Not only by his speed is the ostrich able to baffle many an enemy, the strength of his legs also serves him as an excellent means of defence; and many a panther or wild dog coming within reach of his foot has had reason to repent of its temerity. But in spite of the rapidity of his flight, during which he frequently flings large stones backwards with his foot, and in spite of his strength, he is frequently obliged to succumb to man, who knows how to hunt him in various ways.
Unsuspicious of evil, a troop of ostriches wanders through the plain, the monotony of which is only relieved here and there by a clump of palms, a patch of candelabra-shaped tree-euphorbias, or a vast and solitary baobab. Some leisurely feed on the sprouts of the acacias, or the hard leaves of the mimosas, others agitate their wings and ventilate the delicate plumage, the possession of which is soon to prove so fatal to them. No other bird is seen in their company—for no other bird leads a life like theirs; but the zebra and the antelope are fond of associating with the ostrich, desirous perhaps of benefiting by the sharpness of his eye, which is capable of discerning danger at the utmost verge of the horizon. But in spite of its vigilance, misfortunes are already gathering round the troop, for the Bedouin has spied them out, and encircles them with a ring of his fleetest coursers. In vain the ostrich seeks to escape. One rider drives him along to the next, the circle gradually grows narrower and narrower, and, finally, the exhausted bird sinks upon the ground, and receives the death-blow with stoical resignation.
To surprise the cautious seal the northern Eskimo puts on a skin of the animal, and imitating its motions mixes among the unsuspicious herd; and, in South Africa, we find the Bushman resort to a similar stratagem to outwit the ostrich. He forms a kind of saddle-shaped cushion, and covers it over with feathers, so as to resemble the bird. The head and neck of an ostrich are stuffed, and a small rod introduced. Preparing for the chase, he whitens his black legs with any substance he can procure, places the saddle on his shoulders, takes the bottom part of the neck in his right hand, and his bow and poisoned arrows in his left. Under this mask he mimics the ostrich to perfection, picks away at the verdure, turns his head as if keeping a sharp look out, shakes his feathers, now walks, and then trots, till he gets within bow-shot, and when the flock runs, from one receiving an arrow, he runs too. Sometimes, however, it happens that some wary old bird suspects the cheat, and endeavours to get near the intruder, who then tries to get out of the way, and to prevent the bird from catching his scent, which would at once break the spell.
The ostrich generally passes for a very stupid animal, yet to protect its young it has recourse to the same stratagems which we admire in the plover, the oyster-catcher,[35] and several other strand-birds. Thus Professor Thunberg relates that riding past a place where a hen-ostrich sat on her nest, the bird sprang up and pursued him, in order to draw off his attention from her young ones or her eggs. Every time the traveller turned his horse toward her, she retreated ten or twelve paces, but as soon as he rode on, pursued him again.
The instinct of the ostrich in providing food for its young is no less remarkable, for it is now proved that this bird, far from leaving its eggs, like a cold-blooded reptile, to be vivified by the sun, as was formerly supposed, not only hatches them with the greatest care, but even reserves a certain portion of eggs to provide the young with nourishment when they first burst into life: a wonderful provision, when we consider how difficult it would be for the brood to find any other adequate food in its sterile haunts. In Senegal, where the heat is extreme, the ostrich, it is said, sits at night only upon those eggs which are to be rendered fertile, but in extratropical Africa, where the sun has less power, the mother remains constant in her attentions to the eggs both day and night.
The number of eggs which the ostrich usually sits upon is ten; but the Hottentots, who are very fond of them, upon discovering a nest, seize fitting opportunities to remove one or two at a time; this induces the bird to deposit more, and in this manner she has been known, like the domestic hen, to lay between forty and fifty in a season.
Almost as soon as the chicks of the ostrich (which are about the size of pullets) have escaped from the shell, they are able to walk about and to follow the mother, on whom they are dependent for a long time. And here again we find a wonderful provision of nature in providing the young of the ostrich with a colour and a covering admirably suited to the localities they frequent. The colour is a kind of pepper and salt, agreeing well with the sand and gravel of the plains, which they are in the habit of traversing, so that you have the greatest difficulty in discerning the chicks even when crouching under your very eyes. The covering is neither down nor feathers, but a kind of prickly stubble, which no doubt is an excellent protection against injury from the gravel and the stunted vegetation amongst which they dwell.
The ostrich resembles in many respects the quadrupeds, and particularly the camel, so that it may almost be said to fill up the chasm which separates the mammalia from the birds, and to form a connecting link between them. Both the ostrich and the dromedary have warty excrescences on the breast upon which they lean whilst reposing, an almost similarly formed foot, the same muscular neck; and when we consider that they both feed upon the most stunted herbage, and are capable of supporting thirst for an incredibly long time, being, in fact, both equally well formed for living on the arid plains, it is certainly not to be wondered at that the ancients gave the ostrich a name betokening this similitude (Struthio camelus), and that the fancy of the Arabs ascribes its original parentage to a bird and to a dromedary.
It is difficult to ascertain what the tastes of the ostrich may be while roaming the desert, but when in captivity no other bird or animal shows less nicety in the choice of its food, as it swallows with avidity stones, pieces of wood and iron, spoons, knives, and other articles of equally light digestion that may be presented to it. ‘Nothing,’ says Methuen, speaking of a domesticated ostrich, ‘disturbed its digestion—dyspepsia (happy thing) was undreamt of in its philosophy. One day a Muscovy-duck brought a promising race of ducklings into the world, and with maternal pride conducted them forth into the yard. Up with solemn and measured stride walked the ostrich, and, wearing the most mild and benignant cast of face, swallowed them all, one after the other, like so many oysters, regarding the indignant hissings and bristling plumage of the hapless mother with stoical indifference.’
The costly white plumes of the ostrich, which are chiefly obtained from the wings, have been prized in all ages for the elegance of their long, waving, loose, and flexible barbs. From seventy to ninety feathers go to the pound; but a single bird seldom furnishes more than a dozen, as many of them are spoilt by trailing or some other accident. The vagrant tribes of the Sahara sell their ostrich plumes to the caravans which annually cross the desert, and convey them to the ports of the Mediterranean. Here they were purchased as far back as the twelfth or thirteenth century, by the Pisanese or Genoese merchants, through whose agency they ultimately crossed the Alps to decorate the stately Burggräfinnen of the Rhine, or the wives of the opulent traders of Augsburg or Nuremberg. At a still more remote period the Phœnicians brought ostrich-feathers from Ophir to Tyre, whence they were distributed among the princes of the Eastern world.