834 THE CACKLING GOOSE. 
the welcome change from a diet of fish eaten all through the winter to geese, 
which soon becomes the staple. 
“As May advances and one by one the ponds open, and the earth looks 
out here and there from under its winter covering, the loud notes of the vari- 
ous wild fowl are heard, becoming daily more numerous. Their harsh and 
varied cries make sweet music to the ears of all who have just passed the win- 
ter’s silence and dull monotony, and in spite of the lowering skies and oc- 
casional snow-squalls every one makes ready and is off to the marshes. 
“The flocks come cleaving their way from afar, and as they draw near 
their summer homes raise a chorus of loud notes in high-pitched tone like the 
syllable ‘luk,’ rapidly repeated, and a reply rises upon all sides, until the whole 
marsh re-echoes with the din, and the new-comers circle slowly up to the edge 
of a pond amid a perfect chorus raised by the geese all about, as if in con- 
gratulation. 
“Even upon first arrival many of the birds appear to be mated, as I have 
frequently shot one from a flock and seen a single bird leave its companions at 
once and come circling about, uttering loud call-notes. If the fallen bird is 
only wounded its mate will almost invariably join it, and frequently allow itself 
to be approached and shot without attempting to escape. In some instances I 
have known a bird thus bereaved of its partner to remain in the vicinity for 
two or three days, calling and circling about. Altho many are mated, others 
are not, and the less fortunate males fight hard and long for possession of 
females. I frequently amused myself, while at the Yukon mouth, by watching 
flocks of geese on the muddy banks of the river, which was a favorite resort. 
The females kept to one side and dozed, or dabbled their bills in the mud; the 
males were scattered about, and kept moving uneasily from side to side, mak- 
ing a great outcry. This would last but a few minutes, when two of the war- 
riors would cross each other's path, and then began the battle. They would 
seize one another by the bill, and then turn and twist each other about, their 
wings hanging loosely by their sides meanwhile. Suddenly they would close up 
and each would belabor his rival with the bend of the wing, until the sound 
could be heard two or three hundred yards. The wing-strokes were always 
warded off by the other bird’s wing, so but little damage was done, but it usu- 
ally ended in the weaker bird breaking loose and running away. Just before 
the males seize each other they usually utter a series of peculiar low growling 
or grunting notes. 
“The last week of May finds many of these birds already depositing their 
eggs. Upon the grassy borders of ponds, in the midst of a bunch of grass, or 
on a small knoll these birds find a spot where they make a slight depression and 
perhaps line it with a scanty layer of grasses, after which the eggs are laid, 
numbering from five to eight. These eggs, like the birds, average smaller than 
those of the other geese. 
