I had a great uncle that lived to hunt bobwhites in the Piedmont of NC He carried me a couple of times and it was nothing to run 6-8 coveys around town hauling his pointer and setter in the back of a station wagon. He once took me down to our family homeplace way out in the sticks and we could hunt and cross property lines at will all day long. On one memorable day I cut my finger to the bone peeling an apple with a Buck 110 and had some of that stuff to kill germs only meant for dogs put on my thumb that was like liquid fire, had a cold quail sandwich with white bread and mustard I'll never forget and honest to goodness after chasin' all these woods runnin' birds all day we walked into a covey in the open I guessed to be five times a normal sized covey of 8 birds. This was the end of quail hunting around here ca. 1976 It seems like a dream now as I don't remember the last bird I've seen or heard.
