44 THE NUTHATCH 
FAMILY SITTIDZA 
THE NUTHATCH 
SITTA CESIA 
Upper plumage bluish grey; a black streak across the eye; cheeks and throat 
white ; under plumage dull orange red ; outer tail-feathers black, with 
a white spot near the end, tipped with grey, the two central ones grey} 
beak bluish black, the lower mandible white at the base ; feet light brown. 
Length six inches. Eggs white, spotted with two shades of purplish red. 
STANDING, one winter’s day, by the side of a pond, near a row of 
tall elms, and watching some boys sliding, I heard the few short 
twittering notes of a Nuthatch overhead, and it at once occurred 
to me how I should describe the note in such a way that it should 
be infallibly recognized. It is precisely like the sound made by a 
pebble thrown so as to bound along ice. This is the winter note. 
On fine sunny days in February it begins to add to its simple call 
a more musical sound, approaching a whistle. Further on in the 
season, the twitter is heard no more, and is exchanged altogether for 
a not unmelodious whistle, several times repeated, rarely protracted 
into a bubbling sound, such as it might be supposed to make if it 
were rattling a pea in its throat. On these occasions it is usually 
perched in the branches of a tree, and may be distinguished by its 
bluish grey back, dull red breast, and short tail. The Nuthatch is 
not an accomplished musician, and claims,’ therefore, to be pointed 
out by other characteristics. This is no difficult task to undertake ; 
for no British bird is more decidedly marked inits habits. In the 
first place, it has strong clasping claws, which admirably adapt it for 
climbing ; and though it does not possess the rigid tail of the Wood- 
peckers to aid it in this operation, it has a short tail which never 
comes in the way. In most counties of England where old timber 
is (except the extreme western and northern, where it is rare) any 
one walking through a woodland district and keeping a sharp look- 
out may observe a bluish bird, somewhat larger than a Sparrow, 
creeping by starts up the trunk of any rough barked tree. It is so 
intent on its occupation—that of searching for insects in the 
crevices of the bark—that it takes no notice of the observer, but 
pursues its course after a method of its own, but according to no rule 
that we can detect. Now it disappears on one side of the trunk 
and then shows itself a few inches higher on the other ; now it is 
lost to sight for a longer interval—one would think it was hiding, or 
had taken its departure—but no, there it is again, creeping, back 
downwards, along a horizontal branch; arrived at the extremity 
it utters a double twitter, perhaps, and flies either to a new tree or 
to another branch of the same. This time it creeps from the 
extremity of a branch towards the bole of the tree, equally at ease 
whatever may chance to be its position, and no more affected by 
