ON A SOUTH AFRICAN OSTRICH FARM

BY WILLIAM DURBAN

Of interesting an

F all the strange sights presented to the tourist in

ostrich farm. No longer is ostrich breeding confined to South Africa, for it has been introduced into the United States; but Cape Colony will always be better adapted than any other land to the profitable pursuit of this business. The "scrub" land of the Great Kalahari Desert is fit for nothing else, and so is very much of the bush-covered district immediately north of Cape Town. Flocks of wild ostriches run in different parts of the Kalahari. The shyness and swiftness on foot of this wonderful bird for ages made its lovely feathers a scarce commodity. Like most wild creatures, the ostrich persistently retreated into remoter deserts as civilization and colonization advanced, and the supply of ostrich plumes was therefore always extremely limited. In olden times only knightly warriors and princes and ladies of high rank wore the costly ornamentation. But the recent domestication of the ostrich has converted the once rare feathers into a staple article of commerce.

Till so late a date as 1864 it was confidently expected that the struthio camelus would soon be reckoned among the extinct birds, and naturalists feared that they would have wistfully to study it in stuffed specimens, like those of the dodo and the great auk. But such apprehensions were suddenly dispelled in the year 1864, when two Dutch farmers in different parts of the Colony succeeded in capturing some wild ostrich chicks. To the great delight of themselves and

their families they found little difficulty in so far taming them as to allow of their being kept in a well-fenced paddock and caught twice a year for the removal of their feathers.

Old hunters would not, for a time, believe that the experiment would lead to anything, for they averred that so shy a bird would never rear its young in captivity, for if the nest was once seen by man it would never return to it. In 1869 Mr. Arthur Douglass, of Heatherton, gave the answer to all these prognostications by perfecting an incubator and hatching eggs in large numbers. Before this the few birds hatched had proved wild and unmanageable, but the success of Mr. Douglass in artificial incubation solved the problem and created a new and magnificent industry. The young birds were secluded from their parents and reared by hand. These chicks were easily tamed, and the habits of the birds were thus wonderfully altered.

An ostrich farm is one of the prettiest sights imaginable. It is generally of enormous extent, like most farms in South Africa. It must not be thought that Afrikander farmers, whether British or Boer, are actuated by mere earth hunger or a mania for land-grabbing in their acquisition of holdings of from 6,000 to 10,000 acres. For instance, it is usual to say sarcastically of a Boer that he is discontented if he can see even miles away the smoke from his nearest neighbor's chimney. But the truth is that in that country it takes many acres to feed a very few sheep or oxen. Furthermore, districts which are covered with verdure after the winter rains, making the veldt in spring (which corresponds in the date of the year with our autumn) one flowery paradise, are all through the long, semi-tropical summer absolutely parched and swept by those appalling sand storms called "dust devils." Sunshine and dust turn the garden into a desert, and locusts come in swarms to do the rest.

On one of these vast farms, divided between cattle and ostriches, the herbage is a curious mixture, utterly unlike anything known in Britain, or even in any part of Europe.

It consists of grass, usually very coarse, like that seen in many parts of America, of short, dense succulent bushes, much relished by sheep, goats, and cattle, and of a sort of heather known as "karoo." But this is not exactly the best provender for the young ostrich chicks, which are accordingly furnished with soft green food in the shape of lucern. This is a very precious crop during the long droughts. Each farmer sets apart for it a few acres irrigated by means of pumps. The old Hottentot nurse soon becomes expert in taking care of his charge. He will have about him thirty little ostriches, for which he cuts up the lucern. He gives them their allowances of wheat and water, cuts up bones so as to provide them with phosphates, and scatters fine gravel, which fills their gizzards so that they can grind their food. Of his thirty little feathered children he takes the tenderest care, leading them back at sundown to the incubator for rest and warmth. If a rainstorm should come on he hurries with them to a warm, well-lighted room, with a clean sanded floor. The land put aside and inclosed simply for this little flock will cover quite 100 acres, and the great farm will include several such nursing inclosures, the fences being all of wire. There are camps of twentyfive acres, each of which is the haunt of a single pair of breeding ostriches. Beyond these are large camps of 2,000 acres, each containing 150 birds. When we remember that a farm may contain 400 breeding cattle and 600 ostriches, we realize that vast space is needed by a Boer who goes in for both branches of industry.

Sometimes the parent birds are allowed to hatch and brood their eggs and young ones in the camp. This is a risky method, for the eggs and chicks are thus exposed to cruel peril from the ravages of the numerous prowling carnivorous animals. The jackal is the inveterate foe of the ostrich. One of these depredators will destroy a whole brood of the birds in a night. All around every camp a farmer lays bits of meat containing strychnine, traps being set as well

for the wild animals. Thus thousands of the carnivora are poisoned or caught every year throughout the country. One consequence follows which adds wonderfully to the charm of these immense farms. They abound in the most beautiful game in the world. As the visitor walks about the vast estate he is delighted at frequent intervals to see springing up before him herds of beautiful deer and antelope. His host is generally proud to allow him to handle a rifle and to bring down a buck. These hosts, by the way, are by no means all Dutchmen. Men of different nationalities become Boers in a few generations, and many of them are intensely loyal to England. Loyalty and disloyalty, indeed, jostle each other in chaotic confusion all through South Africa, and as you roam about you never know of what political complexion the next farmer is going to turn out when you make his acquaintance.

The inspection of an ostrich's nest is a most dangerous operation for the uninitiated, on account of the ferocity of the male bird and the vigilance with which he guards the eggs. No Afrikander would think of approaching a nest without carrying with him a long piece of thorn bush. The hen, brooding on the nest, stretches out her neck on the sand, and thus assumes the aspect of one of the familiar ant heaps of the desert. Just as the visitor is getting interested in the curious sight he is startled by hearing three tremendous roars from the infuriated cock. These appalling sounds are so exactly like the roaring of a lion that even experienced hunters have in the night often been deceived. The three terrific notes are a danger signal that the cock is about to charge, which he does as fast as the swiftest horse can gallop. With the terrific thrust of his foot he can instantly fell the strongest man. Many an intruder has been killed in one of these encounters, which, however, are easily parried by the simple device of holding up the thorn bush on a level with the eyes of the bird, who instantly begins to dodge around to get at his foe. The tremendous kick loses

most of its force by the time the ground is reached, so that many a wanderer in the wilderness and many an incautious Kaffir on a farm have escaped by lying flat down and taking calmly the kicks which could only inflict a few nasty bruises, though they would have been fatal if received on the breast when standing in the way of the bird, whose toe is armed with a claw like a great iron beak.

The whole aspect of the valiant cock ostrich changes from ferocity to pathetic meekness if you once reach his nest and begin to handle the eggs. He now quietly stands by, uttering soft, plaintive cries, and beseeching the intruder not to break the eggs. The nest is only a bare, sandy hollow, containing fifteen splendid eggs, each weighing three pounds. On these the parents must sit for six weeks, the cock sitting by night and the hen by day, for the precious contents are coveted by jackals, baboons, and carrion crows, the latter knowing how to break them by letting stones fall from their beaks on the shells.

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