Books:

Discovered! 505
Odd Enterprises

Hidden Dollars

How to Make
Money at Home

Small Business
of Your Own

You Can Own
a Business

Not long ago, one evening at sunset, I stood with the Waldens on their back lawn looking into the pheasant pens. It was a beautiful picture. Their gorgeous colors blending in perfect array, the cockerels stood out among their drab, brownish-gray mates. The birds seemed perfectly contented, scratching, gulping their food and gossiping with each other until Walden opened the gate of the surrounding pen and ushered me in.

The birds alerted and, for a moment, stood with bulging eyes on me as if making critical appraisal. Then there was a swirl, a swish and streak of flashing color as they hit for cover. In the sudden silence I asked Mr. Walden, "How did you get started?"

"How?" A smile creasing his face, Walden ran a finger around his shirt collar, and said:

"Guess it goes back to my boyhood days when I used to slip Dad's old shotgun out and follow game by the hour. It's little wonder that this developed into an ambition for fooling with birds, which led directly to an unusual hobby, the rearing of purebred bantams.

"Then in February, 1946, when I was all tied up with them, a former head of the University of Oklahoma voice department, Barre Hill, received a setting of ringneck pheasant eggs from northern friends. Having neither hens nor incubator, he persuaded me to let one of my clucking bantams do a hitch at sitting."

The little hen obliged and did herself proud. After sitting twenty-four days on twelve little eggs, she was the foster mother of seven cockerels and three hens. By the time the babies had opened their little round eyes, Jess Walden was as crazy about them as she was. Since Hill had room for one brace only, it was Walden's good luck to get six cockerels and two hens. That was the spark that started the hobby which has grown into a profitable business.

THE DECISION made, Walden got busy. In a few days he had received four dozen fertile eggs of registered standard ringneck stock from a Shawnee, Oklahoma, dealer. Immediately, a bantam hen that was clucking for eggs, and the bantam incubator were put to work.

As time flew by, Walden delved into pheasant brooder instructions; studied current and back numbers of the magazine Modern Game Breeding, to which he subscribed; read pamphlets and bulletins sent out by the state bureau of game and fish and talked with pheasant fanciers and poultry raisers.

Long before the place really got crowded with chicks, Walden had made a brooder (bassinet to him) patterned after a commercial job he had examined in a local poultry store, and had it set up in a temporary brooder house—his back-yard shop. Now, in new quarters, it is working satisfactorily. Its thirty-inch square, galvanized metal hover, is supported by four strong, ten-inch legs. Stretched between the legs and fastened to them, is a heavy canvas curtain which encloses the space between the bottom of the hover and the heavy platform upon which it stands. This curtain is slitted every few inches in order to allow the chicks to go out and in under it. To keep them warm, a thermostatic-controlled red, electric bulb is attached to the ceiling of the hover. Over the brooder, and resting on the platform, a cage of three-eighths-inch mesh wire prevents juvenile delinquency. The cage has a door large enough to allow one to reach in to feed, water and clean, and also, as Walden learned later, is necessary, to break up little, tight huddles that often circle on the peat moss bed under the light. Baby birds sometimes smother while snuggling to keep warm.

Walden chose the little galvanized steel drinkers available at the local poultry and feed stores for 10 cents each. He had found this type most satisfactory for his bantams. He screwed each gadget onto a Mason jar of clean water, inverted it and placed it under the brooder. Aside from keeping it clean and changing the water two or three times daily, forget it, Walden says. The babies can't drown, as they often do in open, flat containers.

SO WALDEN was prepared when again on the twenty-fourth day baby chicks were wiggling out of tough shells. After they had dried off, Walden lifted them carefully and slipped them under the hover into a temperature of 95 degrees Fahrenheit. Two drinkers of tepid water had already been placed in the brooder. "Remember," Walden warns, "penned birds—young or mature—should have a continuous supply of clean, fresh water." When the chicks were twenty-four hours old, he offered them food in little, flat baby feeders. Since baby pheasants, like their elders, need grit in their craws to aid digestion, he slid a flat pan of fine sand into the brooder.

