It was about the tenth of May of the following spring when my red-headed
neighbor returned from his southern trip, where he had spent the winter.
He was soon hard at work and had the lawn sprinkled with his white chips
about the root of a pine stub, as he burrowed into the wood a few feet
above, where he was making a new nest, the spot having been selected
during the past summer. Here, at that time, he had done some preliminary
work in the way of a prospect hole, evidently with the view of
returning.
With a quick hammer-like stroke of the head, he drove his sharp polished
beak into the decaying wood, rapidly repeating the strokes till the
pulpy fiber was broken down and then with a mouthful of the loosened
fragments, he hitched back out of the entrance, flinging the chips to
the wind.
After a quick survey of the surrounding and a peek around the tree to
see if there was any approaching danger, he dove into the hole again to
make further excavations, soon returning, tail first, with another
mouthful of refuse. After several days’ work on the new nest, he came in
contact with the hard resinous heart of a knot that he was unable to
remove. To get by this obstruction and still be able to utilize the work
done, he changed the entrance from a circle to an ellipse by extending
it downward. This bit of strategy worked well in getting by the
difficulty, but it proved to be only temporary.
The nest was completed in the allotted two weeks and the female came on
time. After a very warm greeting she was shown the nest for her
approval; but on sight of the new-fangled entrance, she halted, showing
her disapproval in many ways. To overcome her objections, the old man
went in and out as a demonstration; then hopping close up to her side,
he talked in a low voice, making many gestures with his head, sometimes
picking at the tree in an absent-minded way, as a man thoughtlessly
whittles while pleading his cause. Seeing that she did not readily
assent, he went in and out three or four times in rapid succession; then
sidling up to her again began his persuasive chatter, but all to no
purpose; she gave a decided answer and flew away.
After a little hesitation he followed her. In about an hour they came
back. After some maneuvering about the yard he got her back to the nest,
but not in it. He tried in every way, but no amount of coaxing could
induce her to go in, and refusing to listen longer to his argument, she
again flew away. Now he was disconsolate, flying away, then returning to
go in and take another look at the nest, then flying to the housetop to
pout. Yes, pout, for at all other times he would drum and make a great
deal of noise; now, he was sulky and silent.
Next morning they came back, when, if possible, he tried harder than
ever to get her to inspect the nest, but without success. She was
obdurate, and, after sitting quiet until he was through his
demonstrations and chatter, she flew away over the fields, uttering a
loud cry as she left him sticking to the side of the tree. He sat still
a few moments, seemingly in a brown study, then he began hopping about
the trunk of the tree, where in a short time he had selected a place and
gone to work with a will in making a new nest, that was completed in a
little more than eight days. Very little was seen of the female during
the completion of the new home. She was in the yard a few times, but
never near the tree where the male was at work.
He had made no mistake this time, the entrance was round and clean cut
as an augur hole. When the madam was escorted to the new nest there was
no hesitation about inspecting it; she entered at once. Coming out a
moment later, she made it known that the nest was satisfactory. Then the
old man was jubilant, expressing it by voice and action. From this
moment domestic affairs went on as usual and the family jar was
forgotten, so far as an outsider could observe.
Eggs, baby birds, busy days, fall and southern journey, ended this year
with my pleasant summer neighbor.