Though each blow caused the recipient to recoil, yet he instantly returned, so that Carson was kept busy pounding the noses as if he was an old fashioned farmer threshing wheat with a flail.

It was a question with Carson which would last the longer—the club or the snouts, but in the hope of getting beyond their reach, he climbed to the topmost bough, where he crouched into the smallest possible space. It was idle, however, to hope they would overlook him, for they pushed on up the tree which swayed with their weight.

The nose of the grizzly bear is one of the most sensitive portions of his body, and the vigorous thumps which the hunter brought down upon them, brought tears of pain to their eyes. But while they suffered, they were roused to fury by the repeated rebuffs, and seemed all the more set on crunching the flesh and bones of the insignificant creature who defied them.

It must have been exasperating beyond imagination to the gigantic beasts, who feared neither man nor animal to find themselves repeatedly baffled by a miserable being whom they could rend to pieces with one blow of their paws, provided they could approach nigh enough to reach him.

They came up again and again; they would draw back so as to avoid those stinging strokes, sniff, growl and push upward, more eager than ever to clutch the poor fellow, who was compressing himself between the limb and the trunk, and raining his blows with the persistency of a pugilist.

They were finally forced to desist for a few minutes in order to give their snouts time to regain their tone. The bulky creatures looked at each other and seemed to say, "That's a mighty queer customer up there; he doesn't fight fairly, but we'll fetch him yet."

Once more and for the last time, they returned to the charge, but the plucky scout was awaiting them, and his club whizzed through the air like the piston rod of a steam engine. The grizzlies found it more than they could stand, and tumbling back to solid earth they gave up the contract in disgust. Carson tarried where he was until they were beyond sight, when he descended and hastily caught up and reloaded his rifle, having escaped, as he always declared, by the narrowest chance of all his life.



CHAPTER XI.

On the Green River—In the Blackfoot Country—The Blackfeet—An Unwelcome Visit—The Pursuit and Parley—Dissolution of the Peace Congress.

The day was drawing to a close when Carson set out for camp, which was not reached until after dark. His companions did not feel any special alarm over his continued absence, for the good reason that they were confident he could take care of himself no matter in what labyrinth of peril he might become involved.

It was too late to send for the carcass of the elk and more than likely it had already been devoured by wolves. So the trappers made their breakfast on one of the beavers found in their traps, and went into camp to await the arrival of the main body of trappers, which Carson was confident would come that way. Some days later they put in an appearance, and the company proceeded to the general rendezvous on Green River, where were found assembled the principal trappers of the Rocky Mountains. There were fully two hundred divided into two camps. What a history could have been written from the thrilling experiences of such a body of men!

They had gathered at the rendezvous to buy what supplies they needed and to dispose of their peltries. It was several weeks before the negotiations were over, when the assemblage broke up into smaller companies which started for their destinations hundreds of miles apart.

Carson joined a party numbering about fifty who intended to trap near the headwaters of the Missouri. Hundreds of beavers had been taken in that section, but poor success went with the large band of which Carson was a member. That was bad enough, but they were in a neighborhood which, it may be said, was the very heart of the Blackfoot country, and those hostiles were never more active and vigilant in their warfare against the invaders.

The Blackfeet or Satsika today, are the most westerly tribe of the Algonquin family of Indians, extending from the Hudson Bay to the Missouri and Yellowstone. They number over 12,000 warriors about equally divided between Montana and British America. They have always been a daring and warlike people, and the early explorers of the Far West probably met with more trouble from them than from any other tribe on the continent.

Carson and his companions ran in difficulty at once. The Blackfeet seemed to swarm through the woods, and sent in their treacherous shots from the most unexpected quarters. Whoever made the round of the traps in the morning was almost certain to be fired upon. Matters became so bad that after a time the trappers decided to leave the country. Accordingly they made their way to the Big Snake River where they went into quarters for the winter. Even there they were not safe from molestation at the hands of their old enemies the Blackfeet.

One night, when there was no moon or stars, a band of warriors stole into camp and ran off about twenty of the best horses. This outrage touched the hunters in the most sensitive part of their nature, and the truth no sooner became known than they unanimously agreed that the animals not only should be recovered but the audacious aggressors should be chastised.

Twelve men were selected for the most difficult and dangerous task and need we give the name of the youth who was made the leader?

With his usual promptness, Carson took the trail which was followed without trouble over the snow. The Blackfeet had reason to fear some such demonstration, and they hurried off with such speed that they were not overtaken until fifty miles from camp.

The situation was a novel one. The Indians had come to a halt and the horses were grazing on the side of a hill where the wind had blown away the snow. The Blackfeet had on snowshoes which gave them an advantage over the trappers. The latter galloped in the direction of their horses, the moment they caught sight of them. The Blackfeet fired at the trappers, who returned a scattering volley but no one was hurt on either side. Then followed skirmishing and manoeuvering for several minutes, without either party gaining advantage. Finally the Blackfeet asked for a parley to which the trappers assented.

In accordance with the usual custom, one of the Indians advanced to a point midway between the two parties and halted. At the same time, one of the trappers went forward, the rest of the whites and red men keeping their distance and watching them.

The Blackfoot opened business by what might be termed an apology which was no more genuine than many made by his civilized brethren under somewhat similar circumstances. He expressed great surprise to learn that the horses belonged to their good friends the trappers. They had supposed all along that they were the property of the Snake Indians whom the Blackfeet considered it their duty to despoil on every suitable occasion.

This glaring misrepresentation did not deceive the man who was acting as spokesman for his side. By way of reply, he asked that if such was the case, why had not the Blackfeet come forward on discovering their mistake, greeted their white brothers as friends and returned their property to them.

The replies were evasive and the hunters became convinced that the Indians were seeking to gain time for some sinister purpose; but a full parley having been agreed upon, both parties left their guns behind and advanced to where their representatives were holding their interview.

The Blackfeet still professed the most ardent friendship, and as an emphatic token of the same, produced the calumet and began smoking the pipe of peace. The tobacco having been lit, each took several whiffs and then passed it to his neighbor, who did the same until the round was completed. This solemn pledge of good will having been exchanged, the convention or peace congress was opened as may be said, in due and ancient form.

Carson and his companions were distrustful from the start, though it was hard for them to decide the meaning of the prolonged negotiations, since no one could see what the Blackfeet were to gain by such a course. They may have hoped to deceive the hunters and throw them off their guard, but, if such was the case, they failed.

First of all, the leading warriors indulged in several long speeches which were without point, but what was said in reply could admit of no doubt as to its meaning. The trappers understood the Blackfoot tongue well enough to make their responses models in the way of brevity and force. They said that it was idle to talk of friendship or peace until the stolen property was returned to its owners. The Indians still attempted to postpone or evade, but the complainants were in no mood for trifling and they repeated their declaration more positively than before.

The Blackfeet were much more numerous than the whites, and confident of their strength, began to bluster and to assert that whatever they did would be dictated by their own wishes and not by any fear of their visitors. Whether they desired to avoid a fight or not can only be conjectured, but they finally sent back to where the horses were tethered and caused five of the worst to be picked out and brought forward.

When the trappers inquired the meaning of this proceeding, the Indians said that it was the best they could do and the hunters must be content.

This last insult was the spark which exploded the magazine. Instantly every white man ran for his gun, and the Blackfeet did the same. A few seconds after they wheeled about and the sanguinary fight began.

Kit Carson and a companion were the first to obtain their guns and as a consequence they led the advance. Each selected a warrior who was partially hidden by the trunk of a tree. Carson was in the act of firing, when he observed that his friend was examining the lock of his gun all unmindful of the fact that one of the Blackfeet had levelled his weapon directly at his breast. On the instant, Kit changed his aim and shot the savage dead, thereby saving the life of his friend, who could not have escaped had the weapon of his adversary been discharged.



CHAPTER XII.

Carson Badly Wounded—A Drawn Battle—An Ineffectual Pursuit—The Summer Rendezvous—Carson's Duel.

This act of chivalry on the part of Carson simply transferred the peril of his friend to himself, for the Indian whom he had selected for his target was carefully sighting at him, at the very moment the gun was discharged. Kit saw what was coming and bounded to one side in the hope of dodging the bullet. Quick as he was, however, he did not entirely succeed, though the act doubtless saved his life. The ball from the rifle of his adversary grazed his neck and buried itself in his shoulder, shattering the head of one of the bones.

Carson though badly hurt, did not fall or retreat. On the contrary, he tried desperately to reload his gun, but found it impossible to raise his arm. He was hors de combat beyond all question, and bleeding so fast that his weakness compelled him to lie down on the ground while the conflict went on about him. The fight was very hot for a time, the result being what may be called a drawn battle, with the advantage inclining to the side of the Indians. The trappers fell back to the safest place that presented itself and went into camp. They dared not start a fire; for they knew it would bring an attack from the Indians, but wrapping their saddle blankets around them, they bore the intense cold as best they could.

