Life of Kit Carson, the Great Western Hunter and Guide
by Charles Burdett · English · Gutenberg #41864 · 456,801 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: Life of Kit Carson, the Great Western Hunter and Guide
Author: Charles Burdett
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Most recently updated: October 23, 2024
Language: English
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIFE OF KIT CARSON, THE GREAT WESTERN HUNTER AND GUIDE ***
[Illustration: KIT CARSON.]
LIFE
OF
KIT CARSON,
THE
GREAT WESTERN HUNTER AND GUIDE:
COMPRISING
WILD AND ROMANTIC EXPLOITS AS A HUNTER AND TRAPPER IN
THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS; THRILLING ADVENTURES AND
HAIRBREADTH ESCAPES AMONG THE INDIANS AND
MEXICANS; HIS DARING AND INVALUABLE
SERVICES AS A GUIDE TO SCOUTING
AND OTHER PARTIES, ETC., ETC.
WITH AN ACCOUNT OF VARIOUS GOVERNMENT EXPEDITIONS
TO THE FAR WEST.
BY CHARLES BURDETT.
ILLUSTRATED.
PHILADELPHIA:
PORTER & COATES,
NO. 822 CHESTNUT STREET.
Copyright, 1869, by JOHN E. POTTER & CO.
PREFACE.
In offering to the public a revised and complete history of the most
remarkable of American frontiersmen, we perform a pleasing task. All the
attainable circumstances connected with his life, adventures and death
are fully set forth, and we offer this in confidence as a reliable
authority for the reader.
No one should hesitate to familiarize himself with the exploits of the
subject of this volume. They evince a magnanimity and an uprightness of
character that is rarely found in one leading so daring and intensely
wild a life, and cannot but contribute their share of lustre to the
interesting records of the Far West. We regret that his modesty, equally
proverbial with his daring, prompted him to withhold many of the
exciting incidents of his career from the public.
We have compiled a portion of this work from such official reports of
his great skill, indomitable energy, and unfaltering courage as have
been communicated by his friend and commander, Col. Fremont, who has
invariably awarded to him all the best attributes of manhood, when
opportunity afforded. Added to these, our hero had been prevailed upon
by a few of his friends to communicate some of the records of the most
important passages in his extraordinary and eventful life, which are
embodied in this volume.
His has indeed been a life of peculiarly exciting personal hazards, bold
adventures, daring coolness, and moral and physical courage, such as has
seldom transpired in the world, and we have been greatly impressed, in
its preparation, with the necessity for a thorough work of this kind.
All are aware that the young, and even matured, often seek for books of
wild adventure, and if those of an unhurtful and truthful character are
not found, they are apt to betake themselves to trashy and damaging
literature. In this view, this work has a purpose which, we trust, will
commend it to every family throughout the land.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
Hero of the narrative -- from what race descended -- his fame
-- theater of his exploits-nativity -- his father emigrates to
Missouri -- father's occupation -- Kit's apprenticeship --
dissatisfaction with his trade -- joins an expedition to Santa
Fe -- surgical operation -- Santa Fe, its situation, business,
style of buildings, water, appearance, altitude, scenery,
population -- spends the winter at Taos -- learns the Spanish
language -- joins a party bound to Missouri -- returns to
Santa Fe -- becomes a teamster -- El Paso, its grape culture,
style of living of its people, name -- youth of traveler --
new occupation for the winter -- becomes interpreter for a
trader. 13
CHAPTER II.
Chihuahua, cathedral, statues, public buildings, convent,
mint, trade, age, population -- Carson longs for the prairie
-- changes employment -- returns to Taos -- joins a party of
hunters and trappers to punish the Indians -- result of the
affray -- Indian style of fighting -- method of trapping for
beaver -- beaver signs -- setting the traps -- bait --
fastening the traps -- caution in setting the traps. 21
CHAPTER III.
Carson's qualifications for a trapper -- starts for California
-- desert in the route -- Mohave Indians, non-intercourse with
whites, appearance, dress, ornaments, painting their bodies,
money -- Mission San Gabriel, cattle, horses, sheep, mules,
vineyards, income -- other Missions in California, when
founded, laborers -- Missions of Upper California --
Missionary subscriptions -- management of the fund --
Commandante-general -- the Monks -- golden age of the
Missions. 29
CHAPTER IV.
New Mexico and Arizona -- their desert prairies -- Carson in
California -- traps on the San Joaquin -- the valley of the
Sacramento. 40
CHAPTER V.
The Digger Indians, a description of them, and their mode of
living -- Carson's visit to a ranche in search of a cow -- his
journey to the camp with his prize. 45
CHAPTER VI.
Carson at the Mission San Gabriel -- recovers sixty stolen
horses after a fight with the Indians -- "Los Angelos" --
climate of California. 54
CHAPTER VII.
Visit to a ranche -- likes California, but likes buffalo
better -- leaves Los Angelos, and traps on the Colorado -- in
a tight place, but gets out of it. 66
CHAPTER VIII.
Trapping with Young upon the Colorado -- captures cattle and
horses from the Indians -- goes to Santa Fe, disposes of furs,
and sows his wild oats -- _coureurs des bois_, travels,
dress, habits -- joins Mr. Fitzpatrick trapping among the Nez
Perces -- winters in the New Park -- punishes the Crow Indians
for horse-stealing -- pursues and punishes robbers of a
_cache_ -- flies from a party of sixty Indians. 76
CHAPTER IX.
Hunts with two companions -- saving his money -- trading with
Captain Lee -- pursues an Indian horse-thief and recovers the
horses without assistance -- traps on the Laramie -- fight
with two grizzlies -- description of the grizzly bear, his
food -- traps among the Blackfeet -- unsuccessful attempt to
chastise Blackfeet horse-thieves -- Carson is wounded --
Bridger's pursuit without finding them. 83
CHAPTER X.
Carson, recovered, attends summer rendezvous on Green River --
description of the rendezvous -- camp, traders, charges --
British Fur Company -- the Indians bringing in furs --
appearance of Montreal at a fair for the Indians -- trappers
and traders from the States -- purchases of the trappers,
necessaries, luxuries, Indian wife. 93
CHAPTER XI.
Green River rendezvous again -- the backwoodsman -- Carson the
peace-maker -- Sherman the bully, his punishment -- cause of
the duel -- trapping and parley with the Blackfeet -- on
Humboldt River -- explores the desert -- discovers the river
afterwards named for him. 101
CHAPTER XII.
Dreary prospect on the Humboldt -- Humboldt Lake -- sinks of
other rivers -- overflow of Humboldt Lake and River -- station
at the sink, the traders -- Humboldt Indians -- Fourth of July
on the Humboldt -- Humboldt sinking -- land available for
agriculture on this river. 109
CHAPTER XIII.
Carson on the Humboldt -- sufferings of the return party --
Pyramid Circle -- a horse purchased for food -- buffalo hunt,
meat jerked -- horses stolen by the Indians -- extent of
buffalo ranges -- buffalo upon the Platte in 1857, numbers,
trails crossing the river, animals killed. 116
CHAPTER XIV.
Carson traps with a party of a hundred in the Blackfeet
country -- winter camp among the Crows -- Indian lodges --
winter life of the trappers -- fight with the Blackfeet --
Carson saves the life of a friend, dislodges the Indians from
a rocky fastness, and compels their flight -- no more
molestation -- the rendezvous -- trade with the Navajos
Indians -- fort at Brown's Hole -- goes again against the
Blackfeet, a thousand warriors assemble, retire without an
engagement -- traps on the Salmon River -- among the
Blackfeet, another fight, leaves their country -- Chinook and
Flathead Indians -- process of flattening the head. 126
CHAPTER XV.
Carson continues trapping -- the trade becomes unprofitable --
war of extermination upon the beaver, silk for hats prevents
-- Carson's experience enables him to aid one who should
explore in behalf of science -- knowledge of the country --
comes to Bent's Fort, forsaking trapping -- becomes hunter for
the fort -- his employers -- his business -- reputation as a
hunter -- fulfills the early hopes of him -- knowledge of the
country -- regard shown him, especially by the Indians --
diplomatist between the Sioux and the Camanches -- marriage --
death of his wife -- takes his child to St. Louis for
education -- changes at his old home -- reception at St. Louis
-- meets Col. Fremont -- engages to guide Fremont's exploring
party to the South Pass in the Rocky Mountains. 139
CHAPTER XVI.
Party of explorers starting -- style of encamping -- defense
-- morning in camp -- ford of the Kansas -- India-rubber boat
-- accident from overloading the boat -- Carson ill -- lies in
camp on the prairie. 152
CHAPTER XVII.
Road over rolling prairie -- Pawnee country -- false alarm of
the presence of Indians -- Carson rides to discover the cause
-- coast of the Platte River -- party of trappers from Fort
Laramie -- one of this party joins Fremont's company --
buffalo -- appearance of the herds -- feasting in the camp --
Carson's mishap in the hunt -- Carson, Maxwell, and Fremont
join in the chase. 157
CHAPTER XVIII.
Fremont divides his party -- attempt to lasso a wild horse --
Maxwell prevents an Indian attack -- Indians on a buffalo hunt
-- return laden with meat -- Cheyenne village -- tripod
support for their weapons -- Fremont entertained by the chief
-- tribute to the Great Spirit on taking the pipe -- Jim
Beckwith -- other settlers on the mountain streams -- St.
Vrain's Fort -- Fort Laramie -- Carson's camp -- excitement in
the company -- hostile intentions of the Indians --
preparations for continuing the explorations -- one of the
command dismissed. 167
CHAPTER XIX.
The growth of Artemisia -- fate of the Indian party so much
dreaded -- cache of wagons and other effects -- value of
Carson's aid to Fremont -- propriety of calling this an
exploring party -- ascent to the South Pass -- exploration up
a tributary of Green River -- lake at its source -- continue
to explore in the mountains -- Fremont climbs the highest
summit -- why Carson was not with him. 179
CHAPTER XX.
Party returns to Fort Laramie -- Carson remains -- marriage --
joins Fremont -- a second exploring expedition -- object of
the expedition -- Great Salt Lake -- Fremont's description --
current impressions in regard to the lake -- Beer Springs --
Hot Springs -- Standing Rock. 188
CHAPTER XXI.
A part of Fremont's men return East -- leave Fort Hall, en
route for the valley of the Columbia -- difficulty of finding
camping places -- Carson kills buffalo -- melancholy looking
country -- crossing Snake River -- fish-eating Indians --
refitting equipage at the Dalles -- proposed return route --
spirits of the party -- Tlamath Lake -- sufferings of the
party. 208
CHAPTER XXII.
Fremont's story of the difficulties and exposures of his party
-- hot springs -- explorations for grass -- mountain lake --
central ridge of the Sierra Nevada -- Indians -- talks by
signs -- Indian guide -- encouragement afforded by Carson's
descriptions of California -- provisions low -- snow deep --
animals weak -- Indian harangue -- guide deserts -- Carson
recognizes Sacramento valley and the coast range -- taking the
horses through the snow -- sleds for the baggage -- pine nuts
the food of the Indians -- glorious sunrise. 217
CHAPTER XXIII.
Thunder storm -- view of the Sacramento, and Bay of San
Francisco -- mauls to path the snow -- Carson saves Fremont
from drowning -- rapid river, snow, grass, pines, live oak,
mistletoe -- division of the party -- horses lost -- members
of the party wander, return -- horses killed for food --
country improving in beauty -- arrival at Sutter's Fort --
description of a _cache_. 237
CHAPTER XXIV.
Carson at home in Taos -- decides to commence farming --
preparations -- Fremont requests his service for a third
expedition -- meeting at Bent's Fort -- head-waters -- Great
Salt Lake -- expedition divides -- Horse-Thief Indians -- the
skirmish. 250
CHAPTER XXV.
Arrival at Sutter's Fort -- command of Gen. Castro to leave
the country -- his march against Fremont -- Fremont departs
for Oregon -- Indians instigated by the Mexicans, Fremont's
march against them -- he returns to California -- another
Indian fight. 264
CHAPTER XXVI.
Loss to Fremont's party -- Carson's attack upon Indian village
-- start for the Sacramento -- Fremont's campaign against the
Mexicans -- captures Sonoma -- calls American settlers into
his service -- Gen. Castro leaves San Francisco -- Fremont
garrisons Sutter's Fort -- marches to Monterey -- Commodore
Sloat in possession -- hoists the flag of the United States. 273
CHAPTER XXVII.
Fremont marches on, and occupies Los Angelos -- appointed
Governor of California -- Carson starts for Washington as
bearer of dispatches -- unexpected meeting with Apache Indians
-- meets the expedition of Gen. Kearney -- returns to
California as guide. 280
CHAPTER XXVIII.
March to California -- Mexicans intercept Kearney's troops --
American attack on the Mexican force -- disastrous result --
Carson and Lieut. Beale reach San Diego -- reinforcements sent
by Com. Stockton -- capture of Los Angelos -- Mexicans
surrender to Fremont -- want of harmony in the American camps. 285
CHAPTER XXIX.
Graphic description of the entrance into Monterey, of Fremont,
Carson, and party -- indiscretions of American officers --
Kearney's dispatch to the War Department -- Fremont's
extraordinary ride. 302
CHAPTER XXX.
Fremont visits his Mariposa purchase -- grand hunt and ball --
the fandango -- Carson and Beale ordered to Washington -- kind
reception -- appointed to a lieutenancy -- encounter with
Camanches -- arrival at Los Angelos -- sent to the Tejon Pass
-- again to Washington -- arrival at home -- the warlike
Apaches -- Carson entertains Fremont and suffering explorers. 315
CHAPTER XXXI.
Dreadful sufferings endured by Fremont and party -- error in
engaging a guide -- Fremont's letter to his wife -- horrible
details. 330
CHAPTER XXXII.
Mr. Carvalho's narrative -- cravings of hunger -- disgusting
food considered a delicacy -- Death of Mr. Fuller -- Carson
joins Col. Beale as guide -- the Apache and Camanche Indians. 341
CHAPTER XXXIII.
Carson and Maxwell's settlement -- exploits in defense of his
neighbors -- encounter with the Cheyennes -- rescue. 341
CHAPTER XXXIV.
Grand trapping expedition -- the Mountain Parks -- Pike's Peak
-- Carson drives sheep to California -- San Francisco --
appointed Indian Agent -- habits -- services in New Mexico --
his death at Fort Lyon -- summing up. 369
LIFE OF CHRISTOPHER CARSON.
CHAPTER I.
As, for their intrepid boldness and stern truthfulness, the exploits and
deeds of the old Danish sea-kings, have, since the age of Canute, been
justly heralded in song and story; so now by the world-wide voice of the
press, this, their descendant, as his name proves him, is brought before
the world: and as the stern integrity of the exploits and deeds of the
old Danes in the age of Canute were heralded by song and story; so too,
in this brief and imperfect memoir, are those of one who by name and
birthright claims descent from them. The subject of the present memoir,
Christopher Carson, familiarly known under the appellation of Kit
Carson, is one of the most extraordinary men of the present era. His
fame has long been established throughout this country and Europe, as a
most skillful and intrepid hunter, trapper, guide, and pilot of the
prairies and mountains of the far West, and Indian fighter. But his
celebrity in these characters is far surpassed by that of his individual
personal traits of courage, coolness, fidelity, kindness, honor, and
friendship. The theatre of his exploits is extended throughout the whole
western portion of the territory of the United States, from the
Mississippi to the Pacific, and his associates have been some of the
most distinguished men of the present age, to all of whom he has become
an object of affectionate regard and marked respect. The narrative which
follows will show his titles to this distinction, so far as his modesty
(for the truly brave are always modest) has permitted the world to learn
anything of his history.
It appears, from the various declarations of those most intimate with
Christopher Carson, as well as from a biography published a number of
years before his death, that he was a native of Madison county,
Kentucky, and was born on the 24th of December, 1809. Colonel Fremont in
his exhaustive and interesting Report of his Exploring Expedition to
Oregon and North California, in 1843-44, says that Carson is a native
of Boonslick county, Missouri; and from his long association with the
hunter, he probably makes the statement on Carson's own authority. The
error, if it is an error, may have arisen from the fact stated by Mr.
Peters, that Carson's father moved from Kentucky to Missouri, when
Christopher was only one year old. He settled in what is now Howard
county, in the central part of Missouri.
At the time of Mr. Carson's emigration, Missouri was called Upper
Louisiana, being a part of the territory ceded to the United States by
France in 1803, and it became a separate State, under the name of
Missouri, in 1821. When Mr. Carson removed his family from Kentucky, and
settled in the new territory, it was a wild region, naturally fertile,
thus favoring his views as a cultivator; abounding in wild game, and
affording a splendid field of enterprise for the hunter, but infested on
all sides with Indians, often hostile, and always treacherous.
As Mr. Carson united the pursuits of farmer and hunter, and lived in a
sort of block-house or fort, as a precaution against the attacks of the
neighboring Indians, his son became accustomed to the presence of
danger, and the necessity of earnest action and industry from his
earliest childhood.
At the age of fifteen, Kit Carson was apprenticed to Mr. Workman, a
saddler. This trade requiring close confinement, was, of course, utterly
distasteful to a boy already accustomed to the use of the rifle, and the
stirring pleasures of the hunter's life, and at the end of two years,
his apprenticeship was terminated, for Kit, who, with his experience as
the son of a noted hunter, himself perfectly familiar with the rifle,
and, young as he was, acknowledged to be one of the best and surest
shots, even in that State, where such merit predominated at that time
over almost every other, could not bear in patience the silent,
sedentary monotony of his life, voluntarily abandoned the further
pursuit of the trade, and sought the more active employment of a
trader's life.
His new pursuit was more congenial. He joined an armed band of traders
in an expedition to Santa Fe, the capital of New Mexico. This, at that
period, (1826,) was rather a perilous undertaking, on account of the
Indian tribes who were ever ready to attack a trading caravan, when
there was any prospect of overcoming it. No attack was made on the
party, however, and no incident of importance occurred, if we except
the accident to one of the teamsters who wounded himself by carelessly
handling a loaded rifle, so as to render it necessary to amputate his
arm. In this operation Carson assisted, the surgical instruments being a
razor, an old saw, and an iron bolt, heated red hot, in order to apply
the actual cautery. Notwithstanding this rough surgery, the man
recovered.[A]
In November (1826) the party arrived at Santa Fe, the capital, and the
largest town in the then Mexican province of New Mexico. This place is
situated on the Rio Chiuto, or Santa Fe river, an affluent of the Rio
Grande, from which it is distant about 20 miles. It was then, as now,
the great emporium of the overland trade, which, since 1822, has been
carried on with the State of Missouri. The houses are chiefly built of
_adobes_, or unburnt bricks, each dwelling forming a square, with a
court in the centre upon which the apartments open. This mode of
building, originally Moorish, prevails in all the colonies settled by
the Spaniards, as well as in Old Spain, and the oriental countries. It
makes each house a sort of fortress, as General Taylor's troops learned
to their cost at the siege of Monterey. The front entrance of each
house is large enough to admit animals with their packs.
Santa Fe is well supplied with cool water from springs within its
limits, and from fountains above the city near the neighbouring
mountain. The appearance of the place is inviting and imposing, as it
stands on a plateau elevated more than 7000 feet above the sea, and near
a snow capped mountain, which rises 5000 feet above the level of the
town; but the population is said to be exceedingly depraved. The present
population is about 5000; but at the time of Carson's first visit, it
was comparatively a small town.
