The Life and Adventures of Kit Carson, the Nestor of the Rocky Mountains, from Facts Narrated by Himself Part 13

The horses belonging to the Expedition broke down, one by one, until at last, the chase had to be given over, after which the Indians made short work in getting out of sight. Among the trinkets and baggage found in the captured camp, there was a novel which described Kit Carson as a great hero who was able to slay Indians by scores. This book was shown to Kit and was the first of the kind he had ever seen.

After glancing at it he made the remark, "that perhaps Mrs. White, to whom it belonged, knowing he lived not very far off, had prayed to have him make his appearance and a.s.sist in freeing her. He wished that it might have been so, but consoled himself by thinking that he had performed his duty." While on their route back to Taos, the command was overtaken by a terrible snow storm which was accompanied by a high wind; as there were no hills to break its force, it amounted almost to a tornado. The snow was driven with such force into the men's faces that they became nearly blind, and were bewildered as to the course they should travel. During its continuance, they wandered about on the prairies. Finally they were so fortunate that at last they reached a clump of timber in the neighborhood of _Las Vegas_ in New Mexico; but, during the tramp, one man had been frozen to death and others had come near to peris.h.i.+ng.

After arriving in the settlements; the party learned from some friendly Indians, that the Apaches had suffered severely by being exposed to this same storm, and the report was that many of them had since died in consequence thereof. From this, it would appear as if an all seeing power had protected the whites, while it had dealt out a fearful judgment upon these wicked savages, who have more than vague ideas of the sin of murdering, in cold blood, innocent people, sages and philanthropists far distant and safe in great cities to the contrary notwithstanding. There are no set of men in the world who can draw the line between right and wrong based on its first principle, and taught to them by the great lessons of nature, as can many tribes of Indians. Among themselves, and especially among their individual bands, in regard to all crimes, the Indian has his moral code of laws which, in many respects, is not surpa.s.sed by those of his pale-faced brother. They have their civil chief who is responsible for the peace and good order of the camp; and, before him, are tried, by the lawyers of the tribe, all cases worthy of notice. If the parties are found guilty, the offender or offenders are summarily dealt with--therefore, "with his untutored mind," in his intercourse with white men, the Indian is not altogether excusable in committing crime.

There are many people who believe that the Indians, as a race, have been greatly sinned against, and to sustain their views, have called in the a.s.sistance of flowery-written romances and the high-sounding language of prose and poetry. Much of this novelty and interest rubs off by coming in contact with the savage as he really exists.

Admiration often changes, in this case, into distrust and even enmity.

It is natural that this should be so, for mere book-education biases the mind always, either for or against, and therefore, it is not strange that in the far West, we should often meet with men who unhesitatingly declare that the red man, if capable, is unwilling to entertain in his character even one redeeming trait; but, on investigating their individual case, we find that they are but superficial observers who are p.r.o.ne to find fault with everything that does not exactly suit their tastes. It is necessary to spend a whole life with Indians, in order to judge them without prejudice. The Great Spirit has endowed his red children with reason, the same in quality as possessed by any other race, but their habits, mode of life and experience is of such a kind, that, when taken, as a whole, they are truly original. Looking upon this cla.s.s of people, either in the light of an enthusiast or as a detractor, cannot be otherwise than wrong; for, as is usually the case, the truth lies between the extremes.

