15 a deep blue sky and strong sunlight. The slight bridge to Goat Island appeared more presumptuous by daylight, and the sharp slope of the rapids above it gave a new sense of the impetuosity of the torrent. As they walked slowly on, past the now abandoned paper mills and the other human impertinences, the elemental turmoil increased, and they seemed entering a world the foundations of which were broken up. This must have been a good deal a matter of impression, for other parties of sight-seers were coming and going, appar-10 ently unawed, and intent simply on visiting every point spoken of in the guidebook, and probably unconscious of the all-pervading terror. But King could not escape it, even in the throng descending and ascending the stairway to Luna Island. Standing upon the platform at the top, he realized for the first time the immense might of the downpour of the American Fall, and noted the pale green color, with here and there a violet tone, and the white cloud-mass spurting out from the solid color. On the foam-crested river lay a rainbow form-20 ing a complete circle. The little steamer Maid of the Mist was coming up, riding the waves, dashed here and there by conflicting currents, but resolutely steaming on-such is the audacity of man-and poking her venturesome nose into the boiling foam under the Horse-25 shoe. On the deck are pygmy" passengers in oilskin suits, clumsy figures, like arctic explorers. The boat tosses about like a chip, it hesitates and quivers, and then, slowly swinging, darts away down the current, fleeing from the wrath of the waters and pursued by 30 the angry roar. . . . ... The The walk around Goat Island is probably unsurpassed in the world for wonder and beauty. Americans have every reason to be satisfied with their share of the fall; they get nowhere one single grand view like that from the Canada side, but infinitely the deepest impression of majesty and power is obtained on Goat Island. There the spectator is in the midst of the war of nature. 5 From the point over the Horseshoe Fall our friends, speaking not much, but more and more deeply moved, strolled along in the lovely forest, in a rural solemnity, in a local calm, almost a seclusion, except for the everpresent shuddering roar in the air. On the shore above 10 the Horseshoe they first comprehended the breadth, the great sweep, of the rapids. The white crests of the waves in the west were coming out from under a black, lowering sky; all the foreground was in bright sunlight, dancing, sparkling, leaping, hurrying on, converg-15 ing to the angle where the water becomes a deep emerald at the break and plunge. The rapids above are a series of shelves, bristling with jutting rocks and lodged trunks of trees, and the wildness of the scene is intensified by the ragged fringe of evergreens on the oppo-20 site shore. ... One seems in less personal peril on the Canadian side, and has more the feeling of a spectator, and less that of a participant in the wild uproar. Perhaps there is more sense of force, but the majesty of the scene is re-25 lieved by a hundred shifting effects of light and color. In the afternoon, under a broken sky, the rapids above the Horseshoe reminded one of the seashore on a very stormy day. Impeded by the rocks, the flood hesitated and even ran back, as if reluctant to take the final 30 plunge! The sienna color of the water on the table contrasted sharply with the emerald at the break of the fall. A rainbow springing out of the center of the caldron arched clear over the American cataract, and was one moment bright and the next dimly seen through the mist, which boiled up out of the foam of waters and swayed in the wind. Through this veil darted adventurous birds, flashing their wings in the prismatic colors, and circling about as if fascinated by the awful rush and thunder. With the shifting wind and the passing clouds the scene was in perpetual change; now the American Fall was creamy white, and the mist below dark, and again the heavy mass was gray and sullen,10 and the mist like silver spray. Perhaps nowhere else in the world is the force of nature so overpowering to the mind, and as the eye wanders from the chaos of the fall to the far horizon, where the vast rivers of rapids are poured out of the sky, one feels that this force is 15 inexhaustible and eternal. If our travelers expected to escape the impression they were under by driving down to the rapids and whirlpool below, they were mistaken. Nowhere is the river so terrible as where it rushes, as if maddened by 20 its narrow bondage, through the cañon. Flung down the precipice and forced into this contracted space, it fumes and tosses and rages with vindictive fury, driving on in a passion that has almost a human quality in it. Restrained by the walls of stone from being de-25 structive, it seems to rave at its own impotence, and when it reaches the whirlpool it is like a hungry animal, returning and licking the shore for the prey it has missed. . . . The late afternoon had turned gray and cold, and dashes of rain fell as our party descend-30 ed to the whirlpool. They came up out of the gorge silent, and drove back to the hotel full of nervous apprehension. 5 XLV. THE AMERICAN FLAG. BY JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE.' WHEN Freedom from her mountain height. She tore the azure robe of night, Majestic monarch of the cloud! Who rear'st aloft thy regal form, And see the lightning lances driven, 15 20 25 Flag of the brave! thy folds shall fly, Like shoots of flame on midnight's pall, And cowering foes shall shrink beneath Flag of the seas! on ocean wave Shall look at once to heaven and thee, Flag of the free heart's hope and home! And all thy hues were born in heaven. |