192 FRAGMENTS OF SCIENCE 



of Biddle's Stair, the guide to the Cave of the Winds. 

 He was in the prime of manhood — large, well built, firm 

 and pleasant in mouth and eye. My interest in the scene 

 stirred up his, and made him communicative. Turning 

 to a photograph, he described, by reference to it, a feat 

 which he had accomplished some time previously, and 

 which had brought him almost under the green water of 

 the Horseshoe Fall. "Can you lead me there to-mor- 

 row?" I asked. He eyed me inquiringly, weighing, per- 

 haps, the chances of a man of light build, and with gray 

 in his whiskers, in such an undertaking. "I wish," I 

 added, "to see as much of the fall as can be seen, and 

 where you lead I will endeavor to follow." His scrutiny 

 relaxed into a smile, and he said, "Yery well; I shall be 

 ready for you to-morrow." 



On the morrow, accordingly, I came. In the hut at 

 the head of Biddle's Stair I stripped wholly, and re- 

 dressed according to instructions — drawing on two pairs 

 of woollen pantaloons, three woollen jackets, two pairs of 

 socks, and a pair of felt shoes. Even if wet, my guide 

 assured me that the clothes would keep me from be- 

 ing chilled; and he' was right. A suit and hood of yel- 

 low oilcloth covered all. Most laudable precautions were 

 taken by the young assistant who helped to dress me to 

 keep the water out; but his devices broke down imme- 

 diately when severely tested. 



We descended the stair; the handle of a pitchfork do- 

 ing, in my case, the duty of an alpenstock. At the bot- 

 tom, the guide inquired whether we should go first to the 

 Cave of the Winds, or to the Horseshoe, remarking that 

 the latter would try us most. I decided on getting the 

 roughest done first, and he turned to the left over the 



