. in Asian art 
history at the University of Michigan, spent 
one year at Field Museum researching and 
authenticating the collection under the 
supervision of Dr. Kenneth M. Starr, former 
curator of Asian archaeology and ethnology. 

Hundreds of the choicest and most 
representative jades from the Neolithic 
period through the Ch'ing Dynasty 
(1644-1912 AD.) were selected. They will 
be installed in recessed display areas that 
are specially lighted to bring out the details 
and subtleties of each object. 

Porcelains, bronzes, scrolls, rubbings, 
ceramics and poetry will supplement the 
jades in the new hall, putting them into 
proper historical perspective and showing 
how the symbolism of a dynastic period 
carried through in various art forms. 
Carpeting and teak walls will set off the 
displays ^nd contribute to a contemplative 
atmosphere. 




A sensitively carved small jade horse from the Sung 
Dynasty (960-1279 A.D.) is Infused with a feeling for 
the spirit of the animal. 



Bulletin February 1971 



15 



NSF Grant for "The Flora of Guatemala" 

Field Museum of Natural History tias been 
awarded a grant of $44,000 by the National 
Science Foundation to support continuing 
research entitled "The Flora of Guatemala." 
The grant, to run two years, is under the 
direction of Dr. Louis O. Williams, chairman 
of the Department of Botany. 

According to Dr. Williams, when completed. 
"The Flora of Guatemala" will be the first 
comprehensive and modern account of the 
plant life of any large region of the 
American tropics. It will serve as important 
reference material for scientists in other 
fields who need to know about the 
vegetation of the area. 

Eleven volumes of the flora covering 
flowering plants, ferns and mosses are 
finished at present, representing thirty years 
of research. It is estimated that four more 
years are needed to complete the final four 
volumes. 



National Institute of Ecology Launched 

Detailed plans for a National Institute of 
Ecology were presented to a meeting of the 
Institute's founders at Field Museum, 
December 30, 1970. The Institute, as a 
research, policy study, information clearing- 
house, and public education institution, 
should strongly advance our understanding 
of ecology and help us reverse our 
increasing degradation of the environment. 
The Museum is one of the founders, along 
with some thirty-five universities, other 
natural history museums, laboratories, 
research and development institutions, and 
oceanographic institutes. Dr. Robert F. 
Inger, chairman of scientific programs, has 
been deeply involved in the planning work, 
begun in 1968 by a study committee of the 
Ecological Society of America, with financial 
support from the National Science 
Foundation. Henry S. Dybas, head. Division 
of Insects, has been appointed Museum 
representative to the Institute, and Dr. 
Rupert L. Wenzel, chairman. Department of 
Zoology, is alternate. 

The Society had been concerned since 
1965, well before the term ecology became 
an everyday word, about the fact that 
existing information concerning the 
ecological hazards of much public and 
private activity is not getting through to 
either governmental agencies or the public. 
It was no less concerned about the present 
and future needs for new knowledge to 
predict the ecological effects of new 
technology. Since then almost everyone has 
at least become aware that large-scale use 
of herbicides in Vietnam, SSTs in the skies, 
and oil spills in any body of water must 
have immediate, probably enduring, and in 
the long run possibly unendurable 
environmental consequences. 



The Institute will have six components. One 
will be a laboratory to conduct basic 
ecological research of scope beyond the 
capacity of existing agencies. An office of 
forecasting and planning will assist other 
agencies, public and private, in use of 
existing ecological knowledge to predict 
and thus make practical plans to avoid 
localized ecological problems. A division of 
policy research will work to bridge the gap 
between fundamental ecological knowledge 
and responsible public policy and social 
action. An office of information resources 
will be a centralized clearinghouse 
providing comprehensive library services, 
computational services, and inventories of 
ecological research in progress. A division 
of communication and education will build 
lines of two-way communication between 
ecologists and all segments of the public, 
including other scientists, public and private 
decision-makers, and the general public. A 
division of biome modeling and synthesis 
will have primary responsibility for planning 
and coordinating scientific activities, and 
will provide research assistance to outside 
scientists. 

A mixture of public and private funds 
derived from both grants and income from 
contractual services will support the 
Institute, so that it can be independent of 
any governmental or private agency 
(including its parent organization, the 
Ecological Society of America). 



Student Anthropology Program 

Field Museum has been awarded a grant of 
$8,705 from the National Science 
Foundation for support of its Student 
Science Training Program in Anthropology, 
scheduled for June 28 through August 6. 
The course is under the direction of Miss 
Harriet Smith of the Museum's Department 
of Education. 

The six-week program is a unique one in 
that it provides a sound foundation in the 
various fields of anthropology and is 
designed to assist students in testing a 
career interest. It is open to 27 high-ability 
high school students who have just 
completed their junior year. Selection will be 
on the basis of academic achievement, 
recommendations of teachers and personal 
interviews. 

In its eighth year, the training course 
includes lectures by outstanding authorities, 
seminars, workshops, research projects, 
study of Museum collections and 
participation in an archaeological 
excavation. 

Application forms are available from high 
school officials or Miss Smith and must be 
returned to Field Museum no later than 
March 15. 



r 



SCANDINAVIA: 
REFRESHING LANDS OF 
FJORDS & MIDNIGHT SUN 
JUNE 8 -JULY 2, 1971 

$2,405 (INCLUDES A $500 
TAX-DEDUCTIBLE DONATION) 

Fjords, outdoor museums, gardens, 
wildflowers, birds, archaeological sites, 
architecture, design, Linnaeus' gardens, 
great cathedrals, historic palaces, 
opera, midnight sun in Lappland, 
reindeer: Bergen, Oslo, Helsinki, Tapiola, 
Lake Inari, Stockholm, Gotland Island, 
Uppsala, Gothenburg, Kattegat, 
Halsingborg, Norrviken, Sofiero, 
Bosjokloster, Lund, Helsinfors, Copenhagen. 

WRITE: 

FIELD MUSEUM WORLDWIDE 
NATURAL HISTORY TOURS 
ROOSEVELT RD. AT LAKE SHORE DR. 
CHICAGO, ILLINOIS 60605 




16 



Bulletin February 1971 



CALENDAR 



Continuing 

Catalogue of the Different Specimens of 
Cloth Collected in the Three Voyages of 
Captain Cook, to the Southern Hemisphere. 

London, Alexander Shaw, 1787, shown in 
the South Lounge. The rare copy consists 
of actual tapa cloth specimens collected 
during Captain Cook's voyages to the 
South Seas (1768-1780). The volume is the 
gift of Mrs. A. W. F. Fuller. Through 
IVIarchSI. 



Life in Other Worlds? An exhibit of the 
Murchison meteorite, a Type II carbonaceous 
chondrlte, of which only 14 exist out of 
the almost 2,000 known meteorites. 
Recently, amino acids, possible building 
blocks of life, have been reported in this 
meteorite. South Lounge. Through March 21. 



John James Audubon's elephant folio, 
"The Birds of America," on display in the 
North Lounge. A different plate from the 
rare, first-edition set is featured each day. 



"Exploring Indian Country," Winter Journey 
for Children. The free, self-guided tour 
enables youngsters to see American Indians 
of three environments as the early explorers 
saw them. All boys and girls who can read 
and write may participate. Journey sheets 
are available at Museum entrances. Through 
March 9. 



7Sth Anniversary Exhibit: A Sense of 
Wonder, A Sense of History, A Sense of 
Discovery, continues indefinitely. Exhibits 
relating to Field Museum's past and present 
and current research projects are shown 
in a new and different way. Hall 3. 



Hours 

9 a.m. to 4 p.m. Monday-Thursday 
9 a.m. to 9 p.m. Friday 
9 a.m. to 5 p.m. Saturday and Sunday 
and February 1 and 15 

The Museum Library is open 
9 a.m. to 4 p.m. 
Monday through Friday 



Begins February 7 

26th Chicago international Exhibition 
of Nature Photography, featuring 

award-winning photographic prints. 
Sponsored by the Nature Camera Club of 
Chicago and Field Museum. South Lounge. 
Through February 28. 



February 7 and February 14 

A showing of prize-winning transparencies 

from the 26th Chicago International 
Exhibition of Nature Photography, 2:30 p.m., 
James Simpson Theatre. 



Through February 7 

A Child Goes Forth, an exhibit of toys and 
games from around the world, examines 
their importance in the cultural development 
of children. Hall 9. 



Meetings 

February 9, 7:45 p.m.. Nature Camera Club 
of Chicago 

February 9, 8 p.m., Chicagoland Glider 
Council 

February 10, 7 p.m., Chicago Ornithological 
Society 

February 10, 7:30 p.m.. Windy City Grotto — 
National Speleological Society 

February 11,8 p.m., Chicago Mountaineering 
Club 

February 14, 2 p.m., Chicago Shell Club 

February 21, 2 p.m., Illinois Orchid Society 

March 9, 7:45 p.m., Nature Camera Club 
of Chicago 

March 9, 8 p.m., Chicagoland Glider 
Council 

March 10, 7 p.m., Chicago Ornithological 
Society 

March 10, 7:30 p.m., Windy City Grotto — 
National Speleological Society 



Coming in March 

Color in Nature, an exhibit of broad scope, 
investigates the color dimension of Field 
Museum's huge collections. The varieties of 
color in nature and the meaning of 
coloration in plants and animals are closely 
examined. March 10 through October 10. 
Hall 25. 



"To See Or Not To See," Spring Journey 
for Children, begins March 10. Youngsters 
learn about the diversity of colors and color 
patterns of selected animals, as well as 
the advantages of mimicry and pigmentation 
changes, with the aid of a questionnaire. 
All boys and girls who can read and write 
may participate in the free program. Journey 
sheets are available at Museum entrances. 
Through May 31. 



March 6 



Spring Film-Lecture Series resumes with 
"The New Israel," narrated by Ray Green. 
A vivid and up-to-date portrayal of this 
ancient land and its people, that is a blend 
of the past and the present. 2:30 p.m., 
James Simpson Theatre. 



March 13 



Spring Film-Lecture Series continues with 
"The Call of the Running Tide," narrated 
by Stanton Waterman. Photographed in the 
islands of French Polynesia, much of it on 
sea bottom and along barrier reefs, it is a 
revealing study of the inhabitants and the 
many forms of sea-life surrounding them. 
2:30 p.m., James Simpson Theatre. 



March 20 



Spring Film-Lecture Series presents 
"Uganda — Land of Stanley and Livingston," 
narrated by William Stockdale. Scenes of 
wildlife, the wonders of national parks and 
the people in the cities and remote 
areas. 2:30 p.m., James Simpson Theatre. 



March 27 



Spring Film-Lecture Series offers "Sweden 
Year Around," narrated by Ed Lark. All 
four seasons are encompassed in this 
motion picture journey to the land of the 
midnight sun. 2:30 p.m., James Simpson 
Theatre. 



y 



.^ 



jiume 42, Number 3 



iield Museum q|lif»tural History 




11^ 1 



{h 



■■|k^>rthe patterning of 
'^Fiuntan behavior might be 
explained by the 
archaeological record. 




Cover: The Revolution in Archaeology. 
Photo at right courtesy Institute of Design, 
Illinois Institute of Technology. 



BULLETIN 



Volume 42, Nunnber 3 
March 1971 



2 The Revolution in Archaeology 

Paul S. Martin 

it may yield results that help to explain contemporary world problems 

8 International Nature Photography Exhibition 

William C. Burger 

nature's beauty and diversity on film 

12 Fieldiana 

Patricia M. Williams 

the Museum's contributions to science that the public seldom sees 

14 Field Briefs 

16 Letters 

Calendar 



Field Museum of Natural History 

Director, E. Leiand Webber 

Editor Joyce Zibro; Associate Editor Elizabeth Munger; Staff Writer Madge Jacobs; Production Russ Becker; Photography John Bayalis, 
Fred Huysmans. 

The Bulletin is published monthly by Field Museum of Natural History, Roosevelt Road at Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, Illinois 60605. Subscrip- 
tions: $9 a year; $3 a year for schools. Members of the Museum subscribe through Museum membership. Opinions expressed by authors 
are their own and do not necessarily reflect the policy of Field Museum. Unsolicited manuscripts are welcome. Printed by Field Museum 
Press. Application to mail at second-class postage rates is pending at Chicago, Illinois. Postmaster: Please send form 3579 to Field Museum 
of Natural History, Roosevelt Road at Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, Illinois 60605. 



Bulletin March 1971 




The Revolution, 




c 




K<^ 



.a 



1^. 




Up to and including 1960, I pursued 
four goals: (1) the application of 
palynology; (2) thie closing of the gaps 
in the archaeological record by 
working in relatively unexplored areas; 

(3) a historical reconstruction of the 
relationship between the prehistoric 
"cultures" of eastern Arizona and the 
historic Hopi and Zuni cultures; and 

(4) the establishment of a stratigraphy 
of traits for the area. 

In connmon with most of my colleagues, 
I had emphasized culture traits, trait 
lists, histories of sites and/or areas — 
all organized in a time-space 
dimension. I entertained the illusion 
that the facts would speak for 
themselves. I was carrying on "normal 
science," or solving jig-saw puzzles. 

Since 1960, my goals and interests 
have been modified by the trend that 
is spreading across the country — a 
trend that symbolizes a shift from 
emphasis on particularisms to an 
imaginative era in which we build a 
cultural-materialist research strategy 
that can deal with the questions of 
causality and origins and laws. The 
trend toward a re-examination of goals, 
research methodology, and paradigms 
seems apparent in other fields — 
sociology, linguistics, geology, 
biochemistry, and physical anthropology 
— to mention only a few. 

As a result, I have substantially altered 
the bearing, emphasis, and procedures 
of my research. Thus, a conceptual 
transformation, a revolution, has taken 
place for me. 

In 1961-62, the subject matter of my 
researches changed slightly — to wit: I 
developed the desire for information 
on cultural ecology of eastern Arizona; 
but I was still concerned with the 



L^^^^ 


1 




1 



historical relationships mentioned 
above. Further, I expanded my interest 
in the stylistic traits of the "Snowflake 
culture" in Arizona and its ties with 
both Its Anasazi and its Mogollon 
neighbors. 

By 1963-64, substantial changes 
appeared in my research design. I was 
still committed to the old stance on 
writing the "culture history" of our 
eastern Arizona area. Two new 
dimensions, however, were added. One 
was theoretical; it consisted of focusing 
on culture, not as an aggregation of 
traits but as an adaptive mechanism 
that permitted man to cope with the 
daily problems of living. The facets of 
culture were sub-divided: (a) 
sociologic, (b) economic, and (c) 
ideologic. The other dimension was 
methodological. It was concerned with 
sophisticated statistical techniques, 
sampling, statistical models, and 
computer aid at all levels of research. 
It was not, as is naively assumed, 
"computer archaeology," for there is 
no such thing. 

These shifts hastened to displace my 
old interest in regional cultural history 
by the analysis of individual sites as 
socio-cultural adaptations — as on-going 
social systems. By studying the 
patterns of culture represented by the 
distributions of artifacts at each site, I 
hoped to make contributions to 
anthropology. In 1965, many of these 
emerging trends had become more 
solid and firm. If a site represented a 
once flourishing social system, I felt 
we should analyze it by asking 
questions about the subsystems of 
which it was composed. I focused not 
upon traits but upon the patterned 
co-variation of groups of traits. I 
studied ecological, sociological, 
technological, economic, and 
ideological problems. I set contributions 
to the understanding of human 
behavior as the primary goal. 



n Archaeology 



Paul S. Martin 



I now feel in a better position to make 
contributions to anthropology. I now 
regard the use of logic and of scientific 
methods as the minimum acceptable 
standard for good archaeology. By this 
I mean the procedure of advancing a 
hypothesis (defined as a statement of 
relationship between two or more 
variables) to explain observed data or 
behavior. By the interchange of 
deduction and induction, the hypothesis 
can and must be tested with 
independent but relevant data. Thus, 
by taking as our hypotheses general 
propositions concerning causes for 
culture change, we shall be able to 
make contributions to anthropology, to 
formulate probabilistic laws of cultural 
dynamics, the results of which may be 
relevant to contemporary world 
problems. 



In describing this adaptation to my 
physical, social, and intellectual 
environment, I shall try to explain 
how this revolution came about. I do 
this, not because my metamorphosis 
is important to anyone but myself, but 
because the changes that I describe 
are the product of the dissatisfactions 
shared by many archaeologists. This 
essay may be of help to younger, 
creative men who recognize that 
something is lacking in their research 
strategies but who do not quite know 
how to remedy it. 



Some years ago, Robert Maynard 
Hutchins is alleged to have described 
archaeology as a "tool course" that 
belonged in the curricula of vocational 
schools and not in those of a university. 

This scornful evaluation really racked 
me, but it had enough truth in it to 
make it impossible to disregard. 
Actually, he was not far off target, 



especially when one recalls the then- 
current definitions of archaeology: 
— Archaeology, the science of what Is 
old In the career of humanity, 
especially as revealed by excavations 
ot the sites of prehistoric occupation. 
Archaeology, of course, Is a sort ot 
unwritten history. 
— Archaeology deals with the 
beginnings of culture and with those 
phases of culture which are now 
extinct. 

— Archaeology reconstructs human 
history from earliest times to the 
present. It Is concerned with the 
beginnings of culture and also with 
cultures and civilizations that are now 
extinct. 

In general, then, there was agreement 
among most American archaeologists 
that archaeology was concerned with 
reconstruction of culture history and 
lifeways as well as with the delineation 
of cultural processes. We had a model 
tor working out culture history, but 
lacked a model for explaining culture 
change. We were slowly realizing the 
importance of understanding cultural 
processes over vast periods of time. 

These goals of archaeology had at one 
time been satisfactory as paradigms; 
but, gradually, the mortar fell out of 
the joints of our "edifice"! Crucial 
questions arose which could not be 
answered with the existing models. 
For instance, why did the mobile 
hunting-gathering culture of the 
Southwest change to a sedentary one; 
or why did cultures of fVlesoamerica 
become urban? These are specific 
instances of a more general question: 
Under what conditions do changes in 



adaptive strategies occur? It appears 
that strategy shifts occur when there 
are major changes in population, 
integration, technology, or differentiation 
— particularly, the latter two. I began to 
feel that our research was futile; we 
were, in fact, not increasing our 
knowledge of the past nor applying it 
to contemporary problems of our 
society. 

At this time, a crisis took place in my 
professional career. I had been vaguely 
aware of new trends, of fresh breezes 
that were disturbing my mouldering 
ideas. I finally awakened to the fact 
that I had to resolve this crisis either 
by catching up with what was going 
on, or by resigning myself to becoming 
a fossil. I must admit that at first the 
different ideas and approaches 
outraged me. I was hostile to them, 
probably because a 35-year 
professional investment was at stake. 
I was afraid of things strange and new. 
It is not uncommon for scientists to 
resist scientific discoveries. 

Long before my dissatisfaction and 
unfulfillment became articulate, a few 
archaeologists and anthropologists 
from 1930 on had concluded that our 
traditional methods were leading them 
astray, down dead ends, and up 
against blank walls. It was 
borne in on these disaffected students 
that archaeology is part of anthropology 
and is, therefore, a social science. As 
practiced, however, it was at best a 
stunted history and presentation of 
facts for their own sake; and, at worst, 
a kind of stamp-collecting pursuit. The 
interpretation of interrelationships of 
events, time, and space could go on 
ad Infinitum and never get anywhere. 
As one archaeologist put it, our 
accomplishments were "sterile 



Bulletin March 1971 



Archaeology 

methodological virtuosity." We were in 
a cul de sac because comparing forms 
and systematizing our data were not 
leading to an elucidation of the 
structure of social systems any more 
than did the ordering and taxonomy of 
life forms by Linnaeus explain the 
process of organic evolution. 

We archaeologists were confronted 
with the bewildering and perplexing 
fact of a disparity between what we 
wanted to accomplish — an explanation 
of why cultures change — and what we 
were actually doing — histories of sites. 
For example, we recognized, though 
dimly, the desirability of explaining 
past cultural processes, but a research 
strategy for conducting such studies 
had not been developed in 
archaeological theory. In fact, we had 




no theory and we lacked goals. We 
were in a vexing and painful 
predicament. We were digging up sites, 
towns, and cities; classifying pottery 
and tools with a fatuous obsession; 
dating places and things; writing 
reports and arriving nowhere. Rarely 
were explanations and predictions 
attempted; seldom, generalizations or 
probabilistic laws. 

True, archaeology had contributed 
significantly to general knowledge: it 
had established the probable antiquity 
and origin of man; it had contributed 
substantially to the delineation of 
Biblical and Grecian history; it had 
made a significant start toward defining 



the origin and antiquity of the American 
Indians; it had demonstrated the 
separate development of cultures in the 
Old and New World; it had outlined the 
evolution of cultures, the origins of 
agriculture, and the development of 
systems of writing; it had aided in the 
destruction of many myths and much 
folklore concerning giants, races, and 
human origins. 

I do not disparage or belittle these 
achievements. They were not, however, 
explaining, predicting, or clarifying 
cultural phenomena; they were not 
concerned with contemporary problems 
of behavioral science; and, finally, they 
were not helping man to understand 
and to interpret his world. 

Clearly, this impasse would be resolved 
as it always has been in science — by 
the emergence of a new paradigm. 
This one would not be an extension of 
the older models that had guided us, 
but would be, rather, a reconstruction 
of the field from new fundamentals. As 
I look back with the benefit of 
hindsight, I think we began to realize 
that goals (explanations), investigative 
techniques, and collecting of data are 
not independent variables. On the 
contrary, they stand in a dependent 
relationship, one to the other. After 
that, a temporary agreement about 
what constitutes good research strategy 
and what results were acceptable 
came slowly into being. 

Then, in 1961, by good fortune I was 
launched into a new stream of events 



that was to bring me hope of renewed 
progress and meaning in archaeology. 

Lewis R. Binford, a student of Leslie 
A. White, and his students were 
discovering what others had stumbled 
on, namely that the traditional ways of 
archaeology were unpromising and 
ineffective. Fortunately, they were not 
deeply committed to the establishment; 
they perceived that the old rules no 
longer "defined a playable game." 
It is interesting to note that, as was true 
of other great innovators, they were 
young. 

At this time, four of Binford's students 
— James A. Brown, Leslie G. Freeman, 
James N. Hill, and William A. Longacre 
— were collaborating with me in 
archaeological analyses. They showed 
me how we could build on what had 
been done and how advances could 
be made. They were kind, patient, 
stimulating mentors. 1 perked up. 1 
listened. I attended seminars. I reread. 
1 found most of the theories and 
practices of the past obsolete. I slowly 
became acquainted with new concepts 
and with the need for employing new 
and methodologically sophisticated 
techniques of data acquisition and 
analysis. I began to perceive what is 
meant by the nature of scientific 
explanations and devices for 
systematizing knowledge. Hence, a 
small group of archaeologists in 
various parts oi' the country accepted 
cultural-materialism as a valid strategy. 
They rejected historical-particularism; 
they stressed the need for devising a 
research design that would conform to 
uniform or accepted rationales on 
which to base acceptance or rejection 
of hypotheses. This group, and I now 
consider myself part of it, has 
re-oriented its theoretical and 



Bulletin March 1971 



methodological systems. These men 
are creating a new paradigm. 

This change may not seem to some so 
profound as the shift from geocentrism 
to heliocentrism or those changes 




brought about by Kepler, Newton, or 
Boyle, to name but a few. The point I 
wish to stress is that a new paradigm 
permits one to see things differently 
today than one did yesterday, even if 
and when looking at the same 
phenomena. 

Let us consider two men looking at the 
console of a large pipe-organ. One 
man is an organist; the other, 
unlearned musically. The organist 
instantly "sees" many things: the 
various manuals (keyboards) as 
representing separate organs — the 
solo, the swell, the great, the choir, 
and the pedal keyboard, on which the 
feet play; the stops, each controlling a 
single rank or multiple ranks of pipes; 
the couplers, the thumb pistons, toe 
studs, expression pedals, and more. 
The non-organist is looking at the 
same details, but is not seeing that a 
certain stop will produce a loud tone 
or one of a deep pitch or that one's 
feet can "play" the pedals as nimbly 
as one's fingers. All he sees is a 
complex looking "thing" with black 



and white keys, strange looking knobs 
en masse, a bench, and a rack. They 
are not both visually aware of the 
same object. The non-organist must 
learn music and study the organ 
before he can see (hear, feel, sense) 
what the organist sees. Thus, the two 
men may be said to have vastly 
different conceptual organizations and, 
since their visual fields have a different 
organization, they observe different 
things. 

So it is that the archaeologist armed 
with a different conceptual organization 
and a new paradigm can now see in 
familiar objects what no one else has 
seen before. He has a new way of 
thinking about his universe; he knows 
now how to "see" ancient sites, 
stratigraphy, stone tools, in a new and 
meaningful perspective. For example, I 
used to be a virtuoso of pottery types. 
Given almost any sherd from the 
southwestern United States, I could 
place it spatially and temporally. But I 
was unable to tell you a thing about 
the interrelationship of shapes, designs, 
types, and functions. I had not "seen" 
that a given pottery type x might have 
been used almost exclusively for ritual 
or burial purposes. Nor did it ever 
occur to me to postulate that pottery 
was more than a type or that it 
represented part of an articulated 
system that had been adapted by man 
to his environment in order to carry on 
the business of living. I was unable to 
see that the patterning of human 
behavior might be explained by the 
variability in the archaeological record. 

The force of what I am trying to make 
clear about the ability to "see" may be 
made clearer by examples. It is said 
that prior to the time of Copernicus, 
western astronomers, obsessed by the 
Ptolemaic model, regarded the heavens 



as immutable; whereas the Chinese 
astronomers during the same centuries 
(prior to A.D. 1500) had recorded the 
appearances of new stars (novae), 
comets, and sun-spots. In other words, 
the Ptolemaic model held by western 
astronomers prevented them from 
actually observing what was there to 
see. Their model blinded them. By the 
same token, our models and our 
hypotheses must be created in such a 
way as to include multi-variate 
explanations in order that we may not 
be blind to reality. The paradigm within 
which we work determines what one is 
going to "see" — to observe. 

Thus, as a result of a new paradigm, 
I live and work in a different world. 
The new paradigm that has emerged 
was a direct response to the crisis that 
had arisen because the traditional 
archaeological paradigm was askew. 
This kind of crisis leads to a scientific 
revolution. 

What, then, are some aspects of this 
revolution-inciting paradigm and how 
is archaeology redefined? 

To claim that some archaeologists 
have adopted a new paradigm is 




equivalent to asserting that when they 
look at their world they see something 
new and different. If the claim is true, 



Bulletin March 1971 



Archaeology 



then I should be able to specify some 
of the principal changes in their 
conceptual organizations and the 
different things they observe. I think it 
is possible to point out some of the 
major differences. 

According to the old view, archaeology 
was defined as a special kind of 
history. Data were regarded primarily 
as the function and result of unique 
events, and the task of the 
archaeologist was to collect random 
facts and create a reconstruction of 
past events and of by-gone life-ways. 
A whole was to be formed from 
random data. 

According to the new view, 

archaeology is a science, for "science" 
includes not only physical and 
biological fields but also the social 
sciences — anthropology, sociology, 
economics. Even historical inquiry 
does not differ radically from the 
generalizing natural or social sciences, 
in respect to either the logical patterns 
of its explanations or the logical 
structures of its concepts. 
Archaeologists must now regard data 
as unique expressions of recurring 




cultural processes. Understanding data 
is worthwhile primarily as a means of 
understanding these recurring 
processes. 

In the old view, reports or monographs 
concerned with archaeological survey 
and/or complete descriptions of all 
recovered data from a site were 
considered all-important. Usually, such 



reports included a history of the region 
or a reconstruction of the history of a 
site. In a sense, it was at best highly 
sophisticated antiquarianism. 

In the new view, the function of 
science — and hence of archaeology — 
is to establish general laws covering 
the behavior of the observed events or 
objects with which the science in 
question is concerned. This enables us 
to connect our knowledge of separated 
events and to make reliable predictions 
about other events. Statements with a 
high degree of probability covering a 
broad range of phenomena are among 
the important aims of science. 

Our ultimate goal in anthropology and 
archaeology is to formulate laws of 
cultural dynamics; to seek trends and 
causes of human behavior; and, as 
noted above, to make probabilistic 
predictions. 

To apply this to an archaeological 
situation is neither difficult nor 
impossible. Human behavior is patterned 
(demonstrable and demonstrated); and 
if the patterning has not been disturbed 
by erosion, plough, or pot-hunters, it 
can be recovered by proper techniques 
of limited excavation, that is, by an 
adequately designed sampling 
procedure. Data relevant to all parts of 
the extinct socio-cultural system are 
preserved. We have only to devise a 
proper definition of culture and 
appropriate techniques for extracting 
this information from the extant data. 
Thus, a systems approach to culture 
permits us to view a site at a single 
point in time. When one system is 
compared to another, we perceive 
process at work — that is, change with 
or without continuity. By process, I 
mean the analysis of a system at one 



point in time and at one place, and 
how it is transformed into a different 
system in the same area at a later 
time. The comparison of systems — not 
individual "traits" — provides data for 
understanding trends and for 
comprehending regularities. Once these 
are comprehended, one can make 
probabilistic predictions. 

Under the old view, culture was 
defined implicitly or explicitly as a set 
or an association of traits, qualities, 
properties, or features. Arrowheads, 
pots, houses, firepits, orientation of the 
dead, bone tools, manos, axes, 
ornaments — all of these and hundreds 
more are traits. Thus, archaeologists 
spoke of the Effigy Mound "culture," 
the Desert "culture," the Beaker 
"culture," the Megalithic "culture." 
Each of these was characterized as 
possessing certain traits that set it off 
from all other neighboring or distant 
"cultures." Archaeologists even spoke 
of certain tribes as being the 
"brown-ware (pottery) people." Minute 
differences in projectile point shapes 
were thought of as being important in 
distinguishing one people from another; 
and whole migrations of people were 
postulated on the basis of a single trait 
or a unique association of traits. 

Under the new view, culture is thought 
of as man's extrasomatic adaptation to 
his total sociological and ecological 
environment. Prehistoric communities 
(sites) are studied as whole systems 
each subsystem — technological, 
sociological, ideological — of which is 
a closely knit, interrelated set of 
functional parts. Patterns of significantly 
co-varying clusters of stylistic 
categories and attributes of data 
derived from all subsystems are sought. 

From the old view, insofar as 
archaeology held any logical structures, 
it was thought to be inductive. To 
some, it demonstrated a kind of 
mysticism in that artifacts recovered 



Bulletin March 1971 



from a dig were assumed to speak to 
the archaeologist who thereby 
identified himself with the objects 
(supplemented the real with the ideal). 
However, facts cannot be expected to 
unscramble themselves and produce a 
theory in the same way as scrambled 
letters in an animated cartoon 
unscramble and form a word. Random 
facts were avidly collected in the belief 
that this was good procedure and that 
the end (reconstructing prehistoric 
life-ways) justified the means 
(haphazard collecting of data, with no 
goals or hypotheses in mind). 

From the new view, the time to retool 
is here. It is the consensus that the 
fruitful approach to a science of the 
past (as in all sciences) lies in those 
systems of logic in which deduction 
and induction interplay. 

Archaeology can be structured, it need 
not be haphazard or vague. Tentative 
hypotheses may be deductively 
formulated to give direction to scientific 
investigation. Such hypotheses 
determine what data should be 
collected at a given point in an 
investigation by means of test 
implications. It can be shown that the 
old method of fact collecting is a 
sterile procedure and produces a 
morass. Worse, such a procedure will 
fail to reveal regularities and will lead 
to no conclusion. (Recently, I heard a 



colleague describe the data from an 
impressive series of excavations and 
then tell his audience that he did not 
know what to do with these data!) 

Actually, most archaeologists have 
prior or implicit ideas and postulates 
and even derived theories, but they 
often fail to make these explicit. They 
shrink from the ridicule that might 
beset them if they were to make 
known these hypotheses. It would take 
but little intellectual shift to train 
themselves in the hypothetico-deductive 
approach. They would then realize that 
hypotheses are formulated or invented 
to account for observed facts and not 
the other way around. 

Our knowledge of the past can only be 
increased by these procedures of 
interplay and feedback of deduction- 
induction, formulating hypotheses 
concerning human behavior and then 
testing them by relevant archaeological 
data. The only limits to increasing our 
knowledge of the past lie in poor 
intellectual training and in failing to 
understand that all archaeological 
remains have relevance to propositions 
bearing upon cultural processes and 
events of past times. The accuracy of 
our knowledge of the past may be 
measured by the degree to which our 
hypotheses about the past are 
confirmed or rejected. 

In the light of the above suggestions, 
we redefine archaeology as a 
discipline that deals with the socio- 
cultural systems and cultural processes 
of the past. Archaeology is a social 
science because its goal is to explain 



human behavior. Archaeology is 
anthropology because it uses the 
concept of culture. Because these 
goals are accomplished by using data 
from the past, the science is 
archaeology. Using data from the past, 
however, does not make it a type of 
history. It is not history because 
archaeology deals with general 
relationships between variables of 
human behavior, and not with 
explaining sequences of unique events. 

The new paradigm does not resolve 
any problems. Its value rests in the 
fact that it revolutionizes our methods 
of thinking and permits us to view our 
inquiries in a different way and with 
greater scope. It is a new way of 
regarding the problems of archaeology. 
It is high time that archaeologists make 
use of the new research tools given 
them by the logic and structure of 
science. 



Although I have written this essay in the first person, 
I emphasize that my efforts have been the results of 
suggestions, collaboration and cooperation v»ith 
young, ardent, capable, and dedicated scientists — 
Lewis R. Binford. James A. Brown, Leslie G. 
Freeman, John M. Fritz. James N. HiU, Mark P. 
Leone, William A. Longacre. Fred T. Plog. Edwin N. 
Wilmsen — to name but a few. 

Adapted and reprinted, by permission of the Society 
for American Archaeology, from American Antiquity, 
Volume 36, Number 1. January 1971. 

Dr. Paul S. Martin is chairman emeritus ol 
antliropoiogy at Field Museum. 



Bulletin March 1971 



International nature photograp 



More photographers than ever before this year sent 
more photographs than ever before to be considered 
for the 26th Chicago International Exhibition of 
Nature Photography. Over 4,000 color slides and 
400 prints were submitted by some 1,000 
photographers from 48 states and many other 
countries. Field Museum and the Nature Camera 
Club of Chicago are joint sponsors of this biggest 
exhibition of nature photography in the v\/orld, 
held in the Museum. We wish there were space 
to reproduce more than the four entries shown here. 

No monetary awards are involved. It is a 
noncommercial, nonprofessional event. Most 
entrants are amateur but avid nature photographers. 
But the honor of having one's work accepted is 
an acknowledged standard of accomplishment that 
even some professionals seek. 

A lot of work is involved in opening boxes, 
carefully preparing all the slides and prints for 
judging, showing, and finally returning to their 
owners. Most of it is done by members of the 
Nature Camera Club, with assistance by the 
Museum staff in setting up the exhibit. 

The challenge of putting nature's beauty and 
diversity on film makes this hobby so exciting. 
The reward comes when people respond to an 
unusual glimpse of nature caught by your camera 
— something they may otherwise never have seen 
or noticed. 



William Burger 

President, Nature Camera Club of Chicago 



Bulletin March 1971 



iy exhibition 




7v«:t-C- 




^£' 



W-^ 




->^ 



^'^ . 




:,^- 







Photos: Sand Curves (page 9), by Alexander 
Oupper, Lodi, California. Redwood in Fog (page 
10), by Dr. Fred Modern. Long Beach, California. 
Caracal Lynx (page 11), by Earl Kubis, Downers 
Grove, Illinois. Machaeon Swallowtail (page 11), 
by Tom Webb, Edmonton, Alberta, Canada. 



Bulletin March 1971 



11 



FIELDIANA 



Patricia M. Williams 




Last year was Fieldiana's 75th birthday. 
In those 75 years Field Museum has 
published over 1 ,100 issues of Fieldiana. 
The list of Fieldiana titles stands a 
towering 22 feet high in the Museum's 
75th Anniversary Exhibit and Fieldiana's 
distribution is worldwide in scope. And 
yet, unless you're a professional 
scientist, you may have never even 
heard of Fieldiana, let alone read 
a copy. 

Fieldiana is a continuing series of 
scientific papers and monographs 
dealing with anthropology, botany, 
geology and zoology intended primarily 
for exchange-distribution to museums, 
libraries, and universities, but also 
available for purchase. 

Fieldiana was begun in what is often 
referred to as the "Museum Age" — the 
1800's. Many of this country's great 
natural history museums were founded 
in the nineteenth century and their 
scientific series began to proliferate 
toward the end of that century. For 
example, the Bulletin of the American 
Museum of Natural History first 
appeared in 1881, the Proceedings of 
the U.S. National Museum in 1878, the 
Smithsonian Miscellaneous Collections 
in 1860, and the Contributions from 
the Gray Herbarium in 1891. 

Field Museum's Annual Report of the 
Director for 1895 introduced the series 
which would one day be called 
Fieldiana as "the medium of presenting 
to the world the results of the research 
and investigation conducted under 
the auspices of the Museum. The 
publications are intended primarily to 
convey information upon the collections 
and expeditions of the Museum. There 
is no restriction, however, as to 
authorship or subject, provided the 
papers come within the scope of 
scientific or technical discussion." 



At that time the Museum itself was still 
evolving toward its present division 
of interests and the scientific series 
reflects this evolution. Then, as now, 
there was a Botanical, Zoological and 
Anthropological Series but instead of a 
Geology series the Museum offered 
both Historical and Geographical 
publications. In fact, publications 1, 
"An Historical and Descriptive Account 
of the Field Columbian Museum" and 2, 
"The Authentic Letters of Columbus" 
were both in the now defunct 
Historical Series. 

Fieldiana has reflected not only the 
growth and development of Field 
Museum, but of the various sciences 
as well. For example, anthropology 
was just emerging as a professional 
discipline in the United States at the 
time of Fieldiana's introduction and 
some of the most important early 
anthropologists contributed to the series. 
W. H. Holmes published one of the 
world's first reports on the archaeology 
of the Yucatan in the new-born 
Anthropological Series. G. A. Dorsey 
contributed several landmark 
publications on various American 
Indian tribes, recording firsthand details 
of ceremonies and myths which were 
impossible to obtain even a few years 
later. H. R. Voth, a missionary, 
recorded descriptions of sacred 
American Indian ceremonies and his 
publications are standard references 
today. 

Dorsey and Voth published in Field 
Museum's series between 1897 and 
1912. Around 1912 Berthold Laufer, a 



12 



Bulletin March 1971 



scholarly giant of world renown, 
began to publish. His "Jade, a Study 
in Chinese Archaeology and Religion" 
(1912) was one of the first 
authoritative works on jade and is now 
a classic. In 1927 J. Eric Thompson 
published a very short, very technical 
paper called "A Correlation of Mayan 
and European Calendars." This 
calendar, which correlates Christian 
chronology with Mayan hieroglyphics, 
continues to be the standard reference 
point for workers in this field. 
In 1931 Roy L. Moodie contributed 
"Roentgenologic Studies of Egyptian 
and Peruvian Mummies," — one of 
the first published collections of mummy 
X-rays. Paul S. Martin, who has 
published more on the Southwest 
than any other anthropologist, authored 
several volumes in the Fieldiana: 
Anthropology series. Ralph Linton, 
A. L. Kroeber, W. Hambley, Fay Cooper 
Cole, and Alexander Spoehr are 
among the prominent anthropologists 
who have contributed to Fieldiana 
in the past. 

Reviewed in the same detail, the lists 
of Fieldiana: Botany, Geology, and 
Zoology are seen to be studded with the 




names of outstanding scientists 
advancing new ideas, describing new 
genera and species. The colossal 
floras in the Botanical Series are known 
to botanists the world over and 
represent the work of many men. The 
"Flora of Peru," begun in 1936 and still 
in progress, runs to over 6,000 pages 
to date. The "Flora of Guatemala," 
begun in 1957, continues. Just 
beginning is a series on the flora of 
Costa Rica to record the remarkable 
botanical diversity of that area before 
much is eradicated by encroachment 
of the human species and its technology. 

Many of the geology publications have 
been landmarks in the study of the 
earth and early life, presenting new 
concepts, data, techniques, and 
interpretations. One outstanding 
example, "The Paleoecological History 
of Two Pennsylvanlan Black Shales" 
by Rainer Zangerl and Eugene S. 
Richardson, is now used as advanced 
reading in universities. 

Fieldiana: Zoology is an abundant 
source of descriptive and interpretative 
material dealing with insects, 
invertebrates, and vertebrates from 
every area of the world. W. H. Osgood 
and K. P. Schmidt, both former chief 
curators, were prolific writers and 
published often in the Fieldiana series. 
D. Wright Davis' mammoth "The Giant 
Panda: A Morphological Study of 
Evolutionary Mechanisms" is certainly 
one of the most noteworthy issues of 
Fieldiana from a standpoint of both 
quality and size (339 quarto pages, 160 
illustrations). 

It is largely through such publications 
that Field Museum's reputation as a 
scientific institution is maintained and 
enhanced, that its collections and staff 
become known to the scientific 
community. 




Any title of Fieldiana — dated 1895 or 
1971 — can be examined in the Museum 
library. All that are not out of print 
are available for purchase. 

In this age of imperative relevance, 
Fieldiana is relevant. It describes and 
interprets our world and its inhabitants 
as it was and is. For conservationists 
of both human and natural resources, 
Fieldiana provides a record of what was 
so that we can measure what we have 
changed, improved or destroyed. 
Fieldiana has been pure science as 
well — irritating to those who demand 
"But what can you use it for?" but 
inspiring to those who appreciate and 
desire knowledge for its own sake. 



Patricia M. Williams is managing editor 
ot scientific publications at Field Museum. 



Bulletin March 1971 



13 




Dr. VanStone New Anthropology 
Department Chairman 

Dr. James W. VanStone has been named 
chairman of the Department of Anthropology 
at Field Museum. He succeeds Dr. Donald 
Collier, who re-assumes his former position 
of curator of Middle and South American 
archaeology and ethnology. The appointment 
is in accordance with the Museum's new 
policy of four-year term appointments for the 
chairmen of its scienfific departments. 

Dr. VanStone is former curator of North 
American archaeology and ethnology. He is 
a member of a joint committee of the Arctic 
Institute of North America and the Bureau of 
Land Management, Department of the 
Interior, advising on environmental protection 
in conjunction with the Trans-Alaska 
pipeline. The committee, composed of seven 
northern specialists, reviews the work of the 
archaeologists hired by the Trans-Alaska 
Pipeline system. 

An authority on the peoples of the North 
American arctic and subarctic, having taught 
anthropology for eight years at the University 




Dr. James VanStone 



of Alaska and seven years at the University 
of Toronto, Dr. VanStone joined Field 
Museum's staff four years ago. 



Francis Brenton Sails Catamaran Back from South America 

Francis Brenton, voyager, writer, 
photographer and adventurer, returned 
recently with more than one hundred artifacts 
he collected for Field Museum while 
exploring the jungles of South America. 

His journey began a year ago at the top of 
the Amazon, where he purchased a 20-foot 
dugout to traverse its tributaries. "Collecting 
in this region," says Brenton, "was from 
the Rio Ucayali and other rivers branching 
off the main Amazon River, such as the 
Mazon, Napo, Loreto, Yavari and half a 
dozen others. Tribes were mostly Shipibo, 
Jivaro, Yagua and Tucuna. The artifacts 
acquired included blowguns, bows and 
arrows, hammocks, pottery, a headdress, 
flutes, clothing, medicinal plants, baskets, 
bags, ankle and wrist ornaments made of 
jungle seeds, and other similar trinkets." 




Obtaining another 20-footer at Belem, 
Brazil, Brenton lashed the two dugouts 
together to form a catamaran, which he 
named the Sarape. From Belem, he sailed 
up the coast to the Guianas and continued 
to the mouth of the Rio Orinoco in 
Venezuela. In this area he visited the 
Guahibo, Makaritari, Piaroa, and Delta 
Indians, adding more items to his collection 
along the way. 

Returning back down the Orinoco, Brenton 
headed for Trinidad. At this point in his 
narration he stops to explain, "Anyway. 
when I reached the Atlantic from the 
Orinoco, the Sarape started taking on water 
by the bucketful, through the seams which 
the ants had eaten clear of calking. The 
typewriter was thoroughly soaked and I also 
felt the urge to jettison weight, for I was 
six to eight miles from land at the time." 
Brenton was referring to the typewriter he 
was using to record daily events for his 
forthcoming book. The Sarape. It went 
overboard without much further ado. 

The last thirty days of Brenton's voyage, 
from Trinidad to Miami, were relatively 
calm and uneventful. 

Francis Brenton has soloed the Atlantic 
three times, twice in dugout canoes. He is 
the author of A Long Sail to Haiti, and 
The Voyage of the Sierra Sagrada. 

Even though his latest expedition is barely 
over, Brenton is busy making plans for the 
next one. He will leave Miami soon in the 
Sarape, sailing up the Inland Waterway to 
Newport News, from where he will head for 
Plymouth, England. He expects to sail along 
the coasts of France and Portugal as far as 
Madeira, photographing and writing along 
the way, and looking for new adventure. 



Francis Brenton and Dr. Donald Collier, curator of 
Middle and South American archaeology and 
ethnology, examine blowgun, darts, and manioc 
squeezer, some of the objects Brenton brought back 
to the Museum from his most recent voyage. 



Rock Hounds Honor Dr. Richardson 

Dr. Eugene S. Richardson, Jr., curator of 
invertebrate fossils, has been honored by 
the American Federation of Mineralogical 
Societies. The Scholarship Foundation of 
this nationwide federation of rock hound 
groups, encompassing 60,000 members, 
voted their annual Scholarship Foundation 
Award to him for 1971, "for outstanding 
achievement in the field of Earth Sciences." 

Dr. Richardson will thus have the privilege 
of selecting schools that will receive grants 
from the Foundation to assist six graduate 
students for two years each in their work 
toward a master's or doctor's degree in any 
of the earth sciences. The substantial 
resources of the Foundation that make these 
grants possible have been accumulated 
over the years through many small 
fund-raising activities of the local societies 
and contributions of the members. 

The Foundation president, W. H. de Neul, 
wrote that "Dr. Richardson's selection to 
receive this honor is particularly gratifying; 
he has done so much to further among the 
'common men' the interest in paleontology, 
we can think of no one that is more worthy 
of the Award. He regularly and frequently 
lectures to Chicago area audiences and 
works closely with local club members in 
their search of the strip coal mining area 
southwest of Chicago, which has produced 
so many spectacular paleontological finds." 

In addition to his active professional writing 
and other work, Dr. Richardson has indeed 
contributed much to the activities of these 



14 



Bulletin March 1971 



eager nonprofessional groups. He is 
advisory editor of paleontology for Earth 
Science Magazine, and an honorary member 
of tfie Midwest Federation of Mineralogical 
Societies, the Lake County Gem & Mineral 
Society (Waukegan), the Earth Science 
Club of Northern Illinois, and the Chicago 
Rocks & Minerals Society. 

Geology Field Trip 

Details of the April geology field trip to 
the Ozarks will be explained to all 
prospective participants on Saturday, March 
20 at 10:30 A.M. at 65 East South Water 
Street. 

The group will fly to St. Louis on Sunday, 
April 4 and return to Chicago Saturday, 
April 10. A chartered bus will transport 
participants into the field. Four long hikes 
will require hiking clothes. Tuition of 
$160 will include air transportation, the 
chartered bus in Missouri, and all meals. 
(Members of the Museum are entitled 
to 10% discount.) Hotel reservations will 
be made for the group and will be an 
additional $5 to $8 a day. 

The trip is non-credit course N963 offered 
by the University of Chicago Extension in 
cooperation with the Department of 
Education of the Field Museum of Natural 
History. Matthew H. Nitecki, associate 
curator in the Museum's Department of 
Geology, will conduct the course. 
Arrangements to join the group should be 
made by calling Mrs. Marie Matyas, 
University of Chicago Extension, at 
Financial 6-8300. 

Hans Conried Visits Field Museum 




Christopher C. Legge. custodian of anthropological 
collections, shows Hans Conried, the well known 
actor, a necklace that once belonged to Quanah 
Parker, one of the most warlike chiefs of the 
Comanche Indians. Said Mr. Conried during his 
recent visit, "I have been coming here for many 
years — whenever I am in town. Field Museum is one 
of the greatest museums in the world." 



Wood Collection Contributed to 
Agriculture Department 

Field Museum recently transferred its 
worldwide wood collection of more than 
20,000 specimens to the Forest Products 
Laboratory of the United States Department 
of Agriculture Forest Service at Madison, 
Wisconsin. The gift was made possible 
through the efforts of Dr. Louis 0. Williams, 
chairman of the Museum's Department of 
Botany. 

With this acquisition, the extensive Forest 
Products Laboratory collection, which 
includes the Samuel James Record 
collection acquired from Yale University 
in 1969, now totals about 100,000 
specimens of wood from every major 
forest area in the world, making it the 
world's largest research collection of woods. 

The original set of voucher specimens 
(specimens of leaves, stems, flowers and 
fruits mounted on herbarium sheets) for 
Field Museum's wood collection remains 
available in its herbarium for study 
purposes, together with the original voucher 
specimens for many of the woods from 
the Samuel James Record collection, 
determined by Paul C. Standley, 
outstanding authority on tropical American 
botany who spent a "life time" at Field 
Museum. 

More recent vouchers from Forest Products 
Laboratory's valuable acquisitions in Peru 
have been determined and the study 
set and types deposited in Field Museum's 
herbarium. Duplicate specimens of many 
of these recent Peruvian collections 
have been distributed to other scientific 
institutions, including Peruvian, by Field 
Museum. 



NSF Grant for Archaeology Program 

A grant of $22,000 has been awarded Field 
Museum by the National Science Foundation 
for support of its "New Perspectives in 
Archaeology" 1971 summer program for 
high ability college sophomores and juniors. 
This special program has been conducted 
at the Museum's field station at Vernon, 
Arizona since 1964 under a National 
Science Foundation grant for undergraduate 
participation. The project Is under the 
direction of Dr. Paul S. Martin, chairman 
emeritus of anthropology at Field Museum. 

Students selected to participate In the 
ten-week session will be Involved in 
excavation, reconnaissance, and research 



into the prehistory of the Southwest. Each 
student will conceive and execute an 
independent research project. He will 
generate an hypothesis, gather data to test 
it, and demonstrate laws concerning human 
behavior. Dr. Martin believes such laws may 
throw light on contemporary world problems. 

Dr. Martin has worked in the Southwest for 
over forty years. His published reports on 
archaeological sites in New Mexico, 
Colorado, and eastern Arizona have filled a 
dozen volumes of Field Museum's scientific 
series Fieldiana: Anthropology. In 1968 he 
received the Alfred Vincent Kidder Award 
for outstanding contributions to American 
archaeology. An article by Dr. Martin is 
featured in this issue of the Bulletin. 

McCormick Trust Gift 




Stanley Armstrong, executive director of the Robert 
R. McCormick Charitable Trust, and E. Leiand 
Webber, director of Field Museum, look over 
construction work in a light well area at Field 
Museum where much-needed additional office and 
research space is being created for the scientific 
departments. McCormick Trust contributed $150,000 
for the remodeling, in addition to a previous gift of 
$300,000 for new facilities for the Exhibition 
Department. 



TWO NIGHTS TO REMEMBER! 

This year. Members' Night will be held on 
May 6 and 7, to take care of over-flow 
crowds and to give members a chance to 
participate In all of the special activities. 
All events will be the same for both 
evenings. Be sure to mark your calendar. 



Bulletin March 1971 



15 



LETTERS 



To the editor: 

I cannot help but react to the letter written 
by R. B. Ayres in response to Dr. P. 
Ehrlich's population article. Mr. Ayres begins 
with the false assumption that the population 
crisis is a problem only for the rest of the 
world. In fact, that is the least of the 
problem. A child born in the developed 
countries (the U.S., W. Europe and Japan) 
will, in the course of its lifetime, consume 
50 times as much of the resources of the 
world as a child born in the underdeveloped 
world. Clearly, it is this country that is at the 
heart of the world's crisis. 

Mr. Ayres also falsely assumes that it is the 
people of the ghettos that mal^e them such. 
When trying to arrive at the roots of poverty 
perhaps Mr. Ayres should ask the landlord 
who refuses to repair ghetto homes while 
making an exhorbitant profit off the peoples 
right to decent housing. Or the real estate 
agents who refuse to sell or rent to blacks 
outside the confines of the ghetto, thus 
creating a trapped colony. Or the white 
store-owners and corporations that exploit 
this trapped colony and remove its wealth 
to the suburb. 

All of Mr. Ayres' assumptions add up to a 
blatantly racist analysis of the world. One in 
which the white man is culturally and 
racially superior to both the underdeveloped 
world and the black colony at home. Finally, 
by denying any political role in social reality, 
Mr. Ayres assures us of his applause of 
racism, slavery and exploitation. 1 would 
suggest that perhaps he has been in the 
Arizona sun too long and is so far removed 
from reality that his bigotry is perverse. 

John L Lawrencen 

Associate Professor of Antfiropology 

U.C.L.A. 



To the editor: 

Another vote in favor of continued 
information about the population problems. 
In fact two votes. My husband and I agree 
completely with Mr. Alan Garrett's letter in 
the January, 1971 Bultetin. We have only 
been readers of this publication for a year 
or so and look forward to every issue. 

Mrs. Lawrence C. Burns 
Winnetka, fllinois 

To the editor: 

I have just read the article "Canning a 
legend." As a human being and a dog 
owner and an animal lover I feel deeply 
disturbed. I hardly ever feed my dog canned 
food, but all the same how can I find out 
which firms use "wild horses?" Or do all of 
them? Is there anything one can do apart 
from donating money when you see an 
advert in a paper? I wish one could advertise 
the facts pictorially on television — on the 
same channels that advertise dog food. 
I think ali hunting or hounding by plane 
should be forbidden, but what can I do 
about it? 

Rutti Duckworth 
Chicago 

Editor's note: 

The International Society for the Protection 
of Mustangs and Burros is one organization 
that would welcome interest and support. It 
can be addressed in care of Mrs. Helen A. 
Reilly, Badger, California 93603. Hope 
Ryden in her book America's Last Wild 
l-lorses identifies several others, and also 
prints Senate Bill 3358, introduced by 
Wyoming's Senator Clifford P. Hansen last 
year, "to authorize the Secretary of the 
Interior to protect, manage, and control 
free-roaming horses and burros on public 
lands." The bill was read twice and 
referred to the Committee on Interior and 
Insular Affairs. 



Please address all letters to the editor to 

Bufletin 

Field Museum of Natural History 
Roosevelt Road and Lake Shore Drive 
Chicago, Illinois 60605 

The editors reserve the right to edit 
letters for length. 



™jr— ' » . ;     '■  ' — ^ 

K:anoinavia: 
refreshing lands of 

■fjords & MIDNIGHT SUN 
fjUNE 8 -JULY 2, 1971 

$2,405 (INCLUDES A $500 
TAX-DEDUCTIBLE DONATION) 

Fjords, outdoor museums, gardens, 
wildflowers, birds, archaeological sites, 
- architecture, design, Linnaeus' gardens, 
; great cathedrals, historic palaces, 
j opera, midnight sun in Lappland, 
' reindeer: Bergen, Oslo, Helsinki, Tapiola, 
• Lake Inari, Stockholm, Gotland Island, 
Uppsala, Gothenburg, Kattegat, 
Halsingborg, Norrviken, Sofiero, 
Bosjokloster, Lund, Helsinfors, Copenhagen. 

WRITE: 

FIELD MUSEUM WORLDWIDE 
NATURAL HISTORY TOURS 
ROOSEVELT RD. AT LAKE SHORE DR. 
CHICAGO, ILLINOIS 60605 



16 



Bulletin March 1971 



CALENDAR 



HOURS 

9 a.m. to 5 p.m. Saturday-Thursday 

9 a.m. to 9 p.m. Friday 

The Museum Library is open 9 a.m. 
to 4:30 p.m. Monday through Friday. 

Spring Film-Lecture Series, presented at 
2:30 p.m., James Simpson Theatre 

March 6 

"The New Israel," narrated by Ray Green. 
A vivid and up-to-date portrayal of this 
ancient land and its people, that is a blend 
of the past and the present. 

March 13 

"The Call of the Running Tide," narrated 
by Stanton Waterman. Photographed in the 
islands of French Polynesia, much of it on 
sea bottom and along barrier reefs, it is a 
revealing study of the inhabitants and the 
many forms of sea-life surrounding them. 

March 20 

"Uganda — Land of Stanley and 
Livingston," narrated by William Stockdale. 
Scenes of vifildlife, the wonders of national 
parks and the people in the cities and 
remote areas. 

March 27 

"Sweden Year Around," narrated by Ed 
Lark. All four seasons are encompassed in 
this motion picture journey to the land of 
the midnight sun. 



CONTINUING 

John James Audubon's elephant folio. The 
Birds ot America, on display in the North 
Lounge. A different plate from the rare, 
first-edition set is featured each day. 

7Sth Anniversary Exhibit: A Sense of 
Wonder, A Sense of History, A Sense of 
Discovery, continues indefinitely. New and 
exciting display techniques explore Field 
Museum's past and present and current 
research projects. Hall 3. 



THROUGH MARCH 10 

"Exploring Indian Country," Winter Journey 
for Children. The free, self-guided tour 
enables youngsters to see American Indians 
of three environments as the early explorers 
saw them. All boys and girls who can read 
and write may participate. Journey sheets 
are available at Museum entrances. 



BEGINS MARCH 11 

Color In Nature, an exhibit of broad scope 
that uses examples from Field Museum's 
huge collections to explore the nature and 
variety of color in the physical and living 
world around us. It examines the meaning 
of color In the reproduction, survival and 
evolution of plants and animals by focusing 
on its many roles — as in mimicry, 
camouflage, warning, sexual recognition 
and selection, energy channeling and 
vitamin production. Through October 10. 




A male Greater Bird of Paradise, held by Dr. Rupert 
L. Wenzel. chairman of the Department of Zoology, 
displays his bright colors for the favor of female birds. 

"To See or Not to See," Spring Journey for 
Children, helps them learn about the 
diversity of colors and color patterns of 
selected animals, as well as the advantages 
of mimicry and pigmentation changes, with 
the aid of a questionnaire. All youngsters 
who can read and write may participate in 
the free program. Journey sheets are 
available at Museum entrances. Through 
May 31 . 

THROUGH MARCH 21 

Catalogue of the Different Specimens of 
Clotti Collected in the Three Voyages of 
Captain Cook, to the Southern 
Hemisphere, London, Alexander Shaw, 
1787, shown in the South Lounge. 
The rare copy consists of actual tapa cloth 
specimens collected during Captain Cook's 
voyages to the South Seas (1768-1780). The 
volume is the gift of Mrs. A. W. F. Fuller. 

Life in Other Worlds? An exhibit of the 
Murchison meteorite, a Type II 



carbonaceous chondrite, of which only 14 
exist out of the almost 2,000 known 
meteorites. Recently, amino acids, possible 
building blocks of life, have been reported 
in this meteorite. South Lounge. 

BEGINS MARCH 22 
A rare, wild albino mink, in a special 
display in the South Lounge. This almost 
adult female specimen is the gift of Terry L. 
Perry of Johnston, Iowa, who captured it 
about 16 months ago. Through May 16. 

MARCH 28 

"The Bahamas," a free wildlife film, offered 
by the Illinois Audubon Society. 2:30 p.m., 
James Simpson Theatre. 

Meetings 

March 9: 7:45 p.m.. Nature Camera Club of 
Chicago (Everybody is welcome) 

March 9: 8 p.m., Chicagoland Glider 
Council 

March 10: 7 p.m., Chicago Ornithological 

Society 
March 10: 7:30 p.m., Windy City Grotto — 

National Speleological Society 
March 11: 8 p.m., Chicago Mountaineering 

Club 
March 14: 2 p.m., Chicago Shell Club 
March 16: 7:30 p.m., Chicago Area Camera 

Clubs Association 
March 21: 2 p.m., Illinois Orchid Society 

COMING IN APRIL 

The Afro-American Style, from the Design 
Works of Bedford-Stuyvesant, an exhibit of 
hand-printed textiles blending classical 
African motifs and contemporary design. 
April 7 through September 12. Hall 9. 

Spring Children's Programs at 10:30 a.m., 
James Simpson Theatre. 

April 3: Honor day for Cub Scouts and 

film program 
April 17: Film program 
April 24: Museum Traveler Day with 

Journey awards and film program 

Spring Film-Lecture Series presented at 
2:30 p.m., James Simpson Theatre. 

April 3: "Stone Age New Guiana," with 

Lewis Cotlow 
April 10: "Rajasthan: India's Desert State," 

with Len Stuttman 
April 17: "The Right to Live," with C. P. 

Lyons 
April 24: "Adriatic Italy," with Al Wolff 



Volume 42, Number 4 April 1971 

Field Museum of Natural History 


B 


U 


L 


— 



:> • 




BULLETIN 

Volume 42, Number 4 
April 1971 




Cover: Flower motif found In designs on 
pages 2, 4, and 5 enlarged. 



2 Afro-American Style from The Design Works of 
Bedford-Stuyvesant 

Joyce Zibro 

African art from the Museum's famous Benin collection inspires 
designs for silk-screened textiles produced by a new community- 
rooted company in Brool<lyn 

7 IMembers' Nights May 6 and 7 

some of the exciting things in store for members of the Museum 

8 The White Flowered Bottle Gourd 

Louis 0. Williams 

wherever and whenever man found this plant, he put it to use 

10 Hidden Color Pattern in Fossil Shells 

Katherine Krueger 

laundry bleach plus ultraviolet light offer an exciting new way to 

study fossil shells 

12 How an Exhibit Is Made — Color in Nature 

Lothar P. Witteborg 

why a museum exhibit must be designed, not just assembled 

14 Book Reviews 

15 Field Briefs 

16 Letters 
Calendar 



Field Museum of Natural History 

Director, E. Leiand Webber 

Editor Joyce Zibro; Associate Editor Elizabeth Munger; Staff Writer Madge Jacobs; Production Russ Becker; Photography John Bayalis, 
Fred Huysmans. 

The Bulletin is published monthly by Field Museum of Natural History, Roosevelt Road at Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, Illinois 60605. Subscrip- 
tions: $9 a year; $3 a year for schools. Members of the Museum subscribe through Museum membership. Opinions expressed by authors 
are their own and do not necessarily reflect the policy of Field Museum. Unsolicited manuscripts are welcome. Printed by Field Museum 
Press. Application to mail at second-class postage rates is pending at Chicago, Illinois. Postmaster: Please send form 3579 to Field Museum 
of Natural History. Roosevelt Road at Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, Illinois 60605. 



Bulletin April 1971 



1 



Afro- 
american 

style 



from The Design Works of Bedford-Stuyvesant 




"This is our story," reads a small, 
red card which comes with products 
from The Design Works of 
Bedford-Stuyvesant. "In the fall of 
1969, we opened a worl<shop in 
Bedford-Stuyvesant, dedicated to 
creative design and quality 
craftsmanship. After a year of research, 
training and experimentation, our artists 
produced a first collection melding the 
classics of African art with a distinctly 
contemporary esthetic. Our craftsmen 
hand printed the designs on cotton 
linen, and silk." 

Now, after a lot of research and 
experimentation, and with the factory's 
Print Department producing 500 yards 
of fabric a day, the first collection from 
Design Works goes on exhibit at Field 
Museum. Opening April 7 in Hall 9 
under the title The Afro-American Style 
from The Design Works of 
Bedford-Stuyvesant, the exhibit will 
include many examples of handsome 
silk-screened textiles, some made up 
into apparel, table linens and decorative 
items. Exhibited along with these 
beautiful craft products will be the 
original art pieces which inspired their 
designs — Benin bronzes from Field 
Museum's famous collection of 
Benin art. 

Field Museum possesses the largest 
and one of the most comprehensive 
collections of Benin art in the United 
States. Mr. Leslie Tillett, world-famous 
textile consultant to Design Works, 
wrote after seeing the Museum's Benin 
collection, "A wide research program 
has been going on for many months to 
unearth the best of African art. Some of 
this we have been lucky enough to see 
in Africa, but we've found the most 
inspiring group in the Benin collection 
in your museum." 

The ancient African kingdom of Benin, 
in what is now western Nigeria, is 
recognized as having produced art of 
high technical mastery and esthetic 
excellence over a long period — 



certainly over the last five centuries, 
perhaps even longer. Although some 
excellent carvings in ivory and wood 
have come down to us from Benin, it is 
the bronzes which continue to attract 
most attention from anthropologists, art 
historians, and artists. The bronzes, 
produced through the lost wax (cire 
perdue) process, were the work of 
court artists. Included among the fine 
old pieces which have come down to 
us from these artists are great bronze 
portrait heads of the Obas (Benin Kings) 
and bronze relief panels which once 
decorated the rooms and galleries of 
the palace. The panels show the Oba 
and courtiers, noble warriors, European 
merchants, hunting and battle scenes, 
and the animals which played a major 
role in Benin life such as panthers, 
serpents, and mudfish. Life-size bronze 
cocks with carefully engraved feathers 
were also produced by Benin artists. 

The lost wax method of casting, very 
simply, consists of modeling a wax 
image over a clay core, covering the 
model with clay, and applying heat. 
At one and the same time, the clay is 
thus made hard and strong, and the 
wax is melted away, leaving a negative 
clay impression of the original wax 
sculpture, which is then filled with 
metal. Finally, the mold is broken, 
leaving the positive cast in metal. The 
term "lost," or perdue, refers to the 
original sculpture in wax which is, 
indeed, lost as the heat melts it away. 

The lost wax method of casting has 
probably existed in Benin since at least 
the 1300s and probably even earlier. 
It may have been introduced from the 
East or from north of the Sahara, or 
both. Benin tradition states that the 
process was introduced to Benin by 
Iguehga, an artist dispatched from 
nearby Ife about the year 1280. In any 
case, by the time the first Europeans 
arrived in this part of West Africa in 
1485, Benin bronze casting was well 
developed. Iguehga, by the way, is still 
venerated by Benin artists today. 

The high point in Benin art was reached 
in the 1600s and lasted through the first 



quarter of the 1700s. Most scholars 
agree that the art was in a period of 
decline when Benin City was sacked 
and burned by a British punitive 
expedition in 1897. 

Field Museum early in its history 
recognized the value of Benin art and 
acquired many specimens during the 
period 1889 to 1907. Dr. George A. 
Dorsey, then chief curator of 
anthropology at Field Museum, upon his 
return to the United States from a trip to 
England in 1898, wrote a memorandum 
to the director of the Museum: "While in 
Liverpool in the Free Public Museum, 
I saw for the first time a number of the 
bronze objects and carved elephant 
tusks from Benin, West Africa; later on 
in my visit to other European museums, 
I saw a large number of additional 
specimens especially in Berlin where 
they have the largest collection in 
existence. These bronze casts and 
carved elephant tusks are probably the 
most remarkable specimens which have 
ever been brought out of Africa. Their 
presence at Benin was probably 
unknown until about three years ago 
when the first of these wonderful 
specimens . . . was brought to the 
attention of anthropologists of Europe." 

The collection was greatly enlarged 
by the generous gift in 1963 from 
Mrs. A. W. F. Fuller of her late husband's 
major private collection of Benin work. 
Captain Fuller had been a life-long 
collector of outstanding art specimens 
from Africa and the South Seas. 

The Afro-American Style exhibit, in 
addition to presenting the original Benin 
art work and the products from the 
Design Works of Bedford-Stuyvesant 
which were inspired by it, will tell the 
history of this new enterprise. Field 
Museum is pleased to be playing a part, 
albeit a small one. The story goes 
something like this. 

"Bedford-Stuyvesant is the Harlem of 
Brooklyn," says one resident of the 
area. Often referred to as the second 



Bulletin April 1971 



largest ghetto in the United States, 
after Chicago's Southside, 
Bedford-Stuyvesant comprises 653 
blocks stretching in a nine square mile 
area of central Brooklyn. Into these 
blocks are crammed half a million 
people, 90 per cent of whom are black. 
Bedford-Stuyvesant has all the 
problems of any big city ghetto — 
inadequate housing, poor health 
facilities, widespread unemployment. 
Some statistics: high school dropouts — 
80 per cent of all teenagers; families 
headed by women — 36 per cent; 
families with annual income under 
$3,000 — 27 per cent; unemployment — 
7 per cent; underemployment — 28 per 
cent; infant mortality rate — one of 
highest in country; homicide rate — 
reported as one of highest in country; 
rats — no one has ever counted. (These 
figures are based on the 1960 census. 
It is likely that the 1970 census will 
show no appreciable change.) 

Early in the century Bedford-Stuyvesant 
was a white, upper-middle-class 
community. Residents lived in sturdy 
brownstones, built between 1880 and 
1930, along tranquil tree-lined streets. 
The first wave of black migration 
reached Brooklyn during the 
Depression of the 1930s, and the 
second wave rolled in during World 
War II. War industry jobs were plentiful 
then in the Brooklyn Navy Yard, just a 
few minutes away from the heart of 
Bedford-Stuyvesant. 

Many of the aged buildings are now 
decayed, plaster now falls from walls, 
and roaches and rats run everywhere. 
Bedford-Stuyvesant has no municipal 
hospital, and the area boasts only one 
high school within its boundaries. 

Then in February 1966, the late Senator 
Robert F. Kennedy took a walking tour 
of Bedford-Stuyvesant. Senator 
Kennedy's tour got a lot of publicity, but 
to the residents of the area he was 
just one more in a long procession of 
politicians who walked through their 
misery into newspaper headlines. One 




Lynette Charles Johnson, a resident of 
Bedford-Stuyvesant, models a hostess gown 
from Design Works In Field Museum's 
photography studio. Mrs. Johnson worked 
part-time as a lecturer in zoology In Field 
Museum's Department of Education last 
winter while completing her M.A.T. at the 
University of Chicago. Familiar with Benin 
art even before coming to the Museum, 
Mrs. Johnson taught biology while with the 
Peace Corps for two years In Owo, Nigeria 
— just 75 miles northeast of Benin City. 

community leader put it to Kennedy like 
this: "Senator, we have been studied, 
examined, sympathized with, and 
planned for. What we need now is 
action." 

Kennedy acted. Within eleven months, 
he returned to Bedford-Stuyvesant with 
a program aimed at nothing less than 
the total physical, social, and economic 
rehabilitation of the community. By May 
of 1967 Kennedy's program, backed by 
Senator Jacob K. Javits and Mayor 
John V. Lindsay, was in operation. 



Two nonprofit corporations were 
formed: Bedford-Stuyvesant Restoration 
Corporation, whose twenty-six board 
members are local residents, and 
Bedford-Stuyvesant Development and 
Services Corporation, whose 
twelve-man board is drawn from the 
nation's business establishment. 
Franklin A. Thomas, a lifelong resident 
of Bedford-Stuyvesant and a former 
deputy police commissioner and former 
assistant U.S. attorney from the 
southern district of New York, was hired 
as president and executive director of 
Restoration Corporation. Eli S. Jacobs, 
an investment banker, took leave of 
absence from White, Weld and 
Company to direct Development and 
Services until a permanent replacement 
could be found. Early in 1968, John 
Doar, former assistant attorney general 
of the civil rights division of the 
Department of Justice, took over the job. 

Restoration Corporation with its staff of 
150 local residents develops and directs 
projects. Development and Services 
Corporation has such business giants 
on the board as IBM chairman Thomas 
Watson, William Paley, chairman of 
CBS, C. Douglas Dillon, former 
Secretary of the Treasury, and Benno C. 
Schmidt, managing partner of J. B. 
Whitney & Co., along with Ethel 
Kennedy, who took her husband's place 
on the board. They raise funds, 
generate ideas, bring in new 
businesses, and provide technical 
expertise in administration. 

