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Mount Assiniboine. 
 
CAMPING IN THE 
 CANADIAN ROCKIES 
 
 AN ACCOUNT OF CAMP LIFE IN THE vVILDER PARTS OF 
 
 THE CANADIAN ROCKY MOUNTAINS, TOGETHER 
 
 WITH A DESCRIPTION OF THE REGION ABOUT 
 
 BANFF, LAKE LOUISE, AND GLACIER, 
 
 AND A SKETCH OF THE EARLY 
 
 EXPLORATIONS 
 
 BY 
 
 WALTEK DWIGHT WILCOX 
 
 WITH TVVMNTV FIVE FULL-PAGF PHOTOGRAVURES, AND MANY TEXT 
 ILLUSTRATIONS FROM PHOTOGRAPHS BY THE AUTHOR 
 
 '; 1' ITT\ \M'^ ;-( )\' 
 
 NKW YORK 
 
 27 Whsr Twi-M v-i Mimi Sikkht 
 
 I.OMiOX 
 
 J4 likDKOKI) StukKI, SiKAM) 
 
 aljc iiniclictbochcv |)rcss 
 1896 
 
CorYKKWIl. lS(|f) 
 IIV 
 
 (1. 1'. 1-L'lNAM'S SONS 
 Entcrid at Stationers Hall, London 
 
 Fc 
 
 f 
 
 Cbe itntorietbocliec pcces, Dew H^tft 
 
f 
 
 PRKI \CK. 
 
 THH Canadian Rocky Mountains offer cxceijtional 
 attractions to tliosc who enjoy natural sceiier). 
 sport, and camp life. l'"e\v re_L,nons of tlu: world 
 coinbinino- mountain, lake, ami forest scenery possess the 
 additional advantaj^^e of a delijj^htful summer climate, such 
 as obtains in the Canadian Rockies. 
 
 The extremely wild charact(!r of this part of th(^ Rocky 
 Mountains, and th(; very short time since it was opened 
 up to travellers, are probably, in great part, the reasons 
 for the lack of literature and the absenct? of any thor- 
 oughly illustrated publication concerning this region. 
 
 During a period of four years, the author has made 
 camping excursions into many of the wilder parts of the 
 mountains and effected a considerable number of ascents. 
 An excellent camera has been an almost inseparable com- 
 panion in every excursion, so that photographs of the 
 typical scenery hav(; been obtained from every possible 
 point of view. Moreover, throughout all the processes of 
 photographing, no expense of time or labor has been 
 spared in order to obtain true and artistic representations 
 of nature. Nor have these results been obtained without 
 
JV 
 
 Preface. 
 
 considcrabh; sacrifice, for in many cases the proper li^ln 
 eifects on lakes and forests required hours of delay, and 
 freciuently. on lofty mountain summits, high winds made 
 it necessary m anchor the camera with stones ; while the 
 cold and e.xposure of those high altitudtts made th(; cir- 
 cumstances unfavorable for successful work. 
 
 A map is not i.icluded in the volume, as, owing to the 
 wildness of the country, there are no detailed maps cover- 
 ing this region that are entirely satisfactory. The best 
 map, and. in fact, the only one available, is published in 
 Dr. Dawson's Preliminary Report on this part of the 
 Rocky Mountains. 
 
 The author makes grateful acknowledgment of the 
 assistance received from many friends in the preparation 
 of this book. Special thanks are due to Prof. J. H. Core, 
 of Columbian University, and to the Hon. Chas. D. Wal- 
 cott. Director of the United States Geological Survey, for 
 the valuable aid and information given by them ; to INI. 
 Guillaume La Mothe for an interesting letter concerning 
 the f^rst exploration of the Fraser River; and to Sir 
 William Van Home for the many courtesies extended. 
 
 \V. D. W. 
 
 Washington, D.C, July, 1896. 
 
cox TKN IS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 BiViff—Its Location — Tlic I 'Mii^r,-— Tourists — Hotels - Topoi^raphv 
 of t/if Rr:::ion—Kiiihnc and Cascade Mountains— The Deril's Lake—Sir 
 Geor-e Simpson's yoiirney to this Region— Pcechec the Indian Guide— 
 An Indian I.e,i;end— The Missionary .Rundle—Dr. /lector— The Climate 
 of Iianjt—,t Summer Snoic- Storm- - The Mountains in 11 'inter i - 1 5 
 
 CHAI'TIIR II. 
 
 lahe I.oui,e— First Impressions— An Abode of Perpetual Winter— 
 The Chalet— Visitors— Stirring Talcs of Adventure— Primeval Forests- 
 Forest Fires— Mosquitoes and Bull- Dog I'lics— Mortal Combats between 
 Wasps and Bull-dogs— The Old Chalet— Morning on the Lake— Approach 
 of a Storm— Sublimity of a Mountain Thunder-Storm— Cloud Effects— 
 The Lake in October— A Magnificent Avalanche from Mount Lefrov- 
 A Warning of Approaching Winter ,6_,- 
 
 1! 
 
 CH.\PTER III. 
 
 Surroundings of the Lake— Position of Mountains and Valleys- The 
 Spruce and Balsam Firs-The Lyall's Larch- Alpine Flo7c>'ers—Tlie 
 Trail among the Cliffs- The Beehive, a Monument of the Past-Lake 
 Agnes, a Lake of Solitude— Summit of the Beehive -Lake Louise in the 
 Distant Future . ^ . 
 
VI 
 
 Contents. 
 
 ciiAi'i i;r IV. 
 
 0>X(i/n':if/,i^ ii Party for tlic Moimttiins — Our Plans Jor //ir Summer — 
 Williiim Twin an J I'om C7iinii/ii\ — A'atun-, Ifiihits, and Dress of llw 
 StoniY Indians — //// /■'.xcnrsion on the Glacier — The Surface Delris and 
 its Orii^in — .S'«<;7»' Line — Ascent of the Couloir — // 'Terrible Accident - 
 Ge.tin)^ Dim<n — An K\hausit,i}^ Return for Aid — Hasty Organization of 
 a Rescue Tartx — Cold and Miserable Wait on the Glacier— I' nplcasant 
 Surmises — "/ Think You Hi" — .-/ I'ortunate Termination . 47-64 
 
 CIIAI'IKK V. 
 
 Castle Crates — Early .\forninf; on the Mountain Sidi — I'ieh' fro/n the 
 Summit — Ascent of the .li^uil/e — , /// Avalanche of Rocks — ./ Gloriom 
 Glissade — St. J'iian — Its Al/<ine Flowers and Jiutter flies— Expedition to 
 an Unexplored Valley — A Thirsty !! alk throuj^h the Forest— Discovery 
 of a Mountain Torrent — .,•/ Lake .// the Forest — // Mountain Amphi- 
 theatre—The Saddle — Impressive View of Mount Temple — Summit of 
 Great Mountain — An Ascent in I 'ain — A Sudden Storm in the //iyh J/oun- 
 tains — Phenomenal Pall 0/ Temperature — Grand Cloud Effects, 65-S3 
 
 I 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Paradise Valley — The Miire G'aciir — ^tir Castles — Climbini; to the 
 Col — Dark fee Caverns — Mountain Sickness- — Grandeur of the Rock- 
 Precipices on Mount Lefroy — Summit of the Col at /.ast — A Glorious 
 Vision of a iVeii' and Beautiful Valley — A Temple of A'ature — Sudden 
 Change of JVeather — Temptation to Explore the New Valley- A Precip- 
 itate Dt scent — Sudden Transition from Arctic to Temperate Conditions — 
 Delightful Surroundings — Weary Pollo7C>ers— Overtaken by A'ight — .7 
 bivouac in tlie Forest — /'//(■ /// the Forest — Indian Sarcasm, 84-100 
 
 I 
 t 
 
 
 CHAPIER VII. 
 
 The Wild Character of Paradise I'alley — Difficulties with Pack- 
 Horses — A Remarkable Accident — Our Camp and Surroundings — Animal 
 
ColltLlUS. 
 
 Ml 
 
 fi ii-iuh — Midsumiiiii hlowfrs — Disolatioti I '<i//>y — . I.u,/// of Hazel /'< </X- 
 — .•/// Al[<ine f.akc in ./ />'./.*/// of /,< /■iist .Utiii;/<l /<> S,ii/r Mount I'iiiiple 
 — Our ( \tinp f'V (.' Siihi// fiike .1 II ilJ ivul Slotiny .\ f^lil — ./// I iiipti>,sahle 
 Harrier— A Scene of I' Her Desci'd.'i.ii-.l// .Wtfiire S/eeps — Pijfieutiies 
 of Aseeitt — 77ic //ix/ies/ J\>int yet Reaeliiu! in t './//«/</</ — /'iinii/ise I 'alley in 
 Winter — l'\ire7i>eH to Lake Louise . . , . . ,101-118 
 
 I 
 
 r/ 
 
 CIlAl'TMR \'!II. 
 
 'I'lie Selkirks — (ieof^rapliieiil /'o'^ilion of Hie luiiii^e — (iooil Cheer of 
 the Glacier Ifome — Cliarniin;^ Si/uation—Coiiiparisoii le.'roeen the Selkirk^ 
 and /■iockies — /uirly Mountain Accents — Density if llie forest— Ascent of 
 /uii;le l\ak — A Ma^uificenf Panoramo I Descent in the Darkness — 
 Account if a Terril'le /■Experience on /uix e /'eak— 7'riiils tl/roui;// llie 
 /''orest — I'uture J\>pularlty of tlie Su kirks — 7 lie J'orest Primeval — 
 ••/// /'pitonie of Human Lifi — .<.;■ of J rees — forests Dependent on 
 Humidity . , . , . . . . . 1 iy-136 
 
 CHAl'lKR IX. 
 Mount Assinihoinc — Preparations for I'isitini^ it — Camp at Ileely's 
 Creek— Crossin;:; the Simpson Pass — Shoot a Pack- Horse — A /^elii:;htful 
 Camp — A Difficult Smn^' Pass — Burnt Timber — Xature Sounds— Dis- 
 corery of a Beautiful Lake — Lnspirim; l'ie;i' of Mount Assinilwine — 
 Our Camp at the Base of the Mountain — Summer Snort'-Storms — /nac- 
 cessiiility of Mount Assinilwine . . . , . • '37-iS7 
 
 CHAPTKR X. 
 
 Evidence of Game — Discovery of a Mountain Goat — A Lon^ Hunt — 
 A Critical Moment— A Terrible Fall — ./// Unpleasant Experience — 
 Habitat of the JLountain Goat — A Chan,\:e of Weather — A Magnificent 
 Panorama — Set out to fix pi ore the ALiUntain — Intense Heat of a Forest 
 Fire—Strui:^^lini; icith Burnt Timber — A ALountain Bivouac- -J/ope and 
 Despair — Success at Last — Short Lia lions- Topography of ALount Assini- 
 boinc — The Vermilion Kiver — ./ Wonderful Canyon — B'ording tlie Boio 
 River 158-1S2 
 
^ /*-;*' 
 
 VI u 
 
 Contents. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 The Waputfhk Raii-r—Jld^^Iit of the Mou»taim—Vast S,w7i> Fichh 
 ami Glaciers— Journey n," tlie Bow—noine of a Prospector— Causes ami 
 Frequency of Forest Fires— A Visit to tlie Loi.er Bow Lalce—Musl^eirs- 
 A Mountain FloodeJ will, Ice—Deli)rl,tful Scenes at tlie [pper Bow 
 Lal-e — Beauty of tlie Sliores — Lalce Trout — Tiw Great Bow 
 Glacier .... .., 
 
 CHAPTER XH. 
 
 Sources of tlie Bow- Tlie Little Fork Pass—Mat^nificence of the 
 Scenery— Mount Murchison—Camp on the Divide— A High Mountain 
 Ascent— Future of tlie Bow Lakes— Return down the Bow— Search for a 
 Pass— Remarkable Agility of Pack-Horscs-Tlie ''Bay" and the 'Pinto "' 
 — Mountain Solitudes— Mount Hector— Difficult Nature of Johnston 
 Creek — A Blinding Siio7c-Storni— Forty-.}nie Creek— Mount Fdith 
 
 Pass 
 
 205-219 
 
 CHAPTER Xni. 
 HISTORICAL. 
 
 Origin and Rise of the Fur Trade— The Coureurs dcs Bois and the 
 Voyagcurs— Perils of the Canoe Voyages— The LIudson Bay Company and 
 the Northwest Company— Intense Rivalry— Downfall of the Northwest 
 Company— Sir Alexander Mackenzie -His Character and Physical En- 
 do7uments— Cook's Explorations — Mackenzie Starts to Penetrate the 
 Rockies— The Peace River— A Marvellous Escape -The Pacific Reached 
 h Land— Perils of the Sea and of the Wilderness . . . 220-236 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 HI.STORICAL. 
 
 Captain Cook's Explorations— The American Fur Company— First 
 Exploration of the Eraser River— Expedition of Ross Cox- Cannibalism 
 —Simplicity of a Voyageur—Sir George Simpson's Journey— Disccrvery 
 
Contents. 
 
 IX 
 
 of Gofd in iSsS—riw Pal User Expedition— Dr. Hector's Adventures- 
 Milton and Cheadlc — Growtli of tlie Dominion — Railroad Surveys — 
 Construction of the Railroad— Historical Periods— Future Popularity 
 of the Canadian Rockies ....... 237-257 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Tin- Pleasures of the Natural Sciences — Inter io'- of the luxrth — 
 Thickness of the Crust — Origin and Cause of Mountains— Their Age and 
 Slo^x' Groii'th — System in Mountain Arrangement — The Cordilleran Sys- 
 tem — The Canadian Rockies — Comparison with Other Mountain Regions — 
 Climate — Cause of Chinook I Finds — /-^Jfect of High Latitude on Sun and 
 Moon — Principal Game Animals — Xature of the Forests — Mountain 
 Lakes — Camp Experiences— Fffect on the Character . . 258-275 
 
 IxnKX 
 
 J77--«3 
 
FULL-PAGE PHOTOGRAVURES. 
 
 Mount Assinihoink . . . 
 
 Haxff Sprincs Hotki. . . . . 
 
 Bow RuER AM) CAscADr; Mountain 
 
 Lake Louise 
 
 Mount Lefrov and Mirror Lake 
 Lake Agnes (in eariy juiy, isg,-) 
 
 T< >M CHINI(^U\' I liy courtesy i>f Mr. S. H. Thompson, N'cw Westu 
 
 Mount Temple, from the Saddee 
 Discovery of Paradise Valley . 
 Cami' in Paradise Valley 
 Mount Sir Donald, from Eagle Peak 
 Head of Rocky Mountain Sheep 
 
 North Lake 
 
 Summit Lake, near Mount Assinimoine 
 Head of Rocky Mountain Goat cshotjuiy ,a, 
 
 The W'APUTEHK Range n.ookinu across the ranjrc from 
 
 pagb 
 
 tronttSj 
 
 Oliii 
 
 
 • • 
 
 
 4 
 
 • 
 
 
 10 
 
 • • 
 
 
 18 
 
 • 
 
 
 38 
 
 4:; 
 
 nin'iti'r, H. 
 
 C) 
 
 50 
 
 • 
 
 
 78 
 92 
 
 108 
 
 • 
 
 
 126 
 
 • « 
 
 
 • 32 
 . 152 
 
 . 154 
 
 'S95) . 
 
 
 164 
 
 ne.ir Hector) 
 
 184 
 
 ( 
 
,.A 
 
 Mi 
 
 '^w 
 
 Xll 
 
 Full-Page Photogravures. 
 
 Mount Daly 
 
 Ul'PER Bow Lake (Looking e^st) 
 Ul'PKR Bow LAKK (Looking wesO 
 
 Source ok the Little Fork ok the Saskatchewan 
 River 
 
 Storm in Little Fork Valley 
 Mount Hector and Slate Mountains 
 
 (From summit of a mountain near Little Fork Pass, lo, 
 
 Cami' at Little Fork Pass . 
 Upper Bow Lake (Looking south) . 
 Emerald Lake and Mount Field 
 
 25 feet in altitude) 
 
 PAGR 
 
 192 
 196 
 
 200 
 
 206 
 208 
 
 210 
 212 
 
 270 
 
 272 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS IN THE TEXT 
 
 RUNDI.E MOUNTAIX AND BOW RiVHR 
 
 LAKK Louise (Looking toward chalet) 
 
 Anemones .... 
 A Cool Rktrkat in the Forest 
 Summit ok Mount Temple 
 Glacier House 
 
 Pevio 
 
 Packlnc; the Buckskin . 
 Calypso .... 
 Approaching the Pass . 
 
 North LAKI", (Looking northwest i 
 
 Haunt of the Mountain Goat 
 
 Mount ASSINIBOINE iFrom northwest) 
 
 Lake on Vlr>hlion Pass 
 Ready to March 
 Camp at Upper Bow Lake 
 The " Bay "... 
 Falls of Leanchoil 
 
 •5 
 31 
 40 
 
 75 
 "5 
 120 
 140 
 142 
 
 143 
 149 
 
 157 
 165 
 167 
 181 
 186 
 202 
 214 
 249 
 
■Hi 
 
CAMPING IN 
 THE CANADIAN ROCKIES. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Banff— Its Location — T/ie Village — Tourists — Hotels— Topoi^raphy 
 of the Re,^ion — Rundle and Cascade Mountains — The Devil's l.akt — Sir 
 George Simpson's yourney to this Region — Peechee the Indian Guidi — 
 An Indian Legend— The Missionary Rundle— Dr. Hector— The Climate 
 of Banff — A Summer Snow-Storm — The Mountains in Winter. 
 
 THE principal resort of tourists and sportsmen in 
 the Rocky Mountains of Canada is Banfif, The 
 location of the town or village of Banff might be 
 briefly described as being just within the eastern-most 
 range of the Rocky Mountains, about one hundred and 
 fifty miles north of the International boundary, or where 
 the Canadian Pacific Railway begins to pierce the com- 
 plex system of mountains which continue from this point 
 westward to the Pacific coast. 
 
 Banff is likewise the central or focal point of the 
 Canadian National Park. There is so much of scenic 
 interest and natural beauty in the surrounding mountains 
 and valleys, that an area of some two hundred and sixty 
 
The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 ■4 
 
 square miles has been reserved in this re.Ljion by the irov- 
 ernment and laid out with fine roads and bridle-paths 
 to points of special interest. Order is enforced by a body 
 of men known as the Northwest Mounted Police, a detach- 
 ment of which is stationed at Banff. This or<ranization 
 has been wonderfully effective for many years past in 
 preserving the authority of the laws throughout the vast 
 extent of northwestern Canada by means of a number of 
 men that seems altogether insufficient for that purpose. 
 
 The small and scattered village of Banff occupies a 
 flat plain near the Bow River. This large stream, the 
 south branch of the Saskatchewan, one of the greatest 
 rivers of North America, is at this point not only deep 
 and swift but fully one hundred yards in width. A fine 
 iron bridge spans the river and leads to the various hotels 
 all of which an^ south of the village. The permanent 
 population numbers some half thousand, while the various 
 stores, dwellings, and churches have a general air of neat- 
 ness and by their new appearance suggest the fact that 
 the history of Banff extends back only one decade. 
 
 During the summer season, the permanent population 
 of Banff i'^ sometimes nearly doubled by a great invasion 
 of tourists and travellers from far distant regions. Over- 
 land tourists from India, China. Ceylon, and England, the 
 various countries of Europe and the Dominion of Canada, 
 but chiefly from the United States, form the greater part 
 of this cosmopolitan assemblage, in which, however, 
 almost every part of the globe is occasionally represented. 
 Some are bent on sport with rod or gun; others a 
 
 f 
 
 .A, 
 
 Ml 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 .^S 
 
Tourists. 
 
 mountaineering or camping expeditions, but the great 
 maiority are en route to distant countries and make Banff 
 a stop[)ing-plac(; for a short period. 
 
 Arrived at Banff, the traveller is confronted by a 
 line of hack drivers and hotel employes shouting in loud 
 voices the names and praises of their various hotels. 
 Such sights and sounds are a bles.sed relief to the tourist, 
 who for several days has witnessed nothing but the 
 boundless plains and scanty population of northwestern 
 Canada. The chorus of rival voices seems almost a wel- 
 come back to civilization, and reminds one in a mild 
 degree of some railroad station in a great metropolis. 
 On the contrarx', the new arrival finds, as he is whirled 
 rapiiUy toward his hotel in the coach, that he is in a mere 
 country village surrounded on all sides by high mountains, 
 with here and there patches of perpetual snow near their 
 lofty summits. 
 
 Though the surrounding region, the adjacent moun- 
 tains, and valleys represent nature in a wild and almost 
 primitive state, one may remain at Banff attended by all 
 the comforts of civilization. The several hotels occujjy 
 more or less scattered points in the valley south from the 
 village. Th(i one built and managed by the railroatl 
 stanils apart from the village on an eminence overlooking 
 the Bow River. It is a magnificent structure capable of 
 accommodating a large number of guests. From the 
 verandas and porches one may obtain a fine panoramic 
 view of the surrounding mountains, and on the side 
 towards th(; river the view combines water, forest, and 
 
•*/!' 
 
 4 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 mountain sctMiery in a most jjUjasinij mannt.T. The How 
 RivL-r, sonK! three hundred feet below, comes in from the left 
 and dashes in a snowy cascade throuj^di a rocky .t,'or(fe, then, 
 swe(.'pinL,f away towards the <;ast, is joined by tht; S[)ray 
 River, a mad mountain torrent deep and swift, but clear 
 as crystal, and with cold water of that deep blue color 
 indicatini^ its mountain orii^dn. Tlu; wonderful rapidity 
 with which these mountain streams llow is a source of 
 astonishment and wonder to those familiar only witli the 
 sluggish rivers of lowland regions. Standing on the lit- 
 tle iron bridge which carries the road across the stream 
 and looking down on the water, 1 have often imagined I 
 was at the stern of an ocean greyhound, so rapidly does 
 each ripple or inequality sweep under and away from the 
 eye. Though the water is less than a yard in depth, the 
 current moves under the bridge at the rate of from nine 
 to ten miles an hour. 
 
 The best point from which to get a good general idea 
 of the topography of Banff and its surroundings is from 
 the summit of a little hill known as Tunnel Mountain. 
 It is centrally located in the wide valley ot the Bow, above 
 which it rises exactly looo feet, an altitude great enough 
 to make it appear a high mountain were it not dwarfed 
 by its mighty neighbors. The view from the summit is 
 not of exceedim/ grandeur, but is well worth the labor of 
 the climb, especially as a good path, with occasional seats 
 for the weary, makes the walk an easy one. The top of 
 the mountain is still far below the tree line, though the 
 earth is too thin to nourish a rich forest. The soil was 
 
 ■4 
 ,.J; 
 
 i,., 
 
I 
 
 Banff Springs Hotel. 
 
 ( 
 
1 
 
 ■.::%:.. 
 
 ^■'■'■^ "' 
 
 '\tii ^li^'V 
 
 -'^w<:^l- 
 
 
 / 
 
i, 7 
 
"^ 
 
 \'icw from Tunnel Mountain. 
 
 5 
 
 all carried away in the Ice Agt, for there are abundant 
 proofs that this mountain was once flooded by a glacier 
 coming down the Bow valle\-. The bare limestone of the 
 summit is grooved in great channels pointing straight up 
 the Bow valley. In some places scratches made by the ice 
 are \isible, and there are many quartz boulders strewed 
 about which have been carried here from some distant 
 region. 
 
 The meandering course of the Bow River, the village, 
 the hay meadows and grassy swamps, all form a pretty 
 picture in the Hat valley below. The eastern face of 
 Tunnel Mountain is wellnigh perpendicular. The trail 
 leads along near the summit and allows thrilling views 
 down the sheer precipice to the flat valley of the Bow 
 River far below. The trees and prominent objects of the 
 landscape seem like toys, and the adjacent plains resemble 
 a colored map. There are no houses or dwellings in view 
 on this side, but a drove of horses grazing contentedly in 
 a pasture near the river, awaiting their turn to be sent out 
 into the mountains in the pack train of some sportsman 
 or mountaineer, gives life and animation to the scene. 
 On either side are two high mountains, conspicuous by 
 their unusual outlines and great altitude. The one to 
 the south is Rundle Mountain. It rises in a great curving 
 slope on its west side, and terminates in a rugged escarp- 
 ment with precipitous cliffs to th(; east, which tnwer in 
 wonderful grandeur more than 5000 feet above the flood 
 plains of the Bow River near its base. 
 
 On the opposite side is Cascade Mountain, which is 
 remarkable in being of almost identical height, and is in 
 
The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 fact just two feet lower, as determined by the topographi- 
 cal survey. The name of this mountain was given by 
 reason of a large stream which falls from ledge to ledge 
 down the cliffs of its eastern face in a beautiful cascade. 
 Both this and Rundle Mountain are composed of the old 
 Devonian and Carboniferous limestones, the strata of 
 which are plainly visible. The structure is that of a 
 great arch or anticline which has been completely over- 
 turned, so that the older beds are above the newer. 
 Several mil .s towards the east, the end of Devil's Lake 
 may be seen appearing through a notch in the mountains. 
 A fine road nine miles in length has been made to this 
 lake and is one of the most popular drives in the vicinity 
 of Banff. The lake is very long and narrow, about nine 
 miles in length by three fourths of a mile in extreme 
 breadth. The scenery is grand, but rather desolate, as the 
 bare mountain walls on either side o' the lake are not 
 relieved by forests or abundant vegetation of any kind. 
 The lake is, however, a great resort for sportsmen as it 
 abounds in large trout, of which one taken last year 
 weighed thirty-four pounds. The name of the lake gives 
 illustration of the tendency among savages and civilized 
 people to dedicate prominent objects of nature to the 
 infernal regions or the master spirit thereof. There is no 
 apparent limit to the number of places named after the 
 Devil and his realm, while the names suggested by more 
 congenial places are conspicuous by their absence. The 
 original name. Lake Peechee, was given by Sir George 
 Simpson in honor of his guide. 
 
I 
 
 Sir George Simpson. 
 
 i 
 
 •"I 
 
 The scattered threads of history which relate to this 
 part of the Rocky Mountains are suggested by th(;se 
 names and indeed this hike has an unusual interest for this 
 reason. In a region where explorations have been very 
 few and far between, and where only the vague traditions 
 of warlike events among the Indians form a great part of 
 the history, each fragment and det ul set forth by the old 
 explorers acquires an increased interest. 
 
 Previous to the arrival of the railroad surveyors, the 
 chief men on whom our attention centres are Sir George 
 Simpson, Mr. Rundle, and Dr. Hector. 
 
 The expedition of Sir George Simpson possesses much 
 of interest in every way He claims to have been the first 
 man to accomplish an overland journey around the world 
 from east to west. After having traversed the trreater 
 part of the continent of North America, he entered the 
 stupendous gates of the Rocky Mountains in the autumn 
 of 1841. He travelled witli wonderful rapidity, and was 
 wont to cover from twenty to sixty miles a day, according 
 to the nature of the country. His outfit consisted of a 
 large band of horses, about forty-five in number, attended 
 by cooks and packers sufficient for the needs of this great 
 expedition. Nevertheless the long cavalcade of animals, 
 when spread out in Indian file along the narrow trails were 
 difficult to manage, and it not infrequently happened that 
 on reaching camp several horses proved to be missing, a 
 fact which would necessitate some of the men returning 
 fifteen or twenty miles in search of them. 
 
 Passing to the south of the Devil's Head, a remark- 
 
 i . 
 
 < 
 

 8 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 able and conspicuous mountain wiiich may be rcco_srnized 
 far out on the plains, Sir George Simpson entered the 
 valley occupied by the lake. In this part of h's journey 
 he was guided by a half-breed Indian named Peechee, a 
 chief of the Mountain Crees. Peechee lived with his wife 
 and family on the bortlers of this lake, and Simpson 
 named it after him. a name, however, which never 
 gained currency. Dr. Dawson transferred the name to 
 a high mountain south of the lake, and substituted the 
 Indian name of Minnewanka, or in English, Devil's Lake. 
 
 The guide Peechee seems to have possessed much 
 influence among his fellows, and whenever, as was often 
 the case, the Indians gathered around their camp-f^res 
 and gossiped about their adventures, Peechee was listened 
 to with the closest attention on the part of all. Nothing 
 more delights the Indians than to indulge their passion for 
 idle talk when assemljled together, especially when under 
 the soothing and peaceful influence of tobacco, — a fact 
 that seems strange indeed to those who see them only 
 among strangers, where they are wont to be remarkably 
 silent. 
 
 A circumstance of Indian history connected with the 
 east end of the lake is mentioned by Sir George Simpson, 
 and admirably illustrates the nature of savage warfare. 
 A ». ree and his wife, a short time previously, had been 
 tracked and pursued by five Indians of a hostile tribe into 
 the mountains to a point near the lake. At length they 
 were espied and attacked by their pursuers. Terrified by 
 the fear of almost certain death, the Cree advised his wife 
 
¥ 
 
 An Indian Legend. 
 
 to submit without defending herself. She, however, was 
 possessed of a more courageous spirit, and repHed that as 
 thev were young and had but one Hfe to lose thev had 
 better put forth ever)- effort in self-defence. Accordingly 
 she raised her rifle and brought down the foremost warrior 
 with a well aimed shot. Her husband was now impelled 
 by desperation and shame to join the contest, and mor- 
 tally wounded two of the advancing foe with arrows. 
 There were now but two on each side. The fourth war- 
 rior had, however, by this time reached the Cree's wife and 
 with upraised tomahawk was on the point of cleaving her 
 head, when his foot caught in some inequality of the 
 ground and he fell prostrate. With lightning stroke the 
 undaunted woman buried her dagger in his side. Dis- 
 mayed by this unexpected slaughter of his companions, 
 the fifth Indian took to llight after woundintr the Cree in 
 his arm, 
 
 Rundle Mountain, which has been already mentioned 
 and which forms one of the most striking mountains in 
 the vicinity of Banff, is named after a Wesleyan mission- 
 ary who for many years carrried on h's pious labors 
 among the Indians in the vicinity of Edmonton. Mr. 
 Rundle once visited this region and remained camped for 
 a considerable time near the base of Cascade Mountain, 
 probably shortly after Sir George Simpson explored this 
 region. The work of Mr. Rundle among the Indians 
 appears to have been highly successful, if one may judge 
 by the present condition of the Stoneys, who are honest, 
 truthful, and but little given to the vices of civilization. 
 
 (, 
 
 
*ii, ""11 IIPJl 
 
 1 
 
 IMI 
 
 lO 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 Even to this clay the visitor may see them at Banff 
 dressed in partly civilized, partly savage attire, or on rare 
 occasions decked out in all the feathers and beaded belts 
 and moccasins that go to make up the sum total of savage 
 splendor. 
 
 Our attention comes at last to Dr. Hector, who was 
 connected with the Palliser expedition. It is exceed- 
 ingly unfortunate that the blue-book in which the vast 
 amount of useful information and interesting adventure 
 connected with this expedition is so clearly set forth 
 should be now almost cut of print. There are no availa- 
 ble copies in the United States or Canada and but very 
 few otherwise accessible. Dr. Hector followed up the 
 Bow River and passed the region now occupied by Banff 
 in the year 1858. He was accompanied by the perse- 
 vering and ever popular botanist, Bourgeau. Under the 
 magic spell of close observation and clear description, the 
 most commonplace affairs assume an unusual interest in 
 all of Dr. Hector's reports. It is very evident that 
 game was much more abundant in those early days than 
 at present. For instance, Dr. Hector's men shot two 
 mountain sheep near the falls of the Bow River, which are 
 but a few minutes' walk from the hotel. Likewise when 
 making a partial ascent of the Cascade Mountain, Dr. 
 Hector came on a large herd of these noble animals, con- 
 cerning which so many fabulous tales of their daring leaps 
 down awful precipices have been told. He also mentions 
 an interesting fact about the death of a mountain goat. 
 An Indian had shot a goat when far up on the slope of 
 
lO 
 
 Boii) Rivey and Cascade Mountain. 
 

 1 
 
 i 
 
 ii'J^ffl 
 
 1 k , 
 
 
 
 1 . . 
 
 
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 fa^l 
 
 
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 1 
 
 ^^^H^ 1 y^^n'^^^H 
 
 A 
 
 ^^^' 
 
 ^K^ 
 
 
 lit'-\ 
 
 \ 
 
 
 ^^A 'flH^\^\ J^' ^ 
 
 -#^ 
 
 \ * » ' 
 
 MiaM 
 
 
 
 
 
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 If 
 
 ■ ■::f 
 
 
 
 ^^\ . 
 
 
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 r^4_^ 
 
 < 
 
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 i: I 
 
 
 ':t 
 
IP 
 
 The Climate of lianff. 
 
 II 
 
 Cascade Mountain, but tlu; animal, though hatiiy wouiulccl, 
 niana_i((;(l to work its \va)' around to somv. inaccessible 
 clitls near tlu; cascade;. Here the poor animal linji[ered 
 for s(;ven days with no less than live bull(;ts in its body, 
 till at length death came and it f(;ll headlong down the 
 precipice. 
 
 The climate of HanH" during the months of July and 
 August is almost perfection. 'Vhv. high altitude of 4500 
 feet above; the sea-level nMulers the nights invariabl)- cool 
 and pleasant, whih; the mid-day heat rartdy reaches 80" in 
 the shade. There is but little rain during this itcriod 
 and in fact there an- Init two drawbacks, — mosquitoes and 
 forest-fire smoke. The mosquitoes, h.owever, are only 
 troublesome iii tht; deep woods or by the swampy tracts 
 near the river. The smoke from forest fires frequently 
 becomes so thick as to obscure the mountains and veil 
 them in a yellow pall through which the sun shines with 
 a weird light. 
 
 An effect of the high nortiiern latitude of this part of 
 the Rocky Mountains is to make the summer days very 
 long. In June and early July the sun does not set till 
 nine o'clock, and the twilight is so bright that fine print 
 can be read out doors till eleven o'clock, and in fact there 
 is more or less liglit at midnight. 
 
 In June and September one never knows what to 
 expect in the way of weather. I shall give two examples 
 which will set forth the possibilities of these months, 
 though one must not imagine that th(;y illustrate the 
 ordinary course of events. In the summer of 1895, 
 
 ( 
 
 ft 
 
13 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 after haviiiL^ siifftTcil from a Ioiil; period of intcMisely hot 
 weather in the east, I arrived at HaiitT on tlie 14th of 
 June. It was siiowiiij,^ and the station phitfonn was cov- 
 ered to a depth of six inches. The next day, howevt-r, 
 1 ascended Tunnel Mountain and found a most extraor- 
 dinary combination of summer and wintt-r effects. The 
 snow still remainc.'d ten or twelv(; inches deep on the 
 mountain sides, thouj^h it hail alread)" nearly disapi)eared 
 in the valle)-. Under this wintry mantle were man)' varie- 
 ties o( beautiful llowers in full bloom, and, most conspicu- 
 ous of all, wild roses in profusion, apparently uninjurtxi 
 by this unusually late snow-storm. 1 made a sad discov- 
 ery near the top of the mountain. S(;(Mn_<j a little bird 
 fly up from the j^^round apparently out from the snow, 
 I examined more closely and observed a narrow snow- 
 tunnel leading- down to the [ground. Removinjr the 
 snow 1 founil a ni^st containing,' four or five young birds 
 all dead, their feeble spark of life chilled away by the 
 damp snow, whilt: the mother bird had been, even when 
 I arrived, vainly trying to nurse them back to life. 
 
 This storm was said to be very unusual for the time 
 of year. The poplar trees in full summer foliage suffered 
 severely and were bent down to the ground in great 
 arches, from whicii oosition they did not fully recover 
 all summer, while ihe leaves were blighted by the frost. 
 As a general rule, lu> '^ever, mountain trees and herbs 
 possess an unusual vitalit)', and endure snow and frost or 
 prolonged dry weather in a remarkable manner. The 
 various flowers which were buried for a week by this late 
 
 4 
 
 « 
 
 'i 
 
 (* 
 

 ihc Mountains in Winter. 
 
 '3 
 
 storm appeared hrii^dit ami vijjforoiis after a few warm 
 days had ninovcil the snow. 
 
 Toward tlic end of September, 1S95, there were two 
 or three chiys of t.-xceptioiially cold weather, the ther- 
 mometer rec()rilin_i^ 6' l-'ahrcnheit one morninj^. i made 
 an ascent of Sulphur Mount. lin, a ridj^^e risinjj; about 
 3,000 feet above the valley, on the coUU^st ilay of that 
 period. The sun shone out of a sky «)f the clearest 
 blue without a sinj^de cloud except a f(;vv scattered wisps 
 of cirrus here and there. The mountain summit is cov- 
 ered with a few stra}j^,i,dinj4^ spruces which maintain a bare 
 existence at this altitude. The whole summit of the 
 mountain, the trees, and rocks were covered by a thick 
 mantle of snow, dry and powdery by reason of th(; severe 
 cold. The chill of the previous night had condensed a 
 beautiful frost over the surface of the snow everywhere. 
 Shining scales of transparent ice, thin as mica and some 
 half-inch across, stood on edge at all jjossible angles and 
 reflected the bright sunlitrht from thousands of brilliant 
 surfaces. This little glimpse of winter was even more 
 pleasing than the view from the summit, for the moun- 
 tains near Banff do not afford the mountain climber pfrand 
 panoramas or striking scenery. They tend to run in long 
 regular ridges, uncrowned by glaciers or extensive snow- 
 fields. 
 
 A never failing source of amusement to the residents 
 of Banff, as well as to those more experienced in mountain 
 climbing, is afforded by those lately arrived but ambitious 
 tourists who look up at the mountains as though they 
 
 ( 
 
i .1 
 
 h 
 
 H 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 were little hills, and proceed forthwith to scale the very 
 highest peak on the day of their arrival. A few years 
 ago some gentlemen became possessed of a desire to 
 ascend Cascade Mountain and set off with the intention 
 of returning the next day at noon. Instead of following 
 the advice of those who knew the best route, they would 
 have it that a course over Stoney Squaw Mountain, an 
 intervening high ridge, was far better, Tiiey returned 
 three days later, after having wandered about in burnt 
 timber so long that, begrimed with charcoal, they could 
 not be recognized as white men. It is not known whether 
 they ever so much as reached the base of Cascade Moun- 
 tain, but it is certain that they .-etired to bed upon arriv- 
 ing at the hotel and remained there the greater part of 
 the ensuing week, 
 
 Cascade Mountain, however, is a difficult mountain 
 to ascend, not because there are steep cliffs «ji rough 
 places to overcome, but because almost every one takes 
 the wrong slope. This leads to a loft}' escarpment, and 
 just when the mountaineer hopes to find himself on the 
 summit, the real mountain appear'^ beyond, while a great 
 gulf separates >he two peaks and removes the possibility 
 of making the ascent that day. 
 
 Banff, with its fine drives and beautiful scenery, its 
 luxurious hotels and delightful climate, will ever enjoy 
 popularity among tourists. The river above the falls is 
 wide and deep and flows with such gentle current as to 
 render boating safe nnd delightful. The Vermilion lakes, 
 with their low reedy shores and swarming wild fowl, offer 
 
 I !l 
 
Vermilion Lakes. 
 
 15 
 
 charmiiijj;' places for the canoe and oarsman, at least wlien 
 the mosquitoes, the great pest of our \v(-stern plains .uul 
 mountains, temporarily disappear. Nevertheless, tiu,- cli- 
 mate of Banff partakes of tin; som(.'\vhat dryer nature o' 
 the lesser antl more eastern sub-ran-i^es of the Rocky Moun- 
 tains. There is not sufficient moisture to nourish tlie 
 rich for ?sts, vast snow-fields, and thunderino- o^laciers of 
 the higher ranges to tlu; west, which in imagination we 
 shall visit in the ensuing chapters. 
 
 ( 
 
 RJNDLE MOUNTAIN AND BOW RIVER. 
 
i| 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Lake Louise — First Impressions — An Abode of Perpetual Winter — 
 The Chalet — / 'isitors — Stirring Tales of Aiivt nture — Primeval Forests — 
 Forest Fir's — Mosquitoes ami Bull-Dog Flies — Aforlal Combats bctioee, 
 JVasps and Bull- Dogs — The Old Chalet — Morning on the Lake— Approach 
 of a Storm — Sublimity of a Mountain Thunder- Storm — Cloud Effects — 
 The Lake in October — A Magnificent Avalanche from Mt. Lefroy — A 
 IVaining of Approaching Winter. 
 
 LAKE LOUISE is one of the most beautiful 
 sheets of water in the Canadian Rockies. Many 
 who have travelled extensively say it is the 
 most charming spot they have ever beheld. The lake 
 is small, but there is a harmonious blending of grandeur 
 and quiet beauty in the surrounding mountains which 
 in some way makes a perfect picture out of lofty snow 
 peaks in the dista .ce and dark forested slopes near at 
 hand. 
 
 The lake is a little more than a mile long and about 
 one fourth of a mile wide. The outline is rem.ukably 
 like that of the left human foot. Forests come down 
 nearly to the water's edge on all sides of the lake, but 
 there is a narrow margin of rough angul ir stones where 
 the ripples from the lake have washed out the soil a^i 
 
 
 I 
 
First Impressions. 
 
 17 
 
 even undermined the trees in some places. The water is 
 a bUie-i^reen color, so clear that the stones on the bot- 
 tom and the old water-logged trunks of trees, long since 
 wrested from the siiores by storms and avalanches, may 
 be discerned even in several fathoms of water. The lake 
 is 230 feet deep in the centre, and the bottom slopes down 
 very suddenly from the shores. 
 
 The west shore makes a gently sinuous or wavy line, 
 forming little bays and capes. Ever new and artistic 
 foregrounds are thus presented, with the forest making a 
 retreatinor line of vewtation down the shore. Nothing 
 could be more beaut-.'ul than this border of the lake, 
 rough and tangled though it is, with a strange mingling 
 of sharp bouUlers and prostrate trees covered with moss 
 and half concealed by copses of alder bushes and flowering 
 shrubs. 
 
 I shall never forget my first view of L'lke Louise. 
 From the station, the old trail, constantly ascending as it 
 approaches the lake, leads its irregular course through 
 the forest. After a walk of nearly three miles, partial 
 glimpses of the 'ake and surrounding mcuntains were 
 obtained from amcMig the tall spruce trees, A short 
 rapid descent of a small ridge placed us on the borders 
 of the lake. 
 
 It would be difficult indc;^! to give even a partial de- 
 scription of the scene. Imagi.ie a cool -norning with the 
 rising sun just beginning to touch the surface of a moun- 
 tain lake. The air is trannvtil and calm so that the glassy 
 surface of the water mirrors the sky and mountains per- 
 
 ( 
 
HHH 
 
 ! ! 
 
 i8 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 fectly. In the realm of sound, too, all is repose but for the 
 call of birds near at hand among the balsam trees. From 
 the shores of the lake on either side rise great mountains, 
 showing cliffs and rocky ledges or long sweeping slopes 
 of forest to the tree line. Higher still are bare slopes, 
 crags, ledges, and scattered areas of snow. At the end 
 of the lake a great notch in the nearer mountains reveals 
 at a distance the wall-like, lofty mass of Mount Lefroy. 
 This m; .'t imposing snowy mountain stands square across 
 the gap, a th a sharp serrated cliff piercing the very 
 
 vault of hea . .n, shuts off the view and forms the most 
 conspicuous object of all. The lower part of the moun- 
 tain is a vertical cliff or precipice where the longitudinal 
 strata are distinctly visible. Above, rise alternating slopes 
 covered with perpetual snow and hanging glaciers, the 
 white-blue ice of which is splintered by deep rents and 
 dark yawning crevasses. This mountain forms part of 
 the continental water-shed, for on the other side the melt- 
 iny; snows finally reach the Pacific Ocean, while on the 
 near side the snows swept into the valleys by avalanches, 
 and melted by the warmer air of lower altitudes, find their 
 way at length into the Saskatchewan River and Hudson 
 Bay. 
 
 There is something wonderfully attractive about this 
 mountain. The pleasure grows as one continues to gaze 
 at the immense mass ; harsh and stern and cold though it 
 be, it excites awe and wonder as thougii here were the 
 rocky foundation and substratum of the globe. This is 
 the abode of perpetual winter, where ice and snow and 
 
 I '■ 
 
 '•^- 
 
< 
 
 Lake Louise. 
 
in 
 
Vis- 
 
 < 
 
I 
 
 ""•pijr""'"!*"" -—•^■^~ 
 
 ' 
 
Mountain Flowers. 
 
 •9 
 
 bleak rocks exist apart. Here all is graiul but menacin<^, 
 clan.trerous. and forbiddin.L,r. And these lii^h mountains and 
 deep valleys, sut^jrestin^r that some awful storm at sea had 
 become petrified into colossal waves to stand at rest for- 
 (.'ver. have been carved out by rain and runnin<,r water, frost 
 and chancre of temperature, through the lapse of count- 
 less ages. 
 
 Our attention finally came to the quiet beauty of the 
 surrounding vegetation, where among the scattered skir- 
 mishers of the forest are flowering shrubs, and in the more 
 open grassy places forming the swampy borders of the 
 lake, are many bright flowers. The white mountain anem- 
 ones in several varieties, the familiar violets, the yellow 
 columbine with beautiful pendent blossoms claiming re- 
 lationship to its Eastern cousin with scarlet flowers^ the 
 fragrant spiranthes. and orchids with pale-green flowers, 
 resembling insects on a leafy stem, may all be seen in 
 profusion near the north side of the lake. These humble 
 herbs, with their gaudy coloring, are the growth of a sin- 
 gle season, but on all sides are copses of bushy plants 
 which endure the long winter, some of them clad in a garb 
 of evergreen and, like the annual plants, bearing'ele- 
 gant floral creations. The most conspicuous is the sheep 
 laurel, a small bush adorned with a profusion of crimson- 
 red flowers, each saucer-shaped, hanging in corymbs 
 among the small green leaves. Various shrubs with 
 white flowers, some small and numerous, others large and 
 scattered, make a contrast to the ever present laurel, while 
 the most beautiful of all is a species of mountain rhodo- 
 
 ( 
 
 w 
 
f 
 
 20 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 dciulron, a lartjt! biisii, tlic most tdetjant amoiii; the moun- 
 tain heaths, with hirLji; wiiitc; llowcrs in ckistered umbels. 
 In earl J' Jul)- this bush may be found, here and there, scat- 
 tered sparintjly in the forest in full blossom at the level 
 of Lake Louise, but after this one must seek ever hiy^her 
 on the mountain sitle as the advancinjj^ summer creeps to 
 altitudes where spring is later. 
 
 The early morninj^ visitor turns with sharpened appe- 
 tite to the hotel, if wc; may call it such, — a little Swiss chalet 
 of picturesque architecture built on an eminence in full view 
 of the lake. Here the tourist may live in rustic comfort for 
 a day, or for weeks, should he desire to prolong his visit. 
 
 Tourists come sparinj^ly to Lake Louise. Unlike 
 Banff with its varied attractions, there is little here out- 
 side of nature, and few have the power to appreciate 
 nature alone. Of those who do come, only a small 
 number really see the lake with its forests and mountains 
 combined in exquisite attractiveness. They see the out- 
 lines of mountains, but know not whether they are near 
 or distant, nor whether their scale is measured in yards or 
 miles ; they see the water of the lake, but not the reflec- 
 tions in it, the ever changing effects of light and shade, 
 sun and shadow, ripple and calm. There are trees tall 
 and slender, but whether they be spruce or pine, larch or 
 hemlock, is all the same ; and as to the Howers — some are 
 differently colored from others. 
 
 A visitor to the lake once asked in good faith, appar- 
 ently, if the mountains at the head of the lake were not 
 white from chalk ; another, why the water of the stream 
 
 ■J 
 
 
Visitors. 
 
 31 
 
 — which leads out from tlic hike and riisht^s in roaring 
 cascatlcs over its rocky channel towanl the How River — 
 runs so fast down hill. 
 
 Fortunately, however, those who are not blessed with 
 that ever present source; of pleasure, a lov<; for nature, at 
 least to a sliij;ht det^ree, are exc(;ptional. Nevertheless, 
 that most people lose much pleasure from a lack of close 
 observation is often painfully evident. I have seen, alto- 
 ifether. several luiiulred tourists arrive at the lake, coming 
 as they do in small parties, or singly, from day to day, 
 and have found it a very interesting stuily to observe 
 their first impressions as the lake bursts on their view. 
 Some remain motionless studying the details of the scene, 
 usually devoting their chief attention to the lake and for- 
 ests, but less to the mountains, for mountains an; the least 
 appreciated of all the wonders of nature, and are not fully 
 revealed except after years of experience. Others glance 
 briefly and superficially towards the lake, and rush hastily 
 into the chalet for breakfast, balancing their love for 
 nature against hunger for material things in uneven scale. 
 Some remain a week or ten days, but the great majority 
 spend a single day and leave, feeling that they have ex- 
 hausted the charms of the place in so short a time. A single 
 day amid surroundings where there are such infinite possi- 
 bilities of change in cloud and storm, heat and cold, the 
 dazzling glare of noon, or the calm rorr:., ;tlc light of a 
 full moon, and the .slow progress of the seasons, gives but 
 one picture, a single mood from out a thousand, and it 
 may perchance be the very worst of all. 
 
 n 
 
 i 
 
r 
 
 33 
 
 The C.inailian Rockies. 
 
 Upon (liiiibin!:j the steps to th(! opiiii porch of tlie 
 cliaht iiiul (•ntcrint,^ the larLjf spacious sittiny-rooiii, ihr. 
 eye falls at one*- on a tircplacc of old-tiiiic proportions, 
 and within its walls of brick, lui^c loj^^s art; burniniL;, with 
 more vij^or iiuUuul hnt hardly less constancy' than the 
 ancient firt-s of the W.'stal V'irjjfins. Round this sjiacious 
 hearth visitors and j^niests j^ather, for tlur air at Lake 
 Louise; is always sharp at niornin|:; and (•veninL,^ Indeed, 
 frosts an; not rare throuj^hout the summer and may occur 
 am' week even in hilv and Au<rust. Tin; hisdi altituiU; of 
 tlu; lake, which is a litth; more than 5600 feet above 
 sea-level, is in i^aeat part the cause of this braciny; 
 weather. On th(; hottest day that I have; t;verseen at the 
 lake in tin; course of three summers the thermometer 
 reijistered only 78". 
 
 The visitors who come to Lake Louise are of the s; 
 cosmopolitan charact(;r and varied nationality as those at 
 Banff. Often of a cold niii^ht have I sat by the large fire, 
 our only source of light, and listened to tales of adventure 
 told by those who have visited the most distant ami un- 
 frequented parts of the earth. Englishmen, who have 
 spent the best years of their life in India, were among 
 our entertainers, and while beverages varying in nature 
 according to nationality or tastes of each were passed 
 around, I have heard thrilling accounts of leopard and 
 tiger hunts in the jungle, blood-curdling tales of treachery 
 and massacre or daring exploits in the Indian wars, and 
 rare experiences in unknown parts of Cashmere and 
 Thibet. 
 
I'iiiiic\al I'\)rcsts. 
 
 33 
 
 Thoujjfh tlu: ^Tcat majority of visitors to the lake arc 
 straiij;t;rs, thort; arc some half-dozen whose familiar faces 
 reap|)(;ar each successive season ; like piii^rims they make 
 this reji,Mon the termination of a lonn annual journey, and 
 he*-e worship in " tenv ' -s not built by human hamls." 
 Amou}^ these lovers of nature, far distant linj^dantl anil 
 Ceylon are repr«3sented no less than the nc.-arer cities of 
 the LJnit('d Stat(;s. The peculiar charms of this locality 
 present an incxhaustibU? treasurehouse of deliL,ditful ex- 
 periences that grow by familiarity. One's impressions of 
 the beauty of the lake increase j'ear by year as the full 
 ineanini; of each detail becomes more thoroughly ap- 
 preciated. 
 
 A fact of great importanc -■, which goes far to make up 
 the ciiscmblc of the surroundings of Lake Louise, is the 
 perfect condition of th<i forests, which rise in uniform, 
 swelling slopes of dark-green verdure from the rocky 
 shores of the lake far up the mountain sides to those 
 high altitudes where the cold air suggests an eternal winter 
 and dwarfs the struL^'dingf trees itito mere bushes. The 
 frequent forest fires, which have wrought so much destruc- 
 tion throughout the entire Canadian Rockies, have not as 
 yet swept through this valley. The great spruces and 
 balsams of this primeval forest indicate by their size that 
 for hundreds of years no fire has been through this region. 
 Some large tree stumps near the chalet show hundreds of 
 rings, and one that I counted started to grow in the year 
 1492, when Columbus set forth to discover the western 
 world. 
 
 
 i 
 
i( 
 
 24 
 
 Tlic Canadian Rockies. 
 
 % 
 
 NcvcTtlu'U.'ss, on hot days after a lono period of dry 
 weather, when tlie air is lachn with the fras^rant odor of 
 ih.e tlri|)|)in_i; balsam aiul of the ch')- resin lianleiied in yellow 
 tears on the scarred trunks of the trcv-s, and when the 
 dead lower branches huPt; with lono ,i;ray moss seem to 
 offer all the most combustible n^aterials, one feels certain 
 that the sliohtest spark would result in a terrible conlla- 
 j^ ration. Apparently, however, the past history of this 
 vall(.')' lias nevi'r recorded a fire, whether start(!d by care- 
 less Indian hunters or that frecpient cause, lii^htninLj. 
 So far as I am aware, there are no laycs of burii:tl char- 
 coal or ri'ddeiu il soil uniler the present forest which 
 woi:Id indicati' an jiiicient lue. 
 
 Some y«'ars as^o — apparently more than twenty, — a 
 tu-e destrov<'d the forest near tlu; station of La}j;;<4an, which 
 is less th.i!) two miles from the lake in a straij^ht line. 
 I he tire approachcl within a mile of the lake and then 
 dii'd out. There are two causes which will always tend 
 to preserve these beautiful forests if tli(; visitors are not 
 careless and counteract them. The prevalent wind is out 
 of tht^ valley toward the Hcnv valley, so that a fire would 
 naturally be swept away from the lake. Anoth(;r cause 
 is the natural moisture of this upland region, The v(Ty 
 luxuriance of the vesj^etation indicates this, while in the early 
 inor-uu!^ the whole forest often si'ems reekinji^ with moist- 
 ure, even when there has been no rain for weeks. The 
 I hill of night appears to condense a lieavy dew under the 
 trees and moistens ali the veoretation, so that the forest 
 rarely becomes so exceedingly dry as often happens in 
 wide vallevs at lower altitudes. 
 
Mosi|iiit()is aii'I lUilI-Doi^s. 
 
 25 
 
 Though the scenery and cliinale at Lake Lonise seem 
 aliiUist iileally perfect during; the summer time, nature 
 always ren Icrs compensation in some form or other, and 
 never allows her creatures to enjo_\- complete happin<'ss. 
 
 I'he borders of the lake and the damp woods linked myriads 
 of mos(|uiloes, which conspire to annoy and torture both 
 man and heast. riu;y appear earl)' in sprino and sud- 
 denly vanish about the 15th or 20th of August each )'ear. 
 
 Tlu' chill of niqht causes them to disap|)ear about ten 
 o'clock in the evcMiini;, not to be seen a^ain until the 
 atmosphere begins to <;row warm in tht^ mornint; sun. 
 
 Another insect pest is a species of lly called tlu; " l)ull- 
 doij, " a name sug<^esti;d by its ferocious bite. These 
 lari^e insects are about an inch in length and art; armed 
 with a formidabk; set of saws with which they can rapidly 
 cut a considerable hole throuj^h the skin of a man or the 
 hiil(! of a horse. The bull-do^s frecju(.'nt the valleys of th(; 
 Canadian Rockies, varyins^ locally in their numbers, and 
 seem to prefer low altitudes and a considerable deorct; 
 of heat, for they are always most voracious and numerous 
 on hot dry days. These (lies, when numerous, will almost 
 make a horse frantic. Their bite feels lik(; a fiery cinder 
 slowly burnint^ throuLjh the skin, but fortunatt^ly they do 
 not cause much trouble to man, for they are led by instinct 
 to seek the rouijh surfaces of animals and almost invariably 
 li_i,dit on the; clothes insteail of th(; hau'-ior face. They 
 have a most blood-thirsty and cruel ^ nemy in the wasp, 
 anil if it were not for tlu; inexhaustible supply of the bi '1- 
 doos, the wasps would annihilate tin; species. Nothinjj^ 
 in the habits of insects could l)e mor(; intert^stintr than the 
 
 1 
 
 I ' •; 
 
 I 
 i 
 
rrr 
 
 !■ 
 
 26 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 strano^e manner in which the wasps set out deliberately in 
 pursuit of a bull-tloo' fly, to overtake and seize; th(; clumsy 
 AJctim in mid air. Both insects fall to the ground with a 
 t(;rrihle buzzing and much circling about while the mad 
 contest goes on. Meanwhile the wasp works with the 
 rapidity of lightning, and with its sharp powerful jaws dis- 
 severs legs and wings, which fall scattered in the melee, 
 till the bull-dog is rendered helpless and immovable. 
 Last of all, the wasp cuts off the head of its victim, then 
 leaves the lifeless and limbless body in order to continue 
 the chase. 
 
 I have seen a wasp thus dismember and kill one of 
 these large fhes in less than thirty seconds. They seem 
 to perform their murderous acts out of pure pleasure, as 
 they do not linger over their prey after the victim is dead. 
 
