CHAPTER IX.
Kit Carson concludes to become a Farmer—He is joined in the Enterprise by a Friend—They build a Ranche on the Cimeron River—Descriptions of Mexican Customs and Country—Fremont once more at Bent's Fort—Express sent for Kit Carson to join the Expedition as Guide—The Ranche Sold, and the Departure—The Third Expedition and its Explorations—Difficulties with the Mexican-Californians—General Castro's Orders to leave the Country—Determination to Fight—Fremont goes to Lawson's Fort—Fremont and his Men encounter a Thousand Indians—The Battle and the Victory—The news that War had been declared between the United States and Mexico reaches Fremont—Lieutenant Gillespie rescued from the Indians—Three of the party killed in the Night by Indians—The Savages repulsed—The Burial of Comrades.
In the early spring of 1845, Kit Carson, after weighing the various occupations which presented, decided to become a farmer. One of his mountaineer friends, Mr. Richard Owens, came to the same conclusion. Together they talked over their plans, and concluded that it would be to them, at least, newness of life to be domiciled in their own houses. The two hunters carefully marked out their plans, and then set to work with a will for success to carry them into execution. A very short time enabled them to choose a farming site, because their knowledge of the country enabled them to see all of its desirable localities, as it were at a glance. They decided to purchase a tract of wild land situated on the little Cimeron River, and improve it. Their arrangements were soon made, tools and implements, stock and animals, provisions and necessaries all procured. With the services of some laborers hired by them, they were soon engaged actively preparing their land for the reception of seed. The spot which they selected was forty-five miles east of Taos. They commenced the enterprise by building some small huts. These afforded both themselves and their Mexican laborers a comfortable lodgment. They sowed a considerable quantity of grain, and prepared timber almost sufficient to build good substantial houses. Their vigorously prosecuted labors began to show evident results, and in the prospect, it was clearly apparent that another year would serve to give them profitable reward for their enterprise.
It seems appropriate at this point, that we should enable the reader to look upon and judge of the farming country and habits of New Mexico; their markets, and some of the manners and customs of the people who dwell in cities. The town of Taos affords a fair sample of the markets, and as Kit Carson has many times been exhibited to the reader at that place, it is very proper that we should describe it.
The town of Taos is located in a valley called by the same name. The town consists of a series of villages, which are scattered, and are known to the Mexicans by various names. The main village is called Fernandez de Taos, and is located near the centre of the valley, on a high plateau of ground. The buildings here, as, indeed, in all the towns of New Mexico, are constructed of adobes, and are one story high, with what is usually known as flat roofs. These houses are huddled together without much regard being paid to streets. The main attraction of the town is the plaza, where all the business, such as marketing, etc., is carried on. It is here that the stores are located; and, on a fête day, or in business hours, it is thronged with Mexicans, Americans, and Indians. Among these there is a large per-centage of idlers. The houses are mostly covered with a white material, which is either chalk or lime. The church is the largest building in the town, and is a rough specimen of architecture, which is rudely finished within. It has a flat-sounding bell, propped up in a sort of a belfry. To make a noise on this, a piece of iron, or several stones are used; and, when an attempt at chiming is made, it is very laughable. The figures representing saints, and even the altar, are a strange compound of imitation. On the respective days set apart by the Catholic church for worship, marriages and fête services are carried on with a great attempt at pomp, but, under the circumstances, they leave no lasting impression of grandeur, save on the inhabitants, who have beheld nothing beyond their own country. The dignitary most respected in these towns is the Padre (or Priest), who is looked upon as sacred; and, when so inclined, this class of men have the power of accomplishing much good; but, oftentimes, they pervert this power, setting bad examples in their mode of life, and offering wicked counsel. However, under the management of the present bishop, who is a very exemplary man, these things are being changed. The old Priests of New Mexico were formerly educated in Old Mexico. Their information was very imperfect, and their minds were contracted down to extreme narrowness, from want of observation; hence, they were the means of retarding the natural progress of the people. It cannot be denied but that the Catholic religion has been the pioneer system in the far West, and that, in the hands of good and pure men, it has done much praiseworthy work, and has set an example which other creeds might and ought to follow. The valley of Taos is bounded on all sides by lofty mountains, which are but continuations of the Rocky chain. The boundaries of this valley are very irregular, both in the course they take and in their altitudes. The valley is about thirty miles wide and some fifteen miles long. The ground has the appearance, at first sight, of being a plain; but, on closer observation, it is found to contain many ravines, and to bear the appearance of being undulating. To the west side of it, rolls the Rio Grande, which cuts, for most of the way, through a deep and impassable (for fording purposes) channel. In the valley, there are but few, if any, trees, which