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Northern
Flicker
Colaptes auratus
[Published
in 1939: Smithsonian Institution United States National Museum
Bulletin 174: 264-287]
I can remember as clearly as if it were only yesterday my
boyish, enthusiastic admiration for this beautiful bird, though it
was between 50 or 60 years ago that my father first showed me a
freshly killed flicker. I was simply entranced with the softly
blended browns, the red crescent on the head, the black crescent
and bold spotting on the breast, and, above all, with the golden
glow in the wings and tail. Few birds combine such charming colors
and pleasing contrasts. I have never lost my admiration for it,
and still consider it one of nature's gems.
It, and its close relative, the red-shafted flicker, together
are widely distributed over nearly all the wooded regions of North
America. Consequently it is widely known and over most of its
range is a common and familiar species. Its prominence and
popularity are attested by the long list of vernacular names by
which it is locally know. Franklin L. Burns (1900), in his
monograph of the species, lists 123 such names; and later he adds
nine more, bringing the list up to 132 names. These are far too
many to be quoted here, and many of them are "very local or
very slight orthographical or cacographical variants." I have
always loved our local name "partridge woodpecker,"
suggestive of my boyhood days, when flickers, meadowlarks, and
robins were considered legitimate game. But now the name
yellow-shafted flicker seems appropriate to distinguish it from
the red-shafted flicker.
The haunts of the flicker are almost everywhere in open country
or lightly wooded regions; it can hardly be called a forest-loving
species, though I have often found it nesting in more or less
extensive deciduous woods; its favorite haunts during the summer
seem to be in the rural districts among the farms, orchards, and
scattered woodlots; it seems to be at home, also, in villages and
small towns, and even in some of the smaller cities, where
spacious grounds and gardens provide suitable surroundings. In
fall and winter it is more apt to wander about in open woodlands,
fields, and meadows or seek shelter in coniferous woods or swamps.
Spring.--Although many flickers
remain all winter in the northern states, there is a decided
spring migration of the great bulk of northern-bred birds that
have wintered in the southern states. These birds gather in flocks
during the late winter, and the northward movement starts with the
first mild weather, the migration being largely performed during
the night. Mr. Burns (1900) says that at Berwyn, Pa., the
forerunners, consisting of solitary old males, appear "as
early as Feb. 2 or as late as April 6, according to the promises
of the season, correlating in a measure with the date at which the
first frog is heard peeping. . . .
"It becomes common soon after the hardy willow has
unfolded its leaves, and about the time the fragrant spicewood
blossoms, when the ants, spiders and beetles become active once
more, and just in the height of the arbutus season. The northward
movement is far from being steady or regular, being largely
governed by weather conditions." Mr. Burns calculates from
his mass of data that the average distance traveled daily is about
12 miles, "varying according to season and weather conditions
from 7 to 48 miles per night. It is absolutely certain that it
does not move steadily night after night, but only as the weather
permits or necessitates and its physical condition allows."
Flickers often migrate in companies of considerable size, in
loose, scattered flocks, noisy and active, flying from tree to
tree and calling excitedly. Their arrival is announced by the loud
challenge call, given from the top of some tall tree, wicker,
wicker, wicker, or wake-up, wake-up, wake-up, as the
male challenges his rivals or invites his prospective mate to join
him in courtship. This, one of the most welcome sounds of early
spring, is indeed a call to "wake up," for all nature is
awakening, buds are swelling on the trees, verdure is appearing in
the woods and fields, the early flowers are beginning to blossom,
the hylas are peeping in the warming pools, insects are becoming
active, and the songs of the early birds announce that spring is
here. Another spring sound soon strikes our ears, a loud,
far-reaching, vibrant sound, the long, almost continuous roll of
the flicker's drumming, another challenge call, a preliminary of
the courtship performance; at frequent intervals, often repeated
over a long period in early morning, he beats his loud tattoo on
some hollow, resonant limb.
Courtship.--The courtship of the
flicker is a lively and spectacular performance, noisy, full of
action, and often ludicrous, as three or more birds of both sexes
indulge in their comical dancing, nodding, bowing, and swaying
motions, or chase each other around the trunk or through the
branches of a tree. From the time of Audubon to the present day,
many observers have noted and described the curious antics of this
star performer. But I prefer to quote first from some extensive
notes recently contributed by Francis H. Allen, as follows:
"The courtship of the flicker is an elaborate and somewhat
puzzling performance. Two birds face each other on the branch of a
tree or cling side by side, though at a little distance apart, on
the trunk, and spread their tails and jerk their heads about in a
sort of weaving motion, frequently uttering a note that is
peculiar to this performance, a wick-up or week-up.
The head motion is a series of backward jerks with the bill
pointing up at an angle of perhaps 60 degrees and the head at the
same time swinging from side to side. Sometimes a short, low wuck
is uttered from time to time during the performance. These bouts
occur not only between male and female, but frequently between two
males or two females.
"In April 1934, for more than a week I saw a trio of
flickers about my house. Invariably the two females went through
courtship antics together, while the male fed on the ground
nearby, apparently completely indifferent to them. One of the
females was much more active than the other, which usually kept a
stiff pose with head drawn in, only occasionally responding with
feeble head-waggings. At no time did the active female use any
other display than the head-wagging, and there was never any
suggestion of combat or intimidation.
"A year later, 1935, the flickers near my house behaved
differently. In the afternoon of April 24, the two males were
singing loudly and frequently in the woods, about an eighth of a
mile away and at some distance apart. By singing I mean, of
course, the prolonged laughing call of wick-wick-wick, etc.
Presently they stopped singing, and one flew toward the other,
stopping about halfway. Very soon the other joined him, and a long
period of posturing and wick-up-ing ensued. Both birds had
the black mustaches of the male. The posturing was the regular
'weaving' of the head and the fanning of the tail. The notes,
after the first at least, were much subdued in tone. There were
frequent intervals of quiet. The birds kept close together most of
the time, often with heads only two or three inches apart, or
perhaps less. They flitted about frequently, sometimes clinging to
the trunk of an oak, sometimes perched on a horizontal branch, and
once or twice they alighted on the stems of underbrush. After a
long period of posturing, they met in a momentary tilt, and
presently there was another clash after more posturing, then a
third clash, and after that they separated. The same bird was the
aggressor in at least two of the clashes. As often in such
encounters, the attacked bird stood his ground and the attacker
veered off. It was very mild warfare, if it was really serious at
all.
"Two days after the bout of the two males, I saw two
females engaged in the dance in one of our pear trees. It lasted
only a few minutes, and I heard no notes. Not long after the dance
of the two females a prolonged 'sexual flight' took place. It
lasted five or ten minutes, as nearly as I could tell, with a few
short intervals of resting. I could at no time determine the sexes
of the two birds thus engaged, but occasionally a snatch of faint
song was heard (wick-wick-wick), and I assume that they
were male and female. They flew rather slowly and kept only a few
feet apart. It was evident that the spacing was intentional and
that the pursuer made no attempt to catch up with the other. The
flight covered a territory of several acres. It was a graceful and
interesting performance.
"I supposed at the time that this sexual flight indicated
that the affair was completed, but later that afternoon I several
times saw a male and two females together, the females posturing
and wick-up-ing, the male motionless. The females showed no
enmity toward each other and did not face each other, as the males
of two days before did. They kept rather farther apart. At one
time a second male appeared and stayed about for a time, but he
disappeared, apparently without becoming a serious factor in the
situation.
