98 WILD FOWL SHOOTING. 
have done was, made them hunt snipe in such walking 
as this. Honestly, I believe I have dislocated my spine, 
pulled apart some of the ligaments of my body, and 
sprained my right ankle. Thunder! but I am tired.” 
I most certainly could not deny this assertion, and 
the heavy manner in which he dragged his weary legs 
along proved it. Poor fellow! I can imagine I see 
him now. 
‘“ Hark! What's that noise,” said he, “I have 
heard it for the last half-hour.” 
Directing his attention to a small speck in the air 
overhead, I replied: 
“The noise you hear is made by a jack-snipe. On 
warm, bright days, singly, sometimes two or three will 
arise to a great height, so high, indeed, that they be- 
come at times indistinct. When at an extreme height 
they describe a circle from fifty to eighty yards in 
diameter; then suddenly descend with the greatest 
rapidity for thirty or forty yards, then ascend again. 
The noise made is in their descent, caused, probably, by 
their wings cutting the air, making that strange, quiver- 
ing, tremulous sound you have heard so often to-day. 
Some hunters ascribe it to their becoming uneasy, and 
as an indication of their intending leaving for some 
other feeding ground. Others say it’s their way of 
courting, and the frank acknowledgment on the part of 
the male that he wishes to choose a mate. But the 
more practical hunters say they do it because they know 
they are the only bird that can do it with grace and 
rapidity—”’ 
“Ned,” said I, “ let’s get out of this.” 
We were in a place where the bogs were from one 
to three feet apart. 
