It is possible that the majority of my readers have never heard of the Peace River. The British empire is a large one, and Britons can get on very well without knowing much of any river, excepting perhaps the Thames, a knowledge of which, until lately, Londoners easily obtained by the simple process of smelling. Britannia it is well known rules the waves, and it would be ridiculous to expect rulers to bother themselves much about the things which they rule. Perchance, in a score of years or so, when our lively cousins bring forth their little Alaska Boundary question, as they have already brought forth their Oregon, Maine, and San Juan boundary questions, we may pay the Emperor of Morocco, or some equally enlightened potentate, the compliment of asking him to tell us whether the Peace River has always been a portion of the British empire? or whether we knew the meaning of our own language when we framed the treaty of 1825? Until then, the Peace River may rest in the limbo of obscurity; and in any case, no matter who should claim it, its very name must indicate that it was never considered worth fighting about.
THE VALLEY OF THE PEACE RIVER.
Nevertheless the Peace River is a large stream of water, and some time or other may be worth fighting for too. Meantime we will have something to say about it.
Like most of the streams which form the headwaters of the great Mackenzie River system, the Peace River has its sources west of the Chipewyan or Rocky Mountains. Its principal branch springs from a wild region called the Stickeen, an alpine land almost wholly unknown. There at a presumed elevation of 6000 feet above the sea level, amidst a vast variety of mountain peaks, the infant river issues from a lake to begin its long voyage of 2500 miles to the Arctic Sea.
This region is the birthplace of many rivers, the Yukon, the Liard, the Peace River, and countless streams issue from this impenetrable fastness. Situated close to the Pacific shore, at their source, these rivers nevertheless seek far distant oceans. A huge barrier rises between them and the nearest coast. The loftiest range of mountains in North America here finds its culminating point; the coast or cascade range shoots up its volcanic peaks to nigh 18,000 feet above the neighbouring waves. Mounts Cri-Hon and St. Elias cast their crimson greeting far over the gloomy sea, and Ilyamna and Island Corovin catch up the flames to fling them further to Kamchatka’s fire-bound coast.
The Old World and the New clasp hands of fire across the gloomy Northern Sea; and amidst ice and flame Asia and America look upon each other.
Through 300 miles of mountain the Peace River takes its course, countless creeks and rivers seek its waters; 200 miles from its source it cleaves the main Rocky Mountain chain through a chasm whose straight, steep cliffs frown down on the black water through 6000 feet of dizzy verge. Then it curves into the old ocean bed, of which we have already spoken, and for 500 miles it flows in a deep, narrow valley, from 700 to 800 feet below the level of the surrounding plateau. Then it reaches a lower level, the banks become of moderate elevation, the country is densely wooded, the large river winds in serpentine bends through an alluvial valley; the current once so strong becomes sluggish, until at last it pours itself through a delta of low-lying drift into the Slave River, and its long course of 1100 miles is ended.
For 900 miles only two interruptions break the even flow of its waters. A ridge of limestone underlies the whole bed of the river at a point some 250 miles from its mouth, causing a fall of eight feet with a short rapid above it. The other obstacle is the mountain cañon on the outer and lower range of the Rocky Mountains, where a portage of twelve miles is necessary.
In its course through the main chain of the Rocky Mountains no break occurs, the current runs silently under the immense precipice as though it fears to awaken even by a ripple the sleeping giant at whose feet it creeps.