Books: The Life of Kit Carson

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It was yet early in the evening when one of the dogs belonging to
the camp began barking. A score of causes might have caused this
but Carson believed the incitement in that instance was the one
most dreaded. Several men were added to the guard and the rest lay
down, too uneasy to gain much slumber, however.

The trappers were right in their suspicion that savages were near
but they could not have failed to note what precautions had been
taken by the whites against surprise and they withdrew without
molesting them. The party were in a beaver country, and Carson and
three of his men went up the stream some distance to learn whether
it was worth their while to set the traps.

They had not been gone long when a party of Indians, who were probably
awaiting such an opportunity, charged upon the camp and drove off
all the loose horses. Four of the hunters instantly saddled the
swiftest of those remaining and started in hot pursuit. So hot indeed
was the pursuit that they speedily came up with the marauders and
opened a running fight. One of the hunters was badly wounded, while
a warrior was shot from his horse pitching headlong to the earth
with a screech of agony. The remaining ones were pressed so hard
that they were glad enough to abandon the property which came
back to the rightful owners, probably before an animal was able to
comprehend what had taken place.

The promptness and daring of the hunters had prevented a serious
loss, and though one of their number was severely hurt, his wound
was not mortal. It may be said that he suffered much but fully
recovered in time. Men with such iron constitutions and rugged frames
rallied from injuries that would have swept off those accustomed
to less stirring lives.

Having righted matters, so far as possible, the trappers picketed
their horses and awaited the return of Carson and his companions.
They were much disturbed by fears for their safety, as in truth
they had good cause to be.

CHAPTER VII.

An Unexpected Meeting -- The Ambush -- A Daring and Perilous Ride
-- Return to Camp -- Disappointments -- The Beaver.

Meanwhile the Indians made it exceedingly lively for Kit Carson
and his three companions.

The latter had heard so much of the abundance of beavers in a
certain section that they determined to visit it and make a thorough
exploration. To do this, it was necessary to ride over a lofty Rocky
Mountain peak or take many hours to pass around it. Very naturally
they concluded to "cut across lots," confident of their ability to
take care of themselves, no matter what danger threatened.

The ascent proved very exhausting to men and animals, for the
trappers did not compel the weary beasts to bear them up the steep
slope where it tired them to force their own way. They rested many
times, but finally accomplished the ascent and passed over into
the valley beyond. There, disappointment awaited them. The most
careful search failed to show the first sign of a beaver and they
had their labor for their pains. The toil of climbing the mountain
peak was so severe that the hunters concluded to take the longer
route home. Their steeds had been pushed so hard, that they were
permitted to set their own pace on the return. This naturally enough
was a deliberate walk, while their riders talked, laughed, jested
and occasionally made some remark on the magnificent scenery by
which they were surrounded. There was no call for haste, and they
knew nothing of what had taken place in camp after their departure;
otherwise, they might have felt more impatience to rejoin their
friends.

All at once, the hunters descried four Indian warriors in the path
in front. They were splendidly mounted, their hair ornamented with
stained eagle feathers, their ugly countenances daubed with yellow,
black and crimson paint, and they were fully armed. Their appearance
showed they were on the war path.

Such undoubtedly being the case, a sight of the braves was a challenge
to the hunters who accepted it without a second's hesitation.

Pausing not a moment to consult on their plan of action, Kit and
his companions spurred their horses to a dead run, with the purpose
of bringing them within range of their rifles, but the steeds of
the dusky foes were fleet of foot and they sped away like the wind.

The pursuit was a furious one, until the flying fugitives shot by a
hill, when more than fifty warriors similarly mounted and accoutred,
dashed out to intercept the enthusiastic hunters. Just then it
dawned upon Kit and his companions that the whole proceeding was
a trap arranged by the Indians into which he and his friends had
dashed at headlong speed.

