Chapter D: E. Brown, in his notes from western Washington, says: “Gairdner’s (2)

There are cases, however, in which the relationship between the birds is very puzzling. In the following scene, from my notes, there is a hint of hostility or remonstrance, but a suggestion of courtship also--out of place, it seems, in autumn between two female birds. “October 15, 1935. Two birds are in a large, bare maple tree; one is noticeably larger than the other, but neither one has a red occipital patch. They keep near each other, one following the other by short, quick flights. They perch perfectly motionless for a moment a foot or two apart; then both together sway their heads, swinging them quickly down and up to one side, down and up to the other side. The swing is very rapid, like the wink of an eye. They flit their wings upward and outward, also with the speed of a wink, over and over--all this without a sound. They fly behind a branch sometimes but keep mostly in sight of each other, and, although neither attacks, each seems wary of attack and dodges away when approached. They sometimes alight on very slender branches, and once a bird goes to the ground where it stands with its head held high up. They move very actively and lightly, with never the slightest blundering, flitting silently and easily from branch to branch.”

The following astonishing story, taken from William Brewster’s Concord journal (1937), tells of a case in which antagonism of unknown cause leads to the killing with brutal violence of a female downy by a male:

March 20, 1911. We were in the dining-room, consulting
about the day’s work, when we heard the _tchick_ note of
the Downy Woodpecker repeated almost incessantly and very
rapidly just outside. For a moment or more we paid no
attention to it. But something unusual in its quality and
its insistence soon led me to look out and this was what I
saw:

On the snow, among the outermost stems of the lilacs on
one side of the dense thicket that they form was a female
Downy with extended and quivering wings. About her hopped
or rather danced a handsome male, showing the red on
his occiput very conspicuously. He kept striking at her
head with his bill and occasionally he held on for a few
seconds, when the two birds fluttered about together and
perhaps rolled over once or twice, closely united. At
first I thought it an amatory encounter and I am still
almost certain that the male attempted to secure sexual
contact with the female once or twice. But if so it could
not have been his primary or at least sole object. For he
continued to peck her head even when she was lying almost
motionless on the snow. For a time she seemed to be trying
to escape and for fully two minutes her cries were piteous
and incessant. At length he left her and flew up into an
elm where he clung for a moment or two, making what seemed
to me a very unusual display of the red on his occiput.
Then of a sudden he swooped down on the female, who had
meanwhile been cowering in the middle of a cluster of
lilac stems, on the snow. Dragging her forth from this
slight shelter into an open space, he attacked her again,
this time with obvious fury, fairly raining a shower of
blows on the back of her head. She seemed too weak to make
any further attempt to escape and her cries, although
continued, were so faint that we could only just hear them.
I now realized for the first time that he was inspired by
the _lust of killing_ and not by sexual ardor. It was very
hard to refrain from rushing out and driving him away but
I restrained the impulse, not being willing to interrupt
a tragedy of such extraordinary, if repulsive, interest.
It would have made no difference anyway, for, this final
onslaught lasted only a very few seconds. During its
continuance the male Downy seemed literally beside himself
with rage. No Butcher Bird that I have ever watched
has shown, while dealing with a Mouse or Sparrow, more
murderous energy. After finishing the foul deed he left the
female lying perfectly motionless and flew up again into
the elm. We now went out and picked up the female. She was
still living but unable to move. The [back] of her head was
soaked in blood and her bare skull showed in places. She
died a little later. I skinned her and preserved her skull
which I have attached to the skin. It is _punctured in 10
or 12 places_. The bird was in normal condition physically
with healthy-looking ovary the ovules undeveloped. The only
injuries were to the skull.

Doubtless a few downy woodpeckers move southward in autumn or early in winter, especially from the northern part of the bird’s range. Dr. Charles W. Townsend in his Ipswich notes (MS.) says that he sees “evident migrants not uncommonly in October and November.” But most of our birds spend the whole year round with us, and in autumn we may watch them as they make provision for winter. Even before the leaves are off the trees--in September here in New England--we may hear, day after day as we pass a certain tree, the tapping of a downy woodpecker where, invisible from the ground, high up on a branch, it is digging out a cavity, its roosting hole, in which it will sleep alone through the long winter nights, and into which it may retreat in the daytime whenever “the frost-wind blows.”

DRYOBATES PUBESCENS NELSONI Oberholser

NELSON’S DOWNY WOODPECKER

HABITS

This large race of the downy woodpecker inhabits the wooded regions of northern Alaska and northern Canada, intergrading with _Dryobates pubescens medianus_ in southern Canada and possibly in northern New England.

Dr. H. C. Oberholser (1896a), in describing and naming it, characterizes it as “similar to _Dryobates pubescens_ [=_medianus_], but averaging larger; the under parts pure white instead of brownish; the lower tail-coverts and outer tail-feathers averaging with much less of black markings; red nuchal band of male averaging somewhat wider.”

