r the skin make most uncomfortable and
persistent sores. The Quartermaster had an Indian tobacco-bag dangling
at his belt, and as it flopped in his progress it gathered prickers,
which it shortly transferred to his luckless legs, until he at last
detected the reason why he bristled so fiercely. And the poor dog--at
every covey we had to stop and pick needles out of him. The haunts of
the blue quail are really no place for a dog, as he soon becomes
useless. One does not need him, either, since the blue quail will not
flush until actually kicked into the air.

Jack and cotton-tail rabbits fled by hundreds before us. They are
everywhere, and afford good shooting between coveys, it being quick work
to get a cotton-tail as he flashes between the net-work of protecting
cactus. Coyotes lope away in our front, but they are too wild for a
shot-gun. It must ever be in a man's mind to keep his direction, because
it is such a vastly simple thing to get lost in the chaparral, where you
cannot see a hundred yards. Mexico has such a considerable territory
that a man on foot may find it inconvenient to beat up a town in the
desolation of thorn-bush.

There is an action about blue-quail shooting which is next to buffalo
shooting--it's run, shoot, pick up your bird, scramble on in your
endeavor to keep the skirmish-line of your two comrades; and at last,
when you have concluded to stop, you can mop your forehead--the Mexican
sun shines hot even in midwinter.

Later in the afternoon we get among bob-white in a grassy tract, and
while they are clean work--good dog-play, and altogether more
satisfactory shooting than any other I know of--I am yet much inclined
to the excitement of chasing after game which you can see at intervals.
Let it not be supposed that it is less difficult to hit a running blue
quail as he shoots through the brush than a flying bob-white, for the
experience of our party has settled that, and one gets ten shots at the
blue to one at the bob-white, because of their number. As to eating, we
could not tell the difference; but I will not insist that this is final.
A man who comes in from an all day's run in the brush does not care
whether the cook gives him boiled beans, watermelon, or crackers and
jam; so how is he to know what a bird's taste is when served to a tame
appetite?

[Illustration: 11 TOO BIG GAME FOR NUMBER SIX]

At intervals we ran into the wild cattle which threaded their way to
water, and it makes one