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The Life and Adventures of Kit Carson, the Nestor of the Rocky Mountains, from Facts Narrated by Himself

by De Witt C. Peters · English · Gutenberg #16274 · 913,004 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: The Life and Adventures of Kit Carson, the Nestor of the Rocky Mountains, from Facts Narrated by Himself

Author: De Witt C. Peters


        
Release date: July 12, 2005 [eBook #16274]
                Most recently updated: December 12, 2020

Language: English

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THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF KIT CARSON, THE NESTOR OF THE ROCKY
MOUNTAINS, FROM FACTS NARRATED BY HIMSELF

by

DE WITT C. PETERS, M.D.,
Late Assistant Surgeon U.S.A.

With Original Illustrations, Drawn by Lumley,
Engraved by N. Orr & Co.

New York:
W.R.C. Clark & Co.,
348 Broadway.
W.H. Tinson, Stereotyper and Printer,
Rear of 43 & 45 Centre Street, N.Y.

MDCCCLVIII







  "All are but parts of one stupendous whole,
  Whose body nature is, and God the soul."




[Illustration: KIT AND HIS FAVORITE HORSE "APACHE."]




TO

COL. CERAN ST. VRAIN,

OF NEW MEXICO.


DEAR SIR,

You were first among the brave mountaineers to discover and direct the
manly energy, extraordinary natural ability, and unyielding courage
which have attached to the subject of this volume; and, as among the
first Americans who put foot on the Rocky Mountains, you are perhaps
best acquainted with the history of the men, who, for fifty years,
have lived there. CHRISTOPHER CARSON, after a long life, now crowned
with successful and honorable achievements, still looks upon you,
sir, as his earliest patron, and places your name on the list of his
warmest friends. Through a life of unusual activity and duration,
which, reflecting honor and renown upon your name, has given you a
distinguished position among your countrymen, you have never been
known to forget a duty to your fellow man.

For these considerations, the dedication of this volume to you cannot
but appear appropriate. That he may continue to merit a place in your
confidence and esteem is the earnest desire of

THE AUTHOR.

       *       *       *       *       *




FERNANDEZ DE TAOS, NEW MEXICO.

SIR:

We, the undersigned citizens of the Territory of New Mexico, have been
acquainted with Mr. CHRISTOPHER CARSON for a number of years, indeed
almost from the time of his first arrival in the country. We have been
his companions both in the mountains and as a private citizen. We are
also acquainted with the fact that for the past few months, during his
leisure hours, he has been engaged dictating his life. This is, to
our certain knowledge, the only authentic biography of himself and his
travels that has ever been written. We heartily recommend THIS BOOK
to the reading community for perusal, as it presents a life out of the
usual routine of business, and is checkered with adventures which
have tried this bold and daring man. We are cognizant of most of the
details of the book, and vouch for their accuracy.

Very respectfully,

CERAN ST. VRAIN, LIEUT. COL. N.M. VOLUNTEERS.

CHARLES BEAUBIEN, LATE CIRCUIT JUDGE.




THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE.


The pages here presented to the public form a book of facts. They
unfold for the student, as does no other work yet extant, the great
interior wilderness of the territories belonging to the United States.
The scenic views, though plainly colored and wrought by the hand of
an unpretending artist, inasmuch as they portray a part of the North
American continent which is unsurpassed by any other country on the
face of the earth, will not fail to interest the American public. In
addition to this, the reader is introduced to an intimate acquaintance
with the Indian races of the countries which He east and west of the
Rocky Mountains. The savage warrior and hunter is presented, stripped
of all the decorations with which writers of fiction have dressed
him. He is seen in his ferocity and gentleness, in his rascality and
nobility, in his boyhood, manhood, and old age, and in his wisdom and
ignorance. The attentive reader will learn of his approximations to
truth, his bundle of superstitions, his acts at home and on the war
path, his success while following the buffalo and engaging the wild
Rocky Mountain bear, that terror of the western wilderness. He will
also behold him carrying devastation to the homes of the New Mexican
settlers, and freely spilling their best blood to satiate a savage
revenge. He will see him attacking and massacring parties of the white
men traveling across the prairies, and trace him in his savage wars
with the early settlers and frontiersmen.

In order to acquire these important _data_ that they might be added
to the pages of American history and form a reliable record, it was
necessary that some brave, bold and determined man should become an
actor on the scenes and among the races described. Such an actor
has been, and yet is, Christopher Carson, the Nestor of the Rocky
Mountains; and, it is the experience, as well as the acts, of his
stirring life, which the following pages present.

In olden times there existed, in the Rocky Mountains, a race
familiarly known by the name of "Trappers and Hunters." They are now
almost extinct. Their history has not yet been written. Pen paintings,
drawn from the imagination, founded upon distant views of their
exploits and adventures, have occasionally served, as do legends,
to "adorn a tale." The volume now offered to the public, gives their
history as related by one whose name as a trapper and hunter of the
"Far West," stands second to none; by a man, who, for fifteen years,
saw not the face of a white woman, or slept under a roof; who, during
those long years, with his rifle alone, killed over two thousand
buffalo, between four and five thousand deer, antelope and elk,
besides wild game, such as bears, wild turkeys, prairie chickens,
etc., etc. in numbers beyond calculation. On account of their
originality, daring and interest, the real facts, concerning this race
of trappers and hunters, will be handed down to posterity as matters
belonging to history.

As is the case with the Indian, the race of the "Simon Pure Trapper"
is nearly run. The advance of civilization, keeping up its untiring
march to the westward, is daily encroaching upon their wild haunts and
bringing the day close at hand when warrior and trapper will depart
forever to their "Happy Hunting Grounds."

With the extinction of the great fur companies, the trappers of "Olden
Time" disbanded and separated.

The greatest number of these men, to be found at the present day,
reside in the Territory of New Mexico; which, in the time of their
prosperity, was the country where they located their head quarters. In
this Territory, Christopher Carson now resides. His name, in the Rocky
Mountains, has been familiarly known for more than a quarter of a
century; and, from its association with the names of great explorers
and military men, is now spread throughout the civilized world. It has
been generally conceded, and the concession has become strengthened
by time, that no small share of the benefits derived from these
explorations and campaigns, as well as the safety of the commands
themselves, was and is due to the sagacity, skill, experience,
advice and labor of Christopher Carson. The exploring parties, and
expeditions here referred to, are those which he accompanied in the
capacity of chief guide and adviser.

His sober habits, strict honor, and great regard for truth, have
endeared him to all who can call him friend; and, among such may be
enumerated names belonging to some of the most distinguished men whose
deeds are recorded on the pages of American history. His past life has
been a mystery which this book will unveil. Instead of Kit Carson as
by imagination--a bold braggart and reckless, improvident hero of the
rifle--he will appear a retired man, and one who is very reserved in
his intercourse with others. This fact, alone, will account for the
difficulty which has hitherto attended presenting the public with an
accurate history of his life.

A few years since, the writer of this work first met Christopher
Carson. It needed neither a second introduction, nor the assistance of
a friendly panegyric, to enable him to discover in Christopher Carson
those traits of manhood, which are esteemed by the great and good to
be distinguishing ornaments of character. This acquaintance ripened
into a friendship of the purest stamp. Since then, the writer has been
the intimate friend and, companion of Christopher Carson, at his home,
in the wild scenes of the chase, on the war trail, and upon the field
of battle. For a long period, in common with hundreds--and, we might
with truth add, thousands, the writer has desired to see Christopher
Carson's wonderful career made public for the world of readers; but,
while this idea was germinating in his brain, he did not, for an
instant, flatter himself that the pleasant task would ever be assigned
to him. Finally, however, at the urgent solicitation of many personal
friends, Christopher Carson dictated the facts upon which this book
is written. They were then placed in the writer's hands, with
instructions to add to them such information as had fallen under his
observation, during quite extensive travels over a large part of the
wide expanse of country, which has been Christopher Carson's theatre
for action.

The book is a book of solid truth; therefore, the faults in the style,
arrangement and composition, become affairs of minor consideration.
For this reason, the writer makes no apologies to embarrass the
critics.

Christopher Carson, physically, is small in stature, but of compact
frame-work. He has a large and finely developed head, a twinkling
grey eye, and hair of a sandy color, which he wears combed back _à la
Franklin mode_. His education having been much neglected in his
youth, he is deficient in theoretical learning. By natural abilities,
however, he has greatly compensated for this defect. He speaks the
French and Spanish languages fluently, besides being a perfect master
of several Indian dialects. In Indian customs, their manners, habits
and the groundwork of their conduct, no man on the American continent
is better skilled.

The writer, while on a foreign tour, once had the opportunity and
pleasure of hearing Gordon Cumming and other hunters of less note,
discourse on their hunting exploits; furthermore, in our own country,
while seated around camp-fires and in log houses, he has listened to
the adventures of ancient and modern Nimrods in the chase; besides
these facts, he has both seen and read much of hunting exploits; but,
no hunter ever filled his fancy so perfectly, as does Christopher
Carson, a man who acts and never boasts.

Without further comment, the reader is presented with the work, while
the writer cherishes the hope, that the facts, which for the first
time are given to the world, will prove to be both interesting and
important as jottings of history.

The author begs leave to return to his friend, C. HATCH SMITH, A.M.,
of Brooklyn, New York, his acknowledgment for valuable assistance in
revising, correcting and arranging his manuscript.

196 Twenty-third street, New York.




CONTENTS.


CHAPTER I.

Carson's Birthplace--His Emigration to Missouri--Early Prospects--Is
an Apprentice--Stories of the Rocky Mountains--He Enlists to go
there--Adventures on the Prairies--Broaders is Wounded--Carson's Nerve
put to the Test--Rude Amputation--Safe Arrival at Santa Fé--Goes
to Taos and learns the Spanish Language--Early
Vicissitudes--Disappointment and Attempt to return to Missouri--Is
employed as an Interpreter, Teamster, etc., 13



CHAPTER II.

The news of the Defeat of Mr. Young's Trapping Party by the Indians
reaches Taos--Young raises a Party to chastise the Indians--Kit Carson
becomes a Conspicuous Member of the Expedition--The Indians are found
on Salt River--The Fight--Trapping Exploits--A new Country--Trials
and Vicissitudes--Sacramento Valley--California and its Roman
Catholic Missions in 1829--Another Indian Fight--Sale of Furs--Indian
Depredations--Kit Carson and Twelve Trappers engage with the Indians
in a Battle--Return to the Camp with recovered Property, 30


CHAPTER III.

The Return from California to New Mexico--San Fernando and the Peublo
of Los Angelos--Description of these Peublos--Passports demanded at
Los Angelos--Trouble with the Mexican Authorities--Kit Carson sent on
with the Pack Animals--One Trapper shoots another--The Mexicans become
frightened--Indians come into Camp with their Weapons concealed--Cool
Reception, by Kit Carson--Arrival at Santa Fé and Taos--Money realized
soon parted with--Carson joins another Expedition--The Rivers trapped
on--Four Men Killed by Blackfeet Indians--Kit Carson joins Gaunt's
Party--The Parks--Winter Quarters--Crow Indian Depredations--Kit
Carson and his Party in Pursuit--the Fight--Winter on the
Arkansas--Another Expedition--Two Deserters--Kit Carson sent
in Pursuit--The Fate of the Runaways--Adventures with
Indians--Hair-breadth Escape made by Kit Carson, 42


CHAPTER IV.

Kit Carson and two Companions plan a Hunt for themselves--The Great
Success met with--Return to Taos--Sale of the Beaver Fur--Kit
Carson joins Captain Lee and goes on a Trading Expedition--Winter
Quarters--Kit Carson is sent in Pursuit of a Thief--Overtakes and
is obliged to shoot the Runaway--Property recovered--The Return to
Camp--The Sale of Goods--Kit Carson joins Fitzpatrick and Party--Kit
Carson organizes a Hunting Party--His Encounter with two Grizzly
Bears--The Summer Rendezvous--Kit Carson joins fifty Trappers and
goes to the Country of the Blackfeet Indians--Annoyances received from
these Indians--Winter Quarters in 1832--Horses Stolen--Kit Carson
and eleven Men in Pursuit--A Parley--A Fight--Kit Carson severely
wounded--His great Sufferings and Fortitude--His Convalescence--The
Retreat--A New Expedition--A Braggadocio--Kit Carson Fights a Duel and
Wounds his man--Duels in the Rocky Mountains in Olden Times, 68


CHAPTER V.

The Fall Hunt--McCoy of the Hudson's Bay Company organizes a Trapping
Party which Kit Carson joins--The Hunt--Scarcity of Beaver on Humboldt
River--The Party is divided--Kit Carson with a majority of the
Men goes to Fort Hall--Hardships and Privations met with--Buffalo
Hunt--All their Animals stolen in the Night by a Party of Blackfeet
Indians--Arrival of McCoy from Fort Walla Walla--The Rendezvous--Kit
Carson joins a strong Band--The Small Pox among the Blackfeet
Indians--The Crow Indians on good terms with the Whites--Intense
Cold--Immense Herds of Buffalo--Danger of their goring to death the
Horses--The Spring Hunt--The Blackfeet Indian Village overtaken--A
desperate Fight with these Indians--The Rendezvous--Sir William Stuart
and a favorite Missionary--Kit Carson goes on a Trading Expedition to
the Navajoe Indians--The Return--He accepts the post of Hunter of the
Trading Post at Brown's Hole, 106


CHAPTER VI.

Bridger and Carson trapping on the Black Hills--The Main Camp--The
Rendezvous--Winter Quarters on the Yellow Stone--Carson with forty men
in a desperate fight with the Blackfeet Indians--A Council--Sentinel
posted--One Thousand Warriors come to punish the Trappers--The War
Dance--The Courage of the Savages deserts them--Winter Quarters--The
Spring Hunt--Another Fight with the Blackfeet--Continued
Annoyances--The Trappers abandon the Country--The Rocky Mountains
and Alps compared--Other Trapping Expeditions--Beaver becoming
scarce--Prices of Fur reduced--Kit Carson and the Trappers give
up their Vocation--The Journey to Bent's Fort--Mitchell the
Mountaineer--His Eccentricities, 127


CHAPTER VII.

Kit Carson is employed as Hunter to Bent's Fort--His Career for
Eight Years--Messrs. Bent and St. Vrain--The commencement of his
Acquaintance with John C. Fremont on a Steamboat--Is employed as
a Guide by the Great Explorer--The Journey--Arrival at Fort
Laramie--Indian Difficulties--The business of the Expedition
completed--Return to Fort Laramie--Kit Carson goes to Taos and is
married--He is employed as Hunter to a Train of Wagons bound for the
States--Meeting with Captain Cook and four companies of U.S. Dragoons
on Walnut Creek--Mexicans in Trouble--Kit Carson carries a Letter
for them to Santa Fé--Indians on the Route--His safe Arrival--Amijos'
advance Guard massacred by the Texians--The one Survivor--The
Retreat--Kit Carson returns to Bent's Fort--His Adventures with the
Utahs and narrow escape from Death--The Texians disarmed--The Express
Ride performed, 147


CHAPTER VIII.

Kit Carson visits Fremont's Camp--Goes on the Second
Exploring Expedition--The Necessary Arrangements--Trip to Salt
Lake--Explorations there--Carson is dispatched to Fort Hall for
Supplies--Their Operations at Salt Lake--The Great Island--The Journey
to the Columbia River in Oregon--Incidents on the Route--Tlamath
Lake--The Journey to California--The Trials and Privations met with
while crossing the Sierra Nevada Mountains--Mr. Preuss is lost
but finds the Party again--Arrival at Sutter's Fort in a Destitute
Condition--Two of the Party become deranged--The Route on the Return
Trip--Mexicans come into their Camp asking Aid and Protection--Indian
Depredations--Carson and Godey start on a Daring Adventure--The
Pursuit--The Thieves overtaken--These Two White Men attack Thirty
Indians--The Victory--Horses retaken--The Return to Camp--One of their
Companions killed--The Journey continued--Arrival at Bent's Fort--The
"Fourth of July" Dinner, 178


CHAPTER IX.

Kit Carson concludes to become a Farmer--He is joined in the
Enterprise by a Friend--They build a Ranche on the Cimeron
River--Descriptions of Mexican Customs and Country--Fremont once more
at Bent's Fort--Express sent for Kit Carson to join the Expedition as
Guide--The Ranche Sold, and the Departure--The Third Expedition and
its Explorations--Difficulties with the Mexican-Californians--General
Castro's Orders to leave the Country--Determination to Fight--Fremont
goes to Lawson's Fort--Fremont and his Men encounter a Thousand
Indians--The Battle and the Victory--The news that War had
been declared between the United States and Mexico reaches
Fremont--Lieutenant Gillespie rescued from the Indians--Three of the
party killed in the Night by Indians--The Savages repulsed--The Burial
of Comrades, 232


CHAPTER X.

Fremont en route for California--His men are anxious to punish the
Tlamath Indians--Kit Carson, in command of ten Men, is sent on ahead
to reconnoitre--He discovers the main Village of these Indians--The
Attack and the Victory--Beautiful Lodges--The Trophies mostly
destroyed--Fremont saves Kit Carson's Life--The Journey resumed--The
Sacramento Valley--An Indian Ambuscade--One Savage defies the
Party--Kit Carson shoots him--The Tlamath Indians still on the War
Path--Another Lesson given to them--A Thief is shot--Arrival at
Lawson's Trading Post--A period of Inactivity--A Detachment sent
to capture Sonoma--Prisoners taken--The Mexicans come to punish
the Americans--Their Courage deserts them--The Retreat--The
Pursuit--Fremont goes to Sutter's Fort and establishes a Military
Post--Monterey is taken by the American Squadron--Fremont marches
there--Further Operations--The taking of Los Angelos, 261


CHAPTER XI.

Kit Carson is sent Overland as Bearer of Dispatches to
Washington--The Preparation and the Start--The Journey--Privations and
Sufferings--Meeting with General Kearney--The General takes Carson
as his Guide and sends on the Dispatches by Fitzpatrick--The
March--Arrival at Warner's Ranche--Mexicans on the Road--Preparations
for a Battle--The Battle--Disastrous Consequences--Kit Carson and
Lieutenant Beale offer to run the lines of the Mexican Sentinels and
carry Information to San Diego of Kearney's critical position--The
Daring Undertaking--The Sufferings they encountered--Their
Arrival--Reinforcements sent out--Lieutenant Beale is Delirious from
the Privations he has undergone--Gen. Kearney and his Command finally
reach and join the other American Forces in California, 274


CHAPTER XII.

A Command of Six Hundred Men is sent against Los Angelos--The Mexican
Army evacuates the Town--Its Capture--Rumors of an Attack to be made
on Fremont's Command--The Mexicans surrender--The Winter
Quarters--Kit Carson is ordered to carry Dispatches overland to
Washington--Lieutenant Beale accompanies him--A Night Attack made by
the Indians--Arrival in the United States--Kit Carson's Introduction
to Col. Benton and Mrs. Fremont--Hospitality offered to him at
Washington--Kit Carson receives the Appointment of Lieutenant in the
Rifle Corps of the U.S. Army from President Polk--He is ordered to
carry Dispatches to California--The Journey--A Brush with the
Camanche Indians--Arrival at Santa Fé--More trouble with hostile
Indians--Arrival at Los Angelos--Dispatches delivered--Kit Carson
is assigned to do Duty with the Dragoons--Is ordered to Guard Tajon
Pass--The Winter spent there--Is ordered again to carry Dispatches to
Washington--The Journey and its Adventures--The return to New Mexico,
297


CHAPTER XIII.

Kit Carson at his Home--The Apache Indians become hostile--An
Expedition sent against them--It is not successful--Another is
organized, with which, Kit Carson goes as Guide--Two Indian Chiefs
captured--Other Incidents of the Trip--Colonel Beall attempts to force
the Indians to give up Mexican Captives--Two thousand Savages on the
Arkansas River--The Visit to them--Kit Carson emigrates and builds a
Ranche at Rayado--Description of the Valley--The Massacre of a Santa
Fé Merchant--His Wife is made Prisoner--The Expedition sent to rescue
her--The Indians overtaken--Bad Counsel and Management--The commanding
Officer wounded--Mrs. White's Body found--Severe Snow-storm on the
Plains--One Man frozen to Death--Kit Carson returns to Rayado--The
occupation of a Farmer resumed--The Apaches steal from the Settlers
nearly all their Animals--Kit Carson with thirteen others in the
Pursuit--The Surprise--A running Fight--The Animals recovered--A
gallant Sergeant and his Fate--Kit Carson and Goodel go on a Trading
Expedition to meet California Emigrants at Fort Laramie--Humorous
Adventures--The Dangers that beset the Road to New
Mexico--Hair-breadth Escape--Arrival at Taos, 322


CHAPTER XIV.

