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.
On this second excursion of Mr. Carson to Washington as bearer of
dispatches, he learned at Santa Fe, that the Senate of the United States
had refused to confirm his appointment as lieutenant. It was a great
wrong. Party spirit then ran high at Washington. His friends at Santa Fe
advised him to resent the wrong, by delivering his dispatches to the
officer in command there, saying he could no longer serve a government
which refused to recognize him. His heroic reply was:
"I have been entrusted with these dispatches. I shall try to fulfill the
duty thus devolving upon me, if it cost me my life. This is service for my
country. It matters little, whether I perform it as lieutenant in the
army, or as a mountaineer. I certainly shall not shrink from duty because
the Senate does not confirm an appointment which I never sought."
In the then state of the country, there was perhaps not another man who
could have conveyed those dispatches over the almost boundless plains,
swarming with hostile Indians. It was well known at Santa Fe that the
Comanche savages, in bands of two or three hundred, were watching the old
Santa Fe road, for two or three hundred miles, that they might murder and
rob all who fell into their hands.
Carson resolved to make a trail of his own. He selected but ten men.
Pushing directly north, he reached a region which the Comanches seldom
visited. Then changing his route, he struck the Bijoux river, and followed
it down until within about twenty-five miles of its entrance into the
Platte. He then traversed the plains to Fort Kearney, and thence proceeded
to Fort Leavenworth without any molestation. His men and animals were in
fine condition. His trail, though very circuitous, had led him through a
country abounding in game, well watered and with a succession of rich
pastures. Here he dismissed his escort, and proceeded to Washington alone.
Having delivered his dispatches, he immediately set out on his return, and
reached his home in Taos in October, 1848. He had not been long at home,
before the Apache Indians in the vicinity were committing terrible
outrages. Colonel Beale, who was in command at Taos, learned that a large
party of the savages were upon the upper waters of the Arkansas, with
quite a number of white prisoners. He took two companies of dragoons, and
Kit Carson as a guide. Upon reaching the river, he found two hundred
Indians who had met there in grand council. The force of armed warriors
was so strong, and their passions so aroused, that Col. Beale deemed it
impossible to liberate the captives, who were Mexicans, by force. He
therefore returned to Taos, to resort to the more peaceful operations of
diplomacy.
There was at that time residing at Taos, an old mountaineer friend of Kit
Carson, by the name of Maxwell, who had become quite rich. Fifty miles
east from Taos, there is one of the most lovely valleys in the world
called Razado. Fringed with lofty hills of luxuriant foliage, with a
mountain stream meandering through the heart of the valley, and with the
fertile prairie extending on either side, waving with grass and flowers, a
scene is presented which is quite enchanting.
This valley Maxwell and Carson selected for their vast farms, or ranches,
as they were called, containing thousands of acres. Maxwell erected a
mansion which would be an ornament to any country town. Mr. Carson's
dwelling, though more modest, was tasteful, and abounding with comforts.
While earnestly engaged in developing and cultivating his farm, he heard
that an American merchant by the name of White, while approaching Santa Fe
in his private carriage, had been killed by the Apaches, and his wife and
only child were carried off by the savages.
A command was immediately organized to pursue the murderers, and rescue
the lady if possible. Kit Carson proffered his services for the
expedition. The first object was to find the trail. They soon reached the
place where the crime had been committed. The ground was strewn with
boxes, trunks and pieces of harness, etc., which the savages had not
thought it worth while to carry away. They struck the trail and followed
it for twelve days without overtaking the fugitives. At last their camp
was seen far away in the distance. Kit Carson was the first who caught a
glimpse of it. He urged that they should draw unseen as near the camp as
possible, and then make a sudden rush upon the Indians, with constant and
unerring discharges from their rifles. He said that the savages in their
consternation would run, each one to save his own life, without thinking
of their captives. If there were a few moments allowed them for thought,
they would certainly kill them before effecting their escape.
Unfortunately his counsel was not followed. There was hesitation, delay,
and talk of parley. At length they made the attack. The Indians fled
before them like deer. The body of Mrs. White was found in the camp, still
warm, with an arrow piercing her heart. The savages, on their fresh
horses, could not be overtaken by the wearied steeds of the dragoons. They
were pursued for six miles. One warrior was killed, and several wounded.
Sadly they returned. The little child of Mrs. White had annoyed the
Indians by its cries, and with one blow of a tomahawk, its skull had been
split open.
Mr. Carson speaking of this adventure modestly writes:
"I am certain that if the Indians had been charged immediately on our
arrival, Mrs. White would have been saved. Yet I cannot blame the
commanding officer, or the guide, for the action they took in the affair.
