"We'll put on an enlarging lens, and get the camera close to them," explained Blake, who had had experience in taking several films of this sort for the use of schools and colleges.
A halt was called while the camera was made ready, and then, as the ants went on in their queer procession, carrying the leaves which looked like green sails over their backs, the film clicked on in its indelible impression of them, for the delight of audiences who might see them on the screen, in moving picture theaters from Maine to California.
"Well, that was worth getting," said Blake, as they put away the camera, and went on again. "I wonder what we'll see next?"
"Have you any wild beasts in these jungles?" asked Mr. Alcando of the Indian guide.
"Well, not many. We have some deer, though this is not the best time to see them. And once in a while you'll see a—"
"What's that?" suddenly interrupted Blake, pointing through the thick growth of trees. "I saw some animal moving then. Maybe it was a deer. I'd like to get a picture of it."
There was a movement in the underbrush, and a shouting among the native carriers.
"Come on!" cried Joe, dashing ahead with a camera.
"Better wait," advised Mr. Alcando. "It might be something dangerous."
"It's only some tapirs, I think," the guide said. "They are harmless."