As the reader can now easily compute, sixteen years had elapsed since Kit Carson commenced his exploits in the Rocky Mountains. During this long period, as frequently as once every year, he had sat down to a meal consisting of bread, vegetables, meat, coffee, tea, and sugar. When dining thus sumptuously, he considered himself as greatly favored with luxuries of the rarest grade. Few men can say, with Kit Carson, "During sixteen years, my rifle furnished nearly every particle of food upon which I lived." Fewer can say with equal truth, that "For many consecutive years, I never slept under the roof of a house, or gazed upon the face of a white woman."

It was after such an experience as we have endeavored to paint by the simple tale of his life thus far, that Kit Carson longed, once more, to look upon and mingle with civilized people. For some time before he determined to visit the United States, this desire had taken possession of his mind and had been growing stronger. The traders of the Fort were accustomed, yearly, to send into the States a train of wagons, for the purpose of transporting their goods. The opportunity, therefore, presented for Kit Carson to gratify his wish. In the spring of 1842, one of these caravans started with which Kit Carson traveled as a supernumerary. When it arrived within the boundary lines of the State of Missouri, he parted from his compagnons de voyage and went in quest of his relatives and friends, whom, now, he had not seen for over sixteen years. The scenes of his boyhood days, he found to be magically changed. New faces met him on all sides. The old log-cabin where his father and mother had resided was deserted and its dilapidated walls were crumbling with decay. The once happy inmates were scattered over the face of the earth while many of their voices were hushed in death. Kit Carson felt himself a stranger in a strange land—the strong man wept. His soul could not brook either the change or the ways of the people. While he failed not to receive kindness and hospitality, to which his name alone was a sufficient passport among the noble-hearted Missourians, nevertheless, he had fully allayed his curiosity, and, as soon as possible, bid adieu to these unpleasant recollections. He bent his steps towards St. Louis. In this city he remained ten days; and, as it was the first time since he had reached manhood that he had viewed a town of any magnitude, he was greatly interested. But, ten days of sight-seeing wearied him. He resolved to return to his mountain home where he could breathe the pure air of heaven and where manners and customs conformed to his wild life and were more congenial to his tastes. He engaged passage upon the first steamboat which was bound up the Missouri River.

We cannot resist the impulse which here struggles for utterance. Look upon that little steamboat as it ascends the mighty Missouri bearing in its bosom the man who was destined to point out the hidden paths of the mighty West; to mount and record the height of the loftiest peak of the American monster mountain chain; to unfold the riches of the interior of a great and glorious empire to its possessors, and, finally, to conquer with his good sword, preparing the way for its annexation to his country, the richest soil and fairest land on earth, thus adding one more glorious star to the original thirteen of 1776; a star, too, of the very first magnitude, whose refulgent brightness shines clear, sparkling and pure for the Truth of Sacred Writ and American Liberty. On the deck of that little steamboat, the two men, the one the master mind, the giant intellect, the man of research and scholastic strength, the scientific engineer; the other, than whom his superior as an American mountaineer was not living, stood, uninterested spectators of each other; and, each, unconscious why they had been permitted to enter the same cabin. The Christian student of American history cannot pass by this simple circumstance without seeing Heaven's wisdom in such a coincidence; namely, Kit Carson for the first time in sixteen years bending his steps to his boyhood home just as his sixteen years of mountaineer skill and experience were required by one of the master workmen of American Engineering, about to enter upon the exploration of inland North America.

Kit Carson wandered over the boat, studying its mechanism, admiring the machinery, which, so like a thing of life, subserved the interests of human life; watched with quiet reserve the faces and general appearance of his fellow-passengers; occasionally, modestly addressed an acquaintance, for some present were known to him; and, finally singled out from among the strangers a man on whose face he thought he discovered the marks of true courage, manhood and nobility of character. The impression which Kit Carson had thus received, was nothing fleeting. The eagle eye, the forehead, the form, the movements, the general features, the smile, the quiet dignity of the man, each and all of these attributes of his manhood had been carefully noted by the wary and hardy mountaineer, and had not failed to awaken in his breast a feeling of admiration and respect. While on this boat Kit Carson learned the fact that the man, whom he had thus studied, was Lieutenant John C. Fremont of the U.S. corps of topographical engineers; also, that Lieutenant Fremont had been earnestly seeking Captain Drips, an experienced mountaineer, but, that he had been disappointed in finding him. Upon learning this, Kit Carson fell into a deep reverie which lasted some little time, when, having brought it to a conclusion, he approached Lieutenant Fremont and modestly introducing himself, said:

"Sir! I have been some time in the mountains and think I can guide you to any point there you wish to reach."

Lieutenant Fremont's answer indicated his satisfaction in making the acquaintance which Kit Carson had offered him and that he would make inquiries concerning his capabilities of performing the duty for which he offered himself.

The inquiries which the then lieutenant instituted, or, at least, may be supposed to have instituted, must have been favorable; for, soon afterwards, Kit Carson was engaged by Colonel Fremont to act as guide to his first exploring expedition at a salary of one hundred dollars per month. Upon arriving in Kansas the party prepared for a long and dangerous journey which lay before them. The objects of this expedition was to survey the South Pass, and take the altitude of the highest peaks of the Rocky Mountains, besides gathering all the collateral information which they could. The party had been chiefly collected in St. Louis. It consisted of twenty-two Creole and Canadian voyageurs; Mr. Charles Preuss, a native of Germany, whose education rendered him a master in the art of topographical sketching, and, towards whom, Colonel Fremont has always extended high and just encomium; Henry Brant, a son of Colonel J.H. Brant, of St. Louis, nineteen years of age; young Randolph Benton, a son of Colonel Benton, twelve years of age; Mr. L. Maxwell, a mountaineer engaged as the hunter of the party; and finally, Kit Carson, as guide, making, including the commander of the Expedition, twenty-eight souls. On the 10th day of June, 1842, the party commenced their march. The daily routine usually observed on the march was as follows:

At daybreak the camp was aroused, the animals led out and turned loose to graze; breakfast about six o'clock, immediately after which, the line of march was resumed; at noon there was a halt of one or two hours; the march was then again resumed and kept up until within an hour or so of sunset, when the order was usually given to encamp; the tents were then pitched, horses hobbled and turned loose to graze and the cooks prepared supper. At night all the animals were brought in and picketed, carts set for defence and guard mounted.



The party had only accomplished a few miles of the march when they fell in with the buffalo. Before we pursue the narrative of Kit Carson's life we must redeem our promise and allow Col. Fremont to describe his own impressions in his first Buffalo Hunt, in which Kit Carson and Mr. L. Maxwell were his companions and guides. Col. Fremont says:

"A few miles brought us into the midst of the buffalo, swarming in immense numbers over the plains, where they had left scarcely a blade of grass standing. Mr. Preuss, who was sketching at a little distance in the rear, had at first noted them as large groves of timber. In the sight of such a mass of life, the traveler feels a strange emotion of grandeur. We had heard from a distance a dull and confused murmuring, and, when we came in view of their dark masses, there was not one among us who did not feel his heart beat quicker. It was the early part of the day, when the herds are feeding; and everywhere they were in motion. Here and there a huge old bull was rolling in the grass, and clouds of dust rose in the air from various parts of the bands, each the scene of some obstinate fight. Indians and buffalo make the poetry and life of the prairie, and our camp was full of their exhilaration. In place of the quiet monotony of the march, relieved only by the cracking of the whip, and an 'avance donc! enfant de garce!' shouts and songs resounded from every part of the line, and our evening camp was always the commencement of a feast, which terminated only with our departure on the following morning. At any time of the night might be seen pieces of the most delicate and choicest meat, roasting en appolas, on sticks around the fire, and the guard were never without company. With pleasant weather and no enemy to fear, and abundance of the most excellent meat, and no scarcity of bread or tobacco, they were enjoying the oasis of a voyageur's life. Three cows were killed today. Kit Carson had shot one, and was continuing the chase in the midst of another herd, when his horse fell headlong, but sprang up and joined the flying band. Though considerably hurt, he had the good fortune to break no bones; and Maxwell, who was mounted on a fleet hunter, captured the runaway after a hard chase. He was on the point of shooting him, to avoid the loss of his bridle (a handsomely mounted Spanish one), when he found that his horse was able to come up with him. Animals are frequently lost in this way; and it is necessary to keep close watch over them, in the vicinity of the buffalo, in the midst of which they scour off to the plains, and are rarely retaken. One of our mules took a sudden freak into his head, and joined a neighboring band to-day. As we are not in a condition to lose horses, I sent several men in pursuit, and remained in camp, in the hope of recovering him; but lost the afternoon to no purpose, as we did not see him again. Astronomical observations placed us in longitude 100 deg. 05' 47", latitude 40 deg. 49' 55".

