AMERICAN AUTUMN. 359 



open in winter, while the balance every year froze 

 up. 



Again, after these fish had deserted the river I had 

 some admirable sport with them by going to the top 

 of the lake and coming down on the annual lumber- 

 raft. I was put up to this by the guide ; he for years 

 had followed lumbering, and the rafts as they floated 

 down, he assured me, were always followed by swarms 

 of trout. His information was correct as to the 

 numbers of fish, but instead of the trout of the river, 

 I found, my beautiful, brilliant-coloured friend. This 

 habit is peculiar, to say the least of it, and untrout- 

 like, and I could only account for it in two ways, viz., 

 either the shade afforded by these immense logs 

 formed the attraction, -or the constant immersion of 

 the timber in the water caused the insect denizens of 

 the bark to be drowned out of their retreats, and 

 dropping off in the water furnished these fish with a 

 favourite food. 



Summer drifted past, and with it disappeared the 

 incessant persecuting flies. Autumn, with all that 

 brilliant colouring so remarkable in America, made 

 its appearance, and the oppressive heat gave way to 

 the most desirable temperature. An English autumn 

 to me is always sad ; an American autumn is quite 

 the reverse, the hues and colours of the former are 

 sombre, in those of the latter brilliancy unsurpassable 

 predominates. An American autumn once seen makes 

 as lasting an impression on the memory of mature age, 

 as the gorgeous fairy scene of the pantomime when 

 first beheld upon that of youth. For some time none 

 of the bright-hued fish had been taken, and I much 

 feared that my acquaintance with them for that year 



