Finding no Indians living at the Falls, he suggests a probable reason therefor: "I have often heard talk of the Cataracts of the Nile, which make people deaf that live near them. I know not if the Iroquois who formerly lived near this fall * * * withdrew themselves from its neighborhood lest they should likewise become deaf, or out of the continual fear they were in of the rattlesnakes, which are very common in this place. * * * Be it as it will, these dangerous creatures are to be met with as far as the Lake Frontenac [Ontario], on the south side; and it is reasonable to presume that the horrid noise of the Fall and the fear of these poisonous serpents might oblige the savages to seek out a more commodious habitation." In the view of the Falls accompanying his description, a large rock is represented as standing on the edge of the Table Rock. This rock is mentioned by Kalm, a Swedish naturalist, who visited the Falls in 1750, as having disappeared a few years before that date. Father Hennepin's reference to the animals drawn into the current and going over the Falls, and to the rattlesnakes, indicates unmistakably his previous acquaintance with Father Gallinées's narrative.
Baron La Hontan's description of the Falls--M. Charlevoix's letter to Madame Maintenon--Number of the Falls--Geological indications--Great projection of the rock in Father Hennepin's time--Cave of the Winds--Rainbows.
Even more exaggerated than Father Hennepin's is the next account of the Falls which has come down to us, and which was written by Baron La Hontan, in the autumn of 1687. Fear of an attack from the Iroquois, the relentless enemies of the French, made his visit short and unsatisfactory. He says: "As for the water-fall of Niagara, 'tis seven or eight hundred feet high, and half a league wide. Toward the middle of it we descry an island, that leans toward the precipice, as if it were ready to fall." Concerning the beasts and fish drawn over the precipice, he says they "serve for food" for the Iroquois, who "take 'em out of the water with their canoes"; and also that "between the surface of the water, that shelves off prodigiously, and the foot of the precipice, three men may cross in abreast, without further damage than a sprinkling of some few drops of water." Father Hennepin, it will be remembered, makes this space broad enough for four coaches, instead of three men.