The sufferings of Carson were great. His wounds continued bleeding and froze upon the dressings, which were of the most primitive character. And yet not once through those hours of anguish did he utter a word of complaint. Many a strong man would have cried out in his agony, but one might have sat within arm's length of the mountaineer without knowing he was hurt at all.

More than that, Carson took his part in the council which was held in the cold and darkness. The conclusion reached was that the party of trappers were not strong enough to pursue the Blackfeet, and the proper course to pursue was to rejoin the main body and report what had been done. It would then be time enough to decide upon their future action.

When this programme was carried out, a larger party of hunters under the lead of an experienced mountaineer resumed the pursuit; but nothing could be found of the savages. They had utilized the grace allowed them so well that it was impossible to overtake or trace them, and the indignant trappers were obliged to submit to their loss.

The severe cold moderated, and, as spring was close at hand the hunters pushed their trapping operations along the Green and Snake Rivers, meeting with unbounded success. They gathered more peltries than they had dared to hope for, and when warm weather approached, went into quarters where they remained until the following fall, a party of traders having brought them all the supplies they needed.

The rugged constitution of Carson and his temperate habits caused him speedily to recover from his severe wound. He again became the active, vigilant, keen witted guide and hunter who was looked up to by all as the most consummate master of woodcraft that had ever been known in the west.

Such a large party as were gathered at the summer rendezvous was certain to include many varieties of people. The frank, brave and open hearted, the sly and treacherous, the considerate and courteous, the quarrelsome and overbearing—indeed the temperaments of the individuals composing the company were as varied as it is possible to imagine.

Among them was a powerful Frenchman known as Captain Shunan. He had won his title by hard fighting, possessed a magnificent physique, was brave and skilled in the use of arms, and was the most quarrelsome individual in camp. It is impossible to picture a more irascible and disagreeable personage than Captain Shunan, who appeared to spend all his spare time in trying to provoke quarrels with those around him. Sometimes he succeeded, but more often his insolence was submitted to by men as brave as he, but who wished to avoid trouble with him.

The activity and strength of the Frenchman were so great that a skilful pugilist would have found difficulty in handling him. The only ground upon which he could be met with anything like fairness was where firearms were used.

On one of these occasions, the bully became unbearable in his behavior. He knocked down several weak and inoffensive persons, and swaggered back and forth through camp, boasting that he could trounce any one there. In the midst of his bluster, Carson walked up in front of him and said in a voice loud enough to be heard by those around:

"Captain Shunan, there are plenty here who can easily chastise you, but they prefer to submit to your impudence for the sake of peace: however, we have had enough and now I notify you to stop at once or I shall kill you!"

These were astounding words, and, as may be supposed, when uttered by a man six inches shorter and many pounds lighter than the blustering Captain, they fairly took away his breath. Carson spoke in his quiet, soft voice, as though there was not the least cause for excitement; but those who knew him, noted the flash of his clear, gray eye and understood his deadly earnestness.

Captain Shunan was infuriated by the words of Carson. As soon as he could recover himself, he turned about and without speaking a word, walked to his quarters. Kit did not need be told what that meant. He did the same, walking to his own lodge, from which he speedily emerged holding a single barrel pistol. He was so anxious to be on the ground in time, that he caught up the first weapon that presented itself.

Almost at the same moment, Captain Shunan appeared with his rifle. Carson observed him, and, though he could have secured without difficulty a similar weapon, he did not do so. He was willing to give his burly antagonist the advantage, if it should prove such. The other trappers as may be supposed, watched the actions of the two men with breathless interest. The quarrel had taken such a course that they were convinced that one or the other of the combatants would be killed. Captain Shunan had been so loud in his boasts that he did not dare swallow the insult, put on him by the fragile Kit Carson. Had he done so, he would have been hooted out of camp and probably lynched.

As for Kit, his courage was beyond suspicion. He feared no man and was sure to acquit himself creditably no matter in what circumstances he was placed. He was the most popular member of the large company, while his antagonist was the most detested; but the love of fair play was such that no one would interfere, no matter how great the need for doing so.

The duellists, as they may be called, mounted each his horse and circling about the plain, speedily headed toward each other and dashed forward on a dead run. As they approached, they reined up and halted face to face, within arm's length.

Looking his antagonist straight in the eye, Carson demanded:

"Are you looking for me?"

"Have you any business with me?"

"No," growled the savage Frenchman; but, while the words were in his mouth, brought his rifle to his shoulder, and, pointing it at the breast of Carson, pulled the trigger; but Kit expected some such treacherous act, and, before the gun could be fired, he threw up his pistol and discharged it as may be said, across the barrel of the leveled weapon.

The ball broke the forearm of Captain Shunan, at the very moment he discharged his gun. The shock diverted the aim so that the bullet grazed his scalp, inflicting a trifling wound; but the combatants were so close that the powder of the rifle scorched the face of the mountaineer.

Captain Shunan had been badly worsted, and was disabled for weeks afterward. He accepted his fate without complaint and was effectually cured of his overbearing manner toward his associates.



CHAPTER XIII.

On the Yellowstone—Repeated Disappointments—Carson Enters the Employ of a Hudson Bay Trader—Poor Success—A Trying Journey—Arrival at Fort Hall—The American Buffalo or Bison.

With the approach of cool weather, preparations were made for the fall hunt. When all was ready, the trappers headed for the Yellowstone, which was reached without mishap, and they immediately set their traps. The country as a rule, was a good one for those valuable animals, but the visitors were disappointed to learn they were unusually scarce.

When it became evident that it was useless to work on the Yellowstone, they gathered up their traps and made their way to the Big Horn, but, failing again, tried their fortunes on other rivers in that vicinity with no better results.

It was while engaged in this discouraging work that they met a trader belonging to the Hudson Bay Company. He had been pushing operations in every direction, but the stories he told were of the same general tenor as those of the larger party. He had been as unsuccessful in the way of trade as they had been in catching the fur bearing animals.

The Hudson Bay trader, however, was confident he could succeed where they had failed, and he made such liberal offers to Carson that he and several of his companions accepted them on the spot.

The first point which they visited was the Humboldt River, from which had come reports of the abundance of beavers. They began near the head waters of the stream, and carefully trapped down to the Great Basin. Meeting with only moderate success, they made their way to Big Snake River. After remaining there a considerable time, the party divided, the Hudson Bay trader and his friends going northward toward Fort Walla Walla, while Carson and the larger number set out for Fort Hall.

The journey thither was one of the most distressing which Kit Carson ever undertook. The country through which most of the march led is one of the most dismal wastes on the American continent. Except in extent, a journey across it is similar to that of the parched caravans across the flaming sands of Sahara. Carson and his companions were accustomed to all manner of privations, but more than once their endurance was tried to the utmost point.

The trappers had gathered some nutritious roots upon which they managed to subsist for a time, but these soon gave out, and their situation grew desperate. When almost famishing they bled their mules and drank the warm current. They would have killed one of the animals, but for the fact that they could not spare it, and, as there was no calculating how long the others would last, they were afraid to take the step, which was likely to cripple them fatally.

This strange source of nourishment served them for the time, but a repetition would endanger the lives of their animals, who were also in sore straits, inasmuch as the grass was not only poor but very scanty. Matters rapidly grew worse, and soon became so desperate that Carson said they would have to kill one of their animals or else lie down and perish themselves.

At this trying crisis, they discovered a band of Indians approaching. Perhaps the hapless situation in which all were placed left no room for enmity, for the red men showed a friendly disposition. The high hopes of Carson and his friends were chilled when it was found that the Indians were in about as bad a plight as themselves. They had barely a mouthful of food among them, and, when besought to barter with the whites, they shook their heads. They had nothing to trade, and, while they felt no hostility toward the suffering trappers, they gave them to understand they could not afford any help at all.

But Carson had fixed his eyes on a plump old horse, and never did a shrewd New Englander apply himself more persistently to secure a prize than did he. Kit's companions put forth all their powers of persuasion, but in vain, and they advised Carson that he was throwing away his efforts in attempting the impossible.

But Carson succeeded, and when the equine was slaughtered and broiled, the trappers enjoyed one of the most delicious feasts of their lives. They filled themselves to repletion and felt that the enjoyment it brought was almost worth the suffering they had undergone to obtain it.

When their strength was recruited, they resumed their journey and a few days later reached Fort Hall. There they found abundance of food and received a cordial welcome. In a brief while they were as strong as ever and eager for any new enterprise.

Hundreds of bisons were in the neighborhood of the fort and Carson and his friends slew them by the score. Indeed they kept the post well supplied with fresh meet as long as they remained there.

