A consultation having been held among the officers, it was the prevailing opinion that it would be impossible to overtake and engage the Mexicans by following them up on land; therefore Fremont asked for a ship to take his force to San Diego, where he could obtain animals and march on to Los Angelos. The United States vessel Cyane, under the command of Capt. Dupont, was furnished him for this undertaking by Commodore Stockton. In four days time the party arrived at San Diego, where they landed. They there parted with the ship and the gallant captain, with many pleasant reminiscences of their short voyage. At San Diego, Fremont found himself at the head of about one hundred and fifty men, which was not a very strong force to be in an enemy's country with, especially so far from their homes as they were. However, nearly every man was a veteran in war, and the whole body felt themselves invincible, which was a source of great consolation to their leader. From San Diego, parties of the command were sent to scour the neighboring country, in order to bring in a sufficient number of horses to mount the men. This being accomplished, Fremont set out for Los Angelos, where the Governor and Gen. Castro had a force of seven hundred men at their disposal. These officials, with their soldiers, on learning the near approach of the Americans, broke up and fled, most of them taking the road to Sonora, while the balance scattered, not apparently caring where they went, as long as they did not come in contact with the Americans. Fremont marched within about one league of the town, and encamped to await, as had been previously agreed upon, the arrival of Commodore Stockton, who soon joined him at this place with a party of sailors and marines, "As fine a body of men," says Kit Carson, "as ever I looked upon."

When the two commands had been consolidated, they marched direct for Los Angelos, which they easily captured, as its would-be defenders had some days before deserted it. In this town the command was quartered for some time; but, as it is our intention to follow the career of Kit Carson, who, shortly after their arrival, had been detailed for important duty, which placed him in new scenes; hence, we are necessitated to take leave of affairs as they transpired there, and hereafter revert to them casually as they connect with our narrative.



CHAPTER XI.

Kit Carson is sent Overland as Bearer of Dispatches to Washington—The Preparation and the Start—The Journey—Privations and Sufferings—Meeting with General Kearney—The General takes Carson as his Guide and sends on the Dispatches by Fitzpatrick—The March—Arrival at Warner's Ranche—Mexicans on the Road—Preparations for a Battle—The Battle—Disastrous Consequences—Kit Carson and Lieutenant Beale offer to run the lines of the Mexican Sentinels and carry Information to San Diego of Kearney's critical position—The Daring Undertaking—The Sufferings they encountered—Their Arrival—Reinforcements sent out—Lieutenant Beale is Delirious from the Privations he has undergone—Gen. Kearney and his Command finally reach and join the other American Forces in California.

On the 15th day of September, 1846, Kit Carson was placed in the command of fifteen men, with orders to make an overland journey to Washington, as bearer of very important dispatches.

At the time of which we write, there was no steam communication, as now, via the two great oceans, consequently, the intercourse between our brave countrymen in California and the government at Washington was attended with extreme difficulty. Fortunately, Fremont had in Kit Carson just the man to make such a journey through an enemy's country.

Kit Carson was instructed to use his utmost endeavors to make the journey in sixty days, which was no small undertaking, when we consider the great distance to be traveled over and the obstacles that lay in his path; he undertook it, however, with a determination not to be easily frustrated.

By judicious management and watchfulness, Kit was making good progress, and had reached a point within two days' travel of the Copper Mines in New Mexico without being in any way annoyed. Here he came into full view of a village of Apache Indians, who were then, as they nearly ever since have been, at war with the Americans. He had been discovered by these Indians, and there was but one true way to act, which was not to show the white feather by attempting to evade them. Fremont's dispatch bearer had not the least idea of that; he was too well schooled in Indian stratagem to be out-manoeuvered, so he rode on as if nothing had happened until he came to some timber that lay within one hundred yards of their village, when he halted. At first the Indians were disconcerted at the boldness of the whites, and were showing it by hurrying to and fro, either for the purpose of leaving or to be better prepared to offer fight. On arriving near enough so to do, Kit Carson called to the savages and informed them that his party were friends and wished a parley. To this an assent was given, when Kit made them understand that he and his men were simply travelers, en route for New Mexico; that they carried the olive branch of peace with them, and had come among them bearing it, in the hopes of being able to exchange their fatigued animals for others that were fresh. With this the Indians were satisfied; therefore, Carson chose a camping-ground for himself and men, and selected the site so that they could best contend against the treachery of the red men, should they attempt any. When the camp was arranged, the Indians were allowed to come in; and, soon after, the trading commenced, which proved to be very successful, for the men obtained very good riding animals in place of their old ones. Their intercourse with this band of Apaches closed early the next day, when both parties bid each other good bye on the most friendly terms.

A few days more of travel brought Kit Carson and his men to the first Mexican settlement which then stood in their road. Their arrival in the town happened very opportunely, having for the past few days been suffering severely from hunger. They had started from California with but a small stock of dried meat and corn, not being able conveniently to carry more without impeding their progress; therefore, they were left to depend on their rifles. Game they found to be scarce; and, in a short time, their meat was expended. Being reduced to the corn, they were, as a matter of necessity, very sparing of it. The maize was parched, and for several days they derived their entire subsistence from it; though, on account of the short allowance, they but poorly satiated their appetites. About the time succor appeared to them in the shape of this Mexican town, even the maize was nearly used up. They were delighted to reach a place where they would be able to replenish their provisions. It was well known to their commander that, as a dernier resort, he could kill and live upon his riding animals, but in so doing, he would cripple his means so much, that the business he was on might prove a failure. While so much depended on it, he felt that he ought not to leave any other means untried before resorting to such a procedure. It was true, the Mexicans at that time were at war; but, there were scattered over New Mexico, in almost every town, former friends of Kit Carson, who would, he felt confident, serve him in the hour of trial. At the first ranche they came to, they halted and made a rest of two or three days, while Kit employed himself in purchasing supplies, in which he succeeded beyond even his expectations.

It was while obeying instructions, in traveling as fast as possible, that one day, the sixth of October, 1846, the party discerned something which, at first, looked like a mere speck moving on the prairies. Watching it with intense anxiety, the little speck increased in size until they saw it emerge, as it were, from the apparent junction of the heavens with the earth, and form a visible line; as the front of this column came nearer to view, they discovered that it was a strong detachment of United States troops. The truth was now evident to them all that this was an expedition sent out by government to operate in California. Spurring on their animals, Kit and his men soon met the advance guard of the soldiers and learned that their commander was Gen. Kearney, who was further back in the lines. On coming to the general, Kit Carson reported himself, informed him of the business he was on, and also furnished him with all the intelligence in his power in reference to the disposal of the American forces in California, besides detailing to him what had already been accomplished in that quarter.

After due deliberation, Gen. Kearney determined to send Mr. Fitzpatrick on to Washington with the dispatches and to order Kit Carson to join him as guide. In fulfilling this duty, he well knew that Kit would be invaluable to him. Acting on this decision, he sent for Kit Carson and informed him of what he wished him to do. Kit Carson replied, "As the general thinks best." The fact was, that Kit well knew he could be of great service to the command, and he was too honest not to confess it, though he was now nearly in reach of his happy home and its loved inmates, from whom he had been so long separated and whom he fondly wished to see. In facing about, Kit took upon his shoulders the prospect of encountering fearful dangers; but, he undertook his new duties without allowing a murmur to escape his lips, and without even asking additional pay; though, had he but mentioned it, the general could not have well refused the demand. A noble motive engrossed Kit Carson's mind. He has ever labored to win and wear the confidence and respect of his countrymen, being ambitious to leave a name behind him that shall be an honor to his friends and family.

On the eighteenth day of October, 1846, General Kearney and his command left the Rio Del Norte, in New Mexico. The services of Kit Carson in directing the route, proved the wisdom of General Kearney in making the change in the bearers of dispatches. So true was Kit Carson's guidance, that the command traveled with so much dispatch as to reach Warner's Ranche, in California, on the third day of December following. From this place it took up a line of march for San Diego.

While on their march, news was brought in by their spies that a strong command of Mexican Californians had taken up a position on their route, evidently awaiting their advance with the view of attacking them. This occurred on the sixth day of the same month. General Kearney made no change in his route, but advanced to within fifteen miles of the enemy's encampment. Here he commanded a halt. A reconnoitering party, consisting of fifteen dragoons, commanded by Lieutenant Hammond, was sent on in advance to note the position and force of the enemy. He proceeded upon the duty, but was discovered by the Mexicans. Nevertheless, he fortunately succeeded in making his observations previous to being seen. His report to General Kearney, among other facts, stated that these Mexican soldiers had strongly established themselves in an Indian village.

General Kearney determined, without delay to attack them. Orders were given to resume the march; and, by one o'clock the next morning the American soldiers had fastened all their packs on their mules, and were themselves mounted and ready for the command to move. The order came without delay, and the little army was immediately in motion. Fourteen miles of the space which separated the two parties were passed without interruption. When within one mile of the Mexican position, the advance guard of the Americans suddenly came upon a small advance guard of the Mexicans, who were evidently posted to watch their approach and guard the road. As soon as they were discovered, the trumpets of the dragoons sounded, in quick succession, the orders to trot, and to gallop. The Americans were so prompt in making their charge that they came upon the Mexicans, when a sharp skirmish ensued, in which several of the enemy were killed. The remainder of the outpost were driven in, bearing the news of the attack to their friends. Captain Johnson, Kit Carson and fifteen American soldiers formed the attacking party in this affair. They had been ordered to secure the loose animals belonging to the enemy. In this they failed, the animals being too strongly guarded, and because, upon the first alarm, they were driven out of harm's way.

