82 WINTER NEIGHBORS. 



sing that morning and the first screaming of the eii> 

 cling hawks, and about seven o'clock the first drui' 

 ming of my little friend. His first notes were uncer- 

 tain and at long intervals, but by and by he warmed 

 up and beat a lively tattoo. As the season advanced 

 foe ceased to lodge in his old quarters. I would rap 

 and find nobody at home. Was he out on a lark 9 1 

 said, the spring fever working in his blood ? After a 

 time his drumming grew less frequent, and finally, in 

 the middle of April, ceased entirely. Had some acci- 

 dent befallen him, or had he wandered away to fresh 

 fields, following some siren of his species ? Probably 

 the latter. Another bird that I had under observa- 

 tion also left his winter-quarters in the spring. This, 

 then, appears to be the usual custom. The wrens and 

 the nut-hatches and chickadees succeed to these abaL. 

 doned cavities, and often have amusing disputes over 

 them. The nut-hatches frequently pass the night in 

 them, and the wrens and chickadees nest in them. I 

 have further observed that in excavating a cavity for 

 a nest the downy woodpecker makes the entrance 

 smaller than when he is excavating his winter-quar- 

 ters. This is doubtless for the greater safety of the 

 young birds. 



The next fall, the downy excavated another limb in 

 the old apple-tree, but had not got his retreat quite 

 finished, when the large hairy woodpecker appeared 

 upon the scene. I heard his loud dick, click, early 

 one frosty November morning. There was something 

 impatient and angry in the tone that arrested my at- 

 tention. I saw the bird fly to the tree where downy 

 had been at work, and fall with great violence upon 

 the entrance to his cavity. The bark and the chips 

 flew beneath his vigorous blows, and before I fairly 



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