 24 Of the Life of Kit Carson by Edward S. Ellis. We had hard and doubtful labor yet before us as the snow appeared to be heavier where the timber began further down with few open spots. Ascending a height we traced out the best line we could discover for the next day's march and had at least the consolation to see that the mountain descended rapidly. The day had been one of April, gusty with a few occasional flakes of snow, which in the afternoon enveloped the upper mountains in clouds. We watched them anxiously as now we dreaded a snowstorm. Shortly afterwards we heard a roll of thunder and looking toward the valley found it all enveloped in a thunderstorm. For us, as connected with the idea of summer it had a singular charm and we watched its progress with excited feelings until nearly sunset, when the sky cleared off brightly and we saw a shining line of water directing its course towards another, a broader and larger sheet. We knew that these could be no other than the Sacramento and the Bay of San Francisco, but after our long wandering in rugged mountains where so frequently we had met with disappointments and where the crossing of every ridge displayed some unknown lake or river, we were yet almost afraid to believe that we were at last to escape into the genial country of which we have heard so many glowing descriptions and dreaded again to find some vast interior lake whose bitter waters would bring us disappointment. On the southern shore of what appeared to be the bay could be traced the gleaming line where entered another large stream and again the Buena Ventura rose up in our mind. Carson had entered the valley along the southern side of the bay, but the country then was so entirely covered with water from snow and rain that he had been able to form no correct impression of water courses. We had the satisfaction to know that at least there were people below. Fires were lit up in the valley just at night, appearing to be an answer to ours, and these signs of life renewed in some measure the gaiety of the camp. They appeared so near that we judged them to be among the timber of some of the neighboring ridges, but having them constantly in view day after day and night after night we afterwards found them to be fires that had been kindled by the Indians among the two flares on the shore of the bay eighty miles distant. Axes and molls were necessary today to make a row through the snow. Going ahead with Carson to reconorder the road we reached in the afternoon the river which made the outlet off the lake. Carson sprang over, clear across a place where the stream was compressed among rocks, but the parflesh, soul of my moccasin glanced from the icy rock and precipitated me into the river. It was some few seconds before I could recover myself in the current, and Carson, thinking me hurt, jumped in after me, and we both had an icy bath. We tried to search a while for my gun which had been lost in the fall, but the cold drove us out, and making a large fire on the bank after we had partially dried ourselves we went back to meet the camp. We afterwards found that the gun had been slung under the ice which lined the banks off the creek. The sky was clear and pure with a sharp wind from the northeast and the thermometer twenty below the freezing point. We continued down the south face of the mountain, our road leading over dry ground we were able to avoid the snow almost entirely. In the course of the morning we struck a footpath which we were generally able to keep, and the ground was soft to our animals' feet being sandy or covered with mold. Green grass began to make its appearance, and occasionally we passed a hill scatteringly covered with it. The character of the forest continued the same, and among the trees the pine with sharp leaves and very large combs was abundant, some of them being noble trees. We measured one that had ten feet diameter, though the height was not more than one hundred and thirty feet. All along the river was a roaring torrent, its fall very great, and descending with a rapidity to which we had long been strangers, to our great pleasure oak trees appeared on the ridge, and soon became very frequent. On these I remarked unusually great quantities of mistletoe. The opposite mountainside was very steep and continuous, unbroken by ravines and covered with pines and snow. While on the side we were traveling innumerable rivulets poured down from the ridge. Continuing on we halted a moment at one of these rivulets to admire some beautiful evergreen trees, resembling live oak which shaded the little stream. They were forty to fifty feet high and two in diameter with a uniform tufted top, and the summer green of their beautiful foliage with the singing birds and the sweet summer wind which was whirling about the dry oak leaves nearly intoxicated us with delight. And we hurried on, filled with excitement, to escape entirely from the horrid region of inhospitable snow to the perpetual spring of the Sacramento. February 25th. Believing that the difficulties of the road were passed and leaving with its patrick to follow slowly, as the condition of the animals required, I started ahead this morning with a party of eight, consisting, with myself, of Mr. Pruse and Mr. Talbot, Carson, Derosier, Townes, Prue, and Jacob. We took with us some of the best animals and my intention was to proceed as rapidly as possible to the house of Mr. Sutter and return to meet the party with a supply of provisions and fresh animals. Near nightfall we descended into the steep ravine of a handsome creek thirty feet wide and I was engaged in getting the horses up the opposite hill when I heard a shout from Carson who had gone ahead a few hundred yards. Life yet, said he as he came up, life yet. I have found a hillside sprinkled with grass enough for the night. We drove along our horses and encamped at the place about dark and there was just room enough to make a place for shelter on the edge of the stream. Three horses were lost to day. Provo, a fine young horse from the Columbia belonging to Charles Townes, and another Indian horse which carried our cooking utensils. The two former gave out and the latter strayed off into the woods as we reached the camp. And Derosier, knowing my attachment to Provo, volunteered to go and bring him in. Carson and I climbed one of the nearest mountains. The forest land still extended ahead and the valley appeared as far as ever. The pack horse was found near the camp, but Derosier did not get in. We began to be uneasy at Derosier's absence fearing he might have been bewildered in the woods. Charles Townes, who had not yet recovered his mind, went to swim in the river as if it was summer and the stream placid when it was a cold mountain torrent foaming among the rocks. We were happy to see Derosier appear in the evening. He came in and sitting down by the fire began to tell us where he had been. He imagined he had been gone several days and thought we were still at the camp where he had left us and we were pained to see that his mind was deranged. It appeared that he had been lost in the mountain and hunger and fatigue joined to weakness of body and fear of perishing in the mountains had crazed him. The times were severe when stout men lost their minds from extremity of suffering. When horses died and when mules and horses ready to die of starvation were killed for food. Yet there was no murmuring or hesitation. In the meantime Mr. Proust continued on down the river and unaware that we had encamped so early in the day was lost. When night arrived and he did not come in we began to understand what had happened to him but it was too late to make any search. March 3. We followed Mr. Proust's trail for a considerable distance along the river until we reached a place where he had descended to the stream below and encamped. Here we shouted and fired guns but received no answer and we concluded that he had pushed on down the stream. I determined to keep out from the river along which it was nearly impracticable to travel with animals until it should form a valley. At every step the country improved in beauty and pines were rapidly disappearing and oaks became the principal trees off the forest. Among these the prevailing tree was the evergreen oak which by way of distinction we shall call the live oak. And with these occurred frequently a new species of oak bearing a long slender acorn from an inch to an inch and a half in length which we now began to see form the principal vegetable food of the inhabitants of this region. In a short distance we crossed a little rivulet where were two old huts and nearby were heaps of acorn hulls. The ground round about was very rich covered with an exuberant swat of grass and we sat down for a while in the shade of the oaks to let the animals feed. We repeated our shouts for Mr. Proust and this time we were gratified with an answer. The voice grew rapidly nearer ascending from the river but when we expected to see him emerge it ceased entirely. We had called up some straggling Indian, the first we had met, although for two days back we had seen tracks, who, mistaking us for his fellows, had been only undeceived by getting close up. It would have been pleasant to witness his astonishment. He would not have been more frightened had some of the old mountain spirits they are so much afraid of suddenly appeared in his path. Ignorant of the character of these people we had now additional cause of uneasiness in regard to Mr. Proust. He had no arms with him and we began to think his chance doubtful. Occasionally we met a deer but had not the necessary time for hunting. At one of these orchard grounds we encamped about noon to make an effort for Mr. Proust. One man took his way along a spur leading into the river in hope to cross his trail and another took our own back. Both were volunteers and to the successful man was promised a pair of pistols. Not as a reward but as a token of gratitude for a service which would free us off from much anxiety. At the end of four days Mr. Proust surprised and delighted his friends by walking into camp. He had lived on roots and acorns and was in the last stages of exhaustion. Shortly the advance party reached Sutter's Fort where they received the most hospitable treatment. All their wants were abundantly supplied and provisions were sent back to Fitzpatrick and his party. End of Chapter 24 Chapter 25 of the Life of Kit Carson by Edward S. Ellis. This Lubrivox recording is in the public domain. Fremont and his command remained at Sutter's Fort about a month when their preparations were completed for their return to the States. They journeyed leisurely up the valley of the San Joaquin crossing over the Sierra Nevada and coast range by means of an easily traveled pass. The latter chain was followed until they came upon the Spanish trail along which they passed to the Mojave River. Where the trail diverges from that stream Carson became involved in a characteristic adventure. While in camp two Mexicans, a man and a boy, rode up and told a sad story. They belonged to a party of Mexican traders from New Mexico. Six of them, including two women, had acted as cooks, were left in charge of a band of horses while the rest were away, engaged in barter. When endeavoring to find better grazing for their animals and while the man and the boy were on guard, they were attacked by a band of thirty Indians. The warriors were after the horses and their first demonstration was a flight of arrows. The only chance of escape was to make off with the animals and the two started them on a dead run straight toward the Indians. The charge was so impetuous that they forced their way through and continued their flight while the warriors remained behind to massacre the others. When the couple had gone a long distance, they left the horses and turned back to look for their friends. While they were doing so, they came upon Fremont's camp. When it is added that among those who were left behind by the Mexicans were the wife of the man and the father and mother of the boy, their pitiful situation must touch the hearts of all. They were overcome with grief and Carson was so stirred that he volunteered to go back with the couple and help rescue their friends if alive, or punish the Indians if it should prove that they had been massacred. Richard Godet, a Mountaineer almost equal with Carson, willingly agreed to accompany him. The two were perfectly familiar with the country, which was an immense advantage. When the Mexicans described the spring a long way distant where they had abandoned the horses to hunt for their friends, Carson recalled its exact location. It was about thirty miles away and he said that that was the point toward which they must push with all speed. Accordingly, they turned the heads of their horses thither and struck into a sweeping gallop, resting only when compelled to do so, and reaching the spring at daylight the next morning. Not a horse was visible, but an examination of the ground showed that the Indians had followed the fleeing Mexicans and stalked to the spring, where, finding the animals, they had captured and driven them off in another direction. It seems like a piece of madness