The Fall Hunt--McCoy of the Hudson's Bay Company organizes a
Trapping Party which Kit Carson joins--The Hunt--Scarcity of
Beaver on Humboldt River--The Party is divided--Kit Carson
with a majority of the Men goes to Fort Hall--Hardships and
Privations met with--Buffalo Hunt--All their Animals stolen
in the Night by a Party of Blackfeet Indians--Arrival of McCoy
from Fort Walla Walla--The Rendezvous--Kit Carson joins a
strong Band--The Small Pox among the Blackfeet Indians--The
Crow Indians on good terms with the Whites--Intense
Cold--Immense Herds of Buffalo--Danger of their goring to
death the Horses--The Spring Hunt--The Blackfeet Indian
Village overtaken--A desperate Fight with these Indians--The
Rendezvous--Sir William Stuart and a favorite Missionary--Kit
Carson goes an a Trading Expedition to the Navajoe
Indians--The Return--He accepts the post of Hunter of the
Trading Post at Brown's Hole.
Arrangements for the fall hunt were now in active progress among the
trappers. Though the reader may find some similarity of fact and idea
as we progress in this part of the Life of Kit Carson, the interest
which hangs about it, nevertheless, will not, or should not be
dampened, because this pen-painting of his long and active experience
is a better and more faithful exhibit of those qualifications,
knowledge and skill which afterwards made him, first the guide and
then the bosom friend of the illustrious Fremont, than any assertions
whether authenticated by published record, whether rested upon
statement on knowledge, information and belief of acquaintances and
friends, or, whether facts taken from the thousand allusions to his
exploits which have from time to time flooded the press of the United
States.
The company of trappers which had been so fortunate as to secure the
services of Kit Carson, for facts seem now to warrant us in employing
this language of just praise, set out for the Yellow Stone River,
which stream they safely reached, and on which they set their traps.
Dame Fortune here seemed to be in unpleasant mood. Crossing the
country from the Yellow Stone to the Big Horn River, they again
courted the old lady's smile with stoical patience, but with no better
results. They next extended their efforts to the three forks of the
Missouri River; also, to the Big Snake River. The fickle old lady
proved scornful on all these streams, and finally, on the latter
stream and its tributaries they wintered.
In this section of the country they fell in with Mr. Thomas McCoy,
a trader who was in the employ of the Hudson's Bay Company. In his
trading operations Mr. McCoy had been unsuccessful and had concluded
to organize a trapping expedition. The inducements which he held out
led Kit Carson and five of his companions to become members of his
party. With him they traveled to Mary's River,[10] from whence reports
had circulated that beaver existed in great abundance. The party
struck upon this stream high up and slowly followed it down to
where it is lost in the Great Basin. Their success here was not
satisfactory; consequently, the party returned to the Big Snake River.
By McCoy's direction the party tarried upon this river for some time
when it was divided. McCoy and a small escort started for Fort Walla
Walla. Kit Carson and the majority of the men took up their line of
march for Fort Hall. While en route, the latter division was subjected
to the greatest privations imaginable. Among the worst of these was
hunger, as their trail led through a barren region of country. For a
short time, they managed to subsist upon a small supply of nutritious
roots which had been provided in advance. This source finally gave
out, when their affairs assumed a most desperate attitude. To keep
from starving, they bled their mules and drank the warm red blood with
avidity, so acutely had the days of fasting sharpened their appetites.
This operation, however could not be repeated without endangering the
lives of their animals. These also were on a short allowance of food,
for the grass was very poor and scanty. The whole party had become
frightfully reduced in strength, and began to think it necessary to
kill some of their animals, which at this time they could but ill
spare. In this terrible condition they met with a band of Indians who
proved to be of a friendly disposition. The party was then only
about four days' journey from Fort Hall. Most unhappily, the Indians
themselves possessed but a scanty supply of provisions, and no more
than their immediate wants required. It was not without considerable
manoeuvering and talk, during which all the skill and Indian
experience possessed by Kit Carson were brought into active
requisition, that the savages were prevailed upon to trade with the
trappers. By the trade the half famished men obtained a fat horse,
which was immediately killed, and on which they regaled with as much
relish as the epicure in the settlements enjoys his "joint of roast
beef."
