Exploration in the Canadian Rockies 193 



away our hope that the pass lay near 

 us to the west. After three hours' hard 

 travel we were not 300 feet above the 

 altitude of the lake, and were turned 

 north in a long valley parallel to the 

 summit range. It now seemed very 

 unlikely that the summit could be 

 reached that day, but the trail soon 

 made a sudden and unexpected ascent 

 of the slope on the west side of the val- 

 ley. After a tedious climb of 1,300 feet, 

 we reached the end of a short valley 

 with a steep glacier at the end partly 

 covered by coaly-black shale. No out- 

 let for a pass was visible. The trail 

 then led across the valley stream and 

 over a ridge, where we had lunch by a 

 small lake. 



The clouds now began to lift a little. 

 Leaving Wood to attend to the horses, 

 I hurried off to cross a ridge half a mile 

 ahead, which I thought was the sum- 

 mit of the Kananaskis Pass. As five 

 hours had been spent in reaching this 

 point, I told Wood that I would be back 

 in an hour, as that would only leave us 

 enough time to reach camp before night- 

 fall. Shortly after leaving Wood I saw 

 a beautiful lake through the larch trees. 

 Some rugged mountains beyond were 

 reflected in its surface, which lay like a 

 vast mirror in the calm air. Here I 

 made sketches and took photographs. 

 Then, after leaving the field-glasses on 

 a scrubby spruce, out of the way of 

 picas and marmots, which were squeak- 

 ing and whistling on every side, walked 

 rapidly to the other end, thinking this 

 was the lake reported by Palliser on 

 the summit of the pass. There was 

 no visible outlet to the lake. Its 

 waters sink underground somewhere, 

 though a dry channel leads out at the 

 north end and the lake shores show 

 that the water level is sometimes sev- 

 eral feet higher. 



The trail seemed to descend into a 

 depression toward the north, but I now 

 suspected that this was not the pass 

 summit. My time was now exhausted, 



and though a cold night in wet wocds 

 was risked I felt the necessity of deter- 

 mining whether this was indeed the 

 highest point. Feeling the need of mak- 

 ing fast time, I left my camera and coat 

 on another bush and started on a trot 

 down the trail. Here, in five minutes, 

 the trail came to a small stream and 

 turned sharply to the west, toward a 

 pass which I roughly estimated to be 

 8,000 feet high and so far away as to 

 mean an hour's hard work. 



Failure to reach the Kananaskis Pass 

 now seemed more certain than ever. 

 In spite of prudence and the warning 

 of my watch, I felt that too much was 

 at stake to give up reaching the summit 

 now. The cool air was exhilarating, 

 but one can not long continue violent 

 physical exercise at 7,000 feet above 

 sea, especially on a rough and ascend- 

 ing trail. I recall splashing through 

 an icy stream, and then a half-mile run 

 through a hummocky meadow, where 

 I caught a swift glimpse of a glacier 

 and its huge morainal stones on my 

 left ; finally the steep and heart-break- 

 ing ascent of a narrow ravine, where a 

 pretty rivulet was hushed under banks 

 of snow. The last Alpine flowers, the 

 rushing streams, and the whistling mar- 

 mots of the upper meadows were left 

 behind, and I approached a barren ridge. 

 Looking over this, I saw a desolate lake 

 surrounded by bare cliffs and the awful 

 solitude of that half-way belt which has 

 neither the beauty of the green valleys 

 nor the grandeur of great snow-fields. 

 I ran along the muddy shores and 

 through snow banks to the other end; 

 then, ascending to the crest of a ridge 

 at 7,805 feet, stood on the top of the 

 Kananaskis Pass at 4 o'clock. There 

 was, besides the flush of exercise, some- 

 thing impressive in the wild solitude of 

 that barren place, of the gloomy sky 

 overhead, and the vast outlook on an 

 unknown wilderness. Hither none, ex- 

 cept perhaps the Indian, had come since 

 Palliser, fifty years before, and even 