 The water of Lake Louise is too cold to admit of 
 bathing except in a very brief manner. The temperature 
 of the water near the first of August is about 56". 
 
 The old chalet, built in rustic fashion with unhewn 
 logs, was placed near the lake shore much closer than the 
 present building. One day in 1893, when every one was 
 absent, the building caught fire and burned to the ground. 
 Remarkably enough the forest did not take fire, though 
 some of the trees were close to the building. 
 
 Usually in the early morning, before the sun has 
 warmed the atmosphere and started the breezes of day- 
 time into motion, the lake is tranquil and its surface 
 resembles a great mirror. About nine o'clock, the first 
 puffs of wind begin to make little cat's-paws at the far 
 
"^:H 
 
 has 
 day- 
 rface 
 
 \] rst 
 far 
 
 Approach of a Storm. 27 
 
 end of the lake, which widen and extend until finally the 
 whole water becomes rippled. A gentle breeze* continues 
 to sweep down the lake from the snow mountains toward 
 the Bow valley all day long, and the water rarely becomes 
 smooth till after sunset. This is the usual order of events 
 in fair weather, a condition which may continue for several 
 weeks without a drop of rain. 
 
 The approach and progress of a storm, the wonderful 
 atmospheric changes attending it, and the ever moving 
 clouds obscuring the mountain tops reveal the lake in 
 the full grandeur of its surroundings. An approaching 
 storm is first announced by scattered wisps of cirrus 
 cloud, which move slowly and steadily from the west in 
 an otherwise blue sky. In the course of twenty-four 
 hours the cirrus clouds have become so thick that they 
 often resemble a thin haze far above the highest moun- 
 tains. The sun with paled light can no longer pierce this 
 ever thickening hazy veil. The wind blows soft and warm 
 from out the south or southwest, and generally brings up 
 the smoke of forest fires from the 1 .it ific coast, and ren- 
 ders the atmosphere still more obscure, till at Nngth the 
 sun appears like a great ball of brass set in a copp-r) sky. 
 The trees and grass appear to change their color .uul 
 assume a strange vivid shade of green in the weird light. 
 Sometimes light feathery ashes are wafted over the high 
 mountains south of the lake and settle down gently like 
 flakes of snow. The falling barometer announces the 
 coming storm, and presently another layer of clouds, the 
 low-lying cumulus, form just above the highest peaks and 
 
 r .! 
 
 M 
 
 VW 
 
r 
 
 /tT"*- 
 
 MSi::iT-' ii'iiiin-i 
 
 28 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 !l I 
 
 settle gradually lower till they touch the mountain tops. 
 Rain soon follows, the clouds settle till they almost rest 
 on the water of the lake, and the wind increases in violence. 
 
 Sometimes thunder-storms of considerable fury sweep 
 through the valley and among the mountains, one after 
 another for several days. A violent thunder-storm at 
 night among these lofty mountains is one of the grandest 
 phenomena of nature. The battling of the elements, the 
 unceasing roar of the wind in the forest, and the crash of 
 thunder redoubled by echoes from the rocky clififs, — all con- 
 spire to fill the imagination with a terrible picture of the 
 majesty and sublimity of nature. From the lake there 
 comes up a low, hoarse murmur, not the roar of ocean 
 surf, but the lesser voice of a small mountain lake lashed 
 to fury and beating with its small waves on a rocky shore. 
 The noise of the forest, the sound of colliding branches 
 as the tall trees sway to and fro in the furious wind, and 
 the frequent crack and crash of dead forest giants over- 
 come by the elements form the dull but fearful monotone, 
 above which the loud rumble of thunder rises in awful 
 grandeur. These are the sounds of a mountain storm. 
 
 The bright flashes of lightning reveal a companion 
 picture, for in the momentary light succeeded by absolute 
 darkness the lake is revealed covered with foamy white 
 caps. The forests on the mountain side seem to yield to 
 the blast like a field of wheat in a summer breeze, and the 
 circling clouds sweep about the mountain slopes and con- 
 ceal all but their bases. 
 
 Should the storm clear away during the daytime one 
 
Cloud Effects. 
 
 29 
 
 may witness <jrand cloud effects. The low-hanjring masses 
 of clouds left behind by the battlino^ elements slow!)- rise 
 and occasionally reveal small areas of blue sky amonjf the 
 moving- vapors. Gentle i)uffs of air sweep over the calm 
 surface of th(! water, making little areas of ripples here 
 and tliere, only to be succeeded by a tranquil calm, as if 
 the storm spirit were sending forth his dying gasps inter- 
 mittently. While the air is thus calm below, the circling 
 wisps of vapor high up on the mountain, rising and descend- 
 ing, show that the battle between the sun and the clouds is 
 still ra^rintr. From above the saturated forests, the rising 
 vapors condense and increase in size till at length, caught 
 in some counter-current, they are swept away or carried 
 downward, while the dissolving cloud spreads out in wisps 
 and streamers till suddenly it disappears into transparent 
 air, — a veritable cloud ghost. At length the mountain 
 tops appear once more, white in a light covering of new 
 snow, and, as the great masses of cumulus rise and disap- 
 pear the sky appears of that deep blue-black color pecul- 
 iar to mountain altitudes, while the sun shines out with 
 dazzling brilliancy "hrough the clear atmosphere. 
 
 The last visit I made to Lake- Louise was toward the 
 middle of October, 1895. A very snowy, disagreeable 
 September had been followed by a long period of milder 
 weather with much bright sunshine. The new snow, 
 which had been quite deep near the lake, had altogether 
 disappeared except high up on the mountain side. It 
 was the true Indian summer, a season with a certain mel- 
 low charm peculiar to it alone, characterized by clea 
 
 , i ) 
 
 < 
 
 I r 
 
 I •,! 
 
i/- 
 
 30 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 sunny weather, a cahn atmosphere, a low, ridini^r sun, and 
 short days. Most of the flowers were withered. The 
 deciduous bushes, latel)- brilliant from frost, were rap- 
 idly losin_t( their foliage, and the larches were decked in 
 pale yellow, far up near the tree line. However, the 
 greater part of the vegetation is evergreen, and the 
 spruces, balsams, and pines, the heaths, ericaceous plants, 
 and the mosses contrive to set winter at nought by wear- 
 ing the garb of a perpetual summer in a region where 
 snow covers the ground three fourths of the year. 
 
 I could not resist the temptation as the morning train 
 rolled up to the station at Laggan to get off for the day 
 and make another visit to the lake. The sunrise had 
 been unusually brilliant and there was every promise of 
 a fine day. There is rarely much color at sunrise or sun- 
 set in the mountains. The dry clear atmosphe'"e has 
 little power to break up the white light into rainbow 
 colors and give the brilliancy of coloring to be seen near 
 the sea-coast or in the lowlands. The tints are like the 
 air itself — pure, cold, and clear. With more truth they 
 might be called delicate shades or color suggestions. 
 They recall those exquisite but faint hues seen in topaz 
 or tourmaline crystals, or transparent quartz crystals, 
 wherein the minutest trace of some foreign mineral has 
 developed rare spectrum colors and imprisoned them 
 forever. Oftimes the snow of the mountain tops is thus 
 tinted a bright clear pink, beautifully contrasted against 
 the intensely blue sky. I have never seen a deep red on 
 the mountains or clouds at these altitudes. The effect 
 
The Lake in ( )ct()l)cr. 
 
 31 
 
 of forest-fin; sinoki; is to '/wt: imidcly colors: the sun 
 resembles a brazen i^Iobc, and the sky becomes coppery 
 in appearance. 
 
 After lireakfast al the station house, I set off over the 
 hard frozen road toward th(.' lake. I carried my camera 
 and luncheon on my back, my only companion beinjr a 
 small dog which appeared ready for exercise. The air 
 was frosty and cold ; the low-riding sun had not as yet 
 struck into the forest trees and removed the rime from 
 the moss and leaves on the ground. 
 
 In somewhat less than an hour, I arrived at the lake. 
 All was deserted ; the chalet closed, the keeper gone, 
 and the tents 
 taken down. 
 E V e n the 
 boats, which 
 usually rest- 
 ed near the 
 shore, had 
 b e e n p u t 
 under cover. 
 The cold air 
 was perfectly 
 calm, antl my 
 
 vapory breath ^^Qi9^'^^^<^^JB[^^^^^^^^!'9^i^' 
 
 rose straight 
 
 , ,,\, LAKE LOUISE LOOKING TOWARD CHALET. 
 
 upwards. I he 
 
 mirror surface of the water was disturbed by some wild 
 
 fowl — black ducks and divers — whicii swarm on the lake 
 
 ' ^^n^^^ 
 
 ■iiS'-.S!^ 
 
 I: . 
 
 1 
 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 ( 
 
 t 
 
 1 
 1 
 
 r 
 
 < 
 
 i 
 
I 
 
 jTT 
 
 mm 
 
 32 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 
 at tliis season. Their splashings, and the harsh cries of 
 the divers came faintly over the water. It seemed 
 strange that these familiar haunts could appear so fear- 
 fully wild and lonely merely because man had resij;ned 
 his claim to the place and nature now ruled alone. All 
 at once a wild unearthly wail from across the water, 
 the cry of a loon, one of the most melancholy of all 
 sounds, startled me, and gave warning that activity alone 
 could counteract the effect of the imagination. 
 
 Accordingly I walked down the right shore of the lake 
 with the intention of going several miles u[) the valley and 
 taking some photographs of Mount Lefroy. The flat 
 bushy meadows near the upper end of the lake were 
 cold, and all the plants and reedy grass were white with 
 the morning frost. The towering cliffs and castle-Uke 
 battlements of the mountains on the south side of the 
 valley shut out the sun, and promised to prevent its 
 genial rays from warming this spot till late in the after- 
 noon, if at all, for a period of several months. In the 
 frozen ground, as I followed the trail, I saw the tracks 
 of a bear, made probably the day before. Bruin had gone 
 up the valley somewhere and had not returned as yet, so 
 there was a possibility of making his acquaintance. 
 
 I was well repaid for my visit this day, as a magnificent 
 avalanche fell from Mount Lefroy. Mount Lefroy is a 
 rock mountain rising in vertical cliffs from between two 
 branches of a glacier which sweep round its base. A 
 hanging glacier rests on the highest slope of the moun- 
 tain, and, ascending some distance, forms a vertical face of 
 
'& 
 
 M 
 
 A Magnificent Avalanche. 
 
 33 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 
 ic(! nearly three huiulred feet thick at the top of a yreat 
 precipice. The hij^hest rid_>i[e of the mountain is covcri'd 
 with an overhansj^inj^" cornic(.' of snow, which the storm 
 winds from ih(^ W(;st have built out till it appears to n^ach 
 full one hundred feet over the (jrjacier below. At times, 
 masses of ice break off from the hangins^ j^lacier and fall 
 with thunderinii^ crashes to the valley far below. 
 
 I was standint:^ at a point some two miles distant 
 lookin^r at this imposinji^ mountain, when from the viTtical 
 ice wall a great fragment of the glacier, some three hun- 
 dred feet thick and several times as long, broke away, and. 
 slowly turning in mid-air, began to fall through the airy 
 abyss. In a few seconds, amid continued siU.nce, for the 
 sound had not yet reached me, the great mass struck a 
 projecting ledge of rock after a fall of some half thousand 
 feet, and at the shock, as though by some inward explosion, 
 the block was shivered into thousands of smaller fragments 
 and clouds of white powdery ice. Simultaneously came 
 the first thunder of the avalanche. The larger pieces led 
 the way, some whirling around in mid-air, others gliding 
 downward like meteors with long trains of snowy ice dust 
 trailing behind. The finer powdered debris followed after, 
 in a long succession of white streamers and curtains re- 
 sembling cascades and waterfalls. The loud crash at the 
 first great shock now developed into a prolonged thimder 
 wherein were countless lesser sounds of the smaller pieces 
 of ice. It was like the sound of a great battle in which the 
 sharp crack of rifles mingles with the roar of artillery. 
 Leaping from ledge to ledge with ever increasing velocity, 
 
 I 
 
 i i 
 
 I' 
 
 'ft! 
 
' i 
 
 'l-^ MHIH ■ ■■ ■ ■ 
 
 34 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 V I 
 
 the hirger fratjmcnts at lentjth reached the bottom of the 
 precipice, whiUt now a \o\v^ white train extended nearly 
 the whole heitj^ht of the jj^rantl mountain wall 2500 feet 
 from hase to top. 
 
 Imagine a precipice sixteen times higher than Niagara, 
 nearly perpendicular, and built out of hard llinty santlstone. 
 At the top of this giant wall, picture a great glacier with 
 blue ice three hundred fec.-t thick, crevassed and rent into 
 a thousand yawning caverns, and crowding downwards, 
 ever threatening to launch masses of ice large as great 
 buildings into the valley below. Such avalanches are 
 among the most sublime and thrilling spectacles that 
 nature affords. The eye alone is incapable of appreciating 
 the vast scale of them. The long period of silence at first 
 and the thunder of the falling ice reverberated among the 
 mountain-walls produce a better impression of the distance 
 and magnitude. 
 
 I arrived at the lower end of the lake toward one 
 o'clock. The lake was only disturbed in one long narrow 
 strip toward the middle by a gentle breeze while all the 
 rest was perfectly calm. This was one of those rare days 
 of which each year only affords two or three, when the 
 lake is calm at midday under a clear sky. The mirror 
 surface of the water presented an inverted image of the 
 mountains, the trees on the shore, and the blue sky. The 
 true water surface and the sunken logs on the bottom of 
 the lake joined with the reflected objects in forming a 
 puzzling composite picture. 
 
 The brilliant sun had taken away the chill of morning 
 
 rf# 
 
Approach in<4' Winter. 
 
 35 
 
 and coaxcid forth a few forest birds, hiii tlu-rc wi-rc no llow- 
 i:rs or Ijuttcrllics to recall real sumiiicr. it seemed as 
 thouj^h this were the last expirinj^^ effort ol aiitiinin before; 
 the cold of winter should descend into the valU y and with 
 its rini4'(-'r on the lips of nature cover the landscape with a 
 deep mantle of snow anil bind the lake in a riijid layer of 
 ice. I'lvi'ii at this warmest |)eriod of the ilay the -.un's rays 
 seemed inelTicient to ht;at the atmos|)iiere, while from the 
 cold shadows of the forest came a warning that winter was 
 lurking near at hand, soon to swi.'cp down and I'ule unin- 
 terrupted for a period of nine long months. 
 
 iH 
 
 V 
 
 i 
 
 J i 
 
f'^., 
 
 '^l 
 
 
 CHAPTKR III. 
 
 Surroiini/i/igs of tlic l.akc — J'oiitioii of Mounlains hik/ I'a/Ieys — 77ii' 
 S/'riici' (iH(/ Jhihain Firs — The J.y all's Larch — Alpine /'loicrrs — 7'he 
 7'rtiil tiW(>//x the Cliffs — 'The liiehite, a Monument of the J'list — I.ahe 
 .Ix'/ies, ti Lake of Solitude — Summit oj the LJeehive — Lake Louise in the 
 Distant J'uture. 
 
 AMONG tilt: mountains on all sides of Lake Louise 
 are many scenes of unusual beauty and i^randeur. 
 While the lake itself must be considered the 
 local point of this region, and is indeed wonderfully 
 attractive by reason of its rare settinj^, the encirclinj^ 
 mountains are so roujj^h and hij^h, the valleys separatinuf 
 them so deep and gloomy, yet withal so beautiful, that 
 the scenery ap|)roaches perfection. The forces of nature 
 have here wroui^jht to their utmost and thrown together 
 in apparently wild ccmfusion some of the highest moun- 
 tains in Canada anu carved out gloomy gorge and rocky 
 precipice till the eye becomes lost in the complexity of it 
 all. Lakes and waterfalls reveal themselves among the 
 rich dark forests of the valleys, and afford beautiful fore- 
 grounds to the distant snov; mountains which seem to 
 tower ever hiirher as one ascends. 
 
 A brief description of the topography in the vicinity of 
 Lake Louise would be now in place. Southwestvvard from 
 
I 
 
 1 
 
 The Suniniil Range. 
 
 J/ 
 
 tin: lake is a ranj^t- of vci*)' h\^h ami rujLjji^rd mountains 
 coxcrcd with snow and j^lacicrs. This ranj^i- is tlu' crest 
 of the contint-nt of North Ani( rica, in fact the jt^rcat 
 watt i-shfd which (Hvidcs the Athmtic and Pacitic ch-ain- 
 a^c. In this ran^c arc many jxaks ovt-r ii.ood Icct 
 above sea k'Vcl, an altitiKk: which is near the t^rt atcst 
 that the Kock) Mountains attain ni this hitituiU'. While 
 farther south in Colorado there are scones of mountains 
 i.^.ooc) or 14,000 feet hi_i,di, it must he remembered that 
 no mountains in Catiada between the International 
 l)ountlary and the railroad have )et been discovered that 
 reach I 2,000 feet. N(.'vc:rtheless, these mountains of lesser 
 altitude are far more impressive and apparently much 
 hij^dier because of their steep sides and e.xtensive fields of 
 perpetual snow. 
 
 This ^reat ran<:;^e, forminjj^ the continental water-shed 
 runs parallel to the jjjeneral trend of the Rocky Mountains 
 of Canada, or about northwest and southeast. Several 
 spur ranges branch off at ri^ht angles from the central 
 mass and run north(;ast fi\e or six miles. Between these 
 spur nuit^es are short valleys which all tMiter into the w ide 
 valley of the How. Lake Louise occupies one of these 
 lesser valleys. 
 
 The several lateral valleys are all comparatively near 
 Lake Louise and differ remarkably in the character of the 
 scenery and vegetation. One is beautiful and richly cov- 
 ered with forests ; another desolate and fearfully wild. The 
 valley of Lake Louise contains in all three lakes, of which 
 the smallest is but a mere pool, some seventy-five yards 
 across. 
 
 < 
 
 . . I; 
 
I 
 
 38 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 t I 
 
 h^r 
 
 O 
 
 Far up on the mountain side to the north of Lake 
 Louise two little lakes were discovered many years ago. 
 They are now to the visitor who spends but one day, 
 almost the chief point of interest in this region. The trail 
 thither leads into the dense forest from near the chalet 
 and proceeds forthwith to indicate its nature by rising 
 steadily and constantly. The tall coniferous trees cast a 
 deep cool shade even on a warm da)'. So closely do the 
 trees grow one to another that the climber is entirely 
 shut out from the world of mountains and surrounded by 
 a primeval forest as he follows the winding path. Among 
 the forest giants there are two principal trees, the spruce 
 and the l)alsam fir. Each is very tall and slender and at 
 a distance the appearance of the tw^o trees is closely simi- 
 lar. Tii(^ spruce is the chari'cteristic tree of the Rockies 
 and is found everywhere. It reaches a height of 75 or 
 100 feet in a single tapering bole, closely beset with small 
 short branches bent slightly downward, as though better 
 to withstand the bi;rden of snow in winter. In open 
 places the lower branches spread out and touch the 
 ground, but in forests they die and leave a free passage 
 between the trees. The balsam tree is quite similar but 
 may be discerned by its smoother bark which is raided 
 from uiidern(;ath by countless blisters each containing a. 
 drop of trans[xirent balsam. Here and there are a few 
 tall pines rivalling the spruces .uid tirs in height but 
 affording a strong contrast to tlvni in their scattered 
 branches and larger needles. 
 
 The ground is covered with underbrush tangled in a 
 
1 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 I 
 
 /^/<:^/^/// /,.//vr m/^/ Mirror Lake 
 
 P 
 
 
 Jl ^1 
 
 / 
 
 f . ■ ■"» i 
 
 ■<i 
 
 ^t; 
 
IP'- 
 
1 i 
 
 i 
 
ir^' 
 
 .'V i 
 
 » ■ 
 
 Ml ' 
 
 nan 
 
The LvalTs Larch. 
 
 39 
 
 dense luxuriance of vegetable life and partly concealing 
 th(; ancient trunks of idWv.n trees long since covered with 
 moss and now slowly decaying into a red vegetable mold. 
 
 At length, after half an hour of constant climbing, a 
 certain indefinable change takes place in the forest. The 
 air is cooler, the trees grow wider apart, and the view is 
 extended through long vistas of forest trees. Presently 
 a new species of tree, like our Eastern tamarack, makes its 
 appearance. It is the Lyall's larch, a tree that endures 
 the rigors of a subalpine climat<' better than the spruces 
 and balsam iirs, so that it soon becomes to the climber 
 among these mountains an almost certain indication of 
 proximity to the tree-line. 
 
 It is not far from the truth to say that the Lyall's 
 larch is the most characteristic tree of the Canadian 
 Rockies. It is not found in the Selkirk Range just west 
 of the main range, and while it has indeed been found as 
 far south as the International boundary, it has not been 
 discov(!red in the Peaces River valley to the north. Re- 
 stricted in latitude, it grows on the main ranee of the 
 Rockies only at a great altitude. Here on the border- 
 land between the vegetable and mineral kingdoms it 
 forms a narrow fringe at the tree-line and in autumn its 
 needles turn bright yellow and mark a conspicuous band 
 around all the cliffs and mountain slopes at about 7000 feet 
 above sea level. Its soft needles, gathered in scattered 
 fascicles, are set along the rough and tortuous branches, 
 affording a scanty shade but permitting of charming 
 glimpses of distant mountains, clouds, and sky among its 
 
 ( 
 
 
'i 
 
 40 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 ^rdy branches and litjjlu-^'rcen foliage. It seems incapable 
 of sending u[) a tall slender sten iit branches out irregu- 
 larly and presents an infinite va :ty of forms. Possibly 
 for this reason the larch cannot v..)ntest with the slender 
 spruces antl firs of the valley, where it would be crowded 
 out of light and sun among its taller rivals. 
 
 Presently the trail leads from out the forest and 
 crosses an o[)en slope where some )ears ago a great snow- 
 slide swept down and stripped the trees from the moun- 
 tain side. Here, 1200 feet above Lake Louise, the air 
 feels sensibly cooler and indicates an Alpine climate. 
 The mountains now reveal themselves in 
 far grander proportions than from below, as 
 they burst sudd(;nly on the view. Nature 
 has already made compensation for the de- 
 stroyed forest by i-lothing this slope with a 
 profusion of wild flf)wers, though much 
 different in character from those at Lake 
 Louise. Alpine plants and 
 ^ several varieties of heather, 
 
 in varying shades of red or 
 pink and even white, cover the 
 ground with their elegant coloring. 
 One form of heath resembles al- 
 most perfectly the tru(; heather of Scotland, and b)- its 
 abundance recalls the rolling hills and flowery highlands 
 of that historic land. The retreating snow-banks of June 
 and July are closely followed by the advancing column of 
 mountain flowers which must needs blossom, bear fruit, 
 
 fi 
 
A Monument of the Past. 
 
 41 
 
 I, ^ 
 
 and die in the short siunmer of two months duration. 
 One may thus often find phuits in full blossom vviuiin a 
 yard of some retreatinLj snow-drift. 
 
 On reaching,'' the farther side of the bare track of the 
 avalanche, the trail begins to lead along the face of craggy 
 cliffs like some llama path of the Andes. The mossy 
 ledges are in some places damp and glistening with 
 trickling springs, where the climber may quench his thirst 
 with the purest and coldest water. Wherever thert; is 
 the slightest possible foothold the trees ha\e established 
 themselves, sometimes on the very verge of the precipice 
 so that their si^reading branches lean out over the airy 
 abyss while their bart; roots are flattened in the joints 
 and fractures of the cliff or knit around the rocky projec- 
 tions like writhing serpents. 
 
 More than four hundred feet below is a small circular 
 pond of clear water, blue and brilliant like a sapphire crys- 
 tal. Its calm surface, rarely disturbed by mountain breezes, 
 reflects the surrounding trees and rocks sharp and distinct 
 as it nestles in peace at the very base of a great rock 
 tower — the Beehive. Carved out from flinty sandstone, 
 this tapering cone, if such a thing there be, witii horizon- 
 tal strata clearly marked resembles indeed a giant bee- 
 hive. Round its base are green forests and its suniiiiit is 
 adorned by larches, while between are the smooth preci- 
 pices of its sides too steep for any tree or clinging plant. 
 What suggestions may not this ancient pile afford ! 
 Antiquity is of man ; but these cliffs partake more of the 
 eternal — existing forever. Their nearly horizontal strata 
 
 
 ! 
 
 ! 1 
 
 ( 
 
' . JSSgf^ 
 
 ll< 
 
 42 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 \n 
 
 were formed in the Cambrian Ajj^e, which ^eolo^ists tell 
 us was fifty or sixty millions of years iv^o. i'ar back in 
 those dim a^es when the sea swarmed with only the lower 
 forms of life, the tine sand was slowly and constantly set- 
 tlinjr to the bottom of the ocean and buildinj^ up vast 
 deposits which now are represented by the strata of this 
 mountain. .Solidified and made; into flint)- rock, after the 
 lapse of ages these deposits were lifted above the ocean 
 level by the irresistible crushing force of the contracting 
 earth crust. Rain and frost and moving ice have sculp- 
 tured out from this vast block monuments of varied form 
 and aspect which we call mountains. 
 
 Just to one sitK; of tiie Beehive a graceful waterfall 
 dashes over a series of ledges and in many a leap and 
 cascade finds its way into Mirror Lake. This stream 
 flows out from Lake y\gnes, whither the trail leads b\' a 
 short steep descent through the forest. Lake Agnes is a 
 wild mountain tarn imprisoned between gloomy cliffs, bare 
 and cheerless. Destitute of trees and nearly unrelieved by 
 any vegetation whatsoever, these mountain walls present a 
 stern monotony of color. The lake, however, affords one 
 view that is more pleasant. One should walk down the 
 right shore a few hundred feet and look to the north. 
 Here the shores formed of large angular blocks of stone 
 are pleasantly contrasted with the fringe of trees in the 
 distance. 
 
 The solitary visitor to the lake is soon oppressed with 
 a terrible sensation of utter loneliness. Everything in 
 the surroundings is gloomy and silent save for the sound 
 
iMke Agnes. 
 
 In early July, /6'pj. 
 
 l\ 
 
 ■i 
 
T 
 
 ll 
 
< 
 
 f 
 
 ri 
 

 I w \ 
 
A Lake of Soliliidc. 
 
 43 
 
 of a trickliny; rivuli't which falls over sonu- rocky Icdj^cs oil 
 the riLjht of liu: lake. Tlu; faint paltcriiij; soiiiul is cclioctl 
 hack hy the opposite cliffs ami si-c ns to till the air with a 
 murimir so faint, and yet so distinct, thai it suj^^ests sonic- 
 thin^' sU[K:rnatural. The occasional shrill whistle of a 
 marmot breaks the silence in a startlini;' and sudden man- 
 ner. A visitor to this lake once cut short his stay most 
 unexpectedly and hastened hack to tin; chalet upon hear- 
 in|^ ont." of these loud whistle*; which lu* thoui^dit was tlu' 
 sij^jnal of bandits or Indians who were about to attack 
 him. 
 
 Lake Au^nes is a narrow sheet of water said it^ be un- 
 fathomable, as ind(?ed is the case with all lak(;s before they 
 are sound(!d. It is about one third of a mile in lenL,fth 
 and occupies a typical rock basin, a kind of formation that 
 has been the themi; of heated discussion among' j^^eolonrists. 
 riit; water is coKl, of a _L,n-een color, and so pellucid that 
 the rouLjh rocky bottom may b^ svx:n at t,n-e:it dttpths. 
 The lake is most beautiful in earl)- July before the snow- 
 banks around its edge have disapi^eared. V\\cn tiie double 
 picture, made by the irregular patches of snow on the bare 
 rocks and their reflected image in the water, gives iiKJSt 
 artistic effects. 
 
 From the lake shore one may ascend the Beehive in 
 about a (juarter ot an hour. The [jitch is very ste<'|j but 
 the ascent is easy and exhilarating, for the outcro[)ping 
 ledges of sandstone seem to afford a natural staircase, 
 though with irregular steps. Exc-ywhere are bushes and 
 smaller woody plants of various heaths, the tough strong 
 
 ( 
 
*' 1^' ir 
 
 I -'in 
 
 H 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 brandies of wliich, g-raspeil in the hand, serve to assist tlie 
 chniber, wliile occasional tr(,'(,'s with roots Ioo|)e(l and knot- 
 ted o\ci th(! rocks still further facilitate.' th(; ascent. 
 
 ArrActl on tin- llat suinniit, the climber is rewarded for 
 his toil. ()nc tinds himself in a lii^ht i^^rove of the charac- 
 teristir Lyall's larch, whiU' lenlcrneath the trec^s, various 
 ericaceous plants suL;i^est the Alpini; climate of the- place. 
 
 Though the climber ma)' come here unattended by 
 frientls, he never feels the loneliness as at l.ake Aj^nes. 
 There; the j^l(x)ni\- mountains antl dark cliffs seem to sur- 
 rountl one and threaten some unseen da.n^er, but here the 
 broader prospect of mounta.ins antl the brillianc\- ol the 
 lij^ht afford most excelle-nt compan\'. 1 have visited this 
 little upland park V(;ry main' times, sometimes with friends, 
 sometimes with the occasional visitors to Lake; Louise, 
 and often alone. Ihe temptation to select a soft heathery 
 
 seat under a Ime larch tret; an 
 
 d ad I 
 
 mire the scener)' is irre- 
 
 sistible. ()ne may remain here for hours in silent con- 
 templation, till at length the rumble of an avalanche from 
 the; cliffs <>'" Mount Lefroy awakens one from reverie. 
 
 Tlu; a.dtude is about y;^^o feet above sea le\-el and 
 ill i^eneral this is far above the tret^ line, aiul it is oidy 
 that this place is unusually favorable to tree j^rowth that 
 such a line litth; ijrovt; of larches exists here. Nevertlu;- 
 
 less, 
 
 th 
 
 (; sunimi 
 
 r is verv brief — onlv half as \on\s as at Lake 
 
 L 
 
 ouise, 
 
 I TOO feet below. 
 
 o 
 
 TIk; retn-atin;;- snowd)anks 
 f winter disap[)ear toward the end of luly aiul new 
 
 )ft 
 
 snow olten covers 
 
 tht 
 
 'Touiul l)\- tile mitklle o 
 
 f Sept 
 
 em- 
 
 ber. H 
 
 ow cou 
 
 Id we expect it to be otherwise at this 
 
Summit of the I^)ccliivc. 
 
 45 
 
 !|i 
 
 irreat heii^ht and in the latitude of Southern Lahrador ? 
 i)u th(; hottest days, when down in the valley of the iiow 
 the th(;rniomet(;r may reach eisj^hty dei^^rees or more, the 
 sun is here never oppressivel)' hot, but rather i^eniully 
 warm, while the air is crisp antl cool. ShouUl a storm 
 [>ass ( v(;r and dnMich the lower valleys with rain, th(- air 
 would he full of hai! or sno'v' it this altitude. Th*; view 
 is too iji'rand to (h'scribe, for whihj tlK,'n; is a more exl(;n- 
 sive prospect than at Lak(; Louise the mountains ap|)ear 
 to rise far iii_Ljher than llu;\- do at that lev(*l. file 
 valleys are deep as the mountains hitrh, and in fact this 
 altitude is the level of maximum j^^randeur. The often 
 extolled glories of high mountain scenery is mucli oxc-r- 
 stat<Hl by climbers. What they gain in extent they lose 
 in intent. The widened horizon and countless arra\' of 
 distant peaks are enjoyed at the expense of a much 
 decreaseil interest in tlie details of the scemt. In my 
 opinion one obtains in general the l)est view in the 
 Canadian Rockies at the tre-c; line or slightly below. 
 Nevertheless every ne to his own taste. 
 
 The mcjf.t thrilling (^xpericmci- to be had on the 
 summit of the Beehive is to stand at the verge of the 
 precipice on the east and north siih^s. One should 
 approach cautiously, preferably on hands and knees, ev«;n 
 if dizziness is unknown to the climb(.'r, for from the very 
 edge the cliff drops sheer more than 600 feet. .A stone 
 may be tossed from this place into tiie placid waters of 
 Mirror Lake, where after a lonij lli'ht of 720 feet, its 
 
 i ■ 
 
 I' 
 
 ( 
 
 journeys end is anno 
 
 un 
 
 ced by 
 
 a ring of ripples b'.r below. 
 
 II r 
 
46 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 Lake Louise appears like a lon^r milky-green sheet of 
 water, witii none of that purity which appears nearer at 
 hand. Tile stream from the glacier has formed a fan- 
 
 slia| 
 
 )CCl 
 
 delt; 
 
 1, and Its nuiddv current mav be seen (^xtenci- 
 
 d 
 
 ing far out into the lake, polluting its crystal w;uer anc 
 helping to till its basin with s.uul and gravel till in the 
 course of ages a flat meadow only will mark tlu; place of 
 an ancient lake. 
 
 Ther 
 
 level 
 
 ;ad( 
 
 d 
 
 re even now man] 
 tracts in tliese mountains w^hich mark the filled-up bed of 
 some old lake. These places are called " muskegs," and 
 though they an; usually safe to traverse, occasionally the 
 whole surface trembles like a bowl of jelly and quakes 
 under th(; tread of men and horses. In such places let 
 th(; traveller beware the treacherous nature of these 
 sloughs, for on many an occasion horses have; been sud- 
 denly engulfeil by breaking through the surface, below 
 which (ii'cp 'i'-.:ter or ooz)' mutl offers no foothold to the 
 struggling animal. 
 
 At the present rate of fillin"-, however, the deep basin 
 of Lake Louise will re(|uire a ngth of time to become 
 obliterated that is measured by thousands of years rather 
 than by ccuturies, — a conception that should relieve our 
 anxiet) in some measure. 
 
 I 
 
 
I .i ■■ 
 
 1 . 
 
 CHAPTER I\'. 
 
 0>x<i/iiz!fix ii Party for tlie Moiiutaiiis— Our Piiiiis Jor I lie Siniuiicr — 
 Williaiii '/''a'iii (I mi 'Join Chiiiuiin — A'a(itrt\ JIabits, and Dress oj t/ic 
 Sloncy Iihlians — An Excursion on tlie Giacicr — Tlic Surface Dciris and 
 its Origin — Snoto Line — Ascent of the Couloir — A Terrildc Accident — 
 Gating Do7C'n — //// Ex/iau sting Return for Aid — Hasty Organization of 
 a A'eseue Party — Cold and Miserable Wait on the Glacier— Unpleasant 
 Surmises — " / 'J'liink You Die" — A J'ortunate I'erndnation. 
 
 PREVIOUS to tiic summer of i S94 my rxpericnccs 
 in the Canadian Rockies had made me acquainted 
 with but httl( more of their general features 
 and scenery than lias heen already described. This 
 was sufficient, however, to prove that a most delightful 
 summer could be spent among these mountains if a party 
 of young men were organized with some defmite object in 
 view to hokl the i)art\- tosifether. Several of us accord- 
 ingly iissembled at one of our eastern colleges and dis- 
 cussed plans for the summer. Four men were persuaded 
 to <'0 on this excursion after the irlories of the reirion 
 had been dul)' set forth and the evidence corroborated so 
 far as possible by the use of photographs. We were to 
 meet at Lake Louise, where our headquarters were to be 
 at the chalet, as near the first of July as [)ossible. 
 
 Though the individual inclinations of the various 
 
 o 
 
 members of our part}' might se(Mii unlikely to harmonize 
 
 47 
 
 < 
 
 ..#. 
 
'TT 
 
 I 
 
 48 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 tOLjether, we had nevertheless au^reed on carryint^ out a 
 certain plan. One of the party was an enthusiastic 
 hunter, another ea^^er for the (glories of mountain ascents, 
 one a i^eolosj^ist, another carried away by the charms of 
 photoi^raphy, while the fifth and last was ready to join in 
 almost any undertakinir or enterprise whatsoever. 
 
 However, our common purpose joined us all together 
 to a certain detj^ree, Tliis was to explore and survey the 
 region immediately around Lake Louise;, to ascend several 
 of the highest '>caks, to get photographs of the best 
 scenery, and in general to locirn all we could about the 
 environment of the lake, 
 
 Three of us arrived at the lake one fine morning early 
 in July. The beaut\' of the scenery seemed to make a 
 deep impression on my friends, and fortunately the clouds 
 which at first concealed the mountain tops lifted soon after 
 our arrival and produced very grand effects. At that time 
 there v^ere t vo Stoney Indians at the lake, who were en- 
 gaged in cutting a trail to a lately discovered point of 
 interest. One of these was named William Twin ; his 
 surname was probably derived from the fact that he had a 
 twin brother, whose nami; was Joshua. A Stoney Indian 
 who once acted as my guide was named Enoch ; and upon 
 being as.-.ed his surname he replied, "Wildman." These 
 curious cases afford good examples of the origin of names. 
 William was a fine-looking Indian. He came nearer to a 
 realization of the ideal Indian features such as one sees on 
 coins, or in allegorical figures, than almost any savage I 
 have ever seen. 
 
 

 Stoney Imlians. 
 
 49 
 
 Tom Chiniquy was the other of the two Indians, and 
 indeed the more important, as he is the eldest son of Chief 
 Ciiiniciuy, who in turn is under Hears' Paw, the head chief 
 of all the Stoneys. An air of settled ij^ravity, stern and 
 almost borderinj:; on an appearance of gloom, betokened 
 his serious nature. I cannot but admirf; thesis Stoni-y In- 
 dians, free as they are from the vices ot civilization, while 
 still retaininsr man\- of the simph; virtues of sava<'^e life. 
 
 As we saw the Indians everj' day we soon became ac- 
 quainted with them, especialK' as William could talk (luitc 
 intelligibly in English, The very first day of our arrival 
 at the chalet the sharp eyes of the Indians, which seemed 
 to be ever roving abort in search of game, discovered a 
 herd of goats on the moimtain side. In vain did we try 
 to see them, and at length, l))- means of a pair of powerful 
 field glasses, th(.'y appeared as small white spots without 
 definite forms, whereas to the Indians they were plainly 
 visible. William was disgusted with us, antl said, " W hite 
 man no good eyes," in evident scorn. 
 
 W^ith practice, our race can excel the Indians in every 
 undertaking re([uiring skill, patience, or physical endur- 
 ance, with the; exception of two things in which they are 
 infinitely our superiors. These are their ability to discover 
 minute objects at great distances, and to read those faint 
 and indefinite signs made l)y tlu; passage of man or game 
 through the forests or on the hanl plains, where- a white 
 man would be com])leteIy baffled. A turned leaf, a biiu 
 blade of grass, a broken twig, r even the sheen on the 
 grass, leads the swarthy savage unerria^ly and rapidly 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 
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 t 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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 1 
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 ( 
 
 i 
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 < 
 
I 
 
 50 
 
 The CcUKulian Rockies. 
 
 n 
 
 aloiii^, where the more intelli_L,^cnt but less observant white 
 man can see absohitely nothing'. 
 
 Tile Indian is said to be stolid and indifferent, while 
 the hard labor which tlu; squaws ant compelled to undergo 
 is always laid up against them as an evidence of their 
 !)rutal character, i^ut on the contrary this is their method 
 of dividing labor, and a squaw whose husband is compelled 
 to work about their camps is the subject of ridicule among 
 the rest. The squaws do all the work which rationally 
 centres around the camp-fire, just as our wives preside 
 over our hearths and homes. The bucks provide the food, 
 and should privation occur they will cheerfully share their 
 last morsel \vita their wi\es and children, and, the more 
 honor to tiiem, they will do th(,' same b)- a white man. 
 The long and arduous labors of the chase, requiring the 
 severest physical exertion, exhaust ';iie strength, often while 
 exposed to cold and rain for long periods of time. The 
 bucks rightly consider their labor ended when they reach 
 their camp, or " teepee " as they call them. Here the scpiaws 
 preside and perform all the labor of cutting and cooking 
 the meat, |)reserving antl dressing the hides, and e\en 
 gathering the hrevvc>*>d. They cut the teepee poles and 
 set u[) their tertts ; and when not occu[)ied with these more 
 severe labors, they spend their lime in making moccasins, 
 weaving baskets, or fanc\- sewmg and beatl-work. 
 
 .A.fter all, the poor Indian is our brother, and not very 
 unlike his civilized conquvk' r. One clay \\ illiam told me 
 that the year before he had losi his scpiaw and four chil- 
 dren J>y the smallpox, and thai it had affect* xl him so that 
 
(' 
 
 I, I 
 
 'Jo 111 C/'iiniquy. 
 
 By courtesy oj Mr. S. B. Thompson. 
 Nai' Westminster, B. C. 
 
 i 
 
 J I 
 
^ 
 
 
 J I. 
 
 < 
 
■TT 
 
 !• ) 
 
 1 
 
 if 
 
 i 
 
 ' 31 
 
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 vl 
 
 Indian I'alhos. 5' 
 
 he could not sleep, in his own simple form of expression, 
 it was most pathetic to liear him speak of this sad (Aeiit, 
 which eviilently aff(.'cted him deeply. " Mesli'e]) no more 
 now." he would say, " all time think me. sciuaw die, fom- 
 papoose die, no sleep me. One little hoy, me- love little 
 ho\-, me —little boy die, no longer want to live, me." 
 
 W'e had the satisfaction of rendering a ^reat service 
 to William throuL,di his chikl, who was a brij^ht ami hand- 
 some little fellow. By sonn; acciilent a splint(;r of wood 
 had becoiiK; lodjjjtnl in the boy's eye. VV(! were at lei\LCth 
 attracted by tlu; peculiar actions of the little fellow, and 
 upon iiKpiiry found that he must have been enduring' 
 great pain, though without making a murmur of discon- 
 tent. We took the matter in hand at once and sent him 
 down to Banff, where, under skilful medical attendance, 
 his cvesiLrht, than which nothin*: is more dear to an Indian 
 and which was totally gone in the affected eye and par- 
 tiallv so in the other, was restored in a i/reat measure. 
 William was very grateful to us ever after, and on return- 
 ing, some ten days later, delivered himself somewhat as 
 follows : " Me say very much obliged. Thret? white men 
 pretty good, I think." 
 
 The Stoneys are a remarkable tribe of Indians. Thcnr 
 headquarters is at a little place called ]\lorle\-, about twent)- 
 miles east of the mountains on the plains. Here they an; 
 imder the religious instruction of the Rev. Mr. McDougal. 
 So far as the Indian is capable of receiving and following 
 tV,' j)recepts of Christianity, th(; Stonejs seem to have 
 •jquall' d or surpassed all other tribes. They are said to 
 
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 IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-3) 
 
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 Photographic 
 
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 23 WEST MAIN STREET 
 
 WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 
 
 (716) 872-4503 
 
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 52 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
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 p 
 
 II 5 
 
 be great Bible readers, and they certainly show some 
 familiarity with the Old Testament history, if we may 
 judge by their custom of adopting Bible names. They 
 have been taught a certain arbitrary code by which they 
 can read and write in a simple manner, while many of 
 them talk English if not fluently at least intelligibly. 
 
 Their manner of dress is a concession to their own 
 native ideas and those of civilization, for while they in- 
 variably cling to moccasins and usually affect trousers cut 
 from blankets with broad wings or flaps at tlie sides, their 
 costume is not infrequently completed by some old dis- 
 carded coat received by purchase or gift from the white 
 man. These Indians rarely wear hat or cap, but allow 
 their straight black hair to reach their shoulders and serve 
 in place of any artificial protection. On either side of 
 the face the hair is gathered into a braid so as to do away 
 with the inconvenience of constantly pushing back their 
 loose hair. 
 
 Dr. Dawson says that the Stoney Indians have very 
 few names for the mountains and rivers, and that they 
 have only inhabited this region for about forty years. 
 The greater part of the Indian names for various features 
 of the country are in reality Cree or their equivalents in 
 Stoney. The Stoneys have recently incorporated the 
 families of the Mountain Crees with their own. Accord- 
 ing to De Smet, both the Crees and the Stoneys migrated 
 southward from the Athabasca region a few years before 
 1849, ^^^'^^ it is probable that they entered this region 
 about that time. 
 
Palliscrs Opinion. 
 
 53 
 
 I cannot conclude this digression on the Stoney 
 Indians without quoting a few reii.arks from Captain 
 PalHscr's reports. Though written nearl)' forty years 
 ago these facts are no less true than at that time. 
 
 " The members of the Stone tribe are hard workers, 
 as their life is one requiring constant exertion and fore- 
 sight. They travel in the mountains or in the forests 
 along their eastern base, in parties of six or seven families. 
 The young men are always off hunting in search of moose 
 or other kinds of deer, or of the Rocky Mountain sheep. 
 The old men busy themselves cutting out the travelling 
 tracks through the woods, while the women pack and 
 drive the few horses they use for earring their small 
 st,)plies. They generally use skin tents stretched on a 
 conical framework of poles, but their wigwams are much 
 smaller than those of the Plain Indians. The women 
 dress all the skins of the animals they kill into a soft 
 leather, which, when smoked, is the material used through- 
 out the whole country for making moccasins, most of the 
 fine leather being obtained from the Stoneys. They are 
 excellent hunters, and though as a rule small and feeble 
 in body, are probably capable of more endurance than 
 any other class of Indians. They make trustworthy 
 guides, and, with a few exceptions, after some acquaint- 
 ance with this tribe, you no more expect to be deceived, 
 or told lies, as a matter of course, than you would in a 
 community of white men." 
 
 So much for the Rocky Mountain Stoneys, or as they 
 are sometimes called, the Assiniboines. 
 
 i 
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 1 4 * 
 
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 54 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 41 
 
 The completion of our party did not take place at the 
 wished-for time, and for more than two weeks Mr. 1*". and 
 Mr. H., and I were alone at the chalet. We commenced 
 our surveyinj::^ work by measuring a very accurate base line 
 on the lake shore, and began training by making various 
 moderate excursions on the mountain sides. On the third 
 day, however, after our arrival the whole plan of our party 
 camt.' near having a most sudden and unwished-for termi- 
 nation, together with results which nearly proved fatal to 
 one of the party. The accident and its attendant circum- 
 stances proved the most exciting episode in all our experi- 
 ences, and as it most clearly illustrates the chief danger 
 of climbiniT in the Canadian Rockies, I shall describe it 
 in detail. 
 
 It happened in this manner. On the 13th of July, Mr. 
 H.. Mr. F., and I started to make an exploration of the 
 glacier that is plainly visible from the chalet and which, 
 some two miles distant, flows down from the snow fields 
 and hanging glaciers of Mount Lefroy. This glacier is 
 formed from two branches, which come in from the east, 
 and uniting into one great stream, terminate about one 
 mile above the head of the lake. The extreme length 
 from the snout measured to the highest part of the gla- 
 cier is about three miles, while the average width is less 
 than one third of a mile. 
 
 Tl e object of this excursion was in great part to gain 
 a little knowledge of the use of rope and ice-ax j, which we 
 expected would be required in much of our subsequent 
 work. There was no difficulty in the first part of this 
 
 f 
 
Glacier Debris. 
 
 55 
 
 excursion, as a .sroocl trail leads round the lake and 
 some iialf-mile beyond. There we forded the icy stream 
 which comes from the glacier and pursued our way be- 
 tween the moraine and the mountain side for nearly a 
 mile on the east side of the glacier. Our next move was 
 to ascend the moraine, which was very steep and about a 
 himdred feet high at this point. On arriving at the sharp 
 crest of the moraine, we saw the great ice stream some 
 fifty feet below, and so thoroughly covered with debris 
 and boulders that the glacier was almost totally concealed. 
 The passage down the moraine was very disagreeable, as 
 the loose stones all scratched and polished by their former 
 passage under the glacier were now rolling from under 
 our feet and starting up great clouds of dust. Just below, 
 at the border of the glacier, the water from the melting 
 ice had converted the clay of the moraine into treacherous 
 pools of bluish-gray mutl. veritable sloughs of despond. 
 At length, by the use of our ice-axes, we gained the firmer 
 ice and with it the advantage of far more pleasant walk- 
 ing. We found the whole surface of the glacier literally 
 covered with sharp stones and boulders of all sizes up 
 to those which must have measured ten feet square by 
 twenty feet long. They represented all sorts of forma- 
 tions, shales, limestones, and sandstones thrown down in 
 wild disorder over the entire surface of the ice. All this 
 material had been wrested from the mountain side far up 
 the valley by frost and avalanche, and was now slowly 
 moving toward the great terminal moraii-t In one place 
 a large area of nearly half an acre was strewed with c-jant 
 
 iil 
 
 .1 ; 
 
 m 
 
 I -' 
 
 !.i ;. 
 
II 
 
 56 
 
 Tlic Canadian Rockies. 
 
 n 
 
 i 
 
 blocks of a peculiar kind of rock diffcrt-nt from all the 
 rest, which appareiitly had come thundering down the 
 mountain walls in one great rock-slide many years ago. 
 Large flat slabs of shale were seen here and there su|)- 
 ported on pillars of ice, showing how much the general 
 surface of the glacier had wasted away under the influ- 
 ence of the sun's heat, while these pillars had been pro- 
 tected by the shade of the stone. 
 
 Advancing half a mile over the field of debris, we came 
 gradually to where there were fewer stones, and at length 
 reached almost pure ice. The question always arises 
 where do all the boulders and pebbles that cover the 
 lower parts of the glaciers come from ? In the upper 
 parts of the glaciers or neve regions, where the snow 
 remains perpetual and increases from year to year, the 
 stones from the mountain sides are covered as they fall, 
 and are at length buried deep and surrounded by ice as 
 the snow becomes compressed and solidified. As the 
 glacier advances down the valley and descends to lower 
 altitudes, a level is at length reached where the snowfall 
 of winter is exactly balanced by the melting of summer. 
 This is the snow line, or rather this is the best place in 
 which to locate such a variable level. Below this line the 
 surface of the glacier melts away more than enough to 
 make up for the winter fall of snow, and, as a result, the 
 stones and debris buried in the ice gradually appear on 
 the surface. In the Canadian Rockies near this latitude 
 the snow line on northerly exposures, as judged by this 
 method, is about 7000 feet above the sea, which is also 
 just about the level called tree line. 
 
On the (ilacicr. 
 
 57 
 
 In mountainous regions, where the climatt; is very dry, 
 as in Colorado or in certain parts of the Andes, there is 
 a great bctlt of several thousand feet between tree line 
 and snow linci wlu-re there is not sufficient moisture' to 
 allow of tree growth nor sufficient snowfall to form 
 glaciers at all. In the Canadian Rockies the climatt; is 
 moist enough to make these lines approach, and in the 
 Selkirk Range and regions of extreme humidity the snow 
 line is actually lower than the tree line. 
 
 We advanced slowly over the glacier and foimd much 
 of interest on every side. The surface of tiu; ice was at 
 first comparatively smooth and channell(;il with small 
 streams of pure water which (lowed along with utmost 
 rapidity but almost without ripples, as the smooth icy 
 grooves seem adapted to every whim of the flowing water. 
 At length the ice became more uneven and our passage 
 was interrupted by crevasses, around which we had to 
 thread our way by many a turn and detour. Most of 
 them were, however, partly filled or bridged by snow and 
 we found no particular difficulty in pursuing our way. 
 About one o'clock we found ourselves at the base of 
 Mount Lefroy, a little beyond the point where the two 
 branchf unite, and we held a consultation as to the plan 
 of our farther advance. Mount Lefroy rises from the 
 glacier in precipitous cliffs on every side, and we were 
 even now under the shadow of its ijloomy and threatening 
 rock wall. There is no apparent method of scaling this 
 mountain except by a long couloir or snow slope, which 
 rises from the glacier and ascends nearly looo feet to a 
 more gentle slope above the precipice. It was our inten- 
 
 '); 
 
r 
 
 5« 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 tion to ascend this mouiitain, if possible, some time during 
 the summer but the results of our first exploration for a 
 favorable route rather inclined us to give up further 
 attempts. 
 
 The result of our consultation was the decision to 
 climb a short way up the couloir in order to see if it were 
 possible to reach the gentle slope above. If this proved 
 practicable, the ascent of the mountain was almost assured, 
 as no great difficulties presented themselves above. Ac- 
 cordingly we commenced the ascent, all roped together in 
 true Alpine fashion, and soon found the pitch so steep 
 that our ice-axes rendered us much assistance in cuttinijf 
 steps. A number of great sckrnnds or horizontal cre- 
 vasses often found on such slopes appeared to block our 
 way, but as we approached we found a passage round 
 every one. They were boat-shaped holes in the snow 
 some forty or fifty feet deep and about the same width. 
 The bottom of each appeared smooth and apparently of 
 firm snow, so that they were not in reality very dangerous 
 obstacles, as compared with the narrow and wellnigh 
 unfathomable crevasses of an ordinary glacier. 
 
 Nevertheless, when we had reached a point several 
 hundred feet above the schrunds and were on a steep slope 
 of snow, my companions advocated taking to the rock 
 ledges on the right of the snow, as they were altogether 
 inexperienced in mountain climbing and felt somewhat 
 nervous. We found the rock ledges practicable and quite 
 easy except for a great number of loose stones which 
 went rattling down as we advanced. We were in a 
 
 
A Terrible Accident. 
 
 59 
 
 jrloomy narrow j^orot; T'llccl with snow and hemmed in on 
 either side by cMffs which rose with ahnost vertical sides, 
 here and there drippinj^r with water from the snows above. 
 
 Whenever we paused for a momentary rest ami the 
 slidin^r, rattlinjr stones ceased to fall, we were oppresseii 
 by the awful silence of this cheerless place of rocks and 
 snow nearly Sooo feet above sea level. 
 
 It was while ascendinj^ these rock ledges that the acci- 
 dent occurred which came so near proving disastrous. 
 There were a series of ledges from six to ten feet high 
 alternating with narrow shelves where the slope was only 
 moderately steep. The whole place was strewed with loose 
 stones and boulders, some of which were so delicately 
 poised that the slightest touch seemed suf^ficient to send 
 them crashing down the cliff. At length a very dangerous 
 looking stone of large size could be seen on the next shelf 
 above us apparently just balanced in its precarious position, 
 for the light could be seen underneath its base. H. fol- 
 lowed me in safety around this great boulder which must 
 have weighed more than half a ton. I was on the point 
 of ascending the next ledge with the assistance of H. when 
 we both heard a dull grating sound below, and turning, 
 beheld the great boulder starting to roll over, and I*", just 
 below it and on the point of falling over the cliff. F, 
 fell about ten feet to the next shelf where he was partially 
 checked by the rope and prevented from falling farther. 
 But to our horror the boulder, which had now gained 
 considerable motion, followed af ;er, and leaping over the 
 ledge, for a short but awful moment it seemed to hang in 
 
 : s 
 
 U 
 
 
 ; ii 
 
 t ! 
 
r 
 
 V.t^ 
 
 60 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 
 If 
 
 iniil-air, and then came down on I\\vitli terrible force. It 
 seemed impossible that then; should hv. anythinj^ left of 
 our |)Oor friend. With a horrible crash and roar tin; j^nvat 
 stone continued down the {.jorge, attended ijy a thousand 
 Hying fraiLiments till the; rt)cky clifls echoed a|j;ain. 
 
 After a momentary pause, unable to move and riveted 
 to our places in horror, wo hastily scrambU.'d down to our 
 coinpanion who lay on the cliff insensible and bleeding, 
 (^ur first efforts were to staunch his wounds with snow 
 and then a hasty examination provc^d that thouijh his hip 
 appeared dislocated he had received probably no further 
 serious injury. This escape appeared almost miraculous 
 and it is probable that in the Hying cloud of stones a 
 smaller piece just happened to come under the great 
 boulder and supported it partially at one end so that the 
 full force of the blow was not felt. It was now half-past 
 two in the afternoon and we were three hours' journey from 
 the chalet with a man on our hands absolutely incapable 
 of walking or even partially supporting his weight. It 
 was evident that one of us must needs hasten back to the 
 chalet for aid, but first it was necessary to get down the 
 long snow- ilope to the glacier. 
 
 Fortunately our rope was fully sixty feet long and 
 after tying a loop under F.'s shoulders, I anchored myself 
 securely with my ice-axe in the snow, and then lowered 
 him rapidly but safely the length of the rope. H. then 
 went down to F. and held him while I descended, and 
 thus after twelve or fifteen repetitions of this proceeding 
 we all landed in safety on the glacier. Having selected a 
 
To the Rescue. 
 
 6i 
 
 place on the ice which was partial!) covcntl with a few 
 small stones, wr. took olT our coats and placed our woundetl 
 companion on this hard cold couch. 
 
 Carryinj^ nothing Imt my icc-a.xe, I started for tlu' 
 chalet at once. Tiu- first part of the journey, while thread- 
 ing^ tlu' crevasses, was slow and somewhat dauijerous without 
 tlu- rope, but by running wheni'ver practicable and pushing 
 my energies to the utiuost. 1 reacheil the chalet in oni- 
 hour and ten minutes, or less than half tlu- time rec|uircd 
 by us to come up in the morning. Unfortunately no one 
 was at the chalet e.xcept Joe the cook. I however got 
 him started immediatel)- to cut two long, stout poles and a 
 piece of canvas with which to make a litter. Thi- two 
 Indians were on the mountain side near Minor Lake 
 working on the trail and Mr. Astley, the manager of the 
 chalet, was guiding some visitors to Lake Agnes. There 
 was no other course open than to climb up after them, 
 though I was (|uite exhausted by this time. I found 
 William aftt;r twenty minutes of hanl climbing and made 
 him understand the situation at once. One must use a 
 simple manner of speech as near like their own as possible, 
 so I said to him—" William, three white nn;n go up big 
 snow mountain. Big stone came down, hurt one man. 
 Tom, Mr. Astley, you — all go up snow mountain, bring 
 white man back." William's face was a picture of horror, 
 and he asked in anxiety — " Kill him ? " I said no, but that 
 he must hurry and get the other men. Dropping his a.xe, 
 he ran off for the others in all haste, while I returned to 
 the chalet and gathered sundry provisions and stimulants. 
 