fact gives the villages a barren look. The mountains about are covered with timber, which is not generally of the first quality for building purposes. The number of people included within the limits of this valley, it is difficult to estimate; but, about ten thousand would include every living soul. The occupation of the people is farming. Raising horses, cattle and sheep is carried on to a certain extent; but most of the large herds of these animals owned in this town are kept at ranches situated at more distant points, where grass is to be had in abundance, and those retained about the villages are only kept for immediate use. The reason for this is found in the fact that most of this valley is not under cultivation, but is covered with sage bushes. It is around the skirts of the mountains, that the only valuable grass is found. The people, as a general thing, are quite poor, but, as they find a ready market through the military posts for their produce, they manage to realize some money, and thus live quite comfortably, in contrast with their former destitute condition under the government of Old Mexico. Some of the inhabitants might be said to be rich, though but few of this class own ten thousand dollars' worth of property. It is with great labor that the people of Taos bring their crops to perfection, as it is necessary to irrigate the soil, unless the season, which is rarely the fact, is favorable in furnishing rains to them. There are no fences to divide one man's possessions from another's; but, by common law, they furnish shepherds to guard their flocks and cattle and keep them from trespassing. The climate is very severe during the winter season, but in the summer it is delightful. The health of this community is wonderfully good. Indeed, the only severe diseases they have to contend against are brought on by vices. Excluding small pox, and the lesser complaints among young children, no epidemics are known. The country is so elevated and inland, that the air is dry and salubrious, and the "dew point" is rarely reached so as to amount to anything. It may be well to add here, that for the consumptive patient, in the early stages of the disease, there is no such climate in the world to visit, as that of New Mexico; but, as a matter of course, he must vary his location with the changes of temperature, being governed by the seasons. The winter in Taos is too severe for him; then, he must go South, towards, or even to El Paso, where it is congenial to his disease. I prophesy that some day our internal continent will be the "Mecca" for pilgrims with this disease.
The dress of the New Mexican is the same as in Old Mexico. The peasant wears his sombrero and his everlasting blanket, which serves him as a coat, and a covering by night. He rarely has but one suit of clothes, which are put on new and worn until they are of no further use. By amalgamating with the Americans, they are gradually changing their style of dress. The buckskin pants, which were characteristically cut and ornamented, are giving way to the ordinary cloth ones of his white companion. It is so with the blanket, which is being shed for the coat; and, again, this is true with the moccasin, which is being replaced by the leathern shoe. The dress of the female has undergone the same alteration. From almost a state of nudity, they have been raised to a position from which they look upon silk and satin with a "connoisseur's eye." When New Mexico was part and parcel of the domain of Old Mexico, Taos was the seat of much smuggling from the United States, and many an apparent pack of grain drawn into the town has been nothing less than packages of domestic goods, the duties upon which, when introduced in the legal way, were enormous; hence the white men engaged in this business, when successful, met with ample rewards for their labors. The frontiers were like the olden sea coasts. The Mexicans kept out scores of custom-house officers to guard their frontiers, but the shrewd foreigners, many times, were able to escape them; at others, they were so fortunate as to find that a bribe would answer as well. An old trick was to have a double bottom to a wagon, and, in the vacant space thus formed, were stowed valuable shawls and such light articles as would meet a sure and remunerative sale. Sometimes the goods were brought near the frontiers and there hidden in the ground until a favorable opportunity offered to steal them into the country. When there was great danger that these secreted goods would be discovered, the smugglers would so arrange a keg of powder with a loaded pistol pointing at it, with strings running to the shrubbery near by, so as to cause it to explode and kill the searchers should the bushes about be disturbed. One old smuggler once fixed things in this manner, but performed his task too well; for, on going to remove his property, he came very near blowing himself up, as the mine was sprung and he was thrown in the air, but miraculously escaped. Many of the adventures of these men would be interesting; but they are too voluminous to be embodied in our work. The valley of Taos is well watered by mountain streams which flow into the Rio Grande. On one of these creeks and near the mountains, to the east of Fernandez de Taos, is located an Indian Pueblo which is very interesting to the traveler. Its houses are built one on top of another until a sort of pyramid is formed. The people enter their respective domicils through the roofs, which form a kind of steps. At the foot of this queer building there is a church; and around, the scenery is very picturesque, as the whole is bounded on one side by a gap in the mountains, while on the other is the open valley. This band of Indians at first offered great resistance and fought with much bravery against the United States; but now they are counted among its most faithful