Wed. July 8th. In the train. Dearest Father. Forgive me for writing in this shaky place, but I really have no time except in the train and I haven't written home since Lake Louise. By the way, I was quite right in thinking that my two New England ladies were superior persons. Their name is Whitney, they are friends of the Chamberlains - Beatrice is indeed going to stay with the niece this autumn. We made a great alliance and I am going to stay with them both next time I come to the States. On the last day I was at Lake Louise, Thursday, I made a final ascent. Not difficult, except for the weather conditions. It had been snowing for days - and was still most of the time I was climbing - and the new snow was unspeakable, over our knees every step. We had to take great care not to start avalanches, a slip would certainly have done so. I got back from my mountain at 4 PM, washed and changed, dined with the Whitneys and went off to Banff which I reached at 10.30. There I found all the CampBell party and a lot of other travelling companions. It's an enchanting place in the foothills, lovely drives, flowers, rocky points. On Friday morning Dr Gerard [see also Gerrard] drove me out to the National Park to see the bisons, the last, almost of their kind. They were delightful. I photographed them and an elk which is the most beautiful animal I ever saw. I cannot say as much about the moose. His nose is too broad at the tip. All these animals live in the great enclosure of the park, quite wild, and a man on a horse rides about the bushes and beats them out for you to see. We left Banff - CampBells Dr G. and I - in the afternoon, steamed out of the mts, and into the prairie, where at Calgary at 6 in the afternoon H. [Hugo] joined us - very dusty and brown and delighted with his expedition. Stokes came running along the platform to say goodbye to him just as the train went off. I was introduced to a flying glimpse of him. We got to Moose Jaw early next morning and there H and I got off and had 8 hours to spend. So we took horses and rode out over the prairie. I can't tell you how curious it is to travel days and nights over that same unbroken expanse of green. At long intervals there is a tiny town, wooden houses dumped down at the railway side, no roads, no trees, but a mass of ploughs and farm implements standing round to be sold. Moose Jaw is bigger than the average but its streets are quite innocent of metalling and the outskirts of it - i.e. all but 2 streets - are slanted down on the green grass, tiny wood cabins, some of only one room. We rode out onto the st..... of green; in a moment the little town was hidden by a roll of the ground - imperceptible however as a feature in the landscape - and we were galloping across prairie, all just the same for miles and miles and miles. The air had a sort of crystal purity like the air of mountain tops. Here and there an unmetalled trail led away to the horizon and at intervals there was a little wooden box of a house standing up in the great green sea of grass and sprouting corn. There were prairie dogs everywhere: if we stopped still for a moment, thousands of little heads popped up out of thousands of little holes to see who was there, and so tame were they that when we were standing they came bunting against our horses' feet. Then they sat up on their hind legs again and chattered with surprise. We had a long conversation with one who turned out to be a Lancashire man recently come out. He was ploughing with a team of 6 horses and he said this was a good country, his step-mother and father were coming out to join him in the autumn and they were to take up a farm of their own. Then we stopped again to photograph a wooden house and fell into talk with the owner of it, a widow who worked[?] her land with her son and a little boy from Barnardo's Home. "Yes he's a Home boy, sure," said she and as H said he knew where the Home was she inquired anxiously whether we had ever come across the boy's father of whom he has lost all trace. But we hadn't, oddly enough. She wouldn't live in Moose Jaw for worlds, it's too crowded for her. If you could only see Moose Jaw you would realize the force of that statement. It's just a little more crowded than the desert. We enjoyed ourselves mightily and came back to crowded Moose Jaw at 1, very hungry. We had time to change comfortably and have a bath before starting off again. Then we travelled for some 43 hours, gradually getting into what looked more like civilization towards the end of Sunday. We missed our connection at Minneapolis owing to our being 2½ hours late, and got to Chicago at midday on Monday. We were quite overcome by the horribleness of its outside - the filth of the streets, the noise the ugliness and the discomfort of the hotel, but for all that I enjoyed my visit there. After lunch we went in quest of Raymond, ran him to earth, or rather found out where he lived, but he was out. So we went back to enjoy a stroll by the lake, where we found that the whole lake front is