TWO BOYS RIDE TO THE CITY OF MEXICO. ELEVEN HUNDRED MILES OF
TRIAL, DANGER AND DUTY---A GIFT HORSE.--THE WIND RIVER MOUNTAINS.
It was now the spring of 1850. I was eighteen years old and
beginning to think myself a man. Uncle Kit asked me to go to the
City of Mexico, saying that he owed a man there two hundred and
fifty dollars, and wished to pay him. He also told me that he
would have Juan, the Mexican boy, accompany me on the journey, but
cautioned me not to let any one know that I had money. "For," said
he, "them Mexican guerrillas would kill you if they knew you had
money about you."
The reader can fancy two boys at the age of eighteen, starting out
on a trip of eleven hundred miles, over a wild country, with no
settlement except hostile Indians and Mexicans, who are worse than
Indians if they know a person has money about him. At that time
there were no roads across the country in that direction; nothing
but a trail--a part of the way not even that--and the whole
country full of Mexican guerrillas--or, as we would term them,
Mexican robbers--who made it a business to murder people whom they
suspected of having money, and who would even massacre whole trains
of emigrants, take what money they might have, their provisions
and clothing, burn their wagons and drive their stock away. The
fact is that many of the depredations committed in those days, for
which the Indians were blamed, were done by those fiendish
Mexicans.
When the time arrived for starting and we were mounted, Uncle Kit,
Johnnie West and Mr. Hughes came out to bid us good-bye.
Johnnie West said: "Well, I am afraid I shall never see you again,
for those Mexican guerrillas are worse than Indians, especially
when they think a traveler has money about him."
All this helped to put me on my guard, and I didn't even tell Juan
that I had money with me.
We started on our journey with two saddled horses and one pack-
horse each. We met numerous little bands of Navajoe Indians, but
they being on good terms with the whites, gave us no trouble,
whatever. We also met numerous little squads of Mexican
guerrillas, but they not suspecting two boys as young as we were
with having money, did not disturb us. Uncle Kit had sent the
shabbiest looking horses along that he had, in order to deceive
them. Every band of Mexicans that we met on our trip would ask us
where we were from, where we were going and our business. I always
told them that I was from Taos, and was going to the City of
Mexico to see a friend, and they would pass on.
The first river we came to, Juan asked me if I could swim. I told
him that I did not know, as I had never had a trial. We stripped
down, tied our clothing about our shoulders and mounted our horses
again.
I wanted Juan to take the lead and let me drive the horses after
him, but he thought we had best ride side by side and let the
pack-animals follow, so in case of accident we could help each
other. We made it across safe, and from this time on we never
hesitated at a stream.
We were thirty-one days making the trip to the City of Mexico.
I found Mr. Reed at his residence and paid the two hundred and
fifty dollars to him. He was much astonished at Uncle Kit sending
two boys eleven hundred miles to pay so small a debt, and said
that he had not expected to get the money until such time as
Carson might be coming that way on other business, for it was so
far that he would not have gone after it and taken the chances of
crossing the country between the City of Mexico and Taos, as we
had done, for the two hundred and fifty dollars.
But Uncle Kit owed this money and had agreed to pay it at a
certain time, and he, like many other frontiersman, valued his
word more than he did his gold.
We laid over two days at the City of Mexico in order to let our
horses rest. The day before we were to start, Mr. Reed, who had
invited us to his residence to board while in the City, went out
to where our horses were, and seeing that one of the horses had a
sore back, told me that he would make me a present of a horse
that, if I took good care of, would be able to carry me the entire
trip.
I named this horse Mexico, and as will be seen later, he proved to
be a noble saddle-horse, which I kept and rode for seven years.
We made the trip home somewhat quicker than we did on our way out,
being better acquainted with the country, and so could make better
time.
We were just two months making the round trip, arriving at Taos
two weeks sooner than Uncle Kit had expected us. Johnnie West and
Mr. Hughes were glad to see us return, for it was more than they
expected.
By the time my panther had grown to be quite large, and was glad
to see me.
On my return to Taos I learned that Uncle Kit and Jim Bridger had
formed a co-partnership, for the purpose of trapping the coming
winter in the Wind River mountains, which were about seven hundred
miles from Taos, and had employed Johnnie West, Charlie Jones and
Jake Harrington to trap for them, and in a few days after my
return from the City of Mexico we made the start with thirty-two
pack-animals, besides our saddle-horses.
Nothing happening worthy of note on our way out, we arrived at our
proposed trapping ground, and found plenty of beaver and plenty of
fresh Indian sign as well, but the Indians were not apt to give us
any trouble at this season of the year, more than to run our
horses off, as they would prefer to let trappers alone until
spring and then kill them and take their furs.
We established our two camps about four miles apart, and kept our
horses in the valley between the two camps; there was an abundance
of grass, plenty of game and no end to the beaver. In fact, to
take it on the whole, it seemed that this was going to be the
loveliest place to spend the winter that we had ever struck, and
the boys were all highly elated over their new winter quarters. We
had only been in our trapping field about two weeks when Uncle Kit
went out one morning to kill a deer and to look after the horses.
