sought the favor of the young female * * * the son finally
winning after days of courtship in our yard and vicinity.
* * * Courting lasted for upwards of two weeks, or perhaps
longer, before the female made her choice. Of the two
rivals the son finally was accepted, the older male shortly
disappearing. * * * The courtship display of these three
birds was the same as I have observed with other mating
Downy Woodpeckers elsewhere in past seasons. At my station
the mating activities began when the birds first met and
was continued more or less regularly thereafter. The
female is usually rather quiet, sometimes giving a _week,
week, week, week_, or again a squeaking note. The males
give forth a loud _wick, wick, wick, wick, wick, wick_,
sometimes with a rolling _k-k-k-k-k_ at the end. Very
little drumming on resonant objects is done by the male,
once a female is located, and in this case almost none was
done except when one male was out of sight and hearing
of the female and the other courting bird. To the casual
observer, the chasing of the female by the male to a tree,
and from tree to tree, in a seemingly idle manner (often,
but not always, by both males) is in reality a part of the
mating manoeuvres.
When it happens that both males are in pursuit, the
activities take on an added impetus. I have a number of
times seen one male dash headlong across a fifty-yard
opening to where the other two birds were, loudly uttering
his cry, and, when alighting, dash at his adversary, the
female squeaking intermittently, and swinging her body
from side to side. The display also consists of spread
wings nervously fluttered; raising and lowering of the
scarlet patch; mad dashes from one tree to another at the
fleeing female, who dodges to the opposite side of the
tree as the pursuing bird alights; loud calls at intervals
when he stops in his mad hopping up the limbs and smaller
branches. This activity may last from five to thirty
minutes, from the large elm in our yard, where the birds
feed, to a larger area either south or east of the house.
When two birds are alone together, it is common to find
them perching near together and motionless for considerable
periods of time, but let the second male appear and the
first male will drive the female from the tree and the
round is begun again. When two males come face to face in
a headlong rush, wings spread, crest raised, and beak open
in a challenging attitude, it is mostly sham, for they
soon quiet down unless one advances up the tree toward the
female clinging immovable above.
There is a period when the male is very active in his
rushing of the female--I suppose to make sure of his
desire, a mate--but this phase of courtship plays no part
in the act of copulation, which I have seen enacted early
in the morning, a quiet, matter-of-fact performance.
The first and last paragraphs of this quotation are taken from Mr.
Shelley’s manuscript notes.
_Nesting._--The downy woodpecker nests in a cavity that the birds
themselves drill in a branch or stub 8 feet (rarely less) to 50 feet
(rarely more) above the ground, generally in dead or dying wood,
sometimes in a solid branch. The entrance, one and a quarter inches
in diameter, is just large enough to admit the bird’s body, and is
perfectly circular unless some bits of soft wood chip off. The cavity
is roughly gourd-shaped, turning downward and widening soon after
penetrating the wood and extends to a depth varying normally from eight
to twelve inches. Generally a few chips are left in the bottom of the
cavity.
Lewis O. Shelley says (MS.) that according to his experience “the
female selects the nest site on her winter, or year-round, territory.”
He speaks of a female that in the fall “partly dug out a cavity,
supposedly for her winter quarters, but the following summer I found a
brood of young of this same bird occupying the nest.”
Writers are almost unanimously of the opinion that both birds of the
pair excavate the nest, but Shelley (MS.) states: “Of a number of nests
observed, I have never known the male downy to assist in excavating. He
often comes near when the female is working, but this seems to be an
understood signal for her to cease work and go off in his company.”
A. Dawes DuBois, in a letter to Mr. Bent, describes the behavior of a
pair working jointly on a nest in Ithaca, N. Y., about 15 feet up in
an old stub. He says: “These birds were working the lower depths. The
partners worked alternately. First the female lighted on the stub and
disappeared within the cavity. Immediately she thrust out her head,
and, with a quick shake, disposed of a billful of chips. She repeated
this a number of times. She was throwing out the loose chips from
the bottom of the cavity. Soon she began to chisel, remaining inside
where we could not see her. After she had been working for five or six
minutes, her mate flew to the stub and uttered a chirp, whereupon the
female came out and flew away.
