International photographer (Jan-Dec 1934)

Thirty-two The INTERNATIONAL PHOTOGRAPHER December, 1934 W XGCXXS By JOHN LEEZER Pinch Hitting for Charles P. Boyle ("Otto Focus") MWCf"' I wasn't workin' in the picture, but Sam, my son-inlaw, was goin' to direct it an' he wanted me to go along on location up in the mountains. So I did. They was goin' to make a "Horse Opera" with a stampede of cattle in it. Sam told me that "horse opera" wasn't singin' horses but just another name for a Western picture. Never saw a stampede but couldn't figure out how they was goin' to have it in the mountains. Sam explained that if they had the stampede in the timber, they wouldn't have to have so many cattle. Twentyfive, he figured, would make it look like the woods was alive with 'em. As I said before, I never saw a stampede but I have always had an idee that the cattle gallopin' 'round over the western plains was not the same kind we used to let the bars down for, night an' mornin', back on the farm. That is, I figured they was all gentlemen cows, or had been, but these animals that Sam had was all supplied with milk reservoirs. Another thing that I reckoned about a stampede was that the critters takin' part in it ought to be hittin' 'round 20 or 25 miles an hour, but they couldn't get these Holsteins an' Jerseys out of a walk, an' no two of 'em in the same direction at the same time. They tried to scarce 'em with red flags, roman candles, dogs an' firecrackers, but no stampede. An' Sam's goat got loose but that didn't start 'em either. They hadn't started up to lunch time, but while we was settin' 'round eatin', there was a loud snort back in the woods an' then that bunch of onery critters, with their tails in the air, come tearin' down right past the fotografin' machine. Sam was so flabbergasted that he couldn't say a thing an' besides his mouth was full of gooseberry pie, that bein' the handiest place to put it when the stampede come. But as soon as he could, he broadcast to the world that he would give $5 to know what scared 'em. As everybody else wanted to know the same thing, it wasn't long before we was headin' in the direction the dairy had come from. A little red-headed feller was leadin' the procession an' he was soon out of sight in the brush. But he didn't stay there very long. Never heard an Indian yell, but that little feller must have given a pretty good imitation, an' then we saw him comin'. He was hittin' the ground only about every third jump 'an' yellin' "It's a bear! It's a bear!" Sounded somethin' like a song I heard on a grafafone a long time ago. Everybody felt like runnin' but as no bear showed up, nobody started. The imitation blonde leadin' lady wanted to know if he had really seen a bear. "Look!" says he in a weak voice, an' sure enough, out comes a real live bear — the first one I had ever seen outside a cage. Well, the trees was too big to climb but there was plenty of room to run in an' I reckon there would have been some hoofin' records smashed then an' there, if the cameryman they called George, hadn't spoke up an' says, "Hold on folks, I know that bear." "What do you mean, you know the bear?" says Sam. "Why I have worked with her in pictures before," says George, an' he went over to meet the animated rug. The critter seemed glad to see him an' before long we was all edgin' up just to be sociable like. George reckoned that some other movin' picture company had been usin' the bear somewhere about there an' that she had got tired of 'em. "Well, anyhow," says Sam, "as soon as we get the cattle back we'll make the stampede." P. S. — But they never got the "cattle" back. SCIENTIFIC NOTE The scientific outfit of Prof. Otto Focus stops for luncheon enroute on another expedition to explore the Los Angeles River. Please mention The International Photographer when corresponding with advertisers.