MUSEUM OF NATURE

Press, Volume CIX, Issue 32222, 14 February 1970, Page 14

MUSEUM OF NATURE

Osteology, The Science Of Bones

(Contributed b« the Canterbury Museumj

There once was a man by the name of Jones, Who all his life collected bones, 'Till Death, that grim and bony spectre, ' ■ t. That universal bone collector. Bagged old Jones,, all neat and tidy. And there he lies, all BONA fide. 4 I dp not know the author of that amusing doggerel, which I heard from a friend some 30 years ago, but it seems an appropriate piece with which to begin an account of the work of an osteologist, or “bone bloke.” A correspondent to “The Press” has suggested that this series give some idea of the day-to-day work “behind the scenes” in the Canterbury Museum. Osteology is the science of bones, their study, identification, and interpretation. People who make this study their life work are a comparatively small band, scattered in many countries. There are few of us in New Zealand. My own work, although it covers mammals and reptiles, is mainly concerned with bird bones.

The Canterbury Museum has the best reference collection of such material in New Zealand. It owes much |to the efforts of two former (curators of the museum, Dr (Julius von Haast, who began ■ the study collection of moa skeletons, and Dr Henry 0. Forbes, one of the outstanding osteologists of his day. Birds Discovered In the last 30 years, and particularly in the last 20, thanks to excavation- in the “treasure-store" of Pyramid Valley and other swamps, and the generous co-operation I of speleologists (“cavers”), archaeologists, and members of the general public, this collection has been greatly enhanced, although there are still serious gaps. A number of extinct birds, hitherto unknown, have been discovered, and many of these have now been described and named. Supposing, as often happens, someone brings in a I bone from a swamp or cave, and wishes to know what it jis. An experienced bone- ■ worker will usually be able to !tell at a glance whether it is of a mammal or bird, and often to what species it belongs. Often such bones are of introduced mammals—!cow, horse, or sheep, which [ is disappointing to the finder ■—but “Better luck next time.” If the bone is, however, of a moa or some other bird, a native rat, or perhaps a (tuatara, then obviously it is of considerable interest. ! Usually, in such cases, the finder generously gives it to I the museum. Numbered And Stored In such a case, it is cleaned, if necessary, entered in a main accession book, given a number in the appropriate catalogue, the number entered on the bone, and the particulars entered in a card index. A label with the number allotted, the name, locality, date, name of finder, and any other relevant particulars, accompanies the bone, which is then placed in a box, and -added to the reference collection, unless needed for display. Identification is also undertaken for other museums, archaeologists, and other in-

terested people. This may all seem a matter of simple ; routine, but the identifica- i tion of a broken bone from a Maori midden, or the wing i of a small bush bird, may take many hours of compari- I son. i Much of an osteologists' work is routine, but every 1 now and then an exciting 1 find is made, which richly re- 1 pays the hours of tedious ' work and eyestrain. Perhaps ’ it is because of such scientific rewards that one is mad enough to remain an osteologist. One thing is certain: with-

out the co-operation of archaeologists, who put in many hours of patient trowelling and brushing, cavers who risk life and limb “for the heck of it”—l know, I belong to both groups—and members of the public who find things, the museum collection would be much less, and the work far less rewarding. The Canterbury Museum owes ail such good friends its grateful thanks.—R.J.S. Illustration shows the writer, about 1951, studying bones of the Anomaiopteryx moa in the Otago Museum.