As we came through this remarkable pass, in the afternoon, dark clouds rapidly spread themselves over the sky, reinforced by others more dense and threatening, engulfing us suddenly in darkness. Then the artillery of the heavens rang out in such deafening reports as to stifle all attempts at speech. The discharges and echoes among the gloomy gulches and tall peaks mingled so rapidly that it was impossible to separate cause and effect. The rain was like a cloud-burst. The sharp flashes of lightning were so incessant and blinding that one sat with closed eyes and bated breath. The great locomotive could barely make way on the steep up-grade, the wheels having so much less hold upon the track when thus submerged. Passengers looked into each other’s pale faces in fear and amazement. Still the slow, regular _throb_, _throb_, of the iron horse was heard through the din of the thunder and the roar of rushing waters. We did move forward,—barely moved. To stop would be destruction; backward impetus would instantly follow, and no brakes are powerful enough to stop the train from a dash downward towards the plain if once it started in that direction. But stay. Soon there came a faint glimmer of light from out of the sky, gradually this increased, the dark pall of the heavens was slowly removed, and the afternoon sun burst forth with soft, ineffable beauty. The thunder sounded farther and farther away, the echoes ceased, and the _throb_, _throb_ of the ponderous engine steadily held the long train and forced the great load onward. At Field station, in the heart of the Rocky Mountains, we begin an ascent of twelve hundred and fifty feet with two powerful engines, where the roadway is cut out of the sides of nearly perpendicular cliffs to which it seems to cling with iron grasp, overhanging the roaring torrent of the Kicking Horse River, which flows at a fabulous depth below. Here we cross now and again trestle bridges, three hundred feet above some frightful gorge, or pass over a viaduct of great span. The highest point of the road is reached at fifty-three hundred feet above the level of the sea, or say just one vertical mile. This extreme elevation is about five hundred miles from Vancouver.