Sincerely yours,
E. Renouf.
In 1919, Mr. Sainsbury of Toronto, one of our Canadian explorers, was in Baffin Land. There he ran across some Esquimaux with a goose that had my tag on it. They were superstitious about the goose, but when Mr. Sainsbury explained it to them, they tore its skin off, and ate the goose, raw. This is away north of timber line, where the Esquimaux eat their meat raw. The dot on the map showing the migration of the geese, away to the north of Hudson Bay, is where Mr. Sainsbury pointed out the place to me on his map.
RETURNED DUCK AND GOOSE TAGS
The rolled tags appear exactly as when taken from the legs of the geese.
CHAPTER XXIX.
Catching and Tagging the Wild Goose.
This was a proposition that tested my staying qualities to a standstill, although it is true I had tagged lots of smaller birds, including the wild ducks; but that was like coaxing candy from a baby, too easy to be interesting.
Yes, some one has said, “the silly old goose!” But bear in mind that it is through this silly old goose’s ability to outwit the human race that there is one living; we would have killed and eaten them all, long ago, but they outwitted us and went over the top. So if they are silly, what is our number, if you please?
Well, silly or not, it took my little, single-cylinder brain over seven years to outwit them. Actually I studied them more than I did my financial obligations, and that’s saying a whole lot. Very true, they will allow me to walk among them, and odd, wounded ones have eaten from my hand. But don’t hold him, or interfere with his liberties, as one note from his beak will alarm all the geese within a mile.
In November, 1919, there were fifty-five ducks feeding here and when I pulled the trip-wire I caught fifty of them; but the “silly old goose” would walk by and say “A-h-h! A-h-h!” and my family would say “Ha! Ha!” The variety of contrivances I made during these seven years! And the blisters there were on my hands during that time, caused from cutting and fitting gas-pipe frames and trap-doors and stretching poultry netting over the same, are blisters I will long remember. Then to see the geese come, glance at it and walk away, would make any human being feel small enough to pass a ferret in a gun-barrel. In fact this got to be a family joke. Little Jasper said, “Papa, how many goose nets are you going to make this summer?” Yes, I am a firm believer in the words, “Let man have dominion over all,” but in this case I have surely been a poor actor.