Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1884-02-22
THE QUAIL.
One Of TurgeneH's Interpretations OF N ,
ChiIdhoOd,"

ChiIdhOOd."
"A translation Of the great uoyelists last sketchl
was about ten years of age when what
am about to relate occurred.
1t was summer time. In those days lived
with my father on farmin Southern Russia.
Around Us for distance Of many vorsts the
steppe extended in every direction. No for
est, no stream could be found in the neigh
boring country only shallow ravines cover
ed by brushwood and looking like immense
green snakes, here and there made their way
through the otherwise unbroken surface of
the plains. Tiny rivulets flowed at the bot
tom Of these ravines in places to which
well-beatcn foot paths generally led you
could see, very near the top of the bank,
small springs Of limpid water, like tears. is.
sue from the ground and on their edges in
the damp clay the tracks Of numberless birds
and other small animals. Man aud beasts
alike need fresh, pure water.
My father was passionately fond OF hunt
ing. Every moment he could spare from his
work-provided the weather was fne--would
see him take down his rife, strap his pouch
about his waist whistle for his old dog IRE.
sor, and start to hunt quail or partridge.
Hare he thought little of +; fit only, he would
say with an air Of contempt, to make a hun
ter run. These and snipes which came in the
autumn were all the game found in the neigh
borhood.
But quais and pLrtridges were quite nu-
merous; especially the latter In following
the banks Of the rayines you would encoun-
ter at every step little hollows in the dry
ground where they love to squat. Old Ire
sor would then come to a sudden stop, his
tail wagging furiously and his forehead gath
ering in wrinkles, while my father, pale with
excitement, would cautiously raise the ham
mer OF his gun.
At times, to my great joy, would be per
mtted to accompany him. l used to tuck
tho legs of my trousers into the tops of my
boots, hang my little flask over my shoulders
and so equipped, would imagine myself a
true sportsman. Though Precipitation might
cover me from head to foot, and gravel aud
dust enter my Shoes / never felt the least IA
tigued, and never in single instance allow
ed myself to drop behind. At each report of
the gun, and as soon as the bird fell bound
ed forward with joyous shout-I felt 80
happy The wounded quail might struggle,
flap its wings, sometimes on the ground, at
other times in Tresor's mouth its blood flow
i only became enthusiastic; | never felt
the least sentiment of pity
What wouldn't have given to be able to
fire gun myself TO kill quails and partridges
with my own hand But my father had re-
peatedly explained to me that l was not to
have a gun until had reached the age of
twelve, and that then / was to have a single
barreled gun, and that would be allowed to
shoot larks only. Large numbers OF these
were found near our house; on sunny days
you could see them by the dozens in the clear
sky mounting higher, ever higher, with
| chrps resembling the tinkling of little bells.
looked upon them as my future spoil, and
aimed at them with stick which carried
over my shoulder like gun. 1t Is very easy
to get close to them, when they hover with
quiyering wings perhaps fye or six feet above
the ground, before suddenly plunging into
the grass.
Sometimes, in the distance, on stubble
fields or the green prairie, bustards could be
seen. "Ah!' / would sigh ito kill bird
like that, and then die :"
pointed them out to my father with my
| finger but he would invariably answer that
the bustard was a very shy bird, which would
not permit anybody to get near it. Once,
however, he attempted to steal upon a soli,a-
ry bustard, thinking that it had been wound.
ed perhaps, and was tagging behind the rest
of the flock. He ordered Trosor to keep be-
hind him. and bade me not to stir. Charg.
| ing his gun with buckshot he turned TO the
dog and exclaimed in a low voice "Back
back" Then covering as low as possible he
advanced cautiously upon the bustard. Ire
sor would not crouch down, but assumed @
| gait something like that OF handy legged
person, wagging his tail and holding one oi
| his lips between his teeth. l couldn't keeI
still any longer, and followed'my father and
| Tresor, crawling carefully all the way. But
the bustard wouldn't allow US to get within
three hundred yards it started on run first
then tapping its wings flew away. Tresoi
made boInd forward and stared at it. l.
| too looked at it-with such a disappointed
heart Couldn't it have stayed Just little
longer2 We should certainly have killed the
bird.
One day 1. started with my father to e
hunting. 1t was on the eve of st. Peter
Day. At that season of the year the young
partridges are still very small, and my fathel
would not shoot any. He therefore entered
a patch of oak trees situated on the edge of
rye field, where you were always sure to fine
quail. As it was rather difficult to cut gras
| in this piece of wood it had been allowed L
grow freely and had attained a great height
Myriads of flowers, vetch, clover, hare. bell
mouseear and sweet william throve there il
| abundance. Whenever l came to this spo
with my sister or the maid-servant carried
home whole armfuls but when in the com
pany of my father did not think of picking
flowers / considered that occupation unbe
coming a sportsman.
Suddenly Tresor came to stop. My fathe
made signal for me to be cautious Righ
in front of Tresor a hen quail rose and fey
off But she few in a strange manner, turn
ing and tumbling over and over again in thu
air and then falling to the ground as il sh
had been wounded. Tresor made for her a
fast az possible-a thing he never did whel
the bird flew in its usual manner.
My father could not take aim for fear 0
hitting the dog. Presently Tresor mad
sudden dash, and before We kne,
it, he had seized the quail and brought he
to my father. My father took the bird fron
him and laid it on its back, on the palm O
his hand. ran up to him.
whats the matterf p o;ied. 'Is sh
wounded ?"
mo, replied my father ''she must, how
ever, have her nest with her little ones clos
by. She acted az if she were wounded s
that the dog might think he could catch he
easily"
"Why did she do 80 ?"
"In order to divert the dogs attention froI
her little ones after which, if she had SUI
ceeded, she would have flown away. BJ
this time she missed her little game, and Trt
sor has caught her"
''Then she is not hit p inquired again.
"No-but she won't live-Tresor mu
have injured her with his teeth"
stepped nearer TO have q better look
the quail. She rested motionless ON ii
palm of my fathers hand; her head WI
dropping and her black eye looked at n
sideways. All at once feeling of pity owe
came me. 1t seemed to me as If the po'
little bird regarded me and thought; "Wt