"July 1.—As we were riding quietly along the bank, a grand herd of buffalo, some seven or eight hundred in number, came crowding up from the river, where they had been to drink, and commenced crossing the plain slowly, eating as they went. The wind was favorable; the coolness of the morning invited to exercise; the ground was apparently good, and the distance across the prairie (two or three miles) gave us a fine opportunity to charge them before they could get among the river hills. It was too fine a prospect for a chase to be lost; and, halting for a few moments, the hunters were brought up and saddled, and Kit Carson, Maxwell and I started together. They were now somewhat less than half a mile distant, and we rode easily along until within about three hundred yards, when a sudden agitation, a wavering in the band, and a galloping to and fro of some which were scattered along the skirts, gave us the intimation that we were discovered. We started together at a hand gallop, riding steadily abreast of each other, and here the interest of the chase became so engrossingly intense, that we were sensible to nothing else. We were now closing upon them rapidly, and the front of the mass was already in rapid motion for the hills, and in a few seconds the movement had communicated itself to the whole herd.

"A crowd of bulls, as usual, brought up the rear, and every now and then some of them faced about, and then dashed on after the band a short distance, and turned and looked again, as if more than half inclined to stand and fight. In a few moments, however, during which we had been quickening our pace, the rout was universal, and we were going over the ground like a hurricane. When at about thirty yards, we gave the usual shout (the hunter's battle cry) and broke into the herd. We entered on the side, the mass giving way in every direction in their heedless course. Many of the bulls, less active and less fleet than the cows, paying no attention to the ground, and occupied solely with the hunter were precipitated to the earth with great force, rolling over and over with the violence of the shock, and hardly distinguishable in the dust. We separated on entering, each singling out his game.

"My horse was a trained hunter, famous in the west under the name of Proveau, and, with his eyes flashing, and the foam flying from his mouth, sprang on after the cow like a tiger. In a few moments he brought me alongside of her, and, rising in the stirrups, I fired at the distance of a yard, the ball entering at the termination of the long hair, and passing near the heart. She fell headlong at the report of the gun, and checking my horse, I looked around for my companions. At a little distance, Kit was on the ground, engaged in tying his horse to the horns of a cow which he was preparing to cut up. Among the scattered bands, at some distance below, I caught a glimpse of Maxwell; and while I was looking, a light wreath of white smoke curled away from his gun, from which I was too far to hear the report. Nearer, and between me and the hills, towards which they were directing their course, was the body of the herd, and giving my horse the rein, we dashed after them. A thick cloud of dust hung upon their rear, which filled my mouth and eyes, and nearly smothered me. In the midst of this I could see nothing, and the buffalo were not distinguishable until within thirty feet. They crowded together more densely still as I came upon them, and rushed along in such a compact body, that I could not obtain an entrance—the horse almost leaping upon them. In a few moments the mass divided to the right and left, the horns clattering with a noise heard above everything else, and my horse darted into the opening. Five or six bulls charged on us as we dashed along the line, but were left far behind, and singling out a cow, I gave her my fire, but struck too high. She gave a tremendous leap, and scoured on swifter than before. I reined up my horse, and the band swept on like a torrent, and left the place quiet and clear. Our chase had led us into dangerous ground. A prairie-dog village, so thickly settled that there were three or four holes in every twenty yards square, occupied the whole bottom for nearly two miles in length. Looking around, I saw only one of the hunters, nearly out of sight, and the long dark line of our caravan crawling along, three or four miles distant."

The trail which the party left behind them now forms the emigrant road to California via Fort Laramie, Salt Lake, etc. On reaching Fort Laramie, Fremont found a fearful state of affairs existing among the Sioux Indians through whose country his route lay. An encounter had recently taken place between a war-party belonging to the Sioux nation and a party of trappers and Snake Indians. In the fight the Indians had been worsted and several of their braves killed. To revenge themselves the Sioux chieftains had collected their warriors; and, while the nation was encamped to the number of one thousand lodges, they had gone forth to seek and punish their enemies.

At Fort Laramie the exploring party met several trappers and friendly Indians who used their utmost endeavors to dissuade Colonel Fremont from venturing into such inevitable danger. There was but one opinion expressed, viz.: that, as sure as he entered upon the journey, the entire party would be massacred. To all these admonitions and warnings, Colonel Fremont had but one reply. His government had directed him to perform a certain duty. The obstacles which stood in his way, it was his duty to use every means at his command to surmount; therefore, in obedience to his instructions, he was determined to continue his march. Finally, he said, that he would accomplish the object or die in the attempt, being quite sure that if the expedition failed by being cut to pieces, a terrible retribution would be in store for the perpetrators of the act. Kit Carson, his guide, openly avowed that the future looked dark and gloomy; but, he was delighted to hear this expression from his commander. He now felt that he had a man after his own heart to depend on, and should danger or inevitable death be in store for them he was ready and willing to face either with him. In order to be prepared for the worst, Kit Carson felt it his duty, considering the dangers apprehended, to make his will, thereby showing that if he had to fight he was ready to count it his last battle. Colonel Fremont resumed his journey, and very opportunely arrived at the South Pass of the Rocky Mountains without, in any way, being annoyed with Indians, not even meeting any on the route.

He had now reached the field where his chief labors were to commence. Without loss of time he set earnestly about his work, making and recording such observations as he deemed to be essential and examining and exploring the country. Having finished this part of his labors, the ascent of the highest peak of the mountains was commenced. The length of the journey had jaded the animals. It was very difficult to procure game. The men had undergone such severe hardships that their spirits had become almost worn out. The daily fare now was dried buffalo meat. This was about the consistency of a pine stick; and, in taste, resembled a piece of dried bark. Besides these rather uncomfortable prospects, the expedition stood in constant fear of an attack by the Indians. It was now in the country of the Blackfeet; and, only a short distance from the encampment, at the foot of the mountain, there was one of their forts. In the face of all these obstacles, sufficiently formidable to have deterred most commanders, the mountain party was detailed, being fourteen in number including Fremont. A man named Bernier was left in command of the camp which had been made by felling forest trees in a space about forty feet in diameter, using the trunks to form a breastwork. The camp was thus concealed by the trees and their foliage. It was well calculated for defence, and a few determined men could have maintained it against almost any Indian force.

On the 12th day of August the mountain party left the camp. It was fifteen in number. On the 14th of August some of the party reached an elevation at which the barometer stood 19.401. On the 15th some of the party were sent back. Kit Carson had command of this party. The remainder consisted of Colonel Fremont, Mr. Preuss, Basil Lajeunesse, Clement Lambert, Janesse, and Descoteaux. The day previous Kit Carson had alone climbed one of the highest peaks of the main ridge from which he had a full view of the highest peak, which rose about eight or ten hundred feet above him. The arduous labors of the 14th August had determined the commander to ascend no higher. Instead of carrying out this intention, after Kit Carson with his party had set out, Fremont made one more effort to climb the highest peak and succeeded. His own words in describing this ascent are as follows:

"'At intervals, we reached places where a number of springs gushed from the rocks, and about 1,800 feet above the lakes came to the snow line. From this point our progress was uninterrupted climbing. Hitherto, I had worn a pair of thick moccasins, with soles of parfleche; but here I put on a light thin pair, which I had brought for the purpose, as now the use of our toes became necessary to a further advance. I availed myself of a sort of comb of the mountain, which stood against the wall like a buttress, and which the wind and the solar radiation, joined to the steepness of the smooth rock, had kept almost entirely free from snow. Up this I made my way rapidly. Our cautious method of advancing in the outset had spared my strength; and, with the exception of a slight disposition to headache, I felt no remains of yesterday's illness. In a few minutes we reached a point where the buttress was overhanging, and there was no other way of surmounting the difficulty than by passing around one side of it, which was the face of a vertical precipice of several hundred feet.'

"Parfleche is the name given to buffalo hide. The Indian women prepare it by scraping and drying. It is exceedingly tough and hard, and receives its name from the circumstance that it cannot be pierced by arrows or spears. The entire dress of Fremont and his party, on their ascent to the 'top of America,' consisted of a blue flannel shirt, free and open at the neck, the collar turning down over a black silk handkerchief tied loosely, blue cloth pantaloons, a slouched broad-brimmed hat, and moccasins as above described. It was well adapted to climbing—quite light, and at the same time warm, and every way comfortable.

