CARSON QUITS THE TRAIL.--BUFFALO ROBES FOR TEN CENTS.--"PIKE'S
PEAK OR BUST."--THE NEW CITY OF DENVER.--"BUSTED."--HOW THE NEWS
GOT STARTED.
Uncle Kit Carson pulled out for home and when he was starting he
said he had done his last trapping and he was going home to his
sheep ranch and take things easy. "For," said he, "I had the wust
luck last winter that I ever had in my life, when I had 'lowed to
have the best. I'm gittin old enough to quit."
Before he left he told me that whenever I felt like it he wanted
me to come to his place and make my home as long as I pleased.
Col. Bent fitted me out with twenty-five pack animals and two
Mexican boys to assist me, and I started for the Arrapahoe
country, one hundred and twenty-five miles distant. I was supplied
with beads, blankets and rings to trade to the Indians for furs
and buffalo robes.
On my arrival at the Arrapahoe village I learned that there were
not many furs on hand, as the Sioux had been so hostile the past
fall and winter that the Arrapahoes had not been able to trap or
hunt much, consequently we had to visit all the little hunting
parties belonging to that tribe, in order to get furs and robes
enough to load our pack train.
After remaining about two weeks I got a fair load and started on
my return, making the round trip in little over one month, having
had no trouble whatever with Indians or otherwise. On my return to
Bent's Fort I found John West, who had been trapping in the
Windriver mountains in company with two other men I did not know.
They had been successful the past winter and had sold their furs
for a good price, and now Johnnie had plenty of money and was
having what he termed a glorious good time, spending from ten to
forty dollars a day.
After I had settled up with Col. Bent and Mr. Roubidoux I went to
Taos with the determination that I would take it easy the balance
of this season.
Col. Bent offered to bet me a horse that I would not stay in Taos
one month. He told me that if I would go to Taos and rest up a
month and return to the fort and hunt for them the balance of the
season he would make me a present of a better horse than the other
one he gave me, but I told him that he was mistaken, and that he
never owned a better horse than Pinto. I knew that Pinto was
getting old and had had many a hard day's ride, but I could get on
him to-morrow morning after breakfast, and be in Taos before
sundown, which was a distance of eighty miles. I made a bargain
with them to return to the fort in a month from that time and hunt
for them until something else turned up.
On my arrival at Taos I found Jim Bridger stopping with Uncle Kit,
and he made me a proposition that we go and stop with the Kiowa
tribe that winter and buy furs and buffalo robes. I agreed to that
provided that Col. Bent and Mr. Roubidoux would agree to buy the
furs and robes of us. They were the only traders in that country
since Joe Favor had retired from business.
In one month I returned to the fort as per contract and started in
hunting.
There was so much stock around the fort that I had to go from ten
to twenty miles to find deer, and sometimes further to find
buffalo.
After I had hunted about three weeks Jim Bridger came over to try
to make a bargain with the company in regard to buying furs and
buffalo robes.
Up to this time the Kiowa had not traded any at this fort. In
fact, there had been but little trading done among them, yet they
were in the heart of the buffalo country in the fall of the year,
being located on the Arkansas river, one hundred miles west from
the Big Bend. We made a bargain to work for Bent and Roubidoux by
the month, they to furnish us.
They thought the best plan would be to buy a load of robes and
return with it, and then go back again, for by so doing we would
not have to run chances of being robbed by other tribes as we
would by waiting until spring to pack over to the fort.
We started about the first of November for the Kiowa village, with
thirty-two pack-horses and a Mexican boy to help us. This was just
the time of year that the buffalo were moving south for the
winter, and they travel much slower and are much harder to
frighten than in the spring when they are traveling the other way.
I attributed this to their being so much fatter in the fall of the
year, for in the fall one would never see a poor buffalo except it
was either an old male or one that had been crippled; and their
hides are much more valuable than those taken off in the spring.
On arriving at the village we found that the Indians had a new
chief, whom neither of us were acquainted with. His name was
Blackbird. The old chief, Black Buffalo, who fed us on dog meat
when we were on our way from St. Louis to Taos, ten years before,
having died, Blackbird was appointed in his place, and we found
him to be a very intelligent Indian. He said his people were glad
to have us come among them and that they would be pleased to trade
with us.
We stayed there about two weeks before offering to buy a hide or
fur of them, but would show our goods quite frequently in order to
make them anxious, and by doing so we would be able to make a
better bargain with them.
After staying there about two weeks we told the chief that on a
certain day we would be ready to trade with his people, putting
the date off about one week.
When the day arrived the Indians came in from all quarters to
trade furs and robes, bringing from one to one dozen robes to the
family. The squaws brought the robes, and the bucks came along to
do the trading, and we got many a first-class robe for one string
of beads, which in St. Louis would cost about ten cents. We traded
for enough furs in one day to load our entire pack-train of
thirty-two horses.
The next morning we loaded up our furs and pulled out, telling the
chief that we would be back in one moon--meaning in their
language, one month--which would keep us busy, it being about four
hundred miles to Bent's Fort, and as we were heavily loaded we
would have to travel slow. The Mexican boy would ride ahead and
the pack horses would follow him, while Jim and I brought up the
rear. We experienced no trouble in getting all the buffalo meat we
wanted, for those beasts were quite tame at this season of the
year, and they would often come near our camp. So near, in fact,
that we could sit in camp and kill our meat.
Upon our arrival at the fort Col. Bent and Mr. Roubidoux were well
pleased with the success of the trip, and we at once started back
after the second load. We found more furs and robes there awaiting
our arrival than we could load on our horses. In all we made four
trips that winter, and Col. Bent told me some time afterward that
they cleared a thousand dollars on each cargo.
