44 YEARBOOK, PUBLIC MUSEUM, MILWAUKEE [Vol. II. 



found scattered about in our collecting area. If there was the least 

 cause for the birds to become suspicious, they would not alight in the 

 field, but would go on to another where they were sure to find food in 

 plenty. They would seldom frequent the same field for more than two 

 days in succession. 



On one occasion we discovered a flock of about thirty feeding in a 

 field of corn stubble, which was bare of shocks or any other form of 

 natural cover sufficient to allow a successful unobserved approach to 

 within gunshot. Mr. Ochsner decided to try a novel plan of his own. 

 He had it figured that his Ford could "outfly" them. Straight down 

 the corn rows we careened with that flock of dumfounded Geese as the 

 objective. They allowed an approach to within fair killing distance, 

 but as usual, when a man has a chance to make a killing, something 

 happens. Neither could we shoot through the curtains nor operate the 

 rusty hinges on the door, so all we could do was mourn our loss. 



Most of the birds frequenting the area, known as "The Prairie," 

 just west of Prairie du Sac, gathered at night on Lake Wisconsin, an 

 artificial lake caused by damming the Wisconsin river at Prairie du 

 Sac, and extending up the river course for about twenty miles, thus 

 submerging thousands of acres of river timber, the dead trees of which 

 still stand in the water. This lake has many natural advantages as a 

 secure resting place for waterfowl during their great northward mi- 

 gration. At this season of the year the main or original channel of the 

 river is free of ice, but the great expanse of rotten ice on either side 

 is securely held by the dead timber. It is extremely dangerous to walk 

 on, yet too thick to force a small boat through. Here the thousands of 

 geese and ducks remain undisturbed until instinct urges them north- 

 ward, and in some cases until the last of the ice has gone. 



On April 3rd, Mr. Stoddard and I started with the power driven 

 rowboat up the lake to Okee, a point where the dead timber still stands 

 in greatest abundance. It was here that we witnessed a never-to-be- 

 forgotten sight. We heard the loud clamor of geese from somewhere 

 far back in the timber, and, being attracted by the sound, we headed 

 our boat for the nearest large oak. Mr. Stoddard assisted me out of the 

 boat and into the crotch of the tree, where I sat with my feet inter- 

 locked beneath the limb to prevent falling into the deep and cold water 

 below, in case I got a shot. I made myself as comfortable as my posi- 

 tion would permit, while Mr. Stoddard ran the boat as close as he 

 could to where he figured the geese would be, in the hope of getting a 

 long rifle shot at them, and possibly driving them over my head. 