"'Putting hands and feet in the crevices between the blocks, I succeeded in getting over it, and, when I reached the top, found my companions in a small valley below. Descending to them, we continued climbing, and in a short time reached the crest. I sprang upon the summit, and another step would have precipitated me into an immense snow-field five hundred feet below. To the edge of this field was a sheer icy precipice; and then, with a gradual fall, the field sloped off for about a mile, until it struck the foot of another lower ridge. I stood on a narrow crest, about three feet in width, with an inclination of about 20 deg. N. 51 deg. E. As soon as I had gratified the first feelings of curiosity, I descended, and each man ascended in his turn, for I would only allow one at a time to mount the unstable and precarious slab, which it seemed a breath would hurl into the abyss below. We mounted the barometer in the snow of the summit, and, fixing a ramrod in a crevice, unfurled the national flag, to wave in the breeze where never flag waved before. During our morning's ascent, we met no sign of animal life, except a small bird having the appearance of a sparrow. A stillness the most profound and a terrible solitude forced themselves constantly on the mind as the great features of the place. Here, on the summit, where the stillness was absolute, unbroken by any sound, and the solitude complete, we thought ourselves beyond the region of animated life; but while we were sitting on the rock, a solitary bee (bombus terrestris, the humble bee) came winging his flight from the eastern valley, and lit on the knee of one of the men.

"'Around us, the whole scene had one main striking feature, which was that of terrible convulsion. Parallel to its length, the ridge was split into chasms and fissures, between which rose the thin, lofty walls, terminated with slender minarets and columns, which are correctly represented in the view from the camp on Island Lake. According to the barometer, the little crest of the wall on which we stood was three thousand five hundred and seventy feet above that place, and two thousand seven hundred and eighty above the little lakes at the bottom, immediately at our feet. Our camp at the Two Hills (an astronomical station) bore south 3 deg. east, which, with a bearing afterward obtained from a fixed position, enabled us to locate the peak. The bearing of the Trois Tetons was north 50 deg. west, and the direction of the central ridge of the Wind River Mountains south 39 deg. east. The summit rock was gneiss, succeeded by sienitic gneiss. Sienite and feldspar succeeded in our descent to the snow line, where we found a feldspathic granite. I had remarked that the noise produced by the explosion of our pistols had the usual degree of loudness, but was not in the least prolonged, expiring almost instantaneously. Having now made what observations our means afforded, we proceeded to descend. We had accomplished an object of laudable ambition, and beyond the strict order of our instructions. We had climbed the loftiest peak of the Rocky Mountains, and looked down upon the snow a thousand feet below, and, standing where never human foot had stood before, felt the exultation of first explorers. It was about two o'clock when we left the summit; and when we reached the bottom, the sun had already sunk behind the wall, and the day was drawing to a close. It would have been pleasant to have lingered here and on the summit longer; but we hurried away as rapidly as the ground would permit, for it was an object to regain our party as soon as possible, not knowing what accident the next hour might bring forth.'"

This peak was found, by barometrical observation, to be thirteen thousand five hundred and seventy feet above the waters of the Gulf of Mexico. It bears the name of the Great Explorer, being called Fremont's Peak.

The return trip was now commenced, all of the objects of the expedition having been successfully accomplished. The party again reached Fort Laramie in the month of September, 1842. Kit Carson had served in the double capacity as a hunter and guide. It is sufficient to say of the manner in which he performed his duties that he won the friendship of John C. Fremont, and has ever occupied since then a prominent and permanent place in his esteem. At Laramie, Kit Carson's labors were done. There he bid his commander good bye and set out for New Mexico. Fremont returned to the United States in safety. Thus terminated the first of his great explorations.

Kit Carson's Indian wife had long since been dead. In the month of February, 1843, he married a Mexican lady by the name of Senora Josepha Jarimilla. Of this lady it is sufficient to say that for her many virtues and personal beauty she is justly esteemed by a large circle of acquaintance. By this wife Kit Carson has three children, to whom he is devotedly attached.

In the following April Kit Carson was employed as hunter to accompany Bent and St. Vrain's train of wagons, while on their journey to the United States. On arriving at Walnut Creek, which is about two-thirds of the distance across the Plains from Santa Fe, Kit and his companions came upon the encampment of Captain Cook, belonging to the United States Army—who was in command of four companies of United States Dragoons. Captain Cook informed Carson's party that in his rear was traveling a train of wagons belonging to General Armijo, a wealthy Mexican.

For the purpose of insuring protection to this richly-freighted caravan while passing through an Indian country, the Mexican wagon-master in charge, had hired one hundred men. There were rumors, currently reported at that time and believed, that a large body of Texians were waiting on the road to plunder and murder this wagon party, and thus retaliate the treatment Armijo had been guilty of in the case of the "famous Muir Prisoners;" but, in order that this should not happen in Territory belonging to the United States, the War Department had ordered Captain Cook and the dragoons to guard the property as far as the fording of the Arkansas River, which was then the boundary line between the two countries. The Mexicans had become alarmed for fear they might be attacked on parting with the United States soldiers; so, on meeting with Kit Carson, who was well known to them, they offered three hundred dollars if he would carry a letter to Armijo who was then Governor of New Mexico, and lived at Santa Fe. This letter apprised the General of the danger to which his men and property were exposed and asked for assistance to be immediately sent to them. Carson accepted the offer, and in company with Owens, another mountaineer, he set out on his express ride. In the course of a few days he reached Bent's Fort, where his companion concluded not to go on with him. At the Fort, Kit Carson was informed that the Utah Indians, then hostile, were scattered along his intended route. He was not, however, turned from his duty by this danger, but he resumed his journey immediately. At this last-named place his friend, Mr. Bent, kindly furnished him with a fleet and magnificent horse, which he led, so that, should he find himself in peril, he might mount this fresh animal and make his escape.

By watching for signs and being continually on the alert, Kit Carson discovered the Indians and their village without exposing his own person to view. He immediately secreted himself in an out-of-the-way place and remained until the coming on of darkness; when, he passed safely by the camp of the savages. In the course of a few days he reached Taos and handed his dispatch to the Alcalde of the town to be forwarded to Santa Fe. As had been previously agreed upon, he waited here for an answer with which he was to return. At Taos Carson was informed that Armijo had already sent out one hundred Mexican soldiers to seek his caravan and that the General himself, in command of six hundred more, was soon to follow after. It was afterwards learned that this unfortunate band of one hundred men went as far as the Arkansas River, but could not find any traces of the train of wagons, it not having completed that much of its journey; therefore, they commenced to retrace their steps, but had proceeded only a few miles, when they were suddenly attacked by the Texians, who succeeded in massacring all but one man. This survivor had succeeded in catching, in the heat of the battle, a fully equipped Texan horse which was loose. Mounting him, he made off in the direction of Santa Fe; and, at Cold Springs came upon the camp of Armijo, to whom he reported proceedings. The narration of this sad story so dampened the courage of the General and his men as to cause them to make a precipitous retreat. The spot where this slaughter took place has since gone by the name of the "battle ground" and many are the bleached human bones that are still to be found there.

It was during Carson's stay of four days in Taos, that Armijo and his small army had started out in quest of the enemy; but, before his departure, he had received the letter and directed an answer to be sent, thinking perhaps, that Kit Carson might reach the train even if he himself did not. On the answer coming into Carson's hands, he selected a Mexican boy to accompany him and was quickly on the road again. They had left Taos two days' journey behind them and had reached the River Trinchera (for they were traveling via the Sangero de Christo Pass and Bent's Fort) when they unexpectedly met four Indian warriors. Eat Carson immediately recognized them as hostile Utahs. As yet the red men were some distance off; and, while Kit and his companion stood meditating what was best to be done, the latter spoke and said to the former: "I am a boy and perhaps the Indians will spare my life. At any rate yours is much more valuable than mine, therefore mount the horse you are leading, without delay, and make your escape." Carson at first thought this advice to be good, and was about acting on it, when it struck his equally generous heart, how cowardly such a course would be—to desert a youth who had in the hour of peril so manfully borne himself. Turning to the boy he thanked him and added that "he could not and would not desert him." He said "we must stand our ground together and if we have to die let us take with us each his warrior." While this colloquy was going on, the foremost of the Indians came up. He approached Carson with the air of a man sure of an easy victory, and, with a bland smile, proffered one hand in friendship, while, with the other, he grasped Kit's rifle. A powerful blow from the fist of the latter released his hold and instantly laid him sprawling upon the ground. The other Indians, seeing the fate of their companion, hastened to his rescue. When they reached talking distance, Kit, standing with his rifle brought to his shoulder, informed them that, upon the first hostile demonstration they made, he and his companion would fire. The Indians commenced shaking their priming into the pans of their flint lock guns, and, while doing so, talked loud and threatened to perform a great many things. This was a mere ruse to intimidate Kit and his companion and throw them off their guard. It was, however, well understood and operated to make them only the more vigilant. This endeavor to draw off Kit's attention was continued in various ways, but, finally seeing the determined posture of their opponent, they grew weary of the game, and, at last, departed.

