However they also like laying their eggs in there and no human can squeeze in to collect the eggs if they do. So my husband and his business partner stopped loading their truck and started to help me get them back in the pen.
I watched as they did this by getting large sticks and banging them on the bin at one end to frighten them one way and poking another big stick in the other part of the hedge to block their way of escape. It was all very loud and exuberant.
I watched with my arms folded, an amused smile on my face as they had no luck in persuading the chickens to go in the right direction.
Then I fetched a hot cross bun, told the men (and the sticks) to back off and crumbled the bun into small pieces and threw it on the floor of the chicken pen calling, 'Here chicky, chicky, chick.' Both chickens dashed out of the hedge in a perky, eager manner and ran to the open gate.
Bun is mightier than the stick.