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RECREATION. 



its cliffs and ravines beyond the timber 

 line to where the snow lay all the year, 

 11,000 feet straight up and above us. The 

 altitude of Lake Chelan is not more than 

 1,000 feet. I had learned to love each 

 patch of timber, and where to look for the 

 heaviest growth of syringa. One August 

 day a careless woodchopper turned all this 

 beauty into a seething, crackling sheet. For 

 a week our eyes and throats were burned 

 and dry. We felt the heat across the lake 

 and the air was full of cinders. At night 

 the fire was awful in its fascination, creep- 

 ing relentlessly on and up and along, run- 



ning up the height of a great pine till the 

 tree stood like a torch, and then, with a 

 crash was only a part of the rest. That fire 

 crept on and burned in spots, to be seen at 

 night, until the first rains, 5 weeks later. 

 When the worst was over, our beautiful 

 mountain was blackened and bare in large 

 patches, with a white crown its only glory. 

 Soon after that we went back to the 

 world of men, and only in dreams have we 

 seen our camp home since then; but the 

 memory of it only grows dearer as the 

 hope of seeing it again grows each year 

 less. 



AMATEUR PHOTO BY J. E. TVLOR. 



TO THE VICTOR BELONG THE SPOILS. 



One of the Special Prize Winners in Recreation's 7th Annual Photo Competition. 



Made with Manhattan Camera. 



