During this ride he passed under the stain in a sheer wall of rock that
gives the Pass its name. For some geological reason there is, high up
in a straight mass of white towering cliff, a black outcrop that is
like the silhouette of an Indian on a horse. I could not distinguish
the kick in the horse myself, but I was assured it was there, and
Kicking Horse is thus named.

From Field, a breathing space for trains, about which has grown a small
village possessing one good hotel, the Prince rode up the valleys to
some of the beauty spots, such as Emerald Lake, which lies high in the
sky under the cold glaciers of Mount Burgess. It was a wonderful ride
through the spruce and balsam woods of these high valleys.

IV

During Saturday, September 20th, the train was yet in the mountains,
and the scenery continued to be magnificent. From Field the line works
down to the level of the Columbia River, some 1,500 feet lower, through
magnificent stretches of mountain panorama, and through breathless
gorges like the Palliser, before climbing again steeply to the highest
point of the Selkirk Range. Here the train seemed to charge straight
at the towering wall of Mount MacDonald, but only because there is a
miracle of a tunnel--Connaught Tunnel--which coaxes the line down by
easy grades to Rogers Pass, the Illicilliwaet and Albert Canyon.
Through all this stretch the scenery is superb. In the gorges and the
canyon high mountains force the river and railway together, until the
train runs in a semi-darkness between sheer cliffs, with the water
foaming and tearing itself forward in pent-up fury between harsh, rocky
walls. Sometimes these walls encroach until the water channel is
forced between two rocks standing up like doorposts, with not much more
than a doorway space between them. Through these gateways the volume
of water surges with an indescribable sense of power.

At places, as in the valley of the Beavermouth, east of the Connaught
Tunnel, the line climbs hugely upward on the sides of great ranges,
and, on precarious ledges, hangs above a gigantic floor, tree-clad and
fretted with water channels. The train crept over spidery bridges,
spanning waterdrops, and crawled for miles beneath ranges of big timber
snowsheds.

The train stopped at the pleasant little mountain town of Golden, where
the Prince went "ashore," and there was the ceremony of reception.
This was on the program. The next stop was not.

West of t