52 CRUISINGS IN THE CASCADES. 



heave a sigh of relief when once its beetling cliffs 

 and seething abysses are far astern. Gulls hover 

 about this weird place, and eagles soar above it at all 

 hours, as if admiring its pristine beauties, yet in 

 superstitious awe of the dark depths. Mount Erie, 

 two miles away, rising to a height of 1, 300 feet, casting 

 its deep shadows across the pass and surrounding 

 waters, completes a picture of rare beauty and 

 grandeur. 



We reached Victoria, that quaint, old, aristocratic, 

 ultra-English town, just as the sun was sinking 

 beneath the weaves, that rolled restlessly on the surface 

 of Juan de Fuca Strait. We were surprised to see 

 so substantial and well-built a town as this, and 

 one possessing so much of the air of age and inde- 

 pendence, so far north and west. One might readily 

 imagine, from the exterior appearance of the city 

 and its surroundings, that he were in the province 

 of Quebec instead of that of British Columbia. My 

 wife felt that she must not remain longer away from 

 home at present, and we were to part here; there- 

 fore, in the early morning she embarked for home, 

 while I transferred my effects and self to the steamer 

 Princess Louise, bound for Burrard Inlet. 



