APPENDIX TO CHAPTER V 151 



America he would never kill a lion. Donald MacAlister, who 

 was the " Lion-King," bestowed on him the degree of L.L.D. 

 4 Leo Leonum Destructor.' Sir George l Robertson of Chitral 

 was also one of our fellow-passengers, and he and Selous capped 

 one another's stories and made us much joy. It was not a 

 * sick transit ' and the ' gloria mundi ' was unabated. We went 

 straight into Montreal by the Parisian and took up our quarters 

 with Mr. Russell Baldwin, who was a most exemplary host. 

 The section pursued its usual course, and we had a good attendance 

 of U.S. chemists, among others a number of my old friends. 

 Remsen was there, also Clarke from Washington, and a lot of 

 others whom you never heard of. The usual round of garden 

 parties and receptions was given, and Lord and Lady Aberdeen 

 graced the show. At a final dinner given to us by the munici- 

 pality, he being in the chair, he shouted out ' Is the Bishop of 

 Ontario present ? ' No reply. ' Is the Reverend Augustus 

 Thomson present ? ' No reply. ' Then thank God for these and 

 all His mercies.' 2 



. . . From Toronto we went straight west on the Canadian 

 Pacific Ry. We took the lake route and spent ten days on 

 Huron and Superior. Then by train to Winnipeg, considerably 

 grown but not so much altered as I expected after 13 years, and 

 on to Glacier, crossing the Rockies and the Selkirks. One fine 

 morning, at 6 o'clock, on approaching the Rockies, Elska and I 

 were on the end platform of our carriage, which was the end of 

 the train. We were jogging along at the customary 20 miles 

 an hour. Suddenly a band of Indians dressed in coloured blan- 

 kets and with eagles' feathers on their heads galloped out from 

 behind a small wood and drew up, reining in their horses on their 

 haunches, quite close to us. We waved to them and they to us, 

 and we steamed slowly ahead. It was a romantic sight and 



1 This must be a mistake for Brig. -Gen. William Robert Robertson. 



2 This is a sort of personal parody of the query by C. V. L. in Charles 

 Lamb's " Grace before meat." 