The journey was now resumed. After five days of hard traveling, Kit and his companion entered Bent's Fort, without further molestation. Here Kit Carson learned that the Texians had been caught by Captain Cook and his dragoons in United States Territory, and had been disarmed. This had immediately relieved the conductors of the train from all anxiety. They had, consequently, continued their route, not thinking a stop at Bent's Fort necessary as had been anticipated. Gen. Armijo's letter of instruction was, accordingly, left by Carson with Mr. Bent who promised to forward it to Santa Fe by the first favorable opportunity. To pursue and overtake the wagons would be nothing but labor thrown away. All danger had disappeared.



CHAPTER VIII.

Kit Carson visits Fremont's Camp—Goes on the Second Exploring Expedition—The Necessary Arrangements—Trip to Salt Lake—Explorations there—Carson is dispatched to Fort Hall for Supplies—Their Operations at Salt Lake—The Great Island—The Journey to the Columbia River in Oregon—Incidents on the Route—Tlamath Lake—The Journey to California—The Trials and Privations met with while crossing the Sierra Nevada Mountains—Mr. Preuss is lost but finds the Party again—Arrival at Sutter's Fort in a Destitute Condition—Two of the Party become deranged—The Route on the Return Trip—Mexicans come into their Camp asking Aid and Protection—Indian Depredations—Carson and Godey start on a Daring Adventure—The Pursuit—The Thieves overtaken—These Two White Men attack Thirty Indians—The Victory—Horses retaken—The Return to Camp—One of their Companions killed—The Journey continued—Arrival at Bent's Fort—The "Fourth of July" Dinner.

A few days before Kit Carson's arrival at Bent's Fort, Col. Fremont had passed by and had informed the Traders there that he was bound on another Exploring Expedition. Having finished up his business with the Mexicans, Kit thought he would like to see his old commander once again. Accordingly, he started on his trail: and, after seventy miles of travel, came up with him. The meeting proved to be mutually agreeable. Although Kit Carson had made this visit solely from his desire to see again his old commander and not with a view of joining his second expedition, Col. Fremont insisted so strongly upon having Kit accompany him that he acquiesced in doing so.

For Col. Fremont, Kit Carson has the greatest admiration. He knows, as well as any man living, his bravery, his talents and the many splendid qualities of his mind and heart. The question will naturally arise, does Kit Carson indorse the political creed upon which Col. Fremont accepted the nomination for the Presidency of the United States? The best answer and the one which is true, will be: Kit Carson considers it one of the highest honors and greatest blessings to be a citizen of the United States. He is willing to incur any danger for his country's good, even if the sacrifice of his life is the alternative. He has spent all his life in the wilds of America where news is always as scarce an article as luxuries of the table and fire-side, and, where the political strifes of factions and parties are not known. The inference will therefore be plainly apparent, that his curiosity does not lead him to examine very attentively the minute workings of political machinery. He is not a man to be swayed by friendship from performing any act which the interests of his country seem to require at his hands. His political bias will, therefore, remain a matter of conjecture until such time, if his life is spared to see it, when New Mexico shall be admitted into the Union as a State. So far, he has never lived where he could exercise the right of franchise. The time must come which shall entitle him to a Presidential vote before he decides what political party shall count him as its supporter.

Soon after Kit Carson was again enrolled under the command of Col. Fremont, he received orders to return to Bent's Fort and purchase some mules of which the party stood in need. Mules are valuable animals in new and mountainous countries. They are often the only beasts of burden which can be successfully used in crossing the wild mountains. Being more sure footed and more able to endure great fatigue than the horse, in such expeditions, they become absolutely necessary. While he was absent on this duty, the expedition journeyed first to Soda Springs and thence on to St. Vrain's Fort, which was located on the South Fork of the Platte. At this point, the expedition was joined by Major Fitzpatrick with a command of forty men which he had enrolled, under orders, to assist in the exploration. When Kit Carson had rejoined the party, the arrangements for the arduous task in view were nearly complete.

Colonel Fremont divided his forces, sending one division, with most of the camp equipage, on the more direct route. This division was placed under the command of Major Fitzpatrick. The other division under the command of Colonel Fremont, consisting of a squad of fifteen men and his guide Kit Carson, struck out up Thompson's Fork. The object of this expedition had in view by the government was, to have Colonel Fremont connect his explorations of the preceding year with the coast surveys of Commander Wilkes on the Pacific. This would give the data for making a correct map of the interior of the wild lands of the continent. From Thompson's Fork Colonel Fremont's division marched to the Cache la Poudre River, and thence to the plains of Laramie until they came to the North Fork of the Platte. This river they crossed below the New Park and bent their way to the sweet water, reaching it at a point about fifteen miles below the Devil's Gate. From this point they traveled almost the same road which is now used by emigrants and which leads to Soda Springs on Beaver River. It had been decided by Fremont to go to the Great Salt Lake and accomplish its exploration. He therefore started for that direction; but, before doing so, ordered Kit Carson to proceed to Fort Hall and obtain such supplies as were required. After procuring these necessities, Kit Carson, with one companion and his pack animals, set out on the return from Fort Hall and eventually found Fremont on the upper end of Salt Lake. From here the party journeyed around to the east side of the lake, a distance of about twenty miles. At this spot they obtained a good view of the lake and its adjacent scenery. Before him, and in bold relief, stood out everything which the explorer desired to examine, even to one of the several islands which are located in the midst of this wonderful collection of saline waters. To this isolated land Fremont was resolved to go. Among the rest of the forethought, supplies, there was an India-rubber boat. This was ordered to be made ready for a trip to the island early the following day. No doubt our readers will be pleased to enjoy Colonel Fremont's account of this lake, its scenery and characteristics. We insert therefore as much thereof as our space will admit. It was the twenty-first day of August 1843 that the little party reached Bear River, which, as has already appeared in another, part of this work, was the principal tributary of the Great Salt Lake. At this point of Colonel Fremont's narrative, he says: "We were now entering a region which, for us, possessed a strange and extraordinary interest. We were upon the waters of the famous lake which forms a salient point among the remarkable geographical features of the country, and around which the vague and superstitious accounts of the trappers had thrown a delightful obscurity, which we anticipated pleasure in dispelling, but which, in the meantime, left a crowded field for the exercise of our imagination.

"In our occasional conversations with the few old hunters who had visited the region, it had been a subject of frequent speculation; and the wonders which they related were not the less agreeable because they were highly exaggerated and impossible.

"Hitherto this lake had been seen only by trappers, who were wandering through the country in search of new beaver streams, caring very little for geography; its islands had never been visited; and none were to be found who had entirely made the circuit of its shores; and no instrumental observations, or geographical survey of any description, had ever been made anywhere in the neighboring region. It was generally supposed that it had no visible outlet; but, among the trappers, including those in my own camp, were many who believed that somewhere on its surface was a terrible whirlpool, through which its waters found their way to the ocean by some subterranean communication. All these things had made a frequent subject of discussion in our desultory conversations around the fires at night; and my own mind had become tolerably well filled with their indefinite pictures, and insensibly colored with their romantic descriptions, which, in the pleasure of excitement, I was well disposed to believe, and half expected to realize.

"'In about six miles' travel from our encampment, we reached one of the points in our journey to which we had always looked forward with great interest—the famous Beer Springs, which, on account of the effervescing gas and acid taste, had received their name from the voyageurs and trappers of the country, who, in the midst of their rude and hard lives, are fond of finding some fancied resemblance to the luxuries they rarely have the good fortune to enjoy.

