Sometimes
the nest is in the very heart of the woods, where the bird glides in
and out, silent as a crow in nesting time. His feeding place meanwhile
may be an old pasture half a mile away, where he calls loudly, and
frolics about as if he had never a care or a fear in the world. But
the nest is now more frequently in a wild orchard, where the bird
finds an old knot-hole and digs down through the soft wood, making a
deep nest with very little trouble. When the knot-hole is not well
situated, he finds a large decayed limb and drills through the outer
hard shell, then digs down a foot or more through the soft wood, and
makes a nest. In this nest the rain never troubles him, for he very
providently drills the entrance on the under side of the limb.
Like many other birds, he has discovered that the farmer is his
friend. Occasionally, therefore, he neglects to build a deep nest,
simply hollowing out an old knot-hole, and depending on the presence
of man for protection from hawks and owls. At such times the bird very
soon learns to recognize those who belong in the orchard, and loses
the extreme shyness that characterizes him at all other times.
Once a farmer, knowing my interest in birds, invited me to come and
see a golden-winged woodpecker, which in her confidence had built so
shallow a nest that she could be seen sitting on the eggs like a
robin.
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