nd the slender twigs of the
maple, then tasseled with their clusters of small red flowers, now
hung out a gorgeous display of leaves stained by the frost with burning
crimson. On every side we saw the tokens of maturity and decay where
all had before been fresh and beautiful. We entered the forest, and
ourselves and our horses were checkered, as we passed along, by the
bright spots of sunlight that fell between the opening boughs. On either
side the dark rich masses of foliage almost excluded the sun, though
here and there its rays could find their way down, striking through the
broad leaves and lighting them with a pure transparent green. Squirrels
barked at us from the trees; coveys of young partridges ran rustling
over the leaves below, and the golden oriole, the blue jay, and the
flaming red-bird darted among the shadowy branches. We hailed these
sights and sounds of beauty by no means with an unmingled pleasure.
Many and powerful as were the attractions which drew us toward the
settlements, we looked back even at that moment with an eager longing
toward the wilderness of prairies and mountains behind us. For myself I
had suffered more that summer from illness than ever before in my life,
and yet to this hour I cannot recall those savage scenes and savage men
without a strong desire again to visit them.

At length, for the first time during about half a year, we saw the roof
of a white man's dwelling between the opening trees. A few moments after
we were riding over the miserable log bridge that leads into the center
of Westport. Westport had beheld strange scenes, but a rougher looking
troop than ours, with our worn equipments and broken-down horses, was
never seen even there. We passed the well-remembered tavern, Boone's
grocery and old Vogel's dram shop, and encamped on a meadow beyond.
Here we were soon visited by a number of people who came to purchase our
horses and equipage. This matter disposed of, we hired a wagon and drove
on to Kansas Landing. Here we were again received under the hospitable
roof of our old friend Colonel Chick, and seated on his porch we looked
down once more on the eddies of the Missouri.

Delorier made his appearance in the morning, strangely transformed by
the assistance of a hat, a coat, and a razor. His little log-house was
among the woods not far off. It seemed he had meditated giving a ball
on the occasion of his return, and had consulted Henry Chatillon as to
whether it would do