352 



THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE 



Pacific Railway. And what a trip that 

 was ! Only some 85 miles in total dis- 

 tance, it consumed the better part of two 

 days' time ; for the little river steamer, 

 flat-bottomed and with a draft so light 

 that it could pass over sand bars which 

 were covered with only a few inches of 

 water, was at the mercy of the persistent 

 and tortuous current, with the result that 

 it would frequently poke its nose now 

 into one bank and now into the other, in 

 utter disregard of helm and helmsman. 



Even so, to the traveler delighting in 

 Nature's beauty the trip was over all 

 too quickly; for the magnificent double 

 panorama through which the steamer 

 passed — the Rockies on one side and the 

 Selkirks on the other, their lofty summits 

 clad in perpetual snow and their steep 

 escarpments tinted with ochres and pur- 

 ples, and even vermilion — formed a 

 vision of ceaseless charm. 



More than one voyager has declared 

 that this trip up the Columbia far exceeds 

 in beauty anything which the Rhine has 

 to offer. If one can afford the time, by 

 all means let the journey be made by 

 steamer. Next to that, by automobile. 



A splendid road has recently been con- 

 structed by the provincial government 

 through the entire valley, and still an- 

 other automobile highway, of wonderful 

 scenic interest, has been built over the 

 mountains from Banff to Lake Winder- 

 mere. 



THE TRAGIC STORY OF HORSE THIEF CRE^K 



It was in this region that we followed 

 the Trail of the Horse Thief. We were 

 told that some score of years previous, 

 after gathering his four-footed plunder, 

 he had gone up the valley and then turned 

 westward into one of the side canyons, 

 intending to take his horses over the 

 mountains and down into Montana. 



But on reaching the head of the canyon 

 he found his way barred by lofty moun- 

 tains, hung with tremendous glaciers. 

 Caught in this cul-de-sac, he was easily 

 apprehended by the officers of the law, 

 who dealt with him according to his de- 

 serts and restored the horses to their 

 rightful owners. Ever since, the stream 

 which flows through the canyon by which 



he sought to make his escape has been 

 known as Horse Thief Creek. 



One bright day in August a party of 

 four of us arrived at Lake Windermere. 

 For two or three days we gave ourselves 

 up to the enchantments of the lake and 

 its surroundings; and then, with saddle 

 horses and pack outfit, we started up 

 Horse Thief Creek. Entering the can- 

 yon, we found ourselves on a high bench 

 overlooking the stream, whose volume 

 and roar seemed to belie the appellation 

 of "creek." It was really a huge moun- 

 tain torrent, in places 30 or 40 yards wide 

 and tossing its waves in the unbridled 

 energy of its current (see page 350). 



A BATTALION OF "HOODOOS" 



Evidences of its activity in sculpturing 

 the walls of the canyons were everywhere 

 apparent. In one place there was a reg- 

 ular battalion of "hoodoos" — fantastic 

 pinnacles of mixed clay and gravel, the 

 result of a curious process of erosion. In 

 another place the river found its way 

 through a narrow gorge, with vertical 

 walls 300 feet deep. Now and then we 

 caught a glimpse of a waterfall or boil- 

 ing cascade — indeed, there were but few 

 quiet places along the lower stretch of 

 the river. 



As we approached the head of the can- 

 yon, after passing through an extensive 

 forest of mountain hemlock and fir, we 

 suddenly came out upon a scene of rare 

 sublimity. Here was a great amphithea- 

 ter, surrounded by noble peaks belong- 

 ing to the highest crest of the Selkirks, 

 their lower slopes clad with a luxuriant 

 dark-green forest, while from their snow- 

 enshrouded summits descended here and 

 there sparkling glaciers of utmost purity. 



Wonderful above all else was the mag- 

 nificent ice-stream which coursed down 

 from a vast snow-field directly in front 

 of us. Swinging from behind a rocky 

 promontory in the form of a gigantic 

 letter "S" it came down to the very floor 

 of the valley — obviously the main source 

 of the river whose course we had been 

 following — while towering above all was 

 a superb "snow dome" of dazzling white- 

 ness. And there was music all around 

 us. Standing in one spot, we counted no 

 less than eight distinct waterfalls leaping 



