Carson found when he met the Indians in council that they had good cause for discontent. One of their leading warriors had been waylaid and murdered by a small party of Mexicans. The officials who were with Carson promised that the murderers should be given up. It was the intention of all that justice should be done, but, as was too often the case, it miscarried altogether. Only one of the murderers was caught and he managed to escape and was never apprehended again.
To make matters worse, some of the blankets which the Superintendent had presented the Indians a short while before, proved to be infected with small pox and the dreadful disease carried off many of the leading warriors of the tribe. More than one Apache was resolute in declaring the proceeding premeditated on the part of the whites. The result was the breaking out of a most formidable Indian war. The Muache band of Utahs, under their most distinguished chieftain, joined the Apaches in waylaying and murdering travellers, attacking settlements and making off with the prisoners, besides capturing hundreds and thousands of cattle, sheep, mules and horses. For a time they overran a large portion of the territory of New Mexico. Matters at last reached such a pass, that unless the savages were checked, they would annihilate all the whites.
The Governor issued a call for volunteers. The response was prompt, and five hundred men were speedily equipped and put into the field. They were placed under charge of Colonel T. T. Fauntleroy, of the First Regiment of United States Dragoons. He engaged Kit Carson as his chief guide.
The campaign was pushed with all possible vigor, but for a time nothing important was done. The weather became intensely cold. On the second campaign, Colonel Fauntleroy surprised the main camp of the enemy and inflicted great slaughter. A severe blow was administered, but the reader knows that the peace which followed proved only temporary. The Apaches have been a thorn in our side for many years. General Crook has shown great tact, bravery and rare skill in his dealings with them and probably has brought about the most genuine peace that has been known for a generation.
It would not be worth while to follow Kit Carson on his round of duties as Indian Agent. He had to deal with the most turbulent tribes on the continent, and enough has been told to prove his peerless sagacity in solving the most difficult questions brought before him. He rode thousands of miles, visiting remote points, conferred with the leading hostiles, risked his life times without number, and was often absent from home for weeks and months. While it was beyond the attainment of human endeavor for him to make an end of wars on the frontiers, yet he averted many and did a degree of good which is beyond all calculation.
"I was in the insignificant settlement of Denver, in the autumn of 1860," said A. L. Worthington, "when a party of Arapahoes, Cheyennes and Comanches returned from an expedition against the tribe of mountain Indians know as the Utes. The allied forces were most beautifully whipped and were compelled to leave the mountains in the greatest hurry for their lives. They brought into Denver one squaw and her half dozen children as prisoners. The little barbarians, when the other youngsters came too near or molested them, would fight like young wild cats. The intention of the captors, as I learned, was to torture the squaw and her children to death. Before the arrangements were completed, Kit Carson rode to the spot and dismounted. He had a brief, earnest talk with the warriors. He did not mean to permit the cruel death that was contemplated, but instead of demanding the surrender of the captives, he ransomed them all, paying ten dollars a piece. After they were given up, he made sure that they were returned to their tribe in the mountains."
This anecdote may serve as an illustration of scores of similar duties in which the agent was engaged. It was during the same year that Carson received an injury which was the cause of his death. He was descending a mountain, so steep that he led his horse by a lariat, intending, if the animal fell, to let go of it in time to prevent being injured. The steed did fall and though Carson threw the lariat from him, he was caught by it, dragged some distance and severely injured.
When the late Civil War broke out and most of our troops were withdrawn from the mountains and plains, Carson applied to President Lincoln for permission to raise a regiment of volunteers in New Mexico, for the purpose of protecting our settlements there. Permission was given, the regiment raised and the famous mountaineer did good service with his soldiers. On one occasion he took 9,000 Navajo prisoners with less than 600 men.
At the close of the war, he was ordered to Fort Garland, where he assumed command of a large region. He was Brevet Brigadier General and retained command of a battalion of New Mexico volunteers.
Carson did not suffer immediately from his injury, but he found in time that a grave internal disturbance had been caused by his fall. In the spring of 1868, he accompanied a party of Ute Indians to Washington. He was then failing fast and consulted a number of leading physicians and surgeons. His disease was aneurism of the aorta which progressed fast. When his end was nigh, his wife suddenly died, leaving seven children, the youngest only a few weeks old. His affliction had a very depressing effect on Carson, who expired May 23, 1868.