To be caught in one of these winter storms on the plains is a very serious affair; and one only needs to have been through a fearful gale on the seas to render him dubious of which to choose. To the faint heart, death seems inevitable in either case; and, to such a one, a choice between a watery grave or a bed of snow, when hunger and cold are his attendants while life is gradually ebbing out, is a question in which the contrast appears small. During many of the winter months, a life on the prairies becomes a necessity to the frontiersman and not a pleasure. The force and power of the winds on the level earth of the far West, are beyond human imagination. The snow storms there, at the proper period of the year, are terrific in their grandeur. The quant.i.ty of the snow that falls is not so much a matter of notice as the force with which it comes, being almost blinding in its effects and requiring all the physical powers of both man and beast to meet and contend against it. It but seldom happens, during one of these seasons, that the roads are so blocked up by snow that human ingenuity cannot overcome the obstacle; for the wind drifts the snow, rendering the path clear at intervals which vary in their area. The poor mail parties are the ones who experience this undesirable life; and, in their attempts to make their journeys, they are often driven near to death's door, although every precaution is taken to make the transit safe. The mules of these parties are well protected with india rubber coverings which are lined with blankets, and, so snugly are they made to fit every available part of the animal, that it seems almost impossible for cold to touch them. Corn and fodder, to a limited extent, is transported; but, even with these precautions, the mules now and then succ.u.mb to cold. The man covers his body with warm clothing and carries with him furs and robes enough to be seemingly able to defy the storms. He can provide himself only with a scanty amount of fuel, for his means of conveyance are very contracted. When overtaken by the storms, which may last several days, he is rendered almost powerless, and is at the tender mercies of the gale; for he cannot make fires,--and without them he may perish. This is not true of every trip made across the plains during the winter, for, like on the ocean, the pa.s.sage may be frequently gone through with the encountering of but little real suffering. One thing in favor of making the journey in this season of the year is, the probability of not seeing an Indian. They, usually, during the cold months, stow themselves away in their, comparatively speaking, warm mountain retreats. In crossing the plains, small parties find the item of meeting Indians to be of considerable importance, as, even in the time of peace, they are very exacting and troublesome, demanding that provisions should be given them, by way of toll. To refuse is apt to bring down their ire, when they will usually help themselves to whatever suits their fancy. They are very partial to sugar, which, when they cannot say the word in English, they call "Shoog." If not understood, they make their wants known by the Indian sign of touching with the index finger the tip of the tongue, thereby indicating the sweetness of the article. Many of them come armed with a piece of paper, which testimonial of good behavior they have obtained from their agent or forced from some traveler. As they cannot read, it makes but little difference what is the sense of the writing so long as it is _bona fide_ penmans.h.i.+p. I once saw one of these doc.u.ments which the owner prized very highly, but, had he known the purport of his paper, he would have sighed for the scalp of his _kind friend_ who wrote it. The language was as follows: "Crossing of the Arkansas,"

etc. "The bearer, _Young Antelope_, is a good Indian and will not take anything out of his reach. This is to warn traders and travelers to beware of his race, breed, seed, and generation." It was signed evidently with a fict.i.tious name, and answered the purpose for which it was intended, which was, to get rid of an ugly customer and to put strangers on their guard against the man who carried it.

On arriving at Taos, Kit Carson left this party and proceeded to Rayado, where he was, soon after, actively engaged in farming pursuits.

During the subsequent winter, a detachment of ten dragoons under the command of sergeant Holbrook was stationed at Rayado to protect the little settlement. In order that their animals might have the benefit of the good gra.s.s which was to be found in the mountains at a place where but little snow fell, the settlers established there a herder's ranche, posting two men there to look after and guard the property.

The cold months were pa.s.sed in peace and quiet, but, in the spring the marauding Apaches came, and, after wounding both of the herders, stole all the gentle animals, including both horses and mules. One of the wounded men made his way to Rayado, notwithstanding his injuries, and gave information of what had happened to himself and companion.

On learning these facts, Kit Carson, the dragoons and three of the settlers, immediately proceeded to the ranche. They arrived there just as the shades of night began to fall. Nothing could be attempted until the dawn of another day, consequently, a camp was ordered and duly arranged. As the first faint beam of light gilded anew the mountain tops, the party were up and moving. They soon found the trail made by the thieves and commenced a sharp pursuit. The pace at which they traveled became so rapid, that, at the distance of only twenty-five miles from the spot where they first struck the trail, the Indians were discovered moving on the prairie a long way in advance. There remained nothing but an open chase.

Orders were issued to accelerate even the hitherto rapid march. Each man resumed his exertions to put his horse to his best speed.