These two corporations working hand 
in hand have produced some 
impressive results in Bedfort-Stuyvesant. 
More than fifty one- to four-family 
brownstone houses have been 
rehabilitated and resold to community 
people at cost. An additional 1,828 
houses have undergone exterior 
renovation. Over 1 ,600 new jobs have 
been created and some 3,000 people 
placed in new or existing jobs. This is 



Bulletin April 1971 




in addition to the work done at four 
Neighborhood Centers through 
programs dealing with health care, 
youth development, sanitation, and 
cultural affairs and education. 

Where does The Design Works of 
Bedford-Stuyvesant come in? It was 
bound to happen — a local firm that 
recognized the importance of Africa as 
a source of inspiration for the designs 
and manufacture of textiles. Restoration 
Corporation produced the idea of a 
textile business to develop talents of 
local residents while at the same time 
helping an ethnic minority give 
expression to its own cultural 
background. In conjunction with 
Development and Services Corporation, 
they raised some $120,000 of the 
venture capital. The First National 
Capital Corporation together with Wall 
Street investors Peter Loeb and Robert 
Tobin contributed amounts adding up to 
$60,000. Another $60,000 was lent by 
the Chemical Bank. 

Mr. IVIark Bethel, president of Design 
Works, considers the fourteen persons 
presently employed by the company as 
the "nucleus, or fiber, for future 
expansion." With the exception of four 
employees in the Print Department, all 
have professional experience in their 
respective areas. 

Briefly, this is how the operation works. 
Using African art as inspiration (in the 
case of this first collection, Field 
Museum's Benin bronzes), patterns are 
designed and coordinated. The design 
is then sent out to be photographed 
and made into a silkscreen, which 
consists of material stretched on a 
heavy wooden frame on which the 
design has been stenciled and the 
areas which are to remain white painted 
with some substance, such as gum or 
shellac, which will make the material 
impervious to the ink used. When the 
screen is returned to Design Works for 
reproduction, it is placed in contact 
with the fabric to be printed and a 
puddle of ink is scraped from one end 



Bulletin April 1971 




Too valuable to be included in the traveling 
exhibit of The Afro-American Style, Field 
Museum's original Benin bronzes have been 
reproduced in fiber glass casts. Here, John 
Harris, preparator in the Museum's 
Department of Geology, removes the fiber 
glass cast of a bronze cock from the mold. 
The original Benin bronze cock is at left. 

to the other by means of a rubber 
squeegee. The design is reproduced 
on the cloth as the color is forced 
through the pores of the screen in areas 
not blocked out by the gum or shellac. 
One design can require as many as 
four or five screens, one for each color 
in the pattern. It is a hand process and 
gives a precise, clear pattern. 

Various w/elghts of cotton are used for 
the majority of the textiles, from 
sailcloth for drapery and upholstery 
material to butterfly net for sheer 
curtains. In addition, three vi^eights of 
silk are used, primarily for boutique 
Items such as ties, scarves, and some 
apparel. The colorist for Design Works 
mixes all of the more than forty colors 
to print on the fabric. Printing is done 



on three thirty-yard-long tables. The 
large screens require two-man teams. 
Daily output is about 500 yards. 

If the response of major department 
stores across the nation can be used as 
a gauge. Design Works is well on its 
way to success. It markets its products 
in Its own boutique shops — one located 
on the premises at 1 1 New York Avenue 
and another on the upper East Side of 
Manhattan — as well as In key stores 
across the country. Including W. J. 
Sloane in Washington and New York, 
Bloomingdale's in New York, Marshall 
Field in Chicago, Woodward and 
Lothrop in Washington, D.C., and I. 
Magnin In California. 

"Our goal," says Bethel, "Is to seek out 
and develop the black talents of the 
community, it is projected that 
eventually Design Works will employ 
250 persons." 

Two hundred fifty jobs in a sea of 
one-half million people may not sound 
like much, but when you multiply 
Design Works by the fifty other local 
businesses started through Restoration 
Corporation and consider that all 
employees are local residents pouring 
their money back into the community, 
the picture takes on another complexion. 
The people of Bedford-Sluyvesant, with 
a helping hand from big business, have 
that proverbial bootstrap In hand and 
they're pulling hard. 

Joseph Coles, a former laundry truck 
driver and now production foreman in 
Design Works print shop, sums it up 
like this: "Businesses like The Design 
Works of Bedford-Stuyvesant aid 
everyone. I feel it builds community 




closeness, an interest in the community 
and bettering it. Like most depressed 
areas, work Is hard to obtain here. 
Bedford-Stuyvesant Is not industrial, 
and many people have to go out of the 
borough to Manhattan to get work. 
Once we and other businesses like us 
get established, it will be more 
convenient for residents of the area to 
get work. A mother who wants to work, 
for example, must travel to Manhattan 
and can't be home with her children at 
lunch. If she could find work in the 
borough, a fifteen-minute ride home 
would enable her to prepare lunch for 
her children." Coles views his job In 
Design Works as "hard work but work 
you can see the end results of. It's 
something you've had a hand in," he 
says, "and you know that you did It 
with your utmost ability." 

The Afro-American Style from The 
Design Works of Bedford-Stuyvesant 
will remain at Field Museum through 
September 21. Field Museum's chief 
exhibit designer Ben Kozak designed 
the exhibit so It can easily be 
disassembled to travel and, if funding 
can be obtained, it will travel around 
the state of Illinois In the fall. In the 
meantime, ten smaller traveling 
exhibits have also been prepared. 
These will be displayed in community 
centers in Chicago's Inner city through 
spring and summer. 

A museum Is not often recognized as a 
resource that can stimulate combined 
artistic and economic development. 
This function, among our many, applies 
directly to some of our contemporary 
problems. 



Joyce Zibro is editor of the Field Museum 
Bulletin and Public Relations Manager. 



Bulletin April 1971 




MEMBERS' NIGHTS MAY 6 AND 7 

OPEN HOUSE FROM 6:00 TO 10:00 P.M. 



Members' Nights, 1971, feature "The World Around Us." Each night will be a full, 
identical program of special exhibits, films, entertainment, and demonstrations 
focusing on this theme. Something will be happening on all four floors every moment. 

You can 

learn about how Important color is for plants and animals in their struggle for 
evolutionary survival. 

go fossil-hunting (by a film) in Illinois for Pennsylvanian concretions with a staff 
geologist. 

preview the reinstallation of Malvina Hoffman's famous sculptures of people 
from various parts of the world, "Portraits of Man." 

see (and even buy) modern Afro-American style textiles with silk-screened 
designs inspired by the Museum's Benin bronzes from Nigeria. 

shop for jewelry, textiles and coffee in "Tiendacita Guatemalteca" (a little 
Guatemalan store). 

follow the "Search for Some of Nature's Surprises" (arranged especially for 

children). 

see four films: "Patterns for Survival" (A Study of Mimicry), "Fossils: From Site to 
Museum, " "Malvina Hoffman: Her Travels and Works," and "Color in Flowers" 
(a slide-lecture). 

— and this is most fascinating to many people — go behind the scenes in 

research areas and meet the scientific staff. Some of the special offerings by the 
departments of anthropology, botany, geology and zoology, in addition to those 
shown in the photographs, include: 

a display of pottery recently collected in Nigeha 

a continuing discussion by staff members: "The Botanical Library 
and its uses" 

a display interpreting "Faults and Earthquakes" 

an exhibit explaining the "Water Supply of Chicago" 

an exhibit of skeletal materials used to make articles of personal 
adornment from around the world, together with specimens of the 
finished product and photographs of the live animals. 

Our membership has been growing, and so has the popularity of this once-a-year 
event arranged just for members. Attendance has gone from 3,000 in 1966, and 
4,500 in 1968 to 8,500 in 1970. That is why this year's program will be a two-night 
instead of a one-night-stand. Attendance on Friday night will probably be much 
heavier because families with children will prefer to come then. We urge you to 
plan on coming Thursday night if you don't have school children. 

Photos, top to bottom. "Fossil Show and Tell," (or bring your own coal-age fossils and 
match them with ours!) with Dr. Eugene S. Richardson, Jr., curator of fossil invertebrates. 
Department of Geology. Left, Department of Botany herbarium assistant Ronald Liesner 
demonstrates how plant material is prepared for the herbarium. Right, Melvin A. Traylor, 
associate curator of birds, Department of Zoology, shows part of the Museum's Birds of 
Paradise collection. Mrs. Christine Danziger, conservator. Department of Anthropology, tells 
about one of the Haida model houses from the Northwest Coast, collected in the late 19th 
century. Mrs. Danziger is responsible for the architectural reconstruction and preservation of 
the polychrome sculpture of these houses. Mario Villa, tanner, Department of Zoology, and 
some of the animal skins he will show Museum members. 



Bulletin April 1971 



The White Flowered Bottle Gourd 



Louis O. Williams 



Of all the plants useful to man, 
Lagenaria siceraria (N/lol.) Standley 
must surely be one whose usefulness 
is most obvious from just a glance. 
Its common English name — bottle gourd 
— succinctly suggests this usefulness. 
When the fruit of the plant is functioning 
as a utensil, it is usually called calabash 
— calabaza in Spanish-speaking 
countries of America. 

In spite of its obvious usefulness, 
sometimes the plant is not even 
Included in works on economic botany, 
that branch concerned with the kinds 
of plants "useful" to man. The whole 
range of economic plants has been 
subdivided into categories in about as 
many ways as there have been authors 
writing about them. The four categories 
set up by Dr. Albert F. Hill in his 
volume entitled Economic Botany, for 
Instance, are: Industrial Plants and 
Plant Products, Drug Plants and Drugs, 
Food Plants, and Food Adjuncts. 
The bottle gourd does not seem to fit 
into any of the four — and indeed it is 
not mentioned in the book. 

We assume that the bottle gourd 
originated in the Old World, although 
Linnaeus, when he described the plant 
in 1753, presumed that it was American. 
Alphonse de Gandolle's Origin of 
Cultivated Plants Is still one of the best 
sources on the origin of useful plants 
(my copy is the English edition of 1884). 
De Candolle believed the literature to 
indicate that the gourd was native to or 
at least wild in Africa and from there 
spread to the rest of the tropical world. 
He did not believe that the plant 
existed in America before the arrival 
of Europeans. We know now, however, 
that it was in America and widely 
dispersed here long before European 
man arrived. 

Dr. Richard MacNeish has just sent 
word in a personal communication of 
much the oldest radio-carbon date for 
any New World bottle gourd material: 
"Two pieces of probably wild Lagenaria 
in Ayacucho [Peru] complex, dated 
12,200 B.C." This evidence does not 




Carved gourd. Yoruba tribe, Oyo, Nigeria. 
Collected 1970. 

of course imply human use, although it 
is now believed that man may have 
arrived in Peru at about the same 
time. 

The oldest known New World bottle 
gourds associated with human use, 
excavated in the Ocampo Caves in the 
Mexican state of Tamaulipas, have 
been dated at about 7000 B.C. by the 
carbon-dating technique. Both the Old 
and the New World have yielded 
evidence from the fourth millennium 
B.C. Specimens have been found in an 
Egyptian tomb of the Fifth Dynasty, and 
Junius B. Bird found abundant material 
in the Huaca Prieta midden in Peru in 
strata dated at about 2500 B.C. 
Thousands of fragments indicated 
various uses, and intact gourds attached 
to fishing nets indicated that they 
had been used for floats, as they still 
are today. 

If as a hunter and fisherman prehistoric 
man migrated to the New World from 
Asia across the Bering Sea, which is 
the present widely held belief, it would 
have been virtually impossible for him 
to have brought the bottle gourd, or 
any other plant, with him. The regions 
he had to traverse were far too harsh 
and the time span, measured in human 
generations, far too long for any plant 
life to have moved with him, for it 
would have to have been propagated 
along the way. The only commensals 
or companions that could have 



accompanied man on this great trek 
were probably his dogs, which, like 
man, can sustain themselves on a 
purely hunting and fishing diet. 

When man from Asia did reach an area 
far enough south to meet the bottle 
gourd plant in its preferred habitat, no 
doubt he quickly discovered these 
fruits which can be such useful 
containers for many things. And no 
doubt he — or, perhaps, she — began 
selecting gourds by shape and size. 
One for a water bottle, one for a float 
for a fish net, one to make into a cup, 
and so on. He may have merely 
exploited different shapes of the gourd 
or he may have helped to establish 
different shapes by his picking and 
choosing. Most likely, a little of both 
happened. In any event, we do have 
many types today, in both the New 
World and the Old World. 

But do we have a single species in the 
two hemispheres or are two different 
species improperly covered by the 
name Lagenaria siceraria? To prove 
the point one way or the other would 
require a considerable amount of field 
work and garden cultivation and study. 




Group of eight fishnet floats dating from 
about 1600 B.C. found together with fishnet 
of cotton cord at Huaca Prieta on the shore 
at the mouth of the Chicama Valley, Peru. 
At same excavation site, pieces of same 
type gourd found at bottom of deposit dated 
from about 2500 B.C. Photo by Dr. Junius B. 
Bird courtesy American Museum of Natural 
History. 



Bulletin April 1971 



No modern scientific study of the 
systennatics of Lagenaria has been 
published. Dr. Alfred Cogniaux, the last 
and great monographer of the cucurbit 
family, considered all the bottle gourds 
to be a single species that were native 
to tropical Africa and India but were 
then (1881) found over the rest of the 
tropical world, either cultivated or 
growing at the edges of disturbed land. 
Botanists invariably complain, and I 
among them, that they never have 
sufficient material or knowledge about 
a plant or a group of plants under 
study. This is especially true of plants 
used by man. 

If two species are involved, they would 
have arisen independently of one 
another in the two hemispheres. The 
improbabilities are enormous that such 
close convergence would have 
occurred, though convergence is a well 
known biological phenomenon — that 
is, two different and geographically 
separated lines of evolutionary descent 
becoming like each other. 

It seems to me more reasonable to 
assume that only one species is 
involved and that the plant arrived in 
America a very long time ago. How, 
then, did it get here from the other 
hemisphere? There seem to be two 
possibilities: it drifted across an ocean 
by itself, or it was carried in a manned 
or empty canoe. 

Mature bottle gourds are very durable, 
and they are light in weight and float 
easily. Dr. Thomas Whitaker and 
Dr. George F. Carter in "A Note on 
Longevity of Seed of Lagenaria 
siceraria (Mol.) Standi, after Floating in 
Sea Water" (1961) reported that after 
they floated bottle gourd fruits for 347 
days and then stored them for six 
years, 24 per cent of the seeds finally 
germinated. These tests indicate that 
Lagenaria siceraria fruits could have 
been distributed from continent to 
continent by oceanic drift. Of course 
there is still no proof that they did. 

Whitaker and Carter point out that the 
bottle gourd is not a strand plant. 




Even if gourds had been transported 
by oceanic drift, they would have to 
have been carried from the place where 
stranded to a suitable ecological niche. 
I would point out that such a "suitable 
ecological niche" often occurs in the 
disturbed land right behind a strand. 

I like the drift theory better than the 
transport theory because it seems to me 
probable that this interesting plant 
established itself in the New World a 
very long time before man did. The 
ocean currents that wash the western 
side of Africa flow west and wash the 
eastern side of South America. (The 
currents on the western side mostly 
flow outward toward the Pacific basin.) 
Hence the possibility of gourds drifting 
over from Africa has existed for 
perhaps hundreds of thousands of 
years. It seems to me probable that 
they did so many times. If they were 
transported in man-made craft, they 
could hardly have come over more 
than 15,000 years ago, and probably 
a lot more recently. Whatever sea-going 
craft man might have made that long 
ago could hardly have sustained the 
trip. 

There is the argument that, if the 
bottle gourd is so old here, we should 
find it growing wild. I would reply that 
much field experience in the tropics 



has taught me that it is difficult to look 
at a plant and be sure whether or not 
it is "wild." Lagenaria siceraria does 
like disturbed land, such as at the 
edges of cultivation. But land behind 
a strand is also disturbed, and not 
necessarily by human beings. Also, 
there are several other cucurbits that 
are useful to man which no one doubts 
are native to America but which have 
never, to my knowledge, been seen as 
"wild" plants. They too are found in 
archaeological midden heaps. 

Thus the category "useful plants," 
which may be as old as man himself, 
does not mean that the movement of 
such plants is necessarily associated 
with man. One of man's blessings is his 
imagination — which includes his ability 
to recognize a good thing when he 
sees it. The bottle gourd is such an 
obviously "good thing." It is easy to 
believe that wherever and whenever he 
found it, man would soon begin to 
use it. 



Dr. Louis 0. Williams is chairman ol the 
Department ol Botany at Field Museum. 



Bulletin April 1971 



Hidden color pattern in fossil shells 



Katherine Krueger 



Modern species of seashells display 
distinctive colors, shapes, and surface 
ornamentation. Ivlost buried sfiells, 
during the processes of fossilization, 
become dull white. With rare 
exceptions, even the most perfectly 
preserved fossil specimens lack color. 
Therefore paleontologists have had to 
rely on the small variations of 
ornamentation and sculpture to 
differentiate species within the larger 




mm 

,....:'.v:f.'.'.f!: 



Top to bottom: Conus spurius (Recent or 

modern), Conus spurius (fossil), Conus 

spurius (fossil under ultraviolet light). 



groups, unaided by the additional factor 
of color pattern that helps biologists 
classify the often brightly colored living 
forms. 

Some groups of shells may occur in 
both modern and fossil collections, 
since many present-day molluscan 
families were already in existence as 
much as 70 million years ago. So that 
the relationship between modern and 
fossil specimens can be firmly 
established — the true evolution of a 
species traced — the paleontologist 
studying the Ice Age or older shells 
would like to use the same guidelines as 
the biologists. In the last ten years one 
such guideline, the color pattern, has 
been developed. Some fossil shells 
will, under ultraviolet light, show 
fluorescence wherever former 
coloration occurred on the shell. Thus 
the paleontologist can observe a color 
pattern almost as readily as can a 
biologist. 

This fluorescence phenomenon is being 
actively investigated by Drs. Harold E. 
and Emily H. Vokes at Tulane University 
in New Orleans and by Dr. Axel A. 
Olsson of Coral Gables, Florida. They 
have worked out techniques for 
photographing the shells under 
ultraviolet light and are using the color 
patterns as important, definitive data in 
their studies. tVlost of their research 
has been on fossil shells of the 
southeastern United States from the 
dawn of the Tertiary, approximately 70 
million years ago, to Recent time. 
fVlany correlations had previously been 
drawn between fossil species and their 
Recent relatives, but evolutionary paths 
of groups have always been littered 
with problems of "missing links" or 
poor specimens. Every new method of 
establishing a relationship between 
shells of different geologic epochs is 
welcome. The fluorescence 
phenomenon promises to be a highly 
significant method. 

What one sees under the ultraviolet 
light is not really the color, but rather 
the color pa»em of a shell. It was 
Alex Comfort who, only 20 years ago. 



10 



Bulletin April 1971 




pointed out that when a living mollusk 
secretes shell material from its mantle 
it introduces pigmentation into certain 
zones of the developing shell. The 
pigment-producing cells, called 
chromatophores, vary in position. As 
their position changes, the pigmented 
zones they produce narrow or expand 
into stripes. If the chromatophores 
move back and forth, zigzags appear. 
Intermittent activity of the 
chromatophores produces a series of 
dots. A continuous band of the cells 
produces the background color of a 
shell. The location of these 
chromatophores and their range of 
movement are determined by the 
genetic code of a species. The patterns 
they make constitute as distinctive a 
feature as the various ridges, nodes, or 
whorls of a shell, although often they 
are highly variable within a species. 

The actual color produced by these 
chromatophores, which we don't see 
under ultraviolet light, usually is not 
significant for taxonomists, since the 
animal's diet can influence the color of 
its shell, and its growth rate can affect 
the intensity of this color. Therefore, 
the color patterns that we do see under 
ultraviolet light in some cases convey 
more useful information than the actual 
colors of the shells, which we don't see. 

Under ultraviolet light the patterns 



appear to glow against a purple 
background. This fluorescence occurs 
when the ultraviolet light excites certain 
electrons in the pigment molecules, 
which are still locked in the shell 
material. Though these pigments were 
rendered colorless by chemical 
alteration after burial because of the 
action of ground water, their basic 
molecules are still there. 

But the shell must be properly prepared 
before the ultraviolet light will reveal 
the position of the pigment. Many 
shells naturally exposed to sunlight on 
the fossil outcrop for a length of time 
will, without any further treatment, 
fluoresce under ultraviolet light. Shells 
that have remained buried since their 
original deposition millions of years ago 
will fluoresce if first soaked in strong 
laundry bleach for a minimum of three 
days. In some cases the bleach will 
even produce a rust-colored pattern 
where the pigmented regions occur. 

Probably the ultraviolet light technique 
reveals the position of only certain 
pigments and not others. But this kind 
of research is very new, and its full 
capabilities have yet to be learned. It is 
an exciting new tool for tracing the 
ancestry of living mollusks in fossil 
specimens. 

Katherine Krueger is assistant in paleontology 
in Field Museum's Department of Geology. 



Left to right: Scaphella junonia (Recent or 
modern), Scaphella floridana (fossil). 
Scaphella floridana (fossil under ultraviolet 
light). Photos courtesy Drs. Harold E. and 
Emily H. Vokes, Tulane University, 
Department of Geology. 



Bulletin April 1971 



11 



How 

an exhibit 

is made — Color in Nature 



What is behind the Museum's 
presentation of a new exhibit like Color 
in Nature in Hall 25, which was opened 
to the public March 11? 

It started as one item among many 
in a list of suggested 1971 exhibits 
assembled early in 1970 by Solomon 
Smith, the Museum's coordinator of 
temporary exhibits. It emerged as one 
of the four selected by the Museum's 
ten-man exhibit committee — composed 
of the director, chairmen of the four 
divisions (anthropology, botany, 
geology, zoology), chairman of the 
education dpartment, planning and 
development officer, building 
superintendent, business manager, and 
chairman of the exhibition department. 

It was among those chosen because 
color, as one of the fundamental 
dimensions of nature, is also one of the 
main dimensions of the Museum's 
collections. We know that the 
evolutionary function of color in plants 
and animals is often a critical aspect of 
their total character. We are aware of 
color in inanimate nature, but little 
more than some physical facts about 
how it is produced are understood. 

The choice and execution of the 
Color in Nature exhibit demonstrates 
two exciting modern ideas in operation. 

Assistant graphic designer Kathleen 
Kuhlman. 





Bob Martin, designer of the exhibit. 

One is about the nature of learning, 
and one is about the art of design. 

Old ideas about both learning and 
design usually involved static facts or 
objects or pieces. New ideas about 
both involve a sense of dynamic flow. 
For instance, knowledge was often 
thought of as accumulation of facts — 
orderly, but in an essentially 
encyclopedic kind of order. "Furniture 
of the mind" was a favorite metaphor, 
but it did not mean the kind of 
comfortable furniture that invites one to 
slouch in it with shoes off. Knowledge 
is now more often thought of as systems 
and subsystems of relationships with 
which we interact. Unless "pieces" of 
information can be assimilated into 
patterns, little "learning" occurs. 

Similarly, the old concept of design was 
based on arrangement of static 
elements around an axis, a kind of 
"middle," so as to produce a sense of 
equilibrium or symmetry. Design was 
often thought of as decoration for its 
own sake, to satisfy an esthetic 
appetite. Design is now more often 
thought of as a means to improve the 
effectiveness of communication and the 
flow of information. 

Both of these new ideas are rooted in 
the fast, complex flow of modern 



Lothar P. Witteborg 

industrial "mass" society. And both 
ideas represent challenge within the 
walls of a natural history museum as 
much as in the "outside world." A 
natural history museum is now an 
essential part of the mass education 
framework necessary to support a 
modern society. It must certainly 
continue to develop further its capacity 
to generate new knowledge and 
understanding through research, but its 
unique responsibility — different from 
that of all other institutions in our 
society — is to make knowledge about 
our natural world concrete, accessible, 
and understandable to everyone. A 
museum is truly the most public of all 
educational institutions. The challenge 
is to educate by conveying 
understanding of the patterns of these 
complex, dynamic interrelationships. 

The design of nature is a dynamic flow 
with many dimensions. Our designs for 
explaining it in exhibits must flow too 
and must combine as much concrete 
demonstration as possible with only as 
much abstract explanation in words as 
necessary. The whole must create a 
synthesis of visual appeal to both the 
emotions (by its interest) and the mind 
(by its logic). 

To attempt to achieve such a grand 
goal, exhibit designers must think first, 

Exhibition Department illustrator 
Zbigniew T. Jastrzebski. 




12 



Bulletin April 1971 



work later. They must thoroughly 
understand the Information content and 
all the interrelationships in order to find 
the "storyline" pattern around which 
they can build to satisfy the three 
fundamental design principles — function, 
flow, and form. 

In the case of Color in Nature, the 
Museum's first sizable interdisciplinary 
exhibit, the several "storylines" worked 
up by each of the scientific staff 
concerned had to be woven together. 
The exhibit is probably the most 
comprehensive assemblage of 
information about color in nature that 
has yet been attempted anywhere. 
Rupert L. Wenzel, chairman of the 
Department of Zoology, was the overall 
scientific coordinator; Donald Simpson 
contributed for Botany; Edward J. Olsen 
for Minerals; Melvin A. Traylor for Birds; 
Hymen Marx for Amphibians and 
Reptiles; Loren P. Woods for Fish; 
Alan Solem for Invertebrates; Philip 
Hershkovitz for Mammals; and John 
Kethley for Insects. 

Bob Martin of the Exhibition Department, 
assigned to the project as main 
designer, and Solomon Smith did 
extensive background reading in the 
subject matter and met frequently with 
the scientists as a general plan for the 

Bob Martin and student helper Dale Lehman 
install some of the larger specimens first. 





A segment of the finished exhibit. 

exhibit took shape. Eventually a rough 
scale model was made that divided the 
available space in Hall 25 into broad 
subject areas and a visitor flow path. 

The designer always has these 
performance standards in mind: (1) to 
provide visual interest to gain attention 
and start the viewer's eye moving; (2) 
to simplify visual representation and 
organization for speed in viewing, 
reading, and understanding; and (3) to 
provide visual continuity for clarity in 
sequence. To satisfy these criteria in 
the realm of museum exhibition design, 
we divide the design problem into two 
distinct areas of specialty. The 
three-dimensional, or exhibit, designer 
works with space and structure plus 
color and lighting. The graphic designer 
works with one-dimensional forms, 
color, typography, and projected visual 
images (in this case, slides). The two 
specialists must work in close harmony 
in order to achieve the desired results. 
Don Skinner came into the project as 
graphic designer at this stage, when the 
general spatial arrangement of the 
exhibit and the specific areas of content 
were being tied down. 

After decisions were made about the 
specimens and objects to be used, we 
needed also the specialized artistic and 
technical skills of the illustrator, the 



model maker, the sculptor, the 
taxidermist, the audio-visual expert, 
and numerous other specialists. 

Most of the specimens chosen were 
rather small, so Bob Martin had to 
develop a method to protect them that 
would not interfere with easy viewing or 
would not distract from the storyline 
continuity. The solution was to place the 
specimens behind a large expanse of 
glass that did not determine or in any 
way interfere with the way they were 
arranged and displayed and that did 
not seem to be a barrier to viewers. 

Photographs were taken of 
supplementary items, graphic panels 
were prepared, and hundreds of 35 mm. 
color transparencies were edited. 
Eventually the specimens to be used 
were removed from various halls in the 
Museum and placed in their new 
temporary setting in Hall 25. 

The composite result drew upon all the 
new forms of visual communication 
technique, which newspapers, 
magazines, television, and even 
packaging have, in fact, pioneered and 
learned to exploit for the purpose of 
mass selling to a mass society. Our 
purpose is to transmit information by 
means of every appropriate visual mode 
simultaneously, and to do it simply, 
clearly, and fast. This purpose can be 
achieved only by design, good 
"information design" — which doesn't 
just happen by accident. Sure formulas, 
smart gimmicks, short-lived fads like 
"Cadillac tail fins" or novelty type faces 
have no place. The principles of 
information design being developed 
today are a response to a need of 
modern society. They aim always and 
above all for comprehension. 

When the final installation of Color in 
Nature was completed, the scientific 
staff had logged over 500 man-hours 
and the Exhibition Department over 
2,000 man-hours. Design is expensive, 
but we know now that it is necessary. 

Lothar P. Witteborg is chairman of the 
Exhibition Department at Field Museum . 



Bulletin April 1971 



13 



"t- V n- 

ILL ! 






;: 



Superhighway-Superhoax 

By Helen Leavitt. New York, Ballantine 
Books, 1971. 311 pp. $.95 

There can be few arguments with any of 
the statements of Helen Leavitt in 
Superhighway — Superhoax. or with the facts 
she draws upon to support them. Urban 
transportation, she says, is sinking into a 
morass of higher public transportation costs, 
lower quality and service, and greater 
street and highway congestion. In 1907, 
horse and buggy travel in New York City 
averaged 11.5 mph; in 1966, motor vehicle 
travel averaged 8.5 mph. 

Homes and businesses continue to be 
paved over with expressways, interchanges, 
and parking lots. A 1966 relocation study 
through the Federal Highway Act predicted 
that between 1967 and 1970, 146,950 
additional persons, 16,679 business and 
non-profit organizations, and 4,890 farms 
would be uprooted. 

Air pollution — 60 percent produced by 
internal combustion engines — continues to 
rise to more and more intolerable levels. 
Carbon monoxide concentrations commonly 
reach peaks in metropolitan rush-hour 
points of 100 parts-per-million and more, 
enough to cause headaches, physiologically 
impair vision, and affect the heart and lungs. 
Lead content in blood for metropolitan 
dwellers averages 2.5 parts-per-million or 
one-third the way to "classical lead 
poisoning," as defined by the U.S. Public 
Health Service. Tests of traffic policemen 
and toll-booth operators in Europe have 
recorded concentrations significantly above 
the threshhold level for lead poisoning. 

The "urban sprawl" of parasitic suburbs is 
crippling the central city that it feeds upon, 
by draining the core city's lax base and 
sharply decreasing downtown retail 
business. More than 60 percent of the land 
in the central business district of the 
nation's capital is devoted currently to the 
moving and storage of automobiles. The 



majority of this land is nontaxable. At the 
same time, suburban residents find that 
they are driving more and everyone is 
enjoying it less. 

Everyone is suffering the consequences of 
noncomprehensive urban planning. Charles 
Haar of the U.S. Department of Housing 
and Urban Development is quoted: "It is 
difficult for the poor central city resident 
without an automobile to persuade himself 
that a new superhighway which he will 
not use, but which requires him to pull 
up roots and find a new home, is a 
beneficial improvement — particularly if the 
alternative modes of transportation he 
depends upon, buses or subways, give 
increasingly poorer service at higher costs " 
And from Professor Ian McHarg, 
University of Pennsylvania: ". . . the 
problem about highways is [that] we permit 
engineers to have a profound effect upon 
cities and, in fact, design them." 

What is the underlying cause for "highway 
planning" of the cities — indeed, of the 
nation? The purpose of the book is to 
answer this question by demonstrating how 
an overemphasis of national economic 
priorities on highway transportation has 
loaded the transportation balance almost to 
the point of excluding alternative modes 
of transportation. "Since 1956 American 
taxpayers have spent $196 billion in 
federal, state and local taxes on highway 
construction. In the same period, we spent 
a total of $33 billion for all other modes, 
including the Coast Guard." In 1956, with 
the passage of the Highway Act, two of 
the commitments made were these: $27 
billion for 90 percent federal funding of the 
41,000 miles of interstate highway (this 
figure was raised to $41 billion within two 
years); and establishment of the Highway 
Trust Fund (to expire in 1972), which 
funnelled all federal taxes on motor vehicles, 
gasoline, and ancillary equipment into a 
special account "to meet those obligations 
of the United States incurred under the 
Federal-Aid Road Act attributable to 
federal-aid highways." An interlocking web 
of special interest groups supported this 
measure and have subsequently acted to 
protect the Highway Trust Fund from any 
encroachment by proponents of other 
transportation systems: "auto manufacturers, 
labor unions, engineers, road contractors, 
truckers, steel, rubber and petroleum 
producers, busline and highway officials, 
and congressmen." 

If any criticism could be levelled at Helen 
Leavitt's book, it would be the extent to 
which she dwells on this conglomerate 
"highway lobby," which she calls the 
■Road Gang." Two complete chapters 
(4 and 5) and extensive portions of the rest 
of the book deal with this group, which 



emerges as being far more extensive, 
complex, and interlocking than even the 
highway systems which it promotes. 
Needless to say. the "Road Gang" is 
demonstrated to be extremely powerful. 
Senator Tydings of Maryland wrote to one 
of his complaining constituents: "We must 
recognize the fact that for all practical 
purposes the industries and interests 
constituting what is commonly known as 
"the highway lobby" have sufficient political 
influence to prevent any diversion of the 
highway trust fund before the completion 
of the present interstate highway program." 

Mrs. Leavitt concludes her book with some 
suggestions for positive action. She 
recommends banning automobiles from 
certain core-city areas; instituting 
tax-supported free public transportation; 
applying the full resources of modern 
technology to development of efficient, 
quality public transportation; and levying 
tolls on autos entering the city. (To elaborate 
on the last, I suggest a toll system which 
computes charges in direct proportion to 
horsepower, or in inverse proportion to the 
number of passengers, or both.) 

All of these suggestions follow from the 
observation that the transportation system 
creates its own demand much more than the 
demand creates the system. The consumer 
uses what is available, particularly when 
he has no practicable choice. 

The book Superhighway — Superhoax is a 
persuasive outgrowth of Helen Leavitt's 
effective actions in Washington. DC. to stop 
construction of a freeway destined to 
replace her home and neighborhood. Mrs. 
Leavitt has mobilized her data with great 
ability as well as conviction. 



by Jonathan Taylor, coordinator of N.W. 
Harris Extension, Department of Education, 
Fietd Museum. 



14 



Bulletin April 1971 




Large Piece of Rare Meteorite Found 



Museum Acquires Rare Shell 

Acquisition of a perfect specimen of Conus 
gloriamaris. the most famous sea sfieil and 
one of the world's rarest, was made possible 
recently through the generosity of Mr. and 
Mrs. Arthur Moulding. 

Although first described in 1777 and 
represented by about 25 specimens in 
Europe prior to 1800, only four additional 
specimens were found between 1800 and 
1957. 

Since 1957, living specimens have been 
collected in waters off the Philippines, the 
Bismarck Archipelago and the Solomon 
Islands. 

This beautiful shell, approximately four 
inches long, will be on display in the South 
Lounge May 17 through July 11. 

Tours to Scandinavia, India and 
Ceylon, Africa 

Field Museum's Worldwide Natural History 
Tours will visit Scandinavia, June 8-July 2, 
India and Ceylon in October, and in 1972 
two tour groups will visit Africa, January 14- 
February 6, and February 11 -March 5. 

A slide lecture on the India and Ceylon tour 
will be given by Tours Chief Phil Clark at 
8 p.m. on Friday, June 4 in the Field 
Museum lecture hall. Mr. Clark is presently 
in India preparing the tour. 

The African tours will visit Nigeria, Cameroun 
(featuring the Sultanate of Bamoun), and 
Kenya. In Kenya, the January group will 
visit Tsavo, Lake Nakuru, and Nairobi game 
reserves. The February group will visit 
Samburu, Lake Nakuru, and Nairobi game 
reserves. 

Information on the tours may be obtained 
by writing Natural History Tours, Field 
Museum, Roosevelt Road at Lake Shore 
Drive, Chicago 60605, or by telephoning 
922-9410 and asking for the Natural History 
Tours office. 




Dr. Edward J. Olsen. curator of mineralogy 
in the Museum's Department ol Geology, 
holds a 103 pound mass ol a rare iron 
meteorite called Campo del Cielo. The 
meteorite is 4 billion, 550 million years old 
and originally weighed about 15 tons. Pieces 
ranging from a tew pounds up to a tew 
tons in weight have been lound scattered 
over several square miles in the Gran 
Chaco Region ol Argentina. The meteorite 
was first found in the year 1576 by Spanish 
explorers. This particular piece, discovered 
by Dr. T. Bunch of NASA's research 
lacility at Ames Research Center, 
Moflett Field, California, is a new find. 
Most ol the larger pieces ol this meteorite 
were found long ago. Dr. Bunch and 
Dr. Olsen have been working together tor 
nearly five years on rare iron meteorites of 
this type. 

This piece, shipped from Argentina by Dr. 
Bunch, has been cut into several slices by 
International Harvester Co. in Hinsdale. 
Dr. Olsen sought the aid of International 
Harvester because their heavy industrial 
shops in Hinsdale had metal-cutting saws 
capable ol slicing such large pieces of iron. 
The purpose of slicing is to provide 
specimens lor research and exhibit. 

Society for Economic Botany Meeting 

The Society for Economic Botany will hold 
its annual meeting and symposium in the 
Field Museum lecture hall April 25-28. 
Dr. Louis O, Williams, chairman of the 
Department of Botany and a founding 
member of the international organization, is 
coordinator of the meeting. 

The members of The Society for Economic 
Botany are interested in all aspects of man's 



uses of plants — for foods, for drugs, and for 
industrial purposes. 

All meetings of the Society will be held in 
Field Museum with the exception of the final 
meeting which will be held at Morton 
Arboretum on April 28. A symposium 
entitled "Search for and Introduction of 
Economic Plants," to be participated in by 
eleven well known plant scientists, will be 
held on April 27. The meetings on April 26 
and 28 will be given over to research papers 
on many aspects of useful plants. Mr. M. J. 
Wells of the Botanical Research Institute. 
Republic of South Africa is the member 
coming the greatest distance to participate. 
He will give a paper on "Economic Botany 
in South America." 

Famous Potters of San lldefonso 
Honored at Luncheon 




E. Leiand Webber, director ol Field Museum, 
Mr. and Mrs. Joseph F. Estes, and Popovi 
Da (top) and Mrs. Maria Martinez and 
Mrs. Clara Montoya (front) photographed at a 
recent luncheon at the Museum honoring 
Mrs. Martinez and her son, Mr. Da. 

More than fifty years ago, Mrs. Martinez and 
her husband, Julian, began experiments 
that resulted in the renaissance ot pottery 
making at San lldefonso Pueblo in 
New Mexico. Today, she and her son 
continue to make the pottery much as 
their ancestors did. 

In introducing the lamous potters ot San 
lldelonso. Dr. Donald Collier, curator ot 
Middle and South American Archaeology 
and Ethnology, said "They have changed 
and elevated traditional Indian technique and 
style, and have created a new style which 
is yet truly Indian. Their achievement 
epitomizes the history of the Pueblo peoples 
and cultures in this century and during the 
past 400 years " 



Bulletin April 1971 



15 



LETTERS 



To the editor: 

I thought that matter of the wild horses was 
under control, and I was very distressed 
to read this article about them in the 
February Bulletin. What can one do to help 
the brave Mrs. Velma Johnston? 

Karl Menninger, M.D. 

Mrs. Velma Johnston replies: 

Thank you for your interest and concern in 
behalf of the wild horses of America. 

There are now so many protective bills 
concerning wild horses being introduced in 
Congress, there is little that can be done to 
further the cause during this interim 
between introduction and committee 
assignment. 

As soon as a decision is made concerning 
which bills the International Society for 
the Protection of Mustangs and Burros 
(ISPMB) will support, bill numbers are 
designated, and the names obtained of 
committees to which the bills are assigned, 
a directive will be sent out informing you 
of the action to be taken. 

I would suggest that you see the January 
1971 issue of National Geographic and, if 
possible, read the book. Mustang, Wild 
Spirit of the West, by Marguerite Henry. 
Miss Hope Ryden has also written a fine 
book on the entire subject — America's 
Last Wild Horses. 

Velma B. Johnston 
President, ISPMB 

Editor's note: 

For our readers who may not be aware of the 
purpose and activities of the International 
Society for the Protection of Mustangs and 
Burros we reprint the following from a 
recent ISPMB news bulletin: 

ISPMB is a non-profit organization having 
as its objective the preservation and 



protection of the wild horses and burros. It is 
devoted to the creation and encouragement 
of an awareness among the people of the 
need for such protection and preservation. 

The first Wild Horse Refuge was set up in 
Nevada where there are about 200 head 
of wild horses on this 435,000-acre Refuge. 
There is also a Wild Burro Refuge in 
Inyo County in California of 3,600,000 acres. 
In September of 1968 the newest Wild 
Horse and Wildlife Range, lying along the 
Montana-Wyoming boarder, was designated 
by the Secretary of the Interior. None of 
these "just happened," but were established 
in response to the pleas of thousands of 
individuals throughout the nation. There 
must be more refuges set up in our Western 
States and laws enacted to provide humane 
and wise control of these wild horses 
and burros that they may receive the 
protection they so richly deserve — a legacy 
for future generations to admire as the 
generations before them have done. 

Additional information about ISPMB may be 
obtained by writing to Mrs. Velma B. 
Johnston, president of ISPMB, at 
140 Greenstone Drive, Reno, Nevada 89502 



To the editor: 

Congratulations to Patricia M. Williams on 
her article on the wild horses in the February 
Bulletin. I have been in correspondence 
with Hope Ryden after her Today show. 

I like the new format of the Bulletin. 

Henry Field 

Department of Anthropology 

Harvard University 

To the editor: 

Having seen occasional copies of your 
magazine during the past few years, I was 
greatly impressed, recently, by the new 
format and by what seemed to be so much 
more interesting, timely articles. It is a 
great improvement, and as a high school 
teacher I would be interested in how a 
school subscription may be obtained. 

Michael E. Goldwasser 
Palfrey Street School 
Watertown, Mass. 

Editor's note: 

A school subscription to the Bulletin may be 
obtained by writing to Publications Office, 
Field Museum of Natural History, 
Roosevelt Rd. at Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, 
III. 60605. Subscription rate for schools 
is $3 a year. 



SCANDINAVIA: 
REFRESHING LANDS OF 
FJORDS & MIDNIGHT SUN 
JUNE 8 - JULY 2, 1971 

$2,405 (INCLUDES A $500 
TAX-DEDUCTIBLE DONATION)^ 

Fjords, outdoor museums, gardens, 
wildflowers, birds, archaeological sites, 
architecture, design, Linnaeus' gardens, 
great cathedrals, historic palaces, 
opera, midnight sun in Lappland, 
reindeer, Bergen, Oslo, Helsinki, Tapiola, 
Lake Inari. Stockholm, Gotland Island, 
Uppsala, Gothenburg, Kattegat, 
Halsingborg, Norrviken, Sofiero, 
Bosjokloster, Lund, Helsinfors, Copenfiagen. 

WRITE: 

FIELD MUSEUM WORLDWIDE 
NATURAL HISTORY TOURS 
ROOSEVELT RD. AT LAKE SHORE DR. 
CHICAGO, ILLINOIS 60605 



summer 
tourr 



16 



Bulletin April 1971 



CALENDAR 



HOURS 

9 a.m. to 5 p.m. Saturday-Thursday 
9 a.m. to 9 p.m. Friday 

The Museum Library is open 9 a.m. to 
4;30 p.m. Monday through Friday 



CONTINUING 

Color In Nature, an exhibit of broad scope, 
explores the nature and variety of color in 
the physical and living world around us, 
and how it functions in plants and animals 
in their struggle for survival, reproduction, 
and evolution. Using specimens from the 
Museum's huge collections, it focuses on 
the many roles of color, as in mimicry, 
camouflage, warning, sexual recognition 
and selection, energy channeling, and 
vitamin production. Hall 25. 

John James Audubon** elephant folio, 
The Birds of America, on display in the 
North Lounge, with a different plate featured 
each day. 

75th Anniversary Exhibit: A Sense of 
Wonder, a Sense of History, A Sense of 
Discovery, continues indefinitely. Field 
Museum's past and present, and some of 
its current research projects are presented 
in a new and exciting way. Hall 3. 

"To See or Not to See," Spring Journey for 
Children, helps them learn about the 
diversity of colors and color patterns of 
selected animals, as well as the advantages 
of mimicry and pigmentation changes, with 
the aid of a questionnaire. All youngsters 
who can read and write may participate in 



the free program. Journey sheets are 
available at Museum entrances. Through 
May 31 . 

A rare, wild albino minic, in a special 
display in the South Lounge. This almost 
adult female specimen is the gift of Terry L 
Perry of Johnston, Iowa, who captured it 
about 16 months ago. Through May 16. 



BEGINS APRIL 7 

The Afro-American Style, From the Design 
Works of Bedford-Stuyvesant, an exhibit of 
hand-printed textiles blending classical 
African motifs and contemporary design. 
The original Benin art from Field Museum's 
collection, which inspired many of these 
designs, is shown in conjunction with the 
textiles. Through September 12. Hall 9. 



BEGINS APRIL 18 

Portrait of the Chippewa, a collection of 
100 photographs edited from over 5,000 
negatives taken on the Red Lake Indian 
reservation in Northern Minnesota. The 
exhibit portrays the Chippewa in his culture 
and shows him in relation to his family and 
his way of life. Through May 15. South 
Lounge. 



Free Spring Children's Programs at 10:30 

a.m., James Simpson Theatre 

April 17 

Color in Nature is the theme of the 
program, which includes a film journey to 
the wilderness country of the American West 
to observe the life and habits of the elk, 
grizzly bear, and mountain sheep. 

April 24 

Museum Traveler Day, with presentation of 
awards to youngsters participating in the 
Journey program. A color motion picture. 



"The Eruption of Kilauea," a dramatic 
documentary of the active Hawaiian volcano, 
follows. 



Spring Rim-Lecture Series, presented at 
2:30 p.m., James Simpson Theatre 

April 17 

"The Right to Live," narrated by C. P 
Lyons. A film using the great outdoors and 
animals in their natural environment as 
subject matter, to stress the need for the 
preservation of wildlife and natural 
resources. 

April 24 

"Adriatic Italy," narrated by Al Wolff. 

A motion picture journey to the little known 

scenic East Coast from Brindisi to Trieste, 

with stops at Rome, Venice and Florence. 

COMING IN MAY 

"Portraits of IMan," a group of sculptures 
by Malvina Hoffman, permanently reinstalled 
in the corridors overlooking Stanley Field 
Hall and in the North and South Lounges 
beginning May 7. These bronze and stone 
sculptures of people from various parts of 
the world are some of the finest 
representations of Malvina Hoffman's work 
in Field Museum's collection. 

A Specimen of the Conus gloriamarls, the 

most famous sea shell and one of the 
world's rarest, shown in the South Lounge 
May 17 through July 11. Acquisition of this 
perfect specimen was made possible 
through the generosity of Mr. and Mrs. 
Arthur Moulding. 



Volume 42, Number 5 May 1971 

Field Museum of Natural History 



BULLETIN 



V V 



J ^ 



^ 



L^ 



'^ 



BULLETIN 



Volume 42, Number 5 
May 1971 




Cover: Color in living forms reveals as often 
as it conceals. Tfie ultimate end is the 
same — perpetuation of tfie species. 



2 Color in Flowers 

William C. Burger and Ronald Liesner 

why many plants Invest a large amount of their energy in flowers 

and color 

5 The Great Frigate Bird 

Melvin A. Traylor 

memories of a flamboyant GalSpagos pirate 

6 Color in Animals 

Rupert L. Wenzel and Solomon A. Smitti 
its many functions in patterns for survival 

1 1 High Hopes to Fallen Dreams 

Alan Solem 

flow two rare and valuable shells differ from several similar but 

common species 

14 Color in the Non-biological World 

Edward J. Olsen 

color is in the physical nature of light as well as in the eye of the 

beholder 



Field Museum of Natural History 

Director, E. Leiand Webber 

Editor Joyce Zibro; Associate Editor Elizabeth Munger; Staff Writer Madge Jacobs; Production Russ Beclcer; Photography John Bayalis, 
Fred Huysmans. 

The Bulletin is published monthly by Field Museum of Natural History, Roosevelt Road at Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, Illinois 60605. Subscrip- 
tions: $9 a year; S3 a year for schools. Members of the Museum subscribe through Museum membership. Opinions expressed by authors 
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Bulletin May 1971 



Perhaps we should explore the why of 
flowers before we examine flower color. 
Plants without flowers, such as ferns 
and mosses, have swimming sperm. 
The sperm must swim through water 
or across a surface film of water to 
achieve fertilization. Part of the life 
cycle of these plants is thus tied to the 
presence of water or wet conditions. 
These plants cannot reproduce sexually 
in places that aren't moist for at least 
a short period of time. 

Flowers were invented as part of a 
grand new strategy for reproduction 
which made water no longer necessary 
for fertilization. That strategy was 
fertilization by pollen. It is the function 
of flowers to produce and receive 
pollen. Pollen grains arriving at or near 
the female organs grow toward their 
goal, fertilization. 

But now there is the problem of 
transportation. If the pollen can't swim, 
who will carry it? There are two 
obvious solutions: the wind and the 
wildlife. 

Plants like oak trees and grasses and 
many others have chosen the wind. 
This is a chancy business, a statistical 
problem: how to make sure the pollen 
will reach its proper destination. 
Invariably these plants produce a lot 
of pollen. Almost as invariably, the 
flowers of wind-pollinated plants are 
nothing worth admiring. Their flowers 
are usually small and inconspicuous. 
But that makes sense — the wind can't 
see. These plants are investing in 
pollen, not makeup. We want to talk 
about those plants that have invested 
in color to insure their pollination. 
These are the plants that have chosen 
the wildlife. 



Color 

in 

Flowers 

It takes more than mere color to insure 
that animals will transport pollen from 
flower to flower. The main reward for 
these animals is usually sweet nectar 
or nutritious pollen; color and odor are 
the signals that tell them where it's at. 
Color, odor, and nectar are expensive, 
but this is the price the plant must pay 
for the service of pollination. The 
currency of living things is energy and 
it requires a lot of energy to make 
colorful petals, attractive aromas, and 
sweet nectar. We can think of a living 
thing as having two energy budgets: 
one to keep itself alive and the other 
to reproduce and keep the species 
alive. Flowers, fruits, and seeds are the 
investments a plant must make to keep 
its particular species going. 

But why all the trouble of flowers and 
pollination? Why not just have small 
parts that could form new plants? 
Wouldn't it be simpler for an organism 
to produce young all by itself? Many 
plants can produce new plants by 
themselves. Why bother with pollination 
between distant plants, which is one of 
the major results of having colorful 
flowers? If there were no advantage, 
all this energy spent on fancy flowers 
would be a waste. There does seem to 
be an advantage. This advantage is a 
more variable population resulting from 
the mixture of hereditary material. 

The more variable a population, the 
greater is its potential for improved 
adaptability to its environment and its 
chance of surviving if the environment 
changes or catastrophe strikes. 
Pollination between distant plants 
results in more variable offspring. This 
is what flowers are for. 

We explored the "why" of flowers; 
let's now take a look at the "how" of 
color. We all know that white (and 
white light) is a mixture of all the 



William C. Burger and Ronald Liesner 



colors and that the absence of color 
(or of light) is black. We see color 
when we see only part of the light 
spectrum. Color can be produced 
physically, as when a prism refracts a 
beam of sunlight and disperses it into 
its components, from blue through 
green and yellow to red. Many things 
can break up white light similarly, such 
as water droplets making a rainbow, 
atmospheric particles making the sky 
look blue, or the scales of some of the 
most spectacular butterflies. But the 
color of flowers is not this type of 
"physical" or structural color. Flowers 
usually produce color with pigments. 
Pigments are compounds that absorb 
some part of the spectrum; it is by 
reflecting back the rest that they 
produce their "color." Thus, a 
compound that absorbs blue, red, and 
yellow will look green. One that absorbs 
everything but red will look red. 
Pigments of many kinds are responsible 
for the colors of flowers. 

The how of color also requires 
understanding how color is seen. 
People with good color vision can 
distinguish between hundreds of colors, 
but experiments with honeybees 
indicate that they can see only about 
four distinct colors. Moreover, the 
honeybee can see part of the spectrum 
that is not visible to us. How can we 
discuss what the bee sees when its 
vision is so different in both sensitivity 
and ability to discriminate? How can 
we understand the effect of flower 
color on animals whose vision differs 
so much from our own? Perhaps the 
best way to approach the problem is 
to think in terms of contrast. After all, 
the flower has a simple message: 
"Here I am." The prime function of 



Photo: Looking deep into the flower of a common 
hollyhock. Althaea rosea, which belongs to the 
family that also includes cotton, okra, hibiscus, and 
the mallows. Photo by William C. Burger. 



Bulletin May 1971 




The lower petal of the iris provides a 
broad landing field and distinct lines that 
guide the bee to nectar. 

flower color is to stand out in bold 
contrast against its surroundings. 

The most contrasting image against a 
background of mixed browns and 
greens may be pure wliite. The white 
of flowers is due to the air spaces 
within cells rather than to a white 
pigment. This white is formed in the 
same way as the white of snow and 
foam: the air cells scatter and reflect 
the light falling on them. White and the 
very pale colors are characteristic of 
flowers pollinated by moths at dusk 
and dawn. These light colors are the 
most efficient in reflecting the dim light. 
Bees are attracted to white flowers, but 
only if the ultraviolet wavelengths are 
not reflected. Similarly, bees can be 
taught to visit a white disc, but only if 
that disc does not reflect the ultraviolet. 



The bees distinguish between white 
that includes ultraviolet and white that 
does not — something we cannot do. 

Yellow and orange are apparently very 
attractive to a wide range of insects. 
They are common flower colors. Our 
goldenrods, dandelions, and butterfly 
weeds can often be seen with visiting 
bees, wasps, hover flies, and even a 
few beetles. 

Bees have been shown to be blind to 
red. Nevertheless, the red poppy of 
Europe and our gardens is often visited 
by honeybees. This apparent 
contradiction is explained by the fact 
that the red poppy also reflects 
ultraviolet light. Again, the bee 
distinguishes a difference that we 
cannot see. 

Red flowers, especially those with 
narrow tubes, are regularly visited by 
birds. These red flowers apparently 
stand out in bold contrast to the 
background greens for the birds as 
they do for us. How different from 
Rover, who has a lot more trouble 
fetching a red ball in the green grass 
than a blue one. Getting back to 
flowers, typically bird-pollinated flowers 
lack fragrance. This is not surprising 
since birds have a very poor sense of 
smell (differing again from Rover). 

Quite a number of flowers pollinated 
by flies and beetles and having very 
disagreeable odors (to us) are very 
dark brown or deep red-purple. Early 
experiments indicated that flies were 
not attracted to these colors. But later 
work showed that flies which normally 
prefer yellow and orange shift their 
preference to brown and purple when 
exposed to the odors of decay. The 
insects require two signals in this 
instance: sight and odor. Odors play 
an important role in many other 
flowers, and it is often difficult to 
distinguish which clues the visitor has 



used to find a particular flower. A 
straight flight path to the flower 
indicates that the visitor has used 
vision, but a crooked flight into the 
wind indicates that aroma is the clue. 

Once the insect has found the flower, 
it may receive further visual cues. 
Many bee-pollinated flowers have 
stripes or patches of contrasting color, 
known as honey-guides. These help the 
insect find the nectar. Experiments 
have shown that bees usually land on 
the edge of an evenly colored area 
and move in from the edge, even if 
food is always in the center. However, 
when stripes or patches of contrasting 
color are in or point to the center of 
the area, the bee lands directly on the 
center. Thus, the white petals (called 
rays) of the daisy serve to center the 
yellow disc. Many flowers have special 
lines or colors that indicate the nectar- 
producing areas; these are the guide 
lines and target colors. 

The next time you see a pretty flower 
you might ponder its meaning. Not the 
poetic purpose of song and fable, but 
the business of enticing animals to help 
it in that universal biological goal: 
procreation. 



Dr. William C. Burger is associate curator 
ot vascular plants in the Department of 
Botany at Field Museum. Ronald Liesner 
is herbarium assistant. 



Bulletin May 1971 




These courting Great Frigate Birds 
turn back ttie clock thirty years to 
two exciting days spent on Tower 
Island in the Galapagos, when I saw 
this magnificent pirate for the first time. 
As our ship approached the cove at 
the head of Darwin Bay, we were 
struck by the numerous bright red 
spots like flowers scattered through the 
brush. When we landed we could see 
that each splash of color was the 
throat pouch of a courting male frigate 
bird. The majority were alone, sitting on 
a nest to guard it from rapacious 
neighbors, but occasional ones had 
their mates beside them. Some pairs 
sat quietly, others fenced with their 
bills and croaked love songs, and 
recently reunited pairs were, in William 
Beebe's immortal words, "going through 
various forms of dying ecstasies." 

The bright red pouch of the male is 
strictly a courtship ornament, worn 
night and day during mating, but folded 
up and tucked away when the trials of 



raising a family begin. A male with a 
brilliant pouch is almost invariably on 
an empty nest, while the subdued 
ones, with shriveled pouch, are 
incubating an egg. 

When incubating, the frigate bird is 
comparatively unimpressive. Being 
primarily an aerial machine, its legs 
are short and its feet weak, good only 
for perching. If forced to move about, 
it hops and flops and appears 
singularly inept. However, as soon as it 
lifts its wings and rises from the nest, 
the frigate becomes a new being, the 
absolute master of the air. No other 
bird combines such ability to soar for 
hours on motionless wings with such 
speed and agility. Its flight is deceptive, 
for the slow wing beats give no hint of 
great speed. Only when the frigate 
swoops down to catch a flying fish in 
the air does one realize its power and 
control. 

The frigate, or man-o-war, earned its 
name from its habit of pirating food 



THE 
GREAT 
FRIGATE BIRD 



Melvin A. Traylor 



Courtship ot Great Frigate Bird, by Grant Halst, 
Rochester, New York, selected as best print in the 
26th Chicago International Exhibit o( Nature 
Photography. 



from other birds. At Tower Island the 
victims were usually the boobies that 
shared the rookery. When the boobies 
had young in the nest, they would feed 
well out to sea and return only when 
their crops were full. Then they had to 
run the gauntlet of the frigate birds 
soaring high above the island, waiting 
for them. Although to us the boobies' 
flight seemed fast, it was no match for 
the speed of the men-o-war. The 
frigates would dive-bomb and harass 
the boobies, even snatching them by 
wing or tail tip and flipping them over 
to make them disgorge part of their 
meal, which a frigate would seize 
triumphantly in the air. Not that it could 
necessarily enjoy its loot, for other 
frigates would chase the pirate in turn, 
and a fish might change beaks three 
or four times before a lucky thief 
succeeded in swallowing it. 

Melvin A. Traylor is associate curator of 
birds in the Department of Zoology at 
Field l^useum. 



Bulletin May 1971 



Color 

in 

Animals 



Rupert L. Wenzel and 
Solomon A. Smith 



Bulletin May 1971 




The glorious spectrum of a rainbow, the 
flaming colors of a fall landscape, the 
softly sensuous hues of the Grand 
Canyon, the dazzling blue of a Morpho 
butterfly; all evoke a variety of 
emotional responses in man — wonder, 
surprise, joy. They may even give him 
pause to reflect on their meaning, and 
on his own place in the universe. 

Both primitive and civilized people have 
used colors in many ways — to identify 
group, to symbolize status, to present 
an awesome visage in combat, to 
conceal soldiers from the enemy, to 
attract the opposite sex, to enhance 
objects, to interpret the world around 
them, to give pleasure, to calm the ill. 
Interestingly, some of these uses are 
similar to functions of color in nature. 

Yet, man is so conditioned by color, 
both in nature and culture, that he tends 
to take it for granted. Although he 
easily adjusts to the black and white or 
intermediate grays of non-color 
television and photography, he may 
find it difficult to imagine living in a 
world without color. That is, unless he 
is blind or completely color-blind, for 
in a psychological or physiological 
sense, color "exists only in the eye of 
the beholder." In this sense, there is no 
color without color vision, that 
remarkable ability of eye and brain to 
respond to different wavelengths of 
light by perceiving the sensations as 
color. 

Physically, colors are simply various 
wavelengths of that segment of the 
electromagnetic spectrum that is 
reflected from objects and perceived by 
creatures as light. The physical basis 
of color has existed since radiant 
energy burst forth in the universe many 
billions of years ago. These energy 
waves of colors were reflected from 
the sky, the waters, and the rocks and 
minerals of our planet earth long before 



Photos: Top — Phylobales bicolor with tadpoles on 
its back, from Cordillera, Azul. Peru: body length 
1% inches. Bottom — A crab spider which has caught 
a long-horned beetle by imitating its buttercup 
yellow background; from Marin County, California; 
body length V2 inch. Copyright by Dr. Edward S. Ross. 
California Academy of Sciences. 



there was life, and thus before there 
were any eyes to sense them. 

Some biochemists believe that ultraviolet 
light provided the energy needed for 
life to originate. Certainly light in its 
colors has been woven into the fabric 
of life and evolution ever since, and life 
as we know it would not otherwise exist. 

The earliest animals could not see. At 
best, some — like protozoa, minute 
one-celled animals— could only sense 
light and shade. Primitive light receptors 
evolved in some animals, and later 
these were elaborated into complex 
eyes that could distinguish form and 
tones of light and gray, fuzzily at first, 
"as through a glass darkly," more 
sharply in higher forms. 

Although some lower animals may have 
been sensitive to a narrow range of 
light wavelengths, none had color 
vision that could distinguish all the 
colors of the light spectrum. 

At some unknown time and place, some 
animals first achieved the ability to 
distinguish colors — perhaps to help 
them recognize enemies, mates, prey or 
other food. Color then took on new 
dimensions, even for plants, which 
themselves cannot see. And natural 
selection served to combine vision, 
color, form, and behavior into patterns 
unbelievably well suited for survival. 

But it would be a mistake to assume 
that colors in animals and plants had no 
significance before the evolution of 
color vision in animals. For even though 
no creature could see them as 
colored, pigments were present in many 
early plants and animals. Unlike the 
inorganic pigments we use in paints and 
most dyes, the pigments of plants and 
animals are organic chemical 
compounds. Many are either essential 
to life processes of the organism that 
produces them — like chlorophyll in 
photosynthesis — or are important in 
intermediate stages of metabolism, or 
are waste end-products. Some of these 
may be deposited in the shell or skin 
of an animal. It requires less energy to 



"dump" such wastes this way than to 
excrete them through special organs. 

Because of local differences in 
biochemical activity in the skin, it is 
possible that such pigments were often 
deposited unevenly, to produce 
patterns, Even though seen as tones of 
gray by other color-blind animals, these 
patterns could increase an animal's 
chance of surviving and reproducing if 
they helped camouflage it from an 
enemy, or rendered it easily 
recognizable by others of its kind, 
including potential mates. This is true 
for many living animals. 

The extent of color vision in the animal 
kingdom has not been sufficiently 
investigated for anyone to make more 
than a few generalizations. 
Although the origin of color vision is 
unknown, it is clear that it evolved 
more than once, independently, and 
that its history is interwoven with that 
of adaptive coloration in plants and 
animals. 

In general, animals which are active in 
the evening or in the dark, like owls, 
lack color vision. They also tend to be 
somberly colored or mottled, to match 
the backgrounds on which they rest 
during the day. Moths which are 
chiefly nocturnal are excellent 
examples of this, though day-flying 
moths may be brightly colored, like 
butterflies. 

Most diurnal birds have excellent color 
vision, much like that of humans, but 
some tend to be more sensitive to reds 
and oranges. Significantly, the flowers 
and seeds of many plants that depend 
upon birds for pollination or dispersal 
are often red or orange. So are the 
warning colors of many insects — like 
the monarch butterfly — that may be 
distasteful or dangerous to bird 
predators. 

Little is known about color vision in 
reptiles and amphibians. Probably all 
tortoises and turtles have it, and it is 
clear from inferred evidence that at 
least some lizards and toads do too. 



Bulletin May 1971 



Animals 



Many fish have excellent color vision, 
as one would expect from the bright 
colors which they display. 

Interestingly, most mammals appear to 
have poorly developed color vision or 
to be color-blind. But man and other 
primates, like the chimpanzee, have 
excellent color vision. Their color 
sensitivity may have evolved in tropical 
regions of the world as a means of 
recognizing highly colored fruits which 
were important in their diet and thus 
to their survival. 

Although there is evidence that birds 
and many other vertebrates discriminate 
colors in much the same way humans 
do, this is not true for all animals that 
have color vision. 

For example, a flower that has pigment 
which reflects ultraviolet light may 
appear to man to be entirely yellow; 
but to a honeybee it may appear to be 
largely deep purple with a narrow 
lighter yellow margin. Bees can sense 
ultraviolet; man cannot. On the other 
hand, bees are blind to red, which 
man can see. 

Colors in plants and animals may be 
either structural or pigmentary, or a 
combination of the two. Structural 
colors are produced chiefly by 
ultra-fine structures which break up 
light and reflect wavelengths of various 
colors — much as cut-glass does. These 
colors may be iridescent, or 
non-iridescent like the dazzling blues 
of many morpho butterflies, whose 
wings have been so commonly used to 
make butterfly trays and pictures. In 
these, the tiny scales which form the 
"powder" of the wings have complex 
structures which reflect wavelengths of 
blue light and absorb others. 

Pigmentary colors are produced by 
various molecules of organic pigment 
compounds which absorb certain 
wavelengths of light and reflect or 
transmit others. 

Coloration in animals plays many roles. 
Because of its heat-absorbing qualities, 



dark pigment is important in heat 
regulation in many cold-blooded desert 
animals, especially those that are active 
during cool hours of early morning 
and evening. 

Eumelanin is the pigment which is 
conspicuous in dark-skinned peoples. 
By screening out excessive ultraviolet 
light, eumelanin helps maintain a 
favorable level of vitamin D production 
in the skin of people living in tropical 
latitudes, where ultraviolet radiation is 
intense. An excess of the vitamin is 
toxic. Conversely, the light skin of 
originally northern peoples permits 
maximum absorption of ultraviolet in 
northern latitudes, where the radiation 
is low. Coupled with a high intake of 
vitamin-D-rich food, like fish, this helps 
prevent rickets and other bone 
disorders which result from a 
deficiency of the vitamin. 

But most coloration in animals 
functions either to conceal them or 
make them conspicuous. 
Conspicuous coloration tells something 
about an animal to other animals. In 
other words, it is a form of 
communication — between prey and 
predator, rival males, opposite sexes, 
or other members of the same species, 
including parent and offspring. 

Warning coloration may tell a predator 
that a creature possesses bad taste or 
smell, a sting, or a poison, like the 
scarlet tree frog Phylobates bicolor, 
whose bright color advertises the fact 
that it is poisonous when eaten. The 
orange-reds of ladybird beetles and 
milkweed bugs advertise their 
distasteful qualities. 

Animals quickly learn to avoid what is 
unpleasant, through tasting. A 
laboratory toad, for example, may be 
conditioned to avoid the conspicuous 
banded patterns of a bumblebee and 
its mimics after only one unpleasant 
experience. 

Many small animals, like the caterpillar 
of the swallowtail butterfly shown here, 
have conspicuous false eyes. It is 



thought that predators like birds and 
lizards retreat when confronted by such 
imitation eyes, responding as though 
they were confronted by some larger 
creature. The front end of the caterpillar 
of one moth found in Trinidad actually 
resembles the head of a small snake, 
complete with eyes, and "strikes" at 
intruders. The false eye of one sphinx 
moth caterpillar may actually "wink." 

False eyes may also function as 
deflective coloration to divert the attack 
of an enemy. A predator often strikes 
at its prey's headr and the illusion of 
reversed posture created by false 
eyes and stance causes the enemy to 
lunge in the opposite direction to that 
in which the prey will move in 
attempting to escape. 

But conspicuous coloration is by no 
means confined to predator-prey 
relationships. It plays a wide variety of 
roles in reproduction and social 
behavior. It may aid in establishing and 
maintaining breeding territories. For 
example, the familiar red-winged 
blackbird displays his bright shoulder 
markings to attract females and to 
discourage other males from 
approaching his territory. The bright 
blue tail of the young five-lined skink 
shown here apparently signals that it is 
juvenile and thus inhibits attack by an 
aggressive male parent, which resists 
intruders into its territory. 

The males of some species, like the 
Bird of Paradise, display their bright 
colors all together to compete for the 
favor of the females. This sexual 
selection by the female perpetuates the 
colors of the most brilliant and 
pleasing males. 

Conspicuous colors of either male or 
female may signal readiness to mate, 
like the yellow markings that appear on 
the female Spotted Turtle, or the bright 
red patch on the chest and rear of the 
female Hamadryas Baboon, or the red 
breast pouch of the Frigate Bird. 

Conspicuous color markings may 
"release" or trigger other kinds of 



8 



Bulletin May 1971 



Photos: from top to bottom — Peplllo larva (caterpillar 
of swallowtail butterfly), from Krachong Forest in 
Thailand; body width H inch. Horned lizard, from 
El Rosdrio, Baia California; body length 5 inches. 
Five-lined skink. from Marin County. California; 
body length 6 inches. Nymphalidae anaea itys (dead 
leaf butterfly), from Tingo Maria. Peru. Copyright by 
Dr. Edward S. Ross, California Academy of Sciences. 



behavior patterns too among 
individuals of the same species. 
Display of a red spot on the bill of the 
adult Western Gull (Larus occidentalis) 
causes the hungry chicks to peck at 
the parent, w/hich then regurgitates food 
for them. Experimentation has shown 
that if the red spot is covered with 
paint, the chicks do not peck and the 
adult ignores them. 

Concealing coloration is widespread in 
the animal kingdom. Its camouflage 
may conceal an animal from its 
enemies or from its prey, or both. The 
color of some animals may impart a 
general resemblance to the 
surroundings, like the white of the 
arctic fox or the green of many insects 
and tree snakes in rain forests, A few 
animals, like chameleons, can change 
their color to match the background. 
In many sea animals, such as sharks 
and other large fish, the form of the 
body is obscured by counter-shading, 
the color being darker on top and 
lighter on the bottom. Disruptive 
coloration, like the bold stripes of 
many tropical fish, may break up the 
outline of the body so that it is not 
easily seen. Coloration may also 
resemble special characteristics of the 
background, like the mottled pattern of 
the horned lizard or the color and 
texture of the crab spider pictured 
here. The special resemblance of some 
animals to inedible objects in their 
environment, like dead leaves or bird 
droppings or twigs, is achieved through 
a combination of coloration, form, and 
behavior. There are even insects that 
camouflage themselves by carrying 
debris around on their body. 

Mimics are among the most 
"unbelievable" examples of adaptation 
and evolution. Their resemblance to 
other animals or plants, which are 
called models, is a special kind of 
deception. The preying mantis that 
closely resembles the orchid on which 
it rests, the robber flies which resemble 
bumblebees, and the moth whose color 
pattern is nearly identical to that of a 
butterfly in the same habitat are a 



small sample of mimics. Mimicry has 
for decades provoked much thoughtful 
speculation as well as uninformed 
nonsense. 

The famous 19th century naturalist 
Henry Bates puzzled over the fact that 
in a given locality along the Amazon 
River several unrelated species of 
butterflies and day-flying moths were 
almost exact "look-alikes," even to 
many minor details of their complex 
color pattern. He concluded that one 
of the species was a "model" 
mimicked by the others and that the 
conspicuously colored model was 
distasteful to predators like birds, 
which, through unpleasant taste trials, 
learned to avoid it. He reasoned further 
that the mimics were palatable species 
and that when predators learned to 
avoid the models, they also avoided 
the mimics. The mimics' resemblance 
to the models thus conferred a degree 
of protection on them as well. 

The naturalist Fritz Muller sought to 
add another dimension to the Bates 
mimicry theory. He found mimicry 
groups that included more than one — 
often several — presumably distasteful 
"look-alikes." He reasoned that if it 
was advantageous for a palatable 
species to mimic a distasteful one, it 
was also reasonable to expect that 
different distasteful species would gain 
an advantage if they resembled each 
other. Not only would the losses 
suffered through taste trials by young 
birds be divided among the several 
distasteful species, the predators would 
learn to avoid them all more effectively 
because they needed to learn to avoid 
only one rather than several color 
patterns. This kind of mimicry is now 
called Muller ian mimicry. There may be 
Batesian mimics of the MiJIIerian 
mimics too. 

