56 THE ADVENTURES OF A NATURE GUIDE 



swept bare of snow. Happy highlanders they 

 were, well fed and contented, in their home twelve 

 thousand feet above the tides. 



One sunny, though cold, morning I came upon a 

 large dead tree. In it were a number of woodpecker 

 holes. Wonderingifthese houses had winter dwellers 

 I struck the tree with my hatchet. Instantly a 

 dozen or more chickadees came pouring out of one 

 of the holes like so many merry children. From 

 a hole in the opposite side of the tree flew one or 

 more birds that I did not see. Out of one of the 

 upper holes a downy woodpecker thrust his head. 

 Glaring down at me with one eye — impatient, 

 as late sleepers usually are when called — he ap- 

 peared to be wanting to say: "Why am I disturbed .? 

 This is a cold morning. There are no early worms 

 to be had in winter." From another hole flew 

 another downy. I felt sure that none of these 

 late sleepers had breakfasted. Seldom is an old 

 woodpecker house without a tenant. Bluebirds, 

 wrens, and numbers of weak-billed folk nest in 

 them during summer, while birds of other species 

 find them life-savers in the winter. A humming- 

 bird's nest that I found brought to mind the fact 

 that its builder, if alive, was then among the tropi- 

 cal flowers of Central America. 



Later in the day I saw a flock of chickadees, one 

 or two brown creepers, and a solitary woodpecker 

 food hunting together. The chickadees kept up a 

 cheering conversation and twice I thought I heard 



