The Quail n 



and striking by small feet, until one yields and 

 slips away discomfited. 



To the victor belongs the spoils ; and while the 

 panting hero is endeavoring to shout his triumph, 

 forth from her secret hiding-place demurely steps 

 the cause of all the trouble, the woman in the 

 case, the trim, brown-throated hen. In all prob- 

 ability she has not cared a continental about 

 either warrior. As the racing men put it, her 

 business is to "pick a winner," and in so doing 

 she merely plays her part in Nature's wonderful 

 plan according to which the fittest survive for the 

 perpetuation of the race. Some very pretty love- 

 making follows, for my lady holds herself not too 

 cheaply. Sir Knight, though fresh from victory 

 bravely won, must still strut and coax and plead 

 — nay! perchance fight it all over again with 

 some new rival before she will bestow the favor 

 he craves. At last she yields, and to her credit 

 •be it said that once mated, she is a model wife. 

 It is questionable if her lord is equally irreproach- 

 able. Among well-informed sportsmen there is a 

 belief, to which the writer inclines, that the quail 

 is, at least to a certain extent, polygamous. It is 

 no uncommon thing to find nests containing 

 thirty or more eggs, which must have been depos- 

 ited by more than one hen. The fact of these 

 eggs hatching proves a mated hen, and not an 

 unmated wanderer laying as domestic fowl do, 



