Peeps at Many Lands: Canada

There were twenty policemen backing Sergeant McDonald; with the chief there were at least 500 warriors, so what followed was really an affair of prestige more than of force. When Sitting Bull arrived at the little picket-gate of the post, he threw his squat figure from his pony, and in his usual generous, impetuous manner, rushed forward and thrust the muzzle of his gun into Sergeant McDonald's stomach, as though he would blow the whole British nation into smithereens with one pull of his finger. McDonald was of the sort that takes things coolly; he was typical of the force. He quietly pushed the gun to one side, and told the five chiefs to step inside, as he was receiving that afternoon. When they passed through the little gate he invited them to stack their arms in the yard and come inside the shack and pow-wow. They demurred, but the sergeant was firm; finally the arms were stacked and the chiefs went inside to discuss matters with the police.

Outside the little stockade it was play-day in Bedlam. The young bucks rode, and whooped, and fired their guns; they disturbed the harmony of the afternoon tea, as the sergeant explained to Sitting Bull. "Send your men away," he told him.

The Sioux chief demurred again.

"Send them away," repeated the sergeant, "if you have any authority over them."

At a sign Sitting Bull and the chiefs made towards the door, but there were interruptions – red-coated objections. And the rifles of the chiefs were stacked in the yard outside. Sitting Bull, like Piapot, had brains; likewise was he a good general. He nodded approvingly at this coup d'état, and told one of the chiefs to go out and send the boys away.

When the young bucks had withdrawn to their camp, the sergeant persuaded Sitting Bull and the others to remain a little longer, chiefly by force of the red-coated arguments he brought to bear upon them.

"Tarry here, brothers," he said, "until I send Constable Collins and two others of my men to arrest the murderers of the dead Indians. The Saultaux are subjects of the Queen, and we cannot allow them to be killed for the fun of the thing. Also the boy told us who the murderers are."

Then Constable Collins – big Jack Collins, wild Irishman, and all the rest of it – went over to the Sioux camp, accompanied by two fellow-policemen, and arrested three of the slayers of the dead Indians. It was like going through the Inquisition for the fun of the thing. The Indians jostled and shoved them, reviled them, and fired their pistols and guns about their ears, whirled their knives and tomahawks dangerously close, and indulged in every other species of torment their vengeful minds could devise. But big Jack and his comrades hung on to their prisoners, and steadily worked their way along to the post.

Not a sign of annoyance had escaped either of the constables up to the time a big Indian stepped up directly in front of Jack Collins and spat in his face. Whirra, whirroo! A big mutton-leg fist shot through the prairie air, and the Sioux brave, with broken nose, lay like a crushed moccasin at Jack's feet.

"Take that, you black baste!" he hissed, between his clenched teeth. "An' ye've made me disobey orders, ye foul fiend!"

Then he marched his prisoners into the post, and reported himself for misconduct for striking an Indian. The three prisoners were sent to Regina, and tried for murder. I do not know whether Jack was punished for his handiwork or not, though it is quite likely that he was strongly censured at least.

In 1896 a party of several hundred Crees, who had gone on a raid into Montana, were returned by the United States authorities, under guard of a cavalry regiment, and the Mounted Police were notified to meet them and take charge at the boundary. What was the amazement of the American officers to be met by a sergeant and two constables; but such was the influence of their uniform that the Indians meekly marched ahead of them back to their reserve. In 1907 a single constable followed an escaped convict and noted desperado for over 2,000 miles of the pathless northern wilderness, and brought him back to stand trial. These are but samples of what the North-West Mounted Police have been doing for over thirty years for the fair name of Canada.

When the Strathcona Horse were organized for South African service, 300 members of the corps were mounted policemen; the gallant commander was the commissioner, Lieutenant-Colonel Steele, and the whole Empire is familiar with their record there. Many of the members are "remittance men," the younger sons and often the prodigals of well-known English families, and not infrequently of noble birth. In recent years there has been added to their duties the care of the Yukon, and the maintenance of order in this great gold camp far up at the Arctic Circle has fully sustained their reputation.

