234 OUR NATIONAL PARKS 



of the West he represents the Eastern red-head. 

 Bright, cheerful, industrious, not in the least shy, 

 the carpenters give delightful animation to the 

 open Sierra forests at a height of from three 

 thousand to fifty-five hundred feet, especially in 

 autumn, when the acorns are ripe. Then no 

 squirrel works harder at his pine-nut harvest 

 than these woodpeckers at their acorn harvest, 

 drilling holes in the thick, corky bark of the 

 yellow pine and incense cedar, in which to store 

 the crop for winter use, — a hole for each acorn, 

 so nicely adjusted as to size that when the 

 acorn, point foremost, is driven in, it fits so 

 well that it cannot be drawn out without dig- 

 ging around it. Each acorn is thus carefully 

 stored in a dry bin, perfectly protected from the 

 weather, — a most laborious method of stowing 

 away a crop, a granary for each kernel. Yet 

 the birds seem never to weary at the work, but 

 go on so diligently that they seem determined to 

 save every acorn in the grove. They are never 

 seen eating acorns at the time they are storing 

 them, and it is commonly believed that they 

 never eat them or intend to eat them, but that 

 the wise birds store them and protect them from 

 the depredations of squirrels and jays, solely for 

 the sake of the worms they are supposed to con- 

 tain. And because these worms are too small 

 for use at the time the acorns drop, they are 

 shut up like lean calves and steers, each in a 