Over the years there has been much 
argument about mimicry. Few 
denied that Batesian and MiJIIerian 
mimicry did indeed exist, but the 
explanation was open to question. It 
was necessary first to demonstrate that 




Bulletin May 1971 



Animals 



the models were actually distasteful. 
Ttiis seemed dubious when early 
experiments and observations with the 
common Monarch Butterfly, which was 
supposed to be unpalatable and 
mimicked by the palatable Viceroy, 
indicated that Monarchs were readily 
eaten by birds. This evidence caused 
biologists to discredit Bates' and 
Muller's hypotheses and to give 
alternative explanations, some of which 
now seem quite ridiculous. 

The classic experiments by Dr. and 
Mrs. Lincoln Brower of Amherst 
College and their co-workers and 
colleagues clearly support the original 
theses of Bates and Muller. They also 
showed that the conclusions regarding 
the Monarch's edibility were based on 
incomplete evidence. It had been 
assumed that the distasteful qualities 
of the "model" butterflies were due to 
substances ingested by the caterpillar 
when feeding on plants like milkweeds 
and that these poisons were carried 
through in the adult butterfly. This is 
now known to be true for the Monarch 
as well as for other "models." The 
problem was that in some areas the 
Monarch caterpillars feed on species 
of milkweed that do not contain the 
distasteful or poisonous components, 
and in these areas Monarch Butterflies 
are indeed eaten by birds. But 
butterflies from caterpillars that fed on 
milkweeds containing certain heart 
poisons were not just distasteful to 
birds, they actually made the birds ill 
to the point of wretching. Birds which 
experienced this in the laboratory 
sometimes wretched at the very sight 
of a Monarch if it was offered to them 
a couple of days later. 

Although the suppositions of Bates and 
Muller were valid and explain why 
mimicry is advantageous to the mimic, 
they do not explain the mechanism by 
which the mimic comes to resemble 
the model. Natural selection provides 
what is to most biologists not only the 
most reasonable explanation, but the 
only one which has experimental and 
observational evidence to support it. 



Many animals exhibit easily 
demonstrable individual variation in 
structure, ecological tolerance, 
behavior, physiology, and coloration. 
Much of this variation is due to 
inherited — that is, genetic — differences. 
An animal that may, to quote Darwin, 
"vary however slightly in any manner 
profitable to itself under the complex 
and sometimes varying conditions of 
life" will have a better chance of 
surviving. In other words, an animal 
with a superior genotype (its total 
hereditary material or genes) will have 
a better chance of surviving than an 
inferior one. But, what is more 
important than survival itself is the 
contribution that will be made by the 
survivors of each generation to the 
genetic pool of the next and 
subsequent generations. 

The history of the Peppered Moth 
{Bislon betularia) in England is one of 
the most convincing examples of 
natural selection that has been 
witnessed as well as verified by 
experiment. 

Before the Industrial Revolution, pale 
lichens covered trees over much of 
England. When light-colored Peppered 
Moths rested on such a tree trunk they 
were almost invisible to bird predators. 
With the Industrial Revolution, the 
lichens near many cities either 
disappeared or were darkened by soot 
deposits. In 1848 a dark form of the 
Peppered Moth was first observed. 
This form was inconspicuous and thus 
protected from predation when it 
rested on the darkened tree trunks. 
It gradually increased in numbers while 
the light form, now conspicuous, 
suffered heavily from predation. By 
1900 the ratio of dark to light forms 
was 99 to 1. This ratio is now shifting 
back as pollution control in Britain 
eliminates much of the soot deposition 
and more of the lighter forms of the 
Peppered Moths survive. 

Dr. H. B. D. Kettlewell of England 
performed a series of wonderfully 
designed experiments — in natural 
habitats — to demonstrate the different 



survival values of the dark and light 
forms when exposed to predation by 
birds. Breeding experiments then 
demonstrated a simple genetic basis 
for the dark and light forms. 

When one reflects on this simple 
example of natural selection, it is much 
easier to understand how such 
marvelous adaptations as those 
exhibited in mimicry, concealment, and 
conspicuous coloration could evolve. 
For many of these genotypes represent 
an accumulation of "superior" or 
"successful" genes which survived and 
were passed on through many 
thousands, even millions, of 
generations, by means of natural 
selection. 

As Charles Danwin wrote in Origin of 
Species: ". . . whilst this planet has 
gone cycling on according to the fixed 
law of gravity, from so simple a 
beginning endless forms most beautiful 
and most wonderful have been, and 
are being, evolved." 



Dr. Rupert L Wenzel is chairman of the 
Department of Zoology, and Solomon A. 
Smith II is coordinator ol temporary exhibits 
at Field Museum. 



10 



Bulletin May 1971 



Alan Solem 



y. 







One of my more irreverent colleagues 
divides the birds into big white birds, 
little bitty brown birds, and owls. For 
my own part, I think of Illinois 
mammals as foxes, opossums, skunks, 
squirrels, deer, raccoons, and squeaky 
things. Since professional systematists 
can view common animals in this 
cavalier fashion, it is no wonder that 
things so far out of the ordinary 
experience as sea snail shells become 
clumped and confused in the eyes of 
the average person. 

A few sea shells are genuinely rare, 
quite beautiful, well publicized, and 
eagerly sought by shell collectors. 
Individual specimens have sold in 
recent years for $2,000 to a rumored 
$4,000 each. Two of these rarities, 
Conus gloriamaris and Cypraea 
leucodon, have been widely publicized. 
Blurred photographs of Conus 
gloriamaris have appeared in popular 
magazines, while The Guinness Book 
of World Records lists C. leucodon as 
"the rarest shell in the world." 
Accompanying this totally incorrect 
listing is a small black and white 
photograph. 

Two or three times a month I receive 
a telephone call or a letter from a 
person who is certain he has one or 
the other of these very rare shells. It 
may have come down through the 
generations in a box of shells collected 
by a New Bedford whaling captain or 
been bought in an antique shop or 
picked up while serving in the South 
Pacific during World War II, or even 
found discarded by a janitor cleaning 
up an apartment for new tenants. 

Often the person will have seen a 
magazine or newspaper picture of 
these rare shells and his memory will 
be triggered. The shell in a box in the 
attic will be remembered, and casual 
curiosity brings shell and picture 
together. They look the same. 
Excitement mounts. A trip to the local 
library to look through its few shell 
books is of little help. If these rarities 
are illustrated in the books, no mention 
is made of similar looking shells. 



Hopes grow that a specimen of the 
treasured shell is in hand. Pride of 
ownership, a sense of discovery, 
visions of unexpected wealth, and, 
above all, the scent of treasure trove 
mingle. Calls to local colleges, bird 
watcher clubs, natural history societies, 
and aquarium stores fail to yield an 
authoritative answer. Eventually either 
the Shedd Aquarium or Field Museum 
is suggested. A short time later my 
telephone rings or a letter comes to 
my desk. More often than not this is 
followed by a visit to my office. Field 
Museum has just obtained a specimen 
of Conus gloriamaris. Of Cypraea 
leucodon we have only good color 
photographs. We have several hundred 
specimens of the species that are 
generally confused with both of them. 
A glance at the proffered shell tells me 
that the high hopes are in vain. A 
walk to our collection cabinets, an 
opened drawer, a few words pointing 
out that we have from 40 to 200 
specimens that are the same as the 
visitor's shell, an explanation as to 
how it differs from the pictures of the 
rarity — and the dreams have fallen. 

More than ninety per cent of the 
mistakes involve the same common 
shells. Since the rarities are 
surrounded by both history and 
romance, a brief review of their 
background and the points of 
difference from the common species 
seems of general interest. 

Cypraea leucodon, sometimes called 
the white-toothed cowry, was 
discovered in 1828. This three-inch 
shell with white spots on a light brown 
background was known only from a 
single specimen until 1960, when a 
second shell was reported. It had lain 



c 



Bulletin May 1971 



11 



Top row: Ollva porphyria: Conua textile; Conua 
glorlamaris. Bottom row: Cypraea maurillana: 
Cypraea tigris; Cypraea leucodof}. (Cypraea leucodon 
reproduced by permission from Van Nostrand'a 
Standard Catalog ol Shells, 2nd ed., 1961, Var> 
Nostrand-Reinhold Books.) 




from The Action Line, Chicago Today . . . "I've been saving a sea shell I found in the 
South Pacific in 1943 as a souvenir. But after reading the Guinness Book of World 
Records, it appears it might be a rare type of cowrie and I might part with it for a price. 
Do you know of a good conchologist who could advise me?" — Frank Svihula 

Action Line: Alan Solem, Ph.D., believes you are the proud possessor of a very common 
species of shell that has a value of approximately 25 cents. The curator of invertebrates 
at the Field Museum, however, cannot be absolutely sure. Here's what to do next: 
If the coloring on the shell's back consists of brown spots on a white background you've 
got the 25 cent variety. If there are light spots on a dark background, turn the specimen 
over. Along the edge of the shell opening are a series of "teeth." Again, you're stuck 
with the cheapie if the top part of the teeth is dark brown and the intervals between them 
are whitish. A brownish color to the teeth means that Solem will gladly set up an 
appointment for you to verify its identity. 



unrecognized in, first, the Boston 
Society of Natural History, and then 
the Museum of Comparative Zoology 
at Harvard University. The shell had 
been collected about 1840 and had 
remained incognito for 120 years! In 
1965 another specimen was recovered 
from the stomach of a fish caught in 
the Sulu Sea off the Philippine islands. 
Examining Philippine fish stomachs 
promptly became a popular pastime. 
At least slight success has resulted, 
because the Hawaiian Shell News for 
January 1971 announced that two 
Cypraea leucodon were being 
displayed at a Philippine shell show. 
Obviously now five shells are known, 
and very probably a few more rest 
unpubllclzed In Philippine private 
collections. 

Public recognition of C. leucodon as a 
"most rare" shell rests solely on the 
listing in the Guinness book. Literally 
hundreds of molluscan species are 
known only from single specimens, yet 
excite no Interest. They are small, 
colorless, or unpubllclzed. The two 
species normally confused with 
C. leucodon are the Tiger Cowry 
(C. tigris) and the Humpback Cowry 
(C. mauritiana). Both are worth 25« to 
50* at most. Color differences, which 
can be seen In the picture, are 
summarized In the table on the next 
page. The easiest distinction Is that only 
the rare shell has white spots on a 
brown background. 

Conus gloriamaris has been famous for 
more than 200 years. This 4" to 6" 
tapered shell with white and gold 
markings was a source of frantic 
bidding at shell auctions in the late 
18th century. We do not know where 
these early specimens were collected. 
Only when Hugh Cuming picked up 
two live shells on a reef at Jacna, 
Bohol Island, Philippines in the fall of 
1836 was a locality identified. 



12 



Bulletin May 1971 



Tradition has it that Cuming "fainted 
with delight" at this find. The historical 
picture of Cuming as a hard-headed 
businessman suggests rather that he 
capered in glee at the potential profits. 
These plus two other specimens 
collected from Indonesia during the 
1890s were the only four specimens 
found between 1800 and 1957! 

C. gloriamaris shells have sold for as 
much as $2,000. A specimen stolen 
from an exhibition case at the 
American f^useum of Natural History in 
New York has never been recovered. 
Only 22 examples, including the stolen 
shell, plus a few records in the early 
literature that could not be traced to 
known specimens were listed in a 
catalog of known specimens published 
in 1949. In the early 1950s a few 
additional shells were located in small 
provincial museum collections in Europe. 

Late in 1956 a live specimen was 
dredged off Corregidor Island in the 
Philippines. In 1963 a specimen was 
found near Rabaul, New Britain in the 
Bismarck Archipelago of the South 
Pacific. Others had been collected a 
few years earlier but not publicized. 
The next few years saw many 
specimens collected in the Bismarcks 
and Solomon Islands, and in the 
summer of 1970 over 100 specimens 
were collected off Guadalcanal in the 
Solomon Islands. As a result, the price 
for a good specimen has dropped from 
about $1,500 to $500. It's still an 
expensive item, but in this day of 
inflation not nearly as valuable as before. 

A grim and snowy February day was 
greatly brightened by a small package 
from Guadalcanal. Inside was a 104 
mm. long specimen of Conus 



Species 


C. mauritiani 


C. tigris 


C. Leucoiloa 


Si2e 


3-6" 


3-6" 


3-3Vjr" 


Bickground 
color of shell 


chocolate 


white 


brown 


Color of 
shell base 


dark 
chocolate 


white 


brown 


Color of spots 


1 ight brown 


brown 


white 


Apertural teeth 


long and 
indistinct, 
brown on 
top, white 
in inter- 
spaces 


short and 
indistinct 


long and 

sharply 

defined 



gloriamaris complete with operculum 
and in perfect condition. Through the 
generosity of Mr. and Mrs. Arthur 
Moulding, Field Museum now owns 
this shell, which will be on display in 
the South Lounge May 17 through July 
11. The vast majority of specimens 
found in recent years have been of the 
80-90 mm. size and usually have 
several noticeable flaws in the shell. 
This example had been injured in life, 
as is typical of the species, and it 
repaired itself during later growth. 
Visiting shell collectors have viewed it 
with delight equal to my own. It is a 
magnificient addition to Field 
Museum's collections. 

My own experience has been that the 
Indopacific Conus textile and Oliva 
porphyria from West Mexico are the 
two species most frequently confused 
with C. gloriamaris. Perhaps a 
geographic factor is involved, since at 
the American Museum of Natural 
History in New York the Florida species 
Oliva sayana replaces the West 
Mexican shell. The Oliva totally lacks 
the vertical reddish lines found on the 
two Conus shells, has a heavy callus 
with spiral ridges on the median line 
of the shell opening, and the early 
whorls are minute with a distinct 
channel where the whorls meet. Both 
of the Conus have, typically, a 
yellowish-orange base color, white 
"tent-like" markings edged with a dark 
red line, plus vertical and somewhat 
wavy dark red lines. There are no 



spiral ridges and no channeling of the 
whorls. Conus textile is generally 
smaller, only 3" to 4" long, its 
"tent-like" markings are proportionately 
larger, it is distinctly more rounded in 
outline, and the spire (upper portion of 
the shell) is less elongated. Conus 
gloriamaris has an elongated spire, 
rather flat sides to the shell, is larger 
(4" to 5" long), the "tent-like" markings 
are very small, and usually the vertical 
red lines are fewer in number. 

The success of lotteries is based on 
the wistful hope of a lucky break. 
While the chances are very small that 
your attic contains one of the two 
valuable shells described here, some 
specimens of Conus gloriamaris that 
were in collections of the last century 
have disappeared from sight. One shell 
of Cypraea leucodon did sit 
unrecognized in a big museum for 
many years. Now where did we 
put that box of sea shells from 
Aunt Marie's house 

FURTHER READING 

S. Peter Dance's Shell Collecting — An 
Illustrated History (Faber & Faber, 1966) 
contains a full review of Conus gloriamaris 
and a guide to the earlier literature. 
Additional information is given by R. T. 
Abbott in Notulae Naturae of the Academy 
of Natural Sciences of Philadelphia, number 
400, 1967. Cypraea leucodon Is briefly 
mentioned by S. Peter Dance in Rare Shells 
(Faber & Faber, 1969). 



Dr. Alan Solem is curator of lower 
invertebrates in the Department ot Zoology 
at Field Museum. 



Bulletin [^ay 1971 



13 



Color in the Non-biological World 




Edward J. Olsen 



This discussion should begin by saying 
what light really is; but this is not possible, 
since light is essentially more primitive than 
any of the terms that might be used in an 
effort to explain It. —sir charles oarwin 

This view of the physicist grandson of 
the author of Origin of Species fairly 
well sums up the current state of 
understanding of the phenomenon of 
light. For at least 2,500 years Western 
man has wrestled with the question of 
what light "really is." 

In the Classical World several fanciful 
views were held. One explanation 
regarded light as a stream of minute, 
invisible particles fired like projectiles 
from any light source. Isaac Newton, 
twenty-one centuries later, came to the 
same conclusion. He developed the 
Idea and expanded It Into a physical 
theory of the mechanics of motion of 
the particles, and it came to be called 
the corpuscular theory of ligtit. 

During his own time, however, and in 
the following two centures, an 
impressive body of experimental data 
accumulated indicating that light could 
only be explained as a wave-like 
phenomenon which is propagated away 
from a source much like ripples on the 
surface of a pond into which a pebble 
has been dropped. The hypothetical 
medium through which it was 
propagated was called the ettier. The 
wave theory of light became extremely 
successful in predicting its behavior 
under all known conditions, and the 
corpuscular theory gradually dropped 
into disuse — until the early part of this 
century. It was then that certain 
experimental results arose which could 
only be explained when light was 
treated, again, as having the properties 
of particles (that is, corpuscles). 

Thus arose a good deal of 
consternation in the world of physics 
over this puzzling dual behavior of 
light. Was it made up of waves or of 
particles? 

The puzzle was compounded by other 
new experiments which suggested that 
this kind of dual behavior is not 



restricted to light. There are, for 
example, very minute particles called 
electrons. These are definitely particles. 
In all normal experiments electrons 
behave like tiny, electrically charged 
particles. If, however, they are 
accelerated to very high velocities, they 
exhibit wave like characteristics. Upon 
slowing down, they cease acting like 
waves and once again act like particles. 
Now what do you make of that? 

If you are not a physicist you must 
remain baffled. If you are a physicist 
you must become mentally 
ambidexterous: when it is necessary to 
treat light as a wave, you do so; when 
it is necessary to treat it as a stream 
of particles, you do that. At the present 
time then you cannot ask what light 
"really is." This essential duality of light 
(and matter) is today the major 
metaphysical frontier in the natural 
sciences. 

In our exhibit Color in Nature it is more 
convenient to treat light as waves. 
Waves have three basic properties. 
Wavelength is the measure of the length 
of a wave from the top of one wave 
crest to the top of the next crest. 
Frequency is a measure of the number 
of crests that appear to pass a given 
point in one second of time. Thus, if 
60 crests pass in one second, the 
frequency is called 60 cycles per 
second, or 60 Hertz (abbreviated, 60 
Hz.). The cycle-per-second unit was 
named "Hertz" to honor a 19th century 
German physicist. Amplitude measures 
the height of the crests and is a 
measure of the energetic power of the 
wave. It is possible to have two waves 
of the same wavelength and frequency, 
but very different amplitudes. 

When white light shines through a prism 
or reflects off a finely ruled grating, it 
is broken up into the visible spectrum 
of colors: red, orange, yellow, green, 
blue, violet. The wavelengths range 
from 27-millionths of an inch at the 
red end to 15-millionths of an inch at 
the violet end; the corresponding 
frequencies are from 430 trillion Hz. to 
770 trillion Hz., respectively. This is 



14 



Bulletin May 1971 



the range of frequencies visible to the 
human eye. Some animals — bees, for 
example — are capable of seeing 
beyond the violet into the ultraviolet. 

Beyond the ultraviolet, at 
ever-decreasing wavelengths, the 
spectrum continues through X-rays, 
gamma rays, and finally cosmic rays, 
which are of extremely short 
wavelengths, trillionths of an inch, and 
hence very high frequencies. Beyond 
the red end of the visible spectrum, at 
ever-increasing wavelengths, are the 
infra-red, which we cannot see but can 
sense as heat waves, radar waves, 
television waves, and ultimately radio 
waves, with wavelengths that range 
over ten miles long and hence have 
extremely low frequencies, under 
10,000 Hz. 

This whole expanse, from gamma 
waves to radio waves, is called the 
electromagnetic spectrum, so called 
because a ray of any of these waves 
has associated with it an electrical field 
and a magnetic field. 

In the natural world we are deluged 
with the visible colors. When sunlight 
impinges upon our atmosphere it is 
refracted (scattered) by the atoms of 
the air as well as by suspended water 
droplets and very fine dust. Because 
blue light is more strongly scattered 
than other wavelengths of the color 
spectrum, the sky apears blue; some of 
the blue wavelengths in the sunlight 
are bent downward toward the earth's 
surface. The other colors are less 
affected and generally pass on through 
our atmosphere. This effect is strongest 
at right angles to the sun; when the 
sun is low, the sky goes from whitish 
to pale blue around the horizon to 
deeper blue, almost violet, overhead. 

The blue of the sea is the blue of a 
cloudless sky reflected in the water. 
When the sun is covered by clouds, 
the sea appears greenish due to the 
microscopic plants, phytoplankton, that 
float just under the surface. These faint 
greens are swamped out by the blue 
on sunny days. On very cloudy days 



even the greens cannot be seen and 
the water appears gray, even black, 
due to the weak light. 

During a rain the air is filled with 
droplets of water, and because it is 
necessarily always cloudy during 
storms, the sky is dark. If, however, 
there should be a break in the clouds 
and the sunlight streams through, we 
may obtain one of Nature's most 
spectacular color displays — a rainbow. 
A water droplet at a certain angle 
between the sun's rays and your eye 
can act like a prism and break up the 
sunlight into the spectrum of colors. All 
the raindrops in the air which are 
located at the proper angle act 
cooperatively, each contributing its 
small share, producing the strong and 
bright spectrum which we observe. 

Sunrises and sunsets usually present 
the most memorable displays of color 
in the sky — red, yellow, orange, pink, 
blue-greens, and greens. These colors 
become prominent because the sun's 
rays are passing through more of the 
earth's atmosphere when the sun is 
close to the horizon. So, before it 
reaches your eye most of the blue end 
of the spectrum has been removed by 
scattering downward and upward. In 
addition, because of daytime winds and 
animal and human activities during the 
daylight hours, many particles of dust 
have been lofted into the air. These aid 
in scattering the blue wavelengths out 
of the sunlight making it appear redder. 
The more such dust in the air, the 
more spectacular the sunset. This is 
why sunsets are often redder in 
populous areas, around cities, where 
there are a great many more dust and 
smoke particles in the air than in 
isolated places. It is also the reason 
that sunrises are usually less 
spectacular than sunsets; animal and 
human activities are much diminished 
during the dark hours of the night, so 



Photos: At left — Nortti American Nebula in Cygnus; 
from Hale Observatories, Pasadena, California; 
copyright by California Institute of Technology and 
Carnegie Institute of Technology. At right, from top 
to bottom — Novacekite, a uranium mineral; 
Smithsonite, a zinc mineral, which comes in several 
different colors; and Cuprite, a copper mineral. 



there is less dust in the air at sunrise. 
Also, the dust from the previous day 
has settled during the night and night 
breezes are commonly less gusty, 
raising less dust. This again is different 
in populous areas. In large cities it is 
common to burn trash during the 
nighttime hours, giving the air an 
abundant supply of fine particles that 
scatter the morning's rays, producing 
redder sunrises than might otherwise 
be the case. 

Most of us are not accustomed to 
thinking of color in the space away 
from our earth. It is there, albeit it is 
not especially spectacular. The planet 
Mars is a definite rusty red color; Venus 
is snow white; Mercury and our moon 
are gray; the planet Neptune is pale 
green; and Jupiter has a huge, bright 
red spot in its upper atmosphere that 
revolves around the giant planet. 
Beyond our solar system the stars 
themselves show a range of colors — 
some red, some yellow, some brilliant 
white. 




The color of any mineral is purely an 
accidental feature of it. This is in 
contrast to plants and animals where 
coloration usually plays a significant 
role in several aspects of survival. For 
a given mineral, whether it has one 
color or another is purely immaterial 
and irrelevant from the mineral's point 
of view, if an inanimate object can be 
thought of as having a point of view. 



Bulletin May 1971 



15 



The origin of colors in most minerals is 
only poorly understood. It is not 
uncommon for a specific mineral to 
show a wide variety of colors in its 
different occurrences in nature. The 
common mineral fluorite, for example, 
has been found in twelve different 
colors. In some instances fluorite will 
show a color change within a single 
crystal — a matter of an inch or less. 
There is no clear explanation of the 
wide variety of colors in this mineral. 

Occasionally, however, color can be 
related to the chemical composition of 
a mineral. Manganese minerals are 
often red; cobalt minerals often pink; 
copper minerals often green, and so 
forth. It is, unfortunately, not always 
that simple. Some copper minerals are 
blue; some manganese minerals black; 
some cobalt minerals silver colored. 
There are no perfect rules in this 
regard. 

A minor impurity can sometimes cause 
a mineral color to change. The mineral 
called microcline is normally creamy 
white. With a small impurity of lead 
(about 0.03 percent), it is a startling 
blue-green color that is attractive 
enough to create a demand for the 
mineral as a semi-precious gemstone 
— called Amazonstone. The mineral 
sphalerite, a compound of zinc and 
sulfur, in its pure form is pale amber 
in color. A few tenths of a percent of 
iron impurity cause it to darken to a 
shiny black, called blackjack by miners. 

The chemical addition of oxygen to a 
mineral always alters the color and 
properties. Minerals that contain small 
amounts of iron become pink or 
reddish-brown by oxidation. In the 
extreme case, a mineral can be 
completely converted by this process 
to a new mineral with a very different 
appearance. The mineral galena, for 
example, is a lustrous metallic gray. It 
is a combination of equal parts of lead 
and sulfur. When it is oxidized with 
four parts oxygen, it becomes the 
mineral called anglesite, which is clear, 
transparent, and colorless — very 
different from galena in appearance. 



Heating a mineral in air can sometimes 
cause mild oxidation to take place. 
This principle has been used for 
centuries in the gem industry. When 
gem quality green beryl is mined, it is 
routinely heated in air for a period of 
days. This sometimes converts it to a 
medium-blue color, and it is then 
called aquamarine, which is a good 
deal more valuable than green beryl. 
Similarly, colorless to pale pink 
spodumene can be converted to the 
deep rose-colored gem kunzite, and 
gray zoisite to a deep blue gem called 
tanzanite. 

It has long been known that exposure 
to radioactivity and X-rays can change 
the color of a mineral. Quartz becomes 
smoky, white topaz becomes brown, 
white fluorite becomes purple. Such 
radioactively induced changes are not 
always permanent, however. Once the 
mineral is removed from its radioactive 
surroundings it will often gradually 
revert to its original color. 

In some rare instances a mineral will 
change its color when the atoms that 
compose it are geometrically 
rearranged. The best examples of this 
phenomenon are the minerals 
composed of simple carbon. When the 
carbon atoms are arranged in stacks of 
planar sheets, the mineral is black and 
shiny, almost metallic in appearance. 
It is called graphite. When the same 
carbon atoms are relinked into a 
three-dimensional network, the mineral 
is transparent, clear, and brilliant — 
diamond. 

Probably the questions that are most 
often asked a mineralogist by the public 
pertain to why minerals exhibit the 
often striking colors they do. These are, 
regrettably, just the questions that 
cannot be answered. One can 
occasionally produce a weak reply, . 
knowing that the "answer" is really no 
answer at all. A great deal is known 
about the properties of mineral 
structures — their physical and electrical 
properties, geometrical properies, etc. 
Unfortunately, these are not the aspects 
about which most people are curious. 



One could say that if so little is known 
about coloration in minerals, perhaps 
the mineralogist ought to devote some 
effort to a study of it. Mineralogy, like 
most of the geological sciences, 
depends heavily for its advances in 
understanding upon advances in the 
disciplines of physics and chemistry. 
Mineral color is the result of the 
interaction of light upon solid matter — 
the chemical compounds we call 
minerals. Search for a real 
understanding of color production in 
these solids leads us immediately back 
to the question of the nature of light 
itself. And that, as we have seen, 
leads right back to the dual nature of 
light as a form of electromagnetic 
radiation — one of the major unresolved 
questions of the physical universe today. 



Dr. Edward J. Olsen is curator of mineralogy 
in the Department of Geology at 
Field -Museum. 



16 



Bulletin May 1971 



CALENDAR 



HOURS 

9 a.m. to 6 p.m. Saturday-Thursday 
9 a.m. to 9 p.m. Friday 

The Museum Library is open 9 a.m. 
to 4:30 p.m. Monday through Friday 



CONTINUING 

Color in Nature, an exhibit of broad scope, 
examines the nature and variety of color 
in the physical and living world around us, 
and how it functions in plants and animals 
in their struggle for survival, reproduction, 
and evolution. It focuses on the many roles 
of color, as in mimicry, camouflage, warning, 
sexual recognition and selection, energy 
channeling, and vitamin production, using 
specimens from the Museum's huge 
collections. Through October 10. Hall 25. 

The Afro-American Styie, From the Design 
Works of Bedford-Stuyvesant, an exhibit of 
hand-printed textiles blending classical 
African motifs and contemporary design. 
The original African art from Field Museum's 
Benin collection, which inspired many of 
the designs, is shown in conjunction with 
the textiles. Through September 12. Hall 9. 

Jolin James Audubon's elephant folio. 
The Birds of America, on display in the 
North Lounge. A different plate from the 
rare, first-edition set is featured each day. 

75tli Anniversary Exiiibit: A Sense of 
Wonder, A Sense of History, A Sense of 
Discovery, explores Field Museum's past 
and present and some of its current 
research projects in a new and exciting 
manner. Continues indefinitely. Hall 3. 

BEGINS MAY 7 

"Portraits of Man," a selection of sculptures 
by Malvina Hoffman of people from various 
parts of the world, on permanent display in 
the second floor corridors overlooking 
Stanley Field Hall and in the North and 
South Lounges. These bronze and stone 



sculptures are some of the finest 
representations of Malvina Hoffman's work 
in Field Museum's collections. 

THROUGH MAY 15 

Portrait of tfie Cliippewa, a collection of 
100 photographs edited from over 5,000 
negatives taken on the Red Lake Indian 
reservation in Northern Minnesota. The 
exhibit portrays the Chippewa in his culture 
and shows him in relation to his family and 
his way of life. South Lounge. 

THROUGH MAY 16 

A rare, wiid aibino minit, in a special 
display in the South Lounge. This almost 
adult female specimen is the gift of Terry L. 
Perry of Johnston, Iowa, who captured it 
about 16 months ago. 

BEGINS MAY 17 

A Specimen of the Conus glorlamarts, the 

most famous sea shell and one of the 
world's rarest, shown in the South Lounge 
through July 11. Acquisition of this perfect 
specimen was made possible through the 
generosity of Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Moulding. 

THROUGH MAY 31 

"To See or Not to See," Spring Journey 
for Children, helps them learn about the 
diversity of colors and color patterns of 
selected animals, as well as the advantages 
»f mimicry and pigmentation changes, with 
the aid of a questionnaire. All youngsters 
who can read and write may participate 
in the free program. Journey sheets are 
available at Museum entrances. 



BEGINS JUNE 1 

"Dinosaur Hunt," Summer Journey for 
Children, seeks out Museum exhibits and 
paintings with the aid of a question and 
answer sheet, to acquaint youngsters with 
the prehistoric animals. All boys and girls 
who can read and write may participate in 
the free program. Journey sheets are 
available at Museum entrances. Through 
August 31. 



MEETINGS 



May 11: 



Nature Camera Club of 



7:45 p.m., 
Chicago 
May 11: 8 p.m., Chicagoland Glider Council 
May 12: 7 p.m., Chicago Ornithological 

Society 
May 13: 7:30 p.m.. Windy City Grotto- 
National Speleological Society 
May 16: 2 p.m., Illinois Orchid Society 
May 23: 2 p.m., Chicago Shell Club 




^ NIGHTS 

i MAY 6 AND 7, 1971 ' 
6:00 to 10:00 p.m. 

Exhibits, films, entertainment, and special 
events focus on "The World Around Us." 



-S:^^fi^ 



This is a once-a-year opportunity to meet 

with the members 

of the scientific staff 

in all the departments — 

anthropology, botany, geology, 

and zoology — and to see the 

unusual behind-the-scenes displays and *i 

demonstrations they have arranged for you. 




Programs for both evenings are identical. 
Friday night >* attendance probably 
will be much 1\ heavier, since families 
with children \\ prefer that evening. 
You are urged r>\, to plan on coming 
Thursday night y^^S if you don't have 
school children. ]}__/j: j,__ JJ,.^,^ 



Volume 42, Number 6 June 1971 

Field Museum of Natural History 



BULLETIN 








BULLETIN 



Volume 42, Number 6 
June 1971 




Cover: Gibbon species show three different 
patterns of color variation; monomorphism, 
all the same color; asexual dimorphism, 
color unrelated to sex; and sexual 
dimorphism, color linked to sex. 



2 Color and Sex in Gibbons 

Jack Fooden 

gibbons vary in hair color, much as do human beings; an 
evolutionary theory of variation is now being worked out which 
involves some interesting relationships between sex and color 

8 (Members' Nights 

7,205 members visit behind the scenes; are you among them? 

10 Forward and Bacl(ward Glances 

John R. Millar 

May 2, 1971 marked fiftieth birthday of Museum building on the 

lake front 

12 The Campo del Cielo Meteorite 

Edward J. Olsen 

a new-found piece of an old meteorite presents some special 

problems 

13 Book Reviews 

14 Field Briefs 
16 Letters 

Calendar 



Field Museum of Natural History 
Director, E. Leiand Webber 

Editor Joyce Zibro; Associate Editor Elizabeth Munger; Staff Writer Madge Jacobs; Production Russ Becker; Photography John Bayalis, 
Fred Huysmans. 

The Bulletin is published monthly by Field Museum of Natural History, Roosevelt Road at Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, Illinois 60605. Subscrip- 
tions: $9 a year; $3 a year for schools. Members of the Museum subscribe through Museum membership. Opinions expressed by authors 
are their own and do not necessarily reflect the policy of Field Museum. Unsolicited manuscripts are welcome. Printed by Field Museum 
Press. Application to mail at second-class postage rates is pending at Chicago, Illinois. Postmaster: Please send form 3579 to Field Museum 
of Natural History, Roosevelt Road at Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, Illinois 60605. 



Bulletin June 1971 



\* * 










Color and sex in gibbons 



Jack Fooden 



Gibbons are small thickly furred apes 
that live in the dense tropical rain 
forests of Southeast Asia. They are 
the smallest of the four so-called 
anthropoids or apes — the tailless 
non-human primates that most closely 
resemble the human primate, us. The 
gorilla, chimpanzee, and orangutan are 
the other three. Gibbons are highly 
skilled brachiators, unlike the larger 
apes (and virtually all monkeys). That is, 
their characteristic mode of locomotion 
is swinging from branch to branch by 
their arms. In fact, they are often 
spectacular "trapeze artists," making 
aerial leaps as wide as forty-five feet. 
They are also highly vocal. Their loud 
singing, especially in early morning, 
can be heard for more than a mile 
through the forest. It probably serves to 
establish territorial feeding boundaries 
between neighboring troops. Some 
species have a highly expandable 
resonating throat pouch which gives 
several tones to their hoots and wails, 
and at a decibel level that would be 
appreciated by admirers of our own 
echo-chamber and electronic 
amplification technology. 

Many Gibbons live in monogamous 
"nuclear family" troops consisting of a 
mother, father, and up to three 
offspring, of ages two years apart. The 
family would usually be no larger than 
five because gibbons breed only every 
two years, only one infant is born at a 
time, and when the oldest offspring is 
around six it is chased out of this 
family circle. Gibbons are in their 
prime between ages seven and 
seventeen, although their maximum life 
span is about twenty-five years. 

All of these behavioral characteristics 
make the various species of gibbons, 
genus Hylobates, inherently interesting 
to the species sapiens, genus Homo. 

The great French zoologist of the 18th 
century, Buffon, was the first person to 



A blond H. lar entelloides, an asexualiy 
dimorphic subspecies. Photo by Saul 
Kitchener. 



describe the animals in some detail to 

the West. His information was a 

by-product of French colonial incursions 

into the gibbon's native regions in 

Southeast Asia. But the Chinese have 

long known and been fascinated by 

gibbons. The history of their interest 

in gibbons was recently documented by 

the late R. H. van Gulick, Lift. D., a 

gentleman scholar whose own affection 

for the animals developed in the course 

of his career in the Far East in the 

diplomatic service of his country, the 

Netherlands: 

From the first centuries of our era on, 
Chinese writers have celebrated the gibbon 
in prose and poetry, dwelling in loving detail 
on his habits, both in the wild and in 
captivity. Great Chinese painters have 
drawn the gibbon in all shapes and 
attitudes; till about the 14th century from 
living models, and when thereafter the 
increasing deforestation had reduced the 
gibbon's habitat to southwest China, basing 
their pictures on the work of former painters 
and on hearsay. So important was the 
gibbon in Chinese art and literature, that he 
migrated to Japan and Korea together with 
the other Chinese literary and artistic 
motifs, although I neither 1 Japan nor Korea 
ever belonged to the gibbons' habitat. The 
gibbon thus occupies a unique place in 
Far Eastern culture, it being possible to 
trace the extent of his habitat, his 
appearance and his mannerisms for more 
than two thousand years. 

The gibbon has been considered by 
the Chinese from ancient times to be the 
aristocrat among apes and monkeys; 
he symbolized a "gentleman." The 
macaque, on the other hand, "was the 
symbol of human astute trickery but 
also of human credulity and general 
foolishness," according to van Gulick. 

The philosopher Huai-nan-tzu, who died 

in 122 B.C., wrote a parable that 

became a kind of proverb through the 

ages: 

If you put a gibbon inside a cage, you 
might as well keep a pig. It is not because 
the gibbon is then not clever or swift 
anymore, but because he has no opportunity 
for displaying his abilities. 

Whatever mythological or symbolic 
significance became attached to the 
gibbon, close observation was involved 
also. However, thorough modern 
behavioral studies of gibbons have 
only recently begun to be made. 



But there is another, non-behavioral, 
characteristic of gibbons that is most 
interesting to me as an evolutionary 
zoologist. The color of the dense fur 
that covers the body of gibbons varies 
strikingly from one species to another, 
and in some species from one 
individual to another. The colors range 
from pale silver-gray to blond to 
medium brown to dark brunet or 
blackish. This coat color variation 
presents an intriguing problem for 
evolutionary interpretation. Some 
interpretations can now be made, at 
least tentatively, on the basis of 
evidence already available. 

I first became seriously interested in 
the problem of gibbon coat colors in 
1967 as a result of an expedition to 
western Thailand that I conducted for 
Field Museum, with the support of a 
grant from the U.S. Public Health 
Service. 

Although our primary objective was to 
study monkeys that inhabit the forests 
of this region, my field companions and 
I collected several gibbon specimens 
also, of the species Hylobates lar — 
more particularly, the subspecies or 
race Hylobates lar entelloides. One of 
the most striking things about this 
subspecies is that there are two 
sharply defined color types — blonds, 
which are pale yellowish buff, and 
brunets, which are blackish brown. 
The local people in Thailand call them 
cha-nee l<liao ("white gibbon") and 
cha-nee dam ("black gibbon"). I knew 
these color types existed because the 
fact had been reported in scientific 
literature, and also the observation that 
coat color in this subspecies is 
completely independent of age and sex. 
We collected or observed blond males 
and brunet males and blond females 
and brunet females at all stages of 
development from infancy to old age. 

When I returned to Chicago and began 
to study the specimens and other data 
that we had collected, I became 
curious about color variation in other 
subspecies and species of gibbons. 
From one source or another — published 



Bulletin June 1971 



Mother and infant of the H. syndactylus 
species, brunet and monomorphic. Photo 
by Saul Kitchener. 



zoological literature and also previously 
collected museum specimens — I found 
information about color for all of the 
seven known species of gibbons. I 
learned that some are like the kind we 
collected in Thailand — that is, the 
animals have different colors 
independent of age or sex; in others, 
all individuals of one sex are one color 
and all individuals of the other sex are 
a different color; and in still others, all 
individuals are the same color. But this 
information apparently had never been 
brought together and analyzed 
systematically. My subsequent study of 
the available information revealed a 
fairly clear pattern of coat color 
variation in gibbons. 

These three major categories of coat 
color variation just mentioned can be 
designated by the somewhat formidable 
technical terms asexual dimorphism, 
sexual dimorphism, and monomorphism. 
These terms could, of course, apply to 
other characters as well as coat color. 

The term asexual dimorphism implies 
that both males and females may be 
either blond or brunet, as in the 
populations I encountered in Thailand. 
The term sexual dimorphism indicates 
that coat color is correlated with sex. 
The term monomorphism implies that 
all members of a species or 
subspecies at any given place — any 
local population — have essentially the 
same coat color. 

The seven species of gibbons that 
zoologists usually recognize have the 
following scientific names: Hylobates 
lar; H. agilis; H. hoolock; H. concolor; 
H. moloch; H. syndactylus: and H. 
klossii. Mostly the respective geographic 
ranges of these species are adjacent 
to one another and do not overlap. In 
Sumatra and Malaya, however, two 
species of gibbons inhabit the same 
forests. 

The first species mentioned, H. lar, has 
four subspecies: H. lar entelloides, the 
gibbons I collected; H. lar lar; H. lar 
pileatus; and H. lar vestitus. So far as 
coat color is concerned, this species 




as a whole is different from the other 
six, and the four subgroups must be 
considered separately. Although most 
of the other six also have recognizable 
subspecies, the pattern of coat color 
variation is constant within each 
species. 

H. agilis, like H. lar entelloides, is 
asexually dimorphic — that is, both 
males and females may be either 
blond or brunet. So is H. lar lar. The 
agilis species inhabits all of Sumatra 
except the northern tip and inhabits 
also a small area on the western coast 
of Malaya. Adjacent to it on the north 
lives the lar entelloides subspecies, 
which inhabits part of the Malay 
Peninsula plus northern and western 
Thailand. And also adjacent to it on 
the east is the lar lar subspecies, in 
Malaya. All these species' territories 
are shown on the map. 

The two species H. hoolock and H. 
concolor and the subspecies H. lar 
pileatus are all sexually dimorphic — 
that is, coat color is correlated with 
sex. In each of these three groups all 
adult males are brunet and, whether 
or not these gibbon gentlemen prefer 



blonds, that is what they get, 
because all adult females are blond. 
Surprisingly, all hoolock and concolor 
infants are pale colored at birth and 
turn dark before they are one year old. 
Males remain dark from then on, and 
females turn pale again when they 
reach sexual maturity, at about six 
years of age. In lar pileatus, all infants 
are born pale; males turn dark as they 
mature; and females apparently develop 
only dark patches, with most of their 
body remaining pale. 

These color changes are a normal part 
of development and are unique to 
sexually dimorphic gibbons. Asexually 
dimorphic and monomorphic gibbons 
remain whatever color they are at birth. 
All three of the sexually dimorphic 
groups — hoolock, concolor, and lar 
pileatus — inhabit the Indochinese 
Peninsula. In Assam and Burma west 
of the Salween River is hoolock; 
concolor is east of the Mekong River 
in southern China, Laos, Vietnam, and 
Cambodia; with lar pileatus adjacent to 
the west and south, in Cambodia, 
Laos, and Thailand. 

The three species H. moloch, H. 
syndactylus. and H. klossii and the 
subspecies H. lar vestitus are all 
monomorphic — that is, all members of 
each group at any given place have 
essentially the same coat color. The 
moloch group inhabits both Java, 
where all individuals are pale grey, and 
Borneo, where all individuals are 
brown. All syndactylus individuals are 
blackish, in both Sumatra and Malaya. 
The dwarf gibbon klossii, which is 
restricted to four small islands off the 
western coast of Sumatra, is also 
blackish. And lar vestitus, in northern 
Sumatra, is always medium brown. 

Viewed overall, the color variations in 
gibbons present a fairly simple and 
regular geographic pattern, as 
indicated by the shadings on the map. 
The monomorphic species and 
subspecies (moloch, syndactylus, 
klossii, and lar vestitus) are restricted 
to the southern part of the total range 
of gibbons. The asexually dimorphic 



Bulletin June 1971 



Distribution of Coat Color Types in 
Species and Subspecies of Gibbons 



sexual dimorphism, ^9 : H. hoolock, H. concofor, 
H. lar pileaius 

asexual dimorphism, i<S%Q : H. lar entelloides, 

H. lar lar, H. agllla 



monomorphism, (f a : H. far vestitus, H. klossii, 
H. syndactflus, H. moloch 




Bulletin June 1971 



species and subspecies (agllis, lar lar, 
and lar entelloides) inhabit the middle 
part of the range. The sexually 
dimorphic species and subspecies 
{concolor, hoolock, and lar pileatus) 
inhabit the northernmost part of the 
range. This simple geographic 
distribution suggests that there may be 
a simple evolutionary relationship 
among the three major categories of 
color variation. 

One problem in formulating an 
evolutionary interpretation of coat color 
variation in gibbons is to decide what 
the probable ancestral or primitive 
color state may have been. Because 
about 45 of the 50 known major 
groups of primates are monomorphic 
with respect to coat color, it seems 
probable that monomorphism is the 
primitive color state in gibbons. 
Accordingly, the simplest interpretation 
of color evolution in gibbons is that 
monomorphism is the ancestral 
condition, that monomorphic gibbons 
gave rise to asexually dimorphic 
gibbons, and that these in turn 
subsequently gave rise to sexually 
dimorphic gibbons. The present 
geographic distribution of these color 
states suggests that the postulated 
transition from monomorphism to 
asexual dimorphism took place in the 
southern part of the range and that the 
transition from asexual dimorphism to 
sexual dimorphism took place in the 
northern part of the range. 

If the hypothesis presented above 
correctly interprets the direction and 
geography of the evolution of color 
variation in gibbons, the next question 
to be asked is. Why did these 
evolutionary changes occur? In other 
words, what is the selective force or 
survival value that is responsible for 
the presumed change from 
monomorphism to asexual dimorphism 
and finally to sexual dimorphism? 
Although there is no comprehensive 
answer to this question as yet, there 
are some clues that seem to indicate 
possibly productive directions for 
future research. 



First, at least part of the genetic basis 
of color evolution in gibbons seems to 
be clear. From study of families of 
asexually dimorphic gibbons that I 
observed in Thailand and from 
information provided by other 
observers, it appears that two blond 
gibbon parents virtually always produce 
blond offspring, whereas two brunet 
gibbon parents may produce both 
blond and brunet offspring. This 
pattern of hair color inheritance is 
essentially the same as in human 
blonds and brunets. Blondness in 
gibbons, as in humans, appears to be 
a genetically recessive trait, and 
brunetness a genetically dominant 
trait. In the sexually dimorphic species 
and subspecies of gibbons, the genetic 
factor that controls coat color evidently 
has somehow become linked to the 
genetic factor that determines sex. 

Another fragment of evidence that 
bears on the evolution of color 
variation in gibbons is the fact that in 
the asexually dimorphic species and 

A juvenile white-ctieeked male H. concolor, 
necessarily brunet because the species is 
sexually dimorphic. Photo by Saul 
Kitchener. 




subspecies the proportion of blond and 
brunet individuals varies from place to 
place. In the ag/7/s species, brunets 
constitute about 50 percent of 
populations observed in Sumatra and 
about 75 percent of those observed in 
Malaya. In lar lar and lar entelloides, 
brunets constitute about 80 percent of 
populations in the southern part of the 
Malay Peninsula, about 10 percent in 
the northern part of the Malay 
Peninsula, and about 50 percent in 
Thailand. This also is reminiscent of 
the situation with respect to human 
hair color, if we consider, for example, 
the percentage of blonds and brunets 
in local populations in Italy, 
Switzerland, Germany, and Sweden. 

It seems probable that color variation 

in gibbons may play a role in territorial 

relationships between adjacent troops. 

It is known that in some gibbons 

self-display is an important part of 

establishing territorial rights. This is 

evident in a report published by the 

American primatologist John Ellefson, 

who studied wild populations of H. 

lar lar in Malaya for about eighteen 

months. 

Adult males (from neighboring troops] in a 
conflict hang by one arm and swing back 
and forth, and twist around 360 degrees in 
either direction without changing the hand 
grip; they change hands every few seconds; 
they appear to be making themselves 
conspicuous, advertising their position. They 
look in all directions and conflict-hoo [a 
characteristic vocalizationl as they swing 
and dangle. 

It may only be coincidence, but territorial 
vocalizations are also prominent in the 
behavior of South American howler 
monkeys, which constitute one of the 
few other primate groups that exhibit 
coat color sexual dimorphism. Perhaps 
vocalization and coat color display are 
functionally interrelated forms of 
territorial behavior. 

It also appears probable that color 
variation in gibbons may be 
significantly related to differences in 
troop size. The French zoologist Pierre 
Pfeffer recently reported that troops of 
the sexually dimorphic lar pileatus 
subspecies that he observed in 



Bulletin June 1971 



Painting In Osaka Fine Arts Gallery entitled Ch'u-yiian-fu, "Picture of a group of gibbons," 

by I Yiian-chi, lltfi century, done on a fiorizontal silk scroll about 30 cm. fiigfi and 

120 cm. long. Printed by permission of Municipal Gallery of Fine Art, Osaka, Japan. 




Cambodia were very much smaller than 
troops of the monomorphic moloch 
species in Borneo. If these two groups 
of gibbons differ in troop size, they 
probably also differ In the Internal social 
organization of troops. Color variation 
may well function as some sort of social 
signal within a troop. 

Another intriguing fact Is that coat color 
is related to mate selection in asexually 
dimorphic gibbons. Gibbons of the 
agilis species in Sumatra tend to select 
mates with coat colors opposite to their 
own. In almost all troops in this 
species, blond adult males are mated 
to brunet adult females, and brunet 
males are mated to blond females. 
But in the lar entelloides subspecies, 
the situation apparently Is exactly the 
reverse. In the vast majority of troops 
observed by myself and others in 
Thailand, mated pairs were either both 
blond or both brunet. In sexually 
dimorphic groups (concolor, hoolock, 
and lar pileatus) males and females are 
of course oppositely colored In all 
matlngs because all adult males are 
brunet and all adult females are blond. 

Dr. Robert van Gulick's book The Gibbon 
in China, mentioned earlier, provides 
western zoologists with previously 
unavailable evidence concerning the 
probable past distribution of gibbons In 
eastern China, far beyond their present 
geographic range. This versatile Dutch 
diplomat's systematic search for 
references to gibbons in ancient 
Chinese literature and art covered the 
period from 1500 B.C. to the end of the 
ivling dynasty (A.D. 1644). His research 



indicates that as late as 1 ,000 years ago 
gibbons ranged northeastward in China 
as far as the Yellow River, southwest of 
Peking, which Is about 800 miles 
northeast of their present northern limit 
of distribution. The disappearance of 
gibbons In China during historic times 
presumably is the result of deforestation 
of their habitat, which Is correlated in 
China, as elsewhere, with development 
of advanced agricultural civilization. 

The early depictions of Chinese gibbons 
in scroll paintings are lifelike, detailed, 
and apparently zoologically accurate. 
To judge from these paintings, the 
gibbon that formerly Inhabited eastern 
China was agilis, the asexually 
dimorphic species now confined to 
Sumatra and northwestern Ivlalaya, 
1 ,000 miles south of China. If this 
identification Is correct, the puzzling 
geographic history of asexually 
dimorphic H. agilis Is one more element 
that eventually will have to be 
incorporated into a comprehensive 
account of the evolution of coat color 
variation in gibbons. 

Although the direction of gibbon coat 
color evolution now seems fairly clear, 
at present we are still a long way from 
understanding the possible function of 
color variation and the forces of natural 
selection that may be responsible for its 
evolution. Perhaps future comparative 
study of the behavior of gibbon troops 
which represent different categories of 
color variation may help to clear up 
some of the unresolved problems. Of 
course we can anticipate that new 
answers will In turn open up new 



questions. But that is part of what 
keeps museum zoologists interested in 
the study of animals and their evolution. 



REFERENCES 

Comte George Louis Leclerc de Buffon. 
Histoire Naturelle, vol. 14. Paris: 1766. 

Jotin Oscar Ellefson. "A Natural History of 
Gibbons in the Malay Peninsula." Ph.D. 
dissertation, University of California, 
Berkeley, 1967. 

Jack Fooden. "Color-Phase in Gibbons," in 
Evolution, vol. 23, no. 4, December 30, 1969, 
pp. 627-644. 

Jack Fooden. "Report on Primates Collected 
in Western Thailand, January-April, 1967." 
Fieldiana: Zoology, vol. 59, no. 1, March 31, 
1971. 

R. H. van Gulick, Litt.D. The Gibbon in 
China — An Essay in Chinese Animal Lore. 
Leiden, Holland: E. J. Brill, 1967, released 
1969. 

Pierre Pfetfer. "Considerations sur 
I'Ecologie-lorets Claires du Cambodge 
Oriental," in La Terre et la Vie, no. 1, 
1969. pp. 3-24. 



Dr. Jack Fooden is research associate at 
Field Museum and professor of zoology at 
Chicago State College. 



Bulletin June 1971 








Were you here? 

Members' Nights 

May 6 and 7 



7,205 members were. 



Photos by 

Ray Burley 

and 

Fred Huysmans 



Bulletin June 1971 



Forward and backward glances 




Construction, May 11, 1917. 



May 2, 1971 marked the fiftieth 
anniversary of the opening of Field 
Museum's present building to the 
public. The Museum had moved the 
year before from its first home, the 
Palace of Fine Arts Building in 
Jackson Park, erected for the World 
Columbian Exposition of 1893. The 
moving operation had been both unique 
and somewhat spectacular because of 
its size and the nature of the material. 
When before had anyone seen the head 
of an elephant riding rampant on the 
deck of a railroad flat car? The vast 
collections, exhibits, and library had 
been transferred to a substantial, 
carefully designed and elegant new 
home that fully expressed the ideals, 
dreams, and best judgment of 
experienced museum officers and staff. 

Three days before, Carl Sandburg, in an 
article in the Da/7y News, had written 
under the title "World Wonders are in 
Field Museum:" 

The navy recruiting slogan for young men 
is, "See the World." An older admonition is, 
"See Rome and die." But the one heard 
most often in this country in recent years 
is, "See America first." Before starting, 
however, to see either the world or Rome 
or America first, a few good long trips 
around the Field Museum are worth while. 
The museum has a number of specimens 
and articles rather difficult to find even in 
a trip around the world. Also there are a 
few bits of paraphernalia not to be found 
anywhere in whatsoever rambles a tourist 
might choose to make between the equator 
and either of the poles. 



The 8,000 or more people who visited 
the Museum on May 2, 1921, journeyed 
over unpaved roads, cinder paths, and 
board walks to a magnificent white 
marble building set apart in a kind of 
no-man's land surrounded by 
hummocks of ungraded fill containing 
a great deal of trash and populated by 
a fair number of rodents. There were 
no other buildings. Shedd Aquarium, 
Soldier Field, and Adier Planetarium 
came much later. 

On opening day the exhibits were 
essentially the same in appearance as 
when on view in the Jackson Park 
building. Case interiors were black and 
crowded with specimens; exhibition 
labels were black with silver gray 
lettering. There was a variety of 
furniture, some of which was obsolete 
even then. There seemed to be a vast 
amount of space. Some departments 
fitted rather loosely in the area assigned 
to them. The large exhibition halls were 
intended for daylight illumination. 
Alternate interior halls on the first floor 
had glass skylight ceilings. There was 
no individual case lighting. On dark 
days ceiling fixtures hardly dispelled the 
gloom as black case interiors absorbed 
all available light. There were no 
built-in habitat groups or exhibition 
cases. 

But almost as soon as the spacious 
building was occupied, things placed 




There were no other buildings. Shedd Aquarium, Soldier Field, and AdIer Planetarium came 
much later. 



10 



Bulletin June 1971 



John R. Millar 



according to plan, and the Museum 
once more open to visitors, a new and 
vigorous growth began like that of a 
seedling tree in spring. There ensued 
a period of unusually active field and 
expeditionary work in all departments 
made possible by an enlarged scientific 
and preparatory staff and the generous 
financial support of a number of 
individuals, especially tvlr. Stanley Field, 
president, Mr. Marshall Field III, and 
other trustees of the Museum. Central 
and South America, Africa and Asia, as 
well as various areas of the United 
States and subarctic Canada were the 
locale of numerous expeditions that 
resulted in large scientific collections 
as well as studies and specimens for 
exhibition. With this impetus an 
accelerated program in all manner of 
Museum activities followed — research, 
publication of scientific reports, 
exhibitions and education — that 
continues to the present. 

Along the way numerous changes have 
been made in the physical plant, in 
storage facilities and in exhibits. The 
ground floor, which was largely earthen 
and unpaved in 1921, was completed 
and made into exhibition halls, storage 
and work areas. The flow of steam for 
heating was radically rerouted by 
moving the main pipes from the ground 
floor to the third floor to obtain a more 
even distribution of heat and to rid the 
newly created exhibition halls of 
unsightly pipes. With the exception of 
Stanley Field Hall, all skylights in 
exhibition halls have been covered and 
nearly all windows closed. Exhibits 
were then individually lighted. Even this 
change went by stages beginning with 
incandescent lamps, followed through 
the years by various kinds of fluorescent 
lights as technological developments 
in industry made better lamps available. 
Now inadequate, obsolete wiring limits 
progress in further improvements that 
require more electrical power. 

The continuing effort of the staff to 
improve the content, organization, and 




When before had anyone seen the head of an elephant riding rampant on the deck of a 
railroad flat car? 



appearance of exhibits has produced 
many changes. There is no exhibition 
hall in the Museum that has not been 
renovated at least once since opening 
day; some have been revised several 
times. Four large halls have been 
cleared, the material retired or 
transferred to other halls, and the space 
vacated is being used for work areas, 
the storage of study collections, and for 
temporary exhibits. The result has been 
the creation of a number of exhibits for 
which the Museum is world famous. 
Likewise study collections and library 
resources have grown to an importance 
and usefulness that compel 
consideration as source material by 
students and researchers in several 
areas of the biological sciences and 
anthropology. Published reports based 
on studies of Museum materials have 
added much to knowledge of our world 
as it was, is, and conceivably as it may 
become. 

Anniversaries invite forward as well as 



backward glances whether they are 
taken singly as annual reports or in 
decades or multiples thereof for the 
longer view. The slogan of the fiftieth 
anniversary of the founding of the 
Museum in 1893 was, "A living museum 
is a growing museum." Growth in a 
museum implies change, certain kinds 
of institutional "growing pains," and 
outmoding of vesture. A living museum 
is never finished. It serves its 
community and the natural sciences as 
no other social institution can and to 
continue this service is the purpose and 
function of Field Museum of Natural 
History. 



John R. Millar is lormer deputy director ol 
Field Museum arid lormer chief curator of 
botany. He joined the Field Museum stall in 
1918. Although now retired, he works as a 
volunteer in the care ol the economic 
collections in the Department of Botany. 



Bulletin June 1971 



11 



the 

campo del cielo 

meteorite 



When the early Spanish settlers slowly 
pushed their way Into the Gran Chaco 
region of north-central Argentina, some 
of them encountered huge masses of 
meteoritic iron scattered over a large 
area. The first written report mentioning 
the find was in 1576 by Hernan Mexia 
de Miraval, who had found a mass that 
weighed about one ton. Much later, in 
1788, Don Rubin de Cells wrote of 
finding a huge mass that he estimated 
to be about 15 tons. So it went through 
the 18th, 19th, and on into the 20th 
centuries, piece after piece being found. 
Pieces over a ton were seen and 
found fairly readily, but as time went on 
the newer finds were generally of 
pieces in the range of several hundred 
pounds. The last piece of any size was 
found in 1937 — and little of any 
consequence has been found since. As 
is the practice with meteorites, all these 
pieces, which are the broken parts of 
a single, prehistoric fall, have been 
named after the local region where they 
were found — Campo del Cielo, "field 
of heaven" in Spanish. 

In 1966 and 1967 Drs. Theodore Bunch 
and William Cassidy, both of the 
National Aeronautics and Space 
Administration, visited the region with 
modern metal-detecting equipment. 
They located three additional large 
pieces, which were buried from view 
under the soil. These were excavated 
and one of them, weighing 103 pounds, 
was crated and shipped to the 
United States. 

To do any research at all on a meteorite 
specimen it is necessary to cut it open 
and grind flat surfaces. Very little 
useful information can be gained from 
the outside alone. With any large piece 
of iron there is always the problem of 
how to cut it. Since most meteorite 
specimens are under 50 pounds, 
laboratory sawing equipment is usually 
small. During a meeting in Virginia in 
October of 1970 Dr. Bunch asked me if 
the Field Museum had large enough 
equipment to cut slices from an iron of 
this size. We don't. But we thought 



Edward J. Olson 




International Harvester Co. machinery 
slices the Campo del Cielo meteorite. 



possibly the Chicago-based 
International Harvester Co. might be 
willing to cut it in their shops where 
they frequently slice large metal stock 
prior to machining. 

The question was put to Museum 
Director E. Leiand Webber and he 
contacted Mr. Harry Bercher, 
chairman of the board of International 
Harvester. They agreed immediately. 
Last March we received the crated iron 
meteorite at the Museum, marked it for 
the cuts, and sent it on to Harvester's 
plant in Hinsdale, Illinois. 

Slicing up meteoritic iron is generally 
a bit tougher than slicing man-made 
steels. Steels are usually chemically 
compounded (alloyed) to make them 
harder and somewhat more brittle than 
meteoritic iron. Also, steels are made 
of numerous microscopic metal crystals. 
Iron meteorites, however, commonly 
consist of only a single huge metal 
crystal, which causes them to be more 
tenacious than steels. Consequently 
meteorites cannot be cut quite as fast 
as man-made steel. As a rough 
comparison, it is like the difference 
between hand-sawing a wet board as 
opposed to sawing through a crisp, dry 
one. 

A large band saw with hardened steel 



blades was used first, but the meteorite 
wore out several such blades. Then a 
switch was made to a super-hard 
carbide-tipped blade, which completed 
the job nicely. We got two good flat 
slices from the middle plus the two end 
pieces. The slices were machined 
smooth on one side so they can be 
polished and acid-etched for study. 

Normally an iron meteorite does not 
excite so much effort. This one has 
become a subject of interest because it 
is not just another common iron 
meteorite. Several years ago it was 
found that some portions of Campo del 
Cielo contained, within the metal, 
masses of stony material which are not 
like the stony matter that makes up 
most stone meteorites. Whenever there 
is the chance of uncovering something 
different from other parts of our solar 
system the extra effort is well 
worthwhile, so this mass of iron was cut 
with the hope it would contain some 
of those unusual foreign inclusions. 
We were pleased to see as the slices 
came off that each one contained two 
large stony masses. 

The pieces of Campo, as the meteorite 
is fondly called, are now going to 
permanent homes. One end piece and 
one slice will be returned to Dr. Bunch 
at the NASA center in Moffett Field, 
California. One end piece will go to 
Dr. Cassidy at the University of 
Pittsburgh, where he is now located. 
And one slice will stay here in the 
growing meteorite collection of the 
Field Museum, as a gift "for services 
rendered." The most important services 
were, of course, rendered by 
International Harvester Co., and Field 
Museum owes them a debt of gratitude 
for their skillful help. 



Dr. Edward J. Olsen is curator ot mineralogy 
in the Department ot Geology at Field 
Museum. 



12 



Bulletin June 1971 



:; I 



y 






;: 



The Year of the Seal 

By Victor B. Scheffer. New York, Charles 
Scribner's Sons, 1970. 205 pp. $7.95. 

The Year of the Seal is a month-by-month 
chronicle ot birth; growth rate; maternal 
care; breeding; behavior of mature bulls, 
young bachelors, mothers, and pups; 
feeding habits of mature seals; and herd 
social hierarchy. 

The story begins in July with the arrival of 
the "Golden Seal," a female with a rare 
yellowish coat who has come to bear her 
pup and to breed again, like thousands of 
other Alaska fur seals, on St. Paul Island, 
the most northerly of the Pribilof Chain. 

A few days after the whelping, the females 
are ready to breed again with the mature 
bulls who had returned to the rookeries in 
June to fight for breeding territory and await 
their harem. The pups remain on the island 
until November, as do their mothers, who 
until then leave only for periodic hunting 
trips in the Bering Sea. 

The Golden Seal migrates southward in 

November and remains at sea until her 
return to St. Paul Island to begin the annual 
cycle anew. Her pup and other yearlings, 
no longer sheltered by adults, set out to sea 
on their own. The seven months from 
December through June are covered by an 
account of the adaptive characters of seals 
which enable them to survive and reproduce: 
the delayed implantation of the fertilized 
egg; the migratory route of the Golden Seal; 
the fish she eats; and the predatory sharks, 
killer whales, and humans she meets 
and fears. 

The background is filled with interesting 
facts about commercial sealing, naturalists 
who devote their lives to the study of seals, 
the role of the government in controlling 
the seal fisheries, and the history of native 
Pribilof Islanders, whose lives are bound up 
in sealing under the watchful eyes of the 
United States Fish and Wildlife Service. 



An excellent map on the inside cover shows 
breeding sites and migratory routes to aid 
the reader in following the story. The 
line-drawing text figures are adequate, but 
photographs of the seals and their rookeries 
would have been welcome. An appendix 
includes a brief history of seals, their origin 
and evolution, and a selected bibliography. 
The comprehensive index provides quick 
access to a wealth of information on seals. 

The author is an outstanding authority on 
marine mammals. Although guilty of some 
anthropomorphisms, he uses the facts — 
many of them of his own discovery — to 
weave a sound, sober, highly readable, 
fascinating, and factual story designed for 
the layman. 

by Barbara Brown, volunteer assistant, 
Division of Mammals, Field Museum. 



The White Dawn 

By James Houston. New York, Harcourt, 
Brace, Jovanovich, 1971. 275 pp. $6.95. 

James Houston's novel about Eskimos and 
one early, tragic contact with white men is 
an exciting, moving tale set along the 
isolated, windswept coast of Baffin Island, 
where the author served the Canadian 
government as an area administrator for 
many years. . 

The narrative begins with extracts from the 
log of a New England whaling ship that 
describe how, on a spring day in 1896, 
several men in a small boat become missing 
while being towed by a harpooned whale. 
The scene then shifts to the winter camp of 
a band of Eskimos who are excited and 
amazed by the arrival of three strangers, 
who are near death from starvation and 
exposure. The families in this camp, led by 
the elderly and strong-willed Sarkak, a 
renowned hunter, have heard of such 
foreigners, whom they believe to be 
descended from dogs, but most have never 
before seen such wondrous beings. The 
three whalers, a sensitive white officer, a 
black harpooner and a hot-tempered white 
seaman, are nursed back to health and 
gradually accepted into the small community 
of igloos. 

Houston's absorbing novel, a Book-of-the- 
Month Club selection, is based on actual 
events which have become part of Eskimo 
folklore. Avinga, a crippled member of the 
camp who thus cannot participate fully in 
an Eskimo man's arduous activities, tells 
the story. Since the Eskimos cannot 
understand their language, the white 
strangers are presented only as the Eskimos 
see them and as Avinga recounts the tale. 
Yet their personalities emerge as we see 
them through Eskimo eyes and as they 



clash, out of ignorance, with Eskimo 
traditions. 

At first, all goes well as the whalers, each 
in his own way, attempt to adjust to this 
new, difficult and, at times, totally mysterious 
life. They form liaisons with willing young 
girls and this is encouraged by Eskimo 
hospitality. Eventually, however, 
misunderstanding and distrust arise out of 
the pride, greed and lust of both Eskimos 
and whites. Once these forces are freed, 
the protagonists careen toward inevitable 
destruction as carefully balanced 
interpersonal relations disintegrate and 
basic conflicts between the two cultures are 
revealed. 

The compelling narrative is set against a 
background of Eskimo life on Baffin Island 
that is authentic in virtually every detail. 
You experience the isolated, self-sufficient 
world of the Eskimos and rapidly come to 
appreciate the precarious nature of their 
existence as they move from spring to fall 
to winter camps in a never-ending search 
for food. Hunting techniques, the facts of 
life and death, entertainment and religious 
ceremonialism, all are woven skillfully into 
the story. 

At intervals, the artist-author (who 
introduced the successful marketing of 
Eskimo stone-carvings to Canadian and 
American cities, to augment the income of 
needy Eskimo villages) provides accurate 
drawings of Eskimo artifacts as they appear 
in the story. Through his narrator, a 
sympathetic and sensitive young man, 
Houston not only evokes the Eskimo 
life-style, but creates the special atmosphere 
of a culture where man and nature exist in 
harmonious balance. 

James Houston has given us a dramatic 
novel — but his achievement is greater than 
that. He has created a vibrant microcosm 
within which his characters, Eskimos and 
whites, enact to the bitter end the tragic 
consequences of culture-contact whenever 
it has occurred. For this little band of 
Eskimos, as it was for all the native 
peoples of North America, the "white dawn" 
truly meant the beginning of the end for 
respected values and meaningful life-ways 
that were as cherished and deeply rooted 
as life itself. 

by Dr. James Van Stone, chairman, 
Department ot Anthropology, Field Museum. 

Reprinted with permission from the Chicago Daily 
News. 



Bulletin June 1971 



13 




Hugo J. Melvoin Elected Trustee 

Prominent Chicago attorney Hugo J. 
Melvoin, a partner in the law firm of Mayer, 
Brown & Piatt, has been elected a Trustee 
of Field Museum. Remick McDowell, 
Museum president, made the announcement 
following a recent meeting of the Board of 
Trustees. 

Mr. Melvoin received his L.L.B. from Harvard 
Law School in 1953, where he was winner 
of the James Barr Ames award. He is a 
1950 honors graduate in accounting from 
the University of Illinois. 

Active in national, state, and local bar 
associations, Mr. Melvoin is a member of 
the Executive Council of the Chicago Bar 




Hugo J. Melvoin 

Association Committee on Federal Taxation 
and vice chairman of Division A, dealing 
with estate and gift taxes and related 
problems. 

In addition, Mr. Melvoin lectures to bar 
associations and tax conferences, including 
the University of Chicago Tax Conference, 
the Illinois Institute for Continuing Legal 
Education, and De Paul University, and 
writes articles for law reviews. He is a 
member of Beta Gamma Sigma, commerce 
honorary fraternity. 



Field Museum Building Fifty Years Old 

""."I"' '""r i. 

k"'! mg, M., 2, m 
oloblished in 1893, 

«i>iy Field Museum 

?^^lo,-Uint| 




Floyd Catten^ 0, Illinois and Darrell Sutton of East Moline, Illinois accept congratulations from 

Museum Director fc. Leiand Webber (right) upon winning free memberships in Field Museum. 



Field Museum celebrated the fiftieth 
birthday of its present building recently with 
a public birthday party in Stanley Field Hall. 
A giant seven-tiered cake, a gift from Burny 
Bros., was enjoyed by Museum visitors and 
ten free memberships were awarded through 
a drawing. 

Mr. David Goldberg of Benton Harbor, 
Michigan, whose name was drawn first, 
became the 64,397,029th visitor to the 
present building, which opened its doors to 
the public on May 2, 1921. The nine other 
people to win free memberships to the 
Museum are: Mrs. James Barushok, 
Evanston, Illinois; Terri Castleberry, Joliet, 
Illinois; Floyd Catterton, Moline, Illinois; 
Antonio Cuevas, Chicago, Illinois; Kitty 
Petry, Delphi, Indiana; Reed Scudder, San 
Francisco, California; Darrell Leon Sutton, 
East Moline, Illinois; Lisa Simonson, 
Chicago, Illinois; and Duane H. Willhard, 
Springfield, Ohio. 

An article by John Millar, former deputy 
director and former chief curator of botany, 
recalling the past fifty years in the present 
Museum building, is featured in this issue 
of the Bulletin. 



NSF Grant for Teacher Training 
Program 

Field Museum has been awarded a grant of 
$47,200 from the National Science 
Foundation for support of a program entitled 
"Instructional Use of Community 
Resources." Its purpose is to help thirty 
teachers from Chicago public schools 
design curricula that make use of Museum 
exhibits as resources. 

