
the first one (he should have taken the | 
last) and just as he pulled the trigger 
the second bird lined up with the first 
so Billy got them both with one shot. 
“No count,” I told him, so the slate 
was still clean. We waited an hour! 
without a pair appearing so I suppose 
the bet still stands. 
I was looking off toward a little brook 
that wound its way through the marsh 
when I saw a small feathered form rise 
suddenly, shoot off at a corkscrew angle 
and disappear. ‘“Jacksnipe’”’ flashed on 
my mental screen, but I said nothing of 
it to Billy. Rising leisurely I “guessed” 
I’d take a little walk along the brook 
and see if I could jump something, Billy 
was agreeable so I sat off alone. 

HAD followed the brook for perhaps 
two hundred yards when up got a 
Wilson, or “jacksnipe’” and away he 
bored with a harsh “scaip!”’ call of pro- 
test. Catching him on an upward and 
inward turn I registered with a goodly 
splash of 10’s that grassed him and 
although it took me some time to ferret 
him out of the rank growth, it was 
worth the trouble. Barely was he pock- 
eted when two more flushed. I tried too 
hard to make a close double and suc- 
ceeded in missing both; had I taken time 
I could have got one and possibly the 
other; many misses are caused by 
shooting too quickly. Still ambling 
along I jumped another which I wing- 
tipped and lost. The little fellows were 
lying close, many of them rising within 
eight or ten feet. Twenty yards 
farther on produced another pair. They 
leaped into two right angles, and figur- 
ing that a bird in hand was worth two 
in the future I made sure of the first 
and registered a clean miss on the sec- 
ond which had swung sharply to the 
right and crossed the brook. 
By this time my companion was be- 
eoming inquisitive, and I could see him 
standing up in the blind trying to see 
what I was doing. I shot eight snipe 
before Billy’s curiosity overcame his in- 
ertia, and didn’t he hustle over to get 
into it. He told me what he thought 
in good plain English, something to the 
effect that I was hogging all the birds 
and knew they were there all the time; 
he began telling me as soon as he came 
within earshot which made him miss a 
lovely shot; then a snipe got up between 
us and although I dropped flat in order 
that Billy might shoot he withheld his 
fire saying I wasn’t worth shooting at. 
Finally we found a narrow place in the 
brook where some thoughtful party had 
stretched a board across, so with Billy 
on one side and I the other we managed 
to clean up a good bag. Yellow-legs 
were forgotten in our quest for the nim- 
ble “Jack.” Honors were about even at 
the end of an hour and as it was near- 
ing-noon and we were both hungry and 
tired, Billy suggested that we quit. 

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Or 