allies, and are great in their admiration of Kit Carson. The farming utensils of the New Mexicans are rude in the extreme; but the agricultural implements of the Anglo-Saxon are slowly replacing these articles. The old plough, as frequently used at the present time by the New Mexicans, is indeed a curiosity, as it probably was invented in the earliest times. It consists of one piece of timber which is crooked the proper shape by nature; the end of this is sharpened, and on it is fastened a single piece of iron which has an attempt at a sharp point. The force to propel this farming implement is attached in the usual way, with but few modifications. Oxen are always employed in this labor, and their yoke is fastened after the Egyptian fashion, to their horns instead of by bows. In breaking up the hard prairies, this plough had a difficult task to perform and was often broken; but, by the assistance of men employed in clearing obstacles, such as sage bushes, etc., the task was imperfectly gone through with. The Mexican axe is another curious tool, which resembles as much the common pick of our laborers as it does the axe used by American woodsmen. The sickle is used in harvesting to this day in these parts, performing the duties of the scythe, the cradle, etc. The most remarkable sight of all is the Mexican cart, the noise of which, when moving, can, be heard on a still day at a great distance. The wheels of this vehicle are at least one foot thick, and consist of pieces of solid wood which are pegged together and made to approach a circle by the best judgment of the eye, without the aid of measuring. These wheels are very heavy, and when rolling they go by jerks, owing to their want of proportion, etc. The body of the cart, as are all of its parts, is made of soft wood, and seems to be constructed for weight and strength instead of beauty. The whole affair, when complete, is almost a load by itself; hence, it is capable of carrying but a small cargo. The grain that Mexicans of New Mexico grow is corn and wheat, and it is on these crops that they depend for their support. In converting this grain into flour, they either use the old water mill which is very primitive in its construction, or else, when these are not near by, they make use of two stones and grind it by hand. Their common diet is a sort of thick gruel made of corn meal, wheat bread, eggs, peas, beans, pumpkins, which latter articles they roast, and then break holes into them and with a spoon dip out the contents as they are required; and, to finish the catalogue, sometimes meat, game and milk. The fruits found in New Mexico are not various, and are mostly confined to apples, peaches, plums and grapes. These latter are truly superior, and are raised in the greatest abundance in the south of the Territory, where, also, they manufacture a very pleasant red wine, which goes by the name of El Paso Wine. We take the manners and customs of the people of Taos as a good type to judge of the manners and customs of the New Mexicans, for the town is second only in size, in this Territory, to Santa Fé. The inhabitants of New Mexico, notwithstanding their poverty and neglect, owing to their remote locality, are perhaps as happy and contented as any community in the world. They are not over-celebrated for their chastity or virtue; and, to the disgrace of the white man, they have not been assisted by him in these cardinal principles; but, time will work wonders on this score and teach the immorality of such proceedings. Their great source of enjoyment consists in dancing; and hence the fandango is always looked for as a time when dull care will be dispelled. A grand fandango is the event of a New Mexican's life. These affairs are gotten up sometimes for charitable purposes, when the money gathered in the sale of refreshments is distributed to the poor; or else they are started by individuals to make a little money out of. In a town the size of Taos, during the winter season, hardly a night passes by without a dance. Written invitations in Spanish are freely circulated about the town in order to entrap the strangers, while the inhabitants are invited by other means. The music consists of a high-strung violin and a species of guitar. This is perambulated about the town. The players perform light dancing tunes and accompany the music with their voices, making up the words as they go along. This music is learned entirely by ear, and is transmitted from one generation to another through the means of these fandangos. The vocal music is anything but harmonious to the ear, but some of the airs, when played on the instruments, are rather pleasing, and one, on hearing them, finds himself often humming them afterwards. The powers of music are nowhere better illustrated than among these people. Their ready ear quickly catches a new tune, and it is not uncommon to hear, in a Mexican town, a señorita giving vent to a negro melody or a favorite polka which she has heard some American sing or whistle. At Santa Fé there are several noted players on the violin and harp who cannot read a word of music, yet they can play on their respective instruments with taste and skill. A New Mexican female, in preparing herself for these balls, is very particular in making, by the aid of cosmetics, her complexion as light as possible. She first uses a red berry which stains her face almost to the color of brick and renders her excessively ugly; this she leaves on several hours, when it is washed off and chalk is applied so freely as to render it easily perceptible. In her toilet she is also very particular, as far as the exterior is concerned, and in the fandango the stranger's eyes are taken by storm by the gaudy colors he sees rather than the neatness of the dress. The floor of the dancing-room is usually the mother earth, which is frequently sprinkled with water to keep down