CHAPTER III 



THE WILD GEESE 



IF you have always lived in a large city, then 

 doubtless you have never heard the honkers. 

 They pass over the cities, as they pass over the 

 country, but the noise of the city, even at dead of 

 night, would prevent your hearing the honk, honk, 

 honk as the flock of wild geese steers its way un- 

 der the stars and clouds high over the city roofs. 



Sometime you must hear them going over. 

 Some starry night in November you may be cross- 

 ing a wide pasture field alone when all is silent 

 about you. The frosts have hushed the grass- 

 hoppers and crickets and katydids, the field birds 

 have gone south, the rattling farm wagons on the 

 distant roads have all passed by, the wind is down, 

 and the fields all around are still. 



Suddenly, out of the dark, faraway blue toward 

 the polar star, sounds a faint clanging, clamorous 

 sound as of several persons shouting, as of sev- 



25 



