alinost parallel lines north and south, the valley of the Bow, when it has resumed its southerly direction, being between Mt. Rundle and the Fairholme Range. Between the ranges come down small streams that feed the Bow. Thus from the south the Spray has cut a valley for itself between Mts. Rundle and Sulphur, and the Sundance Creek is between Mt. Sulphur and the Bourgeau Range. From the north, besides Cascade, the Bow receives Forty Mile Creek, which flows between the Vermilion and Sawback Ranges and then winds round the spurs of Stoney Squaw Mt. An enlargement of the Bow forms the Vermilion Lakes, charming sheets of water, that with many meandering waterwavs occupy the low ground of the valley and give the visitor unexpected and

lovely views of the giants that surround them and unsurpassed opportunities for boating.

Banff Hotel stands on the south bank of the Bow, close to the mouth of the Spray. It has recently been enlarged, and now accommodates three hundred people. It is fitted up in the most comfortable fashion, with rooms single and en suite, and may challenge comparison with any other summer hotel on the continent.

A drive of great charm can be made to Lake Minnewanka that, shaped like a huge sickle, lies just north of Mt. Inglismaldie. It is eight miles from Banff, and the road leads up the valley of the Cascade under the shadow of that glorious peak. The lake is nearly ten miles long, and its waters are strangely diversified in hue, deep blue and pale green giving way to yellow or grey, while

a streak of red appears here and there where some glacial stream debouches, and its peaceful surface reflects the ranges with absolute fidelity.

From the lake extends the valley of the Ghost River, one arm of which runs along under the shadow of the Devil's Head Mt., a peak that rises black and sombre to the north-east. The granite crags contain deep caves, the rivulets disappear to hidden reservoirs and the river runs along with mysterious, subterranean rumblings a solitary, awesome region. The reasons of these uncanny manifestations were quite beyond the Indians, who for ages were the sole human beings to tread the valley, and it is not surprising that they saw in the great rocks, piled in majestic confusion, and the deep rumblings issuing from the bowels of the earth, the agency of powers supernatural and terrible. Even

now the visitor, fortified by all the knowledge of a scientific and rationalistic age, can, if he chooses, call up the feelings of the superstitious savage, and must be deeply impressed by the Valley of the Ghost.

The track from Banff to Laggan runs with thick groves on either side through a world of mountains. The observation car, attached to the trains, admirably fulfils the purpose for which it was designed, and gives uninterrupted views of the scenery all round; but the tourist may also travel between Banff and Laggan, if he so prefers, by special motor cars, built on the model of the open street railway car. They are driven by gasoline engines of twenty horsepower, and have a possible speed of twenty-five to thirty miles an hour. They are constructed with the sole idea of affording passengers the opportunity of enjoying the magnificent mountain vistas in the greatest comfort and at their leisure,

and they have become a popular institution, as it is found they give a latitude the exigencies of the regular trains cannot allow.

After leaving Banff, the track runs through the tangled bottom, where sleep the Vermilion Lakes, a labyrinth of waterways, set off by grassy banks and thick woods.

Laggan is a station for a land of rare beauty. Within the mountains that overshadow it are enclosed the three lakes in the clouds, Paradise Valley, and the Valley of the Ten Peaks. The scenery differs from that which excited admiration at Banff, but it is of even greater charm, and those who pass by Laggan without halting have missed one of the most dainty bits ever carved by nature's deft fingers.

The first sheet, Lake Louise, is reached from Laggan station by a drive of two and a half miles ever upward through a spruce forest. Here, on the very verge of the water, in the midst of the evergreen wood, the C.P.R. has built a lovely châlet, which has since been enlarged to a great hotel. It is open from June 1st to September 15th, and at it Swiss guides, horses and packers can be hired for excursions near or far.

As the name, Moraine, implies, the lake is situated at the foot of a moraine, as the mass of debris and rocks of every size and kind a glacier brings down is called. A great glacier has found its way down the heights at the head of the lake and has forced its course between and round the peaks. For a third of the distance from the lake to the summit the ice is entirely covered by a pic

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turesque mass of rocks, piled in such disorder as chance directed the ice should leave them. It is a picturesque and awe-inspiring sight. On either side the rocks rise sheer from the glacier, and as the sun lights up one precipice, gilding and bringing into relief every detail of pinnacle or crevice, while the other is left in deepest shadow, the effect is magnificent in the extreme.

An interesting feature about this glacier is that it seems to be advancing. For some reason that cannot be explained, the glaciers, not only in the Canadian mountains, but the world over, have of late years been receding, and the Moraine Lake ice-river is, therefore, an exception to the usual rule. Its force is tremendous, and it is most impressive to note how the woods have fallen before its resistless force.

At Field the prospect widens, and the Kicking Horse River for a short distance flows across broad, level. flats, that are only covered when the water is high. The place itself is a prosperous little village, but is dwarfed into insignificance by the splendid mountains that hem it in. On one side is Mt. Burgess, on the other Mt. Stephen, one of the grandest of all the Rockies.

Looking from the shoulder of Mt. Burgess or Mt. Stephen the valley seems narrow, the river a mere stream, and the dwellings in the villages dolls' houses. From below Mt. Stephen fills. all the view; so rounded, so symmetrical that the spectator hardly realizes at first that he has before him a rock mass towering 10,000 feet above sea level and 6,500 feet above the valley. as he gazes its majesty bears in on him and he is filled with a sense of awe and wonder. One great shoulder is thrown forward,

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