Kit Carson reaches Home--Himself and Neighbors robbed by the
Apaches--Major Grier goes in Pursuit of, and recaptures the stolen
Stock--A Plot organized by White Men to murder two Santa Fé Traders
for their Money--The Disclosure--Kit Carson goes to the Rescue of the
Traders--The Camp of United States Recruits--Captain Snell with twenty
Men joins Kit Carson and they two make the Arrest of Fox--Gratitude
expressed by the Traders--Money offered but refused--The Prisoner
taken to Taos and incarcerated--Kit Carson receives a magnificent Pair
of Revolvers as a Present from the grateful Traders--The return
to Rayado--A Trading Expedition to the United States--The return
Journey--An Encounter with the Cheyenne Indians--A State of
Suspense--The Deliverance from Danger by a Message sent by a Mexican
Runner--The arrival at Rayado, 361


CHAPTER XV.

Kit Carson's last Trapping Expedition--He embarks in a
Speculation--His Trip to California with a large Flock of Sheep--The
Method employed by Mexicans in driving Herds and their Dexterity--Kit
Carson goes to San Francisco--Its wonderful Growth--Maxwell joins Kit
Carson at Sacramento City--The Lucky Speculation--The Return Trip to
New Mexico and its Adventures--The Mormon Delegate to Congress informs
Kit Carson of his Appointment as Indian Agent--Kit Carson enters
upon the Duties of his Office--Bell's Fight with the Apaches on
Red River--Kit Carson's Interview with the same Indian--High-handed
Measures on the Part of the Apaches--Davidson's desperate Fight with
them--The Soldiers defeated with severe loss--Davidson's Bravery is
unjustly questioned--Kit Carson's Opinion of it--The Apaches elated by
their Victory--Their Imitations of the Actions of Military Men, 389


CHAPTER XVI.

A fresh Campaign set on foot--Col. Cook in Command--Kit Carson goes
as Guide--The Apaches and Utahs leagued together--The Roughness of
the Country and the Privations to which the Command was exposed--The
Indians overhauled--A running Fight--The Advantages gained--The Chase
resumed--The Apaches resort to their old Tricks--Col. Cook is obliged
to return to Abiquiu--A Utah taken Prisoner through Mistake--Kit
Carson goes to Taos and has a Conference with the Chiefs of the Utah
Nation--Cook's second Scout--He is caught in a furious Snow-storm and
obliged to return to Rio Colorado--Major Brooks and Reinforcements
come to the Rescue--Major Brooks on the Lookout, but fails to find the
Indians--Carleton's Expedition--Kit Carson goes with it as Guide--The
Adventures met with--Kit Carson's Prophecy comes true--The Muache Band
of Utahs summoned by Kit Carson to a Grand Council--Troubles brewing
among these Indians--The Small Pox carries off their Head Men, 434


CHAPTER XVII.

The Commencement of a formidable Indian War--High-handed Measures
on the Part of the Indians--The Governor of New Mexico raises five
hundred Mexican Volunteers and places them under the Command of
Colonel St. Vrain--Colonel Fauntleroy placed in Command of all
the Forces--Kit Carson is chosen as Chief Guide--The Campaign
commenced--The Trail found--The Indians are met and the first Fight
and its Consequences--An Excitement in Camp--The Indians again
overtaken--The return to Fort Massachusetts--Intense Cold Weather
experienced--The Second Campaign--Colonel Fauntleroy surprises the
Main Camp of the Enemy--The War and Scalp Dance broken up--Terrible
Slaughter of the Indians--The Great Amount of Plunder taken and
destroyed--Another small Party of Indians surprised and routed--St.
Vrain equally fortunate in his Campaign--The Indians sue for
Peace--The Council held and Treaties signed--Kit Carson opposes the
making of them--The poor Protection Indian Treaties usually afford
to Settlers--Kit Carson's House at Taos and his Indian Friends--His
Attachment for his Family put to the test--Cowardice of a Mexican--Kit
Carson's Friends as they look upon him--His influence over
Indians--General remarks--Conclusion, 466




LIFE OF KIT CARSON.


CHAPTER I.

    Carson's Birthplace--His Emigration to Missouri--Early
    Prospects--Is an Apprentice--Stories of the Rocky
    Mountains--He Enlists to go there--Adventures on the
    Prairies--Broaders is Wounded--Carson's Nerve put to the
    Test--Rude Amputation--Safe Arrival at Santa Fé--Goes to
    Taos and learns the Spanish Language--Early
    Vicissitudes--Disappointment and Attempt to return to
    Missouri--Is employed as an Interpreter, Teamster, etc.


It is now a well-established fact, that no State in the American Union
has given birth to so many distinguished pioneers and explorers of
its boundless Territories, as the commonwealth of Kentucky. An Author,
whose task is to tell of a Hero, his bravery, endurance, privations,
integrity, self-denial and deeds of daring, carries the _morale_ with
which to gain at once for these characteristics the assent of the
reader, by the simple assertion, "My Hero was born a Kentuckian."
Indeed, in America, to be a native of the State of Kentucky, is to
inherit all the attributes of a brave man, a safe counsellor and a
true friend. It is, at least, certain that this State, whether the
fact is due to its inland and salubrious climate, or to its habits of
physical training, has added many a Hero unto humanity.

Christopher Carson, by his countrymen familiarly called "Kit Carson,"
was born in the County of Madison, State of Kentucky, on the 24th day
of December, 1809. The Carson family were among the first settlers
of Kentucky, and became owners of fine farms. Besides being an
industrious and skillful farmer, the father of Kit Carson was a
celebrated hunter. When the Indians of Kentucky became quieted down,
putting an end to the calls upon his courage and skill as a woodsman,
he settled into a simple, respectable farmer. This monotonous life
did not suit his disposition; and, as the tide of emigration into the
wilds of Missouri was then commencing, where both game and the red man
still roamed, he resolved to migrate in that direction. It was only
one year after the birth of his son Christopher, that Mr. Carson sold
his estate in Kentucky and established himself, with his large family,
in that part of the State of Missouri now known as Howard County. At
this time Howard County, Missouri, was a wilderness, on the remote
American frontier. At his new home, the father was in his element. His
reputation of carrying an unerring rifle and always enacting the deeds
of a brave man, was not long in following him into this wilderness.
Mr. Carson's only assistant, on his first arrival in Howard County,
was his eldest son, Moses Carson, who was afterwards settled in the
State of California, where he resided twenty-five years before the
great California gold discovery was made.

For two or three years after arriving at their new home, the Carson
family, with a few neighbors, lived in a picketed log fort; and when
they were engaged in agricultural pursuits, working their farms, and
so forth, it was necessary to plough, sow and reap under guard,
men being stationed at the sides and extremities of their fields to
prevent the working party from being surprised and massacred by wild
and hostile savages who infested the country. At this time the small
pox, that disease which has proved such a terrible scourge to the
Indian, had but seldom visited him.[1]

[Footnote 1: This disease has probably been the worst enemy with which
the red man of America has had to contend. By terrible experience he
has become familiarized with its ravages, and has resorted to the most
desperate remedies for its cure. Among many tribes, the afflicted are
obliged to form camps by themselves; and, thus left alone, they die by
scores. One of their favorite remedies, when the scourge first makes
its appearance, is to plunge into the nearest river, by which they
think to purify themselves. This course, however, in reality, tends
to shorten their existence. When the small pox rages among the
Aborigines, a most unenviable position is held by their "Medicine
Man." He is obliged to give a strict account of himself; and, if so
unfortunate as to lose a chief, or other great personage, is sure
to pay the penalty by parting with his own life. The duties of the
"Medicine Man" among the Indians are so mixed up with witchcraft
and jugglery, so filled with the pretence of savage quackery, so
completely rude and unfounded as to principle, that it is impossible
to define the practice for any useful end. About five years since, a
young gentleman of scientific habits, who was attached to an exploring
party, accidentally became separated from his companions. In his
wanderings, he fell in with a band of hostile Sioux Indians, who
would quickly have dispatched him, had he not succeeded immediately
in convincing them of his wonderful powers. It so happened that this
gentleman was well informed in the theory of vaccination, and it
struck him that by impressing on the savages his skill, he might
extricate himself. By the aid of signs, a lancet and some virus, he
set himself to work, and soon saw that he had gained a reputation
which saved him his scalp. He first vaccinated his own arm, after
which all of the Indians present solicited his magic touch, to save
them from the loathsome disease. The result was, that he found he had
enlisted himself in an active practice. After a few days, the Indians
were delighted with the results, and began to look upon their prisoner
as possessed of superhuman knowledge. They feared to do him injury,
and finally resolved to let him go; of which privilege, it is almost
unnecessary to say, he was delighted to avail himself, and was not
long in finding his friends.]

The incidents which enliven and add interest to the historic page,
have proved of spontaneous and vigorous growth in the new settlements
of America. Nearly every book which deals with the early planting and
progress of the American colonists and pioneers, contains full, and
frequently glowing, descriptions of exploits in the forest; strifes of
the hunter; fights with the savages; fearful and terrible surprises of
lurking warriors, as they arouse the brave settler and his family
from their midnight dreams by the wild, death-announcing war-whoop;
hair-breadth escapes from the larger kinds of game, boldly bearded in
their lair; the manly courage which never yields, but surmounts every
obstacle presented by the unbroken and boundless forest; all these
are subjects and facts which have already so many counterparts in
book-thought, accessible to the general reader, that their details
may be safely omitted during the boyhood days of young Carson. It is
better, therefore, to pass over the youthful period of his eventful
life, until he began to ripen into manhood.

Kit Carson, at fifteen years of age, was no ordinary person. He had at
this early age earned, and well earned, a reputation, on the basis
of which the prediction was ventured in his behalf, that he would not
fail to make and leave a mark upon the hearts of his countrymen. Those
who knew him at the age of fifteen, hesitated not to say, "Kit Carson
is the boy who will grow into a man of influence and renown."

The chief points of his character which elicited this prediction were
thus early clearly marked. Some of his traits were kindness and
good qualities of heart, determined perseverance, indomitable will,
unflinching courage, great quickness and shrewdness of perception, and
promptitude in execution. The predictions uttered by the hardy rangers
of the forest concerning a boy like Carson are seldom at fault; and
Kit was one who, by many a youthful feat worthy the muscle of riper
years, had endeared himself to their honest love. It was among such
men and for such reason, that Kit Carson thus early in life had won
the influence and rewards of a general favorite.

His frame was slight, below the medium stature, closely knit together,
and endowed with extraordinary elasticity. He had, even then, stood
the test of much hard usage. What the body lacked in strength was more
than compensated for by his indomitable will; consequently, at this
early age, he was considered capable of performing a frontier man's
work, both in tilling the soil and handling the rifle.

It was at this period of his eventful life that his father, acting
partially under the advice of friends, determined that his son Kit
should learn a trade. A few miles from Kit's forest home, there lived
a Mr. David Workman, a saddler. To him he was apprenticed. With Mr.
Workman young Carson remained two years, enjoying both the confidence
and respect of his employer; but, mourning over the awl, the hide
of new leather, the buckle and strap; for, the glorious shade of the
mighty forest; the wild battle with buffalo and bear; the crack of
the unerring rifle, pointed at the trembling deer. Saddlery is an
honorable employment; but saddlery never made a greater mistake than
when it strove to hitch to its traces the bold impulse, the wild
yearning, the sinewy muscle of Kit Carson. Harness-making was so
irksome to his ardent temperament and brave heart, that he resolved to
take advantage of the first favorable opportunity and quit it forever.
With him, to resolve has ever been followed by action. During the
latter part of his stay with Mr. Workman, many stories of adventures
in the Rocky Mountains reached the ear of the youthful Kentuckian in
his Missouri home. The almost miraculous _hyperbole_ which flavored
the narratives were not long in awakening in his breast a strong
desire to share in such stirring events. The venturesome mind at last
became inspired. He determined to go; and, giving his restless spirit
full sway, in 1826, joined a party bound for his boyish fancy-pictures
of the Elysian Fields. The leader of this expedition required no
second request from young Carson before enrolling his name on the
company-list. The hardy woodsman saw stamped upon the frank and open
countenance of the boy who stood before him those sterling qualities
which have since made his name a household word. These formed a
passport which, on the spot, awakened the respect and unlocked the
hearts of those whose companionship he sought.

The work of preparation was now commenced by the different parties to
the expedition. All of the arrangements having been finally completed,
the bold and hardy band soon started upon their journey. Their route
lay over the vast, and then unexplored territory, bounded by the Rocky
Mountains on the one side, and the Missouri River on the other. Before
them lay, stretched out in almost never-ending space, those great
prairies, the half of which are still unknown to the white man.
Crossing the plains in 1826 was an entirely different feat from what
it is at this day. Where, then, were the published guides? Where were
the charts indicating the eligible camping grounds with their springs
of pure water? These _oases_ of the American Sahara were not yet
acquainted with the white man's foot. The herds of buffaloes, the
droves of wild horses, knew not the crack of the white man's rifle.
They had fled only at the approach of the native Indian warrior and
the yearly fires of the prairie. It was a difficult task to find a man
who had gazed on the lofty peaks of the mountain ranges which formed a
serpentine division of the vast American Territories, or who had drank
the waters at the camping places on the prairies. The traveller
at that day was, in every force of meaning which the word extends,
literally, an explorer, whose chosen object was the task of a hero.
The Indians themselves could give no information of the route beyond
the confined limits of their hunting ranges. The path which this
pioneer party entered was existent only in the imagination of the
book-making geographer, about as accurate and useful from its detail,
as the route of Baron Munchausen to the icelands of the North Pole on
the back of his eagle. The whole expanse of the rolling prairie, to
those brave hearts, was one boundless uncertainty. This language may
possibly be pronounced redundant. It may be in phrase; it is not in
fact. The carpet-knight, the holiday ranger, the book-worm explorer,
knows but little of the herculean work which has furnished for the
world a practical knowledge of the western half of the North American
continent. We shall see in the progress of this work whether the
adventures of Kit Carson entitle him to a place in the heart of the
American nation on the same shelf with his compeers.

In that day, the fierce red-man chief scoured the broad prairies, a
petty king in his tribe, a ruler of his wild domain. Bold, haughty,
cautious, wily, unrelenting, revengeful, he led his impassioned
warriors in the chase and to battle. Even to-day, the lurking Indian
foeman is no mean adversary to be laughed and brushed out of the way,
notwithstanding disease, war, assassination and necessary chastisement
have united rapidly to decimate his race, thereby gradually lessening
its power. Thirty years ago the rolling plains were alive with them,
and their numbers alone made them formidable. It is not strange that
the untutored savages of the prairie, like those of their race who
hailed with ungovernable curiosity the landing of the Pilgrims on
Plymouth Rock, should have been attracted by the wonderful inventions
of the white-man intruder. A very short period of time served to turn
this ungovernable curiosity into troublesome thieving. Knowing no law
but their wild traditionary rules, they wrested from the adventurous
pioneer, his rifle, knife, axe, wagon, harness, horse, powder, ball,
flint, watch, compass, cooking utensils, and so forth. The result was,
sanguinary engagements ensued, which led to bitter hostility between
the two races. Doubtless the opinion may be controverted, but it
nevertheless shall be hazarded, that, until the weaker party shall be
exterminated by the stronger, the wild war-whoop, with its keen-edged
knife and death-dealing rifle accompaniments, will continue, from time
to time, to palsy the nerve, and arouse the courage of the pioneer
white man. The Indian, in his attack, no longer showers cloth-yard
arrows upon his foe. He has learned to kill his adversary with the
voice of thunder and the unseen bullet.

The bold traveller, whose pathway lies over those great highroads
which lead to the Pacific, must still watch for the red man's ambush
by day; and, by night, sleep under the protecting vigilance of the
faithful, quick-sighted sentinel. The savage never forgives his own or
his ancestor's foe. Every generation of them learns from tradition the
trials and exploits of its tribe. From earliest boyhood these form the
burden of their education in history; and, on performing the feat of
courage or strength which admits them to the councils of the braves,
their nation's wrongs are uppermost in their thoughts, causing them to
thirst for a revenge which sooner or later gives them a grave, making
themselves, in turn, an object of revenge.

It has already appeared that when Kit Carson entered upon his first
expedition, game was to be had in abundance. His route lay across the
western wilds to Santa Fé. All this distance the bulk of provisions,
consisting of a small quantity of flour and bacon, had to be
transported by himself and his companions. These articles were kept
as a reserve, and were looked upon as luxuries; for, that man was
estimated to be a very poor shot who could not obtain, with his rifle,
all the animal food he required for his individual sustenance. These
hunters, however, well understood the laws which govern and the
advantages which follow division of labor. Everything was so arranged,
both for this and subsequent expeditions, by which a regular hunter
was appointed, and each man assigned some particular duty according
to his capacity. These appointments were usually made by the leader
of the party, whose supervision was acknowledged by general consent on
account of his known experience and capability. This plan was the more
necessary in order to avoid confusion.

The caravan had hardly launched out on its long and tedious tramp,
when an accident occurred which came very near proving serious in its
results. For several days the men had been greatly annoyed by wolves
who appeared more than usually ravenous and bold.[2]

[Footnote 2: There are two species of these animals found on the
western prairie. One is small, called the Jackal; the other much
larger. The latter, or larger species, are found of various, colors,
but more frequently grey. The color, however, varies with the season
and often from other causes. Many of their habits are strikingly
similar to those of the domestic dog, with the simple difference
that the wolf is unreclaimed from his wild state. The connecting link
between the prairie wolf and the domestic dog is the cur found among
the Indians. The Indian cur, by a casual observer, could be easily
mistaken for a prairie wolf. Near the Rocky Mountains, and in them,
these animals are found of immense size; but, being cowardly, they are
not dangerous. The first night a person sleeps on a prairie is ever
afterwards vividly impressed upon his memory. The serenade of the
wolves with which he is honored, is apt to be distinctly remembered.
It is far from agreeable, and seldom fails to awaken unpleasant
forebodings concerning the future; and, the idea that these fellows
may be soon clearing his bones, is not very genial to the fancy. To
the wolf the graveyard is anything but consecrated ground; and, if a
person is very chary of his cadaver, he had better not leave it on the
Western Plains. The wolf is quite choice in his viands whenever the
opportunity offers, and will, at any time, leave the carcass of an
Indian for that of a white man. Old frontiersmen, speaking of the
wolves, usually style them as "their dogs;" and, after a night when
these animals have kept up an incessant barking, they will express
wonder by asking what has been disturbing "their hounds." The flesh of
the mountain wolf, when cooked, has something of the smell and taste
of mutton, but it is very rank.]

In order to frighten the wolves, the teamsters would occasionally
shoot them. One of the members of the expedition was obliged to take
a fresh rifle from a wagon. In taking the gun out, the hammer of the
lock caught against some projecting object, which caused it to be
partially set. Having become freed, however, before it was fully set,
it came down and fired the gun. The contents of the barrel were sent
through the man's arm. No member of the expedition was conversant with
surgical knowledge. Here was an occasion to shake the nerves of any
feeling man; and, beneath the rough exterior of the western ranger,
there runs as deep a stream of true humanity as can be found anywhere
on the American continent. Every suggestion was offered and every
effort was put forth which heart feeling chained to anxiety and the
terrible necessity, could offer. Every remedy which promised a good
result was duly weighed; and, if pronounced worthy of trial, it was
adopted. The sufferer had kind, though rough nurses; but, the absence
of scientific skill, under such emergency, proved a sad want for the
unfortunate man. Notwithstanding their united efforts, Broader's arm
grew alarmingly worse. It soon became manifest to all that he must
part with his arm, or lose his life; perhaps both. At this critical
period, a consultation was held, in which the suffering patient
joined. Due deliberation was extended to all the symptoms. The giving
of advice in such a council by men who could only give judgment from
an imaginary stand-point, must strike the heart of true sympathy
as having been painful in no ordinary degree. After every possible
argument had been offered in favor of saving the arm, the final
decision of the council was that it must come off. The next difficulty
which presented itself was quite as formidable as the expression of
a correct judgment. Who should perform the office of surgeon, was the
knotty question? Again the consultations became exciting and intensely
painful. The members of the council, however, took it upon themselves
to designate the persons, and chose Carson with two others. These
immediately set at work to execute their sad but necessary task. The
arrangements were all hastily, but carefully made, and the cutting
begun. The instruments used were a razor, an old saw; and, to arrest
the hemorrhage, the king bolt taken from one of the wagons was heated
and applied to serve as an actual cautery. The operation, rudely
performed, with rude instruments, by unpractised hands, excited to
action only by the spur of absolute necessity, proved, nevertheless,
entirely successful. Before the caravan arrived at Santa Fé the
patient had so far recovered that he was able to take care of himself.