This attack, however, proved to be the commencement of a serious fight. Seeing that his orders could not be obeyed in regard to the animals of the enemy, Captain Johnson and his party joined a party under Captain Moore. The force of the latter consisted of twenty-five American volunteers from California, who had attached themselves to General Kearney's command since its arrival in the country. Moore's command also comprised parts of two companies of United States dragoons. Captain Moore had been ordered to make an attack on the centre of the enemy, in order to cut their forces in two, and thereby cause confusion in their ranks. As has been stated, Captain Johnson, with his little force, joined Captain Moore in making this attack. While the charge was in progress, and when within one hundred yards of the Mexican camp, Kit Carson's horse, occupying a leading position in the column of attack, accidentally fell, and threw his rider with such force as to break the wood part, or stock, of his rifle into several pieces, rendering it useless. His position, for a short time, was precarious. Being foremost in the charge when the accident happened, the whole troop of horse came galloping over him as he lay upon the ground. His escape was almost a miracle. When the last horseman had passed, Kit arose, and was quite happy to find that he had received only slight contusions, which did not in the least impair his movements or strength of body. Casting a hasty glance over the field, he discovered a dead dragoon, not far distant from the spot where he himself had fallen. Instantly running up to the poor fellow, he relieved him of his gun and cartridge-box. Being once more armed, he rushed forward at the top of his speed and plunged into the thickest of the fight, which was then severely contested. Captain Johnson and several of the more advanced soldiers had been killed by the bullets of the enemy, almost at the same instant that Kit Carson's horse had fallen. It is not at all unlikely, therefore, that the accidental falling of his horse had been the means of saving Kit Carson's life. After a desperate and deadly conflict, Moore and his men dislodged the enemy, causing them to retreat. They were followed by the Americans, but, unfortunately for their complete success, the large majority of the latter were mounted on mules. These, when the firing commenced, became almost unmanageable. But forty of the entire command of General Kearney were mounted on horses, and these were none the best for cavalry purposes, having been but recently broken to the saddle. They had been captured since the arrival of the American forces in the country, from a party of Mexicans, who were en route to Sonora, by Lieutenant Davidson and twenty-five dragoons, assisted by Kit Carson. By the uncontrollable actions of the stubborn mules, Moore's men became greatly separated and could not act in concert. This rendered the pursuit, so far as the enemy was concerned, nearly harmless.

The Mexicans, quickly perceiving the condition of their assailants, and comprehending the chances, which the apparent difficulty gave them, at once rallied and turned on their pursuers. The fight was renewed with most determined courage. The Mexicans fought with a bravery and success which turned the hitherto, comparatively speaking, bloodless victory of the Americans, into a terrible slaughter. Every moment saw some brave dragoon yield up his life to the deadly bullets or blows of the exasperated Mexicans. Out of the forty dragoons who were mounted on horses, thirty-six were either killed or severely wounded. Among the names to be added to the sad list already killed, was Captain Moore, "as brave a man," says Kit Carson, "as ever drew breath in any service." As fast as the scattered American soldiers could reach the scene of carnage, they joined in the battle; but, the Mexicans, elated by their success, fought like demons, and seemed to sweep everything before them.

General Kearney, seeing his officers thus shot down, drawing his sword, placed himself at the head of his remaining forces; and, though severely wounded, he made a desperate attempt to cause the enemy, once more, to retreat. At this crisis of affairs, Lieutenant Davidson arrived on the ground with two mountain howitzers. Before he could get his guns unlimbered and ready to commence firing, nearly every man he had to work them was shot down, being either killed or badly wounded. Following up their success, the Mexicans charged right up to the guns, and, with the lasso, unerring in their hands, captured the horses attached to, and, on the instant, made off with one of the guns. On reaching a distance of three hundred yards, they halted and prepared to turn the fire of the howitzer upon the Americans. From some unaccountable reason, it would not go off. Lieutenant Davidson did his utmost to prevent the loss of this gun, and after several narrow escapes from dangerous lance wounds, as his clothing and saddle sufficiently attested, he was finally stricken down, and nearly gave his life a sacrifice to his heroism.

After being thus badly cut up, and with not more than one or two officers left who had not been either killed or wounded, while the men had been handled with equal severity, the Americans were obliged to take refuge at a point of rocks which chanced to be near where their advance had been defeated. A rally was made at this place. The Mexicans, however, did not venture to attack them. Both sides were apparently weary of fighting for that day. The firing ceased, and soon after, night closed over the scene of the battle field.

These California Mexicans, previous to the war with the United States, were considered by the mountaineers as the bravest Spanish blood in the Mexican provinces. During the war, they proved that they had not been over-estimated, as they met their foes, at the commencement of hostilities, with a determination to win, or sell their lives dearly. The reason of this difference of courage in their favor over their countrymen who inhabited the internal States, is supposed to be owing to their opportunities for intercourse with the bold mariners from different countries who visited them in ships for the purpose of trade. This commerce consisted in the transporting into the country of such articles as arms, ammunition, groceries, and dry goods, for which were bartered, hides, tallow, and furs. The currency of California at that time was hides, which were estimated as so many dollars. The raising of cattle and horses was the leading employment of the people, and occupied most of their time. On the discovery of gold, these affairs underwent a change, and the rapid strides of civilization has left this people far in the minority. The horses of California were celebrated as being larger than the ponies of New Mexico, and also for being much fleeter of foot. The California rider, at that time, was looked upon as being unrivaled by those who had witnessed his performances. However, the intercourse between the two countries was very limited among the Mexicans, and it was difficult to find a New Mexican who had seen the Pacific. Their dialects were also slightly different, as much so as happens in the dependencies of any other country. It was fear of the Indians that put a damper on the travel between these adjoining districts. The society of the man who had had the boldness to make a journey to California from New Mexico was courted, he being considered a renowned traveler. His amusing stories of large ships and the men who managed them, and also, of the great expanse of the ocean, amazed his auditors and made them deeply interested in his conversation and information. It has become a strange sight to look upon whole communities of men, who have only heard of steamboats, telegraphs, railroads and other great improvements and inventions of the age, yet there are thousands of men living in the great interior of the North American continent who have only vague ideas of these things; and many there are, who cannot realize them, but believe that they are fabulous stories, and will meet the narrator of them with equal wonders, which they manufacture to suit the occasion. To give a specimen: we remember one night to have tried to explain these advancements to an old Mexican of some eighty winters, while we were the guest of his house. He listened attentively, but evidently could comprehend but little that we said. We changed the subject, and began to describe to him the great beasts of the forest, such as the lion, the tiger, and the elephant, and soon found that we had struck the theme which pleased him. In reply, he told us that in his younger days he himself was a famous hunter; and that, on one occasion, while on the chase, he met Adam, who, he informed us, was the greatest hunter of his age. We were somewhat surprised to hear this old man thus annihilate time and space, but not more so than when we heard him relate the conversation that passed between himself and Adam. It was both short and sweet. The Mexican demanded of Adam what was the particular game he was seeking in these parts, and the reply was deer. He said that he wished to kill a few choice bucks, in order to get their skins to clothe Eve with, and hence he had come to the Rocky Mountains. The flavor of this yarn was so good, I attempted to try the old man on another adventure, by asking him if he ever, by chance, in his travels, met the Evil One. Immediately, he informed me that at one time, that gentleman lived in a salt marsh, which is to be found in the valley of San Louis. The object of his staying there was to watch a very fine band of horses which he was raising near by. The Indians and Mexicans one day determined to deprive Satan of his stock, and arranged things accordingly; but, on coming upon the horses, they were surprised to find that they could not overtake them, and that the horses ran directly into the swamp and vanished by easily sinking out of sight. While looking for a path that led into this marsh, they were all at once scared nearly out of their senses by seeing the devil raise himself up in the midst of the bog. The sequel was, that the Mexicans and their Indian friends retreated as fast as possible, and never stopped until they had reached a place of safety. My companions became vexed to think any man could perpetrate such a story on travelers, who considered they knew a thing or two, and commenced quizzing the old gentleman by asking him what the Indians knew of Satan; but the old Mexican evaded the answer by taking down the little wooden cross which hung on the wall of the room and expressed the desire to confirm the truth of his story by swearing to it; this, of course, was said to be entirely unnecessary. From it, we had learned the lesson never to try to impress on the minds of the ignorant too weighty matters. This is true with the Indian also; for, he is incredulous of anything beyond the grasp of his own mind; which fact is illustrated by the following incident. An American had some business to transact with a certain band of Indians, who were celebrated as being very treacherous. Being a bold man, he thought he would beard the lions in their den, and accordingly, traveled alone to where the band was located; but, instead of being received with open arms, as he expected, he was made a prisoner, and so held until it could be decided what was to be done with him. At last, a council was formed, before which he was to be tried. The first question asked by the head chief was, "How do your white people get gunpowder?" The reply was instantaneous: "We sow it in a peculiar soil and it grows up like wheat." This was responded to by a grunt from the examiner. A pause ensued, when the chief looked the captive full in the eyes, and thus addressed him: "Know you, young man, that the Great Spirit came into our camp this morning, and after resting a short time he took yonder large hill and placed it on the top of its fellow, and after leaving it there two hours, he returned it to its former site. He then bid his Indian children good bye. Young man, your tongue is split: one fork is for telling lies, and the other is for telling truths." This was enough to convince the white man that he had made a mistake, and, that if he had attempted to presume on too much knowledge, his scalp might soon be dangling on some lodge-pole. The Indians admired the brave and manly course he had pursued in coming to them single-handed, and this, with the importance of the business he came on, saved his life.

