Not the least remarkable of these freaks is the Old Man of the Mountain, who uprears his gigantic form amid a sea of cliffs and rugged heights, in the heart of that region known as the “Switzerland of America”—New Hampshire.
“What doth thy anxious gaze espy?
An abrupt crag hung from the mountain’s brow!
Look closer; scan that bare, sharp cliff on high;
Aha! the wondrous shape bursts on thee now—
A perfect human face—neck, chin, mouth, nose and brow!”
A face of granite that alone kept watch and ward over the country long ere the foot of man pressed its soil. In the grave, philosophical outlines is traced a resemblance to Franklin’s countenance. At the base of this singular mountain lies a sparkling sheet of water, called the “Old Man’s Mirror.”
More beautiful and wonderful than any of these grave images is the Maid of the Kaaterskill Falls, in the Catskill Mountains. With the mellow light of sunset falling obliquely upon the thin layer of water flowing over a sharp ledge worn and fretted by the continual wear of the current for ages, rock and spray together making up the illusion, is to be seen the fairy-like form of an Indian maid, with flowing hair and robes. So clearly does she appear that the beholder has at first the startling conception of gazing upon a living being, suspended in the waters.
Indian tradition says that this maid of the mist was once the beloved of the Great Spirit; but herself falling in love with a Mohawk brave, she perished here, fleeing from her angry master.