 
 I K^i 
 
 ,1 i^ 
 
p 
 
 63 
 
 'lliL- Canadian Rockies 
 
 riu: rcscuiniL,' party of four mi-n was started in about 
 thirty minutc.'s, and takinj^ the boat, rowed down ihv lake, 
 till at last the small black sptuk on the water disappeared 
 from our view as they neared the farther end. 
 
 A two-atul-a-half mih; ride on horseback brouj^ht me 
 to the railroad station, where; I sent a teioj^ram to Banff 
 for the Doctor. As th(;re would hv. no train till the ne.xt 
 morninj^f I made arranj^ements for a hand-car to brin^ 
 th<! Doctor up at once. A response soon came back that 
 he was just a' out to start on his lonj; ride of thirty-eiy;ht 
 miles to Lajj^jj^an. 
 
 Meanwhile poor F. and H. were havinjjf a miserable 
 time of it on the (glacier. The lonjr hour.-i rolleil by one 
 after another and no sign of ai-l or assistance was appar- 
 ent. The days were still very long, but at length the 
 declining sun sank behind the great ridge or mountain 
 wall exttmding northward from Mount Lefroy. The gla- 
 cier which imparts a chilly dampness even to the brilliancy 
 of a mid-day sun now rapidly became cold in the length- 
 ening shadows, and the surface waters began to freeze, 
 while the deep blue pools of water shot out little needles 
 of ice with surprising rapidity. 
 
 As they had seen me no more after I had disappeared 
 behind a swelling mound of ice, they conjured up in their 
 imaginations the possibility that I had fallen into some 
 deep crevasse or had hurt myself on the treacherous 
 moraine. At length, urged to desperate resolves, they 
 formed a plan of leaving the ice by the nearest route, 
 at whatever hazard to life and limb, rather than die of 
 
Imlian COnsolalioii. 
 
 63 
 
 cold ancl cxposnnr on tlic j^dacii-r. 'riiry liad ahundaiU 
 opportunity foi- stiidyiiii^f the (.jrand phenomena of this 
 Alpine reijion near at hand : the thimderinj^' avalanches 
 from the cliffs behind them, and tin; crackint,'. i^^roanini^ 
 ice of the i^lacier as the threat fro/en stream moved slow!)' 
 over its rocky uneven hed. 
 
 At len_L(th, to their j^^reat joy, they discerned by means 
 of a fieid-j^dass which we !iad carried with us in the morn- 
 \n'^, the boat ieavinj,^ the lake shore and slowly approach- 
 in^^ In half an hour the party reached the near ., 1 of 
 the lake and were then lost to view for nearly two hours, 
 till at length four little black dots ap|j»;ared about a mile 
 distant moving over th(; ice toward them. 
 
 The rescuing party did not reach them till seven 
 o'clock, or more than four hours after the accident oc- 
 curred. The return to the chalet was most exhaustin^r 
 to the men, especially to the Indians, whose moccasins 
 afforded poor protection against the sharp stones and ice 
 of the glacier. 
 
 Two section men came up from Laggan and met the 
 party as they were returning, and afforded timely aid Ijy 
 their fresh strength. Poor F. was carried in a canvas 
 litter hastily constructed and consequently not perfect 
 in its results, as it only served to lift him a very little 
 above the ground at the best and then where the ground 
 was very smooth. William observed liis haggard face and 
 woe-begone appearance with concern and entertained the 
 invalid at frequent intervals by such remarks as, "You 
 think you die, me think so too." The rescuing party ar- 
 
 nl 
 
 ti- 
 
 I 
 
PT 
 
 i i: 
 
 64 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 rived at the chalet shortly after midnicrht, while the Doctor 
 appeared an h^ ir la'er. Each party had been travelling 
 for the last five hours toward the chalet, and while one 
 was accomplishing- about three miles the other covered 
 more than forty. 
 
 Fortunately there were no i juries discovered that 
 would not heal in a few weeks, and through the inlUience 
 of mountain air and perfect rest, recovery took place much 
 more quickly than could be expected. 
 

 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Castle Cra^^i, — F.arly A/oniiii^t:; on the Mountain SiJe—l'ieic from the 
 Summit— Ascent of the AiguilU — An Avalanche of Rocks— A Glorious 
 Glissade— St. Piran—lts Alpine Flowers ami Butterjlies— Expedition to 
 an Unexplored \'alle\ — A Thirsty Walk through the Forest— Discovery 
 of a Mountain Torrent— A Lake in the Forest— A Mountain Amphi- 
 theatre—The Saddle- Impressive l'ic7i' of Mt. Temple— Summit of Great 
 Mountain— An Ascent in Vain— A Sudden Storm in the High Mountains 
 —Phenomenal Fall of Temperature— Grand Cloud Effects. 
 
 WHILE poor F". was recovering from his in- 
 juries, and before the two other men liad 
 arrived, H. and I carried on the work of 
 surveying the lake, and made several interesting excur- 
 sions on the adjacent mountain sides. 
 
 One fine cool morning, we went up the valley about 
 half a mile beyond the end of the lake, and commenced 
 an ascent of the sharp-crested ridge on the east side of 
 the valley. This ridge forms a connection between the 
 massive mountain on the left of the lake, known as Great 
 Mountain, and a very high summit, crowned with a fine 
 glacier, and named by some one Hazel Peak, which lies 
 about two miles due south of Lake Louise. This con- 
 necting ridge we called Castle Crags, a name readily sug- 
 gested by the i; regular forms and outlines of the; sharp 
 
 5 65 
 
 :i =■ 
 
 I' 
 
 !!]#■ 
 
 H ! 
 
 il! 
 
rr^== 
 
 -^5»- 
 
 66 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 needles and fingers, pointing heavenward, which adorned 
 its liighest crest, and seemed to represent the battle- 
 ments and embrasures of some great castle. Several 
 sharp columns of stone, with vertical sides, and narrow, 
 graceful forms, rose up from this great parapet buMt by 
 nature. Resembling feudal towers or donjons, they 
 seemed by their great altitude to pierce the blue vault 
 of heaven, and to dwarf by their proximity the snowy 
 crest of Hazel Peak, which, in reality, is several thousand 
 feet higher. 
 
 To ascend this ridge, and, if possible, gain the summit 
 of one of these needles, from which we hoped to obtain a 
 fine idea of the valley to the east, was the purpose of our 
 excursion. The ascent proved easy almost from the start. 
 On leaving the stream, which we crossed by means of 
 some great trees, long since overcome by age or storm, 
 and now serving as convenient bridges at frequent inter- 
 vals, we commenced to ascend a long, even slope of lime- 
 stone boulders, stable in position, and affording easy walk- 
 ing. The air was fresh and cool, for the morning sun 
 was just rising over the crest of Castle Crags, while the 
 rays of light seemed to skip from boulder to boulder, and, 
 gently touching the higher points, left the others in shade. 
 There were no bushes or tangled underbrush to impede 
 our way, and so we had abundant opportunity to enjoy 
 the beautiful flowers which cropped out in little patches 
 among the yellOiV, gray, and cream-colored limestones. 
 This was a mountain climb that proved thoroughly enjoy- 
 able, for all the conditions of atmosphere, of weather, and 
 
Mornino- on the Mountain Side. 
 
 67 
 
 easy ascent were in our favor. There is a charm about 
 the early morning hours among the high mountains. The 
 bracing coohiess of the air. as yet still and calm after the 
 chill and quiet of night, the gradually rising sun and in- 
 creasing light, the unusual freshness of the flowers and 
 green vegetation, in their sparkling bath of dew, and the 
 quiet calls of birds,— all seemed to herald the birth of a new 
 da\-, far richer in promise than any heretofore. The after- 
 noon, with its mellow light and declining sun, is like the 
 calm, cool days of October, with its dusty foliage and sear 
 leaves, brilliant in autumnal colors, but ever suggesting 
 the approach of bleak winter, and pointing bac^to the 
 glories of the past. The morning points forward with a 
 different meaning, and hopefully announces the activity of 
 another day, even as spring is the threshold and the 
 promise of summer time. 
 
 As we advanced, and gradually increased our altitude, 
 the plants and flowers changed in variety, character, and 
 size, till at length we left all vegetation behind, and 
 reached the bottom of a long, gentle slope of snow. The 
 sun had not, as yet, touched the snow, and it was hard 
 and granular in the frosty air. The f^rst snow on a 
 mountain climb is always pleasant to a mountaineer. To 
 him, as. indeed, to any one, the summer snow-bank has 
 no suggestion of winter, with its desolate landscapes and 
 cold blasts, but rather of some delightful experiences in 
 the mountains during vacation. These lingering relics of 
 winter have little power to chill the air, which is often 
 balmy and laden with the fragrance of flowers, in the im- 
 
 
 1 -i 
 
 li '1 
 
rm 
 
 "B' 
 
 68 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 ! i: 
 
 fr 
 
 I : 
 
 I i 
 
 mediate vicinity of large snow areas. The trickling 
 rivulet, formed from the wasting snows of the mountain 
 side, is often the only place where, for hours at a time, the 
 thirsty climbtT may find a cold and delicious draught. 
 Instead of destroying the flowers by their chilly influence, 
 these banks of snow often send down a gentle and con- 
 stant supply of water, which spreads out over grassy slopes 
 below, and nourishes a little garden of Alpine flowers, 
 where all else is dry and barren. 
 
 Arrived at the top of the long snow-slope, we found our- 
 selves already nearly 3000 feet above the valley and not 
 far below the crest of the ridge. A rough scramble now 
 ensued over loose limestone blocks, where we found the 
 sharp edges, and harsh surfaces of these stones, very hard 
 on our shoes and hands. Upon reaching the crest, wt; be- 
 held one of those fearfully grand and thrilling views which 
 this portion of the Rocky Mountains otien alTords. The 
 most conspicuous object in the whole view was the glacier, 
 which descends from the very summit of Hazel Peak, 
 at an altitude of more than 10,000 feet, and sweeps down 
 in a nearly straight channel to the north, and in the course 
 of but little more than a mile descends 4000 feet. A 
 gloomy, narrow valley hems in its lower half, and on the 
 side where we were, the precipice rose, in nearly perpen- 
 dicular sides from the ice, far heavenward to where we 
 stood. We launched a few large stones over the verge of 
 the beetling precipice, and watched them descend in a few 
 great leaps into the awful abyss, where they were broken 
 into a thousand fragments on projecting ledges, or else. 
 
 I J 
 
Ascent of the Aiuuilie. 
 
 69 
 
 strikinsT^ the glacier, continued their course till the eye 
 could no lontrer follow them. 
 
 We were standing- just at the base of one of the 
 ii/^iii7ics which, from the valley, seem like sharp points of 
 rock, but, now that we were near, proved to be about sixty 
 feet hi<^h. This needle appeared to be precipitous and in- 
 accessible on our first examination. liut we discovered a 
 narrow crevice or orully on the west side which apparently 
 offered a safe method of ascent. I was soon near the top 
 of the needle, but at thi; most difficult part, when; only 
 one small crack in the rock offered a t,a)od hand-hold, I 
 was warned not to touch one side where the cliff seemed 
 parted, and filled with loose material. Making a reconnais- 
 sance, I found the back of this same crag likewise separated 
 a little from the solid rock, and the crevice partially dis- 
 guised by loose stones and dirt, which had settled in and 
 filled the hollow. This crag was about ten feet high and 
 six or seven feet square, and though it seemed impossible 
 to disturb so great a mass, I felt inclined to take the safer 
 course and leave it entirely alone, so I scrambled up by a 
 more difficult route. 
 
 Arrived on the top of the needle, I told H., who had re- 
 mained below, to get under shelter while I should put this 
 crag to the test. He accordingly found a projecting ledge 
 of rock a little to one side, while I sat down and got a 
 good brace and started to push with my feet against the 
 top o, the crag. A slight effort proved sufficient, and 
 with a dull grating sound the great mass, which must have 
 weighed about twenty-five tons, toppled slowly over on its 
 
 i 
 
 Jl 
 
 
 i I 
 
 Mi 
 
 (j . 
 
I 
 
 W,'"'^ 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 
 base, and then fell with a fearful crash against the sides of 
 the cliff, and commenced to roll down the mountain side 
 like a veritable avalanche. Through the cloud of dust 
 and Hying stones I could faintly discern the features of my 
 friend below, apparently much interested in what was going 
 on. It was well that I had not trusted to this treacherous 
 stone, 
 
 /\fter I had pushed down most of the loose stones, H. 
 came up and joined me on the summit of the aiguille. 
 This needle had a blunt point indeed, for it proved to be 
 a Hat table about hfty feet long and ten feet wide. 
 We were 8,700 feet above sea-level, and the wind 
 was raw and chilly as it swept up from the valley and 
 over this ridge. The sun had but little power to temper 
 the air, and we soon started on our descent. In about five 
 minutes we reached tlie top of the long snow-slope, where 
 we enjoyed a glorious glissade and rapidly descended more 
 than a thousand feet. The best manner of irlissadinsjf is 
 to stand straight up and slide on the feet, having one leg 
 straight and the other slightly bent at the knee. Trailing 
 the ice-axe behind as a precaution against too great speed, 
 or to check the motion in case of a fall, the mountaineer 
 can thus, in a few minutes, rapidly coast down long slopes 
 which may have required hours of toil to ascend. Nothing 
 in the experience of climbers is more exhilarating than a 
 good glissade down a long snow-slope. The rush of air, 
 the Hying snow, and the necessity for constant attention 
 to balance — all give a sensation of pleasure, combined with 
 a spice of danger, without which latter almost all our 
 
St. l^iran. 
 
 71 
 
 sports and pastimes are apt to be tame. Do not many of 
 our best sports, such as polo, horseback ridinji^, foot-ball, 
 yachtinjj^, and canoe sailing, ^^ain some of their zest from a 
 constant possibility of danger ? 
 
 A few minutes of rapid descent down the limestone 
 slope led us to a fine, small sprinjj^, which dashed in a 
 score of small streaml(;ts over soni(; rocky ledi^es covered 
 with moss and ferns. Here we sat down in the cool 
 shade of the cliffs and ate our lunch. The air was now 
 warm and still, because we were not far above the valley, 
 and here, instead of seekint^ the warmth of the sun as 
 we had done on the cold mountain summit, a brief three- 
 quarters of an hour before, we now enjoyed the shade 
 affordetl by the rocks and forest near us. We reached 
 the ciialet in time for a second lunch, and, as in our moun- 
 tain exercise we never found any meal suixmIIuous, wc 
 were ready to present ourselves at the table at once. 
 
 On the 2Sth of July, W. arrived at the chalet, and, as 
 A. had likewise appeared a few days previously, our party 
 of live was now complete. 
 
 One of the first points which we decided to occupy in 
 our surveying work was a high peak above Lake Agnes, 
 called Saint Piran. This mountain is very easy to as- 
 cend and on several occasions we found ourselves on the 
 summit for one purpose or another. The summit is far 
 above tree line and, indeed, almost reaches the upper limit 
 of any kind of plant growth. The rounded top is crowned 
 with a great cairn, about ten feet high, which has been 
 used as a surveying point some time in the past. 
 
 '; mi 
 
 ■SI 
 
 I' 
 
 'I: 
 
 f :'l 
 
 .1 
 
 ! ■• 
 
 ■/ 
 
72 
 
 The Canatlian Rockies. 
 
 Durint,^ the niitlsuininer months this mountain summit 
 is sparinj^ly covered witii l)right llowers, all of an Alpine 
 nature, dwarfed in size and with blossoms enormously 
 out of proportion to the stems and leaves. There are 
 several species of composites which rest their heads of 
 yellow llowers almost on the i^^round, and a species of dwarf 
 j^folden-rod about thre<' incht;s hij^h, with only two or 
 three small heads on the summit of the stem ; but the 
 most conspicuous is a kind of moss pink, which is in regal- 
 ity a mountain variety of phlox. This plant j^rows in 
 spreading- mats upon the (ground, with small, rii,nd, awl- 
 shaped leaves leathered in tufts along the stem, while here 
 and there are small bright blossoms of a pink color. Mr. 
 Hetcher, who has spent some time in this region investi- 
 gating the llowers and insects, once found a plant of the 
 pink family on this mountain, which proved by its little 
 joints to be more than one hundred years old. 
 
 One day I came u[) here alone, and on reaching the 
 summit was surprised to find Mr. Bean, an entomologist, 
 busily at work collecting butterllies. Mr. Bean has lived at 
 Laggan for a number of years, and has made a most valu- 
 able collection of the insects, especially the butterllies and 
 beetles, of all this region. Remarkably enough, it is on just 
 such spots as this lofty mountain summit, 8600 feet above 
 tide, that the rarest and most beautiful butterllies assem- 
 ble in great numbers, especially on bright, sunny days. 
 Here they are invited by the gaudy Alpine llowers, which 
 have devoted all their plant energy to large blossoms and 
 brilliant colors, so as to attract the various insects to them. 
 
Ali)inc Butterflies. 
 
 / .> 
 
 I was much interestt^d in Mr. H(;an's work, as hv is the 
 first pioneer in this field and has made man\' vahiahh; (Hs- 
 coveries. He showed me one butterlly of small size and 
 ciuite dark colorin^r, almost black, which he said was a 
 rare species, first discovered in polar rej,dons !))• the Ross 
 e.xpedition, and never seen since till it was observed Hit- 
 ting- ai)out on this high peak, where arctic conditions pre- 
 vail in midsummer. It is wonderful how the various 
 species vary in color, form, and habit ; some of the but- 
 terflies are very wild and shy, never allowing a near 
 approach by the would-be collector ; others are compara- 
 tively tame ; and while some fly slowly and in a straight 
 course, other species dart along most rapidly, constantly 
 changing direction in sharp turns, and completely baffle 
 all attempts at pursuit. 
 
 From the summit of this mountain we discovered a 
 small lake in the valley to the west, and, as no one at the 
 chalet had apparently ever visited the lake, or even known 
 of its existence, we decided to make an excursion to this 
 new region. Accordingly, a few days later, three of us 
 started by the trail toward Lake Agnes, and after reach- 
 ing- a point about 600 feet above Lake Louise, we turned 
 to the right and endeavored to make a traverse around 
 the mountain till we should gain the entrance to the 
 other valley. Our plan was not very good and the results 
 were worse. For about two miles, the walkinof was alon<'- 
 horizontal ledges of hard quartzite rock carpeted with 
 grass and heaths, and occasionally made very difficult by 
 the short dwarf spruces and larches which, with their tou<di 
 
 < 
 
 J I \i 
 
74 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 clastic branches.. impL'cifd our progress very imich. Thr. 
 day was unusually warm, and w(! were Ljlad to n-ach at 
 length a small patch of snow, where we- (luenched our 
 thirst hy sprinkling the snow on large flat stones, the heat 
 of which melted enough to give us a small amount of 
 muddy water. The roughness of the mountain and the 
 nature of the cliffs now compelled us to ilescend near 
 a thousand feet, and thus lose all the heni.-lit of our first 
 ascent. We were constantly advancing westward, hoping 
 to come at length upon souk; stream that must descend 
 from the valley of the little lake. Kvery valley in these 
 mountains must have some stream or rivulet to drain 
 awa\ the water resulting fnjm iIk; melting snows of winter 
 and the rains of summer, and we were certain that, if we 
 continued far enough, we would fmally iliscover such a 
 stream. After our tU.scent we proceeded through a line 
 forest, densely luxuriant, and in some places much blocked 
 by prostrate trees and giant trunks, mossy and half de- 
 cayed. The air seemed unusually dry, and our tldrst, 
 which had b(;en only in j)art appeased by our draught at 
 the snow-bank, now returnetl in greater severity than 
 ever. 
 
 Suddenly we heard a distant sound of water, which, as 
 we approached, grew still louder, till it burst into the full, 
 loud roar of a beautiful mountain stnam. The water was 
 clear as crystal and icy cold, while nothing could exceed 
 the graceful beauty of the many leaps and falls of the 
 stream as it dashed over its rocky bed. Here we took 
 lunch in a shady nook, seatt;d on some rocky ledgc.-s at 
 
A Mountain lorrcnt. 
 
 75 
 
 the cdtjo of the water, siirroundt-cl on all sides 1)\- deep 
 cool forests. How wild this little spot was I 'ihoui^h 
 the railroad was less than two miles distant, probably no 
 white man had ever seen this pleasant retreat where we 
 were restinj;. 
 Had our ex- 
 cursion end- 
 ed here, we 
 should have 
 been repaid 
 for all the toil, 
 h e at, and 
 thirst we had 
 endured, by 
 this sintjle ex- 
 perience. 
 
 Nor was 
 our i)leasure 
 over, for the 
 
 stream, we knew, would prove a certain s^uide to the little 
 lake, and, with the anticipation of soon reachini;; some 
 enchantint^ bit of scenery when we should arrive at this 
 sheet of water, we pursued our way alonj^- the series of 
 falls and cascades by which our new-founil stream leapt 
 merrily down the mountain slope. .Such is the charm of 
 mountain excursions in these unexplored and little known 
 wilds, for here, nature is ever n.-ady to please and surprise 
 the explorer by some little lake or waterfall or a rare bit 
 of mountain scenery. 
 
 A COOL RETREAT IN THE FOREST. 
 
 I.- 
 
 ■ 1 
 
 ( 
 
TV 
 
 t - 
 
 76 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 riioujjfh we had stopped for kmchcon at a phicc where 
 the (lashiiiL; water made several cascades and falls of 
 ex(|iiisite heaiity, w'v foiiinl a constant succession of sinii- 
 l.ir spots, where I was ofte-n tempted to delay loniL,^ en()UL,di 
 to take photoiL^raphs. As the stream thus descended 
 rapidly, we fountl steep rock led^jt's, cut in Ljiant steps and 
 overj^^rown with thick moss till they were almost con- 
 cealed from view, on either side of the mad torrent. These 
 afforded us an lasy method of ascent. The rocky forma- 
 tion of the stream bed revealed many different kinds of 
 stone, con5j[lomerates, shal(;s, and ([uartzites, in clearlj- 
 marked strata all j^fentl)' dippinj^^ toward tlu; south. 
 
 .\t lens^th the woods openeil up on either side, while, 
 simultaneously, the slope decreaseil in pitch, and the stream 
 ran over a l)ed of loose, rounded stones and houldcTs in 
 the: bottom of a shallow ravine. In a moment more we 
 reached the lake, much mori- beautiful than our first view 
 from St. IMran had led us to expect, but, also, much smaller 
 in area. It was a mere pool, clear and deep, but intensely, 
 blue in color anti partially surrounded by a thin forest. 
 Passing round the shores and up the valley, we found our- 
 selves in some beautiful meadows, or rather moors, wherein 
 streams of snow-w^ater wandered in quiet, sinuous courses 
 and gathered at length into the stream that fi.eds the lake. 
 We came on a great numi)er of ptarmigan — the high 
 mountain species of grouse characteristic of this region, — 
 which, with their young broods hardl\' able as )et to fl\-, 
 were the most abundant signs of life that we fovmd in this 
 valley. 
 
The Sackllc. 
 
 71 
 
 A vast aniphithcairc or cinjiu-, with lofty, hare walls 
 near!)- free; of snow, formed the t(!nniiiatioii of the valley. 
 We wcrt! not com[)clleil, however, to return over the savie 
 route as we hail come, for we found an easy pass with a 
 \ox\^ i^entle slo[)e of snow on our left. This h.-d us over 
 th(; divide; and, by a loii^' steep ilescent, hrouj^ht u;' to 
 Lake A^nes, when; \\v. took atlvantai,re of the trail down 
 the mountain side to th(; chalet. 
 
 Our attention was next turned toward the exploration 
 of the mountains and valleys tt) the east of Lake Louise, 
 which seemed to offer yjreater possibilities of j^rand scenery 
 than those on the opposit<i side. Accordiuijly. we made 
 several visits to a hijijh upland park or alp, which was in 
 reality a sort of depression between (in^at Mountain and 
 a lesser peak to the east. This depression and the two 
 mountains, one vastly hit^her than the other, n^semble in 
 outline, a saddle with pommel and crup|)er and sujj[j.,^esled 
 a name for the place which seems eminently approjjriate. 
 A trail now leads to the Saddle, and the place has proven 
 so popular amony^ tourists that it is frequently in use. 
 
 The Saddle is a typical alp, or elevated mountain 
 meadow, where lonji^. rich jj^rass waves in the summer 
 breezes, beautified by mountain (lowers, anemones, sky- 
 blue forget-me-nots, and scarlet castilleias. Scattered 
 larch trees make a very park of this place, while the 
 great swelling slopes rise in graceful curves toward the 
 mountain peaks on t;ithtT side. 
 
 But this is only the foreground to one of the most 
 impressive views in the Rocky Mountains. To the east- 
 
 !,* I 
 
 I ill 
 
fU^W 
 
 78 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 ward about three miles, on the farther side of a deep val- 
 ley, stands the ji^reat mass of Mount TtMiiple, the hijj^htst 
 peak near the line of travel in the Canadian Rockii-s. 
 This mountain stands alone, separated from the surround- 
 ing peaks of the continental watershed to which it does 
 not belong. Its summit is 1 1,658 feet above the sea-level, 
 while the valleys on either side are but little more than 
 6000 feet in altitude. As a result, the mountain rises 
 over a mile above the surrounding valleys, a height which 
 approaches the maximum reached in the Canadian 
 Rockies. AH sides of this mountain, except the south, 
 are so precipitous that they offer not the slightest possible 
 hope to the mountain climber, be he ever so skilful. The 
 summit is crowned by a snow field or glacier of small size 
 but of remarkable purity, since there are no higher cliffs to 
 send down stones and debris to the glacier and destroy its 
 beauty. On the west face, the glacier overhangs a preci- 
 pice, and, by constantly crowding forward and breaking off, 
 has formed a nearly vertical face of ice, which is in one 
 place three hundred and twenty-five feet thick. I have 
 seen passengers on ihe trains who were surprised to learn 
 that the ice in this very place is anything more than a 
 yard in depth, and who regarded with misplaced pity and 
 contempt those who have any larger ideas on the subject. 
 Avalanches from this hanging wall of ice are rather 
 rare, as the length of the wall is not great and the glacier 
 probably moves very slowly. I have never had the good 
 fortune to witness one, though the thunders of these ice 
 falls are often heard by the railroad men who live at Lag- 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 
 • 
 
 ! 5 
 
 m^^ 
 
1 • I 
 
 '\^ 
 
 Moiuif Temple from tJie Saddle. 
 
 I 4 
 
 ( 
 
 /5 
 
 % 
 
"T^ 
 
 M 
 
I 
 
 ( 
 
Mt. Temple. 
 
 79 
 
 gan, just six miles distant. They must indeed be magnifi- 
 cent spectacles, as the ice must needs fall more than 4000 
 feet to reach the base of the cliff. The compactness of 
 this single mountain may be well shown, by saying that a 
 line eight miles long would be amply sufficient to encircle 
 its base, notwithstanding the fact that its summit reaches 
 so great an altitude. 
 
 The strata are clearly marked and nearly horizontal, 
 though with a slight upward dip on all sides, and especially 
 toward the Bow valley, so that the general internal struc- 
 ture of the mountain is somewhat bowl-shaped, a forma- 
 tion very common in mountain architecture. 
 
 The surroundings of this great mountain are equally 
 grand. Far below in the deep valley, the forest-trees 
 appear like blades of grass, and in the midst of them a 
 bright, foamy band of water winds in crooked course like 
 a narrow thread of silver, — in reality, a broad, deep stream. 
 A small lake, nestling among the dark forests at the very 
 base of Mount Temple, is the most beautiful feature in 
 the whole view. The distance renders its water a liark 
 ultra-marine color, and sometimes, when the light is just 't 
 the proper angle, the ripples sparkle on the dark surface 
 like thousands of little diamonds. On the right, an awful 
 precipice of a near mountain looms up in gloomy gran- 
 deur, like the cliffs and bottomless abysses of the infernal 
 regions pictured by Dore. This we called Mount Sheol, 
 
 One may ascend from the Saddle to the summit of 
 Great iMountain in an hour. Mr. A. and I ascended this 
 mountain in 1893, before there was any trail to assist us. 
 
 ; :l 
 
 li 
 
 li 
 
 5 I 
 
 
> 
 
 8o 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 ■r 
 
 and we had a very hard time in forcinj^^ our way throuj^h 
 the tough underbrush, while below tree line. 
 
 In the course of a great many ascents of this peak I 
 have had several interesting adventures. The view from 
 the summit is so line that I have made many attempts to 
 obtain good photographs from this point. One day, after 
 a period of nearly a week of smoky weather, the wind sud- 
 denly shifted, and, at about ten o'clock in the morning, the 
 atmosphere became so perfectl)- clear that the smallest 
 details of the distant mountains were distinct and sharp, 
 as though seen through a crystal medium. This was my 
 chance, and I proceeded at once to take advantage of it. 
 I had a large 8x10 camera and three plate-holders, which 
 all went into a leather case especially made for the pur- 
 pose, and which was fitted out with straps, so that it rested 
 between my shoulders and left both hands free for climb- 
 ing. It weighed altogether twenty-four pounds. With 
 lunch in my pocket, I set out from the chalet with all 
 speed, so as to arrive on the summit before the wind 
 should change and bring back the smoke. 
 
 I climbed as I had never climbed before, and though 
 the day was hot I reached the Saddle in an hour, and, 
 without a moment's pause, turned toward Great Moun- 
 tain and commenced the long ascent of its rocky slope. 
 In fifty-five minutes more I reached the summit and had 
 ascended 3275 feet above Lake Louise. The air was 
 still clear and offered every promise of successful photo- 
 graphs, even as I was unstrapping my camera and prepar- 
 ing to set it up for work. Suddenly, the wind shifted 
 
 
 I 
 
An Ascent in \'ain. 
 
 8 1 
 
 once more to the south and brou^^ht hack great banks of 
 smoke, which came rollinjr over the snowy crest of Mount 
 Lefroy Hke fog from the sea. In fiv(; minutes all was 
 lost. Mount Temple appeared like a great, shadowy 
 ghost, in the bluish haze, and the sun shone with a pale 
 coppery light. Such are the trials and tribulations of the 
 climber in the Canadian Rockies. 
 
 One day at the end of August, H. and I ascended this 
 mountain with our surveying instruments. The barom- 
 eter had been steadily falling for several days, and already 
 there were cumulus clouds driving up from the southwest 
 in long furrows of lighter and darker vapors, whicii ob- 
 scured the entire sky. A few drops of rain on the sum- 
 mit compelled me to work rapidly, but, as yet, there was 
 no warning of what was in store. 
 
 After all the principal points were located we packed 
 up our instruments and commenced a rapid descent to 
 the Saddle. The slope is of scree and loose material, 
 which permits a rapid descent at a full run, so that one 
 may gain the Saddle in about fifteen minutes. Arriving 
 there I paused to get a drink at a small stream under 
 some great boulders, fed by a wasting snow-bank. H. 
 had gone off toward the other side of the pass to get his 
 rifle, which he had left on the way up. 
 
 Suddenly I heard a rushing sound, and, looking up, 
 saw a cloud of dust on the mountain side and the trees 
 swaying violently in a strong wind. A mass of curlincr 
 vapor formed rapidly against the cliffs of Great Moun- 
 tain, and a dull moaning sound, as of violent wind, seemed 
 
 6 
 
 < 
 
 h 
 
82 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 1 
 
 i4l 
 
 to fill the air. The sky rapidly darkened and black clouds 
 formed overhead, while below them the thin wisps of scud 
 rushed alontj and seemed white and pale by contrast. 
 
 I was no sooner up on my feet than the approaching 
 blast was upon me, and with such unexpected force did 
 it come that I was laid low at the first impulse. My hat 
 went sailing off into space and was never seen more. 
 The first shock over, I gained my feet again and started 
 to find H. The air changed in temperature with phe- 
 nomenal rapidity, and from being warm and muggy, in 
 the space of about five minutes it grew exceedingly cold, 
 and threatened snow and hail. 
 
 Though everything betokened an immediate storm 
 and a probable drenching for us, I had time to notice a 
 magnificent sight on Mount Temple. As yet there were 
 no clouds on the summit, but, as 1 looked, my attention 
 was called to a little fieck of vapor resting against the 
 precipitous side of the mountain, half-way between sum- 
 mit and base. So suddenly had it appeared that I could 
 not tell whether it had grown before my eyes or was there 
 before. From this small spot the vapors grew and ex- 
 tended rapidly in both directions, U a long, flat cloud 
 stretched out more than a mile, when 1 last saw it. The 
 vapors seemed to form out of the very air where a 
 moment before all had been perfectly clear. 
 
 Realizing that the sooner we started the better chance 
 we should have of escape, we flew rather than ran down 
 the trail, and were only overtaken by the storm as we 
 approached the lake. The temperature had dropped so 
 
 
 , * 
 
A Siuklcn Storm. 
 
 83 
 
 rapidly that a cold rain and damp snow were fallinir when 
 we reached the lake. The boat h.i'l drifted from its 
 mooriny;s, and was cauijht on a sunken Iol; some distance 
 from the shore. I waded out on a sunken loj;', where I 
 expected at any moment to slip from the slimy surface 
 and take an involuntary bath in tlu; lake. The boat was 
 regained by the time H. had arrived a few minutes later 
 and we reached the chalet thoroui^hly drenched. 
 
 Such sudden storms in the Canadian Rockies are rather 
 rare, and are almost always indicate-d in advance by a 
 falling barometer and lowering sky. 1 have never at any 
 other time observed such a sudden fall in temperature, 
 nor seen the clouds form instantaneously far down on the 
 mountain side as they had done in this storm. The sud- 
 den rush of wind, the curling vapors, and Hying scud 
 afforded a magnificent spectacle on the Saddle, and one 
 that was well worth the drenching we suffered in penalty. 
 
 ' I 
 
 \ ^\ 
 
.ili 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Paradise Valley — The Miirc Glacier— Air Castla — Climhir.i:^ to the 
 Col — Dark Jce Caverns— Mountain Sickness — Granticur of the A'och- 
 Precipices on Mt. l.ejroy— Summit of the Ccl at Last — .•/ Glorious I'ision 
 oj a New ami Peauiiful I'alley — // Temple of Nature — Sudden Chaui^e 
 oj ]\'eathcr-~ Temptation to JLxplore the A'eic I'alley — A J'recipitate 
 Dt scent — Sudden i'ransilion front .Ire tie to Temperate Conditions — De- 
 li^htful Surroundini^s — Weary Tollowers—Orertaken hy Nij^ht — A 
 Bivouac in t/ie /-'or est — Tire in the Forest — Indian Sarcasm. 
 
 f-np] 
 
 'HE valley to the cast of Lake Louise and parallel 
 to it, we named Paradise Valley, on account of 
 the elegant park-like effect of the whole place 
 and the beauty of tiie vegetation. Our first (entrance 
 into this region and the discovery of the valley were 
 partially accidental. In fact, we were making an ex- 
 pedition for the purpose of finding a practicable route 
 up Hazel Peak, on the day when we were diverted from 
 our original plan, and tempted to explore this hitherto 
 unseen part of the mountains. 
 
 It came about somewhat in this manner. On the 30th 
 of July, all but E., who was still lame '•"om his accident, 
 left the chalet carrying rope and ice-r\js, with the inten- 
 tion of making explorations on the southern slopes of 
 
 Hazel Peak. Our party, number! g four, left the chalet 
 
 84 
 
 '■ 
 
The Mitre (ilacicr. 
 
 «5 
 
 at a little after eij^ht o'clock, with the intention of retiirninsj^ 
 no later than five in th(! afternoon. Our equipment, be- 
 side our Alpine implements, consisted of a camera, a pris- 
 matic compass, and that which proved no less n(!cessary, 
 our lunches and a whiskey flask. 
 
 Taking the boat, we rowed to the other end of the lake, 
 and then followed the same route as our party of three 
 had taken on the disastrous expedition of July 13th, till 
 we came to the junction of the two glacier streams. Here 
 we turned toward the east, and followed the moraine of 
 the wide glacier between Mount Lefroy and H:\7a-\ Peak. 
 
 The whole valley between was floored by a smooth, 
 nearly level glacier, about a half mile wide and perhaps 
 two miles long. Presently we were compelled to get on 
 the ice as the moraine disappeared ; so we put on the 
 rope, and advanced with more caution. It was not long, 
 however, before W., who was next to last in our line, 
 broke through the bridge of a crevasse, despite our care, 
 and sank to his shoulders. This member of our party 
 was not versed in the art of snow-craft, and to him, every 
 occurrence common to mountain experiences, and Alpine 
 methods of procedure, were alike novel and terrible. In 
 consequence, this accident fell more severely on him, but 
 fortunately, he was extricated almost immediately by the 
 use of the rope. 
 
 At the head of our valley was a remarkable, symmetrical 
 mountain, resembling in general outline a bishop's mitre. 
 From the ghicier and snow-fields where we were walking, 
 there rose on either side of the Mitre, steep snow-slopes, 
 
 it 
 
 .! ' 
 
 fi' 
 
 < 
 
 ■I 
 
86 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 which t«!rminat('il in lofty co/s about 8500 U'A'X above 
 sea-level. That on tlu; nor'-h side of th(; Mitre was cx- 
 ceedinjjfly steep, and was rendered inacc(;ssil)le by reason of 
 a great crevasse, exttMuling from the prt.-cipices on either 
 side, cleai across the snow-slope. This crevasse must 
 have been nearly twenty-five yards in width and of ^jreat 
 dejjth. At one side ther(! still remained a thin bridjj^e of 
 snow, suspended, as it were, in mid-air over the awful 
 chasm, as though to tempt climbers on to their instant 
 destruction, or j)erhaps to a lingering death from cold 
 and hung(;r. 
 
 The pass on our left appeared the more propitious and 
 seenK.'d to offer a possible route to the summit of the 
 diviile. We were anxious to get a view into the valley 
 beyond, even though it were but for a few moments. The 
 unknown regions on the other side of the pass had long 
 been for me a favorite pleasure-ground of the imagination. 
 Some fate had hitherto denied us any idea of the place 
 beyond the vaguest suggestions. Several ascents, or par- 
 tial ascents, of mountains on all sides of this unknown 
 valley, had revealed the outlines of the surrounding moun- 
 tains, but some intervening cliff or mountain range had 
 always, witli persistent and exasperating constancy, shut 
 off all but the most unsatisfactory glimpses. Starting 
 from these sul)stantial foumlations of reality, my imagina- 
 tion had built up a wide circular valley, surrounded on all 
 sides by curious mountains of indefinite and ever chang- 
 ing outline and position. The picture always appeared 
 in a gloomy, weird light, as though under a cloudy sky, 
 
\ 
 
 I 
 
 ' 
 
 Air C.istlcs. S; 
 
 or while l\\v. sun was near totally cclipsiHl. Hy sohk^ 
 curious analojj^y, tliis faint illuiuination was similar to that 
 which wc always associate with tho (irst creation of land 
 and water ; or far back in the ireolo^ic a^t's. wIumi strange 
 and hideous re|)tiles, — some llyii^Lj in the murky air, some 
 creeping amiil the swami)y j^^rowths of cjcads, calamites, 
 and t,ri(,fantic tree ferns, excite a strange thrill of pleasure 
 and awe combined, as though the soul were dinil)' per- 
 ceiving- some n(;w nn'elation of the universe, though but 
 vaguely. In this weird, gloomy valley I wandered careless, 
 in my imagination, many days and at many times, among 
 forests infested by strange, wild animals, harmless like 
 those of Eden, and by the shores of ever new, (!ver chang- 
 ing lakes and rivers. 
 
 So strong had this picture become that I felt the most 
 Intense anxiety to succeed in reaching the toj) of our pass, 
 and gain at length a view of the reality, even at the risk 
 of shattering these pleasant air castles, and annihilating, in 
 a single instant, one of my best mental pleasure-grounds. 
 
 There were many dangers to be risked, however, and 
 many obstacles to be overcome before this advantage 
 might be gained. The steep slope was rendered formi- 
 dable by reason of many great schrimds, or horizontal 
 crevasses, caused by the ice of the glacier below, moving 
 downward. In the intense cold of winter the moving ice 
 becomes rigid and nearly stagnant, while the drifting 
 snows accumulate, so as partly to tdl these rents in the ice 
 and bridge them over by cornices built out from one side 
 or the other. When the increasine warmth of summer 
 
 k. 
 
 \\l 
 
 < 
 
 M 
 
' i 
 
 88 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 \ 
 
 causes the ice to become plastic and to niovj; mon? rapidly, 
 these rents grow wider and the sno\v-l)ridt^(.'s melt away 
 and eventually fall into the crevasses so as to leave impas- 
 sable chasms, dang^erous to approach. Fortunately, it was 
 not so late in the season that all the bridges were broken 
 down, else we should have been completely defeated, for, 
 on either side, the glacier was hemmed in by dangerous 
 rock precipices. The south side of the glacier, moreover, 
 was subject to frequent rock falls from the disintegrating 
 cliffs of the Mitre. As we advanced over the extensive 
 nt've, the slope increased gradually but constantly, and 
 soon became so steep that steps liad to be cut, and great 
 care was necessary not to slip. We v.roosed some of the 
 schrunds by bridges of snow, where it was necessary to 
 proceed with great caution, and, by sliding the feet along, 
 apply the weight gently, lest the bridge should break 
 through. We passed round others by walking along the 
 lower edge or lip of the crevasse, which gave us a splendid 
 but almost terrnying view of the gloomy caverns, extend- 
 ing down through the snow and ice to unknown depths. 
 The dark-blue roofs of these crevasses were hung with 
 dripping icicles, while from far below could be heard the 
 sound of rushing, sub-glacial streams. Three hours of 
 this slow, toilsome work were necessary to gain moo feet 
 in altitude. We were now more than 8000 feet above the 
 sea, and the atmosphere was raw and cold. Large damp 
 flakes of snow and granular hail fell occasionally from a 
 cloudy sky, silently and swiftly, through a quiet atmos- 
 phere. The whole horizon was bounded by high moun- 
 
 ts 
 
 I 
 
^m 
 
 ; t 
 
 Desolate Surroundings. 
 
 89 
 
 tains, covered with jrlaciers and patches of snow, altooethc r 
 barren and destitute of vegetation. Not a siny-h; tn-e or 
 shrub, nor even a grassy slope at the far end of tin,- great 
 amphitheatr(^ of mountain walls by which we were h(,'niiiied 
 in, relieved the stern, cold monotony of the scene. .So far 
 as we might judge by our surroundings, we might have 
 been exploring the lonely, desolate mountains of .Spitz- 
 bergen, or some distant polar land, where frf)st and winter 
 rule perpetual. Our progress up the slope of the gla- 
 cier was very slow, as each step had to b(- cut out with 
 the ice-axe. The pitch was so steep that a misstep might 
 have resulted in our all sliding down and making further 
 exploration of the scln-iiniis below. The whole party 
 was, in consequence, more or less affected by these cheer- 
 less circumstances, and became much J"press(xl in spirit. 
 As, however, die condition of the body is in great part 
 responsible for all mental and moral ailments, so it was 
 in our case. Had we been walking rapidly, so that the 
 circulation of the blood had becMi vigorous and strong- 
 both mind and body would have been in good condition, 
 and the cold air, the snow, and bleak mountains would 
 have been powerless to discourage. It is always at such 
 times that mountain climbers begin to ask themselves 
 whether the results are worth the efforts to attain them. 
 Any one who has climbed at all, as we l(;arn by reading 
 the experiences of moimtaineers, at many times has said 
 to himself: " If I get home safel) this time I shall never 
 again venture from the comforts of civilization." The 
 ancients, when in the thick of battle, or at the point of 
 
 idi 
 
 li: 
 
 < 
 
 'ii; 
 
wmwm 
 
 go 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 i 
 
 shipwreck, were accustomed to vow temples to the i^ods 
 should they be kind enough to save them, but they usu- 
 ally forjTot their oaths when safely home. Mountaineers 
 in like manner forget their resolves, under the genial 
 influence of rest and food, when they reach camp. 
 
 After many disappointments, we at last saw the true 
 summit of our pass or co/ not far distant, and only a few 
 hundred feet above us. A more gentle slope of snow, 
 free of crevasses, led to it from our position. 
 
 Now that we were confident of success, we took this 
 opportunity to rest by a ledge of rocks which appeared 
 above che surrounding snow field. Here we -egained 
 confidence along with a momentar) rest. 
 
 Nothing could surpass the awful grandeur of Mount 
 Lefroy opposite us. Its great cliffs were of solid rock, 
 perpendicular and sheer for about 2500 feet, and then 
 sloping back, at an angle of near fifty degrees, to heights 
 which were shut off from our view by the trreat han<dni>- 
 glacier. We could just catch a glimpse of its dark pre- 
 cipices, where the mountain wall continued into the 
 unknown valley eastward, through a gorge or rent in 
 the cliffs south of the Mitre. A magnificent avalanche 
 fell from Mount Lefroy as we were resting from our 
 P' *ere exertion, and held our admiring attention for sev- 
 eral moments. Another descended from the Mitre and 
 consisted wholly of rocks, which made i: sharp cannonade 
 as they struck the glacier below, and showed us the danger 
 to which we should have been exposed had we ascended 
 on the farther side of the slope. 
 
Discovery of a Beautiful Valley. 
 
 91 
 
 Havinjr roped up once more, we proceeded rapidly 
 toward the summit of the col, beini^ urged on by a strong 
 desire to see what wonders the view eastward might have 
 in store. This is tiie most pleasurably exciting experi- 
 ence in mountaineering — the approach to the summit of 
 a pass. The conquest of a new mountain is likewise 
 very interesting, but usually the scene unfolds gradually 
 during the last few minutes of an ascent. On reaching 
 the summit of a pass, however, a curtain is removed, as 
 it were, at once, and a new region is unfolded whereby 
 the extent of the view is doubled as by magic. 
 
 We were, moreover, anxious to learn whether a de- 
 scent into this valley would be possible, after we should 
 arrive on the col. We were alternately tormented by the 
 fear of finding impassable precipices of rock, or glaciers 
 rent by deep crevasses, and cheered on by the hope of an 
 easy slope of snow or scree, whereby a safe descent would 
 be offered,, 
 
 Proceeding cautiously, as we approached the very sum- 
 mit, to avoid the danger of an overhanging cornice of snow, 
 we had no sooner arrived on the highest part than we be- 
 he'i :! valley of surpassing beauty, wide and beautiful, with 
 ;. !C'* .i.'aig open meadows and rich forests. Here and 
 I'le .; »"(' to be seen streams and brooks spread out be- 
 fore OLT -aze, clearly as though on a map, and traceable 
 to their sources, some from glaciers, o,'hers from 'springs 
 or melting snow-drifts. In the open meadows, oividently 
 luxuriantly clothed with grass and other .small plants, 
 though from our great height it w.is impossible to tell, the 
 
 IN 
 
 i'H 
 
 It 
 
 % 
 
 t 
 
 lii'l 
 
 < 
 
mms. 
 
 92 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 streams meandered about in sinuous channels, in some 
 places formino;- a perfect network of watercourses. In 
 other parts, tlie streams were temporarily concealed by 
 heavy forests of dark coniferous trees, or more extensively, 
 by liqht s^roves of larch. 
 
 This beautiful valley, resembling a park by reason of its 
 varied and pleasing landscape, was closely invested on the 
 south b\- a half circle of rugged, high mountains rising pre- 
 cipitously from a large glacier at their united bases. This 
 wall of mountains, contir, ■v'- ilniost uninterruptedly 
 around, hemmed in the fartht ; of the valley and ter- 
 
 minated, so far as we could see, m a mountain with twin 
 summits of nearly equal height, about one mile apart. 
 'I he limestone strata of this mountain were nearly per- 
 fectly horizontal, and had been sculptured by rain and 
 frost into an endless variety of minarets, spires, and pinna- 
 cles. These, crowning the summits of ridges and slopes 
 with ever changing angles, as though they represented 
 alternating walls and roofs of some great cathedral, all 
 contributed to give this mountain, with its elegant contours 
 and outlines, the most artistically perfect assemblage of 
 forms that nature can offer throughout the range of moun- 
 tain architecture. 
 
 On the north side of this mountain, as though, here, 
 nature had striven to outdo herself, there rose from the 
 middle slopes a number of graceful spires or pinnacles, 
 perhaps 200 or 300 feet in height, slender and tapering, 
 which, having escaped the irresistible force of moving 
 glaciers and destructive earthquakes, through the duration 
 
I 'J 
 
 I ! 1 '•' , 
 
 Discovery of Paradise Valley. 
 
 < 
 
 II 
 
1 1 
 
 u 
 
I\\ 
 
 < 
 
;{ 
 
A Temple of Nature. 
 
 93 
 
 of thousands of years, while the elements contiini(;cl th(,'ir 
 slow but constant work of disinteirration and tlissolution, 
 now presented these strantj^e monuments of an a{,'-t!less 
 past. Compared with these needles, the obelisks and 
 pyramids of Ei,^ypt, the palaces of Yucatan, or the 
 temples of India are younj;-, even in their anticpiity. 
 When those ancient peoples w(;re buildinj^s nature had 
 nearly comi)leted her work her*;. 
 
 Beyond the nearer ranj^e of mountains could be 
 seen, throutjh two depressions, a more distant rans^^e, 
 remarkably steep and rugjjfed, while one particularly 
 hiijh peak was adorned with extensive snow-fields and 
 larire trlaciers. 
 
 Almost simultaneously with our arrival on the summit 
 of the pass, a great change took place in the weather. 
 The wind veered about, and the clouds, wliich hitherto 
 had formed a monotonous gray covering, now began to 
 separate rapidly and dissolve away, allowing the blue sky 
 to appear in many places. Long, light shafts of sunlight 
 forced a passage through these rents, and, as the clouds 
 moved along, trailed bright areas of illumination over the 
 valley below, developing rich coloring and pleasing con- 
 trasts of light and shade over a landscape ideally perfect. 
 
 This beautiful scene, which has taken some time to de- 
 scribe, even superficially, burst on our view so suddenly, 
 that for a moment the air was rent with our exclamations 
 and shouts, while those who had lately been most depressed 
 in spirit were now most vehement in their expressions of 
 pleasure. We spent a half-hour on the pass and divided 
 
 
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 11 
 
 I ' i 
 
 lir.j 
 
 ( 
 
 :il 
 
 /!• 
 
94 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 m 
 
 up our work, so that while one took photoj^rraphs of the 
 scenery, luiotiier noted ilown tlie angles of prominc-nt 
 points for surveyini^f purposes, while the rest constructed 
 a high cairn of stones, to commemorate our ascent of the 
 pass. 
 
 Whatever may have been the mental processes by which 
 the result was achieved, we found all unanimous in a de- 
 cision to go down into the new valley and explore it, what- 
 ever might result. The cold, desolate valley on which we 
 now turned our backs, but which was the route home- 
 wards, was less attractive than this unknown region of so 
 many pleasant features, where even the weather seemed 
 changed as we approached it. 
 
 It was now already two-thirty r. m. We were 8400 
 feet above sea-level and at an unknown distance from 
 Lake Louise, should we attempt the new route. An- 
 other great mountain range might have to be passed 
 before we could arrive at the chalet, for aught we knew. 
 There were, however, fully six hours left of daylight, 
 and we hoped to reach the chalet before nightfall. 
 
 A long snow-slope descended from where we were 
 standing, far into the valley. This we prepared to descend 
 by glissading, all roped together, on account of W., who 
 was this day enjoying his first experience in mountain 
 climbing. An unkind fate had selected him, earlier in the 
 day, to break through the bridge of the crevasse and now 
 doomed him to still further trouble, for we had no sooner 
 got well under way in our descent, before his feet flew out 
 from under him, and he started to slide at such a remark- 
 
 LlK 
 
* 3W 
 
 A Prcci|)it;itc Descent. 
 
 95 
 
 abl(! rate that the man Ixthinil was jerked violentl)- by th«i 
 r()[)e, ami, falling- headloiitr, lost his ice-axe at the satm; 
 time. With consternation ilepictcnl in every feature, our 
 two friends came rolling- and slidin_i; down, with ever in- 
 creasinj^ spec^l, spinninijj round — now one leading;, now the 
 other, sometimes head tlrst, sometimes feet first. The 
 shock of the onconiers was too much for the rest of us to 
 withstand, and even with our ice-axes well set in the soft 
 snow, we all slid some distance in a bunch. At lens^th 
 our axes had the desired effect and the procession came 
 to a standstill. It reciuired some time to unwind the tan- 
 gled ropes wherein we were enmeshed like flies in a 
 spider's wv.h, owing to the complicated figures we had 
 executed in our descent. Meanwhile, a committee of one 
 was appointed to go back and pick up the scattered hats, 
 ice-axes, and such other wreckage as could be found. 
 
 The end of the descent was accomplished in a better 
 manner, and in less than ten minutes we were 1500 
 feet below the pass. A short, steep scramble down 
 some rocky ledges, where strong alder bushes gave good 
 support for lowering ourselves, brought us in a few min- 
 utes to the valley bottom. At this level the air was warm 
 and pleasant as we entered an open grove of larch and 
 spruce trees. In the last quarter of an hour we had 
 passed through all the gradations from an arctic climate, 
 where the cold air, the great masses of perpetual snow, 
 and bleak rocks, made a wintry picture, to the genial cli- 
 mate of the temperate zone, where were fresh and beau- 
 tiful meadows enlivened by bright flowers, gaudy insects. 
 
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 i 
 
 I 
 
m 
 
 96 
 
 The (Canadian Rockies. 
 
 and th(! smallt-r moiiiitain aniiiuils. Humholdt has truly 
 said : " In tlu; phj-sical as in the moral world, tlu; contrast 
 of effects, tiur coinparison o( what is powerful and nw.n- 
 acinj^ with what is soft and peaceful, is a never failing 
 source of our [)l(!asures and our emotions." 
 
 We followed a small, cl(;ar stntani of an unusual na- 
 ture. In some places it j^lided quietl)" anil swiftly over a 
 slopinjr floor of solid stont,-, polished and j^^roovitd in some 
 past age by glaciers. A little farth(;r on, the character of 
 the mountain stream sufferinl a change, and the water 
 now found its way in many sharp, angular turns and nar- 
 row courses by large square blocks of stone, for the most 
 part covered by a thick carpet of moss, while between 
 were deep pools and occasional miniature waterfalls. 
 
 Pursuing our way with rapid steps, for we were like 
 adventurers in some fairy-land of nature, where every 
 moment reveals new wonders, we came at length to an 
 opening in the forest, where the stream dashed over some 
 rocky ledges, that frost and age had rent asunder and 
 thrown down in wild disorder, till the stream bed was 
 fairly strewn with giant masses of sandstone. Some of 
 these colossal fragments were apparently just balanced on 
 sharp edges, and seemed ever ready to fall from their in- 
 secure positions. The variety and novelty of form pre- 
 sented by the falling water, as the streamlets divided here 
 and united there, some over, some imder, the stone 
 bridges accidentally formed in this confusion of nature, 
 aroused our greatest admiration. 
 
 As we advanced down the valley towards the north, 
 

 Weill \ I •()! lowers. 
 
 07 
 
 the outlines of tUv. mountains chanjj^i-'d, and we recoj^nized 
 at leiij^til the bare slopes of the southern side of Mount 
 'r('ni[)le, which at first seemed to us a stransj^e mountain. 
 Meanwhile, we had approacheil very near to the base of 
 the beautiful mountr.'n with th(t doubh; peak and the 
 many pinnacles, and found that proximity did not rciuler 
 it less attractive. 
 
 The stream which we followed had been joined by 
 many other rivulets and sprini^s till it i^rew to be wide 
 and deep. At length a muildy torn.'nt. direct from the 
 glacier at the head of the valley, added new volunu; and 
 polluted the crystal snow-waters of the stream which we 
 had followed from its very source. 
 
 P^or many hours we followed the banks of the small 
 river formed by these two branches, and fouiul it an al- 
 most continuous succession of rapids, constantly descend- 
 ing, and with a channel swinging to right and left, every 
 few hundred yards, in a winding course. 
 
 H. and I led the way, and frequently lost sight of the 
 others who were beginning to tire and preferred a slower 
 pace. We waited on several occasions for them to come 
 up with us, though it seemed as if we should no more than 
 reach the chalet before nightfall, even by putting forth 
 our best efforts. 
 
 About 6.30 o'clock we came to a swampy tract, where 
 the trees grew sparingly, and gave the appearance of a 
 meadow to an expanse of nearly level ground, covered 
 with fine grass and sedges. Here, after a long wait for 
 our friends, who had not been seen for some time, we 
 
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 i' 
 
 11 
 
f 
 I 
 
 h 1^ 
 
 98 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 decided to write a note on a piece of paper and attach it 
 to a pole in a conspicuous place where they could not fail 
 to see it. Th*' ir.osquitoes were so numerous that it was 
 almost impossible to remain quiet lontr enough to write a 
 few words explaining our plans. On the top of the stick 
 we placed a small splinter of wood in a slit, and made it 
 point in the exact direction we intended to take. 
 
