THE WILD GOOSE. 1$! 



beneath the bouncing wheels, the ground-squirrel, 

 in full run for his hole, skips over the burrowing- 

 owl'shead, and the chaparral-cock, distrusting his 

 nimble legs in such emergency, breaks into re- 

 luctant flight, while the geese begin to waddle 

 and crane their necks to see what the racket is 

 about. They are used to horses and even 

 wagons, but not to such a runaway pace. By 

 the time the wagon is within seventy yards of 

 them they suspect something is the matter. By 

 the time it has bounced over the next twenty 

 they are sure of it. In another moment, with 

 many a Ilonk-onk-wonk, they are in the air. 



But as they can rarely resist the habit of 

 rising toward the wind, the side from which we 

 are descending upon them, a moment is lost 

 during which the wagon covers another twenty 

 yards. There is nothing left the game but to 

 whirl over backward, out sideways and upwards. 

 But by the time they discover their mistake and 

 try to rectify it another moment is lost. Before 

 you know it you are perhaps under the very 

 middle of a wildly flapping and climbing medley 

 of dark gray wings and screaming throats out- 

 stretched towards all the points of the compass. 



