Page:Whitman's Ride through Savage Lands.djvu/34



T was a beautiful morning in the closing days of October, 1831. The trees about St. Louis were robed in their gorgeous autumnal foliage. High above came the "honk, honk, honk" of the wild geese, as in long, straight lines or in letter V's, they winged their way southward, while the birds were gathering in groups, chattering and arranging for their winter outing in warmer lands. The residents of the city were just arousing from their sleep, smoke was beginning to curl above the chimneys, shutters and doors were being opened for business activities, when the strange scene was presented of four Flathead Indian Chiefs, marching solemnly single file down the middle of one of the principal streets. At that date the now prosperous and great city of St. Louis was but a "frontier town," mainly noted as a military station, and Indians were not uncommon, as all the great and