It was in such crises that Kit Carson displayed his marvelous
resources and lightning-like perception of the best course to adopt.
The discovery of the ambush would have thrown almost any company of
men, no matter how brave into a panic, or at least into temporary
confusion which would have been equally disastrous. Most probably
they would have reined up or wheeled about and fled in the opposite
direction. The whole band would have dashed in pursuit and the
running fight between four men and more than twelve times their
number, every one of whom it is fair to presume was thoroughly
familiar with the country, could have resulted in but one way.
Skilled and daring as were Carson and his comrades, they could not
accomplish the impossible, as they would have had to do in order
to escape the yelling band behind them.

Kit was slightly in advance of the others, and he did not check his
animal in the least. On the contrary, he urged him to his utmost,
and the four sped straight ahead on a dead run, seemingly as if
they meant to charge the entire war party.

Such, however, was not their intention: they shied off as much as
they could, and, throwing themselves forward and over the side of
their horses, ran the terrible gauntlet. No one of the trappers
fired a shot, for if dismounted by the bullets of their enemies,
each wished to have his loaded rifle in hand, with which to make
his last defense.

The very audacity of the movement amazed the Indians. By the time
they comprehended what the white men were doing, they were thundering
in front of them. Then the warriors opened fire, and the bullets
whistled about the horses and riders, who kept their steeds to the
highest bent and finally passed beyond danger -- their escape one
of the most extraordinary on record.

The Indians did not pursue the hunters, two of whom had been struck
by their bullets, and Carson and his friends drew their horses
down to a more moderate pace. The great scout admitted that he was
never more utterly deceived and entrapped by the red man in all
his life. But he saw in the occurrence a deeper significance than
appeared on the surface. The ambush into which he and his friends
had been led was only a part of the campaign against the entire
party, who, weakened by the absence of Carson and his companions
were likely to fall victims to such a large band of warriors.
Trembling with fear for their comrades, they again forced their
animals to a high speed and lost no time in making their way back
to camp. They found everything in good shape, much to their relief,
and were not at all surprised to learn of the visit that had been
made by the savages during the absence of Kit and his companions.

The wounds of the two trappers who were shot while running the fiery
gauntlet, were found to be of such a serious nature that the party
had not gone far when they were obliged to go into camp again.
One of them especially, was in such a bad way that it was found
necessary to carry him on a litter until the main camp was reached.
There he was allowed to rest and everything possible was done
to make him comfortable. When he had fully recovered, the entire
company headed for Old Park, once famous on account of the immense
numbers of beavers found there. Disappointment, however, awaited
them, for other trappers had preceded them, and made such thorough
work that it was useless for the last arrivals to unload and set
their traps.

The party visited other sections but in every instance they
appeared to be "a day too late for the fair;" the beaver runs had
been worked so thoroughly by others that it was useless for them
to expect success.

The beaver, as the reader probably knows, aside from its great value
in producing fur and perfume, possesses a most wonderful instinct.
They live in communities and prefer to build their houses by small
clear rivers and creeks or close to springs. Sometimes they are
found on the banks of lakes.

The dams which they construct with the skill of a professional
civil engineer, are built for the purpose of making sure of a full
supply of water at all times and seasons. These dams are composed
of stones, mud and tree branches, the base being ten or twelve feet
in thickness sloping gradually upward to the summit.

In building their dams, the beaver does not thrust the ends of the
stakes into the bed of the river, but lays them down horizontally,
holding them in place by piling mud and stones upon them. The logs
which compose the dams are mostly from six to eight inches in
diameter, though some have been found nearly two feet through. The
enormous number of such logs used may be imagined perhaps, when
the ponderous character of the dams is remembered, and when it is
stated that some of them are more than an eighth of a mile wide.
Every log, after being gnawed off the proper length, is stripped
of its bark which is stored away for use as food during the winter.

The lodges of the beavers are composed principally of mud, moss and
branches, circular in shape, the space within being seven feet in
width and about half as high. The walls are so thick that on the
outside the corresponding dimensions are nearly three times as
great as within. The roof is finished off with a thick layer of
mud, laid on with wonderful smoothness and renewed every year. The
severe frosts of winter freeze the lodge into such a solid structure
that the beaver is safe against the wolverine, which is unable to
break through the wall, resembling the adobe structures found in
Mexico and the Southwest. Even the trapper who attempts to demolish
one of the structures finds it tiresome labor, even with the help
of iron implements.

