"Oh, I'm so frightened!" cried Ruth. "Don't be alarmed!" Russ called to her, while he continued to grind away at the camera. "He won't hurt you. This will make a dandy picture! I'm going to film the deer." "Oh, but suppose he jabs me with his horns?" wailed Ruth, who was not quite so alarmed now. "They are terribly sharp." "Don't worry!" Russ answered. "This is coming out great. The deer was just the one thing needed to make this film a success." "Then I won't spoil it by coming in now!" called Paul, who was keeping out of the focus of the camera by crouching down behind some bushes. He had heard what Russ said, and had given up his plan of rushing to rescue Ruth. Evidently there was no need. The deer, strange to say, did not seem at all alarmed, and stood gazing at Ruth with great She first "registered" fear, and then delighted surprise, at seeing the animal. I might explain that in making moving pictures certain directions are given to the actors. As they can not depend on speaking words to let the audiences know what is going on, they must intimate, by appropriate gesture, or facial expression, the action of the play. This is called "registering," and when in the directions, or scenario, an actor or actress is told to "register" fear, surprise, anger, love, jealousy—in fact any of the emotions—he or she knows what is meant. In this case Ruth was without specific directions save those called out by Russ. And often, in an emergency a good moving picture camera operator can save a film from being spoiled by improvising some "stage directions," if I may call them such. "Shall I approach him, Russ?" Ruth asked, as she saw that the deer showed no intentions of fleeing. "Yes, if he'll let you. It will make a dandy scene." "Not too close," cautioned Paul, who was still "I'll be careful," answered Ruth. "I believe the poor thing is hungry." "If we only had something to feed him!" exclaimed Russ. "That would work in fine." "I have some lumps of sugar," said Ruth, speaking with her head turned aside. The reason for this was that she did not want the movement of her lips to show on the film, and the camera will catch and fix even that slight motion. The reason Ruth spoke aside was because the little scene was being improvised, and she had no proper lines to speak. And, as I have already explained, often persons in the audience of a moving picture theatre are able to understand what is said, merely by watching the lips of the performers on the screen. "Sugar! Good!" cried Russ. "See if he'll take it. I don't know what deer like best, but if they're anything like horses they'll revel in sugar. Go ahead!" Ruth had in her pocket some lumps she had intended giving to the horses attached to the sleds in which they had come to the woods. She now took out some of these and held them out to the timid deer. The beautiful creature, made bold, perhaps, by hunger, came a step nearer. "Oh, that's fine!" cried Russ, squinting through the focusing tube to get clear, sharp impressions on the film. "Keep at it, Ruth." The deer came nearer, thrusting forth its velvet nose. It sniffed at the sugar Ruth held, and then put out its lips and tongue and picked up the lumps. "Fine!" cried Russ. "Maybe he'd like salt better, for I've read of salt-licks that animals visit, but sugar will do on a pinch; won't it, old fellow?" Perhaps it was the loud, laughing voice that Russ used, or it may have been because there was no more sugar, but, at any rate, the deer, after taking the sweet lumps gave a sudden turn, and rushed off through the bushes, going rather slowly because of the deep snow. Russ caught every motion of the graceful creature, however, and called out to Ruth to pose with her hand shaded over her eyes, as though she were looking after the deer. She did this, and that ended the little scene with the timid woodland creature, who, if he ever saw moving pictures, would doubtless be very much surprised to perceive a presentment of himself on the screen. "Come on now, Paul!" called Russ, indicating to the young actor to show himself so that he would get into the picture. The other players who had come up on hearing Ruth call out were now ready for their parts in the play. They had kept out of sight of the camera, however, so as not to spoil the picture. "Very well done!" declared Mr. Pertell, when Ruth had finished her part in the play. "That deer will make a very effective picture, I think." "It was a dear deer!" punned Alice, and the others laughed. On the way back to Elk Lodge the manager made an announcement that interested all in the company, the young people especially. "I have a drama," he said, "that calls for a coasting race in one scene. I wonder if we couldn't do that to-morrow." "Oh, riding down hill!" cried Alice, with girlish enthusiasm. "What fun! May I steer a bob?" "Alice, you never could!" cried Ruth. "Pooh! I've done it lots of times!" her sister answered. "Yes, when you were a little girl, perhaps, with two sleds held together," laughed Mr. Pertell. "This will be different. Mr. Macksey tells "Me for a bob!" cried Paul. "I wish I didn't have to film the play—I'd steer one, too!" exclaimed Russ, with a look at Ruth that made her blush. "Must I get into this silly coasting play?" asked Mr. Bunn. "You surely must," answered Mr. Pertell. "And I want to warn you of one thing—you are not to wear a high hat—it would only blow off and embarrass you." "Not wear my high hat? Then I refuse to take part!" cried the tragic actor. But Mr. Pertell paid no attention to him, for he had heard the same thing before. The details of the coasting race were discussed on the way to Elk Lodge, and it was arranged that a partial rehearsal should be held next day. That night, as Alice and Ruth were going to bed rather early, on account of the wearying "Listen!" warned Alice, raising her finger, for Ruth was talking. "It's Mr. and Mrs. Macksey," said Ruth. "I know. But what are they saying? It's something about those strange hunters who were seen about here once before." Mr. Macksey, who had been summoned to the upper hall by his wife to fix a broken window, was speaking in his deep voice. "So those fellows were around again; eh?" he asked. "Yes, and I don't like it, Jake," Mrs. Macksey replied. "You know what it means if they kill any of the club deer. It may cost you your place here. The members of the club may say you were not careful enough." "That's so, wife. I reckon I'd better look after those chaps. If they're trespassing on Elk Lodge I can have them arrested anyhow." The next day was clear and calm, just right for taking pictures, and after breakfast the entire company went out on the hill where the bobsled race was to take place. The hill had been prepared in advance by men from Elk Lodge, so that the sleds would attain good speed. The snow had been packed down, "Paul, you will steer one bob," said Mr. Pertell, as he was arranging the affair, "and Mr. Sneed will take the other." "What, me steer a bobsled down that hill?" cried the grouchy actor, as he looked at the steep slope. "Of course," said the manager. "Something is sure to happen," declared Mr. Sneed. "Nonsense!" exclaimed Mr. Pertell. "All you have to do is to keep the wheel steady." The company of players, with a number of men from Elk Lodge, added to fill the bobs, now divided themselves into two parties. Ruth was to go on the sled with Mr. Sneed, and sit directly behind him so as to show well in the camera. Alice was to ride next to Paul on the other sled. The bobs were long ones, with bells and large steering wheels in front. "All ready?" called Mr. Pertell, when the players were seated. "All ready!" cried Russ, indicating that the camera was prepared. "Go!" ordered the manager, and the men detailed to push the bobs shoved them ahead. The moving picture coasting race was on. |