A SNIPE HUNT IN FLORIDA. 



R. J. TOTTEN. 



" Well, are you going to sleep all day? " 

 called a voice out of the darkness. I rubbed 

 my eyes. " Dark as blazes ; but I guess I 

 would better get up." I dressed in a hurry, 

 and gathered my traps, consisting of a 12- 

 bore hammerless, a hunting coat, and a pair 

 of hip waders. Andy had some coffee and 

 ham ready, so we breakfasted, and put up a 

 good lunch. Soon we were off, thinking of 

 the big bags we were going to get — perhaps. 



We had been rivals in a friendly way a 

 long time, Andy and I. We had hunted 

 over most of the Southern States together, 

 and it is an open question as to which had 

 been most successful. 



Just at daybreak, after a 2-mile tramp, we 

 came to a chain of ponds and marshes, such 

 as you find only in Florida. 



We separated ; Andy taking the right 

 side and I the left. Warily I moved along, 

 expecting every moment to hear the 

 " scaip," and see the twisting flash of a 

 jack snipe darting away. I could hear 

 Andy in some other marsh, banging away. 



" Scaip— whiz— bang ! " " Hang it," I 

 finished, as I made a clean miss. But I 

 marked him down, and, after reloading, 

 started for him. Hardly had I moved from 

 the spot when a snipe rose almost at my 

 feet, and started toward the left. Bang ! 

 u Got him anyway," I muttered, as I picked 

 him up. As I advanced, 2 more rose. I 

 took a quick snap right and left, and, by 

 good luck, got them both. Gradually I 

 worked around to the pond, where I was to 

 meet Andy. Snipe were thick, and I got all 

 the sport I was looking for ; missing some 

 and hitting some. As I neared the meeting 

 place, I saw 2 mallards swimming on the 



pond. I dropped on my knee in an in- 

 stant, exchanged the No. 9 shells in my gun 

 for 6's, and began to stalk the ducks. Closer 

 and closer I got, when, at the distant report 

 of Andy's gun, up rose the ducks, and came 

 directly toward me. Catching the line of 

 flight a foot or 2 ahead of the leader I fol- 

 lowed for about 20 feet, and then pulled. 

 They were 30 yards from me, and the 

 head of the rear duck was even with the 

 wing of the leader. The former dropped 

 dead, but the leader was only touched, and 

 it required the left barrel to finish him. 



I picked them up, and stowed them 

 away for future reference. Seeing Andy 

 coming I walked to meet him. Suddenly a 

 jack snipe jumped up within 2 feet of me, 

 and darted off. I caught a hurried sight 

 and fired, but he kept on. Before I could 

 get on him with my left, down he went, and 

 Andy chuckled as he picked him up. I 

 made a few remarks. 



" My boy," said Andy, gravely, " you 

 must learn to aim at whatever you shoot at, 

 and to control your temper when your 

 eye is wiped." He laid the snipe and another 

 on the grass. I followed suit. Brace after 

 brace came from our pockets until there 

 were 22 birds in each row. Then Andy laid 

 down another snipe, and I could not follow. 

 A grin lit up his face as he added a brace of 

 quails to his row. Then, with a reproachful 

 look at him, I brought out my brace of 

 mallards. I said nothing. Andy said 

 "Blankety blank ! " 



" My boy," I observed, " you must learn 

 to control your temper, when " 



" Let's go home," he said, picking up his 

 birds. 



34' 



