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Title: The Life and Adventures of Kit Carson, the Nestor of the Rocky Mountains, from Facts Narrated by Himself
Author: De Witt C. Peters
Release Date: July 12, 2005 [eBook #16274]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF KIT CARSON, THE NESTOR OF THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS, FROM FACTS NARRATED BY HIMSELF***
W.H. TINSON, STEREOTYPER AND PRINTER,
Rear of 43 & 45 Centre Street, N.Y.
KIT AND HIS FAVORITE HORSE "APACHE."Dear Sir,
You were first among the brave mountaineers to discover and direct the manly energy, extraordinary natural ability, and unyielding courage which have attached to the subject of this volume; and, as among the first Americans who put foot on the Rocky Mountains, you are perhaps best acquainted with the history of the men, who, for fifty years, have lived there. Christopher Carson, after a long life, now crowned with successful and honorable achievements, still looks upon you, sir, as his earliest patron, and places your name on the list of his warmest friends. Through a life of unusual activity and duration, which, reflecting honor and renown upon your name, has given you a distinguished position among your countrymen, you have never been known to forget a duty to your fellow man.
For these considerations, the dedication of this volume to you cannot but appear appropriate. That he may continue to merit a place in your confidence and esteem is the earnest desire of
Sir:
We, the undersigned citizens of the Territory of New Mexico, have been acquainted with Mr. Christopher Carson for a number of years, indeed almost from the time of his first arrival in the country. We have been his companions both in the mountains and as a private citizen. We are also acquainted with the fact that for the past few months, during his leisure hours, he has been engaged dictating his life. This is, to our certain knowledge, the only authentic biography of himself and his travels that has ever been written. We heartily recommend THIS BOOK to the reading community for perusal, as it presents a life out of the usual routine of business, and is checkered with adventures which have tried this bold and daring man. We are cognizant of most of the details of the book, and vouch for their accuracy.
The pages here presented to the public form a book of facts. They unfold for the student, as does no other work yet extant, the great interior wilderness of the territories belonging to the United States. The scenic views, though plainly colored and wrought by the hand of an unpretending artist, inasmuch as they portray a part of the North American continent which is unsurpassed by any other country on the face of the earth, will not fail to interest the American public. In addition to this, the reader is introduced to an intimate acquaintance with the Indian races of the countries which He east and west of the Rocky Mountains. The savage warrior and hunter is presented, stripped of all the decorations with which writers of fiction have dressed him. He is seen in his ferocity and gentleness, in his rascality and nobility, in his boyhood, manhood, and old age, and in his wisdom and ignorance. The attentive reader will learn of his approximations to truth, his bundle of superstitions, his acts at home and on the war path, his success while following the buffalo and engaging the wild Rocky Mountain bear, that terror of the western wilderness. He will also behold him carrying devastation to the homes of the New Mexican settlers, and freely spilling their best blood to satiate a savage revenge. He will see him attacking and massacring parties of the white men traveling across the prairies, and trace him in his savage wars with the early settlers and frontiersmen.
In order to acquire these important data that they might be added to the pages of American history and form a reliable record, it was necessary that some brave, bold and determined man should become an actor on the scenes and among the races described. Such an actor has been, and yet is, Christopher Carson, the Nestor of the [pg 4] Rocky Mountains; and, it is the experience, as well as the acts, of his stirring life, which the following pages present.
In olden times there existed, in the Rocky Mountains, a race familiarly known by the name of "Trappers and Hunters." They are now almost extinct. Their history has not yet been written. Pen paintings, drawn from the imagination, founded upon distant views of their exploits and adventures, have occasionally served, as do legends, to "adorn a tale." The volume now offered to the public, gives their history as related by one whose name as a trapper and hunter of the "Far West," stands second to none; by a man, who, for fifteen years, saw not the face of a white woman, or slept under a roof; who, during those long years, with his rifle alone, killed over two thousand buffalo, between four and five thousand deer, antelope and elk, besides wild game, such as bears, wild turkeys, prairie chickens, etc., etc. in numbers beyond calculation. On account of their originality, daring and interest, the real facts, concerning this race of trappers and hunters, will be handed down to posterity as matters belonging to history.
As is the case with the Indian, the race of the "Simon Pure Trapper" is nearly run. The advance of civilization, keeping up its untiring march to the westward, is daily encroaching upon their wild haunts and bringing the day close at hand when warrior and trapper will depart forever to their "Happy Hunting Grounds."
With the extinction of the great fur companies, the trappers of "Olden Time" disbanded and separated.
The greatest number of these men, to be found at the present day, reside in the Territory of New Mexico; which, in the time of their prosperity, was the country where they located their head quarters. In this Territory, Christopher Carson now resides. His name, in the Rocky Mountains, has been familiarly known for more than a quarter of a century; and, from its association with the names of great explorers and military men, is now spread throughout the civilized world. It has been generally conceded, and the concession has become [pg 5] strengthened by time, that no small share of the benefits derived from these explorations and campaigns, as well as the safety of the commands themselves, was and is due to the sagacity, skill, experience, advice and labor of Christopher Carson. The exploring parties, and expeditions here referred to, are those which he accompanied in the capacity of chief guide and adviser.
His sober habits, strict honor, and great regard for truth, have endeared him to all who can call him friend; and, among such may be enumerated names belonging to some of the most distinguished men whose deeds are recorded on the pages of American history. His past life has been a mystery which this book will unveil. Instead of Kit Carson as by imagination—a bold braggart and reckless, improvident hero of the rifle—he will appear a retired man, and one who is very reserved in his intercourse with others. This fact, alone, will account for the difficulty which has hitherto attended presenting the public with an accurate history of his life.
A few years since, the writer of this work first met Christopher Carson. It needed neither a second introduction, nor the assistance of a friendly panegyric, to enable him to discover in Christopher Carson those traits of manhood, which are esteemed by the great and good to be distinguishing ornaments of character. This acquaintance ripened into a friendship of the purest stamp. Since then, the writer has been the intimate friend and, companion of Christopher Carson, at his home, in the wild scenes of the chase, on the war trail, and upon the field of battle. For a long period, in common with hundreds—and, we might with truth add, thousands, the writer has desired to see Christopher Carson's wonderful career made public for the world of readers; but, while this idea was germinating in his brain, he did not, for an instant, flatter himself that the pleasant task would ever be assigned to him. Finally, however, at the urgent solicitation of many personal friends, Christopher Carson dictated the facts upon which this book is written. They were then placed in the writer's hands, with instructions to add to them such information as had fallen under his [pg 6] observation, during quite extensive travels over a large part of the wide expanse of country, which has been Christopher Carson's theatre for action.
The book is a book of solid truth; therefore, the faults in the style, arrangement and composition, become affairs of minor consideration. For this reason, the writer makes no apologies to embarrass the critics.
Christopher Carson, physically, is small in stature, but of compact frame-work. He has a large and finely developed head, a twinkling grey eye, and hair of a sandy color, which he wears combed back à la Franklin mode. His education having been much neglected in his youth, he is deficient in theoretical learning. By natural abilities, however, he has greatly compensated for this defect. He speaks the French and Spanish languages fluently, besides being a perfect master of several Indian dialects. In Indian customs, their manners, habits and the groundwork of their conduct, no man on the American continent is better skilled.
The writer, while on a foreign tour, once had the opportunity and pleasure of hearing Gordon Cumming and other hunters of less note, discourse on their hunting exploits; furthermore, in our own country, while seated around camp-fires and in log houses, he has listened to the adventures of ancient and modern Nimrods in the chase; besides these facts, he has both seen and read much of hunting exploits; but, no hunter ever filled his fancy so perfectly, as does Christopher Carson, a man who acts and never boasts.
Without further comment, the reader is presented with the work, while the writer cherishes the hope, that the facts, which for the first time are given to the world, will prove to be both interesting and important as jottings of history.
The author begs leave to return to his friend, C. Hatch Smith, A.M., of Brooklyn, New York, his acknowledgment for valuable assistance in revising, correcting and arranging his manuscript.
196 Twenty-third street, New York.
[pg 7]| Carson's Birthplace—His Emigration to Missouri—Early Prospects—Is an Apprentice—Stories of the Rocky Mountains—He Enlists to go there—Adventures on the Prairies—Broaders is Wounded—Carson's Nerve put to the Test—Rude Amputation—Safe Arrival at Santa Fé—Goes to Taos and learns the Spanish Language—Early Vicissitudes—Disappointment and Attempt to return to Missouri—Is employed as an Interpreter, Teamster, etc., | 13 |
| The news of the Defeat of Mr. Young's Trapping Party by the Indians reaches Taos—Young raises a Party to chastise the Indians—Kit Carson becomes a Conspicuous Member of the Expedition—The Indians are found on Salt River—The Fight—Trapping Exploits—A new Country—Trials and Vicissitudes—Sacramento Valley—California and its Roman Catholic Missions in 1829—Another Indian Fight—Sale of Furs—Indian Depredations—Kit Carson and Twelve Trappers engage with the Indians in a Battle—Return to the Camp with recovered Property, | 30 |
| The Return from California to New Mexico—San Fernando and the Peublo of Los Angelos—Description of these Peublos—Passports demanded at Los Angelos—Trouble with the Mexican Authorities—Kit Carson sent on with the Pack Animals—One Trapper shoots another—The Mexicans become frightened—Indians come into Camp with their Weapons concealed—Cool Reception, by Kit Carson—Arrival at Santa Fé and Taos—Money realized soon parted with—Carson joins another Expedition—The Rivers trapped on—Four Men Killed by Blackfeet Indians—Kit Carson joins Gaunt's Party—The Parks—Winter Quarters—Crow Indian Depredations—Kit Carson and his Party in Pursuit—the Fight—Winter on the [pg 8] Arkansas—Another Expedition—Two Deserters—Kit Carson sent in Pursuit—The Fate of the Runaways—Adventures with Indians—Hair-breadth Escape made by Kit Carson, | 42 |
| Kit Carson and two Companions plan a Hunt for themselves—The Great Success met with—Return to Taos—Sale of the Beaver Fur—Kit Carson joins Captain Lee and goes on a Trading Expedition—Winter Quarters—Kit Carson is sent in Pursuit of a Thief—Overtakes and is obliged to shoot the Runaway—Property recovered—The Return to Camp—The Sale of Goods—Kit Carson joins Fitzpatrick and Party—Kit Carson organizes a Hunting Party—His Encounter with two Grizzly Bears—The Summer Rendezvous—Kit Carson joins fifty Trappers and goes to the Country of the Blackfeet Indians—Annoyances received from these Indians—Winter Quarters in 1832—Horses Stolen—Kit Carson and eleven Men in Pursuit—A Parley—A Fight—Kit Carson severely wounded—His great Sufferings and Fortitude—His Convalescence—The Retreat—A New Expedition—A Braggadocio—Kit Carson Fights a Duel and Wounds his man—Duels in the Rocky Mountains in Olden Times, | 68 |
| The Fall Hunt—McCoy of the Hudson's Bay Company organizes a Trapping Party which Kit Carson joins—The Hunt—Scarcity of Beaver on Humboldt River—The Party is divided—Kit Carson with a majority of the Men goes to Fort Hall—Hardships and Privations met with—Buffalo Hunt—All their Animals stolen in the Night by a Party of Blackfeet Indians—Arrival of McCoy from Fort Walla Walla—The Rendezvous—Kit Carson joins a strong Band—The Small Pox among the Blackfeet Indians—The Crow Indians on good terms with the Whites—Intense Cold—Immense Herds of Buffalo—Danger of their goring to death the Horses—The Spring Hunt—The Blackfeet Indian Village overtaken—A desperate Fight with these Indians—The Rendezvous—Sir William Stuart and a favorite Missionary—Kit Carson goes on a Trading Expedition to the Navajoe Indians—The Return—He accepts the post of Hunter of the Trading Post at Brown's Hole, | 106 |
| Bridger and Carson trapping on the Black Hills—The Main Camp—The Rendezvous—Winter Quarters on the Yellow Stone—Carson with forty men in a desperate fight with the Blackfeet Indians—A Council—Sentinel posted—One Thousand Warriors come to punish the Trappers—The War Dance—The Courage of the Savages deserts them—Winter Quarters—The Spring Hunt—Another Fight with the Blackfeet—Continued Annoyances—The Trappers abandon the Country—The Rocky Mountains and Alps compared—Other Trapping Expeditions—Beaver becoming scarce—Prices of Fur reduced—Kit Carson and the Trappers give up their Vocation—The Journey to Bent's Fort—Mitchell the Mountaineer—His Eccentricities, | 127 |
| Kit Carson is employed as Hunter to Bent's Fort—His Career for Eight Years—Messrs. Bent and St. Vrain—The commencement of his Acquaintance with John C. Fremont on a Steamboat—Is employed as a Guide by the Great Explorer—The Journey—Arrival at Fort Laramie—Indian Difficulties—The business of the Expedition completed—Return to Fort Laramie—Kit Carson goes to Taos and is married—He is employed as Hunter to a Train of Wagons bound for the States—Meeting with Captain Cook and four companies of U.S. Dragoons on Walnut Creek—Mexicans in Trouble—Kit Carson carries a Letter for them to Santa Fé—Indians on the Route—His safe Arrival—Amijos' advance Guard massacred by the Texians—The one Survivor—The Retreat—Kit Carson returns to Bent's Fort—His Adventures with the Utahs and narrow escape from Death—The Texians disarmed—The Express Ride performed, | 147 |
| Kit Carson visits Fremont's Camp—Goes on the Second Exploring Expedition—The Necessary Arrangements—Trip to Salt Lake—Explorations there—Carson is dispatched to Fort Hall for Supplies—Their Operations at Salt Lake—The Great Island—The Journey to the Columbia River in Oregon—Incidents on the Route—Tlamath Lake—The Journey to California—The Trials and Privations met with while crossing the Sierra Nevada Mountains—Mr. Preuss is lost but finds the Party again—Arrival at Sutter's Fort in a Destitute Condition—Two of the Party become deranged—The Route on the Return Trip—Mexicans come into their Camp asking Aid and Protection—Indian Depredations—Carson and Godey start on a Daring Adventure—The Pursuit—The Thieves overtaken—These Two White Men attack Thirty Indians—The Victory—Horses retaken—The Return to Camp—One of their Companions killed—The Journey continued—Arrival at Bent's Fort—The "Fourth of July" Dinner, | 178 |
| Kit Carson concludes to become a Farmer—He is joined in the Enterprise by a Friend—They build a Ranche on the Cimeron River—Descriptions of Mexican Customs and Country—Fremont once more at Bent's Fort—Express sent for Kit Carson to join the Expedition as Guide—The Ranche Sold, and the Departure—The Third Expedition and its Explorations—Difficulties with the Mexican-Californians—General Castro's Orders to leave the Country—Determination to Fight—Fremont goes to Lawson's Fort—Fremont and his Men encounter a Thousand Indians—The Battle and the Victory—The news that War had been declared between the United States and Mexico reaches Fremont—Lieutenant Gillespie rescued from the Indians—Three of the party killed in the Night by Indians—The Savages repulsed—The Burial of Comrades, | 232 |
| Fremont en route for California—His men are anxious to punish the Tlamath Indians—Kit Carson, in command of ten Men, is sent on ahead to reconnoitre—He discovers the main Village of these Indians—The Attack and the Victory—Beautiful Lodges—The Trophies mostly destroyed—Fremont saves Kit Carson's Life—The Journey resumed—The Sacramento Valley—An Indian Ambuscade—One Savage defies the Party—Kit Carson shoots him—The Tlamath Indians still on the War Path—Another Lesson given to them—A Thief is shot—Arrival at Lawson's Trading Post—A period of Inactivity—A Detachment sent to capture Sonoma—Prisoners taken—The Mexicans come to punish the Americans—Their Courage deserts them—The Retreat—The Pursuit—Fremont goes to Sutter's Fort and establishes a Military Post—Monterey is taken by the American Squadron—Fremont marches there—Further Operations—The taking of Los Angelos, | 261 |
| Kit Carson is sent Overland as Bearer of Dispatches to Washington—The Preparation and the Start—The Journey—Privations and Sufferings—Meeting with General Kearney—The General takes Carson as his Guide and sends on the Dispatches by Fitzpatrick—The March—Arrival at Warner's Ranche—Mexicans on the Road—Preparations for a Battle—The Battle—Disastrous Consequences—Kit Carson and Lieutenant Beale offer to run the lines of the Mexican Sentinels and carry Information to San Diego of Kearney's critical position—The Daring Undertaking—The Sufferings they encountered—Their Arrival—Reinforcements sent out—Lieutenant Beale is Delirious from the Privations he has undergone—Gen. Kearney and his Command finally reach and join the other American Forces in California, | 274 |
| A Command of Six Hundred Men is sent against Los Angelos—The Mexican Army evacuates the Town—Its Capture—Rumors of an Attack to be made on Fremont's Command—The Mexicans surrender—The Winter Quarters—Kit Carson is ordered to carry Dispatches overland to Washington—Lieutenant Beale accompanies him—A Night Attack made by the Indians—Arrival in the United States—Kit Carson's Introduction to Col. Benton and Mrs. Fremont—Hospitality offered to him at Washington—Kit Carson receives the Appointment of Lieutenant in the Rifle Corps of the U.S. Army from President Polk—He is ordered to carry Dispatches to California—The Journey—A Brush with the Camanche Indians—Arrival at Santa Fé—More trouble with hostile Indians—Arrival at Los Angelos—Dispatches delivered—Kit Carson is assigned to do Duty with the Dragoons—Is ordered to Guard Tajon Pass—The Winter spent there—Is ordered again to carry Dispatches to Washington—The Journey and its Adventures—The return to New Mexico, | 297 |
| Kit Carson at his Home—The Apache Indians become hostile—An Expedition sent against them—It is not successful—Another is organized, with which, Kit Carson goes as Guide—Two Indian Chiefs captured—Other Incidents of the Trip—Colonel Beall attempts to force the Indians to give up Mexican Captives—Two thousand Savages on the Arkansas River—The Visit to them—Kit Carson emigrates and builds a Ranche at Rayado—Description of the Valley—The Massacre of a Santa Fé Merchant—His Wife is made Prisoner—The Expedition sent to rescue her—The Indians overtaken—Bad Counsel and Management—The commanding Officer wounded—Mrs. White's Body found—Severe Snow-storm on the Plains—One Man frozen to Death—Kit Carson returns to Rayado—The occupation of a Farmer resumed—The Apaches steal from the Settlers nearly all their Animals—Kit Carson with thirteen others in the Pursuit—The Surprise—A running Fight—The Animals recovered—A gallant Sergeant and his Fate—Kit Carson and Goodel go on a Trading Expedition to meet California Emigrants at Fort Laramie—Humorous Adventures—The Dangers that beset the Road to New Mexico—Hair-breadth Escape—Arrival at Taos, | 322 |
| Kit Carson reaches Home—Himself and Neighbors robbed by the Apaches—Major Grier goes in Pursuit of, and recaptures the stolen Stock—A Plot organized by White Men to murder two Santa Fé Traders for their Money—The Disclosure—Kit Carson goes to the Rescue of the Traders—The Camp of United States Recruits—Captain Snell with twenty Men joins Kit Carson and they two make the Arrest of Fox—Gratitude expressed by the Traders—Money offered but refused—The Prisoner taken to Taos and incarcerated—Kit Carson receives a magnificent Pair of Revolvers as a Present from the grateful Traders—The return to Rayado—A Trading Expedition to the United States—The return Journey—An Encounter with the Cheyenne Indians—A State of Suspense—The Deliverance from Danger by a Message sent by a Mexican Runner—The arrival at Rayado, | 361 |
| Kit Carson's last Trapping Expedition—He embarks in a Speculation—His Trip to California with a large Flock of Sheep—The Method employed by Mexicans in driving Herds and their Dexterity—Kit Carson goes to San Francisco—Its wonderful Growth—Maxwell joins Kit Carson at Sacramento City—The Lucky Speculation—The Return Trip to New Mexico and its Adventures—The Mormon Delegate to Congress informs Kit Carson of his Appointment as Indian Agent—Kit Carson enters upon the Duties of his Office—Bell's Fight with the Apaches on Red River—Kit Carson's Interview with the same Indian—High-handed Measures on the Part of the Apaches—Davidson's desperate Fight with them—The Soldiers defeated with severe loss—Davidson's Bravery is unjustly questioned—Kit Carson's Opinion of it—The Apaches elated by their Victory—Their Imitations of the Actions of Military Men, | 389 |
| A fresh Campaign set on foot—Col. Cook in Command—Kit Carson goes as Guide—The Apaches and Utahs leagued together—The Roughness of the Country and the Privations to which the Command was exposed—The Indians overhauled—A running Fight—The Advantages gained—The Chase resumed—The Apaches resort to their old Tricks—Col. Cook is obliged to return to Abiquiu—A Utah taken Prisoner through Mistake—Kit Carson goes to Taos and has a Conference with the Chiefs of the Utah Nation—Cook's second Scout—He is caught in a furious Snow-storm and obliged to return to Rio Colorado—Major Brooks and Reinforcements come to the Rescue—Major Brooks on the Lookout, but fails to find the Indians—Carleton's Expedition—Kit Carson goes with it as Guide—The Adventures met with—Kit Carson's Prophecy comes true—The Muache Band of Utahs summoned by Kit Carson to a Grand Council—Troubles brewing among these Indians—The Small Pox carries off their Head Men, | 434 |
| The Commencement of a formidable Indian War—High-handed Measures on the Part of the Indians—The Governor of New Mexico raises five hundred Mexican Volunteers and places them under the Command of Colonel St. Vrain—Colonel Fauntleroy placed in Command of all the Forces—Kit Carson is chosen as Chief Guide—The Campaign commenced—The Trail found—The Indians are met and the first Fight and its Consequences—An Excitement in Camp—The Indians again overtaken—The return to Fort Massachusetts—Intense Cold Weather experienced—The Second Campaign—Colonel Fauntleroy surprises the Main Camp of the Enemy—The War and Scalp Dance broken up—Terrible Slaughter of the Indians—The Great Amount of Plunder taken and destroyed—Another small Party of Indians surprised and routed—St. Vrain equally fortunate in his Campaign—The Indians sue for Peace—The Council held and Treaties signed—Kit Carson opposes the making of them—The poor Protection Indian Treaties usually afford to Settlers—Kit Carson's House at Taos and his Indian Friends—His Attachment for his Family put to the test—Cowardice of a Mexican—Kit Carson's Friends as they look upon him—His influence over Indians—General remarks—Conclusion, | 466 |
Carson's Birthplace—His Emigration to Missouri—Early Prospects—Is an Apprentice—Stories of the Rocky Mountains—He Enlists to go there—Adventures on the Prairies—Broaders is Wounded—Carson's Nerve put to the Test—Rude Amputation—Safe Arrival at Santa Fé—Goes to Taos and learns the Spanish Language—Early Vicissitudes—Disappointment and Attempt to return to Missouri—Is employed as an Interpreter, Teamster, etc.
It is now a well-established fact, that no State in the American Union has given birth to so many distinguished pioneers and explorers of its boundless Territories, as the commonwealth of Kentucky. An Author, whose task is to tell of a Hero, his bravery, endurance, privations, integrity, self-denial and deeds of daring, carries the morale with which to gain at once for these characteristics the assent of the reader, by the simple assertion, "My Hero was born a Kentuckian." Indeed, in America, to be a native of the State of Kentucky, is to inherit all the attributes of a brave man, a safe counsellor and a true friend. It is, at least, certain that this State, whether the fact is due to its inland and salubrious climate, or to its habits of physical training, has added many a Hero unto humanity.
[pg 14]Christopher Carson, by his countrymen familiarly called "Kit Carson," was born in the County of Madison, State of Kentucky, on the 24th day of December, 1809. The Carson family were among the first settlers of Kentucky, and became owners of fine farms. Besides being an industrious and skillful farmer, the father of Kit Carson was a celebrated hunter. When the Indians of Kentucky became quieted down, putting an end to the calls upon his courage and skill as a woodsman, he settled into a simple, respectable farmer. This monotonous life did not suit his disposition; and, as the tide of emigration into the wilds of Missouri was then commencing, where both game and the red man still roamed, he resolved to migrate in that direction. It was only one year after the birth of his son Christopher, that Mr. Carson sold his estate in Kentucky and established himself, with his large family, in that part of the State of Missouri now known as Howard County. At this time Howard County, Missouri, was a wilderness, on the remote American frontier. At his new home, the father was in his element. His reputation of carrying an unerring rifle and always enacting the deeds of a brave man, was not long in following him into this wilderness. Mr. Carson's only assistant, on his first arrival in Howard County, was his eldest son, Moses Carson, who was afterwards settled in the State of California, where he resided twenty-five years before the great California gold discovery was made.
For two or three years after arriving at their new home, the Carson family, with a few neighbors, lived in a picketed log fort; and when they were engaged in [pg 15] agricultural pursuits, working their farms, and so forth, it was necessary to plough, sow and reap under guard, men being stationed at the sides and extremities of their fields to prevent the working party from being surprised and massacred by wild and hostile savages who infested the country. At this time the small pox, that disease which has proved such a terrible scourge to the Indian, had but seldom visited him.1
The incidents which enliven and add interest to the [pg 16] historic page, have proved of spontaneous and vigorous growth in the new settlements of America. Nearly every book which deals with the early planting and progress of the American colonists and pioneers, contains full, and frequently glowing, descriptions of exploits in the forest; strifes of the hunter; fights with the savages; fearful and terrible surprises of lurking warriors, as they arouse the brave settler and his family from their midnight dreams by the wild, death-announcing war-whoop; hair-breadth escapes from the larger kinds of game, boldly bearded in their lair; the manly courage which never yields, but surmounts every obstacle presented by the unbroken and boundless forest; all these are subjects and facts which have already so many counterparts in book-thought, accessible to the general reader, that their details may be safely omitted during the boyhood days of young Carson. It is better, therefore, to pass over the youthful period of his eventful life, until he began to ripen into manhood.
Kit Carson, at fifteen years of age, was no ordinary person. He had at this early age earned, and well earned, a reputation, on the basis of which the prediction was ventured in his behalf, that he would not fail to make and leave a mark upon the hearts of his countrymen. Those who knew him at the age of fifteen, hesitated not to say, "Kit Carson is the boy who will grow into a man of influence and renown."
The chief points of his character which elicited this prediction were thus early clearly marked. Some of his traits were kindness and good qualities of heart, determined perseverance, indomitable will, unflinching courage, [pg 17] great quickness and shrewdness of perception, and promptitude in execution. The predictions uttered by the hardy rangers of the forest concerning a boy like Carson are seldom at fault; and Kit was one who, by many a youthful feat worthy the muscle of riper years, had endeared himself to their honest love. It was among such men and for such reason, that Kit Carson thus early in life had won the influence and rewards of a general favorite.
His frame was slight, below the medium stature, closely knit together, and endowed with extraordinary elasticity. He had, even then, stood the test of much hard usage. What the body lacked in strength was more than compensated for by his indomitable will; consequently, at this early age, he was considered capable of performing a frontier man's work, both in tilling the soil and handling the rifle.
It was at this period of his eventful life that his father, acting partially under the advice of friends, determined that his son Kit should learn a trade. A few miles from Kit's forest home, there lived a Mr. David Workman, a saddler. To him he was apprenticed. With Mr. Workman young Carson remained two years, enjoying both the confidence and respect of his employer; but, mourning over the awl, the hide of new leather, the buckle and strap; for, the glorious shade of the mighty forest; the wild battle with buffalo and bear; the crack of the unerring rifle, pointed at the trembling deer. Saddlery is an honorable employment; but saddlery never made a greater mistake than when it strove to hitch to its traces the bold impulse, the wild yearning, the sinewy muscle [pg 18] of Kit Carson. Harness-making was so irksome to his ardent temperament and brave heart, that he resolved to take advantage of the first favorable opportunity and quit it forever. With him, to resolve has ever been followed by action. During the latter part of his stay with Mr. Workman, many stories of adventures in the Rocky Mountains reached the ear of the youthful Kentuckian in his Missouri home. The almost miraculous hyperbole which flavored the narratives were not long in awakening in his breast a strong desire to share in such stirring events. The venturesome mind at last became inspired. He determined to go; and, giving his restless spirit full sway, in 1826, joined a party bound for his boyish fancy-pictures of the Elysian Fields. The leader of this expedition required no second request from young Carson before enrolling his name on the company-list. The hardy woodsman saw stamped upon the frank and open countenance of the boy who stood before him those sterling qualities which have since made his name a household word. These formed a passport which, on the spot, awakened the respect and unlocked the hearts of those whose companionship he sought.
The work of preparation was now commenced by the different parties to the expedition. All of the arrangements having been finally completed, the bold and hardy band soon started upon their journey. Their route lay over the vast, and then unexplored territory, bounded by the Rocky Mountains on the one side, and the Missouri River on the other. Before them lay, stretched out in almost never-ending space, those great prairies, the half of which are still unknown to the white man. [pg 19] Crossing the plains in 1826 was an entirely different feat from what it is at this day. Where, then, were the published guides? Where were the charts indicating the eligible camping grounds with their springs of pure water? These oases of the American Sahara were not yet acquainted with the white man's foot. The herds of buffaloes, the droves of wild horses, knew not the crack of the white man's rifle. They had fled only at the approach of the native Indian warrior and the yearly fires of the prairie. It was a difficult task to find a man who had gazed on the lofty peaks of the mountain ranges which formed a serpentine division of the vast American Territories, or who had drank the waters at the camping places on the prairies. The traveller at that day was, in every force of meaning which the word extends, literally, an explorer, whose chosen object was the task of a hero. The Indians themselves could give no information of the route beyond the confined limits of their hunting ranges. The path which this pioneer party entered was existent only in the imagination of the book-making geographer, about as accurate and useful from its detail, as the route of Baron Munchausen to the icelands of the North Pole on the back of his eagle. The whole expanse of the rolling prairie, to those brave hearts, was one boundless uncertainty. This language may possibly be pronounced redundant. It may be in phrase; it is not in fact. The carpet-knight, the holiday ranger, the book-worm explorer, knows but little of the herculean work which has furnished for the world a practical knowledge of the western half of the North American continent. We shall see in the progress of this work whether the adventures [pg 20] of Kit Carson entitle him to a place in the heart of the American nation on the same shelf with his compeers.
In that day, the fierce red-man chief scoured the broad prairies, a petty king in his tribe, a ruler of his wild domain. Bold, haughty, cautious, wily, unrelenting, revengeful, he led his impassioned warriors in the chase and to battle. Even to-day, the lurking Indian foeman is no mean adversary to be laughed and brushed out of the way, notwithstanding disease, war, assassination and necessary chastisement have united rapidly to decimate his race, thereby gradually lessening its power. Thirty years ago the rolling plains were alive with them, and their numbers alone made them formidable. It is not strange that the untutored savages of the prairie, like those of their race who hailed with ungovernable curiosity the landing of the Pilgrims on Plymouth Rock, should have been attracted by the wonderful inventions of the white-man intruder. A very short period of time served to turn this ungovernable curiosity into troublesome thieving. Knowing no law but their wild traditionary rules, they wrested from the adventurous pioneer, his rifle, knife, axe, wagon, harness, horse, powder, ball, flint, watch, compass, cooking utensils, and so forth. The result was, sanguinary engagements ensued, which led to bitter hostility between the two races. Doubtless the opinion may be controverted, but it nevertheless shall be hazarded, that, until the weaker party shall be exterminated by the stronger, the wild war-whoop, with its keen-edged knife and death-dealing rifle accompaniments, will continue, from time to time, to palsy the [pg 21] nerve, and arouse the courage of the pioneer white man. The Indian, in his attack, no longer showers cloth-yard arrows upon his foe. He has learned to kill his adversary with the voice of thunder and the unseen bullet.
The bold traveller, whose pathway lies over those great highroads which lead to the Pacific, must still watch for the red man's ambush by day; and, by night, sleep under the protecting vigilance of the faithful, quick-sighted sentinel. The savage never forgives his own or his ancestor's foe. Every generation of them learns from tradition the trials and exploits of its tribe. From earliest boyhood these form the burden of their education in history; and, on performing the feat of courage or strength which admits them to the councils of the braves, their nation's wrongs are uppermost in their thoughts, causing them to thirst for a revenge which sooner or later gives them a grave, making themselves, in turn, an object of revenge.
It has already appeared that when Kit Carson entered upon his first expedition, game was to be had in abundance. His route lay across the western wilds to Santa Fé. All this distance the bulk of provisions, consisting of a small quantity of flour and bacon, had to be transported by himself and his companions. These articles were kept as a reserve, and were looked upon as luxuries; for, that man was estimated to be a very poor shot who could not obtain, with his rifle, all the animal food he required for his individual sustenance. These hunters, however, well understood the laws which govern and the advantages which follow division of labor. Everything was so arranged, both for this and [pg 22] subsequent expeditions, by which a regular hunter was appointed, and each man assigned some particular duty according to his capacity. These appointments were usually made by the leader of the party, whose supervision was acknowledged by general consent on account of his known experience and capability. This plan was the more necessary in order to avoid confusion.
The caravan had hardly launched out on its long and tedious tramp, when an accident occurred which came very near proving serious in its results. For several days the men had been greatly annoyed by wolves who appeared more than usually ravenous and bold.2
In order to frighten the wolves, the teamsters would [pg 23] occasionally shoot them. One of the members of the expedition was obliged to take a fresh rifle from a wagon. In taking the gun out, the hammer of the lock caught against some projecting object, which caused it to be partially set. Having become freed, however, before it was fully set, it came down and fired the gun. The contents of the barrel were sent through the man's arm. No member of the expedition was conversant with surgical knowledge. Here was an occasion to shake the nerves of any feeling man; and, beneath the rough exterior of the western ranger, there runs as deep a stream of true humanity as can be found anywhere on the American continent. Every suggestion was offered and every effort was put forth which heart feeling chained to anxiety and the terrible necessity, could offer. Every remedy which promised a good result was duly weighed; and, if pronounced worthy of trial, it was adopted. The sufferer had kind, though rough nurses; but, the absence of scientific skill, under such emergency, proved a sad want for the unfortunate man. Notwithstanding their united efforts, Broader's arm grew alarmingly worse. It soon became manifest to all that he must part with his arm, or lose his life; perhaps both. At this critical period, a consultation was held, in which the suffering patient joined. Due deliberation was extended to all the symptoms. The giving of advice in such a council by men who could only give judgment from an imaginary stand-point, must strike the heart of true sympathy as having been painful in no ordinary degree. After every possible argument had been offered in favor of saving the arm, the final decision of the [pg 24] council was that it must come off. The next difficulty which presented itself was quite as formidable as the expression of a correct judgment. Who should perform the office of surgeon, was the knotty question? Again the consultations became exciting and intensely painful. The members of the council, however, took it upon themselves to designate the persons, and chose Carson with two others. These immediately set at work to execute their sad but necessary task. The arrangements were all hastily, but carefully made, and the cutting begun. The instruments used were a razor, an old saw; and, to arrest the hemorrhage, the king bolt taken from one of the wagons was heated and applied to serve as an actual cautery. The operation, rudely performed, with rude instruments, by unpractised hands, excited to action only by the spur of absolute necessity, proved, nevertheless, entirely successful. Before the caravan arrived at Santa Fé the patient had so far recovered that he was able to take care of himself.
Besides this unfortunate affair, nothing worthy of note transpired, beyond the general record of their route, during the remainder of their journey. The latter would be too voluminous for the general reader, and has already served its purpose as an assistant to other exploring parties, both from published account and conversational directions. The party entered Santa Fé in the month of November. Very soon after, Kit Carson left his companions and proceeded to Fernandez de Taos, a Mexican town, which lies about eighty miles to the northeast of the capital of New Mexico. During the winter that followed his arrival in the territory of New Mexico, [pg 25] Kit lived with an old mountaineer by the name of Kin Cade, who very kindly offered him a home. It was at this period of his life that he commenced studying the Spanish language. His friend Kin Cade became his assistant in this task. At the same time Kit neglected no opportunity to learn all he could about the Rocky Mountains. He little thought, then, that these earth-formed giants were to become his future home, and so gloriously to herald his name throughout the entire civilized globe.
The pinching effects of want now attacked poor Kit. He could obtain no employment. His expectations in this respect, as well as his earnest efforts, received so little encouragement that he began, finally, to despond. Extreme poverty is a wet damper on the fires of the best genius; but, as was the case with Kit, it does not effectually put it out. Kit saw with sorrow that he must retrace his steps. To obtain means to carry out his ardent desires, in the spring of 1827 he started on a backward trip to Missouri. Every step he took in this direction was accompanied with such displeasure, that had it not been his best and surest policy, he would have mastered any difficulties of another and better course, had such offered. Four hundred and fifty miles from Santa Fé, being about one half the distance across the prairies, had been accomplished by the party Kit had joined for this homeward trip. The fording of the Arkansas River had been reached. Here Kit's party met with some traders bound for New Mexico. They offered him employment, which he gladly accepted; and, in their company, retraced his steps back to Santa Fé But when [pg 26] arrived at Santa Fé, Kit found himself again without money. He was afforded an opportunity to obtain a wardrobe, but to the mountaineer, such property would be entirely a superfluity. He feels nearly independent on the score of clothing, as he considers that he needs but little raiment, and that little he is always proud to owe to his beloved rifle. This brings to his hand buckskins in plenty, and his own ingenuity is the fashion-plate by which they are manufactured into wearable and comfortable vesture. There is one article of clothing, however, for which the frontiersman feels an ardent predilection. It is a woollen shirt. This article, Kit really needed; and, in equal pace with his necessity, ran his anxiety that something should offer by which to obtain one. The reader may smile at this; and, so does Kit at this day, as he recounts the fact in his own inimitable style. But Kit says that to obtain a woollen shirt then, was, to him, no laughing matter. At a moment when he almost despaired of gaining employment, he received an offer to go as a teamster with an expedition bound to El Paso. This opportunity was a chance for success not to be lost, and he closed with the proposition. After faithfully performing his engagement, he, however, returned to Santa Fé, where he made a short stay, and then proceeded to Taos. In this town Kit entered into the service of Mr. Ewing Young, who was a trader and trapper. The reader may prepare again for a smile, as he will now learn that Kit became a cook. Mr. Ewing Young has the satisfaction of boasting that the renowned Kit Carson once performed the responsible and arduous duties of a master cook in the culinary department of his establishment; [pg 27] and that, for these valuable services, labor, care and diligence, he gave to Kit, as a quid pro quo, his board. In this way Kit supported himself in his straitened circumstances until the following spring.
What was the bright thought which made the bold, the ardent, the energetic Kit Carson accept this menial office? Surely the brain metal which was so brightly polished when he set out from Howard county, Missouri, must have been sadly rusted. Not so! The hope which buoyed up his spirits while he attempted to rival French pastry and English beef with American venison and Buffalo meat on the table of Mr. Ewing Young, was that some trapper, or hunter, would come into Taos, their favorite place of resort; and, by being ready for an emergency, he would obtain an opportunity for gaining a permission to join them. His intention was certainly good, but it lacked the bright crown of good intention—success. In the spring of 1828, much chagrined with his, so far, continued bad luck, and no prospect of gaining his object appearing, he again joined a homeward-bound party and with it, sorrowfully, started for Missouri. But, as on the former trip homeward, he met on the route a party bound for Santa Fé. That indomitable ingredient in his composition, an iron will, caused him once more to turn his face westward. He joined this party and returned to Santa Fé, in order again to tempt fortune for an opportunity to reach the Rocky Mountains. But during all these changes and counterchanges Kit had not been idle. He had picked up considerable knowledge, and, to his other stock of accomplishments, had added the ability to speak the Spanish language.
[pg 28]On arriving once more at Santa Fé, he fell in with Col. Tramell, who was at that time a well-known trader. Col Tramell needed a Spanish interpreter. Kit obtained the post, and set out with him for Chihuahua, one of the Mexican States. Here again Kit made a change in his employment. In Chihuahua he fell in with Mr. Robert McKnight. To him he hired out as a teamster, and in this capacity went to the copper mines which are found near to the Rio Gila. Amid the weary necessities of this humble but honorable calling, Kit's heart was constantly alive with ambition to become a hunter and trapper. He knew that he was expert with the rifle, which had been his boyish toy, and felt confident that he could rely upon it as an assistant to gain an honest living. His constant thought at this time was, let him now be engaged in whatever calling chance offered and necessity caused him to accept, the final pursuit of his life would be as a hunter and trapper. Here, then, is presented a fair example of the strife, both inward and outward, through which a young man of courage and ambition must expect to pass before he can win position, influence, and the comforts of life, whatever the scene of his action, or whatever the choice of employment suitable to his talent and genius. Kit Carson was determined, no matter what might be the obstacles which presented themselves, to be a hunter and trapper.
The reader will have made a sad mistake if he has concluded, that during the time which has intervened since Kit started from Missouri, he has been roaming in a country where there was less danger than when he was in the picketed fort with his father. Such a supposition [pg 29] would be greatly at fault. The towns in New Mexico, at this early period, were almost entirely at the mercy of the Indians. The Mexicans were nearly destitute of means to defend themselves. Very few of the Anglo-Saxon race had entered this territory, and those who had were, in turn, exposed to the vacillating wills of the proverbially treacherous Mexicans. A man like Kit Carson, however, born and bred in danger, cared but little about this state of affairs. The dangers did not enter into his calculations of chance to overcome the difficulties which beset the pathway which the alluring hopes of his ambition had marked out. Not long afterward, he left the copper mines, and once more bent his steps to Taos, in company with a small party. At Taos, he found a band of trappers which had been sent out by Mr. Ewing Young. While en route for the river Colorado of the west, in pursuit of game, they had been attacked by a band of Indians. After fighting an entire day, they had been compelled to retreat, and returned to New Mexico.
[pg 30]The news of the Defeat of Mr. Young's Trapping Party by the Indians reaches Taos—Young raises a Party to chastise the Indians—Kit Carson becomes a Conspicuous Member of the Expedition—The Indians are found on Salt River—The Fight—Trapping Exploits—A new Country—Trials and Vicissitudes—Sacramento Valley—California and its Roman Catholic Missions in 1829—Another Indian Fight—Sale of Furs—Indian Depredations—Kit Carson and Twelve Trappers engage with the Indians in a Battle—Return to the Camp with recovered Property.
The news of the attack and defeat of his men by the Indians, was brought to Mr. Ewing Young at Taos by a member of the unfortunate expedition. On learning the causes which brought this unpleasant termination to his enterprise, Mr. Young raised a party of forty men, consisting of Americans, Canadians and Frenchmen, and put himself at its head. Kit Carson was received into the party, and soon became one of its most prominent and efficient aids. Mr. Young's object was two-fold: first, to chastise the Indians; and, second, to make all he could out of the expedition by employing the men in their calling as trappers. Under the Mexican laws, licenses were required from the government to all Mexicans who set out on trapping expeditions. These were not granted to citizens of the United States. This was not the mere will of governmental officials; the Mexican statutory law prohibited the granting of licenses to citizens of the United States. This law was, however, often [pg 31] made a dead letter by Americans; for, they frequently, but stealthily evaded it. In order, therefore, to hoodwink the Mexican authorities, Mr. Young had to resort to various expedients. His preparations were so carefully and secretly made, that the real business he had in contemplation did not transpire, or even a suspicion gain currency as to his intended whereabouts.
In April, 1829, the party set out, eager to bring about results equal to their anticipations. At first, to avoid the curiosity and inquiring disposition of the Mexicans, they traveled northward, as if their destination was into the territory of the United States. Hints had been sufficiently freely bestowed upon the Mexicans to lead them to believe that such was the destination of the party. After journeying fifty miles in this direction, and feeling themselves free from the scrutiny of the Mexican authorities, they changed their course to the southwest, and travelled through the country occupied by the Navajoes, who are an interesting and dangerous race of Indians, even to the trader of this day. On their route, the company passed through Zuni, a Peublo town; thence they traveled to the head of Salt River, one of the tributaries of the Rio Gila. Here they discovered the band of Indians who had attacked and defeated the former party. As soon as the Indians discovered the party of trappers, they became eager for the affray. The usual preliminaries for such fights were, therefore, quickly made on both sides. Young directed the greater part of his men to lie in ambush, for he felt confident that the Indians did not know his strength. The bands of savages who covered the hills round about mistook [pg 32] the halt necessary to complete the ambush for cowardice and fear on the part of the whites. At this their courage arose, to such a degree, that they made a bold charge against, as they supposed, the small party of white men who were visible. They were allowed to advance well into the trap, until, by the position of the trappers in ambush, they came under a cross fire. At the word of command, a general volley was fired into the advance column. Fifteen warriors fell dead, and many others were wounded. The Indians became panic-stricken, and the trappers immediately following up their advantage, advanced from cover. The warriors did not rally for a second attack, but fled in every direction, leaving Young, with his party, masters of the field. Strange as it has ever seemed, to the inquiring mind, in those days and for many succeeding years, companies of white men from fifty to sixty in number could wage successful war against whole tribes of Indians, who could easily muster a thousand fighting men. A reason often given for this is, that the trappers of the western wilds are invariably "dead shots" with the rifle and well versed in Indian strategy. On the other hand, the red men were, comparatively speaking, poorly armed, and could not travel together for any length of time in large parties, because they depended for food chiefly upon hunting. Had there existed no other cause, the means of obtaining provision being limited, must have compelled them to separate. Very frequently whole tribes are reduced to depend upon daily hunts. The bravery of the Indians is of a different stamp from that which is exhibited by the whites, especially where the white man is a Simon-pure [pg 33] western trapper. The white man on the prairie or in the mountains, knows but too well that if attacked by Indians he must conquer or die. It was, and is, seldom that a company out on an expedition has any place of refuge to which it may retreat. Here is the principal reason why the trapper is so seldom defeated. He cannot afford to lose his life to a certainty, and consequently will not allow a defeat.
