The veteran guide also told me that Buffalo was clearly visible through the telescope, and tried to point it out to me. I will not deny the fact that it was visible from the tower, but I couldn’t “see it.”
When we went below, I treated him, as I had promised, tasting something myself; then I asked the proprietor what was to pay for drinks and visiting the tower?
Returning to my sable friend in the buggy, I got in again and told him to drive to the Burning Springs, “as fast as the law would allow him;” and in less than half-an-hour we were there.
The water of these springs is characterized by an accompaniment of inflammable gas—sulphuretted hydrogen, I think—and when a lighted match is applied to it a blue flame springs up over the surface, like the flames of burning spirits.
I returned to the Falls and found that we had been gone a little over two hours and a half. I then gave the darkey three dollars, and told him to drive me down to the river; which he cheerfully did.
The ferry-boat was just leaving, as I jumped from the vehicle, but the boatman saw me, and began to push back. To reach the boat, I had to step over some stationary rocks that protruded from the water, and in attempting to step from one of them to the boat, I slipped, lost my footing, and down I went into the river, striking my chin on the sharp edge of the rock, as I descended, and cutting it to the bone. I went in up to my neck, and would have gone lower still had I not clung to the rock. I scrambled up into the boat, with some assistance, and the boatman recovered my crutch and cane that were floating on the water.
The gash on my chin healed up in a few weeks, but it left a scar that will be unpleasant ground for my barber to get over as long as I live.
A couple of days later, having visited all the points of interest in the vicinity of Niagara, I departed for Buffalo, a city at the head of the Niagara river, twenty-two miles from the Falls. I did not leave however, without regret: I fancied I could never grow tired of Niagara Falls. The great cataract, whose youth, and vigor, and might are the same they were a thousand years ago, could never grow old to me!
I LOCATED in a delightful place called “Cold Spring,” in the suburbs of Buffalo, and there remained two weeks; during which time I recovered from my cough, and the gash on my chin healed up. I made some pleasing acquaintances at Cold Spring, and became as much attached to the beautiful locality as though I had lived there for years.