ing, they would probably have taken a grim kind 
of satisfaction at what happened by the palo 
verde clump at the arroyo a little later. 
They always kept a sharp look-out for hawks. 
When one of these dreaded enemies came flying 
along overhead that day, as usual, they ran to 
cover wherever they could find it. One hid 
under a large cactus leaf, one flattened out 
beside a rock, two of them crouched in the 
shelter of the bayonet leaves of a soap weed, 
and the others simply fell flat on the sand and 
never moved. 
The skill and readiness with which these 
young quails hid themselves might lead one to 
believe that their parents had taught them this 
important lesson of the wilderness over and over 
again until they knew it perfectly. But such 
was not the case, for they simply were following 
their own instincts bred into them through many 
hundreds of generations of quails who had been 
skilful hiders in times of need. They may have 
picked up a few hints now and then by seeing 
what their parents did, but the idea of crouching 
and lying perfectly still in time of danger was 
203 
