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.
Our explorers now pressed on for twenty-four hours without encountering
any molestation, though they saw many indications that the Indians were
hovering about their track. Hungry and weary, they reached Fort Lawson, on
the Sacramento river, where they tarried for a week to recruit. They then
followed down the river some distance, to the well-known camping-grounds,
"The Buttes."
War between the United States and Mexico was in active operation. Colonel
Fremont took the responsibility of capturing a weak Mexican post near by,
at Sonoma, where he obtained several cannon and some small arms. His
explorers being thus virtually resolved into an army, he marched, with Kit
Carson as nominal Lieutenant, for the capture of Monterey. Before he
reached there, the city was taken by an American squadron under Commodore
Sloat. Colonel Fremont obtained a ship to convey him, with his fast friend
Kit Carson, and one hundred and fifty bold mountaineers, who had attached
themselves to his fortunes, a few hundred miles down the coast, to San
Diego. Thence he marched upon Los Angelos.
It was becoming important to have some communication with Washington. To
send dispatches around by the cape, required a voyage of weary months. To
reach the capital by land, it was necessary to traverse an almost pathless
wilderness four thousand miles in extent. Whoever should undertake such an
enterprise, must not only live upon such food as he could pick up by the
way, but also be exposed to attack from innumerable bands of hostile
savages, urged on by still more hostile Mexicans.
On the fifteenth of September, 1846, Kit Carson undertook this hazardous
enterprise. He was placed in command of fifteen picked men. The utmost
vigilance was necessary every step of the way. He was instructed to make
the journey in sixty days. For two days, he pressed on his way without
molestation. The third day, he came suddenly in view of a large encampment
of Apache Indians. Each party discovered the other at the same moment.
There was instantly great commotion in the Indian camp; the warriors
running to and fro in preparation for a fight.
Mr. Carson, acquainted with their language, and also familiar with all
their customs, saw at once that his only safety consisted in reckless
courage. He halted his little band, and assuming an air of entire
unconcern, rode forward till he came within speaking distance, and of
course within arrow distance of hundreds of plumed and painted warriors.
He was entirely at their mercy. They might instantly pierce him, and
almost bury him beneath a shower of arrows. The chief of the white men
being thus killed, the rest of the party would fall easily a prey to their
overpowering numbers. Carson shouted out to them:
"I come to you as a friend, and I ask for a parley."
Two or three warriors then came forward and with the usual preliminaries,
held a brief conference. They could without any difficulty have seized
upon Carson and held him as a hostage. But he knew that his only possible
safety was in this apparent act of desperation. Having smoked the pipe of
peace, he said to them:
"We come to you as friendly travellers, seeking only a passage through
your country. We come to you as brothers, presenting the olive branch of
peace. We do not wish to harm you. We ask only for your friendship. Our
animals are weary. We would exchange them for those that are fresh. We
will pay you well for the exchange."
If that be eloquence which moves the heart, this was eloquence. It changed
the hearts of the Indians. Friendly demonstrations immediately took the
place of preparations for a bloody fight. Carson pitched his camp at a
short distance from the Apaches. His prudence, as well as his courage, was
developed. He selected a site where in case of treachery, he could make a
vigorous defence. Every man had rifle, revolver, and knife. Every man was
instructed, while assuming an air of entire trust in the Indians, to be
constantly on the watch. There was to be no surrender. In case of attack,
every man was to sell his life as dearly as possible. The calm,
self-possessed, invincible spirit of this wonderful man was infused into
all his followers. Fifteen such men with rifles, revolvers, and knives,
would make terrible havoc among a crowd of Indian warriors, before they
could all be cold in death.
As soon as the camp was arranged, the Indians were allowed to come in.
They smoked and feasted, and traded together, in the most friendly manner.
Carson remounted all his men on fresh and vigorous steeds. The next
morning he went on his way rejoicing.
Nearly a month passed away, as this heroic little band, with tireless
diligence, pressed along their pathless route towards the rising sun. With
the utmost caution, Mr. Carson avoided the Indian trails, making a path
for himself. He would often make a wide circuit, that he might not cross
hunting grounds where his experience taught him that Indian hunting bands
would probably be encountered.