The chase was growing intensely exciting when four of the animals belonging to the pursuers gave out, completely ridden down. Their riders were the most unhappy of any of the party at this circ.u.mstance, for it precluded even the chances of engaging in the expected affray.

Leaving the four men behind, the remainder of the party pushed on in the pursuit, and every bound made by their horses brought them nearer to their foes. After several hours of this hard riding, they came near enough to the warriors to count their numbers. Their force consisted of twenty well armed and equipped Indians. They showed no fear of the party pursuing them, but clung to their stolen property with such pertinacity that they allowed themselves to be overtaken. A running fight was immediately commenced which became most exciting, as well as dangerous, to the partic.i.p.ants; but, all the more exciting because thus dangerous. The Indians were all skillful hors.e.m.e.n and fought with great dexterity. Their animals being comparatively fresh, in this respect they had the advantage. Notwithstanding this fact, the pursuing party administered to them a severe lesson. Five of the rascally Indians were killed and several wounded, while all of the stolen animals, with the exception of four, were overtaken and recaptured. The whole of this pursuit and the running fight which terminated so successfully was accomplished under the advice of Kit Carson. Each man in the pursuing party felt that the simple fact that Kit Carson's eagle eye and experienced hand watched and guided their movements was a guaranty of certain and ample success. Hence, the labor of the long chase and the demands upon their personal skill, activity and courage made by the necessities of the fight, were all met with that kind of readiness and determination which seldom fails to make the soldier invincible. Every man in that party knew well that an Indian chase with Kit Carson for a leader, meant fight and win success or die.

In referring to this adventure Kit Carson, when speaking of the gallant men who accompanied him, said, "They all proved themselves to be men of the very best material."

Unfortunately, two of this gallant party have since fallen by the hands of these same Apache warriors. One of these was Sergeant Holbrook, a brave man, a skillful soldier and a n.o.ble friend. He was one who adorned his profession of arms and who was an honor to the country whose uniform he wore. He was killed at the well known battle of Ceneguilla while bravely fighting against overwhelming odds. This battle was fought in New Mexico in the year 1854. In it, a company of United States dragoons were worsted and cut to pieces by a greatly superior force of these Indians who succeeded in drawing them into an ambuscade.

The other person referred to as having been since killed by this tribe of Apaches was a brave and experienced trapper, well known throughout the range of Indian depredations as a fearless and dangerous adversary. His name was William New. He was literally murdered at Rayado by these Apaches. This occurred only a few months after he had formed one of the party to pursue and recover the animals stolen from their ranche. When he was attacked, New was engaged tilling the soil on his own farm. The rascally Indians surrounded him before he became aware of their presence. Having an empty rifle with him, he succeeded, for some time, in keeping his a.s.sailants at bay, by pretending that the piece was loaded and pointing it at the foremost warrior as if he intended to fire it. The savages, however, finally discovered the truth and immediately made a rush upon him. A most desperate fight ensued, for William New, even thus defenceless, was not one who would yield up his life without a struggle. He made almost superhuman efforts to effect his escape, using the rifle as a club; wound after wound was given him in rapid succession in return for the desperate blows which he dealt with the rifle. His efforts, however, proved futile. Gradually the red blood was gathered from his body and drank up by the soil to which he looked for the sustenance of himself and family, until finally, he sank upon the ground fainting from its loss, literally covered from head to foot with frightful wounds. Thus died one more of the spa.r.s.e race of original mountaineers, now fast pa.s.sing away, bravely meeting the fate that has. .h.i.therto usually awaited this band of fearless men.

We again turn to the adventures of Kit Carson. On the fifth day of May, 1850, accompanied by an old mountaineer named Timothy Goodel, he started with fifty head of mules and horses for Fort Laramie. This fort is distant from Rayado, over five hundred miles. The object which the two men had in view was to trade their animals with the emigrants who were, at that time, thronging the overland route to California.

The journey was safely accomplished, Kit Carson and Goodel arriving at the fort, with their animals all in good condition, sometime in the following June. They remained here about one month disposing of their animals at good bargains.

