Birds Illustrated by Color Photography [February, 1898]

THE RED-BELLIED WOODPECKER

A little Woodpecker am I,

And you may always know

When I am searching for a worm,

For tap, tap, tap, I go.

Oh yes, I am proud of my appearance, but really I am not proud of my name. Sometimes I am called the “Zebra Bird,” on account of the bands of white and black on my back and wings. That is a much prettier name, I think, than the Red-bellied Woodpecker, don’t you? Certainly it is more genteel.

I know a bird that is called the Red-eyed Vireo, because his eyes are red. Well, my eyes are red, too. Then why not call me the Red-eyed Woodpecker? Still the Woodpeckers are such a common family I don’t much care about that either.

In the last number of Birds that saucy red-headed cousin of mine had his picture and a letter. Before very long the Red-cockaded Woodpecker will have his picture taken too, I suppose.

Dear, dear! If all the Woodpeckers are going to write to you, you will have a merry time. Why, I can count twenty-four different species of that family and I have only four fingers, or toes, to count on, and you little folks have five. There may be more of them, Woodpeckers I mean, for all I know.

Speaking about toes! I have two in front and two behind. There are some Woodpeckers that have only three, two in front and one behind. It’s a fact, I assure you. I thought I would tell you about it before one of the three toed fellows got a chance to write to you about it himself.

I am not so shy and wary a bird as some people think I am. When I want an insect, or worm, I don’t care how many eyes are watching me, but up the tree I climb in my zigzag fashion, crying

chaw-chaw

, or

chow-chow

 in a noisy sort of way. Sometimes I say

chuck, chuck, chuck

! The first is Chinese, and the last English, you know. You might think it sounded like the bark of a small dog, though.

I am fond of flies and catch them on the wing. I like ripe apples, too; and oh, what a

good

 time I have in winter raiding the farmer’s corn crib! I have only to hammer at the logs with my sharp bill, and soon I can squeeze myself in between them and eat my fill. I understand the farmer doesn’t like it very much.

THE RED BELLIED WOODPECKER

ZEBRA BIRD” is the name by which this handsome Woodpecker will be recognized by many readers. Some regard it as the most beautiful of the smaller species of its tribe. As may be seen, the whole crown and nape are scarlet in the male. In the female they are only partly so, but sufficiently to make the identification easy. A bird generally of retired habits, seeking the deepest and most unfrequented forests to breed, it is nevertheless often found in numbers in the vicinity of villages where there are a few dead and partially decayed trees, in which they drill their holes, high up on a limb, or in the bole of the tree. When engaged in hammering for insects it frequently utters a short, singular note, which Wilson likens to the bark of a small dog. We could never liken it to anything, it is so characteristic, and must be heard to be appreciated.

Chaw, chaw

, repeated twice, and with vigor, somewhat resembles the hoarse utterance.

Prof. D. E. Lantz states that this species in the vicinity of Manhattan, Kansas, exhibits the same familiarity as the Flicker, the Red-headed and Downy Woodpeckers. About a dozen nests were observed, the excavations ranging usually less than twenty feet from the ground. One nest in a burrow of a large dead limb of an elm tree was found May 12, and contained five eggs. The birds are very much attached to their nests. If the nest is destroyed by man or beast, the birds almost immediately begin excavating another nest cavity for the second set, always in the vicinity of the first nest, often in the same tree.

In its search for food, the “Zebra Bird,” regardless of the presence of man, climbs in its usual spiral or zigzag manner the trees and their branches boldly uttering now and then its familiar

chaw, chaw

, darting off occasionally to catch a passing insect upon the wing. Its flight is undulating, and its habits in many respects are like those of the Red-headed, but it is not so much of an upland bird, or lover of berries and fruits, and therefore more respected by the farmer. In contest with the Red-head it is said to be invariably vanquished.

The North American family of Woodpeckers – consisting of about twenty-five species – is likely to be brought together in Birds for the first time. We have already presented several species, and will figure others as we may secure the finest specimens. Occasionally a foreign Woodpecker will appear. About three hundred and fifty species are known, and they are found in all the wooded parts of the world except Australia and Madagascar.

A FORCED PARTNERSHIP

A pair of Robins had made their nest on the horizontal branch of an evergreen tree which stood near a dwelling house, and the four young had hatched when a pair of English Sparrows selected the same branch for their nest. When the Robins refused to vacate their nest, the Sparrows proceeded to build theirs upon the outside of the Robin’s nest. To this the Robins made no objection, so both families lived and thrived together on the same branch, with nests touching. The young of both species developed normally, and in due time left their nests. The branch bearing both nests is now preserved in the college museum. —

Oberlin College Bulletin.

WHAT IS AN EGG?

How many people crack an egg, swallow the meat, and give it no further thought. Yet, to a reflective mind the egg constitutes, it has been said, the greatest wonder of nature. The highest problems of organic development, and even of the succession of animals on the earth, are embraced here. “Every animal springs from an egg,” is a dictum of Harvey that has become an axiom.

In an egg one would suppose the yolk to be the animal. This is not so. It is merely food – the animal is the little whitish circle seen on the membrane enveloping the yolk.

We hope to group a number of eggs, to enable our readers to compare their size and shape, from that of the Epyornis, six times the size of an Ostrich egg, down to the tiny egg that is found in the soft nest of the Humming-bird. This gigantic egg is a foot long and nine inches across, and would hold as much as fifty thousand Humming-bird’s eggs.

THE SAW-WHET OWL

“The Lark is but a bumpkin fowl;

He sleeps in his nest till morn;

But my blessing upon the jolly Owl

That all night blows his horn.”

A CURIOUS name for a bird, we are inclined to say when we meet with it for the first time, but when we hear its shrill, rasping call note, uttered perhaps at midnight, we admit the appropriateness of “saw-whet.” It resembles the sound made when a large-toothed saw is being filed.

Mr. Goss says that the natural home of this sprightly little Owl is within the wild woodlands, though it is occasionally found about farm houses and even cities. According to Mr. Nelson, it is of frequent occurrence in Chicago, where, upon some of the most frequented streets in the residence portion of the city, a dozen specimens have been taken within two years. It is very shy and retiring in its habits, however, rarely leaving its secluded retreats until late at eve, for which reason it is doubtless much mo