[Footnote 10: We give the name which was applied to this river at the
date of the facts related in the text. It is now called the Humboldt
River.]
To a man not accustomed to this kind of meat, mule flesh and horse
flesh would not be likely to prove over tempting or appropriate
viands. Let him feel the pangs of hunger very sharply, and his ideas
of lusciousness and propriety in respect to food will rapidly change.
The civilized world has condemned the practice as belonging to
barbarians. A mountaineer, not being quite so fastidious, scouts these
ideas, considering them foolish prejudices of people who have never
been forced by necessity to test the wisdom of their condemnation. Let
the epicurean sages have their choice, eat horse flesh or starve,
and, they confidently maintain, horse flesh would gradually grow to be
considered a dainty, the rarer over beef, in proportion to its greater
cost.
The trappers of the western prairies, who wander thousands of miles
over barren as well as fertile lands, where game cannot exist from
stern necessity, are compelled to submit to all kinds of vicissitudes;
but, with buoyant spirits, they conquer results, which, a faint heart
and yielding courage would behold almost in their grasp but fail to
reach.
An emergency calls forth skill and great energies; and, in an
unexplored country where, as in the case here recorded, everything
living suddenly disappears, it is then that the wits of a trapper save
his life when an ordinary traveler would lie down and die.
Kit Carson and his men, at last, succeeded in reaching Fort Hall. They
were kindly received and amply provided for by the whites who then
occupied it as a trading post. Here they rapidly recruited their
strength, and in the course of a few days felt able to start out upon
a buffalo hunt. Reports had come in that large numbers of buffalo
existed in close proximity to the Fort. Kit Carson and his men were
not the kind who live upon the bounty of others when game can be had
in return for the necessary effort to find. They were also not the
men to hoard their stock of provisions whenever they met parties in
distress. The first query which different bands of trappers offer
to each other on meeting in the wilderness, is, "Does game exist in
plenty," or "is game plenty in such and such sections of country?"
This takes precedence over the commonplace question, "What's the
news?" Oftentimes, when venturing into distant and unexplored
districts of territory they were obliged to take their chances of
finding sustenance; but, they hardly ever neglected an opportunity
to inform themselves on the subject: on the contrary, they often
sacrificed both time and profits in order to secure correct details.
Any other course would have been fool-hardy rashness, just fit for
parties of over-bold inexperience to take the consequences of.
Hunting the buffalo is a manly and interesting sport; and, as Kit
Carson on this occasion engaged in it with successful results, it
might be interesting to the general reader, and, in this place the
unity of the narrative seems to require, a complete and practical
description of the manner of taking the buffalo. We have, however
deferred this part of our duty to an occasion when Kit Carson had
his friend John C. Fremont upon his first buffalo hunt. We shall then
permit the bold Explorer to tell the story of a buffalo hunt in our
behalf.[11]
[Footnote 11: See page 161.]
During their sojourn at Fort Hall, the hardy trappers were not idle.
Besides the calls upon them by the hunt, they set to work with great
industry repairing their saddles, clothing and moccasins. With the
aid of a few buck-skins, usually procured from Indians, and a few rude
tools, they soon accomplished wonders.
To give the reader an appropriate view of the genius to conquer
obstacles displayed by the mountaineers, he must picture one of them
just starting upon a long journey over the prairies and through
the mountains. His wagon and harness trappings, if he chances to be
possessed of worldly effects sufficient to warrant him in purchasing a
first-class outfit, present a neat and trim appearance. Follow him
to the point of his destination, and there the reader will discover,
perhaps, a hundredth part of the original vehicle and trappings.
