276 Sporting Sketches 



morning, had a smart team hooked to a democrat 

 wagon, and the first ground was only about five 

 miles away. He had a businesslike-looking pointer, 

 and we were to pick up another dog. Even so late 

 in the season that portion of the state forms an 

 exceedingly attractive picture. It is true we had 

 missed the full glory of the turning leaf, but there 

 still lingered much warmth in the browning foliage, 

 while blue hills, dimly seen through silvery haze, 

 formed a superb background. 



The ground looked almost too clean for quail, but 

 presently our guide pulled up his team and ex- 

 claimed " See 'em crossin' thar they be ! " As 

 we looked a cock quail sprinted across and was 

 closely followed by half-a-dozen birds, seemingly a 

 bit larger than the ordinary type. 



" Out with you, Lay Delegate we'll hold the 

 dogs ! " commanded the parsons, and as they posi- 

 tively refused the chance, I speedily unlimbered. 



" Birr !-birr-birr-birr ! " Not the expected half 

 dozen, but fully twenty birds sprang yards into the 

 air. Two cocks and a hen streamed fair across the 

 road, and the stopping of the white throats was a 

 crisply easy task. As I looked toward the wagon, 

 two stately figures rose and stood respectfully un- 

 covered. Mentally, I could see stained-glass windows 

 close behind 'em. 



" Them's willow legs ! " declared the guide, posi- 

 tively, as I handed up the birds. Needless to say 

 the quail were the common type, although unusually 

 fine and large. 



Very pretty but rather peculiar shooting followed. 

 The ground was so clean that birds flushed at from 