"'Although somewhat disappointed in the expectations which various descriptions had led me to form of unusual beauty of situation and scenery, I found it altogether a place of very great interest; and a traveler for the first time in a volcanic region remains in a constant excitement, and at every step is arrested by something remarkable and new. There is a confusion of interesting objects gathered together in a small space. Around the place of encampment the Beer Springs were numerous; but, as far as we could ascertain, were entirely confined to that locality in the bottom. In the bed of the river, in front, for a space of several hundred yards, they were very abundant; the effervescing gas rising up and agitating the water in countless bubbling columns. In the vicinity round about were numerous springs of an entirely different and equally marked mineral character. In a rather picturesque spot, about 1,300 yards below our encampment, and immediately on the river bank, is the most remarkable spring of the place. In an opening on the rock, a white column of scattered water is thrown up, in form like a jet-d'eau, to a variable height of about three feet, and, though it is maintained in a constant supply, its greatest height is attained only at regular intervals, according to the action of the force below. It is accompanied by a subterranean noise, which, together with the motion of the water, makes very much the impression of a steamboat in motion; and, without knowing that it had been already previously so called, we gave to it the name of the Steamboat Spring. The rock through which it is forced is slightly raised in a convex manner, and gathered at the opening into an urn-mouthed form, and is evidently formed by continued deposition from the water, and colored bright red by oxide of iron.

"'It is a hot spring, and the water has a pungent and disagreeable metallic taste, leaving a burning effect on the tongue. Within perhaps two yards of the jet d'eau, is a small hole of about an inch in diameter, through which, at regular intervals, escapes a blast of hot air with a light wreath of smoke, accompanied by a regular noise.'

"As they approached the lake, they passed over a country of bold and striking scenery, and through several 'gates,' as they called certain narrow valleys. The 'standing rock' is a huge column, occupying the centre of one of these passes. It fell from a height of perhaps 3,000 feet, and happened to remain in its present upright position.

"At last, on the 6th of September, the object for which their eyes had long been straining was brought to view.

"'Sept. 6.—This time we reached the butte without any difficulty; and, ascending to the summit, immediately at our feet beheld the object of our anxious search, the waters of the Inland Sea, stretching in still and solitary grandeur far beyond the limit of our vision. It was one of the great points of the exploration; and as we looked eagerly over the lake in the first emotions of excited pleasure, I am doubtful if the followers of Balboa felt more enthusiasms, when, from the heights of the Andes, they saw for the first time the great Western Ocean. It was certainly a magnificent object, and a noble terminus to this part of our expedition; and to travelers so long shut up among mountain ranges, a sudden view over the expanse of silent waters had in it something sublime. Several large islands raised their high rocky heads out of the waves; but whether or not they were timbered was still left to our imagination, as the distance was too great to determine if the dark hues upon them were woodland or naked rock. During the day the clouds had been gathering black over the mountains to the westward, and while we were looking a storm burst down with sudden fury upon the lake, and entirely hid the islands from our view.

"'On the edge of the stream a favorable spot was selected in a grove; and felling the timber, we made a strong corral, or horse-pen, for the animals, and a little fort for the people who were to remain. We were now probably in the country of the Utah Indians, though none reside upon the lake. The India-rubber boat was repaired with prepared cloth and gum, and filled with air, in readiness for the next day.

"'The provisions which Carson had brought with him being now exhausted, and our stock reduced to a small quantity of roots, I determined to retain with me only a sufficient number of men for the execution of our design; and accordingly seven were sent back to Fort Hall, under the guidance of Francois Lajeunesse, who, having been for many years a trapper in the country, was an experienced mountaineer.

"'We formed now but a small family. With Mr. Preuss and myself, Carson, Bernier, and Basil Lajeunesse had been selected for the boat expedition—the first ever attempted on this interior sea; and Badeau, with Derosier, and Jacob (the colored man), were to be left in charge of the camp. We were favored with most delightful weather. To-night there was a brilliant sunset of golden orange and green, which left the western sky clear and beautifully pure; but clouds in the east made me lose an occultation. The summer frogs were singing around us, and the evening was very pleasant, with a temperature of 60 deg.—a night of a more southern autumn. For our supper we had yampah, the most agreeably flavored of the roots, seasoned by a small fat duck, which had come in the way of Jacob's rifle. Around our fire to-night were many speculations on what to-morrow would bring forth; and in our busy conjectures we fancied that we should find every one of the large islands a tangled wilderness of trees and shrubbery, teeming with game of every description that the neighboring region afforded, and which the foot of a white man or Indian had never violated. Frequently, during the day, clouds had rested on the summits of their lofty mountains, and we believed that we should find clear streams and springs of fresh water; and we indulged in anticipations of the luxurious repasts with which we were to indemnify ourselves for past privations. Neither, in our discussions were the whirlpool and other mysterious dangers forgotten, which Indian and hunters' stories attributed to this unexplored lake. The men had discovered that, instead of being strongly sewed (like that of the preceding year, which had so triumphantly rode the canons of the Upper Great Platte), our present boat was only pasted together in a very insecure manner, the maker having been allowed so little time in the construction that he was obliged to crowd the labor of two months into several days. The insecurity of the boat was sensibly felt by us; and, mingled with the enthusiasm and excitement that we all felt at the prospect of an undertaking which had never before been accomplished, was a certain impression of danger, sufficient to give a serious character to our conversation. The momentary view which had been had of the lake the day before, its great extent and rugged islands, dimly seen amidst the dark waters in the obscurity of the sudden storm, were well calculated to heighten the idea of undefined danger with which the lake was generally associated.

"'Sept. 8.—A calm, clear day, with a sunrise temperature of 41 deg.. In view of our present enterprise, a part of the equipment of the boat had been made to consist of three air-tight bags, about three feet long, and capable each of containing five gallons. These had been filled with water the night before, and were now placed in the boat, with our blankets and instruments, consisting of a sextant, telescope, spy-glass, thermometer, and barometer.

"'In the course of the morning we discovered that two of the cylinders leaked so much as to require one man constantly at the bellows, to keep them sufficiently full of air to support the boat. Although we had made a very early start, we loitered so much on the way—stopping every now and then, and floating silently along, to get a shot at a goose or a duck—that it was late in the day when we reached the outlet. The river here divided into several branches, filled with fluvials, and so very shallow that it was with difficulty we could get the boat along, being obliged to get out and wade. We encamped on a low point among rushes and young willows, where there was a quantity of driftwood, which served for our fires. The evening was mild and clear; we made a pleasant bed of the young willows; and geese and ducks enough had been killed for an abundant supper at night, and for breakfast next morning. The stillness of the night was enlivened by millions of water-fowl.

"'Sept. 9.—The day was clear and calm; the thermometer at sunrise at 49 deg.. As is usual with the trappers on the eve of any enterprise, our people had made dreams, and theirs happened to be a bad one—one which always preceded evil—and consequently they looked very gloomy this morning; but we hurried through our breakfast, in order to make an early start, and have all the day before us for our adventure. The channel in a short distance became so shallow that our navigation was at an end, being merely a sheet of soft mud, with a few inches of water, and sometimes none at all, forming the low-water shore of the lake. All this place was absolutely covered with flocks of screaming plover. We took off our clothes, and, getting over-board, commenced dragging the boat—making, by this operation, a very curious trail, and a very disagreeable smell in stirring up the mud, as we sank above the knee at every step. The water here was still fresh, with only an insipid and disagreeable taste, probably derived from the bed of fetid mud. After proceeding in this way about a mile, we came to a small black ridge on the bottom, beyond which the water became suddenly salt, beginning gradually to deepen, and the bottom was sandy and firm. It was a remarkable division, separating the fresh water of the rivers from the briny water of the lake, which was entirely saturated with common salt. Pushing our little vessel across the narrow boundary, we sprang on board, and at length were afloat on the waters of the unknown sea.

"We did not steer for the mountainous islands, but directed our course towards a lower one, which it had been decided we should first visit, the summit of which was formed like the crater at the upper end of Bear River valley. So long as we could touch the bottom with our paddles, we were very gay; but gradually, as the water deepened, we became more still in our frail batteau of gum cloth distended with air, and with pasted seams. Although the day was very calm, there was a considerable swell on the lake; and there were white patches of foam on the surface, which were slowly moving to the southward, indicating the set of a current in that direction, and recalling the recollection of the whirlpool stories. The water continued to deepen as we advanced; the lake becoming almost transparently clear, of an extremely beautiful bright-green color; and the spray, which was thrown into the boat and over our clothes, was directly converted into a crust of common salt, which covered also our hands and arms. 'Captain,' said Carson, who for some time had been looking suspiciously at some whitening appearances outside the nearest islands 'what are those yonder?—won't you just take a look with the glass?' We ceased paddling for a moment, and found them to be the caps of the waves that were beginning to break under the force of a strong breeze that was coming up the lake. The form of the boat seemed to be an admirable one, and it rode on the waves like a water bird; but, at the same time, it was extremely slow in its progress. When we were a little more than half way across the reach, two of the divisions between the cylinders gave way, and it required the constant use of the bellows to keep in a sufficient quantity of air. For a long time we scarcely seemed to approach our island, but gradually we worked across the rougher sea of the open channel, into the smoother water under the lee of the island, and began to discover that what we took for a long row of pelicans, ranged on the beach, were only low cliffs whitened with salt by the spray of the waves; and about noon we reached the shore, the transparency of the water enabling us to see the bottom at a considerable depth.

