Many, many, moons ago, the first place I lived out on my own, I patched up and closed the front on an old low hog shed to keep birds in. They free ranged all day among a few beef cow/calf in the pasture the shed was in. They did come to the shed to feed, drink, lay, and a safe place to roost, but lead a pretty feral life. You could get most of the older hens to come to you with a bribe of some table scraps or scratch, but the young birds having been raised by broodies in this enviorment were not very human imprinted. When the young cockerels got to be butchering age, after first crawling around, trying to catch freaked out birds in the back of that low, dark shed, I went to plan B. On a bright sunny morning, with the birds milling around near the shed, before they spread across the pasture, I would place a sand bag on the corner post, pick a cockerel that I knew was not in contention to be kept as a breeder for next year, center his head in the crosshairs of the .22, and touch her off. The rest of the cockerels would rush up to see what the deal was with Jim, maybe give him flog or two. I would then pick out contestant number two, and so on, till I had the what I wanted on the ground in short order. A well placed .22 hollow point usually took care of bleeding them out pretty well, but to be sure I would hang them by their feet on the fence after beheading them.
Now this was a solution to maybe a rather unique and short term situation, and having long since been remidied, I have gone back to more traditional methods, which I would also recommend to you as well. Raising stock to feed your family sometimes requires you to cowboy up and deal with some of the less pleasant aspects of it.