A Golden Opportunity 341 



was boring and veering two hundred yards to 

 my left. Would they go, or turn? For an 

 agonizing minute things looked extremely doubt- 

 ful. The big flock reminded me of old " pigeon 

 days," as it swept low over the farther end of the 

 field, then suddenly it rose and, veering sharply, 

 headed directly for my stand. In an instant 

 doubt akin to despair was succeeded by keen 

 excitement. They were coming like the wind. 

 It seemed too good to be true, and it was impos- 

 sible to resist the inclination to open the gun and 

 make sure that shells were in place, for surely 

 something would have to be wrong to spoil such 

 a chance. 



Then came the roar of countless wings, and a 

 river of gray speed flowed through the field of 

 blue. To the centre of that stream of life was 

 forty yards, and its height was some twenty yards 

 above the grass. I was almost ashamed to shoot, 

 for it seemed as if shells loaded with strong butter 

 should have done something. The flock looked 

 to be fully one hundred yards long, while at its 

 head and at another point a short distance back, 

 the formation presented an apparently solid mass. 

 Naturally, these two masses caught the eye, and 

 at them the " twelve " hurled its fatal message. 



The result was shameful! For an instant 

 two great gaps showed in the stream of gray- 

 then I understood why some old scientific seer, 



