Your speech betrays you.
"Wild geese! They are early this year.

Ho, there! good companions that you are, come down and let me shoot at you.

'Crake! crake!' that is all you say--away up there in the white clouds, laughing at me, I suppose, and making fun of my bow.

Listen! they are answering me from the clouds! I wish I could fly up in the clouds! Travelling, as I live, away off to the south!--leaving us to go and join their fellows.
They are wild birds; I've shot many of em'.

Hark, Longears! see up there! There they go--'crake! crake! crake!' I can see their long necks stretched out toward the South--they are almost gone--going away from me--like Redbud!" And Verty sighed piteously.
"I wonder what makes my breast feel as if there was a weight upon it," he said, "I'll ask _ma mere_." And putting spurs to Cloud, Verty scoured through the pine hills, and in an hour drew near his home.
It was one of those mountain huts which are frequently met with to this day in our Virginian uplands.