While en route, the bold and self-reliant man has met with a hundred
accidents. He has been repeatedly called upon to mend and patch both
wagon and harness, besides his own clothing. Though he now presents a
dilapidated appearance, he is none the less a man; and, if his name
is known as a regular trapper and mountaineer, he is immediately a
welcomed and honored guest. If the broadcloth of a prince covered his
back, spotless, scientifically shaped and foreign woven, his reception
would not be more heartfelt and sincerely cordial. It is amusing to
see the raw-hide patches of harness, wagon and clothing, now become
dry and hard as oak. To have dispensed with the use of buckskin on his
route, would have been like cutting off the right arm of the gallant
pioneer. Buckskin and the western wilds of America are almost
synonymous terms; at least, the one suggests the other, and therefore
they are of the same brotherhood. The traveler in these regions of
this day fails not to learn and appreciate its value. It has not only
furnished material for clothing, but has been used to repair almost
every article in daily use. Even the camp and tea-kettle, as well as
the frying, milk and saucepan, bedstead and hammock, chair and table,
all have had their buckskin appendage, as fast as any of them have
become injured or broken.
Everything being in readiness, Carson set out with his followers for
their hunting-grounds. Their pace was one of so much rapidity, that
after one day's march they discovered signs of the buffalo. On the
following morning immense herds were in sight. A suitable place for a
camp was soon selected, and everything which could impede their work
well stowed away. The best marksmen were selected for hunters, and the
remainder of the party detailed to take care of the meat as fast
as the hunters should bring it in. Poles were planted on the open
prairies, and from one to the other ropes of hide were stretched. Upon
these ropes strips of the buffalo meat were hung for curing,
which consists of merely drying it in the sun's rays. After it is
sufficiently dried, it is taken down and bound up in bundles.
During the time of hunting and curing, the trappers feasted upon
the delicacies of the game, which consist of the tongue, liver and
peculiar fat which is found along the back of the buffalo. Their past
sufferings from hunger had made them so determined in the work of
procuring game, that in a few days they possessed meat sufficient to
load down all their pack animals. They now thought about returning to
Fort Hall. Their pace, however, rendered so by their weighty game, was
very slow. Their old enemies, the Blackfeet Indians, had discovered
them while engaged in this hunt. They followed them on the march to
the Fort, the trappers being wholly unaware of their presence; in
fact, the idea of hostile Indians had not troubled their thoughts.
Two or three nights after they arrived at the Fort, taking advantage
of a dark evening, the Indians deprived them of all their animals.
This was the result of carelessness on the part of one of the men,
which, under the circumstances, was excusable. The party had encamped
just without the pickets of the Fort, but had taken the precaution to
secure their horses and mules while they slept, by placing them in the
_corral_[12] belonging to the station. A sentinel was put upon duty
over the corral, in order to make everything doubly secure. In the
latter part of the night, nearly at daybreak, the sentinel saw two
persons advance and deliberately let down the bars leading into the
yard and drive out the animals. He mistook these men for two of
his companions who were authorized to take the herd out to graze.
Concluding, therefore, without going to them, that he was relieved,
he sought his resting-place and was soon fast asleep. In the morning,
anxious inquiries were made for the horses and mules, when a
very short investigation revealed the truth of matters. It was,
undoubtedly, very fortunate for the sentinel that he fell into the
error alluded to. It was very apparent that the two advanced Indians
who let down the bars were backed up by a strong party. The signs
of Indians, discovered afterwards, proved this beyond a doubt. Their
reserve party were posted where the least resistance on the part of
the sentinel would have been followed by his quick and certain death.
This successful theft was, no doubt, considered by the Indians a cause
for great rejoicing. It may have formed the basis of promoting the
brave who planned and directed it, as the animals had been obtained
without the loss of a man or even the receiving of a wound. The
parties living at the Fort were equally as poorly off for horses
and mules as were now the trappers. The same Indians had recently
performed the same trick upon them. The loss was most severely felt by
the trappers, inasmuch as they had not a single animal left upon which
to give chase. Nothing remained for them to enact, except a stoical
indifference over their loss and await the return of McCoy, who had
agreed, after finishing his business at Fort Walla Walla, to rejoin,
them at Fort Hall.
