Books: The Life of Kit Carson
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Edward S. Ellis >> The Life of Kit Carson
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"Tonight we had no shelter, but we made a large fire around the
trunk of one of the huge pines; and covering the snow with small
boughs, on which we spread our blankets, soon made ourselves
comfortable. The night was very bright and clear, though the
thermometer was only at 10 degrees. A strong wind which sprang up
at sundown, made it intensely cold; and this was one of the bitterest
nights during the journey.
"Two Indians joined our party here; and one of them, an old man,
immediately began to harangue us, saying that ourselves and animals
would perish in the snow; and that, if we would go back, he would
show us another and a better way across the mountain. He spoke in
a very loud voice, and there was a singular repetition of phrases
and arrangement of words, which rendered his speech striking, and
not unmusical.
"We had now begun to understand some words, and, with the aid of
signs, easily comprehended the old man's simple ideas. 'Rock upon
rock -- rock upon rock -- snow upon snow -- snow upon snow,' said
he; 'even if you get over the snow, you will not be able to get
down from the mountains.' He made us the sign of precipices, and
showed us how the feet of the horses would slip, and throw them
off from the narrow trails led along their sides. Our Chinook, who
comprehended even more readily than ourselves, and believed our
situation hopeless, covered his head with his blanket, and began
to weep and lament. 'I wanted to see the whites,' said he; 'I came
away from my own people to see the whites, and I wouldn't care to
die among them; but here' -- and he looked around into the cold
night and gloomy forest, and, drawing his blanket over his head,
began again to lament.
"Seated around the tree, the fire illuminating the rocks and the
tall boils of the pines round about, and the old Indian haranguing,
we presented a group of very serious faces.
"February 5. -- The night had been too cold to sleep, and we were
up very early. Our guide was standing by the fire with all his finery
on; and seeing him shiver in the cold, I threw on his shoulders one
of my blankets. We missed him a few minutes afterwards, and never
saw him again. He had deserted. His bad faith and treachery were
in perfect keeping with the estimate of Indian character, which
a long intercourse with this people had gradually forced upon my
mind.
"While a portion of the camp were occupied in bringing up the
baggage to this point, the remainder were busied in making sledges
and snowshoes. I had determined to explore the mountain ahead, and
the sledges were to be used in transporting the baggage.
"Crossing the open basin, in a march of about ten miles we reached
the top of one of the peaks, to the left of the pass indicated
by our guide. Far below us, dimmed by the distance, was a large,
snowless valley, bounded on the western side, at the distance of
about a hundred miles, by a low range of mountains, which Carson
recognized with delight as the mountains bordering the coast.
'There,' said he, 'is the little mountain -- it is fifteen years
ago since I saw it; but I am just as sure as if I had seen it
yesterday.' Between us, then, and this low coast range, was the
valley of the Sacramento; and no one who had not accompanied us
through the incidents of our life for the last few months, could
realize the delight with which at last we looked down upon it. At
the distance of apparently thirty miles beyond us were distinguished
spots of prairie; and a dark line, which could be traced with the
glass, was imagined to be the course of the river; but we were
evidently at a great height above the valley, and between us and
the plains extended miles of snowy fields and broken ridges of pine
covered mountains.
"It was late in the day when we turned towards the camp; and it
grew rapidly cold as it drew towards night. One of the men became
fatigued and his feet began to freeze, and building a fire in the
trunk of a dry old cedar, Mr. Fitzpatrick remained with him until
his clothes could be dried, and he was in a condition to come on.
After a day's march of twenty miles, we straggled into camp, one
after another, at nightfall; the greater number excessively fatigued,
only two of the party having ever travelled on snowshoes before.
"All our energies were now directed to getting our animals across
the snow; and it was supposed that, after all the baggage had been
drawn with the sleighs over the trail we had made, it would be
sufficiently hard to bear our animals.
"At several places, between this point and the ridge, we had
discovered some grassy spots, where the wind and sun had dispersed
the snow from the sides of the hills, and these were to form resting
place to support the animals for a night in their passage across.
On our way across, we had set on fire several broken stumps and
dried trees, to melt holes in the snow for the camp. Its general
depth was five feet; but we passed over places where it was twenty
feet deep, as shown by the trees.
