64 OUR WINTER BIRDS 



of the attributes which the chosen bird of the nation 

 should have. He is a native of every state, he is 

 adaptive and intelligent; peaceful but brave; use- 

 ful and beautiful, but he cannot sing; and song is so 

 preeminently the divine gift of birds, that a bird 

 which lacks it does not seem to be quite perfect. 



Flicker, it is true, has a greater repertoire than 

 most members of his family. He is an accomplished 

 drummer and sometimes beats his tattoo on a tin roof 

 or gutter with more enthusiasm than consideration 

 for the ears of would-be sleepers in adjoining bed- 

 rooms. 



He announces his presence with a loud, strongly 

 accented "Kee-yer" and his many times repeated 

 "cuh-cuh-cuh" is as much a part of spring as the 

 piping of frogs. The "kwee-chu, kwee-chu" with 

 which he accompanies his odd courtship poses, and 

 the chuckle he utters when he springs up before us 

 cannot well be called songs, but at least they are one 

 of the most characteristic of Nature's voices, with 

 which, in time, we establish associations that make 

 them inexpressibly dear to us. 



Flicker and his mate go house-hunting early in 

 April, but the eggs are not laid for a month later. 

 They number five to nine, and like those of all .Wood- 

 peckers, are spotless white. The young Flickers are 

 born naked and do not get their first suit of feathers, 



