Hints to Audubon Workers. 



37 



branch with it. He had found what he 

 was after. And what a relish it was ! I 

 could almost see him holding it on his 

 tongue. 



Another day in November he had to work 

 harder for his breakfast, and perhaps it was 

 fortunate. The night before there had been 

 a sharp snowstorm from the north, so that 

 in passing through the woods all the trees 

 and undergrowth on the south of me were 

 pure white, while on the other side the gray 

 trees with all their confusion of branches, 

 twigs and noble trunks stood out in bold 

 relief. The snow that had fallen made it 

 rather cold standing still, and I would have 

 been glad to do part of Mr. Hairy's work 

 myself. But he needed no help. He march- 

 ed up the side of the stub, tapping as he 

 went, and when his bill gave back the sound 

 for which he had been listening, he began 

 work without ado. The bark must have 

 been harder or thicker than the other, for 

 instead of boring straight through, he loos- 

 ened it by drilling first from one side and 

 then the other. When he could not get it 

 off in this way, he went above, and then 

 below, to try to start it, so that, before he 

 got what he wanted, he had stripped off 

 pieces several inches long and fully two 

 across. He was so much engrossed that I 

 came to the very foot of the stub without 

 disturbing him. 



Last summer, in going through the edge 

 of the woods, I was attracted by the cries of 

 a woodpecker, and creeping up discovered 

 a mother feeding her half grown baby. She 

 flew off when she saw me, probably warning 

 the little fellow to keep still, for he stayed 

 where she left him for five or ten minutes 

 as if glued to the branch, crouching close, 

 and hardly daring to stir even his head. 

 Then, as she did not come back, and he saw 

 no reason to be afraid of me, he flew off in- 

 dependently to another limb, and marched 

 up the side arching his neck and bowing 

 his head as much as to say, "Just look at 

 me now!" 



DOWNY WOODPECKER. 



The downy looks so much like the hairy 

 that it would be easy to confound them if 

 it were not for the difference in size. The 

 downy is fully two inches shorter than the 

 hairy. As you see him on a tree at a dis- 

 tance, the white stripe of his back is 

 bounded by black, or as Thoreau expresses 

 it, "his cassock is open behind, showing 

 his white robe." Above this is a large 

 check of black and white, and on a line 

 with the ends of his wings, a fine black 

 and white check, while, if he is an adult 

 male, a scarlet patch on the back of his 

 head sets off his black and white dress. 

 Seen only a rod away as I see him from 

 the window, clinging to the side of the 

 tree pecking at the suet hung there for 

 him, the white stripe of his back is 

 marked off above by a black line which 

 goes across to meet the black of his should- 

 ers. From the middle of this another black 

 line goes at right angles, straight up to- 

 ward his head, so carrying on the line of 

 the white stripe, and forming the dividing 

 line of the two white blocks. This perpen- 

 dicular line meets the point of a black V 

 so broad as to be almost a straight line. On 

 this V lies the red patch of the back of his 

 head. Over his eye a white line runs back 

 to meet the red patch. What, at a distance, 

 looked like fine ducking at the base of his 

 wings, proves to be wavy white lines run- 

 ning across the black. 



The downy comes about us here with the 

 same familiarity as the hairy, and it was 

 only a few weeks ago that the cook brought 

 me one that had gotten caught between the 

 sashes of her window. He was scared, 

 poor little fellow, and wriggled about try- 

 ing to force my hands open, so when I had 

 taken a look at his pretty brown eyes, I 

 carried him to the front door and off he 

 flew to the nearest tree, where he began 

 pecking away at the bark as calmly as if 

 nothing had happened! 



