QUAIL SHOOTING. 185 



the cage ; but it was love's labor lost, for the instant I 

 left one at liberty he took advantage of it, and flew 

 away, never to return. I have seen their eggs hatched 

 by a hen, but they were no sooner from the shell than 

 they would skulk and hide in the nearest wood-pile, 

 under the walk, or any other place to avoid me. 



There is one thing about quail, that I have never had 

 explained or been able to understand, that is : the con- 

 fused state they are in at times during their migrations. 

 For they certainly do migrate, not far, but their little 

 bodies are filled with restlessness, with the desire to 

 wander, and they make their nomadic excursions late 

 in October, or early in November. Not always by 

 flight, but at times in great flocks they will start out 

 on foot, travel miles and miles, flying across rivers, 

 alighting on land and running along very fast, as if on 

 some necessary pilgrimage. Years ago, I have fre- 

 quently seen them on these journeys, at the edges of 

 villages, running along, each trying to keep ahead of 

 his nearest competitors, then they would arise and fly 

 into town, with the swiftness of a bullet, and the whole 

 flock would be headed for some building. In the woods, 

 their flight was never too swift for them to avoid the 

 smallest tree ; but in town, they didn't seem to be able 

 to steer clear of two-story houses, and with a dull tliud 

 their bodies would thump against the buildings in the 

 line of their flight. This I have seen repeatedly, and 

 have picked up as many as four from one flock, that 

 had thus stunned themselves. After alighting once, 

 they regain their accustomed vigilance, but boys, clubs, 

 stones, bows and arrows, and ancient shot guns, used to 

 sadly diminish their ranks. They were very plenty 

 in those days, and I have killed as many as seven in 



