The Roar of the Cataract: A Fourth of July Ramble

THE ROAR OF THE CATARACT. A FOURTH OF JULY RAMBLE. BY SARAH WHALEN. "Come," said Frances to her brother, one day in the earlypart of July, "let's leave the city for the Fourth, it will be so noisy and dusty and tiresome. What do you say to going with father and mother on the trip to Canada?" "Agreed," said her ever indulgent brother, "Let's do it. I understand the Norseman is going to make a run over to Toronto, and I think we can induce father and mother to take that boat. Starting from here on the morning of the Fourth, we shall escape the racket of the city and after leaving Toronto, we can come back by way of the Falls and Buffalo. That will be fine." Accordingly, bright and early on the morning of the Fourth of July, the little party boarded the steamer, lying at her wharf at Charlotte, the port of entry for Rochester. Everything was gay and joyous, the weather all that could be desired, the boat staunch and true, and bedecked from stem to stern with pennants floating gayly in the breeze. Many hearts were swelling with emotion at the display in honor of the day. The steamer got under way, and as she left the dock, the waters of the Genesee river were plainly discernible entering the lake at this point. They steamed rapidly past the' light-house, built on a long pier extending into the lake, and almost the last object seen off shore was the blast-furnace whose fires burned steadily night and day. Our travelers also knew well that when the good, staunch

648 IMPROVEMENT ERA. Norseman returned from her Canadian trip, her pilot would steer directly between the two lights in order to bring the boat safe into the harbor. After proceeding an hour or two, the shore had become invisible, and they were afloat on broad Ontario or Cadaracqui, as the Indians called it. On reaching the middle of the lake, we can imagine the surprise of Frances, on seeing the sailors haul down every pennant, every streamer on board, and leave just one American flag flying forward, as the boat was steered steadily into the little Canadian port of Cobourg to leave and to take on mail. After leaving Cobourg they touched at Port Hope, and then on to Toronto, which they reached in the evening. They have truly avoided the dust and noise of the city. After spending a day or two in the beautiful city of Toronto, in the province of Ontario, and visiting the parks and public buildings of which the city boasts a considerable number, they hastened as rapidly as they could from Toronto to Niagara Falls. On reaching the port, there were the United States custom officers, as particular as they could be, and as Frances said even "more so." Before leaving for her trip, and knowing that she would be obliged to expose possibly all articles in her valise, she had taken the precaution to pack a great many small articles, such as pins, needles, thread, etc., in a small box, which she placed in the bottom of the valise. The official running his hand quickly through the articles, felt the box, and, turning things upside-down, said to her: "Madam, what is in that box?" For one moment she was non-plussed, having forgotten exactly what she had packed therein. But rapidly recovering, she blurted out the names of the contents, when she was allowed to depart in peace. Thence to the Park at the Falls, and after resting awhile, the brother, who always delighted in entertaining his sister, engaged to tell her many interesting incidents connected with the river and the "mighty waters." Looking through the trees, they espied some Indians from the Tonawanda reservation, engaged in making and selling beaded articles.

THE ROAR OF THE CATARACT. 649 "They look peaceful enough," said the brother, "but their ancestors must have caused the whites here in the early days considerable trouble." "Speaking of Indians," the brother continued, "let me tell you first of a custom, strange indeed, which the ancient tribes here had. "Goat Island is situated at the verge of the Falls, and separates the two great cataracts; the heavier being on the Canadian side of the Niagara River, is known as the Horseshoe Falls. "Let's go over so that we can see the Horseshoe and vou can the more readily understand from its shape, how it gets its name. Here the water, just before it takes its wild plunge of one hundred and sixty-five feet, is supposed to be sixteen feet deep, from the fact that a schooner drawing that depth of water went over the falls a number of years ago. "Among the many interesting things which are to be found here is the beautiful rainbow, which in sunny weather is always to be seen, as you see it now, hanging over these falls. Is it any wonder that the Indians believed that a mighty spirit dwelt in them, which must be appeased by the sacrifice to it of one of the most beautiful maidens of the tribe at certain stated periods? The victim having been selected, was placed in a canoe filled with fruit and flowers, and set adrift in the upper rapids, to be swept swiftly and silently into the awful gorge below, from whose unfathomable depths no human being has ever come out alive. "The American Falls, here next to us, as 'you see, are not so heavy, but higher. Under these is the wonderful Cave of the Winds, which is simply a niche in the solid rock, the veil of the cataract forming its outer wall. If you imagine yourself in a recess in a wall with a sheet of water flowing down in front, you will have a very fair idea what the cave is like, excepting the guide, the excitement, the danger, and the dampness. "On word in regard to this island, it is nearly two miles in circumference, and almost entirely covered with primeval forests in whose shady depths one would never think that such a natural wonder was so near at hand, so silent and undisturbed is everything around. To preserve the natural scenery is the great aim of the Commission having charge of the State Reservation. Always

