Birds Found on the Arctic Slope of Northern Alaska

As promised, here are a few heartbreaking excerpts from one of my favorite scientific publications, Birds Found on the Arctic Slope of Northern Alaska by James W. Bee (University of Kansas Publications, Museum of Natural History, 1958). First, the author lovingly thanks his wife, Annette, who "typed the manuscript and made numerous corrections." It reminds me of Vera Nabokov faithfully typing her husband's manuscript of Ada. She had to have known everything, that he was in love, and not just with the English language.

The volume cryptically begins, "In the summers of 1951 and 1952 some data on birds were gathered incidental to a study of the mammals of the Arctic Slope of northern Alaska." This sounds very much like the last page of Things Fall Apart. The life and death of these birds in love may be of some limited interest, worthy of a few pages (let's not get carried away, a solid paragraph will do). Data was collected only incidentally. To paint the scene, the author offers this description, "the area is the treeless tundra delimited by the crest of Brooks Range to the south, the international boundary to the east and the Arctic Ocean to the north and west."

Suddenly, Bee writes, "Three hundred and fifty-one birds of 44 species were collected. Twenty-nine additional species were seen." When he says collected, he truly means it. The birds described were all shot and killed. Naked violence! In the name of science! Now, prepare yourself this most heartrending passage:

"On July 3, 1952, between Umiat and Ivashak River, pairs of Arctic loons were on only small and medium sized lakes; on this date they mostly were free of ice whereas large lakes were ice covered and thus unavailable to this species of loon. The tundra, at this time, when nesting has begun, is free of snow except for cornices and deposits in deep gullies. Willows and alders at Umiat on July 3 were without foliage, whereas these plants farther east were in leaf. On July 4, 1951, at two tenths of a mile south of the Arctic Research Laboratory, a single bird flew over the tundra and onto the Arctic Ocean beyond. It called regularly as it passed overhead. At Topagaruk (July 5, 1951) a pair of Arctic loons were nesting on the vegetated edges of a lake of medium size. On July 7, the female was killed as she left the nest. The wind blowing offshore drifted her toward the center of the lake. As she reached a point near the opposite side, the male alighted near the dead female and indulged in its courtship display of raising and lowering its head and neck. Swimming around the mate several times he continued to solicit attention from the lifeless form. An hour later we examined the offshore and found the dead female among the sedges. Arctic loons on several adjacent lakes could be heard. The male that had been deprived of its mate, did not respond. The female weighed 1200 grams" (171).

The male's behavior can be described as nothing else but an act of despair. Oh, the pathos of ornithology. Please destroy me. That is quite possibly the most poetic thing I have ever read. James Bee, sir, with all due respect, what if it had been Annette?

The back cover provides a list of similar natural history publications available through the University of Kansas, including the terrifying, Studies of Birds Killed in Nocturnal Migration. I have been trying, without success, to get my hands on it.

Finally, this note, left on the concluding page, gives me an idea: "All specimens are skeletons, unless otherwise noted in the text, and are catalogued and housed at the Museum of Natural History, University of Kansas" (211). I recently applied to the University of Kansas for a graduate school program. If I attend next year, I plan to visit them and pay my respects. The bodies of Arctic birds may keep me company on the Great Plains. We will only have each other.