CHAPTER I.

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CHRISTOPHER CARSON

Familiarly Known as Kit Carson

The Pioneer of the West

by

JOHN S. C. ABBOTT

With Illustrations by Eleanor Greatorex

New York:

Dodd & Mead, No. 762 Broadway

1874

[Illustration]

Pioneers and Patriots of America

By JOHN S. C. ABBOTT

Each one volume, 12mo, illustrated, $1.50.

DANIEL BOONE

MILES STANDISH

FERDINAND DE SOTO

PETER STUYVESANT

KIT CARSON

DAVID CROCKETT.

Other Volumes in preparation

[Illustration]

PREFACE

It is a prominent object of this volume to bring to light the wild

adventures of the pioneers of this continent, in the solitudes of the

mountains, the prairies and the forests; often amidst hostile Indians, and

far away from the restraints and protection of civilization. This strange,

weird-like life is rapidly passing away, before the progress of

population, railroads and steamboats. But it is desirable that the memory

of it should not drift into oblivion. I think that almost every reader of

this narrative will be somewhat surprised, in its development of the

character of Christopher Carson. With energy and fearlessness

never surpassed, he was certainly one of the most gentle, upright, and

lovable of men. It is strange that the wilderness could have formed so

estimable a character. America will not permit the virtues of so

illustrious a son to be forgotten.

JOHN S.C. ABBOTT.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

Early Training.

Birth of Christopher Carson.--Perils of the Wilderness.--Necessary

Cautions.--Romance of the Forest.--The Far West.--The

Encampment.--The Cabin and the Fort.--Kit an Apprentice.--The

Alarm.--Destruction of a Trading Band.--The Battle and the

Flight.--Sufferings of the Fugitives.--Dreadful Fate of Mr.

Schenck.--Features of the Western Wilderness.--The March.

CHAPTER II.

Life in the Wilderness.

A Surgical Operation.--A Winter with Kin Cade.--Study of the

Languages and Geography.--Return towards Missouri.--Engagement with

a new Company and Strange Adventures.--The Rattlesnake.--Anecdote

of Kit Carson.--The Sahara.--New Engagements.--Trip to El

Paso.--Trapping and Hunting.--Prairie Scenery.--The Trapper's

Outfit.--Night Encampment.--Testimony of an Amateur Hunter.

CHAPTER III.

Among the Trappers.

The Discomfited Trappers.--The New Party Organized.--A Battle with

the Indians.--Trapping on the Colorado.--March to the

Sacramento.--The Friendly Indians.--Crossing the Desert.--Instinct

of the Mule.--The Enchanting Valley of the Colorado.--The Mission

of San Gabriel.--Vast Herds of Cattle.--The Mission of San

Fernando.--Adventures in the Valley of San Joaquin.--The Meeting of

two Trapping Bands.--Reasons for Kit Carson's Celebrity.--A

Military Expedition.--The Indian Horse Thieves.--The Pursuit and

Capture.

CHAPTER IV.

Conflicts with the Indians.

The American Trapper.--The Trapper of the Hudson's Bay

Company.--The Return Trip.--Polished Life in the Wilderness.--The

Spanish Gentlemen.--Council of the Trappers.--Self-possession of

Kit Carson.--The Camp Cleared of Intruders.--Robbing the

Robbers.--Sale of the Furs.--Mr. Fitzpatrick's Expedition.--Pains

and Pleasures of Rocky Mountain Life.--Pursuit of Indian Horse

Thieves.--Extraordinary Battle.

CHAPTER V.

Marches and Encampments.

The Encampment Among the Rocky Mountains.--The Attempted

Stampede.--Retreat and Pursuit by the Savages.--The Alarm.--Loss

of the Horses.--Their Recovery.--Enterprise of Kit Carson.--Fight

with the Indians.--The Litter for the Wounded.--Union of the two

Trapping Parties.--Successful Return to Taos.--Carson joins a

Trading Party.--Chivalric Adventures.--Attacked by Bears.

CHAPTER VI.

The Rendezvous.