Swainson and Richardson (1831) say: “This diminutive but exceedingly industrious Woodpecker is a constant inhabitant of the fur-countries up to the fifty-eighth parallel. It seeks its food principally on the maple, elm, and ash, and, north of latitude 54°, where these trees terminate, on the aspen and birch. Its researches are made mostly, if not wholly, on live trees.”

Dr. E. W. Nelson (1887) writes:

Throughout the Territory [Alaska] where woodland or a
growth of bushes and small trees occurs the present bird is
certain to be found, and is a resident winter and summer.
It has been taken along the entire course of the Yukon as
well as at various points on the coast of Bering Sea, and
thence south at Kadiak and Sitka. In autumn it is a rather
common visitant to the coast of Norton Sound in spite of
the lack of timber, and it was not uncommon to see it
clinging to the sides of the houses, or to the flagstaff,
and other similar supports; after resting awhile, and,
perhaps, tapping a few times on the unproductive logs, they
would leave for a more promising field. They were seen
at times passing from one alder patch to another, on the
hill-sides, and they follow the spruces and other trees to
the shore of the sea.

While I was camping in spring, at the Yukon mouth, these
birds were rather common in the dense bushes along this
stream and its tributaries. Their holes were frequently
found in the decaying stubs, although I did not find a nest
containing eggs. This species appears to frequent deciduous
thickets and trees by preference, as, in addition to the
various times which I saw it in the interior in winter,
while at the Yukon mouth, I always found it about locations
where only deciduous trees and bushes were found, and its
holes were always made in cottonwood or birch-stubs.

Judged from what little is known about them, the nesting, food, and other habits of Nelson’s downy woodpecker do not differ materially from those of its more southern relatives, except as influenced by its different environment. Living in the far north, where trees are small and scarce, it has to be content to excavate its nest in small trees or low stumps. There are very few eggs in collections; a set of five eggs in the Thayer collection was taken from a hole 4 feet from the ground in a rotten stump, near Fort Saskatchewan, Canada, on June 10, 1898. These eggs are like other eggs of the species, pure white, ovate in shape, and somewhat glossy. The measurements of 31 eggs average 19.54 by 15.43 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure =21.9= by 16.1, 19.4 by =16.4=, =17.5= by 15.0, and 18.65 by =14.28= millimeters.

DRYOBATES PUBESCENS TURATI (Malherbe)

WILLOW WOODPECKER

HABITS

The downy woodpeckers of California were for many years all called _D. p. gairdneri_, until Dr. Walter K. Fisher (1902) called attention to the smaller and lighter-colored race, which inhabits much of the coast region and nearly all the lowlands of southern California. For this race, he very properly revived Malherbe’s name, as given above, for this name was based on birds taken near Monterey. He gives as the characters of the willow woodpecker:

Smaller than _Dryobates pubescens gairdneri_, with smaller
feet; under parts lighter; the elongated superciliary patch
and rictal stripe extending over sides of neck, pure white,
instead of smoky white of _gairdneri_; tertials always more
or less spotted with white. * * *

_Dryobates pubescens turati_ is a southern representative
of _gairdneri_, which it resembles in the smoky under parts
and restricted areas of white on the wings, and from which
it differs in its smaller size, much smaller feet, and
clearer white markings of head. The present form is near
true _pubescens_ of the Southern States, but differs from
it in having much less white on the wings, the coverts
and tertials of _pubescens_ being conspicuously and often
heavily marked with white. * * *

The willow woodpecker in a typical form breeds from Los
Angeles and San Bernardino counties north in the coast
ranges to San Francisco Bay, and along the west slope of
the Sierra Nevada at least to Yuba County. Intergradation
with _gairdneri_ occurs over the coast region north of
San Francisco Bay and in the mountains at the head of the
Sacramento Valley.

Grinnell, Dixon, and Linsdale (1930) say of the haunts of the willow woodpecker in the Lassen Peak region: “Downy woodpeckers were seen most often close to streams and in orchards. Their forage places included the limbs or small trunks of willow, alder, cottonwood, sycamore, valley oak, blue oak, digger pine, and yellow pine trees.”

_Nesting._--Major Bendire (1895) writes: “Mr. Charles A. Allen informs me that it breeds in the oaks and willows along the Sacramento River, Calif., but that it is not common. Its breeding sites seem to be confined to deciduous trees, preferably dead ones, or old stumps, and besides those already mentioned, sycamore and cottonwoods are occasionally used. Their nesting sites are rarely found at any great distance from the ground, usually ranging from 4 to 20 feet up and rarely higher.”

W. L. Dawson (1923) says: “Willow woodpeckers, in the wild, place their nests at considerable heights in deciduous trees, and those, if possible, among thick growths on moist ground. Both sexes assist in excavation, as in incubation. Partially decayed wood is selected, and an opening made about an inch and a quarter in diameter. After driving straight in for an inch or two, the passage turns down and widens two or three diameters. At the depth of a foot or so the crystal white eggs are deposited on a neat bed of fine chips. Incubation lasts twelve days, and the young are hatched some time in May.”

