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.
In the last chapter we have alluded to the friendly meeting, in the valley
of San Joaquin, of the American trappers with a party from Canada, sent
out by the Hudson's Bay Company. It is a remarkable fact, but one which
all will admit, that the Hudson's Bay Company maintained far more friendly
relations with the Indians than the Americans secured. In fact, they
seldom had any difficulty with them whatever. The following reasons seem
quite satisfactorily to explain this difference. It is said:
"The American trapper was not like the Hudson's Bay employees, bred to the
business. Oftener than any other way he was some wild youth who, after
some misdemeanor in the society of his native place, sought safety from
reproach or punishment in the wilderness. Or he was some disappointed man,
who with feelings embittered towards his fellows, preferred the seclusion
of the forest and mountain. Many were of a class disreputable everywhere,
who gladly embraced a life not subject to social laws. A few were brave,
independent and hardy spirits, who delighted in the hardships and wild
adventures their calling made necessary. All these men, the best with the
worst, were subject to no will but their own. And all experience goes to
prove that a life of perfect liberty is apt to degenerate into a life of
license.
"Even their own lives, and those of their companions, when it depended
upon their own prudence, were but lightly considered. The constant
presence of danger made them reckless. It is easy to conceive how, under
these circumstances, the natives and the foreigners grew to hate each
other, in the Indian country, especially after the Americans came to the
determination to 'shoot an Indian at sight.'
"On the other hand, the employees of the Hudson's Bay Company were many of
them half-breeds, or full-blooded Indians of the Iroquois nation, towards
whom nearly all the tribes were kindly disposed. Even the Frenchmen, who
trapped for this Company, were well liked by the Indians on account of
their suavity of manner, and the ease with which they adapted themselves
to savage life. They were trained to the life of a trapper, were subject
to the will of the Company, and were generally just and equitable in their
dealing with the Indians. Most of them also had native wives, and
half-breed children, and were regarded as relatives. There was a wide
difference."
It was the month of September when Mr. Young and his party set out on
their return. The homeward route was essentially the same which they had
already traversed. They made a brief visit at the Mission of San Fernando,
and then pressed on to the flourishing Mission village of Los Angelos.
This City of the Angels, as it was called, from the salubrity of the
climate and the beauty of the scenery, was on a small river about four
hundred and fifty miles southeast from the present site of San Francisco.
Here Mr. Carson was introduced to a scene of refined, and polished life,
such as he had never witnessed before. He was informed that a Spanish
gentleman of wealth was residing, at the distance of a few miles, on one
of the most highly cultivated farms in the country. Young Carson, who
never allowed any opportunity of extending his knowledge to escape him,
dressed himself carefully in his best apparel, mounted a fine horse, well
caparisoned, and set out to pay the Spaniard a visit.
He reached the _ranche_, as the farm was called, dismounted at a wicket
gate, and having fastened his horse, walked up several rods, over a
gravelled-walk, and beneath an avenue of trees, with occasional clumps of
shrubs and flowers, until he reached the residence. It consisted of a
spacious one story edifice, built of sun-baked bricks, called _adobe_. The
dwelling was a hundred feet long, and the roof was rendered impenetrable
to rain, being covered with a thick coating of asphaltum, mingled with
sand. There was a spring of this valuable pitchy substance near the
village; and the roofs of all the houses in Los Angelos were similarly
covered.
A huge brass knocker was attached to the door. In response to its summons,
an Indian girl made her appearance, and ushered him into an elegantly
furnished parlor. There were several guitars lying about, with other
indications that there were ladies in the household. Soon the gentlemanly
owner of the farm appeared, in morning gown and slippers. He was a fine
looking man, of dignified address, and courteously he saluted the
stranger.
There was a native air of refinement about Kit Carson, with his highly
intellectual features, and his modest, self-possessed bearing, which
seemed always to win, at sight, interest and confidence. Carson
introduced himself as an American, though he spoke in the Spanish
language. His host, evidently much pleased with his guest, replied in
English, saying:
"I address you in your native tongue, which I presume is agreeable to you,
though you speak very good Spanish."
The parties were immediately on the most friendly terms. Carson sought
information which the Spanish gentleman was able and happy to give. It was
an early hour in the morning. Carson was invited to remain to breakfast,
and was soon conducted to the breakfast-room, where he was introduced to
the wife of his host, and several sons and daughters.
