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When the Steel Went Through
Calgary


CALGARY, at the time of my arrival, was in much the same stage of development as Medicine Hat; a town in the making, consisting almost entirely of tents. These were all east of the Elbow River — a tributary of the Bow — and close to the C.P.R. road-bed. West of the Elbow, and bordering on it, were the Mounted Police barracks; and the stores of I. G. Baker & Company — a large American trading company. The Hudson's Bay Company had a small post east of the Elbow near its junction with the Bow.

Burpee's camp was located alongside the storehouse then being used for supplies for engineers' camps, in charge of Colvin, a former Mounted Policeman. It was about three-quarters of a mile south of the C.P.R. roadbed, on the route between Calgary and MacLeod known as the MacLeod trail; and near the present site of the Riverside Iron Works. The office staff consisted of two young Welshmen, one of whom was Jack Griffith. He was Burpee's chief office assistant, and was in charge of the camp. The name of the other was Walters. There was also the cook, and the teamster who looked after Burpee's team.

My work at this camp was, for the most part, helping to prepare the monthly estimates of work done by the contractors. But I was not many days on this job, for Doane and Thompson arrived soon after I did; and another tent was set up in which I resumed my former position with them. We had plans and bills of material to make for the bridges to be built ahead of the track-laying, and this work took up most of our time.

Close to the camp there resided a homesteader named Carney. I visited him one evening and had an interesting talk with him. His homestead was, in after years, acquired by the City of Calgary, and became the city cemetery.

Track-laying was making rapid progress. Some five miles were laid in one day on a stretch about ten miles east of Calgary. This was considered a record for the time; and perhaps for all time in track-laying done entirely by manual labour.

I cannot give the exact date on which the track reached Calgary; but it was in the early part of August, 1883. The laying of the track to this point completed the contract of Langdon & Shepard, an American firm which had the contract to build the railway across the plains to Calgary. The stations Langdon, and Shepard — the last two before reaching Calgary — were so named by the C.P.R. in honour of the members of that firm.

The construction of the Railway was being continued by sub-contractors under the direction of the North American Construction Company.

It had been the expectation of those who had set up tents east of the Elbow, on Section 14, that the station would be located there. But the C.P.R. had other plans in view. Through its subsidiary, the Canada North West Land Company, it had a town-site of its own to develop, about a mile farther west on Section 15. On this section a telegraph office was located, and headquarters established.

Our camp on the MacLeod trail was moved there too, and made part, as before, with Curran's camp.

It would seem that by this time Lougheed had lost faith in Medicine Hat, for he also arrived on the scene, and again took up his quarters with us. So the camp consisted of very much the same personnel as at Medicine Hat, including of course, George.

Quite a large portion of the area in which this camp was situated, was used as a material yard; and also for a large warehouse and store for camp supplies, such as provisions, clothing, blankets, buffalo-robes, etc.; everything, in fact, that might possibly be needed. In length, this area extended approximately from the site of the present station to about the site of the present Robin Hood Mills; and in breadth it reached from the C.P.R. track north to about the rear of what is now the site of that well-patronized institution, the Alberta Government Liquor Store.

The laying out of the sidings to serve the material yard was my first work after moving from the MacLeod trail. The ground was slightly low-lying, and was a rich hay meadow. The grass was so long that the stakes with which I started to lay out these sidings could not be seen. So I had to hunt up longer stakes — no easy matter, for wood with which to make stakes was none too plentiful there at the time.

The stock of material in the yard was practically all imported: timber from the States; and steel rails from the Krupp works in Germany. Some of these rails are still in use on the siding which serves the Robin Hood Mills, and probably also on other sidings in that vicinity. They may be recognized by the words: "KRUPP C.P.R. STEEL. 1883." which are moulded on them in relief.

It was about this time that The Calgary Weekly Herald made its bow to the public. The proprietors, Armour and Braden, set up their printing press in a tent, a short distance from the left bank of the Elbow, south of the railway. I well remember seeing the press at work. And I bought a copy of the first issue of the paper.

The company had decided to make a divisional point at the 14th siding — numbering from Medicine Hat. This siding was about sixty miles east of Calgary, and bordered on the Blackfoot Indian Reserve.

