Turkeys Bring $1,000 a Year

Where Secret of Success is "Love Them"

By Mrs. A.J. Wilder

IT WAS late afternoon at the Wilson Farm and the coolness of the evening was very pleasant after the warmth of the spring day. The cows were lowing on their way to the barn and milking time. Among the other sounds of evening on the farm came a call with a hint of wildness in it—“Turrk! Turrk!” it said. The turkeys were coming up, followed by their little ones scurrying thru the grass, slipping from cover to cover like shadows, but following their mother’s call—“Turrk! Turrk! Turrk!”

“The one that runs in the orchard isn’t there,” said Mrs. Wilson. “I must go hunt her. Make yourself comfortable until I get back,” she called, as she hurried away. But she did not find the stray in the orchard, and some others that ranged along the river did not appear, so down to the river went Mrs. Wilson hunting them. Brother-in-law Jim, riding the little pony, searched in the far meadow. The Airedale puppy broke from his imprisonment in the barn to join in the hunt, and I brought up the rear. I was slow and awkward, unable to keep up with the pup, not used to hunting turkeys, but I did help drive up the strays and feed and pen each flock in its small house. Such pretty, wild little things, and dozens and dozens of them! “Cheep, Cheep, Cheep!” they said, as they pecked at their supper of eggs and cheese spread on boards at the door of each house.

I saw them again just before Thanksgiving. It was noon, this time. “Oh, they’ll come whenever I call them,” Mrs. Wilson said, walking out into the yard with a basket of corn on her arm. She gave her turkey call, which I will not attempt to reproduce, and turkeys materialized where apparently no turkeys had been before. She kept calling, and all the woods seemed alive with turkeys, all flying and running toward her. One hundred eighty-five, she said were there, and I know that, as we say in the vernacular, “the woods was full of ‘em.” It was a pretty sight to see them gather around her, their beautiful bronze feathers glistening in the sun.

Gives Them Attention

Mrs. Wilson’s turkeys know her so well that if they are frightened in the night her voice will quiet them; they will answer when she speaks, and will eat from her hand. And Mrs. Wilson loves her turkeys. When the time comes to kill them she runs and hides to cry while they are being butchered.

It takes time and patience, gentleness and tact, to be successful in raising turkeys. “They are very fond of attention,” said Mrs. Wilson, “and like to be talked to. It makes no difference what you say, just so your tone is quiet and your voice gentle.” Turkeys are nervous, shy, wild things by nature, and Mrs. Wilson treats them accordingly. Sometimes, however, when a turkey is very bad she is punished. I saw Mrs. Wilson switch a quarrelsome mother-turkey to make her stop fussing with her neighbor and go to her crying babies at her own house-door.

Mrs. Wilson began raising turkeys ten years ago with three hens and a tom. Not knowing anything about turkeys, she let them follow their own sweet wills. Consequently, not being worried by being followed about nesthunting, they nested in underbrush near the house. The three hens laid sixty eggs the first clutch, and from these Mrs. Wilson raised 55 to maturity. She was so elated by this success that she confidently set the mark at 200 for the next season.

Eager to find all the eggs from which to raise the 200, she followed her best hen so closely at nesting time that the hen at last became seriously annoyed. The last Mrs. Wilson ever saw of her was when she rose with a spread of her strong wings and flew away into the woods.

Now difficulties multiplied. Crows and black snakes took the eggs; overfeeding killed the poults. At the end of the season Mrs. Wilson had only 85 turkeys, instead of the 200 she had confidently expected to raise. A lesser person would have quite the turkey business right there. But Mrs. Wilson has pluck and perseverance, and it is hard for anyone or any circumstances to beat her. Instead of quitting, she began to learn how to raise turkeys. She learned it well, for the flock I saw gave her $1,005 net profit for the year.

A Disastrous Season

She had a pen made, 20x60 feet, 7 feet high, and covered with poultry netting. By being quiet and gentle with her turkeys she tamed them so that every morning they would follow her into this pen, listening to her voice as she talked to them and eating from her hands. Day after day, Mrs. Wilson enjoyed this early morning visit with her turkeys. Then she went to her other work, while they ranged the fields. At nesting-time she shut them into the pen for an hour every morning. The hen that had made her nest showed it by her uneasiness, and they were so accustomed to her presence that she could let the hen out and by following it cautiously could locate the nest. Thus one by one every turkey was watched until she betrayed her nesting place. Every year since then Mrs. Wilson has used this method of finding the nests. When a nest is found she does not go near until the hen has left it, and no hen is ever shut in the pen after her nest is found, for the less they are bothered the better. If they are made nervous they will change their nest place.

In the hen’s absence her eggs are carefully taken from the nest and given to common hens to hatch, in order to protect them from snakes and crows. The turkey hens are left setting on the nest with just enough eggs to keep them there until the poults are hatched, when they are given to their turkey mothers. Mrs. Wilson has learned from experience that 20 poults are as many as a turkey hen can properly hover after they are three or four weeks old, and that they must be well covered or they may drown if caught out in a hard rain.

How She Feeds Them

For their first feeding, 48 hours after hatching, Mrs. Wilson gives hardboiled eggs chopped very fine; for 20 poults and mother, one egg three times a day. After the first day of feeding, lettuce, dandelion, sow thistle or onion tops, finely chopped are added to the egg. In fine weather, when the poults can run, she feeds the same amount daily for two weeks; if they are kept in the coops she adds a little bread, soaked in sweet milk until it crumbles. When they are two weeks old, and out on range, they are fed twice a day, two eggs at a feed for twenty poults and mother. After this age, Mrs. Wilson sometimes substitutes and equal amount of cottage cheese for the eggs, at one feeding a day, and they are always given plenty of milk. Green food and milk can be given at any time, but the rest of the ration is never exceeded, as there is danger in over-feeding.

The hens are turned out for a few house every find day, but are carefully watched, for when the poults are young the mothers will hide them if possible. The coops, one for each brood, are 3 by 6 feet, 3 ½ feet high in front and 2 ½  feet in back, built of common boarding with shingled roof. The whole front is of screen wire, with a door that slips in and fastens with two buttons. The doorway must be so large that it will not touch the hen as she goes in and out. At night the hens and their broods are shut into these coops, where they are safe from “varmints,” and during bad weather they may be kept in several days. They range as much as possible, however, for Mrs. Wilson finds they grow faster when allowed to run.

Healthy, vigorous parent stock is most important in raising turkeys, Mrs. Wilson says an, and she does not use parent stock under two years old.  For one of her toms she paid $200, and went herself to New York to get it. She counts it a profitable investment, for she sells young toms at $20 each, and eggs for hatching at $10 each. Most of her year’s profit—usually about $1,000—comes however, from the sale of fat turkeys for Christmas dinner tables.

But no investment in money will make success in turkey raising. Only ceaseless expenditure of time, attention and genuine interest in her turkeys has made Mrs. Wilson’s success possible. It is no wonder that confidential relations are established between her and her turkeys, for from the time of hatching they know her care. She as each one in her hands at least once a week while it is young, examining it for lice or signs of sickness; she vaccinates every one of them against blackhead; she makes a pet of each one, and as long as a turkey is on her farm she has it in her arms at least once a month.

Mrs. A.J. Wilder. "Turkeys Bring $1,000 a Year: Where Secret of Success is 'Love Them.'" Missouri Ruralist (February 1, 1924): 26-27. This article contained a photograph of Mrs. C. Wilson.  CLICK HERE and HERE to see this article as it originally appeared in the Missouri Ruralist.

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