of the scenery in Glacier Park and the great mountain range of which
it is only a small part, are recommended to consult A. O. Wheeler's
delightful guide-book, _The Selkirk Mountains_, and the same author's
exhaustive work published by the Dominion Government, _The Selkirk
Range_. These are not only readable and authoritative, but with the
exception of Green's _Among the Selkirk Glaciers_, they are the only
books available on this very important region.[3]
[3] Since the above was written Howard Palmer's _Mountaineering and
Exploration in the Selkirks_ has been published, making a very
important addition to the scanty literature on the subject.
[Illustration: MOUNT SIR DONALD AND ILLECILLEWAET GLACIER. _Mary M.
Vaux, W. S. Vaux, and G. Vaux, Jr._]
[Illustration: A BIT OF THE ILLECILLEWAET. _Canadian Pacific Railway
Company_]
[Illustration: THE HIGH FRONTIER OF BRITISH COLUMBIA. _A. Knechtel_]
[Illustration: ON THE SUMMIT OF SIR DONALD. _A. O. Wheeler_]
VIII
THE CAVES OF NAKIMU
The traveller who for the sake of contrast or variety desires to enjoy
a sensation as different as possible from the glorious panorama of
mountain and valley, lake and waterfall, rich in colouring, instinct
with the life-giving qualities of sun and air, cannot do better than
spend an afternoon in the Caves of Nakimu. It will be to him as though
he were transported from the domains of the Upper Gods to the gloomy
realm of Pluto. Under the guardianship of C. H. Deutschmann, the
official guide, whose cabin stands across a small ravine from the
visitor's camp, the caves may be explored with safety and a reasonable
degree of comfort. The facilities for getting about the caves and
underground passages is still rather primitive, but sufficient to
ensure the safety of visitors, and you have the advantage of seeing
everything in its natural state. One can appreciate the hardihood of
Deutschmann, who alone, and with nothing but tallow candles, explored
caves and potholes and corridors. As Mr. Wheeler has said, "Added to
the thick darkness, there was always the fierce, vibrating roar of
subterranean torrents, a sound most nerve-shaking in a position
sufficiently uncanny without it. Huge cracks had to be crossed and
precipitous descents made in pitch darkness, where a misstep meant
death or disablement."
The caves extend into the south slopes of Mount Ursus Major and Mount
Cheops and into the north slopes of Cougar Mountain. The rock out of
which the caves have been carved, by Nature's patient craftsmen, is
described as a "marbleized limestone, varying in colour from very dark
blue, almost black, shot with ribbons of calcite, through varying
shades of grey to almost white." There are no stalactites or
stalagmites worth mentioning.
The caves are in three sections, known as the Gopher Bridge, Mill
Bridge, and the Gorge. The following description is taken from Arthur
O. Wheeler's account of his survey in 1905.
The Gopher Bridge caves are approached by two openings, one known as
the Old Entrance, the other as the New Entrance. Mr. Wheeler used the
former in his visit, and took his observation by the light of gas
lamps and magnesium wire. Not far from the entrance he came to a
place where the passage dropped suddenly into space. "Standing on a
ledge that overhangs a black abyss," he says, "the eye is first drawn
by a subterranean waterfall heard roaring immediately on the left. It
appears to pour from a dark opening above it. Below, between black
walls of rock, may be seen the foam-flecked torrent hurtling down the
incline until lost in dense shadows. Overhead, fantastic spurs and
shapes reach out into the blackness, and the entire surroundings are
so weird and uncanny that it is easy to imagine Dante seated upon one
of these spurs deriving impressions for his Inferno. As the brilliant
light gives out, the thick darkness makes itself felt, and
instinctively you feel to see if Charon is not standing beside you.
This subterranean stream with its unearthly surroundings is suggestive
of the Styx and incidentally supplied the name Avernus for the cavern
of the waterfall." The Cavern of Avernus is reached by the New
Entrance, through a small passage.
