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Guide to the
Dissection of the Dog
This page intentionally left blank
Guide to the
Dissection of the Dog
Eighth Edition

Howard E. Evans, PhD, AVMA (Hon.)

Professor Emeritus of Veterinary and Comparative Anatomy
Department of Biomedical Sciences
College of Veterinary Medicine
Cornell University
Ithaca, New York

Alexander de Lahunta, DVM, PhD, DACVIM-Neurology,

DACVP (Hon.)
James Law Professor of Veterinary Anatomy, Emeritus
College of Veterinary Medicine
Cornell University
Ithaca, New York
 3251 Riverport Lane
St. Louis, Missouri 63043

GUIDE TO THE DISSECTION OF THE DOG, EIGHTH EDITION ISBN: 978-0-323-39165-8

Copyright © 2017 by Elsevier, Inc. All rights reserved.

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This book and the individual contributions contained in it are protected under copyright by the
Publisher (other than as may be noted herein).

Notices

Knowledge and best practice in this ield are constantly changing. As new research and experience
broaden our understanding, changes in research methods, professional practices, or medical
treatment may become necessary.
Practitioners and researchers must always rely on their own experience and knowledge in
evaluating and using any information, methods, compounds, or experiments described herein.
In using such information or methods they should be mindful of their own safety and the safety of
others, including parties for whom they have a professional responsibility.
With respect to any drug or pharmaceutical products identiied, readers are advised to check
the most current information provided (i) on procedures featured or (ii) by the manufacturer of
each product to be administered, to verify the recommended dose or formula, the method and
duration of administration, and contraindications. It is the responsibility of practitioners, relying
on their own experience and knowledge of their patients, to make diagnoses, to determine dosages
and the best treatment for each individual patient, and to take all appropriate safety precautions.
To the fullest extent of the law, neither the Publisher nor the authors, contributors, or editors,
assume any liability for any injury and/or damage to persons or property as a matter of products
liability, negligence or otherwise, or from any use or operation of any methods, products,
instructions, or ideas contained in the material herein.

Previous editions copyright © 2010, 2004, 2000, 1996, 1988, 1980, 1971.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Evans, Howard E., author. | DeLahunta, Alexander, 1932- author.
Title: Guide to the dissection of the dog / Howard E. Evans, PhD, Professor
Emeritus of Veterinary and Comparative Anatomy, Department of Biomedical
Sciences, New York State College of Veterinary Medicine, Cornell
University, Ithaca, New York; Alexander de Lahunta, DVM, PhD, DACVIM,
DACVP, James Law Professor of Veterinary Anatomy, Emeritus Rye, New
Hampshire.
Description: Eighth Edition. | St. Louis, Missouri : Elsevier, [2017] |
Includes bibliographical references and index.
Identiiers: LCCN 2015038543 | ISBN 9780323391658 (hardcover : alk. paper)
Subjects: LCSH: Dogs--Anatomy. | Dogs--Dissection.
Classiication: LCC QL813.D64 M54 2017 | DDC 636.7--dc23 LC record available at http://lccn.loc.
gov/2015038543

Director, Content Strategy: Penny Rudolph

Content Development Manager: Jolynn Gower
Senior Content Development Specialist: Brian Loehr
Publishing Services Manager: Jeff Patterson
Book Production Specialist: Carol O’Connell
Design Direction: Brian Salisbury

Printed in China

Last digit is the print number: 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1


This edition of Guide to the Dissection of the Dog
has changed considerably since it was irst pub-
lished as a paperback in 1947 by Malcolm Miller,
DVM, PhD, previously Professor and Head of the
Department of Anatomy in the New York State
Veterinary College at Cornell University. In 1971,
Miller’s Guide to the Dissection of the Dog by Evans
and de Lahunta was published in a new format
with additional illustrations. Subsequent editions
altered the procedures for dissection, added illus-
trations, and gave instructions for palpation of
the live dog. Several editions have been trans-
lated into Japanese, Spanish, Portuguese, Korean,
and Chinese. This eighth edition includes changes
in many igures and the addition of new ones.
There is a short atlas of transverse sections of
the dog brain selected from the Brain of the Dog
in Section, by Marcus Singer, and relabeled in
Preface
accordance with present nomenclature. All terms
used are from the latest, free electronic version of
the ifth edition of Nomina Anatomica Veterinaria.
The purpose of this guide is to facilitate a thor-
ough dissection so as to learn basic mammalian
structure and speciic features of the dog. We
have attempted to emphasize what we believe is
essential anatomical knowledge for a veterinary
curriculum. The descriptions are based on the
dissection of embalmed, arterially injected adult
dogs of mixed breeds.
A more detailed consideration of the structures
dissected can be found in the fourth edition
of Miller’s Anatomy of the Dog by Evans and de
Lahunta published in 2013 by Elsevier.
Howard E. Evans
Alexander de Lahunta
Acknowledgments
We are grateful to many students and
colleagues throughout the world for their cor-
rections and helpful suggestions for improve-
ment. Of particular help were Professors Wally
Cash of Kansas State, Anton Hoffman of Texas
A&M, Elaine Coleman and Mahmoud Mansour
of Auburn University, and Gheorghe Constan-
tinescu at the University of Missouri in Co-
lumbia, Missouri. We have tried to strike a
balance in detail so that teachers can choose
what suits their courses best. Our teaching col-
leagues at Cornell—Marne Fitzmaurice, Abra-
ham Bezuidenhout, Cornelia Farnum, Linda
Mizer, John Hermanson, and Paul Maza—have
been very helpful. All of our former Deans—
George Poppensiek, Robert Phemister, Edward
Melby, Franklin Loew, and Donald Smith—
have supported our efforts. Our former Dean,
Michael Kotlikoff, now Provost of Cornell Uni-
versity, continues to encourage us. Technical
and clerical support was cheerfully provided
by Pamela Schenck and Jen Patterson. Our vet-
erinary college librarians were very helpful,
particularly Susanne Whitaker.
Most of the illustrations were prepared by
the late Marion Newson, RN, medical illustra-
tor in the Department of Anatomy. Other draw-
ings were made by former illustrators Pat
Barrow, Louis Sadler, and William Hamilton.
We especially thank Michael Simmons, the past
College Illustrator, for his illustrations and
skillful corrections.
 Contents

1 ANATOMICAL TERMINOLOGY, 1
Medical Etymology and Anatomical Nomenclature, 2
Directional Terms, 2
Dissection, 4

2 THE SKELETAL AND MUSCULAR SYSTEMS, 6

Bones of the Thoracic Limb, 7
Muscles of the Thoracic Limb, 16
Joints of the Thoracic Limb, 40
Bones of the Pelvic Limb, 42
Muscles of the Pelvic Limb, 51
Joints of the Pelvic Limb, 72
Bones of the Vertebral Column and Thorax, 77
Muscles of the Trunk and Neck, 84
Joints of the Axial Skeleton, 94

3 THE NECK, THORAX, AND THORACIC LIMB, 96

Vessels and Nerves of the Neck, 97
Thorax, 98
Introduction to the Autonomic Nervous System, 115
Heart and Pericardium, 120
Vessels and Nerves of the Thoracic Limb, 125

4 THE ABDOMEN, PELVIS, AND PELVIC LIMB, 148

Vessels and Nerves of the Ventral and Lateral Parts of the Abdominal Wall, 149
Abdominal Viscera, 156
Pelvic Viscera, Vessels, and Nerves, 182
Vessels and Nerves of the Pelvic Limb, 197

5 THE HEAD, 218

The Skull, 219
Structures of the Head, 236

6 THE NERVOUS SYSTEM, 277

Meninges, 278
Arteries, 279
Veins, 280
Brain, 282
Spinal Cord, 307
Bibliography, 314
Index, 315
This page intentionally left blank