"With one party drawing sleighs loaded with baggage, I advanced
today about four miles along the trail, and encamped at the first
grassy spot, where we expected to bring our horses. Mr. Fitzpatrick,
with another party, remained behind, to form an intermediate station
between us and the animals.
"Putting on our snowshoes, we spent the afternoon in exploring
a road ahead. The glare of the snow, combined with great fatigue,
had rendered many of the people nearly blind; but we were fortunate
in having some black silk handkerchiefs, which, worn as veils, very
much relieved the eye.
"In the evening I received a message from Mr. Fitzpatrick, acquainting me
with the utter failure of his attempt to get our mules and horses
over the snow -- the half hidden trail had proved entirely too slight
to support them, and they had broken through, and were plunging
about or lying half buried in snow. He was occupied in endeavoring
to get them back to his camp; and in the mean time sent to me for
further instructions. I wrote to him to send the animals immediately
back to their old pastures; and, after having made mauls and
shovels, turn in all the strength of his party to open and beat a
road through the snow, strengthening it with branches and boughs
of the pines.
"February 12. -- We made mauls, and worked hard at our end of the
road all the day. The wind was high, but the sun bright, and the
snow thawing. We worked down the face of the hill, to meet the
people at the other end. Towards sundown it began to grow cold,
and we shouldered our mauls, and trudged back to camp.
"February 13. -- We continued to labor on the road; and in the
course of the day had the satisfaction to see the people working
down the face of the opposite hill, about three miles distant. During
the morning we had the pleasure of a visit from Mr. Fitzpatrick,
with the information that all was going on well. A party of Indians
had passed on snowshoes, who said they were going to the western
side of the mountain after fish. This was an indication that the
salmon were coming up the streams; and we could hardly restrain our
impatience as we thought of them, and worked with increased vigor.
"I was now perfectly satisfied that we had struck the stream on
which Mr. Sutter lived, and turning about, made a hard push, and
reached the camp at dark. Here we had the pleasure to find all
the remaining animals, fifty-seven in number, safely arrived at
the grassy hill near the camp; and here, also, we were agreeably
surprised with the sight of an abundance of salt. Some of the horse
guard had gone to a neighboring hut for pine nuts, and discovered
unexpectedly a large cake of very white fine grained salt, which
the Indians told them they had brought from the other side of the
mountain; they used it to eat with their pine nuts, and readily
sold it for goods.
"On the 19th, the people were occupied in making a road and bringing
up the baggage; and, on the afternoon of the next day, February 20,
1844, we encamped with all the materiel of the camp, on the summit
of the pass in the dividing ridge, 1,000 miles by our travelled
road from the Dalles of the Columbia.
"February 21. -- We now considered ourselves victorious over the
mountain; having only the descent before us, and the valley under
our eyes, we felt strong hope that we should force our way down.
But this was a case in which the descent was not facile. Still,
deep fields of snow lay between, and there was a large intervening
space of rough looking mountains, through which we had yet to wind
our way. Carson roused me this morning with an early fire, and
we were all up long before day, in order to pass the snow fields
before the sun should render the crust soft. We enjoyed this morning
a scene at sunrise, which, even here, was unusually glorious and
beautiful. Immediately above the eastern mountains was repeated
a cloud formed mass of purple ranges, bordered with bright yellow
gold; the peaks shot up into a narrow line of crimson cloud, above
which the air was filled with a greenish orange; and over all was
the singular beauty of the blue sky. Passing along a ridge which
commanded the lake on our right, of which we began to discover an
outlet through a chasm on the west, we passed over alternating open
ground and hard crusted snow fields which supported the animals,
and encamped on the ridge after a journey of six miles. The grass
was better than we had yet seen, and we were encamped in a clump
of trees, twenty or thirty feet high, resembling white pine."
CHAPTER XXIV.
Continuation of Fremont's Account of the Passage Through the
Mountains.
