158 Life in the Open 



the warning of the quail, and then perfect silence ; 

 then wook-wook, and from far away, wak-ze//z#-who. 

 You creep carefully over the divide to find them 

 gone ; indeed the flock is running off. The speed 

 with which they make their way through the brush is 

 marvellous ; and by the time you reach them again they 

 are ready to repeat the operation. After a big covey is 

 met with, they will keep just out of range, and you 

 gradually discover the secret, which is to throw Eastern 

 diplomacy and strategy to the winds, and when a flock 

 is sighted, walk, or even run, into it as fast as possible. 

 The main body will rise ahead, but there are always 

 three or four or more that stay behind and rise within 

 range to afford you an excellent and often futile shot. 

 In this way, hunting the flocks and advancing boldly 

 and quickly upon them when found, a bag can be gotten 

 in th'e easiest manner. 



In point of fact, every ordinary rule is broken by the 

 successful California quail hunter, and I well recall the 

 amusement of a friend from the East when we were 

 working up on a covey when I fired into the air over 

 their heads. But he soon saw the philosophy of the 

 movement. We were between them and the thick 

 chaparral-covered hills, and they rose with a roar of 

 wings and separated, going in all directions. And then 

 our hunt began, as we moved on through the sage, 

 the birds lying low and rising in the most unexpected 

 fashion. One of my first experiences was in hunting 

 over a descendant of the famous " Bang Bang." He 



