1S92.] BoLLES, young- Safsuckfii's in Cafitivify. I T '^ 



these things, but seemed to prefer the sides of their cage, espec- 

 ially portions walled with clapboards, which yielded a great 

 volume of sound to their blows. I spent many hours in noting 

 down the number and order of their taps, in order to see whether 

 they constituted distinct signals. At first it seemed to me that 

 Number One liked to tap in twos and fours, that Number Three 

 was more apt to make threes, or threes and fives, than other com- 

 binations, and that Number Two mingled fives and twos. The 

 longer I listened the more combinations I found them making, 

 and at last I decided that with these birds it was mere chance 



whether they said , or ,or They seemed to 



pay no attention to each other's performances, and to mean noth- 

 ing by their own tappings. If they tapped at all, it was necessary 

 to make some number of taps and to space those taps in some 

 particular way. If in a large number of such series, ones, twos, 

 threes, fours and fives came equally freely and frequently — as 

 they seemed to — there appeared to be no ground for imagining 

 that the different combinations indicated different feelings or im- 

 pulses. Nevertheless I think the old birds at Orchard No. i 

 during July, 1S90, called each other by tapping, and I do not 

 feel at all sure that closer study than mine might not work out a 

 Sapsucker code. 



On August 9 I noted that the birds were "as noisy as a boiler 

 factory," and that One and Three were showing reddish coloring 

 on their heads. Three I speak of as "gentle and refined," but 

 One is constantly alluded to as rough, noisy, and restless. I 

 tested their color sense by placing some flaming nasturtiums in 

 the front of their cage. They did not even look at them, but 

 trampled back and forth over them until the flowers fell. 



On August 13, a very warm day, I saw one of the Sapsuckers 

 bathing at 7.30 p. m. when it was nearly dark in the cage. On 

 the 14th — a rainy day — one of them bathed about 6 p.m. 

 When the sun fell upon their cage in an afternoon the birds often 

 sought the sunlight, and standing in it drooped their wings and 

 opened their mouths as though suffering. They could readily 

 have avoided its heat. 



On August 17 I was away all day, and the Sapsucker's syrup 

 dish became dry. Early on the iSth the birds began pounding 

 so furiously that, as my notes say, "they could be heard a quar- 

 ter of a mile away." When I filled their dish they crowded 