School use of Field Museum facilities is 
increasing, and both new and experienced 
teachers feel a growing need to learn how 
they can interpret the Museum's exhibits to 
their classes, and how their field trips to 
the Museum can be made an integral part 
of their curricula. Field Museum is 
assuming leadership in training teachers to 
prepare pre- and post-field-trip instruction 
that uses visual aids, written materials, and 
actual objects or models of specimens 
from the Museum. 

The participating teachers will be selected 
jointly by Museum staff and Chicago public 
school administration personnel. Donald C. 
Edinger, chairman of the Museum's 
Department of Education, will direct the 
six-week workshop program, which begins 
June 28. 



14 



Bulletin June 1971 



Successful Bid for Museum Associate IMembershlp 




Mr. and Mrs. William J. Puda, successful bidders for tfie Museum associate membership auctioned recently on 
WTTW-TV. learn fiow plant material is prepared for tfie herbarium from Botany herbarium assistant Ronald 
Liesner (left). The occasion was Members' Nights, the once-a-year opportunity when all members of the 
Museum can go behind the scenes into the scientific research areas. The associate membership auctioned on 
television was the gift of Mr. Edward J. De Witt of Chicago. It extends membership benefits for life to 
Mr. and Mrs. Puda. 



professor o( zoology, Chicago State College. 
Publication Number 1123. $3.00 

Fieldiana is a continuitig series of scientific 
papers and monograpfis dealing with 
anthropology, botany, geology, and zoology 
published by Field Museum. Prices cited 
above do not reflect the 30 percent discount 
available to Members of the Museum. 
Publication Number should be used when 
ordering. 



New Membership Rates 

Effective July 1, new Museum membership 
rates will be $15 for annual membership 
and $150 for associate membership. This 
is the first increase in membership fees 
since the founding of the Museum in 1893. 

Persons who are presently members may 
renew annual membership for one year at 
the current rate of $10 or may obtain a 
permanent associate membership at the 
current rate of $100 up until December 31. 
The life membership rate will remain at 
$500 and contributor membership at $1 .000. 

Museum membership now totals 20,189. 



Children to Hunt Dinosaurs 

A Dinosaur Hunt is the Summer Journey for 
Boys and Girls this year. Perhaps no more 
fascinating prehistoric creatures ever lived 
on Earth than the dinosaurs. They roamed 
every continent but Antarctica between about 
200 million years ago and about 65 million 
years ago, and ranged in size from the 
largest land-dwelling animals to no bigger 
than a chicken. Not all are represented in 
the Museum, of course. 

The Journey is designed to let youngsters 
try to find those we do have, either as actual 
fossils or in the Charles Knight paintings in 
Hall 38. A question sheet gives the 
necessary clues by describing significant 
features of each animal. When the youngster 
then locates the fossil or painting, he can 
answer the questions by studying the 
specimen or painting. 

"Dinosaur Hunt" is Journey number 66 in a 
series which the Museum and the Raymond 
Foundation began in the spring of 1955. 
After a child successfully completes a series 
of four Journeys, he or she is presented with 
an award at a special program the Museum 
holds each spring. Write to the Museum's 
Education Department for more information 
about the Journey program and awards. 

This summer's Journey runs from June 1 to 
August 31. Journey question sheets may be 
picked up at both the north and south 
entrances and at the information booth near 



the north door. When completed, the 
question sheet should be deposited in 
marked receptacles near the north or south 
doors. There is no charge for taking any of 
the Museum Journeys. 



New Fieldiana Publications 

The following issues of Fieldiana have been 
recently published and are available for 
purchase from the Museum's Publications 
Division. 

Botany: Volume 34, No. 2. "Re-evaluation 
of Syagrus loetgrenii Glassman and S. 
racltidii Glassman," S. F. Glassman, 
professor of biological sciences. University 
of Illinois at Chicago Circle and research 
associate. Field Museum. Publication 
Number 1122. $1.00. 

Geology: Volume 23, No. 2. 
"Amphispongieae, A New Tribe of Paleozoic 
Dasycladaceous Algae," Matthew H. Nitecki, 
associate curator of fossil invertebrates. 
Field Museum. Publication Number 1124. 
$.50. 

Zoology: Volume 59, No. 1 . "Report on 
Primates Collected in Western Thailand, 
January — April, 1967," Jack Fooden, 
research associate. Field Museum and 



CNA Foundation Support for 
Afro-American Exhibit 




Visiting Afro-American Style from The Design Works 
of Bedford-Stuyvesant exhibit in the Museum's Hall 
9 are from left E. Leiand Webber, director of Field 
Museum; David Christensen, executive director of 
CNA Foundation and vice president of CNA Financial 
Corporation; Mark Bethel, president of The Design 
Works; Remick McDowell, president of Field 
Museum; and Anthony Jackson, a director of CNA 
Foundation and staff assistant to director of 
personnel, CNA/lnsurance. 

Silk-screened textiles produced by The Design 
Works, a new community-rooted company in 
Brooklyn, are exhibited in conjunction with African 
art from the Museum's famous Benin collection 
which inspired many of the textile designs. CNA 
Foundation provided financial assistance in support 
of the exhibit. 



Bulletin June 1971 



15 



LETTERS 



To the editor; 

In the 1 years we have belonged to the 
Field Museum I am sure that I've nodded 
off reading the Bulletin many times. 

Not so with the May Issue! It's great! 

The new format is excellent— contemporary 
while much more readable. The content 
and style of writing is suddenly so much 
more communicative. 

And the liberal use of really fine color 
photography makes it handsome enough to 
keep on our coffee table for many weeks to 
show guests. 

Someone — most likely you and your 
immediate staff — deserves to be 
congratulated and encouraged. 

You have done everythmg right. Add a 
center-fold "Animal of the Month" and 
Hugh Hefner will have some real 
competition in this town! 

Thank you. 

Eugene A. Peterson 
Chicago, Illinois 



To the editor: 

While on a fossil hunting expedition in our 
alley, I found this item which appears to 
me to be a tooth of some kind. 

I would appreciate it very much if you can 
more definitely identify it for me. Enclosed 
is a stamped envelope, for your reply, and 
if you don't mind please return the tooth. 

Thank you for anything that you may be' 
able to do for me in this matter. 

Matt Pesch. Age 9 
Plymouth, Indiana 



Dr. Eugene Richardson replies: 

I congratulate you on finding such a tiny 
fossil in your alley. I'm sure that most 
people wouldn't have noticed it at all. 

You thought that the fossil was some kind of 
tooth. When your letter was put before the 
members of the Geology Department this 
morning, at least two of the men remarked, 
"It seems to be a tooth of some kind." 

Actually, when we had a look at it with the 
microscope, it turned out to be a fossil coral. 
I am quite unable to say what kind of coral, 
since it is such a small fragment, but coral 
it is. I suspect that you will find other pieces 
of coral in the same area if you continue 
looking, and you will find that hardly any 
two of them will resemble each other. To 
begin with, there are many different kinds of 
fossil coral that can turn up in limestone 
gravels in Indiana — and then, to make it 
more difficult, the corals can be broken or 
dissolved in many different ways. 

As you have already discovered, there is a 
great deal that can be seen if you keep 
looking, and it is not necessary to go far 
places to find interesting specimens. 

Eugene S. Richardson, Jr. 
Curator of Fossil Invertebrates 
Field Museum 



Matt Pesch replies: 

Thank you for your reply. I enjoyed 
getting it. 

When I grow up I want to be a geologist. 

It wasn't hard not to see it because I was 
on my hands and knees. 

Then I went out in my alley after I got your 
letter and found these croinds or what ever 
you call them for you. Thank you. 

p.s. Tell the members of the Geology 

Department that I say thanks. 

Matt Pesch 



To the editor: 

Following the wave of Congressional 
support to save the wild horses and burros 
of Western America from harassment and 
slaughter, hearings were held in the House 
of Representatives and in the Senate on 
April 19 and 20, 1971, respectively. This 
was accomplished through the efforts and 
dedication of Senator Henry M. Jackson of 
Washington, chairman of the Senate Insular 
and Interior Affairs Committee, and 
Congressman Walter S. Baring of Nevada, 
chairman of the Public Lands Subcommittee 



of the House Interior and Insular Affairs 
Committee, who had introduced almost 
Identical bills. 

Representatives from a large number of 
interested and affected groups testified 
before both Committees. Though one would 
expect widely diverse opinions, nearly all 
those who gave testimony agreed that 
legislation must be enacted to protect, 
manage, and control the wild horses and 
burros in the public interest and as a 
symbol of the freedom that is our heritage. 

This does not mean, however, that victory 
will be easily won, for powerful and 
unidentified opposition surfaced through a 
few key legislators. That is why it is so 
urgent that you continue letting your views 
be knov/n to the lawmakers. 

If you have not already written to your two 
Senators asking their support of the Jackson 
Bill, S. 1116, and to your Congressman 
asking his support of the Baring Bill, H.R. 
5375, please do so immediately so that they 
will vote for passage when the bills come 
to the floors of both houses of Congress. 

All Senators may be addressed: c/o Senate 
Office Building, Washington, D.C. 20510 

All Congressmen may be addressed: c/o 
House Office Building, Washington, DC. 
20515 

Velma B. Johnston (Wild Horse Annie) 

President 

International Society for the Protection of 

Mustangs and Burros 

Editor's note: 

Patricia M. Williams' article "Canning a 
Legend" in the February issue of the Bulletin 
called attention to the fact that wild horses 
are rapidly being extirpated in North America. 
Many of our readers have since indicated 
that they wanted to be kept informed of 
progress toward legislation to help save them. 



Please address all letters to the editor to 

Bulletin 

Field Museum of Natural History 
Roosevelt Road and Lake Shore Drive 
Chicago, Illinois 60605 

The editors reserve the right to edit 
letters for length. 



16 



Bulletin June 1971 



CALENDAR 



HOURS 

9 a^. to 6 p.m. Saturday-Thursday 
9 a.m. to 9 p.m. Friday 

June 26 to September 6 

9 a.m. to 9 p.m. Wednesday, Friday, 

Saturday, and Sunday 

The Museum Library is open 9 a.m. to 
4:30 p.m. Monday through Friday 



CONTINUING 

Color in Nature, an exhibit examining the 
nature and variety of color in the physical 
and living w/orld around us, and how/ it 
functions in plants and animals. It focuses 
on the many roles of color, as in mimicry, 
camouflage, warning, sexual recognition 
and selection, energy channeling, and 
vitamin production, using specimens from 
the Museum's huge collections. Through 
November 28. Hall 25. 

The Afro-American Style, From the Design 
Works of Bedford-Stuyvesant, an exhibit of 
textiles blending classical African motifs and 
contemporary design. Artifacts from Field 
Museum's Benin collection, which inspired 
many of the designs, are also shown. 
Financial assistance for the exhibit was 
received from the CNA Foundation, Chicago. 
Through September 12. Hall 9. 

John James Audubon's elephant folio. The 
Birds of America, on display in the North 
Lounge. A different plate from the rare, 
first-edition volumes is featured each day. 

75th Anniversary Exhibit: A Sense of 
Wonder, A Sense of History, A Sense of 
Discovery, offers a many-dimensioned view 
of Field Museum's past and present, and 
some of its current research projects. 
Continues indefinitely. Hall 3. 



A Specimen of the "Glory of the Sea," 

one of the world's most famous and rarest 
sea shells (Conus gloriamaris), shown in 
the South Lounge. Acquisition of this perfect 
specimen was made possible through the 
generosity of Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Moulding. 
Through July 11. 

Free Natural History Film "Patterns for 
Survival" (A Study of Mimicry) presented at 
11 a.m. and 1 p.m. on Saturday, and 
11 a.m., 1 p.m., and 3 p.m. on Sunday in the 
second floor Meeting Room, through 
September. The half-hour film offers an 
overall view of protective coloration in 
insects and provides visitors with an insight 
into the "Color in Nature" exhibit. 




SUMIMER JOURNEY FOR BOYS AND GIRLS 



BEGINS JUNE 1 

"Dinosaur Hunt," Summer Journey for 
Children, acquaints youngsters with 
prehistoric animals in Museum exhibits and 
paintings through a free, self-guided tour. 
All boys and girls who can read and write 
may participate. Journey sheets are 
available at Museum entrances. Through 
August 31. 



COMING IN JULY 

Free Guided Tour of Field Museum exhibit 
areas leaves from the North information 
booth at 2 p.m. Monday through Friday, 
beginning July 6. A color motion picture, 
"Through These Doors," focusing on 
behind-the-scenes activities at the Museum, 
is shown at 3 p.m. in the Lecture Hall 
following the tour. Through September 3. 

Free Summer Children's Movies at 10 a.m. 
and 1 p.m. on Thursdays in the James 
Simpson Theatre. 

July 8 — "Zoos Around the World" 
a visit to some world-famous animals in 
world-famous zoos 

July 15 — "Adventures of an Otter" 

the delightful story of a mischievous otter 

July 22 — "Living Jungles" 

animals and plants of a tropical rain forest 

July 29 — "The Red Balloon" 

the adventures of a big red balloon and 

his pet, a little boy 

Deersldn Jacket with painted decoration 
depicting warriors on horseback, displayed 
in the South Lounge July 12 through 
September 5. A recent gift of Mrs. Richard 
D. Stevenson, the jacket was collected by 
her grandfather. Carter H. Harrison, III, in 
the early part of this century from the Sioux, 
probably of the Pine Ridge Agency. 



Volume 42, Number 7 July/ August 1971 

Field Museum of Natural History 




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^'^'*^^^"  'St,^ 



BULLETIN 



Volume 42, Number 7 
July/ August 1971 




Cover: The carbon 14 technique of dating 
archaeological material invented by Dr. Willard F. 
Libby is based upon the known disintegration rate 
of this radioactive element, which is called its 
"half-life." New evidence from growth rings in 
bristlecone pine trees, which can live for thousands 
of years, confirms the method and corrects the dates. 



2 Radiocarbon Dating — Twenty Years Later 

Willard F. Libby 

new refinements in the carbon 14 archaeological dating technique 

upset old ideas about our cosmic and cultural history 

6 IVIuseology — IMeeting the Relevance Problem 

Jonathan Taylor 

Field Museum develops a unique course that teaches high school 

students how to conceive, design, and build museum exhibits 

8 New Pride in Blacl( Africa 

Phil Clark 

African governments and scholars are actively involved in 

conservation of their indigenous cultures and wildlife 

1 1 Ecology and Economics 

Robert F. Inger 

an ecologist speculates about possible parallels between 

natural and human economies 

1 4 Book Reviews 

15 Field Briefs 

16 Letters 
Calendar 



Field Museum of Natural History 

Director, E. Leland Webber 

Editor Joyce Zibro; Associate Editor Elizabeth Munger; Staff Writer Madge Jacobs; Production Russ Becker; Photography John Bayalis. 
Fred Huysmans. 

The Bulletin is published monthly except August by Field Museum of Natural History, Roosevelt Road at Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, Illinois 
60605. Subscriptions: $9 a year; $3 a year for schools. Members of the Museum subscribe through Museum membership. Opinions expressed 
by authors are their ovjn and do not necessarily reflect the policy of Field Museum. Unsolicited manuscripts are w/elcome. Application to mail 
at second-class postage rates is pending at Chicago, Illinois. Postmaster: Please send form 3579 to Field Museum of Natural History, 
Roosevelt Road at Lal<e Shore Drive, Chicago, Illinois 60605. 



Bulletin July/August 1971 



The new method of radiocarbon dating, 
developed by Dr. Willard F. Libby at 
the Institute for Nuclear Studies of the 
University of Chicago, promises to 
revolutionize dating problems In 
archaeology. This method determines the 
age of things that lived during the past 
20,000 years by measuring the amount of 
carbon 14 they contain. 

Carbon 14 is an unstable (radioactive) 
heavy form of carbon with an atomic weight 
of 14. Normal, stable carbon has an atomic 
weight of 12. The half-life of carbon 14 
is about 5,500 years. This means that an 
ounce of carbon 14 is reduced by decay 
to half an ounce in 5,500 years, that half 
the remainder decays during the next 
5,500 years, leaving a quarter of an 
ounce, and so on. 

Carbon 14 is constantly being formed in 
the earth's upper atmosphere as the result 
of the bombardment of nitrogen-14 atoms 
by cosmic rays (neutrons). The carbon-14 
atoms thus created combine with oxygen 
to form carbon dioxide, which becomes 
mixed in the earth's atmosphere with the 
vastly greater proportion of carbon dioxide 
containing ordinary carbon atoms. The 
carbon 14 then enters all living things, 
which, through the life process, are in 
exchange with the atmosphere. This 
exchange is carried out through 
photosynthesis in plants. . . . 

When a plant or an animal dies, it ceases 
to be in exchange with the atmosphere 
and hence there is no further intake of 
carbon 14. But the carbon 14 contained at 
death goes on disintegrating at a constant 
rate, so that the amount of carbon 14 
remaining is proportional to the time 
elapsed since death. Given the carbon 14 
content of contemporary living matter and 
the disintegration rate of carbon 14 (the 
half-life), it is possible to calculate the age 
of an ancient organic sample from the 
amount of carbon 14 it contains. 



— from "New Radiocarbon IVIethod for 
Dating the Past" by Donald Collier, 
Chicago Natural History Museum Bulletin, 
January, 1951. 



One of the first publications on the 
radiocarbon dating method was by 
Donald Collier in this magazine tvi/enty 
years ago. It described in clear, lucid 
language the nev^^ly born physical 
technique for determining the lapse of 
time since death of living organisms. 
Donald Collier and I were firm 
collaborators during the gestation 
period and he helped deliver the baby. 
He served with Richard Foster Flint, the 
geologist of Yale, Fredericl< Johnson of 
the Phillips Academy, and Froelich 
Rainey of the University of Pennsylvania 
tvluseum to guide Dr. Arnold, Dr. 
Anderson, and myself in the actual 
research. 

Furthermore, he developed the 
technique of persuading museum 
keepers that they should give us 
materials to measure. This was no small 
achievement since our method is 
destructive — a sample from the material 
to be dated had to be burned — and at 
that early date we were requiring 
samples as large as one ounce for 
measurement. 

1 recall well when he gave us a sample 
from the deck plank of the solar boat at 
the Field Museum, the funeral ship of 
the Egyptian Pharaoh Sesostris III, 
which we dated at 3,750 years using 
the half-life we had then adopted of 
5,568 years. We now know that the 
half-life should be 3 percent longer as 
the result of further studies by others, 
so something like a century should be 
added to the time to make it perhaps 
3,875 years. I understand that the solar 
boat is being redated at the Applied 
Science Center for Archaeology at the 
University Museum in Philadelphia by 
Henry Michael, and I am told that a 
portion of the same plank used twenty 
years ago and again now is being 
reserved for future radiocarbon daters 
who may want to check the age of this 
priceless artifact. 

During the past twenty years several 
things have happened which have 
modified the radiocarbon dating method 



and brought out its latent capabilities 
more clearly. 

A basic assumption which we made in 
developing the method was that the 
cosmic rays that created carbon 14 had 
bombarded the earth's atmosphere at 
fixed intensity for the last 50,000 years 
or so, and that we would be justified in 
assuming that at the time of death the 
material being measured had the same 
proportion of radiocarbon content as 
does modern wood or any living 
modern material. It has been found, 
liowever, that this is not strictly true. 

The first hints of discrepancy were 
disagreements with the Egyptian 
historians. Dr. Paul Damon at the 
University of Arizona noted that even 
with a lengthening of the half-life of 
carbon 14 from 5,568 to 5,730 years, 
the dates for the First Dynasty were 
later than the historians would have 
them be from their historical records. 
Of course, their dates were quite 
uncertain since these records were 
among the oldest written history on 
earth. 

There was no proof that a correction 
was necessary until a new development 
occurred and Dr. Damon and Dr. Hans 
Suess of the University of California at 
San Diego and workers at the Douglas 
Tree Ring Laboratory in Arizona, 
Wesley Ferguson in particular, applied 
a new method of checking. This new 
method assumes that the wood in an 
ancient tree which constitutes a single 
ring is itself datable by radiocarbon. 
In other words, it assumes that the 
wood has not been altered since the 
rings were laid down during growth and 
that, with chemical purification to 
remove humic acids and other soluble 
materials, it can be burned and 
successfully dated by its radiocarbon 
content. Thus, by systematically 
measuring the radiocarbon content in 
ring after ring of trees of consecutively 
greater and greater age, both living and 
dead, this new way to check has 
already been carried back more than 



Bulletin July/August 1971 



A portion of the same plank from tills solar boat 
used twenty years ago and again now is being 
reserved for future radiocarbon daters. 



8,000 years. The bristlecone pine trees 
in California and Nevada, which can 
live for several thousand years, have 
provided the material to work with. 

We now know that there is a correction 
to be made in the direction that modern 
radiocarbon is less abundant by several 
percent than it was in these ancient 
times. Apparently at that time the 
cosmic ray bombardment rate was 
higher and caused the concentration of 
radiocarbon in all living matter 
throughout the world to be several 
percent higher than today. A 1 percent 
change corresponds to 83 years, so this 
amounts to several centuries. A 
correction curve has been deduced 
from this tree ring research. With it in 
hand and used to recalculate the 
Egyptian problem, we now find that the 
historical dates fit well with corrected 
radiocarbon dates. 

A second major result is that the 
corrected dating seems to require some 
fundamental changes in archaeological 
evaluation in prehistoric Europe and the 
[fiddle East. This result is just coming 
out in the open, as I learned from 
Professor Colin Renfrew, of the 
Department of Ancient History at the 
University of Sheffield in England. Two 
lines of thought in European prehistory 
have come into conflict recently. One 
adheres to the diffusion explanation 
for the spread of skills; the other 
postulates independent invention. The 
corrected dates at present point 
strongly in favor of the latter view. In 
other words, as I understand it, 
Professor Renfrew is maintaining that 
even though writing was invented in 
Mesopotamia and Egypt, such matters 
as the development of copper and 
bronze metallurgy may have developed 
independently and have coexisted in 
the prehistoric period in several places. 
Previously it had been thought that 
metallurgy came first from Egypt and 
the ancient Sumerian civilization of 




Mesopotamia to the Aegean and then 
north and west through the Balkans to 
the rest of Europe. Likewise, the custom 
of burying the dead in monumental 
tombs was thought to have traveled a 
similar route. But the whole matter is 
apparently up for reassessment in view 
of the corrected radiocarbon dates. 

A third point is the value of the 
corrections themselves for the 
understanding of geophysical 
phenomena. Something caused the 
cosmic rays to vary — and we now have 
a record of the extent to which they did 
vary — for the only way the concentration 
of radiocarbon could have changed 
was that its rate of production in the 
atmosphere must have changed. The 
volume of the ocean is known to have 
varied only to a very slight extent over 
the last several tens of thousands of 
years, and the ocean is the main 
diluting reservoir of the atmospheric 
radiocarbon. 

There are several possible explanations 
for cosmic ray variation. One is that 
Earth's magnetic field was somehow 
weakened, letting more cosmic rays hit 
the atmosphere. At the present time 
about half the cosmic rays which would 
otherwise hit Earth are deflected away 
by Earth's field because cosmic rays 
are charged particles. So if Earth's field 
became weaker, more would come in 
and produce radiocarbon and thus raise 
the modern concentration. 

Another possibility is that the sun was 
somehow less active in emitting solar 
wind. Studies in recent years with 
space satellites and space probes have 



shown that the sun is constantly 
emitting ionized matter which is racing 
outward, and cosmic rays are deflected 
to a considerable extent by this solar 
wind. 

Most cosmic rays originate outside the 
solar system in an as yet unknown 
source, so we have the exciting 
possibility of relating our climate to the 
deviations if there be a correlation 
between the total emission of energy 
from the sun and the strength of the 
solar wind, which seems entirely 
reasonable on physical grounds. Of 
course, such a correlation has yet to 
be established, but it seems 
reasonable, in fact almost certain, that 
such a correlation must exist. 
Some evidence has been obtained by 
studying the magnetism induced in 
ancient brick kilns which have been 
radiocarbon-dated. The magnetic 
minerals in the bricks were oriented in 
direction by the magnetic field then 
present when the bricks were last fired. 
So by studying the bricks, the direction 
of the ancient magnetic field can be 
obtained. Its intensity also can be 
obtained by the intensity of the 
magnetization, at least roughly. Now, 
the direction of the magnetic field has 
little bearing on the question since 
radiocarbon mixes over Earth's 
surface quite rapidly, in a matter of a 
few hundred years, but the intensity is 
indeed a serious question, as was 
pointed out many years ago by Elsasser 
and others. At the present time the 
source of Earth's magnetic field is 
unknown, though we have begun to 
suspect that Earth's field must be 
connected somehow with its rotation. 
This suspicion is based on the fact that 
Venus, which in other respects is very 
similar to Earth, has no magnetic 
field and does not rotate. Of course, we 
know that the rotation of Earth has not 
changed abruptly in the last several 
thousand years, so if there was a 



Bulletin July/August 1971 



A single specimen of brisllecone pine, PInus artstata, growing at an elevation of 10,800 feel 
In the White Mountains of east-central California. Photo from Laboratory of Tree-Ring 
Research, University ol Arizona. 




weakening of Earth's magnetic field, we 
are essentially in the dark as to the 
geophysical mechanism. 

But the important point is that 
radiocarbon dating has given an 
additional set of data on the history of 
the intensity of Earth's magnetic field, 
if it indeed can be shown that this is 
the cause of the variation in cosmic 
rays; or, alternatively, it has given 
additional data on the history of the 
sun. It is difficult at this point in time to 
know which the true explanation of the 
variation is, but we have every reason 
to hope that further research will settle 
this uncertainty. It may well be that 
both factors are involved, as Dr. Suess 
has suggested. 

Another benefit which has come out of 
the twenty years' experience with 
radiocarbon dating is the clear 
demonstration of the ability of the 
physical scientist and the archaeologist 
to collaborate wholeheartedly and 
successfully; of the ability of each to 
learn the other's trade and to 
understand the difficulties in the other's 
field. It is clear that interdisciplinary 
science and interdisciplinary 
collaboration throughout all fields of 
knowledge are essential for the 
problems associated with the protection 
of our environment, and I take pride 
that radiocarbon research was one of 
the first collaborations to demonstrate 
in modern limes that this melding 
together of specialists in widely 
different disciplines can be done 
successfully. 



Dr. Willard F. Libby is now at the University 
ol Calilornia, Los Angeles, Department ol 
Chemistry, and Institute ol Geophysics and 
Planetary Physics. He won the Nobel Prize 
lor Chemistry in 1960 "lor his method to use 
carbon-14 lor age determination in 
archaeology, geology, geophysics, and 
other branches ol science." 



Bulletin July/August 1971 



Museology- meeting 
the relevance problem 



Jonathan Taylor 



Field Museum was faced with the 
problem of how to determine what 
kinds of exhibits would be most 
exciting for high school students. 
Many institutions have attacked this 
"relevance" problem by inviting their 
audiences to communicate with one 
another via the modes of 
communication of those institutions. 
Newspapers and TV, for example, have 
been used by high school students to 
speak to other students. Could this 
approach be equally effective in 
exhibition? Field Museum is finding out 
through a recently initiated program 
entitled "Museology" which involves 
Chicago high school juniors and 
seniors in using the exhibition medium 
to communicate with other high school 
students. 

The program actually developed from 
a wedding of a number of related 
ideas. In October of 1969, 
Donald Edinger, chairman of the 
Department of Education, Elizabeth 
Goldring of the Raymond Foundation, 
and I started extensive discussions and 
evaluations around a series of 
questions: Could we involve high 
school students in the Museum? How 
do we produce exciting traveling 
exhibits for high schools? Can high 
school students act as consultants for 
these exhibits? Could high school 
students be trained to make a museum 
exhibit? Gradually we came to 
recognize that all these questions 
added up to a unique idea for 
museums. The outcome of our 
discussions, strugglings, and searchings 
was Museology. 

In January 1970, while we were still 
refining the plans, six seniors from 
Francis Parker School came to our 
Department of Exhibition to ask if they 
could make an exhibit. The interested 
members of the Education and 
Exhibition departments met with the six 
students in a long, smoky, productive 
session which concluded with the 
Museum agreeing to teach a pilot 
course in museology and the students 
agreeing to act as guinea pigs for the 
test run. 




Traveling exhibit produced by high school students 
in pilot Museology course given by Field Museum's 
Department of Education, in 1970. The exhibit was 
designed and constructed by Francis W. Parker 
School students Lawfnin Crawford, Hal Gerber, Bill 
Lawton, Peter Lewis, Steve Prins, and Mindy Schirm. 



If the original meeting was smoky, the 
course was a forest fire in comparison. 
As with many pilot projects, the time 
devoted to this one expanded far 
beyond our expectations, for both 
Exhibition and Education. The students 
spent four months trying to refine their 
own ideas to an exhibitable level, and 
finally compromised on a spin-off 
exhibit from the Museum's temporary 
exhibit "Illinois by the Sea." They 
rewrote a segment of this exhibit, then 
designed and constructed their final 
product. In June 1970, "Death by 
Crowding," a traveling exhibit designed 
for high schools, was finished and 
went on display in Field Museum. 

The exhibit then traveled to several 
Chicago high schools and to Malcolm 
X College during the 1970-71 school 
year, and was very well received by 
both students and faculty. High school 
students recognize it as a 



communication from their peers and 
respect it. An index of this respect is 
the excellent condition of the exhibit 
after a year's use — much better 
condition than one might reasonably 
expect. It is a walk-in exhibit with 
every part exposed, yet it has 
remained completely clean of any 
scratches or markings. 

After the 1970 pilot run of Museology, 
Donald Edinger and I began some 
extensive redesign of the course. 
Objectives were outlined and arranged 
in sequence, and appropriate 
instructional materials were written for 
each step. The final plan for a full 
school-year course was then 
considered by various educational 
agencies in Chicago. The Chicago 
Public Schools' Programs for the 
Gifted liked the plan and sponsored 
Museology for the school year 
1970-71. They selected students from 
a diversity of ethnic backgrounds and 
from different parts of the city and 
arranged credit in both Social 
Studies and Science for the course, 
which runs nine hours per week. They 
assigned Mrs. Sue Maxwell to assist 
me in teaching it, and this past year's 
experience has prepared her well for 
teaching any subsequent offerings of 
Museology. 

This second group of students started 
last October with a complete outline of 
the course they were to follow. First 
they observed and analyzed the 
Museum from a number of points of 
view: the types of audiences which 
come here; where most visitors go 
within the Museum; what disciplines 
are represented in Museum exhibits 
and the percentage of exhibition area 
devoted to each. Each student then 
studied, analyzed, and evaluated one 
exhibit by identifying its intended 
message, writing an audience test, and 
applying the test to an actual audience 
to determine the "success" of the 
exhibit. 

The next step was a month of work in 
a department of the Museum for each 



6 



Bulletin July/August 1971 



of the students, with two objectives. 
One was that each student experience 
directly what working within a specific 
scientific, exhibition, or educational 
discipline is like. The other was that 
each student record and assess the 
"functions of his particular department 
on a basis of observed activities" plus 
any other means he could devise to 
obtain this information. Three of the 
students were placed outside Field 
Museum, two in Shedd Aquarium and 
one in Adier Planetarium. Following 
this month of "apprenticeship," the 
students reconvened as a class to pool 
their information and construct from 
that a description of the Museum. This 
was an important assignment, for the 
exhibit which they were ultimately to 
produce must be consistent with the 
functions and disciplines of Field 
Museum. The students then wrote a 
schedule of the sequence of events 
necessary for production of an exhibit, 
including defining the limits of a 
traveling exhibit — size, weight, number 
of pieces, durability, etc. 

Only at this point were they ready to 
start the long process of painstakingly 
planning and constructing their exhibit. 
Following their own sequence, they 
identified their exhibit topic, researched 
the subject, wrote the script and labels, 
got photos, designed and finally built 
the exhibit. This last segment of the 
course, the most arduous and time- 
consuming, takes more than half the 
school year. For thirteen highly 
intelligent, individualistic young men 
and women from a diversity of 
backgrounds to come to a consensus 
on an exhibit topic, on design, and on 
the content of that exhibit might well 
be one of the most difficult tasks they 
have ever attempted. But their reward 
is an ultimate product — a traveling 
exhibit — that is a very satisfyingly 
tangible communication of their ideas to 
other people — in this instance, "the 
establishing of masculine and feminine 
roles in contemporary society." To get 
feedback from this communication, 
they must also write an evaluation 
instrument to test whether the exhibit is 




students in ttie 1970-71 Museology program working on ttieir extiibit. From lett to right: Walter Whitford. 
Lindblom High School; Kathy Gunnel!, Fenger; Mrs. Susan Maxwell, teacher from Chicago Board of 
Education; Alisa Swain, Lindblom; Leslie Biernat, Kelly; Jonathan Taylor, teacher from Field Museum. Students 
in the class not shown: Robert Brown, Hyde Park; Susan Fleishman, Waller; James Hisson, Kelly; Gail 
Isenberg, Kenwood; Joan Iwatake, Senn; Judith Nelson, Harlan; Nia Parfenoff, Waller; Felice Shiroma, Senn; 
Thalia St. Lewis, Tuley. 



successful in evoking the intended 
response from the audience. 

Our rewards are several. There is the 
satisfaction of working out an exciting 
cooperative program with Chicago 
Public Schools plus the satisfaction of 
sending contemporary and "relevant" 
exhibits to high schools in Chicago. 
In addition, our Museology course can 
now provide a continuing output of 
high school students who have had 
very real and in-depth experience with 
a museum, and who might seriously 
consider museum careers as a result. 

We would like to see this program 
expanded in at least two ways. It could 
be duplicated by other institutions 
interested in establishing meaningful 
contact with their high school 
communities. It could also be 
broadened within Field Museum to 
include other educational agencies. 



Jonathan Taylor Is coordinator of N. W. 
Harris Extension, Department of Education, 
Field Museum. 



Editor's note: The Museology course has 
been included in a compendium of museum 
outreach pi^ograms compiled by "Museums 
Collaborative," sponsored by the New York 
Council for the Arts, which will be published 
this summer. It can be obtained from: 
Assistant Director, Museums Collaborative, 
Department of Cultural Affairs, 830 Fifth 
Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10021. 



Bulletin July/August 1971 



New pride 

in 

black Africa 



Phil Clark 



Winds of change are crealing not only 
new political and economic forms in the 
free countries of black Africa — they are 
also stimulating refreshed creativeness 
in traditional arts and handicrafts and 
a new pride in the great mammals, 
colorful birds, and unique plants of this 
fascinating continent. This was the 
stand-out impression of my recent study 
trip in Nigeria, Cameroun, and Kenya. 

The impression was based on the 
number of new game reserves being 
established, on the growing official 
support for traditional arts, and on 
comments by leading black and white 
zoologists, a sultan, taxi drivers, men 
and women in markets, and student 
youths. Government and private tourism 
officers stressed the contribution to 
their developing economies from the 
increasing numbers of tourists, who are 
attracted largely by the exciting 
animal life and local handicrafts. 
"The independent East Africa 
governments," says zoologist John G. 
Williams," are more active in wildlife 
preservation than the colonial 
governments were." British born and 
trained, Dr. Williams is the author of 
the principal guides to birds, mammals, 
butterflies, and game reserves of East 
Africa. (He is a former curator of birds 
at the Kenya National Museum, Nairobi, 
and has been in Kenya since 1945.) 
"The strides forward in conservation 
made since independence [in Kenya, 
1963] are very, very remarkable. The 
three East African nations have set a 
good example to all of Africa." Williams 
added that Nigeria, Cameroun, and 
Ethiopia are now developing new game 
reserves. 

In part this interest in conservation 
was triggered by the success of East 
Africa in attracting tourist dollars. It 
is also a result of the burgeoning 
national pride all over free black Africa 
in the uniqueness of their wildlife and 
in the attention it receives from 
travelers and the world's press. Dr. 
Williams continued. "More important, 
though, the African is fundamentally 
interested in nature," he said. "To build 



on this innate interest, there is an 
urgent need for introductory books on 
natural history subjects. That is one of 
the main reasons I've concentrated on 
production of field guides." He hopes to 
publish Swahili editions of his books. 

I talked also with James Gathuka 
Gachuhi, a leading black zoologist, of 
Kikuyu background, who has worked 
and studied under Williams. For 
Gathuka, wildlife is more than a natural 
resource of economic value; it is a 
spiritual resource. He is happy over 
increasing official support for nature 
preserves, but worried by threats to 
them. These, I learned, reading the 
Nairobi press, come from poachers 
seeking pelts for the European and 
American markets, from hard-pressed 
Masai herdsmen whose cattle also 
need the reserve grasses for food, and 
from poor squatters who have moved 
in on some reserve areas. 

The study of birds and mammals, in fact 
of all wildlife, is a way of life for 
Gathuka. His interest in nature began in 
childhood, but deeper knowledge came 
with work in Uganda with a German 
zoologist and collector of animals for 
zoos. Later, because of his wife's 
nostalgia for Kenya — "she said she 
would go back to her parents" — Gathuka 
returned to Kenya. There he met and 
worked under Williams, guiding safaris 
for persons interested in wildlife 
photography. He has a sharp eye for 
birds and mammals, even when their 
camouflage makes them invisible 
to the untrained. Knowing their habits, 
he also knows where and when to find 
them for revealing, candid photos. 
With his help, I was able to photograph 
a nauseated lioness being sick, a pair 
of lions mating, a gaggle of reticulated 
giraffes huddled under an acacia tree 
during heavy rain, and a timid dik-dik 
peering nervously from thornbushes a 
few feet away. Progress is real — it 
seems to me — when the pith-helmeted 
"white hunter" is replaced by a gentle 
zoologist leading a photo safari. 
Gathuka, looking ahead, hopes his 
son, Gachuhi, will be a zoologist too. 




Bulletin July/ August 1971 



Photos by the author. 




Dr. Louis S. B. Leakey, the noted 
paleontologist, with whom I talked in 
Nairobi, pointed out that East Africa's 
great game reserves are vital to newly 
developing knowledge about animal 
behavior. This study based on intimate 
observation of reserve animals is 
beginning to reveal whole dimensions of 
animal intelligence that had not been 
suspected. 

In West Africa, my strongest impression 
is the human — so spontaneous, 
outgoing, smiling, and colorful. This 
excitement carries through to 
archaeology, anthropology, and the 
related arts, crafts, and customs. The 
artist Picasso credits an exhibit of West 
African art in Europe with triggering the 
whole abstract art movement, so vital 
were the African sculptures. They are 
still vital and are helping black Africans 
to rediscover themselves even as they 
helped white Europeans to express 
themselves. 

I talked about arts and crafts with the 
Sultan of Bamoun, El Hadj Seidou 
Njimoluh Njoya, who visited Field 
Museum in 1964. Our talks were in the 
Sultan's capital city of Foumban, set 
in the sere, red clay hills of middle 
Cameroun. The Sultan expressed to me 
his conviction that growth of traditional 
handicrafts is a key to both cultural 
and economic development in his 
Sultanate. Bamoun has for centuries 
been a source of unique folk art, which 
stems from the vigorously individual 
hybrid black Cameroun and Arab 
culture. With the Sultan's 
encouragement, a whole street of 
artisan establishments has sprung up 
— foundries for the lively brass figures, 
looms for colorful textiles, kilns for 
potters, and shops for woodcarvers and 
furniture makers and those who deal 
in hides and antiques. Besides 
providing jobs, pride. in local arts, and 
cash income, the artisan street is 
intended to draw tourists to this still 
little known section of Cameroun. 
So intense is the Sultan's interest in 
the artisan project that young and 
handsome Prince Zounedou 



occasionally takes a visitor to Bamoun 
personally from shop to shop. He 
showed me some of the expressive 
brasses, with pride almost approaching 
that of the sculptors themselves. These 
Muslim brassworkers make figures of 
sprightly musicians, pendant heads of 
past sultans, and crucified Christs, 
which, besides having the Semitic 
features appropriate for Jesus of 
Nazareth, are vividly the Man of 
Sorrows. 

Traditional dance is another of the arts 
flourishing in Bamoun. During 
celebrations at the Feast of Ramadan, 
which marks the end of the long Muslim 
period of fasting, I saw at least eight 
different folk dance groups — sword 
dancers clashing flashing blades; 
warriors with feathered headdresses 
and old muskets which were 
dangerously discharged at a dance 
climax; spearmen in a dancing charge. 

Prince Zounedou impressed me as part 
of the new Africa — as did his royal 
father also. Both were vitally concerned 
with progress for their land — ruled by 
the Sultan's line since 1431 — but at the 
same time are equally intent that 
change not uproot the essential 
qualities that make Bamoun Bamoun. 

In Lagos, Nigeria, that capital of the 
arts for black Africa, handsome 
traditional African dress is dominant — 
colorfulflowing robes and many exotic 
caps and hats. This too is an indication 
of the revitalized national spirit surging 
in the arts. No matter what the class — 
worker, farmer, businessman, 
government official, or student — the 
long gown, or at least the colorful shirt, 
is worn. 

At Ibadan and Ife, heartland of the 
Yoruba, I found carving in the style of 
the twin figures still being done and 
some antique figures available as well. 
The museum at the University in Ibadan, 
one of Nigeria's most modern, 
emphasized the Yoruba music, arts, and 
crafts in its curriculum. And, of course, 
at Ife Museum it was possible to join 
crowds of Africans to see the 



Bulletin July/August 1971 



magnificent and mysterious brass and 
terra cotta heads, the oldest probably 
sculptured in the eighth century. These 
works are as sophisticated as anything 
created in the ancient worlds of Europe 
and the Middle East, yet they are an 
enigma because they are an isolated 
African flowering of naturalistic 
sculpture rather than the more abstract 
style typical of other black African 
cultures. They include lifelike replicas 
of the heads of Onis (Ife kings) and 
members of their courts. The latest 
were believed sculptured in the 
thirteenth century. 

In the market of Ibadan I delighted in 
that charming cultural charcteristic so 
conspicuous in West Africa — the "body 
talk" that adds to communication a 
dimension at least as important as the 
verbal; the conversations are 
punctuated by the hand-slapping, 
shoulder-clasping, and hand-holding 
gestures that maintain a sense of 
physical communication. This is as true 
in the lobbies of the prestigious hotels 
as in the markets — another indication 
of a people again at home in their own 
land. It is part of the warm humanness 
that continues among American blacks 
— most of whose ancestors came from 
this part of West Africa. 

There is a reverse cross-fertilization 
evident in Nigerian and other West 
African popular music: it is clearly 
influenced by musical styles originating 
with American blacks, yet has its own 
uniquely African flavor. While I was in 
Nigeria, concerts given by the American 
black musician James Brown were 
everywhere attracting immense crowds. 

Benin, seat of a culture which achieved 
a high level between the fourteenth to 
seventeenth centuries, so impressed a 
Dutch visitor in 1602 that he compared 
it to Amsterdam: rare praise from a 
Netherlander of any day. Its art, 
particularly the carved ivories and cast 
bronzes depicting the Obas and their 
warriors, continue to astound art 
specialists today. 

Another indication of the awakening 




pride In indigenous culture is the new 
museum just being completed in Benin 
City; it is a round tower with a snail 
spiral exhibit area within, similar to the 
Guggenheim Museum in New York City. 

In the form of wood carving, work in the 
same and in modern naturalistic styles 
is coming from the presentday shops in 
Benin. Here agai.i tourism and local 
pride, each stimulated by the other, 
encourage more development, more 
renewal of old cultural styles, and their 
evolution into changed but related 
forms. 

Nigeria also has an outstanding literary 
culture, contributed to by numerous 
writers of various tribal backgrounds. 
I was especially impressed by the 
novels of Chinua Achebe, an Ibo. His 
Arrow of God (Anchor, 1969), which 
won the New Statesman novel award in 
1965, I discovered at a bookshop in 
Lagos. It is not only some of the finest 
English prose in contemporary writing, 
it provides a gifted and lively 
ethnographic presentation of the Ibos. 
Like the excellent book The River 
Between (African Writers Series, 
Heinemann, 1965) by James Ngugi (of 
Kikuyu background), Achebe's novel 
tells the story of the shock waves which 



shook traditional African life with the 
coming of the white colonialists. It is 
through such understanding and 
re-agonizing through what happened to 
their societies that Africans are 
rediscovering themselves. Novels of 
this kind help Africans to evaluate the 
foreign patterns that were imposed on 
them and to revivify and continue the 
evolution of their traditional ways of life. 

As a botanist-horticulturist, I was also 
naturally much interested in Africa's 
flora. It was thrilling to see many of the 
wild ancestors of plants which originate 
in Africa. Clerodendron splendens, that 
flame-flowered vine popular in tropical 
gardens, grows wild on hillsides in 
Cameroun. In the lush, heavily forested 
areas near Benin in Nigeria and in 
western Cameroun, the stag-horned 
fern (Platycerium sp.) flourishes as an 
epiphyte on the tree trunks. Several 
species of Erythrina make scarlet 
patches in the jungle that can be seen 
from the air. Africa's most beautiful 
species of this coral tree group, 
£. abysinica, with flame-red balls of 
bloom, is particularly common at 
Samburu in Kenya. 

It is clear that the African governments 
are concerned about protecting plants 
as well as animals. The damage to trees 
by elephants is sad, though — 
particularly to the impressive, fat-boled 
baobob (Adansonia digitata). The great 
pachyderms delight in tearing off the 
outer bark in order to eat the inner 
layer. And sometimes, apparently just 
for fun, they push over these 
shallow-rooted trees. 



Phil Clark formerly directed Field Museum's 
Natural History Tours. He is now heading 
his own lour business at 520 North 
Michigan Avenue, Chicago, Illinois 60611. 



10 



Bulletin July/August 1971 



ecology & economics 



robert f. inger 



In olden times — about five years ago — 
before ecology became popular, it 
was defined by biologists as tfie study 
of thie relations between living things 
and their environment. That typically 
stuffy academic definition was probably 
designed to keep the bums out of the 
park. In my opinion, it is more 
interesting to refer to ecology as the 
study of the natural economy of living 
things. I prefer that definition because 
the word "economy" often stimulates 
an idle ecologist into all sorts of wild 
speculation — he can become for a 
while an armchair economist. You will 
soon see where that can lead. 




The first part of this article concerns 
some current ideas in ecology. In the 
second part a strictly amateur economist 
takes over and speculates about 
parallels between these ecological ideas 
and human economics. My musings 
will be unfettered by the usual restraints 
imposed by knowledge. But it's 
relatively harmless speculation. 

Many ecologists devote their research 
time to investigating the structure of 
natural communities and trying to 
understand the factors that account for 
differences between communities. A 
natural community is simply an 
assemblage of plant and animal 
species that occur together — the group 
of species that live, for example, in a 
typical farm woodlot in the Midwest, 
or in a patch of prairie, or in a lake, or 
along a rocky coast. These species 
interact in set ways repeated in all 
communities. 



For example, there is a network of 
relations in every community called a 
food web. Green plants produce food, 
animals feed on the plants, other 
animals feed on those animals, and 
scavengers clean up the dead and 
dying. The food web is part of a 
system of cycles within a community. 
Plants convert carbon dioxide into food 
and give off oxygen as waste, which 
animals breathe, giving off carbon 
dioxide as waste, which the plants use, 
completing the cycle. Chemical 
nutrients (nitrogen, sulfur, etc.) are also 
essential for proper growth of plants 
and animals. All these materials are 
similarly cycled, with bacteria playing 
a key role in the process. 

The cycles are not perfect. That is (all 
materials circulating in a given 
community do not remain within the 
community. There is some leakage, 
some movement of material from one 
community to another, across both 
space and time. 

One community differs from another 
in various ways. The most profound 
difference, in the sense that it affects 
so many other features, is in internal 
diversity. Diversity, though it can have 
many meanings, usually refers to the 
number and relative abundance of 
species. A cornfield, though it is 
man-made, qualifies as a 
plant-and-animal community. It is a 
very simple one with very few species 
of plants, one of which is abundant 
and others not at all (if the farmer is 
tending to business). Its few species 
of animals show the same pattern of 
relative abundance — one or two kinds 
of insects are very numerous (pests, 
in fact) and others are scarce. An old, 
abandoned pasture nearby will have 
more species of both plants and 
animals and no single one will be 
dominant. A hardwood forest in the 
same area will have still more species 
of plants and animals and a still more 
even distribution of numbers. 



Communities that differ in diversity also 
differ systematically in other ways. The 
species that live in communities of low 
diversify have higher reproductive rates 
and shorter life cycles than do the 
species that live in communities of 
high diversity. The old pasture has 
more annual plants than does the 
more diverse forest, and the perennial 
non-woody plants and shrubs of the 
pasture do not live as long as the 
trees in the adjacent forest. The same 
patterns apply to the animals in these 
communities. 




In a simple community there is more 
basic production of food by plants per 
unit of living material than in a 
complex, diverse community. Picture 
for a moment the old pasture at the 
end of winter — there are a few shrubs 
and some seedling trees and below 
ground relatively shallow small roots; 
the dead leaves and stems of the 
non-woody plants do not amount to 
much. Then picture the same field in 
September near the end of the growing 
season — virtually all the mass of 
vegetation one sees was produced that 
season. The ratio of that mass to the 
amount of living vegetation present in 
March is very large. Now, let's go 
through the same procedure with the 
mixed forest. By September an 
enormous mass of leaves has been 
produced. But the ratio of that mass to 
the great weight of living vegetation — 
trunks, branches, and large roots 
— present at the start of the season is 
much smaller than the same ratio in 
the less diverse old pasture. 

If we think of the living material 
present in March as biological capital. 



Bulletin July/ August 1971 



11 



production relative to capital is low in 
the more diverse community and high 
in the less diverse one. Very little 
of each season's production becomes 
converted into capital in the less 
diverse community. 




The final ecological quality associated 
with diversity that I want to discuss is 
stability. Communities of low diversity 
are less stable than those of high 
diversity. Although no natural 
population is constant, those in 
complex, highly diverse communities 
experience relatively minor variations 
from year to year. Populations in 
simple communities, on the other hand, 
tend to oscillate radically over short 
periods of time, and thus be exposed 
to local extinction. This fundamental 
difference is related to another feature 
of natural communities, namely, the 
existence of feedback systems. 

Imagine a community with one species 
of plant, one species of herbivore, and 
one species of predator. These three 
links form a feedback loop. As long 
as the numbers of herbivores and 
predators remain within certain bounds, 
the community as a system will work. 
That is, enough plants will be eaten to 
allow room for growth and 
reproduction, but not too many. 
Enough herbivores will be killed to 
prevent them from eating up their 
food, but not too many. Let one 
population — say the herbivore (a 
jackrabbit — get out of balance by a 
sudden increase, and the feedback loop 
begins to have an effect. The predator 
— a coyote (unless some federal agency 
in its infinite wisdom has poisoned 
them all) — begins to kill more and its 
population begins to increase. In a 



short while the herbivore population 
decreases, which then causes a drop 
in the population of predators. If these 
checks and balances did not operate, 
the herbivore population would soon 
increase to the point at which it would 
literally eat itself out of house and 
home and the entire population would 
starve to death. The predator 
population would then become extinct. 

Each successive increase or decrease 
is not perfectly geared to the 
preceding change. Consequently, a 
community that has only a single 
feedback loop is subject to an 
occasional over-response by one 
population that may cause disruption 
of the entire system. But if a number 
of feedback loops exist, they may 
intersect to buffer over-response by a 
single link in one loop. If, for example, 
jackrabbits become scarce, coyotes 
will start concentrating on mice, giving 
the rabbit population a chance to 
recover. 

Each species has its own characteristic 
way of life, using certain resources in 
a particular fashion and providing 
resources in turn for certain other 
species. Therefore, the more species 
existing in a community (that is, the 
more diverse it is), the more 
complicated the relationships among 
species. This is another way of saying 
that increasing diversity increases the 
number and connections among the 
feedback loops. And, as we have just 
seen, that in turn increases the stability 
of a community. This is why highly 
diverse communities are more stable 
than less complex ones. 





Now for the armchair, amateur 
economics. I hope that everyone who 
reads beyond this point will keep 
several things in mind. First, these 
ideas are tentative. I offer them, not 
because I think they are "true," but 
because they are interesting. Maybe a 
genuine economist can demolish 
them. But supposing . . .? Secondly, 
even if my generalizations are 
reasonably close to correct, there are 
certain to be exceptional cases. Not 
even genuine economists can claim 
absolute universality for their concepts. 
Finally, I intend no moral judgments in 
my statements. Of course, like any 
other person I have feelings about the 
ways in which people interact. But 
those are personal matters, and I will 
try to prevent them from obtruding 
here. 

Human communities, whether we mean 
neighborhoods or entire cities, differ 
among themselves in diversity just as 
do natural communities. One city might 
be dominated by a single type of 
industry, say aerospace, as in the case 
of Seattle. Another might have a 
number of kinds of industry with no 
one of them dominant in the sense of 
being the major base of the 
community's economic life. 

Or suppose we compare smaller 
human communities. Let's take two 
samples from a large city, each typical 
of certain kinds of neighborhoods. And 
instead of talking about species of 
plants and animals, we will use 
occupations to give us a measure of 



12 



Bulletin July/ August 1971 



diversity. Combining neighborhoods, 
we find production line wori<ers, 
clerical workers, shopkeepers, 
managers, lawyers, physicians, real 
estate brokers, teachers, etc. Suppose 
that in the first neighborhood almost 
every employed person falls into one 
occupation category — the production 
line worker — whereas in the second 
neighborhood there is a more even 
distribution of occupations. The first 
community has low diversity and the 
second high diversity. Since 
neighborhoods differing in these ways 
differ in terms of average individual 
income, we can (and usually do) refer 
to them as poor and rich, respectively. 

We said earlier that in natural 

communities of low diversity 
reproductive rates were higher and life 
cycles shorter than in communities of 
high diversity. And where in human 
communities do we find high 
reproductive rates and reduced life 
expectancy? In the poor ones, the 
communities with low diversity. 
Regardless of our feelings about these 
things, women in poor neighborhoods 
bear children at an earlier age and 
tend to have more children than do 
women in rich communities. Infant 
mortality rates and morbidity rates from 
a variety of diseases are higher in 
poor, low-diversity communities, 
leading to reduced life expectancy — 
shorter life cycles. 




In natural plant and animal 
communities we found a high ratio of 
production to capital associated with 
low diversity. The same is true of 
human communities of low diversity: 
most of the income (the equivalent of 



production) is expended and converted 
into things that are consumed — food, 
clothing, rent — and very little is 
accumulated as capital — savings in 
one form or another. On the other 
hand, in more diverse human 
communities, the richer ones, a higher 
proportion of income is converted into 
capital — savings, stocks, equity in 
property, etc. 

Another aspect of the same 
relationship is to be seen in the 
contrast between small businesses 
operating in the two kinds of 
communities. It is my impression from 
personal observation and reading that 
the ratio of profit to capital investment 
is higher for most businesses operating 
within poor neighborhoods than is true 
for businesses in richer communities. 
A shop or housing unit in the more 
diverse, richer neighborhood usually 
provides more services, more 
maintenance, and fancier interiors 
(which reduce the margin of profit) than 
its counterpart in a poor neighborhood. 

More diverse natural communities have 
greater stability than less diverse ones. 
Similarly, human communities of high 
diversity have greater stability. An 
economic disturbance that hits 
primarily one industry, say aerospace, 
will have a far more serious effect on a 
single-industry community than on one 
having a diverse economy. The people 
of Seattle are all too aware of this 
phenomenon. A country that exports 
essentially one commodity suffers more 
frequent and more radical economic 
ups and downs than a country that 
exports a variety of commodities and 
products. It is true that a general 
recession affects an entire economic 
network, but the neighborhood or city 
or country of low diversity is usually 
affected first and usually experiences 
more unemployment, more disruption, 
than the more diverse community. 

We do not yet understand all the 
underlying causes of the economic 
relationships within and among natural 
communities. This problem area is 
increasingly attracting the active 



attention of ecologists. The concern of 
these men and women is with a set of 
problems in basic science. Their 
motivation is a desire to understand 
more about the rules that govern 
nature's economics. If the parallels 
between natural and human 
communities stand after close 
examination, then it will be important 
for economists (in the usual sense) 
and ecologists to work together in an 
attempt to understand the basis of the 
parallels. 




Dr. Robert F. Inger is chairman ot Scientific 
Programs, Field Museum. 



Bulletin July/August 1971 



13 




The Lunar Rocks 

By Brian Mason and William G. Melson. 
New York: Wlley-lnterscience, 1970. 179 
pp. $8.95. 

Whether scientifically inclined or not, one is 
bound to be at least curious about the 
results of the costly current Apollo lunar 
program. Most taxpayers fail to see that the 
main purpose of the program is simply to 
demonstrate the successful engineering 
systems that permit us to send men to the 
moon and bring them back alive. This was 
the original impetus and motive of the 
program — to show that it could be done 
technically. Thus it is similar in its purpose 
to the climbing of Mt. Everest, which was 
done "because it was there." 

It seemed desirable to have the men do 
something on the lunar surface once they 
got there, and the sampling of lunar rocks 
was the most obvious something. Originally 
the geological profession was overjoyed 
with the whole idea. It could not have been 
foreseen that years later, when criticism of 
the cost of the program would arise, the 
geological results, although secondary in the 
project, would have to bear the brunt of the 
scrutiny of critics, who would ask questions 
like "What are the results worth?" On earth, 
geologists have always been able to point 
to practical achievement in petroleum and 
mineral production. With lunar geology, any 
such practical results must obviously be 
lacking. 

Be that as it may, Drs. Mason and Melson 
(both of the U.S. National Museum) have 
succeeded very well in distilling the 
thousands of pages of technical data that 
have been published in several journals on 
the Apollo 11 and 12 specimens. Their 
book hits the middle ground between a 
popularized account of the science writer 
and a highly technical report of the specialist. 

Descriptions of all individual minerals 
determined in all lunar samples and of the 
several rock types, solid rocks, 



microbreccias, and "soils" are treated in 
detail in separate chapters. Clear 
comparisons and contrasts are made 
between the somewhat different rocks of the 
two different collection sites, 11 and 12. 
The verbal descriptions are augmented by 
many well-chosen figures, both graphs and 
photos. The latter are printed with a very 
fine screen which makes for excellent 
definition and detail. Chemical abundances 
and known isotopic abundances are laid 
out by increasing atomic number over the 
whole stable portion of the periodic table. 
Finally, the several hypotheses regarding the 
interior makeup of the moon and how it 
formed as a sister planet to Earth are 
reviewed and evaluated in the light of the 
evidence from the rocks. 

The book has only a few shortcomings. The 
puzzling large discrepancies in ages 
between the solid rocks and the fine-grained 
"soils" are treated only briefly; there is no 
discussion of the several theories which 
attempt to resolve this serious difficulty. The 
original worry over organic forms and 
compounds in lunar materials necessitated 
the elaborate and much-publicized isolation 
period for both astronauts and samples, but 
the results of organic studies, though 
admittedly all negative, are treated only 
cursorily within the discussion of the 
element carbon. The geophysical 
experiments and puzzling seismic properties 
of the moon are not discussed at all, nor 
are the interesting thermoluminescent and 
related optical features. 

The book is an excellent distillation of the 
voluminous geological-geochemical data 
which make up the bulk of the Apollo 
reports thus far. It serves as a concise 
reference for persons in the geological 
profession, and for those in physics, 
chemistry, and astronomy who are willing to 
wrestle with a few new terms. The very 
astute and deeply involved amateur rock 
and mineral collector will also be able to 
glean some useful material here. The 
general reader, unfortunately, will find it 
tough sledding, and might do better to go to 
other books such as Moon Rocks by Henry 
S. F. Cooper, Jr. (Dial Press, 1970, 144 
pages, $4.50). 

by Dr. Edward J. Olsen, curator ot 
mineralogy in the Department of Geology, 
Field Museum. 

Baboon Ecology — African Field Research 

By Stuart A. Altmann and Jeanne Altmann. 
Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1970 
(publ. date, Feb. 23, 1971). 220 pp. $12. 

I would recommend this book to certain 
kinds of readers as an example of how 
good scientists think. It is unlike most 
papers in technical journals today, in which 



publication costs force editors and authors 
to eschew tentative models, historical 
reviews, and educated guesses. In the 
Altmanns' book, the basic materials are 
succinctly offered, but are also subjected to 
statistical analyses, model fitting, and 
comparisons with general behavioral and 
ecological principles. Questions for the 
future are noted throughout the book, and 
a chapter at the end speculates on a few 
special topics. The book could be a 
considerable education to many a student 
confident that all is known or predictable, 
and to young researchers unsure of where 
to start in a field. 

I would not recommend this slim volume to 
the general reader as a comprehensive 
treatise on baboon ecology, for it is not, 
despite the title. It is, rather, a detailed 
technical account of the yellow baboons of 
the Amboseli Reserve in Kenya and their 
relations to the environment. Topics covered 
include population dynamics, activity cycles, 
group movements, wafer and food, 
predators, and other associated animals. 
A goodly amount of material from the 
literature on other baboons is sprinkled 
through the text. The book is essentially a 
by-product of the main thrust of the authors' 
field studies, the social behavior of the 
baboons, an account of which the authors 
promise will be forthcoming. 

Primatologists are apt to finish the book 
with a highly stimulated appetite for more 
data and answers. Presumably the authors 
will provide more material as a result of 
work following their one-year period 
(1963-64) at Amboseli that is the core of 
this study. Since this initial research, the 
area and the animals have come under a 
set of stresses that should be most 
interesting for a long-term dynamic view of 
the ecology. The stresses include the 
decimating effects of virus diseases on the 
baboons and predators, a salt-brush 
succession in Amboseli with a rising water 
table, and mounting human environmental 
pressures, increasingly meaning those from 
tourism. 

The present-day situation potentially could 
tell us much about limits of the yellow 
baboon's ecological niche. Presumably the 
animals do have considerable evolutionary 
resilience, but a combination of adversities 
may outstrip their capacity for adjustment. 
For such a fuller understanding we need 
further studies at Amboseli comparable to 
this sophisticated baseline and to 
complementary work elsewhere (like the 
investigations of the Transvaal baboons in 
South Africa by Stolz and Saayman). 

by Dr. George Rabb, associate director, 
research and education, Brookfield Zoo, 
Brookfield, Illinois, and research 
associate at Field Museum. 



14 



Bulletin July /August 1971 




Who's Where This Summer 

Dr. William Burger, associate curator of 
vascular plants, leaves for Costa Rica in 
early July to continue collecting the flora of 
that country. The expedition is financed by 
a National Science Foundation grant. 

Dr. John Clark, associate curator of 
sedimentary petrology, is studying 
biostratigraphic structures and the 
environment of deposition in South Dakota, 
Utah, Wyoming, and Colorado. Orville 
Gilpin, chief preparator, is accompanying 
Dr. Clark. 

Dr. John Kethley, assistant curator of 
insects, will be conducting field trips in 
Illinois and the central Midwest area to 
collect mites found on millipedes. He will 
also give some lectures at Ohio State 
University while taking a course there in 
parasitic mites. 

Dr. Paul Martin, curator emeritus of 
anthropology, is in Vernon, Arizona 
continuing his "New Perspectives in 
Archaeology" summer program for high 
ability college sophomores and juniors, 
conducted under a National Science 
Foundation grant. 

Dr. Matthew H. Nitecki, associate curator of 

fossil invertebrates, will be doing 
biostratigraphic and paleoecologic collecting 
of Receptaculitids in the Midwest and 
Southwest in August and September. 

Dr. Alan Solem, curator of 
invertebrates, will attend the Fourth 
European Malacological Congress in 
Geneva, Switzerland September 5-12. 

Dr. William Turnbull, associate curator of 
fossil mammals, will continue his collecting 
of fossil vertebrates of the mid-late Eocene 
in the Washakie Basin of Wyoming and 
Colorado. 

Dr. Bertram G. Woodland, curator of igneous 
and metamorphic petrology, will collect 



data pertinent to the unraveling of the 
deformational history of a structurally 
complex metamorphic area in central 
Vermont. 

Dr. Rainer Zangerl, chairman of the 
Department of Geology, and Dr. Eugene 
Richardson, curator of fossil invertebrates, 
will present a paper on paleoecology at the 
Seventh International Congress of 
Carboniferous Stratigraphy and Geology at 
Krefeld, Germany August 23 to Sept. 3. 

Enjoy, Enjoy 

Summer is an especially good time to see 
what's happening at Field Museum — special 
exhibits, films, guided tours. Please take 
note of our special long summer hours for 
both the Museum and cafeteria, listed in 
Calendar. Be sure to bring your membership 
card. Remember that admission is free at 
all times to Museum members, their families, 
and guests. 

This is a combined July/August issue of 
the Bulletin. The next issue will be 
published in September. 



Workshop for the Blind 



Atlantic Richfield Gift 




Fifty individuals Irom the Illinois Visually 
Handicapped Institute recently visited the 
Museum to explore some ol the artilacts in 
the Department ol Education's teaching 
collection. They discovered such objects as 
lions' teeth, talking drums, .and shells. 
Above, a young lady interacts v/ith a 
contemporary African talking drum Irom 
Ghana. "Thank you," said one ol the 
visitors, "I have never seen these things 
before." 




Edward J. Gazelle, Manager ol Public 
Relations, Midcontinent Area, Atlantic 
Richfield Company, shov/n with Museum 
Director E. Leiand Webber (right) foflowing 
presentation ol a check for $2,500 
representing an unrestricted gilt Irom the 
Atlantic Richfield Foundation to Field 
Museum. 

Atlantic Richfield, a New 'York based firm, Is 
now active in the Chicagoland area lollowing 
a merger with the Sinclair Oil Company. 

Unrestricted contributions totaling $616,000 
are needed by Field Museum to meet its 
operating budget of $3,919,000 lor 1971. 
This amount is over and above anticipated 
income Irom tax support, memberships, 
admissions, and other available funds. 



Phil Clark's Natural History Tours 

With termination this summer of Field 
Museum's Natural History Tours, Phil Clark, 
who has headed the program since its 
inception in 1967, will set up his own 
program, Phil Clark's Natural History Tours, 
at 520 North Michigan Avenue, Chicago, 
60611. 

Mr. Clark led tours for Field Museum to 
Guatemala, Mexico, Brazil, northeast India 
and Nepal, British Gardens, the Andes and • 
Galapagos Islands, and Scandinavia. He 
also served as Public Relations Counsel for 
Field Museum from May 1966 to the fall of 
1969. Before coming to Field Museum, he 
served as Public Relations Officer for the 
New York Botanical Garden, as Editor of 
Horticulture Magazine, and as Garden Editor 
for Mexican publications. 

He will lead tours for his new firm this 
fall to South India, and in winter 1972 to 
Africa, East and West. 



Bulletin July/August 1971 



15 



LETTERS 



To the editor: 

As a life member tliis past year (and former 
annual one) I get the Bulletin and enjoyed 
the recent issue [March], especially the 
long article by Paul S. Martin. After reading 
it and turning thru the rest of the publication, 
I came to "Fieldiana" by Patricia M. 
Williams. 

Your reference to G. A. Dorsey (whose first 
name I recall as George) brought back old 
memories. While he may never have been 
on the faculty of the U. of Chicago, his 
name was well known there, especially in 
the Department of Anthropolgy and related 
sciences. I took two courses there, between 
1910 and 1913, from Frederick Starr, an 
associate professor since 1891 in that field, 
who was never made a full professor 
because, it was generally said, he was more 
of a character than an acknowledged 
authority. He had brought some of the 
aboriginal exhibits to the World's Fair 1893 
on its famous "Midway." Maybe that led to 
his appointment in 1893 and not 1891. 

Starr was a lovable man and his wise 
sayings on innumerable subjects may have 
been worth more than what he was 
supposed to teach. His courses were 
generally considered "pipe" ones, havens 
for members of the football team, etc. 
(Shades of hymn-singing Amos Alonzo 
Stagg!) No one was ever flunked by Starr, 
and he would stand for everything but 
downright rudeness by a student. Then he 
would wither his taunter, but otherwise he 



would laugh at any honest joke or light 

flippancy. He gave parties in Haskell Hall 
at the end of each course (entertainment by 
himself and volunteer students), and always 
served cake and ice cream at the end of 
the evening. The ice cream, made by a 
local well-known outfit named Morse, was 
always the same, bricks of five colors and 
flavors to resemble, as he said, the five 
races of Man. (I could never figure out 
more than four.) When he retired in the 
1920's, his former students got together and 
gave him a cash purse of $15,000. No more 
tangible evidence of devotion was ever 
shown than that. With the money he bought 
a home in Seattle, where he lived out the 
rest of his days. I used to hear from him 
almost annually, a card sometimes from far 
places, from the time I graduated in 1913 
until near his end. All other former students 
got the same communications 

But to return to Dorsey. He wrote a weekly 
column in the Sunday Tribune, and when 
World War I started in August, 1914, he 
analyzed the causes in one of his first 
articles thereafter. As he put it, it was a 
struggle between Pan-Slavism and 
Pan-Germanism. That was from his own 
particular point of view. Actually, it was a 
struggle between "Who gets, or wants, 
what" as Dorothy Thompson was to say in 
a speech I heard, about World War II. All 
wars are for such ends, no matter what 
"idealistic" claims are made by the 
contenders. We entered World Wars I and II 
only when they began to hurt us. The 
Lusitania was sunk in 1915 and we did 
nothing. Wilson told us to remain neutral. 
But when our money, already loaned, was 
seen likely to go down the drain, we got 
into the fray. The same 25 years later. 
Hitler's atrocities did not force us in, but his 
victories and consequent ultimate threats to 
us. So much for poor old Dorsey and his 
narrow theories of causes. 

Alan D. Whitney 
Winnetka, Illinois 



To the editor: 

As a veteran visitor of the halls of the 
Museum of many years' enjoyment, I want to 
compliment you and your staff on the recent 
improvement of the format of the Bulletin. 
I note from the letters that you have had 
many compliments, and I affirm that they 
are well-earned. 

For some time I have been holding the 
March Bulletin on my desk as a reminder to 
write. 1 first was struck by the brilliant 
spread on the photography show. I like the 
calendar — I immediately found what 1 was 
looking for — an evening 1 can meet my 
daughter at the Museum. 

Cliff G. h4assoth 

Director of Public Relations and Advertising 

Illinois Central Railroad 

Chicago 



Please address all letters to the editor to 

Bulletin 

Field Museum of Natural History 
Roosevelt Road and Lake Shore Drive 
Chicago, Illinois 60605 

The editors reserve the right to edit letters 
for length. 



16 



Bulletin July/August 1971 



CALENDAR 



Exhibits 

Begins July 12 

Deerskin Jacket with painted decoration 
depicting warriors on horsebacl<, displayed 
in the South Lounge. A recent gift of 
Mrs. Richard D. Stevenson, the jacket was 
coliected by her grandfather, Carter H. 
Harrison III, in the early part of this century 
from the Sioux, probably of the Pine Ridge 
Agency. Through September 5. 

Continuing 

Cotor in Nature, an exhibit examining the 
nature and variety of color in the physical 
and living world, and how it functions in 
plants and animals. It focuses on the many 
roles of color, as in mimicry, camouflage, 
warning, sexual recognition and selection, 
energy channeling, and vitamin production, 
using Museum specimens as examples. 
Through November 28. Hall 25. 

The Afro-American Style, From the Design 
Worl<s of Bedford-Stuyvesant, an exhibit of 
textiles blending classical African motifs and 
contemporary design. The original Field 
Museum Benin artifacts which inspired 
many of the designs are also shown. 
Financial assistance for the exhibit was 
received from the CNA Foundation, Chicago. 
Through September 12. Hall 9. 

John James Audubon's elephant folio. The 
Birds of America, on display in the North 
Lounge. A different plate from the rare, 
first-edition volumes is featured each day. 

75th Anniversary Exhibit: A Sense of 

Wonder, A Sense of History, A Sense of 
Discovery, uses dramatic display techniques 
to explore Field Museum's past and present, 
and some of its current research projects. 
Continues indefinitely. Hall 3. 