Fair in the Wilderness.--The Encampment.--Dispersion of the

Trappers.--Hostility of the Blackfeet.--Camp on the Big Snake

River.--The Blackfeet Marauders.--The Pursuit.--The Calumet.--The

Battle.--Kit Carson wounded.--The Rencontre with Shunan.--The

Defeat and Humiliation of Shunan.--Remarkable Modesty of

Carson.--Testimony to Mr. Carson's Virtues.

CHAPTER VII.

War with the Blackfeet Indians.

Unsuccessful Trapping.--Disastrous March to Fort Hall.--The Feast

upon Horse-flesh.--The Hunting Expedition.--Its Rare

Attractions.--Dogged by the Blackfeet.--Safe Arrival at the

Fort.--All their Animals Stolen by the Indians.--Expedition to the

Blackfeet Country.--Winter Quarters with the Friendly

Indians.--Sufferings of the Animals.--Return to the Blackfeet

Country.--Battle with the Indians.--Incidents of the Battle.

CHAPTER VIII.

Encampments and Battles.

The Renewal of the Battle.--Peculiarities of the Fight.--The

Rout.--Encampment in the Indian Village.--Number of Trappers among

the Mountains.--The New Rendezvous.--Picturesque Scene of the

Encampment.--The Missionary and the Nobleman.--Brown's Hole.--The

Navajoes.--Kit Carson Purveyor at the Fort.--Trapping at the Black

Hills.--Again upon the Yellowstone.--Pleasant Winter

Quarters.--Signs of the Indians.--Severe Conflict.--Reappearance

of the Indians.--Their utter Discomfiture.

CHAPTER IX.

The Trapper's Elysium.

Trapping on the Missouri.--Attacked by the Blackfeet.--The

Battle.--Persevering Hostility of the Indians.--The Trappers

driven from the Country.--Repair to the North Fork.--Cheerful

Encampments.--Enchanting Scene.--Village of the Flatheads.--The

Blessings of Peace.--Carson's Knowledge of Languages.--Pleasant

Winter Quarters on the Big Snake River.--Successful

Trapping.--Winter at Brown's Hole.--Trip to Fort Bent.--Peculiar

Characters.--Williams and Mitchel.--Hunter at Fort

Bent.--Marriage.--Visit to the States.

CHAPTER X.

Fremont's Expedition.

Carson's Visit to his Childhood's Home.--On the

Steamer.--Introduction to Fremont.--Object of Fremont's

Expedition.--Joins the Expedition.--Organization of the Party.--The

Encampment.--Enchanting View.--Fording the Kansas.--The Stormy

Night.--The Boys on Guard.--The Alarm.--The Returning

Trappers.--The Homeless Adventurer.--Three Indians join the

Party.--First sight of the Buffaloes.--The Chase.

CHAPTER XI.

The Return of the Expedition.

Beautiful Prairie Scene.--Fate of the Buffalo Calf.--Vast Buffalo

Herds.--The Fourth of July on the Plains.--Journey up the South

Fork of the Platte.--Visit to Fort St. Vrain.--Remonstrance of the

Chiefs.--Second Marriage of Mr. Carson.--New Engagements.--Perilous

Ride to Santa Fe.--The Successful Mission.--The Noble Mexican

Boy.--Conflict with the Savages.--Discomfiture of the

Indians.--Fremont's Second Expedition.--Carson joins the

Party.--Course of the Expedition.--Arrival at the Great Salt Lake.

CHAPTER XII.

Marches and Battles.

Entering the Lake.--Dangerous Navigation.--The Return to

Camp.--Feast upon Horse Flesh.--Meeting the Indians.--Joyful

Meeting.--Return to Fort Hall.--Feasting at the Fort.--The Party

Diminished.--The Journey down Snake River.--Crossing the Sierra

Nevada.--Carson Rescues Fremont.--Fort Sutter.--Heroic Achievement

of Carson.--Disbanding the Party.--The third Expedition.--Crossing

the Desert.--Threatened by the Mexicans.--Fight with the

Indians.--The Surprise.--Chastisement of the Indians.

CHAPTER XIII.

The Dispatch Bearer.

