40 THE AUDUBON BULLETIN 
It was in the early part of December that my enthusiasm was re- 
kindled, for. a Red-breasted Nuthatch made his. surprising appearance. 
When I first saw him, he was hanging, head downward, pecking at the 
suet. Finally securing a large chunk, he flew to another tree, stuck the suet 
in a crevice, and proceeded to finish his meal. 
“Red,” as we nicknamed him, became a very regular customer. “There 
was one seemingly peculiar habit that he invariably followed when coming 
to the suet feeder—he would always alight high up in the tree and proceed 
head downward until he reached the suet. “Red” was very accommodating 
and not nearly so reticent as some of my other visitors. Accordingly I got 
some fine pictures of the bird. I had read that suet was the only artificial 
food of the Red-breasted Nuthatch, so I was agreeably surprised to see him 
one day fly to the shelf and pick out a sunflower seed. ‘This he took to a 
nearby tree, and, putting it into the tark, hammered away the outer shell 
and devoured the kernel within. After this “Red” often took a few seeds 
along with his suet. He remained a partaker of our hospitality until along 
in March, when he left us as suddenly as he had come. 
The White-breasted Nuthatches were the most aggressive customers. 
Spreading their wings and tails, and with a scolding ““Yank-Yank,” they 
warned the Chickadees to stay away from the sunflower seeds. A Nuthatch 
would take one seed, which he would place in a crevice and hammer it open, 
while a Titmouse or Chickadee would fly to a limb and break the seed 
open by holding it between his feet. 
The Nuthatches were amusing craners, that is to say, they would 
sometimes light on a tree-trunk, and with their bodies on one side, they 
would stretch their necks clear around tc the opposite side to see if the 
coast were clear. [hey were provident little creatures, for after eating their 
fill, they would carry off a number of seeds and hide them in all sorts of 
places. 
‘The Chickadees were the most joyful and confiding of all our patrons; 
no matter how cold or dreary the day, they were sure to greet one with a 
merry ‘“‘chick-adee-dee-dee.” Not at all diffident, a Chickadee would fly 
down and take a seed, even while I would be very near at hand focusing the 
camera. Sometimes an impatient little Black-cap lit on the camera while 
awaiting his turn at the suet. At times an argument and a brawl occurred 
among them, possibly because one had stayed too long in looking for a 
choice seed. 
Several charming Tufted Titmice visited the feeding station, although 
this was usually when the weather was severe. I found them easier to 
photograph than their cousins, the Chickadees, because they weren’t inces- 
santly moving about. Occasionally a Titmouse would eat several seeds on 
the shelf, and when this happened, a quarrel generally followed with the 
restless Chickadees. 