"We had hard and doubtful labor yet before us, as the snow appeared
to be heavier where the timber began further down, with few open
spots. Ascending a height, we traced out the best line we could
discover for the next day's march, and had at least the consolation
to see that the mountain descended rapidly. The day had been one
of April; gusty, with a few occasional flakes of snow; which, in
the afternoon enveloped the upper mountains in clouds. We watched
them anxiously, as now we dreaded a snow storm. Shortly afterwards
we heard the roll of thunder, and looking toward the valley, found
it all enveloped in a thunderstorm. For us, as connected with the
idea of summer, it had a singular charm; and we watched its progress
with excited feelings until nearly sunset, when the sky cleared off
brightly, and we saw a shining line of water directing its course
towards another, a broader and larger sheet. We knew that these
could be no other than the Sacramento and the bay of San Francisco;
but, after our long wandering in rugged mountains, where so frequently
we had met with disappointments, and where the crossing of every
ridge displayed some unknown lake or river, we were yet almost
afraid to believe that we were at last to escape into the genial
country of which we have heard so many glowing descriptions, and
dreaded again to find some vast interior lake, whose bitter waters
would bring us disappointment. On the southern shore of what
appeared to be the bay, could be traced the gleaming line where
entered another large stream; and again the Buenaventura rose up
in our mind.
"Carson had entered the valley along the southern side of the bay,
but the country then was so entirely covered with water from snow
and rain, that he had been able to form no correct impression of
watercourses.
"We had the satisfaction to know that at least there were people
below. Fires were lit up in the valley just at night, appearing
to be in answer to ours; and these signs of life renewed, in
some measure, the gayety of the camp. They appeared so near, that
we judged them to be among the timber of some of the neighboring
ridges; but, having them constantly in view day after day, and
night after night, we afterwards found them to be fires that had
been kindled by the Indians among the tulares, on the shore of the
bay, eighty miles distant.
"Axes and mauls were necessary today to make a road through the
snow. Going ahead with Carson to reconnoitre the road, we reached
in the afternoon the river which made the outlet of the lake. Carson
sprang over, clear across a place where the stream was compressed
among rocks, but the parfleche sole of my moccasin glanced from
the icy rock, and precipitated me into the river. It was some few
seconds before I could recover myself in the current, and Carson,
thinking me hurt, jumped in after me, and we both had an icy bath.
We tried to search a while for my gun, which had been lost in the
fall, but the cold drove us out; and making a large fire on the
bank, after we had partially dried ourselves we went back to meet
the camp. We afterwards found that the gun had been slung under
the ice which lined the banks of the creek.
"The sky was clear and pure, with a sharp wind from the northeast,
and the thermometer 20 below the freezing point.
"We continued down the south face of the mountain; our road leading
over dry ground, we were able to avoid the snow almost entirely.
In the course of the morning we struck a foot path, which we were
generally able to keep; and the ground was soft to our animals
feet, being sandy or covered with mould. Green grass began to make
its appearance, and occasionally we passed a hill scatteringly
covered with it. The character of the forest continued the same;
and, among the trees, the pine with sharp leaves and very large
cones was abundant, some of them being noble trees. We measured
one that had ten feet diameter, though the height was not more than
one hundred and thirty feet. All along, the river was a roaring
torrent, its fall very great; and, descending with a rapidity to
which we had long been strangers, to our great pleasure oak trees
appeared on the ridge, and soon became very frequent; on these I
remarked unusually great quantities of mistletoe.
"The opposite mountain side was very steep and continuous -- unbroken
by ravines, and covered with pines and snow; while on the side we
were travelling, innumerable rivulets poured down from the ridge.
Continuing on, we halted a moment at one of these rivulets, to
admire some beautiful evergreen trees, resembling live oak, which
shaded the little stream. They were forty to fifty feet high, and
two in diameter, with a uniform tufted top; and the summer green
of their beautiful foliage, with the singing birds, and the sweet
summer wind which was whirling about the dry oak leaves, nearly
intoxicated us with delight; and we hurried on, filled with excitement,
to escape entirely from the horrid region of inhospitable snow, to
the perpetual spring of the Sacramento.
"February 25. -- Believing that the difficulties of the road
were passed, and leaving Mr. Fitzpatrick to follow slowly, as the
condition of the animals required, I started ahead this morning with
a party of eight, consisting (with myself) of Mr. Preuss, and Mr.