[Footnote 12: _Corral_, a barnyard.]
This tribe of Indians, the Blackfeet, whose meddlesome dispositions
have so frequently brought them in contact with Kit Carson in such and
dissimilar affairs, occupy the country on the Yellow Stone River and
about the head waters of the Missouri. There are other tribes in close
proximity, the most important of which is the tribe called the Crows.
When Kit Carson first entered upon his wild career the Blackfeet
Indians numbered nearly thirty thousand souls. They were greatly
reduced in numbers within the next six or seven years, between 1832
and 1839. In the last-named year, in consequence of the ravages of
the small pox, heretofore alluded to and which prevailed the
year previous, they had lost at least fifty per cent. The Indian
computations of 1850, according to Brownell, give their numbers at
only about thirteen thousand. They are one of the finest races of the
American Aborigines. Powerful in frame and development; well trained
in horsemanship, although in this they are surpassed by the Camanches;
capable of great endurance; and, usually well fitted as to arms,
dress, horse trappings, _et cætera_, they generally prove knotty
customers as enemies. We ought not to pass by this notice of the
Blackfeet Indians without calling the attention of the inquisitive
reader to a remarkable proof which is afforded by the whole
intercourse of these western trappers with the Blackfeet Indians, as
thus detailed by Kit Carson, of an assertion hazarded some years ago
by Charles De Wolf Brownell, in his admirable work upon the Indian
races of North and South America. On pages 465-6, Mr. Brownell comes
to the defence of the Crow tribe of Indians, which, up to that time,
had been characterized as a "lawless, thieving horde of savages."
"But," says Mr. Brownell, "those best acquainted with their character
and disposition, speak of them as honest and trustworthy." The
adventures of Kit Carson among both the Crow and the Blackfeet
Indians, we think, demonstrate pretty conclusively which of these
contiguous tribes are the horse stealers. The Crows, it will be
remembered, are more particularly inhabitants of the mountainous
regions. The Blackfeet have ever been their sworn and implacable foes.
Their burials of the hatchet have been few and far between, and
never in deep soil. It is not, therefore, to be wondered at that
the Blackfeet reputation should extend to the Crows; but, although
circumstances exist which condemn the latter, they are few in number
compared with the sins laid by the traders and trappers at the
tent-doors of the former.
After the lapse of one month McCoy made his appearance and, most
opportunely, brought an extra supply of animals. The camp was soon
struck and the whole band started for the rendezvous, which had been
appointed to convene at the mouth of Horse Creek on the Green River.
They reached this place after several days of hard travel. As usual,
trading operations did not commence until all the regular bands
of trappers had arrived and reported. They were then commenced and
continued through a period of twenty days. Here Kit Carson left the
company under McCoy and joined a company under the management of a
Mr. Fontenelle which numbered one hundred men. This party went to and
trapped on the Yellow Stone River. On commencing operations the party
was divided into fifty trappers and fifty keepers. The duties of the
former were to take the beaver and provide game for food. The latter
to guard their property and cook. The trappers were now in the midst
of their sworn foes, the Blackfeet Indians. They felt themselves
sufficiently strong and were desirous to pay off old scores. They
therefore trapped where they pleased, being determined to dispute
the right of possession to the country if attacked. They were not,
however, molested. A good reason appeared for this, soon after,
brought by some friendly Indians belonging to the Crow Tribe. They
informed the whites that the small pox was making terrible havoc with
the Blackfeet Indians. Thousands were dying and fears were entertained
that the whole tribe would be cut off. In order to attend to their
sick they had secluded themselves. The trapping season being nearly
over, as the streams began to freeze, the party commenced looking out
for a camping site.