Soon after their arrival at Santa Fe, Carson left the trading band,
which he had joined when he abandoned the saddlery business, or trade,
as the reader may choose to term it, and of which we have previously
spoken, and proceeded to Fernandez de Taos. In this place Carson passed
the winter of 1826-7, at the house of a retired mountaineer. And it was
while residing there, that he acquired that thorough familiarity with
the Spanish language, which, in after years, proved of such essential
service to him. In the spring he joined a party bound for Missouri, but
meeting another band of Santa Fe traders, he joined them and returned
to that place. Here his services being no longer required by the
traders, he was again thrown out of employment. He now engaged himself
as teamster to a party bound to El Paso, a settlement, or more properly
a line of settlements, embracing a population of about 5,000, situated
in the rich, narrow valley which extends 9 or 10 miles along the right
bank of the Rio Grande, in the Mexican State of Chihuahua, 350 miles S.
by W. of Santa Fe. Here the grape is extensively cultivated, and
considerable quantities of light wine and brandy, (called by the traders
_Pass wine_ and _Pass brandy_,) are made. The houses are like those of
Santa Fe, built of _adobes_ with earthen floors. With abundance of
natural advantages, the people are content to live without those
appliances of civilized life, considered indispensable by the poorest
American citizens. Glazed windows, chairs, tables, knives and forks, and
similar every day conveniences are unknown even to the rich among the
people of El Paso. The place is the chief emporium of the trade between
New Mexico and Chihuahua, and its name, "the passage" is derived from
the passage of the river through a gorge or gap in the mountain just
above the town.
On his arrival at this place, young Carson might justly be considered
in view of his age, (not yet 18,) more than an ordinary traveler. He had
arrived at a spot where everything was strange to him. New people, new
customs, a new climate, a wine country, a population of mixed breed,
half Indian, half Spaniard--everything wearing a foreign aspect;
everything totally different from his home in Missouri.
He did not remain long in this place, but returned to Santa Fe, whence
he again found his way to Taos, where he passed the winter in the
service of Mr. Ewing Young, in the humble capacity of cook; this he soon
forsook for the more pleasant and profitable position of Spanish
interpreter to a trader named Tramell, with whom he, for the second
time, made the long journey to El Paso and Chihuahua.
CHAPTER II.
Chihuahua, where Carson had now arrived, is the capital of the Mexican
province bearing the same name. It is situated on a small tributary of
the Conchos river, in the midst of a plain. It is regularly laid out and
well built; the streets are broad and some of them paved. Like other
cities built by the Spaniards, it has its great public square, or Plaza
Major, on one side of which stands the cathedral, an imposing edifice of
hewn stone, built at a cost of $300,000. It is surmounted with a dome
and two towers, and has a handsome façade with statues of the twelve
apostles, probably the first statues that Carson had ever seen. Other
public buildings surround the square, and there is a fountain in the
middle. The city contains a convent founded by the Jesuits, and an
aqueduct 3-1/2 miles long, supported by vast arches and communicating
with the river Chihuahua. It has also its mint, and in the neighborhood
are silver mines with furnaces for melting the ore. It carries on an
extensive trade with the United States by means of caravans to St. Louis
in Missouri, and San Antonio in Texas. It was founded in 1691, and
during the time when the silver mines were in successful operation, it
contained 70,000 inhabitants. The population at present is 14,000.
As he had come with one of the trading caravans in the service of
Colonel Tramell as Spanish interpreter, we might naturally expect that
the engagement would be a permanent one. But such was not the case. The
monotony of this life soon disgusted him, and after weary weeks passed
in comparative idleness, he longed again for the freedom of the prairie
and the forest, and gladly abandoning the rather dignified position of
interpreter to Colonel Tramell, entered into the service of Mr. Robert
M. Knight, in the more humble capacity of teamster in an expedition to
the copper mines on the river Gila, whence he soon after found his way
back to Taos.
It was during this visit to Taos that Carson was first enabled to
gratify the desire which he had long entertained of becoming a regular
hunter and trapper. A party of trappers in the service of Carson's old
friend, Mr. Ewing Young, had returned to Taos, having been beaten off
from their hunting and trapping grounds by a hostile band of Indians.
Mr. Young raised a party of forty men, for the double purpose of
chastising the Indians, and resuming the business of trapping, and
Carson joined them. The fact that he was accepted for this service was a
marked token of esteem for his valor, as well as his skill in hunting,
parties of this description always avoiding the enlistment of
inexperienced recruits, as likely to embarrass their operations in the
field.
The ostensible object of the expedition was to punish the Indians, but
its ultimate purpose was to trap for beavers. The Mexicans by an express
law had forbidden granting licenses to any American parties, and in this
instance a circuitous route was chosen to conceal their real design.
They did not fall in with the Indians of whom they were in pursuit,
until they had reached the head of one of the affluents of the Rio Gila,
called Salt River. Once in presence of their enemies they made short
work with them, killing fifteen of their warriors, and putting the whole
band to rout. Such occurrences were by no means unfrequent, as we shall
see in the course of this narrative. A small body of experienced
hunters and trappers, confident in their superior skill and discipline,
never hesitates to attack a greatly superior number of Indians, and it
was a rare thing that success did not attend their daring. The Indian is
not fond of a "fair stand up fight." He prefers stratagem and ambush,
and reverences as a great "brave," the warrior who is most successful in
circumventing his enemies, and bringing off many scalps without the loss
of a man; but when a considerable number of Indians are shot down in the
first onset, the remainder are very apt to take to flight in every
direction.
We have said that Carson joined the party of trappers under the command
of Mr. Ewing Young, and it may not be out of place to describe briefly
the mode of life which parties in that pursuit have to adopt, with a few
remarks upon the habits and haunts of the animal, for whose sake men
were then so willing to risk their lives, and to undergo such hardships.
The method of trapping for beaver formerly employed by the trappers in
the western country, is thus described by one who has had considerable
experience in the art; and we quote it as illustrating the severe
training to which Carson had voluntarily subjected himself:
"To be a successful trapper, required great caution as well as a perfect
knowledge of the habits of the animal. The residence of the beaver was
often discovered by seeing bits of green wood, and gnawed branches of
the bass-wood, slippery elm, and sycamore, their favorite food, floating
on the water, or lodged on the shores of the stream below, as well as by
their tracks or foot-marks. These indications were technically called
_beaver sign_. They were also sometimes discovered by their dams, thrown
across creeks and small sluggish streams, forming a pond in which were
erected their habitations.
"The hunter, as he proceeded to set his traps, generally approached by
water, in his canoe. He selected a steep, abrupt spot in the bank of the
creek, in which a hole was excavated with his paddle, as he sat in the
canoe, sufficiently large to hold the trap, and so deep as to be about
three inches below the surface of the water, when the jaws of the trap
were expanded. About two feet above the trap, a stick, three or four
inches in length, was stuck in the bank. In the upper end of this, the
trapper excavated a small hole with his knife, into which he dropped a
small quantity of the essence, or perfume, which was used to attract
the beaver to the spot. This stick was attached by a string of horse
hair to the trap, and with it was pulled into the water by the beaver.
The reason for this was, that it might not remain after the trap was
sprung, and attract other beavers to the spot, and thus prevent their
going to where there was another trap ready for them.
"The scent, or essence, was made by mingling the fresh castor of the
beaver, with an extract of the bark of the roots of the spice-bush, and
kept in a bottle for use. The making of this essence was held a profound
secret, and often sold for a considerable sum to the younger trappers,
by the older proficients in the mystery of beaver hunting. Where they
had no proper bait, they sometimes made use of the fresh roots of
sassafras, or spice-bush; of both these the beaver was very fond.
"It is said by old trappers that they will smell the well-prepared
essence the distance of a mile. Their sense of smell is very acute, or
they would not so readily detect the vicinity of man by the smell of his
trail. The aroma of the essence having attracted the animal into the
vicinity of the trap, in his attempt to reach it, he has to climb up on
to the bank where it is sticking. This effort leads him directly over
the trap, and he is usually taken by one of the fore legs. The trap was
connected by a chain of iron, six feet in length, to a stout line made
of the bark of the leather-wood, twisted into a neat cord, of fifteen or
twenty feet. These were usually prepared by the trappers at home or at
their camps, for cords of hemp or flax were scarce in the days of beaver
hunting. The end of the line was secured to a stake driven into the bed
of the creek under water, and in his struggles to escape, the beaver was
usually drowned before the arrival of the trapper. Sometimes, however,
he freed himself by gnawing off his own leg, though this was rarely the
case. If there was a prospect of rain, or it was raining at the time of
setting the trap, a leaf, generally of sycamore, was placed over the
essence stick, to protect it from the rain.
"The beaver being a very sagacious and cautious animal, it required
great care in the trapper in his approach to its haunts to set his
traps, that no scent of his feet or hands was left on the earth, or
bushes that he touched. For this reason he generally approached in a
canoe. If he had no canoe, it was necessary to enter the stream thirty
or forty yards below, and walk in the water to the place, taking care
to return in the same manner, lest the beaver should take alarm and not
come near the bait, as his fear of the vicinity of man was greater than
his sense of appetite for the essence. It also required caution in
kindling a fire near their haunts, as the smell of smoke alarmed them.
The firing of a gun, also, often marred the sport of the trapper, and
thus it will be seen that to make a successful beaver hunter, required
more qualities or natural gifts than fall to the share of most men."
CHAPTER III.
Carson's previous habits and pursuits had eminently qualified him to
become an useful and even a distinguished member of Mr. Young's company
of trappers. He had lived in the midst of danger from his childhood. He
was familiar with the use of arms; and several years of travel and
adventure had already given him more knowledge of the western wilds in
the neighborhood of the region which was the scene of their present
operations, than was possessed by many who had seen more years than
himself. Added to this, he had become well acquainted with the peculiar
character and habits of the western Indians, who were now prowling
around their camp, and occasionally stealing their traps, game, and
animals.
The party pursued their business successfully for some time on the Salt
and San Francisco rivers, when a part of them returned to New Mexico,
and the remainder, eighteen in number, under the lead of Mr. Young,
started for the valley of Sacramento, California, and it was to this
latter party Carson was attached. Their route led them through one of
the dry deserts of the country, and not only did they suffer
considerably from the want of water, but their provisions giving out,
they were often happy when they could make a good dinner on horse-flesh.
Near the Cañon of the Colorado they encountered a party of Mohave
Indians, who furnished them with some provisions, which relieved them
from the apprehension of immediate want.
The Mohave Indians are thus described by a recent visitor:
"These Indians are probably in as wild a state of nature as any tribe on
American territory. They have not had sufficient intercourse with any
civilized people, to acquire a knowledge of their language, or their
vices. It was said that no white party had ever before passed through
their country without encountering hostility; nevertheless they appear
intelligent, and to have naturally amiable dispositions. The men are
tall, erect, and well-proportioned; their features inclined to European
regularity; their eyes large, shaded by long lashes, and surrounded by
circles of blue pigment, that add to their apparent size. The apron, or
breech-cloth for men, and a short petticoat, made of strips of the inner
bark of the cotton-wood, for women, are the only articles of dress
deemed indispensable; but many of the females have long robes, or
cloaks, of fur. The young girls wear beads; but when married, their
chins are tattooed with vertical blue lines, and they wear a necklace
with a single sea-shell in front, curiously wrought. These shells are
very ancient, and esteemed of great value.
"From time to time they rode into the camp, mounted on spirited horses;
their bodies and limbs painted and oiled, so as to present the
appearance of highly-polished mahogany. The dandies paint their faces
perfectly black. Warriors add a streak of red across the forehead, nose,
and chin. Their ornaments consist of leathern bracelets, adorned with
bright buttons, and worn on the left arm; a kind of tunic, made of
buckskin fringe, hanging from the shoulders; beautiful eagles' feathers,
called 'sormeh'--sometimes white, sometimes of a crimson tint--tied to a
lock of hair, and floating from the top of the head; and, finally,
strings of wampum, made of circular pieces of shell, with holes in the
centre, by which they are strung, often to the length of several yards,
and worn in coils about the neck. These shell beads, which they call
'pook,' are their substitute for money, and the wealth of an individual
is estimated by the 'pook' cash he possesses."
Soon after leaving the Mohave Indians, Mr. Young's party, proceeding
westward, arrived at the Mission of San Gabriel. This is one of these
extensive establishments formed by the Roman Catholic clergy in the
early times of California, which form so striking a feature in the
country. This Mission of San Gabriel, about the time of Carson's visit,
was in a flourishing condition. By statistical accounts, in 1829, it had
70,000 head of cattle, 1,200 horses, 3,000 mares, 400 mules, 120 yoke of
working cattle, and 254,000 sheep. From the vineyards of the mission
were made 600 barrels of wine, the sale of which produced an income of
upwards of $12,000. There were between twenty and thirty such missions
in California at that time, of which San Gabriel was by no means the
largest. They had all been founded since 1769, when the first, San
Diego, was established. The labor in these establishments was performed
by Indian converts, who received in return a bare support, and a very
small modicum of what was called religious instruction. Each mission had
its Catholic priests, a few Spanish or Mexican soldiers, and hundreds,
sometimes thousands of Indians.
The following interesting account of those of Upper California, we
transcribe from a recent work of high authority.[B]
"The missions of Upper California were indebted for their beginning and
chief success to the subscriptions which, as in the case of the
missionary settlements of the lower province, were largely bestowed by
the pious to promote so grand a work as turning a great country to the
worship of the true God. Such subscriptions continued for a long period,
both in Old and New Spain, and were regularly remitted to the City of
Mexico, where they were formed into what was called '_The Pious Fund of
California_.' This fund was managed by the convent of San Fernando and
other trustees in Mexico, and the proceeds, together with the annual
salaries allowed by the Crown to the missionaries, were transmitted to
California. Meanwhile, the Spanish court scarcely interfered with the
temporal government of the country. It was true that some of the
ordinary civil offices and establishments were kept up; but this was
only in name, and on too small a scale to be of any practical
importance. A commandante-general was appointed by the Crown to command
the garrisons of the presidios; but as these were originally established
solely to protect the missions from the dreaded violence of hostile
Indians, and to lend them, when necessary, the carnal arm of offence, he
was not allowed to interfere in the temporal rule of the Fathers. He
resided at Monterey, and his annual salary was four thousand dollars.
"In every sense of the word, then, these monks were practically the
sovereign rulers of California--passing laws affecting not only
property, but even life and death--declaring peace and war against their
Indian neighbors--regulating, receiving, and spending the finances at
discretion--and, in addition, drawing large annual subsidies not only
from the pious among the faithful over all Christendom, but even from
the Spanish monarchy itself, almost as a tribute to their being a
superior state. This surely was the golden age of the missions--a
contented, peaceful, believing people, abundant wealth for all their
wants, despotic will, and no responsibility but to their own
consciences and heaven! Their horn was filled to overflowing; but soon
an invisible and merciless hand seized it, and slowly and lingeringly,
as if in malicious sport, turned it over, and spilled the nectar of
their life upon the wastes of mankind, from whence it can never again be
collected. The golden age of another race has now dawned, and with it
the real prosperity of the country.
"The missions were originally formed on the same general plan, and they
were planted at such distances from each other as to allow abundant room
for subsequent development. They were either established on the
sea-coast, or a few miles inland. Twenty or thirty miles indeed seems
all the distance the missionaries had proceeded into the interior;
beyond which narrow belt the country was unexplored and unknown. Each
mission had a considerable piece of the best land in the neighborhood
set aside for its agricultural and pastoral purposes, which was commonly
about fifteen miles square. But besides this selected territory, there
was generally much more vacant land lying between the boundaries of the
missions, and which, as the increase of their stocks required more space
for grazing, was gradually occupied by the flocks and herds of the
Fathers, nearest to whose mission lay the previously unoccupied
district. Over these bounds the Fathers conducted all the operations of
a gigantic farm. Their cattle generally numbered from ten thousand to
twenty thousand and their sheep were nearly as numerous--though some
missions had upwards of thrice these numbers--which fed over perhaps a
hundred thousand acres of fertile land.
"Near the centre of such farms were placed the mission buildings. These
consisted of the church--which was either built of stone, if that
material could be procured in the vicinity, or of _adobes_, which are
bricks dried in the sun; and was as substantial, large, and richly
decorated an erection as the means of the mission would permit, or the
skill and strength of their servants could construct. In the interior,
pictures and hangings decorated the walls; while the altars were
ornamented with marble pillars of various colors, and upon and near them
stood various articles of massy gold and silver plate. A profusion of
gilding and tawdry sparkling objects caught and pleased the eye of the
simple congregations. Around, or beside the church, and often in the
form of a square, were grouped the habitations of the Fathers and their
household servants, and the various granaries and workshops of the
people; while, at the distance of one or two hundred yards, stood the
huts of the Indians. The former buildings were constructed of _adobes_,
and covered with brick tiles, frail and miserable materials at the best.
The huts of the Indians were occasionally made of the same materials,
but more commonly were formed only of a few rough poles, stuck in the
ground, with the points bending towards the centre like a cone, and were
covered with reeds and grass. An _adobe_ wall of considerable height
sometimes inclosed the whole village. The direction of the affairs of
the settlement was in the hands of one of the Fathers, originally called
a president, but afterwards a _prefect_; and each prefect was
independent in his own mission, and practically supreme in all its
temporal, and nearly in all its spiritual matters, to any human
authority.
"Thus the Fathers might be considered to have lived something in the
style of the patriarchs of the days of Job and Abraham. They indeed were
generally ignorant and unlettered men, knowing little more than the
mechanical rites of their church, and what else their manuals of
devotion and the treasuries of the lives of the saints taught them; but
they seem to have been personally devout, self-denying, and beneficent
in their own simple way. They thought they did God service, and perhaps
much more the Indians themselves, in catching, taming, and converting
them to Christianity. That was their vocation in the world, and they
faithfully obeyed its calls of duty. Towards the converts and actually
domesticated servants, they always showed such an affectionate kindness
as a father pays to the youngest and most helpless of his family. The
herds and flocks of the Fathers roamed undisturbed over numberless hills
and valleys. Their servants or slaves were true born children of the
house, who laboured lightly and pleasantly, and had no sense of freedom
nor desire for change. A rude but bounteous hospitality marked the
master's reception of the solitary wayfarer, as he traveled from mission
to mission, perhaps bearing some scanty news from the outer world, all
the more welcome that the Fathers knew little of the subject, and could
not be affected by the events and dangers of distant societies. All
these things have now passed away. The churches have fallen into decay,
deserted by the old worshipers, and poverty-stricken; the _adobe_
houses of the Fathers are in ruins--and there is scarcely any trace
left of the slightly erected huts of the Indians, who themselves have
deserted their old hearths and altars, and are silently, though rapidly,
disappearing from the land. But the memory of the patriarchal times, for
they were only as yesterday, still remains fresh in the minds of the
early white settlers."
Mr. Young's party did not remain long to enjoy the sumptuous fare at the
Mission of San Gabriel; but pushed on to that of San Fernando, and
thence to the river and fertile valley of Sacramento. In this
neighborhood they trapped for beaver, and Carson displayed his activity
and skill as a hunter of deer, elk, and antelope.
CHAPTER IV
Only familiarity with one of like character, by actually seeing it, can
give a just idea of the country through which they were traveling.
Livingston's descriptions of localities in Central Africa might be
transferred to our pages _verbatim_, to give a word-painting of the
desiccated deserts of what is now New Mexico and Arizona. Carson's
curiosity, as well as care to preserve the knowledge for future use, led
him to note in memory, every feature of the wild landscape, its mountain
chains, its desert prairies, with only clumps of the poor artemisia for
vegetation, its rivers, and the oases upon their banks, where there were
bottom-lands--nor were beaver found elsewhere--with its river beds whose
streams had found a passage beneath the surface of the earth, and each
other general feature that would attract the eye of the natural, rather
than the scientific observer.
In our day, the note book of the pioneer furnishing the data, the
traveler carries a guide-book to direct his course from point to point,
upon a well trodden road, to those places where grass and water will
furnish refreshment for his animals, while he regales himself, not upon
the spare-rib of a starved mule, killed because it could go no longer,
but upon a variety of good things from the well stocked larder of the
pouches of the saddle-bags his pack mule carries, or the provision box
of his wagon. Or, instead of the meat-diet of the trapper, when he has
been in luck in a fertile locality, the traveler--not trapper--of
to-day, perhaps has shot a prairie chicken, and prepares his dinner by
making a stew of it, which he consumes with hard bread he has purchased
at a station not ten miles away.