 Having accomplished these duties in the best manner 
 possible, we set out for the chalet with all speed, as we 
 did not relish the idea of making a bivouac in the woods 
 and spending a cheerless night after our long fast. It 
 was evident that we were now at the outlet of the valley, 
 and that, unless we should encounter very rough country 
 with much fallen limber, our chances were irood for reach- 
 ing the chalet before darkness rendered travelling impos- 
 sible. It was likewise important to reach the lake on 
 account of those at tlie chalet, v.ho might think that the 
 whole party had met with some accident on the mountain, 
 unless some of us turned up that night. 
 
 We ciccordingly walked as fast as our waning strength 
 permitted, and after surmounting a ridge about 800 feet 
 high, which formed part of the lower slopes of Saddle 
 Mountain, we found no great difficult)- in forcing a pas- 
 sage through the forest for several miles, when we came 
 upon the trail to tlie Saddle. We reached the lake at 8. 15 
 P.M., 'Viid after shouting in vain for some one to send over 
 a boat we for led the stream and entered the chalet, where 
 a sumptuous repast was ordered foithwith, and to which 
 we did ample justice after our walk of twelve hours duration. 
 
A HivoiKic in the I'\)rLst. 
 
 99 
 
 Our less fortunate friends did not appear till the n(!Xt 
 niorninjr. They discovered our note, but decided not to 
 take our route, as they thought it safer to follow the stream 
 till it joined the Bow River. They had not proceeded 
 far, however, beyond the place where we had left the note, 
 before they became entangled in a large area of fallen 
 timber and prostrate trees, wJK^re they were ovc;rtaken 
 by night and compelled to giv(; up all hope of reaching 
 Lake Louise till the next day. In the dark forest they 
 made a small fire, ami were at first tormented by mos- 
 quitoes and, later, by the chill of advancing night, so that 
 sleep was impossible. The extreme wearinf"^s of (ex- 
 hausted nature, crowned by hunger and sleeplessness amid 
 clouds of voracious mosquitoes, was only offset bj' the 
 contents of a flask, with which they endeavored to revive 
 their drooping spirits, and cherish the feeble spark of life 
 till dawn. 
 
 Fortunately, the nights in this latitude are short, and 
 at four o'clock they continued their way to the liow 
 River, which they followed till they reached Latrcran. 
 
 About six days later, a little column of smoke was ob- 
 served rising from the forests towards the east, and from 
 Laggan we learned that the woods were on fire, anti tliat 
 about forty acres of land were already in a blaze. A 
 large gang of section men were despatched at once with 
 water buckets and axes to fight the fire. The fire did not 
 prove so extensive, however, as at first reporf-d, and in 
 about two days all the men were recalled. 
 
 William said to one of us : " Me think two white man 
 
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 aOHBHIBH 
 
 I i 
 
 III! 
 
 lOO 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 light him fire;" ; to which our friends repHed that it was 
 impossible, as the fire had broken out nearly a week after 
 they had been there. 
 
 William replied, with the only trace of sarcasm I have 
 ever known him to use : " White man no light fire, oh 
 no, me think sun light him." 
 
I I 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 J'/it' Jl'ilii C/iiiiiichr t>f Paradise \'alU-\ — J)ijficu/iics 7i'it/i J\ick 
 Horses — A Remarkable Acciiieiit — Our Camp and Surronnc/in^^s — Annua/ 
 Friends — Midsummer J'/oweis — Desolation Valley — Ascent of Hazel J'eak 
 — An Alpine Lake in a J<'isin of fa — First Attempt to Scale Aft. female — 
 Our Camp l>y a Small f.ake — A Mild and Stormy A'iglit — .-/// fmpassahle 
 Barrier — A Scene of Utter Desolation — All Xatiire Sleeps — fDificulties 
 of Ascent — The If it; /test J'oint yet Readied in Canada — Paradise Valley in 
 Winter — Farewell to Lake Louise. 
 
 OUR delightful experience in l^aratlise. \'alley con- 
 vinced us that a camp should be established in 
 it near the southern l^ase of Mount Temple, 
 which we ho[)ed to ascend. TVom this camp we in- 
 tended to make branch excursions in all direct!'. n^ and 
 learn something of the mountains toward i:ast and 
 
 south. .AH this region, though so near i railroad, 
 had apparently never been explored by the sur\' '" s, 
 and the (;arly expeditions had of course; never approached 
 this rciifion nearer than th(; \'ermilion Pass on the (;ast 
 and the Kicking Morsti Pass on the west. In all our 
 expeditions through these lonely but grand mountain 
 valleys, we never discovered any mark of axe or knife 
 on the trees, any charred pieces of wood to indicat(t a 
 camper's fire, nor any cairn or pile of stones to [irove 
 some climber's conquest. 
 
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I02 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 In fact, the impenetrable barrier of mountains at every 
 valley end dissolved the surveyor's hopes, even from a 
 distance, of findiny; an)- practicable pass throus^h th(; maze 
 of lofty mountains and intervening valleys blocked with 
 glaciers and vast heaps of moraine. The lone prospector 
 would not be tempted by any sign of gold in the streams 
 to explore these valleys, though the Indian hunter may 
 have occasionally visited these regions in search of bears 
 
 or the mountain iroat. 
 
 We first blazed a trail from the chalet to the entrance 
 of Paradise Valley. The route followed was merely the 
 best and most open pathway that we could find through 
 the forests, and though not mcjre than three miles in 
 length, it required as many hours to reach the valley 
 entrance. Pack horses we obtained at the chalet, but no 
 man could be found who would consent to act as our cook 
 or assistant in managing the horses. 
 
 Our camp was at length established by the side of a 
 small rivulet on the lower slopes of Mount Temple, where 
 we found the altitude to be 6900 feet above sea-level. Our 
 experiences with pack animals were (^f a most exciting- 
 nature and sometimes severel)- trying to our temper and 
 patience. The horses were not accustomed to this ser- 
 vice and performed all sorts of antics, smashing the packs 
 among the trees, jumping high in air to cl< ar a small 
 stream six inches wide, or plunging regartlicss into 
 rivers where, for a moment, the horse and packs would be 
 submerged in the water. There was one place about two 
 miles within the valley entrance that might well try the 
 
 t^«K' 
 
Difficulties with Pack Horses. 
 
 103 
 
 patience of Job himself. On one side of the stream, 
 was an impassable area covered with tree trunks criss- 
 crossed and piled two or three deep by some snow-slide 
 of former years. On the other side of the stream, 
 which we were compelled to take, was a dense forest. 
 Below was a tangled growth of bush, and many fallen 
 trees, all resting on a foundation of large loose stones 
 covered six inches deep with green moss. Between these 
 stones were deep holes and occasional underground streams, 
 the water of which could be faintly heard below and which 
 had probably washed away the soil and left these angular 
 stones unprotected. To lead a horse through this place 
 required the greatest skill, patience, and even daring. 
 Without some one to lead the animal with a rope, the 
 poor beast would stand motionless, but to pick one's wax- 
 over the rough ground while leading the; horse invariably 
 ended in disaster. The very first hole was enough to 
 frighten the horse, so that, instead of proceeding more 
 slowly, the animal usually made a mad rush forward regard- 
 less of the leader, who invariably tied and sought the pro- 
 tection of a tree, while the horse soon fell prostrate among 
 the maze of obstacles. In these frantic rushes many of 
 us were several times trampled on by the horse, and the 
 packs were smashed against the branches and truidcs of 
 trees, or torn off altogether. This was an e.xceediuLdv 
 dangerous bit of ground, and it was remarkable that on so 
 many occasions we were able to lead our horses through 
 it without a broken letr- 
 
 One of our most remarkable adventures with a horse 
 
 1 1 
 
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 i' 
 
 .itiii^ 
 
I04 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 may indeed test the credence of the reader, but five men 
 can vouch for its actual occurrence. We were passinjj 
 along through the forest in our usual manner, which was 
 the outgrowth of much experience. First of all, one man 
 preceded and did nothing else but find the blaze marks 
 and keep on the ill-defined trail as well as possible. 
 About twenty-five yards behind came another man whose 
 duty it was to find the pathfinder, and if possible, improve 
 on his trail. Then came one of our party who led the 
 horse with a long head rope, while behind the horse were 
 two men whose duty it was to pick up whatever articles 
 fell out of the packs from time to time, and fasten them 
 on again. 
 
 As we were proceeding in this manner, we came to 
 a slanting tree which leaned over the trail at an angle of 
 about thirty degrees. It was just small enough to be 
 limber, and just large enough to be strong. Moreover, it 
 was too low for the horse to go under, and a little too 
 high for him to jump over. One might travel a lifetime 
 and never meet with just such anotlier tree as this. In 
 less than ten seconds this tree had brought the horse and 
 two of our party to the ground and wrought consterna- 
 tion in our ranks. 
 
 As the horse approached the slanting tree, F., who 
 was leading, saw the animal rear high in the air to prepare 
 for a jump. He thought it best to get out of the way, 
 but in his haste stumbled and fell headlonof into a bush. 
 Meanwhile the horse, a stupid old beast, prepared for the 
 effort of his life, and with a tremendous spring jumped 
 
A Remarkable Accident. 
 
 105 
 
 hii>h in air, but unfortunately his fore-feet cauij^ht on the 
 small tree, which swung forward a little and then returninsr 
 like a powerful spring, turned the animal over in mid-air. 
 The horse landed on his back some five yards farther on, 
 and, with his four legs straight up in the air, remained 
 motionless as death. But this was not all, for the tree 
 swung back violently and struck H. on tiie nose, fortu- 
 nately at the end of the swing, but with suiificient force to 
 knock him down. 
 
 When our two friends recovered, we turned our atten- 
 tion to the horse, which still remained motionless on his 
 back. " He is dead," said F., but, on rolling him over, 
 the poor animal got up and seemed none the worse for 
 his experience, except for a more than usual stupidity. 
 
 • We camped about ten days in Paradise Valley in a 
 beautiful spot near the end. Here, on all sides except 
 towards the north, the place is hemmed in by lofty moun- 
 tains. We saw the valley in all sorts of weather, in clear 
 sunshiny days, and when the clouds hung low and shut 
 out the mountains from view. On one or two occasions 
 the ground was white with snow for a short time, thoutrh 
 our visit was during the first part of August. 
 
 Many kinds of animals frequented the valley, and some 
 of the smaller creatures lived in the rocks on all sides of 
 our camp and became quite friendly. One of the most 
 intf^resting little animals of the Canadian Rockies is the 
 little pica, or tailless hare. This small animal abounded 
 in the vicinity of our camp and is in fact alwa^'s found at 
 about 7000 feet altitude. It is a hare about the size of 
 
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 1 06 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
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 a rat, which, with its round cars, it more resembles. These 
 httle fellows have a dismal squeak, and they are very 
 impertinent in their manner of sittins^ up amonj^ the rocks 
 at the entrance to their holes, and t;a/in_i:j at their human 
 visitors, ever ready to pop out of sight at a sii^n of danj^^er. 
 Chipmunks were likewise abundant and visited our camp 
 to pick up scattered crumbs from our table. 
 
 There is a species of rat with a bushy tail that lives 
 in the forests and rocky places of these mountains and 
 is the most arrant thief amonjr all the rodents. Nothing 
 is too large for them to try and carry off, and th(;y will 
 make away with the camper's compass, aneroid, or watch, 
 and hide them in some inaccessible hole, apparently with 
 the desire to set up a collection of curios. 
 
 The siftleur, or marmot, is the largest among these 
 rodents, and reaches the length of twenty-five or thirty 
 inches. These animals usually frequent high altitudes 
 at, or above the tree line, where they build large nests 
 among the rocks and lay up a store of provisions for win- 
 ter time. They are very fat in the fall, but it is not known 
 wliether they hibernate or not. Their note is a very loud 
 shrill whistle, which they make at a distance, but they never 
 allow one to approach very near, like the impudent picas. 
 
 We saw very few of the mountain goats, though we 
 often came upon their fresh tracks in the mud near streams 
 or in the snow far up on the mountain sides. On several 
 occasions we could hear the patter and rattle of stones 
 sent down by the movements of some herd, though our 
 eyes failed to detect them. 
 
Midsummer I 'lowers. 
 
 lo: 
 
 Where the forests grew thick in the valley, the herbs 
 and llowering plants were always less numerous, but in the 
 meadows the nrouiul was colored by mountain Mowers of 
 beautiful shades and pretty forms. The tasselled heads of 
 the large anemones, long since gone to seed, were conspic- 
 uous everywhere, and they are always a beautiful object 
 among the meadow grass as the summer breezes make 
 gentle waves <)\er these seas of verdure. Along the bare 
 rocky margins of tlie streams, where all else has been 
 forced to retire by occasional floods, two species of plants 
 make a most brilliant coloring and dazzle the eye with 
 discordant shades. They are the castilleias, or painter's 
 brush, with bright scarlet and green leaves clustered at 
 the top of a leafy stem, and the epilobiums, with reddish- 
 purple blossoms ; these two plants were often so close 
 together with their inharmonious color tones as to perplex 
 the observer in regard to nature's meaning. When nature 
 does such things we grow to like her apparent mistakes, 
 just as we love the bitter-sweet chords of Schumann, or 
 Grieg's harsh harmonies. 
 
 We made several excursions into the next valley to the 
 eastward, and beyond that, over the water-shed into British 
 Columbia. The valley to the east offered the (greatest 
 contrast to Paradise Valley. It was somewhat wider, the 
 altitude was in general higher, so that a great part was 
 above the tree line, while the awful wildness and con- 
 fusion created by vast heaps of moraine and a large 
 glacier at the foot of a range of saw-edged mountains 
 made this place seem like a vale of desolation and death. 
 
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 1 08 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 At tlui close of ourcampinjT experie;nces, we effected the 
 conquest of two mountains, Hazel Peak and Mount Teni- 
 jjle, on two successive days. VV<; tirst tried Hazt.-l Peak, 
 antl by following the route which hail been previous!)' se- 
 lected, wt; found the ascent remarkably <;asy. ( )n the 
 summit, the climber is 10,370 feet above sea-level, — higher 
 than the more c(!lebrated Mount Stephen, oftiMi claimed 
 to bt; the highest along the railroad, — and surrounded by 
 more high peaks than can Ix; foiuul at any other known 
 part of th(; Canadian Rockies, south of Alaska. In fact 
 there are seven or i;ight peaks within a radius of si.\ miles 
 that are over 11,000 feet high. 
 
 The view is, at tlu; same time, grand and inspiring, and 
 has certain attractions that high mountain views rarely 
 present. The rock precipice and snow-crowned crest of 
 Mount Lefroy are separated from the summit of Hazel 
 Peak by one of the grandest and deepest canyons of the 
 Canadian Rockies, so that the distance from summit to 
 summit is only one mile and a half. The ascent of Hazel 
 Peak is certainly well worth the labor of the climb, as the 
 round trip may be easily accomplished from Paradise Val- 
 ley in five hours, though the ascent is nearly 4000 feet. 
 
 On the north side, from the very summit, a fine glacier 
 sweeps down in steep pitch far into the valley below and 
 with its pure white snow and yawning blue crevasses 
 of unfathomable depth, forms one of the most attractive 
 features of this mountain. The most remarkable and 
 beautiful object that we discovered, however, was a small 
 lake or pool of water only a few yards below the summit 
 
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 If 
 
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 I 
 
 -' <»'niajw^ !*«**«■ 
 
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 First Attempt on Mt. 'J'cnij)le. 
 
 109 
 
 of the mountain. Encircled on all sides by the pure snows 
 of these lofty altitudes, and embedded, as it were, in a blue 
 crystal basin of glacier ice, the water of this little lake was 
 colored deep as indigo, while over the surface a film of ice. 
 formed during the previous night, had not yet melted 
 away. 
 
 We returned to camp much elated with our success but 
 doubtful of the morrow, as no easy route had yet been dis- 
 covered up the forbidding slopes of Mount Temple. The 
 year before, Mr. A. and I had been hopelessly defeated 
 even when we had counted most on success. Moreover, 
 the mere fact that, though this mountain was the highest 
 yet discovered anywhere near the railroad, it had never 
 been ascended by any surveyor or climber, made success 
 appear less probable, though it urged us on to a keener 
 ambition. 
 
 The attempt by A. and myself to ascend this mountain 
 in 1893 was probably the first ever made. During the 
 first week of August, we started from Laggan, havinof 
 with us a Stoney Indian, named Enocli Wildnian, and one 
 horse to carry our tent and provisions. The tlay was un- 
 usually hot, and, as we forced our monotonous and tiresome 
 passage through the scanty forests of pine near the Bow 
 River, we suffered very much from heat and thirst. In 
 these mountain excursions, it is the best policy to wear 
 very heavy clothes, even at the disadvantage of b(,'ing un- 
 comfortable during the day, for the nights are invariably 
 cold, even at low altitudes. We did not camj) until night- 
 fall, when we found ourselves on the northern slope of 
 
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 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 the mountain, 7000 feet above sea-level, by the side 
 of a small lake. The little lake occupied a depression 
 among giant boulders and the debris of the mountain. 
 At one end, a large bank of snow extended into and below 
 the water, which was apparently rising, as there were frag- 
 ments of frozen snow lloating about in the lake. The 
 banks sloped steeply into the water on all sides, and there 
 was not a single lev(;l spot for our camp, so that it was 
 necessary to build a wall of stones, near the water's edge, 
 for our feet, and to prevent ourselves from sliding into the 
 lake during the night. 
 
 The weather was wild and stormy, and the long night 
 seemed to drag out its weary length to an interminable ex- 
 tent of time, attended as it was by showers of rain and 
 hail and furious gusts of wind, which threatened to bring 
 our flapping tent to the ground at any moment. 
 
 Our camp-fire, which had been built on a scale appropri- 
 ate to some larger race of men, was a huge pile of logs, 
 each fidly ten feet long, and twelve or eighteen inches 
 through, but the wind blew so strong that the mass roared 
 like a vast forge during the early hours, and then died 
 away into an inert mass of cinders toward the chill of 
 morning. 
 
 The light of day revealed our wild surroundings. We 
 were under the northern precipice of Mount Temple, and 
 so close that we could see only the lower part of this in- 
 accessible wall. A beautiful fall dashed down in a series 
 of cascades through a distance of about 1000 feet, 
 and fed our little lake. Sometimes the strong wind, blow- 
 
An Impassable Barrier. 
 
 Ill 
 
 in_o- against the cliff, or sweeping iipward, would make the 
 water pause and momentarily hang in mid-air, suspended, 
 as it were, on an invisible airy cushion, till gathering 
 greater volume, it would hurst through the barrier and 
 fall in a curtain of sparkhng drops. 
 
 Poor Enoch had suffered terribly from cold during che 
 night, and begged our permission to return to Laggan, 
 promising to come back the next day — " sun so high," 
 pointing to its place in the early afternoon. He said in 
 his broken English : " No grass for pony here, too cold me ; 
 no like it me." So we took pity on him and sent him back 
 to more comfortable quarters while we rested in compara- 
 tive quiet, ii being Sunday. 
 
 Early Monday morning we had our breakfast and were 
 on foot at four o'clock. The gloom of early dawn, the 
 chill of morning, and the cloudy sky had no cheering effect 
 on our anticipations. Our plan was to traverse the moun- 
 tain side till we should come to the southeast shoulder, 
 where we had once observed an outline of apparently 
 easy slope. 
 
 By eleven o'clock we had reached an altitude of nearly 
 10,000 feet without meeting with any very great 
 difficulty, but here we came suddenly to a vertical wall 
 of rock about 400 feet high and actually htaning 
 over in many places, a barrier that completely defeated 
 us, as the wall extended beyond our view and offered no 
 prospect of giving out. At the base of this cliff was a 
 steep, narrow slope of loose, broken limestone, and then 
 another precipice below. Along this dangerous pathway 
 
 If 
 
 ( 
 
 li' 
 
 ; 
 
 1 ! 
 
w 
 
 ii 
 
 ' 
 
 I 12 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 we continued for some distance, kee|jiii_>f close to the base 
 of the chff. The U)Ose stontis, set in motion by our feet, 
 shd down and rolled over the precipice, where we could 
 hear them grindinsr to powder on the cliffs below. 
 
 Never in my life have I been so much impressed with 
 the stern and desolate side of nature. The air was bitter 
 cold and had the frosty ozone odor of winter. A stronjr 
 wind rushed constantly by us, and, as it swept up the 
 gorores of the precipice above, and over the countless pro- 
 jections of the cliffs, made a noise like the hoarse murmur of 
 wind in a ship's rigging, or the blast of some great furnace. 
 To the south and east, range beyond range of bare, saw- 
 edged mountains raised their cold, sharp summits up to a 
 cloudy sky, where the strong wind drove threatening 
 clouds in long trains of dark and lighter vapors. The in- 
 tervening valleys, destitute of vegetation or any green 
 thing, were filled with glaciers and vast heaps of moraine, 
 and the slides of debris from the adjacent mountain side. 
 All was desolate, gloomv, cold, and monotonous in color. 
 Three thousand feet below, a small lake was still bound 
 fast in the iron jaws of wint(;r, surrounded as it was by 
 the walls of mountains which shut out the light and 
 warmth of the summer sun. Inert, inanimate nature here 
 held perpetual rule in an everlasting winter, where sum- 
 mer, with its (lowers and birds ar.d pleasant fertility, is 
 unknown, and man rarely ventures. 
 
 Overcome with the terrors of this lonely place and the 
 hopelessness of further attempt to reach the summit, 
 where a snow-storm was now racing, we turned back. As 
 
All Nature Sleeps. 
 
 I r 
 
 J 
 
 we reached our camp we found Enoch just approachin,i,r, 
 accordint^r to his promise, and though the afternoon was 
 well advanced, we packed uj) and mo\ed with all speed 
 toward Laggan. We reached Lake Louise at 10.30 I'.m., 
 after almost nineteen hours of constant walking. 
 
 Now, however, at our camp in Parailise \'alley, the 
 conditions were somewhat different. We were at the 
 very base of the mountain, and had learned much more 
 about it, in the year that had elapsed since our first 
 attempt. 
 
 The mountaineer has many discomforts n'ingled with 
 the keen enjoyment of his rare experiences. None is 
 more trying than the early hour at which he -'s compelled 
 to rise from his couch of balsam iioughs and set forth 
 on his morning toil. At the chill hour befort; dawn, when 
 all nature stagnates and animate creation is plunged 
 in deepest sl(;ep, the mountain climber must needs arouse 
 himself from heavy slumber and, unwilling, compel his 
 sluggish body into action. 
 
 This is the deadest hour of the twenty-four — the time 
 just before dawn. The breezes of earl)- night have died 
 away into a cold and frosty calm ; the thermometer sinks 
 to its lowest point, and even the barometer, as though in 
 sympathy, reaches one of its diurnal minima at this un- 
 timely hour. And if inanimate nature is thus greatly 
 affected, much more are the creations of the vegetable 
 and animal kingdoms. The plants are suffering from tiie 
 cold and frost ; the animals of daytime have not as yet 
 aroused themselves from sleep, while the nocturnal prowl- 
 
 It 
 
 I' 
 
m 
 
 114 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 I I' 
 
 1^ 
 
 ! 
 
 i 
 i 
 
 vAs have already ceased their ([lu-st of prey and returned 
 to tlieir dens. Even man is affected, for at this dead hour 
 the ebb and pulse of life beat slow and feeble, and the lin- 
 gering^ spark of life in those wasted by disease comes at 
 this time most near nfoinsj; out. 
 
 At such an unseasonable hour, or more accurately at 
 four A.M., were we up, on the 17th of August pre- 
 paring for our ascent of Mount Temph;. There was no 
 trace of dawn, and the waning moon, now in her last quar- 
 ter, was riding low in the southern sky, just above the 
 sharp triangular peak at the end of our valley. 
 
 At nine o'clock in the morning, we had gained the 
 summit of the pass between Mount Temple and Pinnacle 
 Mountain, where we were 9000 feet above sea-level. 
 The ascent so far had not been of an encouraging nature, 
 as we iiad encount(!red a long, loose slide where every- 
 thing moved threateningly at each step. I have never 
 seen a more unstible slope. The stones and boulders 
 would slide, and begin to move at a tlistance of ten and 
 fifteen feet above the place wlv^re we stood, and on every 
 side also. F., who was one of the party, \vas terror- 
 stricken, for he now had a horror of moving stones of 
 any description. 
 
 The view from this pass was very extraordinary. To 
 the cast stood the rugged, saw-edg(.'d mountains of the 
 Desolation Range, looming up in solemn grandeur through 
 an atmosphere bluish and hazy with the smoke of forest 
 fires. The air was perfectly calm and had the bracing 
 coolness of early morning and high altitude, which the 
 
IIi_Lihcst I\)int Reached in Canada. 
 
 '15 
 
 :t 
 
 risino sun tempered most gentl\-. I'hc weather condi- 
 tions for accomphsiiin^' our ascent wert; perfect, hut there 
 was httle pros[)(;ct of a Cwu: vi(.'\v hy reason of the smoke. 
 'I'h(! outh)ok from the pass was indetxl discouras^ing. 
 Cliffs and h;dg("s with broken stones and loose debris 
 seemed to oppose all safe passage. Fortunately, as we pro- 
 gressed the difficulties vanished, antl not till w(; reached an 
 altitude of about 10,000 feet ilid we encountt;r any n^al ob- 
 stacles. We found a passagi; through the great rock wall 
 which had defeated us last \ear, by the aid of a little gully, 
 which, however, entailed sonie rather difficult climbing. 
 This arduous 
 work continued 
 
 throughout the 
 ne.\t 1000 feet, 
 
 when, at an alti- 
 tude of I 1,000 
 feet, we came to 
 the great slope 
 bet w e e n the 
 southwest and 
 west an'/cs and 
 fountl an easy 
 passage to the 
 summit. 
 
 Many a liearty cheer rent the thin air as our little 
 party of three reached tht- summit, for we were standing 
 where no man had v\(tv stood bc^fore, and, if I mistake 
 not, at the highest altitude )'et reached in North America 
 
 SUMMIT or MOUNT TEMPLE. 
 
 7 } 
 
 i 
 
 \ 
 
 i 
 
 f 
 
 ii 
 
 ;4ii 
 
 I 
 
■^BT- 
 
 ll 
 
 ii6 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 I 
 
 imrth of the United States boundary. The summit was 
 formeil of hard hhiish limestones, broken ami piled up in 
 blocks, as on all lii.L^h mountain tops. The clifTs towanl 
 the east were stupendous and led the eye down t(j the 
 valley more than a mile below. The air was almost calm 
 and just above freezint^, and the snow was meltinj^ cjuite 
 fast in the sun. The thermometer at the Lake Louise 
 chalet reached seventy-two deijrees at the same time that 
 we were on the summit o( Mount Temple, which provt.-s 
 this to be almost the highest temperature that (;ver occurs 
 on this lofty point. It would be safe to say that the tem- 
 perature on the top of Mount Temple never rises liiifher 
 than forty degrees. 
 
 If one is fortunate in a <rood selection of routes, th(t 
 ascent of Mount Temple will not be found difficult. Hut 
 the descent is very perple.xing, for unless one remem- 
 bers the intricate coiaumation of ({ullies and ledws b\' 
 which the ascent is made, many precipitous cliffs will be 
 encountered down which it is impossible to descend. 
 
 This was our last evxploit in Paradise Valh^y, and a 
 few days later the various members of our party, one b)- 
 one, bade farewell to the beautiful region of Lake Louise 
 with its many pleasant associations. 
 
 I remained there five or six weeks longer until wint(;r 
 commenced in earnest and drove every one away. During 
 the first week of October I made a final visit to Paradise 
 Valley with Mr. Astley, the manager of the chalet, in order 
 to bring Ijack our tent and the camping utensils. Snow 
 covered the ground in the shady parts of the woods, even 
 
Paradise Valley in Winter 
 
 "7 
 
 at the entrance of the valley. The stream had fallen so 
 much that its rocky bed proved the best route up the 
 valley, especially for the horse. After an hour's journey 
 within the entrance we found ourselves at th(! base of 
 Mount .Sheol, ami not far above us could be seen a tine 
 herd of seven or eight mountain jjjoats. They scampered 
 off on seeinj^r us, but soon came; to halt as they were 
 tempted by curiosity to have another look. These snow- 
 white L,^oats are the most characteristic animals of the 
 Rocki(,'s and nearly correspond in habits with liie more 
 cunninu^ chamois of Switzerland. Like them it is a species 
 of antelope, though it resembles a goat to a remarkable 
 degree. 
 
 We found our camp buried in snow, the ridge-poU; of 
 the tent broken down witii the heavy burden, and every- 
 thing so much disguised by the wintry mantle that we 
 had difficulty in finding the camping place. Even as wr. 
 were packing up the frozen canvas and blankets, the air 
 was full of falling snow and the mountains encircling the 
 valley wert: only revealed in vague antl indefinite outlines, 
 while (n'er and anon could be heard th(; dull roar of snow- 
 slides sweeping down to the glacier. 
 
 x\bout nightfall we were back at the entrance to the 
 valley, where tiie lower altitude gave us the advantage 
 of a ground nearly free of snow, though a line rain sifted 
 down through the spruce needles almost constanth'. 
 
 Here we camped in the dense forest, and our roaring 
 fire, built high with great logs, soon drove awa\- the chill 
 and dampness of the rainy night. The tent, our clothes, 
 
 e 
 
 ' -i 
 
 i 
 
 t 
 
■•ir 
 
 ii8 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 ami the mossy ,t,n-oiiii(l were soon stcaminj^, and tlu; hrij^iit 
 glare of our camp-fire illumined the trees ami '^..wi: us 
 jj^ood cheer, surrouiid(;d as we were by miles of trackless 
 forests in the blackness of nij^ht. A heart)' su|)per and 
 a i^real pail of stron*;' h(jt tea soon revived our spirits, 
 anil on a soft couch of he-aths and balsam bouj^hs— more 
 luxurious than any b(;d of '!a-.v:i — we bid defiance to »he 
 darkness and storm in perfect comfort. The next day 
 the snow-llakes were fallinj^ i^ently and steadily, so that the 
 trees were covered even to their branchlets and needles 
 with the white mantle. The bushes, the mosses, and even 
 the blades of grass in the swampy marshes, as we pursued 
 our homeward way, were all concealed and transformed 
 into pure white images of themselves in snow. 
 
 A few days later I went up to Lake Agnes to hunt 
 for mountain goats, which frequent this place in great 
 numl)(;rs. The snow was two feet deep. The lake was 
 already nearly covered with ice, and I was compelled to 
 seek shelter behind a cliff against a bitterly cold wind, 
 driving icy particles of hail and snow against my face. 
 
 It was useless to prolong the contest longer. Winter 
 had resumed her iron sway in these boreal regions and 
 high altitudes, and in a few weeks Lake Louise too would 
 begin to freeze, and no longer present its endless change 
 of ripple and calm, light and shadow, or the reflected 
 images of rocks and trees and distant mountains. 
 
chapti-:r VIII. 
 
 Till- Selkirk^ — UtOj^mpliical /'<>.<i/ii>n I'l t//i- /'iitiit^r — (i(><ii/ Clwci i>f 
 the Glacier Ifousc — Charmini; Situation -l. 'oiii/'ini.^iin /irlii'mi t/ir Sdkii ks 
 ami Rockies — F.arly Mountain . licrnts — /\-iisity vf the h'orest — Ascent i>f 
 Ea^le Peak — A Magnificent Panorama — . / /descent in the Darkness — 
 Account of a Tcrril>le Experience on Eag/e J'eak — Trails throuj^h t/ie 
 Forest — Future Popularity of the Selkirk^ — The Forest Eri'nerai- .In 
 Epitome of Human Life — Age of Trees — Foirsts Dependent on llumiditx, 
 
 WI{ST of thai chain of tlu- Rocky Mountains 
 whicli forms tlu- cix'st or backbone of the. 
 continent, lies another system of mouiitiins 
 called the Selkirk Ranije. Mavi no- many features in com- 
 mon with the mountains to tiie east, this range has, never- 
 theless, certain constant characteristics of vey^etation and 
 geolou^ical formation, so that llu; traveller who is but 
 slij^htly familiar with them shouKl never be at a loss in 
 regard to his surroundings. 
 
 The position of this range in relation to the other 
 mountains of the great Cordilleran System is not difficult 
 to understand. The Selkirks may be said to begin in north- 
 western Montana between the Summit Range and the Bitter 
 Root Mountains, and, trending in a northwestward direc- 
 tion through British Columbia about three hundred miles, 
 they approach the main range and apparently merge into 
 
 IK) 
 
 I J 
 
 ( 
 
I20 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 iL near the 
 )ftlu 
 
 A thai 
 
 )as(a 
 
 ass. 
 
 lu' most remarkable fcat- 
 
 uri: ot u\v. ranj;c: is thr. m.uiiur in whuh it compels tlu- Ljreat 
 Columbia River to run northward for lift)' leagues on its 
 eastern sitU', before it allows a passagi; to the wist, so that 
 the northern portions of tin.- range are entirely hemmed 
 
 m I) 
 
 y 
 
 tl 
 
 lis lari't; river, 
 
 ith 
 
 )\viny in opposite directions on 
 eitlier side. .Another feature of t,freat intere:>t in reijartl 
 to the drainage is tlu: relation betwe( n the Ct)lumbia and 
 Kootanie rivers. The latter river is one of the chief tribu- 
 taries to the iip[)er Columbia, and llows southwani to a 
 point one mile and a half from the head waters of the 
 Columbia, which it pr.sses on its jtnirney southward, while 
 the Columbia Hows in the opposite direction. The water 
 
 of the Koota- 
 nie is actually 
 hii^dier t h an 
 that of t h e 
 Cohiml)ia a t 
 this point, and 
 
 as 
 
 the t 
 
 wo riv- 
 
 ers are only 
 separated b)- a 
 
 ow, 
 
 1 
 
 e \- V 
 
 1 
 
 Pl 
 
 am, It was 
 
 ed 
 
 GLACIER HOUSE. 
 
 once propos 
 to cut a chan- 
 nel between, 
 
 and divert the Kootanie into the Columbia. 
 
 The traveller is always glad to find himself at the 
 
f 
 
 Tlu' (ilacicr I louse. 
 
 I :• I 
 
 This 
 
 (ilacicr House in the heart of the Sclkirks. i ms is 
 morn cspcciall)' true, jl in incvinus Ncais, he has\isit«'cl 
 this charmin}^ spot ami become in sonu' ilej^rce familiar 
 with liu! place. The railroad mak<s a lari^c loop round 
 a narrow vallc)' and sweeps apparentl\- close to the 
 great j^dacicr of the Sclkirks, a vast sea of ice that j^list- 
 ens in a siKerj' white sheen and appears to risi- above 
 the forests as oiu- looks southward. There is somethinL( 
 ])re-eminently comfortable and homelike about the (dacier 
 House. The effect is intleiinable, and one hanlly knows 
 whether the j^eneral style of an ICnj^dish inn, or the genu- 
 ine hos|)itality that oiu' receivi's, is the chief cause. ()ne 
 always fec:ls at home in this wild little spot, and scarce ly 
 realizes that ci\ilization is so far distant. 
 
 The rush of summer j^aii^sts called for the erection of 
 an annex, so that there arc- now two hotels for the aci-om- 
 niodation of tourists. The (dacier House is located near 
 the railroail, and occu|)ies a si'iiall, nearly level, place at the 
 bottom of one of those deep and narrow \alle\s character- 
 istic of the Sclkirks. 'liiose who ha\'e visited the b'ran- 
 conia Notch, in llic \\'hite Mountains woidtl bi' sonic what 
 reminded of that beautiful spot upon first seeing; the 
 surroi;ndin<'^s of (jlacier. The <>roimcl in front of the 
 hotel has been levelled and Is rendered beautiful by a 
 thick carpet of turf. In summer ii is fra_L,n-ant and almost 
 snowy in appearance from the multitude of white clover 
 blossoms. This garden spot in the wilderness is still fur- 
 ther adorned by fountains, which break the continuity of 
 the greensward, and are fed by cascades that may be seen 
 
 ( 
 
 V 
 
I 
 
 III 
 
 122 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 descending the opposite mountain side in many a leap, 
 tiirough a total distance of iSoo feet. 
 
 Hut this small area, that man has improved and ren- 
 dered more suitable to his comfort, is surrounded on all 
 sides by a wilderness, perhaps better described as a little 
 explored range of mountains separattxl by deep gorges 
 and covered with dense forests. It is like the Alps of 
 Switzerland and the Black l^'orest combined. There are 
 snow-clad peaks, large glaciers, and ui'vc regions of vast 
 extent in the higher altitudes, while the valleys below are 
 dark and sombre in their covering of deep, cool forests. 
 Tlu; main range nf the Rockies presents no such rankness 
 of vesjetable trrowth — UKxsses, ferns, and lichens coverinir 
 ever}- available surface on tree trunks and boulders — nor 
 such huge tiees as those found everywhere in the Selkirks. 
 
 Moreov(;r, the mountains of the Selkirk Range proba- 
 bly average looo feet lower than in the corresponding 
 parts of the main range, but neverdieless they seem 
 white and brilliant in their mantles of everlastin<r snow 
 and sparkling glaciers, [""inally, one observes that the rail- 
 road track is covered at frequent intervals b\- snow-sheds 
 of considerable length, constructed of heavy beams and 
 massive timbers, in order to withstand the terrible force 
 and weight of winter snow-slides and avalanches. In the 
 main range of the Rockies there are no snow sheds. The 
 cjuestion naturally arises — What is the reason of all these 
 differences from the more eastern ranges ? 
 
 The answer to the cjuestion is that the climate is more 
 humid. The snowfall in winter is so (rreat that it remains 
 
Humidity of Climate. 
 
 '^3 
 
 all summer at much lower altitudes than in the Rockies, 
 and supplies glaciers, which descend perhaps a thousand 
 feet nearer to sea-level. The moisture from this deep 
 covering of snow, saturates the ground as it melts in the 
 spring, and, in addition to frequent, heav\- summer rains, 
 nourishes the rich forests of these mountains. Moreover, 
 the atmosphere is always slightly moiste'- than it is to tin; 
 east, and does not tend to dry up the grc-und or evaporate 
 the mountain snows so rapidly as in the summit range. 
 
 The eastward movement of the atmosphere carrying 
 up moisture from the Pacific, causes a great condensation 
 of clouds and a heavy rainfall as the air currents pass over 
 the Selkirks, and leaves the atmosphere robbed of a great 
 part of its moisture to pass over the next range to the east. 
 
 Almost all the differences between the Selkirks and 
 th(- Rockies proper, spring from the single cause of a 
 moister climate. The [)rincipal features of extensive snow 
 fields and luxuriant forests can lie readily understood. 
 May not the deep, narrow valle)s of tlur Selkirks be like- 
 wise explained from the more apid action and greater 
 erosive power of the mountain streams in cutting down 
 their channels .-' 
 
 Whatever may be the cause of all these phenomena, 
 the results are very ai)parent. Any one who has visited 
 the Selkirks for an extended periotl has, without doubt, 
 spent many a day within doors writing his diary or enjoy- 
 ing the pleasure of music or literature, while the rain is 
 falling constantl}', and the cloutls and vapors hang low on 
 the mountain sides. The manner in which the clouds 
 
 ( 
 
m 
 
 r ' 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 124 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 come s\vc'''pinir up the Illiccllcv,aet valley at the base of 
 Mount Cheops and turn toward the flanks of I{aj4'le Peak 
 or Mount Sir Donald is ver)- impressive, Certainh' the 
 cloud effects in the Selkirks are magnificent beyond all 
 description. 
 
 Nevertheless, it is not encouraufinor to havt; a friend 
 step off the train and announce the fact that he has been 
 enjoying fine weather for s(;veral days in the Rocky 
 Mountains, some tifly or sixty miles to the east, whih; you 
 have been confined to the house by a long period of rain. 
 
 Often, too, the climber or explorer becomes fretful 
 under long confinement, and, taking advantage of an 
 apparcMit clearing away of clouds and a promise of fair 
 weather, when far from the hotc:], is caught in a sudden 
 tlowp.pour, antl realizes die truth of that scriptural passage 
 whicli was apparently written concerning a simila. region 
 - — " They an- \v(;t with the showers of the mountains, and 
 embrace the rock foi want .A a shelter." 
 
 When the railroad first made this region accessible to 
 tourists, the Selkirks rapidU' accjuired a remarkable popu- 
 larity, especially among mountain climbers, 'n this early 
 period several ])arties came ()ver I mm luigland and other 
 countries (^f JMirope with the express purjK)se of mak- 
 ing mountain ascents. Such parties were those of Or. 
 Green and the two Swiss climbers. Huber and Sulzer. A 
 good idea of the difficulties presentt.-d 1)\ the higher peaks 
 to skilled mountaineers ma\' be had from the fact that 
 1 )r. (ireen and his |)arty only succeeded in reaching 
 the summit of one high peak, while Huber and .Sulzer left 
 
 i 
 
Density of the Forests. 
 
 •-5 
 
 the Hermit RanLje in defeat, though they succeeded in 
 rcachiuL; the top of the shar[) rock peak, M(junt Sir 
 Donald, the Matterhorn of the Selkirks. 
 
 One; of th(? ciiief difticuUies to overcome is the penetra- 
 tion of the f<-rest belt below the tree line. No one who 
 has not tried a Selkirk forest has any conception of its 
 nature in this respect. There are huge tree trunks lying 
 on or near the ground, which have been thrown down by 
 the precipitate fury of some winter snow slide, or have 
 fallen by the natural processes of death and decay. These 
 great obstacles are ofttimes covered with a slippery coating 
 of moss anil lichens, while' the ground is fairly concealed 
 by a rank growth of ferns, and plants in countless variety. 
 The density of the underbrush is renderetl still more trying 
 u") the mountaineer by reason of a i)lani of the Ginseng 
 family, which from its terrible nature is most fitly named 
 the Devil's Club, for it is armed with thousands of lone 
 needle-like' spines. This plant grows hve or six fe(;t high, 
 with a stout stem bearing a few leaves of large size. The 
 spines, which arc; an inch or more in length, project in 
 every direction like an array of (piills on a porcui)ine, and 
 are strong enough to penetrate the skin and lU'sh with 
 surprising facility. The alder buslu's attain a peculiar 
 growth in the Selkirks; each bush consists of a bunch of 
 long slender stems, which spread out from the ground in 
 every direction, ofttimes with nearly prostrate branches, 
 which interlace and form a wellnigh impassable hedge. 
 The alder bushes are found most numerous on I)are slopes 
 of the mountains, where snow slides have stripjjed down 
 
 '' 
 
 < 
 
 i i 
 
■Hi 
 
 I 26 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 the forests; or in ravines, where the crunihhnsj^ earth j^ives 
 no certain foothold to lartjjer and nobler trees. 
 
 In 1S93, A. and 1 made an ascent of Eajjjle l^eak. This 
 mountain lies just to the west from the great wedge-shaped 
 rock summit of Mount Sir Donald. The altitude of Eagle 
 Peak is, I believe, a little more than 9400 feet above 
 sea-level, and as the ("dacier Mouse is only 4400 feet, 
 the ascent invokes a climb of 5000 feet. The name of the 
 mountain is derived from a sjreat eras/ or cliff near the 
 summit, which appears to i^'an lut from a ridge, and bears 
 a striking resemblance to the head of an eagle. When we 
 wer(! making our ascent W(; came suddenly on the Eagle 
 itself, which now, on a nearer view, i)ro\-e(l to be of colos- 
 sal size, a great leaning tower, about sixt)' feet high. 
 Rising from one of the rocky ridgu-s, it reached upwards 
 and outwards till tht; outermost point seemed to overhang 
 a bottomless abyss, perhaps twenty or twenty-five feet 
 beyond the verge of the jj .ecipicc-. 
 
 The ridge just below the summit is a scene of wild 
 confusion, for the ''((cky ledges have b('en split up and 
 wtdged apart b\- frost antl storms till they appear as giant 
 blocks of stone ten or fifteen feet high, between tht; crevi- 
 cc;s of which one may catch glimpses of the valley and 
 forests thousands of f ct below. 
 
 The view from the summit of Eagle Peak is magnifi- 
 cent and well worth the labor of the climb. The prox- 
 imity of Mount Sir Donald, which towers more than 1200 
 feet high' •, causes its sullen precipices to appear strikingly 
 grand. The great lllicellewaet ni'vc, with its twenty square 
 
Mount Sir Donald, from Eagle Peak. 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 » 
 
 » 
 
 I 
 
 P' 
 
a ■ 
 
 i 
 
 ■■ 
 
'I 
 
 i^ 
 
 ( 
 
 V 
 
 ' I 
 
,0- 
 
 If 
 
 I! 
 
 % \ 
 
 I 
 
 P Ih 
 
A Magnificent Panorama. 
 
 miles or more of unbroken snow fiolds, stretches out in the 
 distance and forms part of the eastern horizon. Thi.' 
 ru|L,f,t,'-ed appearance of the Hermit Rang-s to the west, witii 
 its sharj) ridijes and needles, is perhaps the most tumultu- 
 ous part in all this wild sea of mountain peaks. It has 
 been stated on good authority that from Mount Abbott, a 
 far lower ridge on the farther side of the valley, more than 
 one hundred and twenty individual glaciers may be counted, 
 but there are even more within view from Kagle Peak. 
 
 W(; remained on the summit till nearly three o'clock, 
 and thereby took a great risk, as we learnetl afterwards to 
 our exceeding regret. Before leaving, however, we built 
 a hiirh cairn and fi.xed several handkerchiefs amontr the 
 stones so as to render it, if possible, visible from the valley 
 below. 
 
 In our descent we fountl no trouble till we reached tree 
 line, when the gathering gloom of nightfall, made earlier 
 by a cloudy sky, aroused our apprehensions and led us to 
 a serious mistake. Thinking that it would be better to 
 follow the course of a stream, which had cut out a deep 
 ravine in the mountain side, as there would be more light, 
 for a time at least, we commenced our descent with all speed. 
 We soon found ourselves in a trap, as the sides of the ravine 
 grew constantly deeper and steeper as we descended, and 
 it was at length impossible to get out at all. Floundering 
 about among the long trailing branches of alders, our ile- 
 scent soon became a mixture of sliding, falling, and, indeed, 
 every method of progress save; rational walking. Tlie 
 darkness came on rapidly, as the days were short and the 
 
 f 
 
128 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 twilight much curtailed, it bciiiL,^ hitt; in the .summer. In 
 an iiour it became so absohitely bhick that the; foamy 
 course of the stream we followed was tlie only visible 
 object, as even tiie stars were concealed ami their lij^ht 
 shut out l)y a heavy coverin^,^ of dark cloud. Sometimes 
 the lonj^, prostrate branches of thr; aldtTs would catch our 
 feet in a most e.^asperaiinLj manner, anil cause one or the 
 other to slide; temporarily head-foremost, till some branch 
 or root could be s(;i/((.l in the hand and the i)roL(ress 
 arrested. Once I saw a white object, just below me ap- 
 parently, and thinkinj;' it mi_L,dU be a stone, was about to 
 lower myself in fancied security when suddenly I realized 
 that it was the foam of the stream some fifty feet below, 
 and that we were on the edtje of a precipice ! At another 
 time I f(;ll headlonL,^ throu_t,di a bush and brought up against 
 some threat obstacle around which I wound my les;", not 
 knowing wheth(;r it mi>;ht be a hui^^e jrrizzly or some other 
 denizen of the forest, when sure enough it moved away, 
 and rolled over my leg. It was a great boulder nearly a 
 yard in diameter. 
 
 This nocturnal d(;scent was tht; most bitter experience 
 I have ever had in mountain climbing, as the anxiety and 
 worry conseciuent iijjon each movement were exquisitely 
 painful, and continued three hours. Arri\'ed at the bot- 
 tom of the slope at ten o'clock p.m., we found ourselves in 
 the mass of fallen logs and tlebris near the stream, and 
 likewise near the trail. Umler the spell of a certain as- 
 surance that a few minutes more of toil would bring us 
 out to the trail, we thought nothing of falling into holes 
 
 I 
 
 1 
 
A Terrible lixpcriciicc. 
 
 I 29 
 
 four or five feet deep, as we pliinj^fed about amonj^ the lo<js, 
 or, \vh(;n walkiiiL;" on them, occasionally stepfx.'d off into 
 space. 
 
 W^e arrived at tin; Glacier House at 10:30 r. m., when; 
 we were surrounded by anxious friends, and rej^r.ded !))■ a 
 hot dinner of roasted chickens and all manner of tjood 
 thini^^s, such as one always finds at this most excellent 
 inn. At such times, more than at any other, one ap- 
 preciates the thouLjhtfulness anel care of a kind host. 
 
 Our experience; on l-laiL^de I'eak, tryinj^" as it was, could 
 not equal that of two jj^entlemeii who, in 1S94, made an 
 attempt to scale the mountain. Unfortunalely they faileil 
 to reach the summit, and, wors(; still, wen; benighted 
 among the crags and cHffs at a high altitude, where 
 they spent the night in misery. Finding themselves in 
 their attempt unabh; to advance farther for some reason 
 or other, they were desc(;nding, when it suddenly occurred 
 to them that they were on a different ledge from any they 
 had seen hitherto. Nightfall was bringing raj)idly increas- 
 ing darkness, and it seemed impossibU;, at length, either 
 to proceed farther or even to r(;trace the steps by which 
 they hatl come. Here, tlu;n, on a narrow ledge overlook- 
 ing a precipice, the awful de[)ths of which were rendered 
 still more terrible in the obscurity of gathering gloom, and 
 with their feet dangling over the verge, they were forced 
 to remain motionless, and wear out the long night in cold 
 and sleepless suffering. The next morning a searcli party 
 was organized, and they were conducted back to the com- 
 forts of the Glicier House, much to the relief of their 
 
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 anxious friends, but nearly prostrated by their terrible 
 experience. 
 
 Later, we made an ascent of Mount Cheops, a strikinjj^ 
 peak with a most perfect representation of a pyramid 
 forming its summit. The view is fine but not worth the 
 labor of the climb, as the ascent of the lower slopes seems 
 interminably long and tedious by reason of the underbrush 
 and steep slope. Like Eagle i'eak, the summit revealed 
 no evidence of previous conquests, and it wMl probably be 
 a long time before any one will be so far led astray as to 
 make a similar attempt. 
 
 Trails and good foot-paths lead from the Glacier House 
 to points of interest in the vicinity. The chief resort is 
 the Great Glacier itself, where one may witness all the 
 phenomena of a large ice stream, or ascend to the vast 
 jicvi', and wander about on a nearly level, and apparently 
 limitless, snow field. 
 
 Mount Abbott is an easy and favorite climb, and is 
 often successfully attempted by women who are endowed 
 with considerable strength and endurance. On the way, 
 a small pool, called Marion Lake, is passed. It nestles 
 among the cliffs and forests on the mountain side far 
 above the valley. It is the only lake I know of in the 
 Selkirks. This is one of the remarkable differences be- 
 tween the Selkirks and the Summit Range of the Rockies : 
 the absence of lakes in one region, and their great number 
 in the other. The great majority of lakes in the Rockies 
 are very small and often do not deserve the name, as they 
 are mere pools a few yards across. But their small size in 
 
Future of the Sclkirks. 
 
 »3i 
 
 no way detracts from their beauty, and it is most imfortu- 
 nate that the Sclkirks possess so few of these, the most 
 charmins; of all features in mountain landscapes. 
 
 The Selkirks arc hut little known, because the dense 
 forests and the immense size of the fallen loirs forbid the 
 use of horses almost altoocther, and will evir prc\ cut the 
 mcmntaineer from makint; extended journeys into the h sser 
 known parts of the mountains, unless trails are cut and kcjjt 
 in i^ood order. At present all provisions, blankets, and 
 tents must be packed on men's backs, a method that is 
 both laborious and expensive. 
 
 It must eventually result, however, that these moun- 
 tains will prove a most popular resort for climbers and 
 sportsmen. The attractions for either class are verv '-^reat. 
 I'^or the mountaineer, they present all the grandeur and 
 beauty of the Swiss Alps, with difificulties of snow and 
 rock climbing sufficient to add zest to the sport. The 
 multitude of unclimbed peaks likewise offers great oppor- 
 tunities for those ambitious for new conquests. The 
 immense annual snowfall causes many of the higher peaks 
 to assume an appearance of dazzling beauty and brillianc), 
 while the Alpine splendor of these higher altitudes is 
 strongly contrasted with the dark-green color of the 
 forested valleys. 
 
 For the sportsmen, too, there are abundant opportuni- 
 ties to hunt the larger game. On the mountains are 
 numerous herds of mountain goats and sheep, while the 
 forests abound in bears— the black bear and the grizzly or 
 silver tip. During the berry season, these animals frequent 
 
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 i32 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 the valleys and are often seen by the railroad men even 
 near the Glacier House, One wntleman had the «rood 
 fortune; to shoot a black bear from a window of the hotel 
 last year. Of course, there is practically no danger from 
 even tlie griz/Jy bear in this immediate vicinity, as they 
 have learned to fear man from being frequently shot at, 
 and have long since lost the ferocity which they sometimes 
 show in extremely wild and unfrequented regions. 
 
 No mention has yet been made of the kind of trees to 
 be found in a .Selkirk forest. Almost all the varieties of 
 coniferous trees observed in the Rockies, except the 
 Lyall's larch, occur in the .Selkirks, though each variety 
 attains much largtT size. The cedar, the hemlock, the 
 Douglas fir, and the Engelmann's spruce are most conspic- 
 uous and form the chief part of the forest trees. luich of 
 these sp(;cies here attains a diameter of from three feet 
 upward, even to six or seven, and a height of from 150 
 to 200 feet. 
 
 Nothmg is more enjoyable than to take one of the 
 mountain trails ami enter the depths of the forest, there to 
 rest in quiet contemplation where trees alone are visible 
 in the limited circle of view. On a quiet afternoon, when 
 all is calm and not a breath of air is stirring, the long, 
 gray moss hangs in pendent tufts from the lower branches 
 of the giant trees, and one feels that this is indeed another 
 Acadian forest of which Longfellow sings : 
 
 " This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks, 
 Bearded with moss and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight. 
 
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 The Forest Primeval. 
 
 •33 
 
 Stand like Dniidsof M, witli voices sad and proplietic,— 
 Stand like harpers hoar, with htards that rest on their bosoms." 
 
 Such indeed is a Selkirk forest. 
 
 The idea that is at len^rth developed In the niind, by a 
 loiii; rest in one of these deep and sombre forests, is that 
 of the majesty, and silent, motionless power of vej^etation. 
 The creations of the vej^^etable world stand on all sides. 
 They \vellnijL,di cover the jrround ; they limit the horizon, 
 and conceal the sky. The tall cedars have a shreddy bark 
 that han(,^s in lonj^^ strips on their tapering boles and makes 
 the stron<rest contrast with the rough bark of the firs. What 
 could be more unlike, too, among evergreens, than the 
 spreading fanlike foliage of the cedars, the needle-like 
 leaves of the firs, and the delicate spray of the hemlocks? 
 
 What a vast amount of energy has been preserved in 
 these forest giants ; with what a crash they would fall to 
 the ground ; and what a quantity of heat — which they have 
 stored up from the sun through hundreds of summers — 
 would they give out when burned slowly in a fireplace ! 
 If we examine a single needle, or a thin shaving of wood, 
 under the microscope, and obtain a glimpse of the com- 
 plexity of the cells and pores with which this vegetable 
 life is carried on ; or consider the wonderful processes by 
 which the flowers are fertilized, and the cones mature, so 
 that the species may never die out ; and then regard the 
 immensity of the whole forest stretching boundless in 
 every direction, all constructed from an infinity of atoms, 
 the mind and imagination are soon led beyond their 
 depth. 
 
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 134 
 
 Tlic Canadian Rockies. 
 
 Now let the pure, cold lis^lit of scienct , with its precise 
 and I'x.ict hiws. fade away into the wariii. mellow il^Iow of 
 romance, till we picture tht; forest as an e|)itome of human 
 life, with its stru,L;|,des, its sufft^rin^, and the slow but cer- 
 tain progress from infancy to old ajj[e and death. I'"or 
 here, amonj^ the forest trees, are every age and condition 
 represented Heneath, are young trees, vigorous and full 
 of promise, hoping, as it were, some ilay t(^ push their 
 highest branches abovi' the general plane of tree to|)s and 
 share the life-giving sun, though, during the struggle, 
 many will surely weaken and dit; in the jjale and inefficient 
 light beneath the older trees. Then there are the larger 
 tnM.'s in t\\r full glory of tiieir prime, with massive trunks, 
 straight and tall, giving promise of many years of life 
 yet to come ; ami t'malh', the giants of the forest, their 
 branches torn off by storms or their trunks rent and 
 scarred by lightning. Hverything about the oldest trees 
 betokens the slow decay ami all-concpiering death, which 
 is gradually sapping their life blood and pointing to their 
 certain, fmal destruction. The long, gray moss, gently 
 waving in the faintest breath of air, hangs from every 
 limb, and makes these venerable monarchs resemble 
 bearded patriarchs, which have stooil here perhaps a 
 thousand years battling with the elements, the wiml. and 
 the lightning, silent witnesses to the relentless progress of 
 the seasons. 
 
 Trees have, however, all the (jualifications of living 
 forever. There is no reason why a tree shoulil ever die, 
 were it not for some unnatural cause, such as the fury of 
 
 
Ai^c of 'rrccs. 
 
