Sushkin's Goose 85 



up my position, there to remain till the arrival of the geese. As will presently appear, the 

 twigs of the ambush must be so bent or tied that the seated gunner should not be visible 

 from above. With the departure of the last skeins, the lake is wrapped in silence, only 

 broken by the shrill notes of titmice and buntings. From time to time flocks of ducks fly 

 down and settle on the lake, but again one must refrain from shooting, and when the 

 arrival of the geese is approaching, the ducks must be scared away or they will spoil every- 

 thing. Geese, not only A. neglectus, but all species I have seen, usually settle on the 

 water with great precautions, but, once alighted, they become quiet, and the gunner may 

 for convenience of shooting even show himself out of his ambush, especially at dusk ; ducks, 

 on the contrary, rush headlong on to the water, and most of them, especially the common 

 wild duck, continually keep a sharp look-out in all directions, and the moment one sees any- 

 thing uncanny it begins to quack, when all remove to a distance from the suspicious object, 

 alarming all other birds near by. About an hour before sunset the foremost goose, the 

 leader of some large flock, appears on the lake, keeping the whole time at a height of not 

 less than two gunshots, flying over the shores of the lake chosen for night shelter, or (if the 

 lake be a large one, broken up by stretches of reeds into a series of smaller patches of open 

 water) over the edges of such spaces. Uttering all the time its loud double note, the leader 

 hovers over the lake, flies a little aside, again returns, and whirls round several times above 

 each suspicious object. If the fowler lying in wait notices the goose hovering above him, 

 he must not stir on any account. Sometimes the goose will fly off to some other lake in 

 the neighbourhood, and after looking at it will return to complete its inspection. This 

 done, the bird again flies to the field, and, after a certain interval, about a quarter of an hour, 

 when the sun is going down, will return with a companion, when the examination is begun 

 over again. The pair now fly perceptibly lower over the lake, and the loud cry constantly 

 alternates with a low cackle, as if the geese were having a talk. I am inclined to think that 

 the foremost goose is a male and the second a female, as it has always seemed to me that 

 the second bird is smaller than the first, and its voice nothing like so sonorous. This 

 examination concludes by the two birds settling on the middle of the lake, drinking, shak- 

 ing their wings, and then flying up. The second goose again flies round the shores of the 

 lake, but now much lower, so that a lucky shot may bring it down ; while the foremost 

 bird, whirling in wide circles, rises ever higher and higher, its note resounding louder and 

 louder in the evening calm. Finally, from the field whence the foremost goose appeared 

 is heard a confused sound, at first hardly audible but gradually increasing in volume. The 

 geese have started from the field. The sound becomes more and more audible, till it is 

 clear that it is not a continuous rumble but the sum of many hundreds of voices, and the 

 foremost goose sets off to meet the approaching squadrons. The cry rises to an incredible 

 intensity, the rustle of hundreds of wings is heard, like the whistle of a storm sweeping over 

 a forest, and the geese begin to drop on to the lake from every side, at first in the middle 

 and then nearer and nearer to the shores. The cackling, splashing on the water, and 

 flapping of wings produce an indescribable din. Once at such a moment my muzzle-loader 

 misfired, but the sharp crack of the cap did not disturb the geese, as they probably did not 

 hear it. By degrees all quieten down and one hears the reassuring low cackle of the old 

 birds. If the weather is not calm, the geese always swim against the wind and crouch 

 under the reeds or bushes on the windward side of the lake, but I have not noticed whether 

 they land. On the vast Asly-kul, the shores of which for the greater part of their extent 

 are bare and in many places steep, the geese in calm weather pass the night on the middle 



