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

by De Witt C. Peters

It was while obeying instructions, in traveling as fast as possible, that one day, the sixth of October, 1846, the party discerned something which, at first, looked like a mere speck moving on the prairies. Watching it with intense anxiety, the little speck increased in size until they saw it emerge, as it were, from the apparent junction of the heavens with the earth, and form a visible line; as the front of this column came nearer to view, they discovered that it was a strong detachment of United States troops. The truth was now evident to them all that this was an expedition sent out by government to operate in California. Spurring on their animals, Kit and his men soon met the advance guard of the soldiers and learned that their commander was Gen. Kearney, who was further back in the lines. On coming to the general, Kit Carson reported himself, informed him of the business he was on, and also furnished him with all the intelligence in his power in reference to the disposal of the American forces in California, besides detailing to him what had already been accomplished in that quarter.

After due deliberation, Gen. Kearney determined to send Mr. Fitzpatrick on to Washington with the dispatches and to order Kit Carson to join him as guide. In fulfilling this duty, he well knew that Kit would be invaluable to him. Acting on this decision, he sent for Kit Carson and informed him of what he wished him to do. Kit Carson replied, "As the general thinks best." The fact was, that Kit well knew he could be of great service to the command, and he was too honest not to confess it, though he was now nearly in reach of his happy home and its loved inmates, from whom he had been so long separated and whom he fondly wished to see. In facing about, Kit took upon his shoulders the prospect of encountering fearful dangers; but, he undertook his new duties without allowing a murmur to escape his lips, and without even asking additional pay; though, had he but mentioned it, the general could not have well refused the demand. A noble motive engrossed Kit Carson's mind. He has ever labored to win and wear the confidence and respect of his countrymen, being ambitious to leave a name behind him that shall be an honor to his friends and family.

On the eighteenth day of October, 1846, General Kearney and his command left the Rio Del Norte, in New Mexico. The services of Kit Carson in directing the route, proved the wisdom of General Kearney in making the change in the bearers of dispatches. So true was Kit Carson's guidance, that the command traveled with so much dispatch as to reach Warner's Ranche, in California, on the third day of December following. From this place it took up a line of march for San Diego.

While on their march, news was brought in by their spies that a strong command of Mexican Californians had taken up a position on their route, evidently awaiting their advance with the view of attacking them. This occurred on the sixth day of the same month. General Kearney made no change in his route, but advanced to within fifteen miles of the enemy's encampment. Here he commanded a halt. A reconnoitering party, consisting of fifteen dragoons, commanded by Lieutenant Hammond, was sent on in advance to note the position and force of the enemy. He proceeded upon the duty, but was discovered by the Mexicans. Nevertheless, he fortunately succeeded in making his observations previous to being seen. His report to General Kearney, among other facts, stated that these Mexican soldiers had strongly established themselves in an Indian village.

General Kearney determined, without delay to attack them. Orders were given to resume the march; and, by one o'clock the next morning the American soldiers had fastened all their packs on their mules, and were themselves mounted and ready for the command to move. The order came without delay, and the little army was immediately in motion. Fourteen miles of the space which separated the two parties were passed without interruption. When within one mile of the Mexican position, the advance guard of the Americans suddenly came upon a small advance guard of the Mexicans, who were evidently posted to watch their approach and guard the road. As soon as they were discovered, the trumpets of the dragoons sounded, in quick succession, the orders to trot, and to gallop. The Americans were so prompt in making their charge that they came upon the Mexicans, when a sharp skirmish ensued, in which several of the enemy were killed. The remainder of the outpost were driven in, bearing the news of the attack to their friends. Captain Johnson, Kit Carson and fifteen American soldiers formed the attacking party in this affair. They had been ordered to secure the loose animals belonging to the enemy. In this they failed, the animals being too strongly guarded, and because, upon the first alarm, they were driven out of harm's way.

