Arriving again in Taos, to carry into effect at once, the resolution he
had formed of establishing for himself a permanent home, he joined his
old friend Maxwell in the purpose of occupying a beautifully romantic
mountain valley, fifty miles east of Taos, called by the Indians Rayedo,
which would long since have been settled by the Mexicans, only it was
very much exposed to Indian depredations.
Through the centre of this valley flows a broad mountain stream, and,
for the loveliness of the scenery, or the fertility of its broad,
sloping basin, or the mountain supply of timber, there can scarcely be
found a spot to equal it. Carson and Maxwell established a settlement
about mid-way in the valley; and at the present date, have an imposing
little village, in which the houses of Carson and Maxwell are prominent
by reason of their greater dimensions, and indicate to the trader a
style of plenteous comfort, which, while it might offend the pale-faced
denizen of our most fashionable thoroughfares, the traveler, who has
learned to love nature and health, gazes upon with pleasure, and gladly
tarries to enjoy the patriarchal hospitality, and the sumptuous, almost
regal luxury of their hunter occupants, who "count their horses and
their cattle by the hundreds," and whose thousand sheep are on the
hills; whose larder is replenished from the still countless herds of
prairie oxen which roam through those magnificent plains, and the lesser
bands of speed-defying, beauteous quadrupeds of the hills, and the fleet
climbers of the rocks and big-horned mountain cliffs, and the flocks
that build their eyrie in their crags, all of which are occupants of the
sheep-pasture of these chevaliers of the wilderness, and in whose
court-yards may be seen specimens of this game, of which they are not
ashamed; for a young Carson has lassoed a little grizzly, while antelope
and young fawn feed from his sister's fingers.
Here too the Indian braves fear not to come and call the master of the
mansion, Father,--"Father Kit," is his long time appellation--and they
have learned to look on him and his, with all that reverence and
fondness with which grateful children look upon a worthy sire.
Carson cannot tarry at his pleasant home, much more than to care for its
necessary superintendence, for his life is the property of the public;
and to the quiet settlement of the Indians into the condition which is
happiest for them, so far as it can be secured in the condition of the
country and their own habitudes, is the work to which he has wisely
devoted himself. He has given to the Indians the best years of his ever
busy life, and gives them still, neglectful of immediate personal
comfort--or rather finding highest satisfaction in doing what is fittest
he should do, because it is the work in which he can accomplish the most
good.
In the vicinity of the home of Carson, and that of his friend Maxwell,
are gathered a number of their old comrades--men of the mountains, who
have survived the multitudinous and conflicting events which have come
over the spirit of the Yankee, and the activities of the Yankee nation,
since the business of trapping first became for her hardy sons a
lucrative employment; and here, in the society of each other, and the
conscious security of protection for each other, in a locality
congenial to their tastes, with occasional old time occupations, and
where the rivalries of their predilections can be still indulged, and
quietly maintained, they are ever ready after every test to concede to
Christopher Carson the palm of being _first_ as a hunter, _first_ as an
experienced traveler and guide through the mountain country, whether it
be by a route he has, or one he has never before traveled.
The stories of his exploits in defence of his neighbors and friends, and
to recover from the Indians property they had stolen, since he left the
service of the Army of the United States, would of themselves fill a
volume, and we have space to allude to but a very few.
A Mrs. White, the wife of a merchant of Santa Fe, had been taken captive
with her child, (which was soon killed before her eyes,) by a party of
Apaches, who had shot her husband, and all the men of his company,
before capturing her. A party of New Mexicans was at once organized to
pursue the Indian band, and effect Mrs. White's release if possible. The
guidance of this party was entrusted to a neighbor by the name of
Watkins Leroux, rather than to Carson. They found the Apache murderers,
and Carson was advancing foremost to attack them, when he discovered
that the rest of the party were not following; consequently he had to
retire, and when the commander ordered the attack to be made, it was too
late, for the Indians had murdered Mrs. White and were preparing to
escape by flight. Carson tells this story with all the generous
magnanimity a great soul exercises in speaking of a failure on the part
of a rival; admitting that, if his advice had been followed, they might
have saved Mrs. White, but affirming that the command "did what seemed
to it the best, and therefore no one has any right to find fault."
This occurred in the autumn of eighteen hundred and forty-nine, directly
after the commencement of the settlement of Rayedo.
Near the close of the following winter, all the animals belonging to the
party of ten dragoons which had been stationed there to protect the
settlement, were run off by the marauding Apaches, and the two herders
having them in charge, were wounded. Early the following morning, Carson
and three of the settlers with the ten dragoons, started in pursuit,
discovered the Indians--twenty well armed warriors--and four of the
party being obliged to stop, because their animals had given out, the
remaining ten rode down the Indians, who might themselves have escaped
but for their persistance in retaining the stolen horses, which were all
recaptured except four, while five of the warriors were killed, and
several more wounded. This expedition was planned and executed under the
direction of Carson, and the fact that he was their leader gave every
man confidence, as they knew that with him an engagement implied success
or death.
The next spring Carson went to Fort Laramie with a drove of horses and
mules, making the journey successfully and pleasantly in company with
Timothy Goodell, another old mountaineer, being the observed of all
observers to the large numbers of overland emigrants to California whom
he met at the fort, where Goodell left him to go to California.
Carson found a Mexican to attend him upon his return, and taking a
circuitous course, he managed to avoid the Apaches; often traveling by
moon-light, and taking their animals into a quiet nook, and climbing a
tree for a little sleep during the day, they finally reached the Mexican
settlements in safety.
