and makes off.

One midwinter I cleared away the snow under an apple-tree near the
house and scattered some corn there. I had not seen a blue jay for
weeks, yet that very day one found my corn, and after that several came
daily and partook of it, holding the kernels under their feet upon the
limbs of the trees and pecking them vigorously.

Of course the woodpecker and his kind have sharp eyes, still I was
surprised to see how quickly Downy found out some bones that were
placed in a convenient place under the shed to be pounded up for the
hens. In going out to the barn I often disturbed him making a meal off
the bits of meat that still adhered to them.

"Look intently enough at anything," said a poet to me one day, "and you
will see something that would otherwise escape you." I thought of the
remark as I sat on a stump in an opening of the woods one spring day. I
saw a small hawk approaching; he flew to a tall tulip-tree, and
alighted on a large limb near the top. He eyed me and I eyed him. Then
the bird disclosed a trait that was new to me: he hopped along the limb
to a small cavity near the trunk, when he thrust in his head and pulled
out some small object and fell to eating it. After he had partaken of
it for some minutes he put the remainder back in his larder and flew
away. I had seen something like feathers eddying slowly down as the
hawk ate, and on approaching the spot found the feathers of a sparrow
here and there clinging to the bushes beneath the tree. The hawk,
then,--commonly called the chicken hawk,--is as provident as a mouse or
a squirrel, and lays by a store against a time of need, but I should
not have discovered the fact had I not held my eye on him.