Christopher Carson, Familiarly Known as Kit Carson

Kit Carson's heart was touched. He proposed to Richard Godoy, an experienced and noble-hearted mountaineer, that they two should pursue the thirty Indian warriors, rescue the captives, and regain the animals. They soon struck the Indian trail and followed it nearly all the night. The Indians, not apprehensive of pursuit, were travelling leisurely. Towards morning, Carson and his companion halted for an hour or two, to allow their horses to graze and to get a little sleep. At daybreak they were again in the saddle, and just at sunrise discovered the Indians in a snug little valley, feasting luxuriously upon horse-steaks. They had already killed five of the stolen animals.

These two men immediately charged, with a loud shout, upon the thirty warriors. The savages were taken utterly by surprise, and thrown into a panic. Carson's practiced eye selected the chief, who instantly fell pierced through the heart by a bullet from Carson's rifle. Godoy missed his aim, but instantly reloading, another warrior dropped in his blood. The Indians, not doubting that the two were but the advance party of a strong force, fled with precipitation, abandoning everything. Deliberately Carson collected the horses, counted them and found that they had them all, excepting the five the thieves had killed.

They then followed the trail back to the spot where the savages had attacked the Mexicans. The captives had all been killed and their bodies had been shockingly mangled. Carson and his heroic companion, with fifteen horses, rejoined the camp. The property was at once restored to the Mexicans without any remuneration whatever being received by either of these men for their exploit. They had been absent from the camp thirty hours, and had ridden over a hundred miles.

The march was now resumed and, after a tedious journey of many leagues, they reached Fort Bent on the second of July, where the exploring party was disbanded. Colonel Fremont proceeded to Washington. Kit Carson returned to Taos. Thinking that he had had enough of wandering, he decided to become a farmer, that he might reside at home with his family. He purchased quite a large tract of land a little out from the straggling village of Taos, and commenced farming upon a pretty large scale.

As he was very busy erecting his buildings and breaking up the soil, an express arrived from Colonel Fremont, stating that he was about to set out on a third exploring tour and that he should depend upon Mr. Carson's accompanying him. He also reminded him of a promise once given that he would be ever ready to heed such a call.

Mr. Carson had made large investments in buildings, stock, farming utensils, etc. With Mr. Owens, who had been his companion on a former trip, Mr. Carson set out for Fort Bent, where he met with a very cordial welcome from Colonel Fremont. We cannot follow the party, in its long and adventurous wanderings, along the ravines, across the prairies, and over the mountains, until they reached the lower extremity of the Great Salt Lake. Before them towards the west spread out a vast desert, of unknown extent. No white man had ever crossed it. Colonel Fremont decided that it was his duty to explore it. His men were always ready to follow their bold chieftain.

Kit Carson and three others were sent forward to mark out the road by their trail. Should they find grass and water, they were to build a fire, the smoke of which would convey the joyful intelligence to Colonel Fremont, who was watching, spy-glass in hand, from a neighboring eminence. For sixty miles they travelled without finding a drop of water, or a blade of grass. Then suddenly they came upon both in abundance; an oasis in the desert.

Carson built a rousing fire, piling on the green wood to make as much smoke as possible. Notwithstanding the great distance, the glass of Fremont discerned the billowy signal, ascending through the serene skies. His party was at once put in motion, and after a weary march reached their companions. They thence pressed on to Sutter's Fort, where they could only obtain moderate supplies. On the trip they had divided into two parties and one of them had wandered and got lost. Mr. Carson was sent to hunt them up. With his usual skill and promptitude, he accomplished his mission, and brought the lost party safely to the fort. They then directed their course to Monterey, on the sea coast, where they could obtain all they needed. When within thirty miles of the place, an express arrived from General Castro, the Mexican commander of the territory, ordering Colonel Fremont and his party to leave the country or he would compel them to do so.