After this fight, Young's party trapped down the Salt River to San Francisco River, and thence on up to the head of the latter stream. The Indians failed not to hover on their pathway, and to make nightly attacks upon their party. Frequently they would crawl into camp and steal a trap, or kill a mule or a horse, and do whatever other damage they could secretly. At the head of the San Francisco River the company was divided. It was so arranged, that one party was to proceed to the valley of the Sacramento in California. Of this detachment Kit Carson was a member. The other party had orders to return to New Mexico for the purpose of procuring traps to replace those stolen. This latter party was also commissioned to take and dispose of the stock of beaver already on hand. The party bound for California was eighteen in number. Of this party Mr. Young took command. Previous to setting out, a few days were devoted to hunting. They only succeeded, however, in killing three deer. The meat of these animals they prepared to take with them, as they were about to journey into a country never before explored. The skins of the three deer were converted into tanks for carrying water. They had learned from [pg 34] some friendly Indians that the country over which they had to pass en route was destitute of water. The red men told them additionally that the valley (meaning the Sacramento) was beautiful, and that the streams were full of beaver. All of this information the trappers found was true. For four days they travelled over a barren country, where not one drop of water could be found. At each night's camping-place, small allowances of water from the tanks was distributed by the commander to each man and animal. A guard was then stationed over the remainder to prevent any accident from depriving the company of this now precious article of sustenance. At the close of the fourth day, however, they again found water. The instinct exhibited by the pack mules on this occasion was truly remarkable. Long before any member of the party thought that water was so near, the mules, with unerring certainty, had smelt it, and each one, according to his remaining strength, had hurried on to partake of it. The result was, that when the first mule had reached the water, the remainder were scattered along upon the trail for a great distance. The company encamped here, and remained two days to recruit.
The journey was renewed on the third day, the route being still over a similar kind of country, necessitating both man and beast to submit to similar privations as to water. In four days more they came in sight of the great Cañon of the Colorado, which failed not to awaken a thrill of delight in every member of the party. Just before reaching the Cañon they met a party of Mohave Indians, of whom they purchased an old mare. She was [pg 35] killed and eaten by the party with great gusto. The party remained three days on the banks of the Colorado recruiting their strength. While remaining here, another party of Mohave Indians visited them, from whom they procured a small quantity of corn and beans. Leaving the Colorado they recommenced their journey and travelled southwest. In three days they arrived at a stream which rises in the coast range, runs northeast and is lost in the sands of the Great Basin. About two years previous to their arrival here, three trappers by the names of Smith, Sublett, and Jackson, with a large party of men, had a desperate fight in this neighborhood with hostile Indians. They, also, had learned from friendly Indians of the wonders of the Sacramento Valley, and were en route to explore it when attacked. Four only out of their entire company escaped with their lives. These succeeded in making their way to the nearest Mexican settlements, which they reached in a state of complete destitution, after many hardships. Young and his party followed the dry bed of this river for several days before they came to any visible water. It may be interesting to some of our readers to know that there are many of these curious rivers in western America, which, for miles disappear from the surface of the earth, and, probably, run through the quicksand beneath, as they reappear again. The outline of the river usually exists between the place of its disappearance and the place where the water again comes to the surface of the earth. By digging a few feet into the sand within the outline, the water is generally obtained. It takes but a short time, however, for the hole thus made [pg 36] to fill up again. On quitting this river, the party journeyed to the westward, and, in four days, came to the Mission of San Gabriel. Here they found one Roman Catholic priest, fifteen Mexican soldiers, and about one thousand Indians. Belonging to this little colony were eighty thousand head of cattle, fine fields and vineyards. Literally the work and life of the Jewish patriarchs were here being reënacted.
"A shepherd on the mighty plain he watched his roving store."
To the half-starved followers of Mr. Young, this Mission appeared to be a "Paradise of Earth." They remained here, however, but one day. Having nothing else to trade, they parted with their butcher knives, receiving for four of them one fat ox. It would all appear a fabulous tale, were we to incorporate into this narrative a history, or even a slight description of the immensity of the herds of horses and cattle which once roamed over the plains and valleys of California and New Mexico. It is but a few years since, that some wealthy Mexicans owned herds in these parts of America which they numbered by tens of thousands. They were, however, almost valueless for want of a market; and, until the tide of emigration poured in, developing the resources of the country by its demand for provisions and labor, horses and cattle were sold for a mere trifle. In one day's march from San Gabriel, Young and his party arrived at another Roman Catholic Mission, called San Fernando. This establishment was on a much smaller scale than the first. Young and his hardy followers, however, stopping [pg 37] only for a few hours, pushed on for the Sacramento River, which proved to be distant only a few days' march. Their course from San Fernando was northeast. The last part of their journey led through a delightful tract of country, where water, grass and game existed in abundance, seemingly a foretaste of the success which awaited their further advance. Selecting an eligible camping site, Young here rested his party for some time. When they were fully recruited, the party started for the San Joaquin, and commenced trapping down the river. What gave the men great surprise, they discovered unmistakable signs of another trapping party. In a short time it appeared that they were close to a party belonging to the Hudson's Bay Company, commanded by Peter Ogden. Young's men, however, continued setting their traps on the San Joaquin and its tributaries. The two parties were near each other for some time, and as deer, elk, and antelope existed by thousands around them, which it was no trouble to kill in any numbers desirable, they fared well. On again reaching the Sacramento River, the two parties separated. Mr. Ogden, with his party, set out for the Columbia River, while Mr. Young's party encamped where they were, for the remainder of the summer. As the season for trapping had passed, they employed their time in hunting and preparing meat for future necessity.
It was here that Kit Carson soon distinguished himself as a superior hunter, which reputation he has maintained ever since, no matter who have been his antagonists. Not but that Kit may have had his equals; but that it is next to an impossibility to find his superior. At all [pg 38] events, the world has given Kit Carson the title of "Nestor of the Rocky Mountains," for his reputation as a hunter alone; and as his biographer, we take pleasure in recording the facts by which the title has been earned and maintained. Let the reader possess himself of the facts, as they shall appear divested of any and every picture which fancy or partiality may accidentally cause us to paint, and even then Kit Carson will not lose the title. On the contrary, it will become the more indelibly stamped upon his brow.
During the sojourn of the trappers on the Sacramento, an event occurred which exhibited the readiness with which these men responded to calls upon them for aid in a just cause. A few of the Indians belonging to the Mission of the San Rafael, after committing some excesses, deserted from those to whom they had pretended friendship. The priest having charge of the Mission sent a strong force to search for the fugitives. They were found secreted in an Indian village, the inhabitants of which were not on friendly terms with the priest's party. A demand was made that the deserters should be given up, which being refused, a fight ensued, and the priest's party was defeated. Assistance was now asked from the trappers. The request was complied with by Carson and eleven of his companions, who volunteered for the occasion. Thus reinforced, the vanquished party returned and resumed the fight, but with a far different result. The Indian village was captured and one third of its inhabitants killed. The day following a second demand to deliver up the deserters was complied with. Carson and his companions then left the priest's party and rejoined their camp. [pg 39] A short time after this affair had happened, Mr. Young carried the furs he had on hand to the Mission of San Rafael, where he was so fortunate as to find a captain of a trading schooner to whom he succeeded in disposing of the entire stock. With the money accruing from the sale, he purchased horses and then rejoined his company.
A circumstance occurred a few days after Mr. Young's return, which proved to be a good warning to the party for their future vigilance. During one dark night, some Indians, eluding the watch of the sentinels, succeeded in entering the camp and moving off sixty horses. As soon as the robbery was discovered, which had been the more easily accomplished because the trappers, not apprehending danger, had allowed the animals to take care of themselves, Mr. Young directed Kit Carson to take twelve men with the remaining horses, fourteen in number, and pursue the thieves. Carson, in obedience to his orders, immediately started for the Sierra Nevada Mountains, following the trail of the Indians. After travelling one hundred miles he came up with the robbers, and discovered them in the act of feasting upon horse-flesh, six of their own animals having been killed to supply the viands. Doubtless stolen fruit made the feast all the sweeter to the savages, but Kit determined to mingle a little of the bitter as a condiment to the roasted flesh. Gathering his men well together, and approaching very close to the foe without being discovered, he gave the order to charge. His men needed no second command. They fell upon the feasting savages like a thunderbolt, scattering them right and left without mercy. Eight of the warriors were killed in [pg 40] the short conflict which ensued. The remainder were allowed to escape. With some difficulty they next succeeded in recovering all their horses, except the six which had been killed. With their horses, and three children taken prisoners, they returned to camp. It is unnecessary to add that, to men thus isolated in the wilderness, Kit and his party were hailed with joyful greetings when their complete success became known. To them their horses were like the good ship to the hardy sailors on the mighty ocean. The joyful reaction which followed such complete success was in ratio to the fears which the continuing suspense had excited.
Kit Carson, though at that day a youth in years and experience when compared with the other members of the party of which he was then an associate, had risen rapidly in the estimation of all, and had excited the admiration and enlisted in his behalf the confidence of the entire band. When called upon to add his counsel and advice to the general fund of knowledge offered by the trappers concerning any doubtful or difficult enterprise, his masterly foresight and shrewdness, as well as clearness in attending to details, alone gave him willing auditors. But it was the retired manner and modest deportment, which he invariably wore, that won for him the love of his associates. Such characteristics failed not to surprise, in no ordinary degree, those who could boast a long lifetime of experience in Indian countries. Kit Carson's powers of quickly conceiving thoughts, on difficult emergencies, which pointed out the safest and best plans of action, "just the things that ought to be done," and his bravery, which, in his youth, sometimes [pg 41] amounted to rashness, were the component parts of his ability which thus caused his companions to follow his leadership. His courage, promptitude, willingness, self-reliance, caution, sympathy, and care for the wounded, marked him at once as the master-mind and safest counsellor. His first trapping expedition gained him so much credit, that from the time it was concluded, he found no difficulty in joining any band of trappers, no matter how select the party. In this respect the mountaineers resemble sea-faring men, who invariably dislike new and untried hands, because such are so apt to give more trouble than assistance. Green hands, therefore, are treated with indifference when they apply to be admitted as members on a contemplated hunt. The reader will here see one difficulty which had to be overcome by Carson, and which kept him so long in want of employment. From this time Kit carried a rifle and worked from an experience which commanded admiration, respect, and esteem wherever he went, and with whatever party he became connected. Like the great Napoleon, when he joined the army for his first campaign, he was a hero in spite of his youth among men grown grey with experience.
[pg 42]The Return from California to New Mexico—San Fernando and the Peublo of Los Angelos—Description of these Peublos—Passports demanded at Los Angelos—Trouble with the Mexican Authorities—Kit Carson sent on with the Pack Animals One Trapper shoots another—The Mexicans become frightened—Indians come into Camp with their Weapons concealed—Cool Reception by Kit Carson—Arrival at Santa Fé and Taos—Money realized soon parted with—Carson joins another Expedition—The Rivers trapped on—Four Men Killed by Blackfeet Indians—Kit Carson joins Gaunt's Party—The Parks—Winter Quarters—Crow Indian Depredations—Kit Carson and his Party in Pursuit—the Fight—Winter on the Arkansas—Another Expedition—Two Deserters—Kit Carson sent in Pursuit—The Fate of the Runaways—Adventures with Indians—Hair-breadth Escape made by Kit Carson.
In September, Mr. Young, having accomplished all that he had intended, informed his men that he was going to New Mexico. The homeward route was through most of the country over which they had previously traveled. The preparations for the journey having been completed, the party started, touching on the way at the Mission of San Fernando, and thence through to the Peublo of Los Angelos. Scattered over various parts of the dominion of Old Mexico are these Peublos, or Indian villages, called so because they are inhabited by Indians who bear that name. These are the true descendants of the ancient Aztecs, who were once the subjects of the Montezumas. They are usually a quiet and industrious race, and are most devout in their religious worship, according to the principles, forms, and [pg 43] ceremonies of the Roman Catholic Church. They have not failed to inherit the superstition of their forefathers. Not withstanding the changes which time, with its cohorts of emigration, books, religious teachings, association with other races, mechanics, science and art, in greater or less degree, has introduced into their country, and accomplished under their eyes, they still believe that some day their great chief will return to them; accordingly, in each and every one of their towns, they keep a watch-fire burning, in order, on his advent, to let him know where his children live.
At Los Angelos the Mexican authorities came to the trappers and demanded their passports. On finding that such articles of paper authority did not form any part of a trapper's outfit, they determined to arrest them. Fear, however, prevented their determination from assuming any very formidable action. Former experience in a similar matter of official duty had taught those Mexicans that the American trappers were men of a peculiarly resolute nature. Fair and legitimate means were therefore laid aside, and a foul policy adopted. They commenced supplying them with "firewater," thus attacking them in a weak point. When they should become fully inebriated they considered the matter of their arrest both easy and certain.
Mr. Young, seeing the intentions of the authorities, and their underhanded method of carrying them out, determined to thwart them. He directed Carson to take three men, the loose animals and the camp equipage, and move on, with the instructions, that if he did not soon join him, to push on; that if he did not eventually [pg 44] overtake him, to report in New Mexico that the main party had been massacred. Young succeeded in collecting his men as best he could, for they were yet sufficiently sober to retain a little of their reason. The treacherous Mexicans, however, continued annoying the commander of the trappers by gratuitously offering the men all the liquor they desired. One by one, the trappers were allowing themselves to be easily conquered, as the effects of the liquor began to be more active. They would soon have fallen a complete prey to their enemies, had not a most singular circumstance put the Mexicans to flight. One of the trappers, named James Higgins, without any provocation and without any excuse, except that he was intoxicated, shot a man named James Lawrence, inflicting a slight wound. Such conduct so terrified the Mexicans that they took sudden and precipitous leave. This happened, very fortunately, before the party arrived at the mission of San Gabriel, where they would all have been arrested, and perhaps killed, by the Mexicans, aided by parties and reinforcements at the mission.
About dark, Young, by urging his half-drunken men into a forced march, succeeded in overtaking Carson. At the first supply of water, they went into camp. A night of sleep soon set the brains of Young's trappers once more to rights. The next day the party, most of them sufficiently ashamed of their drunken debauch, commenced with vigor the homeward march. They continued nine days almost upon their former track, when outward bound. On the ninth day, they once more stood on the banks of the Colorado River.
While encamped on this stream, a band of five hundred [pg 45] Indians made their appearance and entered the camp. The rascals professed the greatest friendship for the trappers, but their actions not fully measuring their words, the white men looked to Carson for advice. He had discovered that beneath their articles of dress their weapons were very carefully concealed; and from this circumstance it became quite clearly apparent the Indians intended to massacre the entire party. Here Carson's boldness proved, as it had before, and did many a time afterwards, the safety of himself and friends or associates. At the time the Indians entered the camp, Carson, with only a few of the party, occupied it; the rest were out visiting their traps, which it was their general custom to set whenever they arrived at a suitable stream. Kit having thus become satisfied concerning the design of the savages, and feeling that the salvation of the entire party rested upon his courage and wisdom, made up his mind that boldness was the wisest policy he could adopt. He found present among the warriors one who could speak the Spanish language. Through him he ordered the red men "to leave the camp. In the event of their not doing so immediately, he and his friends would, without further parley, commence hostilities, and would be sure each in killing his man, although they might all in the end lose their own lives."
The Indians had been accustomed to act about as they chose with such small parties of Mexicans as they chanced to meet, and consequently were taken completely by surprise at Kit's unusual boldness. Seeing that they would inevitably lose several of their braves [pg 46] if they made any hostile demonstration, they chose the discreet part of best policy, and departed. As a general rule, no matter what the profit or urgent necessity which chance offers, these Indians will not hazard a contest when, to a certainty, they must expect their own killed will equal the number of scalps which they can obtain. This rule, and doubtless some fearfulness on the part of the Indians, saved the lives of the entire band.
As has already appeared, the trappers were on the banks of the Colorado at the time this affair happened. They continued their work on it, descending the south side until they reached tide water, when they changed their camp on to the Gila, and continued trapping up this river as far as the mouth of the San Pedro. Near the outlet of this river, they discovered a large herd of horses and mules; on a closer examination, they found that they were in the possession of a band of Indians who had formerly given them some of their gratuitous hostilities. Not having forgotten their former troubles with these people, they determined to pay them off in their own coin by depriving them of the herd. A short search sufficed to discover the Indian camp. Without waiting an instant, they put their horses to their speed and charged in among the huts. The Indians were so completely taken by surprise, that they became panic-struck and fled in every direction. They, however, rallied somewhat, and a running fight commenced which lasted some time, but which did not change matters in favor of the Indians. The entire herd fell into the possession of the trappers.
On the same evening, after the men had wrapped [pg 47] themselves up in their blankets and laid down for a sleep, and while enjoying their slumbers, a noise reached their ears which sounded very much like distant thunder; but a close application of the sense of hearing showed plainly that an enemy was near at hand. Springing up, with rifle in hand—for generally in the mountains a man's gun rests in the same blanket with himself on all sleeping occasions—they sallied forth to reconnoitre, and discovered a few warriors driving along a band of at least two hundred horses. The trappers comprehended instantly that the warriors had been to the Mexican settlements in Sonora on a thieving expedition, and that the horses had changed hands with only one party to the bargain. The opportunity to instill a lesson on the savage marauders was too good to be lost.
They saluted the thieves with a volley from their rifles, which, with the bullet-whizzing about their heads and bodies, so astonished them, that they seemed almost immediately to forget their stolen property, and to think only of a precipitous flight. In a few moments, the whites found themselves masters of the field, and also of the property. To return the animals to their owners was an impossibility; Mr. Young, therefore, selected as many of the best horses as he needed for himself and men, and game being very scarce, killed two and dried most of the meat for future use, turning the remainder loose. Such either became wild mustangs or fell again into the clutches of the Indians. The company then renewed their trapping, and continued it up the Gila to a point opposite the copper mines of New Mexico. Here they left the river and proceeded to the copper mines, [pg 48] where they found Mr. Robert McKnight engaged in trading with the neighboring Indian tribes. These mines were not then, and ever since have not been, worked. The holes which had many years before been made by the miners—but who they were is unknown—formed a safe hiding-place for their skins. The stock of beaver was therefore placed under the care of Mr. McKnight. Young and his men then renewed their march, and in due time arrived safely at Santa Fé. Here they purchased licenses to trade with the Indians who live about the copper mines. With these licenses as protection papers, they returned to where the skins were concealed. Having once more recovered their fur, they returned with it to Santa Fé. The deserted mines of New Mexico show incontrovertible signs of having been successfully and extensively worked, at some remote period, for various kinds of metals. They have proved a knotty historical problem to many an investigating mind; for their authentic history has fallen, and probably will ever remain in oblivion. It may have been that about a century ago the Spaniards, with Indian assistants, worked them; and the savages becoming hostile to their employers, in some sudden fit of frenzy may have massacred the Spaniards. There is a legendary story circulating, similar to the traditions of the Indians, giving this explanation. The more probable hypothesis, however, is that the Indians themselves, many centuries in the past, were versed to some extent in the art of mining, and carried on the business in these mines; but from indolence or, to them, uselessness of the metals, the work was abandoned, and their descendants failed to obtain [pg 49] the knowledge which their ancestors possessed. These mines, and those which exist nearer to the large towns, will some day render New Mexico a profitable and rich field for the learned antiquary.
The ruse which Mr. Young found absolutely necessary to employ, in order to blind the Mexican authorities, succeeded so well, that when the fur arrived at Santa Fe, every one considered the trappers had made a very good trade. The amount of beaver thus brought in amounted to two thousand pounds. The market price was twelve dollars the pound. The proceeds, therefore, of the entire trip were nearly twenty-four thousand dollars. The division of this handsome sum gave to each man several hundred dollars. It was during the month of April, 1830, that Mr. Young's party again reached the town of Taos. Here they disbanded, having completed their enterprise. Like as Jack, when he returns from his battles with old ocean, having a pocket well lined with hard earnings, fails not to plunge into excess, with the determination to make up for the pleasure lost by years of toil, the brave mountaineers courted merrymaking. From their own accounts, they passed a short time gloriously. This similarity of disposition between trappers and sailors, in regard to pleasure's syren cup and its consequent draft upon their treasures, causing them to forget the risk of life and limb and the expense of their valuable time, is most remarkable. These hardy trappers, like reliable old salts, proved to be as true to the bowl as they had been to their steel; for, most of the party, in a very brief space of time, were penniless and ready to be fitted out for another expedition. [pg 50] Young Kit, at this period of his life, imitated the example set by his elders, for he wished to be considered by them as an equal and a friend. He, however, passed through this terrible ordeal, which most frequently ruins its votary, and eventually came out brighter, clearer and more noble for the conscience-polish which he received. He contracted no bad habits, but learned the usefulness and happiness of resisting temptation, and became so well schooled that he was able, by the caution and advice of wisdom founded on experience, to prevent many a promising and skillful hand from grasping ruin in the same vortex.
The scenes of pleasure lasted until the fall of 1830. Kit then joined his second trapping expedition. This band had been formed for the purpose of trapping the principal streams of the Rocky Mountains. Mr. Fitzpatrick, a trapper well known and respected by the mountaineers, had charge of the party. He was, at that time, well acquainted by experience with the Rocky Mountains, and has, since then, gained an enviable fame as an Indian Agent. The new party travelled North and commenced operations on the Platte River, which they followed down stream to one of its tributaries, the Sweet Water River. From here they worked on until they reached the Green River. Hence they journeyed to Jackson's Hole, which is a fork of the Great Columbia River. After making a short stay at this point they started for the Salmon River. Here they were joined by a band of their own party, who had left Taos some days in advance of the main body, and for whom they were then hunting. The whole party, as now organized, [pg 51] remained where they were throughout the winter of 1830 and 1831, employed in killing only the amount of game necessary for their sustenance. An unfortunate affair here happened to them. Four of their men, while hunting buffalo, were attacked and killed by a party of Blackfeet Indians. No other incident occurred during the winter to change the everyday routine. In April of 1831, they recommenced trapping, shaping their course for Bear River. This is the principal stream that empties into GREAT SALT LAKE. Thence they returned to Green River, where they found some Trappers under the command of Mr. Sinclair, who left New Mexico soon after Mr. Fitzpatrick's party and had wintered on the Bear River. Among many other facts, they learned from this party that Captain Gaunt, who was an old mountaineer well known to most of the whites present, had passed the winter on the Laramie River, and that he was then with his men in the New Park. Kit Carson and four of his companions determined to join him. For this purpose they started, and, after ten days of steady travel, found his party.
There are two of these natural Parks in the Rocky Mountains. To distinguish them they are called the Old Park and the New Park. As their names imply, they are fair natural examples of the manufactured parks of civilization. In some things nature has lavished upon them charms and beauties which no human skill can imitate. These parks are favorite haunts of the deer, antelope and elk, while the streams which run through them are well stocked with otter and beaver. Kit and his companions were graciously received by Gaunt; and, [pg 52] with him they trapped the streams in the vicinity of the New Park and the plains of Laramie to the South fork of the Platte. Having finished here, they left for the Arkansas, remaining there while their captain went to Taos to dispose of their stock of furs and to make such purchases of necessaries as the men required. Gaunt returned after an absence of two months; when, trapping operations were resumed on the Arkansas River, which they trapped until it froze over. The party then went into Winter Quarters.
The business of trapping for beaver is no child's play. A person unaccustomed to it may possibly look upon it as no very difficult task. A single trial is usually sufficient to satisfy the uninitiated on this point; for, the beaver, above all other wild animals of America is endowed with an extraordinary amount of instinct. His handiwork and habits sufficiently attest this.
There are bands of Indians living in the Northwestern part of America who really believe that the beaver has almost as much intelligence as an Indian, holding and maintaining that all the difference that exists between a beaver and an Indian, is, that the latter has been endowed by the Great Spirit with power and capabilities to catch the former. Some of the stories which old mountaineers occasionally inflict upon an inquisitive traveller are somewhat startling; nevertheless, what this amphibious animal really performs is truly astounding, and oftentimes the truth fails to gain credence.
During the winter the trappers had many very pleasant times, for they had little work beyond the task of [pg 53] making themselves comfortable. The snow fell to a great depth, which proved rather hard for their animals. By dint of cutting down cottonwood trees and gathering the bark and branches for fodder, they managed to prevent them from dying of starvation. The buffalo existed about there in great abundance; and, early in the winter, they had taken the precaution to kill and prepare a large supply of this kind of game, while it was in good condition. As the season advanced therefore, the trappers found themselves living quite sumptuously.
In the month of January, the daily routine of their lives was rather unpleasantly disturbed. A party of fifty Crow Indians made an unfriendly visit to their camp on one very dark night. They succeeded in stealing nine of their loose animals, with which they escaped unperceived. Early the next morning, the signs of the Indians were discovered. Kit Carson, with twelve of his companions, immediately saddled their horses and started in pursuit. It was very difficult to follow the trail of the Indians from the fact that many herds of buffalo had crossed and repeatedly recrossed it during the night, making the tracks very indistinct. Having traveled forty miles, their horses, which were very poor in flesh, became fatigued, causing them to think of making a halt. After due consultation, it was agreed that they had best go into camp. With this object in view they traveled towards some timber which was near by. On arriving at the woods, the advance of the party, to their surprise and not less to their satisfaction, discovered the smoke of their enemies' fires. The distance between the [pg 54] parties was inconsiderable; but, in order that their movements might be made unobserved, the trappers retreated to a secluded spot where they awaited the night, judging it best to take the party by surprise. Their first care was to secure and provide for their animals. The second was to prepare their arms. As soon as it would do for them to move, they started, eager for the strife. It was judged best first to make a half circuit and then approach the Indians from the direction they themselves were travelling, as from this source, they wisely judged the red men would be less apprehensive of an attack. Their movements were made slowly and with great care in order not to alarm the savages. Having obtained a position close enough to observe the strength of their enemies, they stopped to reconnoitre. The men then crept for a long distance on their hands and knees until finally they obtained a full view of the Indians, which showed them that the savages had erected two rough forts and that they were now divided into two parties. A dance was in progress in honor of the robbery so recently perpetrated, which proved conclusively, that they were without even a suspicion of danger. Just outside one of the forts, the nine stolen animals were securely tied. This sight did not tend to allay the wrath of the trappers. They resolved that come what might the attempt to regain their property and punish the Indians should be made notwithstanding their strength. To insure success in spite of their weakness, they determined to conceal themselves and wait quietly until the Indians had lain down for sleep. During this time of suspense the trappers were subjected [pg 55] to great suffering for the weather was intensely cold and they possessed but a scanty allowance of clothing fit for such work. But as there is an end to all things, there was an end to the dance and other festivities and the savages sought their rest. At last the time for action arrived. Kit Carson and five of his companions commenced crawling towards the stolen horses, which, on reaching, were easily set free by cutting their halters. They then threw snow-balls at them and by this means drove them away without disturbing the sleeping Indians. The trappers who acted as a reserve party soon after joined Kit and his companions; and, after retreating some distance in order to be out of the hearing of the enemy, they held a council to obtain the views of each member of the party as to their next step. It appeared that a difference of opinion existed; some of the men were in favor of returning, having recovered their property and sustained no damage. The remainder, those who had lost no animals, wanted satisfaction for the trouble and hardship they had undergone while in pursuit of the thieves. Kit Carson and two others composed this latter party and thus were determined to punish the thieves, let the consequences of the attempt be ever so fatal. The more peaceful party, seeing this earnestness, could not do otherwise than lend their aid in the fight and cheerfully did so.
There always existed such a feeling of brotherly love among the old trappers of the Rocky Mountains, that the hour of peril was never the hour for separation or desertion. This instance affords a fair example how the minority could easily rule the majority when the minority [pg 56] held to the side of danger. The whole band were now unanimous in favor of the attack.
Kit Carson, who had from the first acted as captain, ordered three men to take the recovered animals back to where they had secured their saddle horses. Then, with his comrades, he marched directly for the Indian camp. A dog belonging to the enemy first gave the alarm of approaching danger to the Indians; but not until Kit and his party were within a few paces of the first fort. As soon as the occupants of the fort heard the noise they sprang to their feet, and thus became fair marks for the unerring rifles of the trappers. The whites did not throw away a single shot; every ball struck a warrior in some vital spot. Those who survived retreated to the fort occupied by their friends, and, as soon as possible, commenced returning the fire; but without execution, as the trappers, on discharging their first volley, had well concealed themselves behind trees, from whence they were shooting only when sure of an object. It was now nearly daybreak; and as the savages discovered the weakness of the attacking party, they resolved to charge, feeling sure of success. They did so; but the white men, who were expert fighters in this kind of warfare, quietly waited until the Indians were fully exposed. They then fired and killed five warriors. The remainder immediately retreated into the fort.
After considerable deliberation, the Indians decided once more to make a sortie. On they came, and this time with such determination that the trappers could not withstand the assault, but were compelled to retreat. [pg 57] They disputed, however, every inch of ground over which they trod, as they fell back from one tree to another, continually making their bullets tell with terrible effect on their foes. The three men who had been sent back with the horses had joined their comrades soon after they had commenced retreating. They had heard the incessant firing and had become convinced that the fight was hotly contested and that their services were required. On their joining, the whole party resolved to make one more stand, and as soon as the Indians saw this, they wavered and finally drew off. Both sides had now, seemingly, had enough of fighting, and hostilities soon after entirely ceased, the savages marching back and leaving the whites masters of the field. Several of the trappers were slightly, but none dangerously, wounded. The Indians had paid dearly, in numbers killed, for their rascality. Finding the coast clear, Carson and his men set out and soon rejoined their comrades on the Arkansas River. In the Spring, after having cached their fur, the whole band departed for Laramie River on another expedition.
While on the south fork of the Platte, two of the party deserted, taking with them three of their best animals. Suspecting their design, Gaunt sent Kit Carson and another man in pursuit of the fugitives, who had one day the start. As was suspected, the two deserters had gone to the camp where the beaver fur was concealed and buried. They had succeeded in digging it up and stealing about three hundred pounds of this valuable property, belonging to the company in general, share and share alike. Carson and his companion failed [pg 58] entirely in their efforts to find the two men. Doubtless they never lived to enjoy their ill-gotten wealth; for, notwithstanding careful search was made, the men were never heard from afterwards. It is probable that they were killed by Indians, a fate which they, at least, richly merited.
This old camp, the reader will please bear in mind, was on the Arkansas River. Kit Carson and his comrade, after finding that the two deserters had thus succeeded in stealing the fur which had been buried by the company, made every further effort which lay in their power to recover it. As has also been seen, they were unsuccessful. It now remained for them to determine their future course. The country was so infested with hostile Indians that it made their position, thus alone, very precarious. To regain their commander's company was almost impracticable; at least, without a more important object to make the risk necessary, it was a foolhardy attempt. Time in learning the loss was of no great importance either to their leader or their party. Sooner or later this, as a matter of course, would be fully shown. Kit and his comrade, therefore, determined to remain where they were, in the old camp; and, to this end, immediately arranged everything so that they could make a successful defence in case they should be attacked by the savages. They did not dare to venture out far from their fortifications; but, this was no great trial to them, as game existed in great plenty and came very near their fortifications. While one slept, the other stood on guard. It was their intention to await the return of their party; but, at the expiration of one [pg 59] month, they were quite happily relieved from their perilous position. Mr. Blackwell, Mr. Gaunt's partner, arrived from the United States. He was accompanied by fifteen men, and brought with him a complete outfit for the entire band. Kit and his comrade had been expecting and were anxiously looking for this party. They were also made quite happy in obtaining the articles of outfit which would render their wild life more agreeable and easy. Shortly after this arrival, four men from the trapping party came into camp and brought the news as to the whereabouts of Gaunt and his men. They were overjoyed at finding Kit and his comrade, as they said that they had hunted for them in all directions; and, finally had given up all hopes of ever seeing them again. The whole party now began the march to join Gaunt at the Ballo Salado.3
These Springs form the head waters of the south fork of the River Platte. When four days' journey had been accomplished, and while they were partaking of their breakfast in camp, an alarm of Indians was given by one of the men. He had accidentally discovered the red skin rascals as they were prowling about the camp. A rush was instantly made by the trappers, with rifles in hand, to save their horses. Shots were fired and one Indian fell. The rest of the band made off as empty-handed as they came, with one exception. One brave had succeeded in capturing and mounting a horse before the white men could reach him. Notwithstanding he had a dead brother lying on the ground, he appeared to be altogether too polite to make the trappers a longer [pg 60] visit; at least, without a proper introduction. On the contrary, he galloped off; seemingly, quite proud of his trophy. Had it not been that the trappers had taken the precaution to hobble their horses before turning them out to graze, they would have lost them all in this attempted stampede.4
This day the party travelled fifty miles and thought themselves clear of Indians, as there were no visible [pg 61] signs of their presence. The experience of the day, however, had admonished them to be on their guard against surprise. To make things sure as to their animals, they fastened them to stakes driven in the earth, sufficient rope being given them for grazing. The place selected for their camp was a beautiful spot, being on a small stream which empties into the Arkansas, the water of which is sparkling and clear. There are many of these charming little brooks which, emptying into, form this river. To the general traveler, however, they present one great drawback as eligible camping sites. Their banks are usually pretty thickly lined with rattlesnakes. The mountaineer is quite well accustomed and reconciled to this venomous reptile, as they abound in nearly every section of his hunting and trapping grounds. Not so however with the mere visitor of, or casual traveller over, the Western Territories. To them his rattlesnake-ship is a formidable personage.
The rattlesnake rarely moves after sunset. The night air is generally too chilling for him. In the day time they are a noble enemy, always warning their antagonist of their hostile intentions by springing their rattles, thus giving a person warning of his danger. By these two wise provisions of the Creator the power of this otherwise terrible reptile, is so limited or restrained, that the trapper rarely gives him a thought unless he comes in direct contact. Although they are so numerous, it very [pg 62] seldom happens that either the Indian or the trapper is bitten by them.
The party had not been long at rest before their suspicions were aroused that hostile Indians were near them. A faithful dog belonging to the camp kept up a furious barking, much more lustily than when wolves annoyed him. An extra guard was therefore immediately posted, when the remainder of the party lay down; but, not for sleep. They expected at every moment that their services would be needed to defend the camp. Everything however passed as usual during the night; and, with the morning, all suspicion was laid aside. Kit Carson, with three companions, proposed a visit to a fork of a river close by, to look for signs of beaver. They had been informed that these animals were numerous in this particular stream. Carson and the three men had been absent about one hour when the signs of Indians proved to be realities, in the shape of a bold and well-sustained charge upon their camp. The rascals succeeded in running off all of their loose animals.
Four of the men immediately saddled the fleetest of the remaining horses and instantly gave chase. After a quick run they came up with the savages and immediately gave them battle. A sharp skirmish ensued in which one of the warriors was killed, when the remainder fled, leaving the property once more in the hands of its rightful owners. The men however did not come off entirely safe. One of them received a very severe wound; which, eventually, gave him considerable difficulty; but from the effects of which he finally recovered.
[pg 63]Kit and his companions in the mean time, in order to reach their destination, found it necessary, unless they should take a long and circuitous route, to cross one of those lofty peaks for which the Rocky Mountains are so famous. The ascent was however commenced and successfully accomplished; but, not without labor and an occasional resting-place being sought for breathing their animals. In due time, they reached the desired stream; but, the beaver signs did not appear. Finding their errand had proved entirely useless, they started to return into camp. Experience had taught them that the longest way round was, in this case, the quickest way home. Taking therefore a circuitous route, they avoided recrossing the lofty mountain peak already alluded to. As they were riding carelessly homeward, beguiling the time with anecdote and remark upon their future prospects, the scenery around them, with an occasional sight at some kind of game, what should appear ahead of them but four Indian warriors, remarkably well mounted, painted and decked with feathers, showing, conclusively, that they were out upon the war-path. As soon as Kit and his companions saw the warriors, and without one word as to their proper and best action being interchanged, they simultaneously put spurs to their horses and dashed at the Indians in order quickly to bring them within range of their rifles. The pace became a hot one; but, as suddenly as the charge had been commenced, so suddenly the trappers found that they had, this time "caught a Tartar;" for, as they dashed on, sixty warriors, fully armed and splendidly mounted, came into view from beneath a hill where they were awaiting in ambush.
[pg 64]There was but one course for the trappers to take and that was to run the gauntlet, which they did in gallant style, although twenty yards would have frequently measured the distance between them and the hostile savages. The bullets from the rifles of the Indians flew about their ears thick and fast, for a heavy fire was opened upon them, as they passed, and incessantly kept up until they were out of their reach. The trappers did not return a shot. It would not have been according to their custom. There is no one thing Simon-pure trappers consider to be a greater folly than firing their rifles on such an occasion as is here described. There is nothing they so much dread as being left on foot with an empty gun and no time to load, when perhaps a single shot might change defeat into victory; sure captivity into freedom, or a dead companion into a laughing, jolly and lovable help-mate, ready for setting a trap or to engage in the next bloody skirmish. This must inevitably happen if, after the rider has fired, among the score or so of passing bullets, one of them, perchance, took a peculiar fancy for a vital organ of his horse. The mortally wounded animal would make no account of dismounting his master and leaving him to the tender mercies of the refined savages. In every close and unequal contest, such as above detailed, they only think of the surest and speediest method of escape, leaving revenge to be obtained on some more fitting and favorable occasion. For some unaccountable reason the savages did not give chase.
As soon as Carson and his comrades had got out of the reach of the Indians they began to recall the suspicions [pg 65] concerning signs of Indians which their faithful dog had aroused. Fears for the safety of their companions arose accordingly. Therefore, giving spurs to their horses they pushed on with vigor to know the worst. The facts that awaited them at camp concerning the attack by the Indians, stealing and rescue of the horses gave them therefore but little surprise. They had already surmised the reason why the Indians had thus set a trap for them. Having been watching the camp during the night and finding the white men fully on the alert and carefully guarding against any surprise, they had quietly waited until suspicion of their proximity had been entirely laid aside. The departure of Carson and his companions from camp was doubtless seen by the savages and afforded them a clear proof that the white men had forgotten their fears. As Kit's departure with the men weakened the camp party the Indians had gathered together sufficient courage to make a bold charge for the coveted plunder. The final result, however, which led to their losing the stolen property, and the life of one of their braves, had caused them to think of an attack upon Kit's party; thus, obtaining by its massacre, revenge for their dead companion; and, the horses which Kit and his comrades rode would have been a consolation for their failure to retain the horses obtained at the camp. The attack was skillfully planned and would undoubtedly have succeeded, but for the unexpected daring and promptitude displayed by Kit and his comrades. The Indians had not looked for the bold charge upon their advance party; but, on the contrary, they had been prepared for a chase and fight in the opposite direction. [pg 66] Had such a skirmish taken place, nothing beyond an absolute miracle, or change of the laws of nature, could have saved the little band. Kit and his friends had reason, therefore, to be very thankful for their safety. They all felt that they had retained their scalps by a very close shave. To use the expressive language of Carson employed in narrating the event "The red skins made a good attempt but, thank God, failed."
Two of the trappers had received, in this affray, wounds; which proved to be of a serious nature: much more so than they or their companions thought on the first examination given them. In consequence, the whole party was obliged to halt and again go into camp, having accomplished but a very short remove from their savage foes. It became necessary to maintain a strong and careful guard during the succeeding night, notwithstanding the labors of the past day and night had been more than usually arduous. However, they succeeded in passing the night without further molestation. The next morning, it was found necessary to make a litter for one of the wounded men whose condition had grown to be much worse.
The method which the mountaineers adopt for making a litter, they have taken from the Indians, and is as follows. Take two strong poles, six feet of which, at either extremity, is allowed for shafts, or handles, while the patient lies in the intermediate space on a buffalo robe, or strong sacking, which-ever is most convenient. Two mules or horses of the same size are then selected; and, to saddles upon each of the animals, the poles, at their extremities, are fastened. Another and simpler [pg 67] plan, but one not so comfortable to the patient, is to take the two poles as before and attach them strongly to a saddle on but one animal, while the two ends are allowed to drag upon the ground. Directly in the rear of the horse the patient's bed is affixed. If the poles are long they will act as springs, especially when the wood used is of a kind which has considerable elasticity.
Having arranged everything to the satisfaction and comfort of the wounded men, the party commenced their march and in four days reached Gaunt's camp where they rested until the wounded men had nearly recovered. This simple fact shows the careful and sympathizing care which the mountaineers of the west ever exhibit towards each other in distress. It speaks more than would volumes of mere praise, concerning their character for true manhood.
When the wounded men had so far recovered that they could safely proceed, the whole party, now quite strong in its numerical power, as well as skill and mountaineer experience, departed for, and, in due time, arrived at the Old Park. The coveted beaver however were scarce there, for other trappers had preceded them; and, to employ trapping phrase, "had caught all the fur in those streams that could be taken that season." This was an unpleasant condition for their business prospects; but, as the old adage hath it, "what could not be cured was quietly endured." Catching beaver is not always a matter of choice. The beaver themselves have considerable to say on the subject.
[pg 68]Kit Carson and two Companions plan a Hunt for themselves—The Great Success met with—Return to Taos—Sale of the Beaver Fur—Kit Carson joins Captain Lee and goes on a Trading Expedition—Winter Quarters—Kit Carson is sent in Pursuit of a Thief—Overtakes and is obliged to shoot the Runaway—Property recovered—The Return to Camp—The Sale of Goods—Kit Carson joins Fitzpatrick and Party—Kit Carson organizes a Hunting Party—His Encounter with two Grizzly Bears—The Summer Rendezvous—Kit Carson joins fifty Trappers and goes to the Country of the Blackfeet Indians—Annoyances received from these Indians—Winter Quarters in 1832—Horses Stolen—Kit Carson and eleven Men in Pursuit—A Parley—A Fight—Kit Carson severely wounded—His great Sufferings and Fortitude—His Convalescence—The Retreat—A New Expedition—Braggadocio—Kit Carson Fights a Duel and Wounds his man—Duels in the Rocky Mountains in Olden Times.
The fortunes of Gaunt's party in not finding game continued to grow darker and darker as they traveled from stream to stream. The men began to grow disheartened at this succession of failures. Kit Carson, finally, became so tired of going empty handed, that he resolved to try a hunt upon his own account. On stating his intentions to the party, two of his old companions offered to join him. These were gladly accepted by Kit; and, had they not been deterred by the consideration that their dangers would be greatly augmented if they worked with so small a party, others would most willingly have joined his company. With the good wishes, therefore, of Gaunt and his entire band, Kit and his two brave comrades boldly and confidently commenced their march.
[pg 69]The plan Kit adopted was to confine his operations exclusively to the mountain streams and not to venture out upon the Prairie. By taking this course he hoped to avoid much of the danger to be apprehended from Indians.5
For several months they followed the business of trapping without being in any way annoyed by the Indians. Their success was abundant. At the end of the season they had gathered together a splendid stock of beaver fur and began to think of a homeward trip. Having made everything ready, they finally started for Taos. True, their party was small and the risks they ran of attacks from hostile and covetous Indians were imminent; but, fortune, or Providence favored them and there was finally a satisfactory end to their anxieties; for, after a quick march over the plains, they arrived safely at Taos. Beaver fur was, at the time of their arrival, in great demand and prices ruled correspondingly high. Kit and his comrades obtained the benefit of this state of the market and disposed of their fine stock to great advantage.
The money realized, so far as Kit's two comrades were concerned, was soon expended in fleeting pleasures and a new outfit for the next trapping expedition which [pg 70] might offer. Kit's former experience had been sufficient on this score, and he had become impressed with the highly important fact that there existed a much wiser course to be pursued. With his characteristic consistency, Kit acted upon this conviction and wisely saved his hard earnings.
While remaining at Taos, Kit Carson met with Captain Lee, formerly of the United States Army; but, at this time, a partner of Bent and St. Vrain, two names as familiarly known to the mountaineers as the household words of their boyhood days.
Captain Lee was purchasing goods for the purpose of trading with and supplying the trappers. He desired Kit Carson to join in his enterprise and made him an offer which was accepted.
In the latter part of October 1832, with their goods well packed and properly fitted for the rough transportation which they must necessarily be subjected to, they set out to find the trappers. They traveled for some distance on a route well known as the "Old Spanish Trail." This is nothing more than a mule path which leads from New Mexico to California.
