In spite of the efforts of the scout, two days elapsed before any signs
of the immediate presence of the thief were discovered. And even then
he was not positive that the huge Rat was near at hand.
“I think he’s gone,” suggested Reuben.
“Did you have any question about that?” laughed Kit Carson quietly.
“That he had ‘gone’ was the reason why we started after him.”
“Yes, but I think he’s gone where we can’t find him.”
Carson smiled as he shook his head, but made no response to the
discouraged lad.
An Indian village was located in the valley not far ahead of them. The
signs which had aroused the interest of Kit Carson had been the
discovery of the bones and part of the hide of a horse which had been
left on the sands by its border. “That’s one of our horses,” said the
scout quietly to Reuben.
“Is it?” inquired the younger scout as he quickly jumped from his horse
and began to investigate the remains of the unfortunate animal. “I
could not say,” he said at last when he arose and resumed his seat in
the saddle.
“I am sure it is,” said Kit Carson in a low voice, “and we shall find
that the Indians either are having a feast on horseflesh, or that they
have just finished one. The best plan, Reuben, will be for you to stay
here while I go alone into the village.”
Reuben glanced nervously about him, for his confidence in his own
ability to protect himself in case he should be attacked was not
strong. However, he made no reference to his own feelings and watched
his companion as he slowly rode toward the wigwams, the tops of which
could be seen in the distance.
Two hours passed before Kit Carson returned to his companion. At first
the scout was not inclined to relate what had befallen him in his
visit. In a brief time, however, he said: “I found the Indians all
friendly.”
“Did you?” inquired Reuben. “Were they having a feast?”
“Yes.”
“Didn’t they object to your interrupting them?”
“No. I found them all friendly, as I said. Indeed, the chief of the
village is a cousin of my wife. What horse do you suppose they have
been eating?”
“Not Black Jack?” demanded Reuben, startled by the suggested question.
Kit Carson nodded his head to indicate that the beautiful animal had
indeed been the one which had provided the feast for the Indians.
“Why did they do that? How did it happen?”
“It seems that when Rat came into the village the black horse had
broken a leg. It was just able to drag itself along.”
“Was Rat there?”
“He was, but he isn’t now.”
“What has happened to him?”
Kit Carson smiled slightly as he looked keenly into the face of his
angry friend, and then he said: “I advised him to leave.”
“And he left?”
“He did.”
“Did you do anything to him?”
“Nothing except to advise him to depart. I am glad to say that to all
appearances he seemed to be willing to follow my advice. He decided,
however, to leave our furs behind him.”
“Where are they now?”
“They are in the village and I can get them any time I want them.”
“What did Rat have to say for himself?”
“Nothing much. He tried at first to explain that it was all a mistake,
that he didn’t know the skins belonged to us, and when he found them he
thought it was a great find and he would make away with them himself.”
“What did he have to say about Black Jack?”
“He claimed that Black Jack was outside the camp and that he didn’t
intend to run away with him. He was going to bring him back just as
soon as he disposed of the furs. I have just come back to tell you,
Reuben, that I’m not going back to camp just now. Do you think you can
find your way alone?”
“Yes. Why don’t you want me to stay with you?”
Kit Carson shook his head as he said in a low voice: “It will be
better, Reuben, for you to go back to camp. Tell the men that I shall
be there some time to-morrow.”
Reuben looked suspiciously into the face of the scout, but there was
nothing in his expression to betray what his intentions were. Convinced
that there was nothing more to be said, Reuben reluctantly spoke to his
horse and started on his journey back to the camp. Occasionally he
glanced behind him, but after a few minutes had elapsed he was unable
to discover the scout anywhere on the plains. Doubtless he had returned
to the village, though just what his purpose in doing so Reuben was
unable to conjecture.
Steadily Reuben continued on his way, and the return, inasmuch as he
was able to proceed directly and was not compelled to stop in order to
study the signs in the sand as to the course which Rat had followed,
did not require as much time as had been consumed in the journey in
pursuit of the thief.
Near noon of the day following that on which he had left his companion
Reuben entered the camp. In response to the eager questions of his
friends he related what had befallen him and Kit Carson in their
efforts to overtake Rat. There were exclamations of anger over the fate
which had befallen Black Jack and many expressions of wonder as to why
Kit had permitted the braggart to depart from the Indian village before
severe punishment had been inflicted upon him. Nor did Kit Carson offer
any explanation when he returned two days later.