Instead of obeying this order, Colonel Fremont, with but forty men under his command, immediately selected a good military position, and prepared for a defence. General Castro soon appeared with several hundred troops, infantry, cavalry and artillery, and established himself within a few hundred yards of the Fremont camp. The two parties watched each other for three days. Colonel Fremont then, satisfied that the Mexicans would not assume the offensive, and that it would be rash to attempt to force his way against so powerful a foe, turned his steps north to the Sacramento river, and thence to the mouth of the Columbia.

On the route they met a thousand Indian warriors. They were armed only with arrows and javelins. A fierce battle ensued. The Indians were repelled with heavy loss. Mr. Carson thinks that in that conflict, they became convinced that with their weapons, they could never hope to vanquish the rifle-armed white men. Upon this trip they also learned that war had broken out between the United States and Mexico. The express which brought this intelligence informed Fremont that a United States officer was in the rear, with a few men in imminent peril.

Colonel Fremont took Carson and ten other picked men, and hastened to the rescue. Mr. Carson himself gives the following account of a tragic scene which soon took place. The narrative was given in a letter published in the Washington Union of June, 1847:

"Mr. Gillespie had brought the Colonel letters from home and he was up, and kept a large fire burning until after midnight. This was the only night, in all our travels, except the one night on the island in Salt Lake, that we failed to keep guard. As the men were so tired and we expected no attack now that we had sixty in the party, the Colonel did not like to ask it of them, but sat up late himself. Owens and I were sleeping together, and we were waked at the same time by the licks of the axe that killed our men. At first I did not know it was that, but I called to Basil who was on that side:

"'What's the matter there? What's that fuss about?'

"He never answered for he was dead then, poor fellow, and he never knew what killed him. His head had been cut in, in his sleep. The Delawares, we had four with us, were sleeping at that fire, and they sprang up as the Klamaths charged them. One of them caught up a gun which was unloaded, but although he could do no execution he kept them at bay like a soldier, and did not give up till he was shot full of arrows, three entering his heart.

"As soon as I had called out I saw it was Indians in the camp, and I and Owens cried out together, 'Indians.' There were no orders given, things went on too fast, and the Colonel had men with him that did not need to be told their duty. The Colonel and I, Maxwell, Owens, Godey and Stepp jumped together and went to the assistance of our Delawares.

"I don't know who fired first and who didn't; but I think it was Stepp's shot that killed the Klamath chief; for it was at the crack of Stepp's gun that he fell. He had an English half-axe slung to his wrist by a cord, and there were forty arrows left in his quiver; the most beautiful and warlike arrows I ever saw. He must have been the bravest man among them, from the way he was armed, and judging from his cap.

"When the Klamaths saw him fall, they ran; but we lay, every man with his rifle cocked, until daylight, expecting another attack. In the morning we found, by the tracks, that from fifteen to twenty of the Klamaths had attacked us. They had killed three of our men and wounded one of the Delawares, who scalped the chief, whom they left where he fell.

"Our dead men we carried on mules; but after going about ten miles we found it impossible to get them any farther through the thick timber. And finding a secret place we buried them under logs and chunks, having no way to dig a grave. It was only a few days before this, that some of these same Indians had come into our camp; and although we had only meat for two days and felt sure that we should have to eat mules for ten or fifteen days to come, the Colonel divided with them, and even had a mule unpacked to give them some tobacco and knives."

In consequence of the war declared between the United States and Mexico, Colonel Fremont thought it expedient to return to California. He judged it, however, to be necessary first, as a lesson to the savages, to punish them severely for their wanton murder of his men. Kit Carson, at the head of ten chosen mountaineers, was sent forward in search of their strongholds. If he discovered them without being seen himself he was to return for reinforcements. If seen he was to act as he thought best.

He soon discovered an Indian trail, and followed it to an Indian encampment of fifty lodges, containing one hundred and fifty warriors. The agitation in the camp evidenced that the Indians had obtained warning of danger. Carson decided to attack them instantly, in the midst of their confusion. The Indians for a moment made a bold stand. But as bullet after bullet pierced them, from the invisible missiles of their foe, whom they could not reach with arrows, they turned in a panic and fled. Mr. Carson wishing to inflict chastisement which would not soon be forgotten, ordered all their valuables to be collected in their lodges and then applied the torch. The flames leaped high in the air and in an hour nothing remained of the Indian village, but glowing embers and the bodies of their dead warriors.

