184 



WILD FOWL SHOOTING. 



mottled white, runs to his side. The fierce, proud look 

 forsakes him; the fiery glance in that wild eye is 

 softened ; he gazes fondly, lovingly at her, and all is 

 forgiven. The little flirt knew it would be. How 

 pretty they look together, affianced lovers. Side by 

 side they run from view. You look where they disap- 

 peared, soliloquizing : " When once the young heart 

 of a maiden is stolen, the maiden herself will steal after 

 it soon." 



All around you now the air will be filled with joyous 

 sounds, coming from the scattered covey. Now that 

 you have them separated, keep them so. Send forth 

 your faithful dog, and never regret the short time you 

 lost in watching these birds unawares. 



Whether or not quail are subject to domestication, 

 qucere ? My experience has been they are not. The 

 love of freedom is so thoroughly engrafted in their na- 

 ture that no amount of kindness can offset to them the 

 dearest thing on earth, liberty. I have tried all manner 

 of ways, devised and carried out all kinds of schemes 

 to bring them into mild subjection, but without ex- 

 ception have universally failed. Have carried home 

 cripples, having stunned them with stones, or arrows 

 when a boy ; resuscitated them, bringing them out of 

 insensibility by opening their mouths and breathing 

 life into them ; have gently caressed and kindly cared 

 for them ; kept them confined in roomy cages, supplied 

 them with choicest food such as in their liberty they 

 might possibly get ; have constantly been in their pres- 

 ence, thinking in this way, coupled with kind affec- 

 tion, I might win their confidence, but signally failed. 

 To be sure, after a time, they would not flutter against 

 the cage, or seek to escape from me, if I did not touch 



