own in the water when he wants to, with nothing but his head
out. I envy him that. It would be a lot easier for us Geese to escape
the dreadful hunters if we could sink down that way."

"Has he a bill like yours?" asked Peter innocently.

"Of course not," replied Honker. "Didn't I tell you that he lives on
fish? How do you suppose he would hold on to his slippery fish if he had
a broad bill like mine? His bill is stout, straight and sharp pointed.
He is rather a handsome fellow. He is pretty nearly as big as I am,
and his back, wings, tail and neck are black with bluish or greenish
appearance in the sun. His back and wings are spotted with white, and
there are streaks of white on his throat and the sides of his neck.
On his breast and below he is all white. You certainly ought to get
acquainted with Dippy, Peter, for there isn't anybody quite like him."

"I'd like to," replied Peter. "But if he never comes to shore, how can
I? I guess I will have to be content to know him just by his voice. I
certainly never will forget that. It's about as crazy sounding as the
voice of Old Man Coyote, and that is saying a great deal."

"There's one thing I forgot to tell you," said Honker. "Dippy can't fly
from the land; he must be on the water in order to get up in the air."

"You can, can't you?" asked Peter.

"Of course I can," replied Honker. "Why, we Geese get a lot of our food
on land. When it is safe to do so we visit the grain fields and pick up
the grain that has been shaken out during harvest. Of course we couldn't
do that if we couldn't fly from the land. We can rise from either land
or water equally well. Now if you'll excuse me, Peter, I'll take a nap.
My, but I'm tired! And I've got a long journey to-morrow."

So Peter politely bade Honker and his relatives good-night and left them
in peace on the sandy bar in the Big River.

CHAPTER XXXIX. Peter Discovers Two Old Friends.

Rough Brother North Wind and Jack Frost were not far behind Honker the
Goose. In a night Peter Rabbit's world was transformed. It had become
a new world, a world of pure white. The last laggard among Peter's
feathered friends who spend the winter in the far-away South had hurried
away. Still Peter was not lonely. Tommy Tit's cheery voice greeted Peter
the very first thing that morning after the storm. Tommy seemed to be in
just as good spirits as ever he had been in summer.

Now Peter rather likes the snow. He likes to run about in it, and