 INTRODUCTION OF THE LIFE OF KIT CARSON. THE LIFE OF KIT CARSON, Hunter, Trapper, Guide, Indian Agent, and Colonel in the United States Army, by Edward S. Ellis. INTRODUCTION. Christopher Carson, or as he was familiarly called, Kit Carson, was a man whose real worth was understood only by those with whom he was associated, or who closely studied his character. He was more than Hunter, Trapper, Guide, Indian Agent, and Colonel in the United States Army. He possessed, in a marked degree, those mental and moral qualities which would have made him prominent in whatever pursuit or profession he engaged. His lot was cast on the extreme western frontier, where, when but a youth, he earned the respect of the tough and frequently lawless men with whom he came in contact. Integrity, bravery, loyalty to friends, marvelous quickness in making right decisions, in crisis of danger, consummate knowledge of woodcraft, a leadership as skillful as it was daring. All these were distinguishing traits in the composition of Carson, and were the foundations of the broader fame which he acquired as the friend and invaluable counselor of Fremont, the Pathfinder, in his expeditions across the Rocky Mountains. Father Kit, as he came to be known among the Indians, risked his life scores of times for those who needed, but had no special claim upon his services. The Red Men were quick to learn that he always spoke with a single tongue, and that he was their unselfish friend. He went among his hostels when no one off his race dared follow him. He averted more than one outbreak. He secured that which is impossible to secure, justice for the Indian, and his work from the time when a mere boy he left his native Kentucky was always well done. His memory will forever remain fragrant with those who appreciate true manhood and an unswerving devotion to the good of those among whom he lived and died. CHAPTER ONE OF THE LIFE OF KIT CARSON by EDWARD S. ELLIS This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Kit Carson, the most famous hunter, scout, and guide ever known in this country, was a native of Kentucky, the scene of the principal exploits of Daniel Boone, Simon Kenton, the Wetzel Brothers, and other heroic pioneers whose names are identified with the history of the settlement of the West. Christopher Carson was born in Madison County, December 24th, 1809, and while he was still an infant his father removed to Central Missouri, which at that day was known as Upper Louisiana. It was an immense wilderness, sparsely settled and abounding with wild animals and treacherous Indians. The father of Carson, like most of the early pioneers, divided his time between cultivating the land and hunting the game in the forests. His house was made strong and was pierced with loopholes so as to serve him in his defense against the Redmen that were likely to attack him and his family at any hour of the day or night. In such a school was trained the wonderful scout, hunter, and guide. No advantage in the way of a common school education were within reach of the youth situated as West Kit Carson. It is to be believed, however, that under the tutelage of his father and mother he picked up a fair knowledge of the rudimentary branches. For his attainments in that respect were above the majority of those with whom he was associated in afterlife. While a mere stripling Kit became known as one of the most skilful rifle shots in that section of Missouri which produced some of the finest marksmen in the world. It was inevitable that he should form a passion for the woods, in which, like the Great Boon, he would have been happy to wander for days and weeks at a time. When fifteen years old he was apprenticed to a saddler where he stayed two years. At the end of that time, however, the confinement had become so irksome that he could stand it no longer. He left the shop and joined a company of traders, preparing to start for Santa Fe, the capital of New Mexico, one of the most interesting towns in the southwest. The majority of its population are of Spanish and Mexican origin and speak Spanish. It is the center of supplies for the surrounding country and is often a scene of great activity. It stands on a plateau more than a mile above the sea level, with another snow-capped mountain rising a mile higher. The climate is delightful, and the supply of water from the springs and mountains is of the finest quality. Santa Fe, when first visited by the Spaniards in fifteen forty-two, was a populous Indian pueblo. It has been the capital of New Mexico for nearly two hundred and fifty years. The houses of the ancient town are made of adobe, one story high, and the streets are unpaved, narrow, crooked, and ill-looking. The inhabitants are of a low order, scarcely entitled to be ranked above the half-civilized. Though of late years the infusion of western life and rugged civilization has given an impetus and character to the place for which, through three centuries, it waited in vain. The company to which Young Kit Carson attached himself was strongly armed, and it made the perilous journey across rivers, mountains, and prairies, through a country infested with fierce Indians, without the loss of one of their number. This immunity was due to their vigilance and knowledge of the ways of the hostels, who, it may be said, were on all sides, from the beginning to the end of their journey. After reaching Santa Fe, Carson left the party and went to Taos, a small station to the north of Santa Fe. There he stayed through the winter of eighteen twenty-six to twenty-seven at the home of a veteran pioneer, from whom he gained not only a valuable knowledge of the country and its people, but became familiar with the Spanish language, an attainment which proved invaluable to him in after-years. In the spring he joined a party which set out for Missouri, but before reaching its destination another company of traders were met on their way to Santa Fe. Young Carson joined them, and some days later was back again in the quaint old capital of New Mexico. The youth's engagement ended with his arrival in the town, but there was nothing indolent in the nature of Carson, who immediately engaged himself as a teamster to a company about to start to El Paso on the Rio Grande, near the frontier of New Mexico. He did not stay long before drifting back to Santa Fe, and finally to Taos, where he hired out as a cook during the following winter, but had not wrought long when a wealthy trader, learning how well Carson understood the Spanish language, engaged him as interpreter. This duty compelled the youth to make another long journey to El Paso and Chihuahua, the latter being the capital of the province of the same name, and another of those ancient towns whose history forms one of the most interesting features of the country. It was founded in sixteen ninety-one and a quarter of a century later when the adjoining silver mines were in full operation, had a population of seventy-thousand, though today it has scarcely a fifth of that number. The position of interpreter was more dignified than any yet held by Carson, and it was at his command as long as he chose to hold it, but to one of his restless nature it soon grew monotonous and he threw it up, making his way once more to Taos. The employment most congenial to Carson's nature, and the one which he had been seeking ever since he left home, was that of hunter and trapper. The scarred veterans whom he met in the frontier and frontier post gave him many accounts of their trapping experiences among the mountains and in the gloomy fastnesses, where, while they hunted the bear, deer, beaver, and other animals, the wild Indian hunted them. Carson had been in Taos a short time only when he gained the opportunity for which he was searching. A party of trappers in the employ of Kit's old friend had just come to Taos, having been driven from their trapping grounds by the Indians. The employer said about raising a party strong enough to return to the trapping grounds, chastise the hostels, and resume business. Knowing the skill and bravery of the young Kentuckian, the gentleman made him an offer to join the party, and Kit eagerly accepted it. The Mexicans have never been particularly friendly toward their neighbors north of the Rio Grande, and at that time a very strict law was enforced which forbade the issuance of any license to American citizens to trap within Mexican territory. The company which melted their horses and rode out of Taos gave the authorities to understand that their errand was simply to chastise the red men, whereas their real purpose was to engage in trapping. With a view of misleading the officers, they took a roundabout route which delayed their arrival in the section. Nevertheless the hunters were desirous of punishing the Indians who had taken such liberties with the small party that preceded them. On one of the tributaries of the Gila the trappers came upon the identical ban whom they attacked with such fierceness that more than a dozen were killed and the rest put to flight. The fight was a desperate one, but young as Carson was, he acquitted himself in a manner which won the warmest praise of those with him. He was unquestionably daring, skillful and sagacious, and was certain if his life was spared to become one of the most valuable members of the party. Having driven the savages away the Americans began, or rather resumed their regular business of trapping. The beavers were so abundant that they met with great success. When the rodents seemed to diminish in number, the hunters shifted their quarters, pursuing their profession along the numerous streams until it was decided to divide into two parties, one of which returned to New Mexico while the other pushed on toward the Sacramento Valley in California. Carson accompanied the latter, entering the region at that early day when no white man dreamed of the vast wealth of gold and precious metals which so crowded her soil and river beds, that the wonder is the gleaming particles had not been detected many years before. But, as the reader knows, they lay quietly at rest until that eventful day in 1848, when the secret was revealed by Captain Sutter's Raceway and the frantic multitudes flocked thither from the four quarters of the earth. CHAPTER II OF THE LIFE OF KIT CARSON by EDWARD S. ELLIS California, one of the most magnificent regions of the earth, with its amazing mineral wealth, its rich soil and glorious climate, has its belts of sterility and desolation, where the bones of many a traveler and animal lie bleaching in the sun. Just as they fell years ago, when the wretched victims sank down and perished for want of food and water. The hunting party to which Carson was attached, numbered eighteen, and they entered one of those forbidding wastes where they suffered intensely. All their skill in the use of the rifle was of no avail when there was no game to shoot and it was not long before they were forced to live on horse-flesh to escape starvation. This, however, was not so trying as might be supposed, provided it did not last until the entire party were dismounted. Fortunately, in their straits they encountered a party of Mojave Indians who sold them enough food to remove all danger. These Indians form a part of the eumination of the Pima family and now make their home on the Mojave and Colorado rivers in Arizona. They are tall, well-formed, war-like, and industrious cultivators of the soil. Had they chosen to attack the hunters it would have gone ill with the whites, but the latter show commendable prudence which might have served as a model to the hundreds who came after them when they gained the goodwill of the red men. Extricating themselves from the dangerous stretch of country, the trappers turned westward until they reached the mission of San Gabriel, one of those extensive establishments formed by the Roman Catholic clergy a hundred years ago. There were over a score, San Diego being the oldest. Each mission had its priests, a few Spanish or Mexican soldiers, and scores, hundreds and sometimes thousands of Indian converts who received a scant support and some religious instruction. The mission of San Gabriel was by no means the largest in California, and yet at the time of Carson's visit it owned seventy thousand head of cattle, two hundred horses, three thousand mares, hundreds of mules, oxen, and