68 John Bachman. 



like magic, while they are just pulling up tlie green 

 stumps in the road. 



I must be brief, for I intend galloi)ing to Niagara, 

 and through Canada, and down Lake Champlain. 

 I have passed the Hudson, whose shores present 

 monuments of the works of God and the beauties 

 of nature, that will be admired while taste, and 

 feeling, and judgment, remain in the world. The 

 canals are proud monuments of art. Erie and 

 Ontario, have, by this time, mingled their waters 

 in the Great Western Canal. Here boats are sailing 

 on the aqueduct above, and passing under the 

 arches beneath. At Lockport, you rise by eight 

 doul)le locks, sixty -two feet perpendicular : and, on 

 the same principle, you might rise to the top of Mt. 

 Caucasus. One thousand boats are on the canal. 

 In a few years every dollar of the expense will have 

 been liquidated. All this world of produce floats 

 on to the great capital, where men grow giddy, and 

 their hearts proud of their prosperity. 



We went to an Indian village, near Niagara, and 

 the chief showed us his drawings — the belt and wam- 

 pum and battle axe — sold us one of his books, full of 

 fables — we saw an Indian wedding party ; the girls 

 went to the village of the groom, reversing our order, 

 for she came to fetch him. He will never be a Jerry, 

 tell my wife and Mrs. Gordon, till he brings iiis bride 

 to Cannonsborough. We stopped for three days to gaze 

 at the Falls of Niagara. For two days I looked up in 

 stupid wonder, and could not speak. 'Tis folly to 

 attempt a description. Let the sceptic just take his 

 stand on a rock, on the British side, and look up 

 before him and round about, and to the heavens 

 above. The great waters of Erie have been con- 

 gregated together, pressed into a narrow space, roar- 

 ing and foaming angrily to be released, and they 

 come with one awful plunge, tumbling down — dowli 