"Three days later a pair of flickers, male and female,
were feeding peacefully together on the lawn in the morning and in
the afternoon, and I judged that the marital arrangements of at
least two of my flickers had been completed."
More active courtship on the part of a female flicker is thus
described in some notes from Lewis O. Shelley: "On April 24,
coincident with a male flicker's message from an elm stub, a
female and a second male appeared. All three were later in the
cherry tree by our garden, perched on branches some three feet
apart. The female took the initiative in the following activities
and, perched crosswise of the branch, often bobbed and ducked up
and down, then crosswise of the branch jerked to left, right,
left, right, head cocked erect and with tail fully spread. At
times the males, less actively, did likewise, but for the most
part perched noncommittally, silent and still, giving but few
calls. At one time, after the female had displayed intermittently
several times, and when the males had been still for some five
minutes, she sidled up to the nearest male and again displayed
with much wing-fluttering and tail-spreading and sidewise
twitchings; then the same to the other male who flew when her
actions of bobbing and bowing face to face commenced. Not to be
outdone, or so affronted, she flew after him, then the second male
followed."
C. W. Leister (1919) noticed an aerial courtship evolution of
the flicker, of which he says: "When first noticed, he was
about fifty feet from the ground and ascending in peculiar, bumpy,
and jerky spirals. This was maintained until a height of about 350
- 400 feet was reached, when, after a short pause, a reverse of
practically the same performance was gone through. The Flicker,
for such as he was identified by this time, then alighted in a
cherry tree, just above a female that we had previously failed to
notice, and completed the performance by going through his more
familiar courting antics."
A recrudescence of the amatory instinct is sometimes seen in
fall. On September 22, 1933, a clear, warm morning, a pair of
flickers, male and female, were watched for some time as they
performed their courtship dance on the top of one of my chimneys,
where there might have been some warmth remaining from a fire that
had since died out. They danced around on all four sides of the
chimney, always facing each other, both of them bowing and swaying
the head and neck, or whole body, from side to side, with the neck
extended and the bill pointing almost straight upward. Sometimes
they stopped for a few seconds, holding the upright posture, or
one performed while the other posed. There was no wing or tail
display that I could see. Lewis O. Shelley tells me that he has
seen flickers in courtship display while the young were just
leaving the nest.
Nesting.--Soon after mating is
accomplished the choice for a nesting site is made, and often the
selection is made during courtship, especially if a nesting cavity
of the previous year is to be used. Probably the female usually
makes the final decision, though there is some evidence to
indicate that in many cases the male selects the site and
persuades his mate to accept it.
Miss Althea R. Sherman (1910) made some very thorough studies
of the nesting habits of the northern flicker at National, Iowa,
in some boxes so arranged on her barn that she could observe the
home life of the birds at close range. The male and the female had
been occupying two different boxes as roosting places, and the
eggs were laid in the box occupied by the male, from which it
became evident "that the male bird chose the nesting place,
and persuaded his mate to lay her eggs there, even when she was
inclined to nest elsewhere, and when she had a box quite as good
as his."
Often the male "stakes out his claim," so to speak,
in the vicinity of an old nest, where, during the courtship
period, he utters his loud mating call for several days, or even
weeks, before the female answers the invitation. Then, after
mating is accomplished, his chosen mate may or may not accept his
choice of a nesting site. The desirability of the nesting site may
in such cases influence the female's choice of a mate, for she is
as much interested in having a comfortable and safe home as in
choosing a handsome husband.
Having chosen the site, the pair set about repairing the old
cavity or excavating a new one, at which both birds work
diligently for anywhere from a week to three weeks, depending on
the conditions they find. Mr. Shelley tells me that, in his
experience with several nests, the nesting cavity is completed
from a week to a fortnight before the eggs are laid. The chips are
usually, but not always, carried away to some distance from the
nest tree, but often chips are merely scattered about the base of
the tree. William Brewster (1936) gives the following account of
rather peculiar behavior of a flicker while excavating its nest:
Found a Flicker at work excavating a hole in an apple tree
in Bensen's orchard. I was passing the tree within six feet when I
heard a low tapping, accompanied by a continuous muffled whining
sound. Turning, I at once saw the bird's tail projecting from the
hole, which was not over five feet above the ground. For a minute
or more the pecking and whining continued uninterruptedly, the
tail wriggling violently the while. Evidently the bird had carved
in the hole to just that point where she had less room to work
than she had had before or would have afterwards. In other words,
she had just about reached the point where the entrance hole must
begin to be expanded into a chamber and to turn downward. It
seemed to me that the whining sound expressed rage or impatience.
Perhaps it was the Flicker's form of swearing!
The northern flicker seems to show no very decided preference
for any one species of tree in its choice of a nesting site,
though I believe it does prefer a dead tree, or a dead stub on a
living tree, or a tree that has a soft or partially decayed heart.
It has always seemed to me that in New England we find more nests
in large apple trees in old orchards than elsewhere, the nest
being excavated in the main trunk, or large upright branch, at no
great height from the ground. Such trees may have a hard outer
shell, but the interior is often more or less soft. Old orchards
are becoming scarce in my vicinity, which forces the flickers to
look elsewhere. Next in importance here as a common nesting site
is the trunk or stub of a dead white pine tree. Mr. Burns (1900)
mentions one dead pine "perforated with 25 or 30 holes, most
of which were in use at one time or another." He lists, as
favorite trees in the middle and eastern states, "apple,
sycamore, oak, butternut, cherry, elm, chestnut, maple, poplar,
beech, ash, pine, hickory, etc." In Pennsylvania, he says
that J. Warren Jacobs has "found the sycamore to be the
favorite, with the apple and maple second, the beech and locust
third, oak and cherry fourth, and all other varieties fifth."
Mr. Burns continues: "From Ohio westward the apple orchard
is a favorite with the poplar, willow, maple, oak, elm, walnut,
cottonwood, etc., more or less resorted to, according to
availability. It very seldom nests in a living coniferous tree,
though it has been known to nest in a living red cedar and in dead
hemlocks and spruces."
Telegraph, telephone, and other tall poles, as well as
fenceposts, are favorite nesting sites in the prairie regions and
other parts of the West, where trees are scarce. Frank L. Farley
writes to me that in the timbered country of northern Alberta,
"where there are many suitable nesting trees and stubs, the
telephone and telegraph poles are frequently used for nesting.
These poles are usually cedar and it is assumed that the birds
prefer these for nesting because of the ease with which they can
excavate."
Flickers quite often nest in boxes erected for that purpose and
in buildings, much to the annoyance of the owners. I have
frequently seen nests in icehouses; these have double walls, the
intervening space being filled with sawdust; the birds drill
through the outer walls and make their nests in the sawdust. The
cornices and walls of many buildings on the farms, as well as the
towers of churches and schoolhouses, are perforated, and the eggs
laid on the beams or boarding within. Mr. Burns (1900) records the
following interesting case:
Mr. Burke H. Sinclair found a nest containing eggs in the
garret of the town high school. The birds obtained entrance to
this large three-story brick building by means of a displaced
brick. As in all infloored lofts it consists of nothing but the
parallel rafters, with attached lath and plaster, which forms the
ceiling of the room below. This frail floor is about ten inches
below the entrance hole, and the nest was situated about one foot
from and directly in front of the entrance. The place had
evidently been used for several years, there being at least a peck
of wood chippings, some fresh, but a large quantity old and
discolored with age. The nest was placed between two of the
paralleled rafters and composed of these chippings, being about
six inches thick by eighteen inches in diameter. This material had
been all cut from the rafters on the floor and the roof overhead.