Fig. 1-1 Directional terms, 3
Fig. 2-1 Skeleton of male dog. A, Lateral view of
skeleton. B, Ventral view of skeleton, 7
Fig. 2-2 Topography of appendicular skeleton, 9
Fig. 2-3 Left scapula. A, Lateral surface. B, Medial
surface, 9
Fig. 2-4 Left scapula, ventral angle, 10
Fig. 2-5 Left humerus, cranial and caudal views, 10
Fig. 2-6 A, Left radius and ulna articulated, cra-
nial aspect. B, Left radius with ulna articulated,
caudal aspect. C, Left radius, caudal view, 12
Fig. 2-7 Left ulna, cranial view, 13
Fig. 2-8 Bones of left forepaw, dorsal view, 14
Fig. 2-9 Bones of left forepaw, palmar view, 15
Fig. 2-10 Left forelimb skeleton and lexor sur-
faces of the joints, 16
Fig. 2-11 Dissection position and irst skin inci-
sions, 17
Fig. 2-12 Supericial muscles of neck and thorax,
ventral view, 19
Fig. 2-13 Left forelimb skeleton, lateral view of
muscle attachments, 21
Fig. 2-14 Left forelimb skeleton, medial view of
muscle attachments, 22
Fig. 2-15 Supericial muscles of left scapula and
brachium, 23
Fig. 2-16 Deeper muscles of left scapula, bra-
chium, and antebrachium, 24
Fig. 2-17 Transverse section through middle of
left scapula, 25
Fig. 2-18 Transverse section through middle of
right brachium, 25
Fig. 2-19 Muscles of left thoracic limb, medial
view, 28
Fig. 2-20 Muscles of left antebrachium, cranial
view, 30
Fig. 2-21 Transverse section of right antebrachium
between proximal and middle thirds, 33
Fig. 2-22 Transverse section of right carpus
through accessory carpal bone, 33
Fig. 2-23 Muscles of left antebrachium, caudal
view, 34
Fig. 2-24 Deep muscles of left antebrachium,
caudal view, 35
Fig. 2-25 Rotators of left antebrachium, 36
Illustrations
Fig. 2-26 Third digit, medial view, 37
Fig. 2-27 Major extensors and lexors of left
forelimb, 38
Fig. 2-28 Ligaments of left shoulder joint, lateral
and medial views, 40
Fig. 2-29 Capsule of left shoulder joint, lateral
and medial views, 41
Fig. 2-30 Left elbow joint, medial aspect, 41
Fig. 2-31 Left elbow joint. A, Cranial aspect.
B, Lateral aspect, 42
Fig. 2-32 Left hip bone, 15-week-old beagle, 43
Fig. 2-33 Left hip bone, lateral view, 44
Fig. 2-34 A, Left hip bone, medial view. B, Pelvis
and sacrum, caudodorsal view, 45
Fig. 2-35 Bones of left pelvic limb, 46
Fig. 2-36 A, Left femur, cranial view. B, Left
femur, caudal view, 47
Fig. 2-37 A, Left tibia and ibula, cranial view. B,
Articulated left tibia and ibula, caudal view, 49
Fig. 2-38 A, Left tarsal and metatarsal bones
disarticulated, dorsal view. B, Left tarsus, ar-
ticulated, medial aspect, 50
Fig. 2-39 Median section of the third digit of the
hindpaw, 51
Fig. 2-40 Schematic transection in the lumbar re-
gion showing fascial layers, 52
Fig. 2-41 Supericial muscles of left pelvic limb,
lateral view, 53
Fig. 2-42 A, Supericial muscles of left pelvic limb,
medial view. B, Deep muscles of left pelvic
limb, medial view, 55
Fig. 2-43 Deep muscles of left pelvic limb, lateral
view, 57
Fig. 2-44 Muscle attachments on pelvis and left
pelvic limb, lateral view, 58
Fig. 2-45 Muscle attachments on pelvis and left
pelvic limb, medial view, 59
Fig. 2-46 Muscles of thigh. A, Supericial muscles,
medial aspect. B, Deep muscles, medial aspect, 60
Fig. 2-47 A, Transverse section of left thigh. B, Ad-
ductor magnus et brevis, adductor longus, pec-
tineus, and iliopsoas, cranial aspect. C, Adductor
magnus et brevis and adductor longus, cranial
aspect. D, Adductor magnus et brevis, quadratus
femoris, and articularis coxae, lateral aspect, 61
x ILLUSTRATIONS
Fig. 2-48 Muscles of left hip joint, dorsal aspect, 62
Fig. 2-49 Deep muscles medial to left hip joint, 63
Fig. 2-50 A, Left femur with muscle attachments,
caudal view. B, Left femur with muscle attach-
ments, cranial view, 63
Fig. 2-51 Sublumbar muscles, deep dissec-
tion, ventral aspect. The psoas major and
psoas minor have been removed on the
right side, 64
Fig. 2-52 A, Left tibia and ibula with muscle at-
tachments, cranial view. B, Left tibia and ibula
with muscle attachments, lateral view. C, Left
tibia and ibula with muscle attachments, cau-
dal view. D, Left tibia and ibula with muscle
attachments, medial view, 66
Fig. 2-53 Muscles of left pelvic limb, cranial view,
67
Fig. 2-54 Muscles of left pelvic limb, lateral view, 68
Fig. 2-55 A, Deep muscles of left crus, caudal
view. B, Muscles of left crus, medial aspect, 69.
C, Muscles of left pelvic limb, caudal view, 68
Fig. 2-56 Transverse section of left crus, 70
Fig. 2-57 Major lexors and extensors of pelvic
limb, 71
Fig. 2-58 Ligaments of pelvis, dorsal view, 73
Fig. 2-59 Ligaments of pelvis, ventral view, 73
Fig. 2-60 A, Ligaments of left stile joint, caudal
view. B, Ligaments of left stile joint, cranial
view. C, Ligaments of left stile joint, lateral view.
D, Ligaments of left stile joint, medial view, 74
Fig. 2-61 Capsule of left stile joint, 75
Fig. 2-62 Cruciate and meniscal ligaments of left
stile joint, medial aspect, 75
Fig. 2-63 Menisci and ligaments, proximal end of
left tibia, 76
Fig. 2-64 Left patella and ibrocartilages, articular
surface, 76
Fig. 2-65 Atlas, dorsal view, 78
Fig. 2-66 Axis, left lateral view, 78
Fig. 2-67 Atlas and axis articulated, craniolateral
aspect, 78
Fig. 2-68 Fifth cervical vertebra, craniolateral as-
pect, 79
Fig. 2-69 Seventh cervical vertebra, caudal aspect, 79
Fig. 2-70 A, Sixth thoracic vertebra, left lateral
view. B, Twelfth and thirteenth thoracic verte-
brae, left lateral view. C, Sixth thoracic verte-
bra, cranial lateral aspect, 80
Fig. 2-71 A, Fourth lumbar vertebra, left lateral
view. B, Fifth lumbar vertebra, caudolateral
view. C, Intervertebral disc in lumbar region of
10-week-old pup, cranial view, 81
Fig. 2-72 A, Sacrum, ventral view. B, Sacrum,
left lateral view. C, Sacrum, dorsal aspect.
D, Sacrum, caudal lateral aspect, 82
Fig. 2-73 A, Third caudal vertebra, dorsal view. B,
Fourth caudal vertebra, cranial view. C, Sixth
caudal vertebra, dorsal and lateral views, 82
Fig. 2-74 Rib cage and sternum, ventral view, 83
Fig. 2-75 Rib cage and sternum, right lateral
view, 83
Fig. 2-76 A, Muscles of neck and thorax, lateral
view. B, Supericial muscles of thoracic cage,
lateral aspect. (M. serratus ventralis [thoracis]
has been removed.), C, Deep muscles of thorax,
lateral aspect, 85
Fig. 2-77 Muscles of abdominal wall, ventral
view, 86
Fig. 2-78 Abdominal wall in ventral view with
transections at three levels, 87
Fig. 2-79 Abdominal muscles and inguinal region
of the male, supericial dissection, left side, 88
Fig. 2-80 Abdominal muscles and inguinal region
of the male, deep dissection, left side, 89
Fig. 2-81 Schema of epaxial muscles. Each of the
named muscles shown can be present, span-
ning other vertebrae, thus overlapping and
obscuring their individual nature, 91
Fig. 2-82 A, Deep muscles of neck, left side.
B, Topography of the epaxial muscles, 92
Fig. 2-83 Ligaments of atlas and axis, dorsolateral
view, 94
Fig. 2-84 Nuchal ligament, 95
Fig. 2-85 Ligaments of vertebral column and ribs,
ventral view, 95
Fig. 2-86 Ligaments of vertebral column and ribs,
dorsal view, 95
Fig. 3-1 Ventral branches of cervical spinal nerves
emerging through the lateral musculature, 98
Fig. 3-2 Supericial nerves of the neck, lateral
aspect, 99
Fig. 3-3 Supericial structures of scapula and
brachium, lateral view, 100
Fig. 3-4 A, Schematic transection of thoracic wall
to show distribution of an intercostal artery.
B, Diaphragm, thoracic surface, 101
Fig. 3-5 Intercostal arteries as seen within rib
cage, 101
Fig. 3-6 Schema of a thoracic spinal nerve, 102
Fig. 3-7 Supericial vessels and nerves of thorax,
right lateral view, 102
Fig. 3-8 A, Schematic transverse section of thorax
through cranial mediastinum, caudal view. B, CT
image, cranial thorax, 104

Fig. 3-9 A, Schematic transverse section of thorax
through heart, caudal view. B, CT image, mid-
thorax. C, CT image, caudal thorax, 105
Fig. 3-10 Left lung, medial view, 106
Fig. 3-11 Thoracic viscera within the rib cage, left
lateral view, 106
Fig. 3-12 Thoracic viscera within the rib cage,
right lateral view, 107
Fig. 3-13 Schematic bronchial tree of the dog, in
dorsal view. Letters and numbers identify the
principal, lobar, and segmental bronchi by their
bronchoscopic order of origin and their ana-
tomical orientation, 108
Fig. 3-14 A, Arteries of thorax, right lateral view.
B, Variations of the thoracic duct and its en-
trance into the cranial vena cava, 109
Fig. 3-15 A, Veins of the neck, ventral aspect. B,
The relation of the common carotid arteries to
the larynx, trachea, and related structures, ven-
tral aspect, 111
Fig. 3-16 Arteries of thorax, left lateral view, 113
Fig. 3-17 Heart and great vessels, ventral view, 114
Fig. 3-18 Branches of aortic arch, ventral view, 115
Fig. 3-19 Branches of brachiocephalic trunk, right
lateral view, 115
Fig. 3-20 Thoracic autonomic nerves, left lateral
view, lung removed, 116
Fig. 3-21 Peripheral distribution of sympathetic
and parasympathetic divisions, 118
Fig. 3-22 A, Interior of right atrium, right lateral
aspect. B, Dorsal aspect of heart, 121
Fig. 3-23 Interior of right ventricle, left lateral
aspect, 122
Fig. 3-24 Interior of left ventricle, left lateral
aspect, 122
Fig. 3-25 Atrioventricular, aortic, and pulmonary
valves, dorsoventral view, 124
Fig. 3-26 Branches of supericial cervical artery, 126
Fig. 3-27 A, Brachial plexus, right thoracic limb, me-
dial aspect, B, Schema of the cervical nerves and
brachial plexus. The numbers C-1 through C-8
and T-1 refer to spinal nerves, not vertebrae. C,
The right brachial plexus, medial aspect, 127
Fig. 3-28 Vessels of right axillary region, medial
view, 130
Fig. 3-29 A, Arteries of right forelimb, schematic
medial view. B, Arteries of the right brachium,
medial aspect. C, Arteries of the right bra-
chium, caudolateral aspect, 131
Fig. 3-30 A, Deep structures, right antebrachium
and elbow, medial view. B, Arteries of the right
antebrachium, medial aspect, 134
ILLUSTRATIONS xi
Fig. 3-31 Deep structures, right antebrachium and
elbow, lateral view, 136
Fig. 3-32 Distribution of musculocutaneous and
median nerves, right forelimb, schematic me-
dial view, 137
Fig. 3-33 Distribution of radial nerve, right fore-
limb, schematic lateral view, 138
Fig. 3-34 Distribution of ulnar nerve, right fore-
limb, schematic medial view, 138
Fig. 3-35 Veins of neck, thoracic inlet, and proxi-
mal forelimb, schematic cranial aspect, 140
Fig. 3-36 A, Arteries of the right antebrachium,
caudolateral aspect. (The shaft of the ulna is
removed.) B, Veins of right forelimb, schematic
medial view, 141
Fig. 3-37 Arteries, veins, and nerves of right fore-
paw, dorsal view, 143
Fig. 3-38 Arteries, veins, and nerves of right fore-
paw, palmar view, 144
Fig. 3-39 Autonomous zones of cutaneous inner-
vation of thoracic limb, 146
Fig. 3-40 Schema of blood supply and innervation
of digits, 146
Fig. 4-1 Topographic regions of thorax and abdo-
men, 149
Fig. 4-2 Supericial veins and arteries of abdo-
men. Left vaginal process exposed, 150
Fig. 4-3 Lateral view of the irst four lumbar
nerves, 151
Fig. 4-4 Diagram of transected vaginal process in
female and vaginal tunic in male, 152
Fig. 4-5 Schema of the vaginal tunic in the male,
152
Fig. 4-6 Male genitalia, ventral view, 153
Fig. 4-7 Structures of testes and scrotum. A, Right
testis, lateral aspect. B, Left testis, medial aspect.
C, Schematic cross-section through scrotum and
testes, 153
Fig. 4-8 Diagram of peritoneal relections, sagittal
section, 155
Fig. 4-9 Viscera of the dog. A, Male dog, left lat-
eral view. B, Female dog, right lateral view, 157
Fig. 4-10 Abdominal mesenteries. Schematic
transverse section at the level of the spleen, 158
Fig. 4-11 Abdominal viscera of the male dog, ven-
tral aspect, 158
Fig. 4-12 Female urogenital system, ventral aspect,
159
Fig. 4-13 Duodenum and transverse colon in rela-
tion to the root of the mesentery, 160
Fig. 4-14 CT image, cranial abdomen, 160
Fig. 4-15 Diaphragm, abdominal view, 161
xii ILLUSTRATIONS
Fig. 4-16 Liver, diaphragmatic aspect. Dog in
dorsal recumbency: cranial to caudal view, 161
Fig. 4-17 Liver, visceral aspect. Dog in dorsal
recumbency: caudal to cranial view, 162
Fig. 4-18 Biliary and pancreatic ducts. A, Topo-
graphic relations, ventral view. B, Interior of
the duodenum with the tunica mucosa re-
moved to show musculus proprius in relation
to the ducts and major duodenal papilla, 163
Fig. 4-19 Longitudinal section of stomach and
proximal duodenum. Dog in dorsal recum-
bency: caudal to cranial view, 164
Fig. 4-20 A, MRI of cranial abdomen. B, Lateral
radiograph of the abdomen with barium, 164
Fig. 4-21 Longitudinal section through ileocolic
junction showing cecocolic oriice, 165
Fig. 4-22 Kidneys and adrenal glands, ventral
view, 166
Fig. 4-23 Details of kidney structure. A, Sectioned
in dorsal plane, off center. B, Sectioned in mid-
dorsal plane. C, Transverse section. D, Cast of
renal pelvis, dorsal view. E, Cast of renal pel-
vis, medial view, 167
Fig. 4-24 Female genitalia opened on the midline,
dorsal view, 168
Fig. 4-25 Relations of left ovary and ovarian
bursa. A, Lateral aspect. B, Lateral aspect,
bursa opened. C, Medial aspect. D, Section
through ovary and bursa, 169
Fig. 4-26 Peritoneal schema. Transverse section
through the epiploic foramen, 170
Fig. 4-27 Exposure of abdominal autonomic ner-
vous system on left side, 172
Fig. 4-28 Branches of abdominal aorta and tribu-
taries of the caudal vena cava, ventral view, 175
Fig. 4-29 Branches of celiac and cranial mesen-
teric arteries with principal anastomoses, 176
Fig. 4-30 Blood supply of the spleen, 177
Fig. 4-31 Branches of cranial and caudal mesen-
teric arteries, ventral aspect, 178
Fig. 4-32 Terminations of ileocolic artery, 178
Fig. 4-33 Abdominal aorta in relation to epigastric
arteries, lateral view, 179
Fig. 4-34 Tributaries of portal vein, ventral view, 180
Fig. 4-35 Schema of the venous system, right
lateral view, 181
Fig. 4-36 Normal portogram after catheterization
of a jejunal vein, 182
Fig. 4-37 Autonomic nerves and vessels of pelvic
region, left lateral view, 183
Fig. 4-38 Arteries of female pelvic viscera, right
lateral view, 185
Fig. 4-39 Arteries of male pelvic viscera, right lat-
eral view, 185
Fig. 4-40 Vessels of penis and prepuce, 186
Fig. 4-41 A, Median section through male pelvic
region. B, Diagram of peritoneal relections
and the male genitalia, 187
Fig. 4-42 Bladder, prostate, and associated struc-
tures. A, Dorsal view. B, Ventral view with
bladder and urethra opened on the midline, 188
Fig. 4-43 Ligaments and folds associated with the
bladder in the male, 188
Fig. 4-44 CT image of male pelvic cavity, 189
Fig. 4-45 A, Muscles of the anal region, left lateral
aspect, in the male. B, Lateral aspect of the
caudal and gluteal muscles, 190
Fig. 4-46 Section through anus, dorsal plane, 190
Fig. 4-47 Male perineum. A, Supericial muscles,
caudal aspect. B, Dorsal section through pelvic
cavity, 191
Fig. 4-48 Semidiagrammatic view of penis, 191
Fig. 4-49 Corrosion preparation of proximal half
of the penis, 192
Fig. 4-50 Median and transverse sections of the
penis, 192
Fig. 4-51 Os penis with transverse sections, left
lateral view, 193
Fig. 4-52 Female pelvic viscera, median section,
left lateral view, 194
Fig. 4-53 Schematic transection of female pelvic
cavity, 195
Fig. 4-54 Muscles of the female perineum, 195
Fig. 4-55 Arteries of right pelvic limb, schematic
medial view, 198
Fig. 4-56 Veins of right pelvic limb, schematic
medial view, 199
Fig. 4-57 Supericial veins of the right hind limb,
lateral aspect, 200
Fig. 4-58 Right lumbosacral nerves and left arter-
ies, ventral view, 201
Fig. 4-59 Nerves, arteries, and muscles of the
right hip, lateral aspect, 202
Fig. 4-60 Deep femoral artery, medial view, pec-
tineus muscle removed, and adductor tran-
sected, 203
Fig. 4-61 Arteries and nerves of right thigh and
crus, lateral view, 204
Fig. 4-62 Arteries and nerves of right popliteal
region, medial view, 205
Fig. 4-63 Arteries and veins of the thigh, superi-
cial dissection, medial aspect, 206
Fig. 4-64 Deep structures of the right thigh, medial
view, 207

