“In the fall season this species is busily engaged in digging small holes in the bark of the pines and oaks, to receive acorns, one of which is placed in each hole, and is so tightly fitted or driven in, that it is with difficulty extracted. Thus the bark of a large pine, forty or fifty feet high, will present the appearance of being closely studded with brass nails, the heads only being visible. These acorns are thus stored in large quantities, and serve not only the woodpecker during the winter season, but are trespassed on by the jays, mice and squirrels. “The nest of this bird is dug out in the body of a tree, and is from six inches to two feet in depth. The eggs, four or five in number, are pure white.” The following graphic and intelligent account, to the same purpose, is from Kelly’s Excursion to California, and is evidently from the pen of an excellent observer and an agreeable writer: “In stripping off the bark of this tree, I observed it to be perforated with holes, larger than those which a musket ball would make, shaped with the most accurate precision as if bored under the guidance of a rule and compass, and many of them filled most neatly with acorns. Earlier in the season I had remarked such holes in most of all the softer timber, but imagining that they were caused by wood insects, I did not stop to examine or inquire, but now finding them studded with acorns, firmly fixed in, which I knew could not have been driven there by the wind, I sought for an explanation, which was practically given me by Captain S——’s pointing out a flock of woodpeckers, busily and noisily employed in the provident task of securing the winter’s provision. For it appears that this sagacious bird is not all the time thriftlessly engaged in ‘tapping the hollow beach tree’ for the mere idle purpose of empty sound, but spends its summer season in picking these holes, in which it lays its store of food for the winter, where the elements can neither affect nor place it beyond their reach, and it is regarded as a sure omen that the snowy period is approaching when these birds commence stowing away their acorns, which otherwise might be covered by its fall. I frequently have paused from my chopping, to watch them in the neighborhood, with the acorns in their bills, half clawing, half flying around the tree, and have admired the adroitness with which they tried it at different holes until they found one of its exact calibre; when, inserting the pointed end, they tapped it home most artistically with the beak, and flew down for another.