A few rather amusing anecdotes have had their rise connected with this visit which Kit Carson made to Fort Laramie. Among several other incidents the following is somewhat laughable and seems to us worth relating. Among the line of emigrants then on the road, the report was circulated for some distance back that the famous Kit Carson was at the fort. The result was that every man, woman and child, as fast as they arrived at the fort, were eager to gratify their curiosity by a sight of the man whose name and exploits had already been the theme of many a conversation among them. If ever Yankee, or American, (which is the more appropriate term, we will not attempt to decide) inquisitiveness was exhibited, it certainly could be then seen at Fort Laramie. The large majority of those who were thus anxious to see the famous guide, were led astray by the descriptions which they had heard and read, and picked out some powerfully built trader who chanced to present himself, especially if the man was tastefully dressed in a hunting s.h.i.+rt, with buck-skin leggins, and whose appearance indicated ferocity. Of this kind of personages there were quite a number present at the fort. Usually they would accost the man whom they had thus selected. Sometimes, if their address was appropriate and the humor of the person accosted so inclined, they would get put right, but more frequently they were left to enjoy and cherish their mistake, or were made the subject of a joke. Among the rest there came along quite a rough looking individual fresh from the cane-brakes of Arkansas. He, also, was seeking to place his eyes upon Kit Carson. Accidentally, or intentionally, it matters not for the story, he was directed to the place where the _bona fide_ Kit Carson stood. His powerful frame and determined looks, as he put his inquiries, made those inquired of, apparently, cautious how they perpetrated a joke upon the Arkansas man. At last, standing face to face with Kit Carson, he thus interrogated him. "I say, stranger, are you Kit Carson?" Being modestly answered in the affirmative, he stood a moment, apparently quite taken aback at beholding the short, compact and mild-looking man that stood before him. Evidently his beau ideal of the great mountaineer did not compare with the man whom he thus faced. This momentary hesitation resulted in the conviction that he was being deceived. The conviction, at last, took form in words. Rolling an immense quid of his beloved Indian weed from one cheek to its brother he said, "Look 'ere _stranger_, you can't come that over me any how.

You ain't the kind of Kit Carson I am looking for."

This was too much for Kit Carson to hear without treating the person addressed to his _beau ideal_ of Kit Carson, so suppressing a laugh, and a.s.suming a very meek expression of countenance, as if he was afraid to impose upon the Arkansas man, he quietly pointed to a powerfully built trader, who chanced to be pa.s.sing near by, dressed in true prairie style. The Arkansas emigrant followed around after the trader until, seemingly, he was perfectly satisfied, that he had, at last, found the famous person of whom he had heard so many wonderful stories narrated. After gazing at the man for some time, he departed, no doubt with one more perfect description of what sort of personage Kit Carson was.

From the time Kit Carson's name began to be heralded throughout the world up to the present date, impostors have presented themselves in various cities; and, acting on the credulity of the people, they have palmed themselves off as the individual of whom we write; but, from the perusal of this work, it can be seen how seldom the real Kit Carson has enjoyed the luxuries of civilized life. It is in this way, many persons have gathered wrong impressions concerning Kit Carson.

Within the past few years, a stranger one day presented himself in the quiet town of Taos, and, being a fellow of words, he soon let everybody there know his business, both past and present. In one of the princ.i.p.al stores of the town, there happened to be congregated a small party of friends, among whom was Kit Carson. They were talking of the important affairs of their section of country, when this strange individual entered. His familiarity with all things soon gave him an introduction; and, after a short conversation, a wag present was tempted, by the fellow's boasting, to quiz him. Addressing the traveler he asked, "What part of the world, pray sir, do you come from?"

The answer was prompt.

"I k.u.m from the Cheyenne Nation. I've been living with them Injins fur several years. Indeed, I consider myself more of an Injin than a white man."

The conversation then turned upon other matters. The fellow made some remarks which led the party to believe that he was entirely unacquainted with the Cheyenne Indians, or any other Indians. When he was apparently off of his guard, the wag resumed his questioning.