the dust. The men are in their everyday habiliments, with the addition of any clean thing they may chance to possess; but, usually they are a motley crowd, a glance at whom at first leaves the impression that they are far from being refined. Except when dancing, they cling to their blankets, and at the least pause in the proceedings, they at once draw forth the materials and make their cigarettos. Both men and women indulge in these articles; and oftentimes when the dance is in full blast, the air of the room is densely charged with the smell of the burning punchi, a species of tobacco, making it anything but agreeable. The women are seated on benches along the walls of the building, by themselves, while the men congregate in knots together. On the commencement of a figure, the Mexican selects his partner and notifies her that she is his choice by making a signal to her with his hand, when she takes her position in the dance. The eyes and the latent smile on the face of the "dark eyed señorita" shows she is enjoying herself. The men exhibit their pleasure in a more boisterous manner; that is, by occasionally whooping and cracking jokes. Gambling[18] is carried on under the same roof; and in this both men and women join as long as their money lasts. Then they make room for others who are anxious to try their fortunes. This vice is truly of a national character, and so given to it are these people, that they will part with anything to support their appetite. To their credit it can be said, that the New Mexican women indulge but sparingly in alcoholic liquor; but the men are prone to the intoxicating cup. They often anticipate the evil effects of drink, and it is not unfrequent to see a New Mexican assuming the airs of a drunken man after two or three mouthfuls of "aqua-diente." The spirit of the ball is carried on well into the short hours of night, when all parties depart for their homes. Intoxication, that curse to all men, is playing havoc with this innocent amusement of the people, and causing these scenes to terminate in riot, and often bloodshed, especially when the jealousy of the white blood is raised at some imagined insult; and then, as is always the case, the two races come in fierce contact. It is hoped that by the aid of schools and education these things may be ameliorated, but they cannot be cured. The mischief is too deeply rooted.
We have thus endeavored to give the reader a view of the people among whom Kit Carson had determined to become a farmer. But he was not destined to finish and perfect his plans.
Near the conclusion of the second exploring expedition, and at the time when Kit Carson took his departure from the party, Col. Fremont had received a promise from him to the effect that he would join, as guide, any party of discovery, for the further exploration of the Rocky Mountains, which he, Col. Fremont, should command.
During the active duties of a farmer's life, and just as Kit Carson had brought his new enterprise into working order, an expressman from Col. Fremont arrived at his ranche, bearing dispatches to Carson. The purport of these dispatches was to remind Kit Carson of his promise, to inform him of the organization of a third expedition, and to appoint a place where Kit Carson might find his old commander.
The express found Carson in the midst of so many cares and anxieties concerning his new project, that it became a very difficult matter for him to keep his word. But the sacrifice of pecuniary interest was but a slight consideration with Kit, when weighed in the balance against his promise. He knew that his promise had not been either lightly given or received. Col. Fremont, by it, had the first right to his time and energies, and had formed his expectations accordingly; and Kit lost, therefore, no time in making preparations to satisfy these expectations by reporting himself at the appointed place of meeting, ready for the march.
But to effect this was attended with no slight difficulties. Kit Carson had a large sum invested in his improvements, by way of payments for labor, as well as purchases of stock, provision, farming tools, utensils, teams, wagons, seed, and stock in general. The erection of his house, barns, etc., was under an advance which reached far towards completion. But with Kit Carson, his word was worth more than prospective losses which its fulfillment would entail. In company with Mr. Owens, he set himself actively at work to effect a complete sell-out. After a good deal of anxious inquiry, he found a man who was willing to pay one half of the real valuation attached to his property. Notwithstanding this sacrifice, the bargain was closed and the business details completed. In company with Mr. Owens, Kit Carson once more bade his family and friends an affectionate farewell. They took the route for Bent's Fort, and arrived there in the course of a few days. The meeting between Fremont and Carson was mutually satisfactory. With his friend, Mr. Owens, he joined the Third expedition of Col. Fremont, which was the last one which he undertook by authority of the United States government.
A long tramp was before them. The arrangements preparatory were, therefore, made with corresponding care and diligence. The route led up the Arkansas River to the point where that stream leaves the mountains; thence they made a circuit by the Ballo Salado, or Soda Springs, coming back again upon the Arkansas, striking the stream above its great cañon. Thence they journeyed on to the head waters of the river. Here they left the Arkansas River and took a direct route for the Piney River, down which latter stream they traveled to a spot within twenty-five miles of its mouth. From this place they continued their explorations of the country to the head of White River. Following down it, they soon reached the mountains. Crossing them, they proceeded to Prevost's Fork.