_Eggs._--The willow woodpecker lays three to six eggs, more commonly four or five; it may occasionally lay seven, as some of the other western races have been known to do. The eggs are typical of the species. The measurements of 40 eggs average 18.74 by 15.20 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure =22.3= by 15.7, 18.4 by =16.3=, =17.3= by 14.5, and 18.0 by =14.4= millimeters.

_Food._--Mr. Dawson (1923) writes:

It is as an orchardist that the Willow Woodpecker deserves
the most careful consideration. Bird-lovers are, perhaps
prone to superlatives in commending their friends, but
it is safe to say that a more useful bird _for his
ounces_ than the downy woodpecker does not exist. He eats
not only ants and the larvae of wood-boring beetles,
but scale insects, plant lice, and the pupae of the
detestable coddling moth. The evidence is clear that these
incomparable tree experts, together with their friends, the
nuthatches, the chickadees, and the creepers, would insure
the health of our orchards if they were numerous enough.
It becomes of the highest importance, then, to study their
welfare in turn. In the northern and more elevated valleys
of the State, it may be worth while to offer them nuts or
to hang out a bit of suet in winter. In the South no such
precautions are necessary. A fundamental consideration,
however, is the provision of suitable nesting sites.
Experiment has shown that the downy’s forage range during
the breeding season is not extensive. The clamoring young
are fed by the product of nearby trees (fed, it may be, a
thousand insects a day). Their services, therefore, must be
secured in the orchard; and to this end the orchardist must
consent to leave certain dead branches--a foot or so at the
base of the larger ones will do--for a nesting site. Dead
wood, of course, invites insects; but the most serious and
frequent mistake which our California orchardists make is
to trim out all the dead wood from the fruit trees. A pair
of Willow Woodpeckers, or of Slender-billed Nuthatches,
will clean out all the dangerous pests from a dead tree,
and sixteen live ones to boot.

Grinnell and Storer (1924) made some studies of the feeding habits of the willow woodpecker in the Yosemite region, of which they say:

A pair of Willow Woodpeckers proved to be regular tenants
of Curry’s apple orchard on the floor of the Yosemite
Valley. They, or their ancestors, had evidently worked
there for some years, with the result that most of the
150 trees in the orchard showed marks of their attention,
and many of the trunks were fairly riddled with drillings
somewhat like those of the sapsucker. * * *

However destructive this drilling may seem to be, it does
not seriously affect the vitality of the trees; the pits
are but 4 to 5 mm. deep, penetrating only those outer
layers of the bark which after a time scale off. We should
judge that all evidence of this woodpecker’s work is thus
removed through natural process within about three years.
The heartwood of the tree therefore seems not to be damaged
at all by the woodpecker’s work; it _is_ damaged, however,
by the work of the true sapsucker. Our inference from
these facts is that the willow woodpecker feeds on the
inner layers of bark, which the bird exposes through the
perforations described above. We watched a bird at work;
moreover, bits of inner bark-fibers were found adhering to
the bristles around the bill of a bird shot.

Evidently this observation and report started the same old controversy that arose in connection with the eastern bird, which has been referred to under that subspecies. Charles W. Michael intimated, in course of conversation with Dr. Grinnell, that they were mistaken in ascribing these drillings to willow woodpeckers rather than to red-breasted sapsuckers. This led to the publication, by Dr. Grinnell (1928a), of the evidence produced by Mr. Michael and himself, to which the reader is referred. In spite of some evidence, and more supposed evidence, to the contrary, it now seems to be generally conceded that the downy woodpeckers seldom, if ever, drill these holes for themselves, but that they often feed from holes drilled by sapsuckers. The small amount of drilling done by the downy woodpeckers seems to do the trees no great harm.

_Behavior._--Grinnell and Storer (1924) write:

The quietness of the willow woodpecker, as compared with
most other species in its family, is noteworthy. We heard
no single call note from it, and only at long intervals
did we hear the indescribable short trill characteristic
of this bird. Individuals are much restricted in range,
foraging along a relatively short line of cottonwoods or
willows day after day. Once a bird is located, it can
usually be found in the same place regularly. When foraging
it moves about with very little commotion, and even when
drilling for insects works so quietly that only a keen
auditor can detect its presence. No matter what the season
of the year, a pair of these birds is to be found usually
within hearing of each other. The bird’s close adherence
to deciduous trees makes it more conspicuous and easier to
observe in late fall and winter than in the summertime when
the trees are fully leaved out; but even in winter, our
experience with the willow woodpecker led us to consider
it about the most elusive of all the diurnal birds of the
Yosemite region.

We had always supposed that the rapid series of notes
uttered by this species were given only by the adult male
and hence constituted a sort of song. But on June 24, 1920,
in Yosemite Valley a juvenile male was found, with his head
out of a nest hole eight feet above the ground in a dead
branch of a live willow, giving every few moments this very
series of notes. The large _crown_ patch of red on this
bird established its age and sex clearly. There was every
indication that the notes were being given as a food call.