Part 2
Boxes of clean, dry soil are placed in sunny spots in the house, to encourage the birds to take the dust baths in which they delight. Hens, having no teeth with which to chew their food, are dependent on grit to perform the office of mastication after the food has passed into the bird’s gizzard, where a sort of grinding process takes place, which reduces hard corn to a digestible compound. Being near a stone crusher, we buy the fine gravel by the load. Those not so fortunately situated will find a specially prepared mixture at any poultry-supply store, or the small flock can be supplied by smashing broken crockery and glass into pieces about the size of hemp seed. Oyster shell is a very poor substitute for grit, its value being the lime it supplies for the formation of shell.
Fowls are better off kept in yards; in fact, they must be so restrained if the highest egg records are to be reached. In way back times, it was considered a great detriment to yard fowls, but for some years past professional poultry-keepers have yarded their fowls, because they found it was the only way to reach the top notch. Even now the general farmers still adhere to the free range idea, and I am convinced that it is not purely because they think it necessary, but it saves feed and other bother. It has been estimated that a flock of common dunghill hens, such as are seen in the average farm, lay in a year less than a hundred eggs each. The figures are eighty to ninety. Farmers who have become breeders, and who thus give the hen decidedly more consideration, and still adhere to the free range system, have increased this yield to one hundred and fifty and better. Breeders who have followed the strictly up-to-date methods, and have yarded their layers, have obtained an average of one hundred and seventy-five eggs, and some have even reached the two hundred mark.
Please note that I say fowls or hens, and I do not mean this to include growing chicks. The line must be distinctly drawn between the two. The range cannot be too extended for growing stock. What we strive for in growing chicks is frame, on which later we intend to put flesh. This frame can only be built by food, and plenty of it, converted into bone and muscle by exercise. After the chick has made the frame, we can safely yard her and put on the flesh, and thus convert her into a money-earning machine.
The advantages gained by yarding stock are manifold. First of all, by confining stock to a certain space, we are sure they eat the food provided and in the quantity we mean them to have. Feeding layers to produce eggs is becoming every year a more delicate operation. Formula after formula is tried by different breeders, as an experiment, with the hope of increasing the egg yield. If we can force each hen to lay ten a year more, it means a considerable increase of the total of the flock, and a better return in dollars and cents to the breeder. Yarding stock is a means toward this end. The food fed is converted, as we mean it to be, into eggs, and not into muscle. It is decidedly more troublesome to care for stock in this way, and necessitates additional labour and expense, but we are looking for the increase all the time, and are thus continually hoping to be compensated for the extra trouble.
Fowls in yards must be supplied with everything they require, which means, all they would naturally seek if running at large. This includes, besides the grain we feed by formula, green food, meat, a scratching place and dusting spot, and grit and water. Of all these I consider green food the most necessary, and the one thing to be impressed upon the mind, because it is the one thing too often forgotten. Green food of any variety is acceptable. The ideal yarding of fowls is what is known as double yarding--a house in the middle and a yard on each side. These yards can be sown with rye or oats, and alternated so that the fowls will have a constant green run as long as the rye or oats will grow, which is until frost. Failing the double yard system, green food may be supplied by lawn clippings, whole cabbage, clover hay or sprouted oats, fed in a variety of ways. Turning up the ground of the yards with a cultivator or by shallow ploughing, will bring the worms and bugs within reach, or sheep heads cut open and fed raw can be thrown in, and this is an ideal meat food. Ground beef scraps may be mixed in mash--and last, and probably the best, cut green bone.
Yarded fowls need exercise. It must not be understood that because they are confined they do not get exercise, or as much as if let run at large. The yards should be at least one hundred and fifty feet long, if they are the width of the average coop, which is ten to twelve feet. Some breeds are decidedly more active by nature than others; for instance, the Leghorns as compared to the Cochins or Brahmas. This does not affect the health of the fowls particularly. A Leghorn is no healthier because of her activity than a Cochin is. It is simply the difference in their natures, but because of this excess of activity of one breed over another, the one must have more room than the other. The Leghorn stands the confinement of a coop ten by twelve feet in winter, provided she can be kept actively hunting for her food; but the same bird would mope and become out of condition if confined too long in an exhibition coop in a show room. On the other hand, a Cochin, being of a lazier nature, forages slowly, and wanders quietly over her yard, takes things easy in the winter coop, and stands the confinement of the exhibition coop excellently.
The foraging nature of any breed can be killed by excessive feeding. Even birds with free range, if overfed at special meal hours, will take but limited exercise, exactly as those treated the same way and yarded. Exercise is induced by short feeding. In other words, no laying strain should be fed all they can eat except at night. Hunger induces exercise, whether a fowl be let run or yarded. Therefore, fowls fed short and induced to hunt for more, will lay eggs, while those overfed, in the morning especially, will sit around moping in the sun, and convert the food into flesh instead of eggs.