Having arrived safely at White River, they continued their march down stream, following the windings of the river until they came to Green River. Green River, they forded and then struck across the country for the Winty River which is a branch of the Green River.
Here they found Mr. Robidoux who had a party of twenty men in his employ and who was engaged both in trapping and trading according as opportunity presented itself. Soon after these parties met, snow began to fall, [pg 71] indicating the approach of the cold season. A mutual understanding having been arrived at, the two parties joined together and began to establish Winter Quarters suitable for the whole.
They selected a site for their permanent camp on the Winty River, at its mouth, where the men made themselves as comfortable as possible under such circumstances. They were provided with skin lodges, so common among the Indians of America, and which according to Kit's mountaineer experience are very comfortable substitutes for houses.
During the winter Mr. Robidoux lost six of his most valuable and high-priced horses, in the following manner. Attached to the camp there was a California Indian who was employed by Mr. Robidoux, a keen and shrewd savage: and one, whose acquaintance with the trappers had enabled him to gain the confidence of Mr. Robidoux. He was also an expert with the rifle and possessed undoubted courage with great bodily strength and activity. These qualifications made him a troublesome customer in a skirmish.
This Indian's education on the score of property rights had not been as well attended to as the methods of attack and defence in the chase and on the war path. By some, not strange, personal argument, he concluded to appropriate the six valuable horses above mentioned, in the law wordy vocabulary of civilization, "to his own, use, benefit and behoof, without asking the consent, good-will, approbation, permission and personal, directions of the said owner, to wit Mr. Robidoux."
As these horses were worth, even at that remote [pg 72] spot on the great American Continent, the just and full sum of two hundred dollars each, making a round sum total of twelve hundred dollars, Mr. Robidoux was not content to pocket the loss; or, much less, to allow the rascal to enjoy ill-gotten wealth on the principle that "stolen fruit is sweet." He determined, if possible to show him that some stolen fruit is bitter.
Knowing Kit Carson's reputation for skill and his fearless disposition, as soon as he had discovered his loss, he came and requested him to pursue the Indian. Kit Carson is a man who never works without orders except when he is leader. He therefore informed Captain Lee of Mr. Robidoux's request and asked permission to serve his friend. This, as a matter of course, was readily granted by Captain Lee; when, Kit instantly made his preparations for the adventure. He was very soon on horseback, well armed and well prepared for hard and close work.
There chanced, near by to the camp, to be an Indian village belonging to the Utah Tribe. The whites were on friendly terms with the inhabitants of this village, which determined Carson to seek out, from among their warriors, one active and intelligent brave, and get him to join in the chase. This was the more easily accomplished as Carson's reputation for skill, courage and experience was already well known in this tribe. He, himself, had made a large circle of acquaintance among the braves, and many of them had become strongly attached to him. Some of these attachments have existed for years and are still maintained; for, a fact well known, the American Indian warrior, as a general [pg 73] rule, is true and unchangeable in his friendships. With this object in view, Carson, putting his horse to his speed, started for the Utah village. On making his errand known to such of the braves as enjoyed his confidence, he found no difficulty in engaging a well-known warrior, and one on whom he knew he could rely, to accompany him. The wily savage was soon ready for the march, when Kit gave the word to start. Both men were splendidly mounted. Their pace was that of no sluggard. The high-conditioned animals which they rode seemed to catch the eager spirit of their masters, and entering into it, bent themselves to their work with determination accordingly. To discover the trail of the deserter and to study its various characteristics, a science of no mean or useless order in the matter of a woodman's education, required the two men to slacken their pace for a short time. The tracks made by the stolen animals, however, were well marked; and, to such practised eyes, afforded a certain indication as to their route. Again putting their horses to their speed, with compressed lips and eyes directed to the trail before them, Carson and the Indian warrior dashed on, feeling confident, that, if the rascal escaped with his ill-gotten booty, the sin would not be laid upon their shoulders. The trail led down the Green River. This fact made Carson conclude that California was the destination aimed at in the deserter's calculations. Kit and his Indian brave had accomplished about one hundred miles, having, not once, lost sight of the trail, when, most unfortunately for Kit, the horse of the Indian was suddenly taken sick and his strength gave out [pg 74] completely. The Indian could go no further except on foot, and this mode of travel he was unwilling to adopt, refusing absolutely Carson's request made to him to do so. This was an unpleasant predicament, especially as the rascal, who formed the chase, was a dangerous antagonist even to an experienced fighter and in an honest cause. Goaded on by the fear of punishment for theft, Carson well knew that he would require all of his own address to purchase success; for, the rascal would not fail to make a most desperate resistance. But Kit Carson's courage arose, as the difficulties of the adventure seemed to multiply. With a farewell word to his Indian companion, he put spurs to his horse and entered boldly upon the trail alone, being determined to run every hazard, which the unhappy accident to the Indian's horse seemed to require at his hands. The spectacle here presented to the reader, is one which exhibits Kit Carson in his true character both as a faithful and earnest friend, and a determined and dangerous adversary. Such is his character. A life of most singular events has never yet found him false to his friend or his manhood. While he is not rash in judgment, he is consummately skillful, quick and brave. Onward he dashed, never for an instant taking his eagle eye from the tracks which formed his compass. Think not that such tracks are easily traced. None but a practised and ready eye can follow them to any advantageous end. To trace them even at a snail's pace, for an unpractised eye, is like the child putting pen and ink to paper through his first copy-book of penmanship. Many and many an awful blot and horribly crooked line will [pg 75] doubtless carry the simile fully and strikingly to the mind. But the result which crowned Kit's effort showed conclusively that, notwithstanding he had followed the trail for over one hundred and thirty miles, he had made no blots or crooked lines. At the distance of thirty miles from the place where he parted with his Indian companion, Kit discovered the chase. His pace now became tremendous. The wily savage had descried him almost at the same instant that he was discovered by Kit, and instantly prepared for a desperate encounter. With this object in view, the savage turned to seek a cover from whence he could fire upon his adversary and reload long before he should himself become exposed to a shot. The rascal's plan was good enough, but he was too slow in its execution to overcome Kit's activity. Kit had unslung his rifle as soon as he saw his enemy. Anticipating the object of the savage, he, instantly, covered him with his rifle. His horse was now at full speed and he was rapidly nearing the Indian. At the moment he discovered that the Indian had reached his cover and before he could take advantage of it, without relaxing his horse's speed, he fired. The ball from Carson's rifle was so well directed that the Indian, as it struck him, gave one bound and then fell dead in his tracks. At the same instant the rascal's rifle went off with a sharp report, sending a bullet whizzing at some distance from the line of Carson's approach. The fact of the Indian's rifle being fired at all is a sufficient explanation of what was his intent, had his career not been so suddenly cut short, thereby preventing its fulfillment.
The words of an old trapper are here very much to [pg 76] the point. The author was, on a fitting occasion, questioning him in regard to Kit Carson's capabilities with the rifle. Said he: "If a man has a serious quarrel with Kit Carson, he had better not let him get the first sight over his rifle; for, if he succeeds in this, his adversary is as good as dead."
An intimate acquaintance and tried friendship with Kit Carson has, since then, repeatedly furnished occasions which have confirmed this trapper's statement; although, in the first instance, a person will find it no easy task to render an altercation necessary, for Kit Carson holds his passions fully under control; and, besides, they are of a very conciliatory type. No man will sooner shun a difficulty when justice, honor and necessity do not warrant strife.
The work of collecting the horses was soon accomplished, when Carson immediately commenced his journey back to the camp. This he reached in safety, after overcoming a few minor difficulties caused by his charge; and, had the satisfaction of returning the six horses to Mr. Robidoux in as good condition as they were the night on which they were stolen; and, also, of informing him that there was one rascal less in the world to prey upon honest people.
This event served to interrupt the monotony and routine of winter camp duty, affording a basis for many a long yarn during the evening hours around the camp fires. These trappers, especially whenever a green-eyed bundle of curiosity chances to seek their company, can spin yarns most wondrous. The habits of the beaver and their remarkable instinct, form a fit subject for their [pg 77] active imagination. It would doubtless add very much to the interest of these pages if we could set down a few of these anecdotes and tales for the general reader; but, the task would be hopeless as to its accomplishment. To give them life and reality, they require all the surroundings of time, place and occasion; there should be the dark night; the wild whistling wind; the shaking tent with its covering of skins; the roasted venison, bear's meat, or horse flesh; the rifles standing in the corners; the lamp of bear's grease; in fine, all the similitude of camp life. Then the wild stories of bear fightings, beaver intelligence, Indian deviltry, and hairbreadth escapes, become intensely real. The auditor hangs upon each word which falls from the lips of the supposed sage orator with eager earnestness, while curiosity never becomes satisfied.
"Ah! Jones, that is a whopper."
"Sure as I live, but the beaver slept every night with the trapper, and in the day time, if he left the tent, the beaver would fall to work and make a dam across the floor of the tent, using the chist, skins, arms and everything."
"Oh! Jones!"
"But, I tell you it is true. Tame a beaver once, and you'll find I'se tellin' a plain statement as true as ever a Padre made."
"Padre! who'd believe a Mexican priest? Mr. Jones, that tame beaver of your'n must have been born in the States, where he hadn't trees and mud to build dams with, and had to resort to furnitur."
"That beaver," responded Jones, "was as near like a human bein' as any man present."
[pg 78]"How do you make that out, Mr. Jones?"
"Why, one day his master died. Well, they tried all they could to console the beaver, but it 'twant no use. He wouldn't be consoled. All he did was to git an ole shoe belonging to his master, an' if he didn't haul that ere shoe around day after day wherever he went. Well, the beaver 'gan to grow thin, and one night they found he was a dyin', jest from starvin' himself to death and a huggin' the ole shoe."
"Oh! Jones," said the greenhorn, "you don't expect I'll swallow all that yarn?"
But Mr. Jones and all of the other trappers present preserved an imperturbable dignity of mien, as if the very reference to the animal mentioned demanded from them all due reverence.
"Well, but that was not doing as a human being would do. I never seen a man carry an old shoe around till he died from starvin'."
"That is neither here nor there," continued Mr. Jones. "It was when the trapper first made the beaver's acquaintance that he showed he knew as much as a human critter. At that time he had one wife and lived with her all alone in a hole, side o' the dam. They had two sons and a darter. The darter the old beaver had married to a fine lookin' young beaver who lived t'other side the dam."
The whistle which the neophyte here gave seemed to give great dissatisfaction to all of the trappers present. One of them quietly asked him—
"Is that the way, youngster, you'se bin eddicated in perliteniss of manners? If it is, I know a beaver who [pg 79] kin larn you sumthin'. In the fust place, if a young beaver ever kums inter the presence of the ole uns, especially if she's, that is the ole uns, a female beaver, the young un 'mediately fetches his right fore paw up to his forehead, jest 'hind the right eyebrow, an' makes a reverintial bow of cerimony in salute. I'se seen that ar' oftener than you've put one leg ahead of t'other yit, young un."
The trappers present all confirmed the truth of this statement by a solemn nod of assent to the query, "Ain't that true, gentlemen?" which, at least, served to prevent unceremonious whistling.
It is thus that we might go on and fill page after page with this picture-talk of the trappers. Some of their yarns are pretty tightly strained, but most of them contain a capital hit and are usually founded on the facts. It is a well authenticated fact that the beaver has but one mate; and, that they live together a loving couple, as if husband and wife. As to their liaisons, coquetry, flirting and so forth, doubtless the society in some parts of the human family will bear a faithful resemblance in these respects also. As an example of industry the world will look in vain for a better one than is afforded by the little beaver of the Western Rivers. Look at them patiently felling the tallest trees; and, so nicely adjusting their fall and calculating their height, that they strike the opposite bank of their stream gaining a fixed and permanent lodgment. It is thus that these wonderful little creatures will often erect dams across wide rivers and effectually stop the rushing torrents.
As has appeared, after collecting the six horses, Kit [pg 80] Carson returned with them safely into camp. A few days subsequent to this occurrence, a band of trappers belonging to another party en route, entered the camp. These men reported that Fitzpatrick and Bridger were encamped on Snake River distant about fifteen days' journey. This was too good news for Captain Lee and Kit to warrant their remaining any longer idle. They doubted not but that they should be able to dispose of their goods to these parties. With this object in view, they prepared for the march and started. Their journey, although perilous and laborious, was successfully accomplished. Messrs. Fitzpatrick and Bridger received and entertained them very hospitably, and purchased their entire stock, paying therefor in beaver fur. Kit Carson then joined Fitzpatrick's band, but remained with it only one month. His reason for separating from it was, that there were too many men congregated together either to accomplish much, or to make the general result profitable in the distribution. He, accordingly, arranged an enterprise upon his own account; and, from his well-established reputation, found more men than he wanted ready to join him. From those who applied, he selected but three. These were men of the best material; and, no man could judge a trapper's qualifications better than Kit Carson.
With his three men he immediately set out for the Laramie River. On this stream and its tributaries, he spent the summer. Perhaps our readers will look for a full description of the course which the American trapper pursues in order to catch beaver. It is very simple in its detail but difficult and tedious in its application. [pg 81] The trap is the common steel trap made in the usual form; if there is any difference, it is larger and more powerful. It is set in the haunts of the beaver with a particular kind of bait6 known chiefly among trappers. It is a singular fact that, frequently, old beavers will be discovered springing the traps, by the aid of a stick. If discovered at his work, he seems to enjoy hugely the vexation of the trappers which they sometimes exhibit. An old trapper, however, especially if he be a Frenchman or Mexican, feels so much pride in the matter, that he will cover up his vexation under assumed politeness, as if the beaver could understand and appreciate his language.
But to escape from these pleasing digressions, Kit Carson and his men concluded their summer's work with unusual success. Their exertions had been crowned with rewards which surpassed their fondest anticipations. As the wintry months were again fast coming on, Kit and his men determined to rejoin Bridger's' command. The return trip, was therefore commenced and duly prosecuted. Late one afternoon, just after the little party had gone into camp, Kit, having lingered somewhat behind, suddenly rode into the camp ground and leaped from his horse, giving it in care of one of the men. With his rifle, he then started in pursuit of game for supper. He walked on about one mile from the camp and there came upon the fresh tracks of some elk. Following up the trail he discovered the game grazing on the side of a hill. In the neighborhood of the animals there were some low and craggy pine trees. Moving [pg 82] along with great care, he finally gained the cover of the trees, which brought him in close proximity to the elk, and within certain range of his rifle. This care was the more necessary as his party had been without meat diet for some time and began to be greatly in need thereof. These ever wary animals saw, or scented him; or, at any rate, became conscious of approaching danger from some cause, before he could reach the spot from which he desired to take his aim. They had commenced moving; and, in another instant, would have bounded away, out of all reach of his rifle. His eye and piece, however, were too quick for them; for, bringing his piece into position and without dwelling upon his aim, he sped a bullet after the largest and the fattest of the noble game before him. He had wisely allowed for the first leap, for his shot caught the nimble animal in mid air and brought him to the earth, writhing in his death agony with a fearful wound through the heart and lungs, from which there was no escape. One quiver ran through the frame of the beautiful animal, when, he breathed his last. The echoing sound of the rifle shot had hardly died away, to which the true hunter ever listens with unfeigned pleasure as the sweetest of music on his ear, whenever he has seen that his game is surely within his grasp, the last faint melody was broken in upon and completely lost in a terrific roar from the woods directly behind him. Instantly turning his head to note the source of this sound, the meaning and cause of which he well knew by his experienced woodman's ear, educated until its nicety was truly wonderful, he saw two huge and terribly angry grizzly bears. As his eye first rested upon [pg 83] these unwelcome guests, they were bounding towards him, their eyes flashing fiery passion, their pearly teeth glittering with eagerness to mangle his flesh, and their monstrous fore-arms, hung with sharp, bony claws, ready and anxious to hug his body in a close and most loving embrace. There was not much time for Kit to scratch his head and cogitate. In fact, one instant spent in thought then would have proved his death warrant without hope of a reprieve. Messrs. Bruin evidently considered their domain most unjustly intruded upon. The gentle elk and deer mayhap were their dancing boys and girls; and, like many a petty king in savage land, they may have dined late and were now enjoying a scenic treat of their ballet troupe. At all events Kit required no second thought to perceive that the monarchs of the American forest were unappeasably angry and were fast nearing him with mighty stride. Dropping his rifle, the little leaden bullet of which would now have been worth to him its weight in gold if it could by some magic wand have been transferred from the heart of the elk back into its breech, he bounded from his position in close imitation of the elk, but with better success. The trees! he hoped and prayed, as he fairly flew over the ground with the bears hot in chase, for one quick grasp at a sturdy sapling. By good fortune, or special Providence, his hope, or prayer, was answered. Grasping a lower limb he swung his body up into the first tier of branches just as passing Bruin brushed against one of his legs. Bears climb trees and Kit Carson was not ignorant of the fact. Instantly drawing his keen-edged hunting knife, he cut away for dear life at a thick short branch. The knife and his [pg 84] energy conquered the cutting just as Messrs. Bruin had gathered themselves up for an ascent, a proceeding on their part to which Mr. Carson would not give assent. Mr. Carson was well acquainted with the Messrs. Bruin's pride in, and extreme consideration for, their noses. A few sharp raps made with the severed branch upon the noses of the ascending bears, while they fairly made them to howl with pain and rage, caused them hastily to beat a retreat. This scene of ascending, getting their noses tickled and again descending howling with pain and rage now kept Mr. Carson and Messrs. Bruin actively busy for some time. The huge monsters and monarchs of the mountains were determined not to give it up so. Such a full and fair chase and to be beaten by a simple white man on their own domain! This evidently galled their sensitive natures. It is true the roaring of the bears in his rear had stimulated Mr. Carson in the race, so much so, that he undoubtedly ran at the top of his speed; and, being naturally, as well as by long practice, very fleet of foot, he had managed to outstrip his pursuers in the race. It is true he had made short work of climbing the tree and here again had very innocently beaten the bears at their own game and one in which they took great pride. It is more than probable that the bears were in too good condition to run well. Had it been early spring time they would doubtless have been much lower in flesh. That was their own fault too; they should have known that racing time cannot be made on high condition. After leaving their hibernating quarters they should have been less given to a sumptuous habit at the table.
Two huge and terribly angry grizzly bears were bounding towards him, their eyes flashing fiery passion, their pearly teeth glittering with eagerness to mangle his flesh, and their monstrous forearms, hung with sharp, bony claws, ready and anxious to hug his body in a close and most loving embrace.—Page 83.
Affairs were, however, by no manner of means settled. [pg 85] They had the daring trespasser on their domain treed, and almost within their reach; and, indeed, to keep out of the way of their uncomely claws, Kit was obliged to gather himself up in the smallest possible space and cling to the topmost boughs. The bears now allowed themselves a short respite for breathing, during which they gave vent to their wrath by many shrill screeches. Then they renewed their endeavors to force the hunter from his resting place. Mounted on their hind paws they would reach for him; but, the blows with the stick, applied freely to their noses, would make them desist. In vain did they exhaust every means to force the man to descend; he was not to be driven or coaxed. The hard knocks they had sustained upon their noses had now aroused them almost to madness. Together they made one desperate effort to tear Kit from the tree. As in all their previous attempts, they were foiled, and their ardor dampened and cooled by the drumming operations upon their noses, which this time was so freely and strongly applied upon one of them as to make him lachrymate and cry out with pain. One at a time they departed; but, it was not until they had been out of sight and hearing for some time that Kit considered it safe to venture down from the tree; when, he hastened to regain and immediately to reload his rifle.
Thus ended an adventure in which Kit Carson considers that he failed to lose life and limb by the narrowest miss that ever occurred to him. Although he has killed much more than his quantum of this kind of game, and has gained what is a practical advantage to every western hunter, to wit: a knowledge of all their abilities [pg 86] with which they enforce sway, Kit Carson regards this adventure in the light of a warning. It is a warning too which he never allows himself to forget; consequently, whenever he has hunted since, he watches as closely for signs of Mr. Bruin as he does for the game he seeks; it would, therefore, be a difficult matter for the bears again to surprise him. Some of the most desperate battles on record between hunters and wild animals are narrated of encounters with the bear tribe.
Several years ago, a Mexican by the name of Armador Sanchez, still well known in the Rocky Mountains as a brave and skillful hunter, had a fight with a bear which lasted several hours. This terrible battle ended by both the combatants being laid prostrate upon the ground, so completely exhausted as to be utterly unable to reach each other from the want of physical strength. In this condition they spent one night; and, on the following morning, when the brave Mexican hunter had recovered sufficiently to be able to creep to his antagonist, he found him dead. This close conflict grew out of the hunter's noble daring in endeavoring to save the life of a Mexican boy, whom, at the instant the hunter attacked the beast, the bear was about to tear into pieces. At one time the bear had the youth in his terrible clutches in such a manner that it was impossible for him to plant a shot in any vital organ. But nothing daunted, with his rifle and revolver, he lodged several bullets in other parts of the fierce monster. Still the savage animal clung to the unfortunate boy, endeavoring to tear him to pieces, and horribly mangling him in every part of his body. The noble hunter could resist [pg 87] no longer, and dropping his pistols and rifle, he drew his sheath-knife and slung shot, and, after winding his blanket around his left arm to protects it, rushed in and compelled the animal to turn upon him. Wounds were freely given and returned; but, the wary Mexican fought with such dexterity and determination, that the bear finally became so mad with pain and rage that by a tremendous effort, with one blow of his powerful paw, he knocked the brave hunter headlong upon the ground, where he lay some time before recovering his breath. Instead of following up this advantage, the brute, doubtless being deceived because the man did not move, commenced examining and licking his own bleeding wounds. But the brave hunter had now got his spirit so completely up, that he determined to conquer his antagonist or die. Early in the fight, by a blow from his slung-shot, he had succeeded in breaking the bear's lower jaw. This had greatly disabled the animal and undoubtedly was the successful wound which eventually gave Sanchez the victory. When he felt himself sufficiently rested, he renewed the fight; and, by adopting various manœuvres, in which he was greatly assisted by some adjacent trees, succeeded in putting in several telling blows with his knife. Again the animal became aroused to madness unendurable, and, gathering himself up for a final effort, succeeded in planting a terrible blow on the hunter's head, which once more brought him to the ground. From this blow and the previous loss of blood, the brave man fainted entirely away. How long he remained in this state he could not tell; but, on becoming again conscious, he found that the victory was [pg 88] on his side, for the bear had already breathed his last. The poor boy, notwithstanding his wounds, as soon as the battle was decided; and, as he supposed, at the cost of his friend's life, started for a neighboring fort, and, reaching it the following morning, reported the affair. A party of men well armed immediately marched to the rescue. They found the brave hunter in a most pitiful condition, with his flesh terribly mangled, his clothes torn into ribbons, and his back and shoulders one mass of lacerated wounds. His reason had already become unseated. In his native language he would call out to his now visionary foe, "If you are a brave man, come on." Although the most delicate care and assistance was rendered to Sanchez, it was many weeks before he was able to resume his occupation; and, even then, he owed his life to the wonderful recuperative powers of his healthy and iron constitution. Had the fact been otherwise, he could not have survived his injuries. One more brave heart must have yielded its last drop of heroic blood in defence of youthful weakness. This picture, because it does not exaggerate the facts, we leave with regret; for, it is a pleasure to contemplate such nobility of character, whatever be the name which declares the governmental allegiance of the hero.
It is not going beyond the bounds of truth to assert that the grizzly bear of the Rocky Mountains is as formidable an enemy as the hunter is called upon to meet, wherever the hunting-ground and whatever the animal which opponents to our assertion may set up. When caught out on the open prairie, where he can be attacked on horseback and lassoed, the chances are [pg 89] against the bear; but, in a broken country, woe to his assailants, unless life is saved by some trick; or, happy fortune; a lucky shot; a telling blow, like Sanchez's with his slung-shot; or, the fanciful drumming, such as was Kit's, on the noses of his antagonists; or, some other equally singular and unlooked-for expedient. The weight of one of these monsters often runs as high as fifteen hundred pounds; and, their fore paws, which they can manage with the greatest dexterity, frequently measure fourteen inches. The courage, sagacity and skill invariably evinced by this species of bear, when engaged in a fight, is not equaled by any other wild animal on the face of the globe, not excepting the lion.
We take pleasure in here giving further publicity to the careful research and plain truths which have emanated from the pen of that distinguished and successful traveler Dr. Livingston. The new ideas which appear in his pages in regard to the courage of the "King of Beasts," have served, in a measure, to correct the general impression, and to bring down from its high-stilted hyperbole the courage, sagacity and terrible power of the lion, which, he states, are overrated. We do not desire to contradict published statements any farther than our own personal knowledge extends; hence, we give our authority for our statements in regard to the lion, very well satisfied ourself with Dr. Livingstone's love of truth and earnest candor. So much for the lion. Our statements in regard to the Rocky Mountain grizzly bear rest upon our own knowledge and investigation, gathered in his own haunts and on his own wild domain; and, as such, are given upon our own responsibility. Because [pg 90] brave American woodsmen can readily conquer the monarch of the American forest; and because the chicken-hearted Afric son, or dweller, trembles before the steady glare of the Afric King of Beasts, ergo his bearship must in popular opinion, play subordinate to his lionship. For the sake of truth, we should like to see the Spanish arena once open for a fighting encounter between a Rocky Mountain bear and an African lion, full and native grown specimens of each. The bull-fights all good men abhor; but, such a battle would serve to set at rest a fast-growing doubt among naturalists; and, so far, would prove available to science and the cause of truth. We would readily stake a purse on the bear.
With the Indians of the West, who live mostly by hunting, among whom, nine out of ten would, single handed, readily face a score of native lion spearsmen and, we verily believe, put them to flight; a man is considered a great brave who, alone, will undertake to kill a grizzly bear. If he succeeds, which is very rarely the case, his fortune in his tribe is made, once and for all. The reputation he gains will cling to and follow him into his grave and form one of the chief burdens of the tradition which bears his name to posterity. The Indians usually hunt and attack him in large parties; and, when the contest becomes really earnest, it requires a most immoderate amount of yelling, and fierce cry for the onset, to keep their bravery up in fighting trim. The victory is seldom gained without the sacrifice of several lives. The mounted hunter almost invariably finds it a difficult task to bring his charger even within shooting range of this kind of game. On an untrained [pg 91] or young horse the accomplishment of this feat is next to an impossibility; for, instinct seems to teach them the true character of the game even though they approach it for the first time.7
Darkness closed in about Kit Carson before he could reach his camp; and, indeed, the sky was so cloudy that it was with great difficulty he found his way to it. The idea of sending out a pack animal for the elk was out of the question; therefore, the whole party went, supperless, to bed. In the morning they breakfasted upon a beaver found in one of their traps; for, they well knew that, long before daylight, the prowling wolves had feasted upon the elk; hence, they resigned it without a visit. The flavor of the meat of the beaver is not very palatable and the trappers rarely use it; never when they can do better. Not so with its tail. To this they are very partial; and, when properly boiled, it is, indeed, a great delicacy.
Believing that Bridger would visit this place, Kit ordered his men to make a permanent camp. Kit's sagacity was not at fault in this hypothesis; for, in fifteen days, this famous old mountaineer made his appearance accompanied by his whole band. The two parties once more consolidated and started for the summer [pg 92] rendezvous, which was appointed to be held on the Green River.
Upon their arrival at this place, they found congregated, all the principal trappers of the Rocky Mountains. They were divided into two camps, and numbered about two hundred men. The objects which brought them thus together were, the disposal of their fur and the purchase of supplies.
When all the parties had reported their arrival, the trading commenced and was conducted upon a basis which gave general satisfaction. The most exorbitant and fabulous prices ruled for such articles as the mountaineers required. Sugar and coffee brought two dollars the pint; powder, the same; and ordinary blankets were sold at fifteen and twenty-five dollars each.
Coffee, sugar, and even flour, were luxuries not every day indulged in by the hardy mountaineers. They seldom partook of such dainties; not more frequently than two or three times in the year, and then, merely as rare treats. Their standard food was game and wild vegetables when in their season.
This meeting of the trappers continued in progress during two months. It was then dissolved; and, once more the bold mountaineers formed into bands of a size convenient for trapping, and started out to engage in the fall hunt. Kit Carson joined a party of fifty men which was bound for the country occupied by the Blackfeet Indians, and which lies on and adjacent to the head waters of the Missouri River. The party met with very poor success in catching beaver, but had their fill of annoyances from the tribe of savages already referred [pg 93] to. Finally the state of affairs between the trappers and the Indians became so desperate, that a white man could not leave his camp and go a distance of a single mile alone without being fired upon, so completely and untiringly was their camp surrounded and watched by this wily and dangerous tribe of Indians.
This state of affairs led them to the determination to quit the country, as the trapping season was far advanced. With this line of policy they began the march; and, in the month of November, 1832, arrived on the banks of the Big Snake River where they established winter quarters and remained until the subsequent February.
During these winter months, the quiet monotony of their life was unexpectedly broken in upon by a band of their old enemies, the Blackfeet Indians. Taking advantage of an unusually dark night they entered the camp and succeeded in running off eighteen of their horses. In consideration of their leniency displayed towards them when they were engaged trapping in their own country, then merely acting on the defensive, this act on the part of the savages appeared to the trappers to be more than they ought peaceably to bear. Such appeared to be the general opinion, and it was determined that a party should be sent out to recover the property and inflict a chastisement upon the hostile savages which they would not soon forget. Kit Carson with eleven men to accompany him was selected for this delicate but highly important service. Having prepared everything for the route, the party started and after fifty miles of sharp riding through the snow, came up with the savages. The [pg 94] progress of the Indians had been, fortunately, considerably retarded by the necessity of breaking a path through the deep snow, which had but very recently fallen. The trappers instantly made an attempt to recover their animals which were found grazing on the side of a hill, the Indians having previously come to a halt. In doing this, shots were exchanged by both parties without effect. The savages had on snow shoes which gave them considerable advantage over the trappers. After some manœuvering, the Indians asked for a parley which was granted. On these occasions, it is customary for one man from each party to advance to a spot about halfway between the contending parties and there have a talk. The rascals, through their representative, informed the trappers through their representative, that they had supposed that they had been committing a robbery upon the Snake Indians; and, that they did not desire to steal from the white men.
The trappers, believing these tales to be false, considered this a mere ruse on the part of the Indians to make them unwary of passing events. However, they put the very natural query to them, why, if they were so friendly disposed, they did not follow out their usual custom; and, on seeing them approach, lay down their arms and advance to meet their white brothers, so that they might have a smoke together and talk over their difficulties and thus amicably settle matters.
Their replies to this query contained nothing but evasions. Finally, however, it having been mutually agreed upon, both parties disarmed and marched to the place where their representatives were talking. The Calumet [pg 95] was then prepared, lighted and handed around to each person present, it being puffed once or twice by every one of the savages and every one of the whites. The council then commenced. The head men among the savages led off by making several lengthy and unmeaning speeches. In their replies, the trappers came directly to the point, and said they could hear no overtures for peace, until their property was restored to them. The Indians, upon hearing this demand several times repeated, began to presume upon their strength, assuming an overbearing demeanor. After considerable talk among themselves, they sent out and brought in five of the poorest horses, declaring that it was the only number they could return. The trappers, upon hearing this, ran for their arms; when, the Indians instantly started for theirs. The fight was now renewed by both parties. Kit Carson, in the rush made for the rifles, and one of his companions named Markhead, succeeded in getting hold of their weapons first; and consequently, they formed the advance in the return to the contest. They selected for their antagonists, two Indians who were close together; but, who were partially concealed behind separate trees. As Kit was on the point of raising his rifle to fire he saw by a quick side glance at Markhead, that he was working at the lock of his gun without paying attention to his adversary who was aiming at him with, almost, a certainty of killing him. Kit instantly changed the direction of his rifle and fired, sending a bullet through the heart of Markhead's adversary; but, in thus saving the life of his friend, he was obliged, for the instant, to neglect his own adversary. A quick glance [pg 96] showed him the fellow sighting over his rifle and that the mouth of the Indian's gun covered his breast. Upon the instant he endeavored to dodge the bullet, but he was unsuccessful in doing so completely. It struck him in such a way that, first cutting the skin of his neck and glancing, it passed through his left shoulder. The head of the bone, of the arm in the shoulder was shattered; but, fortunately, the main artery of the arm escaped injury. Notwithstanding his wound Kit immediately endeavored to reload his rifle. In this effort he was unsuccessful, for his left arm hung powerless by his side. He was obliged, therefore, to remain a mere spectator during the remainder of the fight; when, being overcome by the loss of blood and the consequent fast increasing weakness, he threw himself upon the ground. The fight continued to be hotly contested by both the trappers and Indians until, gradually, the firing ceased, when the trappers drew off and went into camp. They did not dare to light any fires, as they would inevitably bring the Indians upon them. With nothing but their saddle-blankets to protect them from the bitter cold, even the safe and sound members of the party suffered severely. Kit's condition failed not to arouse the heartfelt sympathy of his friends, for there was not one among them who would not have readily risked life and limb to save Kit's. But his condition was most critical; at the least, he was in a most unenviable condition. His wounds bled profusely, and, the blood, as it oozed out, froze to the rude dressings. This, undoubtedly, in the final result, was beneficial to him, as the cold acted as a partial check upon the hemorrhage. It was, however, none the less painful to endure. He [pg 97] bore his agonizing sufferings without a single murmur, exhibiting in patient fortitude and resignation the same brave spirit and dauntless courage which distinguished him in every action. Not once did a single complaint escape from his lips. Had he received this wound within the pales of civilization with its concomitant constitution, he might never have recovered the use of his arm. In the pure air, and with a constitution in the best possible trim, after all danger from hemorrhage had passed, his chances to recover were favorable; and, finally, resulted in giving him once more, the full use of his arm.
That night the trappers held a council. It was decided, that, although the result of the fight had been that they had given the Indians a sound thrashing, there having been several braves killed while they had suffered only in one wounded, they were, nevertheless, not then strong enough to pursue the savages farther. They adopted therefore the policy of returning to the camp and reporting their progress.
On their arrival, a council was immediately called and their adventures duly rehearsed. The result was that a second party was immediately organized comprising thirty men. Under the command of Bridger, this party followed the trail for some days, but returned to camp without finding the savages. They, after their late engagement, had made their way as fast as possible into distant parts. A short time after this, the weather moderated and it was time for the spring hunt.
This was now commenced and continued quite active for several weeks on the Green and Snake Rivers. The success of the trappers was far beyond their most sanguine [pg 98] expectations. Beaver fur seemed absolutely to rain down upon them. The season having passed, they went into summer rendezvous on the banks of the Green River. This was brought about by the arrival of the traders with their supplies. The whole force of trappers, therefore, again rested until the first week of September; when, they again broke up their camp for the fall hunt.
Some time previous to this last named event Kit Carson, having recovered from the effects of his wounds, was very reluctantly drawn into an "affair of honor." The circumstances of this occurrence we give in detail for two reasons. It was an event in Carson's life, and therefore is required at our hands; but, it serves to exhibit the manner of the duello among these western mountaineers which throws around the circumstance the importance of an example in their manners and customs. By itself, so far as Kit Carson was concerned, it was of very little importance, serving but little, in his opinion, to adorn the story of his life.
Among the men congregated at the rendezvous, there was a Captain Shunan, a powerful Frenchman. The Captain was exceedingly overbearing in his intercourse with all around him. Upon the slightest pretext, he was sure to endeavor to involve some of the trappers in a quarrel. The result was that he was heartily despised by all, although, for the sake of peace, he was allowed to go unmolested. One day his conduct was particularly offensive to the entire command; for, after having had two fist fights with a couple of weak and inoffensive men, he commenced boasting that he could easily flog [pg 99] all the Frenchmen present; and, as to the Americans, he said that "he could cut a stick and switch them." Such actions and manners, at last, attracted Kit Carson's notice and caused him to be greatly annoyed. He thought the matter over and concluded that if Captain Shunan was allowed to gather many more such detestable laurels, he would soon become even more bold and troublesome. As no other member of the company seemed disposed to put a check upon such unmanly behavior, he quietly determined to make the affair his own.
An opportunity soon presented itself. A number of the company had congregated together and were engaged in conversation, when Captain Shunan began anew his bullying language; this time a little more boisterous than usual. Kit Carson advancing into the centre of the company and placing himself in front of the Captain thus addressed him:
"Shunan, before you stands the humblest specimen of an American in this band of trappers, among whom, there are, to my certain knowledge, men who could easily chastise you; but, being peaceably disposed, they keep aloof from you. At any rate, I assume the responsibility of ordering you to cease your threats, or I will be under the necessity of killing you."
To this Captain Shunan did not reply; but, immediately after Kit Carson had closed his remarks, he turned upon his heel and walked directly for his lodge.
Kit Carson was too well versed in trapper rules not to read the meaning of this action. He, therefore, walked [pg 100] off also; but, in the direction of his own lodge. In a brief space of time, both men appeared before the camp, each mounted on their respective horses. The affair had drawn together the whole band, and they were now, quietly, so many witnesses of the facts here recorded.
Captain Shunan was armed with his rifle. Kit Carson had taken merely a single-barrel dragoon pistol which happened to be the first weapon that had fallen in his way, because of his hurry to be on the ground. The two men now rode rapidly towards one another, until their horses' heads almost touched, when both horsemen reined up, and Kit Carson addressed Captain Shunan as follows:
"Am I the person you are looking for?"
Captain Shunan replied, "No!"
It was apparent that this reply of Captain Shunan was a falsehood; for, while giving it utterance, he raised his rifle in the act of shooting, bringing it to his shoulder and covering his antagonist. Before, however, Captain Shunan could discharge his gun, the ball from Kit Carson's pistol shattered his forearm, causing the rifle to tilt upwards, which changed the direction of its contents in such a way that Kit Carson received a wound in his scalp while the powder severely burnt his face.
Before, however, Captain Shunan could discharge his gun, the ball from Kit Carson's pistol shattered his forearm.—Page 100.
It was the universal opinion of the spectators of this unhappy scene that both parties fired nearly at the same instant. The facts of the case show very plainly, first, that Captain Shunan's intent was to kill his antagonist. Why did he aim at Kit Carson's breast? Second, that Kit Carson's shot was delivered perhaps a second or two in advance of Captain Shunan's; third, that Kit Carson [pg 101] did not desire to kill his antagonist, but merely to save his own life, by disabling his adversary. The fact that his shot struck first and hit Captain Shunan's right arm is sufficient proof of this. When Kit Carson's well-known and indisputable skill with all kinds of fire-arms is taken into the account; and that, notwithstanding this skill, he hit his adversary in one of only two places (his right or left arms) which would have rendered his aim with the rifle uncertain, the statement that Kit Carson did not intend to kill his adversary becomes an incontrovertible fact. Last, had Kit Carson not gained a second in advance in the firing, he would have lost his own life, inevitably; and, the emphatic "No!" the lie of his antagonist, would have been crowned with success. Such plain deception seldom is allowed to triumph by an all-wise Providence.
In judging Kit Carson in this matter, the reader will commit an ungenerous error if he fails to allow to be placed, in the balance of judgment, the stirring deeds and daily hair-breadth risks Kit Carson, during so many years of his eventful life, was constantly called upon to take a part in and undergo. We take leave of this unfortunate scene in his life, feeling confident a just public opinion will see in it no cause to pluck from the brow of Kit Carson any of the laurels which it has been called upon to place there. As a man of truth, honor, virtue, and reverence for the laws of his country, Kit Carson has few equals and no superior among Americans. It needed not this incident to establish his courage; that had long been proven to be undoubted. Nor did the result elate his feelings in the least. He met his companions [pg 102] without a smile, and invariably expressed his regrets that he felt it to be his duty, for the good order and peace of the camp, to interfere in the matter. On the other hand, when he espoused the cause of the majority in maintaining the right, he was not a man to be easily thwarted. When the affair was ended, Kit was congratulated and received the thanks of nearly every individual present; for, each felt that a load of most vexatious and troublesome responsibility had been taken from his shoulders. The good fellowship immediately introduced into the camp was also a circumstance of mark.
The wounded man was carried to his quarters and every attention shown him in the power of his companions. His punishment had the effect completely to subdue him.
These duels among the old trappers of the Rocky Mountains were not very unfrequent occurrences. Men, situated as they were, beyond the reach of the mighty arm of the law, find it absolutely necessary to legislate for themselves. It is not within our province to advocate either the right or wrong of duelling; for, with the best of reasoning, there will always exist a difference of opinion on the subject. In the case of these mountaineers, when any serious offence was given, the man receiving the injury to body or fame held the right of demanding satisfaction. The interests of the entire band required an immediate settlement of difficulties, so that their future plans could be carried out in concert. In their dealings with each other they were strictly honorable; and when by any mischance a rogue crept into [pg 103] their ranks, if detected in any rascality, he was summarily and severely dealt with. Their duels were serious events; for, oftentimes both men were killed. In fact, the case could hardly be otherwise. They were men of unflinching courage, and their weapons were generally rifles, which, from long practice, they held with a certain and deadly aim. We cannot better close this passage in the life of Kit Carson than to quote the language held in 1846 by the Biographer8 of the great explorer, JOHN CHARLES FREMONT:
"He" (Christopher Carson) "is a remarkably peaceable and quiet man, temperate in his habits, and strictly moral in his deportment. In a letter written from California, in 1847, introducing Carson as the bearer of dispatches to the government, Col. Fremont says: 'with me, Carson and truth mean the same thing. He is always the same—gallant and disinterested.' He is kind-hearted, and averse to all quarrelsome and turbulent scenes, and has never been engaged in any mere personal broils or encounters, except on one single occasion, which he sometimes modestly describes to his friends. The narrative is fully confirmed by an eye-witness, of whose presence at the time he was not aware, and whose account he has probably never seen or heard of. I shall tell the story as it is gathered from them both.9
[pg 104]"In the year 1835, the Rev. Samuel Parker made an exploring and missionary tour, under the auspices of the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, beyond the Rocky Mountains, and as far as the settlements on the Columbia River. In his printed journal he gives an account of the incident to which I am referring; it occurred on the 12th of August, at a point on the borders of Green River, beyond the South Pass, on the occasion of a 'rendezvous,' that is, on a spot selected for Indians, trappers, and hunters to bring to market their peltries, and obtain supplies from the agents of the Fur Companies. There was a large concourse of savage tribes, and all the various denizens of the wilderness. There were Frenchmen, Spaniards, Dutchmen, Canadians, and Western backwoodsmen. The Rev. Mr. Parker happened to be there, to witness the strange gathering. Of course there were some rude characters, and not a little irregularity and disorder. Conflicts were liable to arise between quarrelsome persons, growing out of the feuds among the tribes, and animosities between the representatives of different nations, all actuated by pride of race or country.
"A hunter, named Shunan, a Frenchman, who was well known by the title of the 'big bully of the mountains,' mounted his horse with a loaded rifle, and dashing defiantly around, challenged any person, of any nationality, to meet him in single combat. He boasted of his exploits, and used the most insulting and irritating language, and was particularly insolent and abusive towards Americans, whom he described as only worth [pg 105] being whipped with switches. Kit Carson was in the crowd, and his patriotic spirit kindled at the taunt. He at once stepped forward and said, 'I am an American, the most trifling one among them, but if you wish to die, I will accept your challenge.' Shunan defied him. Carson at once leaped upon his horse, with a loaded pistol, and both dashed into close conflict. They fired, almost at the same moment, but Carson an instant the quickest. Their horses' heads touched. Shunan's ball just grazed Carson's cheek, near the left eye, and cut off some locks of his hair. Carson's ball entered Shunan's hand, came out at the wrist, and passed through his arm above the elbow. The bully begged his life, and it was spared.
"This put an effectual stop to all such insolent proceedings, and Americans were insulted no longer. Carson is still living, being yet, indeed, in his prime. His faithful commander has recorded his name on the geography of the continent, by calling after him a river and a lake, in the great basin they explored together."
[pg 106]The Fall Hunt—McCoy of the Hudson's Bay Company organizes a Trapping Party which Kit Carson joins—The Hunt—Scarcity of Beaver on Humboldt River—The Party is divided—Kit Carson with a majority of the Men goes to Fort Hall—Hardships and Privations met with—Buffalo Hunt—All their Animals stolen in the Night by a Party of Blackfeet Indians—Arrival of McCoy from Fort Walla Walla—The Rendezvous—Kit Carson joins a strong Band—The Small Pox among the Blackfeet Indians—The Crow Indians on good terms with the Whites—Intense Cold—Immense Herds of Buffalo—Danger of their goring to death the Horses—The Spring Hunt—The Blackfeet Indian Village overtaken—A desperate Fight with these Indians—The Rendezvous—Sir William Stuart and a favorite Missionary—Kit Carson goes on a Trading Expedition to the Navajoe Indians—The Return—He accepts the post of Hunter of the Trading Post at Brown's Hole.
