_Nesting Canada Geese._
In 1907, the third year I had my clipped Canadas, one pair nested, and
every season since I have had one to three pairs raise young. This is
the very time these old ganders especially expose their incomparable,
clean, noble ways which even we human beings might well envy them.
One spring I had a painter from town out here brightening things up a
little, so one day I told him to paint the cornice of the bird house,
which is about seven feet high. I paid no more attention to him, but
went on with my work at the tile factory, about three hundred feet away.
All at once I heard a scream that was joined with language too loud to
look well in print. I got out just in time to see this scared man come
rolling over the brick wall, his legs and arms sticking up like odd
sections in a Ferris-wheel. To see and hear him wrinkled my red face
into a broader position; he came towards me with both torn shirt-sleeves
fluttering in the wind and white paint dabbled on one leg of his
trousers, without either hat, paint, pail or pipe. He began to reel it
off. Then it all came to me in a flash that I had forgotten to tell him
about the goose nest that was concealed in the weeds near that spot. And
now it was too late to give him any explanation for really he did not
know whether he was bitten or stung. While he was not hurt a particle,
he was nearly frightened into fits, and he could not, or would not,
believe there were only two geese there. I finally went and found his
pipe, Christy hat and paint pail, but he never would go back in that
enclosure, and worse still, I doubt if he has ever forgiven me as he
thought I put up a job on him.
One picture would do for all the pairs of Canada geese I ever saw
nesting. While the gander takes no part in building the nest nor
setting, turn about, on the eggs, as some birds do, yet he is always
guarding her and is never over two rods away, seeing all enemies before
they do him. He will usually lie flat on the ground, his black neck and
snake-like head straight out, and if any creature goes right on by, all
is well; but should one note him and stop then he will suddenly jump on
it from an unexpected quarter. His looks and hissing honks will almost
frighten any other creature into decline; and while frightening is his
chief defence, yet I know from personal experience how he can bite and
hang on like a bull pup while he deals unbelievably heavy blows with the
first joint of his powerful wings. The worst blow I ever got in my life
was from an old gander that I caught to tag; he struck me on the jaw
with the first joint of his doubled-up wings and believe me, I had the
mumps for weeks.
[Illustration:
ON GUARD
This photograph shows a faithful gander guarding his sweetheart while
nesting. He is telling me in plain goose language: “I don’t care if
you are Jack Miner. Don’t you come one foot nearer or I will break
your camera.” And past experience caused me to take his word for
it.]
While I have seen the goose run at a domestic fowl or so, yet she does
not pretend to do much fighting. She usually leaves that strenuous
exercise for him, and depends on his protection; and well she may, for
he never fails her. He will even leave his family and fight for her.
A pair once nested near the tile kiln and a collie dog attacked this
gander. The goose won out, but the dog bit the end of his backbone right
off. I saw the blood running down his legs and in a few days I noticed
he was always in the one place, lying down by his sweetheart. I went
over and found he was sick and so weak he let me pick him up. I saw what
was wrong, so I went and got the turpentine bottle and poured some in
this decaying cavity and fully a spoonful of maggots rolled out. I then
brought the dear old fellow water and food, but it was fully a week
before he could stand up. He finally got well, and I still have him, but
he was dying at his post. His name is Tom Johnson.
[Illustration:
A GALLANT VETERAN
This photograph shows Tom Johnson guarding his mate as she turns the
eggs. Note the disfigured tail feathers, which never grew in
properly after his fight with the collie dog.]
I never saw the wild geese go near where one of these pairs was nesting.
So one spring I took fully ten bushels of corn and scattered it around
near a nest. And the thousands of geese that came here would not combine
their forces and go near, after the corn, or, interfere with his
preserve, but would prefer flying all over the country to feed where
some of them are continually getting shot. This will explain to you how
they respect each others’ rights.
[Illustration:
WITH THE LITTLE ONES BETWEEN
As soon as the young are hatched, the gander always guards them from
the opposite side. In other words, if the young are west of her, he
will be west of them again, keeping the young between the parents.
Note the roll of Tom Johnson’s eye.]