292 WILD FOWL SHOOTING. 
pays no attention to the one in the water, knowing it 
cannot be had. The two he has are the largest of 
their kind. 
And now that we have seen how geese are killed 
from sculling boats on the Mississippi, on sand-bars in 
the Missouri, the Mississippi and Platte rivers, let us 
ascend the ladder of goose-shooting farther, and having 
passed its lower rounds, seat ourselves for a while on 
its pinnacle, and from that extreme height, forget for a 
time the milk of the articles written of or on sculling 
and sand-bars, and partake of the cream of this grand 
sport, which we will skim off from the plains of Nebras- 
ka and the fields of Dakota. I have hunted geese in 
both. But the scenes and incidents described will be 
from actual experience in Nebraska near the Platte 
river. Many of you have been over the Union Pacific 
Railroad through Nebraska, and are quite familiar 
with its scenery. Level and flat, with slight, and very 
shght, undulations, a country where the eye can look 
forth on a plain, and see the blue sky kissing the way- 
ing grass, forming a distant line, miles and miles from 
the observer, a perfect ocean of prairie land. 
The time of goose-shooting here is both in spring and 
fall. In the spring, being on their journey to the North, 
warm days makes them uneasy. They dislike to stay, 
and feeling that their summer residence is in repair, 
and waiting for occupancy, they hurriedly depart. 
In the fall it is different. They are returning bound 
for their Southern homes. Coming as they do as the ad- 
vance-guard, the sure precursors of cold wintry months, 
they seem to have confidence in their ability to 
keep in advance of howling winds and drifting 
snows, and make along and welcome visit on the Platte. 