“The male went in to continue the work by a somewhat different method.
He was never entirely lost to view--his tail was always visible--and he
backed out of the hole to dispose of the chips. He ruffled his feathers
considerably in squirming out backward, as his body was a snug fit
in the entrance hole. He threw out a quantity of loose chips in this
manner and then began chiseling, his tail meanwhile protruding from the
doorway. He worked for 22 minutes; then his mate came back.
“She went inside and came out with her mouth quite full of chips; but
instead of tossing the chips to the ground, she flew off with them to
another tree. She stayed away for several minutes, then returned and
went to work in her accustomed way, staying within the cavity, and
thrusting only her head outside. When she had worked about 15 minutes
the male came again to the entrance. She put her head out of the
doorway; they rubbed their bills together, and chirped a few remarks.
The female then flew away and the male took up the task again.”
Audubon (1842) says: “About the middle of April it begins to form
its nest, shewing little care as to the kind of tree it selects for
the purpose, although it generally chooses a sound one, sometimes,
however, taking one that is partially decayed. The pair work together
for several days before the hole is completed, sometimes perhaps a
whole week, as they dig it to a depth of a foot or sixteen inches. The
direction is sometimes perpendicularly downwards from the commencement,
sometimes transverse to the tree for four or five inches, and then
longitudinal. The hole is rendered smooth and conveniently large
throughout, the entrance being perfectly round, and just large enough
to admit one bird at a time.”
A. Dawes DuBois (MS.) writes that the male bird of a pair was caught in
a nest 6 feet from the ground, evidently incubating the six eggs well
advanced in development. This observation is in accord with the general
belief that the male takes his share in incubation.
Mrs. Alice Hall Walter (1912) states that “in the North, only one brood
is raised during a season; but it is not uncommon in the South for one
brood to be raised in May and a second in August.”
_Eggs._--[AUTHOR’S NOTE: The northern downy woodpecker lays ordinarily
four or five eggs, though sets of three or six are not rare, and as
many as seven or even eight eggs have been found in a nest. The eggs
are pure white, either dull white or more or less glossy, and they
vary in shape from ovate to rounded-ovate. The measurements of 55 eggs
average 19.35 by 15.05 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes
measure =22.35= by =16.26=, =17.78= by 14.73, and 18.80 by =13.97=
millimeters.]
_Young._--The incubation period of the downy woodpecker is 12 days,
according to Frank L. Burns (1915) and Dr. Arthur A. Allen (1928).
Whether in their earliest days the young birds, hidden in the depths of
their dark chamber, are fed by regurgitation has not been determined,
but very soon after they leave the egg food is brought directly to
them. Dr. Allen (MS.) says: “Certainly by the time the young are four
or five days old entire insects are brought in the parents’ bills and
given to the young; I have photographic proof of this.”
Craig S. Thoms (1927), in a study of the nesting habits in South
Dakota, says: “On June 9 the young were beginning to come up to the
door of their excavation to receive food. Presumably the largest and
strongest sticks his head clear out. When he fed he subsided and the
next came up, but not quite so far. He in his turn subsided and the
parent entered to feed the weaker ones still farther down. * * *
“On June 12 the last of the young left the nest, which upon being
measured was found to be 10 inches deep.”
A. Dawes DuBois (MS.) tells of the flight of the young birds from the
nest: “The young chattered most of the time during the last two days of
nest life. One at a time they looked out a great deal at the strange
outer world. They left the nest on June 11. The last two, a male and a
female, left during the afternoon, each after being fed at the entrance
and seeing the parent fly away. The young male flew from the nest hole
straight to a tree 60 feet away. His sister quickly followed, lighting
on the trunk of the same tree and following her parent up the hole in
the hitching manner of their kind as though she had been practicing
this vertical locomotion all her life.”