The California Mexicans were so remote from their capital, that, although they acknowledged their allegiance to the general government, yet they were accustomed, in many things, to act with great independence. Whenever a governor was sent to them who would not conform to their rules and regulations, or made himself in the least obnoxious, he was immediately placed on board ship, with orders to take himself out of the country as fast as possible, which he never failed to obey, in order to save his life. Attempts were made by the home department to make them suffer for these disobediences of the general laws, but, in all of these contests, the Californians came out victorious, and hence they believed they were beyond the power of being vanquished. They were taught differently by the Americans.

These few cursory remarks will serve to show the reader that General Kearney had no despicable foe to overcome and subdue. His care now was to attend to the wounded. There was no rest for his command that night, as, during the hours of darkness, his men were busy interring their dead and looking after the wants of the sufferers. A sharp look-out, also, was kept on the movements of the enemy, who were continually receiving reinforcements. A council of war was held in the American camp, when Gen. Kearney, after taking the advice of his remaining officers, decided to move on early in the morning, with the hope of meeting reinforcements. He had dispatched three men as bearers of dispatches to Commodore Stockton at San Diego before the battle; but, whether they had been successful, or not, in reaching the commodore, the general did not know. Just before the late fight, they had returned to within sight of their friends, when they were taken prisoners by the Mexicans. The order of the march on the following day was as follows: Kit Carson, with a command of twenty-five men, proceeded in the advance, while the remainder, of the now very much crippled band of soldiers, followed after on the trail made by their guide. Steadily and compactly these brave men moved forward, being continually in expectancy of a charge from the enemy, who would show themselves, from time to time, on the neighboring hills, and then again, for a time, disappear. During the previous day, a Mexican lieutenant had his horse shot from under him and he himself had been taken prisoner. On a favorable opportunity occurring, General Kearney ordered the "halt" to be sounded; when, through a flag of truce, he asked a parley. It being granted, he succeeded in making an exchange of the lieutenant for one of his expressmen. He gained nothing by this, for the man stated that he and his companions had found it impossible to reach their point of destination, and hence they had turned back. The manoeuvering on the part of the Mexicans, which we have alluded to as consisting of making temporary stands on the hills, and then changing their positions as the Americans drew near to them, continued for the greater part of the day. Finally, as Gen. Kearney and his men were approaching the water, where they, intended to camp, and were not over five hundred yards from it, down came the Mexicans, divided into two separate commands, for the purpose of making a charge. They were at first warmly received by the Americans, who, after a time, were obliged to give way to superior numbers; but, in doing so, they retreated in good order to a hill about two hundred yards to their left. Here they halted and determined to decide the battle; but the wary Mexicans, on seeing the strength of the position taken by their foes, declined to attack them and drew off to a neighboring height, from which they commenced and maintained a deadly fire on the Americans. Captains Emery and Turner, with all the available dragoons, were sent to dislodge them. This they did in splendid style, after a sharp encounter, and when their companions saw them take possession of this position, General Kearney, with all his wounded and luggage trains, joined them there. Here a permanent resting-place, for the time being, was made. In fact, the men had no other choice, as they were now pretty effectually used up from fighting, severe loss and fatigue. The Americans found on this hill water barely sufficient for their own use, and were obliged to exclude the idea of sharing it with their animals. Although within sight of abundance of this much-needed article, yet they did not dare to drive the latter to it, for they were too weak to defend them from the assaults of the enemy. The situation of Gen. Kearney's force was now critical in the extreme; as, besides the dangers that surrounded him, the men were reduced to living on their mules. That afternoon another council of war was called, at which desperate efforts to be made for immediate relief were discussed. When every spark of hope had almost died within them, and when they were in a dilemma as to what still remained for them to do, Kit Carson was found to act as the reader has previously seen him act to parties almost similarly situated—the right man in the right place. Rising to his feet, he addressed a few simple words to those present, saying that he was willing to make the attempt of creeping through the Mexican lines. Should he succeed, he pledged his word that he could carry information to Commodore Stockton at San Diego, and thus bring them succor. No sooner had he made this proposition than he was seconded by Lieutenant Beale, then of the United States Navy, who, equally as brave and daring as Kit Carson, volunteered his services in the undertaking.

This gentleman, since the time he first turned landsman up to the present date, has been adding fresh laurels to his fame. His recent career in exploring new routes across the great western girdle of prairies and mountains is so well known through his valuable and interesting reports as not to require recapitulation at our hands. His life has been one series of rare adventures; while, to the scientific world, he has proved a valuable acquisition. To the United States Government his services are inestimable; and, as an explorer, he has but few equals.

General Kearney at once accepted the noble and generous offers of these two men, knowing that if he waited until the following day and then attempted to leave the hill, the consequences would be most disastrous; for, in so doing, a sanguinary battle must certainly ensue, with the chances greatly against him. Having made the few preparations necessary, Kit Carson and Lieutenant Beale waited the setting in of night, under the cover of which they had both resolved to succeed in the performance of their mission or die in the attempt. Having got well under way, and while stealthily crawling over the rocks and brush, they found their shoes would often, even with the greatest preventive care being taken, strike against the various impediments to their progress and make sounds which might lead to their detection. To avoid this, they took them off and pushed them under their belts. Slowly, but surely, they evaded the vigilant guard of the Mexican sentinels, who they found to be mounted and three rows deep, evidently being determined not to be eluded. So near would they often come to these Mexican sentinels, that but a few yards would measure the distance between them and their enemies; yet, with brave hearts they crept along over the ground foot by foot; they were almost safe beyond these barriers, when all their hopes came near being dashed to pieces. This alarm was caused by one of the sentinels riding up near to where they were, dismounting from his horse and lighting, by his flint and steel, his cigarretto. On seeing this, Kit Carson, who was just ahead of Lieutenant Beale, pushed back his foot and kicked softly his companion, as a signal for him to lie flat on the ground as he (Carson) was doing. The Mexican was some time, being apparently very much at his leisure, in lighting his cigarretto; and, during these moments of suspense, so quietly did Kit Carson and his companion lie on the ground, that Carson said, and still affirms, that he could distinctly hear Lieutenant Beale's heart pulsate. Who can describe the agony of mind to which these brave hearts were subjected during this severe trial. Everything—the lives of their friends as well as their own—so hung on chance, that they shuddered; not at the thought of dying, but for fear they would fail in accomplishing what was dearer to them than life, the rescue of the brave men whose lives hung on their success. After quite a long time, the Mexican, as if guided by the hand of Providence, mounted his horse and made off in a contrary direction from the one where these bold adventurers were biding their time to accept either good, if possible, or evil, if necessary, from the wheel of fortune. For a distance of about two miles, Kit Carson and Lieutenant Beale thus worked along on their hands and knees. Continually, during this time, Kit Carson's eagle eye was penetrating through the darkness, ever on the alert to discover whatever obstacle that might present itself on which was stamped the least appearance of danger. Having passed the last visible image in the shape of a sentinel and left the lines behind them at a suitable distance, both men regained their feet, and once more breathed freely. Their first thought was to look for their shoes, but, alas, they were gone. In the excitement of the journey, they had not given them a thought since depositing them beneath their belts. Hardly a word had hitherto passed between these two companions in danger, but now they spoke hurriedly and congratulated each other on the success that so far had attended them, and thanked God in their hearts that He had so mercifully aided them. There was no time for delay, as they were by no means yet free from danger, though they thought that the worst was over. Kit Carson was familiar with the country, and well knew the necessity of avoiding, for fear of being discovered, all the well trodden trails and roads which led to San Diego, every one of which was closely watched by the enemy. He chose a circuitous route, over rocks, hills and wild lands. The soil was lined with the prickly pear, the thorns of which were penetrating, at almost every step, deep into their bare feet, which, owing to the darkness and the thickness of the plants, they could not avoid. The town of San Diego was located many miles in a straight line from the point from whence they had started, but, by the round-about route they were obliged to travel, this distance was much lengthened. All the following day they continued their tramp and made as much progress as possible. Their mental excitement kept them in good spirits, though, from previous fatigue, the want of food during this time, and by the rapid pace at which they were traveling, they were putting their physical powers to their full test. Another night closed in around them, yet "ONWARD" was their watchword, for they thought not of rest while those behind them were in such imminent peril. Kit Carson's only compass was his eye, which served him so well that soon the dark outlines of the houses of San Diego could just be discerned. Both men were ready to leap with joy. They were challenged by the American sentinels about the town, and answered in pure English, "Friends," which same English was unmistakable proof to the guard from whence they came. On stating their important business, they were conducted into the presence of Commodore Stockton, to whom they related what we have tried to describe. Commodore Stockton, with his usual promptitude, immediately detailed a command of about one hundred and seventy men to make forced marches in order to reach and relieve their besieged countrymen. With as much dispatch as possible, this force set out, taking with them a piece of heavy ordnance, which, for want of animals, the men themselves were obliged to draw, by attaching ropes to it. Kit Carson did not return with them, for it was considered that he had seen service enough for the present; besides, his feet were badly swollen and inflamed from the rough usage they had recently been obliged to submit to. He graphically described the position of Gen. Kearney, so that the relief party could have no difficulty in finding him. He remained to recruit in San Diego; though, had the commodore expressed the least wish to have Kit Carson return, every man who knows him can bear witness with me that he would have been the last person to object, so long as there was life in his body. Unused then to such hardships and mental excitements on land, as was his more experienced companion, Lieutenant Beale, from the trials of the service performed, became partially deranged; and for treatment, was sent on board the frigate Congress, which ship lay in the harbor, being one of the vessels attached to the commodore's fleet. Two long years elapsed before the gallant lieutenant fully recovered from the effects of this adventure, which, for the bravery and unselfishness evinced in its planning, and the boldness with which it was carried out, without mentioning the good results it produced, was not excelled by any one feat performed during the Mexican War. Better than all, had these two men known previously the poor rewards which were afterwards to be bestowed upon them by their government for this heroic deed, I hesitate not in saying, that it would have had no effect in changing their purpose. The reinforcements sent out to meet General Kearney, by traveling both by day and night, soon reached and released him, without coming in contact with the enemy. They kept a bright look-out and were early apprised, through their spies, of what was transpiring among the Americans; hence, as the naval brigade drew near, they retreated. The road being now clear, General Kearney, with his soldiers and the marines, marched on to San Diego, where his wounded men were comfortably housed and received the attentions of skillful surgeons.



