IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 
A light snow had fallen the night before, making the track¬ 
ing of rabbits comparatively easy. The snow was not so good 
for the dog’s nose, however, but on a snowy day the quail do not 
fly so far, so we were at no disadvantage. The tracks of many 
rabbits showed that this game, at least, was plentiful. We had 
been walking about half an hour when Bud, who was a little to 
the r#ar of us, yelled out: “There goes a rabbit!” and to the 
left a little white streak went skimming along the stubble* 
followed by a charge of shot from Bud’s gun, which did not 
affect the bunny’s progress in the least. I then shot, and still 
he kept going at a lightning-like pace. Dad whistled and called, 
but Toby did not return, so we decided that he must be some- 
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where on point. We went over to the covert, a short dis- 
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tance away, and there, to Bud’s and my surprise, Toby was 
standing rigid as a statue. Dad went in and flushed the birds, 
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but we were too excited to shoot, because of the loud whirr, 
whirr, whirr of the birds as they flushed. We marked the 
singles, however, as they alighted, and soon Toby had another 
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* 
point> Dad flushed the bird and as it arose, I fired. I did not 
have any intimation that I would come within five feet of it 
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until Tobv, good dog that he was, brought the bird to me. That 
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was a proud moment for me, as this was my first quail. 
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