Familiarity with the features of the country does not restore the
experience of the pioneer of these wilds. The Indian, now, is advised by
authority he seldom dares defy, to keep off the roads of the emigrants;
and seldom does a party leave the road for any great distance; nor are
these roads infrequent, but the country is intersected with them, and
the guide-books protect against mistake in taking the wrong direction.
The test of character, however, with the trappers, was their ability to
endure hardships when they had to be encountered; and to guard against
them, when they could be avoided, by a wise foresight in taking
advantage of every favor of fortune, and turning each freak or whim of
the wily dame to best account.
Carson was delighted with California from the first, and realizing
intense satisfaction in his position, yet a youth, on terms of easy
familiarity with the other seventeen old trappers, especially selected
for this expedition, circumstances conspired to call into play all the
activities of his nature, and nothing intruded to prevent his resigning
himself to the impulses of the time, and making the most of every
occasion that offered.
He had the confidence of Capt. Young and of all his men, who permitted
him to do precisely as he chose, for they found him not only intending
always to do what was best, but possessed of foresight to know always
"just the things that ought to be done," almost without effort, as it
seemed to them.
After leaving the Mission of San Fernando, Young's party trapped upon
the San Joaquim, but they found that another party of trappers had been
there before them, employed by the Hudson Bay Company, in Oregon. There
was however, room for them both, and they trapped near each other for
weeks. The friendly intercourse kept up between the two parties, was not
only one of pleasant interchange of social kindness, but in one sense
was essentially useful to Kit, who lost no opportunity of improving
himself in the profession (for in those days trapping was a profession)
which he had embraced, and he had the benefit of the experience by way
of example, not only of his own companions, but of those who were
connected with the greatest and most influential company then in
existence on this Continent. It is hardly necessary to say that he lost
no opportunity of acquiring information, and it is quite probable that
he would, if called on, allow that the experience acquired on this
expedition was among the most valuable of any which he had previously
gained.
When Mr. Young went to the Sacramento, he separated from the Hudson Bay
party. The beautiful Sacramento, as its waters glided toward the chain
of bays that take it to the ocean through the Bay of San Francisco out
at the Golden gate, had not the aspect of the eastern river's immediate
tributaries of the Missouri. Its waters then were clear as crystal, and
the salmon floated beneath, glistening in the sunlight, as the canoe
glided through them.
The very air of this valley is luxurious; and in speaking of it, we will
include the valley of the San Joaquim, for both these streams run
parallel with the coast, the Sacramento from the north, the San Joaquim
from the south, and both unite at the head of the chain of bays which
pour their waters into the Pacific.
The Sacramento drains nearly three hundred miles of latitude, and the
San Joaquim an hundred and fifty miles of the country bounded by the
Sierra Nevada (snow mountains) on the east, and the coast range on the
west, the whole forming a great basin, with the mountains depressed on
the north and south, but with no outlet except through the Golden gate.
CHAPTER V.
No climate could be more congenial to a full flow of animal spirits,
than this region, where, upon the vegetation of the rich black
soil--often twenty feet deep--game of the better class in great
abundance found support. Deer in no part of the world was ever more
plenty, and elk and antelope bounded through the old oak groves, as they
may have done in Eden.
Carson had many opportunities of exploring the country, which he gladly
embraced, and thus became familiar with many localities, the knowledge
of which was in after years of such essential service to him and others.
There were many large tribes of Indians scattered through this country,
in these and smaller valleys, beside those which the missions had
attached to them. We know not that any record has been kept of the names
of these tribes and their numbers; but since the white men intruded,
they have melted away as did earlier those east of the Mississippi.
These Indians were all of the variety called Diggers, but in better
condition than we see them, since the small remnants of large tribes
have adopted the vices of the white men, and learned improvidence, by
sometimes having plenty without much toil; so that they can say to-day,
"No deer, no acorn; white man come! poor Indian hungry," as the happiest
style of begging.
A brief description of the Tlamath or Digger Indians, and their mode of
living, may not now be out of place, and having been visited by Carson
in his earlier years, may not be uninteresting. We quote from the
language of one who has paid a recent visit to the tribe:
"There were a dozen wigwams for the nearly hundred that composed the
tribe, one of which was much larger than the rest, and in the centre of
the group, the temple, or "medicine lodge." As we entered, the bones of
game consumed, and other offal lay about; and to our inquiry why they
did not clear away and be more tidy, only a grunt was returned. The men
had gone fishing, said the Indian woman we addressed, so we saw but two
or three; but in one wigwam which we entered there were fourteen with
ourselves--the rest, besides the boy who went before to announce us,
were women and children.
"We ascended a mound of earth, as it seemed, about six feet high, and
through a circular hole, perhaps two feet and a half in diameter,
descended a perpendicular ladder about ten feet. This opening, through
which we entered, performed the double office of door and window to the
space below, which was circular, about fourteen feet across, with
arrangements for sleeping, like berths in a steamboat, one over another,
on two sides, suspended by tying with bark a rough stick to upright
posts, which served to hold the sticks that sustained the roof. The
whole was substantially built, the covering being the earth which was
taken from the spot beneath, heaped upon a layer of rushes, the floor of
the wigwam being four feet below the surface of the ground. On the two
sides of the wigwam not occupied by the berths, were barrels filled with
fish--dried salmon, seeds, acorns, and roots.
"On hooks from the rush lined ceiling hung bags and baskets, containing
such luxuries as dried grasshoppers and berries. About the berths hung
deer skins and some skins of other game, seemingly prepared for wear.
There was no appearance of other dress, yet in the berths sat three
women, braiding strips of deer skin, and attaching the braids to a
string, in the form of long fringe. Each of the women wore an apron of
this kind about the waist, and only the dress of nature beside. The
children were dressed '_in puris naturalibus_.'
"After stopping ten minutes, we were glad to ascend to the open air, for
a sickness came over us from which we did not recover for several hours.
How human beings live in such an atmosphere we cannot tell, but this is
the way they habitate.
"When the grasshoppers were abundant, for this insect is one of the
luxuries of the Diggers, they scoured the valley, gathering them in
immense quantities. This is done by first digging holes or pits in the
ground at the spot chosen. Then the whole party of Indians, each with
the leafy branch of a tree, form a circle about it and drive in the
grasshoppers till they heap them upon each other in the pits: water is
then poured in to drown them. Their booty gathered, they proceed to
another place and perform the same operation. These insects are prepared
for food by kindling a fire in one of these pits, and when it is heated,
filling it with them and covering it with a heated stone, where they
are left to bake. They are now ready for use at any time, and eaten with
gusto, or they are powdered, and mixed with the acorn meal in a kind of
bread, which is baked in the ashes."
To return to the camp of trappers, and witness one day's duties, may be
gratifying to the reader. With early dawn the traps are visited, and the
beaver secured. The traps are re-adjusted, and the game brought into
camp--or left to be skinned where it is if the camp is far away.
Meantime breakfast has been prepared by one of the party; others have
looked after the animals, relieving the watch which is still kept up
lest a stampede occur while all are sleeping. Carson could not be cook
for the party constantly, but takes his turn with the rest, and by the
nice browning of his steak, and the delicacy of his acorn coffee, and
the addition to their meal of roasted kamas root, he proves the value of
the apprenticeship of his earlier years. He has a dish of berries, too,
and surprises the party with this tempting dessert, as well as with the
information that in his rambles the day before he had dined with an old
Californian, with his wife and daughters, and had the promise from them
of a cow, if he would call for it on the morrow.
Breakfast over, and the remains put by for lunch at noon, Carson mounts
his pony, and riding a few miles down the bank swims the river, and
dashing out among the hills with a high round mountain peak in view,
still miles away, is lost among the oak groves for a score of miles, and
at length emerges on Susan bay, and doffs his hat and makes his bow to
the young Señorita who greets him at the door with a smile of welcome.
The sun is low; dinner waits--hot bread, and butter, and cheese, and
coffee with sugar, are added to the venison and beef, and Irish and
sweet potatoes. Amid the civilities and pleasant chat, the hour passes
happily, and Carson proposes returning to his party.
The ladies will not allow him to depart. Will he not accept the
hospitality of their mansion for a single night? They do not urge after
one refusal, because his every feature indicates the decision of his
character. He must go. His horse is brought--a young and beautiful
animal--and the cow, this object of his second journey thither, given
him in charge as he mounts, with a rope attached to her horns, by which
to lead her. The full moon is rising, on which he had calculated, as he
told his hostesses, and with words of pleasant compliment, with which
the Spanish language so much more than ours abounds, and a _Buenos
noches, señor_, from his entertainers, and _Buenos noches, señoritas_,
in return, he slowly winds his silent way on and on through the oak
groves and the wild oats covering the hill-sides, hearing only the song
of the owl and the whippoorwill, the music of the insects, and the
whispering leaves, but with ear ever open to detect the stealthy tread
of the monster of the wood and hills--the grizzly bear. Off on the
distant hill he sees one, with a cub following her; but game is plenty,
and deer is good enough food for her. On, on he goes at slow pace, for
he has a delicate charge, and already is she restive from very
weariness, though his pace is slow.
Half his journey is completed as the gray of dawn and the twinkle of the
star of morning relieves the tedium and anxiety of his loneliness. He
has made the circuit of the bay. The river is before him as he descends
the hill which he has ascended for observation. Morning broadens. The
flowers glow with variegated beauty as he tramples them, and in some
patches the odor of the crushed dewy beauties fills the air to satiety.
A few miles more of travel and he crosses the river, and is again in the
river-bottom where the party have taken the beaver. He stops at an
Indian village, and dines from the liberal haunch and the acorn bread
the chief presents, and with good feelings displayed on either side,
takes in his arms a young papoose, the digger's picaninny, and salutes
it with a kiss. Kit leaves there a trifling, but to them, valuable
memorial of his visit, mounts his sorrel which is restive under the slow
gait to which he has restrained him, takes the rope again which secures
his treasure, the cow, and plods towards home at evening. The camp fire
smokes in the distance, while the few horses that remain are staked
about, and the sentinel paces up and down to keep off the drowsiness
induced by fatigue and a hearty meat supper. The eastern and the western
horizon are lighted with pale silver by the departing god of day, and
the approaching goddess of the night, and the still river divides the
plain, bounded only by the horizon, except he look behind him. Such is
the scene as, approaching, the sentinel raises his gun and gives the
challenge to halt. But the rest of the camp are not yet sleeping, and a
dozen voices shout in the still evening a glad welcome to Carson, for
whom they were not concerned, for they well knew there was not one of
the party so well able to take care of himself as he.
CHAPTER VI.
Peters, in his "Life of Carson," tells the story of two expeditions
which Carson led against the Indians, while they trapped upon the
Sacramento, which give proof of his courage, and thorough education in
the art of Indian warfare, which had become a necessity to the
_voyageur_ on the plains, and in the mountains of the western wilds.
With his quick discrimination of character, and familiarity with the
habits of the race, he could not but know the diggers were less bold
than the Apaches and Camanches, with whom he was before familiar.
The Indians at the Mission San Gabriel, were restive under coerced
labor, and forty of them made their escape to a tribe not far away.
The mission demanded the return of these fugitives, and being refused,
gave battle to the neighboring tribe, but were defeated. The Padre sent
to the trappers for assistance to compel the Indians not to harbor their
people. Carson and eleven of his companions volunteered to aid the
mission, and the attack upon the Indian village resulted in the
destruction of a third of its inhabitants, and compelled them to
submission. Capt. Young found at this mission a trader to take his furs,
and from them purchased a drove of horses. Directly after his return, a
party of Indians contrived to drive away sixty horses from the trappers,
while the sentinel slept at night. Carson with twelve men were sent in
pursuit. It was not difficult to follow the fresh trail of so large a
drove, yet he pursued them a hundred miles, and into the mountains,
before coming up with them. The Indians supposed themselves too far away
to be followed, and were feasting on the flesh of the stolen horses they
had slaughtered. Carson's party arranged themselves silently and without
being seen, and rushing upon the Indian camp, killed eight men, and
scattered the remainder in every direction. The horses were recovered,
except the six killed, and partly consumed, and with three Indian
children left in camp, they returned to the joyful greetings of their
friends.
Early in the autumn of 1829, Mr. Young and his party of trappers set out
on their return home. On their route they visited Los Angelos, formerly
called Pueblo de los Angelos, "the city of the angels," a name which it
received on account of the exceedingly genial climate, and the beauty of
the surrounding country. It is situated on a small river of the same
name, 30 miles from its mouth, and on the road between the cities of San
Jose and San Diego. It is about three hundred and fifty miles east of
San Francisco, and a hundred miles to the south.
Although to very many thousands of readers, anything on the subject of
the climate of California may seem superfluous, yet there are as many
thousands who have no really distinct idea of the country or the
climate, and we therefore quote from Rev. Dr. Bushnell, whose article on
those topics in the "New Englander," in 1858, attracted justly such
universal attention:
"The first and most difficult thing to apprehend respecting California
is the climate, upon which, of course, depend the advantages of health
and physical development, the growths and their conditions and kinds,
and the _modus operandi_, or general cast, of the seasons. But this,
again, is scarcely possible, without dismissing, first of all, the word
_climate_, and substituting the plural, climates. For it cannot be said
of California, as of New England, or the Middle States, that it has a
climate. On the contrary, it has a great multitude, curiously pitched
together, at short distances, one from another, defying too, not seldom,
our most accepted notions of the effects of latitude and altitude and
the defences of mountain ranges. The only way, therefore, is to dismiss
generalities, cease to look for a climate, and find, if we can, by what
process the combinations and varieties are made; for when we get hold of
the manner and going on of causes, all the varieties are easily
reducible.
"To make this matter intelligible, conceive that Middle California, the
region of which we now speak, lying between the head waters of the two
great rivers, and about four hundred and fifty or five hundred miles
long from north to south, is divided lengthwise, parallel to the coast,
into three strips, or ribands of about equal width. First, the
coast-wise region, comprising two, three, and sometimes four parallel
tiers of mountains from five hundred to four thousand, five thousand, or
even ten thousand feet high. Next, advancing inward, we have a middle
strip, from fifty to seventy miles wide, of almost dead plain, which is
called the great valley; down the scarcely perceptible slopes of which,
from north to south, and south to north, run the two great rivers, the
Sacramento and the San Joaquim, to join their waters at the middle of
the basin and pass off to the sea. The third long strip, or riband, is
the slope of the Sierra Nevada chain, which bounds the great valley on
the east, and contains in its foot-hills, or rather in its lower half,
all the gold mines. The upper half is, to a great extent, bare granite
rock, and is crowned at the summit, with snow, about eight months of the
year.
"Now the climate of these parallel strips will be different almost of
course, and subordinate, local differences, quite as remarkable, will
result from subordinate features in the local configurations,
particularly of the seaward strip or portion. For all the varieties of
climate, distinct as they become, are made by variations wrought in the
rates of motion, the courses, the temperature, and the dryness of a
single wind; viz., the trade wind of the summer months, which blows
directly inward all the time, only with much greater power during that
part of the day when the rarefaction of the great central valley comes
to its aid; that is, from about ten o'clock in the morning, to the
setting of the sun. Conceive such a wind, chilled by the cold waters
that have come down from the Northern Pacific, perhaps from Behring's
Straits, combing the tops and wheeling round through the valleys of the
coastwise mountains, crossing the great valley at a much retarded rate,
and growing hot and dry, fanning gently the foot-hills and sides of the
Sierra, still more retarded by the piling necessary to break over into
Utah, and the conditions of the California climate, or climates, will be
understood with general accuracy. Greater simplicity in the matter of
climate is impossible, and greater variety is hardly to be imagined.
"For the whole dry season, viz., from May to November, this wind is in
regular blast, day by day, only sometimes approaching a little more
nearly to a tempest than at others. It never brings a drop of rain,
however thick and rain-like the clouds it sometimes drives before it.
The cloud element, indeed, is always in it. Sometimes it is floated
above, in the manner commonly designated by the term _cloud_. Sometimes,
as in the early morning, when the wind is most quiet, it may be seen as
a kind of fog bank resting on the sea-wall mountains or rolling down
landward through the interstices of their summits. When the wind begins
to hurry and take on less composedly, the fog becomes blown fog, a kind
of lead dust driven through the air, reducing it from a transparent to a
semi-transparent or merely translucent state, so that if any one looks
up the bay, from a point twenty or thirty miles south of San Francisco,
in the afternoon, he will commonly see, directly abreast of the Golden
Gate where this wind drives in with its greatest power, a pencil of the
lead dust shooting upwards at an angle of thirty or forty degrees,
(which is the aim of the wind preparing to leap the second chain of
mountains, the other side of the bay,) and finally tapering off and
vanishing, at a mid-air point eight or ten miles inland, where the
increased heat of the atmosphere has taken up the moisture, and restored
its complete transparency. This wind is so cold, that one who will sit
upon the deck of the afternoon steamer passing up the bay, will even
require his heaviest winter clothing. And so rough are the waters of the
bay, landlocked and narrow as it is, that sea-sickness is a kind of
regular experience, with such as are candidates for that kind of
felicity.
"We return now to the middle strip of the great valley where the engine,
or rather boiler power, that operates the coast wind in a great part of
its velocity, is located. Here the heat, reverberated as in a forge, or
oven (whence _Cali--fornia_) becomes, even in the early spring, so much
raised that the ground is no longer able, by any remaining cold there is
in it, to condense the clouds, and rain ceases. A little further on in
the season, there is not cooling influence enough left to allow even the
phenomena of cloud, and for weeks together, not a cloud will be seen,
unless, by chance, the skirt of one may just appear now and then,
hanging over the summit of the western mountains. The sun rises, fixing
his hot stare on the world, and stares through the day. Then he returns
as in an orrery, and stares through another, in exactly the same way.
The thermometer will go up, not seldom, to 100° or even 110°, and
judging by what we know of effects here in New England, we should
suppose that life would scarcely be supportable. And yet there is much
less suffering from heat in this valley than with us, for the reason
probably that the nights are uniformly cool. The thermometer goes down
regularly with the sun, and one or two blankets are wanted for the
comfort of the night. This cooling of the night is probably determined
by the fact that the cool sea wind, sweeping through the upper air of
the valley, from the coast mountains on one side, over the mountains
and mountain passes of the Sierra on the other, is not able to get down
to the ground of the valley during the day, because of the powerfully
steaming column of heat that rises from it; but as soon as the sun goes
down, it drops immediately to the level of the plain, bathing it for the
night with a kind of perpendicular sea breeze, that has lost for the
time a great part of its lateral motion. The consequence is that no one
is greatly debilitated by the heat. On the contrary, it is the general
testimony, that a man can do as much of mental or bodily labor in this
climate, as in any other. And it is a good confirmation of this opinion,
that horses will here maintain a wonderful energy, traveling greater
distances, complaining far less of heat, and sustaining their spirit a
great deal better than with us. It is also to be noted that there is no
special tendency to fevers in this hot region, except in what is called
the _tule_ bottom, a kind of giant bulrush region, along the most
depressed and marshiest portions of the rivers.
"Passing now to the eastern strip or portion, the slope of the Nevada,
the heat, except in those deep cañons where the reverberation makes it
sometimes even insupportable, is qualified in degree, according to the
altitude. A gentle west wind, warmer in the lower parts or foothills by
the heat of the valley, fans it all day. At points which are higher, the
wind is cooler; but here also, on the slope of the Nevada, the nights
are always cool in summer, so cool that the late and early frosts leave
too short a space for the ordinary summer crop to mature, even where the
altitude is not more than 3,000 or 4,000 feet. Meantime, at the top of
the Sierra, where the west wind, piling up from below, breaks over into
Utah, travelers undertake to say that in some of the passes it blows
with such stress as even to polish the rocks, by the gravel and sand
which it drives before it. The day is cloudless on the slope of the
Sierra, as in the valley; but on the top there is now and then, or once
in a year or two, a moderate thunder shower. With this exception, as
referring to a part uninhabitable, thunder is scarcely ever heard in
California. The principal thunders of California are underground.