CHAPTER VII

THE SHIP OF THE PRAIRIE

"All aboard!" Such is the commanding cry which rings out in a Canadian railway-station when a train is quite ready to start. "All aboard!" shouts the conductor as he walks briskly alongside the train. In climb the waiting passengers, and without further warning the big, ponderous engine begins to move; and as it moves, the big bell which it carries begins to toll, and keeps on tolling until the train is well clear of the station. There is no string of guards and porters crying, "Take your seats, please!" and no ringing of a station bell, as in England. The conductor is the master of the train. Indeed, he is more like the captain of a ship, and wields almost as much authority over his passengers as does the captain of a big Atlantic liner. You will notice that his cry when the train is ready to start is one that would be appropriate to use to people intending to embark on a vessel. The camel in tropical countries is called the "ship of the desert." It would be just as suitable to call the Canadian train the "ship of the prairie," especially as many phrases are used with regard to trains that we are more accustomed to associate with travelling by sea. For instance, when a Canadian merchant sends away by train a quantity of timber or of potatoes, or even groceries, he always speaks of "shipping" them. Again, the men who are in charge of a train – namely, the engine-driver, the stoker, the conductor, the luggage-clerk (baggage-man), the post-office officials (mail-clerks), and the parcels official (express agent), are spoken of collectively as the "train crew."

The Canadian engine, which is a big, heavy thing, generally painted black, so that it has not the smart look of an English railway locomotive, carries a huge acetylene lamp fixed high up on the front of the funnel, and with this it can light up the track for many yards in front of it as it puffs along at night. When it wants to give a warning, it does not whistle in the shrill way an English railway locomotive does: it gives out an ear-splitting, hoarse, hollow-sounding scream or roar that can be heard a long way off, and also rings the big "chapel" bell. And when it is entering a station, it keeps on clanging its bell until it comes to a dead standstill at the platform.

The through trains on the transcontinental railways carry three classes of passengers – colonist, tourist, and first-class, or "Pullman," as they are called, from the name of the great American firm which long made the Pullman or palace cars for all the railways in America. Those who travel by the latter live as luxuriously as if they were at an hotel; a dining-car accompanies them in which a full-course dinner is served; there are libraries, shower-baths, even barber's shops, on some of these trains, and each train is fitted with observation-cars with glass sides, from which one can view the scenery at fifty miles an hour. Besides this, the railways maintain fine hotels at all the places of interest, just as is done at home.

The conductor of the train not only does what the guard on an English train does, but he also performs the duties of ticket-examiner and booking- or ticket-clerk as well. Whilst the train is still travelling he walks through the cars, one after the other, and examines and punches the passengers' tickets; and if a passenger has not got a ticket, the conductor will give him one and take the money for it. This saves the railway company the expense of having ticket-collectors at every station. Another reason why the conductor performs these duties is that at many of the small stations there is no station-master and no booking-clerk. Except in certain of the largest towns, there are no porters at the railway-stations. In consequence of this, railway-travellers generally carry only a small portmanteau or valise in their hands. The general name for a handbag, portmanteau, or valise is "grip." Before setting out on a journey the traveller hands his heavy baggage over to the "baggage-master," who ties a strong cardboard label to it bearing a number and a letter of the alphabet and the name of the town the traveller is going to, and at the same time he gives a similar piece of cardboard, bearing exactly the same number and the same letter and the name of the town, to the passenger. When the passenger reaches the town he is going to, he goes to the baggage-office and presents his cardboard ticket, and the official gives up to him the trunk or box which bears the corresponding number and letter. This is called "checking baggage through."

The passenger coaches, known as "cars," on the Canadian railways are very different from the passenger carriages in England. You do not enter at doors in the sides, but you climb up to a platform at the end and enter from the platform. A gangway runs through the middle of the car from the one end to the other. In this way, even when the engine is running at full speed, you are able to travel all through the train, crossing from one car to the other by means of the platforms at the end of each. On each side of the gangway of the car are the seats, facing each other, and affording room for four passengers in each recess. At night the seats can be pulled out until they meet one another, and in that way they make a bed, on which the porter places mattresses and bedclothes and around which he hangs curtains. About one-half of the passengers generally sleep, however, above the heads of those who lie on the seats. High up, all along the sides of each gangway, there are big, broad shelves, which can be let down at night, and pushed up again out of the way in the daytime. It is on these shelves that many of the passengers sleep. Each "shelf" will hold two people.

