after leaving Winnipeg. The railway track some miles ahead was not yet completed, and we could not at once proceed. There was still a gap between the rails laid from the east and those from the west. The delay gave time for reflection, and it was not felt to be tedious among the surprising wealth of mountain scenery on every side. For myself I could not help contrasting the luxurious travelling which the railway afforded with the experience of my little party journeying westward through the mountains in 1883. The special train remained for part of a day and night at a place which has received the name of Revelstoke—almost the identical spot where a couple of years before we found ourselves in a seriously embarrassing situation from the near prospect of starvation. At other times on the journey I usually took my stand on the rear platform watching as we passed the changing scenery and trying to recognize the ground laboriously passed over on the former journey.
Early on the morning of November 7th the hundreds of busy workmen gradually brought the two tracks nearer and nearer, and at 9 o'clock the last rail was laid in its place to complete the railway connection from Ocean to Ocean. All that remained to finish the work was to drive home the last spike. This duty devolved on one of the four directors present—the senior in years and influence, he who is now known the world over as Lord Strathcona. No one could on such an occasion more worthily represent the Company by taking hold of the spike hammer and giving the finishing blows.
It was indeed no ordinary occasion. The scene was in every respect noteworthy, from the groups which composed it and the circumstances which had brought together so many human beings in this spot in the heart of the mountains, until recently an untracked solitude. The engineers, the workmen, every one