"We return now to the coast-wise mountain region, where the multiplicity
and confusion of climates is most remarkable. Their variety we shall
find depends on the courses of the wind currents, turned hither and
thither by the mountains; partly also on the side any given place
occupies of its valley or mountain; and partly on the proximity of the
sea. Sprinkled in among these mountains, and more or less inclosed by
them, are valleys, large and small, of the highest beauty. But a valley
in California means something more than a scoop, or depression. It means
a rich land-lake, leveled between the mountains, with a sharply defined,
picturesque shore, where it meets the sides and runs into the
indentations of the mountains. What is called the Bay of San Francisco,
is a large salt water lake in the middle of a much larger land-lake,
sometimes called the San Jose valley. It extends south of the city forty
miles, and northward among islands and mountains, about twenty-five
more, if we include what is called San Pueblo Bay. Three beautiful
valleys of agricultural country, the Petaluma, Sonora, and Napa valleys,
open into this larger valley of the bay, on the north end of it, between
four mountain barriers, having each a short navigable creek or inlet.
Still farther north is the Russian River valley, opening towards the
sea, and the Clear Lake valley and region, which is the Switzerland of
California. East of the San Jose valley, too, at the foot of Diabola,
and up among the mountains, are the large Amador and San Ramon valleys,
also the little gem of the Suñole. Now these valleys, which, if we
except the great valley of the two rivers, comprise the plow-land of
Middle California, have each a climate of its own, and productions that
correspond. We have only to observe further, that the east side of any
valley will commonly be much warmer than the west; for the very
paradoxical reason that the cold coast-wind always blows much harder on
the side or steep slope even, of a mountain, opposite or away from the
wind, than it does on the side towards it, reversing all our notions of
the sheltering effects of mountain ridges."
CHAPTER VII.
During this brief tarry at Los Angelos, Carson had not been idle, but
entirely without thought that his confidence could be deemed
presumption, arranging his dress with as much care as its character
permitted, early in the morning he mounted his horse--always in
excellent trim--and rode to the residence of the man he had been
informed owned the best _ranche_ in the vicinity, and dismounting at the
wicket gate, entered the yard, which was fenced with a finely arranged
growth of club cactus; and passing up the gravel walk several rods,
between an avenue of fig trees, with an occasional patch of green
shrubs, and a few flowers, he stood at the door of the spacious old
Spanish mansion, which was built of _adobe_ one story in height and
nearly a hundred feet in length, its roof covered with asphaltum mingled
with sand--like all the houses in Los Angelos, a spring of this material
existing a little way from the town. After waiting a few moments for an
answer to his summons, made with the huge brass knocker, an Indian
servant made his appearance, and ushered him to an elegantly furnished
room, with several guitars lying about as if recently in use. The lordly
owner of the ranche soon appeared in morning gown and slippers, the
picture of a well to do old time gentleman, with an air evincing an
acquaintance with the world of letters and of art, such as only travel
can produce.
He asked the name of his stranger guest, as Carson approaching addressed
him, and at once commenced a conversation in English, saying with a look
of satisfied pleasure, "I address you in your native tongue, which I
presume is agreeable, though you speak very good Spanish;" to which
Carson, much more surprised to hear his native language so fluently
spoken, than his host was to be addressed in Spanish, replied,
"It is certainly agreeable to find you can give me the information
which, as an American, I seek, in the language my mother taught me," and
at once they were on terms of easy familiarity.
As it was early morning, his host asked Carson to take a cup of coffee
with him, and conducting him to the breakfast room, presented him to
the family--a wife and several grown sons and daughters.
Carson enjoyed the social part of this treat, more than the tempting
viands with which the board was loaded. Though Spanish was the language
most used by the family, all spoke English, and a young man from
Massachusetts was with them as a tutor to some of the younger children.
Breakfast over, the host invited him to visit the vineyard, which he
said was hardly in condition to be exhibited, as the picking had
commenced two weeks before. He said his yard, of a thousand varas,
yielded him more grapes than he could manage to dispose of, though last
year he had made several butts of wine, and dried five thousand pounds
of raisins. The vines were in the form of little trees, so closely had
they been trimmed, and were still loaded with the purple clusters.
Tasting them, Carson justly remarked that he had never eaten so good a
grape.
"No," said his host, "I think not; neither have I, though I have
traveled through Europe. The valley of the Rhine, nor of the Tagus,
produces anywhere a grape like ours. I think that the Los Angelos grape
is fit food indeed for angels--is quite equal to the grapes of
Eshcol--you remember the heavy clusters that were found there, so that
two men carried one between them on a pole resting upon their shoulders.
See that now," and he drew Carson to a vine whose trunk was six inches
through, and yet it needed a prop to sustain the weight of the two
clusters of grapes it bore.
A species of the cactus, called the prickly pear, enclosed the vineyard,
and this really bore pears, or a fruit of light orange color, in the
form of a pear, but covered with a down of prickles. The Indian boy
brought a towel, and wiping the fruit until it shone, gave to Carson to
taste. It was sweetish, juicy, and rich, but with less of flavor than a
pear. Beyond the vineyard were groves of fig and orange trees. The figs
were hardly ripe, being the third crop of the season, while the oranges
were nearly fit for picking. The host said that his oranges were better
than usual this season, but he did not know what he should do with them.
He was in the habit of shipping them to Santa Barbara and Monterey, and
thence taking some to San Jose; but latterly oranges had been brought to
Monterey from the Sandwich islands by ships in the service of the Hudson
Bay Company, returning from the China trade to the mouth of the
Columbia, which, arriving before his were ripe, he found the fruit
market forestalled.
"This is the finest country the sun shines upon," said he, "and we can
live luxuriously upon just what will grow on our own farms; but we
cannot get rich. Our cattle will only bring the value of the hides; our
horses are of little value, for there are plenty running wild which good
huntsmen can take with the lasso; and, as for fruit, from which I had
hoped to realize something, the market is cut off by Yankee competition.
I think we shall have the Americans with us before many years, and for
my part I hope we shall. The idea of Californians generally, as well as
of other Mexicans, that they are too shrewd for them, is true enough;
but certainly there is plenty of room for a large population, and I
should prefer that the race that has most enterprise, should come and
cultivate the country with us."
Carson's youth commanded him to listen, rather than to advance his own
sentiments; but he expressed his pleasure at hearing his host compliment
the Americans, and said in reply, "I have not been an extensive
traveler, and have chosen the life of a mountaineer, for a time
certainly; but since I came to California, I am half inclined to decide
to make this my home when I get tired of trapping. I like the hunt, and
have found game exceedingly plenty here, but there is no buffalo, and I
want that. Give me buffalo, and I would settle in California."
He described to his host a buffalo hunt in which he engaged with the
Sioux Indians, before he left his father's home, at fifteen years of
age, and another later, since he came into the mountains. He had hunted
buffalo every year since he was twelve years old.
The Don was charmed with the earnestness and the frankness, and manifest
integrity of the youth, and turning his glance upon him, with the
slightly quizzical expression the face a Spaniard so readily assumes, he
inquired how many buffalo he had ever killed.
"Not so many as I have deer, because I was always in a deer country; but
in the eight years since I commenced going in the buffalo ranges, I must
have killed five hundred. The hunter does not kill without he wishes to
use. I was often permitted to take a shot at the animals before I was
able to help in dressing them."
But Carson felt it might seem like boasting, for him to tell his own
exploits, and changing the theme, remarked,
"Your horses would make excellent buffalo hunters, with the proper
training, and I have some at camp that I intend shall see buffalo. But
why do you not deal gently with them when they are first caught, and
keep the fire they have in the herd? Pardon me, but I think in taming
your horses, you break their spirits."
"My tutor has said the same, and I too have thought so in regard to the
Mexican style of training our horses. We mount one just caught from the
drove, and ride him till he becomes gentle from exhaustion. The French
do not train horses in that way, nor the English; I have not been in the
United States. Our custom is brought from Spain; and it answers well
enough with us, where our horses go in droves, and when one is used up,
we turn him out and take up another; but when we take this animal again,
he is just as wild as at the first; we cannot afford to spend time on
breaking him when it must be done over again directly."
And so the two hours, which Carson had allotted for his visit, passed in
easy chat, and when he took his leave, his host expressed his thanks
for his visit, and promised to return it at the camp.
Carson did not again see his courteous host, for early on the following
morning, Mr. Young found it necessary that he should get his men away
from Los Angelos as speedily as possible. They had been indulging to
excess in bad liquors, and having none of the best feelings towards the
Mexicans, many quarrels, some ending in bloodshed, had ensued.
He therefore despatched Carson ahead with a few men, promising to follow
and overtake him at the earliest moment, and waiting another day, he
managed to get his followers in a tolerably sober condition, and
succeeded, though not without much trouble, in getting away without the
loss of a man, though the Mexicans were desperately enraged at the death
of one of their townsmen, who had been killed in a chance fray. In three
days he overtook Carson, and the party, once more reunited, advanced
rapidly towards the Colorado River, his men working with a heartiness
and cheerfulness, resulting from a consciousness of their misconduct at
Los Angelos, which, but for the prudent discretion of Young and Carson,
might have resulted disastrously to all concerned.
In nine days they were ready to commence trapping on the Colorado, and
in a short time added here to the large stock of furs they had brought
from California.
Here while left in charge of the camp, with only a few men, Carson found
himself suddenly confronted by several hundred Indians. They entered the
camp with the utmost assurance, and acted as though they felt the power
of their numbers. Carson at once suspected that all was not right, and
attempting to talk with them, he soon discovered that, with all their
_sang froid_, each of them carried his weapons concealed beneath his
garments, and immediately ordered them out of camp. Seeing the small
number of the white men, the Indians were not inclined to obey, but
chose to wait their time and do as they pleased, as they were accustomed
to do with the Mexicans. They soon learned that they were dealing with
men of different mettle, for Carson was a man not to be trifled with.
[Illustration: CARSON GOES AHEAD WITH THE PARTY.]
His men stood around him, each with his rifle resting in the hollow of
the arm, ready to be dropped to deadly aim on the sign from their young
commander. Carson addressed the old chief in Spanish, (for he had
betrayed his knowledge of that language,) and warned him that though
they were few, they were determined to sell their lives dearly. The
Indians awed, it would seem, by the bold and defiant language of Carson,
and finding that any plunder they might acquire, would be purchased at a
heavy sacrifice, sullenly withdrew, and left the party to pursue their
journey unmolested.
Any appearance of fear would have cost the lives of Carson and probably
of the whole party, but the Indian warriors were too chary of their
lives to rush into death's door unprovoked, even for the sake of the
rich plunder they might hope to secure. Carson's cool bravery saved the
trappers and all their effects; and this first command in an Indian
engagement is but a picture of his conduct in a hundred others, when the
battles were with weapons other than the tongue. The intention of the
Indians had been to drive away the animals, first causing a stampede,
when they would become lawful plunder, but they dared not undertake it.
The wily craftiness of the Indians induced the necessity for constant
vigilance against them, and in the school this youth had been in all his
life, he had shown himself an apt scholar.
CHAPTER VIII.
While on the Colorado, Young's party discovered a company of Indians,
(with whom they had had a previous skirmish,) as they were coming out
from Los Angelos, and charging suddenly among them, succeeded in taking
a large herd of cattle from them in the Indians' own style. The same
week an Indian party came past their camp in the night, with a drove of
a hundred horses, evidently just stolen from a Mexican town in Sonora.
The trappers, with their guns for their pillows, were ready in an
instant for the onslaught, and captured these horses also, the Indians
hurrying away for fear of the deadly rifle. The next day they selected
such as they wanted from the herd, choosing of course the finest, and
turning the rest loose, to be taken again by the Indians, or to become
the wild mustangs that roamed the plains of Northern Mexico, in droves
of tens of thousands, and which could be captured and tamed only by the
use of the lasso.
Mr. Young and his party trapped down the Colorado and up the Gila with
success, then crossed to the vicinity of the New Mexican copper mines,
where they left their furs and went to Santa Fe. Having procured there
license to trade with the Indians about the copper mines, they returned
thither for their furs, went back to Santa Fe and disposed of them to
great advantage. The party disbanded with several hundred dollars
apiece, which most of them expended as sailors do their earnings when
they come into port. Of course Carson was hail fellow well met with them
for a time. He had not hitherto taken the lesson that all have to learn,
viz., that the ways of pleasure are deceitful paths; and to resist
temptation needs a large amount of courage--larger perhaps than to
encounter any physical danger; at least the moral courage it requires is
of a higher tone than the physical courage which would carry one through
a fight with a grizzly bear triumphantly; that the latter assists the
former; indeed that the highest moral courage must be aided by physical
bravery, but that the latter may exist entirely independently of the
former.
Carson learned during this season of hilarity the necessity of saying
No! and he did so persistently, knowing that if he failed in this he
would be lost to himself and to everything dear in life. He was now
twenty-one, and though the terrible ordeal of poverty had been nobly
borne, and he had conquered, the latter ordeal of temptation from the
sudden possession of what was to him a large sum of money, had proved
for once, too much. And it is well for him perhaps it was so; as it
enabled him to sow his wild oats in early youth.
It is not improbable that some of this party belonged to the class of
Canadians called _coureurs des bois_, whose habits Mr. Irving thus
describes in his Astoria:
"A new and anomalous class of men gradually grew out of this trade.
These were called _coureurs des bois_, rangers of the woods; originally
men who had accompanied the Indians in their hunting expeditions, and
made themselves acquainted with remote tracts and tribes; and who now
became, as it were, pedlers of the wilderness. These men would set out
from Montreal with canoes well stocked with goods, with arms and
ammunition, and would make their way up the mazy and wandering rivers
that interlace the vast forests of the Canadas, coasting the most remote
lakes, and creating new wants and habitudes among the natives.
Sometimes they sojourned for months among them, assimilating to their
tastes and habits with the happy facility of Frenchmen; adopting in some
degree the Indian dress, and not unfrequently taking to themselves
Indian wives.
"Twelve, fifteen, eighteen months would often elapse without any tidings
of them, when they would come sweeping their way down the Ottawa in full
glee, their canoes laden down with packs of beaver skins. Now came their
turn for revelry and extravagance. 'You would be amazed,' says an old
writer already quoted, 'if you saw how lewd these pedlers are when they
return; how they feast and game, and how prodigal they are, not only in
their clothes, but upon their sweethearts. Such of them as are married
have the wisdom to retire to their own houses; but the bachelors do just
as an East Indiaman and pirates are wont to do; for they lavish, eat,
drink, and play all away as long as the goods hold out; and when these
are gone, they even sell their embroidery, their lace, and their
clothes. This done, they are forced upon a new voyage for subsistence.'"
Many of these _coureurs des bois_ became so accustomed to the Indian
mode of living, and the perfect freedom of the wilderness, that they
lost all relish for civilization, and identified themselves with the
savages among whom they dwelt, or could only be distinguished from them
by superior licentiousness.
In the autumn Carson joined another trapping party under Mr.
Fitzpatrick, whom we shall have frequent occasion to mention hereafter.
They proceeded up the Platte and Sweet Water past Goose Creek to the
Salmon River, where they wintered, like other parties, sharing the good
will of the Nez Perces Indians, and having the vexations of the
Blackfeet for a constant fear. Mr. Fitzpatrick, less daring than Carson,
declined sending him to punish this tribe for their depredations.
In the spring they came to Bear river, which flows from the north to
Salt Lake. Carson and four men left Mr. Fitzpatrick here, and went ten
days to find Captain Gaunt in the place called the New Park, on the head
waters of the Arkansas, where they spent the trapping season, and
wintered. While the party were wintering in camp, being robbed of some
of their horses by a band of sixty Crow Indians, Carson, as usual, was
appointed to lead the party sent in pursuit of the plunderers. With only
twelve men he took up the trail, came upon the Indians in one of their
strongholds, cut loose the animals, which were tied within ten feet of
the fort of logs in which the enemy had taken shelter, attacked them,
killed five of their warriors, and made good his retreat with the
recovered horses; an Indian of another tribe who was with the trappers
bringing away a Crow scalp as a trophy.[C]
In the spring, while trapping on the Platte River, two men belonging to
the party deserted and robbed a _cache_, or underground deposit of furs,
which had been made by Captain Gaunt, in the neighborhood. Carson, with
only one companion, went off in pursuit of the thieves, who, however,
were never heard of afterwards.
Not finding the plunderers, Carson and his companion remained at the old
camp on the Arkansas, where the _cache_ had been made, until they were
relieved by a party sent out from the United States with supplies for
Captain Gaunt's trappers. They were soon after joined by a party of
Gaunt's men, and started to his camp. On their way they had repeated
encounters with Indians attempting to steal their horses, but easily
beat them off and saved their property.
On one occasion when Carson and the other trappers were out in search
of _beaver sign_, they came suddenly upon a band of sixty warriors well
armed and mounted. In the presence of such a force their only safety was
in flight. Amid a shower of bullets from the Indian rifles, they made
good their escape. Carson considered this one of his narrowest escapes.
CHAPTER IX.
In the spring of 1832, Mr. Gaunt's party had been unsuccessful, and were
now upon a stream where there was no beaver, therefore Carson announced
his intention of hunting on his own account. Two of his companions
joined him, and the three for the whole season pursued their work
successfully, high up in the mountain streams, while the Indians were
down in the plains hunting buffalo; and taking their fur to Taos,
disposed of them at a remunerative price. While the two former spent
their money in the usual way, Carson saved his hard earnings which his
companions were so recklessly throwing away. This self-discipline, and
schooling himself to virtue and temperance, was not without effort on
the part of Kit Carson, for he loved the good will and kindly civilities
of his companions; but he knew also that he could not have his cake and
eat it too, and chose to save his money and his strength for future use.
While remaining at Taos, Captain Lee, formerly of the United States
army, now a partner of Bent and St. Vrain, at Bent's Fort, invited
Carson to join an expedition which he was arranging. Carson accepted his
offer, starting in October. Going northward they came up with a party of
twenty traders and trappers, upon a branch of the Green River, and all
entered winter quarters here together.
Mr. Robideau had in his employ a Californian Indian, very skillful in
the chase--whether for game or for human prey--very courageous, and able
to endure the greatest hardships, and whose conduct hitherto had won the
confidence of all. This Indian had left clandestinely, taking with him
six of Mr. Robideau's most valuable horses, which were worth at least
twelve hundred dollars. Mr. Robideau, determined to recover them if
possible, solicited Carson to pursue and overtake the Indian. Kit asked
his employer, Mr. Lees', permission to serve Mr. Robideau, which was
readily granted, when he at once prepared himself for hard riding and
sturdy resistance.
From a Utah village near he obtained an intelligent and brave young
warrior to join him--for Carson's reputation for courage, skill, and
efficiency, were known to the tribes, and many of its braves were
attached to him, and afterwards proved that they cherished a lasting
friendship for him.
For a time the blindness of the trail compelled them to go slowly, but
once sure of its direction, they pursued it with the utmost speed, down
Green river, Carson concluding the Indian was directing his course
toward California. When they had gone a hundred miles on their way, the
Indian's horse was suddenly taken sick. The Indian would not consent to
continue the pursuit, as Carson suggested, on foot, and he therefore
determined to go on alone, and putting spurs to his horse revolved not
to return until he had succeeded in recovering Mr. Robideau's property.
With practiced eye ever upon the trail, he revolved in his mind the
expert skill he might need to exercise in encountering the wily savage.
This desperate expedition Carson had boldly entered into, not with
rashness, but he had accepted it as an occasion that demanded the
hazard. At the distance of thirty miles from where he left his Utah
companion, he discovered the object of his chase. The Indian too had
discovered him, and to prepare himself for the attack, turned to seek a
shelter whence he might fire and reload without exposure to the shot
from Carson's rifle--which he had unslung when first he discovered the
Indian.
With his horse at full speed, at the moment the Indian reached his
cover, Carson fired with aim so true that the Indian gave one bound and
fell dead beside his horse, while his gun went off at the same instant.
No further particulars of description or speculation can add to the
interest of this picture. We leave it to the imagination of the reader,
as an illustration of the daring and fidelity of Kit Carson. Collecting
the horses, he soon had the pleasure, after a few minor difficulties, of
presenting to Mr. Robideau, the six animals he had lost, in as good
condition as when they were stolen, and of announcing to him the fact
that there lived one less rogue.
