64 UPLAND SHOOTING. 



several bevies; and these flocks again unite, until dark 

 sheets of quail, sometimes covering half an acre or more 

 of sun-dried grass or stubble, may be seen around the 

 edges of every valley. Out of cactus-patches, clumps of 

 sumac, and old piles of granite rock in the smaller canons, 

 they flutter and squeal by hundreds, and even thousands; 

 and in the spring, in the morning or evening, one may 

 hear for several seconds a steady roar of wings, and see 

 the air in all directions filled with hundreds of blue lines 

 of wheeling, twisting, and chirping life. It is to this 

 habit of descending from the hills after the breeding - 

 season, and thus congregating in the valleys, that the bird 

 owes its name of "valley quail." 



Before the gun this bird makes in some respects more 

 sport than Bob White, while in other respects the shoot- 

 ing is decidedly inferior. For one who knows how to 

 handle the valley quail, the shooting is much less 

 fatiguing, and much more certain to yield a good bag, 

 than any shooting now to be found in the Eastern States. 

 The shooting is nearly all open or in low brush, under the 

 clearest of skies, with great mountains looking down upon 

 one from all directions. There are no bogs to flounder 

 through, no briars to tear and swear one' s way through, 

 no very big hills to climb, and no big woods to get lost 

 in. Either in a buggy or on horseback, one can ride 

 directly to the game, tie up, shoot awhile, rest awhile, 

 lunch and smoke, and shoot again. A large flock prop- 

 erly handled gives two or three men all the shooting 

 that rational creatures should wish; but if one wants to 

 be piggish, another large flock is easily found not far 

 away from where the first one became too much scattered 

 for further sport. 



But while one can bum more powder behind this bird 

 than behind Bob White, become far more excited, and, 

 when accustomed to it, can carry home a much larger 