"I presume, stranger, you accompany the Cheyennes when they go out on war parties, as you say that you have turned warrior."

The reply was:

"When they go out 'gainst t'other Injins, I do; but when they hunt white men's hair, I am allowed to stay behind. This was one of the stip'lations when I took a squaw and jined the tribe."

"Oh ho! that is the way you manage!" exclaimed the wag.

"Yes! and I've bin the means of saving some scalps for my race too, fur the Injins believe in me, they do," continued the fellow.

The wag resumed--

"Perhaps, stranger, you have heard of Kit Carson. It is said he is on the prairies somewhere, either dead or alive."

The fellow answered:

"You've got me! Know Kit Carson! I reckon I do. It is strange that you should ask me that, when Kit was the very last man I laid eyes on as I left our tribe."

Here the fellow lowered his voice and said, as if exemplifying sympathy.

"Poor Kit was in a very bad way one hour before we parted. The fact is, you know, he'd bin playin' the papers (meaning gambling) and had lost everything. However, I made him happy by giving him my gun and powder-horn. With them, you know, he will git along anywhere!"

All hands, except Kit Carson, joined in the laugh at the fellow's impudence. Kit Carson's patience was exhausted in listening to the barefaced falsehoods which the man was uttering; so, with some excuse, he left the party. The fellow was unapprised of the farce which he had been acting; and, shortly after, left the town, believing that he had acquitted himself as became a hero.

By way of episode, and while story-telling keeps its hold on our pen, we may as well relate a short anecdote, which, though it does not form any close connection with this part of the narrative, seems to ill.u.s.trate the practical jokes which are sometimes played off by the western men upon those who have yet to undergo their novitiate.

A German accidentally wandered out to and located himself in company with others on or near the Greenhorn River, which is one of the tributaries of the Arkansas. Their business was trading with the Mormons, many of whom at that time traveled to Salt Lake, by what is known as the Arkansas River route. In so doing, they came near the vicinity of the site selected for trading purposes. In the commencement, the German was very inexperienced in matters that pertained to trading with these emigrants, and, as a matter of course, in an Indian country, met with many singular adventures. It so happened that this man was exceedingly afraid of rattlesnakes, and those he was a.s.sociated with, by way of amus.e.m.e.nt, delighted in augmenting his fears by telling him wonderful stories of what feats the reptile had been known to perform. On the first trip which he made to the camp of some Mormons located about nine miles off, his ride took him through a perfect hot-bed of these snakes. Behind his saddle, on the horse's back which he rode, he had tied a bag of rice which he had intended to barter. The German, not being used to riding, was a poor horseman, while unfortunately, his steed was a spirited animal, and at once, on his mounting, started off on a trot. The string of the bag of rice became loosened by the severe jolting, and its contents came tumbling on the ground in great quant.i.ties, but afterwards as the stock on hand decreased, this was lessened. The German, who had his hands full to keep his seat in the saddle, heard the rattling noise behind him, but dared not look around, for fear of being thrown off from his horse. He supposed he was chased by a ferocious snake, and, at once, thought only of escape; therefore, seizing the mane of the horse, he gave him the spurs. He was soon going at a flying gait; still, the rattling noise pursued him as the increased speed sent the little grains of rice out of the sack in greater quant.i.ties. At last the sound died away, as the cause of the trouble was expended. The frightened rider now considered himself safe, and began to rein in his horse. After a while, he brought him to a stand-still, and turned to look for his retreating enemy, but instead, found the origin and cause of the mischief. His loss was irrecoverable, and he could only laugh at the ridiculous figure he must have cut. This adventure gave his friends much merriment, and served to open his eyes in reference to the much vaunted capabilities of this snake. He has since often told this story of himself, and considers it a capital joke.

