210 BULLETIN 130, UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM 



instantly plunges beneath the surface, and in the twinkling of an eye her brood 

 disappear after her ; now they are among the thick rushes, with nothing above 

 water but their little bills. The mother is marching toward the land, having: 

 lisped to her brood in accents so gentle that none but they and her mate can 

 understand their import, and all are safely lodged under cover until the dis- 

 appointed eagle or gull bears away. 



More than six weeks have now elapsed. The down of the goslings, which at 

 first was soft and tufty, has become coarse and hairlike. Their wings are 

 edged with quills and their bodies bristled with feathers. They have in- 

 creased in size and, living in the midst of abundance, they have become fat, 

 so that on shore they make their way with difficulty, and as they are yet 

 unable to fly, the greatest care is required to save them from their numerous 

 enemies. They grow apace, and now the burning days of August are over. 

 They are able to fly with ease from one shore to another, and as each succes- 

 sive night the hoarfrosts cover the country and the streams are closed over by 

 the ice, the family joins that in their neighborhood, which is also joined by 

 others. At length they spy the advance of a snowstorm, when the ganders 

 with one accord sound the order for their departure. 



Samuel N. Rhoads (1895) published the following interesting 

 note, based on the observations of H. B. Young in Tennessee : 



At Reelfoot Lake the goose nearly always builds in the top of a blasted 

 tree over the water, sometimes nesting as high as 50 feet or even higher. 

 When the young are hatched the gander soon gets notice of it and swims 

 around the foot of the tree uttering loud cries. On a signal from mother 

 goose he redoubles his outcries and, describing a large circle immediately 

 beneath the nest, beats the water with his wings, dives, paddles, and slashes 

 about with the greatest fury, making such a terrible noise and commotion 

 that he can be heard for several miles. This effectually drives away from 

 that spot every catfish, spoonbill, loggerhead, hellbender, moccasin, water 

 snake, eagle, mink, and otter that might take a fancy to young goslings, and 

 into the midst of the commotion mother goose, by a few deft thrusts of her 

 bill, spills the whole nestful. But a few seconds elapse ere the reunited family 

 are noiselessly paddling for the shores of some secluded cove with nothing to 

 mark the scene of their exploits but a few feathers and upturned water plants 

 and above them the huge white cypress with its deserted nest. 



While the family party is moving about on the water the gander 

 usually leads the procession, the goslings following, and the goose 

 acting as rear guard. The old birds sometimes lead their young 

 for long distances over large bodies of water. While cruising on 

 Lake Winnipegosis on June 18, 1913, we came upon a family party 

 fully 5 miles from shore and evidently swimming across the lake. 

 The two old birds when hard pressed finally took wing and flew 

 away, leaving the three half-grown young to their fate. The young 

 were still completely covered with down, and their wings were not 

 at all developed, although their bodies were as large as mallards. 

 They could swim quite fust on the surface, could dive well, and could 

 swim for a long distance under water. They were surprisingly 

 active in eluding capture, and when hard pressed they swam partly 



