The herald., 1897-10-10

hordes of quail that lined our valleys
and spread over the smaller slopes be-
fore the great real estate boom opened
the country TO the market shooter with
so many new lines of railway, and before
the cheap breech-loader had put into the
hands of every granger's boy far more
destructive weapon than his father
could buy for love or money. Breeding
everywhere on hill and dale, from the
sea coast to three or four thousand feet
above it, and concentrating in the fall
in the valleys into large flocks of many
hundreds which again running together
made flocks of manys thousands, this
quail seemed SO prolific that we laughed
at the idea that its numbers could ever
be materially reduced.
While we underestimated the ability
Of the great white hog to trample and
ravage all that is fair in nature we also
made little miscalculation about the
ability of this bird to develop new traits
with persecution. At first We were sur
prised at the decimation so quickly
made in the ranks by the market shoot
ers and that inexcusable pig who shoots
for count. Then we were as much sur
prised at the way the birds that were
left maintained their ground in spite of
increasing persecution.
Even when most tame the valley quail
of California was no easy bird to make
large bag on. Pot shooting was none too
easy, though by well contrived sneak
behind a clump of cactus many an old
time tar-weed ranchero secured a dinner
by one eruption, of cheap powder in an
old~fashioned gaspipe' gun. The prin-
cipal work he had was to arrive at the
scene Of slaughter in time to kick the
rump off the dog before he could gobble
up all the game. Leaving the dog be-
hind or tying him UP was never thought
Of He always went along and the race
between him and his irdulgent master
was an indispensable part Of quail
shooting in the olden days.
Even for those who wanted wing
shooting only, the pursuit of the quail,
even when plenty, lacked the simplicity
of a Sunday school picnic. For the ter,-
derfoot the immense numbers only made
matters worse. No bird ever bothered
him so much or so completely dashed to
earth the cup of anticipation just as he
thought he was about to drain it at
gulp. Nothing ever astonished HIM so
much as the size of the bunch of whiz-
zing blue into which he could empty both
barrels of his gun without ruffiing a
feather. Nothing confused him so much
as the whizz and buzz and chirp, chirp,
chirp of saucy defiance as bird after bird
rose out of the cover, curling around his
head, darting to the sides, scudding away
in front, pouring out even behind him,
20 or 80 in the air at once, all within easy
shot and only a few feet behind each
other in rising. Thousands have stood
in such sweatbox pointing the gun at
one until a more tempting one rose just
behind that one, shifting the gun to the
new one to have two or three more
cross the line of sight in such a tempt
ing streak Of slate blue. white. cinnamon
and black that he had to shift the gun
to them, then to have all bis plans
changed by plump old cock with
jaunty plume of jet curling over his
bill and whizzing wings on each side
mount with successive bursts of speed
above the sky lire where he seemed to
tempt even providence, and just as he
shifted the gun to this ore two or three