650 IMPROVEMENT ERA. at this season of the year, as you will notice, the whole island is covered with a carpet of beautiful flowers. You know the river has a number of interesting islands in it. There is Grass Island, for instance, a small one at the head of the rapids, which at high water is completely submerged, and below which it is foolhardy to venture. From that point to the brink of the falls here, the water seethes and roars among the rocks and over lesser cataracts, some of them twenty feet high. Yet, down this boiling, foaming torrent, men have ventured and landed in safety here at the head of Goat Island. Years ago the boys of a small village, a short distance back from the river, used to go in swimming at a place not a quarter of a mile above the cataract; they would be carried, of course, down stream with the raging current, but would with considerable skill stop themselves by getting into the foot of an eddy, which would carry them up stream again. Venturesome boys! "Up the river is Fort Erie, which in early days was a place of no little importance, as it was the scene of one of the hardest fought battles of the war of 1812. The remains of the old fort are still to be traced out with tolerable accuracy among the rank grass and debris covering the ground. "Farther down on the other side of the river is the village of La Salle, so named because of its being the place from which that intrepid missionary and explorer set out on his voyage up the Great Lakes. The spot is still pointed out as the identical one from which his boat started. A little farther down, we come to the spot where Father Hennepin, the first white man to look upon Niagara Falls, stood when the magnificent scene burst upon his wondering vision. Below the falls, the river takes an abrupt turn to the north, and flows through a gorge nearly two hundred feet from the top to the surface of the water. How deep it is from the surface to the bottom of the gorge, no one has ever yet ascertained. Some say two hundred feet, others say more, but no one can give the exact measurement. From this point where we are, for about two miles down, the river is quite smooth, the velocity of the undercurrent having a tendency to send the surface water in a contrary direction. Here a small steamer makes regular trips to within a short distance of the waterfall. From the deck one

THE ROAR OF THE CATARACT. 651 may obtain all the view permitted by the spray. Come let us go down to the Suspension Bridge and the Whirlpool, and I shall explain as we proceed. At the Suspension Bridge, the undercurrent begins to come to the surface in huge billows, as you see, that seem to struggle with each other for room in the narrow space in which they are confined, and thus continues the conflict until it reaches the Whirlpool, where it strikes a solid rock, which sets the water spinning around in ever-lessening circles until the center is reached. An object that may have been following these circles, goes down at this point, only to reappear on one of the outer rings, and so it goes, till by some lucky chance it strikes the outlet and passes down the river. One very strange feature of the Whirlpool rapids is that the water is several feet higher in the center than on either side. "If we should continue down the river, we would pass the 'Devil's Hole' on the way. Into this, a party of British soldiers were driven by their French and Indian enemies. It is said that portions of broken gun cartridges can still be seen at the bottom. The stairs leading down to this dreadful place are long since fallen to decay, and no one has the hardihood to venture in, perhaps not even his 'Satanic Majesty' himself. Farther on is the picturesque little village of Lewiston, beyond which is a noble river, navigable to the largest crafts afloat on the Great Lakes. "If we should pass down the river seven miles more, we would come to Old Fort Niagara guarding its mouth. About this place there is a story which I do not think historians tell. "During the war of 1812, salt became extremely scarce in a certain town in Canada. A party was organized to try if they could not beg, borrow, or steal some from their American cousins. They crossed the lake in a large, open boat, and landed at or near the fort. To the officers, they represented themselves as being refugees from British tyranny and anxious to serve under the starry banner. The garrison being weak, these men were gladly received, and soon made themselves familiar with the fort and its surroundings. In a short time, they were sent with their boat to the mouth of the Genesee, where we came from, with a load of raw hides. This was the opportunity for which they had been waiting. A few miles down the lake, a quantity of salt was stored near the

652 IMPROVEMENT ERA. beach; and throwing the hides into the water, they loaded with barrels of the savory substance and made for Toronto. At this place, the leader was closeted with the Governor, to whom he doubtless disclosed the weak condition of the fort, the greater number of whose garrison were sick or wounded, because a short time after, it was surprised and its entire garrison slaughtered. "Opposite Lewiston, on the Canadian side, are the historic heights of Queenstown, where fell General Brock, to whose memory a splendid monument has been raised. Every schoolboy knows the story of the battle of Queenstown. How the American regulars gained the heights ; how gallantly they held their position, while the militia looked on, refusing to come to the aid of their countrymen; and how, after a desperate resistance, they were forced to surrender and lay down their arms, and were then turne d over to the tender mercies of the Red Men with tomahawks and scalping knives. "Not many miles from here, and farther up the river, is the field of Lundy's Lane, memorable as the scene of a desperate battle fought in the darkness of night. Some interesting relics of this conflict were dug up a year or so since, and are now in possession of the Canadian Historical Society. Each year, on the anniversary of the battle, a meeting is held at this place, where Americans and Canadians alike unite in commemorating the event. But we should be friends with the Canadians, since we are such close neighbors. Indeed, about one half of our boundary line is drawn in water. "But, sister mine, are you not wearied of my long rambling tales? Let us listen for a few moments longer to the sound of the 'Mighty Waters/ and then hunt up father and mother and on to Buffalo and home."