Toronto and Vancouver. It is land-yachting, it 

 is doubling Cape Horn in an old wind-jammer, 

 it is pioneering above all it is pioneering. 



These tremendous trains run daily from 

 coast to coast with the same regularity, almost 

 with the same punctuality, as do the expresses 

 from London to Edinburgh, yet every one of 

 them is in a sense a pioneer. Since we left 

 Toronto we have passed through country which 

 is exactly the same wild savage tract of stone- 

 pines and gaunt rocks as it was when the first 

 blow of a pick-axe announced the birth of the 

 C.P.R. 



Wonderful Shooting and Fishing 



None but the wild animals live there, bear, 

 black fox, elk, moose, and deer. The lakes and 

 streams are full of bass and trout and pickerel 

 a sort of big perch and to you looking out of 

 the window of a C.P.R. train the whole land is 

 a sportsman's paradise. It is a fair-sized piece 

 of the world which has not changed since the 

 Creation. 



Between Toronto and Calgary you pass 

 every sort of scenery the world can show you. 

 You find Norway, Scotland, the Roman Cam- 

 pagna (the capital of which is that little city 

 with the great name, Medicine Hat), and, along 

 the shore of Lake Superior, the Mediterranean 

 by the French Riviera, and bits of the Adriatic 

 by Corfu. For miles and miles on each side of 

 Winnipeg you run through limitless wheat-fields 

 stretching out on either side to the horizon, 

 North Norfolk magnified a thousand times, a 

 Sahara of grain. 



Last night I awoke in the small hours. It 

 was not because the train had stopped, but 

 because a silence, an utter absence of any sort 

 of sound, enveloped us. It is a commonplace to 

 say "a silence which can be felt," but it was, in 

 truth, exactly that, the wide world the little 

 station of Moose Jaw, I think it was lay buried 

 beyond rescue under a crushing silence. The 

 vast size of the land around us, the sense of 

 absolute loneliness, bore down on us tiny atoms 

 like the Atlantic on the pebbles of its sea-floor. 



Courtesy that Begins with Kindness 



The courtesy of the C.P.R. officials, which I 

 have known and enjoyed for nearly thirty years, 

 is the proud and justifiable boast of the company, 

 but it is that sort of courtesy which begins with 

 kindness. All along the line we have had a 

 special telegraph news-bulletin sent in twice a 

 day, and the various divisional superintendents 

 have left nothing undone to make our journey as 

 pleasant as possible. For example, at Kenora 

 I was taken for a short motor drive, abandoning 

 the train, which stopped to pick us up a few 

 miles farther on. 



Again, every official on the train is eager to 

 give you interesting information about the 

 country, the cities, and the peoples, red and 

 white. One thing which has particularly struck 

 me on this journey is the deep affection in which 

 the Prince of Wales and the Duke of Connaught 

 are everywhere held. From all sorts of people 

 I have heard just those little familiar sentences 

 about them which mean so much and which 

 among English -bred folk are used only about 

 people they really like. 



Years ago, when Canada was simply a huge, 

 vague territory sprawling between the oceans, 

 with nothing to bind it together or give this 

 mighty Dominion real cohesion, people who were 

 regarded as ripe for the asylum used to say that 

 one day a great steel road would run across it 

 from end to end and give it what it needed most, 

 an artery. One of these dreamers was Bulwer 

 Lytton, who made the prophecy more than 

 sixty years ago. He and the rest were laughed 

 at. 



A Great Engineering Feat 



Then the C.P.R. came along and, disregard- 

 ing mountains and rivers and hundred-mile-long 

 chains of lakes, every conceivable engineering 

 obstacle, gave Canada and British Columbia 

 their mighty steel road, over three thousand 

 miles long, on which the whole economic life of 

 the Dominion depends. And the whole of the 

 extraordinary efficiency which permeates this 

 colossal organization has been due, each in their 

 turn, to Mount Stephen, Van Home, Shaugh- 

 nessy, and now E. W. Beatty, presidents of the 

 C.P.R. 



The C.P.R. is one of the greatest feats of 

 engineering in the world, a thing before which 

 a man should stand bare-headed. And the 

 Montmorency and her sisters flit over it, back 

 and forth, with the unconcern of a tramway-car. 



I shall see many wonderful things on my long 

 voyage round the world, but I do not think 

 anything is likely to impress me more than this 

 five-day run across a continent in the Mont- 

 morency. 



The Movement of Canadian Wheat 



The Canadian wheat crop has of recent years come to 

 play a much larger part in the world's wheat trade, to 

 what extent may be gauged from the fact that whilst at 

 the beginning of the century the average amount of this 

 crop annually available for export was about 24,000,000 

 bushels, it now averages about 225,000,000 bushels. The 

 tremendous increase is, of course, due to the phenomenal 

 development of the Prairie Provinces, which account for 

 by far the larger part of production as well as the bulk 

 available for export. The movement of the wheat, which 

 pours from the prairies over the railways to various outlets 

 as soon as the crop is threshed and continues in lesser 

 volume practically until the next crop is harvested, 

 constitutes a real problem in transportation, and it is 

 interesting from many points of view. 



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