TURKEY IN FIJI.

New Zealand Times, Volume LVII, Issue 2549, 29 June 1895, Page 1 (Supplement)

TURKEY IN FIJI.

(From the Neiv Zealand Mail), Moat of us wont in for poultry, because t paid. I wont in for a lino of ten eggs that 1 got down from tho colonies, and I reckoned if I could only bring them up “halfway" tho other planter chaps would be jealous mad. Well, I got the ten turkeys out all right, but three days after the event my faithful old hen dropped stone dead. I think it was on account of the shuck when she realised what a rum-looking family the chicks were to bo, or, perhaps, tho other birds whispered scandalously like to each other. Well, different things in different climates sometimes assume different shapes, especially plants and such like ; but who would have thought of turkeys being any different. Before five weeks they were all taller than my champion rooster. I think they must have come from some breed that wore stilts. When I fed them in tho mornings tho whites used to appear in a good humour, and the blacks (some of them I owed wages to) used to smile audioly. Of course the chaps wore jealous, and they only pretended to chaff'just to hide their feelings. “Where yer off, Sam?" “Oh, see Yankee Pete feed his emus," or “ Going to have a look at Yank's new stylo bantams," and “ What think of Pete’s Split Carbines ?" These are only a few remarks that I overheard.

Well, 1 stuck to those ton turkeys ; they all averaged 3fb Sin. I would have got on well with them if they had not have taken to touring. They used to leave me after being fed in tho morning and march out regularly two and two. Neighbours said they went three miles to drill military on the quiet. They always came back late at night. They used to jump on to my roof (the only iron roof in the district) and slide from the gable to the spouting. That was their recreation. It it was very dark tho boy and I used to pelt them down with Vutu berries ; but if it was moonlight we did not care about

the whites seeing us do this, so we tried tojput up with the skating. Did ever anyone hear turkeys’ claws grafting on a corrugated iron roof ! I could not get used to the row, and my faithful poultry boy remarked one morning that unless he could get decent sleep he thought he would not be able to work for mo any more ; and could I do something with “ torkeo " to make them atop at home and sleep in the evenings like any other bird.

I had to kill them, they would never fatten (too fond of exercise), only grew laller and taller. Slowly, one by one, I slew the wanderers, and I had to go round to the boys and whites and pretend some bad mg had stolen one, or killed one, or ono had strayed somewhere. Some voice would murmur in answer to those enquiries, “Suppose it’s walked over the leef," “ ’Stonishir.g how fair and square too and ’eel them birds walk, Pete," “ Reckon the Governor collared it to entertain the squadron with “ Even now when I am only feeding plain fowls, tho district always appears to bo in good humour when it sees mo at it. Tho only thing that annoys mo is that I dare not now give any opinion or advice to anybody on roaring poultry. Someone just whispers a word and I am shut up. I am thinking I’ll shove cotton on tho run this season, and put in my spare time on a new reed fence. Besides, poultry is getting too common hero. j , Steff Cassanueh. . ’