At each end of each car there are dressing and washing rooms, and on emigrant sleeping-cars a recess holds a small stove for cooking. In the early morning, on an emigrant or colonist train, quite a crowd of people gather round the door of their little dressing-room, waiting their turns to get in, for the room is very tiny, and will not hold more than three persons at a time, especially when one is a man trying to shave without cutting his chin, for very often the cars shake and rattle, and even lurch and jump. Every man comes in his shirt-sleeves, and carries his towel and hair-brush, his soap or his comb; and whilst they stand about waiting their turns, there is generally a good deal of good-natured gossiping and jesting, especially if the train shakes much, and they stumble against one another. On a Pullman, or first-class sleeping-car, however, the accommodation is much better, and one can wash and dress almost as comfortably as in a good hotel.

Nearly all Canadians are great travellers. The large towns are mostly situated wide apart, and to get from the one to the other you generally have to make long journeys. In all countries railways are important features; but in Canada, owing to the vast distances and the way in which the population live scattered over the immense territory, the railways are of especial importance. Frequently the railway is the first pioneer in opening up a district for settlement, being built to reach a wealthy mine or a petroleum-field, and as the railway penetrates mile after mile into the unoccupied valley, little towns spring up alongside it. In this way the hoarse bray of the railway-engine awakens the sleeping echoes of mountain glen or river valley before the sound of the settler's axe is heard or the smoke of the emigrant's camp-fire seen. The two biggest railways in Canada are the Canadian Pacific Railroad, known in short form as the C.P.R., and the Grand Trunk Pacific Railroad, or the G.T.R. Both these form a link, and a very important link, in the route between England on the one side and Japan, China, and Australia on the other.

In the Rocky Mountains and in the other ranges the gradients on the railways are necessarily very steep, one at the Kicking Horse Pass (so called from the figure of a great horse which can be seen in the rock on the side of the mountain) is 6 in 100. In rainy weather, and in the spring, when the frost loosens the soil, huge boulders may come sliding down and cover the track. As the track curves in all directions (near Glacier one can see four tracks side by side as it loops round to climb the mountain-side), it would be impossible for the engineer to see these obstructions in time to save his train, so the track is patrolled constantly by men night and day. On the steep gradients there are switches which lead off from the main line and run up the mountain-side, so that a train rushing down the slope and running up on to one of these tracks soon loses its impetus and slows down. These traps are used to stop the train when there is danger ahead, the patrol opens the switch, which automatically sets a signal, so that the engineer knows what is coming, and the train loses its force up the steep switch instead of plunging into the abyss below. As you lie in your berth at night and watch the great shining spot of the searchlight on the front of the engine as it lights up mountain, crag, and deep defile 1,000 yards ahead, the clear whistle rings out in the night; anxiously you count one, two, three, four, and sink back relieved. "All right on the main line!" and you know that the lonely patrol man is faithful in the humble task on which the life of hundreds may depend.

In many parts of Canada the snowfall is very heavy, and causes the railways constant trouble, for if the wind blows it soon piles up, so that the trains cannot force their way through it. Of course it would take too long to shovel it out by hand, so gigantic snow-ploughs are used. These are pushed ahead of the engine, and send the snow flying to the fences on both sides of the track. Where it is very deep and frozen hard, a "rotatory low" is used, with a large boring machine attached to the front of it to cut its way into the drifts, and often from two to four engines may be needed to force it through the deepest cuts. In the mountain districts, where the track is exposed to snow slides, the tracks are covered by great sheds of strong timber, over which the white avalanche can slide into the cañon below.

The history of the Canadian railways has thus been very different from that of the English railways, for these last were mostly built to connect the big towns together, and the towns existed before the railways were built.

There is also another great difference between the English and the Canadian railways. In the former country the men who built the railways were obliged to buy all the land they wanted to build them on. In the latter country – Canada – the land was given by the Government to those who constructed the railways; and not only that, but the Government paid them to build their lines by granting them many acres of land on each side of the track all the way through. This was because there were not enough people in the regions through which the railways were made to provide sufficient passengers and traffic to pay the expenses of running trains.

In the mountainous districts, especially in the Far West, the railways are often the principal highways. There are no other roads, and so people walk along the railway-lines. When a man tramps a long distance in this way he is said to "count the ties," for the cross-beams of wood on which the steel rails are laid are not called "sleepers," as they are in England, but they are called "ties." And it is usual for these ties to be looked after, over a distance of several miles, by a small gang of men called "section men." It is their duty to keep the railway-track safe by cutting out old and worn-out ties, and putting new ones in their places. In lonely parts of the country the section-men's house, or "shack," is sometimes the only human dwelling to be found for many miles. The section-men generally go to and from their work on a machine called a "trolley," or hand-car, a sort of square wooden platform running on four wheels. The men stand on the platform and work two big handles up and down, very much as a man works a pump-handle, and by that means turn the cranks which make the wheels go round. "The speeder" is the name given to a smaller vehicle or machine, which runs on three wheels, one of them running at the end of a couple of iron rods, something like the outrigger on a surf-boat of Madras. The speeder is worked by one man, who propels it after the manner of one riding a bicycle. This is a very useful means of travelling when a doctor is summoned into the country and there is no train to be had for several hours; for on some of the Canadian lines there is only one train a day each way, the same set of engine and cars running up and down the line every day.