CHAPTER XII.

A Command of Six Hundred Men is sent against Los Angelos—The Mexican Army evacuates the Town—Its Capture—Rumors of an Attack to be made on Fremont's Command—The Mexicans surrender—The Winter Quarters—Kit Carson is ordered to carry Dispatches overland to Washington—Lieutenant Beale accompanies him—A Night Attack made by the Indians—Arrival in the United States—Kit Carson's Introduction to Col. Benton and Mrs. Fremont—Hospitality offered to him at Washington—Kit Carson receives the Appointment of Lieutenant in the Rifle Corps of the U.S. Army from President Polk—He is ordered to carry Dispatches to California—The Journey—A Brush with the Camanche Indians—Arrival at Santa Fe—More trouble with hostile Indians—Arrival at Los Angelos—Dispatches delivered—Kit Carson is assigned to do Duty with the Dragoons—Is ordered to Guard Tajon Pass—The Winter spent there—Is ordered again to carry Dispatches to Washington—The Journey and its Adventures—The return to New Mexico.

One month elapsed before the forces of the United States that were concentrated at San Diego were entirely recruited, and in fine trim for taking the field again. At the expiration of this time, a command of six hundred men was detailed for the purpose of capturing Los Angelos. The commanding officers of this force were General Kearney and Commodore Stockton. At Los Angelos was assembled the main strength of the Mexicans then in California; the number of their fighting men was about seven hundred. Towards this town the Americans took up their line of march, and, in the course of a few days, they arrived within fifteen miles of it. The Mexican forces had taken a strong position on a hill, near by where they had pitched their tents and strongly fortified their camp. Between the Americans' and the enemy's camp ran a small river. It was decided to postpone the attack until the following day. Early the next morning, General Kearney ordered two pieces of artillery to be brought to bear upon the Mexican position. The guns were so well and successfully served, that the Mexicans were forced to break up their camp. As soon as this state of things became apparent, General Kearney and Commodore Stockton crossed the river and marched on the town. On entering Los Angelos, they found that it had been evacuated by the Mexicans, and that only a few stragglers remained in or near the place. From some of these they learned that the retreating army had gone to attack Col. Fremont; who, with a force of four hundred Americans collected in Monterey, was also on the march for Los Angelos. It turned out afterwards that the Mexicans succeeded in finding Col. Fremont, but, for unknown reasons, failed to give him battle, as they had boasted they would; but instead, they gave him the preference over the other American commanders by surrendering to him. Col. Fremont continued his journey, and finally reached Los Angelos, where he and all the officers and men heretofore spoken of as engaged in this campaign, rested for the winter, and managed to pass the time very agreeably, considering their remote position. Carson, who had, for a great length of time, been rendering valuable services to Kearney, rejoined Fremont, when that officer arrived in town, and once more enrolled himself on his old commander's muster roll.

We have said that the cold and dreary winter days were passed at Los Angelos as agreeably and happily as the circumstances of the case would permit. This is only true to a certain extent. It was at Los Angelos, and during this winter, that the seeds of discord were first sown between the rival commanders, and the plot carefully laid, which finally led to Colonel Fremont's court martial. Rank, with its green-eyed monster, jealousy, which is ever watching with a restless and caustic determination to snatch from the subaltern his hard-earned laurels, was actively at work during these winter months. By the programme, cut and dried, the ambitious young soldier, who was nobly breasting the conflicts against the enemies of his country, was to be summarily put down, and his career quickly guillotined. These ungenerous plans had their birth and were carefully fostered at Los Angelos; but, the wise decrees of the American people, ever just in the cause of truth, although tardy, came at last to the rescue, and stamped the course with its approval and complete indorsement which had led the bold Explorer to unfurl the standard of his country over the modern El Dorado. In this view the course of the Mexican forces at Los Angelos in surrendering their swords to Colonel Fremont becomes significant. A brave though fallen enemy, seldom fails to admire a heroic, chivalrous and discreet victor. The choice here plainly indicated between Colonel Fremont and General Kearney, we repeat, is sufficiently significant. In Colonel Fremont the fallen chieftains of the brave Californian-Mexicans discerned all the qualities which make up true nobility of character. Many of the men under him were well known to the Mexicans as being upright, honorable and generous. For many years they had lived among them. Hence we discover the reason of their preference in laying down their arms in their presence.

Kit Carson took no active part in these unhappy differences, but, his simple action in leaving General Kearney's command and reenlisting under his old commander shows plainly to a discerning public, that he could not be alienated from his friend by acts of injustice. It also spoke more significantly than words that he adjudged his friend to have performed in behalf of his country, meritorious actions and a great service. Such was Kit Carson's view; and no man was capable of forming a better judgment in the premises than he. As an occupant of an inferior rank, he then kept his counsel to himself; the time has at last arrived when he should fully and appropriately express his opinion, though that opinion he is well aware has been rendered entirely unnecessary by the honorable mention since attached to the name of Fremont by the highest officer in the American service, by the recommendation to the President of the officers of the court to commute the sentence, and by the President of the United States in appointing, unsolicited, the court-martialed Conqueror of California to the high and important trust of commissioner to run the boundary line between the United States and Mexico, and finally, by the spontaneous outburst of enthusiasm which greeted the name of John C. Fremont, from around the firesides of the American people, when his name was placed at the head of one of the great political parties of the nation.

It is not for or against regulations that these remarks are directed. The transactions with which they deal have not been forgotten. They are recorded as historical facts, and, as such, are always open for investigation or deductions. In the month of March, 1847, Kit Carson was ordered to carry important dispatches to the war department at Washington. Lieutenant Beale, who was still a great invalid, was permitted to accompany him. In order to show the regard which Kit Carson entertained for this brave officer, and also to portray to the reader the goodness of heart which has ever been the actuating impulse in all of Kit Carson's actions, we will give his own words in relating this part of his adventures. He says: "Lieutenant Beale went with me as bearer of dispatches intended for the Navy Department. During the first twenty days of our journey, he was so weak that I had to lift him on and off of his riding animal. I did not think for some time that he could live; but, I bestowed as much care and attention on him as any one could have done under the circumstances. Before the fatiguing and dangerous part of our route was passed over, he had so far recovered as to be able to take care of himself. For my attention (which was only my duty) to my friend, I was doubly repaid by the kindness shown to me by his family while I staid in Washington, which was more than I had any reason for expecting, and which will never be forgotten by me." On the river Gila, Kit Carson's party was attacked by Indians during the night, while they were encamped. These savages threw a good round number of arrows into the midst of his men, which, however, did no damage, as, early in the commencement of the assault, he had directed them to hold up before them their pack-saddles, behind which they could pretty securely conceal themselves while lying upon the ground. He also directed the men not to talk, lest they should indicate their positions. It was very dark, and the Indians, from the above precautions being taken, were frustrated in their plans. His men lay very still; and, having previously received the order so to do, they awaited the near approach of the red men, when they were to use their rifles as clubs. The reason which made this latter command best was, because no man could see to shoot; hence, were they to fire at random, they would only expend their ammunition, a loss they were in no situation to sustain. However, the Indians became weary of their shooting after a few hours, and did not hazard a close attack, but went away to parts unknown.

Kit Carson and Lieutenant Beale arrived at Washington in the following June, having accomplished their journey overland, a distance of nearly 4,000 miles, in about three months, a record which shows that they had not been idle while on the route. With the exception of the Indian attack sustained on the Gila, they were not again annoyed by the red men, although, over the vast tract of wild territory which they had traversed, there roam thousands of savages who often, for the slightest pretext, and frequently without any reason whatever, will murder the unsuspecting traveler, as it chances to please them. Hence, to accomplish this journey, it was not only necessary to know the direction to shape their course, but also to be familiar with the haunts and habits of these various tribes, in order to avoid them. All of this knowledge, Kit Carson, the mainspring of this little party, was well possessed of, and, as a matter of business, guided himself and men in a direct and safe course.