A number of other unusual nesting sites have been recorded. F.
A. E. Starr tells me of a nest that "was in an old stump two
feet high; the six eggs were on a bed of rotten wood at ground
level." Dr. Jonathan Dwight, Jr. (1893) reports a nest that
he found on Prince Edward Island; the "nest with fully
fledged young was examined in the top of a hollow fence post. No
excavation had been made by the bird, and the young were entirely
exposed to the weather." Flickers occasionally nest in
natural cavities in trees, where no excavation is needed beyond
enlarging the opening, if necessary, or cleaning out the interior.
Ned Hollister (1918) reports that a pair of flickers and a pair of
house wrens nested in holes in an old stump in a lion's cage in
the National Zoological Park in Washington. Mr. Burns (1900)
writes: "It has been found breeding far out on the prairie in
an old wagon hub, surrounded by weeds; also in barrels, and one
instance of an excavation of the regulation size in a haystack is
on record; another nested in a crevice of an unused chimney for
several years; and stranger yet it has been found more than once
occupying Kingfisher's and enlarged Bank Swallow's burrows."
The haystack nest is reported by Major Bendire (1895), on the
authority of William A. Bryant, of New Sharon, Iowa, as follows:
On a small hill, a quarter of a mile distant from my home,
stood a haystack which had been placed there two years previously.
The owner, during the winter of 1889-90, had cut the stack through
the middle and hauled away one portion, leaving the other standing
with the end smoothly trimmed. The following spring I noticed a
pair of yellow-shafted flickers about the stack showing signs of
wanting to make it a fixed habitation. One morning a few days
later I was amused at the efforts of one of the pair. It was
clinging to the perpendicular end of the stack and throwing out
chipped hay at a rate to defy competition. This work continued for
nearly a week, and in that time the pair had excavated a cavity 20
inches in depth. The entrance was located 8 1/2 feet above ground,
and was 2 1/2 inches in diameter and dug back into the stack for 6
inches, where it turned sharply downward and was slightly enlarged
at the bottom. On May 28 I took a handsome set of seven eggs from
the nest, the eggs lying on a bed of chipped hay. The birds
lingered about the stack and by June 14 had deposited another set
of eggs. . . . I never could quite understand the philosophy of
their peculiar choice of this site, as woodland is abundant here.
A well-timbered creek bottom was less than half a mile distant,
while large orchards and groves surround the place on every hand.
Kumlien and Hollister (1903) and J. A. Farley (1901) record
instances of flickers nesting on hay; in each case the birds bored
a hole through the walls of a barn and laid their eggs in a hollow
in a pile of hay near the entrance hole. William Brewster (1909)
published an account of a flicker's nest on the open ground, found
by some ladies on Cape Cod and seen by him. Beside a sandy road,
"fully a quarter of a mile from the nearest house and
bordered on both sides by dense woods of pitch pines, the ladies
found five eggs of the Flicker lying together on a hollow in the
ground within a few feet of the deeply rutted wagon track."
The nest "was a circular, saucer-shaped depression, measuring
21 1/4 inches across the top, by 3 inches in depth. Dry yellowish
sand mixed with fine gravel and wholly free from vegetation of any
kind, living or dead, formed its bottom and the gently sloping
sides, as well as the surface of the level ground about it for two
or three yards in every direction, but a little further back there
were weeds and grasses growing sparingly, in a slightly richer
soil." Photographs of the two nests similarly located may be
seen in Bird-Lore, volume 18, page 399, and volume 36, page 105.
Mr. Burns's data show that the height of the nest from the
ground varies in middle and eastern states from 2 to 60 feet, and
in central western states from ground level to 90 feet. His
accumulated data on the measurements of nesting cavities show that
the depth of the excavation is "greatest in New York and New
England (10 to 36 inches), Illinois (14 to 24 inches),
Pennsylvania (10 to 18 inches), and Minnesota (9 to 18
inches)." Probably the depth of the cavity depends on the
quality of the wood and the age of the nest; when an old cavity is
used, it is usually deepened somewhat. Dr. H. C. Oberholser (1896)
gives the measurements of four Ohio nests; the total depth varied
from 7 to 18 inches; the diameter of the entrance varied from 2.00
by 2.00 to 4.00 by 4.00 and averaged 2.94 by 2.72 inches. Mr.
Burns (1900) says the diameter of the cavity near the bottom
varies from 4.50 to 10.00, and averages 7.67 inches. No nesting
material is taken in from outside, but enough fine chips are left
in the bottom of the hole to make a soft bed, in which the eggs
are partially buried. Carl W. Buchheister tells me that he once
found a nest "the bottom of which was 6 inches below the
ground level and 12 inches below the opening, a round hole which
was 6 inches above the ground. There was but one egg."
Eggs.--The flicker is notorious as a
prolific egg layer, but under ordinary circumstances, when not
disturbed, the average set consists of six to eight eggs.
Incubated sets of as few as three or four have been found, sets of
nine and ten are not very rare, and as many as 17 have been found
in a nest at one time; the large numbers may be products of two
females. Mr. Burns (1900) records the contents of 169 sets of the
northern flicker as 11 sets of four, 16 sets of five, 35 sets of
six, 34 sets of seven, 38 sets of eight, 17 sets of nine, 13 sets
of ten, 3 sets of twelve, and one each of thirteen and fourteen.
Major Bendire (1895) states that Steward Ogilby, of Staten Island,
N.Y., reports "finding a brood of not less than nineteen
young Flickers in one nest, all alive and apparently in good
condition."
If robbed of its eggs, the flicker will continue to lay new
sets for a long time. Dr. Barton W. Evermann (1889) "obtained
thirty-seven eggs in forty-nine days from a 'yellowhammer' which
had its nest near my house. The eggs were in seven sets, five,
five, five, six, seven, four, and five eggs respectively." J.
Parker Norris (1888) took five sets of six eggs each from a nest
in Pennsylvania between May 16 and June 18. Several other similar
cases of persistent laying have been reported, all of which
indicate that an egg is laid each day and that the birds begin at
once to replace the lost set. Mr. Burns (1900) lists a number of
such cases, where no nest egg was left to induce the bird to keep
on laying; the largest number reported was 48 eggs in 65 days. My
neighbor, Charles L. Phillips, tried the experiment of taking one
egg each day, leaving one as a nest egg; he holds the
extraordinary record of having taken 71 eggs from one nest in 73
days; the poor bird rested only two days in the long strain of
over two months.