Another advantage of yarded fowls is the certainty of finding all the eggs laid every day, and then being able to guarantee them as strictly fresh. This is a point of great importance, and constitutes the difference between eggs produced by an up-to-date breeder with yarded fowls, and those sold by the “honest” farmer who collects them wherever found, and cannot swear that they were laid to-day, not two weeks ago.
The wise poultry keeper will not delay getting things in order for the breeding season. New blood is necessary to keep up the vigour of the flock. Buy the best male bird you can afford. The rooster is more than half the flock. A good bird will grade up young stock next spring. Remember even if you have pretty good birds of your own rearing, there is danger in inbreeding for more than one season.
Select only the largest, brightest hens for the breeding pens. Reject any which have shown signs of illness at any time of their lives. The eggs are the main point; only the best layers should be selected. From seven to twelve birds are enough for one flock. If you haven’t the coops, or a long house divided into compartments with accompanying yards, and can’t divide your birds into small flocks, adopt the alternating plan. Keep several male birds in a house and yard separated from the hens, and let only one run with the hens at a time, alternating them every day or every week, according to the number of hens. For example, if I were compelled to keep fifty hens in one flock, I would keep seven male birds, and let each one in turn run one day with the flock, rather than allow three or four birds to remain with the flock all the time.
Now is the time to overhaul things. There is no opportunity when spring comes, for then there is always a rush, and you will bring trouble on yourself by using coops which haven’t been properly cleaned, or which have no fastenings, or have broken hinges or leaks in the roof. The boys want something to amuse them during the winter evenings; get them interested in showing off their mechanical skill by making feed-hoppers and drinking-fountains. Self-feeding hoppers save a great deal of food, especially round brood coops. They prevent the grain being spilled or trampled into the ground or spoiled by thunder showers.
The brand of tea which we use in the house comes in square pound tins, and these we convert into self-feeders by cutting out two inches of the front an inch from the bottom, and fitting a sloping false bottom inside. Any handy boy can look at the picture of a self-feeder in a catalogue, and make one that will be just as serviceable. Pound baking powder cans can have a hole the size of a pea cut about an inch from the top, and when filled with water and turned upside down in a two-inch tin pan make capital little drinking-fountains for brood coops, and cost only five cents for the dish, so there is no excuse for not having plenty of them, and they save chicks getting drowned or the water getting defiled, which is usually the case when open dishes are used. Having all the little things ready and in order counts for a lot in the spring, when everyone has more work than he can comfortably do.
At least two-thirds of the letters I receive are about “mysterious” cases, nearly all of which are due to the presence of vermin in the houses. Most of the women who write seem to be horrified when they find their hens infested by such pests, but my experience has been that it is the nicely-kept, presumably clean, house and flock which is apt to be the worst. Why, is a puzzle, unless it is that women are apt to keep their fowls’ home so tidily clean that one never thinks of hidden troubles, and for that reason the house and flock are never drastically attacked, as they should be, with eradicators and preventives. And, naturally, the hidden pests multiply undisturbed, and infest the whole place before their presence is suspected.
Few people know that there are any number and variety of pests which are difficult to discover because of other secretive habits. For instance, there is the depluming scab mite, which is a very minute, vicious pest, that often causes hens to be accused of feather-pulling, when in reality the poor things are only trying to rid themselves of intruders who cause them positive torture. When a bird is noticed to have bare places on neck or back or body it is well to catch it and pull out one of its feathers near the bare spot. Ten to one you will find a scaly collection near a quill. Rub it off on to a sheet of paper, and examine it under a magnifying glass, and you will discover that every grain that looked like dandruff is a living mite. Another tiny atom, which buries itself under the skin of fowls’ legs, causes itself to be known as “scaly legs.” Many of the mysterious deaths can be traced to another variety of the same family which attacks the air-passages of the bird’s throat, and occasionally reaches the lungs. The affected bird gets drowsy, mopes about for a few days, and at last dies from suffocation, and people wonder what has been the trouble. Then there are three varieties of fleas, so dark in colour that they look almost black, which live in the soil, or in cracks and crevices of the poultry houses, and sally forth when hungry to feed on the poor defenceless hen. One species of these crawls, instead of hopping like the ordinary flea, so people frequently make the mistake of thinking that it is a plant insect which will not molest poultry. It is all these unsuspected visitors which attack poultry at night, rob them of their vitality, and the poultryman of much of his profits.
