THE FRASER AND THOMPSON 153 



The eye fastens on colours rich and varied ; brilliant 

 green far down the valley, red loam streaking the 

 banks, maple trees touched with premature autumn 

 tints, shimmering water, and all overarched by a 

 deep blue cloudless sky. 



The Fraser joins the Thompson at the caiion, 

 which throws wider apart its rocky banks as if to 

 welcome the greatest of all the Columbian watersheds. 

 The wear and tear of long travel stains it, and the 

 Thompson's emerald tint is soon lost in its muddy, 

 surging currents. For miles the train and Fraser 

 run pari passu through Yale, Agassiz, and Harrison 

 Mills to Westminster, where the river lags, and 

 slowly as a tired giant quietly sinks into the open 

 arms of the Pacific. 



The great transcontinental line terminates at 

 Vancouver, which in itself only marks a new starting- 

 point for the shipping service to China, Japan, 

 Honolulu, Fiji, and many other ports in the far-off 

 Orient. 



The prairies, arid though they appear, are not 

 wanting in the adornment of floral life. Even as 

 the train rushes by, patches of buffalo plants and 

 grass may be seen. These are less abundant than 

 when the buffalo trod the plains in great herds. 

 The stamping of their feet hardened the ground, 

 which together with manuring formed a more favour- 

 able environment. Near the foothills the dwarf 

 creeping plants and the wormwood are seen. 