Fig. 4-65 Lumbosacral plexus, right pelvic limb, 208
Fig. 4-66 Schematic medial view of right lumbar
and sacral nerves, 209
Fig. 4-67 Distribution of saphenous, femoral, and
obturator nerves of right pelvic limb, sche-
matic medial aspect, 210
Fig. 4-68 Vessels and nerves of right thigh and
perineum, lateral view, 211
Fig. 4-69 Diagram of lumbosacral plexus, lateral
aspect, 212
Fig. 4-70 Distribution of cranial and caudal glu-
teal nerves and sciatic nerve of right pelvic
limb, schematic lateral view, 213
Fig. 4-71 Arteries and nerves of right hindpaw,
dorsal view, 214
Fig. 4-72 Cranial tibial artery of right limb, cranial
view, 215
Fig. 4-73 Arteries and nerves of right hindpaw,
plantar view, 216
Fig. 4-74 Autonomous zones of cutaneous inner-
vation of the pelvic limb, medial, lateral, and
caudal aspects, 217
Fig. 5-1 Bones of skull, dorsal view, 219
Fig. 5-2 Bones of skull, lateral view, zygomatic
arch removed, 220
Fig. 5-3 Skull, hyoid apparatus, and larynx, lat-
eral view, 220
Fig. 5-4 Skull with foramina, lateral aspect
(zygomatic arch removed), 221
Fig. 5-5 Skull, ventral view, with right tympanic
bulla removed, 223
Fig. 5-6 Disarticulated puppy skull, ventral view,
224
Fig. 5-7 Bones of skull, ventral view, 225
Fig. 5-8 Diagrammatic transverse section of mid-
dle and inner ear, 226
Fig. 5-9 Occipital bones, caudolateral aspect, 226
Fig. 5-10 Disarticulated puppy skull, left lateral
view, 227
Fig. 5-11 A, Teeth of an adult dog. Sculptured to
show roots. B, Bite of the shearing teeth. Medial
view, right direction. C, Diagrammatic section
through a superior canine of an adult dog, 228
Fig. 5-12 Left and right mandibles, dorsal lateral
aspect, 229
Fig. 5-13 Hyoid bones, dorsolateral view, 229
Fig. 5-14 Skull with calvaria removed, dorsal
view, 231
Fig. 5-15 Sagittal section of skull, medial view, 231
Fig. 5-16 Transverse section of nasal cavity, 233
Fig. 5-17 A, CT image of midnasal cavities. B, Scheme
of the ventral conchae in cross-section, 233
ILLUSTRATIONS xiii
Fig. 5-18 A, Vomer and left ethmoid, lateral as-
pect. B, Vomer and medial aspect of left eth-
moid. C, Transverse section of the skull caudal
to the cribriform plate, 234
Fig. 5-19 CT image of caudal nasal cavities, 235
Fig. 5-20 CT image of caudal nasal cavities, 235
Fig. 5-21 A, Supericial muscles of the head, left
lateral view. B, Supericial muscles of the head,
lateral aspect. C, Deep muscles of the head and
ear, dorsal aspect. D, Deep muscles of the head
and ear, lateral aspect, 236
Fig. 5-22 Lateral aspect of orbit, 240
Fig. 5-23 Tongue, dorsal aspect, 240
Fig. 5-24 Salivary glands: parotid, mandibular,
sublingual, and zygomatic. Right mandible
removed, 241
Fig. 5-25 A, Midsagittal section of head. B, Dorsal
plane section of head and neck through the
digestive tube, ventral aspect, 243
Fig. 5-26 A, Transection of head through palatine
tonsil. B, The hyoid muscles and muscles of
the neck, lateral aspect. C, Muscles of the
tongue and pharynx, deep dissection, lateral
aspect. D, Muscles of the pharynx, dorsal as-
pect. E, Muscles of the pharynx, deep dissection,
dorsal aspect. F, Muscles of the pharynx and
palate, deep dissection, ventrolateral aspect, 245
Fig. 5-27 Cartilages of disarticulated larynx
ith hyoid apparatus intact, left lateral view, 248
Fig. 5-28 A, Laryngeal muscles, left lateral view.
B, Median section of the larynx, 248
Fig. 5-29 Laryngeal muscles, left lateral view, 249
Fig. 5-30 Laryngeal muscles, dorsal view, 249
Fig. 5-31 Right external ear, rostral surface, 251
Fig. 5-32 Muscles of mastication. A, Pterygoideus
medialis and lateralis. B, Masseter and pterygoi-
deus medialis. C, Areas of origin of temporalis,
pterygoideus medialis, and pterygoideus latera-
lis. D, Masseter cut to show the deep portion, 252
Fig. 5-33 Muscles of pharynx and tongue, left
lateral view, left mandible removed, 253
Fig. 5-34 Muscles of mandible and basihyoid
bone, dorsal aspect, 253
Fig. 5-35 A, Extrinsic muscles of left eyeball,
dorsolateral view. B, Retractor bulbi muscle
exposed, lateral view, 255
Fig. 5-36 Schema of extrinsic ocular muscles and
their action on the left eyeball, 255
Fig. 5-37 A, Third eyelid of left eye. B, Section of
the third eyelid. Inset: Cartilage and supericial
gland of third eyelid showing plane of section,
256
xiv ILLUSTRATIONS
Fig. 5-38 Sagittal section of eyeball, 257
Fig. 5-39 Section of eyeball at iridocorneal angle,
257
Fig. 5-40 A, Inner surface of a ciliary body seg-
ment. B, Zonular ibers passing along ciliary
processes before attaching to lens, anterior
view, 258
Fig. 5-41 Vessels and nerves of external ear, with
a portion of digastricus removed, 260
Fig. 5-42 Supericial veins of head, right lateral
aspect, 261
Fig. 5-43 Supericial branches of the trigeminal
(orange-red) and facial (yellow) nerves, 262
Fig. 5-44 Retropharyngeal lymph node and thy-
roid gland, lateral aspect of the neck, 263
Fig. 5-45 Branches of common carotid artery,
supericial lateral view, part of digastricus
removed, 263
Fig. 5-46 Arteries of head in relation to lateral
aspect of skull, 265
Fig. 5-47 Branches of right common carotid
artery, deep view, 265
Fig. 5-48 Muscles, nerves, and salivary glands me-
dial to right mandible, lateral view, dorsally, 266
Fig. 5-49 Cranial nerves leaving skull, ventrolat-
eral view, 267
Fig. 5-50 Petrous part of temporal bone sculp-
tured to show path of facial nerve, dorsal
aspect, 267
Fig. 5-51 Nerves and muscles of eyeball, lateral
view, 268
Fig. 5-52 Dorsal aspect of base of the skull show-
ing arteries and nerves, 269
Fig. 5-53 Arteries and nerves of brain and irst
two cervical spinal cord segments, ventral
view, 270
Fig. 5-54 Nerves emerging from tympano-occipital
issure, right lateral view. The digastricus mus-
cle and the medial retropharyngeal lymph node
were removed, 271
Fig. 5-55 Maxillary nerve branch of trigeminal
nerve, lateral aspect, 271
Fig. 5-56 Schema of optic, oculomotor, trochlear,
trigeminal, and abducent nerves, dorsal aspect,
272
Fig. 5-57 Innervation of the esophagus, 274
Fig. 6-1 Meninges and ventricles of brain, median
plane, 278
Fig. 6-2 Distribution of middle cerebral artery,
lateral aspect, 279
Fig. 6-3 Arteries of cerebellum and medial surface
of cerebrum, 279
Fig. 6-4 Cervical vertebral veins, right lateral
aspect, 281
Fig. 6-5 Cranial venous sinuses, right lateral
aspect, 281
Fig. 6-6 Cranial venous sinuses, dorsal aspect,
calvaria removed, 282
Fig. 6-7 Sulci of brain, right lateral view, 283
Fig. 6-8 Gyri of brain, right lateral view, 283
Fig. 6-9 Ventral view of brain, cranial nerves, and
brain stem, 285
Fig. 6-10 Dorsal view of brain stem, 286
Fig. 6-11 A, Median section of diencephalon. B,
Hippocampal complex dissected out, 287
Fig. 6-12 Diencephalon and cerebral hemispheres,
288
Fig. 6-13 Ventricles of brain, 289
Fig. 6-14 Mesencephalon and cerebral hemi-
spheres, 290
Fig. 6-15 Cerebellum and myelencephalon, 292
Fig. 6-16 Caudal myelencephalon, 292
Figs. 6-17 through 6-32 Transverse sections from The
Brain of the Dog in Section by Marcus Singer, 1962,
with selected structures labeled. The white matter
is stained with iron hematozylin, which gives it a
black color. The plates are in sequence from cau-
dal to rostral but at varying intervals, 293
Fig. 6-33 Rostral telencephalon, 303
Fig. 6-34 A, Medial surface of right cerebral hemi-
sphere and lateral surface of brain stem.
B, Lateral view of a brain with the left half
removed except for most of the left rhinen-
cephalon, 304
Fig. 6-35 Medial view of a right cerebral hemi-
sphere with medial structures removed to
show lateral ventricle, 305
Fig. 6-36 Lateral view of the brain, internal cap-
sule exposed, 306
Fig. 6-37 Dorsal roots of spinal nerves and spinal
cord segments. Dorsal view, vertebral arches
removed, 309
Fig. 6-38 Diagram of spinal nerve, 310
Fig. 6-39 A, Enlarged schematic view of terminal
spinal cord with dura relected. B, Enlarged
transverse section of seventh lumbar segment.
C, Arterial vasculature of the canine spinal
cord, 311
Fig. 6-40 Transverse sections of spinal cord: sec-
ond cervical segment (C2), eighth cervical seg-
ment (C8), twelfth thoracic segment (T12), and
sixth lumbar segment (L6), 312
 Tables