Colonel Fremont saw the smoke of the conflagration and understood its significance. He hastened forward and joined Carson. But it was thought that the Indians had not yet received the punishment which their crime deserved. The whole party then moved on together for several miles, to a secluded encampment.

Mr. Carson said that the warriors would certainly return to view the ruins of their village and to bury their dead. Twenty men were consequently sent back to lie in ambush. At midnight fifty savages were seen in the bright moonlight, approaching their ruined homes. Some alarm caused them precipitately to retreat. Carson was a little in advance with Colonel Fremont. He saw one solitary warrior separate from the rest. Spurring upon the savage at the distance of not ten paces he endeavored to shoot him, when his gun missed fire. He was now apparently at the mercy of the Indian, who had already with sinewy arm, drawn an arrow to the feather to pierce the body of his foe.

Fremont was mounted on a very powerful and spirited charger. He plunged the rowels of his spurs into the animal, when the noble horse made one or two frantic leaps, knocked down the Indian and trampled over him. The arrow of the savage flew wide of its mark. The next moment a rifle ball pierced his heart, and he lay quivering in death.

The party now pressed on to the Sacramento river. The Klamath warriors dogged their path, watching for an opportunity to take them at advantage. One day Carson and Godey, who were a little separated from the rest of the company, came quite unexpectedly upon a band of these warriors and instantly charged upon them. One Indian only was too proud to fly. He took his position behind a rock and as soon as the two white men came within shooting distance, he let fly his arrows with great force and rapidity.

After dodging these arrows for some time, Carson mounted and crept through concealment, till he obtained good aim at the savage. There was a sharp report of the rifle, and the Indian was dead. Carson took from him a beautifully wrought bow and a quiver still containing a number of arrows. But the savages still continued to hover around their trail without venturing upon any attack.

CHAPTER XIII.

The Dispatch Bearer

Colonel Fremont.—Hazardous Undertaking of Kit Carson.—Carson's Courage and Prudence.—Threatened Danger.—Interview with General Kearney, and Results.—Severe Skirmish.—Wonderful Escape of Carson.—Daring Adventure.—Fearful Suffering.—Lieutenant Beale.—Carson's Journey to Washington.—Adventures on his Return.

Our explorers now pressed on for twenty-four hours without encountering any molestation, though they saw many indications that the Indians were hovering about their track. Hungry and weary, they reached Fort Lawson, on the Sacramento river, where they tarried for a week to recruit. They then followed down the river some distance, to the well-known camping-grounds, "The Buttes."

War between the United States and Mexico was in active operation. Colonel Fremont took the responsibility of capturing a weak Mexican post near by, at Sonoma, where he obtained several cannon and some small arms. His explorers being thus virtually resolved into an army, he marched, with Kit Carson as nominal Lieutenant, for the capture of Monterey. Before he reached there, the city was taken by an American squadron under Commodore Sloat. Colonel Fremont obtained a ship to convey him, with his fast friend Kit Carson, and one hundred and fifty bold mountaineers, who had attached themselves to his fortunes, a few hundred miles down the coast, to San Diego. Thence he marched upon Los Angelos.

It was becoming important to have some communication with Washington. To send dispatches around by the cape, required a voyage of weary months. To reach the capital by land, it was necessary to traverse an almost pathless wilderness four thousand miles in extent. Whoever should undertake such an enterprise, must not only live upon such food as he could pick up by the way, but also be exposed to attack from innumerable bands of hostile savages, urged on by still more hostile Mexicans.

On the fifteenth of September, 1846, Kit Carson undertook this hazardous enterprise. He was placed in command of fifteen picked men. The utmost vigilance was necessary every step of the way. He was instructed to make the journey in sixty days. For two days, he pressed on his way without molestation. The third day, he came suddenly in view of a large encampment of Apache Indians. Each party discovered the other at the same moment. There was instantly great commotion in the Indian camp; the warriors running to and fro in preparation for a fight.

