THE OOLOGIST 



39 



Mj Introduction to the Canada Jay and Three- 

 toed Woodpjcker. 



We have all met with disappoint- 

 iments, haven't we? I know I have, but 

 one of the worst is contained in the fol- 

 lowing: Some of my readers will rec- 

 ognize as "just their case exactly." 



It was a light day in fall, about thirty- 

 six miles back from Georgian Bay. I 

 was slowly wandering along ostensibly 

 for Ruffed Grouse, but keeping my eye 

 open for other of our bird friends. It 

 was along an old lumber road, such is 

 a,re common in a new district just left 

 by the lumbermen and still showing 

 the fierce ravages of the axe and fire. 

 To the right and left of me was a wall 

 of second growth birch and poplar well 

 guarded by chevaux de Juse of dead 

 tree-tops and breast- works of fallen 

 logs. I had tried to fox*ce these de- 

 fenses and, wearily came to the conclu- 

 sion that there was no game along the 

 road. 



As I paused a moment to watch some 

 Slate-colored Juncoes 1 heard, away 

 over somewhere, a maniacal laugh, 

 perfectly fiendish in its tone and 

 •enough to make one's blood run cold. 



What's that? I mentally asked, and 

 the dog looked up and then turning to 

 me seemed to say, "Shall we go and 

 .see ? " 



Not much through that jungle. 



Much puzzled I went along my way 

 until I x'eached higher ground and came 

 to a "slashing," where hemlock had 

 been cut for tan-bark and thin, white, 

 bleached trunks lay about piled over 

 •each other like huge jack-straws. 



Sitting down and watching some 

 Kinglets playing in a small cedar clump 

 I was attracted by an unknown guttural 

 note uttered near me. My heart flew 

 to my throat ; there, on a log, and. 

 quietly tapping as if nothing unusual 

 had happened was the bird I had been 

 looking for for three years — the Ameri- 

 can Three-toed Woodpecker. How 



often had I heard that familiar rat-a- 

 tat and quietly stealing up in hopes of 

 finding him saw a Hairy or Downy bird, 

 here he actually was right under my 

 hand, or gun, rather. All this and 

 much more flashed through my mind 

 while I was raising my gun. When 

 horror of horrors, he flew — but towards 

 me and lit on the other end of the log I 

 was on. I slowly rose and, keeping an 

 eye on him backed off to insure there 

 being enough of him left to mount after 

 I shot. Dear reader, you know how it 

 is, every log for miles around came and 

 lay in my way. The dog got under my 

 heels, but I remembered the fifth com- 

 mandment and didn't say a word. Mr. 

 Woodpecker seeing how things stood, 

 flew on a tree at just a good range, but 

 on the opposite side. Then I changed 

 my tactics and began a retrograde 

 movement to get in the rear of my ene- 

 my; keeping my eye on him every sec- 

 ond except once while getting over a 

 log. But that once was enough, I did 

 not see him go, but he went, — and I — 

 well, I won't say what I said. The dog 

 crawled under some logs and all the 

 rest of the day acted ashamed for me. 



I will pass over what happened for a 

 while after that in deference to my 

 readers, who, I think will sympathize 

 with me if they are collectors. 



An hour or so after as I came into 

 some better cleared land I heard that 

 awful laugh again proceeding from an 

 isolated clump of bushes and I crept 

 forward. The fiend flew — coming right 

 over my head and I fired. He stopped 

 suddenly and dropped in rather a dis- 

 jointed way. When I picked him up I 

 saw who he was. He was slate-bme 

 under and lighter beneath with a sug- 

 gestion of rufous, he \. ore a nice little 

 black cap, and his whole plumage had 

 a peculiar looseness and fluffiness — in 

 fine he wa? a Canada Jay. 



Proceeding I came to a little lake lost 

 in the woods. Peering cautiously for- 

 ward I saw three ducks dabbling about 

 and every now and then diving, show- 