It was a bright and beautiful morning, the sixth of October, that they
entered upon the western edge of a smooth, treeless prairie extending to
the east as far as the eye could reach. Soon after the morning sun began
to flood that ocean of waving flowers with its rays, the keen eye of
Carson discerned in the extreme east, a small speck, like the sail of a
ship at sea. He watched it, it moved. Slowly it increased in size. It soon
developed itself into the front of a numerous band of warriors. His
anxiety was great. It was not wise to attempt flight over the boundless
prairie.
As the column drew nearer, he discovered to his great joy that it was a
detachment of United States troops. The expedition had been sent out by
the government, to operate under General Kearney, in California. As the
two parties met, General Kearney sent for Mr. Carson, and after a little
conversation with him, decided to entrust his dispatches to Mr.
Fitzpatrick, to convey them to Washington, while he should attach Mr.
Carson to his staff as a guide, of which he stood greatly in need. Upon
informing Mr. Carson of this his decision, the modest reply of the pioneer
was, "As the General thinks best."
Mr. Carson now was invested with the responsible office of guiding the
footsteps of this army over these almost boundless plains. This duty he so
performed as to receive the highest commendation of General Kearney. And
his dignified character was such as to win the confidence and respect of
every man in the army. The worst of men can often appreciate high moral
excellence.
Early in December the army had reached California, and were approaching
San Diego. On the sixth, the scouts brought the news that a numerous party
of Mexicans were strongly intrenched a few miles before them, to dispute
their passage. Fifteen men were sent forward as an advanced guard, under
the guidance of Kit Carson, to drive in the outposts, and capture any
loose animals which might be found. A very fierce battle ensued. These
Californian Mexicans developed a degree of bravery and determination
totally unexpected, and which could not have been exceeded.
Quite a number of troops had come up to assist in carrying an important
post. In addition to the fifteen men with Carson, there were two companies
of United States dragoons, and twenty-five California volunteers. These
determined men, all well mounted, formed a very imposing column for the
charge. Mr. Carson was in the front rank of the column. As the horses were
plunging forward upon the foe, Mr. Carson's horse, from some inequality in
the ground, fell, throwing his rider over his head with such violence as
to break his gun-stock in several pieces. Carson was slightly stunned by
the fall, and the whole troop of horse galloped over him. It seems a
miracle that he was not trampled to death. Though severely bruised, no
bones were broken.
Upon recovering, and finding his own gun useless, he looked around and saw
a dead dragoon. Seizing his gun, he rushed forward into the thickest of
the fight. It is probable that the fall of his horse saved his life.
Nearly the whole of the head of the charging column was cut off by the
bullets of the foe. The Mexicans were soon driven from their post, and
fled on swift horses. But the Americans suffered terribly. Large numbers
were killed.
The Mexicans soon rallied with reinforcements and resumed the battle. The
advanced guard of the Americans was driven back and compelled to act upon
the defensive. We have not space here to give, in detail, the victories
and defeats of these fierce conflicts. Most of these California Mexicans
were of the bravest blood of Spain. And they fought as if determined to
perpetuate their ancestral renown.
When near San Diego, Kearney's force was surrounded by three or four times
its number, and were starving. The men were feeding upon the mules. Even
that resource seemed almost exhausted. The utter ruin of the army seemed
inevitable. A council of war was held. Carson was present. He was a man of
few words. When he spoke, all listened. In his soft, feminine voice he
said:
"I think I may be able to creep in the night, through the Mexican lines. I
can hasten then to San Diego, and inform Commodore Stockton of our peril.
He will hasten to the rescue. I am willing to try."
Immediately Lieutenant Beale, of the United States Navy, one of the most
heroic of men, added, "I will go with him." General Kearney accepted the
noble offer. In its desperation was his only hope.
The camp was encircled by three concentric rows of sentinels. They were
mounted, and rode incessantly to and fro, through their short patrols.
Night came. It was dark. Carson and Beale crept out from the camp, on
their hands and feet, feeling for the tall grass, the slight depressions
in the ground, the shade of the thickets. They had shoes instead of
moccasins. As they crept along foot by foot in breathless silence, the
stiff soles of the shoes would sometimes hit a stone or a stick, and make
a slight noise. They drew off their shoes and pushed them under their
belts. Occasionally they were within a few feet of the sentinels, whom
they could dimly discern.