The beavers excavate a ditch around their lodges too deep to be
frozen. Into this opens all their dwellings, the door being far
below the surface, so that free ingress and egress are secured.

The half dozen beavers occupying a lodge arrange their beds
against the wall, each separate from the other, while the centre
of the chamber is unoccupied. During summer they secure their stock
of food by gnawing down hundreds of trees, the trunks or limbs of
which are sunk and fastened in some peculiar manner to the bottom
of the stream. During the winter when the beaver feels hungry, he
dives down, brings up one of the logs, drags it to a suitable spot
and nibbles off the bark.

It is impossible fully to understand how this remarkable animal
does its work, for as it never toils in the day time, it is out of
the power of any one to watch its method.

The peculiar odoriferous substance, secreted in two glandular sacs
near the root of the tail, is "castoreum," more generally known as
"bark stone" among the trappers. The odor is powerful and is so
attractive to the animals themselves, that the trapper has only
to smear some of it near the trap which is hidden under water. Any
beaver which catches the scent, is sure to hasten to the spot and
is almost certain to be caught in the trap.

CHAPTER VIII.

Carson and two Companions set out on a Trapping Expedition of Their
Own -- They Meet With Great Success -- Is Engaged by Captain Lee
-- Carson's Pursuit of an Indian Thief.

Kit Carson finally grew tired of wandering over the country without
gaining sight of a beaver. He proposed to two of his companions
that they start on a private expedition of their own. They were as
disgusted as he and eagerly agreed to the proposition.

The employers of the men commended the enterprise of the little
company and gave them their best wishes. Cordial farewells were
exchanged all around, and Kit and his comrades left the camp on
their perilous errand.

On this occasion, as on innumerable other ones, Carson showed most
excellent judgment. His scheme was to keep entirely to the streams
never once venturing upon the plains. Several advantages were likely
to flow from this course. During the summer season the mountain
Indians generally placed their women and children in charge of the
old men and a few warriors and came down from their retreats to
engage in hunting bison or in marching on the war path. Occasionally
they are at peace with the Indians of the plains, which was a bad
thing for the Mexican settlements, for they left a track of desolation
among them.

Few of the trappers ventured far into the mountains, where game was
abundant, so that Carson was confident of finding plenty of beavers.
In this he was not mistaken. The fur bearing animals seemed to be
overrunning the country, while the Indians acted not only as if
unaware of the fact but as if entirely ignorant of the little party
of visitors, who, making hay while the sun shines, were not long
in finding themselves with as large a supply as they could carry
home.

This was the ordeal more to be dreaded than all the others. While
on their way to the beaver runs, they had nothing to do beyond taking
care of themselves; but now their valuable peltries were liable to
be captured by the Indians, who could compel their abandonment by
pressing the owners hard.

But extreme and altogether unexpected good fortune attended them,
and they reached Taos, without receiving a scratch or losing a fur.
They found on arriving at that quaint town, that there was great
demand for peltries and prices were correspondingly high. They
sold out their stock for a very liberal price, and Kit's friend,
despite his advice, went on a carousal which soon squandered all
their hard earned wages. Kit himself, however, had not lost the
lesson he learned under somewhat similar circumstances, and he laid
away his funds, against the proverbial rainy day.

By this time the character of Carson was fairly formed. He was
resolute, self reliant, sober, thoughtful, cool headed, wonderfully
quick to grasp all the points of a situation, chivalrous, agile as
a panther, a perfect master of woodcraft, and withal, charmingly
modest.

While Carson was in Taos, waiting for some favorable opening to
present itself, he met Captain Lee, formerly of the United States
Army, but who was then a member of the firm of Bent and St. Vrain,
engaged for so many years in furnishing supplies to those who
visited the mountains and plains. Captain Lee at that time was
thus employed and knowing the value of a man like Carson, he made
him so liberal an offer that he accepted it on the spot.

In the Autumn of 1832, with a train of mules loaded with such goods
as were needed by trappers, Captain Lee, Carson and a number of
men started northward to find their purchasers. They followed the
well worn mule path leading from New Mexico to California and which
had been known for years as the "Old Spanish Trail."

