I had another excellent night’s sleep and was up early. At six Mr. Hamlin and myself started. The morning air was cold. We arrived at Cache Creek about half-past seven, and found Dr. Grant and my son under canvas. The hotel was so unpromising that they preferred their tent to the cheerless entertainment it suggested. Albert and Mr. Hunter soon join us, and the four took the stage to Spence’s bridge. Mr. Hamlin was good enough to drive me there with his own horses. We took some refreshment at Ashcroft, seven miles from Cache Creek. The country residence of the Lieutenant-Governor of British Columbia is at Ashcroft, and I felt it my duty to pay him my respects. Mr. Cornwall, himself, was absent; the ladies, however, received us with much kindness, and our conversation turned to a previous occasion when I passed an evening in their society under the same roof, some years back, of which I retained the most pleasing recollection. In fact, I may remark that, as they say in Paris, this was my visite de digestion after the pleasant dinner which I then had with the family.
As we proceed the sun shines upon us with unusual heat for the time of year. Small fields of irrigated land are seen here and there and present a promising appearance. The ground generally is dry, for there is little rainfall in this district. From the indications I fear no crop can thrive without irrigation, and it appears to me it is the main consideration for the residents to entertain.
We descend by the westerly bank of the River Thompson, and obtain a good view of the railway work on the opposite bank. We reached Spence’s Bridge about three o’clock, where Mr. H. F. Macleod greeted me with a warm welcome and invited the whole party to his house. Mr. Hamlin returned to his own place. Dr. Grant, my son and myself availed ourselves of Mr. Macleod’s hospitality. Mr. Macleod is another old friend and fellow worker on the Intercolonial Railway. Spence’s Bridge has a canvas town of about one thousand Chinamen, engaged on the railway works. I presume the Chinese population will disappear as the railway is completed. The place contains a good hotel, with a garden of some size, producing apples, grapes and excellent vegetables; in itself showing what can be accomplished with irrigation, effort and skill. No fact is more patent than that irrigation is indispensable in this district.
Mr. Macleod kindly drove us over the works. We follow the deep gorge through which the Thompson forces its way. Mr. Macleod’s house is situated at Drynoch, so called from his relationship to the Macleods of Skye. It is scarcely necessary to say that at Drynoch we received a cordial and graceful Highland welcome. We were particularly struck with the appearance of the Chinaman waiting at table. His loose dress was of spotless white, and with his thick soft-soled shoes he moved so quietly as to be scarcely audible. He had always a smile on his face, and his mistress gave him the best of characters for intelligence, industry and good manners. We passed a delightful evening in this oasis in the mountains.
In the morning Mr. Macleod accompanied us to Lytton, where the Thompson falls into the Fraser. Lytton has not greatly improved since I saw it last year. It is still a wretchedly dilapidated place. The dingy wooden buildings were marked by a striking absence of paint, and evidently the summary course applied at Truro, in Nova Scotia, on the occasion of the Prince of Wales’ visit, could with benefit be introduced here. At Lytton I said good-bye to Mr. Macleod, heartily thanking him for his hospitality. Mr. Hannington, another of my old assistants, from Ottawa, now received me.
Mr. Hannington drove me to his place, three miles beyond Lytton, and we proceeded eight miles further to the site of the railway bridge to cross the River Fraser. The bridge, a massive structure of stone and iron, is in progress. Here we met Mr. George Keefer, the Engineer in charge of this section, another of my old staff. Mr. Keefer took me to his quarters, seventeen miles below Lytton, being thirty-three miles from Drynoch. Mr. Keefer’s house is on the railway line on the western bank of the Fraser. So we crossed the river in a canoe and floated down the boiling, seething current to a convenient landing place. Ascending the bank about two hundred feet nearly vertically, we reached Mr. Keefer’s present house, where we remained for the night. Mrs. Keefer and her children were absent on a visit at Victoria, but he himself left no effort untried to entertain us. I was delighted again to see my old friend so pleasantly circumstanced, and we were all indebted to him for his hospitality.
I was awakened in the morning by a Chinaman appearing with a bath, a luxury more appreciated after my late experience, and one among the first benefits of civilization, which we hasten to enjoy. We are forty miles from Yale, in that huge cleft in the Cascade Range through which the Fraser impetuously continues its course. The rails are laid from Yale to a point two miles above where we now are. We can accordingly reach Yale by a locomotive in little more than an hour, but it is my desire to pass leisurely over the line, in order somewhat to examine it. It has therefore been arranged that we proceed on our journey by hand-car. A dense fog fills up the valley but the sun soon comes out and the fog is dispelled. As we approached Mr. Keefer’s quarters last night we had to pass over the long ascent of Jackass mountain, a name familiar to British Columbians from the day of the discovery of gold in Cariboo. The road leading to the gold mines passes over it. The frame of a house on a small terrace some nine hundred feet above the river, was pointed out as the resting place for the night of Lord and Lady Dufferin when in British Columbia. It affords a magnificent view of Fraser river and the great mountains which flank the valley on both sides.
The hand-car came, bringing with it my old friend Mr. H. J. Cambie. He had left his home this morning at Spuzzem, twenty miles distant. We again start. To Dr. Grant the hand-car was almost a revelation; it was certainly a new mode of travelling which he was about to experience. Mr. Keefer follows on a railway velocipede. This machine has its two main wheels on one rail, with a third wheel to steady it, gauged to the opposite rail. It is kept in motion by a crank, worked by the rider’s feet. I am sorry to say that on this expedition Mr. Keefer’s velocipede was crushed by a gravel train backing, owing to a mistake of orders, and Mr. Keefer had only just time enough to extricate himself to avoid a similar fate.
Our course followed the railway down the western bank of the great canyon of the Fraser. The Cariboo waggon road runs on the opposite bank as far as the Alexandria Bridge. We had an opportunity of observing the lofty cliffs and the precipitous ledges it passes over, and from the really slight character and dangerous appearance of the staging upon which man and horse have so long risked their lives, I could not but think that the railway would not be open for traffic an hour too soon. I presume that when that result comes to pass the waggon road will fall into disuse. The construction of the railway has been exceedingly difficult and costly within the twenty-eight mile section in charge of Mr. Cambie. The work is extremely heavy, including thirteen tunnels. We reach Spuzzem in the afternoon, having travelled leisurely. We proposed making another start, but Mr. Cambie would not hear of our passing his house, and despatched the hand-car to Yale for our letters, the place where they had been ordered to be addressed. In a couple of hours I had received the bag containing my month’s correspondence, including letters from home of the latest date.
I was under no apprehension of any bad news, for the telegram which I had sent from Savona’s Ferry had been answered to the effect that all was well; but with what delight, when we have been for weeks cut off from those dear to us, do we read in their own words that everything is precisely as it should be.