Very different were the conditions when, at about 
7 o'clock this evening, I landed at the "Tent" and walked 
out into the great expanse of dim, grayish meadow. Twilight 
had fallen and the wind had sunk to a gentle breeze. There 
was not a cloud in the sky. The half moon gave a subdued 
light and there was a strong afterglow in the west, but 
it was fading fast. The whole meadow seemed alive with 
Snipe, but they are deceptive birds and there may not have 
been more than a dozen in all. There were at least two 
drumming. They kept it up without any cessation during 
the half hour or so that I stood listening to them and, I 
have no doubt, the greater part of the night. I could 
hear other birds scaiping as they flew about from place to 
place and once I heard the kuc-kuc-kuc-kuc-kuc call, given 
just as I remember it years ago when I have seen the bird 
in the act of making it. The Leopard Frogs and Hylas 
were making a great racket but the weird minmbwing of the 
to be 
Snipe did not seem/in the least obcured by it. 