They reached White River without mishap, and made their way down it
until Green River was forded, when they struck across the country
to Winty River, where they came upon a party of twenty hunters, who
were engaged in trading and trapping as opportunity offered. They
affiliated at once, for there is something in the presence of a
common danger which draws men closely together.

The weather became very cold and snow began to fall. It was decided,
therefore, to go into winter quarters near the mouth of Winty River.
There they erected skin lodges, such as are used by many tribes of
American Indians, and were content to wait the coming of spring.

The skill and address of Carson seemed to create a call for his
services, no matter where he happened to be, and it was not long
before he became involved in a most remarkable adventure.

Among the employees of the other party, was a shrewd civilized
Indian, who was held in high regard by the whites on account of
his native keenness, and who stood well in the confidence of his
employer; but one day he disappeared, simultaneously with several
of the very best horses. The circumstances were such that there
could be no doubt the two occurrences were inseparably connected.

The loss was too serious to be borne, and the angered leader of
the other company (though he had not the least claim upon young
Carson), appealed to him to help him to recover his property. Carson
said he was perfectly willing, provided Captain Lee would give his
consent, and as the Captain was more willing to help his friend,
he directed Carson to do as he saw fit.

The matchless hunter made sure his weapons were in the best order,
and, mounting one of the fleetest horses in camp, he waved a merry
farewell to his friends and galloped off. He had not ridden far
when he turned off toward an Indian village, whose people were on
friendly terms with the hunters, and, riding directly among the red
men, whose lingo he understood, he asked for one of their bravest
warriors to join him in hunting down a California Indian that had
run off with their best horses.

Such a request coming from any other hunter would have received
little notice; but those dusky barbarians not only knew Carson by
name, but looked upon him as the greatest white warrior they had
ever seen. He could have secured a score of braves had he wanted
them, but he desired only one -- a sinewy, daring fellow whom he
knew could be relied on in any emergency. This Indian required no
more time than Carson himself to make ready, and, shortly after
Kit's arrival in the village, he rode forth again with his faithful
friend at his elbow.

It was impossible for the thief to conceal the trail of the stolen
horses and he made no attempt to do so. A slight examination showed
the pursuers that it led down the Green River, the general course
being such that Carson was confident the thief was making for
California -- a long distance away.

As the fugitive was well mounted and all his horses were fleet, and
as he must have been quite certain he would be pursued, he lost no
time on the road. The trail showed he was going at a full gallop,
and, under the most favorable circumstances, the chase was sure to
be a long one.

CHAPTER IX

A Hot Pursuit -- An Unexpected Calamity -- Carson Continues the
Chase Alone -- The Result.

Everything now depended on speed. Not only was the dusky thief
pushing his animals to the utmost, but Kit Carson knew he would
give them little rest night or day. He was familiar with the route
to California and the pursuit would be no child's play.

There could be no doubt, however, of the destination of the redskin,
and Carson and his brave warrior were equally persistent with their
horses. The ground flew beneath their hoofs. Across the stretch of
prairie, along the bank of the rushing streams, around the rocks,
over mountains, through torrents, they forced their way, with no
thought of turning back or checking the speed of their animals.
Occasionally the bright eyes of the pursuers glanced at the ground
in front, when the displaced gravel or the indentation in the soft
earth showed they had not lost the trail.

In this headlong fashion the friends galloped forward until they had
placed a full hundred miles behind them. They were a long distance
from home and camp, but in spite of the speed of the fugitive, Carson
was confident they had gained considerably upon him. If everything
went well, they ought to catch sight of him on the morrow. At this
juncture, when the prospect was so encouraging, an unlooked for
calamity occurred.

Carson's steed stood the great strain admirably, but the one
bestrode by the Indian succumbed. He suddenly slackened his pace,
staggered and trembled so violently, that, when the warrior leaped
from his back, he saw he was fearfully ill. If he did not die, he
would not recover for hours and even then could not be forced hard.

Carson contemplated the situation with dismay. He had not counted
on anything like this, and the help of the Indian was beyond all
price to him. He was unusually strong, active and experienced, and
would not hesitate to attack any person single handed.