_Plumages._--[AUTHOR’S NOTE: Young downy woodpeckers are hatched naked
and blind, but the juvenal plumage is acquired before the young leave
the nest. In this first plumage, the young male is much like the adult
male, except that the red nuchal patch is lacking; the forehead is
black, spotted with white, but the crown and occiput are more or less
marked with various shades of red, pinkish, or yellowish, as well as
spotted with white; the black portions of the plumage are duller than
in the adult; the sides of the breast are streaked and the flanks
obscurely spotted with dusky; the white areas, underparts, and white
spots elsewhere, as well as the rectrices, are tinged with yellowish.
The young female is like the young male, except that there is no red on
the head, and the crown is clear black, or black spotted with white.
L. L. Snyder (1923) has shown that young males sometimes have only
white markings on a black crown and that young females sometimes have
reddish, pinkish, or yellowish markings on the crown.
The juvenal plumage is worn but a short time, for a complete molt,
beginning in September or earlier, produces a first winter plumage,
which is practically adult. Adults have a complete annual molt from
July to September. Both adults and young show a tinge of yellowish in
the white areas in fresh fall plumage, which gradually fades away.]
_Food._--F. E. L. Beal (1911) in an examination of the contents of 723
stomachs of the downy woodpecker found that 76.05 percent was animal
matter, the remaining 23.95 percent vegetable matter. The following
quotations are from his exhaustive report.
Beetles taken collectively amount to 21.55 percent, and are
the largest item of the food. Of these, a little less than
14 percent are wood-boring larvae. * * * They were found in
289 stomachs, or about 40 percent of all, and 10 contained
no other food. This is only about half the amount found in
the stomachs of the hairy woodpecker, and shows that the
downy pecks wood much less than the hairy. These larvae
are eaten at all times of the year, though the most are
taken in the cooler months. * * * The economic value of the
destruction of these larvae is very great.
Weevils amount to a little more than 3 percent, but appear
to be a rather favorite food, as they were found in 107
stomachs. * * *
Ants are eaten by the downy to the extent of 21.36 percent
of its diet, and are taken more regularly than any other
element of the food. * * *
Caterpillars appear to be a very acceptable food for the
downy woodpecker, as they constitute 16.50 percent of the
yearly diet. * * *
Fruit was eaten to the extent of 5.85 percent of the whole
food. Most of it is of useless wild varieties. * * *
The charge sometimes made that the downy injures trees by
eating the inner bark is disproved. It eats cambium rarely
and in small quantities.
Beal gives a list of 20 seeds and fruits found in the downy’s food.
Summarizing his findings, he says: “The foregoing discussion of the
food of the downy woodpecker shows it to be one of our most useful
species. The only complaint against the bird is on the score of
disseminating the poisonous species of Rhus. However, it is fortunate
that the bird can live on this food when it is difficult to procure
anything else. The insect food selected by the downy is almost all of
species economically harmful.”
Forbush (1927) lays stress on the usefulness of the downy to man; he
says that it “searches out the pine weevil which kills the topmost
shoot of the young white pine and so causes a crook in the trunk of the
tree, unfitting it for the lumber market.”
Mrs. Alice Hall Walter (1912) shows how well the downy is equipped to
secure its food. She says that the feet, two toes in front and two
behind, “serve to _clamp_ the bird to the tree.” She continues:
Additional support is furnished by the stiff, sharply
pointed tail-feathers, that act as a brace when the bird
delivers heavy blows with its beak. Effective as this
tool is for the work of _hammer_, _wedge_, _drill_ and
_pick-axe_, it could not obtain the deeply hidden grubs
known as “borers,” from their tortuous, tunneled grooves,
without the aid of the long, slender, extensile tongue. In
the case of the Hairy and Downy, as well as some others of
the family, this remarkable tool is provided with barbs,
converting it into a spear, which may be hurled one inch,
two inches or even more, beyond the tip of the beak.
A. Dawes DuBois says in his notes: “I have seen a downy woodpecker
industriously applying the percussion test to the dried stalks of
the previous summer’s horse weeds, which grow to prodigious size in
the creek bottoms near Springfield, Illinois. He went up each stalk,
tapping it lightly, and frequently stopping to pierce the shell and
extract a worm from the pith. I found that the weed stems he had
visited were punctured and splintered in numerous places.”
