362 THE ZOOLOGIST. 
Great Black Woodpecker, with his little red cap of liberty. 
Various superstitions are connected with the Woodpecker, as, for 
instance, that he who carries its beak in his pocket will not be 
stung by the bees when depriving them of their honey. But 
these traditions are too critically opposed in our time ; naturalists 
have spied very closely into the life-history of Woodpeckers, and 
have discovered habits of much more interest and importance to 
the foresters. Dr. Altum has given us some very accurate 
information of these habits in his ‘ Forst-Zoologie.’ 
From a fir tree in front of us we suddenly hear a soft twitter ; 
a troop of quaint little Titmice (Meisen) have invaded it, and, 
ruffling their plain grey feathers, climb the dark branches looking 
for food. Their perpetual cry is translated by witty folks into 
“ flitig, flitig, flitig” (busy, busy, busy), and sounds to the lazy 
workman as a mocking incentive to labour. From branch to 
branch, in great zest and hurry, now on the top of the bough, 
now beneath it, never resting, they run round the tree, or hang 
on the under side of it, picking out the insect-egg and chrysalids 
which are hidden in the crevices of the bark. Such an occupa- 
tion, in spite of their insignificance, makes these active and useful 
little birds favourites with everyone; they cannot be too much 
encouraged and protected. 
And now we come upon a couple of lovers in this wintry 
place. Two Crossbills (Kreutzschnabel), in gay-coloured nuptial 
dress, unmindful of the cold, are having a playful game amongst 
those great fir-branches, at the root of which the little Wrens 
(Zaunkénig) are hopping and singing their bridal song, in 
spite of ice and snow. A Raven (Rabe), who still claims an 
important position among birds,—because his ancestors were the 
constant companions of Odin, and sat on the shoulders of the god 
as his chief counsellors and messengers,—looks down from above, 
scolding and croaking. The Crossbill displays a very peculiar 
form of bill, the point of the mandibles being crossed sideways. 
The pretended origin of this abnormal form of beak has been made 
the subject of a poem by the Magistrats-rath, Jacob Schnerr, who 
lived at Nuremberg in the beginning of the century, as well as by 
the great American poet Longfellow. In Pomerania it is believed 
that the Crossbill carries a blessing with it, and that a house in 
which one of these birds is kept will never be struck by lightning. 
Continuing our walk, we come to a clearing. At the entrance 