Seeing the condition of the exhausted steed, Kit proposed to his
dusky companion that he should abandon him and continue the pursuit
on foot, but the brave shook his head. He was equal to the exploit
of running ten or twenty miles at a high pace, but a great deal
more was likely to be required and he needed all his powers when the
shock of the battle should come. He not only refused to continue the
chase, but, knowing the character of the thief, tried to dissuade
Carson from going further. They had certainly done all that could
be asked of them and no one could find fault if, in the face of
such difficulty, they should withdraw and return to their friends.

"No," said Carson, "I have set out to recover those horses and
nothing shall turn me back. I am sorry to lose you, but it can't
be helped; so good bye and good luck attend you."

And putting spurs to his steed, he dashed over the trail with
compressed lips and flashing eye, determined on running down the
fugitive if he had to follow him to the bank of the Pacific itself.
This single act of the famous mountaineer shows his character in
its true light.

In the first place, it must be remembered that Kit Carson was a
man of slight figure and was never noted for his strength. Many of
his companions were much more powerful, though none was so quick and
active in his movements. His wonderful success lay in his coolness,
agility, skill and bravery, which never "overleaped itself." As we
have stated, he was below the medium stature, and never could have
attained a tithe of his renown, had his muscular strength formed
a necessary part of his requirements.

On the other hand, the Indian thief whom he was pursuing, was
exceptionally powerful, athletic and one of the most desperate men
on the whole frontier. He cared nothing for Carson, nor for any
single member of the company he had left. He would expect pursuit
and would be on the watch for it. Whenever he caught sight of those
who were seeking him, he would not abandon the horses and flee.
Far from it: he would stand his ground, and if his booty should
be wrested from him the men who did it would be compelled to the
fiercest kind of fight. He would not run from the attack of two or
three persons: much less from one of the most insignificant men in
the entire company.

The course of Carson illustrated another marked feature of
his character -- that of loyalty to his friends and resolution in
carrying through any task he undertook. Where scarcely one man in a
multitude would have pushed forward, he advanced without hesitation.
He deliberately resolved to attack a fierce criminal who was as fully
armed as he, as daring and perfect in his knowledge of woodcraft,
and much his superior in strength.

Carson had proven the mettle of his steed, and he now showed him
no mercy. The trail indicated he was gaining rapidly and he was
anxious to force matters to an issue before night. Among the horses
the Indian was running off were one or two whose endurance was less
than the others. Their tardiness moderated the pace of the rest,
and thus gave Kit a chance of lessening the distance between him
and the fugitive.

At the end of the ten miles he scanned the ground in front, but
nothing was seen of the thief or his horses; but the hoof prints
were fresh and the scout knew he was closer to him than at any
time since the chase began. The flanks of his steed shone with
perspiration and froth, but it would not do to lag now. The lips
were compressed and the gray eye flashed fire as before.

Ten more miles were speedily thrown behind him, and he knew he was
not far from the dusky desperado, who doubtless was continually
glancing backward in quest of pursuers; but the keen vision which
swept around every portion of the visible horizon, discovered no
sign of the thief.

Carson anticipated some attempt on the part of the fugitive to
confuse pursuit and he, therefore, watched the hoof prints more
closely than ever. The eagle eye continually glanced from the ground
to the country in front, and then to the right and left. Nothing
escaped his vision, but when his foamy steed had thundered over
another ten miles the fugitive was still beyond sight.

"He can't be far off," was the thought of Carson, "I'm bound to
overtake him before long."

At that moment, he caught sight of the Indian galloping leisurely
forward, amid the stolen horses. The cunning savage, as the scout
had suspected, was constantly on the alert, and detected Carson
the same moment that he himself was discovered. Quick as a flash,
he leaped from the back of his horses and started on a swift run for
a clump of trees between him and his pursuer. The latter understood
his purpose on the instant. If the Indian could secure the shelter
of the grove, he would have his enemy at his mercy; for not only
would he be able to protect his body, while loading and firing,
but Carson himself, being in an open space, would be without the
slightest protection against his deadly aim.

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