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

by De Witt C. Peters

It is thus that we might go on and fill page after page with this picture-talk of the trappers. Some of their yarns are pretty tightly strained, but most of them contain a capital hit and are usually founded on the facts. It is a well authenticated fact that the beaver has but one mate; and, that they live together a loving couple, as if husband and wife. As to their liaisons, coquetry, flirting and so forth, doubtless the society in some parts of the human family will bear a faithful resemblance in these respects also. As an example of industry the world will look in vain for a better one than is afforded by the little beaver of the Western Rivers. Look at them patiently felling the tallest trees; and, so nicely adjusting their fall and calculating their height, that they strike the opposite bank of their stream gaining a fixed and permanent lodgment. It is thus that these wonderful little creatures will often erect dams across wide rivers and effectually stop the rushing torrents.

As has appeared, after collecting the six horses, Kit Carson returned with them safely into camp. A few days subsequent to this occurrence, a band of trappers belonging to another party en route, entered the camp. These men reported that Fitzpatrick and Bridger were encamped on Snake River distant about fifteen days' journey. This was too good news for Captain Lee and Kit to warrant their remaining any longer idle. They doubted not but that they should be able to dispose of their goods to these parties. With this object in view, they prepared for the march and started. Their journey, although perilous and laborious, was successfully accomplished. Messrs. Fitzpatrick and Bridger received and entertained them very hospitably, and purchased their entire stock, paying therefor in beaver fur. Kit Carson then joined Fitzpatrick's band, but remained with it only one month. His reason for separating from it was, that there were too many men congregated together either to accomplish much, or to make the general result profitable in the distribution. He, accordingly, arranged an enterprise upon his own account; and, from his well-established reputation, found more men than he wanted ready to join him. From those who applied, he selected but three. These were men of the best material; and, no man could judge a trapper's qualifications better than Kit Carson.

With his three men he immediately set out for the Laramie River. On this stream and its tributaries, he spent the summer. Perhaps our readers will look for a full description of the course which the American trapper pursues in order to catch beaver. It is very simple in its detail but difficult and tedious in its application. The trap is the common steel trap made in the usual form; if there is any difference, it is larger and more powerful. It is set in the haunts of the beaver with a particular kind of bait[⁶] known chiefly among trappers. It is a singular fact that, frequently, old beavers will be discovered springing the traps, by the aid of a stick. If discovered at his work, he seems to enjoy hugely the vexation of the trappers which they sometimes exhibit. An old trapper, however, especially if he be a Frenchman or Mexican, feels so much pride in the matter, that he will cover up his vexation under assumed politeness, as if the beaver could understand and appreciate his language.

But to escape from these pleasing digressions, Kit Carson and his men concluded their summer's work with unusual success. Their exertions had been crowned with rewards which surpassed their fondest anticipations. As the wintry months were again fast coming on, Kit and his men determined to rejoin Bridger's' command. The return trip, was therefore commenced and duly prosecuted. Late one afternoon, just after the little party had gone into camp, Kit, having lingered somewhat behind, suddenly rode into the camp ground and leaped from his horse, giving it in care of one of the men. With his rifle, he then started in pursuit of game for supper. He walked on about one mile from the camp and there came upon the fresh tracks of some elk. Following up the trail he discovered the game grazing on the side of a hill. In the neighborhood of the animals there were some low and craggy pine trees. Moving along with great care, he finally gained the cover of the trees, which brought him in close proximity to the elk, and within certain range of his rifle. This care was the more necessary as his party had been without meat diet for some time and began to be greatly in need thereof. These ever wary animals saw, or scented him; or, at any rate, became conscious of approaching danger from some cause, before he could reach the spot from which he desired to take his aim. They had commenced moving; and, in another instant, would have bounded away, out of all reach of his rifle. His eye and piece, however, were too quick for them; for, bringing his piece into position and without dwelling upon his aim, he sped a bullet after the largest and the fattest of the noble game before him. He had wisely allowed for the first leap, for his shot caught the nimble animal in mid air and brought him to the earth, writhing in his death agony with a fearful wound through the heart and lungs, from which there was no escape. One quiver ran through the frame of the beautiful animal, when, he breathed his last. The echoing sound of the rifle shot had hardly died away, to which the true hunter ever listens with unfeigned pleasure as the sweetest of music on his ear, whenever he has seen that his game is surely within his grasp, the last faint melody was broken in upon and completely lost in a terrific roar from the woods directly behind him. Instantly turning his head to note the source of this sound, the meaning and cause of which he well knew by his experienced woodman's ear, educated until its nicety was truly wonderful, he saw two huge and terribly angry grizzly bears. As his eye first rested upon these unwelcome guests, they were bounding towards him, their eyes flashing fiery passion, their pearly teeth glittering with eagerness to mangle his flesh, and their monstrous fore-arms, hung with sharp, bony claws, ready and anxious to hug his body in a close and most loving embrace. There was not much time for Kit to scratch his head and cogitate. In fact, one instant spent in thought then would have proved his death warrant without hope of a reprieve. Messrs. Bruin evidently considered their domain most unjustly intruded upon. The gentle elk and deer mayhap were their dancing boys and girls; and, like many a petty king in savage land, they may have dined late and were now enjoying a scenic treat of their ballet troupe. At all events Kit required no second thought to perceive that the monarchs of the American forest were unappeasably angry and were fast nearing him with mighty stride. Dropping his rifle, the little leaden bullet of which would now have been worth to him its weight in gold if it could by some magic wand have been transferred from the heart of the elk back into its breech, he bounded from his position in close imitation of the elk, but with better success. The trees! he hoped and prayed, as he fairly flew over the ground with the bears hot in chase, for one quick grasp at a sturdy sapling. By good fortune, or special Providence, his hope, or prayer, was answered. Grasping a lower limb he swung his body up into the first tier of branches just as passing Bruin brushed against one of his legs. Bears climb trees and Kit Carson was not ignorant of the fact. Instantly drawing his keen-edged hunting knife, he cut away for dear life at a thick short branch. The knife and his energy conquered the cutting just as Messrs. Bruin had gathered themselves up for an ascent, a proceeding on their part to which Mr. Carson would not give assent. Mr. Carson was well acquainted with the Messrs. Bruin's pride in, and extreme consideration for, their noses. A few sharp raps made with the severed branch upon the noses of the ascending bears, while they fairly made them to howl with pain and rage, caused them hastily to beat a retreat. This scene of ascending, getting their noses tickled and again descending howling with pain and rage now kept Mr. Carson and Messrs. Bruin actively busy for some time. The huge monsters and monarchs of the mountains were determined not to give it up so. Such a full and fair chase and to be beaten by a simple white man on their own domain! This evidently galled their sensitive natures. It is true the roaring of the bears in his rear had stimulated Mr. Carson in the race, so much so, that he undoubtedly ran at the top of his speed; and, being naturally, as well as by long practice, very fleet of foot, he had managed to outstrip his pursuers in the race. It is true he had made short work of climbing the tree and here again had very innocently beaten the bears at their own game and one in which they took great pride. It is more than probable that the bears were in too good condition to run well. Had it been early spring time they would doubtless have been much lower in flesh. That was their own fault too; they should have known that racing time cannot be made on high condition. After leaving their hibernating quarters they should have been less given to a sumptuous habit at the table.

Two huge and terribly angry grizzly bears were bounding towards him, their eyes flashing fiery passion, their pearly teeth glittering with eagerness to mangle his flesh, and their monstrous forearms, hung with sharp, bony claws, ready and anxious to hug his body in a close and most loving embrace.—Page 83.

Affairs were, however, by no manner of means settled. They had the daring trespasser on their domain treed, and almost within their reach; and, indeed, to keep out of the way of their uncomely claws, Kit was obliged to gather himself up in the smallest possible space and cling to the topmost boughs. The bears now allowed themselves a short respite for breathing, during which they gave vent to their wrath by many shrill screeches. Then they renewed their endeavors to force the hunter from his resting place. Mounted on their hind paws they would reach for him; but, the blows with the stick, applied freely to their noses, would make them desist. In vain did they exhaust every means to force the man to descend; he was not to be driven or coaxed. The hard knocks they had sustained upon their noses had now aroused them almost to madness. Together they made one desperate effort to tear Kit from the tree. As in all their previous attempts, they were foiled, and their ardor dampened and cooled by the drumming operations upon their noses, which this time was so freely and strongly applied upon one of them as to make him lachrymate and cry out with pain. One at a time they departed; but, it was not until they had been out of sight and hearing for some time that Kit considered it safe to venture down from the tree; when, he hastened to regain and immediately to reload his rifle.

Thus ended an adventure in which Kit Carson considers that he failed to lose life and limb by the narrowest miss that ever occurred to him. Although he has killed much more than his quantum of this kind of game, and has gained what is a practical advantage to every western hunter, to wit: a knowledge of all their abilities with which they enforce sway, Kit Carson regards this adventure in the light of a warning. It is a warning too which he never allows himself to forget; consequently, whenever he has hunted since, he watches as closely for signs of Mr. Bruin as he does for the game he seeks; it would, therefore, be a difficult matter for the bears again to surprise him. Some of the most desperate battles on record between hunters and wild animals are narrated of encounters with the bear tribe.

Several years ago, a Mexican by the name of Armador Sanchez, still well known in the Rocky Mountains as a brave and skillful hunter, had a fight with a bear which lasted several hours. This terrible battle ended by both the combatants being laid prostrate upon the ground, so completely exhausted as to be utterly unable to reach each other from the want of physical strength. In this condition they spent one night; and, on the following morning, when the brave Mexican hunter had recovered sufficiently to be able to creep to his antagonist, he found him dead. This close conflict grew out of the hunter's noble daring in endeavoring to save the life of a Mexican boy, whom, at the instant the hunter attacked the beast, the bear was about to tear into pieces. At one time the bear had the youth in his terrible clutches in such a manner that it was impossible for him to plant a shot in any vital organ. But nothing daunted, with his rifle and revolver, he lodged several bullets in other parts of the fierce monster. Still the savage animal clung to the unfortunate boy, endeavoring to tear him to pieces, and horribly mangling him in every part of his body. The noble hunter could resist no longer, and dropping his pistols and rifle, he drew his sheath-knife and slung shot, and, after winding his blanket around his left arm to protects it, rushed in and compelled the animal to turn upon him. Wounds were freely given and returned; but, the wary Mexican fought with such dexterity and determination, that the bear finally became so mad with pain and rage that by a tremendous effort, with one blow of his powerful paw, he knocked the brave hunter headlong upon the ground, where he lay some time before recovering his breath. Instead of following up this advantage, the brute, doubtless being deceived because the man did not move, commenced examining and licking his own bleeding wounds. But the brave hunter had now got his spirit so completely up, that he determined to conquer his antagonist or die. Early in the fight, by a blow from his slung-shot, he had succeeded in breaking the bear's lower jaw. This had greatly disabled the animal and undoubtedly was the successful wound which eventually gave Sanchez the victory. When he felt himself sufficiently rested, he renewed the fight; and, by adopting various manœuvres, in which he was greatly assisted by some adjacent trees, succeeded in putting in several telling blows with his knife. Again the animal became aroused to madness unendurable, and, gathering himself up for a final effort, succeeded in planting a terrible blow on the hunter's head, which once more brought him to the ground. From this blow and the previous loss of blood, the brave man fainted entirely away. How long he remained in this state he could not tell; but, on becoming again conscious, he found that the victory was on his side, for the bear had already breathed his last. The poor boy, notwithstanding his wounds, as soon as the battle was decided; and, as he supposed, at the cost of his friend's life, started for a neighboring fort, and, reaching it the following morning, reported the affair. A party of men well armed immediately marched to the rescue. They found the brave hunter in a most pitiful condition, with his flesh terribly mangled, his clothes torn into ribbons, and his back and shoulders one mass of lacerated wounds. His reason had already become unseated. In his native language he would call out to his now visionary foe, "If you are a brave man, come on." Although the most delicate care and assistance was rendered to Sanchez, it was many weeks before he was able to resume his occupation; and, even then, he owed his life to the wonderful recuperative powers of his healthy and iron constitution. Had the fact been otherwise, he could not have survived his injuries. One more brave heart must have yielded its last drop of heroic blood in defence of youthful weakness. This picture, because it does not exaggerate the facts, we leave with regret; for, it is a pleasure to contemplate such nobility of character, whatever be the name which declares the governmental allegiance of the hero.

It is not going beyond the bounds of truth to assert that the grizzly bear of the Rocky Mountains is as formidable an enemy as the hunter is called upon to meet, wherever the hunting-ground and whatever the animal which opponents to our assertion may set up. When caught out on the open prairie, where he can be attacked on horseback and lassoed, the chances are against the bear; but, in a broken country, woe to his assailants, unless life is saved by some trick; or, happy fortune; a lucky shot; a telling blow, like Sanchez's with his slung-shot; or, the fanciful drumming, such as was Kit's, on the noses of his antagonists; or, some other equally singular and unlooked-for expedient. The weight of one of these monsters often runs as high as fifteen hundred pounds; and, their fore paws, which they can manage with the greatest dexterity, frequently measure fourteen inches. The courage, sagacity and skill invariably evinced by this species of bear, when engaged in a fight, is not equaled by any other wild animal on the face of the globe, not excepting the lion.