One of the islands formerly called the Two Sisters is gone entirely; the other, which used to lie close to the Illinois shore, is now on the Missouri side, a mile away; it is joined solidly to the shore, and it takes a sharp eye to see where the seam is--but it is Illinois ground yet, and the people who live on it have to ferry themselves over and work the Illinois roads and pay Illinois taxes: singular state of things! Near the mouth of the river several islands were missing--washed away.
Cairo was still there--easily visible across the long, flat point upon whose further verge it stands; but we had to steam a long way around to get to it.

Night fell as we were going out of the 'Upper River' and meeting the floods of the Ohio.

We dashed along without anxiety; for the hidden rock which used to lie right in the way has moved up stream a long distance out of the channel; or rather, about one county has gone into the river from the Missouri point, and the Cairo point has 'made down' and added to its long tongue of territory correspondingly.

The Mississippi is a just and equitable river; it never tumbles one man's farm overboard without building a new farm just like it for that man's neighbor.

This keeps down hard feelings.
Going into Cairo, we came near killing a steamboat which paid no attention to our whistle and then tried to cross our bows.