Pruitt reports that the psychrometer has been stolen. I suspected he had misplaced it, but then Tillman caught sight of one of the young Indians showing the instrument to the others. Tillman was ready to start a brawl, but I swayed him otherwise. We are better off to seem as if we approve of the “trade” than to arouse hostility.
This evening, Nat’aaggi brought an old man to speak with us. She helped him raise his hide tunic to his chest. Along the Indian’s side were savage, roughly healed scars. Several of his ribs had evidently been broken as well, healed unevenly so that they protrude at odd angles. It is improbable that a man could survive such injuries, certainly not an Indian without medicine or doctor.
I asked what had caused this. Was he in a battle? An attack of some sort?
Nat’aaggi again shook her head, then pointed to the lake. It seems the old man was fishing out too far. The creature overturned his canoe. He says he escaped only because he was a strong fighter.
I observed that the scars are well healed, asked how long ago it had happened.
The discussion attracted Tillman’s attention.
?—?Christ Almighty! The thing in the lake did this?
I repeated my question about the timing of the event.
?—?It happened many summers ago, when he was a young man, Tillman said.
I suggested that if the creature had ever existed, perhaps it was dead now.
Tillman was not put at ease, however. As he climbed into his sleeping bag, he made his plea.
?—?Let’s just walk around the lake, Colonel. Why risk it? Even putting aside this 50-foot monster, those waves are serious enough. Seems to me they could sink these shallow canoes.
When I would not budge, he tried to convince me that it would improve our mapping if we were to walk the edge of the lake.
?—?The lieutenant could get better measurements.
I have no desire to overwinter in this territory. I told Tillman as much. I’m ready for home. The lake offers us no danger beyond fear & superstition. With calm weather, smooth waters, we’ll paddle straight across without any excitement.
June 16
It is but the early hours of the morning, yet I can no longer sleep. It is quiet. The waves have subsided. The lake is smooth. A mist lays across the water. I am anxious to be on our way. I will wake the men soon.
In September I visited the Chkituk village, where I sang a funeral service for a Kenaitze who had become ill and soon died from a fright. He had seen some scary animal-like monster that was coming from the water. Soon this native lost his speech, his mind became cloudy, and within three days he died.
?—?From Hegumen Nikolai, Travel Journal, 1860,
Through Orthodox Eyes
Dear Mrs. Forrester?—
I have enclosed your pneumatic shutter. I am quite anxious to learn how it works for you. Although my landscapes are not as prone to jumping about as your birds, I may yet be tempted to try the apparatus. My wife for some time has wanted me to take a portrait photograph of our three young and energetic grandchildren. A quick-acting shutter might be of use in such a situation.
I have also put on order the rapid rectilinear lens?—?I think the Dallmeyer’s will serve you best. I will send it to you as soon as it arrives.
And yes, I know all too well your frustration. It is a rare combination of events that must occur: the illumination at the moment, the length of exposure, the composition of the scene, the development, and then the printing. I am sorry to say that only one or two of my photographs of Mount Hood come close to touching upon the vision that I so often witness. Yet I believe that the more you experiment, the nearer you will draw to your aspiration.
I hope I do not stray too far into my own philosophical thoughts, but let me venture this much: one must learn the mechanics and chemistry, and then allow all that to slip into the background. It seems counter to science and rational thought, but I do not believe one can ultimately calculate perfection. It is an impression, an instinct in the moment, on which one must depend.
All that being said, I see great skill in the two prints you kindly sent me. They may not be your birds, but it is clear that you have an aptitude for both composition and light. It seems to me that already you observe and translate the world with a photographer’s eye.
I would be most pleased to see more of your future work.
Sincerely,
Mr. Henry Redington
Sophie Forrester
Vancouver Barracks