class="sc">Approaching the Pass 149

CAMPING IN
THE CANADIAN ROCKIES.

CHAPTER I.

Banff—Its Location—The Village—Tourists—Hotels—Topography of the Region—Rundle and Cascade Mountains—The Devil’s Lake—Sir George Simpson’s Journey to this Region—Peechee the Indian Guide—An Indian Legend—The Missionary Rundle—Dr. Hector—The Climate of Banff—A Summer Snow-Storm—The Mountains in Winter.

The principal resort of tourists and sportsmen in the Rocky Mountains of Canada is Banff. The location of the town or village of Banff might be briefly described as being just within the eastern-most range of the Rocky Mountains, about one hundred and fifty miles north of the International boundary, or where the Canadian Pacific Railway begins to pierce the complex system of mountains which continue from this point westward to the Pacific coast.

Banff is likewise the central or focal point of the Canadian National Park. There is so much of scenic interest and natural beauty in the surrounding mountains and valleys, that an area of some two hundred and sixty square miles has been reserved in this region by the government and laid out with fine roads and bridle-paths to points of special interest. Order is enforced by a body of men known as the Northwest Mounted Police, a detachment of which is stationed at Banff. This organization has been wonderfully effective for many years past in preserving the authority of the laws throughout the vast extent of northwestern Canada by means of a number of men that seems altogether insufficient for that purpose.

The small and scattered village of Banff occupies a flat plain near the Bow River. This large stream, the south branch of the Saskatchewan, one of the greatest rivers of North America, is at this point not only deep and swift but fully one hundred yards in width. A fine iron bridge spans the river and leads to the various hotels all of which are south of the village. The permanent population numbers some half thousand, while the various stores, dwellings, and churches have a general air of neatness and by their new appearance suggest the fact that the history of Banff extends back only one decade.

During the summer season, the permanent population of Banff is sometimes nearly doubled by a great invasion of tourists and travellers from far distant regions. Overland tourists from India, China, Ceylon, and England, the various countries of Europe and the Dominion of Canada, but chiefly from the United States, form the greater part of this cosmopolitan assemblage, in which, however, almost every part of the globe is occasionally represented. Some are bent on sport with rod or gun; others on mountaineering or camping expeditions, but the great majority are en route to distant countries and make Banff a stopping-place for a short period.

Arrived at Banff, the traveller is confronted by a line of hack drivers and hotel employes shouting in loud voices the names and praises of their various hotels. Such sights and sounds are a blessed relief to the tourist, who for several days has witnessed nothing but the boundless plains and scanty population of northwestern Canada. The chorus of rival voices seems almost a welcome back to civilization, and reminds one in a mild degree of some railroad station in a great metropolis. On the contrary, the new arrival finds, as he is whirled rapidly toward his hotel in the coach, that he is in a mere country village surrounded on all sides by high mountains, with here and there patches of perpetual snow near their lofty summits.

Though the surrounding region, the adjacent mountains, and valleys represent nature in a wild and almost primitive state, one may remain at Banff attended by all the comforts of civilization. The several hotels occupy more or less scattered points in the valley south from the village. The one built and managed by the railroad stands apart from the village on an eminence overlooking the Bow River. It is a magnificent structure capable of accommodating a large number of guests. From the verandas and porches one may obtain a fine panoramic view of the surrounding mountains, and on the side towards the river the view combines water, forest, and mountain scenery in a most pleasing manner. The Bow River, some three hundred feet below, comes in from the left and dashes in a snowy cascade through a rocky gorge, then, sweeping away towards the east, is joined by the Spray River, a mad mountain torrent deep and swift, but clear as crystal, and with cold water of that deep blue color indicating its mountain origin. The wonderful rapidity with which these mountain streams flow is a source of astonishment and wonder to those familiar only with the sluggish rivers of lowland regions. Standing on the little iron bridge which carries the road across the stream and looking down on the water, I have often imagined I was at the stern of an ocean greyhound, so rapidly does each ripple or inequality sweep under and away from the eye. Though the water is less than a yard in depth, the current moves under the bridge at the rate of from nine to ten miles an hour.

The best point from which to get a good general idea of the topography of Banff and its surroundings is from the summit of a little hill known as Tunnel Mountain. It is centrally located in the wide valley of the Bow, above which it rises exactly 1000 feet, an altitude great enough to make it appear a high mountain were it not dwarfed by its mighty neighbors. The view from the summit is not of exceeding grandeur, but is well worth the labor of the climb, especially as a good path, with occasional seats for the weary, makes the walk an easy one. The top of the mountain is still far below the tree line, though the earth is too thin to nourish a rich forest. The soil was all carried away in the Ice Age, for there are abundant proofs that