 135 
 
 a storm, the rcndins^^ power of lij^luniiij^f, or the destructive 
 inriuencc of insects and parasites. In Cahfornia. In the 
 Mariposa drove, some of the ^iant reihvood treiis are 
 twenty-tive himdreil years okl. I'hey hey^an to ,i;ro\v 
 wlien Solon was makini^f laws for the ancient d reeks, 
 'liiese wonderful jifroves of California are, howevi:r. ex- 
 ceptional, and have survived by reason of the clemenc\- of 
 the climate ami the fact that the aroniatic redwood is 
 avoided by insects. In most forests, the laws of chance 
 and [)robability rarely allow the sturdiest trees to run the 
 tjamut of more than a few hundred years, and if they 
 attain a thousand years, it is their " fourscore — by reason 
 of strenjTth." 
 
 In the Selkirks, one sees the ground covered with huge 
 tree trunks in all sta^^es of decay, slowly molderini^ away 
 into a newer and richer soil ; some have yielded to the 
 natural processes of decaj', others to accident or forest 
 fires, while in some places winter avalanches ha\e cut off 
 the tops of the trees fort)- or fifty feet above the ground, 
 and left nothing but a maze of tall stumps where once 
 stood a noble forest. 
 
 The Selkirk forests are dense and sometimes almost 
 magnificent in their luxuriance, and vastly surpass the 
 forests of the eastern range in the variety of species, the 
 size of the trees, and the luxuriant rankness of vcL^etable 
 growth. At the same time they do not approach the 
 almost tropical vigor and grandeur of the Pacific Coast 
 forests, where a green carpet of moss covers the trunks 
 and branches of the huge trees, and even ferns find 
 
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 The (anacliaii Rockies. 
 
 T 
 
 nourishmciU in this rich covcrinj^. alch-cl hy thi' rcckinjj^, 
 humid atmosplu'rc, on hranchcs forty or tifty firt al)0\c 
 the i^rroiiiul. In such a forrst. tlu' ferns and brakes reach 
 a heij^ht of six or eiulu feet al>ovf the j^round, the various 
 mosses attain a remark. ihle tlevelopment, and hanj^f in 
 \on^, green tresses, a yard in lenj^^th, from e\i'ry branch, 
 and exaijj^aTate tht; size of tl)e smaUer branches, while the 
 beautiful tufts of the llypnum mosses appear like the 
 fronds of small ferns, so larj;(; do they become. 
 
 The forests of the Summit Ranjj^e, the Selkirks, and the 
 Pacific Coast are almost perfect indexes of the humidity 
 of the climate. The .Selkirk forests are less vigorous 
 than those of the I'.icil'ic coast, but more so than the light 
 antl comparatively o[)en forests of the Summit Range, 
 where the climati; is much drier. 
 
 I \ 
 
I 
 
 CHAPTI'R IX. 
 
 Mount Assiii/'Mne ~ PnfiiiiUions /or I'hi/inx' it— Camp at /feeiy's 
 Creek— Crossi II); t/ic Simpson /'<tss — S/ioot a Pitck/forsi—A AV/v ////>// 
 Camp— A Difuiilt Sumo /\rss—/hii nt Timber— Xatiire SouHiis— Dis- 
 covery of a licaiitifiil Lake — ///.»/ ■ '/!,■• / '/>?.' of ^ fount Assinihoinc — 
 Our Camp at the Hase of the Afountain — Summer Snou^-Storms — /nae- 
 cessi/ii/ity of Afount Assiniboine 
 
 GKF'^AT interest was .iroused amoni,^ tourists in 
 the suminfT of 1S95, Iiy the rcjjorts of a rc- 
 mari<abl<! peak south of lianff named Mount 
 Assiniboine. Accordinj; to current accounts, it was the 
 hij;hest mountain so far discovered between the Interna- 
 tional boundary and the rey^ion of Mounts Brown and 
 Hooker. Besiilcs its ^^reat altitude, it was said to he ex- 
 ceedinirly steep on all sides, and surrounded by charm- 
 ing valleys dotted with beautiful lakes. Ww time recpiircd 
 to reach the mountain with a camping outfit and pack- 
 horses was said to be from five to seven davs. 
 
 The romance of visiting this wild and interesting region, 
 hitherto but little explored, decided me to use one month 
 of the summer season in this manner. By oreat (""ood for- 
 tune I met, at Banff, two gentlemen likewise bent on visit- 
 ing the same region, and on comparing our prospective 
 plans, it appeared that mutual advantage would be gained 
 
 J37 
 
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 138 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 by joining our forces. In this way we would have the 
 pleasure of a larger company, and at the same time 
 the oppoitunity of separating, should we come to a 
 disagreement. 
 
 The sixth of July was decided on as the date for our 
 departu/e. In the meantime, we made frequent visits to 
 the log-house of our outfitter, Tom Wilson, who was to 
 supply us with horses, our entire camping outfit, and 
 guides. Many year*-- previously, Wilson had packed for 
 the early railroad surveyors, and had thus gained a valu- 
 able experience in all that concerns the management and 
 care of pack-animals among the difficulties of mountain 
 trails. In the past few years, he has been engaged in 
 supplying tourists with camping outfits and guides, for 
 excursions among the mountains. 
 
 TIk; season of 1895 was very backward, and there was 
 an unusually late fall of snow at Banff, in the middle of 
 June. Moreover, the weather hail remained so cold that 
 the snow on the higher passes still remained very deep, 
 and several bands of Indians, who attempted to cross the 
 mountains with their iiorses late in June, were repulsed by 
 snow six or eight feet deep. 
 
 The weather continued cold and changeable during the 
 first week in July. In the meanwhile, however, our prep- 
 arations for d(;parture went on without interruption, and 
 Wilson's log-house, where the supplies and camp outfits 
 were safely stored, became a scene of busy preparation. 
 
 On every side were to be seen the various necessaries 
 of camp life : saddles for the horses, piles of blankets, 
 
 } 
 I 
 
 ? i 
 
 I 
 
Preparation for Departure. 
 
 '39 
 
 here aiul there ropes, tents, and hobbles. Great heaps of 
 provisions were Hkewise piled up in apparent confusion, 
 thouj^h, in reality, every item was portioned out and care- 
 fully calculatetl. Rashers of bacon and bags of flour 
 comprised the main bulk of the provisions, but there wen-, 
 besides, the luxuries ot tea, coffee, and sugar, in addition 
 to large quantities of hard tack, dried fruits and raisins, 
 oatmeal, and cans of condensed milk. Pots and pails, 
 knives, forks, and spoons, and the necessary cooking 
 utensils were collected in other places. Our men were 
 already engaged for the trip, and were now busily moving 
 about, seeing tliat everything was in order, the saddle 
 girths, hobbles, and ropes in good condition, the axes 
 sharp, and the ritles bright and clean. 
 
 At length the sixth of July came, but proved showery 
 and wet like many preceding days. Nevertheless, our 
 men started in the morning for the first camp, which was 
 to be at Heely's Creek, about six miles from Banff. Our 
 prospective route to Mount Assiniboine was, first, over 
 the Simpson Pass to the Simpson River, and thence, by 
 some rather uncertain passes, eastward, toward the region 
 of the mountain. 
 
 Toward the middle of the afternoon we started on foot 
 for Heely's Creek, where our men were to meet us and 
 have the camp prepared. Passing northward up the val- 
 ley, we followed the road by the famous Cave and Basin, 
 where the hot sulphur water bubbles up among the lime- 
 stone formations which they have deposited round their 
 borders. The Cave appears to be the cone or crater of 
 
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 ''1' 
 
 1 
 
 ! i 
 
I40 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 some extinct geyser, and now a passage-way has been cut 
 under one wall, so that bathers may enjoy hot baths in 
 this cavern. A single opening in the roof admits the 
 light. 
 
 A short time after leaving these interesting places, we 
 had to branch off from the road, and plunge into a burnt 
 forest, where there was supposed to be a trail. The trail 
 soon faded away into obscurity among the maze of logs, 
 and, worse, still, it now came on to rain gently but con- 
 stantly. After an hour or more of hard work we came to 
 Heely's Creek. 
 
 The camp was on the farther side of the creek, and, 
 after shouting several times, Peyto, our chief packer, 
 
 came dash- 
 ing vlown on 
 horseback, 
 and convey- 
 ed us, one 
 at a time, 
 across the 
 deep, swift 
 stream. 
 Peyto made 
 an ideal pic- 
 ture of the 
 wild west, 
 mounted as 
 he was on 
 an Indian 
 
 PEYTO. 
 
Camp at Heely's Creek. 
 
 141 
 
 steed, with Mexican stirrups. A great sombrero hat pushed 
 to one side, a buckskin shirt ornate with Indian fringes on 
 sleeves and seams, and cartridge belt holding a hunting 
 knife and a six-shooter, recalled the romantic days of old 
 when this was the costume throughout the entire west. 
 
 Our encampment consisted of three tents, prettily 
 grouped among some large spruce trees. A log fire was 
 burning before each tent, and, on our arrival, fhe cooks 
 began to prepare our supper. This was ni)- first night 
 in a tent for a year, and the conditions were unfavor- 
 able for comfort, as we were all soaked through by 
 our long tramp in the bush, and, moreover, it was still 
 raining. Nevertheless, we were all contented and happy, 
 our clothes soon dried before the camp fires, and after 
 supper we sang a few popular songs, then rollcxl up in 
 warm blankets on beds of balsam boughs, and slept peace- 
 fully till morning. 
 
 I was awakened at dawn by the cry of " Breakfast is 
 ready," and prepared forthwith to do it ju.itice. The day 
 appeared cloudy but not very threatening. 1 n an hour the 
 packers began their work, and it was wonderful to observe 
 the system and rapidity of their movements. The horses, 
 of which we had sc\en as pack-animals and two for 
 the saddle, were caught and led to the camp, where they 
 were tied to trees near by. All the provisions, tents, cook 
 boxes, bags, and camp paraphernalia w(;re then made 
 ready for packing. There are three prime requisites in 
 skilful packing. 'J'hey are: the proper adjustment of 
 the blanket and saddle so that it will neither chafe the 
 
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 142 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 back of the horse nor sh'p while on the march; the exact 
 balancing of the two packs ; and the knowledge of the 
 
 " d i a ni o n d 
 hitch." The 
 w o n tl e r f 11 1 
 combination 
 of turns and 
 loops which 
 go to make up 
 the diamond 
 hitch has al- 
 ways been sur- 
 rounded with 
 a certain sec- 
 recy, and jeal- 
 ously guarded 
 
 by those initiated into the mysteries of its formation. It 
 was formerly so essential a part of the education of a 
 Westerner that as much as one hundred dollars have been 
 paid for the privilege of learning it. Without going into 
 details, it may be described as a certain manner of placing 
 the ropes round the packs, which, once learned, is exceed- 
 ingly simple to tie on or take off. and it will hold the pack in 
 place under the most trying circumstances. The name is 
 derived from a diamond-shaped figure formed by the ropes 
 between the packs. 
 
 By eight o'clock our procession of ten horses was on 
 the march, and, after passing through a meadow where 
 every blade of grass was hung with pendent drops of 
 
 PACKING THE BUCKSKIN. 
 
 4 
 
On the March. 
 
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 mingled rain and dew, now sparkling bright in the morn- 
 ing sun, we came to the trail. Our winding cavalcade 
 followed near the creek and gradually rose above its 
 roaring waters, which dashed madly over many a cascade 
 and waterfall in its rocky course. Our pathway rose con- 
 stantly and led us through rich forests. 
 
 Peyto led the procession mounted on an Indian horse 
 called Chiniquy, not a very noble-looking beast, but a 
 veteran on the trail, and, by reason of his long legs, a 
 most trustworthy animal in crossing deep rivers. Then 
 followed the pack-horses with the men int(;r- 
 spersed to take care of them, and the rear 
 was brought up by our second packer, like- 
 wise on horseback. The greater part of 
 the time, the gentlemen of the expedition 
 kept in the rear. 
 
 The flowers were in all the glory of their 
 spring-time luxuriance, and we discovered 
 new varieties in every meadow, swamp, and 
 grove. Beside the several varieties of ane- 
 mones, the yellow columbines, violets, and 
 countless other herbaceous plants, we found, 
 during the march of this day, six kinds of 
 orchids. Among them was the small and 
 beautiful, purple Calypso, which we found 
 in bogs and damp woods, rearing its showy 
 blossom a few inches above the ground. 
 At the base is a single heart-shaped leaf. We were very 
 much pleased to find this elegant and rare orchid growing 
 
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 CALYPSO. 
 
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 •44 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 so abundantly here. There is a certain reij^al nobihty and 
 elej^ance pertaining to the whole family of orchids, which 
 elevates them above all plants, and places them nearest 
 to animate creation. Whether we find them in high 
 northern latitudes, in cold bogs, or in dark forests, re- 
 treating far from the haunts of men, avoiding even their 
 own kind, solitary and unseen ; or perhaps crowded on the 
 branches of trees in a tropical forest, guarded from man by 
 venomous serpents, the stealthy jaguar, stinging insects 
 and a fever-laden air; they command the greatest interest 
 of the botanist and the highest prices of the connoisseur. 
 
 We camped at about two o'clock, not far from the 
 summit of the Simpson Pass, in a valley guarded on both 
 sides by continuous mountains of great height. 
 
 We were surprised the next day, on reaching the sum- 
 mit, to find the pass covered with snow, heaped in great 
 drifts, ten or twenty feet deep, among the trees. The 
 Simpson Pass is only 6884 feet above tide, and, conse- 
 quently, is below the tree line. Near the summit were two 
 small ponds still frozen over. A warm sun and a genial 
 south wind were, however, rapidly dissolving the snow 
 and reducing it to slush, while clear streams of water were 
 running in the meadows everywhere, regardless of regular 
 channels. 
 
 As we began our descent on the south side, a great 
 change came over the scene. Two hundred feet of descent 
 brought us from this snowy landscape to warm mountain 
 slopes, where the grass was almost concealed by reason of 
 myriads of yellow lilies in full blossom, mingled with 
 
 !| ] 
 
 ■ ,■« 
 
The Simpson River. 
 
 ^45 
 
 white anemones. These banks of flowers, resemblin^r the 
 artificial creations of a hol-house. were sometimes sur- 
 rounded on all sides by lincreriiii,^ patches of snow. Such 
 constant and sudden change is characteristic of moun- 
 tain climates, where a few warm days suffice to melt 
 the snow and coax forth the flowers with surprisintJ- 
 rapidity. 
 
 The trail now descended rapidly, and led us through 
 forests much denser and more luxuriant than those on the 
 other side of the pass. Everything betokened a moister 
 climate, and the character of the vegetation had changed 
 so much that many new kinds of plants appeared, while 
 those with which we were familiar grew ranker and laro-er. 
 We had crossed the continental divide, from Alberta into 
 British Columbia. 
 
 Early in the afternoon we came to our camping place 
 on the banks of the Simpson River, where a great number 
 of teepee poles proved this to be a favorite resort amoncT 
 
 o 
 
 the Indians. On all sides, the mountains were heavily 
 forested to a great height, and, far above, gray limestone 
 cliffs rose in bare precipices nearly free of snow. 
 
 On July the ninth, we made the longest and most ardu- 
 ous march so far taken. Our route, at first, lay down the 
 Simpson River for several miles. While the horses and 
 men followed the river bed almost constantly, making 
 frequent crossings to avail themselves of better walking 
 and short cuts, the rest of us necessarily remained on one 
 bank, and were compelled to make rapid progress to keep 
 up with our heavily laden horses. 
 
 m 
 
 \ ■ 
 
 ip S 
 
 I'i 
 
 ( 
 
 Ml 
 
 !•! 
 
 I ,-:« 
 
 lO 
 
WW 
 
 t 
 
 I, . . r 
 
 »l 
 
 I 
 
 '■i 
 
 li; 
 
 146 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 After we had proceedi-d down the wiiulinj^ banks of 
 the Simpson River for about two hours, our pass, a mere 
 notch in the mountains, was descried by Mr. B., who had 
 visited this region two years before in company with 
 Wilson. The pass lay to the east, and it was necessary 
 for every one to cross the river, which was here a very 
 swift stream nearly a yard in depth. We all got across in 
 safety, but had not advanced into tht; forest on the farther 
 side more than fifty yartls, when one of my pack-horses 
 fell, by reason of the rough ground, and broke a leg. It 
 required but a few minutes to unpack the poor beast and 
 end his career with a rifle bullet. The packs were then 
 placed on old Chiniquy, the faithful beast hitherto used 
 by Peyto as a saddle-horse. 
 
 In less than fifteen minutes we were ready to proceed 
 again. The trail now led us up very steep ascents on a 
 forest-clad mountain slope for several hours. After this 
 we entered a gap in the mountains and followed a stream 
 for many miles, and at length pitched our camp late in the 
 afternoon, after having been on the march for nine hours. 
 
 Every one was rejoiced at the prospect of a rest and 
 something to eat. Even the horses, so soon as their 
 packs and saddles were removed, showed their pleasure 
 by rolling on the ground before hastening off to a meadow 
 near by. Axes were busy cutting tent poles and fire- 
 wood. Soon the three tents were placed in position, and 
 fires were burning brightly before each, while the cooks 
 prepared dinner. 
 
 This place was most delightful. The immediate 
 
!l 
 
 A l)clisj;^htful Camp. 
 
 '47 
 
 {Tround was quite level and grassy. Near by was a clear 
 deep stream with a i^entle, nearly iniperce|)tihle current, 
 which afforded a fine place for a cold plunge. The moun- 
 tains hemmed in a valley of moderate width and presented 
 a continuous barrier on either side for many miles. The 
 general character of the scenery was like that of the 
 Sierra Xevadas, with hi^jh cliffs partly adorned with trees 
 and shrubs, down which countless waterfalls fell from 
 heijrhts so j^reat, that they resembled threads of silver, 
 wavini,r from side to side in the chansrinij currents of air. 
 On tlie mountain side south of our camp, there stood a 
 remarkable castle or fortress of rock, where nature had 
 api)arently indulged her fancy in copying the works of 
 men. .So perfect was the representation, that no aid from 
 the imagination was required to see ramparts, embrasure.s, 
 and turreted fortifications of a castle, in the remarkable 
 pinnacles and clefts cut out by nature from the horizontal 
 strata. The next morning, every one was more or less 
 inspired with a pleasing anticipation and excitement, as, 
 according to reports, we had not far to go before we 
 should get our first view of Mount Assiniboine. At the 
 end of our valley was a pass, from the summit of which 
 Mount Assiniboine could be seen. The trail led us 
 through a forest with but little underbrush, and presently 
 a beautiful lake burst on our view. Two of us, being 
 somewhat in advance of the pack train, caught a dozen 
 fine trout here in a very short time, and were only inter- 
 rupted by the arrival of the horses and men. The fish 
 were so numerous thai they could be seen everywhere on 
 
 lii: . 
 
 r- 
 
 f 
 

 m 
 
 148 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 the hcntoin, ami at the appearance of our artificial (lies 
 on the wati'r, several fish would rise; at once. 
 
 In half an hour, the summit of our pass appeareil over 
 the tree tops, and rose, apparently, 500 feet hij^her. The 
 state of the |)ass\vas, however such as to cool our enthusi- 
 asm deciiledly. It was completely coveri-d with snow to 
 a jrreat depth, which made it seem probable that we would 
 not succeed in sj^ettins^ the horses over. As this could not 
 be proved from our position. W(! pushed on, determined 
 to ov(,'rc< line all difficulties. The snow ijt.'^an to appc;ar, 
 at first, in small patches in shady places amonjj; the forest 
 trees, then in lartje drifts antl finally, everywhere except 
 on the most (.;xposed slopes. The trail had been lost for 
 some time, buried deep in the snow. Our proj^^ress was 
 not difficult, however, as the forest had assumed the 
 thin and open nature characti-ristic of hi.ujh altitudes, and 
 it was possii)le to proci^ed in any direction. Our horses 
 strutftded on bravely, and by dint of placinj^ all the men 
 in front and breaking down a pathway, we manaijed to 
 effect passa'j^es over loni,^ strtjtches where the snow was 
 five or six feet deep. After the tree line had been 
 reached, we w(.;re more fortunate, as a lons^ narrow 
 stretch, free; of snow led ([uite to the top of the pass, 
 throui^h the otherwise unbroken snow fields. A threat 
 cornict; of snow appeared on our rijj^ht near the top of the 
 pass and showed a ilepth of more than forty feet. 
 
 Near the top of the pass the travelling; was much 
 easier, ami in a few minutes w(; were looking" over the 
 summit across a wide valley to a range of rough moun- 
 
 'i i! 
 
A Difticiilt Show Pass. 
 
 149 
 
 
 ••^^^ 
 
 tains hun^ with jjaiicrs. Mc'vond ihcin. and ri^in- far 
 al)()vc, coulil be: sL'L-n thi; sharp crest of Mount Assinil)oinc, 
 faintly out- 
 lined aij^ainst 
 the sky in a 
 smoky atmos- 
 phere The 
 i n ter\-eninj^f 
 wide valley 
 revealed a 
 jj^reat expanse 
 of burnt for- 
 e s t. T h e 
 
 dreary waste 
 of burnt tim- 
 ber was only 
 relieved by 
 two lakes, 
 several miles 
 distant, rest- 
 iuLj in a notch 
 anion^- the 
 m o u n t ains. 
 The; nearer 
 was about a 
 mile in length, 
 while slit^htly 
 beyond, and 
 at a higher elevation, was the second, a mere pool 
 
 m^ 
 
 
 APPROACHING THE PASS. 
 
 •i ' h 
 
 !>' 
 
 )j 
 
 ' i ■ 
 
 ii,;? J, 
 
m 
 
 '50 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 I 
 
 
 of (lark blue water, resting against tin: moraine of a 
 glacier. 
 
 in the valley, a meadow near a large stream seemed 
 to offer the hest chances for a camp, in an hour we 
 reached this spot after a hard descent. Some of our 
 horses displayed great sagacity in selecting the safest and 
 easiest passages hetwiien and arouml the logs, and gave 
 evidence of their previous experience in this kind of work. 
 
 In oriler to rest the men and horses, after the arduous 
 marches of the past forty-eight hours, we decided to re- 
 main an entire day at this place. We were also an.xious 
 to explore the two lakes, as they seemetl to offer fair 
 promise of beautiful scenery and interesting geological 
 formation. Our camp was surrounded on all sides by 
 burnt forests and charred logs, and so offered but little of 
 the picturescpie. A partial compensation was enjo\ed. 
 however, by reason of the great variety and numi - • 
 song birds which were now nesting in a small swamp near 
 by. This bog was clothed in a rich covering of grass, and 
 here our horses revelled in the abundance of feed, while 
 some small l)ushes scattered here and there afforded shelter 
 and homes for several species of birds. All day long and 
 even far into the night we were entertained by their melo. 
 dies. The most persistent singer of all was the white- 
 crested sparrow, whose sweet little air of six notes was 
 repeated every half minute throughout the entire day, be- 
 ginning with the first traces of dawn. Perhaps our atten- 
 tion was more attracted to the sounds about us because 
 there was so little to interest the eye in this place. Smoke 
 
 
Nature Sonnets. 
 
 '5' 
 
 from distant forest firi:.s ohsciirct! whatever tlu-rc was in 
 the way of mountain scentTy, while the waste of l)urnt 
 timber was most unattractive, A warm, soft wiml hlew 
 constantly u\) the valley and made dull inoaninj^s aiul 
 weird sounds amonj,' the dead trees, where strips of ilricd 
 bark or splinters of wood vibrated in the brec^ze. The 
 rushini^ stream, fifty yards from our camp, j^avt; out a con- 
 stant roar, now louder, now softer, accordinj^ as the wind 
 chan^'ed direction and carried the sound towards or awa) 
 from us. The thunders of occasional avalanches, the loutl 
 reports of stones fallinj^^ on the mountain sides, were 
 minijled with the varied sounds of thi; wind, the rustlinjj^ 
 of the ,tjrass, the moanini^i^ trec-s, and the soul^s of birds. 
 These were all pure nature sounds, most (Mijoyabic- and 
 elcvatinnr. Thoujrh but partially appreciatixl at the time, 
 such experiences lin^(!r in the memory and help make up 
 the complex associations of pleasun.'s whereby one is led 
 to return ajjain and ajj;ain to the mountains, the forests, 
 and the wilderness. 
 
 Our time, which was set aside for this region, now 
 beinjr consumed, we started on July the twelfth for the 
 valley at the base of Mount Assiniboine, where it was 
 probable that we should camp for a period of two weeks 
 or more. Our route lay toward the end of the valley and 
 thence around a projectin<^ spur of the mountain which cut 
 off our view. In about two hours our hors(;s were 
 struggling up the last steep slope near the summit of the 
 divide. I had delayed for a photograph of a small lake, 
 so the horses and men were ahead. When at leuijth I 
 
 If 
 
 Hi. IS 
 
 
 fi 
 
 ( 
 
'' 
 
 I « 
 
 '5: 
 
 riu' ( .m.uliaii Kockics. 
 
 s;;iiiicil the top I foiiiul th.il ,\ inisphucti pack had caused 
 ilclav. and so I om ridok the ciiliri' parly on tlu- Ixudcrs ol 
 .1 most hcaiililnl slid i dl walci'. 1 he Iranslorniation was 
 ncarlv iiisiantancoiis. llic liurnt tiinhcr was idnipl<'tfly 
 shut out Iron) view l)\ the low ridj^c we had just passed 
 «)ver, anil we entered ouce more a n';_;ion ol L;i'e<'n forests. 
 TIk' lake was \'>n\j^ .\\)[\ narrow ; on the larlher side, 
 hemmed in l)\ rock slides and clills ol the mountains, hut 
 on the west side .1 trail led alon;^ the windilli; shore amoiie 
 lari'h and spruce tri'<s. In m. uu' shady nooks alone the 
 hanks ol the lake were siiow-drilts, under the trees or 
 hi'hiiul proieetinj^ rocks. So loui; had winter liiii^ered 
 this season that pari ol ihe lake was still eo\("red with ice. 
 I ,aree Ira'.MUents ol ice were driltiui^ down the lake and 
 l)reakinL; anions; the ripples. Near the shore in sonu' 
 placi's. the water was Tilled with thousands ol narrow, 
 needledike pieics o| iic se\'eral iiuhes loui; .md perhaps 
 thick .is a m.iti h. which. 1>\ their ruhliim; l()i;etb<'r in the 
 mo\ine water, madi .1 L'.cntle suhdued murmin" like tlu' 
 ruslhuL^ ol a silken 'jown. When ice is t'Xjxised to a 
 hrii^ht sun lor se\(iMi ,la\s, it shows its internal structiu'e 
 in' sei)aratin^ into vertical cohmms, with a Lorain like that 
 o( wood. I h'' ice needles which wt' saw IkuI ht'en formed 
 during the last sta^^es ol this wondi-rlul process. 
 
 The Indians had nuule a most iwcellenl trail rotiiul the 
 lake, as lfe(|ueiuly h.ippeiis in an open countr\'. Wher- 
 I'ver dense hrush or much fallen timber occur, the trail 
 usual!)' disa|»pears alto_i;cther, onl)- to he discoveretl a^ain 
 
 ^IcT 
 
i;ul ciuiscci 
 borders of 
 nation was 
 ■oni|)l('tcl\- 
 list passed 
 en forests, 
 iher side, 
 1 tains, l)ur 
 ore anion*^ 
 
 alonj^ the 
 1' trees or 
 r limbered 
 1 with iee. 
 
 lake and 
 ■ in soini" 
 il narrow. 
 il perhaps 
 her in the 
 r like tlie 
 )sed to a 
 
 I strncture 
 
 II h'k<' th.il 
 en formed 
 
 Noii/i l.akr. 
 
 '! r 
 
 round the 
 ^ W'her- 
 , tin: trail 
 
 ;retl aj;am 
 
 
 
 
 f. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
I 
 
 i '■> 
 
 6 i 
 
 I's 
 
 "'-^aif 
 
I'> 
 
Iff I? I 
 
 \\ 
 
 II 
 
 ! f 
 
 i 
 
 
First View of Mt. Assiniboinc. 
 
 153 
 
 ll 
 
 where there is less need for it. It is said that a trail, 
 once made, will be jireserved by the various game ani- 
 mals of the country. In fact, there were quite recent 
 tracks of a mountain i^oat in the path we followed around 
 the lake. 
 
 The trail closely followed the water's edge and led us to 
 the extreme end of the lake and thence eastward, where, 
 having left this beautiful sheet of water, we passed through 
 a grove for a very short space and came at once to another 
 smaller, and possibly still more beautiful, sheet of water. 
 Simultaneously the magnificent and long-expected vision 
 of Mount Assiniboine appeared. It was a most maj(.stic 
 spire or wedge of rock rising out of great snow fields, 
 and resembling in a striking manner the Matterhorn of 
 Switzerland. 
 
 It would be impossible to describe our feelings at this 
 sight, which at length, after several days of severe march- 
 ing, now suddenly burst upon our view. The shouts of 
 our men, together with the excitement and pleasure de- 
 picted in every face, were sufficient evidence of our impres- 
 
 sions. 
 
 Aft 
 
 er a short 
 
 .'d to 
 
 pause, wi lie we encleavore 
 
 nee and gain some true 
 
 estimate the height and dista 
 
 idea of the mountain, all moved on rapidly through 
 
 alternating groves and meadows to 
 
 This was at length selected about a half mile from the 
 
 pi; 
 
 our camping place 
 
 ice where we first saw Mount Assiniboine. H 
 
 c;re was a 
 
 lak 
 
 e nearly a mile long, which reached up nearly to the 
 
 base of the mountain, from which it 
 
 was separated by a 
 
 'If' 
 
r \ 
 
 A 
 
 i 
 
 .. '^i 
 
 ?i; 
 
 « 
 
 i 
 1 
 
 ' 
 
 ■ t 
 
 ; 1; 
 
 1 
 
 it 
 
 154 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 glacier of considerable size. Our camp was on a terrace 
 above the lake, near the edge of a forest. A small stream 
 ran close to our tent, from which we could obtain water 
 for drinking and cooking purposes. The lake was in the 
 bottom of a wide valley, which extended northwards from 
 our camp for several miles, and then opened into another 
 valley running east and west. The whole place might be 
 described as an open plain among mountains of gentle 
 slope and moderate altitudes, grouped about Assiniboine 
 and its immediate spurs. 
 
 Our camp was 7000 feet above sea-level, and this was 
 the mean height of the valley in all this vicinity. On 
 mountain slopes this would be about the upper limit of 
 tree growth, but here, owing to the fact that the whole 
 region was elevated, the mean temperature was slightly 
 increased, and we found trees growing as high as 7400 or 
 7500 feet above sea-level. Nevertheless, the general char- 
 acter of the vegetation was sub-alpine. Many larches 
 were mingled with the balsam and spruce trees in the 
 groves, and extensive areas were destitute of trees alto- 
 gether. These moors were clothed with a variety of bushy 
 plants, mostly dwarfed by the rigor of the climate, while 
 here and there a small balsam tree could be seen, stunted 
 and d(;formed by its long contest for life, and bearing many 
 dead branches among those still alive. These bleached 
 and lifeless limbs, with their thick, twisted branches resist- 
 ing the axe, or even the a()proach of a wood-cutter, resem- 
 bled those weird and awful illustrations of Uore, where 
 
! t: 
 
 Summit LaAr, near Monuf Assimboim\ 
 
I : 
 
 T 
 
 \ !\ 
 
I 
 
 : 'I' 
 
-r-r-T- 
 
 i 
 
 ■ i 
 
 J 
 
 •ff;:. \ 
 
 J 
 
 'f / ■[ 
 
 .IH 
 
Camp A.ssinilx)inc. 
 
 155 
 
 fi 1 i 
 
 
 evil spirits in the infernal regions are represented trans- 
 formed to trees. 
 
 Curiously enough, the trees in the groves were more 
 or less huddled together, as though for mutual protection. 
 The outlying skirmishers of balsam or spruce were under- 
 sized, and often grew in natural hedges, so regular that 
 not one single hranchlet projected beyond the smooth 
 surface, as if sensitive of the wind and cold. The vege- 
 table world does not naturally excite our sympathy, but 
 this exhibition of, as it were, a united resistance against 
 the elements was almost pitiable. 
 
 Snow banks surrounded our camp and appeared every- 
 where in the valley. The lake was not entirely free of ice. 
 and large pieces of snow and ice, dislodged from the 
 shores, were drifting rapidly down the lake, driven on by 
 a strong wind and large waves. The whole picture resem- 
 bled a miniature Arctic sea, where the curiously formed 
 pieces of ice, often T-shaped and arched over the water, 
 recalled the characteristic forms of icebergs. 
 
 It was at first impossible to explain where this never- 
 failing supply of ice came from. What was our surprise, 
 on making an exploration of the lake, to find that it had 
 no outlet and was rapidly rising ! The snow banks and 
 masses of ice near the glacier were being gradually lifted 
 up and broken olT by the rising water, and so floated down 
 the lake. 
 
 We remained at Camp Assiniboine for two weeks. 
 During this time we ascended many of the lesser peaks 
 
 i 
 
 J.{ 
 
 4 
 
 i r 
 
 1 
 
 1' 
 
 i ' 
 
 i ■ i 
 
\ll 
 
 ■Si 
 
 t A 
 
 m 
 
 '56 
 
 The CaiKulian Rockies. 
 
 in tliL- vicinity, and niacU- excursions into the neij^hbor- 
 inj4 valU'Ns on all sides. The smoke only lasted one 
 day after our arrival, hut. unfortunatel)-, the weather 
 tlurini^ the lirst week was very uncertain and tlckk'. A 
 succession of stt)nns, \er)' brief but often severe, swept 
 over the mountains and treated us to a _i,frand exhibition 
 of cloud and storm effects on Mount Assinib(^ine. .Some- 
 times the summit would be clear, and sharply outlined 
 against the blue sk)', but suddenly a mass of black clouds 
 would ailvance from the west and envelope the peak in a 
 dark eoverin_Lj. l-oniL,^ streamers of fallinj^^ snow or rain 
 would then approach, and in a few moments we woukl feel 
 th(? efTects at our camp. Durinj^"^ these mountain storms 
 the wind blows in furious j^aists, the air is filled with snow 
 or sometimes hailstones, while thunder and lij^htnin^ con- 
 tinue for the space of about ten minutes. The clouds and 
 storm rapidly pass over eastward, and the wind falls, while 
 the sun warms the air, and in a few minutes removes 
 every trace of hail or snow. Thus we were often treated 
 to winter and summer weather, with all the j^^radations 
 between, several times over in the space of an hour. 
 
 It seemed impossible to ascend Mount Assiniboine, 
 guarded as it was by vertical cliffs and hanging glaciers. 
 Only one route appeared on this side of the mountain, and 
 this lay up the sle^p snow-co\ered slope of a glacier, 
 guarded at the top b\- a long sclintnd and often swept by 
 rocks from a moraine above. It might be possible, having 
 gained the top of this, to traverse the great iicvc surround- 
 
 ■ 
 
 \\ 
 
Summit of Mt. iVssiiiiboinc. 
 
 »57 
 
 injjf thf rock peak of Mount Assiniboinc. I'Voni the snow 
 t'u-'kls tlu' l)ar(' rock cliffs rise al)out _^.ooo feci. Vhc an^k: 
 of slope on cither side is a little more than fifty-one liej^rees, 
 a slope which is oftcMi called perpendicular, and, moreover, 
 as tlu; strata are horizontal, there are several \t'rtical walls 
 of rock, which sweep around the cntip' north and west 
 faces, and apparentl)- make impassabU; harrii-rs. 
 
 •■■ f 
 
 NORTH LAKE— L00KIN3 NORTHWEST. 
 
 i 
 

 M. \ 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 
 Evidence of Game — Discovery of a Mountain Goat — A Lons; Hunt — 
 A Critical Moment — A Terrible Fall — An Unpleasant Experience — 
 Habitat of the Mountain Goat — A Change of Weather — A Magnificent 
 Panorama — Set out to Explore the Mountain — Intense Heat of a Forest 
 Fire — Struf^f^liu}^ with Burnt Timber — A Mountain Bivouac — Ho/'e and 
 Despair — Success at Last — Short Rations — Topography of Mount Assini- 
 boine — The Vermilion River — A Wonderful Canyon — Fording the Bow 
 River. 
 
 DURINCi our excursions we met with but little 
 j^ame, thou<(h it was very evidently a retjjion 
 where wild animals were abundant. Th*^ ground 
 in many places was torn up by bears, where they had dug 
 out the gophers and marmots. Large pieces of turf, often 
 a foot or eighteen inches square, together with great 
 stones piled up and thrown about in confusion around 
 these excavations, gave evidence of the strength of these 
 powerful beasts. 
 
 Higher up on the mountains we sa'.v numerous tracks 
 of the mountain goat, and lufts of wool caught among the 
 bushes as they had brushet! by them. 
 
 I was strolling through the upper part of the valley 
 late one afternoon, when my eye fell suddenly on a moun- 
 tain goat walking along the cliffs about a quarter of a mile 
 
 i$8 
 
A Goat Hunt. 
 
 159 
 
 
 distant. I had no rifle at the time and so returned to 
 canijD for one, meanwhile keepint^ well covered by trees 
 and rocks. In a quarter of an hour I was back a^'-ain and 
 saw the goat disappear behind a ledge of rock about a 
 half mile distant. The mountain goat always runs up in 
 case of danger, so that it is essential to get above them in 
 order to hunt successfully. I started forthwith to climb 
 to a ledge about 200 feet above the one on which 
 the goat appeared. This involved an ascent of some 
 600 feet, as the strata had a gentle dip southward 
 toward Mount Assiniboine, so that it was necessary to 
 take the ledge at a higher point and follow the downward 
 slope. I was well covered by intervening cliffs, and the 
 wind was favorable. It seemed almost a certainty that I 
 should get a shot by following this ledge for about a mile. 
 Accordingly I moved rapidly at first, and afterwards more 
 cautiously, expecting to see the goat at any moment. At 
 length I came to a narrow gorge, partially filled with snow, 
 where there were fresh tracks leading both up and down. 
 On a further study of the problem, I saw fresh tracks in 
 the snow of the valley bottom, and knowing that it would 
 be nearly useless to go up for the goat, I took the alterna- 
 tive chance of finding the animal below. After a hunt of 
 two hours I returned to camp completely baffled. Arrived 
 there. I caught sight of the goat standing unconcernedly 
 on a still higher ledge. 
 
 It was now hte in the day, but after a good camp 
 dinner I set off again, determined to have that goat 
 if it was necessary to stalk him all night. The animal 
 
 
* w 
 
 
 Pll' 
 
 « I 
 
 1 60 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 was resting on a ledge near the top of a precipice fully 
 250 feet in height. I studied his position for at least 
 a quarter of an hour, carefully noting the snow patches 
 on the ledge above, so that it would be easy to recog- 
 nize them on arriving there. Having made sure that 
 I could recognize the exact spot below which the goat 
 \."as located, I started to climb, and by a rough esti- 
 mate calculated that I should have to ascend at least 
 1000 feet. After a few hundred yards, I was com- 
 { letely hidden from the goat in a shallow gully. Urged 
 on by the excitement of the hunt, I reached the ledge in 
 twenty minutes and turned southward. I now hatl ""o 
 scramble over and among some enormous blocks of stor: 
 which had fallen from the mountain side and wr.e strewn 
 about in wild disorder. Some were twenty feet high, and 
 between them were patches of snow which often gave way 
 very suddenly and plunged me into deep holes formed by 
 the snow melting back from the rock surfaces. Very soon 
 I came to a small pool of water and a trickling stream, 
 already freezing in the chill night air. 
 
 It was after nine o'clock, though there was still a bright 
 twilight in the northwest, somewhat shaded, however, by 
 the dark cliffs above. I proceeded very slowly, so as to 
 cool down somewhat and become a little steadier after the 
 rapid ascent. In about ten minutes I recognized the patoh 
 of snow under which the goat was located, about one hun- 
 dred yards ahead. I went to the edge of the precipice 
 cautiously, with rifle ready, and examined the ledges 
 below. The up-draught, caused by the sun during the day- 
 
 '■; : f 
 
A Critical Moment. 
 
 i6i 
 
 time, just now chang^ed to the downward flow of the night 
 air, chilled by radiation on the mountain side. This I 
 thought would arouse the goat, but just at that moment 
 my foot slipped and I dislodged a few pieces of loose 
 shingle, which went rattling down the cliffs. These 
 stones made the goat apprehensive of danger, in all 
 probability, for I had no sooner recovered my balance 
 than I caught sight of the white head and shoulders of 
 the animal about twenty-five yards below. The animal 
 stood motionless and stared at me in a surprised but im- 
 pudent manner. I took aim, but could not keep the sight 
 on him long enough to make sure of a shot, as my rapid 
 climb had made my nerves a trifle unsteady. Fortunatelv, 
 the goat showed not the slightest disposition to move and 
 in a few seconds I got a good aim and fired. As soon 
 as the smoke cleared, I saw a dash of white disap- 
 pearing, and then heard a dull thud far below. A 
 few seconds later I saw the animal rolling over and over 
 down the mountain side, where it finally stopped on n ihde 
 of loose stones. I had to make a long detour in order to 
 get down to the animal, where I arrived in about half 
 an hour, and, remarkably enough, both horns were 
 uninjured, though the goat had fallen 125 feet 
 before striking. This good luck resulted hnn a 
 small snow patch at the base of the cliff, which had broken 
 the force of the fall, and here there was a perfect impres- 
 sion of the animal's body, eif];nteen inches deep, in the 
 hard snow, while the next n'ace where he had struck was 
 about fifteen feet below. 
 
 i 
 
 :i f 
 
 tl: 
 
IH 
 
 11 
 
 f , ' 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 162 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 It was about 10:30 o'clock when I started for camp, 
 and so dark, at this late hour, that it was just possible 
 to distincruish the obscure forms of rocks and trees on 
 the mountain side. There was still another ledge to be 
 passed i)efore I could get ilown to the valley, where 
 the only recognizable landmarks were occasional snow 
 patches, and a single bright gleam in the darkness — our 
 camp fire. I traversed northwards in descending, so 
 as to pass beyond the vertical ledge, and at length, 
 thinl- ■ '>.' that I had gone far enough, tried to descend. 
 The p{. as steep, but as there were a feu bushes and 
 
 trees a sai^ descent seemed practicable. So I unslung 
 my rifle, ami, after resting it securely in a depression, I 
 lowered myself till my feet rested on a projection of rock 
 below. At the next move there was great difficulty in 
 finding a rest for the ritle. At length I found a fair place, 
 and lowered myself again. One more step and I should 
 reach the bottom. Fortunately there was a stout balsam 
 tree at the top of the ledge, with great twisted roots above 
 the rocks, which woukl afford excellent hand-holds. 
 Grasping them, after placing the rifle in the lowest place, 
 I lowered myself again, but to my surprise I could not 
 touch the bottom, and. looking down, found that I was 
 hanging over a ledge twenty feet high with rough stones 
 below. Just then the rifle began to slip down, as in my 
 movements I had disturbed some bushes supporting it. 
 With one hand firmly grasping a stout root, and the toe 
 of my boot resting against the cliff, 1 took the rifle in my 
 other hand, and after a most tiresome struggle, succeeded 
 
A Difficult Descent. 
 
 163 
 
 at lenorth in placino; it secure for the moment. It was 
 now a hand-over-hand contest to oet up. In goino- down 
 everythino; liad seemed most firm and secure, but now it 
 was impossible to rel\- on anythinir, as the bushes broke 
 away in my hand or were pulled out by the roots, and the 
 rocks all appeared loose or too smooth to grasp. Neces- 
 sit>-. however, knows no law, and after a most desperate 
 effort I regained the top of the cliff. Not relishing any 
 more experiences o*" this nature, I groped m\- way along 
 for some distance and finally found an easy descent. On 
 reaching the valley, the snow patches here and there 
 afforded safe routes, illumined, as they were, by the 
 starlight. I rea. ed camp after eleven o'clock tired but 
 successful. 
 
 My men started at five o'clock in the morning with ropes 
 and a pole to bring down the game. It was a fine young 
 male, and we found the meat a most pleasing addition to 
 our ordinary fare. Goat meat has always had a bad repu- 
 tation among campers and explorers, by reason of its rank 
 flavor. This, however, probably depends on the age and 
 sex of the animal, or the season of year. In all those that 
 I have tried there was merely a faintly sweet flavor, which, 
 however, is not at al! apparent if the meat is broiled or 
 roasted, and it is .hen equal to very fair beef or mutton. 
 
 The mountain goat inhabits the cliffs and snowy peaks 
 of the Rockies, from Alaska to Montana and Idaho, and 
 thence southward in certain isolated localities. Both sexes 
 are rirnished with sharp black horns curving gracefully 
 backwards. The muzzle and hoofs are jet black, but the 
 
 i 
 
 1 1' 
 
^^m 
 
 f- : 
 
 I I 
 
 U 
 
 164 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 wool is snow-white, lon^, and soft, makiny^ a beautiful rucf 
 if the animal is killed in winter. Then the hair becomes 
 very lon_ij, and the soft thick wool underneath is so dense 
 as to prevent the fingers passing through. 
 
 Though these strange animals resemble true goats to 
 a remarkable degree, and the old males sometimes have 
 beards in winter, they are really a species of antelope, 
 closely related to the chamois of Switzerland. They do 
 not resemble those animals in wariness and intelligence, 
 but are rather stupid and slow in getting out of danger. 
 They are, however, pugnacious, and, when brought to bay. 
 will often charge on the hunter and work fearful damage 
 with their sharp horns. The legs are exceedingly stout 
 and so thickly covered with long hair as to give the 
 animal a clumsy appearance. Their trails are almost 
 always to be found traversing the mountain sides, far 
 above the tree line, at the bases of cliffs, and often passing 
 over the lowest depression into the next valley. These 
 goat tracks are so well marked that they often help the 
 mountaineer, and sometimes lead him over jjlaces where 
 without their guidance it would b*^ impossible to go. The 
 gait of the animal when running is a sort of gallop, which 
 appears rather slow, but when one considers the nature of 
 the ground they traverse, it is very rapid. The most in- 
 accessible cliffs, frozen snow fields, or crevass(!d glaciers 
 offer no barriers to these surefooted animals. I have 
 seen a herd of several goats bounding along on the face 
 of the cliffs, where it did not appear from below that there 
 could be any possible foothc^ld. 
 
 When a herd of goats come to a gorge or passage of 
 
^■p 
 
 4^ 
 
 Head of Rocky Moinitain Goat. 
 
 Shot July iSt/i, iS<pj. 
 
 ■'i 
 
^1 
 
 I- 
 
T 
 
1 
 
 I 
 
 
 1 
 
 '■ 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 • 
 
 W^ 
 
 I f 
 
w 
 
 Haunt of the Mountain (loat. 
 
 1(35 
 
 any kind wiicrr Ioosl- stones 
 arc liaMc U) \)v ilisl(Kl<.fccl on 
 those hc'low, these skilful 
 mountaineers adopt tiie 
 same plan of progress prac- 
 tised hy human climbers. 
 While the herd rtin.iins he- 
 low, untler the protection of 
 the cliffs, one .s^oat climbs 
 the ijiilly, ami upon arrivinj,^ 
 at the top another follows, 
 • and thus, one b\' one, all 
 escape clanjj^er. 
 
 The mountain <^oat is 
 difficult to hunt b)- reason of 
 the amount of climbin_i,f 
 , necessary to get near them, 
 or above them. They are 
 far less wary than the 
 chamois of .Switzer- 
 land, or the Rock\- 
 Mountain sheep. 
 Neverthek;ss, they 
 seem to be en- 
 dowed with a 
 wonderful \ital- 
 it)-, antl iivv, \ery 
 hard to kill. A 
 goat not fatally 
 wound(;d will 
 
 i 
 
 ' HAUNT OF THE MOUNTAIN GOAT.' 
 
 I I 
 

 '' 
 
 hi 
 
 
 i 
 
 III! 
 
 1 66 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 oft(.'n juini) from a cliff on which he is stiuulin^, and survive 
 a considcrabk: fall. A friend of mine shot a ^^oat near 
 L.ikf Louise, which, after the first Inillct, rolled down a 
 cliff more than thirty feet hij^h and landed on its feet at the 
 bottom, where it proceeded to walk off as though nothing 
 unusual had happened. The animal I shot near Mount 
 Assiniboint! fell 125 feet, and then rolled 200 feet fart'^er, 
 and was still alive wlu-n I reached him half an hour later. 
 
 These animals are by far the most numerous of the big 
 game in the Canadian Rockies, and are said to be increas- 
 ing in numbers. Their habits of frecjuenting high alti- 
 tudes and inaccessible parts of mountains will tend to 
 preserve them for many yt^ars from the ndentless hunter. 
 
 After a week of fickle weather with five inches of new 
 snow on July 15th, there was a ilecided change *^or the 
 
 better, and the warm, bright davs following om 
 
 ither 
 
 more regularly gave us the first taste of real suniincr that 
 we had. Fhe massed drifts of snow diminished from clay 
 to day and the ice disappeared from the lakes. Nature, 
 however, tempered her delights by ushering in vast num- 
 bers of inoscjuitoes and bull-dog flies to plague us. I was 
 engaged at this time in some surveying work, in order to 
 determine the height of Mount Assiniboine, and had to 
 exercise the utmost patience in sighting the instruments, 
 surrounded by hundreds of voracious foes, and often had 
 to allow my face and hands to remain exposed to their 
 stings for several minutes. 
 
 We obtained the most imposing view of Mount Assin- 
 iboine from the summit of a mountain about five miles 
 
w 
 
 Another View of Mount Assiniboiiic. 
 
 167 
 
 cast of our cain|). SlaiuliiiL; at an altitude ol SSoo feet, 
 then; wfjre eiirlueen hikes, hirij^e and small, to he s(!en in 
 the various valleys, which, toj^ethcr with the tumultuous 
 ranges of the Rocky Mountains on every side, some of 
 them fifty or sixty miles distant, formed a magnificent 
 J) a n o rama. 
 I'rom this 
 point, which 
 was nearly 
 due north of 
 Mount Assin- 
 iboine, the 
 m o u n t a i n 
 shows an out- 
 line altojjfethcr 
 different from 
 that seen at 
 our camp. 
 
 Here it forms a magnificent termination of a stupendous 
 wall or ridge of rock, about i 1,000 fe(;t high, which runs 
 eastward for several miles, anil th(;n curving around to 
 the north, rises into another lofty peak nearly rivalling 
 Mount Assiniboine in height. A very large glacier sweeps 
 down from the ncvc on the; north side of this lesser peak, 
 and descends in a crevassed slope to the valley bottom. 
 
 The valle)' just east of us was quite filled by three 
 lakes, the uppermost deep blue, the next greenish, and a 
 smaller one, farther north, of a Aellowish color. 
 
 Our last exploit at Mount Assiniboine was to walk 
 
 MOUNT ASSINIBOINE FROM NORTHWEST. 
 
 ( 
 
.', -, 
 
 li 
 
 I 
 
 I: 
 
 
 1 68 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 completely around the mountain. We had long desired 
 to learn somethinj^ of the east and south sides of this 
 interesting peak, and to effect this Mr. B., Peyto, and 1 
 started on July 26tli, determined to see as much as pos- 
 sible in a three days' trip. Our provisions consisted of 
 bacon, hard tack, tea, su.;ar. and raisins. Besides this we 
 carried one blanket apiece, a small hand axe, and a camera. 
 As our success would depend in great measure on the 
 rapidity of our movements, we did not burden ourselves 
 with ice-axes or firearms except a six-shooter. After bid- 
 ding farewell to Mr. P. and the other men in camp, and 
 telling them to expect us back in three days, we left our 
 camp at eight o'clock in the morning. We walked for 
 three miles through the open valleys to the north ar '. 
 east, and in about two hours stood at the top of the pass, 
 some 8000 feet above sea-level. From here we made a 
 rapid descent for about 2000 feet, lo the largest lake of 
 this unexplored valley, which probably supplies one of the 
 tributaries to the Spray River. The change in the char- 
 acter of the vegetation was remarkable. The trees grew 
 to an immense size and reminded me strongly of a Sel k 
 forest. We had a most difficult scramble here in tiii, 
 pathless forest and up the opposite side of the ■s' lley. 
 The heat wps oppressive, and wt; were glad to gain the 
 level of another more elevated valle)' where a cooler 
 atmosphere greeted us. We held our way eastward for 
 sevcal miles through a tine 'ipl.ind meadow, where the 
 walkiu'' was ei >y and tlie surroundini/s delightful. Wv 
 noon we reached a small, shallow lake near the highest 
 
 \ • 
 
 I 
 
■■■Mi 
 
 Intense Heat of a Forest Fire. 
 
 169 
 
 part of the divide, considerably below tree line. Here 
 we decided to rest and have lunch. Mr. B. hail explored 
 this region with one of his men a few days previously, 
 and from him we learned that we should have to struggle 
 with burnt timber in a few moments. The onward rush 
 of the devastating fire had been stopped near the |)ass, 
 where the trees were small and scattered. After a short 
 descent we entered the burnt timber. I have never before 
 seen a region so absolutely devastated by fire as this. 
 The fire must have burnt with an unusually fierce heat, 
 for it had consumed the smaller trees entirely, or warped 
 them over till they had formed half circles, with their tops 
 touching the ground. The outcrops of sandstone and 
 quartz rocks had been splintered into sharp-edged, gritty 
 stones, covering the ground everywhere like so many 
 knives. The course of the valley now turned rapidly to 
 the south, so that we rounded a corner of the great mass 
 of mountains culminating in Mount Assiniboine. The 
 mountain itself had been for a long time shut out from 
 view by an intervening lofty ridge of glacier-clad peaks, 
 which were, in reality, merely outlying spurs. 
 
 The valley in which we were now walking had an un- 
 usual formation, for after a short tlistance we approached 
 a great step, or drop, whereby the valley l)ottom made a 
 descent of 400 or 5 jo feet at an exceedingly steep pitch. 
 Here it was difficult to d scend even in the easiest 
 places. Arrived at the bottom of the descent it was not 
 very long before another appeared, far deeptM" than the 
 first. The mountains on either side, especially a most 
 
 ^ 
 

 ? f:. 
 
 ■ ,i 
 
 : I . 
 
 i I 
 
 J 
 
 i! 
 
 170 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 striking and prominent peak on the east side of the 
 valley, which had hitherto appeared of majestic height, 
 seemed to rise to immeasurable altitudes as we plunged 
 deeper and deeper in rapid descent. 
 
 The burnt timber continued without interruption. 
 Our passage became mere log walking, as the extra exer- 
 tion of jumping over the trees was worse than following 
 a crooked course on top of the prostrate trunks. This 
 laborious and exceedingly tiresome work continued for 
 three hours, and at length the charred trunks, uprooted 
 or burnt off near the ground, and crossed in every direc- 
 tion, were piled so high that we were often ten or twelve 
 feet above the ground, and had to work out our puzzling 
 passage with considerable forethought. At five o'clock 
 our labors ended. We made a camp near a large stream 
 which appeared to take its source near Mount Assini- 
 boine. The only good thing about this camp was the 
 abundance of firewood, which was well seasoned, required 
 but little chopping, and was already half converted into 
 charcoal. Under the shelter of an overhanging limestone 
 ledge we made three lean-tos by supporting our blankets 
 on upright stakes. Black as coal-heavers from our long 
 walk in the burnt timber, seeking a refuge in the rocky 
 ledges of the mountains, and clad in uncouth garments 
 torn and discolored, we must have resembled the aborigi- 
 nal savages of this wild region. Some thick masses of 
 sphagnum moss, long since dried up, gave us a soft cover- 
 ing, to place on the rough, rocky ground. Our supper 
 consisted of bacon, hard tack, and tea. Large llat stones 
 
A Mountain Bivouac. 
 
 171 
 
 laid on a gentle charcoal fire served to broil our bacon 
 most excellently, though the heat soon cracked the stones 
 in pieces. 
 
 At eight o'clock we retired to the protection of our 
 shelter. Overhead the starless sky was cloudy and threat- 
 ened rain. The aneroid, which was fallintv, indicated that 
 our altitude was only 4,700 feet above the sea. VVe 
 arose early in the morning ; our breakfast was over and 
 everybody ready to proceed at seven o'clock. We were 
 now on the Pacific slope, and, according to out calcula- 
 tions, on one of the tributaries to the north fork of the 
 Cross River, which, in turn, is a tributary to the Kootanie. 
 
 We had a plan to explore up the valley from which our 
 stream issued, but beyond that, all was indefinite. It was 
 possible that this valley led around Mount Assiniboine so 
 that we could reach camp in two days. We were, how- 
 ever, certain of nothing as to the geography of the region 
 which we were now entering. 
 
 The clouds covered the entin; sky and obscured the 
 highest mountain peaks Worse still, they steadily de- 
 scended lower and lower, ^11 of bad weather. We had, 
 however, but this day in whicli to ee the south sitl • of 
 Mount Assiniboine, and consequeiili\ nerc resob cd to do 
 our best, though the chances were much against us. For 
 three hours we followed the stream through the burnt lim- 
 ber, then the country became more open and -lur progress, 
 accordingly, more rapid. A little after ten o'clock we sat 
 down by the bank of the stream to rest for a few m inents, 
 and eat a lunch of hard tack and cold bacon. uch fare 
 
 i 
 
 '3 
 1 
 
172 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 m 
 
 I!i 
 
 may seem far from appetiziiii^ to those of sedentary habits, 
 hut our tramp of three hours over the fallen trees was 
 equivalent to fully five or six hours walking on a good 
 country road, and what with the fresh mountain air and a 
 light breakfast early in the morning, our simple lunch was 
 most acceptable. 
 
