ose of the
wilderness, it is the ruling spirit of the angry flood, the dreadful
MANITOU OF THE CATARACT!

One tearful look the maiden bestows upon her agonised lover, ere the
canoe glides over the precipice, and, swift as rocks hurled by spring
rains down the side of the mountains, disappears in the horrid chasm
below. One tearful look, one heart-rending shriek, which rises even
above the roar of the cataract, as the canoe plunges through the
foam, and she is gone from his eyes, like a feather caught up on the
wings of a great wind.

What beautiful little bird is that which descends from yon
silver-edged cloud, which is floating so high in the heavens that only
the vulture may venture a flight thither, or the gray eagle sweep to
it in his pride? Beautiful creature! beautiful bird(1)! not so large
as the swallow, its neck a bright green, its wings scarlet, mottled
with white, and having a train thrice as long as its body, in which
are blended all the colours that adorn the rainbow. It came to the
spot where the lover, unmanned by the dreadful catastrophe, stood
mourning like a mother bereaved of her children, and, thrice circling
his head, invited his attention by all the means which could be used
by mortals, except that of speech. The lover sees at length the
beautiful creature, and knows _whose_ messenger it is. But why comes
the herald of hope to him in his hour of despair? Can the Great
Spirit, all-powerful as he is, succour him? Can joy be yet in store
for him? It must be so, else why has he sent down his own messenger
from the sky? That Being is too kind and too good to hold out false
hopes; it is not in his nature to intimate an intention of succouring
unless he actually entertains such intention. Be comforted, Mountain
Plant, thou hast a friend!

And now commenced their toilsome journey down the side of the
cataract. The spirit-bird led, and the bereaved lover followed. Poised
on joyful wing, the little messenger fluttered before him, singing
sweet songs of promise, until they had descended into the frightful
abyss, and its secrets stood revealed before them. Terrific sight!
tremendous sound! Their eyes were appalled by the view of billows
which mount to the very skies--of huge volumes of water, dashing down
the dreadful precipice into a vast basin, which seemed large enough to
be the tomb of the giant Chappewee; and their ears were saluted with
sounds, whose loudness and violence were a thousand times beyond