would fall asleep on a heaped up
mattress of fir needles and dried juniper leaves. These, as is their
wont, would whisper immemorial secrets to him, so that he might come in
time to be a little more tolerant of our failings and to wonder if it
were altogether fair that the soul of a man should be damned for his
body's needs. He might even think the same about a woman's soul. It
cannot fail to vastly affect an angel's opinions when, instead of
looking down from the sky, he lies on a bed of leaves and looks up at
it. The whole colour and texture of his ideas must be altered. I
believe he would come to feel that religious truths should vary to suit
the needs of humanity, as those needs change, and that religion should
serve men rather than men religion.

"A young god-man said something about this one day in a wheatfield, but
he was reproved by his wincing hearers whose descendants are with us to
this very day."

This conversation has become too philosophical for Swallow, whose ears
are sweetly holden and who shows her wish to change my thought by
single footing whenever we come to a level stretch. Doubtless, she
hopes to draw my attention to her easy and right pleasant gait. If I
owned her we might become great cronies.

On the top of the mountain to which we have come, the leaves on the
deciduous trees seem smaller and about the size of rabbits' ears. On
my way hither, I passed bluebells, ferns, heather, roses, wild cotton,
and painter's brush, the plant which combines colour with heat. From
several thousand feet below comes up to me the bellow of the train's
engine, that makes long hollow echoes among the peaks. A peculiarity
of the north is that the sounds seem only to emphasize the silence and
loneliness. This engine makes an ill-noise, but without the railway,
these mountains must have remained unseen to all except a hard-muscled
and adventurous few. For this reason, we must feel something of the
gratitude of the Chief of the Blackfeet Indians, who, in 1885, because
of the friendly spirit of his tribe towards the builders, was given a
pass ticket over the Canadian Pacific Railway by the President thereof.
The ticket was given him in a carved frame. The letter in which he
acknowledged the courtesy read like this: "I salute you, O Chief, O
great One! I am pleased with railway key opening road free to me. The
chains and rich covering of your name writing; its wonderful power to
open the road show the gr