Children's Programs 

Free Movies at 10 a.m. and 1 p.m. on 
Thursdays in the James Simpson Theatre. 

July 8 — "Zoos Around the World" 

A visit to some world-famous animals in 
world-famous zoos. 

July 15 — "Adventures of an Otter" 

A delightful story about a mischievous otter. 

July 22 — "Living Jungles" 

All about animals and plants in a tropical 
rain forest. 

July 29 — "The Red Balloon" 

The adventures of a big red balloon and 
its pet, a little boy. 

"Dinosaur Hunt," Summer Journey for 
Children, acquaints youngsters with 
prehistoric animals in Museum exhibits and 
paintings through a free, self-guided tour. 
All boys and girls who can read and write 
may participate. Journey sheets are available 
at Museum entrances. Through August 31. 

Film and Tour Program 

Continuing 

Free Natural History Film "Patterns for 

Survival" (A Study of Mimicry) presented at 
11 a.m. and 1 p.m. on Saturday, and 11 a.m., 
1 p.m., and 3 p.m. on Sunday in the second 
floor Meeting Room. The half-hour film 
offers an overall view of protective coloration 
in insects and provides visitors with an 
insight into the "Color in Nature" exhibit. 
Through September. 

Begins July 6 

Free Guided Tour of Field Museum exhibit 
areas leaves from the North information 
booth at 2 p.m. Monday through Friday. 
A color motion picture, "Through These 
Doors," focusing on behind-the-scenes 
activities at the Museum, is shown at 3 p.m. 
in the Lecture Hall, following the tour. 
Through September 3. 



Meetings 

July 14: 7:30 p.m.. Windy City Grotto, 

National Speleological Society 

August 11: 7:30 p.m., Windy City Grotto, 

National Speleological Society 

Coming in September 

"Between the Tides," Fall Journey for 
Children beginning September 1, takes them 
shell hunting for exotic and beautiful 
specimens in the Museum exhibit areas. All 
youngsters who can read and write are 
welcome to join in the activity. Journey 
sheets are available at Museum entrances. 
Through November 30. 



Houra 

9 a.m. to 6 p.m. Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday; 
Museum cafeteria open 9 a.m. to 2 P m. 

9 a.m. to 9 p.m. Wednesday, Friday, Saturday, 
and Sunday: Museum cafeteria open 9 a.m. 
to 7:30 p.m. 

The Museum Library Is open 9 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. 
Monday through Friday 



Volume 42, Number 8 September 1971 

Field Museum of Natural History 



BULLETIN 




BULLETIN 



Volume 42, Number 8 
September 1971 




Cover: Montage of photos taken by Dr. Phillip H. 
Lewis in New Ireland In 1954 and 1970. Above 
photo from montage shows strong Western influence 
on malanggan ceremonial art of 1970. 



2 New Ireland: Coming and Going 1970 

Phillip H. Lewis 

an anthropologist of today revisits a Melanesian village 
after sixteen years and finds much change in traditional 
art and ceremony 

10 Why Was William Jones Killed? 

Barbara Stoner 

an anthropologist of yesteryear meets disaster in the 

Philippines after sixteen months of field work 

14 Book Reviews 

15 Field Briefs 

16 Children's Workshops 
Calendar 



Field Museum of Natural History 

Director, E. Leland Webber 

Editor Joyce ZIbro; Associate Editor Elizabeth Munger; 
Fred Huysmans. 



Staff Writer Madge Jacobs; Production Russ Becker; Photography John Bayalis, 



The Bulletin is published monthly except August by Field Museum of Natural History, Roosevelt Road at Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, Illinois 
60605. Subscriptions; $9 a year; $3 a year for schools. Members of the Museum subscribe through Museum membership. Opinions expressed 
by authors are their own and do not necessarily reflect the policy ot Field Museum. Unsolicited manuscripts are welcome. Application to mail 
at second-class postage rates is pending at Chicago, Illinois. Postmaster; Please send form 3579 to Field Museum of Natural History, 
Roosevelt Road at Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, Illinois 60605. 



BULLETIN SEPTEMBER 1971 



new Ireland: 

coming and going 1970 



phllllp h. lewis 




BULLETIN SEPTEMBER 1971 



An anthropologist's view of the people 
he studies is complex. First of all, he 
comes to them with previously 
acquired scholarly knowledge of their 
history and their culture, both material 
and nonmaterial. Second, the 
anthropologist has often learned more 
about certain aspects of their life than 
many members of the society 
themselves know. This is particularly 
true when he has gained an historical 
view of their culture or a regional 
overview, neither of which is usually 
possible for people who live in a 
small, nonliterate, and isolated society. 
Third, the personal relationships the 
anthropologist develops while living 
with a people may lead to knowledge 
and feelings that differ from his prior 
scholarly knowledge and expectations. 

For these reasons (and many others) 
an anthropological field trip is often an 
emotionally moving, even trying, 
experience. Perceptions shift as 
abstractions and personal involvements 
must be accommodated. Besides this 
difficult intellectual adjustment, the 
anthropologist must also adjust from 
living an urbanized Western life to 
living in a tiny village in a culture close 
to subsistence level. During my stay in 
New Ireland last year I had to make 
these adjustments and at the same 
time compare my current observations 
with my recollections of life in New 
Ireland in 1954 when I had last been 
there. 

My feelings about these adjustments 
seemed most acute during two 
particular periods. One was the first 
few days of arrival; the other, the last 
few days as I left to return home. 
These were periods of heightened 
sensitivity for me, in that they were 
like passing through rites of transition 
between our two cultures. 

From January 3, 1970 until December 
7, 1970 1 lived in Lesu (official 
spelling, "Lossu"), a village on the 

Karake, left, and Biga, right, performing Pondewasi 
dance at author's farewell party. Their kapkap 
breast ornaments, formerly made of shell, are 
now made of paper. 



northeast coast of New Ireland in 
Melanesia in order to continue my 
study of New Ireland art and its social 
context. I had begun this work in 
1953-54, when my wife and I lived in 
Lesu for seven months. In the 
intervening years, I had studied 
collections of art and other cultural 
objects from New Ireland found in 
museums in several parts of the world. 
When I returned to New Ireland in 
1970, sponsored by the National 
Science Foundation and Field Museum, 
it was with a suitcase full of 
photographs of those specimens to 
show to New Irelanders, in an attempt 
to learn more about this fascinating 
art and the social and ceremonial 
system within which it functions. 

New Ireland art consists mostly of 
fantastic, filigreed, painted wood 
sculpture representations of human, 
animal, and supernatural beings, often 
intertwined with floral designs. They 
range from relatively simple figures to 
exceedingly complex multiple images 
carved on "totem-pole"-like columns 
to masks and various minor 
accessories such as dance 
paraphernalia, musical instruments, 
canoe ornaments, and house 
ornaments. All this is known to the 
Western world through over 15,000 
objects in various museums, most of 
which were collected while New 
Ireland was a German colony from 
1884 to 1914. The majority of New 
Ireland art objects are in German 
museums, the largest collection in 
Berlin's Museum fur Volkerkunde, and 
second largest in Field Museum. 

It is too soon to write here of the 
results of showing the museum 
photographs. I have yet to complete 
analyzing the many responses, 
searching for the meanings of the 
many different statements about 
specific objects, sorting out and 
reconciling contradictions, correlating 
responses from the various informants 
and data from the published literature, 
and relating everything to my ideas of 
how the whole system worked. 



I was also able to observe present-day 
survivals of the malanggan ceremonials 
(memorials for the dead, for which 
much of the art was made) and to 
study social change since 1953 and 
earlier in my home village, Lesu. 

As I drove toward Lesu my feelings 
were a mixture of excitement and 
anticipation at seeing the village and 
its people again after sixteen years 
and some apprehension about possibly 
unpleasant changes. I hadn't written 
ahead, and no one knew that I was 
returning. I wasn't particularly worried 
about that — I knew that I could just 
arrive and be welcome — but I wasn't 
sure about what temporary difficulties 
would arise; for example, in the kind of 
housing I could obtain, and the kind of 
life I'd have to lead in the first few 
days. In 1953 I hadn't had a car, and 
my wife and I had arrived with many 
cases of supplies on a truck owned by 
a local villager. We lived in the haus 
kiap (Pidgin for government rest 
house). By 1970 the system of 
administration had changed in that the 
government official, the kiap, drove 
everywhere, making rest houses 
obsolete. I knew that there was a 
Women's Clubhouse in Lesu in which 
I might be able to live, but that had 
not yet been arranged. I had been in 
Kavieng, New Ireland's principal town 
and port, for a few days, where I took 
delivery of the car I was to use and 
bought supplies, before heading for 
Lesu down the East Coast Road. 

The road had been built in German 
colonial times, before 1914. In 1953 it 
was narrow and barely passable, with 
deep ruts and potholes. The 
eighty-mile trip to Lesu then seemed 
like a day's uncomfortable drive. In 
1970, however, I found myself passing 
the villages of Tandes and Libba 
(eight and six miles north of Lesu) in 
under two hours, so improved had the 
road become. 

1 drove by these villages I had known 
thinking the houses looked small and 
weatherbeaten. Was Lesu going to look 



BULLETIN SEPTEMBER 1971 



new Ireland 



that way, too? I thought glumly of the 
possibility of Lesu with rusting iron 
roofs and other unlovely results of 
"progress." Would the people still be 
as cheerful and positive and outgoing 
as I remembered them, or would they 
have become reserved, withdrawn, 
sullen, perhaps even hostile? I had 
seen some signs of that in the bigger 
towns such as Port tvloresby and 
Rabaul. 

Soon! was passing the entrance to 
No. 2 Lesu (the Catholic half of the 
village), just north of No. 1 Lesu (the 
Protestant United Church half). There 
was the new brick primary school and 
finally there were the houses of No. 1 
Lesu itself. I stopped at the side of the 
road and looked. Nothing looked as I 
remembered it. The layout of the 
village was different and the houses 
all seemed to have shifted position. 
Tree-bordered paths had changed to 
an open treeless plaza. In 1953 many 
of the houses were raised a few feet off 
the ground on piles. Now they looked 
tiny, squat, close to the ground, only a 
few of them raised on short posts. 

I had just traveled through many large 
metropolitan centers — Honolulu, 
Auckland, Melbourne, Adelaide, 
Sydney — and had come from Chicago. 
In contrast, Lesu looked tiny, its 
houses seemingly too small to house 
full-sized people. The houses did 
seem mostly to be made in the style I 
remembered from 1953, with peaked, 
sago-leaf-thatched roofs and split 
bamboo walls nailed to sapling 
frameworks. That hadn't changed, 
although I saw a couple of houses 
with flat, sloping iron roofs. 

I pulled into one of the openings in the 
low stone wall between the village 
and the road, unwittingly using the 
very one I would use often during the 
coming months, the one leading to the 
Women's Clubhouse. I stopped the 
car and got out. 

Some people approached, and I 
began to regret not having written 
ahead to say I was coming as I 



scanned their faces, not recognizing 
anyone. Could they all have changed 
so that everyone was unrecognizable? 
I began talking in rusty Pidgin English, 
casting about in memory for names. 
Faced with a half dozen Lesuans, I 
couldn't think of a single one. 
Suddenly the name Biga came to 
mind, possibly because I had turned 
into Lesu right where his house had 
been in 1953. I asked for him. Some 
children indicated him approaching. It 
was indeed Biga, tall, spare, 
bespectacled (nickname. Eyeglass). He 
had been the Methodist minister of 
No. 1 Lesu in 1953, and here he 
came, walking over to see who was 
coming to visit Lesu. I involuntarily 
glanced at his eyeglasses, even before 
greeting him, to see if they were the 
same pair I had left with him in 1954, 
when he had complained of poor 
eyesight and had asked for my spare 
set. These were different, I was 
relieved to see. But it was Biga, 
marvelously recognizable, and as we 
greeted each other, with tears in our 
eyes, I knew I was home again in Lesu. 
Soon other old friends came forward 
and the welcome deepened. My wife, 
Sally, and I had been especially 
friendly with a group of high school 
boys in 1953-54 — Kuba, Karake, 
Marangot, Emos, and others — and here 
they were, young men in their thirties. 

Where was Sally, many people asked? 
I showed photographs of my family, 
which proved to be a favorite subject 
for the next few days. But the 
openness, amiability, and hospitality of 
Lesuans came to the fore. No 
arguments or recriminations. (Why 
didn't you write? What were you 
doing?) They knew it was rather a 
long time since 1 had been there, but 
here I was again and they seemed 
pleased at the idea. 

Other people began to appear, and I 
began to recognize old friends, 
especially younger men and women 
who looked in 1970 not unlike the way 
they did in 1954. People who had 
been infants or young children were 



much more difficult to recognize, as 
were persons who had been of 
middle age in 1954. 

My perceptions were rapidly shifting. 
The anticipated difficulties in 
recognizing the village and the people, 
in arriving too suddenly and 
unexpectedly, were fading in the warm 
glow of friendship and hospitality. I 
found that I had been reacting to 
superficialities in the village, the 
houses, and the people. The village 
plan had changed somewhat, but was 
beginning to look familiar again. I 
found later that the shifting was simply 
the result of continuous replacement 
of the ever-and-quickly deteriorating 
houses. Each new house was built 
next to the existing old one, which was 
destroyed when the new one was 
completed. The houses, which at first 
glance seemed so tiny and battered, 
began to assume a more reasonable 
appearance. They didn't seem so 
small as I got closer and could 
measure their size against their 
occupants, and as the memories of 
American and Australian skyscrapers 
began to fade from my mind. Indeed, 
the whole village was large and 
spacious, and house sizes and land 
coverage would compare favorably 
with many an American suburban 
town plan. In the days and weeks to 
follow I could not account for my 
initial view that Lesu was other than 
the neat, clean, and beautiful village 
which it was. 

Similarly, my initial perception of the 
people changed. I had plunged 
directly into the village, unannounced 
and unexpected, in late afternoon, 
when many people were just returning 
from their gardens and had not yet 
taken their daily dip in the sea. Many 
were wearing their working clothes, not 
their better clothing. Also, before I 
recognized many people, I had been 
scrutinizing their exterior appearance 
in a way one does not see a friend or 
acquaintance. One does not look at 
debris or leaves or dirt in the hair or 
on the clothing or faces of people one 



BULLETIN SEPTEMBER 1971 



knows. One looks instead at the 
expression of tine face, listens to what 
they are saying, or notices their 
gestures. And so indeed did it go. As 
we became reacquainted, as we began 
to recall old times and to talk about 
those not present, my family in 
Chicago, Lesuans away at school or 
working or who had died since 1954, 
we found ourselves responding to 
each other as people with shared 
experience. Lesu and its people were 
beginning to conform to the basic 
image I had taken away with me in 
1954, and which I had maintained over 
the years — a lovely place, with 
friendly, warm people. 

I asked where I could stay, at least 
for the night. I was told I could use a 
room of the Women's Clubhouse as a 
bedroom, and I saw that the veranda 
could be used as an office where I 
could interview people. The room at 
the other end was in use as a store, 
but beyond it, on a lower level, was a 
room which could be used as a 
kitchen. I was shown the latrine, 
located on the bush side of the road. 
The main thing that remained to be 
done for that evening was to unload 
my gear and supplies from the car. 

Many people pitched in, and in a 
short time the veranda of the Women's 
Clubhouse had all my gear and 
supplies on it. I got out my cot and 
bedding and set them up in the 
bedroom. The kerosene lamps were 
filled to light the fast-approaching 
dusk, and the pressure lamp was 
unpacked from its carton and 
prepared also. What would in later 
days be accomplished by me in a 
routine way — filling lamps and stove, 
checking the various parts and 
controls of the pressure lamp, keeping 
house without benefit of running water, 
electricity, or gas — that first evening all 
had to be done at once. I felt then 
what 1 remembered from 1954, the 
pleasant feeling of being helped, freely 
and generously, by Lesuans. The 
lamps were lighted, some of the gear 
and supplies stowed away. We turned 



on the battery-powered radio and 
tuned to Radio Rabaul, which 
furnished a background of string-band 
music. Among the groceries I had 
brought with me from Kavieng was a 
case of beer, which I had naively 
thought to consume slowly during the 
following weeks. But the occasion 
seemed to demand otherwise, so I 
opened it up and it was all gone in a 
few minutes. In 1953 alcohol had been 
forbidden to the native population, but 
that was definitely not so in 1970. So 
we all sat around and talked through 
the evening, recalling Lesu of sixteen 
years ago. A steady stream of people 
kept coming up to say hello — old 
friends, and some people I had never 
seen before. 

We agreed that I would pay rent to 
stay in the Clubhouse, that a shower 
room would be built at one corner of 
the house, some guttering would be 
run along the edge of the roof to 
catch rain water, and a 55-gallon drum 
set under it. A garage (haus kar) 
would be built to protect the car, and 
the latrine would be refurbished. All 
this was roughly settled in the evening, 
and 1 retired to spend my first night in 
Lesu. I didn't sleep well, what with the 
excitement of arriving, the new 
surroundings, and thinking ahead to 
the completion of settling in so I 
could get to work. 

The next day was Sunday, and since 
the Sabbath is strictly observed in 
Lesu, none of the proposed building 
projects could proceed until Monday. 
So I spent the day unpacking and 
stowing supplies and talking to people. 
Cameras and film were put into tins 
with silica gel to protect them from the 
very humid atmosphere. 

On Monday morning, the 5th of 
January, all the available manpower of 
No. 1 Lesu was mobilized, and by 
mid-afternoon the car was under a 
roof and the rest of the construction 
had also been finished. I hung my 
bucket shower in the shower room and 
began to consider the work ahead. 



The main task was to begin showing 
photographs to informants who, I 
hoped, could tell me something of the 
objects pictured. Since most of the 
objects in my photos were collected in 
German times — that is, prior to 1914 — 
that meant that ideal informants would 
be people who were adults at that 
time, who could have seen similar 
objects (or maybe even the very 
objects I had studied in the museums), 
so they would now be almost eighty 
years old. Secondly, younger 
informants, people in their thirties to 
sixties, could know something too, by 
hearsay from older people or by 
having seen similar but later objects 
made and used in ceremonies. The 
people to look for would very likely be 
men rather than women, since the men 
would have been more directly 
involved with the ceremonials, although 
women would not be completely ruled 
out. Women tend to be somewhat 
retiring in New Ireland society, 
especially when talking to strange 
Europeans. The kind of people to be 
considered first were those called "big 
men," the Melanesian Pidgin English 
term for traditional leaders in New 
Ireland and other Melanesian societies. 

Chieftainship is not much developed in 
Melanesian societies, and in New 
Ireland very little. Instead, certain men 
emerge as leaders, to direct work 
projects, to organize ceremonials, and 
in former days, in war. Accession to 
such leadership positions was informal 
and based on ability and force of 
personality, qualities obviously not 
easily transmitted by inheritance. Thus 
every village had one or more "big 
men." Sometimes they were the oldest 
men in a clan; at least, the oldest in a 
clan would be thought of as the most 
likely candidates. But if for reasons of 
personality and ability such a man was 
unable to muster a following and 
actually organize and lead the various 
necessary enterprises, he would not 
long be thought of as really a "big 
man," and someone else more able 
would come to the fore. Thus, seeking 
out informants knowledgeable about ■- 



BULLETIN- SEPTEMBER 1971 



new Ireland 



malanggan — the major memorial 
ceremonial of northern New Ireland, 
and the main social context for much 
of the art — meant seeking out "big 
men," the organizers and patrons of 
such ceremonials. Everyone, even 
children, knew who was a "big man," 
not only in Lesu and nearby villages, 
but in far-distant ones also. 

I was thus able to set out for visits to 
other villages armed with lists of 
names of such men. But then it was 
often hard to keep them aimed at my 
photos and problems and to get 
information about malanggan 
ceremonials and its art. These "big 
men" varied in their knowledge of the 
past, and in their attitude toward 
being interviewed by a stranger. Some 
were outgoing and eager to share 
their knowledge, others were 
suspicious and closemouthed. Some 
simply couldn't understand exactly 
what I wanted of them and continued 
through interviews focused on ideas 
and knowledge other than what I was 
interested in. But the main problem 
was that no one man in any locality 
really knew very much about 
malanggan in general. Some tended 
to be concerned with the affairs of 
their own small areas. Others, not 
having had much recent experience 
with malanggan ceremonials, had 
simply forgotten much and were 
unable to give the kind of detailed 
information I was seeking. 

"Big men" were often deferred to. I 
might ask to speak to an individual 
whose name I had, and that person 
would think that there was another, 
"bigger" man, or more knowledgeable 
one, but who was unfortunately not 
around that day. The man I was 
talking to would then decline to say 
much, in deference to the absent 
expert. 

Different attitudes toward Europeans 
came into play also. Most relationships 
with Europeans are not close, are 
frequently suspicious, and sometimes 
even hostile. It was a rare and very 



confident New Irelander who could 
immediately enter into an intimate, 
knowledge-sharing relationship with a 
strange European just because he 
dropped in off the road and wanted to 
know about malanggan. It was 
possible to get onto such a footing 
with some individuals, but not quickly 
or easily. At best, my drop-in visits 
would produce over-formal but 
informative interviews. At worst, I was 
greeted with suspicion, which was 
manifested by minimum information 
being divulged. 

Carvers were potentially a good source 
of information, and, indeed, one of the 
best interviews was with a carver. But 
so few carvers were around in 1970 
that I didn't learn much from them. 
The few I met were usually more 
interested in the photos than was 
anyone else. They seemed better able 
to appreciate what they were looking 
at — remarkable examples of art from 
the past — for they were the men who 
had actually tried their hand at making 
the carvings, even though in recent 
years the resultant works were not 
qualitatively the equal of earlier work. 
In contrast, the patrons, although they 
were more important socially in the 
organization and implementation of the 
malanggan ceremonies, and although 
they too were knowledgeable about 
names and designs of malanggans, 
were not involved with the art objects 
at the level of form, style, technique, 
and execution of the objects as art. A 
patron would leaf through the 
photographs looking for "his" 
malanggans, while a carver seemed to 
be more aware of and interested in 
the craftsmanship of the pieces. 

The main part of my research plans 
yielded less satisfying results than I 
had hoped for. The quality of 
informants often turned out to be 
different from what I had expected, 
and I found that structuring the 
interviews around the photographs was 
both good and bad. It was good when 
the informant recognized the objects 
and knew something specific about 



them. It was bad if an informant felt 
he had to say something when faced 
with a photograph, whether accurate or 
not. iVIost informants had an uncritical 
view of the quality of the pieces they 
saw in the photographs. They had 
seen these art objects only in 
context — that is, made to order for 
each occasion, and then destroyed. 
They had not seen many objects at 
one time, never any series of objects, 
and so had no basis for making 
esthetic comparisons. They had never 
seen a series through time or a series 
from different areas. Not only did the 
photo interviews rarely elicit judgments 
of esthetic or artistic value, I felt lucky 
if there was mere recognition of 
motifs. It was all rather sad, that the 
present-day descendents of the people 
who had commissioned, made, and 
used the marvelous art of New Ireland 
should know so little about it. 

Opportunity for another kind of work, 
which I had little hope of pursuing, 
loomed far beyond my expectations, 
however. This was the chance to 
observe on-going memorial 
ceremonials for the dead, which are 
the modern successor to the 
traditional malanggan ceremonials. In 
1954, when a person died, he got a 
Christian burial, and a few days later a 
concrete slab was poured over the 
grave as a marker. Then about a year 
later a malanggan ceremonial would 
be staged which would feature a 
carved malanggan object. In 1970, I 
found that after the burial the grave 
marker was not immediately 
constructed; rather, it was delayed so 
that its construction and erection took 
place at the same time as the 
malanggans of the past, about a year 
later. Also, the 1970 grave markers 
were constructed in a series of group 
work projects, each one celebrated by 
feasts and distributions of food, just as 
malanggans used to be. In fact, the 
scope of the ceremonies had grown, 
so that much larger amounts of 
money, foodstuffs, labor, and cement 
were going into the new grave-marker 
system than had gone Into the 



BULLETIN SEPTEMBER 1971 



Christian-burial-ma/anggan system. In 
1954 the largest malanggan 
celebration I had seen featured the 
killing and distribution of twenty-two 
pigs; in 1970 two different celebrations 
I saw had seventy pigs each. 

I attended all funerals and associated 
and related nnemorial ceremonials I 
could get to. Sometimes I went as a 
stranger, along with other strangers 
who came to see the large-scale 
festivities and dance presentations, but 
mostly I followed the lead of Lesu 
people as they frequently were drawn 
into participation in such affairs by 
their social and kinship relationships. 
It was best to go with Lesuans, 
because I could then better observe 
and understand the system of 
contributions of food and money and 
involvement as it all came alive in 
terms of real people whose social and 
kinship relationships I knew. For 
Lesuans, there was the advantage that 
if I went along my car furnished 
transportation, especially for the 
women, who often had to carry their 
baskets of contributions to the feasts 
and distributions for distances of up to 
ten miles; and then had to bring back 
heavy loads of distributed foodstuffs. 
With the increased ownership and use 
of trucks in 1970, often villagers hired 
trucks to do that, especially for longer 
distances, but a free ride was always 
appreciated. 

I had many opportunities to observe 
this kind of funeral-memorial complex 
in 1970, the surviving social context of 
malanggan, which, instead of declining, 
was still very much alive and 
apparently expanding. 

A third kind of study I found myself 
drawn into was of social change in 
Lesu itself. 

One great change was population 
growth. Population decline in the 
Pacific has been a long-term concern 
for many years, to the point that in the 
1920s and 30s there was worry that it 
was irreversible and that populations 



were decreasing to dangerously low 
levels. Not so in 1970. Pacific area 
populations are now on the rise. 

In Lesu the population is now about 
67 percent greater than it was in 1954. 
The increase between 1929 and 1954 
was only about 5 percent. However, a 
dysentery epidemic in 1948 made the 
population lower than it would otherwise 
have been. In 1954 it was rare for a 
family to have more than two or three 
children, and there seemed to be many 
childless couples who said that they 
wanted children but didn't have any. 
In 1970 there were families with four, 
five, even seven or eight children, all 
alive and well, and beginning to make 
their presence felt in society. 

The population increase must be partly 
explained by better health resulting 
from better nutrition and medical 
services. In 1970 general health 
seemed better and the younger people 
seemed larger and heavier. A number 
of years of malaria control and 
mosquito eradication were apparent, for 
far fewer people seemed to be 
suffering from malaria. Increased and 
more efficient motor transport (better 
roads, more cars and trucks, and a 
daily bus service) made the hospital in 
Kavieng and the several other medical 
facilities on the island much more 
available than formerly for treatment of 
illnesses and accidents. 

Another change was that the people 
of Lesu were wealthier in 1970 because 
of increased cash crop production. 
More copra was being produced and 
sold, cocoa was coming into 
production, sale of timber was 
beginning, and there was greater 
involvement in wage and salaried 
employment of various kinds. More 
European foodstuffs are used, such as 
tinned fish and meat, rice, sugar, tea, 
and coffee. Consumption of tobacco in 
the form of cigarettes, trade (stick) 
tobacco, native grown tobacco, and 
newspaper (for rolling "cigars") has 
increased. More European style 
clothing was worn, such as shorts, 



shirts, tee shirts, rubber sandals, hats. 
A number of battery-operated transistor 
radios were owned and used, also 
more kerosene (wick) lamps and some 
pressure lamps were in daily use. A 
number of people owned bicycles. 
Three trucks were owned in Lesu in 
1970, and a fourth was paid for and 
on order at the time I left. Considerable 
amounts of money circulated in the 
memorial ceremonial system and in 
bride-price payments, and undoubtedly 
money was being saved. The local 
government council has built two large 
school buildings of brick. A private 
entrepreneur has built a number of 
brick houses and a brick church in 
No. 2 Lesu. The United Church 
congregation in No. 1 Lesu wants to 
construct a brick church building, and 
some individuals would like to build 
brick houses for themselves. 

There was much more interest and 
participation in education in 1970 than 
in 1954. The Territory government has 
spent more money on education, 
teacher training, and construction. One 
consequence of the increased level of 
education is that many Lesuans can 
speak and read English and are more 
aware of the rest of the world. The 
increase in radio broadcasting has also 
helped to broaden the horizon for 
Lesuans. On their radios they hear 
local and world news among other 
offerings, in Pidgin English, English, 
and sometimes in their own languages. 

Political activity has increased too, in 
Lesu as well as the rest of New Ireland. 
The government-appointed native 
officials of 1954 have given way to 
elected officials with considerable 
power over the conduct of local affairs. 
In 1970 there was much discussion of 
rapidly approaching self-government 
and ultimate independence. 

New Irelanders thus find themselves 
drawn increasingly into the modern 
wider world. In 1954, although they 
had already considerably changed 
from a pre-contact condition, they 
lived close to subsistence level and 



BULLETIN SEPTEMBER 1971 



new Ireland 



knew very little of the outside world. By 
1970 there had been a considerable 
and qualitative leap into the world 
community. For purposes of my study 
this meant that they were much further 
away from the part of their past I was 
interested in — their art and ceremonial 
life — but, paradoxically, a flourishing 
ceremonial life continued. 

These changes seem one-way and 
irreversible. There remain possibilities 
of various syntheses between the 
indigenous culture and that of the 
wider world, so that as New Irelanders 
push into this world, they may yet 
retain elements of their traditional 
culture too. 

Thus my work continued through 1970, 
seeking out and interviewing informants 
about the old art, attending the 
ceremonies still carried on, and 
observing the changes in Lesu society 
during the recent past. I was living in 
the present-day Lesu, but my inquiries 
were aimed at a period from the past, 
going back from 1970, through 1954, 
1930 (when Powdermaker had been 
there), and to the German colonial 
period, back to before the turn of the 
century. 

Finally, the last weeks of November 
arrived and I began to prepare for the 
return journey — to disengage myself 
from Lesu in order to go home again. 

If my arrival at Lesu had been abrupt 
and without warning to the people of 
Lesu, my departure was anything but 
that. Everyone knew that I was going 
to leave December 7th. Weeks ahead 
of time planning started for farewell 
parties, and various suggested affairs 
shook down to two: a large general 
feast and program, and a smaller, 
private party scheduled by Karake, to 
symbolize our friendship. In earlier 
times there were no going-away 
parties, because no one went 
anywhere. Now more and more New 
Irelanders go away from home to work 
or attend school. To mark such 
occasions, farewell parties are given. 



consisting of feasting, oratory, and 
singing. 

The main party began on the evening 
of November 27th, a Friday, at about 
8 p.m., with a string band from 
Lamussong, a village about eight miles 
south of Lesu. String bands are a very 
recent phenomenon in the Territory of 
Papua and New Guinea, and seem to 
have sprung up in the wake of 
spreading radio broadcasting in the 
area. A string band consists of men 
playing guitars and ukeleles — both 
purchased ready-made and homemade 
of bush materials — plus various other 
homemade instruments. No traditional 
instruments are used in these bands. 
Formal dance presentations and 
informal participation in the dancing 
are part of the string band complex. 
The music is simple but engaging, and 
the songs are in Pidgin English and 
local languages and tell stories of 
love, friendship, and everyday 
happenings. The dancing looks like a 
joyous blend of the Twist and the 
Hula. The Lamussong band played 
constantly for thirteen hours, joined 
for a while at night by two other 
bands. Tu-lait (dawn) saw many 
onlookers departing but the band 
played till 9 a.m. After one hour's rest 
the main program began. Feasting, 
speeches by friends in Lesu, traditional 
dancing, and food distribution are 
characteristics of Lesu celebrations 
and marked this party as well. 

On the 3rd of December I had another 
busy day, delivering the last two crates 
to the shipper in Kavieng, turning over 
the car to its purchaser, closing my 
bank account, picking up my return 
air ticket, and returning to Lesu on a 
truck owned by a Lesu man, Patrick 
De. My friends had urged me to stay 
in Lesu until after midnight of the 6th 
and let them accompany me to the 
airport by means of Patrick's truck. I 
agreed to do that because it seemed 
appropriate to leave New Ireland 
directly from Lesu. 

Karake's party was December 4th at 



his house. It started with presentation 
of gifts, many for my family in 
Chicago, especially the children, each 
gift being offered while shaking hands 
goodbye. We then had a feast and 
spent the rest of the night singing 
songs, which I recorded on the tape 
recorder. Tu-lait was more easily 
reached this time, it seemed, after the 
practice at the big party previously. I 
slept a few hours on Saturday morning, 
and during the day took photos of 
people I had missed in earlier 
photography. On Saturday evening I 
talked to friends, with the sad feeling 
that this was the next to last evening I 
would see them for a long time. Finally 
I retired to spend what turned out to 
be my last night of sleep in New 
Ireland, for Sunday night proved to be 
far too busy for sleep. 

Sunday, December 6th, was obviously 
the last day for packing, or for 
anything else. A recurring question 
was, "Do you think you'll come back 
another time?" I thought over the 
elements of an honest answer to that 
question, such as research possibilities, 
financing, and the like, and fell back 
on the lame position that I hadn't 
known I would come back when I left 
in 1954, and I did come back, so 
maybe I would be able to come again 
in the future. It was suggested not 
altogether jokingly that my son David 
(now 13) could come back and live 
with them as a second generation 
anthropologist and study their 
succeeding generations. But none of 
this talk really convinced any of us 
that I thought I would be able to 
return soon. 

The problem of disposing of my 
household gear hadn't really been 
tackled yet, and as the afternoon wore 
on, I began to dismantle my living 
arrangements so I could give away the 
various items. Through the evening, 
many people came and stayed with 
me and helped in the packing. It was 
not unlike the vigil carried out 
traditionally for a person thought likely 
to die. About midnight a group of men 



8 



BULLETItJ SEPTEMBER 1971 



came from Tandes, to shake hands 
and sing a few songs. They left and I 
distributed my gear, and finally I was 
left with only my luggage, and began 
to await the arrival of the truck to take 
us to Kavieng. 

The truck was to be driven over from 
No. 2 Lesu at about 3:30 a.m. so that 
the drive to Kavieng would get us to 
the airport before 6 a.m. We began to 
await the arrival of the truck, for at 
that time I would have to say a final 
goodbye to the majority of the Lesuans, 
since only a few would come with me 
to the airport. 

But my sadness at leaving soon began 
to be replaced by anxiety about the 
arrival of the truck and the beginning 
of my fear that I would miss the plane! 
3:30 came, but no truck. At 3:45 I 
began to fear that I would miss the 
plane. 4 o'clock came and still no 
truck, but finally at 4:20, headlights 
appeared and soon the truck pulled 
up before the house. 

We shifted my luggage down the stairs 
and into the truck. People crowded 
around to shake hands. Tears were in 
many eyes, and those who were to 
come with me climbed in the truck. 
Sau, one of my best informants and a 
close friend, was crying openly. Last 
goodbyes were shouted and the truck 
pulled out at about 4:30 a.m. 

I rode in the cab of the truck, grateful 
for the chance to be relatively alone. 
Fortunately Talawe, in the cab with me, 
chose not to say much either. We 
concentrated on smoking cigarettes 
and watching the night-time East Coast 
Road unreel before us in the glare of 
the headlights. At about 5:30 we 
passed a village I knew to be half 
way to Kavieng, and thus knew that 
we had a chance of making the airport 
on time. 

At about 6:05 with the sunrise cheerily 
spreading, at a point about fifteen 
miles from the airport, we stopped for 
a few minutes to wash up and toilet 



some of the children at a nearby 
beach. Before that the people had 
been huddled in the open rear of the 
truck, with their flimsy shirts buttoned 
up against the wind and they had 
looked cold and bleak. But now with 
the tropical sun rising rapidly and the 
familiar warmth again beginning to be 
felt, everyone seemed in better spirits. 
The children scampered back to the 
truck. We all climbed back in and 
went on, to turn in at the airport at 
about 6:40 a.m. 

We pulled up to the terminal, I 
checked my bags and I turned to my 
friends. We said our last goodbyes and 
I walked onto the plane. 

As the plane took off, and headed 
south toward Rabaul, I tried not to 
think of them there waving and 
watching the plane vanish. I wondered 
if I would ever see them again. Lesu 
was so far from Chicago, in miles and 
in difference in culture. But their lives 
would go on and so would mine. We 
would think of each other often, but 
communication would be slow and 
incomplete. 

And what of my work, what had I 
learned in a year? That eliciting the 
past, even the relatively recent last 
seven or eight decades, is not readily 
done, that there is much that I don't 
know of New Ireland art and 
ceremonial. I considered the work 
ahead, the task of shaking down, 
abstracting something significant from 
the minutiae in my notes. The still 
functioning memorial ceremonials, the 
new-style cement grave markers, could 
be considered to be part of the system 
of art and ceremonial. Also my corpus 
of photos of museum specimens 
provided evidence that there really had 
been a rich and fantastic world of art 
in New Ireland and that it had flourished 
as recently as forty years ago. 

Their new interests and activities such 
as politics and cash cropping were 
signs of New Irelanders "emerging" 
into "our" world and away from their 



traditional culture. My feelings were 
mixed about that; I hated to see the 
riches of the traditional past 
abandoned, but on the other hand the 
people of New Ireland liked many 
aspects of their new life, and I shared 
their pleasure. 

The plane angled away from New 
Ireland, and the island shrank in size 
so that what I remembered of the 
luxuriant vegetation, dotted with 
peaceful villages of calm and pleasant 
people faded away in the distance into 
misty blue shapes. The petty routines 
of air travel began to assert 
themselves. I thought ahead to the 
transits through the various increasingly 
large and complex and bustling air 
terminals, Rabaul, Lae, Port Moresby, 
Brisbane, Sydney, then Honolulu, 
Los Angeles, and finally Chicago. In 
9 hours I landed in Sydney, and in 
about 17 hours more at O'Hare 
Field in Chicago. I thought of the 
problems of lag of one's biological 
rhythms after being hurled thousands 
of miles from the other side of the 
world, but knew that such adjustment 
was going to be much, much easier 
and quicker than learning to adjust to 
living away from Lesu. 



SUGGESTED READINGS 

Phillip H. Lewis. "The Social Context of 
Art in Northern New Ireland," Fieldiana: 
Anthropology, vol. 58, May 29, 1969. 



Hortense Powdermaker. Lite in Lesu. 
York: W. W. Norton & Co. Inc., 1933; 
paperback N566, 1971. 



New 



Dr. Phillip H. Lewis is curator of primitive art 
and Melanesian ethnology, Field Museum. 



BULLETIN SEPTEMBER 1971 



^AAhy was 

^A^illiam Jones killed? 



Barbara Stoner 



William Jones was born March 28, 
1871, on the Sauk and Fox Reservation 
in Oklahoma. His mother was an 
English girl, Sarah Penny; his father, 
Henry Clay Jones, was the son of a 
Fox Indian mother and an English 
father who had gone west with Daniel 
Boone and fought in the Black Hawk 
War. William Jones died in April of 
1909, killed by the llongots of Luzon 
in the Philippines, while on an 
anthropological expedition for Field 
Museum. 

Sarah Penny Jones died when her son 
was one year old. Henry Milner 
Rideout, in his biography William Jones 
(1912) quotes him: 

"My dear old grandmottier used to tell me 
that I was born in the springtime, when the 
bluebirds were coming from the south and 
were looking about in the dead trees for 
holes to build their nests in. Grass was just 
coming up, and with it the flowers. She used 
to tell me how she would carry me about, 
and a whole lot more things which I 
sometimes live over, though more often they 
seem but a tale. Then the summer went by, 
and the winter followed, and the next spring 
they laid my mother to rest. This is the way 
she recorded time, and that is the way it 
has always come to me." 

Jones lived with his grandmother, 
Katiqua, a "medicine woman" of the 
Fox tribe, until her death when he was 
nine, and it was from her that he first 
heard the legends he was later to 
collect. He then lived first with his 
father's new family and later with his 
mother's people until his father sent 
him to an Indian boarding school in 
Wabash, Indiana, maintained by the 
Society of Friends, for three years. 
There followed three more years as a 
cowboy on the Great Plains, a period 
which ended with the spring round-up 
of 1889 when Jones was 18. After 
schooling at Hampton Institute in 
Hampton, Virginia, he went on to 
the Phillips Andover Academy in 
Andover, Massachusetts in 1892. 

Jones began his career at Andover 
with an Idea that he might study 
medicine and go back to his people 
as a healer. The idea remained just 
that. He graduated from Phillips 



Andover in the spring of 1896 and 
spent that summer with his father 
canvassing the tribes of the Great 
Plains for students to send to the 
Indian school in Carlisle, Pennsylvania. 
In the autumn of 1896 he began his 
studies at Harvard. 

One of his first mentors at Harvard 
was F. W. Putnam, Peabody Professor 
of American Archaeology and 
Ethnology, and under Putnam's 
influence, Jones' thoughts about the 
future turned more and more away 
from medicine and toward Indian 
ethnology. Every summer was spent on 
the western plains, collecting stories 
and observing and noting down 
customs and festivals. 

Recommended by Putnam, Jones 
entered Columbia in the fall of 1900 
and became President's University 
Scholar in his first year. He received his 
A.M. degree in June of 1901. In July 
he was appointed University Fellow in 
Anthropology for the following year 
under Franz Boas, then Professor of 
Anthropology at Columbia, as well as 
Curator of Anthropology at the 
American Museum of Natural History. 
During the summer Jones again did 
field work among the Fox and Sac, 
and on returning to New York 
announced his engagement to 
Miss Caroline Andrus, of Hampton, 
Virginia. 

The summers of 1902 and 1903 were 
spent in field work and on June 8, 
1904 he received his Ph.D. degree. 
Summer of 1904 found him back on 
the Great Plains, but the following year 
there was no further work among the 
Indians. He was ready now for 
permanent employment in his chosen 
field and had wanted very much to go 
to Labrador to work with the Naskapi 
Indians, but no positions in this 
direction were open. In 1906 Dr. 
George A. Dorsey of Field Museum 
offered him his choice of three 
expeditions: to Africa, the South Seas, 
or the Philippines. He chose the 
Philippines, and in June of 1906 
Dr. William Jones came to Chicago. 



Rideout quotes Jones on the city: 

"You know, ... the part of the city I am 
in is like an inland country town with lots of 
open air and space; and so I never go 
down town into the dust, cinders, rush and 
noise, only when I have to. The Museum, 
you know, is on the Lake. There are green 
plots, with trees often. For example, a 
maple comes up to my window. To smoke I 
must go out of doors, which in one way 
is a hardship, but in another is quite a 
recreation; for the lawns and groves and 
lagoons, and big Lake are all there." 

At that time the Museum was housed 
in its original quarters in Jackson Park, 
now the Museum of Science and 
Industry. 

Jones made a last visit to the Great 
Plains in the summer of 1907, then 
said goodbye to his friends and Miss 
Caroline Andrus, and sailed from 
Seattle in August on the Aki Maru 
bound for Manila. 

His route from Manila lay, according 
to Rideout, "round the north end of 
Luzon, by sea, to Aparri at the mouth 
of the Cagayan River, in Isabela 
Province; thence up the river, 
southward, among the hills and the 
wild hill-people." Jones' diaries and 
letters, now in the archives of the 
Department of Anthropology of Field 
Museum, tell the rest of the story. 

Reaching Echague on the Cagayan 
River in November of 1907, Jones 
spent the rest of that year and the 
early months of 1908 investigating the 
area around Echague and making 
preparations to go upstream to the 
country of the llongots. 

The llocanos living in the Echague 
region were at first less than 
cooperative. In March of 1908 a head 
was taken, and Jones photographed 
the headless body, which was in a 
cave. April 6 he wrote of the llocanos: 
"These people here are also warning 
me not to go to the llongots, saying 
that we are going to certain death." 
And later: "The llocanos here are 
pretty badly scared; they fear lest the 
llongots come any time to attack 
them." 



10 



BULLETIN SEPTEMBER 1971 



Right, William Jones, photographed in Chicago, 
1907. Left, three llongot men taken into custody 
for the murder of Dr. Jones. 




The llocanos were acculturated 
migrants from the llocos province and 
were no longer headhunters. They 
depended upon the constabulary for 
protection and did not make retaliatory 
raids against the llongots. On April 9 
a military expedition against the 
llongots was undertaken by the 
constabulary in connection with the 
missing head. On the 11th the soldiers 
returned, having set fire to a deserted 
village and seen no one. 

On April 15, 1908 Jones was at last 
on his way upstream to the country of 
the llongots. The next day he reached 
Dumubatu, and here he first 
encountered the people with whom he 
was to live for the next year. "At 
present everything looks extremely 
rosy. The people have fetched me rice, 
camote [sweet potatoes], chickens, 
and honey in bamboo tubes. I am 
sharing this food with my Christiano 
Yogads, and the llongots who gave it 
have invited themselves to help eat it." 
The llongots complained somewhat 
about soldiers but were not unpleasant 
about it. Here he first observed the 
way the llongots made a formal 
contract — by each party tying knots in 
a string called "bitals." The making of 
this contract or promise was referred 
to as "making bitals." 



Generally, Jones got on well with his 
hosts, and always referred to them as 
his "friends." Jones ate with them, 
slept with them, and hunted with them. 

Do you know the wild carabao, sometimes 
called ttie wild buffalo? That animal offers 
the best sport of anything out here. It is a 
fighter all the time, will often give chase like 
the grizzly on general principles. It's all day 
with a man if he wounds one and the animal 
is between him and a tree or a place of 
refuge. I had the great pleasure of killing a 
whopper one day. It would take pages to 
tell of the thrilling joy an llongot and I 
had in doing it. 

His diaries are full of descriptions of 
the appearance and behavior of many 
individuals, and it is clear that he saw 
them and valued them as individuals. 
Through most of his stay with the 
llongots Jones exhibited kindness and 
a willingness, if not always the ability, 
to understand. For the first few months 
his diaries relate almost daily his 
observations of near-nudity and the 
open performance of natural functions, 
as well as of the bantering back and 
forth on sexual subjects. He did not 
judge this behavior, but the frequency 
with which it is mentioned in the 
diaries suggests that he obviously 
needed to adjust to it. Only when the 
behavior of the llongots infringed on 
his ability to carry out his work and 
made frustrating demands on him did 



his discipline break down and cause 
him to make mistakes. 

After leaving Dumubatu, he spent 
some time in the hamlet of Panipagan 
and then left for Kagadyangan. Panakat, 
headman of Panipagan and his former 
host, was much put out and begged 
and bribed Jones to stay. Jones, 
however, insisted on going and was 
made welcome in Kagadyangan in the 
home of the headman there, Takadan. 

Wherever he went, the llongots soon 
became jealous over every little gift 
Jones made, and they were also 
jealous of his attentions to the sick. 
As soon as one person was given an 
ointment or medicine, a dozen others 
developed the same symptoms. On 
July 4 a man whose arm Jones had 
treated previously died, apparently of 
heart failure. Jones went back to 
Panipagan to examine the body at 
Palidat's house, and explained that the 
medication had had nothing to do with 
the man's death. The explanation that 
the man had died of too much basi (a 
local wine) seemed to be accepted, 
and on the advice of Romano (Jones' 
manservant) Jones returned to the 
house of Takadan. On July 7 he wrote: 
"I find that I had made a big mistake 
by coming away from Palidat's when 



BULLETIN SEPTEMBER 1971 



11 



I did. " The mistake is not clear, but it 
seems to have had something to do 
with etiquette. As we will see, a man 
named Palidat is mentioned by Rideout 
as the one who struck the first blow 
when Jones was later attacked and 
killed. It is probable, although 
unsubstantiated, that this is the same 
man. 

The year was wearing on and Jones' 
patience was wearing thin. He began 
to make more mistakes, lost his 
temper more often, and tried to teach 
the llongots "lessons" in ethics. On 
July 29 the following incident took 
place when a man did not like the 
comb Jones had given him as well as 
one given another man: 

... I told the people what I thought of 
Maglern, that instead of being a man he was 
yet a little boy; that though he was the son 
of Kapunwan — leading man — yet he did not 
know how to act like one; that he threw the 
comb at the teniente (Palidat) as he would 
a stick at a dog; and that his whole behavior 
was most unbecoming even of a good man, 
not to mention that of a Kapunwan. The 
father, uncle, Gatma and others at once 
came forward offering excuses, saying it 
was only a joke, just for fun. I refused to 
take it as such. 

On August 25, 1908 Jones wrote to 
Dr. Franz Boas: 

I am writing from the country of the llongots 
at a place In the mountains of Southern 
Isabella ... an llongot district called 
Tamsi . . . There is a nominal peace among 
the four districts, but it is not of a kind to 
establish much confidence . . . The llongot 
easily gives expression to his emotions . . . 
I have seen little that would make me think 
that they ever steal. But they lie as easily as 
they breathe . . . They say it is nothing, 
that it is the way with all men everywhere . . . 

"Lying" occurred mostly in terms of 
time. The llongots had a poor sense of 
time in the Western sense. Theirs was 
a day-to-day existence, and the 
importance of meeting on the river 
bank with banquillas (dugout canoes) 
by such an hour on such a day was a 
concept which they poorly understood. 

Further light is thrown on llongot lies 
to white men by the entry for Friday, 
October 2, 1908: "Inamon [headman 
of Tamsi] has explained to me why he 



lied to Captain Bowers. First 
concerning the trips to Panipagan and 
Kagadyangan. Inamon said that the 
Captain was anxious to go there, and 
when Bowers asked him if it would 
be all right to go he gave him the 
answer he wanted to hear; that the 
Captain did not care to hear anything 
else ..." 

Jones visited other llongot settlements, 
although he did not become as well 
acquainted with the inhabitants of 
those villages as he did at Dumubatu, 
Panipagan, Kagadyangan, and Tamsi. 
His diaries contain many pages of 
ethnographic descriptions of houses, 
tools, procedures and living habits. He 
was always bothered by begging. The 
people were very jealous over his 
presents to them and tried nearly every 
trick at their disposal to obtain as 
much as they could. It is quite 
understandable that they would. It must 
also have been a terribly frustrating 
situation for Jones to deal with. 

The next few months were spent 
visiting and revisiting the llongot 
villages, making notes and gathering 
material for the collection. On February 
25, a last letter to a friend ends on a 
wistful note: "And may the Lord be 
merciful to your sinful soul, and bring 
you safe to Manila, where we can 
open a cool bottle and another in 
memory of other days and of friends 
5,000 miles or more away." 

Rideout's biography states: "Balsas — 
bamboo rafts — were needed to bring 
Dr. Jones and his ethnologic freight 
down river to the friendly huts at 
Dumubatu and the Christiano town of 
Echague. Two hamlets, Panipagan and 
Kagadyangan, had promised and failed 
to bring these balsas, had promised 
again and failed again . . ." Jones' 
patience grew even shorter. On Friday, 
March 26, 1 909, he wrote from 
Dumubatu of the promised balsas: "If 
they fail to show up then on the 
morning after I will go up to 
Kagadyangan, and if I go I will make 
Kagadyangan pay for it." 



Sunday, March 28: "Sibley got away 
this noon. Before he departed, I had 
him and the llongots make a bital to 
meet at Inamatan 10 days hence; they 
are to leave with me four days from 
now for Echague . . ." 

Monday, March 29: "Nine balsas have 
come and the men have lashed them 
together in pairs. The number is hardly 
enough, but it is about all they have. 
I may be compelled to go on to 
Panipagan after all to get other balsas 
and men." 

Wednesday, March 31: "The up-river 
people have not yet arrived, and now 
it looks as if I shall have to go after 

them." 

Rideout's biography gives March 29, 
1909, as the date of Jones' death. 
However, the last entry in Jones' diary 
is dated April 2, 1909. It reads: 

It rained far into the night and drizzled 
awhile this morning. About 8 o'clock it 
began to clear and at 10 the sun was out. 
By that time I was on way to Panipagan 
where I am now. I got Pascual's banquilla 
and Gonuat and R. poled. At Sanbei I ran 
into Panakat and 5 of his men. They had 
been hunting across the river and were 
probably about to return home. I went ashore 
and called for them to come down. They 
knew why I had come and were at first slow 
about coming. I then went up to a man who 
continued to work and got behind him. This 
fetched them all down to the water. 

Then I told them in sharp language what I 
thought about people who lied to me as 
they had done, that they had better not 
return but go on down to Dinnabatu Isic] 
where I would see them tomorrow. 

Then I had Panakat get in the banquilla and 
come on with us to his town. We arrived 
here about four or little after. Immediately 
upon my arrival at Cipdut's house I sent for 
Takadan and Magin to come this evening, 
in a couple of hours Takadan arrived. A 
heavy shower was pouring at the time. I 
then lashed him with my tongue. I tried to 
shame him for lying to me, for making 
bitals with me and not keeping them, for 
ignoring my requests which he said he 
would fulfill, and so on. Then I told him to 
send runners through his district and bring 
me six balsas and six men by tomorrow 
forenoon; that if the balsas were not here I 
would take him down the river with me. He 
tried to persuade me to let him go home 
and urge his people to comply with my 



12 



BULLETIN SEPTEMBER 197) 



Photograph taken at Tamsi, Luzon by Dr. William 
Jones. Adults In foreground, left to right, Wipat, a 
hunter from Dumubatu; Tal^adan. headman of 
Kagadyangan: Inamon, headman of Tamsi. 




wants, but I told him he had lied to me so 
often that I could not believe him any 
longer. I told him to go sit down and not 
leave the house until I gave him permission 
to do so and to send anyone he wished to 
carry messages to his people. Tolan was in 
calling distance and he went off in the 
rain and gathering darkness with what I 
had told Takadan. 

The next day, according to Rideout, a 
man named Palidat, "w/hom Jones had 
cured of a sickness," drew/ near, 
"patted the doctor on the shoulder, and 
smiled. 'We shall bring more balsas 
to-morrow,' said he; and at the same 
instant, reaching swiftly, drew his bolo" 
and struck Jones on the neck. 

Jones' life might have been saved 
had not his holster flap been fastened. 
While he was struggling with the 
button, he was slashed across the arm 
and then given a mortal spear wound 
below the heart. Gonuat and Romano 
Dumaliang, his faithful servants, helped 
fight the llongots off, and eventually 



were able to get Jones on board the 
banquilla and push off. Poisoned 
arrows shot after them as the Pung-gu 
rapids caught the boat and hurled 
them downstream. Dr. Jones, still 
conscious, helped bind the wounds of 
his companions. Upon reaching 
Dumubatu, Romano, according to 
Rideout: 

following orders, went up among the hovels 
and called the people, who came down to 
the shore and set a guard roundabout; for 
the doctor's only fear had been that those 
llongots up-river might descend and take 
his head. About an hour later, Romano put 
some question to his master, who lay still 
in the boat. He received no answer. Jones 
had quietly closed his eyes forever, while 
the great stream ran silent underneath him 
and tropic stars burned overhead. 

Dr. William Jones was buried in the 
Municipal Cemetery at Echague. His 
murderers were captured, tried, and 
sentenced to death by the Court of 
First Instance, given clemency by the 
Supreme Court of the Islands, and 



allowed by their native constabulary 
guard to escape. Field Museum 
assistant curator of anthropology S. C. 
Simms went out to Luzon to collect 
the results of Dr. Jones' year and a 
half of work. Mr. Simms also provided 
for a suitable monument to be erected 
at the spot where the body of Dr. 
Jones was buried. 

Why was Jones killed? The evidence 
does not point to much premeditation, 
although the decision to kill him may 
have been made when Jones detained 
Takadan. Jones had been 
understandably irritated. Travel 
conditions in 1908 were not such that 
he could get down to Manila for a 
weekend respite. He had spent sixteen 
long and arduous months with the 
llongots. He had lost his temper before 
with no serious repercussions. But 
Takadan was an elder, and the 
llongots had a great respect — almost 
a reverence — for their elders. Jones, in 
his impatience to get downstream to 
Aparri, on to Manila, and then home to 
his fiancee and his work among the 
Indians, may have overstepped his 
bounds, crossed a line which no 
llongot could let go unrevenged. The 
llongots lived in a world of violence. 
To kill and take a head was a sign of 
manhood, a sign of a great warrior. 
Ten years later may have made a 
difference in their reactions — or in 
Jones'. Perhaps it was simply an 
impulse — an old grudge, a new 
provocation, a quick strike, and then 
death. It was over. Perhaps we'll never 
know. 



Artifacts from Dr. Jones' Luzon expedition 
may be seen in cases 20 and 21, Hall A, on 
the ground floor ot the Museum. Thanks 
go to Mr. Christopher Legge, custodian 
ot collections, and Dr. Donald Collier, 
curator ot Middle and South American 
anthropology and ethnology, for their help 
in researching this article. 



Barbara Stoner is a member of the staff in 
the public relations office. Field Museum. 



BULLETIN SEPTEI^BER 1971 



13 




The Moths of America North of Mexico, 
including Greenland. Fascicle 21, 
Sphingoidea 

By Ronald W. Hodges. London: 

E. W. Classey & R.B.D. Publications, 1971. 

158 pp. $24.00. 

The first fascicle of the proposed 14 volumes 
of The Moths of America North of Mexico, 
including Greenland is now available. 
Hopefully, In a few years the monumental 
task will be complete. 

Aside from numerous articles and 
monographs dealing with restricted families, 
genera, and species, there has previously 
been only one general treatment of North 
American moths — The Moth Book, by W. J. 
Holland, published in 1905, long out of print, 
and only recently reprinted in paperback 
form. This included mostly common species 
and selected representatives of various 
families and genera. Although Holland's 
work was in itself an enormous undertaking, 
it was incomplete and quite difficult to use. 
But it was the only comprehensive work 
available. That is, until now. 

There are more than 10,000 species of moths 
in the fauna of America north of Mexico. 
Every species, as well as major polymorphic 
forms and subspecies will be illustrated in 
full color. But the series will be much more 
than merely a pictorial presentation. The text 
will consist of a synthesis of all revisionary 
studies up to the time of publication. New 
genera and species will be described. It 
will be in essence a revision of the moths of 
this region. Information on the biology, 
ecology, and distribution of the species will 
be included. The mere thought of such a 
comprehensive, definitive series boggles the 
mind. 

The Sphingoidea are the subject of this first 
unit of the series to be published. These 
moths are also known as Sphinx Moths, 
Hawk Moths, or Humming-bird Moths to 
name a few. These are medium-sized to 
large insects that frequent flowers at dusk 




or twilight. Most of them look a great deal 
like hummingbirds when they are feeding, 
since they hover in front of the flower and 
extend their proboscis deep into the 
blossom for nectar. The larvae are quite 
robust in shape and are voracious feeders. 
All of us who have grown tomatoes in the 
summer have probably encountered tomato 
hornworm larvae contentedly munching away 
on our plants. The name "hornworm" comes 
from the fact that most of the larvae have a 
conspicuous spinelike process or horn on the 
top part of the eighth abdominal segment. 

If this first fascicle of the series is 
representative of the volumes to follow, 
lepidopterists have a great deal in store for 
them. The treatment of the 115 species and 
40 genera of Sphingoidea by Dr. Hodges is 
excellent in all respects. The higher 
categories are given in outline form, with 
separate keys to the genera based upon 
adult, pupal, and lan/al forms. Keys to the 
species based upon the adults are given in 
the respective genera. In instances of sexual 
dimorphism, both sexes are delineated in 
the species keys. All species are illustrated 
in color photographs that have a very high 
degree of fidelity to the specimens. Although 
subspecies are figures in the plates, they are 
not delineated as such in the legends. It is 
necessary to turn to the text for a discussion 
of these forms. Key characters are illustrated 
for many of the species with line drawings. 
Technical terms are fully explained and 
illustrated in a section on structural features 
following the color plates. Many references 
to more specific works are given at the end 
of the work. In addition to the taxonomic 
treatment. Dr. Hodges gives information on 
the distribution of the species and their 
relative abundance, and in many cases lists 
known larval food plants. 

The work was designed for use by both the 
professional and the amateur entomologist, 
as is obvious from this brief account of its 
contents. But it is more than this alone. This 
fascicle on the Sphingoidea is a complete 
taxonomic revision of the group. There are 



seventeen name changes presented. Two 
new genera are created, one new species 
described, one genus is synonomized, and a 
total of twelve species are reassigned to 
their proper genera. This is somewhat 
amazing, since sphingids are some of the 
largest and most widely collected of the 
moths. The only criticism accompanying 
these taxonomic changes is the lack of any 
notation to this effect in the general section 
on classification, plate legends, or index. 
It is necessary to examine each page of the 
text to discover any nomenclatural changes. 
This is only a minor point and cannot detract 
from this magnificent work. It is merely a 
matter of style. 

It is difficult to avoid the use of superlatives 
in trying to describe the impact and 
significance of this series. Each fascicle will 
be a "must" for serious students of the 
subject, whether professional or amateur. 
Since each group of volumes will stand as 
a complete taxonomic unit, the cost of the 
entire series (almost $1,000) will not be a 
serious burden to the specialist desiring only 
a few of the volumes. It should also be 
pointed out that the plan of production of 
The Moths of America North of Mexico calls 
for the publication of three or four fascicles 
each year. Thus purchase of the entire 
series would be spread over a period of 
several years. This would make it quite 
feasible for many libraries to acquire the 
series, as indeed they should. 



by Dr. John Kethley, assistant curator, 
insects, Field Museum. 



14 



BULLETIN SEPTEMBER 1971 




New Curatorial Staff 

Two new curatorial appointments are 
announced for Field Museum's Department 
of Anthropology effective September 1 . 

Dr. Bennet Bronson, the new assistant 
curator of Asiatic archaeology and ethnology, 
received his doctorate from the University 
of Pennsylvania in June. He was field 
director of the University Museum/National 
Museum of Thailand Joint Archaeological 
Expedition, 1968 and 1969, and the 
University of Pennsylvania Archaeological 
Program in Ceylon, 1970. Dr. Bronson's 
field experience includes excavations in 
England, Guatemala, Turkey, Iran, Thailand, 
and Ceylon. 

Dr. John Terrell, who recently received his 
Ph.D. in anthropology from Harvard 
University, becomes assistant curator of 
Oceanic archaeology and ethnology. His 
doctoral research includes archaeological 
surveys and excavations on the island of 
Bougainville in the Solomons. Field research 
by Dr. Terrell includes excavations in 
England, France, Neo-lndian sites in the 
United States, New Zealand, the Tonga 
Islands, and Western Samoa. 



Geology Field Trips and Course in 
Natural History of Chicago Region 

Field Museum's Department of Education 
and the University of Chicago Extension 
are cooperatively offering this fall: 

Geology field trips September 25-26 to 
Galena, Illinois and environs and October 
16-17 to Baraboo Range and Devil's Lake, 
Wisconsin. Both will be conducted by 
Dr. Matthew H. Nitecki, associate curator 
in the Museum's Department of Geology. 

A course of four lectures and one panel 
discussion on the ecology of northeastern 
Illinois. October 11 Matthew H. Nitecki will 
explain how the geology of the region is 
responsible for the present flora and fauna 
and our economic growth and will discuss 
the future of the city. October 18 Floyd 



A. Swink, naturalist. Morton Arboretum, will 
show how the flora have changed 
profoundly because of man's activities. 
October 25 W. J. Beecher, director, Chicago 
Academy of Sciences, will compare the 
present ecology of the region with what it 
was before man disturbed it and with the 
ecology of other regions. November 8 
Loren P. Woods, curator of fishes, Field 
Museum, will discuss the change of Great 
Lakes fish and fishing because of man's 
intrusions. November 15 these four 
specialists will summarize how conservation 
measures can influence the ecological 
future of our region. 

Tuition for each field trip is $25 (or $45 
for both) and includes transportation on a 
chartered bus. Tuition for the course is 
$35. Museum Members are eligible for a 
10 percent discount for field trips and 
course. Call Mrs. Maria Matyas, University 
of Chicago Extension, Financial 6-8300, 
for further information and reservations. 

In Sympathy 

Carl W. Cotton, Museum taxidermist, died on 
July 5th after a five-month illness. He was 
53 years old. Mr. Cotton joined the Field 
Museum staff in September, 1947, as 
assistant taxidermist. He became taxidermist 
on January 1, 1952. Creative and versatile, 
Mr. Cotton was equally proficient with both 
birds and mammals. We extend our 
sympathies to his family. 

Nephew of Malvina Hoffman 
Visits Museum 



Collecting Fossils in Nepal 




Mrs, Edward Byron Smith (left), president of Field 
Museum's Women's Board, sliows Malvina Hoffman's 
sculpture "Tfie Cockflgtit" to guests of tionor: 
Malvina Hoffman's nepfiew Cfiarles M. Hoffman, his 
daughter Mary FIske, and Mrs. Hoffman. The 
occasion was a luncheon given by the Women's 
Board highlighting the life and works of Malvina 
Hoffman with a film program and presentation of an 
informal paper by Mrs. Frank Mayer. Field Museum's 
new permanent exhibit, "Portraits of Man," is a 
selected group of the famous sculptress' work. 




Dr. Eugene Richardson, curator of fossil 
Invertebrates, and Reeve Byron Waud examine a 
two-hundred-mllllon-year-old ammonite which 
Reeve donated to the Museum. 

Reeve Byron Waud, seven-year-old Museum 
Member and son of Mr. and Mrs. Cornelius 
Waud, recently donated a two-hundred- 
million-year-old fossil ammonite to the 
Museum. Reeve collected the fossil in the 
bed of the Kali Gandaki River between 
Sikung and Larjung in Western Nepal while 
on a 300-mile walking trip through Nepal 
last March with his parents, his grandparents 
Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence Reeve, and eight 
Reeve children. 

The fossil was one of over thirty collected 
by Reeve on the trip. "It was hard carrying 
them," says Reeve, whose total collection 
weighs over ten pounds. "I picked up as 
many fossils as I could carry in a day. 
Usually, I had to carry them in my hat." 

A newcomer to rock hound circles, Reeve 
says he is going to continue collecting 
fossils now. "If I was just going to keep the 
fossils," commented Reeve, "I don't see 
much use in them. But using these to start 
a collection, there is quite a use. You can 
look up and learn things from them. You 
can learn what kind of things were living 
millions and millions of years ago." 

"Dr. Richardson [curator of fossil 
invertebrates] showed me many drawers of 
ammonites from the Museum's collection," 
said Reeve, "but we did not find any other 
one exactly like mine," which Reeve 
considers one of his "best fossils." "I 
thought the Museum should have it," said 
Reeve, "because it is one of the best 
places I know of for it." 

Before leaving the Museum, Reeve talked 
with Dr. Matthew Nitecki, associate curator 
of fossil invertebrates, and Dr. John Clark, 
associate curator of sedimentary petrology, 
about his fossil find and about Nepal. 



BULLETIN SEPTEMBER 1971 



IS 




Members' children (or grandchildren) are 
invited to participate in the Saturday 
workshops that have become highly popular 
fall events at Field Museum. The workshops 
were originated eight years ago by the 
Raymond Foundation to stimulate interest in 
natural history through small-group 
instruction on a variety of topics that appeal 
to children of different age groups. They 
offer the children opportunity to get 
acquainted with our staff members and to 
work with actual specimens from the 
Museum's scientific collections. The 
programs last about one hour for younger 
children and about one and a half hours for 
older ones. Extra time should be allowed if 
the children bring specimens of their own 
for identification. 

Reservations are necessary, and we urge 
that they be sent in early. The size of each 
session is limited, and applications will be 
accepted in the order in which they are 
received. A child can be scheduled into one 
program only. Please send a separate 
application for each child in your family who 
wishes to participate. Accepted applicants 
will be sent a confirmation card that will 
admit them to the workshop. 



All workshops begin at 10:30 a.m. 

October 2 For ages 7-9 
Eskimo Seal Hunt 

Edith Fleming, Leader 

After viewing the film Angote, which shows 
the life of an Eskimo boy from the time he 
is a baby until he is old enough to go on 
his first seal hunt, boys and girls see and 
handle real hunting equipment used by 
Eskimos: weapons, goggles to protect the 
eyes from the sun's glare, and clothing 
designed to keep out the Arctic cold. 
Finally, in Museum exhibits, the children 
seek out the seal in its native habitat, and 
learn more about the problems of the hunt. 

October 9 For ages 9-1 1 
Picture Stories — Plains Indian Style 

Harriet Smith, Leader 

Children learn the importance of animals and 
of story-telling by means of pictures in the 
lives of our western tribes, by viewing a film 
and examining actual decorated objects 
made by Plains Indians. They have the 
opportunity to draw either their own 
picture-story of a "happening" on a 
miniature tipi cover or their own dream of 
the future on a (paper) shield, using Indian 
symbols. 



October 16 For ages 6-8 
Boneyard Menagerie 

Ernest Roscoe, Leader 

Some "family" secrets are revealed in this 
session as the boys and girls discover and 
discuss prehistoric relatives of familiar 
animals found in zoos and aquaria. Children 
should be accompanied by at least one 
parent. Be prepared for a few surprises! 



Application for Fall Workshops 

Program 



Date 



2nd choice 



4th choice 



Membership in name of 

Cut along dotted line and nnail to: Raymond Foundation, Field Museum of Natural History, 
Roosevelt Road at Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, Illinois 60605 



October 23 For ages 9-13 
African Drums and IMasks 

Edith Fleming, Leader 

Some original African art and music are 
examined and then used as inspiration for 
the boys and girls to create their own. 
African masks stimulate them to make their 
own designs with colorful materials, such as 
seeds and beads. A tape of African drum 
music recorded in Ghana serves to inspire 
them to try playing African rhylhms on real 
African instruments. 



October 30 For ages 6-8 
Boneyard Menagerie (repeat) 
Ernest Roscoe, Leader 

See description for October 16. 



November 6 For ages 9-13 
African Drums and Masks (repeat) 
Edith Fleming, Leader 

See description for October 23. 



November 13 For ages 9-13 

A Half-Billion Years of Chicago History 

Ernest Roscoe, Leader 

Boys and girls learn the history of the 
Chicago area as it has been deciphered 
from study of the rocks and fossils of our 
region. They examine actual specimens of 
many of the prehistoric plants and animals 
we can all collect ourselves. Parents are 
invited to attend. 



November 20 For ages 12-15 
Animal Art of the "Totem Pole" Indians 

Harriet Smith, Leader 

A film that illustrates the totemic art of the 
Northwest Coast Indians plus several actual 
examples of the art demonstrate the close 
relationship these people feel with certain 
animals prominent in their mythology. Each 
participant then explains why he chooses a 
specific animal as his totem and stylizes it 
into symbolic designs he paints on a storage 
box for himself. 



16 



BULLETIN SEPTEMBER 1971 



CALENDAR 



Tnistaet of Field Museum 

Harry 0. Bercher 
Bowen Blair 

William McCormick Blair 
William R. Dickinson, Jr. 
Thomas E. Donnelley II 
Marshall Field 
Nicholas Galitzine 
Paul W. Goodrich 
Remick McDowell 
Hugo J. Melvoin 
J. Roscoe Miller 
William H. Mitchell 
Charles F. Murphy, Jr. 
Harry M. Oliver, Jr. 

Life Trusteoi 

Joseph N. Field 
Clifford C. Gregg 
Samuel Insull, Jr. 
William V. Kahler 



John T. Pirie, Jr. 
John S. Runnells 
William L. Searle 
John M. Simpson 
Edward Byron Smith 
Mrs. Edward Byron Smith 
Mrs. Mermen Dunlap Smith 
John W. Sullivan 
William G. Swartchild, Jr. 
E. Leiand Webber 
Julian B. Wilkins 
J. Howard Wood 
Blaine J. Yarrington 



Hughston M. McBain 
James L. Palmer 
John G. Searle 
Louis Ware 



Do We Have Your Name and Address 
Correct? 

Beginning in October, the Bulletin will be 
mailed by a new system. If your name is 
misspelled or your address is incorrect or 
if you do not receive your October issue by 
October 10, please contact the Membership 
Office. We need your help in order to 
correct any errors which may occur in the 
changeover period from the old to the new 
system. 



