WILSON’S SNIPE 135 
Snipe in the woods, along the brook-banks and 
in the drain-holes in the fields; perhaps be- 
cause the marshes are then swept bare of cover 
by the ice of winter. He is commonly content 
with the salt marshes alongshore in the fall mi- 
grations, but at any season will go into any 
place, whether marsh or upland, which can fur- 
nish him a square meal and a soggy, moist soil 
for his long bill to probe and bore into. You 
may meet him in many a seemingly unlikely 
spot: I remember how near I was to losing a 
fine shot at a Snipe because of too little confi- 
dence in my dog,—a youngster,—who was ap- 
parently pointing a flock of hens in a farmer’s 
dooryard, within twenty yards of the house and 
a mile at least from any snipe country. The 
puppy stood firm and refused to leave his post 
until his slow-witted master should come and 
do his part. I am glad to say that I did not 
disappoint my dog that time. 
When in our New England marshes one of 
October’s perfect days follows a sharp frost— 
and if the wind comes briskly out of the north- 
west it is no harm—such a day means that it is 
time to visit that stretch of mire and salt grass 
which you know affords the best cover for Snipe 
