We were thrilled yesterday–seriously doing a happy dance–when we caught our guineas laying their eggs out in the woods behind our pasture.  They’d chosen a very nice spot, one we’d missed when doing egg search walkabouts.

But, there they were.  Eleven eggs, tucked into a hollow between two trees and protected by brambles.  The brambles especially were a very good idea, as my scraped up arms can tell you.

Aren’t they gorgeous?  After collecting one egg a day–if that–and turning away a half dozen wannabe guinea owners cause we didn’t have enough keets, it was such a triumph to find an overflowing nest!

But we knew better than to just collect the eggs.  Guinea hens are notorious for abandoning a nest they’ve seen you near, or where you’ve collected.  So we copied the burglaring Indiana Jones routine and swapped clay eggs for their real ones when they weren’t looking.

Pretty good clay eggs, eh?  Well…they’re a bit lumpy, not exactly symmetrical and they probably stink of paint.  But, they’re egg-ish!  And the guineas thought so, too.  We spotted them out by the nest in the afternoon, and there were already two new eggs in the hollow.  Success!

Or, not.

This was what the nest looked like when I came back later to collect.  Those three little white spheres are not eggs–oh, no.  Those are golf balls.  I slipped a few of those into the nest, as well, just to fill it out.  And apparently they didn’t pass muster.  The guineas have moved their eggs and egg-laying selves–including my clay ones–to a new and as yet undisclosed location.  All my tramping through the woods couldn’t turn it up, and neither could the troops I called in for reinforcement.

And if, by any chance, it was not the guineas who did the moving and was instead a predator, I have only one thing to say.  I hope you choke on it!

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