158 O'er Crag and Torrent 



breakfast and a start betimes next morning. 

 At that time I had an old setter bitch, rejoic- 

 ing in the name of " Sally," who was a perfect 

 marvel on snipe. She was as quiet as a cat 

 on a bog, and when " roding" a snipe, if she 

 came to a pool of water would, in order to 

 avoid splashing and making a noise, carefully 

 creep round it and resume her line, though at 

 other times she seemed perfectly indifferent 

 whether she was in or out of water. So we 

 ordered Christy to meet us at the lodge with 

 " Sally." It turned out a fairly fine but 

 rather windy day, which was a nuisance 

 rather, as snipe twist so confoundedly in 

 wind. 



Having finished our breakfast, we made a 

 start, and an easy half-hour's walk brought us 

 to a small bog of about a hundred acres or 

 so. "G." (my brother) took the right, I the 

 left, and " Sally " was told to "hold up," but 

 before she had got into her stride a snipe 



