The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1879-09-11
A Renaissance of Niagara.

| remember when / was but a boy
that man got into the rapids here,
having been carried down in a boat, which
was broken to pieces. He had the good
fortune to be dashed on rock, to which
he chung 1t was at the height Of the
season-August, if 1 recollect-and he
chung there for fully sc hours. Every
body streamed out of the hotels and the
village: the banks of the river, part;cu-
larly the west side, We're thronged with
people anxious to do something to save
him. Dozens Of plans We're suggested;
some attempted, but they all failed.
Thousands of dollars were offered to any
body who would rescue him. The
desperate situation of the man had been
been telegraphed over the country, and
every train brought crowds of passengers
hither to witness it with their own ewes.
He was then encouraged by shouts from
the banks, but whether he could under
stand anything said is doubtful.
The world is said to be sympathetic.
1t is, or appears to be, unsympathetic, be-
cause the object for which sympathy is
asked is abstract. When it is tangible,
visible, all is changed. There was an ex-
empli6cation. This poor wretch could
be seen. He was an ordinary unedu-
Gated man; but he was a man, and the
brotherhood and sisterhood of race went
out to him in pity and intense eagerness
to rescue him. Women of fashion, "blase"
club men, selfish worldlings grew pale as
they watched the unhappy wretch, SO
vivid was their sympathy.
Many persons sat up all night looking
across the seething, roaring waters at
the small dark figure still clinging to the
rock. The morning came; renewed
efforts were made, but they all miscar-
ried. The crowd had increased; it was
immense. Everybody was excited. Tears
were in the women's eyes; the pallor
cleaned though the rouge of some of
their cheeks. Can't something be done
Must the poor fellow perish before our
faces Is there no way to rescue him ?
Such questions were necessarily asked;
but, alas, no reply could be given.
The man had good courage and great
strength. He chung to the rock with
the desperation of a dying man. To
lose his hold was to be dashed over the
cataract. Apparatus ard contrivances
arrived from Buffalo. New experiments
and new failures. Hoarse shouts still
rang across the rapids to hold on, to be
of good heart. The stoutest heart that
ever throbbed could not grippe that rock
forever. 1t was wonderful how he had
endured. A fresh idea had come to the
minds Of half dozen mechanics. They
were laboring to throw out a hawser;
every muscle was strained, every eye
bent upon their work.
Suddenly the man slipped away He
was exhausted; he threw up his hands;
he dashed toward the cataract. A low
groan as from one breast quaked through
the throng; the thousands shivered with
terror. A black object for a moment
longer in the hell of the waters. and
then disappeared forever. There was an
agony of relief. No one moved; no one
spoke for while. All looked in the
direction where the figure had been
swallowed up. 1t was the enchantment
of terror; it was the chill Of tragedy, dis
tinctly wrought, which froze everyone
for the moment to the spot.
The old resident-he has lived here
forty years-says, that on an average
about six persons are carried over the
falls every year, and that four out of
the six are wholly or partly intoxicated
and lose their lives by carelessness or
recklessnes in rowing above the rapids,
going beyond the line Of danger. But
for liquor not more than two lives, he
says, would be lost annually.-St. Louis
Globe Democrat.