[Illustration: YOUNG BOB WHITES _The birds in this group are seven weeks old._] The pursuit of Bob White is a blessed boon to many jaded and brain-wearied business and professional men. Some believe that they have lengthened their lives by trying to shorten his. How the bird has survived with so many “friends” thirsting for his blood is hard to tell; but for all his trustfulness he is not so easily taken. Many gunners have believed that he can sometimes fool the best dog by “holding his scent.” I have seen him several times squat close to the ground on the approach of a dog, draw his head flat between his shoulders, and “sit tight” while the dog poked along, his nose to the ground, absolutely unconscious of the whereabouts of the little bird; but let a man appear, and the bird shows more anxiety and takes greater pains to get away or hide. I have seen him, when alarmed, disappear as if he had put on a coat of invisibility, and then, when the danger was past, grow out of the scenery, and walk right toward me from the very spot on which my powerful glass had been focused all the time. How he does this is another story. Why talk about his habits? Everybody who does not know them can have a good time studying them; for his life is open for all to see. What concerns us most is how we can make this useful, companionable friend to man more plentiful. In the District of Columbia they have solved the problem by forbidding shooting for the last few years, and there in some places the chorus of Bob Whites sounds like that of the little frogs in springtime. A close season for five years on this bird would do more to stock the country than any other method now known; except, perhaps, in the northernmost part of its range, where it is sometimes almost exterminated by a severe winter. Eventually artificial propagation may solve our problem; for Bob White is a very prolific bird. THE WILD TURKEY [Illustration: Copyright, 1912, by Outdoor World and Recreation THE WILD TURKEY _Often called the grandest bird of America._] The ruffed grouse may be the king of game birds in the field; but the wild turkey, the largest game bird that flies, is to my mind king of them all on the table. A young wild turkey, well roasted, is a dish for the gods. The domesticated turkey is not in the same class; nor is it a descendant of our wild turkey. It was bred from the Mexican turkey, a bird of another race, not so handsome as ours, and having a white rump. This turkey was domesticated by the Aztecs, and hundreds of thousands were bred by them in domestication long before America was discovered by Columbus. Europeans received the bird from the hands of the Indians. The white man never has succeeded in domesticating any American game bird sufficiently to bring it into general use. The task still lies before us. The American Ornithologists’ Union now recognizes but one species and five subspecies of the wild turkey, all of which are natives of this continent.