Mollie Adams Diary of Her Journey in the Canadian Rockies June 28, 1908
Mrs. N.’s Camp
Sunday, June 28
Rain in the night and clouds still low. We got off at 10:15 and traveled til 2 when we reached Teepee Camp. Some delays on account of pack horses getting into trouble. Ginger was packed today and H. rode Pinto. The blue horse has a sore back so W. took him and led him all the way except crossing the streams. Old Gingerbread has not a pleasant disposition anyway and did not relish much being a pack horse. W. says that when he bought him and brought him to Banff, everyone said, “You’ll never be able to anything with him. He’s one of Brewster’s bad horses that he sold to the Indians.” So he prepared for the worst, even thought perhaps he had better leave Ginger behind. But he has not done anything dreadful yet, in spite of his reputation and his evil looking face – kicks around and tries to pull down the tree he is tied to sometimes, but nothing really serious. Today Ginger and one of twins managed to get tangled up with the same stick caught under both their cinches, and there was lively work before they were set loose. Silver got down in the mud twice, once had to have his pack taken off. He has always been the one to get stuck in the mud. Aneroid said 5600 when we arrived at Teepee Camp. M. and I went fossil hunting after lunch. Mosquitos pretty chewy. When we got back to camp M. wanted her picture taken as a martyr to science. She was a handsome sight with her head tied up in a red neckerchief to protect her from the bugs, every pocket in breeches, and sweater bulging and hanging down from the weight of fossils, and carrying a great wad of specimens for Mr. B. Just as we were going to bed someone remembered it was Sunday. Someone else made a few wicked remarks about “bible-punchers” and we had a few rather choicer yarns than usual, which is saying a good deal.
Sunday, June 28
Rain in the night and clouds still low. We got off at 10:15 and traveled til 2 when we reached Teepee Camp. Some delays on account of pack horses getting into trouble. Ginger was packed today and H. rode Pinto. The blue horse has a sore back so W. took him and led him all the way except crossing the streams. Old Gingerbread has not a pleasant disposition anyway and did not relish much being a pack horse. W. says that when he bought him and brought him to Banff, everyone said, “You’ll never be able to anything with him. He’s one of Brewster’s bad horses that he sold to the Indians.” So he prepared for the worst, even thought perhaps he had better leave Ginger behind. But he has not done anything dreadful yet, in spite of his reputation and his evil looking face – kicks around and tries to pull down the tree he is tied to sometimes, but nothing really serious. Today Ginger and one of twins managed to get tangled up with the same stick caught under both their cinches, and there was lively work before they were set loose. Silver got down in the mud twice, once had to have his pack taken off. He has always been the one to get stuck in the mud. Aneroid said 5600 when we arrived at Teepee Camp. M. and I went fossil hunting after lunch. Mosquitos pretty chewy. When we got back to camp M. wanted her picture taken as a martyr to science. She was a handsome sight with her head tied up in a red neckerchief to protect her from the bugs, every pocket in breeches, and sweater bulging and hanging down from the weight of fossils, and carrying a great wad of specimens for Mr. B. Just as we were going to bed someone remembered it was Sunday. Someone else made a few wicked remarks about “bible-punchers” and we had a few rather choicer yarns than usual, which is saying a good deal.
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