There was no restraint in conversation, as both parties could speak, with
equal apparent facility, the Spanish and the English. There was a young
gentleman from Massachusetts, a graduate from a New England college, who
was private tutor in the family. After breakfast the stranger was
conducted around the farm, and to the vineyard.
"I have more grapes," said the host, "than I know what to do with. Last
year I made more butts of wine than I could dispose of, and dried five
thousand pounds of raisins. I have travelled through Europe, and I think
that neither the valley of the Rhine nor the Tagus can produce such grapes
as ours. I think that the Los Angelos grape is indeed food for angels.
They are equal to the grapes of Eschol. You remember the heavy clusters
that were found there, so that two men carried one on a pole resting upon
their shoulders. See that vine now. It is six inches in diameter. And yet
it needs a prop to sustain the weight of the two clusters of grapes which
it bears."
"I have more oranges," he said, "than I can either use or give away. This
is the finest country the sun shines upon. We can live luxuriously upon
just what will grow on our own farms. But we cannot get rich. Our cattle
will only bring the value of the hides. Our horses are of little worth,
for there are plenty running wild, which a good huntsman can take with a
lasso. I think that we shall have the Americans with us before many years,
and, for my part, I hope we shall. The idea of the Californians generally,
as well as other Mexicans, that the Americans are too shrewd for them, is
true enough. But certainly there is plenty of room for a large population,
and I should prefer that the race that has most enterprise should come and
cultivate the country with us."
Thus the conversation continued for two hours. Young Carson modestly
suggested that it would be better if the Spaniards were less cruel in
breaking in their horses.
"Your horses," said he, "would make excellent buffalo hunters with proper
training. I have some horses at camp, that I intend shall see buffalo. But
why do you not deal gently with them when they are first caught? You might
thus preserve all the spirit they have in the herd. Pardon me, but I think
that in taming your horses you break their spirits."
"I sometimes think so too," the Spanish gentleman replied. "We mount one
just caught from the drove, and ride him until he becomes gentle from
exhaustion. Our custom is brought from Spain. It answers well enough with
us, where our horses go in droves; and when one is used up, we turn him
out and take up another."
When young Carson took his leave, the Spaniard, with true Castilian
courtesy, pressed his hand, thanked him for his visit, and promised to
return it at the camp. It was thus instinctively that Kit Carson,
naturally a gentleman, took his position among gentlemen.
In the meantime most of the rude trappers, seeming to be almost of a
different nature from Kit Carson, were indulging in a drunken carouse at
Los Angelos. They got into a brawl with the Mexicans. Knives were drawn,
wounds inflicted, and one Mexican was killed.
It became necessary to get these men away as soon as possible. Carson was
sent forward a day's march, with all who could be collected. The next day
Mr. Young followed, having with much difficulty gathered the remainder of
the band. Soon the party was reunited, and the men were recovered from
their shameful debauch. Then for nine days they vigorously continued their
march homeward, when they again reached the banks of the Colorado river,
not far from the spot where they had crossed it before.
Here they encamped for a few days, while most of the men ranged the stream
for many miles up and down, still very successfully setting their traps.
Carson, with half a dozen men, was left to guard the camp. It was a
responsible position. Nearly all the horses were there, and all the
treasures of furs which they had gathered in their long and laborious
excursion. As the animals were turned out to graze, the packs, which were
taken from them, were arranged in a circular form so as to enclose quite a
space, like a fortress. These bundles of furs not even a bullet could
penetrate. Thus Kit Carson reared for himself and men a rampart, as
General Jackson protected his troops with cotton bags at New Orleans.
Scarcely was this work completed, when a band of five hundred Indians was
seen approaching. As usual, they stopped at a short distance from the
fortified camp, and a few of the warriors, laying aside their arms and
expressing by words and gestures the utmost friendliness, came forward and
were admitted into the camp. They were followed by others. Soon there were
enough stalwart savages there easily to overpower, in a hand-to-hand
fight, the feeble garrison of but six men. Carson's suspicions were
excited, and watching their movements with an eagle eye, he soon
discovered that they all had concealed weapons.
Without the slightest apparent alarm he quietly summoned his men, with
their rifles, into one corner of the enclosure. Then in his usual soft
voice he directed each man to take deliberate aim at some one of the
prominent chiefs. He himself presented the muzzle of his rifle within a
few yards of the head of the leader of the now astonished and affrighted
party. This was all the work of a moment. Then calmly he said to the
leader, "leave this fort instantly or you are dead men." A moment of
hesitation on their part, a word of parleying would have been followed by
the simultaneous discharge of the rifles, and six of the warriors at
least, would have been numbered with the dead. In a moment the fort was
cleared, and the savages did not stop until they had got beyond the reach
of rifle bullets.