Soon after Carson's return to camp, some trappers brought them news that
Messrs. Fitzpatrick and Bridger were camped fifteen miles from them.
Captain Lee and Carson at once concluded that to them they might sell
their goods. They started for their camp and were as successful as they
had hoped, for they sold their whole stock of goods to this party, and
took their pay in furs. Their contract being now completed, Carson
joined Mr. Fitzpatrick again in a trapping expedition, but did not
remain long with him, because the party was too large to make it pay, or
even to work harmoniously together. With three men whom he chose from
the many who wished to join him, Carson again commenced trapping on his
own account. They trapped all summer on the Laramie, with unusual
success. It was while Carson was out on this tramp that he had the
adventure with the grizzly bears,[D] which he considered the most
perilous that he ever passed through. He had gone out from the camp on
foot to shoot game for supper, and had just brought down an elk, when
two grizzly bears came suddenly upon him. His rifle being empty, there
was no way of escape from instant death but to run with his utmost speed
for the nearest tree. He reached a sapling with the bears just at his
heels. Cutting off a limb of the tree with his knife, he used that as
his only weapon of defence. When the bears climbed so as nearly to reach
him, he gave them smart raps on the nose, which sent them away growling;
but when the pain ceased they would return again only to have the raps
repeated. In this way nearly the whole night was spent, when finally
the bears became discouraged, and retired from the contest. Waiting
until they were well out of sight, Carson descended from his unenviable
position, and made the best of his way into camp, which he reached about
daylight. The elk had been devoured by wolves before it could be found,
and his three companions were only too glad to see him, to be troubled
about breakfasting on beaver, as they had supped the night before; for
trappers in camp engaged in their business had this resort for food when
all others failed.
Laramie river flows into the North Platte, upon the south side. The
country through which it flows is open, yet the stream is bordered with
a variety of shrubbery, and in many spots the cottonwood grows
luxuriantly, and for this reason, the locality is favorable for the
grizzly bear.
[Illustration: "WHEN THE BEARS CLIMBED SO NEAR AS TO REACH HIM, HE GAVE
THEM SMART RAPS ON THE NOSE."]
Baird says of this bear: "While the black bear is the bear of the
forest, the grizzly is the bear of the chapparal, the latter choosing an
open country, whether plain or mountain, whose surface is covered with
dense thickets of manzanita or shrub oak, which furnish him with his
favorite food, and clumps of service bushes, and low cherry; and whose
streams are lined with tangled thickets of low grape vine and wild
plumb." The grizzly is not so good at climbing as the black bear, and
can best manage by resting upon his haunches and mounting with his fore
arms upon the bushes that he cannot pull over, to gather the berries, of
which he is very fond.
"Only in a condition of hunger will he attack a man unprovoked, but when
he does, the energy with which he fights, prevents the Indians from
seeking the sport of a hunt for the grizzly bear. He is monarch of the
plain, with only their opposition, and has departed only before the
rifle of the white hunter. An Indian, who would, alone, undertake to
conquer a dozen braves of another tribe, would shrink from attacking a
grizzly bear; and to have killed one, furnishes a story for a life time,
and gives a reputation that descends to posterity. The mounted hunter
can rarely bring his horse to approach him near enough for a shot."
Soon after his encounter with the bears, Carson and his men were
rejoiced by the arrival of Capt. Bridger, so long a mountaineer of note,
and with him his whole band. Carson and his three companions joined with
them, and were safe; and now for the first time he attended the summer
rendezvous of trappers on the Green River, where they assembled for the
disposal of their furs, and the purchase of such outfit as they needed.
Carson for the Fall hunt joined a company of fifty, and went to the
country of the Blackfeet, at the head waters of the Missouri; but the
Indians were so numerous, and so determined upon hostility, that a white
man could not leave his camp without danger of being shot down;
therefore, quitting the Blackfeet country, they camped on the Big Snake
River for winter quarters.
During the winter months, the Blackfeet had in the night run off
eighteen of their horses, and Kit Carson, with eleven men, was sent to
recover them, and chastise their temerity. They rode fifty miles through
the snow before coming up with the Indians, and instantly made an
attempt to recover their animals, which were loose and quietly grazing.
The Indians, wearing snow shoes, had the advantage, and Carson readily
granted the parley they asked. One man from each party advanced, and
between the contending ranks had a talk. The Indians informed them that
they supposed they had been robbing the Snake Indians, and did not
desire to steal from white men. Of course this tale was false, and
Carson asked why they did not lay down their arms and ask for a smoke,
but to this they had no reply to make. However, both parties laid aside
their weapons and prepared for the smoke; and the lighted calumet was
puffed by every one of the savages and the whites alternately, and the
head men of the savages made several long non-committal speeches, to
which, in reply, the trappers came directly to the point, and said they
would hear nothing of conciliation from them until their property was
returned.
After much talk, the Indians brought in five of the poorest horses. The
whites at once started for their guns, which the Indians did at the same
time, and the fight at once commenced. Carson and a comrade named
Markland having seized their rifles first, were at the lead, and
selected for their mark two Indians who were near each other and behind
different trees; but as Kit was about to fire, he perceived Markland's
antagonist aiming at him with death-like precision, while Markland had
not noticed him, and on the instant, neglecting his own adversary, he
sent a bullet through the heart of the other savage, but at the moment
saw that his own enemy's rifle was aimed at his breast. He was not
quite quick enough to dodge the ball, and it struck the side of his
neck, and passed through his shoulder, shattering the bone.
Carson was thenceforward only a spectator of the fight, which continued
until night, when both parties retired from the field of battle and went
into camp.
Carson's wound was very painful, and bled freely, till the cold checked
the flow of blood. They dared not light a fire, and in the cold and
darkness, Carson uttered not a word of complaint, nor did even a groan
escape him. His companions were earnest in their sympathy, but he was
too brave to need it, or to allow his wound to influence the course they
should pursue. In a council of war which they held, it was decided that,
as they had slain several Indians, and had themselves only one wounded,
they had best return to camp, as they were in unfit condition to
continue the pursuit. Arriving at camp, another council was held, at
which it was decided to send thirty men under Capt. Bridger, to pursue
and chastise these Blackfeet thieves. This party followed the Indian
trail several days, but finally returned, concluding it was useless to
search further, as they had failed to overtake them.
CHAPTER X.
The Spring hunt opened on the Green river, and continuing there a while,
the party went to the Big Snake; and after trapping with extraordinary
success for a few weeks, returned to the Summer rendezvous, held again
upon the Green River. Meantime Carson had recovered from his wound.
An unusually large number of trappers and traders, with great numbers
from the neighboring Indian tribes, assembled at this rendezvous,
made up of Canadians, Frenchmen, Dutchmen, Spaniards, and many a
backwoodsman, who had lived upon the borders, perhaps, for three
generations, removing when a neighbor came within ten miles, because
_near_ neighbors were a nuisance to him. Let us see the parties as they
come in, the leader, or the one to whom fitness accords this position,
having selected the spot for the camp, so remote from every other, as to
have plenty of grass about it for the animals of the party. Perhaps a
tent is spread, at least, everything is put in proper order, according
to the notions and the tastes of the men who make up the party; for the
camp is the home of its members, and here they will receive visitors,
and exchange courtesies.
The party or parties that have made the special arrangements for the
rendezvous--traders with a full supply of goods--have spread a large
tent in a central spot of the general encampment, where the whole
company, save those detained at each camp in charge of the animals
belonging to it, will assemble, at certain hours each day, the time upon
which the sales are announced to take place, and the exchanges commence.
The several parties arriving first, have been obliged to wait until all
expected for the season have arrived, because there is a feeling of
honor as well as a care for competition, that compels the custom. The
traders take furs or money for their goods, which bring prices that seem
fabulous to those unaccustomed to the sight or stories of mountain life.
The charge, of course, is made upon the ground of the expense and risk
of bringing goods eight hundred and a thousand miles into the
wilderness, from the nearest points in western Missouri and St. Louis.
Irving opens his Astoria with the following: "Two leading objects of
commercial gain, have given birth to wide daring and enterprise in the
early history of the Americas; the precious metals of the South and the
rich peltries of the North." When he wrote this, it was true of the
localities he named--the gold was not yet an attraction, except in the
south, and only the British Fur Company in Canada had become an object
of history in this branch of trade. He says, "While the fiery and
magnificent Spaniard, influenced with the mania for gold, has extended
his discoveries and conquests over those brilliant countries, scorched
by the ardent sun of the tropics, the adroit Frenchman, and the cool and
calculating Briton, have pursued the less splendid, but no less
lucrative, traffic in furs, amidst the hyper-borean regions of the
Canadas, until they advanced even within the Artic Circle.
"These two pursuits have thus, in a manner, been the pioneers and
precursors of civilization. Without pausing on the borders, they have
penetrated at once, in defiance of difficulties and dangers, to the
heart of savage countries; laying open the hidden secrets of the
wilderness; leading the way to remote regions of beauty and fertility,
that might have remained unexplored for ages, and beckoning after them
the slow and pausing steps of agriculture and civilization. It was the
fur trade, in fact, that gave early sustenance and vitality to the great
Canadian provinces.
"Being destitute of the precious metals, they were for a long time
neglected by the parent country. The French adventurers, however, who
had settled on the banks of the St. Lawrence, soon found that in the
rich peltries of the interior, they had sources of wealth that might
almost rival the mines of Mexico and Peru." The Indians, as yet
unacquainted with the artificial value given to some descriptions of
furs, in civilized life, brought quantities of the most precious kinds
and bartered them away for European trinkets and cheap commodities.
Immense profits were thus made by the early traders, and the traffic was
pursued with avidity.
"As the valuable furs became scarce in the neighborhood of the
settlements, the Indians of the vicinity were stimulated to take a wider
range in their hunting expeditions; they were generally accompanied on
these expeditions by some of the traders or their dependants, who
shared in the toils and perils of the chase, and at the same time, made
themselves acquainted with the best hunting grounds, and with the remote
tribes whom they encouraged to bring peltries to the settlements. In
this way the trade augmented, and was drawn from remote quarters to
Montreal. Every now and then a large body of Ottawas, Hurons, and other
tribes who hunted the countries bordering on the great lakes, would come
down in a squadron of light canoes, laden with beaver skins and other
spoils of the year's hunting. The canoes would be unladen, taken on
shore, and their contents disposed in order. A camp of birch-bark would
be pitched outside of the town, and a kind of primitive fair opened with
that grave ceremonial so dear to the Indians.
"Now would ensue a brisk traffic with the merchants, and all Montreal
would be alive with naked Indians, running from shop to shop, bargaining
for arms, kettles, knives, axes, blankets, bright-colored cloths, and
other articles of use or fancy; upon all which, the merchants were sure
to clear two hundred per cent.
"Their wants and caprices being supplied, they would take leave, strike
their tents, launch their canoes, and ply their way up the Ottawa to
the lakes."
Later, the French traders, _couriers des bois_, penetrated the remote
forests, carrying such goods as the Indians required, and held
rendezvous among them, on a smaller scale, but similar to the one Carson
had attended, so far as the Indian trade was concerned. But the Yankee
element of character preponderated among the traders and trappers from
the States; besides the greater difficulty and expense necessarily
incurred to reach the hunting grounds by land than in canoe, called into
the work only men of energy and higher skill than the employees, mostly
French, in the service of the Hudson Bay Fur Company, and a score of
smaller parties, each owning no authority outside itself, adopted the
plan of these summer encampments, during the season when the fur of the
beaver and the otter was not good, as an arrangement for mutual
convenience; and the Indians of this more southern section availed
themselves of the occasion, for their own pleasure and profit, and to
the advantage and satisfaction of the traders, whose prices ruled high
in proportion to the difficulty of transit, as well as the monopoly in
their hands of the articles deemed necessary to the trapper's dress,
culinary establishment, and outfit. These consisted of a woolen shirt, a
sash or belt, and with some stockings, coffee, and black pepper, and
salt, unless he could supply himself from the licks the buffalo visits;
with tin kettle, and cup, and frying pan; the accoutrements of the
horse, saddle and packsaddle, bridle, spurs, and horse-shoes; with
material for bait; and last, but not least, tobacco, which if he did not
use, he carried to give to the Indians--made up not only the
necessaries, but the luxuries which the Indian and the white man
indulged in, and for which, at such times, they paid their money or
their furs.
Perhaps the trapper took an Indian wife, and then she must be made fine
with dress, denoting the dignity of her position as wife of a white man,
and presents must be given to the friends of his bride. This was usually
an expensive luxury, but indulged in most frequently by the French and
Canadian trappers, many of whom are now living quietly upon their farms
in Oregon and California, and the numerous valleys of the West. Indeed
we might give the names of many a mountain ranger, and pioneer of note,
first a trapper, who still lives surrounded by his Indian wife and
their children, and finds himself thus connected with this people,
having their utmost confidence, chosen the chief of his tribe, and able
to care for them as no one not in such association could.
At almost any point upon Green River the grass upon the bottom lands is
sufficient for a night's encampment for a small party; but at the place
selected for the rendezvous, in the space of two or three miles upon
either side of the river, the bottom spreads out in a broad prairie, and
the luxuriant growth of grass, with the country open all about it, made
the spot desirable for a large encampment.
CHAPTER XI.
Early in the summer the grass is green, but later it is hay made
naturally, root and branch dried on the ground--there is no sod--and
this, though less agreeable, is more nutritious for the animals than
fresh grass.
A scattered growth of fine old trees furnishes shade at every camp, and
immediately about the great tent they afford protection from the sun to
parties of card players, or a "Grocery stand," at which the principal
article of sale is "whiskey by the glass;" and perhaps, further on is a
_monte_ table, parties from several Indian tribes, and the pioneer of
semi-civilization--the back-woodsman--has come in "with his traps," a
few bags of flour, and possibly some cheese and butter, and the never
failing cask of whiskey. Perhaps his wagon is the grocery stand, to
which we have just alluded. Without extenuation, these encampments were
grand occasions of which a few descriptions may be found written at the
time by men of science and intellectual culture, like Sir Wm. Stewart,
who traveled upon these plains for pleasure, or the Rev. Samuel Parker,
who happened at a Green River rendezvous, in 1835, while on his way to
the Columbia River, under the auspices of the American Board of
Commissioners for Foreign Missions. This was long before Brigham Young
came West--before his scheme of religious colonization had its birth.
There is now--has been for years--a trading post where a Canadian
Frenchman and an American partner, with Indian wives, have provided
entertainment or furnished supplies to emigrants and Indians. It is near
the Green River crossing, on the road from the South Pass to great Salt
Lake City, via Fort Bridger.
Amid the motley company it might be expected that quarrels would arise,
and disorderly conduct, growing out of the feuds among the tribes of
Indians. These were kept in abeyance as much as possible, and already
Carson's popularity with them enabled him to act the part of peace-maker
between them and the quarrelsome whites, as well as between each other,
for many of them recognized him as the brave who had led excursions,
whose success they had felt and suffered, and even though leader of
victorious parties against themselves, they admired his prowess still;
for the party of Blackfeet came to the rendezvous under the protection
of the white flag, and for the time, no one more truly buried the
hatchet than Carson, though just recovered from a wound given by a party
of that tribe, which had nearly cost him his life, and of which we have
written in a previous chapter.
There was belonging to one of the trapping parties a Frenchman by the
name of Shuman, known at the rendezvous as "the big bully of the
mountains," exceedingly annoying on account of his boasts and taunts, a
constant exciter of tumult and disorder, especially among the Indians.
Bad enough at any time, with the means now for intoxication, he was even
more dangerous.
The habits of the mountaineers, without law save such as the exigency of
the moment demanded, required a firm, steady hand to rule. Carson had
feared the results of this man's lawlessness, and had often desired to
be rid of him, but he had not as yet found the proper opportunity. The
mischiefs he committed grew worse and worse, and yet for the sake of
peace they were borne unresistingly. At length an opportunity offered to
try his courage. One day Shuman, boasting of his exploits, was
particularly insolent and insulting toward all Americans, whom he
described as only fit to be whipped with switches. Carson was in the
crowd, and immediately stepped forward, saying, "I am an American, the
most inconsiderable one among them, but if you wish to die, I will
accept your challenge."
[Illustration: CARSON WAS IN THE CROWD, AND IMMEDIATELY STEPPED FORWARD
SAYING, "I AM AN AMERICAN."]
Shuman defied him. He was sitting upon his horse, with his loaded rifle
in his hand. Carson leaped upon his horse with a loaded pistol, and both
rushed into close combat. They fired, almost at the same moment, but
Carson an instant before his boasting antagonist. Their horses' heads
touched, Shuman's ball just grazing Carson's cheek, near the left eye,
and cutting off some locks of his hair. Carson's ball entered Shuman's
hand, came out at the wrist, and passed through his arm above the elbow.
The bully begged for his life, and it was spared; and from that time
forward, Americans were no more insulted by him.
If, as in other duels, we were to go back to remoter causes, and find in
this too, the defence of woman--a Blackfoot beauty--whom Shuman had
determined to abuse, which Carson's interference only had prevented, for
the sake of truth, of honor, and virtue, as against insolence,
falsehood, and treachery, although the girl did belong to a tribe that
was treacherous; we shall be but giving a point to the story that it
needs for completeness, and show Carson in the exalted manliness and
fidelity of his character.
The trappers made arrangements at the rendezvous for the fall hunt; and
the party who were so fortunate as to secure Carson's services, went to
the Yellowstone River, in the Blackfeet country, but met with no
success. Crossing through the Crows' country to the Big Horn River, they
met the party of Blackfeet returning from Green River. Carson held a
parley with them, as was his custom whenever it was safe to go to an
Indian camp. He told them he had seen none of their people, and that the
tomahawk was buried if they were faithful to him. "But," said he, "the
Crows are my friends, and while I am with them, they must be yours."
On the Big Horn, too, their success was no better, and Carson did not
meet his Crow friends. On the Big Snake, too, which they next visited,
the result was the same.
They here met a party from the Hudson Bay Company, led by a Mr. McCoy.
Carson and five of his companions accepted the offer he made them, and
went with him to the Humboldt river, trapping with little success from
its source to the desert where it loses itself, and where the termini of
several other large rivers are all within a day's ride, according to the
statement of residents at this point. Capt. McCoy said to Carson, as he
and two of the company started off upon the desert,
"Do not be gone longer than to-morrow night, and if you strike a stream
where there is beaver--there must be water between here and those snow
mountains--we will trap a few days longer."
On they rode over the artemisia plain till the lake was out of view from
an eminence which Carson climbed; then struck a tract of country
entirely destitute of every sign of animal or vegetable life, with
surface as smooth as the floor for miles in extent, then broken by a
ridge a few feet high, like the rim to a lake, whose bottom they had
passed, to plunge immediately upon another like it, with perhaps a white
and glistening crystalization spread thinly over it.
Carson knew he must be upon the celebrated Mud Lakes of which he had
heard, and of which he had seen miniature specimens further east. Over
these lake bottoms of earth, that broken, seemed like mingled sand and
ashes, but which bore the tread of their horses, and over which they
seemed to fly rather than to step, so fragrant and exhilarating was the
atmosphere, they traveled thirty miles, then struck the artemisia plains
again, only there was less of even this worthless production for the
next ten miles than he had seen before for long a distance.
Through a heavy sand, the weary horses plod, for they had come forty or
fifty miles beneath a burning sun without food and without water. On
they ride, for rest and refreshment to themselves was not to be thought
of till they have it for the animals. The river is gained! a broad, deep
current of water, muddy like that of the Platte, supplies the moisture
to the trees, whose tops ascend only a few feet above the desert level,
and whose trunks rise from green meadows but little above the surface of
the water. The bottom lands are narrow, and the abrupt bank descends to
the water perpendicularly twenty feet or more, seemingly of clayey
earth, so soft, the water constantly wore upon it, and evidently the
river channel was settling, as the years advanced. There were no signs
of beaver, and, from the nature of the banks, there could be none,
unless high up on the stream.
CHAPTER XII.
