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was what its name implies, a lonely lake up in Labrador, which is certainly a lonely country. It was the summer breeding ground of the Gray Squadron. It had been the summer quarters for the Canada wild goose for untold ages, but at the time of our story, their numbers had somewhat diminished, so there were about a hundred geese upon the lake. It was beautifully situated with woods upon one side and open country on the other. Feed was always abundant, and it was far from the haunts of men. Of course there were the natural enemies such as mink and the fox to combat, also the elements, but altogether it was an ideal breeding place.

The Gray Squadron had come back to the lake the April before with its ranks badly de-