162 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



[March 27, 1884. 



AMATEUR PHOTOGRAPHY. 

 A TANY of the readers of Forest and Stream will no 

 - 1 - A doubt take with them on their summer tour or vaca- 

 tion a camera. Those who expect to do so should purchase 

 it now, and devote some time to practice, before going into 

 the field to take views. The experience gained in this way 

 will be of great value to them., saving many failures, and 

 enabling them to bring home a good set of views, instead of 

 a lot of plates, whicb, through the lack of knowledge of the 

 operator, may. when developed, produce results altogether 

 unsatisfactory. 



There are plenty of boous devoted to the subject of Ama- 

 teur Photography, and the beginner will, of course, study 

 them for information on the subject. The following re- 

 marks are intended merely to give certain hints, which are 

 not found in the books. The trouble with such volumes 

 usually is, that they are written by professional photograph- 

 ers, to whom the busjness is an old story, and who, because 

 they know all about it, take too much for granted, and 

 assume that the minute details of the work are known to 

 every one. They are not simple enough. The writer is an 

 amateur, self-taught, and hopes, by mentioning some of the 

 difficulties which he has encountered, to help the readers to 

 avoid or conquer them. Ashe is writing entirely for be- 

 ginners, some definition of the terras used may be given. 

 The 



Leas is the disc of glass at the back of the tube, through 

 which the light reaches the glass plate, which receives the 

 picture. The 



Tube is the metal cylinder, through which the light comes 

 to the lens, its purpose heing to keep out all side lights, and 

 to admit only those from directly in front of the lens. The 



Gap is the covering for the open end of the tube, by the 

 application of which all light is excluded from tbe camera. 

 The 



Drop is a cap, perforated with a small hole in its center, and 

 closing with a spring. The 



Ground glass is a plate of this material in a frame at the 

 back of the camera box. It receives the image of the picture 

 through the lens, and the operator, by looking at this reflec- 

 tion, is enabled to decide whether his instrument is properly 

 focussed or not. The 



Camera is the box with bellows and slide, and when ready 

 for use has the lens in position in front and the ground glass 

 at the back. The 



Tripod is the frame of three jointed legs, on top of which 

 the camera rests and revolves. The 



Plate holder is a light-tight frame, into which the plates are 

 put for the purpose of exposing. The 



Shields are slides, usually of pasteboard or thin wood, which 

 cover the plates when in the holder. 



Since the lens forms the basis of all good pictures it is of 

 the utmost importance to get a good one. It is much better 

 to spend money on this, rather than in procuring a showy 

 outfit. With a cheap, camera but a good lens, you can get 

 excellent results, and the lens can be used for a camera of 

 different size, if you should wish at any time to 

 take larger views. When you have obtained your instru- 

 ment, and know how to put it together and take it to 

 pieces, it will be well to go out of doors and learn to set up 

 and take down your camera, so as to be able to set it up on a 

 level, or square. The base line of the picture should be 

 parallel to the lower margin of the plate. Practice looking 

 through the instrument at the landscape, and be careful to 

 get a good proportion of sky, fore and back ground. Face 

 the instrument to the view you wish to take, put the ground 

 glass in position at the back of the camera, and then look 

 through it, covering the head and back of the instrument 

 with a dark cloth, so as to exclude all light except that which 

 enters through the tube. Looking toward the light before 

 you, you will see on the ground glass the picture that you 

 wisb to take. If you should see nothing, slide the back of 

 camera— and so the ground glass— backward or forward 

 until "you do see the image. Then adjust the camera by a 

 screw in the position in which the image appears most dis- 

 tinct. This is called focussing, and is the same operation 

 which you go through when you use an opera glass. In 

 focussing, always select some definite, distinct object, and 

 be sure that this object is sharply defined on the ground 

 glass. Now move the camera on the. tripod to right or left, 

 still looking through the ground glass with the head and in- 

 strument covered with a dark cloth, so as to exclude all 

 light except that which enters through the tube. Observe 

 the effect of the shadows and the light, and you will very 

 likely find that by taking in some additional object or 

 through the changes of light you will have a much better 

 picture than in the first position. The light often strikes 

 the angles of a house in such a way as to make the shadows 

 very dark, and to spoil what would be a very good picture 

 if taken in a different position. Never face your camera so 

 that the sun will shine into the tube, for this will throw the 

 shadows in the wrong direction. Deep shadows and bright 

 objects do not time well together in the same view. The 

 exposure will be too short for one, and too long for the other. 