The laying out and superintending the construction of a round-house and turntable there, with the necessary side tracks, devolved on me, with Thomson as my assistant. So we gathered together a small camp outfit, consisting of tent and bedding and provisions for the few days we had calculated it would take us to do the preliminary work. These we loaded on a flat-car of a train ready to start, and took our places on the car beside our outfit. We had quite a long time to wait before the train actually started, as the conductor was waiting for orders. Waiting for orders was the usual answer given by the conductor of a construction train which might be waiting — for no apparent reason — at some siding, when anyone ventured to remark: "What are we waiting here for?"

We reached our destination all right, but my mind is a blank on the greater part of what we did there. A few incidents, however, I still clearly remember. We pitched our tent on the north side of the track, and then proceeded to carry in the box containing our provisions. It was rather heavy for one to carry, so we both took hold. But just as we were nearing the tent one of us — I don't remember which — stumbled on a badger or gopher hole, and down dropped the box, scattering the contents on the prairie. However, after we had picked everything up, we got comfortably settled in our tent.

Whether it was at our noon or our evening meal, I can't now say; but a number of Indians gathered around us at one or the other. They were quite friendly; in fact, too friendly, for they made it very clear by their expressive sign language, that they wanted to share in our feast. But this was met by a prompt refusal. To have given them any encouragement would most likely have resulted in our supplies giving out before we had completed our work. Still they hung around for a while.

One of them — in a gorgeous Hudson's Bay blanket — lay outside in the lee of our tent, all night, close against the wall. This happened to be the side of the tent where I slept; so there was nothing between us but the canvas. Thomson had the misfortune to be hard of hearing; but on this occasion he had the advantage over me, for he was able to sleep soundly without being disturbed by any outside noises. But I passed a restless night; and seemed to sleep with one ear open, for I could hear the rustling of the canvas as the Indian lying outside turned himself over from time to time. However, nothing untoward happened; we got busy with our work the next day, and in a few days more we had everything ready for the carpenters to commence work on the round-house. We then returned to Calgary.

The construction of this round-house was not done by contract, but by a crew of carpenters employed by the company, under the superintendence of Horace Haney. We had many goings and comings during its construction; but as the carpenters had a good camp established, we didn't have to take a tent with us, but only our blankets. We had our meals at their camp; and always found a place there in which to sleep. Blankets, I may here note, formed our essential baggage on all trips of this kind when we expected to be away from our own quarters overnight.

These carpenters were a fine set of men, and I thoroughly enjoyed the evenings I spent with them. Some had musical instruments, and many of them were good singers; there were good story-tellers among them too. So they could furnish the talent to make a pleasant evening.

It was at this siding that I first met the Venerable Archdeacon Tims, now the highly respected Chaplain of the Southern Alberta Pioneers' and Old Timers' Association. He was then a Church of England Missionary among the Blackfoot Indians. I happened to be there on a Sunday when he held a service in the station building which had just been completed; and I attended that service along with my friends the carpenters.

A year, or possibly two years after the establishment of this divisional point, it was given the name of "Gleichen" by the C.P.R. directorate, after a German Count of that name who had played a prominent part in financing the company. But the pronunciation of the name from the start was, and still is "Gleesh'n" — a wide departure from the pronunciation of the German name, "Gleichen". This shows the futility of giving a foreign name to any place, with the expectation that its proper pronunciation will be preserved, particularly among people who have never heard the name pronounced as it was intended it should be.

Construction of the railway from Calgary westward had been proceeding rapidly, and by the time the carpenters had finished work on the Gleichen round-house, the track had about reached Canmore — the next projected divisional point. So they were moved there to build another round-house on the same plan as the one at Gleichen; and Thomson and I had the work of laying out and superintending the construction of this one too.

On our first trip to the mountains in connection with this work, we stayed a night with Odell — one of the division engineers. He, however, was about to move camp. So the next day we took up our quarters — as we had done at Gleichen — at the carpenters' camp.

One Sunday, when there, we climbed the mountain lying directly opposite the round-house, to the north. It was not a very difficult one to climb; but as it was our first attempt at mountaineering, we felt we could rightly pat ourselves on the back at having accomplished what we considered, at the time, to be quite a feat.

At our camp at Calgary, we not infrequently had visitors of note; and among these I clearly remember meeting Father Lacombe, pioneer Catholic Missionary; and Major Rogers of Roger's Pass fame, both of whom paid a visit at the same time. The latter had finished his exploratory surveys for the railway company, and was on his way east.

Among other pioneers much spoken of in those days were the Rev. John McDougall, Methodist Missionary; and his brother David who was a trader with the Stoney Indians. Both lived at Morley, some forty miles west of Calgary. I did not happen to meet them at the time I was camped at Calgary, but came to know them in after years. David had the reputation of being a particularly tall story-teller.