Besides this unfortunate affair, nothing worthy of note transpired,
beyond the general record of their route, during the remainder of
their journey. The latter would be too voluminous for the general
reader, and has already served its purpose as an assistant to other
exploring parties, both from published account and conversational
directions. The party entered Santa Fé in the month of November. Very
soon after, Kit Carson left his companions and proceeded to Fernandez
de Taos, a Mexican town, which lies about eighty miles to the
northeast of the capital of New Mexico. During the winter that
followed his arrival in the territory of New Mexico, Kit lived with an
old mountaineer by the name of Kin Cade, who very kindly offered him a
home. It was at this period of his life that he commenced studying
the Spanish language. His friend Kin Cade became his assistant in this
task. At the same time Kit neglected no opportunity to learn all he
could about the Rocky Mountains. He little thought, then, that these
earth-formed giants were to become his future home, and so gloriously
to herald his name throughout the entire civilized globe.

The pinching effects of want now attacked poor Kit. He could obtain no
employment. His expectations in this respect, as well as his earnest
efforts, received so little encouragement that he began, finally,
to despond. Extreme poverty is a wet damper on the fires of the best
genius; but, as was the case with Kit, it does not effectually put
it out. Kit saw with sorrow that he must retrace his steps. To obtain
means to carry out his ardent desires, in the spring of 1827 he
started on a backward trip to Missouri. Every step he took in this
direction was accompanied with such displeasure, that had it not been
his best and surest policy, he would have mastered any difficulties
of another and better course, had such offered. Four hundred and fifty
miles from Santa Fé, being about one half the distance across the
prairies, had been accomplished by the party Kit had joined for this
homeward trip. The fording of the Arkansas River had been reached.
Here Kit's party met with some traders bound for New Mexico. They
offered him employment, which he gladly accepted; and, in their
company, retraced his steps back to Santa Fé But when arrived at
Santa Fé, Kit found himself again without money. He was afforded
an opportunity to obtain a wardrobe, but to the mountaineer, such
property would be entirely a superfluity. He feels nearly independent
on the score of clothing, as he considers that he needs but little
raiment, and that little he is always proud to owe to his beloved
rifle. This brings to his hand buckskins in plenty, and his own
ingenuity is the fashion-plate by which they are manufactured into
wearable and comfortable vesture. There is one article of clothing,
however, for which the frontiersman feels an ardent predilection. It
is a woollen shirt. This article, Kit really needed; and, in equal
pace with his necessity, ran his anxiety that something should offer
by which to obtain one. The reader may smile at this; and, so does Kit
at this day, as he recounts the fact in his own inimitable style. But
Kit says that to obtain a woollen shirt then, was, to him, no laughing
matter. At a moment when he almost despaired of gaining employment, he
received an offer to go as a teamster with an expedition bound to El
Paso. This opportunity was a chance for success not to be lost, and
he closed with the proposition. After faithfully performing his
engagement, he, however, returned to Santa Fé, where he made a short
stay, and then proceeded to Taos. In this town Kit entered into the
service of Mr. Ewing Young, who was a trader and trapper. The reader
may prepare again for a smile, as he will now learn that Kit became
a cook. Mr. Ewing Young has the satisfaction of boasting that the
renowned Kit Carson once performed the responsible and arduous duties
of a master cook in the culinary department of his establishment; and
that, for these valuable services, labor, care and diligence, he gave
to Kit, as a _quid pro quo_, his board. In this way Kit supported
himself in his straitened circumstances until the following spring.

What was the bright thought which made the bold, the ardent, the
energetic Kit Carson accept this menial office? Surely the brain metal
which was so brightly polished when he set out from Howard county,
Missouri, must have been sadly rusted. Not so! The hope which buoyed
up his spirits while he attempted to rival French pastry and English
beef with American venison and Buffalo meat on the table of Mr. Ewing
Young, was that some trapper, or hunter, would come into Taos, their
favorite place of resort; and, by being ready for an emergency, he
would obtain an opportunity for gaining a permission to join them. His
intention was certainly good, but it lacked the bright crown of good
intention--success. In the spring of 1828, much chagrined with his,
so far, continued bad luck, and no prospect of gaining his object
appearing, he again joined a homeward-bound party and with it,
sorrowfully, started for Missouri. But, as on the former trip
homeward, he met on the route a party bound for Santa Fé. That
indomitable ingredient in his composition, an iron will, caused him
once more to turn his face westward. He joined this party and returned
to Santa Fé, in order again to tempt fortune for an opportunity
to reach the Rocky Mountains. But during all these changes and
counterchanges Kit had not been idle. He had picked up considerable
knowledge, and, to his other stock of accomplishments, had added the
ability to speak the Spanish language.

On arriving once more at Santa Fé, he fell in with Col. Tramell, who
was at that time a well-known trader. Col Tramell needed a Spanish
interpreter. Kit obtained the post, and set out with him for
Chihuahua, one of the Mexican States. Here again Kit made a change in
his employment. In Chihuahua he fell in with Mr. Robert McKnight.
To him he hired out as a teamster, and in this capacity went to the
copper mines which are found near to the Rio Gila. Amid the weary
necessities of this humble but honorable calling, Kit's heart was
constantly alive with ambition to become a hunter and trapper. He knew
that he was expert with the rifle, which had been his boyish toy, and
felt confident that he could rely upon it as an assistant to gain an
honest living. His constant thought at this time was, let him now be
engaged in whatever calling chance offered and necessity caused him
to accept, the final pursuit of his life would be as a hunter and
trapper. Here, then, is presented a fair example of the strife, both
inward and outward, through which a young man of courage and ambition
must expect to pass before he can win position, influence, and the
comforts of life, whatever the scene of his action, or whatever the
choice of employment suitable to his talent and genius. Kit Carson
was determined, no matter what might be the obstacles which presented
themselves, to be a hunter and trapper.

The reader will have made a sad mistake if he has concluded, that
during the time which has intervened since Kit started from Missouri,
he has been roaming in a country where there was less danger than when
he was in the picketed fort with his father. Such a supposition would
be greatly at fault. The towns in New Mexico, at this early period,
were almost entirely at the mercy of the Indians. The Mexicans were
nearly destitute of means to defend themselves. Very few of the
Anglo-Saxon race had entered this territory, and those who had
were, in turn, exposed to the vacillating wills of the proverbially
treacherous Mexicans. A man like Kit Carson, however, born and bred in
danger, cared but little about this state of affairs. The dangers did
not enter into his calculations of chance to overcome the difficulties
which beset the pathway which the alluring hopes of his ambition had
marked out. Not long afterward, he left the copper mines, and once
more bent his steps to Taos, in company with a small party. At Taos,
he found a band of trappers which had been sent out by Mr. Ewing
Young. While _en route_ for the river Colorado of the _west_, in
pursuit of game, they had been attacked by a band of Indians. After
fighting an entire day, they had been compelled to retreat, and
returned to New Mexico.




CHAPTER II.

    The news of the Defeat of Mr. Young's Trapping Party by the
    Indians reaches Taos--Young raises a Party to chastise the
    Indians--Kit Carson becomes a Conspicuous Member of the
    Expedition--The Indians are found on Salt River--The
    Fight--Trapping Exploits--A new Country--Trials and
    Vicissitudes--Sacramento Valley--California and its Roman
    Catholic Missions in 1829--Another Indian Fight--Sale of
    Furs--Indian Depredations--Kit Carson and Twelve Trappers
    engage with the Indians in a Battle--Return to the Camp with
    recovered Property.


The news of the attack and defeat of his men by the Indians, was
brought to Mr. Ewing Young at Taos by a member of the unfortunate
expedition. On learning the causes which brought this unpleasant
termination to his enterprise, Mr. Young raised a party of forty men,
consisting of Americans, Canadians and Frenchmen, and put himself at
its head. Kit Carson was received into the party, and soon became
one of its most prominent and efficient aids. Mr. Young's object was
two-fold: first, to chastise the Indians; and, second, to make all he
could out of the expedition by employing the men in their calling
as trappers. Under the Mexican laws, licenses were required from the
government to all Mexicans who set out on trapping expeditions. These
were not granted to citizens of the United States. This was not
the mere will of governmental officials; the Mexican statutory law
prohibited the granting of licenses to citizens of the United States.
This law was, however, often made a dead letter by Americans; for,
they frequently, but stealthily evaded it. In order, therefore, to
hoodwink the Mexican authorities, Mr. Young had to resort to various
expedients. His preparations were so carefully and secretly made, that
the real business he had in contemplation did not transpire, or even a
suspicion gain currency as to his intended whereabouts.

In April, 1829, the party set out, eager to bring about results equal
to their anticipations. At first, to avoid the curiosity and inquiring
disposition of the Mexicans, they traveled northward, as if their
destination was into the territory of the United States. Hints had
been sufficiently freely bestowed upon the Mexicans to lead them to
believe that such was the destination of the party. After journeying
fifty miles in this direction, and feeling themselves free from the
scrutiny of the Mexican authorities, they changed their course to the
southwest, and travelled through the country occupied by the Navajoes,
who are an interesting and dangerous race of Indians, even to the
trader of this day. On their route, the company passed through Zuni,
a Peublo town; thence they traveled to the head of Salt River, one
of the tributaries of the Rio Gila. Here they discovered the band of
Indians who had attacked and defeated the former party. As soon as the
Indians discovered the party of trappers, they became eager for the
affray. The usual preliminaries for such fights were, therefore,
quickly made on both sides. Young directed the greater part of his men
to lie in ambush, for he felt confident that the Indians did not know
his strength. The bands of savages who covered the hills round about
mistook the halt necessary to complete the ambush for cowardice and
fear on the part of the whites. At this their courage arose, to such
a degree, that they made a bold charge against, as they supposed,
the small party of white men who were visible. They were allowed to
advance well into the trap, until, by the position of the trappers
in ambush, they came under a cross fire. At the word of command, a
general volley was fired into the advance column. Fifteen warriors
fell dead, and many others were wounded. The Indians became
panic-stricken, and the trappers immediately following up their
advantage, advanced from cover. The warriors did not rally for a
second attack, but fled in every direction, leaving Young, with his
party, masters of the field. Strange as it has ever seemed, to the
inquiring mind, in those days and for many succeeding years, companies
of white men from fifty to sixty in number could wage successful war
against whole tribes of Indians, who could easily muster a thousand
fighting men. A reason often given for this is, that the trappers of
the western wilds are invariably "dead shots" with the rifle and
well versed in Indian strategy. On the other hand, the red men were,
comparatively speaking, poorly armed, and could not travel together
for any length of time in large parties, because they depended for
food chiefly upon hunting. Had there existed no other cause, the means
of obtaining provision being limited, must have compelled them to
separate. Very frequently whole tribes are reduced to depend upon
daily hunts. The bravery of the Indians is of a different stamp from
that which is exhibited by the whites, especially where the white man
is a Simon-pure western trapper. The white man on the prairie or in
the mountains, knows but too well that if attacked by Indians he
must conquer or die. It was, and is, seldom that a company out on an
expedition has any place of refuge to which it may retreat. Here is
the principal reason why the trapper is so seldom defeated. He cannot
afford to lose his life to a certainty, and consequently will not
allow a defeat.

After this fight, Young's party trapped down the Salt River to San
Francisco River, and thence on up to the head of the latter stream.
The Indians failed not to hover on their pathway, and to make nightly
attacks upon their party. Frequently they would crawl into camp and
steal a trap, or kill a mule or a horse, and do whatever other damage
they could secretly. At the head of the San Francisco River the
company was divided. It was so arranged, that one party was to proceed
to the valley of the Sacramento in California. Of this detachment
Kit Carson was a member. The other party had orders to return to New
Mexico for the purpose of procuring traps to replace those stolen.
This latter party was also commissioned to take and dispose of the
stock of beaver already on hand. The party bound for California was
eighteen in number. Of this party Mr. Young took command. Previous to
setting out, a few days were devoted to hunting. They only succeeded,
however, in killing three deer. The meat of these animals they
prepared to take with them, as they were about to journey into a
country never before explored. The skins of the three deer were
converted into tanks for carrying water. They had learned from some
friendly Indians that the country over which they had to pass _en
route_ was destitute of water. The red men told them additionally
that the valley (meaning the Sacramento) was beautiful, and that the
streams were full of beaver. All of this information the trappers
found was true. For four days they travelled over a barren country,
where not one drop of water could be found. At each night's
camping-place, small allowances of water from the tanks was
distributed by the commander to each man and animal. A guard was then
stationed over the remainder to prevent any accident from depriving
the company of this now precious article of sustenance. At the close
of the fourth day, however, they again found water. The instinct
exhibited by the pack mules on this occasion was truly remarkable.
Long before any member of the party thought that water was so near,
the mules, with unerring certainty, had smelt it, and each one,
according to his remaining strength, had hurried on to partake of it.
The result was, that when the first mule had reached the water, the
remainder were scattered along upon the trail for a great distance.
The company encamped here, and remained two days to recruit.

The journey was renewed on the third day, the route being still over a
similar kind of country, necessitating both man and beast to submit to
similar privations as to water. In four days more they came in sight
of the great Cañon of the Colorado, which failed not to awaken a
thrill of delight in every member of the party. Just before reaching
the Cañon they met a party of Mohave Indians, of whom they purchased
an old mare. She was killed and eaten by the party with great gusto.
The party remained three days on the banks of the Colorado recruiting
their strength. While remaining here, another party of Mohave Indians
visited them, from whom they procured a small quantity of corn
and beans. Leaving the Colorado they recommenced their journey and
travelled southwest. In three days they arrived at a stream which
rises in the coast range, runs northeast and is lost in the sands of
the Great Basin. About two years previous to their arrival here, three
trappers by the names of Smith, Sublett, and Jackson, with a large
party of men, had a desperate fight in this neighborhood with hostile
Indians. They, also, had learned from friendly Indians of the wonders
of the Sacramento Valley, and were _en route_ to explore it when
attacked. Four only out of their entire company escaped with their
lives. These succeeded in making their way to the nearest Mexican
settlements, which they reached in a state of complete destitution,
after many hardships. Young and his party followed the dry bed of this
river for several days before they came to any visible water. It may
be interesting to some of our readers to know that there are many of
these curious rivers in western America, which, for miles disappear
from the surface of the earth, and, probably, run through the
quicksand beneath, as they reappear again. The outline of the river
usually exists between the place of its disappearance and the place
where the water again comes to the surface of the earth. By digging
a few feet into the sand within the outline, the water is generally
obtained. It takes but a short time, however, for the hole thus made
to fill up again. On quitting this river, the party journeyed to the
westward, and, in four days, came to the Mission of San Gabriel. Here
they found one Roman Catholic priest, fifteen Mexican soldiers, and
about one thousand Indians. Belonging to this little colony were
eighty thousand head of cattle, fine fields and vineyards. Literally
the work and life of the Jewish patriarchs were here being reënacted.

    "A shepherd on the mighty plain he watched his roving store."

To the half-starved followers of Mr. Young, this Mission appeared to
be a "Paradise of Earth." They remained here, however, but one day.
Having nothing else to trade, they parted with their butcher knives,
receiving for four of them one fat ox. It would all appear a fabulous
tale, were we to incorporate into this narrative a history, or even a
slight description of the immensity of the herds of horses and cattle
which once roamed over the plains and valleys of California and New
Mexico. It is but a few years since, that some wealthy Mexicans
owned herds in these parts of America which they numbered by tens of
thousands. They were, however, almost valueless for want of a market;
and, until the tide of emigration poured in, developing the resources
of the country by its demand for provisions and labor, horses and
cattle were sold for a mere trifle. In one day's march from San
Gabriel, Young and his party arrived at another Roman Catholic
Mission, called San Fernando. This establishment was on a much smaller
scale than the first. Young and his hardy followers, however, stopping
only for a few hours, pushed on for the Sacramento River, which proved
to be distant only a few days' march. Their course from San Fernando
was northeast. The last part of their journey led through a delightful
tract of country, where water, grass and game existed in abundance,
seemingly a foretaste of the success which awaited their further
advance. Selecting an eligible camping site, Young here rested his
party for some time. When they were fully recruited, the party started
for the San Joaquin, and commenced trapping down the river. What gave
the men great surprise, they discovered unmistakable signs of another
trapping party. In a short time it appeared that they were close to a
party belonging to the Hudson's Bay Company, commanded by Peter Ogden.
Young's men, however, continued setting their traps on the San Joaquin
and its tributaries. The two parties were near each other for some
time, and as deer, elk, and antelope existed by thousands around them,
which it was no trouble to kill in any numbers desirable, they
fared well. On again reaching the Sacramento River, the two parties
separated. Mr. Ogden, with his party, set out for the Columbia River,
while Mr. Young's party encamped where they were, for the remainder of
the summer. As the season for trapping had passed, they employed their
time in hunting and preparing meat for future necessity.

It was here that Kit Carson soon distinguished himself as a superior
hunter, which reputation he has maintained ever since, no matter who
have been his antagonists. Not but that Kit may have had his equals;
but that it is next to an impossibility to find his superior. At all
events, the world has given Kit Carson the title of "Nestor of the
Rocky Mountains," for his reputation as a hunter alone; and as his
biographer, we take pleasure in recording the facts by which the title
has been earned and maintained. Let the reader possess himself of the
facts, as they shall appear divested of any and every picture which
fancy or partiality may accidentally cause us to paint, and even then
Kit Carson will not lose the title. On the contrary, it will become
the more indelibly stamped upon his brow.

During the sojourn of the trappers on the Sacramento, an event
occurred which exhibited the readiness with which these men responded
to calls upon them for aid in a just cause. A few of the Indians
belonging to the Mission of the San Rafael, after committing some
excesses, deserted from those to whom they had pretended friendship.
The priest having charge of the Mission sent a strong force to search
for the fugitives. They were found secreted in an Indian village,
the inhabitants of which were not on friendly terms with the priest's
party. A demand was made that the deserters should be given up, which
being refused, a fight ensued, and the priest's party was defeated.
Assistance was now asked from the trappers. The request was complied
with by Carson and eleven of his companions, who volunteered for the
occasion. Thus reinforced, the vanquished party returned and resumed
the fight, but with a far different result. The Indian village was
captured and one third of its inhabitants killed. The day following
a second demand to deliver up the deserters was complied with. Carson
and his companions then left the priest's party and rejoined their
camp. A short time after this affair had happened, Mr. Young carried
the furs he had on hand to the Mission of San Rafael, where he was
so fortunate as to find a captain of a trading schooner to whom he
succeeded in disposing of the entire stock. With the money accruing
from the sale, he purchased horses and then rejoined his company.

A circumstance occurred a few days after Mr. Young's return, which
proved to be a good warning to the party for their future vigilance.
During one dark night, some Indians, eluding the watch of the
sentinels, succeeded in entering the camp and moving off sixty horses.
As soon as the robbery was discovered, which had been the more easily
accomplished because the trappers, not apprehending danger, had
allowed the animals to take care of themselves, Mr. Young directed
Kit Carson to take twelve men with the remaining horses, fourteen in
number, and pursue the thieves. Carson, in obedience to his orders,
immediately started for the Sierra Nevada Mountains, following the
trail of the Indians. After travelling one hundred miles he came up
with the robbers, and discovered them in the act of feasting upon
horse-flesh, six of their own animals having been killed to supply the
viands. Doubtless stolen fruit made the feast all the sweeter to the
savages, but Kit determined to mingle a little of the bitter as a
condiment to the roasted flesh. Gathering his men well together, and
approaching very close to the foe without being discovered, he gave
the order to charge. His men needed no second command. They fell upon
the feasting savages like a thunderbolt, scattering them right and
left without mercy. Eight of the warriors were killed in the short
conflict which ensued. The remainder were allowed to escape. With some
difficulty they next succeeded in recovering all their horses, except
the six which had been killed. With their horses, and three children
taken prisoners, they returned to camp. It is unnecessary to add that,
to men thus isolated in the wilderness, Kit and his party were hailed
with joyful greetings when their complete success became known. To
them their horses were like the good ship to the hardy sailors on the
mighty ocean. The joyful reaction which followed such complete success
was in ratio to the fears which the continuing suspense had excited.