Cougar Brook emerges from the Gopher Bridge caves 450 feet down the
valley, and after pouring down a rock-cut known as the Flume,
disappears into the Mill Bridge caves. The entrance is some thirty
feet to the east, through a cleft in the rock. A passageway of 400
feet leads to an irregularly shaped chamber known as the Auditorium,
through which Cougar Brook roars its way. "Faint daylight enters
through the passageway of the waters, making the place look dim and
mysterious." The passageway is broken at intervals by potholes, ten or
fifteen feet deep, necessitating a series of rough ladders, and in one
case a floating bridge as the pothole is half filled with water.
Emerging from the Mill Bridge caves, the brook runs for 300 feet
through a deep gorge spanned by two natural bridges, and then enters
the third series of caves. Creeping down a long passageway, with the
dull roar of the stream ever in your ears, you come to a sharp descent
of twelve feet with natural footholds, but persons unaccustomed to
climbing are advised to use a rope to steady the descent. "Here the
brook is heard far down rushing through some rock-cut with a dull
intermittent pounding like the blows of a giant sledge-hammer."
A passage to the right brings you to the Dropping Cave, with walls and
ceiling of dark blue limestone streaked with white calcite, and water
dropping everywhere from the roof. From the eastern end of this cave a
narrow passage leads to the Witch's Ball Room, a triangular cavern
whose floor is broken by deep cracks "leading down to where the
underground stream roars threateningly." Beyond this are several other
passages and smaller chambers, the farthest known as the Pit.
Another entrance to the Gorge caves, known as Entrance No. 3, leads
first to a small cavern, reached by a ladder from above. A very narrow
passage, which must be negotiated by means of a rope, brings you to a
ledge overlooking a sheer drop of sixty feet.
From one of the passages leading to the Pit, a cavern is reached,
named the Turbine, owing to the noise from waterspouts resembling the
sound of water falling into the pit of a turbine. Farther on is the
Art Gallery, so called from the "florescent designs of overlying
carbonate of lime, in colour from cream to delicate salmon."
Beyond the Art Gallery, a long passage brings you to a narrow twisted
opening named the Gimlet, and to two ancient potholes leading to
unknown depths, and "profusely ornamented with florescent
incrustation." One of these is named the Dome, from its perfect form.
A passage from the other leads to the Judgment Hall.
In this section of the Gorge Caves the subterranean river crosses the
main passage some depth below, and its roar is now heard from the
right side. A narrow opening leads to the Carbonate Grotto which has
some fine floral designs. Another passage of 130 feet brings you to a
crack in the wall, from which a descent of 57 feet leads to the
Judgment Hall mentioned before. This is the largest of the caves, 200
feet wide and from 40 to 50 feet high.
From the Judgment Hall, other passages lead to the White Grotto, so
named from the beauty and delicacy of its ornamentations; and the
Bridal Chamber, also covered with floral designs.
The Caves of Nakimu are of peculiar interest to the geologist, as the
limestone of which they are composed is rare in the Selkirks. The
subterranean stream which forms the principal feature of the caves is
also a rare phenomenon either in the Rockies or Selkirks. There is
some difference of opinion as to the origin of the caves. The
passageways are unquestionably due in a measure to water-erosion, but
Mr. Wheeler, who has given the matter much study, is convinced that a
more potent agency has been at work. "It is not unreasonable to
assume," he says, "that a seismic disturbance once shattered this bed
of crystalline limestone and precipitated Cougar Creek into
subterranean channels which the water and time have enlarged to their
present size; moreover, that subsequent shocks are responsible for the
large quantities of debris that litter their floors. This hypothesis
would explain the crack of the Gorge and similar chasms beneath the
surface."
[Illustration: THE WEIRD CAVES OF NAKIMU. _Canadian Pacific Railway
Company_]
IX
MOUNTAIN CLIMBING AND CLIMBERS
Some of the most notable exploits in mountain-climbing in the Canadian
Rockies have been by officers of the Dominion Government, such as J.
J. McArthur and A. O. Wheeler, merely as incidents to their serious
work of topographical surveying. The advent of the mountaineer as
such, and the development of the region as a mountaineer's paradise,
dates from the visit of William Spotswood Green in 1888. Probably his
book, which appeared two years later, did as much as anything else to
bring others to the Canadian mountains. At any rate, in 1890, members
of the English and Swiss Alpine Clubs, and the Appalachian Mountain
Club of Boston, visited the Selkirks, and returned with enthusiastic
accounts of the new field available to mountain climbers.
