The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1897-10-03
----S-~'-s-
LEGEND OF THE AU SABLE.
Ride Across Bridge which Was
Not There.


From the Chicago Times-Herald.
To the lover-of curious scenery the Ad-
irondacks present an infinite variety The
region abounds in lakes large and small,
surrounded by mountains or EMPOWERED in
forests; and the rivers which finds their
way between the mountains SEEM in some
places, to have cut their way, through,
leaving the sheer precipices on either hand
to mark their pathway. The most famous
of these gorges is the Au Sable chasm,
which is not far from where the Au Sable
river flows into Lake Champlan. The
galleries, caves and castellated columns
attract thousands of tourists yearly; but
seventy years ago it was comparatively
unknown. In those early days the precip-
itous cliffs We're spanned by a wooden
bridge, over which the farmers had to
pass on their way to Au Sable Forks. The
bottom of fhel ehasm at this point was a
sheer descent Of 1875 feet. In those early
days the pioneers were not skilled in the
art of bridge building, and so one night
when a fierce storm Numbered through
the mountains the bridge was swept
away, with the exception of the main
stringer, a beam of about eighteen inches
square The bridge was never rebuilt.
and another road to the little village of Au
Sable Forks was utilized. The old string
er. however, still stretched across the
cliffs above the Au Sable chasm.
One pitch black night, about ten years
after the storm that had demolished the
bridge, a stranger drew up his horse in
front of the tavern at Au Sable Forks.
1t was 10 O'Clock and the taproom was
well filled with villagers, drinking, smok-
ing and playing cards. The entrance of
stranger caused the usual commotion,
and as he sat in one corner eating hast
lily prepared supper, he was the cynosure
of all eyes, After the meal, the host, as
was the custom, engaged the stranger in
conversation.
Dark, nasty night outside, sr?"
YES, pretty black
"Have any trouble in finding your way?''
ooh, no; used to live in this neighbour
hood twenty years ago.
so? Well you'll find things pretty
well changed since you left"
Yes, l expect so; the old bridge is still
standing though; and l am glad of that,
for helped to build it,
"The old bridge?" questioned the tav-
ern-keeper, and everyone in the room look
ed up in amazemept.
why. yes" rejoined the stranger, 1.-THE
bridge across the chasm down the road a
half mile"
WHAT are you crazy?" shouted the
host. There is no bridge across the Au
Sable; there has been no bridge there for
the past ten years"
But you are mistaken. my friend; I
rode my horse across it not three-quarter
of an hour ago"
Impossible, sir; tell you that the
bridge blew down ten years ago."
Again l tell you, my friend, that / rode
across it this very night was the i'm
perturbabe answer. 1T was too dark
for me to see, but 1 heard the clatter of
my horses feet on the planking, and the
noise of the water in the chasm below"
The argument waXed warmer and
warmer until the stranger said that they
would wait until the next morning. when
it could easily be settled if there was a
bridge or not. He made a wager with the
landlord that it was still standing across
the chasm.
The next morning every man, woman
and child at Au Sable Forks was at the
chasm. Sure enough. in the soft sand or
the road there were footprints of a horse,
and the trail led from the stringer across
the chasm up to the tavern porch One
young daredevil walked across the mar
row stringer and made a startling discov-
cry.
There was similar trail on the other
side!
The stranger had told the truth. In the
darkness of the night his horse had cross
ed the chasm on a single beam.
But that is not the strangest part of
the story. When that forenoon the
stranger rode down 70 the Au Sable chasm
to settle his wager with the keeper of the
tavern and he saw the perilous path over
which he had Travelled the night before It
is said that he was stricken with trem-
bling that never left his limbs until DEATH
and that within the space Of sixty seconds
his hair turned from jet black to the
color of driven snow.
William Waldorf Astor is about 10