sheep, while the vineyards produced six hundred barrels of wine every year. Those old sovereigns of the soil dispensed hospitality without stint to all who knocked at their gates. When the trappers caught sight of the mission as they rode out from the wilderness they knew what awaited them in the way of entertainment. They were treated right royally, but remained only one day. Not far away they reached another mission of less extent than the former, but without halt they pressed steadily forward toward the Sacramento River. The character of the section changed altogether. It was exceedingly fertile, and game was so abundant that they feasted to their heart's content. When fully rested they proceeded to the San Joaquin River down which they began trapping. While thus employed they were surprised to discover signs of another trapping party near them. They wondered where they came from, and it did not take them long to learn that their neighbors were a company of trappers belonging to the Hudson Bay Company. That enormous corporation founded two centuries before whose agents and employees tramp over British America, far to the northward of the frozen circle and until a recent date hunted through Oregon. The two parties were rivals in business, but they showed excellent sense by meeting on good terms and treating each other as friends. They trapped near each other until they came to the Sacramento once more when they parted company. The Hudson Bay trappers started for the Columbia River, while the one to which Carson was attached went into a camp where they were for the rest of the summer. With the approach of warm weather the trapping season ended and they devoted themselves to hunting and making ready for cold weather. It will be borne in mind that Kit Carson was still a youth, not having reached his majority. He was of short, compact stature, no more than five feet six inches tall, with light brown hair, gray eyes, large head, high forehead, broad shoulders, full chest, strong and possessing remarkable activity. Even at that early age he had impressed the veteran hunters and trappers around him as one possessing such remarkable abilities, that if his life was spared he was certain to become a man of mark. If we should attempt to specify the particular excellencies in which he surpassed those around him, it would be said that while Carson was one of the most fearless men who lived, yet he possessed splendid judgment. He seemed to know instinctively what could be accomplished by himself and friends in positions of extreme peril, and he saw on the moment precisely how to do that which often was impossible to others. His knowledge of woodcraft and the peculiarities of the savage tribes around him was as perfect as it could be. He was a matchless hunter, and no man could handle a rifle with greater skill. The wilderness, the mountains, the Indians, the wild animals. These constituted the sphere in which nature intended Kit Carson should move and serve his fellow men as no one before or after him has done. Added to these extraordinary qualifications was the crowning one of all, modesty. Alas, how often transcendent merit is made repelling by overwinning conceit. Kit Carson would have given his life before he would have traveled through the eastern cities with his long hair dangling about his shoulders, his clothing bristling with pistols and knives, while he strutted on the mimic stage as a representative of the untamed civilization of the Great West. Carson was a superior hunter when a boy in Missouri and the experience gained among the experienced hunters and trappers soon caused him to become noted by those who had fought red men, trapped beaver, and shot grizzly bears before he was born. And yet it could not have been that alone. It must have been his superior mental capacity which caused those heroes of a hundred perils to turn instinctively to him for counsel and guidance in situations of extreme peril. Among them all was no one with such masterful resources in that respect as he. While the trappers were encamped at this place, a messenger visited from the mission of San Rafael with a request that they would help chastise a party of Indians, who, after committing some outrages at the mission, have fled to an Indian village. When a demand was made for the surrender of the refugees, the villagers not only refused to give them up but attacked the party and drove them off. Appreciating the importance of upholding their authority, the priests sent to the trappers for assistance in bringing the guilty ones and their friends to terms. As soon as the request was made known, Carson and eleven of his companions volunteered to help their visitors. Thus reinforced the company from the mission set out again for the Indian village. Carson can attest more strongly the skill and bravery of Kit Carson than the fact that he was at once selected to lead the party on its dangerous errand. While he was as modest as a woman and with a voice as gentle and persuasive, he could not be ignorant of his own capacities, and he assumed charge without any pretense of unfitness. It is easy to understand the great care required in this expedition, for the warriors in the village, having beaten off their assailants, naturally looked for their return with reinforcements. And in order to ensure success it was necessary that the attack should be a surprise. Having brought his men quite close to the village unperceived, Kit gave the signal, and the whole company swept through the place like a cyclone. There were a few minutes of terrific fighting during which a score of warriors were killed, and then the entire village was captured. Carson as the leader of the assailants demanded the surrender of the offenders against the mission. Not daring to disobey such summons, they were delivered up to the authorities, and Carson, seeing nothing more to do for his friends, returned with his companions to camp and resumed hunting and their preparations for cold weather. CHAPTER III. OF THE LIFE OF KIT CARSON by Edward S. ELLIS. This Libervox recording is in the public domain. The trappers, being in the heart of the Indian country, with hostile on every hand, were cautious in all their movements. When one of the grizzled hunters in the depths of the wilderness fired his gun at some deer, antelope, or bear, he hastily reloaded his rifle, listening meanwhile for sounds of the stealthy footprints of his enemy. He knew not when the treacherous shot would be sent from behind the rock or clump of bushes, but he had learned long before that when he penetrated the western wilds and followed the calling of Trapper, he took his life in his hands and he was ready to go under whenever the fate so decreed. The most flagrant crime on the frontier is horse-stealing. He who shoots one of his fellow men has a chance of escaping punishment almost as good as that afforded in civilized communities. But if he steals a horse and is caught, his case is hopeless. It may be said that the value of the animal to the hunter or Trapper is beyond all calculation, and in as much as the red man is equally appreciative, Carson always warned his friends to be on the watch against the dusky thieves. Sentinels were on guard while others slept, but the very calamity against which they thus sought to protect themselves overtook them. One dark night a number of Indians stole by the sentinels and before their presence was discovered drove off the major part of the horses. In the morning when the alarming truth became known the employer of the trappers asked Carson to take twelve of the men and do his utmost to recover those that were stolen. Carson assented at once and in his quiet, self-possessed fashion collected his comrades who were speedily in the saddle and galloping along the trail of the thieves. It may strike the reader that an offhand statement like the forgoing relates to a proceeding of no special difficulty or peril. A party of brave white men were pursuing a company of Indian horse thieves and the chances of escape and capture were about equal. Thus the matter presents itself to the ordinary spectator whereas the truth was far different. In the first place the savages being as well-mounted as their pursuers were sure to maintain a swift pace so long as they believed any danger threatened. They would keep a keen watch of the back trail and would be quick to detect the approach of enemies. If pressed hard they would act as the Apaches and Comanches do when they find the United States troops at their heels. Pick up in so many small parties that it is impossible to follow them. First of all, therefore, Carson had two achievements before him and the accomplishment of either seemed to render the other impossible. He must travel at a faster rate than the thieves and at the same time keep them in ignorance of his pursuit. It is on such occasions that a man's woodcraft and knowledge of the country serve him so well. Many a time during the career of Kit Carson did he outwit the red men and white criminals, not by galloping along with his eye upon their footprints but by reasoning out with unerring skill the destination or refuge which the criminals had in mind. Having settled that all-important question he aimed at the same point and frequently reached it first. Thus it came about that often the fugitive, while hurrying along and glancing furtively behind him suddenly found himself face to face with his pursuer, whose acquaintance with the country enabled him to find the shorter route. It took Carson only a few minutes to satisfy himself that the criminals were heading for the Sierra Nevada Mountains, but in as much as they were following a direct course he could only take their trail. Where there were so many animals in flight it was impossible to hide their tracks and the thieves made no attempt to do so. They struck the horses into a sweeping gallop, which with a few interruptions they maintained until they were a hundred miles from the camp of the white men and among the fastnesses of the Sierras. Then it was the red men made a careful survey of the trail behind them. The black penetrating eyes scanned the country with a piercing keenness which it would seem shut out all possibility of concealment. There could they detect the faint smoke climbing toward the sky from among the trees, nor could they gain sight of the line of horsemen winding around the rocks in the distance. Nothing resembling a human being was visible. Surely they were warranted in believing themselves perfectly secure. Such being their conclusion they prepared for a great feast. Six of the stolen horses were killed and the red men became as ardent hypocrisy as was the club of advanced Parisians a short time ago. The roasted meat tasted as fine to them as though it was the choices' slices from the bison or deer, and they ate and froliced like so many children let loose for a holiday. But in the midst of their feast was heard a series of frightful yells and whoops. The appalled Indians had scarcely time to turn their eyes when a dozen horsemen that seemed to have risen from the very ground thundered down upon them. Carson and his men had overtaken the thieves and they now swept down upon them with resistless fury. The fight was as short as it was fierce. The red men fell on the right and left and those who escaped the wrath of the trappers scattered and ran as if a hundred bombshells were exploding around them. Every horse stolen except the six killed for the feast were recovered and Carson took them back to camp without the loss of a man. The hunters stayed until early autumn when their employer decided to go to New Mexico. The journey led for a great portion of the way through a country over which they had traveled and which therefore was familiar to them. After halting a brief while at the mission of San Fernando they arrived at Los Angeles which, like the rest of the country as the reader knows, belonged to Mexico. As it was apparent that the horsemen were hunters and trappers, the authorities demanded their written license to pursue their calling in Mexican territory. Such was the law and the officials were warranted in making the demand, but it need not be said that the party were compelled to admit they had nothing of the kind in their possession. The authorities thereupon determined to arrest the hunters but knowing their