In taking off the cap, do it quickly, but without jarring the 

 instrument, and carry the hand down and toward the tripod, 

 not out in front. In returning it, catch the tube on the lower 

 side first. When the drop is used, no discretion as to time 

 can be exercised, but as the drop can be used only in a strong 

 light, you often have to work with the cap. It is necessary, 

 then, to time the exposure, and as it is not always convenient 



to hold a watch, you should learn to count by seconds. With 

 a little practice you can learn to count accurately. Not one 

 in fifty can do so without practice. The time for exposure 

 depends on the strength of the light, the rapidity of tbe 

 plates, the time of day and the time of the year. From 9 

 o'clock to 4, in the bright days of summer, the light is 

 stronger than at the same hours in winter. The reflection on 

 the ground glass will enable you to judge of the strength of 

 the light. If the objpets come out. strong and clear, the light 

 is better than when the objects are dim. If the plate is ex- 

 posed for a sufficient time, say twenty to thirty seconds, a 

 picture can be taken, even though the reflection on the glass 

 is scarcely to be seen; but when the colors and objects are 

 bright, a flash of light through the lens is all that is required 

 with the instantaneous plates. It requires judgment and 

 practice, therefore, to time the exposure. 



To test this, place a plate in the camera. Eemove the 

 shield next to the lens, cap and uncap as quickly as possible. 

 Now push the shield about one-third of tbe way into the 

 holder, and expose the plate, according to your judgment, 

 and cap; push the shield in a little further, making two- 

 thirds of the way in, and expose say one second and cap. 

 Now push the shield into position, and you have a plate ex- 

 posed to three different spaces of time, the longest time being 

 at the small end of holder. Develop until the picture begins 

 to sink, and, after fixing, you can then judge which part 

 was timed correctly. The instantaneous plates are the best 

 for general use, as they can be used with either the drop or 

 cap. When you have become accustomed to timing them, 

 do not change the kind of plate that you have been using, as 

 al! your experience will be lost and will avail you nothing 

 with a slow plate — that is, as to time required for exposure. 



Mark your shields "exposed," and when you put the plates 

 into the holder, have that side of shield next to the plate. 

 After exposing the plate, turn the shield and put it into the 

 holder with the word outside. By this plan, you will not 

 forget that the plate has been exposed, and will not take, or 

 attempt to t ike, two pictures on the same plate, when they 

 are only made for one. 



When away from your base, or in camp, it is not neces- 

 sary to have a ruby fight, unless you want to develop your 

 plates. Try this J dan. In the daytime or with any light, 

 place your shields in the holders with the word "exposed" in. 

 side. Cut the paper that confines the cover on your box of 

 plates, then put the box and holders on some board, or on 

 your bed, where you can work. When it is dark, take out the 

 shields to holder, by feeling, then remove a plate from the 

 box with the right hand, not touching the face of the plate, 

 but holding the edges between the thumb and fingers. 

 Then, with the thumb of the left hand, scratch the corner of 

 the plate. If that is the film side, it will chip; if the glass 

 side, the nail will slip. Take the slide in the left hand and 

 put the plate into it with the film side out. Keep the box 

 and the mats, and return the plates to the box with mats 

 between them after exposing. Wrap the box in paper, and 

 develop at your leisure. Never remove an undeveloped 

 plate except in the dark — not even in the moonlight — or in a 

 ruby light. 



Plates can be put in or taken out of holders in a dark 

 closet in daytime, if no light is allowed to touch them. 



Owing to the suction of the water and the smooth surface 

 of the bottom of tin developing trays, plates often stick, and 

 are difficult to remove from tray. This can be avoided by 

 making two or three slight dents, made from the under 

 side, in the bottom. You will then be able to get the 

 finger under the plate and remove it easily. Always keep 

 your lens well protected from the dust, and be careful not to 

 scratch it. Dust it off with a fine brush or by blowing on 

 it; never rub with cloth or paper. 