Colonel Fremont.--Hazardous Undertaking of Kit Carson.--Carson's

Courage and Prudence.--Threatened Danger.--Interview with General

Kearney, and Results.--Severe Skirmish.--Wonderful Escape of

Carson.--Daring Adventure.--Fearful Suffering.--Lieutenant

Beale.--Carson's Journey to Washington.--Adventures on his Return.

CHAPTER XIV.

The Chivalry of the Wilderness.

Injustice of the Government.--Heroic Resolve of Mr. Carson.--Indian

Outrages.--The valley of Razado.--Barbaric Murders by Apaches.--An

Exciting Chase.--An Attractive Picture.--Plot of Fox

Overthrown.--Gift of Messrs. Brevoort and Weatherhead.--Adventure

with the Cheyennes.

CHAPTER XV.

Recollections of Mountain Life.

Character of the Native Indian.--The Caravan.--Interesting

Incident.--Effects of Cholera.--Commission of Joe Smith.--Snow on

the Mountains.--Government Appointment.--Adventure with three

Bears.--Journey to Los Angelos.--Mt. St. Bernardino.--The

Spring.--Character of Men.--Insubordination Quelled.--Suffering

for Water and Relief.--A Talk with Indians.

CHAPTER XVI.

Recollections of Mountain Life.

Position of The Spring.--The Cachè.--Kit Carson's Character and

Appearance.--Cool Bravery of a Mountain Trapper.--Untamed Character

of Many Hunters.--The Surveyor's Camp in an Indian

Territory.--Terrors from Indians.--Joe Walker.--A Mountain

Man.--Soda Lake.--Optical Illusion.--Camp on Beaver Lake.--The

Piyute Chief.--Conversation with Him.--An Alarm.--A Battle.

CHAPTER XVII.

Frontier Desperadoes and Savage Ferocity.

Original Friendliness of the Indians.--The River Pirates, Culbert

and Magilbray.--Capture of Beausoliel.--His Rescue by the Negro

Cacasotte.--The Cave in the Rock.--The Robber Mason.--His

Assassination.--Fate of the Assassins.--Hostility of the

Apaches.--Expedition of Lieutenant Davidson.--Carson's Testimony in

his Favor.--Flight of the Apaches.

CHAPTER XVIII.

The Last Days of Kit Carson.

The Hunting Party.--Profits of Sheep Raising.--Governmental

Appointment.--Carson's Talk with the Apaches.--His Home in

Taos.--His Character.--Death of Christopher Carson.

CHAPTER XIX.

The Last Hours of Kit Carson.

CHRISTOPHER CARSON.

CHAPTER I.

Early Training.

Birth of Christopher Carson.--Perils of the Wilderness.--Necessary

Cautions.--Romance of the Forest.--The Far West.--The

Encampment.--The Cabin and the Fort.--Kit an Apprentice.--The

Alarm.--Destruction of a Trading Band.--The Battle and the

Flight.--Sufferings of the Fugitives.--Dreadful Fate of Mr.

Schenck.--Features of the Western Wilderness.--The March.

Christopher Carson, whose renown as Kit Carson has reached almost every

ear in the country, was born in Madison county, Kentucky, on the 24th of

December, 1809. Large portions of Kentucky then consisted of an almost

pathless wilderness, with magnificent forests, free from underbrush, alive

with game, and with luxuriant meadows along the river banks, inviting the

settler's cabin and the plough.

There were then many Indians traversing those wilds. The fearless

emigrants, who ventured to rear their huts in such solitudes, found it

necessary ever to be prepared for an attack.

But very little reliance could be placed even in the friendly

protestations of the vagabond savages, ever prowling about, and almost as

devoid of intelligence or conscience, as the wolves which at midnight were

heard howling around the settler's door. The family of Mr. Carson occupied

a log cabin, which was bullet-proof, with portholes through which their

rifles could command every approach. Women and children were alike taught

the use of the rifle, that in case of an attack by any blood-thirsty gang,

the whole family might resolve itself into a military garrison. Not a tree

or stump was left, within musket shot of the house, behind which an Indian

could secrete himself.

