|
February 3, 2005  Mild Goose Chase On January 28th I received an interesting phone call from Darlene at Green Lake. I came to know Darlene about 2 years ago, about this time of year, when she called to say someone saw a Barn Swallow flying around and then later found it dead in an outbuilding. This incredible story, of a Swallow returning to the Cariboo in early February, amazed many people in the area. I would even go so far as to say some birders were skeptical. Shortly after, Darlene passed the dead bird on to me and I put it in the hands of some birders from Williams Lake who had connections to an raptor centre where the bird might get some scrutiny. But, this time, Darlene wasn’t calling about a Barn Swallow. Instead she called to alert me about a possible Blue Goose sighting at Horn’s field, saying that one of her relatives saw it the day before. I hung up the phone and quickly dug out my scope which has been resting its lenses since last fall. Soon I was speeding towards Horse Lake. Learning about such an interesting sighting a day late didn’t bode well for catching a glimpse of the bird in question but, without doubt or hope, I scanned the patchy fields, drove, and attempted to maintain something close to the speed limit. Luckily there was no traffic behind me so I was able to scrutinize the fields for goose-sized curious dark bumps. By the time I arrived at Skaday Bridge I’d seen nothing significant so I circled around and parked on a snow free road leading to an equally snow-free yard with a hay barn. I was pulling myself and my gear out the driver’s side of the van when I heard a dog barking at me quite loudly. This was odd because the nearest house was several hundred feet away. I looked over the roof of the van and saw a dog standing some distance out in the field barking in my direction. I thought that this was an odd activity for a dog so far from home so I set up the scope and scanned the scene. By now the dog was sitting down and to its left I could see a large dead brown and white bird lying on the snow. This had to be the mystery goose. I was curious but I had no intention of marching over to a barking dog and trying to relieve it of its catch, so I waited. Nothing happened for several minutes so I moved around behind the barn to a spot that gave me an unrestricted view of the proceedings. The dog lost interest in me and laid down with its head on its paws and stared at the dead bird from about 8 feet away. On several occasions it looked as if it might leave but each time two or three Ravens appeared overhead and the dog returned. At one point the dog gently grabbed the foot of the dead bird and looked as if it might move it to a more secure location. It gave up the idea and laid down again. Meanwhile, I stood patiently. The weather was quite pleasant, a warm breeze blew from the south, and the sun gave a good account of itself, although at this time of year it was still quite low on the horizon. I returned my gaze again and again to the scope’s eyepiece but the dog wasn’t going anywhere. Suddenly, and at first I paid it no mind, I saw the skimming flight of a small bird beyond where the dog was encamped. While I watched, the flying speck hove into my field of view once again. This time I followed its flight with the scope. It was dark on the upper side, lighter below, with a dark throat. There was no doubt about it; it was a Barn Swallow. Though it lacked the long outer tail feathers that form the diagnostic ‘swallow tail’ and was paler underneath than typical adult birds, it was, without doubt, a Barn Swallow. Here it was January 28th and I was watching while a Barn Swallow skimmed over frozen pasture ponds as if it was a day in May. I contented myself with watching this amazing sight. Finally the dog left, making its way across the large field, crossing the road, then disappearing from sight. I stepped carefully over the fence and strode towards the dead bird. It was a Goose. But not a Blue Goose, nor even what might be expected, a Canada Goose. The dead bird looked remarkably like a White-fronted Goose. I pondered what to do with the carcass. Seeing that it was freshly dead, I decided to take it home to photograph and measure. As I got the scope and the goose into the van the Ravens dropped down to the spot where the Goose had been. I felt a little cheap denying the Ravens their food but I had information to collect. I drove home pondering what might have happened with the mystery goose. The best scenario I could put together was that a wild Goose came north too soon, and after standing around frozen fields, died of exposure or lack of food. Another possibility was that in a weakened state and unable to fly, the goose had been killed by the dog. I didn’t think coyotes had a hand in the Goose’s death because I’m sure they wouldn’t have left it out in the middle of a field for Ravens or other scavengers. Shortly after making several photos of the dead Goose a different picture emerged. The flight feathers of the mystery bird were all white. This didn’t jibe with any wild Goose description in any of the books I consulted. Finally, a new scenario seemed likely, and a question surfaced. Was this a domestic Goose? Was this someone’s barnyard Goose that had wandered out in an open field and succumbed to nature’s forces? It now seemed very possible and if this was the case, I realized that the dog’s activities around the dead goose were completely misread by me. It was now likely that the dog was a yard-mate of the Goose. The dog wasn’t guarding a meal, or a thing it had killed, but was more likely trying to keep all the world from bothering its now lifeless pal. In the light of the new information, the dog’s vigilance over the body seemed noble indeed, and certainly sad. I had through deduction lost the wild Goose chase, however, guided by a call from Darlene, I had recorded another middle-of-winter Barn Swallow sighting. Barn Swallow numbers have declined at an alarming rate in recent years. Could their showing up in the Cariboo in January and February be a contributing factor to the drop in population? I’m sure it’s much more complicated than that but surely these mid winter visits can’t be helping. To e-mail Tom CLICK HERE To look at previous column CLICK HERE |
