Dangerous Migration

The young goose was skimming over the still waters of Bear Lake. Suddenly, the world exploded around it.

A man jumped up, seemingly from nowhere. "Great work, Nancy, we got him!"

A second later, a woman appeared from within the camouflaged blind. "Let's get busy then, Reed. We need to tag at least five more before they head south."

Carefully the two researchers untangled the goose from the net, and put it aside to reload in the specialized gun after the bird had been released.

Afterwards, they tagged it, recorded its weight and condition, etc.

"Fly free, little 9595," Nancy said, as she opened her hands. The two stood silently for a moment, and watched the bird return to the water.

Four days later, as if by some invisible signal, all of the geese took flight just before dawn.

At sunrise, Reed stepped out of the van to make breakfast. But first, he went for a short stroll to his favorite lookout spot by the lake. "Nancy! The geese are gone, sorry, it'll have to be granola for breakfast," he shouted.

"That's okay, we had a good supper. I'll start packing, bet I can get done before you're back!" she shouted back, laughing.

Grinning, Reed trotted back to the van.

"Seems I'm a little too fast for you," he said triumphantly, as he grabbed the last folding chair, and put it in the back.

Later in the day, Nancy looked at a small GPS unit as Reed drove. "The tracker says they went about fifty miles. They've stopped at Deer Marsh," she informed him.

"Then that's where we'll stop too."

"Deer Marsh might be great for geese, but I'll be happy to say goodbye to it! It's little more than a swamp filled with mosquitoes," Reed complained as he slapped his arm.

"I won't miss it either," replied Nancy, waving her hands around her head.

Luckily for the two researchers, the geese didn't linger.

"Where to?" asked Reed, eagerly pointing the van towards the highway.

"They're still flying, we'll just have to wait and see where they land," she replied.

Reed grimaced. "I hope it's not another swamp!"

"Me too," Nancy agreed as she scratched her neck.

The geese finally stopped.

"Lake Fixings. What an odd name," mused Nancy.

"Anything that doesn't contain the words marsh or swamp sound good to me," Reed replied.

The lake was well off the beaten path, down a long, winding trail. It was meant more for ATV's than vans. But with care, the faithful vehicle made it.

"This place is beautiful!" exclaimed Nancy.

Reed whistled in appreciation. "I wouldn't mind having a cabin here one day."

After they set up camp, the two hiked up a small hill. Together they sat watching the sunset. Suddenly a shot rang out, and the geese took flight. Several dropped back into the water, amidst a flurry of gunfire.

Reed looked at Nancy, frowning. "The season's closed for this area," he said in a low voice.

"Yeah... I wonder if they're aware of that?" she whispered.

The two got on their stomachs, then crawled over to a nearby cluster of blueberry bushes. Well hidden, they watched two men make their way towards the lake.

One of them wordlessly went into a thicket of dead brush, and emerged pulling a small boat. The camouflage paint had made it virtually invisible, even in the open.

"It looks like a good haul, Vroom. What do you think we'll get for them, with people starting to think about Thanksgiving?"

"Should be a lot, Woody. We'll start high and negotiate with this batch. If they argue too much, we'll just point out that we're risking our necks by hunting out of season."

The two researchers looked at each other. Despite being hundreds of yards away, each word had traveled clearly.

Nancy put her lips close to Reed's ear. "We have to get out of here, and alert Fish and Game," she whispered.

Reed nodded.

They slowly began their descent, keeping the little hill between them and the lake.

Once closer, they used the woods as cover, careful to keep low.

"Let's just leave our camp. I don't want them to hear us packing up," whispered Reed.

Nancy nodded, and the two got in the van, while the poachers were still on the water.

Reed started the van, and pulled away. "I'm glad we camped out of view of the lake. Maybe they'll never know we were there," he said, still whispering despite being inside with the windows up.

Out on Fixings Lake, the two poachers looked up. Vroom scooped up the last goose, then picked up both oars. "Woody, we need to get back to shore now."

As soon as they were in shallow water, the two men jumped out, and began dragging the craft towards the brush.

"Leave the birds and guns. They'll never find it, and if they do we can claim it's not ours," ordered Vroom.

Once the boat was hidden, they went to a spot in the woods with thick cover, and watched for several minutes.

"I don't hear it anymore, Woody. And I didn't see anyone, did you?"

"No, but someone was here, and maybe still is. Let's go have a look."

Vroom nodded. "Exactly what I was thinking."

Vroom sighed, then punched a fist into his palm. "We did have some visitors, and they left their gear. Let's get back to the cabin, and grab the four wheelers."

But we'll never catch them?"

"I'm pretty sure it was a car or truck, and they'll have to take it slow. Grab the guns, Woody. We'll come back later for the geese."

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*"To be continued!

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To read part two, click here

Describe what you see:
I see a goose, flying free over calm water.

Describe what you feel:
I feel like goose is happy.

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