The first week was a tough one, Walden recalls. But he didn't mind it. In fact, he says he enjoyed it. It had all the thrills of adventure. Usually, loss is high the first week. Walden attributes his low mortality to the fact that he suddenly had become a twenty-four-hour baby sitter, religiously following brooder instructions.

The second week he adjusted the thermostat so that the temperature was 92 degrees Fahrenheit; the third, 88; and the fourth, 85. Thereafter, artificial heat was unnecessary since the temperature of the building was around 75 degrees. The seventh week he turned his chicks out into the open pen.

Once the temperature dropped, as it sometimes does in Oklahoma, so he moved the brooder into the pen, turned on the heat and watched the birds disobey the traffic laws—run toward the red light. For awhile they huddled dangerously, but when they got warm, they raced back into the open.

"This all sounds intricate," Walden asserts, "but it isn't. Just follow brooder instructions and you'll be O.K."

NATURALLY, since they are as wild as March hares when free in the open, pheasants must always be caged. Walden was ready to cope with this phase of his hobby, too. He had built two adult pens which are still in use. The frame of each pen is approximately ten by twelve feet and seven feet high. Each is enclosed—sides and roof—with inch-mesh galvanized wire. Some hobbyists use larger mesh because it is less expensive. However, Walden thinks his choice cheaper in the end, since it bars sparrows, thus cutting the feed bill. Each pen is banded around the base by a strip of twenty-six-inch galvanized sheet iron. This prevents the pheasants picking at the ground outside, thus possibly injuring themselves. Also, not being able to see directly out into the open seems to make them less conscious of captivity and hence, happier. And Walden wants to do all in his power toward their happiness. It seems the contented pheasant is more productive. Don't crowd them, Walden emphasizes.

The floor is of earth. This gives natural footing, scratching space and some grit. A gate permits janitor operation. Although some of the occupants won't condescend to use it, each pen has a roost. Also, each has a water container of the galvanized, top fill, removable pan type which expedites labor; a container for grit, and a long, galvanized steel feeder which has adjustable, heavy wire legs. To prevent waste by scratching, a wire grill is hinged across the top.

After a few days in the open pens, pheasants answer a call of the wild: cannibalism. Walden has learned that this inherent trait is more savage in late flocks than in early flocks. You treat it by segregation.

In segregating, Walden began with breeders. Since they were ringnecks, he put one choice cockerel with five choice pullets. After setting up two pens from his last batch and putting three of the remaining pullets into a pen with the Hill flock's most choice cockerel and two of his little sisters, Walden had twenty-six culls. These he penned together, despite the warning: "Never have more than one cockerel in each pen. They are jealous and will fight."

"That's right," the hobbyist grants. "They will fight. But their jealousy doesn't crop out to speak of until the breeding season. I handled the problem by throwing determined cannibals and bossy birds into solitary confinement. I fattened them and sold them with the culls for table use. I still use that medicine."

The original groups of breeders were kept intact. The next spring, when they were a year old, they mated and the pullets began laying. Again the bantams and a new 400-egg pheasant incubator were pressed into service.

THERE IS no set time of the year, Walden says, to begin raising pheasants. Any time will do, but he prefers a spring or early summer start with fertile eggs. With this start you can begin marketing birds in early fall and continue through November. However, now that he is using his own breeders' eggs, he sets bantams or a section of the incubator whenever he has the goods. Incidentally, eggs may be held fourteen days before setting, if they are stored in a cool place and turned twice a day. Walden has hatched up a new whirling gadget for this purpose. Regarding incubation, Walden says a chicken incubator may be used, but he advises the beginner to purchase a pheasant egg incubator and follow the instructions that come with it.

If, however, you should choose to begin with baby chicks, launch your project in May or June. Some breeders start earlier. Week-to-ten-day old chicks may be purchased for approximately 75 cents each, depending of course, upon pedigree and locality. With proper care, some of the birds will make excellent broilers at ten weeks. However, according to Walden, it will be cash in your pocket to hold them until they have reached fryer size in November. Sell the culls for table use, stock your breeding pens with the prize birds and watch your flock grow during the next year.