This attack, however, proved to be the commencement of a serious fight. Seeing that his orders could not be obeyed in regard to the animals of the enemy, Captain Johnson and his party joined a party under Captain Moore. The force of the latter consisted of twenty-five American volunteers from California, who had attached themselves to General Kearney's command since its arrival in the country. Moore's command also comprised parts of two companies of United States dragoons. Captain Moore had been ordered to make an attack on the centre of the enemy, in order to cut their forces in two, and thereby cause confusion in their ranks. As has been stated, Captain Johnson, with his little force, joined Captain Moore in making this attack. While the charge was in progress, and when within one hundred yards of the Mexican camp, Kit Carson's horse, occupying a leading position in the column of attack, accidentally fell, and threw his rider with such force as to break the wood part, or stock, of his rifle into several pieces, rendering it useless. His position, for a short time, was precarious. Being foremost in the charge when the accident happened, the whole troop of horse came galloping over him as he lay upon the ground. His escape was almost a miracle. When the last horseman had passed, Kit arose, and was quite happy to find that he had received only slight contusions, which did not in the least impair his movements or strength of body. Casting a hasty glance over the field, he discovered a dead dragoon, not far distant from the spot where he himself had fallen. Instantly running up to the poor fellow, he relieved him of his gun and cartridge-box. Being once more armed, he rushed forward at the top of his speed and plunged into the thickest of the fight, which was then severely contested. Captain Johnson and several of the more advanced soldiers had been killed by the bullets of the enemy, almost at the same instant that Kit Carson's horse had fallen. It is not at all unlikely, therefore, that the accidental falling of his horse had been the means of saving Kit Carson's life. After a desperate and deadly conflict, Moore and his men dislodged the enemy, causing them to retreat. They were followed by the Americans, but, unfortunately for their complete success, the large majority of the latter were mounted on mules. These, when the firing commenced, became almost unmanageable. But forty of the entire command of General Kearney were mounted on horses, and these were none the best for cavalry purposes, having been but recently broken to the saddle. They had been captured since the arrival of the American forces in the country, from a party of Mexicans, who were en route to Sonora, by Lieutenant Davidson and twenty-five dragoons, assisted by Kit Carson. By the uncontrollable actions of the stubborn mules, Moore's men became greatly separated and could not act in concert. This rendered the pursuit, so far as the enemy was concerned, nearly harmless.

The Mexicans, quickly perceiving the condition of their assailants, and comprehending the chances, which the apparent difficulty gave them, at once rallied and turned on their pursuers. The fight was renewed with most determined courage. The Mexicans fought with a bravery and success which turned the hitherto, comparatively speaking, bloodless victory of the Americans, into a terrible slaughter. Every moment saw some brave dragoon yield up his life to the deadly bullets or blows of the exasperated Mexicans. Out of the forty dragoons who were mounted on horses, thirty-six were either killed or severely wounded. Among the names to be added to the sad list already killed, was Captain Moore, "as brave a man," says Kit Carson, "as ever drew breath in any service." As fast as the scattered American soldiers could reach the scene of carnage, they joined in the battle; but, the Mexicans, elated by their success, fought like demons, and seemed to sweep everything before them.

General Kearney, seeing his officers thus shot down, drawing his sword, placed himself at the head of his remaining forces; and, though severely wounded, he made a desperate attempt to cause the enemy, once more, to retreat. At this crisis of affairs, Lieutenant Davidson arrived on the ground with two mountain howitzers. Before he could get his guns unlimbered and ready to commence firing, nearly every man he had to work them was shot down, being either killed or badly wounded. Following up their success, the Mexicans charged right up to the guns, and, with the lasso, unerring in their hands, captured the horses attached to, and, on the instant, made off with one of the guns. On reaching a distance of three hundred yards, they halted and prepared to turn the fire of the howitzer upon the Americans. From some unaccountable reason, it would not go off. Lieutenant Davidson did his utmost to prevent the loss of this gun, and after several narrow escapes from dangerous lance wounds, as his clothing and saddle sufficiently attested, he was finally stricken down, and nearly gave his life a sacrifice to his heroism.

After being thus badly cut up, and with not more than one or two officers left who had not been either killed or wounded, while the men had been handled with equal severity, the Americans were obliged to take refuge at a point of rocks which chanced to be near where their advance had been defeated. A rally was made at this place. The Mexicans, however, did not venture to attack them. Both sides were apparently weary of fighting for that day. The firing ceased, and soon after, night closed over the scene of the battle field.