The following note by Elliott R. Tibbets (1911) shows how agile the
downy is on the wing. He was watching some birds at a feeding shelf. “I
was told,” he says, “to throw a cracked nut into the air and see what
followed--I did so, and, to my surprise, the Downy darted after it, not
allowing it to touch the ground, and then returned to the evergreen,
where he proceeded to pick the kernel from the hard shell.”
Henry D. Minot (1877) also mentions that they “catch insects on the
wing.”
_Behavior._--The downy woodpecker sits very still as it digs out a
grub from under the bark of a tree, or from the wood under the bark,
or as it dislodges a bit of bark in its hunt for a cocoon or a bundle
of insects’ eggs. We hear the gentle taps of its bill, and when our
eyes, led by the sound, catch sight of the bird, perched on a branch or
the trunk of a tree, we understand why it has been called industrious.
It is concentrated on its work; it works patiently, seriously, like a
carpenter working earnestly with his chisel, spending a full minute,
sometimes more, to secure a bit of food.
As it sits there quietly, working painstakingly at the bark, it gives
the impression of a rather sedentary bird, deliberate and staid,
but when it begins to move about--taking short flights among the
branches--alighting on little swaying twigs and flitting off again--we
see it in another mood. It is lively now; all deliberateness is gone.
It hops upward over the branches with quick jerky hops, rearing back a
little after each one; it may descend a little way by backward hitches;
it winds about the smaller branches, peering at the right side, the
left side, and around at the back; it flits to a twig no thicker than a
pencil for the space of a single peck, and then is off with the speed
of an arrow, weaving and undulating through a maze of branchlets,
cutting the air audibly with its wings.
We can watch the downy woodpecker best in winter when the trees and
shrubs are bare. But even in such an exposed situation as a leafless
tree, we do not find it a conspicuous bird--one hop and it is hidden
behind a branch, seeming almost to glide out of our sight. At the
slightest alarm it disappears; it uses a branch as a shield--slipping
behind it, safe from observation or attack.
The bird is at home also in shrubbery, moving easily among the smaller
branches, hitching along their slender length, picking at the bark, and
leaping from one branch to another with the aid of a flip of the wings.
It sits crosswise on a perch scarcely bigger than a twig, leaning
forward a little, bill outstretched, suggesting in position and outline
a tiny kingfisher.
Here, at close range, on a level with our eyes, we realize how rapid
the bird’s motions are. The beak strikes and draws back--the two
movements a single flash. The head turns to one side, to the other
side, bringing first one dark shining eye, then the other, to bear on
the bark; we see the head in the two positions, although we get only a
hint of the motion between.
Thus the day’s work goes on, until the downy, replete with the results
of its industry, rests motionless for a while on a high, sunny branch,
taking its ease.
The downy woodpecker, like most of its family, has an undulating flight
when flying any considerable distance. The undulations are not deep, as
in the plunging flight of a goldfinch; it gives rather the effect of a
ship pitching slightly in a head sea. A few strokes carry the bird up
to the crest of the wave--the wings clapping close to the sides of the
body--then, at the crest, with the wings shut, the bird tilts slightly
forward, and slides down into the next trough.
Besides employing its strong beak and the powerful muscles of its neck
to secure food and dig out a cavity for its nest, the downy woodpecker
makes use of them to beat a loud tattoo on the branch of a tree or some
other resonant object. This habit is oftenest noticed in spring, when
it appears to form a part of courtship or a prelude to it, but Lewis
O. Shelley says in his notes that “on February 3, 1934, a male downy
commenced its drumming on a dead elm branch near the house. A few hours
earlier the temperature had been 5° below zero. On the 6th, 8th, and
9th he was tattooing at the usual hour, about 8 a. m. On the 8th the
temperature registered zero, and on the 9th 18° below zero!”
Dr. Charles W. Townsend, in his Ipswich manuscript notes, under date
of March 16, 1930, speaks of “a male bird hammering a _rat-at-at-too_
on the apex of a telephone pole for three seconds. He then paused,
hunching up a little and looking about for from five to twelve seconds,
before resuming the hammering. He made a small round dent in the pole,
but there were no chips.”
