The inquiries which the then lieutenant instituted, or, at least, may be supposed to have instituted, must have been favorable; for, soon afterwards, Kit Carson was engaged by Colonel Fremont to act as guide to his first exploring expedition at a salary of one hundred dollars per month. Upon arriving in Kansas the party prepared for a long and dangerous journey which lay before them. The objects of this expedition was to survey the South Pass, and take the altitude of the highest peaks of the Rocky Mountains, besides gathering all the collateral information which they could. The party had been chiefly collected in St. Louis. It consisted of twenty-two Creole and Canadian voyageurs; Mr. Charles Preuss, a native of Germany, whose education rendered him a master in the art of topographical sketching, and, towards whom, Colonel Fremont has always extended high and just encomium; Henry Brant, a son of Colonel J.H. Brant, of St. Louis, nineteen years of age; young Randolph Benton, a son of Colonel Benton, twelve years of age; Mr. L. Maxwell, a mountaineer engaged as the hunter of the party; and finally, Kit Carson, as guide, making, including the commander of the Expedition, twenty-eight souls. On the 10th day of June, 1842, the party commenced their march. The daily routine usually observed on the march was as follows:
At daybreak the camp was aroused, the animals led out and turned loose to graze; breakfast about six o'clock, immediately after which, the line of march was resumed; at noon there was a halt of one or two hours; the march was then again resumed and kept up until within an hour or so of sunset, when the order was usually given to encamp; the tents were then pitched, horses hobbled and turned loose to graze and the cooks prepared supper. At night all the animals were brought in and picketed, carts set for defence and guard mounted.
The party had only accomplished a few miles of the march when they fell in with the buffalo. Before we pursue the narrative of Kit Carson's life we must redeem our promise and allow Col. Fremont to describe his own impressions in his first Buffalo Hunt, in which Kit Carson and Mr. L. Maxwell were his companions and guides. Col. Fremont says:
"A few miles brought us into the midst of the buffalo, swarming in immense numbers over the plains, where they had left scarcely a blade of grass standing. Mr. Preuss, who was sketching at a little distance in the rear, had at first noted them as large groves of timber. In the sight of such a mass of life, the traveler feels a strange emotion of grandeur. We had heard from a distance a dull and confused murmuring, and, when we came in view of their dark masses, there was not one among us who did not feel his heart beat quicker. It was the early part of the day, when the herds are feeding; and everywhere they were in motion. Here and there a huge old bull was rolling in the grass, and clouds of dust rose in the air from various parts of the bands, each the scene of some obstinate fight. Indians and buffalo make the poetry and life of the prairie, and our camp was full of their exhilaration. In place of the quiet monotony of the march, relieved only by the cracking of the whip, and an 'avance donc! enfant de garce!' shouts and songs resounded from every part of the line, and our evening camp was always the commencement of a feast, which terminated only with our departure on the following morning. At any time of the night might be seen pieces of the most delicate and choicest meat, roasting en appolas, on sticks around the fire, and the guard were never without company. With pleasant weather and no enemy to fear, and abundance of the most excellent meat, and no scarcity of bread or tobacco, they were enjoying the oasis of a voyageur's life. Three cows were killed today. Kit Carson had shot one, and was continuing the chase in the midst of another herd, when his horse fell headlong, but sprang up and joined the flying band. Though considerably hurt, he had the good fortune to break no bones; and Maxwell, who was mounted on a fleet hunter, captured the runaway after a hard chase. He was on the point of shooting him, to avoid the loss of his bridle (a handsomely mounted Spanish one), when he found that his horse was able to come up with him. Animals are frequently lost in this way; and it is necessary to keep close watch over them, in the vicinity of the buffalo, in the midst of which they scour off to the plains, and are rarely retaken. One of our mules took a sudden freak into his head, and joined a neighboring band to-day. As we are not in a condition to lose horses, I sent several men in pursuit, and remained in camp, in the hope of recovering him; but lost the afternoon to no purpose, as we did not see him again. Astronomical observations placed us in longitude 100° 05' 47", latitude 40° 49' 55".
"July 1.—As we were riding quietly along the bank, a grand herd of buffalo, some seven or eight hundred in number, came crowding up from the river, where they had been to drink, and commenced crossing the plain slowly, eating as they went. The wind was favorable; the coolness of the morning invited to exercise; the ground was apparently good, and the distance across the prairie (two or three miles) gave us a fine opportunity to charge them before they could get among the river hills. It was too fine a prospect for a chase to be lost; and, halting for a few moments, the hunters were brought up and saddled, and Kit Carson, Maxwell and I started together. They were now somewhat less than half a mile distant, and we rode easily along until within about three hundred yards, when a sudden agitation, a wavering in the band, and a galloping to and fro of some which were scattered along the skirts, gave us the intimation that we were discovered. We started together at a hand gallop, riding steadily abreast of each other, and here the interest of the chase became so engrossingly intense, that we were sensible to nothing else. We were now closing upon them rapidly, and the front of the mass was already in rapid motion for the hills, and in a few seconds the movement had communicated itself to the whole herd.
