Rensselaer Republican, Volume 16, Number 14, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 13 December 1883 — A Feathered Shepherd. [ARTICLE]

A Feathered Shepherd.

In South America there is a very beautiful bird called the agimi, or the golden-breasted trumpeter. It is about as large in the body as one of our common barn-yard fowl, but as it hiys longer legs and a longer neck it seems much larger. Its general color is black, but the plumage on the breast is beautiful beyond description, being what might be called iridescent, changing, as it continually does, from a steelblue to a red-gold, and glittering with a metallic luster. In its wild state the agami is not peculiar for anything but its beauty, its extraordinary cry, which has given it the name of trumpeter, and for an odd habit of leaping with comical antics into the air, apparently for its own amusement. When tamed, however,— and it soon learns to abandon its wild ways,—it usually conceives a violent attachment for its master, and, though very jealous of his affection, endeavdrs to please him by a solicitude for the well-being of all that belongs to him, which may fairly be termed benevolence. • It is never shut up at night as the other fowls are, but, with a well-de-served liberty, is permitted to take up its quarters where it pleases. In the morning it drives the ducks to the water and the chickens to their feeding ground; and if any should presume to wander, they are quickly brought to a sense of duty by a sharp reminder from the strong beak of the vigilant agami. At night, the faithful guardian drives its charge home again. Sometimes it is given the care of a flock of sheep; and, though it may seem too puny for such a task, it is in fact quite equal to it. The misguided sheep that tries to trifle with the agami soon has cause to repent the experiment; for, with a swiftness unrivaled by any dog, the feathered shepherd darts after the runaway, and with wings and beak drives it back to its place, not forgetting to impress upon the offender a sense of its error by pecks with its beak Should a dog think to take advantage of the seemingly unguarded condition of the sheep and approach them with evil design, the agami makes no hesitation about rushing at him and giving combat. And it must be a good dog that will overcome the brave bird. Indeed, most dogs are so awed, by the fierce onset of the agami, accompanied by its strange cries, that they incontinently turn about and run, fortunate if they escape unwounded from the indignant creature. At meal times it walks into the house and takes its position near its master, seeming to ask for his caresses. It will not permit the presence of any other pet in the room, and even resents the intrusion of any servants not belonging there, driving out all others before it will be contented. Like a well-bred dog, it does not clamor for food, but waits with dignity until its wants have been satisfied.— 1 Vill Woodman, in St. Nicholas.