desperate nature hesitated as to the safe means of doing so. They finally hit upon a rather ingenious though unfair means of disarming the white men. They began giving them fire-water to drink, refusing to accept pay therefore. Those who lead lives of hardship and peril are generally fond of such indulgence, and though the trappers could not fail to understand the purpose of the Mexicans, and though they knew the disastrous consequences of giving away to temptation, they yielded and took in their mouths the enemy which stole away their brains. The employer became alarmed and saw that something must be done at once or everything would be lost. Carson had been too wise to fall into the snare and he turned to him. "'Take three of the soberest men,' said he, and the loose animals and camp-equipage and push out of the place. I will join you as soon as I can but you mustn't linger for me. If I fail to join you, hasten to New Mexico and make known that I and the rest of my men have been massacred.' These instructions were definite and they showed the gravity of the situation. Carson did as directed, while the employer gave his attention to the rest of the men. It was high time that he did so, for they were fast succumbing to their appetites. Despite the indignant protests and efforts of the employer, they would have undoubtedly fallen victims but for an unlooked-for occurrence. One of the trappers who was so much under the influence of liquor as to become reckless, fired upon and slightly wounded a native of the place. The act threw the Mexicans into a panic of terror, and they fled from the presence of the dreaded Americans who seemed eager for any sanguinary deed. The employer was wise enough to take advantage of the occurrence and he succeeded, after much labor, in getting his half-intoxicated men together and out of the place. The horses were forced to their utmost, and the same night they overtook Carson and his anxious companions. All danger from that source was ended. End of Chapter 3 Chapter 4 of The Life of Kit Carson by Edward S. Ellis. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. A week or more later the trappers again reached the Colorado River. They had traveled at a leisurely pace and once more they went into camp where they were familiar with the country. Men leading such lives as they were accustomed to all kinds of surprises, but it may be doubted whether the trappers were more amazed in all their existence than when five hundred Indian warriors made their appearance, and with signs of friendship overran the camp before they could be prevented or checked. The hunters did not know what to make of the proceeding and looked to Carson for advice. He had already discovered that the situation was one of the gravest danger. Despite the profession's of friendship Kit saw that each warrior had his weapons under his dress, where he hoped they were not noticed by the whites. Still worse most of the hunters were absent visiting their traps, only Kit and a few of his companions being in camp. The occasion was where it was necessary to decide at once what to do and then to do it without flinching. Among the red men was one who spoke Spanish and to him Carson addressed himself. You must leave the camp at once. If you don't do so without a minute's delay we shall attack you and each of us is sure to kill one warrior if not more. These brave words accompanied by such determination of manner were in such contrast to the usual course of the cowardly Mexicans that the Indians were taken all aback. They could not suspect the earnestness of the short, sturdy framed leader nor could they doubt that though the Indians would be sure to overwhelm the little band yet they would have to pay dearly for the privilege. It took them but a few minutes to conclude the price was all together too high and they drew off without making a hostile demonstration against the brave Carson and his men. The trappers worked their way down the Colorado until they arrived at Tidewater when they moved to the Gila along which they trapped until they reached the mouth of the San Pedro. They were in sore need of horses with which to transport their furs and peltries that had become numerous and bulky. While in this neighborhood they discovered a large herd of horses and mules in the possession of a few Indians. According to the morality of the border this property was legitimate prey but in point of fact when the trappers determined to take the animals from the aborigines they became thieves and robbers. However it is not to be hoped that a single member of the company felt the slightest twinge of conscience when he rode at full speed yelling to the highest bent and helped scatter the terrified red men to the winds. The entire herd fell into the hands of the whites and congratulating themselves on their good fortune they kindled a huge fire and encamped for the night. Most of the men had lain down with the intention of sleeping until morning and Kit sat looking in the fire when his trained ear caught a peculiar sound. At first it seemed to be the faint roll of distant thunder but he knew it was not. He listened carefully and was able to tell the direction once came the singular noise but remained uncertain as to its cause. Then as he had done many a time he leaned over and pressed his ear to the solid earth. Immediately the rumbling became more distinct and he recognized what it meant. It was the tramp of numerous hooves galloping forward. Carson and several of his men stole noiselessly out to reconnaissance and found a half-dozen warriors hurrying along a drove of more than a hundred horses. They had been on a raid among the Mexican settlements in Sonora and were now returning home with their plunder. The temptation was one which Carson and his companions could not resist. They sent a volley from their rifles among the thieves which threw them into such a panic that they dashed off at full speed without giving the least thought to their valuable property. The latter, as a matter of course, was taken charge of by the trappers who were glad of the opportunity to chastise the cowardly marauders. Under the circumstances, however, the animals were of little value to the hunters, who had all they needed. It was beyond their power to return them to their owners but the best were selected, several of the plumpest killed and cured and the rest turned loose to go whether they chose. The trappers continued up the Gila until near the copper mines of New Mexico where they found a party of white men trading with the Indians. The peltries were cached and placed in charge of their friends while Carson and his companions continued on until they reached Santa Fe. There their employer bought a license to trade with the Indians who live near the copper mines. Then they went back and procuring their furs returned once more to Santa Fe where they were sold for more than twenty thousand dollars. This being equitably divided among the hunters furnished each a goodly sun. Like so many sailors just ashore from a long voyage most of the trappers went on a prolonged carousel which caused their money to melt like snow in the sun. When their pockets were empty they had aching heads, weak frames and only the memory of their feverish pleasures. Carson did not go through this trial unscathed. He drank and spree'd with the rest, but he awoke to the folly and madness of his course sooner than they and the sad lesson learned at the time lasted him through life. The baneful habit was not fastened upon him and he not only acquired the mastery over self but was able more than once to save others from falling into the whirlpool which has swept unnumbered multitudes to wretchedness and death. Carson found little in the way of congenial employment until the fall of the year when he joined a second trapping expedition. The first had won him such a reputation for sagacity, daring and skill that his services were always in demand and those who were forming such enterprises sought him out among the very first. The new party was in charge of an experienced mountaineer who told Kitt his intention was to trap along the principal streams of the Rocky Mountains. He was well acquainted with the region and was confident that the expedition would not only be enjoyable and thrilling in the highest degree but would prove profitable to all. The party travelled northward until they reached the Platte River where the business began. They moved from stream to stream as necessity demanded, shooting such game as they needed, exchanging shots with the watchful red men who killed four of the trappers while hunting bison, and steadily adding to their stock of furs until the close of the season in the spring of 1831. Learning that an old mountaineer named Captain Gaunt had spent the winter at Laramie River and was then at New Park, Kitt Carson and four of his friends set out to join him. It was a long and perilous journey, but they made it in safety and the captain gave them glad welcome. They hunted together for many months following until the captain went to Taos to sell his peltries. On his return operations were resumed until the weather became so cold they were forced into winter quarters. The winter proved very severe. The snow was so deep that only by cutting down numerous cotton woods and using the bark and twigs for fodder were the animals saved from starvation. Fortunately, they had laid in a good stock of bison meat so that the trappers themselves underwent no suffering for food. In fact they found little to do except to pass the time in idleness. With abundant food, plenty of tobacco, and the means of engaging in certain games, they wild away the long winter days and evenings until the signs of spring appeared. But while the winds were moaning around their hut in which they made their home and the snow rattled like fine sand against the logs, they were taught again that no weather is severe enough to keep the wily red men within his wigwam. A party of crow Indians discovered the camp of the trappers and one tempestuous night made them a stealthy visit. They departed during the darkness and when they went away took with them nine of the very best horses of the hunters. A loss too serious to be born without using every recourse to prevent it. CHAPTER V. OF THE LIFE OF KIT CARSON By Edward S. Ellis. This lipervox recording is in the public domain. Instinctively every one turned to Carson to learn what he had to advise and yet each was certain what he would say. It'll never do, boys, to let them steal our horses in that style. He remarked in his quiet fashion, compressing his lips and shaking his head, while his eyes flashed with a dangerous light. All knew what his words and manner meant and in a twinkling the thirteen men were in their saddles and with their gallant leader at their head galloped forth off in pursuit. It would be supposed where the ground was covered with snow to such a depth that it was the easiest matter imaginable to follow the trail. And yet Kit and his companions found it one of the most difficult tasks they had ever undertaken. Hundreds of bison had repeatedly crossed the track since they were made and less experienced eyes than those of the trappers would have given over the search and despair. But no one thought of turning back and the pursuit was pushed unflaggingly for fully forty miles. Not the first glimpse had been obtained of the Indians and the horses that had been pushed so hard finally gave out. They were in poor condition and when the company came to a hot showed such exhaustion that it was evident they could not be forced much further. It was decided, therefore, to go into camp. Accordingly they turned the heads of their panting animals toward a piece of woods a short distance away. Before the shelter was reached the trappers were astonished to observe a column of smoke rising above the trees. They looked at each other's faces with a smile of gratification. In as much as the trail led into the grove and it was evident a campfire was burning there, it followed that they were close to the thieves whom they had followed such a long distance. The discovery infused new warmth into the blood of the hunters who were fairly a tremble with eagerness to attack the unsuspecting Indians. But all were too experienced in the ways of the wilderness to allow their impatience to betray them