Mr. DuBois writes to me that “a red-headed woodpecker was observed hanging upside down from the small twigs at the end of a branch of a large oak, evidently gleaning insect life of some sort from the twigs. It flew to another tree and repeated this method of feeding.”
Lewis O. Shelley tells me that he observed one “feeding on ants in a dry, harvested oat piece, obtaining the ants by thrusting the bill into an ant tunnel entrance and working the bill to form a cone-shaped opening, up through which the ants emerged at the disturbance, and were licked up without the bill being withdrawn from this foodhopper.”
Behavior.—Audubon (1842) writes attractively of the behavior of this woodpecker:
With the exception of the mocking-bird, I know of no species so gay and frolicksome. Indeed, their whole life is one of pleasure. They find a superabundance of food everywhere, as well as the best facilities for raising their broods. * * * They do not seem to be much afraid of man, although they have scarcely a more dangerous enemy. When alighted on a fence-stake by the road, or in a field, and one approaches them, they gradually move sidewise out of sight, peeping now and then to discover your intention; and when you are quite close and opposite, lie still until you are past, when they hop to the top of the stake, and rattle upon it with their bill, as if to congratulate themselves on the success of their cunning. Should you approach within arm’s length, which may frequently be done, the woodpecker flies to the next stake or the second from you, bends his head to peep, and rattles again, as if to provoke you to a continuance of what seems to him excellent sport. * * *
They chase each other on wing in a very amicable manner, in long, beautifully curved sweeps, during which the remarkable variety of their plumage becomes conspicuous, and is highly pleasing to the eye. When passing from one tree to another, their flight resembles the motion of a great swing, and is performed by a single opening of the wings, descending at first, and rising towards the spot on which they are going to alight with ease, and in the most graceful manner. They move upwards, sidewise, or backwards, without apparent effort, but seldom with the head downwards. * * *
On the ground, this species is by no means awkward, as it hops there with ease, and secures beetles which it had espied whilst on the fence or a tree.
Red-headed woodpeckers are quite quarrelsome at times with other species; besides attacking various small birds, driving them away from their nests, or robbing them of their eggs or young, they contend with other hole-nesting birds, such as starlings and the smaller woodpeckers, for the possession of nesting holes. They are jealous of their food supply and will drive other birds away from their favorite feeding places or from any choice morsel of food. They are generally the winners in such encounters, even against such aggressive rivals as blue jays and starlings. But toward birds of their own species they are often solicitous, friendly, and helpful to birds in trouble. Mr. DuBois writes to me: “A wounded female, after several attempts to fly, fluttered to the ground; and while she was fluttering in the air, her mate flew to her and apparently tried to help her to a place of safety. After reaching the ground, the female lay still in the grass, although only winged; but her mate clung to a nearby tree, from which he flew down to her repeatedly, showing great distress.”
H. M. Holland (1931) tells the following story:
A red-head was caught by one wing, and possibly a foot, in a crack formed at the tip of a tall, dead tree where the trunk had been broken off and left a splintered stub. Perhaps a dozen red-heads were present, all flying here and there, evidently much excited, and make a great ado, a veritable woodpecker hubbub.
First one and then another would alight just below and apparently peck at, or more often while in flight would strike or brush against the hapless victim, whose struggles were renewed at each encounter. The clamor became actually distressing. At times two or three were simultaneously fluttering close to the captive. These activities continued for several minutes when suddenly the bird was freed, to accomplish which it would seem that a concerted effort had been made. Quiet was restored almost at once and the participants dispersed.