We hear a great deal in these days about abundant physical exercise as a
necessary factor in the maintenance of sound health and vigor. This is
so universally and persistently enjoined upon us by those whose studies
and efforts are devoted to our bodily welfare that frequently, if we
withhold an iota of belief concerning any detail of the proposition, we
subject ourselves to the accusation of recklessly discrediting the laws
of health.
While beyond all doubt a wholesale denial of the importance of physical
exertion to a desirable condition of bodily strength would savor of
foolish hardihood, we are by no means obliged to concede that mere
activity of muscles without accompaniment constitutes the exercise best
calculated to do us good. In point of fact we are only boldly honest and
sincere when we insist that really beneficial exercise consists as much
in the pursuit of some independent object we desire to reach or gain by
physical exertion, coupled with a pleasant stimulation of mental
interest and recreation, as in any given kind or degree of mere muscular
activity. Bodily movement alone, undertaken from a sense of duty or upon
medical advice, is among the dreary and unsatisfying things of life. It
may cultivate or increase animal strength and endurance, but it is apt
at the same time to weaken and distort the disposition and temper. The
medicine is not only distasteful, but fails in efficacy unless it is
mingled with the agreeable and healing ingredients of mental recreation
and desirable objects of endeavor.
I am convinced that nothing meets all the requirements of rational,
healthful outdoor exercise more completely than quail shooting. It seems
to be so compounded of wholesome things that it reaches, with vitalizing
effect, every point of mental or physical enervation. Under the
prohibitions of the law, or the restraints of sporting decency, or both,
it is permitted only at a season of the year when nature freely
dispenses, to those who submit to her treatment, the potent tonic of
cool and bracing air and the invigorating influences of fields and trees
and sky, no longer vexed by summer heat. It invites early rising; and as
a general rule a successful search for these uncertain birds involves
long miles of travel on foot. Obviously this sport furnishes an
abundance of muscular action and physically strengthening surroundings.
These, fortunately, are supplemented by the eager alertness essential to
the discovery and capture of game well worth the effort, and by the
recreative and self-satisfying complacency of more or less skillful
shooting.
In addition to all this, the quail shooter has on his excursions a
companion, who not only promotes his success, but whose manner of
contributing to it is a constant source of delight. I am not speaking of
human companionship, which frequently mars pleasure by insistent
competition or awkward interference, but of the companionship of a
faithful, devoted helper, never discouraged or discontented with his
allotted service, except when the man behind the gun shoots badly, and
always dumbly willing to concede to the shooter the entire credit of a
successful hunt. The work in the field of a well-trained dog is of
itself an exhibition abundantly worth the fatigue of a quailing
expedition. It behooves the hunter, however, to remember that the dog is
in the field for business, and that no amount of sentimental admiration
of his performances on the part of his master will compensate him, if,
after he has found and indicated the location of the game, it escapes
through inattention or bad shooting at the critical instant. The
careless or bungling shooter who repeatedly misses all manner of fair
shots, must not be surprised if, in utter disgust, his dog companion
sulkily ceases effort, or even wholly abandons the field, leaving the
chagrined and disappointed hunter to return home alone--leg weary,
gameless and ashamed. He is thus forced to learn that hunting-dog
intelligence is not limited to abject subservience; and he thus gains a
new appreciation of the fact that the better his dog, the better the
shooter must know "what to do with his gun."
I do not assume to be competent to give instruction in quail shooting. I
miss too often to undertake such a _role_. It may not, however, be
entirely unprofitable to mention a fault which I suppose to be somewhat
common among those who have not reached the point of satisfactory skill,
and which my experience has taught me will stand in the way of success
as long as it remains uncorrected. I refer to the instinctive and
difficultly controlled impulse to shoot too quickly when the bird rises.
The flight seems to be much more speedy than it really is; and the
undrilled shooter, if he has any idea in his mind at all, is dominated
by the fear that if the formality of aiming his gun is observed the
game will be beyond range before he shoots. This leads to a nervous,
flustered pointing of the gun in the direction of the bird's flight, and
its discharge at such close range that the load of shot hardly separates
in the intervening distance. Nine times out of ten the result is, of
course, a complete miss; and if the bird should at any time under these
conditions be accidentally hit, it would be difficult to find its
scattered fragments. An old quail shooter once advised a younger one
afflicted with this sort of quick triggeritis: "When the bird gets up,
if you chew tobacco spit over your shoulder before you shoot."
It is absolutely certain that he who aspires to do good quail shooting
must keep cool; and it is just as certain that he must trust the
carrying qualities of his gun as well as his own ability and the
intelligence of his dog. If he observes these rules, experience and
practice will do the rest.
I hope I may be allowed to suggest that both those who appreciate the
table qualities of the toothsome quail, and those who know the keen
enjoyment and health-giving results of their pursuit, should recognize
it as quite worth their while, and as a matter of duty, to co-operate in
every movement having for its object the protection, preservation and
propagation of this game. Our quail have many natural enemies; they are
often decimated by the severity of winter, and there are human beings so
degraded and so lost to shame as to seek their destruction in ways most
foul. A covey of quail will sometimes huddle as close together as
possible in a circle, with their heads turned outward. I have heard of
men who, discovering them in this situation, have fired upon them,
killing every one at a single shot. There ought to be a law which would
consign one guilty of this crime to prison for a comfortable term of
years. A story is told of a man so stupidly unsportsmanlike that when he
was interfered with as he raised his gun, apparently to shoot a quail
running on the ground, he exclaimed with irritation: "I did not intend
to shoot until it had stopped running." This may be called innocent
stupidity; but there is no place for such a man among sportsmen, and he
is certainly out of place among quail.
It is cause for congratulation that so much has been done for quail
protection and preservation through the enactment of laws for that
purpose. But neither these nor their perfunctory enforcement will be
sufficiently effective. There must be, in addition, an active sentiment
aroused in support of more advanced game legislation, and of willing,
voluntary service in aid of its enforcement; and in the meantime all
belonging to the sporting fraternity should teach that genuine
sportsmanship is based upon honor, generosity, obedience to law and a
scrupulous willingness to perpetuate, for those who come after them, the
recreation they themselves enjoy.