The Quail 37 



you hear shooting, don't rush over and plunge into 

 some other man's sport. There is no harm, how- 

 ever, in a gentlemanly investigation and a sports- 

 manlike meeting with the other fellow. You may 

 make a charming acquaintance and double forces 

 for the day to mutual advantage. But in true 

 field courtesy the rights of the situation are his, 

 and no sportsman will go into action without an 

 invitation from the man working on the game. 

 These little matters are well worth attention, for 

 the observance of the unwritten law is what dis- 

 tinguishes the sportsman from the fellow out 

 gunning. 



Let us imagine the opening day of an average 

 season, — bright warm weather, the leaves still on 

 all growths, and the usual crop of weeds and 

 burrs up to standard. The sun has been up two 

 hours, and two men and one good dog are ready 

 for business. The ground to be worked is typical 

 of the East, divided into medium-sized fields, 

 which means many fences with weedy cover about 

 them and a tree here and there along the side-lines. 

 A rough classification of the fields would be one- 

 fourth wheat-stubble, one-fourth standing corn, one- 

 fourth rough pasture, and the remaining fourth 

 a combination of stump-lot, thicket, and standing 

 timber. Of such is the kingdom of — rare good 

 quail country ! that is, it is, or should be. If there 

 happen to be a trifle of air stirring, so much the 