for three men to pursue ten times as many Indian warriors. But the blood of Carson was up and he told Godet was too soon for them to turn back. The eyes of both flashed when they reflected upon the shameful outrage and they meant that the marauder should not get off scot-free. As the boy was only an encumbrance he was left behind, and taking the trail of the warriors, the three put their horses to their best, confident the chase would be a long one. On such occasions the red men are accustomed to travel a long distance before making a halt. With so much booty in their hands they were liable to be set upon by others, as savage as themselves, and they had every cause therefore to get out of the country with the least possible delay. The three were riding in this furious fashion when most unexpectedly the steed of the Mexican gave out. A menics examination showed he was as thoroughly used up and useless as the horse of the Ute Indian years before, who started out with Kit to pursue the thief who was running off with the animals. There was no course but to leave the Mexican behind, for time was too precious to ride back to camp after another horse. He therefore was told to go back to Fremont's camp and await their return. The exploit of Carson and Godet, when calmly told, seems incredible. There was no one in Fremont's command who would go with them, and though they knew there were a score and a half of savage wild men to encounter, they did not hesitate, but pressed their steeds to the utmost, eager to join in the fierce hand-to-hand conflict. When night shut in upon them the Indians were not in sight, and the signs indicated they were a good many miles ahead. There was no moon or stars, and they could see only a few feet in advance of their horse's ears. But it would not do to linger. If they should go into camp they would lose so much ground that pursuit was likely to be hopeless. Accordingly they dismounted, and leading their steeds continued the pursuit on foot. Where it was impossible to see the ground they depended on the sense of feeling. Quite certain of the general direction taken by the red men they occasionally stooped down and passed their hands over the earth. The trail was so distinct that it could be readily detected in this manner, provided they had not gone astray. Several times they wandered to the right or left, but found their way back without difficulty, and the chase was continued for several hours in this singular fashion. After a time the trail became so fresh that it could be readily detected and no doubt was left in their minds that they were close upon the marauders. Inasmuch as Carson and Godet had pushed their horses to the utmost, and they were showing signs of weariness, they concluded, in view of these facts, to halt and wait until daylight. The night was unusually cold, but they dared not start a fire lest it should apprise their enemies of their presence. So they suffered in silence, miserable, wretched, and as uncomfortable as it was possible to be, while waiting for the growing light in the east. When at last warning appeared they were so chilled that they could hardly walk, but making their way to the bottom of a ravine they kindled a fire, and with the help of some violent exercise managed to start their blood in circulation. In a very brief time their horses were resaddled and they were galloping along the trail again. Within an hour they caught sight of the Indians and the stolen animals. The warriors were in camp and were enjoying a breakfast of horsemeat, several of the stock having been killed to furnish the food. Before the Indians could detect their pursuers the latter dismounted and hid their steeds where they were not likely to attract notice. They then started to crawl in among the stolen animals which were grazing a short distance from camp. This was an exceedingly delicate task, for the horses were likely to give the alarm even if the warriors did not detect their presence. But patience and skill succeeded, and after a time they were among the drove. But the very thing they dreaded took place. They had scarcely reached the animals when one of them became frightened by the appearance of the strangers and began rearing and snorting. This caused such confusion among the others that the Indians became alarmed and sprang to their feet. Carson and Gaudet emitted a series of yells that must have made the red men envious and dashed at full speed toward the thirty Indians. The moment they were within range both fired. Carson killed his man but Gaudet missed. The latter reloaded with great quickness and fired again bringing down his man. Meanwhile the warriors were thrown into a sort of panic by the amazing audacity of their assailants. They could not have suspected the truth. That is that no others were near. They must have believed that a strong reserve was close at hand and that if they tarried in camp they would be overwhelmed by a party of Avengers. Accordingly they broke and ran leaving the daring Mountaineers masters of the field. In accordance with the savage spirit of the border Gaudet scalped the two Indians who had been shot after which the horses were gathered together and driven to where the steeds of the Mountaineers had been left. But when this point was reached Carson expressed himself as not satisfied. They had not ascertained the fate of the captives and they now proceeded to do so. In the camp of the Mexicans were found the mangled bodies of the two men. These were buried by Carson and Gaudet who made search for the women. Though nothing of them was discovered it was afterwards learned that they too had been killed. Having done all that was possible Carson and Gaudet made their way back to Fremont's camp where the stolen property was turned over to the Mexicans. The daring Mountaineers refusing to accept the slightest payment for their extraordinary services. CHAPTER XXVI. THE EXPLORING PARTY REACHED BENT'S FORT JULY SECOND, 1844. The labours were considered finished and bidding his old commander goodbye Carson made his way to Taos where he had a most happy reunion with his family. He was cordially welcomed by hundreds of old friends who had learned years before the rare courage and worth of the man and who were proud to possess such a neighbor. Carson had led a wild and adventurous career and after talking much with those in whom he had confidence he decided to adopt the life of a farmer. In this conclusion he was joined by Richard Owens, an old Mountaineer and an intimate associate for many years. It did not take them long to fix upon a desirable site and in the spring of 1845 stock and animals were bought, building commenced and everything was fairly under way. At the moment when the scarred Mountaineers were counting with pleasure on the complete arrangements made an express messenger galloped up and handed Carson a letter. The contents were of an important character. Captain Fremont had written to notify Kitt that he had started on his third exploring expedition and inasmuch as the Mountaineer had given his promise months before that in the event of doing so he, Carson, would serve again as guide. Fremont reminded him that he should hold him to his pledge and would expect to meet him at Bents Fort on his arrival there. It was a considerable pecuniary sacrifice for Carson to keep his promise, but he never failed to do so when it was not absolutely impossible. Besides, it is fair to presume that the old life could never lose its charm for one of his disposition and contrasted with the humdrum existence of a farmer he could not have been much grieved over the reception of the message. But it must be stated that both Owens and Carson sold out at much loss and putting their affairs in the best shape possible, bade families and friends goodbye, mounted their horses and set out for Bents Fort which was safely reached some days later. There they were warmly welcomed by Fremont who had entered upon his third exploring expedition, the last under the authority of the United States government, though two others were afterwards undertaken on his own responsibility. As was to be supposed, Fremont, taking lessons from his previous experiences, was much better equipped for his third than for either of the other preceding expeditions. He had about fifty men, among them in addition to Carson and Owens, being Maxwell, the famous mountaineer Walker who was a member of Captain Bonneville's expedition to the Columbia, besides other hunters and scouts less known, but not less skillful and daring than they. We have already given tolerably full accounts of the two exploring expeditions of Fremont and it is not our purpose to narrate the particulars of the one which followed. There is the sameness in many of the occurrences, but the third time, the Pathfinder penetrated into the recesses of the far west. He became involved in a series of experiences totally different from the preceding and deeply interesting of themselves. Several months were spent on what may be called the Great Divide. That is the region where the waters flow east or west to either ocean, and in the autumn of the year they encamped on the southwestern shore of the Great Salt Lake. Before them stretched a vast arid plain to which the trappers referred with a shudder of terror. They had heard of it many a time and the common legend was that no man, white or Indian, who had ever attempted to cross it, succeeded. These stories, however, added to the eagerness of Captain Fremont to explore its secrets, and when he proposed it to his men they expressed as strong a desire as he to do so. They felt a mutual trust and confidence impossible under other circumstances. Some seventy miles away a mountain peak held out the promise of wood and water. Four men under the guidance of an Indian were sent forward to explore the place, and in the event of finding water they were instructed to apprise the watchful commander by means of the smoke from a campfire. When the second day closed without sight of the signal Fremont became so uneasy that he moved forward with the rest of the party and traveled all night. At daylight one of the smaller party approached them. He said that running water and grass existed at the mountains, but their Indian guide was wholly ignorant of the country. This was good news, and the next day the party reached the stream. Shortly after the expedition was divided into two parties, Walker, of whom mention has been made, taking charge of the larger while Fremont led the smaller. It was the purpose of Walker to pass around to the foot of the Sierra Nevada by a route with which he was familiar, while Fremont with Carson and less than a dozen men, among whom were several Delaware Indians, headed straight across the desert. While advancing over this arid tract they detected a volume of smoke rising from a ravine. Cautiously approaching they discovered an Indian warrior perfectly nude, standing by a fire and watching an earthen pot in which something was simmering. He was greatly frightened and offered them his food. They smiled, treated him kindly, and gave him several trifling presents which he received with childish delight. One of the singular incidents of the journey took place while the exploring party were making their way along the foot of the Sierras. Passing around a point on the lakeshore they unexpectedly met a dozen Indian warriors. They were walking directly behind each other in what is known as Indian file, their heads bent forward and their eyes fixed on the ground. The whites turned aside to allow them to pass, and naturally watched them with much interest. The Indians, neither halted, deviated from the path, spoke, nor looked up, but walked straightforward with their silent, measured tread until they disappeared. The explorers did not interfere with them or speak to them. Thus the representatives of the different races encountered. The division under charge of Walker joined Fremont at the appointed rendezvous, but winter was upon them. The mountains were sure to be choked with snow, and no one was familiar with the route. As a matter of prudence, therefore, Walker was directed to continue southward with the principal party, while Fremont and a few picked men pushed on directly through the Sierras to Sutter's Fort, with a view of obtaining the necessary animals and supplies. The smaller division was advancing as best it could, when a number of plainly marked trails were observed showing they were in the vicinity of some of the most notorious horse-thieves in the world. They were daring and skillful, went long distances, plundered ranches, and hastened to the mountains with their booty. The exasperated Californians often organized and went in pursuit, but it was rare they overtook the dusky thieves, and when they succeeded in doing so were invariably defeated. This sort of people were undesirable neighbors, and Fremont sent forward two Delaware's and two Mountaineers to make an investigation. They had not gone far when the company following them found the sign so threatening that they were alarmed for the scouts. A short distance further they came upon such an excellent camping site that they decided to halt for the night. End of Chapter 