Friday, continuing.—I was unable to see anything more of Niagara; the others crossed the ferry. We left at twenty minutes to five, and owing to the steamer being late on Lake Ontario we did not reach the Macpherson's till half-past nine. They waited dinner, and we rushed down, at least I did, just twelve minutes after my arrival, and also dressed! A Mr. Pattison, a very agreeable-looking man, who seems an authority on farming, and a Mr. and Mrs. Plumb (son of our Niagara friend), who was once at T—- P—-, but I had entirely forgotten him. Mr. Pattison spoke of the ignorant, idle, good-for-nothing young men sent out here to make a living by their worried relations, sometimes with scarcely a sixpence, in which case they starved but for the charity of himself and others, or if with any money they fell into bad hands and lost everything. So many are sent here that he has made a kind of home for the destitute.
Saturday Morning.—Sir David M—- returned from Ottawa, and we breakfasted together. We nearly missed the train at Toronto (not having Miss M—- to keep us in order; I call her Queen Christina, she is so masterful), but just managed to get ourselves and luggage in, and to see George Bunburg, whom I had made several attempts to see before, and who I hear is enterprising and likely to do well. We reached Owen Sound, and got into the steamer all right about three o'clock. Nice farms nearly all along the line.
Sunday, 14th September.—I slept pretty comfortably. We got into a narrow passage between Lakes Superior and Huron, which was pretty and curious, great numbers of islands and a very narrow path marked out for steamers, which, as we met several, made the risk of collision seem very imminent; they moved very slowly, and have established regular rules of the road, but cannot travel by night, or if a fog comes on. St. Mary le Soult is a pretty place, on one side American, where they have made a lock to avoid the rapids from Lake Huron to Lake Superior. We waited some time to get into the lock, and then found ourselves in the largest lake in the world, five hundred miles long by three hundred and fifty miles wide. Of course, it is like the sea, and while I am writing it is rough enough to make it difficult. No land is in sight. I have had a talk with an Archdeacon who lives near St. John's College, Winnipeg, and is reading "Natural Law;" it is really getting very rough and I must stop.
Tuesday, 16th.—I am writing in the train, and I am thankful to be alive in it. We arrived at Port Arthur at eight o'clock yesterday, 15th, but could hear nothing of our private car, and when the train arrived no car still to be seen. At last, after hunting about and asking, everyone, it turned up, and was very satisfactory. Two men were there to wait on us, and it was well provisioned, and we set off about an hour and-half late, but no one minds such a trifle in these parts. At first the line was fairly straight and smooth, but then the country became wonderfully wild, with rocky hills covered with stumpy trees and undergrowth of brilliant colouring, and wooded lakes without end. In and out we wound, sometimes over most light and primitive bridges, and over high embankments, often running along the margin of the lakes, consisting of loose sand, which frequently rolled down the sides as we went over them. It rained nearly all day, and towards night it poured and was pitch dark. I was just undressed, and congratulating myself that we had been standing still at a station, and so I had been able to do it comfortably, and just got into my sofa bed, with Dick and Hedley opposite me behind their curtains, when we set off, and in a few minutes I felt a violent concussion; so many jerks come in common course that I was not frightened, but we stopped, and then our head man came to the door and said with dignity, "I think it right to announce to you, my lady, that an accident has happened." "What is it?" "The engine went over a culvert bridge all right, but the baggage wagon next to it fell, down off the line, and as we were going slowly they put on the brake and no other carriage followed." "Can we go on to-night?" "Oh no, the roadway is broken up." This was a shock to my nerves, but at any rate we were safe for the night, and after running in and telling John and E—-, we soon all fell asleep. During the night they tacked on an engine, with its great lamp eye at the back of our car (we are the last carriage), and every few minutes this monster gave a tremendous snort, but nothing awoke Hedley, who slumbered peacefully through it all. We got up early, rushed off to the scene of the disaster, as did all the other passengers. It was marvellous that the engine went over that bridge, for really the rails were almost suspended in mid air, but fortunately for us it did, or we should have followed and telescoped, and probably been hurt or killed, the baggage wagon being suspended between the engine and cars, all on one side and down the bank close to the lake, the window broken through which the guard jumped out. We trembled for our luggage, which was all there. The lakes and gaily coloured hills that elsewhere I should admire, make our railroad so dangerous that we have to creep along, sometimes over long spidery wooden bridges, and again on most shaky and uncertain looking embankments, and round sharp corners; every now and then we stop for no apparent reason, and then all rush to the platform of our car to see what is the matter. Once a party of the railway officials got out and ran back; we thought some of our luggage had fallen out, but it seems one of the bridges over which we had just passed was rather shaky, and they went to investigate. If we had gone on last night we meant to be detached at Rat Portage, or Lake of the Woods, but now we go on to Winnipeg if, please God, we can get there.
