Diamond Dyke Part 8

"No, old fellow. It's a failure this time. Man wants sharp eyes to get the better of an ostrich. I made sure we should get it, but we're done.

We've been over the ground times enough, and it's of no use."

"What! give up?" cried d.y.k.e merrily. "Didn't say we'd find it the first time, but I mean to have that nest, if I try till to-morrow morning."

"Well done, little un," shouted Emson, laughing. "That's the right spirit, and I should like to have had the eggs; it would have started us on again. But I'm afraid we shall be wasting time, for we've lost count now of the position where I saw the bird rise, and in this great waste we may wander farther and farther away."

"But we can tell by the hoof-marks where we've been."

"Yes; and we've pretty well examined the ground. I tell you what, we'll bring the gla.s.s this evening, and lie down watching till dark. We may see a bird come to the nest, and then we'll mark down the place, and one shall stop back, while the other rides forward, and number one can telegraph which way to go with his arms."

"I am disappointed," said d.y.k.e, looking round about him over the level plain.

"So am I, old chap, but we won't be damped. It's only putting it off.-- What are you looking at?"

"That," said d.y.k.e; and, kicking his nag's sides, he went off at a canter for a couple of hundred yards, and then sent up a joyous shout.

"Why, he has found it!" cried Emson; and galloping up, there sat d.y.k.e, flushed and happy, beside a depression in the sand, evidently sc.r.a.ped out, and with the sand banked round to keep the eggs in their places.

There they all were, thirty-nine in number, neatly arranged with their points downward, while outside were several more, and on d.y.k.e bending down, he found that they were all of a comfortable temperature; those lying outside being cold, and apparently freshly laid.

"Well, you have eyes, old chap!" cried Emson, slapping his brother on the shoulder, and then proceeding to loosen a coa.r.s.ely meshed net from behind his saddle. "Bravo, d.y.k.e! I told you the tide had turned.

We'll get these home at once and put them under one of our hens.

Shouldn't wonder if we get a nice little lot of chicks from these."

"If we can get them home without breaking."

"Oh, we'll do that," cried Emson, dismounting and spreading out the net upon the sand before they began carefully removing the spoil of the nest--that is to say, the eggs, which evidently contained chicks.

This done, the net was folded over and tied here and there so as to form a long bag, the ends fastened securely; and each taking an end, they mounted, and swinging between them the huge bag, which now weighed nearly a hundredweight, started for home. They left the new-laid eggs to be fetched that evening, or next morning, leaving them just as they were spread, looking clean and fresh, about the outside of the nest, much to d.y.k.e's regret.

"Why, we could manage them too," he said.

"We might, but if we did we should have mixed them up with the others, which would be a pity; for if we put them under a bird, they would only be addled, whereas if we keep them separate, they will be good either to set under another hen, or to eat. They will not hurt there."

d.y.k.e said no more, but held on tightly to the end of the net, helping his brother to keep their horses a sufficient distance apart, so that the egg purse might keep well off the ground, and not be shaken too much by the horses' gentle pace.

"Wonder what the young birds think of their ride," said d.y.k.e merrily.

"We shall have one of them chipping an egg presently, and poking out his head to see what's the matter, and why things are getting so cold."

"Cold, in this scorching sun!" said Emson; "why it would hatch them out.

Hold tight."

"Right it is!" cried d.y.k.e in seafaring style. "I say, what a smash it would be if I let go!"

"Ah, it would," said Emson; "but you won't. Cry stop when you're tired, and we'll change hands.--Steady, boy!" he continued to his horse, which seemed disposed to increase its speed, and they jogged gently along again.

"I always used to read that the ostriches did lay their eggs in the sand and leave them for the sun to hatch."

"There is some truth in it," said Emson; "but the old writers didn't get to the bottom of it. The sun would hatch them if it kept on shining, but the cold nights would chill the eggs and undo all the day's work.

It's of a night that the birds sit closest.--Like to change now?"

"Yes: they are getting heavy for one's wrist," said d.y.k.e; and the great purse was lowered to the ground, the eggs clicking together as if made of china. Then the brothers changed places and hands; raised the net; the horses hung apart again, and the slow journey was resumed.

"Gently!" cried d.y.k.e before they had gone very far. "If you hang away so hard, I shall be dragged out of the saddle."