The hardships and privations of this trip were trivial affairs when compared to most of Kit Carson's previous adventures, and not considered by him as worthy of mention. Indeed, Kit Carson appears so hardened in all kinds of vicissitudes, that a man, in his eyes, must have stood on the brink of death before he has seen much real suffering; but, probably, if the reader had been one of the members of this party, he would, unless equally experienced in Western frontier life, have considered that he had seen something of the world, and the rough side of it at that.

It requires no small amount of courage and determination to start out with but a handful of men to perform the difficult and dangerous task of threading the American continent from tide to tide, even at the present epoch; but, eleven years ago, there were few men living who had ever performed, or were able to perform the feat at all; much less with the certainty and speed which lay within the power and experience possessed by Kit Carson. In describing these trips, he now speaks of them as lightly as a man would after making a journey of a few hundred miles in a railroad car. He seems to have acted with the idea that this duty was expected of him, and it required but the official orders to send him bounding over the country, without regard to obstacles or dangers. His final object was his destination; which, on reaching, he was ready to quit at a moment's warning, with as much sang froid as a Russian courier possesses when doing his master's bidding. Yet so cautious is he when traveling, that, at first, to a new companion, he often appears to be wanting in courage. Not a bush, a tree, a rock, or any other hiding-place on his path, escapes his notice. Towards the heavens, in search of smoke ascending from, or crows, as they hover about Indian encampments which are deserted, or for ravens, and back again to the earth, on the look-out for moccasin or horse tracks, his eyes are continually turning. There is a nervous action about the man that shows he is ever alive to meet and be ready for any emergency. These traits are sure to instill confidence in his followers.

On starting from Los Angelos, Kit Carson took but a few rations of provisions with him, as he could not burden the few animals he had, too heavily; hence, he was compelled to depend on the rifle and the chances of meeting with game. This, of course, is always an uncertain mode of supporting life, and, consequently, it not unfrequently happened, that the party were out of food and went fasting; yet, not a murmur was heard. On they sped, in the hopes of reaching their homes and firesides, where kind friends were awaiting them, and where their cares and troubles would be buried in the past, and appear like dreams. In the breast of the leader of this expedition, there was throbbing a heart that was anxious to do its duty well, for he was approaching, not his family circle, but instead, the fireside of strangers to whom he was only known by name. Yet, in the common cause of his country's honor, he recognized in every American with whom he came in contact his true friend, and therefore he, also, was very happy as he neared Washington. There he looked confidently forward to hear the words: "Well done thou good and faithful servant." At St. Louis, Kit Carson had the honor of an introduction to the Hon. Thomas H. Benton, who was greatly interested in him, and who kindly invited him to make his house in Washington his home during his stay there. Of this invitation Kit Carson availed himself, and since considers that he was very fortunate in doing so, for the best of everything was heaped upon him, while he enjoyed the satisfaction of meeting and conversing with the great men of his country.

Mrs. John C. Fremont, daughter of Colonel Benton, and wife of the distinguished explorer, was in attendance at the railroad depot, when the train of cars in which Kit Carson was traveling arrived in Washington. It was quite late in the evening when he reached the terminus of his journey; yet, notwithstanding this, Kit had hardly landed on the platform of the depot, before he was addressed by a lady who said that she knew him from her husband's descriptions of him, and that he must accept the hospitalities of her father's house.

The distinguished father-in-law of John C. Fremont became, from the time of their first meeting in St. Louis, the warm friend and patron of Kit Carson; and, up to the time of his death, he had no cause to change his first impressions of him. There was not a friendly favor within his power which would not have been freely given, had it been asked. It is one thing to make a friend, but another to keep him; and those who knew the true character of Mr. Benton are cognizant of the fact, that he was not easily won; but, when gained, that he was true as steel, as is beautifully illustrated by the able and devoted manner in which he stood by General Andrew Jackson.

It is indeed a valuable possession to know that one has friends who cannot be bought by wealth or other sordid attractions; men, who can discern through the rough garb of the working, as well as thinking man, those noble qualities which place them on a par. This acquisition Kit Carson holds. He easily makes a friend, and never deserts him; hence, those, with whom he comes in contact, who are worthy of this name, are enrolled on his side; and he seldom has occasion to call a man his enemy. Kit Carson was so embarrassed and overcome by the expressions of kindness and hospitality which greeted his first arrival at Washington, that he could hardly essay a reply; and yet, he was almost too happy at the opportunity presented of accepting Mrs. Fremont's invitation. If there was anything wanted to cement Carson more firmly in his friendship and admiration for Colonel Fremont, it was thus to know his accomplished and gifted lady. The situation of Jessie Fremont has often been comparable with that of the noble-hearted Lady Franklin. Again and again has she been compelled to part from her husband when he started out to battle in the cause of science, and, in the words of the poet, she seemingly said:

"Go, wondrous creature! mount where science guides; Go, measure earth, weigh air, and state the tides."

Kit Carson remained some time in Washington; but had it not been for the many tokens of kindness which he there received, he would have grown weary of the restraints of civilization. As it was, he continually longed to be once more in the mountains and prairies. His desire, in time, was granted; for, having received the appointment of lieutenant in the rifle corps of the United States army from President Polk, he was ordered, as bearer of dispatches, to return across the continent from whence he had but recently come. Lieutenant Beale had intended to return with him, but did not eventually proceed any further than St. Louis. There he became too ill to continue on the journey. After arriving at Fort Leavenworth, Kit Carson was furnished with an escort of fifty men, who were volunteers in the war which was then being carried on against Mexico. With his usual promptness and dispatch, Kit Carson was soon under way crossing the plains. At Leavenworth he had learned that the Camanche Indians were at war with the whites. As he knew them to be a numerous and treacherous tribe, he had taken this strong escort in order to give them battle, if they should be anxious for it. However, he arrived at a place called the "Point of Rocks," which is not far from the Rocky Mountains, and on their east side, without discovering any signs of these Indians. At this place they made their appearance.

The "Point of Rocks" appears to be a favorite place of resort for the Indians of the plains. It is notorious as being one of the most dangerous places for the traveler in all the far West. It is a series of continuous hills, which project out on the prairies in bold relief. They end abruptly in a mass of rocks, out of which gushes a cold and refreshing spring, which is the main attraction about the place. The road winds about near this point, and therefore it is a chosen spot for the Indians to lurk, in order to catch the unwary pilgrim. Several encounters with the savages have taken place here, which has caused it to be pointed out as the scene of bloody tragedies, thereby making it quite historical. The Indians themselves have made this spot the stage on which has been enacted several desperate battles. In making the journey to Santa Fe, when these rocks are passed, the traveler counts his march as being drawn to a close. Government troops, on the look-out for Indians on the plains, rarely fail, when they come from New Mexico, to give this place a visit.

Kit Carson had arrived at the place with his escort, and was about establishing his camp. His men were under orders to keep a vigilant watch for Indians, while Kit Carson's restless eye was searching the country in every direction to discover their signs. About three hundred yards distant he discovered white men, and found there was encamped a company of United States volunteers, under the command of Lieutenant Mulony. With this company was a large train of wagons bound for New Mexico. Kit Carson ordered his men to go into camp. The night passed by without any signs of the Indians; but, early in the morning of the subsequent day, as Lieutenant Mulony's men were leading out their animals to picket them in fresh grass, the savages suddenly made their appearance and began an attack upon the picketing party, capturing all their cattle and twenty-six horses. Mulony's men had left their rifles in camp, and therefore, in order to escape being killed, they retreated to their wagons. The cattle, in the confusion which ensued, turned and came towards Kit Carson's camp. He and his men, who were instantly on the alert, made an unexpected charge upon the Indians and recaptured the oxen. During the skirmish which ensued, two of his men dismounted, in order to be more certain of a deliberate aim, but, in so doing, they accidentally let their own horses go loose, and lost them, as they ran away with those that were being stampeded by the red men.

In this affair three of the volunteers were wounded. With the two horses lost by Kit Carson's men, twenty-eight riding animals, belonging to the United States government, were stolen by this band of Camanches. But, had it not been for Kit Carson and his men, Lieutenant Mulony would have lost his cattle likewise.

Young oxen, when stampeded, are sometimes lost by the Indians. When not killed by wolves they usually join with the herds of buffalo and soon become wild. In this state, they are represented as being quite fleet of foot. More generally, they fall a prey to the wolves, and sometimes, again into the hands of the savages. A party was crossing the plains in the year 1854; the advance of the party sent back word that the first buffalo was in sight. Many amateur hunters eagerly volunteered for the chase, and soon, quite a squad of men were traveling at a good round gallop towards the supposed game. On approaching the game, it was found to be an old lame ox, which had been turned out by some caravan to die. The disappointment which prevailed in this crowd of neophyte hunters, on discovering this mistake, can be better imagined than described. The poor ox, apparently, had no idea of giving up the ghost quite yet. He was in good health and spirits, and showed signs of being pleased to see a white man again. The little birds of the prairies had used him as a perch. This office he appeared quite accustomed to perform, for he did not disturb the flock that was then occupying his back. How he had escaped the wolves is a miracle.

