I Don't Know

Once there was a kind man. Every Tuesday and Friday he would walk to the local supermarket to buy his groceries. The route there took him past a house where several quails were kept in small bleak wire cages. The man could not help feeling sad that beings designed to hop and run and jump had their movements constrained by cages barely bigger than pieces of paper. Week after week he went past the quails, trying to not see them, but he did, and it always made him sad. Eventually he could bear his thoughts about the quails no loner, and left a note in the mailbox of the house, offering the owner to pay him handsomely if the quails could be released. When the owner received the note he thought to himself "why not? with that amount I can buy more quails and still have plenty left over. "
And so money was exchanged, and the man was given the quails inside a burlap bag. He took them to a local green lung alongside a little rivulet, where there was some dense bush which he believed would afford the quails some protection while they adjusted to their new life. He put out several dishes of food for them as well, hidden in different parts of the dense bushes, and water, to help them get through the first few days in their new environment. When he opened the bag the quails refused to emerge, but when he moved away they cautiously emerged, and moved into the thicket, with little cries the man hoped were cries of wonderment. He waited an hour, heard them vocalising, but did not see them again. As daylight started fading he returned home.
That night all the quails were killed by feral cats that lived in the same thicket.