NOVEMBER'S BIRDS OF THE HEAVENS 273 



one still swims among the floating leaves on se- 

 cluded waterways. 



Now is the time when the woodcock rises from 

 his swampy summer home and zigzags his way to 

 a land where earthworms are still active. Some- 

 times in our walks we may find the fresh body 

 of one of these birds, and an upward glance at the 

 roadside will show the cause the cruel telegraph 

 wires against which the flight of the bird has car- 

 ried it with fatal velocity. 



One of the greatest pleasures which November 

 has to give us is the joy of watching for the long 

 lines of wild geese from the Canada lakes. Who 

 can help being thrilled at the sight of these strong- 

 winged birds, as the V-shaped flock throbs into 

 view high in air, beating over land and water, 

 forest and city, as surely and steadily as the pass- 

 ing of the day behind them. One of the finest of 

 November sounds is the "Honk! honk!" which 

 comes to our ears from such a company of geese, 

 musical tones "like a clanking chain drawn 

 through the heavy air." 



At the stroke of midnight I have been halted in 

 my hurried walk by these notes. They are a bit 

 of the wild north which may even enter within a 

 city, and three years ago I trapped a fine gander 

 and a half a dozen of his flock in the New York 

 Zoological Park, where they have lived ever since 

 and reared their golden-hued goslings, which 



