CANADA GOOSE-SHOOTING. 297 



attention to the broken line of grass, and knowing 

 there was an opening of some kind, drove toward it. 

 All was silent as death, not a sound could be heard, ex- 

 cept that made by ourselves. As we emerged from the 

 tall grass, what a sight there was before us ! Never did 

 I see a sight so novel, so thoroughly impressive. I am 

 a lover of Nature, and more than half the pleasure of 

 the chase is afforded me by what I see and hear, when 

 out in the solitude of the woods, floating on the rip- 

 pling water, or feeling the cheerful wind as it gently 

 plays around, thrilling through me when on the open 

 prairie. There, right before us, stood an army. Yes, 

 an army not of men, but of geese. They were in com- 

 plete possession of an old pasture, containing about 

 eighty acres ; from whose surface the grass had been so 

 closely cropped by herds of cattle that the grass 

 struggled through the ground striving hard for an ex- 

 istence. The pasture itself was level ; as level as a 

 floor, and here and there were congregated a vast mul- 

 titude of geese, encamped like soldiers of some great 

 commonwealth, calmly resting, passively recruiting 

 their fatigued bodies, after some tiresome foraging ex- 

 pedition. At one point, aside from the main flock a 

 knot of five or six stood as if in consultation. These 

 evidently were the generals and officers, planning some 

 gigantic attack on the neighboring stubble or corn 

 fields. Here and there sentinels paced leisurely along, 

 the warning guards for the indolent tribe ; then again 

 we saw them in platoons, in corps, in companies, in reg- 

 iments, all trying to catch their noon-day nap. They 

 were scattered this way throughout the entire field. 

 To make the scene still more realistic, the mass of gray 

 and black was prominently relieved by miniature walls- 



