Iparabtse Circle 



Give the bird a chance, say the gun- 

 bearers. Well, the archer gives it ten 

 chances at the very least. In the first 

 place, there is the well-nigh impossible 

 task of seeing a quail, a woodcock, a snipe, 

 or any other hiding bird before it rises, 

 while it is usually quite easy to make it 

 fly up so that an ounce or more of shot 

 may be whirled at it. Then, after the 

 archer has cleverly spied out his game, 

 almost undistinguishable amid the grass 

 and leaves, what a thin chance he has to 

 bag it! 



In the present case I did not succeed, 

 so far as discovery went. A long and pa- 

 tient scrutiny of the spot where the wood- 

 cock lay hiding gave not a glimpse of 

 feather or beak; and when at last my 

 foot slipped in the slightest way, crushing 

 a dry weed with a snap, up sprang the 

 shining brown bird, squeaking keenly, its 

 strong wings purring Hke silk banners 

 blown by a fresh wind. What followed 

 was a rare accident or a marvelous shot. 

 I prefer the latter solution. Nor was I 

 without a witness to my skill. At fifteen 

 42 



