SNIPE-SHOOTING. 119 



of this little falcon, as it is the result of my own 

 observation, although in a part of the British 

 Islands very remote from that in which I now 

 write. 



Some years ago, when snipe-shooting on a 

 range of strictly preserved bogs in the west of 

 Ireland, the merlin was, I may say, my daily com- 

 panion. I find, by reference to memoranda of 

 that date, that I commenced operations in the 

 beginning of November, generally taking the field 

 about eleven o'clock in the morning, and bagging 

 on an average from ten to twenty couple of snipes 

 during the day, besides a few hares, woodcocks and 

 wild ducks. I well remember the first time the 

 merlin made his appearance with the obvious in- 

 tention of sharing my sport. I had just entered 

 one of those wet moors surrounded by partially 

 cultivated land which in favourable weather are 

 much more productive of sport than the extensive 

 " red bogs," when a couple of snipe rose near the 

 margin. Bang, bang, went both my barrels, 

 and while one bird fell dead, the other, slightly 

 but perceptibly wounded, ascended to a consider- 

 able height, and from the direction of its flight 

 was evidently preparing to drop in a marsh which 

 I had just left. While my eyes were fixed upon 

 its movements, I perceived a merlin advancing 

 rapidly towards it, and struggling through the air, 



