THE QUAILS OF CALIFORNIA. 169 



alarm, and down the winding openings saw a 

 dozen or more dark lines winding amid the 

 thorny green. I quickened the pace, and sud- 

 denly a quail rose with short and intermitting 

 stroke of wing, as if only climbing higher for 

 better inspection. Never a prettier shot ; but 

 Jones, excited by running, fired as he stopped. 

 The bird went whizzing on, followed by a sheet 

 of roaring blue, into the thickest of which Jones 

 poured his second barrel. The air was filled 

 with feathers, and half a dozen quail were flutter- 

 ing about among the roots in the center of one 

 of the thickest clumps of cactus, where he would 

 never get one of them. 



As fast as I could run I followed after the 

 flock, which had flown only about one hundred 

 yards. As they rose I fired into the air above 

 them, wanting only to scare them and not lose 

 time at this stage by picking up. At this the 

 flock broke some and scattered, but still I kept 

 after them, and as most of them rose again I 

 fired the other barrel in air. This scattered 

 them over a space some two hundred yards long 

 in the cactus, and all their noise ceased. 



Jones came up looking intensely disgusted. 



