THE NORTH SHORE 87 
gladdens the heart of the goose hunter,—the cry of the 
Canada goose. It came clear but a trifle querulous 
from the heavens. A V-shaped flock of these Northern 
visitors had crossed the mountains from the north. 
Many high-pitched voices succeeded the first clear note. 
They had seen the lake. They were arguing among 
themselves. Should they alight and rest on the longed- 
for water? The flock lowered, swinging in a half circle. 
They were excited and garrulous, undecided. Sud- 
denly a clear note rang out. The leading goose dropped 
back. Another goose swept forward to the vacant place 
at the front of the V-shaped double column. Again 
a single high clear note took the place of the former un- 
decided ones. 
The flock stiffened, rose higher, and on steady pinions 
headed southward for the Gulf. A new commander 
was in charge. 
