248 Northern Observations of Inland Birds 



as well as during the shooting season, in order to learn 

 anything about it. One can learn a good deal about the 

 habits of partridges, pheasants, wild duck and so on 

 while in pursuit of them, but the sportsman who sees 

 the snipe only in winter is in a very poor position to 

 learn much about it. A buzz of wings, a startling ** scraep," 

 and away the bird goes twisting into the wind. That is 

 all one sees of him — a shy and retiring bird, whose ways 

 are a deadly secret. 



One of the most curious things in bird life is the 

 difference of attitude many birds show towards man at 

 the different seasons. This applies specially to the 

 waders, and perhaps most strongly to the snipe. The 

 snipe at its breeding haunts between April and August 

 is an entirely different bird from the snipe which gets 

 up before the sportsman in October and later. It is no 

 longer secretive in its ways, no longer given to crouching 

 fearfully at the sound of a footfall — in fact it is most 

 remarkable for its absolute fearlessness of man and 

 disregard for his presence. Over and above this it utters 

 many strange notes uttered at no other season, performs 

 acrobatic feats in the air unknown in winter, and generally 

 behaves itself in so mad and heedless a way that it is 

 one of the easiest birds to study. 



How many people have seen a snipe on the ground 

 when out shooting them ? Not one sportsman in a 

 thousand, I am prepared to assert, yet it is no difficult 

 matter to watch them feeding and flirting during the 

 nesting season. 



One May day a gamekeeper and I were seated near a 

 moorland swamp in the West Riding, when three snipe 

 alighted within eight yards of our feet. Their flight 

 was curious, and at first glance we mistook them for 

 redshanks. We were straight in view, and they could 

 not possibly have missed seeing us — indeed they several 



