Quail and Partridge 137 



sound of them he could foretell the weather. 

 He knew where the coveys slept with reason- 

 able certainty. If they fed in the wheat stub- 

 ble among young clover, he looked for a mild 

 day, with maybe rain at the end ; if they went 

 toward the woods he knew it would be hot 

 and windy ; if into the pea fields, or standing 

 corn, there was likelihood of snow. If they 

 sought thick sedge, land full of briers and 

 tangle, he might look for very sharp cold. If 

 they lay close, not flushing until the dog and 

 hunter were in the midst of them, or ran along 

 the ground in a swift line with the dogs on a 

 dead point, he was sure of heavy windy rain. 

 What he loved best was a mild, moist day, 

 not too mild, with a sky overcast, and a little 

 tingling breeze coming out of the southwest. 

 He liked to have the weeds so dry and dead 

 walking through them was easy. He com- 

 monly rode from field to field, but did most 

 of his shooting afoot, although his black colt 

 Pipe Stem, stood fire like a veteran. Joe 

 sometimes shot off" him, with the gun lying 

 between Pipe Stem's ears. Patsy said he did 

 that only to show off, but Joe did not think it 

 was any great showing off, although he was 

 reasonably proud of the colt's steadiness. No 

 mistake Pipe Stem was a good fellow. So 

 also was High-Low, the pointer who divided 

 with the colt the first place in Joe's affections. 