Kit Carson, though at that day a youth in years and experience when
compared with the other members of the party of which he was then an
associate, had risen rapidly in the estimation of all, and had excited
the admiration and enlisted in his behalf the confidence of the entire
band. When called upon to add his counsel and advice to the general
fund of knowledge offered by the trappers concerning any doubtful or
difficult enterprise, his masterly foresight and shrewdness, as well
as clearness in attending to details, alone gave him willing auditors.
But it was the retired manner and modest deportment, which he
invariably wore, that won for him the love of his associates. Such
characteristics failed not to surprise, in no ordinary degree, those
who could boast a long lifetime of experience in Indian countries.
Kit Carson's powers of quickly conceiving thoughts, on difficult
emergencies, which pointed out the safest and best plans of action,
"just the things that ought to be done," and his bravery, which, in
his youth, sometimes amounted to rashness, were the component parts of
his ability which thus caused his companions to follow his leadership.
His courage, promptitude, willingness, self-reliance, caution,
sympathy, and care for the wounded, marked him at once as the
master-mind and safest counsellor. His first trapping expedition
gained him so much credit, that from the time it was concluded, he
found no difficulty in joining any band of trappers, no matter how
select the party. In this respect the mountaineers resemble sea-faring
men, who invariably dislike new and untried hands, because such are so
apt to give more trouble than assistance. Green hands, therefore, are
treated with indifference when they apply to be admitted as members on
a contemplated hunt. The reader will here see one difficulty which
had to be overcome by Carson, and which kept him so long in want of
employment. From this time Kit carried a rifle and worked from an
experience which commanded admiration, respect, and esteem wherever
he went, and with whatever party he became connected. Like the great
Napoleon, when he joined the army for his first campaign, he was a
hero in spite of his youth among men grown grey with experience.




CHAPTER III.

    The Return from California to New Mexico--San Fernando and the
    Peublo of Los Angelos--Description of these Peublos--Passports
    demanded at Los Angelos--Trouble with the Mexican
    Authorities--Kit Carson sent on with the Pack Animals
    One Trapper shoots another--The Mexicans become
    frightened--Indians come into Camp with their Weapons
    concealed--Cool Reception by Kit Carson--Arrival at Santa
    Fé and Taos--Money realized soon parted with--Carson joins
    another Expedition--The Rivers trapped on--Four Men Killed
    by Blackfeet Indians--Kit Carson joins Gaunt's Party--The
    Parks--Winter Quarters--Crow Indian Depredations--Kit
    Carson and his Party in Pursuit--the Fight--Winter on the
    Arkansas--Another Expedition--Two Deserters--Kit Carson
    sent in Pursuit--The Fate of the Runaways--Adventures with
    Indians--Hair-breadth Escape made by Kit Carson.


In September, Mr. Young, having accomplished all that he had intended,
informed his men that he was going to New Mexico. The homeward
route was through most of the country over which they had previously
traveled. The preparations for the journey having been completed, the
party started, touching on the way at the Mission of San Fernando, and
thence through to the Peublo of Los Angelos. Scattered over various
parts of the dominion of Old Mexico are these Peublos, or Indian
villages, called so because they are inhabited by Indians who bear
that name. These are the true descendants of the ancient Aztecs, who
were once the subjects of the Montezumas. They are usually a quiet
and industrious race, and are most devout in their religious worship,
according to the principles, forms, and ceremonies of the Roman
Catholic Church. They have not failed to inherit the superstition of
their forefathers. Not withstanding the changes which time, with its
cohorts of emigration, books, religious teachings, association with
other races, mechanics, science and art, in greater or less degree,
has introduced into their country, and accomplished under their eyes,
they still believe that some day their great chief will return to
them; accordingly, in each and every one of their towns, they keep a
watch-fire burning, in order, on his advent, to let him know where his
children live.

At Los Angelos the Mexican authorities came to the trappers and
demanded their passports. On finding that such articles of paper
authority did not form any part of a trapper's outfit, they determined
to arrest them. Fear, however, prevented their determination from
assuming any very formidable action. Former experience in a similar
matter of official duty had taught those Mexicans that the American
trappers were men of a peculiarly resolute nature. Fair and legitimate
means were therefore laid aside, and a foul policy adopted. They
commenced supplying them with "firewater," thus attacking them in a
weak point. When they should become fully inebriated they considered
the matter of their arrest both easy and certain.

Mr. Young, seeing the intentions of the authorities, and their
underhanded method of carrying them out, determined to thwart them.
He directed Carson to take three men, the loose animals and the camp
equipage, and move on, with the instructions, that if he did not soon
join him, to push on; that if he did not eventually overtake him, to
report in New Mexico that the main party had been massacred. Young
succeeded in collecting his men as best he could, for they were yet
sufficiently sober to retain a little of their reason. The treacherous
Mexicans, however, continued annoying the commander of the trappers by
gratuitously offering the men all the liquor they desired. One by one,
the trappers were allowing themselves to be easily conquered, as the
effects of the liquor began to be more active. They would soon have
fallen a complete prey to their enemies, had not a most singular
circumstance put the Mexicans to flight. One of the trappers, named
James Higgins, without any provocation and without any excuse, except
that he was intoxicated, shot a man named James Lawrence, inflicting
a slight wound. Such conduct so terrified the Mexicans that they took
sudden and precipitous leave. This happened, very fortunately, before
the party arrived at the mission of San Gabriel, where they would
all have been arrested, and perhaps killed, by the Mexicans, aided by
parties and reinforcements at the mission.

About dark, Young, by urging his half-drunken men into a forced march,
succeeded in overtaking Carson. At the first supply of water, they
went into camp. A night of sleep soon set the brains of Young's
trappers once more to rights. The next day the party, most of them
sufficiently ashamed of their drunken debauch, commenced with vigor
the homeward march. They continued nine days almost upon their former
track, when outward bound. On the ninth day, they once more stood on
the banks of the Colorado River.

While encamped on this stream, a band of five hundred Indians made
their appearance and entered the camp. The rascals professed the
greatest friendship for the trappers, but their actions not fully
measuring their words, the white men looked to Carson for advice. He
had discovered that beneath their articles of dress their weapons were
very carefully concealed; and from this circumstance it became quite
clearly apparent the Indians intended to massacre the entire party.
Here Carson's boldness proved, as it had before, and did many a time
afterwards, the safety of himself and friends or associates. At the
time the Indians entered the camp, Carson, with only a few of the
party, occupied it; the rest were out visiting their traps, which it
was their general custom to set whenever they arrived at a suitable
stream. Kit having thus become satisfied concerning the design of the
savages, and feeling that the salvation of the entire party rested
upon his courage and wisdom, made up his mind that boldness was the
wisest policy he could adopt. He found present among the warriors one
who could speak the Spanish language. Through him he ordered the
red men "to leave the camp. In the event of their not doing so
immediately, he and his friends would, without further parley,
commence hostilities, and would be sure each in killing his man,
although they might all in the end lose their own lives."

The Indians had been accustomed to act about as they chose with such
small parties of Mexicans as they chanced to meet, and consequently
were taken completely by surprise at Kit's unusual boldness. Seeing
that they would inevitably lose several of their braves if they
made any hostile demonstration, they chose the discreet part of best
policy, and departed. As a general rule, no matter what the profit or
urgent necessity which chance offers, these Indians will not hazard a
contest when, to a certainty, they must expect their own killed will
equal the number of scalps which they can obtain. This rule, and
doubtless some fearfulness on the part of the Indians, saved the lives
of the entire band.

As has already appeared, the trappers were on the banks of the
Colorado at the time this affair happened. They continued their work
on it, descending the south side until they reached tide water, when
they changed their camp on to the Gila, and continued trapping up this
river as far as the mouth of the San Pedro. Near the outlet of this
river, they discovered a large herd of horses and mules; on a closer
examination, they found that they were in the possession of a band
of Indians who had formerly given them some of their gratuitous
hostilities. Not having forgotten their former troubles with these
people, they determined to pay them off in their own coin by depriving
them of the herd. A short search sufficed to discover the Indian camp.
Without waiting an instant, they put their horses to their speed and
charged in among the huts. The Indians were so completely taken by
surprise, that they became panic-struck and fled in every direction.
They, however, rallied somewhat, and a running fight commenced which
lasted some time, but which did not change matters in favor of the
Indians. The entire herd fell into the possession of the trappers.

On the same evening, after the men had wrapped themselves up in their
blankets and laid down for a sleep, and while enjoying their slumbers,
a noise reached their ears which sounded very much like distant
thunder; but a close application of the sense of hearing showed
plainly that an enemy was near at hand. Springing up, with rifle in
hand--for generally in the mountains a man's gun rests in the same
blanket with himself on all sleeping occasions--they sallied forth to
reconnoitre, and discovered a few warriors driving along a band of at
least two hundred horses. The trappers comprehended instantly that the
warriors had been to the Mexican settlements in Sonora on a thieving
expedition, and that the horses had changed hands with only one party
to the bargain. The opportunity to instill a lesson on the savage
marauders was too good to be lost.

They saluted the thieves with a volley from their rifles, which, with
the bullet-whizzing about their heads and bodies, so astonished them,
that they seemed almost immediately to forget their stolen property,
and to think only of a precipitous flight. In a few moments, the
whites found themselves masters of the field, and also of the
property. To return the animals to their owners was an impossibility;
Mr. Young, therefore, selected as many of the best horses as he needed
for himself and men, and game being very scarce, killed two and dried
most of the meat for future use, turning the remainder loose. Such
either became wild mustangs or fell again into the clutches of the
Indians. The company then renewed their trapping, and continued it up
the Gila to a point opposite the copper mines of New Mexico. Here they
left the river and proceeded to the copper mines, where they found Mr.
Robert McKnight engaged in trading with the neighboring Indian tribes.
These mines were not then, and ever since have not been, worked. The
holes which had many years before been made by the miners--but who
they were is unknown--formed a safe hiding-place for their skins. The
stock of beaver was therefore placed under the care of Mr. McKnight.
Young and his men then renewed their march, and in due time arrived
safely at Santa Fé. Here they purchased licenses to trade with the
Indians who live about the copper mines. With these licenses as
protection papers, they returned to where the skins were concealed.
Having once more recovered their fur, they returned with it to Santa
Fé. The deserted mines of New Mexico show incontrovertible signs
of having been successfully and extensively worked, at some remote
period, for various kinds of metals. They have proved a knotty
historical problem to many an investigating mind; for their authentic
history has fallen, and probably will ever remain in oblivion. It
may have been that about a century ago the Spaniards, with Indian
assistants, worked them; and the savages becoming hostile to their
employers, in some sudden fit of frenzy may have massacred the
Spaniards. There is a legendary story circulating, similar to the
traditions of the Indians, giving this explanation. The more probable
hypothesis, however, is that the Indians themselves, many centuries in
the past, were versed to some extent in the art of mining, and carried
on the business in these mines; but from indolence or, to them,
uselessness of the metals, the work was abandoned, and their
descendants failed to obtain the knowledge which their ancestors
possessed. These mines, and those which exist nearer to the large
towns, will some day render New Mexico a profitable and rich field for
the learned antiquary.

The ruse which Mr. Young found absolutely necessary to employ, in
order to blind the Mexican authorities, succeeded so well, that when
the fur arrived at Santa Fe, every one considered the trappers had
made a very good trade. The amount of beaver thus brought in amounted
to two thousand pounds. The market price was twelve dollars the pound.
The proceeds, therefore, of the entire trip were nearly twenty-four
thousand dollars. The division of this handsome sum gave to each man
several hundred dollars. It was during the month of April, 1830, that
Mr. Young's party again reached the town of Taos. Here they disbanded,
having completed their enterprise. Like as Jack, when he returns
from his battles with old ocean, having a pocket well lined with hard
earnings, fails not to plunge into excess, with the determination to
make up for the pleasure lost by years of toil, the brave mountaineers
courted merrymaking. From their own accounts, they passed a short
time gloriously. This similarity of disposition between trappers and
sailors, in regard to pleasure's syren cup and its consequent draft
upon their treasures, causing them to forget the risk of life and
limb and the expense of their valuable time, is most remarkable. These
hardy trappers, like reliable old salts, proved to be as true to the
bowl as they had been to their steel; for, most of the party, in a
very brief space of time, were penniless and ready to be fitted
out for another expedition. Young Kit, at this period of his life,
imitated the example set by his elders, for he wished to be considered
by them as an equal and a friend. He, however, passed through
this terrible ordeal, which most frequently ruins its votary,
and eventually came out brighter, clearer and more noble for the
conscience-polish which he received. He contracted no bad habits,
but learned the usefulness and happiness of resisting temptation, and
became so well schooled that he was able, by the caution and advice of
wisdom founded on experience, to prevent many a promising and skillful
hand from grasping ruin in the same vortex.

The scenes of pleasure lasted until the fall of 1830. Kit then joined
his second trapping expedition. This band had been formed for the
purpose of trapping the principal streams of the Rocky Mountains. Mr.
Fitzpatrick, a trapper well known and respected by the mountaineers,
had charge of the party. He was, at that time, well acquainted by
experience with the Rocky Mountains, and has, since then, gained an
enviable fame as an Indian Agent. The new party travelled North and
commenced operations on the Platte River, which they followed down
stream to one of its tributaries, the Sweet Water River. From
here they worked on until they reached the Green River. Hence they
journeyed to Jackson's Hole, which is a fork of the Great Columbia
River. After making a short stay at this point they started for the
Salmon River. Here they were joined by a band of their own party, who
had left Taos some days in advance of the main body, and for whom they
were then hunting. The whole party, as now organized, remained where
they were throughout the winter of 1830 and 1831, employed in killing
only the amount of game necessary for their sustenance. An unfortunate
affair here happened to them. Four of their men, while hunting
buffalo, were attacked and killed by a party of Blackfeet Indians.
No other incident occurred during the winter to change the everyday
routine. In April of 1831, they recommenced trapping, shaping their
course for Bear River. This is the principal stream that empties into
GREAT SALT LAKE. Thence they returned to Green River, where they found
some Trappers under the command of Mr. Sinclair, who left New Mexico
soon after Mr. Fitzpatrick's party and had wintered on the Bear River.
Among many other facts, they learned from this party that Captain
Gaunt, who was an old mountaineer well known to most of the whites
present, had passed the winter on the Laramie River, and that he
was then with his men in the New Park. Kit Carson and four of his
companions determined to join him. For this purpose they started, and,
after ten days of steady travel, found his party.

There are two of these natural Parks in the Rocky Mountains. To
distinguish them they are called the Old Park and the New Park. As
their names imply, they are fair natural examples of the manufactured
parks of civilization. In some things nature has lavished upon them
charms and beauties which no human skill can imitate. These parks are
favorite haunts of the deer, antelope and elk, while the streams which
run through them are well stocked with otter and beaver. Kit and
his companions were graciously received by Gaunt; and, with him they
trapped the streams in the vicinity of the New Park and the plains of
Laramie to the South fork of the Platte. Having finished here, they
left for the Arkansas, remaining there while their captain went to
Taos to dispose of their stock of furs and to make such purchases of
necessaries as the men required. Gaunt returned after an absence of
two months; when, trapping operations were resumed on the Arkansas
River, which they trapped until it froze over. The party then went
into Winter Quarters.

The business of trapping for beaver is no child's play. A person
unaccustomed to it may possibly look upon it as no very difficult
task. A single trial is usually sufficient to satisfy the uninitiated
on this point; for, the beaver, above all other wild animals of
America is endowed with an extraordinary amount of instinct. His
handiwork and habits sufficiently attest this.

There are bands of Indians living in the Northwestern part of America
who really believe that the beaver has almost as much intelligence as
an Indian, holding and maintaining that all the difference that exists
between a beaver and an Indian, is, that the latter has been endowed
by the Great Spirit with power and capabilities to catch the former.
Some of the stories which old mountaineers occasionally inflict upon
an inquisitive traveller are somewhat startling; nevertheless, what
this amphibious animal really performs is truly astounding, and
oftentimes the truth fails to gain credence.

During the winter the trappers had many very pleasant times, for they
had little work beyond the task of making themselves comfortable.
The snow fell to a great depth, which proved rather hard for their
animals. By dint of cutting down cottonwood trees and gathering the
bark and branches for fodder, they managed to prevent them from dying
of starvation. The buffalo existed about there in great abundance;
and, early in the winter, they had taken the precaution to kill and
prepare a large supply of this kind of game, while it was in good
condition. As the season advanced therefore, the trappers found
themselves living quite sumptuously.

In the month of January, the daily routine of their lives was
rather unpleasantly disturbed. A party of fifty Crow Indians made an
unfriendly visit to their camp on one very dark night. They succeeded
in stealing nine of their loose animals, with which they escaped
unperceived. Early the next morning, the _signs_ of the Indians were
discovered. Kit Carson, with twelve of his companions, immediately
saddled their horses and started in pursuit. It was very difficult
to follow the trail of the Indians from the fact that many herds of
buffalo had crossed and repeatedly recrossed it during the night,
making the tracks very indistinct. Having traveled forty miles, their
horses, which were very poor in flesh, became fatigued, causing them
to think of making a halt. After due consultation, it was agreed that
they had best go into camp. With this object in view they traveled
towards some timber which was near by. On arriving at the woods,
the advance of the party, to their surprise and not less to their
satisfaction, discovered the smoke of their enemies' fires. The
distance between the parties was inconsiderable; but, in order that
their movements might be made unobserved, the trappers retreated to
a secluded spot where they awaited the night, judging it best to take
the party by surprise. Their first care was to secure and provide for
their animals. The second was to prepare their arms. As soon as it
would do for them to move, they started, eager for the strife. It was
judged best first to make a half circuit and then approach the Indians
from the direction they themselves were travelling, as from this
source, they wisely judged the red men would be less apprehensive of
an attack. Their movements were made slowly and with great care in
order not to alarm the savages. Having obtained a position close
enough to observe the strength of their enemies, they stopped to
reconnoitre. The men then crept for a long distance on their hands and
knees until finally they obtained a full view of the Indians, which
showed them that the savages had erected two rough forts and that they
were now divided into two parties. A dance was in progress in honor of
the robbery so recently perpetrated, which proved conclusively, that
they were without even a suspicion of danger. Just outside one of the
forts, the nine stolen animals were securely tied. This sight did not
tend to allay the wrath of the trappers. They resolved that come what
might the attempt to regain their property and punish the Indians
should be made notwithstanding their strength. To insure success in
spite of their weakness, they determined to conceal themselves and
wait quietly until the Indians had lain down for sleep. During this
time of suspense the trappers were subjected to great suffering
for the weather was intensely cold and they possessed but a scanty
allowance of clothing fit for such work. But as there is an end to all
things, there was an end to the dance and other festivities and the
savages sought their rest. At last the time for action arrived. Kit
Carson and five of his companions commenced crawling towards the
stolen horses, which, on reaching, were easily set free by cutting
their halters. They then threw snow-balls at them and by this means
drove them away without disturbing the sleeping Indians. The trappers
who acted as a reserve party soon after joined Kit and his companions;
and, after retreating some distance in order to be out of the hearing
of the enemy, they held a council to obtain the views of each member
of the party as to their next step. It appeared that a difference of
opinion existed; some of the men were in favor of returning, having
recovered their property and sustained no damage. The remainder,
those who had lost no animals, wanted satisfaction for the trouble
and hardship they had undergone while in pursuit of the thieves.
Kit Carson and two others composed this latter party and thus were
determined to punish the thieves, let the consequences of the attempt
be ever so fatal. The more peaceful party, seeing this earnestness,
could not do otherwise than lend their aid in the fight and cheerfully
did so.