The animal almost universally known as the "buffalo" is miscalled, his correct name being the "bison," of which there are droves numbering, it is said, as high as a hundred thousand. The flesh is held in high repute by hunters, and not only is nourishing but possesses the valuable quality of not cloying the appetite. The most delicate portion of the animal is the hump which gives the peculiar appearance to his back. That and the tongue and marrow bones are frequently the only portions made use of by the hunter.

The hide answers many useful purposes. All know how much a "buffalo robe" is appreciated in wintry weather by those exposed to cold. It serves to form the Indian's tents, his bed, parts of his dress and is sometimes made into a shield which will turn aside a rifle ball that does not strike it fairly.

Hundreds of thousands of bisons are killed annually—myriads of them in pure wantonness—and yet enormous droves may be encountered today in many portions of the west, where it is hard for the experienced hunters to detect any decrease in their numbers.

Some of the methods employed to slay bisons are cruel in the extreme. Many a time a large herd has been stampeded in the direction of some precipice. When the leaders found themselves on the edge, they have endeavored to recoil; but there was no stemming the tide behind them. The terrified animals literally pushed the leaders over the rocks and then tumbled upon them. In a little while the gully or stream would be choked with the furiously struggling creatures and hundreds would be killed within a few minutes.

The bison is as fond as the hog of wallowing in mud. When he comes upon a marshy spot he lies down and rolls about until he has worn out a large and shallow excavation into which the water oozes through the damp soil. Lying down again he rolls and turns until he is plastered from head to tail with mud. Though it cannot be said that it adds to his attractiveness, yet the coating no doubt serves well as a protection against the swarms of insects, which are sometimes terrible enough to sting animals to death.

Those who have viewed the scraggy specimens in the menageries and zoological gardens would scarcely suspect the activity and power of running possessed by them. The body is covered with such an abundance of hair that it looks larger than it really is, while the legs appear smaller. But the bison not only can run swiftly, but possesses great endurance. They will often dash at full speed over ground so rough that the more graceful horse will stumble.

When wounded by the hunters, a bull will sometimes turn in desperation on his persecutor. Then, unless the horse is well trained, serious consequences are likely to follow. The plunging thrust of his stumpy horns perhaps rips open the steed, sending the rider flying over the back of the furious bison, who may turn upon him and slay him before he can escape.

This rarely happens, however, the bison being a huge, cowardly creature which prefers to run rather than fight, and a hunt of the game in these days often takes the character of wholesale butchery in which no true sportsman would engage.



CHAPTER XIV.

A Strange Occurrence—Arrival of Friends—Carson Joins a Large Company—Trapping on the Yellowstone—The Blackfeet—A Dreadful Scourge—In Winter Quarters—The Friendly Crow Indians—Loss of Two Trappers—On the Head Waters of the Missouri.

A singular occurrence took place a few nights after the return of Carson and his friends from an extended bison hunt. Their horses and mules were corralled near the post and a sentinel was on duty at all hours of the night to prevent the animals being stolen by the Indians who were always prowling through the neighborhood.

In the dim uncertain light, just beyond midnight, the sentinel saw two men walk forward from the darkness, and without any appearance of haste, let down the bars and drive out the stock. Very naturally he concluded they were his friends who intended to take out the animals to graze. As there was nothing more for him to do, he sought his quarters, lay down and went to sleep.

In the morning not a horse or a mule was to be found. The two individuals who had let down the bars and driven them out, were Blackfeet Indians, whose complete success was due to their amazing audacity. Had they shown any hesitation or haste, the suspicions of the sentinel would have been aroused, but when the truth became known, he was the most astonished man at the fort.

The hunters were in a most sorry plight, for the Blackfeet having made a clean sweep, they were without the means of pursuing and recovering their property. The parties who belonged at the fort had suffered a somewhat similar trick a short time before from the same tribe, so that only a few rickety horses remained in their possession.

Under the circumstances, the trappers were compelled to accept their misfortune with grim philosophy, and await the arrival of the rest of the party, who had promised to rejoin them after completing their business at Fort Walla Walla.

Sure enough, a few weeks later, their friends appeared and providentially indeed they brought with them an extra supply of excellent horses. The trappers were in overflowing spirits once more and soon started for the general rendezvous on Green River.

Other trappers continued to arrive for a number of days, until about all that were expected had come in. Trade and barter then began and lasted some three weeks. The scene was picturesque and stirring and there was much hand shaking and pleasant wishes when the time came to separate.

Kit Carson left the employ of the Hudson Bay Company trader and attached himself to a party numbering fully a hundred who had determined to trap along the Yellowstone. It will be recalled that Carson once quit a company of trappers because it was too large, and it may be wondered why he should join one that was still more numerous. The reason he did so was because they were going into the very heart of the Blackfoot country. They had suffered so much from these daring marauders that they knew there would be no safety unless they went in strong force. Furthermore, the whites had so many old scores to settle with those redskins that they meant to invite attack from them. If the Blackfeet would only offer the opportunity for battle, the trappers meant to give them their fill.

The formidable company arranged matters according to a system. Dividing into two equal parties, the duty of one was made to trap beaver, while the other furnished food and guarded the property. By this means, they would always be in shape to meet their sworn foes, while the real business which brought them into the country would not be neglected.

The hunters were confident they would not be left alone very long. The Blackfeet would resent the invasion of their hunting grounds, and to say the least, would take measures to prevent the time hanging heavily on the hands of the pale faces.

But, to the astonishment of the trappers, the days passed without bringing a glimpse of the savages. No hostile shot awoke the impressive stillness of the wilderness. Could it be the Blackfeet were seeking to throw the whites off their guard? Did they expect to induce a degree of carelessness that would enable the Blackfeet to gather their warriors and overwhelm them before they could reply?

It was not reasonable to suppose that the sagacious tribe held any such belief, for they could not have failed to know that any such hope was idle.

But the explanation came one day by a party of friendly Crow Indians, who stated that the small pox was raging with such awful virulence among the Blackfeet that they were dying by hundreds and thousands. Indeed, the havoc was so dreadful that there was reason to believe the whole tribe would be swept away.

It would not be the first time that such an annihilation has taken place among the American Indians. The treatment required by that frightful disease is precisely the opposite of that which the red man in his ignorance pursues. When small pox breaks out among them, therefore, the mortality becomes appalling.

The Crow Indians affiliated with the trappers and guided them to a secluded valley, where they established themselves for the winter. The lodges were made strong and substantial, and it was fortunate that such precautions were taken, for the winter proved one of the severest known for many years. With their abundance of fuel, they kept enormous fires going and passed the days and nights in comparative comfort.

But it was far different with their stock. During the severe weather, the only food that could be obtained was the bark of the cottonwood. The inner lining of this is quite palatable to animals and in cases of extremity it affords temporary sustenance to men. With its help actual starvation was kept away, though it came very close.

Unusual weather always brings unusual experience, and the intense cold developed an annoyance to the trappers upon which they had not counted. The difficulty of finding food was felt by the wild animals as well as domestic, and the bisons became desperate. When they saw the horses eating their fodder, they rushed forward and with lowered heads drove them away. If a horse or mule refused, he was likely to be gored to death.

The beasts finally became so numerous and fierce they would have killed all the stock of our friends if they had not kindled large fires and mounted constant guard. When the weather moderated those annoyances ended.

Had any explorer of the west found his way to the secluded valley where the trappers were in winter quarters, he would have looked upon a striking scene. The Crow Indians and white men engaged in numerous athletic sports in friendly rivalry. They maintained the best of terms, and when the bisons departed, the strange community enjoyed themselves far better than would be supposed. In truth where they were favored with such rugged health and where they had plenty of food and comfortable quarters, it would have been remarkable had they not been comparatively happy. They were not disturbed by political discussions or diversity of views on any public questions and were satisfied that the glorious Union was safe without any worriment on their part.

When spring came, two of their party were sent to Fort Laramie to procure needed supplies. They went off well mounted and armed and were never heard of again. Somewhere in the recesses of the forest or mountain, the Blackfeet had probably killed them as they had done with many a brave man before, and as they have done with multitudes since.

When it became certain the messengers had been slain, the company began the spring hunt without them. After trapping a brief while on the Yellowstone, they worked their way to the head waters of the Missouri. They met with fair success and while engaged in that section, learned that the reports of the ravages of the small pox among the Blackfeet had been greatly exaggerated. Instead of being decimated, the tribe had not suffered to any serious extent and were as strong and aggressive as ever.

The trappers were not displeased to learn that such was the case, for they desired a settlement of accounts with them. Under such circumstances it was impossible that hostilities should be long delayed.



CHAPTER XV.

A Fierce Battle with the Blackfeet—Daring Act of Kit Carson—Arrival of the Reserves and End of the Battle.

When near the head waters of the Missouri, the trappers discovered they were approaching the principal village of the Blackfeet. They determined to attack and punish the Indians who had caused them so much trouble and suffering; but the whites were so numerous and powerful that extreme care was necessary to prevent their presence becoming known.

