THE DESERT AND THE ROSE 163 



held on to it. Yet another episode: One of my 

 birds, after winning at a show the prize offered for 

 the best hen of any breed, decided to range herself, 

 and with my half-hearted consent spread her smart- 

 ly plumaged, leg-banded person over ten eggs of 

 her own laying — such eggs rarely weighing less 

 than four ounces. As setter and mother her con- 

 duct was exemplary, and all went well until one 

 fearsome day a hawk swooped down upon the scat- 

 tered poultry, and instead of fleeing for refuge as 

 did every other hen and chick on the place, she 

 held her ground, gathering her brood under her 

 wings. Before Ricardo could rush armed upon 

 the tragic scene she had lost both eyes in deadly 

 combat, although her chicks were saved. True to 

 her fighting blood she died ; and the hawk died too. 

 But this was not the end. As correspondent to one 

 of the poultry papers I related the whole affair, and 

 at once the big eastern Minorca breeders rebelled. 

 A premium hen set and rear chickens? Nonsense! 

 She must have been a mongrel ! I was called on to 

 furnish evidence, which was easy enough. My 

 Minorcas were well known in the West and the 

 testimony to the hen's blue blood was soon forth- 

 coming and to the fact that she had indeed won 

 the great all-round premium. Minorca breeders 

 finally settled down to sheer amazement. 



From one show I brought back a somewhat un- 

 dersized but highbred Langshan cockerel, acting on 

 the advice of the judge when he learned that I had 

 some Langshan hens very nearly as fine as the 

 Minorcas. For some weeks the cockerel lived a se- 



