4QO Quail and Grouse of the Pacific Coast 



But it makes a slight miscalculation about the 

 relative merits of the two men, and in trying to 

 dodge the tenderfoot it curves outward to where 

 the shot from your gun makes a tangent with its 

 course, and it goes whirling down out of a cloud 

 of feathers of white, chestnut, and slate-blue. 

 Tenderheart comes running from the wagon to 

 look at it, feels of its breast, and inquires about the 

 best mode of cooking it, and then looks around to 

 see what are the prospects of getting some more. 

 But you suddenly find the trees empty, the call 

 of the birds more rare and farther off. They are 

 only hiding more closely, but you do not know 

 that and think they are gone. I do not mean to 

 say that it would help you much if you did know 

 it, for it takes some time to realize the tramping 

 and retramping that must be done and the quick- 

 ness with the gun necessary to make a respectable 

 bag out of even the largest flock. But if you did 

 understand them and were properly dressed, you 

 could make a bag such as cannot be made to-day 

 on any game-bird east of the Rocky Mountains, 

 and use up more ammunition in doing it than on 

 any other bird that flies. But being a novice 

 with these birds, you decide that they are gone, 

 that this is not the best kind of ground anyhow, 

 and that something more open is desirable. In 

 which Tenderheart cheerfully concurs, for though 

 he might not admit it, he would like to see man 



