OH, SHOOT! 



I made haste to gather up the dead birds 

 and lay them on the battery wings; then I 

 moved the shell-shocked gander to the head 

 of the rig. But before I could get him 

 anchored, distant honks warned me, and I 

 ran for cover. Of course, I tripped over 

 decoy lines everybody does. I did Miss 

 Kellerman's famous standing, sitting, stand- 

 ing dive, but there was still a dry spot between 

 my shoulder blades when I plunged kicking 

 into the battery. I was too late, however, and 

 the flock went by, out of range, laughing up- 

 roariously at me. 



Then up from the south came a rain squall, 

 and I stood with my back to it, shivering and 

 talking loudly as tiny glacial streams explored 

 parts of my body that are not accustomed to 

 water. During the rest of the afternoon, 

 cloudbursts followed one another with such 

 regularity that my battery resembled a horse 

 trough, and when I immersed myself in it it 

 overflowed. But between squalls the birds 

 flew. When a bunch of geese pitched in at 

 my head and I downed five, I fell in love with 

 the spot and would have resisted a writ of 

 eviction. 



When the guides appeared at dark I had a 

 28 



