The Wizard, of tbe Wetlands 53 



the mud with a resounding spat. It was a great 

 shot, and Tom's emphatic " Broke its own neck " 

 was merely his way of expressing keen appre- 

 ciation. 



For an hour after this there was very pretty 

 shooting. The birds were nicely distributed, rising 

 singly and well within range, and only a trio prov- 

 ing the truth of the oft-repeated " Scaip scaip ! " 

 Finally a missed bird pitched in a broad patch of 

 short stuff, which showed a springlike greenness, 

 and Tom turned after it. 



" Look out there ! Where the mischief ye goin' ? " 

 I yelled ; but it was too late. In an instant, it 

 seemed, he was down and floundering, and the 

 whoop he uttered might have been heard for 

 miles. If any of my readers have attempted to run 

 in snipe ground, they will understand my task. 

 Luckily it was short. To skin out of the coat, drop 

 gun and hat upon it, and start for him, was the work 

 of very few seconds. His face was ghastly white, 

 and the treacherous ooze was up to his belt, and he 

 was slowly sinking. After his first wild scramble, 

 he had wisely ceased all effort, but he was scared 

 clear through. So was I, for that matter, for it was 

 a nasty situation. He had his gun, but I dared not 

 venture near enough for that to be of use ; besides, 

 I questioned if either of our grips would stand the 

 pull upon such poor holding. 



The belt and corduroys ! Glory be ! 'Twas a 

 noble inspiration Nay ! The very thing I was 

 panting for such things are made long for six- 

 footers. Those who have attempted to take off 

 trousers while standing on snipe ground will under- 



