(Plate XIII.) 
THE VALLEY QUAIL. 
Lophortyx Califosnica (Shaw) Bp. 
This is the common Quail of the Pacific Coast, to which it is 
closely restricted all the way from the Columbia River to Cape St. 
Lucas. Its name is an apt one, since it is rarely found at heights 
exceeding three or four thousand leet, beyond which it is replaced 
by the Mountain Quail {Oreortyx pirtus). It “inhabits the prai¬ 
ries and the grain fields of the cultivated districts* and frequents 
the thickets which border the streams, usually in coveys of from a 
dozen to a hundred individuals, except during the breeding sea¬ 
son, when it is found only in pairs. Like the Eastern Quail, the 
male bird is very fond of sitting on some stump or log projecting 
above the grass and weeds which conceal his mate and nest or 
brood, and, especially in the early morning, uttering his peculiar 
cry, — whistle it can hardly be called.” This cry is coarse and 
unmusical, and may be represented by the syllables kuck-kuck- 
kuck-ktw with the accent on the last. 
In August the Quails unite into bevies, which sometimes accu¬ 
mulate into large Bocks. In one of his sketches Mr. Win. M. 
Tilcston describes such a flock which he met with in San Ga¬ 
briel Valley, Los Angeles County. Southern California, one 
Christmas Day. “We were on the road, and the Quails were 
following the dry, sandy bed of what had once been a stream. 
There they were, at least a thousand of them, dodging in and out 
between the low-growing prickly pear or tuna bushes, their leath¬ 
ery crests quivering as they ran and the burnished brown of their 
backs glancing in the bright sunlight.” 
Determining to have some sport out of the flock, Mr. Tileston 
and his companion organized a campaign. The birds showed no 
disposition to fly, but ran along at just about the same speed as 
their own, so they turned out of the road, and actually drove the 
Quails steadily before them toward desirable ground in a patch 
of long- yellow grass. Soon his companion alighted with his gun 
to act as rear guard until, by rapid driving, much vociferation and 
cracking of whip, Mr. Tileston turned the flank of the flock and 
forced them into the grass with a great whirr ol countless pinions. 
There was no fear but that the birds would stay there, and the 
horses were leisurely unharnessed for the mid-day halt. But let 
the sequel be in the writer's own phrase: — 
“ The grass was almost knee high, but in scattered patches, be¬ 
tween which grew the everlasting tuna; at the roots of all oi them 
a burrow was invariably to be found. ‘ Look out!' I cried, as 
Rose, catching the scent of the nearest bird, came to a point. 
‘Walk him up. Fred, and try your first California Quail. Don’t 
shoot too quick; there are. no swamps here tor the birds to make 
for; and besides, there are plenty of them. bred took a step in 
iront of Rose and up jumped the birds. Fred fired too soon, as 
I knew he would, and missed clean. ‘X T o matter, old fellow, they 
all do it at first. When I came here I thought I could kill Quails 
as easy as I could roll off a log, but I found 1 had almost a new 
business to learn, I think ii anything this bird is swifter than 
our s in his flight, but he goes as straight as an arrow, and you 
must hold straight. Try it again; Rose is on another point al¬ 
most without leaving her tracks.' This time Fred was more suc¬ 
cessful. Taking it more coolly, he covered his bird carefully and 
cut it down cleanly. I shall never forget his astonishment, how¬ 
ever, as Rose, the moment she saw the bird drop, rushed for it 
and brought it back in her mouth, 
“‘Why, my dear fellow, I thought you said your dog was 
broken !' 
‘“So she is, Fred, for this shooting.You see all these 
rabbit and squirrel holes about, scarcely a yard of ground clear of 
them? Well, late in the season these Quails will carry off more 
shot than any bird of their size in the world. You have seen how 
they can run, and a wounded bird is a lost bird unless you can 
catch him before he can get to a hole, into which he will invaria¬ 
bly run if he can. Well, after a while, when I found I was losing 
too many birds, 1 got in the habit of sending Rose for a bird the 
moment it was down, and the consequence is that I rarely lose 
1 >» 
one. 
This habit of hiding away to die is one of their vexatious ways; 
another is, that often they will not lie well to the dog, and when 
flushed are likely immediately to resort to the branches of some 
tree and skulk among the foliage. “ As they grow older and 
strong of wing, they By further, separate more readily, and more 
rarely take to trees: and sometimes, before they are fully.grown, 
they are found to have already become wary and difficult of ap¬ 
proach. As one draws near where a covey is feeding, a quick, 
sharp cry from the bird who first notices the approach alarms the 
whole, and is quickly repeated by the rest, as they start to run, 
betraying their course by the rustling of dried leaves,” 
Their flesh is of equal excellence with that of Bob-White. 