Long ago, when I first started my poultry plant, I found a recipe for liquid louse exterminator and a worm powder published in some magazine recommended by Dr. P. T. L. Woods, the great poultry expert. The liquid is easily made, and very cheap. Dissolve crude naphtha flakes in kerosene oil. Mothaline and naphtha camphor are two preparations put up in packages, which can be bought at any drug store, and would do as well as the flakes, if you have any difficulty in getting them. A Boston firm puts up a preparation with aromatic naphthalens and camphor, in packages which cost twenty-five cents, and is very good. One package dissolved in two gallons of kerosene makes a good mixture to spray house, nests and roosts. For the birds themselves, paint the inside of a box with the liquid, and keep a bird in it for from fifteen to twenty minutes. I had a box made with a compartment one foot square, so that we could treat six birds at one time. Near the top of each compartment there is a hole large enough for the bird to put his head through, and outside we put a trough which is slightly raised from the ground, so that the birds can just reach the contents. Fill it with small grain, and they keep busy most of the time, which insures their not being smothered, and their necks passing through the hole prevents the fume of the wash escaping too rapidly. Of course, someone must remain and watch the birds all the time; otherwise there is the danger of the bird pulling its head in and being suffocated. To be sure that the bird is perfectly clean, fumigation should be repeated three times, with an interval of three days after each. If houses are kept clean and all new birds are thoroughly fumigated before they are turned into the flock, it will not be necessary to attack the whole flock more than once or twice a year. Nests for setting hens are always swabbed out with the mixture, and brood coops get a dose once a week. As soon as any hen shows signs of getting broody, she is dredged with powder, which is well rubbed down into the “fluff” of the feathers; then on the tenth and nineteenth days she is again well powdered, and from the time the chicks are a week old she receives a dose of powder once a week as long as she broods them. The recipe for the insect powder is as follows:
To one peck of freshly slaked lime add half an ounce of carbolic acid. Mix very thoroughly, and add same quantity, in bulk, of tobacco dust. Another powder recommended by Dr. Woods in the same article, and which I have used very frequently, is made by mixing equal parts of finely-sifted coal ashes and tobacco dust, then moisten the whole with the liquid louse exterminator. Allow it to dry and it is ready for use. When purchasing carbolic acid, ask for ninety per cent. strength, otherwise they are very likely to give you a much weaker preparation, fit only for medical use.
THE SITTING HEN AND THE INCUBATOR
Looking back over the memories of my farm initiation, it seems as if I had not fully realised the possibilities of my new undertaking until the first incubator was inaugurated. As I have already told you, I did all the first year’s hatch under hens, and still set every hen that evinces any desire to assume the cares of motherhood, because it seems Nature’s plan to keep the egg machine in good working order. If a broody hen is not allowed to sit, it takes several days of incarceration to break up her desire, then several days more after she is freed before she commences to lay, and invariably the sitting fever will attack her again within a few weeks. Now, incubation takes only three weeks; brooding of chicks, another four or six weeks, and Mrs. Biddy has had a complete rest, followed by vigorous exercise while scratching for her babies. So when she is returned to the yard she is in perfect condition to produce eggs. Let Biddy sit whenever she wants to, but don’t wait her pleasure in the early spring, for you might have no young chickens to sell when they bring good prices.
THE SELECTION OF THE INCUBATOR
There are a great many incubators on the market, some heated by hot air, others by hot water. If you select any one of the standard makes advertised you will get a good, practical hatcher. Printed instructions for setting up and running are sent out with every machine, but they don’t emphasise all the important points quite strongly enough for amateurs. Lots of people can’t drive a screw home accurately, and fail to realise that if the head is slightly to the right or left it throws the fixture which is being attached to the machine out of plumb, and a hair’s breadth makes a difference when such delicate appliances as thermostatic rods (the power which controls the heat), are concerned. A blunder supplies much knowledge. I should never have realised the necessity for absolute exactness if one of the screws used in attaching the lamp support to our second incubator had not gone slightly awry. It caused the chimney almost to touch one side of the socket into which it fits. That, in turn, drew the flame to one side, and caused it to smoke at night when turned up for extra heat. It was a very little blunder, apparently, but it almost spoiled the incubator, and quite spoiled the hatch.
To be sure that the incubator fixtures are plumb, use a spirit level, the only safe guide. After starting the machine, practise running it for a few days before putting in the eggs. When the heat reaches one hundred and two and one-half degrees, with the escape dial hanging the width of a match from the opening, put in the trays, which, being cold, will lower the heat, and should close the dial until the trays become warm, and the thermometer in the machine again registers one hundred and two and one-half, when the dial should once more be dangling the match width above the opening. Should the closing and opening not take place as the heat varies, the machine is not properly adjusted, and you must practise until it will bear the test before putting in the eggs.
