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

by De Witt C. Peters

The combined efforts of the two commanders, Colonel Fauntleroy and Lieutenant-Colonel St. Vrain, aided by their followers, among whom Kit Carson played a most conspicuous and important part, had the effect to compel the Indians to send a delegate to Santa Fé, commissioned to sue for peace. Peace was finally granted, which formed a most happy and pleasing termination to this brilliant Indian campaign.

It proved afterwards that a great mistake was made in hastily allowing these Indians to evade the punishment they so richly deserved, and which was being so summarily inflicted, by entertaining so soon conciliatory measures. At the council that was subsequently held, it was found that only a part of the Apaches were present to sanction the proceedings, and that the remainder were still in the mountains and were either hostile or undecided what course they would pursue. Kit Carson, their agent, was at the meeting, and earnestly opposed the policy of making a treaty so long as any portion of the two nations were insubordinate, as it offered a loop hole for those present to creep out whenever they were so inclined. He said, "that now was the time, if ever, when they might, at a small additional expense, and with the prospect of saving many valuable lives, show these Indians that they were dealing with a powerful government." His voice and experience were overruled by the other officials present and the treaty was made. It stipulated that the Indians should receive certain sums annually in case they would settle down and commence farming, and that they should be allowed to select their own locality within certain prescribed limits. The making of such offers to tribes of savages half subdued is absurd. The wisdom of this assertion has since been clearly shown, for hardly one article contained in the treaty there made has been carried out. The actions of those Apaches present at the council were trifling in the extreme, notwithstanding which, they were presented with some cattle. These they objected to receiving on the ground that they were not fat enough to suit their fastidious tastes. They insolently addressed the Government officials in the following strain: "If you do not give us better, we will again take the road where we can have our choice."

The fact was that these half-starved rascals saw that the white men were anxious to make peace, and hence they assumed a haughty air in order to drive a good bargain.

The great results which should have been brought about by the teachings of Colonels Fauntleroy and St. Vrain, by this weak diplomacy, were more or less frustrated. These gentlemen, however, had won great renown. They had the savages driven to such extremes that one more expedition, led by them in person, would have subdued all their obstinacy and made them over anxious for peace. The Indians had been seven times caught, and, on every one of the occasions, they had been greatly worsted. They had lost at least five hundred horses, all their camp equipage, ammunition, provisions, and most of their arms, and were indeed almost at the mercy of the whites. Under these circumstances they should have been shown true magnanimity and greatness, by forcing them into that course which was and is for their own welfare as well as the welfare of the country, and against which, they themselves so blindly contend. Say to an Indian, that ere many years have passed by the buffalo will all be destroyed, and he will answer you "that the 'Great Spirit' rains them down in the mountains for his red children." This is a fair example of the manner in which most of them listen to the voice of reason. It requires practical and active demonstrations by means of rifles and other weapons to teach, them that they will not be permitted to plunder and murder at pleasure. The wrong of this conduct they are as well aware of as their white brethren. It is by rifle arguments that their treaties become worth the value of the paper upon which they are written.

It is a well known fact that people who live in Indian countries prefer to have the red men at war, rather than bound to peace by such slender ties as they are usually called upon to take upon themselves. In the former case, the settler knows what to expect and is always prepared for the worst so far as it lies in his power; but, in the latter position, he is continually exposed to the caprices of a race who are in many respects as changeable as the very air they breathe.

In the old Mexican town of Don Fernandez de Taos, as we have before said, resides at the present time Kit Carson. A stranger entering this town, and especially at a little distance from it, is reminded of a number of brick-kilns just previous to being burnt, and all huddled together without any regard being paid to symmetry. In order to reach the Plaza, which is the main feature of attraction belonging to the town, the traveler is obliged to follow the crooks and turns of several unattractive streets. The home of Kit Carson faces on the west side of this public square. It is a building only one story in height; but, as it extends over a considerable space of ground, it makes up in part this defect, and within, it is surpassed by but few other houses in the country for the degree of comfort which is furnishes to its occupants. On most any fair day, around the doors of this house may be seen many Indians of various tribes who are either waiting for their companions within, or else for the opportunity to present itself so that they themselves can enter.

Business or no business to transact with Kit Carson, they cannot come to town without visiting "Father Kit," and having a smoke and talk with him. Kit Carson enjoys himself in their society, for his heart and hand have long since taught them that, irrespective of the office which he holds towards them, he is their true friend and benefactor. Never is his patience exhausted by their lengthy visits. He listens to their narrations of grievances which they lay freely before him for his counsel, even in matters exclusively personal. Being familiar with all those things which will, in the least, touch their feelings and make them interested, he finds no difficulty in entering into the spirit of their affairs in a manner that exactly suits their tastes. This causes them to look upon him in the same light as they would upon some brave and experienced chief of their own race.