Almost of necessity, under these circumstances, any bright, active boy

would become a skilful marksman. A small garden was cultivated where corn,

beans and a few other vegetables were raised, but the main subsistence of

the family consisted of the game with which forest, meadow and lake were

stored. The settler usually reared his cabin upon the banks of some stream

alive with fishes. There were no schools to take up the time of the boys;

no books to read. Wild geese, ducks and other water fowl, sported upon the

bosom of the river or the lake, whose waters no paddle wheel or even keel

disturbed. Wild turkeys, quails, and pigeons at times, swept the air like

clouds. And then there was the intense excitement of occasionally bringing

down a deer, and even of shooting a ferocious grizzly bear or wolf or

catamount. The romance of the sea creates a Robinson Crusoe. The still

greater romance of the forest creates a Kit Carson. It often makes even an

old man's blood thrill in his veins, to contemplate the wild and wondrous

adventures, which this majestic continent opened to the pioneers of half a

century ago.

Gradually, in Kentucky, the Indians disappeared, either dying off, or

pursuing their game in the unexplored realms nearer the setting sun.

Emigrants, from the East, in large numbers entered the State. Game, both

in forest and meadow, became scarce; and the father of Kit Carson, finding

settlers crowding him, actually rearing their huts within two or three

miles of his cabin, abandoned his home to find more room in the still more

distant West.

Christopher was then the youngest child, a babe but one year old. The

wilderness, west of them, was almost unexplored. But Mr. Carson, at his

blazing fireside, had heard from the Indians, and occasionally from some

adventurous white hunter, glowing accounts of the magnificent prairies,

rivers, lakes and forests of the far West, reposing in the solitude and

the silence which had reigned there since the dawn of the creation.

There were no roads through the wilderness. The guide of the emigrants was

the setting sun. Occasionally they could take advantage of some Indian

trail, trodden hard by the moccasined feet of the savages, in single file,

through countless generations. Through such a country, the father of Kit

Carson commenced a journey of several hundred miles, with his wife and

three or four children, Kit being an infant in arms. Unfortunately we are

not informed of any of the particulars of this journey. But we know, from

numerous other cases, what was its general character.

It must have occupied two or three weeks. All the family went on foot,

making about fifteen miles a day. They probably had two pack horses, laden

with pots and kettles, and a few other essential household and farming

utensils. Early in the afternoon Mr. Carson would begin to look about for

a suitable place of encampment for the night. He would find, if possible,

the picturesque banks of some running stream, where there was grass for

his horses, and a forest growth to furnish him with wood for his cabin and

for fire. If the weather were pleasant, with the prospect of a serene and

cloudless night, a very slight protection would be reared, and the weary

family, with a buffalo robe spread on the soft grass for a blanket, would

sleep far more sweetly in the open air, than most millionaires sleep in

tapestried halls and upon beds of down.

If clouds were gathering and menacing winds were wailing through the

tree-tops, the vigorous arm of Mr. Carson, with his sharp axe, would, in

an hour, rear a camp which could bid defiance to any ordinary storm. The

roof would be so thatched, with bark and long grass, as to be quite

impenetrable by the rain. Buffalo robes, and a few of the soft and

fragrant branches of the hemlock tree, would create a couch which a prince

might envy. Perhaps, as they came along, they had shot a turkey or a brace

of ducks, or a deer, from whose fat haunches they have cut the tenderest

venison. Any one could step out with his rifle and soon return with a

supper.

While Mr. Carson, with his eldest son, was building the camp, the eldest

girl would hold the baby, and Mrs. Carson would cook such a repast of

dainty viands, as, when we consider the appetites, Delmonico never

furnished. It was life in the "Adirondacks," with the additional advantage

that those who were enjoying it, were inured to fatigue, and could have no

sense of discomfort, from the absence of conveniences to which they were

accustomed.

If in the darkness of midnight, the tempest rose and roared through the

tree-tops, with crushing thunder, and floods of rain, the family was

lulled to sounder sleep by these requiems of nature, or awoke to enjoy the

sublimity of the scene, whose grandeur those in lowly life are often able

fully to appreciate, though they may not have language with which to

express their emotions.

