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

by De Witt C. Peters

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.