Eggs of the flicker have sometimes been found in the nests of
other birds. In an old orchard, not far from my home, I once found
a flicker's egg in a bluebird's nest, with five eggs of the
latter; and in another cavity in the same tree was a tree
swallow's nest containing five eggs of the swallow and an egg of
the flicker. As this was in a remote locality, it is hardly likely
that the eggs were placed there artificially, and the chances are
that the flicker's nest had been destroyed and she was forced to
lay in the nearest available cavity. Mr. Burns (1900) says:
"A similar instance is recorded by E. G. Elliot, Bradford,
Mass., May 16th, '84, of a set of five eggs of bluebird and one of
flicker, nest of grass and feathers. Records of European house
sparrow and red-headed woodpecker eggs in freshly excavated
quarters with one or more eggs of the Flicker are not uncommon,
and upon investigation the latter proved to be the aggrieved party
in every instance." He also tells of a flicker that laid an
egg in a mourning dove's nest.
The eggs of the flicker are pure lustrous white, with a
brilliant gloss; the shell is translucent, and, when fresh, the
yolk shows through it, suffusing the egg with a delicate pinkish
glow, which is very beautiful.
The shape is quite variable, but the majority are ovate; some
are short-ovate or elliptical-ovate, some nearly oval, and some
rarely somewhat pointed. The measurements of 57 eggs average 26.85
by 20.58 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure 30.48
by 22.86, 28.19 by 24.38, 24.45 by 21.34, and 27.68
by 19.05 millimeters.
Young.--The period of incubation
of the flicker has been said to be from 14 to 16 days. Miss
Sherman's (1910) careful observations on marked eggs, laid on
known dates, indicate a shorter period. From some former nests she
had learned "that sometimes the eggs hatched in nine days,
but more frequently in ten days after the laying of the last
egg." In these cases, incubation may have begun before the
set was complete, or the eggs may have received some heat from the
body of the male, for she said that, in at least one case,
"while the eggs were being laid, and before incubation began
the male roosted in the box with the eggs." According to a
later observation, "the exact time for incubation had been
twelve days, three hours and fifty-two minutes. The seventh egg
hatched four hours later making its period of incubation eleven
days and eight hours nearly." After another similar
experience with the hatching of nine marked eggs, which extended
over a period from 5:40 a.m. one day until 10:48 a.m. the next
day, she says: "Roughly speaking, then, the time that our
Flickers take for incubation is from eleven to twelve days."
Her observations showed that the duties of incubation are
shared by both sexes, that the male usually incubates during the
night, but "by day the duties of incubation seem to be shared
about equally between the two birds, who are close sitters, the
eggs seldom being found alone. Of the length of the sittings no
adequate record has been kept, but those lasting from one hour and
a half to two hours have been noted."
Miss Sherman (1910) noted that "the usual time for
depositing the eggs in the nest appears to be the hour between
five and six o'clock in the morning," though in one case an
egg was laid between 11 a.m. and 4 p.m.
Some of her observations on the young follow:
Until the young are about eleven days old, they lie in a
circle in the nest, their long necks stretched over each other,
then for nearly a week they press against the side of the nest. At
seventeen or eighteen days of age, their claws having acquired a
needlelike sharpness, they begin to cling to the wall of the nest,
and when three weeks old they are able to climb to the hole and be
fed while the parent hangs outside.
Although the eyes of the nestlings are not open until they
are ten days old, yet these organs are by no means dormant. An
easy proof of this is made by placing the hand noiselessly over
the entrance hole when they are no more than three or four days
old, and are lying apparently asleep; up comes every head and they
beg for food, getting none they soon sleep, when the experiment
may be repeated, gaining from the young the same response that is
given when a parent darkens the hole.
That cry of the young which is so often described as a
hissing sound, begins very soon after they are hatched. At first
exceedingly faint it soon grows stronger, and is uttered day and
night for two weeks. A parent upon taking its place to brood these
wailing nestlings begins to croon a lullaby and continues this
musical murmur until it falls asleep, which is often quite soon.
It has no effect in lessening the noise of the youngsters, yet the
parent faithfully renders its cradle song until the young cease to
make this noise which is about the time they begin to show fear.
Of other cries that they make, there is the chuckling noise
uttered when the little one is in the act of seizing the
food-bearing bill, and there is a cry that sounds like a whine.
Still another one is a note of alarm given when the young are
disturbed by some such thing as the opening of the trap door. This
uttered in unison has a very theatrical effect strongly suggesting
the chorus of the stage. After they have commenced to move about
freely in the nest they make much of the time a pleasant sound
like a chatter or quack, as if talking to each other. And lastly
comes the grown-up Flicker "pe-ap," which they begin to
call as soon as they climb to the hole. . . .
Some broods are much more quarrelsome than others. Their
battle ground is in the vicinity of the hole. The one in
possession of the hole maintains his supremacy there by occasional
withdrawals of his head from the hole in order to deliver vigorous
blows on the heads of all within his reach. This is the case with
the stronger ones, the weaker ones frequently are driven from the
vantage place. When the hole is large enough for two to thrust out
their heads together, they draw within after the the serving of a
meal and fight furiously, while a waiting third may slip up and
gain the coveted hole. But all their fighting days seem to be
confined to a few in the fourth week of their lives. . . . In very
early life a meal is served to baby Flicker with many insertions
of the parent's bill, as many as thirty-four have been counted,
but from eight to twenty are the ordinary number, decreasing to
three or four before the young leave the nest. A record made
during a continuous watch of six hours and thirty-two minutes
shows that each parent fed five times; that the father delivered
his supply with eighty-two insertions of the bill, while the
mother used but forty-one. Probably the father brought more food
since on every count he proved himself the more devoted parent. In
grasping the bill the point of the youngster's bill is at right
angles with that of the parent's, thus the opening between the
food-bearing mandibles is covered after the young have attained a
few days of age, and any over-dropping of food is prevented. This
accident frequently happens in the early days of the nest, then
the mussed up ants that fall are carefully picked up by the frugal
parent when the feeding is over. . . .
Experiments show that to a nestling weighing 743 grains was
given a breakfast that weighted 76 grains, to one weighing 1,430
grains a dinner of 118 grains, and to another that tipped the
scales at 1530 grains a supper of 103 grains. Probably the weight
of the average load is not far from one hundred grains. . . .
When the young were eighteen days old during a watch of four
and one-half hours twenty-five meals were given to five nestlings
that wore distinguished marks. Three of these are positively known
to have received five meals apiece, and two received four apiece.
. . . At this age the young Flickers every hour partake of food to
the amount of one-sixteenth of their own weight, or in one day
consume their full weight of food.
She says that flickers are very solicitous to keep a clean
nest; for the first nine or ten days the parents eat the
excrements, but after that the dejecta are carried out in the
tough white sacks in which they are enclosed. If no sacks of
excrement are found in the nest after feeding, the parent solicits
them; "this is done by biting the heel joints sometimes, but
more often the fleshy protuberance that bears that budding promise
of the tail."
She says that the male "staid with the young every night
until they were three weeks old, brooding all of them until nearly
two weeks of age, when they began pressing their breasts against
the side of the nest, and he could cover the tails of two or three
only, after which for two or three nights he sat upon the bottom
of the nest apart from the young; then for four nights he hung
upon the wall of the nest near the hole; thereafter he staid with
them no more."
Her records show that the young remained in the nest nearly or
quite four weeks, or from 25 to 28 days. During the last three or
four days nearly all of them lost weight; this may have been due
to the period of the heaviest feather growth, or because the
parents may have let up on the feeding to induce the young to
leave the nest. Miss Sherman's statements, as to the period of
incubation and the length of time that the young remain in the
nest, are quite at variance with statements made by others, but
her observations were so carefully and thoroughly made under such
favorable circumstances that they are more convincing than less
accurate observations of others.