They evidently did as they thought best; but I have no doubt that they now
can see that if my advice had been taken, the life of Mrs. White might
have been spared."
The expedition however was not a failure. The Indians were severely
punished. Many of them fled with nothing but the scanty clothing they had
on. Mr. Carson returned to Razado. The winter passed peacefully away.
In the spring, a band of Apaches entered the valley, shot the two
herdsmen, and drove off a large number of animals. Kit Carson, at the head
of ten dragoons, set out in sharp pursuit. After a ride of twenty-five
miles, they came in sight of them, far away on the prairie. It was an open
chase. Soon four of the horses of the dragoons gave out. The remainder of
the party, consisting of Carson, six dragoons, and three settlers, pressed
on. They soon got near enough to count the numbers of the Indians. There
were twenty. Five of them were soon struck by rifle balls, and dropped
from their horses. The heroic band returned with the stolen property.
Mr. Carson was now a farmer. In May, 1856, accompanied by an old
mountaineer, he took fifty horses and mules to Fort Laramie, a distance of
five hundred miles, and sold them to advantage. He then set out for home
accompanied only by a Mexican boy. He remained at his farm through the
following summer, a peaceful, industrious, busy man, loving his home and
enjoying it. He had quite a number of Mexicans employed upon his large
farm, whose labors he superintended. Much of his time he employed in
hunting, thus abundantly supplying his large family with game. It is
written of him, at this time:
"Mounted on a fine horse, with his faithful dog and gun, early each day he
would start out on the prairies, to engage in the chase. In a few hours he
would return on foot with his noble hunter loaded down with choice game.
Sometimes it would be an antelope or elk. On another occasion it would
consist of black-tailed deer, which are celebrated as being the largest
and finest specimens of venison that roam the forests of any country, and
are only to be found in the Rocky mountains; on another, wild turkeys, and
then mountain grouse and prairie chickens, helped to complete the load.
When thus provided for, it is no wonder that Kit's workmen loved their
employment, and labored with good will.
"In his mountain home he was often visited by Indian friends who came to
smoke the pipe of peace with him, and to enjoy his hospitality. He saw
himself in possession of fine lands, well watered and well timbered. The
soil, unsurpassed in richness and fertility, was a safe and sure
depository for his seeds, telling him in its silent but unmistakable
language, of the harvest in store for him. His stock was the best which
heart could wish. And last, but not least, he was within a stone's throw
of splendid hunting-grounds."
During the summer two gentlemen, Messrs. Brevoort and Weatherhead, were
going to the United States from Santa Fe, with a large sum of money to
purchase goods. One of the worst of frontier vagabonds, a fellow by the
name of Fox, offered his services as guide, and to organize a company to
escort them over the plains. He was a shrewd and plausible scoundrel, and
his services were accepted. He enlisted a small but very energetic band of
desperadoes, and conspired with them to murder and rob the gentlemen on
the way. The deed was to be perpetrated when they should have got nearly
across the plains. The murderers could then divide the rich booty among
themselves, and scatter throughout the States.
One wretch who had been applied to to join the gang, but who for some
unknown reason had declined, divulged the plot when he thought that his
friend Fox was so far on his way that there was no danger of his being
overtaken and arrested. The rumors of the diabolical plot reached the ears
of Kit Carson. He knew Fox and his depraved associates well. The murder
was to be perpetrated when the party should reach Cimaron river, about
three hundred miles from Santa Fe.
In an hour the energetic man was mounted with a small band of his
employés, all upon the fleetest and most powerful steeds. Most of the
workmen on Mr. Carson's extended ranche were veteran pioneers. Every man
was well armed, and led a horse in addition to the one upon which he rode.
It was _possible_, and that was all, that by the most expeditious riding
the travellers might be overtaken before the bloody deed had been
performed.
Their path was over the open prairie. Onward they went as fast as their
steeds could be safely urged. The second night out, they came upon a
detachment of United States troops bound for California as recruits. The
officer in command, Captain Ewell, knowing that the plains were infested
with powerful bands of Indians, by whom the small party of Mr. Carson
might be cut off, generously joined him with twenty men, leaving the rest
of his party to proceed on their journey by slow marches.
They overtook the merchants just before they had reached the spot where
their lives were to be taken. Fox was at once arrested. Messrs.
