"Its markings are like the ordinary Canada wild-goose," Dr. Marvin
explained, "and it is about midway in size between a goose and a duck."

"I've shot a good many of the common wild-geese in my time," Mr. Marks
resumed; "killed nineteen four years ago. I once knocked down ten out of
a flock of thirteen by giving them both barrels. I have a flock of eight
now in a pond not far away--broke their wings, you know, and so they
can't fly. They soon become tame, and might be domesticated easily, only
you must always keep one wing cut, or they will leave in the spring or
fall."

"How is that?"

"Well, they never lose their instinct to migrate, and if they heard other
wild-geese flying over, they'd rise quick enough if they could and go
with them."

"Do you think there would be any profit in domesticating them?" asked
practical Leonard.

"There might be. I know a man up the river who used to cross them with
our common geese, and so produced a hybrid, a sort of a mule-goose, that
grew very large. I've known 'em to weigh eighteen pounds or more, and
they were fine eating, I can tell you. I don't suppose there is much in
it, though, or some cute Yankee would have made a business of it before
this."

"How many ducks do you suppose you have shot all together?" Mr. Clifford
asked.