SNIPE. 127 



however, but reserved his last cartridge till he got two snipe crossing 

 each other, when he fired, and bagged them both, thus winning his 

 wager. 



So many people in Tientsin go snipe shooting that one hesitates 

 to give any personal anecdotes, but an article on snipe seems incom- 

 plete without a yarn or two. Will the old stagers excuse a description 

 of a day with the snipe, for the sake of those who are so unfortunate as 

 to be unable to indulge in what is one of the finest forms of sport 

 going ? 



Early one fine September morning a little party of us, three in num- 

 ber set off in rickshaws for the bridge which spans the canal behind the 

 Japanese barracks. There was my old friend Sin, a new acquaintance 

 and myself all eager for a good day's shooting. The crisp air blew 

 gently from the north, and it was just chilly enough to make us 

 thoroughly appreciate the first warm rays of the sun that pierced the 

 low mists enshrouding the town behind us. 



Bowling along at a good rate we soon reached the bridge, where 

 we engaged a sampan, and settling ourselves comfortably, allowed the 

 boatman to pull us up the canal towards the race-course at his own 

 rate. Three small boys had collared our belongings and sat proudly 

 in the stern, smoking cigarettes and chattering about the different 

 kinds of snipe, the best grounds to get them in, and the peculiarities 

 of the many Lao Yehs that came to shoot them; while we, comfort- 

 ably pulling at' our pipes, listened contentedly or called up remini- 

 scences of former sih'ooting trips. 



Presently we reached a spot, near which I had already been hav- 

 ing good sport with snipe, so we pulled- up to the bank and set off 

 towards some paddy fields. We began well. Two snipe getting up 

 were bagged by Sin and myself. These, however, were the last 

 we put up in this area, where but three days before I had bagged a 

 dozen in less than an hour, not including five which I shot, but could 

 not find in the tall reeds. 



At the suggestion of one of the small boys we returned to our 

 sampan, and continued up the canal. Presently turning more to the 

 west we passed the old railway embankment and continued for 

 another mile or so, finally pulling in to the bank once more near a 

 village called Shi-liu-chien-fang-tzu (Sixteen Rooms). Half a mile over 

 dried grass -covered ground brought us to some swamps and the fun 

 began. 



Sin neatly dropped a bird with his automatic. Next a fat snipe 

 got up in front of me. My second barrel knocked out a feather or 