The days of the following summer winged their happy flight with great
rapidity, while Carson was directing and aiding in his farming, and, of
course, pursuing his favorite employment of hunting, ever returning from
a hunt with his horse laden with deer or antelope, wild turkey and
ducks, or perhaps a half score or more of prairie chickens, to complete
the list. Only once was his work interrupted by the harsher business of
chastising offenders against justice, and this time the guilty parties
were two white men.
A party of desperadoes, so frequently the nuisance of a new country, had
formed a plot to murder and rob two wealthy citizens, whom they had
volunteered to accompany to the settlements in the States, and were
already many miles on their way, when Carson was informed of the
nefarious design. In one hour he had organized a party, and was on his
way in quick pursuit, taking a more direct route to intercept the party,
and endeavoring at the same time to avoid the vicinity of the Indians,
who were now especially hostile, but of whose movements Carson was as
well informed as any one could be. In two days out from Taos, they came
upon a camp of United States recruits, whose officer volunteered to
accompany him with twenty men, which offer was accepted, and by forced
marches they soon overtook the party of traders, and at once arrested
Fox, the leader of the wretches, and then proceeded to inform Messrs.
Brevoort and Weatherhead of the danger which they had escaped; and they,
though at first astounded by the disclosure, had noticed many things to
convince them that the plot would soon have been put in execution.
Taking the members of their party whom they knew were trusty, they at
once ordered the rest, thirty-five in number, to leave immediately,
except Fox, who remained in charge of Carson, to whom the traders were
abundant in their thanks for his timely interference in their behalf,
and who refused every offer of recompense.
Fox was taken to Taos, and imprisoned for a number of months; but as a
crime only in intent was difficult to be proved, and the _adobe_ walls
of their houses were not secure enough to retain one who cared to
release himself, Fox was at last liberated, and went to parts unknown.
On the return of Messrs. Brevoort and Weatherhead from St. Louis, they
presented Carson with a magnificent pair of pistols, upon whose silver
mounting were inscribed such words as would laconically illustrate his
noble deed, and the appreciation of the donors of the great service
rendered.
The summer following was consumed in an excursion for trade, on behalf
of himself and Maxwell, and a visit to the home of his daughter, now
married in St. Louis; and which was prosecuted without incident worthy
of note, until he came to a Cheyenne village on the Arkansas, upon his
return. This village had received an affront from the officer of a party
of United States troops bound to New Mexico, who had whipped one of
their chiefs, some ten days before the arrival of Carson; and to have
revenge upon some one of the whites, was now the passion of the whole
tribe.
The conduct of this officer is only a specimen of that which thousands
have exercised toward the Indians of the different tribes; and the
result is the same in all cases. Carson's was the first party to pass
the Indian village after this insult; and so many years had elapsed
since he was a hunter at Bent's Fort, and so much had this nation been
stirred by their numberless grievances, that Carson's name was no longer
a talisman of safety to his party, nor even of respect to himself, in
their then state of excitement; and as Carson went deliberately into the
war council, which the Indians were holding on the discovery of his
party, having ordered his men to keep their force close together, the
Indians supposing he could not understand them, continued to talk freely
of the manner of capturing the effects, and killing the whole party, and
especially himself, whom they at once concluded was the leader. When Kit
had heard all their plans, he coolly addressed them in the Cheyenne
language, telling them who he was, his former association with and
kindness to their tribe; and that now, he should be glad to render them
any assistance they might need; but as to their having his scalp, he
should claim the right of saying a word. The Indians departed, and
Carson went on his way; but there were hundreds of the Cheyennes in
sight upon the hills, and though they made no attack, Carson knew he was
in their power, nor had they given up the idea of taking his train. His
cool deliberation kept his men in spirits, and yet, except upon two or
three of the whole fifteen, he could place no reliance in an emergency.
At night the men and mules were all brought within the circle of wagons,
grass was cut with their sheath-knives, and brought into the mules, and
as large a guard was placed as possible. When all was quiet, Carson
called outside the camp with him a Mexican boy of the party, and
explaining to him the danger which threatened them, told him it was in
his power to save the lives of the company, and giving him instructions
how to proceed, sent him on alone to Rayedo, a journey of nearly three
hundred miles, to ask an escort of United States troops to be sent out
to meet him, telling the brave young Mexican to "put a good many miles
between him and the camp before morning;" and so he started him, with a
few rations of provisions, without telling the rest of the party that
such a step was necessary. This boy had long been in Carson's service,
and was well known to him as faithful and active, so that he had no
doubts as to the faithful execution of the trust confided to him; and in
a wild country like New Mexico, with the out-door life and habits of its
people, a journey like the one on which he was dispatched, was not an
unusual occurrence: indeed, in that country, parties on foot often
accompany those on horse, for days together, and do not seem to feel the
fatigue. Carson now returned to the camp to watch all night himself; and
at break of day they were again upon the road. No Indians appeared until
nearly noon, when five warriors came galloping toward them. As they came
near enough to hear him, Carson ordered them to halt, and approaching,
told them that the night before, he had sent a messenger to Rayedo, to
inform the troops that their tribe were annoying him; and if he or his
men were molested, terrible punishment would be inflicted by those who
would surely come to his relief. The Indians replied, that they would
look for the moccasin tracks, which they probably found, and Carson
considered this the reason that induced the whole village to pass away
toward the hills after a little time, evidently seeking a place of
safety. The young Mexican overtook the party of troops whose officer had
caused the trouble, to whom he told his story, and failing to secure
sympathy, he continued to Rayedo, and procured thence immediate
assistance. Major Grier dispatched a party of troops, under Lieutenant
R. Johnston, which, making rapid marches, met Carson twenty-five miles
below Bent's Fort; and, though they encountered no Indians, the effect
of the quick transit of troops from one part of the country to another,
could not be other than good, as a means of impressing the Indians with
the effective force of the United States troops.