26 Chapter 27 of The Life of Kit Carson by Edward S. Ellis This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. While preparing to go into camp the explorers were mystified by hearing a number of peculiar sounds like the barking of dogs. Attentive listening, however, satisfied them that it came from an Indian village close by whose women and children were calling out and lamenting. This constituted positive proof that the friends in advance were in trouble with the red men and there was not a minute to lose in going to their rescue. A half-mile further the explorers galloped over a slight ridge when they suddenly came inside of several hundred Indians who were making their way up two sides off a knoll, on the crest of which the four scouts had entrenched themselves among the rocks and trees and were coolly awaiting the attack of their enemies. The little party had run so suddenly into danger that they were compelled to make a flying leap from their horses in order to secure a suitable shelter. The assailants had almost captured the abandoned horses when relief came. The two Delaware's made a dash to recover their animals, their companions shooting the foremost off the thieves. The property was saved and then all fell back to their own camp. As the Aboriginal horse thieves were so numerous, Fremont kept up an unrementing watch all through the night. Singular noises were continually heard and there could be no doubt that the women and children were retreating further into the mountains. One of the Delaware's on guard was sure he saw an Indian leap over a log and firing quickly brought him to the ground, but it proved to be a prowling wolf. None of their enemies appeared and when morning came Fremont withdrew from his perilous position. Sutter's fort was at last safely reached and the other party, having become lost, Carson was sent to find them. He succeeded with little difficulty and the companies reunited. Their course was now directed toward Monterey on the sea coast, where they were confident of securing all they needed, but before reaching the place a messenger arrived from General Castro, the Mexican commander of the territory, ordering the Americans to leave at once or they would be driven out. Fremont immediately entrenched himself and waited for the Mexicans to carry out their threat. He waited three days, and then as no attempt was made withdrew to the Sacramento, which stream was followed to Lawson's trading post, where the commander hoped to purchase the outfit for the journey homeward. Moving northward toward the Columbia they encountered an enormous force of marauding Indians with whom a fierce battle was fought. The savages were defeated and lost a large number of warriors. While in camp near Klamath Lake, two horsemen galloped up with dispatches to Fremont from Washington, forwarded by Lieutenant Gillespie of the United States Marines. This officer was making his way through the Indian country with six men as an escort when his animals began to succumb. Fearing he would not be able to intercept the captain, the Lieutenant selected two of his best men and sent them ahead with the dispatches. He begged Fremont to forward him assistance as he doubted his ability to reach him without such help. But the most startling news brought to camp was that war had been declared between the United States and Mexico. When Fremont had read his dispatches from his government he appreciated the imminent danger in which the Lieutenant was placed, and without any tearing perfected measures for his rescue. He immediately selected ten of his men, Carson as a matter of course being among them, and pushed on, with all haste, leaving directions for the rest to follow as rapidly as they could. Fremont and his little company had journeyed something over fifty miles when they met the officer and his companions. The meeting was of the happiest nature for the Lieutenant, in fact, was in greater danger than he suspected, the Indians around him being among the most treacherous of their race. Those who have been placed in a situation resembling in a slight degree that of Fremont can appreciate the interest with which he pursued the letters and papers from his distant home. After the parties had gone into camp the captain sat up till after midnight reading by the light of the campfire. Tired out at last he stretched out with his blanket about him and sank soon into heavy slumber. The night was cold and Carson and Owens, with their saddle blankets wrapped around them, lay down close to the fire. All at once Carson heard a peculiar noise as though someone had struck a quick blow with an axe. Wondering what it could mean he called to one of the mountaineers. What's the matter over there? There was no answer for the head of the poor fellow had been cleft by an axe in the hands of one of the Klamath Indians who had crept into camp. A Delaware had already been killed by the treacherous redskins that night being the second among all those spent in the West when the explorers had no sentinel on duty. Carson and Owens called out, Indians, and springing to their feet hurried away from the fire whose strong light was sure to tempt the aim of their enemies. One of the other Delaware's who leaped to his feet snatched up the nearest rifle which unfortunately was not his own and was unloaded. Unaware of the fact he tried to fire it over again and again without suspecting the cause, while a Klamath launched arrow after arrow into his body. The first penetrated his left breast and was fatal. But he bravely kept his feet trying to discharge the useless gun until four other missiles were also buried within a few inches off the first. Kit Carson had been quick to detect the danger of the brave Delaware and in the hope of saving his life he brought his unerring rifle to his shoulder. Just as his finger pressed the trigger he recollected that that, too, was unloaded. By one of those singular fatalities which sometimes occur, Carson had broken the tube the night before and left the weapon unloaded. Without trifling with it he threw it down, drew his single-barreled pistol, and ran toward the Klamath who was coolly launching his arrows into the breast of the poor Delaware. The Indian leaped from side to side so as to distract the aim of his enemies, and instead of hitting him Carson only cut the string which held a tomahawk to the warrior's arm. The Mountaineer had no other shot at command and Maxwell tried his hand but in the uncertain light inflicted only a slight wound. The Indian at that moment willed to run when one of the whites shot him dead. By this time the alarm was general and the assailants fled. There was good reason to believe that the Klamath Indians had set the snare for Lieutenant Gillespie and his escort. And it was the wonder that Fremont's command did not suffer to a greater extent. For having no sentinels on duty the warriors might have perfected their schemes in security and killed a large number. The Indian who drove five arrows into the breast of the Delaware, three of which pierced his heart, was the leader of the attacking party. He had an English half-axe slung to his wrist by a cord and forty arrows were left in his quiver. Carson pronounced them the most beautiful and warlike missiles he had ever seen. As may be supposed the explorers slept on their arms for the rest of the night but the assailants had fled. They had killed three of the explorers besides wounding another of the Delaware's who took characteristic revenge by scalping the leader that had been left where he fell. The dead were given the best burial possible. As illustrating the ingratitude and perfidy of these red men it may be stated that it was only a few days before that that they had visited Fremont's camp and though provisions were very scarce they had been given considerable food besides tobacco and a number of presents. End of Chapter 27 Chapter 28 of The Life of Kit Carson by Edward S. Ellis. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The indignation over the action of the Indians was so great that retaliatory measures were determined upon. Fremont moved around Lake Clemouth until nearly opposite where his command had been attacked. The following morning Carson and ten men were sent forward to search for the Indian village that was believed to be somewhere in the neighborhood. If the discovery could be made without detection on the part of the Indians Carson was instructed to signal to Fremont who had hastened forward with reinforcements. The mountaineer had not gone far when he struck a broad, clear trail which speedily carried him inside of a village of some fifty lodges. As it was evident that the Indians had detected their danger Carson and his companions made an impetuous attack before which the red men fled in wildest panic. A number were shot. When finding pursuit useless Carson returned to the village where all the lodges were destroyed. Because of the war with Mexico Fremont decided to return to California. On his way thither the Clemouth Indians continually dogged them and a number of collisions followed, though none was of particular moment. After suffering many hardships Lawson's fort was reached and several days were spent in hunting. While Fremont awaited instructions as to the course he was to take in the war, then going on between the United States and Mexico. As the days went by without bringing him any dispatches he wearied of inactivity and decided to assume the aggressive. Accordingly he sent a force to a Mexican military post known as Sonoma which with little trouble was taken. Fremont sent out a couple of messengers to inform the American settlers of what had taken place. But the messengers fell into the hands of General Castro who put both to death. General Castro sent one of his captains with quite a force to destroy the Americans but the officer changed his mind when he found himself in the neighborhood of the detested invaders. Fremont pursued him for nearly a week and captured much of his stock and property but the Mexican was so skillful in retreating that he could not be brought to bay and Fremont returned to Sonoma. The little force under Fremont now became the rallying point for the American settlers and before long the captain had several hundred under his command. Leaving a garrison at Sonoma he marched to Sutter's fort which was placed under military rule and then made his way toward Monterey with the purpose of capturing that town. On his arrival, however, he found the place had already been taken by Commodore Slote and the American squadron. The Commodore leaving shortly after, Commodore Stockton succeeded him. While at Sonoma Fremont and his comrades had declared the independence of California and adopted the bear flag which was proffered to Commodore Slote and the star-spangled banner hoisted over the camp. As the Mexican general Castro was known to be at Los Angeles, Fremont asked for and obtain a ship on which his force was taken to San Diego. Then with a much inferior force he set out to give battle to the Mexican leader but the latter no sooner learned of his coming than he fled with all his men. Finding it impossible to force him to give battle, Fremont encamped near the town where he waited until joined by Commodore Stockton and a company of Marines. The junction effected, they marched upon Los Angeles which immediately fell into their hands. Long before this, Fremont had become impressed with the necessity of having some communication with Washington. In one sense it may be said he was all at sea for he was without positive instructions at a critical period, when it was most important that his line of policy should be clearly defined by his government. But the matter of communicating with headquarters thousands of miles away was infinitely more difficult and serious than it is today. A vast, wild, perilous and almost unknown tract stretched between the Pacific and Atlantic, across which it required weeks and sometimes months for an express rider to make his way. To send dispatches from Cape Horn took a much longer time. But the necessity was so urgent that Fremont sent Carson with fifteen picked men across the plains, instructing him to complete the journey, if possible, in sixty days. Carson started in the middle of September, 1846, and by the exercise of his consummate skill he passed rapidly through a most dangerous section without running into any special danger until the third day. Then, when in the neighborhood of the copper mines of New Mexico, he suddenly came upon an encampment of Apaches, one of the most hostile tribes and the most daring of fighters in the whole southwest. This was another of those critical occasions where Carson's wonderful quickness of mind enabled him to make the right decision without a second's delay. He understood the language, customs, and peculiarities of the people, and he knew them to be splendid riders and tiger-like warriors. The least evidence of timidity would invite an overwhelming attack. A bold front and what may be called indomitable cheek were all that was likely to take them through. Telling his men to halt, Carson gout forward until within a few rods of the warriors when he reigned up and