skins are not very good this time of year."

"I couldn't resist bringing one of 'em down," said Shep.

"Just the way I felt," added Giant.

They continued on their way, and a few minutes later came to something
of a cleared spot along the watercourse. Here Snap leaped up, shotgun
in hand.

"Here's our chance, fellows!" he whispered. "All together."

He pointed to some low trees beyond the clearing. The branches
were thick with quail. All understood and took up their firearms.

"I'll shoot high, Shep can shoot low, Giant to the left and Whopper
to the right," commanded the leader of the club. "All ready?"

"Yes," was the low answer, and the four weapons went off almost as
one piece. There was a great fluttering in the trees and five quail
were seen to drop. Then two others flew around in a fashion that
told plainly they were seriously wounded.

"Come on, we must get them!" cried Giant, and leaped forward. As the
two wounded birds flew close together he blazed away a second time,
and the game dropped like a stone. The rest of the quail were now out
of sight.

"Seven quail!" cried Snap, enthusiastically. "I don't call that half
bad."