rifically steep. The start was precipitous enough, in all
conscience, but soon came a steep drop of sixty feet, at which point
all the working parts of one's anatomy seemed to leave one, to replace
themselves at the finish only. The pace was so tremendous that it was
difficult to breathe, but it was immensely exciting. The Montreal slide
was just one-third of a mile long, and the time occupied in the descent
on good ice was about twenty seconds, working out at sixty miles an
hour. Every precaution was taken against accidents; there was a
telephone from the far end, and no toboggan was allowed to start until
"track clear" had been signalled. Everything in this world is relative.
We had thought our Ottawa slides very fast, though the greatest speed
we ever attained was about thirty miles an hour, whilst at home we had
been delighted if we could coax fifteen miles an hour out of our rough
machines. The Lansdowne boys were very expert on toboggans, and could
go down the Ottawa slides standing erect, a thing no adult could
possibly manage. They had fitted their machines with gong-bells and red
and green lanterns, and the "Ottawa River Express" would come whizzing
down at night with bells clanging and lights gleaming.

I can claim to be the absolute pioneer of ski on the American
continent, for in January, 1887, I brought my Russian ski to Ottawa,
the very first pair that had ever been seen in the New World. I coasted
down hills on them amidst universal jeers; every one declared that they
were quite unsuited to Canadian conditions. The old-fashioned raquettes
had their advantages, for one could walk over the softest snow in them.
Here, again, I fancy that it was the sense of man triumphant over
Nature that made snow-shoeing so attractive. The Canadian snow-shoe
brings certain unaccustomed muscles into play, and these muscles show
their resentment by aching furiously. The French habitants term this
pain mal de raquettes. In my time snow-shoe tramps at night,
across-country into the woods, were one of the standard winter
amusements of Ottawa, and the girls showed great dexterity in vaulting
fences with their snow-shoes on.

A Canadian winter is bathed in sunshine. In the dry, crisp atmosphere
distant objects are as clear-cut and hard as though they were carved
out of wood; the air is like wine, and with every breath human beings
seem to enter on a new lease of life.

It is not so in the lower world. There is not a bird to be