Among the Canadian Alps

by Lawrence J. Burpee

AS we leave Field behind, and slide rapidly down the western slope of the Rockies to the Columbia valley, revelling in the ever-changing panorama of stately peaks, and enjoying it all from a comfortable arm-chair in the observation car, it is interesting to recall the very different journey of Sir Sandford Fleming in 1883. He had been the chief engineer of the Canadian Pacific Railway surveys from 1871 to 1880, and had strongly advocated the Yellowhead Pass route through the mountains in preference to the Kicking Horse Pass. His judgment has since been vindicated by the selection of the former route by both the new Canadian transcontinental roads, the Grand Trunk Pacific and the Canadian Northern.

When the Canadian Pacific Railway was taken over from the Dominion Government by a syndicate, it was decided to build through the Kicking Horse. In 1883 the rails had been laid as far as Calgary, at the eastern entrance to the mountains, actually before there was any certainty that it would be possible to get through by the southern route. The Kicking Horse Pass was believed to be feasible though presenting many serious engineering difficulties, but that only took them through the main range. There were still the Selkirks and the Gold Range to cross, before they could reach Kamloops on the North Thompson River, beyond which the route had been selected and the rails partly laid; but all the information the Company then had was a vague report that a route might be found over the former by Rogers Pass and over the latter by Eagle Pass. Very little was known of either.

The directors of the Company were between the horns of a dilemma. If they went ahead, they might find themselves stranded on the east side of the Selkirks. On the other hand, to abandon the route would mean the loss of millions of dollars already expended in bringing the rails to Calgary. In their difficulty they sent for Fleming, and asked him to go over the ground between Calgary and Kamloops and let them know if the railway could be taken through the three ranges, the Rockies, Selkirks and Gold Range. One can imagine the famous engineer chuckling over the situation. He had recommended the Yellowhead route; his advice had been rejected; and now the advocates of the rival Kicking Horse route were compelled to fall back upon him, to beg him of all men to demonstrate the practicability of the southern route. He accepted the commission, went over the route thoroughly, and was able to report that the railway could be taken through from Calgary to Kamloops. What he saw, however, was very far from shaking his former opinion that the Yellowhead Pass route was preferable in every way to that by the Kicking Horse.

This is merely introductory to a paragraph or two from Sir Sandford Fleming's account of his journey through the mountains in 1883—something to ponder over as we rush down the same wild valley in our luxurious observation car.

Fleming had left the railway at Calgary, and with ponies and pack-horses had slowly forced his way to the summit of the main range, and was now climbing down the valley of the Kicking Horse to the Columbia. We pick him up one morning, somewhere about the western boundary of what is now Yoho Park.

"The mist hangs like a thick curtain, concealing everything not directly near the camp-fire. But we start; the six pack-horses in front with their loads standing out from their backs, giving the creatures the appearance of so many dromedaries. Dave rides ahead with the bell-horse, then the pack-horses follow, and the horsemen bring up the rear to see that none stray behind. Our journey this day is over exceedingly rough ground. We have to cross gorges so narrow that a biscuit might be thrown from the last horse descending to the bell-horse six hundred feet ahead, ascending the opposite side.

"The fires have been running through the wood and are still burning; many of the half-burnt trees have been blown down by last night's gale, obstructing the trail and making advance extremely difficult.... Fortunately there is no wind. The air is still and quiet, otherwise we would run the risk of blackened trunks falling around us, possibly upon the animals or ourselves, even at the best seriously to have impeded our progress, if such a mischance did not make an advance impossible until the wind should moderate.

Mary M. Vaux, W. S. Vaux, and G. Vaux, Jr. MOUNT SIR DONALD AND ILLECILLEWAET GLACIER

Canadian Pacific Railway Company A BIT OF THE ILLECILLEWAET