In conjunction with the main body of the Crow nation they proceeded to
a well protected valley and erected their lodges, making themselves
as comfortable as possible under the circumstances. As the season
advanced, the cold became more severe, until at last, it was more
intense than ever before experienced by the trappers or Indians. Fuel,
however, was abundant, and, excepting the inconvenience of keeping
unusually large fires, they suffered but little. Not so with their
animals. It was with the greatest difficulty that they preserved
them from starvation. By the most unwearied exertions, however, they
succeeded in obtaining food enough barely to keep them alive until the
weather became more mild and auspicious. At one time the crisis was
so imminent, that the trappers were compelled to resort to cottonwood
trees, thawing the bark and small branches, after gathering them, by
their fires. This bark was torn from the trees in shreds sufficiently
small for the animals to masticate. The Indians of the Rocky
Mountains, when suffering from hunger, are often driven to the
extremity of eating this material. For miles, not unfrequently, the
traveler discovers these trees denuded of their bark, after a party
has passed through on their way to find the buffalo. The rough,
outside cuticle is discarded, and the tender texture, next to the body
of the tree, is the part selected for food. It will act in staying the
appetite, but cannot, for any great length of time, support life.
It is dangerous to allow starving animals to eat freely of it; the
trappers, therefore, feed it to them but sparingly.
The intense cold operated to bring upon them another serious annoyance
in the shape of immense herds of starving buffalo, which, goaded on
by the pangs of hunger, would watch for an opportunity to gore the
animals and steal their scanty allowance of provender. It was only by
building large fires in the valleys and constantly standing guard that
the trappers succeeded in keeping them off.
During the winter, to beguile the time, the whites vied with
their Indian allies in many of their sports. As game existed in
superabundance, always ready for a loaded rifle, both parties were
contented and happy. Time flew away rapidly and soon brought again the
sunshine of spring with the buds and blossoms, gay wild flowers, green
herbage and forest verdure. For the purpose of procuring supplies,
the trappers dispatched two messengers to Fort Laramie. They did not
return and were never again heard from. The conclusion which gained
belief was, that they had been murdered by the Sioux Indians. The
party waited as long as they possibly could for the return of their
two companions, but, finally, were compelled to commence the spring
hunt without them. They trapped a short time on the Yellow Stone
River and then went to the Twenty-Five-Yard River. From thence
they proceeded to the head waters of the Missouri, and, on the most
northern of its forks, remained some time, meeting with considerable
success. Here they obtained news of the Blackfeet Indians, which
showed that the ravages of the small pox had been greatly over
estimated. They were still nearly as strong, and in character, had not
at all become subdued. Upon drawing near to the source of this river,
they discovered that the main village of these savages, their old
foes, was in close proximity. This was pleasing intelligence to the
trappers. They had suffered too many unprovoked insults at their hands
not to desire the avenging of their wrongs and to punish them by way
of retaliation. During the whole winter, and, in fact, from the
time the party was first organized, they had anxiously abided their
opportunity to meet and punish the rascally Blackfeet warriors. The
old scores, or sores, had been festering too long, and here was a
chance to probe them satisfactorily.
The party cautiously followed upon the trail which led to the Indian
encampment until within one day's journey of it. Here they came to a
halt. Kit Carson, with five men, was sent in advance to reconnoitre.
Upon approaching the Indians, the reconnoitering party discovered them
busily engaged driving in their animals to saddle and pack, and
making such other preparations necessary to the effecting of a hurried
decampment. Kit and his companions hastened back and reported the
results of their observations. A council was immediately held which
decided to send out forty-three picked men to give battle; and, for
the commander of this party, Kit Carson was unanimously elected. The
fifty-five men left behind under Mr. Fontenelle had the onerous duty
of guarding the animals and equipage. It was a part of the programme,
also, that the latter force should move on slowly and act as a reserve
in case of need.
