106 
Forest and Stream 
GLORIOUS DAYS WITH THE QUAIL 
TRAMPING THE FIELDS FOR BOB WHITE BRINGS PERHAPS THE 
GREATEST SATISFACTION AS WE LOOK BACK ON THE PAST SEASON 
By F. A. BEAUCHAMP 
H OW often has it happened that, 
after spending valuable time an¬ 
ticipating and making elaborate 
plans to hop out early next 
morning and be into the hunting places 
before sunrise, it has turned off cold 
during the night so that when the old 
alarm clock started its tale of woe you 
regretted ever having made any plans at 
all. Then you remember having told 
Bill to be on time, and in another 
moment you are dressed and your en¬ 
thusiasm is at a higher pitch than ever, 
for you are now actually about to start. 
It was just that same old thing over 
again on this particular morning that 
Bill and I had planned to tramp the 
fields after Bob-white, and I had scarcely 
finished a quick breakfast when some 
one called, and well did I know that call. 
Bill said he would be on schedule time 
and I knew that he was not given to 
making idle remarks. 
“Aren’t you ready yet?” he demanded 
sharply as I hurried out to greet him. 
Such a person as Bill would not think 
of stopping a few minutes to warm be¬ 
fore a fire. He had started to a quail 
cover two miles away and wanted to go 
right then. Quickly I scrambled into a 
heavy coat, grabbed my gun, and has¬ 
tened to the front gate, where Bill was 
waiting. It was the first day of the 
season ! Ah ! That 
magic thought 
our feet with a short rasping sound. The from home. But we must remember we 
old dog obeyed commands willingly, but were expecting the first shot on the first 
the yet unruly pups ranged widely. 
Presently the first evidence of sunrise 
came over the low-lying hills as we were 
nearing the cornfield. It was then that 
trigger 
fingers became nervous from 
lack of practice during the off season. 
Our greatest intention was to get the 
most out of this first day of the season 
as we possibly could. 
As we climbed over a fence which 
separated the field from a meadow the 
creaking of rusty wire sent several 
crows high up into the air, circling and 
day of the season. And soon enough 
our expectations were realized. How 
gracefully the old dog did her work, al¬ 
ways obeying commands like the veteran 
that she was. One of the pups tried to 
do his best. The others acted as if un¬ 
decided as to what to do, but we hac! 
little time for them now. We were 
thinking ahead. 
The birds were well bunched, and in a 
moment there came that familiar whir 
as a full-sized covey shot into view a! 
once. The still, frosty air was rent with 
four shots that were almost instanta¬ 
neous. Just as quickly as that volley ol 
shot left the muzzles of our guns al 
nervousness left us. The old trigger in¬ 
stinct had returned. We remembered ii 
all now. But such results from thosf 
first four shots—only one bird wa; 
down! Neither of us made any remark 
but an expression of haggardness ap 
peared on Bill’s face as he carelessh 
shoved in fresh cartridges. We startec 
on. Wait a minute! What’s this? Tipwa: 
making a perfect point with two pup 
backing her—and right under my fee 
too! As quick as thought three bird' 
darted into the air. It was a perfectly 
good shot for me, but I fumbled arounc 
a bit and before I could get the sight: 
lined my deal 
aroused wonderful 
expectations with¬ 
in us that morn¬ 
ing. How long 
we had waited for 
this day and how 
long it seemed 
since the last sea¬ 
son had passed! 
There were 
others besides our¬ 
selves that were 
interested. O 1 d 
Tip, so named be¬ 
cause of the way 
she walked, and 
her three pups 
that we had been 
training for sev¬ 
eral months past, 
seemed to know 
When dogs are working well and quail lie close 
companion h a c 
crumpled two a 
one shot and th< 
other one was ou 
of range. I en 
vied Bill his satis 
faction as h < 
mumbled, “You’l 
have to hurry uj 
when you g e 
ahead of me. Yoi 
know I never wai 
on the other fel 
low. Guess I ’ n 
even on shell 
now. What say? 
But as I ha< 
nothing to say w- 
moved on, bag 
gmg n u m e r o u 
what was at hand. 
What hunter is there who has not seen 
and appreciated just such a sight as we 
saw that morning? Surely it was worth 
hesitating a moment to watch those dogs 
as they scampered about as though their 
expectations were running equally as 
high as ours. Shortly we were on our 
way toward a previously located corn¬ 
field joining the river bottom. A heavier 
frost than usual had fallen the night be¬ 
fore, which made brisk walking pleasant, 
cawing as they always do. Suddenly a 
squirrel that had been feeding in the 
corn hustled away toward the woods and 
now and then we heard the shrill notes 
of a blue jay from near the river. We 
were now well into the field and two 
weeks ago, when we were training the 
pups, we had found several coveys in 
this vicinity. Surely they were feeding 
somewhere near. Old Tip might stop 
them any moment now. Why did 
singles and flush 
ing- a fresh covev as often as could b 
desired, but with only ordinary shot 
which, of course, never remain in one’ 
memory. 
A S the morning passed the dogs 
tongues began to loll out, for th 
on 
that nervousness increase ? Eyes began 
and we were soon striking a regular to water slightly too. Such had not 
pace as the brittle grass crumpled under been the case when we were on the way 
sun was very warm now and the ai 
was still—a perfect autumn day. Th 
shooting began to lull, for the bird 
seemed to have all disappeared and w 
knew they had left the morning fee 
and had taken to cover of brush an 
(Continued on page 158) 
