It remains a sublime object of contemplation. The
noble forest still rises along its banks. But its
character of calm magnificence, that so delighted
the eye above, is seen no more.

The bosom ofthe river is covered with prodi-
gious boils, or swells, that rise with a whirling
motion, and a convex surface, two or three rods
in diameter, and no inconsiderable noise, whirling
a boat imperceptibly from its track. In its course,
accidental circumstances shift the impetus of its
current, and propel it upon the point of an island
bend or sandbars. In these instances, it tears up
the islands, removes the sandbars, and sweeps
away the tender, alluvial soil of the bends, with
all their trees, and deposites the spoils in another
place. At the season of high water, nothing is
more familiar to the ear of the people on the river,
than the deep crash of a land-slip, in which larg-
er or smaller masses of the soil on the banks, with
all the trees, are plunged into the stream. The
circumstances that change the aspect and current
of the river, are denominated, in the vocabulary
of the watermen, chutes, races, chains, sawyers,
planters, points of islands, wreck heaps and cy-
press bends. The divinity most frequently in-
voked by boatmen, seems to have imparted his
name oftener than any other to the dangerous pla-
eesalongthe river. The xe2x80x98Devil’s’ race paths,tea-ta-
ble, oven, &c. are places of difficult or hazardous
navigation, that frequently occur. They are se-
rious impediments to the navigation of this noble
stream. Such is its character from Missouri to
the Balize ; a wild, furious, whirling river,xe2x80x94nev-
er navigated safely, except with great caution.
On the immense wreck heaps, where masses of
logs, like considerable hills, are piled together, the
numerous wrecks of boats, iying on their sides and
summits, sufficiently attest the character of the
river, and remain standing mementos to caution.
Boats propelled by steam power, which can be
changed in a moment, to reverse the impulse and
direction ofthe boat, are exactly calculated to ob-
viate the dangers of this river.

No person, who descends this river for the first
time, receives clear and adequate ideas of its
grandeur, and the amount of water which' it car-
ries. If it be in the spring, when the river below
the mouth ofthe Ohio is generally over its banks,
although the sheet of water that is making its
way to the gulf is, perhaps, thirty miles wide, yet
finding its way through deep forests and swamps
that conceal all from the eye, no expanse of wa-
ter is seen, but the width, that is curved out be-
tween the outline of woods on either bank ; and
it seldom exceeds,and oftener falls short of a mile.
But when he sees, in descending from the falls of
St. Anthony, that it swallows up one river after
another, with mouths, as wide as itself, without
affecting its width at all; when he sees it receiv-
ing in succession the mighty Missouri, the broad
Ohio St. Francis, White, Arkansas, and Red
rivers all of them of great depth, length and vol-
ume of water; when he sees this mighty river
absorbing them all and retaining a volume, appar-
ently unchanged,xe2x80x94he begins to estimate rightly
the increasing depths of current, that must roll on
in its deep channel to the sea. Carried out of
the Balize, and sailing with a good breeze foi
hours, he sees nothing on any side, but the white
and turbid waters of the Mississippi, long after he
is out of sight of land.

From its source to the falls of St. Anthony, it
runs alternately through wild rice lakes and
swamjis by limestone bluffs and craggy hills;

occasionally through deep pine forests, and beat,
tiful prairies ; and the tenants on its borders are
elk, buffaloes, bears and deer, and Ihe savages
that pursue them. In this distance, there is no
a civilized inhabitant on its shores, if we except
the establishments of Indian traders, and a gar-
rison of the United States. Buffaloes are seldom
seen below these falls. Its alluvions become
wide, fertile, and for the most part, heavily tim
bered. Like the Ohio, its bottoms and bluffs gen-
erally alternate. Its broad and placid current is
often embarassed with islands, which are gener
ally rich alluvial lands, often containing from'
five hundred to a thousand acres, and abounding
with wild turkeys and other small game. From
100 m. above the mouth of the Missouri,
it would be difficult for us to convey an idea of the
beauty of the prairies, skirting this noble river.
They are a perfect level; and are in summer cov
ered with a luxuriant growth of grass and flowers
without a tree or bush.

Below the mouth of the Ohio, in the season ol
inundation, to an observing spectator a very strik-
ing spectacle is presented. The river sweeps along
in curves, or sections of circles, of an extent from
six to twelve miles, measured from point to point.
The sheet of water, that is visible between the
forests on either side, is a mile wide. On a calm
spring morning, and under a bright sun, it shines,
like a mass of burnished silver. Its edges are
distinctly marked by a magnificent outline of cot-
ton wood trees, generally of great size, and at this
time of the year, of the brightest verdure. On
the convex, or bar side of the bend, there is ger
erally a vigorous growth of willows, or voting
cotton wood trees, of such astonishing regularity
of appearance, that it always seems to the in-
experienced spectator, a work of art. The water
stands among these trees, from ten to fifteen feet
in height. Those brilliant creatures the black
and red bird, flit among these young groves, that
are inundated to half their height. Nature is
carrying on her most vigorous efforts of vegetation
below. If there be wind or storm, the descending
flat andxe2x80x98keel boats immediately make for these
groves, and plunge fearlessly, with all the head-
way they can command, among the trees.
Should they be of half the size of the human
body, struck fifteen feet from the ground, they
readily bend before even a frail boat.xe2x80x94You de-
scend the whole distance of a thousand miles to
New Orleans, landing at night in fifteen feet
water among the trees; but, probably, in no in-
stance within twenty miles of the real shore,
which is the bluff. The whole spectacle is that
of a vast and magnificent forest, emerging from a
lake, with its waters, indeed, in a thousand
places in descending motion.

One of the most striking peculiarities of this
river, and of all its lower tributaries, is the uni-
formity of its meanders, called in the phrase
of the country, its xe2x80x98 points and bends.’ In
many instances these curves are described
with a precision, with which they would have
been marked off by the sweep of a compass.
The river sweeps round, perhaps the half of a
circle, and is precipitated from the point, in a
current diagonally across its own channel, to
another curve of the same regularity upon the
opposite shore. In the bend is the deepest chan-
nel, the heaviest movement of waters, and what
is called the thread of the current. Between this
thread and the shore, there are generally counter
currents, or eddies; and in the crumbling and