The labor of settling up their business at Fort Laramie was soon over, when Kit Carson and Goodel took their departure. Goodel started for California, while Kit Carson commenced his tramp homeward. As a traveling companion, he took with him a Mexican. They pursued their journey quite pleasantly and safely enough, but, on their arrival at the Greenhorn River, the scene of the German's adventure with a rattle-snake, they were obliged to be very wary in their progress, for Kit had learned that the Apache Indians were out on the warpath, and were waylaying the road which, he intended to pursue with the avowed purpose of attacking, plundering and murdering whoever chanced to fall in their savage clutches. Kit Carson, therefore, halted for six days on the banks of the Greenhorn, and spent the time recruiting his animals. While here and thus engaged, a party of white men, whom he found encamped on the same river, formed the subject of his earnest attention. They had come thus far on their route to New Mexico, but, on learning the news of the hostile att.i.tude of the Apache nation, their courage had entirely deserted them. They did not dare venture into New Mexico, and counselled the retracing of their steps. Kit Carson set himself to work, but found he had a difficult task to talk courage into these men. By dint of much argument, he succeeded in persuading one of them to accompany him. On the seventh day, with this one companion--for the Mexican had left him--he broke up his little camp on the Greenhorn, and set out upon his dangerous journey.

By taking a zigzag course, avoiding, in the mountains, all the usually traveled trails, he advanced on his route forty miles without seeing any very fresh Indian signs. As often as the moon was unclouded, the two men embraced the a.s.sistance of its pale light to make progress through the dangers that beset them; and, on the days which succeeded this night-work, they would conceal themselves and animals in some out of the way place, where they were not to be easily discovered. Kit Carson had not sufficient confidence in the quickness of perception of his companion to trust him as a sentinel, therefore, he had to take upon himself all of that important duty. While on the lookout, he usually posted himself in the top limbs of a tree and always took care to select one that commanded a good prospect of the surrounding country. After several days pa.s.sed without having proper rest, Kit, in the monotony of his position as sentinel, would feel sleep stealing over him, until it was difficult to keep longer awake. He would close his eyes and commence to nod, but on these occasions he was sure to be quickly aroused on almost losing his balance, by which, however, he endangered his neck. One day, while thus employed, he was perched in the highest branches of a lofty old cotton-wood on the banks of the River Timchera and not far off from the "Spanish Peaks." Nearly ten hours had pa.s.sed without anything special having attracted his attention, when, all at once, a band of straggling Apaches came into view not over one half mile distant. A single look was sufficient to convince him that, as yet, neither himself nor his companion had been discovered. No time was to be lost, so Kit, as quickly as possible, descended and ran to where his friend was, and informed him of their danger. The animals were soon saddled, and the two men mounting them, struck out in a direction just the opposite to that in which the Indians were traveling. Fortune favored them, as, soon after they had emerged from the timber into the open prairies, night set in, thus shutting them out from the view of the savages. Profiting by the darkness and the level country which lay before them, they reached, by the rising of the next morning's sun, the Mexican town of Red River, which was sixty-five miles distant from the place they had last started from. All dangers having been now surmounted, they made a sufficient stay at Red River to rest themselves and animals.

On resuming their journey, they jogged along over the now rough trail and, after a ride of thirty miles, came to Taos, where they were once more safe from the perils that had so recently surrounded them, and where they were well provided for by kind friends.

Rio Colorado, or Red River settlement, is, next to Taos, the oldest town in northern New Mexico. It is located on a small stream of the same name, which flows into the Rio Grande. The town itself contains some two or three hundred inhabitants, and occupies rather a pretty site, being built on a high bank, while between it and the river there is a large strip of bottom land, which is under cultivation.

