THE BOOK OF MIGRATORY BIRDS 221 



1L 



Says Mr. Harwood Brierley : 



Not long ago I came across an old "quailer" living 

 on the borders of Hatfield Chace, Yorkshire. I had 

 never seen any quail-pipes until he pulled a set out 

 of an untidy drawer in his cottage, and I wanted to 

 purchase these as a curiosity; but the old professional 

 hand imagined he would want them again some time, 

 arguing that new quail-pipes were no more use than new 

 fiddles. To a waist-belt with a buckle were suspended 

 three leather pipes, not unlike the teats of a cow, each 

 with a mouthpiece like a whistle. Concealing himself with 

 this instrument tied round his waist in a bared patch of 

 high corn during the month of August, he squeezed the 

 air out of No. i pipe, which yielded a comparatively loud 

 whistle deceptive enough to challenge any he-quail within 

 earshot. It would be that bird's instinct to run in the 

 direction whence this vexatious sound proceeded, where- 

 upon the old quailer would squeeze pipe No. 2, whose 

 note simulated a retreating bird's confession, "I am funky 

 and will not fight." The third whistle impelled the on- 

 coming dupe, and he, with bosom in a ferment of blended 

 pugnacity and amorousness, rushed blindly into the net 

 spread at the quailer's feet. 



To Yorkshire naturalists, sportsmen, and epicures the 

 quail is just now an interesting study. Perhaps no other 

 bird has formed the basis of so much speculation on the 

 subject of migration. No bird is, perhaps, so world-wide 

 in its distribution ; none so apt to go to extremes as con- 

 stituting a plague which cometh in the night, or making 

 itself strictly "conspicuous by its absence." Its move- 

 ments seem all the more remarkable because it is included 

 in the British game list, and related to the grouse and 

 partridge, two birds which are indigenous to these 

 islands, but do not migrate. The "common" quail 

 (Coturnix communis) is not so common nowadays even in 