Plan Ahead 

Visits to Field Museum earlier in the day are 
recommended for Sundays this fall when the 
Chicago Bears play home games in Soldier 
Field. 

Since the Southeast parking facilities will be 
filled, the North lot reserved for Museum 
visitors will undoubtedly be strained to 
capacity during the afternoon games. 

Dates to remember are September 12 and 
19, October 10 and 31, November 7, 14 and 
21, and December 19. 



Hours 

9 a.m. to 6 p.m. Monday. Tuesday, and Thursday, 
and 9 a.m. to 9 p.m. Wednesday, Friday, Saturday, 
and Sunday until Labor Day. 

Beginning September 7, hours are 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. 
daily, Saturday through Thursday. Special Friday 
hours are 9 a.m. to 9 p.m. 

The Museum Library is open 9 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. 
Monday through Friday. 



Exhibits 

Through September 6 
Deerskin Jacket with painted decoration 
depicting warriors on horseback, displayed 
in the North Lounge. A recent gift of 
Mrs. Richard D. Stevenson, the jacket was 
collected by her grandfather. Carter H. 
Harrison III, in the early part of this century 
from the Sioux, probably of the Pine Ridge 
Agency. 

Begins September 7 

Rare Ancient Numismatic Collection, a 

highly important group of seven silver 
Greek coins from the archaic and finest 
periods, and two Roman medallions dating 
from the third and fourth centuries A.D., 
displayed in the South Lounge through 
November 7. The coins and medallions are 
part of a collection donated to Field Museum 
by Jon Holtzman of Madison, Wisconsin, 
and Paul Holtzman of Las Vegas, Nevada. 

Continuing 

Color in Nature, an exhibit examining the 
nature and variety of color in the physical 
and living world, and how it functions in 
plants and animals. It focuses on the many 
roles of color, as in mimicry, camouflage, 
warning, sexual recognition and selection, 
energy channeling, and vitamin production, 
using Museum specimens as examples. 
Through November 28. Hall 25. 

The Afro-American Style, From the Design 
Works of Bedford-Stuyvesant, an exhibit of 
textiles blending classical African motifs and 
contemporary design. The original Field 
Museum Benin artifacts which inspired 
many of the designs are also shown. 
Financial assistance for the exhibit was 
received from the CNA Foundation, Chicago, 
and the Illinois Arts Council, a state agency. 
Through December 31. Hall 9. 

John James Audubon's elephant folio. The 
Birds ot America, on display in the North 
Lounge. A different plate from the rare, 
first-edition volumes is featured each day. 

Field Museum's 75th Anniversary Exhibit 

continues indefinitely. "A Sense of Wonder" 
offers thought-provoking prose and poetry 
associated with physical, biological, and 
cultural aspects of nature; "A Sense of 
History" presents a graphic portrayal of 
the Museum's past, and "A Sense of 
Discovery" shows examples of research 
conducted by Museum scientists. Hall 3. 



Children's Programs 

Begins September 1 

"Between the Tides," Fall Journey for 
Children, takes them shell hunting for exotic 
and beautiful specimens in the Museum 
exhibit areas. All youngsters who can read 
and write are welcome to join in the 
activity. Journey sheets are available at 
Museum entrances. Through November 30. 



Film and Tour Program 

Through September 3 

Free Guided Tour of Field Museum exhibit 
areas leaves from the North information 
booth at 2 p.m. Monday through Friday. 
A color motion picture, "Through These 
Doors," focusing on behind-the-scenes 
activities at the Museum, is shown at 3 p.m. 
in the Lecture Hall, following the tour. 

Continuing 

Free Natural History Film "Patterns for 
Survival" (A Study of Mimicry) presented at 
11 a.m. and 1 p.m. on Saturday, and 11 
a.m., 1 p.m., and 3 p.m. on Sunday in the 
second floor Meeting Room. The half-hour 
film offers an overall view of protective 
coloration in insects and provides visitors 
with an insight into the "Color in Nature" 
exhibit. Through November 28. 



Meetings 

September 8: 7 p.m., Chicago 
Ornithological Society 

September 8: 7:30 p.m.. Windy City Grotto, 
National Speleological Society 

September 12: 2 p.m., Chicago Shell Club 

September 14: 7:45 p.m., Nature Camera 
Club of Chicago 

September 14: 8 p.m., Chicagoland Glider 
Council 

September 19: 2 p.m., Illinois Orchid 
Society 



Coming in October 

Fall Film Lecture Series, 2:30 p.m. 
Saturdays in the James Simpson Theatre. 

October 2: "Botswana," narrated by 
Roy Coy. 

October 9: "Railroads are Fun," narrated 
by Thayer Soule. 

October 16: "Norse Adventure," narrated 
by Hjordis Kittel Parker. 

October 23: "Our Glorious National Parks," 
narrated by Edward M. Brigham, Jr. 

October 30: "Ecuador & Darwin's 
Galapagos," narrated by Hugh Hope. 



Volume 42, Number 9 



October 1971 



Field Museum of Natural History 



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Cover: Modernization and renovation of Field 
Museum's building are the purposes for which 
the Museum has launched a $25,000,000 Capital 
Campaign, the first in its sevenly-eight-year 
history. 



BULLETIN 

Volume 42, Number 9 
October 1971 



(2 About Field Museum 

Joyce Zibro 

the unique purpose and function of Field Museum as told 

in a brief history of the Museum, 1893 - 1971 

(Tlviore About Field Museum, or Why We Need $25,000,000 

Elizabeth Munger 

what's behind the first capital campaign in the 

seventy-eight-year history of Field Museum 

16 Notes From Underground 

Harry G. Nelson 

everything you always wanted to l<now about earthworms 

and more 

20 Migrations 

Melvin A. Traylor 

the more one learns about bird migrations, the more one 

is impressed by the amazing diversity of patterns 

22 Before Credit Cards 

Elizabeth Munger 

several important ancient Greek coins recently donated 
to the Museum provide a jumping-off point for a 
discussion of early Western-world coinage 

24 Field Briefs 

Calendar 



Field Museum of Natural History 
Director, E. Leiand Webber 

Editor Joyce Zibro; Associate Editor Elizabeth Munger; 
Fred Huysmans. 



Staff Writer Madge Jacobs; Production Russ Becker; Photograptiy John Bayalls, 



The Bulletin is published monthly except August by Field Museum of Natural History, Roosevelt Road at Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, Illinois 
60605. Subscriptions: $9 a year; $3 a year for schools. Members of the Museum subscribe through Museum membership. Opinions expressed 
by authors are their own and do not necessarily reflect the policy of Field Museum. Unsolicited manuscripts are welcome. Application to mail 
at second-class postage rates is pending at Chicago, Illinois. Postmaster: Please send form 3579 to Field Museum of Natural History. 
Roosevelt Road at Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, Illinois 60605. 



BULLETIN OCTOBER 1971 



About Field Museum Joyce zibro 




Museum staff in 1909. Photograpfi taken upon ttie occasion of the visit of Commissioners Wada and Sal<ai of tfie Japanese Exposition. First row, left to rigtit, 
Commissioner Wada^ Frederick J. V. Skiff, director 1884-1921; Commissioner Sakai. Second row, Patrick Bropfiy, guard, 1894-1923; Charles B. Cory, Zoology, 
1906-1921; George A. Dorsey, Anthropology, 1896-1915; unidentified member of the Japanese delegation; Miss Elsie LIppincott, library, 1897-1930; Oliver C. 
Farrington, Geology, 1894-1933; Charles F. Millspaugh, Botany, 1893-1923; Richard N. Abbey, guard, 1908-1938. Third row, Jesse M. Greenman, Botany, 1905-1912; 
William J. Gerhard, Zoology, 1901-1950; David C. Davies successively served as accountant, recorder, auditor, and director, 1894-1928; Carl E. Akeley, taxidermist, 
1896-1909; Edmund N. Gueret, Zoology, 1900-1940. Fourtli row, Henry W. Nichols. Geology, 1894-1944; Elmer S. Riggs, Geology, 1898-1942; Albert B. Lewis. 
Anthropology, 1907-1940. Top row, Arthur W. Slocum, Geology, 1901-1914. 



BULLETIN OCTOBER 1971 



In his autobiography, Harlow Shapley, 
the famous astronomer of Harvard 
University, wrote concerning his early 
career, "I realized that I could do 
things other people could not or would 
not do, and therefore I was useful." 

Dr. Alan Solem, curator of invertebrates 
at Field Museum, applying this 
statement to natural history museums, 
asked in the December 1970 issue of 
this magazine, "What can a natural 
history museum do that other 
institutions cannot or will not? Where 
can we be useful? . . . What are the 
unique aspects of Field l^useum as an 
institution?" 

Dr. Solem answered these questions 
this way: 

Collections, library, trained staff. Our 
collections of natural history and 
ethnographic objects bring scientists and 
students from all parts of the world to study 
in Chicago and are utilized on a loan basis 
by scholars in every continent except 
Antarctica. Our library is equally fine. Our 
staff of scientists and technicians makes use 
of these collections and library resources on 
a daily basis. Their work cannot be done at 
an Institution without these facilities. Only 
natural history museums provide them. 
Universities do not, businesses cannot, only 
museums can. 

Sometimes our research involves 
immediately relevant problems — medically 
important ectoparasites of Venezuela or a 
forest resource survey of Amazonian Peru. 
Usually we work on basic problems whose 
practical applications may be decades away 
or undreamt of at the time of study. 

But this Is not an attempt to justify the 
research and collection activities of Field 
Museum. Our acknowledged function is not 
just to discover, collect and correlate 
knowledge, but also to disseminate 
knowledge. This can be through technical 
literature, through popular writing, but more 
directly through the parts of the Museum 
used by the public — the exhibition halls, the 
school programs, the public lectures, the 
traveling school exhibits, and university level 
teaching ... No one else has the variety of 
nature and man's work, no one else can 
show it. 

Dr. Solem goes on to suggest, however, 
that while discovery, collection, and 
dissemination of knowledge are and 
should remain prime functions of the 
Museum, this is not enough. Field 



Museum can be useful to society in 
other unique ways. One such unique 
capability and possibility for Field 
Museum to further serve society, he 
suggests, is in the interpretation of the 
ecology of the earth. "We can show, in 
environmental exhibits," he says, "how 
the world functions. How it is based on 
energy from the sun, converted by 
plants and either used immediately or 
stored for future use. We can show 
with our cultural objects and natural 
history specimens how climate, soil, 
water and topography limit the 
activities and abundance of all species, 
including man . . . These are things 
we can do better than others and be 
useful to society." 

In this day when more and more 
demands are being made on museums 
in general and Field Museum in 
particular to serve an ever-increasing 
and better-educated public, it is 
perhaps appropriate to review how this 
great permanent treasure of useful 
things and knowledge which is Field 
Museum came to be established in 
Chicago and how it grew to become 
one of the four greatest natural history 
museums in the world. 

It is of course the story of people, the 
human element, which made Field 
Museum the great institution it is today. 

"The human element is the only force 
which is, in the last instant, responsible 
for the combination of forces which 
made Chicago not only large, but 
great," wrote J. Christian Bay 
(Librarian of John Crerar Library) back 
in 1929. "Anybody who scans the lists 
of residents of our early days will stop 
again and again at names, each of 
which signifies some important 
departure in the city's life, some great 
and generous act or some small 
beginning of things that grew 
significant in time." 

The idea of a great permanent 
museum for Chicago was neither 
suddenly born nor quickly realized. 
That idea developed from 1890 onward 
together with plans for the World's 



Columbian Exposition held in Chicago 
in 1893 to celebrate the four hundredth 
anniversary of the landing of Columbus 
in America. 

The first published suggestion that a 
permanent natural history museum be 
formed as a result of the Exposition 
was an article by Frederic W. Putnam 
in the Chicago Tribune of May 31 , 

1890. Putnam was curator of the 
Peabody Museum and professor of 
anthropology at Harvard University and 
served as chief of the Department of 
Ethnology and Archaeology at the 
Exposition. He successfully brought 
together the most extensive 
anthropology exhibit of its kind ever 
assembled, and was also responsible 
for most of the natural history exhibits 
at the fair. He advocated that these 
collections and exhibits should be kept 
together to form the nucleus of a great 
natural history museum. In November 

1891, in an address to the Commercial 
Club of Chicago, he outlined the 
administrative organization of the 
proposed museum, the organization 
and activities of its scientific 
departments (anthropology, botany, 
geology, and zoology), and the nature 
of its exhibits. These proposals were 
to become the blueprint of the future 
museum. 

Putnam's views were shared by many 
leading citizens, including Edward E. 
Ayer, Norman Ream, and James 
Ellsworth. The interest of Chicagoans 
was aroused and in a public meeting 
held on August 7, 1893, and attended 
by about one hundred leading citizens, 
a committee was appointed "to adopt 
measures to establish in Chicago a 
great museum that shall be a fitting 
memorial of the World's Columbian 
Exposition and a permanent advantage 
and honor to the city." 

A charter was obtained on September 
16, 1893 under the title Columbian 
Museum of Chicago, with sixty-five 
citizens as incorporators and fifteen 
as trustees. 

Officials of the Exposition who had 
become actively interested in the plan 



BULLETIN OCTOBER 1971 



Prince Frederick and Princess Ingrid of Denmark 
and Iceland visit the Museum on April 25, 1939. 



ior the museum solicited and procured 
from exhibitors gifts and transfer of 
desirable exhibits. Meanwhile, 
enthusiastic sponsors of the museum 
instituted a campaign to raise funds. 
But the country-wide financial 
stringency which developed to 
alarming proportions in 1894 was 
already beginning to be felt, and by 
the middle of October, in the words of 
the Museum's first director, Frederick 
J. V. Skiff, "A period of 
discouragement came upon those at 
work for the Museum. Nothing but the 
faith, devotion, and courage of a few 
men prevented the disintegration of the 
preliminary organization and the 
practical abandonment of the Museum 
enterprise." 

Marshall Field, probably the richest 
man in Chicago, had been approached 
several times to give one million 
dollars. He always responded, "I don't 
know anything about a museum and I 
don't care to know anything about a 
museum. I'm not going to give you a 
million dollars." Edward E. Ayer, who 
was to become the first president of 
the Museum, made one last attempt to 
persuade Field to change his mind as 
the closing time for the Exposition 
approached in late October. "You have 
an opportunity here," he told Field, 
"that has been vouchsafed to very few 
people on earth. From the point of 
view of natural history you have the 
privilege of being the educational host 
of the untold millions of people who 
will follow us in the Mississippi Valley. 
There is practically no museum of 
any kind within five hundred miles; and 
these children who are growing up in 
the region by hundreds of thousands 
haven't the remotest opportunity of 
learning about the ordinary things they 
see and talk about and hear about 
every day of their lives. . . ." 

This time Field agreed to go through 
the Exposition with Ayer before saying 
no. On October 26, the day following 
his visit to the Exposition, Field 
announced he would donate one million 
dollars to start a museum. As a single 




gift ioi museum purposes it shattered 
all precedents and ensured the 
establishment and permanence of the 
Museum. Other early benefactors of 
the Museum included George M. 
Pullman and Harlow Higinbotham, who 
each gave $100,000, Mrs. Mary D. 
Sturges, who contributed $50,000, and 
Tiffany and Company, McCormick 
Estate, and many others who gave 
$10,000. 

On November 1 the finance committee 
sent a circular to Exposition 
stockholders repeating an appeal made 
in the Chicago Evening Post of 
September 14 for the donation of 
Exposition stock to the fund for a 
museum. 1,100 stockholders came 
forth to donate stock from which the 
Museum ultimately realized $193,000. 

In honor of the man who had made 
the dream of a permanent natural 
history museum in Chicago possible, 
the name was changed in 1894 to 
Field Columbian Museum, and finally, 
after several other changes, to Field 
Museum of Natural History in 1966. 
Permanent honor is thus given to the 
Field family, which has been 
extraordinarily generous to the Museum 
throughout the years, and particularly 
to Stanley Field, a nephew of Marshall 
Field, for more than fifty years 



(1908-1964) president and chairman of 
the board. 

Marshall Field enjoyed the Museum 
very much during his lifetime and 
made contributions estimated at 
$430,000 toward current operating 
expenses. On his death in January 
1906, he bequeathed a further sum of 
$8,000,000, of which $4,000,000 was 
allotted toward the erection of the 
present building and $4,000,000 toward 
endowment which to this day helps to 
sustain the activities of the Museum. 

Large and important collections and 
exhibits that had been shown at the 
Exposition were purchased. Such 
purchases included the Ward natural 
history collection, the Tiffany collection 
of gems, the Restrepo collection of 
pre-Hispanic gold ornaments from 
Columbia, the Montez archaeological 
collection from Cuzco, Peru, the 
Hassler ethnological collection from 
Paraguay, collections representing 
Javanese, Samoan, and Peruvian 
ethnology, and the Hagenbeck 
collection of about 600 ethnological 
objects from Africa, the South Sea 
Islands, British Columbia, and other 
areas. 

In addition, collections and exhibits of 
great value were received as donations 
in large numbers. Edward E. Ayer 
donated his extensive anthropological 
collection of North American Indian 
material. Special collections made by 
the Department of Mines, Mining and 
Metallurgy of the Exposition were 
donated, together with the exhibition 
cases, and from the Agriculture, 
Forestry and Manufactures Departments 
of the Exposition, collections of 
timbers, oils, gums, resins, fibers, fruits, 
seeds, and grains were contributed 
in so large a quantity and variety as to 
insure for the first time in any general 
natural history museum the formation 
of an adequate department of botany. 

The Palace of Fine Arts building (now 
housing the Museum of Science and 
Industry) of the Exposition was 
obtained at the close of the Exposition 



BULLETIN OCTOBER 1971 



Left, the original N. W. Harris Extension truck at 
ttie Museum's first home in Jacltson Parl(. Right, 
Harris Extension driver Gerald Hardison loads some 
travelling exhibits In the present-day truck. 




as a temporary repository and became 
the first home of the Museum. 

By June of 1894, with the help of 
experts from the Exposition staff and 
individuals with museum training from 
other institutions, the installation of 
exhibits in the Museum was sufficiently 
advanced to permit opening the doors 
to the public. On the afternoon of 
Saturday, June 2, 1894, between eight 
and ten thousand persons assembled 
at the north steps of the institution in 
Jackson Park to witness the opening 
ceremonies. 

The Times of June 3 reported the 
opening like this: 

It was all like a memory of the fair. There 
were the hurrying expectant crowds of 
people, there were the many flags and the 
orators, there was the noble art palace itself, 
the most beautiful of the wonder houses of 
the white city and the only one untouched 
by the wrecker, every object within its 
mazes a memento of the day when the 
world looked toward Jackson park. 

So Chicago has what will be the greatest of 
all museums, an institution magnificently 
endowed by the liberality of its own citizens, 
a permanent memorial of the glories of the 
summer of '93. 

On the day following the opening of 
the Museum, some 16,000 people 
flocked to see the great collections 



and unique treasures of the Exposition 
that were to be permanently preserved 
in Chicago. 

During that first year, the main lines of 
future activities were established. 
Curators were appointed to the various 
departments and as early as October 
expeditions and field work to expand 
the collections, to fill in the gaps, were 
organized. A series of popular 
illustrated lectures was instituted on 
Saturday afternoons from December to 
May. These lectures continue today as 
the free Edward E. Ayer Lecture 
Series, in fall (October and November) 
and spring (April and May), each of 
which usually fills the James Simpson 
Theatre to its capacity of 1 ,000. 

The Library was organized as early as 
March 1894, with 1,390 titles from the 
Department of Ethnology, and 350 
titles from the Department of Mines 
and Mining of the Exposition. Before 
the year was out the Kunz collection 
of books on geology, gems and 
metallurgy, and the Cory collection on 
ornithology (consisting of 587 volumes) 
were purchased, and the fine 
ornithological library of Edward E. Ayer 
was added as a gift. The Museum's 
exchange program with other 



institutions began about this time, and 
has provided the bulk of the Library 
holdings. Today, the Library contains 
1 75,000 volumes, many of them rare 
and priceless, all of them important to 
scientists, students, and researchers in 
the field of natural history. 

Plans for Museum publications were 
inaugurated, the decision being to 
confine them to scientific and technical 
subjects, especially as related to 
Museum exhibits and collections. The 
first of the more than 1,100 issues of 
Fieldiana, as the continuing series of 
scientific papers and monographs 
dealing with anthropology, botany, 
geology, and zoology came to be 
named, appeared in 1895. 

A system of memberships was 
instituted and privileges were 
established for members similar to 
those existing today. During that first 
year 723 members were enrolled, an 
encouraging indication that the 
continued support of the citizens of 
Chicago could be counted on. Today 
membership numbers over 21,000, a 
figure which has doubled in the past 
five years. 

From the beginning it was desired to 
extend the advantages of the Museum 



BULLETIN OCTOBER 1971 



A few members of tfie scientific staff today. Lett column, top to bottom, Mr. Hymen Marx (left), associate 
curator of reptiles and amphibians (witfi Marx is Stiedd Aquarium Director William Braker): Dr. James W. 
VanStone, chairman, Department of Anthropology: Dr. Phillip H. Lewis, curator of primitive art and 
Melanesian ethnology; Dr. John B. Kethley, assistant curator of insects. Center column, top, Dr. John Clark, 
associate curator of sedimentary petrology; bottom, Or. Edward Olsen, curator of mineralogy. Right column, 
top to bottom. Dr. Eugene Richardson, curator of fossil invertebrates; Dr. Louis O. Williams, chairman, 
Department of Botany; Mr. Henry Dybas, associate curator of insects; Dr. Emmet R. Blake, curator of birds. 



to all school children by providing free 
admission at all times and lectures by 
Museum staff. In 1925, Mrs. James 
Nelson Raymond became interested in 
the work for children in the Museum 
and provided an endowment to 
develop and broaden the guide-lecture 
program started in 1922. The 
guide-lecture division of what was to 
become the Department of Education 
was named in honor of her and her 
husband, the James Nelson and Anna 
Louise Raymond Foundation for Public 
School and Children's Lectures. The 
Raymond Foundation grew rapidly, 
adding staff and new programs until 
today the seven-member staff, aided 
by 27 volunteers, provides guided 
tours and classroom instruction in the 
Museum to over 100,000 school 
children each year, offers children's 
workshops in the fall, an anthropology 
course for high ability students in 
the summer, free children's movies, 
and many other programs. In all, over 
400,000 school children now visit 
the Museum in organized groups in 
each year. 

The other division of the Department 
of Education, the N. W. Harris Public 
School Extension, dates from 1911 
when Norman Wait Harris gave the 
fund which made possible loan service 
to schools of traveling exhibits. Today 
over 1 ,000 traveling exhibits are 
circulated annually to over 600 
Chicago schools, hospitals, and 
community centers through the Harris 
Extension. 

The early years were a period of 
growth, organization, and consolidation. 
Acquisition of one important collection 
after the other occurred by expedition, 
purchase, or contribution. In 1909 an 
important line of work in the 
Department of Botany was inaugurated 
in the establishment of facilities for 
modeling plants, flowers, and fruits in 
natural colors and permanent form. 
Frank Boryca, who has been making 
plant models since joining the staff in 
1941, is well known for his expertise 
by members of the Museum who flock 
to see demonstrations of this craft on 



the annual Members' Night. 

Long before meteorites became of 
popular interest the Museum was 
collecting and studying them. 1913 
saw the acquisition of the 
Ward-Coonley collection of meteorites, 
then the largest private collection of 
these celestial bodies in existence. 
This, combined with other purchases, 
exchanges, and collections, and most 
recently with the acquisition of over 
75 percent of the Murchison Meteorite 
which fell in Australia in late 1969, 
make Field Museum's collection one 
of the three most important meteorite 
collections in the United States. Dr. 
Edward Olsen, curator of mineralogy, 
who does research work on the 
meteorites, feels they may ultimately 
give us a clue to the origin of the 
solar system and to the existence of 
life in other parts of space. 

The Department of Zoology from the 
earliest years acquired zoological 
research collections which now rank 
among the most important and largest 
in the world. The Museum's collection 
of birds, which numbers over 300,000, 
will make possible the preparation for 
posterity of the Manual of Neotropical 
Birds, a monumental work now being 
written by the Museum's curator of 
birds, Dr. Emmet Blake. When 
completed, the Manual will provide for 
the first time and under one cover, 
taxonomic information, descriptions, 
appropriate keys, and the distribution 
of more than 3,200 species and over 
8,500 races or subspecies of Central 
and South American birds and will 
have great potential applied value in 
the field of tropical medical research. 

The period 1896 to 1915, under the 
leadership of Dr. George Dorsey, who 
served as chief curator of the 
Department of Anthropology, was an 
era of tremendous collection of 
anthropological materials which cannot 
now be duplicated. It is to Dr. Berthold 
Laufer, who succeeded Dr. Dorsey in 
1915 and headed the department until 
his death in 1934, that the Museum 



owes fame as a repository of one of 
the most extensive and valuable 
Oriental collections in the world. 
Dr. Laufer understood more about the 
peoples of China and Tibet than 
perhaps any other man of his time. 
Under Laufer's leadership the 
department became distinguished for 
scholarship and research, and more 
scientific papers were published 
during his nineteen years as head of 
the department than ever before. An 
obituary article on Dr. Laufer in the 
October 1934 issue of this magazine 
paid this tribute to a great man of 
science: 

From the vast depths of his esoteric 
knowledge he upset, with quaint narratives 
and facts gleaned from little-known sources, 
many a set of smug notions of a too 
self-satisfied generation. To a world in 
which knowledge of aviation generally dated 
little further back than the Wright brothers, 
he showed that flying had been thought of 
and attempted for centuries in China, Persia, 
and elsewhere, and was able to write an 
entire volume on the subject. The idea of 
television, still awaiting perfection by modern 
engineers, he proved had germinated 
centuries ago in Oriental minds. 

From 1918 to 1921, the efforts of the 
entire staff were devoted to packing 
the collections and preparing them 
for transfer to the Museum's new and 
permanent home in Grant Park. The 
beautiful structure of white Georgian 
marble, inspired by the Erechtheum, a 
temple in Athens which is recognized 
as the finest of the Ionic order that has 
been preserved from ancient times, 
was built over a five-year period at a 
cost of $7,136,866. The difference 
between the total cost of the building 
and Marshall Field's bequest of 
$4,000,000, plus its accretions during 
the years from 1906 to 1920, amounted 
to approximately $828,000. This sum 
was made available by gifts. 

The present building opened on May 
2, 1921. Three days before, Carl 
Sandburg wrote in an article in the 
Da/7y News titled "World Wonders are 
in Field Museum": 

The navy recruiting slogan for young men is 
"See the World." An older admonition is, 
"See Rome and Die." But the one heard 



BULLETIN OCTOBER 1971 



Dr. Robert F. Inger and Mrs. Inger record frog calls In the Congo In 1960. Dr. Inger was Curator of Reptiles 
In tlie Museum's Department of Zoology when this photo was taken. He Is now Chairman of Scientific Programs. 



most often in this country in recent years is, 
"See America first." Before starting, 
however, to see either the world or Rome 
or America first, a few good long trips 
around the Field Museum are worthwhile. 
The Museum has a number of specimens 
and articles rather difficult to find even in 
a trip around the world. Also there are a few 
bits of paraphernalia not to be found 
anywhere in the whatsoever rambles a 
tourist might choose to mai<e between the 
equator and either of the poles. 

John R. Millar, former deputy director 
of Field Museum and former chief 
curator of botany and now retired and 
a volunteer in the care of the 
economic collections in the Department 
of Botany (he joined the Museum staff 
in 1918), gave this account of the 50 
years in the present building (June 
1971 Bulletin, "Forward and Backward 
Glances"): 

But almost as soon as the spacious building 
was occupied, things placed according to 
plan, and the Museum once more open to 
visitors, a new and vigorous growth began 
lil<e that of a seedling in spring. There 
ensued a period of unusually active field 
and expeditionary work in all departments 
made possible by an enlarged scientific and 
preparatory staff and the generous financial 
support of a number of individuals, 
especially Mr. Stanley Field, president, Mr. 
Marshall Field III, and other trustees of the 
Museum. Central and South America, Africa 
and Asia, as well as various areas of the 
United States and subarctic Canada were the 
locale of numerous expeditions that resulted 
in large scientific collections as well as 
studies and specimens for exhibition. With 
this impetus an accelerated program in all 
manner of Museum activities followed — 
research, publications of scientific reports, 
exhibitions and education — that continues 
to the present. 

To tell the entire story of Field Museum 
would fill volumes. Many of the exhibits 
for which the Museum is world famous 
can only be mentioned in passing: 
such as dioramas of Stone Age man; 
seven halls covering the history and 
cultures of the Indians of the Americas; 
the world's finest hall of reptiles and 
amphibians made possible by 
techniques of mounting developed at 
Field Museum; the lifelike murals of 
prehistoric animals painted by Charles 
R. Knight; the hall of fossil vertebrates 
featuring the 72-toot Brontosaurus 
skeleton; the hall of plant life; the great 




display of Melanesian Art; the 
construction of the coal age forest of 
240 million years ago; the sculptures of 
Malvina Hoffman; habitat groups of 
animals in naturalistic settings equal 
to the best that can be seen anywhere; 
the exhibit of Benin bronzes from 
Nigeria; a rare, first edition copy of 
John James Audubon's The Birds of 
America; the great collection of 
Chinese jade. The names of the famous 
scientists who have devoted a lifetime 
to the collections and research efforts 
of the Museum, the trustees, presidents 
and directors, and private individuals 
who have donated time, money, and 
great collections to the Museum, 
would fill many pages. 

Even though we have over ten million 
specimens in our collections, less than 
one percent of which are on display, we 
are still collecting, filling in the gaps. 
The Botany Department, for example, 
which has one of the largest 
collections in North America and the 
finest in the world on tropical America, 
estimates it will take another 25 years 
before all the flora of Latin America are 
described and published for the benefit 
of generations to come. The demands 
on the Department of Education are 



increasing rapidly, and some way will 
have to be found to enable those 
demands to be met. Required will be 
additional staff, new classrooms, ramps 
for school buses, additional programs. 
This fifty-year-old building must be 
repaired and modernized to 
accommodate the millions of visitors to 
come in the 1970s and after. We must 
provide them with adequate cafeteria 
and rest room facilities and escalators. 

Our Department of Exhibition, which 
has been responsible for the beautiful 
display and graphic techniques 
applauded in such exhibitions as the 
Fiesta Mexicana in 1969 or Color in 
Nature in 1971 or the continuing 75th 
Anniversary Exhibit, is anxious to 
modernize many of the halls which 
have not been touched for decades. 

Millar called Field Museum a living 
museum. "A living museum is never 
finished," he said. "It serves its 
community and the natural sciences as 
no other social institution can and to 
continue this service is the purpose 
and function of Field Museum of 
Natural History." 

Joyce Zibro is editor of the Field Museum 
Bulletin. 



BULLETIN OCTOBER 1971 




More About Field Museum, 

or 

Why We Need $25,000,000 



Elizabeth Munger 



The objects that a museum collects, 
organizes, studies, explains, exhibits 
are of course largely objects from the 
past. Consequently some people may 
thinl< that a museum sometimes 
harbors the attitudes as well as the 
drama of the past. We do not, even 
though sometimes we lool< backward 
in order to understand our present 
position as a culmination of the past. 

We do have seventy-eight years of 
solid, impressive accomplishment 
behind us at Field Museum. We can 
try to measure our success by any of 
a number of countable as well as 
uncountable indexes; lil<e the over 
sixty-five million people who have 
visited the museum since 1921; lil<e 
the shelves of popular as well as 
scientific publications that we have 
published directly and that our scientists 
have published elsewhere; lil<e the 
millions of specimens in our study 
collections and the acres of exhibits in 
our public areas; like the much smaller 



number of advanced students whose 
training and subsequent contributions to 
knowledge Museum scientists as well 
as Museum materials contributed to; 
listings like this could go on and on. 

There is no doubt that the expectations 
of our founders and supporters 
through the years have been far 
surpassed, and that we have 
developed to be much more than a 
"memorial of the glories of the 
summer of '93," and much more than 
an "advantage and honor to the city." 

But reflection on our past 
achievements is not cause for 
contentment about our future. In fact, 
our very success in the past has 
created our major problem for the 
future. 

A successful business makes money 
through the years, but a successful 
museum can only consume it. Our 
benefactors in the past understood this 
fact well and endowed us generously 



BULLETIN OCTOBER 1971 



with funds that then seemed ample to 
yield enough income for all time to 
come. This public-spirited generosity 
gave rise to a prevailing folklore that 
v/e had limitless sources of wealth. 
But two kinds of change have 
effectively frustrated projections from 
an earlier age. While inflation has been 
seriously reducing the buying power of 
our endowment, at the same time the 
expenses to be supported by these 
funds have risen far beyond the 
expectations of even so recent a time 
as twenty years ago. 

For instance, our total operating 
expenses for 1950 were a little under 
$1,000,000 but by 1970 were over 
$3,500,000, during which time our staff 
increased by only 8 percent. Both 
inflation and increased activities are 
represented in those figures, but one 
crude measure of the increased 
activities would be the increase in 
attendance at Field Museum for the 
corresponding years — from a little over 



1,000,000 in 1950 to approximately 
1,700,000 in 1970. 

The pie-chart diagram for the 
corresponding years shows several 
things about our income resources to 
cover those expenses. Our endowment 
income in 1970 took care of only about 
half the proportion of expense that it 
covered in 1950; some federal 
research funds entered the picture; the 
increased attendance plus revised 
admission fees almost doubled the 
proportion derived from visitors and 
sales; and the proportionate support 
from contributions and memberships 
increased almost ninefold. In other 
words, by 1970 we were actively 
developing additional sources of 
income. 

But these figures do not show that at 
the same time we had to keep 
postponing basic maintenance, repairs, 
and needed improvements to our 
building — the same kind of decision 



Contributions and 
memberships 



Chicago Park District 
tax levy 



Visitor admissions 
and sales 



Endowment income 



FIELD MUSEUM'S SOURCES OF INCOME 
VISITOR ADMISSIONS AND SALES 
CONTRIBUTIONS AND MEMBERSHIP 
CHICAGO PARK DISTRICT TAX LEVY 
ENDOWMENT INCOME 
FEDERAL RESEARCH GRANTS 

TOTAL INCOME 




Federal research grants 



1950 




1970 




; 57,942 


5.8% 


$ 360,370 


11.0% 


20,979 


2.1 


577,914 


17.6 


129,870 


13.0 


480,605 


14.7 


790,209 


79.1 


1,455,462 


44.4 






404,820 


12.3 


;999,000 


100.0% 


$3,279,171 


100.0% 



that many a family has to make when 
the choice is between college for the 
children or refurbishing the house. 

Another line of attack on our 
increasingly nagging financial 
headache was begun in 1969. Field 
Museum's director, E. Leiand Webber, 
was one of the prime movers behind a 
report published that year by the 
American Association of Museums 
called America's Museums: The 
Belmont Report. This document is in a 
way a milestone in American cultural 
history. It narrates the transformation of 
the country's major museums into 
integral and necessary parts of national 
and international education and 
research, while they have yet 
maintained their local traditions and 
identity. About the museum 
tradition in America it says: 
"Apparently no other people has 
engaged in this activity on so vast a 
scale, over so long a period without a 
let-up, and in so many diverse fields 
of human interest." It includes a long 
quotation from the director of a large 
museum who was asked to say what 
goes on during a typical day. We 
recognize our own museum, our own 
museum director, in the statement. We 
digress long enough to include it here 
because it offers some justification for 
why we, like a family, chose to allocate 
our inadequate financial resources, as 
we did, to our work rather than to our 
house. 

Anywhere from 10 to 50 people will bring in 
minerals or butterflies or other objects for 
identification, for which they are referred to 
the appropriate research department. A 
scientist from India may be worl<ing in the 
Ichthyology collections. One from Brazil 
could probably be found there too, because 
we have the world's most comprehensive 
collection of fishes from the rivers of Brazil. 

A doctor may send the stomach contents of 
a patient to one of our mycologists to see 
if the wild mushroom the patient ate is a 
particularly dangerous kind. U.S. 
Government people working on plant 
quarantine duties, or on public health, will 
come in to have something identified or to 
use our collections and library. 

A staff botanist may be consulting with a 
scientist from a pharmaceuticals 



10 



BULLETIN OCTOBER 1971 



manufacturer to determine the identity of a 
potentially useful drug plant. Next door, a 
curator may be analyzing organic debris 
tfiat fias been found contaminating food 
products. In the taxidermy laboratory, 
technicians are sculpting a model of a 
prehistoric fish for a new exhibit. 

In the Division of Insects a curator might be 
studying the relationship between the 
peculiar flies that parasitize bats and the 
distribution of species of bats. In the 
Division of Mammals a curator might be 
working on the association between coat 
development of mammals and climatic 
variation. Almost certainly in several 
divisions museum technicians would be 
assembling material from the collections for 
shipment to universities in distant corners 
of our country. Such material as likely as 
not would be used by graduate students 
working for their doctorates. 

Again, this could have been the day, 
recently, when the health authorities of 
Bolivia turned to us for aid. They were faced 
with an epidemic. The suspected carrier 
animal was rushed to us for identification. 
The curator's scientific knowledge enabled 
him to identify the carrier — a small rodent 
resembling our common field mouse. The 
museum's publication describing its habits, 
habitat and life cycle pointed the way to 
fast control of the epidemic. 

Then, again in words from The Belmont 
Report: "mucli more than meets the 
eye goes on in any large museum . . . 
Much that goes on rests upon 
research. It is the invisible function of 
a museum. It came rather late in the 
evolution of American museums; it is 
rarely appreciated by the general 
public and is usually overshadowed by 
more glamorous activities, but without 
it the museum's function of 
interpretation would wither away and a 
museum's collection would lose value 
and meaning." 

The report also documents how 
"American museums are outstanding 
in educational programs and service to 
our educational system," and it points 
out that "more people go to museums 
today because more people than ever 
before have discovered that the arts 
and sciences which museums exist to 
serve are both Important and exciting"; 
that "the average American, given an 
opportunity, apparently has a desire to 
improve the quality of his life, and 




Dr. and Mrs. Karl Weineke of Boardman, Ohio and their children, from left, Karl, Jackie, and Mary Beth, 
were among the 1,700,000 people to visit the Museum in 1970. 



museums give him that opportunity." 

The immediate purpose of Tlie Belmont 
Report was to demonstrate the need 
of America's museums for some 
federal help to respond to the 
enormously increased public needs 
and demands that this expanded role 
in our educational and cultural life 
implies — needs that greatly 
overstretched their traditional sources 
of support. The National Science 



Foundation had long supported research 
functions of science museums and 
some research facilities, but few funds 
had been available for nonresearch 
activities. Art and history museums had 
had no significant sources of support. 

One current and encouraging federal 
response was the establishment by the 
National Endowment for the Arts of a 
pilot Museum Program for 1971. Through 
the program 103 grants totaling a little 



BULLETIN OCTOBER 1971 



11 



under $1 ,000,000 were made to various 
museums. This first step toward 
federal sfiaring of responsibility to 
support museum activities was mainly 
for special exhibition, training, 
outreach, and acquisition programs. Of 
course neither these activities nor the 
amounts involved were designed to 
reach to the core of our kind of 
financial problem. The program was 
designed to help museums in their 
expanding and innovative efforts to 
reach even wider audiences than they 
do now, which museums wish to do, 
and which public needs and wants 
require. 

Meanwhile, however, our most pressing 
underlying financial problems remain. 
The simple fact is that while we have 
been engrossed in exciting, expanding, 
and necessary work whose importance 
has evolved far beyond the 
expectations of our founders, our 
physical facilities are becoming more 
and more inadequate and have even 
begun to sag beneath us and crumble 
around us. We earnestly hope that 
federal recognition of the value of the 
services we perform will be expressed 
by increased financial support in the 
future, but federal help could only be 
part of the answer for us. Federal funds 
must be very broadly, and often thinly, 
spread around the whole country, and we 
must necessarily be considered one 
among many, whatever our 
international prestige may be. 

In early 1971 Field Museum and five 
other museums in the Chicago Park 
District proposed to the Park District 
Commissioners that authority be sought 
from the Illinois General Assembly for 
the Park District to share in the cost ol 
capital improvements to the museums 
on a fifty-fifty basis. The Commissioners 
approved the proposal and legislation 
was enacted in June and signed by 
Governor Ogilvie on August 4 
authorizing the Chicago Park District to 
issue $30,000,000 in bonds for museum 
improvements. Deep appreciation is 
due the Park District Commissioners 
and their president, Daniel Shannon, 



the members of the Illinois legislature, 
and Governor Ogilvie for this action 
which will mean so much to Chicago. 

Our statement of capital requirements 
submitted to the Chicago Park District 
and the General Assembly projected a 
need of $25,000,000. Based on this 
projection, we may anticipate 
approximately $12,500,000 from public 
funds if we can match them with 
another $12,500,000 of private gifts. 

The figure of $25,000,000 was 
developed by long study by staff, 
professional consultants, and trustees. 
The action of the General Assembly 
and the Park District was based on the 
proposal submitted after our board's 
comprehensive study of the basic 
capital improvements needed to place 
Field Museum in a position to move 
ahead in the 1970s. 

At the July meeting of our Board of 
Trustees, final organization of the 
Museum's Capital Campaign for 
$25,000,000 was completed. Official 
announcement of the campaign was 
made September 20 by President 
Remick McDowell. The General 
Chairman of the campaign is Nicholas 
Galitzine, partner of Bacon, Whipple 
Company and retired vice president of 
Commonwealth Edison Company. The 
campaign Vice Chairman is Marshall 
Field, publisher of the Chicago 
Sun-Times and Chicago Daily News. 
William H. Mitchell, honorary chairman 
of Mitchell Hutchins & Co., Inc. will be 
Co-Chairman of Individual Gifts with 
Marshall Field. Blaine J. Yarrington, 
president of American Oil Company, 
will serve as Chairman of Corporate 
Gifts and Philanthropic Foundations. 

The component parts of our 
$25,000,000 program are candidly 
presented here to show how such a 
large sum of money is arrived at. They 
also demonstrate the range of our 
deficiencies. We are certainly not proud 
of these deficiencies, but we are proud 
that until now we have been able to 
accomplish so much in spite of them. 
Some of these deficiencies are all too 




Preliminary schematic rendering of model 



BULLETIN OCTOBER 1971 




teria facilities and dining area. 



apparent to even casual public 
inspection. Others are experienced 
daily by our staff as the handicaps 
they have had to work under and 
around. Some of the most serious and 
costly are those apparent only to 
technical experts who have examined 
our building with great care. But they 
are all urgent needs which must be 
taken care of If we are to fulfill our 
responsibilities to our local community 
and to the widespread scientific and 
educational communities that we have 
become a part of. 

— Electrical system, $1 ,775,000. As is 
generally true of 1920 vintage 
buildings, the electrical system is 
inadequate and obsolete in both 
design and capacity. A completely new 
electrical system is required for fire 
safety and to upgrade lighting to 
modern standards. Sufficient capacity 
for anticipated future needs and for air 
conditioning the building is included. 

— Security against fire, smoke, and 
burglary, $610,000. The Museum's 
775,000 square feet of floor area is 
without sprinkler protection, except for 
a few high-hazard areas. In addition, 
modern fire and burglary detection and 
alarm systems for all areas of the 
Museum are urgently needed. 

— Plumbing, drainage, and toilet 
systems, $1 ,050,000. Except for a few 
sections which have had to be 
replaced, the Museum's sanitary lines 
and other plumbing are all more than 
fifty years old and need total 
replacement. Additionally, the storm 
sewer system has been severely 
damaged because of the sinking 
ground floor and will have to be 
abandoned. An overhead collection 
system at ground floor ceiling height 
is contemplated. Four critically needed 
lounge and toilet facilities located 
strategically throughout the building 
must also be installed. 

—Exterior windows, $900,000. Most of 
the fifty-year-old exterior window 
sashes are seriously deteriorated and in 



many cases rotted out. More than 1 ,000 
large windows need to be replaced. 

—Heating system, $300,000. The 
present coal-fired heating system must 
be converted to a combination gas 
and oil operation to reduce operating 
costs and minimize air pollution. 

— food services, $715,000. Our food 
preparation and serving facilities are 
primitive. Modern cafeteria facilities for 
about 600 persons plus a small dining 
area for luncheon groups are planned. 
More than 15,000 square feet of space 
are needed to provide adequate 
kitchen, storage, serving, and seating. 

— Floor sinking, $800,000. The Museum 
building sits immovable on its pilings 
but the ground floor floats on 
uncompacted fill, having been poured 
about seven years after the building 
was completed without being tied into 
the basic structure. In places the floor 
has settled from 5V'2 inches to 1 1 Vz 
inches, causing no end of problems to 
exhibits, partitions, sewers, and 
plumbing. Soil engineers predict that 
90 percent of the ground floor area 
will settle no more than an additional 
V2 inch in the next twenty-five years. 
The remaining 10 percent needs to be 
tied into the building structure because 
of past and predicted future settling. 

— Exterior stairs and entrances, 
$525,000. The North and South exterior 
stairs need complete rebuilding to 
avoid costly maintenance and eventual 
collapse. Heating coils for snow 
removal are included. The current 
building code requires that the 
Museum's exit capacity be four times 
greater. Engineers propose cutting new 
exit door openings for each of the 
eight stairways and widening the 
present North and South exits. 

— Visitor entrance facilities and 
services, $550,000. Information and 
admission areas and checking and 
bookshop facilities need substantial 
expansion and relocation to provide 
better public services and to increase 
the income they produce. 



BULLETIN OCTOBER 1971 



13 




Group attendance of school children has increased 50 percent since 1965 to approximately 400.000 annually. 



— Centralized administrative offices, 
$550,000. The Museum's offices are 
generally inadequate and in many 
cases isolated. A centralized office is 
necessary to improve operations, 
communications, and supervision. 

—Educational facilities, $940,000. Use 
of the Museum by school and other 
groups continues to rise. Group 
attendance of school children has 
increased 50 percent since 1965 to 
approximately 400,000 annually. 
Moreover, increasing recognition of the 
Museum as an important national 
resource has been accompanied by 
a marl<ed increase in the use of its 
limited classroom and laboratory 
facilities by teachers and other groups 
pursuing studies in ecology and 
environment. Extensive remodeling of 
the ground floor West area is required 
to provide proper orientation, checking, 
and toilet facilities for educational 
programs. A bus ramp, canopy, and 
paving changes for direct access by 
school groups through our West 



Theatre entrance to a proposed 
educational facility are also necessary. 

—Scientific areas, $3,750,000. With a 
grant from the National Science 
Foundation in 1964, the Museum was 
able to provide expanded space and 
facilities for the collections and 
personnel of the Department of 
Geology. A filled-in lightw^ell added 
250,000 cubic feet of space, all in 
close proximity to the department's 
curators. Other grants and restricted 
funds made it possible to construct 
storage facilities for the Invertebrate 
Division in 1971. Now the space needs 
for collections and personnel of the 
Anthropology, Botany, and Zoology 
Departments are critical. The herbarium 
in the Department of Botany is virtually 
bursting at the seams. A filled-in 
lightwell for each of the three 
departments should tal<e care of their 
foreseeable growth needs. 

— Escalators and elevators, $440,000. 
Installation of escalators will be a great 



convenience to the public and will also 
help immeasurably in reducing first 
floor and ground floor congestion. 
Escalators will substantially increase 
the number of second floor visitors 
since the public must at present climb 
seventy-three steps from the ground to 
the second floor. Approximately 
$50,000 of the total is needed to 
replace the fifty-year-old elevator 
which serves our scientific staff located 
on the third and fourth floors. 

— Sound-deadening, $275,000. 
Acoustical treatment was relatively 
unknown or ignored at the time the 
Museum was erected. The noise level 
in certain popular exhibit areas is 
decidedly uncomfortable and hampers 
the educational program severely. The 
most popular and most noisy halls 
must be sound-treated. 

—Exterior walls, $750,000. The soft 
Georgia marble exterior of the Museum 
has been and continues to be 
seriously eroded by weather and air 
pollution. Recently developed 
technology indicates that a permanent 
nontarnishing protective coating can be 
applied to arrest further deterioration. 
The Museum is currently conducting 
experiments with the newly developed 
product. 

—Roof and sky ligfits, $200,000. 
Extensive re-roofing and removal of 
certain skylights will be required as a 
part of the Museum's rehabilitation 
and remodeling program. 

— Ventilation and air conditioning, 
$3,740,000. The Museum's ventilation 
system reflects the burden of excessive 
wear and tear; it is more than twice 
the normal depreciation age of such 
equipment. Much of the system, 
obsolete at best, reflects a general 
condition of rusted-out coils and ducts, 
making its operation virtually 
impossible. To provide proper 
temperature, ventilation, filtering, and 
humidity for the Museum's priceless 
collections, books, and exhibits (as 
well as for employees and visitors), a 
modern air treatment system is sorely 



BULLETIN OCTOBER 1971 



Field Museum's Capital Campaign leadership discuss the Museum's $25,000,000 development program with Daniel J. Shannon, president, Board ol Commissioners, 
Chicago Park District. From left, Blaine J. 'Harrington, president, American Oil Company and chairman of corporate gilts; William H. Mitchell, honorary chairman of 
Mitchell Hutchlns & Company, Inc. and co-chairman of individual gifts: Marshall Field, put>lisher of the Chicago Sun-Times and Chicago Dally News and vice chairman 
of the capital fund drive and co-chairman of individual gifts: Nicholas Galltzine, partner In Bacon, Whipple and Company and general chairman of the campaign: and 
Daniel J. Shannon. In announcing the Capital Campaign, Chairman Nicholas Galitzine reported $3,190,000 in advance gifts, primarily from some of the Field 
Museum trustees. 




needed. The Museum contemplates a 
unified air conditioning system capable 
of fiandling a total cooling load of 
approximately 3,000 tons. 

— James Simpson Theatre, $1,185,000. 
The 1,125 seat theatre and supporting 
toilet and checking facilities are all 
original construction. IVluch broader 
use of this facility by science-oriented 
and other groups would be obtained 
if a modern functional facility could be 
provided. A completely renovated 
1,000 seat threatre with new seating, 
lighting, and acoustical treatment 
together with modern lounge, toilet, 
and checking facilities is contemplated. 

—Lecture Hall, $125,000. The Lecture 
Hall can be converted Into an excellent 
modern facility of approximately its 
present capacity of 241 persons. The 
Museum has a great deal of use for a 
hall of medium capacity. 

— Architectural alterations and 
equipment for exhibits, $5,000,000. To 
maintain and enhance the Museum's 
position as one of the world's largest 
natural history museums, substantial 
modernization programs should be 
Initiated to Incorporate recent marked 
advances to strengthen materially the 



quality of the public exhibits. This 
would Involve substantial alterations of 
structure and integral elements of 
exhibits. 

—Terrace walls, $800,000. Due to 
settling of the land fill, substantial 
portions of the terrace walls need 
resetting and replacement. 

—Exterior lighting, $95,000. To 
enhance the aesthetic value of the 
classical structure of the Museum, the 
illumination level of the North and 
South porticos should be Increased 
and the exterior lighting of the entire 
building upgraded. 

—Tuckpointing, $150,000. Although the 
building has been tuckpolnted 
Intermittently over the years and as 
recently as 1970 $39,000 was 
expended, we urgently need to 
complete this work. 

Here then is quite a different aspect of 
Field Museum's history. It's the 
practical aspect that bears most 
directly on what our future can be. If 
these critical financial needs are not 
met we won't Immediately close our 
doors. Deterioration has much more 
subtle consequences than that, but 
they accelerate as time goes on. 



It will be seen from the foregoing that 
Field Museum's plans are in the truest 
sense conservation — aimed at 
protecting the treasures In our care 
and at creating an institution that can 
serve its constituency through the 1970s 
and into the next decade, it Is not a 
program of major expansion and it is 
not a frozen blueprint for several 
decades. We feel that one of the prime 
responsibilities of any service institution 
in this period of rapid change Is to 
preserve flexibility. This dictates a 
constant assessment of institutional 
function based on contemporary 
community and national needs. The 
program we are embarking on is our 
pledge to the 1970s. Nothing less will 
fulfill our responsibility to those who 
have built a great museum in the past 
nor to those we seek to serve in the 
future. 



Elizabeth Munger is associate editor of the 

Field Museum Bulletin. 



BULLETIN OCTOBER 1971 



IS 



NOTES FROM 
UNDERGROUND 

HARRY G. NELSON 



There are several things that almost 
everyone knows about earthworms: 

1. They are slippery slimy creatures. 

2. They make admirable fish-bait and 
can be collected at night after the 
ground has been wet. 

3. They lack eyes but respond to light. 

4. They live in the soil, burrowing in it 
by eating their way along. 

5. They are hermaphroditic, combining 
both male and female parts in the 
same animal. 

Some of the above statements are true, 
but some are misleading or omit even 
more interesting features of the 
animals. Let's examine them. 

1. Under normal circumstances the 
outer surface of an earthworm is cool, 
moist, and covered with a thin coat of 
mucus. It is cool because it is moist; 
that is, evaporation of the moisture 
helps to keep the animal's temperature 
low. Like many "cold-blooded" 
animals, earthworms can be injured by 
even brief exposure to temperatures as 
high as those most mammals find 
comfortable. The mucus coat is 
responsible, in part, for the moisture, 
for it holds water, swelling or 
contracting as the amount of water 
increases or diminishes. As water is 
lost, the mucus becomes sticky and 
then stiff, and finally shrinks to a small 
fraction of its former volume. 

Because the mucus tends to hold water 
next to the body surface, it also plays 
an important part in the respiratory 
exchange of atmospheric gases 
(oxygen, carbon dioxide, and even 
ammonia) through the worm's body 
surface. If the body surface becomes 
dry, passage of these gaseous 
materials is greatly slowed. The 
chemical composition of the mucus 
itself is not well understood. It 
apparently contains proteins and some 
kind of carbohydrate material, the 
combination being secreted by certain 
cells of the epidermis, the outermost 
single layer of living cells beneath the 
nonliving cuticle. The mucus may be 




produced in large amounts and seems 
to account for as much as 50 percent 
of the nitrogen excreted from the body 
each day. (That is, the proteins of the 
mucus, lost to the body as it is worn 
away, contain nitrogen that is thereby 
given off.) 

The mucus has several other important 
functions for the worm. It minimizes 
friction damage as the animal pushes 
its way through the soil. Its lubricating 
effect also undoubtedly aids in the 
emergency when a robin catches part 
of a worm in its beak. Also, as the 
mucus wears away and accumulates 
along the walls of burrows, it holds 
soil particles in place to keep the walls 
from collapsing. This kind of 
"engineering" would not work in sandy 
soils, and, in fact, earthworms are 
rarely found in soils that are very 
sandy. Of course, there is also the fact 
that sandy soils have poorer 
water-holding capacity than worms 
require. 

A special thickened layer of gland 
cells, called the clitellum, produces a 
heavy dense mucus that plays a vital 
role in sexual reproduction in these 
organisms which are imperfectly 
adjusted to a terrestrial existence. The 
mucus partially covers the two worms 
during mating, minimizing damage to 
the sperms being transferred to the 



partner. The egg cocoon produced by 
each worm a few hours or days after 
mating is composed of a similar dense 
mucus. 

As for mucus in general, apart from 
worms, virtually all groups of the 
animal kingdom, excepting only the 
Arthropoda, produce mucus on at least 
some parts of the outer surface and 
along such inner passages as the 
digestive tract and certain respiratory 
and reproductive passages. 

2. Probably it's their easy availability 
and large size that have made 
earthworms the favorite bait among 
anglers, at least those who fish in 
inland waters. Worms do not normally 
drown in cool water, intact earthworms 
being known to live for more than a 
year while totally submerged, but they 
obligingly come to the soil surface 
during rains, especially when the 
weather is warm. As the rain tends to 
saturate the ground and fill all air 
pockets, the worms move up. They are 
responding partly to the decreased 
oxygen supply and increased carbon 
dioxide supply caused by many soil 
microorganisms enormously increasing 
their metabolic activity when water 
becomes abundant in the soil. The life 
activities of these bacteria, fungi, 
protozoans, algae, rotifers, etc. rapidly 
use up the oxygen not already 
displaced by the water and in the 
process release large amounts of 
carbon dioxide. Further, the liquid 
nature of the soil at this time greatly 
slows the movement of all gas 
particles compared with the action of 
diffusion when air permeates the soil. 

There is another interesting aspect of 
this business of fishbait, and it has to 
do with the geography of earthworms. 
We do not understand why, but it 
appears that the earthworms of 
northern Europe have been amazingly 
able to invade other continents, 
establish colonies, and drive the native 
species out of the ground, as it were. 
There is no doubt that the European 
worms have been carried about by 
man in connection with one or another 



16 



BULLETIN OCTOBER 1971 



of his enterprises. Many were 
transported in the soil accompanying 
cultivated plants; in fact, comnnercial 
greenhouses have unwittingly been 
staging areas aiding the invasion of 
temperate areas. And enormous 
numbers of soil-inhabiting organisms 
have been carried in the soil used as 
ballast in ships that carried lumber 
from the forests of eastern United 
States and Canada to Northern Europe. 
Since the ships could not safely come 
back empty, their holds were ballasted 
with bags of soil and rock. The dirt 
was emptied into New England 
harbors or the St. Lawrence River, and 
later on shore (under direction of 
harbormasters charged with the 
responsibility for maintaining navigable 
conditions for shipping). In this way 
hundreds of species of soil insects, 
other arthropods, annelid worms, and 
various micro-organisms crossed from 
the Old to the New World as well as 
to other continents. 

In most cities of eastern North 
America; in such South American 
cities as Sao Paulo, Rio de Janeiro, 
Buenos Aires, Santiago; in most large 
cities of Australia and New Zealand, 
the only species of earthworms to be 
found are species introduced from 
Northern Europe! In the Chicago area 
even the forest preserves in the farther 
reaches of Cook County contain these 
introduced species. It may be 
observed that city parks and domestic 
gardens are areas that in one way or 
another are maintained in an unnatural 
condition — unnatural, that is, compared 
with original forest or prairie soil. It is 
probable that this maintained or 
managed state somehow gives an 
advantage to the foreign earthworms. 
In North America north of f\/lexico, of a 
total of sixty species of earthworms 
recorded in 1966, 37 (61 percent) 
were introduced from Europe. 
Interestingly, the only species of 
earthworms now found in those 
portions of Europe from which the 
glaciers retreated 12,000-15,000 years 
ago are the same species that have 
been able to migrate around the world. 




Typical mating position of L. lerrestrls. As the two worms lock tightly together by means of modified bristles 
with barbed hooks that each one thrusts Into Its partner's body, the glandular ciltellum of each produces 
copious mucus which encloses the partners. This photo and photo on page 16 courtesy of COM: General 
Biological, Inc. 



The favorite "angle" worm is 
Lumbricus terrestris, the big night 
crawler, or "dew-worm." This species, 
perhaps the most studied member of 
the phylum Annelida, is a typical 
member of the European peregrine 
(i.e., traveler) group of species. It has 
been brought by fishermen to parts of 
the world not only where it was 
previously absent but where no 
earthworms previously existed. For 
better or worse, this species of angle 
worm is now available "naturally" in 
the highest remote areas of the Rocky 
Mountains, in most of the National 
Parks, and on every continent. Its large 
size and rapid rate of reproduction 
have undoubtedly aided in its dispersal. 

Although some individual worms may 
be out and active on cloudy days, 
various factors make earthworms 
active primarily at night. They are less 
vulnerable to such predators as robins 
and woodcocks (few other birds feed 
regularly on earthworms). The simple 
exchange of respiratory gases through 
a worm's body surface will be more 
likely to meet its internal requirements 



during the lowered temperature and 
higher relative humidity of the dark 
hours. And also, loss of water from its 
body surface will be minimized. The 
adult Lumbricus loses an estimated 
60 percent of its total weight as water 
each day under average circumstances. 
In dry periods earthworms retreat to 
lower levels in the soil, in some cases 
to ten feet below the surface. They 
may finally retreat to a small chamber 
and become twisted into a close knot 
surrounded by a film of drying mucus. 
This condition may persist for several 
weeks until increased moisture 
becomes available. In certain species 
a true estivation, or diapause, sets in. 
Once asleep, the animals cannot be 
roused by any change in temperature 
or moisture conditions. The dormant 
state lasts about two months and has 
been supposed to be controlled by a 
hormonal mechanism. 

3. Although other classes (Polychaeta 
and Hirudinea) of the phylum Annelida 
possess eyes, often of considerable 
complexity, earthworms do not. 
However, all species studied do have 



■fiULLETIN OCTOBER 1971 



17 




Giant earthworm from Ecuador, Small worm, from Pennsylvania soil, 
Ralph Buchsbaum. 



is eight inches long. Photo by Dr. 



single cells scattered In the dorsal 
epidermis, particularly near the anterior 
end, which are like minute eyes. 
Groups of similar cells are found in 
the nerve cord as well as certain 
anterior nerves. An internal lens-like 
body in each cell appears to 
concentrate light rays upon a nerve 
fiber. Blue light produces the maximum 
response from worms, while red light 
appears hardly to be detected, except 
as it may have a warming effect. A 
worm's response to strong light is to 
suddenly withdraw into its burrow. On 
the other hand, earthworms are 
positively attracted to weak intensities 
of light. Thus, the worms are kept in 
their burrows by their innate responses 
to daylight, when, in fact, it would be 
dangerous for them to be active. 
Correspondingly, they are attracted out 
at night when conditions are less 
inimical to their survival. 

But their light-sensitive mechanisms 
sometimes betray them. Worms do not 
appear to be able to detect ultraviolet 
light in the usual sense, but they are 



sensitive to it, as is all other 
protoplasm. When heavy rains saturate 
the ground and earthworms come to 
the surface during the daytime, even 
if the sun is not shining brightly they 
are exposed to much more ultraviolet 
light than at night. It is a common 
experience after a heavy daytime rain 
to find many dead and dying worms 
on the ground. They came up in a 
time of stress for a "breath of fresh 
air" and were fatally injured by the 
ultraviolet light from the sun. Sixty 
seconds of full sunlight is enough to 
fatally injure an earthworm. 

4. In the loose upper layers of soil, 
particularly near bodies of water, 
earthworms are able to push their way 
between soil particles by means of 
coordinated contractions of the circular 
and longitudinal muscles of the body 
wall. The fluid contained in their 
coelomic body cavities hydraulically 
extends the several anterior body 
segments, which become progressively 
more slender toward the front tip. 
However, in more densely packed soil 



at greater depths, or in heavy clay or 
earth thick with plant roots, the 
earthworm's only means of burrowing 
is to eat its way along. Secretions 
from glands of the front end of the 
digestive tract soften the earth and 
make swallowing easier. 

Killing two birds with one stone, as it 
were, the normal collection of digestive 
enzymes is secreted into this soil that 
more or less fills the digestive cavity. 
Whatever was swallowed that can be 
digested by these enzymes is 
fragmented chemically and absorbed, 
mostly from the intestine, which takes 
up three-fourths or more of the 
posterior part of the body. It is evident, 
however, that in many species (such 
as L terrestris) the amount of food a 
worm takes in during burrowing activity 
is only a small fraction of what it 
consumes during nightly foraging at 
the surface, while keeping its posterior 
end in the burrow. Study of the 
microscopic contents of the digestive 
tract of earthworms discloses various 
soil algae, fungi, rotifers, smaller 
earthworms, nematodes, many Insect 
larvae, protozoans, and so on. 

When an earthworm is ready to 
eliminate its load of diggings, it backs 
up through an existing tunnel to the 
surface of the ground or into an 
abandoned burrow and empties 
perhaps as much as one-third the 
intestine of its semifluid contents. 
These "castings" contain particles of 
soil whose average size is less than 
uningested soil and whose bacterial 
count is increased by about one-third. 
There is some evidence that such 
natural manure may be beneficial to 
plant growth even if the earthworms 
themselves are absent, although the 
active presence of earthworms is even 
more helpful. In some cases the crops 
grown in experimental greenhouse 
plots were 200 percent greater when 
earthworms were present than when 
they were excluded. Their numerous 
channels (as many as 280 were 
counted in a square meter of soil at a 
depth of fourteen inches) aids aeration 



18 



BULLETIN OCTOBER 1971 



of the soil, penetration of rain water, 
growth of aerobic bacteria and other 
organisms, decay of organic material, 
and the movement of many other small 
animals. Some earthworm burrows 
found at depths of several feet in clay 
soils have undoubtedly existed for 
many years. 

Earthworms can bring an amazing 
amount of soil to the surface from 
lower layers. (Charles Darwin 
published the first serious study of this 
matter in his book The Formation ot 
Vegetable Mould, by the Action ot 
Worms, in 1881. Up to 700 lumbricid 
worms have been reported under the 
surface of one square meter of 
meadow soil. It has been calculated 
that up to 17.5 lbs. of soil per year are 
carried to the surface of every square 
meter in a large field from depths as 
much as several feet. Objects at the 
surface have been estimated to sink 
at rates of 3-5 mm. per year. Buildings 
as big as Roman dwellings in Britain 
and Indian houses in Central America 
have disappeared into the earth largely 
due to the action of earthworms. 

Different species of earthworms live at 
different depths in the soil, some never 
reaching the surface. Such 
"preferences" may be related to 
moisture or soil type, although smaller 
species are usually confined to the 
upper few inches because their 
particular food is found only there. 

Earthworms cultivate their soil 
environment in another way too. Every 
gardener has noted tufts of twisted 
leaves and twigs, sometimes a dozen 
or more, protruding from the ground, 
particularly on mornings after cool 
nights. During the night the worms' 
searching mouths have pulled these 
bits of organic material that is their 
major source of food into their burrows 
to eat. In the process numerous seeds 
are effectively planted and may take 
root. Narrow leaves, such as willow or 
grass, may be pulled well into the 
burrow, making a lining to a depth of 
several inches. 




Earthworm castings can build up to considerable 
heights at the soil surface. 



5. Although all earthworms are 
hermaphroditic, the usual method of 
reproduction is by cross-insemination. 
Each of the partners during the mating 
process receives several thousand 
spermatozoa from the other. After 
mating, which commonly takes a few 
hours, the animals separate and return 
to their respective burrows. A few 
cocoons (7 mm. x 5 mm. in L terrestris) 
are formed later and are deposited in 
the soil or among leaf debris, where in 
warm, moist climates they hatch in a 
few weeks. The young L. terrestris 
worm is about 10 mm. long. In this 
species usually only one worm 
emerges from each cocoon, but mating 
is more or less continuous in spring 
and fall, cocoons being deposited 
every three or four days. 

A very few cases of self-impregnation 
have been reported in earthworms. 
That is, worms isolated from all others 
from the time of hatching or before 
have been found to produce fertilized 
eggs. There is a possibility that viable 
sperms from another worm persisted 
in the environment in any of a number 
of ways, so perhaps the conclusion 
that self-impregnation occurred is not 
strictly warranted from this evidence. 
But it is at least plausible. 



Parthenogenesis is another modification 
of the usual cross-fertilizing method — 
meaning that offspring develop from 
the unfertilized eggs of a single parent. 
Parthenogenesis has been increasingly 
reported in earthworms during the last 
twenty years and may be more 
common than is yet realized. The 
details vary somewhat, but the general 
situation is that normal sperm are 
simply not produced, yet eggs are laid 
which develop into embryos and finally 
young worms. Chromosome analysis 
demonstrates that parthenogenesis has 
occurred and distinguishes this kind of 
reproduction from self-impregnation. 

At least some of these cases suggest 
evolutionary changes in process — that 
is, some of these species are 
becoming parthenogenetic at the 
present time. 

There are other peculiar aspects of 
earthworms. For example, to continue 
the list we started with: 

6. They possess five pairs of hearts. 

7. They lack hard skeletal structures, 
their cuticle being thin and 
nonsupporting. 

8. They can regenerate missing parts. 

9. Their size ranges from % inch long 
to 8 feet, though the largest American 
species (in the South) is only S'/a 
feet. 

10. They perform useful functions in 
compost piles and hence in organic 

gardening. 

But there is a danger in telling more 
about earthworms than a lot of people 
want to know in one sitting. So the 
rest can wait for another time. 



Harry G. Nelson is associate, Division ot 
Insects, Field Museum, and protessor and 
chairman. Department of Biology, Roosevelt 
University. 



BULLETIN OCTOBER 1971 



19 



migrations melvin a. traylor 



This is the time of year when even the 
most case-hardened city dweller 
becomes aware that something is 
moving besides the cars on the 
expressways. In late August he realized 
without thinking of it that there were 
great flocks of martins roosting nights 
on the Bahai Temple and Aquarium; in 
September the calls of high-flying 
nighthawks drew his attention skyward, 
but in October the insistant honking of 
the geese as their lines and "V's" move 
southward over the city itself makes 
him realize that summer is indeed 
ended and the birds are on their 
southward migration. With his 
awareness thus heightened, he 
recognizes from the gentle rain of 
warblers and thrushes around "Big 
John" and the other tall buildings that 
this movement involves most birds, 
both big and small. 

Although the migrations of larger birds, 
particularly the enormous flights of 
waterfowl, were understood by the 
ancients, the ability of sparrow or 
warbler-sized birds to travel thousands 
of miles a year was not accepted until 
the last century. They were generally 
believed to hibernate in hollow trees or 
in the mud of ponds, or else to 
hitchhike their way south on the backs 
of eagles or hawks. It is only through 
collecting in tropical countries during 
the northern winter, and by tracing the 
movements of individual birds through 
the use of numbered bands, that an 
accurate knowledge of the migration of 
each species has been determined. 

The more one learns about migration, 
the more one is impressed by the 
amazing diversity of migratory patterns, 
and by the enormous distances that 
some birds travel. Some species, such 
as our familiar Song Sparrow and Blue 
Jay, move only as far as the severe 
weather forces them, and hardy 
individuals may even remain here 
during the winter. At the other extreme, 
the Barn Swallows and Bobolinks will 
leave here in late August, when the 
weather is still fine and food abundant, 
and travel 6000 miles to Argentina, 




where they are among the more 
conspicuous birds of the southern 
summer. We like to think of these last 
two as our typical native birds, but the 
four months they spend with us are no 
more than the time that they spend in 
South America. As one goes further 
north, this discrepancy between time 
spent on breeding and wintering 
grounds becomes even greater. The 
shorebirds that breed on the arctic 
tundra have barely two months in which 
to rear their young, and individuals 
that we saw migrating north in May 
will be back with us on their 
southbound voyage in late July. 

The routes followed by these long- 
distance migrants are not a simple 
south in autumn and north in spring. 
A glance at the map will show that the 
whole of South America lies east of 
New York, and our birds that winter 
there must make a southeasterly flight. 
Some may accomplish this by following 
the arc of Central America, but the 
majority make it by flying directly 
across the Gulf of Mexico or the 
Caribbean, even though this involves 
a non-stop flight of several hundred 
miles. The flights of European song 
birds to Africa are even more 
remarkable. Not only must they cross 
the Mediterranean, but immediately 
thereafter they are faced with 1000 
miles of Sahara Desert, which offers 



nothing but death by desiccation for 
birds that land there. It has been 
determined that many of the European 
song birds must make a minimum 
non-stop flight of 1200 miles, no small 
feat for a bird weighing an ounce or 
two. They are able to accomplish this 
by laying up fuel in the form of a 
heavy layer of fat just before they start 
their flight. When they take off, up to 30 
percent to 40 percent of their weight  

may be fat, most of which will be * 

expended by the time they reach 
subsaharan Africa. The most 
remarkable long-distance migrant of all 
is the Arctic Tern. After breeding in 
northern Canada, it crosses the north 
Atlantic, goes south along the west 
coast of Europe and Africa, winters in 
antarctic waters, and returns north 
along the coasts of the Americas, a 
25,000 mile round trip every year. 