Some others have also described the method of feeding the young
by regurgitation in a manner that differs from that observed by
Miss Sherman. Mr. Brewster (1936), for example, says:
Standing on the edge of the hole, the parent would select
one--usually the nearest, I thought--and bending down would drive
his bill to its base into the gaping mouth which instantly closed
tightly around it, when the head and bill of the parent was worked
up and down with great rapidity for from one to one and one-half
seconds (timed with a stop watch), the young meanwhile holding on
desperately and apparently never once losing its grasp, although
its poor little head was jerked up and down violently. The first,
or entering downward thrust of the parent's bill looked like a
vicious stab, the bird apparently striking with all its force as
if with the design of piercing his offspring to the vitals. The
subsequent up and down motion was invariably rapid and regular and
resembled the bill movement of a woodpecker while
"drumming." It also suggested the stroke of a piston.
In this case the top of the stump had been broken off, leaving
the nest open and exposed, so that every motion could be clearly
seen from a distance of not over 15 feet. After the young had left
the nest, he discovered that "the nest was left in a terribly
foul state, the bottom being a disgusting mass of muddy excrement
alive with wriggling worms. . . . These young, however, managed to
keep very clean and all, so far as I could discover, were
perfectly free from vermin." Apparently the old birds find it
difficult to clean the nest after the young reach a certain size.
W. I. Lyon (1922) tells an interesting story of a screech owl
that adopted and brooded a family of young flickers, after its own
nest in the same tree had been broken up twice; the owl even
brought in part of a small bird, perhaps intending to feed it to
the young flickers, which were all the time being fed by their
parents and were successfully raised.
Plumages.--Miss Sherman (1910)
gives a very good description of the naked and blind nestling, as
follows: "The pellucid color of the newly hatched Flicker
resembles that of freshly sun-burned human skin, but so
translucent is the nestling's skin that immediately after feeding
one can see the line of ants that stretches down the bird's throat
and remains in view two or three minutes before passing onward.
This may be witnessed for several days while the skin assumes a
coarser red, until it begins to thicken and become a bluish hue,
before the appearance of the pin-feathers. These may be detected
under the skin on the fifth day at the same time that bristle-like
projections about one-sixteenth of an inch long announce the
coming of the rectrices and remiges."
Mr. Burns (1900) says: "It is not known when the white
membranous process which extends from either side of the base of
the lower mandible disappears, but it probably goes at a very
early age. This formation is apparently peculiar to all young
woodpeckers, as suggested by Frank A. Bates, in the Ornithologist
and Oologist, Vol. XVI, p.35, but its use is unknown." A
photograph, published by E. H. Forbush (1927), shows that this
does not wholly disappear until the young bird is nearly fledged;
its function is probably to help guide the regurgitated food from
the mouth of the adult into the throat of the young bird during
the feeding method noted by Miss Sherman (1910).
The young flicker is fully fledged in its juvenal plumage when
it leaves the nest; and, contrary to the rule among birds, this
plumage more nearly resembles the plumage of the adult male than
that of the old female, as the young of both sexes have the black
malar patches. The black bands on the upper parts are much
broader, the vinaceous portions of the head and neck are more
tinged with gray, the malar patches are duller black, and the
lower parts are paler with duller and larger black spots than in
the adult. The crown is usually more or less suffused with dull
red, especially in young males, and sometimes the red nuchal
crescent is somewhat wider or more extensive; the crescent on the
breast is usually smaller; the yellow on the under sides of the
wings and tail is duller and more greenish; the black tips in the
tail are duller and not so sharply defined against the yellow; and
the upper tail coverts are black with white spots, instead of
being white and boldly barred with black, as in the adult. The
plumage is soft and loose in texture and the bill is small and
weak.
This plumage is worn but a short time, as a complete molt
begins in July and is usually finished in September or October,
producing a first winter plumage that is practically adult. Adults
have a complete postnuptial molt at about the same time of year. A
detailed account of the progress of the molt of young birds is
given by William Palmer (1901) and one of the adults by Burns
(1900); both accounts are too long to be quoted here. Fall adults
in fresh plumage are very handsome birds, more deeply and richly
colored than spring birds; the upper parts are deeper brown and
the lower parts are suffused with yellowish buff; wear and fading
produce a more contrasted plumage in the spring in which the dark
markings are less obscured and the soft suffusion has disappeared.
***
Food.--The flicker is more
terrestrial in its feeding habits than any of our other
woodpeckers. It is a common sight to see one of them hopping about
on a lawn, or in an open place in the woods and fields, probing in
the ground for ants or picking up ground insects or fallen
berries. It is one of our most useful birds, worthy of the fullest
protection. Professor Beal (1911) has shown that 60.92 percent of
its food consists of animal matter and 39.08 percent of vegetable
matter. About 75 percent of the animal food, or 45 percent of the
entire food, consists of ants. The flicker eats more ants than any
other bird; ants were found in 524 of the 684 stomachs examined,
and 98 stomachs contained no other food; one stomach contained
over 5,000 ants, and two others held over 3,000 each. If it had no
other beneficial habit, the flicker would deserve protection for
the good it does in keeping in check these injurious and annoying
insects. Ants protect plant lice of various species, which may
become very injurious to many kinds of cultivated plants,
inflicting serious losses for the agricultural interests; the
plant lice, or aphids, secrete a sweet honey-dew juice, of which
the ants are very fond; consequently these tiny insects are herded
by the ants and milked like cows. The ants take good care of their
honey-producing "cattle," driving them away from
ladybugs and other enemies, leading them to new pastures, if the
old ones dry up, sheltering the aphid eggs in their nests, and
carrying the young aphids out onto the plants to feed. Mr. Forbush
(1927) also says: "Ants riddle posts set in the ground or any
timber or lumber resting upon or in contact with the ground. They
destroy the sills of buildings set close to the ground and often
ruin living trees, especially such as have a few dead roots. They
infest lawns and buildings, destroying grass on the lawns and food
in the house, and are difficult to eradicate. They sometimes eat
alive the young of certain ground-nesting birds. They are very
prolific and require a severe check on their numbers. Otherwise
they would become unbearable pests."
The flicker explores the ground, often scratching away leaves
or rubbish, to locate the ant nests, digs into the nest with its
long bill, and, as the ants come pouring out, it laps them up in
quantities or inserts its long, sticky tongue deep down into the
nest to get the young and eggs. Early in spring it digs into the
large mounds of the mound-building ants, while the ants are less
active, or tears open some rotten stump to uncover a nest. Only a
few days ago, I dug into an old apple-tree stump for some rotten
wood to put on some of my wildflowers and uncovered a large nest
of ants; within a very few minutes my pair of flickers were on the
job cleaning up the ants and their pupae.
Other insect food of the flicker includes a variety of beetles,
wasps, grasshoppers, crickets, mole crickets, chinch bugs, wood
lice, caterpillars, grubs, and various flying insects, which it
sometimes catches on the wing, darting after them like a
flycatcher (Burns, 1900).
