N3!Yd%YI&-¥MV2Sa l JO 7? AM™#? 
ing upon the original straight before his eyes, 
or to the right or left, for the wondrous beautv 
is everywhere, upon every hand, in the early 
hours of the day, at high noon, or when the low 
rays of the evening sun seem to give a still 
different force and volume to the hues and 
forms. 
To the man who has “eyes with which to 
see”—the true lover of nature’s wonderful pig¬ 
ment secrets—a trip “down the Flambeau” when 
the autumn surroundings are favorable, there 
will be revealed such prospects as probably 
were never before seen, and a royal display, 
not for a moment, or period of time marked by 
a day, or even a number of days. For a week, 
or even two, the experience may be enjoyed 
and the chances are more than even that the 
artistic—call it esthetic, if you please—side of 
one’s self will be so strongly awakened as to 
render sacrifice the rod and gun. The appeal 
of game is null and void under such circum- 
stances. 
We thought that perhaps there would be a 
couple of days or so of such color exhibit, bas¬ 
ing the prediction on former experiences at 
about the same time of year when dull and 
gloomy days were the rule, or intervening often 
enough to prevent the full and perfect evolution 
of leaf. But no! not this time. Beginning with 
Sept. 25 (the writer and a companion preceded 
the four others of the party by five days) there 
was, in the Flambeau region, two weeks of 
most glorious sunlight days, almost without a 
cloud in sight at any time, and with a very 
gradual upward trend in temperature each suc¬ 
ceeding day, following a series of heavy frosts 
earlier. Each day seemed to vie with the one 
before in brightness of sun and gentleness of 
temperature, and it may readily be conceived 
that such elemental environment constituted the 
very acme of perfection in the after-glows pro¬ 
duced upon leaf and vine. It was well worth 
waiting a number of years to see, and well 
could we all afford to ignore the plump par¬ 
tridge and the lusty muskie and sit quite spell¬ 
bound for hours of a day, for days of a week, 
while such a nature’s canvas was being un¬ 
rolled before us. We could only feast our eyes 
upon the scene and exclaim anon. 
Every mother’s son returned from that trip 
almost gameless, but with what an abundant 
compensation therefor! “Game is ephemeral,” 
“We can get fish and birds any old time,” “Let 
us mentally ‘eat and drink’ these scenes, for to¬ 
morrow we die,” and other expressions from 
members of the party plainly signified that the 
wild life of the woods and waters were secondary 
—distinctly so—to the wild, weird, sublime 
). ath tinctures of the incircling foliage. 
Next time we will go to fish and shoot, but 
tlrs one year will always stand out as a pilgrim¬ 
age to one of nature’s choicest, purest, most 
primeval color factories working full time in 
its highest perfection of harmony and most 
exalted degree of creative genius. 
G. H. C. 
A. C. A. Membership. 
NEW MEMBER ELECTED. 
Atlantic Division.—5922, John E. Horn, 
Bordentown, N. J. 
life member. 
No. 87 (A. C. A. 5919), Edgar J. Williams, 
New York city. 
ASSOCIATE MEMBER DECEASED. 
No. 167, Miss Dorothea A. Reichert, New 
York city. 
Many of our members will pleasantly remem¬ 
ber Miss Reichert in connection with several of 
the Sugar Island camps, and she will be missed 
by all who there had the privilege of her ac¬ 
quaintance. 
The Forest and Stream may be obtained from 
any newsdealer on order. Ask your dealer to 
supply you regularly. 
A TIGHT SQUEEZE. 
SCENE ON THE FLAMBEAU RIVER. 
competent to the successful effort. The artist s 
brush notoriously falls short of depicting the 
beauties of Nature’s leafy garb; the camera is 
quite without value except to give the merest 
hint; then how can it be possible for printed 
words to convey to the mind’s eye anything 
more than a suggestion of the riot of color 
that prevails in the still north woods in 
October, when the seasonal conditions have 
properly conspired? Any man can sit at ease 
and feast his eyes upon incomparably beautiful 
forest scenes that float slowly by, but who has 
the power, by descriptive language, to repro¬ 
duce the same—to make others see them in 
similar way? I freely admit that I cannot, yet 
have the audacity to make the attempt—an at¬ 
tempt, however, that must remain suggestive 
only. 
There are the various shades of green belong¬ 
ing to the different varieties of deciduous trees, 
then in between, surrounding and interjecting 
in a hundred different settings are the flambeau 
colors of the maples and oaks and the modified 
tinctures of many other hard wood species. 
But the reds and yellows—the goldens and 
browns, crimsons and magentas—of the maples 
in all the gradations of color possible by the 
mystic brush of nature, stand out fiercely, 
strikingly, beautifully. Here a stately giant 
pine holding aloft its bushy, darkly-sheenish 
canopy of green, while nestling to one side a 
soft maple seemingly afire with the brilliancy 
of its hues, and upon the other hand a delicate 
spread of yellow and yellowish-red fanning out 
to the sun a beauty that cannot be written. 
Then the very next picture, as one gently glides 
down the stream, is totally variant with the 
same predominant pigments, and thus the 
kaleidoscopic changes are rung on, moment 
after moment, hour after hour, no two views 
being even similar in detail, while the general 
tonal effect at times modifies or heightens, ac¬ 
cording to the angle of observation, the stat° of 
the liquid foreground or the sky and cloud in¬ 
fluences above. 
One can get autumn colorations galore in a 
village street, on almost any hillside. One can 
see a succession of foliage color schemes lrom 
a railway train, from an afternoon drive o- 
auto spin, or from a paddle along the shores 
of some quiet lake. But the hand of man then 
so often, and so often repellantly, appears as 
to mar the design, and there lacks the ever- 
recurring change, while holding fast to the 
original virginity of nature, and there lacks also 
the duplication afforded by the surface of al¬ 
ternate pools of still, pure, seemingly polished 
water. 
For miles and miles, and practically without 
any interruption in the scene, one may travel 
by boat over northern Wisconsin streams view¬ 
ing either the water-mirrored picture, or feast¬ 
