BIRDS'-NESTS 



an upper limb, utters a loud call or two, when its 

 mate soon appears, and, alighting near it on the 

 branch, the pair chatter and caress a moment, then 

 the fresh one enters the cavity and the other flies 

 away. 



A few days since I climbed up to the nest of the 

 downy woodpecker, hi the decayed top of a sugar 

 maple. For better protection against driving rains, 

 the hole, which was rather more than an inch in 

 diameter, was made immediately beneath a branch 

 which stretched out almost horizontally from the 

 main stem. It appeared merely a deeper shadow 

 upon the dark and mottled surface of the bark with 

 which the branches were covered, and could not be 

 detected by the eye until one was within a few feet 

 of it. The young chirped vociferously as I ap- 

 proached the nest, thinking it was the old one with 

 food; but the clamor suddenly ceased as I put 

 my hand on that part of the trunk in which they 

 were concealed, the unusual jarring and rustling 

 alarming them into silence. The cavity, which was 

 about fifteen inches deep, was gourd-shaped, and 

 was wrought out with great skill and regularity. The 

 walls were quite smooth and clean and new. 



I shall never forget the circumstance of observing 

 a pair of yellow-bellied woodpeckers the most 

 rare and secluded, and, next to the red-headed, the 

 most beautiful species found in our woods breed- 

 ing in an old, truncated beech in the Beaverkill 

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