Not content with docking boats, the twin cities build them. They build with equal ease a 10,000-ton freighter, or a great sky-scraping tourist boat to ply between Canada and the American shores. And presently it will be sending its 10,000-tonners direct to Liverpool; they only await the deepening of the Welland Canal near Niagara before starting a regular service on this 4,000-mile voyage.
They are modern cities, indeed, that snatch every chance for wealth and progress, and use even the power that Nature gives in numerous falls to work their dynamos, and through them their many mills and factories. And the marvel of these cities is that they are inland cities—inland ports thousands of miles from the nearest salt water.
These places gave the Prince the welcome of ardent twins. Their greeting was practically one, for though the train made two stops, and there were two sets of functions, there are only a few minutes' train-time between them, and the greetings seemed of a continuous whole.
Port Arthur had the Prince first for a score of minutes, in which crowds about the station showed their welcome in the Canadian way. It was here we first came in touch with the "Mounties," the fine men of the Royal North-West Mounted Police, whose scarlet coats, jaunty stetsons, blue breeches and high tan boots set off the carriage of an excellently set-up body of men. They acted as escort while the Prince drove into the town to a charming collegiate garden, where the Mayor tried to welcome him formally.
Tried is the only word. How could Prince or Mayor be formal when both stood in the heart of a crowd so close together that when the Mayor read his address the document rested on the Prince's chest, while at the Prince's elbows crowded little boys and other distinguished citizens? Formal or not, it was very human and very pleasant.
Returning through the town, something went wrong with the procession. Many of the automobiles forcing their way through the crowd to the train—which stood beside the street—found there was no Prince. We stood about asking what was happening and where it was happening. After ten minutes of this an automobile driver strolled over from a car and asked "what was doing now?"
We consulted the programs and told him that the Prince was launching a ship.
"He is, is he?" said the driver without passion. "Well, I've got members of the shipbuilding company and half the reception committee in my car."
In spite of that, the Prince launched a fine boat, that took the water broadside in the lake manner, before going on to Fort William.
Fort William had an immense crowd upon the green before the station, on the station, and even on the station buildings. Part of the crowd was made up of children, each one of them a representative of the nationalities that came from the Old World to find a new life and a new home in Canada. Each of them was dressed in his or her national costume, making an interesting picture.