Hostility of the Apaches--Colonel Beale Sends an Expedition Against
Them--Nothing Accomplished--Colonel Beale Leads an Expedition with
Carson as Guide--Capture and Release of Two Chiefs--March to the
Arkansas--Another Failure--Carson and Maxwell Build a Ranche--Fremont's
Fourth Expedition--The Murderous Apaches--A Fruitless Pursuit.
Kit Carson was one of those whose destiny seems to be that of stirring
incident and adventure. No man possessed such an intimate knowledge of
the manners, customs and peculiarities of the tribes in the southwest,
and with his exceptional woodcraft, skill and high courage his services
were always indispensable.
While he was at Taos, the Indians around him were restless until the
whole country was seething and on the verge of a general revolt.
Colonel Beale, commanding officer of the district, had established his
headquarters at Taos. The Apaches committed so many outrages that he
believed the only course open was to administer a thorough chastisement;
but it was tenfold easier to reach such a conclusion than it was to
carry it out. A strong force having been despatched to bring them to
account, pursued them to the mountains from which they were compelled to
return without accomplishing anything at all. The subsequent history of
these Apaches and of General Crook's campaign against them are
familiar enough to all to justify the declaration that they have proven
themselves the bravest and most formidable tribe that has defied the
United States government during the past half century.
Disappointed that the officer whom he sent failed to do anything,
Colonel Beale took command himself and employed Kit Carson as guide.
Instead of stopping in the mountains because they were blocked with
snow, as the former expedition had done, Colonel Beale forced his way
with great difficulty through them. The search for the Indians was long
but fruitless. The cunning red skins were at home in their fastnesses
and not a solitary warrior was bagged.
As the supply of provisions was running low, Colonel Beale was forced to
return and retrace his steps. On their return, they came upon a village
of Apaches into which the soldiers charged; but the nimble warriors
easily got away, with the exception of a couple of chiefs who fell into
the hands of the Americans. Hoping to rouse the chivalry and gratitude
of their nature, Colonel Beale lectured them kindly and after their
promise to behave themselves, allowed them to depart. As soon as they
were beyond rifle shot, they must have grinned with exultation, for it
was not their nature to repay kindness with anything but cruelty.
As Colonel Beale could not accomplish anything during the winter months,
he returned to Taos, where he remained until February, when, learning
that a large force of Indians were congregated on the Arkansas, with a
number of Mexican captives, he went thither intending to retake them
by force, if they could not be secured by peaceable means. He had two
companies of dragoons, and as before, engaged Carson as guide.
When he reached the Arkansas, he found himself confronted by two
thousand Indians who had gathered to meet their agent and probably to
consult as to their future movements. The agent was present and was a
man of practical sense and experience. He told Colonel Beale that it
would never do to demand the prisoners, for the Indians were in ugly
temper and if aroused, would massacre the whole command. Colonel Beale
himself was resentful, and very much disposed to give the red men
battle, but he suffered himself to be dissuaded from carrying out his
original purpose.
When Carson returned once more to Taos, he reflected that he was
approaching middle life, and as he now had quite a family, he was
anxious to provide something for them. Though he had rendered services
beyond value to the United States government, and to different
individuals, he had not received enough compensation to place them
above want should he become disabled. About this time, his old friend,
Maxwell, proposed that they should build a ranch in a beautiful valley
some distance north of Taos. The site was a most charming one, though it
was so much exposed to the attack of Indians that until then no one had
dared to settle there.
Handsome, roomy and substantial structures were erected, and many of the
most enjoyable days of their lives were spent on this famous ranche. It
would be a pleasant farewell to leave them there to end their days
in comfort and peace, but it was to be far otherwise with both and
especially with Carson.
In 1848-49, Colonel Fremont made a fourth exploring expedition across
the continent, he bearing all the expense, as he did in the case of
his fifth expedition made in 1853. The fourth was an appalling failure,
marked by an extremity of suffering that is incredible. The guide
employed was wholly ignorant and the command became entangled among the
snows of the mountains, where some of them lived not only on mules
but on each other. The strongest lay down and died, and the horrible
features of Fremont's fourth expedition were only approached by that
of Lieutenant Strain on the Isthmus of Darien. When the few ghastly
survivors staggered out of the mountains they tottered to Carson's
ranche, where they received the kindest treatment from him who had
served Fremont so faithfully on his former expeditions.
Carson had been on his ranche but a short time, when news reached him of
a most atrocious murder by the Apaches. A wealthy merchant was returning
in his private carriage with his wife and child from the United States
to Santa Fe. He was accompanied by a small escort and the wagon train
carrying his goods. When he believed all danger past, he hurried forward
with his family, who were becoming tired of the journey.
At a point where there was no suspicion of danger, the Apaches fired
upon the carriage, killing every one who accompanied it, including the
merchant himself. The wife and child were made prisoners and carried
away. Shortly after the little one was tomahawked and thrown into the
river.
When news of the outrage reached New Mexico, a party was hastily
organized and started out in the hope of saving the woman and punishing
the wretches who had committed the murders. When Carson learned of what
was contemplated, he offered his services. They were accepted, but much
to the surprise of his friends, he was given an inferior position. It
was characteristic of the splendid scout that he did not show by word or
look that he felt the slightest resentment on account of the slight.
With a less skilful leader than himself, Carson galloped with
the company to the scene of the murder. The sight was frightfully
suggestive: pieces of harness, band boxes, trunks, strips of blood
stained clothing, and fragments of the carriage attested the untamable
ferocity of the Apaches who had swooped down on the doomed party like a
cyclone.
From that point the trail was taken and the infuriated mountaineers
urged their steeds to the utmost, knowing the value of every hour and
that in the case of a fight with the Indians a surprise is half the
battle.
Day after day the pursuit was maintained until nearly two weeks had gone
by, before the first glimpse of a warrior was obtained. The trail was
one of the worst imaginable, and, had the pursuers been less skilful,
they would have been baffled almost from the first. At certain points,
the Apaches would break up into parties of two or three that would take
different routes, reuniting at some place many miles beyond where water
was known to be. This was done repeatedly, with a view of disconcerting
any avengers who might take their trail, and it is a tribute to the
ability of the mountaineers that the cunning artifice failed, so far as
they were concerned, of its purpose.
At last the Apaches were descried in the distance. Carson was the
first to discover them, he being some distance in advance. Knowing how
necessary it was to surprise them he shouted to his companions to charge
at once. Not doubting he would be followed, he dashed ahead with his
horse on a dead run, but looking over his shoulder when he had gone part
way, he saw to his consternation he was alone.
Angered and impatient, he rode back to learn what it meant. The chief
guide had directed the men to wait as there was no doubt the Apaches
desired to hold a parley. It meant the next moment in the shape of
a bullet from the Indians which struck the leader in the breast and
rendered him senseless. As soon as he recovered, he ordered his men to
make the attack and leave him to himself.
He was obeyed, but the delay was fatal. On charging into the camp they
were able to kill only one warrior. The body of the woman was found
still warm, showing that she had been slain only a brief while before.
All those acquainted with the particulars of this sad affair agreed that
had the advice of Carson been followed the poor lady might have been
saved.