I grew up hunting wild quail in middle and south Georgia, over patch-work farms full of birds and good dogs ...first my grandfather's, then my own. Preserves were something I read about in magazines.

Then, starting in the'60s farmers in Georgia were encouraged to go to fence-row to fence-row cultivation and to plant any "waste land" in pine plantations. The quail began to disappear in my part of the country.

By the late '80s wild bird hunting was a waste of time. The first preserves began springing up around here. I still had my dogs, so I signed up for an expensive membership in one of these. My dogs thought they'd gone to some sort of heaven where all the birds too dumb to fly and were all sick or wounded or something. If I shot two on a covey rise the dogs would bring back five or so.

I gave it up and let my kennel die off while I got too old and fat to walk the woods all day. Despite an effort of late by the Dept. of Natural Resources to bring back the quail, the only quail shooting left around here is of the kick'em up variety. I still don't much like it, but I'll go 5 or 6 times a year now, when invited by others. It is too expensive and too dangerous to suit me...Geo