The visit of Professor Charles E. Fay, of the Appalachian Club, led to
the formation of an Alpine section of that club, and later to the
organisation of the American Alpine Club. The Alpine Club of Canada
came into being in 1906, and since that date, under the notable
leadership of A. O. Wheeler, has rapidly gained strength and
influence, drawing into its fold an ever-increasing number of those
who find keen pleasure and a widening and strengthening of all their
faculties in the splendid sport of mountain-climbing, or in the mere
dwelling from day to day in the companionship of some of the most
noble works of Nature.
The earlier explorations of mountain-climbers, following that of
Green, were confined pretty well to the Selkirks, but as interest
spread the great peaks of the main range were attempted, and one after
another succumbed to the attacks of such notable climbers as Outram,
Fay and Parker; Collie, Stutfield and Woolley; Abbott, Eggers, Weed
and Thompson, and the prince of all mountain-climbers, Whymper. A
brief account will now be given of some of these ascents in the
Rockies, leaving the Selkirks to another chapter.
Dr. Fay made an attempt upon Mount Goodsir in 1901, with Outram and
Scattergood, and the veteran Swiss guide Christian Haesler, but
owing to the exceptionally dangerous condition of the snow near the
summit the party were forced to turn back at the foot of the final
peak. Two years later this superb peak of the Ottertail Range was
again attacked by Dr. Fay, accompanied this time by Professor Parker,
and the guides Christian Kaufmann and Haesler. Dr. Fay has described
both climbs in the _Canadian Alpine Journal_, 1907, from which the
following account is taken.
The party camped at the foot of the mountain, in 1901, and set out at
daybreak the following morning. A stiff climb brought them to the base
of a steep cliff beyond which rose the final peak. "Before us," says
Dr. Fay, "rose this beetling face of dark rock, with little snow
patches here and there revealing possible stations, between which only
cracks and slight protuberances offered scanty holds for foot and
hand." With great care, however, they finally reached the top of the
cliff. Here, however, they were brought to a standstill.
"A most ominous situation revealed itself. The final peak was before
us, and its summit hardly three hundred feet distant--a great white
hissing mass,--a precipice on the hidden left side, a steep snow-slope
of perhaps 65 to 70 degrees on the right. Under the July sun its
whole surface was seemingly in a state of flux, slipping over the
underlying mass with a constant, threatening hiss. A second narrow
arete led across to this final summit. This, too, was corniced, and in
a remarkable way. The swirl of the wind had produced an unusual
spectacle. At the beginning and at the end, the cornice hung out to
the right; in the middle, a reversed section of it overhung the abyss
on the left.
"The two similar ones could doubtless have been passed. To cross the
middle section meant trusting ourselves to the sun-beaten slope
already in avalanching condition. Indeed, while we studied it, and as
if to furnish the final argument to our debate, the snow on our right
impinging against the cornice broke away, and down went a
well-developed avalanche a couple of thousand feet over that
much-tilted surface, and vanished in a sheer plunge that landed it
perhaps three thousand feet below that. It was a suggestive and
persuasive sight. Feeling sure that we had seen enough for one day we
beat a careful retreat."
The 1903 climb was practically identical with that of 1901, but the
conditions were entirely different. "The broken arete was indeed under
a draping of recent snow, but no cornice was in evidence. It was
'plain sailing'--and yet very interesting, for the arete was so narrow
and thin that one astride it could have his left leg vertical over a
sheer drop, at first indeed overhanging, of hundreds if not thousands
of feet, while its mate pointed down that 76 deg. slope of snow, as silent
now as it was noisy in 1901. At eleven o'clock we were on the
summit--Goodsir was ours. The repulse of two years ago was forgotten,
and our affections went out to the graceful peak, no longer a sullen
monster, and, for the joys of that one glorious hour spent on its pure
snowy summit, we granted it our love for a lifetime."
The same year Professor Parker, with the guides Christian and Hans
Kaufmann, made a successful attack on Mount Hungabee, the grim
"Chieftain" (as the Indian name is translated) that stands guard at
the head of Paradise Valley.