These California Mexicans, previous to the war with the United States, were considered by the mountaineers as the bravest Spanish blood in the Mexican provinces. During the war, they proved that they had not been over-estimated, as they met their foes, at the commencement of hostilities, with a determination to win, or sell their lives dearly. The reason of this difference of courage in their favor over their countrymen who inhabited the internal States, is supposed to be owing to their opportunities for intercourse with the bold mariners from different countries who visited them in ships for the purpose of trade. This commerce consisted in the transporting into the country of such articles as arms, ammunition, groceries, and dry goods, for which were bartered, hides, tallow, and furs. The currency of California at that time was hides, which were estimated as so many dollars. The raising of cattle and horses was the leading employment of the people, and occupied most of their time. On the discovery of gold, these affairs underwent a change, and the rapid strides of civilization has left this people far in the minority. The horses of California were celebrated as being larger than the ponies of New Mexico, and also for being much fleeter of foot. The California rider, at that time, was looked upon as being unrivaled by those who had witnessed his performances. However, the intercourse between the two countries was very limited among the Mexicans, and it was difficult to find a New Mexican who had seen the Pacific. Their dialects were also slightly different, as much so as happens in the dependencies of any other country. It was fear of the Indians that put a damper on the travel between these adjoining districts. The society of the man who had had the boldness to make a journey to California from New Mexico was courted, he being considered a renowned traveler. His amusing stories of large ships and the men who managed them, and also, of the great expanse of the ocean, amazed his auditors and made them deeply interested in his conversation and information. It has become a strange sight to look upon whole communities of men, who have only heard of steamboats, telegraphs, railroads and other great improvements and inventions of the age, yet there are thousands of men living in the great interior of the North American continent who have only vague ideas of these things; and many there are, who cannot realize them, but believe that they are fabulous stories, and will meet the narrator of them with equal wonders, which they manufacture to suit the occasion. To give a specimen: we remember one night to have tried to explain these advancements to an old Mexican of some eighty winters, while we were the guest of his house. He listened attentively, but evidently could comprehend but little that we said. We changed the subject, and began to describe to him the great beasts of the forest, such as the lion, the tiger, and the elephant, and soon found that we had struck the theme which pleased him. In reply, he told us that in his younger days he himself was a famous hunter; and that, on one occasion, while on the chase, he met Adam, who, he informed us, was the greatest hunter of his age. We were somewhat surprised to hear this old man thus annihilate time and space, but not more so than when we heard him relate the conversation that passed between himself and Adam. It was both short and sweet. The Mexican demanded of Adam what was the particular game he was seeking in these parts, and the reply was deer. He said that he wished to kill a few choice bucks, in order to get their skins to clothe Eve with, and hence he had come to the Rocky Mountains. The flavor of this yarn was so good, I attempted to try the old man on another adventure, by asking him if he ever, by chance, in his travels, met the Evil One. Immediately, he informed me that at one time, that gentleman lived in a salt marsh, which is to be found in the valley of San Louis. The object of his staying there was to watch a very fine band of horses which he was raising near by. The Indians and Mexicans one day determined to deprive Satan of his stock, and arranged things accordingly; but, on coming upon the horses, they were surprised to find that they could not overtake them, and that the horses ran directly into the swamp and vanished by easily sinking out of sight. While looking for a path that led into this marsh, they were all at once scared nearly out of their senses by seeing the devil raise himself up in the midst of the bog. The sequel was, that the Mexicans and their Indian friends retreated as fast as possible, and never stopped until they had reached a place of safety. My companions became vexed to think any man could perpetrate such a story on travelers, who considered they knew a thing or two, and commenced quizzing the old gentleman by asking him what the Indians knew of Satan; but the old Mexican evaded the answer by taking down the little wooden cross which hung on the wall of the room and expressed the desire to confirm the truth of his story by swearing to it; this, of course, was said to be entirely unnecessary. From it, we had learned the lesson never to try to impress on the minds of the ignorant too weighty matters. This is true with the Indian also; for, he is incredulous of anything beyond the grasp of his own mind; which fact is illustrated by the following incident. An American had some business to transact with a certain band of Indians, who were celebrated as being very treacherous. Being a bold man, he thought he would beard the lions in their den, and accordingly, traveled alone to where the band was located; but, instead of being received with open arms, as he expected, he was made a prisoner, and so held until it could be decided what was to be done with him. At last, a council was formed, before which he was to be tried. The first question asked by the head chief was, "How do your white people get gunpowder?" The reply was instantaneous: "We sow it in a peculiar soil and it grows up like wheat." This was responded to by a grunt from the examiner. A pause ensued, when the chief looked the captive full in the eyes, and thus addressed him: "Know you, young man, that the Great Spirit came into our camp this morning, and after resting a short time he took yonder large hill and placed it on the top of its fellow, and after leaving it there two hours, he returned it to its former site. He then bid his Indian children good bye. Young man, your tongue is split: one fork is for telling lies, and the other is for telling truths." This was enough to convince the white man that he had made a mistake, and, that if he had attempted to presume on too much knowledge, his scalp might soon be dangling on some lodge-pole. The Indians admired the brave and manly course he had pursued in coming to them single-handed, and this, with the importance of the business he came on, saved his life.