We—that is, Christian and Hans Kaufmann (Swiss guides) and myself—left Laggan at 9 a.m. on August 1st and travelled on No. 96 as far as Banff, where Bill Peyto, who was outfitting our party, met us and escorted us up to his house, to wait while the final arrangements were being completed. About noon the cavalcade started, our party consisting of Christian, Hans and myself, Jimmy Wood and Jesse Trot, packers, and seven horses—Jimmy riding on Pet, Peyto's beautiful mare, who was accompanied by her little foal Baby; Jesse on Toby; Grey, for my use; the guides taking it in turns to ride Wilcox, while Cree, Pinto and Buckskin carried the packs. I walked for the first four or five miles, much to Jimmy's astonishment, and he kept inquiring about every half mile if I was not tired, but at last I was obliged to mount, to cross a creek. Soon after four o'clock, we reached the place where our first camp was to be, and which is generally known as Porcupine camp, though that name might apply equally well to any other place where I have camped in the Rockies, as porcupines abound everywhere. Christian and Hans put up the tents and cut boughs for our beds, while Jimmy unsaddled and hobbled the horses, and Jesse made a fire and fetched water in preparation for our evening meal. This over, and everything washed and tidied up, we sat and rested for a while before retiring to bed, the men enjoying their pipes, while I knitted. We fastened the tents well down, all round, with logs and stones, to prevent the
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Canadian Alpine Journal