When a number of miles from the village, the trappers came to a halt, and Kit Carson with several men was sent forward to reconnoitre. With extreme caution they made their way to a point from which they could overlook the village.

A glance showed the Indians hurriedly making ready to move elsewhere. The shrewd red men had discovered their danger before their enemies caught sight of them. Carson galloped back as rapidly as he could, and made known what had been seen. A council was hastily called and about half the company advanced to give the Blackfeet battle. Kit Carson, as might be supposed, was made the leader. The others were to guard the property, advance slowly and act as reserve, which could be hurried forward should it become necessary.

As agreed upon, Kit Carson galloped ahead, and the moment his men came in sight of the village, they dashed through it, killing a number of warriors. The others slowly fell back, fighting as they went, and without showing the least panic. They received charge after charge of the white men, with the steadiness of veterans. By and by the eagerness of the trappers reduced their ammunition and their firing became less destructive. The Blackfeet were quick to perceive the cause, and in turn they charged upon their assailants who became immediately involved in a desperate hand to hand fight. It was then the small arms in the possession of the whites played their part. They were used with such effect, that the fierce warriors were compelled once more to retreat.

But the courageous red men recoiled a short distance only, when they halted and then, with exultant yells, dashed toward the trappers, who despite all they could do, were forced back until it looked as if the whole party would be overwhelmed and destroyed.

On this retreat, one of the horses belonging to the hunters was shot, and plunged to the ground so suddenly that his rider was caught before he could spring from the saddle. Several of the warriors were quick to perceive his sore straits, and dashed toward him, eager to secure his scalp. The poor fellow struggled desperately, but could not extricate himself, and his expression of horrified despair when he perceived the fierce red men running a race with each other to reach him, would have melted the heart of almost any one.

Carson was several rods distant, but seeing the danger of his friend, he bounded out of his saddle, and shouted to the others to rally to the defence of their imperilled comrade. Kit raised his rifle while on the run and shot the leading warrior dead. The other whites were so close behind that the remaining Blackfeet whirled and ran for their lives. Several of them were shot down before they could reach the shelter of the rocks from behind which they sprang after the fallen white man.

Carson's devotion to his friend now placed him in an unpleasant if not dangerous situation. His steed being without restraint, galloped off beyond his reach, and the commander was thus left on foot, when there was urgent need that he should be mounted.

Meanwhile the mountaineer who was caught under the body of his horse, was struggling desperately to withdraw his imprisoned leg, for there was no saying when the Blackfeet would be upon him again. He succeeded at last, and, standing upon his feet, shook himself together, as may be said, and he found that though pretty badly bruised, no bones were broken, and he was able to do his full part in the serious duty before him.

The exciting episode benefited the trappers in one respect: it served to check the seemingly resistless rush of the Blackfeet and gave the others a chance to rally and fix upon some course of action.

Carson ran rapidly toward the nearest horseman and sprang upon the back of his animal behind him. The steed was forced to his best and speedily joined the main body a short distance off. It was fortunate that just at that moment there came a lull in the furious fighting, else Carson could scarcely have escaped so well. The runaway horse was pursued by one of the mountaineers who finally cornered and brought him back to their leader.

The Blackfeet did not follow the whites, nor did the latter return to their charge against them. Both parties had gained a thorough taste of each other's mettle, and the conclusion reached was like that of two trained pugilists—their strength was so nearly equal that neither could afford to throw away his advantage by leading in the assault.

Undoubtedly Carson and his men would have withdrawn but for the hope that the reserves were close at hand. The trappers had fought valiantly but not more so than the Indians, who still possessed plenty ammunition while that of the whites was nearly exhausted. Had they advanced and encountered the warriors again, the latter would have swept everything before them. As it was, the mountaineers were by no means safe even when acting on the defensive. If the red men should charge upon them with their old time fierceness, it was by no means certain they would not destroy the whites. The fight would necessarily be of the most sanguinary nature, but when guns and small arms were useless for lack of ammunition, nothing short of a miracle could save them from annihilation.

Several hours had gone and Carson and his men wondered what could delay the reserves. Time always passes slowly to those in waiting, and to some of the hunters the tardiness of their friends was unaccountable. Carson was on the point of sending messengers back to hurry them forward, when the whole party appeared and the situation changed.

But those who expected the Blackfeet to flee in panic when they observed the doubling of the assailing forces, were much mistaken. The feeling among the Indians could not be described as in the least "panicky." They quietly surveyed the new arrivals and prepared with the coolness of veterans for the conflict that was sure to come, within the next few minutes.

The powder was distributed among the trappers, who were more eager than ever to attack their old enemies, who were as ready as they for the conflict. Nearly two hundred yards separated the combatants, when the mountaineers, leaving their horses behind, advanced on foot. The Blackfeet stationed themselves behind rocks and trees and defiantly awaited the attack.

In a few minutes the most savage fight of the day was raging. A hundred rifles were flashing in every direction and the yells of the red men mingled with the shouts of the excited mountaineers.

As the warriors had used every means to shelter themselves, it was necessary to dislodge them before they could be driven back. Without remaining together in a compact mass, the trappers made for them with the fierceness of tigers.

The result of this charge were a number of remarkable combats. A hunter would dash at a warrior crouching behind some rock, and the two would begin dodging, advancing, retreating, firing, striking and manoeuvering against each other. Sometimes one would succeed and sometimes the other. The Blackfoot, finding the situation becoming too hot, would break for other cover and probably would be shot on the run or would escape altogether. Again, it would be the white man who would be just a second too late in discharging his gun and would pay the penalty with his life.

At last the Indians began falling back and the mountaineers pushing them hard, they finally broke and fled in a wild panic, leaving many dead behind them. On the part of the trappers three had been killed and quite a number badly wounded.



CHAPTER XVI.

At Brown's Hole—Trading in the Navajoe Country—Carson Serves as Hunter at Brown's Hole—Trapping in the Black Hills—On the Yellowstone—Fight with the Blackfeet—Their Retreat to an Island—Their Flight During the Night—An Imposing Array of Warriors.

The fight between the Blackfeet and trappers was one of the most important in which Kit Carson, previous to the late war, was ever engaged. The forces must have included several hundred, and the lesson administered to the aggressive red men was remembered by them a long time.

After burying their dead, looking after the wounded and setting matters to rights, the hunters resumed trapping through the Blackfoot country. They were scarcely disturbed by their old enemies who dreaded rousing the resentment of such a formidable body of daring and unerring marksmen.

Our friends were very successful, and, when they made their way to the rendezvous, a week's journey away, they carried with them an immense stock of peltries. When the trading was finished, the parties made new combinations and departed in different directions. Instead of attaching himself to a large company, Kit Carson and seven choice spirits started for a trading post known at that time as Brown's Hole. They reached there just in time for the leader to join an expedition, numbering only two beside himself, which went into the Navajoe country for purposes of barter. The venture proved a great success and Carson drifted back again to Brown's Hole. There such liberal offers were made him to serve as hunter for the fort, that he accepted and entered upon his rather singular, but exceedingly congenial duties.

These, as the reader must know, simply consisted of keeping the garrison supplied with all the meat they needed. Though the country was noted for its fine game, it required much time, skill and patience for Carson to make sure that none of the vigorous appetites at the post suffered. No one could have done better and very few as well as he. When spring came, and he gave up his position, he was complimented by those whom he left behind on the admirable manner in which he had met all requirements.

During those years there was much similarity in the life and experience of Kit Carson. He had become known all through the west and southwest as the most daring, sagacious and brilliant leader in that country. His services were in demand wherever he went, and as he was in the enjoyment of perfect health, overrunning with life and activity, he made money rapidly and showed his wisdom by laying aside a respectable sum for a rainy day.

In the spring following his engagement at Brown's Hole, he went with a small party to the Black Hills, where they were quite successful in hunting. Later in the summer they joined the main body of trappers on Green River. All meeting at the general rendezvous on a branch of the Wind River. Still later, the majority of the trappers went into winter quarters on the Yellowstone. They were again in the country of their bitter enemies, the Blackfeet, and were certain of a fight with them; but several months passed without molestation.

One day, however, several of the trappers who were making the rounds of the traps, came upon signs which showed they were close to a strong force of the Blackfeet. The men lost no time in hurrying back to camp with the news, where it was agreed that trouble was at hand.

Forty men were selected at once to hunt out the Indians and engage them in battle. It goes without saying, that Kit Carson was made the leader and there was not a moment's unnecessary delay in starting out to find the enemy.

They were successful in their search. They suddenly found themselves in the presence of a scouting party, who were undoubtedly looking for them; but perceiving the strength of the whites, they began retreating. Carson and his men pressed them hotly, when, as anticipated, they fell back on the main body and one of the old fashioned battles between trappers and Indians began.

