The Valley Quails 



count of the bag at the day's end. Recall to our pleasant recollection 

 the skill of the cook who serves our birds and the daintiness of the white 

 meat, an ounce or two to a portion, that graces our banquets." Gentle- 

 men, I cannot do it. I wouldn't eat one of those pitiful remnants of 

 departed glory, unless I were starving; and I never was anywhere near 

 starving- — were you? Did you ever really need the flesh of a little bird, 

 a beautiful, happy bird? Forgive me and let me pass. 



The Valley Quail's day begins in some bush or tree — a live oak, as 

 like as not — where, in company with his fellows, he has spent the night 

 secure from all anxiety as to foxes or coyotes. 



After a visit to some spring or running stream where water is copi- 

 ously imbibed, the chief business of the day, if in spring, is foraging on 

 grass and other tender herbage; if in autumn, the gleaning of fallen weed- 



Taken in the Ojai 



A CRESTED BEAUTY 



FEMALE VALLEY QUAIL ON NEST 



Photo by Donald R. Dickey 



1579 