Table 2-1 Bones of the Appendicular Skeleton, 7 Table 4-2 Blood Supply and Innervation of the
Table 3-1 Vessels and Nerves of the Thoracic Digits of the Pelvic Limb, 216
Limb, 139 Table 6-1 Functional and Structural Correlates
Table 3-2 Blood Supply and Innervation of the of the Nervous System, 308
Digits of the Thoracic Limb, 147
Table 4-1 Vessels and Nerves of the Pelvic Limb,
197
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 1
CH A P T ER

Anatomical
Terminology

CHAPTER OUTLINE
MEDICAL ETYMOLOGY AND ANATOMICAL DIRECTIONAL TERMS, 2
NOMENCLATURE, 2 DISSECTION, 4

1
2 CHAPTER 1 Anatomical Terminology
Anatomy is the study of structure. Physiology is
the study of function. Structure and function
are inseparable as the foundation of the science
and art of medicine. One must know the parts
before one can appreciate how they work. Gross
anatomy, the study of structures that can be dis-
sected and observed with the unaided eye or with
a hand lens, forms the subject matter of this guide.
The anatomy of one part in relation to other
parts of the body is topographical anatomy. The
practical application of such knowledge in the
diagnosis and treatment of pathological condi-
tions is applied anatomy. The study of structures
too small to be seen without a light microscope is
microscopic anatomy. Examination of structure
in even greater detail is possible with an electron
microscope and constitutes ultrastructural anat-
omy. When an animal becomes diseased or its
organs function improperly, its deviation from
the normal is studied as pathological anatomy.
The study of the development of the individual
from the fertilized oocyte to birth is embryology,
and from the zygote to the adult it is known as
developmental anatomy. The study of abnormal
development is teratology.
MEDICAL ETYMOLOGY AND
ANATOMICAL NOMENCLATURE
The student of anatomy is confronted with an
array of unfamiliar terms and names of ana-
tomical structures. A better understanding of
the language of anatomy helps make its study
more intelligible and interesting. For the publi-
cation of scientiic papers and communication
with colleagues, the mastery of anatomical ter-
minology is a necessity. To ensure knowledge of
basic anatomical terms, a medical dictionary
should be kept readily accessible and consulted
frequently. It is very important to learn the
spelling, pronunciation, and meaning of all new
terms encountered. Vertebrate structures are
numerous, and in many instances common
names are not available or are so vague as to be
meaningless. One soon realizes why it is desir-
able to have an international glossary of terms
that can be understood by scientists in all coun-
tries. Acquisition of a medical vocabulary can
be aided by the mastery of Greek and Latin
roots and afixes.
Our present medical vocabulary has a history
dating back more than 2000 years and relects the
inluences of the world’s languages. The early
writings in anatomy and medicine were in Greek
and later almost entirely in Latin. As a conse-
quence, most anatomical terms stem from these
classical languages. Latin terms are commonly
translated into the vernacular of the person using
them. Thus the Latin hepar becomes the English
liver, the French foie, the Spanish higado, and the
German Leber.
Although anatomical terminology has been
rather uniform, differences in terms have arisen
between the different ields and different coun-
tries. In 1895 a group of anatomists proposed a
standard list of terms derived from those in use
throughout the world. This list, known as the Basle
Nomina Anatomica (BNA), formed the basis for the
present sixth edition of Nomina Anatomica (NA)
1989, which was prepared by the International
Anatomical Nomenclature Committee (IANC)
and adopted by the International Congress of
Anatomists in Paris in 1955. Of the 5640 standard
terms, more than 80% are continued from the
BNA. In response to dissatisfaction with the work
of the last committee (IANC), the International
Federation of Associations of Anatomists created a
new committee in 1989, the Federative Committee
on Anatomical Terminology (FCAT), to write
Terminologia Anatomica (TA), which was pub-
lished in 1998. This new list of terms gives each
term in Latin accompanied by the current usage in
English-speaking countries. There is an index to
Latin and English terms as well as to eponyms
(Thieme Publishers, Stuttgart and New York). Both
the NA and TA lists are for human anatomy.
The International Committee on Veterinary
Anatomical Nomenclature (ICVAN), appointed by
the World Association of Veterinary Anatomists in
1957, published Nomina Anatomica Veterinaria
(NAV) for domestic mammals in 1968. These terms,
as revised in the ifth edition in 2005 (published
on the World Wide Web), serve as the basis for the
nomenclature used in this guide.
DIRECTIONAL TERMS
An understanding of the following planes, posi-
tions, and directions relative to the animal body
or its parts is necessary to follow the procedures
for dissection (Fig. 1-1).
PLANE: A surface, real or imaginary, along
which any two points can be connected by a
straight line.
 CHAPTER 1 Anatomical Terminology 3

Median plane
l Do
a rsa
ud l
Ca
r al
st

l
Cranial Caudal

rsa
Ro

Do

ral
t
Ven
a l
Ventr

Dorsal plane

tral

Caudal
Proximal Ven
Distal

C
Caudal

ra
ni
Cranial

al
l
rsa
Do

al
rs
r
nta

Do
r
Palma Pla

Transverse plane
Fig. 1-1 Directional terms.

Median Plane: Divides the head, body, or limb CRANIAL: Toward or relatively near the head;
longitudinally into equal right and left halves. on the limbs it applies proximal to the carpus and
Sagittal Plane: Passes through the head, body, or tarsus. In reference to the head, it is replaced by
limb parallel to the median plane. Transverse the term rostral.
Plane: Cuts across the head, body, or limb at a ROSTRAL: Toward or relatively near the nose;
right angle to its long axis or across the long axis applies to the head only.
of an organ or a part. Dorsal Plane: Runs at right CAUDAL: Toward or relatively near the tail;
angles to the median and transverse planes and on the limbs it applies proximal to the carpus and
thus divides the body or head into dorsal and tarsus. Also used in reference to the head.
ventral portions. The adjectives for directional terms may be
DORSAL: Toward or relatively near the upper modiied to serve as adverbs by replacing
surface (as opposed to the supporting surface) of the ending al with the ending ally, as in
the head, body, and tail. This surface is opposite dorsally.
to the supporting surface in the standing animal. Certain terms whose meanings are more re-
On the limbs it applies to the upper or front sur- stricted are used in the description of organs and
face of the carpus, tarsus, metapodium, and digits appendages.
(opposite to the side with the pads). INTERNAL or INNER: Close to, or in the direc-
VENTRAL: Toward or relatively near the sup- tion of, the center of an organ, body cavity, or
porting surface and the corresponding surface of structure.
the head, neck, thorax, and tail. This term is never EXTERNAL or OUTER: Away from the center
used for the limbs. of an organ or structure.
MEDIAL: Toward or relatively near the median SUPERFICIAL: Relatively near the surface of
plane. the body or the surface of a solid organ.
LATERAL: Away from or relatively farther DEEP: Relatively near the center of the body or
from the median plane. the center of a solid organ.
4 CHAPTER 1 Anatomical Terminology
PROXIMAL: Relatively near the main mass or
origin; in the limbs and tail, the attached end of
that structure.
DISTAL: Away from the main mass or origin;
in the limbs and tail, the free end of that structure.
RADIAL: On that side of the forearm (antebra-
chium) in which the radius is located.
ULNAR: On that side of the forearm in which
the ulna is located.
TIBIAL and FIBULAR: On the corresponding
sides of the leg (crus), the tibial side being medial
and the ibular side being lateral.
In the dog and similar species, the paw is that
part of the thoracic or pelvic limb distal to the
radius and ulna or to the tibia and ibula. The hu-
man hand (manus) and foot (pes) are homolo-
gous with the forepaw and hindpaw, respectively.
PALMAR: The aspect of the forepaw on which
the pads are located—the surface that contacts
the ground in the standing animal—and the
corresponding surface of the metacarpus and
carpus.
PLANTAR: The aspect of the hindpaw on
which the pads are located—the surface that con-
tacts the ground in the standing animal—and the
corresponding surface of the metatarsus and tar-
sus. The opposite surface of both forepaw and
hindpaw is known as the dorsal surface.
AXIS: The central line of the body or any of its
parts.
AXIAL, ABAXIAL: Of, pertaining to, or rela-
tive to the axis. In reference to the digits, the func-
tional axis of the limb passes between the third
and fourth digits. The axial surface of the digit
faces the axis, and the abaxial surface faces away
from the axis.
The following terms apply to the various basic
movements of the parts of the body.
FLEXION: The movement of one bone in rela-
tion to another in such a manner that the angle
formed at their joint is reduced. The limb is re-
tracted or folded; the digit is bent; the back is
arched dorsally.
EXTENSION: The movement of one bone upon
another such that the angle formed at their joint
increases. The limb reaches out or is extended; the
digit is straightened; the back is straightened. Ex-
tension beyond 180 degrees is overextension.
ABDUCTION: The movement of a part away
from the median plane.
ADDUCTION: The movement of a part toward
the median plane.
CIRCUMDUCTION: The movement of a part
when outlining the surface of a cone (e.g., the
thoracic limb extended drawing a circle).
ROTATION: The movement of a part around
its long axis (e.g., the action of the radius when
using a screwdriver). The direction of rotation of
a limb or segment of a limb on its long axis is
designated by the direction of movement of its
cranial or dorsal surface (e.g., in medial rotation
of the arm, the crest of the greater tubercle is
turned medially).
SUPINATION: Lateral rotation of the append-
age so that the palmar or plantar surface of the
paw faces medially.
PRONATION: Medial rotation of the append-
age from the supine position so that the palmar or
plantar surface will face the substrate.
Common regional synonyms include bra-
chium for the arm (between shoulder and elbow),
antebrachium for the forearm (between elbow
and carpus), thigh for the pelvic limb (between
the hip and stile), and crus for the leg (between
stile and tarsus). The pelvic limb is not the leg.
Only the crus is the leg.
On radiographs the view is described in rela-
tion to the direction of penetration by the x-ray:
from point of entrance to point of exit of the body
part before striking the ilm. Oblique views are
described with combined terms. A view of the
carpus with the x-ray tube perpendicular to the
dorsal surface and the ilm on the palmar surface
would be a dorsopalmar view. If the x-ray tube is
turned so that it points toward the dorsomedial
surface of the carpus and the ilm is on the palma-
rolateral surface, the view would be dorsomedial-
palmarolateral oblique. If the animal is lying on
its right side, adjacent to the radiographic ilm,
the radiograph is a left-to-right lateral view.
DISSECTION
The dog provided for dissection has been hu-
manely prepared by injection of pentobarbital for
anesthesia through the cephalic vein and by ex-
sanguination through a cannula inserted in the
common carotid artery. This procedure allows the
pumping action of the heart to empty the blood
vessels before the injection of embalming luid
consisting of 5% formalin, 2% phenol, and 30%
ethanol in aqueous solution. It is injected under
5 lb of pressure over a period of approximately
30 minutes. After embalming, the arteries are

injected with red latex, also through the common
carotid artery, from a 50-mL hand syringe. A well-
kept specimen facilitates dissection and study
throughout the course. Gauze moistened with
2% phenoxyethanol, 1% phenol, or other antifun-
gal agents helps to prevent spoilage. Plastic bags
can be used to wrap the paws and head and plastic
sheeting to cover the entire specimen to prevent
desiccation between dissection periods. Refrigera-
tion is helpful for storage but is not essential.
There are certain principles and procedures
that are generally accepted as aids in the learn-
ing of anatomy. The purpose of the dissection is
CHAPTER 1 Anatomical Terminology 5
to gain a clear understanding of the normal
structures of the body and their relationships,
and an appreciation for individual variation.
Radiography and the more recent development
of imaging procedures such as computed to-
mography (CT), magnetic resonance imaging
(MRI), and ultrasonography (US) require a clear
understanding of these relationships and the
ability to interpret three-dimensional anatomy
from two-dimensional views. (For a presenta-
tion of canine gross anatomy in planar section
correlated with US and CT, see Feeney et al. in
the Bibliography.)
 2
C H A P T ER

