PLUMED QUAIL 49 



Grinnell, Bryant, and Storer (1918) say: 



When alarmed the Mountain Quail carries its crest feathers erect, bowing 

 backwards towards the tip but not tilted forward as in the case of the Valley 

 Quail. This action gives the bird an alert attitude — consistent with its evident 

 anxiety in case there are young about. Although habitually occupying brushy 

 and forested areas, this quail but seldom perches in trees, and as far as we 

 know the adults never roost in one at night. They stick close to the ground 

 and usually seek safety by running beneath cover rather than by flight. For 

 this reason the Mountain Quail is considered an unsatisfactory bird to hunt. 

 When hunted in the brush they generally run some distance before flying, scat- 

 tering and finally taking wing like as not behind a bush so as to preclude the 

 probability of a successful shot. 



Voice. — Dawson (1923) describes the varied notes of this quail 

 very well, as follows : 



The Mountain Quail's is the authentic voice of the foothills, as well as the 

 dominant note of Sierran valleys and of bush-covered ridges. Spring and 

 summer alike, and sometimes in early autumn, one may hear that brooding, 

 mellow, slightly melancholy too' wook, sounding forth at intervals of five or 

 six seconds. Now and then it is repeated from a distant hillside where a rival 

 is sounding. This note is easily whistled, and a little practice will enable 

 the bird-student to join in, or else to start a rivalry where all has been 

 silent before. And quite as frequently, in springtime, a sharper note is 

 sounded, although this, I believe, is strictly a mating or a questing call, queelk 

 or queelp. This has alike a liquid and a penetrating quality which defies imita- 

 tion, so that the unfeathered suitor is not likely to get very far in milady's 

 affections. Thus, also, I have " witnessed " the progress of courtship and its 

 impending climax in the depths of a bed of ceanothus where not a feather 

 was visible. The quilk of the preceding days had evidently taken effect. The 

 lady was there, somewhere. The mate was still quilking, but his efforts were 

 hurried, breathless. Between the major utterances, ecstatic took notes were 

 interjected. As the argument progressed I heard a low-pitched musical series, 

 rapidly uttered, look look look look look. (But there was no use in looking.) 

 This series, employed six or eight times, was suddenly terminated by half a 

 dozen quilks in swift succession, indicative of an indescribable degree of 

 excitement. 



Leslie L. Haskin writes to me : 



Their call when quietly feeding is not greatly unlike that of young turkey 

 poults when following their mother. Another call often given is a simple, 

 rapid, chirring thrill, t-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r, often long continued. Their alarm note 

 when startled but not badly frightened is an exact reproduction in accent, 

 though not in tone, of a hen's cackle. In the partridge the cut-cut-ca-do of the 

 barnyard fowl is charmingly altered into a shrill t-t-t-t-t-tr-r-r-r-r-r-t or 

 tut-tut-tut-tr-r-r-r-r-tut all very rapidly delivered, and in sharp crescendo. Be- 

 cause of the difference in tone, and the rapidity of the partridges' delivery, few 

 have noticed this resemblance, but once the ear has grasped the accent the 

 similarity can never be forgotten. 



Game. — Although the mountain partridge is a fine, large, plump 

 bird and makes a delicious morsel on the table, it is not highly re- 

 garded as a game bird and not fully appreciated by sportsmen. It is 



