106 
A NATURALIST'S ANECDOTE. 
and most piteous note, exactly resembling the violent crying of a 
young child, and most distressing to hear. Wilson carried his prize 
under cover to Wilmington. As he passed through the streets the bird's 
doleful sounds surprised every person within hearing ; particularly the 
women, who hurried to doors and windows with anxious and sympa- 
thizing faces. On reaching the hotel where Wilson intended to put 
up, he was accosted by the landlord and other persons who happened 
to be present, all expressing their alarm, — which was much increased 
when the naturalist demanded accommodation for himself and his 
baby. The landlord looked foolish ; the bystanders stared, astonished. 
After enjoying their discomfiture for a few moments, he removed the 
cover, and revealed his feathered captive. " I took him upstairs," says 
Wilson, " and locked him up in my room, while I went to see my 
horse taken care of. In less than an hour I returned, and on my open- 
ing the door he set up the same distressing shout, which now appeared 
to proceed from grief that he had been discovered in his attempts at 
escape. He had mounted along the side of the window, nearly as high 
as the ceiling, a little below which he had begun to break through. 
The bed was covered with large pieces of plaster; the lath was exposed 
for at least fifteen inches square, and a hole large enough to admit the 
fist opened to the weathei'-boards ; so that in less than another hour 
he would certainly have succeeded in making his way through. I 
now tied a string round his leg, and fastening it to the table, again 
left him. I wished to preserve his life, and had gone off in search of 
suitable food for him. As I reascended the stairs I heard him again 
hard at work, and on entering had the mortification to perceive that 
he had almost entirely ruined the mahogany table to which he was 
fastened, and on which he had wreaked his whole vengeance. While 
engaged in taking a drawing, he cut me severely in several places; 
and, on the whole, displayed such a noble and unconquerable spirit, 
that I was frequently tempted to restore him to his native woods." 
It is in the construction of his nest or home that the woodpecker 
displays his artistic powers. With his ingenious bill he shapes a 
cavity in the trunk of the selected tree that is truly remarkable for 
its finish. In his labours he is at times relieved by his mate, and 
