It is about one hundred feet wide, one hundred and sixty
feet high, and about one hundred feet across.
You will perhaps go from here to a very commanding point known
as Porter's Bluff. Here, when the wind is favorable, you are
away from the drenching spray of the Falls. Here, too, the
American Falls are seen in all their grandeur. They shoot free
from the upper edge of the cliff, owing to the velocity they
have acquired in descending from the rapids above. As this vast
mass of water strikes the rocks below, loud, thunder-like
detonations are heard not unlike the reverberating tones of the
breakers of the ocean. There is a mellowness in the sound that
is soothing rather than a deafening roar as some seem to think.
At one point in the American Falls the water strikes a
projecting shelf of rock a short distance below the upper ledge
and is pulverized yet finer, making it gush out in silvery
plumes, which are worn to lustrous threads of marble whiteness.
They form long gauzy streamers as fine as sifted snow, giving to
it the name of "Bridal Veil." No bride ever wore a veil of such
delicate and exquisite texture unless it was some water sprite,
fit creature to be adorned with such gauzy and wind-woven
drapery. Only the fairy looms of Nature can produce lace-like
gossamer films of such intricate and varied designs.
>From this point the colors of the American Falls are superb. How
remarkably soft and fine they are! The pearl-grey, snow-white,
lavender and green masses seem to mingle together, blending
imperceptibly from one to the other, making a novel and
beautiful effect that surpasses the rarest dreams of the most
gifted decorative painter. The extreme beauty of delicate and
striking variety of coloring, like evening skies and sunset
seas, baffle any attempt at description. When the morning
sunbeams stream through the mist of the Falls their exquisite
tones of purple and gray and the marvelous fineness of the
American Falls come to one like a revelation.
One can never forget his morning visit to the American Falls
when the sunlight comes from the required angles, heightening
the beauty of the whole wild mass of waters, sifting in
ravishing splendor through the clouds of drifting spray. What an
artist Nature is! One has seen nothing in the delicate colored
wing of night moths, in the purple bloom of the ocean, the color
of autumn woods or clouds of fair Italian skies, that could
rival this "evanescent bow" in exquisite fineness. A huge mass
of lovely colors, like an arch of glory, rises from the boiling
spray near you, while a breeze causes the larger mass to waver
from color to color and mingle with the trees on the Canadian
shore.
