Among the Canadian Alps

n. The actual summit is marked by a rustic arch. From the steep mountainside comes a little stream which branches a

former in the Province of Alberta, the latter in British Columbia. An hour's run brings us to the headquarters of

e Canyon and the Natural Bridge, Mount Stephen and the famous fossil beds, Emerald Lake, the Amiskwi Valley, Lake O'Hara, Lake

nt Stephen, on account of its accessibility and the magnificent views that reward the mountaineer, is the most climbed peak in the Canadian Rockies. Unlike some of its huge neighbours, such as Cathedral Mountain

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Rev. George Kinney was then at Field, and had gone for a solitary ramble to the fossil beds on Mount Stephen. After several hours spent in gathering trilobites

eatre. There, ridge on ridge, tier on tier, the parallel ledges, cushioned with snow, rose in countless numbers for thousands of feet. In such places as these the spirits of the mountain sit and watch the changing scenes of the hills in the vast arena before them. Sometimes it is a procession of sheep, or goats, or deer, or bear, or the ea

Horse River seemed a little thread of silver that wound, with countless twists and turns, in a level valley below. Field, with its roundhouses and trains and big hotel seeme

t timber line, and was hard enough to walk on its top. Mount Dennis was slowly left behind and sank to a mere hillock beneath. Mounts Field

lace to a raw, cold wind, and my pack being large and heavy got in the way. Nearing the top of this almost vertical cliff my numb fingers slipped and I barely escaped a sheer fall of fully one hundred feet. Surmounting the cliff, it proved but a vanguard of many.

s of an innumerable host-the rugged remnants of a vast ancient plateau stretching north, southeast and west, as far as the eye could see. All this vast array of snow-clad peaks, frowning precipices, glistening glaciers, and yawning gulfs was burnished with the glowing hues of the

avine that seemed to extend all the way to Cathedral Mountain was a smooth pathway of snow, steep as the roof of a house. One question flashed to my mind: would it be frozen too hard? I cautiously tried it. Yes! it was hard, but with care it could be travelled. By launching out freely and letting the whole weight come down on each foot at a time, the heels could be forced a couple of inches into the solid snow. Here, indeed, wa

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e cliffs was reached. Then I started across and down that long, tedious slope of snow and boulders." Fi

capable and sure-headed than George Kinney. Mr. Kinney has since proved his mettle on a much more formidable climb,

h, to Lake O'Hara about eight miles distant beyond the great white peak of Mount Victoria; the Cathedral Crags lie directly ahead to the west, and beneath winds the wildly impressive Canyon of the Kicking Horse. As the road drops rapidly down the valley, one is lost in amazement at the temerity of the engineers who dared to car

ier but less picturesque Cataract trail for the return journey. This makes a somewhat strenuous trip for those who may not be accustomed to climbing, but otherwise is thoroughly worth the extra effort. The way leads around Lake Louise, and over the Victoria Glacier to Abbot Pass, with the tremendous precipices of Lefro

te free from ice. A climb down ledges and talus slopes brings one to the little lake, and from here the first glimpse is caught of the exquisitely beautiful Lake O'Hara in the valley far below. As one gets nearer, the loveliness of this secluded lake grows, and is all the more compelling because of the absolute stillness, no chalet or carriages or boats or human interlopers other than ourselves. The colouring is as perfect, as varied and as

orth side of the railway. Several good roads and trails now lead to the valley from Field, by way of Emerald Lake, Burgess Pas

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ganisation of the district into a national park this first attempt has been extended into a system of roads and trails giving access to every part of the valley. A delightful drive through "aisles of stately firs," and over a good wagon road, brings one to Emerald Lake, where the Railway Company, with its customary thoughtfulness, has provided a comfor

e us across the valley, and we can do nothing but echo the exclamation of the Indians. To borrow again from Sir James Outram, "the torrent issuing from an icy cavern rushes tempestuously down a deep, winding chasm till it gains the verge of the unbroken cliff, leaps forth in sudden wildness for a hundred and fifty feet

e more than a mere impression of the charms of this delightful valley. It would indeed be difficult to find anywhere else a more perfect grouping of the elements of Rocky Mountain scenery, great peaks and g