Some Hermits of the Marsh 



It begins oftentimes in the gray dawn, be 

 fore you can see the bird at all; and after 

 the sun is fairly up you seldom hear it. The 

 arrow-like drop of the bird, from a height 

 where he is a mere speck in the sky, is a 

 beautiful sight. The beholder wonders how, 

 after all his gyrations, he knows exactly 

 where to drop in that wilderness of marsh 

 to reach the side of his listening love. 



If you have a pair of rubber boots, and 

 can endure the severe labor of wading about 

 in the marsh, you may soon flush one or 

 a pair of these snipe. They rise with a 

 hoarse squeak, that suggests the sucking 

 sound of a boot drawn quickly out of the 

 mud, and dart away in swift, twisting flight 

 "corkscrew," the sportsmen call it that 

 is verily like "a streak of lightning in feath 

 ers." I have seen one of them dodge a hawk 

 in this way, until the fierce bird of prey gave 

 up the chase in despair. Gunners are often 

 foiled by the quick, irregular flight of the 

 snipe, and find it the hardest of all game- 

 birds to bring to bag. 



The plumage of the snipe is a beautifully 

 mottled gray and brown, the under parts 

 several shades lighter than the upper. It 



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