Carson said, "I do not see that you can do better than take them along with you. If you leave them here, somebody will come along and take them, and they belong as much to you as to anyone."
So the next morning they rigged up five wagons with three yoke of cattle to a wagon, leaving eight wagons with their contents standing where their owners had left them when the Indians had killed them.
As they were ready to pull out, Uncle Kit went to them and asked them to give him their names and where they lived, "for," he said, "if I ever hear where any of the people lived who owned the property you have taken with you, I want to write to you so you can give them to their families."
We then bid them all good bye, and they started on their journey home, Carson having advised them not to molest the Indians no matter how many or how few they might meet on their way, and then the Indians would not molest them, as they were a friendly tribe, and that was the last we ever saw or heard of that party.
We now turned back to Bent's Fort and reached there just before night.
Col. Bent's herder took care of our horses.
That night Carson, Bridger and I consulted together, and Bridger and I decided to go with Uncle Kit to his home at Taos, Mexico, and stay a month with him, but fate seemed to step in and change my plans.
The next morning when the herder went out to get our horses he found a man crawling along, trying to get to the Fort, who was nearly starved and so weak that he could hardly speak.
The herder put him on his horse and brought him to the Fort, and we gave him some food. He said this was the first time he had broken his fast in four days, and then he went on to tell that he and his comrades, which were four altogether, had been among the first to come out to Cherry Creek in search of gold the spring before, and after they got there, they were so disappointed to find that there was not enough gold there to pay them to stay that they concluded to go and prospect on their own hooks. Each of them had taken as much provisions as he could carry, with his gun and blanket, pick and shovel, and they had struck out into the mountains. They had kept on at the foot of the mountain until they passed the Arkansaw river, and here they went up into the mountains and soon lost their way.
"How long we were traveling or where we went, I do not know," continued the unfortunate man, "and finally we forgot the day of the week. As long as our ammunition lasted, we did not lack for something to eat, and foolishly we sometimes shot game we did not need, and after a while our ammunition gave out, and when that happened it was not long until all the other stuff was gone, and we could not tell where we were until we got out of the mountains and saw Pike's Peak, as we knew what direction Pike's Peak was from Cherry Creek.
"We knew then what direction to take to get back. The second night after we left the mountains, one of the boys was taken very sick, and as we could not think of leaving him to die alone, and we had nothing to eat for him or for ourselves, and I being the strongest, they picked me to go and try to get relief. It has been four days and nights since I left them, and I do not believe I have slept over two hours at a time since I started, I was so anxious to find help to go to them. And besides, I was so hungry I could not rest. Many a time I have walked as long as I could keep my eyes open, and I would drop down beside a log and fall asleep before I struck the ground and slept an hour or two, and then awoke with that dreadful gnawing in my stomach. Then I got up again and struggled on, but I could not have gone much farther when the herder got up to me, for my strength was nearly gone, and I should have given up and died very soon. Nobody knows what I have suffered on this trip, except they that have gone through the same ordeal. We have about one hundred dollars between us, and we are willing to give it to anyone who will go and carry something to eat and help my comrades to come here."