54 Birds of Lakeside and Prairie 



A little log hut, built after the fashion of fifty years ago, 

 stands at a corner of Hamilton's Woods, upon what was 

 intended for a town lot. The path leads away from the high- 

 way at this point and strikes down straight toward the Skokie. 

 A pair of downy woodpeckers flew over the path, and began 

 playing hide-and-seek around the bole of an oak. The downy 

 woodpecker is everlastingly cheerful. Whenever there is a 

 break in the interest of a winter morning's walk, he is certain 

 to appear and do what he can to enliven the occasion. This 

 morning he did more. One of the pair went to the tip of a 

 tree, and while my eye was following his course along the 

 branch there came within the range of vision ten great birds far 

 up in the sky and flying westward. They were wild geese. 

 There was the gander leader, and trailing along forming the 

 V-shaped wedge were the followers. I blessed the downy for 

 calling my attention to the geese. It was the middle of Janu- 

 ary; the thermometer was close to zero, and yet here was a 

 flock of geese in northern Illinois. The birds were heading 

 for the swamp. What two months before had been a stream 

 in the center of the marsh was now a long, glistening, ice rib- 

 bon, with here and there, as it were, a white knot tied, where 

 the rushes parted a little to the right and left. The ten geese 

 settled slowly toward the swamp, and then rose again at the 

 direction of their leader, who doubtless said, "No rest nor 

 forage here, but I know of a corn-field beyond." 



I put these ten birds down as geese indeed, for forgetting 

 the warmth and food plenty in the South, and for trusting for 

 a living to the poor pickings of a frozen, storm-swept country. 

 In a few moments I found there were other geese. A second 

 V-shaped flock of thirteen individuals passed over in the wake 

 of the leading ten. Apparently there was some trouble in the 



