remains.

Not long after we came to a small trail leading to Fort Leavenworth,
distant but one day's journey. Tete Rouge here took leave of us. He was
anxious to go to the fort in order to receive payment for his valuable
military services. So he and his horse James, after bidding an
affectionate farewell, set out together, taking with them as much
provision as they could conveniently carry, including a large quantity
of brown sugar. On a cheerless rainy evening we came to our last
encamping ground. Some pigs belonging to a Shawnee farmer were grunting
and rooting at the edge of the grove.

"I wonder how fresh pork tastes," murmured one of the party, and more
than one voice murmured in response. The fiat went forth, "That pig
must die," and a rifle was leveled forthwith at the countenance of the
plumpest porker. Just then a wagon train, with some twenty Missourians,
came out from among the trees. The marksman suspended his aim, deeming
it inexpedient under the circumstances to consummate the deed of blood.

In the morning we made our toilet as well as circumstances would permit,
and that is saying but very little. In spite of the dreary rain of
yesterday, there never was a brighter and gayer autumnal morning than
that on which we returned to the settlements. We were passing through
the country of the half-civilized Shawanoes. It was a beautiful
alternation of fertile plains and groves, whose foliage was just tinged
with the hues of autumn, while close beneath them rested the neat
log-houses of the Indian farmers. Every field and meadow bespoke the
exuberant fertility of the soil. The maize stood rustling in the wind,
matured and dry, its shining yellow ears thrust out between the gaping
husks. Squashes and enormous yellow pumpkins lay basking in the sun in
the midst of their brown and shriveled leaves. Robins and blackbirds
flew about the fences; and everything in short betokened our near
approach to home and civilization. The forests that border on the
Missouri soon rose before us, and we entered the wide tract of shrubbery
which forms their outskirts. We had passed the same road on our outward
journey in the spring, but its aspect was totally changed. The young
wild apple trees, then flushed with their fragrant blossoms, were now
hung thickly with ruddy fruit. Tall grass flourished by the roadside in
place of the tender shoots just peeping from the warm and oozy soil. The
vines were laden with dark purple grapes, a