But in spite of the ever-present danger Honker kept his flock there, for food was good and plentiful, and he had faith in himself, and his flock had faith in him. So they lingered, until a driving snow squall warned them that they must be moving. Keeping just ahead of the on-coming winter, they journeyed south, and at every stopping-place they found men and guns waiting. There was no little pond so lonely but that death might be lurking there. Sometimes the call of their own kind would come up to them. Looking down, they would see geese swimming in seeming security and calling to them to come down and join them. More than once Honker set his wings to accept the invitation, only to once more beat his way upward as his keen eyes detected something amiss on the shore. And so Tommy learned the baseness of man who would use their own kind to decoy them to death. Came at last a sudden swift advance of cold weather which forced them to fly all night. When day broke, they were weary of wing, and, worse, the air was thick with driving snow. For the first time, Tommy beheld Honker uncertain. He still led the flock, but he led he knew not where, for in the driving snow none could see. Low they flew now, but a little way above the earth, making little progress against the driving storm, and so weary of wing that it was all they could do to keep their heavy bodies up. It was then that the welcome honk of other geese came up to them, and, heading in the direction of the calling voices and honking back their distress, they discovered water below, and gladly, oh, so gladly, set their wings and dropped down into this haven of refuge. Hardly had the first ones hit the water when, bang! bang! bang! bang! the fateful guns roared, and when, out of the confusion into which they were thrown, they once more gathered behind their old leader far out in the middle of the pond, some of the flock were missing. In clear weather they flew high, and it happened on such a day that, as Tommy looked down, there stirred within him a strange feeling. Below stretched a green forest with broad meadows beyond, and farther still an old brush-grown pasture. Somehow it was wonderfully familiar. Eagerly he looked. There should be something more. Ah, there it was--an old gray boulder overlooking the meadows! Like a magnet, it seemed to draw Tommy down to itself. “_Honk, honk, honk, k’honk!_” Tommy heard the call of his old leader faintly, as if from a distance. “_Honk, honk, honk, k’honk, honk, k’honk, honk!_” Tommy opened his eyes and rubbed them confusedly. Where was he? “_Honk, honk, honk, k’honk, honk, k’honk!_” He looked up. There, high in the blue sky, was a living wedge pointing straight into the North, and the joy of the spring was in the wild clamor that came down to him.