called out what he wished to hold a parley with them. Thereupon a number advanced to hear what he had to say. The mountaineer stated that he and his friends were simply travelers through the Apache country. While they were prepared for war, they desired peace, and as their animals were tired out, they wished to exchange them for fresh ones. The Apaches expressed themselves satisfied with the proposal, and Carson carefully chose a camping-site where they could best protect themselves against treachery. Then the exchange was made, both parties being so well satisfied that they parted with many expressions of good will. It was impossible to carry any extended stock of provisions, the party depending upon their rivals to supply their needs in that direction. That game proved to be very scarce, and they suffered much until they reached the first Mexican settlement. Although those people were at war with the United States, their friendship for Carson led them to supply abundantly all the wants of himself and friends. With unremitting diligence and skill the party pushed on day after day until the 6th of October, when as they were riding across a treeless prairie several moving specks were observed in the far horizon. As they came closer they resolved themselves into horsemen, and with a delight which may be imagined Carson speedily observed that they were a detachment of United States troops under the command of General S. W. Carney, who was highly pleased to meet Carson. The detachment was a strong one, and was on its way to operate in California. After that officer had obtained all the important news Carson had to give, he decided to send the dispatches to Washington by another while he employed the Mountaineer to guide him back. This delicate duty was executed with such admirable skill that General Carney commended Carson in the highest terms. So rapidly did they move that California was entered early in December, and they were approaching San Diego when the scouts brought news that a large party of Mexicans were entrenched a short distance ahead with the intention of disputing their advance. Fifteen men under Carson were sent forward to drive in the outposts and capture such loose animals as could be found. A fierce fight followed, the Mexicans showing far more daring and skill than was expected. General Carney was compelled to send two companies of dragoons and twenty-five California volunteers to charge the enemy. Carson was in the front column and was riding at high speed when his horse stumbled, throwing him so violently as to shatter the stock off his gun. He lay partly stunned, but speedily recovering he caught up the rifle of a dead dragoon and rushed into the fight. Though the Mexicans were finally driven out, they inflicted frightful loss on the Americans. Nearly every man who was in the front column, where Carson was riding when his horse through him, was killed by the deadly bullets of the enemy. The Mexicans soon rallied and attacked the Americans with such fierceness that the advance guard was driven back and forced to act on the defensive. No soldiers could have fought with greater gallantry than did the assailants. Before the two mountain howitzers could be unlimbered almost every man around them was shot down. Then the Mexicans charged forward, lassoed the horses, captured one of the guns, and turned it on the Americans. From some cause or other it could not be discharged. Finally the Americans took refuge among the rocks where they were surrounded by three or four times their number, seemingly with the choice of two courses before them, to surrender or starve to death. The situation of General Carney and his men could not have been more desperate. The only subsistence they had were their mules, and the water was insufficient to meet their wants. They were completely surrounded by the brave California Mexicans. They might exist for a time on the bodies of their animals, but they must perish without water. General Carney called his friends together during the afternoon to consult as to whether any possible means of escape was before them. He could see none. He had sent three scouts to Commodore Stockton at San Diego asking for immediate help, but the three were captured by the Mexicans on their return. Carney had succeeded in exchanging a Mexican lieutenant whom he held prisoner for one of the scouts, but nothing was gained thereby. The messenger reported that they had been unable to reach San Diego, and Commodore Stockton therefore was in ignorance of the peril of his countrymen not far distant. When everyone expressed himself as unable to see the first ray of hope, Carson in his deliberate, modest way said that it was clear only a single possibility remained. That was by procuring relief from Commodore Stockton at San Diego. Though the other scouts had failed to reach him, Carson expressed his belief that he could succeed. At any rate, he desired to make the attempt to pass the Mexican lines. Lieutenant Beale, since minister to Austria and favorably known throughout the country, immediately seconded the proposition, volunteering to accompany Carson. General Carney gladly and gratefully accepted the offer, and the arrangements were instantly made. These arrangements were of the simplest nature. The beleaguered Americans were surrounded by three gardens of sentinels, and it was necessary for Carson and Beale to make their way past them in order to reach San Diego. When night was fully descended, the two left the rocks and approaching the first line sank upon their hands and knees, and crawled forward with the silence and stealth of Indian scouts. Despite the utmost care, their shoes made a slight noise now and then, and to avoid it they took them off and shoved them in their belts. The exploit of Lieutenant Beale and Kit Carson was a most remarkable one in every respect. Frequently through the gloom they would catch the faint outlines of a sentinel pacing back and forth. Instantly the two would lie flat on their faces until the man moved away, when the painful progress would be resumed. The slightest forgetfulness was certain to prove fatal, for the Mexicans, knowing the desperate straits of the Americans, must have been expecting some such attempt, and were therefore more than usually watchful. Once a mounted Mexican rode close to the prostrate figures, sprang off his horse and lit his cigarette. He was so close that the tiny flame showed his nose and features as it was held in front of his face, while lighting the twist of tobacco. During that most trying moment, as Kit Carson afterwards declared, he distinctly heard the beating of Lieutenant Beale's heart. There seemed no escape, but finally the horsemen drove away and the painful progress was continued for fully two miles, during which both men were constantly peering through the darkness for signs of danger. Again and again they were compelled to halt, and lying flat on their faces, wait till their fate was determined. We are through, whispered Carson at last, when considerable distance beyond the last row of sentinels. Thank heaven! exclaimed Lieutenant Beale in the same guarded voice. Now we'll put on our shoes and travel as fast as we know how to San Diego. The mountaineer paused in dismay. For while creeping over the plane, he had lost both his shoes that were thrust in his belt. The Lieutenant had been equally unfortunate, and as it was utterly out of their power to recover them, they could only push on barefooted over a soil that abounded with thorns and prickly pairs. As these could not be seen in the darkness, their feet were soon wounded to a distressing degree. It was necessary to avoid the well-beaten trails so that the route was not only made longer but much more difficult on account of the obstacles named. Yet they were working for a great stake. The lives of General Carney and his brave men were in the balance. If Carson and Bill failed to bring help right speedily, they were doomed. All night long through this succeeding day and far into the following night the couple, worn, wearied, and with bleeding feet, pushed ahead. When exhausted they would haunt for a brief while, but the thought of their imperiled comrades and the fear that some of the Mexicans were pursuing them speedily started them off again and they kept to their work with a grim resolution which he did not fatigue, suffering, and wounds. The only compass Carson had was his eye, but he was so familiar with the country that he never lost himself. The weary men were still trudging forward when through the darkness ahead suddenly flashed out a star-like point of light. Several others appeared and a minute later they dotted the background of gloom like a constellation. That's San Diego, exclaimed Carson, who could not be mistaken. The couple could scarcely restrain their joy. New life and activity thrilled their bodies and they hurried on with the same elastic eagerness they felt at the beginning. In a short while they were challenged by sentinels and making known their mission were taken before Commodore Stockton. That officer, with his usual promptness, sent a force of nearly two hundred men to the relief of General Carney. They took with them a piece of ordinance which for want of horses the men themselves were forced to draw. They advanced by forced marches to the endangered Americans, scarcely pausing night or day until in sight of the Mexicans, who considering discretion the better part of valor withdrew without exchanging a shot with the naval brigade. As may be supposed, the feet of Carson and Bill were in a frightful condition when they reached San Diego. The Mountaineer on that account did not return with the reinforcements, but he described the course and location so minutely that no difficulty was experienced by the relieving force. Lieutenant Bill was a man of sturdy frame accustomed to roughing it on the frontier, but the sufferings he underwent on that eventful night were such that he felt the effects for years afterward. End of Chapter 29 Chapter 30 of The Life of Kit Carson by Edward S. Ellis. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The chief force of the Mexicans was at Los Angeles over a hundred miles to the north of San Diego. They numbered six or seven hundred and were strongly entrenched. General Carney and Commodore Stockton joined their commands and marched to attack them. Arriving in front of the town, they scattered the Mexicans entrenched on the outside and then marched into the place. But the enemy had fled and gone northward to meet Fremont, who was on his way from Monterey with four hundred men to attack Los Angeles. The Mexicans had not long to search when they found Fremont, but instead of giving him battle their commander surrendered, possibly preferring to give him the honor, instead of selecting the other commanders. Fremont continued his march to Los Angeles where they went into winter quarters, and Carson, who had been devoting his valuable services to General Carney, now rejoined his old friend Fremont. It may be stated in this place that the jealousy between Commodore Stockton and General Carney assumed such a shape at that time that Fremont was compelled to acknowledge either one or the other as his superior officer. He selected Commodore Stockton as the one to whom he owed superior allegiance. The result of the petty quarrel was the trial of Fremont by court-martial, the particulars of which are too well known to require further reference at our hands. In the following march Kit Carson was selected to carry dispatches to Washington. Lieutenant Bill, who was still suffering from the exposure and hardships he had undergone, accompanied him, together with the guard of a dozen veteran mountaineers. Lieutenant Bill was so weak that Carson, for many days, was obliged to lift him on and off his horse. But the clear air, the helpful exercise, and the cheery companionship of the hardy scout were the best tonics in the world, and probably did the invalid more good than any other treatment that could have been devised. Carson took an extremely southern route and his superior skill and knowledge of the country and its inhabitants enabled him to avoid all danger until he reached a tributary of the Lower Colorado. While in camp at midnight they were assailed with a shower of arrows from a party of Indians. But as Carson expected the attack he had made such preparations that not one of his men were injured. Without any other incident worth the mention, Carson and his escort reached St. Louis. There the renowned mountaineer became the hero of the hour. He was taken at once to the home of Honorable Thomas H. Benton, the distinguished statesman and the father-in-law of Colonel Fremont, who introduced him to the leading citizens. The first person to greet Carson when he stepped from the cars in Washington was Mrs. Fremont, who recognized him from the description given by her husband in his letters. She compelled him to accompany her to the house of her father, where he remained an honored guest during his stay in Washington, which was for a considerable time. Among the compliments paid Carson while in the capital was that of his appointment by President Pogue as Lieutenant in the