Scouting with Kit Carson

by Everett T. Tomlinson

The horses which the trappers had selected for the chase were all fleet, but as Reuben glanced at his own beast he smiled as he thought of the possibility of the black leader being overtaken by such an animal. To divide the pursuit into relays was the only feasible plan. And his own part, provided the wild leader turned southward, would not be slight. There was, however, the possibility that instead of turning either northward or to the south the black leader might move directly toward the east. In that event pursuit would be well-nigh hopeless. There were no horses in the possession of the trappers that would be able to overtake the fleet-footed leader in a straight chase across the plains.

A half-hour slowly passed and still no signs of Kit Carson or of the wild horses had been seen. A second half-hour passed and still the silence was unbroken. The sun was now well above the horizon and the peaks of the mountains were capped with light. Indeed, the glory of the coming day was already reflected from the snowclad mountain peaks, from the occasional little lakes on the mountainside, and from the crags and rocks that were to be seen in whichever direction Reuben looked. The air, too, was marvellous, and Reuben said to himself that, as he breathed it, it almost seemed to him as if he could bite it, it was so strong and bracing.

The young trapper was becoming impatient. He was almost convinced that Kit Carson had failed to discover the hiding-place of the wild horses. If that were true, it was strange that the scout did not return. Reuben smiled, however, as he recalled the fact that when Kit Carson had decided to follow any line of action it was almost impossible to divert him from his purpose. Quiet the scout always was, but it was the quiet of confidence and strength.

Suddenly Reuben darted forward and seized the bridle rein of his waiting horse. At the same time he was peering eagerly toward the outlet of the valley into which Kit Carson had entered not long before. A moment later the young trapper was convinced that his surmise was correct. Forth from among the rocks suddenly the black leader appeared, running swiftly and yet lightly. Indeed, it almost seemed to Reuben as if the feet of the animal scarcely touched the ground, so lightly did he step. What pride and confidence, too, were in his very air. Occasionally he glanced behind, snorting with anger, but his swift pace was unbroken. Behind him came the other horses of the drove, the colts running in the centre, protected by the others. The presence of the colts prevented the leader from increasing the speed at which they were moving.

Not long after the appearance of the wild horses Reuben discovered Kit Carson. The scout was riding at the pace which the leader had first taken, and it was quickly plain that he could increase his speed at any moment. Several times the black leader halted and turned as if he almost had decided to stop and give battle. Each time, however, apparently he thought better of the project and returned to his place at the head of the drove.

For a mile or more the flight and the pursuit continued, Kit Carson not gaining, or even apparently attempting to gain, upon the horse he was so eager to secure. The scout, however, had outflanked the wild ponies and had succeeded after a time in turning their flight southward.

Assured now that the chase would lead directly to the place where he was waiting, and that he was almost certain to have a share in the exciting pursuit, Reuben drew his horse a little closer to the rock and in such a manner that he would be able to peer around its edge and watch the events that were occurring not far away.

Try as he might Kit Carson had been unable entirely to separate the black leader from his companions. Several times the wild horse had circled the body without permitting them to lessen the speed at which they were running. In this manner apparently he had satisfied himself that the pace he had set was not too swift for the colts.

On every such occasion the leader had stopped behind the running drove, watching the man approaching on horseback. Evidently he was suspicious of the danger that was threatening him, as indeed he well might be. Had he ever before been chased by the white men? The question was in Reuben’s mind, as he watched the actions of the departing animal, and the young trapper was convinced that the horse never had been in captivity. His spirits were not broken and his confidence in his own ability apparently was supreme.

When the chase had led two or three miles beyond the entrance to the valley, Kit Carson succeeded in turning the flight of the horses he was pursuing. Shouting and brandishing his gun, he rode directly toward the band, and in a moment the leader had changed the course and swung southward.