THE MISSISSIPPI. 99 



cay like the trees of a " raft : " and do all this with the 

 politeness of a " sawyer" — and with principles unyield- 

 ing as a " snag." 



The forests that line the banks of the Mississippi, 

 and supply, without any apparent decrease, the vast 

 masses of timber that in such varied combinations 

 every where meet the eye, are themselves worth}' o£ the 

 river which they adorn. 



Go into the primitive forests at noonday, and how- 

 ever fiercely the sun may shine, you will find yourself 

 enveloped in gloom. Gigantic trees obstruct your path- 

 way, and as you cast your eyes upward, your head grows 

 dizzy with their height. Here, too, are to be seen dead 

 trunks, shorn of their limbs, and whitening in the blasts, 

 that are as mighty in their size as the pillars of Hercu- 

 les. Grape-vines larger than your body will, for some 

 distance, creep along the ground, and then suddenly 

 spring a hundred feet into the air, grasp some patriarch 

 of the forest in its folds, crush, mutilate, and destroy it ; 

 and then, as if to make amends for the injury, throw over 

 its deadening work the brightest green, the richest fo- 

 liage, filled with fragrance, and the clustering grape. 

 On the top of these aspiring trees, the squirrel is beyond 

 the gunshot reach of the hunter. 



Upon the ground are long piles of crumbling mould, 

 distinguished from the earth around them by their nu- 

 merous and variegated flowers. These immense piles, 

 higher in places than your head, are but tlie ren»ains of 