The steady routine of the camp life continued during the weeks that
followed, and when at last the entire party once more made its way back
to Taos every one was well satisfied with the success which had
attended their combined labours.
With Kit Carson now went the young Indian girl who was his wife. The
long journey at last was completed and preparations were made for the
quiet weeks that must ensue at the little Spanish settlement. The weeks
ran into months, and a baby girl that had been born to Kit Carson and
his wife had grown into a laughing, though quiet, dark-eyed little
beauty. She was the pet of every one in the settlement, and the pride
of Kit Carson in the little maid was apparent to all his friends.
Indeed the unusual demonstration of affection which the scout displayed
as he played with the little girl was the cause of much comment among
his friends.
One day, however, there came a sadness upon all who knew the scout. His
young Indian wife had been taken ill, and despite all the efforts of
the people in the little settlement to help her, their work proved
unavailing. In a brief time the dark-eyed wife of Kit Carson was dead.
Not long after her death the scout came to Reuben and said: “I’m going
to start for Pain Court. Do you want to go with me?”
For a moment Reuben was silent. He recalled the circumstances under
which he had departed from the place years ago. His mother was dead and
his father, either made unfeeling by the death of his wife or hardened
by the conditions of his life, had become indifferent to Reuben. He had
insisted that he would no longer be responsible for the care of the
lad, and it was partly because of the hardships which in this manner
were thrust upon him that Reuben had started with Jean Badeau across
the long plains.
Not a word in all the months that had intervened had been heard from
his father. Whether or not he was living now he had no means of
knowing. And as for Jean, he had strangely disappeared, as we know, and
whether or not the harmless insane man whom Reuben had seen at San
Gabriel and in the Indian village, where Kit Carson had found his wife,
really was the lost trapper he had no means of fully knowing.
These thoughts passed quickly through Reuben’s mind, but he was
accustomed to quick decisions, and in a moment he said: “Yes, I will
go.”
“I am going to take my baby with me,” said the scout.
“What?”
“I am going to take the baby with me. I don’t dare leave her here to be
brought up by the squaws. I am going to take her back among my own
people and have her looked after as the daughter of her father ought to
be, for I am a man of means now,” added Kit Carson quietly, smiling as
he spoke. “A few more skins and I shall have enough to make me rich, or
at least some time ago I would have thought I was rich if I had had any
such amount of money.”
“She’ll die on the way,” protested Reuben.
“Well, she will have to die some time. It’s no worse to die on the
plains than it is in a town. I think she would die here at Taos if I
left her, and I’m going to take my chances and see if I cannot take her
back with me.”
“But she’ll starve. You cannot get any milk for her.”
Kit Carson smiled, but said no more, and Reuben was surprised when two
days later, after arrangements had been completed for the departure, he
discovered that an Indian brave and his wife whose baby had died two
days before were to accompany them.
Of the long journey that followed Reuben retained many vivid
recollections. There were nights when their camp was surrounded by the
howling coyotes; there were times when they were unable to see far
before them because of clouds of dust which passing herds of buffaloes
had raised. Several times, too, they were visited by Indians from the
various tribes. Twice there were delays of two or three days each
because Kit Carson was fearful that his little girl was becoming weaker
under the stress of the long journey.
At last the scout insisted on turning aside from the immigrant road for
a visit to the old settlement on the borders of Missouri where he had
been born. His visit, however, was not prolonged. He found that the old
cabin in which his family had lived was now a deserted ruin. As he
recalled the place it had been filled to overflowing with the large
family which had made it its home. Now, not one member of his family
was to be found in the region. Whither they all had gone or what had
become of them he was unable to discover.
Disappointed by the results of his visit, the scout renewed his journey
to Pain Court, and at last the travellers found themselves within the
limits of the place they were seeking.
But what a change had come over all things there. The little
trading-post had become a large town. Streets had been laid out which
to the trappers seemed to be crowded with people passing to and fro. In
amazement the strangers looked all about them as they entered, unable
to recognize any familiar faces.
It was not long, however, before Reuben decided that he would leave his
companions for a time and do his utmost to discover whether or not his
father was still living.