Kit Carson and his command were in fine spirits and lost no time in
overhauling the village. In the first charge they killed ten of the
bravest warriors. The savages quickly recovered from this blow and
commenced retreating in good order. For three consecutive hours they
heroically received a series of these furious and deadly assaults
without offering much resistance. At the end of this time the firing
of the mountaineers began to slacken, as their ammunition was running
low. These experienced and brave, though rascally Indians, soon
surmised the cause of this sudden change of affairs. Rallying their
forces, they turned upon their assailants in right good earnest and
a desperate hand-to-hand engagement ensued. The white men now had an
opportunity to use their small arms, which told with such terrible
effect upon their foes that they were soon driven back again. They,
however, rallied once more and charged so manfully that the trappers
were forced to retreat. In this latter engagement a horse belonging
to a mountaineer by the name of Cotton, fell, throwing his rider
and holding him on the ground by his weight. This happened as he was
passing a point of rocks. Six of the warriors, seeing the accident,
instantly hurried forward to take Cotton's scalp. But Kit Carson's
eagle eye was watching every part of the battle-field and discovered,
in time to be of service, the danger to which his friend was exposed.
Although some distance off, Kit sprang from his saddle, and, with
the leap of an antelope and the rallying cry for his men, was on the
ground, ready to make a certain shot. His aim and the crack of his
rifle almost belonged to the same instant of time. It was none the
less sure. The foremost warrior, a powerful savage, whose fingers
evidently itched for the scalp of the mountaineer, fell, shot through
the heart. By this time others had followed the bold example of their
leader, when the five remaining warriors, seeing the imminent danger
which threatened them, turned to run back into their band. But two of
them however reached a place of safety. The remainder, caught in
their fleet career by the unerring and death-dealing bullets of the
mountaineers, measured their lengths upon the battle-ground, stricken
with wounds which demanded and received from them their last wild
war-whoop.
[Illustration: Kit Carson's eagle eye was watching every part of the
battle-field and discovered, in time to be of service, the danger to
which his friend was exposed. Although some distance off, Kit sprang
from his saddle, and, with the leap of an antelope and the rallying
cry for his men, was on the ground ready to make a certain shot.--PAGE
120.]
When Kit Carson fired, his horse, being under no restraint, became
frightened and dashed away, leaving his brave rider on foot. Kit
however instantly comprehended his position. The fallen horseman had
succeeded in extricating himself, but not without difficulty, for
the ground was very uneven. He had received a few pretty severe
contusions, but was, notwithstanding these, worth a dozen Indians yet,
and failed not to show the fact. Seeing Cotton thus all right, Kit
Carson made his way to one of his companions, and, as the fighting
had, apparently by mutual consent, ceased for a few moments, mounted
up behind him and thus rejoined the main body of his men. The runaway
horse, after quite a chase, was soon captured by a trapper and
returned to his captain. A period of inactivity now reigned over the
battle-field, each party apparently waiting for the other to again
open the ball. During this resting spell, the reserve division of the
trappers came in sight, having been anxiously expected for some time.
The Indians showed no fear at this addition to the number of their
adversaries. On the contrary, being no doubt carried away by their
recent success in making a stand, they commenced posting themselves
among the rocks about one hundred and fifty yards distant from the
position taken up by the trappers. The arrival of the reserve was
a great relief to the advance, because, they were tired of fighting
without ammunition. Having well filled their ammunition pouches they
once more became eager for the affray. Everything being in readiness,
with a cheer, they started on foot to attack and dislodge the enemy.
In a few moments was commenced the severest skirmish of the day. It
became so exciting that frequently a trapper would occupy one side,
and a stalwart warrior the other, of some large rock, each intent
upon the life of his adversary. In such cases it required the closest
watchfulness and the utmost dexterity to kill or dislodge the bold
savage. The power of powder in the hands of skillful men soon began
to assert its superiority in the battle, and when once the Indians
commenced to waver, it was all over with them. Their first wavering
soon broke into a complete rout, when they ran for their lives. As
they scattered in every direction, the pursuit which followed was
short. In this battle the trappers considered that they had thoroughly
settled all outstanding accounts with the Blackfeet Indians, for they
had killed a large number of their warriors and wounded many more. On
their side three men only were killed and a few severely wounded.
Fontenelle and his men camped for a few days in the vicinity of the
scene of their late engagement, burying their dead and repairing
damages. They then resumed the business of trapping, traversing the
Blackfeet country whenever they chose without fear of molestation.
