208 



AMERICAN ORNITHOLOGY. 



in Alaska. A few weeks later while I was passing through a cluster of 

 tall poplars, along the bank of the Knik River, a pair of golden-lined 

 wings launched into the air, and in graceful billowy motion crossed an 

 opening and alighted on a tree trunk. A Flicker, Highold, or more 

 properly speaking, a Golden-winged Woodpecker, thought I; the same 

 feathered carpenter of eastern woodland and orchard, that hews his 

 home in a dead tree trunk, and brings forth his brood of young from 

 the six or eight cream colored eggs deposited upon a bed of fine chips. 

 The yellow on the underside ot his wings and tail disappeared, as, in 

 spasmodic hops he climbed up the tree, and I distinctly saw the bright 

 red crescent on the back of his head. At the junction of two large 

 limbs he dropped his wings, spread his tail, and bowing repeatedly 

 from side to side, began to twitter in a low plaintiff voice, sounding 

 like the words "won't you, won't you, won't you, won't you." 

 "Bye-en-bye him catch 'um wife," said my Indian guide. 



A FLICKER SOUGHT. HIS MATE AMONG THE TREES. 



(ICnik River nnd Mountains.) 



Yes, that was so, for just then his intended appeared from behind a 

 branch, and in spiral curves climbed slowly toward the top; he follow- 

 ed, displaying his finery and repeating the tender words. Evidently 

 she did not take his wooing seriously, for when the top was reached 

 she took flight and the two disappeared through the trees. 