When spring came Jim Bridger and I went to Taos and visited Uncle
Kit for about a month.
This was now the spring of 1859 and the excitement over the gold
mines around Pike's Peak was running high. We all knew where
Pike's Peak was, for any day when it was clear we could see it
very plainly from Bent's Fort or Taos, but we did not know just
where the mines were. Jim proposed that we take a trip out there
and see about the mines. So we talked the matter over until I was
finally attacked with that disease which was then known as "the
gold fever."
About the first of June we made a break for the gold fields. We
crossed the Arkansas river near Fountain ca-booyah (or something
like that)--(Fountain qui Bouille, Boiling Fountain)--and did not
go far from there until we struck a wagon road, which showed there
had been much travel, and we could see that it had not been long
since a wagon passed.
We were very much surprised at a wagon road in this portion of
country, but there it was just the same. We did not travel on this
road very far until we overtook a large train of emigrants, and on
making inquiry we learned that they were on their way to Pike's
Peak.
Jim Bridger laughingly remarked: "If you are not careful you will
pass Pike's Peak before you go there, for there is the mountain,"
pointing to the Peak, the foot of which we were just then passing.
At this another man said: "We are going to Cherry creek to the
mines. Do you know how far it is?"
I told him it was twenty miles to the head of Cherry creek. He
then asked me how far it was to Denver. I told him I had never
heard of any creek or river by that name in this country. "But,"
he said, "I mean Denver City." But Jim and I had never heard of
the place. He said Denver City was on Cherry creek in the gold
mines.
We passed on, crossing the main divide between the Arkansas and
the Platte rivers, striking the head of Cherry creek, then
traveled down Cherry creek to the mouth, on a now well-beaten
wagon road, the dust in places being six inches deep or more.
When we were within a mile of the mouth of Cherry creek I looked
ahead, and for the first time I saw Denver, there being then as I
supposed about fifty tents and campers' houses in the place. We
stopped to take a look around and saw people coming in, every hour
of the day, over the Platte and Arkansas river routes, and could
see all kind of conveyances from a hand cart to a six-horse team.
While there I saw a number of carts come in drawn by men alone,
all the way from two to eight men to the cart.
After stopping around Denver two days and taking in the sights, we
pulled out for the mountains to a place called Gregory, about
forty miles from Denver, where it was reported they were mining.
The mines were located on North Clear creek and there were only
two claims being worked.
Gregory, the man that this little camp was named for, was working
a claim and said he was taking out some gold, and a man by the
name of Greene Russell was working another claim.
They were both old Georgia miners.
This man Russell told me how the excitement got started. He said
that himself, Gregory and Dr. Russell, a brother of his, and three
other men had come out there the fall before, and early that
season had discovered gold on Cherry creek, and also a little on
the mountain stream where they were then at work. Dr. Russell
being a man of family, concluded to return to his home that fall.
He and the rest of the crowd cautioned him to say nothing about
what they had struck, for they did not consider they had found
anything to warrant an excitement and a stampede, as it was termed
in mining parlance. The Doctor promised he would not mention it
even to his most intimate friends. But it seems he did not keep
his word, but commenced to spread the news as soon as he struck
the settlements, telling wonderful stories of the gold around
Pike's Peak, which set the people wild. They seemed to think there
had been another California struck which caused a repetition of
the stampede ten years before. During the winter the news spread
all over the State and they came from every quarter.
Russell continued: "Now you can see the effect of it. If I had
known my brother would have told such outrageous stories I would
not have allowed him to go home." He said he thought there were a
few claims outside of the ones they were working that would pay,
but beyond that he did not think it would amount to anything.
After remaining here one week we concluded we had gold mining
enough to last us some time, so we started back for the foot of
the mountains, and the first night we camped at the place where
Golden now stands, the place where South Clear creek flows from
the mountains.
At this time there were at least five hundred wagons to be seen at
one sight, camped on this creek. We camped near the crossing of
Clear creek, and there was almost a constant stream of people
coming in.
Late that evening four men came into camp with four yoke of oxen,
a wagon, and an outfit for mining and with a good suppy of grub--
enough to last them a whole season. They camped that night a few
yards from us. On finding that we had just returned from the mines
they came over to learn what news we had. We told them what we had
seen and what Mr. Russell told us.
After they had heard our story, one of them said. "Well, boys, I'm
a goin' back to Missouri. What are the balance of you goin' to
do?"
They talked the matter over for some time and finally all
concluded that old Missouri was a pretty good country and they
would all start back in the morning.
One of the crowd said: "What will we do with our provisions? We
can't haul it back for our cattle are so tender footed now that
they can hardly travel." Another said: "What we do not want
ourselves we will give to those hand-cart men over there." But
another one in the crowd who perhaps was more like the dog in the
manger that could not eat the hay himself nor would not let the
cows eat it, spoke up and said: "No, we will not do any such
thing! What we do not want to take along to eat on our way back we
will throw in the creek."
The next morning after they had eaten breakfast two of them got up
into the wagon and selected what provisions they wanted to take
along with them, after which they threw the remainder out on the
ground and the other two carried it and threw it into the creek.
It consisted of flour, dried fruit, bacon, sugar, and I noticed
one ten gallon keg of molasses.
I was told that this was an everyday occurrence. As we had seen
the elephant and had about all the mining we wanted, for awhile,
at least, we saddled up our horses and started for Taos, by the
way of Bent's Fort.
Three days' ride took us to Bent's Fort, and we had a thousand and
one questions to answer, for this was the first news they had got
from the mines around Pike's Peak.