Downy chicks set about immediately eating bugs and seeds, and the rapidly growing birds need water. In a matter of days from hatching they are capable of flight. They flit about for short distances. They still rely on their parents for protection, who in the face of danger feign injury to draw away attention. Rain, the provider of a universal need, is also a natural enemy. Though not common, heavy prolonged summer rains can cause hypothermia and mortality in the young, vulnerable birds.

The families stay together until about early October; the family bond weakens and the birds become more social and start to covey up. By late autumn, the young have taken on the appearance of their parents and have achieved their maximum size, about half a pound, and that's when bird, dog, and hunter might meet.

The habitat improvements that Hay is making to benefit mostly young prairie chickens will help quail, too, there's no doubt. "Anything you do for one species, it splashes over to other species," said Hay with a countenance of confidence cultivated by living a lifetime on the range. "More grasses in the fenced-off areas mean more bugs for prairie chicken and quail."

As more bird habitat is improved, the bird hunting is bound to improve, too. But in a way, I'm wondering from this weekend's experience how you'd make a great thing even better. Pointers and flush dogs worked in front of us, quartering from side to side, filling their noses with scents. To a dog, the world is a smell, and to a bird dog, bird scent is exhilarating. You can tell when a dog's scented a bird.

"They're getting birdy," warned Bob King, as he trilled commands to his brown pudel pointers on a distinctive whistle. "We got a point." The unusual flat-coated breed of German stock is ideal for desert bird hunting. Their endurance is incomparable, and they are equally versatile.

The two dogs locked up on point, their heads laid low and nearly tucked into a yucca. Wayne Wolf started to walk in on the point, but our two black Labs, Claire and Catfish, beat him to it. Despite all the warning in the world, I got a start when a covey of some 25 birds took to the wind in a whir of wings. The air space between us got wide quickly, and only Wolf had a shot. He was right on, fluid, probably not unlike a caught pass in the end zone of yesteryear. The black Labs competed for the right to retrieve.

It's easy to see why, despite the benefit of a modern firearm and bird dogs with all the heart in the world, hunting has a minimal impact on quail numbers. I got a remedial course in the predator-prey relationship when large coveys got up. A single bird getting up by itself is a lot more vulnerable to the shotgunner than any bird in a large noisy covey getting up in any and all directions. You have a harder time drawing a bead on any bird in the latter case.

"The birds evidently were most numerous in the extreme southeast corner of the state and in the Canadian River Valley, near Logan. Today there is hardly more than a trace of the native birds in this habitat. Their disappearance is wholly due to the destruction of ground cover - weeds and grasses. I was able to learn of three birds having been seen in the sandhills east of Portales, near the Texas line, in April 1926, and a few have managed to exist along the lower Dry Cimarron in Union County. Much of the eastern and southern sections of the state is suitable in altitude, topography, and climate to the bob-white, but nowhere does favorable protective cover exist continuously ... such areas are exposed to grazing abuse."

Ligon knew the cause and effect on bird numbers. King and Hay have a cause, and are trying to effect a change - and it seems to be working. That is, if the number of birds flushed and the number of missed shots are any proxy measure of bird habitat.

As our hunt drew to a close, the wind whipped hard over the plains, putting dust everywhere. I broke open my over-and-under; wind in the barrels sounded like an out-of-tune symphonic wind instrument. The plains of the east are harsh to man and birds. Cat's claw, prickly pear, snakeweed, and Spanish dagger - the plant names speak of harshness, of unpleasant human experiences - but the birds survive, and my less-than-stellar performance with a .20-gauge doesn't present too much of a problem for them.

Outdoor Adventures, Bob Gerding, www.bobsoutadv.com; 505-299-5204.