SNIPE SHOOTING. 101 



cannot get across there, because of the mud ; we must 

 not leave without investigating it, and Don must help 

 us out." 



Sending the dog on, and directing him by motion, I 

 continued my conversation with Ned. 



" Now, watch him ! How's that ? Look how stealthily 

 he goes along, no chance for a long swinging lope in 

 that deep mud. Watch him ! how he goes, lialf lope, half 

 ti'ot. Steady, old boy ! How's that for a point, Ned ? " 

 Don had drawn on to a snipe. The indistinct scent 

 would have made undecided a less staunch and experi- 

 enced dog. Not so with him. That faint scent was to 

 him almost the breath of life. There he stood, motion- 

 less, as if carved of stone. It seemed as though the 

 scent of the snipe had petrified him. He stood leaning 

 forward, seeming in anticipation as if from the hidden 

 depths of the marsh the snipe might suddenly arise be- 

 fore we were ready. Half crouching, he dared not step 

 backward, lest the noise might frighten the bird. He 

 dared not look at us, lest once doing so he might lose 

 the faint scent of the snipe ; and thus undecided, yet 

 decided, he stood a picture of life, once seen never to be 

 forgotten. His nose was held high in air, as if to in- 

 voke the assistance of the mild fresh breeze to help him 

 retain the scent. His ears were slightly cocked, as if 

 some slight noise might disclose to him the hiding-place 

 of the wary bird. He looked steadily before him, the 

 pupils of his eyes dilating, entranced by the scent of 

 the hidden object. His tail stood out straight behind 

 him, like a rod of iron ; no lashing of it now, from side 

 to side, until at times the tip was red with blood, from 

 reeds and rushes, from grass and brush beating against 

 his sturdy sides. His left fore foot raised until its ball 



