The Lewis Woodpecker 
acorns off the ground, and they have been known to swagger about on 
the wing in a most insolent manner, each with his beak thrust into an 
acorn. It is even whispered—the story comes from Colorado—that the 
“Independent” crowd has experimented with storage tanks on its own 
account, and that it has patented an improvement, namely, that of 
stripping off the husks before storing acorns away in crannies and aban¬ 
doned hollows in trees. Of course this is gall and wormwood to the 
Californias, who, in turn, suspect the Lewises—rightly, no doubt—of 
filching from their stores. 
The acorn crop is, possibly, the controlling element in Lewis’s choice 
of winter quarters. The bird, at best, is of somewhat irregular or sporadic 
occurrence, even in its summer range. In winter, when it forsakes the 
northern latitudes and falls back from the Transition altitudes of our own 
mountains, it may appear in regions which have scarcely known its pres¬ 
ence before; or it may be unaccountably absent from other quarters, where 
its appearance was reckoned as commonplace. The autumnal movements 
of this species are sometimes quite striking in point of numbers, but the 
return movement is more desultory and seldom provokes comment. 
Nesting occurs typically in rather open country, in a scattering stand 
of LTpper Sonoran pines, in charred stubs overlooking an old fir slashing, 
or in the cottonwood belt which lines some of our northern streams. 
The nesting hole, which, according to some authorities, may serve for 
several seasons, is tunnelled at any height in dead timber or, more rarely, 
in a living pine. A set in the M. C. O. collection was taken on the 12th 
of June, 1912, from a hole sixty-five feet up in a giant pine stub over¬ 
looking Goose Lake. Being without climbers (which are little used in 
California) and the tree being of huge girth, I shall not soon forget the 
intimate discussion with each dead branch in the perilous stairway which 
led up to the treasures. The bird was generous, six fresh eggs, and I 
am sure she did not begrudge the pearly trophies, since she made no 
remonstrance. As Captain Bendire well says: 1 “On its breeding ground 
Lewis’s Woodpecker appears to be a stupid and rather sluggish bird; 
it does not show nearly as much parental affection as most of the other 
members of this family, and it is much less demonstrative. It is not at 
all shy at such times, and will often cling to some convenient limb on the 
same tree while its eggs are being taken, without making the least com¬ 
plaint. A second and smaller set is generally laid a couple of weeks 
later if the first one is taken, and not infrequently in the same nest if the 
entrance hole has been left intact.” 
1 Life Histories, Vol. I., p. 120. 
