He gave me the oil-cloths, and I donned them and carefully descended into the famous Cave of the Winds, and stood on the frail plank walk, between the thundering torrent and the black, rocky wall over which it tumbled. As I began to descend, I felt as though I was leaving the face of the earth for ever; but who can describe my emotions as I stood at the very heels of the raving and raging cataract? Who shall describe that awful place? It exceeded all the wild storms I had ever dreamed of. The spray dashed into my face, and fairly blinded me; while the fierce, unceasing wind rushed violently upon me from all sides, took the very breath from me, and seemed about to snatch me up from the frail plank on which I stood, and hurl me under the mighty torrent! It was wildly, fearfully bewildering. The wind and spray and the roar of the cataract fairly took away from me the senses of sight and hearing; I was conscious that the water had thrust its way beneath my water-proof clothes, and that I was wet all over, but could not feel the dampness; I could scarcely command my mind so as to think or reason. I scarcely knew whether I felt, thought, or was conscious at all, so absorbed were all my faculties in that eternal storm. I fancy that, if one were to remain there long, he would lose all consciousness, sink prostrate, tumble from the walk, plunge under the wild torrent, and be no more. On returning to the face of the earth again, and removing my water-proof clothes, I realized how wet I was. I fancied it would not help my cough very much, but although I got wringing wet four different times during the few days of my sojourn at Niagara, it never injured me: which is a strong point in favor of the water-cure system; _i. e._, if it don’t cure, it, at least, is not quite certain to kill. “What is your charge?” I asked of the proprietor. “Nothing at all,” was the reply. “We charge visitors two dollars each when we attend them through the whole walk; but, under the circumstances, we won’t charge you any thing.” “I am willing to pay, if——” “No, no; not a cent. If any one ought to pay, I ought to pay you ten dollars for the privilege of seeing you go down there. You are the first and only one-legged man that ever ventured into the Cave of the Winds.” I returned to my hotel, took a lemonade, changed my clothes, imbibed another lemonade, took dinner, then another lemonade, and was about to start for the river again, when the host said: “Are you going to see Leslie walk the rope?” “Walk the rope? Where?” I queried. “Just below the railroad bridge—the large suspension bridge, two miles below.” “At what time?” “Four o’clock. You will have an hour or two yet to get there.” “I will go, by all means,” I said, much delighted at this opportunity. “I thank you for mentioning it.”