222 OUR NATIONAL PARKS 



gazed in silent wonder for a moment, then ut- 

 tered a peculiar cry, which was followed by a lot 

 of hurried muttered notes that sounded like 

 speech. The others, of course, saw me as soon 

 as the alarm was sounded, and joined the won- 

 der talk, gazing and chattering, astonished but 

 not frightened. Then all with one accord ran 

 back with the news to the rest of the flock. 

 " What is it ? what is it ? Oh, you never saw 

 the like," they seemed to be saying. " Not a 

 deer, or a wolf, or a bear ; come see, come see." 

 " Where ? where ? " " Down there by that 

 tree." Then they approached cautiously, past 

 the tree, stretching their necks, and looking up 

 in turn as if knowing from the story told them 

 just where I was. For fifteen or twenty minutes 

 they kept coming and going, venturing within 

 a few feet of me, and discussing the wonder in 

 charming chatter. Their curiosity at last satis- 

 fied, they began to scatter and feed again, going 

 back in the direction they had come from; 

 while I, loath to part with them, followed noise- 

 lessly, crawling beneath the bushes, keeping 

 them in sight for an hour or two, learning their 

 habits, and finding out what seeds and berries 

 they liked best. 



The valley quail is not a mountaineer, and 

 seldom enters the Park except at a few of the 

 lowest places on the western boundary. It be- 

 longs to the brushy foothills and plains, orchards 



