QUAIL SHOOTING. ise 
of the scattered covey calling its mate. Listen! With 
what caution he makes his love call. Together with 
his mate he enjoys solitude, but now that he is alone 
he is despondent. Note the mellowness of his ery, the 
pleading in his loving voice. He dare not call aloud, 
yet he wishes to be heard. Then, fearing that his pur- 
suers may also hear, subdues his voice, as if frightened 
at its volume. Gently he calls again, ‘ Wah-ee-he ! 
Wah-ee-he!” He listens for that responsive call ex- 
pectantly, then emboldened by the silence, desirous of 
meeting his mate, oblivious to the danger he may en- 
counter, he moves from his hiding-place, and boldly 
steps forth in aslght opening and anxiously looks 
around. He sees and hears nothing, and feels satisfied 
his enemies have departed. He stares fiercely around, as 
if to challenge any intruder. He hearkens, expecting 
an answer to his call. His neck swells, his head is 
thrown back, as loud calls issue from his throat. Then, 
as if feeling perhaps that his calls have been too imper- 
ative, subdues his voice, and with tender accents calls 
for his lady love. Impatiently he waits for a reply. 
His mate, gentle, confiding little one, has been within 
hearing all the time; she would not hurry to him, lest 
in, that haste, she might do an act inconsistent with her 
sex. She replies not to his many calls. When in an- 
ery disappointment he fiercely cries, she runs hastily 
toward him, regretting her coquetry and fearing his 
anger. Then again, when that fierce voice is tempered 
into sweetest music to her ears. she delays her coming 
that she may not appear too forward. Once again he 
raises himself to his full height, getting ready to make 
the woods echo and re-echo with his cries, but before 
he opens his mouth, a tiny form, dressed in gold and 
