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FROM Vancouver we took places in the Canadian
Pacific, leaving at noon on a Friday, with the purpose of reaching
Banff about midnight on Saturday, and of spending the Sunday there,
the most attractive spot in the Canadian Rockies. We had not gone
far when we were struck with wonder at the marvels of the railway.
It is not possible to conceive a tract of country less adapted for
such a road. Along the banks of the Fraser River, and far beyond, it
is carried over the wildest and roughest country you can conceive.
It is one continuous series of excavations along the sides of
mountains, of high trestle bridges over ravines and chasms, tunnels
through projecting shoulders of rock, with hardly a chance of any of
nature’s levels. And this really goes on for more than six hundred
miles, until the prairie is reached, east of the Rockies. The
succession of beauty and interest is endless, and the wooded
mountains are magnificent. One does not know the grandeur of the
British Empire until one has been whirled in the railway across
British Columbia. Without disparagement of our Scottish mountainous
regions, they must yield the palm to these magnificent stretches of
highland scenery. You do not ascend any point as high as Sheppard’s
Pass in the Colorado Rockies, of which T have spoken, although you
have to “loop’’ the line at one point and get to the watershed by
the “circumbendibus” process. The greater part of the six hundred
miles is almost without inhabitants, with the exception of those
whom the railway itself has brought. And the railway villages are
generally very rude and primitive. I believe that to tourists and
sportsmen the country is exceedingly attractive, and doubtless it
will fill up in many ways as time rolls on.
Glacier Point is a most interesting spot, about five hundred miles
east of Vancouver. I wished much to spend a day here, but could not
have done so without trespassing on the Sabbath rest. Extraordinary
exaggerations have been circulated about the glacier, which some
would make out to be larger than all the Swiss glaciers put
together. This is out of the question, but all accounts testify that
it is one of extraordinary magnitude and interest. I heard a great
deal of it from fellow-travellers, but need not produce their
accounts at second-hand. A few stages beyond Glacier Point is Banff,
often called Banff Springs and Banff National Park. This is worthy
of an ampler description.
Banff is situated very near the eastern edge of the Rocky Mountains,
and was named after the little county town at the mouth of the
Deveron through the influence of Sir George Steven, one of the
railway magnates, who was a native of the place, or at least of the
county. We cannot grudge this distinction to Banff; but if the
character of the scenery had determined the name, Braemar would have
been more appropriate. Its situation is superb. The Bow River,
passing through the Rockies, affords to the railway a means of
penetrating the mountains at about 4,500 feet above the sea-level.
The domain which has been constituted a National Park for Canada is
upwards of twenty miles in one direction and ten in another; but the
Canadian Pacific Hotel may be taken as the centre of the Park, and
the view from it is superb. The Bow enlivens and beautifies the
wooded strath, from which ranges of mountains rise to great heights
on either side. But, indeed, on all sides there is quite an
amphitheatre of mountains, some clothed with pine almost to their
tops, but most of them conspicuous for their masses of bare rock,
suggesting the origin of the name “Rockies.” When we reached Banff
we were afraid that the haze which had shut out so many fine
mountains from our view was to play us the like trick again. But a
heavy rain had fallen between Saturday and Sunday, and when we came
out of the little church on Sunday—where, by the way, we heard a
most excellent sermon—the whole sky had cleared wonderfully, and the
sun, shining in all his strength, poured his glory on the wonderful
panorama that stretched on all sides around us. And this weather
continued till we left the Rockies, and in a great degree reconciled
us to the loss of the “Selkirks” and of other ranges that ought to
have been seen, some of them in the glitter of their perpetual snow.
Undoubtedly, Banff is a place of unrivalled capabilities, and in
days to come will be looked on with delight by many a Canadian and
other eye. The Sulphur Springs which gush from the rock near it are
said to be a powerful remedy for rheumatism; but it is the lovers of
wild, lovely, picturesque nature that will form its great
constituency. The Dominion Government is liberally disposed towards
it, but even the handsome grant of 25,000 dollars at a time cannot
do much in the way of constructing mountain roads and otherwise
opening up the glories of the scenery. We look forward to a time
when the whole Park will be intersected with beautiful drives, and
the place visited by hundreds of thousands. Already one pretty drive
of ten or twelve miles has been opened to Miniwonga, “the lake of
the evil spirit,” roughly rendered in common parlance “the devil’s
lake.” It is said to be a fine lake for fishing. This year the
medical men of Canada chose Banff for their annual congress. Between
one and two hundred attended, just about the time of our visit. We
met many of them, all very kind and pleasant, and we heard no
difference of opinion as to the unrivalled beauty and interest of
the place.
As we arrived only at midnight on Saturday, there was no time for
the minister to discover me, and for once I had the privilege of
hearing a sermon. The entire service was very admirable—devotional
exercises, sermon, and delivery being nearly all that one could
desire. Mr. Macleod is a young man, but seems admirably fitted for
the place. The stated membership of the congregation is but fifteen;
the rest come from the hotels. I should have thought his situation
rather trying, especially as there was no manse, and he and the
schoolmaster lived together in very plain lodgings. But I was
delighted to find the minister in excellent spirits. As a Canadian
student he had been accustomed to a pioneer ministry, and now he
felt quite at home. His presbytery extends from east to west five
hundred miles, and in the other direction its limit is the North
Pole!
The secret of his happiness is his public spirit, his interest in
his work, and readiness for every feasible undertaking. Besides
Banff, he had other stations to supply. The nearest of these was
fifteen miles off. He usually had evening service there, and the
only way of reaching it was by walking along the railway track.
Another station was seventy miles away. At one time he had to supply
a vacant charge more than a hundred miles distant; but Canadian
energy thinks nothing of a hundred miles.
This young congregation showed a catholicity of spirit not always to
be found. There are some Episcopalians at Banff who as yet have no
church. The Methodist congregation accommodates them in the morning
and the Presbyterian in the evening. Where can the mother country
produce such an instance of the brotherly spirit? |
