210 FIELD SHOOTING. 



before we got to the bank we could hear the 

 flock of geese, on the ice below, chattering in the 

 cold. There was heavy timber on both banks, 

 and we crept up in it on our side until we 

 were within about forty yards of the pack of geese 

 on the ice below. As we raised ourselves up, the 

 wild fowl started to fly, and we put in the dis- 

 charge from our eight barrels as they were 

 rising, and killed ten. Our guns were muzzle- 

 loaders. If they had been breech-loaders, we 

 could have charged and shot again, as the geese 

 seemed bewildered for a little while, and did not 

 fly straight away. Now began my bad luck. 



The wild geese, as a matter of course, fell 

 on the ice. It was what is called slush 

 ice, which is none of the strongest, but weak 

 and treacherous even when thick. My companions 

 were afraid to go out for the dead geese, and I 

 had to go, though the heaviest man of the party. 

 It is my habit, when out shooting, hardly ever 

 to let my gun be out of my hands, and it was 

 now lucky that in going on the ice for these 

 geese 1 carried it with me. I had brought some 

 of the geese to the bank, and gone out for the 

 balance. The furthest two I got, and was just 

 stooping to pick up the last when in I went. 



