88 BULLETIN 174, UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM 



of elder bushes in the distance, not far from the brook, the thought occurred 

 to me that I might talie a rest beneath their shade and at the same time be 

 ready for any bird that put in an appearance. These bushes, or more prop- 

 erly trees, are a great deal larger shrub than our eastern plant, their trunks 

 growing from 4 to 8 inches through ; and if they are not the same species, their 

 umbellate blossoms are strikingly similar, if not identical, to those of our 

 common eastern shrub (Saonbucus canadensis). I had hardly seated myself 

 on an arm of the shrub when my attention was attracted to a hole in the main 

 trunk, directly above my head. At almost the same instant a bird appeared 

 at the opening from within, and dodged back again as soon as she saw me. 

 The movement was executed so quickly that I was unable to tell whether it 

 was a wren or a woodpecker, but concluded that it was the latter. Upon 

 examination of the aperture it seemed to have been lately made. Of course 

 I thought that there would be no trouble in dislodging her, and commenced 

 to rap on the trunk of the shrub with the butt of my gun ; but this seemed 

 to have no effect. I then walked back about 50 feet, and taking a stand, 

 waited from ten to fifteen minutes in the hope that she would come out, afford- 

 ing me an opportunity to secure her and thus solve the mystery, but in this 

 maneuver I was also baffled. I then went up to the bush and shouted with 

 all my might, but this did not shake her nervous system in the least, when I 

 finally resorted to my jackknife in order to enlarge the orifice, but, from its 

 being such a tedious job, gave it up in disgust. The next morning I took 

 a hatchet along with me, for I desired very much to know what that hole 

 contained. It did not take me very long to cut a place large enough for me 

 to get my hand in, and I was thoroughly surprised to learn that the bird 

 was still on her nest. I pulled her out, and she appeared to be stupefied — 

 dead, apparently — but soon revived. Upon further inspection I found that the 

 nest contained eggs. The bird proved to be a female Nuttall's woodpecker, 

 and the eggs were pretty well advanced in incubation and would have hatched 

 in a few days. 



The nest, which was about 5% feet from the ground, was nearly a foot 

 deep and about 5 inches wide. The hole at the entrance to the nest was but 

 a little larger than a silver half dollar. The eggs were six in number. 



Mr. Dawson's (1923) remarks on the nesting of this woodpecker 

 are rather cryptic, but I infer from them that it nests in willows, 

 alders, elders, cottonwoods, sycamores, live oaks, and other oaks and 

 at heights varying from 21^ to 60 feet above ground. The only 

 nest of this species that I have seen was shown to me by A. M. Inger- 

 soll, while collecting with him and James B. Dixon, in San Diego 

 County, Calif., on April 9, 1929; the nest, which the birds had not 

 quite finished excavating, was about 30 feet from the ground in a 

 leaning, dead cottonwood tree (pi. 11). A set of four eggs in my 

 collection was taken by Henry W. Carriger, on April 23, 1897, in 

 Sonoma County, Calif.; the nest was in a dead limb of a large 

 laurel along a creek; he had taken a set of six eggs from the same 

 tree the previous year. 



Eggs. — Nuttall's woodpecker lays three to six eggs, most commonly 

 four and often five. These are ovate, or rarely short-ovate or ellip- 

 tical-ovate. The color is dull creamy white or pure white, and some- 

 times rather glossy. The measurements of 47 eggs average 21.75 by 