Talbot, Carson, Derosier, Towns, Proue, and Jacob. We took with
us some of the best animals, and my intention was to proceed as
rapidly as possible to the house of Mr. Sutter, and return to meet
the party with a supply of provisions and fresh animals.
"Near night fall we descended into the steep ravine of a handsome
creek thirty feet wide, and I was engaged in getting the horses up
the opposite hill, when I heard a shout from Carson, who had gone
ahead a few hundred yards. 'Life yet,' said he, as he came up,
'life yet; I have found a hillside sprinkled with grass enough for
the night.' We drove along our horses, and encamped at the place
about dark, and there was just room enough to make a place for
shelter on the edge of the stream. Three horses were lost today --
Proveau; a fine young horse from the Columbia, belonging to Charles
Towns; and another Indian horse which carried our cooking utensils;
the two former gave out, and the latter strayed off into the woods
as we reached the camp: and Derosier knowing my attachment to
Proveau, volunteered to go and bring him in.
"Carson and I climbed one of the nearest mountains; the forest land
still extended ahead, and the valley appeared as far as ever. The
pack horse was found near the camp, but Derosier did not get in.
"We began to be uneasy at Derosier's absence, fearing he might
have been bewildered in the woods. Charles Towns, who had not yet
recovered his mind, went to swim in the river, as if it was summer,
and the stream placid, when it was a cold mountain torrent foaming
among the rocks. We were happy to see Derosier appear in the evening.
He came in, and sitting down by the fire, began to tell us where
he had been. He imagined he had been gone several days, and thought
we were still at the camp where he had left us; and we were pained
to see that his mind was deranged. It appeared that he had been
lost in the mountain, and hunger and fatigue, joined to weakness
of body, and fear of perishing in the mountains had crazed him. The
times were severe when stout men lost their minds from extremity of
suffering -- when horses died -- and when mules and horses, ready
to die of starvation, were killed for food. Yet there was no
murmuring or hesitation. In the meantime Mr. Preuss continued on
down the river, and unaware that we had encamped so early in the
day, was lost. When night arrived and he did not come in, we began
to understand what had happened to him; but it was too late to make
any search.
"March 3. -- We followed Mr. Preuss's trail for a considerable
distance along the river, until we reached a place where he had
descended to the stream below and encamped. Here we shouted and
fired guns, but received no answer; and we concluded that he had
pushed on down the stream. I determined to keep out from the river,
along which it was nearly impracticable to travel with animals,
until it should form a valley. At every step the country improved
in beauty; the pines were rapidly disappearing, and oaks became
the principal trees of the forest. Among these, the prevailing tree
was the evergreen oak (which, by way of distinction, we shall call
the live oak); and with these, occurred frequently a new species
of oak, bearing a long, slender acorn, from an inch to an inch and
a half in length, which we now began to see formed the principal
vegetable food of the inhabitants of this region. In a short
distance we crossed a little rivulet, where were two old huts and
near by were heaps of acorn hulls. The ground round about was very
rich, covered with an exuberant sward of grass; and we sat down
for a while in the shade of the oaks to let the animals feed. We
repeated our shouts for Mr. Preuss; and this time we were gratified
with an answer. The voice grew rapidly nearer, ascending from the
river, but when we expected to see him emerge, it ceased entirely.
We had called up some straggling Indian -- the first we had met,
although for two days back we had seen tracks -- who, mistaking
us for his fellows, had been only undeceived by getting close up.
It would have been pleasant to witness his astonishment; he would
not have been more frightened had some of the old mountain spirits
they are so much afraid of suddenly appeared in his path. Ignorant
of the character of these people, we had now additional cause of
uneasiness in regard to Mr. Preuss; he had no arms with him, and
we began to think his chance doubtful. Occasionally we met deer,
but had not the necessary time for hunting. At one of these orchard
grounds, we encamped about noon to make an effort for Mr. Preuss.
One man took his way along a spur leading into the river, in
hope to cross his trail, and another took our own back. Both were
volunteers; and to the successful man was promised a pair of pistols
-- not as a reward, but as a token of gratitude for a service which
would free us all from much anxiety."
At the end of four days, Mr. Preuss surprised and delighted his
friends by walking into camp. He had lived on roots and acorns and
was in the last stages of exhaustion.