into any indiscretion. They deemed it necessary that their assort should be a surprise and they, therefore, withdrew to a secluded place in the woods and waited for night. This was trying to a painful degree. The weather which had been bitterly cold during the day grew still colder until the animals shivered as if with the ague. They were carefully tied where the trees partly sheltered them from the cutting wind and the hunters made sure their arms were ready. Then, when the sun went down and darkness crept over the snowy landscape, the men moved around so as to approach the camp from the direction opposite to that from which the Indians would naturally look for pursuit. When close enough to catch sight of the flames among the trees, the hunters sank on their knees and crept noiselessly forward until able to gain a full view of the dusky thieves. They were surprised at what they saw. The savages had thrown some logs and stones together so as to make a couple of rude forts and had divided themselves into two parties. It was characteristic of them that they were holding a dance and feast in honour of the brilliant style in which they had outwitted the trappers forty miles away. The scene was quite interesting, especially when our friends plainly saw their stolen animals tied near one of the forts. The sight of their property was anything but soothing to the wrathful trappers who were resolved not to go back to their own camp without taking the horses along. But the crows were strong in number, well armed and ready to fight on the briefest notice. It would have been an act of the greatest rashness to charge upon their camp while they were excited to an unusual degree by the rejoicing in which all took a hilarious part. The whites decided to wait several hours longer until most of their enemies would be unconscious in slumber. All this time the weather was growing colder and toughened as the trappers had become by years of exposure they suffered greatly. They dare not move about to keep up the circulation of their blood, for the slightest noise was liable to attract the suspicion of some of the crows who might be prowling through the grove. More than once Carson feared his limbs were freezing, but he held out like the genuine hero he was, and his companions were all worthy of him. At last the dance was over and the tired warriors wrapped their blankets around their forms and stretched out to rest. Their manner showed they had no thought that a foe was anywhere in the neighborhood. Although such men sleep lightly they do not remain long awake when courting sleep, and in a brief while all were unconscious except the sentinels on duty. Even they were so confident that nothing threatened that they became less vigilant than usual. Sh! now is the time! whispered the youthful leader. They had decided long before upon their plan of action so that no time was lost in consultation. Kit and five of his men began slowly creeping toward their horses. This was anything but a pleasant occupation, for the snow it will be remembered was deep on the ground. But such veterans cared nothing for a trifle like that, and they speedily reached their animals. Such an attempt is always a dangerous one, for the horse of the Indian or white hunter often proves his most skillful sentinel. He is able to detect the stealthy approach of a scout, long before the straining ear of his master can catch the slightest sound. If the beasts should become frightened by the shadowy figures crawling over the snow, they would be likely to alarm the camp. But Carson and his companions managed it so well that there was not a single nay or stamp of a hoof. Silently rising to their feet they cut the halters which held the horses fast, and then, withdrawing a slight distance, began throwing snowballs at them. These feathery missiles fell among and struck against them, until, to escape the mimic bombardment, they moved out the wood altogether, where they were taken charge by the others who were waiting. All this was accomplished without attracting the attention of a single Indian. Having met with such success, common prudence and sense suggested that the trappers should make all haste to their own comfortable quarters, so many long miles away. But they had scarcely joined each other when they fell into an earnest discussion as to what the next step should be. Some were in favour of withdrawing with the least possible delay. But Kit Carson and a couple of daring spirits were bent on going back and punishing the thieves who had given them so much trouble. As they could not be argued out of their purpose, the others, as a matter of course, agreed to give them their aid. Three of the trappers were sent to take the recaptured animals to where the saddle horses were secured while the others advanced directly upon the Indian camp. They moved cautiously as was their custom and were almost upon the crows when one of their dogs gave notice of danger by a vigorous barking. On the instant the warriors leaped to their feet and the fight opened. So many of the Indians were shot down and the advantage was so strongly against them that the survivors hastily ran into the nearest fort from which they returned the fire of their assailants. The latter, however, had stationed themselves behind trees where they were safe against the whistling bullets and in their attack they threw away very few shots indeed. It began growing light in the east and as soon as the crows discovered how few composed the besieging force they in turn became the assailants and rushed out of their fort with their frightful war-woops, but they were met by such a destructive fire that they scurried back again. The second attack of the savages was so furious that the trappers were forced to fall back, but the reserve, as it may be called, speedily joined them and once more drove the Indians into their fort. Several of the whites had been wounded, though not dangerously, and both parties having had enough of fighting, the battle ended. CHAPTER VI of THE LIFE OF KIT CARSON by EDWARD S. ELLIS A half-century ago the vast region beyond the Rikie Mountains was comparatively unknown and unexplored. Its general features, of course, were understood, but the interior was like the central portion of Australia or Africa. Clark and Lewis made their famous expedition to Oregon during the early days of the century and helped to turn general attention in that direction. Its growth and development since then is one of the wonders of the age. But there was one class, if the word may be used, who never hesitated to penetrate the wildest and most dangerous recesses of the far west and northwest. Those were the hunters and trappers. As we have already stated, the employees of the venerable and all-embracing Hudson Bay Company ranged over British America and through Oregon, to which vast territory they possessed the clear legal right, besides which they and the trappers of the American fur company frequently trespassed on each other's reserves, and not infrequently came in bloody collision with each other. Far to the northward the Indian drove his birch canoe across the silent Athabasca and Great Bear Lakes, on his way with his peltries to the distant factory or post of the company. Along the frozen shores of the Lone McKenzie, the only American river flowing into the Arctic Ocean, the trapper glided on his snowshoes or with his sturdy dogs and sleigh, fought his way over the snowy wastes of Prince Rupert's land. The brigades in their boats rounded the curves of the Saskatchewan, keeping time with their paddles to their own cheery songs. Their campfires were kindled in the land of the Assiniboine, and they set their traps in the wildest recesses of the Rocky Mountains, where the whirling snowstorms almost carried them off their feet. But north of the dividing line the hunters had little, if anything, to fear from the Redmen. Though they encountered in the loneliest and most desolate distant regions, they generally met and separated as friends. Among the perils of the trapper's life in British America was not reckoned that from the hostile natives. It was far different within our own territory. Those who left our frontier states and pushed westward, and those who penetrated northward and eastward from the Mexican country, knew they were invading the hunting grounds of the fiercest Indians on the American continent. We have already told enough to show the intense hostility of the Redmen. Between them and the hunters and trappers raged a war that never ceased or slackened, except when policy held it for a time in check. The little group of horsemen who rode out from Independence or Westport, or who took steamer at St. Louis up the Missouri, often came back with several of their number missing. Up among the mountains they had gone out to visit their traps and had never come back to camp. The lurking blackfoot, or sue, or crow, had aimed all too well, and as he bounded whooping away he swung aloft the scalp of his victim, whose trapping days were ended for ever. After recovering their horses from the band of crows, Carson and his companions returned to camp where they remained until spring, when they cached their furs and made their way to the Laramie River on another hunting expedition. While thus employed a couple of them men deserted, taking several of the best animals. Kit Carson and a single companion were sent in pursuit, the rascals having a good day's start. A desperate fight was sure to follow a meeting between the parties, for Carson would never forgive such treachery, and the deserters were not the ones to permit themselves to be despoiled of their booty without doing their utmost to prevent it. It was suspected that they were on their way to the place where the beaver had been cached, and disregarding the trail therefore Carson made all haste to thither. It need not be said that he lost no time on the road, but when he reached their old camp he found the deserters had preceded him. They had stolen several thousand dollars worth of furs and departed. Carson was more anxious than ever to overtake the scoundrels. He and his companions made diligent search, but failed utterly to find them. They were never seen or heard of again, and Carson was convinced they had fallen victims to the Indians who in turn made off with the stolen peltries. It will be borne in mind that Kit and his friend were several hundred miles from the main body of hunters, and in one of the most dangerous countries they had ever visited. So dangerous indeed did they consider an attempt to return to them that they decided not to make it, but to stay in the old camp. In as much as it would be impossible to keep their presence from the knowledge of the Indians, they threw up some rude fortifications and never relaxed their vigilance. When Carson wrapped his blanket around him and lay down to rest he knew his companion was on guard and would not slumber. It was the same with his friend. Their watchfulness undoubtedly preventing the attack which scarcely could have failed to be effectual. It was needful now and then that one of them should venture out to procure gain, but that was so plentiful that he was never compelled to go far, and he used such extreme care that he was not even so much as fired upon. Thus the time passed until at the end of several weeks the hunters were surprised and delighted by the arrival of more than a dozen men on their way with a complete outfit to join the main body. Carson and his friend were glad enough to go with them and the long journey was begun. They had not gone far when they exchanged shots with hostels and there were almost daily skirmishes with them. By sunset they had traveled a long distance and went into camp feeling certain that though Indians had not shown themselves they were in the vicinity. To prevent a stampede of their animals the long ropes around their necks were fastened to stakes driven deep into the earth. This arrangement allowed them to graze over sufficient ground and opposed an almost insuperable obstacle to the success of the dusky thieves prowling around. It was yet early in the evening when one of the dogs belonging to the camp began barking. A score of causes might have caused this, but Carson believed the incitement in that instance was the one most dreaded. Several men were added to the guard and the rest lay