One of these Indians could speak Spanish. Thus Kit Carson again found the
inestimable advantage of his winter's studies in the cabin of Kin Cade.
The Indians, five hundred in number, might easily, at the expense of the
loss of a few lives, have overpowered the white men, and seized all their
animals and their goods. But Carson well knew their habits, and that they
would never hazard a contest where they must with certainty expect a
number of their own warriors to be slain. Friendly relations were opened
with the Indians, only two or three being admitted to the fort at a time.
The animals were tethered in the rich herbage within the protection of
their rifles and were carefully watched, night and day.
In a few days the men who had left the camp on a trapping expedition,
returned. The whole united company then followed down the south bank of
the Colorado, setting their traps every night, until they reached its tide
waters. From that point they struck over east to the river Gila, and
trapped up the western banks of that river until they reached the mouth of
the San Pedro, a distance of more than two hundred miles.
Their animals now were very heavily laden with furs, and they were in
great need of more beasts of burden. The following is the account which is
given of the manner in which they obtained a supply. It certainly looks
very suspicious. It is not improbable that the Indians, had they any
historians, would give a very different version of the story.
"Near the mouth of the San Pedro river they discovered a large herd of
horses and mules. On a closer examination they found that they were in
possession of a band of Indians, who had formerly given them some of their
gratuitous hostilities. Not having forgotten their former troubles with
these people, they determined to pay them off in their own coin by
depriving them of the herd. A short search sufficed to discover the Indian
camp. Without waiting an instant, they put their horses to their speed,
and charged in among the huts. The Indians were so completely taken by
surprise, that they became panic-struck, and fled in every direction. They
however rallied somewhat and a running fight commenced, which lasted some
time, but which did not change matters in favor of the Indians. The entire
herd fell into the possession of the trappers.
"On the same evening, after the men had wrapped themselves up in their
blankets, and laid down for sleep, and while enjoying their slumbers, a
noise reached their ears which sounded very much like distant thunder. But
a close application of the sense of hearing showed plainly that an enemy
was near at hand. Springing up, with rifle in hand, for generally in the
mountains a man's gun rests in the same blanket with himself, on all
sleeping occasions, they sallied forth to reconnoitre, and discovered a
few warriors driving along a band of at least two hundred horses. The
trappers comprehended instantly that the warriors had been to the Mexican
settlement in Sonora, on a thieving expedition, and that the horses had
changed hands, with only one party to the bargain. The opportunity to
instill a lesson on the savage marauders was too good to be lost.
"They saluted the thieves with a volley from their rifles, which, with the
bullets whizzing about their heads and bodies, so astonished them that
they seemed almost immediately to forget their stolen property, and to
think only of a precipitous flight. In a few moments the whites found
themselves masters of the field and also of the property. To return, the
animals to their owners was an impossibility. Mr. Young, therefore,
selected as many of the best horses as he needed for himself and men, and,
game being very scarce, killed two, and dried most of the meat for future
use, turning the remainder loose."
Such were the morals of the wilderness. Mr. Young resolved himself into a
court, of which he was legislator, judge, jury and executioner. The
property of others he could confiscate at pleasure, for his own use. The
Indians probably retaliated upon the first band of white men which came
within their power. And this retaliation would be deemed an act of wanton
savage barbarism demanding the extinction of a tribe.
Continuing their march up the Gila river, trapping all the way, from its
head waters they struck across the country to Santa Fe. Here they found a
ready market for their furs, at twelve dollars a pound. Their mules were
laden down with two thousand pounds. Thus the pecuniary results of the
trip amounted to the handsome sum of twenty four thousand dollars. The
trappers, flush with money, returned to Taos. The vagabonds of the party
soon squandered their earnings in rioting, and were then eager to set out
on another excursion. It was now April, 1830.
Young Carson was at this time a very handsome young man of twenty-one
years. He had obtained a high reputation, and his pockets were full of
money, with which he scarcely knew what to do. It is said that, for a
time, he was led astray by the convivial temptations with which he was
surrounded. To what length he went we cannot ascertain. There is no
available information upon this point. Perhaps the whole story is but one
of those slanders to which all men are exposed. One of his annalists
writes:
"Young Kit, at this period of his life, imitated the example set by his
elders, for he wished to be considered by them as an equal and a friend.
