The Mountain Quails 



■^WtCfiKooke 



MOUNTAIN QUAIL 



TWO SENSES minister chiefly to our knowledge of birds, namely, 

 sight and hearing. There are observers, and some of them very keen bird- 

 men, who seem scarcely to be aware that birds have voices. Yet the infor- 

 mation gained by the ear, if more limited in scope, is much more abundant, 

 more stimulating or seductive, and more natural withal. For a bird under 

 conscious survey, whatever his reactions, is scarcely natural. Often he is 

 tense or distraught, but oftener still he is tame, timid, and subdued; 

 whereas, a bird at a little distance, unaware of your presence, may enact 

 a vocal drama of domesticity whose every line you may read; or he may 

 utter his heart so fully, that you could scarcely wish to see the painted clay 

 which gave utterance to such aspiration or purified desire. For myself I 

 am content that the Hermit Thrush should be a voice of the high Sierras, 

 and I am content that the Mountain Quail sounds a hundred bugling notes 

 to one exposure of a skulking or a scurrying form. 



The Mountain Quail's is the authentic voice of the foothills, as well 

 as the dominant note of Sierran valleys and of bush-covered ridges. 

 Spring and summer alike, and sometimes in early autumn, one may hear 

 that brooding, mellow, slightly melancholy too' wook, sounding forth at 



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