32 BEYOND THE PASTURE BARS 



when the village turned out to the slaughter, the 

 poor things even scattered to the neighboring 

 fields, too weak and heavy to rise higher than the 

 tree-tops. 



There is not a single event in all the year of 

 the fields that I would not sooner forego than the 

 sight and sound of the flying geese. How it takes 

 hold of the imagination! There is no vivider 

 passage in all of Audubon than his description of 

 the flight: 



"As each successive night the hoar-frosts cover 

 the country, and the streams are closed over by 

 the ice, the family joins that in their neighbor- 

 hood, which is also joined by others. At length 

 they espy the advance of a snow-storm, when 

 the ganders with one accord sound the order for 

 their departure. 



"After many wide circlings, the flock has risen 

 high in the thin air, and an hour or more is spent 

 in teaching the young the order in which they are 

 to move. But now the host has been marshaled, 

 and off it starts. The old males advance in front, 

 the females follow, the young come in succession 

 according to their strength, the weakest forming 

 the rear. Should one feel fatigued, his position 

 is changed in the ranks, and he assumes a place 



