The river was high from frequent rains in the upper country, and its surface was about one foot lower than the top of the verdant banks. Our cabin windows were frequently brushed by the branches and clustering foliage of the cotton-wood trees; the sugar-maple, and the sycamore, were putting forth their early leaves at a short distance in the background, and one dense mass of heavy timber covered the picturesque bluffs to their very summit. The day was pleasant, and I sat almost constantly upon the highest or "hurricane" deck, enjoying a fine prospect of the noble river and its shores. During the following night we continued our ascending course, and early on Sunday morning we were at the foot of the "Des Moines Rapids," with Illinois on the right hand, and Iowa on the left. The rapids prevent the passage of steam-boats during the greater part of the year, on account of the shallowness of the water and the strength of the current. As the river was now full, we experienced no difficulty, and slowly made our way against a stream running perhaps seven miles an hour. The Mississippi is here about a mile and a half in width, and forms a beautiful curve. On the western side were a number of new houses with gardens neatly fenced, and occupied, I was told, by Mormon emigrants who had recently arrived. Farther onward the bluffs of Iowa rose boldly from the water's edge, while on the Illinois or eastern side, as the steamer gradually came round the curve, the Mormon city opened upon my view. At length, Nauvoo in all its "latter-day glory" lay before me. The landing-place being difficult of access from the rapidity of the current, the steamer took me to Montrose immediately opposite, and touching for a moment, while I stepped on shore, in the next moment was again ploughing the descending waters.