The party left the Chalet at Lake Louise on the morning of July 20th,
and travelling up the Valley of the Ten Peaks, crossed over by a high
pass into Prospectors Valley where they camped. The following morning
at 3.50 they left camp and tramped up the valley to the foot of
Hungabee. A steep slope brought them to the foot of a vertical cliff,
the only practical means of ascent being by way of a narrow chimney
filled with ice. Christian Kaufmann went ahead, leaving his companions
at the foot of the cliff until he should reach the top.
"It was only," says Professor Parker, "by watching the rope that Hans
and I could judge the progress Christian was making above us. For
minutes at a time, it seemed, the rope would be motionless, then inch
by inch it would slowly disappear up the chimney, and the crash of
falling rocks and ice would warn us that we must cling even more
closely and find what protection we could beneath the rocky wall." At
last Christian gave the signal to follow, and the others soon stood
beside him at the top of the chimney. Above them a smooth, steep slope
led to the final peak, over which they made their way without
difficulty. The summit was now only a few hundred feet above, but the
arete or ridge leading to it was broken by vertical cliffs and quite
unscalable. The only alternative was to traverse a tremendously steep
snow-slope at the base of the cliffs and so reach the final cone.
"We did not," says Professor Parker, "discuss the possible dangers of
such a course, but cautiously made our way beneath the cliffs, turned
a most sensational corner almost in mid-air above Paradise Valley,
and then scaled a nearly perpendicular cliff by means of a convenient
crack. We were now on the arete but a very short distance from the
summit. Only one more difficulty confronted us: a narrow 'gabel,' or
break in the arete, only a few feet in width it is true, but with a
nearly sheer descent of thousands of feet on either side. This gabel
must be crossed to reach the summit. The arete was far too narrow to
allow a jump being made with safety; so, slowly and carefully, while
firmly grasping the rock on one side, Christian thrust his feet
forward until they touched the other and his body bridged the chasm;
then a strong forward swing, and he stood safely beyond the gap. For
me, aided by the rope, the matter was far less difficult, and soon we
made our way over the intervening arete, gained the corniced summit,
and Hungabee, the grim old 'Chieftain,' at last was conquered."
Among many daring climbs in the Canadian Rockies, few have been more
sensational than the successful ascent of Pinnacle Mountain, on the
eastern side of Paradise Valley, by J. W. A. Hickson in 1909. The
following is borrowed from Mr. Hickson's spirited account of the climb
in the _Canadian Alpine Journal_, 1910. Several determined efforts had
been made to capture the peak during the summer of 1907, but the
season was unfavourable for mountaineering, and in every case the
climbers were driven back. The critical point was at the foot of an
almost vertical tower, a few hundred feet below the summit, but only
two possible means of surmounting this final wall presented
themselves. One was by way of a chimney or crack in the wall, and the
other in traversing the face of the mountain along an extremely narrow
ledge of peculiarly rotten rock. The first had been tried
unsuccessfully in 1907. The latter formed the route of the 1909
expedition. Mr. Hickson was accompanied by two Swiss guides, Edouard
Fuez, Jr., and Rudolf Aemmer.
"It was realised," says Mr. Hickson, "that only very slow progress
could be made in this direction, for the disintegrated tawny-coloured
limestone rock was of a most treacherous character. It was covered for
the most part with a glaze of ice, which when disturbed had a tendency
to bring the eroded limestone away with it. It was hard to say whether
the rock sustained the ice or vice versa; perhaps the support, such as
it was, was mutual.
"In our attempt to turn a sharp angle I found myself sitting for about
ten minutes--but for what seemed more like half an hour--astride
a rocky protuberance, which appeared likely to give way at any moment,
while Fuez was endeavouring to find a good footing on the other side.
For a few minutes I almost regretted that I had come; for there was a
sheer drop on either side of probably 2,000 feet. At many places there
were no handholds; and we dared not touch the rocks with our ice-axes
lest we should precipitate downwards the insecure supports we were
standing on. We were very much in the position of flies on a nearly
vertical wall covered with sand which from time to time was crumbling
off. There was no defined ledge to follow.