There always existed such a feeling of brotherly love among the old
trappers of the Rocky Mountains, that the hour of peril was never the
hour for separation or desertion. This instance affords a fair example
how the minority could easily rule the majority when the minority held
to the side of danger. The whole band were now unanimous in favor of
the attack.

Kit Carson, who had from the first acted as captain, ordered three
men to take the recovered animals back to where they had secured their
saddle horses. Then, with his comrades, he marched directly for the
Indian camp. A dog belonging to the enemy first gave the alarm of
approaching danger to the Indians; but not until Kit and his party
were within a few paces of the first fort. As soon as the occupants
of the fort heard the noise they sprang to their feet, and thus became
fair marks for the unerring rifles of the trappers. The whites did not
throw away a single shot; every ball struck a warrior in some vital
spot. Those who survived retreated to the fort occupied by their
friends, and, as soon as possible, commenced returning the fire; but
without execution, as the trappers, on discharging their first volley,
had well concealed themselves behind trees, from whence they were
shooting only when sure of an object. It was now nearly daybreak; and
as the savages discovered the weakness of the attacking party, they
resolved to charge, feeling sure of success. They did so; but the
white men, who were expert fighters in this kind of warfare, quietly
waited until the Indians were fully exposed. They then fired and
killed five warriors. The remainder immediately retreated into the
fort.

After considerable deliberation, the Indians decided once more to make
a sortie. On they came, and this time with such determination that
the trappers could not withstand the assault, but were compelled to
retreat. They disputed, however, every inch of ground over which they
trod, as they fell back from one tree to another, continually making
their bullets tell with terrible effect on their foes. The three men
who had been sent back with the horses had joined their comrades soon
after they had commenced retreating. They had heard the incessant
firing and had become convinced that the fight was hotly contested and
that their services were required. On their joining, the whole party
resolved to make one more stand, and as soon as the Indians saw this,
they wavered and finally drew off. Both sides had now, seemingly, had
enough of fighting, and hostilities soon after entirely ceased, the
savages marching back and leaving the whites masters of the field.
Several of the trappers were slightly, but none dangerously, wounded.
The Indians had paid dearly, in numbers killed, for their rascality.
Finding the coast clear, Carson and his men set out and soon rejoined
their comrades on the Arkansas River. In the Spring, after having
_cached_ their fur, the whole band departed for Laramie River on
another expedition.

While on the south fork of the Platte, two of the party deserted,
taking with them three of their best animals. Suspecting their design,
Gaunt sent Kit Carson and another man in pursuit of the fugitives, who
had one day the start. As was suspected, the two deserters had gone
to the camp where the beaver fur was concealed and buried. They had
succeeded in digging it up and stealing about three hundred pounds of
this valuable property, belonging to the company in general, share and
share alike. Carson and his companion failed entirely in their
efforts to find the two men. Doubtless they never lived to enjoy their
ill-gotten wealth; for, notwithstanding careful search was made, the
men were never heard from afterwards. It is probable that they were
killed by Indians, a fate which they, at least, richly merited.

This old camp, the reader will please bear in mind, was on the
Arkansas River. Kit Carson and his comrade, after finding that the two
deserters had thus succeeded in stealing the fur which had been buried
by the company, made every further effort which lay in their power
to recover it. As has also been seen, they were unsuccessful. It now
remained for them to determine their future course. The country was so
infested with hostile Indians that it made their position, thus
alone, very precarious. To regain their commander's company was almost
impracticable; at least, without a more important object to make the
risk necessary, it was a foolhardy attempt. Time in learning the loss
was of no great importance either to their leader or their party.
Sooner or later this, as a matter of course, would be fully shown. Kit
and his comrade, therefore, determined to remain where they were, in
the old camp; and, to this end, immediately arranged everything so
that they could make a successful defence in case they should be
attacked by the savages. They did not dare to venture out far from
their fortifications; but, this was no great trial to them, as game
existed in great plenty and came very near their fortifications. While
one slept, the other stood on guard. It was their intention to await
the return of their party; but, at the expiration of one month,
they were quite happily relieved from their perilous position. Mr.
Blackwell, Mr. Gaunt's partner, arrived from the United States. He was
accompanied by fifteen men, and brought with him a complete outfit
for the entire band. Kit and his comrade had been expecting and were
anxiously looking for this party. They were also made quite happy in
obtaining the articles of outfit which would render their wild life
more agreeable and easy. Shortly after this arrival, four men from
the trapping party came into camp and brought the news as to the
whereabouts of Gaunt and his men. They were overjoyed at finding Kit
and his comrade, as they said that they had hunted for them in all
directions; and, finally had given up all hopes of ever seeing them
again. The whole party now began the march to join Gaunt at the Ballo
Salado.[3]

[Footnote 3: Salt Springs.]

These Springs form the head waters of the south fork of the River
Platte. When four days' journey had been accomplished, and while they
were partaking of their breakfast in camp, an alarm of Indians was
given by one of the men. He had accidentally discovered the red skin
rascals as they were prowling about the camp. A rush was instantly
made by the trappers, with rifles in hand, to save their horses.
Shots were fired and one Indian fell. The rest of the band made off as
empty-handed as they came, with one exception. One brave had succeeded
in capturing and mounting a horse before the white men could reach
him. Notwithstanding he had a dead brother lying on the ground, he
appeared to be altogether too polite to make the trappers a longer
visit; at least, without a proper introduction. On the contrary, he
galloped off; seemingly, quite proud of his trophy. Had it not been
that the trappers had taken the precaution to hobble their horses
before turning them out to graze, they would have lost them all in
this attempted stampede.[4]

[Footnote 4: These stampedes are a source of great profit to the
Indians of the Plains. It is by this means they deprive the caravans
of their animals. The Camanches are particularly expert and daring
in this kind of robbery. They even train horses to run from one given
point to another in expectancy of caravans. When a camp is made which
is nearly in range they turn their trained animals loose, who at once
fly across the plain, penetrating and passing through the camp of
their victims. All of the picketed animals will endeavor to follow,
and usually succeed in following, the trained horses. Such are
invariably led into the haunts of the thieves, who easily secure them.
Young horses and mules are easily frightened; and, in the havoc which
generally ensues, oftentimes great injury is done to the runaways
themselves. The sight of a stampede on a grand scale requires steady
nerves to witness without tremor; and, woe to the footman who cannot
get out of the way when the frightened animals come along. At times,
when the herd is very large, the horses scatter over the open country
and are irrecoverably lost; and, such as do not become wild, fall a
prey to the ravenous wolves. Such, most frequently, is the fate of
stampeded horses which have been bred in the States, not being trained
by a prairie-life experience to take care of themselves. Instead of
bravely stopping and fighting off the wolves, they run. The whole pack
are sure to leave the bolder animals and make for the runaways, which
they seldom fail to overtake and dispatch. Four years since, one of
these stampedes occurred on the Plains of a band of horses, in which
there were several hundred valuable animals. It was attended with very
heavy loss to the owners. Through the courage and great exertions of
those who had the animals in charge, many were recovered, but none
without having sustained more or less injury.

A favorite policy of the Indian horse thieves is to creep into camp,
cut loose one animal and thoroughly frighten him. This animal seldom
fails to frighten the remainder, when away they all go with long ropes
and picket pins dangling after them. The latter sometimes act like
harpoons, being thrown with such impetus as to strike and instantly
kill a valuable steed from among the brother runaways. At other times,
the limbs of the running horses get entangled in the ropes, when they
are suddenly thrown. Such seldom escape without broken legs or severe
contusions, which are often incurable. The necessity of traveling on,
at any rate, renders it an impossibility to undertake the cure, when
it might be practicable under other circumstances.]

This day the party travelled fifty miles and thought themselves clear
of Indians, as there were no visible signs of their presence. The
experience of the day, however, had admonished them to be on their
guard against surprise. To make things sure as to their animals, they
fastened them to stakes driven in the earth, sufficient rope being
given them for grazing. The place selected for their camp was a
beautiful spot, being on a small stream which empties into the
Arkansas, the water of which is sparkling and clear. There are many of
these charming little brooks which, emptying into, form this river.
To the general traveler, however, they present one great drawback as
eligible camping sites. Their banks are usually pretty thickly lined
with rattlesnakes. The mountaineer is quite well accustomed and
reconciled to this venomous reptile, as they abound in nearly every
section of his hunting and trapping grounds. Not so however with the
mere visitor of, or casual traveller over, the Western Territories. To
them his rattlesnake-ship is a formidable personage.

The rattlesnake rarely moves after sunset. The night air is generally
too chilling for him. In the day time they are a noble enemy, always
warning their antagonist of their hostile intentions by springing
their rattles, thus giving a person warning of his danger. By these
two wise provisions of the Creator the power of this otherwise
terrible reptile, is so limited or restrained, that the trapper rarely
gives him a thought unless he comes in direct contact. Although they
are so numerous, it very seldom happens that either the Indian or the
trapper is bitten by them.

The party had not been long at rest before their suspicions were
aroused that hostile Indians were near them. A faithful dog belonging
to the camp kept up a furious barking, much more lustily than when
wolves annoyed him. An extra guard was therefore immediately posted,
when the remainder of the party lay down; but, not for sleep. They
expected at every moment that their services would be needed to defend
the camp. Everything however passed as usual during the night; and,
with the morning, all suspicion was laid aside. Kit Carson, with three
companions, proposed a visit to a fork of a river close by, to look
for signs of beaver. They had been informed that these animals were
numerous in this particular stream. Carson and the three men had
been absent about one hour when the signs of Indians proved to be
realities, in the shape of a bold and well-sustained charge upon their
camp. The rascals succeeded in running off all of their loose animals.

Four of the men immediately saddled the fleetest of the remaining
horses and instantly gave chase. After a quick run they came up with
the savages and immediately gave them battle. A sharp skirmish ensued
in which one of the warriors was killed, when the remainder fled,
leaving the property once more in the hands of its rightful owners.
The men however did not come off entirely safe. One of them received
a very severe wound; which, eventually, gave him considerable
difficulty; but from the effects of which he finally recovered.

Kit and his companions in the mean time, in order to reach their
destination, found it necessary, unless they should take a long and
circuitous route, to cross one of those lofty peaks for which the
Rocky Mountains are so famous. The ascent was however commenced and
successfully accomplished; but, not without labor and an occasional
resting-place being sought for breathing their animals. In due time,
they reached the desired stream; but, the beaver signs did not appear.
Finding their errand had proved entirely useless, they started to
return into camp. Experience had taught them that the longest way
round was, in this case, the quickest way home. Taking therefore a
circuitous route, they avoided recrossing the lofty mountain peak
already alluded to. As they were riding carelessly homeward, beguiling
the time with anecdote and remark upon their future prospects, the
scenery around them, with an occasional sight at some kind of game,
what should appear ahead of them but four Indian warriors, remarkably
well mounted, painted and decked with feathers, showing, conclusively,
that they were out upon the war-path. As soon as Kit and his
companions saw the warriors, and without one word as to their proper
and best action being interchanged, they simultaneously put spurs to
their horses and dashed at the Indians in order quickly to bring
them within range of their rifles. The pace became a hot one; but, as
suddenly as the charge had been commenced, so suddenly the trappers
found that they had, this time "caught a Tartar;" for, as they dashed
on, sixty warriors, fully armed and splendidly mounted, came into view
from beneath a hill where they were awaiting in ambush.

There was but one course for the trappers to take and that was to run
the gauntlet, which they did in gallant style, although twenty yards
would have frequently measured the distance between them and the
hostile savages. The bullets from the rifles of the Indians flew about
their ears thick and fast, for a heavy fire was opened upon them,
as they passed, and incessantly kept up until they were out of their
reach. The trappers did not return a shot. It would not have been
according to their custom. There is no one thing Simon-pure trappers
consider to be a greater folly than firing their rifles on such an
occasion as is here described. There is nothing they so much dread as
being left on foot with an empty gun and no time to load, when perhaps
a single shot might change defeat into victory; sure captivity into
freedom, or a dead companion into a laughing, jolly and lovable
help-mate, ready for setting a trap or to engage in the next bloody
skirmish. This must inevitably happen if, after the rider has fired,
among the score or so of passing bullets, one of them, perchance, took
a peculiar fancy for a vital organ of his horse. The mortally wounded
animal would make no account of dismounting his master and leaving
him to the tender mercies of the refined savages. In every close and
unequal contest, such as above detailed, they only think of the surest
and speediest method of escape, leaving revenge to be obtained on some
more fitting and favorable occasion. For some unaccountable reason the
savages did not give chase.

As soon as Carson and his comrades had got out of the reach of the
Indians they began to recall the suspicions concerning signs of
Indians which their faithful dog had aroused. Fears for the safety of
their companions arose accordingly. Therefore, giving spurs to their
horses they pushed on with vigor to know the worst. The facts that
awaited them at camp concerning the attack by the Indians, stealing
and rescue of the horses gave them therefore but little surprise. They
had already surmised the reason why the Indians had thus set a trap
for them. Having been watching the camp during the night and finding
the white men fully on the alert and carefully guarding against any
surprise, they had quietly waited until suspicion of their proximity
had been entirely laid aside. The departure of Carson and his
companions from camp was doubtless seen by the savages and afforded
them a clear proof that the white men had forgotten their fears. As
Kit's departure with the men weakened the camp party the Indians had
gathered together sufficient courage to make a bold charge for the
coveted plunder. The final result, however, which led to their losing
the stolen property, and the life of one of their braves, had caused
them to think of an attack upon Kit's party; thus, obtaining by its
massacre, revenge for their dead companion; and, the horses which Kit
and his comrades rode would have been a consolation for their failure
to retain the horses obtained at the camp. The attack was skillfully
planned and would undoubtedly have succeeded, but for the unexpected
daring and promptitude displayed by Kit and his comrades. The Indians
had not looked for the bold charge upon their advance party; but,
on the contrary, they had been prepared for a chase and fight in the
opposite direction. Had such a skirmish taken place, nothing beyond
an absolute miracle, or change of the laws of nature, could have saved
the little band. Kit and his friends had reason, therefore, to be very
thankful for their safety. They all felt that they had retained their
scalps by a very close shave. To use the expressive language of Carson
employed in narrating the event "The red skins made a good attempt
but, thank God, failed."

Two of the trappers had received, in this affray, wounds; which proved
to be of a serious nature: much more so than they or their companions
thought on the first examination given them. In consequence, the whole
party was obliged to halt and again go into camp, having accomplished
but a very short remove from their savage foes. It became necessary
to maintain a strong and careful guard during the succeeding night,
notwithstanding the labors of the past day and night had been more
than usually arduous. However, they succeeded in passing the night
without further molestation. The next morning, it was found necessary
to make a litter for one of the wounded men whose condition had grown
to be much worse.

The method which the mountaineers adopt for making a litter, they have
taken from the Indians, and is as follows. Take two strong poles, six
feet of which, at either extremity, is allowed for shafts, or handles,
while the patient lies in the intermediate space on a buffalo robe, or
strong sacking, which-ever is most convenient. Two mules or horses
of the same size are then selected; and, to saddles upon each of the
animals, the poles, at their extremities, are fastened. Another and
simpler plan, but one not so comfortable to the patient, is to take
the two poles as before and attach them strongly to a saddle on but
one animal, while the two ends are allowed to drag upon the ground.
Directly in the rear of the horse the patient's bed is affixed. If the
poles are long they will act as springs, especially when the wood used
is of a kind which has considerable elasticity.

Having arranged everything to the satisfaction and comfort of the
wounded men, the party commenced their march and in four days reached
Gaunt's camp where they rested until the wounded men had nearly
recovered. This simple fact shows the careful and sympathizing care
which the mountaineers of the west ever exhibit towards each other in
distress. It speaks more than would volumes of mere praise, concerning
their character for true manhood.

When the wounded men had so far recovered that they could safely
proceed, the whole party, now quite strong in its numerical power, as
well as skill and mountaineer experience, departed for, and, in due
time, arrived at the Old Park. The coveted beaver however were scarce
there, for other trappers had preceded them; and, to employ trapping
phrase, "had caught all the fur in those streams that could be taken
that season." This was an unpleasant condition for their business
prospects; but, as the old adage hath it, "what could not be cured was
quietly endured." Catching beaver is not always a matter of choice.
The beaver themselves have considerable to say on the subject.




CHAPTER IV.

    Kit Carson and two Companions plan a Hunt for themselves--The
    Great Success met with--Return to Taos--Sale of the Beaver
    Fur--Kit Carson joins Captain Lee and goes on a Trading
    Expedition--Winter Quarters--Kit Carson is sent in Pursuit
    of a Thief--Overtakes and is obliged to shoot the
    Runaway--Property recovered--The Return to Camp--The Sale
    of Goods--Kit Carson joins Fitzpatrick and Party--Kit Carson
    organizes a Hunting Party--His Encounter with two Grizzly
    Bears--The Summer Rendezvous--Kit Carson joins fifty Trappers
    and goes to the Country of the Blackfeet Indians--Annoyances
    received from these Indians--Winter Quarters in 1832--Horses
    Stolen--Kit Carson and eleven Men in Pursuit--A Parley--A
    Fight--Kit Carson severely wounded--His great Sufferings
    and Fortitude--His Convalescence--The Retreat--A New
    Expedition--Braggadocio--Kit Carson Fights a Duel and Wounds
    his man--Duels in the Rocky Mountains in Olden Times.


The fortunes of Gaunt's party in not finding game continued to grow
darker and darker as they traveled from stream to stream. The men
began to grow disheartened at this succession of failures. Kit Carson,
finally, became so tired of going empty handed, that he resolved to
try a hunt upon his own account. On stating his intentions to the
party, two of his old companions offered to join him. These were
gladly accepted by Kit; and, had they not been deterred by the
consideration that their dangers would be greatly augmented if they
worked with so small a party, others would most willingly have joined
his company. With the good wishes, therefore, of Gaunt and his entire
band, Kit and his two brave comrades boldly and confidently commenced
their march.

The plan Kit adopted was to confine his operations exclusively to the
mountain streams and not to venture out upon the Prairie. By taking
this course he hoped to avoid much of the danger to be apprehended
from Indians.[5]

[Footnote 5: The mountain Indians, during the Summer season generally
come down from their secure retreats and are engaged either in hunting
buffalo, or marching on the war-path. When they are at peace with the
Indians of the Plains, which is rarely the case, they join them, and,
together, with their united strength and skill, they make piratical
excursions into the Settlements of the Mexicans. While out on this
business, they leave their families in some secluded spot for abundant
caution, placing them under the guardianship of the old men, assisted
by some of the younger members of the tribe.]

For several months they followed the business of trapping without
being in any way annoyed by the Indians. Their success was abundant.
At the end of the season they had gathered together a splendid stock
of beaver fur and began to think of a homeward trip. Having made
everything ready, they finally started for Taos. True, their party
was small and the risks they ran of attacks from hostile and covetous
Indians were imminent; but, fortune, or Providence favored them and
there was finally a satisfactory end to their anxieties; for, after a
quick march over the plains, they arrived safely at Taos. Beaver fur
was, at the time of their arrival, in great demand and prices ruled
correspondingly high. Kit and his comrades obtained the benefit of
this state of the market and disposed of their fine stock to great
advantage.

The money realized, so far as Kit's two comrades were concerned, was
soon expended in fleeting pleasures and a new outfit for the next
trapping expedition which might offer. Kit's former experience had
been sufficient on this score, and he had become impressed with the
highly important fact that there existed a much wiser course to be
pursued. With his characteristic consistency, Kit acted upon this
conviction and wisely saved his hard earnings.

While remaining at Taos, Kit Carson met with Captain Lee, formerly of
the United States Army; but, at this time, a partner of Bent and
St. Vrain, two names as familiarly known to the mountaineers as the
household words of their boyhood days.

Captain Lee was purchasing goods for the purpose of trading with
and supplying the trappers. He desired Kit Carson to join in his
enterprise and made him an offer which was accepted.

In the latter part of October 1832, with their goods well packed
and properly fitted for the rough transportation which they must
necessarily be subjected to, they set out to find the trappers. They
traveled for some distance on a route well known as the "Old Spanish
Trail." This is nothing more than a mule path which leads from New
Mexico to California.

Having arrived safely at White River, they continued their march down
stream, following the windings of the river until they came to Green
River. Green River, they forded and then struck across the country for
the Winty River which is a branch of the Green River.

