Amateur Movie Makers (Dec 1926-Dec 1927)

setting of mountain, glacier and forest, a perfect composition, something that is indeed rare in nature. It was noon when we rested from our labors. In the camera case we had several reels of movies. At least, we hoped we had them. Even an approximation would make us very happy. For our dreams had not been half so vivid as the reality itself. We were very tired as we prepared for our departure for the north of the Rockies. It was the emotional reaction, more than physical exertion that made us so weary. But a deep sense of calm also pervaded us. We had come, had seen, but had been conquered by the sheer beauty of this tiny, secluded spot. That night, as the train rolled northward to higher, rougher, more inaccessible peaks, we began to plan further camera activities. Work of a different type was ahead of us. Hard days on horse and a-foot were to be our lot. And, as we dropped off to sleep, we realized that a little movie camera, working with the precision of a jewelled clock, would preserve forever these gems of the Creator's handiwork which we would, in all probability, never visit again. Mountains to the right of us ! Mountains to the left of us ! We were overwhelmed by the sight of these tremendous. whiteheaded giants, as the staunch locomotive energetically pulled us up the long. winding grade to Emperor, way station for Berg Lake and mighty Mount Robson, monarch of all it surveyed. As the train came to a grinding halt, we anxiously scanned the platform for Stan, who was to conduct us on a four-day scenic camera hunt in this land of rugged splendor and beauty. How carefully we deposited our movie equipment in the buckboard, cautioning Stan to spare the whip, although not for a moment were we concerned about ourselves. Arriving at the ranch house, where we were to stay overnight, before we began our pony trail trip to higher altitudes at six the next morning, we were just in time to see the sunset on Mount Robson. The Alpen-glow, that exquisite, rose tint, was softly stealing up the glaciers on the mighty monarch's slope. It was but the work of a moment to unpack. Diaphragm was set. Iris adjusted, and color filter put in its holder just in time to record the swiftly moving color. In our minds we visualized the reproduction of scene on our film. How we would, on arrival home, try to approximate, by tint and tone, that beautiful color of glacier and sky. We were impatient for the morning to come, when we should ride to Berg Lake at the very foot of the mighty giant. I must confess that we did not sleep well that night. We kept the midnight oil burning while we planned sequences of scenes, made quick sketches in our notebook for composition, and the hundred and one things we knew would have to be considered the following day. At five in the morning, the whinnying of the horses in the corral brought us to our feet. Stan, having been greatly impressed the night >efore of the need for care, spent much time in loading our pack horse. Everything was packed for quick action ; tripod in the middle, camera in one saddle bag and accessories in the other. The sun had fully appeared by the time we started. Robson's hood was wreathed in clouds, a curtain as it were, readv to lift itself when we should be able to see it from another angle of the trail we were to take. It looked as if the stage had been prepared for us. As we crossed the old bridge over the glacial stream, swiftly flowing from a tiny lake hidden high up in the recesses of the mountains, a turn in the trail brought us to another view of the giant peak. How majestic it was. with its stark, white cap set against a background of deepest azure hue. As the sun rose higher in the heavens the trail became steeper and narrower. As we came to the top of a rise, below us lay Kinney Lake, in its shimmering, glacial green, inviting us to record its moods. More thoughts of tinting and toning filled our minds. If we could only approximate it we would be satisfied. Since we were now at the thirty-five hundred foot level. I realized that we should begin to compensate for the thinner atmosphere by slightly cutting down the exposure. How glad I was that I had stayed up the night before so that I would be preoared for all such things. Soon we forded our first stream. We were going along the floor of a huge, gravelly flat, hemmed in on all sides by towering peaks, with Robson. still in view, above them all. A short way ahead of us we saw the (Continued on page 39) LAKE ADOLPHUS If Mother Nature Is A Vain Old Hussy This Mirror Justifies The Lady Nineteen