The Blackfeet always fight bravely, and, for a time, they held their ground well, but they were forced to give way and retired to a small island in the Yellowstone, where they had thrown up rude fortifications and felt able to hold their own against a much superior force.

Darkness closed in upon the contending forces, and the assailants ceased firing and encamped for the night on the bank of the river. They were on the qui vive through the still hours, and so eager for the attack that with the earliest streakings of light in the east, they plunged into the stream and made for the barricades. It was not to be supposed that the Blackfeet would be taken off their guard, and the trappers expected to reach the defences through a hot fusillade from the dusky defenders.

To their surprise, however, not a single gun was discharged and they rushed pell mell over the rugged fortifications to engage the enemy in hand to hand conflict. To their chagrin, however, not a solitary Blackfoot was visible. Despite the watchfulness of the white men, the entire Indian force had withdrawn during the night without arousing the least suspicion on the part of the watchers.

But the trappers were too wise to misconstrue the action of the Blackfeet. Their withdrawal was a strategic movement, and did not by any means signify they were afraid of the large force or that they would prefer not to molest them. The signs around the fortifications showed that the Indians had suffered severely and they would never content themselves until full retaliation had been made.

The trappers returned to camp, where a long council was held. The conclusion was that the Blackfoot village was near by, and when they learned of the severe punishment received by the scouting party, they would lose no time in entering upon a campaign of revenge. As the Blackfeet nation included several thousand warriors, there was reason to fear they would overwhelm the trappers, despite their bravery and skill. Barricades were thrown up and the best men stationed as sentinels. One of them hastened to the top of an adjoining hill, which commanded an extensive view of the surrounding country.

The sentinel had been in position but a short time when he signalled to his friends the approach of a large body of Indians. The hunters immediately began strengthening their defences, and before the redskin arrived, they had rendered their position almost impregnable against any force that could be gathered in the country.

As the Blackfeet approached, the sentinel hurried down from the hill and joined the main body. Shortly after, the advance party of Blackfeet came in sight and made a reconnaissance which apprised them of the nature of the defences. They did not fire a shot but waited until the arrival of the main band.

When that came in sight, it was enough to strike dismay into every heart. There were few if any less than a thousand warriors. Dr. Peters, the biographer of Carson, says:

"It was a sight which few white men of the American nation have looked upon. Arrayed in their fantastic war costume and bedaubed with paint, armed with lances, bows and arrows, rifles, tomahawks, knives, etc., some mounted and some on foot, they presented a wild and fearful scene of barbaric fancy.

"Soon after their last company had reported, the frightful war dance, peculiar to the American savages, was enacted in sight of the trappers' position. The battle songs and shouts which accompanied the dance reached the ears of the whites with fearful distinctness. Any other than hearts of oak with courage of steel would have quailed before this terrible display of savage enmity and ferocity. This dance, to men well skilled in the ways of the Indian warrior, was a sure signal that the next day would be certain to have a fearful history for one party or the other and doubtless for both. The odds, most assuredly, were apparently greatly in favor of the savage host and against the little band of hardy mountaineers."



CHAPTER XVII.

The Morrow—Withdrawal of the Indian Army—At Fort Hall—In the Blackfoot Country—The Ambush—The Trappers Decide to Withdraw—Trapping in Other Localities—Carson Decides to Abandon the Business—Visits Bent's Fort Where He Serves as Hunter for Eight Years.

Having gone through what the red men consider the necessary preliminaries of such a grand campaign, the vast number of warriors awaited the dawn that was to witness the annihilation of the entire force that had dared to venture upon their hunting grounds without so much as asking permission.

It was scarcely light when the imposing array advanced upon the mountaineers, who coolly awaited their approach. When the Blackfeet came close enough to see the fortifications thrown up by the whites, they were astonished. They knew from previous experience the strength of such means of defence and suddenly lost their eagerness to make the attack.

After a full survey of the work before them, they concluded the task was beyond accomplishment. The magnificent force, therefore, began withdrawing. It was the turn of the trappers to feel disappointed. They had not thought of any such issue and were enraged. They shouted and made tantalizing gestures to the Blackfeet, in the hope of goading them to stand their ground, but they were too wise to do so. They retreated to a safe point where a council of war was held. It was not to be expected that after such an abrupt withdrawal, they could summon enough courage to make the assault.

When the conference was over, the Indian army, as it may be called, broke into two divisions, one of which went back toward their own village while the other set their faces toward the Crow country. Uncertain whether they would not reappear when they believed there was hope of surprising the mountaineers, the latter maintained their vigilance day and night.

It may have been that the red men made several reconnaissances, but, if so, they concluded it would be imprudent to attack the mountaineers who held their position and continued trapping as opportunity presented through the winter.

After trapping in various localities, Kit Carson and several friends visited Fort Hall, where they joined a party in the employ of the Northwest Fur Company. They trapped around the head of Salmon River and other streams, and finally returned to Fort Hall, where the peltries were sold for a fair valuation. Then Carson and a few others set out to join a party which he knew was trapping in the Blackfoot country. Upon coming up with them, he was told that they had had several sharp skirmishes with the Indians, in one of which a trapper was severely wounded. The following morning, Carson and his comrades parted from the rest and were trapping slowly up stream, when they were fired upon by Blackfeet and compelled to retreat. They hurried back and succeeded in escaping a serious danger; but the pursuit was so close that Carson hastily stationed his men in ambush. A hot fire dropped several of the warriors and caused the others to hesitate.

The halt was just long enough to allow the trappers to reload their pieces, when the Blackfeet made a fiercer rush than before; but with that pertinacious courage for which the tribe is noted, they kept up the fight through the rest of the day, determined to throw away no advantage they might gain. Had Carson chosen his position with less judgment, he and his command must have been overwhelmed, for nothing could have exceeded the daring of their assailants, who in their desperation set fire to the thicket in which the mountaineers had ensconced themselves; but the shrubbery was too green to burn well, and, after a little while, it died out. Then it must have been the red men concluded it was useless to strive further, and, learning that the main body of the trappers were not far off, they departed.

The annoyance from these Indians was so great that it was decided to leave the country. While the trappers were able to hold their own against them, yet it was impossible to make much progress in taking furs, when their attention was mainly taken up in fighting the warriors, who varied their shooting by destroying the traps that were set for the beavers.

The next scene of operations was the North Fork of the Missouri where they had been engaged only a short time when they came upon an extensive village of Flathead Indians. These showed their friendliness to the trappers by sending one of their chiefs and a number of warriors who helped them hunt along the different streams.

The following spring Carson and a single companion set their traps in the vicinity of Big Snake River. This was the country of the Utah Indians, who were well disposed towards the whites. Thus, while furs were plenty, the couple were enabled to devote their whole time to taking them, without fear of being fired upon every time they ventured out of sight of camp. As a consequence, they succeeded beyond their own expectations, and, making their way to the nearest post, sold the stock for a fair sum.

The peltries were scarcely disposed of, when Carson organized another expedition which visited the Grand River, over which they trapped until winter, when they returned to Brown's Hole, where Carson remained until spring. Then he trapped once more in the land of the Utahs and at New Park, taking their furs to the post where he was obliged to sell them for a much less sum than he had ever received before.

The transaction had an important bearing on the fortunes of Kit Carson, for it was proof of an unpleasant truth that had been forcing itself for a number of months upon him: the days of remunerative trapping were ended.

For years, the demand had been growing steadily less both in Europe and America. The ingenuity of the manufacturer showed itself in the make of cheaper substitutes, while the beavers that had been hunted so persistently were becoming scarce: there were few regions in which trapping could be pursued with any success.

Nothing could be plainer, therefore, to Carson than the fact that he must soon give up the business and engage in something else to gain a livelihood. What should it be?

Carson and several veteran trappers started for Bent's Fort, located on the Arkansas, near an immense forest of cottonwoods, known as the Big Timbers. Messrs. Bent and St. Vrain, the proprietors, no sooner learned that Carson contemplated a change of occupation, than they offered him the position of hunter for the fort, his duties being to keep it supplied with all the game that was required.

Carson was more willing to accept the offer than he would have been under other circumstances. He agreed that the large number of men should never want for animal food, and, having given his promise, he kept it most faithfully for a period of eight years.

This statement includes a great deal, for it means that his wonderful rifle brought down thousands of deer, antelope, elk and bisons; that he tramped over hundreds of leagues of wilderness; that his splendid health never failed him, and that his knowledge of the woods and its inhabitants was as full and complete as it could be.

Furthermore, it is stated by Dr. Peters, that during that entire period, not a single impatient word passed between Carson and his employers. He attended to his duties with such regularity, promptness and skill that the only comments they could make on his work were in the nature of strong compliments.

Inasmuch as we have claimed that Carson was the superior in every respect of those with whom he was associated, we must dwell for a moment on this fact. Let the reader ask himself how many cases he knows where the term of service has been so long, in which not a single unkind word has passed between employer and employee.