Mr. Carson, acquainted with their language, and also familiar with all their customs, saw at once that his only safety consisted in reckless courage. He halted his little band, and assuming an air of entire unconcern, rode forward till he came within speaking distance, and of course within arrow distance of hundreds of plumed and painted warriors. He was entirely at their mercy. They might instantly pierce him, and almost bury him beneath a shower of arrows. The chief of the white men being thus killed, the rest of the party would fall easily a prey to their overpowering numbers. Carson shouted out to them:

"I come to you as a friend, and I ask for a parley."

Two or three warriors then came forward and with the usual preliminaries, held a brief conference. They could without any difficulty have seized upon Carson and held him as a hostage. But he knew that his only possible safety was in this apparent act of desperation. Having smoked the pipe of peace, he said to them:

"We come to you as friendly travellers, seeking only a passage through your country. We come to you as brothers, presenting the olive branch of peace. We do not wish to harm you. We ask only for your friendship. Our animals are weary. We would exchange them for those that are fresh. We will pay you well for the exchange."

If that be eloquence which moves the heart, this was eloquence. It changed the hearts of the Indians. Friendly demonstrations immediately took the place of preparations for a bloody fight. Carson pitched his camp at a short distance from the Apaches. His prudence, as well as his courage, was developed. He selected a site where in case of treachery, he could make a vigorous defence. Every man had rifle, revolver, and knife. Every man was instructed, while assuming an air of entire trust in the Indians, to be constantly on the watch. There was to be no surrender. In case of attack, every man was to sell his life as dearly as possible. The calm, self-possessed, invincible spirit of this wonderful man was infused into all his followers. Fifteen such men with rifles, revolvers, and knives, would make terrible havoc among a crowd of Indian warriors, before they could all be cold in death.

As soon as the camp was arranged, the Indians were allowed to come in. They smoked and feasted, and traded together, in the most friendly manner. Carson remounted all his men on fresh and vigorous steeds. The next morning he went on his way rejoicing.

Nearly a month passed away, as this heroic little band, with tireless diligence, pressed along their pathless route towards the rising sun. With the utmost caution, Mr. Carson avoided the Indian trails, making a path for himself. He would often make a wide circuit, that he might not cross hunting grounds where his experience taught him that Indian hunting bands would probably be encountered.

It was a bright and beautiful morning, the sixth of October, that they entered upon the western edge of a smooth, treeless prairie extending to the east as far as the eye could reach. Soon after the morning sun began to flood that ocean of waving flowers with its rays, the keen eye of Carson discerned in the extreme east, a small speck, like the sail of a ship at sea. He watched it, it moved. Slowly it increased in size. It soon developed itself into the front of a numerous band of warriors. His anxiety was great. It was not wise to attempt flight over the boundless prairie.

As the column drew nearer, he discovered to his great joy that it was a detachment of United States troops. The expedition had been sent out by the government, to operate under General Kearney, in California. As the two parties met, General Kearney sent for Mr. Carson, and after a little conversation with him, decided to entrust his dispatches to Mr. Fitzpatrick, to convey them to Washington, while he should attach Mr. Carson to his staff as a guide, of which he stood greatly in need. Upon informing Mr. Carson of this his decision, the modest reply of the pioneer was, "As the General thinks best."

Mr. Carson now was invested with the responsible office of guiding the footsteps of this army over these almost boundless plains. This duty he so performed as to receive the highest commendation of General Kearney. And his dignified character was such as to win the confidence and respect of every man in the army. The worst of men can often appreciate high moral excellence.

Early in December the army had reached California, and were approaching San Diego. On the sixth, the scouts brought the news that a numerous party of Mexicans were strongly intrenched a few miles before them, to dispute their passage. Fifteen men were sent forward as an advanced guard, under the guidance of Kit Carson, to drive in the outposts, and capture any loose animals which might be found. A very fierce battle ensued. These Californian Mexicans developed a degree of bravery and determination totally unexpected, and which could not have been exceeded.