 A most pleasing and encouraging change of weather 
 now took place. A sudden gleam of sunlight, partially 
 paled by a thin cloud, called our attention upward, when 
 to our great relief several areas of blue sky appeared, the 
 clouds were rising and breaking up, and there was every 
 prospect of a change for the better. 
 
 Once more assuming our various packs, we pushed on 
 with renewed energy. On the left or south was a long 
 lofty ridge of nearly uniform height. On the right was a 
 stupendous mountain wall of great height, the top of which 
 was concealed by the clouds. This impassable barrier 
 seemed to curve around at the head of the valley, and, turn- 
 ing to the south, join the ridge on the opposite side. 
 This then was a "blind" valley without an outlet. There 
 were two courses open to us. The first was to wait a few 
 hours, hoping to see Mount Assiniboine and return to 
 camp the way we came. The second was to force a passage, 
 if possible, over the mountain ridge to the south and so 
 descend into the N(^rth b'ork valhn', which we were certain 
 hi)' on the otiier side. The latter plan was much preferable, 
 as we would have a better chance to see Mount Assiniboine, 
 anil the possibility of returning to camp by a new route. 
 
 After a short discussion, we sclectctl a favorabU; slope 
 
 li m 
 
 I 
 
It; fn. 
 
 Hope and Despair. 
 
 ^72, 
 
 and began to ascend the mountain ridge. A vast assem- 
 blage of obstacles behind us in the shape of two high 
 passes, dense forests, and a horrid infinity of fallen trees, 
 crossed bewilderingly, made a picture in our minds, con- 
 stant and vivid as it was, that urged us forward. In strik- 
 ing contrast to this picture, hope had built a pleasing air 
 castle before us. We were now climbing to its outworks, 
 and should we succeed in capturing the place, a new and 
 pleasant route would lead us back to camp and place us 
 there— so bold is hope— perhaps by nightfall. 
 
 Thus with a repelling force pushing from behind and 
 an attractive force drawing us forward, we were resolved 
 to overcome all but the insuperable. 
 
 There was much of interest on the mountain slope, 
 which was gentle, and allowed us to pay some attention to 
 our surroundings. On this slope the scattered pine trees 
 had escaped the fire and offered a pleasant contrast to 
 the burnt timber. We passed several red-colored ledges 
 containing rich deposits of iron ore. while crystals of 
 calcite and siderite were strewed everywhere, and often 
 formed a brilliant surface of sparkling, sharp-edged rhombs 
 over the dull gray limestone. Among the limestones and 
 shales we found fossil shells and several species of trilo- 
 bites. 
 
 In an hour we had come apparently to the top of our 
 ridge, though of course we hardly dared hope It was the 
 true summit. As, one by one, we reached a commanding 
 spot, a blank, silent gaze stole over the face of each. To 
 our dismay, a vertical wall of rock, without any opening 
 
1 
 
 
 
 i|i| 
 
 174 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 whatever, stood before us and rose a half thousand feet 
 higher. Thus were all our hopes dashed to the ground 
 suddenly, and we turned perforce, in imagination, to our 
 weary return over the many miles of dead and prostrate 
 tree trunks that intervened between us and our camp. 
 
 The main object of our long journey was, however, 
 at this time attained, for the clouds lifted and revealed the 
 south side of Mount Assiniboine, a sight that probably no 
 other white men have ever seen. I took my camera and 
 descended on a rocky ridge for some distance in order to 
 get a photograph. Returning to where my friends were 
 resting, I felt the first sensation of dizziness and weakness, 
 resulting from unusual physical exertion and a meagre 
 diet. I joined the others in another repast of raisins and 
 hard tack, taken from our rapidly diminishing store of 
 provisions. 
 
 Some more propitious divinity must have been guiding 
 our affairs at this time, for while we were despondent at 
 our defeat, and engaged in discussing the most extrava- 
 gant routes up an inaccessible cliff, our eyes fell on a well 
 defined goat trail leading along the mountain side on our 
 left. It offered a chance and we accepted it. Peyto set 
 off ahead of us while we were packing up our burdens, 
 and soon appeared like a small black spot on the steep 
 mountain side. Havingalready passed several places that 
 appeared very dangerous, what was our surprise to see him 
 now begin to move slowly up a slope of snow that ap- 
 peared nearly vertical. We stood still from amazement, 
 and argued that if he could go up such a place as that, 
 he could go anywhere, and that where he went we could 
 
 'i-l 
 
Success at Last. 
 
 '75 
 
 follow. We rushed after him, and found the goat trail 
 nearly a foot wide, and the danjj^erous places not so had 
 as they seemed. The snow ascent was remarkably steep, 
 but safe enough, and, after reaching the top, the goat trail 
 led us on, like a faithful guide pointing out a safe route. 
 We could only see a short distance ahead by reason of 
 the great ridges and gullies that we crossed. Below us 
 was a steep slope, rough with projecting crags, while, as we 
 passed along, showers of loose stones rolled down the moun- 
 tain side and made an infernal clatter, ever reminding us 
 not to slip. At one o'clock we stood on the top of the 
 ridg(? 9000 feet above sea-level, having ascended 4300 feet 
 from our last camp. 
 
 The valley of the north fork of the Cross River lay 
 far below, with green timber once more in sight, inviting 
 us to descend. After five minutes delay, for another 
 photograph, we started our descent, verj- rapidly, at first, 
 in order to get warm. We descended a steep slope of 
 loose debris, then through a long gully, rather rough, and 
 rendered dangerous by loose stones, till at length we 
 reached the grassy slopes, then bushes, finally trees and 
 forests, with a warm summery atmosphere. Here, 
 beautiful asters and castilleias, and beds of the fragrant 
 Linneas, delicate, low herbs with pale, twin flowers, each 
 pair pendent on a single stem, gave a new appearance to 
 the vegetation. In still greater contrast to the dark con- 
 ilcrous forests of the mountain, there were many white 
 birch trees, and a few small maples, the first I have ever 
 seen in the Rockies. In a meadow by the river we feasted 
 on wild strawberries, which were now in their prime. 
 
 i 
 
f , /■■ r 
 
 i! 
 
 ■li 
 
 176 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 Near the river we discovered a trail, the first we had 
 seen so far on our journey around Assiniboine. After an 
 hour of walkinjj^ we came to a number of horses, and soon 
 saw on the other side of the river a camp of another party 
 of i^entlemen, who were exploring this region, and had 
 been out from Banff twenty-four days. We forded the 
 river, and found it a little over our knees, but very swift. 
 
 A very pleasant half hour was spent at this place, en- 
 joying their hospitality, and then we pushed on. We 
 were now going westward up the valley, which held a 
 straight course of about six miles, and then turned 
 around to the north. The trail being good, we 
 walked very rapidly till nightfall in a supreme 
 effort to reach our camp that night. Having now 
 been on our feet almost continuously for the past 
 fifteen hours, we had become so fatigued that a very 
 slight obstruction was sufificient to cause a fall, and every 
 few minutes some one of the party would go headlong 
 among the burnt timber. We had barely enough pro- 
 visions for another meal, however, and so we desired to 
 get as near headquarters as possible. At length, night- 
 fall havnig rendered farther progress impossible, we found 
 a fairly level place among the prostrate trees, and, after a 
 meal of bacon and hard tack, lay down on the ground 
 around a large fire. The night was mild, and extreme weari- 
 ness gave us sound sleep. After four hours of sleep, we were 
 aeain on foot at four o'clock in the morning. We marched 
 into camp at 6:30, where the cooks were just building the 
 morning fires, and commencing to prepare breakfast. 
 
 I: 
 
Topoi^raphy. 
 
 1/7 
 
 We were without doubt the first to accompHsh the 
 circuit of Mount Assiniboine. By pedometer, the dis- 
 tance was fifty-one miles, which we acconipHshed in forty- 
 six hours, or less than two days. 
 
 Mount Assiniboine is the culminating point of a nearly 
 square system of mountains covering about thirty-five 
 scpiare miles. According to my estimates from angles 
 taken by surveying instruments made on the spot, the 
 mountain is 11,680 feet in height. Later on. how- 
 ever, I learned from Mr. McArthur, who is connected 
 with the Topographical Survey, and who has probably 
 climbed more peaks of the Canadian Rockies than any 
 other two men, that, according to some angles taken on 
 this mountain from a great distance, the height is 1 1,830 
 feet. 
 
 Three rivers, the Spray, the Simpson, and the North 
 Fork of the Cross, drain this region, and as the two latter 
 flow into the Columbia, and the former into the Sas- 
 katchewan, this great mountain is on the watershed, and 
 consequently on the boundary line between Alberta and 
 British Columbia. About two-thirds of the forest area 
 round its base has been burned over, and this renders 
 the scenery most unattractive. The north and northwest 
 sides, however, are covered with green timber, and studded 
 with lakes, of which one is two miles or more in length. 
 There are in all thirteen lakes around the immediate base 
 of the mountain, and some are exquisitely beautiful. 
 
 The great height and striking appearance of Mount 
 Assiniboine will undoubtedly, in the future, attract moun- 
 
 'i 
 
r i' 
 
 
 
 |i 
 
 178 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 tainecrs to this rej^ion, especially as a much shorter route 
 exists than the one \v6 followed. If the trail is opened 
 alont,r t\\v. S[)ray River, the t^xplorer should be able to 
 reach the mountain, with horses, in two days from Banff. 
 Mount: .Assiniboine, especially when seen from the north, 
 resembles the Matterhorn in a striking manner. Its top 
 is often shrouded in clouds, and when the wind is westerly, 
 frequently displays a lonsj^ cloud banner trailin_s^ out from 
 its eastern side. The mountain is one that will prove 
 exceediuLjly difficult to the climber. On every side the 
 slope is no less than fifty degrees, and on the east, ap- 
 proaches sixty-five or sevent) . Moreover, the horizontal 
 strata have weathered away in such a manner as to form 
 vertical ledijes, which completely girdle the mountain, and, 
 from below, appear to offer a hopeless problem. In every 
 storm the mountain is covered with new snow, even in 
 summer, and this comes rushing down in frequent ava- 
 lanches, thus adding a new source of danger and perplexity 
 to the mountaineer. 
 
 The day of our arrival in camp was spent in much- 
 needed rest. Our time was now up, and it was necessary, 
 on the next day, to commence our homeward journey, 
 and, as our winding cavalcade left the beautiful site of 
 our camp under the towering walls of Mount Assiniboine, 
 many were the unexpressed feelings of regret, for in the 
 two weeks spent here we had had many delightful experi- 
 ences, and had become familiar with every charming view 
 of lakes and forests and mountains. 
 
 In two days we reached the fork where the Simpson 
 
)V! 
 
 Crossini^r the V'cniiilioii Rivc:r. 
 
 '79 
 
 and Vermilion rivers unite. It was our intention to 
 follow u[) the X'erniilion River aiui rt;ach the Bow valle)- 
 by the V(;rniilion Pass. The Ve-rmilion River is at this 
 point a lar<;e, deep stream llowin},^ swiftly and smoothly 
 The valley is very wiile and densely foresteil. with occa- 
 sional oi)en places near the riv<r. For three dajs we 
 proLjressed up the rivc-r, often bein^ compelled to cross it 
 on account of the dense timber. At one place, after 
 several of the horses had j^ained a bar in the middle of 
 the river, one of those followin^^ _i,fot beyond his dt.-pth 
 and was swept rapidly down, and appeared in great danger 
 of being drowned. Fortunately, the animal was caught 
 by an eddy current, and by desperate swimming at length 
 gained the bar. The poor beast was, however, so much 
 benumbed by the cold water that he could not climb upon 
 the bar, but the men dashed in bravely, and by pulling on 
 head and packs, and even his tail, the animal fnially 
 struggled into shallow water. Standing up to our knees 
 in the water, with a deep channel on either side of us and 
 an angry rapid below, our prospects v/ere far from en- 
 
 m 
 
 couragmg. 
 
 I mounted old Chiniquy behind Peyto and we i)]ung(.'d 
 in first. " It 's swim sure this time," said Peyto to me, as 
 the water rose at Oi.ce nearly to the horse's back, and the 
 ice-cold water, creeping momentarily higher, gave us a 
 most uncomfortable sensation. The current was so swift 
 that the water was banked up much higher on the up- 
 stream side. Such crossings are very exciting, for at any 
 moment the horse may stumble on the rough bottom or 
 
 i 
 
) 
 
 I So 
 
 TIic Canadian Rockies. 
 
 iflH 
 
 phii^yc into a ilccp hole. Cliini(iii\' hail a hanl time of 
 it ami groaneii at every stvp. but ^ot us across all rij^^ht. 
 The rest all foUovveil, not. however, ov(-'r-con(kleiU at our 
 success, to judijje by their anxious looks. All <^ot across 
 except one; pack-horse, which, after a voyaj^n; down stream, 
 we finally cau»,dit and pidled ashore. 
 
 Then- was evidence of much tjame in this valley, as 
 we saw many tracks of deer, caribou, and bears. One 
 day, just as we stopped to camp, a tloe started up and ran 
 by us. W'e camptid on Auj^ust Jiul at a beautiful spot 
 near the summit of tlie V(;rmilion I'ass. A lary^e stream 
 came in from the northwest, and we set out to explore it 
 for a short distance, as, before leaviny^ lianff, we had heard 
 of a remarkable canyon near this place. 
 
 Not more than an eighth of a mile from the junction 
 of the two streams the canyon commences. At first, the 
 stream is hemmed in by two rocky walls a few feet in 
 heitjht, but as one ascends, the walls become higher aod 
 hiij^her, and the sound of the roarinij^ stream is lost in the 
 black depth of a j;doomy chasm. To one leaninj^ over the 
 edjre of the beetlintj precipice;, this wonderful gorjj^e ap- 
 pears like a bottomless rift or rent in the mountain sitie, 
 and so deep is it and so closely do the opposite, irrej^ular 
 walls press one tov/ards another, that it is impossible to 
 see the waters below from which a faint, sullen murmur 
 comes up. 
 
 Most wonderful of all, the canyon at length comes to 
 a sudden termination, and here the whole mighty stream 
 plunges headlong, as it were, into the very bowels of the 
 
 fi: 
 
 
A W'oiulcrful Canyon. 
 
 iSl 
 
 (,'artli. The boilintr stream, turned snow-wliite 1)\- a short 
 preliminary leap, makes a linal plunge ijownwarcis ami 
 is lost to sii^rht in a dark lavcrnous hole, |)rrhaps 300 
 feet iletrp, whenct' proceeds a most awful roar, like; that 
 of ponderous uiachinerv in motion. The urouiid, which 
 
 is here a s )lid ([uartzit*! formation, fairly treml)les at 
 the t(;rrible concussion and force of the f.dlin^ waters, 
 while cold, mist-laden airs asc* iid in whirling- jousts from 
 th(; awful dc^pths. Niai^.ira is majesticall)' and supremeK- 
 j,'ranil, hut this k-sser fall, where tin; water plunj^cs into a 
 black bottomless hole, is by far the more terrify! nj;. 
 
 On the fourth of Aujj^ust we reached the summit of 
 the W'rmilion I'ass. On the summit we passed several 
 
 sm 
 
 all lake's 
 
 in the forest. 
 Thi-waterwas 
 of a most beau- 
 tiful color, far 
 
 more vivid 
 
 ih 
 
 an 
 
 any 
 
 I 
 
 have hitherto 
 seen. In the 
 shallow places 
 where the- bot- 
 
 Id be 
 
 lom cou 
 
 easi 
 
 ly 
 
 seen, 
 
 LAKE ON VERMILION PASS. 
 
 the water as- 
 sumed a brit,dit, clear, ijj^reen color, ani-l in the deeper 
 places, according to the light and angle of view, the color 
 
 W 
 
 )ii 
 
w 
 
 \r 
 
 ; n 
 
 182 
 
 'I'hc Canadian Rockies. 
 
 varied to darker luuis of all possible shades and tints. 
 The rich colors of sky and water in the Rocky Mountains 
 is one of the most beautiful features of the scenery, but 
 likewise one that can only be appreciated b\' actual 
 experience. 
 
 Our horses were plagued by s^reat numbers of bull-dot,^ 
 flies as we ententd the; Bow valle). It seems as ihouL,di 
 these insects wf-re more numerous in the valley of the 
 Bow, and its various tributaries, than m those parts of the 
 mountains drained by other ri\-ers. 
 
 ;\t four (j'clock we reached the Bow River, antl forded 
 it when; the width was about one hundred \ards, and the 
 deptii four {va-\. My camera and several plates were 
 flooded in this passaj^e, which was, however, effected in 
 safety. 
 
 .\ march of one hour more, alon*; the tote-road, brought 
 us to the station of Castle Mountain, once a thriving vil- 
 lage in the railr<;ad-construction days, but now presenting 
 a forlorn and deserted appearance. I'he section men 
 flagged the east-bound train for us, and we arrived in 
 Banff that (.-vening, after having been in camp for twenty- 
 nine days. 
 
m 
 
 l ^r 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 T//f U'aputchk R(i}i}:;e — J/cii^/if of the Moiuitains—Vdst S/ztnc F/rh/s 
 and Glacicn — yoiinny up the Jhnv — //ewe of a J'rospeetor — Causes an J 
 J''re(/tteih-y of /''orest Fires — ./ Visit to the Lo-ioer Bow l.ahe — Afiis/.-ei^s — 
 A Mountain Flooded with lee — Deiii^htfui Seenes at the I'pper Jloic 
 Loke—Ju-auty of the Shores — Lake Trout— The Great Toio Glaeier. 
 
 THE Summit Ran_o;e of the Rock^ Mountains as they 
 extend northward from the deep and narrow 
 valley of the Kicking Horse River has a special 
 name — the Waputehk Range,— derived, it is said, from a 
 word which in the language of the Stoney Indians means 
 the White Goat. 
 
 From the summit of one of the peaks in this range, 
 the climber beholds a sea of mountains running in long, 
 nearly parallel, ridges, sometimes uniting and rising to a 
 higher altitude, and again dividing, so as to form countless 
 spurs and a complicated topography. In this range each 
 ridg(.' usually presents a lofty escarpment and bare pre- 
 cipitous walls of rock on its eastern face, while the oppo- 
 site slope is more gentle. Here the Cambrian sandstones 
 and shales and the limestones of later ages may be seen 
 in clearly marked strata tilted up, generally, toward the 
 east, though many of the mountains reveal contortions 
 
 and faults throughout their structure, which indicate the 
 
 183 
 
,1 . 1.HP 
 
 ii 
 
 184 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 wcllnigh inconceivable forces that have here been at 
 work. 
 
 The Waputehk Mountains have remained to this day 
 but very httle known, and ahiiost totall)' unexpk^red, in 
 tlieir interior portions. No ])asses are known through 
 tills range between the Kicking Horse Pass on the south 
 and the Howse Pass on the north. Then another k^ng 
 interval northwards to the Athabasca Pass is said by the 
 Indians to offer an impassable barrier to men and horses. 
 The continuity of the range is well indicat('d by the fact 
 that, for a distance of one hundred miles, these mountains 
 present only one pass across the range available for horses. 
 The several ridges which form this range rise to a 
 very uniform altitude of 10.000 or 1 1,000 feet. On Pal- 
 liser's map of this region, one |)eak north of the Howse 
 Pass, Mount b'orbes, is accredited with an altitude of 
 13,400 feet, and the standard atlases have for many years 
 placed the altitude of Mount Brown at 16,000 feet, and 
 that of Mount Hooker at 15,700 feet, but there is much 
 reason to doubt that any mountains attain such heights 
 in this part of the Rocky Mountains. 
 
 A heavy snowfall, due to the precipitation brought 
 about by this lofty and continuous range, as the westerly 
 winds ascend and pass over it, and the existence of many 
 elevatetl plateaus, or large areas having gentle slopes, 
 have conspired to make vast ticvc regions and boundless 
 snowfields among these mountains. I'Vom the snowtields, 
 long tongues of ice and large glaciers descend into the 
 valleys, and thus drain away the surplus material from the 
 
k 
 
 The JVapittclik Range. 
 
 Looking; across the range from near Hcetor. 
 

 i 
 
 T 
 
 ( 
 
 
 I' 
 
 
 ¥ ! 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
ll^ 
 
FT fi' 
 
 I ;! 
 
 :■! ! 
 
 if ! 
 
 ;:.. 
 
 « i 
 
 !■ •■ 
 
 I 
 
 I! 
 
hf 
 
 rt 
 
 The Waputchk Range. 
 
 185 
 
 hijrhcr altitud(;s. No other parts of the Rocky Mountains, 
 south of Alaska, have glaciers and snowfields which may 
 compare in size or extent with those of the VVaputchk 
 Range. 
 
 The desolate though grand extent of gray cliffs and 
 boundless snowfields, extending farther than the eye can 
 reach, when seen from a high altitude, gives no sutmestion 
 of the delightful valleys below, where many beautiful 
 lakes nestle among the green forests, and form picturesque 
 mirrors for the surrounding rugged mountains. On the 
 shores of one of these mountain lakes, in the genial warmth 
 of lower altitudes, where the water is hemmed in, and en- 
 croached upon, by the trees and luxuriant vegetation 
 fostered by a moist climate, the explorer beholds each 
 mountain peak as the central point of interest in every 
 view. Each cliff or massive snow-covered mountain then 
 appears an unscalable height reaching upward toward the 
 heavens, — a most inspiring work of nature, raising the eyes 
 and the thoughts above the common h'.vel of our earth. 
 When seen from high altitudes, a mountain appears merely 
 as a part of a vast panorama or a single element in a wild, 
 limitless scene vof desolate peaks, which raise their bare, 
 bleak summits among the sea of mountains far up into the 
 cold regions of the atmosphere, where they become white 
 with eternal snow, and bound by rigid glaciers. 
 
 Having become much interested in reports of the vast 
 dimensions of the glaciers in the Waputehk Mountains, 
 and the beauty of the lakes, especially near the sources of 
 the Bow River and the Little Fork of the Saskatchewan, I 
 
 
f 
 
 ?m 
 
 .:■ 
 
 ^ 
 
 I 
 
 E ! 
 
 ii': 
 
 ■ ■ 1 1 
 
 .'l i 
 
 1 ; 
 
 '.1 
 
 i 
 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 iS6 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 started on August 14th, 1895, with the intention of visiting 
 those regions and spending some time there. My outfit 
 
 consisted of 
 
 ^Mk^' ^^^ horses, a 
 cook, and a 
 packer. I had 
 engaged Pey- 
 to for the lat- 
 ter service, as 
 lie had been 
 most efficient 
 'ft, on our trip to 
 Mount Assini- 
 b o i n e. W e 
 left Laggan a 
 little before 
 
 noon. Not far from the station, there commenced an old 
 tote-road, which runs northward for many miles toward the 
 source of the Bow River. This tote-road had been hastily 
 built for wagons, previous to the construction of the rail- 
 road through the Kicking Horse Pass, for at one time it 
 was thought the line would cross the range by the Howse 
 Pass. 
 
 Thus for several miles we enjoyed easy and rapid trav- 
 elling. The weather was mild and pleasant, and my men 
 seemed pleased at the prospect of another month or so in 
 camp. 
 
 In the course of a few miles we came to the house of 
 an old prospector. As r'li •. was the farthest outpost of 
 
 READY TO MARCH. 
 
 
 ilil 
 

 n 
 
 Home of a Prosj,>cctor. 
 
 iS: 
 
 civilization, and the old man was reported to be an inter- 
 estinj^^ character, I entered the log-house for a brief visit. 
 The prospector's name was Hunter. I found him at 
 home and was cordially welcomed. Here, in a state of 
 solitude and absolute loneliness, with no lake or stream to 
 entertain, and surrounded by a bristling maze of bleached 
 bare sticks looking like the masts of countless ships in a 
 great harbor, this man had spent several years of his lifi-, 
 and, moreover, was apparently happy. On his table I saw 
 spread about illustrated magazines from the United States 
 and Canada, newspapers, and books. The house was 
 roughly but comfortably finished inside, and furnished 
 with good chairs and tables evidently imported from 
 civilization. 
 
 This isolated dwelling and its solitary inhabitant 
 reminded me somewhat of Thoreau at Walden Pond. 
 Like this lover of nature, Hunter enjoys his hermit life, 
 which he varies occasionally by a visit to the village of 
 Laggan. Hunter had the better house of the two men, 
 but Thoreau must have had much more to entertain him, 
 in his garden, and the beautiful lake with its constant 
 change of light and shadow, and the surrounding forests 
 full of well-known plants and trees, where his bird and 
 animal friends lived in undisturbed possession. 
 
 No sooner had we taken leave of this interesting home 
 of the old prospector, than the trail plunged into the 
 intricacies of the burnt timber, and our horses were 
 severely tried. Peyto and another man had been at work 
 on this part of the trail for two days, very fortunately for 
 
 il 
 
wrw 
 
 I 
 
 MX 
 
 
 1 88 
 
 The CaiKulian Rockies. 
 
 ; 
 
 us. as without sonu; clearing; \vc should not have been 
 able to force our way through. 
 
 The tire had run through after the tote-road was built, 
 so that the fallen timber now rendered it nearly inipas- 
 sal)le in many places. The forest fires have been much 
 more frequent since the country has been opened by the 
 whites, but it would be; a great mistake to conclude that 
 before the arrival of civilized men the country was clothed 
 by an uninterrupted primeval forest. When we read the 
 accounts of Alexander Macktinzie, and the earliest 
 explorers in the Rocky Mountains, we find burnt timber 
 frequently mentioned. 
 
 However, these accounts only cover the last on(> hun- 
 dred years, and records of geology must be sought previous 
 to 1793. Dr. Dawson mentions a place near the How 
 Ri\er where forest trees at least one hundred years old 
 an; growing over a bed of charcoal made by an ancient 
 forest fire. Another bank near the How River, not far 
 from Hanff, reveals seven layers of charcoal, and under 
 each layer the clay is reddened or otherwise changed by 
 the heat. Thus the oldest records carr)' us back thou- 
 sands of years. The cause of these ancient fires was 
 probably, in great part, lightning, and possibly the 
 escaping camp fires of an aboriginal race of men. 
 
 Forest fires in the Canadian Rockies only prevail at 
 one season of the year — ^in July, August, and September^ 
 — when the severe heat dries up the underbrush and fallen 
 timber. Earlier than this, everything is saturated by the 
 melting snows of wii:ter, while in autumn the sharp frosts 
 

 I'orcst I "ires. 
 
 189 
 
 ami lu'avy m'Ljht dews keep tlu; forests cUun|j. Accordingly 
 to tlu: condition of the trees, a forest fire will hum some- 
 times slowly and sometimes with fearful ra[)idiiy. When 
 a lon<,f period ot dry, hot weather has [prevailed, the fire, 
 once starteil, leaps from tree to tree, while the sparks soar 
 high into tht; air ami, droppint; farMier, kindle a thousand 
 places at once. The furious uprusii of heatitd air causes 
 a strong draught, which fans the lire into a still more 
 intense heat. Sometimes whirlwinds of smoke and heated 
 air are seen above the forest fires, ami at other times the 
 great mass of vajjor and smoke rises to such a height that 
 condensation cMisues, and cloutls are formetl. in the sum- 
 mer of 1893, a forest fire was raging about live miles east 
 of Laggan. Standing at an altitude of 9000 feet, I hatl 
 a grand view of the ascending smoke and vapors, which 
 rose in the form of a great mushroom, or at other timi's 
 more like a pine tree, in fact, resembling a \olcanic erup- 
 tion. Judging by the height of Mount Temple, the clouds 
 rose about 13,000 feet above the valley, or to an altitude 
 of 18,000 feet above sea-level. It was a cumulus cloud, 
 shining brilliant in the sunlight, but often rexcaling a cop- 
 pery cast from the presence of smoke. The ascending 
 vapors gave a striking example of one of the laws of 
 rising air currents. The tendency of an ascending col- 
 umn of air is to break up into a succession of uprushes, 
 separated by brief intervals of repose, and not to rise 
 steadily and constantly. The law was clearly illustrated 
 by this cloud, which, at intervals of about five or six 
 minutes, would nearly disappear and then rapidlv 
 
 ti< 
 
 iv 
 
TT 
 
 !l I! 
 
 I 1 
 
 r 
 
 :'! 
 
 
 190 
 
 The Caiiaclian Rockies. 
 
 form aj^Miii ami rise to an immense hcij^fht and mag- 
 nitudi'. 
 
 In the course of a fc!\v years after a forest fire lias 
 swept alonjr Its ilestruclive course;, the work of regenera- 
 tion heirins, and a new crop of trees appears. .Some- 
 times the s^^rowth is alike all over the burnt region, young 
 trees s[)ringing up spontaneously everywhere, and some- 
 times the surrounding gree-n forests send out skirmishers, 
 and gradually encroach on the burnt areas. Curiously 
 enough, however, a new kind of tree replaces th( old 
 almost invariably. Out on the jjrairie the poplar usually 
 follows the coniferous trees, but in the Rockies, where the 
 poplar can not grow at high altituiles, the pinc.-s follow 
 after spruce and balsam, or rvW- versa. The contest of 
 species in nature is so keen that the slightest advantage 
 gained by any, is sufficient to cause its universal establish- 
 ment. This is probabi)- due to the fact that the soil becomes 
 somewhat exhausted in the particular elements needed by 
 one species of tree, so that when they are removed by an 
 unnatural cause, new kinds have the advantage in the 
 renewed struggle for existence. Thus wc; have a natural ro- 
 tation of crops illustrated in the replacement of forest trees. 
 
 While we have been considering the causes and effects 
 of forest fires, our horses and men have been struggling 
 with the more material side of the question, and as the 
 imagination leaps lightly over all sorts of obstacles, let us 
 now overtake them as they arrive at a good camping place 
 about eight miles from Laggan. Here the Bow is no 
 longer worthy the name of a river, but is rather a broad, 
 
 |1 
 
The Lower Bow Lake. 
 
 191 
 
 shallow stream, llowinj^Mvith motli-raU' rapiclity. 'I'owaiclH 
 evcnitij^f I't-yto shot a black cluck on the river, aiul I cauj^Hit 
 a line strin^^r of trout, so that our cani]) fare was much 
 improved. 
 
 The ne.xt clay we marched for aljout three hours 
 throu^fJi light forests and extensive swamps, final!)' pitch- 
 ing; our camp near the fir.st How Lake. The fishing was 
 remarkably fine in this part of the river. From a single 
 pool I caught, in less than three minutes, five trout which 
 averaged more than one pound each. We camped in this 
 place for two days in ordc;r to have time to explore about 
 the lake. This first How Lake is about four miles long, by 
 perhaps one mile wide, and occupies the gently curving 
 basin of a valley which here sweeps into that of the How. 
 There is something remarkable in the unusual manner in 
 which the Bow River divides itself into two streams some 
 time before it reaches this lake. The lesser of these two 
 streams continut;s in a straight course,- down the valley, 
 Yvhile the larger deviates to the west and Hows into the 
 lower end of the lake, only to flow out again about a 
 fourth of a mile farther ilown, at the extreme end of the 
 lake. The island thus formed is intersected everywhere 
 by the ancient courses of the river, which are now marked 
 by crooked and devious channels, in great part filled with 
 clear water, forming pools everywhere. This whole region 
 must have once formed part of a much larger lake, as for 
 several miles down the valley there are extensive swamps, 
 almost perfectly level and underlaid by large deposits of 
 fine clay. 
 

 I I 
 
 t« 
 
 \i : 
 
 ' u 
 
 n 
 
 192 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 The drier places in these tnuskegs are covered with a 
 growth of bushes or ckinips of trees, gathered together on 
 hummocks sHghtly elevated above the gen(>ral level. A 
 rich </rowth of j-rasi and sedsje covers the lower and 
 wetter places, which often assume all the features of a 
 peat bog, with a thick growth of s[)hagnum mosses, while 
 th(? grountl trembU-s, for many yards about, under the 
 tread of men and horses. 
 
 The next day Peyto and I crossed the river on one of 
 our best horses known as the " Hay," and after turning 
 him back tf)wards the meadow, we started on a tramp 
 around the lake. We followed the west shore for the 
 entire distance. The last half mile was over a talus slope 
 of loose stones, broken down from the overhanging moun- 
 tain, and now disposed at a very steep angle. There was 
 a barely perceptible shelf or beach about six inches wide, 
 just at the edge of the water, which we gladly took 
 advantage of while it lasted. 
 
 The glacial stream entering the lake has built out a 
 curious delta, not fan-shaped as we should expect, but 
 almost perfectly straight from shore to shore. This delta 
 is a great gravel wash, nearly level, and quite bare of 
 trees or plants, except a few herbs, the seeds of which 
 have lately been washed down from higher up the \alley. 
 All this material has been carried into the lake since the 
 time when, in the great Ice Age, these valleys were 
 flooded with glaciers several thousand feet in depth. 
 
 .\s we turned the corner near the end of the gravel 
 wash, the glaciers at the head of the valley began to 
 
 
If^ 
 
 Momif Dalv. 
 
■•!■', 
 
 f t 
 
 n 
 
I I 9- 
 
 i 
 
A Mountain Flooded with Ice. 
 
 193 
 
 appear, and in a few more steps we commanded a ma(>-nifi- 
 cent view of a great mountain, literally covered by a vast 
 sheet of ice and s.iow, from the very summit down to our 
 level. As we boked up the long gentle slope of this 
 mountain, we could hardly realize that it rose more than 
 5000 feet above us. The glacier which descended into 
 the valley was not very wide, but showed the lines of flow 
 very clearly. Six converging streams of ice united to 
 form the glacier on our right, while the glacier on the left 
 poured do vn a steep descent from the east, and formed a 
 beautiful ice cascade, where the sharp-pointed sa-acs, lean- 
 ing forward, resembled a cataract suddenly frozen and 
 rendered motionless. As if by way of contrast, a beauti- 
 ful little waterfall poured gracefully over a dark precipice 
 of rock on the opposite side of the valley, and added 
 motion to this grand expanse of dazzling white snow. 
 The loud-roaring, muddy stream near where we stood, is 
 one of the principal sources of the Bow, and, after deposit- 
 ing its milky sediment in the lake, the waters flow out 
 purified and crystal cleat , of that deep blue color charac- 
 teristic of glacial water. On a smaller scale this lake is 
 like Lake Geneva, with the Rhone entering at one end, 
 muddy and polluted with glacial clan's, and flowing out 
 at the other, transparently clear, and blue as the skies 
 above it. 
 
 After a partial ascent of Mount Rector on the next 
 day, we moved our camp and continued our progress up 
 the Bow River for about two hours. Here we cam])ed on 
 a terrace near the water, surrounded on all sides by ) vciy 
 
^m'-i^'-wnammmBm 
 
 k I: 
 
 194 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 
 lit;ht forest in a cliarmin<j^ spot. On the following day the 
 trail ietl us for two miles through some very bad country, 
 where the horses broke through the loose ground between 
 the roots of trees, and in their efforts to extricate them- 
 selves were often in great danger of breaking a leg. 
 Fortunately, however, this was not of long duration. The 
 trail soon improved and became \ery clearly marked like 
 a well made bridle-path. It led us along the banks of 
 the How, through groves of black pine, with a few spruces 
 intermingled. The ascent was constant, though gradual, 
 and our altitude was made apparent by the manner in 
 which the trees grew in clumps, and by the fact that the 
 forests were no longer densely luxuriant, but quite open, 
 so that the horses could go easily among the trees in any 
 direction. 
 
 In about three hours after leaving camp, our horses 
 entered an open meadow where the trail deserted us, but 
 there was not the slightest difficulty in making good 
 progress. To the south, a great wall of rock rose to an 
 immense height, one of the lower escarpments of the 
 VVaputehk Range, and as we progressed through the 
 pleasant moors a remarkable glacier was gradually re- 
 vealed, clinging to the cliffs in a three-pronged mass. 
 As, one by one, these branches of the glaciers were dis- 
 closed, tbey appeared first in profili'. and owing to the very 
 steep pitch down which the ice was forced to descend, 
 the glacier was rent and splintered into deep crevasse;., 
 with sharp pinnacles of ice between, which appeared to 
 lean out over the .icep descent and threaten to fall at 
 aiv moment. 
 
The Upper I^ow Lake. 
 
 195 
 
 The absence of trees to the north of us, and the 
 general depression of the country in that chrection, i^ave 
 us every indication tliat we were approachiiiL; the Upper 
 Bow Lak(.', nor were our surmises incorrect, for in a few 
 minutes more of progress, after seeing the glacier, glimpses 
 of water surface were to be had in the near distance among 
 the trees. I went ahead of our column of horses and 
 selected a beautiful site for our camp, on the shore of the 
 lake, only a few yards from the water. The surrounding 
 region was certainly the most charming I have seen in 
 the Rocky Mountains. The lake on which we camped 
 was nearly cut off from the main body of water to the 
 north, by a contraction of the shores to a narrow channel. 
 In fact, it might bt; regarded as a land-locked harbor of 
 the Upper How Lake. Just belov* our camping place the 
 waters were contracted again, and descended in a shallow 
 rapid to another lake, !!;>•; ing against the mountain side 
 on the south. This latter lake is about three or four 
 feet lower than th. others, and appeared to be about 
 two-thirds of a mile in length. 
 
 This region, for the artist with pencil and brush, 
 woukl be a fairy-land of inexhaustible treasures. The 
 shores along these various lakes were of a most irregular 
 nature, and in sweeping curves or sudden turns, formed 
 innumerable coves and bays, no less pleasing by reason 
 of their small extent. Long, low stretches of land, adorned 
 with forest trees, stretcheil straight and narrow far out 
 into the two larger hikes, their ends dissolving into chains 
 of wooded islands, separated from the mainland by shal- 
 
^'C 
 
 : I 
 
 : I 
 
 'f.(| 
 
 I 
 
 i 1 
 
 l^:'i 
 
 196 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 low channels of the clearest water. In every direction 
 were cliarminjj^ vistas of wooded isles and bushy shores, 
 while in the distance were the irreafular outlines of the 
 mountains, their imat^es often reflected in the surface of 
 the water. The very nature of the shores themselves, 
 besides their irregular contours, varied from place to place 
 in a remarkable manner. In one locality the waters 
 became suddenly deep, the abrupt shores were rocky, and 
 formed low cliffs ; in other places the bottom shelved off 
 more gradually, and there would be a narrow beach of 
 sand and small pebbles, ofttimes strewed with the wreck- 
 age of some storm, — a massive tree trunk washed upon 
 the beach, or stranded in shallow water near the shore. 
 
 There were, moreover, many shallow areas and 
 swampy tracts where a rich, rank growth of water grasses 
 and sedges extended into the lake. Such border regions 
 between the land and water were perhaps the most 
 beautiful and attractive of all the many variations of 
 these deligjitful shores. The coarse, saw-edged leaves 
 of the sedges, harsh to the touch, are pliant in the 
 gentlest breath of wind. The waving meadows of green 
 banners, or ribbons, rising above the water, uniform in 
 height, and sensitive to the slightest air motion, rustle 
 continuously as the breezes sweep over them, and rub 
 their rough surfaces together. 
 
 From this region, wherein were combined so many 
 charming views of nature, with mountain scenery, lakes, 
 islands, and forests, all of the most attractive kind, it 
 proved impossible to move our camp for several days. 
 
 U! 
 
upper Bo7o Lake. 
 
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Excursions. 
 
 •97 
 
 Durinij the time that we remained here, our explora- 
 tions and wanderinjrs took us aIon<,^ all the shores and 
 islands, and up the nei<rhbo-inji^ mountain slopes. On 
 one of the islands opposite our camp we discovered a 
 small pool of singular formation. The pool was nearly 
 circular, and about ten yards in diameter. The bottom 
 was funnel-shaped, and in the very centre was a black 
 circle — in fact a bottomless hole — apparently connected 
 by dark subterranean channels with the depths of the 
 adjacent lake. Its borders were low^ and swampy, where 
 the sponij^y t^^round quaked as we moved about, and 
 trembled so much that we feared at any moment to be 
 swallowed up. In fact the whole pool became rippled by 
 the movements of its banks. 
 
 The glacier opposite was the object of another trip, 
 and this, too, proved interesting. The neve on the flat 
 plateau above discharges its surplus ice for the most part 
 by hanging glaciers, which from time to time break off 
 and fall down the precipice. We were often startled 
 both day and night by the thunder of these avalanches. 
 Two tongues of ice, however, effect a descent of the 
 precipice where the slope is less steep, and though much 
 crevassed and splintered by the rapid motion, they reach 
 the bottom intact. Here the two streams, together with 
 the accumulations of ice constantly falling down from 
 above, become welded into a single glacier, which ter- 
 minates only a short distance from the lake. The most 
 unusual circumstance about this glacier is the fact that 
 the ice is much higher at the very end than a little 
 
 
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 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 farther back, so that a threat, swelhiiji^ mound of ice, 
 about 200 feet thick, forms the termination. 
 
 About one fourth of a mile below the end of the 
 glacier, on an old moraine ridge now covered over with 
 luxuriant forest, we saw a towering cliff of rock rising 
 above the trees. This proved, on a closer examination, 
 to be a separate boulder, which must have been carried 
 there by the ice a long time ago. It was of colossal pro- 
 portions, at least sixty feet high, and nearly as large in 
 its other dimensions. From the top we had an extensive 
 view of the lakes and valleys ; while at its base we found 
 on one side an overhanging roof, making so complete a 
 shelter, that it was not difficult to imagine this place to 
 have been used by savages, in some past age, as a cave 
 dwelling. 
 
 Many years ago, not less than one hundred, the forests 
 on the slopes to the east of the valley had been devas- 
 tated by a fire. The long lapse of time intervening had, 
 however, nearly obliterated the dreary effects of this 
 destruction. The trees hail replaced themselves scatter- 
 ingly among the dead timber, and attained a large size. 
 The fallen trunks showed the great length of time they 
 had lain on the ground by the spongy, decomposed con- 
 dition of the wood. Many of the trunks had dissolved 
 into red humus, the last stage of slowly decomposing 
 wood, and the fragments were disposed in lines, bare of 
 vegetation, indicating where each tree had found its final 
 resting-place. 
 
 The swampy shores and large extent of water surface 
 
 V\'- 
 
Insect Life. 
 
 199 
 
 I i 
 
 in this region fostered many varieties of ji;nats, mosqui- 
 toes, and other insects, though, fortunately, not in such 
 great numbers as to be very troublesome. In fact, the 
 season of the year was approaching that period when the 
 mosquitoes suddenly and regularly disappear, for some 
 unexplained n.ason. I have always noticed that in the 
 Canadian Rockies the mosquitoes become much reduced 
 in numbers between th^; 15th and 20th of August, and 
 after that time cause little or no trouble. In order, how- 
 ever, that there may be no lack of insect pests, nature 
 has substituted several species of small flies and midgets, 
 which appear about this time and follow in a rotation of 
 species, till the sharp frosts of October put an end to all 
 active insect life. Some of these small pests are no less 
 troublesome than the mosquitoes which have preceded 
 them, though they afford a variation in their manner of 
 annoyance, and are accordingly the more endurable. 
 
 Along the reedy shores of the lake and sometimes 
 over its placid surface, when the air was quiet toward 
 evening, we often saw clouds of gnats hovering motion- 
 less in one spot, or at times moving restlessly from place 
 to place, like some lightless will-o'-the-wisp, composed of 
 a myriad of black points, darting and circling one about 
 another. Nature seems to love circular motion : for just 
 as the stars composing the cloudy nebulae revolve about 
 their centres of gravity in infinite numbers, moving for- 
 ever, through an infinity of space ; so do these ephemeral 
 creations of our world pass their brief lives in a ceaseless 
 vortex of complicated circles. 
 
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 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 O.i one occasion we built a raft to ferry us across the 
 narrow part of the lake so that we might try the fishing 
 on the farther side. The raft was hastily constructed, 
 and, after we had reached deep water, it proved to fee in a 
 state of stable equilibrium only when the upper surface 
 was a yard under water. After a thorough wetting we 
 finally reached the shore, and proceeded to build a more 
 trustworthy craft. 
 
 On the 2 1 St of August we moved our camp down to 
 the north end of the lake. Here the nature of the scenery 
 is entirely changed. Whereas the lower end of the lake 
 abounds in land-locked channels and wooded islands, so 
 combined as to make the most pleasing and artistic pic- 
 tures from every shore, the other part of this lake pre- 
 sents regular shore lines, and everything is formed on a 
 more extensive scale. The north side of the lake is 
 curved in a great arc, so symmetrical in appearance that 
 it seems mathematically perfect, and the eye sweeps along 
 several miles of shore at a single glance as though this 
 were some bay on the seacoast. 
 
 As we neared the north end of the lake, a valley was 
 disclosed toward the west, and an immense glacier ap- 
 peared descending from the crest of the Waputehk Range. 
 Even at a distance of three or four miles, this glacier 
 revealed its great size. The lower part descended in 
 several regular falls to nearly the level of the lake. In 
 the lower part, the glacier is less than a mile in width, but 
 above, the ice stream expands to three or four miles, and 
 extends back indefinitely, probably ten miles or more. 
 
 
 
upper Bow Lake. 
 
 Looking west. 
 
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Companions. 
 
 201 
 
 This Great Bow (ilacicr had the same position rehiti\cly 
 to the lake, as the glacier we visited at the Lower IJovv 
 Lake held to that body of water. 
 
 A better knowledge of these lakes revealed a striking 
 similarity between them. Each lake occupies a curving 
 valley, which in each case enters the Bow valley from the 
 south. The two lakes are about the same size and 
 nearly the same shape, a long gentle curve about five 
 times longer than broad. At the head of each, though 
 at slightly different distances, are large glaciers. The 
 glacial streams have likewise formed flat gravel washes, 
 or deltas, which have encroached regularly on the lake 
 and formed a straight line from shore to shore, perfectly 
 similar one to another. A further resemblance might be 
 observed in the presence of two talus slopes from the 
 mountain sides, in each case on the south side; of the 
 lake, near the delta. The Lower Bow Lake is about 
 5500 feet above sea-level, while the upper lake is a little 
 more than 6000 feet. The increased altitude has the 
 efTect of making the forest more open, and the country 
 more generally accessible, in the region of the upper lake. 
 From one point on the shores of the upper lake, five 
 large glaciers may be counted, the least of which is two 
 miles long, and the greatest has an unknown extent, but is 
 certainly ten miles in length. 
 
 Our camp was pleasantly located in the woods not 
 far from the water. After Peyto had put up the tent 
 and got the camp in order, with the horses enjoying a fine 
 pasture, he set ofT to explore the lake shore toward the 
 
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 'I'lu' CaiKulian Rockies. 
 
 Circat (ilacicr. 1 1 1: returned to cami) about five o'clock 
 carryinj^f a fine lake trout wliiih he luul lau^lit. This fish 
 
 was taken 
 near the shore, 
 and was prob- 
 ably a small 
 one compared 
 with those 
 which live in 
 deeper water ; 
 nevertheless, 
 it measured 
 twenty - three 
 inches in 
 len_Ljth, and 
 w e i j^ h e d 
 about seven 
 pounds. The How lakes have a reputation for abounding; 
 in fish of a \ery lari^e size. So far as I am aware, no 
 boat has ever sailed these waters, and there is no cer- 
 tainty what size the fish may reach in the deeper parts of 
 the lake. Judging,'' by trout which have been cauijjht in 
 Lake ISIinnewatika, near Banff, it is very probable that 
 they run as high as thirty or forty pounds. 
 
 The next day, Peyto and I took a lunch with us and 
 spent the entire day exploring and photographing the 
 glacier and its immediate neighborhood. The ice is not 
 hemmed in b)- any terminal moraine, but shelves down 
 gradually to a thin edge. In fact the termination of 
 
 CAMP AT UPPER BOW LAKE. 
 
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 The (ircat Bow Cilacicr. 
 
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 the ^dacicr risimhlcs somewhat the hoof of a horse, or 
 rather tliat of a rhinoceros, the clivided portions heinjf 
 formed by crevasses, while h)nji^ thin projections of ice 
 spread out between. It is a very easy matter to j^et 
 on the j^dacier, ami ([uite safe to proceed a \on^ way 
 on its smooth surface. We had some fine glimpses 
 of crevasses so deep that it was impossible to see the 
 bottom, while the rich blue color of the ice everywhere 
 revealed to us marvels of colored jj;rottoes and hollow- 
 soundin^r caverns, their sitles drippin_ij with the surface 
 waters. There is somethin*; peculiarly attractive, perhaps 
 from the dan^^er, pertaininn^ to a dec p t; i ^ assc in a j^dacier. 
 Oik.' stands near the edi^e and throws, or pushes, larijc 
 stones into these caverns, and listens in awe to the hollow 
 echoes from the depths, or the muuled splash as the mis- 
 sile finally reaches a pool of water at the bottom. There 
 is a su^j^estion of a lingerint^ death, should one makt; a 
 false step and fall down these horrible crevasses, where, 
 wedj^'ed between icy walls far below the surface, one could 
 see the glimmerint;- light of day above, while starvation 
 and cold prolong their agonies. A party of three moun- 
 taineers thus lost their lives on Mount Blanc in 1820, and 
 more than forty years later their bodies were found at the 
 foot of the Glacier des Bossons, whither they had been 
 slowly transported, a distance of several miles, by the 
 movement of the ice. The most dangerous cre\'asses are 
 not those of the so-called "dry glacier," where the bare ice is 
 everywhere visible, but those of the hitv regions where the 
 crevasses are concealed, or obscured by the overlying snow. 
 
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 204 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 Not far from the foot of the i^lacier the muddy stream 
 flows thr()u<;h a mM;iature canyon, with walls near together, 
 cut out of a limestone formation. The water here rushes 
 some quarter of a mile, foaming and angry, as it dashes 
 over many a fall and cascade. Where the canyon is deep- 
 est an immense block of limestone about twenty-five feet 
 long has fallen down, and with either end resting on the 
 canyon walls, it affords a natural bridge over the gloomy 
 chasm. As probably no human being had ever crossed 
 this bridge, we felt a slight hesitation in making the 
 attempt, fearing that even a slight jar might be sufficient 
 to dislodge the great mass. It proved, however, quite 
 safe and will undoubtedly remain where it is for many 
 years and afford a safe crossing-place for those who visit 
 this interesting region. 
 
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 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Sources of the liou<~Thc Little For/; /'ass — Mas^nifieetue of the 
 Scenery — Mount Murehison — Camp on /.' • J^ividi — A J/i,i:;h Afonnfain 
 Ascent — Future of the Jioic Lakes — Return itown the Bo;. ■ — Search for a 
 J'ass — Remarkable Agility of Pack- Horses— The ''Bay " (///(/ the '' Pinto " 
 — Mountain Solitudes — Mount Hector — DiJJicult Nature of yohnston 
 Creek — A Blinding:: Sno^v-Stomi— Forty-Mile Creek — Afount Fdith Bass. 
 
 AP^INE trout stream entered the lake near our camp. 
 This was, in fact, the Bow River, It held a mean- 
 derinjj^ course a short distance before enterinj^ 
 the lake, throui^h a level meadow, or rather an open 
 region, thickly grown over with alder bushes and other 
 shrubby plants. 
 
 We were delayed at this camp by a period of unsettled 
 weather with occasional storms and strong winds, so that 
 three days were required to finish our explorations. At 
 length, on the 24th of August, we broke camp, and fol- 
 lowed the Bow valley northwards towards the source of the 
 river. The valley preserves its wide character to the head 
 of the pass and is unusual among all the mountain passes 
 for several reasons. The ascent to the summit is very grad- 
 ual and constant, the valley is wide, and the country is 
 quite open. In about two hours we came to the summit, 
 and, after a long level reach, the slope insensibl)' changed 
 and tlie direction of drainage was reversed. 
 
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 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 This was a most delightful region. The smooth valley 
 bottom sloped gradually upward toward the mountains on 
 the east and west, and insensibly downward toward the 
 valleys north and south, thus making an extensive region 
 with gentle slopes curving in two directions, which in some 
 way impresses the mind with a sense of quiet grandeur 
 and indefinite liberty. Hut chiefly this region of the divide 
 is made charming by a most beautiful arrangement of the 
 trees. There are no forests here, nor do the trees grow 
 much in groves or clum[)s, but each tree stands apart, at 
 a long interval from every other,, so that the branches 
 spread out symmetrically in every direction and give per- 
 fect forms and beautiful outlines. Between are smooth 
 meadows, quite free of brush, but crowded with flowering 
 plants, herbs, and grasses, so that the general impression 
 is that of a gentleman's park, under the control and care 
 of a landscape gardener, rather than of the undirected 
 efforts of nature. 
 
 I shall never forget the first view we had into the 
 valley of the Saskatchewan. Approaching a low ridge 
 at the south side of the valley, suddenly there is re- 
 vealed a magnificent panorama of glaciers, lakes, and 
 mountains, unparalleled among the Canadian Rockies for 
 its combination of grandeur and extent. To the south, 
 one beholds the end of an immense glacier, at the termi- 
 nation of which there are two great arched caverns in the 
 ice. From out these issue two roaring glacial streams, 
 the source of the Saskatchewan River, or at least of its 
 longest tributary called the Little Fork. Lofty mountains 
 
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Source of tlic Little I^ork of the 
 Saskatcheivan River. 
 
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The Little T^ork Pass. 
 
 207 
 
 hem in this glacier on either side, only revealing a portion 
 of the vast neve which may be seen extending southward 
 for six or seven miles. 
 
 To the north and, as it were, at our feet, though in 
 reality a thousand feet below, lay a large and beautiful 
 lake with irregular outlines. This lake reaches several 
 miles down the valley of the Little Fork, which here 
 extends northward so straight and regular, that the view 
 is only limited at the distance of thirty miles by the long 
 range of mountains on its east side. Ur. Hector, who 
 came through this region in the fall of ICS58, comments 
 on the magnificent extent and grandeur of this view. 
 
 Through a notch in a mass of mountains to the north, 
 there appeared the extreme summit of Mount Murchison, 
 a very sharp and angular rock peak, which the Indians 
 regard as the highest mountain of the Canadian Rockies. 
 According to some rough angles taken by Dr. Hector, 
 this mountain has an altitude of 13,500 feet. In Palliser's 
 Papers a sketch of this mountain, as seen from the sum- 
 mit of the Pipestone Pass, makes the rock peak much 
 more sharp and striking in appearance even than that 
 of Mount Assiniboine, or of Mount Sir Donald in the 
 Selkirks. 
 
 We continued our journey over the pass and descended 
 into the valley of the Little Fork for several miles. The 
 trail was very good, though the descent was remarkably 
 steep. We camped by a small narrow lake, in reality 
 merely an expansion of the Little Fork. Behind us was 
 an area of burnt timber, but southward the forests were 
 
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 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 in their primeval vij^or and the mountains rose to impres- 
 sive 'jeights above. The weather became rather (hil)ioiis, 
 and during the niglit there was a fall of rain, followed by 
 colder weather, so that our tent became frozen stiff by 
 
 morning. 
 
 It seemed best to return the next day to the summit of 
 the pass, where everything conspired to make an ideal 
 camping place. Accordingly, the men packed the horses 
 and we located our camp on the crest of the divide, 6350 
 feet above sea-level. The tent was pitched in a clump of 
 large trees surrounded on all sides by open meadows, 
 where one could wander for long distances without en- 
 countering rough ground or underbrush. Near the camp 
 a small stream, and several pools of clear water, were all 
 easily accessible. 
 
 The next day I induced Peyto to ascend a mountain 
 with me. He was not used to mountain climbing, and 
 had never been any higher than the ridge that we were 
 compelled to cross when we were walking around Mount 
 Assiniboine, which was less than 9000 feet in altitude. 
 The peak which I had now in view lay just to the north- 
 east from our camp on the pass. It appeared to be 
 between 9000 and 10,000 feet high, and offered no 
 apparent difficulties, on the lower part at least. We left 
 camp at 8:30 am. and passed through some groves of 
 spruce and balsam, where we had the good fortune to see 
 several grouse roosting among the branches of the trees. 
 Peyto soon brought them down with his six-shooter, in 
 handling which he always displays remarkable accuracy 
 
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 and skill. Many a liiut;, when on the trail. I have seen 
 him suddenly take his six-shooter and fire into a tall tret.', 
 whereupon a j^n.use \vt)uld come tumhlinjL; dovvr., with his 
 neck seven^d, or his head knocked off by t\u: bullet. 
 
 ;\ hawk sciMited our j^ame and came soarinjL^ above us 
 so that we had to hide our birds under a coverini^ of stones, 
 as of course \\r. did not care to take them with us up the 
 mountain. We found not the slij^htest difficulty in the 
 ascent till \\v. came near the; summit. riii; atmosphere 
 was remarkably clear, and some clouds hij.,di above the 
 mountains remlered the; conditions very good for photoj^- 
 raphy. At an altitudi; of gSoo feet we came to the sum- 
 mit of the trr<'/t' which we were climbinjr, and saw the 
 highest point of the; mountain about one-ihird of a mile 
 distant, and considerably higlur. I'ortunately, a crest of 
 snow connected the two [)eaks, and with my ice-axe I 
 knocked away th«' sharp edge.-, and made a path. In a 
 few minutes we were across the difficult part and found 
 an easy slope rising gradually to the summit. We reached 
 it at 1 1 -.7,0, and found the altitude 10,125 f*-'^^- 1 1''^' view 
 from the great snow dome of this unnamed mountain was 
 truly magnificent. The Waputehk Range could be seen 
 through an extent of more than seventy-five miles, while 
 some of the most distant peaks of tht; Selkirks must have 
 been more than one hundred miles from where we stood. 
 To the cast about ten miles was the high peak of Mount 
 Hector, almost touching the clouds. 
 
