THE CANADA GOOSE 259 
ing oar, fainter than ever from our pilot’s 
greater care as he moves it to and fro. Flat 
on your back you lie with your face turned sky- 
ward and wonder if the geese can’t hear your 
heart, throbbing, as it seems to you, like an 
engine. You can bear it no longer. ‘‘How 
far?’’ you ask. ‘‘Keep still! About a hun- 
dred yards,’’ the answer comes back in a sub- 
dued whisper, and again your pulses renew 
their dance. ‘‘They’re swimming again. 
Confound that gander!’’ (Let us change a 
word here for good reasons; the remark need 
not be rendered literally, but the toiler is 
scarcely to blame for a trifle of impatience.) 
‘‘He’s been over the route before.’’ A mo- 
ment later—‘We’re gaining a bit again. If 
my wrist holds out and we can get twenty yards 
nearer we can chance it. When I touch you sit 
up and take the three together on the left— 
the left, mind you. I will take care of those on 
the right.’’ Again only the gentle motion of 
the boat and you could never tell that you were 
moving, for every landmark is hidden,—only a 
white gull far-wheeling in the blue and change- 
less expanse above to look at. The warm sun 
shines down into your face; you close your eyes 