I never heard him tell any of the stories with which he was credited; but according to these he must have rivalled in fantasy even the famous Baron Munchausen.

Be that as it may, the engineers who were camped near Morley during the construction of the railway through that district, spoke highly of both him and Mrs. McDougall, in appreciation of their hospitality.

The location of the railway through the mountains was being carried on well ahead of construction by different surveying parties under the direction of A. L. Hogg, the Chief Locating Engineer.

Shaw was the engineer in charge of one of these parties. He had been on location on the prairies, and had located the line to Calgary the year before; and because of his prairie experience, was dubbed by Major Rogers — rather sarcastically — the "Prairie Gopher".

But he soon showed Rogers that a Prairie Gopher could be just as expert in the mountains as on the prairies. There was a mountain, then known as Tunnel Mountain — which still bears that name — through the side of which it had been projected to drive a tunnel. But Shaw found a way to avoid a tunnel by locating the railway through a pass to the north of this mountain. So, although the name "Tunnel Mountain" is still given to it, it lacks the tunnel.

Tunnel Mountain is some eighty miles west of Calgary, and now forms one of the attractive features of Banff — a town not in existence at the time the railway was being built; nor, as far as I know, was there even one projected there.

I did not know Shaw then, but it was he himself who told me, many years later, of his experiences on location surveys, and of the nickname which Rogers had given him.

Continuing his surveys up the Bow River, Shaw ran a trial line to the Howse Pass to determine whether this would be a better route for the railway to follow than the one projected by way of the Kicking Horse Pass.

While engaged on this survey, the winter closed in on him, and he and his party had a long and arduous time digging their way through deep snow back to the End of Track, which was then at what was long known as Laggan, but is now called Lake Louise. He, however, had obtained sufficient information to decide against adopting the Howse Pass route.

Between occasional trips to Canmore, our work in the office at Calgary was varied, but for the most part consisted in preparing plans for the abutments and piers for steel bridges to take the place of the temporary pile bridges which had been erected on the first three crossings of the Bow River; and the one over the Elbow River.

This was before the age of concrete; and suitable stone for masonry was not available; so it was decided to build these piers and abutments of timber on pile foundations.

As the winter drew near, trips to Canmore lost much of their attraction. It was out of the question to ride outside in the cold on a flat-car. So we had to take to the caboose and it was generally packed — standing room only.

It was on one of these trips that I first met Major Walker, one of the pioneers of the day, better known in after years in Calgary as "the Colonel". He and I had got wedged together in a corner of the caboose; and I well remember how his tall figure towered above me as we endeavoured, in our strained positions, to carry on a conversation.

That, I think, would be the last trip of the kind that Thomson made with me; for he left about that time to finish his course at the Toronto School of Applied Science.

Later in the year, Doane and I had a rather chilly experience. We had gone up to the 3rd Crossing of the Bow to lay out the position of the abutments and pier for the steel bridge to be erected there. This crossing is a few miles west of the station now called Cochrane. After we had finished our work, we had to wait there two days before we could get a train back to Calgary; and it was 30 below zero. Fortunately, however, we found refuge in the section-house which had but recently been built, and was occupied by the section-men. We were most hospitably entertained. We had our own blankets, and spread them on the floor of the dining-room at nights. But our sleep was very broken, for we never knew when a train might come along so had to be continually on the watch. But our nightmare ended when a train did finally arrive and took us back to Calgary.

By this time work on the construction of the railway was being closed down for the winter; and contractors, engineers, and other officials were leaving for the East. Our headquarters' camp was broken up, and Curran and his staff were moved to Winnipeg. Holt too, went to Winnipeg; and Doane left for his home in Meadville, Pennsylvania. So I was the only engineer of our party remaining in Calgary.

My duties were to look after the building of the piers and abutments for the steel bridges, during the winter. This work was being done by the company's own crew of carpenters — and other necessary labour — under Haney's direction. There was placed at his disposal for this work, a work-train composed of an engine and a track pile driver, together with a flat-car or two, and a boarding-car. This work-train was the only train that ran west of Calgary that winter.

Langham was chief clerk on this work; he made out the payrolls and statements of cost. Howard Douglas, who had been in charge of the material yard during the summer and fall, also remained on the job.

I was furnished with a track velocipede for getting to the different crossings of the Bow where the work might be in progress. It was quite a stiff pull to the 3rd crossing — some twenty-three miles — all up grade, and often against a strong head wind; but I came sailing back in good style. Sometimes I got a ride to that crossing on Haney's engine, when it happened to be taking material there. But the velocipede was my stand-by.