Rifle Corps of the United States Army, and he was ordered to return across the continent with dispatches. At Fort Leavenworth, Carson was furnished with an escort of fifty men who were volunteers in the war against Mexico. The journey westward was marked by no stirring incident until he reached the eastern declivity of the Rocky Mountains, where a company of United States volunteers were overtaken. They had in charge an enormous train of wagons on the way to New Mexico. On the morning after the encampment of Carson near them the Indians made an attack upon the volunteers, capturing all their cattle and more than twenty horses. The Mountaineer and his men dashed to the rescue, recaptured all the cattle, but were unable to retake the horses. Shortly after, Carson and his company reached Santa Fe. There he parted from the volunteers and hired sixteen others with which he continued the journey, thereby obeying the instructions received at Fort Leavenworth. Pursuing the even tenor off his way, he arrived at a tributary of the Virgin River, when he abruptly came upon an encampment of several hundred Comanches, who, as Carson happened to know, had massacred a number of settlers only a short time before. Understanding as thoroughly as he did the treacherous nature of these people, he made a bold front, and when they attempted to visit his camp, preemptorily ordered them to keep away. He added that he knew all about them and the first one who moved closer would be shot. Furthermore, if they did not depart within a specified time, he notified them that they would be fired upon. These were such audacious words that the Comanches doubted their sincerity. To test it, some of them overstayed their time. Not wishing to break his pledge, Carson ordered his men to fire. One of the warriors fell, while several others who were badly wounded came to the conclusion that when the great Mountaineer made a statement there was likely to be considerable truth in it. Food soon became so scarce that mule meat formed the only diet until they reached Los Angeles. Carson pushed on to Monterey where he delivered the dispatches to the proper officer, and then, returning to Los Angeles, he was assigned to the duty in Captain Smith's Company of United States Dragoons. He was given command of twenty-five dragoons and directed to proceed to tie on pass through which marauding Indians were accustomed to pass when returning from their raids in California. It was an important point, and the winter of 1847 to 48 was spent in the performance of the duties thus placed upon him. In the spring he was once more ordered to carry dispatches to Washington, an escort being furnished him as in the previous instance. In crossing Grand River one of the rafts became unmanageable, upset, losing considerable valuable property and endangering the lives of a number of the company. A large force of Utah and Apache Indians were encountered, but Carson managed them with the same skill he had shown them so many times before. On arriving at Taos he spent several days with his family and friends, after which he proceeded to Santa Fe. There he learned that the United States Senate had refused to confirm his nomination as Lieutenant in the Army. Many of his friends were so angered over this slight that they urged him to refuse to carry the dispatches further. But his reply, as given by Dr. Peters, is so admirable that we quote it. I was entrusted with these dispatches, having been chosen in California from whence I come as the most competent person to take them through safely. I would try to fulfill this duty even if I knew it would cost me my life. It matters not to me while I am performing this service for my country, whether I hold the rank of Lieutenant in the United States Army, or am known merely as an experienced Mountaineer. I have gained some little honor and credit for the manner in which I have always conducted myself when detailed on any special and important business, and I would on no account now wish to forfeit the good opinion formed of me by a majority of my countrymen, because the United States Senate did not deem it proper to confer on me an appointment which I never solicited, and one which, had it been confirmed, I would have resigned at the termination of the war. Having determined to perform his duty he made careful inquiries as to the state of feeling among the Indians through whose country the trail led. Their reports were of the most alarming character. The Comanches were on the warpath with the Vengeance. They were swarming all along the old Santa Fe Trail, on the watch for parties whom they could overwhelm and destroy. Such being the case, Carson resorted to the old artifice of making a trail of his own. He reduced his escort to ten experienced Mountaineers, and then struck out upon his new route. He rode northward from Taos, until within a region rarely visited by hostels when he changed his course by the compass several times. By this means he reached Fort Carney on the Platte, and finally arrived at Fort Leavenworth. Not only had he avoided all trouble with Indians, but by following the new route had found abundance of game so that the entire trip was but little more than a pleasure excursion. All danger was over at Fort Leavenworth, where he parted from his escort and went along to Washington. Previous to this the war with Mexico had ended, the Treaty of Peace having been signed February 2, 1848, and proclaimed on the 4th of July following. Carson tarried in Washington only long enough to deliver his dispatches to the proper authorities when he turned about and made his way to Taos, New Mexico, where he joined once more his family and friends. His destiny seems to be that of stirring incident and adventure. No man possessed such an intimate knowledge of the manners, customs, and peculiarities of the tribes in the Southwest, and with his exceptional woodcraft, skill, and high courage, his services were always indispensable. While he was at Taos, the Indians around him were restless until the whole country was seething and on the verge of a general revolt. Colonel Bill, commanding officer of the district, had established his headquarters at Taos. The Apaches committed so many outrages that he believed the only course open was to administer a thorough chastisement. But it was tenfold easier to reach such a conclusion than it was to carry it out. A strong force having been dispatched to bring them to account pursued them to the mountains from which they were compelled to return without accomplishing anything at all. The subsequent history of these Apaches and of General Crook's campaign against them are familiar enough to all to justify the declaration that they have proven themselves, the bravest and most formidable tribe that has defied the United States government during the past half-century. Disappointed that the officer whom he sent failed to do anything, Colonel Bill took command himself and employed Kit Carson as guide. Instead of stopping in the mountains because they were blocked with snow as the former expedition had done, Colonel Bill forced his way with great difficulty through them. The search for the Indians was long, but fruitless. The cunning Redskins were at home in their fastnesses, and not a solitary warrior was bagged. As the supply of provisions was running low, Colonel Bill was forced to return and retrace his steps. On their return they came upon a village of Apaches into which the soldiers charged. But the nimble warriors easily got away, with the exception of a couple of chiefs who fell into the hands of the Americans. Hoping to rouse the chivalry and gratitude of their nature, Colonel Bill lectured them kindly, and after their promise to behave themselves allowed them to depart. As soon as they were beyond rifle-shot they must have grinned with exultation, for it was not their nature to repay kindness with anything but cruelty. As Colonel Bill could not accomplish anything during the winter months he returned to Taos, where he remained until February. When learning that a large force of Indians were congregated on the Arkansas, with a number of Mexican captives, he went thither intending to retake them by force if they could not be secured by peaceable means. He had two companies of dragoons, and as before, engaged Carson as guide. When he reached the Arkansas he found himself confronted by two thousand Indians who had gathered to meet their agent, and probably to consult as to their future movements. The agent was present, and was a man of practical sense and experience. He told Colonel Bill that it would never do to demand the prisoners, for the Indians were in ugly temper, and if aroused would massacre the whole command. Colonel Bill himself was resentful, and very much disposed to give the Red Men battle, but he suffered himself to be dissuaded from carrying out his original purpose. When Carson returned once more to Taos he reflected that he was approaching middle life, and as he now had quite a family he was anxious to provide something for them, though he had rendered services beyond value to the United States government and to different individuals. He had not received enough compensation to place them above want should he become disabled. About this time his old friend Maxwell proposed that they should build a ranch in a beautiful valley some distance north of Taos. The site was a most charming one, though it was so much exposed to the attack of Indians that until then no one had dared to settle there. Handsome, roomy, and substantial structures were erected, and many of the most enjoyable days of their lives were spent on this famous ranch. It would be a pleasant farewell to leave them there to end their days in comfort and peace, but it was to be far otherwise with both, and especially with Carson. In eighteen forty-eight to forty-nine Colonel Fremont made a fourth exploring expedition across the continent. He, bearing all the expense, as he did in the case of his fifth expedition made in eighteen fifty-three. The fourth was an appalling failure, marked by an extremity of suffering that is incredible. The guide employed was wholly ignorant, and the command became entangled among the snows of the mountains, where some of them lived not only on mules but on each other. The strongest lay down and died, and the horrible features of Fremont's fourth expedition were only approached by that of Lieutenant Strain on the isthmus of Darien. When the few ghastly survivors staggered out of the mountains, they tottered to Carson's ranch, where they received the kindest treatment from him who had served Fremont so faithfully on his former expeditions. Carson had been on his ranch but a short time, when news reached him of a most atrocious murder by the Apaches. A wealthy merchant was returning in his private carriage with his wife and child from the United States to Santa Fe. He was accompanied by a small escort and the wagon-train carrying his goods. When he believed all danger passed, he hurried forward with his family who were becoming tired of the journey. At a point where there was no suspicion of danger, the Apaches fired upon the carriage, killing everyone who accompanied it, including the merchant himself. The wife and child were made prisoners and carried away. Shortly after, the little one was tomahawked and thrown into the river. When news of the outrage reached New Mexico, a party was hastily organized and started out in the hope of saving the woman and punishing the Regis who had committed the murders. When Carson learned of what was contemplated, he offered his services. They were accepted, but much to the surprise of his friends, he was given an inferior position. It was characteristic of the splendid scout that he did not show by word or look that he felt the slightest resentment on account of the slight. With a less skillful leader than himself, Carson galloped with the company to the scene of the murder. The sight was frightfully suggestive. Pieces of harness, band boxes, trunks, strips of blood-stained clothing, and fragments of the carriage attested to the untamable ferocity of the Apaches who had swooped down on the doomed party like a cyclone. From that point the trail was taken, and the infuriated mountaineers urged their steeds to the utmost, knowing the value of every hour and that in the case of a fight with the Indians a surprise is half the battle. Day after day the pursuit was maintained until nearly two weeks had gone by before the first glimpse of a warrior was obtained. The trail was one of the worst imaginable, and had the pursuers been less skillful they would have been baffled almost from the first. At certain points the Apaches would break up into parties of two or three that would take different routes, reuniting at some place many miles beyond where water was known to be. This was done repeatedly with a view of disconcerting any Avengers who might take their trail, and it is a tribute to the ability of the mountaineers that the cunning artifice failed so far as they were concerned of its purpose. At last the Apaches were described in the distance. Carson was the first to discover them, he being some distance in advance. Knowing how necessary it was to surprise them he shouted to his companions to charge at once. Not doubting he would be followed he dashed ahead with his horse on a dead run. But looking over his shoulder when he had gone part way he saw to his consternation he was alone. Angered and impatient he rode back to learn what it meant. The chief guide had directed the men to wait as there was no doubt the Apaches desired to hold a parley. It meant the next moment in the shape of a bullet from the Indians which struck the leader in the breast and rendered him senseless. As soon as he recovered he ordered his men to make the attack and leave him to himself. He was obeyed, but the delay was fatal. On charging into the camp they were able to kill only one warrior. The body of the woman was found still warm, showing that she had been slain only a brief while before. All those acquainted with the particulars of this sad affair agreed that had the advice of Carson been followed the poor lady might have been saved. CHAPTER XXXII of the life of Kit Carson by Edward S. Ellis. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Carson returned to his ranch where he spent the winter. One day in spring a wounded herder managed to reach the place with the news that he and his companion, stationed a few miles away, had been attacked by Apaches who wounded both and ran off all the horses and mules. A squad of ten dragoons and a sergeant were on guard near Carson's ranch. They and three settlers, including Carson, started at once in pursuit. It was so late in the day that when they came to the place where the outrage had been committed it was dark and they went into camp. But they were astir at the earliest dawn and soon striking the trail of the thieves put their animals to a keen gallop. Some twenty miles further the Apaches were described a long distance away. As it was upon the open prairie the contest at once resolved itself into an open chase. It was no time to spare the animals whose rapid gait was increased until it became a killing pace. The pursuers were steadily gaining when four of their horses succumbed and their riders, much to their chagrin, were shut out from the impending fray. The others had no time to stop. They could simply shout goodbye to them and spur their steeds to greater exertions. Fortunately the pursuers were better mounted than the fugitives who numbered a full score. With a bravery characteristic of their tribe they clung to their stolen property preferring to be overtaken and forced into a fight rather than abandon it. As soon as the parties were within rifle range the battle began and became of the most exciting character. The Apaches were splendid horsemen and displayed great skill. They threw themselves on the far side of their steeds firing from under the neck and keeping their bodies so well concealed that it was a difficult task to bring them down. But the white men were accustomed to that sort of work and the Apaches learned a lesson they never forgot. Five of their best warriors were killed, several badly wounded, and nearly all the animals recaptured. Dick Carson directed every movement of his men and to that fact their great success was due. The mountaineer was favored with prosperous times on his ranch. He and a companion drove fifty head of mules and horses to Fort Laramie where they were disposed of at a liberal profit. The round journey of a thousand miles was attended with much danger but it was accomplished without mishap. He reached home just in time to learn that the Apaches had visited the little settlement and run off all the animals. But as enough soldiers were within call a pursuit was soon organized and very nearly all the stock was recovered. Some months later an officer of the United States Army in Taos learned of a most atrocious plot that was afoot. Two wealthy gentlemen traveling leisurely through that section of the country had engaged an American named Fox to hire enough men to escort them across the plains. This Fox was one of the most consciousness wretches and esperitos that ever lived. He formed a scheme to murder the two gentlemen at a certain point on the plains and to divide their money among him and his companions. Those whom he secured were taken into his confidence and agreed to the crime beforehand. Among those to whom he applied was a miscreant in Taos who for some reason refused to go with him. However he kept the secret until sure the entire party were so far out on the plains that nothing could prevent the perpetration of the crime. He then told it to several associates, one of whom made it known to the officer of whom we have spoken. This gentleman was horrified and uncertain what could be done if indeed he could do anything hastened to Kit Carson to whom he made known the story. The Mountaineer listened eagerly and as soon as he grasped the whole plot declared there was reason to believe it was not too late to frustrate it. With the most wonderful intuition which was such a marked characteristic of his nature he fixed upon the very place where it had been decided the crime was to be committed. Knowing the entire route it was easy to determine the spot most likely to be selected which was more than two hundred miles distant. Instead therefore of following the trail he struck directly across the open prairie by the most direct course to his destination. Ten finely mounted dragoons accompanied all ready for any deed of daring. The route led through a country where the Indians were very hostile but they were avoided with little difficulty. The second night out they came upon the encampment of a detachment of United States troops whose captain volunteered to take twenty of his soldiers and help bring the desperados to justice. The expedition was a complete success. They overtook the party at the very spot fixed upon and Fox was arrested before he suspected the business of the strangers encamp. When the overthrow of the wretches was complete the gentlemen were told the story. They were speechless for a moment and could not believe it, but the proof was complete and they turned pale at the thought of the fate they had escaped. Their gratitude was unbounded, taking the hand of Carson they begged him to name some reward he would accept but the mountaineer shook his head. I am more than repaid in being able to help frustrate such a crime as was contemplated. I cannot think of accepting anything of the kind you name. The gentlemen however could not forget that under heaven they owed their lives to kick Carson. The following spring a couple of splendid revolvers arrived at the mountaineer's ranch addressed to him. Beautifully engraved on them were a few sentences, expressive of the feelings of the donors and the special occasion which called forth the gift. It is easy to understand how much more acceptable such an acknowledgment was to kick Carson than any sum of money could have been. Fox was lodged in jail, but though there was no doubt of his guilt in the minds of every one, yet the meditated crime was so difficult to establish that ultimately he was set free. CHAPTER XXXIII of the life of Kit Carson by Edward S. Ellis. Maxwell, the mountaineer and intimate friend of Carson, was quite wealthy and was of great assistance in several schemes which they undertook in partnership. One of their enterprises was that of sending a train of wagons belonging to the two, to the states. Carson took charge, and jogging along at a comfortable rate they reached in due time the Missouri where he went by steamboat to St. Louis. There he purchased a large amount of merchandise which was taken upstream on the boat, transferred to his wagon train, and the faces of all were then turned toward New Mexico. Everything went well until they approached the fording of the Arkansas when they came upon a large village of Cheyenne Indians. Unfortunately some days before a company of recruits had shown such cruelty toward several warriors belonging to that tribe that they were roused to the highest point of fury and were only waiting an opportunity to visit punishment on the first whites that came in their way. Carson knew nothing of the occurrence nor did he know of the bitter hostility of the Cheyennes. But when they went into the council and he overheard some expressions he saw that something was wrong. He warned his men to be ready for instant attack, never permitting the Indians to catch them off their guard for a single moment. The warriors fell behind, but after a while a number rode up on horseback. They were in their war-paint, and there could be no doubt of their hostility. Carson spoke in a conciliating manner and invited them into his camp to have a smoke and talk. The invitation was accepted. The hypocritical ceremony continued sometime when the warriors began talking among themselves. They spoke in sue at first, their purpose being to lay the impending massacre against those people. But in their excitement they dropped back to their own tongue and the whole appalling truth became speedily known to Carson and threw him to his companions. He sat on the ground with the furious warriors and heard them agree that at the moment the leader, as they recognized Carson to be, lay down his arms to take the pipe in his mouth they would leap upon him and kill him. They would then massacre all the rest. And as much as they were powerful enough to carry out this diabolical plan it will be admitted that Carson's nerves were pretty thoroughly tested when the pipe passing from one to the other was within a few minutes of reaching him. Most of the men with the mountaineer were Mexicans, were very deficient in courage and in a hand-to-hand encounter the Cheyennes would overcome the party in a space of a few minutes. It was in such crises as these that the remarkable fertility of resources possessed by Kit Carson displayed themselves. He seemed to perceive by intuition the wisest course to adopt and that perception came to him the instant the demand for it appeared. Rising to his feet and grasping his weapons he strode to the middle of the group and astounded them by beginning his address in their native tongue. He reminded them that that was proof he comprehended every word uttered by them. He spoke as if grieved by their course, for he insisted he had never wronged any one of their tribe, but on the contrary had been their friend. He then commanded them to leave the camp without delay or they would be riddled with bullets. Mexicans blue ice flashed and his face was like a thunder cloud. It was the Cheyennes who were surprised and they could but obey orders, though from their manner it was clear the trouble was not yet ended. They withdrew and went into council while Carson and his friends pushed rapidly forward. The peril in which this little command was placed could not be overestimated. There were not twenty men all told and except two or three were Mexicans who in no respect were the superiors if indeed they were the equals of the Cheyennes. Had Carson been absent a score of warriors could have charged into camp and slain every one. Instead of a score there were several hundred of them. If they chose to make the attack he knew there was no escape. The horses therefore were lashed to do their utmost. The train pushed forward with all speed while the apprehensive leader continually glanced back over the prairie, almost certain of seeing the Cheyennes galloping toward them. When night came there was little sleep in camp. Nearly every one stood on guard but the night and the following day passed without molestation. Convinced beyond question that the attack would be made unless some extraordinary means was taken to avert it, Carson took one of the fleetest-footed Mexican boys outside the camp and, pointing in the direction of the ranch of himself and Maxwell, nearly three hundred miles away, told him he must make all speed thither and tell the soldiers that unless they hurried to his help he and all his companions were doomed to certain death at the hands of an overwhelming war-party of Cheyennes. Everything depended on the quickness with which the Mexican youth brought assistance. The latter being promised a liberal reward bounded away with the fleetness of a deer and quickly vanished in the gloom. He went on foot because he could travel faster and last longer than could any animal in camp that he might ride. Carson went back to his friends and kept watch until morning. As soon as it came to light the animals were hitched to the wagons and urged forward again to the fullest extent of their ability. Some hours later several Cheyennes horsemen were seen riding rapidly toward them. When a hundred yards distant Carson compelled them to halt. Then he allowed them to come closer and told them he had lost patience with their annoyances, and the night before had sent an express to Riado where his ranch was built, asking the troops to see that the persecution was stopped. Should it so happen that the soldiers came and found the party massacred they would take the trail of the Cheyennes and punish them for what they had done. The cunning Indians, before accepting the statement of the leader, said they would examine the prairie for the trail of the messenger. Carson assisted