158 



THE OOLOGIST. 



worked in about the same way, though 

 some of them wedged their nuts far 

 into cracks or holes in the body of the 

 tree, instead of in the bark. One of 

 them pounded so hard he spread his 

 tail and almost upset himself. The fun 

 M"as so great a Downy Woodpecker 

 tried it, and of all the big school boys! 

 The excitement seemed to turn his 

 head, and he attacked a beechnut bun- 

 as if he would close with it in mortal 

 combat! 



Though without any I'eal song, the 

 Nuthatch has a delightful variety of 

 notes. In May his nasal henk-a, henk- 

 a, henk-a, comes through the soft green 

 woods as a peculiarl^^ peaceful caress- 

 ing note, and his soft yang, yang, yang, 

 is full of woodsy suggestions. In the 

 last of June I noted the sweet yah-ha of 

 the Nuthatch, the same yang, yang, 

 yang, and his nearest approach to a 

 song, the rapid yah-ha, ha-ha-ha-ha. In 

 August and September the nasal yank 

 is sometimes run into an accelerated 

 half song. Thoreau gives the ordinary 

 winter note as quah, quah, and while 

 that expresses the mellowness of the 

 note on some days better than yank, 

 they are both descriptive. But though 

 certain notes may predominate in given 

 months, on a cold January morning I 

 have heard from a flock of Nuthatches 

 every note that I had[ever heard before 

 at any time of the year. 



Like the other members of the quar- 

 tette, the Nuthatch nests in holes in 

 trees or stumps, while its 'lightly spot- 

 ted eggs, six or eight in number, are 

 laid on a soft, felty lining. 



T am often surprised by discovering 

 the Nuthatch at work in places where I 

 despair of finding any birds. One day 

 in December the snow-oovered Avoods 

 seemed to have fallen into the silent 

 slumber of a child. Not a breath came 

 to blow the white cap from the Vireo's 

 nest, or scatter the heaped-up sno.w 

 that rested like foam on the slender 

 twigs. The snow that had drifted 



against the side of the tree trunks; 

 clung as it had fallen. In silence th© 

 branches arched under their freight; 

 the rich ochraceous beech leaves hung 

 in masses under the snow — not a leaf' 

 rustled. 



Overhead the twigs, snow-outlined, 

 made exquisite liligree against the pale 

 blue sky. But suddenly, as the woods 

 seemed to be holding its breath, the 

 yank of the Nuthatch came first from 

 one tree and then another. A family 

 of them were looking for their dinner- 

 in the white forest. If the snow 

 coA'ered the upper side of a branchy 

 they ran along upside-down on the 

 under side; if the south side of a tree 

 trunk was white, they walked, head 

 down, on the north side; and there, too, 

 was the little drummer — a Downy 

 Woodpecker, flickering from tree to 

 tree^even here, the merry band was 

 finding a place for itself in nature. As 

 I passed on, fainter and fainter came 

 the note of the Nuthatch. I looked 

 back through the woods; the blue sky 

 was veiled by snow clouds, but behind 

 them shone the southern sun, pervad- 

 ing them with that wondrous radiance 

 of white light that only a winter sky 

 can show. 



Two Instances of Strange Co-habitation— 

 Wood Thrush and White-eyed Vireo. 



W^hile on a collecting trip a short 

 time ago, a little incident came under 

 my notice which I thought might possi- 

 bly be of enough interest to the readers 

 of The Oologist to publish. 



On June 21st, I found a nest of the 

 Wood Thrush, noticing, in the nest, a 

 very large ^^'g for this species. (Size 

 l.lOx.81.) I took it, leaving two in 

 the nest. I thought no more about it 

 until three days after Avhen, as I was 

 going by the place, happening to re- 

 member the nest, 1 went to look at it. 

 What was my surprise on nearing the 

 bush, to see a strange small head peep. 