At this spot a desperate fight once occurred between a party of trappers and a band of hostile Indians. The trappers were commanded by a man whose name has ever since been applied to the stream. Prevost, although he had a strong party and fought a most desperate battle, nevertheless was outnumbered, outgeneralled, and most completely overpowered. The Indians succeeded in killing the entire party, including himself, with but four exceptions. These four escaped only with the greatest difficulty and prudence. Through them the particulars of the affair became known to the mountaineers.
Col. Fremont (we should before this have mentioned that Fremont had been promoted in the corps of Topographical Engineers from the post of Lieutenant to the rank of Captain by brevet) now examined the country as far as the south side of the Great Salt Lake, passing on his route a smaller body of water, which, for many years, has been known as Little Utah Lake. The command halted at Great Salt Lake a few days to recruit, preparatory to undertaking the further exploration of the lake, together with one of its largest islands, which would be reached by this southern route. The Indians met with on the journey, informed them that on this island there was plenty of fresh water, and game in abundance. On arriving at a suitable place, Col. Fremont pitched his tents for the main camp. On the following morning, taking Kit Carson and a few chosen men, Col. Fremont started to explore the island. The reports of the Indians were proven to be true. In addition to plenty of fresh water and game, they discovered very good timber growing there. The game, which proved to be antelope, was so abundant that they decided to kill from the herds a quantity sufficient for future use. The island was about fifteen miles in length by about five in breadth. From the main land to the island they were able to ride their horses, as the water was not deep. Upon the banks of the lake they found the salt deposit to vary from the thickness of a wafer to the depth of twelve inches.
Having made their observations, the small party returned to the main camp. On the following day the journey was resumed, the route leading around the south side of the lake, until they reached the last fresh water to be found in that direction. Before them lay a wide and unknown desert, over which no white man had ever passed. Kit Carson had been at this spot several times in previous years, and had often heard the oldest trappers speak of the impossibility of crossing it for man or beast. They had always shrunk from a path apparently endless, which offered appearances of neither grass nor water. Colonel Fremont had determined to try the formidable desert, and, if possible, unfold its hidden secrets. His men were equally ambitious with himself, and were ready to second his efforts without fearing the trials or sufferings which the desert route might exact.
Colonel Fremont arranged all of his plans commensurate with the hardships in expectancy. Early the subsequent morning he dispatched Kit Carson, Maxwell and two others as an advance party to break the road and look for a camping site. With his telescope, he then ascended a neighboring mountain to watch the little party of pioneers. In the event that water and grass should be found, Kit Carson's orders were to build a fire, the smoke of which would serve as a signal to Fremont, who would immediately follow up their trail with the whole command.
For sixty miles, Kit Carson with his little party traveled over this level, barren and sandy desert, without coming to a drop of water or a blade of grass. At the end of this distance they reached the mountains, on the west side of the lake, and found both in abundance. The signal of smoke was now made, according to agreement. Even at this long distance Fremont discovered it, and immediately set his party in motion. Kit Carson sent back one of the men to meet the main body, and guide it across the dreary waste. Before the party had accomplished more than half the distance to Kit Carson's advance, night set in, forcing the whole band to encamp without water, grass, or fuel. The camp became more necessary because the darkness was so great that they could not follow the trail in a night march. Early the following day the march was resumed, and a few hours served once more to reunite the command. They had the misfortune, however, to lose a few of their animals. The place which Kit Carson had selected for the camp was, to the weary travelers, in every respect equal to an oasis on the Great Sahara. There is no one thing which a traveler on the plains dreads more than being forced to camp without water and grass.
