g difficulties to overcome, which no private corporation
without the most liberal government support could have undertaken. Yet
the builders had to be thankful even for this wild and rugged canyon dug
out by the Frazer River, without which the Cascade range would have been
impassable.

The palace cars of the Canadian Pacific, which contain all the best
features of the Pullman cars, with home improvements, have a special
observatory, with large windows, at the end of the train, whence the
canyon should be viewed; but to see it at its best one must sit on the
rear platform, so as to see at the same time both of the wild and
precipitous canyon walls, between which the river rushes along as if
pursued by demons. At every curve you think the gorge must come to an
end, but it only grows more stupendous, and the river, lashed into foam
and fury, dashes blindly against the rocks which try to arrest its
course. These rocks, ten to thirty feet wide and sometimes twice as
long, form many pretty little stone islands in the middle of the
torrent, and are a characteristic feature of the canyon scenery. Numerous
tunnels, resembling those on the Columbia River, are built through
arches seemingly projecting over the river. The train plunges into them
recklessly, but always comes out fresh and smiling on the other side,
although it seems that if the bottom of the tunnel should by any chance
drop out, the train would be precipitated into the river below.

Once in a while the river takes a short rest, and in these comparatively
calm stretches hundreds of beautiful large red fish can be seen from
the train, in the clear water, struggling up-stream. With their dark
backs and bright red sides they form a sight which is none the less
interesting when you are told that they are "only dog salmon," which
are not relished by whites, though the Indians eat them.

[A night now passes, during which much fine scenery is missed.
But the best is reserved for the next day.]

Scenic wonders now succeed one another with bewildering rapidity
throughout the day. This second day, in fact, represents the climax of
the trip, and the attention is not allowed to flag for a second. However
much such a confession may go against the grain of patriotism, every
candid traveller must admit that there is nothing in the United States
in the way of massive mountain scenery (except, perhaps, in Alaska) to
compare with the glorious panorama which is unfolded on