THE GREY LAG-GOOSE. 59 
all Water Fowl, and allow a boat to drift almost on to them before 
they move. When still about a hundred yards off, the flock is 
seen to be grouped in a dense mass ; fully half are asleep, a few 
are standing at the water’s edge drinking slowly, raising 
the head at each gulp, and the rest are standing gazing 
listlessly about ; as the boat approaches, a general low cackling 
takes place.) a good many of the sleepers get up and begin 
to look about, and a few of those already on their legs begin 
to waddle away from the water’s edge. As you approach 
nearer, all begin to walk slowly away, and, asa rule, if you 
persist in coming within twenty yards, and coming on quicker 
than they can walk, they rise and fly; or if you stand up in 
the boat or make any sudden noise, they will equally take 
the wing; but if you drift quietly down on them, they will let 
you come withintwenty or thirty yards without quitting the 
bank. The first gun fired, the din that rises from a flock 
of 300 or 400 (and I have carefully counted and estimated, 
glass in hand, flocks containing fully treble the latter number,) 
is incredible ; their cries, mingled with the flappings of their 
wings, render it impossible to make one’s-self heard for a 
brief space until they get well on the wing. Then they will 
circle round and round over head whilst the dead are being 
picked up, and the winged, which always take the water, swim 
well, and dive fairly, are being hunted down, uttering the 
most clamorous cries, and not unfrequently returning within 
shot. 
A tremendous chase a slightly wounded bird will often lead 
you—your boat, a rough native affair, square or nearly so at both 
ends, and propelled by two crazy paddles, which are always 
giving way some where, whenever you want the rowers to give 
way. Ifthe bird heads up stream and you have the wind 
against you also, you may have to give the chase up for the 
time, but later in the afternoon, when the wind has dropped, 
as it almost always does in the cold weather towards evening, 
you are sure to find your friend sitting somewhere solitary 
a mile or so up-stream by the water’s edge, unless he has been 
made away with en-route by some Crocodile or Eagle. Once, 
and once only, I saw a “Mugger,” or snub-nosed Crocodile, 
engulf a wounded Goose in its huge jaws and disappear; but 
both Bonelli’s Eagle and the Ring-tailed Fishing Eagle (Halaé- 
tus leucoryphus) constantly carry off wounded birds even of this 
large species. The Ring-Tail is by far the most troublesome in 
this repect. If anywhere he spy a wounded Goose, or other 
water bird, he is down on him, or after him,in a moment. The 
bird, even if only slightly wounded, and flying more or less well 
when the Eagle takes up the chase, drops at once into the water. 
Down swoops the Eagle, its long legs extended to the utmost, 
and just as his claws are within a yard of the victim’s head, 
down dives the Goose, only to rise when its pursuer has swept 
