72 oo 
NATURAL HISTORY. 
When abird or a wild animal is killed, that is the end of it. 
If photographed, it may still live and 
its educational and scientific value is multiplied indefinitely. 
SIX WOODPECKERS. 
FRANCES ANTHONY. A 
I have a tender spot in my heart for a 
flock of woodpeckers that live in our trees. 
Six of the 8, if not all, were born in a soft 
maple tree in our yard. 
This morning, just before getting up 
time, there was a series of rap-rap-rappity- 
Taps in the gable over my front window. 
All the opening and shutting of windows 
in my efforts to see which or how many of 
them were there seemed not to disturb 
the birds in the least; they kept it up just | 
the same, and judging by the number that 
_were flying around they may have taken 
“turns at it. Even above the noisy, chat- 
tering of blackbirds holding a mass meet- 
“ing in the evergreen thicket, it could be 
plainly heard. The difference between the 
2 musical exercises was noticeable. While 
that of the blackbirds was noisy and con- 
fused, this of the woodpeckers seemed dig- 
‘nified, purposeful and orderly; and, as I 
listened longer, it grew to seem like a Sun- 
, et morning salute to the rising sun. 
In the growing up of these woodpeckers 
¥ have been much interested. It was by 
accident I found their home, though I had 
moticed in early spring a pair of wood- 
peckers hanging around that tree. There 
seemed to be considerable discussion and 
matters did not go to suit. After a while 
I forgot them; other trees hid the maple 
‘from view and I was busy about other 
things. One day in May the cat brought 
a young owl from the corner of the yard. 
Following the clue, I found a living owl 
under the fence and a dead one under the 
“maple. In another tree sat the frightened 
mother owl, her horns standing straight up 
and her bright yellow eyes blinking as she 
ied to understand what we were doing. 
After some searching we found the hole in 
he maple and in it still another owl. The 
or little things felt and looked forlorn 
genough, being nearly naked, and they put on 
their stupidest air. We put them back in 
ithe hole that to them was nest and home; 
and several days passed before I solved 
the mystery of their having been out of the 
est before they were large enough to take 
care of themselves. I could not believe a 
os had pulled them out, so, putting a lad- 
der up to. the tree, I kept watch. 
A few days later I found 2 headless field 
“mice, a kangaroo mouse in like condition, 
and a dead titmouse under the tree where 
he owl’s nest was. One day I saw the 
‘pair of woodpeckers making a great fuss in 


pe Ep pe 
61 
the tree, looking into the hole and flying 
about. Then | knew the whole story; they 
had intended to use that hole themselves, 
as they had probably done in other years, 
but Mrs. Owl got in first and kept posses- 
sion, either by force or simply by being 
present when other would-be occupants 
came prospecting. So there she brought 
her family up till they reached an age of 
pin feathers and plumpness suitable to the 
taste of cats. Food would not come to 
them; it must be sought, and the older they 
grew the more they took. In a luckless 
hour the mother went to seek it. 
Mrs. Woodpecker and perhaps Mr. 
Woodpecker, too, happened along just at 
the right time and made the most of one 
of those opportunities that are one bird’s 
gain at another’s expense. They dumped 
those precious little owls out on the ground. 
Then they were puzzled what to do next; 
they couldn’t use the nest, for Mrs. Owl 
would see to it that all their eggs were 
eaten. Well, if they must give up one 
thing they would try another, so out went 
all the food, all the choice little birds and 
mice that Mrs. Owl had left for the children 
to eat. It was these things lying under the 
tree that told the story. In spite of every- 
thing the owls grew. The woodpeckers 
showed impatience, and after a time grew 
so bold as to go right in when the mother 
was gone and cut and chisel the nest out 
to suit themselves. Several times I slipped 
quietly up the ladder and, as soon as I 
could reach, put my hand over the hole, 
held it there while I climbed the rest of 
the way, and then finding Mrs. Wood- 
pecker crouching flat above the owls, took 
her out in my hand and let her fly away. 
The young owls proved a pair; one being 
broad built and round of face, the other 
slimmer in body and face and having a 
pair of horns like the mother. After a 
while the little brown beauties flew away, 
and the next day a new home was begun 
in the hole in the maple tree. A creamy 
white woodpecker’s egg was laid there, the 
next day another, and so on till there were 
6. Then after a while there were 5 naked 
squirming little woodpeckers and one egg; 
the next day the egg had disappeared and 
there were 6 ugly looking specimens that 
reminded me of nothing so much as diminu- 
tive plucked geese. Finally the birds 
flew away, claimed their title to the free- 
dom of their kind, and came back only to 
the tree tops and their drumming spot on 
the house. The puzzle to me is that now 
