WILSON’S SNIPE 141 
At this you beat up the grass in front and on 
either side, quartering in all directions, but still 
no Snipe, and in wonder and disgust you are 
tempted to give it up, your faith in your favor- 
ite sorely shaken. But the dog stands firm, and 
just here you plunge thigh deep into a hidden 
drain-hole. ‘‘Scaipe! Scaipe!’’ Up between 
your feet with startled squeak springs the ob- 
ject of your search. Away like a streak the lit- 
tle gray imp goes, darting, dodging and zig- 
zagging, now right, now left, and all the time 
adding to the distance between himself and the 
threatening danger. You wrench yourself up 
to the solid ground with a desperate effort and 
pull yourself together, for it will never do now 
to let him get away unscathed, and when by 
some unaccountable accident you 
‘“Hustle him down wi’ a slug in his wing,’’ 
(for they do sometimes blunder into a charge 
of shot), before he is added to the collection in 
your game bag let us look at his markings and 
peculiarities. The pup has retrieved him beau- 
tifully, sitting up to deliver the prize into your 
hand with scarcely a feather ruffled. You han- 
dle him with much satisfaction for he is a good 
bird and you feel that you have fairly earned 
