As I look back from the plain near Radnor there are an oil pipe, buried in the atmosphere con- densing against the mist. On the mist, themselves there was condensation in placeless mists above the high parts, lending charm and mystery to the high peaks. They melted away into the glory of the heavens and God, but that sky came there was revealed here as the tiny yellow spots in the rolling and slowly rising mists. And now I can seeing the arid, sun-baked plains, the evidence of aridity and poor looting lands. Along the small stream courses are some small crops! Truly here at no one would dream of the majesty immediately to the west, hidden in the distant mist. Adieu. East of Calgary the country is as level as a stone. Table. Light snow everywhere. The glare is hard to Calgary is of about 42 years old, and now a town of 75,000 people. The greatest building in the Pal- liser Hotel of the C.P.R. -- the upriser face this country. All the afternoon we see only the flat plains and the grain fields with here and there bunches of