Wednesday 17th.—Soon after writing yesterday, our steward came in with a solemn face and said: "I have unpleasant news to communicate; a wire has just come to forbid the train crossing the tressel bridge in front of us, so every one must walk, and the luggage be carried over." The railroad is only lately completed, and they have had no experience hitherto of the effect of heavy rains. Some of the bridges are only temporary ones, but no doubt it will be a good and safe line soon. When one considers the country it passes through, and the difficulties of all sorts that they have had to encounter, I think the Canadian Pacific Railway Company and engineers, &c., deserve great credit. "There is a train to meet us on the other aide of the bridge to take us on to Winnipeg;" upon which there was a general outcry. "Part with our comfortable car and provisions Forbid the thought!" "How long will it take to repair the bridge?" "I don't know at all; it may be days or a fortnight." After confabulating with the conductor of the train, we settled to remain this side of the bridge, and be shunted off till it was repaired, and tacked on to a train again for Winnipeg. We went as far as the bridge, and a curious scene was before us; the passengers for Rocky Mountains on the other side had been waiting there for hours, our train being delayed by the accident, and they proved to be some of our long lost friends of the British Association; we greeted each other with effusion; they rushed on our car, and spoke all at once about the glories of the Rockies and the dangers they had escaped, and the fun they had, &c. Some conducted me to the bridge to see what had happened there; considering that there was a great gap in the bridge, and the tressels were lying about anyhow, and a great iron crane hung suspended over the hole by one hook, and the engine lay on its side below, the wire message telling us it would not be safe to go over was rather ironical! All the luggage of the two trains was spread all over the rocks and bushes, and people running here and there, the silent lake so pretty and lovely in contrast. The men with the crane were coming to our assistance at Termillion Bay (where our culvert bridge gave way), and the engineer felt the tressels bending as the engine crossed, and was considering whether to jump off or stay; he decided to remain in the cab of the engine, as the jump was a very high one, and down they went to the bottom, but the men were only cut and bruised, and one broke his leg. This accounted for the delay in our getting assistance, and fortunately for us all, that our small accident happened when it did. As our friends from Winnipeg thankfully exclaimed, "if it had not been for your accident, which was happily so harmless, we should have gone over that bridge, and as our train was faster and heavier there would probably hare been a greater smash;" and we exclaimed, "but for our comparatively harmless accident, we should have gone over that bridge that night and come to great grief." Wasn't it a mercy we escaped? We had Professor Boyd Dawkins, Professor Shaw, Mr. de Hamel, Bishop of Ontario, Mr. Stephen Bourne, &c., on our car for some miles on our way back, and then we were shunted on a siding to wait as patiently as we could. At this Hawk something station we parted with our British Association friends, with many good wishes and waving of handkerchiefs, and were left shunted on the edge of a disagreeable embankment over the lake. After all this excitement we read, had dinner and played whist; then made our own beds, and all the 'boys' slept in the drawing room with me last night, and E—- had the state cabin to herself. It was very cold in the night, and I had to hunt up another rug. We breakfasted at half-past eight, and now the others are taking a walk while I write. I forgot to say Gibson and Roberts went on with our luggage, across the bridge (or rather, by its side), in the train which returned to Winnipeg, and there they will stay till we return from the Rockies. E—- and the boys are just off in the cab of an engine exploring to the broken bridge. It will he fun, perhaps, for them, but I find I have frights enough to endure in our necessary journeys. There is actually a cow at this station, so we had milk for porridge and tea; moreover, there is a piece of ploughed land, a rare sight in this wild stony watery country. The Canadian Pacific Railway have not had experience before this autumn of the effect of heavy rains on their roads, bridges, &c., and things have sometimes come to grief in consequence; some bridges are very good and not temporary.
