Bob IVhite, the Game Bird of America. 675 



AND EUROPEAN QUAIL. 



their share of the lunch ; the fragrant cigar, with pleasant jokes at 

 our bad shots and untimely tumble, the generous admiration of our 

 companions' skill, and talk about the wonderful working of the dogs. 

 • What a picture ! When that dog suddenly stopped at the end of 

 his bound over that hillock, and with a hare in his mouth backed the 

 Laverack bitch drawing on to a covey which she found just as he 

 was retrieving !" " Yes ! and don't you remember, on t'other side of 

 th:>se woods, when she froze to the top of that stone fence when, in 

 th<- act of leaping it. sin- winded a covey not twenty feet off on the 

 other side ? " * "Yes, good dogs! you have deserved well of us!" 

 here's a glass of sherry to their long lives in happy hunting- 

 grounds, and success to the day!*' and we are off on a tramp of a half- 

 dozen miles, which will bring to bag another score of birds and take us 

 to the blazing hickory and bountiful country dinner of our cheer) host. 

 If the weather is very dry, do not seek the birds on the uplands, 

 for Bob White, though no hvdropathist. likes the vicinity of water. 

 But if your hunt occurs after a rainy spell, go to the upland stubble- 

 fields, and work your dogs along the border of the driest and sun- 

 of the coverts. 



• I wo real incident* which haj»|>cn<.«l umlcr the eye of the author. 