The thermometers are supposed to have been tested before they are shipped, but it is well to buy an extra one and compare them; or get your doctor, who is sure to have an accurate thermometer, to do it for you. The egg tester comes with the incubator. It is a tin, funnel-like chimney that fits over the lamp, and has a projecting opening, bordered with black, before which to hold the eggs. The first test should be made on the seventh day; the second on the fifteenth day. Hold the egg, large end uppermost, in front of the opening. If it looks perfectly clear it is infertile and can be used to feed young chicks. If it shows a dark-red spot with spidery legs it is fertile, and must be returned to the incubator. Dead germs are rarely discernible at the first testing, except to the expert eye. By the fifteenth, the veriest amateur will be able to detect them.
Successful incubation depends principally on being able to maintain the amount of heat and moisture necessary at the different stages of development. A thermometer is furnished with most incubators, but as yet hygrometers are not, so it is advisable to buy one. For as they only cost $1.50 each, it would be pennywise and pound-foolish to do without one. Having these two little instruments to tell exactly the amount of heat and moisture present in the machine, simplifies the work wonderfully.
Personally, I like to have the thermometer register 102 degrees, and the hygrometer 75, when I first put the eggs in the incubator. The second week, the heat is increased to 102½, and the moisture lowered to 70 degrees. The third week, heat from 102½ to 103; moisture not over 45 until the nineteenth day, when the moisture is again increased to 55 or 60 degrees.
The reason for such fluctuation in the moisture may need some explanation. During the first stages of incubation it is necessary to prevent the escape of the water which is part of the egg, as it is needed to keep the albumen in the right condition for the development of the germ. After the tenth day, when the embryo is formed, the water should be gradually allowed to evaporate, so that the amount of air inside the shell increases, as it is needed to aid the circulation of the blood and permit the growth of the chick. Increasing the moisture again on the nineteenth day is simply done to soften the inside skin of the egg and make it easy for the chick to break through.
When extra moisture is to be supplied, place a pan of wet sand or a damp sponge in the bottom of the incubator. If the machine is standing in a very damp cellar, the difficulty is often to keep down the moisture rather than to increase it.
In this case, keep the trays out of the machine for a greater length of time when you turn the eggs each day, and open the ventilators. Probably the safest and simplest way to learn how to gauge this important point of moisture, is to set a hen at the same time that you start the incubator, and then compare the development of the air-cell in the egg every few days. If the development is too slow, open the ventilators at the side of the incubator wider, and air the eggs a little longer each day when you have the trays out to turn the eggs. Reverse affairs if the development is too quick. It is better to run the machine a degree or two above the given temperature than below it, especially during the last few days.
After the morning of the twentieth day don’t open the incubator until the hatch is over, or until late on the twenty-second day, and don’t get nervous if the temperature runs to one hundred and four or even to one hundred and five; it is caused by the animal heat of the chicks, and will do them no harm. Turning down the lamp slightly will of course reduce the heat; but be very careful not to let it run below one hundred and three during the last twenty-four hours. Low temperature prolongs the hatch, weakens the chickens and makes them susceptible to all sorts of ailments.
Individual outdoor brooders I think are the best, for in very cold weather they can stand in a light outhouse. I used to monopolise the summer kitchen from February to April, and then have them placed out in the orchard. Placing an outdoor brooder under cover is really only for the convenience of the attendant, for they are storm proof. If you commence with an incubator that holds one hundred and twenty to one hundred and sixty eggs you will require two brooders, and if in a cold or Northern locality, some small house which can be warmed during very cold weather, if you propose commencing to incubate in January. A brooder supposed to hold one hundred chickens will accommodate that number comfortably for about nine days, after which not more than fifty should be kept in it. Hence the necessity for two brooders. When the chicks are six weeks old in cold weather, and four weeks old in moderate weather, they can be removed to the small house (the temperature of which should be kept at sixty degrees during the night). Remember, incubation takes only twenty-one days, so you must allow at least three weeks to elapse before starting the incubator a second time.
Give the brooder a good coat of whitewash inside before using it. Cover the drum which furnishes the heat under the hover with two or three thicknesses of flannel, to make it soft for the little bodies to cuddle up against. Cover the floor of the hover compartment with a piece of old carpet or felt, and the outside compartment with sweepings from the haymow. Have the heat running steadily at ninety-five degrees for several hours before the chicks are to be put into it, and keep it at that heat the first seven or eight days. Then gradually let it fall to seventy-five degrees. Of course, I mean the heat under the hover. The rest of the brooder will be--and should be--several degrees lower.
THE CARE OF THE CHICKS IN THE BROODER
Keep fresh water in vessels into which the chicks can get only their bills in the outer compartment. Never neglect seeing that they are all safely cuddled up to the heat at dusk.