132 BIRDS 



as usual, the ants rush to the surface. All Mr. Flicker 

 has to do then is to lick them up with his long, sticky 

 tongue. While on the ground their bodies lie very flat 

 and they have the habit of frequently raising their heads 

 to assure themselves that no danger is near, and then 

 slowly resume their food-seeking labors. 



Progress, on the ground, is made by a series of 

 jumps; in the air, by a wave-like bounding. It is an 

 amusing and interesting sight to witness a social gather- 

 ing of several of these birds on a big oak limb. Of all 

 the polite bowing, scraping of feet and sidestepping you 

 ever saw this is the greatest. While these gyrations are 

 going on the most voluble gossip is under way, first one, 

 then another taking turns, as if indulging in backyard 

 scandal. 



The Flicker is a bold, fearless bird when nesting 

 and will return to the nest while you are within a few 

 feet of its location. The picture here shown was made 

 as the bird passed over a fish line running from below the 

 nest entrance to the shutter release. (Fig. 64.) 



Like other members of their family. Flickers love 

 to peck away on a tin roof or chimney. They are the 

 drummer boys of the bird regiments in every woodland 

 and pasture. 



