1

with Dr. W. Saunders I have already spoken elsewhere; and when I returned to Toronto I found in my friend Professor J. Mavor a living encyclopædia of Canadian economics. To every question which I would ask him the reply appeared at once in the shape of statistical tables and economical works taken from the shelves of his library, and opened at the proper page, or in the shape of a heap of historical documents, old and new. However, it is not my intention to utilise now more than a trifle of the valuable materials which were put at my disposal. I simply intend to mention some of the points which chiefly occupied my thoughts during that most instructive and delightful journey.

As I was crossing Canada from east to west, travelling in succession through the woody regions of West Quebec and East Ontario, through the rocky and hilly mining region situated in the north of the great lakes, over the vast prairies, and finally across the highlands and the plateaus of the Pacific border, I was simply amazed at finding such a resemblance between the geographical features of these successive regions and the features, once familiar to me, which are met with in the Old World in crossing it from west to east in about the same latitude. The traveller who would land in Russia on the coast of the Baltic Sea, and proceed eastwards through Northern Middle Russia, across the hilly and mining regions of the middle Urals, over the vast prairies and plains of Southern Siberia, and finally across the highlands and the plateau in Eastern Siberia, would meet with exactly the same types of geographical regions, in the very same succession, as those which he meets with in crossing North America under the fiftieth degree of latitude, but in the opposite direction.

In the Eastern States of America, which would correspond under this view to Western Europe-both facing the Atlantic and both representing the main seat of our present civilisation-the analogy may be less apparent. But the woody tracts of Eastern Canada, which have been compared more than once to the woody tracts of Northern Middle Russia, are really the counterpart of that portion of Europe. Next come the hilly, rocky, and forest-clothed mining regions which rise in Canada in the north of Lake Superior, and they remind me in many respects of the Urals, which, by the way, are not the narrow worm-like chain of mountains that is traced on our small-scale maps, but represent a wide expansion of ravinated plateaus of a moderate height and chains of hills, dotted with gold, copper, and iron mines. They also have in the south a great interior sea, the Caspian.

Proceeding further westwards through Canada, we entered, all of a sudden at Winnipeg, on the boundless low prairies of Manitoba; and here the illusion was complete. I might as well believe myself entering the low black-earth' prairies of South Tobolsk at the

1 Nineteenth Century, November 1897.

foot of the Urals. Same general aspect, same soil, same desiccating lakes, same character of climate, same position with regard to the highlands, and, very probably, same lacustrine origin in both cases.

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Further on, as the train rolled westwards, and, after having gently climbed over an escarpment, crossed the higher, sub-arid rolling prairie '-we should call it Steppe in Siberia-I could easily imagine myself amidst the higher level Steppes which the Siberian railway enters beyond Tomsk. The altitude of these Steppes in the two continents, the escarpments which separate them from the lower terrace, the general aspect of both the surface and the vegetation, all these are wonderfully similar; while the small East Siberian towns of Kainsk, Achinsk, and Krasnoyarsk could be described as sister-growths to Medicine Hat, Calgary, and Regina, were it not for the Americanised aspects of the Canadian towns. The barren lands' in the far north of Canada, which are similar in all respects to the sub-tundras and tundras of Siberia, and the deserts of the American plateau in the south, which correspond to the deserts of Mongolia, complete the analogy.

Finally comes the belt of parallel mountain ranges-the Rocky Mountains, the Selkirks, the Golden Range, and the Coast Range, with elevated plateaus lodged between them; and here again the analogy with the East Asian plateau and the parallel ranges of mountains which rise above its surface is nearly complete. The Siberian highlands are wider in the same latitude, and the stretches of high plateaus are broader than in Canada; but the similarity of the general aspect is such that, for instance, at Okanagan I really felt as if I were amidst the Transbaikalian Steppes, although the American ranges—namely, the Rocky Mountains-are of a more recent origin than the mountains bordering the East Siberian plateau. Same altitude of the plateau, same dry climate, same general aspect, same surface structure, and same character of erosion in geologically recent periods.

