For the rest of July, the white turkeys grew fatter and happier. Farmer Brown's men brought their feed every morning at 10 AM and sometimes added some creamy mix which was delectable and they ate that and got fatter still.
The wild turkeys appeared like shadows every morning just before sun rise and pecked around the field outside the fence and they returned at dusk and fed near by.
The fields were going dry, outside the fence. Foraging for the wild turkeys was getting harder.
"Summers are getting hotter," Thomas was heard to say. "The fields are drying up into a sere."
There were no more incursions inside the fenced in yard, no more beheadings, no more bloody feathers.
In the dark, the white turkeys could some nights hear the wild turkeys calling to each other and sometimes they heard a fisher cat scream, which was blood curdling, but no fisher cat ever got by the fence.
With August, the fields turned to dust in places and , in the grazing fields where the wild turkeys roamed, the pickings were slim.
One morning, just after Farmer Brown had filled the feeding bins, a wild turkey swooped down and edged in among the white turkeys at the feeding bins. He was careful to not shove any white turkeys aside, because he seemed to understand the feed was for the white turkeys, but he looked famished and he ate what he could.
"I'm sorry," the wild turkey said. "But that feed looked so moist and plentiful and we are hungry, all of us. I'll not bother you."
The white turkeys were startled. They were startled because this had never happened before and they were startled because the wild turkey seemed to come out of nowhere, dropping out of the clouds, as it were. And they were startled to see how the fence did nothing to prevent the wild turkey from flying in.
And the fact was, there really was plenty of feed. The white turkeys never even finished it; they just ate until they could eat no more, so the polite wild turkey had only to stand back for fifteen minutes and he could feed.
Suddenly, a boom and blast and the wild turkey seemed jolted, as if he had touched the electric fence along the cow pasture, and he fell heavily where he had stood.
Farmer Brown appeared, holding his smoking shot gun in his right hand and with his left, he lifted the wild turkey by the neck.
"This bird tried to get in to steal your food," Farmer Brown boomed. "There is not enough of the good, rich feed for wild turkeys and prize white turkeys. This yard is full."
The white turkeys nodded and agreed, although they were a little shocked to see a turkey shot dead. They agreed it was unfortunate but necessary. Farmer Brown had acted for their benefit.
Through the gate on the goat pen side, the goats watched the events.
Brooks waddled over to where Delphi the goat was standing. Brooks was getting fatter and broader and moved with some effort.
"Farmer Brown does protect us," Brooks told the goat.
"Well," said the goat. "He does kill turkeys."
"A wild, brown, dark turkey," Brooks objected. "Who was trespassing."
"He can't sell wild turkey meat," Delphi noted. "He doesn't want to waste his feed on them."
The wild turkeys appeared like shadows every morning just before sun rise and pecked around the field outside the fence and they returned at dusk and fed near by.
The fields were going dry, outside the fence. Foraging for the wild turkeys was getting harder.
"Summers are getting hotter," Thomas was heard to say. "The fields are drying up into a sere."
There were no more incursions inside the fenced in yard, no more beheadings, no more bloody feathers.
In the dark, the white turkeys could some nights hear the wild turkeys calling to each other and sometimes they heard a fisher cat scream, which was blood curdling, but no fisher cat ever got by the fence.
With August, the fields turned to dust in places and , in the grazing fields where the wild turkeys roamed, the pickings were slim.
One morning, just after Farmer Brown had filled the feeding bins, a wild turkey swooped down and edged in among the white turkeys at the feeding bins. He was careful to not shove any white turkeys aside, because he seemed to understand the feed was for the white turkeys, but he looked famished and he ate what he could.
"I'm sorry," the wild turkey said. "But that feed looked so moist and plentiful and we are hungry, all of us. I'll not bother you."
The white turkeys were startled. They were startled because this had never happened before and they were startled because the wild turkey seemed to come out of nowhere, dropping out of the clouds, as it were. And they were startled to see how the fence did nothing to prevent the wild turkey from flying in.
And the fact was, there really was plenty of feed. The white turkeys never even finished it; they just ate until they could eat no more, so the polite wild turkey had only to stand back for fifteen minutes and he could feed.
Suddenly, a boom and blast and the wild turkey seemed jolted, as if he had touched the electric fence along the cow pasture, and he fell heavily where he had stood.
Farmer Brown appeared, holding his smoking shot gun in his right hand and with his left, he lifted the wild turkey by the neck.
"This bird tried to get in to steal your food," Farmer Brown boomed. "There is not enough of the good, rich feed for wild turkeys and prize white turkeys. This yard is full."
The white turkeys nodded and agreed, although they were a little shocked to see a turkey shot dead. They agreed it was unfortunate but necessary. Farmer Brown had acted for their benefit.
Through the gate on the goat pen side, the goats watched the events.
Brooks waddled over to where Delphi the goat was standing. Brooks was getting fatter and broader and moved with some effort.
"Farmer Brown does protect us," Brooks told the goat.
"Well," said the goat. "He does kill turkeys."
"A wild, brown, dark turkey," Brooks objected. "Who was trespassing."
"He can't sell wild turkey meat," Delphi noted. "He doesn't want to waste his feed on them."
..........By the following day and two more bountiful feedings, the white turkeys came to the unanimous conclusion that the killing of the brown turkey was warranted. The brown turkey had brought it upon himself and if more brown turkeys came and then suffered a similar fate that would be justified. Farmer Brown was indeed an indispensable and powerful protector.....
ReplyDeleteTo be continued....
Maud
.....As the days grew increasingly warmer, the white turkeys grew increasingly fatter and slower. So slow in fact, they had great difficulty getting out of the way of Farmer Brown and his farm hands when they walked through the enclosure at feeding time. One particularly hot and humid day in late August, Farmer Brown entered the large turkey pen for the evening feeding. Beads of sweat dropped from his forehead and he angrily swatted the flies that buzzed his ears. When he turned to leave, the white turkeys had yet to clear a path for him and instead milled about, sedated by the heat. What happened next woke them from their stupor. Farmer Brown, in a cursing, red faced rage, began to kick the birds out of his way with his muck covered, steel toed boots. The assault was sudden, unexpected and painful and he left in his wake a trail of shocked and injured birds. The rest of the flock looked on in horror and disbelief. At that moment the hedgehog appeared at the corner of the pen and shouted "He's going to kill you all and take the money"...and then he was gone...
ReplyDeleteto be continued...
Maud
Ms. Maud,
ReplyDeleteLove it!
But you have not mentioned the two or three birds (Sean, Rush, Rupert) who have been hopping up on buckets and bales and telling the turkeys why Farmer Brown is so great and why the wild turkeys are such an infestation.
We need to hear more about this network of Farmer Brown supporters. I'm not sure the name, but, given the acoustics, I don't think they are called "Fox News." (Coyote News and Fisher Cat News are also non starters.)
Phantom