Quail Hunting's New Good Old Days, Part II

Can Bob come back in the Southeast?

It is a picture close to the heart of any Southern quail hunter yet somehow far away, like a faded image from a half-forgotten dream. Familiar is the dog on point, the mad flurry of wings as a covey bursts into flight, and a hunter preparing to pluck from the sky the single bobwhite he's picked from the bevy. The hunter appears cool and poised, as if he's accustomed to such action, and so perfect is his stance that he might make a model for a shooting-school advert. Unfamiliar are quail flushing in a landscape that is grassy and open and largely free of the tangles and scrubby cover that typically harbor isolated coveys of wild bobwhites today.

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