down, too uneasy to gain much slumber, however. The trappers were right in their suspicion that savages were near, but they could not have failed to note what precautions had been taken by the whites against surprise and they withdrew without molesting them. The party were in a beaver country and Carson and three of his men went up the stream some distance to learn whether it was worth their while to set the traps. They had not been gone long when a party of Indians who were probably awaiting such an opportunity charged upon the camp and drove off all the loose horses. Four of the hunters instantly saddled the swiftest of those remaining and started in hot pursuit. So hot indeed was the pursuit that they speedily came up with the marauders and opened a running fight. One of the hunters was badly wounded while a warrior was shot from his horse pitching headlong to the earth with a screech of agony. The remaining ones were pressed so hard that they were glad enough to abandon the property which came back to the rightful owners, probably before an animal was able to comprehend what had taken place. The promptness and daring of the hunters had prevented a serious loss and though one of their number was severely hurt, his wound was not mortal. It may be said that he suffered much but fully recovered in time. Men with such iron constitutions and rugged frames rallied from injuries that would have swept off those accustomed to less stirring lives. Having righted matters so far as possible, the trappers picketed their horses and awaited their return off Carson and his companions. They were much disturbed by fears for their safety, as in truth they had good cause to be. Exploration To do this it was necessary to ride over a lofty rocky mountain peak or take many hours to pass around it. Very naturally they concluded to cut across lots, confident of their ability to take care of themselves no matter what danger threatened. The ascent proved very exhausting to men and animals, for the trappers did not compel the weary beasts to bear them up the steep slope where it tired them to force their own way. They rested many times but finally accomplished the ascent and passed over into the valley beyond. Their disappointment awaited them. The most careful search failed to show the first sign of a beaver and they had their labor for their pains. The toil of climbing the mountain peak was so severe that the hunters concluded to take the longer route home. Their steeds had been pushed so hard that they were permitted to set their own pace on their return. This naturally enough was a deliberate walk while their riders talked, laughed, gested, and occasionally made some remark on the magnificent scenery by which they were surrounded. There was no call for haste and they knew nothing of what had taken place in camp after their departure. Otherwise they might have felt more impatience to rejoin their friends. All at once the hunters described four Indian warriors in the path in front. They were splendidly mounted, their hair ornamented with stained eagle feathers, their ugly countenances dogged with yellow, black, and crimson paint, and they were fully armed. Their appearance showed that they were on the war-path. Such undoubtedly being the case a sight of the braves was a challenge to the hunters who accepted it without a second's hesitation. Pausing not a moment to consult on their plan of action, Kit and his companions spurred their horses to a dead run, with the purpose of bringing them within range of their rifles. But the steeds of the dusky foes were fleet afoot and they sped away like the wind. The pursuit was a furious one, until the flying fugitive shot by a hill, when more than fifty warriors, similarly mounted and accoutered, dashed off to intercept the enthusiastic hunters. Just then it dawned upon Kit and his companions that the whole proceeding was a trap arranged by the Indians into which he and his friends had dashed at headlong speed. It was in such crisis that Kit Carson displayed his marvellous resources and lightning-like perception of the best course to adopt. The discovery of the ambush would have thrown almost any company of men, no matter how brave, into a panic, or at least into temporary confusion which would have been equally disastrous. Most probably they would have reigned up or wheeled about and fled in the opposite direction. The whole band would have dashed in pursuit and the running fight between four men and more than twelve times their number, every one of whom it is fair to presume was thoroughly familiar with the country, could have resulted in but one way. Skilled and daring as were Kit Carson and his comrades, they could not accomplish the impossible, as they would have had to do in order to escape the yelling band behind them. Kit was slightly in advance of the others and did not check his animal in the least. On the contrary he urged him to his utmost, and the force sped straight ahead on a dead run, seemingly as if they meant to charge the entire war-party. Such, however, was not their intention. They shied off as much as they could, and throwing themselves forward and over the side of their horses ran the terrible gauntlet. No one of the trappers fired a shot, for if dismounted by the bullets of their enemies, each wished to have his loaded rifle in hand with which to make his last defense. The very audacity of the movement amazed the Indians. By the time they comprehended what the white men were doing, they were thundering in front of them. Then the warriors opened fire and the bullets whistled about the horses and riders, who kept their steeds to the highest bent and finally passed beyond danger. Their escape one of the most extraordinary on record. The Indians did not pursue the hunters, two of whom had been struck by their bullets, and Carson and his friends threw their horses down to a more moderate pace. The great scout admitted that he was never more utterly deceived and entrapped by the red men in all his life. But he saw, in the occurrence, a deeper significance than appeared on the surface. The ambush into which he and his friends had been led was only a part of the campaign against the entire party, who, weakened by the absence of Carson and his companions, were likely to fall victims to such a large band of warriors. Trimbling with fear for their comrades, they again forced their animals to a high speed and lost no time in making their way back to camp. They found everything in good shape much to their relief and were not at all surprised to learn of the visit that had been made by the savages during the absence of Kitt and his companions. The wounds of the two trappers who were shot while running the fiery gauntlet were found to be of such a serious nature that the party had not gone far when they were obliged to go into camp again. One of them especially was in such a bad way that it was found necessary to carry him on a litter until the main camp was reached. There he was allowed to rest and everything possible was done to make him comfortable. When he had fully recovered, the entire party headed for Old Park, once famous on account of the immense numbers of beavers found there. This appointment, however, awaited them, for other trappers had preceded them and made such thorough work that it was useless for the last arrivals to unload and set their traps. The party visited other sections, but in every instance they appeared to be a day too late for the fair. The beaver runs had been worked so thoroughly by others that it was useless for them to expect success. The beaver, as the reader probably knows, aside from its great value in producing fur and perfume, possesses a most wonderful instinct. They live in communities and prefer to build their houses by small, clear rivers and creeks or close to springs. Sometimes they are found on the banks of lakes. The dams which they construct with the skill of a professional civil engineer are built for the purpose of making sure of a full supply of water at all times and seasons. These dams are composed of stones, mud, and tree branches, the base being ten or twelve feet in thickness, sloping gradually upward to the summit. In building their dams, the beaver does not thrust the ends of the stakes into the bed of the river, but lays them down horizontally, holding them in place by piling mud and stones upon them. The logs which compose the dams are mostly from six to eight inches in diameter, though some have been found nearly two feet through. The enormous number of such logs used may be imagined, perhaps, when the ponderous character of the dams is remembered, and when it is stated that some of them are more than an eighth of a mile wide, every log, after being nod off the proper length, is stripped of its bark which is stored away for use as food during the winter. The lodges of the beavers are composed principally of mud, moss, and branches, circular in shape, the space within being seven feet in width and about half as high. The walls are so thick that on the outside the corresponding dimensions are nearly three times as great as within. The roof is finished off with a thick layer of mud, laid on with wonderful smoothness and renewed every year. The severe frosts of winter freeze the lodge into such a solid structure that the beaver is safe against the wolverine, which is unable to break through the wall resembling the adobe structures found in Mexico and the Southwest. Even the trapper who attempts to demolish one of the structures finds it tiresome labor even with the help of iron implements. The beavers excavate a ditch around their lodges too deep to be frozen. Into this opens all their dwellings, the door being far below the surface, so that free ingress and egress are secured. The half-dozen beavers occupying a lodge arrange their beds against the wall, each separate from the other, while the center of the chamber is unoccupied. During summer they secure their stock of food by gnawing down hundreds of trees, the trunks or limbs of which are sunk and fastened in some peculiar manner to the bottom of the stream. During the winter, when the beaver feels hungry, he dives down, brings up one of the logs, drags it to a suitable spot, and nibbles off the bark. It is impossible fully to understand how this remarkable animal does its work, for as it never toils in the daytime, it is out of the power of anyone to watch its method. The peculiar odiferous substance secreted in two glandular sacs near the root of the tail is castorium, more generally known as barkstone, among the trappers. The odour is powerful, and is so attractive to the animals themselves that the trapper has only to smear some of it near the trap which is hidden under the water. Any beaver which catches the scent is sure to hasten to the spot, and is almost certain to be caught in the trap. End of Chapter 7 CHAPTER VIII OF THE LIFE OF KIT CARSON by EDWARD S. ELLIS This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Kit Carson finally grew tired of wandering over the country without gaining sight of a beaver. He proposed to two of his companions that they start on a private expedition of their own. They were as disgusted as he, and eagerly agree to the proposition. The employers of the men commended the enterprise of the little company and gave them their best wishes. Cordial farewells were exchanged all around, and Kit and his comrades left the camp on their perilous errand. On this occasion, as on innumerable other ones, Carson showed most excellent judgment. His scheme was to keep entirely to the streams, never once venturing upon the plains. Several advantages were likely to flow from this course. During the summer season, the mountain Indians generally placed their women and children in charge of the old men and a few warriors, and came down from their retreats to engage in hunting bison, or in marching on the warpath. Occasionally they are at peace with the Indians of the plains, which was a bad thing for the Mexican settlements, for they left a track of desolation among them. Few of the trappers ventured far into the mountains, where game was abundant, so that Carson was confident of finding plenty of beavers. In this he was not mistaken. The fur-bearing animals seemed to be overrunning the country, while the Indians acted not only as if unaware of the fact, but as if entirely