He however passed through this terrible ordeal, which most frequently
ruins its votary, and eventually came out brighter, clearer and more noble
for the conscience polish which he received. He contracted no bad habits,
but learned the usefulness and happiness of resisting temptation; and
became so well schooled that he was able, by the caution and advice of
wisdom founded on experience, to prevent many a promising and skilful hand
from grasping ruin in the same vortex."
In the fall of this year Kit joined another trapping expedition. Its
destination was to the innumerable streams and valleys among the Rocky
mountains. Mr. Fitzpatrick, a man of good reputation and a veteran
trapper, had charge of the party. Crossing a pass of the Rocky mountains,
they pursued their route in a direction nearly north, a distance of about
three hundred miles, till they reached the head waters of the Platte
river. They were now on the eastern side of those gigantic ranges which
form the central portion of the North American Continent.
Here, in the midst of the mountains, the winter was inclement, with
piercing blasts and deep snows. Still the trappers, warmly clad,
vigorously pursued both hunting and trapping, availing themselves of
every pleasant day. In inclement weather they gathered joyously around
their ample camp-fires, finding ever enough to do in cooking, dressing
their skins, repairing garments, making moccasins, and in keeping their
guns and knives in order. Some of these valleys were found sheltered and
sunny. Even in mid-winter there were days of genial warmth. They
occasionally changed their camp and trapped along the banks of the Green,
the Bear and the Salmon rivers.
During the winter one sad incident occurred. Four of the trappers who were
out in pursuit of game, were surrounded and overpowered by a numerous
party of Blackfeet Indians, and all were killed. There were buffaloes in
abundance in that region, and these animals found ample forage, as they
had the range of hundreds of miles, and instinct guided them to sheltered
and verdant glens. But in some of the narrow, wind-swept valleys the
animals of the trappers suffered from exposure and want of food. They were
kept alive by cutting down cottonwood trees and gathering the bark and
branches for fodder. But the trappers themselves, having abundance of
game, fared sumptuously.
The beaver is so intelligent that he is one of the most difficult animals
in the world to entrap. Marvellous stories are told by the hunters of his
sagacity. Many of the Indians believe that the beavers have human
intelligence. They say that the only difference between the beaver and the
Indian, is that the latter has been endowed by the Great Spirit with
capabilities to catch the former.
Among these bleak, barren, gigantic ridges there are many lovely valleys
to be found, scores of miles in length and width. Here are found two
extensive natural parks, of extraordinary beauty. Apparently no landscape
gardener could have laid them out more tastefully. There are wide-spread
lawns, sometimes level as a floor, sometimes gently undulating, smooth,
green and at times decorated with an almost inconceivable brilliance of
flowers. Here and there groves are sprinkled, entirely free from
underbrush. There are running streams and crystal lakelets. Birds of
brilliant plumage sport upon the waters. Buffaloes, often in immense
numbers, crop the luxuriant herbage. Deer, elks and antelopes bound over
these fields, reminding one of his childish visions of Paradise. In the
streams otter and beaver find favorite haunts.
During the winter, as business was a little dull, Kit Carson and four of
his companions set off on a private hunting expedition. They were gone
about six weeks. Soon after their return, in the latter part of January,
a party of Crow Indians, one very dark night, succeeded in stealthily
approaching the camp and in driving off nine of the animals which were
grazing at a short distance. It was not until morning that the loss was
discovered.
As usual Kit Carson was sent, at the head of twelve men, in pursuit of the
thieves. They selected their best horses, for it was certain that the
Indians would make no delay in their flight. It was found quite difficult
to follow their trail, for, during the night, a herd of several thousand
buffaloes had crossed and recrossed it, quite trampling it out of sight.
Still the sagacity of Carson triumphed, and after being baffled for a
short time, he again with certainty struck the trail.
For forty miles the pursuit was continued with much vigor. The horses then
began to give out. Night was approaching. Carson thought it necessary to
go into camp till morning, that the horses might be refreshed and
recruited. There was a grove near by. Just as they were entering it for
their sheltered encampment, Kit Carson saw the smoke of Indian fires at no
great distance in advance of him. He had no doubt that the smoke came from
the encampment of the party he was pursuing.
The Indians had fled from the north. Of course it would be from the north
that they would look for the approach of their pursuers. The southern
borders of their camp would consequently be less carefully guarded. The
trappers remained quietly in their hiding-place until midnight. They then
took a wide circuit, so as to approach the Indians from the south. The
savages seemed to have lost all fear of pursuit, for the gleam of their
triumphal fires shone far and wide, and the shouts of their barbaric
revelry resounded over the prairie.