They had passed the first line of sentinels, and the second, and were just
beginning to breathe a little more freely when a sentinel rode up to
within a few feet of the spot where they were lying still as death, and
but slightly concealed in the tall grass. By daylight they would have been
instantly seen. To their terror the sentinel was mounted, and alighting
with flint and steel began to strike a light to indulge in the comfort of
his pipe. The flame of a piece of paper would reveal them. The suspense
was terrible. So still did they lie and so intense were their inward
throbbings that Mr. Carson afterwards affirmed that he could actually hear
Lieutenant Beale's heart pulsate.
Providentially the Mexican lighted his pipe, and remounting rode in the
other direction. For a distance of nearly two miles Carson and Beale thus
crept along, working their way through the Mexican lines. Having left the
last sentinel behind them, they regained their feet and felt for their
shoes. They were gone. Thus far they had not interchanged even a whisper.
Though the worst peril was now over, they had still many dangers to
encounter, and fearful suffering. It would not do to advance upon San
Diego by any of the well-trodden trails, all of which were closely watched
by the enemy's scouts. Carson chose a circuitous route over rocks and
hills, where their feet were dreadfully lacerated by the prickly pear.
All the next day, with feet torn and bleeding, they toiled along, feeding
upon whatever they could find, which would in the slightest degree appease
the gnawings of hunger. Another night spread its gloom around them. Still
onward was the march of our heroes. About midnight, Carson discovered,
from a slight eminence, the dim outline of the houses in San Diego. They
approached the American sentinels, announced themselves as friends, and
were conducted to Commodore Stockton. He immediately dispatched one
hundred and seventy men with a heavy piece of ordnance, and with
directions to march day and night, for the relief of Kearney.
The Mexicans hearing of their approach, knowing that they would be
attacked both in front and rear, fled. Kearney and his army were saved.
Carson and Beale had rescued them.
The main army of the Mexicans was now at Los Angelos, about a hundred and
twenty miles north from San Diego. They had a strongly intrenched camp
there; garrisoned by about seven hundred men. Kearney and Fremont united
their forces to attack them. Carson was again with his friend Fremont. The
Mexicans were driven away, and the American army took up its winter
quarters during two or three cold and dreary months.
In the month of March, 1847, Mr. Carson was directed to carry important
dispatches to Washington. Lieutenant Beale, who never recovered from the
hardships he encountered in his flight to San Diego, was permitted to
accompany him. As we have mentioned, it was a journey of four thousand
miles. It was accomplished in three months. In reference to this adventure
Mr. Carson writes:
"Lieutenant Beale went with me as bearer of dispatches, intended for the
Navy Department. During the first twenty days of our journey he was so
weak that I had to lift him on and off his riding animal. I did not think
for some time that he could live, but I bestowed as much care and
attention on him as any one could have done, under the circumstances.
Before the fatiguing and dangerous part of our route was passed over, he
had so far recovered as to be able to take care of himself.
"For my attention, which was only my duty to my friend, I was doubly
repaid, by the kindness shown to me by his family while I staid in
Washington, which was more than I had any reason for expecting, and which
will never be forgotten by me."
On this expedition, Kit Carson was provided with a guard of ten or twelve
picked men, veteran mountaineers. They took an extremely southern route.
Having journeyed about four hundred miles without meeting any hostile
encounter, they reached the Gila, a tributary of the lower Colorado. Here
Mr. Carson had evidence that a band of hostile Indians, keeping always out
of sight, were dogging his path, watching for an opportunity to attack him
by surprise. Their route led over a vast prairie, where there were no
natural defences. They cooked their supper early in the evening, and
wrapped in their blankets, threw themselves on the grass for sleep. Mr.
Carson, aware that the cunning Indians might be, watching all his
movements, as soon as it was dark, ordered his men to rise, march forward
in the darkness more than a mile, again to picket their animals, and then
to arrange their pack-saddles so as to protect them from the arrows of the
Indians. In case of an attack they were to lie perfectly still, and not
speak a word. It would be of no use to fire, for no savage would be within
sight. If the Indians ventured into the camp, they were then, with rifle,
and revolver and knife, to assail them with the utmost desperation.
