The Falls of Niagara and Other Famous Cataracts

by George W. Holley

It is a curious fact that nine out of every ten persons who visit the Falls for the first time, are on their arrival completely bewildered as to the points of the compass; and this without reference to the direction from which they may approach them. All understand the general geographical fact that Canada lies north of the United States. Hence they naturally suppose, when they arrive at the frontier, that they must see Canada to the north of them. But when they reach Niagara Falls they look across the river into Canada, in one direction directly south, and in another directly west. Only a reference to the map will rectify the erroneous impression. It is corrected at once by remembering that the Niagara River empties into the south side of Lake Ontario.

One other fact may be regarded as well-established, namely, that most visitors are disappointed when they first look upon the Falls. They are not immediately and forcibly impressed by the scene, as they had expected to be. The reasons for this are easily explained. The chief one is that the visitor first sees the Falls from a point above them. Before seeing them, he reads of their great height; he expects to look up at them and behold the great mass of water falling, as it were, from the sky. He reads of the trembling earth; of the cloud of spray, that may be seen a hundred miles away; of the thunder of the torrent, and of the rainbows. He does not consider that these are occasional facts. He may not know he is near the Falls until he gets just over them. At certain times he feels no trembling of the earth; he hears no stunning roar; he may see the spray scattered in all directions by the wind, and of course he will see no bow. Naturally, he is disappointed. But it is not long before the grand reality begins to break upon him, and every succeeding day and hour of observation impresses him more and more deeply with the vastness, the power, the sublimity of the scene, and the wonderful and varied beauty of its surroundings. Those who spend one or more seasons at Niagara know how very little can be seen or comprehended by those who "stop over one train."

Rock of Ages and Whirlwind Bridge

They are fortunate who can see the Falls first from the ferry-boat on the river below, and about one-third of the way across from the American shore. The writer has frequently tried the experiment with friends who were willing to trust themselves, with closed eyes, to his guidance, and wait until he had given them the signal to look upward.

Those who may be at Niagara a few nights before and after a full moon should not fail to go to Goat Island to see the lunar bow. It is the most unreal of all real things—a thing of weird and shadowy beauty.

Another striking scene peculiar to the locality is witnessed in the autumn, when the sun in making its annual southing reaches a point which, at the sunset hour, is directly west from the Falls. Then those who are east of them see the spray illuminated by the slant rays of the sinking sun. In the calm of the hour and the peculiar atmosphere of the season, the majestic cloud looks like the spray of molten gold.

In 1840 there was a small patch of stones, gravel, sand, and earth, called Gull Island, lying near the center of the Canadian rapid and about one hundred rods above the Horseshoe Fall. It was apparently twenty rods long by two rods wide, and was covered with a growth of willow bushes. It was so named because it was a favorite resort of that singular combination of the most delicate bones and lightest feathers called a gull.

The birds seem large and awkward on the wing, but as they sit upon the water nothing can appear more graceful. They are far-sighted and keen-scented. Their eyes are marvels of beauty. They are eccentric in their habits, the very Arabs of their race—here to-day and gone to-morrow. They are gregarious and often assemble in large numbers. At times in a series of wild, rapid, devious gyrations, and uttering a low, mournful murmur, they seem to be engaged, as it were, in some solemn festival commemorative of their departed kindred. One moment the air will be filled with them and their sad refrain; the next moment the cry will have ceased and not a gull will be seen. They come as they go, summer and winter alike. In thirty years the writer has never been able to discover when nor whence they came. In winter they generally appear in the milder days, and their disappearance is followed by cooler weather.