Andy Willson, East Aurora, New York
If you fall victim to a taipan's venom, get thee to an emergency room
posthaste. This snake, indigenous to Australia and Papua New Guinea, makes
the bite of a copperhead or rattlesnake seem like a bee sting. Without
the requisite antivenin, you could die in as little as 30 minutes.
And it's not a pleasant way to go: The taipan's fast-acting neurotoxin ravages the nervous system and can cause seizures, suffocation, renal collapse, and heart failure. In Australia, home to more species of venomous snakes than any country in the world, the taipan ranks as the most lethal of all. Just one bite can pack enough venom to kill several people, and in toxicity tests, a single dose of its poison -- a deadly brew of toxins and enzymes -- has been found to dispatch upwards of 200,000 mice. Before the lifesaving antivenin was developed, virtually no one survived envenomization by this ophidian -- not even the Australian herpetologist credited with being the first to capture a live one. Dangers aside, venom milked (gingerly) from taipans is used in medical research, because it is loaded with a host of complex chemicals that might someday actually prove to be beneficial to humans.
I inherited two Audubon prints, hand-engraved in London by R. Havell in 1828. One depicts orchard orioles; the other shows American goldfinches. Can you tell me what they are worth?
J. Schulz, New York, New York
At the age of 35, John James Audubon resolved to document every bird
species in the United States. About two years later, on April 12, 1822,
the largely self-taught artist-naturalist put the finishing strokes on
his illustration of five orchard orioles while working in his studio in
Natchez, Mississippi. In 1824, while trying to drum up support for his
ambitious project, he traveled along New York's Mohawk River, where he
observed more goldfinches than he had ever seen before and likely worked
on the other picture you have. When he found insufficient interest in America,
the determined Audubon set sail for England, where he finally met his kismet.
Between 1827 and 1838, he published 435 aquatint plates based on paintings
made from his New World explorations. Engraved in London by Robert Havell,
the hand-colored portraits were sold in sets for the then princely sum
of $1,000. Because of their popularity, Audubon's Birds of America prints
have been widely copied. Originals are rare and can be quite valuable:
One first-edition set fetched $4 million at an auction in 1991. Individual
prints may be worth several thousand dollars. To find out if yours are
authentic, contact either a reputable auction house such as Christie's
or a qualified dealer like the Old Print Shop, both in New York City, or
W. Graham Arader III, located nationwide. "But don't expect to finance
a trip around the world or a child's college education," warns Wendy Shadwell,
curator of prints at the New-York Historical Society, the largest repository
of Audubon paintings and prints. She receives at least one inquiry a week
from people believing they own the genuine article. Only once in the last
25 years has someone been so lucky.
Several years ago, a white buffalo was born. What's happened to it since then?
Nannette Beavers, Norfolk, Virginia
A number of rare white bison -- animals revered by many Plains Indian
tribes -- have been born in recent years, the most publicized being a female
named Miracle, in August 1994, at a farm in Janesville, Wisconsin. Native
Americans hailed her as the embodiment of the legendary White Buffalo Woman
-- a sacred figure to the Sioux -- and a harbinger of a new age of unity
and peace.
Within two years of Miracle's birth, 75,000 people had visited her and news organizations worldwide had filed stories about her. Miracle's coat has since darkened to a more standard hue, and last year she had her firstborn, a normal-colored calf named Millennium. After Miracle, other white buffalo were born, including two on the Pine Ridge Reservation, in South Dakota. The recent white buffalo births indicate increasing genetic diversity within the species, which was nearly exterminated by hunting in the late 1800s. Ordinarily, newborn calves sport reddish coats during their first six months of life. The odds of having white fur are estimated to be about 16 in a million. According to Sam Albrecht of the National Buffalo Association, the population of American bison now stands at approximately 250,000.