Arrangements for the fall hunt were now in active progress among the trappers. Though the reader may find some similarity of fact and idea as we progress in this part of the Life of Kit Carson, the interest which hangs about it, nevertheless, will not, or should not be dampened, because this pen-painting of his long and active experience is a better and more faithful exhibit of those qualifications, knowledge and skill which afterwards made him, first the guide and then the bosom friend of the illustrious Fremont, than any assertions whether authenticated by published record, whether rested upon statement on knowledge, information and belief of acquaintances and friends, or, whether facts taken from the thousand allusions to his exploits which have from time to time flooded the press of the United States.
[pg 107]The company of trappers which had been so fortunate as to secure the services of Kit Carson, for facts seem now to warrant us in employing this language of just praise, set out for the Yellow Stone River, which stream they safely reached, and on which they set their traps. Dame Fortune here seemed to be in unpleasant mood. Crossing the country from the Yellow Stone to the Big Horn River, they again courted the old lady's smile with stoical patience, but with no better results. They next extended their efforts to the three forks of the Missouri River; also, to the Big Snake River. The fickle old lady proved scornful on all these streams, and finally, on the latter stream and its tributaries they wintered.
In this section of the country they fell in with Mr. Thomas McCoy, a trader who was in the employ of the Hudson's Bay Company. In his trading operations Mr. McCoy had been unsuccessful and had concluded to organize a trapping expedition. The inducements which he held out led Kit Carson and five of his companions to become members of his party. With him they traveled to Mary's River,10 from whence reports had circulated that beaver existed in great abundance. The party struck upon this stream high up and slowly followed it down to where it is lost in the Great Basin. Their success here was not satisfactory; consequently, the party returned to the Big Snake River. By McCoy's direction the party tarried upon this river for some time when it was divided. McCoy and a small escort started for Fort Walla Walla. Kit Carson and the majority of [pg 108] the men took up their line of march for Fort Hall. While en route, the latter division was subjected to the greatest privations imaginable. Among the worst of these was hunger, as their trail led through a barren region of country. For a short time, they managed to subsist upon a small supply of nutritious roots which had been provided in advance. This source finally gave out, when their affairs assumed a most desperate attitude. To keep from starving, they bled their mules and drank the warm red blood with avidity, so acutely had the days of fasting sharpened their appetites. This operation, however could not be repeated without endangering the lives of their animals. These also were on a short allowance of food, for the grass was very poor and scanty. The whole party had become frightfully reduced in strength, and began to think it necessary to kill some of their animals, which at this time they could but ill spare. In this terrible condition they met with a band of Indians who proved to be of a friendly disposition. The party was then only about four days' journey from Fort Hall. Most unhappily, the Indians themselves possessed but a scanty supply of provisions, and no more than their immediate wants required. It was not without considerable manœuvering and talk, during which all the skill and Indian experience possessed by Kit Carson were brought into active requisition, that the savages were prevailed upon to trade with the trappers. By the trade the half famished men obtained a fat horse, which was immediately killed, and on which they regaled with as much relish as the epicure in the settlements enjoys his "joint of roast beef."
[pg 109]To a man not accustomed to this kind of meat, mule flesh and horse flesh would not be likely to prove over tempting or appropriate viands. Let him feel the pangs of hunger very sharply, and his ideas of lusciousness and propriety in respect to food will rapidly change. The civilized world has condemned the practice as belonging to barbarians. A mountaineer, not being quite so fastidious, scouts these ideas, considering them foolish prejudices of people who have never been forced by necessity to test the wisdom of their condemnation. Let the epicurean sages have their choice, eat horse flesh or starve, and, they confidently maintain, horse flesh would gradually grow to be considered a dainty, the rarer over beef, in proportion to its greater cost.
The trappers of the western prairies, who wander thousands of miles over barren as well as fertile lands, where game cannot exist from stern necessity, are compelled to submit to all kinds of vicissitudes; but, with buoyant spirits, they conquer results, which, a faint heart and yielding courage would behold almost in their grasp but fail to reach.
An emergency calls forth skill and great energies; and, in an unexplored country where, as in the case here recorded, everything living suddenly disappears, it is then that the wits of a trapper save his life when an ordinary traveler would lie down and die.
Kit Carson and his men, at last, succeeded in reaching Fort Hall. They were kindly received and amply provided for by the whites who then occupied it as a trading post. Here they rapidly recruited their strength, and in the course of a few days felt able to start out [pg 110] upon a buffalo hunt. Reports had come in that large numbers of buffalo existed in close proximity to the Fort. Kit Carson and his men were not the kind who live upon the bounty of others when game can be had in return for the necessary effort to find. They were also not the men to hoard their stock of provisions whenever they met parties in distress. The first query which different bands of trappers offer to each other on meeting in the wilderness, is, "Does game exist in plenty," or "is game plenty in such and such sections of country?" This takes precedence over the commonplace question, "What's the news?" Oftentimes, when venturing into distant and unexplored districts of territory they were obliged to take their chances of finding sustenance; but, they hardly ever neglected an opportunity to inform themselves on the subject: on the contrary, they often sacrificed both time and profits in order to secure correct details. Any other course would have been fool-hardy rashness, just fit for parties of over-bold inexperience to take the consequences of.
Hunting the buffalo is a manly and interesting sport; and, as Kit Carson on this occasion engaged in it with successful results, it might be interesting to the general reader, and, in this place the unity of the narrative seems to require, a complete and practical description of the manner of taking the buffalo. We have, however deferred this part of our duty to an occasion when Kit Carson had his friend John C. Fremont upon his first buffalo hunt. We shall then permit the bold Explorer to tell the story of a buffalo hunt in our behalf.11
[pg 111]During their sojourn at Fort Hall, the hardy trappers were not idle. Besides the calls upon them by the hunt, they set to work with great industry repairing their saddles, clothing and moccasins. With the aid of a few buck-skins, usually procured from Indians, and a few rude tools, they soon accomplished wonders.
To give the reader an appropriate view of the genius to conquer obstacles displayed by the mountaineers, he must picture one of them just starting upon a long journey over the prairies and through the mountains. His wagon and harness trappings, if he chances to be possessed of worldly effects sufficient to warrant him in purchasing a first-class outfit, present a neat and trim appearance. Follow him to the point of his destination, and there the reader will discover, perhaps, a hundredth part of the original vehicle and trappings. While en route, the bold and self-reliant man has met with a hundred accidents. He has been repeatedly called upon to mend and patch both wagon and harness, besides his own clothing. Though he now presents a dilapidated appearance, he is none the less a man; and, if his name is known as a regular trapper and mountaineer, he is immediately a welcomed and honored guest. If the broadcloth of a prince covered his back, spotless, scientifically shaped and foreign woven, his reception would not be more heartfelt and sincerely cordial. It is amusing to see the raw-hide patches of harness, wagon and clothing, now become dry and hard as oak. To have dispensed with the use of buckskin on his route, would have been like cutting off the right arm of the gallant pioneer. Buckskin and the western wilds of America [pg 112] are almost synonymous terms; at least, the one suggests the other, and therefore they are of the same brotherhood. The traveler in these regions of this day fails not to learn and appreciate its value. It has not only furnished material for clothing, but has been used to repair almost every article in daily use. Even the camp and tea-kettle, as well as the frying, milk and saucepan, bedstead and hammock, chair and table, all have had their buckskin appendage, as fast as any of them have become injured or broken.
Everything being in readiness, Carson set out with his followers for their hunting-grounds. Their pace was one of so much rapidity, that after one day's march they discovered signs of the buffalo. On the following morning immense herds were in sight. A suitable place for a camp was soon selected, and everything which could impede their work well stowed away. The best marksmen were selected for hunters, and the remainder of the party detailed to take care of the meat as fast as the hunters should bring it in. Poles were planted on the open prairies, and from one to the other ropes of hide were stretched. Upon these ropes strips of the buffalo meat were hung for curing, which consists of merely drying it in the sun's rays. After it is sufficiently dried, it is taken down and bound up in bundles. During the time of hunting and curing, the trappers feasted upon the delicacies of the game, which consist of the tongue, liver and peculiar fat which is found along the back of the buffalo. Their past sufferings from hunger had made them so determined in the work of procuring game, that in a few days they possessed meat sufficient [pg 113] to load down all their pack animals. They now thought about returning to Fort Hall. Their pace, however, rendered so by their weighty game, was very slow. Their old enemies, the Blackfeet Indians, had discovered them while engaged in this hunt. They followed them on the march to the Fort, the trappers being wholly unaware of their presence; in fact, the idea of hostile Indians had not troubled their thoughts.
Two or three nights after they arrived at the Fort, taking advantage of a dark evening, the Indians deprived them of all their animals. This was the result of carelessness on the part of one of the men, which, under the circumstances, was excusable. The party had encamped just without the pickets of the Fort, but had taken the precaution to secure their horses and mules while they slept, by placing them in the corral12 belonging to the station. A sentinel was put upon duty over the corral, in order to make everything doubly secure. In the latter part of the night, nearly at daybreak, the sentinel saw two persons advance and deliberately let down the bars leading into the yard and drive out the animals. He mistook these men for two of his companions who were authorized to take the herd out to graze. Concluding, therefore, without going to them, that he was relieved, he sought his resting-place and was soon fast asleep. In the morning, anxious inquiries were made for the horses and mules, when a very short investigation revealed the truth of matters. It was, undoubtedly, very fortunate for the sentinel that he fell into the error alluded to. It was very apparent that the two advanced [pg 114] Indians who let down the bars were backed up by a strong party. The signs of Indians, discovered afterwards, proved this beyond a doubt. Their reserve party were posted where the least resistance on the part of the sentinel would have been followed by his quick and certain death. This successful theft was, no doubt, considered by the Indians a cause for great rejoicing. It may have formed the basis of promoting the brave who planned and directed it, as the animals had been obtained without the loss of a man or even the receiving of a wound. The parties living at the Fort were equally as poorly off for horses and mules as were now the trappers. The same Indians had recently performed the same trick upon them. The loss was most severely felt by the trappers, inasmuch as they had not a single animal left upon which to give chase. Nothing remained for them to enact, except a stoical indifference over their loss and await the return of McCoy, who had agreed, after finishing his business at Fort Walla Walla, to rejoin, them at Fort Hall.
This tribe of Indians, the Blackfeet, whose meddlesome dispositions have so frequently brought them in contact with Kit Carson in such and dissimilar affairs, occupy the country on the Yellow Stone River and about the head waters of the Missouri. There are other tribes in close proximity, the most important of which is the tribe called the Crows. When Kit Carson first entered upon his wild career the Blackfeet Indians numbered nearly thirty thousand souls. They were greatly reduced in numbers within the next six or seven years, between 1832 and 1839. In the last-named year, in consequence [pg 115] of the ravages of the small pox, heretofore alluded to and which prevailed the year previous, they had lost at least fifty per cent. The Indian computations of 1850, according to Brownell, give their numbers at only about thirteen thousand. They are one of the finest races of the American Aborigines. Powerful in frame and development; well trained in horsemanship, although in this they are surpassed by the Camanches; capable of great endurance; and, usually well fitted as to arms, dress, horse trappings, et cætera, they generally prove knotty customers as enemies. We ought not to pass by this notice of the Blackfeet Indians without calling the attention of the inquisitive reader to a remarkable proof which is afforded by the whole intercourse of these western trappers with the Blackfeet Indians, as thus detailed by Kit Carson, of an assertion hazarded some years ago by Charles De Wolf Brownell, in his admirable work upon the Indian races of North and South America. On pages 465-6, Mr. Brownell comes to the defence of the Crow tribe of Indians, which, up to that time, had been characterized as a "lawless, thieving horde of savages." "But," says Mr. Brownell, "those best acquainted with their character and disposition, speak of them as honest and trustworthy." The adventures of Kit Carson among both the Crow and the Blackfeet Indians, we think, demonstrate pretty conclusively which of these contiguous tribes are the horse stealers. The Crows, it will be remembered, are more particularly inhabitants of the mountainous regions. The Blackfeet have ever been their sworn and implacable foes. Their burials of the hatchet have been few and far between, and never in [pg 116] deep soil. It is not, therefore, to be wondered at that the Blackfeet reputation should extend to the Crows; but, although circumstances exist which condemn the latter, they are few in number compared with the sins laid by the traders and trappers at the tent-doors of the former.
After the lapse of one month McCoy made his appearance and, most opportunely, brought an extra supply of animals. The camp was soon struck and the whole band started for the rendezvous, which had been appointed to convene at the mouth of Horse Creek on the Green River. They reached this place after several days of hard travel. As usual, trading operations did not commence until all the regular bands of trappers had arrived and reported. They were then commenced and continued through a period of twenty days. Here Kit Carson left the company under McCoy and joined a company under the management of a Mr. Fontenelle which numbered one hundred men. This party went to and trapped on the Yellow Stone River. On commencing operations the party was divided into fifty trappers and fifty keepers. The duties of the former were to take the beaver and provide game for food. The latter to guard their property and cook. The trappers were now in the midst of their sworn foes, the Blackfeet Indians. They felt themselves sufficiently strong and were desirous to pay off old scores. They therefore trapped where they pleased, being determined to dispute the right of possession to the country if attacked. They were not, however, molested. A good reason appeared for this, soon after, brought by some friendly Indians belonging to the [pg 117] Crow Tribe. They informed the whites that the small pox was making terrible havoc with the Blackfeet Indians. Thousands were dying and fears were entertained that the whole tribe would be cut off. In order to attend to their sick they had secluded themselves. The trapping season being nearly over, as the streams began to freeze, the party commenced looking out for a camping site.
In conjunction with the main body of the Crow nation they proceeded to a well protected valley and erected their lodges, making themselves as comfortable as possible under the circumstances. As the season advanced, the cold became more severe, until at last, it was more intense than ever before experienced by the trappers or Indians. Fuel, however, was abundant, and, excepting the inconvenience of keeping unusually large fires, they suffered but little. Not so with their animals. It was with the greatest difficulty that they preserved them from starvation. By the most unwearied exertions, however, they succeeded in obtaining food enough barely to keep them alive until the weather became more mild and auspicious. At one time the crisis was so imminent, that the trappers were compelled to resort to cottonwood trees, thawing the bark and small branches, after gathering them, by their fires. This bark was torn from the trees in shreds sufficiently small for the animals to masticate. The Indians of the Rocky Mountains, when suffering from hunger, are often driven to the extremity of eating this material. For miles, not unfrequently, the traveler discovers these trees denuded of their bark, after a party has passed through on their way to find the buffalo. [pg 118] The rough, outside cuticle is discarded, and the tender texture, next to the body of the tree, is the part selected for food. It will act in staying the appetite, but cannot, for any great length of time, support life. It is dangerous to allow starving animals to eat freely of it; the trappers, therefore, feed it to them but sparingly.
The intense cold operated to bring upon them another serious annoyance in the shape of immense herds of starving buffalo, which, goaded on by the pangs of hunger, would watch for an opportunity to gore the animals and steal their scanty allowance of provender. It was only by building large fires in the valleys and constantly standing guard that the trappers succeeded in keeping them off.
During the winter, to beguile the time, the whites vied with their Indian allies in many of their sports. As game existed in superabundance, always ready for a loaded rifle, both parties were contented and happy. Time flew away rapidly and soon brought again the sunshine of spring with the buds and blossoms, gay wild flowers, green herbage and forest verdure. For the purpose of procuring supplies, the trappers dispatched two messengers to Fort Laramie. They did not return and were never again heard from. The conclusion which gained belief was, that they had been murdered by the Sioux Indians. The party waited as long as they possibly could for the return of their two companions, but, finally, were compelled to commence the spring hunt without them. They trapped a short time on the Yellow Stone River and then went to the Twenty-Five-Yard River. From thence they proceeded to the head waters [pg 119] of the Missouri, and, on the most northern of its forks, remained some time, meeting with considerable success. Here they obtained news of the Blackfeet Indians, which showed that the ravages of the small pox had been greatly over estimated. They were still nearly as strong, and in character, had not at all become subdued. Upon drawing near to the source of this river, they discovered that the main village of these savages, their old foes, was in close proximity. This was pleasing intelligence to the trappers. They had suffered too many unprovoked insults at their hands not to desire the avenging of their wrongs and to punish them by way of retaliation. During the whole winter, and, in fact, from the time the party was first organized, they had anxiously abided their opportunity to meet and punish the rascally Blackfeet warriors. The old scores, or sores, had been festering too long, and here was a chance to probe them satisfactorily.
The party cautiously followed upon the trail which led to the Indian encampment until within one day's journey of it. Here they came to a halt. Kit Carson, with five men, was sent in advance to reconnoitre. Upon approaching the Indians, the reconnoitering party discovered them busily engaged driving in their animals to saddle and pack, and making such other preparations necessary to the effecting of a hurried decampment. Kit and his companions hastened back and reported the results of their observations. A council was immediately held which decided to send out forty-three picked men to give battle; and, for the commander of this party, Kit Carson was unanimously elected. The [pg 120] fifty-five men left behind under Mr. Fontenelle had the onerous duty of guarding the animals and equipage. It was a part of the programme, also, that the latter force should move on slowly and act as a reserve in case of need.
Kit Carson and his command were in fine spirits and lost no time in overhauling the village. In the first charge they killed ten of the bravest warriors. The savages quickly recovered from this blow and commenced retreating in good order. For three consecutive hours they heroically received a series of these furious and deadly assaults without offering much resistance. At the end of this time the firing of the mountaineers began to slacken, as their ammunition was running low. These experienced and brave, though rascally Indians, soon surmised the cause of this sudden change of affairs. Rallying their forces, they turned upon their assailants in right good earnest and a desperate hand-to-hand engagement ensued. The white men now had an opportunity to use their small arms, which told with such terrible effect upon their foes that they were soon driven back again. They, however, rallied once more and charged so manfully that the trappers were forced to retreat. In this latter engagement a horse belonging to a mountaineer by the name of Cotton, fell, throwing his rider and holding him on the ground by his weight. This happened as he was passing a point of rocks. Six of the warriors, seeing the accident, instantly hurried forward to take Cotton's scalp. But Kit Carson's eagle eye was watching every part of the battle-field and discovered, in time to be of service, the danger to which [pg 121] his friend was exposed. Although some distance off, Kit sprang from his saddle, and, with the leap of an antelope and the rallying cry for his men, was on the ground, ready to make a certain shot. His aim and the crack of his rifle almost belonged to the same instant of time. It was none the less sure. The foremost warrior, a powerful savage, whose fingers evidently itched for the scalp of the mountaineer, fell, shot through the heart. By this time others had followed the bold example of their leader, when the five remaining warriors, seeing the imminent danger which threatened them, turned to run back into their band. But two of them however reached a place of safety. The remainder, caught in their fleet career by the unerring and death-dealing bullets of the mountaineers, measured their lengths upon the battle-ground, stricken with wounds which demanded and received from them their last wild war-whoop.
Kit Carson's eagle eye was watching every part of the battle-field and discovered, in time to be of service, the danger to which his friend was exposed. Although some distance off, Kit sprang from his saddle, and, with the leap of an antelope and the rallying cry for his men, was on the ground ready to make a certain shot.—Page 120.
When Kit Carson fired, his horse, being under no restraint, became frightened and dashed away, leaving his brave rider on foot. Kit however instantly comprehended his position. The fallen horseman had succeeded in extricating himself, but not without difficulty, for the ground was very uneven. He had received a few pretty severe contusions, but was, notwithstanding these, worth a dozen Indians yet, and failed not to show the fact. Seeing Cotton thus all right, Kit Carson made his way to one of his companions, and, as the fighting had, apparently by mutual consent, ceased for a few moments, mounted up behind him and thus rejoined the main body of his men. The runaway horse, after quite [pg 122] a chase, was soon captured by a trapper and returned to his captain. A period of inactivity now reigned over the battle-field, each party apparently waiting for the other to again open the ball. During this resting spell, the reserve division of the trappers came in sight, having been anxiously expected for some time. The Indians showed no fear at this addition to the number of their adversaries. On the contrary, being no doubt carried away by their recent success in making a stand, they commenced posting themselves among the rocks about one hundred and fifty yards distant from the position taken up by the trappers. The arrival of the reserve was a great relief to the advance, because, they were tired of fighting without ammunition. Having well filled their ammunition pouches they once more became eager for the affray. Everything being in readiness, with a cheer, they started on foot to attack and dislodge the enemy. In a few moments was commenced the severest skirmish of the day. It became so exciting that frequently a trapper would occupy one side, and a stalwart warrior the other, of some large rock, each intent upon the life of his adversary. In such cases it required the closest watchfulness and the utmost dexterity to kill or dislodge the bold savage. The power of powder in the hands of skillful men soon began to assert its superiority in the battle, and when once the Indians commenced to waver, it was all over with them. Their first wavering soon broke into a complete rout, when they ran for their lives. As they scattered in every direction, the pursuit which followed was short. In this battle the trappers considered that they had thoroughly [pg 123] settled all outstanding accounts with the Blackfeet Indians, for they had killed a large number of their warriors and wounded many more. On their side three men only were killed and a few severely wounded.
Fontenelle and his men camped for a few days in the vicinity of the scene of their late engagement, burying their dead and repairing damages. They then resumed the business of trapping, traversing the Blackfeet country whenever they chose without fear of molestation. The success in their late engagement seemed to follow them in their business, for their stock of fur accumulated rapidly.
While they were encamped upon Green River, an express rider, sent by the traders, came into camp and informed the party that the rendezvous would be held on Mud River. With a large stock of beaver, the party started for that place, arriving in eight days.
Besides the usual traders and trappers, the party met at this rendezvous some missionaries and a distinguished English nobleman, Sir William Stuart. Of this latter gentleman, Kit Carson says: "For the goodness of his heart and numerous rare qualities of mind, he will always be remembered by those of the mountaineers who had the honor of his acquaintance."
Among the missionaries was "Old Father De Smidt," as he afterwards came to be familiarly called. This gentleman is at present well known as being a leading literary and religious man at St. Louis, Missouri. Perhaps there never was a person in the wilds of America who became so universally beloved both by the white and red man. While in the mountains, he acted with [pg 124] untiring zeal for the good of all with whom he came into contact. Wherever duty called him, there he was sure to be found, no matter what the obstacles or dangers spread upon the path. He worked during a long series of years in these dangerous localities, and accomplished much good. When, at last, he returned to civilization, he left an indelible name behind him.
In twenty days after the camp at the rendezvous was formed, it broke up again into small parties. Kit Carson, with seven companions, went to Brown's Hole. This was a trading post. Here they found two traders who were contemplating getting up a business expedition to the Navajoe Indians. This tribe exhibits more traces of white blood than any other of the wild races in North America. They are brave and fond of owning large possessions. These consist chiefly of immense herds of fine horses and sheep. In this respect they are not unlike the ancient inhabitants of the earth, who "watched their roving store" on Syrian soil and the contiguous countries. The parties who desired to trade with them usually carried a stock of trinkets and articles of use, for which they received horses, mules, blankets and lariets.13
Navajoe blankets are very celebrated in the far west of America, and especially in old Mexico, where they are in great demand and command high prices. Many of these articles are really beautiful, and, from their fine texture, together with the great amount of labor spent [pg 125] in their manufacture, are expensive, even when purchased of the Indians. The art of weaving these blankets has been long known to the Navajoe Indians; and, all the female children belonging to the nation are taught the art during their earliest years. It is only after much practice, however, that they become expert.
Kit Carson joined the two traders, whose names were Thompson and Sinclair, and made the trip with them which they had planned. They realized very handsomely from it, bringing back a large drove of very fine mules. The animals were driven to the Fort on the South Fork of the Platte, where they were disposed of at fair prices. Having received his share of the profits, Kit returned again to Brown's Hole. The season was too far gone for him to think of joining another trapping expedition that fall. He therefore began to look about for some suitable employment for the winter. As soon as it became known that his services were open for an engagement, several offers were made him, all of which he rejected. The reader will doubtless see a contrast between the Kit Carson renowned as a trapper and hunter and the Kit Carson who, at Taos, only a few years before, was glad to hire out as a cook, in order to gain his daily sustenance. For some time, strong inducements of high wages had been held out to him by the occupants of the Fort, in order to prevail upon him to accept the responsible and arduous office of Hunter to the Fort. The task of supplying, by the aid of the rifle, all the flesh twenty men would naturally consume during an entire winter, formed the duty required and expected from this officer. The inducements were so tempting, [pg 126] the task so congenial with his feelings, and, withal, the urgent persuasions of the men so pressing, that Kit Carson finally accepted the offer and entered upon his duties. He soon showed the company that he knew his business, and could perform it with an ease and certainty which failed not to elicit universal esteem and commendation. When the time arrived for him to resign the office in the Spring, he left behind him golden opinions of his skill as a marksman.
[pg 127]Bridger and Carson trapping on the Black Hills—The Main Camp—The Rendezvous—Winter Quarters on the Yellow Stone—Carson with forty men in a desperate fight with the Blackfeet Indians—A Council—Sentinel posted—One Thousand Warriors come to punish the Trappers—The War Dance—The Courage of the Savages deserts them—Winter Quarters—The Spring Hunt—Another Fight with the Blackfeet—Continued Annoyances—The Trappers abandon the Country—The Rocky Mountains and Alps compared—Other Trapping Expeditions—Beaver becoming scarce—Prices of Fur reduced—Kit Carson and the Trappers give up their Vocation—The Journey to Bent's Fort—Mitchell the Mountaineer—His Eccentricities.
In the spring, Kit Carson joined Bridger. With four companions they went to the Black Hills to hunt. In the streams adjacent to that country, the beaver existed in large numbers and their success in trapping was excellent.
Soon after arriving, however, the party broke up. Kit Carson and a trapper named Owens made a hunt by themselves and were very fortunate in obtaining a large stock of the fur. After which they joined the main camp of the trappers on Green River. When the summer was pretty well advanced, the camp was broken up and all of its occupants started for the Rendezvous, this year held on the Popoayhi, a branch of the Wind River.
In the fall, most of the trappers went to the country which lies in the immediate neighborhood of the Yellow Stone River. Having trapped all the streams there, they went into winter quarters on that stream.
Nothing was heard of their sworn enemies, the Blackfeet [pg 128] Indians until about the middle of the winter. A party who were out hunting suddenly came upon some signs which, looking suspicious, attracted their attention. To these signs they gave a close investigation, and fully made up their minds that they were close to the stronghold of their foes. Without waiting to follow up the signs they immediately retraced their steps and informed their party in camp of their conviction that trouble was brewing. A command of forty men was instantly detailed to seek out the Indians and give them battle. Kit Carson was once more called upon to lead the brave trappers in this expedition, and everything was left to his direction and good judgment. Soon after commencing their march, the company fell in with a scouting party of the enemy in the vicinity of the spot where the fresh signs had been discovered. To this party the trappers gave chase, wisely concluding they would run for their main body. The result satisfied their anticipations. In a short time they found themselves opposed to a strong band of the Indians, when, a regular fight was instantly commenced. After quite a spirited contest, the Indians gave way and retreated, but in good order, to an island in the Yellow Stone River where they had previously erected strong barricades. Night put a stop to the scenes of the day and further action was deferred until the next morning. As soon as the light would again warrant it, the trappers plunged into the stream and made for the island, being determined to dislodge the Indians. To their great dismay the brave savages had already retreated having quietly given them the slip during the night.
[pg 129]The result of the battle the day before was now made apparent. It was evident that not much powder had been wasted in the action. The snow within the fortification was red with fresh blood, and from the place a bloody trail led to a hole in the ice of the stream where a large number of lifeless bodies had been sunk. There was nothing now to be done except to return to camp. Upon their arrival a council was convened to devise measures and plans for their future conduct. It was quite evident to all that the campaign had but just commenced. It was the general impression that the main village of the Blackfeet tribe had been located within a few miles. When therefore the news of their recent severe loss should be carried there by the survivors in the battle, active measures would be set on foot to seek revenge. It was the decision of the council that the trappers should act chiefly on the defensive. Measures were immediately set on foot to guard against surprise. To make everything doubly secure, none but the most trusty and well-tried men were detailed to perform sentinel duty. Near their camp there was a very lofty hill which commanded a fine view of the surrounding country. Upon this eminence they posted a sentinel throughout the day time. Their arrangements having been all determined upon and plans laid, the execution of them, to men so well skilled in frontier life, occupied but little time. Notwithstanding this celerity in their movements they had been none too quick. Soon after their preparations were fully made, the sentinel on the hill gave his signal indicating the approach of the Indians, showing that their precaution in this respect had [pg 130] been a wise one. The order was immediately given to erect strong breastworks. This task was so successfully accomplished, that, in a few hours, they had prepared a little fortress, which, covered with their unerring rifles, was impregnable against any force the Indians could bring against it. The advance party of the savages soon appeared in sight, but when they discovered the strength of the trappers, they halted and awaited, distant about half a mile from the breastwork, the arrival of the rest of the band. It was three days before the whole force of the Indians had arrived. They mustered about one thousand warriors. It was a sight which few white men of the American nation have looked upon. Arrayed in their fantastic war costume and bedaubed with paint, armed with lances, bows and arrows, rifles, tomahawks, knives, etc., some mounted and some on foot, they presented a wild and fearful scene of barbaric strength and fancy. Soon after their last company had reported, the frightful war-dance, peculiar to the American savages, was enacted in sight of the trappers' position. The battle songs and shouts which accompanied the dance reached the ears of the whites with fearful distinctness. Any other than hearts of oak with courage of steel would have quailed before this terrible display of savage enmity and ferocity. This dance, to men so well skilled in the ways of the Indian warrior, was a sure signal that the next day would be certain to have a fearful history for one party or the other and doubtless for both. The odds, most assuredly, were apparently greatly in favor of the savage host and against the little band of hardy mountaineers.
[pg 131]The following day the expectations of the trappers were realized. The Indians, at the first dawn of day, approached the breastwork, eager for the battle. They were, evidently, very much astonished at beholding the invincibility of the trappers' position. It was what they had not calculated upon and seemed to cast a perfect damper upon their courage. After firing a few shots which did no harm, and seeing that nothing could be accomplished except by a charge, they commenced a retreat. The trappers, though only sixty strong, were filled with disappointment and chagrin at the course taken by their wary foes. They began to shout to their enemies in derisive terms, hoping the taunts would exasperate and draw them into an attack. Nothing, however, would tempt them to face the danger, for they withdrew to a spot about one mile from the little fort and sat down in council. The speeches appeared to be generally opposed to risking an assault; for, after the council was dissolved, the Indians divided into two nearly equal parties and immediately marched off. One band took the direction of the Crow country and the other shaped their course in the direction from whence they came.
The trappers remained at their little fort during the winter and were not again disturbed by the Indians. Early in the following spring, they set their traps on one of the tributaries of the Missouri River and finished the hunt on the head of Lewis' Fork. They then departed for the rendezvous which was held on Green River near the mouth of Horse Creek, remaining there until the month of August and until the meeting was dissolved.
[pg 132]Kit Carson, on the breaking up of the camp at the rendezvous, accompanied by five other trappers, went to Fort Hall and joined a party attached to the "Northwest Fur Company." With this band he trapped to the head of Salmon River. Thence they went to Malade River, trapping down it to where it empties into the Big Snake River. They continued on up this latter river, and then, after trapping on Goose Creek and Raft River, returned to Fort Hall. Their stock of fur was quite extensive on their arrival here and, an opportunity offering to dispose of it, they sold out at a fair valuation. After recruiting their strength at the Fort for one month, Kit Carson, accompanied by most of the trappers, set out to join Bridger, who was still in the country of the Blackfeet Indians. Upon striking the Missouri River, signs of trappers were discovered, indicating that, whoever the party, or parties might be, they were now above the place where Kit and his party then were. With fourteen companions Kit started in advance of the main party to overtake, and report who these men were. Towards evening of the same day, the advance party came up with the trappers and found that they were under the charge of Joseph Gale and in the employ of Captain Wyatt.
Gale informed Carson that his command had recently been engaged in a closely contested fight with the Blackfeet Indians; that several of his party had been wounded, and one, by the name of Richard Owens, was at first thought to be mortally so; but, eventually, he had begun to recover and now was doing well.
Kit and his men remained one night with Gale. On [pg 133] the following day his party commenced setting their traps, intending to proceed up the river at a slow pace in order to allow the main party to overtake them. The men sent out to set their traps had not gone from the camp over two miles before they were fired upon by a party of Blackfeet Indians and compelled to retreat. They did so, succeeding in joining their comrades without the loss of a single man. The pursuit had been close and well sustained by the savages; hence, it became necessary to take instant measures in order to insure the safety of the advance. Kit Carson, who was the commander of the party, after quietly surveying the scene, gave orders for the men, with their animals, to conceal themselves, as best they could in the brush. His orders had been issued but just in time, for the concealment was barely attained, when the Indians were upon them. They were received with a well-directed volley from the rifles of the little party, which brought down several of the fierce assailants. They recoiled and retreated for a moment. The moment was golden to the few white men. Like men who were fighting for their lives but who were cool in danger, they made no mistakes in reloading their rifles. They were but just ready, however, for the second charge. This time the savages came on with unearthly yells and desperate courage, seemingly well satisfied that before them stood the men whose faithful rifle-talk they had heard before. Kit warned his men to keep cool and fire as if shooting game, a warning which was entirely unnecessary, for the result was that the savages were again driven back with a brave bleeding or dying for nearly every shot fired. [pg 134] It was very fortunate that Kit had chosen this position, for the engagement lasted nearly the entire day. The loss on the part of the Indians was very severe. They did everything in their power to force Kit and his party from their cover, but without avail. Every time they attempted to charge into the thicket the same deadly volley was poured in with never-failing aim, which invariably caused the savages to beat a hasty retreat. Before the next attack the trappers were ready for them with reloaded rifles. At last, as if driven to desperation, the Indians set the thicket on fire, hoping to burn out their foes. Most providentially, in this also they were foiled. After consuming the outer shrubbery, the fire died out. This was the last act attempted by the savages. Seeing the ill-success of their effort to dislodge the trappers by fire, they departed. They may have been hurried in this leave-taking somewhat by news brought in by their spies of the near approach of the main body of the trappers, which had arrived at a point about six miles distant from the battle ground. They had been prevented from hearing the reports of fire-arms by adverse winds, and knew nothing of the fight until informed by the trappers engaged in it. When sufficient time had elapsed for the Indians to be well out of sight, Kit Carson and his companions left their cover and soon found their way into the camp of their friends.
Gale was so continually annoyed by these Indians that he joined the other trappers and together they concluded to leave their country. Their combined forces, though able to cope with them so far as defensive measures were [pg 135] necessary, was utterly powerless to overawe them. This made it next to an impossibility for them to continue in their country with a hope of success in business. For the purpose of getting rid of them, they moved off, some distance, to a small creek where beaver were plenty. Trouble followed them, however. The first day of their arrival, one of the party was killed by the Blackfeet Indians within a short distance, only, of the camp. During the remainder of the stay made by the party on this stream, the rascals hovered around and worried them to such a degree that a trapper could not leave the camp without falling into an ambuscade and being forced to fight his way back again.
It became evident to all interested that so long as such a state of affairs existed they could not employ their time with just hope of advantage. After a short council, it was decided to abandon this region of the country and go to the North Fork of the Missouri. They soon accomplished their journey and began the business of trapping. Proceeding up the river, on the fourth day, they came, suddenly, upon a large village of Flathead and Pondrai Indians who were encamped upon its banks. These Indians were friendly to the whites. A chief of the Flatheads and several of his people joined the trappers and went with them to the Big Snake River where they established their winter quarters. The winter passed away so quietly that not a single incident occurred beyond the usual routine which the imagination of the reader can easily supply. It was quite cold that season, and the snow fell to a great depth. Everything however was arranged as best conduced to comfort, and [pg 136] the trappers found a pleasant and congenial exercise in hunting to supply their daily wants.
The winter seasons in the Rocky Mountains are usually fearful and severe. There, snow storms form mountains for themselves, filling up the passes for weeks, even those which are low being impracticable either for man or beast. As a set-off to all this, the scenery is most grand provided the beholder is well housed. If the case is otherwise and he be doomed to combat these terrible storms, his situation is most critical. During the summer months the lofty peaks of this mighty chain of mountains, like those of the Alps, are covered with white caps of snow. As time, the bright sun and the south wind wear out these old-lady head-gearings, no matter what be the part of the year, whether the cold days of January, or the hot days of August, the snow storms are faithful in replenishing them. It affords a contrast of the elements of the grandest conception to stand in the shade of some wavy verdure of the valley wiping off the unbidden perspiration from the brow, and, at the same instant, look upon a darkly threatening storm-cloud powdering the heads of the hoary monster mountains from its freight of flaky snow. So far these American giant mountains are unsurpassed by their Alpine neighbors of Europe. Not so in the glaciers. Throughout the great range, there are none of those beautiful glaciers to be found that can compare with those possessed by their compeers in Europe.
To the traveler whose taste has led him to wander along the "Great back bones," or vertebræ, of the two hemispheres, preparing the mind to draw truthful contrast, [pg 137] his pleasantest reveries will find him drawing comparisons between them. He is never tired, for the subject he cannot exhaust. When, supposing that his conclusions are at last made and that the Alps have won the highest place in favor, some forgotten scene from America will assume the form and shape of a vivid recollection, rife with scenic grandeur and sublimity, restoring the Rocky chain to its counterpoise; then, an hour of peril and fearful toil will come to memory, and, until the same mental process shall bring them again to an equilibrium, the far-famed Alps will descend in the balance. Each have their attractions, each their grandeur, each their sublimity, each their wonderful, awful silence, each their long and glorious landscape views, while, to each, the general contour is the same. In the point of altitude, the Rocky chain, as is well known to science, has the advantage; but, in historical science and lore, the famous Alps stand preeminent. True, it is from ignorance that we are led to concede this, because no man can give to the world the reminiscences of the Rocky Mountains. Their history, since the first red man entered them, must forever rest in oblivion. In scenery these mountains of the Western Continent again carry off the palm; for, they strike the observer as being more bold, wild and picturesque than their formidable rivals. To the foot-worn traveler, who has journeyed thirty or forty days upon the level prairies, seeing nothing to break the monotony of a sea of earth, the dark outlines of the Rocky Mountains, gradually coming into the view, never fail to prove a refreshing sight both to the physical and mental eye. They appear as if descending from the heavens [pg 138] to the surface of the earth, perpendicularly, as though intended to present a perfect barrier over which no living thing should pass. This view never fails to engross the earnest attention of the traveler, and hours of gazing only serve to enwrap the mind in deeper and more fixed contemplation. Is there not here presented a field, such as no other part of this globe can furnish, in which the explorer, the geologist, the botanist may sow and reap a rich harvest for his enterprise? As yet scientific research, on questions concerning the Rocky Mountains, is comparatively speaking, dumb. But science will soon press forward in her heavenly ordained mission, borne upon the shoulders of some youthful hero, and once more the wise book-men of the gown and slipper, who, surrounded with their tomes on tomes of learned digests, are fast approaching the hour when they had better prepare their last wills and testaments, will again be distanced in the race and doomed to argue technicalities. To the hunter, the real lover of and dependent upon the chase, there can be no comparison between the mighty Alps and the huge Rocky Mountain Barrier of the American Prairies. The one is destitute of animal life while the other bears a teeming population of the choicest game known to the swift-leaden messenger of the white man's rifle. He who wishes to behold in the same gaze, beautiful valleys, highly cultivated by a romantic and interesting race, in rich contrast with wonderfully moulded masses of earth and stone, covered with a medley of green foliage and white snow, let him go to the Alps.
In the following spring Kit Carson, accompanied by only one trapper, started out to hunt the streams in [pg 139] the vicinity of Big Snake River. The Utah nation of Indians inhabit this country; and, with them, Kit Carson stood on a friendly footing. The business of trapping was therefore carried on without fear of molestation. The labors of the two were crowned with great success.
Loaded with a full cargo of fur they soon after set out for Robidoux's Fort, which they reached in safety, selling out their stock to good advantage.
Kit Carson made only a short stop at this Fort. As soon as his fur was disposed of, he immediately organized a small party consisting of five trappers and made a journey to Grand River. After thoroughly trapping this river, he established himself at Brown's Hole on Green River for the winter. Early in the spring he returned with the same party to the country of the Utahs and hunted there for some time. He then went to the New Park, where they finished their trapping operations and returned to Robidoux's Fort. Here Kit again found a purchaser for his furs; but, the prices at which he was obliged to sell them, did not at all please him. Within a few years, the value of beaver fur had greatly deteriorated. This was caused by the slow demand which had gradually ruled at the great emporiums of Europe and America. The skill of the manufacturer had substituted a material for the making of hats which, while it was cheaper, pleased the great race of hat-wearers. The beaver itself was becoming scarce, owing to their being so diligently hunted. It was evident to Kit Carson and many of his mountaineer companions that their occupation was gradually becoming less profitable and that it would soon drive them into [pg 140] other employments. Acting upon this impression Kit Carson, accompanied by "Old Bill Williams,"14 William New, Mitchell and Fredericks, a Frenchman, started for Bent's Fort, which was then located on the Arkansas River near a large forest of cotton wood trees, and which is, even at this day, known as the "Big Timbers." The party struck the river at a point about one hundred miles above the Fort, where, in later years, was built a settlement called St. Charles.15
[pg 141]On reaching the river, two of the party, Mitchell and New, concluded to tarry awhile in order to gratify their humor for hunting. But Kit Carson, with the remainder of the mountaineers, continued on their course, and, in three days time, were safely lodged within the walls of the Fort. One week subsequently, Mitchell and New followed their companions to the Fort, but in a sad plight. They had not suspected danger, and, consequently, had failed to guard against it. They had been surrounded by Indians and deprived of everything they possessed except their naked bodies. In this denuded state they arrived at the Fort. They were kindly received and provided for by its noble-hearted proprietors; and, for some time enjoyed a respite from all their troubles.
This mountaineer Mitchell, full of eccentricities of character, has seen the ups and downs of a frontiersman during a long and eventful life. He once joined the Camanche nation and became one of their braves.16
In this capacity he won great renown by the efficient and active part he took in several engagements between [pg 142] the tribe of his adoption and their enemies. His real object in turning Indian was to discover the locality of a gold mine which was said to have an existence in some of the mountains of northern Texas. Having convinced himself that the story of the gold mine, like many of the tales and traditions which gain currency in Indian countries, was entirely without foundation, Mitchell, with some plausible excuse, bid his red friends good bye and sought out his old comrades, the trappers, to whom he ever afterwards proved faithful. About two years since, Mitchell paid a trading visit to the States. On his route, it became necessary that he should pass over the Kansas Territory, just at a time when political difficulties there were exciting the people to the highest pitch of anxiety. The consequence was, that his views upon the all-absorbing questions at issue were frequently asked for by members of both parties. To all these queries he invariably replied, professing his ignorance of everything that appertained thereto. This caused him to be regarded as a dangerous man, and one not to be trusted. He was accordingly treated with indifference and silent reserve. This to a mountaineer, who, during a long period of years, had met every "pale face" as a brother, was insupportable usage. In all haste he finished his business, relinquished his contemplated journey through the States, and started to return to his home in New Mexico. While upon the road, he accidentally fell in with a friend; and, in reply to the question, where have you been? said:
"After a lapse of many years, I thought I should like to see the whites again; so, I was going to the [pg 143] States. But the sample I've seen in Kansas is enough to disgust a man with their character. They do nothing but get up war parties against one another; and, I would much rather be in an Indian country than in civilized Kansas." Mitchell is full of dry humor and commands the faculty of telling a good story, which makes him a pleasant traveling companion.
Since the time when Kit Carson first joined a trapping expedition, up to the time of his arrival at Bent's Fort, a period of eight long years, he had known no rest from arduous toil. Not even when, to the reader, he was apparently idle, buried in the deep snows of the Rocky Mountains and awaiting the return of Spring, has he rested from toil. Even then his daily life has been given up to bodily fatigue and danger, frequently in scenes which, although of thrilling interest, are too lengthy for this narrative. It has been our purpose thus far to present Kit Carson undergoing his novitiate. We regard, and we think a world will eventually regard, this extraordinary man as one raised up by Providence to fulfill a destiny of His all-wise decree. It is premature for us, at this stage of our work, to advance the argument upon which this conclusion, so irresistibly to our mind, is deduced. We have yet before us an array of historical fact and incident to relate, without parallel in the history of nations, and in which Kit Carson plays no insignificant part. For these eight years of stirring practical life, Kit Carson, relying upon his beloved rifle for his sustenance and protection, had penetrated every part of the interior of the North American Continent, [pg 144] setting his traps upon every river of note which rises within this interior, and tracing them from the little springs which originate them to the wide mouths from which they pour their surcharged waters into the mighty viaducts or drains of the vast prairies, and the mighty leviathan ranges of the Rocky Mountains. In this time he had wandered over a wild territory equal in its dimensions to nearly all of the empires, kingdoms and principalities of Europe combined. His journeys, as it has already appeared, were made sometimes on foot and sometimes on horseback. By themselves, his travels will be called no trivial undertakings. Each fresh adventure led him into regions where but seldom, and more frequently never, had a white man trod the soil. He was, therefore, now an explorer in every sense of that distinguishing word, with the single exception that he had not produced the results which the early culture and advantages of a scientific and classical education might have brought about. But the history of the world furnishes few examples, if indeed any, where the physical training, practical skill and knowledge of a country, as possessed by Kit Carson, have been united with scholastic lore. At all events, in the wisdom of that special Providence which was intending the gold mines of California to be consecrated to the advancement of American civilization, with its religious freedom, personal liberties and sacred literature, the novitiate of Kit Carson was decreed to be wholly of a practical nature. But while Kit Carson, with his rifle, was thus reared up in character, courage and experience, the same All-wise hand was directing the pathway of a mind, equal to [pg 145] accomplish His call, through all the labyrinths of Science, History and the Arts, endowing that mind with a keenness of intellectual grasp in strange contrast with the practical skill of its future guide. Those who see no God in nature, no God in events, may batter away at this proposition. The record of Kit Carson's future tasks will prove it to be an invincible stronghold of theory.
