The gander rose in the air and circled overhead, squalling fearfully.

On going nearer, I saw that all those geese were frozen in, and that they were dead; the entire flock, except that one powerful old gander, had perished there.

They were frozen in the ice so firmly that I could not pull them out; in fact, I could scarcely bend the necks of those that had tucked them under their wings.
I counted forty-one of them besides the gander.
While I was looking them over, Tom and Addison appeared on the shore.
They had waked and missed me, but, hearing the gander, had guessed that I had gone to the pond.

Both were astonished and could hardly believe their eyes till they came out where I stood and tried to lift the geese.
"We shall have to chop them out with the axe!" Tom exclaimed.

"By jingo, boys, here's goose feathers enough to make two feather beds and pillows to boot." The gander, still squalling, circled over us again.
"The old fellow feels bad," Addison remarked.