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.