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The Royal North West Mounted Police patrolled the area on horseback, in their scarlet coats. They were respected and appreciated, and maintained the right. These were the kind of people who opened up the Crowsnest Pass.

One cannot overstate the minimum amount of equipment available to those pioneers, equipment with which to locate ore bodies or evaluate coal deposits, to build roads, trestles, bridges over deep gorges, equipment to guide in driving a straight tunnel through rock. For earth moving there were just horses drawing scrapers and ploughs and much manual labor, but no electricity until they made it, no telephones until they extended the lines themselves, no walkee-talkees, caterpillar tractors, bull-dozers, back-hoes or power shovels of any kind. There were no helicopters to lift heavy equipment up the mountain side, no really adequate pumps for handling water, and not even roads, or trucks or cars, so common today. No one had gone before them to smooth the way. Timbers were cut by hand, hauled out of the bush with horses and squared with axes. They had to exhibit special stamina, special construction and mining skills, and make slow progress with manual labour. Small wonder then that there was a man known as the "skunk rancher" who lived alone and with very limited hygenic facilities. When taken to the hospital, the nurses claimed it took them a week to uncover real skin.

By today's standards progress was inevitably slow. But there was a camaraderie and common understanding and sympathy among people. They loved to play simple little jokes on one another and especially on newcomers — particularly if the latter exhibited what might be termed a superior attitude or condescending air, indicating they could do better. "Green-horns" they were called, a label that made them fair game to be humbled and trained in the school of hard knocks.

Such a man claiming superior knowledge of horses, or riding ability would be handed a horse, sure to buck him off, or otherwise embarrass him. They tell of the new-comer boarding the train for Lille — a short run off the main line — who upon being told the fare was two bits, produced two quarters. But after having the ride, the conductor confided that next time one quarter would equal two bits. Yet help that could be given, help of any kind, in goods, services, companionship, was as freely given as one could expect within a family. Doors were not locked, pay for such services was never considered. And most of the one time green-horns stayed to become happy members of the open-hearted family, and took their turn in initiating others, such as the "remittance men", who had been raised with no stress on earning their own living, who were paid to stay away from England, and had much to learn in the beginning at being self sufficient.

In the south-west corner of the property there was a canyon-like formation with a creek running through. Here a lone prospector by the name of Frank Byron had spent considerable time prospecting for gold. It is still known as Byron Creek. On the side of the mountain close by, the first tunnel for a mine was driven.

This article is extracted from Crowsnest and its People: Millennium Edition (Coleman, Alberta, Crowsnest Pass Historical Society, 2000.) The Heritage Community Foundation and the Year of the Coal Miner Consortium would like to thank the authors and the Crowsnest Pass Historical Society for permission to reprint this material.

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