By Water to the Columbian Exposition | Page 4

Company, when our attention was attracted by a photographer who seemed to be very desirous of taking a photo of the yacht and her passengers; for he aspired to gain the most favorable posture, apparently quite a task under the circumstances. How well he succeeded in his endeavors, the readers can judge for themselves by glancing at the frontispiece of this book.
Resuming our journey, we soon had opportunity to admire the beautiful and fertile Mohawk Valley, once the home of one of the tribes composing the Five Nations. Arendt Van Curler, the noble founder of the "Place Beyond the Pines," pronounced this picturesque region the most beautiful the eye of man had ever beheld, at a time when the country was yet in its infancy. Though great changes have taken place since that remote date (1642), the grandeur of the scenes spread before us evidently showed that the country has lost little of its beauty, even at the present day, nothwithstanding the white man has established in many places his smoking factories and noisy looms.
At the second lock Mr. Schermerhorn, who owns a beautiful residence near this place, in the Township of Rotterdam, joined our party, whereupon we continued sailing on the smooth surface of the canal with accelerated speed.
At 2.40 P.M., after having passed five locks, we approached _Amsterdam_, an enterprising and prosperous city of over 20,000 inhabitants, located in the midst of romantic scenery. We halted at Port Jackson for a few minutes, since this was the terminus of the voyage of Mr. Hastings and my father.
When parting with me, my father said:
"This short tour has sufficed me to perceive how delightful your voyage promises to be in company with this amiable family. Thus I leave you, feeling very happy that so many pleasures and enjoyments are awaiting you."
I answered his kind words with a hearty parting kiss, as a token of my filial love.
The two gentlemen, after having abandoned the yacht, ascended the bridge that spans the canal at that point; and bidding us farewell once more, they pursued us with their eyes until the graceful lines of the "Marguerite" had become invisible in the distance.
Continuing our voyage, I was in perfect rapture with the ever varying magnificence of the luxuriant Mohawk Valley. In the afternoon the sky became overcast and the quietude that had been prevailing was interrupted by a thunder-clap, which gave us the signal to prepare for a shower. After the expiration of a few minutes the full-charged clouds poured their deluge upon mother earth. This natural phenomenon, however, was only of short duration; but sufficient to render the atmosphere most delightfully pure and refreshing. It was now a redoubled pleasure to view the many hills and dales, adorned in every shade of verdure, varying with romantic forest scenes; all mingling into one inexpressibly rich garniture in which Nature had royally clad herself in order to give us greeting on our way.
As we reached Fultonville, a suburban village of Fonda, about twenty-six miles from Schenectady, Dr. Veeder and Congressman Schermerhorn parted with us, wishing us a pleasurable voyage.
The "Marguerite," gliding along, neared the vicinity of Sprakers when suddenly the "heaven grew black again with the storm-cloud's frown," and a flash of lightning illuminated the sky with crimson radiance. It is for a moment as if the horizon was in flames, a spectacle glorious to behold. Another minute and a peal of thunder reaches our ears. Then the dark, heavy clouds discharge their contents in copious abundance.
"In grateful silence earth receives The general blessing: fresh and fair Each flower expands its little leaves As glad the common joy to share."
While it is still raining,
"The sun breaks forth, from off the scene Its floating veil of mist is flung. And all the wilderness of green With trembling drops of light is hung."
A magnificent rainbow, spanning the boundless arch on high, embellishes this superb panorama.
As the sunset was bathing all summits in soft, crimson light, and the pale lustre of the orbed moon appeared in the east, we arrived at Canajoharie.
This small town, noted for its fine stone quarries, was chosen for our abode over Sunday, and busy hands carried out the order to safely moor our craft near the bridge pertaining to the main street.
When taking a long walk about the town, I found that, although inferior in size, it is a very desirable place for summer residences; being beautifully situated on romantic slopes crowned with elegant and tasty villas.
Canajoharie is regularly and appropriately laid out with wide, well kept and adequately lighted thoroughfares, and many citizens reside in spacious and architecturally ornamented houses. It is a recognized center of trade, from which agricultural products of all kinds are shipped.
In the first historic record, dated 1757, the place was styled "Fort Cannatchocary," and mentioned as a