Читать книгу Birds and all Nature, Vol. V, No. 2, February 1899 - Various - Страница 3

NO squirrel works harder at his pine-nut harvest than the carpenter woodpeckers in autumn at their acorn harvest, says John Muir in the December Atlantic, 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 fore-most, is driven in, it fits so well that it cannot be drawn out without digging 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 they never seem to weary at the work, but go on so diligently they seem determined that every acorn in the grove shall be saved. 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 solely for the sake of the worms they are supposed to contain. 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 separate stall, with abundance of food to grow big and fat by the time they will be the most wanted, that is, in winter, when insects are scarce and stall-fed worms most valuable. So these woodpeckers are supposed to be a sort of cattle-raiser, each with a drove of thousands, rivaling the ants that raise grain and keep herds of plant lice for milk cows. Needless to say, the story is not true, though some naturalists even believe it. When Emerson was in the park, having heard the worm story, and seen the great pines plugged full of acorns, he asked (just to pump me, I suppose): "Why do woodpeckers take the trouble to put acorns into the bark of the trees?" "For the same reason," I replied, "that bees store honey and squirrels nuts." "But they tell me, Mr. Muir, that woodpeckers don't eat acorns." "Yes they do," I said. "I have seen them eating them. During snowstorms they seem to eat little besides acorns. I have repeatedly interrupted them at their meals, and seen the perfectly sound, half-eaten acorns. They eat them in the shell as some people eat eggs." "But what about the worms?" "I suppose," I said, "that when they come to a wormy one they eat both worm and acorn. Anyhow, they eat the sound ones when they can't find anything they like better, and from the time they store them until they are used they guard them, and woe to the squirrel or jay caught stealing."