A DOO IN EXILE 67 



new home he never once gave way to his criminal 

 appetite for sheep 's blood ; but whenever the flock 

 came in his way, which was often enough, he 

 turned resolutely aside and skulked off out of the 

 sound of their bleating as quickly as possible. 



All I heard from my host only served to raise 

 my opinion of Major, and, remembering what he 

 had accomplished that day, I formed the idea that 

 the most glorious period of his life had just 

 dawned, that he had now begun a series of ex- 

 ploits, compared with which the greatest deeds of 

 all retrievers in other lands would sink into insig- 

 nificance. 



I have now to relate Major's second important 

 exploit, and on this occasion the birds were geese. 



The upland geese are excellent eating, and it 

 was our custom to make an early breakfast off a 

 cold goose, or of any remnants left in the larder. 

 Cold boiled goose and coffee, often with no bread 

 it sounds strange, but never shall I forget those 

 delicious early Patagonian breakfasts. 



Now the geese, although abundant at that sea- 

 son, were excessively wary, and hard to kill; and 

 as no other person went after them, although all 

 grumbled loudly when there was no goose for 

 breakfast, I was always very glad to get a shot 

 at them when out with the gun. 



One day I saw a great flock congregated on a 

 low mud bank in one of the lagoons, and immedi- 

 ately began to maneuver to get within shooting 

 distance without disturbing them. Fortunately 



