
 
        
         
		curriculum  such  modem  sciences  as  chemistry and  
 optics, and  I   was for some time completely at a loss  
 how to explain the secrets of  the photographic art—  
 especially  as  I  was  not  quite  clear  on  the  subject  
 myself. 
 Fortunately I happened  to have in  my  pocket  a  
 small  lens.  By means of  this  I  was  able  to  show  
 them  how  the  rays  of  light  falling  upon  the  glass  
 could  be  brought  to a focus  so as  to throw a miniature  
 picture  of  the  object  towards  which  it  was  
 turned upon a piece  of  white  paper, held  at  a  little  
 distance  behind  it.  I  then  pointed  out  that  their  
 hands  and  faces,  if  exposed  for  long  to  the  sun,  
 became tanned, and explained  that  in the same way  
 the light thrown by the lens in  the  front  portion  of  
 the camera upon the paper in the hinder part of  the  
 box would tan the surface of  the film  so  as  to  form  
 a  small  picture  of  the  object  towards  which  the  
 camera was presented. 
 I gave Aissa  this  lucid  and  highly  scientific  explanation  
 in French.  He  translated  it  into  Arabic  
 for  the  benefit  of  the woman  who  spoke  that  language  
 the  most  fluently,  and  she,  in  her  turn,  
 translated  the  rigmarole  into  Tamahak  for  the  
 benefit  of  her  sisters  in  ignorance.  These,  curious  
 to  relate,  were  entirely  satisfied  with  the  explanation. 
 Having appeased  their  curiosity upon this point,  
 I told Aissa to  arrange  the  three  women  in  a  compact  
 group in  the  sun  under  the  wall  of  the  outer  
 enclosure. 
 Having got them  in  their  places, I  endeavoured 
 to  induce  them  to  ‘think  of  ’im,’  and  assume  a  
 proper photographic attitude and expression. 
 It was hopeless.  My explanation seemed to have  
 removed their fear of the camera, but  now that they  
 felt  the  actual  ordeal was  at  hand,  a fit of  nervous  
 restlessness, coupled with an intense desire to laugh,  
 seemed  to  seize  possession of  them, which  made  it  
 almost impossible for me to get them to keep still for  
 a  single  moment.  They  behaved,  in  fact,  exactly  
 like  the  * three  little  girls  from  school ’  in  ‘ The  
 Mikado.’  Never had a photographer more refractory  
 subjects to deal with. 
 I  got  them  into  a  good  position,  and  was  just  
 about to make the exposure, when one of  them  suddenly  
 hid her face with her shawl  and  burst  into an  
 uncontrollable spasm of giggling, in which of  course  
 the others immediately joined. 
 As soon as this attack had  passed off, and  I  had  
 reduced  the  group again  to  stillness, the woman  on  
 the  right,  feeling  that  her  shawl  was  tickling  her  
 ear,  put  up  her  hand,  thereby  completely  hiding  
 her face,  in order to arrange it more comfortably. 
 I put her straight, got her still, and was focussing  
 her  again  in  the  view-finder,  when  a  movement  
 caught  my  eye  on  the  other  side of  the  group and  
 drew my attention  to  the  fact  that  the  girl  on  the  
 left  had  turned  her  face  completely  away,  and was  
 playfully  arranging  the  third  girl’s  shawl  so  as  to  
 entirely  conceal  her  face.  My  discovery  of  this  
 trick set  the whole three into a fresh fit of  giggling,  
 from  which  it  took  them  two  or  three  minutes  to  
 recover.