As The Boat Rounded A Distant
Point, The Last Object That Met Our Eyes Was Delorier Still Lifting
His Hat And Skipping About The Rock.
We had taken leave of Munroe
and Jim Gurney at Westport, and Henry Chatillon went down in the boat
with us.
The passage to St. Louis occupied eight days, during about a third of
which we were fast aground on sand-bars. We passed the steamer
Amelia crowded with a roaring crew of disbanded volunteers, swearing,
drinking, gambling, and fighting. At length one evening we reached
the crowded levee of St. Louis. Repairing to the Planters' House, we
caused diligent search to be made for our trunks, which after some
time were discovered stowed away in the farthest corner of the
storeroom. In the morning we hardly recognized each other; a frock
of broadcloth had supplanted the frock of buckskin; well-fitted
pantaloons took the place of the Indian leggings, and polished boots
were substituted for the gaudy moccasins.
After we had been several days at St. Louis we heard news of Tete
Rouge. He had contrived to reach Fort Leavenworth, where he had
found the paymaster and received his money. As a boat was just ready
to start for St. Louis, he went on board and engaged his passage.
This done, he immediately got drunk on shore, and the boat went off
without him. It was some days before another opportunity occurred,
and meanwhile the sutler's stores furnished him with abundant means
of keeping up his spirits.
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