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52 • S P O R T I N G C L A S S I C S speechless with gratitude. "Be sure to include that scoundrelly Buck I hunt with," a friend grinned. "Whenever we begin to divide our birds, Buck always engages me in rapid-fire conversation, or distracts my attention in some way, and when I get home I find every chewed-up and over-shot bird in my half. Now, I ask you, is that etiquette?" A graceless acquaintance of mine confided unblushingly: "I hunt with a preacher who is the very soul of honor and generosity. Whenever he divides our birds, I always come out at the big end of the horn; so I always insist on his dividing them. He appreciates my showing so much confidence in him, too. That's ethical, isn't it?" Well, I reckon it is. The same sort of ethics that prompted me, as one of nine children, to pass around a platter of apples and courteously insist that each brother and sister help himself before I did. Figuring that each would be too polite to pick the biggest, I always saved my manners and wound up with the apple I had had my eyes on from the beginning. Thus, early in life I acquired a piece of useful information, namely and to wit: There is more than one way to skin a cat. n your gun and walk clean away. A boy is entitled to miss in privacy. There is another character you have doubtless encountered. I refer to the companion who always manages, regardless of where he is standing, to shoot at the same bird you shoot at— especially if the bird falls! He is notably "shut-mouth" about the coincidence unless something falls. There can be 20 birds in the rise. You deliberately pick out two that are hurtling through the treetops on your side and neatly drop them. As you step forward to pick them up, your companion says with disarming innocence: "Oh, excuse me. Did you shoot at those, too?" I have been suspicious of this character for years, but it's hard to prove anything against him in court. He is first cousin once removed to another nuisance you might have met in the field. While the dogs are holding the bevy, you and your companion map your strategy in gentlemanly fashion: He is to take the right segment, you the left. Then this scalawag almost invariably shoots on your side, apologizes lamely, and picks up the birds. His excuse? The birds crossed over while he was following them. Now they probably didn't, but they could have, because the birds were not let in on the arrangement in advance and did not know what was expected of them. So we mustn't be too hard on this gent. Besides, have you ever noticed that you usually get better shots on the other fellow's side than on your own? Damned if his birds don't seem to fly slower and straighter than mine! It's an axiom of bird shooting that companions must alternate on pointed singles. Of course, this does not hold on unadvertised singles that pop up without benefit of ceremony. Nor is this beautiful arrangement always feasible in woods shooting. But excusing the excusable, when such an agreement is made it should be scrupulously followed. Turnabout is not only fair play, but a great preserver of tempers and sweetener of dispositions. Every now and then, however, you run into a hunter who, after suggesting such a compact, repeatedly shoots your bird. "I forgot it was your turn," he weakly apologizes. "You can take the next one." And you can—if you beat him to it! "The real test of hunting manners comes at the end of the hunt," observed a spry old-timer who has been a fine partridge man for half a century. "It is the fairness and graciousness with which a man divides the day's bag with his companion. That, sir, is the real measure of a man's breeding." That sentiment awakened a cherished recollection from my boyhood days. While hunting with an elderly gentleman, I had disgraced myself by missing every shot I had. I was mortified by the prospect of returning home empty-handed and running the gauntlet of my brothers' scorn. But when we separated at nightfall, my fine gentleman quietly stuffed 11 birds into my jacket and made a heartsick country boy "Now, when this bird gets up, take your own good time. I won't shoot unless you miss with both barrels," he generously reassures you. And he keeps his promise. He doesn't shoot until you have missed with both barrels, which you nearly always do under the circumstances, for the simple reason that you shoot too fast out of politeness. the GreateSt QUail hUNtiNG Book ever A big covey of great American authors are showcased in The Greatest Quail Hunting Book Ever, recently published by Sporting Classics. 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