According to Beal (1911), 39.08 percent of its food is
vegetable matter. Most of this consists of wild fruits and
berries, such as the berries of the dogwood (Cornus) and
Virginia creeper, hackberries, blueberries, huckleberries,
pokeberries, serviceberries (Amelanchier), elderberries,
barberries, mulberries, blackberries, wild grapes, wild black
cherries, choke cherries, cultivated cherries, and the berries of
the black alder, sour gum, black gum, greenbrier (Smilax),
spicebush (Benzoin), red cedar, hawthorn, mountain ash, and
woodbine. Harold H. Bailey (1913) says that while the fall
migration is at its height in Virginia, about October first,
"they are particularly fond of the blue berry of the
black-gum tree, and after once finding a tree with fruit, will
continue to come to it until every berry is gone, even though
continually shot at. I remember a case a few years back, when a
local gunner killed fifty-seven flickers from one black-gum tree
in one forenoon. After the gumberries are gone, they take to the
dogwood berry for their main article of food, a fine red berry and
always plentiful in Tidewater."
The flicker feeds freely on the seeds of the poison ivy and
poison sumac and perhaps does some harm in distributing the seeds
of these noxious plants. Professor Beal (1895) also includes the
seeds of other sumacs, clover, grasses, pigweed, mullein, ragweed,
and other unidentified seeds, and the seeds of the magnolia and
knotweed. Mr. Burns (1900) adds wild strawberries, dewberries,
raspberries, and wild plums, also acorns, beechnuts, corn from
shocks, and oats, wheat, and rye from stacks.
The birds that Miss Sherman (1910) watched in their nesting box
ate considerable sawdust. "That at one time the male ate
three tablespoonfuls is deemed a modest estimate. An attempt to
measure the amount both ate by a fresh supply daily showed the
consumption of three or more handfuls. The sawdust came from sugar
maple, white and red oak wood." She seemed to think that
flickers have "little use for water," having seen them
drink only twice, during many hours of watching from a blind,
"all of which taken together would amount to weeks."
Owen Durfee speaks in his notes of having seen three flickers
drinking, or eating, snow on a cold day in winter; he saw one drop
down onto a patch of snow on a stone wall and begin eating the
snow. "His motions were just like a chicken drinking
water--the partly closed bill was dipped into the snow and then
held up in the air and the mandibles worked as though chewing or
dissolving it, when another dip would be made. Soon two other
flickers flew down in the same manner and secured some snow water.
On approaching, I found the footprints and several little round
holes somewhat smaller than a pencil."
I have often seen them drinking water and so have other
observers; perhaps they drink copiously but not often.
Francis H. Allen says in his notes: "I have seen one
feeding in the manner of a chickadee among the twigs of a tree,
perching crosswise of the twig and flitting about actively,
gleaning some minute food. Mr. Brewster told me that he had seen a
flicker feeding this way."
Joseph J. Hickey tells me that he has seen a flicker feeding
after the manner of an Arctic three-toed woodpecker, deliberately
scaling off the bark in search of food; this bird had denuded
about half the bark of a hemlock.
Behavior.--In ordinary short
flights, the flicker proclaims its relationship to the other
woodpeckers by its rhythmic bounding flight, the wings beating
more rapidly on the rises and much less so on the dips, which are
usually followed by a short sail on motionless wings. Mr. Burns
(1900) noted that the dips occur about every 15 or 20 feet and
that the bird drops about 3 feet on each dip. On more prolonged
flights the flight is steadier, more direct, strong, and fairly
swift. It does not ordinarily fly at any great height, except when
migrating. When alighting on a tree trunk, there is a graceful
upward glide, the trunk is grasped with the feet, and the tail is
used as a prop in true woodpecker fashion; but the flicker is more
apt to alight on a horizontal branch than other woodpeckers, when
there is less upward glide and an upright posture is assumed, as
balance is acquired.
On the ground, the flicker proceeds slowly by short hops, but
sometimes it runs rapidly for a few steps and then stops; it seems
content to confine its foraging to a rather limited area and does
not appear very active.
Spring drumming on a resonant limb, or inside a nesting cavity,
is an essential part of the call to courtship or mating, and
perhaps a signal call for other purposes; but it is used at other
times, perhaps for sheer amusement. This habit sometimes becomes a
nuisance, since the bird has discovered that the tin roof of a
house serves as the best kind of a drum; here he comes morning
after morning while we are enjoying our slumbers, from which we
are rudely awakened at an unseemly hour. Mr. DuBois writes to me
that, on an afternoon in June, "a flicker was drumming on the
lid of a large galvanized iron ash or garbage can at the corner of
the back porch of a residence; he stood on top of the lid and, at
intervals, after looking around he beat an extremely rapid roll on
his metallic drum; the effect was startling."
As to the roosting habits of flickers, Miss Sherman (1910)
writes: "Of all our birds the flickers are the earliest to
retire at night, sometimes going to their lodgings an hour before
sundown, the customary time being about a half hour before sunset.
Generally they go out soon after sunrise, but on cool autumn
mornings they have been known to linger much longer. During a
rainstorm in the middle of the day they have been seen to seek
their apartments, also in fine weather they have been found there
enjoying the seclusion thus afforded."
Frank R. Smith, of Hyattsville, Md., sends me the following
note, dated February 18, 1936: "For some nights, a flicker
has been roosting in a shell of a dead tree, from which one side
has decayed away, leaving a troughlike section of its trunk
standing. He roosts about 12 feet from the ground. This morning it
was cloudy and he left the roosting place at 7:25, although
official sunrise is at 6:37." Mr. Shelley tells me that he
flushed a male from a nest tree, "where he clung each night
about 3 feet above the nest hole, with the female brooding the
young within." Flickers will roost in any open cavity in a
tree, or even in a partially sheltered spot on the open trunk;
they often drill holes in barns or under the eaves of houses for
winter roosts; a favorite winter roosting place is in the sawdust
between the double walls of icehouses. Sometimes they dig a hole
into a vacant building and fail to find their way out; I once
found one dead inside the garage at my summer cottage, which had
been closed all winter. Mr. Forbush (1927) says that "during
one winter at Wareham one apparently slept on the wall of my
summer cottage under the eaves, clinging to one of the ornamental
battens in an upright position as it would to a tree trunk. This
bird for some unaccountable reason chose the north side of the
cottage. He was there night after night at dusk and also at
daylight each morning. Mr. R. F. Carr tells of a flicker that was
accustomed to pass winter nights in a chimney of an unoccupied
dwelling in a thickly settled neighborhood which undoubtedly was a
more comfortable roosting place than the north side of my
cottage."
Dr. Lynds Jones told Mr. Burns (1900) that "at Oberlin
College a single bird roosted between the vertical water pipe and
wall of Spear Library for two successive winters, and another
occupied the cupola of the Theological Seminary the succeeding
winter."
Flickers are generally regarded as peaceful harmless birds, but
the following two quotations indicate that they are sometimes
otherwise.
O. P. Allert (1934) writes from Giard, Iowa: "On June 4,
1933, while in the yard of my home, I was attracted by the cries
of a pair of Robins and saw a female Flicker in the act of killing
the two young that the Robins' nest contained. One was killed in
the nest, and the other either fell or was thrown to the ground,
where the Flicker followed and dispatched it."
Dr. Dayton Stoner (1932) writes: "While the flicker is not
habitually belligerent, it does on occasion show some
aggressiveness. This most frequently occurs during the breeding
season. For example, on July 11, 1929, in the Parker woods south
of Lakeport, I came upon several flickers and two or three crows
that were tormenting a red-shouldered hawk. The flickers were
pecking excitedly on the limbs of the tree on which the hawk
perched, and clamoring loudly at it. When the hawk flew off the
flickers darted after it, pecking it unmercifully until it lit
again, when they were cautious about approaching close to the
harassed hawk. This quarrel was continued for more than half an
hour."
