264 WANDERINGS IN SOUTH AMERICA 



with a sublime and pleasing melancholy as it 

 howls through their naked branches. 



"Around me trees vmnumber'd rise, 

 Beautiful in various dyes: 

 The gloomy pine, the poplar blue. 

 The yellow beech, the sable yew; 

 The slender fir, that taper grows. 

 The sturdy oak, with broad-spread boughs." 



A few miles before you reach Buffalo, the road 

 is low and bad, and in stepping out of the stage 

 I sprained my foot very severely; it swelled to 

 a great size, and caused me many a day of pain 

 and mortification, as will be seen in the sequel. 



Buffalo looks down on Lake Erie, and possesses 

 a fine and commodious inn. At a little distance 

 is the Black Rock, and there you pass over to the 

 Canada side. A stage is in waiting to convey you 

 some sixteen or twenty miles down to the falls. 

 Long before you reach the spot you hear the 

 mighty roar of waters, and see the spray of the 

 far-famed falls of Niagara, rising up like a 

 column to the heavens, and mingling with the 

 passing clouds. 



At this stupendous cascade of nature, the 

 waters of the lake fall one hundred and seventy- 

 six feet perpendicular. It has been calculated, 

 I forget by whom, that the quantity of water dis- 

 charged down this mighty fall, is six hundred 

 and seventy thousand two hundred and fifty-five 

 tons per minute. There are two large inns on 

 the Canada side; but, after you have satisfied 

 your curiosity in viewing the falls, and in seeing 

 the rainbow in the foam far below where you are 



