THE WILD LIFE OF LAKE SUPERIOR 



17 



in the affair was not particularly notice- 

 able to at least one member of the party. 



Opening the cover of the jack-light 

 and turning the rays toward the stern, 

 the sight of Jake in a state of hilarity, 

 with a superabundance expressed by 

 whacking the paddle on the water in 

 rhythm with each outburst, I gave an 

 upward pull on the already-elevated bow 

 of the canoe, and down went the stern 

 to the bottom, only Jake's eyes showing 

 above the surface, stifling every sound 

 except a little spluttering. 



As Jake struggled to his feet, a grin- 

 ning countenance showed his willingness 

 to take good-naturedly this somewhat 

 rude form of reprisal. In a few minutes 

 the boat was ashore, the water removed, 

 and the camera found on a near-by sand- 

 bar. While returning, my now sympa- 

 thetic assistant attempted a diversion by 

 pointing out in graphic language how 

 surprised the deer must have been "when 

 the moon blew up," but the monologue 

 was not interrupted. 



A SUCCESSFUL FLASHLIGHT APPARATUS 



IS DEVISED 



In the succeeding months experiments 

 were made with a new powder, called 

 Blitz-pulver, a compound possessing 

 great brilliancy and rapidity, and only 

 requiring an apparatus that could be 

 quickly and safely handled to insure satis- 

 factory results. 



Sportsmanlike, the idea of a pistol 

 flashlight then suggested itself. 



During the winter I had made a tin 

 box an inch deep and seven by four 

 inches wide, containing an iron bed-plate 

 on which a spring-actuated firing-pin 

 could be released by a trigger beneath 

 the box, vising for ignition a capped, but 

 empty, pistol cartridge, which extended 

 through an upright shoulder far enough 

 to penetrate an opening in a pill-box con- 

 taining half an ounce of powder. 



This contrivance, when tested, showed 

 it could be fired with the quickness and 

 certainty of a gun, the strong metal bed- 

 plate protecting the hand when the ma- 

 chine was held overhead. 



On next returning to camp in the sum- 

 mer of 1891, I found that Jake would be 

 occupied several months building a hunt- 

 ing cabin for a relative of mine on a 

 little lake several miles to the west: so 



the next experiment had to be tried with 

 a different paddler in the stern. 



Fortunately, a good substitute was at 

 hand, for some years previously I had 

 employed, occasionally about the camp, 

 but more frequently in fishing along the 

 shore, a Norwegian named John Ham- 

 mer. Although a machinist by occupa- 

 tion, since coming to this country, in the 

 early eighties, his racial fondness for the 

 water led his employers to take him on 

 camping trips, where his expertness as 

 an oarsman, a paddler, or in running a 

 naphtha launch finally led him to act as a 

 guide during the summer and fall months. 



Sending for John, I explained that he 

 was to take on a novel occupation, that 

 of "a flashlight guide," and for an in- 

 definite period, little anticipating his con- 

 tinuance in that capacity to the present 

 date, a period of more than thirty years 

 and covering expeditions throughout 

 much of the northern continent. 



John accepted this invitation with sur- 

 prising cheerfulness, for in those days 

 the idea of using a camera instead of a 

 gun did not take very well with most 

 guides, who naturally thought that in 

 hunting big game there should be some- 

 thing more substantial to show than the 

 image of what, in the flesh, represented a 

 fine stew or roast. 



Perhaps part of the explanation lay in 

 the fact that at his own former home in 

 Christiania he had served as an apprentice 

 in an optical works and had always felt 

 a considerable interest in photography, 

 thereby viewing his new duties with a 

 seriousness and appreciation speaking 

 well for my future efforts. 



One night about the middle of July, 

 in the following year, the new apparatus 

 was put into the canoe and a start made 

 up the river under the confident belief 

 of a greater measure of success than had 

 heretofore fallen to my lot. 



THIC FTRST SUCCESSFUL FLASHLIGHT OF A 

 DFFR 



On the way to the lake several deer 

 bounded off, but too far away for a pic- 

 ture. Passing along without looking for 

 any animals in the reeds, as the open 

 shore of the slough afforded a less ob- 

 structed view, we entered it with no idea 

 of seeing a deer for several hundred 

 yards, and were, therefore, surprised on 



