Heretofore All Men Would
Have Said That No Chance Of Life Could Remain To So Ill-Starred A
Bark.
The navigation, however, has been effected.
But men used to
the river still say that the chances would be fifty to one against
any vessel which should attempt to repeat the experiment.
The story of that wondrous voyage was as follows: A small steamer,
called the Maid of the Mist, was built upon the river, between the
falls and the rapids, and was used for taking adventurous tourists
up amid the spray as near to the cataract as was possible. "The
Maid of the Mist plied in this way for a year or two, and was, I
believe, much patronized during the season. But in the early part
of last summer an evil time had come. Either the Maid got into
debt, or her owner had embarked in other and less profitable
speculations. At any rate, he became subject to the law, and
tidings reached him that the sheriff would seize the Maid. On most
occasions the sheriff is bound to keep such intentions secret,
seeing that property is movable, and that an insolvent debtor will
not always await the officers of justice. But with the poor Maid
there was no need of such secrecy. There was but a mile or so of
water on which she could ply, and she was forbidden by the nature
of her properties to make any way upon land, The sheriff's prey,
therefore, was easy, and the poor Maid was doomed.
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