The tension was relaxed, and they went on again riding by slow degrees back to Kopfontein, which they finally reached with their heavy and fragile load intact.

d.y.k.e was hungry enough, but they neither ate nor rested till their eggs were borne into one of the pens where three hens and their husband had a nest which contained only ten eggs, and these were known to be addled, for the time was long past for hatching; and upon the brothers approaching the nest, there was a great deal of hissing and cackling, the c.o.c.k bird beginning to roar like a lion, and stalking menacingly round the net, which he kept on inspecting curiously.

"Be on the lookout for a kick," said Emson, as the net was lowered.

"Oh, he won't kick me--will you, old chap?" cried d.y.k.e, giving the large bird a playful poke, which had the effect of sending him off remonstrating angrily, as if he resented such liberties being taken with his ribs. For he turned when he reached the fence, and stood fluttering his short wings, clucking, and making threatening gestures with his head.

The hen bird sitting was much more amenable to their approach, for, after a little persuasion, she rose in a very stately way, blinked her rather human-looking, eye-lashed optics, and stalked to the other wives to stand with them, hissing and cackling a little, while the bad eggs were removed and the fresh thirty-nine were put in their place, Emson arranging them as regularly as he could in accordance with the bird's habits.

But as d.y.k.e handed them to him one by one, they had hard work to get them in on account of the impatience displayed by the wives, two of which displayed a great eagerness to have first sit upon the nestful, and needing to be kept off until all were ready.

Then began a severe quarrel, and a good deal of pecking before the youngest and strongest succeeded in mounting upon the nest, shuffling the eggs about so as to get them more in accordance with her own idea of the fitness of things, and then, when all were in order, she settled down with her plumage regularly covering up the eggs, while the other birds now looked on.

"Do you double up your perambulators?" said d.y.k.e mockingly. "Yes, madam, I see you do; but pray don't put a toe through either of the sh.e.l.ls."

The hen uttered a strangely soft clucking kind of noise, as if in reply, and there was a peculiar look of satisfaction about the huge tame creature as she covered the gigantic clutch.

"So they are," said d.y.k.e--"something like eggs, aren't they?--I say, look at the others," he continued, as they stalked off to go apparently to discuss the new arrivals with the c.o.c.k bird over at the other side of the enclosure.

"There," said Emson, "you can have these addled eggs cleaned out, d.y.k.e, and we'll make chunking cups of them. When shall we fetch the other lot? This evening?"

"If you like."

"No; we'll leave it till to-morrow, and give the nags a rest."

CHAPTER SIX.

LIONS AT HOME.

Fortune smiled her brightest upon Joseph Emson when they first came up the country, travelling for months in their wagon, till Kopfontein, with its never-failing spring in the granite chasm, was settled upon as being a capital place to carry out the idea of the ostrich-farm. Then the rough house was run up, and in course of time pens and other enclosures made, and by very slow degrees stocked with the gigantic birds, princ.i.p.ally by help of Kaffir servants; Jack showing himself to be very clever in finding nests of eggs, but afterwards proving lazy and indifferent, excusing himself on the plea that "Baas got all eggs. No more. All gone."

It seemed to be a capital idea, and promised plenty of success, for at first the feathers they obtained from the Kaffirs sold well, making capital prices when sent down to Cape Town. Then the supply from the native hunters began to fail; and when at last the young farmers had plumes to sell of their own raising, prices had gone down terribly, and Emson saw plainly enough that he was losing by his venture.

Then he began to lose his birds by accident, by the destructive propensities of the goblin and a vicious old hen or two; and lastly, some kind of epidemic, which they dubbed ostrich chicken-pox, carried the young birds off wholesale.

Then d.y.k.e began to be damped, and grew dull, and soon his brother became low-spirited too, and for a whole year matters had gone on from bad to worse; Emson often asking himself whether it was not time to make a fresh start, but always coming to the same frame of mind that it was too soon to be beaten yet, and keeping a firm upper lip in the presence of his brother.

The morning after the finding of the ostrich's nest, they started again, taking the net, and keeping a keen lookout in the hope of discovering another.

"There's no reason why we should not," said Emson. "I've been too easy with Jack; he has not disturbed the birds around for months."