The lamp was taken down to Stone Mountain where another difficulty was encountered. The carving was at an elevation of 350 feet. That meant that the light beam carrying the design traveled upward at an angle of a little more than fifty degrees, which meant great distortion. The sculptor discovered that by tipping the slide at a corresponding angle, this distortion could be overcome. Consequently he first photographed the model on the level. Then he photographed the photograph tipped forward at an angle equal to overcoming the distortion in reverse. Thus a distorted slide was made to meet precisely the conditions on the mountain where the design was to be placed. As a result the picture appeared at that high elevation as it would directly in front of the lens. The picture was then traced on the mountainside in white to guide the blocking-out process of the carvers. The lamp, weighing about a ton, was bolted to a concrete foundation to avoid the slightest movement. It would be swung to any angle, up and down, right and left. A slide three inches high produced a picture 200 feet high. The enlargement was so great that a pin scratch on the slide measured nine inches in width on the mountain. The head of Lee’s horse was thirty feet from tip of ear to end of lip; the stirrup was nine feet long. A man standing on Lee’s shoulder needed a nine-foot stepladder to carve the ear. In these dimensions absolute precision was of the utmost importance. A telephone for communication between the operator and workers on the mountain was installed so that with micrometer adjustments, the same picture could be superimposed night after night on the incomplete tracings. In addition to locating the design on the mountain the lamp made possible infinite changes in the original plan. Even a complete change in the composition of a dozen horses or a hundred soldiers could be projected on the mountain and the effect of the change shown at once. The picture as it appeared on the mountain shown at night was as clear as the scene in a movie. In fact, one night when the photograph was being shown a passer-by stopped in great excitement, thinking that the figures had already been carved, so lifelike was the illusion. The projection machine, Gutzon estimated, saved him at least two or three years’ labor in placing his sketch upon the mountain. A third problem, equally important and seemingly insolvable, was what could be done to remove the stone with the rapidity and facility that a sculptor enjoys when he works on a marble bust in his studio? This thought occurred to Gutzon before he even measured the acreage he intended to use for his carving. How could he whip these enormous dimensions and reduce a mountain to a handful? He related this experience in an article later produced in the Dupont trade magazine. He said: