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

by De Witt C. Peters

CHAPTER VIII.

Kit Carson visits Fremont's Camp—Goes on the Second Exploring Expedition—The Necessary Arrangements—Trip to Salt Lake—Explorations there—Carson is dispatched to Fort Hall for Supplies—Their Operations at Salt Lake—The Great Island—The Journey to the Columbia River in Oregon—Incidents on the Route—Tlamath Lake—The Journey to California—The Trials and Privations met with while crossing the Sierra Nevada Mountains—Mr. Preuss is lost but finds the Party again—Arrival at Sutter's Fort in a Destitute Condition—Two of the Party become deranged—The Route on the Return Trip—Mexicans come into their Camp asking Aid and Protection—Indian Depredations—Carson and Godey start on a Daring Adventure—The Pursuit—The Thieves overtaken—These Two White Men attack Thirty Indians—The Victory—Horses retaken—The Return to Camp—One of their Companions killed—The Journey continued—Arrival at Bent's Fort—The "Fourth of July" Dinner.

A few days before Kit Carson's arrival at Bent's Fort, Col. Fremont had passed by and had informed the Traders there that he was bound on another Exploring Expedition. Having finished up his business with the Mexicans, Kit thought he would like to see his old commander once again. Accordingly, he started on his trail: and, after seventy miles of travel, came up with him. The meeting proved to be mutually agreeable. Although Kit Carson had made this visit solely from his desire to see again his old commander and not with a view of joining his second expedition, Col. Fremont insisted so strongly upon having Kit accompany him that he acquiesced in doing so.

For Col. Fremont, Kit Carson has the greatest admiration. He knows, as well as any man living, his bravery, his talents and the many splendid qualities of his mind and heart. The question will naturally arise, does Kit Carson indorse the political creed upon which Col. Fremont accepted the nomination for the Presidency of the United States? The best answer and the one which is true, will be: Kit Carson considers it one of the highest honors and greatest blessings to be a citizen of the United States. He is willing to incur any danger for his country's good, even if the sacrifice of his life is the alternative. He has spent all his life in the wilds of America where news is always as scarce an article as luxuries of the table and fire-side, and, where the political strifes of factions and parties are not known. The inference will therefore be plainly apparent, that his curiosity does not lead him to examine very attentively the minute workings of political machinery. He is not a man to be swayed by friendship from performing any act which the interests of his country seem to require at his hands. His political bias will, therefore, remain a matter of conjecture until such time, if his life is spared to see it, when New Mexico shall be admitted into the Union as a State. So far, he has never lived where he could exercise the right of franchise. The time must come which shall entitle him to a Presidential vote before he decides what political party shall count him as its supporter.

Soon after Kit Carson was again enrolled under the command of Col. Fremont, he received orders to return to Bent's Fort and purchase some mules of which the party stood in need. Mules are valuable animals in new and mountainous countries. They are often the only beasts of burden which can be successfully used in crossing the wild mountains. Being more sure footed and more able to endure great fatigue than the horse, in such expeditions, they become absolutely necessary. While he was absent on this duty, the expedition journeyed first to Soda Springs and thence on to St. Vrain's Fort, which was located on the South Fork of the Platte. At this point, the expedition was joined by Major Fitzpatrick with a command of forty men which he had enrolled, under orders, to assist in the exploration. When Kit Carson had rejoined the party, the arrangements for the arduous task in view were nearly complete.

Colonel Fremont divided his forces, sending one division, with most of the camp equipage, on the more direct route. This division was placed under the command of Major Fitzpatrick. The other division under the command of Colonel Fremont, consisting of a squad of fifteen men and his guide Kit Carson, struck out up Thompson's Fork. The object of this expedition had in view by the government was, to have Colonel Fremont connect his explorations of the preceding year with the coast surveys of Commander Wilkes on the Pacific. This would give the data for making a correct map of the interior of the wild lands of the continent. From Thompson's Fork Colonel Fremont's division marched to the Cache la Poudre River, and thence to the plains of Laramie until they came to the North Fork of the Platte. This river they crossed below the New Park and bent their way to the sweet water, reaching it at a point about fifteen miles below the Devil's Gate. From this point they traveled almost the same road which is now used by emigrants and which leads to Soda Springs on Beaver River. It had been decided by Fremont to go to the Great Salt Lake and accomplish its exploration. He therefore started for that direction; but, before doing so, ordered Kit Carson to proceed to Fort Hall and obtain such supplies as were required. After procuring these necessities, Kit Carson, with one companion and his pack animals, set out on the return from Fort Hall and eventually found Fremont on the upper end of Salt Lake. From here the party journeyed around to the east side of the lake, a distance of about twenty miles. At this spot they obtained a good view of the lake and its adjacent scenery. Before him, and in bold relief, stood out everything which the explorer desired to examine, even to one of the several islands which are located in the midst of this wonderful collection of saline waters. To this isolated land Fremont was resolved to go. Among the rest of the forethought, supplies, there was an India-rubber boat. This was ordered to be made ready for a trip to the island early the following day. No doubt our readers will be pleased to enjoy Colonel Fremont's account of this lake, its scenery and characteristics. We insert therefore as much thereof as our space will admit. It was the twenty-first day of August 1843 that the little party reached Bear River, which, as has already appeared in another, part of this work, was the principal tributary of the Great Salt Lake. At this point of Colonel Fremont's narrative, he says: "We were now entering a region which, for us, possessed a strange and extraordinary interest. We were upon the waters of the famous lake which forms a salient point among the remarkable geographical features of the country, and around which the vague and superstitious accounts of the trappers had thrown a delightful obscurity, which we anticipated pleasure in dispelling, but which, in the meantime, left a crowded field for the exercise of our imagination.

"In our occasional conversations with the few old hunters who had visited the region, it had been a subject of frequent speculation; and the wonders which they related were not the less agreeable because they were highly exaggerated and impossible.

"Hitherto this lake had been seen only by trappers, who were wandering through the country in search of new beaver streams, caring very little for geography; its islands had never been visited; and none were to be found who had entirely made the circuit of its shores; and no instrumental observations, or geographical survey of any description, had ever been made anywhere in the neighboring region. It was generally supposed that it had no visible outlet; but, among the trappers, including those in my own camp, were many who believed that somewhere on its surface was a terrible whirlpool, through which its waters found their way to the ocean by some subterranean communication. All these things had made a frequent subject of discussion in our desultory conversations around the fires at night; and my own mind had become tolerably well filled with their indefinite pictures, and insensibly colored with their romantic descriptions, which, in the pleasure of excitement, I was well disposed to believe, and half expected to realize.

"'In about six miles' travel from our encampment, we reached one of the points in our journey to which we had always looked forward with great interest—the famous Beer Springs, which, on account of the effervescing gas and acid taste, had received their name from the voyageurs and trappers of the country, who, in the midst of their rude and hard lives, are fond of finding some fancied resemblance to the luxuries they rarely have the good fortune to enjoy.

"'Although somewhat disappointed in the expectations which various descriptions had led me to form of unusual beauty of situation and scenery, I found it altogether a place of very great interest; and a traveler for the first time in a volcanic region remains in a constant excitement, and at every step is arrested by something remarkable and new. There is a confusion of interesting objects gathered together in a small space. Around the place of encampment the Beer Springs were numerous; but, as far as we could ascertain, were entirely confined to that locality in the bottom. In the bed of the river, in front, for a space of several hundred yards, they were very abundant; the effervescing gas rising up and agitating the water in countless bubbling columns. In the vicinity round about were numerous springs of an entirely different and equally marked mineral character. In a rather picturesque spot, about 1,300 yards below our encampment, and immediately on the river bank, is the most remarkable spring of the place. In an opening on the rock, a white column of scattered water is thrown up, in form like a jet-d'eau, to a variable height of about three feet, and, though it is maintained in a constant supply, its greatest height is attained only at regular intervals, according to the action of the force below. It is accompanied by a subterranean noise, which, together with the motion of the water, makes very much the impression of a steamboat in motion; and, without knowing that it had been already previously so called, we gave to it the name of the Steamboat Spring. The rock through which it is forced is slightly raised in a convex manner, and gathered at the opening into an urn-mouthed form, and is evidently formed by continued deposition from the water, and colored bright red by oxide of iron.

"'It is a hot spring, and the water has a pungent and disagreeable metallic taste, leaving a burning effect on the tongue. Within perhaps two yards of the jet d'eau, is a small hole of about an inch in diameter, through which, at regular intervals, escapes a blast of hot air with a light wreath of smoke, accompanied by a regular noise.'

"As they approached the lake, they passed over a country of bold and striking scenery, and through several 'gates,' as they called certain narrow valleys. The 'standing rock' is a huge column, occupying the centre of one of these passes. It fell from a height of perhaps 3,000 feet, and happened to remain in its present upright position.

"At last, on the 6th of September, the object for which their eyes had long been straining was brought to view.

"'Sept. 6.—This time we reached the butte without any difficulty; and, ascending to the summit, immediately at our feet beheld the object of our anxious search, the waters of the Inland Sea, stretching in still and solitary grandeur far beyond the limit of our vision. It was one of the great points of the exploration; and as we looked eagerly over the lake in the first emotions of excited pleasure, I am doubtful if the followers of Balboa felt more enthusiasms, when, from the heights of the Andes, they saw for the first time the great Western Ocean. It was certainly a magnificent object, and a noble terminus to this part of our expedition; and to travelers so long shut up among mountain ranges, a sudden view over the expanse of silent waters had in it something sublime. Several large islands raised their high rocky heads out of the waves; but whether or not they were timbered was still left to our imagination, as the distance was too great to determine if the dark hues upon them were woodland or naked rock. During the day the clouds had been gathering black over the mountains to the westward, and while we were looking a storm burst down with sudden fury upon the lake, and entirely hid the islands from our view.

"'On the edge of the stream a favorable spot was selected in a grove; and felling the timber, we made a strong corral, or horse-pen, for the animals, and a little fort for the people who were to remain. We were now probably in the country of the Utah Indians, though none reside upon the lake. The India-rubber boat was repaired with prepared cloth and gum, and filled with air, in readiness for the next day.

"'The provisions which Carson had brought with him being now exhausted, and our stock reduced to a small quantity of roots, I determined to retain with me only a sufficient number of men for the execution of our design; and accordingly seven were sent back to Fort Hall, under the guidance of François Lajeunesse, who, having been for many years a trapper in the country, was an experienced mountaineer.

"'We formed now but a small family. With Mr. Preuss and myself, Carson, Bernier, and Basil Lajeunesse had been selected for the boat expedition—the first ever attempted on this interior sea; and Badeau, with Derosier, and Jacob (the colored man), were to be left in charge of the camp. We were favored with most delightful weather. To-night there was a brilliant sunset of golden orange and green, which left the western sky clear and beautifully pure; but clouds in the east made me lose an occultation. The summer frogs were singing around us, and the evening was very pleasant, with a temperature of 60°—a night of a more southern autumn. For our supper we had yampah, the most agreeably flavored of the roots, seasoned by a small fat duck, which had come in the way of Jacob's rifle. Around our fire to-night were many speculations on what to-morrow would bring forth; and in our busy conjectures we fancied that we should find every one of the large islands a tangled wilderness of trees and shrubbery, teeming with game of every description that the neighboring region afforded, and which the foot of a white man or Indian had never violated. Frequently, during the day, clouds had rested on the summits of their lofty mountains, and we believed that we should find clear streams and springs of fresh water; and we indulged in anticipations of the luxurious repasts with which we were to indemnify ourselves for past privations. Neither, in our discussions were the whirlpool and other mysterious dangers forgotten, which Indian and hunters' stories attributed to this unexplored lake. The men had discovered that, instead of being strongly sewed (like that of the preceding year, which had so triumphantly rode the cañons of the Upper Great Platte), our present boat was only pasted together in a very insecure manner, the maker having been allowed so little time in the construction that he was obliged to crowd the labor of two months into several days. The insecurity of the boat was sensibly felt by us; and, mingled with the enthusiasm and excitement that we all felt at the prospect of an undertaking which had never before been accomplished, was a certain impression of danger, sufficient to give a serious character to our conversation. The momentary view which had been had of the lake the day before, its great extent and rugged islands, dimly seen amidst the dark waters in the obscurity of the sudden storm, were well calculated to heighten the idea of undefined danger with which the lake was generally associated.

"'Sept. 8.—A calm, clear day, with a sunrise temperature of 41°. In view of our present enterprise, a part of the equipment of the boat had been made to consist of three air-tight bags, about three feet long, and capable each of containing five gallons. These had been filled with water the night before, and were now placed in the boat, with our blankets and instruments, consisting of a sextant, telescope, spy-glass, thermometer, and barometer.

"'In the course of the morning we discovered that two of the cylinders leaked so much as to require one man constantly at the bellows, to keep them sufficiently full of air to support the boat. Although we had made a very early start, we loitered so much on the way—stopping every now and then, and floating silently along, to get a shot at a goose or a duck—that it was late in the day when we reached the outlet. The river here divided into several branches, filled with fluvials, and so very shallow that it was with difficulty we could get the boat along, being obliged to get out and wade. We encamped on a low point among rushes and young willows, where there was a quantity of driftwood, which served for our fires. The evening was mild and clear; we made a pleasant bed of the young willows; and geese and ducks enough had been killed for an abundant supper at night, and for breakfast next morning. The stillness of the night was enlivened by millions of water-fowl.

"'Sept. 9.—The day was clear and calm; the thermometer at sunrise at 49°. As is usual with the trappers on the eve of any enterprise, our people had made dreams, and theirs happened to be a bad one—one which always preceded evil—and consequently they looked very gloomy this morning; but we hurried through our breakfast, in order to make an early start, and have all the day before us for our adventure. The channel in a short distance became so shallow that our navigation was at an end, being merely a sheet of soft mud, with a few inches of water, and sometimes none at all, forming the low-water shore of the lake. All this place was absolutely covered with flocks of screaming plover. We took off our clothes, and, getting over-board, commenced dragging the boat—making, by this operation, a very curious trail, and a very disagreeable smell in stirring up the mud, as we sank above the knee at every step. The water here was still fresh, with only an insipid and disagreeable taste, probably derived from the bed of fetid mud. After proceeding in this way about a mile, we came to a small black ridge on the bottom, beyond which the water became suddenly salt, beginning gradually to deepen, and the bottom was sandy and firm. It was a remarkable division, separating the fresh water of the rivers from the briny water of the lake, which was entirely saturated with common salt. Pushing our little vessel across the narrow boundary, we sprang on board, and at length were afloat on the waters of the unknown sea.

"We did not steer for the mountainous islands, but directed our course towards a lower one, which it had been decided we should first visit, the summit of which was formed like the crater at the upper end of Bear River valley. So long as we could touch the bottom with our paddles, we were very gay; but gradually, as the water deepened, we became more still in our frail batteau of gum cloth distended with air, and with pasted seams. Although the day was very calm, there was a considerable swell on the lake; and there were white patches of foam on the surface, which were slowly moving to the southward, indicating the set of a current in that direction, and recalling the recollection of the whirlpool stories. The water continued to deepen as we advanced; the lake becoming almost transparently clear, of an extremely beautiful bright-green color; and the spray, which was thrown into the boat and over our clothes, was directly converted into a crust of common salt, which covered also our hands and arms. 'Captain,' said Carson, who for some time had been looking suspiciously at some whitening appearances outside the nearest islands 'what are those yonder?—won't you just take a look with the glass?' We ceased paddling for a moment, and found them to be the caps of the waves that were beginning to break under the force of a strong breeze that was coming up the lake. The form of the boat seemed to be an admirable one, and it rode on the waves like a water bird; but, at the same time, it was extremely slow in its progress. When we were a little more than half way across the reach, two of the divisions between the cylinders gave way, and it required the constant use of the bellows to keep in a sufficient quantity of air. For a long time we scarcely seemed to approach our island, but gradually we worked across the rougher sea of the open channel, into the smoother water under the lee of the island, and began to discover that what we took for a long row of pelicans, ranged on the beach, were only low cliffs whitened with salt by the spray of the waves; and about noon we reached the shore, the transparency of the water enabling us to see the bottom at a considerable depth.

"'The cliffs and masses of rock along the shore were whitened by an incrustation of salt where the waves dashed up against them; and the evaporating water, which had been left in holes and hollows on the surface of the rocks, was covered with a crust of salt about one-eighth of an inch in thickness.

"'Carrying with us the barometer and other instruments, in the afternoon we ascended to the highest point of the island—a bare rocky peak, 800 feet above the lake. Standing on the summit, we enjoyed an extended view of the lake, inclosed in a basin of rugged mountains, which sometimes left marshy flats and extensive bottoms between them and the shore, and in other places came directly down into the water with bold and precipitous bluffs.

"'As we looked over the vast expanse of water spread out beneath us, and strained our eyes along the silent shores over which hung so much doubt and uncertainty, and which were so full of interest to us, I could hardly repress the almost irresistible desire to continue our exploration; but the lengthening snow on the mountains was a plain indication of the advancing season, and our frail linen boat appeared so insecure that I was unwilling to trust our lives to the uncertainties of the lake. I therefore unwillingly resolved to terminate our survey here, and remain satisfied for the present with what we had been able to add to the unknown geography of the region. We felt pleasure also in remembering that we were the first who, in the traditionary annals of the country, had visited the islands, and broken, with the cheerful sound of human voices, the long solitude of the place.

"'I accidentally left on the summit the brass cover to the object end of my spy-glass; and as it will probably remain there undisturbed by Indians, it will furnish matter of speculation to some future traveler. In our excursions about the island, we did not meet with any kind of animal; a magpie, and another larger bird, probably attracted by the smoke of our fire, paid us a visit from the shore, and were the only living things seen during our stay. The rock constituting the cliffs along the shore where we were encamped, is a talcous rock, or steatite, with brown spar.

"'At sunset, the temperature was 70°. We had arrived just in time to obtain a meridian altitude of the sun, and other observations were obtained this evening, which place our camp in latitude 41° 10' 42", and longitude 112° 21' 05" from Greenwich. From a discussion of the barometrical observations made during our stay on the shores of the lake, we have adopted 4,200 feet for its elevation above the Gulf of Mexico. In the first disappointment we felt from the dissipation of our dream of the fertile islands, I called this Disappointment Island.

"'Out of the driftwood, we made ourselves pleasant little lodges, open to the water, and, after having kindled large fires to excite the wonder of any straggling savage on the lake shores, lay down, for the first time in a long journey, in perfect security; no one thinking about his arms. The evening was extremely bright and pleasant; but the wind rose during the night, and the waves began to break heavily on the shore, making our island tremble. I had not expected in our inland journey to hear the roar of an ocean surf; and the strangeness of our situation, and the excitement we felt in the associated interests of the place, made this one of the most interesting nights I remember during our long expedition.

"'In the morning, the surf was breaking heavily on the shore, and we were up early. The lake was dark and agitated, and we hurried through our scanty breakfast, and embarked—having first filled one of the buckets with water from the lake, of which it was intended to make salt. The sun had risen by the time we were ready to start; and it was blowing a strong gale of wind, almost directly off the shore, and raising a considerable sea, in which our boat strained very much. It roughened as we got away from the island, and it required all the efforts of the men to make any head against the wind and sea; the gale rising with the sun; and there was danger of being blown into one of the open reaches beyond the island. At the distance of half a mile from the beach, the depth of water was sixteen feet, with a clay bottom; but, as the working of the boat was very severe labor, and during the operation of sounding it was necessary to cease paddling, during which the boat lost considerable way, I was unwilling to discourage the men, and reluctantly gave up my intention of ascertaining the depth, and the character of the bed. There was a general shout in the boat when we found ourselves in one fathom, and we soon after landed.'"

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We now resume Kit Carson's narrative. When the Indian-rubber boat was put in order, Colonel Fremont started, taking Carson and three others as companions. (Their names have already appeared.) The distance from the main land to the island is computed to be about three leagues, hence the pull at the oars, for landsmen unaccustomed to such kind of work, was no small task. However a landing upon the island was safely accomplished, the boat made fast and the investigations commenced. After examining most of the island without finding even a spring of water on it, it was determined to ascend the great hill which was the highest elevation on it. The party was not long in reaching the summit, where they found a shelving rock, on which they cut a cross, their names and the date as signs to after visitors, should any such follow in their footsteps, that they had been the first persons who had ever, within the knowledge of man, been on that island.

The day having been far spent in their labors, orders were given to camp on the island for the night. On the morrow they departed for the main land. When they had accomplished about one league, being one-third of the distance, the clouds suddenly gathered and threatened a storm. Just as this danger impended, the air which acted in giving buoyancy to the boat, by some accident, began to escape. A man was immediately stationed at the bellows and it required his constant aid to supply the portion which steadily escaped. Colonel Fremont then ordered the men to pull for their lives and try thus to escape the danger of the impending storm. In this instance, as indeed in every hour of peril, an all-seeing Providence guided them in safety to the shore. Soon after they arrived, the storm came on with such fury that it caused the water of the lake, according to the natural water mark, to rise ten feet in one hour.

The party soon after recommenced their march and proceeded some distance up the Bear River. Crossing it they went to the Malade and thence on until they reached Fort Hall. Here they met with the division under Fitzpatrick and made a short stay.

Once more Colonel Fremont started with his small party in advance of his main body. He marched about eight days' journey ahead, Fitzpatrick following up his trail with the larger division. At this time the expedition was journeying in the direction of the mouth of the Columbia River. In due time they arrived safely at the river Dalles. Here they made another brief halt. Colonel Fremont left Kit Carson in command of this camp, while he, with a small party, proceeded to Vancouver's Island and purchased some provisions. On his return he found that the whole party had become consolidated. The command now journeyed to Tlamath Lake in Oregon Territory. The descriptions of all these journeys have already been given to the public in several forms, all however based upon Colonel Fremont's reports made to the U.S. Government. It would be superfluous, therefore, for us to fill up the pages of the life of Kit Carson with matter already published beyond the occurrences appertaining to him. Having finished the observations upon Tlamath Lake, the expedition started for California. The route led through a barren and desolate country, rendering game scarce. As the command drew near to the Sierra Nevada Mountains, they were found to be entirely covered with deep snow throughout the entire range of vision. At this time the provisions had commenced giving out. Game was so scarce that it could not be depended on. The propositions which presented themselves at this crisis were to cross the mountains or take the fearful chance of starving to death. Crossing the mountains, terrible though the alternative, was the choice of all. It was better than inactivity and certain death. On arriving at the mountains the snow was found to be about six feet deep on a level. The first task was to manufacture snow-shoes for the entire party. By the aid of these foot appendages, an advance party was sent on to explore the route and to determine how far a path would have to be broken for the animals. This party reached a spot from whence they could see their way clear and found that the path for the animals would be three leagues in length. The advance party also saw, in the distance, the green valley of the Sacramento and the coast range of mountains. Kit Carson was the first man to recognize these, to the snow-bound travelers, desirable localities, although it was now seventeen years since he had last gazed upon them. The advance party then returned to their friends in the rear and reported their proceedings. All were delighted on learning that they had one man among them who knew where they were. The business of making the road was very laborious. The snow had to be beaten compact with mallets. It was fifteen days before the party succeeded in reaching, with a few of their animals, a place where the heavy work of the route was ended. During this time, many of their mules had starved to death, and the few remaining were driven to such an extreme by want of food, that they devoured one another's tails, the leather on the pack saddles; and, in fact, they would try to eat everything they could get into their mouths. The sufferings of the men had been as severe as had ever fallen to the lot of any mountaineer present. Their provisions were all used and they were driven to subsist upon the mules as they died from hunger. But, commander and all bore these terrible trials in an exemplary manner.

An incident is related by Colonel Fremont, in which Kit Carson enjoyed a cold-bath, which occurred during this terrible march. "February Twenty-third.—This was our most difficult day; we were forced off the ridges by the quantity of snow among the timber, and obliged to take to the mountain-sides, where, occasionally, rocks and a southern exposure afforded us a chance to scramble along. But these were steep and slippery with snow and ice; and the tough evergreens of the mountain impeded our way, tore our skins, and exhausted our patience. Some of us had the misfortune to wear moccasins with parflêche soles, so slippery that we could not keep our feet, and generally crawled across the snow beds. Axes and mauls were necessary to-day, 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 the rocks, but the parflêche 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 awhile 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."

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It was while undergoing such experience as we have endeavored to narrate that the characters of men show forth in their true light and can be fully analyzed. John C. Fremont never was found wanting in times such as tried men's hearts. He was worthy of the trust reposed in him. His was no ordinary command. The men he had to deal with, in their line, had no superiors on the American Continent; yet, he proved a match for any one of them and gained from them the name of being a good mountaineer, an encomium they are not prone to bestow lightly.

The party now commenced descending the mountains. On reaching the valley beneath, Fremont, taking Kit Carson and six of the men, pushed on in advance, in order to reach Sutter's Fort, where he would be able to purchase provisions. Fitzpatrick was left in charge of the main party, with orders to make easy marches. The second day after this division was made, Mr. Preuss, Fremont's assistant, accidentally got lost. His friends began making search for him. This failing, they traveled on slowly, fired guns and used every means in their power to let their whereabouts be known to him. After wandering about for four days, to the surprise and joy of his companions, he came into camp. During his absence he had subsisted on acorns and roots, and, as a matter of course, was nearly exhausted both in body and mind. Three days after Mr. Preuss was restored to them, Fremont, with the advance party, reached Sutter's Fort. He and his party were very hospitably received. They were entertained with the best the post could furnish, by its kind-hearted proprietor. Never did men more deserve such treatment. The condition of all was about as miserable as it could well be imagined, for men who retained their hold on life.

It was at Sutter's Fort, as most of our readers will remember, that the great gold mines of California first received their kindling spark, the discovery of that precious metal having been made there. While some men were digging a mill-race the alluring deposit first appeared. This event has made the Fort world-renowned.

At the time we describe Fremont on his second expedition, nothing whatever was known of the immense fields of treasure over which he and his men daily walked, although, for many years previous to the discovery being made, the mountaineers had trapped all the rivers in that vicinity, and on their banks had herded their animals for months together. They had drank thousands of times from the pure water as it flowed in the river's channel, and, no doubt, frequently their eyes had penetrated through it until they saw the sand beneath in which, perchance, the sparkling specs may have occasionally allured them sufficiently to recall the proverb that "all is not gold that glitters."

The writer once made inquiry of one of these mountaineers who had spent two summers in the manner narrated above near and at Sutter's Fort some twenty years since. He was asked whether he ever saw there anything in the shape of gold which in any way aroused his suspicions? His reply was: "Never. And had I, it would have been only for a brief space of time, as finally I should have been certain that I was deluded and mistaken, without there had been the Eagle of our country stamped upon it."

Provisions were immediately obtained at the Fort and carried to Fitzpatrick and his party. Great difficulty had now to be encountered to prevent the men from losing their lives by the sudden change from want to comparative luxury. Notwithstanding the utmost care was taken, some of the party lost their reason. The hardships of the journey had proved too much for them. Fitzpatrick and the main body arrived at the Fort in a few days, where they were likewise welcomed by its hospitable and generous proprietor, Captain Sutter. His name in California has ever been but another term for kindness and sympathy for the unfortunate. This expedition, in one respect only, can be called unfortunate. When the terrible sufferings of the commander and his men have been named, the catalogue of misfortune is ended. Its results, grand and glorious, have immortalized the name of every man who assisted, in any way, to accomplish it. "I belonged to the several Exploring Expeditions of John C. Fremont" is the key note to the respect and homage of the American nation; the truth would be equally real, if we add, to the whole civilized world. Every heart which beats with admiration for the heroic, or which is capable of appreciating the rich contributions to the sciences, direct resultants from their terrible sufferings, has thrilled with delight when possessed of the history which records the brilliant achievements of these Exploring Parties.

The band started from the little town of Kansas on the twenty-ninth day of May, 1843. It returned to the United States in August, 1844. After traveling seventeen hundred miles, it reached, September sixth, Salt Lake. On the fourth day of November it reached Fort Vancouver, on the Columbia River. On the sixth day of March, 1844, it reached Sutter's Fort in the destitute condition already explained. The distance from Fort Hall by the route taken is about two thousand miles. The party remained at Sutter's Fort until the twenty-fourth day of March, or as Kit Carson expresses the time from his memory, the expedition remained at this place about one month. At the expiration of this time, the party was sufficiently recruited to be ready for their return journey, which they commenced in April, 1844. Just previous to their taking leave of Mr. Sutter, two of the company became deranged, owing to the privations and fasting to which they had been obliged to submit before being ushered into a land of plenty. They had indulged appetite too freely, and brought on one of those strange revolutions in the brain's action which never fails to excite the pity of friend and foe. The first warning which the party had that one of the men was laboring under a disordered intellect occurred in the following manner. Early in the morning the man suddenly started from his sleep and began to ask his companions where his riding animal was gone. During this time it was by him, but he did not know it. Unknown to the rest of the party he started off soon after in search of his imaginary animal. As soon as his absence became known to Fremont, he surmised the truth and sent persons in all directions to hunt for him. They searched the neighboring country for many miles and made inquiries of all the friendly Indians they chanced upon, but failed to discover him. Several days of delay was caused by this most unhappy circumstance. Finally, it becoming necessary for the party to depart without him, word was left with Mr. Sutter to continue the hunt. He did so most faithfully; and, by his exertions, some time after the party had set out on the return trip, the maniac was found and kept at the Fort until he had entirely recovered. He was then, on the first opportunity, provided with a passage to the United States. Before we follow the party on their homeward-bound tramp, it is proper that the reader should be favored with the estimate and views which the American historian, statesman and scholar, Colonel Benton, has recorded concerning the perils undergone and results accomplished by this expedition. His pen is so graphic and life-like that the reader will doubtless thank us for the extract. Besides presenting a view of the expedition, it will unfold a fact which shows where the origin of the expedition had its conception. We give all he says concerning the expedition.[¹⁷]

"'The government deserves credit for the zeal with which it has pursued geographical discovery.' Such is the remark which a leading paper made upon the discoveries of Fremont, on his return from his second expedition to the great West; and such is the remark which all writers will make upon all his discoveries who write history from public documents and outside views. With all such writers the expeditions of Fremont will be credited to the zeal of the government for the promotion of science, as if the government under which he acted had conceived and planned these expeditions, as Mr. Jefferson did that of Lewis and Clark, and then selected this young officer to carry into effect the instructions delivered to him. How far such history would be true in relation to the first expedition, which terminated in the Rocky Mountains, has been seen in the account which has been given of the origin of that undertaking, and which leaves the government innocent of its conception; and, therefore, not entitled to the credit of its authorship, but only to the merit of permitting it. In the second, and greater expedition, from which great political as well as scientific results have flowed, their merit is still less; for, while equally innocent of its conception, they were not equally passive to its performance—countermanding the expedition after it had begun—and lavishing censure upon the adventurous young explorer for his manner of undertaking it. The fact was, that his first expedition barely finished, Mr. Fremont sought and obtained orders for a second one, and was on the frontier of Missouri with his command when orders arrived at St. Louis to stop him, on the ground that he had made a military equipment which the peaceful nature of his geographical pursuit did not require! as if Indians did not kill and rob scientific men as well as others if not in a condition to defend themselves. The particular point of complaint was that he had taken a small mountain howitzer, in addition to his rifles; and which he was informed, was charged to him, although it had been furnished upon a regular requisition on the commandant of the arsenal at St. Louis, approved by the commander of the military department (Colonel, afterward General Kearney). Mr. Fremont had left St. Louis, and was at the frontier, Mrs. Fremont being requested to examine the letters that came after him, and forward those which he ought to receive. She read the countermanding orders and detained them! and Fremont knew nothing of their existence, until after he had returned from one of the most marvellous and eventful expeditions of modern times—one to which the United States are indebted (among other things) for the present ownership of California, instead of seeing it a British possession. The writer of this View, who was then in St. Louis, approved of the course which his daughter had taken (for she had stopped the orders before he knew it); and he wrote a letter to the department condemning the recall, repulsing the reprimand which had been lavished upon Fremont, and demanding a court-martial for him when he should return. The Secretary of War was then Mr. James Madison Porter, of Pennsylvania; the chief of the topographical corps the same as now (Colonel Abert), himself an office man, surrounded by West Point officers, to whose pursuit of easy service, Fremont's adventurous expeditions was a reproach; and in conformity to whose opinions the secretary seemed to have acted. On Fremont's return, upwards of a year afterwards, Mr. William Wilkins, of Pennsylvania, was Secretary of War, and received the young explorer with all honor and friendship, and obtained for him the brevet of captain from President Tyler. And such is the inside view of this piece of history—very different from what documentary evidence would make it.

"To complete his survey across the continent, on the line of travel between the State of Missouri and the tide-water region of the Columbia, was Fremont's object in this expedition; and it was all that he had obtained orders for doing; but only a small part, and to his mind an insignificant part, of what he proposed doing. People had been to the mouth of the Columbia before, and his ambition was not limited to making tracks where others had made them before him. There was a vast region beyond the Rocky Mountains—the whole western slope of our continent—of which but little was known; and of that little, nothing with the accuracy of science. All that vast region, more than seven hundred miles square—equal to a great kingdom in Europe—was an unknown land—a sealed book, which he longed to open, and to read. Leaving the frontier of Missouri in May, 1843, and often diverging from his route for the sake of expanding his field of observation, he had arrived in the tide-water region of Columbia in the month of November; and had then completed the whole service which his orders embraced. He might then have returned upon his tracks, or been brought home by sea, or hunted the most pleasant path for getting back; and if he had been a routine officer, satisfied with fulfilling an order, he would have done so. Not so the young explorer, who held his diploma from nature, and not from the United States Military Academy. He was at Fort Vancouver, guest of the hospitable Dr. McLaughlin, Governor of the British Hudson Bay Fur Company; and obtained from him all possible information upon his intended line of return—faithfully given, but which proved to be disastrously erroneous in its leading and governing feature. A southeast route to cross the great unknown region diagonally through its heart (making a line from the Lower Columbia to the Upper Colorado of the Gulf of California), was his line of return; twenty-five men (the same who had come with him from the United States) and a hundred horses were his equipment; and the commencement of winter the time of starting—all without a guide, relying upon their guns for support; and, in the last resort, upon their horses—such as should give out! for one that could carry a man, or a pack, could not be spared for food.

"All the maps up to that time had shown this region traversed from east to west—from the base of the Rocky Mountains to the Bay of San Francisco—by a great river called the Buena Ventura: which may be translated, the Good Chance. Governor McLaughlin believed in the existence of this river, and made out a conjectural manuscript map to show its place and course. Fremont believed in it, and his plan was to reach it before the dead of winter, and then hybernate upon it. As a great river he knew that it must have some rich bottoms, covered with wood and grass, where the wild animals would collect and shelter, when the snows and freezing winds drove them from the plains; and with these animals to live on, and grass for the horses, and wood for fires, he expected to avoid suffering, if not to enjoy comfort, during his solitary sojourn in that remote and profound wilderness.

"He proceeded—soon encountered deep snows which impeded progress upon the highlands—descended into a low country to the left (afterwards known to be the Great Basin, from which no water issues to any sea)—skirted an enormous chain of mountain on the right, luminous with glittering white snow—saw strange Indians, who mostly fled—found a desert—no Buena Ventura; and death from cold and famine staring him in the face. The failure to find the river, or tidings of it, and the possibility of its existence seeming to be forbid by the structure of the country, and hybernation in the inhospitable desert being impossible, and the question being that of life and death, some new plan of conduct became indispensable. His celestial observations told him that he was in the latitude of the Bay of San Francisco, and only seventy miles from it. But what miles! up and down that snowy mountain which the Indians told him no men could cross in the winter—which would have snow upon it as deep as the trees, and places where people would slip off and fall half a mile at a time—a fate which actually befell a mule, packed with the precious burden of botanical specimens, collected along a travel of two thousand miles. No reward could induce an Indian to become a guide in the perilous adventure of crossing this mountain. All recoiled and fled from the adventure. It was attempted without a guide—in the dead of winter—accomplished in forty days—the men and surviving horses—a woeful procession, crawling along one by one; skeleton men leading skeleton horses—and arriving at Sutter's Settlement in the beautiful valley of the Sacramento; and where a genial warmth, and budding flowers, and trees in foliage, and grassy ground, and flowing streams, and comfortable food, made a fairy contrast with the famine and freezing they had encountered, and the lofty Sierra Nevada which they had climbed. Here he rested and recruited; and from this point, and by way of Monterey, the first tidings were heard of the party since leaving Fort Vancouver.

"Another long progress to the south, skirting the western base of the Sierra Nevada, made him acquainted with the noble valley of the San Joaquin, counterpart to that of the Sacramento; when crossing through a gap, and turning to the left, he skirted the Great Basin; and by many deviations from the right line home, levied incessant contributions to science from expanded lands, not described before. In this eventful exploration, all the great features of the western slope of our continent were brought to light—the Great Salt Lake, the Utah Lake, the Little Salt Lake; at all which places, then deserts, the Mormons now are; the Sierra Nevada, then solitary in the snow, now crowded with Americans, digging gold from its flanks: the beautiful valleys of the Sacramento and San Joaquin, then alive with wild horses, elk, deer, and wild fowls, now smiling with American cultivation; the Great Basin itself and its contents; the Three Parks; the approximation of the great rivers which, rising together in the central region of the Rocky Mountains, go off east and west, towards the rising and the setting sun—all these, and other strange features of a new region, more Asiatic than American, were brought to light and revealed to public view in the results of this exploration.

"Eleven months he was never out of sight of snow; and sometimes, freezing with cold, would look down upon a sunny valley, warm with genial heat;—sometimes panting with the summer's heat, would look up at the eternal snows which crowned the neighboring mountain. But it was not then that California was secured to the Union—to the greatest power of the New World—to which it of right belonged; but it was the first step towards the acquisition, and the one that led to it. The second expedition led to a third, just in time to snatch the golden California from the hands of the British, ready to clutch it. But of this hereafter. Fremont's second expedition was now over. He had left the United States a fugitive from his government, and returned with a name that went over Europe and America, and with discoveries bearing fruit which the civilized world is now enjoying."

On their homeward-bound journey, the party followed up the valley of the San Joaquin crossing over the Sierra Nevada and coast range of mountains at a point where they join and form a beautiful low pass. They continued on from here close under the coast range until they struck the Spanish Trail. This they followed to the Mohave River. That stream, it will be recollected, was an old friend of Kit Carson's. The reader will recall the many times he had caught beaver out of its waters. They followed the trail up the course of the river to where it leaves it. At this point an event occurred which somewhat retarded their progress, relieving the monotony of the route and somewhat changing their plans.

Soon after the camp had been formed, they were visited by a Mexican man and boy; the one named Andreas Fuentes, the other Pablo Hernandez. They informed Fremont that they belonged to a party of Mexican traders which had come from New Mexico. They said that six of them, including in this number two women who acted as cooks, had been left by their friends in charge of a band of horses. The rest of the party were absent trafficking. The party of six thus left to watch the horses, consisted of Santiago Giacome, Andreas Fuentes and wife, and Pablo Hernandez, together with his father and mother. They were endeavoring to find better grazing for their animals. For this purpose they had penetrated the country as far as they dared; and, at about eighty miles from the camp of Fremont, had resolved to wait for their friends. Fuentes and the boy Pablo were on guard over the animals when their camp was attacked by hostile savages. The attacking band was about thirty in number.

Their principal object was to seize the horses. To effect this the more easily, they saluted the little band with a flight of arrows as they advanced. Fuentes and Pablo now heard Giacome warning them to start the horses and run for it. Both were mounted. They obeyed the directions of Giacome and with the entire band of horses charged boldly into the midst of the Indians regardless of their weapons. The charge succeeded in breaking their line, through which Fuentes and Pablo boldly dashed after their animals. The Indians deferred the chase to attend to a more bloody purpose. Having put sixty miles between them and the site of the attack, they left their horses and started in search of their main body. This search led them into Fremont's camp. Fuentes feared that the worst had overtaken his wife. Pablo already looked upon himself as an orphan boy. He doubted not that the bloody savages had murdered both his father and mother. It was a sad picture to witness their grief. But Kit Carson could not do so unmoved. The heart of such grief has ever awakened his earnest sympathy. His sympathy, too, has never been of a wordy nature. He volunteered to go with Fuentes and make an attempt to deliver the captives, if such they should prove, or to avenge their death, if that became the sad alternative.

Fuentes had left the horses at a spring of water, well known to Carson. There he had found signs of white men which had led him into Fremont's camp. There was no difficulty for Carson to find the spring. The whole company therefore traveled to the spring, which they reached early the next morning, distant about thirty miles from their last camp. The horses were not to be seen. A short examination of signs soon revealed to Carson and Godey that the two Mexicans had been followed by the Indians and that they had come upon the horses shortly after they had left them. Of course therefore they had captured and driven them off.

Carson and Godey were determined to make one effort to punish the rascals. They started, taking Fuentes with them, upon the trail of the Indians. The chase was a severe one, as, in the judgment of the mountaineers, the Indians would not make a short trail after acquiring so much booty. The horse which Fuentes rode, most unfortunately, gave out after a short ride. There was no time to be lost and no means at hand to supply this important deficiency. To turn back to camp would supply it, but that course would also lose them their game. Fuentes, therefore, was requested to return to Fremont's camp, and there await the return of Kit Carson and Godey. These two had been the only men in the entire command who had volunteered in this chase. The loss of Fuentes therefore made their task literally a Don Quixotic adventure. Two men against thirty. But Kit Carson was not the man to turn his back upon an adventure as soon as the difficulties began to present themselves. He well knew that he had one man on whom he could rely. Richard Godey was his tried and trusty friend, his kindred spirit and a noble hearted man. Leaving the Mexican to find his way back to camp, a distance of about twenty miles, they gave him their word that they would finish the business. The following night was very dark, and in order to keep on the right scent Carson and Godey were obliged to lead their horses and frequently to follow the trail by the sense of feeling. It was seldom, however, that they lost the path, and never for more than a few moments at a time. Gradually the signs grew fresher as they advanced, which gave them the assurance that they were rapidly gaining on the pursuit. Finally, they concluded that only a few hours separated them from the savages. Having accomplished a considerable part of their journey during the night, and finding that both themselves and their horses required rest, they concluded to halt. Having unsaddled their animals and turned them out to graze, they wrapped themselves up in their wet blankets and laid down to sleep. The weather, however, was too cold to permit sleeping in comfort without a fire. That they dare not make, fearing it would prove a warning signal to the savages. Having worried through the remainder of this cold and cheerless night, they arose early in the morning and went to the bottom of a deep ravine where they kindled a small fire and succeeded in warming themselves. At daybreak they re-saddled their jaded horses and once more started upon the trail. Just as the sun was rising they discovered the Indians. When first seen they were encamped two miles in advance, and were enjoying a breakfast on horse steaks, having already killed five of the stolen animals. Kit Carson and his friend dismounted, and, concealing their horses near by, held a council of war. They decided to crawl in among the herd of stolen animals which were grazing, without guard, at a short distance from the camp of the savages. Upon reaching the horses, they agreed to be guided by circumstances. First divesting themselves of all useless apparel, they commenced their task. After much cautious labor they gained their point and stood among the animals. As soon, however, as they arrived, one of the young horses of the band became frightened at the grotesque figures cut by the two creeping men and exhibited his fear by snorting and kicking up his heels. This alarmed the remainder of the horses and caused quite a commotion among them, which had the effect to alarm the savages, who sprang for their arms. With a yell, Carson and Godey instantly turned towards the savages. As soon as they were all fairly in view the two white men saw that they had thirty warriors before them to deal with. When they had advanced within rifle range Kit Carson halted and, aiming his rifle at the stoutest looking brave, fired. The fierce savage fell with a cry of anguish. Godey had also halted and fired, but he missed his aim. Instantly reloading, he made the second attempt and this time brought down a warrior. While these events were taking place the red men were running about in great confusion. Occasionally they returned a few arrows, but they all proved but harmless missiles. The fact was the Indians were puzzled what to think of the audacity of the two men. Evidently they considered them to be an advance party of some strong force, acting with a view of decoying them into a close fight. Acting upon this they began to fly in every direction except that from which danger impended. Kit and Godey, as they had calculated, were thus, quite unceremoniously, left masters of the enemy's camp. Besides the recaptured horses, they had two trophies lying upon the ground in the shape of a brace of stalwart warriors. In order to show their companions on their return that they were not given to boasting, they followed the example and practice of the savages and scalped the two Indians. The common expression now in use is that they proceeded to "take the hair" of their victims. The performance of this act was a matter of choice and fell to the lot of Godey, while Kit Carson, with the two rifles, ascended an eminence near at hand for the double purpose of standing guard over his companion and also to reconnoitre. Godey commenced his operations on the savage which he himself had shot. Having finished with him, he started for the other Indian hit by Kit Carson. But this fellow after he had fallen had crawled quite out of view among some rocks. Being only wounded, he raised up and sent an arrow at Godey as he approached which pierced his shirt collar. The Indian had already lost a large amount of blood. His last act so exhausted him that he sank back upon the ground and expired. They next proceeded to collect the horses. Upon counting them they found the number stated by the Mexican to be correct with the exception of five killed by the Indians for their feast. The animals were now driven to the spot where their own horses had been left.. Here they held another council and determined to seek out the fate of the remainder of the Mexican party. They therefore bent their steps towards the late camp of the Mexicans. There they found the bodies of the two men terribly mangled. The savage ferocity of the rascally savages had here had full play as soon as they found that the two who were on guard had broken through their line and escaped with the horses. Their bodies were naked and full of arrows. The women were not to be found. The remains were decently interred by Carson and Godey, and then they set about looking for the women. After a long search they could discover nothing of them, and concluded that they had been reserved for a worse fate. The remains of these two poor captives were afterwards found by some of Fremont's men. The Indians, not satisfied with killing them, had staked their bodies to the ground. Kit Carson and Godey having now accomplished, on this errand of mercy, all that lay in the power of man to do, set out to return and soon rejoined their friends, whom they found anxiously waiting for them. Col. Fremont concludes his account of this affair in the following words:

"Their object accomplished, our men gathered up all the surviving horses, fifteen in number, returned upon their trail, and rejoined us at our camp in the afternoon of the same day. They had rode about one hundred miles in the pursuit and return, and all in thirty hours. The time, place, object, and numbers considered, this expedition of Carson and Godey may be considered among the boldest and most disinterested which the annals of western adventure, so full of daring deeds, can present. Two men, in a savage desert, pursue day and night an unknown body of Indians into the defiles of an unknown mountain—attack them on sight, without counting numbers—and defeat them in an instant—and for what? To punish the robbers of the desert, and to avenge the wrongs of Mexicans whom they did not know. I repeat: it was Carson and Godey who did this—the former an American, born in Kentucky; the latter a Frenchman by descent, born in St. Louis; and both trained to western enterprise from early life."

The stolen property was restored to the Mexicans without one cent being demanded or received by either Carson or Godey.

It was not for the love of Indian fighting as many may suppose, that Kit Carson was moved to take part in such expeditions; but, when the life of a fellow-creature is exposed to Indian barbarities, no living man is more willing, or more capable of rendering a lasting service than Christopher Carson. A name that, wherever it is known, is ranked among the "bravest of the brave."

Soon after the two volunteers came in, Fremont resumed his journey and continued it without anything transpiring to disturb the equanimity of the party until they reached a point on the Virgin River where the Spanish Trail leaves it. It became necessary to change camps here, in order that the animals might take advantage of better grass. As the party were enjoying a day's rest, one of the men, a Canadian by birth, missed his riding mule from the herd. Without informing any of his friends of his intentions, he started out in quest of the animal. His absence, at first, was not noticed; but, soon, inquiries were made for him, and when an unusual length of time had passed without his return, Fremont became anxious for his safety. He directed Kit Carson to take three men and go in search of him. On arriving at their last camp, Kit found a spot where, undoubtedly, the man had fallen from his horse wounded, as, about the place, there were pools of coagulated blood. It was now believed that their companion was dead. Kit immediately ordered the party to search for his body, but they could not find it. They then followed the trail of the Canadian's horse, which it was very evident he had caught and mounted before being shot. It led to where the animal had crossed the river. There, all signs disappeared. After a faithful search for the trail, Kit returned to camp, and informed his commander of the result of his day's work. The next morning the search was renewed by all of the company. They discovered Indian signs, yet could not trace them to where the body was. After looking in every conceivable hiding-place in the neighborhood of the signs, they gave up the hunt. Kit Carson was much affected by the loss of this man. He had been his friend. They had been associated in many trapping expeditions, and knew each other most intimately. He felt assured that, if the Canadian had not been surprised by any enemy in ambuscade, he would have killed one or two Indians before he himself fell; for, besides being a very brave man, he was well versed in Indian mode of warfare, and was considered a fine marksman.

The party now proceeded on their journey, returning to and keeping on the Spanish Trail, which was not left until they reached the "Vega of Santa Clara." There they struck out across the country to the Utah lake, which, after crossing, they left, and went to the Wintry River, and thence to Green River, Brown's Hole, Little Snake River, and so on to the mouth of St. Vrain's Fork. It was here that they traversed the mountains and came upon Laramie River below the New Park. They journeyed through this into the Old Park, and thence traveled to the head waters of the south fork of the Platte. On quitting it, they bent their way to the Arkansas River, coming on to it at a point just below the place where it leaves the Rocky Mountains; and, by keeping on down it, they arrived at Bent's Fort on the 2d of July, 1844. On the following fourth of July Mr. Bent gave a dinner in commemoration of the occasion to Fremont and his party. Although hundreds of miles separated from their countrymen, yet they sat down to as sumptuous a repast as could be furnished in many towns of the States.

The exploring party considered their labors finished at this post, as, in accordance with the tastes of many of the party, they were near enough to civilization. The command was dissolved, and Colonel Fremont proceeded on his route to Washington. Kit Carson, about the same time, started for Taos, where he had been for a long time anxiously expected by his family and friends.

The description which Colonel Fremont has given of the country through which this expedition traveled, seems to be an appropriate and almost a necessary addition to this work. On the 24th day of May the party, on their return, reached the Utah Lake. "Early the next day," says Fremont, "we came in sight of the lake; and, as we descended to the broad bottoms of the Spanish Fork, three horsemen were seen galloping towards us, who proved to be Utah Indians—scouts from a village, which was encamped near the mouth of the river. They were armed with rifles, and their horses were in good condition. We encamped near them, on the Spanish Fork, which is one of the principal tributaries to the lake. Finding the Indians troublesome, and desirous to remain here a day, we removed the next morning further down the lake, and encamped on a fertile bottom near the foot of the same mountainous ridge which borders the Great Salt Lake, and along which we had journeyed the previous September.

"We had now accomplished an object we had in view when leaving the Dalles of the Columbia in November last; we had reached the Utah Lake; but by a route very different from what we had intended, and without sufficient time remaining to make the examinations which were desired. It is a lake of note in this country, under the dominion of the Utahs, who resort to it for fish. Its greatest breadth is about fifteen miles, stretching far to the north, narrowing as it goes, and connecting with the Great Salt Lake.

"In arriving at the Utah Lake, we had completed an immense circuit of twelve degrees diameter north and south, and ten degrees east and west; and found ourselves in May, 1844, on the same sheet of water which we had left in September, 1843. The Utah is the southern limb of the Great Salt Lake; and thus we had seen that remarkable sheet of water both at its northern and southern extremity, and were able to fix its position at these two points. The circuit which we had made, and which had cost us eight months of time, and 3,500 miles of traveling, had given us a view of Oregon and of North California from the Rocky Mountains to the Pacific Ocean, and of the two principal streams which form bays or harbors on the coast of that sea. Having completed this circuit, and being now about to turn the back upon the Pacific slope of our continent, and to recross the Rocky Mountains, it is natural to look back upon our footsteps, and take some brief view of the leading features and general structure of the country we have traversed. These are peculiar and striking, and differ essentially from the Atlantic side of our country. The mountains all are higher, more numerous, and more distinctly defined in their ranges and directions; and, what is so contrary to the natural order of such formations, one of these, ranges, which is near the coast (the Sierra Nevada and the Coast Range), presents higher elevations and peaks than any which are to be found in the Rocky Mountains themselves. In our eight months' circuit, we were never out, of sight of snow; and the Sierra Nevada, where we crossed it, was near 2,000 feet higher than the South Pass in the Rocky Mountains. In height, these mountains greatly exceed those of the Atlantic side, constantly presenting peaks which enter the region of eternal snow; and some of them volcanic, and in a frequent state of activity. They are seen at great distances and guide the traveler in his courses.

"The course and elevation of these ranges give direction to the rivers, and character to the coast. No great river does, or can, take its rise below the Cascade and Sierra Nevada Range; the distance to the sea is too short to admit of it. The rivers of the San Francisco Bay, which are the largest after the Columbia, are local to that bay, and lateral to the coast, having their sources about on a line with the Dalles of the Columbia, and running each in a valley of its own, between the Coast Range and the Cascade and Sierra Nevada Range. The Columbia is the only river which traverses the whole breadth of the country, breaking through all the ranges, and entering the sea. Drawing its waters from a section of ten degrees of latitude in the Rocky Mountains, which are collected into one stream by three main forks (Lewis's, Clark's, and the North Fork), near the centre of the Oregon valley, this great river thence proceeds by a single channel to the sea, while its three forks lead each to a pass in the mountains, which opens the way into the interior of the continent. This fact in relation to the rivers of this region gives an immense value to the Columbia. Its mouth is the only inlet and outlet to and from the sea; its three forks lead to the passes in the mountains; it is, therefore, the only line of communication between the Pacific and the interior of North America; and all operations of war or commerce, of national or social intercourse, must be conducted upon it. This gives it a value beyond estimation, and would involve irreparable injury if lost. In this unity and concentration of its waters, the Pacific side of our continent differs entirely from the Atlantic side, where the waters of the Alleghany Mountains are dispersed into many rivers, having their different entrances into the sea, and opening many lines of communication with the interior."

"The Pacific coast is equally different from that of the Atlantic. The coast of the Atlantic is low and open, indented with numerous bays, sounds, and river estuaries, accessible everywhere, and opening by many channels into the heart of the country. The Pacific coast, on the contrary, is high and compact, with few bays, and but one that opens into the heart of the country. The immediate coast is what the seamen call iron bound. A little within, it is skirted by two successive ranges of mountains, standing as ramparts between the sea and the interior country; and to get through which, there is but one gate, and that narrow and easily defended. This structure of the coast, backed by these two ranges of mountains, with its concentration and unity of waters, gives to the country an immense military strength, and will probably render Oregon the most impregnable country in the world."

"Differing so much from the Atlantic side of our continent in coast, mountains, and rivers, the Pacific side differs from it in another most rare and singular feature—that of the Great interior Basin, of which I have so often spoken, and the whole form and character of which I was so anxious to ascertain. Its existence is vouched for by such of the American traders and hunters as have some knowledge of that region; the structure of the Sierra Nevada range of mountains requires it to be there; and my own observations confirm it. Mr. Joseph Walker, who is so well acquainted in those parts, informed that, from the Great Salt Lake west, there was a succession of lakes and rivers which have no outlet to the sea, nor any connection with the Columbia, or with the Colorado of the Gulf of California. He described some of these lakes as being large, with numerous streams, and even considerable rivers, falling into them. In fact, all concur in the general report of these interior rivers and lakes; and, for want of understanding the force and power of evaporation, which so soon establishes an equilibrium between the loss and supply of waters, the fable of whirlpools and subterraneous outlets has gained belief as the only imaginable way of carrying off the waters which have no visible discharge. The structure of the country would require this formation of interior lakes; for the waters which would collect between the Rocky Mountains and the Sierra Nevada, not being able to cross this formidable barrier, nor to get to the Columbia or the Colorado, must naturally collect into reservoirs, each of which would have its little system of streams and rivers to supply it. This would be the natural effect; and what I saw went to confirm it. The Great Salt Lake is a formation of this kind, and quite a large one; and having many streams, and one considerable river, four or five hundred miles long, falling into it. This lake and river I saw and examined myself; and also saw the Wahsatch and Bear River Mountains which inclose the waters of the lake on the east, and constitute, in that quarter, the rim of the Great Basin. Afterwards, along the eastern base of the Sierra Nevada, where we traveled for forty-two days, I saw the line of lakes and rivers which lie at the foot of that Sierra; and which Sierra is the western rim of the Basin. In going down Lewis's Fork and the main Columbia, I crossed only inferior streams coming in from the left, such as could draw their water from a short distance only; and I often saw the mountains at their heads, white with snow; which, all accounts said, divided the waters of the desert from those of the Columbia, and which could be no other than the range of mountains which form the rim of the Basin on its northern side. And in returning from California along the Spanish trail, as far as the head of the Santa Clara Fork of the Rio Virgen, I crossed only small streams making their way south to the Colorado, or lost in sand—as the Mo-hah-ve; while to the left, lofty mountains, their summits white with snow, were often visible, and which must have turned water to the north as well as to the south, and thus constituted, on this part, the southern rim of the Basin. At the head of the Santa Clara Fork, and in the Vegas de Santa Clara, we crossed the ridge which parted the two systems of waters. We entered the Basin at that point, and have traveled in it ever since, having its southeastern rim (the Wahsatch Mountain) on the right, and crossing the streams which flow down into it. The existence of the Basin is, therefore, an established fact in my mind; its extent and contents are yet to be better ascertained. It cannot be less than four or five hundred miles each way, and must lie principally in the Alta California; the demarcation latitude of 42° probably cutting a segment from the north part of the rim. Of its interior, but little is known. It is called a desert, and, from what I saw of it, sterility may be its prominent characteristic; but where there is so much water there must be some oasis. The great river and the great lake reported may not be equal to the report; but where there is so much snow, there must be streams; and where there is no outlet, there must be lakes to hold the accumulated waters, or sands to swallow them up. In this eastern part of the basin, containing Sevier, Utah, and the Great Salt lakes, and the rivers and creeks falling into them, we know there is good soil and good grass, adapted to civilized settlements. In the western part, on Salmon-trout River, and some other streams, the same remark may be made."

