78 HUNTING TRIPS 



enough to shoot, as the dark river bank was 

 behind them. I crawled quickly back a few 

 yards, and went off a good bit to the left into 

 a hollow. Peeping over the edge I could 

 now see the geese, gathered into a clump 

 with their necks held straight out, sharply 

 outlined against the horizon ; the sand flats 

 stretching out on either side, while the sky 

 above was barred with gray and faint crim- 

 son. I fired into the thickest of the bunch, 

 and as the rest flew off, with discordant 

 clamor, ran forward and picked up my vic- 

 tim, a fat young wild goose (or Canada 

 goose), the body badly torn by the bullet. 



On two other occasions I have killed geese 

 with the rifle. Once while out riding along 

 the river bottoms, just at dawn, my atten- 

 tion was drawn to a splashing and low cack- 

 ling in the stream, where the water deepened 

 in a wide bend, which swept round a low 

 bluff. Leaving my horse where he was, 

 I walked off towards the edge of the stream, 

 and lying on the brink of the bank looked 

 over into the water of the bend. Only a 