them in the search, and it did not take long to find the moccasin tracks. A brief scrutiny also satisfied the warriors he had started so many hours before that it was useless to try to overtake him. The result was the attack and massacre were not made, and though the assistance which was asked was sent, yet it was not needed. One of the two experienced mountaineers with Carson on that eventful journey declared afterward that had any other living man than he been at the head of the party not one would have escaped. The achievement certainly ranks among the most extraordinary of the many performed by a most extraordinary man. It would be thought that after such an experience Carson would be content to settle down and give his entire attention to his ranch. While it cannot be said that he neglected his duties as a farmer, yet he loved the mountains and prairies too well ever to abandon them altogether. He and Maxwell, his old friend, determined on having one more old-fashioned beaver hunt, such as they were accustomed to a score of years before. They did not mean it should be child's play, they admitted no amateur hunters and trappers. All were veterans of years standing, and when the party was fully made up they numbered about a score. The expedition was a memorable one. They fixed upon one of the longest and most dangerous routes which included many Rocky Mountain streams and involved every possible kind of danger. In one respect the party were pleasantly disappointed. Years before the beavers had been so effectively cleaned out that they expected to find very few, if any. But because the business had been so little followed for so long a time, the animals had increased very fast, and therefore the trappers met with great success. They began operation on the south fork of the Platte, and finally ended on the Arkansas. They were gone many weeks, and when they returned to their homes, nearly, if not all, felt that they had engaged on their last trapping expedition. Carson had not wrought very long on his ranch when he learned of the scarcity and high prices of sheep in California. He at once set about collecting several thousand, hired a number of men, and drove the herd to Fort Laramie. Thence he made his way by the old immigrant trail to California where he disposed of the sheep at prices which brought him a profit of several thousand dollars. While in San Francisco he visited a prominent restaurant where he ordered a good substantial dinner for six persons. When it was ready he surveyed it for a moment with satisfaction, and, seating himself at the table, disposed of it all. His journey across the plains had given him a somewhat vigorous appetite. CHAPTER XXXIV of the Life of Kit Carson by Edward S. Ellis. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Kit Carson's old friend Maxwell, who had been his companion in so many stirring adventures, joined him in San Francisco, whose marvelous growth, even at that remote day, was a continual surprise and delight. As the two mountaineers made their way through the streets, where but a few years before all was a wild, untrodden wilderness, they paused and indulged in many wondering exclamations as though they were a couple of countrymen, visiting the metropolis for the first time in their lives. The couple concluded to make their way home by the southern route, passing in the neighborhood of the Gila. But the distance could be shortened so much by taking the steamer to Los Angeles that Maxwell decided to adopt that course. When he asked Carson to join him, the mountaineer shook his head. I got enough of that in 1846, he said, alluding to his brief voyage, when serving under Fremont in California at the beginning of the Mexican War. I never was so sick in all my life. You ain't likely to be sick again, pleaded Maxwell, and if you are, it don't last long, you'll save two or three weeks in time and enjoy yourself much more. But it was no use. Carson said he never would venture upon salt water again, and he would rather ride a thousand miles on the back of a mule than to sail a hundred in a ship. Accordingly the party separated for the time and Maxwell took steamer to Los Angeles, where he arrived fully two weeks in advance of Carson, who rode into the quaint old town on the back of a somewhat antiquated mule. They were soon ready for their long ride, when they struck a leisurely pace and all went well until they reached the Gila. There they entered a region which had been visited by one of those droughts which continue sometimes for many months. The grass was so dry and parched that it contained scarcely any nourishment, and the friendly pimos told them, if they pushed on, their animals were sure to die of starvation. It was impossible to doubt these statements, and Carson therefore proposed a new route, which, though very rough and difficult in some places, would furnish all the forage that was required. The course led them along the gila to the mouth of the San Pedro, and finally with little difficulty they reached the copper mines of New Mexico. Shortly after Carson encountered the Mormon delegate to Congress. During the exchange of courtesies the gentlemen conveyed the interesting information that he, Carson, had been made Indian agent for New Mexico. The news was a surprise and a great pleasure to the mountaineer. He had no thought of any such honor, and with all his modesty could not but feel that he was eminently fitted for the performance of its duties. No one had traveled so extensively through the West, and no one could understand the nature of Native Americans better than he. A hundred tribes knew of Father Kitt, as he soon came to be called, and they referred to him as a man who never spoke with a double tongue, and who was just toward them at all times. He had ventured among the hostels more than once where the bravest white man dared not follow him, and had spent days and nights in their lodges without being offered the slightest indignity. Kitt, Carson, was brave, truthful, kind, and honest. Aside from the gratification which one naturally feels when receiving an appointment that is pleasant in every respect, and which he holds thoroughly in hand, as may be said, the honest mountaineer was especially delighted over the thought that his government conferred it without any solicitation on his part. But the man who accepts the position of Indian agent and conscientiously attends to its duties has no sinecure on his hands. Many of them use it as such, while others do still worse, thereby sowing the seeds which speedily develop into Indian outrages, massacres, and wars. When Carson reached Taos, he had his official bond made out, and sent it with his thanks and acceptance of his appointment to the proper authorities in Washington. The Indian agent for New Mexico had scarcely entered upon his new duties when trouble came. A branch of the Apaches became restless and committed a number of outrages on citizens. Stern measures only would answer, and a force of dragoons was sent against them. They dealt them a severe blow, killing one of their most famous chiefs besides a considerable number of warriors. Instead of quieting the tribe, it rather intensified their anger, though they remained quiescent for a time through fear. Not long after Carson was notified that a large party of the tribe were encamped in the mountains, less than twenty miles from Taos, he decided at once to supplement the work of the sword with the gentle arguments of peace. This proceeding on the part of the Indian agent is one deserving of special notice, for it shows no less the bravery of Carson than it does the philanthropic spirit which actuated him at all times in his dealings with the red men. Alas, that so few of our officials today deem his example worth their imitation. The venture was so dangerous that Carson went alone, unwilling that anyone else should run the risk. When he arrived at their encampment he made his way without delay to the presence of the leaders whom he saluted in the usual, elaborate fashion, and then proceeded to state the important business that took him thither. Nearly every warrior in camp recognized the short, thick-set figure and the broad, pleasant face when they presented themselves. They knew he was one of the most terrible warriors that ever charged through a camp of red men. He had met them many a time in fierce warfare, but he always fought warriors and not papooses and squas. He was the bravest of the brave, and therefore they respected him. But he was a truthful and just man. He had never lied to them as most of the white men did, and he had shown his confidence in them by walking alone and unattended into the very heart of their encampment. They were eager to rend to shreds every pale face upon whom they could lay hands, but Father Kitt was safe within their lodges and wigwams. Carson made an admirable speech. He at first caused every serpent-like eye to sparkle by his delicate flattery. Then he tried hard to convince them that their hostility to the whites could result only in injury to themselves, since the great father at Washington had hundreds and thousands of warriors whom he would send to replace such as might lose their lives. Then, when he made known that the same great father had appointed him to see that justice was done then, they grinned with delight, and gathering around overwhelmed him with congratulations. The agent insisted that they should prove their sincerity by pledging to follow the line of conduct he had lain down, and they did so with such readiness that a superficial observer would have declared the mission a complete success. But Kitt Carson thought otherwise. He knew the inherent treachery of the aboriginal nature, and his estimate of apache loyalty was the true one. The most that he was warranted in feeling was the hope that those furious warriors would be less aggressive than had been their custom. Though they had expressed a willingness to make any agreement which he might propose, yet it was their very willingness to do so which caused his distrust. Had they been more argumentative and more tenacious of their rights, their sincerity might have been credited. The agent could have secured their consent almost to any agreement, but the sagacious official asked as little as he could. And I don't believe they mean to keep even that agreement, he muttered, as he bade the effusive sage-champs and warriors good-bye and made his way back to Taos. CHAPTER XXXIV Just as Carson suspected the apaches were insincere in their professions of goodwill toward the settlers. He had scarcely reached home when they renewed their outrages. The sinewy horsemen, as daring as the crusaders who invaded the Holy Land, seemed to be everywhere. We have already referred to those extraordinary warriors who for many years have caused our government more trouble in the south-west than all the other tribes combined, and it is not necessary, therefore, to say that when any branch of the apaches went on the warpath the most frightful scenes were sure to follow. Carson knew when to be gentle and when to be stern. If the former measures failed he did not hesitate to use the latter. Coercive means were taken, but in the first encounter between the red men and the United States troops the latter were decisively defeated. As a consequence the apaches became more troublesome than ever. Colonel Cook of the Second Regiment of the United States Dragoons was sent against them. He selected Kit Carson for his guide. The agent's wish, it may be said, was to learn whether any other tribe was concerned in the outrages, and in no way could he do it as well as by accompanying the expedition, which was fully organized by the selection of a number of Pueblo Indians to act as scouts and spies. These were placed under the immediate command of the well-known James H. Quinn, who died some time later. The force proceeded northward from Taus to the stream known as the Arroya Hondo. This was followed to the Rio del Norte, which being very high was crossed with much difficulty. As an illustration of the rugged work which such expeditions were called upon to undergo, Dr. Peters says that when they struggled to the other shore they found themselves confronted by a mass of solid and almost perpendicular rocks, fully six hundred feet high. This was ascended after the most exhausting labor by means of a zigzag trail and the journey was pushed over a rough and diversified country. Grass and water could not be found until they reached a small Mexican town where they were enabled to buy what was so sadly needed. Men and animals were so worn out that they rested for an entire day. The next morning the line of march was taken up, and they had not gone far when Carson discovered a trail. This was followed with renewed vigour and a couple of days later the Indians were overtaken. They did not attempt any stand against such a strong force, but took to flight at once. The Apaches used their utmost endeavours to get away, and they were helped by the roughness of the country. They were pressed so hard, however, that they lost most of their horses and plunder besides a number of warriors. Two Americans were wounded, one of whom shortly