THE PILE ATE 1) WOODPECKER. 
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Wherever it occurs it is a permanent resident, and, like its relative the 
Ivory-billed Woodpecker, it remains pretty constantly in the place which it 
has chosen after leaving its parents. It is at all times a shy bird, so that one 
can seldom approach it, unless under cover of a tree, or when he happens 
accidentally to surprise it while engaged in its daily avocations. When seen 
in a large field newly brought into tillage, and yet covered with girdled 
trees, it removes from one to another, cackling out its laughter-like no.tes, as 
if it found delight in leading you a wild-goose chase in pursuit of it. When 
followed it always alights on the tallest branches or trunks of trees, removes 
to the side farthest off, from which it every moment peeps, as it watches 
your progress in silence ; and so well does it seem to know the distance at 
which a shot can reach it, that it seldom permits so near an approach. Often 
when you think the next step will take you near enough to fire with 
certainty, the wary bird flies off before you can reach it. Even in the 
wildest parts of Eastern Florida, where I have at times followed it, to assure 
myself that the birds I saw were of the same species as that found in our 
distant Atlantic States, its vigilance was not in the least abated. For miles 
have I chased it from one cabbage-tree to another, without ever getting 
within shooting distance, until at last I was forced to resort to stratagem, and 
seeming to abandon the chase, took a circuitous route, concealed myself in 
its course, and waited until it came up, when, it being now on the side of 
the trees next to me, I had no difficulty in bringing it down. I shall never 
forget, that, while in the Great Pine Forest of Pennsylvania, I spent several 
days in the woods endeavouring to procure one, for the same purpose of 
proving its identity with others elsewhere seen. 
Their natural wildness never leaves them, even although they may have 
been reared from the nest. I will give you an instance of this, as related to 
me by my generous friend the Reverend John Bachman of Charleston, who 
also speaks of the cruelty of the species. “ A pair of Pileated Woodpeckers 
had a nest in an old elm tree, in a swamp, which they occupied that year ; 
the next spring early, two Blue-birds took possession of it, and there had 
young. Before these were half grown, the Woodpeckers retuimed to the 
place, and, despite of the cries and reiterated attacks of the Blue-birds, the 
others took the young, not very gently, as you may imagine, and carried 
them away to some distance. Next the nest itself was disposed of, the hole 
cleaned and enlarged, and there they raised a brood. The nest, it is true, 
was originally their own. The tree was large, but so situated, that, from the 
branches of another I could reach the nest. The hole was about 18 inches 
deep, and I could touch the bottom with my hand. The eggs, which were 
laid on fragments of chips, expressly left by the birds, were six, large, white, 
and translucent. Before the Woodpeckers began to sit, I robbed them of 
