bNIPE. 



dace leap high into the air, their silvery quivering bodies scattering 

 showers of crystal drops, ere the waters swallowed them again. All 

 nature was alive and moving to the accompaniment of the hum from 

 a myriad insect wings. 



As we lay and watched there came an ancient villager prodding 

 his way along the bank of the canal, up to his waist in water. With 

 a quick movement he drew from the water the writhing eel-like form 

 of a gigantic catfish, securely hooked on the end of a long bar. Placing 

 it in his basket, he turned his face towards the sound of our applauding 

 voices and lo ! he was blind. We might have guessed it. None 

 but the blind could have had sufficient delicacy of touch to 

 find so unerringly the slight dent in the muddy bank, whicn 

 alone marked the spot where the fish had buried itself. Next in- 

 stant a shining dace glistened for a moment between his fingers ere it 

 disappeared into the basket, to be followed shortly by a large crab. 

 Apparently satisfied with his day's catch, the old man crossed the 

 canal and was led away to the village by a tiny grandchild. 



At length rested and refreshed we returned to the snipe grounds, 

 and for the next two hours had all the shooting we wanted. My shoot- 

 ing had improved considerably, and I got several couple of snipe al- 

 most at once, but after a while the continual tramping in the soft mud 

 began to tell. In the last half hour I absolutely disgraced myself, 

 and finally when a wounded bird escaped me after six cartridges had 

 been expended on it, I gave up. My bag was now thirteen snipe and 

 four whimbrels. Some of my shots had pleased me very much, not- 

 ably one in which I brought down two snipe at once like the New 

 Yorker. 



My two companions also improved their shooting after lunch. 

 Sin added several more snipe to his bag and a couple of whimbrels. 

 Our friend was unlucky enough to run out of cartridges, when a con- 

 siderable distance away from either of us, and so was forced to watch 

 snipe after snipe get up and go without being able to attempt to stop 

 them. 



Finally we all met again at the sampan, had some tea, and then 

 started home. In spite of our bad shooting we had had a thoroughly 

 enjoyable day. The weather had been perfect, there had been no 

 lack of birds, and, after all, when the forty odd head were put together 

 they made a handsome enough looking bag. The journey home in 

 the cool of an ideal September evening, as we glided along the 

 numerous waterways, past tall and stately reeds, with the soft glow 

 of the sinking sun lighting up their feathery tops, was by no means 

 the least enjoyable part of a typical day's outing after snipe. 

 s 17 



