HAIRY WOODPECKER. 97 
to store a book; and the mechanic! Just watch 
the dexterous bird as he works ! 
A master of his trade, he has various methods. 
One day in September he flew past me with a 
loud scream, and when I came up to him was 
hard at excavating. His claws were fast in the 
bark on the edge of the hole, and he seemed to be 
half clinging to it, half lying against it. His stiff 
tail quills helped to brace him against the tree, 
and he drilled straight down, making the bark fly 
with his rapid strokes. When the hole did not 
clear itself with his blows, he would give a quick 
scrape with his bill and drill away again. Sud- 
denly he stopped, picked up something, and flew 
up on a branch with it. He had found what he 
was after. And what a relish it proved! 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 for- 
tunate. 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 
opposite side the gray trees with all their confu- 
sion 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 marched up the side of 
the stub, tapping as he went, and when his bill 