Lougheed, for a time, had taken up his abode with me in my tent. One day he went to Medicine Hat to attend court, and it so happened that when he was there a strike of the locomotive engineers took place. This put a stop, for the time being, to the running of trains between Winnipeg and Calgary. So Lougheed could not get back to Calgary by train. News, however, reached Calgary that he and some others were pumping their way back on a hand-car.

The night following this report, I was wakened from a sound sleep by Lougheed as he came crawling into our tent. Between many moanings and groanings, he gave me his account of this trip. He and his party had managed to get as far as Shepard with the hand-car, but a sleet storm they encountered there had made the track so slippery, with the sleet freezing to the rails, that they could not get the car to go any farther. They therefore abandoned it, and walked the rest of the way — some eight or ten miles — to Calgary.

It was several days before he was able to straighten out the bend in his back, which he had got through pumping the hand-car.

Just how long I stayed in this tent I don't remember, but at some time during the winter I got an invitation from Langham to stay with him in a small shack, close by, which he occupied as his office and sleeping-quarters. For meals, he and I went to the Royal Hotel which had been moved from Medicine Hat by the proprietor, Molton, to a site east of the Elbow, near the site of the present east Calgary fire hall.

One rather cold morning, as we were walking along the track to breakfast at this palatial hotel, we faced a bitter east wind. We had enough to do to keep ourselves warm, so we were not doing much talking, until one of us — I don't remember which — turned to the other and abruptly asked:

"How's my nose?"

"It's frozen," was the prompt but unmistakable answer.

"So is yours," was the equally unmistakable retort, shot back.

Then we each picked up a handful of snow, with which we gave our noses a good rubbing. This seemed to prove effective; and we proceeded on our way to breakfast.

One morning, about this time, while we were at breakfast at this hotel, we were surprised by the arrival of Shaw and his party which we had last heard of as being snowed up in the Howse Pass. They had managed to dig themselves out and had got to the End of Track, as already noted; but by the time they got there no trains were running to take them any farther. Fortunately Bender, who was in charge of the company's transport teams, was wintering there with his equipment; and he drove the party to Calgary in sleighs.

Their tattered and odd-looking garb showed what they had come through; some of them even had gunnysacks wrapped about their feet. But I had no opportunity to have any conversation with them, for they left after breakfast for the East, by the first train they could get. Shaw, as I have already mentioned, I met many years afterwards, and I told him then that when I first saw him he had gunnysacks on his feet. "Yes," he said, "that's right."

Matthew Neilson was Shaw's transitman. I did not meet him then, but in after years he was my Chief, and I became intimately associated with him, not only professionally, but socially. I got many stories from him of his experiences on Shaw's party when locating the line on the prairie. From one of these stories, the Blackfoot Indians would appear to have their own peculiar sense of humour. They pulled up the engineers' stakes, and the story goes that they reported to the Indian agent that there was a band of crazy white men walking to the mountains, and driving stakes in the ground as they went, so as to find their way back. So the Indians thought they would have the joke on these whites by pulling up the stakes that marked their trail.

On the completion of the piers and abutments for the various bridges, the carpenters were paid off and the crew disbanded.

Langham then went to Winnipeg. But I still remained in possession of the shack, waiting for orders from Holt. I got one of the carpenters who had worked on these bridges to take the bunk vacated by Langham. Thus I still had company in the shack.

The erection of the steel bridge at the first crossing of the Bow had been started as soon as the pier and abutments were completed. This work was being done by an American bridge company, the name of which I don't remember now.

My duties in this connection were very light: simply to show the superintendent in charge the points which I had already marked for the bed-plates. But I kept in close touch with the work as it progressed, and so got well initiated in the methods of erection there employed.

The first time that I tried walking on the top chord — quite a height above the river — I was brought to a stop by what seemed an impassable barrier. This was the end of a rope lying on the chord. It was quite an ordinary rope, but it hypnotized me so that it looked like a huge log. I felt I could not lift my foot to step over it. I felt more like getting down on my hands and knees and crawling. But I did not want to show the white feather before a lot of nimble-footed bridge men. So I made a supreme effort and with apparent calmness, raised my foot and stepped over it. The charm was thus broken; and what a relief this was.

In later years I became able to walk on much narrower spaces at much more dizzy heights, without a qualm.

