On this pond, as on the other, water had gathered over the winter ice and then frozen again.
With the exception of this one gander, the flock was sitting there very still and quiet.

The gander waddled among the others, plucking at them with his pink beak, as if to stir them up.

Now and then he straightened up, flapped his wings and squalled dolorously.

None of the others I noticed flapped, stirred or made any movement whatever.

They looked as if they were asleep, and many of them had their heads under their wings.
At last I went out toward them on the new ice, which had now frozen solid enough to bear me.