The scenery about is picturesque, embracing lofty and bold mountains, beautiful wood-land and open prairies. The external appearance of the village is that of abject poverty; and, on entering it, one readily sees that his eyesight has not deceived him, but that his first impressions are fully realized. It was here that Fremont and his men found a haven of safety after meeting their trying reverses on the fourth exploring expedition. To them, the sight of this town must have been hailed with delight. In Red River there live two old trappers, who have long since been weaned from the habits and manners of civilization. These two men are Canadians, one of them notorious for the "yarns" he can spin; but as they are many of them past belief, they are listened to by the traveler as a help to pa.s.s the time while he is obliged to tarry in the place. A young English n.o.bleman who was on a visit of pleasure to the western country, once fell into this man's clutches, and, from the trapper's after boasting, we infer that he (the trapper) more than surpa.s.sed himself in story-telling. Among other things, he informed this n.o.bleman that he had once mastered a grizzly bear in a hand-to-hand fight by cramming a stick that was sharpened at both ends into the bear's mouth in such a way that the monster could not close his jaws, because it fastened and kept them open. Being asked by the n.o.bleman how large were the _hare_ in that vicinity of country, his answer was, that he had seen them of such a magnitude that one would be a load for a man, and that when strung across the hunter's shoulder, one part was sure to be dragging on the ground. He then boasted that he had killed a gra.s.shopper that, with his head cut off, weighed _six ounces_. Notwithstanding his love of talk, this old man had once been a brave and famous hunter; but no confidence could be placed in him, owing to his habituated want of regard for truth and honor; hence, he has long since been excluded from the companions.h.i.+p of the mountaineers. The English gentleman above spoken of was an experienced traveler, and therefore undoubtedly knew how to weigh the truth of his astonis.h.i.+ng information.

CHAPTER XIV.

Kit Carson reaches Home--Himself and Neighbors robbed by the Apaches--Major Grier goes in Pursuit of, and recaptures the stolen Stock--A Plot organized by White Men to murder two Santa Fe Traders for their Money--The Disclosure--Kit Carson goes to the Rescue of the Traders--The Camp of United States Recruits--Captain Ewell with twenty Men joins Kit Carson and they two make the Arrest of Fox--Grat.i.tude expressed by the Traders--Money offered but refused--The Prisoner taken to Taos and incarcerated--Kit Carson receives a magnificent Pair of Revolvers as a Present from the grateful Traders--The return to Rayado--A Trading Expedition to the United States--The return Journey--An Encounter with the Cheyenne Indians--A State of Suspense--The Deliverance from Danger by a Message sent by a Mexican Runner--The arrival at Rayado.

After finis.h.i.+ng the pleasant visit which he was thus enabled to make, while recruiting himself among the good people of Taos, Kit Carson bent his way to his home at Rayado. He safely reached there and had but just dismounted at his own door, when he was informed of a recent calamity that had befallen himself and neighbors during his absence.

It was the old story, viz. that the Indians had come in and boldly stole all the animals belonging to the settlement--At the time this depredation had been committed, there was a small detachment of United States troops stationed in the place, but the soldiers were too few in number to attempt a rescue of the property from the savages.

The latter had visited the little town with a strong force on this occasion; the settlers, therefore, made application to the commanding officer of the territory, who promptly dispatched Major Grier with a command of dragoons to hunt up the guilty parties and punish them.

This the major did and was so fortunate as to recover nearly all of the stolen stock which he had the satisfaction of returning to its owners.

Kit Carson remained through the following summer months at his ranche at Rayado, busying himself in efforts to improve his house and lands.

In his employment Kit Carson had several faithful Mexicans. His task was to superintend their labors, which occupied only a part of his time. When anything required it he lent a hand to a.s.sist them; but, these men had to be provided with provisions which, to purchase in those distant parts, would have entailed a great item of expense; indeed, more than equal to the profits arising from their labor.

Therefore, a certain amount of time had to be set apart for hunting, which kind of employment he truly enjoyed. Mounted on a fine horse, with his faithful gun and dog, early each day, he would start out on the prairies to engage in the chase. In a few hours he would return on foot, with his n.o.ble hunter loaded down with choice game. Sometimes it would be antelope or elk; on another occasion, it would consist of black tailed deer, which are celebrated as being the largest and the finest species of venison that roam the forests of any country and are only to be found in the Rocky Mountains; on another, wild-turkeys; and then mountain grouse and prairie chickens helped to complete the load.