THE CANADA GOOSE 263 



the mire I crouched in a motionless heap with 

 my hat full of shells loaded with BB and buck- 

 shot lying beside me, and in my mind already 

 I owned the whole flock. One hundred and 

 fifty yards away, and at a single warning note 

 from the leader they turned aside and swung 

 slowly past just out of reach. With necks out- 

 stretched and wings set, they drifted down to 

 the water and alighted just at a safe distance. 

 Here and there tussocks of black mud rose from 

 the slimy shallows, and taking his station on 

 one of these the old file leader stood sentinel 

 while the others, scattered over the surrounding 

 surface, were soon contentedly feeding. Pre- 

 sently the gander's appetite began to urge its 

 claims upon him, and giving an impatient call 

 he was speedily relieved, the nearest goose 

 clambering upon his point of observation even 

 while he was leaving. No quarreling, but with 

 ready obedience the guard duty was done, each 

 knowing that his neighbor would cheerfully 

 perform his part. While the gander was get- 

 ting his bite, and during the hour's time which 

 I spent hoping they might feed in shore and so 

 give me my chance, fully half a dozen birds took 

 their turn at watching while all the rest were 



