From Owen Sound we went by steamboat across Lake Huron and Lake Superior to Port William, which is in connection with the Canadian-Pacific Railway. The lake scenery is very beautiful, and was a pleasant change after the dusty train. We were three hours passing through the lock which divides the two lakes. As the steamboats are run on strictly temperance principles, and no wine or spirit of any description allowed on board--although we were fed with such dainties as frogs’ legs and soft-shell crab--the excitement was great on seeing a little shanty by the lock where home-brewed beer could be obtained. There was a frantic rush on shore, and the little inn must have reaped a harvest that day. Whilst waiting at the lock I was much interested in seeing large quantities of timber floating over the rapids, having come downstream hundreds of miles from the Canadian forests. The wood is caught by huge nets made of chains, and just by the side of the lock is a storage depot, where the timber is collected and cut into planks. We had some excellent lake trout for dinner, and in the evening watched the northern lights, which illuminated the sky far into the night.
The next morning we left Port William, a quaint little town which had only been in existence three years, but already boasted of a church and good shops and houses, and started westward on our four days’ train journey to Vancouver. During the first twenty-four hours we passed through the prairies, a vast stretch of yellow plain, with its deep purple shadows, looking terribly desolate, but yet fascinating in its loneliness. Here and there were prairie fires--some still smouldering, others which had left only their charred and blackened marks behind them. We passed many little settlements and farms--one farm was a hundred miles in size--and an immense quantity of wheat is grown in this district. At each station are huge elevators, and the grain is sucked up into them through tubes by means of compressed air at marvellous rapidity. It was harvest-time when we passed, but, being Sunday, none of the men were at work. It seemed quite pathetic to see lines of buggies and cars waiting outside some of the little settlement churches, and as we passed we saw many of the settlers riding and driving to and from service. Some must have come very long distances. At one place, far away from any dwelling, there was a little cemetery--just a dozen white stones and one little cross standing out against the sky--only divided by a rough wooden rail from the rest of the prairie. In winter the country is covered with snow to a depth of from twenty to thirty feet, and the occupants of the farms have to dig their way out, leaving only the front-door exposed. We saw large herds of cattle and horses, but the buffalo is almost extinct. He, as well as the Indian, seems to disappear as civilization advances.
There are still some Indians left, however, and we passed several encampments. Their wigwams looked more picturesque than comfortable, composed of mud and sticks. The few specimens we saw were miserable-looking creatures. The women’s cheeks were painted a bright brick-red, long matted hair hung over their shoulders, and their costumes consisted of the most extraordinary collection of old rags and finery imaginable. They seemed quite harmless, but were much alarmed when I attempted to snap-shot them, and slunk away, evidently warning the others against us. The papooses, fastened like little mummies to their mothers’ backs, had some of them quaint, almost pretty, faces, but looked horribly dirty and uncomfortable, swathed tightly in their filthy rags.
The violent rocking of the train, the dust, the heat of the cars, all combined to give me a bad attack of car-sickness, added to which I knocked my head violently against the door of our car, and was almost stunned. At each station the one thought of everyone on board was to get out for some fresh air and to stretch one’s limbs, and I was almost left behind at a little wayside station, where I had quite forgotten my troubles looking at the glorious sunset lighting up the prairie. Suddenly, to my horror, I saw the train slowly gliding off; had not the guard cleverly caught me up in his arms as the end carriage was leaving the platform, I should have been left to the tender mercies of the station-master and signalman in the middle of the prairie until the next train passed, twenty-four hours later.
After this adventure and fright I became so thoroughly upset that my father decided to break our journey at Banff for a couple of days.
CHAPTER II
IN THE ROCKIES
First sight of the Rockies--Stay at Banff--Indians and salmon--Arrival at Vancouver--The Empress of India--Chinese passengers--The missing day--A court-martial--First sight of Japan.
After leaving the prairies the scenery became more hilly and the country wooded and fertile. The maples had just turned, and their gorgeous colouring of crimson and gold made the landscape appear like a gigantic flower-garden. Ill as I felt, the beauty of the scene so fascinated me that hours passed like minutes. Gradually the distant blue mountains grew nearer and more distinct, and, almost without knowing it, we found ourselves in the heart of the Rocky Mountains, four thousand feet above the sea-level.
At sunset a mist rolled across the valley, and above towered the great Cathedral Rock, thirteen thousand feet high, tinged a lovely rose-colour which gradually faded into soft pink and gray; then all was left in shadow, with the young moon shedding her pale light upon the dark, rugged outline of rock. It was a scene never to be forgotten.