“I’ve been sorry for her right along,” said the Virginian. “She does
hate the roosters so.” And he said that he was making a collection of
every class of object which he found her treating as eggs.
But Em’ly’s egg-industry was terminated abruptly one morning, and her
unquestioned energies diverted to a new channel. A turkey which had been
sitting in the root-house appeared with twelve children, and a family of
bantams occurred almost simultaneously. Em’ly was importantly scratching
the soil inside Paladin’s corral when the bantam tribe of newly born
came by down the lane, and she caught sight of them through the bars.
She crossed the corral at a run, and intercepted two of the chicks that
were trailing somewhat behind their real mamma. These she undertook
to appropriate, and assumed a high tone with the bantam, who was the
smaller, and hence obliged to retreat with her still numerous family.
I interfered, and put matters straight; but the adjustment was only
temporary. In an hour I saw Em’ly immensely busy with two more bantams,
leading them about and taking a care of them which I must admit seemed
perfectly efficient.
And now came the first incident that made me suspect her to be demented.
She had proceeded with her changelings behind the kitchen, where one of
the irrigation ditches ran under the fence from the hay-field to supply
the house with water. Some distance along this ditch inside the field
were the twelve turkeys in the short, recently cut stubble. Again Em’ly
set off instantly like a deer. She left the dismayed bantams behind her.
She crossed the ditch with one jump of her stout blue legs, flew over
the grass, and was at once among the turkeys, where, with an instinct
of maternity as undiscriminating as it was reckless, she attempted to
huddle some of them away. But this other mamma was not a bantam, and in
a few moments Em’ly was entirely routed in her attempt to acquire a new
variety of family.
This spectacle was witnessed by the Virginian and myself, and it
overcame him. He went speechless across to the bunk-house, by himself,
and sat on his bed, while I took the abandoned bantams back to their own
circle.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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