:j February, 1919 ‘ F 
scares them.” — “All right then, whenever 
you are ready.” 
T he geese had come no closer, but had 
changed their position somewhat, 
I could not shoot from where I sat. 
Slowly I drew my gun back and care- 
fully parting the grass over of the 
: blind in another place, I made ready for 
the shot. The old gander and goose had 
moved a little to one side and lapping, 
made a good shot for Hank, while the 
I seven goslings had lined up beautifully 
for Scouse and me. 
“Are you ready?” “Yes.” “One, two, 
three,” BANG! Immediately we were on 
our feet, and for a second I thought they 
were all done for; then very heavily one 
rose from the center, to be immediately 
cut down by Scouse’s second barrel. Then 
one badly hurt rose to the left to be 
dropped by Hank, then one rose slowly 
The pleasure of carrying them in 
to me to drop again at the report of my 
gun, and now seven geese were on the 
water all apparently dead and two in 
the air, one of them hard hit. 
Hank and Scouse sprang from the 
blind to gather the birds and I watched 
the remnant of the flock. They flew out 
over the channel and then the wounded 
bird turned and started back, followed by 
the other. 
“Down Hank! Down Scouse! They 
are coming back.” Hank was by this 
time in the water among the duck de- 
coys and Scouse on the bank, they both 
crouched down, meantime I had hurriedly 
slipped in a couple of shells and was 
ready. Back they came, the “cripple” 
decoyed beautifully, and with curved 
wings came in right over the decoys. 
The little gun came to my shoulder and 
at its sharp crack the long black neck 
dropped backward, the broad wings fold- 
ed and with a resounding splash the 
eighth goose was down. We fired our 
other barrels at the remaining goose, but 
it was out of range and now while every 
^n was empty, with feeble honkings. 
REST AND S T R E A .M 
59 
one of the “dead” geese rose and with 
hanging legs started to fly away. 
“Stop him; Stop him! No use, never 
mind he can’t go far.” Weaker and 
weaker it flew and after going a few 
hundred yards, dropped again and at 
once the remaining goose lit beside it. 
Now Scouse gets out the boat and after 
a short row, gathers the cripple, the 
other merely swimming away. 
The dead geese having been gathered, 
there is great rejoicing at the blind. 
After a short war dance, with elaborate 
ceremony, a small libation is poured to 
the goose shooter’s gods, and after look- 
ing over and hefting the dead birds, 
which were very large and fat, quiet once 
more reigns. We are now watching the 
remaining goose, which honking mourn- 
fully, is slowly drifting down the bay 
with the tide. 
“Hank,’ I said, “If we keep low and 
quiet, I believe that goose will come back 
to us before sun down.” Slowly the sun 
sank in the west. Our decoys kept call- 
ing from time to time, and then Scouse 
who had been watching cried, “Here she 
comes,” and the lone goose in the failing 
sunlight came into her doom, and at the 
crack of Hank’s gun, joined her mates 
who had gone before, and so came to bag 
the entire flock of nine. 
I T was a beautiful sunset, the western 
sky was aglow with all the glorious 
changing colors of the rainbow. No 
artist’s brush could do it justice. To me, 
the sunsets viewed from the shooting 
points in the shooting season, are a joy, 
a wonder, and a revelation. 
As the sun’s red disc disappeared be- 
hind the distant pines, we began taking 
up the decoys. This is an interesting 
sight, especially to a novice. “Black 
Jake” is taken up and placed in a crate 
on the meadow bank, and at once all the 
other ducks swim to the shore, and wad- 
dling to the crate, with prodigious 
quackings, crowd around and insist on 
being placed inside with “Jake.” 
At last all is done. Hank with the 
decoys and seven of the geese in the boat 
rows around the shore, while Scouse and 
I take the path across the meadow to the 
shack; Scouse with his two geese slung 
over his shoulder, as happy as a lord. 
He said he would not miss the pleasure 
of carrsnng them in for a hundred dol- 
lars. As we walked along, Scouse said, 
“This has sure been some day for me. 
I didn’t want to say anything in front of 
Dad, but Mr. A. if you hadn’t put your 
hand on my leg, and told me not to get 
excited, I surely would have blown up, 
but that just steadied me.” 
When we reached the shack the geese 
were tied in pairs, again admired and 
hung on the side of the house, with the 
ducks we had shot in the morning. 
A nd now with rubber boots replaced 
by comfortable slippers. Hank and 
I reclined before the glowing fire, 
and fought our battles over again, while 
Scouse, who is an excellent cook, pre- 
pared the supper, and such a meal! 
Surely that bountiful supper made a 
proper ending to a red letter day. So 
after a brief period I went to bed, leaving 
‘Scouse,” now a veteran in the World 
War, proudly wearing the blue and gold 
chevrons, and whose deadly precision 
with the machine gun helped hurl back 
the Hun at St. Mihiel and Belleau Wood 
Hank and his son to enjoy the fragrant 
weed, and the last thing I remembered, 
before sinking into the arms of Morpheus, 
was Scouse saying, “Just think of it 
Dad, a whole flock of nine geese killed 
without a miss. We couldn’t do it again 
in a hundred years, that surely was a 
record shot.” 
Hank at the door of the shack 
