Avery's descent of the Falls--The fatal practical joke--Death of
Miss Rugg--Swans--Eagles--Crows--Ducks over the Falls--Why dogs
have survived the descent.
On the morning of the 19th of July, 1853, a man was discovered in the
middle of the American rapid, about thirty rods below the bridge. He was
clinging to a log, which the previous spring had lodged against a rock.
He proved to be a Mr. Avery, who had undertaken to cross the river above
the night before, but, getting bewildered in the current, was drawn into
the rapids. His boat struck the log, and was overturned, yet, by some
extraordinary good fortune, he was able to hold to the timber. A large
crowd soon gathered on the shore and bridge. A sign, painted in large
letters, "We will save you," was fastened to a building, that the
reading of it might cheer and encourage him. Boats and ropes were
provided, with willing hands to use them. The first boat lowered into
the rapids filled and sank just before reaching Avery. The next, a
life-boat, which had been procured from Buffalo, was let down, reached
the log, was dashed off by the reacting waters, upset, and sank beside
him. Another light, clinker-built boat was launched, and reached him
just right. But, in some unaccountable manner, the rope got caught
between the rock and the log. It was impossible to loosen it. Poor
Avery tugged and worked at it with almost superhuman energy for hours.
The citizens above pulled at the rope until it broke.
By this time a raft had been constructed, with a strong cask fastened to
each corner, and ropes attached so that Avery could tie himself to it.
It was lowered, and reached him safely. He got on it and seized the
ropes. Every heart grew lighter as the rescuers moved across the lower
part of Bath Island, drawing in the rope, while the raft swung easily
toward Goat Island. But when it reached the head of Chapin's Island, all
hopes were dashed again. The rope attached to the raft got caught in the
rocks as it was passing below a ledge in a swift chute of water. All
efforts to loosen it were ineffectual. Another boat was launched and let
down-stream. It reached the raft all right, and Avery, in his eagerness
to seize it, dropped the ropes he had been holding, stepped to the edge
of the raft, with his hands extended to catch the boat, when the raft,
under his weight, settled in the water, and, just missing his hold, he
was swept into the rapids, went down the north side of Chapin's Island,
and, almost in reach of it, in water so shallow that he regained his
feet for an instant, threw up his hands in despair, fell backward, and
went over the Fall. The tragedy lasted eighteen hours.
The names connected with the next incident are suppressed, out of regard
for the feelings of surviving friends. It is given as a warning to
future visitors to Niagara not to attempt any mirthful experiments
around the Falls. A party of ladies, gentlemen, and children were on
Luna Island, near a small beech tree, since destroyed, called "the
Parasol." A young girl of ten was standing near her mother, just on the
brink of the water, when a young man of twenty-two stepped up beside her
and seized her playfully by the arms, saying, "Now, Nannie, I am going
to throw you in," and swung her out over the water. Taken by surprise
and frightened, she struggled, twisted herself out of his grasp, and
fell into the rapid within twenty feet of the brink of the precipice.
Instantly the young man plunged in after her, seized hold of her dress,
and swung her around toward her half-distracted mother, who almost
reached her as she slipped by and went over the Fall, immediately
followed by the young man. The young girl was found some days afterward,
lying on her back, on a large rock, holding her open parasol above her
head, as though she had lain down to rest. A few weeks afterward the
father of the young man was coming up the river, on the _Maid of the
Mist_, from the lower landing. A body was discovered floating in the
water, and, by the aid of a small boat, was brought on board the
steamer. It was that of his son.
On the 23d of August, 1844, Miss Martha K. Rugg was walking to Table
Rock with a friend. Seeing a bunch of cedar-berries on a low tree, which
grew out from the edge of the bank, she left her companion, reached out
to pick it, lost her footing, and fell one hundred and fifteen feet upon
the rocks below. She survived about three hours. Pilgrims to Table Rock
used to inquire for the spot where this accident happened. The following
spring, an enterprising Irishman brought out a table of suitable
dimensions, set it down on the bank of the river, and covered it with
different articles, which he offered for sale. In order to enlighten
strangers about the spot, he provided a remarkable sign, which he set up
near one end of the table. This sign was a monumental obelisk, about
five feet high, made of pine boards, and painted white. On the base he
painted, in black letters, the following inscription:
"Ladies fair, most beauteous of the race,
Beware and shun a dangerous place.
Miss Martha Rugg here lost a life,
Who might now have been a happy wife."
