WILD GEESE, 261 
water. Then commences a scene of excitement, for the 
wounded attempt to escape by rushing into the bay, sub- 
merging their heads and bodies as low as possible, and 
swimming rapidly outward, where they would subse- 
quently die, unless captured, as they could. not rise from 
the water. The wild-fowlers who wear rubber boots ob- 
ject to parting with them, however, so they dash in after 
them, and open fire on them or attempt to seize them by 
the head. They may or may not succeed in killing them, 
for to shoot a swiftly moving goose, which is almost 
buried out of sight, is no easy matter. Some may try to 
capture a bird alive, in order to keep it as a decoy, and 
then it is a ludicrous sight to see them rushing through 
the bay, while the cautious goose swims ahead of them, 
and almost within reach, until it finally lures them into 
water so deep that they disappear for a moment or two. 
This mishap is generally greeted with laughter; and if 
the bird has its beak open, and looks rather pumped, 
some cautious member of the party shouts: 
‘‘Look out; she has her mouth open as if she were 
going to bite you. Kick her in the snoot if she attempts 
it. Don’t stand any fooling from her, or we’ll never 
see you again.” 
The wild-fowler, who is trembling from the ducking 
in the icy water, may receive this advice in silence, and 
allow somebody else to kill the vagrant, or he may blurt 
out something about going to heaven (?) and shutting 
up. When he reaches the shore he is likely to be ad- 
monished about the use of such terrible language, but a 
charitable individual may come to his aid, and say that 
he only uses ‘cuss words on goose days,” and is not 
morally responsible for his actions on such occasions. He 
is then probably forgiven in a mock serious and doleful 
manner, and recommended to go to the nearest house 
and dry himself, so that he may obtain a faint idea of his 
future abode—a piece of advice which is generally taken. 