Here they found Mr. Robidoux who had a party of twenty men in his
employ and who was engaged both in trapping and trading according as
opportunity presented itself. Soon after these parties met, snow
began to fall, indicating the approach of the cold season. A mutual
understanding having been arrived at, the two parties joined together
and began to establish Winter Quarters suitable for the whole.

They selected a site for their permanent camp on the Winty River, at
its mouth, where the men made themselves as comfortable as possible
under such circumstances. They were provided with skin lodges, so
common among the Indians of America, and which according to Kit's
mountaineer experience are very comfortable substitutes for houses.

During the winter Mr. Robidoux lost six of his most valuable and
high-priced horses, in the following manner. Attached to the camp
there was a California Indian who was employed by Mr. Robidoux, a keen
and shrewd savage: and one, whose acquaintance with the trappers had
enabled him to gain the confidence of Mr. Robidoux. He was also an
expert with the rifle and possessed undoubted courage with great
bodily strength and activity. These qualifications made him a
troublesome customer in a skirmish.

This Indian's education on the score of property rights had not been
as well attended to as the methods of attack and defence in the chase
and on the war path. By some, not strange, personal argument, he
concluded to appropriate the six valuable horses above mentioned, in
the law wordy vocabulary of civilization, "to his own, use, benefit
and behoof, without asking the consent, good-will, approbation,
permission and personal, directions of the said owner, to wit Mr.
Robidoux."

As these horses were worth, even at that remote spot on the great
American Continent, the just and full sum of two hundred dollars each,
making a round sum total of twelve hundred dollars, Mr. Robidoux was
not content to pocket the loss; or, much less, to allow the rascal to
enjoy ill-gotten wealth on the principle that "stolen fruit is sweet."
He determined, if possible to show him that some stolen fruit is
bitter.

Knowing Kit Carson's reputation for skill and his fearless
disposition, as soon as he had discovered his loss, he came and
requested him to pursue the Indian. Kit Carson is a man who never
works without orders except when he is leader. He therefore informed
Captain Lee of Mr. Robidoux's request and asked permission to serve
his friend. This, as a matter of course, was readily granted by
Captain Lee; when, Kit instantly made his preparations for the
adventure. He was very soon on horseback, well armed and well prepared
for hard and close work.

There chanced, near by to the camp, to be an Indian village belonging
to the Utah Tribe. The whites were on friendly terms with the
inhabitants of this village, which determined Carson to seek out, from
among their warriors, one active and intelligent brave, and get him to
join in the chase. This was the more easily accomplished as Carson's
reputation for skill, courage and experience was already well known in
this tribe. He, himself, had made a large circle of acquaintance among
the braves, and many of them had become strongly attached to him. Some
of these attachments have existed for years and are still maintained;
for, a fact well known, the American Indian warrior, as a general
rule, is true and unchangeable in his friendships. With this object
in view, Carson, putting his horse to his speed, started for the Utah
village. On making his errand known to such of the braves as enjoyed
his confidence, he found no difficulty in engaging a well-known
warrior, and one on whom he knew he could rely, to accompany him. The
wily savage was soon ready for the march, when Kit gave the word to
start. Both men were splendidly mounted. Their pace was that of no
sluggard. The high-conditioned animals which they rode seemed to
catch the eager spirit of their masters, and entering into it, bent
themselves to their work with determination accordingly. To discover
the trail of the deserter and to study its various characteristics,
a science of no mean or useless order in the matter of a woodman's
education, required the two men to slacken their pace for a short
time. The tracks made by the stolen animals, however, were well
marked; and, to such practised eyes, afforded a certain indication
as to their route. Again putting their horses to their speed, with
compressed lips and eyes directed to the trail before them, Carson and
the Indian warrior dashed on, feeling confident, that, if the rascal
escaped with his ill-gotten booty, the sin would not be laid upon
their shoulders. The trail led down the Green River. This fact made
Carson conclude that California was the destination aimed at in the
deserter's calculations. Kit and his Indian brave had accomplished
about one hundred miles, having, not once, lost sight of the trail,
when, most unfortunately for Kit, the horse of the Indian was suddenly
taken sick and his strength gave out completely. The Indian could go
no further except on foot, and this mode of travel he was unwilling to
adopt, refusing absolutely Carson's request made to him to do so. This
was an unpleasant predicament, especially as the rascal, who formed
the chase, was a dangerous antagonist even to an experienced fighter
and in an honest cause. Goaded on by the fear of punishment for theft,
Carson well knew that he would require all of his own address to
purchase success; for, the rascal would not fail to make a most
desperate resistance. But Kit Carson's courage arose, as the
difficulties of the adventure seemed to multiply. With a farewell word
to his Indian companion, he put spurs to his horse and entered boldly
upon the trail alone, being determined to run every hazard, which the
unhappy accident to the Indian's horse seemed to require at his hands.
The spectacle here presented to the reader, is one which exhibits Kit
Carson in his true character both as a faithful and earnest friend,
and a determined and dangerous adversary. Such is his character. A
life of most singular events has never yet found him false to his
friend or his manhood. While he is not rash in judgment, he is
consummately skillful, quick and brave. Onward he dashed, never for an
instant taking his eagle eye from the tracks which formed his compass.
Think not that such tracks are easily traced. None but a practised and
ready eye can follow them to any advantageous end. To trace them even
at a snail's pace, for an unpractised eye, is like the child putting
pen and ink to paper through his first copy-book of penmanship. Many
and many an awful blot and horribly crooked line will doubtless carry
the simile fully and strikingly to the mind. But the result which
crowned Kit's effort showed conclusively that, notwithstanding he had
followed the trail for over one hundred and thirty miles, he had made
no blots or crooked lines. At the distance of thirty miles from the
place where he parted with his Indian companion, Kit discovered the
chase. His pace now became tremendous. The wily savage had descried
him almost at the same instant that he was discovered by Kit, and
instantly prepared for a desperate encounter. With this object in
view, the savage turned to seek a cover from whence he could fire upon
his adversary and reload long before he should himself become exposed
to a shot. The rascal's plan was good enough, but he was too slow in
its execution to overcome Kit's activity. Kit had unslung his rifle as
soon as he saw his enemy. Anticipating the object of the savage, he,
instantly, covered him with his rifle. His horse was now at full speed
and he was rapidly nearing the Indian. At the moment he discovered
that the Indian had reached his cover and before he could take
advantage of it, without relaxing his horse's speed, he fired. The
ball from Carson's rifle was so well directed that the Indian, as it
struck him, gave one bound and then fell dead in his tracks. At the
same instant the rascal's rifle went off with a sharp report, sending
a bullet whizzing at some distance from the line of Carson's approach.
The fact of the Indian's rifle being fired at all is a sufficient
explanation of what was his intent, had his career not been so
suddenly cut short, thereby preventing its fulfillment.

The words of an old trapper are here very much to the point. The
author was, on a fitting occasion, questioning him in regard to Kit
Carson's capabilities with the rifle. Said he: "If a man has a serious
quarrel with Kit Carson, he had better not let him get the _first
sight over his rifle_; for, if he succeeds in this, his adversary is
as good as dead."

An intimate acquaintance and tried friendship with Kit Carson has,
since then, repeatedly furnished occasions which have confirmed this
trapper's statement; although, in the first instance, a person will
find it no easy task to render an altercation necessary, for Kit
Carson holds his passions fully under control; and, besides, they are
of a very conciliatory type. No man will sooner shun a difficulty when
justice, honor and necessity do not warrant strife.

The work of collecting the horses was soon accomplished, when Carson
immediately commenced his journey back to the camp. This he reached
in safety, after overcoming a few minor difficulties caused by his
charge; and, had the satisfaction of returning the six horses to Mr.
Robidoux in as good condition as they were the night on which they
were stolen; and, also, of informing him that there was one rascal
less in the world to prey upon honest people.

This event served to interrupt the monotony and routine of winter camp
duty, affording a basis for many a long yarn during the evening
hours around the camp fires. These trappers, especially whenever a
green-eyed bundle of curiosity chances to seek their company, can spin
yarns most wondrous. The habits of the beaver and their remarkable
instinct, form a fit subject for their active imagination. It would
doubtless add very much to the interest of these pages if we could set
down a few of these anecdotes and tales for the general reader; but,
the task would be hopeless as to its accomplishment. To give them
life and reality, they require all the surroundings of time, place and
occasion; there should be the dark night; the wild whistling wind; the
shaking tent with its covering of skins; the roasted venison, bear's
meat, or horse flesh; the rifles standing in the corners; the lamp of
bear's grease; in fine, all the similitude of camp life. Then the wild
stories of bear fightings, beaver intelligence, Indian deviltry, and
hairbreadth escapes, become intensely real. The auditor hangs upon
each word which falls from the lips of the supposed sage orator with
eager earnestness, while curiosity never becomes satisfied.

"Ah! Jones, that is a whopper."

"Sure as I live, but the beaver slept every night with the trapper,
and in the day time, if he left the tent, the beaver would fall to
work and make a dam across the floor of the tent, using the chist,
skins, arms and everything."

"Oh! Jones!"

"But, I tell you it is true. Tame a beaver once, and you'll find I'se
tellin' a plain statement as true as ever a Padre made."

"Padre! who'd believe a Mexican priest? Mr. Jones, that tame beaver
of your'n must have been born in the States, where he hadn't trees and
mud to build dams with, and had to resort to furnitur."

"That beaver," responded Jones, "was as near like a human bein' as any
man present."

"How do you make that out, Mr. Jones?"

"Why, one day his master died. Well, they tried all they could to
console the beaver, but it 'twant no use. He wouldn't be consoled.
All he did was to git an ole shoe belonging to his master, an' if he
didn't haul that ere shoe around day after day wherever he went. Well,
the beaver 'gan to grow thin, and one night they found he was a dyin',
jest from starvin' himself to death and a huggin' the ole shoe."

"Oh! Jones," said the greenhorn, "you don't expect I'll swallow all
that yarn?"

But Mr. Jones and all of the other trappers present preserved an
imperturbable dignity of mien, as if the very reference to the animal
mentioned demanded from them all due reverence.

"Well, but that was not doing as a human being would do. I never seen
a man carry an old shoe around till he died from starvin'."

"That is neither here nor there," continued Mr. Jones. "It was when
the trapper first made the beaver's acquaintance that he showed he
knew as much as a human critter. At that time he had one wife and
lived with her all alone in a hole, side o' the dam. They had two sons
and a darter. The darter the old beaver had married to a fine lookin'
young beaver who lived t'other side the dam."

The whistle which the neophyte here gave seemed to give great
dissatisfaction to all of the trappers present. One of them quietly
asked him--

"Is that the way, youngster, you'se bin eddicated in perliteniss of
manners? If it is, I know a beaver who kin larn you sumthin'. In the
fust place, if a young beaver ever kums inter the presence of the ole
uns, especially if she's, that is the ole uns, a female beaver, the
young un 'mediately fetches his right fore paw up to his forehead,
jest 'hind the right eyebrow, an' makes a reverintial bow of cerimony
in salute. I'se seen that ar' oftener than you've put one leg ahead of
t'other yit, young un."

The trappers present all confirmed the truth of this statement by
a solemn nod of assent to the query, "Ain't that true, gentlemen?"
which, at least, served to prevent unceremonious whistling.

It is thus that we might go on and fill page after page with this
picture-talk of the trappers. Some of their yarns are pretty tightly
strained, but most of them contain a capital hit and are usually
founded on the facts. It is a well authenticated fact that the beaver
has but one mate; and, that they live together a loving couple, as if
husband and wife. As to their _liaisons_, coquetry, flirting and so
forth, doubtless the society in some parts of the human family will
bear a faithful resemblance in these respects also. As an example of
industry the world will look in vain for a better one than is afforded
by the little beaver of the Western Rivers. Look at them patiently
felling the tallest trees; and, so nicely adjusting their fall and
calculating their height, that they strike the opposite bank of their
stream gaining a fixed and permanent lodgment. It is thus that these
wonderful little creatures will often erect dams across wide rivers
and effectually stop the rushing torrents.

As has appeared, after collecting the six horses, Kit Carson returned
with them safely into camp. A few days subsequent to this occurrence,
a band of trappers belonging to another party _en route_, entered the
camp. These men reported that Fitzpatrick and Bridger were encamped
on Snake River distant about fifteen days' journey. This was too good
news for Captain Lee and Kit to warrant their remaining any longer
idle. They doubted not but that they should be able to dispose of
their goods to these parties. With this object in view, they prepared
for the march and started. Their journey, although perilous and
laborious, was successfully accomplished. Messrs. Fitzpatrick and
Bridger received and entertained them very hospitably, and purchased
their entire stock, paying therefor in beaver fur. Kit Carson then
joined Fitzpatrick's band, but remained with it only one month.
His reason for separating from it was, that there were too many men
congregated together either to accomplish much, or to make the general
result profitable in the distribution. He, accordingly, arranged
an enterprise upon his own account; and, from his well-established
reputation, found more men than he wanted ready to join him. From
those who applied, he selected but three. These were men of the best
material; and, no man could judge a trapper's qualifications better
than Kit Carson.

With his three men he immediately set out for the Laramie River. On
this stream and its tributaries, he spent the summer. Perhaps our
readers will look for a full description of the course which the
American trapper pursues in order to catch beaver. It is very simple
in its detail but difficult and tedious in its application. The trap
is the common steel trap made in the usual form; if there is any
difference, it is larger and more powerful. It is set in the haunts
of the beaver with a particular kind of bait[6] known chiefly among
trappers. It is a singular fact that, frequently, old beavers will be
discovered springing the traps, by the aid of a stick. If discovered
at his work, he seems to enjoy hugely the vexation of the trappers
which they sometimes exhibit. An old trapper, however, especially if
he be a Frenchman or Mexican, feels so much pride in the matter, that
he will cover up his vexation under assumed politeness, as if the
beaver could understand and appreciate his language.

[Footnote 6: Animalium patris testiculum.]

But to escape from these pleasing digressions, Kit Carson and his men
concluded their summer's work with unusual success. Their exertions
had been crowned with rewards which surpassed their fondest
anticipations. As the wintry months were again fast coming on, Kit and
his men determined to rejoin Bridger's' command. The return trip,
was therefore commenced and duly prosecuted. Late one afternoon,
just after the little party had gone into camp, Kit, having lingered
somewhat behind, suddenly rode into the camp ground and leaped from
his horse, giving it in care of one of the men. With his rifle, he
then started in pursuit of game for supper. He walked on about one
mile from the camp and there came upon the fresh tracks of some elk.
Following up the trail he discovered the game grazing on the side of
a hill. In the neighborhood of the animals there were some low and
craggy pine trees. Moving along with great care, he finally gained the
cover of the trees, which brought him in close proximity to the
elk, and within certain range of his rifle. This care was the more
necessary as his party had been without meat diet for some time and
began to be greatly in need thereof. These ever wary animals saw, or
scented him; or, at any rate, became conscious of approaching danger
from some cause, before he could reach the spot from which he desired
to take his aim. They had commenced moving; and, in another instant,
would have bounded away, out of all reach of his rifle. His eye and
piece, however, were too quick for them; for, bringing his piece into
position and without dwelling upon his aim, he sped a bullet after the
largest and the fattest of the noble game before him. He had wisely
allowed for the first leap, for his shot caught the nimble animal in
mid air and brought him to the earth, writhing in his death agony with
a fearful wound through the heart and lungs, from which there was
no escape. One quiver ran through the frame of the beautiful animal,
when, he breathed his last. The echoing sound of the rifle shot had
hardly died away, to which the true hunter ever listens with unfeigned
pleasure as the sweetest of music on his ear, whenever he has seen
that his game is surely within his grasp, the last faint melody was
broken in upon and completely lost in a terrific roar from the woods
directly behind him. Instantly turning his head to note the source
of this sound, the meaning and cause of which he well knew by his
experienced woodman's ear, educated until its nicety was truly
wonderful, he saw two huge and terribly angry grizzly bears. As his
eye first rested upon these unwelcome guests, they were bounding
towards him, their eyes flashing fiery passion, their pearly teeth
glittering with eagerness to mangle his flesh, and their monstrous
fore-arms, hung with sharp, bony claws, ready and anxious to hug his
body in a close and most loving embrace. There was not much time for
Kit to scratch his head and cogitate. In fact, one instant spent in
thought then would have proved his death warrant without hope of
a reprieve. Messrs. Bruin evidently considered their domain most
unjustly intruded upon. The gentle elk and deer mayhap were their
dancing boys and girls; and, like many a petty king in savage land,
they may have dined late and were now enjoying a scenic treat of
their ballet troupe. At all events Kit required no second thought to
perceive that the monarchs of the American forest were unappeasably
angry and were fast nearing him with mighty stride. Dropping his
rifle, the little leaden bullet of which would now have been worth
to him its weight in gold if it could by some magic wand have been
transferred from the heart of the elk back into its breech, he bounded
from his position in close imitation of the elk, but with better
success. The trees! he hoped and prayed, as he fairly flew over the
ground with the bears hot in chase, for one quick grasp at a sturdy
sapling. By good fortune, or special Providence, his hope, or prayer,
was answered. Grasping a lower limb he swung his body up into the
first tier of branches just as passing Bruin brushed against one of
his legs. Bears climb trees and Kit Carson was not ignorant of the
fact. Instantly drawing his keen-edged hunting knife, he cut away for
dear life at a thick short branch. The knife and his energy conquered
the cutting just as Messrs. Bruin had gathered themselves up for an
ascent, a proceeding on their part to which Mr. Carson would not give
assent. Mr. Carson was well acquainted with the Messrs. Bruin's pride
in, and extreme consideration for, their noses. A few sharp raps made
with the severed branch upon the noses of the ascending bears, while
they fairly made them to howl with pain and rage, caused them hastily
to beat a retreat. This scene of ascending, getting their noses
tickled and again descending howling with pain and rage now kept
Mr. Carson and Messrs. Bruin actively busy for some time. The huge
monsters and monarchs of the mountains were determined not to give it
up so. Such a full and fair chase and to be beaten by a simple
white man on their own domain! This evidently galled their sensitive
natures. It is true the roaring of the bears in his rear had
stimulated Mr. Carson in the race, so much so, that he undoubtedly
ran at the top of his speed; and, being naturally, as well as by long
practice, very fleet of foot, he had managed to outstrip his pursuers
in the race. It is true he had made short work of climbing the tree
and here again had very innocently beaten the bears at their own game
and one in which they took great pride. It is more than probable that
the bears were in too good condition to run well. Had it been early
spring time they would doubtless have been much lower in flesh. That
was their own fault too; they should have known that racing time
cannot be made on high condition. After leaving their hibernating
quarters they should have been less given to a sumptuous habit at the
table.

[Illustration: Two huge and terribly angry grizzly bears were bounding
towards him, their eyes flashing fiery passion, their pearly teeth
glittering with eagerness to mangle his flesh, and their monstrous
forearms, hung with sharp, bony claws, ready and anxious to hug his
body in a close and most loving embrace.--PAGE 83.]

Affairs were, however, by no manner of means settled. They had the
daring trespasser on their domain treed, and almost within their
reach; and, indeed, to keep out of the way of their uncomely claws,
Kit was obliged to gather himself up in the smallest possible space
and cling to the topmost boughs. The bears now allowed themselves
a short respite for breathing, during which they gave vent to their
wrath by many shrill screeches. Then they renewed their endeavors to
force the hunter from his resting place. Mounted on their hind paws
they would reach for him; but, the blows with the stick, applied
freely to their noses, would make them desist. In vain did they
exhaust every means to force the man to descend; he was not to be
driven or coaxed. The hard knocks they had sustained upon their
noses had now aroused them almost to madness. Together they made one
desperate effort to tear Kit from the tree. As in all their previous
attempts, they were foiled, and their ardor dampened and cooled by the
drumming operations upon their noses, which this time was so freely
and strongly applied upon one of them as to make him lachrymate and
cry out with pain. One at a time they departed; but, it was not
until they had been out of sight and hearing for some time that Kit
considered it safe to venture down from the tree; when, he hastened to
regain and immediately to reload his rifle.