The family crossed the Mississippi river, we know not how, perhaps in the

birch canoe of some friendly Indian, perhaps on a raft, swimming the

horses. They then continued their journey two hundred miles farther west,

till they reached a spot far enough from neighbors and from civilization

to suit the taste even of Mr. Carson. This was at the close of the year

1810. There was no State or even Territory of Missouri then. But seven

years before, in 1803, France had ceded to the United States the vast

unexplored regions, whose boundaries even, were scarcely defined, but

which were then called Upper Louisiana.

Here Mr. Carson seems to have reached a very congenial home. He found,

scattered through the wilderness, a few white people, trappers, hunters,

wanderers who had preceded him. The Indians, in numerous bands, as hunters

and as warriors, were roving these wilds. They could not be relied upon,

whatever their friendly professions. Any wrong which they might receive

from any individual white man, their peculiar code of morals told them

they might rightly attempt to redress by wreaking their vengeance upon any

pale face, however innocent he might be. Thus hundreds of Indian warriors

might, at any time, come swooping down upon Mr. Carson's cabin, laying it

in ashes, and burying their tomahawks in the brains of his family.

The few white men, some half a dozen in number, who had gathered around

Mr. Carson, deemed it expedient for self-defence to unite and build a

large log cabin, which should be to them both a house and a fort. This

building of logs, quite long and but one story high, was pierced, at

several points, with portholes, through which the muzzles of the rifles

could be thrust. As an additional precaution they surrounded this house

with palisades, consisting of sticks of timber, six or eight inches in

diameter, and about ten feet high, planted as closely as possible

together. These palisades were also pierced with portholes.

With a practiced eye, these men had selected a very beautiful spot for

their habitation, in what is now called Howard county, Missouri, just

north of the Missouri river. It seems that they had much to fear from the

Indians. There were at this time, frequent wars with them, in the more

eastern portions of the continent, and the rumors of these conflicts

reached the ears of all the roving tribes, and greatly excited them. It

became necessary for the settlers to go upon their hunting excursions with

much caution.

As the months passed rapidly away, other persons one after another, came

to their fort. They were glad to find a safe retreat there, and were

welcomed as giving additional strength to the little garrison. Game began

to be scarce around their lonely habitation, for the crack of the rifle

was almost incessantly heard there. It thus became necessary to resort

more generally to farming, especially to raising large fields of corn,

whose golden ears could easily be converted into pork and into bread. With

these two articles of food, cornbread and bacon, life could be hilarious

on the frontier. Keenness of appetite supplied the want of all other

delicacies.

When they went to the cornfield to work, they first made a careful

exploration of the region around, to see if there were any lurking savages

near. Then with their guns ever ready to be grasped, and keeping a close

lookout for signs of danger, they ploughed and sowed and gathered in their

harvest.

Thus fifteen years passed away. Civilization made gradual encroachments.

Quite a little cluster of log huts was reared in the vicinity, where the

inmates in case of necessity could flee to the fort for protection.

Christopher, at fifteen years of age, was an unlettered boy, small in

stature, but very fond of the solitude of the forest, and quite renowned

as a marksman. He was amiable in disposition, gentle in his manners, and

in all respects a good boy. He had a strong character. Whatever he

undertook, he quietly and without any boasting performed. With sound

judgment, and endowed with singular strength and elasticity, he was even

then deemed equal to any man in all the requirements of frontier life.

[Illustration]

At a short distance from the fort there was a saddler, and Mr. Carson,

with the advice of friends, decided to apprentice his son, now called Kit,

to learn that trade. The boy remained in this employment for two weary

years. Though faithful to every duty, and gaining the respect and

confidence of his employer, the work was uncongenial to him. He longed for

the freedom of the wilderness; for the sublime scenes of nature, to which

such a life would introduce him; for the exciting chase of the buffalo,

and the lucrative pursuits of the trapper, floating on distant streams in

the birch canoe, and loading his bark with rich furs, which ever commanded

a ready sale.

All these little settlements were clustered around some protecting fort. A

man, who was brought up in the remote West, furnishes the following

interesting incident in his own personal experience. It gives a very

graphic description of the alarms to which these pioneers were exposed:

"The fort to which my father belonged was three-quarters of a mile from

his farm. But when this fort went to decay and was unfit for use, a new

one was built near our own house. I well remember, when a little boy, the

family were sometimes waked up in the dead of night by an express, with

the report that the Indians were at hand. The express came softly to the

door and by a gentle tapping raised the family. This was easily done, as

an habitual fear made us ever watchful, and sensible to the slightest

alarm. The whole family were instantly in motion.

