Home Life on an Ostrich Farm

In Short

This memoir offers an intimate, spirited window into the realities of nineteenth-century ostrich farming in the Cape Colony of South Africa. Moving from the coastal town of Walmer to the rugged, arid interior of the Karroo, the author details the challenges of building a homestead, contending with temperamental local labor, and navigating the unpredictable climate. By blending practical observations on agriculture with charming anecdotes about a menagerie of pets, the book captures a singular colonial experience. It remains a classic for its vivid sense of place and its unsentimental, observant voice.

The Story

The narrative begins with a voyage from England to the Cape of Good Hope, where the author and her husband, T----, first encounter the lush, tick-ridden common of Walmer. Their initial attempts at farming are modest, focusing on small flocks of ostriches and the constant struggle to keep their unruly, mischievous charges counted. As they move inland to the Karroo, the landscape shifts from coastal greenery to a stark, challenging desert, requiring the couple to adapt to extreme droughts, punishing hot winds, and the architectural limitations of local "ugly" farmhouses.

Much of the tension in the narrative arises from the persistent struggle to maintain a functional home. The author provides a candid, often humorous look at the frustrations of domestic life, particularly regarding the local servants, known as Phillis, whose volatile, transient habits test her patience. Despite these administrative headaches, the author finds genuine beauty in the strange, resilient vegetation of the Karroo and a deep satisfaction in the isolation of the veldt.

The heart of the book lies in the daily life of the farm: the meticulous observation of ostrich breeding habits, the constant repair of clothing torn by thorns, and the care of an ever-growing collection of pets, including a secretary bird, a pugnacious goose, and their constant companion, a dog named Toto. The narrative follows the rhythms of the seasons, from the relief of thunderstorms that "wash them out of bed" to the intense, furnace-like heat of summer that the author claims to paradoxically enjoy.

As the years pass, the couple’s competence grows, yet the inherent precariousness of their enterprise remains. The death of chicks, the unpredictability of the "idiotic" ostrich nature, and the constant threat of drought serve as persistent reminders of the fragility of their success. Eventually, the cycle of their South African life draws to a close. The narrative concludes with their departure for England, leaving behind the small, makeshift homestead at Swaylands. The final scene, marked by a wistful look back at the landscape and a chaotic boarding of a ship with their remaining menagerie, poignantly captures the end of an era, reflecting on the bond forged between the settlers and the harsh, beautiful land they once called home.

How It Unfolds

The voyage begins The author recounts her arrival in the Cape Colony, where her initial curiosity about the local flora and fauna is quickly tempered by the unwelcome reality of coastal ticks. She details the early, fumbling attempts to establish a footing in ostrich farming, highlighting the logistical difficulty of herding and counting a flock of birds that seem intentionally designed to confuse their keepers.

The shift to the interior Relocating to the Karroo, the couple faces the stark, arid beauty of the interior, where the vegetation is thorny and the weather is a force of nature. The author describes the building of their home, the necessity of becoming a "Jack-of-all-trades," and the daily rhythm of managing rations for their workers under the watchful, suspicious eyes of the local laborers.

The life of the farm The middle chapters delve into the complexities of ostriches, documenting their breeding rituals, the spiteful behavior of older birds toward the young, and the occasional, bizarre necessity of "court-martialing" a bird for swallowing a diamond. Interwoven with these agricultural lessons are stories of the couple’s pets, particularly the alcoholic bird Bobby and the adventurous dog Toto, whose exploits provide levity amidst the dust and heat.

The final departure Reflecting on the local colonial character, the author praises the hospitality of the Karroo inhabitants while acknowledging their lack of material comforts. The narrative closes with the decision to leave, chronicling the final preparations and the bittersweet journey back to the coast, leaving the reader with a lasting impression of a life defined by its own strange, rustic logic.

The People

The author serves as the observant, resilient guide through this foreign landscape. She is determined, pragmatic, and possesses a sharp sense of humor, often finding joy in the very weather and surroundings that others find unbearable. Her husband, T----, acts as her partner in the agricultural enterprise, a practical man capable of navigating the difficulties of trade and travel, whether in the Karroo or on his excursions to Australia.

Their servants, collectively referred to as Phillis, are central to the household’s daily friction. They are portrayed as volatile, independent, and notoriously unreliable, constantly leaving without notice or explanation, which forces the author to manage both the farm and the home with little help. The animals, however, are perhaps the most vivid "characters." Bobby, the wine-loving bird, and Toto, the irrepressible dog, possess distinct personalities that the author respects and chronicles as thoroughly as she does her human neighbors. These figures—from the "budding criminal" of a herd boy to the neighborly Boers—all contribute to the author’s portrait of a society where survival depends as much on adaptability and humor as it does on industry.

In Its Own Voice

One day, soon after our arrival, I was much amused by the clumsy antics of a number of fowls, which were continually jumping up and pecking at some cattle grazing near.

The author describes the initial, grotesque discovery of how local birds dealt with the tick problem on livestock.

He would often give a good deal of trouble by flying to the very topmost shelf, from whence it was difficult to dislodge him; and where a chase after him involved climbing over numerous sacks on my part, and much knocking over of bottles and tins on that of Bobby.

This account illustrates the persistent, mischievous nature of their pet bird, whose taste for wine often led to household chaos.

The dazzling sunshine--so soon to be exchanged for cold northern skies--seems brighter than ever; and, in the clear atmosphere of the Karroo, the bold outlines of the far-off Cock's Comb are lifted up, as it were, by a strange effect of mirage.

In the final chapter, the author captures the melancholic, ethereal beauty of the landscape during her final drive toward the coast.

What It's Really About

At its core, the book examines the immigrant experience of imposing order upon a wild, indifferent environment. It raises questions about the definition of "home" in a place that is structurally uncomfortable and environmentally demanding. The author explores the intersection of human industry—the farming of feathers—and the unpredictable, often cruel, logic of nature. There is an underlying argument for the resilience of the colonial spirit, yet the author is quick to point out the absurdity of the settlers' efforts. Ultimately, the book is a study in adaptation, questioning how much of one’s former self must be shed to survive in a place where standard Victorian comforts are not merely luxuries, but impossibilities.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy travel literature that focuses on the domestic and the observational will find much to admire here. The book feels like a long, detailed letter from a sharp-witted friend who has just returned from an extraordinary, if dusty, adventure. You will appreciate the author’s ability to find beauty in "ugly" architecture and her refusal to romanticize the harshness of the Karroo.

It is important, however, to acknowledge the period-typical attitudes toward race and labor that appear throughout the text. The author’s descriptions of her domestic staff and the Kaffir laborers reflect the colonial hierarchies of the 1890s, and a modern reader will need to navigate these perspectives while reading. Despite this, the book remains remarkably fresh because of its focus on the non-human—the ostriches, the plants, and the landscape—which are described with a precision and a sense of wonder that transcends time. You will come away with a vivid, tactile sense of a life lived on the edge of a vast, unforgiving veldt, and you will likely find yourself still thinking about the indomitable spirit of the dog, Toto, long after you have turned the final page.