120 



STORIES OF BIRD LIFE- 



impossible that the bird should be able to enter. Once I 

 found a nest in a tall stump, the entrance to which had been 

 made by a flicker. 



Although the uncleared forest is their chosen nesting 

 haunt; they will sometimes build close to the homes of man. 



Among the wooded 

 sand hills of Cape 

 'Hatteras, standing in 

 a dooryard there is a 

 living holly tree, in 

 the cavity of which 

 some wood ducks 

 have made their 

 home each spring for 

 several years. The 

 opening to the cavity is ten feet 

 from the ground, and the hollow 

 is eight inches in depth. Here 

 the duck sits and hatches her eggs, 

 while carts pass along the sandy 

 road within thirty feet, and, on the 

 ground beneath, the hens cackle and children play. 

 Determining once to take a peep into this nest I ap- 

 proached the tree and struck it sharply several times with 

 a heavy stick to see if the female was at home. But no 



