Quail Hunting Tips

Gentleman Bob Now Wears Jeans

Quail hunting! That’s all it means when you say
“birding” in the south. But, as with many other outdoor pursuits, southern bird hunting has undergone major changes.
No longer the province of gentlemen shooters on vast plantations, both the birds and hunters have changed
habits. Smart gunners recognize that, and hunt for
success rather than image.

Upland bird hunting seasons will soon be upon us. Here in Kentucky, for instance, quail hunting season opens in less than a month.

Nothing evokes the essence of bird hunting so much as a classic plantation shoot.

Mule-drawn wagons, far-ranging pointing dogs, hunters on horseback, and a Julep or two after the day’s activities. Something we all dream of.

Sadly, such gunning is almost a thing of the past. There are still a few quail plantations scattered here and there through the Southland, and some private quail hunting clubs will, at a very high price, set up a traditional hunt for select members.

I’ve had the great good fortune of making such a hunt. It’s everything you’ve ever heard or read about such gunning, and, by day’s end, you feel as if you’ve fallen into a Nash Buckingham story.

Back in the day quail hunting could be a major production. Gunners actually used horses to follow the dogs. Typically, a brace of pointers (the only dogs Southerner’s considered worthy) would be dropped on the edge of a field. They’d run the perimeter until striking a scent trail left by birds who had walked in to feed. When the dogs went on point the hunters would ride up, dismount, and move in for the flush.

After busting the covey, singles would be hunted. Self-imposed limits would be imposed on how many birds could be taken from a covey, so as to preserve and protect it for the future. At that point they’d move on to another field, where a different pair of dogs were dropped.

But, like the lifestyle that ended at Appomattox Courthouse, that sort of quail hunting is mostly gone. The habitat has changed, the hunters have changed, and, most of all, Mr. Bob has changed. No longer the Antebellum Southern gentleman, he now has to root, hog, or die, just like the rest of us. And, in many regions, he’s doing it in the trees.

“Mexican quail,” an old-timer down in Grenada, Mississippi snorted. “They just don’t behave like real bobwhites.” And it’s become a refrain. “Mexican quail” echoes across the South. From Arkansas to North Carolina, from the Ohio River to the Suwannee, there is this deeply cherished belief that a strain of bobwhites, imported originally into Arkansas from Mexico, is responsible for us not finding quail in their traditional covers. These Mex birds, hunters lament all through quail hunting country, are different---preferring woods to fencerows, and flying instead of walking to feeding grounds.

A nice tale. But, like so much conventional wisdom, it’s all a bunch of that familiar barnyard product.

Basically, quail have changed their habits and habitat because we trained them that way. For 200 years we’ve been shooting the ones that walked from edges to feed plots. The aerobics nut, who choose to fly in for a snack, rather than walk, lived to pass on its genes. Natural selection, along with changing farm practices, are the reason quail take to the woods.

It’s the same process that resulted in pheasants that run instead of holding for the dog. Only the ringneck hunter never had the excuse of “Mexican pheasants” to blame. He just changed with the birds’ habits. Savvy bobwhite hunters have done the same. At least the successful ones have.

A biologist up in Illinois once described to me the perfect modern quail habitat. “Quail need primarily two kinds of cover: herbaceous and woody. Mixed grass and clover are preferred to alfalfa; the mixed stands are less dense.

“Shrubby cover such as provided by hedgerows, windbreaks, improved wood borders and odd areas are helpful in providing a diversified land pattern. Wild plum tangles, vine honeysuckle, blackberries, and clump planting of conifers provide needed escape cover.”

Can’t improve much on that. It tells you what quail look for. And, by the same token, it tells you where to look when quail hunting.

If you think you can leisurely follow the dog from covey to covey, you’re living in the past. That sort of hunting existed when Mr. Bob was a gentleman. Nowadays he wears jeans, and lives a hardscrabble life. Even when quail are found in traditional cover, they are in singles, small groups, and numbers that can hardly be dignified by the word covey. Basically you have to think in terms of rabbit hunting, as you bust through the brushy edges and overgrown weed fields.

Sometimes it seems you are crawling through gotcha bushes so thick you wonder how the birds, let alone the dogs, can get through it. You’ll tear your clothing, scratch your body, get mud and seeds in the gun’s action and barrel, step into drainage ditches you didn’t see---only to have a single bust wild at the end of all that. And then you’ll do it again. Some fun, huh?

For this kind of gunning, the lightest, fastest-swinging gun you can get makes sense. That’s why 20 gauges rule the quail hunting roost, nowadays, with 28 gauge guns pushing them hard. But, unless you are truly good with it (as opposed to just thinking you are), better skip the .410. There just isn’t enough punch or a high enough pellet count for the average shooter. Not in the heavy stuff.

For the 20 gauge I’d opt for one or 1 1/8 ounce of #7 ½ or 8 shot. In the 28 gauge, I like 7/8 ounce of shot, preferably #8.

Back in the day, bobwhite were thought of as gentlemen who were hunted by gentlemen. By and large, that meant double guns. I still prefer them for quail hunting (indeed, for almost all upland gunning), with a lightweight Spanish-made 28 gauge my favorite when I’m not using the Hollis & Sheath built back in the 19th century. Tom Armbrust gifted me with that little 28, and it’s a sweetheart.

Realistically, however, I recognize that most gunner today choose repeaters. This is one of the few times I opt for an auto, going with my old Remington 1100 LT 20 with the straight stock. Again, weight and swingability dictate my choice.

Even in the woods, or perhaps more so, there’s a tendency on the part of many gunners to shoot too quickly. You want to let the birds put some distance between the flush and the gun.

If you suffer from that shoot-too-quick syndrome there’s an easy cure. Just discipline yourself to count to three, slowly and deliberately, at the flush. Only when you’ve actually reached the third number do you mount the gun.

Try it. I guarantee your success rate will improve.