Capt. McCoy had calculated that he would soon find game in the country
through which his route lay, and therefore he had turned over to Carson,
and the division of the party under his command, nearly all the food
which was left, but this was insufficient to give them full meals for
more than three days. Their prospect was a dreary one indeed, for at the
earlier season of coming down the river, they had not half enough to
eat, even with the few beaver they had taken, to add to the supply, and
even this was now denied them. And now, that the reader may understand
Carson's position, we invite him to enjoy with us a few of the incidents
passed through, and views observed in our passage up this river, which
the untraveled eastern man would find so entirely new, and the man of
travel and of letters would find so full of interest, as did the man
whose name the river bears, for it was named by Fremont, after Carson,
whom he had learned to love and respect, long before he reached it. We
shall speak especially of the features of this country, common to so
much that lies between the civilizations of the Atlantic and the Pacific
slopes, though the latter was not a civilization; and when from the
desert Carson gazed with admiration at the snow mountains, he surmised,
as he afterwards realized through hunger, cold, danger, and suffering,
that this was the chain of mountains which separated him from
California.
At the station-house, upon the lake, called the Sink of the Humboldt, we
were told that the Humboldt did not connect with this lake, except in
the spring season, after the rains; and that for the last two years it
had not been connected even at that time; and that in the autumn one
could pass between the lake and the limit of the marsh in which the
river loses itself, upon dry ground; and that the sinks, or the margins
of the lakes or marshes in which the Carson, the Walker, and the Susan
Rivers, neither of them less than a hundred miles in length, and some of
them several hundred, in the wet season empty or lose themselves, were
all within the limit of a single day's ride, and in the direct vicinity
of the desert upon which the reader last saw Carson.
It was the evening of the second of July, during a rain storm, (an
unusual occurrence at this season of the year, no traveler having ever
reported a similar one so far as we had heard,) that, weary, and wet,
and cold, we found our way in the dark to this river in the wilderness.
The house of the traders at the sink was made of logs, with two
rooms--the logs having been drawn from the mountains, forty miles
distant. There was no timber in sight, and nothing that was green except
some grass about the lake, which we were told was poison, and on
examining, we found it encrusted with a crystalization of potash, left
on it by the subsiding water in which the grass had started.
During the wet season, the water of the lake overflows its banks, and
the banks of the river are also overflowed, while the water standing
upon the surface of the ground is strongly impregnated with potash, not
only near the sink, but far up the stream, nearly to its source, the
same cause existing, though only in occasional spots is it exhibited to
the same degree as about the lake. It is not improbable that some
immense coal formation might have been consumed here in some remote
past age, though that is a matter for more scientific examination than
becomes this work.
But, to leave speculation; the occupants of the station, whilom trappers
in the mountains, furnished barley for our animals, and we might have
purchased coffee, or a rusty gun, or bad whiskey, but little else, for
their regular supplies for the emigrants who were soon expected to
arrive, had not yet come in. The parties bound east had passed, and the
Mormons, with their herds of cattle for the California markets, had been
met beyond the desert. A party of Pah Utah or Piete Indians, a tribe of
Diggers, were hanging about the encampment, and possibly had caused the
stampede of the Mormon oxen, which one of their herdsmen had reported to
us as occurring here. The traders on the plains are charged with
conniving at such expeditions of the Indians, and of sharing with them
the plunder. These traders may not have been privy to any thing of the
kind, but certain it is they always stood ready to purchase the worn out
stock of the overland emigrants, much of which is worthless to cross the
desert, after the prior fifteen hundred miles of travel.
This is made a lucrative business, as will be readily imagined, when
the number of animals driven over is taken into consideration, which has
amounted to a hundred thousand annually, by this route, during several
of the years since the quest for gold.
The traders said they had twenty-five hundred horses and as many oxen,
in charge of herdsmen in a mountain valley. Shrewd men they were, one of
them with an eye we would not warrant to look out from a kindly soul.
Miserable wretches were these Humboldt Diggers, with scarcely a trace of
humanity in their composition, for they have not improved since Carson
first met them, many years ago. The old chief was delighted with a lump
of sugar, which one of our party gave him. He wore a long coat made of
rabbit skins, warm and durable, strips of the skin with the hair out
being wound around a deerskin thong, and these rolls woven into a
garment, but the rest of the party were nearly naked.
Passing Lassen's meadows where the party lunched at a spring, indicated,
as we approached, by a growth of willows, and striking upon the
artemisia plain that constitutes the larger portion of the river valley,
when about fifty miles from the station, we left the road by a blind
trail, and approached the river, descending to the bottom land by a
precipitous bluff thirty feet in height. The mountains approached close
on the opposite side of the river, probably a mile distant, and enclosed
us in a semi-circle, while the bluff was lined with a scattered growth
of alders.
It rained, was raining violently when we halted, and stretching a rope
from alder to alder, with a blanket thrown over it, we thus made a tent,
and established ourselves cosily to spend here the nation's Sabbath-day,
the 4th of July.
The rain turned into snow towards evening, and covered the mountains to
their base, but melting as it fell where we were encamped, and with the
cooing of the doves which filled the alders, the croaking of the frogs
in the marsh next the river, and the patter of the rain upon the bushes,
we had other music--nature's deep bass--in a constant roaring sound,
like that of old ocean at full tide on a sand beach of the open coast of
the Pacific; or like the sound of Niagara, heard half a mile away, but
there was no discoverable cause.
Going a mile up and down the river from the camp--if there is up and
down to a dead river--we still heard the sound, the same in tone and
power. Our Wyandotte--a member of the party who had crossed the plains
with Col. Fremont--suggested that it was "the Humboldt sinking."
All the day of the 4th of July we rested here, with our animals in
clover, amid the snow which reached even to the foot of the mountains
opposite, and the dirge played for us by the unseen hand. It was a
quiet, still sweetly sad day--pleasant in memory, and such an one as we
shall never spend again--so far from civilized humanity, and in a place
so remote from human footsteps, it seemed a natural wonder which had
never been properly examined and explained.
Sooner than the old trappers anticipated, will the Humboldt be lined
with farms, and the little mountain valleys filled with grazing herds,
and the church spire and the cross upon an unassuming building in the
centre of a six mile square prairie, indicate the advance of
civilization. Yet, except in the mud-lake localities, there is no tract
of country that can well be more unpromising than that about the
Humboldt; and not many years will elapse before science will make plain
and palpable that wonder of the world, "the sinking of the Humboldt."
CHAPTER XIII.
Through the country we have thus briefly described, Carson and his men
had trapped taking some small game, intending to return late in the
season when the cold of this high altitude, with the sun low, was
becoming terribly severe, while the grass was dead, and the birds of
passage had all departed. Their prospects were cheerless and
unpromising, nor were they at all improved after they left the Humboldt;
for their route lay through an artemisia desert, varied only by an
occasional little valley, where springs of water in the early season had
induced the growth of grass.
On reaching Goose Creek, they found it frozen, so that there was no
possibility of finding even roots, to satisfy their hunger. Though
to-day this is the trail of California emigration, with plenty of grass,
for a great portion of the way, in its season; now all was desolate,
and inured as they were to hardship, Carson's men had never before
suffered so much from hunger, nor did their animals fare much better.
Capt. McCoy had taken with him all not needed by Carson's party, because
he could give them food, and it was fortunate for them he had adopted
this course.
The magnificent mountain scenery on the route could scarcely excite
admiration or remark from this company of hungry, toil-worn men; even
that unique exhibition of nature's improvised ideality, done in
stone--pyramid circle--with its pagodas, temples, obelisks, and altars,
within a curiously wrought rock wall, they only wished were the _adobe_
walls and houses of Fort Hall. However, nothing daunted by the dreary
prospect before them, they here bled their horses, and drank the
precious draught, well knowing they were taking the wind from the sails
upon which they must rely to waft them into port, if they ever reached
it.
The next day, they were meditating the slaughter of one of their horses,
when a party of Snake Indians fortunately came in sight. They had been
out on the war trail, and returning, had little food, but Carson managed
to purchase a fat horse, which they killed at once, and thus managed to
live luxuriously till they reached the fort, able now to walk and give
the horses the advantage of their diet.
Epicureans of civilization, when the squeamishness of an appetite,
perverted by too delicate fare, is invited to such a repast, may rest
assured that they know not the satisfaction such fare afforded to Kit
Carson and his party. Horse beef was sweeter food to these starving men,
than epicures had ever tasted.
After recruiting for a few days at the fort, and learning that there
were large herds of the game, which they gloried most in hunting, the
buffalo, near by, Carson and his party started for the stream on which
they could be found, and were not long in discovering a large herd of
fine fat buffalo. Stretching lines on which to hang the strips, they
killed, and dressed, and cut; and soon had dried all the meat their
animals could carry, when they returned to the fort.
Three days before reaching the fort, a party of Blackfeet Indians were
again upon their trail, and watching for their return.
On the third morning after their arrival, just as day dawned, two of the
Indians came past their camp to the _corral_ of the fort in which their
animals were confined, let down the bars and drove them all away; the
sentinel thinking the Indians were men of his party who had come to
relieve his watch, had gone into camp and was soundly sleeping before
the animals were missed. By this time the Indians had driven them many
miles away, and as a similar _ruse_ had been played upon the people at
the fort a few days before, by which all their animals were run off,
there was no possibility of giving chase.
Of course there was now no alternative but to wait the return of Capt.
McCoy from Walla Walla, which he did in about four weeks, bringing
animals enough to supply Carson and his party, besides, the men at the
fort, which had been obtained of the Kiowas, or Kaious Indians, in
Oregon. These Indians range between the Cascade and the Rocky Mountains,
in what is now the eastern portion of Washington and Oregon Territories,
living by the chase, and owning immense herds of horses, of which the
chief of this tribe owned ten thousand. In this same locality the Indian
bands reported by the parties of trappers in the American Fur Company,
had abundance of horses, with which they hunted deer, "ringing or
surrounding them, and running them down in a circle." But while
antelope, and elk, and deer, as well as beaver, were abundant, their
locality was not frequented by the buffalo, its ranges being further
toward the south and west.
Many suppose that buffalo never existed west of the Rocky Mountains; but
to attempt a correction of this impression with our readers, is no
longer necessary, as we have seen Carson killing them on the Salmon
River, on the Green River, and lastly, in the valley of a stream that
flows into the Salmon.
From Baird's General Repository, published in 1857, we quote,
"It will perhaps excite surprise that I include the buffalo in the fauna
of the Pacific States, as it is common to imagine that the buffalo has
always been confined to the Atlantic slopes, because it does not now
extend beyond the Rocky mountains. This is not true. They once abounded
on the Pacific."
This animal has not been found in California nor in Oregon, west of the
Cascade mountains, within the present generation of men, and the limit
of its ranges, narrowing every year, is now far this side of the Rocky
Mountains. Really a wild animal, incapable of being domesticated, as the
country is more and more traversed, he retires--is killed by thousands
by the hunter--and seems destined, as really as the Indian race, to
become extinct. Could either be induced to adopt the modes of life which
residence among the races of civilized men requires, their existence
might be prolonged perhaps for centuries, but there seems to be no care,
on the part of anybody who has the power, to preserve either the Indian
or the buffalo as a distinct race of man, and quadruped.
A writer who reports his trip from California in the summer of '57, by
Humboldt River and Fort Laramie, says:
"I watched for buffalo, expecting to see them in the valleys of the
streams, the head-waters of the Platte. But the hundred miles upon the
Sweet-water revealed no buffalo; upon the North Platte above Laramie
there were none, and on to Fort Kearney we looked in vain for this noble
game. If we had been a wagon party, and therefore confined to the road,
this would not have surprised us, as the immense emigration to
California first, to Salt Lake next, and the United States army
following, might be supposed to have driven them away. Then, too, Col.
Sumner had been through, and with a war party of three hundred mounted
riflemen, had followed the Cheyennes from Fort Laramie south to the
head-waters of the Arkansas. But we frequently left the road for days
together, in pursuit of game and the finer scenery of the immediate
river valley, or the hills as it happened.
"Only until three days after passing Fort Kearney, did the glad sight
greet us.
"In the broad bottom--ten miles at least between the hills that shut in
the river valley--they were scattered thickly and quietly grazing.
"In two hours after coming in sight of them, we pitched our camp upon
the river bank, and were soon prepared for the hunt. Though ten thousand
were in sight, we had not yet approached within half a mile of one, so
shy are they, moving off when we came in sight.
"The Platte was three quarters of a mile wide where we were camped, and
above and below us were numerous trails running from the river back into
the hills. These were like the cow-paths running to a spring in a New
England pasture. We camped about three o'clock, and soon after the
buffalo upon one side of the stream commenced moving towards the river
by these paths, and following each other close, to wade across it in a
continuous line by half a dozen paths in sight from where we were.
These moving lines of huge animals were continued till slumber closed
our eyes, at ten o'clock in the evening, and we knew not how much
longer.
"Having no fresh animals, and only one that had not made the distance
from the other side the Sierra Nevada within the last fifty days, we
could not hunt by the chase. Accordingly, with nicely loaded double
barrelled rifle, we crept through the under-brush that lined the bank
above us, and came near a line of buffalo crossing the river, and
choosing our opportunity, as the animal pauses from the brisk trot
before plunging into the stream, we were able to take good aim, and soon
had lodged a ball in the breast of a fine cow, who with a bound leaped
into the water, but was not able to proceed, nor needed the other shot
which we lodged in the brain, to float her down the stream.
"Calling help, we had her dressed directly, and the nicest steaks upon
the coals already kindled at the camp, and found them exceedingly
delicious--of course more so from the fact that we had taken it. Others
of the party came in without success; some had shot at a buffalo, others
had got a sight of one, and at two of the crossings the line was broken
temporarily by an unsuccessful attempt to kill an animal, but without
hurting him. Most of us had no practice with this kind of game, though
they had killed grouse, and some of them had shot antelope during our
journey. But now their guns would not go off, or they shot too high, or
could not get near enough. Just at dark, however, the old gentleman came
in for help. His French rifle--a gun of Revolutionary times--had done
execution, and a big bull was the prize he announced. We invited him to
our prepared repast, but 'no! he would sup to-night upon his own game,
he thanked us.' Of course he had the tongue from the animal he killed,
nor were the tender-loin and other choice bits bad eating, and taking
the tongue ourself, with the rest of the party, (of ten,) we managed to
carry away in the morning nearly all of the cow that we had not already
eaten.
"All night long the bellowing from the other side the river greeted our
tired senses. The situation was novel, and really in imagination, quite
terrific. Would they return across the river and stampede our animals?
We got a little sleep before midnight, but not much later.
"In the morning the buffalo were indeed returning in the style they
went, but as we rode on over their track, the lines were always broken,
and the animals scattered before we could approach them, and only once
did we come within pistol shot of any of them; nor did the rest of the
party do any better.
"Of course we might have done it had we made this our business; but we
were hastening from the El Dorado, after a four years' absence from our
homes. So much for our _extemporised_ buffalo hunting. In twenty-four
hours after striking them, we had passed the buffalo, and saw no more of
them. As we estimated it, we had seen in that time at least fifty
thousand; we had crossed the trail of fifteen lines of them crossing the
river after we left camp this morning."
We have quoted this to show the way in which travelers--emigrants
now--meet the buffalo. Sometimes a huge drove of them overrun an
emigrant party; but this seldom occurs, nor do parties often see more of
them than did the one we have just presented, though usually they see
them for a longer time. So much have the times changed since Carson was
a trapper.
CHAPTER XIV.
With fresh animals, and men well fed and rested, McCoy and Carson and
all their party soon started from Fort Hall, for the rendezvous again
upon Green River, where they were detained some weeks for the arrival of
other parties, enjoying as they best might the occasion, and preparing
for future operations.
A party of an hundred was here organized, with Mr. Fontenelle and Carson
for its leaders, to trap upon the Yellowstone, and the head waters of
the Missouri. It was known that they would probably meet the Blackfeet
in whose grounds they were going, and it was therefore arranged, that,
while fifty were to trap and furnish the food for the party, the
remainder should be assigned to guard the camp and cook. There was no
disinclination on the part of any to another meeting with the Blackfeet,
so often had they troubled members of the party, especially Carson, who,
while he could be magnanimous towards an enemy, would not turn aside
from his course, if able to cope with him; and now he was in a company
which justly felt itself strong enough to punish the "thieving
Blackfeet," as they spoke of them, he was anxious to pay off some old
scores.
They saw nothing, however, of these Indians; but afterwards learned that
the small-pox had raged terribly among them, and that they had kept
themselves retired in mountain valleys, oppressed with fear and severe
disease.
The winter's encampment was made in this region, and a party of Crow
Indians which was with them, camped at a little distance, on the same
stream. Here they had secured an abundance of meat, and passed the
severe weather with a variety of amusements in which the Indians joined
them in their lodges, made of buffalo hides. These lodges, very good
substitutes for houses, are made in the form of a cone, spread by the
means of poles spreading from a common centre, where there was a hole at
the top for the passage of the smoke. These were often twenty feet in
height, and as many feet in diameter, where they were pinned to the
ground with stakes. In a large village the Indians often had one lodge
large enough to hold fifty persons, and within were performed their war
dances around a fire made in the centre. During the palmy days of the
British Fur Company, in a lodge like this only made, instead, of
birch-bark, Irving says the Indians of the north held their "primitive
fairs," outside the city of Montreal, where they disposed of their furs.
There was one drawback upon conviviality for this party, in the extreme
difficulty of getting food for their animals; for the food and fuel so
abundant for themselves did not suffice for their horses. Snow covered
the ground, and the trappers were obliged to gather willow twigs, and
strip the bark from cottonwood trees, in order to keep them alive. The
inner bark of the cottonwood is eaten by the Indians when reduced to
extreme want. Beside, the cold brought the buffalo down upon them in
large herds, to share the nourishment they had provided for their
horses.
Spring at length opened, and gladly they again commenced trapping; first
on the Yellowstone, and soon on the head waters of the Missouri, where
they learned that the Blackfeet were recovered from the sickness of last
year, which had not been so severe as it was reported, and that they
were still anxious and in condition for a fight, and were encamped not
far from their present trapping grounds.
Carson and five men went forward in advance "to reconnoitre," and found
the village preparing to remove, having learned of the presence of the
trappers. Hurrying back, a party of forty-three was selected from the
whole, and they unanimously selected Carson to lead them, and leaving
the rest to move on with the baggage, and aid them if it should be
necessary when they should come up with the Indians, they hastened
forward, eager for a battle.
Carson and his command were not long in overtaking the Indians, and
dashing among them, at the first fire killed ten of their braves, but
the Indians rallied, and retreated in good order. The white men were in
fine spirits, and followed up their first attack with deadly result for
three full hours, the Indians making scarce any resistance. Now their
firing became less animated as their ammunition was getting low, and
they had to use it with extreme caution. The Indians, suspecting this
from the slackness of their fire, rallied, and with a tremendous whoop
turned upon their enemies.
Now Carson and his company could use their small arms, which produced a
terrible effect, and which enabled them again to drive back the
Indians. They rallied yet again, and charged with so much power, and in
such numbers, they forced the trappers to retreat.
During this engagement, the horse of one of the mountaineers was killed,
and fell with his whole weight upon his rider. Carson saw the condition
of the man, with six warriors rushing to take his scalp, and reached the
spot in time to save his friend. Leaping from the saddle, he placed
himself before his fallen companion, shouting at the same time for his
men to rally around him, and with deadly aim from his rifle, shot down
the foremost warrior.
The trappers now rallied about Carson, and the remaining five warriors
retired, without the scalp of their fallen foe. Only two of them reached
a place of safety; for the well aimed fire of the trappers leveled them
with the earth.
Carson's horse was loose, and as his comrade was safe, he mounted behind
one of his men, and rode back to the ranks, while, by general impulse,
the firing upon both sides ceased. His horse was captured and restored
to him, but each party, now thoroughly exhausted, seemed to wait for the
other to renew the attack.
