THE BIRD THIEF

Polka worked her butt off. Every possibility was relentlessly investigated, quartering back and forth, a super-sensitive nose driven by power and energy from the spaniel’s body, it was shear poetry in motion.

But it was difficult and hard work, honest work that made every bird bagged a prize. There were no easy birds. If they did not flush far out ahead and way out of effective shotgun range, they flushed behind bushes without offering a chance. You would hear them take off, but could not see them at all. Frustrating. They are clever birds those Cape spurfowl. Sticking to the thickly vegetated valley bottoms it was difficult to get clear shots, mostly the birds ran like hell, staying well out of reach