Later.—Since writing the foregoing, John and E—- and Hedley went off on the cow-catcher of an engine for two or three miles excursion! Dick did not "paddle his own canoe," but the station master did for him on the lake here, and he nearly succeeded in catching a large trout! He and I wandered afterwards on the Rocky Hill, and picked enough blueberries for dinner, and I refreshed my eyes with some lovely-berried red-leaved little shrubs. Since luncheon a telegram came, telling us we might go over the bridge, and so off we went, and on arriving walked all about, some sketching the fallen engine, &c. We set off with Mr. Egan the manager, in his car in front of us, en route for Eat Portage, where I am finishing this journal up to this date, Wednesday, September 17th. It is lovely weather now, and this place is very pretty, and looks quite civilized after our wilderness kind of scenery. Mr. Egan is now going on to Winnipeg, and will post this for me. After our return from the Rockies to Winnipeg, we shall go to Chicago, Washington and Philadelphia, where write.
Letter No. 6.
September 21st, 1884.—I am beginning this in our car en route to the Rockies, in fact with their snow-covered summits well in sight. I posted a letter to you, No. 5, at Winnipeg, and also a newspaper for Mary. From Winnipeg the Canadian Pacific Railway is much more comfortable, for on the boundless flat of the prairies there is no need for many tressel bridges or crumbling embankments, and we went along without fear, excepting that in the neighbourhood of settled parts, we had to look out for cows. Once we stopped very suddenly (their brakes are so good in America), having near gone over one in the dark. They use sometimes a curious kind of sound from the engine, not unlike the moo of a cow in distress, and I saw it effectually drive some off the line. The maids met us at Winnipeg Station, and seemed anxious to go to the Rockies, so we settled they might, and they rushed back for their things, but they returned only in time to see our train off! On the whole we thought it was as well they had not come, for maids don't generally like this kind of life, and we did not need them. We changed cooks at Winnipeg against my wish, but the others were not satisfied with our first one, and we have certainly not changed for the better; he is a coloured man called David, and has been ill, or pretends to be, since yesterday, and another coloured man whom, we call Jonathan, comes in to help him.
Saturday.—We arrived at Moose Jaw after a very rocking journey, so bad that I could not sleep, and sat in a chair part of the night; at last, however, the cold and sleepiness overcame all fear, and I slept in my bed soundly. We saw lots of Indians in red and white blankets, ugly and uninteresting creatures. We made acquaintance with the Roman Catholic Archbishop, who has been travelling in the car next to ours. He is a French Canadian, but talked English well. He is very pleasant. He introduced me to two priests, one of whom had been working among the Indians thirty years. Afterwards he had a talk with John, and remarked upon my youthfulness to be his mother. Of course, I am always being taken for his wife, and they seem very much puzzled about it altogether.
Saturday night, the 20th.—We reached Calgary after a quieter night—quite an important city. A good many wooden houses, two or three churches (I think the congregations must be very small in each), and on Sunday morning all the inhabitants were out in their best, the men loafing and smoking about, and quite smart-looking young ladies showing their finery with great enjoyment, as they do at home. A mounted police officer drove a pair of good horses to meet some of his men, and there are cavalry barracks here for them. The train twice a week from Winnipeg is their only communication with the outer world, so when it arrives everyone, even from long distances, crowds the platform. We always take a walk at these resting places, but it is nervous work to go far, as the train starts without any notice, and they never keep to the time named.