The success in their late engagement seemed to follow them in their
business, for their stock of fur accumulated rapidly.
While they were encamped upon Green River, an express rider, sent by
the traders, came into camp and informed the party that the rendezvous
would be held on Mud River. With a large stock of beaver, the party
started for that place, arriving in eight days.
Besides the usual traders and trappers, the party met at this
rendezvous some missionaries and a distinguished English nobleman, Sir
William Stuart. Of this latter gentleman, Kit Carson says: "For the
goodness of his heart and numerous rare qualities of mind, he will
always be remembered by those of the mountaineers who had the honor of
his acquaintance."
Among the missionaries was "Old Father De Smidt," as he afterwards
came to be familiarly called. This gentleman is at present well known
as being a leading literary and religious man at St. Louis, Missouri.
Perhaps there never was a person in the wilds of America who became
so universally beloved both by the white and red man. While in the
mountains, he acted with untiring zeal for the good of all with whom
he came into contact. Wherever duty called him, there he was sure
to be found, no matter what the obstacles or dangers spread upon
the path. He worked during a long series of years in these dangerous
localities, and accomplished much good. When, at last, he returned to
civilization, he left an indelible name behind him.
In twenty days after the camp at the rendezvous was formed, it broke
up again into small parties. Kit Carson, with seven companions, went
to Brown's Hole. This was a trading post. Here they found two traders
who were contemplating getting up a business expedition to the Navajoe
Indians. This tribe exhibits more traces of white blood than any other
of the wild races in North America. They are brave and fond of owning
large possessions. These consist chiefly of immense herds of fine
horses and sheep. In this respect they are not unlike the ancient
inhabitants of the earth, who "watched their roving store" on Syrian
soil and the contiguous countries. The parties who desired to trade
with them usually carried a stock of trinkets and articles of use, for
which they received horses, mules, blankets and lariets.[13]
[Footnote 13: A lariet is a beautifully made rope, manufactured from
hides and used for picketing horses out upon the prairies. They are
worth, in New Mexico, about two dollars each.]
Navajoe blankets are very celebrated in the far west of America, and
especially in old Mexico, where they are in great demand and command
high prices. Many of these articles are really beautiful, and, from
their fine texture, together with the great amount of labor spent in
their manufacture, are expensive, even when purchased of the Indians.
The art of weaving these blankets has been long known to the Navajoe
Indians; and, all the female children belonging to the nation are
taught the art during their earliest years. It is only after much
practice, however, that they become expert.
Kit Carson joined the two traders, whose names were Thompson and
Sinclair, and made the trip with them which they had planned. They
realized very handsomely from it, bringing back a large drove of very
fine mules. The animals were driven to the Fort on the South Fork
of the Platte, where they were disposed of at fair prices. Having
received his share of the profits, Kit returned again to Brown's
Hole. The season was too far gone for him to think of joining another
trapping expedition that fall. He therefore began to look about for
some suitable employment for the winter. As soon as it became known
that his services were open for an engagement, several offers were
made him, all of which he rejected. The reader will doubtless see a
contrast between the Kit Carson renowned as a trapper and hunter and
the Kit Carson who, at Taos, only a few years before, was glad to hire
out as a cook, in order to gain his daily sustenance. For some time,
strong inducements of high wages had been held out to him by the
occupants of the Fort, in order to prevail upon him to accept the
responsible and arduous office of Hunter to the Fort. The task of
supplying, by the aid of the rifle, all the flesh twenty men would
naturally consume during an entire winter, formed the duty required
and expected from this officer. The inducements were so tempting,
the task so congenial with his feelings, and, withal, the urgent
persuasions of the men so pressing, that Kit Carson finally accepted
the offer and entered upon his duties. He soon showed the company that
he knew his business, and could perform it with an ease and certainty
which failed not to elicit universal esteem and commendation. When
the time arrived for him to resign the office in the Spring, he left
behind him golden opinions of his skill as a marksman.