28 WILD LIFE AND THE CAMERA 



their suspicions will be aroused and the chance of 

 securing pictures greatly reduced. It is only when 

 they are absolutely off their guard and unsuspicious 

 that one has any chance with them. To-day the 

 wind is favourable but bitterly cold. Unfortunately 

 the light is bad, but then that seems to be the rule 

 at this time of the year in Newfoundland, bright 

 days being rather the exception. My blind, or 

 gaze, as the Newfoundlanders call it, is a simple 

 affair composed of about a dozen small fir trees 

 stuck securely into the bog, arranged in a circle 

 open at the southern end ; on the north side, facing 

 the leads, the branches are cut away, leaving an 

 opening through which the camera protrudes. The 

 selection of a desirable site for the blind is of the 

 greatest importance ; it should control as many 

 leads as possible, the prevailing direction of the 

 wind must be considered, the sun must be from the 

 back, the background should compose well, and 

 there should be no obstructions in the foreground. 

 Inside the blind everything should be arranged so 

 that no dry twigs will rub against one's clothing, 

 for the slightest noise may cause the loss of a 

 picture. A number of well-worn leads or paths 

 pass on each side of the blind I have made, some 

 only a few feet away, others two or three hundred 

 feet. All the conditions are such that if the Caribou 

 come I shall be almost certain to get pictures. 



The day wears on, but not a Caribou appears. I 

 have been doing some sketching, but the cold wind 

 makes the work very trying. The afternoon is 

 particularly dark and unpleasant, and as it is nearly 

 four o'clock I shall head for camp without having 



