Nine miles from the Falls is the Tuscarora Reservation of four thousand acres. On this there are about three hundred and fifty Indians, mostly half-breeds, engaged in agricultural pursuits, which supply a portion of their necessities. The Indian women who are seen at the Falls in the summer season working and vending different articles of bead-work belong to this community. The Tuscaroras have not been more fortunate than others of their race in bargaining with their white brothers, and their lands are now stripped of the fine oak timber and valuable wood which stood upon it a few years since, and which was sold in large quantities at small prices. [Illustration: INDIAN WOMEN SELLING BEAD-WORK] As a compensation for this system of robbery we maintained a Christian missionary among them for a few years, and we boast that they are all Protestants. The resident missionary, a very worthy man, but a rather prosy preacher, always addressed his dusky audience in the English language, his thoughts being conveyed to them by an interpreter. For many years the interpreter was a native Tuscarora, a fine specimen of his race, six feet tall, with a tawny complexion, dark, flashing eyes, and a musical voice. It was interesting to note his manner while acting as interpreter for different clergymen. When interpreting the pious but humdrum utterances of the passionless missionary, he stood at the right side of the preacher, with his left elbow resting on one end of the modest pulpit, and delivered himself with an air that seemed to say, "It does not amount to much, but I give it to you as it is." But the change was magical when, as sometimes happened during the summer season, some eloquent preacher addressed the congregation. The natural courtesy of the interpreter led him, instead of putting his elbow on the pulpit, to stand a little to the rear of the strange preacher, respectfully waiting for his words. As the priest warmed into his subject the interpreter caught his spirit, straightened his fine figure to its full height, advanced to a line with the speaker, and as the theme was developed and the orator grew more and more eloquent, the excitement became contagious; the Indian entered fully into its spirit, his face glowed with animation, his eyes shone with a warmer light, his long arms were stretched forth, and with gestures energetic or subdued, but always graceful, and the varied inflections of his voice in harmony with the theme, he followed the discourse to the end. His audience, too, would become thoroughly aroused, and a little more animation would be infused into the plaintive tones of the closing hymn. One of the future attractions of Niagara, to sportsmen at least, may be the catching of California trout, twenty thousand of the fry having been put into the rapids by the writer in June, 1881.