ignorant of the little party of visitors, who making hay while the sun shines, were not long in finding themselves with as large a supply as they could carry home. This was the ordeal more to be dreaded than all the others. While on their way to the beaver runs, they had nothing to do beyond taking care of themselves. But now their valuable peltries were liable to be captured by the Indians, who could compel their abandonment by pressing the owners hard. But extreme and altogether unexpected good fortune attended them, and they reached Taos without receiving a scratch or losing a fur. They found on arriving at that quaint town that there was a great demand for peltries, and prices were correspondingly high. They sold out their stock for a very liberal price, and Kit's friend, despite his advice, went on a carousel which soon squandered all their hard-earned wages. Kit himself, however, had not lost the lesson he learned under somewhat similar circumstances, and he laid away his funds against the proverbial rainy day. By this time the character of Carson was fairly formed. He was resolute, self-reliant, sober, thoughtful, cool-headed, wonderfully quick to grasp all the points of a situation, chivalrous, agile as a panther, a perfect master of woodcraft, and with all, charmingly modest. While Carson was in Taos, waiting for some favorable opening to present itself, he met Captain Lee, formerly of the United States Army, but who was then a member of the firm of Bent and St. Vrain, engaged for so many years in furnishing supplies to those who visited the mountains and plains. Captain Lee at that time was thus employed, and knowing the value of a man like Carson, he made him so liberal an offer that he accepted it on the spot. In the autumn of 1832, with a train of mules loaded with such goods as were needed by trappers, Captain Lee, Carson, and a number of men started northward to find their purchasers. They followed the well-worn mule path leading from New Mexico to California, and which had been known for years as the Old Spanish Trail. They reached White River without mishap, and made their way down it until Green River was forded when they struck across the country to Wenty River, where they came upon a party of twenty hunters who were engaged in trading and trapping as opportunity offered. They affiliated at once, for there is something in the presence of a common danger which draws men closely together. The weather became very cold and snow began to fall. It was decided therefore to go into winter quarters near the mouth of Wenty River. There they erected skin lodges such as are used by many tribes of American Indians, and were content to wait the coming of spring. The skill and address of Carson seemed to create a call for his services. No matter where he happened to be, and it was not long before he became involved in a most remarkable adventure. Among the employees of the other party was a shrewd, civilized Indian, who was held in high regard by the Whites on account of his native keenness and who stood well in the confidence of his employer. But one day he disappeared, simultaneously with several of the very best horses. The circumstances were such that there could be no doubt the two occurrences were inseparably connected. The loss was too serious to be borne, and the angered leader of the other company, though he had not the least claim upon young Carson, appealed to him to help him to recover his property. Carson said he was perfectly willing, provided Captain Lee would give his consent, and as the Captain was more than willing to help his friend, he directed Carson to do as he saw fit. The matchless hunter made sure his weapons were in the best order, and mounting one of the fleetest horses in the camp, he waved a merry farewell to his friends and galloped off. He had not ridden far when he turned off toward an Indian village, whose people were on friendly terms with the hunters, and riding directly among the red men whose lingo he understood. He asked for one of their bravest warriors to join him in hunting down a California Indian who had run off with their best horses. Such a request coming from any other hunter would have received little notice, but those dusky barbarians not only knew Carson by name, but looked upon him as the greatest white warrior they had ever seen. He could have secured a score of braves had he wanted them. But he desired only one, a Senui daring fellow whom he knew could be relied on in any emergency. This Indian required no more time than Carson himself to make ready. And shortly after Kit's arrival in the village, he rode forth again with his faithful friend at his elbow. It was impossible for the thief to conceal the trail of the stolen horses, and he made no attempt to do so. A slight examination showed the pursuers that it led down the Green River. The general chorus being such that Carson was confident the thief was making for California a long distance away. As the fugitive was well mounted and all his horses were fleet, and as he must have been quite certain he would be pursued, he lost no time on the road. The trail showed he was going at a full gallop and under the most favorable circumstances the chase was sure to be a long one. END OF CHAPTER VIII. CHAPTER IX. OF THE LIFE OF Kit Carson by Edward S. Ellis. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Everything now depended on speed. Not only was the dusky thief pushing his animals to the utmost, but Kit Carson knew he would give them little rest night or day. He was familiar with the route to California and the pursuit would be no child's play. There could be no doubt, however, of the destination of the red skin, and Carson and his brave warrior were equally persistent with their horses. The ground flew beneath their hoofs, across the stretch of prairie, along the bank of the rushing streams, around the rocks, over mountains, through torrents they forced their way, with no thought of turning back or checking the speed of their animals. Occasionally the bright eyes of the pursuers glanced at the ground in front, when the displaced gravel or the indentation in the soft earth showed they had not lost the trail. In this headlong fashion the friends galloped forward until they had placed a full hundred miles behind them. They were a long distance from home and camp, but in spite of the speed of the fugitive, Carson was confident they had gained considerably upon him. If everything went well they ought to catch sight of him on the tomorrow. At this juncture when the prospect was so encouraging and unlooked for calamity occurred. Carson Steed stood the great strain admirably, but the one bestowed by the Indian succumbed. He suddenly slackened his pace, staggered and trembled so violently that when the warrior leaped from his back he saw he was fearfully ill. If he did not die he would not recover for hours and even then could not be forced hard. Carson contemplated the situation with dismay. He had not counted on anything like this, and the help of the Indian was beyond all price to him. He was unusually strong, active and experienced, and would not hesitate to attack any person single handed. Seeing the condition of the exhausted Steed, Kip proposed to the dusky companion that he should abandon him and continue the pursuit on foot, but the brave shook his head. He was equal to the exploit of running ten or twenty miles at a high pace, but a great deal more was likely to be required, and he needed all his powers when the shock of the battle should come. He not only refused to continue the chase, but knowing the character of the thief tried to dissuade Carson from going further. They had certainly done all that could be asked of them, and no one could find fault if in the face of such difficulty they should withdraw and return to their friends. No, said Carson. I have set out to recover those horses and nothing shall turn me back. I am sorry to lose you, but it can't be helped, so good-bye and good luck attend you. And putting spurs to his Steed he dashed over the trail with compressed lips and flashing eyes, determined on running down the fugitive if he had to follow him to the bank of the Pacific itself. This single act of the famous mountaineer shows his character in its true light. In the first place it must be remembered that Kip Carson was a man of slight figure and was never noted for his strength. Many of his companions were much more powerful, though none was so quick and active in his movements. His wonderful success lay in his coolness, agility, skill and bravery which never overleaped itself. As we have stated he was below the medium stature and never could have attained a tithe of his renown had his muscular strength formed a necessary part of his requirements. On the other hand the Indian thief whom he was pursuing was exceptionally powerful, athletic, and one of the most desperate men on the whole frontier. He cared nothing for Carson, nor for any single member of the company he had left. He would expect pursuit and would be on the watch for it. Whenever he caught sight of those who were seeking him he would not abandon the horses and flee, far from it. He would stand his ground and if his booty should be rested from him the men who did it would be compelled to the fiercest kind of fight. He would not run from the attack of two or three persons, much less from one of the most insignificant men in the entire company. The course of Carson illustrated another market feature of his character, that of loyalty to his friends and resolution in carrying through any task he undertook. Where scarcely one man in a multitude would have pushed forward he advanced without hesitation. He deliberately resolved to attack a fierce criminal who was as fully armed as he, as daring and perfect in his knowledge of woodcraft and much his superior in strength. Carson had proven the metal of his steed and he now showed him no mercy. The trail indicated he was gaining rapidly and he was anxious to force matters to an issue before night. Among the horses the Indian was running off were one or two whose endurance was less than the others. Their tardiness moderated the pace of the rest and thus gave Kidd a chance of lessening the distance between him and the fugitive. At the end of the ten miles he scanned the ground in front but nothing was seen off the thief or his horses. But the hoof prints were fresh and the scout knew he was closer to him than at any time since the chase began. The flanks of his steed shone with perspiration and froth but it would not do to lag now. The lips were compressed and the gray eyes flashed fire as before. Ten more miles were speedily thrown behind him and he knew he was not far from the dusky desperado who doubtless was continually glancing backward in quest-off pursuers. But the keen vision which swept around every portion of the visible horizon discovered no sign of the thief. Carson anticipated some attempt on the part of the fugitive to confuse pursuit and he therefore watched the hoof prints more closely than ever. The eagle eye continually glanced from the ground to the country in front and then to the right and left. Nothing escaped his vision but when his foamy steed had thundered over another ten miles the fugitive was still beyond sight. He can't be far off was the thought of Carson. I'm bound to overtake him before long. At that moment he caught sight of the Indian galloping leisurely forward amid the stolen horses. The cunning savage as the scout had suspected was constantly on the alert and detected Carson the same moment that he himself was discovered. Quick as a flash he leaped from the back of his horse and started on a swift run for a clump of trees between him and his pursuer. The latter understood his purpose on the instant. If the Indian could secure the shelter of the grove he would have his enemy at his mercy, for not only would he be able to protect his body while loading and firing but Carson himself being in an open space would be without the slightest protection against his deadly aim. Carson cocked his rifle and driving his furs into the flanks of his high-spirited steed charged at full speed for the same shelter. Whoever should reach it first would be the master. The Indian had much less distance to run and was as fleet of foot as a deer. He bounded forward with such tremendous