died, but the soldiers having located the Indians, as may be said, did not give over their efforts to punish them. Pursuit was resumed at earliest daylight, and men and animals did everything possible. Over mountains, through ravines, around rocks, up and down to clivities the chase continued until the cunning Apaches resorted to their old tricks. They desopped, as may be said, into their original elements. That is, they began separating until there were almost as many different trails as there were warriors. Then in their flight they selected the worst possible ground. Being familiar with the country and possessing far more endurance than the ordinary Indian, it soon became clear that the marauders were beyond reach. Accordingly, Colonel Cook ordered the pursuit discontinued and they headed toward the nearest Mexican village, where forage and risk could be secured for the animals. When the place was reached, Colonel Cook learned of a serious mistake made by the party who were transporting the soldier wounded several days before. They discovered an Indian whom, after some difficulty, they captured. His horse and arms were taken from him under the supposition that he was one of the hostile Apaches. He was not treated very gently and watching his opportunity he made his escape. It was afterwards learned that the warrior was a Utah with whom the white men were at peace. The Utah's were of a warlike nature and Colonel Cook was apprehensive they would use the occurrence as a pretext for joining the Apaches in their attack upon the settlers. He therefore sent Carson to the headquarters of his agency to do what he could to explain the matter and make all the reparation in his power. As soon as he arrived at Tau's, Carson sent a messenger with a request that the Utah chiefs would come and have a talk with him. They were always glad to meet Father Kitt face to face. The agent told how the mistake was made, expressed the regret of himself and Colonel Cook, and ended by restoring the property and by distributing a few presents among the chiefs. The business was managed with such tact that the Sachims expressed themselves perfectly satisfied and their affection and admiration for Father Kitt became greater than before. Colonel Cook was unwilling to return without striking a more effective blow against the Apaches. Pausing only long enough therefore to rest and recruit his men and horses, he resumed the hunt. He had not gone far when he struck another trail which was followed with great vigor. But before anything of the Indians could be discovered, it began snowing. In a few minutes the flakes were eddying all around them, the wind blowing so furiously that the men could hardly see each other as they bent their heads and rode slowly against it. This rendered pursuit out of the question because the trail was entirely hidden. Much against his will, Colonel Cook was forced to give up the pursuit. He made his way to a small town lying on his route where he met Major Brooks who was marching to his help with reinforcements. The latter officer, instead of returning with Colonel Cook, decided to take up the hunt himself for the hostels. With little delay a fresh trail was found and an energetic pursuit began. It was plain the Indians were making for the Utah country and they were pursued without difficulty. But when that section was reached the soldiers came upon so many trails which crossed and recrossed so many times that all individuality was lost. The most skillful scouts in the company were unable to identify or follow any one with certainty. The situation was exasperating but there was no help for it and the command was compelled to turn about and make their way home, having been in the field more than two weeks without accomplishing anything at all. But it was known that the Apaches would speedily reorganize and the soldiers had but to wait a short while when an opportunity would be presented for striking an effective blow. When a sufficient period had elapsed another expedition was sent out under the command of Major Carlton of the First Regiment of United States Dragoons. He engaged Kit Carson to act as his guide. The force marched northward about a hundred miles to Fort Massachusetts where all the arrangements were completed. The party was divided, the spies under Captain Quinn being sent to examine the country on the west side of the White Mountains, while the Major decided to inspect the territory to the eastward of the range. Captain Quinn, with his skillful trailers, moved up the San Louis Valley until he reached the famous Moscow Pass, which was often used by the Apaches when hard-pressed. They were perfectly familiar with all its diverse and peculiar windings and when they once dashed in among the rocks they felt safe against any and all pursuers. Making their way through this pass Captain Quinn and his scouts reached Wet Mountain Valley where he had promised to meet and report to his superior officer. They discovered a trail made by three of the enemy. Carefully following it up it was found to join the principal path a short distance away. When Quinn arrived he had also some discoveries to report and the scouts held a consultation over the question. It was agreed by all that they were on the track of the enemy they were seeking. The general reader is not apt to appreciate the skill, patience, and intelligence shown by the scouts and hunters in tracing the flight of an enemy through a wild and desolate country. As in evidence of the wonderful attainments of bordermen in Woodcraft the following letter may be given written by the surgeon at Fort Randall in Dakota in 1869. The most extraordinary skill that is exhibited in this part of the country, either by the white man or red native, is in the practice of trailing. Here it may be accounted and art as much as music, painting, or sculpture is in the east. The Indian or trapper that is a shrewd trailer is a man of close observation, quick perception, and prompt action. As he goes along nothing escapes his observation and what he sees and hears he accounts for immediately. Often not another step is taken until a mystery that may present itself in this line is fairly solved. The Indian trailer may stand still for hours in succession to account for certain traces or effects in tracks and sometimes gives to the matter unrementing attention for days and weeks. The trailer is not a graceful man. He carries his head much inclined, his eye is quick and restless, always on the watch, and he is practicing his art unconsciously, hardly ever crossing the track of man or animal without seeing it. When he enters a house he brings the habits he contracted in the practice of his art with him. I know a trailer as soon as he enters my room. He comes in through the door softly and with an air of exceeding caution. Before he is fairly in or at least has sat down he has taken note of every article and person. Though there may be a dozen vacant chairs in the room he is not used to chairs and, like the Indian, prefers a more humble seat. When I was employed by General Harney last summer to take charge temporarily of the Indians that were gathered here to form a new reservation, one day a guide and trailer came into the General's headquarters. I told him to be seated. He sat down on the floor bracing his back against the wall. The General saw this and in vexation cried out, My God, why don't you take a chair when there are plenty here not occupied. The man arose and seated himself in a chair, but in so awkward and uncomfortable a manner that he looked as if he might slip from it at any moment. But when this uncouth person came to transact his business with the General he turned out to be a man of no ordinary abilities. His description of a route he took as guide and trailer for the Ogallalas in bringing them from the plat to this place was minute, and to me exceedingly interesting. Every war-party that for the season had crossed his trail he described with minuteness as to their number, the kinds of arms they had, and stated the tribes they belong to. In these strange revelations that he made there was neither imposition nor supposition, for he gave satisfactory reasons for every assertion he made. I have rode several hundred miles with an experience guide and trailer, hack, whom I interrogated upon many points in the practice of his art. Nearly all tracks I saw, either old or new, as a novice in the art, I questioned him about. And going to the Nyobrara River crossed the track of an Indian pony. My guide followed the track a few miles and then said, It is a stray black horse with a long bushy tail, nearly starved to death, has a split hoof on the left forefoot, and goes very lame, and he passed here early this morning. Astonished and incredulous I asked him the reasons for knowing these particulars by the tracks of the animal, when he replied, It was a stray horse because it did not go in a direct line, his tail was long, for he dragged it over the snow. In brushing against a bush he left some of his hair which shows its collar. He was very hungry, for in going along he has nipped at those high dry weeds which horses seldom eat. The fissure of the left forefoot left also its tract, and the depth of the indentation shows the degree of his lameness. And his tracks show he was here this morning when the snow was hard with frost. At another place we came across an Indian track, and he said, It is an old yankton who came across the Missouri last evening to look at his traps. In coming over he carried in his right hand a trap, and in his left a lasso to catch a pony which he had lost. He returned without finding the horse, but had caught in the trap he had out a prairie wolf which he carried home on his back and a bundle of canyconic wood in his right hand. Then he gave his reasons. I know he is old by the impression his gate has made, and a yankton by that of his moccasin. He is from the other side of the river as there are no yanktons on this side. The trap he carried struck the snow now and then, and in same manner as when he came shows that he did not find his pony. A drop of blood in the center of his tracks shows that he carried the wolf on his back and the bundle of canyconic wood used for a staff or support. And catching a wolf shows that he had traps out. But I asked, How do you know it is a wolf? Why not a fox or a coyote or even a deer? Said he. If it had been a fox or coyote or any other small game he would have slipped the head of the animal in his waist belt and so carried it by his side and not on his shoulders. Deer are not caught by traps, but if it had been a deer he would not have crossed this high hill, though would have gone back by way of the ravine, and the load would have made his steps still more tottering. Another Indian track which we saw twenty miles west of this he put this serious construction upon. He is an upper Indian, a prowling horse thief, carried a double-shot gun and is a rascal that killed some white man lately and passed here one week ago. Four, said he. A lone Indian in these parts is on mischief and generally on the lookout for horses. He had on the shoes of a white man whom he had in all probability killed, but his steps are those of an Indian. Going through the ravine the end of his gun hid into the deep snow. A week ago we had a very warm day and the snow being soft he made these deep tracks, ever since it has been intensely cold weather, which makes very shallow tracks. I suggested that perhaps he bought those shoes. Indians don't buy shoes and if they did they would not buy them as large as these were, for Indians have very small feet. The most noted trailer of this country was Paul Deloria, a half-breed who died under my hands of Indian consumption last summer. I have spoken of him in a former letter. At one time I rode with him and trailing was naturally the subject of our conversation. I begged to trail with him an old track over the prairie in order to learn its history. I had hardly made the proposition when he drew up his horse, which was at a ravine, and said, Well, here is an old elk track. Let us get off our horses and follow it. We followed it but a few rods when he said it was exactly a month old and made it two o'clock in the afternoon. This he knew as then we had our last rain and at the hour name the ground was softer than at any other time. The track before us was then made. He broke up here and there clusters of grass that lay in the path of the track and showed me the dry ends of some, the stumps of others, and by numerous other similar items accounted for many circumstances that astonished me. We followed the trail over a mile. Now and then we saw that a wolf, a fox, and other animals had practiced their trailing instincts on the elk's tracks. Here and there he would show me where a snake, a rat, and a prairie dog had crossed the track. Nothing had followed or crossed the track that the quick eye of Deloria did not detect. He gave an account of the habits of all the animals that had left their footprints on the track, also the state of the weather since the elk passed, and the effect of sunshine, winds, aridity, sand storms, and other influences that had a bearing on these tracks.