"My father seized his gun and other implements of war. My mother waked up

and dressed the children as well as she could. Being myself the oldest of

the children, I had to take my share of the burdens to be carried to the

fort. There was no possibility of getting a horse in the night to aid us.

Besides the little children we caught up such articles of clothing and

provisions as we could get hold of in the dark, for we durst not light a

candle or even stir the fire. All this was done with the utmost dispatch

and in the silence of death. The greatest care was taken not to awaken

the youngest child.

"To the rest it was enough to say _Indian_, and not a whisper was heard

afterward. Thus it often happened that the whole number belonging to a

fort, who were in the evening at their homes, were all in their little

fortress before the dawn of the next morning. In the course of the next

day their household furniture was brought in by men under arms. Some

families belonging to each fort were much less under the influence of fear

than others. These often, after an alarm had subsided, in spite of every

remonstrance, would remove home, while their more prudent neighbors

remained in the fort. Such families were denominated _fool-hardy_, and

gave no small amount of trouble by creating such frequent necessities of

sending runners to warn them of their danger, and sometimes parties of our

men to protect them during their removal."

While Kit Carson was impatiently at work on the bench of the

harness-maker, feeding his soul with the stories, often greatly

exaggerated, of the wonders of scenes and adventures to be encountered in

the boundless West, a party of traders came along, who were on the route

for Santa Fe. This city, renowned in the annals of the West, was the

capital of the Spanish province of New Mexico. It was situated more than

a thousand miles from Missouri, and contained a mongrel population of

about three thousand souls. Goods from the States could be readily sold

there at a profit of one or two hundred per cent. Cotton cloth brought

three dollars a yard.

Captain Pike, upon his return from his exploring tour, brought back quite

glowing accounts of Santa Fe and its surroundings. It was a long and

perilous journey from Missouri. The party was all strongly armed, with

their goods borne in packs upon mules and horses. They expected to live

almost entirely upon the game they could shoot by the way. Kit, purely

from the love of adventure, applied to join them. Gladly was he received.

Though but a boy of eighteen, his stable character, his vigorous strength,

and his training in all the mysteries of frontier life, rendered him an

invaluable acquisition.

The perils to which they were exposed may be inferred from the fate which

some traders encountered soon after Kit Carson's party had accomplished

the journey. There were twelve traders returning from Santa Fe. To avoid

the Indians they took an extreme southern route. Day after day they toiled

along, encountering no savages. It was December, and in that climate mild

and serene. A caravan of twenty horses or mules travelling in single

file, leaves a trail behind which can easily be followed.

Our adventurers were on a treeless prairie, an ocean of land, where

nothing obstructed the view to the remote horizon. One beautiful morning,

just after they had taken their breakfast and resumed their march, they

perceived, not a little to their alarm, some moving object far in the

distance behind. It soon resolved itself into a band of several hundred

Indians, well mounted, painted and decorated in the highest style of

barbaric art. They were thoroughly armed with their deadly bows and arrows

and spears. It was indeed an imposing spectacle as these savage warriors

on their fleet steeds, with their long hair and pennons streaming in the

wind, came down upon them.

The little caravan halted and prepared for defence. There were twelve bold

hearts to encounter several hundred foes on the open prairie. They knew

that the main object of the Indians would be to seize the horses and mules

and effect a stampede with their treasure. This being accomplished they

would torture and murder the traders in mere wantonness. The savages had a

very salutary caution of rifles which could throw a bullet twice as far as

the strongest bow and the most sinewy arm could speed an arrow.

With the swoop of the whirlwind they approached until they came within

gun-shot distance, when they as suddenly stopped. Each trader had fastened

his horse or mule with a rope and an iron pin two feet long driven firmly

into the ground. They knew that if they were captured a cruel death

awaited them. They therefore prepared to sell their lives as dearly as

possible. There was no trunk or tree, or stone behind which either party

could hide. The open prairie covered with grass was smooth as a floor.

