228 HOMING WITH THE BIRDS 



robins, orioles, catbirds, thrushes, and blackbirds, 

 which pour a confusion of song around the Cabin; 

 but in winter, when he has only chickadees, jun- 

 coes, and titmice, with an occasional song of the 

 cardinal, with which to compete, he easily holds the 

 centre of the stage as the most continuous and 

 melodious performer. 



Dropping in among the other winter singers 

 and at times in the summer as well, comes the 

 metallic "Chink, chink" of the downy wood- 

 pecker. If he has any other song I am not familiar 

 with it. 



At the same time the flicker is crying: "Wet, 

 wet, wet." One writer on bird notes translates 

 this cry: "Quit, quit" but to my ear he very 

 distinctly says, "Wet." He is a bird of cheery 

 disposition, noisy and conspicuous of voice as he is 

 of colour in the winter woods. Sometimes, when 

 drumming on a hollow tree, he lifts his head and in 

 high, clear tones cries: "Kee — yer!" It is dif- 

 ficult to say whether his notes are sung or whistled. 

 There is something of the quality of both. The 

 bird seems to vocalize them. In an attempt to 

 reproduce them it would certainly be necessary 

 to whistle the tones at least partially. 



Among our Cabin musicians, the wailing quaver 

 of the screech owl is heard from half a dozen dif- 

 ferent directions at the same lime. The cry might 

 be likened to a sneeze imperfectly syllabified: 

 "T'cher-r-whicu — " the last syllable drawn out 



