ificant in a geological point of view, since the
bluffs or cliffs, bounding the great valley, and therefore older in
date, and which are from 50 to 250 feet in perpendicular height, consist
in great part of loam containing land, fluviatile, and lacustrine shells
of species still inhabiting the same country. (See fig. 23, p. 265.)

Before we take leave of the great delta, we may derive an instructive
lesson from the reflection that the new deposits already formed, or now
accumulating, whether marine or freshwater, must greatly resemble in
composition, and the general character of their organic remains, many
ancient strata, which enter largely into the earth's structure. Yet
there is no sudden revolution in progress, whether on the land or in the
waters, whether in the animate or the inanimate world. Notwithstanding
the excessive destruction of soil and uprooting of trees, the region
which yields a never-failing supply of drift-wood is densely clothed
with noble forests, and is almost unrivalled in its power of supporting
animal and vegetable life. In spite of the undermining of many a lofty
bluff, and the encroachments of the delta on the sea--in spite of the
earthquake, which rends and fissures the soil, or causes areas more than
sixty miles in length to sink down several yards in a few months, the
general features of the district remain unaltered, or are merely
undergoing a slow and insensible change. Herds of wild deer graze on the
pastures, or browse upon the trees; and if they diminish in number, it
is only where they give way to man and the domestic animals which follow
in his train. The bear, the wolf, the fox, the panther, and the
wild-cat, still maintain themselves in the fastnesses of the forests of
cypress and gum-tree. The racoon and the opossum are everywhere
abundant, while the musk-rat, otter, and mink still frequent the rivers
and lakes, and a few beavers and buffaloes have not yet been driven from
their ancient haunts. The waters teem with alligators, tortoises, and
fish, and their surface is covered with millions of migratory waterfowl,
which perform their annual voyage between the Canadian lakes and the
shores of the Mexican Gulf. The power of man begins to be sensibly felt,
and many parts of the wilderness to be replaced by towns, orchards, and
gardens. The gilded steamboats, like moving palaces, stem the force of
the current, or shoot rapidly down the descending stream, through the
solitudes of the fo