For a short time both bands stood looking at each other. The traders in a

small group had every man his rifle. Had the Indians in their resistless

strength come rushing simultaneously upon them, they could easily have

been trampled into the dust. But it was equally certain that twelve

bullets, with unerring aim, would have pierced the hearts of twelve of

their warriors. The Indians were very chary of their own lives. They were

never ready for a fight in the open field, however great might be the odds

in their favor.

The savages having halted and conferred together, endeavored to assume a

friendly attitude. With a great show of brotherly feeling they cautiously

approached one by one. The traders not wishing to commence the conflict,

began to move on, leading their animals and with their rifles cocked,

watching every movement of the intruders. The mounted Indians followed

along, quite surrounding with their large numbers the little band of white

men.

Two of the mules lagged a little behind. One or two of the bolder of the

savages made a dash at them and shot dead a man by the name of Pratt, who

had them in charge. It was the signal of battle. A shower of arrows fell

upon the traders, another man dropped dead, and an arrow buried its head

in the thigh of another. Several of the Indians also fell. But the savages

manifested a great dread of the rifle; and though they were forty to one

against the white men, they retreated to a safe distance. As they felt

sure of their victims, they did not wish to peril their own lives.

The traders hastily took the packs from the mules and piled them around

for a barricade. The Indians were very wary. But by entirely surrounding

the little fort and creeping through the long grass they succeeded in a

few hours in shooting every one of the mules and horses of the traders.

The savages kept up an incessant howling, and thirty-six dreadful hours

thus passed away. It seemed but a prolongation of death's agonies. Hunger

and thirst would ere long destroy them, even though they should escape the

arrow and the tomahawk. It was not deemed wise to expend a single charge

of powder or a bullet, unless sure of their aim. And the Indians crept so

near, prostrated in the long grass, that not a head could be raised above

the frail ramparts without encountering the whiz of arrows.

The day passed away. Night came and went. Another day dawned, and the

hours lingered slowly along, while the traders lay flat upon the ground,

cramped in their narrow limits, awaiting apparently the sure approach of

death.

The night was dark, dense clouds obscuring the sky. The Indians themselves

had become somewhat weary, and deeming it impossible for their victims to

escape and feeling sure of the booty, which could by no possibility be

removed, relaxed their watchfulness. As any death was preferable to

captivity and torture by the Indians, the traders resolved, in the gloom

of midnight to attempt an escape, though the chances were a hundred to one

that they would be almost buried beneath the arrows of the howling

savages.

Cautiously they emerged from their hiding-place, creeping slowly and

almost breathlessly through the tall grass of the prairie, till quite to

their surprise, they found themselves beyond the circle of the besiegers.

There were ten men, one wounded, fleeing for life, expecting every moment

to be pursued by five hundred savages. It was a long, dark, dismal

winter's night, for in that changing clime a freezing night succeeded a

sunny day. Like spectres they fled over the open prairie. That their

flight might not be encumbered they had taken nothing with them but their

guns and ammunition.

They were determined men. In whatever numbers and with whatever speed the

mounted Indians might ride down upon them, ten of their warriors would

inevitably bite the dust ere the fugitives could be taken. The Indians

fully understood this. And when the morning dawned and they saw that their

victims had escaped, instead of pursuing, they satisfied their valor in

holding a triumphant powwow over the rich booty they had gained.

It was a chill day and the wind moaned dismally over the bleak prairie.

But as far as the eye could extend no foe could be seen. Not even a tree

obscured the vision. The exhaustion of the fugitives, from their

thirty-six hours of sleeplessness and battle, and their rapid flight, was

extreme. They shot a few prairie chickens, built a small fire of dried

buffalo chips with which they cooked their frugal breakfast, and then,

lying down upon the rank grass, slept soundly for a few hours.

They then pressed on their pathless way toward the rising sun. Through

weary days and nights they toiled on, through rain and cold, sleeping

often in stormy nights drenched, upon the bare soil, without even a

blanket to cover their shivering frames. Their feet became blistered.