Fortuitous coincidences would not do to explain such a similarity of structure. It was known long since that there are certain analogies in the main outlines of the two great continental masses situated in the western and the eastern hemispheres. It now appears that the analogies in the surface-structure-in the orography-of North America and Eurasia are even more striking than the resemblances in their outlines. In fact, the dominant feature in the structure of North America is an elongated belt of highlands-plateaus and parallel mountain ranges-which runs in a north-western direction from Mexico to Alaska, gradually decreasing in height and in width as it enters higher latitudes. The Rocky Mountains fringe it along its eastern border; and at the foot of these mountains stretches an immense continental plain, divided into two, or rather three, distinct

terraces, which fills up the angular space between the great plateau and the Appalachian system of parallel chains.

The same structure is found in Asia. Only Asia and America are, so to say, the positive and the negative of each other—the right hand and the left hand. In Asia, too, a huge upheaval, made up of plateaus and highlands, diminishing in height and width as it enters higher latitudes, stretches from the Himalayas to the Chukchi peninsula to meet by its narrow end the narrow end of the American plateau. This backbone of Asia occupies, however, the eastern portion of the continent instead of the western portion, and it runs north-eastwards instead of north-westwards. A girdle of high mountains, intersected by gigantic trenches (Tian Shan, Altai, Sayan, &c.), fringes the plateau along its continental border, thus corresponding to the Rocky Mountains; and an immense continental plain, also disposed in two or three distinct terraces, occupies the wide angular space between the great plateau and another succession of highlands which run through Persia, Caucasia, Asia Minor and the Balkan peninsula. The main lines of orographic structure are thus remarkably analogous. Regions of similar structure succeed each other in the same order, but in an opposite sense.

One difference must, however, be noted. In America, the highlands reach directly the coasts of the Pacific Ocean: there are no plains between the plateau and the coast; while in Asia we have, in the Amur region and Manchuria, a wide expansion of plains and lowlands (intersected by several parallel chains of mountains) which spreads between the outer border of the plateau and the coast of the Pacific. It is only in a higher latitude, on the coast of the Sea of Okhotsk, that the plateau faces directly the great ocean as it faces it at Vancouver. The mountain-building activity to which both the rows of islands bordering the Pacific coast of America and the coast ranges in Asia are due must have been greater in middle Asia, or it began at an earlier date, so as to add to the Asiatic continent the plains and the very young lowlands of the lower Sungari and the lower Amur, a counterpart of which we do not find in America. It must be remembered, however, that perfect similitude is never found in Nature. Analogies are all that we may expect to discover.

The Pacific Ocean thus appears encircled on both sides by two huge masses of plateaus, which assume in their outlines, and in the disposition of their outward slopes, very much the same character. The growth of these two very old continents proceeded chiefly on their outward slopes, so as to produce a repetition, in the same order, of the same geographical features. We must consequently infer that our globe is not an incoherent mass of plateaus, mountain, and plains, patched together in a haphazard way. Some force, quite general in its character, and consequently telluric, if not cosmic-a force which acted at an angle to the present axis of rotation of the earth-has

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directed the growth of the mainland masses in the old and the new world. For ages it has acted symmetrically on both sides of the two chief plateaus of the globe; and through all vicissitudes of local contractions, upheavals, and depressions, it has resulted in producing a remarkably symmetric structure on the two sides of the abysses of the Pacific Ocean.

What a variety of landscapes, and what a number of distinct geographical regions are embodied in Canada, is already evident from what has just been said. The maritime provinces of the Atlantic border; the woody regions of the St. Lawrence river, with their extremely interesting French population, which maintains its language and national features amidst quite different surroundings; the settled and cultivated hills and plains of Ontario, with their thoroughly British population, and the Ontario 'peninsula,' which penetrates between the lakes Huron and Erie as far south as the latitude of Rome, and supplies Canada with southern fruit; the mining region of the Laurentian plateau in West Ontario; the boundless prairies, with their Indian population, slowly dying out as a mute reproach to our present civilisation; the plateau and the coast ranges, with their infinite variety of valleys and cañons, ragged peaks and elevated plateaus-such are, then, the main geographical divisions of that immense country which covers nearly one-half of the North-American continent. And then come: the great peninsula of Labrador—the Scandinavia of America; the 'barren lands' of the far north, the fur emporium of the North-west; and the Yukon district, which now spreads the gold fever in both hemispheres. Each of them is a world in itself; each has its history, full of dramatic events; each offers certain peculiarities in the character of its population, which are apparent even on a cursory inspection. Each of them is full of interest. However, of all these regions one interested me more than the others, and to it I will devote the following pages. I mean Manitoba and the North-west Territories. It is quite young yet: twenty-seven years ago it was almost unknown to geographers. It is full of potentialities, and, for me at least, there was a certain charm in studying a part of the world where men can still find a relatively free soil.2

