Okay, so the picture below misrepresents my success--my hunting partner put all his quail in with mine
That's OK Don. Here's the story "edited" for the Internet so as to fit the picture. 
My 2-year-old male German shorthair Gauge was already excited when I parked the truck at our favorite quail hunting spot. I think he must have caught scent of the first covey when I opened the door to let him out. He began ranging the scrub upwind of the truck as I loaded my 12 gauge Navy arms Pietta double barrel caplock.
I had just seated the overshot card on the second barrel when he came to a classic point fifty yards out. When I eased up behind him and whispered a word of praise the covey of five Gambles broke for the clear blue sky, and the first two birds fell to the Pietta's smoky roar. What a great way to start the day. We didn't follow up on the singles because I never take more than two birds from a covey of that size.
A twenty minute walk to the West brought us to a small ravine we know well. It always holds a bird or two. I could tell by the way Gauge locked up that this was going to be special. When I kicked the brush a few feet from his nose a fat scaled quail broke for the sky. In my excitement I muffed the first shot, but dropped him with the second barrel. I could tell by Gauges stare into my eyes as he retrieved the bird that he was not happy with the miss. Dogs are so judgmental.
We began a wide circle intended to take us back to the truck and it wasn't long before Gauge was locked up again. It turned out to be the biggest covey of Gambles we've ever encountered. I don't know how many birds there were, but they scattered like fourth graders let out for recess. I took one to the left and one to the right. Gauge approved, forgiving my earlier miss.
Back at the truck we shared a sandwich as we admired the five birds. "Let's head for the house fella", I said. "We don't want to take any more birds from this area. Tomorrow we'll try the old Landry ranch up north."
Gauge & me & quail:
