J no. S. Mann, Proprietor. VOLUME XXIV, NO. 33. The POTTER JOURNAL AKI) mays rriAi. FFBLISHBD EVERT TRIItAT AT COI'DERSPORT, PA. Ojfice in Olmsted Block.) 7 CRMS, * X'er Yea* is Advance. J do. 8. Mann, S. F. Hamilton, Pro]iri- tnr. Publisher. C. J. CURTIS. Attorney at law and District Attorney, Offlre "Tt MAIS St.. (o><*r th- }'■■< Ojjicc. C<>UDER>P HIT. PA., Solicits all basins*- prrfctfnlnc to hi* profession. Spe- i.vl attention pivcJi to collect xii*. . ox,. A.rnrß B MA** JOHN S MANN A SON. Attorneys at Law and fmireyancers Cl >l'li} R*l'< >RT. LA.. ("■ ,i*>rZit -• prutpt's atf-ndM to Arthur B. Mann, Cfe-nfra! iz-a ra c "*• Agent it >' :ry Pun. if. S S. GREENMAN, attorney at LAW, Olct r>VTT. roC.TEB'B " OBr.l CII'I>EKsrOXCT. PA. H.TFT" p. C. t.AKJ: IFKIE OLMSTED A LARRABEE. } — , N'KVS ANII OOTVSFI/VP.S AT I..VW Oficr in Block.) J .rnERSI'OKT. Pian'a. SETH LEWIS. Attorney at lam and lusnrance Agent. I.F.WISVILI.E. PA. A.M.REYNOLDS. DENTIST, FT F * 1 ,"!■ BLO B couiER>PORT. PA. EB *V e r House, B.nw> r , Kn iv. Propr's. | ( urner of *l!< <M> and FAST Streets, i 'VT. I'ENN A. ■-v utpiitpn piil t" ,V;r rnnvenirnro an<l r..r fort f iDiost.. I tt- • •• * -taliliij: ittariie i. l_P>A/FvHle Po + el, Comer of MAIN and NORTH Streets, LEAVISVILI.E. PA. I si~ •• h! m a'• in 2 :vt t.t< \n*L I PEARSALL & WEBSTER, PATNTEPvS. I "• st. above nEfoND, Fver Frenrh's siore. COLDER SPORT, PA. I pt * "ir. r,ui7'Ttir. OraiTilnsr. CaMminlne, w eir. w -lone wl:* and ' in a!l and gu tled . I *. . T H J. 5. MANN THOMPSON & MANN. or.!*- * !X Medicines, Rooks Mationerr. fUJ DCTS P'ISTC ets tmi B/PER. tC . < - vpr in Ml Third .St*.. '' FI)ERSPf)RT, PA. S. F. HAMILTON. BOOK AND JOB PRINTER • *r M tin Kid Third. a I" DEli SPOUT. PA. C. M. ALLEN. Nirjieal and Mechanical Dentist, LEWKVILLE. PA. I ' • r irr.nt.-'ti togi*. s:ui*Lv-ti<>ii. D. J. CROWELL. SINN'EM MWNING, <'aim-run CO., Px ■ 'TTsHiSGLt: VALI/ISP*. ,r ~ r l. Mac: ia<- asd 1 .rocril CbaU.ii. W' rk T T OS* ' • iiii Be a Will, Si <z % li . I tlcrorntivf & .f rrsro PAINTER, COUDERSPORT, PA. ■ v, s. t j'vfEß HAVt.IVi. ■*' neatness and dispatch. c-. 't >n guaranteed. 11 Vlv I*lll 1101 SE . litleiKitSi to. I>. H. NEKFK. ■ Carriage factory. T>ER<P< IRT. PENX'A. I - ■ I C. BREUNLE. >jm l! A ltlt I. E NVOltli, 1 'VDEHSpt )HT. PA. 1 '• ■ •"•* * N't.v *..' <" at ttie offlr* of Joi'B " •* * r& - i"- ;>rotap: atv^Ooa. THE POTTEE JOI'UNAL AND HEWS ITEM. [From IK morrst * Young America] ' Pranks Adventures. The lioys of Butterville had a cus tom on May-day of hanging baskets I on the door-knobs *.f their neighbors' houses. Perhaps tlie girls sometimes did the same; but 1 do not mean to I tell of them this time, j Quite naturally, each boy intended , to hang his basket at the house of the prettiest girl he knew of: yet it curi ously happened that one was hung at almost every door in the village. I understand this to prove that boys ditfer in their opinions about beauty, " which is very tortunate, for it is when they scree perfectly in regard . to the beauty of any little Mi<s that they are apt to quarrel most vio lently. It is not surprising that Frank the Frolicsome should fall into this May day custom a> soon as he grew d.ig j enough; but I su-pect you will won der when I tell you that he fell in love with an old maid. He did, actually! Now Frank had two baskets to hang, made by himself and his little sister Nettie. They were formed of bright-colored paper, skillfully joined iand interwoven; but one was very handsome and perfumed beautifully. M ell; May-day caine and Maying parties searclie l wood and field for the early flowers; the merry tones of children rose from manv a snnnv nook and there were pleasant greet ing- of older ]•<■ pie along the village st re* t. But May-day ended, as do oth. r days; and darkness overspread the sc*ne. Yet along the streets little figures passed stealthily: and there was a ringing of door-hells, rapid flights and pursuits, with tu mult- of laughter when a party wa.- oaught. or wheij a band of bidden girl- lint theii i .ishliul gallants at the tltreshold. "I won-ier if she will come to the loor," murmured Frank, as he trot ted along with a pair of baskets fiut tt-i iiig on (ii-rn. ID ran ujj tilt* walk and hung one of the baskets on tee door-knob, listening a moment to a sound of merry laughter inside; * then lie rang the bell ami hd in-hind the shrubbery.from whence he meant to dart forward and claim a ki-- from hi- charmer, -hould she step out to look for her secret admirer. -There, pshaw—now I say it's a shame!" muttered Frank a minute ' later. The "shame" v. as that a great boy c-me to the door, ran out to the side walk, looked up and down the stre t as far as the darkness would permit, i tiien went in, -winging the precious basket very carelessly. But Frank came <>rf without being discovered: though nothing but sud den dodging saved him. He listened a moment and heard a sneeze; an ominous -ilenee followed, then an other sneeze, and another, and an other! a queer reception for a beauti ful May-basket, truly. Frank turned sorrowfully away with the remaining basket on his arm. crossing the street now and then to avoid approaching footsteps. Now. Frank must have been very unlike you and me if some of the day's ramble did not linger in hm memory—a trim little figure in a ; -nug cloak and jaunty hat, for in stance; the same that had often tripped by his side,the bright brown eyes, pinky cheeks and red lips, teeth like strings of snowberries; and the face seemed ail one rosy smile as he brought handful- of the arbutus flow ers and bright red eheckerberries. or laughed merrily as he went oil' in f some agile somerset or other gambol expressive of Ids intense delight. Something lightened his spirit-, f r his stejis quickened and a jolly little quirk of a whistle flew out from his lips; but this died away as lie approached a large old yellow house at the end of the village. "Oh. bother! why don't they have a door-knob like somebody!'" mut tered Frank, as he tried in vain to make the other basket stay on the handle of the door. Not succeeding, be turned to the window and hitched 'the slimsy paper to the blind-fasten ing on the window-stool; then, after rattling the sash loudly, lie ran • away. The big dog. which was shut up in [ the house, rushed to the window as it COUDERSPORT, PA., FRIDAY, APRIL 25, 187:}. he would come right through, barking tremendously. Loud, shrill outcries of '"Thieves," "Robbers," "Stubby, bite'em!" rang through the house, lights flashed, and curious shadows of the frightened inmates fell upon the thin curtains at the windows. : Frank htd stopped at a li.tie dis tance and was now clapping his hands in glee at the tumult he had , raised. But the affair put on a new phase; i for the door opened and the dog was out, a big. black animal with gleam ing teeth and savage growl; and Frank took to his heels in an instant. But the dog was on bis track; and , in another moment Frank had de cided that his only place of safety was in a tree. The orchard was only just over the fence: and Frank was ' over it and up a tree in a jiffy, with the dog close after. Now here was an apple-tree with a boy at the top for fruit and a dog at the bottom anxious to bite it. The situation was not quite satisfactory, even to such a frolicsome fellow a* Frank. It looked very much as if this big apple would have to sty on the tret- all night if it did not get to nodding and drop off: and i either occurrence was pleasant to think of. Frank didn't like to be barked at., either; and he tore off thin scales of birk and showered them down in the log's eyes and,red, gleaming mouth. But the bark from the top did not stop the baik at the bottom—not in the least. A train there was a change of pha-t. I and this was the face of a b y ; and the bands belonging to this face had a gun in them. Frank might now have been re lieved. had he not been a- afraid ol 1 icing fund out as he was of the log; for in this house dwelt Miss, 15ii<M-. the village scboolmarm; and , it was for her that he had hung tin basket. Now- Mi-s Briers had tan rht school a great many year- and though nv st "fthn biWrt-nilWiKi'ither.-licstill re- j maiued -choolmarm and Miss Brier-, j Being unwilling to use the rod in correcting her pupils, she relied chiefly on scolding, stamping hei f ot and sour look*, and thus made a jierjietual Iright of herself. There ' fore she received so few tokens of regard that even the ridiculous little ■ blue-and-yellow intended f u hr might have quite delighted her. bad not Frank put into it a quantity of the finc-t. drie-t. sneezie.-t sort ol snuff; and this was why he was in -u<-h terror of ls-ing caught. "1 see him!" shouted back the boy with the :ruii to tiie f *lk at the 1 house. "IVell. fire then; and look out lie don't tuke at ye." None knew wheth er the creature who had broken their -lumbers and disturbed their peace, was cat, monkey or man : but the caution suited any of them. Frank meditated a desjierate deed. He scrambled out to the end of tin longest branch and jumped - ff, light ing upon a high fence which ran alonir a few yards farther to a low shed that leaned against the kirn. The dog was after liim; and Frank could hardly keep out of the reach of his teeth while scrambling along the top. Climbing the shed, he quickly made his way to one of the i barn windows, pushed up the sash and i made ready to enter. The dog ran : wildly about with fierce growls; and ' fearing the boy with the gun might catch sight of him and fire. Frank - slipped through the window and rested upon a l>eam which he had i felt out in the darkness, i And Low dense that darkness was.; He could set nothing but the shadows . of things—and they muced. too. Perhaps he did not sit steadily on i the beam; lor lie otu-n felt as if he - was going to fall over. And Lit • could not see at all ou what he might -trike; but he could hear the heavy - breathing of the cattle below him. . and the rattling of their horns and wooden bows against the stanchions. "What if 1 should tumble down . among them C The very thought : was so startling that it came nigh - oversetting him the moment it flashed ■ through his mind. i He now heard some one clamber ing up the shed right in his track; i and, slipping under the tieam, Ire beid f on w Ith hi 6 hands while he reached with his toes to touch bottom. He could not find any, neither could he lift himself up again; and after a few moments, his fingers slipped, and down he fell. But he struck on soft hay and was not hurt in the least. From this he quickly reached the barn floor, where the darkne-s hid him from the boy. who w as now looking in through the open window. Suddenly the rays of a lantern flashed in bis face through the cracks. It came directly toward the barn and Frank just hopj>ed into the sheep pen, thinking to hide himself among the gentle ewes and lambs of the flock. To his dismay they drew away from him, and left him exposed in the centre of the pen. A - he sought the door of the fold he beard some thing following with spiteful step, and turned back—just in time for the head of the charging ram to hit him in the midst. He felt, first, that the breath was quite knocked out of him, then tlieie was a sensation of goii g many feet backward in the air. and next, a great crashing blow from a beam against the top and back of his head. And that was the last he knew- until lie found himself in an old-fashioned room before an ojk-u fire. Some per son was chafing his temples, and there was a very bail ache between tnem and a very painful spot on the back of hi* head. He gave a sudden -tart as lie caught sight <>f the face of hi- nurse. At as that Mi-- Briers? There was a r, -euibla". -, -uiviv : hut a 10-ik of kindness was in thi faee that he had never seen in the face of Mis- l>ri< r-, the school ma nn: and as s"vn as the h.dv perceived that In. had come to hi- - n.-c- ajain. her face lighted' Tip with joy until -he -eetned really lnautiful. lli- con-cieiiee reproached him now for the trick of tlie May basket. nd he wondered if she had ye". T*u t . i it. But there was t' e V -k-t -v. inking | fium the high p"-t of a chair—a' lnautiful basket f -killfulh woven c dors, fringed with delicate ti-sue. and scented with enoiee jierfume! the very basket he bad prepared with much labor and such bright atiti -ioatioii- for the little maiden whos bona he had visited first. The truth now dawned upon b!s mind. He had hung the homely bas ket f>r Lis favorite—the old maid had got the handsome one! lie un derstood those sneezes now; yet j there was one satisfaction he had— he knew that the sufferer w as not the little maiden but her brother Pick. But how could he explain it and pacify her? What would she think of him? Would she ever -jR-sk to ; him again? Ili- face wore a look of distrcs-. that made Mi-s Briers inquire more anxiously alxmt his bruises and hover nigh him with kinder devo tion. Frank now wondered that he ever saw am thing in her face to dislike, and he resolved that if he hung a May-basket for her asrnin it should lie of the be-t. And he also resolved that lie would never join with others to tease or trouble her again. In a little while he was in a condi tion to go home. The family had r tired to rest long before; but ex jiecting that be would on this occa sion lx- a little late, a door was left unfastened for him and 3 light burn ing. In the morning the family discov ered his bruises and he was obliged to explain, but on!\ so far a- to -a_\ that he fell against some timber, which was strictly true. And Miss Briers would suffer none of her fami ly to tell what hap}>ened May-night at their house: so the story never got about much. But still Frank was in great trouble: and he thought that there wa- no one who could help him out of it so well as his mother, therefore he told her all about his adventures on that evening. • He was quite right. She soon made peace between Frank and the little Miss with the brown eyes, who received, as an atonement for the mistake in the baskets, a beautiful ring that exactly fitted the finger on which slit- wanted to wear it. Finally Frank came to consider the events of this day as very fortun- ; ate alter ail, for be had found out the good and pleasant side of Mi>s Briers and he kept on that side ever after. The Queen and Natives of Tahiti. Queen Poinare iv. is a pleasant looking woman, fifty-seveu years of age. but so young in appearance that she might lie taken for forty. She is a most estimable person and very anxious, by every means in her pow er. to insure the welfare of her j>eo ple. She is very well informed, though she seldom reads anv other book but her Bible. She is fond of discussing intricate questions of the ology with her maids of honor, who frequently fall asleep during theyre lft-tinri,< delivered late late in the eve ning. but her Majesty will go on talking all the same and gently rt raind them in the morning of their want of attention. She i* extremely joml natured and irreatlv beloved by all her subject*. The Prince f'on sort has been and is -till a remark lily handsome man, tall and some what stout. The young princes, too, art- fine-looking men and very pres entable, but one of them indulges t<> execs* in -trong drink and i* said at times to tnat unkindly his wife, who is Queen of Ruiatea, a gentle, kind hearted creature of tic*-" prepossess ing appearance. The natives, who are evidently of the same race s- the New Zealaisler- and the Sandwich I-hinders, arc -njcrior to the latter in size an i bearing: but the Maorq from a residence of five centuries in a c>ld *r climate, has a rough, r and Larder appc .ranee. Tin Tahitians wore n.'t distinguished for cruelty even in their savage state; tliev are cheerful and good matured, mild and gentle, with none of those harsh cha racteristics which mark other i-land ei *: t 5 cy are easily led either to good or evil; <b> not possess much firmness • >r d< cifcion < >f character but are gen run-, kind ! . arte i ami thoroughly amiable; and if it were not for the Imd hittm n . - ) \ vhr-li ai\ sur rounded would be a much more moral jw ople than tin v are. Thevslwajs had the character of being lionel; even in old heathen times the tnpu or rdhut was very effectual in prevent ing all kind- of robbery, for if they ■ broke the rahui they supposed the gods would be offended with them. The men are mostly tall, with wall devulopcd chests and mu-vlc*. The women, w ho are al.-o tall, have a gen -1 er.-ill\ soft contour and incline to ward- embonpoint, which increase* with age. The feature- of ljoth sexes are ver\ pleasing and their smile and add re.-* ver\ engaging. Their gait alsoe*p< dully when -ten from behind, is bold, stately and dignified and the_\ have something majestic in their gen eral K a ring. They are remarkably cleanly in their habit*, always neat and tidy in their dress an 1 p ide tliemselve* on apjiearing well. Their usual saluta tion is I" ran a. "May you ix* happy," which is pronounced almost like a Philander'* "Air anner." The men generally wear their hair-hurt. some times grow a inou*tachc but seldom a l.ieard. Their ordinary costume coiisi-ts of a piece of printed calico of most tell ingdesign<generally indigoaud white or red and white), which is called a ixirru; it is wound round the body and reaches from the waist to tin. ankle. Oier this they wear a shirt, either -now-white, orange, pale green or stripe I. over the parcu. Shoes and stocking* are -eldoin used except by the chiefs aud principal jx-ople on high occasions. Panama and other broad-brimmed hats are extenrively wora. It is difficult to describe the dress of the ladies. Their hair is v ery reat . ij parted from front to back and plait ed behind into two tresses of mode rate length; they always trim the cud*, ensuring thereby a rich growth, which is enhanced by a prufu-ioD of eocoanut oil scented with essence of sandal wool. Both sexes are very fund of wearing flow ers and also cor onets (or wreaths) of leaves and plait ed straw or bark trimmed with red seeds, the variety of which ornament is indescribable. Some of these cor onets are designed and executed with a taste that would be admired iu : nv salon in Paris or London. The usual drees con-ists of a loose morniDg gown exactly the sliajx- aud cut ola French lady's jr ionou-, made of all sorts of material, generally muslin <f some showv color, white, however, being the favorite. It i- so thiri and gauzy that it shows lieneatli it the white tinder-garments. Like the men they seldom wear shoes or -tocking bnt, notwithstanding this, they have the smallest and prettiest feet imagin able Churchman 'a Shilling Maya j zir,e. \ Frt-nt I'ojiular Monthly.} River and Lake Terraces. Travelers along the riv r-valleysof New Knglaud and in other sect it in* of our Northern States, will observe that the banks in many place- rise by ' a series of terraces, which at a dis tance resemble the steps of an amphi theatre. Caive.l with singular uni formity ujion the slope*, they are everywhere a striking and beautiful feature of the*e most pieUuvsque aid beautiful landscajx-*. In the valleys of the Connecticut, Merriinac, St. Lawrence, Kenneliee, Hudson and innumerable other .stream*, these levels have La-en utilized as site* for village*, county -seat*, forest and cu - tivation. Northampton, lirattleboro and Springfield are built on terrace*: and part of the charming village of North C'ouway, at the gate of the White Mountain*, stands upon a sim ilar level. I >artmouth College i upon an elevated torn ce. Tcrrac 4 '* occur ou both side* of the Niagara River and on the east side four levels are di-scri'-ed, the highest being 33 feet alve the top of the American Fall. They occur also on the Hudson Highland* at Cornw:,!l I*o feet and at Cozz : * 130 feet abovi- tide level. The Catskill M<mn tain- are fringed with terraces almost to th*ir summits; and on the ea-t *iie of the Hudson, at Allny, eight di.-tinet levil- are pa—ol oil the line of the Boston and Albany Railway Ik-fore reaching the summit station, j On Iloosac Mountain is a terrace I*l3 feet ..I'oVe the b-vel of the *ea. and near it an ancient lieuc'u 2'u feet higher. They (-ecur at Quel.n-c suo f-<-t; at Montreal 41*0 feet; and on the Gcne-ee River 141 "* feet alove the ocean level. But terraces abound on lake-mar gins with the *sme distiii'-tues- a- ou the Lank- <>f river-. Prof. Agassiz eouiite*! fifteen ou tin shore of Lake Suj erior and t!:* writer counted *ix. lieautifully defined, at Portage Lake. Visitor- at Watkins Glen may notice terraces sculptured on the amphithe atre of hills at the Lea l of Seneca Lake, whose geological history i contcuij'orary with that of the great gorge, the object of their v i-it. In Northern I tab lake-terraecs are found, according to Hay den, nearly a mile aliove the e>cean and on island* iu Barrow V .Strait* they occur at l<in> feet elevation. Ou some e-f the great Western prairies terrace* extend like vast coast -lines bounding the plain. Nor are they confined to North America. They have been noticed on the slope* of the Ural and Altai Mountains, around the Dead Bea. on the bank* of the River Jordan, on the mountain-side* iu the Great Pa- Lara. and on the banks of the Nile above the first cataract. The ocean, too, liaa its terrace*. Darw in obscrv e-1 that around Pata gonia the ocean Lad eaten deep into the rocky coa-t "a scries of ste]sl:k plains.*' Roads are carried up the Cordillera on elevated terraces to a height of '.MXM> feet. These formations, so widely dis 'tributed and so uniform in their as pects, have a u imjortaut geological significance. They are evidently among the latest results of the dy namic agents which have modified, and are still modifying, the surface of the glotx. Th-ist- along the hanks of rivers have been formed during ' the erosion <>f the valleys. Their ' historv, therefore, begins with the development of th" present river-sys tem aud comprises what is known in geology as the " Terrace Ejioch." They are mjst abundant and perfect in the drift latitudes—that is. w here the continental floors are deeply coh ered by the waste and of the Glacial Period, w-hieh closely preced ed tuat of the Terraces. If we ex amine the valley cf a gently-flowing S. F. Hamilton, Pub'ieht r. S 1.15 A YEAR river, we may study :tll tlu* process*-* by which it s formed and step-like terraces distributed skmg bank*. There i* the channel along which the stream is flowing. Ry the aide of it. at intervals, are verdure-cover ed meadows and deposits of shingle and sand, overflowed during periods of raiu and freshet. These constitute what may be termed the river-flats or flood-plain*. Something is added ;to it during each overflow. Mean while the river-channel is deepening bv the wearing action of the current and transportation of the materials of it- bed. At length the waters are discharged along the channel and no longer overflow the flood-plains, which become at once a terrace, the htst formed the newest of the series, the old st of which inny be more than a thousand feet up the bank. The new ly - nade terrace uow really forms the bank or banks of the stream, and is itself slowly worn ftwav an<t distributed elsewhere by the abrasion of annual freshets. Portions of it may thu- disappear but other portions remain. It is obvious that terrac -forma • tions occur in greatest jjerfection where the stream is not very rapid. Where it flows as a torrent a flood ; plain or delta may form only at its f mouth. Sometimes, however, a swift stream i- checked by the accumula . tion of ifrbrif or by rocky gorges, i forming lake-like ba>ins around which terrace-formations occur with great uniformity and beauty. The Con necticut River is I.oS'J feet higher at it- source than at it- mouth; and, ac cording to Prof. Hitchcock's excel lent report on the Surface Geology 1 of New England, twenty-two such ; basins or levels occur in it.- descent. It is evident, as we have observed, t that the highest terrace of a series is : the one first formed and the oldest, t but when formed was equally, with the last one, the flats or flood-plain of the river; whence it follows that the river was then much higher, as regards the general level of the land, than row. Its present deep valley wa- not excavated, but it by no I means follows that the river was any , higher as regards the level of the sea. A change of level has. in le d, taken place, but it has been of the land, not of the ocean. No truth iu geology is i>etter established than this }erj>et ual oscillation ot the crust of the globe and from the unchanging ocean-level i- measured the extent of the movement. The process by which a river-val ley is excavated and terraces formed ujx.n its banks is directly connected wite this elevation of the land. In deed. it could occur only during a jieriod of ekvution and nmy have commenced with the emergence of the land a!ove the waters, fur then .would begin the flowing of streams anal their concentration into larger ones, forming at last our magnificent , system of mers. During a period of subsidence, however, the rivers disap]ear a- their valley* are filled i and the land is overflowed by the in [ vading ocean. Nor is proof wanting ; of subiuergeo -e of a very large por i tiou of this continent, especially that ! which is north of the fortieth paral . lei. directly follow ing the Olacial and preceding the Terrace Epoch; and nowhere is that fact more apparent . than in New England. The occurrence of ancient beaches , fd>ve the terr.ice* on Ifoosac Moun tain ami among the White and <ireeu Mountain- 2200 an I 2100 feet ab >ve l the ocean, proves its former presence 'and the movement of its currents and waves. ! At that period the eite of the pres ent river was the bottom of an oeeain It was during the progress of that period <>f continental depression and submergence that the glacial drift modified and re-distributed, forming enormous de{>osit* fiiiing old basins and river-valleys, so that when the land emerged from the wa ters it was comparatively level, a few mountain-peaks risiuu above the {Jain. It i- at th: v point, af- we have seen that the present river-system wiui its terraced valleys l*-giu and the phe nomena way occur in the following order: 1. Elevated beaches, indicating ancient sea-shores. i. The highest river-terra***.
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