674 Bob White, the Game Bird of America. 



was perfectly open shooting. The thirteenth and last bird, rising with two others 

 which I killed right and left, flew but a short distance and dropped among some 

 sumacs in the corner of a rail fence. I could have shot him certainly enough, but 

 some undefined feeling induced me to call my dog to heel, and spare his little life ; yet 

 afterward I almost regretted what I certainly intended at the time for mercy. For day 

 after day, so long as I remained in the country, I heard his sad call from morn till dewy 

 eve, crying for his departed friends, and full, apparently, of memory, which is, alas ! but 

 too often another name for sorrow. 



" It is a singular proof how strong is the passion for the chase and the love of pur- 

 suit implanted by nature in the heart of man, that however much, when not influenced 

 by the direct heat of sport, we deprecate the killing of these little birds and pity the 

 individual sufferers, the moment the dog points and the bevy springs, or the propitious 

 morning promises good sport, all the compunction is forgotten in the eagerness and 

 emulation which are natural to our race." 



Bob White schools the wing-shot as severely as the wily trout 

 tries the angler. Like the trout, he has habits which we must be 

 acquainted with in order to find him, and w r hen found we ourselves 

 may be found — wanting. Am I not a convicted boaster? Was it 

 not only yesterday when I to myself said proudly " I'm a crack- 

 shot"? 



" Deeply hast sunk the lesson thou hast given, 

 And shall not soon depart." 



It requires much experience to divine the whereabouts of Bob 

 White. If the weather be fair, start early, for the birds will be on 

 their feeding-grounds at sunrise, and will be found in the fields of 

 stubble, or in the midst of the rag-weed, and along the brier-fringed 

 ditches ; and do not forget the field of buckwheat, for they are 

 especially fond of it. About ten or eleven they will cease feeding, 

 and will seek the sunny side of some covert near a stream, where 

 they will quench their thirst after their morning meal. Here they 

 will dust and preen themselves, and take their noonday siesta. The 

 birds will generally remain here till three or four hours after mid- 

 day, and, closely huddled as they are, they are difficult for the dog 

 to find. 



The sportsman, if wise, will now follow the. example of the birds, 

 and seeking the quiet of some sheltered sunny nook, will take his 

 lunch and rest himself and his dogs. How well we remember that 

 pleasant spring-side, with the dogs stretched before us to catch the 

 warm rays of the sun, their eyes furtively glancing at us, waiting for 