From signs discovered after the Indians had decamped, it became evident that several of the thieves had been mortally wounded; but, being tied on their horses, they were carried out of sight before they died. This is a fair sample of many of the Indian fights which have occurred, and are yet not unfrequent, on the prairies; the object of the savages is to plunder; therefore, an unguarded moment is selected for their attacks. In this instance, by the time the whites had got their firearms and men ready to commence the contest, the Indians had perpetrated their intended assault and were off.



The Camanches are excelled by no men in the world in their horsemanship, not excepting the famous Cossacks of Europe. The level prairies are beautiful fields for them to act on. It is in a skirmish similar to the one we have endeavored to describe, that they put these qualifications to the test. The arena where these scenes are enacted is a very undesirable place for a mere spectator. Kit Carson and party resumed their march the same day, and arrived safely at Santa Fe, without meeting with any other adventures. At this town he left his escort of fifty volunteers, and hired sixteen other men with which to perform the remainder of his journey. This was in obedience to the orders he had received at Fort Leavenworth. Pursuing his route on Muddy Creek, a tributary of Virgin River, he came upon a village of some three hundred Indians, so suddenly, as his route twisted about among the hills, that he had to make a bold matter of it, and go into camp, for the purpose of having a "talk." Kit Carson had learned some time before that these very red men had massacred seven Americans. For this reason he determined not to trust them, even if they professed friendship. The Indians wished to come into his camp, but this privilege he would by no means grant to them. He posted his men and selected a place so that he himself could talk, and at the same time let them see that if the least hostile demonstration was made by their side, it would be answered by a volley of bullets from the rifles of the white men. Kit Carson harangued them and informed them that he knew of the murders they had committed on his people during the past year. He told them that they bore a treacherous character and could not be treated as friends, and wound up his discourse by adding, that he would not allow himself to be deceived, for he knew that their only object in gaining admission into his camp was to repeat their bloody acts. He now gave them a limited period of time in which to be off, at the expiration of which, several lounged about, apparently doubting his words. He now gave the order to fire. In consequence, a few shots were aimed at them, which killed one and wounded three or four others. This had the tendency to hurry the movements of the remainder, who retired from the dangerous proximity to his camp. This was a case which required some nerve and great experience in the commander of the little party. Nothing but the personal courage and promptness of Kit Carson saved his command. The success of fifteen men against three hundred Indians in this manner, is chiefly due to their commander.

The party proceeded on their journey, but soon were troubled for food. Having used up all the game they could find, they were obliged to kill two mules, on which they lived until they arrived at Los Angelos. Kit Carson, finding that the officers to whom he was ordered to deliver his dispatches were at Monterey, journeyed thither, and having reached that town in safety, gave the documents to Col. Mason, then of the First Regiment of United States dragoons, who was in command. Obeying orders, Kit Carson, now an acting lieutenant in the United States army, returned to Los Angelos and was assigned to do duty in the company of United States dragoons commanded by Captain Smith. Kit was allowed little time to recruit, but his restless disposition did not ask, nor his habits require it; consequently, he remained at Los Angelos only a short period. With a command of twenty-five dragoons, he was ordered to proceed to Tajon Pass, the main outlet through which hostile Indians went out of California, bearing the proceeds of their incursions, such as cattle, horses, sheep and captives. Kit Carson's duty in this place was to intercept the Indians and examine their papers and cargoes. He spent the winter in doing much good in this service. In the spring, he was again ordered to proceed overland to Washington, with dispatches. An escort being furnished him, he was soon under way, and had reached Grand River without encountering any serious difficulty. At this place an accident happened to his party while crossing the river on rafts.

During the early part of summer, the fording of streams which have their source in the Rocky Mountains is no safe or easy task. When the sun and the warm south winds begin to melt the immense piles of snow and ice in the mountains, the water comes tumbling down in torrents; and, having overflowed the rivers' banks, floods the adjacent country. By this means, new gullies and ravines are continually forming, which, when the melting process ceases, are converted into dry beds. With this rush of angry water, large rocks and masses of earth are swept from their natural seat, leaving a wreck behind that is fearfully grand to behold. The roaring of these torrents as they come leaping past and over every obstacle, resembles a low, rumbling thunder, which is reechoed through the deep forests and canons. Sometimes travelers are compelled to wait weeks before these rivers fall sufficiently to allow a safe transit. Heavy rains have the same effect to enlarge them; and, in one instance, a body of soldiers, while crossing the plains, were overtaken by these rains, which fell with such rapidity and in such quantity as to make the level prairies almost one sheet of water, while every ravine was converted into a river, swift and deep. To cross these, the men were obliged to use their best exertions with very poor means to guard against loss; and, even with the best care, one man was drowned, while several mules shared the same fate. In the prospective construction of bridges for highroads and railroad tracks across the continent, in certain seasons of the year, this sudden accumulation and explosion of water may cause trouble by sweeping them suddenly away.

This accident crippled the resources of Kit Carson's party very much and caused them afterwards great suffering. The accident occurred something after the following manner. One division of the men, with their leader as a companion, had constructed a float of logs, on which they had crossed the stream in safety; but the second branch of the party, under charge of Lieutenant Brewerton, then of the United States army, and who was traveling in company with Kit Carson, were not so successful with their raft; for, no sooner did they get it into the swift current than it became unmanageable, and finally precipitated its contents, among which were included several of the men and their luggage, into the water. The wrecked men with great difficulty saved their lives by swimming to the shore from which they had started. The day was far spent and no attempt to succor them could be made that evening; so, in their semi-state of nudity, and without the means of making a fire, they passed a miserably cold night; but, early the next morning, one of their friends recrossed and carried them an axe, by the aid of which a new raft was made, on which they embarked a second time and were soon safe with their companions. Among the very useful articles that were lost by this mishap there were several saddles and six valuable rifles. What made this loss peculiarly unpleasant was, that they could not be replaced until the party could reach the settlements. The owners of the saddles were now in a sad plight; for, neither to the rider or his horse is it a very pleasant prospect to make a long journey without these useful articles. After repairing their damages as best they could, they struck out afresh. Setting aside hunger and the suffering experienced from exposure to cold, they were not again incommoded in any way until they had come to the vicinity of the Mexican towns. Here they met several hundred Utah and Apache Indians. These red skins showed some warlike symptoms which Kit Carson did not in the least fancy; but, to make the best of his situation, he ordered his men to post themselves in a neighboring thicket and be ready to act on the defensive. Kit Carson then informed the Indians that they must keep at a proper distance, or otherwise he would direct his men to fire into them. He told them that if they were disposed to be friendly, which they professed to be, towards the white men, they could show it by leaving and not annoying his party, who, being nearly naked and in a destitute condition, could give them nothing. Evidently the savages saw this was true, and so did not hazard a fight, but departed. Kit Carson traveled that night ten miles further. It was late in the day when he again ventured on the trail, but this distance was all that his animals could accomplish without food and rest, for they were fatigued and poor. His object in thus resuming his march, was to separate himself and men as far as he could from the Indians, fearing that they might change their minds and conclude to attack him. Being too weak, his party was in no condition for an engagement. At the end of this distance he fortunately met with a party of volunteers, who had been out in search of these very savages, in order that they might punish them for some rascality they had been recently guilty of. The next day Kit Carson reached Taos, where he allowed himself a short respite for the purpose of recruiting, and also to have the pleasure of a visit to his family and friends. These were privileges which, during his life in the mountains, had been seldom granted to him, though his feelings of attachment for relatives and intimate acquaintances are not exceeded by those of any living man. Indeed, his love for his children is unbounded. We have several times heard him assert, that if there was any one thing that could make him a coward, it would be the thoughts of his little ones. When his party was sufficiently recruited, Kit Carson left Taos and proceeded to Santa Fe. At this time Colonel Newby, of the Illinois Volunteers, was in command of the United States forces stationed there. This gentleman informed Kit Carson that his appointment as lieutenant, made by President Polk, was not confirmed by the United States Senate. Many of Kit's friends, on hearing this, came to him and advised him not to carry the dispatches any further; but, instead, they counseled him to deliver them to the commanding officer of the post he was at, advising him that he was doing duty as an officer in the army and yet was not recognized by government. The language used by Kit Carson on this occasion, in reply to his friends, is so much to his credit and is so like the man, that every American citizen ought to know it. It was as follows: "I was intrusted with these dispatches, having been chosen in California, from whence I come, as the most competent person to take them through safely. I would try to fulfill this duty even if I knew it would cost me my life. It matters not to me, while I am performing this service for my country, whether I hold the rank of a lieutenant in the United States army, or am known merely as an experienced mountaineer. I have gained some little honor and credit for the manner in which I have always conducted myself when detailed on any special and important business, and I would on no account now wish to forfeit the good opinion formed of me by a majority of my countrymen because the United States Senate did not deem it proper to confer on me an appointment which I never solicited, and one which, had I been confirmed, I would have resigned at the termination of the war."