Quite a number of troops had come up to assist in carrying an important post. In addition to the fifteen men with Carson, there were two companies of United States dragoons, and twenty-five California volunteers. These determined men, all well mounted, formed a very imposing column for the charge. Mr. Carson was in the front rank of the column. As the horses were plunging forward upon the foe, Mr. Carson's horse, from some inequality in the ground, fell, throwing his rider over his head with such violence as to break his gun-stock in several pieces. Carson was slightly stunned by the fall, and the whole troop of horse galloped over him. It seems a miracle that he was not trampled to death. Though severely bruised, no bones were broken.

Upon recovering, and finding his own gun useless, he looked around and saw a dead dragoon. Seizing his gun, he rushed forward into the thickest of the fight. It is probable that the fall of his horse saved his life. Nearly the whole of the head of the charging column was cut off by the bullets of the foe. The Mexicans were soon driven from their post, and fled on swift horses. But the Americans suffered terribly. Large numbers were killed.

The Mexicans soon rallied with reinforcements and resumed the battle. The advanced guard of the Americans was driven back and compelled to act upon the defensive. We have not space here to give, in detail, the victories and defeats of these fierce conflicts. Most of these California Mexicans were of the bravest blood of Spain. And they fought as if determined to perpetuate their ancestral renown.

When near San Diego, Kearney's force was surrounded by three or four times its number, and were starving. The men were feeding upon the mules. Even that resource seemed almost exhausted. The utter ruin of the army seemed inevitable. A council of war was held. Carson was present. He was a man of few words. When he spoke, all listened. In his soft, feminine voice he said:

"I think I may be able to creep in the night, through the Mexican lines. I can hasten then to San Diego, and inform Commodore Stockton of our peril. He will hasten to the rescue. I am willing to try."

Immediately Lieutenant Beale, of the United States Navy, one of the most heroic of men, added, "I will go with him." General Kearney accepted the noble offer. In its desperation was his only hope.

The camp was encircled by three concentric rows of sentinels. They were mounted, and rode incessantly to and fro, through their short patrols. Night came. It was dark. Carson and Beale crept out from the camp, on their hands and feet, feeling for the tall grass, the slight depressions in the ground, the shade of the thickets. They had shoes instead of moccasins. As they crept along foot by foot in breathless silence, the stiff soles of the shoes would sometimes hit a stone or a stick, and make a slight noise. They drew off their shoes and pushed them under their belts. Occasionally they were within a few feet of the sentinels, whom they could dimly discern.

They had passed the first line of sentinels, and the second, and were just beginning to breathe a little more freely when a sentinel rode up to within a few feet of the spot where they were lying still as death, and but slightly concealed in the tall grass. By daylight they would have been instantly seen. To their terror the sentinel was mounted, and alighting with flint and steel began to strike a light to indulge in the comfort of his pipe. The flame of a piece of paper would reveal them. The suspense was terrible. So still did they lie and so intense were their inward throbbings that Mr. Carson afterwards affirmed that he could actually hear Lieutenant Beale's heart pulsate.

Providentially the Mexican lighted his pipe, and remounting rode in the other direction. For a distance of nearly two miles Carson and Beale thus crept along, working their way through the Mexican lines. Having left the last sentinel behind them, they regained their feet and felt for their shoes. They were gone. Thus far they had not interchanged even a whisper. Though the worst peril was now over, they had still many dangers to encounter, and fearful suffering. It would not do to advance upon San Diego by any of the well-trodden trails, all of which were closely watched by the enemy's scouts. Carson chose a circuitous route over rocks and hills, where their feet were dreadfully lacerated by the prickly pear.

All the next day, with feet torn and bleeding, they toiled along, feeding upon whatever they could find, which would in the slightest degree appease the gnawings of hunger. Another night spread its gloom around them. Still onward was the march of our heroes. About midnight, Carson discovered, from a slight eminence, the dim outline of the houses in San Diego. They approached the American sentinels, announced themselves as friends, and were conducted to Commodore Stockton. He immediately dispatched one hundred and seventy men with a heavy piece of ordnance, and with directions to march day and night, for the relief of Kearney.