His occupation as hunter was not monotonous, for where there were so many to provide for, difficult and dangerous work was required and the journeys which he often made through the long stretches of wilderness were sometimes attended with much personal danger.

But the surrounding tribes, including the Arapahoes, Kiowas, Cheyennes, Comanches and others, looked upon the great hunter with affectionate admiration and no guest was more welcome and honored in their lodges than he.



CHAPTER XVIII.

Carson Visits his Old Home in Missouri—He Goes to St. Louis—Voyage up the Missouri—Makes the Acquaintance of Lieutenant John C. Fremont—Is engaged as a Guide for Fremont's First Expedition—The Start Westward—Various Mishaps—The Emigrants—The False Alarm.

Kit Carson had left his home in Missouri when only a boy and he was now in the prime of a vigorous young manhood. The years since he turned his back upon his old home had been busy and eventful ones and now, as is often the case with those placed as was he, he longed to visit the scenes of his childhood, and to meet and shake the hands of those of his old friends who were still among the living.

In the spring of 1842, Carson went eastward with a train of wagons, carrying goods to the States. When the borders of Missouri were reached, he bade his companions goodbye and made his way back to his old home. His experience was touching. His parents were dead, the old building which would ever linger in his memory, had tumbled down and nearly every one whom he met was a stranger. The cheeks of the hardy mountaineer were wet with tears, and with a sigh, he turned his face away forever.

Carson had never seen a large city, and he made his way to St. Louis, where he spent more than a week in sight seeing. Before the end of that time, the old yearning for the mountains, prairies and streams of the West came back to him, and he engaged passage on a steamer up the Missouri.

On the same boat John C. Fremont was a passenger. He was two years younger than Carson and had been commissioned Second Lieutenant in the Corps of Topographical Engineers, in 1838. Four years later he projected a geographical survey of the entire territory of the United States from the Missouri River to the Pacific.

Carson was attracted by the fine, manly and intellectual appearance of Fremont, and, learning he was in search of a skilful mountaineer, he introduced himself, referring in a modest fashion to his experience in the west and expressing the belief that he could be of service to the explorer.

Fremont was an excellent judge of character and was favorably impressed with Carson from the first. The answers to the inquiries which he made concerning the famous guide and mountaineer, were satisfactory in the highest degree. He engaged Carson as his guide, agreeing to pay him a salary of one hundred dollars a month.

The party of explorers were mainly gathered in St. Louis. It was composed mostly of Creole and Canadian voyageurs, Charles Preuss, a learned German, a young son of Colonel Benton (which statesman was the father in law of Fremont), several other friends, including a noted mountaineer named Maxwell, who was employed as the hunter of the party. Including the commander, the entire company numbered twenty-eight.

With this party of explorers Fremont ascended the Missouri until the mouth of the Kansas was reached, when they disembarked and made their preparations for the long and dangerous journey before them. The march westward began June 10, 1842.

The course lay along the banks of the Kansas. All the party were well armed and well mounted, excepting eight men, each of whom drove a cart, drawn by two mules. These carts contained the stores, baggage and instruments of the expedition. A number of spare horses were taken along, so as to provide against loss in that respect. In addition, they had four oxen intended to serve as a reserve in the event of provisions running short.

It was the custom to arouse the camp at daybreak and turn out the animals to graze; breakfast followed and the march was begun. The noon halt lasted from one to two hours and the afternoon's march ended a short time before sunset. The tents were then pitched, horses hobbled and turned out to graze, and the evening meal prepared. When it became dark, all the animals were brought in and picketed, the carts arranged so as to serve as barricades and guard mounted.

An Indian guide conducted the expedition for the first forty miles along the Kansas, when he departed and the responsibility was turned over to Carson. The pilot had guided the steamer out of the harbor and upon the great ocean, and henceforth the hand of Carson was to be at the helm.

The soil over which they journeyed for many miles was of the most fertile character. Numbers of Indian farms were seen, and one could not but reflect on the possibilities of the future for the red man, who should abandon war and give his energies to the cultivation of the ground.

Such an expedition could not go far without a taste of the trials that awaited them. On the second night, the four spare horses seemed to become disgusted with the whole enterprise, and turning their heads eastward started on a rapid gallop for the States. Their loss was too serious to be borne, and a number of men were dispatched in pursuit. The chase was a long one and the animals were not recovered for several hours. One of the men lost his way and was forced to spend the night on the open prairie. At midnight it began to rain, and then the exceedingly unpleasant discovery was made that the tents on which the explorers relied for protection and shelter were so thin that they were drenched as if the water came through a sieve.

The morning, however, brought clear weather and bright sunlight, and all were in high spirits. The scenery for a time was of a pleasing and picturesque character, and they pushed contentedly forward, until they arrived at the ford of the Kansas, one hundred miles from the point where it emptied into the Missouri.

The stream was found so swollen from recent rains that it could not be forded. Accordingly several of the mounted men forced their animals into the stream and swam them across to serve as guides for the rest. They succeeded quite well, excepting the oxen, which, after floundering awhile, landed on the same side from which they started. The following morning they succeeded in crossing.

Among the useful articles with which Fremont had provided himself, was an India rubber boat, twenty feet long and five feet wide. This was very buoyant and the carts and baggage were carried over piecemeal in it, with the exception of the last two carts. Laden with these the boat left the shore but had not gone far when the man at the helm, who was exceedingly nervous, managed to capsize the craft, with all its precious cargo. The hunters were so dismayed over the prospect of losing their stores that nearly all plunged into the stream and made frantic efforts to save what they could. Several did not stop to remember that they could not swim, so that the principal efforts of some of the others were directed to saving them.

Most of the goods were recovered, but nearly all the sugar dissolved and every grain of coffee was lost. It would be hard to imagine any deprivation greater than that to which this misfortune condemned the explorers. Carson and one of the others made such strenuous efforts in the water that they were ill the next day, and Fremont remained in camp for twenty-four hours with a view of giving them time to recruit.

The journey westward progressed without any special incident. A large party of emigrants on their way to Oregon were several weeks in advance of the explorers. Bad fortune seemed to have followed them from the start, and numerous freshly made graves were seen. One of the emigrants who had been peculiarly unfortunate, came into camp with a hunter on his way home. He took charge of the letters which the explorers desired to send to their families.

The party soon reached the Pawnee country where they were forced to unusual vigilance, for those Indians have long been noted as most persistent horse thieves. Game was abundant. Large flocks of wild turkeys were found roosting in the trees along the streams; elk, antelope and deer were plentiful, and as for bisons, they were beyond all computation.

One day a member of the company happened to be riding at the rear galloped up in hot haste, shouting, "Indians!" He declared that he had seen them distinctly and counted twenty-seven. An immediate halt was called, and Carson, leaping on one of the fleetest horses, crossed the river and galloped over the prairie.

"Mounted on a fine horse without a saddle," says Fremont, "and scouring, bareheaded, over the prairies, Kit was one of the finest pictures of a horseman I have ever seen. He soon returned quite leisurely, and informed them that the party of twenty-seven Indians had resolved itself into a herd of six elk who, having discovered us, had scampered off at full speed."



CHAPTER XIX.

On the Platte—A False Alarm—The Cheyennes—Fremont's Account of his Buffalo Hunt—Division of the Party—Fremont's Journey up the South Fork—The Band of Indians—Arrival at St. Vrain's Fort—The Journey to Fort Laramie.

Fremont and his party, after traveling something over three hundred miles from the mouth of the Kansas reached the Platte river, where they encamped in a charming place near Grand Island. The country was most beautiful, though they suffered somewhat from the violent storms which frequently broke over them.

The noon halt was made and all were lounging about the camp, when one of the men on guard called an alarm. Everybody sprang to his feet and grasped his rifle, expecting an attack from Indians. A strange wild looking company were seen approaching, but, as they came closer, they were discovered to be white men. They were a striking sight, numbering fourteen, in the most ragged and woebegone condition imaginable. They had been on a trapping expedition, but having met with nothing but disasters from the beginning, were now straggling back to St. Louis on foot.

The explorers proceeded at a leisurely pace that day and having gone into camp, observed three Indians drawing near, one of whom was a boy about a dozen years of age. They were Cheyennes that had been out among the Pawnees to steal horses, but having met with no success, were returning home. Catching sight of the white men, they unhesitatingly entered camp, confident of being treated well, as of course proved to be the case. After supper one of the warriors drew a rude but correct map of the country around them, and gave it to Fremont.

On the first of July, while riding over a delightful prairie country, on the right bank of the river, a herd of buffaloes, numbering nearly a thousand, came up from the water and began slowly crossing the plain, cropping the grass as they went. As the prairie was three miles broad only, a fine opportunity was given the hunters to charge before the animals could scatter among the hills.