The reasons why the wishes of the President were not carried out by Congress in this instance, we know not; but, certain it is, that the lucky aspirant who eventually received this office at the hands of the same United States, had no credentials to present that could, as far as merit was concerned, compare with those held by Christopher Carson. It is fair to infer, that Kit Carson had but few friends at court, though it cannot for one moment be supposed that his name was not well known at Washington, when for five long years he had been the right-hand man of John C. Fremont in his explorations. The privates and the hardships which that commander and his guide willingly submitted to during those years, it is impossible to describe through reports. The whole newspaper press of the United States, together with several volumes of well-written books, have attempted it, but all have failed in giving a true picture of the reality. These things availed nothing when brought in contact with political moves; and Kit Carson was doomed to go by the board. He had, however, met, during his eventful life, with too many disappointments to be much chagrined at this, and we find him, soon afterwards, making inquiries in relation to the state of feeling among the Indians who inhabited the country through which he had to pass.

The appointment of civilians to the responsible duties of a command in the United States army has, of late years, become, in many instances, very unfortunate. Perhaps it is this that has taught our legislators a lesson. But there is a truth which lies above this difficulty. The severe ordeal necessary to be gone through with at West Point, in order to make military men of the proper standard, has very naturally raised a jealousy between these two classes of men. This is very healthy for the country, as it stimulates each to noble exertions. In order to make the army less secluded, it is necessary to appoint a certain per-centage of men from the walks of private life, and therefore the most meritorious should be selected. West Point men, as a body, are a great credit to our country; and, as a scientific corps, they cannot be surpassed; but, the fact is incontrovertible, that many, if not most of the leading officers of the United States army, are self-educated, and have risen to their exalted positions by untiring industry and distinguished services. For frontier work, men, to be capable of taking command, are required to have great experience in Indian strategy, and to become accustomed to endure privations and vicissitudes. These cannot be taught by schools or books. For these positions those are best fitted who have been trained to the mountains from earliest boyhood, and where is the man in North America who has battled in this service longer or more successfully than Christopher Carson? But Kit Carson could see no reason why the votes of the United States Senators, refusing to confirm the President's effort to reward him for his services to his country, should cause him for one moment to swerve from his duty. He pocketed at once his disappointment, and went to work. Colonel Newby informed him that the Camanches had of late been very hostile, and that they were then roaming in war parties, numbering from two to three hundred, scattered along the old Santa Fe road, on which their depredations had, so far, been mostly committed. On learning this, Kit Carson determined to make a trail of his own, and endeavor thus to avoid them. He reduced the number of his escort to ten trusty followers. With them, he returned to Taos, and after a halt there of two days, once more was on the march. At first, he traveled to the northward, until he reached a tract of country which these Indians seldom visited; then, changing his route by compass, he struck the Bijoux River, which is a tributary of the Platte River, and followed it down stream. At about twenty-five miles from the mouth of the Bijoux, he quit that stream, and struck out diagonally across the prairies, and soon reached the Platte itself, down which he journeyed to Fort Kearney. Here he again changed his course for the Republican Fork. On leaving this last-named stream, he traveled direct to Fort Leavenworth, finally reaching that post with his men and animals in fine condition, for the journey had been as pleasant as could have been expected. Here he left his escort, and set out alone for Washington. After reaching the land of railroads and steamboats, he was but a few days in bringing the latter part of his journey to an end. Handing his dispatches to the proper authorities, Kit Carson turned right about and made his way to New Mexico, where he arrived in the month of October, 1848.

It will be seen by following on a map the route which Kit Carson planned on this occasion, that it was very circuitous, and led him a great distance out of his way. Indeed he was, at times, far beyond the roaming grounds of the Camanches, but this was necessary. He was not, however, free from danger; but was obliged to be on the lookout for their allies, the Kiowas, who are usually at war whenever the Camanche nation is. His trail led him through a country which is celebrated as abounding in game, and also in being well watered, and last, but not least, the desideratum of finding grass of a good quality, whenever he desired it, was proved a valuable assistant on the march. It may be well to mention here, that one of the most curious of the phenomena of the plains, to the inexperienced traveler, are those mirages which, on every clear day, are sure to meet and delude his eyes. So wonderful are these deceptions, that often the vision leads one to believe he is beholding, in the distance, a beautiful city which is located on the banks of some attractive lake. The outlines of the palaces, spires of cathedrals, and even the lesser buildings themselves, all surrounded with trees, bearing luxuriant and green foliage, together, form an imaginary picture which throws into the background any of the realities which are the work of man. The shading is oftentimes very captivating, and on it the traveler can be entertained for hours, until a change in the rays of light or intervening clouds, or else by approaching the delusion itself, the magic scene fades away. A mirage and a prairie on fire, seen by night, the one a delusion, the other a fearful reality, are two of the grandest sights to be seen in the far West; we might add, on the American continent.



CHAPTER XIII.

Kit Carson at his Home—The Apache Indians become hostile—An Expedition sent against them—It is not successful—Another is organized, with which, Kit Carson goes as Guide—Two Indian Chiefs captured—Other Incidents of the Trip—Colonel Beall attempts to force the Indians to give up Mexican Captives—Two thousand Savages on the Arkansas River—The Visit to them—Kit Carson emigrates and builds a Ranche at Rayado—Description of the Valley—The Massacre of a Santa Fe Merchant—His Wife is made Prisoner—The Expedition sent to rescue her—The Indians overtaken—Bad Counsel and Management—The commanding Officer wounded—Mrs. White's Body found—Severe Snow Storm on the Plains—One Man frozen to Death—Kit Carson returns to Rayado—The occupation of a Farmer resumed—The Apaches steal from the Settlers nearly all their Animals—Kit Carson with thirteen others in the Pursuit—The Surprise—A running Fight—The Animals recovered—A gallant Sergeant and his Fate—Kit Carson and Goodel go on a Trading Expedition to meet California Emigrants at Fort Laramie—Humorous Adventures—The Dangers that beset the Road to New Mexico—Hair-breadth Escape—Arrival at Taos.

Being comfortably housed in his own pleasant home at Taos, Kit Carson made up his mind to treat himself to a more lengthy stay there than he had for some time enjoyed. While he was quietly enjoying the pleasures of home, active operations were transpiring about him, for the neighboring Indians had dug up the tomahawk and buried the calumet, and were holding in defiance the United States forces, which had been stationed in New Mexico to protect its inhabitants. Colonel Beall was at that time commanding officer of the district, and had established his head-quarters at Taos. The colonel, soon after assuming the command, being a resolute man, saw that there was but one way to deal with these Indians, and that was to bring them to a strict account, and make them amenable for their many crimes. This tribe of Apaches has given the government of the United States almost as much trouble as have the Seminoles in Florida, and I hesitate not in saying, that before they are exterminated, which is the only sure plan of making a peace with them, they will have surpassed their red brethren of the swamps of the South in the number and enormity of their crimes. Before New Mexico came under the jurisdiction of the United States, the Apaches, for many years, had committed all kinds of heinous offences against the Mexicans; and, for a period of ten years after that event, these same savages were continually on the war path, notwithstanding military expeditions, one after another, were organized and sent out against them. Their mountain retreats are almost inaccessible to white men, while the Indians, apparently, play about in them like rabbits. The amount of physical endurance and the length of the journeys these red men can make, appear very astonishing to one not accustomed to them. The Apaches, as an Indian race, are not wanting in bravery, the best evidence of which statement is, that nearly all their warriors die in battle. Their country is the healthiest in America. Besides waging war against the whites and Mexicans, they have their differences to settle with their neighboring tribes, with whom they are punctilious in vindicating their national honor. Colonel Beall commenced his operations against these Indians by dispatching a junior officer, backed by a strong force, with orders to pursue, overtake, and chastise them. This expedition started; but, on coming to the mountains, the guides reported that there was too much snow on them for the command to pass through in safety; so the undertaking was given up, and the men were marched back to Taos.