Or perhaps you would prefer a late summer and fall start. All right. From a licensed dealer, purchase mature breeding stock—one ringneck cockerel for every five to seven hens; one show bird cockerel for every two hens. The price will vary a great deal with different breeders. But you can shop as Walden does. Look through the classified advertising section of your local papers for names of licensed dealers, or write Modern Game Breeding, 28 West State Street, Doylestown, Pennsylvania, for a list. Pen the breeders together during the winter. If the climate is cold, provide shelter such as you would for domestic fowl. By spring they will be acquainted with each other, with their new home and with their caretaker. If the climate is warm, mating may begin in February; if cold, it will be postponed until warm spring weather.

BY MATING proper ages, Walden says, one can pretty well control the sex of the offspring. Although he has not tested this phase, he has studied reports of the best authorities on the subject. They seem to agree, he states, that a two-or-more-year-old cock mated with one-year-old hens, will produce a great majority of cockerels. On the other hand, a young cock mated with old hens produces a majority of hens. Take your choice.

Walden does not provide nests. Scarcely any would be used, he insists, so why bother? The hens lay here and there on the ground. Since the sun's heat is detrimental to eggs, he gathers them several times daily. Also, this procedure, he thinks, may extend the laying period. Some fanciers say a nest of eggs is likely to cause the hens to think of sitting. Others say they refuse to sit while in captivity.

In Oklahoma, ringnecks begin laying around March 15, and usually lay an egg every other day for a month; during the next six weeks or so, every day; from then into July, eggs gradually dwindle to zero. Many a ringneck lays seventy-five or more eggs in a season. Ornamentals produce less.

Light green in color, the egg is about the size of a small hen's egg, but it has the hard, tough shell of the wild game bird. It is edible, but who, one wonders, would be so extravagant as to eat one? Ringneck eggs retail singly for 25 to 35 cents; 100 for $22 to $25. Ornamentals retail singly from 60 cents on up, up, up, depending largely, Walden asserts, upon location and pedigree.

THERE ARE several kinds of prepared feed in local poultry feed stores. Some breeders use turkey mash but Walden prefers Wild Game Feed. It is divided into Startena, Growena and Breeder Chow. Currently the sale price per hundred pounds, is $6.75, $6.50 and $6.85 respectively, but these prices are subject to change. There is also a grain scratch which is fed after the chicks are put on Growena.

As has already been implied, do not feed baby pheasants, until they are twenty-four hours old. Then put Startena before them in low, open feeders. The babies usually ignore it at first and try to exist on water. To outwit them, Walden sprinkles a layer of feed on the water. The floating movement attracts their attention. They dip into it, get a taste of the Startena and like it.

"Be careful," Walden warns, "as the wet feed soon sours. Eating this will cause indigestion. However, if you change the water two or three times daily, as you should as long as the chicks are under the brooder or in the brooder house, there is little danger. Also, to aid digestion, keep fine sand or grit near the feeders."

After six weeks to two months, provide adult feeders and low, flat, galvanized waterers covered with one-half-inch mesh wire to prevent drowning.

Now change the feed from Startena to Growena. Since a sudden change of feed usually causes indigestion and heavy loss, make the change gradually. As has been said before, with it feed a little baby scratch.

Breeder Chow and heavy grain scratch are started when the birds reach the laying age. All along you have furnished available greens and have kept the pens clean and the waterers and feeders clean and full. The earth floors of the outside pens will usually furnish enough grit.

Some pheasant raisers add cod-liver oil and molasses to the mash in order to increase the vitamins. Walden thinks this is unnecessary with Wild Game Feed. After the second day, keep feed before the birds all the time.

AT FIRST Walden concentrated on ringnecks. Due to his success, his advice to others starting out is: "'Go thou and do likewise.'" Ringnecks are known especially for their tender, palatable meat, always in demand. They have yielded excellent returns.

As time passed, Walden added ornamentals—show birds—to his, hobby. He now has golden, silver and Amherst. These he reveres especially for their beauty. He sells them in trios for breeders, wholesales them, and sets and sells their eggs. As breeders, ornamentals are extremely valuable.

Pointing to a large bronze and white cock, his neck ringed in white, Walden said:

"That's a ringneck. Over there," he continued, pointing to another cock, "is a golden. See?"