Kit Carson's mind had now become well stored with facts and localities which were destined to be made known to the world through his connections with others. It is not detracting from the merits of any one to assert that, without frontiers-men like Kit Carson, the numerous scientific expeditions which have been sent out by the United States Government to explore the far West would have returned but sorry and meagre records for their employers. After reading some of the many printed accounts which parties of a more recent date have gathered from their experience while making their way overland to the Pacific, and also the sad fate of some brave men with noble hearts who have fallen a sacrifice upon the altar of science under the fatal blows of hostile savages, attributable no doubt in some measure to bad advice, we can thus more easily form a correct judgment of the hardships which Kit Carson has been called upon to endure and the wisdom or skill which he has displayed in surmounting every obstacle on his wild and solitary pathway. The hardships which fell to the lot of the "trappers of olden time" also stand out in bolder relief. Out of the whole catalogue of labors, from which man, to gain an honest livelihood has selected, there is [pg 146] not one profession which presents so many formidable obstacles as that under consideration; yet, it was with difficulty that the mountaineers could wean themselves from their calling even when forced by stern necessity.
[pg 147]Kit Carson is employed as Hunter to Bent's Fort—His Career for Eight Years—Messrs. Bent and St. Vrain—The commencement of his Acquaintance with John C. Fremont on a Steamboat—Is employed as a Guide by the Great Explorer—The Journey—Arrival at Fort Laramie—Indian Difficulties—The business of the Expedition completed—Return to Fort Laramie—Kit Carson goes to Taos and is married—He is employed as Hunter to a Train of Wagons bound for the States—Meeting with Captain Cook and four companies of U.S. Dragoons on Walnut Creek—Mexicans in Trouble—Kit Carson carries a Letter for them to Santa Fé—Indians on the Route—His safe Arrival—Amijos' advance Guard massacred by the Texians—The one Survivor—The Retreat—Kit Carson returns to Bent's Fort—His Adventures with the Utahs and narrow escape from Death—The Texians disarmed—The Express Ride performed.
It has already appeared that Kit Carson was now at Bent's Fort. Also, that his occupation as a trapper of beaver had become unprofitable. His services were however immediately put into requisition by Messrs. Bent and St. Vrain, the proprietors of what was called Bent's Fort, which was a trading-post kept by those gentlemen. The position which he accepted was that of Hunter to the Fort. This office he filled from that time with the most undeviating fidelity and promptitude for eight consecutive years. During all of this long period not a single word of disagreement passed between him and his employers, which fact shows better than mere words, that his duty was faithfully and satisfactorily performed. It is but seldom that such a fact can be stated of any employee, no matter what the service. Here, however, was [pg 148] an example in which, the nature of the employment would of itself, at tunes, present cause for discord, such as scarcity of game, bad luck, and men hungry in consequence. But Kit Carson was too skillful in his profession to allow such reasons to mar his fortunes. With the effort the game always was at hand; for, it was not his custom to return from his hunts empty handed.
Of course Kit Carson's duties were to supply the traders and their men with all the animal food they wanted, an easy task when game was plenty; but, it would often happen that bands of Indians, which were always loitering about the trading post, would precede him in the chase, thereby rendering his labors oftentimes very difficult. From sunrise to sunset and not unfrequently during the night, he wandered over the prairies and mountains within his range in search of food for the maintenance, sometimes of forty men who composed the garrison of the Fort and who were dependent on the skill of their hunter; but, rarely did he fail them. He knew, for hundreds of miles about him, the most eligible places to seek for game. During the eight years referred to, thousands of buffalo, elk, antelope and deer fell at the crack of Kit Carson's rifle. Each day so added to his reputation that it is not to be wondered at, considering the practice of his previous life, that he became unrivalled as a hunter. His name spread rapidly over the Western Continent until, with the rifle, he was the acknowledged "Monarch of the Prairies." The wild Indians, accustomed to measure a man's greatness by the deeds which he is capable of performing with powder and lead, were completely carried away in their admiration of the man. Among [pg 149] the Arrapahoes, Cheyennes, Kiowas and Camanches, Kit Carson was always an honored guest whenever he chose to visit their lodges; and, many a night, while seated at their watch-fires, he has narrated to them the exciting scenes of the day's adventures, to which they have listened with eager attention and unrestrained delight. When arrayed in his rough hunting costume and mounted upon his favorite charger Apache, a splendid animal, Kit Carson was a picture to behold. The buffalo were his favorite game, and well were they worthy of such a noble adversary. In the eyes of a sportsman, the buffalo is a glorious prey. To hunt them is oftentimes attended with great danger; and, while thus engaged, many a skillful man has yielded up his life for his temerity.
The American bison or buffalo seems to demand at our hands a short episode from the narrative of Kit Carson's life. This animal has several traits of character peculiarly his own. If alarmed, he starts off almost instantly and always runs against the wind, his sense of smell appearing to be better than his eyesight. What is a most remarkable fact, a herd of buffalo, when grazing, always post and maintain a line of sentinels to warn the main body of the approach of danger. When a strange object comes within sight or smelling distance, these sentinels immediately give the alarm by tossing up their heads and tails and bellowing furiously. The whole herd instantly heed the warning and are soon in motion. Buffalo run with forelegs stiff, which fact, together with their ugly-looking humps and the lowness of their heads, gives a rocking swing to their gait. If a herd, [pg 150] when in full motion, have to cross a road on which wagons are traveling, they change their course but little; and, it sometimes happens, that large bands will pass within a stone's throw of a caravan. At night they are quite systematic in forming their camps. In the centre are placed the cows and calves; while, to guard against the wolves, large numbers of which always follow them, they station on their outposts, the old bulls. The age to which a buffalo may attain is not known; but, it is certain that they are generally long-lived when not prematurely cut off. When their powers of life begin to fade, they fall an easy prey to the small, carnivorous animals of the plains. The attempt has been made to domesticate and render them useful for agricultural purposes. Hitherto such efforts have invariably failed. When restrained of their freedom, they are reduced to mere objects of curiosity.
In hunting buffalo the most important matter for the attention of the hunter is to provide himself with a suitable horse. The best that can be selected is a trained Mexican or Indian pony. Their familiarity with the game and the prairies, over which the hunter must ride at full speed, renders these horses quite safe. On the other hand a green horse is sure to be terribly frightened when called upon to face these ugly-looking animals, and the rider will find he has his hands full to manage him without thinking of his game. One great danger to be apprehended is the being led into a prairie-dog town. Here a horse needs experience to carry his rider through with safety. Upon reaching the herd, the hunter dashes in at the cows, which, are easily recognized [pg 151] by the fineness of their robes and their smaller forms. The white man hunter, of all weapons, prefers a revolver; but, the red man uses the lance, and bow and arrows, which he handles with remarkable dexterity. The place of election to make the deadly wound is just behind the fore shoulder where the long, shaggy mane of the hump is intersected by the short hair of the body. The death-wound being given, the blood gushes out in torrents and the victim, after a few bounds, falls on her knees with her head bunting into the ground. If, by chance, a vital organ is not reached, the pain of the wound makes the stricken animal desperately courageous. She turns upon her pursuer with terrible earnestness ready to destroy him. It is now that the horse is to be depended upon. If well trained, he will instantly wheel and place himself and rider out of harm's way; but, woe to both horse and hunter if this is not done. The lives of both are in imminent danger. In case the buffalo is killed, the hunter rides up, dismounts and makes his lariet fast to the horns of his game. He next proceeds to cut up the meat and prepare it for his pack animals which he should have near by. By their aid he easily carries it into camp.
It would doubtless afford many a page of exciting interest could we carry the reader through all the varied scenes of the chase in which Kit Carson has been the principal actor. To transmit to our narrative a choice fight with the fierce old grizzly bear; or, perchance, a fine old buffalo bull turning on his destroyer with savage ferocity; or, a wounded panther, with its inevitable accompaniment in the shape of a hand-to-hand encounter [pg 152] for dear life, each of such could not fail in giving interest to the general reader. We are forced, against our own conviction of the duty we owe the public as Kit Carson's chosen Biographer, to pass by all such acts of his personal daring and triumph because of his own unwillingness to relate them for publication. Notwithstanding our urgent requests, backed up by the advice and interference of friends, Kit Carson is inflexibly opposed to relating such acts of himself. He is even more willing to speak of his failures, though such are few, rather than of his victories in the chase. While the description of these adventures could not fail to furnish useful and interesting data, most unfortunately, Kit Carson considers that they are uninteresting minutiæ which have pertained to the every-day business of his life and no persuasion can induce him to enter upon their relation. Not so when he is entertaining some of the brave chiefs of the Indian nations whose friendship he has won by his brave deeds. If they are his guests, or he himself theirs, then their delight to hear kindles a pride in his breast to relate. He knows that he will not, by them, be called a boaster.
Before quitting the mountains, Kit Carson married an Indian girl to whom he was most devotedly attached. By this wife he had one child, a daughter. Soon after the birth of this child, his wife died. His daughter, he watched over with the greatest solicitude. When she reached a suitable age, he sent her to St. Louis for the purpose of giving her the advantages of a liberal education. Indeed most of Kit Carson's hard earnings, gained while he was a hunter on the Arkansas, were devoted to [pg 153] the advancement of his child. On arriving at maturity she married and with her husband settled in California.
The libertine custom of indulging in a plurality of wives, as adopted by many of the mountaineers, never received the sanction, in thought, word or action, of Kit Carson. His moral character may well be held up as an example to men whose pretensions to virtuous life are greater. Although he was continually surrounded by licentiousness he proved true to her who had first gained his affections. For this honoring of virtue he is indebted in a measure to the present sway which he holds over the western Indian races. While their chiefs are seldom men of virtuous act or intent, they are high in their appreciation of, and just in their rewards to those whose lives are patterns of honor and chastity. The Indian woman, concerning whom no truthful tale of dereliction can be told, when she arrives at the requisite age, is invested with great power in her tribe. One of their ancient customs, well authenticated, was to honor the virtuous women of their tribe with sacred titles, investing them, in their blind belief, with power to call down the favor, in behalf of the people, of their Manitou, or Great Spirit. But every woman who aspired to this honor, was required upon a certain day in the year, to run the gauntlet of braves. This was sometimes a terrible scene. All the warriors of the tribe, arrayed in their fiercest war costume and armed at every point with lance, bow and arrow, knife, tomahawk, etc., were drawn up under command of the principal chief, in single line. At the head of this line was placed a kind of chaplet, or crown, the possession of which by any [pg 154] woman was supposed to confer the power of necromancy or magic, rendering her able to heal diseases and to foretell events. The line having been formed, all of the young maidens of the tribe were drawn up in a body at the further extremity and any of them who aspired to the possession of the chaplet was at liberty, having first uncovered her back and breast as far as her waist, to march before the line of warriors within ten paces of their front and, if she lived to reach it, take possession of the crown. On the other hand, it was the duty of any warrior, who knew aught by word or deed against the virtue of the advancing maiden, to kill her upon the spot. If one arrow was shot at her, the whole band instantly poured a flight of arrows into her bare and defenceless bosom until life was extinct. Again, it was the belief of the untutored savage that whatever warrior failed to make his knowledge apparent, if he possessed any, by sending his arrow at the aspirant, would always be an object of revenge by the Great Spirit both here and hereafter; and, that he would always live in the hereafter, in sight of the Happy Hunting Grounds, but never be allowed to enter them. This latter belief made it a rare thing for young girls to brave the attempt; but, sometimes, the candidates were numerous and the horrible butchery of the young girls which took place formed a terrible exposé of their lewdness. To kill an innocent girl was equally a matter which would be forever avenged by the Great Spirit.
The warm friendship which sprang up between Kit Carson and the proprietors of Bent's Fort, under whom he held his situation as Hunter, is a sufficient index of [pg 155] the gentlemanly conduct and amiability of heart evinced towards him on their part. The names of Bent and St. Vrain were known and respected far and near in the mountains, for, in generosity, hospitality and native worth, they were men of perfect model.
Mr. Bent was appointed, by the proper authority, the first Civil Governor of New Mexico, after that large and valuable country was ceded to and came under the jurisdiction of the United States Government. He held this distinguished position however only a short time; for, in the year 1847, he was most foully and treacherously murdered by the Pueblo Indians and Mexicans. A revolution had broken out among this turbulent people, and, in his endeavors to stem it, Governor Bent was frustrated. At last, being driven to his own house, he barricaded the doors and windows. The rascally rioters, after a severe contest, succeeded in breaking open his doors; and, having gained access to their victim, murdered him in cold blood in the midst of his family. The only crime imputed by the mob against this benevolent and just man was, that he was an American. His untimely death, which was mourned by all the Americans who knew him, cast a settled gloom over the community in which he resided. The Mexicans were afterwards very penitent for the share they took in the committal of this black crime. Although several of the guilty party are still living, they have left the country; for, the mountaineers have not forgotten the friend whom they esteemed and respected, and will avenge his death if ever the opportunity offers.
Cerin St. Vrain, the surviving partner of this celebrated trading firm was equally noted. Upon the declaration [pg 156] of war between the United States and Mexico, St. Vrain took an active part on the side of his country, and, from his extensive knowledge of the Mexican character, was enabled to render important services. At the close of the war, he became extensively engaged in mercantile pursuits within the New Territory, and, by his untiring industry amassed a large fortune. He was the first man who discovered and recognized the superior skill of Kit Carson as a hunter; and, for his subsequent success in life, Kit Carson is much indebted to him. St. Vrain is one of the oldest mountaineers now living; and, as such, he is viewed by his old and new associates in the light of a father.
As the reader can now easily compute, sixteen years had elapsed since Kit Carson commenced his exploits in the Rocky Mountains. During this long period, as frequently as once every year, he had sat down to a meal consisting of bread, vegetables, meat, coffee, tea, and sugar. When dining thus sumptuously, he considered himself as greatly favored with luxuries of the rarest grade. Few men can say, with Kit Carson, "During sixteen years, my rifle furnished nearly every particle of food upon which I lived." Fewer can say with equal truth, that "For many consecutive years, I never slept under the roof of a house, or gazed upon the face of a white woman."
It was after such an experience as we have endeavored to paint by the simple tale of his life thus far, that Kit Carson longed, once more, to look upon and mingle with civilized people. For some time before he determined to visit the United States, this desire had taken possession [pg 157] of his mind and had been growing stronger. The traders of the Fort were accustomed, yearly, to send into the States a train of wagons, for the purpose of transporting their goods. The opportunity, therefore, presented for Kit Carson to gratify his wish. In the spring of 1842, one of these caravans started with which Kit Carson traveled as a supernumerary. When it arrived within the boundary lines of the State of Missouri, he parted from his compagnons de voyage and went in quest of his relatives and friends, whom, now, he had not seen for over sixteen years. The scenes of his boyhood days, he found to be magically changed. New faces met him on all sides. The old log-cabin where his father and mother had resided was deserted and its dilapidated walls were crumbling with decay. The once happy inmates were scattered over the face of the earth while many of their voices were hushed in death. Kit Carson felt himself a stranger in a strange land—the strong man wept. His soul could not brook either the change or the ways of the people. While he failed not to receive kindness and hospitality, to which his name alone was a sufficient passport among the noble-hearted Missourians, nevertheless, he had fully allayed his curiosity, and, as soon as possible, bid adieu to these unpleasant recollections. He bent his steps towards St. Louis. In this city he remained ten days; and, as it was the first time since he had reached manhood that he had viewed a town of any magnitude, he was greatly interested. But, ten days of sight-seeing wearied him. He resolved to return to his mountain home where he could breathe the pure air of heaven and where manners and customs conformed to his wild life and were more congenial to his tastes. He engaged [pg 158] passage upon the first steamboat which was bound up the Missouri River.
We cannot resist the impulse which here struggles for utterance. Look upon that little steamboat as it ascends the mighty Missouri bearing in its bosom the man who was destined to point out the hidden paths of the mighty West; to mount and record the height of the loftiest peak of the American monster mountain chain; to unfold the riches of the interior of a great and glorious empire to its possessors, and, finally, to conquer with his good sword, preparing the way for its annexation to his country, the richest soil and fairest land on earth, thus adding one more glorious star to the original thirteen of 1776; a star, too, of the very first magnitude, whose refulgent brightness shines clear, sparkling and pure for the Truth of Sacred Writ and American Liberty. On the deck of that little steamboat, the two men, the one the master mind, the giant intellect, the man of research and scholastic strength, the scientific engineer; the other, than whom his superior as an American mountaineer was not living, stood, uninterested spectators of each other; and, each, unconscious why they had been permitted to enter the same cabin. The Christian student of American history cannot pass by this simple circumstance without seeing Heaven's wisdom in such a coincidence; namely, Kit Carson for the first time in sixteen years bending his steps to his boyhood home just as his sixteen years of mountaineer skill and experience were required by one of the master workmen of American Engineering, about to enter upon the exploration of inland North America.
Kit Carson wandered over the boat, studying its [pg 159] mechanism, admiring the machinery, which, so like a thing of life, subserved the interests of human life; watched with quiet reserve the faces and general appearance of his fellow-passengers; occasionally, modestly addressed an acquaintance, for some present were known to him; and, finally singled out from among the strangers a man on whose face he thought he discovered the marks of true courage, manhood and nobility of character. The impression which Kit Carson had thus received, was nothing fleeting. The eagle eye, the forehead, the form, the movements, the general features, the smile, the quiet dignity of the man, each and all of these attributes of his manhood had been carefully noted by the wary and hardy mountaineer, and had not failed to awaken in his breast a feeling of admiration and respect. While on this boat Kit Carson learned the fact that the man, whom he had thus studied, was Lieutenant John C. Fremont of the U.S. corps of topographical engineers; also, that Lieutenant Fremont had been earnestly seeking Captain Drips, an experienced mountaineer, but, that he had been disappointed in finding him. Upon learning this, Kit Carson fell into a deep reverie which lasted some little time, when, having brought it to a conclusion, he approached Lieutenant Fremont and modestly introducing himself, said:
"Sir! I have been some time in the mountains and think I can guide you to any point there you wish to reach."
Lieutenant Fremont's answer indicated his satisfaction in making the acquaintance which Kit Carson had offered him and that he would make inquiries concerning his [pg 160] capabilities of performing the duty for which he offered himself.
The inquiries which the then lieutenant instituted, or, at least, may be supposed to have instituted, must have been favorable; for, soon afterwards, Kit Carson was engaged by Colonel Fremont to act as guide to his first exploring expedition at a salary of one hundred dollars per month. Upon arriving in Kansas the party prepared for a long and dangerous journey which lay before them. The objects of this expedition was to survey the South Pass, and take the altitude of the highest peaks of the Rocky Mountains, besides gathering all the collateral information which they could. The party had been chiefly collected in St. Louis. It consisted of twenty-two Creole and Canadian voyageurs; Mr. Charles Preuss, a native of Germany, whose education rendered him a master in the art of topographical sketching, and, towards whom, Colonel Fremont has always extended high and just encomium; Henry Brant, a son of Colonel J.H. Brant, of St. Louis, nineteen years of age; young Randolph Benton, a son of Colonel Benton, twelve years of age; Mr. L. Maxwell, a mountaineer engaged as the hunter of the party; and finally, Kit Carson, as guide, making, including the commander of the Expedition, twenty-eight souls. On the 10th day of June, 1842, the party commenced their march. The daily routine usually observed on the march was as follows:
At daybreak the camp was aroused, the animals led out and turned loose to graze; breakfast about six o'clock, immediately after which, the line of march was resumed; [pg 161] at noon there was a halt of one or two hours; the march was then again resumed and kept up until within an hour or so of sunset, when the order was usually given to encamp; the tents were then pitched, horses hobbled and turned loose to graze and the cooks prepared supper. At night all the animals were brought in and picketed, carts set for defence and guard mounted.
Buffalo Hunt.—Page 161.The party had only accomplished a few miles of the march when they fell in with the buffalo. Before we pursue the narrative of Kit Carson's life we must redeem our promise and allow Col. Fremont to describe his own impressions in his first Buffalo Hunt, in which Kit Carson and Mr. L. Maxwell were his companions and guides. Col. Fremont says:
"A few miles brought us into the midst of the buffalo, swarming in immense numbers over the plains, where they had left scarcely a blade of grass standing. Mr. Preuss, 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 [pg 162] 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 of the night might be seen pieces of the most delicate and choicest meat, roasting en appolas, on sticks around the fire, and the guard were never without company. With pleasant weather and no enemy to fear, and 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 today. Kit Carson 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. Animals are frequently lost in this way; and it is necessary to keep close watch over them, in the vicinity of the buffalo, in the midst of which they scour off to the plains, and are rarely retaken. One of our mules took a sudden freak into his head, and joined a neighboring band to-day. As we are not in a condition to lose horses, I sent several men in pursuit, and remained in camp, in the hope of recovering him; but [pg 163] lost the afternoon to no purpose, as we did not see him again. Astronomical observations placed us in longitude 100° 05' 47", latitude 40° 49' 55".
"July 1.—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 hand 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 [pg 164] 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 battle cry) 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.
"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 [pg 165] 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."
The trail which the party left behind them now forms the emigrant road to California via Fort Laramie, Salt Lake, etc. On reaching Fort Laramie, Fremont found a fearful state of affairs existing among the Sioux Indians [pg 166] through whose country his route lay. An encounter had recently taken place between a war-party belonging to the Sioux nation and a party of trappers and Snake Indians. In the fight the Indians had been worsted and several of their braves killed. To revenge themselves the Sioux chieftains had collected their warriors; and, while the nation was encamped to the number of one thousand lodges, they had gone forth to seek and punish their enemies.
At Fort Laramie the exploring party met several trappers and friendly Indians who used their utmost endeavors to dissuade Colonel Fremont from venturing into such inevitable danger. There was but one opinion expressed, viz.: that, as sure as he entered upon the journey, the entire party would be massacred. To all these admonitions and warnings, Colonel Fremont had but one reply. His government had directed him to perform a certain duty. The obstacles which stood in his way, it was his duty to use every means at his command to surmount; therefore, in obedience to his instructions, he was determined to continue his march. Finally, he said, that he would accomplish the object or die in the attempt, being quite sure that if the expedition failed by being cut to pieces, a terrible retribution would be in store for the perpetrators of the act. Kit Carson, his guide, openly avowed that the future looked dark and gloomy; but, he was delighted to hear this expression from his commander. He now felt that he had a man after his own heart to depend on, and should danger or inevitable death be in store for them he was ready and willing to face either with him. In order to [pg 167] be prepared for the worst, Kit Carson felt it his duty, considering the dangers apprehended, to make his will, thereby showing that if he had to fight he was ready to count it his last battle. Colonel Fremont resumed his journey, and very opportunely arrived at the South Pass of the Rocky Mountains without, in any way, being annoyed with Indians, not even meeting any on the route.
He had now reached the field where his chief labors were to commence. Without loss of time he set earnestly about his work, making and recording such observations as he deemed to be essential and examining and exploring the country. Having finished this part of his labors, the ascent of the highest peak of the mountains was commenced. The length of the journey had jaded the animals. It was very difficult to procure game. The men had undergone such severe hardships that their spirits had become almost worn out. The daily fare now was dried buffalo meat. This was about the consistency of a pine stick; and, in taste, resembled a piece of dried bark. Besides these rather uncomfortable prospects, the expedition stood in constant fear of an attack by the Indians. It was now in the country of the Blackfeet; and, only a short distance from the encampment, at the foot of the mountain, there was one of their forts. In the face of all these obstacles, sufficiently formidable to have deterred most commanders, the mountain party was detailed, being fourteen in number including Fremont. A man named Bernier was left in command of the camp which had been made by felling forest trees in a space about forty feet in diameter, using the trunks to [pg 168] form a breastwork. The camp was thus concealed by the trees and their foliage. It was well calculated for defence, and a few determined men could have maintained it against almost any Indian force.
On the 12th day of August the mountain party left the camp. It was fifteen in number. On the 14th of August some of the party reached an elevation at which the barometer stood 19.401. On the 15th some of the party were sent back. Kit Carson had command of this party. The remainder consisted of Colonel Fremont, Mr. Preuss, Basil Lajeunesse, Clement Lambert, Janesse, and Descoteaux. The day previous Kit Carson had alone climbed one of the highest peaks of the main ridge from which he had a full view of the highest peak, which rose about eight or ten hundred feet above him. The arduous labors of the 14th August had determined the commander to ascend no higher. Instead of carrying out this intention, after Kit Carson with his party had set out, Fremont made one more effort to climb the highest peak and succeeded. His own words in describing this ascent are as follows:
"'At intervals, we reached places where a number of springs gushed from the rocks, and about 1,800 feet above the lakes came to the snow line. From this point our progress was uninterrupted climbing. Hitherto, I had worn a pair of thick moccasins, with soles of parflêche; but here I put on a light thin pair, which I had brought for the purpose, as now the use of our toes became necessary to a further advance. I availed myself of a sort of comb of the mountain, [pg 169] which stood against the wall like a buttress, and which the wind and the solar radiation, joined to the steepness of the smooth rock, had kept almost entirely free from snow. Up this I made my way rapidly. Our cautious method of advancing in the outset had spared my strength; and, with the exception of a slight disposition to headache, I felt no remains of yesterday's illness. In a few minutes we reached a point where the buttress was overhanging, and there was no other way of surmounting the difficulty than by passing around one side of it, which was the face of a vertical precipice of several hundred feet.'
"Parflêche is the name given to buffalo hide. The Indian women prepare it by scraping and drying. It is exceedingly tough and hard, and receives its name from the circumstance that it cannot be pierced by arrows or spears. The entire dress of Fremont and his party, on their ascent to the 'top of America,' consisted of a blue flannel shirt, free and open at the neck, the collar turning down over a black silk handkerchief tied loosely, blue cloth pantaloons, a slouched broad-brimmed hat, and moccasins as above described. It was well adapted to climbing—quite light, and at the same time warm, and every way comfortable.
"'Putting hands and feet in the crevices between the blocks, I succeeded in getting over it, and, when I reached the top, found my companions in a small valley below. Descending to them, we continued climbing, and in a short time reached the crest. I sprang upon the summit, and another step would have precipitated me into an immense snow-field five hundred feet [pg 170] below. To the edge of this field was a sheer icy precipice; and then, with a gradual fall, the field sloped off for about a mile, until it struck the foot of another lower ridge. I stood on a narrow crest, about three feet in width, with an inclination of about 20° N. 51° E. As soon as I had gratified the first feelings of curiosity, I descended, and each man ascended in his turn, for I would only allow one at a time to mount the unstable and precarious slab, which it seemed a breath would hurl into the abyss below. We mounted the barometer in the snow of the summit, and, fixing a ramrod in a crevice, unfurled the national flag, to wave in the breeze where never flag waved before. During our morning's ascent, we met no sign of animal life, except a small bird having the appearance of a sparrow. A stillness the most profound and a terrible solitude forced themselves constantly on the mind as the great features of the place. Here, on the summit, where the stillness was absolute, unbroken by any sound, and the solitude complete, we thought ourselves beyond the region of animated life; but while we were sitting on the rock, a solitary bee (bombus terrestris, the humble bee) came winging his flight from the eastern valley, and lit on the knee of one of the men.
"'Around us, the whole scene had one main striking feature, which was that of terrible convulsion. Parallel to its length, the ridge was split into chasms and fissures, between which rose the thin, lofty walls, terminated with slender minarets and columns, which are correctly represented in the view from the camp on Island Lake. According to the barometer, the little [pg 171] crest of the wall on which we stood was three thousand five hundred and seventy feet above that place, and two thousand seven hundred and eighty above the little lakes at the bottom, immediately at our feet. Our camp at the Two Hills (an astronomical station) bore south 3° east, which, with a bearing afterward obtained from a fixed position, enabled us to locate the peak. The bearing of the Trois Tetons was north 50° west, and the direction of the central ridge of the Wind River Mountains south 39° east. The summit rock was gneiss, succeeded by sienitic gneiss. Sienite and feldspar succeeded in our descent to the snow line, where we found a feldspathic granite. I had remarked that the noise produced by the explosion of our pistols had the usual degree of loudness, but was not in the least prolonged, expiring almost instantaneously. Having now made what observations our means afforded, we proceeded to descend. We had accomplished an object of laudable ambition, and beyond the strict order of our instructions. We had climbed the loftiest peak of the Rocky Mountains, and looked down upon the snow a thousand feet below, and, standing where never human foot had stood before, felt the exultation of first explorers. It was about two o'clock when we left the summit; and when we reached the bottom, the sun had already sunk behind the wall, and the day was drawing to a close. It would have been pleasant to have lingered here and on the summit longer; but we hurried away as rapidly as the ground would permit, for it was an object to regain our party as soon as possible, not knowing what accident the next hour might bring forth.'"
[pg 172]This peak was found, by barometrical observation, to be thirteen thousand five hundred and seventy feet above the waters of the Gulf of Mexico. It bears the name of the Great Explorer, being called Fremont's Peak.
The return trip was now commenced, all of the objects of the expedition having been successfully accomplished. The party again reached Fort Laramie in the month of September, 1842. Kit Carson had served in the double capacity as a hunter and guide. It is sufficient to say of the manner in which he performed his duties that he won the friendship of John C. Fremont, and has ever occupied since then a prominent and permanent place in his esteem. At Laramie, Kit Carson's labors were done. There he bid his commander good bye and set out for New Mexico. Fremont returned to the United States in safety. Thus terminated the first of his great explorations.
Kit Carson's Indian wife had long since been dead. In the month of February, 1843, he married a Mexican lady by the name of Señora Josepha Jarimilla. Of this lady it is sufficient to say that for her many virtues and personal beauty she is justly esteemed by a large circle of acquaintance. By this wife Kit Carson has three children, to whom he is devotedly attached.
In the following April Kit Carson was employed as hunter to accompany Bent and St. Vrain's train of wagons, while on their journey to the United States. On arriving at Walnut Creek, which is about two-thirds of the distance across the Plains from Santa Fé, Kit and his companions came upon the encampment of Captain Cook, belonging to the United States Army—who was in command of four companies [pg 173] of United States Dragoons. Captain Cook informed Carson's party that in his rear was traveling a train of wagons belonging to General Armijo, a wealthy Mexican.
For the purpose of insuring protection to this richly-freighted caravan while passing through an Indian country, the Mexican wagon-master in charge, had hired one hundred men. There were rumors, currently reported at that time and believed, that a large body of Texians were waiting on the road to plunder and murder this wagon party, and thus retaliate the treatment Armijo had been guilty of in the case of the "famous Muir Prisoners;" but, in order that this should not happen in Territory belonging to the United States, the War Department had ordered Captain Cook and the dragoons to guard the property as far as the fording of the Arkansas River, which was then the boundary line between the two countries. The Mexicans had become alarmed for fear they might be attacked on parting with the United States soldiers; so, on meeting with Kit Carson, who was well known to them, they offered three hundred dollars if he would carry a letter to Armijo who was then Governor of New Mexico, and lived at Santa Fé. This letter apprised the General of the danger to which his men and property were exposed and asked for assistance to be immediately sent to them. Carson accepted the offer, and in company with Owens, another mountaineer, he set out on his express ride. In the course of a few days he reached Bent's Fort, where his companion concluded not to go on with him. At the Fort, Kit Carson was informed that the Utah Indians, [pg 174] then hostile, were scattered along his intended route. He was not, however, turned from his duty by this danger, but he resumed his journey immediately. At this last-named place his friend, Mr. Bent, kindly furnished him with a fleet and magnificent horse, which he led, so that, should he find himself in peril, he might mount this fresh animal and make his escape.
By watching for signs and being continually on the alert, Kit Carson discovered the Indians and their village without exposing his own person to view. He immediately secreted himself in an out-of-the-way place and remained until the coming on of darkness; when, he passed safely by the camp of the savages. In the course of a few days he reached Taos and handed his dispatch to the Alcalde of the town to be forwarded to Santa Fé. As had been previously agreed upon, he waited here for an answer with which he was to return. At Taos Carson was informed that Armijo had already sent out one hundred Mexican soldiers to seek his caravan and that the General himself, in command of six hundred more, was soon to follow after. It was afterwards learned that this unfortunate band of one hundred men went as far as the Arkansas River, but could not find any traces of the train of wagons, it not having completed that much of its journey; therefore, they commenced to retrace their steps, but had proceeded only a few miles, when they were suddenly attacked by the Texians, who succeeded in massacring all but one man. This survivor had succeeded in catching, in the heat of the battle, a fully equipped Texan horse which was loose. Mounting him, he made off in the direction of Santa Fé; and, at Cold Springs [pg 175] came upon the camp of Armijo, to whom he reported proceedings. The narration of this sad story so dampened the courage of the General and his men as to cause them to make a precipitous retreat. The spot where this slaughter took place has since gone by the name of the "battle ground" and many are the bleached human bones that are still to be found there.
It was during Carson's stay of four days in Taos, that Armijo and his small army had started out in quest of the enemy; but, before his departure, he had received the letter and directed an answer to be sent, thinking perhaps, that Kit Carson might reach the train even if he himself did not. On the answer coming into Carson's hands, he selected a Mexican boy to accompany him and was quickly on the road again. They had left Taos two days' journey behind them and had reached the River Trinchera (for they were traveling via the Sangero de Christo Pass and Bent's Fort) when they unexpectedly met four Indian warriors. Eat Carson immediately recognized them as hostile Utahs. As yet the red men were some distance off; and, while Kit and his companion stood meditating what was best to be done, the latter spoke and said to the former: "I am a boy and perhaps the Indians will spare my life. At any rate yours is much more valuable than mine, therefore mount the horse you are leading, without delay, and make your escape." Carson at first thought this advice to be good, and was about acting on it, when it struck his equally generous heart, how cowardly such a course would be—to desert a youth who had in the hour of peril so manfully borne himself. Turning to the boy he [pg 176] thanked him and added that "he could not and would not desert him." He said "we must stand our ground together and if we have to die let us take with us each his warrior." While this colloquy was going on, the foremost of the Indians came up. He approached Carson with the air of a man sure of an easy victory, and, with a bland smile, proffered one hand in friendship, while, with the other, he grasped Kit's rifle. A powerful blow from the fist of the latter released his hold and instantly laid him sprawling upon the ground. The other Indians, seeing the fate of their companion, hastened to his rescue. When they reached talking distance, Kit, standing with his rifle brought to his shoulder, informed them that, upon the first hostile demonstration they made, he and his companion would fire. The Indians commenced shaking their priming into the pans of their flint lock guns, and, while doing so, talked loud and threatened to perform a great many things. This was a mere ruse to intimidate Kit and his companion and throw them off their guard. It was, however, well understood and operated to make them only the more vigilant. This endeavor to draw off Kit's attention was continued in various ways, but, finally seeing the determined posture of their opponent, they grew weary of the game, and, at last, departed.
The journey was now resumed. After five days of hard traveling, Kit and his companion entered Bent's Fort, without further molestation. Here Kit Carson learned that the Texians had been caught by Captain Cook and his dragoons in United States Territory, and had been disarmed. This had immediately relieved the conductors [pg 177] of the train from all anxiety. They had, consequently, continued their route, not thinking a stop at Bent's Fort necessary as had been anticipated. Gen. Armijo's letter of instruction was, accordingly, left by Carson with Mr. Bent who promised to forward it to Santa Fé by the first favorable opportunity. To pursue and overtake the wagons would be nothing but labor thrown away. All danger had disappeared.
[pg 178]Kit Carson visits Fremont's Camp—Goes on the Second Exploring Expedition—The Necessary Arrangements—Trip to Salt Lake—Explorations there—Carson is dispatched to Fort Hall for Supplies—Their Operations at Salt Lake—The Great Island—The Journey to the Columbia River in Oregon—Incidents on the Route—Tlamath Lake—The Journey to California—The Trials and Privations met with while crossing the Sierra Nevada Mountains—Mr. Preuss is lost but finds the Party again—Arrival at Sutter's Fort in a Destitute Condition—Two of the Party become deranged—The Route on the Return Trip—Mexicans come into their Camp asking Aid and Protection—Indian Depredations—Carson and Godey start on a Daring Adventure—The Pursuit—The Thieves overtaken—These Two White Men attack Thirty Indians—The Victory—Horses retaken—The Return to Camp—One of their Companions killed—The Journey continued—Arrival at Bent's Fort—The "Fourth of July" Dinner.
A few days before Kit Carson's arrival at Bent's Fort, Col. Fremont had passed by and had informed the Traders there that he was bound on another Exploring Expedition. Having finished up his business with the Mexicans, Kit thought he would like to see his old commander once again. Accordingly, he started on his trail: and, after seventy miles of travel, came up with him. The meeting proved to be mutually agreeable. Although Kit Carson had made this visit solely from his desire to see again his old commander and not with a view of joining his second expedition, Col. Fremont insisted so strongly upon having Kit accompany him that he acquiesced in doing so.
For Col. Fremont, Kit Carson has the greatest admiration. He knows, as well as any man living, his bravery, [pg 179] his talents and the many splendid qualities of his mind and heart. The question will naturally arise, does Kit Carson indorse the political creed upon which Col. Fremont accepted the nomination for the Presidency of the United States? The best answer and the one which is true, will be: Kit Carson considers it one of the highest honors and greatest blessings to be a citizen of the United States. He is willing to incur any danger for his country's good, even if the sacrifice of his life is the alternative. He has spent all his life in the wilds of America where news is always as scarce an article as luxuries of the table and fire-side, and, where the political strifes of factions and parties are not known. The inference will therefore be plainly apparent, that his curiosity does not lead him to examine very attentively the minute workings of political machinery. He is not a man to be swayed by friendship from performing any act which the interests of his country seem to require at his hands. His political bias will, therefore, remain a matter of conjecture until such time, if his life is spared to see it, when New Mexico shall be admitted into the Union as a State. So far, he has never lived where he could exercise the right of franchise. The time must come which shall entitle him to a Presidential vote before he decides what political party shall count him as its supporter.
Soon after Kit Carson was again enrolled under the command of Col. Fremont, he received orders to return to Bent's Fort and purchase some mules of which the party stood in need. Mules are valuable animals in new and mountainous countries. They are often the only beasts of burden which can be successfully used in [pg 180] crossing the wild mountains. Being more sure footed and more able to endure great fatigue than the horse, in such expeditions, they become absolutely necessary. While he was absent on this duty, the expedition journeyed first to Soda Springs and thence on to St. Vrain's Fort, which was located on the South Fork of the Platte. At this point, the expedition was joined by Major Fitzpatrick with a command of forty men which he had enrolled, under orders, to assist in the exploration. When Kit Carson had rejoined the party, the arrangements for the arduous task in view were nearly complete.
Colonel Fremont divided his forces, sending one division, with most of the camp equipage, on the more direct route. This division was placed under the command of Major Fitzpatrick. The other division under the command of Colonel Fremont, consisting of a squad of fifteen men and his guide Kit Carson, struck out up Thompson's Fork. The object of this expedition had in view by the government was, to have Colonel Fremont connect his explorations of the preceding year with the coast surveys of Commander Wilkes on the Pacific. This would give the data for making a correct map of the interior of the wild lands of the continent. From Thompson's Fork Colonel Fremont's division marched to the Cache la Poudre River, and thence to the plains of Laramie until they came to the North Fork of the Platte. This river they crossed below the New Park and bent their way to the sweet water, reaching it at a point about fifteen miles below the Devil's Gate. From this point they traveled almost the same road which is now used by emigrants and which leads to Soda Springs [pg 181] on Beaver River. It had been decided by Fremont to go to the Great Salt Lake and accomplish its exploration. He therefore started for that direction; but, before doing so, ordered Kit Carson to proceed to Fort Hall and obtain such supplies as were required. After procuring these necessities, Kit Carson, with one companion and his pack animals, set out on the return from Fort Hall and eventually found Fremont on the upper end of Salt Lake. From here the party journeyed around to the east side of the lake, a distance of about twenty miles. At this spot they obtained a good view of the lake and its adjacent scenery. Before him, and in bold relief, stood out everything which the explorer desired to examine, even to one of the several islands which are located in the midst of this wonderful collection of saline waters. To this isolated land Fremont was resolved to go. Among the rest of the forethought, supplies, there was an India-rubber boat. This was ordered to be made ready for a trip to the island early the following day. No doubt our readers will be pleased to enjoy Colonel Fremont's account of this lake, its scenery and characteristics. We insert therefore as much thereof as our space will admit. It was the twenty-first day of August 1843 that the little party reached Bear River, which, as has already appeared in another, part of this work, was the principal tributary of the Great Salt Lake. At this point of Colonel Fremont's narrative, he says: "We were now entering a region which, for us, possessed a strange and extraordinary interest. We were upon the waters of the famous lake which forms a salient point among the [pg 182] remarkable geographical features of the country, and around which the vague and superstitious accounts of the trappers had thrown a delightful obscurity, which we anticipated pleasure in dispelling, but which, in the meantime, left a crowded field for the exercise of our imagination.
"In our occasional conversations with the few old hunters who had visited the region, it had been a subject of frequent speculation; and the wonders which they related were not the less agreeable because they were highly exaggerated and impossible.
"Hitherto this lake had been seen only by trappers, who were wandering through the country in search of new beaver streams, caring very little for geography; its islands had never been visited; and none were to be found who had entirely made the circuit of its shores; and no instrumental observations, or geographical survey of any description, had ever been made anywhere in the neighboring region. It was generally supposed that it had no visible outlet; but, among the trappers, including those in my own camp, were many who believed that somewhere on its surface was a terrible whirlpool, through which its waters found their way to the ocean by some subterranean communication. All these things had made a frequent subject of discussion in our desultory conversations around the fires at night; and my own mind had become tolerably well filled with their indefinite pictures, and insensibly colored with their romantic descriptions, which, in the pleasure of excitement, I was well disposed to believe, and half expected to realize.
[pg 183]"'In about six miles' travel from our encampment, we reached one of the points in our journey to which we had always looked forward with great interest—the famous Beer Springs, which, on account of the effervescing gas and acid taste, had received their name from the voyageurs and trappers of the country, who, in the midst of their rude and hard lives, are fond of finding some fancied resemblance to the luxuries they rarely have the good fortune to enjoy.
"'Although somewhat disappointed in the expectations which various descriptions had led me to form of unusual beauty of situation and scenery, I found it altogether a place of very great interest; and a traveler for the first time in a volcanic region remains in a constant excitement, and at every step is arrested by something remarkable and new. There is a confusion of interesting objects gathered together in a small space. Around the place of encampment the Beer Springs were numerous; but, as far as we could ascertain, were entirely confined to that locality in the bottom. In the bed of the river, in front, for a space of several hundred yards, they were very abundant; the effervescing gas rising up and agitating the water in countless bubbling columns. In the vicinity round about were numerous springs of an entirely different and equally marked mineral character. In a rather picturesque spot, about 1,300 yards below our encampment, and immediately on the river bank, is the most remarkable spring of the place. In an opening on the rock, a white column of scattered water is thrown up, in form like a jet-d'eau, to a variable height of about [pg 184] three feet, and, though it is maintained in a constant supply, its greatest height is attained only at regular intervals, according to the action of the force below. It is accompanied by a subterranean noise, which, together with the motion of the water, makes very much the impression of a steamboat in motion; and, without knowing that it had been already previously so called, we gave to it the name of the Steamboat Spring. The rock through which it is forced is slightly raised in a convex manner, and gathered at the opening into an urn-mouthed form, and is evidently formed by continued deposition from the water, and colored bright red by oxide of iron.
"'It is a hot spring, and the water has a pungent and disagreeable metallic taste, leaving a burning effect on the tongue. Within perhaps two yards of the jet d'eau, is a small hole of about an inch in diameter, through which, at regular intervals, escapes a blast of hot air with a light wreath of smoke, accompanied by a regular noise.'
"As they approached the lake, they passed over a country of bold and striking scenery, and through several 'gates,' as they called certain narrow valleys. The 'standing rock' is a huge column, occupying the centre of one of these passes. It fell from a height of perhaps 3,000 feet, and happened to remain in its present upright position.
"At last, on the 6th of September, the object for which their eyes had long been straining was brought to view.
