VIII.]

DELAYED BY AN ACCIDENT.

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All the houses in British Columbia are roofed with wooden shingles, and as we left the salmon cannery we passed through a lumber yard where steam saws were cutting shingles and filling the air with the delicious perfume of the fresh cut cedar. Before our train left New Westminster to meet the east-bound Express from Vancouver, I had just time to call on an old acquaintance, the worthy Archdeacon Woods of New Westminster; then getting on board the train, we reached the junction, where while waiting for the Express we were nearly devoured by mosquitoes; at last our train arrived, we took our seats, and as the shades of evening closed in we found ourselves once more in the cañon of the Frazer, en route for the snows of the Selkirks.

Early next morning we were following the course of the swift Thompson upwards, and were much interested in the wonderful development of the bench and terrace formation in the bluffs of silt, but sparsely covered with vegetation, which bounded its course. All seemed going on well till we reached Kamloops, about breakfast-time. Here the guard informed us we must expect some delay, as the westbound train was off the track about a mile from the station. We walked along the line to the scene of the accident, meeting as we went many of the passengers on their way to Kamloops to get breakfast. A heavy thunder-shower had washed down a quantity

of gravel over the rails, and in the darkness of night the west-bound engine had mounted the heap of débris, and then missing the rails pulled half the train off the track, which was now buried to the axles in the loose soil, Slowly the section men raised the locomotive inch by inch with screw-jacks. The tender gave much more trouble, then the cars were hauled on by a spare locomotive, and after nine hours' delay the track was cleared and we were able to pass, but the rails were so twisted and loose that the chances of the wheels of our train slipping off seemed about ten to one. As we entered the Selkirks the weather was dark and threatening. We could see nothing of the mountains, and we reached Glacier House at 10 P.M. in teeming rain.

CHAPTER IX.

"To regions haste,

Whose shades have never felt the encroaching axe

Or soil endured a transfer in the mart

Of dire rapacity."

WORDSWORTH.

Pioneering the Asulkan pass.-Rocky Mountain goats.-The Dawson range. Reconnaissance of the Loop valley.

THE acquaintance we had made with the mountains round "Glacier" had enabled us to form a fair picture of the region we were going to explore. From among all kinds of possibilities which had suggested themselves on our first arrival we could now select those which would be most helpful to our main undertaking. Foremost amongst these were the exploration of the unknown valley (to the southward) which we had seen; and partly in connection with this, and partly for interest on its own account, would be the ascent if possible of Mount Bonney. Having learned by our late experiences that it was useless to start heavily laden with packs until we

had pioneered the route before us, we determined to start as lightly equipped as possible on an excursion up the valley towards the glacier col which we have called the Asulkan pass, and see what it would lead to, and also to inspect the valley opening at the Loop with a view to getting at Mount Bonney.

After breakfast, at 7 A.M., we started in company with the good dog "Jeff" for the first of these excursions, taking nothing with us but the two cameras, small plane table, rope, axes, and sandwiches. Clouds were still hanging about the mountains and the vegetation was dripping after the recent rain. Several times during the day we were as wet as though we had fallen into the river, but dried quickly again under the breeze and sunshine.

On leaving Glacier we bore away to the right, keeping to the path which had been made to give access to the valley. For about a mile, it was in good order; then we found it obstructed by fallen trees, and soon after it vanished. Following the eastern bank of the torrent for some distance we crossed to the other side on a fallen tree. Farther on we recrossed on a bed of consolidated snow which completely bridged the torrent. Then we traversed a fine tract of coarse meadow land, which ought to have had about fifty head of cattle on it. Steep cliffs, down which numerous waterfalls splashed from the snowfields above, re-echoed the music of streams.

Dark

VIII.]

A PERILOUS BRIDGE.

125

pine forest contrasted with the bright green grass levels below and the sunlit glaciers above. It seemed just like some scene in the Engadine, and was in itself a perfect gem of an Alpine valley.

Passing these meadows we returned to the gravel flats near the river, and sought for means to cross to the eastern side once more. A fallen tree lay in the surging waters, part of its trunk under water. With difficulty we made the first step over a deep swirl to this trembling, quivering foot-hold. It was a bridge more fitted for a rope-dancer than for us. Jeff would have none of it. He preferred swimming the torrent, and was consequently rolled over and over, and carried two hundred yards down the stream before he reached the farther shore. Keeping to the level swampy land as far as possible, we were soon stopped by alder scrub which forced us up on to the forest-clad mountain side. We halted for a moment, to admire a lovely waterfall coming down several hundred feet in one leap from the opposite cliffs. Then for an hour we had to struggle through a maze of dense forest and fallen logs, followed by a scramble through the alder scrub lining the cañon, which the glacier torrent had excavated. At last we were clear of vegetation, and crossing the stream for the fourth time, on a snow bridge, we commenced to ascend the high moraine to the glacier. This moraine, like many a one in Switzerland, was