The "Double Crib Barn" consisted of two cribs separated by a breezeway and covered by the same roof. The breezeway, which essentially acted as a driveway which entered the barn was often used for the grain or hay trucks, to protect them from the rain.
This barn was just south of the house as you drove up the long drive. Our Prairie house was situated on the top of the hill and the view to the west was awesome! Prairie as far as you could see! With no fence around it as it was just a hay meadow.
As I remember, the cribs were separated by a drive thru and had a slanted roof going down from the east and west end of the barn. The wall, and door boards were spaced apart to allow air to flow through the crib to help dry the corn still on the cob. Now, farmers have expensive metal silos with equipment to circulate and dry corn that is already shelled before it goes into the silo. So many things have changed since those days and these memories just bring back the smell of corn, hay, and wood in the barn that will always be a part of my lifetime experiences.
Morris’s aunt and uncle, Carl and Elda Buchanan lived just east of Pittsburg, KS, which was about 10 miles from us. Carl had worked for Dickey Clay in Pittsburg where they made clay pipes. They closed down and that left Carl without a job. Fortunately he found a job in Kansas City, with Fairbanks and Morris Co, a foundry, but that would mean they would have to move up there.
They had about two dozen hens and a couple of roosters that they brought over and let us keep for them while they lived in Kansas City temporarily. It looked like the west side of this old crib barn had been used as a hen house, as there were nests built along the side (wooden boxes with a filling of hay) and some roosts in thereas well, and we released the chickens there and shut the door until they become accustom to their new home. Later we let them roam in the large yard that was just a part of the prairie that had been fenced off. This had not been mowed until haying season when the guys had the mower on the tractor. So it was usually only mowed one a year!
Along about sunset the chickens would all come back to their hen house and fly to the roost for the night. We would then go out and close the door so the coyotes and foxes could not get them.
Their natural instinct is to scratch around in the dead leaves and twigs in the grass looking for bugs. They also are partial to quite a lot of greenery. They also would find themselves somewhere where they could have a dust bath. They would find a patch of dry earth, and wriggle around until it was all through their feathers. They seem to know that it would clog the pores of the mites in their feathers, and get rid of them.
The next spring some of the hens began to roam out in the field and make a nest for brooding. It was always amazing to me that they managed to brood those eggs without a fox or coyote making a meal out of them!
Wild chickens are forest animals. They live in small groups called flocks. They scratch in the dirt and forage for things to eat. While one hen sits on the nest to lay, the group may wander away through the undergrowth searching for food. The hen's cackle serves to renew the contact with the group as if to yell "where are you?". The cock (with the other hens) answers "here we are!". This was like music to me... for a while!
A mother hen enjoys lovingly teaching and nurturing her baby chicks. The chicks find sweet comfort under the shelter of mom’s wings and mother hen takes great pleasure in her wise and protective role. A mother hen will do everything in her power to protect her biddies. It’s her instinct. Call it chicken love if you will, but the hen is hardwired to protect them.
It was a delight to see one of the hens bring her brood of little fluffy chicks up to the hen house. Her wings stretched to her side and those little heads peaking out as they walked along protected by Mothers wings.
One of the roosters loved to crow at the break of dawn! Morris usually was up and down at the barn to milk the cows early, then he would come up to the house and I was to have his breakfast cooked so he could go of to the field or whatever he and Uncle John had planned for the day.
I loved to sleep in! And if the babies would stay asleep I would too! But that darn Rooster seemed to have it in for me! He would come up right under our bedroom window and crow his loudest!
This made me so angry that I would go out on the back porch in my gown and throw whatever I could get my hands on at him! Of course I never could hit him. He would strut away like he was king of the Prairie and join his Harem of Hens as if he had accomplished his days work!!!
We named him Dormeyer, after the name of a fine heavy duty electric mixer…you know …an egg beater???
It was Dormeyer’s delight to catch me in the outhouse and try to attack me with the long sharp spurs he had growing on his legs just above his feet, as I was leaving! He because so aggressive that I feared he would attack one of boys. Morris’s Mom laughed and said, “Oh! He couldn’t be all that bad!” One old Rooster?” So we decided to give him to her.
It was not long before she became a believer and Dormeyer went to live with the hens down at the Johnston house!
He soon disappeared from there! We never knew if he was caught by a coyote or fox or ahum… met his demise in some other way!
The day that rooster left our Home on the Prairie was a day of celebration for me!
