India is a land of wonders; but among the strange sights few are more
utterly ridiculous than that of a party of natives driving quail.
The quail-hunter throws a large white cloth over his head, which is
extended in front by means of two sticks held in the hands. Arrayed in
this manner, the quail-hunter performs various antics and movements
which would lead a looker-on to suppose him insane.
There is a method in his madness, however. This remarkable adjustment of
the white cloth is supposed to transform the man into a bull or other
horned animal. He pretends to paw the earth, tosses his make-believe
horns, turns round and round, pretending to scratch himself in true
bovine fashion. It is irresistibly comic to watch him, and a little
attention generally pleases him to such an extent that he will redouble
his efforts and multiply his ridiculous pranks until the spectator is
thrown into convulsions of laughter.
There are several distinct varieties of quail in India; they frequent
open places near rivers, keeping near the ground when flying, and
running rapidly among the grasses. The hunters spread fine nets around
two sides of the field, and at the end they place a large cage with one
or more decoy birds inside.
The idiotic-looking cow has all his wits about him. He proceeds warily;
his keen eye detects the coveys of quail, and sees which way they are
running. He is no more like a cow than that respectable animal is like a
cucumber, but his ruse succeeds wonderfully. He moves about, tosses his
head, switches his ingeniously contrived tail, and so manoeuvres that
he keeps the running quail away from the unprotected edges of the field.
When they get to the verge protected by the net they begin to take
alarm. They are probably a little uncertain about the peculiar-looking
"old cow" behind them, and running along the net, they see the decoy
quail apparently feeding in great security and comfort. The V-shaped
mouth of the large basket cage looks invitingly open. The puzzling nets
are barring the way, and the cow is gradually closing up behind.
As the hunter moves along, he rubs two pieces of dry stick gently up and
down his thigh with one hand, thus producing a crackling sound. It is
not enough to startle the birds into flight, but alarms them
sufficiently to make them get out of the way. One bird, perhaps a little
bolder than the others, irritated by the queer crackling sound, now
enters the basket, when the others follow like a flock of sheep, and
once in, the puzzling shape of the entrance prevents their exit.
Hunters will not unfrequently bag twenty or thirty brace of quail in one
field by this absurdly appearing but ingenious method.
[Illustration]