I was breaking camp on Bo and my first Nevada chukar and valley quail hunt when I realized that I didn't have a nice male valley quail for a mount. I knew where there was a decent covey of quail sorta on my way out of the mountains and swung by the spring for a look. That "look" turned up Bo's first state daily bag limit of 10 valley quail, and in less than an hour!
Finally, I had an excuse to scout across the border in Oregon before heading home. The valley looked "quaily" to me so I drove on to town and purchased a non-resident hunting license and lunch.
I don't know if every place I hunt has better burgers and chocolate malts than anywhere else I've ever been, or if it's hunting exhaustion that makes them so good. I called my wife while driving to the first public spring south of town, to say I wouldn't be home for another few days.
The first two track off the highway lead to a green spot on the mountainside and a small covey of valley quail scurried down a wash bank just ahead. The trees, vines and brush were characteristically thick and I wasn't sure I would be able to get a shot from the bottom as Bo scented the birds and hopped across the rocks to the far side. Soon, I could hear quail chirping and flushing when finally a pair crossed in front of me. I dropped both birds as they sailed over tree tops and Bo went up the bank after them.
She hunted and hunted for that pair of quail. We turned over rocks and dug under root wads. I had shot about 25 quail in Nevada and 15 chukar over the past few days and Bo didn't lose a bird, but after nearly an hour, I gave up without finding either of those Oregon quail.
Like you, losing a bird, let alone two, doesn't sit well with me so I left the area for a fresh start. After a few miles, I saw another green spot up a dry wash and Bo and I started over. I chose the dry wash because the two track followed the wet spring up the mountain and I was relatively certain that's where most bird hunters went. I was hoping to find October quail that hadn't been exposed to hunters.
Bo worked both sides of the wash as me gradually worked higher. Soon she appeared to be birdy along a steep bank and soon flushed a single quail. As I shot, a second bird flushed but this time I held fire. Bo scrambled around rocks and brush and soon scooped up her first Oregon valley quail. We ended the day with 17 quail and a determination to return someday and try for a double limit.