The Autobiography of a California Quail 



A Conservation Story from San Jose. California 

 Edith M. Siniman 



Two little children were walking in the stubble field one day 

 down near the creek when they heard someone say quite plainly, 

 "Peek-a-boo, little children, I see you but you can't see me." 

 A pause and then, "I see that you have no dog nor gun nor sharp 

 white teeth shining at me and no big round eyes peering out of 

 bushy feathers nor yet do you come creeping and wriggling on the 

 ground, so if you will sit very quietly on that log there, I will move 

 a little so that you may see me for I should like to be friends with 

 you." 



The two little children sat quietly a few moments on the log 

 looking sharply at the ground, when suddenly something moved 

 right at their feet, stood up, and what did they see but a beautiful 

 quail, just exactly the color of the leaves and ground where he 

 stood, very dignified, very graceful with a slender plume nodding 

 on top of his head as he said, "There now, look at me. Wasn't 



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