Voice.--The flicker has an elaborate
vocabulary; no other woodpecker, and few other birds, can produce
a greater variety of loud striking calls and soft conversational
notes. A number of its many vernacular names are based on a
fancied resemblance to some one of its notes, and in most cases
these names give a very fair idea of the note. A few of such names
are "flicker," "yucker," "wacup,"
"hittock," "yarrup," "clape," and
"piute"; and there are other modifications of these in
different combinations of letters.
The commonest and most characteristic note is the loud spring
call, of which Eugene P. Bicknell (1885) says: "Its long
rolling call may be taken as especially representative of song,
and is a characteristic sound of the empty woodland of early
spring. It is usually given from some high perch, and has a free,
far-reaching quality, that gives it the effect of a signal thrown
out over the barren country, as if to arouse sleeping nature. This
call continues irregularly through the summer, but then loses much
of its prominence amid the multitude of bird voices. It is not
infrequent in September, but later than the middle of October I
have not heard it."
This is a sharp, penetrating note, which can be heard at a long
distance; the syllables wick, wick, wick, wick, or yuck,
yuck, yuck, yuck, are very rapidly uttered and repeated in
long series. Dr. Elon H. Eaton (1914) says that "it may be
heard for more than half a mile and has been variously syllabized,
usually written as 'cuh-cuh-cuh-cuh'," which hardly
represents my idea of the song.
A softer note, heard during active courtship and display,
sounds like wake-up, wake-up, wake-up, or yarrup, yarrup,
yarrup, given more deliberately in subdued tones and not so
prolonged. This has been referred to as the scythe-sharpening, or
rollicking, song and has also been written as yucker, yucker,
yucker, or wicker, wicker, wicker, or hick-up,
hick-up, hick-up, or flicker, flicker, flicker. Mr.
Bicknell (1885) has recorded these notes from April 8 to September
5; there seems to be no seasonal regularity about them, as they
are probably affectionate notes of greeting.Mr. Burns (1900)
"heard an apparently rare variation, a metallic Ka-wick-wick-wick-wick-wick
-wick-wick-wick-wick-wick-ka by the male while close to the
nest."
He gives as conversational, or soliloquizing notes,
"commonly a scanny, gurgling, almost involuntary chur-r-r-r
as danger seems to threaten it when on the wing, or when flushed
from the ground or just before alighting, which may be interpreted
as a note of warning or announcement of arrival according to the
circumstances. I have heard a low guttural who-del as it
endeavored to balance itself on a slender branch immediately after
arrival." A bird on a house roof, in December, "uttered
an odd guttural call of huck-a-woo-ah or again only woo
woo evidently for his own edification." Other soft
conversational notes sound like ouit-ouit, or puir-puir,
or a cooing yu-cah-yu-cah.
Dr. Eaton (1914) says: "When the flicker flies up from the
ground and alights on a stub or fence post, he frequently bobs and
bows to an imaginary audience and immediately thereafter jerks his
head high upward giving voice to a sharp note like the syllable 'clape.'"
This is a loud, explosive note and may indicate defiance or
surprise.
A common note, oftenest heard during summer and fall, is a
plaintive call suggesting one of the notes of the blue jay or the
red-shouldered hawk. It is a loud and rather musical note, which
has been variously interpreted as pee-ut, ye-a-up, pee-up, que-ah,
kee-yer, etc., given singly or repeated two or three times, as
a ringing call of considerable carrying power.
Field marks.--While hopping
about on the lawn, the flicker may be recognized as a brown bird
somewhat larger than a robin and with a rather long bill; if
facing the observer, the black crescent on the nape does not show
up much except at short range, nor does the black malar patch of
the male. The most conspicuous field mark is the white rump, which
shows plainly as the bird rises from the ground and flies away;
this probably serves as a direction mark, or a warning to
companions with which it is often associated. Then, of course, the
flash of bright yellow in its wings and tail marks the bird in
flight, chiefly when high in the air, but somewhat also in
straightaway flight.
Enemies.--When
I was a boy, 50 or 60 years ago, flickers, meadowlarks, and robins
were considered legitimate game, and they were very good to eat.
Bunches of these birds were often seen hanging in the game
dealers' stalls. During our fall vacations on the coast, when the
weather was unfavorable for coot shooting, my father and uncle
used to resort to the uplands to shoot "partridge
woodpeckers" and "brown backs" (robins) among the
bayberry bushes and sumacs. And flickers were slaughtered in large
numbers in the South. Man was then the flicker's worst enemy, but
that is now all ancient history, as these birds are now protected.
But a new enemy has been introduced, which is probably worse than
the old one. The European starling has come to compete with the
flicker in its search for a food supply. The starlings are now so
abundant that they swoop down in flocks on the formerly plentiful
supply of wild fruits and berries, stripping the trees and bushes
clean of the fruits on which the flickers and robins depended for
their summer and fall food. They also compete for nesting sites,
fighting for or usurping every available cavity, even driving the
flickers from the homes that they had made. Lester W. Smith writes
to me: "For several years after the starling became common in
Connecticut, other birds, especially the flicker, were seldom
ejected, or not until all available nesting possibilities about
buildings were used and filled up. Never have I seen the flickers
actually fight to retain their hole or bird house. On the
sanctuary they were exceptionally noisy whenever starlings
attempted to take or had taken possession. On one occasion three
starlings took part; one remained in the entrance hole of the box
and took dry grass that a second brought to it; the third chased
off either of the pair of flickers, as it flew near the nest box,
which was about 8 feet from the ground on a sawed-off tree in a
white-pine grove. On shooting one of the starlings, the other four
birds flew away temporarily, and, on examination, I found a thin
layer of grass over the flicker's eggs. In 15 minutes the
starlings returned and a second was shot. I removed the grass,
and, hiding nearby, I saw nothing more of the third starling; but
the flickers returned soon, took possession of the box, and later
raised the five young."
Sydney R. Taber (1921) tells an interesting story of a battle
between a male flicker and a pair of starlings for the possession
of the flickers' nest. The flicker had once pulled one of the
starlings out of the hole, but, during his absence, both of the
starlings entered the hole.
On this second occasion, despairing of being able to pull
the two out at long range, so to speak, the Flicker also plunged
into the hole. Then followed a battle royal, lasting for what
seemed minutes. It was rather ghastly to imagine the blows that
were being dealt at closest quarters; not a sound was emitted, but
one could imagine what was going on within the hole by the
feathers that flew from it. The first bird to emerge--that is, to
be pushed out, by fractions of an inch--was one of the Starlings,
which then flew away. The fight between the other two birds then
continued out of sight until something appeared at the mouth of
the hole. This proved to be the tail of the Flicker. When he had
backed out of the hole into view once more, it appeared that he
and the remaining Starling had clinched in a desperate grapple.
With the latter gripping one of the wings of the Flicker, they
fell, fluttering and fighting, a distance of nearly 40 feet; but
just before touching the ground, they parted and flew in different
directions. . . .
The above events occurred a fortnight ago. Since then the
Starlings have been in full possession of the hole of contention.