The Skeletal and

Muscular Systems
CHAPTER OUTLINE
BONES OF THE THORACIC LIMB, 7 Tibia, 48
Scapula, 7 Fibula, 49
Live Dog, 9 Tarsal Bones, 49
Humerus, 9 Metatarsal Bones, 50
Radius, 12 Phalanges, 50
Ulna, 13 Live Dog, 50
Carpal Bones, 13
MUSCLES OF THE PELVIC LIMB, 51
Metacarpal Bones, 14
Caudal Muscles of the Thigh, 53
Phalanges, 15
Medial Muscles of the Thigh, 54
Live Dog, 16
Lateral Muscles of the Pelvis, 57
MUSCLES OF THE THORACIC LIMB, 16 Caudal Hip Muscles, 60
Supericial Structures of the Thorax, 16 Cranial Muscles of the Thigh, 62
Live Dog, 18 Muscles of the Leg (Crus), 65
Extrinsic Muscles of the Thoracic Limb and Live Dog, 72
Related Structures, 18
JOINTS OF THE PELVIC LIMB, 72
Live Dog, 26
Live Dog, 77
Intrinsic Muscles of the Thoracic Limb, 26
BONES OF THE VERTEBRAL COLUMN AND
Lateral Muscles of the Scapula and
THORAX, 77
Shoulder, 26
Cervical Vertebrae, 78
Medial Muscles of the Scapula and
Thoracic Vertebrae, 79
Shoulder, 27
Lumbar Vertebrae, 80
Live Dog, 29
Sacrum, 80
Caudal Muscles of the Arm (Brachium), 29
Caudal Vertebrae, 81
Live Dog, 31
Ribs, 81
Cranial Muscles of the Arm, 31
Sternum, 81
Live Dog, 31
Live Dog, 81
Cranial and Lateral Muscles of the Forearm
(Antebrachium), 32 MUSCLES OF THE TRUNK AND NECK, 84
Caudal and Medial Muscles of the Forearm, 36 Hypaxial Muscles, 84
Muscles of the Forepaw (Manus), 39 Epaxial Muscles, 90
Live Dog, 40 Live Dog, 93
JOINTS OF THE THORACIC LIMB, 40 JOINTS OF THE AXIAL SKELETON, 94
Vertebral Joints, 94
BONES OF THE PELVIC LIMB, 42
Ribs, 94
Os Coxae, 42
Femur, 46

6
 CHAPTER 2 The Skeletal and Muscular Systems 7

Before dissection of muscles is explained, the Scapula

bones of that region (Fig. 2-1) are described. A The scapula (Figs. 2-3 and 2-4), a lat, approxi-
thorough understanding of the relationships of mately triangular bone, possesses two surfaces,
muscles and bones facilitates learning the muscu- three borders, and three angles. The ventral angle
lar attachments and functions. is the distal or articular end that forms the
The appendicular skeleton includes the bones glenoid cavity, and the constricted part that
of the thoracic girdle and forelimbs and the pelvic unites with the expanded blade is referred to as
girdle and hindlimbs (Table 2-1, Fig. 2-2). the neck.
The axial skeleton consists of the bones of the
skull; hyoid apparatus; cartilages of the larynx;
and bones of the vertebral column, ribs, and
sternum. Table 2-1 Bones of the Appendicular Skeleton
Thoracic Limb (Forelimb) Pelvic Limb (Hindlimb)
BONES OF THE THORACIC LIMB Thoracic Girdle Pelvic Girdle
Scapula Ilium
The thoracic girdle consists of paired scapulae Clavicle Ischium
and clavicles (see Fig. 2-10). The scapula is large, Pubis
whereas the clavicle is reduced. The dog’s clavi- Arm or Brachium Thigh
cle (see Fig. 2-10) is a small oval plate located Humerus Femur
cranial to the shoulder within the clavicular Patella
Forearm or Antebrachium Leg or Crus
tendon in the brachiocephalicus muscle (see
Radius Tibia
Fig. 2-12). The clavicle is one of the irst bones to Ulna Fibula
show a center of ossiication in the fetal dog, but Forepaw or Manus Hindpaw or Pes
in the adult it is partly or completely cartilagi- Carpal bones Tarsal bones
nous. It is frequently visible in dorsoventral radio- Metacarpal bones Metatarsal bones
graphs of the trunk, medial to the shoulder joint. Phalanges Phalanges

Fig. 2-1 Skeleton of male dog. A, Lateral view of skeleton.

Continued
8 CHAPTER 2 The Skeletal and Muscular Systems
Fig. 2-1—cont’d B, Ventral view of skeleton.
(Part B from Evans HE, de Lahunta A: Miller’s
anatomy of the dog, ed 4, St Louis, 2013,
Saunders.)
The lateral surface (see Fig. 2-3, A) of the
scapula is divided into two nearly equal fossae
by a shelf of bone, the spine of the scapula. The
spine is the most prominent feature of the bone.
It begins at the dorsal border as a thick, low
ridge and becomes thinner and wider toward
the neck. In all breeds the free border is slightly
thickened, and in some it is everted caudally.
The distal end is a truncated process, the acro-
mion, where part of the deltoideus muscle arises.
On a continuation of the spine proximally, the
omotransversarius attaches. The remaining part
of the spine provides a place for insertion of the
trapezius and for origin of that part of the deltoi-
deus that does not arise from the acromion.
The supraspinous fossa is the entire lateral
surface cranial to the spine of the scapula. The
supraspinatus arises from all but the distal part of
this fossa.
The infraspinous fossa, caudal to the spine, is
triangular, with the apex at the neck. The infraspi-
natus arises from the infraspinous fossa.
The medial or costal surface has two areas
(see Fig. 2-3, B). A small proximal and cranial
rectangular area, the serrated face, serves as
insertion for the serratus ventralis muscle. The
large remaining part of the costal surface is the
subscapular fossa, which is nearly lat and usu-
ally presents three straight muscular lines that
converge distally. The subscapularis arises from
the whole subscapular fossa.
The cranial border of the scapula is thin. Near
the ventral angle the border is concave as it enters
into the formation of the neck. The notch thus
formed is the scapular notch. The dorsal end of
the cranial border thickens and, without deinite
demarcation at the cranial angle, is continuous
with the dorsal border.
The dorsal border extends from the cranial to
the caudal angles. In life it is capped by a nar-
row band of cartilage, but in the dried specimen
the cartilage is destroyed by ordinary prepara-
tion methods. The rhomboideus attaches to this
border.
Just proximal to the ventral angle, the thick
caudal border bears the infraglenoid tubercle,
from which arise the teres minor and the long
head of the triceps. The middle third of the caudal
border of the scapula is broad and smooth; part of
the subscapularis and the long head of the triceps
arise from it. Somewhat less than a third of the
dorsal segment of the caudal border is thick and
gives rise to the teres major.
The ventral angle forms the expanded distal
end of the scapula. The adjacent constricted part,
the neck, is the segment of the scapula distal to
the spine and proximal to the expanded part of
the bone that forms the glenoid cavity. Clinically,
the ventral angle is by far the most important part
of the scapula, because it enters into the forma-
tion of the shoulder joint. The glenoid cavity
articulates with the head of the humerus. Observe
the shallowness of the cavity.
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 DANCE ON STILTS AT THE GIRLS’ UNYAGO, NIUCHI

Newala, too, suffers from the distance of its water-supply—at least

the Newala of to-day does; there was once another Newala in a lovely
valley at the foot of the plateau. I visited it and found scarcely a trace
of houses, only a Christian cemetery, with the graves of several
missionaries and their converts, remaining as a monument of its
former glories. But the surroundings are wonderfully beautiful. A
thick grove of splendid mango-trees closes in the weather-worn
crosses and headstones; behind them, combining the useful and the
agreeable, is a whole plantation of lemon-trees covered with ripe
fruit; not the small African kind, but a much larger and also juicier
imported variety, which drops into the hands of the passing traveller,
without calling for any exertion on his part. Old Newala is now under
the jurisdiction of the native pastor, Daudi, at Chingulungulu, who,
as I am on very friendly terms with him, allows me, as a matter of
course, the use of this lemon-grove during my stay at Newala.
 FEET MUTILATED BY THE RAVAGES OF THE “JIGGER”
(Sarcopsylla penetrans)