occupied by railway lines and the trains Bellched smoke at us as we stopped to admire the view! Raymond came to see us late that night. H was gone to bed, but I saw him and had a talk with him. He came next morning about 11 and talked uninterrupted for 1½ hours. He's rather like Lisa, talks like her, throws back his head and speaks with bursts of eloquence - this doesn't sound promising, but I tell you that H and I listened to him, breathless for an hour and a half and could not believe that he had been talking for more than half an hour. He is a very striking person; I fancy he's going to be a big power; I shouldn't wonder if he made himself a big name a long way outside the limits of Chicago. H was so enthralled by his accounts that he is actually going back to Chicago to spend 4 days with him. I encouraged this notion for Raymond is exactly the kind of person H ought to be with. He is so entirely outside the bounds [of] any stereotyped creed. But he was desperately busy the next 3 days, so we decided that H shd come with me to Niagara as arranged and then return, by which time R. will be free to show him about. Meantime, I have telegraphed to Lisa suggesting that I shd spend those 4 days in her neighbourhood and H and I again meet in New York. I did another interesting thing that morning; I went to see the School of art, sent in my card to the Director as bold as brass (Raymond had told me his name) and was shown round by him. It's wonderful! yes, sir! (You see I'm beginning to talk American). Chicago is a great city. The vitality of it! They do it all themselves, art galleries, philanthropy everything - and on such tremendous lines. As yet the endeavour - in art at any rate - is more admirable than the achievement, but they'll arrive, yes, that people will arrive. My Director and Raymond had the same tale about London, "What struck me" said each of his own matter "was that people seemed so indifferent." What strikes me about Chicago is that people seem so different. Then came a contretemps - we missed our train! It was owing to our not understanding the ways of luggage in this country. There we were all ready and the train going, but no luggage. For why? it was in the baggage room waiting for us to take it out. So the train went and after it had gone we sadly found our luggage and cursed ourselves for being such idiots. The next went at 3 AM, but we found we could get into our sleeper at 10.30 so, making the best of things, we took a train miles and miles out to Washington Park and got out at a sort of Earl's Court, called Sans Souci, where we dined and saw the shows and enjoyed ourselves. I may say we had there the experience of a lifetime, for we went on a switchback that looped the loop. I can't say it was nice; H says he was distinctly conscious of being upside down - which we were for the fraction of a second - but I only knew a rush and a scramble and my hat nearly off and we were out on the open again. Father! I bought some carnations from a foreign looking party to whom I said: Are you an Italian? "No" says he "I'm a Greek." "Where from?" says I. "Sparta [Sparti]" says he. And I didn't ask where he came from, because I knew he must have come from Monodendron! We went back to the station, got into our train about 11.30 and went to sleep, (Thurs 9th [9 July 1903]) and after a very hot journey arrived here at 6. We found that the CampBells were here and after washing and changing we went up and dined at their hotel. (We're on the Canadian side, just across the bridge and our rooms have a magnificent view of the falls.) It was a full moon and after dinner we went out and saw the falls by moonlight. Dr Gerard, H and I even walked all along the Canadian bank to opposite the Horseshoe Falls. It was perfectly magnificent - I'm so glad I need not describe it to you. We think of you and Mother a great deal. This morning, a broiling hot day, we did all the correct things, drove round Goat Island, went in the Maid of the Mist up to the Horseshoe Falls and ended with the Cave of the Winds. I think that's the best of all. One realizes the rush of the water better than anywhere. Now H and I part company. Liza meets me in Boston tomorrow afternoon and H goes back to Raymond.
We saw the news about Sir Joseph in Vancouver. Poor old man! one can't help feeling it's the best solution. We are thrilled about Preferential Tariffs. I see Leo Maxse has gone hot for them. That was to be expected. I'm beginning to think it will all fall through when they try to arrange the terms of it, but not without creating a good deal of bad blood and maybe breaking the party. I'm so glad Maurice and Phyllis are flourishing, and also delighted with your news about Aunt F [Florence]. I'm very glad Mr Strong is better too. We are deeply interested in the new link in your chain of Bodley evidence.

I much fear we shall miss the Summer Meeting. It's woefully disappointing, but H was so keen to stay in this country. Keep the people as long as you can. Your affectionate daughter Gertrude