The Quail 63 



it is astonishing how far some men will go in 

 their eagerness to make the heaviest bag. 



An instance of this may be referred to. A 

 certain, or rather a very uncertain, man of great 

 ability and high social position once invited the 

 writer to join him for a day's quail-shooting. He 

 furnished the trap, dog, and lunch, and during 

 the drive out and three-fourths of the shooting 

 he was as pleasant a host as man could desire. 

 The sport proved excellent and by mid-afternoon 

 the bag was a heavy one, the writer having two 

 or three birds the better of it. In following the 

 game a series of thickets was entered, a peculiar- 

 ity of the growth being that, while very dense 

 and baffling from about waist-high upward, it 

 was comparatively open below, as though the spot 

 had been at one time under water. 



While the guns were some distance apart, an 

 unexpected grouse roared up directly in front of 

 the writer. The shot was an extremely difficult 

 one, — a guess through the leaves, — yet there 

 was that peculiar feeling which tells a man when 

 he is exactly right. It was followed by a distant 

 thump on the ground and a somewhat prolonged 

 buzzing of wings. This induced the writer to 

 squat down and peer away through an opening 

 below the roof-like cover. He saw the wings of 

 the grouse as it struggled, and in a moment a 

 boot followed by a hand came into view. The 



