220 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING. 
the ground, and told him he had better seek some other 
quarters for his shooting. He complied, by joining our 
comrades, but as they also refused to shoot in his com- 
pany, he was compelled to go home. We shot up to eleven 
o’clock, and-scored twenty brace, and knowing it would 
be a comparative waste of time to work during the mid- 
dle of the day, we returned to the house and remained 
there until four o’clock. This time was not idly spent, 
however, for the party utilized it in discussing the hab- 
its of quails, the proper charges for guns, and the various 
methods of shooting. When these subjects were exhausted 
they related yarns about dogs, wonderful shots, and ad- 
ventures in the field. Some of these were exceedingly 
“tall,” but as they were intended to be tall, and were full 
of grim humor, they were greeted with hearty laughter. 
We sallied out again in the evening, and though the sky 
was somewhat murky, we managed to flush several bev- 
ies, despite their cfforts to baffle the dogs and keep under 
cover, and made a fair score. We had shots of all kinds 
at them, straight away, quartering, towering, and 
“skew ways,” as my associate expressed it, and bagged 
eleven brace in an hour and a half. 
As it was getting too late to shoot any more, we started 
homeward, but we had not gone far ere the sky became 
so dark that we could not see ten paces. We were there- 
fore compelled to flounder along the best way we could, 
and this resulted in several tumbles head foremost into 
bushes or tall grass. We were cheered on our way by the 
loud and melancholy howling of prairie wolves, whose 
lugubrious tones reminded me of wailing squaws at an 
Indian wake, but the humorist of the party explained 
that they were ‘‘fatherless orphans crying for their 
mothers.” On reaching the house we found a_ hot 
dinner awaiting us. When that was finished, the inci- 
dents of the day were fully discussed, and all concluded 
that quail shooting over dogs was splendid sport. The 