He had not gone far when he looked across the little valley and
saw an Indian driving off our horses. Being in gunshot of the
Indian, he fired at him and brought him to the ground. When
Uncle Kit returned to camp, he said:
"Boys, I am afraid we have made a mistake in coming here to trap
this winter; we must be near the Blackfoot Indians, for I just
killed one that was driving our horses off, and I just happened to
see him in time to catch him with old Blackleg." At that time the
Blackfoot Indians were considered worst tribe in the entire
Northwest.
I went at once to the other camp to notify Jim Bridger and his
crowd that they might be on their guard. Bridger said he had been
expecting it, as he had seen fresh Indian sign out on the ridges
some days before, but thought it was getting so late now that they
would not give us any more trouble this winter, but that we would
have to get out early the next spring.
We stayed here and trapped all winter, with splendid success. Jim
Bridger took twelve beaver from his string of traps every twenty-
four hours for seven successive days, being the greatest catch I
ever knew from one string of traps.
About the last of March we commenced making preparations to leave
the mountains, for fear the Indians might come and clean us out.
The day before we were to start there came a heavy fall of snow,
and we were not able to move until the first of April, when we
made another start for Santa Fe, going via Sweetwater, and we had
enough furs to load our entire train.
The second day after leaving camp we were attacked, about noon, by
twenty Indians of the Blackfoot tribe, who entertained us for
about an hour.
We huddled our horses and used them for breast-works, and killed
seven Indians without one of our men being wounded, but we lost
two horses.
It might be well to describe the manner in which trappers traveled
those days while passing through a country where there were
hostile Indians.
Each man would take the number of horses he was to lead and
string them out and fasten them together by tying each horse to
the tail of the horse ahead of him and the head horse of the
string he would tie to the tail of his saddle-horse. This had to
be done to prevent a stampede when attacked, and the horses, too,
were a great protection to the men, for when they were attacked by
Indians the men would ride to the center and use the horses for
breastworks in time of battle.
After the fight was over the boys all felt jubilant over their
victory. We had no more trouble with Indians for four days, when
we reached Rock Creek, a beautiful little mountain stream that
pays tribute to the North Platte river. Here was a nice place to
camp; plenty of wood and an abundance of grass, and the finest
water in the land. Here was a lovely valley, and just off to the
northwest was a little hill or ridge, only a short distance from
which we made our camp. Some of the men went to getting wood and
building a fire, while others were unpacking, not thinking of
Indians, and just as the packs were off we were aroused by the
war-whoop of a little squad of Indians who were coming over the
ridge spoken of. We had a hot little fight, but it only lasted a
few minutes, when the Indians withdrew, and Uncle Kit gave orders
to follow them, which we did, and had a running fight for about
five miles. We captured five horses from the redskins, and in the
affair did not lose a man, nor even a horse.
This ended our trouble with the Indians for this trip.
On arriving at Santa Fe, Uncle Kit and Jim Bridger sold their furs
to Joe Favor and Mr. Roubidoux for a good price.
Here we met an Englishman, who lived in London, England, and had
come that spring from St. Louis, in company with Mr. Roubidoux and
Joe Favor.
I had my pet panther with me, and the Englishman took a fancy to
her and asked my price for her. I told him that she was not for
sale. He offered me a hundred dollars for her. I hated to part
with her, but a hundred dollars was more money than I had ever had
before at one time, and looked like a big lot to me, so I accepted
his offer, and in less than twenty-four hours I was very sorry,
for during the time I stayed in Santa Fe, every time that I would
pass in sight of her she would cry as pitifully as any child ever
heard. Five hundred dollars would not have bought her from Mr.
Mace, as he had purchased her with the intention of taking her to
England.
Mr. Roubidoux and Joe Favor employed Uncle Kit to go out and trade
for buffalo robes with the Comanche and Kiowa Indians. I
accompanied him on this trip, and we were out two months, during
which time we did not see a white man.
This was the first shipment of buffalo robes that had ever been
made from this region, consequently we were able to get them
almost at our own price.
As soon as Uncle Kit got out there with his little stock of goods
that had been furnished him to trade on, and which consisted of
beads and rings and a very few blankets, and the Indians had
learned that he would trade for robes, the squaws all fell to
dressing them. Among the Indians it was considered disgraceful for
men to do such work.
In a very short time there were plenty of dressed buffalo robes,
and some very nice ones, and I have seen Uncle Kit trade a string
of beads a foot and a half long for a first-class robe, and for a
red blanket he could get almost as many robes as he had a mind to
ask.
As fast as the robes were bought they were baled, and by the time
Uncle Kit pretty well bought up all that were for sale, the wagon-
train came and hauled them away.
There were twenty wagon loads of robes and the goods Uncle Kit
traded for them would not have cost to exceed seventy-five
dollars.
Our work being done, we started for Taos, for it was now almost
time to start out for the winter's trapping. On our arrival at
Taos we found Johnnie West, who had been loafing around for two
months, and who was anxious to get at work again. Uncle Kit hired
him to go with us to South Park to trap the coming winter, that
being the place he had decided upon for the season's work.