At this resting-place Colonel Fremont, in order to accomplish as much as possible, divided his forces into two commands. One of them he gave into the charge of Mr. Talbot, his assistant, and appointed for his guide a mountaineer named Walker. To this party Colonel Fremont gave instructions to shape their course for Mary's River; on striking which, they were to follow down the stream to where it is lost in the Great Basin. Colonel Fremont retained with him fifteen men besides his guide. The route which he pursued lay in the country south of Mary's River forming a large tract of land, which it was very desirable that he should explore. After finishing this, he was to join Talbot on the lake which is formed by the widening of the Carson River. The country through which Colonel Fremont traveled, he found to be well furnished with grass, water and wood. It is highly picturesque; but, as its characteristics are so vividly painted in his reports, it is superfluous to add our attempt to the same task. Having arrived at the lake already mentioned, he there awaited the arrival of Talbot. It was three days before the command was again united. They, however, remained together only one night. Early the following morning they separated once more. This time, Talbot's instructions were, to find a certain pass which would bring him out in the vicinity of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, which he was to cross, and then keep on his course for the waters of the San Joaquin. Fremont, with his division, journeyed up the Carson River, and after traversing the Sierra Nevada Mountains, he arrived safe at Sutter's Fort, without meeting with any incidents that were not to be expected on such a trip. Captain Sutter, with his usual urbanity of manner, kindly received them, and supplied their wants. Of him, Fremont purchased forty head of cattle and a few horses, with which he set out to look for Mr. Talbot. In doing so, he traveled up the valley of the San Joaquin, and forded that river at about where it is ushered forth from the mountains. Mr. Talbot was not to be found in this direction, so the party went to Kings River, and journeyed up it to its head waters. It now happened that the cattle belonging to the party began to grow foot-sore and weary from travel over rocky trails and through deep snows. It became evident that the looked-for men were not in that quarter; therefore, Fremont returned to the prairies near by, in the hopes of saving his cattle; but, when he arrived there, he was destitute of these animals, for they had all given out and died. The party had, previous to this misfortune, killed some of the best of the oxen, and prepared the meat to carry along with them; but, in no great quantities, as their riding animals were not strong enough to bear heavy burdens. The command had hardly left the mountains and succeeded in reaching the prairies, before they were obliged to submit to further trials and losses. After going into camp one night, the men, tired and worn out by much labor, had lain down to rest. As a guard had been posted, they gave themselves but little concern about danger. Their sentinels were not on the look-out as sharply as they might have been. The consequence was, that some hostile Indians crept within their lines and killed two mules, which depredation was not discovered until the next morning.
Fremont had no animals remaining in condition to give chase, and therefore had quietly to submit to his loss. He now resolved to give up for the time being his search for Talbot's party and return to Sutter's Fort, where he could reorganize. While on their road to the Fort, the men came suddenly upon a band of the same Indians who had recently annoyed them. These fellows seemed to invite an engagement, and were gratified by Col. Fremont. In the skirmish that ensued, they lost five warriors killed. The rest fled. The party, after undergoing many hardships, finally reached their point of destination. During the latter part of this tramp, game had become so scarce that the men had to shoot whatever came in their way. This time it chanced to be wild horses. When they arrived at the Fort they were on foot, their saddle and pack animals having all given out and broken down. By the kind assistance of Mr. Sutter, they were furnished anew. After recruiting a little their own worn-out bodies, they started on their second trip in quest of their companions. They traversed the coast range and went to San José to see if they could hear anything through the Mexicans and Indians who resided there, concerning the whereabouts of the missing men; as perchance, some of the hunters or traders among these people might, in their travels, have met or heard something of them. On making inquiries at San José, they were informed that the party was encamped at a well known place on the San Joaquin. This piece of intelligence immediately decided Fremont to dispatch Carson and two companions to that section of country, while he and the remainder of the men would remain where they were and await his return. Kit Carson performed his mission with his usual promptness and soon returned with his charge, when the expedition was once more united under one leader. Owing to the great trials and privations recently met with, and the inability to procure at Sutter's Fort all that was wanted in the matter of an outfit, therefore it was determined upon that the party should proceed next to Monterey, where they knew they could purchase the articles that were actually required. While en route, and when within thirty miles of this last-named town, an impertinent order was received from Gen. Castro, the Mexican commander of the territory. The purport of this order was, that Fremont and his party must immediately vacate the