KNIGHTS OF THE CHISEL 



hatched, were clamoring for food, making that horrible 

 buzzing noise which sounds like a nest of snakes. 

 Naked and scrawny, they looked as hideous as they 

 sounded. But I secured one instantaneous exposure 

 on the bird in dull light, which, though very thin, 

 printed quite well on contrasty developing paper, and 

 was the best which I secured. 



I waited a few days more till I thought the youngsters 

 would have some feathers, and went to photograph 

 them. No buzzing greeted me, and I was shocked. 

 Putting my hand into the hole, I drew out the putrid 

 body of one of the young, without feathers. Appar- 

 ently the others, unable to endure this horrible condi- 

 tion, had climbed out before their full time, or else they 

 had grown faster than I had supposed possible. But 

 what should I do for photographs of young woodpeckers 

 for my series? It was now so late in the season that I 

 feared that all young Flickers had left their nests. As 

 soon as I could, I made the round of most of the nests 

 I had previously seen. In every case I was too late. 

 Then I heard of a nest on someone's front lawn, in a 

 maple tree, where very recently the young were looking 

 out and being fed by their parents. That very evening 

 I drove to the place, and to my joy found that the young 

 were there and in just the right condition to photograph. 



The next morning, July fifth, I was early at work. 

 The hole was twenty feet up the elm, an enlarged knot 

 hole. The young drew back when I tried to get hold 

 of them. The hole was too small for my hand, and 



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