“Can I have missed it?” shouted Stepan Arkadyevitch, who could not see for the smoke.

“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