Flickers figure largely in the food of duck hawks; their
brightly colored feathers are often found about the aeries. Other
hawks take their toll. O. A. Stevens sends me the following note
on a sharp-shinned hawk attacking a flicker, perhaps only in
sport: "The hawk settled in a partially dead, spreading pine
tree, some 8 feet from the top. A flicker perched about 6 feet
above him, apparently from curiosity. For some time they remained,
the hawk sitting quietly, preening, occasionally casting a glance
at the flicker. The latter teetered about on his perch, craning
his neck at the hawk and even dropping down a foot or so. After at
least 10 minutes, the hawk suddenly darted at the flicker and away
they went, the flicker twisting and escaping. It seems odd that an
apparently heavy flier like a flicker would escape so
easily."
Mr. Burns (1903) adds the broad-winged hawk to the flicker's
enemies; "a nest of lusty young hawks examined in July, '01,
contained the primaries and rectrices of one or two young
Flickers, probably just out of the nest. . . . To the above Mr.
Benj. T. Gault adds the Blacksnake--one having been killed and cut
open by a farmer's lad at a place he was stopping at in Reynolds
County, Missouri, contained the body of one of these
woodpeckers." I have positively recorded flickers in the food
of the marsh hawk, Cooper's hawk, and red-shouldered hawk;
probably they are killed by all the larger hawks and owls.
Taverner and Swales (1907) say that the sharpshin flights at Point
Pelee discommoded the flickers less than any other species of
small birds. "Though at times they seemed uneasy and
restless, they were perfectly able to take care of themselves and
easily made their escape when attacked. . . . The usual course of
procedure of the Flicker, when attacked by a hawk, was to wait
until the last minute, when the hawk, in its swoop, was just about
to seize its victim, and then dodge quickly to the other side of
the limb. In every case observed the ruse worked perfectly, and we
found only once the feather remains which proved that once in a
while the hawk was a little too quick for the Flicker."
Mr. Burns (1900) says that the eggs and young are sometimes
destroyed by squirrels, weasels, mice, crows, jays, and the
red-headed woodpecker. Fred. H. Kennard records in his notes that
a pair of flickers, nesting in one of his boxes, were robbed of
their eggs by some red squirrels, who ate the eggs in the box,
built their own nest in the box, and brought in their young from
another nest.
Fall.--As soon as the young are
strong on the wing and the molting season is over, the flickers,
old and young, begin to gather into loose flocks or scattered
parties, perhaps family parties, late in summer and early in fall.
On cold, windy autumn days they may be found in close
companionship in hollows and sheltered localities in woodland
clearings, protected from the cold winds, and feeding in the
bayberry patches and clumps of staghorn sumac. At such times, they
lie close and can be easily approached.
In southern Canada and the northern states, the great bulk of
the flickers start to migrate in September, continuing to pass
southward during October. Mr. Burns (1900) says of the fall
migration: "While the retrograde movements are conducted in
larger numbers, being recruited by great numbers of birds of the
year, it is scarcely as noticeable, lacking the noise and bustle
of spring arrivals. Like the Robin, its whole nature seems to have
undergone a change. It no longer solicits notice by song or
display, but becomes shy and suspicious, and while gregarious to a
great extent, in flight every one is capable of looking out for
itself. The mature birds are the most wary, and by example prepare
the young for the dangers of migration and winter residence in the
South, where it is constantly menaced by hunters."
During migration, they fly rather high, well above the
treetops, in widely detached flocks, often far apart, but keeping
more or less in touch with each other and sometimes fairly close
together; hundreds may be counted, as they pass in a steady stream
for hours at a time. Taverner and Swales (1907) report heavy
flights across Lake Erie from Point Pelee: "During September
it has always been one of the most abundant birds of the Point.
Keays reports a flight in 1901 when he noted four hundred
September 21." Long Point, which extends well out from the
north shore of Lake Erie, is another favorite crossing place;
here, according to L. L. Snyder (1931), "the flight observed
by Mr. James Savage on September 30, 1930, was very remarkable,
individuals estimated to be from one to two hundred yards apart,
forming a scattered and straggling flock, passed in an almost
steady stream throughout the morning hours."
Mr. Burns (1903) writes:
In south New Jersey, in the region of the Upper Delaware
Bay, which runs due south, sometime in October every year the
migrating Flickers are found flying north just previous to and
during a northwest storm. At this time the wind is generally high
and the birds fly against it. This peculiarity of flight affects a
large territory extending inland from the east shore of the bay
some fifteen or twenty miles. While the birds prefer to breast the
wind, it is also probable that they are reluctant to cross the
lower part of the bay during such a storm which would tend to
drive them seaward, rather preferring to return northward to the
more narrow river where they could cross in comparative safety.
Winter.--Winter finds most of the
flickers gone from the northern states and southern Canada. Most
of the birds wintering in New England seek the milder climate of
the seacoast, where they feed in the extensive bayberry patches
and on the semidormant insect life in the rows of drift seaweed
along the beaches. The few that remain inland during mild winters
are usually to be found in sheltered hollows or along the sunny
sides of the woods, feeding on the ground or on what berries and
dry fruits still remain on the bushes, often in company with merry
little winter parties of juncos, tree sparrows, chickadees,
nuthatches, and perhaps a downy or hairy woodpecker. Favorite
resorts at that season are the southern slopes of the hills
overgrown with thick stands of red cedars, mixed with staghorn
sumacs, barberries, and other berry-bearing bushes. They probably
seek shelter at night in the dense cedar swamps or in the holes
excavated for that purpose in icehouses or other buildings, or in
hollow trees.
L. H. Walkinshaw, of Battle Creek, Mich., writes to me that
there, "in deep winter, flickers can be found in the deep
tamarack swamps, coming to the edge during periods of the day.
They often flush, even when snow is deep, from mounds on the
ground or from dead or dying stubs along the border."
O. A. Stevens says in his notes: "At my farm home in
Kansas, the flickers caused some annoyance by seeking entrance to
the barn for winter nights. They enlarged other openings for this
purpose and sometimes started openings which would not lead them
inside. One bird at least, enlarged the opening about the hayfork
track and roosted on the iron track just inside the door."
Dr. Paul L. Errington (1936) writes an interesting story on the
winter-killing of flickers in central Iowa. By a careful study of
the droppings of the three birds that he studied, it appeared that
they were much weakened by improper food, too large a proportion
of indigestible seeds, mainly those of the sumac, and not enough
animal food, which ordinarily amounts to more than half of the
average food supply.
M. P. Skinner (1928), writing of the Sandhills of North
Carolina, says: "Flickers stay in the Sandhills all winter,
but the infrequent snowstorms cause them lots of trouble in
finding food. On January 10, 1927, I found quite a little coterie
of birds had scratched the leaves under a dogwood tree until they
had a space twelve feet in diameter more or less cleared of snow.
Here, among other species of birds, were two Flickers foraging
among the leaves for fallen dogwood berries. These berries were
probably eaten until weather conditions became better for insect
catching. Even during winter, ants are fairly plentiful for the
Sandhill Flickers, especially on warm days."
Northern Flicker*
Colaptes auratus
*Original Source: Bent,
Arthur Cleveland. 1939. Smithsonian Institution United States
National Museum Bulletin 174: 264-287. United States Government
Printing Office
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