Part 8

_Spring and courtship._--As spring advances, the downy woodpecker seems to wake up; it attracts our notice by its more frequent notes and increased activity. During the cold months of the year the bird has been comparatively silent, although even in the depth of winter we may occasionally hear its single _chip_ and even the long whinny, but in April, for so sedate a bird, it becomes a lively personality; it moves about quickly--sometimes with lightninglike agility--and takes a voluble interest in the members of its own species.

Francis H. Allen, in his notes, gives the two following graphic accounts of the initial stage of the bird’s courtship: “April 10, 1904. West Roxbury, Mass. I found two downy woodpeckers courting--at least, I suppose that was what they were up to. They acted like mating flickers, chasing each other about from tree to tree, keeping almost constantly on the move and only pausing now and then to execute a sort of dance, spreading their wings and tails. From time to time I heard from them a long call resembling the flicker’s _whick, whick whick whick_, etc., but higher pitched than the flicker’s and, of course, not so loud. Less often I heard another note--a softer, slighter, more hurried call, similar in quality. I did not make out whether, these two calls were made by different sexes, nor did I positively make out that the birds were a pair, they kept in such constant motion. At least once one lit crosswise of a twig. At last one flew off, and then the familiar and characteristic long call of a downy sounded from another direction, and the remaining bird flew over to the third bird, which was clinging to the trunk of an elm. Then these two stayed in each other’s company but did not conduct so elaborate a dance as the first couple.

“All this time a fourth bird had been drumming on a tree not far away. I went up to the place and timed the drum calls, finding each roll to last about two seconds. I could not count the taps, but thought they numbered eight or ten to each roll. While I watched this bird, another downy came along, sounding the flickerlike call, but rather faintly, and the drummer flew to join her. They flew off together. I believe it is only the male that drums, and I think it probable that the bird that answered the drummer was the one that had taken part in the dance before described, for that bird when she left her partner had flown off in this direction.

“April 8, 1917. West Roxbury. Watched a pair courting this morning for several minutes. Both sexes had a curious ‘weaving’ action, moving the head and whole body from side to side on the tip of the tail as a pivot with the neck stretched out and bill pointed on a line with the body, and the whole body elongated. They did this both when clinging to the side of a trunk and when on a horizontal or slanting branch. They were silent but very active, flitting one after the other from branch to branch and tree to tree, but making only short flights. The waving, or ‘weaving,’ motion of the head was rather rapid, perhaps two waves, that is from left to right and back again, in about a second--but this is stated from general impressions and memory only. These birds did not spread the wings and tail as did the courting pair observed on April 10, 1904, and, as stated, they uttered no note.”

My notes refer to a bit of courtship observed during the actual breeding season, May 11, 1911, in a wooded swamp in Lexington, Mass., where the species used to nest every year. The female bird was perched motionless along a horizontal limb of a tree, and the male was poised in the air just behind and a little above her. He was hovering. His wings were more than half spread, I should say, and waving slowly up and down, a maneuver which displayed finely the rows of white spots on the flight feathers and coverts.

William Brewster (1936), in his Concord journal under date of May 5, 1905, notes another form of courtship. He says: “At 8 A. M. saw a pair of Downy Woodpeckers in young oaks behind Ball’s Hill, behaving very strangely. They kept flying from tree to tree, flapping their wings slowly and feebly like butterflies, sometimes moving on a level plane, sometimes in long loops, occasionally sailing from tree to tree in a long _deep_ loop. Their wings had a strange fin-like appearance due, probably, to the way they were held or flexed. They both uttered a low, harsh, chattering cry, almost incessantly. No doubt this was a love performance, but they were male and female and both ‘showed off’ in the same way.”

Lewis O. Shelley (1932), who, at East Westmoreland, N. H., has had an extensive experience with banded birds throughout the year, describes the courtship thus:

Courtship activities begin rather early with the male’s tattooing commencing in the warm days of March. I believe the most active mating display is given by a new male that desires a mate, not by a male mated the previous year whose mate is still living. The latter male seems to give a protective display to its rival, seemingly just enough to hold his mate’s trust.

In the spring of 1931, father and son * * * fought for and 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.