The water-supply of New Newala is in the bottom of the valley,

some 1,600 feet lower down. The way is not only long and fatiguing,
but the water, when we get it, is thoroughly bad. We are suffering not
only from this, but from the fact that the arrangements at Newala are
nothing short of luxurious. We have a separate kitchen—a hut built
against the boma palisade on the right of the baraza, the interior of
which is not visible from our usual position. Our two cooks were not
long in finding this out, and they consequently do—or rather neglect
to do—what they please. In any case they do not seem to be very
particular about the boiling of our drinking-water—at least I can
attribute to no other cause certain attacks of a dysenteric nature,
from which both Knudsen and I have suffered for some time. If a
man like Omari has to be left unwatched for a moment, he is capable
of anything. Besides this complaint, we are inconvenienced by the
state of our nails, which have become as hard as glass, and crack on
the slightest provocation, and I have the additional infliction of
pimples all over me. As if all this were not enough, we have also, for
the last week been waging war against the jigger, who has found his
Eldorado in the hot sand of the Makonde plateau. Our men are seen
all day long—whenever their chronic colds and the dysentery likewise
raging among them permit—occupied in removing this scourge of
Africa from their feet and trying to prevent the disastrous
consequences of its presence. It is quite common to see natives of
this place with one or two toes missing; many have lost all their toes,
or even the whole front part of the foot, so that a well-formed leg
ends in a shapeless stump. These ravages are caused by the female of
Sarcopsylla penetrans, which bores its way under the skin and there
develops an egg-sac the size of a pea. In all books on the subject, it is
stated that one’s attention is called to the presence of this parasite by
an intolerable itching. This agrees very well with my experience, so
far as the softer parts of the sole, the spaces between and under the
toes, and the side of the foot are concerned, but if the creature
penetrates through the harder parts of the heel or ball of the foot, it
may escape even the most careful search till it has reached maturity.
Then there is no time to be lost, if the horrible ulceration, of which
we see cases by the dozen every day, is to be prevented. It is much
easier, by the way, to discover the insect on the white skin of a
European than on that of a native, on which the dark speck scarcely
shows. The four or five jiggers which, in spite of the fact that I
constantly wore high laced boots, chose my feet to settle in, were
taken out for me by the all-accomplished Knudsen, after which I
thought it advisable to wash out the cavities with corrosive
sublimate. The natives have a different sort of disinfectant—they fill
the hole with scraped roots. In a tiny Makua village on the slope of
the plateau south of Newala, we saw an old woman who had filled all
the spaces under her toe-nails with powdered roots by way of
prophylactic treatment. What will be the result, if any, who can say?
The rest of the many trifling ills which trouble our existence are
really more comic than serious. In the absence of anything else to
smoke, Knudsen and I at last opened a box of cigars procured from
the Indian store-keeper at Lindi, and tried them, with the most
distressing results. Whether they contain opium or some other
narcotic, neither of us can say, but after the tenth puff we were both
“off,” three-quarters stupefied and unspeakably wretched. Slowly we
recovered—and what happened next? Half-an-hour later we were
once more smoking these poisonous concoctions—so insatiable is the
craving for tobacco in the tropics.
Even my present attacks of fever scarcely deserve to be taken
seriously. I have had no less than three here at Newala, all of which
have run their course in an incredibly short time. In the early
afternoon, I am busy with my old natives, asking questions and
making notes. The strong midday coffee has stimulated my spirits to
an extraordinary degree, the brain is active and vigorous, and work
progresses rapidly, while a pleasant warmth pervades the whole
body. Suddenly this gives place to a violent chill, forcing me to put on
my overcoat, though it is only half-past three and the afternoon sun
is at its hottest. Now the brain no longer works with such acuteness
and logical precision; more especially does it fail me in trying to
establish the syntax of the difficult Makua language on which I have
ventured, as if I had not enough to do without it. Under the
circumstances it seems advisable to take my temperature, and I do
so, to save trouble, without leaving my seat, and while going on with
my work. On examination, I find it to be 101·48°. My tutors are
abruptly dismissed and my bed set up in the baraza; a few minutes
later I am in it and treating myself internally with hot water and
lemon-juice.
Three hours later, the thermometer marks nearly 104°, and I make
them carry me back into the tent, bed and all, as I am now perspiring
heavily, and exposure to the cold wind just beginning to blow might
mean a fatal chill. I lie still for a little while, and then find, to my
great relief, that the temperature is not rising, but rather falling. This
is about 7.30 p.m. At 8 p.m. I find, to my unbounded astonishment,
that it has fallen below 98·6°, and I feel perfectly well. I read for an
hour or two, and could very well enjoy a smoke, if I had the
wherewithal—Indian cigars being out of the question.
Having no medical training, I am at a loss to account for this state
of things. It is impossible that these transitory attacks of high fever
should be malarial; it seems more probable that they are due to a
kind of sunstroke. On consulting my note-book, I become more and
more inclined to think this is the case, for these attacks regularly
follow extreme fatigue and long exposure to strong sunshine. They at
least have the advantage of being only short interruptions to my
work, as on the following morning I am always quite fresh and fit.
My treasure of a cook is suffering from an enormous hydrocele which
makes it difficult for him to get up, and Moritz is obliged to keep in
the dark on account of his inflamed eyes. Knudsen’s cook, a raw boy
from somewhere in the bush, knows still less of cooking than Omari;
consequently Nils Knudsen himself has been promoted to the vacant
post. Finding that we had come to the end of our supplies, he began
by sending to Chingulungulu for the four sucking-pigs which we had
bought from Matola and temporarily left in his charge; and when
they came up, neatly packed in a large crate, he callously slaughtered
the biggest of them. The first joint we were thoughtless enough to
entrust for roasting to Knudsen’s mshenzi cook, and it was
consequently uneatable; but we made the rest of the animal into a
jelly which we ate with great relish after weeks of underfeeding,
consuming incredible helpings of it at both midday and evening
meals. The only drawback is a certain want of variety in the tinned
vegetables. Dr. Jäger, to whom the Geographical Commission
entrusted the provisioning of the expeditions—mine as well as his
own—because he had more time on his hands than the rest of us,
seems to have laid in a huge stock of Teltow turnips,[46] an article of
food which is all very well for occasional use, but which quickly palls
when set before one every day; and we seem to have no other tins
left. There is no help for it—we must put up with the turnips; but I
am certain that, once I am home again, I shall not touch them for ten
years to come.
Amid all these minor evils, which, after all, go to make up the
genuine flavour of Africa, there is at least one cheering touch:
Knudsen has, with the dexterity of a skilled mechanic, repaired my 9
× 12 cm. camera, at least so far that I can use it with a little care.
How, in the absence of finger-nails, he was able to accomplish such a
ticklish piece of work, having no tool but a clumsy screw-driver for
taking to pieces and putting together again the complicated
mechanism of the instantaneous shutter, is still a mystery to me; but
he did it successfully. The loss of his finger-nails shows him in a light
contrasting curiously enough with the intelligence evinced by the
above operation; though, after all, it is scarcely surprising after his
ten years’ residence in the bush. One day, at Lindi, he had occasion
to wash a dog, which must have been in need of very thorough
cleansing, for the bottle handed to our friend for the purpose had an
extremely strong smell. Having performed his task in the most
conscientious manner, he perceived with some surprise that the dog
did not appear much the better for it, and was further surprised by
finding his own nails ulcerating away in the course of the next few
days. “How was I to know that carbolic acid has to be diluted?” he
mutters indignantly, from time to time, with a troubled gaze at his
mutilated finger-tips.
 Since we came to Newala we have been making excursions in all
directions through the surrounding country, in accordance with old
habit, and also because the akida Sefu did not get together the tribal
elders from whom I wanted information so speedily as he had
promised. There is, however, no harm done, as, even if seen only
from the outside, the country and people are interesting enough.
The Makonde plateau is like a large rectangular table rounded off
at the corners. Measured from the Indian Ocean to Newala, it is
about seventy-five miles long, and between the Rovuma and the
Lukuledi it averages fifty miles in breadth, so that its superficial area
is about two-thirds of that of the kingdom of Saxony. The surface,
however, is not level, but uniformly inclined from its south-western
edge to the ocean. From the upper edge, on which Newala lies, the
eye ranges for many miles east and north-east, without encountering
any obstacle, over the Makonde bush. It is a green sea, from which
here and there thick clouds of smoke rise, to show that it, too, is
inhabited by men who carry on their tillage like so many other
primitive peoples, by cutting down and burning the bush, and
manuring with the ashes. Even in the radiant light of a tropical day
such a fire is a grand sight.
Much less effective is the impression produced just now by the
great western plain as seen from the edge of the plateau. As often as
time permits, I stroll along this edge, sometimes in one direction,
sometimes in another, in the hope of finding the air clear enough to
let me enjoy the view; but I have always been disappointed.
Wherever one looks, clouds of smoke rise from the burning bush,
and the air is full of smoke and vapour. It is a pity, for under more
favourable circumstances the panorama of the whole country up to
the distant Majeje hills must be truly magnificent. It is of little use
taking photographs now, and an outline sketch gives a very poor idea
of the scenery. In one of these excursions I went out of my way to
make a personal attempt on the Makonde bush. The present edge of
the plateau is the result of a far-reaching process of destruction
through erosion and denudation. The Makonde strata are
everywhere cut into by ravines, which, though short, are hundreds of
yards in depth. In consequence of the loose stratification of these
beds, not only are the walls of these ravines nearly vertical, but their
upper end is closed by an equally steep escarpment, so that the
western edge of the Makonde plateau is hemmed in by a series of
deep, basin-like valleys. In order to get from one side of such a ravine
to the other, I cut my way through the bush with a dozen of my men.
It was a very open part, with more grass than scrub, but even so the
short stretch of less than two hundred yards was very hard work; at
the end of it the men’s calicoes were in rags and they themselves
bleeding from hundreds of scratches, while even our strong khaki
suits had not escaped scatheless.

NATIVE PATH THROUGH THE MAKONDE BUSH, NEAR

MAHUTA

I see increasing reason to believe that the view formed some time
back as to the origin of the Makonde bush is the correct one. I have
no doubt that it is not a natural product, but the result of human
occupation. Those parts of the high country where man—as a very
slight amount of practice enables the eye to perceive at once—has not
yet penetrated with axe and hoe, are still occupied by a splendid
timber forest quite able to sustain a comparison with our mixed
forests in Germany. But wherever man has once built his hut or tilled
his field, this horrible bush springs up. Every phase of this process
may be seen in the course of a couple of hours’ walk along the main
road. From the bush to right or left, one hears the sound of the axe—
not from one spot only, but from several directions at once. A few
steps further on, we can see what is taking place. The brush has been
cut down and piled up in heaps to the height of a yard or more,
between which the trunks of the large trees stand up like the last
pillars of a magnificent ruined building. These, too, present a
melancholy spectacle: the destructive Makonde have ringed them—
cut a broad strip of bark all round to ensure their dying off—and also
piled up pyramids of brush round them. Father and son, mother and
son-in-law, are chopping away perseveringly in the background—too
busy, almost, to look round at the white stranger, who usually excites
so much interest. If you pass by the same place a week later, the piles
of brushwood have disappeared and a thick layer of ashes has taken
the place of the green forest. The large trees stretch their
smouldering trunks and branches in dumb accusation to heaven—if
they have not already fallen and been more or less reduced to ashes,
perhaps only showing as a white stripe on the dark ground.
This work of destruction is carried out by the Makonde alike on the
virgin forest and on the bush which has sprung up on sites already
cultivated and deserted. In the second case they are saved the trouble
of burning the large trees, these being entirely absent in the
secondary bush.
After burning this piece of forest ground and loosening it with the
hoe, the native sows his corn and plants his vegetables. All over the
country, he goes in for bed-culture, which requires, and, in fact,
receives, the most careful attention. Weeds are nowhere tolerated in
the south of German East Africa. The crops may fail on the plains,
where droughts are frequent, but never on the plateau with its
abundant rains and heavy dews. Its fortunate inhabitants even have
the satisfaction of seeing the proud Wayao and Wamakua working
for them as labourers, driven by hunger to serve where they were
accustomed to rule.
But the light, sandy soil is soon exhausted, and would yield no
harvest the second year if cultivated twice running. This fact has
been familiar to the native for ages; consequently he provides in
time, and, while his crop is growing, prepares the next plot with axe
and firebrand. Next year he plants this with his various crops and
lets the first piece lie fallow. For a short time it remains waste and
desolate; then nature steps in to repair the destruction wrought by
man; a thousand new growths spring out of the exhausted soil, and
even the old stumps put forth fresh shoots. Next year the new growth
is up to one’s knees, and in a few years more it is that terrible,
impenetrable bush, which maintains its position till the black
occupier of the land has made the round of all the available sites and
come back to his starting point.
The Makonde are, body and soul, so to speak, one with this bush.
According to my Yao informants, indeed, their name means nothing
else but “bush people.” Their own tradition says that they have been
settled up here for a very long time, but to my surprise they laid great
stress on an original immigration. Their old homes were in the
south-east, near Mikindani and the mouth of the Rovuma, whence
their peaceful forefathers were driven by the continual raids of the
Sakalavas from Madagascar and the warlike Shirazis[47] of the coast,
to take refuge on the almost inaccessible plateau. I have studied
African ethnology for twenty years, but the fact that changes of
population in this apparently quiet and peaceable corner of the earth
could have been occasioned by outside enterprises taking place on
the high seas, was completely new to me. It is, no doubt, however,
correct.
The charming tribal legend of the Makonde—besides informing us
of other interesting matters—explains why they have to live in the
thickest of the bush and a long way from the edge of the plateau,
instead of making their permanent homes beside the purling brooks
and springs of the low country.
“The place where the tribe originated is Mahuta, on the southern
side of the plateau towards the Rovuma, where of old time there was
nothing but thick bush. Out of this bush came a man who never
washed himself or shaved his head, and who ate and drank but little.
He went out and made a human figure from the wood of a tree
growing in the open country, which he took home to his abode in the
bush and there set it upright. In the night this image came to life and
was a woman. The man and woman went down together to the
Rovuma to wash themselves. Here the woman gave birth to a still-
born child. They left that place and passed over the high land into the
valley of the Mbemkuru, where the woman had another child, which
was also born dead. Then they returned to the high bush country of
Mahuta, where the third child was born, which lived and grew up. In
course of time, the couple had many more children, and called
themselves Wamatanda. These were the ancestral stock of the
Makonde, also called Wamakonde,[48] i.e., aborigines. Their
forefather, the man from the bush, gave his children the command to
bury their dead upright, in memory of the mother of their race who
was cut out of wood and awoke to life when standing upright. He also
warned them against settling in the valleys and near large streams,
for sickness and death dwelt there. They were to make it a rule to
have their huts at least an hour’s walk from the nearest watering-
place; then their children would thrive and escape illness.”
The explanation of the name Makonde given by my informants is
somewhat different from that contained in the above legend, which I
extract from a little book (small, but packed with information), by
Pater Adams, entitled Lindi und sein Hinterland. Otherwise, my
results agree exactly with the statements of the legend. Washing?
Hapana—there is no such thing. Why should they do so? As it is, the
supply of water scarcely suffices for cooking and drinking; other
people do not wash, so why should the Makonde distinguish himself
by such needless eccentricity? As for shaving the head, the short,
woolly crop scarcely needs it,[49] so the second ancestral precept is
likewise easy enough to follow. Beyond this, however, there is
nothing ridiculous in the ancestor’s advice. I have obtained from
various local artists a fairly large number of figures carved in wood,
ranging from fifteen to twenty-three inches in height, and
representing women belonging to the great group of the Mavia,
Makonde, and Matambwe tribes. The carving is remarkably well
done and renders the female type with great accuracy, especially the
keloid ornamentation, to be described later on. As to the object and
meaning of their works the sculptors either could or (more probably)
would tell me nothing, and I was forced to content myself with the
scanty information vouchsafed by one man, who said that the figures
were merely intended to represent the nembo—the artificial
deformations of pelele, ear-discs, and keloids. The legend recorded
by Pater Adams places these figures in a new light. They must surely
be more than mere dolls; and we may even venture to assume that
they are—though the majority of present-day Makonde are probably
unaware of the fact—representations of the tribal ancestress.
 The references in the legend to the descent from Mahuta to the
Rovuma, and to a journey across the highlands into the Mbekuru
valley, undoubtedly indicate the previous history of the tribe, the
travels of the ancestral pair typifying the migrations of their
descendants. The descent to the neighbouring Rovuma valley, with
its extraordinary fertility and great abundance of game, is intelligible
at a glance—but the crossing of the Lukuledi depression, the ascent
to the Rondo Plateau and the descent to the Mbemkuru, also lie
within the bounds of probability, for all these districts have exactly
the same character as the extreme south. Now, however, comes a
point of especial interest for our bacteriological age. The primitive
Makonde did not enjoy their lives in the marshy river-valleys.
Disease raged among them, and many died. It was only after they
had returned to their original home near Mahuta, that the health
conditions of these people improved. We are very apt to think of the
African as a stupid person whose ignorance of nature is only equalled
by his fear of it, and who looks on all mishaps as caused by evil
spirits and malignant natural powers. It is much more correct to
assume in this case that the people very early learnt to distinguish
districts infested with malaria from those where it is absent.
This knowledge is crystallized in the
ancestral warning against settling in the
valleys and near the great waters, the
dwelling-places of disease and death. At the
same time, for security against the hostile
Mavia south of the Rovuma, it was enacted
that every settlement must be not less than a
certain distance from the southern edge of the
plateau. Such in fact is their mode of life at the
present day. It is not such a bad one, and
certainly they are both safer and more
comfortable than the Makua, the recent
intruders from the south, who have made USUAL METHOD OF
good their footing on the western edge of the CLOSING HUT-DOOR
plateau, extending over a fairly wide belt of
country. Neither Makua nor Makonde show in their dwellings
anything of the size and comeliness of the Yao houses in the plain,
especially at Masasi, Chingulungulu and Zuza’s. Jumbe Chauro, a
Makonde hamlet not far from Newala, on the road to Mahuta, is the
most important settlement of the tribe I have yet seen, and has fairly
spacious huts. But how slovenly is their construction compared with
the palatial residences of the elephant-hunters living in the plain.
The roofs are still more untidy than in the general run of huts during
the dry season, the walls show here and there the scanty beginnings
or the lamentable remains of the mud plastering, and the interior is a
veritable dog-kennel; dirt, dust and disorder everywhere. A few huts
only show any attempt at division into rooms, and this consists
merely of very roughly-made bamboo partitions. In one point alone
have I noticed any indication of progress—in the method of fastening
the door. Houses all over the south are secured in a simple but
ingenious manner. The door consists of a set of stout pieces of wood
or bamboo, tied with bark-string to two cross-pieces, and moving in
two grooves round one of the door-posts, so as to open inwards. If
the owner wishes to leave home, he takes two logs as thick as a man’s
upper arm and about a yard long. One of these is placed obliquely
against the middle of the door from the inside, so as to form an angle
of from 60° to 75° with the ground. He then places the second piece
horizontally across the first, pressing it downward with all his might.
It is kept in place by two strong posts planted in the ground a few
inches inside the door. This fastening is absolutely safe, but of course
cannot be applied to both doors at once, otherwise how could the
owner leave or enter his house? I have not yet succeeded in finding
out how the back door is fastened.