"'The cliffs and masses of rock along the shore were whitened by an incrustation of salt where the waves dashed up against them; and the evaporating water, which had been left in holes and hollows on the surface of the rocks, was covered with a crust of salt about one-eighth of an inch in thickness.

"'Carrying with us the barometer and other instruments, in the afternoon we ascended to the highest point of the island—a bare rocky peak, 800 feet above the lake. Standing on the summit, we enjoyed an extended view of the lake, inclosed in a basin of rugged mountains, which sometimes left marshy flats and extensive bottoms between them and the shore, and in other places came directly down into the water with bold and precipitous bluffs.

"'As we looked over the vast expanse of water spread out beneath us, and strained our eyes along the silent shores over which hung so much doubt and uncertainty, and which were so full of interest to us, I could hardly repress the almost irresistible desire to continue our exploration; but the lengthening snow on the mountains was a plain indication of the advancing season, and our frail linen boat appeared so insecure that I was unwilling to trust our lives to the uncertainties of the lake. I therefore unwillingly resolved to terminate our survey here, and remain satisfied for the present with what we had been able to add to the unknown geography of the region. We felt pleasure also in remembering that we were the first who, in the traditionary annals of the country, had visited the islands, and broken, with the cheerful sound of human voices, the long solitude of the place.

"'I accidentally left on the summit the brass cover to the object end of my spy-glass; and as it will probably remain there undisturbed by Indians, it will furnish matter of speculation to some future traveler. In our excursions about the island, we did not meet with any kind of animal; a magpie, and another larger bird, probably attracted by the smoke of our fire, paid us a visit from the shore, and were the only living things seen during our stay. The rock constituting the cliffs along the shore where we were encamped, is a talcous rock, or steatite, with brown spar.

"'At sunset, the temperature was 70 deg.. We had arrived just in time to obtain a meridian altitude of the sun, and other observations were obtained this evening, which place our camp in latitude 41 deg. 10' 42", and longitude 112 deg. 21' 05" from Greenwich. From a discussion of the barometrical observations made during our stay on the shores of the lake, we have adopted 4,200 feet for its elevation above the Gulf of Mexico. In the first disappointment we felt from the dissipation of our dream of the fertile islands, I called this Disappointment Island.

"'Out of the driftwood, we made ourselves pleasant little lodges, open to the water, and, after having kindled large fires to excite the wonder of any straggling savage on the lake shores, lay down, for the first time in a long journey, in perfect security; no one thinking about his arms. The evening was extremely bright and pleasant; but the wind rose during the night, and the waves began to break heavily on the shore, making our island tremble. I had not expected in our inland journey to hear the roar of an ocean surf; and the strangeness of our situation, and the excitement we felt in the associated interests of the place, made this one of the most interesting nights I remember during our long expedition.

"'In the morning, the surf was breaking heavily on the shore, and we were up early. The lake was dark and agitated, and we hurried through our scanty breakfast, and embarked—having first filled one of the buckets with water from the lake, of which it was intended to make salt. The sun had risen by the time we were ready to start; and it was blowing a strong gale of wind, almost directly off the shore, and raising a considerable sea, in which our boat strained very much. It roughened as we got away from the island, and it required all the efforts of the men to make any head against the wind and sea; the gale rising with the sun; and there was danger of being blown into one of the open reaches beyond the island. At the distance of half a mile from the beach, the depth of water was sixteen feet, with a clay bottom; but, as the working of the boat was very severe labor, and during the operation of sounding it was necessary to cease paddling, during which the boat lost considerable way, I was unwilling to discourage the men, and reluctantly gave up my intention of ascertaining the depth, and the character of the bed. There was a general shout in the boat when we found ourselves in one fathom, and we soon after landed.'"

* * * * *

We now resume Kit Carson's narrative. When the Indian-rubber boat was put in order, Colonel Fremont started, taking Carson and three others as companions. (Their names have already appeared.) The distance from the main land to the island is computed to be about three leagues, hence the pull at the oars, for landsmen unaccustomed to such kind of work, was no small task. However a landing upon the island was safely accomplished, the boat made fast and the investigations commenced. After examining most of the island without finding even a spring of water on it, it was determined to ascend the great hill which was the highest elevation on it. The party was not long in reaching the summit, where they found a shelving rock, on which they cut a cross, their names and the date as signs to after visitors, should any such follow in their footsteps, that they had been the first persons who had ever, within the knowledge of man, been on that island.

The day having been far spent in their labors, orders were given to camp on the island for the night. On the morrow they departed for the main land. When they had accomplished about one league, being one-third of the distance, the clouds suddenly gathered and threatened a storm. Just as this danger impended, the air which acted in giving buoyancy to the boat, by some accident, began to escape. A man was immediately stationed at the bellows and it required his constant aid to supply the portion which steadily escaped. Colonel Fremont then ordered the men to pull for their lives and try thus to escape the danger of the impending storm. In this instance, as indeed in every hour of peril, an all-seeing Providence guided them in safety to the shore. Soon after they arrived, the storm came on with such fury that it caused the water of the lake, according to the natural water mark, to rise ten feet in one hour.

The party soon after recommenced their march and proceeded some distance up the Bear River. Crossing it they went to the Malade and thence on until they reached Fort Hall. Here they met with the division under Fitzpatrick and made a short stay.

Once more Colonel Fremont started with his small party in advance of his main body. He marched about eight days' journey ahead, Fitzpatrick following up his trail with the larger division. At this time the expedition was journeying in the direction of the mouth of the Columbia River. In due time they arrived safely at the river Dalles. Here they made another brief halt. Colonel Fremont left Kit Carson in command of this camp, while he, with a small party, proceeded to Vancouver's Island and purchased some provisions. On his return he found that the whole party had become consolidated. The command now journeyed to Tlamath Lake in Oregon Territory. The descriptions of all these journeys have already been given to the public in several forms, all however based upon Colonel Fremont's reports made to the U.S. Government. It would be superfluous, therefore, for us to fill up the pages of the life of Kit Carson with matter already published beyond the occurrences appertaining to him. Having finished the observations upon Tlamath Lake, the expedition started for California. The route led through a barren and desolate country, rendering game scarce. As the command drew near to the Sierra Nevada Mountains, they were found to be entirely covered with deep snow throughout the entire range of vision. At this time the provisions had commenced giving out. Game was so scarce that it could not be depended on. The propositions which presented themselves at this crisis were to cross the mountains or take the fearful chance of starving to death. Crossing the mountains, terrible though the alternative, was the choice of all. It was better than inactivity and certain death. On arriving at the mountains the snow was found to be about six feet deep on a level. The first task was to manufacture snow-shoes for the entire party. By the aid of these foot appendages, an advance party was sent on to explore the route and to determine how far a path would have to be broken for the animals. This party reached a spot from whence they could see their way clear and found that the path for the animals would be three leagues in length. The advance party also saw, in the distance, the green valley of the Sacramento and the coast range of mountains. Kit Carson was the first man to recognize these, to the snow-bound travelers, desirable localities, although it was now seventeen years since he had last gazed upon them. The advance party then returned to their friends in the rear and reported their proceedings. All were delighted on learning that they had one man among them who knew where they were. The business of making the road was very laborious. The snow had to be beaten compact with mallets. It was fifteen days before the party succeeded in reaching, with a few of their animals, a place where the heavy work of the route was ended. During this time, many of their mules had starved to death, and the few remaining were driven to such an extreme by want of food, that they devoured one another's tails, the leather on the pack saddles; and, in fact, they would try to eat everything they could get into their mouths. The sufferings of the men had been as severe as had ever fallen to the lot of any mountaineer present. Their provisions were all used and they were driven to subsist upon the mules as they died from hunger. But, commander and all bore these terrible trials in an exemplary manner.

