Travelers' Original Accounts Since 1840 



Canadian Horseshoe Fall, by far the grander of the two, was 1913 

 lost in spray and evening mists. Verily, a scene of poetry and ec ' wee " 

 romance; and yet of strength withal, for the power of that force 

 is stupendous. It seemed unreal, untrue, half hidden by a mist 

 of watery crystals and covered by a veil of darkness. 



Grey clouds descended to meet the ascending foam; all 

 seemed unfathomable, weird, and strange; a hazy moon rose 

 rapidly in the sky and we shuddered as we thought of the horrors 

 of a pouring wet day on the morrow, which indeed seemed 

 imminent after such a grey, misty, autumn evening. 



Next morning, however, all was changed; the watery moon 

 had given place to gorgeous sun, the grey clouds had dispersed, 

 and the heavens were blue, a vast expanse of cobalt blue. When 

 we reached Prospect Point a little after breakfast, it seemed 

 impossible that the wild, ethereal, Brocken-like effect could have 

 been followed by such a glorious Indian-summer day. We saw 

 more than on the previous evening; we saw everything clear and 

 sharp and distinct; we loved the rainbows chasing each other 

 in the spray; but the charm and the poetry had gone. 



Niagara in the glare of the day was disappointing, and we 

 longed for the evening again. We longed for the mist to hide 

 those hideous advertisements which hit us and hurt us. But 

 we had not time to dally, for a day and a half is little enough 

 at Niagara; so into a wonderful electric railway shoot we went, 

 and in a few seconds were whirled down below the cliffs, and 

 into the little steamer known as the Maid of the Mist, which 

 goes right up to the very Falls themselves. 



We took off our hats and, putting on mackintosh coats and 

 head coverings, sat boldly on deck. The spray from the Falls 

 is more wetting that a really steady downpour of rain, for it 

 comes not merely from above and the sides, but rises up from 

 below; it comes from everywhere, in fact, and the drops of 

 water simply poured down our noses. But it was worth going 

 through such an experience, although, when we really turned 

 round under the Horseshoe Falls on the Canadian side, the 



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