112 STARLIGHT AND SUNSHINE. 



nest would appear to offer advantages of safety above those of 

 other birds, as in truth it does, being at least secure against the 

 hawks and owls and foxes. Yet it is by no means invulner- 

 able. The black snake has a well-known fancy for young wood- 

 peckers, and has often been surprised within the burrow, to the 

 horror of the small boy oologist, perhaps, who is thinking only of 

 the rare white eggs as he feels the depths of the hollow. The 

 birds are also an easy prey to the murderous red squirrel, one 

 of the archenemies of our nesting birds. Last year two of my 

 woodpecker fledglings fell his victims, and only a few weeks since 

 a whole family of flickers, which built in a large neighboring 

 maple, were wellnigh exterminated by the same brigand. Two 

 fully pinioned fledglings were found dead on the ground beneath 

 the hole, each with an ugly gash at the throat, and one of which 

 the squirrel was observed dragging by the head, while endeavor- 

 ing to ascend the trunk treating birds like pine-cones drop- 

 ping his cone first to enjoy it at his leisure. But one survivor 

 of the brood was seen later, and this doubtless followed the fate 

 of the others. The woodpeckers, in addition to serving their 

 own ends, are also pioneers for a number of smaller fry among 

 the birds, the deserted tunnels being in great demand for apart- 

 ments, and often a prize won only by supreme strategy or victory 

 among the bluebirds, nuthatches, creepers, wrens, and chickadees, 

 though the last has been known to excavate its own domicile. 

 Indeed, to the wren a hole of any kind possesses great attrac- 

 tions, " it will build in anything that has an accessible cavity, 

 from an old boot to a bomb-shell," says Burroughs. But whether 

 it be a palatial tin box, a post -hole, a tin oil -can, auger -hole, 

 pump-spout, pocket of an old coat, wheel -hub, or tomato-can, the 

 interior is always brought to the same level of luxury in its copi- 

 ous feather, bed. 



I remember once, in the days of my early ornithological fer- 

 vor, discovering a wren's nest in a shallow knot-hole of an old 

 apple-tree. The bird scolded and sputtered at the entrance like 

 a typical setting hen, and even suffered herself to be poked from 

 the hole ; and if there be those who think that birds cannot swear, 



