Volume 42, Number 1 January 1971

Field Museum of Natural History

\fk''-f';.J-'^^-. !f^^

fv *% « JA'<*

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 0 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

o

-o

p:

t-

\ji

w

M

■v3

w

^

^

•

tn

O

c

r-

a;

o

r

•-5

as

X

3=

•z.

z

«

*T7

w

>

H

J—

»

P3

t-

w

T*

t-

>-. -.

»—

00

W

is

o

S2

o

c:

Oi

t-'

r^

C/V

<
>

c-

a3

o

o

f—

VI

—J

ay2, Number 2 February- 197!

Fiel^)(/luseum of Natural History

^r:'>

•" ^w

¥£

fi

mj

^m^.

v'M#

^&'li£:r"

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
are their own and do not necessarily reflect the policy of Field Museum. Unsolicited manuscripts are welcome. Cover 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 Lal<e Shore Drive, Chicago, Illinois 60605.

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.

0

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 0 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

^m..

i

^'^'*^^^" ■ '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

BULLETIN

^

^ ^ cs

CO

•a-%:%^%%ts'»

CD 52

c/> c^

o s ^ i? ^

^ ^ ^ i^ c^ ^ ^

5 S 5r -^ i** .•§* iiS>

CO

<T ^ .b i? <?? /ii' -«^ v^

EXTERIOR WALLS i
EXTERIOR WALLS ^
HEJ^TING

vimoovis

-- ^ 2N^ xj' oy <>> ^ V

Vf

JAMES SIMPSON THEATRE
TUCKPOINTING

aECTRICAL SYSTEM

%%/%

% ^^j*

'fs

^ ^
^

<^.<s

^^ ####1 3

^^.ccct:%;'"t:^^'

%

■* # /^ o5 •*
^ ^ ^ *i^

^ # #

5 s ^ ^ v»

(/>

(/>

v>

v>

^^Jrn^^A^

1^

2

^A^yW^

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

((L

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,
as well as painted copies, he chose

P

1

1

1

■

■■

^^^^^^^IhJ1L.^3£^^^3^^^S

gSgJjfJ^

H

■

1

^1^1

^^^^R^H

p^HHh

l^^^^^^^B^:. ' ^^

|H

'^m

1

■

1

|H

^^^H

Hg^

^B^^^B^^-ii^^^ ^> T '

i. ' ^^''

1

I

^i^fl

^^jS

S^^v^i

^

H

M

?W

1

i

^■h..-

..in^

, .J*-

,^,^T,'Y'V^-J1H

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:

Qitt racipient'a na

My

Addraaa

CHy State Zip City Stat*

n S»nd bird prtntt to gift nclpleet Q Send Mrd prfnta lo me

Plaaea put Information for additional giti memberehipe en a aaparal* ahaat

ZIP