Very cautiously Carson and his men approached, availing themselves of
every opportunity of concealment, creeping for a long distance upon their
hands and knees. Having arrived within half gunshot they gazed upon a very
singular spectacle, and one which would have been very alarming to any men
but those accustomed to the perils of the wilderness.
A large number of Indian warriors, painted, plumed and decorated in the
highest style of savage taste, were celebrating what they deemed a victory
over the white men. Their camp was in a beautiful grove, on what would be
called an undulating prairie. There was some broken ground which
facilitated the approach of the trappers. The nine horses they had stolen
were tethered in some rich grass, at a short distance from the encampment.
The Indians had erected two large huts, or wigwams, which, in their
caution, they had constructed partially as forts into which they could
retreat and protect themselves should they be attacked.
The large fires were burning hotly. At these fires they had roasted two
horses, and had feasted to satiety. They were now dancing franticly around
these fires, brandishing their weapons, shouting their rude songs of
defiance and exultation, interspersed with occasional bursts of the shrill
and piercing war-whoop. The savages outnumbered the trappers many to one.
They were also armed with rifles and had learned how to use them
skillfully. Thus, in view of a battle, the odds seemed fearfully against
the trappers.
It was a dark night in January, and a piercing winter wind swept the
prairie. Even savage muscles will get weary in the frenzied dance, and the
continuously repeated war-whoop will exhaust the most stentorian lungs.
Carson ordered his men to remain perfectly quiet in their concealment. As
they had but a scanty allowance of clothing, they suffered much from the
intense cold. Soon after midnight the savages threw themselves down around
the fires and most of them were soon soundly asleep.
Kit Carson then, with five of his companions, cautiously crept towards the
horses, drew out the picket-pins and led them a short distance to a place
of concealment nearer their own camp. Several of the party were then in
favor of returning, with their recovered property, as rapidly as possible.
They would have several hours advantage of the savages, and they thought
it not advisable to provoke a conflict with foes outnumbering them, and
who were also armed with rifles.
But Mr. Carson said, "our horses are exhausted. We cannot travel fast. We
shall certainly be pursued. The Indians can judge from our trail how few
we are in numbers. They are perfectly acquainted with the country. They
can select their point of attack. With their large numbers they can
surround us. First they will shoot our horses. Then we shall be on foot
and at their mercy. We now can take them by surprise. Our only safety
consists in so weakening them, and appalling them by the vehemence of our
attack, that they will have no heart to renew the conflict."
We do not profess to give Mr. Carson's precise words. These were his
views. They were so manifestly correct that all, at once, fell in with
them. The united party then again advanced, with rifles cocked and primed,
towards the Indian camp. The trappers were in the shade. The recumbent
forms of the sleeping Indians were revealed by the smouldering fires. When
they were within a few yards of the foe, an Indian dog gave the alarm.
Instantly every savage sprang to his feet, presenting a perfect target to
these marksmen who never missed their aim. There was almost an
instantaneous discharge of rifles and thirteen Indian warriors fell
weltering in their blood.
The rest, thus suddenly awoke from sound sleep, witnessing the sudden
carnage, and with no foe visible, fled precipitately to their forts. But
the trappers instantly reloaded their pieces and, secure from harm, in the
darkness, and behind the trees, struck with the bullet every exposed
Indian, and five more fell. This was an awful loss to the Indians. Still
they greatly outnumbered the whites. But they were caught in a trap. They
had neither food nor water in their forts. Not an Indian could creep from
them without encountering certain death.
Upon the dawn of day the Indians were able to ascertain that their foes
were but few in number. As the only possible resort, which could save them
from destruction, they decided to make a simultaneous rush, from the forts
into the grove, and to take their stand also behind the protection of the
trees. This would give them, with their superior numbers, the advantage
over the trappers. They were good marksmen with the rifle, and were
accustomed to that style of fighting. Mr. Carson was prepared for this
movement. They made the rush, and they met their doom. Thirteen more
warriors were struck down, either killed or severely wounded.
The Indians had now lost thirty-one warriors. Discouraged and appalled
they retreated. The way was now clear for the return of Kit Carson. The
savages made no attempts to obstruct their path. With all the horses which
had been stolen, and without a man injured, this Napoleon of the
wilderness re-entered the camp to be greeted by the cheers of his
comrades.