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"Here it is!" said Levin, pointing to Laska, who with one ear

raised, wagging the end of her shaggy tail, came slowly back as

though she would prolong the pleasure, and as it were smiling,

brought the dead bird to her master. "Well, I'm glad you were

successful," said Levin, who, at the same time, had a sense of

envy that he had not succeeded in shooting the snipe.

"It was a bad shot from the right barrel," responded Stepan

Arkadyevitch, loading his gun. "Sh... it's flying!"

The shrill whistles rapidly following one another were heard

again. Two snipe, playing and chasing one another, and only

whistling, not crying, flew straight at the very heads of the

sportsmen. There was the report of four shots, and like swallows

the snipe turned swift somersaults in the air and vanished from

sight.