236 WILD spoETS m the south. 



spring he makes seems to toss him twenty feet in air, and 

 then a paiise, as he coUects his wings to strike out on 

 that erratic swinging motion that is his safety and beauty. 

 He eyes the array of pursuers behind him, and hears 

 their strange talking ; he sees before hun his accustomed 

 haunts and oozy swales, and hears the rustlmg of the 

 reeds that shelter his mates. In the pride of swiftness, 

 rings out his exulting cry, the same that had made vocal 

 the great morasses of the Coppermine River, where he 

 was nested, and the same by which, through the ghostly 

 night, in the upper air, from front, to rear, had kept in 

 rank the long flight of his kindred in their semi-annual 

 migration — " Escape !" 



Pang ! rings the clear shot, and over falls the wild bird 

 among the sedge. 



" Golly ! Missa Lou, yah ! ha ! he dead !" shouted one 

 of the negroes. " Makes dis child piccaninny agin to see 

 his young missus wake 'em up so !" said Big Sam. 



"Mark! Mark!" "Escape!" "Escape!" Two more 

 snipe sprung up, followed by two shots, and they fell 

 ahead of us in the grass, and then there arose three or 

 four together. The island seemed to be full of them, 

 and when raised, they would dodge about m long irregu- 

 lar circles, calling up others from the grass, until they 

 collected in whisps above us, and bore away to some 

 -adjoining islands. 



It was difficult to keep the line regular, for the negroes 

 were full of excitement in picking up wounded birds, 

 and seeing others spring beside them. Indeed, we 



