formidable claw with which, the foot is armed." Those, however, who are well practiced in the use of the tackey have no difficulty in dealing with the most furious bird. They thrust the thorns in his face, and he shuts his eyes and is bewildered, and the man goes on. Fortunately, one is never assailed by more than one ostrich at a time; for, in the large camps, each one has his own domain, separated from those of the others by some imaginary boundary-line of his own, within which he defends his claims with vigor. Any other ostrich daring to invade his territory is at once attacked, and the human intruder is carefully looked out for till he is seen safely away. 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 neighbor, whose kingdom you have now entered, and whose sharp eyes spied you out the instant your foot crossed his frontier. He now advances toward 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. When an ostrich challenges, he sits down, and, flapping each broad wing alternately, inflates his neck and throws his head back, rolling it from side to side, and with each roll striking the back of his head against his bony body with so sharp and resounding a blow that a severe headache seems likely to be the result. A person on horseback is even more obnoxious to the ostriches than a pedestrian; and a ride through the camp enables one to realize how true to life is the description in the book of Job of a vicious bird: "What time she lifteth herself on high, she scorneth the horse and his rider." The creature, when preparing for an attack, draws itself up, stands on tiptoe, stretches its neck to the full extent, and really seems to gain several feet in height. The birds are very uncertain in their affections, and take sudden and unaccountable dislikes; and they are sometimes so vicious that the herdsmen have to kill them in self-defense—and as this usually happens with the finest ostriches, with considerable loss to the proprietor. Mrs. Martin had an opportunity of witnessing from her window the regularity with which a pair of birds, sitting alternately on the eggs, came on and off at their fixed times. "The cock always takes his place upon the nest at sundown, and sits through the night—his dark plumage making him much less conspicuous than the light-colored hen; with his superior strength
