Several birds fell in this way to the lot of our friends of the East Bar, and La Salle and Kennedy got one each; but the sport was too tedious, and La Salle, taking a bullet-bag and powder-flask from his box, proceeded to count out ten bullets, which he laid carefully before him.
"I am going to try to bring down at least one goose from those flocks which pass over us nearly every moment. They are certainly four hundred yards high, and I shall aim at the leader of the flock in every case, giving him about ten feet allowance for headway."
The first ball was without effect, although the leader swerved like a frightened steed as the deadly missile sung past him. The second cut a feather from the tail of the bird aimed at; and the third failed likewise. At the fourth shot the leader swerved as before, and then kept on his way.
"You might as well try to kill them a mile off, as at that distance," said Kennedy, disparagingly.
"I hit a bird in that flock, and I think the leader, at that; for I heard the rap of the ball as it struck. It may have been only through his quill-feathers. No; there's the bird I hit. See, he can't keep up with the flock."
The huge gander last fired at had hardly gone a hundred yards, ere, despite his endeavors, he had lowered several feet below the flock. In the next decade, the distance was increased to sixty feet, and in the third to as many yards. In the last hundred yards of his flight he sank rapidly, although struggling nobly to regain the flock; and when about fifty yards above the ice, he towered up a few feet into the air, and fell over backward, stone dead, with a rifle-shot transfixing his body, in the region of the heart. On weighing him he turned the scale at fifteen pounds.
Of the remaining six shots but one was effective--breaking the wing-tip of a young female, which was secured for a live decoy.
Kennedy now proposed a plan for approaching a large flock, which had alighted about a half mile distant on the sea-ice. Taking the taboggin, which was painted white, from its concealment, he tied to its curved front a thin slab of snowy ice, and laying his gun behind it, approached the flock as near as possible, under cover of the hummocks. About three hundred yards of level ice still intervened, and lying down behind his snow-screen, he slowly moved his ingenious stalking-horse towards the flock. Had he understood the nature of the birds thoroughly, it is probable that his device would have succeeded splendidly; but when he was still about a hundred yards distant, the wary leader became suspicious, and gave a note of alarm. In an instant the whole flock, with outstretched necks, stood prepared for flight. Had he lain still, it is probable that the birds would have relaxed their suspicious watchfulness, and allowed him to get nearer; but thinking that he should lose all if he tried a nearer approach, he fired, killing one and wounding another, both of which were secured.