strides that while the horseman was still some distance away he plunged in among the trees. But for the last few seconds the foes had approached each other at a terrific pace a result that was not only inevitable but desirable to the pursuer. The very second the savage arrived on the margin of the grove he made a leap for the nearest tree from behind which he meant to shoot his enemy. But in the very act of doing so he was smitten by his bullet. Without checking his animal in the slightest Carson had aimed and fired. The death-screech of the savage rang out as he leaped in the air and tumbled prostrate to the earth killed by the shot that was unerring in its accuracy. The Indian himself was so near firing his gun that his peace was also discharged the ball whizzing harmlessly above the head of his pursuer. A couple of seconds delay on the part of Carson must have proved fatal to him. For the savage was a good marksman and was standing still with such a brief space intervening that he could not have missed. It is hard to conceive of any escape more narrow than that of the daring mountaineer. End of Chapter 9 Chapter 10 of The Life of Kit Carson by Edward S. Ellis This Libervox recording is in the public domain. Carson gathered the horses together and set out on his return. The distance was considerable and he was compelled to encamp more than once on the road, while he was continually exposed to attack from Indians, but with that remarkable skill and foresight which distinguished him when a boy, he reached home without the slightest mishap and turned over the recovered animals to their owner. Some days later several trappers entered camp with the statement that a large body of hunters were on Snake River, a fortnight's journey distant. Captain Lee at once set out with his men and found the company who gave them a warm welcome. They purchased all the supplies Captain Lee had for sale, and then, as Carson's engagement with the Captain was ended, he attached himself to the other body. He remained, however, only a few weeks, for he saw there were so many that they could never take enough peltries to bring much money to the individual members. He decided to do as he had done before. Arrange an expedition off his own. He had but to make known his intentions when he had more applicants than he could accept. He selected three, who it is needless to say had no superiors in the whole party. The little company then turned the heads of their horses toward Laramie River. At that day the section abounded with beaver, and although the summer is not the time when their fur is in the best condition, the party trapped on the stream and its tributaries until cold weather set in. They met with far greater success than could have come to them had they stayed with the principal company of trappers. But they had no wish to spend the winter alone in the mountains, and gathering their stock together they set out to rejoin their old companions. One day after they had gone into camp, Carson, leaving his horse in charge of his friends, set out on foot to hunt some game for the evening mill. They had seen no signs of the Indians, though they never forgot to be on their guard against them. Game was not very abundant, and Carson was obliged to go a long ways before he caught sight of some elk grazing on the side of a hill. Well aware of the difficulty of getting within gunshot of the timid animals, the hunter advanced by a circuitous course toward a clump of trees, which would give him the needed shelter. But while creeping toward the point he had fixed upon as the one from which to fire, the creature scented danger and began moving off. This compelled him to fire at long range, but he was successful and brought down the finest of the group. The smoke was curling upward from the rifle of Carson when he was startled by a tremendous crashing beside him, and turning his head he saw two enormous grizzly bears, making for him at full speed. They were infuriated at this invasion of their home and were evidently resolved on teaching the hunter better manners by making their supper upon him. Carson had no time to reload his gun. Had it been given him he would have made short work of one of the brutes at least, but as it was he was deprived of even that privilege. Fortunate indeed would he be if he could escape their fury. The grizzly bear is the most dreaded animal found on this continent. He does not seem to fill the slightest fear of the hunter, no matter whether armed or not, and while other beasts are disposed to give man a wide berth, old Ephraim, as the frontiersmen call him, always seems eager to attack him. His tenacity of life is extraordinary. Unless pierced in the head or heart he will continue his struggles after a dozen or score of rifle balls have been buried in his body. So terrible is the grizzly bear that an Indian can be given no higher honor than the privilege of wearing a necklace made from his claws. That distinction being permitted only to those who have slain one of the animals in single-handed combat. No one understood the nature of these beasts better than Kit Carson, and he knew that if either of the animals once got his claws upon him there would not be the faintest chance of escape. The only thing therefore that could be done was to run. There were not wanting men who were flee to a foot than Carson, but few could have overtaken him when he made for the trees on which all his hopes depended. Like the blockade-runner, closely pursued by the man of war, he threw overboard all the cargo that could impede his speed. His long, heavy rifle was flung aside, and the short legs of the trapper doubled under him with amazing quickness as he strove as never before to reach the grove. Fortunately the latter was not far off, and though the fierce beasts gained rapidly upon him Carson arrived among the timber a few steps in advance. He had no time even to select the tree, else he would have chosen a different one. But making a flying leap he grasped the lowermost limb and swung upward at the moment the foremost grizzly was beneath him. So close in truth was his pursuer that the hunter distinctly felt the sweeping blow of his paw aimed at the leg which whisked beyond his reach just in the nick of time. But the danger was not over by any means. The enthusiastic style in which the bears entered into the proceedings proved they did not mean that any trifles should stop them. They were able to climb the tree which supported Carson, and he did not lose sight of the fact. Wipping out his hunting-knife he hurriedly cut off a short, thick branch and trimmed it into a shape that would have made a most excellent chaleli for a native of the Green Isle. He had hardly done so when the heads of the Bruins were thrust upward almost against his feet. Carson grasped the club with both hands, and raising it above his shoulders brought it down with all his might upon the nose of the foremost. The brute sniffed with pain, threw up his head, and drew back a few inches, just enough to place the other nose in front. At that instant a resounding whack landed on the rubber snout, and the second bear must have felt a twinge all through his body. Though each blow caused the recipient to recoil, yet he instantly returned, so that Carson was kept busy pounding the noses as if he was an old-fashioned farmer threshing wheat with a flail. It was a question with Carson which would last the longer, the club or the snouts, but in the hope of getting beyond their reach he climbed to the topmost bow where he crouched into the smallest possible space. It was idle, however, to hope they would overlook him, for they pushed on up the tree which swayed with their weight. The nose of the grizzly bear is one of the most sensitive portions of his body, and the vigorous thumps which the hunter brought down upon them brought tears of pain to their eyes. But while they suffered they were roused to fury by the repeated rebuffs, and seemed all the more set on crunching the flesh and bones of the insignificant creature who defied them. It must have been exasperating beyond imagination to the gigantic beasts who feared neither man nor animal to find themselves repeatedly baffled by a miserable being whom they could rend to pieces with one blow off their paws, provided they could approach nigh enough to reach him. They came up again and again. They would draw back so as to avoid those stinging strokes, sniff, growl, and push upward, more eager than ever to clutch the poor fellow who was compressing himself between the limb and the trunk, and reigning his blows with the persistency of a pugilist. They were finally forced to desist for a few minutes in order to give their snouts time to regain their tone. The bulky creatures looked at each other and seemed to say, That's a mighty queer customer up there. He doesn't fight fairly, but we'll fetch him yet. Once more and for the last time they returned to the charge. But the plucky scout was awaiting them, and his club whizzed through the air like the piston rod of a steam engine. The grizzlies found it more than they could stand, and tumbling back to solid earth they gave up the contract in disgust. Carson terried where he was, until they were beyond sight, when he descended and hastily caught up and reloaded his rifle, having escaped, as he always declared, by the narrowest chance of all his life. Drawing to a close when Carson set out for camp, which was not reached until after dark, his companions did not feel any special alarm over his continued absence, for the good reason that they were confident he could take care of himself, no matter in what labyrinth of peril he might become involved. It was too late to send for the carcass of the elk, and more than likely it had already been devoured by wolves, so the trappers made their breakfast on one of the beavers found in their traps, and went into camp to await the arrival of the main body of trappers, which Carson was confident would come that way. Some days later they put in an appearance, and the company proceeded to the general rendezvous on Green River, where were found to symbol the principal trappers of the Rocky Mountains. There were fully two hundred divided into two camps, what a history could have been written from the thrilling experiences of such a body of men. They had gathered at the rendezvous to buy what supplies they needed, and to dispose of their peltries. It was several weeks before the negotiations were over when the assemblage broke up into smaller companies which started for their destinations hundreds of miles apart. Carson joined a party numbering about fifty who intended to trap near the headwaters of the Missouri. Hundreds of beavers had been taken in that section, but poor success went with a large band of which Carson was a member. That was bad enough, but they were in a neighborhood which, it may be said, was the very heart of the Blackfoot country, and those hostels were never more active and vigilant in their warfare against the invaders. The Blackfeet, or Setsitska today, are the most westerly tribe of the Algonquin family of Indians, extending from the Hudson Bay to the Missouri and Yellowstone. They number over twelve thousand warriors about equally divided between Montana and British America. They have always been a daring and warlike people, and the early explorers of the far west probably met with more trouble from them than from any other tribe on the continent. Carson and his companions ran in difficulty at once. The Blackfeet seemed to swarm through the woods and send in their treacherous shots from the most unexpected quarters. Whoever made the round of the traps in the morning was almost certain to be fired upon. Matters became so bad that after a time the trappers decided to leave the country. Accordingly they made their way to the Big Snake River where they went into quarters for the winter. Even there they were not safe from a less station at the hands of their old enemies, the Blackfeet. One night, when there was no moon or stars, a band of warriors stole into camp and ran off about twenty of the best horses. This outrage touched the hunters in the most sensitive part of their nature, and the truth no sooner became known than they unanimously agreed that the animals not only should be recovered, but the audacious aggressors should be chastised. Twelve men