The water seemed to
hang poised before us like glorious amber curtains; the delicate
fineness of their gauzy folds gloriously revealed in irised
spray by the sunlight.
"We hailed it as a charming idyl - a poem
of Nature that she cherished and hid from all but the most
ardent enthusiasts."
"In the warm noon sunshine, with the singular luxuriance of
vegetation that clothed the terraces of rock on either side of
the stream, we could have fancied ourselves entering some
radiant landscape gardens. This gray masonry was covered with
bright blue campanula, dainty fronded ferns, light green in
color; and the air, wonderfully pure and sweet in itself from
the recent rain, was filled with delicate woodland odors." Light
exhalations seemed to rise from the steaming mould and drift
toward us; and over all like the spirit of the place, rose the
bell-like tones of the wood-thrush, while the murmur of the
falls sang a mellow accompaniment. Truly, as the poet has said,
"There is ever a song somewhere," and dull indeed are the ears
that fail to hear it. Looking out over the woods filled with the
murmur of the falls, we wondered what people listened to its
voice before the white man's foot was planted among this vast
solitude. Here the war songs of the Oneidas had arisen or smoke
from their camp fires curled among the tree tops.
The larger falls are seen to best advantage from a rocky ledge,
where you can watch the waters calmly bending over the
precipice.
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