The same is true also of the
Genesee river above Mount Morris. Its course is marked by scenery rarely
surpassed in sublimity and grandeur. [Footnote: The High Banks, as they
are called, near Mt. Morris, and a similar formation, together with the
falls, near Portage, have attracted the attention, and are often visited
by the tourist.--J. N. H.]
The Indian as he followed his trail leading up along its banks, paused
often to listen to the thunder of its waterfalls, or to watch its course
while threading its way at the bottom of ravines, hundreds of feet beneath
the jutting point where he was standing. The territory marked by this
river was unsurpassed in the magnificence and beauty of its scenery, and
in the variety and richness of its soil; and the Indian who lived for the
most part in the open world, found here a home congenial to his spirit,
and he loved it. The white man saw and loved it too. But he loved it not
as the Indian, who looked upon it as already complete. The hills brought
him venison, the valleys corn, and the streams on every side abounded in
fish, the beautiful speckled trout, which fairly swarmed in all of these
waters. What could he want more? He loved it as it was; just as it came
from the forming hand of the Great Spirit.
The white man loved it for what he saw he could make of it; but how little
he thought his making, would mar the desirableness and beauty of the
Indian's home. He had already obtained of the Indian a title to all his
land lying on the east side of this river.
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