Most people who have had birds 
nesting around their homes have 
wondered whether the same birds 
return each year or new ones arrive 
opportunistically. The general rule (no 
rule of behavior can be written that 
will fit all species) is that the same 
bird or pair of birds will return year 
after year to the spot where they 
nested previously. This was 
demonstrated many years ago with 
Purple Martins and later with many • 

other species. But what has only I 



20 



BULLETIN OCTOBER 1971 



recently been appreciated is that each 
bird will have its own restricted 
wintering ground to which it returns 
year after year, even though the latter 
has none of the strong breeding 
associations characteristic of the 
northern home. Dr. Jocelyn van Tyne 
first demonstrated this in 1934 by 
banding Indigo Buntings in Guatemala 
one winter and finding the same 
individuals returning the following year. 
Since his pioneering efforts others 
have demonstrated the same for many 
species both in Africa and tropical 
America. Even more remarkable than 
this ability to find the same garden or 
field after a trip of several thousand 
miles is the proven ability to follow the 
identical route along the way. Banders 
trapping birds during migration are 
finding that the same birds pass 
through, autumn after autumn or spring 
after spring. One bander in Tunis on 
the north coast of Africa captured the 
same Redstart each spring for three 
years. For the Redstart this meant 
crossing a thousand miles of 
featureless desert and finding the same 
small garden in which it rested a few 
days the previous year before leaving 
for its nesting home in Europe. It would 
be like stopping at the same gas 
station on the way from Chicago to 
New York, but without any roads to 
guide us. 

One can hardly study migration without 
wondering how the birds find their 
way. It was originally believed that 
they piloted by following natural 
features such as shorelines and major 
rivers, and these were frequently 
designated major flyways. There is no 
question that birds do take advantage 
of these landmarks, and there are often 
concentrations of migrants in favorable 
areas, but too much accurate 
navigation takes place in the absence 
of natural features for this to be the 
only means. The Bristle-thighed Curlew 
crosses a minimum of 2000 miles of 
open ocean from Hawaii to its only 
nesting place in western Alaska, and it 
must obviously navigate without 
landmarks. Experiments have shown 




that some species orient by the stars 
and others by the sun, and in both 
cases they have an inner clock that 
allows them to compensate for the 
rotation of the earth. Bird navigation is 
too large and uncertain a subject to be 
treated fully in an article on migration, 
but my own feeling is that birds will 
use all the means mentioned above, as 
well as others not demonstrated, such 
as the magnetic field of the earth. 

The altitude at which birds fly is 
another aspect of migration for which 
many details are known, but for which 
no general rules may be laid down. 
Radar studies show that small 
songbirds may fly at any level up to 
5000 feet above the ground, and the 
shore birds and waders up to 10,000 
feet. Generally the migrants are higher 
on clear nights than on cloudy ones, 
and it is the low-flying birds on the 
cloudy nights that are confused by the 
lighted buildings of the city and fly 
into them. These dead and injured 
birds are usually the city dweller's only 
clue to small-bird migration. The 
absolute height records are probably 
held by migrants crossing the 
Himalayas, where even the passes are 
at 20,000 feet. 

Whatever the means of navigation, the 
particular pattern of migration is 
genetically determined for each 
species. Among many of the shorebirds 
the adults leave as soon as the young 
can fend for themselves, and the 
latter make migrations of thousands of 



Migrations of the Bobolink. After malting an 
enormous flight across the Americas, the Boboiinlt 
winters in eastern Bolivia, southern Brazil and 
northern Argentina. 



miles without any experienced birds to 
guide them. One would expect that the 
evolution of such intricate behavior 
would take countless thousands of 
years, but those of our more northern 
migrants must have evolved within the 
last 10,000 years, because before that 
their breeding grounds were covered 
with ice. A suggestion of how present 
migratory routes developed may be 
found in the migrations of species that 
are at present rapidly extending their 
ranges. The Asiatic Arctic Warbler and 
Yellow Wagtail have crossed over and 
now nest regularly in Alaska, and our 
Gray-cheeked Thrush now nests in 
eastern Siberia, but in each case the 
birds cross back over the Bering Sea 
to return to their old wintering grounds, 
instead of going south to the much 
nearer tropical areas of their new 
continents. Apparently the birds are 
conservative in their habits, and new 
routes are built up by adding small 
increments to the old ones. 

I have confined my discussion to bird 
migration, for that is my own field of 
knowledge, but migration is not 
confined to any one group of animals. 
Butterflies, of which the best known is 
our Monarch, may travel a thousand 
miles, and the former seasonal 
movement of the Buffalo on the plains 
was one of the most awesome sights 
of nature. Salmon are notorious for 
their breeding runs, and already the 
Coho in Lake tvlichigan have developed 
a predictable pattern that allows the 
fisherman to meet them on their way 
up the lake in summer. Even though 
we cannot fully understand how 
migration takes place, we can be 
enthralled by the beauty and intricacy 
of the patterns nature develops. 

SUGGESTED READING 

Jean Dorst. The Migrations of Birds. New 
York: Houghton Mifflin Co., 1962. 

Robert T. Orr. Animals in Migration. New 
York: Macmillan Company, 1970. 



Melvin A. Traylor is associate curator ot 
birds, Field Museum. 



BULLETIN OCTOBER 1971 



» 





before credit cards elizabeth munger 



When the inhabitants of one country became more dependent on those of another, and 
they imported what they needed, and exported what they had too much of, money 
necessarily came into use. For the various necessaries of life are not easily carried about, 
and hence men agreed to employ in their dealings with each other something which was 
intrinsically useful and easily applicable to the purposes of life, for example, Iron, silver, 
and the like. Of this the value was at first measured simply by size and weight, but in 
process of time they put a stamp upon it, to save the trouble of weighing and to mark the 
value. — Aristotle, Politics, Bk. l:Ch. 9, 33-41, trans, by Benjamin Jowett. 



Several especially Important ancient 
Greek silver coins and two Roman 
medallions, part of a collection recently 
donated to Field Museum by Jon 
Holtzman, of Madison, Wisconsin and 
Paul Holtzman, of Las Vegas, Nevada, 
are on display in the South Lounge 
through November 7. Three different 
styles of coin from the 6th century B.C. 
represent the earliest period in the 
history of coinage, the Archaic period 
of Greek art. One beautiful specimen 
from the 4th century B.C. exemplifies 
the Finest Art period. 

Western world coinage is believed to 
have been invented about 640 B.C. in 
the Asia Minor Kingdom of Lydia. 
That's what Herodotus said, and most 
modern scholars are disposed to agree 
with him. The beginning of coinage in 
China about the same time was 
probably an independent invention, in 
the West the first metal used was a 
naturally occurring mixture of gold and 
silver called electrum, which came 
from the river beds in Lydia. But silver 
then became most commonly used, 
and only occasionally gold. 



Among ancient Greek coins now on display in 
South Lounge are these illustrated. Page 22, top to 
bottom: stater of Aegina, struck 550-480 B.C.. 
obverse and reverse, and tetradrachm of Athens, 
struck 540-500 B.C., obverse and reverse. Page 23, 
top to bottom: tetradrachm of Acanthus, struck 
525-500 B.C., obverse and reverse, and tetradrachm 
of Clazomenae. struck 387-301 B.C.. obverse and 
revarse. 



Technologically it was really just a step 
forward to make small equivalent units, 
coins, of the precious metal bars or 
ingots that were previously used in 
trade exchange — no doubt sometimes 
stamped with their claimed weights, 
and perhaps even a mark identifying 
their origin. 

The stater was an early basic weight 
denomination. It's an oversimplification 
of many variations of standards, but we 
could think of 3,000 shekels (staters) 
= 60 Minae = 1 Talent, and 1 stater 
as equal to 2 drachms. Hence the 
tetradrachm pieces shown here were 
equal to two staters. Electrum 
consisted of about 73 percent gold and 
27 percent silver and was valued at 
10:1 in relation to silver. The same 
weight standard was thus easily usable 
for both metals, so that one electrum 
stater or tetradrachm would equal ten 
silver staters or tetradrachms. Gold 
was more complicated because it had 
a 13.1:1 relationship to silver. 

The first coins were merely equivalent 
weights of metal lumps hammered 
more or less flat between two 
unengraved die punches. This 
technique, which accounts for their 
irregularities, remained the standard 
method for at least 1 ,500 years. But 
artistic treatment emerged very early 
in the form of an engraved image 
(called type) on the lower die, which 
produced the obverse or face of the 
coins. The reverse side had only an 
incuse, a rough indentation from the 
punch. 

In the beginning the types were 
animals, which probably had sacred 
significance as well as special local 
import for the town issuing the coins. 
Only later was the image of a divinity 
especially important to the town used. 



22 



BULLETIN OCTOBER 1971 



Its purpose was not only to Identify 
the origin of thie coin but also to 
impress the users that an 
unimpeachable witness vouched for its 
full weight and purity. In fact, a vestige 
of the tradition is still with us, for our 
own coins assert "In God We Trust." 
These silent invocations did not 
identify the value of the coins, 
whatever Aristotle meant (the 
translation is a little ambiguous). They 
"marked" the value of coins only in 
the sense of an intended guarantee of 
full value. 

But neither forgeries nor debasement 
were prevented by such devices. Some 
of the specimens on display show how 
wary ancient bankers made their 
test cuts to be sure the coins were 
pure through and through. In fact, 
there is evidence that in Roman times 
debasement was sometimes so 
institutionalized that mintmasters had to 
earn their pay by producing a certain 
proportion of coins that were merely 
silver-plated over a copper core. 

The first European Greek city-state to 
establish coinage was Aegina, in the 
late 7th century B.C. The early 
example shown here has the 
smooth-backed sea turtle emblem, an 
animal sacred to Aphrodite, whose 
temple overlooked the harbor of Aegina. 
One of her most important 
responsibilities was to function as 
goddess of trade. Aegina's coins 
became the internationally accepted 
currency of trade throughout the 
Peloponnese until Athens took 
possession of the island during the 
Peloponnesian War. 

Athens' coinage, established about 
575 B.C., was the first to use a type 
on both sides and also the first to use 
a human head to identify a god. The 
"almond" eye of Athenia in profile on 
the obverse side of the specimen 
shown here is a mark of the Archaic 
period. The owl on the reverse side 
was as much the emblem of the city 
as was their patron goddess; it 
represented the Athenian god of the 



night, the originals of which lived in 
the hills around the city. Next to the 
owl the first three letters of the city's 
name can be faintly distinguished. 
These emblems persisted in Athenian 
coinage down to the time of Augustus, 
though the style of representation 
changed. The Athenian "owls" 
challenged and replaced the Aeginetan 
"turtles" as the pre-eminent 
international currency. 

A lion downing a bull was the 
constant — and appropriate — emblem of 
the city of Acanthus in Macedonia, for 
according to Herodotus this area had 
many lions and wild bulls. Even 
camels in Xerxes' expeditionary forces 
against the Greeks were attacked by 
lions in this district. The reverse side 
of the example shown here has the 
quartered-square incuse that this city's 
coins retained until late in the 5th 
century B.C. 

The tetradrachm of Clazomenae with 
its high-relief three-quarter-view head 
of Apollo on the obverse and 
spread-winged swan on the reverse 
side is a choice example of the high 
artistic level Greek coins reached 
during the 4th century B.C. The die 
engraver, Theodotos, signed his work, 
though it is not legible on this 
specimen. Of the only twenty 
specimens of this coin known to exist, 
two are in the British Ivluseum, and 
now one in Field IVIuseum. 



Elizabeth lounger is associate editor ol the 
Field Museum Bulletin. 






BULLETIN OCTOBER 1971 



23 




Brenton Reported Missing 

Francis Brenton, who soloed the Atlantic 
three times, twice in dugout canoes, has not 
been heard from since leaving on his latest 
venture. The writer-photographer sailed from 
Portsmouth, Virginia on March 22 bound for 
Portsmouth, England. His craft was a 
catamaran, the Sarape, made of two 
decked-over dugout canoes. The U.S. Coast 
Guard has called off the alert for him 
because of the time that has elapsed. 

Brenton returned from South America early 
this year with more than 100 artifacts 
collected for the Museum while exploring 
the jungles along the Amazon and Orinoco 
Rivers. 

In 1967, after a 107-day voyage that had 
begun at Trepassey, Newfoundland, he was 
unwillingly rescued by a Russian ship, just 
30 miles from his destination, the African 
coast. 

Resourceful Brenton has made it 
successfully through many difficult situations 
in the past. When necessary, he existed on 
a diet of barnacles and seaweed during long 
voyages. He is an excellent sailor. 

We hope that we have news that he is safe 
and well soon. 

Backyard Safari 

Field Museum, the Chicago Board of 
Education, and WBBM-TV are cooperatively 
producing a 39-week series of natural 
history television programs for young 
Chicago viewers. "Backyard Safari" can be 
seen each Sunday, 8:00 - 8;30 a.m. on 
Channel 2. The programs focus on the 
natural history of the Chicago area and 
encourage viewers to enjoy studying 
natural history "in their own backyard." 

Program host is Dr. Leonard Reiffel, CBS 
science consultant. Appearing on the show 
each week with Dr. Reiffel are a special 
guest — often a Field Museum scientist — and 
two science students from Chicago schools. 



AAA Short Courses 

The first in a series of short courses for 
college teachers on a broad range of 
subjects will be presented at Field Museum 
on October 28 and 29, sponsored by the 
American Association for the Advancement 
of Science. The opening courses are 
Thermodynamics and Biology and Human 
Affairs. Other courses will be offered in 
two-day sessions in November and 
December. 

Supported by the National Science 
Foundation, the program is open to college 
teachers in the natural and social sciences, 
mathematics, and engineering from two or 
four year degree-granting institutions. It is 
offered at twelve field centers throughout 
the country. The courses consist of an 
initial session of two days of intensive 
lectures and discussions, followed by 
approximately three months for individual 
study, and a final two-day session in 
February and March, 1972. 

For further information contact the Museum's 
Department of Education. 

de la Torre Appointed Head of 
Mammals 

Dr. Luis de la Torre has been appointed 
curator and head of the Division of 
Mammals in the Museum's Department of 
Zoology. Prior to this appointment he was 
professor in the Department of Oral 
Anatomy at the University of Illinois Medical 
Center, but he has also been associated 
with our Division of Mammals for twenty 
years. Dr. de la Torre's research has 
covered such diverse areas as chromosome 
and DNA analysis and descriptive taxonomy. 



Young Visitor 




Nine-year-old Kevin Dye, who managed to survive 
during the 11 days he was lost in the Wyoming 
wilderness, came to Field Museum recently to see 
the animals and birds in the collections. He is 
shown with his parents, Mr. and Mrs. Phillip Dye of 
Casper, Wyoming, as they visited Malvina Hoffman's 
sculpture of the Vedda Man from Ceylon. Kevin 
was in Chicago for a week of testing by medical 
specialists. 



$25,000,000 Capital Campaign 

Field Museum has launched a three-year 
capital campaign to fund a $25-million major 
improvement program. These funds are 
needed to maintain and modernize the 
Museum's fifty-year-old building, revise and 
renovate exhibit areas, install new and 
relevant exhibits, and improve visitor service 
and educational facilities. The full story of 
the capital campaign is told in "More About 
Field Museum, or Why We Need 
$25,000,000" beginning on page 9 of this 
issue of the Bulletin. 




Jade Ball 
November 5 



Field Museum's Women's Board members are busy planning a gala Jade Ball on 
November 5 to Inaugurate the soon-to-open "John L. and Helen Kellogg Hall." 
housing the Museum's famous collection of Chinese iades. Mrs. Edward F. Swift, 
vice-chairman of the decorations committee, and Mrs. Thomas E. Donnelley II, 
chairman of the Jade Ball committee, unpack some of the beautiful Chinese lanterns 
lust received from Singapore and Hong Kong that will be part of the exciting 
setting for the event. Tickets are $50 per person and reservations may be made 
by phoning or writing the Women's Board. 



24 



BULLETIN OCTOBER 1971 



CALENDAR 



9 a.m. to 5 p.m. Saturday through Thursday, and 
9 a.m. to 9 p.m. Friday. 

The Museum Library Is open 9 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. 
Monday through Friday. Please obtain pass at 
reception desk, main floor north. 



Exhibits 

Continuing 

Color in Nature, an exhibit examining the 
nature and variety of color in the physical 
and living world, and how it functions in 
plants and animals. It focuses on the many 
roles of color, as in mimicry, camouflage, 
warning, sexual recognition and selection, 
energy channeling, and vitamin production, 
using Museum specimens as examples. 
Continues indefinitely. Hall 25. 

The Afro-American Style, From the Design 
Works of Bedford-Stuyvesant, an exhibit of 
textiles blending classical African motifs 
and contemporary design. The original Field 
Museum Benin artifacts which inspired many 
of the designs are also shown. Financial 
assistance for the exhibit was received from 
the CNA Foundation, Chicago, and the 
Illinois Arts Council, a state agency. 
Through December 31. Hall 9. 

Jotin James Audubon's elephant folio, The 
Birds 0/ America, on display in the North 
Lounge. A different plate from the rare, 
first-edition volumes is featured each day. 

Field Museum's 75tli Anniversary Exhibit 

continues indefinitely. "A Sense of Wonder" 
offers thought-provoking prose and poetry 
associated with physical, biological, and 
cultural aspects of nature; "A Sense of 
History" presents a graphic portrayal of the 
Museum's past; and "A Sense of Discovery" 
shows examples of research conducted by 
Museum scientists. Hall 3. 

Rare Ancient Numismatic Collection, a 

highly important group of four Greek silver 
coins from the sixth and fourth centuries 
I B.C. and two Roman medallions from the 
s' third and fourth centuries A.D., on display 
in the South Lounge through November 7. 
They are part of a collection donated to 
Field Museum by Jon Holtzman of Madison, 
Wisconsin, and Paul Holtzman of Las Vegas, 
Nevada. 



Children's Programs 

Continuing 

"Between the Tides," Fall Journey for 
Children, takes them hunting for exotic and 
beautiful sea creatures in the Museum 
exhibit areas. All youngsters who can read 
and write are welcome to join in the activity. 
Journey sheets are available at Museum 
entrances. Through November 30. 



Film Program 

Free Natural History Film "Patterns for 
Survival" (A Study of Mimicry) presented at 
1 1 a.m. and 1 p.m. on Saturdays and 1 1 
a.m., 1 p.m., and 3 p.m. on Sundays in the 
second floor Meeting Room. The half-hour 
film offers an overall view of protective 
coloration in insects and provides visitors 
with an insight into the "Color in Nature" 
exhibit. Continues indefinitely. 

Fall Film-Lecture Series, 2:30 p.m. 
Saturdays in the James Simpson Theatre. 

October 16: "Norse Adventure," narrated 
by Hjordis Kittel Parker. A film history of 
Norway from the ice Age through the Viking 
Period and up to the present time. Highlights 
include the flora and fauna of Spitzbergen, 
near the North Pole; the home life of a 
modern Oslo family; and scenes of the 
magnificent fjords. 

October 23: "Our Glorious National Parks," 

narrated by Edward M. Brigham, Jr. A film 
commemorating the creation of the first 
national park in 1872. It emphasizes the 
need for the protection of wildlife and 
natural wonders. Some of the parks shown 
are Yellowstone, Glacier, Mesa Verde, 
Petrified Forest, Grand Canyon, Rainbow 
Bridge, Zion, Yosemite, and Brice. 

October 30: "Ecuador and Darwin's 
Galapagos," narrated by Hugh Pope. This 
unusual film visits Quito, where quaint 
Spanish traditions abound, the jungles of 
the Oriente Province, and the Colorados 
Indians; it then travels six hundred miles off 
the mainland of Ecuador to the fabulous 
Galapagos Islands, where penguins, giant 
tortoises, marine iguanas, and other unique 
creatures roam unafraid. 



Tn»t*«t ot Field Museum 

Harry 0. Bercher 
Bowen Blair 

William McCormick Blair 
William R. Dickinson, Jr. 
Thomas E. Donnelley II 
Marshall Field 
Nicholas Galltzine 
Paul W. Goodrich 
Remick McDowell 
Hugo J. Melvoin 
J. Roscoe Miller 
William H. Mitchell 
Charles F. Murphy, Jr. 
Harry M. Oliver. Jr. 
Life Trustee* 
Joseph N. Field 
Clifford C. Gregg 
Samuel Insull, Jr. 
William V. Kahler 



John T. PIrle, Jr. 
John S Runnells 
William L. Seatie 
John M. Simpson 
Edward Byron Smith 
Mrs. Edward Byron Smith 
Mrs. Hermon Dunlap Smith 
John W. Sullivan 
William G. Swartchlld, Jr. 
E. Leiand Webber 
Julian B. Wilkins 
J. Howard Wood 
Blaine J. Yarrlngton 



Hughston M. McBaIn 
James L. Palmer 
John G. Searle 
Louis Ware 



November 6: "As an Artist Sees Spain," 

narrated by Franklyn Carney. A film journey 
to the Prado Museum, El Greco's Toledo, 
and colorful cities and gardens. 

November 13: "Camera Safari to Africa," 

narrated by Col. John D. Craig. A film tour 
of important game parks to see the wildlife 
and scenic wonders. 

November 20; "The Two Worlds of Berlin," 

narrated by Arthur F. Wilson. A timely 
biographical sketch on film of a city and its 
people from World War II to the present. 

November 27: "Micronesia," narrated by 
C. P. Lyons. A film story about a group of 
tiny islands in the Western Pacific and the 
colorful people who still retain their 
picturesque customs and traditions. 



Meetings 

October 12: 7:45 p.m., Nature Camera Club 
of Chicago. 

October 12: 8 p.m., Chicagoland Glider 
Council. 

October 13: 7:30 p.m.. Windy City Grotto, 
National Speleological Society. 

October 14: 8 p.m., Chicago Mountaineering 
Club. 

October 17: 2 p.m., Chicago Shell Club. 



A Reminder 

Visits to Field Museum earlier in the day are 
recommended for Sundays when Chicago 
Bears home games are scheduled in Soldier 
Field. 

Because of the afternoon games, the 
Southeast parking facilities will be filled, and 
the North lot reserved for Museum guests 
undoubtedly strained to capacity. 

Dates are: October 10 and 31, November 7, 
14 and 21, and December 19. 



\ 



^ 



rsr 




BULLETIN 



Volume 42, Number 10 
November 1971 




Cover; Taken from rubbing from Wu family shrine, 
Shantung Province, Latter Han Dynasty (AD. 
25-220), depicting reception of King Mu by 
Hsi-wang Mu, the legendary mother queen of the 
west. She dwells in the K'un-lun Mountains and has 
within her power the gift of Immortality. Enlarged 
facsimile of rubbing is in the new Hall of Jades. 



2 Jade in Chinese Culture 

Louise Yuhas 

a discussiofi of the significance and uses of jade in 
China since Neolithic times is illustrated by pieces in 
Field Museum's fine collection, which spans 4,000 years 

12 Is it Really Jade or Not? 

Edward J. Olsen 

a mineralogist explains why this is not an easy question 

to answer 

14 Mid-SI(y Charming Girls 

Virginia Straub 

aerial music from flutes attached to the tails of pigeons 

used to delight the Chinese 

1 6 Field Briefs 

Calendar 



Field Museum of Natural History 

Director, E. Leiand Webber 

Editor Joyce Zibro; Associate Editor Elizabeth Munger; Staff Writer Madge Jacobs; Production Russ Becker; Ptiotography John Bayalis, 

Fred Huysmans. 

The Bulletin is published monthly except August by Field Museum of Natural History, Roosevelt Road at Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, Illinois 
60605. Subscriptions: $6 a year; $3 a year for schools. Members of the Museum subscribe through Museum membership. Opinions expressed 
by authors are their own and do not necessarily reflect the policy of Field Museum. Unsolicited manuscripts are welcome. Application to mail 
at second-class postage rates is pending at Chicago, Illinois. Postmaster: Please send form 3579 to Field Museum of Natural History, 
Roosevelt Road at Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, Illinois 60605. 



BULLETIN NOVEMBER 1971 



BULLETIN NOVEMBER 1971 



Jade in Chinese Culture Louise Yuhas 



Hundreds of the choicest pieces in 
Field Museum's exceptional collection 
of Chinese jade carvings are again on 
view as of November 10. That is the 
opening date of the new jade room, 
called the John L. and Helen Kellogg 
Hall of Jades. This new permanent 
exhibition was fnade possible by a 
generous gift from Mrs. Kellogg in 
memory of her husband. 

The old jade hall was closed in 1969 
to permit redocumentation of many 
pieces based on new archaeological 
data which made more accurate dating 
possible. 

The foundation of the Museum's 
collection was laid by Dr. Berthold 
Laufer, a major figure in the early 
study of jade and jade carving and 
chief curator of the Department of 
Anthropology from 1915 to 1934, on 
two separate expeditions to China — the 
Mrs. T. B. Blackstone Expedition of 
1908-1910 and the Captain Marshall 
Field Expedition in 1923. The largest 
single addition was the Bahr Collection, 
acquired in 1926. Its purchase was 
made possible by a large contribution 
mainly from Mrs. Frances Gaylord 
Smith, who also bequeathed to the 
Museum her important collection of 
jades of the Ch'ing Dynasty and 
modern period. Many other people have 
also added fine pieces to the collection. 

To mark this new exhibition of our jade 
treasures, a brief review is presented 
of the role of jade in Chinese culture 
from the Neolithic period down to 
modern times. 

All of the objects pictured are among 
those on exhibit in the new hall, along 
with Chinese porcelains, bronzes, 
scrolls, rubbings, and ceramics. 

Though several cultures have carved 
jade at one time or another, the Chinese 
raised the craft to its greatest height 
in a tradition spanning all that nation's 
history from the Neolithic period to the 
present. The position of jade in 
Chinese culture can only be compared 
with that of gold in the West. Just as 



Jade carving is one of China's oldest continuous traditions, spanning over 4,000 years. The eariiest 
carvings were made during the Neolithic period, which flourished In China — especially northern 
China around the Yellow River — for several thousand years, ending about 1500 B.C. Jade was then 
one of the hardest materials known, and Neolithic Chinese carved their weapons and tools in it. 

Tfie jade disk shown opposite is called a pi. Its function in Neolithic times is uncertain, but 
gradually the pi became accepted as a symbol of heaven and was used both in religious ceremony 
and for burial with the dead. 

When the use of bronze became widespread in China's first historical period, the Shang Dynasty 
(c. 1500-1050 B.C.), jade was no longer essential for tools and weapons and became ceremonial 
In function. 







Shang motifs are almost all animal-like forms. Many carvings combine human and bird 
characteristics, for the Shang people, whose religion may have been animistic, traced their origins 
to a mythical bird. Although the small carvings shown here were buried with the dead, it is likely 
that they were worn during the life of their owners. Some are perforated pendants or appliques. 
The fish, traditionally the symbol of wealth and fertility, is one of the most common types of 
burial carvings. The small dragon bears bovine horns; its typical Shang eye hooks sharply 
downward at the inner corner. Although most Shang carvings are very stylized, some, such as the 
alligator here, combine formalized heads with naturalistic bodies. Top, fish; left, crested bird; 
right, dragon, alligator. 



BULLETIN NOVEMBER 1971 



gold and jewels — the most precious of 
materials to Western eyes — were 
thought to be most suitable for 
religious and courtly objects like 
chalices, sceptres, reliquaries, and 
crowns, so also jade was treasured by 
the Chinese, who fashioned it into the 
paraphernalia of their ceremony and 
religion. Jade has also tal<en a role in 
the Chinese language analogous to the 
role of gold in European imagery: 
heart of jade, tree of jade (handsome 
young man), and wheel of jade (the 
moon) are common metaphorical 
expressions. The chief deity of the 
Taoist religion is Yu-huang-ta-ti, the 
Great Jade Emperor. 

One reason for this, of course, is the 
beauty of the stone itself. The qualities 
peculiar to jade were sometimes 
compared to the characteristics of the 
man of virtue. A lexicon compiled in 
the 2nd century A.D. defines jade as 
follows: 

Jade is the fairest of stones. It is endowed 
with five virtues. Charily is typified by its 
lustre, bright yet warm; rectitude by its 
translucency, revealing the color and 
markings within; wisdom by the purity and 
penetrating quality of its note when the 
stone is struck; courage in that it may be 
broken but cannot be bent; equity, in that it 
has sharp angles which yet injure none. 

The Li Chi, a bool< attributed to 
Confucius but probably written during 
the Han Dynasty (206 B.C.— A.D. 220), 
quotes the master explaining to a 
disciple why the superior men of former 
times valued jade over all other stones. 
He begins by saying that it is not 
because of the rarity of jade, but 
because of the analogies between the 
luster, strength, soft angles, musicality, 
and translucency of jade and the 
Confucian virtues of benevolence, 
intelligence, righteousness, propriety, 
and loyalty. He goes on: 
. . . with an Intense radiance issuing from It 
on every side — like good faith; bright as a 
brilliant rainbow — like heaven; exquisite 
both in the hills and in the streams — like 
the earth; standing out conspicuous as a 
symbol of rank — like the path of truth and 
duty . . . That is why the superior man 
esteems it so highly. 





The Chou Dynasty was the longest in Chinese history, lasting over 800 years, from 1122-770 B.C. 
(Western) and 770-249 B.C. (Eastern). The Western or Early Chou period was in many respects a 
continuation of the Shang, particularly in bronze casting and jade carving. Most surviving jades of 
the Early Chou are small amulets associated with burial which continue the Shang style, such as 
the bovine head and rabbit shown here. The rabbit was associated with immortality as well as 
fertility and was thought to live in the moon, pounding out the elixir of immortality from jade. 

One notable difference in the carving of the Early Chou and the Shang is greater naturalism in the 
Early Chou jades. Clearly identifiable animal heads replace composite masks. 




The fashioning of ceremonial blades remained an important occupation of the jade carver in Chou 
times. In general, the forms are continuations of the Shang blades, ultimately derived from 
Neolithic prototypes, such as the adze and chisel types and rectangular knife blades. Tliey 
probably served as emblems of court rank. Above: Early Chou ritual blade. 





During the Middle Chou, a period of warfare and chaos, all of the arts suffered a loss of skill and 
fineness. Surviving jades from this period reveal a change from the intense perfection of Shang 
detail to large, cumbersome forms with less surface decoration. However, lapidaries were 
producing some attractive decorative beads and buttons which anticipate the Late Chou 
renaissance. The jade used is of finer quality than that used to carve larger ceremonial objects, 
and the surface carving is skillful. Left to right: button; bead. 



BULLETIN NOVEMBER 1971 



This process of forming analogies 
carries with it a slight flavor of 
rationalization, justifying the love of a 
beautiful material within the strict code 
of Confucian standards. But it is these 
qualities of jade, whatever their external 
associations, which give jade its 
immediate sensual appeal. 

The Chinese reverence for jade Is also 
due to the length of the history of jade 
carving in China, giving it the appeal 
of a venerable tradition. By the 5th 
century B.C., when Confucius is said to 
have given the description of jade 
quoted above, jade had already 
occupied a position of importance for 
more than a thousand years. The 
Neolithic Chinese, the founders of the 
jade-carving tradition, made tools and 
weapons from it, valuing it for its 
toughness and hardness — for its 
functional qualities — rather than for its 
esthetic appeal. When metals were 
introduced, jade was gradually 
displaced by bronze as the best 
material for tools and weapons, and by 
the 11th century B.C. it had become a 
sacred material, used exclusively for 
ritual purposes and valued for its 
beauty, rarity; and expense. As these 
rituals in turn died out, jade underwent 
another transformation and by the 3rd 
century B.C. had become primarily a 
luxury item, carved into jewelry and 
decorative objects. The following 3rd 
century B.C. poem from the Ch'u Tz'u, 
translated by David Hawkes, and 
reproduced in the new jade hall, shows 
how the Chinese had come to use jade. 

On a lucky day with an auspicious name, 
Reverently we come to delight the Lord on 

High. 
We grasp the long sword's haft of lade, 
And our girdle pendants clash and chime. 
Jade weights fasten the god's jeweled mat. 

The god has halted, swaying, above us. 
Shining with a persistent radiance. 
He is going to rest in the House ot Lite. 
His brightness is like the sun and moon. 
He yokes to his dragon car the steeds of 

God. 
Now he flies to wander round the sky. 
The god had fust descended in bright 

majesty. 
When off in a whirl he soared again, far into 

the clouds. 



During the latter part of the Chou Dynasty feudal warfare ravaged the country. Paradoxically, the 
political breakdown triggered tremendous creativity in political, social, and artistic theories. 
During this period China's two major philosophical systems — Confucianism and Taoism — evolved. 

Iron tools replaced bronze and stone, malting possible much more ambitious jade carvings. Jades 
of this period show sophistication and proficiency of technical skill never before realized. 
Ceremonial blades and undecorated pi disks completely disappeared, and jade became popular for 
decorative and utilitarian objects, such as the hilt guard shown here. 




The ts'ung is one of the most problematical ritual Jades. It has traditionally been identified as the 
symbol of the earth. Among the modern theories of its origin are suggestions that the ts'ung was 
the sighting tube on which astronomical instruments were rotated; that it was a tube for storing 
ancestral records; that it was a phallic symbol; and that its form was derived from the wheel nave 
of a chariot: Below: two ts'ung forms from Chou period. 





BULLETIN NOVEMBER 1971 



However, its beauty and its associations 
with ancient ritual made it an unusual 
and nonfrivolous kind of luxury item. 
By ttie time the Han Dynasty was 
established, jade had developed its 
own mythology. The bodies of the 
dead were dressed with jade to prevent 
decomposition, and immortality was 
thought to be assured by placing jade 
amulets in the tomb. This association 
of jade and death may have stemmed 
from the Neolithic practice of placing a 
man's possessions, some of them 
made of jade, in his grave with him. A 
body of legends grew up: for example, 
that the elixir of immortality could be 
distilled from jade, or that eating jade 
would produce both immortality and 
the power to make oneself invisible 
and able to fly. In addition, the Isles of 
the Immortals were said to produce 
trees and flowers of jade, the most 
famous of which were the peaches of 
Immortality. These and other legends 
provide much of the subject matter of 
Han Dynasty and later jade carvings. 

Another factor contributing to the high 
value of jade in Chinese eyes is its 
intrinsic rarity and expense. No source 
for the stone has ever been found in 
China proper; it therefore must have 
been imported, even in Neolithic 
times. This fact, combined with the 
difficulty of carving it, has made all but 
the smallest jade object into a luxury 
item, reserved for the court and the 
well-to-do. 

These qualities of beauty, antiquity, 
ritual usage, legend, expense, and 
difficulty of carving all combine to 
make jade the "fairest of stones," 
more precious to the Chinese than 
gold, more cherished than diamonds. 

The English word "jade" comprises 
two distinct minerals, nephrite and 
jadeite. The Chinese word yu refers 
primarily to nephrite but can indicate 
any fine stone which has some of the 
same qualities. Nephrite is the form of 
jade traditionally carved by the 
Chinese. Jadeite, familiar to the 
Western world through its use in 




Elaborate myths, many of which have survived among the people ot China down to the present 
day, provided subject matter for many Late Chou carvings. Dragons, the most important of the 
spirits, inhabited water and clouds and controlled the rains. The half-disk shown here depicts 
dragons in the clouds. 





With the founding of the Han Dynasty (206 B.C.-A.D. 220), following the short-lived Ch'in Dynasty 
(221-206 B.C.), China entered her first imperial age. Her borders were extended into Central Asia 
and Korea, and Buddhism was introduced through contacts with India. 

In this strongly imperialistic and militaristic age, jade continued to be a popular material for 
decorating swords and scabbards. The archer, meanwhile, used a jade thumb ring to protect his 
thumb from the bowstring. Belthooks, belt rings, and studs of jade l>ecame popular. The use of 
seals came into vogue and many were made of jade. 

The ancient (s'ung and pi forms reappeared. The pi, often decorated with floral or dragon molils, 
lost the ritual austerity of its prototype. 

Jade continued to be used in funeral rites in Han times. The bodies of the dead were covered 
with shrouds sewn with jade plaques and jade was placed in the apertures of the body to prevent 
decomposition. The tomb was generally furnished with models of animals, servants, and whole 
households, to accompany the soul of the deceased in his journey to the afterworld. These burial 
carvings show an increased realism and feeling for sculpture in the round over traditional flat plaques. 

Religious Taoism which produced much of China's rich mythology also flourished in the Han 
Dynasty. Above, left to right: old man, traditionally identified as Taoist immortal; sword guard; 
duck (burial carving). 



6 



BULLETIN NOVEMBER 1971 



jewelry, was not used in China until 
the late 18th century. 

The mineral properties of nephrite and 
jadeite differ significantly. While 
nephrite is a calcium-magnesium 
silicate belonging to the amphibole 
group, jadeite is a sodium-aluminum 
silicate belonging to the pyroxene 
group. Although both minerals are 
crypto-crystalline in structure, nephrite 
is formed of short interlocking fibers, 
while jadeite is an aggregate of small 
grains. Jadeite is harder, but nephrite, 
because of its fibrous structure, is 
more difficult to work. 

Although it sometimes requires the eye 
of an expert or the tools of a 
geologist's laboratory to tell whether a 
specimen is nephrite or jadeite, the two 
minerals can often be distinguished 
more simply, by color, hardness, and 
texture. Jadeite takes on a smooth, 
glassy sheen when polished, while 
nephrite, because of its fibrous 
structure, has a slightly uneven surface 
called "tangerine-skin" texture, and 
takes on a waxy rather than a glassy 
sheen. Jadeite is also hard and glassy 
to the touch; nephrite feels slightly oily 
and seems softer and warmer. Hard, 
bright colors, particularly green, are 
characteristic of jadeite, while the 
colors of nephrite tend to be softer 
shades of green, brown, and white. 

Pure jade, whether nephrite or jadeite, 
is white. The wide range of possible 
colors, which span the spectrum from 
white to black, is due to compounds of 
iron, manganese, and chromium in the 
stone. The most common colors are 
whites, greens, and browns; reds, 
yellows, blues, lavenders, and blacks 
also occur. The bright "apple green" 
common in modern jade jewelry 
occurs only in jadeite. 

External conditions may also affect 
jade colors. Stones which have lain in 
the open or in river beds for long 
periods often acquire a "skin" of 
brown due to weathering. Jades buried 
close to colored objects may absorb 



During the second century A.D. the power of the Han rapidly declined; eunuchs and warlords 
gained sway at court while peasants revolted in the countryside. The fall of the last Han emperor 
in A.D. 220 was followed by over three centuries of chaos and barbarian invasion, known as the 
"periods of the Three Kingdoms and Six Dynasties." It was a time of artistic and literary 
florescence, similar in many ways to the Late Chou Dynasty. Great advances were made In prose 
writing and landscape painting. At the same time, however, the art of Jade carving fell into decay, 
partly because tribal unrest along China's western frontiers had cut off the flow of Jade from 
distant Khotan. 

Jades in the style of the Six Dynasties tend to be small in size and secular in function. Figurines 
in the round are among the most common forms. The two small boys shown liere originally 
formed part of sets of entertainer figurines used as tomb furnishings 




The 1,500 years between the end of Han and the 18th century are known as the "dark ages" ot 
jade. They are called "dark ages" because very little excavation has been done on sites of this 
period, with the result that few jade carvings can be accurately dated. In general, attributions to 
Six Dynasties, T'ang, Sung, or Ming are provisional. 

The T'ang Dynasty (618-906) was one of the great periods of Chinese history. The empire was 
greatly expanded and trade was carried on with India and the Near East, while Chinese 
missionaries spread Buddhism to Korea and Japan. Tomb sculpture reached its height in the 
T'ang, and tombs were filled with ceramic models of entire armies, exotic animals, and foreigners. 




The dragon and phoenix, which appear on the slit ring here, were popular symbols in the T'ang. 
They represent the powers of yin and yang. Tfie dragon is yang, the male principle, the bright, 
positive force, and therefore the emperor. The phoenix is yin, the female principle, the dark, 
negative force, the earth, and therefore the empress. The two together produce and sustain all life. 



BULLETIN NOVEMBER 1971 



some of the color. The color of 
nephrite can also be altered by 
burning. When heated to 1025° C. it 
turns into a yellowish-white opaque 
substance. As this color is similar to 
that of jade which has become 
leached through long burial (called 
"chicken-bone white"), burning is often 
used to simulate an antique 
appearance. Burning usually produces 
fine cracks on the surface which can 
be used to distinguish it from leached 
nephrite, but the best test is the X-ray 
diffraction method, which reveals the 
changes in mineral structure created 
by burning. 

One of the most interesting facts about 
jade has already been mentioned — 
that it has apparently never been 
found in China proper. The nearest 
known source of nephrite is around 
Khotan in Sinkiang Province in the far 
west of China and about 1,500 miles 
from the center of Chinese culture in 
the Yellow River Valley. Thus the 
Neolithic Chinese — probably the first 
Chinese to work jade — must have 
obtained it through contact and trade 
with Central Asian peoples. There is no 
evidence, however, that the Chinese 
learned the craft of jade carving from 
the Central Asians. No carved jade has 
been found in the Khotan region. 

Until the end of the 18th century, 
the Chinese seem to have obtained all 
of their jade raw material from 
Khotan; thus the political relations 
between the Chinese and the Central 
Asian tribes exercised a strong 
influence on the amount of jade 
available for carving in any period. At 
the end of the 18th century a new 
source of nephrite was discovered in 
Siberia. Siberian nephrite is a dark 
green color with darker flecks and is 
often called "spinach jade." It was at 
this time also that jadeite was 
introduced from Burma. 




The T'ang Dynasty collapsed in 906 after a century of decline. China was reunited in 960 under 
the Sung (960-1279) but did not regain its former power. Prevented from imperial expansion by tfie 
Central Asian tribes, the Chinese turned inward and explored their own past. They reconstructed 
Shang and Chou ritual blades and carved jade cups, pitchers, and vases. 

But, for the most part, the small size of Sung jades reflects the shortages of jade caused by 
continuing poor relations with the Central Asians, who controlled the trade routes to Khotan. The 
Sung took a great Interest in the natural world as evidenced by the sensitive animal jade carvings 
tliat have come down to us. Many of these carvings, such as the camel shown here, have been 
worn smooth from years of handling. 

The Mongols conquered all of China in 1279, ending ttw Sung rule and establishing their own 
dynasty, the Yuan, with the capital at Peking. The dynasty lasted only until 1368 and was too brief 
to produce a distinctive jade carving style. 

The Mongols were expelled in 1368 and the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644) was established. Ming artists 
and craftsmen, while reviving Sung traditions, produced an art particularly their own. They 
frequently combined purely contemporary styles and motifs with the antique. 

Ming jades often incorporated the brown "skin" or weathered outer surface of jade pebbles into 
the carvings, as in the cup decorated with pairs of mother and baby dragons representing 
maternal love shown here. 




Jade is also found in other areas of 
the world and has been worked by 
other peoples. Although none evolved 
carving techniques and skills that could 



Ming powers went into decline in the late 16th century. In 1644 the Ming emperor accepted aid 
from the Manchu, a Northeast Asian tribe, in order to drive Chinese rebels out of Peking. The 
Manchu liberated the city but refused to return it to the Ming, installing their own ruler instead 
and establishing the Ch'ing Dynasty, which remained in power until 1912. 



8 



BULLETIN NOVEMBER 1971 



equal those of the Chinese, the Maoris 
of New Zealand, the Alaskan Eskimos, 
and the Indians of Middle America all 
carved jade and valued it highly. Only 
the Mughals in India In the 18th 
century lavished such time and 
craftsmanship on jade, creating 
elaborate carvings inlaid with precious 
stones. Even the Indian carvings, 
however, lack the sense of history and 
tradition communicated by those of 
China; they are pure luxury items with 
none of the wealth of associations that 
a Chinese jade conveys to the 
connoisseur. Nephrite has also been 
found in Wyoming and northern 
California, but it is not of gem quality. 

As we have noted, the traditional 
source of jade for the Chinese was the 
area of Khotan. Jade pebbles washed 
down from the mountains were taken 
from the riverbeds and shipped to 
China for working. This rather primitive 
method of acquiring jade was used 
exclusively until the late 18th century, 
and partially accounts for the small 
size of most early carvings. Around the 
end of the 18th century the demand 
grew for large carvings, and attempts 
were made to quarry large blocks 
directly from the mountains. One 
method was to build a fire under a 
rock face; as the rock heated up, 
cracks would form. Water was poured 
into the cracks and allowed to freeze, 
expanding the cracks and dislodging 
the block. Although wasteful, this 
method yielded larger pieces of jade 
than could be found in streambeds. A 
large jar was carved from such a 
boulder for the Ch'ien Lung Emperor 
(r. 1736-1795) and was placed in the 
Imperial Palace in Peking. This jar is 
now in the Field Museum collection. 

Once the jade had been fished from 
the streams or quarried from the 
mountains of Khotan and shipped by 
camel train to China, it was fashioned 
into a wide variety of religious and 
decorative forms. All the processes 
involved in working jade, from the 
initial cutting to the final polishing, are 
variations on a single technique: the 



The new Ch'Ing emperors adopted Chinese culture and became avid patrons of the arts. The 18th 
century was the greatest period of jade carving since the l^te Chou. Uniimited supplies of 
nephrite were avaiiabia from Khotan and Siberia, and Jadeite from Burma was Introduced. 

Items frequently carved in jade during the Ch'ing include: large seals whose inscriptions 
commemorate an event; Jade booits dedicated by tlie emperor to a deceased relative; dinnerware 
for the very wealthy; musical instruments, such as chimes, flutes, and bells; objects used in the 
study of the scholar-official, such as bars to fasten and hold handscrolls open, inlistones used for 
grinding ink, desk holders for water, boxes to hold vermillion used in applying seals, brush 
holders, and decorative desk screens; small carvings of humans and animals having symbolic 
connotations; bowls in matched pairs; snuff bottles; hairpins and dome-shaped carvings worn in 
the elaborate coiffures of Chinese noblewomen; belt hooks; pendants, toggles and knot-openers; 
thin plaques mounted as belt buckles; incense burners; and traditional ritual forms of blades 
and pi disks. 

Below, left, duck on lotus leaf connoting marital fidelity and happiness; snuff bottle depicting Lui 
Ha!, the patron of commerce, luring a greedy toad out of a well with a string of gold coins; 
right, hair ornament; cup carved to represent peach of immortality. 







BULLETIN NOVEMBER 1971 



Photos: top, cutting large block of jade with wire 
saw; telt, Initial forming of jade Into a shape using 
a cutting wheel; right, polishing a jade carving. 



abrading of the surface of the stone 
with drills and saws edged with an 
abrasive paste. The traditional abrasive 
consisted of sand or crushed garnets 
and quartz moistened with water. A 
finer powder, called pao yao, is used 
for the final polishing. In the 20th 
century the industrial abrasive 
carborundum has become popular. 

The drills, cutting wheels, polishing 
disks, and gouges are all operated in 
a rotary fashion, either mounted on a 
bow or driven by treadles. In recent 
years electricity has come into use in 
some workshops. 

It is difficult to imagine the arduous 
process traditionally used by the 
Chinese in working jade. Most early 
carvings are flat and thin, since 
pebbles and boulders were sliced up 
to get the most use from the expensive 
material. The cutting was done with a 
wire saw; two men worked the saw 
while a third fed the abrasive paste 
into the cut. In the earliest days of 
jade carving, this process was 
accomplished with stone blades not 
much harder than the jade itself. The 
cut was usually made from both sides 
toward the center, and the jade was 
broken off along the remaining narrow 
line, leaving a ridge. Cutting could also 
be done with rotary wheel blades, 
which often left identifying marks. 

Holes were formed by using hollow 
tubular drills, again in conjunction with 
an abrasive. The holes were most often 
drilled from two sides toward the center. 

After the jade had been sliced and 
shaped, decoration was incised with a 
variety of small drills and gouges. 
Modern drills are generally mounted on 
a frame and powered by a foot-treadle; 
the jade is held up to the drill and 
moved around. The finished carving is 
then polished with fine grinding wheels 
and the pao yao abrasive. 

The rarity, high price, and hardness of 
jade — the very qualities which make it 
so prized by the Chinese — also make it 




10 



BULLETIN NOVEIUIBER 1971 



difficult to work with and expensive to 
buy. For this reason a large number of 
other materials which share some of 
the qualities of jade are carved as 
substitutes. These minerals are all 
softer than jade, and cheaper, since 
they are found in China proper. The 
most common substitute materials are 
serpentine, steatite (soapstone), 
prophyllite, and glass. Far from 
despised by the Chinese, they are 
often called varieties of yu, of which 
nephrite is merely the finest type. 

These materials can generally be 
distinguished from true jade visually. 
They fend to lack the characteristic 
sheen of jade. Glass can approximate 
the appearance of jadeite but is usually 
more translucent; small bubbles can 
often be seen in the glass. Another 
simple test is to scratch the carving 
with a steel knife-blade. Steel will not 
scratch nephrite or jadeite (providing 
that the jade is not leached or badly 
weathered) but will scratch most 
substitute materials. Positive 
identification, however, can only be 
made by the X-ray diffraction method. 



Landscape scenes were popular subjects in Ch'ing Jade carvings. Scholars often appear in 
these jade landscape scenes and thus are associated with both long life and the traditional ideal 
of retreat into nature. The scene from a brush holder here of Sil>erian nephrite ("spinach jade") 
depicts scholars gathering to drinit wine and compose poetry In the mountains. 




Spurred by internal dissatisfaction and foreign support, revolts against the decadent Ch'ing 
emperors broke out, and the dynasty fell in 1912, when a republic was established. Mao Tse-tung 
gained control during the 1940s, driving out the Japanese invaders and forcing Chiang Kai-shel( 
to flee to Taiwan in 1949. 

Jade carvers were organized Into cooperatives in 1953; in 1959 there were 1,400 craftsmen in the 
Pelting Jade Studios. The introduction of the diamond point, the industrial abrasive carborundum, 
and electricity (in 1958) have facilitated the carving process and encouraged elaborate 
workmanship and hard glassy polishes. 

The making of traditional forms such as belthooks, buckles, dishes, and desk ornaments has 
continued into the modern period, but the effects of modern methods are apparent in the 
elaborate undercutting, high relief, and high polish. The large disk shown here Is one of a pair 
of desk screens carved of Siberian nephrite. An inscription on the top dates the screen to the 
reign of the Ch'ien Lung Emperor (1736-1795), but the style and treatment are modern. 



Louise Yuhas is a doctoral candidate in 
Chinese art tiistory at the University of 
Michigan. She has worked as a consultant 
to Field Museum's Department of 
Anthropology since 1969. 




Thus, tlie carving of the "fairest of stones" by the Chinese spans over 4,000 year* and conilnuM 
today, combining the use of modern materials and age-old techniques. 



BULLETIN NOVEMBER 1971 



11 



Is it 

really jade 
or not? 

Edward J. Olsen 



When questions regarding jade are 
presented to a mineralogist a number 
of small but perplexing problems arise. 
Probably the question that comes up 
most often is the one of authenticity. 
The truth is, whether a given piece of 
jade is truly jade is not a mineralogical 
question but a question of 
archaeological definition. Because the 
term jade is not a mineralogical word 
and does not have a precise 
mineralogical definition, the mineralogist 
is willing to accept anything the 
archaeologist defines as jade on the 
basis of whatever archaeological 
standards he chooses to use. Thus, as 
a whimsical example, if archaeological 
study were to turn up the heretofore 
unrecorded fact that the craftsmen of 
China have, for ten centuries, regarded 
carved green soap with the same high 
esteem as carved green rocks, and the 
Chinese refer to both with the same 
word, yu (jade), then by 
archaeological definition the green 
soap is jade also. To the mineralogist 
it doesn't matter in the least what 
archaeologists accept as jade, but the 



fact that they accept a good deal of 
different mineralogical material as jade 
makes it hard for the mineralogist 
attempting to ferret out fakes. 

First off one thing must be made clear. 
The materials accepted as jade are not 
minerals in the strict sense, but rocks. 
A rock is an aggregation of grains of 
one or more minerals. For tens of 
centuries the finest Chinese jade 
consisted of a type of rock that is 
made up almost entirely of grains of 
the mineral actinolite. Actinolite 
characteristically occurs in the form of 
needle-shaped grains. When these are 
microscopically small and tightly 
interlocked, then the actinolite rock is 
called jade. The mineral actinolite 
varies somewhat in its chemical 
composition: when it contains a 
moderate amount of iron, its color is 
medium to dark green; when it is 
completely free of iron, it is white. The 
special mineralogical name for such 
iron-free actinolite is tremolite; the 
whole range of such minerals is called 
the tremolite-actinolite series. Thus, 
this rock can range in color from dark 
green to white. Archaeologists accept 
this range of colors in these rocks 
as jade. 

It is rare for an actinolite rock to 
consist entirely of grains of only the 
one mineral. It commonly has grains of 
black magnetite, white quartz, white 
feldspar, white calcite, and even small 
amounts of green mica-like minerals. 
Some of the finest jade carvings show 
black streaks of magnetite in them. 
The question then arises, how much of 
what impurities will be tolerated and 
still permit a designation as jade? The 
answer to this is clearly an arbitrary 
matter of taste, esthetics, and tradition. 

Since this form of jade is comprised 
of microscopic interlocking needles of 
actinolite (or tremolite), what does one 
do when the needles are so large 
they are no longer microscopic? What 
does one call a pure actinolite rock in 
which the green needles are an eighth 
of an inch long and clearly visible? 
If a fine-grained actinolite rock is jade, 
why not a coarser-grained one? Again 
it is a matter of esthetics. In both 
these cases, impurities and grain-size, 
the mineralogist can offer no answer. 



About two centuries ago a new source 
of attractive green rock (also sometimes 
gray, or even blue) was discovered 
close to China in Burma. It was hard 
like jade, usually green like jade, and 
could be worked into pleasing carvings. 
Archaeological usage caused it to 
enter the ranks as jade. Mineralogically, 
however, this material is an entirely 
different rock, one composed of 
interlocking microscopic grains of a 
different mineral called jadelte. In fact, 
the mineral acquired its name because 
of the use of the rock in which 
it is found. This rock too possesses 
problems relative to acceptable 
impurities and size of mineral grains. 
Thus two materials are accepted, by 
archaeological definition, as jade. In 
the jade business these are usually 
distinguished by modifying words. The 
original actinolite rock is referred to 
as nephrite jade, and the jadeite rock 
as jadeite jade. The buyer of an 
object advertised as jade does not 
usually know which type he is getting. 
Both are jade; the value depends 
mostly on the age of the piece, 
craftsmanship, size, and archaeological 
factors. In general, the majority of 
pieces one sees sold are made from 
nephrite jade simply because it is a 
vastly more abundant rock type than 
jadeite rock in the earth's crust. 

If only these two kinds of rocks were 
ever worked as jade, mineralogical 
problems would be relatively limited to 
those mentioned earlier. But native 
craftsmen over the centuries have, 
unfortunately, not always been 
discriminating in their choices of 
materials. A large variety of other rocks 
and minerals have also been utilized: 
such green rocks as serpentinite, 
metamorphosed basaltic lavas (called 
greenstone), soapstone, hard clays, and 
such minerals as green chalcedony 
and uvarovite garnet have shown up 
in some old collections. In some cases 
the craftsman may have had it in 
mind to defraud; however, in most 
instances lack of knowledge or lack of 
discrimination led to the use of any 
workable attractive green rock or 
mineral that would take a good polish. 
In more recent times dyed glass has 
been used extensively to simulate 
jade in an obvious attempt to 



12 



BULLETIN NOVEMBER 1971 



defraud. Frequently even the seller is 
unaware he Is selling glass. A fairly 
common practice in costume jewelry is 
to mix the pieces with part of the 
object made of jade (usually nephrite) 
and part of it made from glass, 
soapstone, or serpentinite chosen 
(or dyed) to provide closely matched 
color. Thus such a piece can be sold 
as "jade," which lies just inside the 
border of truth. 

For a mineralogist to pass on the 
authenticity of a particular piece, in 
most cases it comes down to 
determining if it consists mainly of 
either actinolite or jadeite. The first 
simple test is to scratch it with a 
common steel needle. Neither of 
these materials can be scratched; 
however, "look-alikes" such as 
serpentine, soapstone, and greenstone 
are readily scratched. Unfortunately, 
chalcedony and hard lead glass are not 
scratched. These can sometimes be 
distinguished from jades by optical 
tests. A severe limitation in applying 
such a test is that it is usually not 
possible to obtain a chip of a 
specimen on which to work. A valuable 
carving cannot be sampled in a 
cavalier manrier with hammer and 
chisel. It is usually necessary to 
sample from down inside a carved 
hole or depression, or on some 
inconspicuous spot on the bottom of 
the object, if it has a bottom surface 
at all. Frequently, especially with small 
objects, the piece is fully polished on 
all sides and a sample removed from 
anywhere will ruin its appearance. 

As a general practice the quickest 
and safest method is X-ray diffraction. 
This method is based on the fact 
that each kind of mineral has a 
characteristic chemical composition 
and the atoms of the chemical 
elements are arranged in regular 
three-dimensional symmetrical patterns. 
X-rays passing through such a three 
dimensional network are diverted 
(bent) into patterns of rays that reflect 
the characteristic arrangement of the 
atoms in the mineral. Each mineral 
has, in a sense, an X-ray "fingerprint" 
which permits its definite identification. 
For large objects, a minute amount 
can be scratched from an 



inconspicuous spot and mounted for 
X-raying. Small objects often can be 
fitted directly into the X-ray sample 
holder and X-rayed as a whole, 
unscathed. Thus the real jades and the 
"look alikes" can be readily 
distinguished. In preparing objects for 
installation in the new John L. and 
Helen Kellogg Hall of Jades, over 
one hundred pieces were checked by 
X-ray. These were chosen for 
examination because of questions 
regarding their authenticity. A 
relatively small percentage turned out 
to be non-jades, and these were 
omitted from the exhibit collection. 

It would appear that the X-ray method 
solves many problems. Unfortunately, 
archaeological acceptance makes for 
other difficulties. Long ago Chinese 
noblemen frequently had nephrite jade 
objects buried with them at their 
funerals. Soil acids and moisture acted 
slowly on these objects to gradually 
alter their composition and form 
different minerals of them. This 
alteration may form only over the 
outside as a coating, or it may 
completely work its way through an 
object, especially if it is small. When 
such pieces were dug up, centuries 
later, they were found to be quite 
pleasing in appearance. They had 
become an off-white color and 
resembled polished bone material. 
These objects became prized and it is 
logical that someone should 
experiment in an attempt to learn how 
to speed up this slow alteration 
process. It was soon discovered that 
nephrite jade could be converted to 
this appearance if it were subjected 
to intense heating. Today both of these 
forms of bone jade are accepted as 
jade; however, neither one is nephrite 
jade any longer. Depending on the 
process, long-term burial or short-term 
heating, two different rocks result 
made of several entirely different 
minerals. They are, nevertheless, 
considered to be jades also. 

These altered materials complicate 
matters. Both consist of mixtures of 
several minerals in varying proportions 
depending on such factors as 
temperature and time. It is not possible 
to distinguish these rocks formed by 



the alteration of original jade from the 
same kind of rocks formed by other 
processes from original material that 
was not jade at all. Thus for these 
materials archaeological definition 
generally confounds mineralogical 
determination. 

The authentication of jade is clearly 
not as straightforward as one might 
imagine. For the majority of cases 
X-raying provides a simple and 
relatively nondestructive method. In a 
small number of cases the final 
decision will depend on what the 
archaeologist is willing to accept. 
Probably the only other material that 
raises even more difficult mineralogical 
questions regarding authenticity is 
amber. It is regrettable that once man 
attaches monetary value to a mineral 
or rock, problems are created that go 
outside the realm of the mineral 
kingdom. 



Dr. Edward J. Olsen is curator o1 mineralogy 
in the Department of Geology, Field Museum. 



BULLETIN NOVEMBER 1971 



13 



It was Barbara Tuchman's book 
Stilwell and the American Experience 
in Ctiina 1911-45 that brought to 
mind the Field Museum's collection of 
pigeon flutes and whistles. She was 
describing Stilwell's visit to Sian, 
ancient capital of the Han and T'ang 
dynasties, where he "found it hard 
to glimpse an idea of the former 
greatness of the city, but even in 
decline the people of Sian devised 
pleasures. They tied bamboo whistles 
of varying pitch to the tail feathers 
of pigeons so that when circling In 
hundreds overhead the birds made 
the sound of a flying pipe organ." 

Flying pipe organ indeed! This fanciful 
description of the small objects on 
display in our Chinese exhibit in Hall 
32 made it seem worthwhile to see 
what Dr. Berthold Laufer might have 
said on the subject when he brought 
them to the Museum. (He was then 
associate curator of East Asian 
Ethnology; later curator of the 
Department of Anthropology.) 

In the Scientific American in 1908, 
Dr. Laufer remarked on the great 
esthetic enjoyment the Chinese derived 
from the sound of this aerial music: 

... we are wont to speak of the Chinese 
as sober, practical, and prosaic people 
... but nevertheless they are by no 
means lacking in purely emotional matters 
of great attractiveness . . . [and] even 
in affairs of minor importance their soul 
reveals to us traits of poetical quality of no 
small degree . . . One of the most 
curious expressions of emotional life is the 
application of whistles to a flock of pigeons. 



mid-sky 
charming girls 

Virginia straub 




These whistles, very light, weighing hardly 
a few grammes, are attached to the tails 
of young pigeons soon after their birth, by 
means of fine copper wire, so that when 
the birds fly the wind flowing through the 
whistles sets them vibrating and thus 
produces an open-air concert, for the 
instruments in one and the same flock are 
all tuned differently. On a serene day in 
Peking, where these instruments are 




manufactured with great cleverness and 
ingenuity, it is possible to enjoy this aerial 
music while sitting in one's room. 

But East is East, and the West 
wasn't always with them. 
A. B. Freeman-Mitford had earlier 
complained in his book The Attache 
at Peking: "The Chinese certainly find 
pleasure in what are to us very 
disagreeable noises. Fancy a flight 
of pigeons with Aeolian harps tied to 
their tails! The first time I heard it 
above my head I thought something 
dreadful must be going to happen." 
He also wrote: "However, that fancy 
has a practical side to It, for it keeps 
oft the hawks which abound at 
Peking." 

Writing at about the same time, 
toward the end of the nineteenth 
century. Archdeacon John Henry Gray 
said In his book China that pigeons 
with whistles served as convoys for 
carrier pigeons: "Merchants at Hong 
Kong use them [carrier pigeons! In 
conveying news of the arrival of the 
English, French, or American mails 
to their partners in trade at Canton. 
To defend the pigeon during its flight 
from attacks on the part of falcons or 
hawks, a whistle is attached to its tail, 
and the shrill noise of this contrivance, 
as its bearer flies through the air, 
terrifies the birds of prey." 

A picture of a pigeon with a whistle 
on its tail appears with Elisha 
Hanson's article "Man's Feathered 
Friends of Longest Standing" in a 
1 926 National Geographic. Part of the 



caption reads: "When the bird flies, 
the wind blows through the whistles 
and sets them vibrating. The Chinese 
explain their love of this aerial music 
by saying that the sounds keep the 
flock together and frighten off birds 
of prey." 

Dr. Laufer didn't agree with the 
protective theory. According to him, 
"There seems . . . little reason to 
believe that a hungry hawk could be 
induced by this innocent music to 
keep aloof from satisfying his 
appetite; and this doubtless savors of 
an afterthought which came up long 
after the introduction of this usage, 
through the attempt to give a rational 
and practical interpretation of 
something that has no rational origin 
whatever . . ." He thought it was not 
the pigeon which profited from this 
practice, but merely the human ear, 
which liked to feast on the wind-blown 
tunes and derive esthetic pleasure 
from the music — "it seems to be a 
purely artistic and emotional tendency 
that has given rise to a unique 
industry and custom applied to 
nature-life." 




The esthetic theory seems to have 
got the nod also from a T. Watters, 
Esq., who wrote on "Chinese Notions 
about Pigeons and Doves" In the 
Journal of the North-China Branch of 
the Royal Asiatic Society in 1868. He 
said, "The pigeons which fly about 
with whistles attached to them are 
called pan-t'ien-chiao-jen, mid-sky 
charming girls." Dr. Laufer translated 
the term as "mid-sky beauties." 

Then we find a theory about their 
origin, which Dr. Laufer had expressed 
much earlier, in a lecture by Harned 
Pettus Hoose entitled "Peking Pigeons 
and Pigeon-Flutes," delivered in 1938 
to the College of Chinese Studies at 



14 



BULLETIN NOVEMBER 1971 




the California College in China at 
Peking. He said that the use of these 
flutes was suggested by the whistling 
arrow invented by Chinese warriors 
"countless ages ago" for signaling by 
singing as it sped through the air. 
The belief was that when the warriors 
were not fighting they amused 
themselves by fastening delicate silver 
bells on the tails of their pigeons, and 
when this metal proved to be too 
heavy, they used bamboo for flutes. 
Then squat miniature gourds were 
tried, and found to produce much 
fuller, deeper tones. When reed and 
gourd were combined and flown 
together the music was even more 
pleasing. Said Dr. Hoose: "It must 
have been about this time that a 
pigeon-flute maker made a pair of 
flutes, one smaller than the other, so 
that the female pigeon could carry the 
smaller one. To his delight, he found 
that the smaller one's note was higher 
than the larger one's. From that time 
up to the present, flutes have been 
made in pairs and are known as 
mates: male and female." 

Dr. Moose's singing arrow theory of 
origin does not include any mention of 
the musical kite, which Dr. Laufer 
also wrote about. He described it as 
a paper kite with a bamboo flute 
fastened to the head so that 
when the wind struck the holes of the flute 
. . . [itl produced sounds like those of a 
harpsichord . . . Such flutes are still . . . 
used . . . They consist of a short bamboo 
tube closed at the ends and provided 
with three apertures . . . When the kite is 
flying, the air . . . produces a somewhat 
intense and plaintive sound, which can be 
heard at a great distance. Sometimes three 
or four of these bamboo tubes are placed 



one above another over the kite, and in 
this case a very pronounced deep sound 
is produced. Imagine that hundreds of such 
kites may be released at a time and are 
hovering in the air, and there is a veritable 
aerial orchestra at play. 

According to Freeman-Mitford, the 
music of kite and pigeon was the 
same: "As the New Year approaches 
the principal amusement in the streets 
is flying kites ... In the tail of the 
kite is placed a sort of aeolian harp, 
such as I once told you the Chinese 
attach to their pigeons." 

Dr. Hoose said in 1938 that there 
were still in existence some flutes 
made by six of the most famous flute 
makers, who lived in the Ch'ing 
dynasty and "whose skill has never 
been equalled." He added, "Of 
course, none of these old masters 
made pigeon-flutes for anyone but 
themselves and certainly they never 
sold them. The business of selling 
flutes is quite modern." 

Two general types are described by 
Dr. Hoose, gourd flutes and bamboo 
flutes. "These two types are often 
combined . . . and with both types is 
used a very slender reed with which 
small supplementary flutes are made. 
The former can be made of three 
types of gourd." 

When making the flute, the top of the 
gourd is cut off, leaving a rounded 
sounding box, wi. ch is then capped by a 
part of the top that has been shaped to 
produce flute-lips. This main flute Is 
supplemented with several much smaller 
ones that are fashioned of reed, glued to 
the sides and top of the main body. 
A bone or bamboo handle is attached to the 
bottom, for the purpose of fastening the 



flute to the pigeon's tail. Throughout this 
process exact measurements are necessary 
in order to assure a correct angle against 
the wind, and a good tone. At this point, 
the artist carves his surname on the bottom 
of the flute and then paints the whole 
surface with "Chinese ink." . . . When this 
has dried, shelac is applied on both the 
inner and outer surfaces of the gourd. 
Sometimes both the male and female voices 
are combined in one flute, by cutting the 
gourd in half, inserting a cardboard 
partition, and gluing it together again. No 
gourd flute can be made larger than two 
inches across the top, as pigeons are 
incapable of carrying a flute any heavier. . . . 

The material for the bamboo flutes comes 
from South China, while the delicate reeds 
are grown outside this city IPeking]. The 
bamboo and reeds are combined in many 
arrangements, resembling the Pan-pipes or 
a pipe-organ. These flutes are attached to 
the pigeons' tails by a holder at the bottom, 
and a thread sewn through, and 
perpendicular to, the bird's two middle 
tail-feathers at a point exactly a 
fore-finger's distance from the bird's body. 
The holder is thrust through the space 
between the thread and the bird's body, 
and is held in place by a small wire ring 
hung on the end of the holder after it has 
been thrust between the thread and the 
body of the bird. 

Whether this charming practice is still 
followed under the austerity of the 
People's Republic we don't know, but 
at least during World War II the flutes 
were still available. In his 1942 book 
/ Flew for China, Captain Royal 
Leonard, personal pilot for Chiang 
Kai-shek, described the town of 
Urumchi, now known as Wulumuchi, 
in Sinkiang province: "The distinctive 
quality of Urumchi lay in its sound. 
. . . The thousands of pigeons 
constantly flying overhead have 
bamboo wind whistles attached to 
their tails. Each is made to sound a 
different note; some are tremolo and 
high-pitched, others equal the deep 
bass of an organ. Most of them carry 
a large harmonized cluster of three or 
four . . ." And he also remarked: 
"According to my hobby, I picked up 
a knickknack representing a product 
for which the city was famous. . . . 
At Lanchow 1 bought pigeon 
whistles . . ." 

Now the next time Henry Kissinger 
goes to China, if he could do some 
shopping . . . 



Virginia Straub is secretary of tlie Women's 
Board, Field l^useum. 



BULLETIN NOVEMBER 1971 



15 




Archaeological Discoveries in 
Southwest 




Dr. Paul Martin holds sculpture of a bear 
discovered in a Kiva in Arizona. 

The story of the early inhabitants of the 
Southwest is gradually being unfolded 
through a series of archaeological 
excavations conducted in Hay Hollow Valley, 
Arizona by Dr. Paul S. Martin, chairman 
emeritus of anthropology at Field Museum of 
Natural History. This summer, twelve high 
ability college sophomores and juniors from 
various parts of the country participated in 
the Museum's ten-week program "New 
Perspectives in Archaeology," supported by 
the National Science Foundation. 

The sites that have been continuously 
excavated and studied during the past nine 
years are located on a 72,000 acre ranch 
near Vernon, Arizona owned by Mr. and 
Mrs. James Carter. Dr. Martin believes that 
these sites were occupied from 
approximately 1000 B.C. to 1500 A.D. 

This year, twenty-five additional rooms of a 
one-level pueblo were found, in addition to 
the twelve uncovered last year. Perhaps as 
many as thirty to fifty men, women and 
children, culturally related to the Hop!, 



occupied these dwellings. The pueblo is 
estimated to date from around 1000 or 
1100 A.D. 

While making a test trench, the 
archaeological team stumbled onto a kiva 
about 14 feet square at a level about 10 
feet below the surface. The floor of the kiva 
was inlaid with sandstone slabs to form a 
thunderbird design. 

One of the unusual discoveries this year is 
a sculpture of a bear, carved from 
reddish-brown sandstone, found on the floor 
of the kiva. Dr. Martin surmises it may have 
originally been set into a wall and could 
indicate a bear clan. Another carving found 
at the site has a concave, bowl-shaped 
surface on one side and a representation 
of a bear on the other. 

A preliminary report on this year's field 
work is being prepared by Dr. Martin and 
five staff members, which will be available 
in printed form by the end of the year. His 
contribution will be based on the philosophy 
of education, emphasizing practical and 
theoretical archaeology, which is employed 
on the "New Perspectives in Archaeology" 
program. 

Mario Villa 

Mario Villa, tanner in the Department of 
Zoology, passed away September 30. He 
was 48 and had been with the Museum 
since 1956. Mario was trained by his father, 
Dominick, who retired from the Museum's 
staff in 1961. He worked with the skins of 
animals from many parts of the wortd and 
became an expert in his field. He will be 
greatly missed. 

