Pioneering in Kootenay. 267 



of the first things for me to do after the Government had settled the 

 canal plans was to erect a steam sawmill at Canal Flat, wherewith 

 to cut the half million or so feet of timbers and lumber (boards) 

 for the lock and the buildings required for the works, for of course 

 there was not a habitation larger than a 10 by 12 log shanty 

 within a radius of a hundred miles. 



Nothing is easier than to buy a sawmill such as I wanted. 



You get prices from the various leading manufacturers, you consult 



a reliable expert in sawmills, who will give you his opinion 



concerning style, make, and size of mill you require. You follow 



his advice or you don't, you wire to the people who are to have 



your custom, and as the last act in the drama you draw your 



cheque, for as you are not known in the world of sawmill-men, the 



terms are strictly cash, though you do manage to get off a good 



discount by paying " spot cash." There you are, happy owner of 



the latest style of steam sawmill, guaranteed to accomplish a 



wonderful variety of jobs, known by as many technical names that 



convey no meaning to an outsider's mind. But there is an " if" in 



the case ; that nice mill machinery is 2000 miles away at Toronto, 



or Brantford, or Chicago and not on Canal Flat, for your 



blandishments to induce the manufacturer to quote you a price for 



the mill put up ready for work have entirely failed. " Never sold a 



mill yet on those terms to British Columbia, don't know enough 



about the country to risk that," says the shrewd business man, and 



the older you get the shrewder that man will grow in your 



estimation. Vainly you urge upon him that Canal Flat is but a 



trifle over 100 miles from the nearest Canadian Pacific Railroad 



station, and that the great Columbia, " one of America's longest 



rivers," affords a connecting link all the way up from the last 



railway station. A glance at a map betrays the fact that these 



hundred miles are unfortunately not at the business end, but at the 



nursery end of the Columbia, so you fail to convince that man. 



The next person you try to wheedle is the mighty arbitrator of 



man's fortune out West, i.e., the head of the freight department of 



the Canadian Pacific Railroad, upon whose word hang, in your case, 