The goods trains are known as freight trains. The "cars" which run on them are very much bigger and heavier than the trucks on an English goods train, and can carry 20 to 50 tons each. When the cars are sent back empty, they are generally made up into trains of enormous length. As many as fifty-six have been counted in one train, so that the train itself is often more than a quarter of a mile long, and in the mountainous parts looks like a gigantic snake, as it winds, let us say, alongside a lake, following every curve and indentation of its shore.

"Through the gorge that gives the stars at noon-day clear —
Up the pass that packs the scud beneath our wheel —
Round the bluff that sinks her thousand fathom sheer —
Down the valley with our guttering brakes asqueal:
Where the trestle groans and quivers in the snow,
Where the many-shedded levels loop and twine,
Hear me lead my reckless children from below
Till we sing the song of Roland to the pine.

"So we ride the iron stallions down to drink,
Through the cañons to the waters of the west!"

    KIPLING: The Song of the Banjo.

CHAPTER VIII

GOLDEN WHEAT AND THE BIG RED APPLE

The most important product of the Dominion of Canada is wheat. Except for a little hay and oats, the big prairie provinces of Manitoba, Saskatchewan, and Alberta are especially noted for their production of wheat, which they yield in truly enormous quantities. In point of quality Canadian wheat ranks amongst the best in the world. But the three big prairie provinces are not the only ones that produce wheat; it is also grown in Ontario, as well as, in smaller quantity, in each of the other provinces.

As soon as the snow disappears in spring, the prairie farmer gets out his ploughs, and if he owns, as many of the prairie farmers do, large tracts of land, his ploughs are worked by steam. In the North-West there are no fields and no fences, except, it may be, round the home paddock. In this case the ploughs set in and follow one another from one end of the farm to the other; and when they reach the boundary of the farm, they turn round and plough back again. Thus the furrow may be a quarter of a mile, half a mile, or even a mile long. The ploughing finished, the seed is sown. When harvest comes, the ripe corn is cut down by the reaping-machines, following one another in the same way as the ploughs. In many cases the wheat is threshed at the same time that it is cut, and the grain put, not into sacks, but loose straight into the waggons, which are built up like huge bins. The wheat is then hauled to the nearest town where there is an elevator or granary. Here it is graded, or separated into different sizes, by fine riddles or sieves driven by machinery, and the farmer is paid so much a bushel for his wheat, the price varying with the grade, or size and hardness and quality of the grain. The straw is very often burned, as the easiest way to get rid of it. If a North-West farmer has three good years in succession, he can, it is sometimes asserted, retire from business and live on a competency for the rest of his life.

After the harvest the railways of the prairie provinces are exceedingly busy carrying the wheat to the shipping ports, where it can be loaded into ships to be taken across the ocean. The greater part of this wheat is consumed in England and Scotland, and a great deal of it is put on board ship at Port Arthur and Fort William on the northern shore of Lake Superior, whence it goes all the rest of the way by water. A large portion of it is, however, ground into flour before ever it leaves Canada, and the flour is sent to make bread for boys and girls, not only in England and Scotland, but also in Australia, in China, and Japan.

In Alberta, just east of the Rocky Mountains, where the climate is milder than in the heart of the prairie provinces, a large number of cattle are reared and fed, and there a good deal of hay is cut, and sent over the mountains into British Columbia.

