THE AUDUBON BULLETIN 
1933 
Incidentally, of Birds 
By ‘Tappan GREGORY 
Thursday, October 13, 1932. We are headed north once more, bound 
for the pine woods of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. ‘The season is late 
but what matters that when tomorrow we should be safely ensconced in a 
snug cabin on the shore of Lake Superior? ‘This is a country of magic 
memories, whose mystic enchantment loses nothing of its benign influence 
by the passage of time or the vagaries of weather. We have an objective— 
to photograph wild animals—and the fact that Bob Sturgis is new to this 
game, as well as to the country, sharpens the keenness of our anticipation. 
Once the wheels of the old Northwestern Iron and Copper Express 
start to roll, I am possessed of the same exhilaration which has accom- 
panied me on similar trips year after year during the past thirty-five years. 
Now, for the next few weeks, we may forget the turmoil of the city and 
enjoy the ever rejuvenating and soul-satisfying contact with the great 
north woods and its citizens, purposely mindful of the unalterable rule 
that the pleasures of anticipation frequently leap far head of the actual 
joys of realization. 
We sit and chat in the smoking compartment, talking until late at 
night of how we should set our cameras. Perhaps this time we may induce 
the coveted bobcat to cross our trip wire, or outmaneuver the sly red fox. 
Maybe even a big gray timber wolf will so far relax as to leave us its 
image. We minimize the inevitable run of skunk, mouse, and bird pictures 
which sober thought must tell us will constitute a large percentage of our 
results. I plead guilty to seeking primarily photographs of mammals rather 
than birds. I can only suggest in extenuation that most of the mammals 
are crepuscular or nocturnal in habit and therefore perhaps more difficult 
to record with a camera than are the birds. 
October 14. Most of the leaves are still on the trees. “Their colors 
make bright spots on the hillsides. “Today we must look over the ground 
and determine the most likely spots for our sets. “There is a Loon floating 
around on the surface of Rush Lake, the hoarse croak of a Raven carries 
to us from the far shore and here, out in the middle of an old deserted 
beaver pond, high up on a dead tree, a few Pine Siskins sound like myriads. 
A Pileated Woodpecker calls with his strident note. He is at the tiptop 
of a tall tree, silhouetted against the sky. Apparently the Ruffed Grouse 
are reestablishing themselves, “They flush before us at every turn. 
