THE CALIFORNIAN WOODPECKER. 289 
herded, although I have but very little dread ot 
farther pursuit. Supped on grilled antelope, and 
got a few hours’ sleep. 
May 23rd.—All safe; no sign of being followed. 
Off at dawn; fifteen miles more of this horrid 
waste, and we begin ascending a ridge of moun- 
tains, which I find is the watershed of the streams 
flowing into the Columbia on one side and into 
the Klamath river on the other; strike the head- 
waters of the Des Chutes or Fall river, and camp 
in a fine grassy prairie belted with pine—the 
Pinus ponderosa. Here I determine to remaintwo 
days, to allow resting-time for men and animals. 
May 25th.—All wonderfully recruited; rest 
and good feeding soon repair a healthy body, be it 
man’s or quadruped’s. I stroll off with my gun, 
and observe that numbers of the pine-trees are 
completely studded with acorns, just as nails 
with large heads were driven into doors in olden 
days. JI had seen a piece of the bark filled with 
acorns in San Francisco, and was there informed 
it was the work of a woodpecker, but, to tell the 
truth, thought I was being hoaxed; but here I 
am in the midst of dozens of trees, with acorns 
sticking out all over their trunks; it is no hoax, 
for I saw the birds that did it, and shot two of 
them. This singular acorn-storer is the Cali- 
WMOLa i. U 
