THE CANADA GOOSE 263 
the mire I crouched in a motionless heap with 
my hat full of shells loaded with BB and buck- 
shot lying beside me, and in my mind already 
I owned the whole flock. One hundred and 
fifty yards away, and at a single warning note 
from the leader they turned aside and swung 
slowly past just out of reach. With necks out- 
stretched and wings set, they drifted down to 
the water and alighted just at a safe distance. 
Here and there tussocks of black mud rose from 
the slimy shallows, and taking his station on 
one of these the old file leader stood sentinel 
while the others, scattered over the surrounding 
surface, were soon contentedly feeding. Pre- 
sently the gander’s appetite began to urge its 
claims upon him, and giving an impatient call 
he was speedily relieved, the nearest goose 
clambering upon his point of observation even 
while he was leaving. No quarreling, but with 
ready obedience the guard duty was done, each 
knowing that his neighbor would cheerfully 
perform his part. While the gander was get- 
ting his bite, and during the hour’s time which 
I spent hoping they might feed in shore and so 
give me my chance, fully half a dozen birds took 
their turn at watching while all the rest wera 
