Death in the quail pen.

Last Tuesday John made a trip to a bird grower and bought two pair of quail.

He brought them home and put them in a pen he had built. He had furnished it with all the comforts. A log to hide against, water, and feed. One laid an egg.

Today John noticed one of the males had almost been pecked to death, The poor guy was laying in a corner. Many of the feathers on his back have been pecked off.

He has not been seen to move, The other male is as happy as a lark.

John and I are blue and puzzled. We feel sorry for the poor loser. I think that he is a goner.