A Ramble of Six Thousand Miles through the United States of America | Page 8

day was excessively warm, and I had
unfortunately encumbered myself with my gun and shot pouch. The
Falls are here seen in all their grandeur. Two immense volumes of
water glide over perpendicular precipices upwards of 170 feet in height,
and tumble among the crags below with a roaring that we distinctly
heard on our approach to the village, at the distance of five miles up the
river: and down the river it can be heard at a much greater distance. The
Falls are divided by Goat Island into two parts. The body of water
which falls to the right of the island is much greater than that which
falls to the left; and the cliffs to the right assume the form of a
horse-shoe. To the left there is also a considerable indentation, caused
by a late falling in of the rock; but it scarcely appears from the
Canadian side. The rushing of the waters over such immense
precipices--the dashing of the spray, which rises in a white cloud at the
base of the Falls, and is felt at the distance of a quarter of a mile--the
many and beautiful rainbows that occasionally appear,--united, form a
grand and imposing coup d'oeil.
The Fall is supposed to have been originally at the table-land near
Lewiston; and indeed, from the nature of the ground, and its present
condition below the Falls, no reasonable objection can be entertained to
that supposition. The upper part of the cliffs is composed of hard
limestone, and underneath is a bed of schistus. Now this schistus is
continually worn away by the water's dashing against it. This leaves the
upper part, or immediate bed of the river, without foundation. When,
therefore, from extraordinary floods, the pressure of the incumbent
fluid becomes more than usually great, the rock gives way; and thus,
gradually, the Falls have receded several miles.
I at length ascended the stairs, and popped my head into the shanty,
sans ceremonie, to the no small amazement of the cunning compounder
of "cock-tails," and "mint julaps" who presided at the bar. It was clear
that I had ascended the stairs, but how the deuce I had got down was
the question. I drank my "brandy sling," and retreated before he had

recovered from his surprise, and thus I escaped the volley of
interrogatories with which I should have been most unsparingly
assailed. I walked for some distance along the Canadian heights, and
then crossed the river, where I met my friend waiting my return under a
clump of scrub oak.
We had previously determined on visiting the Tuscarora village, an
Indian settlement about eight miles down the river, and not far from
Ontario. This is a tribe of one of the six nations, the last that was
admitted into the Confederation. They live in a state of community; and
in their arrangements for the production and distribution of wealth,
approach nearer to the Utopean system than any community with which
I am acquainted. The squaws told us that no Indian there could claim
any thing but what was contained within his own cabin; that the
produce of the land was common property, and that they never
quarrelled about its division. We dined in one of their cabins, on lean
mutton and corn bread. The interior of their habitations is not
conspicuous for cleanliness; nor are they so far civilized as to be
capable of breaking their word. The people at the Niagara village told
us, that with the exception of two individuals in that community, any
Indian could get from them on credit either money or goods to
whatever amount he required.
I here parted with my fellow traveller, perhaps for ever. He went to
Lewiston, whence he intended to cross into Canada, and to walk along
the shores of Ontario; whilst I made the best of my way back through
the woods to Manchester. I certainly think our landlord had some
misgivings respecting the fate of my companion. We had both departed
together: I alone was armed--and I alone returned. However, as I
unflinchingly stood examination and cross-examination, and sojourned
until next morning, his fears seemed to be entirely dispelled. Next day I
took a long, last look at Niagara, and departed for Tonawanta.
At Tonawanta I again took the canal-boat to Buffalo, a considerable
town on the shores of lake Erie, and at the head of the canal navigation.
There are several good buildings in this town, and some well-appointed
hotels. Lake schooners, and steam and canal boats are here in

abundance, it being an entrepôt for western produce and eastern
merchandize. A few straggling Indians are to be seen skulking about
Buffalo, like dogs in Cairo, the victims of the inordinate use of ardent
spirits.
From Buffalo I proceeded in a steamer along lake