GOOSE SHOOTING. 267 



to reach their breasts. The decoys honked to them in 

 vain, and then I rose them with the Winchester and got 

 one straggler going low as they flew over our heads. 

 More real enjoyment in that one feat than in anything 

 that happened that day. 



So the hours waned and the day went by, and about 

 4 o'clock the signal, four shots, brought Bobby with the 

 coops to the lump to take us back. We were all out of 

 the blind on the lump with half the decoys in the box 

 when a flock came right at us. Hayman and I sprang 

 down in the blind and grasped the guns, while Bobby 

 crouched behind the coop and squeezed the old rene- 

 gade decoy gander until he honked as never honked he 

 before. I named him Simon Gerty, after the old white 

 renegade on the Ohio, who in the dime novels figured 

 with Daniel Boone. 



Heard one ever the yarn before, that the geese came 

 and settled down among the decoys with coop and boy 

 on the lump ? Bobby's shrill voice, wild with eager im- 

 patience, "kill 'um," spoiled the intended slaughter, but 

 we got two, making fifteen geese. 



Sport enough for the day, and wading across the 

 water we got into the skiff and sailed back to the Brant. 

 A bath and a smart rub down, and dinner all ready. 

 And then, as the boys cleaned the guns and hung up 

 the fowls, I stretched out on the deck, enjoying a dolce 

 far niente, the priceless satiety of a sportsman who has 

 had one fair day without mar or spoil. 



On certain large lakes in Massachusetts, which are 