 In the northern part of the Waputehk Range we saw 
 some very high peaks, though the clouds covered every- 
 
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 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
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 thing above 1 1 ,000 feet. There seemed to be a storm in 
 that direction, as snow could be discerned falHng on the 
 mountains about thirty miles distant. The general uni- 
 formity of height, and the absence of unusually high peaks, 
 a characteristic feature of the Canadian Rockies, were very 
 clearly revealed from this mountain. 
 
 Feyto was overwhelmed with the magnificent pano- 
 rama, and said that he now appreciated, as never before, 
 the mania which impels men to climb mountains. The 
 storm which we saw in the west and north passed over 
 us toward evening, in the form of gentle showers. On the 
 next day, however, the weather was perfectly clear and calm. 
 
 On the 26th of August our horses were packed and 
 our little procession was in motion early in the morning, 
 and we were wending our way down the Bow River. I 
 cannot take leave of this region, however, even in imagi- 
 nation, without a word in regard to the unusual attractive- 
 ness of this part of the mountains. 
 
 In the first place there are magnificent mountains and 
 glaciers to interest the mountaineer, and beautiful water 
 scenes, with endless combinations of natural scenery for 
 the artist ; moreover, the streams abound in brook trout 
 and the lakes are full of large lake trout, so numerous as 
 to afford endless sport for fishermen. The botanist, the 
 geologist, and the general lover of science will likewise 
 find extensive fields of inquiry open to him on every side. 
 
 The time of travelling required by us to reach the 
 Upper Bow Lake was about nine hours, and this was with 
 heavily laden pack-horses. Hitherto, only those con- 
 
Moiuit Hector and Slate Mountains. 
 
 From summit of a mountain near I.ittle Fork I'ass, /o,/2j feet in 
 
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Visions of the Future. 
 
 21 I 
 
 nected with the early explorations, or the railroad surveys, 
 have visited this lake, but I cannot look forward to the 
 future without conjuring up a vision of a far different 
 condition of things. In a few years, if I mistake not. a 
 comfortable building, erected in a tasteful and artistic 
 manner, will stand near the shores of this lake on some 
 beautiful site. A steam launch and row-boats or canoes 
 will convey tourists and fishermen over the broad waters 
 of the lake, and a fine coach road will connect this place 
 with Laggan, so that passengers may leave Banff in the 
 morning and, after a ride of two hours by railroad, they 
 will be transferred to a coach and reach the Upper Bow 
 Lake in time for lunch ! If a good road were constructed 
 this would not be impossible, as the distance from Laggan 
 is only about twenty miles, and the total ascent looo feet. 
 
 With such visions of the future and the more vivid 
 memory of recent experiences in mind, we took leave of 
 the beautiful sheet of water, and continued on our way 
 down the Bow valley. It was not our purpose, ho- ever, 
 to return to Laggan directly, for Wilson had planned an 
 elaborate route, by which some of the wilder parts of the 
 mountains might be visited. This route would lead us 
 over a course of about eighty or one hundred miles 
 through the Slate Mountains and Sawback Range, and 
 eventually bring us to Banff. 
 
 We were to follow a certain stream that enters the 
 Bow from the .lorth, but as we were now, and had been 
 for many days, outside the region covered by Dawson's 
 map, it was impossible to feel certain which stream we 
 
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 21 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 should take. On our way up the Bow River, Peyto had 
 made explorini:^ excursions into several tributary valleys, 
 but in every case these had proved to be hemmed in by 
 precipitous mountain walls, and guarded at the ends by 
 impassable cliffs or larij^e glaciers. 
 
 The second day after leaving the lake we came to a 
 larofe stream which had not been examined hitherto. 
 Though we were far from certain that this was the stream 
 that had been indicated by Wilson, it seemed best to 
 follow up the valley and see where we should come out. 
 After ascending an exceedingly steep bank, we found easy 
 travelling in a fairly open valley. One fact made us ap- 
 prehensive that there was no pass out of the valley. 
 There was no sign of a trail on either side of the stream, 
 and none of the trees were blazed. Indian trails exist in 
 almost every valley where an available pass leads over the 
 summit, and where there are no trails the probability is 
 that the valley is blind, or, in other words, leads into an 
 impassable mountain wall. The valley curved around in 
 such a manner that we could not tell what our prospects 
 were, but at about two o'clock we reached a place far 
 above timber line, — a region of open moors, absolutely 
 treeless, — surrounded by bare mountains on every side. 
 
 Our tent was pitched in a ravine near a small stream. 
 Immediately after lunch, Peyto and I ascended looo 
 feet on a mountain north of the valley with the pur- 
 pose of discovering a pass. From this point we saw 
 Mount Hector due south, and the remarkable mountain 
 named Mount Molar, nearly due east. Three possible 
 
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 outlets from the vaik-y appeared frt)in our hi^li elevation. 
 Peyto set off alone to explore a pass toward the north, 
 in the direction of the Pipestone Pass, while I mach; an 
 examination of a notch toward the east. Each [jroved 
 impossible for horses, if not for human beinjj^s. The third 
 notch lay in the direction of Mount Hector, and tom;ther 
 we set out to e.xainine it. A walk of about two miles 
 across the rollintj uplands of this hij^di region brought us 
 to the pass. It was very steep, but an old Indian trail 
 proved that the pass was available for horses. The trail 
 appeared more like those made by tiie mountain goats 
 than by human beings, for it led up to a very rough and 
 forbidding cliff, where loose stones and long disust; had 
 nearly obliterated the path. We spent some time putting 
 the trail in repair, by rolling down tons of loose stones, 
 and making everything as secure as possible. 
 
 The next morning was threatening, and gray, watery 
 clouds hung only a little above the summit of the lofty 
 pass, which was nearly 8000 feet above sea-level. I 
 started about an hour before the outfit, as I desired to ob- 
 serve the horses climbing the trail. I felt considera- 
 ble anxiety as they approached. All my photographic 
 plates, the result of many excuriiions and mountain as- 
 cents in a region where the camera had never before 
 been used, were placed on one of the horses, for which 
 purpose one of the most sure-footed animals had been 
 selected. In case of a false step and a roll down the 
 mountain side, the results of all this labor would be lost. 
 
 The horses, however, all reached the summit in safety. 
 

 I I 
 
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 it 
 
 
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 i' 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 '1' 
 
 
 i 
 
 214 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 Tht'S*.' mouiUiiiii pack-horses n-vcal a wonckjrful a_t,nhty 
 and sa^nicity in such {lifficiihics as this place preseiued. 
 In fact, the several animals in my pack-train had become 
 old friends, for they had been with me all summer. I*eyto, 
 as packer, always rode in tht; saddle, for the di^jnity of 
 this office nev(;r allows a packt;r to walk, and besides, from 
 their physical elevation on a horse's back they can bett(T 
 discern the trail. A venerable Indian steed, lon}^f-let,fged 
 and lean, but most useful in fording deep streams, was 
 Ptiyto's saddle-horse. Tlu; bell-mare followed ne.\t, led 
 by a head-rope. The other horses followed in sinijle file, 
 and never allow(;d the sound of the bell to get out of hear- 
 ing. There were two horses in the train that were en- 
 dowed with an unusual amount of ecjuine intelligence and 
 sagacity. The larger of the two was known as the 
 
 "Bay." and 
 the other was 
 called " Pin- 
 to," the latter 
 being a name 
 given to all 
 horses having 
 1 r r e g u 1 a r 
 whit(! mark- 
 ings. These 
 animals were 
 well propor- 
 tioned, with thick necks and broa-i chests, and, though 
 of Indian stock, th(;y probably had some infusion of 
 
 THE BAY." 
 
 fri 
 
 m 
 
 ii 
 
 I 
 
Intelligence of Pack Horses. 
 
 ^'5 
 
 Spanish blood in their veins, derived from the conciucst 
 of Mexico. 
 
 The Pinto was reniarkahl)- (jiiick in selecting the liest 
 routes amonjr fallen timber, or in avoidinj^^ hidden dangers, 
 but the Hay was far more affectionate and fond of human 
 company. In camp, all the horses would frecjuently leave 
 the pasture anil visit the tent, where they wouKl stand 
 near the fire to get the benefit of the smoke when the Hies 
 were thick, or nose about in the hope of getting some salt. 
 On the trail, it was always very interesting to watch the 
 Bay and Pinto. They would unravel a pathway through 
 burnt timber in a better manner than their human leaders, 
 and would calculate in every case whether it were better 
 to jump over a log or to walk around it. But one day I 
 was surprised to see the Bay jump over a log which 
 measured 3 feet 10 inches above the ground. With a 
 heavy, rigid pack this is more of a feat than to clear a 
 much greater height with a rider in the saddle. Sometimes 
 when the trail was lost we would put the Pinto ahead to 
 lead us, and on several occasions he found the trail for us. 
 The summit of the pass revealed to us one of those 
 lonely places among the high mountains where silence 
 appears to reign supreme. We were in an upland vale, 
 where the ground was smooth and rolling, and car[)eted 
 with a short growth of grass and herbs. On eithfn" side 
 were bare cliffs of limestone, unrelieved by vegetation or 
 perpetual snow. Here no birds or insects broke the silence 
 of the mountain solitude, no avalanche thundered among 
 the mountains, and even the air was calm and made no 
 
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 ■ ■■!; 
 
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 1 , 
 
 2l6 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 sound in the scanty hcrbaj^e. All was silent as the desert, 
 or as the ocean in a perfect calm. The dull tramp of our 
 horses, and the tinklinijf of the bell, were the only sounds 
 that interrupted the death-like quiet of the place. It is 
 said that such places soon drive the lost traveller to in- 
 sanity, but in company with others these lonely passes 
 afford a delightful contrast to the life and motion and 
 sound of lower altitudes. 
 
 As we advanced and commenced to descend, the north 
 side of Mount Hector began to appear. It was completely 
 covered with a great ice sheet and snow fields. Mount 
 Hector is a little more than ii.ooo feet in altitude, and 
 gives a good example of how the exposure to the sun 
 affects the size of glaciers in t'^ese mountains. On the 
 south and west sides of Mount Hector there is almost no 
 snow, while the opposire slopes are flooded by a broad 
 glacier many miles in area, and brilliant in a covering of 
 perpetual snow. 
 
 At the tree line a trail appeared, and led us in rapid 
 descent lu the valley. The scenery on all sides was 
 magnificent. Many waterfalls came dashing down from 
 the melting glaciers of Mount Hector and joined a torrent 
 in the valley bottom. The great cliffs about us, and the 
 lofty mountains, visible here and there through avenues in 
 the giant forest trees, were illumined by a brilliant sun, 
 ever now and again breaking through the clouds. About 
 eleven o'clock we stopped to have a light lunch, as was our 
 custom wii all long marches. Peyto loosed the girdle of 
 the horses, slipped ofT the jjacks, and turned the animals 
 
Little Pipestone Creek. 
 
 21 7 
 
 into a meadow near by. Meanwhile our cook cut fire- 
 wood and made a larjre pot of tea, which always proved 
 the most acceptable drink when a louij^ march had made 
 us somewhat weary. These brief rests of about forty 
 minutes in the midst of a daj's march always proved very 
 beneficial to men and horses. 
 
 A long straight valley led us southwards for many 
 miles. In every clear pool or stream, trout could be seen 
 darting about and seeking hiding-places, though we had 
 no time to stop and catch them. At about one o'clock we 
 reached the Pipestone Creek and obtained a view of 
 Mount Temple and other familiar peaks about fifteen 
 miles to the south. 
 
 We camped near the stream in a meadow, not far from 
 the Little Pipestone Creek, As the march of this day 
 had brought us back to the region covered by the map, we 
 had little apprehension of losing our way in the future. 
 
 The next day we followed up the Little Pipestone 
 Creek and enjoyed a fine trail through a dense forest. 
 We camped near the summit of a pass south of Mount 
 Macoun, which I partially ascended after lunch. The 
 rugged peak named Mount IJouglas lay due east, and 
 presented some very large and fine glaciers. 
 
 Our camp was on a little peninsula jutting out into a 
 lake, with water of a most l)rilliant blue color. The sun- 
 set colors this evening were heightened by the presence of 
 a little smoke in the atmosphere, which gave a deep 
 copper color to the western sky, while the placid lake 
 appeared vividly blue in the evening Hght. 
 
rar- 
 
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 218 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 The following- day, which was the first of September, 
 we continued south over a divide and into the valley of 
 Baker Creek, which we followed for several hours, and 
 then took a branch stream which comes in from the 
 east, and finally camped in a high valley. We were now in 
 the Sawback Range, where the mountains are peculiarly 
 rugged, and the strata thrown up at high angles. The 
 weather was giving evidence of an approaching storm, 
 and before we had made camp the next day in Johnston's 
 Creek, rain began to fall. 
 
 Hitherto the nature of the country since leaving the 
 Upper Bow Lake had been such as to render the travel- 
 ling very easy and delightful, but from this point on, 
 we met with all sorts of difficulties. In the lower part of 
 Johnston's Creek, and in the valley of a tributary which 
 comes in from the northeast, the trail was covered by 
 fallen timber, and our progress was very slow and tedious. 
 Moreover, the weather now became very bad, and we 
 were caught near the summit of a pass between Baker 
 Creek and Forty-Mile Creek in a heavy snow-storm, so 
 that the trail was soon obliterated and the surrounding 
 mountains could not be seen. Fearing that we mitrht 
 lose our bearings altogether, Peyto urged forward the 
 horses at a gallop, so that \\'c might get over the pass 
 before the snow gained much depth. 
 
 The descent into the valley of P'orty-Mile Creek was 
 very steep, aiid we camped among some large trees with 
 several inches of snow on the ground. The next daj' we 
 urged our horses on again and followed down the valley 
 
 \ 
 
Mount Edith Pass. 
 
 2 19 
 
 
 of Forty-Mile Creek. In some parts of the valley we 
 found absolutely the worst travelling I have anywhere 
 met with in the Rockies. The horses were compelled to 
 make long detours among the dead timber, and the axe 
 was frequently required to cut out a passage-way. Vre- 
 quent snow showers swept through the valley, and, 
 though very beautiful to look at, they kept the under- 
 brush covered with damp snow and saturated our clothes 
 with water. 
 
 In the afternoon we reached the summit of the Mount 
 Edith Pass, and once more caught sight of the Bow 
 valley and the Hat meadows near Banff. A fine wide 
 trail or bridle-path, smooth and hard, led us down toward 
 the valley. The contrast to our recent trails was very 
 striking. We walked between a broad avenue of trees, 
 each one blazed to such an extent that all the bark 
 had been removed on one side of the tree, and some 
 were practically girdled. This was very different from 
 our recent experience where we had only found a small 
 insignificant a.xe-mark on some dead tree, about once in 
 every quarter mile, or often none at all during hours of 
 progress. 
 
 On the fifth of September we reached Banff late in 
 the evening, and found that the valley was free of new 
 snow by reason of its lower altitude. We had been out 
 for twenty-three days and had covered, in all, about one 
 hundred and seventy-five mi'.e.s. 
 
!i 
 
 CHAPTER Xlll. 
 
 IIISTOKICAI.. 
 
 !, II 
 
 'I i 
 
 I'll 
 
 ^i! ' 
 
 1 
 
 n \ 
 
 Origin and Rise of the Fur TraJi — 7 he Coiiretirs ties Bois and the 
 Voyageurs — Perils of the Canoe Voyages — The Hudson Bay Conipanv and 
 the Northwest Conipo'iv — Intense Biz airy — Dotvnfall of the Northwest 
 Company — Sir Aiexa,, ' *" kenzie—His Character and Physical En- 
 dowments — Cook's Expi /IS — Mackenzie Starts to Penetrate the 
 Rockies — The Peace River — A Marvellous Escape — The Pacific Reached 
 by Land — Per its of the Sea and of the Wilderness. 
 
 THE history of the early explorations in the Cana- 
 dian Rockies centres about the fur trade. From 
 the date of the very earliest settlements in Canada, 
 the quest of furs had occupied a position of chief impor- 
 tance, to which the pursuits of agriculture, grazing, or 
 manufacture had been subordinate. The search for j^old, 
 which throughout the history of the world has ever been 
 one of the most powerful incentives to hardy adventure 
 and daring exploit, did not at first occupy the attention of 
 those who were ready to hazard their lives for the sake of 
 possible wealth quickly acquired. 
 
 The unremitting and often ruthless destruction of the 
 fur-bearing animals, in the immediate vicinity of the settle- 
 ments, caused them to become exceedingly scarce, and at 
 
 length to disappear altogether. Hut fortunately it was not 
 
 220 
 
r 
 
 Voyag"eurs. 
 
 2 2 1 
 
 difficult to induce the Indians to bring their furs from 
 more distant regions, until at length even those who lived 
 in the most remote parts of Canada became accustomed to 
 barter their winter catch at the settlements. 
 
 As the trade gradually became more extensive, there 
 sprang up two slightly different classes of men, the 
 courcurs dcs bois, or wood rangers, and the voyagcurs, 
 each of Canadian birth, but who, by reason of constant 
 contact with the Indians and long-continued separation 
 from the amenities and refinements of civilized life, came 
 at length to have more in common with the rude savages, 
 than with the French settlers from whom they were sprung. 
 Many of these wilderness wanderers married Indian wives, 
 and, moreover, their pbstic nature, a result of their 
 French extraction, helped ihem quickly to assume the 
 manners and customs of the swarthy children of the 
 forest. The voyagcurs, like the coureurs des bois, were 
 accustomed to take long canoe voyages, under the employ 
 of some fur company, or even of private individuals ; some- 
 times alone, but more often several banded together, carry- 
 ing loads of ammunition, provisions, and tobacco from the 
 settlements and returning with their canoes laden down 
 with beaver, marten, and other furs collected among the 
 Indians. The vast domain of Canada is so completely 
 watered by a network of large streams, rivers, and lakes, 
 more or less connected, that it is not difificult to make 
 canoe voyages in almost any direction throughout the 
 length and breadth of this great territory. It is indeed 
 possible to start from Montreal and journey by water to 
 
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 til 
 
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 S '^i 
 
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 1 : 
 
 lA: 
 
 222 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 Hudson Bay, the Arctic Ocean, or the base of the 
 Rocky Mountains. 
 
 The voyagcurs were a hardy race, possessed of incredi- 
 ble physical strength and untiring patience, remarkable for 
 an implicit obedience to their superiors, and endowed with 
 a happy, careless nature, regardless of the morrow, so long 
 as they were well-off to-day. While making their long 
 and arduous journeys, the voyageurs would arouse their 
 flagging spirits with merriment and laughter, or awaken 
 echoes from the wooded shores and rocky cliffs along the 
 rivers and lakes, by their characteristic songs, to the accom- 
 paniment of the ceaseless and rhythmic movement of their 
 paddles. 
 
 How much of romance and poetry filled up the meas- 
 ure of their simple lives ! Nature in all its beauty and 
 grandeur was ever around them, and nature's people — the 
 Indians — were those with whom they most associated. 
 They loved all men, and all men loved them, whether 
 civilized or barbarian. The stranger among them was 
 called Cousin, or Brother, and the great fur barons, the 
 partners in the fur companies, on whom they gazed with 
 awe and admiration, as they travelled in regal state from 
 post to post, and to whom they bore almost the relation of 
 serf to feudal lord, they called by their Christian names. 
 The melodies which they chanted in unison as they glided 
 along quiet rivers, with banks of changing outlines and 
 constant variety of forest beauty, would hardly cease as 
 they dashed madly down some roaring, snow-white rapid, 
 beset with dangerous rocks, where a single false stroke 
 would be fatal. F"or many days continuously they were 
 
 
 
Perils of the Canoe Voyages. 
 
 223 
 
 wont to travel, with short time for sleep, working hour 
 after hour at the paddle, or making the toilsome portages, 
 when they were accustomed to carry on their backs loatls 
 of almost incredible weight. Nevertheless, on any oppor- 
 tunity for relaxation, they were ever ready for revelry, 
 music, and the dance, which they would prolong through- 
 out the night. 
 
 The usual dress of the voyageur consisted of a coat or 
 capote cut from a blanket, a cotton shirt, moccasins, and 
 leather or cloth trousers, held in place by a belt of col- 
 ored worsted. A hunting knife and tobacco-pouch, the 
 latter a most indispensable adjunct to the happiness of 
 the voyagciir, were suspended from his belt. Sometimes 
 they would be absent from the settlements twelve or 
 fifteen months, and many never returned from their peril- 
 ous trips. Some were drowned while attempting to run 
 dangerous rapids. Others were overtaken by the ap- 
 proach of winter, or were stopped by ice-bound rivers 
 impossible to navigate, and perished miserably from ex- 
 posure and starvation. 
 
 Those who returned, however, would be amply re- 
 warded by the wealth suddenly acquired from the result 
 of their long toil. The dissipation of their gains in the 
 course of a few weeks, accompanied by all manner of 
 revelry, licentiousness, and mad extravagance, was their 
 compensation for long periods of privation. At length, 
 their means being exhausted, a longing for the old man- 
 ner of life returned, and with renewed hopes they would 
 recommence their long journeys into the wilderness. 
 
 The value of the fur trade soon aroused the attention 
 
t 
 
 J 
 
 I 
 
 if \n- 
 
 
 m 
 
 h'l 
 
 1 1 
 
 \i 
 
 
 224 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 of a number of wealthy and inniiential traders, and in 
 1670 a charter was jj^ranted to Prince Rupert and a com- 
 pany of fourteen otliers, to " the sole trade and com- 
 merce" throughout all the regions watered by streams 
 flowing into Hudson or James Bay. This region was 
 henceforth known as Rupert's Land. In addition to the 
 right of trade, the Hudson Bay Company had the author- 
 ity of government and the dispensation of justice through- 
 out tills vast territory. 
 
 During the winter of 1783-4, however, a number of 
 Canadian merchants, previously engaged in the fur trade, 
 joined their several interests, and formed a coalition which 
 assumed the name of the Northwest Company. 
 
 This organization, governed, as it was, by different 
 principles from that of the Hudson Bay Company, soon 
 became a powerful rival. The younger men in the North- 
 west Company were fired with ambition and assured of an 
 adequate reward for their services. While for many years 
 their older rivals had slumbered, content with the limits 
 of their territory, the more enterprising Northwest Com- 
 pany, with infinite toil and danger, extended their posts 
 throughout the interior and western parts of Canada, and 
 opened up a new and hitherto undeveloped country. 
 Another great advantage that the Northwest Company 
 had over the Hudson Bay Company resulted from their 
 employment of the suave and plastic voyageurs, in whose 
 blood the French quality of ready adaptability to sur- 
 roundings was especially well shown in their dealings with 
 *he Indians, with whom they had the greatest influence. 
 
 n-i 
 
 Hi 
 
Rivalry of Hudson Hay Company. 
 
 On the other hand, the greater part of the Hudson 
 Bay canoe men were imported from the Orkney Islands. 
 What with their obstinate, unbending nature, and mental 
 sluggishness, these men presented a most unfavorable 
 contrast to the genial voyagcurs. 
 
 The establishment of the Northwest Company aroused 
 the utmost jealousy and animosity of the Hudson Bay 
 Company. While the various parties were engaged in 
 dealings with the Indians, there not infrequently oc- 
 curred open conflicts, bloodshed, and murder among the 
 agents, in their attempts to outwit and circumvent one 
 another. 
 
 At length the partners of the Northwest Company in 
 the interior of Canada, realizing that all the profits were 
 more than balanced by their endless and painful contest, 
 determined to open a negotiation with their rivals, and 
 for this purpose sent two delegates to London with full 
 authority to close whatever agreement would be for the 
 best interests of the company. Just at this time the 
 directors of the two companies were about to sign a con- 
 tract most favorable to the Northwest Company. Un- 
 fortunately, on the eve of this event, the two delegates 
 from Canada made their appearance, and instead of com- 
 municating at once with their own directors, they showed 
 their papers to the ofificers of the Hudson Bay Company. 
 The Hudsoil Bay Company took advantage of the oppor- 
 tunity, and, instead of receiving terms from the other, now 
 proceeded to dictate them. The outcome of this unfor- 
 tunate mancEuvre was, that the Northwest Company 
 

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 H 
 
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 4 - ■ : 
 
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 226 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 became merged in that of the Hudson Bay Company, 
 tojfether with the privileges and trade of all of the vast 
 territory which the Northwest Company had developed 
 by superior enterprise. Thus, in 1821, the Northwest 
 Company ended its career. 
 
 The Hudson Bay Company's territory was at length, 
 from time to time, encroached upon as the colonies 
 of British Columbia, Vancouver's Island, and Mani- 
 toba were established. Finally, in 1869, the Company 
 ceded all their governmental and territorial rights to the 
 Dominion, receiving /'3oo,ooo in compensation. Their 
 forts or posts, together with a small amount of land in 
 the immediate vicinity, were reserved by them. The 
 Hudson Bay Company still exists as a commercial organ- 
 ization, carrying on a thriving business in many of the 
 principal cities and towns of Canada. 
 
 So much by way of introduction to the exploration of 
 the Canadian Rockies. 
 
 Let us now turn to Sir Alexander Mackenzie, the 
 hardy explorer who first crossed the continent of North 
 America, after penetrating the grim and inhospitable array 
 of mountains which had hitherto presented an impassable 
 barrier to all further westward progress. 
 
 Mackenzie was born in the northern part of Scotland, 
 in the picturesque and historic town of Inverness. The 
 year of his birth is usually set down as i^SS- In h'^ 
 youth he emigrated to Canada, and found employment 
 as a clerk to one of the partners in the great Northwest 
 Fur Company. Later on he went to Fort Chipewyan, 
 
 1; 
 
 J\ ' M 
 
Mackenzie's Character 
 
 -27 
 
 of 
 
 on Lake Athal)asca, aiul l)t;cani(: one of tlui principal part- 
 ners in the Northwest Company. 
 
 Mackenzie was endowed by nature with a powerful 
 physique and a stron^r constitution, which enabled him 
 to under<,ro the unusual hardships of his explorations in 
 the; wilderness. Heside these physical (lualifications. he 
 was inspired with the ambition necessary to the forma- 
 tion of (Treat plans, and with an enterprising spirit which 
 impelled him to carry them throuj,di to a successful ter- 
 mination. Great versatility of idea enabled him to 
 oppose every novel and sudden danger with new plans, 
 while a rugged perseverance, indomitable patience, and 
 a boldness often bordering on recklessness, carried him 
 through all manner of physical and material obstacles. 
 In his dealings with the Indians and his own followers, 
 he showed an unusual tact;, a quality which more than 
 any other contributed to his success. Nothing so quickly 
 saps the strength and tries the courage of the explorer, 
 be he ever so bold and persevering, as cowardice and 
 unwillingness among his followers. 
 
 Nevertheless, Mackenzie was not a scientific explorer. 
 Outside of the manners and customs of the various tribes 
 with which he came in contact, only the most patent and 
 striking phenomena of the great nature-world impressed 
 him. No better idea of his views on this subject could 
 be obtained than from a passage in the preface to his 
 Voyages : 
 
 " I could not stop," says Mackenzie, "to rM^ into the 
 earth, over whose surface I was compelled to pass with 
 
 H 
 
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 f 
 
 rl' 
 
 ■■ 
 
 ih 
 
 w 
 
 III 
 
 f'f' 
 
 ■I 
 
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 II 
 
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 228 
 
 I'hc Canadian Ruckics. 
 
 rapid sttips : nor could I turn aside to collect the plants 
 which nature initrjit have scattered on tlu; way, when my 
 thouj^hts were anxiously employed in makinjj^ provision 
 for the clay that was passinj^ over me. 1 had to encounter 
 perils by lantl and perils 1)\' water ; to watch the savage 
 who was our guide, or to guard against those of his tribe 
 who might meditate; our tiestruction. I had, also, the pas- 
 sions and fears of ethers to control and subdue. To-day, 
 I had to assuage the rising discontents, and on the mor- 
 row, to cheer the fainting spirits of the people who ac- 
 companied me. The toil of our navigation was incessant, 
 and oftentimes extreme ; and, in our progress overland, 
 we had no protection from the severity of the elements, 
 and possessed no accommoilations or conveniences but 
 such as could be contained in the burden on our shoulders, 
 which aggravated the toils of our march, and added to the 
 wearisomeness of our way. 
 
 "Though the events which compose my journals may 
 have little in themselves to strike the imagination of those 
 who love to be astonished, or to gratify the curiosity of 
 such as are enamoured of romantic adventures ; neverthe- 
 less, when it is considered that I explored those waters 
 which had never before borne any other vessel than the 
 canoe of the savage ; and traversed those deserts where 
 an European had never before presented himself to the 
 eye of its swarthy natives ; when to these considerations 
 are added the important objects which were pursued, with 
 the dangers that were encountered, and the difficulties 
 that were surmounted to attain them, this work will, I 
 
 ill. 
 
Previous lixploratioiis. 
 
 22f 
 
 flatter myself, be found lo excite ;m interest and conciliate 
 rejj^ard in the niimls of those who peruse it." 
 
 Thus Mackenzie! write-s in the preface to his journal. 
 Neverthel(;ss, then? is no (evidence; throu<.,du)Ut liis works 
 that h(! was learned or even interested in the sciences 
 of botany or .tjfeoloi^y. The scientilic mind becomes 
 so much absorbed in the s(;arch for information, when 
 surrounded by the infinite variety of nature's pro- 
 ductions, especially in re_i,dons hitherto unknown, that 
 mere inconvenienct;, physical suffering, or imminent peril 
 is incapable of withdrawing:,^ tin; atttMition from the 
 chosen objects of pursuit. Whoever reads Humboldt's 
 narrative of travels in the equinoctial regions of South 
 America, especially that part which pertains to his v(j)aj;e 
 on th(! Orinoco, will appreciate the truth of this. The 
 sti^in>,^ humid heat of a fever-l.ulen atmosphere, the ever 
 present danj^er of sudden death from venomous serpents, 
 ferocious alligators, or the stealthy jaguar, the very ;iir 
 itself darkened by innumerable swarms of mosquitoes and 
 stinging insects, with changing varieties appearing at 
 every hour of the day and night, were unable to force this 
 great naturalist to resign his work. 
 
 Unfortunately, the explorer and the naturalist are not 
 often combined in one person, notwithstanding that the fact 
 of being one, implies a tendency toward becoming the other. 
 
 Mackenzie mentions one or two attempts previous to 
 1792 to cross the Rocky Mountains. No record of these 
 expeditions is available, a circumstance that implies their 
 termination in failure or disaster. 
 
'! i 
 
 *3 
 
 »'' 
 
 I 
 
 r ) 
 
 hi 
 
 2;,o 
 
 Ihc Canadian Rockies. 
 
 Up to this time the Rocky Mountains, with their awful 
 array of saw-edged peaks covered with a dazzHny white 
 mantle of perpetual snow, had stood as the western limit 
 of overland exploration, beyond which no European had 
 ever passed. The Pacific Coast had already been explored 
 by Captain Cook in 1778, and a few years later so accu- 
 rately charted by Vancouver, tl at his work is still 
 standard among- navigators. The eastern border of the 
 Rockies was vayfuelv located, but between these narrow 
 strips there remained a vast region, four hundred miles 
 wide, extending to the Arctic Ocean, ..^bout which little or 
 nothing was known. 
 
 As in the case of other unexplored regions, there were 
 vairue anil contlictino; rumors amono^ the Indians concern- 
 ing the dangers of these upland fastnesses, accounts of 
 hostile tribes, men partly human, partly animal in form 
 and nature, ;ind colossal beasts, endowed with fabulous 
 strength and agility, from which escape was next to im- 
 possible. These Indian tales, though in great part the 
 product of imagination or superstition, ui'.fortunately did 
 but partial justice to the reality, for although the rej,orted 
 dangers and terrors were mythical, there were real and 
 material obstacles in the form of mountain ranges bewil- 
 dering in their endless extent and complexity, between 
 which were valleys blocked by fallen timber, and torrential 
 streams rendered unnavigable by roaring rapids or gloomy 
 canyons of awful depth. In fact, this region was one of 
 the most difficult to penetrate and explore that the world 
 could offer at that time. 
 
 I 
 
 HI 
 
 V 
 
 In i 
 
The Peace River. 
 
 231 
 
 Nevertheless, Mackenzie now turned his attention 
 toward Lhis region, resolved to traverse and explore it till 
 he should reach the Pacific. Moreover, he was confident 
 of success, perhaps realizing his many qualifications for 
 such an enterprise, and certainly encouraged by the 
 remembrance of the difficulties he had overcome during 
 his former voyage, in 1789, to the mouth of that great 
 river which bears his name. 
 
 Leaving P'ort Chipewyan on Lake Athabasca, he soon 
 reached that great waterway, the Peace River, and with 
 several canoes began to stem the moderate current of this 
 stream, which is at this point about one fourth of a mile 
 in width and quite deep. 
 
 The origin of names is always interesting, and that of 
 the Peace River is said to be derived from a circumstance 
 of Indian history. The tribe of Indians called the Knis- 
 teneux, who originally inhabited the Atlantic seaboard 
 and the St. Lawrence valley, migrated in a northwesterly 
 direction. In the course of this tribal movement, after 
 reaching the centre of the continent, they at length came 
 in contact with the Beaver Indians, and a neighboring 
 tribe called the Slaves, at a point some fifty leagues due 
 south from Lake Athabasca. The Knisteneux ilrove 
 these tribes from their lands, the Slave Indians movinof 
 northward down the Slave River to Great Slave Lake, 
 from which circumstance the lake derives its name. The 
 term Slave was not ap[)lied to indicate servitude, but by 
 way of reproach on their unusual barbarity and destitu- 
 tion. The Beaver Indians moveci in another direction. 
 
nl 
 
 v\ 
 
 I! 
 
 ir 
 
 t' 
 
 ti 
 
 ;i 
 
 2x2 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 more to the westward, and on the ratification of peace 
 between them and the Knisteneux, the Peace River was 
 assigned as the boundary between them. 
 
 After proceeding for three weeks up the Peace River, 
 Mackenzie camped for the winter at a point previously 
 decided on, and early in the following spring recom- 
 menced his " voyage," as these inland water journeys 
 are called. Mackenzie was accompanied by Alexander 
 Mackay, one of the officers of the Northwest Company. 
 The crew consisted of six Canadian voyao^ctirs, and the 
 party was completed by two Indians, who, it was in- 
 tended, should act as interpreters and hunters. A single 
 canoe, twenty-five feet long and not quite five feet in ex- 
 treme breadth, served to carry the entire party, in addi- 
 tion to three thousand pounds of baggage and provisions. 
 
 It would be entirely aside from our purpose to narrate 
 in detail the many interesting adventures and narrow 
 escapes of the party. A single incident will serve to 
 throw some light on the perils and toils that were en- 
 countered. At the time of the incident in question, they 
 had crossed the watershed by following the south branch 
 of the Peace River to its source, and were now descend- 
 ing a mad torrent which runs westward, and is tributary 
 to the Fraser River, which latter Mackenzie mistook for 
 the Columbia. 
 
 It was on the morning of the 13th of June, and the 
 canoe had proceeded but a short distance, when it 
 struck, and, turning sidewise, broke on a stone. Mac- 
 kenzie and all the men jumped into the water at once, 
 
 i'l 
 
A Marvellous Escape. 
 
 2oj 
 
 and endeavored to stop the canoe and turn it round. But 
 almost immediately she was swept into deeper water, 
 where it became necessary for everybody to scramble 
 aboard with the greatest celerity. In this uncertain con- 
 test, one of the men was left in mid-stream to effect a 
 passage to shore in the best way he could. 
 
 " We had hardly regained our situations," writes Mac- 
 kenzie, " when we drove against a rock, which shattered 
 the stern of the canoe in such a manner that it held only 
 by the gunwales, so that the steersman could no longer 
 keep his place. The violence of this stroke drove us to 
 the opposite side of the river, which is but narrow, when 
 the bow met with the same fate as the stern. At this 
 moment the foreman seized on some branches of a small 
 tree, in the hope of bringing up the canoe, but such was 
 their elasticity that, in a manner not easily described, he 
 was jerked on shore in an instant, and with a degree of 
 violence that threatened his destruction. But we had no 
 time to turn from our own situation to inquire what had 
 befallen him ; for, in a few moments, we came across a 
 cascade, which broke several larg oles in the bottom of 
 the canoe, and started all the bars, ( vccut one 1>ehind the 
 scooping seat. If this accident, however, ul not hap- 
 pened, the vessel must have been irretrievablv oxerset. 
 The wreck becoming flat on the water, we all jumped out, 
 while the steersman, who had been compelled to abandon 
 his place, and had not recovered from his fright, ciuled 
 out to his companions to save themselves. My peremp- 
 tory commands superseded the effects of his fear, and 
 
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 IfM 
 
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 i ■ 
 
 ^ 
 
 
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 ! I. 
 
 234 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 they all held fast to the wreck ; to which fortunate resolu- 
 tion we owed our safety, as we should otherwise have 
 been dashed against the rocks by the force of the water, 
 or driven over the cascades. In this condition we were 
 forced several hundred yards, and every yard on the verge 
 of destruction ; but, at length, we most fortunately arrived 
 in shallow water and a small eddy, where we were enabled 
 to make a stand, from the weight of the canoe resting on 
 the stones, rather than from any exertions of our ex- 
 hausted strength. For, though our efforts were short, 
 they were pushed to the utmost, as life or death depended 
 on them." 
 
 At this juncture, the Indians, instead of making any 
 effort to assist the others, sat down and shed tears, though 
 it is considered a mortal disgrace among Indians to weep 
 except when intoxicated. 
 
 On the 2 2d of July, after encountering countless trials 
 and the dancrers of savage foes, no less than the obstacles 
 of nature, Mackenzie reached an arm of the sea in latitude 
 52° 20' 48 , where on a rocky cliff he inscribed this brief 
 legend in vermilion : " Alexander Mackenzie from Canada 
 by land, the 2 2d of July, one thousand seven hundred 
 and ninety-three." 
 
 The next day, when alone, he was nearly murdered by 
 a band of Indians, but escaped by his agility and by a 
 fortunate momentary hesitation on the part of the savages. 
 
 Mackenzie's return journey was o\er the same route 
 that he had first taken, and required but four weeks to 
 traverse the mountains. 
 
 y 
 
 
 n* i \ 
 
Perils of the Wilderness. 
 
 235 
 
 In readiiiij a detailed account of this voyage, one is 
 impressed with the many perils encountered, no less than 
 the ofttimes remarkable and fortunate escapes from them. 
 It is so with the journals of nearly all great travellers. 
 They recount an endless succession of dangers and adven- 
 tures by sea and land, from which, though often in the 
 very jaws of death by reason of the operations of nature 
 and the elements, the traveller ever eventually escapes, 
 apparently in defiance of the laws of chance and proba- 
 bility. But we must bear in mind the great host of trav- 
 ellers who have never returned, and whose unfinished 
 journals are lost forever to mankind. 
 
 The remotest corners of the earth have been mute 
 witnesses to these tragedies. The inhospitable, rock- 
 bound shores of lonely islands, or low-lying sands of coral 
 reefs, where the ceaseless ocean billows thunder in ever- 
 lasting surf, have beheld the expiring struggles of many a 
 bold navigator. The colossal bergs and crushing ice of 
 polar seas ; hurricanes and typhoons in tropic latitudes ; 
 the horrors of fire at sea ; the broad wastes of continents ; 
 trackless desert sands, where, under a scorching sun, 
 objects on the distant horizon dance in the waving air, 
 and portray mirage pictures of lakes and streams to the 
 thirsty traveller ; deep, cool forests bewildering in the 
 endless maze of trees ; piercing winter storms, with cut- 
 ting winds and driving snows ; the blood-thirsty pack of 
 famishing wolves ; rivers, dangerous to navigate, with im- 
 petuous current swirling and roaring in fearful rapids, — 
 all these have their records of death and disaster. 
 
236 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 But of them all, man has ever been the worst 
 destroyer. The hostile savage, the mutinous crew, or 
 treacherous guide have proved far more cruel, revenge- 
 ful, and cunningly destructive than the catastrophes of 
 nature, whose mute, dead forces act out their laws in 
 accordance with the great plan of the universe, unguided 
 by motives of hate, and envy, and the wicked devices of 
 human passions. 
 
 '' r:!i' 
 
 V 
 
 I 
 
 lif 
 
 '^i V 
 
 ihi 
 
 I ■ 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 HISTORICAL. 
 
 Captain Cook's Explorations — T/ie American Fur Company — First 
 Exploration of the Eraser Jiiver — Expedition of Ross Cox — Cannibalism 
 — Simplicity of a Voyageur — Sir George Simpson's yourncy — Discoi'ery 
 vf Goh> in i8^S— The Palliser Expedition— Dr. Hector's Adventures — 
 Milton and Cheadle — Groioth of the Dominion — Railroad Surveys — 
 Construction of the Railroad — Historical Periods — Future Popularity 
 vf the Canadian Rockies. 
 
 THE early explorations of Captain Cook had an 
 almost immediate effect on the development of 
 the fur trade. Upon the publication of that 
 wonderful book, Cook's Foyagcs round the World, where- 
 in were shown the great value and quantity of furs 
 obtainable along the northwest coast of America, a con- 
 siderable number of ships were fitted out for the purpose 
 of carrying on this trade. Three years after, or in i 792, 
 there were twenty American vessels along the Pacific 
 Coast, from California northward to Alaska, collectinsr 
 furs, especially that of the sea otter, from the natives. 
 
 Of these " canoes, large as islands, and filled with white 
 men," Mackenzie had heard many times from the natives 
 met with on his overland journey across the Rocky Moun- 
 tains. Mackenzie's journal was not published till 1801. 
 
 237 
 
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 i 
 
 'fi 
 
 It 
 
 I 
 
 • 1 
 
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 Ij 
 
 1: 
 
 
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 1 
 
 
 I, 
 
 
 1' 
 
 i ■ 
 
 238 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 Ill this book, however, he outlines a plan to perfect a well 
 regulated trade by means of an overland route, with posts 
 at intervals along the line, and a well established terminus 
 on the Pacific Coast. Should this plan be carried out, he 
 predicted that the Canadians would obtain control of the 
 fur trade of the entire northern part of North America, 
 and that the Americans would be compelled to relinquish 
 their irregular trade. 
 
 While the agents of the American Fur Company, a 
 rival organization controlled and managed by Mr. John 
 Jacob Astor, were preparing to extend their limits north- 
 wards from their headquarters at the mouth of the Colum- 
 bia, the Northwest Company was pushing southward 
 through British Columbia, and had already established a 
 colony called New Caledonia near the headquarters of 
 the Fraser River. Thus Mr. Astor's scheme of gaining 
 control of the head waters of the Columbia River was 
 anticipated. The war of 1812 completely frustrated his 
 plans, when the post of Astoria fell temporarily into the 
 hands of the English. 
 
 A very good idea of the hardships of life at one of 
 these western posts, together with a brief account of the 
 first exploration of the Fraser River, may be obtained 
 from a letter written in 1809 by Jules Ouesnel to a friend 
 in Montreal. The letter is dated New Caledonia, May 
 1st, 1809, and after a few remarks on other matters, Mr. 
 Ouesnel goes on to say : " There are places in the north 
 where, notwithstanding the disadvantages of the country 
 in general, it is possible sometimes to enjoy one's self ; 
 but here nothing is to be found but hardship and loneli- 
 
 •', f 
 
Exploration of the Frascr Ri\cr, 
 
 239 
 
 ness. Far away from every one, we do not have the 
 pleasure of gettint,^ news from the other places. We live 
 entirely upon salmon dried in the sun by the Indians, who 
 also use the same food, for there are no animals, and we 
 would often be without shoes did we not procure leather 
 from the Peace River. 
 
 " I must now tell you that I went exploring this sum- 
 mer with Messrs. Simon Fraser and John Stuart, whom 
 you have met, I believe. We were accompanied by twelve 
 men, and with three canoes went down the river, that 
 until now was thought to be the Columbia. Soon finding 
 the river unnavigable, we left our canoes and continued 
 on foot through awful mountains, which we never could 
 have passed had we not been helped by the Indians, who 
 received us well. After having passed all those bad 
 places, not without much hardship, as you may imagine, 
 we found the river once more navigable, and got into 
 wooden canoes and continued our journey more comfort- 
 ably as far as the mouth of this river in the Pacific Ocean. 
 Once there, as we prepared to go farther, the Indians of 
 that place, who were numerous, opposed our passage, and 
 we were very fortunate in being able to withdraw without 
 being in the necessity of killing or being killed. We were 
 well received by all the other Indians on our way back, 
 and we all reached our New Caledonia in good health. 
 The mouth of this river is in latitude 49°, nearly 3" north 
 of the real Columbia. This trip procured no advantage to 
 the company, and will never be of any, as the river is not 
 navigable. But our aim in making the trip was attained, 
 so that we cannot blame ourselves in any manner." 
 
I 
 
 1 
 
 I 
 
 I ^' 
 
 If 
 
 ;:< 
 
 I I 
 
 !.l 
 
 ll • 
 
 !40 
 
 The Canadian Ruckics. 
 
 This letter throws some light on the history of this 
 period, and shows whence the names of certain rivers and 
 lakes of British Coliiml)ia were derived. It would be in 
 place here to say that when Mackenzie first came to the 
 Fraser River, after crossinj^ the watershed from the Peace 
 River, he entertained the idea that he was on the Columbia. 
 
 A few years later, the agents of the fur companies 
 had established certain routes and passages across the 
 mountains, which they were accustomed to follow more 
 or less regularly in their annual or semi-annual journeys. 
 One of the largest of these early parties to traverse the 
 Rorkleii was under the management of Mr. Ross Cox, 
 v^ho was returning from Astoria in the year 1817. There 
 were, in all, eighty-six persons in his party, representing 
 many nationalities outside of the various Indians and 
 FiOme Sandwich Islanders. 
 
 A striking incident in connection with this expedition 
 illustrates the hazard and danger which at all times at- 
 tended these journeys through the wilderness. The party 
 had pursued their way up the Columbia River, and were 
 now on the point of leaving their canoes and proceeding on 
 foot up the course of the Canoe River, a stream that flows 
 southward and enters the Columbia not far from the 
 Athabasca Pass. The indescribable toil of their passage 
 up the Columbia, and the many laborious portages, had 
 sapped the strength of the men and rendered some of 
 them wellnigh helpless. Under these circumstances, it 
 seemed best that some of the weakest should not attempt 
 to pursue their journey farther, but should return down 
 
 
 i ii 
 
^1 
 
 A Terrible AcKcnturc. 
 
 241 
 
 the Columbia. There wen; sevcMi in this party, of whom 
 only two were able to work, but it was hoped that the 
 favorable current would carry them rapidly towards Spo- 
 kane, when; there was a post established. An air of fore- 
 bodinj^r and melancholy settled upon some of those who 
 were about to depart, and some prophesied that they 
 would never ao;ain see Canada, a prediction that proved 
 only too true. In Ross Cox's Adventures on the Colum- 
 bia River the record of their disastrous return is thus 
 vividly related : 
 
 " On leavinjr the Rocky Mountains, they drove rap- 
 idly down the current until they arrived at the Upper 
 Dalles, or narrows, where they were obliged to disem- 
 bark. A cod-line was made fast to the stern of the 
 canoe, while two men with poles preceded it along the 
 banks to keep it from striking against the rocks. It had 
 not descended more than half the distance, when it was 
 caught in a strong whirlpool, and the line snapped. The 
 canoe for a moment disappeared in the vortex, on emer- 
 ging from which it was carried by the irresistible force of 
 the current to the opposite side, and dashed to pieces 
 against the rocks. They had not had the prudence to 
 take out either their blankets or a small quantity of pro- 
 visions, which were, of course, all lost. Here, then, the 
 poor fellows found themselves, deprived of all the neces- 
 saries of life, and at a period of the year in which it was 
 impossible to procure any wild fruit or roots. To return 
 to the mountains was impossible, and their only chance 
 of preservation was to proceed downwards, and to keep 
 
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 mmam 
 
 n 
 
 in 
 
 ^ j 1. 5 
 
 •; 11 
 
 'i 
 
 H 
 
 f 
 
 i 
 
 II 
 
 I ' 
 
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 242 
 
 The CaiKulian Rockies. 
 
 as near the banks of the river as circumstances would 
 permit. The continual risincf of the water had com- 
 pletely inuiulated the beach, in const^cjuence of which 
 they were compelled to force their way throuj^h an almost 
 impervious forest, the j^jround of which was covered with 
 a stron^r j^rowth of prickly underwood. Their only nour- 
 ishment was water, owing to which, and their weakness 
 from fatij^ue and ill-health, their pro^^ress was necessarily 
 slow. On the third day poor Macron died, and his sur- 
 viving; comrades, though unconscious how soon they 
 might be called to follow him, determined to keep off the 
 fatal moment as long as possible. They therefore divided 
 his remains in equal parts between them, on which they 
 subsisted for some days, l-'rom the swollen state of their 
 feet their daily progress did not exceed two or three 
 miles. Holmes, the tailor, shortly followed Magon, and 
 they continued for some time longer to sustain life on his 
 emaciated body. It would be a painful repetition to 
 detail the individual death of each man. Sufifice it to 
 say that, in a little time, of the seven men, two only, 
 named La Pierre and Dubois, remained alive. La Pierre 
 was subsequently found on the borders of the upper lake 
 of the Columbia by two Indians who were coasting it in 
 a canoe. They took him on board, and brought him to 
 the Kettle Falls, whence he was conducted to Spo- 
 kane House." 
 
 " He stated that after the death of the fifth man of the 
 party, Dubois and he continued for some days at the spot 
 where he had ended his sufferings, and, on quitting it, 
 
 
Cannibalism. 
 
 243 
 
 they loaded themselves with as much of his llesh as they 
 could carry ; that with this they succeeded in njachini,' 
 the upper lake, round the shores of which they wandered 
 for some time in v.iin, in search of Indians; that their 
 horrid food at len<rth became exhausted, and they were 
 aj;ain reduced to the prospect of starvation ; that on the 
 second nijrht after their last meai, hv. (La Pierre) ob- 
 served somethin.t,r suspicious in the copduct of Dubois. 
 which induced him to be on his ^ruard ; and that shortly 
 after they had lain down for the ni!L,dit, and while he 
 feijrned sleep, he observed Dubois cautiously opening; his 
 clasp knife, with which he sprang on him, and inflicted 
 on his hand the blow that was evidently intended for his 
 neck. A silent and desperate conflict followed, in which, 
 after severe struj,r(rlin<r, La Pierre succeeded in wrestin.Lr 
 the knife from his antagonist, and, having no other re- 
 source left, he was obliged in self-defence to cut Dubois's 
 throat ; and that a few days afterwards he was discovered 
 by the Indians as before mentioned. Thus far nothiiKT 
 at first appeared to impugn the veracity of his statement ; 
 but some other natives subsequently found the remains of 
 two of the party near those of Dubois, mangled in such 
 a manner as to induce them to think that they had been 
 murdered ; and as La Pierre's story was by no means 
 consistent in many of its details, the proprietors judged it 
 advisable to transmit him to Canada for trial. Only one 
 Indian attended; but as the testimony against him was 
 merely circumstantial, and was unsupported by corrobora- 
 ting evidence, he was acquitted." 
 
I M 
 
 F I 
 
 H4 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 Meanwhile the greater part of this expedition contin- 
 ued their way through the mountains by the Athabasca 
 Pass. Here, when surrounded by all the glory and 
 grandeur of lofty mountains clad in eternal snow and 
 icy glaciers, and amid the frequent crash and roar of 
 descending avalanches, one of the zumrovnrs exclaimed, 
 after a long period of silent wonder and admiration — " 1 '11 
 take my oath, my dear friends, that God Almighty never 
 made such a place." 
 
 On the summit of the Athabasca Pass they were on the 
 Atlantic side of the watershed, and here let us take leave 
 of them while they pursue their toilsome journey across 
 the great plains of Canada to the eastern side of the 
 continent. 
 
 All of these early expeditions were undertaken in the 
 interests of the fur trade, and carried out by the agents 
 of the various fui companies, except for occasional bands 
 of emigrants on their way to the Pacific Coast, the accounts 
 of whose journeys are only referred to by later writers in 
 a vatj^ue and uncertain manner. 
 
 The expedition in 1841 of Sir George Simpson, how- 
 ever, to which reference has been made in a previous 
 chapter, is m many respects different from all the others. 
 The rapidity of his movements, the great number of his 
 horses, and the ease and even luxury of his camp life indi- 
 cate the tourist and traveller, rather than the scientist, the 
 hardy explorer, or the daring seeker after wealth in the 
 wilderness. His narrative is the first published account 
 of the travels of any white man in that part of the moun- 
 
 1 
 
 ''\^ 
 
 1 
 
 • 
 
 1 
 
 ' 
 
 •III 
 
 i 
 
 'I 
 
 
 
 ;, . 1 
 
Discovery of (iokl. 
 
 245 
 
 tains now traversed by the Canadian Pacific Road, though 
 he mentions a party of eniij;rants which immediately 
 preceded him in this part of his journ(;y. The rapidity 
 with which Sir Cieorge* Simpson w.is wont to travel may 
 be apijreciatetl from the fact that he crossetl the entire 
 continent of North America in its widest part, over a 
 route five thousand mih-s in length, in twelve weeks of 
 actual travelling. The great central plains were crossed 
 with carts, and the mountainous parts of the country 
 with horses and j)ack-'.raiiis. 
 
 In 1858, gold was discovered on the upper waters of 
 the rVaser River, and a great horde of prospectors and 
 miners, together with the accompanying hangers-on, 
 including all manner of desperate characters, came rushing 
 toward the gold-fields, from various |)arts of Canada and 
 the United States. This year may hv. considered as 
 marking the birth of a new enterprise and the compara- 
 tive decline of the fur trade ever after. 
 
 About this time, or, more precisely, in 1857, Her 
 Majesty's CJovernment set an (expedition on foot, the 
 object of which was to examine the route of trav<;l be- 
 tween eastern and w(;stern Canada, and to find out if this 
 route could be shortened, or in any other manner im- 
 proved upon. Moreover, tlu^ exp(Hlition was to investi- 
 gate the large b(;lt of country, hitherto practically unknown, 
 which lies east of the Rocky Mountains and between the 
 United States boundary and the North Saskatchewan 
 River. The third object of this expedition was to find a 
 pass, or passes, available for horses across the Rocky 
 

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 i 1 
 
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 1 
 
 1 
 
 ( 
 
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 i 
 
 1 •■ .• 
 
 l(. 
 
 I 
 
 ;t 
 
 l| 
 
 :46 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 Mountains south of the Athabasca Pass, but still in British 
 territory. 
 
 As this was an excellent opportunity for the advance- 
 ment of science without involvino- o-reat additional 
 expense, four scientists, Lieut. Blackiston, Dr. Hector, 
 Mr. Sullivan, and M. Bourgeau, were attached to the 
 expedition. The party were under the control and 
 management of Captain John Palliser. 
 
 The third object of this expedition is the only one 
 that concerns the history of explorations in the Canadian 
 Rockies. In their search for passes, Captain Palliser and 
 Dr. Hector met with many interesting adventures, of 
 which it is, of course, impossible to give more than the 
 merest outline, as the detailed account of their journeys 
 fills several large volumes. In August, 1858, Captain 
 Palliser entered the mountains by following the Bow 
 River, or south branch of the Saskatchewan. He then 
 followed a river which comes in from the south, and 
 which he named the Kananaskis, after an Indian, concern- 
 ing whom there is a legend of his wonderful recovery from 
 the blow of an axe, which merely stunned instead of 
 killing him outright. 
 
 When they approached the summit of the pass, a lake 
 about four miles long was discovered, round the borders 
 of which they had the utmost difficulty in pursuing their 
 way on account of the burnt timber, in which the horses 
 floundered about desperately. One of the animals, wiser 
 than his generation, plunged into the lake before he 
 could be caught and proceeded to swim across. Unfor- 
 
The Palliser Expedition. 
 
 247 
 
 tunately this animal was packed with their only luxuries, 
 their tea, sugar, and blankets. 
 
 On the very summit of the pass is a small lake some 
 half an acre in extent, which overflows toward the Pacific, 
 and such was the disposition of the drainage at this point 
 that while their tea-kettle was supplied from the lake, 
 their elk meat was boiling in water from the sources of 
 the Saskatchewan, 
 
 A few days later, Captain Palliser made a lone moun- 
 tain ascent near one of the Columbia lakes, but was 
 caught by night in a fearful thunder-storm so that he 
 could not reach camp till next day. His descent through 
 the forests was aided by the frequent and brilliant flashes 
 of lightning. 
 
 A little later they met with a large band of Kootanie 
 Indians, who, though very destitute and miserable in 
 every other way, were very rich in horses. Captain Pal- 
 liser exchanged his jaded nags for others in better condi- 
 tion, and despairing of pursuing his way farther, as the 
 Indians were at war and would not act as guides, he 
 started, on the first of September, to return across the 
 mountains, and reached Edmonton in three weeks. 
 
 In the meantime Dr. Hector made a branch expedi- 
 tion which has some incidents of interest in connection 
 with it. He was accompanied at first by the indefatiga- 
 ble botanist, IM. Bourgeau, and by three Red River men, 
 besides a Stoney Indian, who acted as guide and hunter 
 for the party. Eight horses sufficed to carry their instru- 
 ments and necessary baggage, as it was not considered 
 
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 ■ 
 
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 k ' ' 
 
 I ih 
 
 ,y^ 
 
 248 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 necessary to take much provision in those parts of the 
 mountains which lie intended to visit. 
 
