Year: 1875

Joel Robinson, the navigator of the
Niagara rapids" who died some years
since, was in many respects a remarkable
man. OF stout frame and muscular
make, he was retiring in his manners,
and never courted the publicity into
which his astonishing achievements
brought him. He was n first ''guide"
and then policeman at Niagara, and
was skillful in handling a boat by trips
to the fishing grounds about Navy Is
land, above the falls. One day man
was discovered clinging to Il small pro
lection of rock in the very midst of the
rapids, apparently inaccessible from the
shore. A large crowd quickly gathered,
Robinson among the rest. He studied
the situation for moment, then brought
his boat to the spot, and putting right
out into the headlong current gained the
nook, tarl off the man, whose life had
twenty minutes before seemed not worth
penny's purchase, and safely landed
with him a few rods above the brink. of
the fall. A great concourse had by this
time gathered Oil the bank, and Robin
sons heroic exploit, witnessed with fear
and amaZement, WAS greeted with rounds
of cheers. The boat with the two men
in it was taken on the shoulders eff sew
eral and carried about among the crowd,
and contributions of money were will
ingly thrown into it. For several years
after this Robinson exerted his peculiar
skill in navigating the rapids, and
snatched as many as half a dozen cast
aways from the jaws of the cataract. He
was, personally, most estimable man;
never, believe, starting on his perilous
journeys with the promise of reward, al
though very properly accepting the
small tokens of admiration for his dar-
ing which were offered him. How he
managed to guide his skiff in that seeth-
ing uproar of waters from point to point
was always mystery to everybody but
himself. The mere task of keeping it
keel downward bow with the current is
more than my reader or 1 would wish to
undertake, to say nothing of calculating
the course and the run Of the rapids
with such nicely as to land at a small
islet. Such cool heads and steady iron
hands AS those of Joel Robinson are rare
ly given to human kind. Gallant fell
low the world has few such as you
were; q real hero, in humble life though
your lot was cast. No man ever better
deserved the medal of the Humane So
ciety, which was never offered him. I
well remember the modest and charac-
teristic reply he made in the spring of
1861, after he had piloted the Maid of
the Mist down through the whirlpool
and the frightful rapids between Sus-
pension Bridge and Lewiston, where
steamboat, or indeed any boat whatever,
had never passed before, and probably
never will again. This fearful journey
of little less than six miles was made
in seventeen minutes, it being the only
possible way of taking the little steamer
to Lake Ontario, where it was to be en-
ployed. [ asked Robinson to tell me
something about his novel and terrific
trip.


'I can only say" he replied, ''that I
hung to the wheel, while another man
attended to the engine. Sometimes the
boat was on her bottom and sometimes
on her side. Sometimes L had control
Of her and sometimes she had control
OF me. But hung on and never let go
the wheel"


Wasn't you frightened 2"


f'Well, declare I was so busy with
the wheel, and the whole thing was over
so quick, that didn't think about being
frightened. I suppose L should have
been if I had had the time, for it was
pret ty ugly place, now tell you %


A young man named Conroy gained
some fame, last summer, by his rescue
of castaway in the Canadian rapids by
means of rope with which he was let
down to the imperiled one, and which
he fastened about his body. when both
were hauled to the bank by dozens of
willing hands. Conroy is still at Niagara,
and something more of this kind may
be heard of him if occasion serves.
Amid ali the pettiness, fraud and extor-
ton that have been charged upon
Niagara and its hucksters, it is pleasant
and refreshing TO read of such unselfish
and brave acts as these-Niagara Fails
Cor. N. Y. Times.