113 HOME LIFE ON AN OSTRICH FARM. 



Fortunately, you are never assailed by more than 

 one ostrich at a time ; for in the large camps of some 

 two thousand acres each — ^in which the birds are not 

 fenced off in pairs, but live almost in the freedom of 

 wild creatures — each one has his own domain, separa- 

 ted from those of others by some imaginary boundary- 

 line of his own, visible only to himself, but as clearly 

 marked out as the beat of a London policeman. There, 

 in company with one or perhaps two hens, he dwells 

 monarch of all he surveys ; any other ostrich daring to 

 invade his territory is at once attacked ; and the human 

 intruder is closely followed, his tackey in constant 

 requisition, until the feathered lord of the land has 

 seen him safely off the premises. Immediately after 

 thus speeding the parting guest, the most savage bird 

 is quite harmless ; he dismisses you from his thoughts, 

 and walks quietly back, feeding as he goes. And in 

 the distance you see the head and long neck of his 

 neighbour, whose kingdom you have now entered, and 

 whose sharp eyes spied you out the instant your foot 

 crossed his frontier. He now advances towards you 

 with jerky, spasmodic movements, as if he were bowing 

 you a welcome ; this, however, is far from his thoughts, 

 and after sitting down once or twice to give you his 

 challenge — whereby he hopes you will be intimidated 

 — he trots up defiantly, and the tackey's services are 

 again required. Thus, during a morning's walk through 

 the camps, you may be escorted in succession by four 

 or five vicious birds, all determined to have your life 

 if possible, yet held completely in check by a few 

 mimosa thorns. 