"Advancing gingerly with cat-like tread, and avoiding any spring or
jerk which might detach the insecure footholds and leave us hanging
precariously, Fuez picked out places here and there which offered the
chance of a support, and we were glad when we found a piece of rock an
inch or two wide and a few inches long on a part of which a nailed
boot-edge could obtain a transitory grip. It is remarkable how very
small a projection, if not slippery, will suffice for a temporary
hold. Fortunately not one of the party once slipped; thus avoiding any
test as to how far he could have been held by the others. Luckily,
also, we had lots of rope, so that we could allow about twenty-five
feet between each person, and thus enabled us at times to manoeuvre
into better positions.
"Our nerves throughout this period of two hours, during most of which
only one of us moved at a time, were at considerable tension; not a
moment of slackness or diminution of watchfulness being allowable. A
keen lookout was constantly demanded to meet an emergency which was
not at all improbable. Nothing could be taken or was taken for
granted, except that everything was unreliable and an accident might
be expected. This is perhaps why none occurred.
"After advancing persistently and almost horizontally along the face
of the wall for two hours, we saw an unexpected chance of reaching our
goal more speedily than we had latterly hoped. This was offered by a
large couloir leading to the 'saddle' between the black tower and the
summit of the mountain, which is not much higher than the top of the
tower. Fairly steep and broad, the gulch contained some ice and snow.
"As we got down into it Fuez turned to me and said, 'I think we've got
him,' of which I was already convinced. Crossing the couloir we
rapidly ascended the rocks on the left side and at its top, to our
great surprise, landed on a bed of shale, which by an easy slope led
in a few minutes to the summit."
After resting for a time on the summit, and enjoying the wonderful
panorama of peaks and valleys, they prepared to make the descent. It
being more trying and precarious to climb down than up a mountain, the
guides were unwilling to follow the rather hazardous route they had
taken on the way to the summit, if it could be avoided, and it was
therefore decided to attempt the chimney, on the other side of the
mountain.
"We followed a narrow but firm ledge for about fifteen minutes from
the saddle around the southerly tower. It then became necessary to
reconnoitre to see if the route proposed were further feasible. So the
second guide Aemmer, assisted by Fuez, went ahead and soon returned to
say that we could get down by roping off. This led to one of the most
interesting and exciting bits of the whole climb.
"At the corner or angle where the ledge terminated there was a
peculiar arrangement of rock which had resulted in the formation of a
small square hole with nothing but sky to be seen on the further side.
Under this hole there was a gap in the ledge of about three feet, with
a drop of about fifteen feet into a dark pit beneath. To cross the
gap it was necessary to lie down flat upon the ledge on the one side
with face to the rock, stretch your feet to the rock on the other,
your body thus spanning the gap, then draw yourself through the hole
and gradually swing yourself into an upright position by the help of
the rope and the handholds in the further wall of rock. It looked a
more trying operation than it actually was because one had to turn
somewhat sharply on emerging from the hole in order to stand on a
somewhat slender ledge. But there is practically no danger; when one
is firmly held on the rope by guides, whose caution and
resourcefulness, here as elsewhere, were admirable, and have fully
justified the confidence which I have always reposed in their ability.
"Having, with mutual assistance, all three surmounted this difficulty
and having advanced a little further down the side of the tower, we
perceived a way into the chimney already referred to, about sixty feet
above its base. Here it was obvious that the only way of getting down
was to rope off. Amongst other paraphernalia we had brought with us an
extra short piece of rope which would serve as a loop. It was now
slung around a firm piece of rock, which was rendered more adaptable
to the purpose by a little hammering, while through the loop was
passed a second rope about 120 feet long. This being doubled still
gave us the required length.
"I went down first, being held besides on another rope, so that no
serious mishap could have overtaken me. For the first forty feet there
were practically no footholds to be found, a fact for which we were
prepared; but fortunately the rock was good--indeed, this is the only
bit of firm rock on the mountain--and I got safely down and out of the
chimney, after swinging once or twice like a bundle of goods, without
any worse experience than having my clothing a little torn and with
the feeling that there might be a permanent groove around the centre
of my body.
"Fuez descended next and took a photograph of Aemmer sitting at the
top. As Aemmer was descending he disturbed a small stone which danced
down with great force and, to Fuez's chagrin, cut off about twenty
feet from the lower end of his fine manilla rope. We then pulled down
the rope, but of course, had to leave behind the loop, which may be
serviceable to some other party."