MAKONDE LOCK AND KEY AT JUMBE CHAURO

 This is the general way of closing a house. The Makonde at Jumbe
Chauro, however, have a much more complicated, solid and original
one. Here, too, the door is as already described, except that there is
only one post on the inside, standing by itself about six inches from
one side of the doorway. Opposite this post is a hole in the wall just
large enough to admit a man’s arm. The door is closed inside by a
large wooden bolt passing through a hole in this post and pressing
with its free end against the door. The other end has three holes into
which fit three pegs running in vertical grooves inside the post. The
door is opened with a wooden key about a foot long, somewhat
curved and sloped off at the butt; the other end has three pegs
corresponding to the holes, in the bolt, so that, when it is thrust
through the hole in the wall and inserted into the rectangular
opening in the post, the pegs can be lifted and the bolt drawn out.[50]

MODE OF INSERTING THE KEY

With no small pride first one householder and then a second

showed me on the spot the action of this greatest invention of the
Makonde Highlands. To both with an admiring exclamation of
“Vizuri sana!” (“Very fine!”). I expressed the wish to take back these
marvels with me to Ulaya, to show the Wazungu what clever fellows
the Makonde are. Scarcely five minutes after my return to camp at
Newala, the two men came up sweating under the weight of two
heavy logs which they laid down at my feet, handing over at the same
time the keys of the fallen fortress. Arguing, logically enough, that if
the key was wanted, the lock would be wanted with it, they had taken
their axes and chopped down the posts—as it never occurred to them
to dig them out of the ground and so bring them intact. Thus I have
two badly damaged specimens, and the owners, instead of praise,
come in for a blowing-up.
The Makua huts in the environs of Newala are especially
miserable; their more than slovenly construction reminds one of the
temporary erections of the Makua at Hatia’s, though the people here
have not been concerned in a war. It must therefore be due to
congenital idleness, or else to the absence of a powerful chief. Even
the baraza at Mlipa’s, a short hour’s walk south-east of Newala,
shares in this general neglect. While public buildings in this country
are usually looked after more or less carefully, this is in evident
danger of being blown over by the first strong easterly gale. The only
attractive object in this whole district is the grave of the late chief
Mlipa. I visited it in the morning, while the sun was still trying with
partial success to break through the rolling mists, and the circular
grove of tall euphorbias, which, with a broken pot, is all that marks
the old king’s resting-place, impressed one with a touch of pathos.
Even my very materially-minded carriers seemed to feel something
of the sort, for instead of their usual ribald songs, they chanted
solemnly, as we marched on through the dense green of the Makonde
bush:—
 “We shall arrive with the great master; we stand in a row and have
no fear about getting our food and our money from the Serkali (the
Government). We are not afraid; we are going along with the great
master, the lion; we are going down to the coast and back.”
With regard to the characteristic features of the various tribes here
on the western edge of the plateau, I can arrive at no other
conclusion than the one already come to in the plain, viz., that it is
impossible for anyone but a trained anthropologist to assign any
given individual at once to his proper tribe. In fact, I think that even
an anthropological specialist, after the most careful examination,
might find it a difficult task to decide. The whole congeries of peoples
collected in the region bounded on the west by the great Central
African rift, Tanganyika and Nyasa, and on the east by the Indian
Ocean, are closely related to each other—some of their languages are
only distinguished from one another as dialects of the same speech,
and no doubt all the tribes present the same shape of skull and
structure of skeleton. Thus, surely, there can be no very striking
differences in outward appearance.
 Even did such exist, I should have no time
to concern myself with them, for day after day,
I have to see or hear, as the case may be—in
any case to grasp and record—an
extraordinary number of ethnographic
phenomena. I am almost disposed to think it
fortunate that some departments of inquiry, at
least, are barred by external circumstances.
Chief among these is the subject of iron-
working. We are apt to think of Africa as a
country where iron ore is everywhere, so to
speak, to be picked up by the roadside, and
where it would be quite surprising if the
inhabitants had not learnt to smelt the
material ready to their hand. In fact, the
knowledge of this art ranges all over the
continent, from the Kabyles in the north to the
Kafirs in the south. Here between the Rovuma
and the Lukuledi the conditions are not so
favourable. According to the statements of the
Makonde, neither ironstone nor any other
form of iron ore is known to them. They have
not therefore advanced to the art of smelting
the metal, but have hitherto bought all their
THE ANCESTRESS OF
THE MAKONDE
iron implements from neighbouring tribes.
Even in the plain the inhabitants are not much
better off. Only one man now living is said to
understand the art of smelting iron. This old fundi lives close to
Huwe, that isolated, steep-sided block of granite which rises out of
the green solitude between Masasi and Chingulungulu, and whose
jagged and splintered top meets the traveller’s eye everywhere. While
still at Masasi I wished to see this man at work, but was told that,
frightened by the rising, he had retired across the Rovuma, though
he would soon return. All subsequent inquiries as to whether the
fundi had come back met with the genuine African answer, “Bado”
(“Not yet”).
 BRAZIER

Some consolation was afforded me by a brassfounder, whom I

came across in the bush near Akundonde’s. This man is the favourite
of women, and therefore no doubt of the gods; he welds the glittering
brass rods purchased at the coast into those massive, heavy rings
which, on the wrists and ankles of the local fair ones, continually give
me fresh food for admiration. Like every decent master-craftsman he
had all his tools with him, consisting of a pair of bellows, three
crucibles and a hammer—nothing more, apparently. He was quite
willing to show his skill, and in a twinkling had fixed his bellows on
the ground. They are simply two goat-skins, taken off whole, the four
legs being closed by knots, while the upper opening, intended to
admit the air, is kept stretched by two pieces of wood. At the lower
end of the skin a smaller opening is left into which a wooden tube is
stuck. The fundi has quickly borrowed a heap of wood-embers from
the nearest hut; he then fixes the free ends of the two tubes into an
earthen pipe, and clamps them to the ground by means of a bent
piece of wood. Now he fills one of his small clay crucibles, the dross
on which shows that they have been long in use, with the yellow
material, places it in the midst of the embers, which, at present are
only faintly glimmering, and begins his work. In quick alternation
the smith’s two hands move up and down with the open ends of the
bellows; as he raises his hand he holds the slit wide open, so as to let
the air enter the skin bag unhindered. In pressing it down he closes
the bag, and the air puffs through the bamboo tube and clay pipe into
the fire, which quickly burns up. The smith, however, does not keep
on with this work, but beckons to another man, who relieves him at
the bellows, while he takes some more tools out of a large skin pouch
carried on his back. I look on in wonder as, with a smooth round
stick about the thickness of a finger, he bores a few vertical holes into
the clean sand of the soil. This should not be difficult, yet the man
seems to be taking great pains over it. Then he fastens down to the
ground, with a couple of wooden clamps, a neat little trough made by
splitting a joint of bamboo in half, so that the ends are closed by the
two knots. At last the yellow metal has attained the right consistency,
and the fundi lifts the crucible from the fire by means of two sticks
split at the end to serve as tongs. A short swift turn to the left—a
tilting of the crucible—and the molten brass, hissing and giving forth
clouds of smoke, flows first into the bamboo mould and then into the
holes in the ground.
The technique of this backwoods craftsman may not be very far
advanced, but it cannot be denied that he knows how to obtain an
adequate result by the simplest means. The ladies of highest rank in
this country—that is to say, those who can afford it, wear two kinds
of these massive brass rings, one cylindrical, the other semicircular
in section. The latter are cast in the most ingenious way in the
bamboo mould, the former in the circular hole in the sand. It is quite
a simple matter for the fundi to fit these bars to the limbs of his fair
customers; with a few light strokes of his hammer he bends the
pliable brass round arm or ankle without further inconvenience to
the wearer.
SHAPING THE POT

