The particular woodpecker to which I refer drilled his first hole in my
apple-tree one fall four or five years ago. This he occupied till the
following spring when he abandoned it. The next fall he began a hole
in an adjoining limb, later than before, and when it was about half
completed a female took possession of his old quarters. I am sorry to
say that this seemed to enrage the male, very much, and he persecuted
the poor bird whenever she appeared upon the scene. He would fly at
her spitefully and drive her off. One chilly November morning, as I
passed under the tree, I heard the hammer of the little architect in
his cavity, and at the same time saw the persecuted female sitting at
the entrance of the other hole as if she would fain come out. She was
actually shivering, probably from both fear and cold. I understood
the situation at a glance; the bird was afraid to come forth and brave
the anger of the male. Not till I had rapped smartly upon the limb
with my stick did she come out and attempt to escape; but she had not
gone ten feet from the tree before the male was in hot pursuit, and in
a few moments had driven her back to the same tree, where she tried to
avoid him among the branches.
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