[20] To those who attribute our retreat to the fear of a possible second failure of the oxygen apparatus, I say that such a prospect cost me not one moment of apprehension; I knew I was equal to such an emergency. Neither were our actions influenced by discouragement or indifference—we cared terribly about reaching our goal. The fact that we took cameras, but omitted to use them, has been construed as evidence of forgetfulness and change in mental attitude induced by the height. Before leaving our high camp, Geoffrey Bruce and I had carefully made our plans. We realised that we would have little time to spare, and that the cold would be too intense to permit of reloading the cameras. Therefore, in camp, we had loaded each of the cameras with one spool and jealously saved all the exposures for the summit views. Neither the summit nor the pictures materialised for us.
[21] By means of theodolite observations made from a single point near the Base Camp, this height has worked out at 27,235 feet. This latter height is calculated on the assumption that the altitude of Mount Everest is 29,002 feet. It may be of interest to note, however, that the mean of numerous observations made by the Survey of India from twelve different stations places the height of Everest at 29,141 feet. This figure has not yet been finally corrected for deviation of gravity. When due allowance for this has been made the height of Mount Everest will probably be found to be about 29,200 feet. In the same way the point reached by Geoffrey Bruce and myself works out at (27,235 + 198) = 27,433 feet; a height that is exceeded, as far as I know, by four mountains, all in the Himalayas; namely, Mount Everest, K2 (28,250 ft.), Kanchenjunga (28,150 ft.) and Makalu (27,790 ft.).
CHAPTER XXI
MOUNTAINEERING PHOTOGRAPHY
Not the least of the rewards of mountaineering are the memories of mountain comrades and adventures which cheer those of the true faith through the humdrum existence of ordinary life. The camera enables us to retain a faithful picture of the many striking incidents, the wonderful surroundings and the fellow-actors who have played with us in the great game; so that photography, like a keen and accurately observant sixth sense, helps to keep our mountain memories fresh and true for all time. Given no other, this, by itself, were sufficient reason why a camera should accompany us on our travels.
A distinction should be drawn between photography of mountains and mountaineering photography. The former is a pursuit indulged in by those who are, for the most part, content to take photographs of mountain scenery from valleys, railways, roads, paths or other easily accessible points of view. In such cases, photography is the chief object; any mountaineering that may be done is, as a rule, of the simplest kind and undertaken chiefly for the sake of photography. By “mountaineering photography,” on the other hand, I would designate the use to which the mountaineer puts the camera; to him, climbing is the main object, and photography merely an incidental side issue. To the photographer, the weight and bulk of his photographic apparatus is of minor importance; but the bona-fide climber must cut down the weight of his photographic equipment to a minimum, and any photography he may indulge in must interfere as little as possible with the pursuit of the ruling passion. His camera must be so simple that pictures can be taken quickly and without waste of time. The scenes most worthy of record frequently give little warning of their approach and are of short duration; and, unless the camera is one which can be quickly manipulated, the opportunity will be gone before the record can be secured. The mountaineer is, therefore, confined to the use of a simple, light camera of small and convenient dimensions. The opinion is widely expressed in books on mountain photography that good results are only obtainable with stand cameras and glass plates—the heaviest and most inconvenient type of photographic equipment. To-day, this is no longer the case. Lenses, folding cameras sufficiently small and compact to fit into one’s pocket, and the celluloid film negative have been brought to such a state of perfection that, with their aid, the climber can secure photographs which not only compete successfully from the point of view of quality with the results obtained with far more elaborate apparatus, but also far excel the latter in quantity.
The choice of camera is governed, in the first place, by the size of the negative required. In contact copies, from the smaller sizes of negatives, details, often of value, are too readily overlooked and usually appear to proper advantage only on enlargement. Particularly so is this the case with regard to pictorial effect. Enlargements to more than six or seven diameters show up faulty definition to an exaggerated degree, and the grain of the emulsion often becomes disturbingly evident. The smallest size of negative which may be regarded as sufficiently free from these drawbacks is 2¹⁄₂ × 3¹⁄₂ inches, a size which permits of satisfactory enlargement up to the pleasing dimensions of 12 × 15 or even 15 × 20 inches. As, however, a quarter-plate size (3¹⁄₄ × 4¹⁄₄ inches) camera is procurable which is handy, simple to use, and is neither too bulky nor too heavy, the mountaineer would do best to be on the safe side and adopt this as his standard. There is no need to peer into or use a magnifying glass when looking at a quarter-plate size contact print. Its pictorial value can be easily judged, the proportions of the shape are pleasing, and it enlarges well.
In a mountain hut.
A portrait study.