
They flush with absolute disregard for shooting distances. 
HE blue quail of the arid South- 
west offers the hunter a form of 
sport quite different from that 
furnished by his cousin bob-white of 
the East and South. Radically differ- 
ent in method from the hunting of bob- 
white as it is, the chase of the run- 
ning quail has a thrill and a zest all 
its own. Coming to the table—and he 
only comes as a result of a hard hunt 
over the rocky wastelands of the semi- 
desert country—the blue quail fur- 
nishes a dish fully as toothsome as the 
bob-white. In fact, he forms a slight- 
ly better dish than the bob-white sim- 
ply because he is a slightly larger bird 
and consequently there is more of him 
to satisfy the ravenous appetite of the 
hunter. 
This little game bird with his slate- 
blue back and wings, his mottled yel- 
low-brown throat and breast, and his 
amazingly active legs furnishes rare 
sport provided the sportsman does not 
mind using up a lot of physical energy 
in bringing him to bag. About ten 
years ago, while living in southeast- 
ern New Mexico, a friend and I had a 
fine day’s sport with this active little 
fellow. He led us a merry chase, as 
is his custom, but in the end he re- 
warded us well for all our efforts, a 
thing which he by no means always 
does. 
Early one bright November morn- 
ing we boarded the northbound train 
132 
for a flag stop some twenty-five miles 
up the country, the starting point for 
a hunt we had planned and the thresh- 
old of a particularly good piece of blue 
quail country. Of course the train 
seemed slow, as any means of travel 
does when one is on his way to the 
hunting grounds, but it was still early 
when we dropped off as the train made 
a brief pause at the place where our 
campaign was to start. 
About a mile or so back along the 
track lay the beginning of a fine stretch 
of blue quail country, a perfectly typi- 
cal piece of territory of the kind pre- 
ferred by our feathered friends. Rare- 
ly found in the barren open plains, and 
still more rarely in the cultivated areas 
of the river valleys and irrigation belts, 
the blue quail prefers the broken, rocky 
hills and mesquite choked draws of 
the more remote country. He usually 
ranges far from the haunts of -man, 
a thing easy to do in the Southwest. 
The particular piece of territory 
consisted of two ranges of low 
hills, broken with numerous small 
_ washes and separated by a wide, sandy 
flat across which the railroad found the 
easiest path as it made a long eurve 
up out of the valley of the Pecos river. 
These hills formed an ideal quail coun- 
try as they abounded in rocks and mes- 
quite, the high cover of the latter fur- 
nishing an effective protection for the 
A Blue Quail 
Hunt 
in 
New Mexico 
If You’re Not Athletically 
Inclined You Had Better 
Leave This Sport Alone 
By L. R. FORNEY 
Photos by Jas. R. Parrell 
birds against the attacks of the nu- 
merous hawks. 
W/E were soon climbing the first of 
the little hills to the east of the 
railway, guns ready for anything that 
might turn up. These guns were not 
the short-barreled, open-bore guns of 
the bob-white country, but were long 
barreled, full choked, duck guns. The 
ordinary bob-white gun will get few 
birds from the coveys of blue quail. 
Short-range shots are rare and long- 
range shots are the rule. Our hopes 
beat high, for we had seen a covey 
running up a hillside near this point 
as we passed northward on the train. 
Sure enough we soon found our first 
covey. Reaching the top of the first 
hill, a small, brush-filled draw con- 
fronted us, on the opposite side of 
which was a covey of nearly a hun- 
dred of the birds we had come to hunt, 
just out of range. Coveys of such size 
were not uncommon some years ago. 
Over and over again I have seen coveys 
of no less than two hundred birds. 
We had no dogs with us as dogs are 
worse than useless for blue quail which 
simply wont lie to a dog. The birds 
sighted us even before we saw them 
and away they went making their es- 
cape in a manner all their own. They 
didn’t fly. The blue quail flies but lit- 
tle, depending, and wisely too, on his 
legs to aid his ecape. In fact, they 