SMOOTHING WITH MAIZE-COB

CUTTING THE EDGE

 FINISHING THE BOTTOM

LAST SMOOTHING BEFORE

BURNING

FIRING THE BRUSH-PILE

 LIGHTING THE FARTHER SIDE OF
THE PILE

TURNING THE RED-HOT VESSEL

NYASA WOMAN MAKING POTS AT MASASI

Pottery is an art which must always and everywhere excite the
interest of the student, just because it is so intimately connected with
the development of human culture, and because its relics are one of
the principal factors in the reconstruction of our own condition in
prehistoric times. I shall always remember with pleasure the two or
three afternoons at Masasi when Salim Matola’s mother, a slightly-
built, graceful, pleasant-looking woman, explained to me with
touching patience, by means of concrete illustrations, the ceramic art
of her people. The only implements for this primitive process were a
lump of clay in her left hand, and in the right a calabash containing
the following valuables: the fragment of a maize-cob stripped of all
its grains, a smooth, oval pebble, about the size of a pigeon’s egg, a
few chips of gourd-shell, a bamboo splinter about the length of one’s
hand, a small shell, and a bunch of some herb resembling spinach.
 Nothing more. The woman scraped with the
shell a round, shallow hole in the soft, fine
sand of the soil, and, when an active young
girl had filled the calabash with water for her,
she began to knead the clay. As if by magic it
gradually assumed the shape of a rough but
already well-shaped vessel, which only wanted
a little touching up with the instruments
before mentioned. I looked out with the
MAKUA WOMAN closest attention for any indication of the use
MAKING A POT. of the potter’s wheel, in however rudimentary
SHOWS THE a form, but no—hapana (there is none). The
BEGINNINGS OF THE embryo pot stood firmly in its little
POTTER’S WHEEL
depression, and the woman walked round it in
a stooping posture, whether she was removing
small stones or similar foreign bodies with the maize-cob, smoothing
the inner or outer surface with the splinter of bamboo, or later, after
letting it dry for a day, pricking in the ornamentation with a pointed
bit of gourd-shell, or working out the bottom, or cutting the edge
with a sharp bamboo knife, or giving the last touches to the finished
vessel. This occupation of the women is infinitely toilsome, but it is
without doubt an accurate reproduction of the process in use among
our ancestors of the Neolithic and Bronze ages.
There is no doubt that the invention of pottery, an item in human
progress whose importance cannot be over-estimated, is due to
women. Rough, coarse and unfeeling, the men of the horde range
over the countryside. When the united cunning of the hunters has
succeeded in killing the game; not one of them thinks of carrying
home the spoil. A bright fire, kindled by a vigorous wielding of the
drill, is crackling beside them; the animal has been cleaned and cut
up secundum artem, and, after a slight singeing, will soon disappear
under their sharp teeth; no one all this time giving a single thought
to wife or child.
To what shifts, on the other hand, the primitive wife, and still more
the primitive mother, was put! Not even prehistoric stomachs could
endure an unvarying diet of raw food. Something or other suggested
the beneficial effect of hot water on the majority of approved but
indigestible dishes. Perhaps a neighbour had tried holding the hard
roots or tubers over the fire in a calabash filled with water—or maybe
an ostrich-egg-shell, or a hastily improvised vessel of bark. They
became much softer and more palatable than they had previously
been; but, unfortunately, the vessel could not stand the fire and got
charred on the outside. That can be remedied, thought our
ancestress, and plastered a layer of wet clay round a similar vessel.
This is an improvement; the cooking utensil remains uninjured, but
the heat of the fire has shrunk it, so that it is loose in its shell. The
next step is to detach it, so, with a firm grip and a jerk, shell and
kernel are separated, and pottery is invented. Perhaps, however, the
discovery which led to an intelligent use of the burnt-clay shell, was
made in a slightly different way. Ostrich-eggs and calabashes are not
to be found in every part of the world, but everywhere mankind has
arrived at the art of making baskets out of pliant materials, such as
bark, bast, strips of palm-leaf, supple twigs, etc. Our inventor has no
water-tight vessel provided by nature. “Never mind, let us line the
basket with clay.” This answers the purpose, but alas! the basket gets
burnt over the blazing fire, the woman watches the process of
cooking with increasing uneasiness, fearing a leak, but no leak
appears. The food, done to a turn, is eaten with peculiar relish; and
the cooking-vessel is examined, half in curiosity, half in satisfaction
at the result. The plastic clay is now hard as stone, and at the same
time looks exceedingly well, for the neat plaiting of the burnt basket
is traced all over it in a pretty pattern. Thus, simultaneously with
pottery, its ornamentation was invented.
Primitive woman has another claim to respect. It was the man,
roving abroad, who invented the art of producing fire at will, but the
woman, unable to imitate him in this, has been a Vestal from the
earliest times. Nothing gives so much trouble as the keeping alight of
the smouldering brand, and, above all, when all the men are absent
from the camp. Heavy rain-clouds gather, already the first large
drops are falling, the first gusts of the storm rage over the plain. The
little flame, a greater anxiety to the woman than her own children,
flickers unsteadily in the blast. What is to be done? A sudden thought
occurs to her, and in an instant she has constructed a primitive hut
out of strips of bark, to protect the flame against rain and wind.
This, or something very like it, was the way in which the principle
of the house was discovered; and even the most hardened misogynist
cannot fairly refuse a woman the credit of it. The protection of the
hearth-fire from the weather is the germ from which the human
dwelling was evolved. Men had little, if any share, in this forward
step, and that only at a late stage. Even at the present day, the
plastering of the housewall with clay and the manufacture of pottery
are exclusively the women’s business. These are two very significant
survivals. Our European kitchen-garden, too, is originally a woman’s
invention, and the hoe, the primitive instrument of agriculture, is,
characteristically enough, still used in this department. But the
noblest achievement which we owe to the other sex is unquestionably
the art of cookery. Roasting alone—the oldest process—is one for
which men took the hint (a very obvious one) from nature. It must
have been suggested by the scorched carcase of some animal
overtaken by the destructive forest-fires. But boiling—the process of
improving organic substances by the help of water heated to boiling-
point—is a much later discovery. It is so recent that it has not even
yet penetrated to all parts of the world. The Polynesians understand
how to steam food, that is, to cook it, neatly wrapped in leaves, in a
hole in the earth between hot stones, the air being excluded, and
(sometimes) a few drops of water sprinkled on the stones; but they
do not understand boiling.
To come back from this digression, we find that the slender Nyasa
woman has, after once more carefully examining the finished pot,
put it aside in the shade to dry. On the following day she sends me
word by her son, Salim Matola, who is always on hand, that she is
going to do the burning, and, on coming out of my house, I find her
already hard at work. She has spread on the ground a layer of very
dry sticks, about as thick as one’s thumb, has laid the pot (now of a
yellowish-grey colour) on them, and is piling brushwood round it.
My faithful Pesa mbili, the mnyampara, who has been standing by,
most obligingly, with a lighted stick, now hands it to her. Both of
them, blowing steadily, light the pile on the lee side, and, when the
flame begins to catch, on the weather side also. Soon the whole is in a
blaze, but the dry fuel is quickly consumed and the fire dies down, so
that we see the red-hot vessel rising from the ashes. The woman
turns it continually with a long stick, sometimes one way and
sometimes another, so that it may be evenly heated all over. In
twenty minutes she rolls it out of the ash-heap, takes up the bundle
of spinach, which has been lying for two days in a jar of water, and
sprinkles the red-hot clay with it. The places where the drops fall are
marked by black spots on the uniform reddish-brown surface. With a
sigh of relief, and with visible satisfaction, the woman rises to an
erect position; she is standing just in a line between me and the fire,
from which a cloud of smoke is just rising: I press the ball of my
camera, the shutter clicks—the apotheosis is achieved! Like a
priestess, representative of her inventive sex, the graceful woman
stands: at her feet the hearth-fire she has given us beside her the
invention she has devised for us, in the background the home she has
built for us.
At Newala, also, I have had the manufacture of pottery carried on
in my presence. Technically the process is better than that already
described, for here we find the beginnings of the potter’s wheel,
which does not seem to exist in the plains; at least I have seen
nothing of the sort. The artist, a frightfully stupid Makua woman, did
not make a depression in the ground to receive the pot she was about
to shape, but used instead a large potsherd. Otherwise, she went to
work in much the same way as Salim’s mother, except that she saved
herself the trouble of walking round and round her work by squatting
at her ease and letting the pot and potsherd rotate round her; this is
surely the first step towards a machine. But it does not follow that
the pot was improved by the process. It is true that it was beautifully
rounded and presented a very creditable appearance when finished,
but the numerous large and small vessels which I have seen, and, in
part, collected, in the “less advanced” districts, are no less so. We
moderns imagine that instruments of precision are necessary to
produce excellent results. Go to the prehistoric collections of our
museums and look at the pots, urns and bowls of our ancestors in the
dim ages of the past, and you will at once perceive your error.
MAKING LONGITUDINAL CUT IN
BARK

DRAWING THE BARK OFF THE LOG

REMOVING THE OUTER BARK

 BEATING THE BARK

WORKING THE BARK-CLOTH AFTER BEATING, TO MAKE IT

SOFT

MANUFACTURE OF BARK-CLOTH AT NEWALA

To-day, nearly the whole population of German East Africa is
clothed in imported calico. This was not always the case; even now in
some parts of the north dressed skins are still the prevailing wear,
and in the north-western districts—east and north of Lake
Tanganyika—lies a zone where bark-cloth has not yet been
superseded. Probably not many generations have passed since such
bark fabrics and kilts of skins were the only clothing even in the
south. Even to-day, large quantities of this bright-red or drab
material are still to be found; but if we wish to see it, we must look in
the granaries and on the drying stages inside the native huts, where
it serves less ambitious uses as wrappings for those seeds and fruits
which require to be packed with special care. The salt produced at
Masasi, too, is packed for transport to a distance in large sheets of
bark-cloth. Wherever I found it in any degree possible, I studied the
process of making this cloth. The native requisitioned for the
purpose arrived, carrying a log between two and three yards long and
as thick as his thigh, and nothing else except a curiously-shaped
mallet and the usual long, sharp and pointed knife which all men and
boys wear in a belt at their backs without a sheath—horribile dictu!
[51]
Silently he squats down before me, and with two rapid cuts has
drawn a couple of circles round the log some two yards apart, and
slits the bark lengthwise between them with the point of his knife.
With evident care, he then scrapes off the outer rind all round the
log, so that in a quarter of an hour the inner red layer of the bark
shows up brightly-coloured between the two untouched ends. With
some trouble and much caution, he now loosens the bark at one end,
and opens the cylinder. He then stands up, takes hold of the free
edge with both hands, and turning it inside out, slowly but steadily
pulls it off in one piece. Now comes the troublesome work of
scraping all superfluous particles of outer bark from the outside of
the long, narrow piece of material, while the inner side is carefully
scrutinised for defective spots. At last it is ready for beating. Having
signalled to a friend, who immediately places a bowl of water beside
him, the artificer damps his sheet of bark all over, seizes his mallet,
lays one end of the stuff on the smoothest spot of the log, and
hammers away slowly but continuously. “Very simple!” I think to
myself. “Why, I could do that, too!”—but I am forced to change my
opinions a little later on; for the beating is quite an art, if the fabric is
not to be beaten to pieces. To prevent the breaking of the fibres, the
stuff is several times folded across, so as to interpose several
thicknesses between the mallet and the block. At last the required
state is reached, and the fundi seizes the sheet, still folded, by both
ends, and wrings it out, or calls an assistant to take one end while he
holds the other. The cloth produced in this way is not nearly so fine
and uniform in texture as the famous Uganda bark-cloth, but it is
quite soft, and, above all, cheap.
Now, too, I examine the mallet. My craftsman has been using the
simpler but better form of this implement, a conical block of some
hard wood, its base—the striking surface—being scored across and
across with more or less deeply-cut grooves, and the handle stuck
into a hole in the middle. The other and earlier form of mallet is
shaped in the same way, but the head is fastened by an ingenious
network of bark strips into the split bamboo serving as a handle. The
observation so often made, that ancient customs persist longest in
connection with religious ceremonies and in the life of children, here
finds confirmation. As we shall soon see, bark-cloth is still worn
during the unyago,[52] having been prepared with special solemn
ceremonies; and many a mother, if she has no other garment handy,
will still put her little one into a kilt of bark-cloth, which, after all,
looks better, besides being more in keeping with its African
surroundings, than the ridiculous bit of print from Ulaya.
MAKUA WOMEN