The guide Peechee seems to have possessed much influence among his fellows, and whenever, as was often the case, the Indians gathered around their camp-fires and gossiped about their adventures, Peechee was listened to with the closest attention on the part of all. Nothing more delights the Indians than to indulge their passion for idle talk when assembled together, especially when under the soothing and peaceful influence of tobacco,—a fact that seems strange indeed to those who see them only among strangers, where they are wont to be remarkably silent.
A circumstance of Indian history connected with the east end of the lake is mentioned by Sir George Simpson, and admirably illustrates the nature of savage warfare. A Cree and his wife, a short time previously, had been tracked and pursued by five Indians of a hostile tribe into the mountains to a point near the lake. At length they were espied and attacked by their pursuers. Terrified by the fear of almost certain death, the Cree advised his wife to submit without defending herself. She, however, was possessed of a more courageous spirit, and replied that as they were young and had but one life to lose they had better put forth every effort in self-defence. Accordingly she raised her rifle and brought down the foremost warrior with a well aimed shot. Her husband was now impelled by desperation and shame to join the contest, and mortally wounded two of the advancing foe with arrows. There were now but two on each side. The fourth warrior had, however, by this time reached the Cree’s wife and with upraised tomahawk was on the point of cleaving her head, when his foot caught in some inequality of the ground and he fell prostrate. With lightning stroke the undaunted woman buried her dagger in his side. Dismayed by this unexpected slaughter of his companions, the fifth Indian took to flight after wounding the Cree in his arm.
Rundle Mountain, which has been already mentioned and which forms one of the most striking mountains in the vicinity of Banff, is named after a Wesleyan missionary who for many years carried on his pious labors among the Indians in the vicinity of Edmonton. Mr. Rundle once visited this region and remained camped for a considerable time near the base of Cascade Mountain, probably shortly after Sir George Simpson explored this region. The work of Mr. Rundle among the Indians appears to have been highly successful, if one may judge by the present condition of the Stoneys, who are honest, truthful, and but little given to the vices of civilization. Even to this day the visitor may see them at Banff dressed in partly civilized, partly savage attire, or on rare occasions decked out in all the feathers and beaded belts and moccasins that go to make up the sum total of savage splendor.
Our attention comes at last to Dr. Hector, who was connected with the Palliser expedition. It is exceedingly unfortunate that the blue-book in which the vast amount of useful information and interesting adventure connected with this expedition is so clearly set forth should be now almost out of print. There are no available copies in the United States or Canada and but very few otherwise accessible. Dr. Hector followed up the Bow River and passed the region now occupied by Banff in the year 1858. He was accompanied by the persevering and ever popular botanist, Bourgeau. Under the magic spell of close observation and clear description, the most commonplace affairs assume an unusual interest in all of Dr. Hector’s reports. It is very evident that game was much more abundant in those early days than at present. For instance, Dr. Hector’s men shot two mountain sheep near the falls of the Bow River, which are but a few minutes’ walk from the hotel. Likewise when making a partial ascent of the Cascade Mountain, Dr. Hector came on a large herd of these noble animals, concerning which so many fabulous tales of their daring leaps down awful precipices have been told. He also mentions an interesting fact about the death of a mountain goat. An Indian had shot a goat when far up on the slope of Cascade Mountain, but the animal, though badly wounded, managed to work its way around to some inaccessible cliffs near the cascade. Here the poor animal lingered for seven days with no less than five bullets in its body, till at length death came and it fell headlong down the precipice.
Bow River and Cascade Mountain.
The climate of Banff during the months of July and August is almost perfection. The high altitude of 4500 feet above the sea-level renders the nights invariably cool and pleasant, while the mid-day heat rarely reaches 80° in the shade. There is but little rain during this period and in fact there are but two drawbacks,—mosquitoes and forest-fire smoke. The mosquitoes, however, are only troublesome in the deep woods or by the swampy tracts near the river. The smoke from forest fires frequently becomes so thick as to obscure the mountains and veil them in a yellow pall through which the sun shines with a weird light.
An effect of the high northern latitude of this part of the Rocky Mountains is to make the summer days very long. In June and early July the sun does not set till nine o’clock, and the twilight is so bright that fine print can be read out doors till eleven o’clock, and in fact there is more or less light at midnight.
In June and September one never knows what to expect in the way of weather. I shall give two examples which will set forth the possibilities of these months, though one must not imagine that they illustrate the ordinary course of events. In the summer of 1895, after having suffered from a long period of intensely hot weather in the east, I arrived at Banff on the 14th of June. It was snowing and the station platform was covered to a depth of six inches. The next day, however, I ascended Tunnel Mountain and found a most extraordinary combination of summer and winter effects. The snow still remained ten or twelve inches deep on the mountain sides, though it had already nearly disappeared in the valley. Under this wintry mantle were many varieties of beautiful flowers in full bloom, and, most conspicuous of all, wild roses in profusion, apparently uninjured by this unusually late snow-storm. I made a sad discovery near the top of the mountain. Seeing a little bird fly up from the ground apparently out from the snow, I examined more closely and observed a narrow snow-tunnel leading down to the ground. Removing the snow I found a nest containing four or five young birds all dead, their feeble spark of life chilled away by the damp snow, while the mother bird had been, even when I arrived, vainly trying to nurse them back to life.
This storm was said to be very unusual for the time of year. The poplar trees in full summer foliage suffered severely and were bent down to the ground in great arches, from which position they did not fully recover all summer, while the leaves were blighted by the frost. As a general rule, however, mountain trees and herbs possess an unusual vitality, and endure snow and frost or prolonged dry weather in a remarkable manner. The various flowers which were buried for a week by this late storm appeared bright and vigorous after a few warm days had removed the snow.