The fleetest horses were quickly saddled and Carson, Fremont, and Maxwell prepared for the chase. By that time the herd was a half mile away and they did not notice the hunters until they were within three hundred yards. Then followed an agitation of the animals, quickly followed by their precipitate flight. The horses dashed after them. A crowd of bulls brought up the rear, they having stationed themselves there to defend the females. Every once in a while they would whirl about and stare, snorting at the horsemen, as if they had made up their minds to fight; but when the hunters came nigher, they turned about and plunged after the herd. Describing the exciting incident, Fremont wrote;

"In a few moments, during which we had been quickening our pace, we were going over the ground like a hurricane. When at about thirty yards we gave the usual shout and broke into the herd. We entered on the side, the mass giving away in every direction in their heedless course. Many of the bulls, less fleet than the cows, paying no heed to the ground, and occupied solely with the hunters, were precipitated to the earth with great force, rolling over and over with the violence of the shock, and hardly distinguishable in the dust. We separated, on entering, each singling out his game.

"My horse was a trained hunter, famous in the west under the name of Proveau, and with his eyes flashing and the foam flying from his mouth, he sprang on after the cow like a tiger. In a few moments he brought me alongside of her. Rising in the stirrups, I fired, at the distance of a yard, the ball entering at the termination of the long hair, passing near the heart. She fell headlong at the report of the gun. Checking my horse, I looked around for my companions.

"At a little distance Kit was on the ground engaged in tying his horse to the horns of a cow, which he was preparing to cut up. Among the scattered band at some distance, I caught a glimpse of Maxwell. While I was looking, a light wreath of white smoke curled away from his gun, from which I was too far to hear the report. Nearer, and between me and the hills, toward which they were directing their course, was the body of the herd. Giving my horse the rein, we dashed after them. A thick cloud of dust hung upon their rear, which filled my mouth and eyes and nearly smothered me. In the midst of this I could see nothing, and the buffaloes were not distinguishable until within thirty feet. They crowded together more densely still, as I came upon them, and rushed along in such a compact body that I could not obtain an entrance, the horse almost leaping upon them.

"In a few moments the mass divided to the right and left, the horns clattering with a noise heard above everything else, and my horse darted into the opening. Five or six bulls charged on us as we dashed along the line, but were left far behind. Singling out a cow, I gave her my fire but struck too high. She gave a tremendous leap and scoured on swifter than before. I reined up my horse, and the band swept on like a torrent, and left the place quiet and clear. Our chase had led us into dangerous ground. A prairie dog village, so thickly settled that there were three or four holes in twenty yards square, occupied the whole bottom for nearly two miles in length."

The stirring buffalo hunt ended, the company advanced over the prairie for more than twenty miles, and encamped on the banks of a stream, where they enjoyed a fine feast on choice bison steaks. While they were thus employed, the wolves were attracted thither by the smell of broiling meat and prowled around camp, licking their chops, impatient for the time when they would be permitted to gorge themselves upon what should be left.

For several days there was little variation in the experience of the explorers, and no special incident took place. At the junction of the north and south fork of the Platte, Fremont, who wished to explore the south branch and to secure some astronomical observations, set out with nine men intending to advance to St. Vrain's fort, where he was hopeful of obtaining some mules. The rest of the party followed the north fork to fort Laramie, where it was agreed they would wait for the others to join them.

Fremont's experience in going up the south branch was in strong contrast to the pleasant scenes of the previous. It was midsummer and the weather was suffocatingly hot. Fierce storms of wind and gusts of rain swept the country, while the bisons were everywhere. They literally numbered hundreds of thousands, and, look in whatsoever direction the men chose, they were sure to see the huge creatures cropping the grass or lumbering across the prairie.

On the fourth day a band of three hundred mounted Indians suddenly appeared. The chief proved to be an old acquaintance of Maxwell and showed genuine pleasure in meeting him. They shook hands and the sachem conducted the little party to his village, where they received most hospitable treatment.

Resuming their journey, they encamped in a cottonwood grove in a chilly drizzling rain. The next morning dawned bright and clear, and they caught their first glimpse of the Rocky Mountains. They gazed long on the snowy peaks outlined in the far distance like fleecy clouds against the blue sky.

St. Vrain's Fort was reached on the tenth day. They were made welcome by Mr. St. Vrain, who was much interested in the expedition westward and did everything he could to assist Lieutenant Fremont in the enterprise. The needed horses and mules were secured, and three men were hired to accompany them across the country to Fort Laramie.

This station was a hundred and twenty-five miles distant, and the new hands engaged, as a matter of course, were so familiar with it, that there was no possibility of going astray. The journey was resumed on the second day after reaching the fort, and without meeting with any particular incident they arrived at their destination, three days later.

Fort Laramie, at that time, was one of the most important posts of the far west. It had large bastions at the corners, and its high walls were whitewashed and picketed.

Several lodges of Sioux Indians were pitched close by, and the division under charge of Kit Carson having arrived several days before, had also gone into camp with the appearance of the commander of the expedition.



CHAPTER XX

Alarming News—Fremont Presses Forward and is Not Molested—Arrival at South Pass—Fremont's Account of the Ascent of the Highest Peak of the Rocky Mountains—The Return to Fort Laramie—Carson Starts for New Mexico—End of Fremont's First Exploring Expedition.

Alarming news awaited Fremont at Fort Laramie. A number of trappers informed them that the Sioux, through whose country their route lay, were excited to exasperation by several recent conflicts with hunters in which the red men were worsted. The Sioux warriors were gathered in large numbers and would attack any white men who ventured beyond the fort. They had already massacred a number and it was impossible for Fremont and his party to get through without a battle in which they were likely to be overwhelmed.

Carson looked upon the situation as so serious that he made his will and left it at the fort. When consulted by Fremont, he said he considered the prospect full of peril, but he was ready to go the moment required. The commander was confident the danger was greatly exaggerated, and, without much misgiving, he resumed his journey westward, following up the north fork of the Platte. Game and water were found, and, at the end of three weeks, they arrived at the South Pass of the Rocky Mountains without having exchanged a shot with a red man on the way.

They had now reached their destination and Lieutenant Fremont at once began his observations. When they were concluded he undertook the ascent of the highest mountain peak. The situation was anything but encouraging: they were in the country of the hostile Blackfeet, some of whom were observed hovering in the vicinity; men and animals were worn out and it was hard to procure game. But the ascent was begun, Fremont taking fourteen men with him. Those who were left in camp erected a rude but strong fort, behind which they were confident they could sustain themselves against any force the Indians were likely to muster.

The ascent of the mountain was laborious in the extreme. Kit Carson climbed to one of the loftiest peaks from which he gained a full view of the very highest elevation. The next day Fremont sent Carson and several of the men back. He unquestionably intended that no one should share with him the honor of climbing the most elevated point. This exploit is worthy of description at the hands of the Pathfinder himself.

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

Parfleche is the name given to buffalo hide. The Indian women prepare it by scraping and drying. It is exceedingly tough and hard, and receives its name from the circumstance that it cannot be pierced by arrows or spears.

The entire dress of Fremont and his party, on their ascent to the "top of America," consisted of a blue flannel shirt, free and open at the neck, the collar turning down over a black silk handkerchief tied loosely, blue cloth pantaloons, a slouched broad brimmed hat, and moccasins as above described. It was well adapted to climbing, quite light, and at the same time warm, and every way comfortable.

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

"Around us the whole scene had one main striking feature, which was that of terrible convulsion. Parallel to its length, the ridge was split into chasms and fissures, between which rose the thin, lofty walls, terminated with slender minarets and columns, which are correctly represented in the view from the camp on Island Lake. According to the barometer, the little crest of the wall on which we stood was three thousand five hundred and seventy feet above that place, and two thousand seven hundred and eighty feet above the little lakes at the bottom, immediately at our feet.

"Our camp at the Two Hills (an astronomical station) bore south 30 east, which, with a bearing afterward obtained from a fixed position, enabled us to locate the peak. The bearing of the Trois Tetons was north 50 degrees west, and the direction of the central ridge of the Wind River Mountains south 39 degrees east. The summit rock was gneiss. Sienite and feldspar succeeded in our descent to the snow line, where we found a felspathic granite. I had remarked that the noise produced by the explosion of our pistols had the usual degree of loudness, but was not in the least prolonged, expiring almost instantaneously. Having now made what observations our means afforded, we proceeded to descend. We had accomplished an object of laudable ambition, and beyond the strict order of our instructions. We had climbed the loftiest peak of the Rocky Mountains and looked down upon the snow a thousand feet below, and, standing where human foot had never stood before, felt the exultation of first explorers. It was about two o'clock when we left the summit; and when we reached the bottom the sun had already sunk behind the wall, and the day was drawing to a close. It would have been pleasant to linger here and on the summit longer; but we hurried away as rapidly as the ground would permit, for it was an object to regain our party as soon as possible, not knowing what accident the next hour might bring forth."

