384 SINGING BIRDS. 



parties, they cautiously glean a transient means of subsistence, 

 and wander from place to place as the supply diminishes. At 

 the welcome return, however, of the month of April, with the 

 revival and renewal of its insect fare the Nuthatch becomes 

 more domestic ; and retiring into the forest with its mate, it 

 prepares for its progeny in some hollow tree, or even in a rail 

 of the neighboring fence. The male is now assiduously atten- 

 tive to his sitting mate, supplying her regularly with food ; on 

 which occasion he affectionately calls her from the mouth of 

 her dark and voluntary prison, where sometimes, in mere 

 sociability, he attempts in his rude way to soothe her with his 

 complaisant chatter. He is too affectionate to ramble from 

 this favorite spot, where he not only accompanies his consort, 

 but, sentinel-like, watches and informs her of every threaten- 

 ing danger. When the pair are feeding on the trunk of the 

 same tree, or near to each other in the same wood, the faithful 

 male is heard perpetually calling upon his companion at short 

 intervals as he circumambulates the trunk. His approach is 

 announced usually at a distance by his nasal kank kajik, 

 frequently repeated, as in spiral circles round the trunk of 

 some tree he probes, searches, and shells off the bark in quest 

 of his lurking prey of spiders, ants, insects, and their larvae in 

 general. So tight and secure is his hold that he is known to 

 roost indifferently with his head up or down from the tree ; 

 and when wounded, while any spark of life remains, his con- 

 vulsive and instinctive grasp is still firmly and obstinately 

 maintained. Sometimes, with a sort of complaisant curiosity, 

 one of the birds, when there is a pair, will silently descend 

 nearly to the foot of the tree, where the spectator happens to 

 stand, stopping, head downwards, and stretching out his neck, 

 as it were, to reconnoitre your appearance and motives ; and 

 after an interval of silence, wheeling round, he again ascends 

 to his usual station, trumpeting his notes as before. He seldom 

 wholly quits the forest, but when bafified by the slippery sleet 

 which denies him a foothold, he is sometimes driven to the 

 necessity of approaching the barnyard and stables, or the 

 precincts of the dwelling, where, occasionally mixing among 