The most famous war chief of the Apaches, during these troubles, was called by the Mexicans Chico Velasques, and his name, for many years, was a terror to the surrounding country. His savage brutality knew no bounds, and he was truly in his element, only when he was tearing the bloody scalp from his half-lifeless victim. He was the sworn enemy of the Americans and Mexicans, and his hunting-knife was rarely clean of human blood, until his cruel life, by the wise decrees of an all-seeing Providence, was suddenly cut short. He fought against his disease (small pox) with that rashness that had been his ruling spirit through life, and thus ingloriously terminated his days. The pride of this man was to strut through the Mexican towns and gloat over his many crimes. To the gazing crowd, he would point out the trophies of his murders, which he never failed to have about him. To his fringed leggins were attached the phalanges (or finger bones) of those victims whom he had killed with his own hands. On the one side, he proclaimed to his auditors, were the fingers of the Mexicans, while on the other, were the same tokens from the Americans; and it gave him great delight, ironically, to dwell upon the latter name. With whip in hand, he struck out right and left when anything displeased him. He met one day more than his match in the person of the famous Mexican hunter, Armador Sanchez, of whom we have previously spoken. The circumstances of this rencounter were as follows: The bold Indian, with but few followers, was on a visit of pleasure to the Mexican town of Culebro. He had agreed to a temporary peace, to suit his convenience and ends; and, taking advantage of it, he made his appearance in the settlements, to lord it over the peaceable inhabitants. After indulging in a little fire-water, his wicked propensities could be controlled no longer, and broke forth in minor cruelties. At last he found himself in the house belonging to Sanchez, who was quietly conversing with his aged father, for whom he had great veneration, and also with his son. The Indian peremptorily demanded that some whisky should be given him. He was informed by Sanchez that he did not keep the article. A second demand was now made, with the threat that if it was not forthcoming immediately, he would whip the person who refused him. This had the effect of bringing Sanchez to his feet, when the following colloquy, in Spanish, between him and the Indian transpired: "Chico Velasques, you have long been accustomed to treat our people almost as you please. You have robbed and murdered us at your will, notwithstanding we have given you no cause thus to act. Had you asked for bread, I would have given it to you, for the door of my house is always open to the friendly red man; but, as for whisky, you can have none from my hands. Raise that whip but once to strike me, and I will dash your brains out with this mass of lead." Suiting his actions to his words, Sanchez drew forth from the pocket of his hunting-shirt a slung shot that weighed nearly four ounces, which he always carried to dispatch his game with when it was in the last agonies of death. With uplifted hand, the Indian hesitated; for, he knew the character of the man who stood before him, as they had hunted together during many moons gone by, on the same mountains and on the same trail. At last, using his own savage dialect, in order that his words could not be understood by others about him, the savage answered the Mexican hunter by saying, "that by chance they might some day meet again;" a threat which fell harmless at the feet of Sanchez. As he took his departure, the chief added, in Spanish, "I will tell these things to my father,[20] Kit Carson," as if further attempting to intimidate the hunter; but Sanchez knew that his own and Carson's opinions were the same in regard to this man; therefore, he smiled at the rascal's knavery. Chico Velasques was followed in his chieftainship by Blanco, who did his utmost to walk in the footsteps of his illustrious predecessor; but, he was not so cunning, and was less successful in his encounters with the Americans and Mexicans, and therefore had not that influence with his tribe which the former possessed. Still, he performed his quantum of mischief, and yet lives to play his part in the great drama of Indian life. An Apache Indian is rather small in stature, but everything about him denotes symmetry and strength. His limbs are almost straight, and their muscles are as hard as iron. The elasticity of his movements, when in the least excited, shows a high degree of physical training. His coal-black eye exhibits an amount of treachery rarely seen elsewhere, proving the truth of the Chinese adage, that "the tongue may deceive, but the eye can never play the rogue."

[Footnote 20: This expression of "father," with these Indians, means their agent.]

But to return to the narrative. The commanding officer of the party sent out against these Indians, on arriving again at Taos, reported to Col. Beall that the reason he had returned was because, at the present time, it was impracticable to cross the mountains. That brave and experienced officer replied, "that there was no such word as impracticable in the soldier's vocabulary, and that nothing ought to be impossible for the 1st regiment of United States dragoons to accomplish." Suiting his actions to his words, Col. Beall reorganized the command, took charge of it himself, and employed Kit Carson as his guide. When everything was in proper trim, this expedition set out, and after surmounting many obstacles and privations, finally accomplished the feat of crossing the snow-clad mountains, and after a long and fruitless search for the Indians, the men were obliged to turn about, because their stock of provisions was running low. As the command emerged through the "Sangre de Christo Pass," on their return route, they came suddenly into view of a village of Apaches. As soon as the Indians were discovered the charge was sounded, but the animals of the dragoons were too much jaded to obey the summons with the celerity wished for by their riders; the result was that, besides a considerable amount of plunder, only two persons were taken, but they, fortunately, proved to be no less than two important chiefs. In order to impress these Indians with the fairness and liberality which his government wished to show to the red men, after a long talk, in which the colonel exacted promises of good behavior, he let the prisoners go. They departed, to forget as quickly as possible all their vows and promises; for, seemingly, they will act in no other way than as their own savage instinct teaches. After this affair, Col. Beall made a direct march for Taos, where he remained for some time, attending to the ordinary duties of his garrison.

In the treaty between the United States and New Mexico, entered into at the close of the Mexican War, a clause was inserted binding the former to turn over to the latter all the Mexican captives then held by the Indians who inhabited territory belonging to the first named government. The carrying out of this provision of the treaty involved the United States government in a large and constant bill of expense. This was, undoubtedly, unavoidable, for even had the clause not been inserted in the treaty, the maintenance of about the same frontier military forces would have been necessary. It would have proved a difficult matter to carry out this treaty to the letter.

If it had been so carried out to the letter, the Camanches would have been great sufferers, for at least one third of the blood that now runs in their veins is Mexican. During the last half century, and perhaps longer, they have been accustomed to make annual visits into the Mexican settlements of Old Mexico. The object of these hostile incursions has ever been to load themselves with plunder. They steal all the horses that fall in their way, and also take for captives as many young children as they can lay hands on. The latter are brought up in true Indian style, and, having cast off all remembrance of their former habits and friends, they gradually become the wild men of the plains. The female captives, on arriving at the suitable age, are married to the young warriors of the tribe, and thus the true Indian stock, becoming amalgamated with the Mexico-Spanish blood, is fast becoming degenerated. The reason, therefore, why the fulfillment of this treaty would have militated strongly against the Camanche Indians especially, is clearly apparent.

In the following February, Col. Beall learned that on the Arkansas River there were congregated a large body of Indians, who had quite a number of Mexicans in bondage. He felt it to be his duty to visit these savages and endeavor to have them deliver up all such captives, using peaceable means to accomplish this result in the first instance; and, should they fail, he made up his mind to resort to more forcible and potent arguments. With this determination, and with two companies of dragoons to back him and Kit Carson as his guide, he set out on his mission. In due time he reached the Arkansas, and there found congregated four tribes of Indians who numbered in the vicinity of two thousand souls. Their object in thus coming together was to have a grand council and lay out plans for the future, and also to meet their agent. This agent, who was an experienced mountaineer, informed the colonel that, considering the present state of ill feeling existing among these Indians towards the whites, it would be useless to make the demand for the prisoners; and as to using force, it would almost certainly prove a failure, when such a large number of well armed warriors were arrayed against him. It required a great deal of persuasion to bring the colonel around to this mode of thinking; but, at last he yielded to the advice of his friends and concluded to make no demonstration against the Indians at the present time, concluding, as his anger cooled, that it was the wisest policy to await a more favorable opportunity, when a treaty could be made with them, in which there could be an article inserted that would stipulate for the restoration of the captives.

In parting with these red men without accomplishing the main object for which they came, both officers and men felt that their labors had not been entirely thrown away. Their presence must have left lasting impressions on the minds of the savages, in showing them that they no longer had poorly clad and poorly armed Mexican soldiers to deal with.

On arriving again in Taos, Kit Carson returned to his home to ruminate over what was best for him to take up as a business for the future. He revolved in his thoughts his past career, and, in the end, finished the mental study by resolving to give up his roaming life, as he rightly considered that now was the time, if ever, that he should be making a substantial home for himself and family, before old age crept upon and disabled him from the undertaking. About the time that he was in this frame of mind, his old mountaineer friend, Maxwell, was about going to a pretty little valley called by the Mexicans Rayado. Maxwell proposed to Kit Carson to join him in the enterprise of building a ranche on the site which he had selected. This offer the latter gladly accepted. Rayado would have, long before, been settled by the Mexicans, had they not been deterred by its exposure, and consequent inviting position for Indian depredations. The valley is about fifty miles east from Taos; and, for its scenery, cannot be surpassed by anything of the kind in America. Standing at the head of it on a blunt bluff, you look down and out on the prairies, and nothing can be more enchanting than the view that is thus presented. On each side there are lofty hills, which, when green with grass and foliage, add a magic beauty to the scene. Through the valley, as if it had been intended for its dividing line, runs a broad mountain stream, the banks of which are now metamorphosed into beautiful fields.

We stop here to undeceive the reading public concerning an idea which has gained currency by the extraordinary imaginative writings of novelists. These trashy fictions represent the western plains, or prairies, as flower-beds. In this a great mistake has become prevalent. A traveler often pursues his way over them for many days without seeing anything to interrupt the continuity of green grass except it be the beautiful road over which he is journeying. Near the slopes of the mountains and on the river banks the remark will apply. There, fields of wild flowers are often found growing in great luxuriance.

The settlement was soon after commenced by Kit Carson and Maxwell, and, as now completed, is really a beautiful spot. It is located about midway down the valley. Among its several houses, there are two which are more conspicuous than the rest. In the finest of these two, the owner of which has taken great pains and spent much valuable time with its construction, lives Maxwell, whose honest pride is the being master of a model farm. In the residence next most to be admired in Rayado, Kit Carson sometimes sojourns.

The mansion which belongs to Maxwell would be an ornament to any country. At one time, it was used as a garrison for American troops, and on it, the soldiers made many improvements. It is built one story high, in the shape of a hollow square, and has the size of an ordinary block in a city. Around the whole runs a fine veranda. With its lofty ceilings, large and airy rooms, and its fine yard in the centre of the square, which is well stored with its fowls, pigeons, and other pet animals, with appropriate kennels; with antlers of noble buck and elk; hams of venison, buffalo meat, wild turkeys, etc., and near by a fine vegetable garden; altogether, it presents a picture of sumptuous living rarely seen within the pale of civilization. Maxwell counts his steeds and cattle by hundreds, while his flocks of sheep are enumerated by thousands. Near by stands Kit Carson's ranche, which, though more modest, yet, when the hunter occupies it, in dead game and comfort, it fully rivals its compeer. Around these two hunters live a handful of Mexican friends, who are either engaged in agricultural pursuits for themselves, or else in the employ of the "lords of the manor," Carson and Maxwell.