While on the subject of this bridge, I must mention two men, Hunter, and Grant, whose job it was to gather large stones on the river bottom for riprapping the pier. They were furnished with a team and a stone-boat which they loaded with stones, and then unloaded it on the ice around the pier. I had many conversations with them. They both became permanent residents of Calgary. Hunter carried on his trade as a baker, and Grant for many years drove the Hudson's Bay Company's delivery rig.

By the end of 1883, or early in 1884, the C.P.R. had its town-site surveyed and was ready to start selling lots. Major John Stewart, who owned that portion of the north-west quarter of Section 14 lying east of the Elbow, had had his town-site surveyed too, and had already held a sale of lots. As it was on his town-site that most of the tents and small buildings had been located, he felt confident of holding them there. But his confidence in this led him to ask too high a price for his lots, in the opinion of the prospective purchasers. So the sale was not a success.

Shortly afterwards, McTavish, the C.P.R. land commissioner, accompanied by Holt, arrived from Winnipeg to hold a sale of the company's lots. Holt looked me up and in the course of conversation he asked me if I intended to buy any lots. I was not at all keen to venture on any real estate speculation; I still had in mind the disastrous results of the collapse of the Winnipeg boom. However, I attended the sale, with Holt.

I don't remember where this sale was held, but I well remember being impressed with the fair way in which it was conducted. The company, for some time previous, had been taking applications to purchase, and each applicant had been given an identifying number according to the order of his application.

At the sale, the applicant who was the first to apply was called upon to mark with pencil — on a plan of the town-site tacked to a wall — the lots he desired to purchase. The first applicant happened to be John Glen, pioneer settler at Fish Creek, some ten miles south of Calgary. I can see him yet as he stepped forward and marked the corner lots on what is now Centre Street and 9th Avenue East.

In due course Holt, who also was an applicant, was called upon to show his choice; and he did this by marking with one sweep of the pencil all the lots on the north side of 8th Avenue between Centre Street and 1st Street East. When he had done this, he said to me that I could have two of these lots if I wished. I fully appreciated his kind offer, and seeing he showed such confidence in Calgary real estate as an investment, I concluded I could not do better than follow his example. So I accepted, and thus became the owner of the two lots on 8th Avenue East on which the Thomson Block is now built.

Objection, however, was said to have been raised by the higher officials of the company to Holt's taking part in the purchase of lots. Be that as it may, he relinquished his claim on the lots he had chosen. But no objection was raised against my purchasing; and I was allowed to retain the two lots he had offered to me.

The terms of sale were most reasonable: $300 for inside lots and $450 for a corner lot. One-third of the price was payable on signing the agreement of sale; and the balance in two annual instalments with interest at 6 per cent. The company further undertook to give a rebate of 50 per cent on all payments, provided a building was erected on the lots and occupied before a specified date in March.

W. T. Ramsay was the company's agent handling the sale. He had an office in a car on a siding near the station, and, following the public sale, continued selling lots to any purchaser who came along.

Then began an exodus from east of the Elbow which was certainly unique. For not only was it an exodus of people, but of tents, buildings and shacks moving to the C.P.R. town-site. Although the waters of the Elbow did not part in two to let them cross on dry land, they did what amounted to the same thing — they froze. So the crossing was made on sleds, on the ice, and the buildings then hauled to their new sites.

One of the first buildings to be moved was James Bannerman's flour and feed store. This building was the post office, and Bannerman was the postmaster. The moving of the post office was said to have been done by the C.P.R., so as to stimulate the sale of lots on its town-site. It was moved to a lot adjoining my lots; so it really looked as if things were coming my way.

Moving of buildings was not, however, the only activity at that time. The erection of new buildings was also being carried on briskly. A hotel was built on 9th Avenue almost opposite the site of the present Palliser Hotel. It was called, I think, the Alberta House. It was close to my shack, so I went there for my meals.

The dining-room of this hotel was simply an adjunct with log walls and a canvas roof, more fitted to be called a refrigerator than a dining-room. It was certainly a chilly breakfast that one got there.

One of the delicacies supposed to be served for breakfast was apple sauce. A glass bowl containing this sauce, was a permanent feature of the dining table, and boarders were supposed to help themselves. But it was impossible to put a spoon into it; it was frozen hard. So we passed it by. Still, we made out on the whole pretty well.

One of the star boarders at this hotel with whom I got intimately acquainted, was S. A. Ramsay who in after years became an alderman of the City of Calgary; and ended up as mayor. His name must not be confused with that of W. T. Ramsay, the C.P.R. town-site agent already mentioned.

