old school bobs or quail

only a pointer

only a pointer

Banned
how many on this forum truely know the differnce? for you old timers lets hear your stories and how you know the difference
 
Well here goes my recollection. The old quail were noticeably bigger, yellow legged, favored open woodlots, fallow fields, didn't run from dogs, set your watch by their routine, found in smaller coveys. Some blame cross breeding with mexican imports, others blame evolution, reasoning that the birds were pressured and the non runners, slower flying, larger birds, just gave way to the disappear in a whisp of smoke, flush wild, run like commanches, birds we have now. Reality is probably all of the above. Lots of people released lots of different strains of birds, the wildlife departments included, birds were pressured as more hunters took to the field, habitats evolved in a negative way, birds had to adapt too!
 
Your description reminds me of my Dad & uncle when I was 14 -16 years old, in the 1950's. They would encounter running birds and referred to them as the D... Mexican quail. I miss the quail & pheasant hunting as it was then and into the later 1960's. Today I am pleased, and fortunate to encounter either running quail or pheasants.
 
In the old days I don't remember quail landing in trees. I have seen this twice in the last 2 years.
 
only a pointer said:
how many on this forum truely know the differnce? for you old timers lets hear your stories and how you know the difference
Click to expand...

The term Bobs came from the deep southern confederate states of South Carolina & Georgia region of the country. Back in the day’s South Carolina, for instance, whose quail hunting was un-surpassed by that of any of the unreconstructed sisterhood. At that time the colored Negro population was most concentrated in the famed low-country, where quail hunting was second to none!

A conversation in the deep south in those day’s would have sounded something like this:

Hunter: “Are there any birds around here?”
“Naw-Sir boss, he would reply promptly”
Hunter: “But I understand that there are a number of coveys hereabouts. Haven’t you seen any of them?”
“Naw-Sir boss.”
Hunter: “Now how’s it I hear’d you tell a man about a covey of birds around here the other day”
He pauses, wrinkles his eye brow in an effort at recollection and grinned confidently,
“Oh dat covey of Bobs! Right down yanner by de rice patch, sah”
“didn’t no mean Bobs boss”
 
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