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Quote by Jim Casada

“When the covey flushes, if possible, the hunter should try to kill the first bird off the ground. If the bird doesn’t fall, shoot again. On the other, hand, if the bird does go down and the hunter feels compelled to shoot again, he has plenty of time to pick out a second bird. Good hunters avoid shooting into the middle of a covey. They pick out birds on the periphery, The scarcity of wild quail makes it mandatory not to shoot into a covey and risk wounding several birds. - Shooting Quail - A Primer By Dr Joseph C. Greenfield, Jr.”

Quote by Jim Casada

Book:The Greatest Quail Hunting Book Ever, Collector’s Edition
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The Greatest Quail Hunting Book Ever, Collector’s Edition

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Jim Casada

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“The man scuffs his boot. The lead dog switches his snout and points it downward. The man says the old cliché: “This is it.” He kicks, and the world erupts around him. The noise has something of the sound of an exploding landmine, something of the rapid belch of an Oerlikon 20 millimeter. It is otherwise indescribable. Small birds burst from the ground. They take off in all directions. They are traveling at more than 40 miles an hour, and they present a target as large as a big orange. If they are to be killed they must be killed before they have traveled 60 yards, and if the cover is heavy they may need to be shot within 20 yards. They may have to be shot from the hip, or off the biceps, or even off the nose. First, though, the gunner must select a bird from the thundering mass of rocketing fowl, because the man who shoots into the brown takes home no meat. A split-second selection must be made. The quail comes into the eye, the gun goes under the eye, the trigger is pressed, and if the man is good the bird drops in a shower of feathers. If the man is very good, he then switches to another bird, which he selects from the speeding gang, and fires again. If he is very, very good, another bird drops. - The Brave Quail By Robert Ruark”

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Book:The Greatest Quail Hunting Book Ever, Collector’s Edition
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“Suddenly the scene is frozen for you. The mental camera clicks with Spook mouthin’ his retrieve, and Polly chasin’ a cripple through the blackberry bushes, and Buck tenderly handin’ Pete one of his two kills. And the whole thing is etched on your memory like one of the frames in a slide-projector, full color. Dark green lob-lolly pines, backing golden strawfield, brown blobs of hunters, white setters, sky now dolomite blue, and cottontufts of clouds just touched with slanting sunshine. The day goes on, and there’s a fullness in it. The warmth of good companions, the steady, not-too-perfect dog work, the high excitement of the search, the pleasant lull between the points. - A Letter to My Cousin By David H. Henderson”

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Book:The Greatest Quail Hunting Book Ever, Collector’s Edition
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“Why hunt birds? The simple answer is that nothing, absolutely nothing, beats watching a pair of pointers cover a picturesque piece of ground in a workmanlike manner and slamming on brakes to a stylish point. Or an even better answer might be that nothing beats admiring your pointers as they precisely handle a running covey. This tableau, immediately followed by the feel of a fine double shotgun brought into play and accompanied by the thunderous sound of the covey flushing, is an experience without equal. There may be a few things I haven't tried, but nothing I have attempted, seen, or read about even comes close. - Why Hunt Birds? By Dr. Joseph C. Greenfield, Jr”

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Book:The Greatest Quail Hunting Book Ever, Collector’s Edition
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“Regla número uno que aprendí del maltrato: dejándote maltratar te convertís en un ser más débil y totalmente despreciable. La única forma de revertir esto es corriendo lejos de las personas que te agreden. También, podés soportar el maltrato hasta que un día te morís por haberte callado las cosas tanto tiempo, porque el maltrato llegó demasiado lejos. Esas cosas en el otro no podemos cambiarlas.”

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Book:Parálisis Onírica
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