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Vol. V, 



_ 



# 



m .. 



ALBION, N. Y., DEC, 1888. 



No. 12 



Ostrich Farming. 



On tliis sunny border of land we are used 

 to seeing almost everything growing in the 

 tropical gardens— even to ostrich feathers, 

 which are a ciop that is highly interesting. 

 We crossed the bay by ferry from San 

 Diego to Cororado on a dazzling morning; 

 were whirled up an avenue between rows of 

 orange tr^es, peppers and palms, and linger- 

 ed in the plaza gay in the sunlight with a 

 wealth of odorous blossoms and whispering 

 acacias; paused before the closed redwood 

 gate of the ostrich camp. A man with a 

 long forked pole and with a dog at his 

 heels, answered our summons, opened the 

 closed gates and ushered us in. 



"Hey, Pet! hey, Pet! here, Pet! hey, hey, 

 hey!" he called, and down the field from 

 the upper end of the inclosure came "Pet, " 

 and all the others "pets" in the most grace- 

 ful, comical, undulating, waltz-like trot 

 imaginable, poking their long flat bills over 

 the redwood bars at us as though they had 

 paid their " two bits " to see us. 



"Oh! they know their names! " we cried 

 in a little gush of admiration. "Which is 

 Pet? Do tell us!" 



The man with the forked pole chuckled 

 and reaching through the bars with the 

 stick, picked up a moulted feather that 

 fluttered along on the ground just ahead of 

 him and handed it to us. "They don't 

 know a thing," he said, contradictorily. 

 " They don't know a name, and they can't 

 learn one; but I have to call them some- 

 thing. They don't even know me, and I 

 have taken care of them ever since the 

 chicks were hatched. ' ' 



Then he proceeded to give us the history 

 of the camp. 



The old birds are 31 years of age, and 

 were brought from Cape (Jolony at a cost of 

 $500 a piece to import them. The re- 

 mainder of the herd are young birds, from 2 

 to 2i years old, raised at Falibrook, about 

 fifty miles north of San Diego, where a 

 Boston firm has for a number of years 

 conducted an ostrich ranch on a large scale. 

 They have experimented long enough to 

 thoroughly demonstrate that no climate in 

 the world can breed better ostriches than 

 this very spot- and they have not only 

 proven their undertaking a success — they 

 are finding it lucrative in a surprising 

 degree. 



Now an ostrich chick is not very " cute," 

 with its big pink eyes, a terribly swelled 



neck, and the webbiest kind of feet that 

 separate only gradually into something like 

 toes and will not allow the fowl to get on its 

 legs until it is several days old. But when 

 it begins to devolop it becomes more in- 

 teresting, aud after the first week you can 

 fairly see it grow. Soon the soft gray fuzz 

 with which it is covered begins to lengthen 

 out into little downy sprouting mustaches 

 of feathers, and it really looks cunning. 

 Day by day it grows fluffier, its wings take 

 shape and short bristling quills, like a 

 hedgehog's quills, push into sight along its 

 wing-edges. These are its future plume- 

 spines. By degrees, as the biped's legs and 

 neck lengthen, its gray plumage deepens in 

 shade if a male, lightens if a female. In 

 the course of time the male bird's coat 

 turns to a jetty black, relieved only under- 

 neath the wings and along their edges by 

 pure white plumes ; and his legs and bill are 

 a vivid scarlet. He is a great beauty now, 

 and when he lifts his wings broadly and 

 comes waltzing down his park over the 

 white sand in the dazzling sun, we forgive 

 him for all his lack of brains and almost 

 envy him his plnmes. 



But alas, poor fellow! he loses his beauty 

 soon enough. When he arrives at the 

 mature age of 1 year his lovely plumage 

 must be plucked and marketed. Formerly, 

 in his wild state, the only method known for 

 this process was to ' ' wind him down " and 

 strij) him of his plumes after his hard 

 death. Now he is plucked with com- 

 parative ease while very much alive, and 

 then set free to grow another crop, which 

 he usually brings to perfection about every 

 nine months. Only his tail and wings, 

 however, are despoiled; his body-feathers 

 are not disturbed. 



The feat of plucking the bird requires 

 only a little strategy to accomplish it 

 easily. Two men enter the camp together. 

 In one corner a high stall, 3^ feet wide, is 

 constructed. Into this stall one throws a 

 handful of grain ; the bird thrusts his head 

 in to pick it from the ground ; the second 

 attendant gives him a swift, but gentle 

 shove, which sends him further into the 

 stall, when No. 1 thrusts a hand well along 

 his neck and crowds his head along into a 

 stout stocking-like bag made fast to the stall 

 at the further end. The bird is caged, and 

 the plucking or clipping process can begin 

 at once, the picking being done from 

 behind — as it is only in front that he kicks. 



It is essential that the wing plumes be 

 cut or pulled with great care, as in them 