Weatherhead and Brevoort were astounded when informed of the peril from
which they had been rescued. Fox was carried back to Santa Fe and placed
in jail. The merchants were entrusted to the care of fifteen men who could
be relied upon. The rest of the gang were ordered immediately to leave the
camp. Though their guilty designs were unquestioned, they would be
difficult of proof. The grateful merchants offered Kit Carson a large sum
of money for his heroic and successful efforts to save their lives. He
replied:
"It is a sufficient reward for me to have been instrumental in saving the
lives of two worthy citizens. I can not think of receiving one cent of
money."
They all met that night gratefully and joyously, around their camp fires.
With the exception of the guilty wretches who had been plotting murder,
all were very happy. The emotions excited were too deep to allow of
jollity. Indeed Kit Carson was never a jolly man. He had no taste for
revelry. As in every man of deep reflection and true greatness, the
pensive element predominated in his character.
It was a brilliant night, calm, serene and starlight. As Carson lay awake
at midnight, thanking God for what he had been enabled to accomplish, it
must have been an hour of sublimity to him, such as is rarely experienced
on earth. While most of the numerous party were sleeping soundly around
him, nothing could be heard but the howling of packs of prairie wolves,
and the heavy tread of the guards, as they walked their beats.
We can not doubt that Mr. Carson was in heart thoroughly a religious man.
It is the element of religion alone, which, in the midst of such
temptations, could form a character of such remarkable purity. He was too
reticent to speak of his own feelings and there were but few, if any, of
the thoughtless men around him who could appreciate his Christian
emotions.
Messrs. Brevoort and Weatherhead made a graceful acknowledgment of their
obligations to Mr. Carson for the invaluable service which he had rendered
them. In the following spring they presented him with a pair of
magnificent revolvers. Upon the silver mountings there was engraved a
brief narrative of his heroic achievement. Mr. Carson on his return to
Razado, found pleasant and constant employment in carrying on his farm and
providing many hungry mouths with game. His hospitable home was ever
crowded with guests.
Early in the summer he set out with Mr. Maxwell and a large train of
wagons, for the States. Leaving his animals and wagons on the Kansas
frontier, he descended the river to St. Louis in a steamboat. Here he
purchased a large stock of goods, and reascending the river, transferred
them to his caravan. He then started with his long train to return to New
Mexico. His route was through the rich pasturage to be found on the way
to Bent's Fort. Just before reaching the ford of the Arkansas, he fell in
with an encampment of Cheyenne warriors. They were greatly and justly
exasperated by an outrage inflicted upon them by a preceding party of
United States recruits. Kit Carson, though unconscious of this, perceived
at once that something was wrong. These Indians had been very friendly.
With his customary caution, he ordered the caravan to press forward as
rapidly as possible, through the country of the Cheyennes, while every man
was ordered to be constantly on guard. Having advanced about twenty miles,
he saw that the savage warriors were rapidly gathering around him, in ever
increasing numbers. Throwing up an intrenched camp, he rode out to within
hailing distance of an advanced party of the warriors, and proposed a
council. His friendly words in some degree conciliated them. They were
soon seated in a circle, and they smoked the pipe of peace. Carson had
addressed them through an interpreter. They did not suppose that the pale
face could understand their language. But he did understand it perfectly.
The savages began to talk very loudly among themselves. Carson,
understanding every word they said, listened eagerly, hoping to ascertain
the cause of their unexpected hostility. Openly, but as they thought
secretly, they discussed their plot, treacherously to disarm the whites of
their suspicion, and then to arise and massacre them all. With true
Indian cunning, they had arranged matters so that it would appear that
the Sioux Indians, had perpetrated the massacre, and that the white man's
vengeance might fall upon them.
Suddenly Carson sprang to his feet, ordered every man who attended him, to
be ready for immediate action. Then to the astonishment of the savages, in
pure Cheyenne, he said to them:
"You see that I understand all that you have said. Why do you wish for my
scalp? I have ever been the friend of your tribe. No one of you has ever
been injured by me. There are some here whom I have met in past years. If
they will turn to their memories, they will recall the former hunter of
Bent's Fort. I have eaten and drank with them. And now without any
provocation from me, you treacherously seek my life. If you do not
instantly leave this place, I will order you to be shot."
The warriors disappeared on swift feet. Kit Carson's change of dress had
so altered his appearance, that they did not at first recognize him. But
they had not forgotten his reputation. Though they had counted his armed
teamsters, and saw that they numbered fifteen, the Indian warriors held a
grand council, and probably the decision was to withdraw without an
attack. Perhaps they remembered their former friendship for Carson;
perhaps they were intimidated by his military prowess. At all events, he
was not again molested. The remainder of the journey to Razado was
accomplished in safety, though the vigilance of this distinguished leader
was not intermitted in the slightest degree for a single mile of the way.