XV 



SMALL GAME SHOOTING — I 



UPON a^d around our ranch were vast stretches 

 of low sage-brush that harboured quail in- 

 numerable. Then it was easy — not so very easy, 

 for we were rank shots — to make big bags, and the 

 difficulty lay not in killing the birds, but in the 

 disposal of them afterwards. For our neighbours 

 had no "use" for quails (nor for sweetbreads, which 

 we obtained from our butcher for nothing) ; and in 

 time we, too, tired of the bird's peculiar flavour. In 

 Kibroth-hattaavah, we are told, six hundred thou- 

 sand men fed upon these birds for a full month, 

 until the food became "loathsome" unto them; 

 and it is said in California that no white man can 

 eat one quail a day for thirty consecutive days: 

 toujours perdrix ! 



Callipepla Californica, however, must not be 

 confounded with the bob-white {Colimcs Virginia- 

 nus), nor with the tiny Chinese quail who is kept 

 for fighting purposes, and to warm the hands of 

 his owner. Our bird is the Beau Brummel of quail, 

 a dandy at all seasons, even in extreme old age. 

 Who does not admire his dapper surtout of grey- 

 blue, his sporting waistcoat of brown and white, his 

 black, glossy crest, his poHshed extremities, and 

 his charming manners in captivity? 



And what superb sport he affords 1 



18 