An incident is related by Colonel Fremont, in which Kit Carson enjoyed a cold-bath, which occurred during this terrible march. "February Twenty-third.—This was our most difficult day; we were forced off the ridges by the quantity of snow among the timber, and obliged to take to the mountain-sides, where, occasionally, rocks and a southern exposure afforded us a chance to scramble along. But these were steep and slippery with snow and ice; and the tough evergreens of the mountain impeded our way, tore our skins, and exhausted our patience. Some of us had the misfortune to wear moccasins with parfleche soles, so slippery that we could not keep our feet, and generally crawled across the snow beds. Axes and mauls were necessary to-day, to make a road through the snow. Going ahead with Carson to reconnoitre the road, we reached in the afternoon the river which made the outlet of the lake. Carson sprang over, clear across a place where the stream was compressed among the rocks, but the parfleche sole of my moccasin glanced from the icy rock, and precipitated me into the river. It was some few seconds before I could recover myself in the current, and Carson thinking me hurt jumped in after me, and we both had an icy bath. We tried to search awhile for my gun, which had been lost in the fall, but the cold drove us out; and, making a large fire on the bank, after we had partially dried ourselves, we went back to meet the camp. We afterwards found that the gun had been slung under the ice which lined the banks of the creek."

* * * * *

It was while undergoing such experience as we have endeavored to narrate that the characters of men show forth in their true light and can be fully analyzed. John C. Fremont never was found wanting in times such as tried men's hearts. He was worthy of the trust reposed in him. His was no ordinary command. The men he had to deal with, in their line, had no superiors on the American Continent; yet, he proved a match for any one of them and gained from them the name of being a good mountaineer, an encomium they are not prone to bestow lightly.

The party now commenced descending the mountains. On reaching the valley beneath, Fremont, taking Kit Carson and six of the men, pushed on in advance, in order to reach Sutter's Fort, where he would be able to purchase provisions. Fitzpatrick was left in charge of the main party, with orders to make easy marches. The second day after this division was made, Mr. Preuss, Fremont's assistant, accidentally got lost. His friends began making search for him. This failing, they traveled on slowly, fired guns and used every means in their power to let their whereabouts be known to him. After wandering about for four days, to the surprise and joy of his companions, he came into camp. During his absence he had subsisted on acorns and roots, and, as a matter of course, was nearly exhausted both in body and mind. Three days after Mr. Preuss was restored to them, Fremont, with the advance party, reached Sutter's Fort. He and his party were very hospitably received. They were entertained with the best the post could furnish, by its kind-hearted proprietor. Never did men more deserve such treatment. The condition of all was about as miserable as it could well be imagined, for men who retained their hold on life.

It was at Sutter's Fort, as most of our readers will remember, that the great gold mines of California first received their kindling spark, the discovery of that precious metal having been made there. While some men were digging a mill-race the alluring deposit first appeared. This event has made the Fort world-renowned.

At the time we describe Fremont on his second expedition, nothing whatever was known of the immense fields of treasure over which he and his men daily walked, although, for many years previous to the discovery being made, the mountaineers had trapped all the rivers in that vicinity, and on their banks had herded their animals for months together. They had drank thousands of times from the pure water as it flowed in the river's channel, and, no doubt, frequently their eyes had penetrated through it until they saw the sand beneath in which, perchance, the sparkling specs may have occasionally allured them sufficiently to recall the proverb that "all is not gold that glitters."

The writer once made inquiry of one of these mountaineers who had spent two summers in the manner narrated above near and at Sutter's Fort some twenty years since. He was asked whether he ever saw there anything in the shape of gold which in any way aroused his suspicions? His reply was: "Never. And had I, it would have been only for a brief space of time, as finally I should have been certain that I was deluded and mistaken, without there had been the Eagle of our country stamped upon it."

Provisions were immediately obtained at the Fort and carried to Fitzpatrick and his party. Great difficulty had now to be encountered to prevent the men from losing their lives by the sudden change from want to comparative luxury. Notwithstanding the utmost care was taken, some of the party lost their reason. The hardships of the journey had proved too much for them. Fitzpatrick and the main body arrived at the Fort in a few days, where they were likewise welcomed by its hospitable and generous proprietor, Captain Sutter. His name in California has ever been but another term for kindness and sympathy for the unfortunate. This expedition, in one respect only, can be called unfortunate. When the terrible sufferings of the commander and his men have been named, the catalogue of misfortune is ended. Its results, grand and glorious, have immortalized the name of every man who assisted, in any way, to accomplish it. "I belonged to the several Exploring Expeditions of John C. Fremont" is the key note to the respect and homage of the American nation; the truth would be equally real, if we add, to the whole civilized world. Every heart which beats with admiration for the heroic, or which is capable of appreciating the rich contributions to the sciences, direct resultants from their terrible sufferings, has thrilled with delight when possessed of the history which records the brilliant achievements of these Exploring Parties.

The band started from the little town of Kansas on the twenty-ninth day of May, 1843. It returned to the United States in August, 1844. After traveling seventeen hundred miles, it reached, September sixth, Salt Lake. On the fourth day of November it reached Fort Vancouver, on the Columbia River. On the sixth day of March, 1844, it reached Sutter's Fort in the destitute condition already explained. The distance from Fort Hall by the route taken is about two thousand miles. The party remained at Sutter's Fort until the twenty-fourth day of March, or as Kit Carson expresses the time from his memory, the expedition remained at this place about one month. At the expiration of this time, the party was sufficiently recruited to be ready for their return journey, which they commenced in April, 1844. Just previous to their taking leave of Mr. Sutter, two of the company became deranged, owing to the privations and fasting to which they had been obliged to submit before being ushered into a land of plenty. They had indulged appetite too freely, and brought on one of those strange revolutions in the brain's action which never fails to excite the pity of friend and foe. The first warning which the party had that one of the men was laboring under a disordered intellect occurred in the following manner. Early in the morning the man suddenly started from his sleep and began to ask his companions where his riding animal was gone. During this time it was by him, but he did not know it. Unknown to the rest of the party he started off soon after in search of his imaginary animal. As soon as his absence became known to Fremont, he surmised the truth and sent persons in all directions to hunt for him. They searched the neighboring country for many miles and made inquiries of all the friendly Indians they chanced upon, but failed to discover him. Several days of delay was caused by this most unhappy circumstance. Finally, it becoming necessary for the party to depart without him, word was left with Mr. Sutter to continue the hunt. He did so most faithfully; and, by his exertions, some time after the party had set out on the return trip, the maniac was found and kept at the Fort until he had entirely recovered. He was then, on the first opportunity, provided with a passage to the United States. Before we follow the party on their homeward-bound tramp, it is proper that the reader should be favored with the estimate and views which the American historian, statesman and scholar, Colonel Benton, has recorded concerning the perils undergone and results accomplished by this expedition. His pen is so graphic and life-like that the reader will doubtless thank us for the extract. Besides presenting a view of the expedition, it will unfold a fact which shows where the origin of the expedition had its conception. We give all he says concerning the expedition.[17]

[Footnote 17: Thirty Years View, vol. ii. chap. 134.]