"The contents of this Great Basin are yet to be examined. That it is peopled, we know; but miserably and sparsely. From all that I heard and saw, I should say that humanity here appeared in its lowest form, and in its most elementary state. Dispersed in single families; without fire-arms; eating seeds and insects; digging roots (and hence their name); such is the condition of the greater part. Others are a degree higher, and live in communities upon some lake or river that supplies fish, and from which they repulse the miserable digger. The rabbit is the largest animal known in this desert; its flesh affords a little meat; and their bag-like covering is made of its skins. The wild sage is their only wood, and here it is of extraordinary size—sometimes a foot in diameter, and six or eight feet high. It serves for fuel, for building material, for shelter to the rabbits, and for some sort of covering for the feet and legs in cold weather. Such are the accounts of the inhabitants and productions of the Great Basin; and which, though imperfect, must have some foundation, and excite our desire to know the whole."

"The whole idea of such a desert and such a people, is a novelty in our country, and excites Asiatic, not American ideas. Interior basins, with their own systems of lakes and rivers, and often sterile, are common enough in Asia; people in the elementary state of families, living in deserts, with no other occupation than the mere animal search for food, may still be seen in that ancient quarter of the globe; but in America such things are new and strange, unknown and unsuspected, and discredited when related. But I flatter myself that what is discovered, though not enough to satisfy curiosity, is sufficient to excite it, and that subsequent explorations will complete what has been commenced."

"This account of the Great Basin, it will be remembered, belongs to the Alta California, and has no application to Oregon, whose capabilities may justify a separate remark. Referring to my journal for particular descriptions, and for sectional boundaries between good and bad districts, I can only say, in general and comparative terms, that, in that branch of agriculture which implies the cultivation of grains and staple crops, it would be inferior to the Atlantic States, though many parts are superior for wheat, while in the rearing of flocks and herds it would claim a high place. Its grazing capabilities are great; and even in the indigenous grass now there, an element of individual and national wealth may be found. In fact the valuable grasses begin within one hundred and fifty miles of the Missouri frontier and extend to the Pacific Ocean. East of the Rocky Mountains, it is the short, curly grass, on which the buffalo delight to feed (whence its name of buffalo), and which is still good when dry and apparently dead. West of those mountains it is a larger growth, in clusters, and hence called bunch grass, and which has a second or fall growth. Plains and mountains both exhibit them; and I have seen good pasturage at an elevation of ten thousand feet. In this spontaneous product, the trading or traveling caravans can find subsistence for their animals; and in military operations any number of cavalry may be moved, and any number of cattle may be driven, and thus men and horses be supported on long expeditions, and even in winter in the sheltered situations.

"Commercially, the value of the Oregon country must be great, washed as it is by the North Pacific Ocean, fronting Asia, producing many of the elements of commerce, mild and healthy in its climate, and becoming, as it naturally will, a thoroughfare for the East India and China trade."

Col. Fremont, in this beautiful and instructive passage of descriptive writing, refers to the grass on which the buffalo "delight to feed." It is eminently proper that we should add a few words for general information concerning the grasses of the prairies, as also concerning the timber, flowers, game, face of the country, etc., etc., in which the whole life of Kit Carson has been spent.

On the west side of the Arkansas River, and between that stream and the Rocky Mountains, there are three distinct species of grass found. The first is the short, curly variety, on which the buffalo are said to feed, from which fact it takes its name. The second kind is the Grama grass, which is, I believe, indigenous to only this section of America. Its stalk grows to the height of about one foot. Near its top, it gives off, at right angles, another stem, which is usually from one and a half to three inches in length. From this last-mentioned stem, hang clusters of seeds which are well protected by a suitable covering. It is said, and my own observation confirms the fact, that horses will leave grain, such as corn and oats, to feed on this grass; and its wonderful nutritious properties cannot be denied. Wild oats are often seen in the mountain valleys. Along the low swampy lands which skirt the rivers of the plains, there is yet another species of grass which grows oftentimes several feet high, and has a broad blade, similar almost to that of the flag plant. On approaching the mountains the blue grass is found, which is nearly the same as that usually met with in many of our western States. The bunch grass, as spoken of by Fremont, is not confined to the mountains in New Mexico; it is sometimes met with in the valleys, where it grows to an immense height; but, in the low lands, it is useless, being too tough for animals to masticate. Strangers, when journeying in these parts, often make the mistake of selecting camps in this tall grass, being deceived by its thrifty appearance; but, one night, thus spent, will clearly prove its utter worthlessness.

On the plains there are but few wild flowers; but, as the traveler approaches the mountains, they greet his eyes in extensive beds and of variegated colors. As a grazing country, the Rocky Mountains and their immediate vicinity cannot be surpassed. The timber found there is poor in quality. It comprises pine, cedar, and cotton wood, with here and there patches of small and crooked oak bushes. The rivers in the mountains are formed from melting snows and springs. They come tumbling down through rough gorges and rocky cañons, until they are free in the valleys, where, they form bold and beautiful rivers. The brook trout are the fish which mostly inhabit them, and, a singular fact, in many of these streams this kind of fish treat the presence of a man with perfect indifference, which has led me to believe, that in their primitive state, the "shy trout" fear neither man nor beast. The Indians catch them, and it may be that this fish is first frightened by them. In the Rocky Mountains, south of the head waters of the Arkansas, comparatively speaking, there are but few small birds and squirrels. The raven, the crow, the hawk, the owl, and occasionally the eagle, are seen. Wild geese, ducks, and cranes, are common. Pigeons, including the wild dove, are not often seen. The magpie is found in abundance. Turkeys and grouse are also in abundance. Wild rabbits and a species of hare are also common. Indeed a man can travel for days in the Rocky Mountains and never hear the musical notes of a bird. In these mountains, rattle-snakes are only found in the valleys, where it is warm. In the summer, the deer and elk live in the mountains; but, when cold weather sets in, they are driven out of them by the deep snows. The antelope of the plains seek the mountain valleys during the winter. The buffalo migrate south as the season becomes too severe for them. Sometimes they are caught by the storms, and are obliged to winter also in the mountain valleys. The pine trees of the Rocky Mountains bear a small nut, which is called by the Mexicans piñon, which, when cooked, are quite pleasant to the taste. There are many small salt lakes in the mountains, and many marshes, where the ground is covered white by the salt deposit. The mineral wealth of the Rocky Mountains is very great, and there is no doubt but some day, rich veins of gold, silver, and iron ore will be discovered there. The geological formation of the country is such as to warrant this belief. Nearly every stream carries down in its floods that precious metal, gold; but, in such small quantities, as not to attract the attention of miners. I have found there, on the surface of the earth, small pieces of material resembling stone coal, which have probably been thrown up by some volcanic action. Hot and mineral springs are not unfrequently met with. They are places of frequent resort by the Indians, who use them for medicinal purposes.