The following is one of tne latest and best formulas for 

 developing: 



A— Pure carbonate of potash (free from chloride) . 90 parts. 



Water ; 200 



B— Pyrogallic acid 12 " 



Sulphite of soda 25 



Citric acid 1% " 



AVater 100 



To develop a 5x8 or smaller plate, to three ounces of 

 water add sixty drops each of A and B. If a stronger con- 

 trast, deeper shadows, are required, drop a few drops of B 

 into your graduated glass and pour the developer in your tray 

 into glass and return to tray. Never add a strong chemical 

 to that in the tray, as it does not get well mixed. When you 

 use the developer for the second plate, if you find you have 

 too much of B, add say half the quantity of water to tray. 

 You can get good results up to six ounces of water. 



Unlike the ammonia formulas, this is not unpleasant to 

 use in a confined room, and will not fog the plate. The 

 chemicals can be bad dry, and the water added when re- 

 quired. 



"The Antelope and Deer of America."— The eager- 

 ness with which sportsmen are calling for Judge Caton's 

 work on the North American deer, shows very clearly how 

 large a proportion of those who enjoy the noble sport of big- 

 game hunting desire to pursue this sport intelligently. It is 

 an axiom that the man who is most successful as a hunter or 

 angler will be he who is most familiar with the habits of the 

 game or fish which he pursues. Most of our readers appre- 

 ciate this, and since our reduction ©f the price of this book 

 has brought it within the reach of all, we are not surprised 

 to find the demand for it very large and constantly in- 

 creasing. 



JortmtjHn §['0nri$L 



BETWEEN THE LAKES. 



Eighth Paper. 



BY THE GREEK PROFESSOR. 



IT was a beautiful moraine; when the Judge and the Pro- 

 fessor came out from their tent, yawning and rubbing 

 their eyes, and with an indescribable's^nse of rest in every 

 bone and muscle, such as comes to him who breathes the 

 pure air of Superior. Beautiful! Would that I could de- 

 scribe the scene that met our eves as we stood at the door 

 of our tent that still July morning. In front of us stretched 

 the calm blue waters of Superior, broken only by that swell 

 whose outline is beauty, and by that hushed foil and sob on 

 the beach that is music to the ear. The air never was 

 clearer, and the blue of the lake and the blue of the sky 

 seemed bluer because of that perfect sea of transparency 

 that lay between them. 



Five miles to our left, projecting into a long curve of the 

 lake, was the Grand Portal, the most magnificent of the 

 Pictured Rocks. The sun shone with marvelous splendor 

 on the eastern side of this great portal, opening to our view 

 the huge cavern in its depths, although we were miles away. 

 I gazed with astonishment, for the unseen hands of that 

 strangely clear morning seemed to have lifted, and borne 

 toward us, the massive rock, till it appeared scarcely a mile 

 away. In the distance gleamed the white speck of a sail- 

 boat. Perhaps some of our friends from Munising were 

 coming on a fraternal visit and fish. But the Judge was 

 impatient and the boat at least an hour away. Our excur- 

 sion had been planned for days, and we would not delay on 

 an uncertainty. The Judge drew his goid spectacles astride 

 his nose, frowned ominously, and wrote on a pine board 

 this legend, "Gone two miles south of Beaver Lake, trouting," 

 and placed it on the table— the first place the strangers would 

 seek. 



With jerked venison and biscuit in our wallets, and shot- 

 gun, rods and hatchet in our hands, we wended our way to 

 the bluff on the south side of Beaver Lake. How calm and 

 placid lay the little lake in the virgin bosom of that forest 

 green. To the south the unbroken swell of the green rose 

 till the far-away hilltop seemed kissed by the blue of the 

 sky. In the midst of this rising mass of unbroken forest 

 a ravine seemed to wind its way, trending gently toward 

 the south and west, and in this ravine we doubted not the 

 waters of the creeks we were going to explore found their 

 way into Beaver Lake. 



