"I started on a journey to the great Falls of Niagara, with my father and mother, to witness the voluntary sacrifice of a young Indian maiden to the great Spirit of the Falls, or Naiad God of the Water. We pursued our journey through beautiful forests, over wood-crowned hills, fording the valley streams without interruption, until the second day, near sunset, we came in sight of a beautiful lake, whose surface
'Seemed so placid, smooth and fair,
That Naiad might look on to plait her hair.'
"We traced the shores a short distance, coming to a little crystal stream, the waters of which were cool and refreshing. We concluded to encamp near this stream, that spun its silver thread to the lake from a dark ravine over which the branching tree-tops leaned. We followed the stream a short distance, and built our camp-fire under shelter of a large branching tree that stood on the bank of the ravine. Near this tree a cool fountain gushed from a large rock, and made music for us as it dashed over its stony bed to join the stream below. Taking into consideration all the surroundings, it was a grand place for a lover of scenery and solitude. There we ate our evening meal, and, after slaking our thirst at the cooling fountain that flowed from the rock, laid down to rest our weary limbs by our camp-fire, that blazed up and illuminated the forest for several rods around, making the forest look grand, with its branches interlocked in social harmony, fanned by the gentle breeze from the lake that whispered through the tree-tops, and sung of passing time, like the Æolian harp that hung upon the willows along the streams of Babylon.
"All nature seemed to invite us to repose, and the waters of Lethe swept over us. As the Angel of Dreams threw his mantle over me, through this gauzy mantle I seemed to trace the Queen of the Falls from earth, with her guardian angels, to the fields of Paradise, which appeared in my dream as described by the Jesuit that used to come and preach to the tribe I lived with, and give me books, teach me to read them, and teach me etiquette, such as used by the English and French. All of a sudden I thought the bolts of hell had burst asunder, and the devil incarnate walked again over earth and sea—that Gabriel had sounded his trumpet for all to assemble at the judgment hall on the borders of two worlds.
"Slowly awaking to consciousness, I cast my eyes towards the big rock. I felt the rain pattering down in my face from the tree-tops, and, lo! there I saw two eyes that looked to me like two orbs swimming in liquid fire, which frightened me to such a degree that I attempted to scream for mercy.
"I seemed to be paralyzed. In this awful moment of fear, the Great Spirit sent an arrow of electric fire from the darkest pavilion of the storm-cloud, selected from the quiver of the Eternal Jehovah, down into the top of a mighty oak that leaned over the dark ravine a few rods above our camping ground, which tore off the top and splintered its massive trunk to the ground. The awful crash frightened me nearly out of my wits. I screamed with all the power of voice I possessed, for I thought the ebon paw of Satan was upon me. The panther then set up the most unearthly scream I had ever heard leaped from the rook, and seemed to make the forest jar at every scream, until he was far away on the lake shore. The clap of thunder awoke my father and mother. The chief, hearing the screams of the panther, seized his weapons of war and tried in vain to penetrate the surrounding gloom, for the blackness of the storm-cloud made the forest a dungeon, occasionally illuminated by flashes of electric fire from the arching clouds over our heads, which could not be penetrated by mortal eye. The chief again gathered up the few burning brands that remained, and piled high his fuel. This only served to light a few rods from the fire, whilst all beyond seemed black as the regions of darkness. There was no more sleep during the night.
"Morning dawned. The storm-cloud passed away, and we resumed our journey with cautious and timid steps toward the place of our destination, arriving late in the afternoon at the Upper Falls, on the Genesee, where the waters dashed from rock to rock, until it reached the valley below the Falls. We traced the river bank three or four miles, to Gardow, a village on the west bank of the Genesee River, where the roar of the Upper Falls could be distinctly heard, where we were received with great cordiality, and conducted to comfortable lodgings, and furnished with all that nature required for comfort. After one day's rest we again started for the great Falls of Niagara, with a part of the Genesee tribe of Indians that resided at Gardow. We took the most direct Indian path that led to Niagara, which led us over hills crowned with forests, and through dark wooded valleys, reaching the Falls about sunset the second day, and encamped on the banks of that mighty rushing river, with the numerous throng that had reached their place of destination before us.
"We all encamped like a family of friends, upon the banks of a river that was destined to divide a kingdom from a republic. Early the next morning preparations were made for offering a human being as a sacrifice to the Great Spirit that created the earth and the heavens, and all things contained therein. The most beautiful and gifted young Indian maiden, just blooming into womanhood, was chosen by the priests and prophets of that ancient tribe, to appease the anger of the gods, and bear a message from that tribe to their friends that had gone over the River of Death before them, to the land of the olive and the vine in the clear Southwest, known only to the brave and just, where the wild doe and her fawn feed on flowers, where the flowers wear their everlasting bloom, and the grass is greener and more luxuriant than was ever seen, and softer than the Persian silk. In that beautiful land mortals put on the garments of immortality. When the young maiden was informed that she was chosen for the sacrifice, she came forward with a smile upon her countenance, adorned in all the glory of the Indian costume, as a bride adorned for her husband, and entered the arena. The Indian priest then stepped forward and poured upon her head the oil of venison, and placed a crown of roses, intermixed with swans-down, to give it a snowy-white appearance, and crowned her, in the name of the tribe, Queen of Niagara.
"A more beautiful or graceful being could not be found to offer up her life for her friends. The whole tribe then sang and shouted the glories of their youthful queen, each one handing her some little token of remembrance to their friends in the spirit world, and kissed her hand. After a short time had been allowed her to receive the homage due an earthly queen, two young Indian warriors came forward, one taking her by the right hand and the other by the left, and led her to the shore of the river, followed by twelve young Indian girls.
"Moored on the sandy shore above the Falls was a little white tiny boat, just large enough for one person, loaded with ripe fruits and fresh-blown roses. In this beautiful boat, surrounded by the odor of ripe fruit and perfume of roses that wantoned in the surrounding air, the young warrior placed her, put a paddle in their young queen's hand just as the sun reached the meridian, and darted his rays from his eternal quiver upon the waters of Niagara, and the young warriors cried over the river, at the same time pushing the boat from the shore, when the young queen applied the paddle with all her might and main, until she reached the middle of the river above the Falls, every Indian, young and old, shouting and singing the glories of their brave queen.