Thus ended an adventure in which Kit Carson considers that he failed
to lose life and limb by the narrowest miss that ever occurred to him.
Although he has killed much more than his _quantum_ of this kind of
game, and has gained what is a practical advantage to every western
hunter, to wit: a knowledge of all their abilities with which they
enforce sway, Kit Carson regards this adventure in the light of a
warning. It is a warning too which he never allows himself to forget;
consequently, whenever he has hunted since, he watches as closely
for signs of Mr. Bruin as he does for the game he seeks; it would,
therefore, be a difficult matter for the bears again to surprise him.
Some of the most desperate battles on record between hunters and wild
animals are narrated of encounters with the bear tribe.

Several years ago, a Mexican by the name of Armador Sanchez, still
well known in the Rocky Mountains as a brave and skillful hunter, had
a fight with a bear which lasted several hours. This terrible battle
ended by both the combatants being laid prostrate upon the ground, so
completely exhausted as to be utterly unable to reach each other from
the want of physical strength. In this condition they spent one night;
and, on the following morning, when the brave Mexican hunter had
recovered sufficiently to be able to creep to his antagonist, he found
him dead. This close conflict grew out of the hunter's noble daring
in endeavoring to save the life of a Mexican boy, whom, at the instant
the hunter attacked the beast, the bear was about to tear into pieces.
At one time the bear had the youth in his terrible clutches in such
a manner that it was impossible for him to plant a shot in any vital
organ. But nothing daunted, with his rifle and revolver, he lodged
several bullets in other parts of the fierce monster. Still the
savage animal clung to the unfortunate boy, endeavoring to tear him to
pieces, and horribly mangling him in every part of his body. The noble
hunter could resist no longer, and dropping his pistols and rifle, he
drew his sheath-knife and slung shot, and, after winding his blanket
around his left arm to protects it, rushed in and compelled the animal
to turn upon him. Wounds were freely given and returned; but, the wary
Mexican fought with such dexterity and determination, that the bear
finally became so mad with pain and rage that by a tremendous effort,
with one blow of his powerful paw, he knocked the brave hunter
headlong upon the ground, where he lay some time before recovering his
breath. Instead of following up this advantage, the brute, doubtless
being deceived because the man did not move, commenced examining and
licking his own bleeding wounds. But the brave hunter had now got his
spirit so completely up, that he determined to conquer his antagonist
or die. Early in the fight, by a blow from his slung-shot, he had
succeeded in breaking the bear's lower jaw. This had greatly disabled
the animal and undoubtedly was the successful wound which eventually
gave Sanchez the victory. When he felt himself sufficiently rested,
he renewed the fight; and, by adopting various manoeuvres, in which he
was greatly assisted by some adjacent trees, succeeded in putting in
several telling blows with his knife. Again the animal became aroused
to madness unendurable, and, gathering himself up for a final effort,
succeeded in planting a terrible blow on the hunter's head, which once
more brought him to the ground. From this blow and the previous loss
of blood, the brave man fainted entirely away. How long he remained
in this state he could not tell; but, on becoming again conscious,
he found that the victory was on his side, for the bear had already
breathed his last. The poor boy, notwithstanding his wounds, as soon
as the battle was decided; and, as he supposed, at the cost of his
friend's life, started for a neighboring fort, and, reaching it the
following morning, reported the affair. A party of men well armed
immediately marched to the rescue. They found the brave hunter in a
most pitiful condition, with his flesh terribly mangled, his clothes
torn into ribbons, and his back and shoulders one mass of lacerated
wounds. His reason had already become unseated. In his native language
he would call out to his now visionary foe, "If you are a brave man,
come on." Although the most delicate care and assistance was rendered
to Sanchez, it was many weeks before he was able to resume his
occupation; and, even then, he owed his life to the wonderful
recuperative powers of his healthy and iron constitution. Had the
fact been otherwise, he could not have survived his injuries. One more
brave heart must have yielded its last drop of heroic blood in defence
of youthful weakness. This picture, because it does not exaggerate the
facts, we leave with regret; for, it is a pleasure to contemplate
such nobility of character, whatever be the name which declares the
governmental allegiance of the hero.

It is not going beyond the bounds of truth to assert that the grizzly
bear of the Rocky Mountains is as formidable an enemy as the hunter
is called upon to meet, wherever the hunting-ground and whatever the
animal which opponents to our assertion may set up. When caught out on
the open prairie, where he can be attacked on horseback and lassoed,
the chances are against the bear; but, in a broken country, woe to his
assailants, unless life is saved by some trick; or, happy fortune; a
lucky shot; a telling blow, like Sanchez's with his slung-shot;
or, the fanciful drumming, such as was Kit's, on the noses of
his antagonists; or, some other equally singular and unlooked-for
expedient. The weight of one of these monsters often runs as high as
fifteen hundred pounds; and, their fore paws, which they can manage
with the greatest dexterity, frequently measure fourteen inches. The
courage, sagacity and skill invariably evinced by this species of
bear, when engaged in a fight, is not equaled by any other wild animal
on the face of the globe, not excepting the lion.

We take pleasure in here giving further publicity to the careful
research and plain truths which have emanated from the pen of that
distinguished and successful traveler Dr. Livingston. The new ideas
which appear in his pages in regard to the courage of the "King of
Beasts," have served, in a measure, to correct the general impression,
and to bring down from its high-stilted hyperbole the courage,
sagacity and terrible power of the lion, which, he states, are
overrated. We do not desire to contradict published statements any
farther than our own personal knowledge extends; hence, we give
our authority for our statements in regard to the lion, very well
satisfied ourself with Dr. Livingstone's love of truth and earnest
candor. So much for the lion. Our statements in regard to the Rocky
Mountain grizzly bear rest upon our own knowledge and investigation,
gathered in his own haunts and on his own wild domain; and, as such,
are given upon our own responsibility. Because brave American woodsmen
can readily conquer the monarch of the American forest; and because
the chicken-hearted Afric son, or dweller, trembles before the steady
glare of the Afric King of Beasts, _ergo_ his bearship must in popular
opinion, play subordinate to his lionship. For the sake of truth,
we should like to see the Spanish arena once open for a fighting
encounter between a Rocky Mountain bear and an African lion, full and
native grown specimens of each. The bull-fights all good men abhor;
but, such a battle would serve to set at rest a fast-growing doubt
among naturalists; and, so far, would prove available to science and
the cause of truth. We would readily stake a purse on the bear.

With the Indians of the West, who live mostly by hunting, among whom,
nine out of ten would, single handed, readily face a score of native
lion spearsmen and, we verily believe, put them to flight; a man is
considered a great brave who, alone, will undertake to kill a grizzly
bear. If he succeeds, which is very rarely the case, his fortune in
his tribe is made, once and for all. The reputation he gains will
cling to and follow him into his grave and form one of the chief
burdens of the tradition which bears his name to posterity. The
Indians usually hunt and attack him in large parties; and, when the
contest becomes really earnest, it requires a most immoderate amount
of yelling, and fierce cry for the onset, to keep their bravery up in
fighting trim. The victory is seldom gained without the sacrifice
of several lives. The mounted hunter almost invariably finds it a
difficult task to bring his charger even within shooting range of this
kind of game. On an untrained or young horse the accomplishment of
this feat is next to an impossibility; for, instinct seems to teach
them the true character of the game even though they approach it for
the first time.[7]

[Footnote 7: The author once saw thirty brave and determined men in
pursuit of an old grizzly bear and her two cubs near the head waters
of the Arkansas River. In vain they urged their horses to the chase.
Not a single steed in the entire band could be induced to run for the
game. The old bear was quite thin and her young nearly half grown and
were very fleet of foot. The chase lasted for about three miles, but
not a man present was able to obtain a shot, because their riding
animals were so completely frightened as to be almost unmanageable;
consequently, the bears made good their escape. The last that was seen
of them was their dim outlines as they traveled leisurely up a deep
ravine.]

Darkness closed in about Kit Carson before he could reach his camp;
and, indeed, the sky was so cloudy that it was with great difficulty
he found his way to it. The idea of sending out a pack animal for
the elk was out of the question; therefore, the whole party went,
supperless, to bed. In the morning they breakfasted upon a beaver
found in one of their traps; for, they well knew that, long before
daylight, the prowling wolves had feasted upon the elk; hence, they
resigned it without a visit. The flavor of the meat of the beaver is
not very palatable and the trappers rarely use it; never when they can
do better. Not so with its tail. To this they are very partial; and,
when properly boiled, it is, indeed, a great delicacy.

Believing that Bridger would visit this place, Kit ordered his men
to make a permanent camp. Kit's sagacity was not at fault in this
hypothesis; for, in fifteen days, this famous old mountaineer made his
appearance accompanied by his whole band. The two parties once
more consolidated and started for the summer rendezvous, which was
appointed to be held on the Green River.

Upon their arrival at this place, they found congregated, all the
principal trappers of the Rocky Mountains. They were divided into two
camps, and numbered about two hundred men. The objects which brought
them thus together were, the disposal of their fur and the purchase of
supplies.

When all the parties had reported their arrival, the trading commenced
and was conducted upon a basis which gave general satisfaction. The
most exorbitant and fabulous prices ruled for such articles as the
mountaineers required. Sugar and coffee brought two dollars the pint;
powder, the same; and ordinary blankets were sold at fifteen and
twenty-five dollars each.

Coffee, sugar, and even flour, were luxuries not every day indulged in
by the hardy mountaineers. They seldom partook of such dainties; not
more frequently than two or three times in the year, and then, merely
as rare treats. Their standard food was game and wild vegetables when
in their season.

This meeting of the trappers continued in progress during two months.
It was then dissolved; and, once more the bold mountaineers formed
into bands of a size convenient for trapping, and started out to
engage in the fall hunt. Kit Carson joined a party of fifty men which
was bound for the country occupied by the Blackfeet Indians, and which
lies on and adjacent to the head waters of the Missouri River. The
party met with very poor success in catching beaver, but had their
fill of annoyances from the tribe of savages already referred to.
Finally the state of affairs between the trappers and the Indians
became so desperate, that a white man could not leave his camp and
go a distance of a single mile alone without being fired upon, so
completely and untiringly was their camp surrounded and watched by
this wily and dangerous tribe of Indians.

This state of affairs led them to the determination to quit the
country, as the trapping season was far advanced. With this line of
policy they began the march; and, in the month of November, 1832,
arrived on the banks of the Big Snake River where they established
winter quarters and remained until the subsequent February.

During these winter months, the quiet monotony of their life was
unexpectedly broken in upon by a band of their old enemies, the
Blackfeet Indians. Taking advantage of an unusually dark night they
entered the camp and succeeded in running off eighteen of their
horses. In consideration of their leniency displayed towards them when
they were engaged trapping in their own country, then merely acting
on the defensive, this act on the part of the savages appeared to the
trappers to be more than they ought peaceably to bear. Such appeared
to be the general opinion, and it was determined that a party should
be sent out to recover the property and inflict a chastisement upon
the hostile savages which they would not soon forget. Kit Carson with
eleven men to accompany him was selected for this delicate but highly
important service. Having prepared everything for the route, the party
started and after fifty miles of sharp riding through the snow,
came up with the savages. The progress of the Indians had been,
fortunately, considerably retarded by the necessity of breaking a
path through the deep snow, which had but very recently fallen. The
trappers instantly made an attempt to recover their animals which were
found grazing on the side of a hill, the Indians having previously
come to a halt. In doing this, shots were exchanged by both parties
without effect. The savages had on snow shoes which gave them
considerable advantage over the trappers. After some manoeuvering, the
Indians asked for a parley which was granted. On these occasions, it
is customary for one man from each party to advance to a spot about
halfway between the contending parties and there have a talk. The
rascals, through their representative, informed the trappers through
their representative, that they had supposed that they had been
committing a robbery upon the Snake Indians; and, that they did not
desire to steal from the white men.

The trappers, believing these tales to be false, considered this a
mere ruse on the part of the Indians to make them unwary of passing
events. However, they put the very natural query to them, why, if they
were so friendly disposed, they did not follow out their usual custom;
and, on seeing them approach, lay down their arms and advance to meet
their white brothers, so that they might have a smoke together and
talk over their difficulties and thus amicably settle matters.

Their replies to this query contained nothing but evasions. Finally,
however, it having been mutually agreed upon, both parties disarmed
and marched to the place where their representatives were talking. The
Calumet was then prepared, lighted and handed around to each person
present, it being puffed once or twice by every one of the savages
and every one of the whites. The council then commenced. The head
men among the savages led off by making several lengthy and unmeaning
speeches. In their replies, the trappers came directly to the point,
and said they could hear no overtures for peace, until their property
was restored to them. The Indians, upon hearing this demand several
times repeated, began to presume upon their strength, assuming an
overbearing demeanor. After considerable talk among themselves, they
sent out and brought in five of the poorest horses, declaring that
it was the only number they could return. The trappers, upon hearing
this, ran for their arms; when, the Indians instantly started for
theirs. The fight was now renewed by both parties. Kit Carson, in the
rush made for the rifles, and one of his companions named Markhead,
succeeded in getting hold of their weapons first; and consequently,
they formed the advance in the return to the contest. They selected
for their antagonists, two Indians who were close together; but, who
were partially concealed behind separate trees. As Kit was on the
point of raising his rifle to fire he saw by a quick side glance at
Markhead, that he was working at the lock of his gun without paying
attention to his adversary who was aiming at him with, almost, a
certainty of killing him. Kit instantly changed the direction of his
rifle and fired, sending a bullet through the heart of Markhead's
adversary; but, in thus saving the life of his friend, he was obliged,
for the instant, to neglect his own adversary. A quick glance showed
him the fellow sighting over his rifle and that the mouth of the
Indian's gun covered his breast. Upon the instant he endeavored to
dodge the bullet, but he was unsuccessful in doing so completely. It
struck him in such a way that, first cutting the skin of his neck and
glancing, it passed through his left shoulder. The head of the bone,
of the arm in the shoulder was shattered; but, fortunately, the
main artery of the arm escaped injury. Notwithstanding his wound Kit
immediately endeavored to reload his rifle. In this effort he was
unsuccessful, for his left arm hung powerless by his side. He was
obliged, therefore, to remain a mere spectator during the remainder
of the fight; when, being overcome by the loss of blood and the
consequent fast increasing weakness, he threw himself upon the ground.
The fight continued to be hotly contested by both the trappers and
Indians until, gradually, the firing ceased, when the trappers drew
off and went into camp. They did not dare to light any fires, as they
would inevitably bring the Indians upon them. With nothing but their
saddle-blankets to protect them from the bitter cold, even the safe
and sound members of the party suffered severely. Kit's condition
failed not to arouse the heartfelt sympathy of his friends, for there
was not one among them who would not have readily risked life and limb
to save Kit's. But his condition was most critical; at the least, he
was in a most unenviable condition. His wounds bled profusely,
and, the blood, as it oozed out, froze to the rude dressings. This,
undoubtedly, in the final result, was beneficial to him, as the cold
acted as a partial check upon the hemorrhage. It was, however, none
the less painful to endure. He bore his agonizing sufferings without
a single murmur, exhibiting in patient fortitude and resignation the
same brave spirit and dauntless courage which distinguished him in
every action. Not once did a single complaint escape from his lips.
Had he received this wound within the pales of civilization with its
concomitant constitution, he might never have recovered the use of
his arm. In the pure air, and with a constitution in the best possible
trim, after all danger from hemorrhage had passed, his chances to
recover were favorable; and, finally, resulted in giving him once
more, the full use of his arm.

That night the trappers held a council. It was decided, that, although
the result of the fight had been that they had given the Indians a
sound thrashing, there having been several braves killed while they
had suffered only in one wounded, they were, nevertheless, not then
strong enough to pursue the savages farther. They adopted therefore
the policy of returning to the camp and reporting their progress.

On their arrival, a council was immediately called and their
adventures duly rehearsed. The result was that a second party was
immediately organized comprising thirty men. Under the command of
Bridger, this party followed the trail for some days, but returned to
camp without finding the savages. They, after their late engagement,
had made their way as fast as possible into distant parts. A short
time after this, the weather moderated and it was time for the spring
hunt.

This was now commenced and continued quite active for several weeks on
the Green and Snake Rivers. The success of the trappers was far beyond
their most sanguine expectations. Beaver fur seemed absolutely to
rain down upon them. The season having passed, they went into summer
rendezvous on the banks of the Green River. This was brought about
by the arrival of the traders with their supplies. The whole force of
trappers, therefore, again rested until the first week of September;
when, they again broke up their camp for the fall hunt.

Some time previous to this last named event Kit Carson, having
recovered from the effects of his wounds, was very reluctantly drawn
into an "affair of honor." The circumstances of this occurrence we
give in detail for two reasons. It was an event in Carson's life,
and therefore is required at our hands; but, it serves to exhibit the
manner of the duello among these western mountaineers which throws
around the circumstance the importance of an example in their manners
and customs. By itself, so far as Kit Carson was concerned, it was of
very little importance, serving but little, in his opinion, to adorn
the story of his life.

Among the men congregated at the rendezvous, there was a Captain
Shunan, a powerful Frenchman. The Captain was exceedingly overbearing
in his intercourse with all around him. Upon the slightest pretext, he
was sure to endeavor to involve some of the trappers in a quarrel.
The result was that he was heartily despised by all, although, for the
sake of peace, he was allowed to go unmolested. One day his conduct
was particularly offensive to the entire command; for, after having
had two fist fights with a couple of weak and inoffensive men,
he commenced boasting that he could easily flog all the Frenchmen
present; and, as to the Americans, he said that "he could cut a stick
and switch them." Such actions and manners, at last, attracted Kit
Carson's notice and caused him to be greatly annoyed. He thought the
matter over and concluded that if Captain Shunan was allowed to gather
many more such detestable laurels, he would soon become even more bold
and troublesome. As no other member of the company seemed disposed to
put a check upon such unmanly behavior, he quietly determined to make
the affair his own.

An opportunity soon presented itself. A number of the company had
congregated together and were engaged in conversation, when Captain
Shunan began anew his bullying language; this time a little more
boisterous than usual. Kit Carson advancing into the centre of the
company and placing himself in front of the Captain thus addressed
him:

"Shunan, before you stands the humblest specimen of an American in
this band of trappers, among whom, there are, to my certain knowledge,
men who could easily chastise you; but, being peaceably disposed,
they keep aloof from you. At any rate, I assume the responsibility of
ordering you to cease your threats, or I will be under the necessity
of killing you."

To this Captain Shunan did not reply; but, immediately after Kit
Carson had closed his remarks, he turned upon his heel and walked
directly for his lodge.

Kit Carson was too well versed in trapper rules not to read the
meaning of this action. He, therefore, walked off also; but, in
the direction of his own lodge. In a brief space of time, both men
appeared before the camp, each mounted on their respective horses. The
affair had drawn together the whole band, and they were now, quietly,
so many witnesses of the facts here recorded.

Captain Shunan was armed with his rifle. Kit Carson had taken merely
a single-barrel dragoon pistol which happened to be the first weapon
that had fallen in his way, because of his hurry to be on the ground.
The two men now rode rapidly towards one another, until their horses'
heads almost touched, when both horsemen reined up, and Kit Carson
addressed Captain Shunan as follows:

"Am I the person you are looking for?"

Captain Shunan replied, "No!"

It was apparent that this reply of Captain Shunan was a falsehood;
for, while giving it utterance, he raised his rifle in the act of
shooting, bringing it to his shoulder and covering his antagonist.
Before, however, Captain Shunan could discharge his gun, the ball from
Kit Carson's pistol shattered his forearm, causing the rifle to tilt
upwards, which changed the direction of its contents in such a
way that Kit Carson received a wound in his scalp while the powder
severely burnt his face.

[Illustration: Before, however, Captain Shunan could discharge his
gun, the ball from Kit Carson's pistol shattered his forearm.--PAGE
100.]

It was the universal opinion of the spectators of this unhappy scene
that both parties fired nearly at the same instant. The facts of the
case show very plainly, first, that Captain Shunan's intent was to
kill his antagonist. Why did he aim at Kit Carson's breast? Second,
that Kit Carson's shot was delivered perhaps a second or two in
advance of Captain Shunan's; third, that Kit Carson did not desire to
kill his antagonist, but merely to save his own life, by disabling
his adversary. The fact that his shot struck first and hit Captain
Shunan's right arm is sufficient proof of this. When Kit Carson's
well-known and indisputable skill with all kinds of fire-arms is taken
into the account; and that, notwithstanding this skill, he hit his
adversary in one of only two places (his right or left arms) which
would have rendered his aim with the rifle uncertain, the statement
that Kit Carson did not intend to kill his adversary becomes an
incontrovertible fact. Last, had Kit Carson not gained a second in
advance in the firing, he would have lost his own life, inevitably;
and, the emphatic "No!" the lie of his antagonist, would have been
crowned with success. Such plain deception seldom is allowed to
triumph by an all-wise Providence.