I saw. The ringneck looked dull compared with the golden, a bird of gorgeous plumage. "That's the kind one sees in contests with a blue ribbon on its cage," Walden told me. "Because they can be trained to follow you, they often hit Hollywood." He pointed out a silver, a large white-tailed bird, a native of southern China. "In the next pen," he said, "is a trio of Amhersts, my latest addition." Easing back against a post he gave me a bit of interesting history to the effect that the breed was named in honor of Lady Amherst who, while touring northern China, sent a few of the beautiful birds home to England.

"Now, you are looking at the intriguing side of the hobby," Walden said. "The other side is the mechanical and physical job—slavery to some—of keeping the enterprise moving. But I don't mind that part of it one bit. In fact, I find myself plugging away and loving it. Joseph, my fourteen-year-old son, gets a kick out of it too. He's wonderful help.

"We keep 'em clean. Cleanliness helps prevent disease. Don't forget that captive pheasants are more subject to disease than those ranging their natural habitat. Nevertheless, the mortality rate is low in the well-managed flock, a factor which makes pheasant rearing profitable, Of the forty-three hatched of my first batch, two died the first day and forty-one reached maturity." He estimates his entire loss since starting has not exceeded 12 percent.

WALDEN EXPLAINED that he was not primarily interested in financial, profit from his birds when he started, breeding only as a hobby. Consequently, the first year the prize birds were kept for breeders, the culls served on his own table or given to friends and relatives for theirs. He was surprised to learn that these friends and relatives had given him free advertising and that in a short time word of his hobby had leaked out. The local newspaper gave him flattering publicity in a long article with pictures, in a Sunday edition. Walden's pheasants were the talk of the town.

With all this, and the fact that Walden has lived in Norman for twenty-five years and, is widely acquainted, local sales promotion has been the least of his problems. "It's easy to sell pheasants," he says. "After all, this world is hungry for good meat."

Walden made his first sale of table birds to a night club manager who served them at a magnificent banquet during a football season weekend, when the town was buzzing with ball fans. The satisfied customer and his guests were good advertisers. As a result, orders came flowing in from far and near and Walden was on his way without paid advertising.

However, during the laying season and the marketing season months—spring and fall—Walden runs a small advertisement in All-Pets magazine published in Kalamazoo, Michigan. This, he says, has brought him orders from twenty-four states and an inquiry from Mexico.

Walden features the five to five and a half-month-old birds. At this age when in prime condition fully dressed cocks weigh from three to three and a quarter pounds and hens about a pound less. This will vary slightly.

IN NORMAN, pheasant meat is served, by individuals as a delicacy for special occasions; at night clubs, hotels, restaurants and shooting clubs. It is not unusual for Walden to have orders booked six months to a year in advance. If, on rare occasions, he has a surplus of birds ready for sale, he calls one of the above markets. Good-bye pheasants.

He has never sold to dealers for resale.

When an order for table birds comes in, Walden delivers the pheasants to a local hatchery, where they are killed, dressed, drawn, feet removed (heads left on), and put into Cellophane sacks for 20 cents each. Walden delivers the order to the customer. The average sale price is $4 per bird.

High? No. In reality it's not high when you consider that there is much more meat to a pheasant than there is to a chicken of the same poundage. Walden says a chicken loses 46 percent in dressing; a pheasant 16 percent. Most of the pheasant is breast. The bones are light.

Pedigreed breeding stock is in great demand, Walden says. As such, the mature ringneck cockerel retails for $5 up; the hen for about 50 cents less than the male. Golden and silver retail for $25 a trio and up; Amherst, $35 a trio and up, often as high as $65.

ASIDE FROM the sale of meat, eggs and breeders, there are two other possible sources of income, namely: feathers at $1.75 each, and up, with which to adorn ladies' hats, and ornamentals for pets.

To anyone interested in the profit end of pheasants, Walden says: "It is not unusual, after getting off to a good start, to double your investment. A good back yard start with eggs can be made for a relatively small amount. I'll say about $50. However, it's not the capital that counts," he added. "It's the work and the management." He is looking forward to an acreage where he can develop his hobby into a real business.

Regardless of whether the project is a hobby or a business, it must be operated under a license granted by the wild life conservation department of your state. The yearly fee in Oklahoma is $2. There are other rules and regulations. For failure to comply, a fine is imposed. Consequently, it is wise to obtain a copy of the game laws of your state and inform yourself.