Darkness
came on and I began to feel anxious about the prospect of gaining my
object.
The conductor and his assistant, in the knowledge that I had a through
ticket to Hong-Kong, did everything in their power to aid me. Wire
messages were sent to have the Imperial Limited Express wait for "a man
travelling first-class"; to the custom-house, and also for a cab and four
"red caps" to meet me on arrival. The assistant conductor told everybody
of the plight of the passenger with the long journey before him, the
engineer was prevailed upon to increase his speed; and the passengers
began to exhibit interest. A tall Canadian came to me and expressed his
belief that I would catch that train, and even if it should be gone there
was another a little later by which it might be overtaken. "I shall assist
you," he added.
As we approached Montreal there were still twelve minutes left. The lights
of the city were visible near by, and one of my fellow passengers was in
the act of assuring me that my chances were good, when our train suddenly
stopped - on account of the bridge being open to permit a ship to pass. Ten
minutes lost! I had decided, if necessary, to sacrifice two boxes of honey
which I had bought at the last moment, honey and water being my usual
drink when on expeditions. The total weight was ninety kilograms, but they
were neatly packed in paper and had been allowed to stand at one side of
the entrance to the Pullman car. They were an important adjunct of my
outfit, but perhaps after all it would be necessary for us to part.
Immediately upon the opening of the doors the four porters presented
themselves with the encouraging information that they understood the
Imperial Limited was waiting. My luggage, including the honey, was hurried
on to a large truck, my Canadian friend throwing his on too, and speeding
the boys to a trot, we ran as fast as we could to the baggage-room of the
custom-house, where the official in charge caused us only a short delay.
As the packages were being loaded into three cabs a man stepped forward
and accosted me: "We have got you now! I am a reporter for The Star, and
would like to know who the man is that keeps the Imperial Limited
waiting!" The moment did not seem favourable for an interview, but I
invited him to enter my cab and the two or three minutes required to drive
to the station afforded opportunity for an explanation:
I was on my way to New Guinea. This was a Norwegian undertaking which had
the support of three geographical societies. It was hoped that a geologist
and a botanist from Norway would meet me next year in Batavia to take part
in this expedition to one of the least-known regions on the globe. "What
do you expect to find?" he asked just as we halted.
The porters outside said the train was gone, having waited fifteen
minutes. The newspaper man immediately joined forces with my Canadian
friend, and they were equally determined that by some means I should
overtake that train. First we went to look for the station-master, hoping
through him to obtain permission to have the train stopped en route. When
found after a few minutes' search, he tried in vain to get one of the
officials of the Canadian Pacific Company on the telephone. My two friends
stood near to keep his interest active, but he did not seem to succeed.
The station was quiet and looked abandoned. It was after ten o'clock and
at that time of the evening the hope of reaching an official at his
residence seemed forlorn.
Meantime I had my luggage ready to throw aboard the 10.30 express, which
was my one chance in case the Imperial Limited could be halted. The three
men were persistent but finally, two or three minutes before the departure
of the express, they came to me hurriedly and said: "You had better go by
this train to North Bay, where you will arrive at 9.30 to-morrow morning.
There you will catch the train, or if not you can return here." There
appeared to me small prospect that the three men would succeed in
obtaining the desired permission, but I had no time for reflection. The
train was ready to start and my luggage was hastily thrown to the platform
of the car. I bade the gentlemen a hurried good-bye, thanking them for all
the trouble they had taken. "You are going to catch that train!" the
reporter exclaimed in a firm and encouraging tone. "But what do you expect
to find in New Guinea?" he suddenly inquired as I jumped on to the slowly
moving train.
Reflecting that in the worst case I would be back in Montreal in one and a
half days, I fell asleep. At 6.30 in the morning I was awakened by the
voice of the porter saying, "the train is waiting for you, sir," as he
rolled up the curtain. It really was the Imperial Express! The big red
cars stood there quietly in the sunshine of the early morning. In a few
minutes I was dressed, and never with greater satisfaction have I paid a
porter his fee.
The station was Chalk River, and the train had waited forty minutes. What
a comfortable feeling to know that all my belongings were safely on board!
I had not only saved time and money but an interesting trip across the
continent lay before me. Having washed and put on clean garments, I had my
breakfast while passing through an enchanting hilly country, amid smiling
white birches, and the maples in the autumn glory of their foliage, with
more intensely red colouring than can be seen outside North America.