An envious competitor, one of his own countrymen, brought his own table
of wares, and placed it just above the original mourner. Thereupon, the
latter, determining that his rival should not have the benefit of his
sign, removed it below his own table, having first removed the table
itself as far down as circumstances would permit. Then he added his
master-stroke of policy. Up to that time the monument had been
stationary. Thenceforward, every day on quitting business he put it on a
wheelbarrow and took it home, bringing it out again on resuming
operations in the morning.
Previous to the War of 1812, the Niagara River abounded in swans, wild
geese, and ducks. Since that war none of the swans have been seen here,
except two pair which came at different times. One of each pair went
over the Falls, and was taken out alive but stunned. Their mates,
faithful unto death, were shot while watching and waiting for their
return.
Eagles have always been seen in the vicinity, and a few have been
captured. A single pair for many years had their aerie in the top of a
huge dead sycamore tree, near the head of Burnt Ship Bay. It was
interesting to watch the flight of the male bird when he left his
brooding mate to go on a foraging expedition. Leaving the topmost limb
that served as his home observatory, he would sweep round in a circle,
forming the base of a regular spiral curve, in which he rose to any
desired height. Then, having apparently determined by scent or sight, or
by both, the direction he would take, he sailed grandly off. How
grandly, too, on his return, he floated to his lofty perch with a single
fold of his great wings, and sat for a few moments, motionless as a
statue, before greeting his mate. When the young eaglets had but
recently chipped their shells, passing sportsmen were content to view
the majestic pair at a respectful distance. A pair of eagles, each
carrying ten talons, a hooked beak, a strong pair of wings, and an
unerring eye, all backed and propelled by an indomitable will and
courage, are not to be recklessly trifled with.
Early in July, 1877, two farmers riding in a buggy from Bergholtz, in
the easterly part of the town of Niagara, toward the town of Wilson on
Lake Ontario, saw a large gray eagle sitting on a fence by the roadside,
and watching with much interest some object in a field beyond. Leaving
their buggy, they ascertained that the object of its solicitude was an
eaglet sitting on the ground, unable to fly, his wings and feathers
having been drenched by a heavy shower. One of the men who first reached
the young bird found it rather bellicose, and while attempting to
secure it was surprised by a vigorous thump on the head from the old
bird, accompanied with a sensation of sharp claws in his hair which
nearly prostrated him. His assailant then rose quickly some forty feet
in the air, and, turning again, descended upon the man with such force
as to compel him to relinquish his game. His friend joined him, and for
nearly half an hour the two were engaged in a fierce fight with the
resolute bird, which they estimated would measure eight feet across the
extended wings. The eagle would soar quickly upward as at first until it
reached the desired range, when it would turn upon them with great
fierceness, thumping with its wings and striking with its talons at
their very faces. Finally, securing a number of good-sized
cobble-stones, they advanced again upon the eaglet, and were at once
attacked by the parent. But they used their stone artillery with vigor,
and succeeded in getting the eaglet to their buggy, leaving its gallant
defender still unconquered and soaring in the air with a slightly
injured wing.
Before the War of the Rebellion, Niagara was a favorite resort of that
winged scavenger, the crow, and, at times, they were very numerous. But
after the first year of the war they entirely disappeared. Snuffing the
battle from afar, they turned instinctively to the South, and did not
re-appear among us until several years after the war had ended.
Large numbers of ducks formerly went over the Falls, but not for the
reason generally assigned, namely, that they cannot rise out of the
rapids. It is true that they cannot rise from the water while heading
up-stream. When they wish to do so, they turn down the current, and
sail out without difficulty. No sound and living duck ever went over the
precipice by daylight. Dark and especially foggy nights are most fatal
to them. In the month of September, 1841, four hundred ducks were picked
up below the Falls, that had gone over in the fog of the previous night.
In two instances, dogs have been sent over the Falls and have survived
the plunge. In 1858 a bull-terrier was thrown into the rapids, also near
the middle of the bridge. In less than an hour he came up the
ferry-stairs, very wet and not at all gay.
The reason why the dogs were not killed may be thus explained. From the
top of the Rapids Tower, before its destruction, the spectator could get
a perfect view of the Canadian Fall. On a bright day, by looking
steadily at the bottom of the Horseshoe, where water falls into water,
he could see, as the spray was occasionally removed, a beautiful
exhibition of water-cones, apparently ten or twelve feet high. These are
formed by the rapid accumulation and condensation of the falling water.
It pours down so rapidly and in such quantities that the water below, so
to speak, cannot run off fast enough, and it piles up as though it were
in a state of violent ebullition. These cones are constantly forming and
breaking. If any strong animal should fall upon one of these cones, as
upon a soft cushion, it might slide safely into the current below. The
dogs were, doubtless, fortunate enough to fall in this way, aided also
by the repulsion of the water from the rocks in the swift channel
through which they passed.