 Some reference; has already been made to Dr. Hec- 
 tor's experiences in the vicinity of Banff, and we shall 
 only (j^ive one or two of the more interesting^ details of 
 his later travels. He left the Bow River at the Little 
 Vermilion Creek, and followed this stream over the Ver- 
 milion I'ass. The name of this pass is derived from the 
 \'ermilion Plain, a [)lace where the ferrui,n'nous shales 
 have washed down and formed a yellow ochre. This 
 material the Indians subject to fire, and thus convert it 
 into a red pigment, or vermilion. 
 
 Perhaps the most interesting detail of Dr. Hector's 
 trip is that which occurred on the Beaverfoot River, at 
 its junction with the Kicking Horse River. The party 
 had reached the place by following down the Vermilion 
 River till it joins the Kootanie, thence up the Kootanie 
 to its source, and down the Beaverfoot. Here, at a place 
 about three miles from where the little railroad station 
 known as Leanchoil now stands. Dr. Hector met with 
 an accident which gave the name to the Kicking Horse 
 River and Pass. A few )'ards below the place, where the 
 Beaverfoot River joins the Kicking Horse, there is a fine 
 waterfall about forty feet high, and just above this, one of 
 Hector's horses plunged into the stream to escape the 
 fallen timber. They had great difficulty in getting the 
 animal out of the water, as the banks were very steep. 
 Meanwhile, Hector's own horse strayed off, and in at- 
 tempting to catch it the horse kicked him in the chest, 
 
 
The Kickinsj' Horse River. 
 
 IT 
 
 240 
 
 fortunately when so near that he did not receive the full 
 force of the blow. Nevertheless, the kick knocked Hec- 
 tor down and 
 rendered him 
 senseless for 
 s o m »' t i m e. 
 This was the 
 more; unfortu- 
 nate, as they 
 were; out of 
 food, and had 
 s(;en no sio"n 
 of game in the 
 vicinity. His 
 men ever after 
 called the river 
 the Kicking 
 Horsc', a name 
 that has re- 
 mained to this 
 da\' ch:s|)ite its 
 lack of (-Hipho- 
 ny. 
 
 T o the 
 transcontinen- 
 tal trav(dler. 
 
 one of the most beautiful and inspiring points along th(: en- 
 tire railroail is the descent of the Kicking I lorse Pass from 
 the station of Hector to Field. Here, in a distance of 
 
 FALLS OF LEANCHOIL. 
 
f 
 
 ill 
 
 n 
 
 !t i 
 
 .■ ■! 
 
 J ■ ( 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 i ; 
 
 11 
 
 t 
 
 1 
 
 
 250 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 eight miles, the track descends 1000 feet, in many a curve 
 and changing grade, surrounded by the towering chffs of 
 Mount Stephen and Cathedral Peak, while the rich for- 
 ests of the valley far below are most beautiful in swell- 
 ing slopes of dark green. Certainly, whoever has ridden 
 down this long descent at breakneck speed, on a small 
 hand-car, or railway velocipede, while the alternating 
 rock cuts, high embankments, and trestles or bridges of 
 dizzy height fly by in rapid succession, must feel at the 
 same time a grand conception of the glories of nature 
 and the triumphs of man. In striking contrast to this 
 luxury of transportation was the old-time method of trav- 
 elling through these mountains. The roaring stream 
 which the railroad follows and tries in vain to descend in 
 equally rapid slope is now one of the most attractive 
 features of the scenery of the pass. 
 
 When Dr. Hector first came through this pass he had 
 an adventure with one of his horses on this stream. They 
 were climbing up the rocky banks of the torrent when the 
 incident occurred. The horses had much difficulty in get- 
 ting up, and in Hector's own words, " One, an old gray, that 
 was always more clums than the others, lost his balance 
 in passing along a ledge, which overhung a precipitous 
 slope about 150 feet in height, and down he went, luckily 
 catching sometimes on the trees ; at last he came to a 
 temporary pause by falling right on his back, the pack 
 acting as a fender. However, in his endeavors to get up, 
 he started down hill again, and at last slid on a dead tree 
 that stuck out at right angles to the slope, balancing him- 
 
 '' 
 
Short Rations. 
 
 251 
 
 self with his legs dangling on either side of the trunk of 
 the tree in a most comical manner. It was only by mak- 
 ing a round of a mile that we succeeded in getting him 
 back, all battered and bruised, to the rest of the horses." 
 
 That night they camped at one of the lakes on the 
 summit of the pass, but were wellnigh famished. A 
 single grouse boiled with some ends of candles, and odd 
 bits of grease, served as a supper to the five hungry men. 
 
 The next day they proceeded down the east slope and 
 came to a river that the Indian recognized as the Bow, 
 About mid-day the Stoney Indian had the good fortune to 
 shoot a moose, the only thing that saved the life of the 
 old gray that had fallen down the rocky banks of the 
 Kicking Horse River, for he was appointed to die, and 
 serve as food if no game were killed that day. 
 
 Here we shall take leave of Dr. Hector and the Pal- 
 liser expedition, and only briefly say that Hector followed 
 the Bow to its source and thence down the Little Fork to 
 the Saskatchewan and so out of the mountains. The next 
 year Dr. Hector again followed up the Bow River and 
 Pipestone River to the Saskatchewan, and thence over the 
 Howse Pass to the Columbia, where he found it impossible 
 to travel either west or northwest, and was forced to pro- 
 ceed southward to the boundary. 
 
 The main objects of the Palliser expedition were in a 
 great measure accomplished, though the Selkirk Range of 
 mountains was not penetrated by them, and no parses 
 discovered through this formidable barrier. The vast 
 amount of useful scientific material collected by the mem- 
 
I 
 
 
 
 . I 
 
 'i ; i 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 ' p 
 
 ;(lii 1 
 
 ' '^ 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 '!^.■ ■ 
 
 ^r 
 
 I'l 
 
 252 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 bers of this expedition was published in London by the 
 British Government, but it is now, unfortunately, so 
 rare as to be practically inaccessible to the general 
 reader. 
 
 The account of an expedition across the Rockies in 
 1862, by Viscount Milton and Dr. Cheadle, is perhaps the 
 most interesting yet published. It abounds in thrilling- 
 details of unusual adventures, and no one who has read 
 T/ic Nortlnvcst Passaj^c by Land will ever forget the 
 discovery of the headless Indian when they were on the 
 point of starvation in the valley of the North Thompson, 
 or the various interesting details of their perseverance and 
 final escape where others had perished most miserably. 
 The object of this expedition was to discover the most 
 direct route through British territory to the gold mines of 
 the Caribou region, and to explore the unknown regions 
 in the vicinity of the north branch of the Thompson 
 River. 
 
 A period of very rapid growth in the Dominion of 
 Canada now follows close upon the date of this expedi- 
 tion. In 1867, the colony of Canada, together with New 
 Brunswick and Nova Scotia, united to form the new 
 Dominion of Canada, and, in 1869, the Hudson Bay Com- 
 pany sold out its rights to the central and northwestern 
 parts of British North America. 
 
 In the meantime the people of the United States had 
 been vigorously carrying on surveys, and preparing to 
 build railroads across her vast domains, where lofty moun- 
 tain passes and barren wastes of desert land intervened 
 
 A 
 
 In 
 
 iK 
 
Railroad Surveys. 
 
 233 
 
 between her rich and |oopulous East and the thrivinsr and 
 energetic West, but in Canada no Hne as yet connected 
 the provinces of the central plains with her eastern pos- 
 sessions, while British Columbia occupied a positi(jn of 
 isolation beyond the great barriers of the Rocky Moun- 
 tains. 
 
 On the 20th of July, 1S71, British Columbia entered 
 the Dominion of Canada, and on the same day the survey 
 parties for a transcontinental railroad started their work. 
 One of the conditions on which British Columbia entered 
 the Dominion was, that a railroad to connect her witli the 
 east should be constructed within ten years. 
 
 More than three and one half millions of dollars were 
 expended jn these preliminary surveys, and eleven different 
 lines were surveyed across the mountains before the one 
 finally used was selected. Nor was this vast amount of 
 work accomplished without toil and danger. Many lives 
 were lost in the course of these surveys, by forest tires, 
 drowning, and the various accidents in connection with 
 their hazardous work. Ofttimes in the gloomy gorges and 
 canyons, especially in the Coast Range, where the rivers 
 flow in deep channels hemmed in and imprisoned by pre- 
 cipitous walls of rock, the surveyors were compelled to 
 cross awful chasms by means of fallen trees, or, by drilling 
 holes and inserting bolts in the cliffs, to cling to the rocks 
 far above boiling cauldrons and seething rapids, where a 
 fall meant certain death. Tlie ceaseless exertion and fre- 
 quent exposure on the part of the surveyors were often 
 unrewarded by the discovery of favorable routes, or passes 
 
n*B^ 
 
 !54 
 
 The CaiKulian Rockies. 
 
 'I 
 
 .1 I 
 
 i 
 
 
 through the mountains. The Selkirk Ranije proved 
 especially formidable, and only after two years of priva- 
 tion and suffering did the engineer Rogers discover, in 
 1S83, the deep and narrow pass which now bears his name, 
 and by which the railway seeks a route across the crest of 
 this range, at the bottom of a vallf'y more than a mile in 
 depth. 
 
 The romance of an eagle leading to the discovery of a 
 pass is connected with a much earlier date. Mr. Moberly 
 was in search of a pass through the Gold Range west of 
 the Selkirks, and one day he observed an eagle flying up 
 a narrow valley into the heart of these unknown moun- 
 tains. He followed the direction of the eagle, and, as 
 though led on by some divine omen, he discovered the 
 only route through this range, and, in perpetuation of this 
 incident, the name Eagle Pass has ueen retained ever 
 since. 
 
 But all these surveys were merely preliminary to the 
 vast undertaking of constructing a railroad. At first, the 
 efforts of the government were rewarded with only partial 
 success, and at length, in 1880, the control and manage- 
 ment of railroad construction was given over to an organi- 
 zation of private individuals. In the mountain region 
 there were many apparently insuperable obstacles, to 
 overcome which there were repeated calls for further 
 financial aid. However, under the able and efficient con- 
 trol of Sir William Van Home, the various physical diffi- 
 culties were, one by one, overcome, while his indomitable 
 courage and remarkable energy inspired confidence in 
 
 S'|i' 
 
 1 : 
 
 r 
 
Historical Periods. 
 
 255 
 
 those who were backinij^ the unclcrtakinjr financially. 
 Moreover, he had a thorouLjh knowledj^e of railroail con- 
 struction, togelher with unusual perseverance and resolu- 
 tion, combined with physical powers which enabled him 
 to withstaiu' the nervous strain and worry of this gi>^rantic 
 enterprise. 
 
 In short, after a total expenditure of one hundred and 
 forty million dollars, the Canadian Pacific Railroad, which 
 is acknowledged to !)(■ one of the greatest engineering 
 feats the world has ever seen, was completed, five )ears 
 before the stipulated time. 
 
 With the opening of the railroad came the tourists 
 and mountaineers, and the commencement of a new period 
 in the history of the Canadian Rockies. 
 
 The short period of one hundred years which nearly 
 covers the entire history of the Canadian Rockies may be 
 divided into four divisions. The first is the period of the 
 fur trade, which may be regarded as beginning with the 
 explorations of Sir Alexander Mackenzie in 1793, and 
 lasting till 1857. 
 
 From 1S58 to 1871 might be called the gold period, 
 for at this time gold-washing and the activity consequent 
 upon this new industry were paramount. 
 
 The next interval of fifteen years might be called the 
 period of railroad surveys and construction, — a time of 
 remarkable activity and progress,— and which rationally 
 closes in 1886, when the first trains began to move across 
 the continent on the new line. 
 
 The last period is that of the tourists, and though as 
 
•9^ 
 
 m 
 
 !56 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 li 
 
 n 
 
 yet it is the shortest of all, it is dtstiiK'd without doubt 
 to 1)1- lonj^cr than any. 
 
 I'lvt'ry one of these periods may 1)0 said to have had a 
 certain effect on the j^^rowth and .idvance of this rej^don. 
 The first period resulted in a jjfreater knowledj^a: of the 
 countr)', and the openinLj up of lines of travt;l, to}j;ether 
 with the establishment of tradinj^ i)osts at certain points. 
 
 The secoml period brouj^ht about the construction of 
 waijon roads in the I'raser Canyon leadinjjj to the Caribou 
 mininj4 rej^don and to other parts of British Columbia. 
 These roads were the oidy routes by wiiich supplies and 
 provisions could be carrieil to the mininj^ camps. The 
 method of }j;old mining practised in British Columbia has 
 hitherto been mostlj' placer minin<;, or mere washing of 
 the gravels found in gold-bearing stream beds. 
 
 With the commencement of the railroad surveys, a 
 great deal of geographical information was obtained in 
 regard to the several ranges of the Rocky Mountain 
 system, and the; culmination of this period was the final 
 establishment of a new route across the contin :it, and the 
 opening up of a vast region to the access of travellers. 
 
 Year by year there are increasing numbers of sportsmen 
 and lovers of wild mountain life who make camping expedi- 
 tions from various points on the railroad, back into the 
 mountains, where they may wander in unexplored regions, 
 and search for game or rare bits of scenery. 
 
 The future popularity of these mountains is in some 
 degree indicated by the fact that those who have once 
 tried even a brief period of camp life among them almost 
 
 VI 
 
 I". : 1 
 
Future Popularity. 
 
 257 
 
 invariably return, year after year, to renew their ex[)eri- 
 ences. The time will eventually come when the number 
 of tourists will warrant the support ot a class of guides, 
 who will conduct mountaineers and sportsmen to points of 
 interest in the wilder parts of the mountains, while well 
 made roads will increase the comfort and rapidity of travel 
 throu_L,di the forests. 
 
ft 
 
 . { 
 
 i I 
 
 ! I 
 
 Pill 
 
 il 
 
 lii 
 
 (;ii.\n"i:i; xv. 
 
 /'//(■ /Vrds/ors (1/ the Xalural Scii-iues — Inltiior of the l-'.arth — 
 Thickness of the ( 'rust — (I'i^in an J ( \iiise of Mountains — Their .■lx(' ond 
 S/o'c Crrouin — System in Mountain A'raiii:;enient~ The Cordillerau Sys- 
 tem — /'//(■ Canadian l\oeldeS' i 'onif^arison loith Otlur Mountain /uxii'us — 
 CVimate — Cause (<f L'hinook Winds — Effeet of ///c^' I atitiide on Sun and 
 Moon — Prineipal (iiinie .Inima.'s — .Vature of the forests- -M ountain 
 Lakes— Cam[^ /■'\fierieiiees'-/-'[feet on the Charaeter. 
 
 T11()S1'". who liavc s[)rm a few weeks or months in a 
 niountain rej^ion, such as that of the Canadian 
 Rockies, must soon come to leei an intiM'est in 
 those more strikins^' features of the wilderness wliich 
 haw l)cen constantly revealed. Tlu' special charact(;r of 
 the inoiuitains. which have L;i\'en so much pleasure ; the cli- 
 mate, on which, in a s^rcat measure, ever)- action dei)ends ; 
 the fauna, wlv.h adils so much of interest to the environ- 
 nu'iU : and t e llora. which increases the lieauty of every 
 scene — must all e.\cit(\ some decree ot intert'st in those 
 who have passed a short period of time surrouiuied hy 
 natiu'e in her primeval state. 
 
 The}' spend their time to little advantaj^e who do nc^t 
 thus become interested in tiie wonders of nature. A very 
 slij^ht knowled_y^e of the iiaiiits and kinds of birds and 
 animals, the principal characteristics of trees and plants, 
 
 J5S 
 
 d: '\ 
 
Interior of tlic li.irtli. 
 
 '59 
 
 ihc natun; of miiicnils, the stniclun^ and formation of tiic 
 c-ailh's crust, antl the laws which oovcrn tiic circulation of 
 currents in the atniospluM-c will, in every case, offer wide 
 and I)oundlcss fields of research and pleasure. The 
 cam|)er, the huntsni.ui, the explorer, antl the mountaineer, 
 armed with such information, will he i)repared to spend 
 the many hours of enforceil idleness, which fre({uently 
 occur hy reason of fickle weather or a smoky atmosphere, 
 in an interesting and profr/'hle manner. 
 
 In the preceding- cha|)lers, the details of the llora and 
 faima, to^etlu-r with digressions on otlvr topics, have 
 been, from tiuK! to lime, set forth in connection with 
 various exploriiiL;- excursions. 
 
 It IS the purpose of this chapter, however, to discuss, in 
 a general ami very brief manner, such (piestions as ha\c 
 a special interest, and to present them in a somewhat 
 more systematic maniun- than was possible, or natural, in 
 connection with accounts of ad\<:ntures. 
 
 To be^in then with the foundation of things, the (pies- 
 tion tirst arises as to the origin an<l cause of mountains. 
 
 Astronomy teaches us that the earth is a mass of molten 
 or semi-viscid m;.. i(m-, covered with a crust which has 
 formed from the coolino- of the exterior. As to tlu; rela- 
 tive or absolute tiiickness of this crust, there; is much di- 
 versity of opinion, but the un;at majorit\- of estimates 
 ranges between the limits of one lumdntl and one thou- 
 sand miles. 
 
 The general features of the eartli and the formation of 
 mountains — subjects which lie in the province of geology 
 
Ml.* 
 1^ t * 
 
 II 
 
 260 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 - likewise point to a comparatively thin crust co\erin!^ a 
 moltt*;i interior. vSome »reolo(rists contend that the centre 
 is like\vis(-- solid, and that there is a partially molten la\er 
 between the centr(^ and crust. Now as the earth ^railu- 
 ally cools by radiation, its volume diminishes, and the solid 
 crust not having- the strenj^rth to hold up its own wei^'ht, is 
 forced to adapt itself to th(i contractino' interior. The 
 pressure thus brous^ht to bear on the thin shell causes 
 wrinkles or folds, so that the earth's surface; is raised in 
 some places ami depressed in oth<;rs. Moreover, the strata 
 are folded, fracturt^d, and thrown one over another as 
 they are compressed, till at lenijth lofty mountain ranj^es 
 are formed, with all the phenomena of faults, (lexures, and 
 the wonderful contortions of the originally horizontal 
 beds, that art: to be observed in all mountain regions. 
 
 In some respects the mountains on the earth are com- 
 parab'e to the wrinkles on a drying apple, but in size, the 
 highest peaks of the Himalayas and Andes have been 
 compared more justly to the minute roughness on an egg 
 shell. 
 
 Thus the mountain ranges of the world which appear 
 so vast and lofty are exceedingly small and insignificant 
 as compared with the g: -at mass of the earth. The 
 strength of the earth's crust seems incapable of supporting 
 the weight of even these relatively small masses, for the 
 highest peaks in the world never exceed an altitude of 
 five and one half miles, a height which, if represented on 
 a globe of ordinary' size, would b.ardly be observable. 
 
 All the threat mountain ranges of the world have been 
 
Growth of Mountains. 
 
 261 
 
 :overing a 
 the centre 
 ilten la\er 
 rth i^nuiu- 
 l the soh'd 
 wei^-ht, is 
 ior. The 
 -11 causes 
 raised in 
 the strata 
 lother as 
 n ran (res 
 ui'es, and 
 orizontal 
 :ions. 
 are corn- 
 size, the 
 ive heen 
 
 1 an eo-e* 
 
 1 appear 
 ^■nificant 
 1. The 
 )portin<^ 
 for the 
 itude of 
 nted on 
 ble. 
 ^'e been 
 
 
 raised to their present altitude since the Tertiary Ajre, 
 but, n(;vertheiess. we must conceive of mountain i^rowth 
 as a very slow and gradual process, a few feet or yards of 
 elevation each century. That mountain cliains have b(;en 
 upheaved at one or two violent convulsions of nature, is 
 not in accordance with reasf)n or geological facts. I^udts 
 are often found with a displacement of the strata through 
 several thousand feet, a fact tliat has been used to prove 
 a sudden catastrophe. But it should be held in mind that, 
 after tlie strata wen- once fractured and made to slide one 
 on another, the sliding would tend to b(; rei)eated at loiu^ 
 intervals in this same place. Even then a yielding of but 
 a few inches would be attended by a violent earthquake. 
 
 Beside the comparatively low altituch; and very slow 
 growth of mountain chains, there is a system in their ar- 
 rangement which aiKls simplicity to the study of this sub- 
 ject. Dana calls attention to the fact that the great 
 mountain chains of the earth are arranged along the bor- 
 ders of continents, and are proportional in height to the 
 size of the oceans near them. The continents of North 
 and .South America reveal this law in a striking mann(;r. 
 The stupendous chain of tht- Andes in South America, and 
 the more extensive Rocky Mountains in North America, 
 stand opposite to the vast Pacific Ocean, and run nearly par- 
 allel to its shores, while the lesser systems on the east(M-n 
 borders of each continent face the lesser area of the Atlantic 
 Ocean. Moreover, almost all mountain chains show evi- 
 dence of a pushing force from the direction of tin; sea, 
 and a resisting force from the direction of the land. 
 
"; ) i^ 
 
 26: 
 
 'I'hc Canadian Rockies. 
 
 .; I 
 
 I 
 
 t I 
 
 The erosion of valleys commenced as soon as the 
 strata were elevated above the sea-le\'el, and tluis the 
 valleys of the world, being mostly those of erosion, are 
 older tlian the mountains themselves. 
 
 Turning" now to the; Rocky Mountains or thi; Cor- 
 ililleran System of North America, we observe that the 
 chai.i extends from tlie region of th(; City of Mexico to 
 the Arctic Ocean., anil westward into the Alaskan Penin- 
 sula and the Aleutian Islands, a total distance of about 
 live thousand miles, Tlie Rock\' Mountain system 
 attains its greatest width in the latitude of Coloraclo, 
 where it (.^xtcntls (..e thousand luiles from (;ast to west. 
 Thenc(; northward, the range becomes narrower toward 
 the International Ijoundary. Im'oiu this point the s\'stem 
 is only about lour hundred miles in width, and the eastern 
 range follows a line parallel to the Pacitic Coast, nearly 
 to the Arctic Circle'. 
 
 I l;i.\ ing thus \ery brietly glanc(,;d at the cause of moun- 
 tain chains, the system in their arrangement, and the 
 area covered b\- the lvoek\- Mountains of North America, 
 let us turn our attention more; particular!)- to the main 
 features (;f the chain in its extension through Canada. In 
 all, there are four ranges of mountains composing the 
 Canadian Rockies. The most easterl)' is the highest and 
 most import uit, and is, iiesides, the watershed between 
 the .Vtlanti; and Pacific drainage. Next to the west lie 
 the Selkirk and Cold ranges, which must be grouped 
 together. Near the Pacific Coast is a third range calletl 
 the Coast Range, white Vancouver Islaiul and the chain 
 
• 
 
 Altitude of the Canadian Rockies. 
 
 '^3 
 
 of islands cxtcndin*,'- north represent a fourth rant^e of 
 mountains. Between the two inner of these four ranges, 
 there is a plateau re«,nrn with an averag-e altitude of 3500 
 feet. 
 
 Our attention centres witli peculiar interest on the 
 watershed or Summit Ranij^e, as in these mountains are 
 found tlie grandest scenery and the most lofty peaks, and 
 they are withal the most accessible to the traxciler. On 
 the eastern side, the Rocky Mountains rise abruptly from 
 the plains and reach altitudes of 9000 to i 1,000 feet. The 
 plain is here, accordin.^" to Dr. Dawson, about 4350 feet in 
 altitude, while on the western side of the ranj^e the altitude 
 of tlie Columbia valley is only 2450 feet, or nearlv 2000 
 feet lower. The Summit Ransje is from fort)' to llft\- miles 
 wide in this portion of its course, and is made up of about 
 five sub-rany;cs. 'i'he rivt:rs and streams follow tin.' valic\s 
 between these ramies, and fmd their wa\' out of the moun- 
 tains l)y occasional, transverse vallej's, cuttin>r throui^h 
 the ranges at right angles, so that every stream has a zi"-- 
 
 zag course. 
 
 It would lead us too far to discuss the formations rep- 
 resented in the strata, and it is more important to learn 
 the altitudes of the; mountains al)oye the valleys, and their 
 other physical features, since these charr.ctcn'istics have 
 a more dirc!Ct bearing on the scener_\- and on the general 
 natun of the mountains. The highest peaks of the Ca- 
 nadian R(jckies rise from 500c-) to 7000 feet above the 
 valleys, and rarely surjjass 11.000 or i 2,000 feet allilude 
 abo\e sea-l(;vel. Thus they cannot compare in magnitud.- 
 
If^ 
 
 . I 
 
 5f ' 
 
 I! 
 
 f 
 
 Hi 
 
 ■: I 
 
 IH'I 
 
 : .1 
 
 » J^ 
 
 Hit 
 
 ^9P 
 
 264 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 with the Himalayas, the Andes, or even the Swiss Alps. 
 They, however, are more accessible than the Himalayas, 
 are far more attractive than the Andes, and afford much 
 t^reater variety of scenery, tojj^ether with more beauty of 
 vegetation, than the .Alps. No picturesque hamlets adorn 
 these valleys, no herds of cattle with tinklintj bells pas- 
 ture on these hillsides, and no well-made roads or maps 
 guide the tourist to every point of interest ; but, on the 
 other hand, the climber may ascend mountains never 
 tried before, the explorer may roam in wild valleys hith- 
 erto practically unseen by white men ; and the camper 
 mav fish or hunt where no one besides the savage Indian 
 has ever lowered a baited hook or joined in the stealthy 
 chase. 
 
 Before leavio;,^ the discussion of geology, it would be 
 well to call attention to the wonderful effects of ancient 
 glacial action, everywhere in evidence among these moun- 
 tains. The countless lakes were, almost without exception, 
 formed in the Quaternary ice invasion. A few of the 
 lakes occupy rock basins, and more are dammed by old 
 terminal moraines, while the vast majority are held in by 
 ridees of drift formed underneath the glaciers where they 
 joined together at the confluence of valleys. Mention 
 has already been made of the evidence of ic(; action 
 on the summit oi Tunnel Mountain, near Banff, show- 
 ing that the ice was at least 1000 feet in thickness, 
 but on the neighboring mountains there are further evi- 
 dences that the ancient glaciers Hooded this valley to 
 a 4epth of 2700 or 2800 '"^et. Such evidences may 
 
 lii 
 
 ef 
 
Climate. 
 
 265 
 
 be traced up the valley of the Bow to its source, 
 when! the up[)er surfaces of the j^daciers were no less 
 than 8500 or 9000 feet above sea-level, though these ice 
 streams were about the same thickness as at Hanff, 
 Ix-cause the valleys are much higher at this point. 
 Throughout the eastern range, all the valleys were 
 flooded, while only the mountain tops rose above the 
 fields of ice, and the creeping glaciers moved slowly tlown 
 the valleys and discharged in a great sheet of ice upon 
 the plains to the east. 
 
 The climate of the Canadian Rockies is exceedingly 
 cold in winter and temp(;rate in summer, but the air is at 
 all times so dry that changes of temperature are not felt 
 as in lowland regions. The rainfall in summer is light, 
 and rarely attended by heavy showers. I'he amount of 
 snow and rainfall varies locally in a remarkable manner, by 
 reason of the mountains themselves. Thus the maximum 
 winter depth of the snow in the Bow valley may be two or 
 three feet, when up in the higher regions, only five or six 
 miles distant, the de^)!^!^ vill approach fifteen or twenty 
 feet. That mountains have a great influence on the 
 climate and the amount of rainfall, is universally admit- 
 ted. In fact, climate and mountains are mutually 
 dependent one on the other. A range of mountains near 
 the sea coast, if the circulation of the atmosphere carries 
 the moist air over them, will cause a great precipitation 
 of rain aiul snow, and, vice versa, the amount of pre- 
 cipitation decides the erosive power of streams, and con- 
 sequently, the altitude and form of the mountains. 
 
 t9 
 
; \ 
 
 n 
 
 Jilli 
 
 
 266 
 
 f, 
 
 If 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 Oik; of tile most interesting^ features of the Canadian 
 Rocl<ies is the Ciiinook wind. Tiiest; peculiar winds 
 occur at all seas(jns of tlie year l)ut arc most noticeable 
 in winter. At such times, aftt^r a period of intense frost, 
 a wind springs up from the w(;st, directK' from the moun- 
 tains, th(; temperature rises, and tlic; snow disappears as if 
 by mai^ic. The air is so (h'v tliat th(! snow and moisture 
 eva[)orate at once, Icavin;^ tht; ground perfectly fn^e of 
 moistUH', where a few hours l)ef(jr(; was a deep covering' 
 of snow. Identical winds called Foc'hii winds occur in 
 Switzerland, and in other mountain regions of the world. 
 The explanation of these winds has been stated by lu.'rrel 
 and others, but it is difficult of demonstration to those 
 who do not understaiul the; laws ^'overninL;' condensation 
 and e\a[)oration of moisture; in our atmosphere. Most of 
 these laws ma\' be clearl)' illustrated by an experiment 
 not \-er\' tlilficult to perform. A slout i^lass cylinder, 
 closed at one eiul, is litted with a close!)- fitting plunger, 
 N(nv if a tuft of cotton, moistened with ether, be placed 
 in the cylinder, and the pluntjer be suddenix and forcibly 
 pushed in, the cotton will take fire. The compression of 
 llie air raises the temperature; so that tlu; cotton ignites. 
 The (;xperiment miL^ht ha\e been re\ersed, and the 
 plunger pulled suddenly outwards so as to rarefy the 
 enclosed air. In this case the temperature of the air 
 would have been much reduced, and, if then; were suffi- 
 cient moisture, it would condense on the sides of the 
 cylii'Xler or form a cloud ol A'apor. These exp(;riments 
 are exceedingK- valuable, as they demonstrate; the; laws 
 
Chinook Winch 
 
 >67 
 
 of temperature under changing pressure. Moreover, it 
 shows how cold air discharges its moisture in the form 
 of a mist, and thus illustrates the formation of the 
 clouds in the upj^er cold regioiis of our atmosphere. 
 Now the circulation of the air in the Canadian Rockies 
 is, in geii(,.ral, from the Pacific Ocean across the moun- 
 tains in an easterl\- direction. It is, of course, interfered 
 with hy the circular cyclonic storms which, from lime to 
 time, pass over the mountains. lUit when one or both 
 causes of air motion compel the wind to blow from the 
 west towards the; east, the moist currents are forced to 
 ascend and flow over the mountains. In this case the air 
 becomes colder as it rises, mist and clouds an; formed, 
 and rain or snow falls, especially on the mountains them- 
 selves. As the air descends on the eastern side it becomes 
 warmer in the increasing ijressure, and the clouds exapcjraie 
 and disappear. Now this air is much drit!r than when it 
 left the other side of the mountains, because a }';reat deal 
 of rain and snow have been precipitatc'd from it. More- 
 ov<'r, the; latent heat given out as the clouds form, raises 
 the temperature of the air above the normal temperature 
 of those altitudes. This air gains ht at as it descends, and 
 is subjected to the increasing jiressure of lower altitudes, 
 and it fmally aj)pears as a warm and very dry wind on the 
 east side of the mountains. Such a wind evaporates the 
 snow, and causes it to disappear in a remarkably rai)id 
 manner. 
 
 The cause of Chinook winds Is thus not difticult of 
 explanation, if one understands the effects of atmospheric 
 
 jT 
 
' h 
 
 )l! 
 
 ?68 
 
 Tlic Canadian Rockies. 
 
 pressure and condensation. The latent h(!at given out by 
 the condi'nsing va[)ors and falling rain is of course equal 
 to the heat furnished hy the sun, wh(Mi it was evaporating 
 the surface waters of the ocean, and rendering th(^ air full 
 of invisiljle water vapor. 
 
 The aspect of the sk)' and clouds is one of tlie most 
 beautiful features of the mountains. I'^xcept when ob- 
 scured by the smoke of forest fires, the sk\- is at all 
 times of that deep hue rarely seen near the sea-coast 
 or in lowland regions. The dark blue extends without 
 apparent paleness to the very horizon, while the zenith 
 is of such a deep color, especially when seen from the sum- 
 mit of a lofty mountain, as to suggest the blackness 
 of interstellar space. Against such a background, the 
 brilliant cumulus clouds stand out in striking contrast, 
 and ever\' internal movement of the forminir or dissolvinsf 
 vapors, as they rise, and descend, or curl about, is dis- 
 tinctly seen, because the clouds are so near. 
 
 The high latitude of this region has, of course, a con- 
 siderable effect on the length of the days. Near the sum- 
 mer solstice the twilight is faintly visible all night, and the 
 sun is below the horizon only a little more than six hours. 
 The moon, however, is rarely visible in the summer months, 
 because when near the full it occupies that part of the 
 ecli|)tic opposite the sun, which, in this latitude, is much 
 depressed. In consequence, the full moon runs her short 
 arc so near tlie horizon that the high mountains shut out 
 all view of her. In winter, these conditions are reversed, 
 and the moon shines from the clear and frosty sky with 
 
 i 
 
 I 
 
 
(ianic Animals. 
 
 269 
 
 unusual In illiancy, for many hours continuously, wliiK; tlu, 
 lo\v-lyin_i;- sun Icavt's man\' of th<: tU'cpcr mountain \allcys 
 without the benefit of his slantinj^' rays fur several months 
 toijether. 
 
 It would l)e imi)Ossiijle to ciuuncratt; cncu the princi- 
 [)al \arieties of j^ame animals, ])ir(ls, aiul lish that inhabit 
 this region. Tlie mountain .L;oat and sherp ha\'e been 
 mentioned in previous chapters, and many of the inter- 
 estin_L,f animals fre(|uent])- met with have been described 
 in more or less detail. The ordinary explorer or camper 
 will see very litth; of the larger -^ame, as he moves aloiijjj- 
 with a nois)' train of pack-horses and shoutini.;' men to 
 drive them. He may occasionally see a bear, or catch 
 sight of an elk or caribou, but the wary moos(! and the 
 other members of th(; deer tribe will rarel)' or never be 
 seen without an organized hunt. The camper will come 
 to rely on the smaller game to give variety to his camp 
 fare. Chief among these will b(; the grouse, of which 
 there are six species in the Canadian Rockies. One 
 variety is tame, or rather very stupiil, and may be 
 knocked down with stones, or snared with a strong elas- 
 tic noose at the end of a pole. These birds are so numer- 
 ous in the forests that one may always rely on getting a 
 brace for dinner, after a little search, and I have even seen 
 them walking about on the main street of lianff, where, 
 of course, they are protected by law. Most of the moun- 
 tain streams abound in trout, except where a high water- 
 fall below has intercepted their coming up the stream. 
 The larger lakes likewise afford fine fishing, and in many 
 
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 WEBSTER, N.Y 14580 
 
 (716) 872-4503 
 
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 270 
 
 The ('anadian Rockies. 
 
 cases swarm with lake trout of a remarkable size. The 
 camper will often obtain wild fowl, the black dvick, mal- 
 lards, and teal, in his excursions. Outside of these 
 game birds and fish, there is little left for him to rely- 
 on, unless he chooses to dine on marmots and porcu- 
 pines. These are often extolled by travellers as most 
 excellent eating, but I have tried them both, and would 
 prefer to leave my share to others, while there is any- 
 thing else on hand. 
 
 The vegetation of the Canadian Rockies deserves a 
 few remarks. The principal trees are all conifers. There 
 are about six or seven species of these in the eastern 
 range, and several more in the Selkirks. The paucity in 
 the variety of deciduous trees in the Rocky Mountains, 
 and the great number of conifers on the Pacific slope of 
 North America, are in striking contrast to the wonderful 
 number of deciduous species in the forests east of the 
 MississipjH River. In the latter region, the number of 
 species of forest trees is nowhere exceeded in the world, 
 outside of tropical regions. Another remarkable fact in 
 this connection was stated by Gray. He calls attention 
 to the fact that there is a greater similarity, and affinity 
 of species, between the Atlantic Coast trees and those of 
 far distant Japan, than with those of the Pacific slope. 
 
 In the Canadian Rockies, trees cease to grow at alti- 
 tudes above 7500 feet, under the most favorable cir- 
 cumstances, and the average tree line is in reality about 
 7000 feet. Hushes of the heath family and Alpine plants, 
 however, reach much higher, while dwarfed flowering 
 
The 
 
 Upper Bow Lake. 
 
 Looking south. 
 
■ 
 
 
 h^H 
 
 i 
 
 
 ii 
 
 4 
 
til 
 
 1 1 
 
 ^ 
 
■ni 
 
 Pleasures of Cami^ Life. 
 
 71 
 
 herbs may be found in blossom as liij^h as S700 or SSoo 
 feet. I once found a small mat of bri,L,dit yellow sechims 
 on the summit of a mountain, 9100 feet above sea-level, 
 but this was an (txceptional case. .Above this altitude, 
 various stone-gray, bri-,dit yellow, or red lichens, ar<! the 
 only sign of vegetable life. Nevertheless, in such cheer- 
 less regions of high altitudes, one .sees a considerable 
 variety of insect life — butterflies, wasps, mosquitoes, and 
 spiders. The latter insects may sometimes be seen crawl- 
 ing about on the snow after winter has commenced, and 
 naturalists have often described them as one of tlie 
 most abundant insects on Ixirren. volcanic islands of 
 the Atlantic Ocean, where there is scarcely a trace of 
 
 vegetation. 
 
 The pleasures of camping in the Canadian Rockies 
 are almost infmite in their variety. They vary with the 
 locality and the scenic interest of the surroundin<:s, and 
 suffer a constant change of mood and aspect with the 
 changing weather. There is an exhilarating buoyancy in 
 the mountain air that conspires to make all things appear 
 as though seen through some cheerful medium, and where 
 nature is so lavish with countless things of rare interest 
 on every side, one comes at length to regard all other 
 places unworthy of comparison. The formation of these 
 mountains is such as to present an infinite variation of 
 outline and altitude, such as one observes in almost no 
 other mountain region of the world. The mountaineer may 
 stand on the summit ot a lofty peak and behold a sea of 
 mountains extending fifty or one hundred miles in every 
 
jmm 
 
 272 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 I 
 
 ; i 
 
 ! 
 
 I 
 
 m 
 
 direction, with no plains or distant ocean to sujrgest a limit 
 to their extent. Such a vast area, nearly half a thou- 
 sand miles in width, and thousands of miles in length, pre- 
 sents an e-xtent of mountain ranges such as are found in no 
 other part of the world. 
 
 The exquisite charm and beauty of the lakes, so 
 numerous in every part of the mountains, is one of the 
 chief delights of the camper. Some are small and soli- 
 tary, perched in some amphitheatre far up among the 
 mountains, surrounded by rocky walls, and hemmed in by 
 great blocks of stone. Here, no trees withstand the 
 Alpine climate, and the water surface is free of ice only 
 during a short season. A few Alpine flowers and grasses 
 wave in the summer breezes, while the loud whistling 
 marmots, and the picas ever sounding their dismal notes, 
 live among the rocks, and find shelter in their crevices. 
 
 Other lakes, at lower altitudes, are concealed among 
 the dark forests, and, with deep waters, richly colored, 
 appear like gems in their seclusion. Here the wild 
 duck, the diver, and the loon resort in search of food, 
 for the sedgy shores abound with water rice, and the 
 waters with fish. 
 
 Most of the mountain lakes are small, and hide in 
 secluded valleys, but many are large enough to become 
 rough and angry in a storm, and have beaten out for them- 
 selves narrow beaches of gravel and shores lined with sand. 
 
 Even the sounds of the mountains and the forests 
 give constant pleasure. There is every quality and vol- 
 ume of sound, from the loud rumble of thunder, or the 
 
 Mil 
 
so 
 
 Emerald Lake and Mount Field. 
 
T 
 

 
Camp Hxjjcricnccs. 
 
 2-3 
 
 terrible crash of avalanches, re-echoed amon},^ the nioiiii- 
 tains, to th»! sharp, interrupted report of fallinj^^ rocks, the 
 roar of torrents, or the ^i:\nU: nnirnuir of sonic purlinj^r 
 stream. The sighin^r of the wind in the forests, the 
 siisurrant pines and spruces, the drowsy Juini of insects, 
 tlu; ripple of water on the shores of a lake, and the myriad 
 sounds of nature— half heard, half felt- conspire to make 
 up the sum of the camper's pleasure ; thon_i;h in a manner 
 so vague and indescribable that they must neetls he ex- 
 pt.'rienced to be unilerstood. 
 
 Nor are all the experiences of camp life attended by 
 pure enjoyment alone. Mountair ulveiitures comprise 
 a multitude of pleasures, minjijled many times with disaj)- 
 pointment and physical suffering. Tlu-y comprise all the 
 scale of sensations, from those marked by the pains of 
 extreme exhaustion, physical weakness, hunger, ami coKl. 
 to those of the greatest exhilaration and pleasure, j-or- 
 tunately. the sensations of pleasure are by far the more 
 abundant, while those of pain almost invariably follow 
 some rash act or error in judgment. 
 
 The effect on the health and strength is. of course. 
 
 one of the chief advantages of camp life. But there is 
 
 another beneficial result brought about by this mannt^r 
 
 of life that is more important, though less often taken 
 
 into consideration. This is the effect that camp life has 
 
 on the character. In the first place, one learns the value 
 
 of perseverance, for without this quality nothing can be 
 
 accomplished in such a region as the Canadian Rockies. 
 
 The explorer will realize this when he comes to a lone- 
 18 * 
 
ft 
 
 (i 
 
 274 
 
 The Canadian Rockies. 
 
 stretch of burnt timber, where his horses flounder in a 
 maze of prostrate trees ; and the climber will feel the 
 need of continued resolution when, after a long and ardu- 
 ous climb to an apparent summit, he reaches it only to 
 find the slope extending indefinitely upwards. 
 
 The quality of patience under toil and aggravation 
 while on the march — patience with tired horses and weary 
 men — patience under the distress of wet underbrush, or 
 uncomfortable quarters, or, indeed, when tormented by 
 mosquitoes, is one of the prime requisites of life in the 
 wilderness. 
 
 While these qualities are more or less common to 
 every one, they are much developed in mountain camp 
 life. But, perhaps, the ability to judge quickly and well 
 is that characteristic which is most needed among the 
 mountains, and the one which is attended by the most 
 suffering if it is not brought into play. If the explorer 
 or mountaineer decides on the time of day when he must 
 turn back, and then, under the temptation of seeing a 
 little more, or of reaching another summit, delays his 
 return, let him not bewail his fate if he is caught by dark- 
 ness in the forest and is compelled to [jass a sleepless, 
 hungry night. The laws of nature are inexorable, and 
 while we obey them there is abundant opportunity of 
 pleasure, but if we expose ourselves to the grinding of 
 her vast machinery, one must suffer the consequence. 
 The storm will not abate merely because we are exposed 
 to it, nor will our strength be renewed merely because 
 we are far from camp. 
 
Canijj Necessaries. 
 
 275 
 
 Let the camper surround himself with all the luxuries 
 that are possible without trespassing- on the bounds of 
 reason. Let him have a good cook and a good packer ; 
 horses that are used to the trail ; a fine camp outfit ; com- 
 fortable blankets and good tents ; a full sui)ply of cook- 
 ing utensils, knives, forks, and spoons ; above all, let him 
 take an abundant supply of provisions, comprising a large 
 variety of dried fruits and the various cereals, and let 
 each article be of the best quality. 
 
 Under such circumstances there is no risk of danger, 
 no opportunity for discomfort, especially if every action 
 is controlled by a moderate amount of judgment ; but, on 
 the other hand, the rich experiences among the mountains 
 will prove a store of physical and mental resources, the 
 memory of which will tempt him to revisit these regions 
 year after year. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Abbott, Mount '"'"''' 
 
 Agnes, Lake 
 
 " depth of "^^ 
 
 . 43 
 
 in winter • 
 
 ,..1 f "* 
 
 solitude I if 
 
 Air circulation in Canailian Rockies. . ^? 
 
 Alders in Selkirks ' '^ 
 
 I'^C 
 
 Alpine insects, varieties of 
 
 271 
 
 " plants 
 
 2T 
 
 American Fur Companv • • • -, 
 
 . ' ■' 23S 
 
 Anemones 
 
 , . ., . , Ul7 
 
 AssMuboine, another name for Stoneys 
 
 Assiniboine, Mount, altitude of 
 
 li ,, t . e '7/ 
 
 features of ,.„ 
 
 ,, , , , I/O 
 
 first circuit of ^a 
 
 " view of ■■ '■ 
 
 outline , 
 
 ,, 150 
 
 south side of 
 
 Astley, Mr "'" '"* 
 
 Athabasca Pass 
 
 2J*1 
 
 Atmosphere, eastward movement of 
 
 Avalanche from Mount Lefrov. . 
 
 33 
 
 lialsam tir 
 
 qS 
 
 Banlf, altitude. 
 
 ,. II 
 
 climate 
 
 , . 11,15 
 
 locatnn 
 
 l)0]Hilation 
 
 " Springs Hotel 
 
 surroundinL's 
 
 '^ 3 
 
 topography of 
 
 Barometer, diurnal minima of 
 
 Hean, Mr "^ 
 
 ^2 
 
 Bear's Paw, chief of Stoneys 
 
 Beehive, the ' "''^ 
 
 altitude of ■< , 44 
 
 44 
 
 277 
 
2 78 
 
 Index. 
 
 ii 1 
 
 ::^( 
 
 
 Ulnckiston, Lieut ^ w^ 
 
 Hliiid valleys 
 
 Boiirgeau, M 24O 
 
 Bow Lakes , 
 
 " " future popularity of jn 
 
 " Lake, Lower . 
 
 " " Upper ::::::::::::;:;::;;;::::::;:: ,05 
 
 " River 
 
 British Columbia ^,, 
 
 Brown, Mounl, altitude of jg 
 
 Bull-dofT flies 2S 
 
 Butterflies, habits of 
 
 /3 
 
 Caledonia, New ^ a 
 
 Calypso borealis j ^ 
 
 Cand)rian Age, reference to .g 
 
 Canada, highest point reached in j,, 
 
 Canadian National Park , 
 
 " I'acilic Road, cost of „.. 
 
 ., . ^35 
 
 Kiickies, comparisons of jfu 
 
 Cannibalism, anecdote of ^ .2 
 
 Canoe River 240 
 
 Caribou mining region ^,g 
 
 Cascade Mountain, ascent of 
 
 ,, ^^ , 14 
 
 descri])lion of , 
 
 origin of name (^ 
 
 Castilleias . ., _ 
 
 107 
 
 Castle Crags ^ 
 
 Cave and basin at Banff 
 
 Chalet at Lake Louise 22 
 
 " "1^1 y.\'y.\y.y.y.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'. .6 
 
 Character, effect of camp life on 073 
 
 Cheops, Mount j „ 
 
 Chiniipiy, Tom ,_ 
 
 Chinook winds, cause of „fif^ 
 
 Chipmunks f 
 
 Cirque ^^ 
 
 Climate of Canadian Rockies j^,. 
 
 Cloud effects 3^^ g^ 
 
 Coast Range 262 
 
 Condensation of clouds ,,(,7 
 
 Condition, physical g 
 
 Continental watershed |g ,. 
 
 Cortrast of surroundings . 
 
 Cold weather in Septemlier ,i 
 
 Colorado, altitude of mountains in o_ 
 
 Color, sunset and sunrise ^q 
 
Index. 
 
 279 
 
 I'AGH 
 
 Columbia River ,20 
 
 Columbine, yellow k, 
 
 Cook, Cajitain 210 
 
 " " explorations of 237 
 
 Corililleran System 262 
 
 Coiireuis di's hois 221 
 
 Cox, Ross ., „, 
 
 "-V^ 
 
 Crees, Mountain 52 
 
 Crevasses, clangers of 203 
 
 Cross River i y , 
 
 Daly Mountain iqt 
 
 Dawson, Dr., on Stoney Indians 52 
 
 Desolation Valley n,^ 
 
 Devil's Club 12c 
 
 " Head ...!.."!...". "7 
 
 Lake f, 
 
 " " Indian legend of g 
 
 Diamond hitch j ,2 
 
 Dominion of Canada 252 
 
 Eagle Pass 254 
 
 Peak ,26 
 
 " " later attempts on I2(j 
 
 Earth, interior of 259 
 
 Edith, Mount, Pass 219 
 
 Epilobiuni 107 
 
 Experiences in camp 273 
 
 Exjiloration, pleasure of 75, 96 
 
 Forlies, Mount, altitude of , \%^ 
 
 Forest fires, ancient \%% 
 
 " " causes of 1 8S 
 
 " tire smoke 1 1 
 
 Forests, near Lake Louise 38 
 
 " of Pacific Coast 135 
 
 " regeneration of Kp 
 
 " Selkirk 125 
 
 Forest trees, replacement of loo 
 
 P'raser, Simon 23(1 
 
 " River, first exploraticm of 238 
 
 Fur trade, origin of 220 
 
 Glacier, House 121 
 
 " debris 55 
 
 " thickness of ice in 78 
 
 Cilissading, method of 70 
 
 (■oat, Rocky Mountain 117, 163, 164 
 
 Gold, discovery of 245 
 
2 So 
 
 Ind 
 
 ex. 
 
 
 «1 
 
 (lolden-rod, Alpine species ^o 
 
 I Juki Range 262 
 
 Great Mountain 77, 80 
 
 " Slave Lake, origin of name 231 
 
 (Ireen, I)r jji 
 
 Grouse. 
 
 2(19 
 
 Ma/el Teak, altitude loS 
 
 Hector, Dr 10, 24(1 
 
 Hector, Mount 2l6 
 
 lleely's (reek Ijy 
 
 Hermit Range 127 
 
 Hooker, Mount, altitude of lg^^ 
 
 Huberand Sul/er 124 
 
 Hudson Day Company 224, 226 
 
 Ice Age 5, 
 
 " pdlars 
 
 Indian, ability to follow traiK 
 
 " fiankness 
 
 gratitude 
 
 habits of 
 
 idea concerning wecjiii 
 
 Koolanie 
 
 loqiKuity 
 
 pathos 
 
 sarcasm 
 
 summer 
 
 trails 
 
 264 
 56 
 49 
 ('3 
 51 
 50 
 
 234 
 
 247 
 
 8 
 
 51 
 
 100 
 
 2q 
 212 
 
 Kananaskis I'ass, legend of o 1(3 
 
 Kicking Horse I'ass, discovery <ji 050 
 
 " " River, origin of name 249 
 
 Kootanie Ri\ er, direction of flow j oq 
 
 Laggan, distance from Danfl (,o 
 
 " ilislatice to Lake Louise 24 
 
 " ' " Mount Temple 7,^ 
 
 Lake Louise, altitude of 22 
 
 " " depth of jy 
 
 " " early morning at 26 
 
 " " forests about 23 
 
 " " highest recorded tem{;eratiire at 22 
 
 " ■' in October 
 
 " " past history of forest* al 
 
 " " ]irevalent wind at 21 
 
 " " si/e and shape of |(, 
 
 31 
 
 ^4 
 
 U'M 
 
Ind 
 
 ex. 
 
 281 
 
 I'Af.K 
 
 Lake Louise, summer temperature of water -j(, 
 
 " " to])Of;ia|iliy of region near ^i, 
 
 " " visitnrs at. . . . 22 
 
 Lakes in Canailian RucUies 0^2 
 
 Lake trout, si/c of (, 202 
 
 Laurel, slieej) ',_ k, 
 
 Lcfroy, Mount, avalanche from ... q„ 
 
 " " description of j)^ 
 
 precipices of. 
 
 3-1. 90 
 
 Linnea borealis jyc 
 
 Little P'ork I'ass, altitude of 208 
 
 Lyall's larch jij 
 
 Mackay, Ale.\an<ler 2'12 
 
 Mackenzie, Sir Alexander 22() 
 
 " River, discovery of 231 
 
 Mackenzie's plan for an overlnnd route 238 
 
 Ma|)le trees j-e 
 
 Marion Lake. 
 
 130 
 
 Mariposa Cirove joc 
 
 M armots 
 
 Milton and Clieadle 
 
 Minerals on mountain sides . 
 
 Minnewanka Lake 
 
 Mirror Lake 
 
 Moon, effect of latitude on. . 
 Morlev 
 
 •■»2 
 
 Mosipiitoes, annual disappearance of ... 25, 
 
 Mountains, age of 
 
 ' ' altitude of 
 
 " comparative size of 
 
 " origin and cause of 
 
 " system in arrangement 
 
 Mountaineers, trilmlations of 
 
 Mounted Police, Northwest 
 
 Murchison, M ount 
 
 Muskegs 
 
 • 43. 'Of' 
 
 • • 252 
 
 •• J73 
 8 
 
 . 45 
 
 268 
 
 51 
 igq 
 261 
 263 
 260 
 
 A'i'ti' regions 
 
 Northwest Company 
 
 ilownfall of. 
 " Mounted Police 
 
 2?<) 
 261 
 
 "3 
 
 2 
 
 207 
 
 4" 
 
 5f) 
 224 
 
 22<; 
 
 Outlit for camp 2-':; 
 
 Pacific Coast reached hy Mackenzie 
 
 Pack-horses, difficulties with 
 
 " " nature of 2, . 
 
 " " remarkable experience with 105 
 
 234 
 
 102 
 
2S; 
 
 Ind 
 
 ex. 
 
 !1 
 
 I! 
 
 Ii»ll' 1. . PACK 
 
 I all sir ox|if(lition 
 
 I'aiadisc Valliv ^'*^ 
 
 41 ., ' ,. , 91.105 
 
 .1 ,, . ^ <>t 
 
 111 winter 
 
 II ., , .. 117 
 
 location 
 
 Patience, need of, in camp life '* 
 
 _ 1 ••••. ,, ^ 27*1 
 
 Pence River, orJL'in of name 
 
 I'eechee ==3' 
 
 1 erscverance, need of, in camp life 
 
 Peyto, William """* 
 
 Phlox, alpine 
 
 nn 
 
 Pica, tailless hare ' 
 
 Pinnacle Mountain '°' 
 
 Plateau region 9 . <J7 
 
 Pleasure of camp life ^ ^ 
 
 , . * 271 
 
 I tarmiuan ' 
 
 *" :(, 
 
 (Jnesiiel, [tiles 
 
 238 
 
 Rat, wood 
 
 Rhododendron 
 
 „ . , , 20 
 
 Koijer s Pass 
 
 **'* * ., 2^A 
 
 Ruiidle Mountain 
 
 Rundle's early visit to Haiiff region 
 
 Kundle tlie missionary 
 
 Rupert, Prince 
 
 224 
 
 Saddle, the 
 
 SasUatcliewan 
 
 .Scenery at hiq-h altitudes c 
 
 ,. , , , 45i 89, io8 
 
 S,/iriiii,/s, cause of 
 
 Selkirk Range, humidity of 
 
 Selkirks, early |)opularity of 
 
 lorest trees 
 
 ,. ,. , .. 132 
 
 geographical imsition 
 
 Sheep, mountain 
 
 ^. ,, 10 
 
 himpson I'ass 
 
 •' River '■+■' 
 
 .Sii deorce 
 
 . ^ 244 
 
 Simpson s, Sir George, expedition 
 
 Sky, color of, in mountains ' ro 
 
 26S 
 
 Smoke of forest fires 
 
 Snow line, determination of, 
 
 . „ , , ',tj 
 
 in Colorado and the .Andes 
 
 " patches, effect on vegetation - ' 
 
 " storm in Tune 
 
 ■^ 12 
 
 Solitude of high altitudes . . , . 
 
 '^ 215 
 
 Sounds, forest and mountain 
 
 273 
 
Index. 
 
 =«:> 
 
 I'KC.R 
 
 Spray R i vcr ^ 
 
 S|iriicf tn-L^ 38 
 
 Storus, liiDse, danger of, in Canadian Rockies 5(j, 61) 
 
 Htoncy Indians, characteristics of 51 
 
 " " dress of 52 
 
 " " nature of (j 
 
 " " ralliser's account of 53 
 
 " " religion of ^2 
 
 Storms, approach ol '-'7, 81 
 
 " mountain ijO 
 
 St. I'iran, flowers and butterflies 72, 73 
 
 " summit of -i 
 
 Stuart, John 230 
 
 Sullivan, Mr 246 
 
 Sul/L-r and Iluher 124 
 
 Surveys for railroa<l 253 
 
 Temple, Mount, altitude -3 
 
 " " first ascent of j 15 
 
 " " avalanches from yn 
 
 " " first attempt to ascend loo 
 
 " " maximum temperature on summit 116 
 
 " " north side of no 
 
 strata of. 
 
 " " summit of nf, 
 
 Thirst, method of quenching y^ 
 
 Thunderstorms in mountains 28 
 
 Tourists at Banff 2 
 
 Tree line 
 
 Trees, age of 
 
 " " at Lake Louise 
 
 Tunnel Mountain 
 
 Twilight, length of 
 
 Twin, William 
 
 Valleys, age of 
 
 "' blind 
 
 Van Home, Sir William 
 
 Vegetation of Canadian Rockies. . . . 
 
 Vermilion Pass 
 
 Plain 
 
 River 
 
 Vitality of mountain trees and herbs. 
 
 V0V£ 
 
 yageurs. 
 
 Waputelik Range 
 
 Wasps and bull-dog flies 
 
 \\ iUlnian, I'noch ^8, 
 
 Wilson, Tom 
 
 270 
 
 135 
 
 23 
 
 4 
 
 4S 
 
 21'' 
 
 254 
 270 
 
 iSr 
 
 24S 
 
 "70 
 
 12 
 
 221 
 
 183 
 25 
 
 IK) 
 
 138