For many years the chief agency in opening up the North-West was the cattle-rancher. The life of the cowboy, though not so romantic as it is sometimes represented to be, has, nevertheless, its interesting side to the man who loves the free life of the open air. "The business of ranching has grown from a small beginning of the early days to be one of the great industries of the West. It began when the Mounted Police brought into Southern Alberta a couple of milch cows and a few yokes of oxen for their own use." This was about the year 1873. Three years later a member of the same force bought a small herd, but having no other way of providing for the animals, he turned them loose on the prairie to shift for themselves. There, although without shelter or provision for food, they survived the winter, escaping the wolves, predatory Indians, and prairie fires. Nowadays, cattle are generally left cut of doors on the prairies all the winter in Alberta. Here the winters are neither severe nor prolonged. "The days are bright and cloudless, and the light snowfalls are neither frequent nor lasting. They vanish before the warm Chinook winds, and are followed by days of soft weather. There are cold snaps in January and the early part of February, but the winter breaks up early in March, and before April the prairies are spangled with flowers – false indigo, shooting stars, and violets, with roses, lupines, and vetches, following after – until the prairie is all aglow with wonderful colour."

In Alberta, as well as in the provinces of Eastern Canada, a good deal of cheese and butter are made. The farmers do not make it in their own dairies, but they take it to creameries and to cheese-factories, like those which are run on the co-operative principle in Ireland, Denmark, and other countries.

The principal town of the prairie provinces is Winnipeg, the capital of Manitoba, which has a good deal of the appearance of a brand-new, go-ahead American city. In 1881 its population was 6,000; twenty-five years later it reached 100,000. It has a very large volume of trade.

In the provinces of Nova Scotia and Ontario large quantities of fruit are grown and exported to England. In Nova Scotia apples are the fruit most extensively raised; the valleys of Annapolis and Cornwallis in that province are especially famous for their fine red apples. In Ontario the fruit-growing region is the peninsula which projects southwards between the great lakes. There apples are not the only fruit produced in large quantity; grapes and peaches are also grown on a large scale, grapes more especially in the neighbourhood of the famous Niagara Falls. But in recent years the distant western province of British Columbia has come rapidly to the front as a producer of fruit, especially of apples, cherries, peaches, and strawberries. These last, strawberries, as well as cherries, are sold principally in the towns of the prairie provinces. The apples are rapidly taking rank as amongst the best in the world. They are of magnificent colour, free from every form of disease or blemish, and travel well for long distances.

In December, 1907, an apple-show was held at New Westminster, at the mouth of the Fraser River, in British Columbia, where prizes were given (1) for the best display of apples, (2) for the five best packed boxes of apples, and (3) for the single best packed box. Out of these three events, British Columbia apples won two first prizes and one second, although she had for competitors some of the most expert growers in the United States. And again in December of the following year, at a great apple-show held at Spokane, in the American State of Washington, undoubtedly the biggest and most important apple-show ever held in any part of the world, British Columbia covered herself with glory. The prize-money amounted to no less than £7,000, and the separate prizes amounted to as much as £100. In this great show, at which expert fruit-growers from all over the United States, from Eastern Canada, from British Columbia, from England, Germany, and Norway, were pitted one against the other, British Columbia won several of the most important of the prizes, and on the whole, considering the amount of fruit she staged, won a long way more than her proper proportion of prizes. The writer of this book was himself the proud winner of twelve prizes for apples at this great show. Altogether it is estimated that something like 400 tons of apples, all of them, of course, specially picked fruit, were shown on the tables of the Spokane apple-show. What a sight for a British schoolboy! The biggest apple in the show weighed close upon 2 pounds in weight!

The apples of Ontario and Nova Scotia are packed into light wooden barrels; those of British Columbia in oblong boxes holding 40 pounds. No matter what the size or the variety of the apples, all have to be packed in the one sized box. When well packed, with the apples all level and even, and beautifully coloured, as they nearly always are, a box of British Columbia apples is a perfectly lovely sight. And they are as good as they look. But even more appetizing and attractive is a box of Kootenay cherries, Kootenay being the name of the principal cherry-growing district of British Columbia. The boxes into which the cherries are packed are, of course, much smaller than the boxes into which the apples are packed. A cherry box holds only 8 pounds of fruit.

One of the most beautiful of all the beautiful sights on a fruit-ranch is the blossoming of the cherry-trees in May. The waxy white blossoms not only cover – literally and truly cover – the branches from end to end, but they also stick to the trunk and main limbs of the trees, much as the feathers muffle the legs of certain kinds of pullets.

The fruit-ranches in Kootenay, and many of those in the even more famous Valley of Okanagan, occupy some of the most beautiful situations in the world, being strung along the feet of lofty rocky mountains, with a lake washing their lower margin. And how magnificently beautiful are these mountains and the deep, tranquil lakes which nestle in their arms!

CHAPTER IX