Shortly the advance party reached Sutter's Fort where they received
the most hospitable treatment. All their wants were abundantly
supplied, and provisions were sent back to Fitzpatrick and his
party.
CHAPTER XXV.
The Start Homeward -- The Visitors in Camp and Their Story -- Carson
and Godey Start to the Rescue -- Trailing the Enemy by Night -- In
Camp -- The Attack -- An Amazing Success -- The Return.
Fremont and his command remained at Sutter's Fort about a month,
when their preparations were completed for their return to the
States. They journeyed leisurely up the valley of the San Joaquin,
crossing over the Sierra Nevada and Coast Range by means of an
easily travelled pass. The latter chain was followed until they
came upon the Spanish trail, along which they passed to the Mohave
River. Where the Trail diverges from that stream, Carson became
involved in a characteristic adventure.
While in camp two Mexicans, a man and a boy, rode up and told
a sad story. They belonged to a party of Mexican traders from New
Mexico. Six of them, including two women who acted as cooks, were
left in charge of a band of horses while the rest were away, engaged
in barter. When endeavoring to find better grazing for their animals
and while the man and boy were on guard, they were attacked by
a band of thirty Indians. The warriors were after the horses and
their first demonstration was a flight of arrows. The only chance
of escape was to make off with the animals and the two started
them on a dead run straight toward the Indians. The charge was so
impetuous, that they forced their way through, and continued their
flight, while the warriors remained behind to massacre the others.
When the couple had gone a long distance, they left the horses and
turned back to look for their friends. While they were doing so,
they came upon Fremont's camp. When it is added that among those
who were left behind by the Mexicans, were the wife of the man
and the father and mother of the boy, their pitiful situation must
touch the hearts of all. They were overcome with grief, and Carson
was so stirred that he volunteered to go back with the couple and
help rescue their friends if alive, or punish the Indians, if it
should prove that they had been massacred.
Richard Godey, a mountaineer almost the equal with Carson, willingly
agreed to accompany him. The two were perfectly familiar with the
country, which was an immense advantage. When the Mexicans described
the spring, a long ways distant, where they had abandoned the horses
to hunt for their friends, Carson recalled its exact location. It
was about thirty miles away and he said that that was the point
toward which they must push with all speed.
Accordingly they turned the heads of their horses thither and struck
into a sweeping gallop, resting only when compelled to do so, and
reaching the spring at daylight the next morning. Not a horse was
visible, but an examination of the ground showed that the Indians
had followed the fleeing Mexicans and stock to the spring, where,
finding the animals, they had captured and driven them off in
another direction.
It seems like a piece of madness for three men to pursue ten times
as many Indian warriors; but the blood of Carson was up and he
told Godey it was too soon for them to turn back. The eyes of both
flashed, when they reflected upon the shameful outrage, and they
meant that the marauders should not get off scot free.
As the boy was only an incumbrance, he was left behind, and, taking
the trail of the warriors, the three put their horses to their
best, confident the chase would be a long one. On such occasions,
the red men are accustomed to travel a long distance before making
a halt. With so much booty in their hands, they were liable to
be set upon by others as savage as themselves, and they had every
cause, therefore, to get out of the country with the least possible
delay.
The three were riding in this furious fashion, when most unexpectedly
the steed of the Mexican gave out. A minute's examination showed
he was as thoroughly used up and useless as the horse of the Ute
Indian, years before, who started out with Kit to pursue the thief
that was running off with the animals. There was no course but to
leave the Mexican behind, for time was too precious to ride back
to camp after another horse. He, therefore was told to go back to
Fremont's camp and await their return.
The exploit of Carson and Godey, when calmly told, seems incredible.
There was no one in Fremont's command who would go with them, and
though they knew there were a score and a half of savage wild men
to encounter, they did not hesitate, but pressed their steeds to
the utmost, eager to join in the fierce hand to hand conflict.
When night shut in upon them, the Indians were not in sight and
the signs indicated they were a good many miles ahead. There was
no moon or stars and they could see only a few feet in advance of
their horses' ears, but it would not do to linger. If they should
go into camp, they would lose so much ground that pursuit was likely
to be hopeless.
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