"A crowd of bulls, as usual, brought up the rear, and every now and then some of them faced about, and then dashed on after the band a short distance, and turned and looked again, as if more than half inclined to stand and fight. In a few moments, however, during which we had been quickening our pace, the rout was universal, and we were going over the ground like a hurricane. When at about thirty yards, we gave the usual shout (the hunter's battle cry) and broke into the herd. We entered on the side, the mass giving way in every direction in their heedless course. Many of the bulls, less active and less fleet than the cows, paying no attention to the ground, and occupied solely with the hunter were precipitated to the earth with great force, rolling over and over with the violence of the shock, and hardly distinguishable in the dust. We separated on entering, each singling out his game.
"My horse was a trained hunter, famous in the west under the name of Proveau, and, with his eyes flashing, and the foam flying from his mouth, sprang on after the cow like a tiger. In a few moments he brought me alongside of her, and, rising in the stirrups, I fired at the distance of a yard, the ball entering at the termination of the long hair, and passing near the heart. She fell headlong at the report of the gun, and checking my horse, I looked around for my companions. At a little distance, Kit was on the ground, engaged in tying his horse to the horns of a cow which he was preparing to cut up. Among the scattered bands, at some distance below, I caught a glimpse of Maxwell; and while I was looking, a light wreath of white smoke curled away from his gun, from which I was too far to hear the report. Nearer, and between me and the hills, towards which they were directing their course, was the body of the herd, and giving my horse the rein, we dashed after them. A thick cloud of dust hung upon their rear, which filled my mouth and eyes, and nearly smothered me. In the midst of this I could see nothing, and the buffalo were not distinguishable until within thirty feet. They crowded together more densely still as I came upon them, and rushed along in such a compact body, that I could not obtain an entrance—the horse almost leaping upon them. In a few moments the mass divided to the right and left, the horns clattering with a noise heard above everything else, and my horse darted into the opening. Five or six bulls charged on us as we dashed along the line, but were left far behind, and singling out a cow, I gave her my fire, but struck too high. She gave a tremendous leap, and scoured on swifter than before. I reined up my horse, and the band swept on like a torrent, and left the place quiet and clear. Our chase had led us into dangerous ground. A prairie-dog village, so thickly settled that there were three or four holes in every twenty yards square, occupied the whole bottom for nearly two miles in length. Looking around, I saw only one of the hunters, nearly out of sight, and the long dark line of our caravan crawling along, three or four miles distant."
The trail which the party left behind them now forms the emigrant road to California via Fort Laramie, Salt Lake, etc. On reaching Fort Laramie, Fremont found a fearful state of affairs existing among the Sioux Indians through whose country his route lay. An encounter had recently taken place between a war-party belonging to the Sioux nation and a party of trappers and Snake Indians. In the fight the Indians had been worsted and several of their braves killed. To revenge themselves the Sioux chieftains had collected their warriors; and, while the nation was encamped to the number of one thousand lodges, they had gone forth to seek and punish their enemies.
At Fort Laramie the exploring party met several trappers and friendly Indians who used their utmost endeavors to dissuade Colonel Fremont from venturing into such inevitable danger. There was but one opinion expressed, viz.: that, as sure as he entered upon the journey, the entire party would be massacred. To all these admonitions and warnings, Colonel Fremont had but one reply. His government had directed him to perform a certain duty. The obstacles which stood in his way, it was his duty to use every means at his command to surmount; therefore, in obedience to his instructions, he was determined to continue his march. Finally, he said, that he would accomplish the object or die in the attempt, being quite sure that if the expedition failed by being cut to pieces, a terrible retribution would be in store for the perpetrators of the act. Kit Carson, his guide, openly avowed that the future looked dark and gloomy; but, he was delighted to hear this expression from his commander. He now felt that he had a man after his own heart to depend on, and should danger or inevitable death be in store for them he was ready and willing to face either with him. In order to be prepared for the worst, Kit Carson felt it his duty, considering the dangers apprehended, to make his will, thereby showing that if he had to fight he was ready to count it his last battle. Colonel Fremont resumed his journey, and very opportunely arrived at the South Pass of the Rocky Mountains without, in any way, being annoyed with Indians, not even meeting any on the route.