THE IVORY-BILLED WOODPECKER. 



Tap! Yap! Yap! 



As I am called the prince of 

 Woodpeckers, I can, I suppose, 

 shout just as loud as I like. Of 

 course my cousin, the Red- 

 bellied Woodpecker, will turn up 

 his bill and say they only call 

 me the prince because I am the 

 largest of all the North Ameri- 

 can Woodpeckers. Well, I 

 think that is reason enough, 

 don't you? Some creatures who 

 are not birds, have been called 

 princes and kings for less than 

 that so I have heard. 



Mr. Red-belly had a great deal 

 to say about, and for himself, in 

 BIRDS last month ; he sent his 

 picture, too. Pooh ! he can't 

 compare with me. I am said to 

 be the most magnificent Wood- 

 pecker of the whole lot. My 

 species is select, too, no matter 

 if he does say the whole family 

 of Woodpeckers are common. We 

 are considered rare birds. You 

 don't find us in all localities, no 

 indeed ! You will have to travel 

 to the far, far south to catch a 

 glimpse of one of us magnificent 

 fellows. "Should you ever go way 

 down on the Suwanee river, and 

 walk "real easy" through the 

 cypress forests you might get a 

 peep at one of us. But we are 



wild and shy, and like to travel 

 long distances through the 

 day; no stay-at-home bodies 

 among us. 



I'm not one of the three-toed 

 Woodpeckers, either, that Mr. 

 Red-belly was so anxious to tell 

 you about. It's very strange 

 how eager some people are to 

 talk about other people's imper- 

 fections. I have four toes, two 

 in front and two behind, so it 

 isn't "sour grapes" that leads me 

 to speak as I do. I'll admit my 

 feet are peculiar, my toes assist- 

 ing me in clinging to an upright 

 surface, and my pointed stiff 

 tail-feathers serving to prop me 

 up when resting. 



I think I am very fortunate, 

 too, in having such a stout, 

 chisel-like bill, and such a 

 horny, spear-like tongue. With 

 the first I cut away wood and 

 explore the hiding place of 

 grubs; with the latter I impale 

 them and draw the food out. 

 Dear, dear! How fearfully and 

 wonderfully we are made, to be 

 sure birds as well as men. 



Sing! No, wish I could. But 

 then I have a love-song which 

 my mate thinks is fine; 'tis a 

 long, rolling call, which I beat 

 with my bill. 



