64 ^ Book of the Snipe. 



a wild growth of long rank grass. Having 

 climbed the first bank, steep enough to 

 make even an Irish hunter think twice 

 about it, we find ourselves in a field of 

 turnips, whose tops are not yet brown and 

 withered by the bite of frost. A covey of 

 partridges are the only denizens, of sufficient 

 strenorth to show that no cmns have been 

 at work splitting them up this year at any 

 rate. Snipe are here, too, sometimes, especi- 

 ally when a mild hour of a frosty day causes 

 the moisture to drip from the leaves on to 

 the hard ground, enabling the slender bill 

 of the bird to bore for worms in the welcome 

 moisture. 



The same remarks apply to the next en- 

 closure, a rape-field, though even to-day it 

 holds quite a number of snipe, including a 

 Jack or two. This field is much wetter than 

 the last, every furrow being half full of 

 water, the broad depression that divides it 

 forming quite a respectable little pond. It 

 was from the edges of this that most of the 

 birds rose, as you saw, very wild indeed. 



