Common Snipe 83 



Mere I have often seen a Redshank perched on telegraph wires, 

 keeping a secure foothold without dithculty. 



So it is with the Snipe, and more so ; in these particular marshes 

 I have seen them, not once or twice, but continually, perch on trees, 

 and those selected are always the tallest in the neighbourhood. 



But, and it is an important but, they always select a bare, leafless 

 tree, and best of all, I think, they like one that is dead and sapless. 



Ten years ago there were hardly any dead trees near the marsh 

 but there was one that had been struck by lightning. All the top 

 had been killed, while the lower part made a feeble effort to put 

 forth a few stunted branches, and in those days this was the only 

 tree I ever saw the Snipe perch on. 



When the sea broke through, the trees were killed by scores ; 

 and now you may see a dozen Snipe perching on one or other of them, 

 in the course of an hour's observation. 



The object to be gained, the instinct which induces them to 

 choose these elevated positions, is not far to seek. 



The Passerine bird seeks the shelter in the leafy tree for safety 

 and concealment, to see and not be seen. The Snipe selects the 

 bare lofty tree for exactly converse reasons. He is on outpost 

 dutv, and his business is to see all that can be seen ; to obtain a 

 better view of the marsh and surroundings where his nest lies, and 

 to give the earliest warning of any danger threatening. He is 

 not concerned with his own safety, which lies in flight, not in 

 concealment. 



Snipe, however, at this season of the year seem to change their 

 character, and in a large measure to lose their natural fear of man. 

 Their thoughts are bent on courtship, and little they care for any- 

 thing else when the love-fever is at its height. 



The Hare is naturally a timid and fearful animal, but he throws 

 most of his fear away in the spring ; and you may see, as you stand 

 on a piece of bare, open common, two bucks in pursuit of a doe, 

 apparently blind to every tiling but the object they have in view. 



It may be, if you remain motionless, they will pursue the doe 

 right up to your feet, and round and round in circles about you. 

 Even if you call out with the deliberate object of scaring them, 

 they only alter their course a little, move 20 or 30 yards further away 

 and continue their amatory dallyings. 



They are blind and deaf to everything but the one all-powerful 

 instinct wliich drives them towards the reproduction of their kind. 



And so it is with the Snipe. Here is an extract from my diary, 

 7th April, 1892. " Thorpe Fen. Many Snipe drumming and 

 " uttering the jick-jack note. Three, presumably two males and a 

 " female, suddenly pitched down quite close to my feet on an 

 " absolutely bare patch of ground. They were perfectly careless 

 " of my presence, though they must have seen me unless they were 

 " blind. The males, or the two birds I supposed to be males, were 

 " amorously displaying themselves before the female ; she, on her 