"'Sept. 6.—This time we reached the butte without [pg 185] any difficulty; and, ascending to the summit, immediately at our feet beheld the object of our anxious search, the waters of the Inland Sea, stretching in still and solitary grandeur far beyond the limit of our vision. It was one of the great points of the exploration; and as we looked eagerly over the lake in the first emotions of excited pleasure, I am doubtful if the followers of Balboa felt more enthusiasms, when, from the heights of the Andes, they saw for the first time the great Western Ocean. It was certainly a magnificent object, and a noble terminus to this part of our expedition; and to travelers so long shut up among mountain ranges, a sudden view over the expanse of silent waters had in it something sublime. Several large islands raised their high rocky heads out of the waves; but whether or not they were timbered was still left to our imagination, as the distance was too great to determine if the dark hues upon them were woodland or naked rock. During the day the clouds had been gathering black over the mountains to the westward, and while we were looking a storm burst down with sudden fury upon the lake, and entirely hid the islands from our view.
"'On the edge of the stream a favorable spot was selected in a grove; and felling the timber, we made a strong corral, or horse-pen, for the animals, and a little fort for the people who were to remain. We were now probably in the country of the Utah Indians, though none reside upon the lake. The India-rubber boat was repaired with prepared cloth and gum, and filled with air, in readiness for the next day.
[pg 186]"'The provisions which Carson had brought with him being now exhausted, and our stock reduced to a small quantity of roots, I determined to retain with me only a sufficient number of men for the execution of our design; and accordingly seven were sent back to Fort Hall, under the guidance of François Lajeunesse, who, having been for many years a trapper in the country, was an experienced mountaineer.
"'We formed now but a small family. With Mr. Preuss and myself, Carson, Bernier, and Basil Lajeunesse had been selected for the boat expedition—the first ever attempted on this interior sea; and Badeau, with Derosier, and Jacob (the colored man), were to be left in charge of the camp. We were favored with most delightful weather. To-night there was a brilliant sunset of golden orange and green, which left the western sky clear and beautifully pure; but clouds in the east made me lose an occultation. The summer frogs were singing around us, and the evening was very pleasant, with a temperature of 60°—a night of a more southern autumn. For our supper we had yampah, the most agreeably flavored of the roots, seasoned by a small fat duck, which had come in the way of Jacob's rifle. Around our fire to-night were many speculations on what to-morrow would bring forth; and in our busy conjectures we fancied that we should find every one of the large islands a tangled wilderness of trees and shrubbery, teeming with game of every description that the neighboring region afforded, and which the foot of a white man or Indian had never violated. Frequently, during the day, clouds had [pg 187] rested on the summits of their lofty mountains, and we believed that we should find clear streams and springs of fresh water; and we indulged in anticipations of the luxurious repasts with which we were to indemnify ourselves for past privations. Neither, in our discussions were the whirlpool and other mysterious dangers forgotten, which Indian and hunters' stories attributed to this unexplored lake. The men had discovered that, instead of being strongly sewed (like that of the preceding year, which had so triumphantly rode the cañons of the Upper Great Platte), our present boat was only pasted together in a very insecure manner, the maker having been allowed so little time in the construction that he was obliged to crowd the labor of two months into several days. The insecurity of the boat was sensibly felt by us; and, mingled with the enthusiasm and excitement that we all felt at the prospect of an undertaking which had never before been accomplished, was a certain impression of danger, sufficient to give a serious character to our conversation. The momentary view which had been had of the lake the day before, its great extent and rugged islands, dimly seen amidst the dark waters in the obscurity of the sudden storm, were well calculated to heighten the idea of undefined danger with which the lake was generally associated.
"'Sept. 8.—A calm, clear day, with a sunrise temperature of 41°. In view of our present enterprise, a part of the equipment of the boat had been made to consist of three air-tight bags, about three feet long, and capable each of containing five gallons. These had been [pg 188] filled with water the night before, and were now placed in the boat, with our blankets and instruments, consisting of a sextant, telescope, spy-glass, thermometer, and barometer.
"'In the course of the morning we discovered that two of the cylinders leaked so much as to require one man constantly at the bellows, to keep them sufficiently full of air to support the boat. Although we had made a very early start, we loitered so much on the way—stopping every now and then, and floating silently along, to get a shot at a goose or a duck—that it was late in the day when we reached the outlet. The river here divided into several branches, filled with fluvials, and so very shallow that it was with difficulty we could get the boat along, being obliged to get out and wade. We encamped on a low point among rushes and young willows, where there was a quantity of driftwood, which served for our fires. The evening was mild and clear; we made a pleasant bed of the young willows; and geese and ducks enough had been killed for an abundant supper at night, and for breakfast next morning. The stillness of the night was enlivened by millions of water-fowl.
"'Sept. 9.—The day was clear and calm; the thermometer at sunrise at 49°. As is usual with the trappers on the eve of any enterprise, our people had made dreams, and theirs happened to be a bad one—one which always preceded evil—and consequently they looked very gloomy this morning; but we hurried through our breakfast, in order to make an early start, and have all the day before us for our adventure. The [pg 189] channel in a short distance became so shallow that our navigation was at an end, being merely a sheet of soft mud, with a few inches of water, and sometimes none at all, forming the low-water shore of the lake. All this place was absolutely covered with flocks of screaming plover. We took off our clothes, and, getting over-board, commenced dragging the boat—making, by this operation, a very curious trail, and a very disagreeable smell in stirring up the mud, as we sank above the knee at every step. The water here was still fresh, with only an insipid and disagreeable taste, probably derived from the bed of fetid mud. After proceeding in this way about a mile, we came to a small black ridge on the bottom, beyond which the water became suddenly salt, beginning gradually to deepen, and the bottom was sandy and firm. It was a remarkable division, separating the fresh water of the rivers from the briny water of the lake, which was entirely saturated with common salt. Pushing our little vessel across the narrow boundary, we sprang on board, and at length were afloat on the waters of the unknown sea.
"We did not steer for the mountainous islands, but directed our course towards a lower one, which it had been decided we should first visit, the summit of which was formed like the crater at the upper end of Bear River valley. So long as we could touch the bottom with our paddles, we were very gay; but gradually, as the water deepened, we became more still in our frail batteau of gum cloth distended with air, and with pasted seams. Although the day was very calm, there [pg 190] was a considerable swell on the lake; and there were white patches of foam on the surface, which were slowly moving to the southward, indicating the set of a current in that direction, and recalling the recollection of the whirlpool stories. The water continued to deepen as we advanced; the lake becoming almost transparently clear, of an extremely beautiful bright-green color; and the spray, which was thrown into the boat and over our clothes, was directly converted into a crust of common salt, which covered also our hands and arms. 'Captain,' said Carson, who for some time had been looking suspiciously at some whitening appearances outside the nearest islands 'what are those yonder?—won't you just take a look with the glass?' We ceased paddling for a moment, and found them to be the caps of the waves that were beginning to break under the force of a strong breeze that was coming up the lake. The form of the boat seemed to be an admirable one, and it rode on the waves like a water bird; but, at the same time, it was extremely slow in its progress. When we were a little more than half way across the reach, two of the divisions between the cylinders gave way, and it required the constant use of the bellows to keep in a sufficient quantity of air. For a long time we scarcely seemed to approach our island, but gradually we worked across the rougher sea of the open channel, into the smoother water under the lee of the island, and began to discover that what we took for a long row of pelicans, ranged on the beach, were only low cliffs whitened with salt by the spray of the waves; and about noon we reached the shore, the transparency [pg 191] of the water enabling us to see the bottom at a considerable depth.
"'The cliffs and masses of rock along the shore were whitened by an incrustation of salt where the waves dashed up against them; and the evaporating water, which had been left in holes and hollows on the surface of the rocks, was covered with a crust of salt about one-eighth of an inch in thickness.
"'Carrying with us the barometer and other instruments, in the afternoon we ascended to the highest point of the island—a bare rocky peak, 800 feet above the lake. Standing on the summit, we enjoyed an extended view of the lake, inclosed in a basin of rugged mountains, which sometimes left marshy flats and extensive bottoms between them and the shore, and in other places came directly down into the water with bold and precipitous bluffs.
"'As we looked over the vast expanse of water spread out beneath us, and strained our eyes along the silent shores over which hung so much doubt and uncertainty, and which were so full of interest to us, I could hardly repress the almost irresistible desire to continue our exploration; but the lengthening snow on the mountains was a plain indication of the advancing season, and our frail linen boat appeared so insecure that I was unwilling to trust our lives to the uncertainties of the lake. I therefore unwillingly resolved to terminate our survey here, and remain satisfied for the present with what we had been able to add to the unknown geography of the region. We felt pleasure also in remembering that we were the first who, in the traditionary [pg 192] annals of the country, had visited the islands, and broken, with the cheerful sound of human voices, the long solitude of the place.
"'I accidentally left on the summit the brass cover to the object end of my spy-glass; and as it will probably remain there undisturbed by Indians, it will furnish matter of speculation to some future traveler. In our excursions about the island, we did not meet with any kind of animal; a magpie, and another larger bird, probably attracted by the smoke of our fire, paid us a visit from the shore, and were the only living things seen during our stay. The rock constituting the cliffs along the shore where we were encamped, is a talcous rock, or steatite, with brown spar.
"'At sunset, the temperature was 70°. We had arrived just in time to obtain a meridian altitude of the sun, and other observations were obtained this evening, which place our camp in latitude 41° 10' 42", and longitude 112° 21' 05" from Greenwich. From a discussion of the barometrical observations made during our stay on the shores of the lake, we have adopted 4,200 feet for its elevation above the Gulf of Mexico. In the first disappointment we felt from the dissipation of our dream of the fertile islands, I called this Disappointment Island.
"'Out of the driftwood, we made ourselves pleasant little lodges, open to the water, and, after having kindled large fires to excite the wonder of any straggling savage on the lake shores, lay down, for the first time in a long journey, in perfect security; no one thinking about his arms. The evening was extremely [pg 193] bright and pleasant; but the wind rose during the night, and the waves began to break heavily on the shore, making our island tremble. I had not expected in our inland journey to hear the roar of an ocean surf; and the strangeness of our situation, and the excitement we felt in the associated interests of the place, made this one of the most interesting nights I remember during our long expedition.
"'In the morning, the surf was breaking heavily on the shore, and we were up early. The lake was dark and agitated, and we hurried through our scanty breakfast, and embarked—having first filled one of the buckets with water from the lake, of which it was intended to make salt. The sun had risen by the time we were ready to start; and it was blowing a strong gale of wind, almost directly off the shore, and raising a considerable sea, in which our boat strained very much. It roughened as we got away from the island, and it required all the efforts of the men to make any head against the wind and sea; the gale rising with the sun; and there was danger of being blown into one of the open reaches beyond the island. At the distance of half a mile from the beach, the depth of water was sixteen feet, with a clay bottom; but, as the working of the boat was very severe labor, and during the operation of sounding it was necessary to cease paddling, during which the boat lost considerable way, I was unwilling to discourage the men, and reluctantly gave up my intention of ascertaining the depth, and the character of the bed. There was a general shout in the boat when [pg 194] we found ourselves in one fathom, and we soon after landed.'"
We now resume Kit Carson's narrative. When the Indian-rubber boat was put in order, Colonel Fremont started, taking Carson and three others as companions. (Their names have already appeared.) The distance from the main land to the island is computed to be about three leagues, hence the pull at the oars, for landsmen unaccustomed to such kind of work, was no small task. However a landing upon the island was safely accomplished, the boat made fast and the investigations commenced. After examining most of the island without finding even a spring of water on it, it was determined to ascend the great hill which was the highest elevation on it. The party was not long in reaching the summit, where they found a shelving rock, on which they cut a cross, their names and the date as signs to after visitors, should any such follow in their footsteps, that they had been the first persons who had ever, within the knowledge of man, been on that island.
The day having been far spent in their labors, orders were given to camp on the island for the night. On the morrow they departed for the main land. When they had accomplished about one league, being one-third of the distance, the clouds suddenly gathered and threatened a storm. Just as this danger impended, the air which acted in giving buoyancy to the boat, by some accident, began to escape. A man was immediately stationed at the bellows and it required his constant aid to supply the portion which steadily escaped. Colonel [pg 195] Fremont then ordered the men to pull for their lives and try thus to escape the danger of the impending storm. In this instance, as indeed in every hour of peril, an all-seeing Providence guided them in safety to the shore. Soon after they arrived, the storm came on with such fury that it caused the water of the lake, according to the natural water mark, to rise ten feet in one hour.
The party soon after recommenced their march and proceeded some distance up the Bear River. Crossing it they went to the Malade and thence on until they reached Fort Hall. Here they met with the division under Fitzpatrick and made a short stay.
Once more Colonel Fremont started with his small party in advance of his main body. He marched about eight days' journey ahead, Fitzpatrick following up his trail with the larger division. At this time the expedition was journeying in the direction of the mouth of the Columbia River. In due time they arrived safely at the river Dalles. Here they made another brief halt. Colonel Fremont left Kit Carson in command of this camp, while he, with a small party, proceeded to Vancouver's Island and purchased some provisions. On his return he found that the whole party had become consolidated. The command now journeyed to Tlamath Lake in Oregon Territory. The descriptions of all these journeys have already been given to the public in several forms, all however based upon Colonel Fremont's reports made to the U.S. Government. It would be superfluous, therefore, for us to fill up the pages of the life of Kit Carson with matter already published beyond the occurrences appertaining to him. Having finished the observations upon [pg 196] Tlamath Lake, the expedition started for California. The route led through a barren and desolate country, rendering game scarce. As the command drew near to the Sierra Nevada Mountains, they were found to be entirely covered with deep snow throughout the entire range of vision. At this time the provisions had commenced giving out. Game was so scarce that it could not be depended on. The propositions which presented themselves at this crisis were to cross the mountains or take the fearful chance of starving to death. Crossing the mountains, terrible though the alternative, was the choice of all. It was better than inactivity and certain death. On arriving at the mountains the snow was found to be about six feet deep on a level. The first task was to manufacture snow-shoes for the entire party. By the aid of these foot appendages, an advance party was sent on to explore the route and to determine how far a path would have to be broken for the animals. This party reached a spot from whence they could see their way clear and found that the path for the animals would be three leagues in length. The advance party also saw, in the distance, the green valley of the Sacramento and the coast range of mountains. Kit Carson was the first man to recognize these, to the snow-bound travelers, desirable localities, although it was now seventeen years since he had last gazed upon them. The advance party then returned to their friends in the rear and reported their proceedings. All were delighted on learning that they had one man among them who knew where they were. The business of making the road was very laborious. The snow had to be beaten compact [pg 197] with mallets. It was fifteen days before the party succeeded in reaching, with a few of their animals, a place where the heavy work of the route was ended. During this time, many of their mules had starved to death, and the few remaining were driven to such an extreme by want of food, that they devoured one another's tails, the leather on the pack saddles; and, in fact, they would try to eat everything they could get into their mouths. The sufferings of the men had been as severe as had ever fallen to the lot of any mountaineer present. Their provisions were all used and they were driven to subsist upon the mules as they died from hunger. But, commander and all bore these terrible trials in an exemplary manner.
An incident is related by Colonel Fremont, in which Kit Carson enjoyed a cold-bath, which occurred during this terrible march. "February Twenty-third.—This was our most difficult day; we were forced off the ridges by the quantity of snow among the timber, and obliged to take to the mountain-sides, where, occasionally, rocks and a southern exposure afforded us a chance to scramble along. But these were steep and slippery with snow and ice; and the tough evergreens of the mountain impeded our way, tore our skins, and exhausted our patience. Some of us had the misfortune to wear moccasins with parflêche soles, so slippery that we could not keep our feet, and generally crawled across the snow beds. Axes and mauls were necessary to-day, to make a road through the snow. Going ahead with Carson to reconnoitre the road, we reached in the afternoon the river which made the [pg 198] outlet of the lake. Carson sprang over, clear across a place where the stream was compressed among the rocks, but the parflêche sole of my moccasin glanced from the icy rock, and precipitated me into the river. It was some few seconds before I could recover myself in the current, and Carson thinking me hurt jumped in after me, and we both had an icy bath. We tried to search awhile for my gun, which had been lost in the fall, but the cold drove us out; and, making a large fire on the bank, after we had partially dried ourselves, we went back to meet the camp. We afterwards found that the gun had been slung under the ice which lined the banks of the creek."
It was while undergoing such experience as we have endeavored to narrate that the characters of men show forth in their true light and can be fully analyzed. John C. Fremont never was found wanting in times such as tried men's hearts. He was worthy of the trust reposed in him. His was no ordinary command. The men he had to deal with, in their line, had no superiors on the American Continent; yet, he proved a match for any one of them and gained from them the name of being a good mountaineer, an encomium they are not prone to bestow lightly.
The party now commenced descending the mountains. On reaching the valley beneath, Fremont, taking Kit Carson and six of the men, pushed on in advance, in order to reach Sutter's Fort, where he would be able to purchase provisions. Fitzpatrick was left in charge of the main party, with orders to make easy marches. The [pg 199] second day after this division was made, Mr. Preuss, Fremont's assistant, accidentally got lost. His friends began making search for him. This failing, they traveled on slowly, fired guns and used every means in their power to let their whereabouts be known to him. After wandering about for four days, to the surprise and joy of his companions, he came into camp. During his absence he had subsisted on acorns and roots, and, as a matter of course, was nearly exhausted both in body and mind. Three days after Mr. Preuss was restored to them, Fremont, with the advance party, reached Sutter's Fort. He and his party were very hospitably received. They were entertained with the best the post could furnish, by its kind-hearted proprietor. Never did men more deserve such treatment. The condition of all was about as miserable as it could well be imagined, for men who retained their hold on life.
It was at Sutter's Fort, as most of our readers will remember, that the great gold mines of California first received their kindling spark, the discovery of that precious metal having been made there. While some men were digging a mill-race the alluring deposit first appeared. This event has made the Fort world-renowned.
At the time we describe Fremont on his second expedition, nothing whatever was known of the immense fields of treasure over which he and his men daily walked, although, for many years previous to the discovery being made, the mountaineers had trapped all the rivers in that vicinity, and on their banks had herded their animals for months together. They had drank thousands of times from the pure water as it flowed in the river's channel, [pg 200] and, no doubt, frequently their eyes had penetrated through it until they saw the sand beneath in which, perchance, the sparkling specs may have occasionally allured them sufficiently to recall the proverb that "all is not gold that glitters."
The writer once made inquiry of one of these mountaineers who had spent two summers in the manner narrated above near and at Sutter's Fort some twenty years since. He was asked whether he ever saw there anything in the shape of gold which in any way aroused his suspicions? His reply was: "Never. And had I, it would have been only for a brief space of time, as finally I should have been certain that I was deluded and mistaken, without there had been the Eagle of our country stamped upon it."
Provisions were immediately obtained at the Fort and carried to Fitzpatrick and his party. Great difficulty had now to be encountered to prevent the men from losing their lives by the sudden change from want to comparative luxury. Notwithstanding the utmost care was taken, some of the party lost their reason. The hardships of the journey had proved too much for them. Fitzpatrick and the main body arrived at the Fort in a few days, where they were likewise welcomed by its hospitable and generous proprietor, Captain Sutter. His name in California has ever been but another term for kindness and sympathy for the unfortunate. This expedition, in one respect only, can be called unfortunate. When the terrible sufferings of the commander and his men have been named, the catalogue of misfortune is ended. Its results, grand and glorious, have immortalized the name of [pg 201] every man who assisted, in any way, to accomplish it. "I belonged to the several Exploring Expeditions of John C. Fremont" is the key note to the respect and homage of the American nation; the truth would be equally real, if we add, to the whole civilized world. Every heart which beats with admiration for the heroic, or which is capable of appreciating the rich contributions to the sciences, direct resultants from their terrible sufferings, has thrilled with delight when possessed of the history which records the brilliant achievements of these Exploring Parties.
The band started from the little town of Kansas on the twenty-ninth day of May, 1843. It returned to the United States in August, 1844. After traveling seventeen hundred miles, it reached, September sixth, Salt Lake. On the fourth day of November it reached Fort Vancouver, on the Columbia River. On the sixth day of March, 1844, it reached Sutter's Fort in the destitute condition already explained. The distance from Fort Hall by the route taken is about two thousand miles. The party remained at Sutter's Fort until the twenty-fourth day of March, or as Kit Carson expresses the time from his memory, the expedition remained at this place about one month. At the expiration of this time, the party was sufficiently recruited to be ready for their return journey, which they commenced in April, 1844. Just previous to their taking leave of Mr. Sutter, two of the company became deranged, owing to the privations and fasting to which they had been obliged to submit before being ushered into a land of plenty. They had indulged appetite too freely, and brought on one of those strange [pg 202] revolutions in the brain's action which never fails to excite the pity of friend and foe. The first warning which the party had that one of the men was laboring under a disordered intellect occurred in the following manner. Early in the morning the man suddenly started from his sleep and began to ask his companions where his riding animal was gone. During this time it was by him, but he did not know it. Unknown to the rest of the party he started off soon after in search of his imaginary animal. As soon as his absence became known to Fremont, he surmised the truth and sent persons in all directions to hunt for him. They searched the neighboring country for many miles and made inquiries of all the friendly Indians they chanced upon, but failed to discover him. Several days of delay was caused by this most unhappy circumstance. Finally, it becoming necessary for the party to depart without him, word was left with Mr. Sutter to continue the hunt. He did so most faithfully; and, by his exertions, some time after the party had set out on the return trip, the maniac was found and kept at the Fort until he had entirely recovered. He was then, on the first opportunity, provided with a passage to the United States. Before we follow the party on their homeward-bound tramp, it is proper that the reader should be favored with the estimate and views which the American historian, statesman and scholar, Colonel Benton, has recorded concerning the perils undergone and results accomplished by this expedition. His pen is so graphic and life-like that the reader will doubtless thank us for the extract. Besides presenting a view of the expedition, it will unfold a fact which shows where the [pg 203] origin of the expedition had its conception. We give all he says concerning the expedition.17
"'The government deserves credit for the zeal with which it has pursued geographical discovery.' Such is the remark which a leading paper made upon the discoveries of Fremont, on his return from his second expedition to the great West; and such is the remark which all writers will make upon all his discoveries who write history from public documents and outside views. With all such writers the expeditions of Fremont will be credited to the zeal of the government for the promotion of science, as if the government under which he acted had conceived and planned these expeditions, as Mr. Jefferson did that of Lewis and Clark, and then selected this young officer to carry into effect the instructions delivered to him. How far such history would be true in relation to the first expedition, which terminated in the Rocky Mountains, has been seen in the account which has been given of the origin of that undertaking, and which leaves the government innocent of its conception; and, therefore, not entitled to the credit of its authorship, but only to the merit of permitting it. In the second, and greater expedition, from which great political as well as scientific results have flowed, their merit is still less; for, while equally innocent of its conception, they were not equally passive to its performance—countermanding the expedition after it had begun—and lavishing censure upon the adventurous young explorer for his manner of undertaking it. The fact was, that his first [pg 204] expedition barely finished, Mr. Fremont sought and obtained orders for a second one, and was on the frontier of Missouri with his command when orders arrived at St. Louis to stop him, on the ground that he had made a military equipment which the peaceful nature of his geographical pursuit did not require! as if Indians did not kill and rob scientific men as well as others if not in a condition to defend themselves. The particular point of complaint was that he had taken a small mountain howitzer, in addition to his rifles; and which he was informed, was charged to him, although it had been furnished upon a regular requisition on the commandant of the arsenal at St. Louis, approved by the commander of the military department (Colonel, afterward General Kearney). Mr. Fremont had left St. Louis, and was at the frontier, Mrs. Fremont being requested to examine the letters that came after him, and forward those which he ought to receive. She read the countermanding orders and detained them! and Fremont knew nothing of their existence, until after he had returned from one of the most marvellous and eventful expeditions of modern times—one to which the United States are indebted (among other things) for the present ownership of California, instead of seeing it a British possession. The writer of this View, who was then in St. Louis, approved of the course which his daughter had taken (for she had stopped the orders before he knew it); and he wrote a letter to the department condemning the recall, repulsing the reprimand which had been lavished upon Fremont, and demanding a court-martial for him when [pg 205] he should return. The Secretary of War was then Mr. James Madison Porter, of Pennsylvania; the chief of the topographical corps the same as now (Colonel Abert), himself an office man, surrounded by West Point officers, to whose pursuit of easy service, Fremont's adventurous expeditions was a reproach; and in conformity to whose opinions the secretary seemed to have acted. On Fremont's return, upwards of a year afterwards, Mr. William Wilkins, of Pennsylvania, was Secretary of War, and received the young explorer with all honor and friendship, and obtained for him the brevet of captain from President Tyler. And such is the inside view of this piece of history—very different from what documentary evidence would make it.
"To complete his survey across the continent, on the line of travel between the State of Missouri and the tide-water region of the Columbia, was Fremont's object in this expedition; and it was all that he had obtained orders for doing; but only a small part, and to his mind an insignificant part, of what he proposed doing. People had been to the mouth of the Columbia before, and his ambition was not limited to making tracks where others had made them before him. There was a vast region beyond the Rocky Mountains—the whole western slope of our continent—of which but little was known; and of that little, nothing with the accuracy of science. All that vast region, more than seven hundred miles square—equal to a great kingdom in Europe—was an unknown land—a sealed book, which he longed to open, and to read. Leaving the frontier of Missouri in May, 1843, and often diverging [pg 206] from his route for the sake of expanding his field of observation, he had arrived in the tide-water region of Columbia in the month of November; and had then completed the whole service which his orders embraced. He might then have returned upon his tracks, or been brought home by sea, or hunted the most pleasant path for getting back; and if he had been a routine officer, satisfied with fulfilling an order, he would have done so. Not so the young explorer, who held his diploma from nature, and not from the United States Military Academy. He was at Fort Vancouver, guest of the hospitable Dr. McLaughlin, Governor of the British Hudson Bay Fur Company; and obtained from him all possible information upon his intended line of return—faithfully given, but which proved to be disastrously erroneous in its leading and governing feature. A southeast route to cross the great unknown region diagonally through its heart (making a line from the Lower Columbia to the Upper Colorado of the Gulf of California), was his line of return; twenty-five men (the same who had come with him from the United States) and a hundred horses were his equipment; and the commencement of winter the time of starting—all without a guide, relying upon their guns for support; and, in the last resort, upon their horses—such as should give out! for one that could carry a man, or a pack, could not be spared for food.
"All the maps up to that time had shown this region traversed from east to west—from the base of the Rocky Mountains to the Bay of San Francisco—by a great river called the Buena Ventura: which may be [pg 207] translated, the Good Chance. Governor McLaughlin believed in the existence of this river, and made out a conjectural manuscript map to show its place and course. Fremont believed in it, and his plan was to reach it before the dead of winter, and then hybernate upon it. As a great river he knew that it must have some rich bottoms, covered with wood and grass, where the wild animals would collect and shelter, when the snows and freezing winds drove them from the plains; and with these animals to live on, and grass for the horses, and wood for fires, he expected to avoid suffering, if not to enjoy comfort, during his solitary sojourn in that remote and profound wilderness.
"He proceeded—soon encountered deep snows which impeded progress upon the highlands—descended into a low country to the left (afterwards known to be the Great Basin, from which no water issues to any sea)—skirted an enormous chain of mountain on the right, luminous with glittering white snow—saw strange Indians, who mostly fled—found a desert—no Buena Ventura; and death from cold and famine staring him in the face. The failure to find the river, or tidings of it, and the possibility of its existence seeming to be forbid by the structure of the country, and hybernation in the inhospitable desert being impossible, and the question being that of life and death, some new plan of conduct became indispensable. His celestial observations told him that he was in the latitude of the Bay of San Francisco, and only seventy miles from it. But what miles! up and down that snowy mountain which [pg 208] the Indians told him no men could cross in the winter—which would have snow upon it as deep as the trees, and places where people would slip off and fall half a mile at a time—a fate which actually befell a mule, packed with the precious burden of botanical specimens, collected along a travel of two thousand miles. No reward could induce an Indian to become a guide in the perilous adventure of crossing this mountain. All recoiled and fled from the adventure. It was attempted without a guide—in the dead of winter—accomplished in forty days—the men and surviving horses—a woeful procession, crawling along one by one; skeleton men leading skeleton horses—and arriving at Sutter's Settlement in the beautiful valley of the Sacramento; and where a genial warmth, and budding flowers, and trees in foliage, and grassy ground, and flowing streams, and comfortable food, made a fairy contrast with the famine and freezing they had encountered, and the lofty Sierra Nevada which they had climbed. Here he rested and recruited; and from this point, and by way of Monterey, the first tidings were heard of the party since leaving Fort Vancouver.
"Another long progress to the south, skirting the western base of the Sierra Nevada, made him acquainted with the noble valley of the San Joaquin, counterpart to that of the Sacramento; when crossing through a gap, and turning to the left, he skirted the Great Basin; and by many deviations from the right line home, levied incessant contributions to science from expanded lands, not described before. In this eventful exploration, all the great features of the western [pg 209] slope of our continent were brought to light—the Great Salt Lake, the Utah Lake, the Little Salt Lake; at all which places, then deserts, the Mormons now are; the Sierra Nevada, then solitary in the snow, now crowded with Americans, digging gold from its flanks: the beautiful valleys of the Sacramento and San Joaquin, then alive with wild horses, elk, deer, and wild fowls, now smiling with American cultivation; the Great Basin itself and its contents; the Three Parks; the approximation of the great rivers which, rising together in the central region of the Rocky Mountains, go off east and west, towards the rising and the setting sun—all these, and other strange features of a new region, more Asiatic than American, were brought to light and revealed to public view in the results of this exploration.
"Eleven months he was never out of sight of snow; and sometimes, freezing with cold, would look down upon a sunny valley, warm with genial heat;—sometimes panting with the summer's heat, would look up at the eternal snows which crowned the neighboring mountain. But it was not then that California was secured to the Union—to the greatest power of the New World—to which it of right belonged; but it was the first step towards the acquisition, and the one that led to it. The second expedition led to a third, just in time to snatch the golden California from the hands of the British, ready to clutch it. But of this hereafter. Fremont's second expedition was now over. He had left the United States a fugitive from his government, and returned with a name that went over [pg 210] Europe and America, and with discoveries bearing fruit which the civilized world is now enjoying."
On their homeward-bound journey, the party followed up the valley of the San Joaquin crossing over the Sierra Nevada and coast range of mountains at a point where they join and form a beautiful low pass. They continued on from here close under the coast range until they struck the Spanish Trail. This they followed to the Mohave River. That stream, it will be recollected, was an old friend of Kit Carson's. The reader will recall the many times he had caught beaver out of its waters. They followed the trail up the course of the river to where it leaves it. At this point an event occurred which somewhat retarded their progress, relieving the monotony of the route and somewhat changing their plans.
Soon after the camp had been formed, they were visited by a Mexican man and boy; the one named Andreas Fuentes, the other Pablo Hernandez. They informed Fremont that they belonged to a party of Mexican traders which had come from New Mexico. They said that six of them, including in this number two women who acted as cooks, had been left by their friends in charge of a band of horses. The rest of the party were absent trafficking. The party of six thus left to watch the horses, consisted of Santiago Giacome, Andreas Fuentes and wife, and Pablo Hernandez, together with his father and mother. They were endeavoring to find better grazing for their animals. For this purpose they had penetrated the country as far as they [pg 211] dared; and, at about eighty miles from the camp of Fremont, had resolved to wait for their friends. Fuentes and the boy Pablo were on guard over the animals when their camp was attacked by hostile savages. The attacking band was about thirty in number.
Their principal object was to seize the horses. To effect this the more easily, they saluted the little band with a flight of arrows as they advanced. Fuentes and Pablo now heard Giacome warning them to start the horses and run for it. Both were mounted. They obeyed the directions of Giacome and with the entire band of horses charged boldly into the midst of the Indians regardless of their weapons. The charge succeeded in breaking their line, through which Fuentes and Pablo boldly dashed after their animals. The Indians deferred the chase to attend to a more bloody purpose. Having put sixty miles between them and the site of the attack, they left their horses and started in search of their main body. This search led them into Fremont's camp. Fuentes feared that the worst had overtaken his wife. Pablo already looked upon himself as an orphan boy. He doubted not that the bloody savages had murdered both his father and mother. It was a sad picture to witness their grief. But Kit Carson could not do so unmoved. The heart of such grief has ever awakened his earnest sympathy. His sympathy, too, has never been of a wordy nature. He volunteered to go with Fuentes and make an attempt to deliver the captives, if such they should prove, or to avenge their death, if that became the sad alternative.
Fuentes had left the horses at a spring of water, well [pg 212] known to Carson. There he had found signs of white men which had led him into Fremont's camp. There was no difficulty for Carson to find the spring. The whole company therefore traveled to the spring, which they reached early the next morning, distant about thirty miles from their last camp. The horses were not to be seen. A short examination of signs soon revealed to Carson and Godey that the two Mexicans had been followed by the Indians and that they had come upon the horses shortly after they had left them. Of course therefore they had captured and driven them off.
Carson and Godey were determined to make one effort to punish the rascals. They started, taking Fuentes with them, upon the trail of the Indians. The chase was a severe one, as, in the judgment of the mountaineers, the Indians would not make a short trail after acquiring so much booty. The horse which Fuentes rode, most unfortunately, gave out after a short ride. There was no time to be lost and no means at hand to supply this important deficiency. To turn back to camp would supply it, but that course would also lose them their game. Fuentes, therefore, was requested to return to Fremont's camp, and there await the return of Kit Carson and Godey. These two had been the only men in the entire command who had volunteered in this chase. The loss of Fuentes therefore made their task literally a Don Quixotic adventure. Two men against thirty. But Kit Carson was not the man to turn his back upon an adventure as soon as the difficulties began to present themselves. He well knew that he had one man on whom he could rely. Richard Godey was his tried and trusty [pg 213] friend, his kindred spirit and a noble hearted man. Leaving the Mexican to find his way back to camp, a distance of about twenty miles, they gave him their word that they would finish the business. The following night was very dark, and in order to keep on the right scent Carson and Godey were obliged to lead their horses and frequently to follow the trail by the sense of feeling. It was seldom, however, that they lost the path, and never for more than a few moments at a time. Gradually the signs grew fresher as they advanced, which gave them the assurance that they were rapidly gaining on the pursuit. Finally, they concluded that only a few hours separated them from the savages. Having accomplished a considerable part of their journey during the night, and finding that both themselves and their horses required rest, they concluded to halt. Having unsaddled their animals and turned them out to graze, they wrapped themselves up in their wet blankets and laid down to sleep. The weather, however, was too cold to permit sleeping in comfort without a fire. That they dare not make, fearing it would prove a warning signal to the savages. Having worried through the remainder of this cold and cheerless night, they arose early in the morning and went to the bottom of a deep ravine where they kindled a small fire and succeeded in warming themselves. At daybreak they re-saddled their jaded horses and once more started upon the trail. Just as the sun was rising they discovered the Indians. When first seen they were encamped two miles in advance, and were enjoying a breakfast on horse steaks, having already killed five of the stolen animals. Kit Carson and his friend dismounted, and, [pg 214] concealing their horses near by, held a council of war. They decided to crawl in among the herd of stolen animals which were grazing, without guard, at a short distance from the camp of the savages. Upon reaching the horses, they agreed to be guided by circumstances. First divesting themselves of all useless apparel, they commenced their task. After much cautious labor they gained their point and stood among the animals. As soon, however, as they arrived, one of the young horses of the band became frightened at the grotesque figures cut by the two creeping men and exhibited his fear by snorting and kicking up his heels. This alarmed the remainder of the horses and caused quite a commotion among them, which had the effect to alarm the savages, who sprang for their arms. With a yell, Carson and Godey instantly turned towards the savages. As soon as they were all fairly in view the two white men saw that they had thirty warriors before them to deal with. When they had advanced within rifle range Kit Carson halted and, aiming his rifle at the stoutest looking brave, fired. The fierce savage fell with a cry of anguish. Godey had also halted and fired, but he missed his aim. Instantly reloading, he made the second attempt and this time brought down a warrior. While these events were taking place the red men were running about in great confusion. Occasionally they returned a few arrows, but they all proved but harmless missiles. The fact was the Indians were puzzled what to think of the audacity of the two men. Evidently they considered them to be an advance party of some strong force, acting with a view of decoying them into a close fight. Acting upon this [pg 215] they began to fly in every direction except that from which danger impended. Kit and Godey, as they had calculated, were thus, quite unceremoniously, left masters of the enemy's camp. Besides the recaptured horses, they had two trophies lying upon the ground in the shape of a brace of stalwart warriors. In order to show their companions on their return that they were not given to boasting, they followed the example and practice of the savages and scalped the two Indians. The common expression now in use is that they proceeded to "take the hair" of their victims. The performance of this act was a matter of choice and fell to the lot of Godey, while Kit Carson, with the two rifles, ascended an eminence near at hand for the double purpose of standing guard over his companion and also to reconnoitre. Godey commenced his operations on the savage which he himself had shot. Having finished with him, he started for the other Indian hit by Kit Carson. But this fellow after he had fallen had crawled quite out of view among some rocks. Being only wounded, he raised up and sent an arrow at Godey as he approached which pierced his shirt collar. The Indian had already lost a large amount of blood. His last act so exhausted him that he sank back upon the ground and expired. They next proceeded to collect the horses. Upon counting them they found the number stated by the Mexican to be correct with the exception of five killed by the Indians for their feast. The animals were now driven to the spot where their own horses had been left.. Here they held another council and determined to seek out the fate of the remainder of the Mexican party. They therefore bent [pg 216] their steps towards the late camp of the Mexicans. There they found the bodies of the two men terribly mangled. The savage ferocity of the rascally savages had here had full play as soon as they found that the two who were on guard had broken through their line and escaped with the horses. Their bodies were naked and full of arrows. The women were not to be found. The remains were decently interred by Carson and Godey, and then they set about looking for the women. After a long search they could discover nothing of them, and concluded that they had been reserved for a worse fate. The remains of these two poor captives were afterwards found by some of Fremont's men. The Indians, not satisfied with killing them, had staked their bodies to the ground. Kit Carson and Godey having now accomplished, on this errand of mercy, all that lay in the power of man to do, set out to return and soon rejoined their friends, whom they found anxiously waiting for them. Col. Fremont concludes his account of this affair in the following words:
"Their object accomplished, our men gathered up all the surviving horses, fifteen in number, returned upon their trail, and rejoined us at our camp in the afternoon of the same day. They had rode about one hundred miles in the pursuit and return, and all in thirty hours. The time, place, object, and numbers considered, this expedition of Carson and Godey may be considered among the boldest and most disinterested which the annals of western adventure, so full of daring deeds, can present. Two men, in a savage [pg 217] desert, pursue day and night an unknown body of Indians into the defiles of an unknown mountain—attack them on sight, without counting numbers—and defeat them in an instant—and for what? To punish the robbers of the desert, and to avenge the wrongs of Mexicans whom they did not know. I repeat: it was Carson and Godey who did this—the former an American, born in Kentucky; the latter a Frenchman by descent, born in St. Louis; and both trained to western enterprise from early life."
The stolen property was restored to the Mexicans without one cent being demanded or received by either Carson or Godey.
It was not for the love of Indian fighting as many may suppose, that Kit Carson was moved to take part in such expeditions; but, when the life of a fellow-creature is exposed to Indian barbarities, no living man is more willing, or more capable of rendering a lasting service than Christopher Carson. A name that, wherever it is known, is ranked among the "bravest of the brave."
Soon after the two volunteers came in, Fremont resumed his journey and continued it without anything transpiring to disturb the equanimity of the party until they reached a point on the Virgin River where the Spanish Trail leaves it. It became necessary to change camps here, in order that the animals might take advantage of better grass. As the party were enjoying a day's rest, one of the men, a Canadian by birth, missed his riding mule from the herd. Without informing any of his friends of his intentions, he started out in quest [pg 218] of the animal. His absence, at first, was not noticed; but, soon, inquiries were made for him, and when an unusual length of time had passed without his return, Fremont became anxious for his safety. He directed Kit Carson to take three men and go in search of him. On arriving at their last camp, Kit found a spot where, undoubtedly, the man had fallen from his horse wounded, as, about the place, there were pools of coagulated blood. It was now believed that their companion was dead. Kit immediately ordered the party to search for his body, but they could not find it. They then followed the trail of the Canadian's horse, which it was very evident he had caught and mounted before being shot. It led to where the animal had crossed the river. There, all signs disappeared. After a faithful search for the trail, Kit returned to camp, and informed his commander of the result of his day's work. The next morning the search was renewed by all of the company. They discovered Indian signs, yet could not trace them to where the body was. After looking in every conceivable hiding-place in the neighborhood of the signs, they gave up the hunt. Kit Carson was much affected by the loss of this man. He had been his friend. They had been associated in many trapping expeditions, and knew each other most intimately. He felt assured that, if the Canadian had not been surprised by any enemy in ambuscade, he would have killed one or two Indians before he himself fell; for, besides being a very brave man, he was well versed in Indian mode of warfare, and was considered a fine marksman.
The party now proceeded on their journey, returning [pg 219] to and keeping on the Spanish Trail, which was not left until they reached the "Vega of Santa Clara." There they struck out across the country to the Utah lake, which, after crossing, they left, and went to the Wintry River, and thence to Green River, Brown's Hole, Little Snake River, and so on to the mouth of St. Vrain's Fork. It was here that they traversed the mountains and came upon Laramie River below the New Park. They journeyed through this into the Old Park, and thence traveled to the head waters of the south fork of the Platte. On quitting it, they bent their way to the Arkansas River, coming on to it at a point just below the place where it leaves the Rocky Mountains; and, by keeping on down it, they arrived at Bent's Fort on the 2d of July, 1844. On the following fourth of July Mr. Bent gave a dinner in commemoration of the occasion to Fremont and his party. Although hundreds of miles separated from their countrymen, yet they sat down to as sumptuous a repast as could be furnished in many towns of the States.
The exploring party considered their labors finished at this post, as, in accordance with the tastes of many of the party, they were near enough to civilization. The command was dissolved, and Colonel Fremont proceeded on his route to Washington. Kit Carson, about the same time, started for Taos, where he had been for a long time anxiously expected by his family and friends.
The description which Colonel Fremont has given of the country through which this expedition traveled, seems to be an appropriate and almost a necessary addition [pg 220] to this work. On the 24th day of May the party, on their return, reached the Utah Lake. "Early the next day," says Fremont, "we came in sight of the lake; and, as we descended to the broad bottoms of the Spanish Fork, three horsemen were seen galloping towards us, who proved to be Utah Indians—scouts from a village, which was encamped near the mouth of the river. They were armed with rifles, and their horses were in good condition. We encamped near them, on the Spanish Fork, which is one of the principal tributaries to the lake. Finding the Indians troublesome, and desirous to remain here a day, we removed the next morning further down the lake, and encamped on a fertile bottom near the foot of the same mountainous ridge which borders the Great Salt Lake, and along which we had journeyed the previous September.
"We had now accomplished an object we had in view when leaving the Dalles of the Columbia in November last; we had reached the Utah Lake; but by a route very different from what we had intended, and without sufficient time remaining to make the examinations which were desired. It is a lake of note in this country, under the dominion of the Utahs, who resort to it for fish. Its greatest breadth is about fifteen miles, stretching far to the north, narrowing as it goes, and connecting with the Great Salt Lake.
"In arriving at the Utah Lake, we had completed an immense circuit of twelve degrees diameter north and south, and ten degrees east and west; and found ourselves in May, 1844, on the same sheet of water which [pg 221] we had left in September, 1843. The Utah is the southern limb of the Great Salt Lake; and thus we had seen that remarkable sheet of water both at its northern and southern extremity, and were able to fix its position at these two points. The circuit which we had made, and which had cost us eight months of time, and 3,500 miles of traveling, had given us a view of Oregon and of North California from the Rocky Mountains to the Pacific Ocean, and of the two principal streams which form bays or harbors on the coast of that sea. Having completed this circuit, and being now about to turn the back upon the Pacific slope of our continent, and to recross the Rocky Mountains, it is natural to look back upon our footsteps, and take some brief view of the leading features and general structure of the country we have traversed. These are peculiar and striking, and differ essentially from the Atlantic side of our country. The mountains all are higher, more numerous, and more distinctly defined in their ranges and directions; and, what is so contrary to the natural order of such formations, one of these, ranges, which is near the coast (the Sierra Nevada and the Coast Range), presents higher elevations and peaks than any which are to be found in the Rocky Mountains themselves. In our eight months' circuit, we were never out, of sight of snow; and the Sierra Nevada, where we crossed it, was near 2,000 feet higher than the South Pass in the Rocky Mountains. In height, these mountains greatly exceed those of the Atlantic side, constantly presenting peaks which enter the region of eternal snow; and some of [pg 222] them volcanic, and in a frequent state of activity. They are seen at great distances and guide the traveler in his courses.
