Length: About 6 inches.

General Appearance: A short, thickset bird, blue-gray, black, and white. Bill long; tail short and square.

Male: Mostly bluish-gray above; white underneath, shading to reddish-brown at sides and under tail; top of head and nape a shining blue-black; sides of head and throat white; wings gray shading to brown, edged and tipped with light gray or white; shoulders gray and black; bill large and strong, (¾ of an inch in length); tail short and square-cut; middle feathers bluish-gray; outer ones black, with large white patches near tips; legs short; feet large and strong; hind toe unusually long, with a long, sharp nail.

Female: Head a dull grayish-black; otherwise like male.

Notes: A nasal crank-crank, which, though not melodious, is not unpleasant to hear. Dr. Chapman says: “There is such a lack of sentiment in the Nuthatch’s character, he seems so matter-of-fact in all his ways, that it is difficult to imagine him indulging in anything like song. But even he cannot withstand the conquering influences of spring, and at that season he raises his voice in a peculiar monotone—a tenor hah-hah-hah-hah-hah—sounding strangely like mirthless laughter.”[41]

Flight: Undulating.

Habitat: Trunks of trees, which he ascends and descends. The other tree-trunk birds, except the black and white warbler, usually ascend trees.

NUTHATCH

Range: North America, east of the Plains. A permanent resident, though irregularly distributed. Breeds from central Canada to the northern parts of the Gulf States.

Of the so-called tree-trunk birds, none are easier to identify than nuthatches, because of their habit of descending trees. Woodpeckers jerk themselves up a tree somewhat as men might ascend telegraph-poles or smooth slippery palm trees. Creepers wind spirally about trunks in a gentle, unobtrusive manner. Both woodpeckers and creepers use their sharply-pointed tails as props. Not so the nuthatches. They care not how they go—“uphill or down dale”—all is one to them. They are as sure-footed as burros descending the Grand Canyon. If they depart from their trail, and decide to leap from crag to crag of their arboreal cliffs, they alight on their strong feet with something of the assurance of a cat. Their tails are not necessary to them as supports.

It is interesting to inquire into the reasons for curious habits of birds. In the economy of Nature one finds marvelous adaptations and harmonies. Mr. Francis H. Allen, in his delightful sketch written for the National Association of Audubon Societies, speaks of the nuthatch as “filling a gap in nature” by approaching his prey from an angle not possible to woodpeckers and creepers. Mr. Allen says: “He would not have adopted so unusual a method of feeding if it had not stood him in good stead. I suspect that by approaching his prey from above he detects insects and insect-eggs in the crevices of the bark which would be hidden from another point of view. The woodpeckers and the creepers can take care of the rest. Of course these other birds get something of a downward view as they bend their heads forward, but the Nuthatch has the advantage of seeing, before he gets to them, some insects which even a Brown Creeper’s gentle approach would scare into closer hiding in their holes and crannies.”[42]

In addition to beetles, moths, caterpillars, ants, and wasps, the nuthatch eats seeds, waste grain, and nuts such as acorns, beechnuts, and chestnuts.[43] His habit of wedging nuts into some crevice that will hold them securely, and then using his strong bill as a hatchet to “hatch” open the nuts is well-known. From that habit he derives his name, which Mr. Forbush says originated probably from nuthack or nuthacker. The bird does much good, and no harm that is known.

He is active and cheerful, inquisitive, and intelligent. He makes an interesting winter companion. During an ice-storm in Asheville, N. C., a nuthatch was attracted by fragments of bread scattered for the hungry winter birds during their famine time. This nuthatch pounced on large crumbs so greedily and purloined them so rapidly that my sisters feared he would die of acute indigestion! They finally discovered that he had wedged the crumbs into large crevices in the bark of a tree near by, and had stowed one good-sized crust in a hole in a telegraph-pole. When he had appropriated most of the bread, he spent the day feasting, going from one store house to another.

A nuthatch in Massachusetts frequently sought an improvised feeding-table made from a bluebird’s nesting-box. One cold morning the owner saw him emerging from the box, where he had evidently “spent the night sitting on his breakfast,” literally seated in the lap of luxury. He reminded me of that delicious tale I loved to read and contemplate during childhood,—of the children who lived in a candy house and ate their way out of it!

Another New England nuthatch, one that I watched at my feeding-table, at first made rapid inroads upon the suet-cage, storing pieces in the cracks of a tree near by. I saw him tuck one large crumb beneath a warped shingle of the chicken-house, evidently laying it up for an icy day, instead of the proverbial rainy one. When an unusually severe ice-storm occurred, he returned to his store house and the crumb disappeared. I had the satisfaction of having assisted him in his dire need.