IVAYSW£ J? AMBLES. 21 



then had eaten out the kernels when hunger drove 

 them to it. That would be in perfect keeping with 

 the habits of these thrifty little providers for the 

 morrow. 



During the winter of 1892-1893 a red-bellied 

 woodpecker, often called the zebra-bird, took up 

 his residence in my woodland. (I call it mine by 

 a sort of usufruct, because I ramble through its 

 pleasant archways or sit in its quiet boudoirs at all 

 hours and in all seasons.) With the exception of 

 several brief absences, for which I could not account, 

 the woodpecker remained until the following spring, 

 giving me some delightful surprises. It was the 

 first winter he had shown the good grace to keep 

 me company. Perhaps he was lazy ; or he may 

 have been a clumsy flier ; or perchance he got 

 separated from his fellows by accident, and so was 

 left behind in the autumn when the southward pil- 

 grimage began. 



He was, by all odds, the handsomest woodpecker 

 I had ever seen. His entire crown and hind-neck 

 were brilliant crimson, which fairly shimmered like 

 a flambeau when the sun peeped through a rift in 

 the clouds and shone upon it; and then his back 

 was beautifully mottled and striped with black and 

 white, while his tail was bordered with a broad band 

 of deep black. What a splendid picture he made, 

 too, whenever he spread his wings and bolted from 

 one tree to another ! I wish an artist could have 

 caught him on the wing, and transferred him to 

 canvas. He performed a trick that was new to 



