When I checked the quail today one was dead — Felicia, the great mother who hatched the babies this year. Judging by the mutilated corpse this wasn’t pecking by the others, but presumably a rat or stoat that slid into the run and out again. I buried her and set about to move the rest to a new spot. While doing that, Glee escaped. I hunted her with success and then another white one escaped and hid really well in some scrub. I hunted for ages, gave up, and had one last try. Success! Not my best day for quail!