Old October Days in Iowa. 



At the last report there was a great commotion and quite a 

 bunch of birds shot out like a bolt of lightning. I heard John's 

 second barrel, and three or four more birds emerged upon my 

 side, a snap shot at the two foremost was fired, but resulted in 

 a blank. Through the vaporous fumes of the powder smoke I 

 saw another of the sly rascals making for cover at a great pace 

 and my finger instantly pressed the trigger ; but the charge of 

 No. 7's only hastened its flight to a place of safety. From the 

 scene of our first onslaught we drove northward toward the 

 river and, as we neared the timber, John said : "Now, Doc, get 

 ready for a crack at quail, for there is always a flock or two in 

 the timber above the bridge." After crossing the bridge, we 

 tied our horse to a tree and struck out with both dogs ranging 

 in fine shape and covering the ground thoroughly. Twenty 

 yards from the entrance to the timber, which we found to our 

 delight not to be so thick but what good shooting was com- 

 paratively easy, Reddy, who was working systematically ahead 

 of us, came to a dead stop and no amount of persuasion would 

 induce him to advance. The ground was covered with a sparse 

 growth of short, dead grass which grew up between the stones 

 with which the ground was strewn. For several yards around 

 us there was nothing to prevent our seeing the bird on the 

 ground, or at least so I thought, and with a warning word to 

 Reddy for his carelessness in pointing a bird in such a positive 

 manner, I took a step forward. As I did so, out from almost 

 under my nose started the bird, which shot aloft like a rocket. 

 So surprised was I that I lost considerable time in swinging 

 my gun to position and in the meantime John killed the bird 

 from behind my back. Then followed a vastly pleasing and 

 exciting experience that of putting up the remaining birds 

 from the timber. A half an hour later we had succeeded in 

 flushing a greater part of the bevy, but our bag was not as good 

 as it should have been considering the many fine shots we both 

 had. I never was a good shot at quail, and on this occasion 

 our game pockets were not pulling as heavy on our shoulders 

 as would have been the case had I done my part. John pro- 



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