PAGE ELEVEN THE DAILY BRITISH WHIG, TUESDAY, JUNE 18, 1915. Tie bt by Re Frome BW COIRTESY Ore PR (1) On the British Western Front in France.--A town near our lines without a house left standing, (2) The German Offensive. -- Pilots bring in their reports as to the position of the enemy. (3) Some of the men who stopped the German rush-- wounded but happy. (4) A British dirigible moving along the coast, (5) A huge German gun emplacement which has been IES] captured by the British. fp (6). With the Troops in Mesopotamia--A staff office: reading message dropped from an aeroplane. (7) A British and French soldier bivousced under the top of a motor car in a French wood. (8). A C. P. R. cottage at Lake Louise and Tally Ho on road to Moraine Lake, B.C. a anbs AL a o gpa HEN that colossal "thrust WwW from the Pacific" of which geologists tell us, heaved the Rockies into the pre-historic sky to compete with the already timesworn Selkirks, it was evident that the Thruster--whoever he might be-- wasn't planning a place for picnic "5 the industrious plekand-shovel artists of both the Government and the Can- adian Pacific Railway, most of us would never have heard of Morafue Lake, and noné of us who aren't graduate Alpinists would have seen Today there are a few breath-tak- parties. He dropped the scintillant ying sights reserved for the man of Jewel of Lake Louise into one un- spiked shoes, who wears his heart in reachable cup. scour to the east where Paradise Val: ley now twists its emprmous length . - between the evergreen feet of con He dug out a second i his month, But most of the wonder spots. are mapped and trailed and even carriageroaded so that the lazi est is luckiest, and the lady who tempiuons mountaius. He. threw up icant eves ride, let alone walk, may chetima Range--after the numeral signifying ten--and from 'wthe peaks which men term the Wenk- 1Jog trot right inte paradise on the Indian front seat of a tallyho! It's bard to excursionize at Lake their aloof summits decreed that an Louise, for the reason that you can't: crawl and die, leaving the vast scrap heap that has blocked the valley and - made possible that still 'shining mirror of {he -ciouds which its discoverer fitiingly named Mo rain Lake. Ee (After he had done ail this and a million other wonderful and prank. i bits 'of engineering, the moun: ~ unknown glacier should grow and imagine Anything lovelier than the view from the hotel verandah. But even . that nature-posed-and-painted solemn, « panorama will be better appreciated it you get away from it for an hour or two. Climb wp the tallyho ladder for the nine mile drive dowr the valley of the plunging Bow. You needn't Worry about hurrying 'home again. res. a little cabin nestling up ationg the cold peaks that will give 'bed over night If your're fisherman sea level and 50 wide and deep tha after one of the infrequent Rocky rains, a whole double rainbow can be seen in it, intaet from end to end, tempting the superstitious to jump down from the talivho and dig for the pot of gold. Battalions of cloud shadows can drill at once over the faces of the placid mountain across the valley and the near slopes are a florists' heaven of Indian paintbrush. There is the deep scarlet gypsy brush, the rose red brush, the palest pink, the bleached-blondetangerine, the snow-white brush, Gather an armful of them if you want to take back a palettesplash of color for your room. A cityful of tourists couldn't denude a xingle laughing slope, ' Here is a rockslide, bare and scoured to desolation, like a long smudge of ruin between the scarlet fields. This 18 where yot must look sharp and whistle if you would be re warded by the scuttle of a and the scenery drops fis neighborlts ness. The Tower of Babel, Mt, Babel and Mt. Fay throw their white heads up against the blue, There is a loneliness of long vigil, an aloof Bess from the world of men. No ons needs to tli the tiny tallyhoful of peow ple to stop their pleasant chatter, The curtain has gone up on the grim creationdrama and talk stops autos matically. : , At 12st you round the turn into the) fissure between the mountains. Ten of them there are, and at thelr tout! ' the little blue luke. It's really a m 3 from where you get oul of your carels © age to the bottom of those si sand huge snow crowns and the black es, carpments of bare sock that are too 'stéep for smow. But the cléar phere miliimizes the the colossal vertical Hit: Rig gis is $ Ri £58