While resting in this attitude, the other division of the trappers came
in sight, but the Indians, showing no fear, posted themselves among the
rocks at some distance from the scene of the last skirmish, and coolly
waited for their adversaries. Exhausted ammunition had been the cause of
the retreat of Carson and his force, but now with a renewed supply, and
an addition of fresh men to the force, they advanced on foot to drive
the Indians from their hiding places. The contest was desperate and
severe, but powder and ball eventually conquered, and the Indians, once
dislodged, scattered in every direction. The trappers considered this a
complete victory over the Blackfeet, for a large number of their
warriors were killed, and many more were wounded, while they had but
three men killed, and a few severely wounded.
Fontenelle and his party now camped at the scene of the engagement, to
recruit their men, and bury here their dead. Afterward they trapped
through the whole Blackfeet country, and with great success; going where
they pleased without fear or molestation. The Indians kept off their
_route_, evidently having acquaintance with Carson and his company
enough to last them their life time. With the small-pox and the white
man's rifles the warriors were much reduced, and the tribe which had
formerly numbered thirty thousand, was already decimated, and a few more
blows, like the one dealt by this dauntless band, would suffice to break
its spirit, and destroy its power for future evil.
During the battle with the trappers, the women and children of the
Blackfeet village were sent on in advance, and when the engagement was
over, and the braves returned to them so much reduced in numbers, and
without a single scalp, the big lodge that had been erected for the war
dance, was given up for the wounded, and in hundreds of Indian hearts
grew a bitterer hatred for the white man.
An express, despatched for the purpose, announced the place of the
rendezvous to Fontenelle and Carson, who were now on Green River, and
with their whole party and a large stock of furs, they at once set out
for the place upon Mud River, to find the sales commenced before their
arrival, so that in twenty days they were ready to break up camp.
Carson now organized a party of seven, and proceeded to a trading post
called Brown's Hole, where he joined a company of traders to go to the
Navajoe Indians. He found this tribe more assimilated to the white man
than any Indians he had yet seen, having many fine horses and large
flocks of sheep and cattle. They also possessed the art of weaving, and
their blankets were in great demand through Mexico, bringing high
prices, on account of their great beauty, being woven in flowers with
much taste. They were evidently a remnant of the Aztec race.
They traded here for a large drove of fine mules, which, taken to the
fort on the South Platte, realized good prices, when Carson went again
to Brown's Hole, a narrow but pretty valley about sixteen miles long,
upon the Colorado River.
After many offers for his services from other parties, Carson at length
engaged himself for the winter, to hunt for the men at this fort, and as
the game was abundant in this beautiful valley, and in the cañon country
further down the Colorado, in its deer, elk, and antelope, reminding him
of his hunts upon the Sacramento, the task was a delightful one to him.
In the spring, Carson trapped with Bridger and Owen's with passable
success, and went to the rendezvous upon Wind River, at the head of the
Yellowstone, and from thence, with a large part of the trappers at the
rendezvous, to the Yellowstone, where they camped in the vicinity for
the winter, without seeing their old enemy, the Blackfeet Indians, until
mid-winter, when they discovered that they were near their principal
stronghold.
A party of forty was selected to give them battle, with Carson, of
course, for their captain. They found the Indians already in the field,
to the number of several hundred, who made a brave resistance, until
night and darkness admonished both parties to retire. In the morning
when Carson and his men went to the spot whither the Indians had
retired, they were not to be found. They had given them a "wide berth,"
taking their all away with them, even their dead.
Carson and his command returned to camp, where a council of war decided
that as the Indians would report, at the principal encampment, the
terrible loss they had sustained, and others would be sent to renew the
fight, it was wise to prepare to act on the defensive, and use every
precaution immediately; and accordingly a sentinel was stationed on a
lofty hill near by, who soon reported that the Indians were upon the
move.
Their plans matured, they at once threw up a breastwork, under Carson's
direction, and waited the approach of the Indians, who came in slowly,
the first parties waiting for those behind. After three days, a full
thousand had reached the camp, about half a mile from the breastwork of
the trappers. In their war paint--stripes of red across the forehead,
and down either cheek--with their bows and arrows, tomahawks, and
lances, this army of Indians presented a formidable appearance to the
small body of trappers who were opposed to them.
The war dance was enacted in sight and hearing of the trappers, and at
early dawn the Indians advanced, having made every preparation for the
attack. Carson commanded his men to reserve their fire till the Indians
were near enough to have every shot tell; but seeing the strength of the
white men's position, after a few ineffectual shots, the Indians
retired, camped a mile from them, and finally separated into two
parties, and went away, leaving the trappers to breathe more freely,
for, at the best, the encounter must have been of a desperate character.
They evidently recognized the leader who had before dealt so severely
with them, in the skill with which the defence was arranged, and if the
name of Kit Carson was on their lips, they knew him for both bravery
and magnanimity, and had not the courage to offer him battle.
Another winter gone, saddlery, moccasin-making, lodge-building, to
complete the repairs of the summer's wars and the winter's fight, all
completed, Carson with fifteen men went, past Fort Hall, again to the
Salmon River, and trapped part of the season there and upon Big Snake,
and Goose Creeks, and selling his furs at Fort Hall, again joined
Bridger in another trapping excursion into the Blackfeet country.
The Blackfeet had molested the traps of another party who had arrived
there before them, and had driven them away. The Indian assailants were
still near, and Carson led his party against them, taking care to
station himself and men in the edge of a thicket, where they kept the
savages at bay all day, taking a man from their number with nearly every
shot of their well directed rifles. In vain the Indians now attempted to
fire the thicket; it would not burn, and sullenly they retired, forced
again to acknowledge defeat at the hands of Kit Carson, the "Monarch of
the Prairies."
Carson's party now joined with the others, but concluding that they
could not trap successfully with the annoyance the Indians were likely
to give them, as their force was too small to hope to conquer, they left
this part of the country for the north fork of the Missouri.
Now they were with the friendly Flatheads, one of whose chiefs joined
them in the hunt, and went into camp near them, with a party of his
braves. This tribe of Indians, like several other tribes which extend
along this latitude to the Pacific, have the custom which gives them
their name, thus described by Irving, in speaking of the Indians upon
the Lower Columbia, about its mouth.
"A most singular custom," he says, "prevails, not only among the
Chinooks, but among most of the tribes about this part of the coast,
which is the flattening of the forehead. The process by which this
deformity is effected, commences immediately after birth. The infant is
laid in a wooden trough, by way of cradle. The end on which the head
reposes is higher than the rest. A padding is placed on the forehead of
the infant, with a piece of bark above it, and is pressed down by cords
which pass through holes upon the sides of the trough. As the tightening
of the padding and the pressure of the head to the board is gradual,
the process is said not to be attended with pain. The appearance of the
infant, however, while in this state of compression is whimsically
hideous, and 'its little black eyes,' we are told, 'being forced out by
the tightness of the bandages, resemble those of a mouse choked in a
trap.'
"About a year's pressure is sufficient to produce the desired effect, at
the end of which time, the child emerges from its bandages, a complete
flathead, and continues so through life. It must be noted, however, that
this flattening of the head has something in it of aristocratic
significance, like the crippling of the feet among the Chinese ladies of
quality. At any rate, it is the sign of freedom. No slave is permitted
to bestow this deformity upon the head of his children; all the slaves,
therefore, are roundheads."
CHAPTER XV.
In the spring, Kit Carson proposed a different plan of operations; he
went to hunt on the streams in the vicinage of his winter's camp with
only a single companion. The Utah Indians, into whose country he came,
were also friends of Carson, and, unmolested in his business, his
efforts were crowned with abundant success. He took his furs to Robideau
fort, and with a party of five went to Grand River, and thence to
Brown's Hole on Green River for the winter.
In the following spring he went to the Utah country, to the streams that
flow into Great Salt Lake on the South, which was rich in furs and of
exceeding beauty, with the points of grand old snow mountains ever in
sight, around him.
From here he went to the New Fork, and as it was afterward described by
a party for whom Carson was the guide, we shall not give the
description at this point of our narrative. Again he trapped among the
Utahs, and disposed of his furs at Robideau Fort; but now the prices did
not please him. Beaver fur was at a discount, and the trade of the
trapper becoming unprofitable.
Baird, in his general report upon mammals, uses the following language,
which is appropriate in this connection:
"The beaver once inhabited all of the globe lying in the northern
temperate zone; yet from Europe, China, and all the eastern portion of
the United States, it has been entirely exterminated, and a war so
universal and relentless has been waged upon this defenceless animal,
his great intelligence has been so generally opposed by the intelligence
of man, it has seemed certain, unless some kind providence should
interpose, that the castor, like its congener, the Castorides, would
soon be found only in a fossil state.
"Happily that providence did interpose, through a certain ingenious
somebody, who first suggested the use of silk in the place of fur for
the covering of hats. The beaver were not yet exterminated from Western
America, and now, since they are not "worth killing," in those
inhospitable regions, where there is no encouragement for American
enterprise or cupidity, we may hope that the beaver will there retain
existence, in a home exclusively their own.
"The price of beaver skins has so much diminished that they were offered
to some of the party at twenty-five cents by the bale."
Carson had pursued the business of trapping for eight years, and his
life had been one of unceasing toil, of extreme hardship, full of
danger, yet withal full of interest. More than this, while the lack of
early scientific training had prevented him from making that record of
his travels, which would have given the world the benefit of his
explorations, he had treasured in his memory the knowledge of
localities, of their conditions, and seasons, and advantages, which in
the good time coming, would enable him to associate his labors with
another, who possessed the scientific attainments which Carson lacked,
and who with Carson's invaluable assistance would come to be known world
wide as a bold explorer, and who, but for Carson's experience, where
such experience was a chief requisite to success, might have failed in
his first efforts in the grand enterprise entrusted to him.
Carson knew the general features of the country, its mountains, plains,
and rivers, and the minor points of animal and vegetable productions,
from the head waters of the "monarch of rivers," to the mouth of the
Colorado, and from the southern Arkansas to the Columbia, better,
perhaps, than any one living, though yet but twenty-five years of age.
We left Carson at Robideau Fort, tired of the pursuit of trapping, as
soon as it had become unprofitable, and while there, he arranged with
three or four other trappers, to come down to Bent's Fort. The trip was
like others made at this season, through a country where the rifle would
supply food for the party, and arriving at Bent's Fort, where his name
was already well-known, Carson could not long be idle. He engaged
himself to Messrs. Bent and St. Vrain, as hunter to the fort, preferring
this by far to the idea of seeking employment nearer civilized life.
Indeed no situation could have pleased him better, if we may judge from
the fact that he continued in it for eight years, and until the
connection with his employers was broken by the death of one of the
partners, Col. Bent.
Gov. Bent, since appointed to the office of chief magistrate of New
Mexico, by the United States Government, had been killed by Mexican
Indians, and was universally mourned by Americans and Indians wherever
he was known. Mr. St. Vrain, the other partner, was active during the
Mexican war, since the date of which we write, still lives, and is
esteemed, as a father, by many an early mountaineer. Carson owed him
gratitude for kindly sympathy and words of counsel, when yet a youth he
was commencing his mountain life, and Dr. Peters, the first biographer
of Kit Carson, dedicates his book to Col. St. Vrain, asserting that he
was the first to discover and direct Carson's talents to the path in
which they were employed. For both of these gentlemanly proprietors,
Carson cherished a warm friendship, nor was there ever an unpleasant
occurrence between them.
When game was plenty, he supplied the forty mouths to be filled with
ease, but when it was scarce, his task was sometimes difficult, but
skill and experience enabled him to triumph over every obstacle.
It is not strange that with such long experience Carson became the most
skillful of hunters, and won the name of the "Nestor of the Rocky
Mountains." Among the Indians he had earned the undisputed title of
"Monarch of the Prairies."
But while he killed thousands of elk, deer, and antelope, nor disdained
the rabbit and the grouse, and took the wild goose on the wing, of all
the game of beast or bird, he liked the best to hunt the buffalo, for
there was an excitement in the chase of that noble animal which aroused
his spirits to the highest pitch of excitement.
Assuredly, Christopher Carson's _is_ "a life out of the usual routine,
and checkered with adventures which have sorely tested the courage and
endurance of this wonderful man." Col. St. Vrain, in the preface to
Peters' Life of Carson, says,
"Entering upon his life work at the age of seventeen, choosing now to
think for himself, nor follow the lead of those who would detain him in
a quiet life, while he felt the restless fire 'in his bones,' that
forbade his burying his energy in merely mechanical toil, he had yet
been directed in his choice, by the fitness for it the pursuits of youth
had given, and spurning the humdrum monotony of the shop, gave himself
entirely to what would most aid him in attaining the profession he had
chosen. We must admire such spirit in a youth, for it augurs well for
the energy and will power of the manhood; therefore, when the biographer
says of Christopher Carson, that the neighbors who knew him, predicted
an uncommon life in the child with whom they hunted, and conceded to him
positions, as well as privileges, that were not accorded to common men,
with his life till thirty-three before us, we feel that he has fulfilled
the hope of early promise, with a noble manhood."
We have followed Carson's pathway, without much of detail, to the
localities where he practised the profession he had chosen, until we saw
him leave it because it ceased longer to afford compensation for his
toil, and during as long a period we have written of his quiet pursuit
of the, to him, pleasant, but laborious life of a hunter; unless we must
class the latter eight years with the former, and assume each as a part
of the profession he had chosen.
In all, with perhaps the exception of a few weeks at Santa Fe, when
still in his minority, we have found him ever strong to resist the
thousand temptations to evil with which his pathway was beset, and which
drew other men away. Strong ever in the maintenance of the integrity of
his manhood, even when the convivial circle and the game had a brief
fascination for him, they taught him the lesson which he needed to
learn, that only by earnest resistance, can evil be overcome; and thus
he was enabled to admonish others against those temptations which had
once overcome even his powers of resistance; and so he learned to school
himself to the idea, that good comes ever through the temptation to evil
to all those who have the courage to extract it.
We have followed him up and down all the streams of our great central
western wilds, and indicated the store of geographic knowledge which he
had acquired by hard experience before they were known so far to any one
besides; and then for eight years more we have seen that this knowledge
was digested and reviewed in the social circle with other mountain
trappers, and beside the lonely mountain river, and 'neath the wild,
steep cliff; or on the grassy bottom, or the barren plain, and in the
less sterile places where the sage hen found a covert, and up among the
oak openings, and in the gigantic parks, where, as a hunter, he
revisited old haunts.
In all his toilsome and adventurous enterprises, while he sought to
benefit himself, he never turned away, nor failed to lend a helping hand
to a needy, suffering brother, or to encourage one who needed such a
lesson, to turn his youth to the most account; and if affectionate
regard is a recompense for such service, he had his compensation, as he
passed along the path he had marked out for himself, not from the white
man alone, but from the Indian who everywhere came to look upon Kit
Carson as his friend.
The Camanches, the Arapahoes, the Utahs, and the Cheyennes, besides
several smaller tribes, knew him personally in the hunt, and he had sat
by their camp fires, and dandled their children, and sung to them the
ditty,
"What makes the lamb love Mary so?
The eager children cry;
Why Mary loves the lamb, you know,
And that's the reason why."
The Indians feared, and reverenced, and loved him, and that this latter
may be proved to the reader we relate the following story of private
history, nor will it be esteemed out of taste:
The powerful Sioux had come from the north beyond their usual hunting
grounds, and had had skirmishes with several Indian bands, some of whom
sent for Carson to the Upper Arkansas to come over and help them drive
back the Sioux. As the larder at the fort was full, he consented to go
with the war-painted Camanche messengers to a camp of their tribe,
united with a band of Arapahoes. They told him the Sioux had a thousand
warriors and many rifles, and they feared them, but knew that the
"Monarch of the Prairies" could overcome them. Carson sat in council
with the chiefs, and finally, instead of encouraging them to fight,
persuaded them to peace, and acted so successfully the part of mediator,
that the Sioux consented to retire from the hunting grounds of the
Camanches when the season was over, and they separated without a
collision.
It was while engaged as hunter for Messrs. Bent and St. Vrain, Carson
took to himself an Indian wife, by whom he had a daughter still living,
and who forms the connecting link between his past hardships, and his
present greatness; for that he is emphatically a great man, the whole
civilized world has acknowledged.
The mother died soon after her birth, and Carson feeling that his rude
cabin was scarcely the place to rear his child, determined, when of a
suitable age, to take her to St. Louis, and secure for her those
advantages of education which circumstances had denied to him; and
accordingly, when his engagement at the fort had expired, he determined
to go to St. Louis for that purpose, embracing on the route the
opportunity of visiting the home of his boyhood, which he had not seen
for sixteen years.
Of course he found everything changed. Many of those whom he had known
as men and heads of families, were now grown old, while more had died
off; but by those to whom he was made known, he was recognized with a
heartiness of welcome which brought tears to his eyes, though his heart
was saddened at the changes which time had wrought. His fame had
preceded him, and his welcome was therefore doubly cordial, for he had
more than verified the promise of his youth.
Thence he proceeded to St. Louis, with the intention of placing his
daughter at school, but here, to his great amazement, he found himself a
lion; for the advent of such a man in such a city, which had so often
rung with his deeds of daring and suffering, could not be permitted to
remain among its citizens unknown or unrecognized. He was courted and
fêted and though gratified at the attentions showered upon him, found
himself so thoroughly out of his element, that he longed to return to
more pleasant and more familiar scenes, his old hunting grounds.
Having accomplished the object of his visit to St. Louis, in placing his
daughter under proper guardianship, he left the city, carrying with him
pleasing, because merited remembrances of the attentions paid to him,
and leaving behind him impressions of the most favorable character.
Soon after he reached St. Louis, he had the good fortune to fall in with
Lieut. Fremont, who was there organizing a party for the exploration of
the far western country, as yet unknown, and who was anxiously awaiting
the arrival of Captain Drips, a well known trader and trapper, who had
been highly recommended to him as a guide.
Kit Carson's name and fame were familiar as household words to Fremont,
and he gladly availed himself of his proffered services in lieu of those
of Capt. Drips. It did not take long for two such men as John C. Fremont
and Kit Carson to become thoroughly acquainted with each other, and the
accidental meeting at St. Louis resulted in the cementing of a
friendship which has never been impaired,--won as it was on the one part
by fidelity, truthfulness, integrity, and courage, united to vast
experience and consummate skill in the prosecution of the duty he had
assumed--on the other by every quality which commands honour, regard,
esteem, and high personal devotion.
And now Carson's life has commenced in earnest, for heretofore he has
only been fitting himself to live. His name is embodied in the archives
of our country's history, and no one has been more ready to accord to
him the credit he so well earned, as has he who had the good fortune to
secure, at the same time, the services of the most experienced guide of
his day, and the devotion of a friend.
Lieut. Fremont had instructions to explore and report upon the country
lying between the frontiers of Missouri and the South Pass in the Rocky
Mountains, on the line of the Kansas and Great Platte Rivers, and with
his party, leaving St. Louis on the 22nd of May, 1842, by steamboat for
Chouteau's Landing on the Missouri, near the mouth of the Kansas, at a
point twelve miles beyond at Chouteau's trading post, he encamped there
to complete his arrangements for this important expedition.
CHAPTER XVI.
Fremont was delayed several days at Chouteau's Landing, by the state of
the weather, which prevented the necessary astronomical observations,
but finally all his arrangements being completed, and the weather
permitting, the party started in the highest spirit, and filled with
anticipations of an exciting and adventurous journey.
He had collected in the neighborhood of St. Louis twenty-one men,
principally Creole and Canadian _voyageurs_, who had become familiar
with prairie life in the service of the fur companies in the Indian
country. Mr. Charles Preuss, a native of Germany, was his assistant in
the topographical part of the survey. L. Maxwell, of Kaskaskia, had been
engaged as hunter, and Christopher Carson as guide.
Mr. Cyprian Chouteau, to whose kindness, during their stay at his house,
all were much indebted, accompanied them several miles on their way,
until they met an Indian, whom he had engaged to conduct them on the
first thirty or forty miles, where he was to consign them to the ocean
prairie, which stretched, without interruption, almost to the base of
the Rocky Mountains.
