164 A Book of the Snipe. 



all parts of the bog crowds of screaming 

 snipe rose like a noisy exhalation, and, making 

 invariably straight for the shoulder of a 

 mountain, disappeared from view, leaving 

 not half a dozen of their kind behind. I 

 tried them down the wind, against the wind, 

 across the wind ; sometimes I walked slowly 

 and carefully, sometimes endeavoured to sur- 

 prise them with a rush, always with the same 

 failure. Then I posted a sharp-eyed man 

 up on the mountain, and, after insulting him 

 by not believing his report, went there my- 

 self whilst he flushed the birds. Neither 

 he nor I was ever able to mark down 

 even a solitary individual of that tremendous 

 wisp. 



At last I determined to try a drive. One 

 rough windy day, with infinite caution, I made 

 my way to a point up-wind, in the hopes that 

 a greater part of the flock at least would be 

 forced to pass over my head as they fought 

 with the gale. My man remained on the 

 down-wind side, with orders to advance to- 

 wards me slowly, and with as little noise as 