In judging Kit Carson in this matter, the reader will commit an
ungenerous error if he fails to allow to be placed, in the balance of
judgment, the stirring deeds and daily hair-breadth risks Kit Carson,
during so many years of his eventful life, was constantly called upon
to take a part in and undergo. We take leave of this unfortunate scene
in his life, feeling confident a just public opinion will see in it no
cause to pluck from the brow of Kit Carson any of the laurels which it
has been called upon to place there. As a man of truth, honor, virtue,
and reverence for the laws of his country, Kit Carson has few equals
and no superior among Americans. It needed not this incident to
establish his courage; that had long been proven to be undoubted. Nor
did the result elate his feelings in the least. He met his companions
without a smile, and invariably expressed his regrets that he felt it
to be his duty, for the good order and peace of the camp, to interfere
in the matter. On the other hand, when he espoused the cause of the
majority in maintaining the right, he was not a man to be easily
thwarted. When the affair was ended, Kit was congratulated and
received the thanks of nearly every individual present; for, each felt
that a load of most vexatious and troublesome responsibility had been
taken from his shoulders. The good fellowship immediately introduced
into the camp was also a circumstance of mark.

The wounded man was carried to his quarters and every attention shown
him in the power of his companions. His punishment had the effect
completely to subdue him.

These duels among the old trappers of the Rocky Mountains were not
very unfrequent occurrences. Men, situated as they were, beyond the
reach of the mighty arm of the law, find it absolutely necessary to
legislate for themselves. It is not within our province to advocate
either the right or wrong of duelling; for, with the best of
reasoning, there will always exist a difference of opinion on the
subject. In the case of these mountaineers, when any serious offence
was given, the man receiving the injury to body or fame held the right
of demanding satisfaction. The interests of the entire band required
an immediate settlement of difficulties, so that their future plans
could be carried out in concert. In their dealings with each other
they were strictly honorable; and when by any mischance a rogue crept
into their ranks, if detected in any rascality, he was summarily and
severely dealt with. Their duels were serious events; for, oftentimes
both men were killed. In fact, the case could hardly be otherwise.
They were men of unflinching courage, and their weapons were generally
rifles, which, from long practice, they held with a certain and deadly
aim. We cannot better close this passage in the life of Kit Carson
than to quote the language held in 1846 by the Biographer[8] of the
great explorer, JOHN CHARLES FREMONT:

"He" (Christopher Carson) "is a remarkably peaceable and quiet man,
temperate in his habits, and strictly moral in his deportment. In a
letter written from California, in 1847, introducing Carson as the
bearer of dispatches to the government, Col. Fremont says: 'with me,
Carson and truth mean the same thing. He is always the same--gallant
and disinterested.' He is kind-hearted, and averse to all quarrelsome
and turbulent scenes, and has never been engaged in any mere personal
broils or encounters, except on one single occasion, which he
sometimes modestly describes to his friends. The narrative is fully
confirmed by an eye-witness, of whose presence at the time he was not
aware, and whose account he has probably never seen or heard of. I
shall tell the story as it is gathered from them both.[9]

[Footnote 8: Charles Wentworth Upham.]

[Footnote 9: The reader will easily correct the few discrepancies
of facts contained in this statement, by the narrative which is from
Carson himself, and given with a view to publication.]

"In the year 1835, the Rev. Samuel Parker made an exploring and
missionary tour, under the auspices of the American Board of
Commissioners for Foreign Missions, beyond the Rocky Mountains, and as
far as the settlements on the Columbia River. In his printed journal
he gives an account of the incident to which I am referring; it
occurred on the 12th of August, at a point on the borders of Green
River, beyond the South Pass, on the occasion of a 'rendezvous,' that
is, on a spot selected for Indians, trappers, and hunters to bring to
market their peltries, and obtain supplies from the agents of the Fur
Companies. There was a large concourse of savage tribes, and all the
various denizens of the wilderness. There were Frenchmen, Spaniards,
Dutchmen, Canadians, and Western backwoodsmen. The Rev. Mr. Parker
happened to be there, to witness the strange gathering. Of course
there were some rude characters, and not a little irregularity and
disorder. Conflicts were liable to arise between quarrelsome persons,
growing out of the feuds among the tribes, and animosities between the
representatives of different nations, all actuated by pride of race or
country.

"A hunter, named Shunan, a Frenchman, who was well known by the title
of the 'big bully of the mountains,' mounted his horse with a loaded
rifle, and dashing defiantly around, challenged any person, of any
nationality, to meet him in single combat. He boasted of his
exploits, and used the most insulting and irritating language, and was
particularly insolent and abusive towards Americans, whom he described
as only worth being whipped with switches. Kit Carson was in the
crowd, and his patriotic spirit kindled at the taunt. He at once
stepped forward and said, 'I am an American, the most trifling one
among them, but if you wish to die, I will accept your challenge.'
Shunan defied him. Carson at once leaped upon his horse, with a loaded
pistol, and both dashed into close conflict. They fired, almost at the
same moment, but Carson an instant the quickest. Their horses' heads
touched. Shunan's ball just grazed Carson's cheek, near the left eye,
and cut off some locks of his hair. Carson's ball entered Shunan's
hand, came out at the wrist, and passed through his arm above the
elbow. The bully begged his life, and it was spared.

"This put an effectual stop to all such insolent proceedings, and
Americans were insulted no longer. Carson is still living, being yet,
indeed, in his prime. His faithful commander has recorded his name
on the geography of the continent, by calling after him a river and a
lake, in the great basin they explored together."




CHAPTER V.

    The Fall Hunt--McCoy of the Hudson's Bay Company organizes a
    Trapping Party which Kit Carson joins--The Hunt--Scarcity of
    Beaver on Humboldt River--The Party is divided--Kit Carson
    with a majority of the Men goes to Fort Hall--Hardships and
    Privations met with--Buffalo Hunt--All their Animals stolen
    in the Night by a Party of Blackfeet Indians--Arrival of McCoy
    from Fort Walla Walla--The Rendezvous--Kit Carson joins a
    strong Band--The Small Pox among the Blackfeet Indians--The
    Crow Indians on good terms with the Whites--Intense
    Cold--Immense Herds of Buffalo--Danger of their goring to
    death the Horses--The Spring Hunt--The Blackfeet Indian
    Village overtaken--A desperate Fight with these Indians--The
    Rendezvous--Sir William Stuart and a favorite Missionary--Kit
    Carson goes an a Trading Expedition to the Navajoe
    Indians--The Return--He accepts the post of Hunter of the
    Trading Post at Brown's Hole.


Arrangements for the fall hunt were now in active progress among the
trappers. Though the reader may find some similarity of fact and idea
as we progress in this part of the Life of Kit Carson, the interest
which hangs about it, nevertheless, will not, or should not be
dampened, because this pen-painting of his long and active experience
is a better and more faithful exhibit of those qualifications,
knowledge and skill which afterwards made him, first the guide and
then the bosom friend of the illustrious Fremont, than any assertions
whether authenticated by published record, whether rested upon
statement on knowledge, information and belief of acquaintances and
friends, or, whether facts taken from the thousand allusions to his
exploits which have from time to time flooded the press of the United
States.

The company of trappers which had been so fortunate as to secure the
services of Kit Carson, for facts seem now to warrant us in employing
this language of just praise, set out for the Yellow Stone River,
which stream they safely reached, and on which they set their traps.
Dame Fortune here seemed to be in unpleasant mood. Crossing the
country from the Yellow Stone to the Big Horn River, they again
courted the old lady's smile with stoical patience, but with no better
results. They next extended their efforts to the three forks of the
Missouri River; also, to the Big Snake River. The fickle old lady
proved scornful on all these streams, and finally, on the latter
stream and its tributaries they wintered.

In this section of the country they fell in with Mr. Thomas McCoy,
a trader who was in the employ of the Hudson's Bay Company. In his
trading operations Mr. McCoy had been unsuccessful and had concluded
to organize a trapping expedition. The inducements which he held out
led Kit Carson and five of his companions to become members of his
party. With him they traveled to Mary's River,[10] from whence reports
had circulated that beaver existed in great abundance. The party
struck upon this stream high up and slowly followed it down to
where it is lost in the Great Basin. Their success here was not
satisfactory; consequently, the party returned to the Big Snake River.
By McCoy's direction the party tarried upon this river for some time
when it was divided. McCoy and a small escort started for Fort Walla
Walla. Kit Carson and the majority of the men took up their line of
march for Fort Hall. While en route, the latter division was subjected
to the greatest privations imaginable. Among the worst of these was
hunger, as their trail led through a barren region of country. For a
short time, they managed to subsist upon a small supply of nutritious
roots which had been provided in advance. This source finally gave
out, when their affairs assumed a most desperate attitude. To keep
from starving, they bled their mules and drank the warm red blood with
avidity, so acutely had the days of fasting sharpened their appetites.
This operation, however could not be repeated without endangering the
lives of their animals. These also were on a short allowance of food,
for the grass was very poor and scanty. The whole party had become
frightfully reduced in strength, and began to think it necessary to
kill some of their animals, which at this time they could but ill
spare. In this terrible condition they met with a band of Indians who
proved to be of a friendly disposition. The party was then only
about four days' journey from Fort Hall. Most unhappily, the Indians
themselves possessed but a scanty supply of provisions, and no more
than their immediate wants required. It was not without considerable
manoeuvering and talk, during which all the skill and Indian
experience possessed by Kit Carson were brought into active
requisition, that the savages were prevailed upon to trade with the
trappers. By the trade the half famished men obtained a fat horse,
which was immediately killed, and on which they regaled with as much
relish as the epicure in the settlements enjoys his "joint of roast
beef."

[Footnote 10: We give the name which was applied to this river at the
date of the facts related in the text. It is now called the Humboldt
River.]

To a man not accustomed to this kind of meat, mule flesh and horse
flesh would not be likely to prove over tempting or appropriate
viands. Let him feel the pangs of hunger very sharply, and his ideas
of lusciousness and propriety in respect to food will rapidly change.
The civilized world has condemned the practice as belonging to
barbarians. A mountaineer, not being quite so fastidious, scouts these
ideas, considering them foolish prejudices of people who have never
been forced by necessity to test the wisdom of their condemnation. Let
the epicurean sages have their choice, eat horse flesh or starve,
and, they confidently maintain, horse flesh would gradually grow to be
considered a dainty, the rarer over beef, in proportion to its greater
cost.

The trappers of the western prairies, who wander thousands of miles
over barren as well as fertile lands, where game cannot exist from
stern necessity, are compelled to submit to all kinds of vicissitudes;
but, with buoyant spirits, they conquer results, which, a faint heart
and yielding courage would behold almost in their grasp but fail to
reach.

An emergency calls forth skill and great energies; and, in an
unexplored country where, as in the case here recorded, everything
living suddenly disappears, it is then that the wits of a trapper save
his life when an ordinary traveler would lie down and die.

Kit Carson and his men, at last, succeeded in reaching Fort Hall. They
were kindly received and amply provided for by the whites who then
occupied it as a trading post. Here they rapidly recruited their
strength, and in the course of a few days felt able to start out upon
a buffalo hunt. Reports had come in that large numbers of buffalo
existed in close proximity to the Fort. Kit Carson and his men were
not the kind who live upon the bounty of others when game can be had
in return for the necessary effort to find. They were also not the
men to hoard their stock of provisions whenever they met parties in
distress. The first query which different bands of trappers offer
to each other on meeting in the wilderness, is, "Does game exist in
plenty," or "is game plenty in such and such sections of country?"
This takes precedence over the commonplace question, "What's the
news?" Oftentimes, when venturing into distant and unexplored
districts of territory they were obliged to take their chances of
finding sustenance; but, they hardly ever neglected an opportunity
to inform themselves on the subject: on the contrary, they often
sacrificed both time and profits in order to secure correct details.
Any other course would have been fool-hardy rashness, just fit for
parties of over-bold inexperience to take the consequences of.

Hunting the buffalo is a manly and interesting sport; and, as Kit
Carson on this occasion engaged in it with successful results, it
might be interesting to the general reader, and, in this place the
unity of the narrative seems to require, a complete and practical
description of the manner of taking the buffalo. We have, however
deferred this part of our duty to an occasion when Kit Carson had
his friend John C. Fremont upon his first buffalo hunt. We shall then
permit the bold Explorer to tell the story of a buffalo hunt in our
behalf.[11]

[Footnote 11: See page 161.]

During their sojourn at Fort Hall, the hardy trappers were not idle.
Besides the calls upon them by the hunt, they set to work with great
industry repairing their saddles, clothing and moccasins. With the
aid of a few buck-skins, usually procured from Indians, and a few rude
tools, they soon accomplished wonders.

To give the reader an appropriate view of the genius to conquer
obstacles displayed by the mountaineers, he must picture one of them
just starting upon a long journey over the prairies and through
the mountains. His wagon and harness trappings, if he chances to be
possessed of worldly effects sufficient to warrant him in purchasing a
first-class outfit, present a neat and trim appearance. Follow him
to the point of his destination, and there the reader will discover,
perhaps, a hundredth part of the original vehicle and trappings.
While en route, the bold and self-reliant man has met with a hundred
accidents. He has been repeatedly called upon to mend and patch both
wagon and harness, besides his own clothing. Though he now presents a
dilapidated appearance, he is none the less a man; and, if his name
is known as a regular trapper and mountaineer, he is immediately a
welcomed and honored guest. If the broadcloth of a prince covered his
back, spotless, scientifically shaped and foreign woven, his reception
would not be more heartfelt and sincerely cordial. It is amusing to
see the raw-hide patches of harness, wagon and clothing, now become
dry and hard as oak. To have dispensed with the use of buckskin on his
route, would have been like cutting off the right arm of the gallant
pioneer. Buckskin and the western wilds of America are almost
synonymous terms; at least, the one suggests the other, and therefore
they are of the same brotherhood. The traveler in these regions of
this day fails not to learn and appreciate its value. It has not only
furnished material for clothing, but has been used to repair almost
every article in daily use. Even the camp and tea-kettle, as well as
the frying, milk and saucepan, bedstead and hammock, chair and table,
all have had their buckskin appendage, as fast as any of them have
become injured or broken.

Everything being in readiness, Carson set out with his followers for
their hunting-grounds. Their pace was one of so much rapidity, that
after one day's march they discovered signs of the buffalo. On the
following morning immense herds were in sight. A suitable place for a
camp was soon selected, and everything which could impede their work
well stowed away. The best marksmen were selected for hunters, and the
remainder of the party detailed to take care of the meat as fast
as the hunters should bring it in. Poles were planted on the open
prairies, and from one to the other ropes of hide were stretched. Upon
these ropes strips of the buffalo meat were hung for curing,
which consists of merely drying it in the sun's rays. After it is
sufficiently dried, it is taken down and bound up in bundles.
During the time of hunting and curing, the trappers feasted upon
the delicacies of the game, which consist of the tongue, liver and
peculiar fat which is found along the back of the buffalo. Their past
sufferings from hunger had made them so determined in the work of
procuring game, that in a few days they possessed meat sufficient to
load down all their pack animals. They now thought about returning to
Fort Hall. Their pace, however, rendered so by their weighty game, was
very slow. Their old enemies, the Blackfeet Indians, had discovered
them while engaged in this hunt. They followed them on the march to
the Fort, the trappers being wholly unaware of their presence; in
fact, the idea of hostile Indians had not troubled their thoughts.

Two or three nights after they arrived at the Fort, taking advantage
of a dark evening, the Indians deprived them of all their animals.
This was the result of carelessness on the part of one of the men,
which, under the circumstances, was excusable. The party had encamped
just without the pickets of the Fort, but had taken the precaution to
secure their horses and mules while they slept, by placing them in the
_corral_[12] belonging to the station. A sentinel was put upon duty
over the corral, in order to make everything doubly secure. In the
latter part of the night, nearly at daybreak, the sentinel saw two
persons advance and deliberately let down the bars leading into the
yard and drive out the animals. He mistook these men for two of
his companions who were authorized to take the herd out to graze.
Concluding, therefore, without going to them, that he was relieved,
he sought his resting-place and was soon fast asleep. In the morning,
anxious inquiries were made for the horses and mules, when a
very short investigation revealed the truth of matters. It was,
undoubtedly, very fortunate for the sentinel that he fell into the
error alluded to. It was very apparent that the two advanced Indians
who let down the bars were backed up by a strong party. The signs
of Indians, discovered afterwards, proved this beyond a doubt. Their
reserve party were posted where the least resistance on the part of
the sentinel would have been followed by his quick and certain death.
This successful theft was, no doubt, considered by the Indians a cause
for great rejoicing. It may have formed the basis of promoting the
brave who planned and directed it, as the animals had been obtained
without the loss of a man or even the receiving of a wound. The
parties living at the Fort were equally as poorly off for horses
and mules as were now the trappers. The same Indians had recently
performed the same trick upon them. The loss was most severely felt by
the trappers, inasmuch as they had not a single animal left upon which
to give chase. Nothing remained for them to enact, except a stoical
indifference over their loss and await the return of McCoy, who had
agreed, after finishing his business at Fort Walla Walla, to rejoin,
them at Fort Hall.

[Footnote 12: _Corral_, a barnyard.]

This tribe of Indians, the Blackfeet, whose meddlesome dispositions
have so frequently brought them in contact with Kit Carson in such and
dissimilar affairs, occupy the country on the Yellow Stone River and
about the head waters of the Missouri. There are other tribes in close
proximity, the most important of which is the tribe called the Crows.
When Kit Carson first entered upon his wild career the Blackfeet
Indians numbered nearly thirty thousand souls. They were greatly
reduced in numbers within the next six or seven years, between 1832
and 1839. In the last-named year, in consequence of the ravages of
the small pox, heretofore alluded to and which prevailed the
year previous, they had lost at least fifty per cent. The Indian
computations of 1850, according to Brownell, give their numbers at
only about thirteen thousand. They are one of the finest races of the
American Aborigines. Powerful in frame and development; well trained
in horsemanship, although in this they are surpassed by the Camanches;
capable of great endurance; and, usually well fitted as to arms,
dress, horse trappings, _et cætera_, they generally prove knotty
customers as enemies. We ought not to pass by this notice of the
Blackfeet Indians without calling the attention of the inquisitive
reader to a remarkable proof which is afforded by the whole
intercourse of these western trappers with the Blackfeet Indians, as
thus detailed by Kit Carson, of an assertion hazarded some years ago
by Charles De Wolf Brownell, in his admirable work upon the Indian
races of North and South America. On pages 465-6, Mr. Brownell comes
to the defence of the Crow tribe of Indians, which, up to that time,
had been characterized as a "lawless, thieving horde of savages."
"But," says Mr. Brownell, "those best acquainted with their character
and disposition, speak of them as honest and trustworthy." The
adventures of Kit Carson among both the Crow and the Blackfeet
Indians, we think, demonstrate pretty conclusively which of these
contiguous tribes are the horse stealers. The Crows, it will be
remembered, are more particularly inhabitants of the mountainous
regions. The Blackfeet have ever been their sworn and implacable foes.
Their burials of the hatchet have been few and far between, and
never in deep soil. It is not, therefore, to be wondered at that
the Blackfeet reputation should extend to the Crows; but, although
circumstances exist which condemn the latter, they are few in number
compared with the sins laid by the traders and trappers at the
tent-doors of the former.

After the lapse of one month McCoy made his appearance and, most
opportunely, brought an extra supply of animals. The camp was soon
struck and the whole band started for the rendezvous, which had been
appointed to convene at the mouth of Horse Creek on the Green River.
They reached this place after several days of hard travel. As usual,
trading operations did not commence until all the regular bands
of trappers had arrived and reported. They were then commenced and
continued through a period of twenty days. Here Kit Carson left the
company under McCoy and joined a company under the management of a
Mr. Fontenelle which numbered one hundred men. This party went to and
trapped 

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