A. Dawes DuBois tells in his notes the following anecdote: “One April
day I watched this avian drummer as he entertained himself by beating
on the wooden insulator-pins of an unused cross-arm on a telegraph
pole. From each pin he rang out a different tone--loud, clear, and
high-pitched. It was evident that this pleased him, for he hopped from
one pin to another to repeat the variations.”
I have found in the books no mention of drumming by the female downy,
but at the end of the extract from William Brewster’s notes, quoted
under “Courtship,” in which he describes a mutual display by a pair of
birds, he adds: “Both sexes drum, also.”
William Brewster (1876b) points out the difference between the tattoo
of the downy woodpecker and that of the hairy woodpecker and the
yellow-bellied sapsucker. He says: “_P. pubescens_ has a long unbroken
roll, _P. villosus_ a shorter and louder one with a greater interval
between each stroke: while _S. varius_ commencing with a short roll
ends very emphatically with five or six distinct disconnected taps.”
R. Owen Merriam (1920) gives, from Hamilton, Canada, an instance of
“snow bathing.” He says:
This morning a female Downy Woodpecker that I was watching
flew to a horizontal branch and proceeded vigorously to
bathe in the loose snow lying there. Like a Robin in a
puddle, Mrs. Downy ducked her head, ruffled her feathers,
and fluttered her wings, throwing some of the snow over
her back and scattering the rest to the winds. As all the
snow fell off one part of the branch, she moved along to
another, until she had cleared a place about two feet
long. Two forks held more snow than the straight limb, and
apparently Mrs. Downy enjoyed herself immensely when she
came to them.
Dr. Arthur A. Allen (1928) in his admirable “Downy Woodpecker’s Story,”
published in the School Department of Bird-Lore, says, letting the bird
tell its own story: “When cold weather sets in, * * * I begin drilling
roosting-holes where I can spend the nights. I usually have to drill
quite a number for they seem to be quite popular with other birds like
the Chickadees and Nuthatches, and sometimes when I get ready to retire
I find my hole occupied by a flying squirrel or a whole family of deer
mice, and it is easier to drill a new hole than to drive them out.
One winter I got tired of drilling holes and every night retired to a
bird-house and perched on an old Wren’s nest that was in it.”
Many ornithologists, even as long ago as the time of Wilson and
Nuttall, have believed that the rows of small holes, such as we
commonly see in the bark of our orchard trees, are drilled by the downy
woodpecker. These little holes, about three-eighths of an inch across,
circular when old, but oval when fresh, are arranged in fairly regular
rows parallel to the ground, and sometimes in tiers, when they have
the appearance of a waffle. In settled regions they are found oftenest
in the trunks and the larger branches of trees belonging to the rose
family--most commonly of all in apple trees. The holes may be within 3
feet of the ground or as high as 20 feet or more above it, depending on
the height of the tree. Oftentimes they are very close together; I have
counted as many as six of them in the space of an inch and a half. The
question has arisen whether the downy woodpecker ever makes these holes.
We know now, what the older ornithologists did not know, that it is a
regular habit of the yellow-bellied sapsucker to drill such holes, but
there are plenty of statements in the ornithological literature today
ascribing the work to the downy woodpecker as well.
Dr. Charles W. Townsend (1932) gives an able summary of the literature
on this question and, after carefully weighing the evidence, comes
“to the conclusion that these well known and characteristic circles
of holes are made by true sapsuckers and not by downy or hairy
woodpeckers.”
He throws a good deal of doubt on some seemingly definite observations
from correspondents quoted by Forbush in his “Birds of Massachusetts,”
when he says that “many leave one in considerable uncertainty as to
whether the correspondents actually saw the downy woodpecker making the
rings of holes, or merely tapping in the same region, or drinking the
sap, or eating cambium from holes whose origin was not ascertained. It
may be that some of the correspondents were unable to distinguish the
true species of woodpecker.”
Dr. Townsend cites several observations, two of which are quoted below.
If the first of these had not been correctly interpreted, and if the
other had not been seen in its entirety, they might have led to error.
He says: