AMERICAN WOODCOCK 113 



eral days, and as the breeze out of the north- 

 west drove the broken rearguard of the storm 

 seaward I came into the woods. The sun was 

 setting and in the western sky the promise of 

 better weather was heralded in the red and gold 

 glowing on the cloud rims. As the daylight 

 faded and the enclosing walls of fir took on an 

 added gloom, I saw an occasional Woodcock 

 drop into an alder swamp which skirted the 

 edge of the woods. At times a pair, but oft- 

 ener a lone straggler dashed silently across the 

 sky from the wooded hills, and darted down to 

 feed in the thicket along the brook, and for a 

 short time there was good fun in the edges of 

 the cover, taking them as they came in or letting 

 my dog flush them and doing my best to ''snap" 

 them as they came up sharply outlined against 

 the sky. It was uncertain shooting and hard 

 to tell when the barrels were properly pointed. 

 In half an hour I could not see to shoot, but 

 went home content — two partridges and five 

 'cocks. I have tramped all day many a time 

 for less, but I dare not say how many birds 

 were missed in that short time. There was 

 evidently a flight on, and I promised myself 

 great fun on the morrow, but again, as all too 