"The course and elevation of these ranges give direction to the rivers, and character to the coast. No great river does, or can, take its rise below the Cascade and Sierra Nevada Range; the distance to the sea is too short to admit of it. The rivers of the San Francisco Bay, which are the largest after the Columbia, are local to that bay, and lateral to the coast, having their sources about on a line with the Dalles of the Columbia, and running each in a valley of its own, between the Coast Range and the Cascade and Sierra Nevada Range. The Columbia is the only river which traverses the whole breadth of the country, breaking through all the ranges, and entering the sea. Drawing its waters from a section of ten degrees of latitude in the Rocky Mountains, which are collected into one stream by three main forks (Lewis's, Clark's, and the North Fork), near the centre of the Oregon valley, this great river thence proceeds by a single channel to the sea, while its three forks lead each to a pass in the mountains, which opens the way into the interior of the continent. This fact in relation to the rivers of this region gives an immense value to the Columbia. Its mouth is the only inlet and outlet to and from the sea; its three forks lead to the passes in the mountains; it is, therefore, the only line of communication between the Pacific and the interior of North America; and all operations of war or commerce, of national or social intercourse, must be conducted upon it. This gives it a value beyond estimation, [pg 223] and would involve irreparable injury if lost. In this unity and concentration of its waters, the Pacific side of our continent differs entirely from the Atlantic side, where the waters of the Alleghany Mountains are dispersed into many rivers, having their different entrances into the sea, and opening many lines of communication with the interior."
"The Pacific coast is equally different from that of the Atlantic. The coast of the Atlantic is low and open, indented with numerous bays, sounds, and river estuaries, accessible everywhere, and opening by many channels into the heart of the country. The Pacific coast, on the contrary, is high and compact, with few bays, and but one that opens into the heart of the country. The immediate coast is what the seamen call iron bound. A little within, it is skirted by two successive ranges of mountains, standing as ramparts between the sea and the interior country; and to get through which, there is but one gate, and that narrow and easily defended. This structure of the coast, backed by these two ranges of mountains, with its concentration and unity of waters, gives to the country an immense military strength, and will probably render Oregon the most impregnable country in the world."
"Differing so much from the Atlantic side of our continent in coast, mountains, and rivers, the Pacific side differs from it in another most rare and singular feature—that of the Great interior Basin, of which I have so often spoken, and the whole form and character of which I was so anxious to ascertain. Its existence is vouched for by such of the American traders and hunters [pg 224] as have some knowledge of that region; the structure of the Sierra Nevada range of mountains requires it to be there; and my own observations confirm it. Mr. Joseph Walker, who is so well acquainted in those parts, informed that, from the Great Salt Lake west, there was a succession of lakes and rivers which have no outlet to the sea, nor any connection with the Columbia, or with the Colorado of the Gulf of California. He described some of these lakes as being large, with numerous streams, and even considerable rivers, falling into them. In fact, all concur in the general report of these interior rivers and lakes; and, for want of understanding the force and power of evaporation, which so soon establishes an equilibrium between the loss and supply of waters, the fable of whirlpools and subterraneous outlets has gained belief as the only imaginable way of carrying off the waters which have no visible discharge. The structure of the country would require this formation of interior lakes; for the waters which would collect between the Rocky Mountains and the Sierra Nevada, not being able to cross this formidable barrier, nor to get to the Columbia or the Colorado, must naturally collect into reservoirs, each of which would have its little system of streams and rivers to supply it. This would be the natural effect; and what I saw went to confirm it. The Great Salt Lake is a formation of this kind, and quite a large one; and having many streams, and one considerable river, four or five hundred miles long, falling into it. This lake and river I saw and examined myself; and also saw the Wahsatch and Bear River Mountains which inclose the [pg 225] waters of the lake on the east, and constitute, in that quarter, the rim of the Great Basin. Afterwards, along the eastern base of the Sierra Nevada, where we traveled for forty-two days, I saw the line of lakes and rivers which lie at the foot of that Sierra; and which Sierra is the western rim of the Basin. In going down Lewis's Fork and the main Columbia, I crossed only inferior streams coming in from the left, such as could draw their water from a short distance only; and I often saw the mountains at their heads, white with snow; which, all accounts said, divided the waters of the desert from those of the Columbia, and which could be no other than the range of mountains which form the rim of the Basin on its northern side. And in returning from California along the Spanish trail, as far as the head of the Santa Clara Fork of the Rio Virgen, I crossed only small streams making their way south to the Colorado, or lost in sand—as the Mo-hah-ve; while to the left, lofty mountains, their summits white with snow, were often visible, and which must have turned water to the north as well as to the south, and thus constituted, on this part, the southern rim of the Basin. At the head of the Santa Clara Fork, and in the Vegas de Santa Clara, we crossed the ridge which parted the two systems of waters. We entered the Basin at that point, and have traveled in it ever since, having its southeastern rim (the Wahsatch Mountain) on the right, and crossing the streams which flow down into it. The existence of the Basin is, therefore, an established fact in my mind; its extent and contents are yet to be better ascertained. It cannot [pg 226] be less than four or five hundred miles each way, and must lie principally in the Alta California; the demarcation latitude of 42° probably cutting a segment from the north part of the rim. Of its interior, but little is known. It is called a desert, and, from what I saw of it, sterility may be its prominent characteristic; but where there is so much water there must be some oasis. The great river and the great lake reported may not be equal to the report; but where there is so much snow, there must be streams; and where there is no outlet, there must be lakes to hold the accumulated waters, or sands to swallow them up. In this eastern part of the basin, containing Sevier, Utah, and the Great Salt lakes, and the rivers and creeks falling into them, we know there is good soil and good grass, adapted to civilized settlements. In the western part, on Salmon-trout River, and some other streams, the same remark may be made."
"The contents of this Great Basin are yet to be examined. That it is peopled, we know; but miserably and sparsely. From all that I heard and saw, I should say that humanity here appeared in its lowest form, and in its most elementary state. Dispersed in single families; without fire-arms; eating seeds and insects; digging roots (and hence their name); such is the condition of the greater part. Others are a degree higher, and live in communities upon some lake or river that supplies fish, and from which they repulse the miserable digger. The rabbit is the largest animal known in this desert; its flesh affords a little meat; and their bag-like covering is made of its skins. The wild sage is [pg 227] their only wood, and here it is of extraordinary size—sometimes a foot in diameter, and six or eight feet high. It serves for fuel, for building material, for shelter to the rabbits, and for some sort of covering for the feet and legs in cold weather. Such are the accounts of the inhabitants and productions of the Great Basin; and which, though imperfect, must have some foundation, and excite our desire to know the whole."
"The whole idea of such a desert and such a people, is a novelty in our country, and excites Asiatic, not American ideas. Interior basins, with their own systems of lakes and rivers, and often sterile, are common enough in Asia; people in the elementary state of families, living in deserts, with no other occupation than the mere animal search for food, may still be seen in that ancient quarter of the globe; but in America such things are new and strange, unknown and unsuspected, and discredited when related. But I flatter myself that what is discovered, though not enough to satisfy curiosity, is sufficient to excite it, and that subsequent explorations will complete what has been commenced."
"This account of the Great Basin, it will be remembered, belongs to the Alta California, and has no application to Oregon, whose capabilities may justify a separate remark. Referring to my journal for particular descriptions, and for sectional boundaries between good and bad districts, I can only say, in general and comparative terms, that, in that branch of agriculture which implies the cultivation of grains and staple crops, [pg 228] it would be inferior to the Atlantic States, though many parts are superior for wheat, while in the rearing of flocks and herds it would claim a high place. Its grazing capabilities are great; and even in the indigenous grass now there, an element of individual and national wealth may be found. In fact the valuable grasses begin within one hundred and fifty miles of the Missouri frontier and extend to the Pacific Ocean. East of the Rocky Mountains, it is the short, curly grass, on which the buffalo delight to feed (whence its name of buffalo), and which is still good when dry and apparently dead. West of those mountains it is a larger growth, in clusters, and hence called bunch grass, and which has a second or fall growth. Plains and mountains both exhibit them; and I have seen good pasturage at an elevation of ten thousand feet. In this spontaneous product, the trading or traveling caravans can find subsistence for their animals; and in military operations any number of cavalry may be moved, and any number of cattle may be driven, and thus men and horses be supported on long expeditions, and even in winter in the sheltered situations.
"Commercially, the value of the Oregon country must be great, washed as it is by the North Pacific Ocean, fronting Asia, producing many of the elements of commerce, mild and healthy in its climate, and becoming, as it naturally will, a thoroughfare for the East India and China trade."
Col. Fremont, in this beautiful and instructive passage of descriptive writing, refers to the grass on which the buffalo "delight to feed." It is eminently proper that [pg 229] we should add a few words for general information concerning the grasses of the prairies, as also concerning the timber, flowers, game, face of the country, etc., etc., in which the whole life of Kit Carson has been spent.
On the west side of the Arkansas River, and between that stream and the Rocky Mountains, there are three distinct species of grass found. The first is the short, curly variety, on which the buffalo are said to feed, from which fact it takes its name. The second kind is the Grama grass, which is, I believe, indigenous to only this section of America. Its stalk grows to the height of about one foot. Near its top, it gives off, at right angles, another stem, which is usually from one and a half to three inches in length. From this last-mentioned stem, hang clusters of seeds which are well protected by a suitable covering. It is said, and my own observation confirms the fact, that horses will leave grain, such as corn and oats, to feed on this grass; and its wonderful nutritious properties cannot be denied. Wild oats are often seen in the mountain valleys. Along the low swampy lands which skirt the rivers of the plains, there is yet another species of grass which grows oftentimes several feet high, and has a broad blade, similar almost to that of the flag plant. On approaching the mountains the blue grass is found, which is nearly the same as that usually met with in many of our western States. The bunch grass, as spoken of by Fremont, is not confined to the mountains in New Mexico; it is sometimes met with in the valleys, where it grows to an immense height; but, in the low lands, it is useless, being too tough for animals to masticate. Strangers, when journeying [pg 230] in these parts, often make the mistake of selecting camps in this tall grass, being deceived by its thrifty appearance; but, one night, thus spent, will clearly prove its utter worthlessness.
On the plains there are but few wild flowers; but, as the traveler approaches the mountains, they greet his eyes in extensive beds and of variegated colors. As a grazing country, the Rocky Mountains and their immediate vicinity cannot be surpassed. The timber found there is poor in quality. It comprises pine, cedar, and cotton wood, with here and there patches of small and crooked oak bushes. The rivers in the mountains are formed from melting snows and springs. They come tumbling down through rough gorges and rocky cañons, until they are free in the valleys, where, they form bold and beautiful rivers. The brook trout are the fish which mostly inhabit them, and, a singular fact, in many of these streams this kind of fish treat the presence of a man with perfect indifference, which has led me to believe, that in their primitive state, the "shy trout" fear neither man nor beast. The Indians catch them, and it may be that this fish is first frightened by them. In the Rocky Mountains, south of the head waters of the Arkansas, comparatively speaking, there are but few small birds and squirrels. The raven, the crow, the hawk, the owl, and occasionally the eagle, are seen. Wild geese, ducks, and cranes, are common. Pigeons, including the wild dove, are not often seen. The magpie is found in abundance. Turkeys and grouse are also in abundance. Wild rabbits and a species of hare are also common. Indeed a man can travel for days in the [pg 231] Rocky Mountains and never hear the musical notes of a bird. In these mountains, rattle-snakes are only found in the valleys, where it is warm. In the summer, the deer and elk live in the mountains; but, when cold weather sets in, they are driven out of them by the deep snows. The antelope of the plains seek the mountain valleys during the winter. The buffalo migrate south as the season becomes too severe for them. Sometimes they are caught by the storms, and are obliged to winter also in the mountain valleys. The pine trees of the Rocky Mountains bear a small nut, which is called by the Mexicans piñon, which, when cooked, are quite pleasant to the taste. There are many small salt lakes in the mountains, and many marshes, where the ground is covered white by the salt deposit. The mineral wealth of the Rocky Mountains is very great, and there is no doubt but some day, rich veins of gold, silver, and iron ore will be discovered there. The geological formation of the country is such as to warrant this belief. Nearly every stream carries down in its floods that precious metal, gold; but, in such small quantities, as not to attract the attention of miners. I have found there, on the surface of the earth, small pieces of material resembling stone coal, which have probably been thrown up by some volcanic action. Hot and mineral springs are not unfrequently met with. They are places of frequent resort by the Indians, who use them for medicinal purposes.
[pg 232]Kit Carson concludes to become a Farmer—He is joined in the Enterprise by a Friend—They build a Ranche on the Cimeron River—Descriptions of Mexican Customs and Country—Fremont once more at Bent's Fort—Express sent for Kit Carson to join the Expedition as Guide—The Ranche Sold, and the Departure—The Third Expedition and its Explorations—Difficulties with the Mexican-Californians—General Castro's Orders to leave the Country—Determination to Fight—Fremont goes to Lawson's Fort—Fremont and his Men encounter a Thousand Indians—The Battle and the Victory—The news that War had been declared between the United States and Mexico reaches Fremont—Lieutenant Gillespie rescued from the Indians—Three of the party killed in the Night by Indians—The Savages repulsed—The Burial of Comrades.
In the early spring of 1845, Kit Carson, after weighing the various occupations which presented, decided to become a farmer. One of his mountaineer friends, Mr. Richard Owens, came to the same conclusion. Together they talked over their plans, and concluded that it would be to them, at least, newness of life to be domiciled in their own houses. The two hunters carefully marked out their plans, and then set to work with a will for success to carry them into execution. A very short time enabled them to choose a farming site, because their knowledge of the country enabled them to see all of its desirable localities, as it were at a glance. They decided to purchase a tract of wild land situated on the little Cimeron River, and improve it. Their arrangements were soon made, tools and implements, stock and animals, provisions and necessaries all procured. With [pg 233] the services of some laborers hired by them, they were soon engaged actively preparing their land for the reception of seed. The spot which they selected was forty-five miles east of Taos. They commenced the enterprise by building some small huts. These afforded both themselves and their Mexican laborers a comfortable lodgment. They sowed a considerable quantity of grain, and prepared timber almost sufficient to build good substantial houses. Their vigorously prosecuted labors began to show evident results, and in the prospect, it was clearly apparent that another year would serve to give them profitable reward for their enterprise.
It seems appropriate at this point, that we should enable the reader to look upon and judge of the farming country and habits of New Mexico; their markets, and some of the manners and customs of the people who dwell in cities. The town of Taos affords a fair sample of the markets, and as Kit Carson has many times been exhibited to the reader at that place, it is very proper that we should describe it.
The town of Taos is located in a valley called by the same name. The town consists of a series of villages, which are scattered, and are known to the Mexicans by various names. The main village is called Fernandez de Taos, and is located near the centre of the valley, on a high plateau of ground. The buildings here, as, indeed, in all the towns of New Mexico, are constructed of adobes, and are one story high, with what is usually known as flat roofs. These houses are huddled together without much regard being paid to streets. The main [pg 234] attraction of the town is the plaza, where all the business, such as marketing, etc., is carried on. It is here that the stores are located; and, on a fête day, or in business hours, it is thronged with Mexicans, Americans, and Indians. Among these there is a large per-centage of idlers. The houses are mostly covered with a white material, which is either chalk or lime. The church is the largest building in the town, and is a rough specimen of architecture, which is rudely finished within. It has a flat-sounding bell, propped up in a sort of a belfry. To make a noise on this, a piece of iron, or several stones are used; and, when an attempt at chiming is made, it is very laughable. The figures representing saints, and even the altar, are a strange compound of imitation. On the respective days set apart by the Catholic church for worship, marriages and fête services are carried on with a great attempt at pomp, but, under the circumstances, they leave no lasting impression of grandeur, save on the inhabitants, who have beheld nothing beyond their own country. The dignitary most respected in these towns is the Padre (or Priest), who is looked upon as sacred; and, when so inclined, this class of men have the power of accomplishing much good; but, oftentimes, they pervert this power, setting bad examples in their mode of life, and offering wicked counsel. However, under the management of the present bishop, who is a very exemplary man, these things are being changed. The old Priests of New Mexico were formerly educated in Old Mexico. Their information was very imperfect, and their minds were contracted down to extreme narrowness, from want of observation; hence, they were the means [pg 235] of retarding the natural progress of the people. It cannot be denied but that the Catholic religion has been the pioneer system in the far West, and that, in the hands of good and pure men, it has done much praiseworthy work, and has set an example which other creeds might and ought to follow. The valley of Taos is bounded on all sides by lofty mountains, which are but continuations of the Rocky chain. The boundaries of this valley are very irregular, both in the course they take and in their altitudes. The valley is about thirty miles wide and some fifteen miles long. The ground has the appearance, at first sight, of being a plain; but, on closer observation, it is found to contain many ravines, and to bear the appearance of being undulating. To the west side of it, rolls the Rio Grande, which cuts, for most of the way, through a deep and impassable (for fording purposes) channel. In the valley, there are but few, if any, trees, which fact gives the villages a barren look. The mountains about are covered with timber, which is not generally of the first quality for building purposes. The number of people included within the limits of this valley, it is difficult to estimate; but, about ten thousand would include every living soul. The occupation of the people is farming. Raising horses, cattle and sheep is carried on to a certain extent; but most of the large herds of these animals owned in this town are kept at ranches situated at more distant points, where grass is to be had in abundance, and those retained about the villages are only kept for immediate use. The reason for this is found in the fact that most of this valley is not under cultivation, but is covered with sage bushes. It is around the [pg 236] skirts of the mountains, that the only valuable grass is found. The people, as a general thing, are quite poor, but, as they find a ready market through the military posts for their produce, they manage to realize some money, and thus live quite comfortably, in contrast with their former destitute condition under the government of Old Mexico. Some of the inhabitants might be said to be rich, though but few of this class own ten thousand dollars' worth of property. It is with great labor that the people of Taos bring their crops to perfection, as it is necessary to irrigate the soil, unless the season, which is rarely the fact, is favorable in furnishing rains to them. There are no fences to divide one man's possessions from another's; but, by common law, they furnish shepherds to guard their flocks and cattle and keep them from trespassing. The climate is very severe during the winter season, but in the summer it is delightful. The health of this community is wonderfully good. Indeed, the only severe diseases they have to contend against are brought on by vices. Excluding small pox, and the lesser complaints among young children, no epidemics are known. The country is so elevated and inland, that the air is dry and salubrious, and the "dew point" is rarely reached so as to amount to anything. It may be well to add here, that for the consumptive patient, in the early stages of the disease, there is no such climate in the world to visit, as that of New Mexico; but, as a matter of course, he must vary his location with the changes of temperature, being governed by the seasons. The winter in Taos is too severe for him; then, he must go South, towards, or even to El Paso, where it is congenial [pg 237] to his disease. I prophesy that some day our internal continent will be the "Mecca" for pilgrims with this disease.
The dress of the New Mexican is the same as in Old Mexico. The peasant wears his sombrero and his everlasting blanket, which serves him as a coat, and a covering by night. He rarely has but one suit of clothes, which are put on new and worn until they are of no further use. By amalgamating with the Americans, they are gradually changing their style of dress. The buckskin pants, which were characteristically cut and ornamented, are giving way to the ordinary cloth ones of his white companion. It is so with the blanket, which is being shed for the coat; and, again, this is true with the moccasin, which is being replaced by the leathern shoe. The dress of the female has undergone the same alteration. From almost a state of nudity, they have been raised to a position from which they look upon silk and satin with a "connoisseur's eye." When New Mexico was part and parcel of the domain of Old Mexico, Taos was the seat of much smuggling from the United States, and many an apparent pack of grain drawn into the town has been nothing less than packages of domestic goods, the duties upon which, when introduced in the legal way, were enormous; hence the white men engaged in this business, when successful, met with ample rewards for their labors. The frontiers were like the olden sea coasts. The Mexicans kept out scores of custom-house officers to guard their frontiers, but the shrewd foreigners, many times, were able to escape them; at others, they were so fortunate as to find that a bribe would answer as well. [pg 238] An old trick was to have a double bottom to a wagon, and, in the vacant space thus formed, were stowed valuable shawls and such light articles as would meet a sure and remunerative sale. Sometimes the goods were brought near the frontiers and there hidden in the ground until a favorable opportunity offered to steal them into the country. When there was great danger that these secreted goods would be discovered, the smugglers would so arrange a keg of powder with a loaded pistol pointing at it, with strings running to the shrubbery near by, so as to cause it to explode and kill the searchers should the bushes about be disturbed. One old smuggler once fixed things in this manner, but performed his task too well; for, on going to remove his property, he came very near blowing himself up, as the mine was sprung and he was thrown in the air, but miraculously escaped. Many of the adventures of these men would be interesting; but they are too voluminous to be embodied in our work. The valley of Taos is well watered by mountain streams which flow into the Rio Grande. On one of these creeks and near the mountains, to the east of Fernandez de Taos, is located an Indian Pueblo which is very interesting to the traveler. Its houses are built one on top of another until a sort of pyramid is formed. The people enter their respective domicils through the roofs, which form a kind of steps. At the foot of this queer building there is a church; and around, the scenery is very picturesque, as the whole is bounded on one side by a gap in the mountains, while on the other is the open valley. This band of Indians at first offered great resistance and fought with much [pg 239] bravery against the United States; but now they are counted among its most faithful allies, and are great in their admiration of Kit Carson. The farming utensils of the New Mexicans are rude in the extreme; but the agricultural implements of the Anglo-Saxon are slowly replacing these articles. The old plough, as frequently used at the present time by the New Mexicans, is indeed a curiosity, as it probably was invented in the earliest times. It consists of one piece of timber which is crooked the proper shape by nature; the end of this is sharpened, and on it is fastened a single piece of iron which has an attempt at a sharp point. The force to propel this farming implement is attached in the usual way, with but few modifications. Oxen are always employed in this labor, and their yoke is fastened after the Egyptian fashion, to their horns instead of by bows. In breaking up the hard prairies, this plough had a difficult task to perform and was often broken; but, by the assistance of men employed in clearing obstacles, such as sage bushes, etc., the task was imperfectly gone through with. The Mexican axe is another curious tool, which resembles as much the common pick of our laborers as it does the axe used by American woodsmen. The sickle is used in harvesting to this day in these parts, performing the duties of the scythe, the cradle, etc. The most remarkable sight of all is the Mexican cart, the noise of which, when moving, can, be heard on a still day at a great distance. The wheels of this vehicle are at least one foot thick, and consist of pieces of solid wood which are pegged together and made to approach a circle by the best judgment of the eye, without the aid of [pg 240] measuring. These wheels are very heavy, and when rolling they go by jerks, owing to their want of proportion, etc. The body of the cart, as are all of its parts, is made of soft wood, and seems to be constructed for weight and strength instead of beauty. The whole affair, when complete, is almost a load by itself; hence, it is capable of carrying but a small cargo. The grain that Mexicans of New Mexico grow is corn and wheat, and it is on these crops that they depend for their support. In converting this grain into flour, they either use the old water mill which is very primitive in its construction, or else, when these are not near by, they make use of two stones and grind it by hand. Their common diet is a sort of thick gruel made of corn meal, wheat bread, eggs, peas, beans, pumpkins, which latter articles they roast, and then break holes into them and with a spoon dip out the contents as they are required; and, to finish the catalogue, sometimes meat, game and milk. The fruits found in New Mexico are not various, and are mostly confined to apples, peaches, plums and grapes. These latter are truly superior, and are raised in the greatest abundance in the south of the Territory, where, also, they manufacture a very pleasant red wine, which goes by the name of El Paso Wine. We take the manners and customs of the people of Taos as a good type to judge of the manners and customs of the New Mexicans, for the town is second only in size, in this Territory, to Santa Fé. The inhabitants of New Mexico, notwithstanding their poverty and neglect, owing to their remote locality, are perhaps as happy and contented as any community in the world. They are not over-celebrated [pg 241] for their chastity or virtue; and, to the disgrace of the white man, they have not been assisted by him in these cardinal principles; but, time will work wonders on this score and teach the immorality of such proceedings. Their great source of enjoyment consists in dancing; and hence the fandango is always looked for as a time when dull care will be dispelled. A grand fandango is the event of a New Mexican's life. These affairs are gotten up sometimes for charitable purposes, when the money gathered in the sale of refreshments is distributed to the poor; or else they are started by individuals to make a little money out of. In a town the size of Taos, during the winter season, hardly a night passes by without a dance. Written invitations in Spanish are freely circulated about the town in order to entrap the strangers, while the inhabitants are invited by other means. The music consists of a high-strung violin and a species of guitar. This is perambulated about the town. The players perform light dancing tunes and accompany the music with their voices, making up the words as they go along. This music is learned entirely by ear, and is transmitted from one generation to another through the means of these fandangos. The vocal music is anything but harmonious to the ear, but some of the airs, when played on the instruments, are rather pleasing, and one, on hearing them, finds himself often humming them afterwards. The powers of music are nowhere better illustrated than among these people. Their ready ear quickly catches a new tune, and it is not uncommon to hear, in a Mexican town, a señorita giving vent to a negro melody or a favorite polka which [pg 242] she has heard some American sing or whistle. At Santa Fé there are several noted players on the violin and harp who cannot read a word of music, yet they can play on their respective instruments with taste and skill. A New Mexican female, in preparing herself for these balls, is very particular in making, by the aid of cosmetics, her complexion as light as possible. She first uses a red berry which stains her face almost to the color of brick and renders her excessively ugly; this she leaves on several hours, when it is washed off and chalk is applied so freely as to render it easily perceptible. In her toilet she is also very particular, as far as the exterior is concerned, and in the fandango the stranger's eyes are taken by storm by the gaudy colors he sees rather than the neatness of the dress. The floor of the dancing-room is usually the mother earth, which is frequently sprinkled with water to keep down the dust. The men are in their everyday habiliments, with the addition of any clean thing they may chance to possess; but, usually they are a motley crowd, a glance at whom at first leaves the impression that they are far from being refined. Except when dancing, they cling to their blankets, and at the least pause in the proceedings, they at once draw forth the materials and make their cigarettos. Both men and women indulge in these articles; and oftentimes when the dance is in full blast, the air of the room is densely charged with the smell of the burning punchi, a species of tobacco, making it anything but agreeable. The women are seated on benches along the walls of the building, by themselves, while the men congregate in knots together. On the commencement of a [pg 243] figure, the Mexican selects his partner and notifies her that she is his choice by making a signal to her with his hand, when she takes her position in the dance. The eyes and the latent smile on the face of the "dark eyed señorita" shows she is enjoying herself. The men exhibit their pleasure in a more boisterous manner; that is, by occasionally whooping and cracking jokes. Gambling18 is carried on under the same roof; and in this both men and women join as long as their money lasts. Then they make room for others who are anxious to try their fortunes. This vice is truly of a national character, and so given to it are these people, that they will part with anything to support their appetite. To their credit it can be said, that the New Mexican women indulge but sparingly in alcoholic liquor; but the men are prone to the intoxicating cup. They often anticipate the evil effects of drink, and it is not unfrequent to see a New Mexican assuming the airs of a drunken man after two or three mouthfuls of "aqua-diente." The spirit of the ball is carried on well into the short hours of night, when all parties depart for their homes. Intoxication, that curse to all men, is playing havoc with this innocent amusement of the people, and causing these scenes to terminate in riot, and often bloodshed, especially when the jealousy of the white blood is raised at some imagined insult; and then, as is always the case, the two races come in fierce contact. It is hoped that by the aid of schools and education these things may be ameliorated, but they cannot be cured. The mischief is too deeply rooted.
We have thus endeavored to give the reader a view [pg 244] of the people among whom Kit Carson had determined to become a farmer. But he was not destined to finish and perfect his plans.
Near the conclusion of the second exploring expedition, and at the time when Kit Carson took his departure from the party, Col. Fremont had received a promise from him to the effect that he would join, as guide, any party of discovery, for the further exploration of the Rocky Mountains, which he, Col. Fremont, should command.
During the active duties of a farmer's life, and just as Kit Carson had brought his new enterprise into working order, an expressman from Col. Fremont arrived at his ranche, bearing dispatches to Carson. The purport of these dispatches was to remind Kit Carson of his promise, to inform him of the organization of a third expedition, and to appoint a place where Kit Carson might find his old commander.
The express found Carson in the midst of so many cares and anxieties concerning his new project, that it became a very difficult matter for him to keep his word. But the sacrifice of pecuniary interest was but a slight consideration with Kit, when weighed in the balance against his promise. He knew that his promise had not been either lightly given or received. Col. Fremont, by it, had the first right to his time and energies, and had formed his expectations accordingly; and Kit lost, therefore, no time in making preparations to satisfy these expectations by reporting himself at the appointed place of meeting, ready for the march.
But to effect this was attended with no slight difficulties. [pg 245] Kit Carson had a large sum invested in his improvements, by way of payments for labor, as well as purchases of stock, provision, farming tools, utensils, teams, wagons, seed, and stock in general. The erection of his house, barns, etc., was under an advance which reached far towards completion. But with Kit Carson, his word was worth more than prospective losses which its fulfillment would entail. In company with Mr. Owens, he set himself actively at work to effect a complete sell-out. After a good deal of anxious inquiry, he found a man who was willing to pay one half of the real valuation attached to his property. Notwithstanding this sacrifice, the bargain was closed and the business details completed. In company with Mr. Owens, Kit Carson once more bade his family and friends an affectionate farewell. They took the route for Bent's Fort, and arrived there in the course of a few days. The meeting between Fremont and Carson was mutually satisfactory. With his friend, Mr. Owens, he joined the Third expedition of Col. Fremont, which was the last one which he undertook by authority of the United States government.
A long tramp was before them. The arrangements preparatory were, therefore, made with corresponding care and diligence. The route led up the Arkansas River to the point where that stream leaves the mountains; thence they made a circuit by the Ballo Salado, or Soda Springs, coming back again upon the Arkansas, striking the stream above its great cañon. Thence they journeyed on to the head waters of the river. Here they left the Arkansas River and took a direct route for [pg 246] the Piney River, down which latter stream they traveled to a spot within twenty-five miles of its mouth. From this place they continued their explorations of the country to the head of White River. Following down it, they soon reached the mountains. Crossing them, they proceeded to Prevost's Fork.
At this spot a desperate fight once occurred between a party of trappers and a band of hostile Indians. The trappers were commanded by a man whose name has ever since been applied to the stream. Prevost, although he had a strong party and fought a most desperate battle, nevertheless was outnumbered, outgeneralled, and most completely overpowered. The Indians succeeded in killing the entire party, including himself, with but four exceptions. These four escaped only with the greatest difficulty and prudence. Through them the particulars of the affair became known to the mountaineers.
Col. Fremont (we should before this have mentioned that Fremont had been promoted in the corps of Topographical Engineers from the post of Lieutenant to the rank of Captain by brevet) now examined the country as far as the south side of the Great Salt Lake, passing on his route a smaller body of water, which, for many years, has been known as Little Utah Lake. The command halted at Great Salt Lake a few days to recruit, preparatory to undertaking the further exploration of the lake, together with one of its largest islands, which would be reached by this southern route. The Indians met with on the journey, informed them that on this island there was plenty of fresh water, and game in abundance. On arriving at a suitable place, Col. Fremont [pg 247] pitched his tents for the main camp. On the following morning, taking Kit Carson and a few chosen men, Col. Fremont started to explore the island. The reports of the Indians were proven to be true. In addition to plenty of fresh water and game, they discovered very good timber growing there. The game, which proved to be antelope, was so abundant that they decided to kill from the herds a quantity sufficient for future use. The island was about fifteen miles in length by about five in breadth. From the main land to the island they were able to ride their horses, as the water was not deep. Upon the banks of the lake they found the salt deposit to vary from the thickness of a wafer to the depth of twelve inches.
Having made their observations, the small party returned to the main camp. On the following day the journey was resumed, the route leading around the south side of the lake, until they reached the last fresh water to be found in that direction. Before them lay a wide and unknown desert, over which no white man had ever passed. Kit Carson had been at this spot several times in previous years, and had often heard the oldest trappers speak of the impossibility of crossing it for man or beast. They had always shrunk from a path apparently endless, which offered appearances of neither grass nor water. Colonel Fremont had determined to try the formidable desert, and, if possible, unfold its hidden secrets. His men were equally ambitious with himself, and were ready to second his efforts without fearing the trials or sufferings which the desert route might exact.
Colonel Fremont arranged all of his plans commensurate [pg 248] with the hardships in expectancy. Early the subsequent morning he dispatched Kit Carson, Maxwell and two others as an advance party to break the road and look for a camping site. With his telescope, he then ascended a neighboring mountain to watch the little party of pioneers. In the event that water and grass should be found, Kit Carson's orders were to build a fire, the smoke of which would serve as a signal to Fremont, who would immediately follow up their trail with the whole command.
For sixty miles, Kit Carson with his little party traveled over this level, barren and sandy desert, without coming to a drop of water or a blade of grass. At the end of this distance they reached the mountains, on the west side of the lake, and found both in abundance. The signal of smoke was now made, according to agreement. Even at this long distance Fremont discovered it, and immediately set his party in motion. Kit Carson sent back one of the men to meet the main body, and guide it across the dreary waste. Before the party had accomplished more than half the distance to Kit Carson's advance, night set in, forcing the whole band to encamp without water, grass, or fuel. The camp became more necessary because the darkness was so great that they could not follow the trail in a night march. Early the following day the march was resumed, and a few hours served once more to reunite the command. They had the misfortune, however, to lose a few of their animals. The place which Kit Carson had selected for the camp was, to the weary travelers, in every respect equal to an oasis on the Great Sahara. There is no one thing [pg 249] which a traveler on the plains dreads more than being forced to camp without water and grass.
At this resting-place Colonel Fremont, in order to accomplish as much as possible, divided his forces into two commands. One of them he gave into the charge of Mr. Talbot, his assistant, and appointed for his guide a mountaineer named Walker. To this party Colonel Fremont gave instructions to shape their course for Mary's River; on striking which, they were to follow down the stream to where it is lost in the Great Basin. Colonel Fremont retained with him fifteen men besides his guide. The route which he pursued lay in the country south of Mary's River forming a large tract of land, which it was very desirable that he should explore. After finishing this, he was to join Talbot on the lake which is formed by the widening of the Carson River. The country through which Colonel Fremont traveled, he found to be well furnished with grass, water and wood. It is highly picturesque; but, as its characteristics are so vividly painted in his reports, it is superfluous to add our attempt to the same task. Having arrived at the lake already mentioned, he there awaited the arrival of Talbot. It was three days before the command was again united. They, however, remained together only one night. Early the following morning they separated once more. This time, Talbot's instructions were, to find a certain pass which would bring him out in the vicinity of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, which he was to cross, and then keep on his course for the waters of the San Joaquin. Fremont, with his division, journeyed up the Carson River, and after traversing the [pg 250] Sierra Nevada Mountains, he arrived safe at Sutter's Fort, without meeting with any incidents that were not to be expected on such a trip. Captain Sutter, with his usual urbanity of manner, kindly received them, and supplied their wants. Of him, Fremont purchased forty head of cattle and a few horses, with which he set out to look for Mr. Talbot. In doing so, he traveled up the valley of the San Joaquin, and forded that river at about where it is ushered forth from the mountains. Mr. Talbot was not to be found in this direction, so the party went to Kings River, and journeyed up it to its head waters. It now happened that the cattle belonging to the party began to grow foot-sore and weary from travel over rocky trails and through deep snows. It became evident that the looked-for men were not in that quarter; therefore, Fremont returned to the prairies near by, in the hopes of saving his cattle; but, when he arrived there, he was destitute of these animals, for they had all given out and died. The party had, previous to this misfortune, killed some of the best of the oxen, and prepared the meat to carry along with them; but, in no great quantities, as their riding animals were not strong enough to bear heavy burdens. The command had hardly left the mountains and succeeded in reaching the prairies, before they were obliged to submit to further trials and losses. After going into camp one night, the men, tired and worn out by much labor, had lain down to rest. As a guard had been posted, they gave themselves but little concern about danger. Their sentinels were not on the look-out as sharply as they might have been. The consequence was, that some hostile Indians [pg 251] crept within their lines and killed two mules, which depredation was not discovered until the next morning.
Fremont had no animals remaining in condition to give chase, and therefore had quietly to submit to his loss. He now resolved to give up for the time being his search for Talbot's party and return to Sutter's Fort, where he could reorganize. While on their road to the Fort, the men came suddenly upon a band of the same Indians who had recently annoyed them. These fellows seemed to invite an engagement, and were gratified by Col. Fremont. In the skirmish that ensued, they lost five warriors killed. The rest fled. The party, after undergoing many hardships, finally reached their point of destination. During the latter part of this tramp, game had become so scarce that the men had to shoot whatever came in their way. This time it chanced to be wild horses. When they arrived at the Fort they were on foot, their saddle and pack animals having all given out and broken down. By the kind assistance of Mr. Sutter, they were furnished anew. After recruiting a little their own worn-out bodies, they started on their second trip in quest of their companions. They traversed the coast range and went to San José to see if they could hear anything through the Mexicans and Indians who resided there, concerning the whereabouts of the missing men; as perchance, some of the hunters or traders among these people might, in their travels, have met or heard something of them. On making inquiries at San José, they were informed that the party was encamped at a well known place on the San Joaquin. This piece of intelligence immediately decided Fremont to dispatch Carson [pg 252] and two companions to that section of country, while he and the remainder of the men would remain where they were and await his return. Kit Carson performed his mission with his usual promptness and soon returned with his charge, when the expedition was once more united under one leader. Owing to the great trials and privations recently met with, and the inability to procure at Sutter's Fort all that was wanted in the matter of an outfit, therefore it was determined upon that the party should proceed next to Monterey, where they knew they could purchase the articles that were actually required. While en route, and when within thirty miles of this last-named town, an impertinent order was received from Gen. Castro, the Mexican commander of the territory. The purport of this order was, that Fremont and his party must immediately vacate the country without further notice, or else the gallant general would be obliged to drive them out. It was late in the afternoon when the messenger with this document arrived in Fremont's camp; yet, he found time the same day to pack up and fall back to a place where he could fortify his position, as he felt confident that this was but an empty excuse which the Mexican general had invented to prevent him from penetrating further into the country. The Americans had hardly got things in proper trim before the Mexican general, at the head of several hundred troops, arrived and established his camp and head-quarters within sight of the former, being deluded with the belief that he would easily intimidate the exploring party. The general commenced firing his cannon and making a great uproar. He had all branches of the [pg 253] service with him, including artillery, infantry and cavalry. In the intention of intimidation, however, he was greatly mistaken, though the difference in numbers between the two parties was in itself almost decisive, should they come to a conflict. Yet the Mexicans had but poorly estimated the mettle contained in the American commander and his forty men. They were ready, one and all, to sell their lives dearly in a cause good as that before them. Unshaken in their purpose, the little band of intrepid men remained in their camp for the period of three days. The Americans who were then living at Monterey sent several expressmen to their countrymen, warning them of their danger, as they felt that the Mexicans could, without a doubt, completely annihilate them. Fremont's reply was perfectly characteristic of the man; he said he had done nothing to raise the wrath of the Mexicans, who were now treating him disgracefully. He had come to perform a duty, and could not leave without executing it. In fact, neither himself nor his men would submit to be driven out of the country. At the end of three days, Fremont saw that there was no prospect of Gen. Castro's consummating his threat; and, considering that he had sufficiently shown his willingness to fight if driven to it, he therefore concluded to strike his camp and withdraw to the Sacramento River. The party were not disturbed in their movements, and on reaching this stream they followed it up until they came to Peter Lawson's Trading Post, where Fremont intended, since he could not go to Monterey without being too rash, to purchase the outfit for the homeward-bound trip. The party remained at this post some ten days, during which [pg 254] time some American settlers in the neighborhood came in with the information that one thousand Indian warriors were collecting for the avowed purpose of destroying their ranches, probably at the instigation of the Mexicans. The exploring party, and also five white men from the Post, proffered their services to go to the aid of their countrymen, and shortly afterwards the whole command under Fremont moved forward to meet and measure their strength with the savages. The village of the Indians was in due time found, when the whites commenced the fight by making an attack on it. The battle was for a little while stoutly contested; but finally the red men were completely routed. The number of the killed it was difficult to ascertain; but Carson is of the opinion that this fight had the tendency of fixing on the minds of this tribe the truth of their inability to cope with white men, the convincing evidence of which was that the battle-ground was strewn with their dead. Having more than accomplished his chastisement of the Indians, Fremont with his party returned to Lawson's.
On finishing his purchases, at this post, whose occupants had done their utmost to supply his wants and make his stay agreeable, the explorer once more set his command in motion en route for the Columbia River. He traveled up the Sacramento and passed near the Shasta Buttes,19 and thence on to the Tlamath Lake. While encamped on the head of this collection of water, news came to the party that war had been declared between the United States and Mexico. This intelligence had been sent to Fremont through Lieutenant Gillespie, [pg 255] of the United States marines, who had with him six men as an escort. After traveling three hundred miles over bad trails at a rapid pace, his animals began to succumb to fatigue. The lieutenant saw he would fail to accomplish his ends with the whole party together, therefore he selected two of his most reliable men, mounted them on his fleetest horses, and sent them on ahead to bear the dispatches, while he himself would jog on slowly. The expressmen overhauled the exploring party after several days of hard travel and handed to Fremont the communications. As soon as he had read his letters, Fremont made inquiries in regard to Gillespie, and found that he was in rather a precarious position; for, should the Tlamath Indians take the notion, they would murder him and his men just by the way of pastime. Fremont at once determined to return with all haste and succor Gillespie from the imminent peril that surrounded him. With this purpose in view, he selected ten picked men, leaving orders for the rest of the party to follow on his trail, and set out. He had traveled about sixty miles when he met the officer he was in search of coming on. The meeting was very gratifying to both, but especially so to Fremont, who was fully alive to the dangers through which Gillespie had passed; for, the lieutenant was not sufficiently aware how black-hearted in their villainy and treachery this tribe, through whose country he was passing, were, as he had heretofore never dealt with them. A camp was selected near by, and all hands were not long in being snugly seated in it around a good fire, listening to the important news fresh from the civilized world.
Fremont sat up until about one o'clock reading his letters from the United States. Kit Carson and Owens, wrapped in their saddle blankets, had picked out their beds near the fire, as the night was cold. On concluding the reading of his correspondence, Fremont turned in and was soon sound asleep. All was quiet for awhile, when Kit Carson heard a noise that awaked him; the sound was like the stroke of an axe. Rising to his feet, he discovered Indians in the camp. While in the act of reaching for his rifle, he gave the alarm, to his slumbering companions; but, two of them were already sleeping their last sleep, for the fatal tomahawk had been buried in their brains. One of these victims was the brave Lajeunesse, while the other was a full-blooded Delaware Indian. As Kit Carson left the fire, where he was too conspicuous an object, he saw several warriors approaching towards it. There lay near to it four other Delawares, who, on hearing the alarm, sprang to their feet. One of them by the name of Crane, seized hold of a rifle which, unfortunately, was not his own, and was not loaded. The poor fellow was not aware of this important fact. He kept trying to fire it while he stood erect, and manfully received five arrows, all of which penetrated his left breast, and either one of which was sufficient to cause his death. At last, he fell. On grasping his gun, Kit Carson remembered that the evening before, he had discharged it for the purpose of cleaning it, and while doing so had accidentally broken its cap tube, and consequently he had not reloaded it. As this flashed across his mind, he threw the rifle down and drew from his belt a single-barrelled pistol, with which he made at [pg 257] the warrior who was so safely throwing his arrows into his companion. When sufficiently near, Kit Carson fired, but as the fellow kept dodging about, he only succeeded in cutting the string that held the tomahawk to its red owner's arm. Maxwell now shot at this same brave and hit him in the fleshy part of one leg; and, as he was turning to run, which was the case with most of the Indians by this time, a bullet from the rifle of a mountaineer passed through his heart and arrested his progress. The whites were now fully awakened to their danger, and about ready to commence the fight; but the enemy had scattered. If all the savages had shown the same quickness and coolness as did their foremost warrior, the probability is that the most, if not the whole of the party would have been massacred. As it was, the attack was well planned, but poorly carried out.
The result of the affair was, that Fremont lost three brave men, and had one other wounded slightly. It now became evident that the party had fallen into a snare which was intended for Lieutenant Gillespie and his small force, but the coming up of Fremont had caused the assassins to find they had caught a Tartar.
Fremont and his party apprehended no danger that night; consequently, they did not post a guard, and as the men were very tired they slept very soundly. Before lying down, several of them had fired off their rifles, and, after cleaning them, they had neglected to reload them. This was the first and last time they were guilty of such a mistake while in an Indian country.
Of the three men killed, the one by the name of Lajeunesse [pg 258] was the most regretted, for he had been with Fremont on his previous expeditions, and had won the admiration and confidence of his commander and companions. In a small company of men, such as these expeditions were composed of, where every member becomes intimately known and admired by his companions, the loss of one would be greatly felt; but, when three such were thus suddenly taken, it caused a gloom to be cast over the remainder, not easily to be dispelled. The only consolation left to the living was, that they had been instrumental in saving Lieutenant Gillespie and his four companions; therefore, in sacrificing their comrades, they had saved more lives than had been lost.
There were no more thoughts of sleep in this camp for that eventful night; but instead, the men selected positions behind neighboring trees and fallen logs, and were ready to receive the enemy should they see fit to visit them again.