Gift from Museu de Angola 



Backyard Safari 

Children in the 4th, 5th, and 6th grades 
especially are invited on a "Backyard 
Safari" each Sunday at 8:00 a.m. on 
WBBM-TV (Channel 2). This unique series 
of half-hour programs focuses on the 
natural history of the Chicago area. Future 
programs will explore: November 14, Trees 
in Fall; November 21, Lake Michigan in 
Wintertime; November 28, The Chicago 
River; and December 5, Microscopic World 
of House Dust. 

"Backyard Safari" is produced 
cooperatively by WBBM-TV, the Chicago 
Board of Education, and Field Museum. 

Recent Grants 

A grant of $8,200 has been awarded Field 
Museum by the National Aeronautics and 
Space Administration for support of research 
entitled "Geochemistry of Silicate and 
Phosphate Phases in Iron Meteorites." The 
grant, to run approximately one year, will 
enable Dr. Edward J. Olsen, curator of 
mineralogy, to make a study of the chemistry 
of silicate minerals that occur in very minor 
amounts inside iron meteorites. These have 
largely been ignored over the past fifty years 
and it is believed they may yield valuable 
new information. 

The National Endowment for the Arts has 
awarded $8,000 to Field Museum for costs 
of an exhibition of aboriginal art, under the 
direction of Dr. Phillip H. Lewis, curator of 
primitive art and Melanesian ethnology. The 
exhibit, "The Art of Arnhem Land," is 
scheduled from January 20 through 
September 10, 1972. 




E. Leiand Webber, director of Field Museum (left) accepts a fiandsome Angolan mask from Dr. Mesquitela 
Lima, director of Museu de Angola, Luanda, Angola, Africa. The mask is a gift to Field Museum from tfie 
Museu de Angola. 



16 



BULLETIN NOVEMBER 1971 



CALENDAR 



Exhibits 

Opens November 10 
Chinese jades — a permanent exhibit of 
Field Museum's collection, in the John L. 
and Helen Kellogg Hall of Jades, arranged 
chronologically from the Neolithic period 
(about 2500-1500 B.C.) through the Ch'ing 
Dynasty (1644-1912 A.D.) The installation 
is made possible through a generous gift 
from Mrs. Kellogg. Porcelains, bronzes, 
ceramics, and poetry supplement the jades, 
putting them into proper historical 
perspective to show Uovi the symbolism of 
a dynastic period carried through in various 
art forms. Hall 30. 

Begins November 10 

Studies in Jade, a selection of books from 
Field Museum's library, featured in the 
South Lounge to coincide with the opening 
of the new Hall of Jades. Included are 
The Bishop Collection, Investigations and 
Studies in Jade, in two volumes, and 
Chinese Jade Carvings ol the XVIth to 
the XlXth Centuries in the Collection ol 
Mrs. Georg Vetlesen, in three volumes. On 
display through January 9, 1972. 

Continuing 

Color in Nature, an exhibit examining the 
nature and variety of color in the physical 
and living world, and how it functions in 
plants and animals. It focuses on the many 
roles of color, as in mimicry, camouflage, 
warning, sexual recognition and selection, 
energy channeling, and vitamin production, 
using Museum specimens as examples. 
Continues indefinitely. Hall 25. 

Tlie Afro-American Styie, From the Design 
Works of Bedford-Stuyvesant, an exhibit of 
textiles blending classical African motifs 
and contemporary design. The original 
Field Museum Benin artifacts which inspired 
many of the designs are also shown. 
Financial assistance for the exhibit was 
received from the CNA Foundation, Chicago, 
and the Illinois Arts Council, a state 
agency. Through December 31. Hall 9. 



Hours 

9 a.m. to 4 p.m. Saturday through Thursday: 

9 a.m. to 9 p.m. Friday; 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. Saturday 

and Sunday. 

The Museum Library Is open 9 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. 

Monday through Friday. Please obtain pass at 

reception desk, main floor north. 



Joiin James Audubon's elephant folio, 
The Birds ol America, on display in the 
North Lounge. A different plate from the 
rare, first-edition volumes is featured 
each day. 

Reid Museum's 75t>i Anniversary Exhibit 

continues indefinitely. "A Sense of Wonder" 
offers thought-provoking prose and poetry 
associated with physical, biological, and 
cultural aspects of nature; "A Sense of 
History" presents a graphic portrayal of 
the Museum's past; and "A Sense of 
Discovery" shows examples of research 
conducted by Museum scientists. Hall 3. 

Children's Programs 

Through November 30 

"Between the Tides," Fall Journey for 
Children, takes them hunting for exotic and 
beautiful sea creatures in the Museum 
exhibit areas. All youngsters who can read 
and write are welcome to join in the 
activity. Journey sheets are available at 
Museum entrances. 

Film Program 

"Queen of Cascades," free wildlife film 
offered by the Illinois Audubon Society at 
2:30 p.m., November 28, in the James 
Simpson Theatre. 

Continues indefinitely 
Free Natural IHistory Film "Patterns for 
Survival" (A Study of Mimicry) presented 
at 11 a.m. and 1 p.m. on Saturdays and 
11 a.m., 1 p.m., and 3 p.m. on Sundays 
in the second floor Meeting Room. The 



half-hour film offers an overall view of 
protective coloration in insects and provides 
visitors with an insight into the "Color in 
Nature" exhibit. 

Fail Film-Lecture Series, 2:30 p m. 
Saturdays in the James Simpson Theatre: 

November 13 — "Camera Safari to Africa," 
narrated by Col. John D. Craig. A film tour 
of important game parks to see the wildlife 
and scenic wonders 

November 20 — "The Two Worlds of Berlin," 
narrated by Arthur F. Wilson. A timely 
biographical sketch on film of a city and 
its people from World War II to the present. 

November 27 — "Micronesia," narrated by 
C. P. Lyons. A film story about a group of 
tiny islands in the Western Pacific and the 
colorful inhabitants who still retain their 
picturesque customs and traditions. 

Coming in December 

"Faces of Africa," Winter Journey for 
Children, begins December 1. Youngsters 
test their powers of observation by 
answering written questions and making 
sketches of African masks in Museum 
exhibit areas while on a self-guided tour. 
All boys and girls who can read and write 
may participate. Journey sheets are 
available at Museum entrances. Through 
February 29, 1972. 

A Reminder 

Visits to Field Museum earlier in the day are 
recommended for Sundays when Chicago 
Bears home games are scheduled in 
Soldier Field. 

Because of the afternoon games, the 
Southeast parking facilities will be filled, 
and the North lot reserved for Museum 
guests undoubtedly strained to capacity. 
Dates are: November 7, 14, and 21, and 
December 19. 



A Field Museum membership would be a special idnd of Holiday gift for some of those 
special people you want to remember at this season. They would appreciate your 
thoughtfulness not just once but all through the year. For each gift membership we will 
send an announcement greeting card in your name and portfolio of four color reproduc- 
tions of bird paintings done by the distinguished American artist Lx>uis Agassiz Fuertes 
on a Field Museum expedition to East Africa. 



Clip and mall to Flold MuMum ol Natural Hlatoiy, RooMvalt Rd. at Lak* Shor* Driva, Chicago, III. 6060S 

Please send the following Gift Membership Q Check enclosed payable to Field Museum, 

Q Annual $15 [J Associate $150 Q LHe $500 Q Please bill me as follows: 
In my name to: 



Gift recipient's nam* 



My nam* 



Address 



Address 



City State Zip City Stats 

D Send bird prints to gilt recipient G Send bird print* to me 

Please put infonnatlon for additional gift memberships on a separate sheet 



Zip 



Volume 42, Number 11 December 1971 

Field Museum of Natural History 



BULLETIN 



BULLETIN 



Volume 42, Number 11 
December 1971 




Eighteenth century engraving ol Christmas rose 
(Helleborus niger) from which cover design 
was made. 



2 The Christinas Rose 

W. Peyton Fawcett 

many legendary — and some real — powers have been 

attributed to a plant once associated with Christmas 

5 Hanukkah 

Maurice I. Kliers 

a rabbi explains the background of this Jewish 
celebration and the themes symbolized — religious 
freedom and optimism 

6 Wang Ch'uan chen chi 

Alice Schneider 

the historical significance of a prize specimen in 
Field Museum's collection of Chinese rubbings 
is discussed 

1 1 A Latin American Christmas 

Terua Williams 

a letter sharing the familiar as well as exotic 

flavor of a Christmas far from home 

12 Shall We Inherit the Whirlwind? 

John Clark 

a scientist considers what effects tampering with 

hurricanes might have on Earth's total climatic patterns 

14 Field Briefs 

16 Book Reviews 

Calendar 



Field Museum of Natural History 
Director, E. Leland Webber 

Editor Joyce Zibro; Associate Editor Elizabeth Munger; Staff Writer Madge Jacobs; Production Russ Becker; Photography John Bayalis, 
Fred Huysmans; Cover design by Samuel Grove. 

The Bulletin Is published monthly except August by Field Museum of Natural History, Roosevelt Road at Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, Illinois 
60605. Subscriptions: $6 a year; $3 a year for schools. Members of the Museum subscribe through Museum membership. Opinions expressed 
by authors are their own and do not necessarily reflect the policy of Field Museum. Unsolicited manuscripts are welcome. Printed by Field 
Museum Press. Application to mall at second-class postage rates is ponding at Chicago, Illinois. Postmaster: Please send form 3579 to Field 
Museum of Natural History, Roosevelt Road at Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, Illinois 60605. 



BULLETIN DECEMBER 1971 




BULLETIN DECEMBER 1971 



®1|0 Cl|rtstntas ^ose m, p^yton jrauic^tt 



Preserved in one of the medieval 
Nativity plays is the legend of the origin 
of a flower long associated with 
Christmas and now much less known 
than the familiar poinsettia. In the play 
a little country girl named Madelon, 
who has accompanied the shepherds 
to the manger in Bethlehem, weeps 
because she has nothing to offer the 
Christ Child. She cannot even bring 
flowers for it is winter. An Angel leads 
her into the dark night and, touching 
the cold ground, causes a flower to 
spring up and blossom — the Christmas 
rose, called also the Christmas flower, 
and Christe herbe. She fills her hands 
with the miraculous blooms and hurries 
back with her gift. From that day to 
this, according to the legend, the flower 
blooms every year at Christmas; and, 
in fact, it often does. 

The Christmas rose is a perennial, 
low-growing plant with dark, shining, 
smooth leaves. The flower-stalks, with 
their white blossoms, rise directly from 
the root. Despite the name, it is not a 
true rose but a member of the 
Ranunculaceae, or buttercup, family, 
the species of which often have flowers 
resembling the wild rose in appearance. 
It is native to the mountainous regions 
of central and southern Europe, Greece, 
and Asia Minor and is cultivated in 
this country as a garden plant. In mild 
winters the plant flowers about 
Christmastime, even in the northern 
parts of the United States. The time of 
blooming, however, depends largely 
on the weather. If the temperature is 
favorable, the first flowers may open as 
early as October or November; if not, 
they may delay opening until the first 
mild days of spring. In our Midwest 
area there are reports of gardeners 
gathering the flowers on Christmas day, 
with the thermometer hovering around 
the zero mark and the blossoms hidden 
under several inches of snow. It is more 
usual, however, to find them in spring. 



Engraving of Helleborus niger (Christmas rose) 
from Herbler Artificial, Paris, 1783. Drawn by 
Melle de St. Suire; engraved by Dupin Fils. Ttiis 
bool< is in the Sterling Morton Library. 
Morton Arboretum. 



The Morton Arboretum, Lisle, Illinois, 
has a bed of Christmas roses in its 
ground cover collection on the east side 
of its administration building and 
reports that in most years the flowers 
appear in early March. 

Ironically, the Christmas rose, with its 
pure white flowers and festal 
associations, is poisonous, as indicated 
by its scientific name, Helleborus niger 
(black hellebore). Helleborus is derived 
from two Greek words meaning "to 
kill" and "food"; niger refers to the 
plant's dark-colored root. The plant 
contains two glucosides, helleborin 
and helleborein, both powerful poisons. 
The former is a narcotic and the latter 
a highly active cardiac poison, similar 
in its effect to digitalis. Used as a drug, 
the plant possesses drastic purgative 
and anthelmintic properties but is 
violently narcotic. Consequently, it must 
be used with great care and is usually 
considered more dangerous than 
beneficial. It is occasionally used in 
the cure of dropsy and has proved 
useful in some nervous disorders and 
hysteria. It is also used in veterinary 
medicine. 

The ancient Greeks and Romans were 
well aware of the poisonous nature of 
the Christmas rose, or hellebore, and 
used it widely as a medicine. This use is 
of great antiquity and, for this reason, 
few plants are more surrounded with 
legend and superstition. Greek tradition 
holds that it was the shepherd and seer 
Melampus who first discovered its 
virtues. He supposedly lived about 
1500 B.C. and counted among his 
accomplishments the ability to 
understand the language of birds. 
Melampus traveled into Egypt to study 
the healing art and there became 
acquainted with the cathartic qualities 
of hellebore by observing its effect on 
some goats that had fed upon it. He 
used the herb to cure the three 
daughters of Proteus, King of Argos, of 
a peculiar form of madness which 
caused them to run naked in the field 
under the delusion that they were cows. 
In some versions of the story the plant 



itself was used, followed by baths in a 
cold fountain; in others, the milk of 
goats that had eaten the plant was used. 
In any event, the cure was successful, 
and for centuries thereafter hellebore 
was famous as a cure for insanity. 

It is not surprising that a number of 
superstitions grew up around a plant 
with such mysterious and magical 
powers. Pliny the Elder recorded in his 
Natural History in the first century that 
tf>e Greek rhizotomoi, or root-gatherers, 
thought it necessary to take great 
precautions in gathering hellebore: 

A circle is first traced around it with a sword, 
after which, the person about to cut it turns 
towards the East, and offers up a prayer 
entreating permission of the gods to do so. 
At the same time he observes whether an 
eagle is in sight — for mostly while the plant 
is being gathered that bird is near at hand 
— and if one should chance to fly close . . . 
it is looked upon as a presage that he will 
die within the year. 

It was also considered wise to eat 
garlic beforehand to ward off the 
poisonous fumes and to drink wine 
every now and then, with "care being 
taken to dig up the plant as speedily 
as possible." Houses were protected 
from evil spirits by being ceremoniously 
strewn or perfumed with hellebore, 
and cattle were similarly blessed to 
ward off the spells of the wicked. The 
Gauls rubbed the points of their arrows 
with it in the belief that it rendered 
the game more tender. 

The Romans at first regarded hellebore 
with horror but gradually came to 
accept it enthusiastically. Pliny wrote 
that in his time it had become "familiar" 
and was looked upon as possessing 
"mind-expanding" capabilities: 

. . . Studious men are in the habit of taking 
it for the purpose of sharpening the 
intellectual powers required by their literary 
investigations. Carneades, for instance, 
made use of hellebore when about to 
answer the treatises of Zeno. 

The hellebore of Anticyra, in the Gulf 
of Corinth, was then esteemed the best, 
and Pliny noted that Drusus, "the most 
famous of all the tribunes of the 



BULLETIN DECEMBER 1971 



people," was cured of epilepsy there. 
Its fame was such that hypochondriacal 
persons were told to "take a trip to 
Anticyra" — Horace called a hopeless 
mental case "one that not three 
Anticyras could cure." 

It should be pointed out that it was not 
necessarily Helleborus niger to which 
all these wonderful virtues were 
ascribed, for there are a number of 
species of hellebore. It is believed that 
the hellebore of the ancients may have 
been H. orientalis; but the species 
which came to be used the most for 
magical and medicinal purposes was 
H. niger, which the famous herbalist 
Parkinson called the only "true and 
right kinde." 

Black hellebore continued to be used 
down through the sixteenth and 
seventeenth centuries very much as in 
ancient times. The herbalist Gerarde 
regarded it as a cure for mania and 
wrote that "a purgation of Hellebore 
... is good for mad and furious men, 
for melancholy, dull, and heavie 
persons, and briefly, for all those that 
are troubled with black choler and 
molested with melancholy." Burton, 
in his famous Anatomy of Melancholy, 
introduces hellebore among the 
emblematical figures in his frontispiece 
with the following lines: 

Borage and Hellebore fill two scenes, 
Sovereign plants to purge the veins 
Of melancholy, and cheer the heart 
Of those black fumes which make it smart; 
To clear the brain of misty fogs, 
Which dull our senses, and soul clogs; 
The best medicine that e'er God made 
For this malady, if well assaid. 

The plant was much valued in medieval 
times and after for keeping away 
witches and evil spirits and breaking 
spells and enchantments. Cattle that 
had been bewitched or poisoned were 
cured, according to Parkinson, in the 
following way: 

A piece of root being drawne through a 
hole made in the eare . . . cureth it, if it be 
taken out the next day at the same houre. 

It was thought that hellebore could cure 
deafness caused by witchcraft and that 




Engraving of Helleborus niger (Christmas rose) by Nicoias Robert from Denis Dodard's £s(ampes pour 
Servir a I'HIstoIre des Plantes, Paris, 1701. This book is in the Sterling Morton Library, Morton Arboretum. 



It could even cure such as seemed 
possessed by the Devil and was 
therefore called Fuga Daemonum. 

It is curious to note that the celebrated 
physician Paracelsus made great use of 
hellebore. He believed that it could 
restore youth and vigor to old people 
and advised that it should be gathered 
when the moon was in one of her 
signs of conservation, dried in an east 
wind, powdered, and mixed with its 
own weight of sugar for best effect. 



We seem to have come a long way 
from the hellebore of our predecessors 
on this earth, with its magical and 
medicinal properties, to the Christmas 
rose of today, with its happy 
associations, and, even if we can no 
longer value it for the virtues it does 
not really possess, we can still admire 
it for its beauty. 



W. Peyton Fawcett is head librarian, Field 
Museum Library. 



BULLETIN DECEMBER 1971 



Hanukkah Maurice I. Kliers 



Legend has it that Alexander the 
Great, as he swept through and 
conquered the whole of the then 
known world, approached Jerusalem at 
the head of his vast army. Instead of 
confronting him with armed forces as 
did all other peoples, the Priests of 
Judah, in their priestly white robes, 
went forth to greet him in peace. 

Behind this legend is the fact of the 
historic confrontation of two 
civilizations: Hellenism and Judaism. 
Alexander was not only a great 
general. He was also a student of 
Aristotle, and spread Greek thought 
until it blanketed the world. During his 
lifetime and for almost 200 years, 
Judaism and Hellenism lived 
harmoniously and enriched each other 
In Judah. 

Antiochus, King of the Greco-Syrians 
and successor to a portion of 
Alexander's empire, was not as wise. 
He, probably with the encouragement 
of Jewish Hellenists in Judah, 
attempted in 165 B.C. to foist upon all 
of the Judeans the Greek way of life — 
its language, sports, garb, but also its 
idolatry. 

Mathathias, a priest in the hamlet of 
Modin, near Jerusalem, and his sons 
the Maccabees rebelled and began a 
guerilla war which lasted over two 
years and was successful. 




The rebels, also known as the 
Hasideans, may have recognized the 
splendor of Greek thought — its 
philosophy, architecture, sculpture, 
literature, and science. However, they 
were committed to that which was 
lacking in the Greek way of life: a 




living God, a vital faith, and the 
sacredness of the human personality. 
It has also been said that whereas the 
Greeks believed in the holiness of 
beauty, the Jews believed in the 
beauty of holiness. 

It was this cultural clash that lay 
behind the war of the Maccabees. 
With their victory came a freedom to 
worship their God without paying 
homage to strange idols. This war of 
the Maccabees can therefore be 
considered the first fight man waged 
for religious freedom and therefore has 
universal significance. All who fight for 
religious freedom owe a debt to the 
Maccabees. 

The Maccabean victory was 
undoubtedly inspired by religious faith, 
but it was also helped by the rising 
power from the West — Rome. 
Antiochus retreated from Judah to 
mend his fences back home and 
prepare for the struggle with Rome 
which loomed on their horizon. 

Under the leadership of Judah 
Maccabee, son and successor of 
Mathathias, the Temple in Jerusalem 
was cleansed and dedicated. 
Hanukkah means "dedication" in 
Hebrew. The Temple had been 
polluted by the Greco-Syrians by virtue 
of having idols brought into it. When 
the Temple was cleansed, only one 
small cruse of oil was found undefiled. 
Normally it would have lasted only one 
day. It was used as a perpetual flame 
in the Temple. (Today this light is 



represented by the Ner Tamid — 
"Eternal Light" in the Synagogue.) 
However, according to a Jewish 
tradition, the oil lasted eight days. 
Thereafter, a holiday of eight days 
was established and called Hanukkah. 

Today in Jewish homes, and in Israel 
also in public institutions, an 
eight-branched Menorah or candelabra 
is lit on the 25th day of the Hebrew 
month of Kislev, or toward the middle 
of December. 

In the first century before the common 
era there was a controversy between 
the Schools of Hillel and Shammai as 
to how the Menorah should be lit. 
Shammai wanted all eight lights 
kindled on the first night and one less 
on each succeeding evening. Hillel — 
and this practice prevailed — wanted 
one lit on the first night and one more 
on each succeeding night. The Sages 
of the Talmud regarded this 
controversy as implying a difference 
between the pessimistic outlook and 
the optimistic. 




Hanukkah, then, is a holiday of light 
and joy and optimism, as well as 
religious freedom. 

Photos: Bench type Hanukkah lamps, with eight oil 
receptacles in a row, plus the shammash (servant) 
above to light them. Hanukkah lamps developed 
from a simple Roman oil lamp made of clay. The 
bench type shows that Hanukkah was originally 
celebrated in the home only. When Hanukkah lights 
were later kindled in the synagogue for wayfarers, 
the bench type could not be enlarged, and 
designers went to the candelabra shape of the old 
Menorah, adding two lights to it. Thus the Menorah 
type of Hanukkah lamp was created. Lett, Italian 
cast brass, c. 1600, in collection of Mr. and Mrs. 
Milton Horn, Chicago; above and right, 19th and 
18th century pewter, in Morton B. Weiss Museum 
of Judaica at K.A.M. Isaiah Israel Congregation, 
Chicago. 

Dr. Maurice I. Kliers is Rabbi of the South, " 
Side Hebrew Congregation. 



BULLETIN DECEMBER 1971 




Uk0 Wang 



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Ch'uan 



chen 




chi 



Alice 
Schneider 



Segments of Wang Ch'uan chen chi, rubbing 
mounted on tiand scroll in Field Museum collection, 
taken from a 1617 stone engraving. Because 
Chinese tiand scrolls are read from right to left, 
this sequence should properly be viewed from 
page 10 "backward" to this page. 



Chinese dynasties referred to here: 

Chou (1122-256 B.C.) 

Han (206 B.C.-A.D. 220) 

rang (618-907) 

Five Dynasties (907-960) 

Sung (960-1279) 

Yuan (1280-1367) 

Ming (1268-1643) 

Ch'ing (1644-1911) 

During the process of cataloging one 
of Field Museum's thousands of Chinese 
rubbings, Dr. Hoshien Tchen came 
upon a note which indicated that 
another rubbing in the collection which 
had previously been cataloged might 
be far more important than we had 
suspected earlier. 

The rubbing of special interest, 
mounted on a long hand scroll, shows 
various scenes of what has often been 
described as the country estate of 
Wang Wei (687-759), a famous T'ang 
dynasty poet and artist. It had been 
taken from a stone engraved in 1617 to 
reproduce his painting known as the 
Wang Ch'uan (the name he gave to 
his home) and was entitled Wang 
Ch'uan chen chi ("true picture of 
Wang Ch'uan"). 

We had long known that among the 
several editions of Wang Ch'uan 
rubbings in the Field Museum 
collection, all from different stones, 
and all engraved in the Ming and 
Ch'ing periods, this one was particularly 
fine. A preface in the scroll by Shen 



Kuo-hua, the Ming magistrate who 
ordered the stone cut, stated that it 
had been engraved from a "true 
picture" of Wang Wei's Wang Ch'uan 
done by Kuo Chung-shu. Kuo was a 
talented Sung artist who followed in the 
footsteps of Wang Wei a few hundred 
years later. But Shen did not make 
clear whether this Sung "true picture" 
had been a painting or a rubbing. The 
note Dr. Tchen came across later, 
written by a Ch'ing scholar named 
Wang Ting, stated that the 1617 edition 
was copied from a Sung stone carving. 

Even if the 1617 stone had been cut 
from a painted copy by Kuo, it would 
be of great value. As a disciple who 
was said to have continued the earlier 
master's style of painting into the Sung 
period, Kuo would have rendered a true 
likeness. But if Kuo's "true picture" 
were a rubbing, our 1617 copy 
of it would be of still greater value 
— because the Sung model would 
probably have been traced from the 
original for the express purpose of 
rendering as true a likeness as the 
engraving technique permits. Thus did 
the Chinese ensure preservation of 
a masterpiece, and also make 
reproductions for collectors. 

I should point out that a specimen of 
Chinese pictorial art may be a copy 
several times removed from what we 
would call an "original" and still be 
greatly valued. The late R. H. van 




BULLETIN DECEI^BER 1971 



Gulick, a wise, discriminating student 
and collector of Chinese art, succinctly 
expressed how "the traditional Chinese 
view ... is fundamentally different from 
ours. While we insist that a picture 
actually is painted by the man whose 
signature it bears or whom it is 
ascribed to, the Chinese have 
throughout the centuries considered 
this as a point of secondary importance; 
for them works of art serve in the first 
place to preserve and faithfully transmit 
the spirit of the [original] artists, they 
did not particularly care whether this 
aim was achieved by originals or by 
good, bona-fide copies." 

Why, then, should we attach so much 
importance to whether the model for 
this 1617 rubbing was a painting or 
a rubbing? 

We are, of course, primarily interested 
in authenticating as well as cataloging 
and preserving our materials. But we 
are also, to paraphrase Dr. Tchen, 
"interested in opening questions that 
other researchers may pursue on a 
deeper basis," for these rubbings are 
source materials — the bare facts of 
Chinese history and culture. In this 
instance, it can readily be seen why 
a model for the 1617 rubbing which 
was itself a rubbing would be of greater 
value for our understanding of the 
original than would a model which was 
a free-hand copy, permitting distortions 
or expressions of the copyist not found 



in the original. The art historian, as 
well as the art lover, could then look 
upon this 1617 rubbing as a fairly 
accurate statement of a painting 
considered by the Chinese themselves 
to be one of their most important, and 
one that has not been seen for 
hundreds of years. 

In a 1914 article John C. Ferguson 
claimed that "the earliest copy [of the 
IVang Ch'uan] which has come down 
to our present time is that of Kuo 
Chung-shu of the Sung Dynasty," and 
that he had had the privilege of 
studying its details and found that they 
tallied with a description of our 1617 
rubbing of the Wang Ch'uan published 
by Berthold Laufer. (Most of Field 
Museum's rubbings were collected in 
the early 1900s by Dr. Laufer, who 
became one of the Museum's most 
renowned curators for his wide 
knowledge of East Asia.) Ferguson also 
commented that Kuo, out of respect 
for the earlier master, would never have 
permitted himself the freedom of 
imitating only the style of Wang Wei; 
such a copy would be called a fan 
painting. Kuo made a lin pen, which 
term (used in an inscription on the 
painting) means a faithful reproduction 
copied directly from the original, 
perhaps traced. This painting is now 
housed in the Metropolitan Museum. 
The fact that Kuo Chung-shu made a 
painted copy of the Wang Ch'uan 



does not rule out the evidence that 
he also did an engraving. 

Many artists made free-hand copies of 
the original Wang Ch'uan. One such 
painting, and famous in its own right, 
is an eighteen-foot-long hand scroll 
in the British Museum by Chao 
Meng-fu (1254-1322). In an inscription 
following his signature on the painting, 
he acknowledges it to be a "free" 
copy; and it is important to look upon 
these "free" copies as just that. 
While a masterpiece, and supposedly 
based upon the T'ang model, the 
painting reflects many of the 
characteristics attributed to the Yuan 
period of painting. And it is, as Chao 
implies, an example of his virtuosity. 

In an exhibit of late Ming and early 
Ch'ing painters recently shown at the 
Art Institute of Chicago, there was a hand 
scroll entitled Wang Ch'uan Villa. It 
was painted by Wang Yuan-ch'i 
(1642-1715). The accompanying 
catalog to the exhibition mentioned 
that it was based on a "1617 engraved 
version of the famous Wang Ch'uan 
composition attributed to Wang Wei," 
which Wang Yuan-ch'i referred to as a 
"popular stone engraving." Though his 
picture too is a "free" copy, it is 
interesting that of the several rubbings 
from various stones available in the 
seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, 
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BULLETIN DECEMBER 1971 



Wang 
Ch'uan 



this 1617 version as his model. 

China has produced many major 
painters, both before and after Wang 
Wei, but he has a unique place in the 
long history of China's pictorial art 
in that he has been credited with 
creating the Ch'an (Zen in Japanese) 
Buddhist school of landscape painting. 
It came to be known as the 
"Southern" in contrast to the 
"Northern" school. These are not 
geographical terms; rather, they 
express styles and approaches — the 
"Southern" using light ink-washes and 
relying upon intuition and suggestion, 
as against the stricter attitude of color 
over outline preferred by the 
"Northern." These distinctions, as so 
often happens, were really 
interpretations by artists and art 
critics of following periods, but they 
set Chinese landscape painting into 
two models — not truly always clear 
from each other — and for one 
thousand years followers of the two 
schools vied with each other on merits. 

Thus, the possibility that the 1617 
stone could have been copied from an 
early Sung stone could be as exciting 
to the Chinese art historian as would 
be the discovery of a new fossil 
species to a paleontologist. 

Why did Wang Wei and his period, the 
Tang, assume such importance? It 
was one of China's most expansive 



periods — politically, militarily, 
economically, and artistically. The 
country was unified and strong, its 
borders and influence extended far, 
and the arts reflected this vitality. 
Although the T'ang dynasty is perhaps 
better known by collectors and art 
museums in the West for its tomb 
pieces of majestic human and animal 
figures, it was for the Chinese their 
great period of poetry and calligraphy. 
It was also a period of innovation in 
painting, greatly influenced by Taoism 
and Buddhism, when new patterns of 
tradition became established. 

Wang Wei was one of these 
innovators. He was a successful 
physician and poet in his earty 
twenties. He served briefly as an 
assistant minister to the Emperor 
Hsuan Ts'ung until imprisoned for a 
time by rebel forces. After his young 
wife died when he was only thirty-one, 
he retired to a country villa. There he 
spent the remaining thirty years of his 
life in the meditations of Buddhism, 
writing poetry, and painting. Wang 
Wei's poems are said to be paintings, 
and his paintings poems. The scenes 
he painted and often accompanied 
with poetry were largely of the 
beautiful landscape of the Lan-tien 
District of Shensi Province in 
northern China. 

There has been an adulation given to 
Wang Wei few Chinese artists have 



enjoyed. In the long annals of Chinese 
art criticism, he is almost without 
criticism. In fact, it was said that 
when Wang Wei painted a banana tree 
growing in snow, it was plausible. 
None of his paintings exist today. It is 
questionable whether any paintings of 
T'ang artists still exist; those which 
claim to be T'ang are suspect. It is 
therefore with great respect and 
reverence that we turn to the copies 
of early masterpieces — either paintings 
or the rubbings from engraved copies. 

What exactly are rubbings? 

For one thing, most Chinese rubbings 
are not rubbed. The term "rubbings" 
usually means to us an image 
produced by placing paper over a 
hard surface and actually rubbing the 
back with chalk or crayon to get an 
impression of the engraved or relief 
design underneath. This is how we 
might, for instance, take a rubbing of 
a coin or an old gravestone. But the 
Chinese have for centuries used a 
much more refined technique, which 
is technically called ink squeeze. 
The paper is applied wet, gently 
tamped into the engraved parts, and 
before it is completely dry India ink is 
evenly and carefully patted over the 
surface. When the paper is peeled 
off, only that part which covered the 
raised elements of the hard surface 
appears black. Thus we usually see 
white lines on a black background 




BULLETIN DECEMBER 1971 



because the design on the stone is 
usually incised. When the impression 
is taken from a surface with the design 
in raised relief, the print will appear 
as black on white. If the hard surface 
from which the rubbing is taken is 
fairly smooth, like bronze or wood, the 
print may be difficult to distinguish 
from a wood-block print, which is made 
by inking the block and pressing 
it on the paper. 

The Chinese wet process for taking 
rubbings does not imply that they wish 
to go out of their way to make a 
seemingly simple process complicated; 
the wet process gives a more 
successful print. It does not smudge 
(unless poorly done), and if the 
rubbing is carefully stored — better yet, 
mounted and stored — it can survive 
for centuries. 

We have mounted rubbings in our 
collection going back to the Sung 
period. In fact, many of these rubbings 
have survived the stones from which 
they were taken, primarily because 
they were easier to care for. 

It should be pointed out here that 
engravings on hard surfaces did not 
begin with the objective of taking 
rubbings. In fact, the Chinese had 
been engraving in bronze as well as 
stone long before paper was invented 
in the second century, permitting 
rubbings. Engravings were objectives in 



themselves, a form of preservation of 
what the Chinese considered their 
finest expression — writings — which 
were esteemed above all else. 

It is said that to ensure to posterity 
the truth of the Confucian classics, 
which had been distorted by many 
generations of copyists, the Han 
Emperor Ling had these classics 
collated and standardized once and 
for all by ordering that they be 
engraved in stone, and thus began the 
great stone carvings of China which 
lasted over two thousand years. 

Not so. The tradition is probably much 
older. Still extant in Peking are stone 
carvings that are memorials in poetic 
form to a great military success. It is 
now thought that they date from the 
seventh or eighth century B.C. But it 
is conceivable that carving in stone 
began even earlier. 

Quite possibly the Chinese invented 
paper because they were looking for 
a material which lent itself to print 
making in order to extend the 
engravings. Silk had been tried very 
early without much success. In any 
event, there is strong evidence that 
by the third century A.D. paper had 
been perfected well enough to make 
rubbings, and that by the fifth century, 
when European countries were still 
struggling with sheepskins, the Chinese 
were producing rubbing prints as a 



"mass medium." By the Sung 
period, rubbings of famous 
calligraphies were already sought 
after as collectors' items. 

By the Ming dynasty, pictorial art had 
reached such a state of perfection that 
there was little new to be said or 
reached for. Many critics have 
considered it a period of artistic 
decline, including some who lived in 
the Ming. By the same token, 
reverence for the older masters 
increased, and engravings of old 
paintings, as well as engravings of 
calligraphy, became more common 
and also sought after as collectors' 
items. Some of these prints, if 
rendered by a good engraver, were 
valued above contemporary paintings 
or free-hand copies of older paintings, 
possibly because they were truer 
likenesses of the originals. 

The skills of the copyist and engraver 
in transmitting a style of painting or 
calligraphy are of utmost importance. 
In early days there were special court 
engravers who worked exclusively for 
the emperor. Later it became a proud 
trade, and very often we will find the 
name of the engraver as well as that 
of the calligrapher or painter cut into 
stone. Engravings, depending on 
the detail, demand much time and 
infinite patience. To reproduce the 
original as exactly as possible, a 
tracing of it must first be made and 




BULLETIN DECEMBER 1971 



Wang 
Ch'uan 



transferred onto the stone, then 
carved into it. The technique can 
pick up the calligraphic lines of a 
painting but must sacrifice the freedom 
of the brush stroke, and cannot 
possibly reproduce the nuances of ink 
wash (although attempts to do so 
have been made). The harsh nature 
of stone does not easily yield the 
fluid lines created by a brush, but 
some results are amazing. 

The quality of the rubbing from the 
1617 stone indicates that the copyist 
and engraver knew their trades well. 
This judgment is confirmed in the scroll 
itself. The prefatory remarks written 
on the scroll by Shen Kuo-hua (who 
had the stone cut) first explain that 
when he was magistrate of Lan-tien 
District, he discovered that the copy 
there of Wang Wei's Wang Ch'uan 
painting was coarse looking and not 
even representative of the Wang 
Ch'uan landscape. He goes on to state 
that he ordered Wang Wei's "true 
picture" in the collection owned by 
Yang Pai-fu be cut on stone, this 
"true picture" being a copy made by 
Kuo Chung-shu (Sung dynasty); that 
Kuo Sou-lu was appointed to copy it 
for the new stone carving; and that 
his fine work is praised for being an 
exact copy of the Sung dynasty edition. 
Several colophons of appreciation also 
follow the picture, including one by 
the collector Yang Pai-fu and one by 



the engraver of the new stone. We are 
encouraged regarding the accuracy 
of this 1617 edition by all these 
testimonials; plus the fact that the 
Sung copyist was a fine artist and 
disciple of the Wang Wei "Southern" 
school; plus the knowledge that the 
print of this Sung edition used as a 
model was borrowed from a 
recognized collector. 

Good rubbings are no longer easy to 
obtain, and are certainly not 
inexpensive. Many of the stones from 
which they were made are gone or 
unavailable and the craft of the engraver 
is dying out. Quite likely it is 
already gone. We are therefore 
fortunate at Field Museum to have 
received from Dr. Berthold Laufer one 
of the best and most encompassing 
collections of rubbings ever assembled 
— including, among other things, a 
prize in the 1617 edition of the 
VJang Ch'uan chen chi. 

As a postscript about Chinese 
rubbings in general, perhaps it should 
be noted that the mulberry paper used 
is very delicate and highly responsive 
to changes of temperature and light. 
Rubbings should therefore be exhibited 
as sparingly as possible, and with 
caution. While a few of the rubbings 
in Field Museum's collection go back 
to the Sung period, most are of 
comparatively recent vintage — not 



more than 300 years old — and fairly 
well preserved only because these 
regrettably strict measures are taken. 
A few are on permanent display, 
however, in the China exhibits on the 
second floor. 



REFERENCES 

Catalog cards, nos. 116203 and 245473, 
East Asian Study, Field Museum. 

John C. Ferguson. "Wang Ch'uan." 
Ostasiatische Zeitschrilt, vol. 3, no. 1, 1914. 

Berthold Laufer. "The Wang Ch'uan T'u, A 
Landscape of Wang Wei," Ostasiatische 
Zeitschrift, vol. 1, no. 1, 1912. 

T. H. Tsien. Written on Bamboo and Silk: 
Ttie Beginnings of Chinese Booths and 
Inscriptions. University of Chicago Press, 
1962. 

R. H. van Gulik, LItt.D. (trans.) 
Scrapbook for Chinese Collectors — A 
Chinese Treatise on Scrolls and Forgers 
by Shu-hua-shuo-ling. Beirut, 1958. 

Roderick Whitfield. In Pursuit ot Antiquity. 
Catalog of Chinese paintings of the Ming 
and Ch'ing Dynasties from the collection of 
Mr. and Mrs. Earl Morse published by the 
Art Museum of Princeton University, 1969. 



Alice Schneider is volunteer assistant to Dr. 

Hoshien Tchen, consultant to Field 
Museum's East Asian Study, Department 
of Anthropology. 











ib 


jPi^ , ' ^ ^^m 



10 



BULLETIN DECEMBER 1971 




A Latin American Christmas 
Terua Williams 



Tegucigalpa, Honduras 
December 25 
Dear Mother and Dad, 

It was four o'clock this morning before 
we turned the covers down and 
crawled into bed. We have been 
celebrating Christmas as guests of our 
Guatemalan friends the M6ridas, now 
residing here in Honduras. Christmas 
Eve, Noche Buena, rather than 
Christmas Day is the high point of 
this joyous occasion. At midnight the 
bells in all the church towers began 
to peal and the sky caught fire with 
flares and reverberated with rockets to 
remind us of the "Joy to the World" 
message that the Christ Child was born. 

From the moment we arrived at the 
outskirts of town early yesterday 
evening we felt the festive mood. 
Children were already setting off fire 
crackers. Christmas and Easter are 
the two holidays of the year when 
families down here make a great 
effort to be together, and we were so 
happy to be invited to join our friends' 
family group for this Noche Buena 
when we ourselves were far from 
home. Coronel M6rida, dona Lola, 
Aida, Carmen Rosa, and Marco were 
all at the threshold to greet us with 
a Feliz Navidad! 

We rather expected to have a 
traditional Guatemalan Christmas plus 
— because the M6ridas had lived 
some years in New Orleans and so 
had adopted some of our northern 
Christmas customs. And so it was. 
A huge pine tree filling one corner of 
the living room was decorated with 



ornaments. The tree has become a 
part of Christmas here only in recent 
years. El nacimiento, the traditional 
nativity scene, which is always present 
in Latin American homes on this 
holiday, was arranged on a table near 
the tree. The figures of this one were 
of finely carved wood. Sometimes they 
are made of porcelain, and sometimes 
they are crudely shaped of clay and 
painted bright colors. Always the 
scene includes the Holy Family, the 
Three Kings, the shepherds, and the 
animals. Over the years various 
family members usually add houses, 
trees, and other figures and objects 
until the nacimiento becomes a village. 
They use Spanish moss, tiny succulent 
plants, lichens, and pine needles for 
the landscaping. The bromeliads that 
come into bloom in December here, 
with shiny green leaves and bright 
red bracts, as well as the poinsettias 
that grow so luxuriantly, sometimes as 
hedges, are used to decorate homes 
and churches. And often the floors 
are sprinkled with long green pine 
needles. 

The church we went to for midnight 
mass was perfumed with candles and 
pine needles and incense. The 
candle-lit mass is called misa del 
gallo, for the cock is supposed to 
crow at midnight. At the end of the 
service we were all given lighted 
candles to carry down the aisle and 
out into the night as the bells peeled 
and the fireworks rained starlets down 
above our heads. When we arrived 
home in this spirit of joy we knelt 
before the nacimiento to give thanks 



for our well being and to bless the 
feast of which we were about to 
partake. 

What a feast it was! You have had 
tamales made of cornmeal with meat 
inside. We had nacatamales — super 
tamales. The cooked cornmeal, called 
masa, has mixed into it lard, onion, 
garlic, green pepper, pimiento, salt, 
and the bright yellow achiote powder 
which gives color. This mixture is 
spread on pieces of banana leaf. Then 
chopped turkey meat, boiled rice, 
cooked chick peas, diced raw potato, 
green olives, capers, and even raisins 
are placed on top. The tamale is 
rolled up and wrapped in the banana 
leaf, tied, and placed in a big kettle 
to steam over boiling water. When the 
leaves are well cooked, so are the 
nacatamales. One alone is a meal, 
but that was just one course. 

Then came the time to open the gifts 
piled under the tree. This custom is 
ours, not theirs, and Santa Claus was 
introduced to them by us. Before Santa 
Claus was imported children believed 
that the Three Kings were the bearers 
of gifts — and not on Christmas Day, 
but on the Twelfth Night. In many 
places children still put grass out to 
feed the animals the Three Kings ride. 
They awake next morning to find the 
grass gone and gifts left in its place. 

Throughout the twelve days of 
Christmas the paranda custom leads 
to many an all-night party. During this 
period anyone or any group knocking 
at a door at any hour must be invited 
in and served refreshments, and the 
housewife must be prepared with 
cookies, drink, and music. The 
seasonal beverage is rompope, which 
requires a bottle of aguardiente (raw 
rum), ten egg yolks, a quart of milk, 
ten tablespoons of sugar, some 
cinnamon, and vanilla. 

Since we couldn't share your Christmas 
this year, we want to share ours with 
you. 

With love, Rua 

Terua Williams is a volunteer in the 
Department of Botany and the wile ot 
Dr. Louis O. Williams, chairman ot the 
Department ot Botany, Field Museum. This 
letter recalls a Christmas she and her 
husband spent in Latin America. The 
illustration is trom her own linoleum 
block cut. 



BULLETIN DECEMBER 1971 



11 



Shall we 

inherit the whirlwind? 



John Clark 




Hurricane Ginger in its dying phases shows as a broad, white cloud mass. A zone of clear weather (dark area) lies between the rotating mass of the 
hurricane and the normal cloud systems. The enormous heat energy which drives the rotating storm system has been moved by the storm from near Jamaica 
northwestward to Virginia. 



Hurricane Ginger, which hit the coast 
of North Carolina this fall, was a large 
but only moderately nasty girl. 
Hurricane Ginger was also one of 
very few hurricanes that have been 
seeded with silver iodide or other 
particles, with the aim of moderating 
their power. 

Now there is serious question whether 
or not the treatment was effective. 
Ginger was already very old, as 
hurricanes go, and showed several 
abnormal characteristics. The experts 
who supervise Project Stormfury, the 
federal agency which observes and 
tries to temper hurricanes, must study 
the results carefully before they can 
say just what the results of seeding 
were. 

If we consider the tragic loss of life 



and property when a major hurricane 
strikes our coast. Project Stormfury 
appears to be one of the wisest 
investments our government makes. 
Its studies of the nature of hurricanes 
have enormously expanded our 
knowledge of them. With understanding 
has come increased ability to predict 
their courses. This alone has saved 
more money than the project costs. 

But is it wise to learn to dissipate 
hurricanes? I wonder. 

What is a hurricane anyway? We all 
know that it Is a violent, rotating 
storm which follows an erratic path. 
What else is it? Therein lies the real 
problem. In order to understand, we 
must see hurricanes not as separate 
entities, but as part of Earth's 



atmospheric circulation system. 

The circulating part of the atmosphere 
is a fluid film only a few miles thick 
surrounding our globe. The power that 
drives it is convection, the same power 
that makes a pot of water simmer 
over a burner. 

Power for the major convection system 
is generated by the difference in 
temperature between the tropics and 
the poles. Warm air boils upward over 
the equator, passes through a series 
of "simmers, " and eventually cools off 
near the poles. If you put one end of 
a long, flat pan over a low burner 
and fill the pan with a couple of inches 
of water, you can see the same thing 
happen. If the heat is great, a single 
"boil" (technically, a convection cell) 



12 



BULLETIN DECEMBER 1971 



This greatly simpllfled diagram shows the global pattern of air convectlor) at the earth's surface. This 
Is modified by the secondary, continental-oceanic system and by many lesser Influences. The cooling, 
down-moving air masses at the poles and warming, upward-moving air masses at the equator are separated by 
a second "simmer" or convection cell in each hemisphere. 



develops over the whole pan. Turn 
the heat down, and several "simmers" 
(smaller convection cells) appear. This 
more nearly resembles the situation 
in our atmosphere. Notice that the 
system is three-dimensional. Until air 
travel became common, we always 
thought of winds and storms as at the 
bottom of our air film — on Earth's 
surface. Nowadays anyone who has 
ridden a jet airliner knows that the 
atmosphere moves up, down, and 
sideways at all elevations. 

A second and smaller convection 
arises due to the difference in 
temperature between continents and 
oceans. The continents are warmer 
than their neighboring oceans in 
summer, and colder in winter. This sets 
up a lesser system of air movement, 
which modifies but doesn't supersede 
the main one. 

Hurricanes do not constitute a 
meteorological island, sufficient unto 
themselves. They are an integral part 
of Earth's orderly system of convective 
heat circulation. Most of them occur 
during autumn and spring, just as the 
Arctic temperatures are changing, and 
as the secondary continental-oceanic 
system is changing. Hurricanes receive 
billions of horsepower of energy from 
warm subtropical seas and transfer 
it generally northward and landward, 
to areas of colder air and, naturally, 
less energy. 

What would happen if Project Stormfury 
should find a way of stopping 
hurricanes in their tracks? Politically, 
we can be sure that from that day 
onward all hurricanes would be 
stopped. We cannot imagine a 
government deciding to stop one 
hurricane but not another — that would 
have political consequences of 
hurricane proportions. 

And what would happen to Earth's 
weather patterns if all hurricanes were 
stopped? No one knows, and no one 
can possibly predict. Perhaps there 
would be no appreciable change. 

Perhaps the climate of southeastern 




United States would develop disastrous 
November cold waves. Perhaps cutting 
off the hurricanes would trigger a 
change in the whole wind pattern. 
Since winds drive the major ocean 
currents, even a minor change in 
prevailing winds would change the 
direction of the ocean currents. We 
might change the climate of Europe. 
We simply do not know, and can't 
predict! 

If this interests you enough to try the 
experiment I mentioned before, with 
a flat pan over a burner, you might try 
turning the burner to a low simmer, 
then placing the blade of a 
pancake-turner or a pie-lifter in 
different positions near the simmering 
area. Watch how the flow of water 
changes. Very roughly that is what 
suppressing hurricanes might do. 



The worst possibility, and one that 
seems quite unlikely, is that equatorial 
heat might build up until it produced a 
super-hurricane which we could not 
stop, tvluch more probably, some 
notable changes would occur in our 
winter weather. Since the warm-air 
movement would be forced into the 
upper atmosphere, we might well 
experience bitterly cold winters here 
at Earth's surface. 

I cannot help wondering if it is wise 
of us to tamper with one of the 
mightiest forces in Nature before we 
know what we are doing. We may 
indeed, in the words of Hosea, sow the 
wind and inherit the whirlwind. 

Dr. John Clark is associate curator of 
sedirDentary petrology, Department ot 
Geology, Field Museum. 



BULLETIN DECEMBER 1971 



1> 




New Trustee 

Gordon Bent, well known Chicago business 
man, has been elected a Trustee of the Field 
Museum of Natural History. Remick 
McDowell, Museum president, made the 
announcement following a recent meeting 
of the Board of Trustees. 

Bent is general partner and syndicate 
manager of Bacon, Whipple & Company. 
He has been associated with the firm since 
1946. In the past, he has held the important 
posts of: governor of the Midwest Stock 
Exchange from 1967 to 1968; governor from 
1956 to 1960 and chairman in 1959 and 




Gordon Bent 

1960 of the Chicago Association of Stock 

Exchange Firms; and national governor 

from 1964 to 1966 and chairman in 1962 of 

the National Association of Securities 

Dealers. 

Among his civic activities, Bent serves as 
vice president and member of the board of 
directors of the Chicago Maternity Center. 

Three Retire 

Three members of the maintenance staff 
retired recently after a total of 77 years' 
service to the Museum. Mrs. Allener 
Nathaniel was with the Museum for 16 
years; Stephen Kovar served on the staff 
for 41 years; and Tomasz Turley has retired 
after 20 years. The Museum is grateful to 
these people for their long service and for 
the fine caliber of their work. 



Dr. Karel Liem Back at Museum 

Dr. Karel Liem, associate curator of 
vertebrate anatomy, has returned to Field 
Museum after a year of study abroad on a 
Guggenheim Memorial Foundation 
fellowship. 

Dr. Liem spent seven months in London 
at the British Museum and five months in 
the Netherlands at the University of Leyden 
studying the morphology and evolution of 
cichlid fishes in Africa's Lake Tanganyika. 
The British Museum possesses the largest 
collection in the world of cichlid fish; 
the University of Leyden has the best 
laboratory equipment in the world for 
analyzing muscle function. 

Cichlid fishes in Lake Tanganyika have 
undergone explosive evolution over 
approximately the last two million years. 
About five originally riverine species 
evolved into 135 lacustrine species. 
Evolution has occurred so quickly that all 
stages of that evolution are found in the 
lake — the original riverine species as well 
as intermediate stages and highly 
specialized species. 

Dr. Liem is interested in determining why 
cichlids but no other fishes in the lake 
have had such a burst of evolution. "A 
study of comparative anatomy of the fishes, 
particularly the feeding mechanisms," said 
Dr. Liem, "may shed some light on the 
problem." Dr. Liem noted that the 
ancestral form was omnivorous — a general 
feeder — while the descendents have 
developed specialized feeding habits and 
adaptive mechanisms. Some cichlid 
species, said Dr. Liem, now swallow other 
fish whole, some scrape algae from rocks, 
some crush snails, some eat only scales 
of other fish, and some eat only fish eggs. 

In mouth-breeding cichlids, the female 
incubates the eggs in her month until they 
hatch, and for some time after hatching 
the young return to her mouth for 
protection. One of the many interesting 
species that feed upon mouth-breeders has 
evolved a large-lipped mouth and very 
small teeth, enabling the predator fish 
to grasp the head of the mouth-breeder 
in its jaws and suck out the eggs and 
young fish. 

A special problem presented by 
mouth-breeders that Dr. Liem solved at 
the University of Leyden was. How does 
the female fish respire while eggs or young 
are in her mouth? Fish respire by pumping 
water through the gills, usually by using 
the pumping action of the cheeks. By 
attaching tiny electrodes to individual 
muscles of live cichlids and charting 
muscle activity. Dr. Liem discovered that 
mouth-breeders can also use the pumping 
action of the chin (gular region) to force 



water through the gills. They can use both 
methods of breathing interchangeably, 
while other cichlids and non-cichlids must 
rely on just one mechanism — i.e., pumping 
action of the cheeks 

Dr. Liem was educated in Indonesia, the 
Netherlands, and the United States, and 
holds a Ph.D. in zoology from the University 
of Illinois, Urbana. He joined the Museum 
staff in 1965. He also teaches anatomy 
at the University of Illinois College of 
Medicine and has collaborated on or 
authored some 20 publications on 
vertebrate anatomy. He is a member of the 
National Academy of Science's Committee 
on Latimeria (to study the coelacanth, a 
primitive fish previously thought to be 
extinct). 

Staff Appointments 




Dr. Robert Inger Norman Nelson 

Two staff members have been appointed to 
the position of assistant director. The 
changes are aimed at consolidating the 
Museum organization to prepare for the 
institution of two long term projects of vital 
importance to Field Museum in the coming 
decades: the $25 million capital fund 
campaign and a major building rehabilitation 
program. 

Dr. Robert F. Inger, formerly chairman of 
Scientific Programs, becomes assistant 
director. Science and Education. The 
scientific, exhibition and education 
departments, and the library, come under his 
jurisdiction. 

Norman W. Nelson, formerly business 
manager, is assistant director. 
Administration. His area of authority 
embraces the financial, sen/ice and 
administration functions of the Museum, 
including the operation of the building. 

"The present departmental organization and 
internal operations will remain unaffected," 
said Director E. Leiand Webber. "These 
changes have been made to strengthen our 
administration functions and to continue 
decentralization of responsibility for Museum 
operations and decision making." 



14 



BULLETIN DECEMBER 1971 



Capital Campaign 

Field Museum has received a capital gift 
of one million dollars from an anonymous 
Chicagoland donor. Announcement of the 
gift was made by Nicholas Galitzine and 
Marshall Field, chairman and vice chairman, 
respectively, of the Museum's Capital 
Campaign to raise tw/enty-five million 
dollars. 

This is the largest gift received since the 
Museum launched the first capital 
campaign in its twenty-eight-year history 
on September 20. "We are elated by the 
generosity of this donor," said Galitzine, 
"and only wish that we could reveal the 
identity so that we might express our 
thanks publicly." 

This gift brings the total contributions 
received in the campaign to more than 
$4,200,000. 

Funds obtained through the campaign will 
be used to repair and improve the 
Museum's fifty-year-old building, renovate 
and modernize exhibit areas, and improve 
visitor services and educational facilities. 

"We deeply appreciate this splendid gift," 
said Museum Director E. Leiand Webber. 
"It lends encouraging support to our 
confidence that Chicagoans in the 1970s 
will contribute as they did in 1893, when 
so many persons contributed to the 
founding of a great museum for the city." 



Fieldiana 

The following Issues of Fieldiana have been 
recently published and are available for 
purchase from the Museum's Publications 
Division. 

Fieldiana is a continuing series of scientific 
papers and monographs dealing with 
anthropology, botany, geology, and zoology 
published by Field Museum. Prices cited 
do not reflect the 10 percent discount 
available to Members of the Museum. 
Publication Number should be used when 
ordering. 

Botany 

"Flora of Peru" (Volume XIII, Part V-B, No. 3) 
by Gabriel Edwin, associate professor of 
biology, Roosevelt University, and former 
associate curator of vascular plants. Field 
Museum. Publication 1125. $10. 

"Revision of the Genus Morganella 
(Lycoperdaceae)" (Volume 34, No. 3) by 
Patricio Ponce de Leon, assistant curator, 
cryptogamic herbarium. Field Museum. 
Publication 1127. $1. 

"A New Species of Juniperus from Mexico" 
(Volume 34, No. 4) by Marion T. Hall, 
director. The Morton Arboretum, Lisle. 
Publication 1131. $1. 



"Note On Gibsoniothamnus" (Volume 34, 
No. 5) by Alwyn H. Gentry, Missouri 
Botanical Garden, St. Louis. Publication 

1138. $.75. 

"Flora Costaricensis" (Volume 35) by 
William C. Burger, associate curator of 
vascular plants. Field Museum. Publication 
1140. $10. 

Geology 

"Notes on the Siluro-Devonian Ischadiles 
stellatus (Fagerstrom 1961), a 
Dasycladaceous Alga" (Volume 23, No. 3) 
by Matthew H. Nitecki, associate curator, 
fossil invertebrates. Field Museum. 
Publication 1134. $.75. 

"Revision of the Holocystites Fauna 
(Diploporita) of North America" (Volume 24) 
by Christopher R. C. Paul, assistant 
professor of geology, Indiana University 
Northwest. Publication 1135. $8. 

"Catalogue of Type and Referred Specimens 
of Crinozoa (Blastoidea) in Field Museum of 
Natural History" (Volume 23, No. 4) by Julia 
Golden, custodian of types, fossil 
invertebrates. Field Museum, and Matthew H. 
Nitecki, associate curator, fossil 
invertebrates, Field Museum. Publication 

1139. $1. 

Zoology 

"The Viperid Snake Azmiops; its 
Comparative Cephalic Anatomy and 
Phylogenetic Position in Relation to 
Viperinae and Crotalinae" (Volume 59, No. 
2) by Karel F. Liem, associate curator of 
anatomy. Field Museum and associate 
professor of anatomy. University of Illinois 
Medical Center, Chicago; Hymen Marx, 
associate curator of amphibians and 
reptiles, Field Museum; and George B. 
Rabb, research associate, Field Museum 
and associate director of research and 
education, Chicago Zoological Society, 
Brookfield. Publication Number 1126. $3. 

"Revision of the Termitophilous Tribe 
Philotermitini (Coleoptera: Staphylinidae)" 
(Volume 58, No. 4) by David H. Kistner, 
Shinner Institute for the Study of Interrelated 
Insects, Department of Biology, Chicago 
State College. Publication 1128. $.75. 

"New Distributional Records of Bats from 
Iran" (Volume 58, No. 3) by Anthony F. 
DeBlase, Field Museum. Publication 1129. 
$.75. 

"The Auditory Region (Ossicles, Sinuses) in 
Gliding Mammals and Selected 
Representatives of Non-Gliding Genera" 
(Volume 58, No. 5) by Walter Segall, 
research associate, vertebrate anatomy. 
Field Museum. Publication 1130. $1.25. 

"Mating Calls of Some Frogs From 
Thailand" (Volume 58, No. 6) by W. Ronald 
Heyer, Biology Department, Pacific Lutheran 
University. Publication 1132. $1. 



"Descriptions of Some Tadpoles From 
Thailand" (Volume 58, No. 7) by W. Ronald 
Heyer, Biology Department, Pacific Lutheran 
University. Publication 1133. $.75. 

"A Redescription of Amphiprion nigripes 
Regan, a Valid Species of Anemonefish 
(Family Pomocentridae) from the Indian 
Ocean" (Volume 58, No. 8) by Gerald R. 
Allen, Department of Zoology, University of 
Hawaii, and Bernice P. Bishop Museum; 
and Richard N. Mariscal, Department of 
Biological Science, Florida State University. 
Publication 1136. $.75. 

"Auditory Region in Bats Including 
Icaronycteris index" (Volume 58, No. 9) by 
Walter Segall, research associate. Field 
Museum. Publication 1137. $.75. 



Fifty Years on Museum Staff 




Anthony Patteri, who joined the maintenance staff 
of Field Museum in October of 1921. recently 
celebrated 60 years — a working lifetime — with 
the Museum. 



Backyard Safari 

A "Backyard Safari" gets underway each 
Sunday at 8:00 a.m. on WBBM-TV 
(Channel 2). This unique series of half-hoof 
programs for children focuses on the 
natural history of the Chicago area. 
Future programs will explore: December 12, 
Cats; December 19, Dogs; December 26, 
Heat; January 2, The Sun; January 9, 
Recycling. 

"Backyard Safari" is produced cooperatively 
by WBBM-TV, the Chicago Board of 
Education, and Field Museum. 

Jade for Sale 

The Museum Book Shop has a wide 
selection of jade jewelry — rings, pins, 
pendants, bracelets — and carvings for sale. 
Price range is from $5 to $50. Members 
of the Museum receive a ten percent 
discount on all purchases. 



BULLETIN DECEMBER 1971 



IB 




: 



This Island Earth 

Oran W. Nicks, ed. National Aeronautics 
and Space Administration Special 
Publication 250. Washington, D.C.: U.S. 
Government Printing Office, 1970. 182 pp. 
Indexed. $6. 

Men have always been fascinated by high 
places: the view from a skyscraper, out of an 
airplane window, from the summit of a 
mountain. There is a quality about seeing 
the world spread out beneath us that causes 
most of us to stare, entranced. This Island 
Earth is a book that captures a great deal of 
this entrancing quality; for here is a large 
collection of color photographs taken from 
the ultimate of all high places — the orbiting 
satellite. 

Most of us have seen a few photographs 
taken from the several orbiting vehicles of 
the Gemini and Apollo programs. This book, 
however, contains hundreds of them, almost 
all in color. The book is divided into seven 
chapters, each emphasizing a particular 
photographic subject matter: the earth's 
atmosphere, the seas, the lands. North 
America, visible works of man. The opening 
chapter deals with our solar system in 
general with some excellent color shots of 
some of the planets, and the final chapter 
discusses and illustrates the several 
projected NASA space programs planned, 
or hoped for, over the next few years. 

Like all NASA projects, this is a team- 
written book. Team writing usually turns out 
badly; however, NASA has become so expert 
at team efforts that this book reads 
particularly well. One is never conscious of 
severe changes in style. This is, of course, 
a tribute to the editor, Oran Nicks. 

The book can be enjoyed at three levels. 
One can simply leaf through the 
photographs and enjoy the spectacular 
views from hundreds of miles up above the 
atmosphere. To see how a major river, a 
mountain range, or a sea of atoll reefs 
appear from such a height is a delightful 
experience. One can, on the other hand. 



carefully read the photograph captions and 
discover details that are pointed out in the 
adjacent pictures. Finally, one can read the 
text that goes along with each chapter. 
The writing is easy to follow, conversational 
in style, and not highly technical. One can, 
nevertheless, learn a good deal about 
aspects of the earth's weather systems, 
oceanography, and geology. 

At any of these three levels it is a 
fascinating book to go through. In one photo 
you can actually see a straight line marking 
the political boundary between Israel and 
Egypt. The Israeli side is a blue-gray color; 
the Egyptian side is pale tan. The colors 
reflect the differences in land use. In Israel 
the land is cultivated and irrigated; in 
adjacent Egypt it is the desert of the 
nomads. In another photo you can see a 
straight line marking the political boundary 
between New Mexico and Texas. No one is 
really certain why it should show up this 
way in a photograph, but it may have 
something to do with differences in water- 
use laws between these two states. Such 
photos, among the many others discussed 
in the book, illustrate some of the economic 
uses of satellite-based color photography. 

The book suffers only slightly from technical 
defects. Only one photo is badly out of 
color register and is quite blurred. In general 
the book is well done. It is hard-bound, 
printed on durable glossy paper, and its 
format size, 9 by 1 1 V* inches, is large so 
that one does not get a cramped feeling for 
the panoramic views contained in it. In fact, 
some photographs are spread out over 
double pages, offering a truly expansive 
look. At its modest price, this book is well 
worth adding to any home library. 

The title comes from the Apollo 10 
astronauts as they looked "over their 
shoulders" at Earth dropping away behind 
them, a lovely white-frosted sapphire floating 
alone in a sea of cold, black space. That 
Earth is truly an "island" there can no 
longer be any doubt. In these days of 
impending ecological tragedy it is perhaps 
desirable that we be reminded of this 
fact — again and again. 

by Dr. Edward J. Olsen, curator of 
mineralogy in the Department of Geology, 
Field Museum. 



Collecting Seashells 

By Kathleen Yerger Johnstone. New York: 
Grosset & Dunlap, 1970. 198 pp. $5.95. 

Shell collecting, which has always enjoyed 
a considerable popularity among amateur 
naturalists, seems to be on the increase, to 
judge from the ever-growing number of 
books appearing on the market devoted to 
this hobby. What merits the addition of yet 
another volume on the subject? 



Mrs. Johnstone wisely chose not to make 
this another identification manual — these 
exist in ample number for all levels of 
interest. Rather, she attempts to lead the 
amateur from the stage of collecting, 
willy-nilly, the pretty exoskeletons of that 
vast animal phylum termed the Mollusca to 
a serious study of the inhabitants which 
constructed the shells and the environments 
in which they live. 

Many of the 26 chapters in her book cover 
the basics, from what a seashell is, what 
mollusks are, the details of where and how 
to collect, cleaning and curing, through the 
important though often neglected tasks of 
record-keeping and cataloging, to hints on 
display and exhibition. What sets this book 
off from most of its predecessors is the 
repeated urging for the amateur to turn his 
attention from the spectacular to the 
commonplace, to observe and record the 
biological facts of the living animal. The 
scientific contribution of amateurs in other 
phases of natural history is well known, and 
this reviewer has felt that the elevation of 
the amateur in malacology is long overdue. 
The title of Mrs. Johnstone's 19th chapter — 
"Stop, Look, and Learn" — might well be 
taken as a watchword for all amateur 
naturalists, both in the field and in a museum. 

Six full-color photographs and numerous 
black-and-white photographs and line 
drawings illustrate the book. Rounding out 
the volume are sections on suggested 
reading, museum and aquarium exhibits, 
and an annotated bibliography. I wish the 
author had given a bit more information on 
the attractive endpapers, reproduced from a 
copy of Historia Naturale di Ferrante in the 
collection of the Museum of Comparative 
Zoology, Harvard University. The 
bibliography will lead the interested reader 
into the much broader field of marine 
biology and oceanography, the ecological 
aspects of which require serious attention 
from all intelligent persons today. The 
three-fourths of this planet covered by 
marine waters is at least as important for 
life as the one-fourth covered by land that 
we live on. 

by Ernest J. Roscoe, lecturer in the 
Department of Education's Raymond 
Foundation, Field Museum. 



Please address all letters to the editor to 

Bulletin 

Field Museum of Natural History 
Roosevelt Road and Lake Shore Drive 
Chicago, Illinois 60605 

The editors reserve the right to edit 
letters for length. 



1B 



BULLETIN DECEMBER 1971 



CALENDAR 



Exhibits 

Through December 31 
The Afro-Amertcan Style, From the Design 
Works of Bedford-Stuyvesant, an exhibit 
of textiles blending classical African motifs 
and contemporary design. The original 
Field Museum Benin artifacts which 
inspired many of the designs are also 
shown. Financial assistance for the exhibit 
was received from the CNA Foundation, 
Chicago, and the Illinois Arts Council, a 
state agency. Hall 9. 

Through January 9 

Studies In Jade, a selection of books from 
Field Museum's library, featured in the 
South Lounge to coincide with the recent 
opening of the new Hall of Jades. Included 
are The Bishop Collection, Investigations 
and Studies in Jade, in two volumes, and 
Chinese Jade Carvings ol the XVIth to the 
XlXth Centuries in the Collection of 
Mrs. Georg Vetlesen, in three volumes. 

Continuing 

Color In Nature, an exhibit examining the 
nature and variety of color in the physical 
and living world, and how it functions 
in plants and animals. It focuses on the 
many roles of color, as in mimicry, 
camouflage, warning, sexual recognition 
and selection, energy channeling, and 
vitamin production, using Museum 
specimens as examples. Continues 
indefinitely. Hall 25. 

Reld Museum's 75th Anniversary Exhibit 

continues indefinitely. "A Sense of Wonder" 
offers thought-provoking prose and poetry 
associated with physical, biological, and 
cultural aspects of nature; "A Sense of 
History" presents a graphic portrayal of the 
Museum's past; and "A Sense of 
Discovery" shows examples of research 
conducted by Museum scientists. Hall 3. 

John James Audutwn's elephant folio. 
The Birds ot America, on display In the 
North Lounge. A different plate from the 
rare, first-edition volumes is featured 
each day. 



Hour* 

B a.m. to 4 p.m. Monday ttirough Tliuraday; 
9 a.m. to 9 p.m. Friday: 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. 
Saturday and Sunday. Dacambar 27 through SO, 
B a.m. to 5 p.m. 

Cloaad Chrlatmaa Day and Naw Yaar'a Day. 

The MuMum Library la open 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. 
Monday through Friday. Please obtain paa* 
at reception deak, main floor north. 



Film and Tour Program 

Decemt>er 1 through December 24 
"Winter Greens," a self-guided tour, 
designed to acquaint visitors with plants 
that are p>opular during the Christmas 
season. Free tour sheets are available at 
Museum entrances. 

December 27 through December 31 
"Through These Doors," a color film 
focusing on behind-the-scenes activities at 
the Museum, is shown at 1:15 p.m. in the 
second floor North Meeting Room. A 
guided "highlights" tour leaves at 2 p.m. 
from the North information desk. 

Continues indefinitely 
Free Natural History Film "Patterns for 
Survival" (A Study of Mimicry) presented 
at 11 a.m. and 1 p.m. on Saturdays, and 
11 a.m., 1 p.m., and 3 p.m. on Sundays in 
the second floor North Meeting Room. 
The half-hour film offers an overall view of 
protective coloration in insects and 
provides visitors with an insight into the 
"Color in Nature" exhibit 

Children's Program 

"Faces of Africa," Winter Journey for 
Children, begins December 1. Youngsters 
test their powers of observation by 
answering written questions and making 
sketches of African masks in Museum 
exhibit areas while on a self-guided tour. 
All boys and girls who can read and write 



may participate. Journey sheets are 
available at Museum entrances. Through 
February 29. 

Musical Program 

December 5 

Metropolitan Youth Symphony presents 
a free concert at 2:30 p.m. in the 
James Simpson Theatre. 

December 18 

Christmas Muslcale, presented by the Stein 
Family Ensemble of Strings and Voices, 
from 1:30 to 3 p.m. in the North Lounge. 

Coming in January 

Opens January 11 

Coco-de-mer, an exhibit of the world's 
largest seed and its use by man, on 
display in the South Lounge through 
March 5. 

Opens January 20 

Australian Atiorlginal Art from Arnhem 
Land, a selection of more than 400 bark 
paintings and some wooden ceremonial 
sculptures. The exhibit is unique because 
of the documentation accompanying most 
of the pieces, including information about 
the artists, when they were painted, their 
use, and the region in which they were 
produced. The material is from the 
extensive collection of Louis A. Allen of 
Palo Alto, California. Through September 
10. Hall 27. 

A Reminder 

Make your visit to Field Museum early in 
the day Sunday, December 19, a date the 
Chicago Bears will play in Soldier Field. 
Because of this afternoon game, the 
Southeast parking facilities will be filled 
and the North lot reserved for Museum 
guests undoubtedly strained to capacity. 



A Field Museum membership would be a special kind of Holiday gift for some of those 
special people you want to rememl>er at this season. They would appreciate your 
thoughtfulness not Just once but all through the year. For each gift membership we will 
send an announcement greeting card in your name and portfolio of four color reproduc- 
tions of bird paintings done by the distinguished American artist Louis Agassiz Fuertes 
on a Field Museum expedition to East Africa. 



Clip and mail to Field Muaaum of Natural HIatory, RooaaiMll Rd. at Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, III. SOSOS 
Ploase tend the following out Uembenhip Q Cheek encloted payable to Field Muaeum 

Q Annua/ $15 Q Aatoclate $160 Q LUe $S00 Q Pleue bill me m lollomt: 
In my nam* to: 



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