Five miles from our last night’s camp we leave Bear Creek and follow a small stream to the south. Half a mile further brings us to the summit. At last there is pasture for the poor horses, so they are unloaded and unsaddled and turned out to their food. Our dinner, too, is prepared, although it is not yet noon. The horses require rest and we ourselves are now in no hurry to proceed. There is a grassy knoll in our neighbourhood which might have been placed in the most sylvan of scenes, and we recline at our full ease to enjoy the scene around us. Nothing would have been gained by leaving before the horses had satisfied themselves. I recollected that I had a package of cigars, a gift from our genial Ottawa friend, Mr. N——. They had crossed and re-crossed the Atlantic with me during the present summer, and it was little thought when they came into my possession that their aroma would mingle with the atmosphere of a summit in the Selkirk range. They are produced. We have no wine, so we can only congratulate Major Rogers over the cigars on the discovery of a pass so far practicable and on certain conditions appearing to furnish a solution of the problem of crossing over the Selkirk range instead of making a detour, following the Columbia by the Boat Encampment. We are now 4,600 feet above the sea, surrounded by mountains of all forms, pyramidal, conical and serrated. They are marked in bold relief on the lofty sky line. Between them the everlasting glaciers present the most remarkable variety of appearance. Westward there is an open valley with great peaks which stands out in the dim distance. It is by looking north in the direction whence we came that we have the grandest view. The valley is to all appearance completely enclosed by what seemed to be impenetrable mountains. The defile which we entered is not visible, although the entrance is dimly seen clothed in shadow through the smoky air. Towering high near the crest there is a series of glaciers extending for half a mile or more from north to south.
As we quietly rested, enjoying our cigars in the midst of the remarkable scenery which surrounded us on every side, Major Rogers described to us various details connected with the discovery of the pass, and we felt that his description was as creditable to him as the discovery itself. He stated that he was indebted to the report of Mr. Walter Moberly for a suggestion which led to the examination. As far as I have any knowledge, Mr. Moberly is the first white man who ascended the Ille-celle-waet, the stream which we have now to follow on our journey. It was eighteen years ago. He was engaged in an exploration for the Government of British Columbia. In the year 1865, Mr. Moberly had discovered the Eagle pass, through the Gold Range. He then ascended the Ille-celle-waet, a distance which he estimated at forty miles, to the Forks, where it divided into two streams, one of which, the most northern, he traced some thirty miles farther. This branch terminated in a cul-de-sac among snowy mountains. The other branch he was unable to follow, as the season was advanced, 23rd September, and his Indian guide declined to accompany him. In his report, Mr. Moberly spoke hopefully of a route by that branch[I] and recommended that it “should be examined before a road is finally determined on.” It was upon this hint that Major Rogers acted. Three years back he traced the Ille-celle-waet to the Forks, and then followed the eastern branch. This branch also proceeded from two streams, the most southerly of which he followed. With his nephew he climbed a mountain on its northern bank, and from the summit he looked down on the meadow on which we were then resting. Major Rogers, pointing up to the height directly in front of us, said: “There Al. and I stood; we could trace through the mountains a valley, and the conclusion was established in my mind that it led to the unexplored branch of the Ille-celle-waet. We also traced a depression to the east, which we considered might lead to the upper waters of the Columbia. And so it proved.” Major Rogers could go no further at that date. He was short of provisions, and he returned as he came. But next year he ascended the stream by which we have travelled for the last two days and reached this grassy plot. On this occasion also his nephew accompanied him, and recognized the meadow, the height on which they formerly stood and the peculiar features of the scenery which they beheld. All that remained was to follow the flow of water westerly. They did so as far as the forks of the Ille-celle-waet. They returned by another route in the hope of finding a better pass, but this effort proved unsuccessful.
A party had been detailed to cut out a trail westward, which we are now to follow as far as it is made passable. Beyond that point our party will be the first to pass across the Selkirk Range from its eastern base on the upper Columbia to the second crossing of that river.
The horses are still feeding and we have some time at our command. As we view the landscape we feel as if some memorial should be preserved of our visit here, and we organize a Canadian Alpine Club. The writer, as a grandfather, is appointed interim president, Dr. Grant, secretary, and my son, S. Hall Fleming, treasurer. A meeting was held and we turn to one of the springs rippling down to the Ille-celle-waet and drink success to the organization. Unanimously we carry resolutions of acknowledgment to Major Rogers, the discoverer of the pass, and to his nephew for assisting him. The summit on which we stand is a dry meadow about a mile in extent, with excellent grass. On the approaches we found raspberries, blackberries, blueberries, pigeonberries and gooseberries. They were a treat to us with our hard fare. Fruit, gathered from the bush is always more pleasant to the taste, and fancy eating these delicious fruits in the heart of the Selkirk Range, nearly a vertical mile above the ocean! We are in the best of health, and have the digestion of ostriches. The air is bracing, the day is fine. We have regained our freshness and elasticity, and to show that we are all still young and unaffected by our journey we deem it proper to go through a game of leap-frog, about the only amusement at our command, an act of Olympic worship to the deities in the heart of the Selkirks! Our packers look upon our performance gravely, without a smile. It struck us that the thought passed through their minds that it would be as well for us to reserve our strength for the morrow, and that in view of the path before us our elation was somewhat premature. If such were their thoughts they were certainly justified by the following week’s experience.
CHAPTER XVI.
DOWN THE ILLE-CELLE-WAET.
The Descent of the Selkirk Range—Glaciers—The Last of our Horses—Devil’s Clubs—The Ille-celle-waet—A Rough Journey—A Mountain Storm—Slow Progress—A Roaring Torrent—Skunk Cabbage—Marsh—A Long Ten Miles’ Journey.
Our horses having grazed on the rich pasture are evidently satisfied, some are actually rolling on the grass. So the hour has come to leave the pleasant meadow in the Rogers Pass and pursue our journey. The animals are loaded with their packs, but they are not too eager to make another start. We hear “Steamboat,” “Calgary” and the other names shouted in tones of anything but gentle remonstrance, and occasionally stronger means of persuasion are employed. At last we are fairly under way. Our descent is rapid. We soon come in sight of a conical peak rising about fifteen hundred feet, as near as I can judge, above the surrounding lofty mountains. It stood out majestically among its fellows. We thought that it was a fit spot for the virgin attempt of the Alpine Club. We name it Syndicate Peak. Major Rogers declared it would be the summit of his ambition to plant on its highest point the Union Jack on the day that the first through train passed along the gorge we were now travelling. To the west there is a remarkable glacier whence issues one of the sources of the Ille-celle-waet. We descend slowly enough but with increased rapidity of actual descent, crossing a series of avalanche slides with a growth of tall alder bushes, the roots being interlaced in all directions. A line had been cut through by the surveying party, or our progress would have been exceedingly difficult. The narrow gorge occasionally widens out. The flat in the valley of the Ille-celle-waet in some parts may be a quarter of a mile in width, but it is exceedingly irregular in that respect.
We soon find ourselves five hundred feet below the summit. The adjoining mountains are steep, and tracks of avalanches are frequent. From some little distance to a point where the last pasture for the horses can be had the trail is moderately good. Later in the afternoon we came upon an encampment of two Shuswap Indians, who had left Critchelow’s camp in the morning before we started. They had pack-animals with them, and had selected the spot on account of some grass growing on the line of a snow-slide. They informed us that this was the last pasture to be found on the trail, so we resolved to camp at the same place.