The Indians, however, as Kit Carson predicted, had come to the wise conclusion not to attempt so unsatisfactory a business as another attack, for the grey light of the following day came without their reappearance. Before the sun had fairly risen, Fremont had broken up this camp, which had become odious to the men from its unpleasant associations. With their packs, and with the bodies of their dead companions, the party started to find their rear guard. They had proceeded about ten miles on their journey, when, by unanimous consent, they resolved to halt and inter the remains, which they had wished to carry until they united their forces, so that all could participate in the funeral rites; but, the woods [pg 259] through which they were traveling were very thick, and already the bodies had become greatly disfigured, on account of their frequently striking against the trees, as they were fastened on the backs of three animals.
Slowly and sadly, in that dense forest, hundreds of miles from their nearest countrymen, was this funeral procession formed. A spot was selected on one side of the main trail, at a distance of about one half mile, where a rude grave was dug, and, wrapped in their blankets, in the same common house, were deposited all that remained of these three brave men. An observer of these obsequies, would have seen the lips of daring men, now and then, giving spasmodic twitchings; eyes swimming in tears, and a silence and solemnity that bespoke the truest kind of grief. Among that party, such a one would have been sure to have marked out the countenance of Kit Carson; for, engraven on it were the throes which were troubling his kind heart on being thus obliged to separate from old friends. Not a man left that grave, but who resolved, secretly and silently, to make these dastardly Indians suffer for the lives they had thus wantonly taken. In fact, they felt it an imperative duty they yet owed to their departed comrades; who, if they but stood in their places, would have sworn to be avenged; hence, the reader must not judge them harshly if they nourished these feelings.
That very day the two parties met and went into camp together. Plans were concocted to chastise the red men soundly. The next day, on quitting this last resting-place, a squad of fifteen men was left concealed in the neighborhood, in order to watch and act against any Indians [pg 260] who, by chance, might be following them from one camp to another, in hopes of finding something. The main command then moved on slowly, and had advanced but a few miles when they were overtaken by their friends, who came up with two scalps. These were the sum total of their morning's work. The two warriors to whom they had belonged were caught following the trail as scouts of their main body. The unerring rifles of the party in ambush had performed their fearful duty.
[pg 261]Fremont en route for California—His men are anxious to punish the Tlamath Indians—Kit Carson, in command of ten Men, is sent on ahead to reconnoitre—He discovers the main Village of these Indians—The Attack and the Victory—Beautiful Lodges—The Trophies mostly destroyed—Fremont saves Kit Carson's Life—The Journey resumed—The Sacramento Valley—An Indian Ambuscade—One Savage defies the Party—Kit Carson shoots him—The Tlamath Indians still on the War Path—Another Lesson given to them—A Thief is shot—Arrival at Lawson's Trading Post—A period of Inactivity—A Detachment sent to capture Sonoma—Prisoners taken—The Mexicans come to punish the Americans—Their Courage deserts them—The Retreat—The Pursuit—Fremont goes to Sutter's Fort and establishes a Military Post—Monterey is taken by the American Squadron—Fremont marches there—Further Operations—The taking of Los Angelos.
The news of war having been declared between the United States and Mexico, determined Fremont to return to California; and, in doing so, he decided to enter that country by a new route of his own selection.
He commenced his journey by traveling around Lake Tlamath, and had not proceeded far in that direction, before he found himself encamped on a small stream which empties into the lake, nearly opposite to the place where his three men were killed. The distance of each day's progress had been carefully reckoned and noted by the party. Upon their minds there was still resting a sadness, which, their leader saw, was only to be effaced by a satisfactory revenge, and that they were eager to obtain it before quitting the country. Perhaps, also, their commanding officer thought it best, while the opportunity [pg 262] offered, for the benefit of his countrymen, whom he felt sure would some day possess this territory, to impress these savages with the power and bravery of the white men. Whatever was the object to be gained, it matters not in relating the particulars. The next morning he sent Kit Carson on ahead, with ten chosen men, giving him orders to the effect that if he discovered a large village of Indians, which was the general surmise, without being himself seen, he was to send back word; when he (Fremont) would hasten on with reinforcements, in order to make the assault. If it should happen that the Indians were the first to be apprised of his near approach, then, without delay, Carson was to engage them as he thought best. Acting under these instructions, Kit Carson, with his detail of men, set out, and fortunately soon found a fresh trail that led directly to where the savages had established their village. This Indian village numbered fifty lodges; and, to each wigwam, the mountaineers estimated three braves, as this is the complement of men who live in one of these huts on the prairies and in the Rocky Mountains; thus making the force of the Indians to be in the neighborhood of one hundred and fifty. From the commotion noticed in the village, it was evident to all present that the tribe had become aware of danger, and that there was no time to be lost in sending back the desired information. Kit Carson, notwithstanding the strength of his enemies, determined to hazard an attack; and, after a brief consultation with his companions, he decided to take advantage of the confusion that was existing among the red men by charging right in among them. If ever there is a time when Indians [pg 263] will stand their ground, it is when defending their families; therefore, on this occasion, the white men were warmly received; but, they fought with such a degree of desperation, as they themselves had never done before. The result was, that the savages became panic stricken, and soon afterwards fled, leaving everything they possessed behind them. The victors, after pursuing the Indians for some distance, and adding a few more to the list of killed, returned to the village, which they found to be rich in booty. The lodges here taken, Kit Carson describes as being the most tasty pieces of handiwork that Indian skill could devise, and surpassed anything of the kind that he had previously looked upon. They were made of the broad leaves of the swamp flag, which were beautifully and intricately woven together. Within the wigwams, the party found a very large amount of fish in different stages of preservation for future use. Wishing to do these people as much harm as possible, and thus be even with them for their recent savage cruelties on their own party, Kit Carson gave the order to collect everything in the lodges and arrange the articles in such manner that fire would either destroy, or completely damage them. Having accomplished this work, the lighted tinder was applied, when the flames leaped high up in the air, forming a fit funeral pyre for their slain companions. Fremont saw the reflection of the fire, and also the smoke, and at once knew that Kit Carson was engaged with the Indians; consequently, he pushed on at a very rapid pace to assist him. He arrived too late for what the men called the sport; but instead, heard the report of his lieutenant and guide, Kit Carson, [pg 264] whose words, to use his (Fremont's) own language, "are synonymous with truth." The gloom which had prevailed over the party, while the men recounted to their friends the details of the fight was temporarily dispelled; and, while thus engaged, the command moved on about two miles from the Indian village. Having here selected a site, they went into camp. After comfortably stowing themselves away in this resting-place, another "war talk" was called, and what was best to be done was canvassed over. After the adjournment of the council, Fremont decided to send back twenty men, under Richard Owens, to the neighborhood of the ruins of the village, there to conceal themselves and await the return of the Indians; who, it was thought, might come back to look after their dead. He did so; and Owens had not been secreted a great while before about fifty savages returned, and, by the moon's light, were quite visible. As had been previously agreed upon, word was sent by a trusty messenger to Fremont, who, with six companions, Kit Carson being of the number, hastened on horseback to join his outpost. For fear of being discovered, Fremont chose a different route from the one taken by Owens, which was quite direct, while that of the former was circuitous. On approaching the smouldering remains of the village, Kit Carson discovered only one Indian wandering about on the ground. As soon almost as he was seen by the party, they made a dash at him. Kit Carson was in the advance, and on arriving within about ten feet of the warrior, he drew up his horse and brought his rifle to his shoulder to fire, but the gun only snapped, and left its owner in a very precarious situation, as the red man [pg 265] had already drawn the string of his bow to plant an arrow in the body of his adversary. A moment more and, in all probability, Kit Carson would have been breathing his last. Fremont saw the danger his friend was in, although Kit had tried to avoid the arrow by throwing himself on one side of his horse. With much forethought, as well as personal exposure, he plunged the rowels of his spurs deep into his riding animal. The noble horse, obeying the impetus thus given by his rider, made a few extra strides, until he reached, knocked down and passed over the Indian, thereby causing his arrow to fly in a different direction from the one intended. Before the savage could regain his feet, a ball from one of the rifles belonging to the party had sent him to his last resting-place. Fremont now learned from Owens, that while the messenger was absent, the rest of the Indians had decamped, and as he had received orders from him to await his coming in case he found the enemy, therefore, he was obliged to let the rascals quietly depart without firing into them, which was much to his own and his men's displeasure.
A moment more and in all probability Kit Carson would have been breathing his last. Fremont saw the danger his friend was in, although Kit had tried to avoid the arrow by throwing himself on one side of his horse.—Page 265.
It was now necessary to return without delay to their own camp, and thus anticipate the movements of the Indians, as they might conclude to make an attack in that quarter; but, on arriving there, they found everything safe; nor were they, during that night, in any way disturbed. Kit Carson was, and is still, very grateful to Fremont for thus interposing between him and almost certain death; for it would have been the work of an instant for the Indian warrior, at ten feet distance, to have sent an arrow into some vital organ. It was [pg 266] such noble generosity, bravery, and disinterested exposure in the hour of peril, in order to serve his men, that strongly cemented Fremont to them. Indeed, in all of his expeditions, he had such command over his employees, that little or no trouble ever occurred among them while on their marches, although they had privations and dangers to undergo that would often try men of the most even temper.
On the day following the one on which his party had encountered and chastised the Tlamath Indians, Fremont started for the Valley of the Sacramento. The expedition was progressing well, and was four days out from this last camp; when, as two of the men, whose names were Maxwell and Archambeau, were out hunting at a distance of about three miles on one side of their friends, they were surprised at seeing one Indian, on foot, approaching towards them.
The hunters, in order to do away with all suspicion, at once halted and laid down their arms, to show the warrior that they were friendly disposed. They thought it was best to have a "talk" with him, and question him in regard to the country they were then in. As he showed no symptoms of fear, but kept coming on, they supposed that he had understood their actions; therefore, they paid but little attention to him, until they saw him stop. Their curiosity was now excited to know his intentions; and, as they watched his movements, they saw him take some young crows from his quiver, and, after untying the string that held them, he concealed them to his satisfaction in the grass, and again moved forward; but, while doing so, he was busy [pg 267] arranging his weapons for immediate use. The white men were not astonished at this, for they concluded that he was only preparing himself against danger. The Indian slowly advanced to a spot that was within fifteen yards of the hunters, when he again stopped, and commenced shooting his arrows at them. At first they dodged about, and made signs for him to desist, as they were friends; but, to their admonitions he paid not the least attention. Several of the missiles had come near causing them bodily injury. After a time, forbearance ceased to be a virtue. Raising his rifle, one of the men fired; when, to use mountaineer parlance, the Indian "went under."
What could have been the foolhardy ideas of this warrior that compelled him to take such a course as he did, not one of the party, when they were informed of the adventure, could conjecture; but, a fact it is, that he lost his life and his scalp by his indiscretion. In due time the command reached the Sacramento River, and were proceeding on the trail down that stream, when they came to a point, not far from a deep cañon, the sides of which were almost perpendicular and composed of cragged rocks. Fremont decided not to pass through this deep gorge, but instead, to travel around it; and he did so by crossing the river. It proved afterwards to be a very fortunate change; for, their old enemies, the Tlamath Indians, had concealed themselves there, thinking, as a matter of course, that the white men would keep the trail. Seeing that the white men were not coming into the ambuscade laid for them, the Indians became so disappointed that they boldly ventured forth [pg 268] from their hiding-places. A few, more daring than the rest, advanced into open ground, when Carson, Godey, and another member of the party, made a dash at them. They all ran except one warrior, and as the charging party were mounted on mules, they made but poor progress in overtaking them. The one Indian who, apparently, had resolved to make war on his own account, concealed himself behind a rock, strung his bow, putting several arrows in his mouth, and thus awaited the advance of his foes. Kit Carson and Godey soon came within shooting distance, when he began to let fly his arrows, and kept it up so briskly, that the men dodged about, without being able to do anything else for some moments. At last, wearying of this dangerous sport, Kit Carson dismounted, and crept around until he obtained a good sight at the Indian; when, he drew up his rifle, fired, and sent a bullet through his heart. From this dead brave, Kit Carson took a beautifully wrought bow and quiver, which still contained a large number of arrows, and which he presented, on rejoining the party, to Lieutenant Gillespie. It is a pity that such a brave man as this savage was, should have met with such an inglorious death; but, it was his own seeking, for he had attacked the wrong persons. Another twenty-four hours now passed by without any further annoyance from the Indians; who, notwithstanding the late forcible instruction they had received, still continued to hover around, and follow after the exploring party. On encamping the next evening, after Kit Carson had killed the Indian, as above described, the party found themselves entirely destitute of anything to [pg 269] eat, although they were very hungry. Game had, all at once, become very scarce, as the hunters whose turn it was to be out that day, had returned unsuccessful. Two more men were then sent out, in hopes that by perseverance they might find something. They had not proceeded far before they discovered an Indian watching their camp, as if awaiting a favorable opportunity to make a descent on the animals. Step (one of these hunters) crept unperceived by the red man until he was within range of his rifle, when he fired, and killed the would-be thief. No other game could be found, so the hunters returned, and the whole party retired to rest supperless, and arose the next morning to fast again. That day, however, they found and killed some game, and for the time being, their appetites were once more appeased. Fremont was now on his way to Peter Lawson's Fort, where he arrived safely, after several days of hard traveling. At this place the party rested for about one week; but the desire to have an active share in the approaching hostilities, caused Fremont to delay no longer than was absolutely necessary; hence, he started and went to a point lower down on the Sacramento, known to the mountaineers under the name of the Buttes. Here, a camp was made, and here Fremont had decided to wait positive orders concerning the war; and, until these instructions should arrive, he employed his men in hunting. After several days spent in this way, he began to weary of inactivity. He thought that, in all probability, war had commenced; and, finally, he decided to take the responsibility of sending a part of his force to surprise Sonoma—a Mexican military post that had but [pg 270] a weak garrison. This the party accomplished to the entire satisfaction of their commander. They captured and made prisoners of war at this fort, one general and two captains, besides taking several cannon and quite a quantity of small arms. It was about this time that news reached Fremont which convinced him that hostilities had already commenced, and that both countries were taking active measures to carry the war on with vigor. He set out immediately, on the receipt of this information, and joined his detail of men at Sonoma. During his stay at this fort, General Castro sent one of his captains, with a large force of Mexicans, from San Francisco, with orders to drive the Americans out of the country. This command came, and accidentally fell upon and butchered two men whom Fremont had sent out as messengers to inform all American settlers that Sonoma had been taken by him, and that thither they could fly for safety. The gallant Mexican captain, on seeing and hearing that Fremont's forces were anxious to meet him, becoming disheartened, began to retreat, and was pursued by the exploring party. For six days they thus followed the retreating enemy, whose courage had evidently deserted them though they had triple the force of their pursuers. So hot was the chase, that the Mexicans deserted many of their animals, which, as a matter of course, fell into the hands of the Americans. Fremont, on finding that he could not overtake the enemy, returned to Sonoma. The captain, with his Mexican command, as was afterwards learned, did not remain at San Francisco. No doubt he did not like to trust himself within reach of Fremont, for he continued his march [pg 271] until he reached the Pueblo of Los Angelos, where he was rejoined by General Castro, who reorganized the forces and assumed the command himself. The exploring party had now become a military expedition, and around this nucleus the Americans, then in California, flocked to pour out their vengeance against their country's foes. Having quite a little army at his disposal, Fremont left a strong detachment at Sonoma, and departed with the rest of his command for Sutter's Fort. On arriving there, he placed the fort under military rule, and left his prisoners, General Vallejos and the two captains, who had been captured at Sonoma. Also an American by the name of Lace, who was a brother-in-law to General Vallejos, and whose predilections appeared to lean in favor of the Mexican side. With all his mountain men, including Kit Carson, Fremont then took up his line of march towards Monterey, for the purpose of attacking and taking possession of the town; but, this movement had been anticipated by Commodore Sloat and the American squadron. Soon after Fremont's arrival at Monterey (where he was very kindly received by the commodore and his officers), Commodore Sloat left the country, and the command devolved upon Commodore Stockton.
A consultation having been held among the officers, it was the prevailing opinion that it would be impossible to overtake and engage the Mexicans by following them up on land; therefore Fremont asked for a ship to take his force to San Diego, where he could obtain animals and march on to Los Angelos. The United States vessel Cyane, under the command of Capt. Dupont, was furnished [pg 272] him for this undertaking by Commodore Stockton. In four days time the party arrived at San Diego, where they landed. They there parted with the ship and the gallant captain, with many pleasant reminiscences of their short voyage. At San Diego, Fremont found himself at the head of about one hundred and fifty men, which was not a very strong force to be in an enemy's country with, especially so far from their homes as they were. However, nearly every man was a veteran in war, and the whole body felt themselves invincible, which was a source of great consolation to their leader. From San Diego, parties of the command were sent to scour the neighboring country, in order to bring in a sufficient number of horses to mount the men. This being accomplished, Fremont set out for Los Angelos, where the Governor and Gen. Castro had a force of seven hundred men at their disposal. These officials, with their soldiers, on learning the near approach of the Americans, broke up and fled, most of them taking the road to Sonora, while the balance scattered, not apparently caring where they went, as long as they did not come in contact with the Americans. Fremont marched within about one league of the town, and encamped to await, as had been previously agreed upon, the arrival of Commodore Stockton, who soon joined him at this place with a party of sailors and marines, "As fine a body of men," says Kit Carson, "as ever I looked upon."
When the two commands had been consolidated, they marched direct for Los Angelos, which they easily captured, as its would-be defenders had some days before [pg 273] deserted it. In this town the command was quartered for some time; but, as it is our intention to follow the career of Kit Carson, who, shortly after their arrival, had been detailed for important duty, which placed him in new scenes; hence, we are necessitated to take leave of affairs as they transpired there, and hereafter revert to them casually as they connect with our narrative.
[pg 274]Kit Carson is sent Overland as Bearer of Dispatches to Washington—The Preparation and the Start—The Journey—Privations and Sufferings—Meeting with General Kearney—The General takes Carson as his Guide and sends on the Dispatches by Fitzpatrick—The March—Arrival at Warner's Ranche—Mexicans on the Road—Preparations for a Battle—The Battle—Disastrous Consequences—Kit Carson and Lieutenant Beale offer to run the lines of the Mexican Sentinels and carry Information to San Diego of Kearney's critical position—The Daring Undertaking—The Sufferings they encountered—Their Arrival—Reinforcements sent out—Lieutenant Beale is Delirious from the Privations he has undergone—Gen. Kearney and his Command finally reach and join the other American Forces in California.
On the 15th day of September, 1846, Kit Carson was placed in the command of fifteen men, with orders to make an overland journey to Washington, as bearer of very important dispatches.
At the time of which we write, there was no steam communication, as now, viâ the two great oceans, consequently, the intercourse between our brave countrymen in California and the government at Washington was attended with extreme difficulty. Fortunately, Fremont had in Kit Carson just the man to make such a journey through an enemy's country.
Kit Carson was instructed to use his utmost endeavors to make the journey in sixty days, which was no small undertaking, when we consider the great distance to be traveled over and the obstacles that lay in his path; he [pg 275] undertook it, however, with a determination not to be easily frustrated.
By judicious management and watchfulness, Kit was making good progress, and had reached a point within two days' travel of the Copper Mines in New Mexico without being in any way annoyed. Here he came into full view of a village of Apache Indians, who were then, as they nearly ever since have been, at war with the Americans. He had been discovered by these Indians, and there was but one true way to act, which was not to show the white feather by attempting to evade them. Fremont's dispatch bearer had not the least idea of that; he was too well schooled in Indian stratagem to be out-manœuvered, so he rode on as if nothing had happened until he came to some timber that lay within one hundred yards of their village, when he halted. At first the Indians were disconcerted at the boldness of the whites, and were showing it by hurrying to and fro, either for the purpose of leaving or to be better prepared to offer fight. On arriving near enough so to do, Kit Carson called to the savages and informed them that his party were friends and wished a parley. To this an assent was given, when Kit made them understand that he and his men were simply travelers, en route for New Mexico; that they carried the olive branch of peace with them, and had come among them bearing it, in the hopes of being able to exchange their fatigued animals for others that were fresh. With this the Indians were satisfied; therefore, Carson chose a camping-ground for himself and men, and selected the site so that they could best contend against the treachery of the red men, should [pg 276] they attempt any. When the camp was arranged, the Indians were allowed to come in; and, soon after, the trading commenced, which proved to be very successful, for the men obtained very good riding animals in place of their old ones. Their intercourse with this band of Apaches closed early the next day, when both parties bid each other good bye on the most friendly terms.
A few days more of travel brought Kit Carson and his men to the first Mexican settlement which then stood in their road. Their arrival in the town happened very opportunely, having for the past few days been suffering severely from hunger. They had started from California with but a small stock of dried meat and corn, not being able conveniently to carry more without impeding their progress; therefore, they were left to depend on their rifles. Game they found to be scarce; and, in a short time, their meat was expended. Being reduced to the corn, they were, as a matter of necessity, very sparing of it. The maize was parched, and for several days they derived their entire subsistence from it; though, on account of the short allowance, they but poorly satiated their appetites. About the time succor appeared to them in the shape of this Mexican town, even the maize was nearly used up. They were delighted to reach a place where they would be able to replenish their provisions. It was well known to their commander that, as a dernier resort, he could kill and live upon his riding animals, but in so doing, he would cripple his means so much, that the business he was on might prove a failure. While so much depended on it, he felt that he ought not to leave any other means untried before resorting to [pg 277] such a procedure. It was true, the Mexicans at that time were at war; but, there were scattered over New Mexico, in almost every town, former friends of Kit Carson, who would, he felt confident, serve him in the hour of trial. At the first ranche they came to, they halted and made a rest of two or three days, while Kit employed himself in purchasing supplies, in which he succeeded beyond even his expectations.
It was while obeying instructions, in traveling as fast as possible, that one day, the sixth of October, 1846, the party discerned something which, at first, looked like a mere speck moving on the prairies. Watching it with intense anxiety, the little speck increased in size until they saw it emerge, as it were, from the apparent junction of the heavens with the earth, and form a visible line; as the front of this column came nearer to view, they discovered that it was a strong detachment of United States troops. The truth was now evident to them all that this was an expedition sent out by government to operate in California. Spurring on their animals, Kit and his men soon met the advance guard of the soldiers and learned that their commander was Gen. Kearney, who was further back in the lines. On coming to the general, Kit Carson reported himself, informed him of the business he was on, and also furnished him with all the intelligence in his power in reference to the disposal of the American forces in California, besides detailing to him what had already been accomplished in that quarter.
After due deliberation, Gen. Kearney determined to send Mr. Fitzpatrick on to Washington with the dispatches [pg 278] and to order Kit Carson to join him as guide. In fulfilling this duty, he well knew that Kit would be invaluable to him. Acting on this decision, he sent for Kit Carson and informed him of what he wished him to do. Kit Carson replied, "As the general thinks best." The fact was, that Kit well knew he could be of great service to the command, and he was too honest not to confess it, though he was now nearly in reach of his happy home and its loved inmates, from whom he had been so long separated and whom he fondly wished to see. In facing about, Kit took upon his shoulders the prospect of encountering fearful dangers; but, he undertook his new duties without allowing a murmur to escape his lips, and without even asking additional pay; though, had he but mentioned it, the general could not have well refused the demand. A noble motive engrossed Kit Carson's mind. He has ever labored to win and wear the confidence and respect of his countrymen, being ambitious to leave a name behind him that shall be an honor to his friends and family.
On the eighteenth day of October, 1846, General Kearney and his command left the Rio Del Norte, in New Mexico. The services of Kit Carson in directing the route, proved the wisdom of General Kearney in making the change in the bearers of dispatches. So true was Kit Carson's guidance, that the command traveled with so much dispatch as to reach Warner's Ranche, in California, on the third day of December following. From this place it took up a line of march for San Diego.
While on their march, news was brought in by their spies that a strong command of Mexican Californians had [pg 279] taken up a position on their route, evidently awaiting their advance with the view of attacking them. This occurred on the sixth day of the same month. General Kearney made no change in his route, but advanced to within fifteen miles of the enemy's encampment. Here he commanded a halt. A reconnoitering party, consisting of fifteen dragoons, commanded by Lieutenant Hammond, was sent on in advance to note the position and force of the enemy. He proceeded upon the duty, but was discovered by the Mexicans. Nevertheless, he fortunately succeeded in making his observations previous to being seen. His report to General Kearney, among other facts, stated that these Mexican soldiers had strongly established themselves in an Indian village.
General Kearney determined, without delay to attack them. Orders were given to resume the march; and, by one o'clock the next morning the American soldiers had fastened all their packs on their mules, and were themselves mounted and ready for the command to move. The order came without delay, and the little army was immediately in motion. Fourteen miles of the space which separated the two parties were passed without interruption. When within one mile of the Mexican position, the advance guard of the Americans suddenly came upon a small advance guard of the Mexicans, who were evidently posted to watch their approach and guard the road. As soon as they were discovered, the trumpets of the dragoons sounded, in quick succession, the orders to trot, and to gallop. The Americans were so prompt in making their charge that they came upon the Mexicans, when a sharp skirmish ensued, in which several of the [pg 280] enemy were killed. The remainder of the outpost were driven in, bearing the news of the attack to their friends. Captain Johnson, Kit Carson and fifteen American soldiers formed the attacking party in this affair. They had been ordered to secure the loose animals belonging to the enemy. In this they failed, the animals being too strongly guarded, and because, upon the first alarm, they were driven out of harm's way.
This attack, however, proved to be the commencement of a serious fight. Seeing that his orders could not be obeyed in regard to the animals of the enemy, Captain Johnson and his party joined a party under Captain Moore. The force of the latter consisted of twenty-five American volunteers from California, who had attached themselves to General Kearney's command since its arrival in the country. Moore's command also comprised parts of two companies of United States dragoons. Captain Moore had been ordered to make an attack on the centre of the enemy, in order to cut their forces in two, and thereby cause confusion in their ranks. As has been stated, Captain Johnson, with his little force, joined Captain Moore in making this attack. While the charge was in progress, and when within one hundred yards of the Mexican camp, Kit Carson's horse, occupying a leading position in the column of attack, accidentally fell, and threw his rider with such force as to break the wood part, or stock, of his rifle into several pieces, rendering it useless. His position, for a short time, was precarious. Being foremost in the charge when the accident happened, the whole troop of horse came galloping over him as he lay upon the ground. His escape was almost [pg 281] a miracle. When the last horseman had passed, Kit arose, and was quite happy to find that he had received only slight contusions, which did not in the least impair his movements or strength of body. Casting a hasty glance over the field, he discovered a dead dragoon, not far distant from the spot where he himself had fallen. Instantly running up to the poor fellow, he relieved him of his gun and cartridge-box. Being once more armed, he rushed forward at the top of his speed and plunged into the thickest of the fight, which was then severely contested. Captain Johnson and several of the more advanced soldiers had been killed by the bullets of the enemy, almost at the same instant that Kit Carson's horse had fallen. It is not at all unlikely, therefore, that the accidental falling of his horse had been the means of saving Kit Carson's life. After a desperate and deadly conflict, Moore and his men dislodged the enemy, causing them to retreat. They were followed by the Americans, but, unfortunately for their complete success, the large majority of the latter were mounted on mules. These, when the firing commenced, became almost unmanageable. But forty of the entire command of General Kearney were mounted on horses, and these were none the best for cavalry purposes, having been but recently broken to the saddle. They had been captured since the arrival of the American forces in the country, from a party of Mexicans, who were en route to Sonora, by Lieutenant Davidson and twenty-five dragoons, assisted by Kit Carson. By the uncontrollable actions of the stubborn mules, Moore's men became greatly separated and could not act in concert. This rendered the pursuit, [pg 282] so far as the enemy was concerned, nearly harmless.
The Mexicans, quickly perceiving the condition of their assailants, and comprehending the chances, which the apparent difficulty gave them, at once rallied and turned on their pursuers. The fight was renewed with most determined courage. The Mexicans fought with a bravery and success which turned the hitherto, comparatively speaking, bloodless victory of the Americans, into a terrible slaughter. Every moment saw some brave dragoon yield up his life to the deadly bullets or blows of the exasperated Mexicans. Out of the forty dragoons who were mounted on horses, thirty-six were either killed or severely wounded. Among the names to be added to the sad list already killed, was Captain Moore, "as brave a man," says Kit Carson, "as ever drew breath in any service." As fast as the scattered American soldiers could reach the scene of carnage, they joined in the battle; but, the Mexicans, elated by their success, fought like demons, and seemed to sweep everything before them.
General Kearney, seeing his officers thus shot down, drawing his sword, placed himself at the head of his remaining forces; and, though severely wounded, he made a desperate attempt to cause the enemy, once more, to retreat. At this crisis of affairs, Lieutenant Davidson arrived on the ground with two mountain howitzers. Before he could get his guns unlimbered and ready to commence firing, nearly every man he had to work them was shot down, being either killed or badly wounded. Following up their success, the Mexicans charged right [pg 283] up to the guns, and, with the lasso, unerring in their hands, captured the horses attached to, and, on the instant, made off with one of the guns. On reaching a distance of three hundred yards, they halted and prepared to turn the fire of the howitzer upon the Americans. From some unaccountable reason, it would not go off. Lieutenant Davidson did his utmost to prevent the loss of this gun, and after several narrow escapes from dangerous lance wounds, as his clothing and saddle sufficiently attested, he was finally stricken down, and nearly gave his life a sacrifice to his heroism.
After being thus badly cut up, and with not more than one or two officers left who had not been either killed or wounded, while the men had been handled with equal severity, the Americans were obliged to take refuge at a point of rocks which chanced to be near where their advance had been defeated. A rally was made at this place. The Mexicans, however, did not venture to attack them. Both sides were apparently weary of fighting for that day. The firing ceased, and soon after, night closed over the scene of the battle field.
These California Mexicans, previous to the war with the United States, were considered by the mountaineers as the bravest Spanish blood in the Mexican provinces. During the war, they proved that they had not been over-estimated, as they met their foes, at the commencement of hostilities, with a determination to win, or sell their lives dearly. The reason of this difference of courage in their favor over their countrymen who inhabited the internal States, is supposed to be owing to [pg 284] their opportunities for intercourse with the bold mariners from different countries who visited them in ships for the purpose of trade. This commerce consisted in the transporting into the country of such articles as arms, ammunition, groceries, and dry goods, for which were bartered, hides, tallow, and furs. The currency of California at that time was hides, which were estimated as so many dollars. The raising of cattle and horses was the leading employment of the people, and occupied most of their time. On the discovery of gold, these affairs underwent a change, and the rapid strides of civilization has left this people far in the minority. The horses of California were celebrated as being larger than the ponies of New Mexico, and also for being much fleeter of foot. The California rider, at that time, was looked upon as being unrivaled by those who had witnessed his performances. However, the intercourse between the two countries was very limited among the Mexicans, and it was difficult to find a New Mexican who had seen the Pacific. Their dialects were also slightly different, as much so as happens in the dependencies of any other country. It was fear of the Indians that put a damper on the travel between these adjoining districts. The society of the man who had had the boldness to make a journey to California from New Mexico was courted, he being considered a renowned traveler. His amusing stories of large ships and the men who managed them, and also, of the great expanse of the ocean, amazed his auditors and made them deeply interested in his conversation and information. It has become a strange sight to look upon whole communities of men, [pg 285] who have only heard of steamboats, telegraphs, railroads and other great improvements and inventions of the age, yet there are thousands of men living in the great interior of the North American continent who have only vague ideas of these things; and many there are, who cannot realize them, but believe that they are fabulous stories, and will meet the narrator of them with equal wonders, which they manufacture to suit the occasion. To give a specimen: we remember one night to have tried to explain these advancements to an old Mexican of some eighty winters, while we were the guest of his house. He listened attentively, but evidently could comprehend but little that we said. We changed the subject, and began to describe to him the great beasts of the forest, such as the lion, the tiger, and the elephant, and soon found that we had struck the theme which pleased him. In reply, he told us that in his younger days he himself was a famous hunter; and that, on one occasion, while on the chase, he met Adam, who, he informed us, was the greatest hunter of his age. We were somewhat surprised to hear this old man thus annihilate time and space, but not more so than when we heard him relate the conversation that passed between himself and Adam. It was both short and sweet. The Mexican demanded of Adam what was the particular game he was seeking in these parts, and the reply was deer. He said that he wished to kill a few choice bucks, in order to get their skins to clothe Eve with, and hence he had come to the Rocky Mountains. The flavor of this yarn was so good, I attempted to try the old man on another adventure, by asking him if he ever, by chance, in his travels, met the Evil One. Immediately, [pg 286] he informed me that at one time, that gentleman lived in a salt marsh, which is to be found in the valley of San Louis. The object of his staying there was to watch a very fine band of horses which he was raising near by. The Indians and Mexicans one day determined to deprive Satan of his stock, and arranged things accordingly; but, on coming upon the horses, they were surprised to find that they could not overtake them, and that the horses ran directly into the swamp and vanished by easily sinking out of sight. While looking for a path that led into this marsh, they were all at once scared nearly out of their senses by seeing the devil raise himself up in the midst of the bog. The sequel was, that the Mexicans and their Indian friends retreated as fast as possible, and never stopped until they had reached a place of safety. My companions became vexed to think any man could perpetrate such a story on travelers, who considered they knew a thing or two, and commenced quizzing the old gentleman by asking him what the Indians knew of Satan; but the old Mexican evaded the answer by taking down the little wooden cross which hung on the wall of the room and expressed the desire to confirm the truth of his story by swearing to it; this, of course, was said to be entirely unnecessary. From it, we had learned the lesson never to try to impress on the minds of the ignorant too weighty matters. This is true with the Indian also; for, he is incredulous of anything beyond the grasp of his own mind; which fact is illustrated by the following incident. An American had some business to transact with a certain band of Indians, who were celebrated as being very treacherous. Being [pg 287] a bold man, he thought he would beard the lions in their den, and accordingly, traveled alone to where the band was located; but, instead of being received with open arms, as he expected, he was made a prisoner, and so held until it could be decided what was to be done with him. At last, a council was formed, before which he was to be tried. The first question asked by the head chief was, "How do your white people get gunpowder?" The reply was instantaneous: "We sow it in a peculiar soil and it grows up like wheat." This was responded to by a grunt from the examiner. A pause ensued, when the chief looked the captive full in the eyes, and thus addressed him: "Know you, young man, that the Great Spirit came into our camp this morning, and after resting a short time he took yonder large hill and placed it on the top of its fellow, and after leaving it there two hours, he returned it to its former site. He then bid his Indian children good bye. Young man, your tongue is split: one fork is for telling lies, and the other is for telling truths." This was enough to convince the white man that he had made a mistake, and, that if he had attempted to presume on too much knowledge, his scalp might soon be dangling on some lodge-pole. The Indians admired the brave and manly course he had pursued in coming to them single-handed, and this, with the importance of the business he came on, saved his life.
The California Mexicans were so remote from their capital, that, although they acknowledged their allegiance to the general government, yet they were accustomed, in many things, to act with great independence. Whenever [pg 288] a governor was sent to them who would not conform to their rules and regulations, or made himself in the least obnoxious, he was immediately placed on board ship, with orders to take himself out of the country as fast as possible, which he never failed to obey, in order to save his life. Attempts were made by the home department to make them suffer for these disobediences of the general laws, but, in all of these contests, the Californians came out victorious, and hence they believed they were beyond the power of being vanquished. They were taught differently by the Americans.
These few cursory remarks will serve to show the reader that General Kearney had no despicable foe to overcome and subdue. His care now was to attend to the wounded. There was no rest for his command that night, as, during the hours of darkness, his men were busy interring their dead and looking after the wants of the sufferers. A sharp look-out, also, was kept on the movements of the enemy, who were continually receiving reinforcements. A council of war was held in the American camp, when Gen. Kearney, after taking the advice of his remaining officers, decided to move on early in the morning, with the hope of meeting reinforcements. He had dispatched three men as bearers of dispatches to Commodore Stockton at San Diego before the battle; but, whether they had been successful, or not, in reaching the commodore, the general did not know. Just before the late fight, they had returned to within sight of their friends, when they were taken prisoners by the Mexicans. The order of the march on the following day was as follows: Kit Carson, with a command of twenty-five [pg 289] men, proceeded in the advance, while the remainder, of the now very much crippled band of soldiers, followed after on the trail made by their guide. Steadily and compactly these brave men moved forward, being continually in expectancy of a charge from the enemy, who would show themselves, from time to time, on the neighboring hills, and then again, for a time, disappear. During the previous day, a Mexican lieutenant had his horse shot from under him and he himself had been taken prisoner. On a favorable opportunity occurring, General Kearney ordered the "halt" to be sounded; when, through a flag of truce, he asked a parley. It being granted, he succeeded in making an exchange of the lieutenant for one of his expressmen. He gained nothing by this, for the man stated that he and his companions had found it impossible to reach their point of destination, and hence they had turned back. The manœuvering on the part of the Mexicans, which we have alluded to as consisting of making temporary stands on the hills, and then changing their positions as the Americans drew near to them, continued for the greater part of the day. Finally, as Gen. Kearney and his men were approaching the water, where they, intended to camp, and were not over five hundred yards from it, down came the Mexicans, divided into two separate commands, for the purpose of making a charge. They were at first warmly received by the Americans, who, after a time, were obliged to give way to superior numbers; but, in doing so, they retreated in good order to a hill about two hundred yards to their left. Here they halted and determined to decide the battle; but the wary Mexicans, on seeing the [pg 290] strength of the position taken by their foes, declined to attack them and drew off to a neighboring height, from which they commenced and maintained a deadly fire on the Americans. Captains Emery and Turner, with all the available dragoons, were sent to dislodge them. This they did in splendid style, after a sharp encounter, and when their companions saw them take possession of this position, General Kearney, with all his wounded and luggage trains, joined them there. Here a permanent resting-place, for the time being, was made. In fact, the men had no other choice, as they were now pretty effectually used up from fighting, severe loss and fatigue. The Americans found on this hill water barely sufficient for their own use, and were obliged to exclude the idea of sharing it with their animals. Although within sight of abundance of this much-needed article, yet they did not dare to drive the latter to it, for they were too weak to defend them from the assaults of the enemy. The situation of Gen. Kearney's force was now critical in the extreme; as, besides the dangers that surrounded him, the men were reduced to living on their mules. That afternoon another council of war was called, at which desperate efforts to be made for immediate relief were discussed. When every spark of hope had almost died within them, and when they were in a dilemma as to what still remained for them to do, Kit Carson was found to act as the reader has previously seen him act to parties almost similarly situated—the right man in the right place. Rising to his feet, he addressed a few simple words to those present, saying that he was willing to make the attempt of creeping through the Mexican lines. [pg 291] Should he succeed, he pledged his word that he could carry information to Commodore Stockton at San Diego, and thus bring them succor. No sooner had he made this proposition than he was seconded by Lieutenant Beale, then of the United States Navy, who, equally as brave and daring as Kit Carson, volunteered his services in the undertaking.
This gentleman, since the time he first turned landsman up to the present date, has been adding fresh laurels to his fame. His recent career in exploring new routes across the great western girdle of prairies and mountains is so well known through his valuable and interesting reports as not to require recapitulation at our hands. His life has been one series of rare adventures; while, to the scientific world, he has proved a valuable acquisition. To the United States Government his services are inestimable; and, as an explorer, he has but few equals.
General Kearney at once accepted the noble and generous offers of these two men, knowing that if he waited until the following day and then attempted to leave the hill, the consequences would be most disastrous; for, in so doing, a sanguinary battle must certainly ensue, with the chances greatly against him. Having made the few preparations necessary, Kit Carson and Lieutenant Beale waited the setting in of night, under the cover of which they had both resolved to succeed in the performance of their mission or die in the attempt. Having got well under way, and while stealthily crawling over the rocks and brush, they found their shoes would often, even with the greatest preventive care being taken, strike against the various impediments to their progress [pg 292] and make sounds which might lead to their detection. To avoid this, they took them off and pushed them under their belts. Slowly, but surely, they evaded the vigilant guard of the Mexican sentinels, who they found to be mounted and three rows deep, evidently being determined not to be eluded. So near would they often come to these Mexican sentinels, that but a few yards would measure the distance between them and their enemies; yet, with brave hearts they crept along over the ground foot by foot; they were almost safe beyond these barriers, when all their hopes came near being dashed to pieces. This alarm was caused by one of the sentinels riding up near to where they were, dismounting from his horse and lighting, by his flint and steel, his cigarretto. On seeing this, Kit Carson, who was just ahead of Lieutenant Beale, pushed back his foot and kicked softly his companion, as a signal for him to lie flat on the ground as he (Carson) was doing. The Mexican was some time, being apparently very much at his leisure, in lighting his cigarretto; and, during these moments of suspense, so quietly did Kit Carson and his companion lie on the ground, that Carson said, and still affirms, that he could distinctly hear Lieutenant Beale's heart pulsate. Who can describe the agony of mind to which these brave hearts were subjected during this severe trial. Everything—the lives of their friends as well as their own—so hung on chance, that they shuddered; not at the thought of dying, but for fear they would fail in accomplishing what was dearer to them than life, the rescue of the brave men whose lives hung on their success. After quite a long time, the Mexican, [pg 293] as if guided by the hand of Providence, mounted his horse and made off in a contrary direction from the one where these bold adventurers were biding their time to accept either good, if possible, or evil, if necessary, from the wheel of fortune. For a distance of about two miles, Kit Carson and Lieutenant Beale thus worked along on their hands and knees. Continually, during this time, Kit Carson's eagle eye was penetrating through the darkness, ever on the alert to discover whatever obstacle that might present itself on which was stamped the least appearance of danger. Having passed the last visible image in the shape of a sentinel and left the lines behind them at a suitable distance, both men regained their feet, and once more breathed freely. Their first thought was to look for their shoes, but, alas, they were gone. In the excitement of the journey, they had not given them a thought since depositing them beneath their belts. Hardly a word had hitherto passed between these two companions in danger, but now they spoke hurriedly and congratulated each other on the success that so far had attended them, and thanked God in their hearts that He had so mercifully aided them. There was no time for delay, as they were by no means yet free from danger, though they thought that the worst was over. Kit Carson was familiar with the country, and well knew the necessity of avoiding, for fear of being discovered, all the well trodden trails and roads which led to San Diego, every one of which was closely watched by the enemy. He chose a circuitous route, over rocks, hills and wild lands. The soil was lined with the prickly pear, the thorns of which were penetrating, at almost every step, [pg 294] deep into their bare feet, which, owing to the darkness and the thickness of the plants, they could not avoid. The town of San Diego was located many miles in a straight line from the point from whence they had started, but, by the round-about route they were obliged to travel, this distance was much lengthened. All the following day they continued their tramp and made as much progress as possible. Their mental excitement kept them in good spirits, though, from previous fatigue, the want of food during this time, and by the rapid pace at which they were traveling, they were putting their physical powers to their full test. Another night closed in around them, yet "ONWARD" was their watchword, for they thought not of rest while those behind them were in such imminent peril. Kit Carson's only compass was his eye, which served him so well that soon the dark outlines of the houses of San Diego could just be discerned. Both men were ready to leap with joy. They were challenged by the American sentinels about the town, and answered in pure English, "Friends," which same English was unmistakable proof to the guard from whence they came. On stating their important business, they were conducted into the presence of Commodore Stockton, to whom they related what we have tried to describe. Commodore Stockton, with his usual promptitude, immediately detailed a command of about one hundred and seventy men to make forced marches in order to reach and relieve their besieged countrymen. With as much dispatch as possible, this force set out, taking with them a piece of heavy ordnance, which, for want of animals, the men themselves were obliged to draw, by attaching ropes to [pg 295] it. Kit Carson did not return with them, for it was considered that he had seen service enough for the present; besides, his feet were badly swollen and inflamed from the rough usage they had recently been obliged to submit to. He graphically described the position of Gen. Kearney, so that the relief party could have no difficulty in finding him. He remained to recruit in San Diego; though, had the commodore expressed the least wish to have Kit Carson return, every man who knows him can bear witness with me that he would have been the last person to object, so long as there was life in his body. Unused then to such hardships and mental excitements on land, as was his more experienced companion, Lieutenant Beale, from the trials of the service performed, became partially deranged; and for treatment, was sent on board the frigate Congress, which ship lay in the harbor, being one of the vessels attached to the commodore's fleet. Two long years elapsed before the gallant lieutenant fully recovered from the effects of this adventure, which, for the bravery and unselfishness evinced in its planning, and the boldness with which it was carried out, without mentioning the good results it produced, was not excelled by any one feat performed during the Mexican War. Better than all, had these two men known previously the poor rewards which were afterwards to be bestowed upon them by their government for this heroic deed, I hesitate not in saying, that it would have had no effect in changing their purpose. The reinforcements sent out to meet General Kearney, by traveling both by day and night, soon reached and released him, without coming in contact with the enemy. They kept [pg 296] a bright look-out and were early apprised, through their spies, of what was transpiring among the Americans; hence, as the naval brigade drew near, they retreated. The road being now clear, General Kearney, with his soldiers and the marines, marched on to San Diego, where his wounded men were comfortably housed and received the attentions of skillful surgeons.
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