were selected for the most difficult and dangerous task, and need we give the name of the youth who was made the leader? With his usual promptness Carson took the trail which was followed without trouble over the snow. The Blackfeet had reason to fear some such demonstration, and they hurried off with such speed that they were not overtaken until fifty miles from camp. The situation was a novel one. The Indians had come to a halt and the horses were grazing on the side of a hill where the wind had blown away the snow. The Blackfeet had on snowshoes which gave them an advantage over the trappers. The latter galloped in the direction of their horses the moment they caught sight of them. The Blackfeet fired at the trappers, who returned to scattering volley, but no one was heard on either side. Then followed skirmishing and maneuvering for several minutes, without either party gaining advantage. Finally the Blackfeet asked for a parley to which the trappers assented. In accordance with the usual custom one of the Indians advanced to a point midway between the two parties and halted. At the same time one of the trappers went forward, the rest of the whites and red men keeping their distance and watching them. The Blackfeet opened business by what might be termed an apology which was no more genuine than many made by his civilized brethren under somewhat similar circumstances. He expressed great surprise to learn that the horses belonged to their good friends the trappers. They had supposed all along that they were the property of the Snake Indians whom the Blackfeet considered it their duty to despoil on every suitable occasion. This glaring misrepresentation did not deceive the man who was acting as spokesman for his side. By way of reply he asked that if such was the case why had not the Blackfeet come forward on discovering their mistake, greeted their white brothers as friends and returned their property to them. The replies were evasive and the hunters became convinced that the Indians were seeking to gain time for some sinister purpose. But a full parley having been agreed upon both parties left their guns behind and advanced to where the representatives were holding their interview. The Blackfeet still professed the most ardent friendship and as an emphatic token of the same produced the conument and began smoking the pipe of peace. The tobacco having been lit each took several whiffs and then passed it to his neighbor who did the same until the round was completed. This solemn pledge of goodwill having been exchanged, the convention or peace congress was opened as it may be said, in due and ancient form. Carson and his companions were distrustful from the start though it was hard for them to decide the meaning of the prolonged negotiations since no one could see what the Blackfeet were to gain by such a course. They may have hoped to deceive the hunters and throw them off their guard, but if such was the case they failed. First of all the leading warriors indulged in several long speeches which were without point, but what was said in reply could admit of no doubt as to its meaning. The trappers understood the Blackfoot tongue well enough to make their responses models in the way of brevity and force. They said that it was idle to talk a friendship or a peace until the stolen property was returned to its owners. The Indians still attempted to postpone or evade, but the complainants were in no mood for trifling and they repeated their declaration more positively than before. The Blackfeet were much more numerous than the Whites and confident of their strength began to bluster and to assert that whatever they did would be dictated by their own wishes and not by any fear of their visitors. Whether they desired to avoid a fight or not can only be conjectured, but they finally sent back to where the horses were tethered and caused five of the worst to be picked out and brought forward. When the trappers inquired the meaning of this proceeding the Indians said that it was the best they could do and the hunters must be content. This last insult was the spark which exploded the magazine. Only every white man ran for his gun and the Blackfeet did the same. A few seconds after they willed about and the sanguinary fight began. Kit Carson and a companion were the first to obtain their guns and as a consequence they led the advance. Each selected a warrior who was partially hidden by the trunk of a tree. Carson was in the act of firing when he observed that his friend was examining the lock of his gun, all unmindful of the fact that one of the Blackfeet had levelled his weapon directly at his breast. On the instant Kit changed his aim and shot the savage dead, thereby saving the life of his friend, who could not have escaped had the weapon of his adversary been discharged. He transferred the peril of his friend to himself for the Indian whom he had selected for his target was carefully sighting at him. At the very moment the gun was discharged. Kit saw what was coming and bounded to one side in the hope of dodging the bullet. Quick as he was, however, he did not entirely succeed, though the act doubtless saved his life. The ball from the rifle of his adversary grazed his neck and buried itself in his shoulder, shattering the head of one of the bones. Carson, though badly hurt, did not fall or retreat. On the contrary, he tried desperately to reload his gun, but found it impossible to raise his arm. He was ordered to combat, beyond all question, and bleeding so fast that his weakness compelled him to lie down on the ground while the conflict went on about him. The fight was very hot for a time, the result being what may be called a drawn battle, with the advantage in climbing to the side of the Indians. The trappers fell back to the safest place that presented itself and went into camp. They dared not start a fire, for they knew it would bring an attack from the Indians, but, wrapping their saddle-blankets around them, they bore the intense cold as best they could. The sufferings of Carson were great. His wounds continued bleeding and froze upon the dressings, which were of the most primitive character, and yet not once through those hours of anguish did he utter a word of complaint. Many a strong man would have cried out in his agony, but one might have sat within arm's length of the mountaineer without knowing he was hurt at all. More than that, Carson took his part in the council which was held in the cold and darkness. The conclusion reached was that the party of trappers were not strong enough to pursue the black feet, and the proper course to pursue was to rejoin the main body and report what had been done. It would then be time enough to decide upon their future action. When this program was carried out, a larger party of hunters under the lead of an experienced mountaineer resumed the pursuit, but nothing could be found of the savages. They had utilized the grace allowed them so well that it was impossible to overtake or trace them, and the indignant trappers were obliged to submit to their loss. The severe cold moderated, and as spring was close at hand, the hunters pushed their trapping operations along the green and snake rivers, meeting with unbounded success. They gathered more peltries than they had dared to hope for, and when warm weather approached, went into quarters where they remained until the following fall, a party of traitors having brought them all the supplies they needed. The rugged constitution of Carson and his temperate habits caused him speedily to recover from his severe wound. He again became the active, vigilant, keen-witted guide and hunter who was looked up to by all as the most consummate master of wood-craft that had ever been known in the West. Such a large party as were gathered at the summer rendezvous was certain to include many varieties of people. The frank, brave and open-hearted, the slight and treacherous, the considerate and courteous, the quarrelsome and overbearing, indeed the temperaments of the individuals composing the company were as varied as it is possible to imagine. Among them was a powerful Frenchman known as Captain Shunan. He had won his title by hard fighting, possessed a magnificent physique, was brave and skilled in the use of arms, and was the most quarrelsome individual in camp. It is impossible to picture a more erasable and disagreeable personage than Captain Shunan, who appeared to spend all his time in trying to provoke quarrels with those around him. Sometimes he succeeded, but more often his insolence was submitted to by men as brave as he, but who wished to avoid trouble with him. The activity and strength of the Frenchman were so great that a skillful pugilist would have found difficulty in handling him. The only ground upon which he could be met with anything like fairness was where firearms were used. On one of these occasions the bully became unbearable in his behavior. He knocked down several weak and inoffensive persons, and swaggered back and forth through camp boasting that he could trounce any one there. In the midst of his bluster, Carson walked up in front of him and said in a voice loud enough to be heard by those around. Captain Shunan, there are plenty here who can easily chastise you, but they prefer to submit to your impudence for the sake of peace. However, we have had enough and now I notify you to stop at once or I shall kill you. These were astounding words, and as may be supposed, when uttered by a man six inches shorter and many pounds lighter than the blustering captain, they fairly took away his breath. Carson spoke in his quiet, soft voice as though there was not the least cause for excitement. But those who knew him noted the flash of his clear gray eye and understood his deadly earnestness. Captain Shunan was infuriated by the words of Carson. As soon as he could recover himself he turned about and without speaking a word walked to his quarters. Kit did not need to be told what that meant. He did the same, walking to his own lodge from which he speedily emerged holding a single barrel pistol. He was so anxious to be on the ground in time that he caught up the first weapon that presented itself. Almost at the same moment Captain Shunan appeared with his rifle. Carson observed him, and though he could have secured without difficulty a similar weapon he did not do so. He was willing to give his burly antagonist the advantage if it should prove such. The other trappers as may be supposed watched the actions of the two men with breathless interest. The quarrel had taken such a course that they were convinced that one or the other of the combatants would be killed. Captain Shunan had been so loud in his boasts that he did not dare swallow the insult put on him by the fragile Kit Carson. Had he done so he would have been hooted out of camp and probably lynched. Thus for Kit his courage was beyond suspicion. He feared no man and was sure to acquit himself creditably no matter in what circumstances he was placed. He was the most popular member of the large company while his antagonist was the most detested. But the love of fair play was such that no one would interfere no matter how great the need for doing so. The duelist as they may be called mounted each his horse and circling about the plane speedily headed toward each other and dashed forward on a dead run. As they approached they reigned up and halted face to face within arms length. Licking his antagonist straight in the eye Carson demanded. Are you looking for me? Have you any business with me? No. Groud the savage Frenchman. But while the words were in his mouth brought his rifle to his shoulder and pointing it at the breast of Carson pulled the trigger. But Kit expected some such treacherous act and before the gun could be fired he threw up his pistol and discharged it as may be said across the barrel of the leveled weapon. The ball broke the forearm of Captain Shunan at the very moment he discharged his gun. The shock diverted the aim so that the bullet grazed his scalp inflicting a trifling wound. But the combatants were so close that the powder of the rifle scorched the face of the mountaineer. Captain Shunan had been badly worsted and was disabled for weeks afterwards. He accepted his fate without complaint and was effectually cured of his overbearing manner toward his associates.