During the journey, it was the customary practice to encamp an hour or
two before sunset, when the carts were disposed so as to form a sort of
barricade around a circle some eighty yards in diameter. The tents were
pitched, and the horses hobbled and turned loose to graze; and but a few
minutes elapsed before the cooks of the messes, of which there were
four, were busily engaged in preparing the evening meal. At nightfall,
the horses, mules, and oxen, were driven in and picketed--that is,
secured by a halter, of which one end was tied to a small steel-shod
picket, and driven into the ground; the halter being twenty or thirty
feet long, which enabled them to obtain a little food during the night.
When they had reached a part of the country where such a precaution
became necessary, the carts being regularly arranged for defending the
camp, guard was mounted at eight o'clock, consisting of three men, who
were relieved every two hours; the morning watch being horse guard for
the day. At daybreak, the camp was roused, the animals turned loose to
graze, and breakfast generally over between six and seven o'clock, when
they resumed their march, making regularly a halt at noon for one or two
hours. Such was usually the order of the day, except when accident of
country forced a variation, which, however, happened but rarely.
They reached the ford of the Kansas late in the afternoon of the 14th,
where the river was two hundred and thirty yards wide, and commenced
immediately preparations for crossing. The river had been swollen by the
late rains, and was sweeping by with an angry current, yellow and turbid
as the Missouri. Up to this point, the road traveled was a remarkably
fine one, well beaten and level--the usual road of a prairie country. By
this route, the ford was one hundred miles from the mouth of the Kansas
river, on reaching which several mounted men led the way into the
stream, to swim across. The animals were driven in after them, and in a
few minutes all had reached the opposite bank in safety, with the
exception of the oxen, which swam some distance down the river, and,
returning to the right bank, were not got over until the next morning.
In the meantime, the carts had been unloaded and dismantled, and an
India-rubber boat, which had been brought for the survey of the Platte
River, placed in the water. The boat was twenty feet long and five
broad, and on it were placed the body and wheels of a cart, with the
load belonging to it, and three men with paddles.
The velocity of the current, and the inconvenient freight, rendering it
difficult to be managed, Basil Lajeunesse, one of the best swimmers,
took in his teeth a line attached to the boat, and swam ahead in order
to reach a footing as soon as possible, and assist in drawing her over.
In this manner, six passages had been successfully made, and as many
carts with their contents, and a greater portion of the party, deposited
on the left bank; but night was drawing near, and in his great anxiety
to complete the crossing before darkness set in, he put on the boat,
contrary to the advice of Carson, the last two carts with their loads.
The consequence was, the boat was capsized, and everything on board was
in a moment floating down stream. They were all, however, eventually
recovered, but not without great trouble. Carson and Maxwell, who had
been in the water nearly all the succeeding day, searching for the lost
articles, were taken so ill in consequence of the prolonged exposure,
the party was obliged to lie by another day to enable them to recruit,
for to proceed without them would have been folly.
The dense timber which surrounded their camp, interfering with
astronomical observations, and the wet and damaged stores requiring
exposure to the sun, the tents were struck early the next day but one
after this disaster and the party moved up the river about seven miles,
where they camped upon a handsome open prairie, some twenty feet above
the water, and where the fine grass afforded a luxurious repast to the
weary animals. They lay in camp here two days, during which time the men
were kept busy in drying the provisions, painting the cart covers, and
otherwise completing their equipage, until the afternoon when powder was
distributed to them, and they spent some hours in firing at a mark, as
they were now fairly in the Indian country, and it began to be time to
prepare for the chances of the wilderness.
CHAPTER XVII.
Leaving the river bottom, the road which was the Oregon trail, past Fort
Laramie,--ran along the uplands, over a rolling country, upon which were
scattered many boulders of red sand-stone, some of them of several tons
weight; and many beautiful plants and flowers enlivened the prairie. The
barometer indicated fourteen hundred feet above the level of the sea,
and the elevation appeared to have its influence on vegetation.
The country became more broken, rising still and covered everywhere with
fragments of silicious limestone, strewn over the earth like pebbles on
the sea shore; especially upon the summits and exposed situations; and
in these places but few plants grew, while in the creek bottoms, and
ravines, a great variety of plants flourished.
For several days they continued their journey, annoyed only by the lack
of water, and at length reached the range of the Pawnees who infested
that part of the country, stealing horses from companies on their way to
the mountains, and when in sufficient force, openly attacking them, and
subjecting them to various insults; and it was while encamped here, that
a regular guard was mounted for the first time, but the night passed
over without annoyance.
Speaking of the constant watchfulness required when in the neighborhood
of hostile or thieving Indians, Fremont says,
"The next morning we had a specimen of the false alarms to which all
parties in these wild regions are subject. Proceeding up the valley,
objects were seen on the opposite hills, which disappeared before a
glass could be brought to bear upon them. A man, who was a short
distance in the rear, came spurring up in great haste, shouting,
Indians! Indians! He had been near enough to see and count them,
according to his report, and had made out twenty-seven. I immediately
halted; arms were examined and put in order; the usual preparations
made; and Kit Carson, springing upon one of the hunting horses, crossed
the river, and galloped off into the opposite prairies, to obtain some
certain intelligence of their movements.
"Mounted on a fine horse, without a saddle, and scouring bareheaded over
the prairies, Kit was one of the finest pictures of a horseman I have
ever seen. A short time enabled him to discover that the Indian war
party of twenty-seven consisted of six elk, who had been gazing
curiously at our caravan as it passed by, and were now scampering off at
full speed. This was our first alarm, and its excitement broke agreeably
on the monotony of the day. At our noon halt, the men were exercised at
a target; and in the evening we pitched our tents at a Pawnee encampment
of last July. They had apparently killed buffalo here, as many bones
were lying about, and the frames where the hides had been stretched were
yet standing."
Leaving the fork of the "Blue," upon a high dividing ridge, in about
twenty-one miles they reached the coast of the Platte, or Nebraska River
as it is called, a line of low hills, or the break from the prairie to
the river bottom. Cacti here were numerous, and the _amorpha_,
remarkable for its large and luxuriant purple clusters, was in full
bloom. From the foot of the coast, two miles across the level bottom,
brought them to the shore of the river twenty miles below the head of
Grand Island, and more than three hundred from the mouth of the Kansas.
The elevation of the Platte valley here was about two thousand feet
above the level of the sea.
The next day they met a party of fourteen, who had started sixty days
before from Fort Laramie, in barges laden with furs for the American Fur
Company, hoping to come down the Platte without difficulty, as they left
upon the annual flood, and their boats drew only nine inches of water.
But at Scott's bluffs, one hundred and thirty miles below Fort Laramie,
the river became so broad and shallow, and the current so changeful
among the sandbars, that they abandoned their boats and _cached_ their
cargoes, and were making the rest of their journey to St. Louis on foot,
each with a pack as large as he could carry.
In the interchange of news, and the renewal of old acquaintanceships,
they found wherewithal to fill a busy hour. Among them Fremont had found
an old companion on the northern prairie, a hardened and hardly served
veteran of the mountains, who had been as much hacked and scarred as an
old _moustache_ of Napoleon's "old guard." He flourished in the
sobriquet of La Tulipe, and his real name no one knew. Finding that he
was going to the States only because his company was bound in that
direction, and that he was rather more willing to return with Fremont,
he was taken again into his service.
A few days more of travel, whose monotony was not relieved by any
incident worth narrating, brought the party in sight of the buffalo,
swarming in immense numbers over the plains, where they had left
scarcely a blade of grass standing. "Mr. Preuss," says Fremont, "who was
sketching at a little distance in the rear, had at first noted them as
large groves of timber. In the sight of such a mass of life, the
traveler feels a strange emotion of grandeur. We had heard from a
distance a dull and confused murmuring, and when we came in view of
their dark masses, there was not one among us who did not feel his heart
beat quicker. It was the early part of the day, when the herds are
feeding; and everywhere they were in motion. Here and there a huge old
bull was rolling in the grass, and clouds of dust rose in the air from
various parts of the bands, each the scene of some obstinate fight.
Indians and buffalo make the poetry and life of the prairie, and our
camp was full of their exhilaration. In place of the quiet monotony of
the march, relieved only by the cracking of the whip, and an '_avance
donc! enfant de garce!_' shouts and songs resounded from every part of
the line, and our evening camp was always the commencement of a feast,
which terminated only with our departure on the following morning. At
any time in the night might be seen pieces of the most delicate meat,
roasting _en appolas_, on sticks around the fire, and the guard were
never without company. With pleasant weather, and no enemy to fear, an
abundance of the most excellent meat, and no scarcity of bread or
tobacco, they were enjoying the oasis of a voyageur's life."
Three cows were killed on that day, but a serious accident befell Carson
in the course of the chase, which had nearly cost him his life. Kit had
shot one, and was continuing the chase, in the midst of another herd,
when his horse fell headlong, but sprang up and joined the flying band.
Though considerably hurt, he had the good fortune to break no bones; and
Maxwell, who was mounted on a fleet hunter, captured the runaway after a
hard chase. He was on the point of shooting him, to avoid the loss of
his bridle, (a handsomely mounted Spanish one,) when he found that his
horse was able to come up with him.
This mishap, however, did not deter Kit from his favorite pursuit of
buffalo hunting, for on the following day, notwithstanding his really
serious accident, we find him ready and eager for another chase. Fremont
in his narrative thus relates the occurrence:--
"As we were riding quietly along the bank, a grand herd of buffalo, some
seven or eight hundred in number, came crowding up from the river, where
they had been to drink, and commenced crossing the plain slowly, eating
as they went. The wind was favorable; the coolness of the morning
invited to exercise; the ground was apparently good, and the distance
across the prairie (two or three miles) gave us a fine opportunity to
charge them before they could get among the river hills. It was too fine
a prospect for a chase to be lost; and halting for a few moments, the
hunters were brought up and saddled, and Kit Carson, Maxwell, and I,
started together. They were now somewhat less than half a mile distant,
and we rode easily along until within about three hundred yards, when a
sudden agitation, a wavering in the band, and a galloping to and fro of
some which were scattered along the skirts, gave us the intimation that
we were discovered. We started together at a hard gallop, riding
steadily abreast of each other, and here the interest of the chase
became so engrossingly intense, that we were sensible to nothing else.
We were now closing upon them rapidly, and the front of the mass was
already in rapid motion for the hills, and in a few seconds the movement
had communicated itself to the whole herd.
"A crowd of bulls, as usual, brought up the rear, and every now and then
some of them faced about, and then dashed on after the band a short
distance, and turned and looked again, as if more than half inclined to
stand and fight. In a few moments, however, during which we had been
quickening our pace, the rout was universal, and we were going over the
ground like a hurricane. When at about thirty yards, we gave the usual
shout (the hunter's _pas de charge_), and broke into the herd. We
entered on the side, the mass giving way in every direction in their
heedless course. Many of the bulls, less active and less fleet than the
cows, paying no attention to the ground, and occupied solely with the
hunter, were precipitated to the earth with great force, rolling over
and over with the violence of the shock, and hardly distinguishable in
the dust. We separated on entering, each singling out his game.
[Illustration: "IN A FEW MOMENTS HE BROUGHT ME ALONG SIDE OF HER, AND
RISING IN THE STIRRUPS, I FIRED."]
"My horse was a trained hunter, famous in the west under the name of
Proveau, and with his eyes flashing, and the foam flying from his mouth,
sprang on after the cow like a tiger. In a few moments he brought me
alongside of her, and rising in the stirrups, I fired at the distance of
a yard, the ball entering at the termination of the long hair, and
passing near the heart. She fell headlong at the report of the gun, and,
checking my horse, I looked around for my companions.
"At a little distance, Kit was on the ground, engaged in tying his horse
to the horns of a cow which he was preparing to cut up. Among the
scattered bands, at some distance below, I caught a glimpse of Maxwell;
and while I was looking, a light wreath of white smoke curled away from
his gun, from which I was too far to hear the report. Nearer, and
between me and the hills, towards which they were directing their
course, was the body of the herd, and giving my horse the rein, we
dashed after them. A thick cloud of dust hung upon their rear, which
filled my mouth and eyes, and nearly smothered me. In the midst of this
I could see nothing, and the buffalo were not distinguishable until
within thirty feet.
"They crowded together more densely still as I came upon them, and
rushed along in such a compact body, that I could not obtain an
entrance--the horse almost leaping upon them. In a few moments the mass
divided to the right and left, the horns clattering with a noise heard
above everything else, and my horse darted into the opening.
"Five or six bulls charged on us as we dashed along the line, but were
left far behind; and singling out a cow, I gave her my fire, but struck
too high. She gave a tremendous leap, and scoured on swifter than
before. I reined up my horse, and the band swept on like a torrent, and
left the place quiet and clear. Our chase had led us into dangerous
ground. A prairie-dog village, so thickly settled that there were three
or four holes in every twenty yards square, occupied the whole bottom
for nearly two miles in length. Looking around, I saw only one of the
hunters, nearly out of sight, and the long dark line of our caravan
crawling along, three or four miles distant."
CHAPTER XVIII.
The encampment of the party on the 4th of July, was a few miles from
where the road crosses over to the north fork of the Platte, where a
grand dinner was prepared, toasts drank, and salutes fired; and it was
here Fremont decided to divide his party, wishing, himself, to explore
the south fork of the Platte, as far as St. Vrain's Fort; and taking
with him Maxwell and two others of his men, and the Cheyenne Indians,
whose village was upon this river, he left the rest of the party to
proceed under the direction of Clement Lambert up the north fork to Fort
Laramie, where they were to wait his arrival, as he intended to cross
the country between the two forts.
Buffalo were still plenty upon Fremont's route, and the Indians with him
made an unsuccessful attempt to lasso the leader of a drove of wild
horses, which they passed. They met a band of two or three hundred
Arapahoe Indians, and were only saved from an attack by Maxwell, who
secured a timely recognition from the old chief who led the party, which
proved to be from a village among whom he had resided as a trader, and
whose camp the chief pointed out to them some six miles distant. They
had come out to surround a band of buffalo which was feeding across the
river, and were making a large circuit to avoid giving them the wind,
when they discovered Fremont's party, whom they had mistaken for
Pawnees. In a few minutes the women came galloping up, astride of their
horses, and naked from their knees down, and the hips up. They followed
the men to assist in cutting up and carrying off the meat.
The wind was blowing directly across the river, and the chief having
requested Fremont to remain where he then was, to avoid raising the
herd, he readily consented, and having unsaddled their horses, they sat
down to view the scene. The day had become very hot, the thermometer
standing at 108°. The Indians commenced crossing the river, and as soon
as they were upon the other side, separated into two bodies.
Fremont thus describes this exciting hunt, or massacre, as the reader
may choose to designate it,--and his subsequent visit to the Arapahoe
village:
"One party proceeded directly across the prairie, towards the hills, in
an extended line, while the other went up the river; and instantly, as
they had given the wind to the herd, the chase commenced. The buffalo
started for the hills, but were intercepted and driven back toward the
river, broken and running in every direction. The clouds of dust soon
covered the whole scene, preventing us from having any but an occasional
view. It had a very singular appearance to us at a distance, especially
when looking with the glass.
"We were too far to hear the report of the guns, or any sound, and at
every instant, through the clouds of dust, which the sun made luminous,
we could see for a moment two or three buffalo dashing along, and close
behind them an Indian with his long spear, or other weapon, and
instantly again they disappeared. The apparent silence, and the dimly
seen figures flitting by with such rapidity, gave it a kind of dreamy
effect, and seemed more like a picture than a scene of real life.
"It had been a large herd when the _cerne_ commenced, probably three or
four hundred in number; but though I watched them closely, I did not
see one emerge from the fatal cloud where the work of destruction was
going on. After remaining here about an hour, we resumed our journey in
the direction of the village.
"Gradually, as we rode on, Indian after Indian came dropping along,
laden with meat; and by the time we had reached the lodges, the backward
road was covered with the returning horsemen. It was a pleasant contrast
with the desert road we had been traveling. Several had joined company
with us, and one of the chiefs invited us to his lodge.
"The village consisted of about one hundred and twenty-five lodges, of
which twenty were Cheyennes; the latter pitched a little apart from the
Arapahoes. They were disposed in a scattering manner on both sides of a
broad, irregular street, about one hundred and fifty feet wide, and
running along the river. As we rode along, I remarked near some of the
lodges a kind of tripod frame, formed of three slender poles of birch,
scraped very clean, to which were affixed the shield and spear, with
some other weapons of a chief. All were scrupulously clean, the spear
head was burnished bright, and the shield white and stainless. It
reminded me of the days of feudal chivalry; and when, as I rode by, I
yielded to the passing impulse, and touched one of the spotless shields
with the muzzle of my gun, I almost expected a grim warrior to start
from the lodge and resent my challenge.
"The master of the lodge spread out a robe for me to sit upon, and the
squaws set before us a large wooden dish of buffalo meat. He had lit his
pipe in the meanwhile, and when it had been passed around, we commenced
our dinner while he continued to smoke. Gradually, five or six other
chiefs came in, and took their seats in silence. When we had finished,
our host asked a number of questions relative to the object of our
journey, of which I made no concealment; telling him simply that I had
made a visit to see the country, preparatory to the establishment of
military posts on the way to the mountains.
"Although this was information of the highest interest to them, and by
no means calculated to please them, it excited no expression of
surprise, and in no way altered the grave courtesy of their demeanor.
The others listened and smoked. I remarked, that in taking the pipe for
the first time, each had turned the stem upward, with a rapid glance,
as in offering to the Great Spirit, before he put it in his mouth."
Riding near the river, Fremont and Maxwell had an interview with Jim
Beckwith, who had been chief of the Crow Indians, but had left them some
time before, and was now residing in this river bottom, with his wife, a
Spanish woman from Taos. They also passed a camp of four or five New
Englanders, with Indian wives--a party of independent trappers, and
reached St. Vrain's Fort on the evening of July 10th, where they were
hospitably entertained by Mr. St. Vrain, and received from him such
needed assistance as he was able to render. Maxwell was at home here, as
he had spent the last two or three years between the fort and Taos.
On the evening of the fifteenth, they arrived at Fort Laramie, a post of
the American Fur Company, near the junction of the Laramie Creek with
the Platte River, which had quite a military appearance, with its lofty
walls whitewashed and picketed, and large bastions at the angles. A
cluster of lodges belonging to the Sioux Indians was pitched under the
walls. He was received with great hospitality by the gentleman in charge
of the fort, Mr. Boudeau, having letters of introduction to him from
the company at St. Louis, and it is hardly necessary to say that he was
hospitably received and most kindly treated. He found Carson with the
party under his command camped on the bank near the fort, by whom they
were most warmly welcomed, and in the enjoyment of a bountiful supper,
which coffee and bread converted almost into a luxury, they forgot the
toils and sufferings of the past ten days.
The news brought by Mr. Preuss, who it will be remembered was with
Carson's party, was as exciting as it was unpleasant. He had learned
that the Sioux who had been badly disposed, had now broken out into open
hostility, and his informant, a well known trapper, named Bridger, had
been attacked by them, and had only defeated them after serious losses
on both sides. United with the Cheyennes and Gros Ventre Indians, they
were scouring the country in war parties, declaring war upon every
living thing which should pass the _Red Buttes_; their special hostility
being, however, directed against the white men. In fact the country was
swarming with hostile Indians, and it was but too evident that any party
who should attempt to enter upon the forbidden grounds, must do so at
the certain hazard of their lives. Of course such intelligence created
great commotion throughout the camp, and it formed the sole subject of
conversation and discussion during the evenings around the camp fires.
Speaking of this report, and the effect produced upon his men, Fremont
uses the following language:
"Carson, one of the best and most experienced mountaineers, fully
supported the opinion given by Bridger of the dangerous state of the
country, and openly expressed his conviction that we could not escape
without some sharp encounters with the Indians. In addition to this, he
made his will; and among the circumstances which were constantly
occurring to increase their alarm, this was the most unfortunate; and I
found that a number of my party had become so much intimidated that they
had requested to be discharged at this place."
Carson's apprehensions were fully justifi
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