A quarter of an hour's brisk exercise with the paeldle 

 brought us to the south shore of the lake. The bottom 

 along this shore is seen distinctly through the clear water, 

 and at times is almost pure yellowish white sand mingled 

 with coarser gravel ; at other times the gravel changes to 

 boulders and large stones, and next we glide over an inter- 

 val as smooth and solid as a marble floor, for here the smooth 

 sandstone is washed clear of all debris. For a goodly dis- 

 tance the bank along this shore is about a yard in height 

 above the level of the water. Portions of this bank to tne 

 very water's brink are thickly set with white cedar trees, 

 some standing erect and others leaning far over the bosom 

 of the sparkling waters. Other portions of the bank, when 

 viewed from the distance of a few hundred yards, look as 

 if a solid wall of rock had been raised a yard high by the 

 masterly skill of the mason, but, on nearer approach, you 

 find it a wall ©f boulders as large as a man's head, laid with 

 great regularity and evenness by the hand of those great 

 storms from the northwest which so frequently heave the 

 bosom of this little inland lake. But all at once an excla- 

 mation came from the Judge: 



"A deer!" 



"Where?" said the Professor. 



"To the west of us, just around the point and the dipping 

 cedars," was the calm reply of the Judge. 



"Get your gun ready and I will bring you near enough 

 to get a shot," and his pole grated on the sand and the boat 

 shot forward steadily, and the Professor held his gun in a 

 firm grasp. But the story has been told, and with only such 

 embellishments as the Judge's long experience in the intri- 

 cate windings and technicalities of law would logically ne- 

 cessitate. Suffice it to say that with the deer in the boat. 

 ami the boat upon the bank among the cedars, and compass 

 in hand the Juelge and the Professor were soon moving due 

 south. 



A quarter of a mile of dense white cedar being passed 

 with great difficulty and toil, we found ourselves at the foot 

 of the bluff and the beginning of the hard wood timber. 

 As we climbed the hills, now following the windings of 

 ravines as often as they bore in the direction whither we 

 were going, and now following the narrow but well-trodden 

 runway of the deer, we often paused to admire the beauty 

 of this virgin forest, and to stand in amazement beneath the 

 high-reaching branches of some hoary denizen of the woods. 

 How beautiful and smooth and shapely were the beeches, 

 and how the birches reached upward toward the light. And 

 maples! such maples. In my boyhood in Indiana I thought 

 I had seen the prince of sugar trees, but never have I looked 

 up into such towering and wide-spreading sugar tree tops as 

 I did that morning. The memory of tfee yision of those 

 large maples haunts me to-night in my study. There were 

 hut few of the exceeding large ones, many of the beautiful 

 smaller ones. After, perhaps, a half mile of rolling land, 

 the Judge in front struck one of the wiklest and thickest 

 swamps we ever saw. The undergrowth was small, but as 

 thick as the quills on the back of that porcupine which the 

 Judge did not kill in the miduight watches. Rod by rod the 

 Judge hewed his way into tbe midst of the tangle, throwing 

 the half severed saplings to the right and the left until, almost 

 befoie we were aware of it, we were on the banks of the 

 first branch of the creek we sought, It might almost be 

 said upon the creek, for it was scarcely more than eighteen 

 inches wide, and about as deep, and frequently, for a few 

 feet, would vanish under the roots and moss of the swamp. 

 The water was clear, cold and sweet, and fishing it for a few 

 rods some very prettily marked, though small, trout were 

 taken. Leaving this creek, and still pressing toward the 

 south, the Judge, still puffing and panting, emerged from 

 the swamp and rejoiced to move on more easily over the 

 rolling hard wood timber land. Mingled with the hard- 

 wood here were some giant white pines, lifting their skeK toa 

 arms high above the surrounding forest, for they were dead. 

 I could but pause beneath them and look up and wonder 

 what vicissitudes of human life they could tell of if they 

 had speech. Others again were green in a vigorous old age, 

 and here and there were groups of large hemlock, the largest 

 trees in the neighborhood excepting the pines, 



