54. WILD LIFE IN THE TREE TOPS 



There was little doubt about the parent woodpecker's anxiety to return to 

 them, for she flew from tree to tree constantly, uttering her alarm note ' Tchak ' ! 



Owing to bad weather, photography was impossible — especially in the 

 fir woods. — until three weeks had elapsed, and it was really by exceptionally 

 good luck, as it turned out, that the young woodpeckers had not, by that 

 time, already flown. That they had arrived at the age when they were on the 

 verge of leaving the nest was evident by their loud chipping cries, and the 

 continual appearance of first one and then another little head, which peered 

 inquiringly out from the hole. 



As is so often the case, an unconscionably long time was taken in fixing the 

 camera, and in persuading it to point in the required direction ; in fact, after 

 almost an hour of unsuccessful effort, I fear that I felt thoroughly weary and 

 exasperated. 



My annoyance was increased by a glance below, which revealed my com- 

 panions reclining easily amidst the cool shade of the ferns, lazily smoking 

 cigarettes, and laughing carelessly over their — it seemed to me — foolish remarks ! 



Assuming as pleasant a voice as I could under the circumstances, I shouted 

 down to them to ask if they had completed the hiding-place. At once their 

 three pink faces gazed up at me from amongst the bracken, while they com- 

 placently rephed that everything was ready long ago. Nevertheless, I noticed 

 that they imniediately commenced to be busily engaged — no doubt to smooth 

 over my ruffled feelings ! 



So there was nothing for it but to continue my endeavours, and at length 

 the camera was securely fixed ; the nest focused ; a string run from the 

 shutter, through a series of ' screw-eyes ' to the foot of the tree, and thence 

 to the hiding-place ; the shutter set ; the dark-slide withdrawn, and the whole 

 affair properly camouflaged. 



And then at last, after an easy slide — except for the risk of inadvertently 

 pulUng the string — down the now pohshed stem of the tree, to terra firma, I 

 entered the cool shadow of the hiding-place, where at least I could stretch my 

 cramped limbs and recover from my recent exertions. 



My companions having ' covered me in,' now prepared to depart, the arrange- 

 ment being that they should not return until either I let them know that I 

 had made some exposures, or the light began to fail. And when their voices, 

 and the sound of snapping twigs as they waded through the undergrowth, had 

 faded into the distance, I glanced through one of the many peep-holes to see 

 if either of the woodpeckers were anywhere in sight. For a time I neither 

 saw nor heard anjrthing — but was presently informed of the fact that one of 

 them was close at hand, by a loud ' chak,' which sounded from the tree imme- 

 diately above my head. 



But although the bird must have been within a few yards of me I could 

 not see her, and in fact, was so anxious that she should not suspect my presence 



