THE WILD GOOSE. 1 29 



wings mingled with many a Honk — onk — honk — 

 k-wonk, and upward swings the flock, leaving the 

 smooth water unmarred by even a floating 

 feather. Many such a miss will you score with 

 the rifle unless you have many guides to the 

 distance scattered over the pond ; but there is 

 often more satisfaction in seeing the ball strike 

 the water an inch, perhaps, over the back of the 

 goose at which you aimed than in killing one 

 with the shot-gun. 



For the most condensed excitement, driving 

 into a flock of geese with a fast team, a good 

 driver, and a light wagon always wore the laurel. 

 It could be done only in the days when the 

 game had not learned to fear a wagon much, and 

 even then only with a strong breeze and the 

 ground good. There were plenty of places 

 where the ground was smooth enough for the 

 most rapid pace, and plenty of mustangs that 

 could fly over badger and coyote holes as easily 

 and safely as the rising sun over the valleys. 



Imagine nearly an acre of the plain half cov- 

 ered with geese whose black heads and white 

 throats rise in tier upon tier until they look like 

 a small army. They have done feeding, and are 



