NIAGARA. 177 



On Friday, November 1, 1872, just before reaching 

 the village of Niagara Falls, I caught, from the railway 

 train, my first glimpse of the smoke of the cataract. 

 Immediately after my arrival I went with a friend to 

 the northern end of the American Fall. It may be 

 that my mood at the time toned down the impression 

 produced by the first aspect of this grand cascade; but 

 I felt nothing like disappointment, knowing, from old 

 experience, that time and close acquaintanceship, the 

 gradual interweaving of mind and nature, must power- 

 fully influence my final estimate of the scene. After 

 dinner we crossed to Goat Island, and, turning to the 

 right, reached the southern end of the American Fall. 

 The river is here studded with small islands. Crossing 

 a wooden bridge to Luna Island, and clasping a tree 

 which grows near its edge, I looked long at the cata- 

 ract, which here shoots down the precipice like an 

 avalanche of foam. It grew in power and beauty. The 

 channel spanned by the wooden bridge was deep, and 

 the river there doubled over the edge of the precipice, 

 like the swell of a muscle, unbroken. The ledge here 

 overhangs, the water being poured out far beyond the 

 base of the precipice. A space, called the Cave of the 

 Winds, is thus enclosed between the wall of rock and 

 the falling water. 



Goat Island ends in a sheer dry precipice, which 

 connects the American and Horseshoe Falls. Midway 

 between both is a wooden hut, the residence of the 

 guide to the Cave of the Winds, and from the hut a 

 winding staircase, called Biddle's Stair, descends to 

 the base of the precipice. On the evening of my ar- 

 rival I went down this stair, and wandered along the 

 bottom of the cliff. One well-known factor in the 

 formation and retreat of the cataract was immediately 

 observed. A thick layer of limestone formed the upper 