It was about this time that I first met George Murdoch who, when the Town of Calgary was incorporated shortly afterwards, became Calgary's first Mayor; and Dr. N. J. Lindsay and I. S. Freeze who became members of the first Council. James Reilly — "the people's James", as he was called — was one of Calgary's pioneer citizens whom I also met. He too eventually became Mayor.

When stating where my own lots and others I have mentioned were located, I used the present names of the avenues and streets, in order that the location of these lots could be readily visualized. But these names were quite unknown when the C.P.R. town-site was laid out, and for many years afterwards. The names chosen by the company for the streets and avenues may therefore be of some historic interest. The avenue adjoining the north side of the railway right of way was named Atlantic Avenue; and the one adjoining the south side of the right of way was named Pacific Avenue; names well chosen to epitomize the story of the C.P.R. Other avenues and streets were named after the directors and other officials of the company.

The following tabulation shows the original names of some of the avenues and streets, together with the names by which they are now known.

Among the new arrivals who were almost daily coming to Calgary at that time, was a young man named A. D. Rankin. He came to see me at my shack, with a view to getting me to build a store on my lots, according to a sketch plan he had made. He was willing to rent a building of that kind as a dry goods store. He had, he said, been employed in the dry goods department of the Hudson's Bay Company's store at Winnipeg, and intended starting in business for himself at Calgary.

After discussing with him the pros and cons of his proposal, I agreed to erect the building and lease it to him at the rental he had offered to pay. I bought the lumber from S. J. Hogg, a well-known lumber dealer, who became one of the members of the first Town Council. I got Haney to do the work — he had finished his work for the C.P.R. by that time — and the building was completed and occupied within the time limit set by the C.P.R. land department entitling me to the 50 per cent rebate on the price of the lots. So I had good reason to feel pleased that my speculation gave promise of turning out all right.

Rankin took in with him as partner Alexander Allan who also had been employed along with him in Winnipeg by the Hudson's Bay Company. Their business was carried on under the firm name of Rankin and Allan.

One night, after my carpenter companion and I had gone to bed, we were roused by a violent thumping on the door and a voice demanding with authority to know how many were in the shack. The voice further added that it was the police who wanted this information. So we opened up to let them see for themselves, and were confronted by two mounted policemen. The spokesman then told us that a murder had been committed, and that they were searching for the murderer. He asked us if we had seen anyone passing the shack going west that evening. We had heard, we told him, a hand-car going that way, but had not seen it. We could not give them any further information, so they left, with profuse apologies for having disturbed us.

The suspected murderer, a Negro, was caught the next morning in an Indian camp at Shaganappi Point on the Bow River, some two miles west of Calgary.

The victim of the murder was a young man named Adams, who had recently come to Calgary. He was murdered when working alone in the evening in McKelvie's store.

The murder was a most brutal one, and so horrified the people of Calgary that a meeting was immediately called to discuss the question of forming a vigilance committee, after the manner of some western communities in the United States.

I attended that meeting. The chairman was General Strange, a well-known rancher on the Bow River about thirty miles east of Calgary. At one stage of the meeting, a wild-eyed individual who seemed to be against everything and everybody, opened a tirade against the ranch leases. This was a clear hit at the chairman. But General Strange calmly called him to order, telling him that the meeting was being held to discuss the formation of a vigilance committee, not ranch leases.

I don't remember what conclusion the meeting came to; but the necessity for forming a vigilance committee lost its force with the arrival, a few days later, of Colonel MacLeod from Fort MacLeod to try the murder case by a jury.

I attended the trial. Bleeker was the lawyer who prosecuted; and Lougheed looked after the interests of the accused. I. S. Freeze, I remember, was one of the jurymen. The trial was short, and the jury found the accused guilty of murder. Colonel MacLeod then sentenced him to be hanged. Thus the law was enforced without any vigilance committee. And no attempt has since been made to form such a committee.

I was not in Calgary when the murderer was hanged, for before his execution took place I received a telegram from Holt — who was at Winnipeg — telling me in the usual concise telegraphic language, to "go to The Summit and report to Sykes".

The Summit was the name generally used to designate the headquarters which had been established at the End of Track. The track, however, was still a few miles from the actual summit of the Kicking Horse Pass.

So I made haste to carry out instructions, and after arranging with W. T. Ramsay to act as my agent and look after my property, I left Calgary by the first train I could get. It was then spring, for I remember that the gophers were out.


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