I believe in my soul, it was the Indian squaw that went over the Falls in the canoe, or the crazy Englisher, that tried to jump across it.
"'Oh creation, how cold it was! The moment that spirit rose, mine fell, and I actilly thought I should have dropt lumpus, I was so skeered.

Give me your hand, said Ghost, for I didn't see nothin' but a kinder dark shadow.

Give me your hand.

I think it must ha' been the squaw, for it begged for all the world, jist like an Indgian.

I'd see you hanged fust, said I; I wouldn't touch that are dead tacky hand o' yourn' for half a million o' hard dollars, cash down without any ragged eends; and with that, I turned to run out, but Lord love you I couldn't run.