I went out, and walked leisurely down to the Suspension Bridge. I found a great many people collected on the bridge, and on either shore, and observed that there was a rope stretched across from bank to bank, not far from the bridge.
This bridge is one of the grandest of structures. It is an iron bridge with a single span of eight hundred feet, and is suspended two hundred and fifty feet above the water. The trains run over on top of it, while on a level with the bank are a carriage-way and a walk for pedestrians.
I paid twenty-five cents to be admitted upon the bridge, in order to view the feats of Mr. Leslie. It was crowded with spectators, but I succeeded in getting a good position, from which I could see the rope.
Not long after, Mr. Leslie, arrayed in the garb of a circus actor, and carrying a long pole in his hands, as a man is apt to carry a fence-rail when constructing a worm fence, made his appearance on the American shore, stepped boldly out upon the rope, over the fearful abyss, and walked leisurely toward Canada. He moved nimbly till he had traveled more than half the length of the rope, when he seemed to lose his confidence for awhile, stopped, and tottered from side to side. At this point, the ladies all became pale, a great many of them said, “O, Lord!” fervently, and turned away; while we stronger-hearted men gazed on with the most absorbing interest and anxiety. Leslie soon regained his composure and equilibrium, and resumed his perilous walk.
On reaching the Canada side, he was saluted with thunders of applause from both shores and the bridge; and, after resting awhile, and taking a glass of lemonade (probably), he again stepped upon the rope, balancing-pole in hand, and a coffee-sack over his head. He thus again accomplished the fearful walk, and was again greeted with cheers. Then he went out upon the rope, with only the balancing-pole, stopped about the middle, and performed some gymnastic feats. He laid his pole carefully down—one end resting on the main rope, and the other on one of the guys—hung there by his hands a moment, two hundred and fifty feet above the foaming waters, that were still angry from their recent leap, then hung suspended by one hand, then by his chin, then by his feet, and finally by one foot. To use the very mildest expression, it looked dangerous.
His hanging suspended by one foot was his last feat for that day; the crowd soon after dispersed, and I got into an omnibus and returned to Niagara.
CHAPTER XIX.
Canada.
EARLY next morning I started for Canada. Just below the Falls a flight of three hundred steps, protected by a weather-boarded frame-work and roof, descends the steep bank to the water’s edge, and beside the flight of steps is a track for small cars, that are drawn up and let down by means of a windlass run by water-power. I got on one of the cars and rode down to the water; but before taking the boat for Canada, visited the foot of the Falls near by, and got completely wet with spray again. Here the wind created by the vast masses of water continually tumbling down is very strong, and the flying spray is equal to a violent rain; so that this place reminded me of the “Cave of the Winds.” I had to climb over a huge heap of slippery rocks that had at one time fallen from above, and I got my shin scraped and bruised, and my knee cut in the operation. O, what difficulties a mortal will overcome for the sake of novelty. Charles Dickens thus speaks of this place in his “American Notes:”
“Climbing over some broken rocks, deafened by the noise, half-blinded by the spray, and wet to the skin, we were at the foot of the American Fall. I could see an immense torrent of water tearing headlong down from some great height, but had no idea of shape or situation, or any thing but vague immensity.”
After getting as wet as I wanted, I (John Smith,) returned to the foot of the stairway and got aboard the ferry-boat. This is only a kind of yawl that will accommodate twenty or twenty-five passengers, and is rowed across the turbulent stream by one strong man. It was crowded with visitors, of both sexes and all ages; and when we reached the middle of the stream, where the waves were rolling, and the boat rocked handsomely, a lady grew dizzy and pale, dropped her parasol in the water, fainted, and fell back in the boat, into the arms of a friend. I seized the parasol before it could float away, sprinkled a little of the sparkling water upon her face, and she revived. We soon after reached the Canada shore and she was all right again.