country without further notice, or else the gallant general would be obliged to drive them out. It was late in the afternoon when the messenger with this document arrived in Fremont's camp; yet, he found time the same day to pack up and fall back to a place where he could fortify his position, as he felt confident that this was but an empty excuse which the Mexican general had invented to prevent him from penetrating further into the country. The Americans had hardly got things in proper trim before the Mexican general, at the head of several hundred troops, arrived and established his camp and head-quarters within sight of the former, being deluded with the belief that he would easily intimidate the exploring party. The general commenced firing his cannon and making a great uproar. He had all branches of the service with him, including artillery, infantry and cavalry. In the intention of intimidation, however, he was greatly mistaken, though the difference in numbers between the two parties was in itself almost decisive, should they come to a conflict. Yet the Mexicans had but poorly estimated the mettle contained in the American commander and his forty men. They were ready, one and all, to sell their lives dearly in a cause good as that before them. Unshaken in their purpose, the little band of intrepid men remained in their camp for the period of three days. The Americans who were then living at Monterey sent several expressmen to their countrymen, warning them of their danger, as they felt that the Mexicans could, without a doubt, completely annihilate them. Fremont's reply was perfectly characteristic of the man; he said he had done nothing to raise the wrath of the Mexicans, who were now treating him disgracefully. He had come to perform a duty, and could not leave without executing it. In fact, neither himself nor his men would submit to be driven out of the country. At the end of three days, Fremont saw that there was no prospect of Gen. Castro's consummating his threat; and, considering that he had sufficiently shown his willingness to fight if driven to it, he therefore concluded to strike his camp and withdraw to the Sacramento River. The party were not disturbed in their movements, and on reaching this stream they followed it up until they came to Peter Lawson's Trading Post, where Fremont intended, since he could not go to Monterey without being too rash, to purchase the outfit for the homeward-bound trip. The party remained at this post some ten days, during which time some American settlers in the neighborhood came in with the information that one thousand Indian warriors were collecting for the avowed purpose of destroying their ranches, probably at the instigation of the Mexicans. The exploring party, and also five white men from the Post, proffered their services to go to the aid of their countrymen, and shortly afterwards the whole command under Fremont moved forward to meet and measure their strength with the savages. The village of the Indians was in due time found, when the whites commenced the fight by making an attack on it. The battle was for a little while stoutly contested; but finally the red men were completely routed. The number of the killed it was difficult to ascertain; but Carson is of the opinion that this fight had the tendency of fixing on the minds of this tribe the truth of their inability to cope with white men, the convincing evidence of which was that the battle-ground was strewn with their dead. Having more than accomplished his chastisement of the Indians, Fremont with his party returned to Lawson's.
On finishing his purchases, at this post, whose occupants had done their utmost to supply his wants and make his stay agreeable, the explorer once more set his command in motion en route for the Columbia River. He traveled up the Sacramento and passed near the Shasta Buttes,[19] and thence on to the Tlamath Lake. While encamped on the head of this collection of water, news came to the party that war had been declared between the United States and Mexico. This intelligence had been sent to Fremont through Lieutenant Gillespie, of the United States marines, who had with him six men as an escort. After traveling three hundred miles over bad trails at a rapid pace, his animals began to succumb to fatigue. The lieutenant saw he would fail to accomplish his ends with the whole party together, therefore he selected two of his most reliable men, mounted them on his fleetest horses, and sent them on ahead to bear the dispatches, while he himself would jog on slowly. The expressmen overhauled the exploring party after several days of hard travel and handed to Fremont the communications. As soon as he had read his letters, Fremont made inquiries in regard to Gillespie, and found that he was in rather a precarious position; for, should the Tlamath Indians take the notion, they would murder him and his men just by the way of pastime. Fremont at once determined to return with all haste and succor Gillespie from the imminent peril that surrounded him. With this purpose in view, he selected ten picked men, leaving orders for the rest of the party to follow on his trail, and set out. He had traveled about sixty miles when he met the officer he was in search of coming on. The meeting was very gratifying to both, but especially so to Fremont, who was fully alive to the dangers through which Gillespie had passed; for, the lieutenant was not sufficiently aware how black-hearted in their villainy and treachery this tribe, through whose country he was passing, were, as he had heretofore never dealt with them. A camp was selected near by, and all hands were not long in being snugly seated in it around a good fire, listening to the important news fresh from the civilized world.