"'The government deserves credit for the zeal with which it has pursued geographical discovery.' Such is the remark which a leading paper made upon the discoveries of Fremont, on his return from his second expedition to the great West; and such is the remark which all writers will make upon all his discoveries who write history from public documents and outside views. With all such writers the expeditions of Fremont will be credited to the zeal of the government for the promotion of science, as if the government under which he acted had conceived and planned these expeditions, as Mr. Jefferson did that of Lewis and Clark, and then selected this young officer to carry into effect the instructions delivered to him. How far such history would be true in relation to the first expedition, which terminated in the Rocky Mountains, has been seen in the account which has been given of the origin of that undertaking, and which leaves the government innocent of its conception; and, therefore, not entitled to the credit of its authorship, but only to the merit of permitting it. In the second, and greater expedition, from which great political as well as scientific results have flowed, their merit is still less; for, while equally innocent of its conception, they were not equally passive to its performance—countermanding the expedition after it had begun—and lavishing censure upon the adventurous young explorer for his manner of undertaking it. The fact was, that his first expedition barely finished, Mr. Fremont sought and obtained orders for a second one, and was on the frontier of Missouri with his command when orders arrived at St. Louis to stop him, on the ground that he had made a military equipment which the peaceful nature of his geographical pursuit did not require! as if Indians did not kill and rob scientific men as well as others if not in a condition to defend themselves. The particular point of complaint was that he had taken a small mountain howitzer, in addition to his rifles; and which he was informed, was charged to him, although it had been furnished upon a regular requisition on the commandant of the arsenal at St. Louis, approved by the commander of the military department (Colonel, afterward General Kearney). Mr. Fremont had left St. Louis, and was at the frontier, Mrs. Fremont being requested to examine the letters that came after him, and forward those which he ought to receive. She read the countermanding orders and detained them! and Fremont knew nothing of their existence, until after he had returned from one of the most marvellous and eventful expeditions of modern times—one to which the United States are indebted (among other things) for the present ownership of California, instead of seeing it a British possession. The writer of this View, who was then in St. Louis, approved of the course which his daughter had taken (for she had stopped the orders before he knew it); and he wrote a letter to the department condemning the recall, repulsing the reprimand which had been lavished upon Fremont, and demanding a court-martial for him when he should return. The Secretary of War was then Mr. James Madison Porter, of Pennsylvania; the chief of the topographical corps the same as now (Colonel Abert), himself an office man, surrounded by West Point officers, to whose pursuit of easy service, Fremont's adventurous expeditions was a reproach; and in conformity to whose opinions the secretary seemed to have acted. On Fremont's return, upwards of a year afterwards, Mr. William Wilkins, of Pennsylvania, was Secretary of War, and received the young explorer with all honor and friendship, and obtained for him the brevet of captain from President Tyler. And such is the inside view of this piece of history—very different from what documentary evidence would make it.

"To complete his survey across the continent, on the line of travel between the State of Missouri and the tide-water region of the Columbia, was Fremont's object in this expedition; and it was all that he had obtained orders for doing; but only a small part, and to his mind an insignificant part, of what he proposed doing. People had been to the mouth of the Columbia before, and his ambition was not limited to making tracks where others had made them before him. There was a vast region beyond the Rocky Mountains—the whole western slope of our continent—of which but little was known; and of that little, nothing with the accuracy of science. All that vast region, more than seven hundred miles square—equal to a great kingdom in Europe—was an unknown land—a sealed book, which he longed to open, and to read. Leaving the frontier of Missouri in May, 1843, and often diverging from his route for the sake of expanding his field of observation, he had arrived in the tide-water region of Columbia in the month of November; and had then completed the whole service which his orders embraced. He might then have returned upon his tracks, or been brought home by sea, or hunted the most pleasant path for getting back; and if he had been a routine officer, satisfied with fulfilling an order, he would have done so. Not so the young explorer, who held his diploma from nature, and not from the United States Military Academy. He was at Fort Vancouver, guest of the hospitable Dr. McLaughlin, Governor of the British Hudson Bay Fur Company; and obtained from him all possible information upon his intended line of return—faithfully given, but which proved to be disastrously erroneous in its leading and governing feature. A southeast route to cross the great unknown region diagonally through its heart (making a line from the Lower Columbia to the Upper Colorado of the Gulf of California), was his line of return; twenty-five men (the same who had come with him from the United States) and a hundred horses were his equipment; and the commencement of winter the time of starting—all without a guide, relying upon their guns for support; and, in the last resort, upon their horses—such as should give out! for one that could carry a man, or a pack, could not be spared for food.

"All the maps up to that time had shown this region traversed from east to west—from the base of the Rocky Mountains to the Bay of San Francisco—by a great river called the Buena Ventura: which may be translated, the Good Chance. Governor McLaughlin believed in the existence of this river, and made out a conjectural manuscript map to show its place and course. Fremont believed in it, and his plan was to reach it before the dead of winter, and then hybernate upon it. As a great river he knew that it must have some rich bottoms, covered with wood and grass, where the wild animals would collect and shelter, when the snows and freezing winds drove them from the plains; and with these animals to live on, and grass for the horses, and wood for fires, he expected to avoid suffering, if not to enjoy comfort, during his solitary sojourn in that remote and profound wilderness.

"He proceeded—soon encountered deep snows which impeded progress upon the highlands—descended into a low country to the left (afterwards known to be the Great Basin, from which no water issues to any sea)—skirted an enormous chain of mountain on the right, luminous with glittering white snow—saw strange Indians, who mostly fled—found a desert—no Buena Ventura; and death from cold and famine staring him in the face. The failure to find the river, or tidings of it, and the possibility of its existence seeming to be forbid by the structure of the country, and hybernation in the inhospitable desert being impossible, and the question being that of life and death, some new plan of conduct became indispensable. His celestial observations told him that he was in the latitude of the Bay of San Francisco, and only seventy miles from it. But what miles! up and down that snowy mountain which the Indians told him no men could cross in the winter—which would have snow upon it as deep as the trees, and places where people would slip off and fall half a mile at a time—a fate which actually befell a mule, packed with the precious burden of botanical specimens, collected along a travel of two thousand miles. No reward could induce an Indian to become a guide in the perilous adventure of crossing this mountain. All recoiled and fled from the adventure. It was attempted without a guide—in the dead of winter—accomplished in forty days—the men and surviving horses—a woeful procession, crawling along one by one; skeleton men leading skeleton horses—and arriving at Sutter's Settlement in the beautiful valley of the Sacramento; and where a genial warmth, and budding flowers, and trees in foliage, and grassy ground, and flowing streams, and comfortable food, made a fairy contrast with the famine and freezing they had encountered, and the lofty Sierra Nevada which they had climbed. Here he rested and recruited; and from this point, and by way of Monterey, the first tidings were heard of the party since leaving Fort Vancouver.

"Another long progress to the south, skirting the western base of the Sierra Nevada, made him acquainted with the noble valley of the San Joaquin, counterpart to that of the Sacramento; when crossing through a gap, and turning to the left, he skirted the Great Basin; and by many deviations from the right line home, levied incessant contributions to science from expanded lands, not described before. In this eventful exploration, all the great features of the western slope of our continent were brought to light—the Great Salt Lake, the Utah Lake, the Little Salt Lake; at all which places, then deserts, the Mormons now are; the Sierra Nevada, then solitary in the snow, now crowded with Americans, digging gold from its flanks: the beautiful valleys of the Sacramento and San Joaquin, then alive with wild horses, elk, deer, and wild fowls, now smiling with American cultivation; the Great Basin itself and its contents; the Three Parks; the approximation of the great rivers which, rising together in the central region of the Rocky Mountains, go off east and west, towards the rising and the setting sun—all these, and other strange features of a new region, more Asiatic than American, were brought to light and revealed to public view in the results of this exploration.

"Eleven months he was never out of sight of snow; and sometimes, freezing with cold, would look down upon a sunny valley, warm with genial heat;—sometimes panting with the summer's heat, would look up at the eternal snows which crowned the neighboring mountain. But it was not then that California was secured to the Union—to the greatest power of the New World—to which it of right belonged; but it was the first step towards the acquisition, and the one that led to it. The second expedition led to a third, just in time to snatch the golden California from the hands of the British, ready to clutch it. But of this hereafter. Fremont's second expedition was now over. He had left the United States a fugitive from his government, and returned with a name that went over Europe and America, and with discoveries bearing fruit which the civilized world is now enjoying."

On their homeward-bound journey, the party followed up the valley of the San Joaquin crossing over the Sierra Nevada and coast range of mountains at a point where they join and form a beautiful low pass. They continued on from here close under the coast range until they struck the Spanish Trail. This they followed to the Mohave River. That stream, it will be recollected, was an old friend of Kit Carson's. The reader will recall the many times he had caught beaver out of its waters. They followed the trail up the course of the river to where it leaves it. At this point an event occurred which somewhat retarded their progress, relieving the monotony of the route and somewhat changing their plans.

Soon after the camp had been formed, they were visited by a Mexican man and boy; the one named Andreas Fuentes, the other Pablo Hernandez. They informed Fremont that they belonged to a party of Mexican traders which had come from New Mexico. They said that six of them, including in this number two women who acted as cooks, had been left by their friends in charge of a band of horses. The rest of the party were absent trafficking. The party of six thus left to watch the horses, consisted of Santiago Giacome, Andreas Fuentes and wife, and Pablo Hernandez, together with his father and mother. They were endeavoring to find better grazing for their animals. For this purpose they had penetrated the country as far as they dared; and, at about eighty miles from the camp of Fremont, had resolved to wait for their friends. Fuentes and the boy Pablo were on guard over the animals when their camp was attacked by hostile savages. The attacking band was about thirty in number.