Passing beyond the bounds of the open prairie, they sometimes found

themselves in bogs, sometimes in tangled forests. There were streams to be

waded or to be crossed upon such rude rafts as they could frame with their

hatchets. Their clothes hung in tatters around them, and, most deplorable

of all, their ammunition became expended.

For days they lived upon roots and the tender bark of trees. Some became

delirious, indeed some seemed quite insane through their sufferings. The

man who was wounded, Mr. Schenck, was a gentleman of intelligence and of

refinement and of distinguished family connections, from Ohio. A poetic

temperament had induced him to seek the romance of an adventure through

the unexplored wilderness.

After incredible sufferings his wound became so inflamed that it was

impossible for him to go any farther. Prostrate upon a mound in the forest

his comrades left him. They could do absolutely nothing for him. They

could not supply him with a morsel of food or with a cup of water. They

had no heart even to bid him adieu. Silently they tottered along, and Mr.

Schenck was left to die. Through what hours of suffering he lingered none

but God can tell. Not even his bones were ever found to shed any light

upon his sad fate.

So deep became the dejection of these wanderers that often for hours not

one word was spoken. They were lost in the wilderness and could only

direct their steps toward the rising sun. After leaving Mr. Schenck there

were but nine men remaining. They soon disagreed in reference to the route

to follow. This led to a separation, and five went in one direction and

four in another. The five, after wandering about in the endurance of

sufferings which can scarcely be conceived of, fell in with a party of

friendly Creek Indians, by whom they were rescued and treated with the

greatest humanity. Of the other four two only succeeded in escaping from

the mazes of the wilderness.

Such were the perils upon which the youthful Kit Carson was now entering

from the pure love of adventure. He was not uninformed respecting these

dangers. The knowledge of them did but add to the zest of the enterprise.

Crossing the plains of the interior of our Continent from the Missouri

river to the Rocky mountains, was a very different undertaking half a

century ago, from what it has been in more modern times. The route was

then almost entirely unexplored. There were no charts to guide. The bold

adventurers knew not where they would find springs of water, where forage

for their animals, where they would enter upon verdureless deserts, where

they could find fording-places of the broad and rapid rivers which they

might encounter on their way.

This is not a forest-covered continent. The vast plains of the interior,

whether smooth or undulating or rugged, spread far away for weary leagues,

almost treeless. The forest was found mainly skirting the streams. Immense

herds of buffaloes, often numbering ten or twenty thousand, grazed upon

these rich and boundless pastures. Timid deer and droves of wild horses,

almost countless in numbers, here luxuriated in a congenial home. There

was scarcely a white man in the land whose eyes had ever beheld the cliffs

of the Rocky mountains. And each Indian tribe had its hunting-grounds

marked out with considerable precision, beyond which even the boldest

braves seldom ventured to wander.

About a score of men started upon this trip. They were thoroughly armed,

practiced marksmen, well mounted and each man led a pack mule, heavily

laden with goods for the Santa Fe market. Their leader was

commander-in-chief, whom all were bound implicitly to obey. He led the

company, selecting the route, and he decided when and where to encamp.

The procession followed usually in single file, a long line.

Early in the morning, at the sound of the bugle, all sprang from their

couches which nature had spread, and they spent no more time at their

toilet than did the horse or the cow. After a hurried breakfast they

commenced their march. Generally an abundance of game was found on the

way. The animals always walked slowly along, being never put to the trot.

At noon the leader endeavored to find some spot near a running stream or a

spring, where the animals could find pasture. The resting for a couple of

hours gave them time for their dinner, which they had mainly picked up by

the way.

An hour or two before sundown the camping ground was selected, the animals

were tethered, often in luxuriant grass, and the hardy pioneers, by no

means immoderately fatigued by the day's journey, having eaten their

supper, which a good appetite rendered sumptuous, spent the time till

sleep closed their eyelids in telling stories and singing songs. A very

careful guard was set, and the adventurers enjoyed sound sleep till, with

the dawn, the bugle call again summoned them. Under ordinary circumstances

hardy men of a roving turn of mind, found very great attractions in this

adventurous life. They were by no means willing to exchange its

excitements for the monotonous labors of the field or the shop.