This mountain which bears the name of Fremont's Peak, in honor of the great Pathfinder, was found to be 13,570 feet above the Gulf of Mexico.

The object of the expedition was accomplished and preparations were made for the return to the states. No accident worth the mention had befallen the explorers, and the Blackfeet, from whom so much was feared, did not molest them. It may have been that when their scouts reconnoitred the camp, they found the barricades so strong and the garrison so watchful that they decided it would be too costly to make an attack upon them. It is not impossible that some one or more of them recognized the daring mountaineer who more than once years before had given their warriors such severe defeat and punishment. If such was the truth, we cannot but respect the discretion they showed.

Fort Laramie was reached in the month of September 1842. There as Kit Carson's labors were ended, he bade his commander and friends goodbye and started for New Mexico. Fremont and his men reached the states in safety and thus ended his first exploring expedition.



CHAPTER XXI.

Carson Starts for the States—The Encampment of Captain Cook and his Dragoons—Carson Undertakes a Delicate and Dangerous Mission—The Perilous Journey—Return of Carson and the Mexican Boy—Encounter with Four Utah Indians—Arrival at Bent's Fort.

Early in the year 1843, Kit Carson married his second wife and shortly after agreed to accompany an expedition of Bent & St. Vrain's wagons to the States. When part way across the plains, they struck the old Santa Fe trail and came upon an encampment of Captain Cook with four companies of United States Dragoons.

They were engaged in escorting a train of Mexican wagons to the boundary line between New Mexico and the United States. The train was a very valuable one and an escort of a hundred men were hired to accompany it through the Indian country.

The situation of this train was an alarming one. It was the duty of Captain Cook and his soldiers to guard it as far as the fording of the Arkansas, at that time the boundary line between the two countries. There was good reason for believing that a strong band of Texan rangers were waiting beyond, with the intention of attacking and plundering the train. Indeed the Mexican who had it in charge had received information that left no possible doubt of the fact.

His face lighted up when he recognized Kit Carson. Hardly waiting until they had greeted each other, he offered him a liberal reward if he would ride post haste to Santa Fe and deliver a letter to the Governor, containing an urgent request to send a strong force to escort the train thither.

Carson unhesitatingly accepted the offer and with his usual promptness started almost immediately on his delicate and dangerous business. The journey was one of several hundred miles through a country swarming with Indians, and all the skill, cunning and vigilance of the great scout would be required to succeed. But he never faltered in the face of peril.

A veteran mountaineer agreed to keep him company, but, when Bent's Fort was reached he refused to go further, and Carson, as he had often done before in critical situations, went on alone.

The news which he heard at the fort was of a startling nature. The Utah Indians were hostile and his long journey led him directly through their country. He could not censure his friend for declining to go further, nor could he blame others whom he asked to accompany him, when they shook their heads. Mr. Bent understood the peculiar danger in which Kit would be placed, and though he was splendidly mounted, he loaned him a magnificent steed which he led, ready to mount whenever the necessity should arise for doing so.

That journey was one of the most remarkable of the many made by Kit Carson. It would have been less so, had he possessed a companion of experience, for they could have counselled together, and one would have kept watch while the other slept. As it was, Carson was compelled to scan every portion of the plain before him, on the constant lookout for Indians, who would have spared no effort to circumvent and slay him, had they known of his presence in their country. He was so placed, indeed, that only by the most consummate skill could he hope to run the continuous gauntlet, hundreds of miles in length.

He had gone but a short distance when he detected the trails of his enemies, showing they were numerous and liable to be encountered at any moment. When night came, he picketed his horses and lay down on the prairie or in some grove, ready to leap to his feet, bound upon one of his steeds and gallop away on a dead run. Where the hunter has no friend to mount guard, he is often compelled to depend upon his horses, who frequently prove the best kind of sentinels. They are quick to detect the approach of strangers, and a slight neigh or stamp of the foot is enough to give the saving warning.

A large portion of the country over which he rode, was a treeless plain and the keen blue eyes of the matchless mountaineer were kept on a continual strain. A moving speck in the distant horizon, the faint column of thin smoke rising from the far off grove, or a faint yellow dust against the blue sky, could only mean one thing—the presence of enemies, for he was in a region which contained not a single friend.

One afternoon Carson discovered an Indian village directly ahead of him and on the trail which he was following. He instantly withdrew beyond sight of any who might be on guard, and, hunting a sparse grove of timber, kept within it until dark; then he made a long circuit, and came back to the trail far beyond it. He travelled a long distance that night and by daylight was in no danger of detection.

By using such extreme caution and watchfulness, he succeeded in passing the entire distance without exchanging a hostile shot with anyone. He reached Taos, where he waited as agreed upon, until his message could be sent to the Governor at Santa Fe. While in Taos he learned that one hundred men had been sent out to meet the caravan and the Governor himself was about ready to follow with six hundred more. It may be stated in this place that the smaller company, while looking for the train was attacked by the Texan rangers and with a single exception every man was killed; but venturing into American territory, the rangers were disarmed by Captain Cook and his dragoons, and the wealthy wagon train, with its valuable cargo reached its destination in safety.

Having accomplished his mission, Carson set out on his return to Bent's Fort. This time he took a Mexican boy with him. The mountaineer had become strongly attached to the youth, who was a noble, high minded lad, the fit companion of the prince among plainsmen.

Two days out from Taos, both were surprised to find themselves confronted by four Utah Indians on the war path. They appeared so suddenly, that the two friends were given little time to make preparation; but, as some distance separated the parties, Kit and the lad hastily consulted over what was best to do.

"It is you whom they are seeking," said the youth, "and your life is worth a great deal more than mine; you have a swift horse; mount him and dash off; perhaps they will spare me, but you cannot help me by staying."

"Your offer is a kind one," said Carson much touched by the words of his young friend; "but nothing in the world would induce me to leave you. We will stick together and if we must die, why let's each take a warrior with us."

The leading warrior sauntered toward the couple, while they were hastily consulting together, after the manner of one who felt he was master of the situation. A broad grin stretched across his painted face, as he extended one hand to salute Carson, while he reached for his rifle with the other. Just as his fingers were closing around the weapon of the mountaineer, the latter struck him a violent blow in the face, which sent him staggering several paces backward. The other Utahs instantly ran forward to the help of their comrade.

When they were within a few rods, Carson brought his gun to his shoulder and peremptorily ordered them to halt. They hesitated, as if uncertain what to do, when he told them that if they advanced another step or made any hostile demonstration, both he and his companion would fire. They would be sure of hitting two of the warriors, when it would become something like an even fight, with two on each side, and with the prospect that the red men might suffer still further.

But the Indians were not to be bluffed in such an easy fashion. They brandished their guns, shook powder in the pans and talked boastingly of what they meant to do. They were double the number of their enemies and they would teach them how brave Utah warriors were.

Neither Carson nor the lad was disturbed by these demonstrations, which meant to intimidate them. The mountaineer whispered to his brave young companion to keep on his guard against any sudden rush or demonstration. But the lad scarcely needed the warning. He was as alert and vigilant as his friend. Had the red men attempted anything hostile, the two would have fired instantly and then drawn their pistols and been ready for the others.

The Utahs finally saw it was useless to attempt to bluff the man and boy, and they rode away without offering them the least harm. Carson and his young companion instantly resumed their journey, still watchful and alert; but they reached Bent's Fort without molestation, and the dangerous venture was over.



CHAPTER XXII.

Kit Carson Hears Surprising News—He Visits Fremont—Is Re-engaged as Guide—Fremont's Account of his Visit to Salt Lake.

Kit Carson was astonished on reaching Bent's Fort to learn that Lieutenant Fremont had gone by on his second exploring expedition but a few days before. Carson felt a strong attachment for his old leader and galloped nearly a hundred miles to overtake him. Fremont gave the mountaineer most cordial greeting and insisted so strongly on his accompanying him that Carson could not refuse.

The object of Fremont's second exploration was to connect the survey of the previous year with those of Commander Wilkes on the Pacific coast. The first objective point was the Great Salt Lake of Utah, of which very little was known at that time.

Carson was sent back to the fort to procure a number of mules. He did as directed and rejoined Fremont at St. Vrain's Fort. The region traversed by these explorers is so well known today that it is hard to realize what a terra incognita it was but a short time since. Perhaps it will be most instructive at this point to quote the words of the great Pathfinder himself. The party arrived on the 21st of August on the Bear River, one of the principal tributaries of Great Salt Lake. The narrative of Fremont proceeds:

"We were now entering a region, which for us possessed a strange and extraordinary interest. We were upon the waters of the famous lake which forms a salient point among the remarkable geographical features of the country, and around which the vague and superstitious accounts of the trappers had thrown a delightful obscurity, which we anticipated pleasure in dispelling, but which, in the meantime, left a crowded field for the exercise of our imagination.

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

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

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

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

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