Life histories of North American woodpeckers

by Arthur Cleveland Bent

W. Leon Dawson (1923) described the haunts of this woodpecker very well, as follows:

Although one who is forming the acquaintance of the Nuttall Woodpecker soon learns where to look for him, his range is hard to characterize in terms of associations. Upper Sonoran, foothill, oak, live oak, chaparral, deciduous trees bordering narrow stream beds—all these apply to nuttalli well enough, but they are not exhaustive, save for the first, which is all inclusive. Within Upper Sonoran limits it is, perhaps, easier to tell where he will not be found; thus, not (or only occasionally) in pine timber; not in stands of pure willow (which are given over to D. pubescens turati); not in orchards, nor about cultures of any sort; not, most decidedly, “nesting in giant cactus.” Least of all, is it “seldom found along streams,” as one precocious authority avers. A narrow canyon whose floor harbors sycamores and alders and bay trees, nourished by a purling stream, and whose sides are lined with live oaks which run up into ceanothus chaparral, is precisely the best place to look for D. nuttalli.

Nesting.—Major Bendire (1895) quotes the following contribution from B. T. Gault:

I had been out on the bowlder plain [in the San Bernardino Valley] several hours, on the morning of April 23, 1883, collecting birds, and spying a clump of elder bushes in the distance, not far from the brook, the thought occurred to me that I might take a rest beneath their shade and at the same time be ready for any bird that put in an appearance. These bushes, or more properly trees, are a great deal larger shrub than our eastern plant, their trunks growing from 4 to 8 inches through; and if they are not the same species, their umbellate blossoms are strikingly similar, if not identical, to those of our common eastern shrub (Sambucus canadensis). I had hardly seated myself on an arm of the shrub when my attention was attracted to a hole in the main trunk, directly above my head. At almost the same instant a bird appeared at the opening from within, and dodged back again as soon as she saw me. The movement was executed so quickly that I was unable to tell whether it was a wren or a woodpecker, but concluded that it was the latter. Upon examination of the aperture it seemed to have been lately made. Of course I thought that there would be no trouble in dislodging her, and commenced to rap on the trunk of the shrub with the butt of my gun; but this seemed to have no effect. I then walked back about 50 feet, and taking a stand, waited from ten to fifteen minutes in the hope that she would come out, affording me an opportunity to secure her and thus solve the mystery, but in this maneuver I was also baffled. I then went up to the bush and shouted with all my might, but this did not shake her nervous system in the least, when I finally resorted to my jackknife in order to enlarge the orifice, but, from its being such a tedious job, gave it up in disgust. The next morning I took a hatchet along with me, for I desired very much to know what that hole contained. It did not take me very long to cut a place large enough for me to get my hand in, and I was thoroughly surprised to learn that the bird was still on her nest. I pulled her out, and she appeared to be stupefied—dead, apparently—but soon revived. Upon further inspection I found that the nest contained eggs. The bird proved to be a female Nuttall’s woodpecker, and the eggs were pretty well advanced in incubation and would have hatched in a few days.

The nest, which was about 5½ feet from the ground, was nearly a foot deep and about 5 inches wide. The hole at the entrance to the nest was but a little larger than a silver half dollar. The eggs were six in number.

Mr. Dawson’s (1923) remarks on the nesting of this woodpecker are rather cryptic, but I infer from them that it nests in willows, alders, elders, cottonwoods, sycamores, live oaks, and other oaks and at heights varying from 2½ to 60 feet above ground. The only nest of this species that I have seen was shown to me by A. M. Ingersoll, while collecting with him and James B. Dixon, in San Diego County, Calif., on April 9, 1929; the nest, which the birds had not quite finished excavating, was about 30 feet from the ground in a leaning, dead cottonwood tree (pl. 11). A set of four eggs in my collection was taken by Henry W. Carriger, on April 23, 1897, in Sonoma County, Calif.; the nest was in a dead limb of a large laurel along a creek; he had taken a set of six eggs from the same tree the previous year.

Eggs.—Nuttall’s woodpecker lays three to six eggs, most commonly four and often five. These are ovate, or rarely short-ovate or elliptical-ovate. The color is dull creamy white or pure white, and sometimes rather glossy. The measurements of 47 eggs average 21.75 by 16.27 millimeters; the eggs showing the four extremes measure 25.0 by 16.0, 23.3 by 17.0, 19.30 by 15.75, and 19.7 by 14.6 millimeters.

Young.—The period of incubation is said to be about 14 days, and to be shared by both sexes. Mr. Dawson (1923) says:

The male Nuttall not only takes a lively interest in all matters connected with the nesting, but it is believed that he monopolizes the task of excavation. Certainly he takes his turn at incubating, and he is invariably, in my experience, the more valiant of the two in defense of young. The female, however, is probably the closer sitter, as there are several instances in which she has submitted to the hand rather than forsake her trust. * * * When the chicks are astir the father is fairly beside himself with joy and apprehension. In fact, if you ever require a symbol of doting solicitude, picture a male Nuttall woodpecker thrusting his head into a dark hole to make sure that nothing has spilled out of it since his last inspection—which occurred exactly three seconds ago.

Plumages.—The young are hatched naked, as with other woodpeckers, but the juvenal plumage is acquired before the young leave the nest. The young male, in juvenal plumage, has the forehead, occiput, and nape uniform dull black, leaving only the crown scarlet, spotted or speckled with white dots; the black bars on the back are dull black and the white bars are grayish white, instead of clear black and pure white, as in the adult; these bars are also less clearly defined than in the adult; the under parts are yellowish white, spotted on the sides and flanks less distinctly than in the adult, and with pale dusky, instead of clear black; the wings and tail are as in the adult.