Kit Carson takes every opportunity to warn the Indians against the use of intoxicating drinks, and shows them by his own example, that "fire water" is a dangerous luxury which man does not require and in which he should not indulge. Notwithstanding his best efforts, now and then they get under its influence. On becoming sober, they are so ashamed of their conduct that they often keep clear of their agent until they think he has forgotten the occurrence. Kit Carson, to a certain extent, treats Indians as a wise father does his own children; hence, he has won their respect as well as confidence, which fact has given him more influence over them, than any other man in the country where he lives. When Kit Carson enters the various villages of the Indians under his supervision, he is invariably received with the most marked attention. Having selected the warrior whose guest he intends to be, he accompanies him to his lodge, which is known during his stay as the "soldiers' lodge." He gives himself no concern about his horse, saddle, bridle rifle or any minor thing. The brave whom he has thus honoured, considers that he has assumed the responsibility of a "soldier," and so styles himself. This making of a "soldier" is no every day business with the Indians. It is only when they are visited by some great personage for whom they have the greatest respect, that this ceremony is gone through with. When thus favored, the "soldier," at once, becomes the sworn friend of the white man who occupies his lodge, and will fight and die for him even against his own brethren.

It is the opinion of Kit Carson, that Indians should not be allowed to come, when it pleases them, into the settlements. Every visit which they thus make is detrimental to them in many ways. He thinks that the time thus spent could be better employed in hunting or otherwise providing for the wants of their families. In the towns of the frontiers they do nothing but beg and learn the vices of the white man, which, added to their own, make them as dangerous and wicked as men can be. In lieu thereof, he advises that mission and agency houses should be established in their midst, when supplies should be furnished to them in a time of need. As matters stand now, the Indians, during a severe winter, or from some unforeseen accident, are liable to become suddenly destitute. They are then compelled either to starve or to make inroads upon the property of the settlers on the frontiers. Besides his Indian friends, Kit Carson is surrounded by a host of Mexicans and Americans, to whom he has greatly endeared himself. To his children Kit Carson is a kind and indulgent father, and to best illustrate his self-sacrificing attachment for them, it is only necessary to relate one striking incident of its proof. A few years since, he was returning to Taos from Rayado, whither he had been on a visit in company with his wife, two children, and two servants (a Mexican man and woman). The party had completed the first half of their journey, and were jogging along over a tract of prairie land that was of considerable extent, when suddenly, Kit Carson discovered, far off, a band of about forty Indians. Being so exposed, he at once concluded that he also had been seen, for while he was looking, he thought he could see the speed of their riding animals increase. The glaring rays of the sun impeded his view, so that he could not discern at such a distance, either from their dress or appearance, to what tribe they belonged. He was in a section of country that was frequently visited by the marauding Camanches, and, as their signs had been recently seen in the neighborhood, he made up his mind that it was a band of this tribe that he now saw. No time was to be lost; so, dismounting from the very fleet horse he was riding, he placed in his saddle his wife and eldest child. To the first named he gave directions "to follow on the trail that led to Taos, and let the bridle reins be a little slack, so that the horse would know what was expected of him, when he would travel at the top of his speed. He said that he intended to ride towards the Indians and engage them at first in a parley, and then if necessary offer them a single-handed combat. At any rate, before they could manage to kill him, she would have sufficient time to lessen her danger. As to the remainder of the party he added, there was no alternative but for them to take their chances for life or death." Bidding his wife and boy good bye, with one heart-rending look, he turned to face his apparent doom. As Kit approached the Indians, they began to call out his name. As soon as he heard this, he aroused himself from the agonizing frame of mind he had been laboring under after parting with all that was so dear to him, and as he had thought, for the last time. To his joy, Kit quickly recognized before him, the familiar faces of some of his Indian friends. They had come, as they afterwards informed him, to see him and his helpless charge safely lodged in their home, for they had become aware that he was exposed to great danger. While the friends were talking, some of the Indians began to laugh, which caused Carson to turn his head and look in the direction they were gazing. To his astonishment and disgust, he saw (the truth was too evident to be mistaken) that the cowardly Mexican man had, on his leaving, pulled off from her horse Mrs. Carson and her child, and having mounted the animal himself, was making good his escape. The Indians wished to keep up the ruse, pursue, Attempt to overtake and punish the poltroon; but Kit Carson was too thankful that matters had gone so well; therefore, he said that he felt that he could excuse such dastardly conduct, and requested the Indians to let it pass unnoticed. It is hardly necessary to add that with his faithful body-guard who had come to watch over him from feelings of earnest respect, gratitude and affectionate regard, the agent accomplished the remainder of his journey in perfect safety.