3 86 Quail and Grouse of the Pacific Coast 



emergency; but it is no easy matter to cultivate 

 the high speed and endurance necessary, and at 

 the same time restrain the carelessness such a 

 pace is sure to cause. When you consider that 

 the finest eastern dog is nowhere in this race, or 

 if he is, is liable to be worthless in a short time, 

 you can understand the task breeders and trainers 

 have had. But the dog rises to the emergency, 

 and as the quails annually learn more about the 

 range of a gun and the speed of man, so the dog 

 learns to go faster without flushing them and how 

 to crowd them without passing the danger line, 

 until the contest of brute against brute is now the 

 finest exhibition on earth, and enough to reward 

 one for a long tramp with the gun left at home. 



THE MOUNTAIN-QUAIL 



When we climb the larger hills of the Pacific 

 Coast to where the perennial brooks sing down 

 dark defiles, and the columbine and the tiger-lily 

 begin to flame from deeper shades, we hear a 

 ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-chee-ah from the dense green of the 

 lilac or the bristling red of the manzanita, so 

 plaintive yet so sweet that we are at once brought 

 to a halt. Or along the hills around your camp 

 you may be awakened from your morning nap by 

 a cloi-cloi-cloi-cloi-cloi as silvery as ever fell from 

 feathered throat. And it may swell again at 

 eveningtide where the mimulus pours its fountain 



