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 T H E  P I L E A T E D  WOODPECKER.  
 Pic us PILEATUS, Linn.  
 P L A T E  C X I .  MALE, FEMALE, AND YOUNG MALES.  
 IT  would be difficult for me to say in what  part of our extensive  country  
 I  have not met with  this  hardy  inhabitant of  the forest.  Even now,  
 when  several species of  our  birds  are  becoming  rare,  destroyed  as they  
 are,  either  to gratify  the palate of  the  epicure, or  to adorn  the cabinet of  
 the naturalist,  the Pileated Woodpecker  is every where  to be found  in the  
 wild  woods, although  scarce and shy in the peopled  districts.  
 Wherever it occurs it is a permanent  resident,  and, like its relative the  
 Ivory-billed  Woodpecker,  it remains  pretty  constantly  in the place which  
 it  has  chosen  after  leaving  its  parents.  It is at all times a shy bird, so  
 that  one can seldom  approach  it, unless  under  cover of a tree, or when he  
 happens  accidentally  to surprise  it  while  engaged  in its  daily  avocations.  
 When seen in a large field  newly  brought  into  tillage,  and yet covered  
 with  girdled  trees, it removes from one to another,  cackling  out its laughter 
 like notes,  as if  it  found  delight  in leading  you a wild-goose  chase in  
 pursuit of it.  When followed  it always  alights  on the tallest  branches or  
 trunks of  trees,  removes to the side  farthest off, from which  it  every moment  
 peeps, as it watches your progress  in silence;  and so well does it seem  
 to  know  the distance  at which a shot  can  reach  it,  that  it seldom  permits  
 so near  an approach.  Often  when  you  think  the next  step will  take you  
 near  enough  to fire with  certainty,  the wary  bird flies off before  you can  
 reach  it.  Even  in the wildest  parts of  Eastern  Florida,  where I  have at  
 times followed  it, to assure  myself  that  the birds I saw were of  the same  
 species as that found  in our distant  Atlantic  States, its vigilance was not in  
 the  least  abated.  For  miles  have I  chased it from  one  cabbage-tree  to  
 another, without  ever  getting  within  shooting  distance,  until  at last I was  
 forced  to resort  to stratagem,  and  seeming  to abandon  the  chase,  took a  
 circuitous  route,  concealed  myself in its course, and waited  until  it came  
 up,  when, it  being now on the side of  the  trees next  to me, I  had no difficulty  
 in bringing it down. I  shall  never  forget,  that,  while in the Great  
 Pine  Forest of Pennsylvania, I spent several  days in the woods  endeavour- 
 PILEATED  WOODPECKER.  75  
 irig  to  procure  one, for  the  same  purpose of  proving  its  identity with  
 others elsewhere  seen.  
 Their  natural  wildness  never  leaves  them,  even  although  they may  
 have  been  reared from  the nest. I will  give you an instance of  this, as  
 related  to  me by my generous  friend  the  Reverend  JOHN  BACHMAN of  
 Charleston,  who also  speaks of  the  cruelty of  the  species. " A  pair of  
 Fileated  Woodpeckers  had a nest  in an  old  elm  tree,  in a swamp which  
 they occupied  that  year;  the next  spring  early,  two Blue  Birds  took  possession  
 of  it,  and  there  had  young.  Before  these were  half  grown, the  
 Woodpeckers returned  to the place, and, despite of the cries and  reiterated  
 attacks of the Blue  Birds,  the others  took  the young, not very  gently,  
 as you may imagine,  and carried  them  away  to some distance.  Next  the  
 nest  itself was disposed of, the hole  cleaned  and enlarged,  and  there  they  
 raised a brood.  The nest,  it is true, was originally  their own.  The  tree  
 was  large,  but so  situated,  that, from  the  branches of  another I  could  
 reach  the nest.  The hole was  about  1 8 inches  deep,  and I  could  touch  
 the  bottom with  my  hand.  The  eggs, which were  laid  on  fragments  
 of  chips,  expressly  left  by  the  birds,  were  six,  large,  white  and  translucent. 
  Before  the Woodpeckers  began  to  sit, I  robbed  them of  their  
 eggs,  to see if  they would  lay a second  time.  They  waited a few  days  
 as if  undecided,  when on a sudden I  heard  the  female  at  work  again  in  
 the  tree;  she  once  more  deepened  the hole,  made  it  broader  at  bottom,  
 and recommenced  laying.  This  time she laid five  eggs. I suffered  her  
 to  bring out her young,  both  sexes  alternately  incubating,  each  visiting  
 the  other  at intervals,  peeping  into  the hole  to see that  all was right  and  
 well  there, and flying off afterwards  in search of food.  
 When  the young  were sufficiently  grown  to be taken  out with  safety,  
 which I  ascertained  by seeing  them  occasionally  peeping  out of  the hole,  
 I  carried  them  home,  to  judge of  their  habits in  confinement,  and  attempted  
 to raise  them. I  found  it  exceedingly difficult  to entice them  to  
 open  their  bill in order  to feed  them.  They  were  sullen  and cross,  nay,  
 three  died in a few days;  but the others,  having  been fed on  grasshoppers  
 forcibly  introduced  into  their  mouths,  were raised.  In a short  time  they  
 began  picking  up the grasshoppers  thrown  into  their  cage, and were  fully  
 fed  with  corn-meal, which  they  preferred  eating  dry.  Their  whole employment  
 consisted in  attempting  to escape from  their  prison,  regularly  
 demolishing  one every  two  days,  although  made of  pine  boards of  tolerable  
 thickness. I  at last had one  constructed with oak boards at the back