At midnight the yell of the savage was heard, and a shower of arrows fell
around. They had not ascertained with accuracy the position of the
travellers. They dared not approach near enough to see, for in that case
they could be seen, and the bullet would certainly strike them. After many
random shots, and many unearthly yells, the discomfited savages fled. They
dared not await the dawn of the day, when upon the open prairie, their
arrows would be powerless weapons against rifles. In all these
journeyings, Mr. Carson was so cautious that one not acquainted with his
well balanced character, might deem him wanting in courage. Not a tree, a
rock, a bush, or any other place where an Indian might hide, escaped his
notice. His eye was ever scanning the horizon to see if there were any
smoke indicating an Indian's fire, or any flight of crows hovering over a
spot where Indians had recently encamped. The ground he was ever watching
in search of the pressure of the horse's unshod foot, or of the Indian's
moccasin.
Colonel Fremont had married the daughter of Missouri's illustrious
Senator, Hon. Thomas H. Benton. Mr. Carson, upon his arrival at St. Louis,
was taken immediately to Mr. Benton's home, where he was treated with
every attention, and where he enjoyed the pleasure of an introduction to
the most distinguished men of the city. As in the continuance of his
journey he stepped upon the platform of the depot in Washington, Mrs.
Fremont was there, with her carriage, to convey him as a guest to her
residence.
In the crowd landing from the cars, Mrs. Fremont recognized him at once,
from the description which her husband had given. Mr. Carson remained in
Washington for several weeks, greatly interested in the entirely new world
which was open to him there. His reputation had gone before him, and the
very best men in our land honored themselves in honoring Christopher
Carson. President Polk appointed him Lieutenant in the United States Rifle
Corps. He was then directed to return immediately across the continent as
bearer of important dispatches.
Arriving at Fort Leavenworth, in Kansas, he was there furnished with an
escort of fifty soldiers to accompany him across the plain. He reached the
eastern declivity of the Rocky mountains without important adventure.
Here, at a place called Point of Rocks, he overtook a party of United
States Volunteers, under command of Lieutenant Mulony. They were escorting
a large train of wagons to New Mexico. They encamped not far from each
other. Just before the break of day a band of Comanche Indians made an
attack upon the cattle of Mulony's party, and got possession of all the
oxen and of twenty-six horses.
Mr. Carson, ever on the alert, heard the tumult, and made a sudden and
impetuous charge upon the savages. He recovered all the oxen, but the
horses were effectually stampeded and lost. But for Mr. Carson, the cattle
also would have fallen into the hands of the Indians, which would have
been a great calamity. The next day Mr. Carson resumed his rapid march and
reached Santa Fe in safety. Here he left his escort in accordance with
orders, and hiring sixteen mountaineers, he proceeded on his journey.
Travelling rapidly, he came to Muddy Creek, a tributary of Virgin river.
Here he suddenly encountered a camp of three hundred Indians. He knew
their reputation as treacherous in the extreme. He threw up a little
rampart, forbidding the Indians to draw too near, and then held a parley
under the protection of his men. Thoroughly acquainted with the Indian
character, he seemed always to know the tone which it was best to assume.
Sternly addressing the chiefs, he said:
"I know your treachery. Your words of friendship cannot be believed. Not
long ago, you massacred seven Americans. You wish to gain admission to my
camp that you may kill us also. I will now allow you till midday to be
off. If any of you, after that, are within reach of our rifles you will
die."
Most of the Indians were overawed by this bold talk, and disappeared. A
few of the more desperate of the warriors lounged about, apparently
doubting his words. At the designated hour he ordered his men to take good
aim and fire. Though the Indians were at quite a distance, one of the
warriors fell instantly dead. Four others were severely wounded. Soon not
a savage was to be seen. Thus fifteen men under Carson, vanquished three
hundred Indians. "Better," said Napoleon, "is an army of deer led by a
lion, than an army of lions led by a deer."
Mr. Carson now pressed on to Monterey, and delivered his dispatches to
Colonel Mason. As acting lieutenant in the U.S. army he was placed at the
head of a company of dragoons, to guard Tajon Pass, the main outlet
through which robber Indian bands conveyed their booty from California to
the plains. After spending the winter very successfully in the discharge
of this duty, he was again ordered to proceed to Washington with
dispatches. Fifteen men were detailed to escort him on the way.