2 Of many excellent books on Canada let me name some. First of all, the admirable description of Elisée Reclus, in his Géographie Universelle (English translation by Mr. Keane), and the excellent Handbook of Canada,' compiled by the best Canadian authorities upon each separate subject for the British Association (Toronto, 1897); G. R. Parkin's The Great Dominion,' London, 1895 ; J. G. Bourinot's 'Canada,” in the Story of the Nations' Series, London, 1897; Professor R. Wallace's Report on Agricultural Resources of Canada,' 1894; Frédéric Gerbie's Le Canada et l'émigration française, 6th edition, Québec, 1884; An Official Handbook of Information relating to the Dominion of Canada,' published by the Department of Interior, Ottawa, 1897; A. O. Legge's 'Sunny Manitoba,' London, 1893; John Macoun's Manitoba and the Great North-west,' London, 1883; Professor Bryce's' Manitoba,' London, 1882; and a very considerable amount of excellent official publications (Geological Survey, Local Boards of Trade, Provincial Mining Administrations, and so on).

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Our train had left Winnipeg, 'the capital of the prairies,' in the afternoon. We had dashed for an hour, full speed, in electrical tramcars, along the streets of the big and decidedly nice-looking prairie city, which had grown up with American rapidity in less than twenty-five years. Then we parted with our friends; the engine-bell began to ring as the train rolled heavily in the limits of the city, and all of a sudden we had entered the prairies. A straight line on the horizon, another straight line behind us, marked by the railway metals, which run over a ground so level that the last elevator of Winnipeg could be seen miles behind. A fat black-earth,' as our peasants would say, and no trees or shrubs for miles round. Only a glorious sunset to admire, such as I had not seen since I was last in a South Russian steppe. How monotonous!' was soon remarked by my West European friends, while I thought to myself: 'What an infinite variety of life in these Steppes!' The poetry of the Steppe is an unknown chapter to the West European, even to the middle Russian. It would be vainly sought for in most geographical works; one finds it only in the poetry of Koltsoff, in the novels of Oertel, in the soul of the man who was born in the Steppes. One must have lived in the Steppes, rambled over them on horseback about and after sunset, inhaled the perfume of the mowed grasses, spent the night in the open air, crossed the boundless spaces in sledges with galloping horses, to realise and to feel the beauty of the Steppes. He who was born in such surroundings feels homesick elsewhere; mountain valleys oppress him, make him feel as a bird in a cage.

We passed Brandon at night, seeing nothing of the busy villages of that populated district of Manitoba, and next morning we were already in the so-called sub-arid region. A few big farms belonging to big companies, a few small farms lost amidst the boundless rolling prairies, and insignificant market-towns, or administrative centres, such as Regina, was all that we saw from the train till we came, after a run of nearly 800 miles, to Calgary, in sight of the Rocky Mountains. Where was, then, the population of the prairies, of which we had heard so much?

The fact is that although Manitoba and the North-west Territories are often spoken of as a whole, containing so many hundred millions of acres fit for agriculture, the great continental plain covered by these provinces is not uniform at all. It consists of at least three distinct regions, which must be strictly separated in the very interests of colonisation. Dr. G. Dawson indicates their limits with his habitual lucidity. The most fertile and the easiest cultivable part of the great plain is its lowest, south-eastern portion, i.e. the valley of the Red River. It runs from the United States border (North Dakota) to the lakes Manitoba and Winnipeg, and represents the bottom of a glacial or post-glacial lake, now desiccated, to which American geologists gave the name of 'Lake Agassiz.' It is only eight hundred feet