A Brood Under the Mistletoe Bough. 43 



A BROOD UNDER THE MISTLETOE BOUGH. 



In a note published some time ago, I spoke of having 

 discovered the nest of a Green Woodpecker by seeing a 

 litter of chips at the bottom of an apple-tree in my 

 orchard. The cavity in the trunk containing the nest 

 was about seven feet above the ground, and, oddly enough, 

 a fine bunch of mistletoe grew out above, partially over- 

 shadowing its orifice. Standing on tiptoe, and inserting 

 my hand into the hole, there came up out of it a chorus 

 of noises a jarring and hissing as of goslings, seemingly 

 in anger, and loud enough to be heard full fifty yards off. 

 I say up out of it, for the hollow passage, on reaching the 

 heart of the tree, turned downward a foot or so, as I 

 could tell by the direction of the sounds. And that these 

 proceeded from a brood of young birds was equally evi- 

 dent, one of the parents seen near by flitting about among 

 the pear and apple-trees, excited and solicitous. 



As the rounded hole was not of sufficient size to admit 

 my hand, I gave up hope of getting a look at the young 

 birds, and turned to note the behaviour of the old one 

 no doubt the mother. She still kept in proximity to the 

 place, pitching from tree to tree, while every now and 

 then giving utterance to her strange call -note, though in 

 tone more subdued than is usual. And her solicitude 

 seemed less, or at least did not show itself in the fren- 

 zied, distracted way observable among magpies and some 

 other birds, under similar circumstances. Nor did she 

 at any time come very near. All of which I thought 

 strange, knowing the Green Woodpecker to be anything 

 but a shy bird much less so than either jay or magpie. 



Having satisfied myself with watching her movements, 

 I left the place, intending to revisit it on the following 