Fremont sat up until about one o'clock reading his letters from the United States. Kit Carson and Owens, wrapped in their saddle blankets, had picked out their beds near the fire, as the night was cold. On concluding the reading of his correspondence, Fremont turned in and was soon sound asleep. All was quiet for awhile, when Kit Carson heard a noise that awaked him; the sound was like the stroke of an axe. Rising to his feet, he discovered Indians in the camp. While in the act of reaching for his rifle, he gave the alarm, to his slumbering companions; but, two of them were already sleeping their last sleep, for the fatal tomahawk had been buried in their brains. One of these victims was the brave Lajeunesse, while the other was a full-blooded Delaware Indian. As Kit Carson left the fire, where he was too conspicuous an object, he saw several warriors approaching towards it. There lay near to it four other Delawares, who, on hearing the alarm, sprang to their feet. One of them by the name of Crane, seized hold of a rifle which, unfortunately, was not his own, and was not loaded. The poor fellow was not aware of this important fact. He kept trying to fire it while he stood erect, and manfully received five arrows, all of which penetrated his left breast, and either one of which was sufficient to cause his death. At last, he fell. On grasping his gun, Kit Carson remembered that the evening before, he had discharged it for the purpose of cleaning it, and while doing so had accidentally broken its cap tube, and consequently he had not reloaded it. As this flashed across his mind, he threw the rifle down and drew from his belt a single-barrelled pistol, with which he made at the warrior who was so safely throwing his arrows into his companion. When sufficiently near, Kit Carson fired, but as the fellow kept dodging about, he only succeeded in cutting the string that held the tomahawk to its red owner's arm. Maxwell now shot at this same brave and hit him in the fleshy part of one leg; and, as he was turning to run, which was the case with most of the Indians by this time, a bullet from the rifle of a mountaineer passed through his heart and arrested his progress. The whites were now fully awakened to their danger, and about ready to commence the fight; but the enemy had scattered. If all the savages had shown the same quickness and coolness as did their foremost warrior, the probability is that the most, if not the whole of the party would have been massacred. As it was, the attack was well planned, but poorly carried out.
The result of the affair was, that Fremont lost three brave men, and had one other wounded slightly. It now became evident that the party had fallen into a snare which was intended for Lieutenant Gillespie and his small force, but the coming up of Fremont had caused the assassins to find they had caught a Tartar.
Fremont and his party apprehended no danger that night; consequently, they did not post a guard, and as the men were very tired they slept very soundly. Before lying down, several of them had fired off their rifles, and, after cleaning them, they had neglected to reload them. This was the first and last time they were guilty of such a mistake while in an Indian country.
Of the three men killed, the one by the name of Lajeunesse was the most regretted, for he had been with Fremont on his previous expeditions, and had won the admiration and confidence of his commander and companions. In a small company of men, such as these expeditions were composed of, where every member becomes intimately known and admired by his companions, the loss of one would be greatly felt; but, when three such were thus suddenly taken, it caused a gloom to be cast over the remainder, not easily to be dispelled. The only consolation left to the living was, that they had been instrumental in saving Lieutenant Gillespie and his four companions; therefore, in sacrificing their comrades, they had saved more lives than had been lost.
There were no more thoughts of sleep in this camp for that eventful night; but instead, the men selected positions behind neighboring trees and fallen logs, and were ready to receive the enemy should they see fit to visit them again.
The Indians, however, as Kit Carson predicted, had come to the wise conclusion not to attempt so unsatisfactory a business as another attack, for the grey light of the following day came without their reappearance. Before the sun had fairly risen, Fremont had broken up this camp, which had become odious to the men from its unpleasant associations. With their packs, and with the bodies of their dead companions, the party started to find their rear guard. They had proceeded about ten miles on their journey, when, by unanimous consent, they resolved to halt and inter the remains, which they had wished to carry until they united their forces, so that all could participate in the funeral rites; but, the woods through which they were traveling were very thick, and already the bodies had become greatly disfigured, on account of their frequently striking against the trees, as they were fastened on the backs of three animals.
Slowly and sadly, in that dense forest, hundreds of miles from their nearest countrymen, was this funeral procession formed. A spot was selected on one side of the main trail, at a distance of about one half mile, where a rude grave was dug, and, wrapped in their blankets, in the same common house, were deposited all that remained of these three brave men. An observer of these obsequies, would have seen the lips of daring men, now and then, giving spasmodic twitchings; eyes swimming in tears, and a silence and solemnity that bespoke the truest kind of grief. Among that party, such a one would have been sure to have marked out the countenance of Kit Carson; for, engraven on it were the throes which were troubling his kind heart on being thus obliged to separate from old friends. Not a man left that grave, but who resolved, secretly and silently, to make these dastardly Indians suffer for the lives they had thus wantonly taken. In fact, they felt it an imperative duty they yet owed to their departed comrades; who, if they but stood in their places, would have sworn to be avenged; hence, the reader must not judge them harshly if they nourished these feelings.
That very day the two parties met and went into camp together. Plans were concocted to chastise the red men soundly. The next day, on quitting this last resting-place, a squad of fifteen men was left concealed in the neighborhood, in order to watch and act against any Indians who, by chance, might be following them from one camp to another, in hopes of finding something. The main command then moved on slowly, and had advanced but a few miles when they were overtaken by their friends, who came up with two scalps. These were the sum total of their morning's work. The two warriors to whom they had belonged were caught following the trail as scouts of their main body. The unerring rifles of the party in ambush had performed their fearful duty.