Thirty-One Years on the Plains and in the Mountains, Or, the Last Voice from the Plains / An Authentic Record of a Life Time of Hunting, Trapping, Scouting and Indian Fighting in the Far West

by William F. Drannan

"What boy?" asked Uncle Kit, as if he were astonished.

"Why, Willie. What are you going to do with him while we are away trapping?"

"Why, take him along to help us, of course."

"Thunderation!" exclaimed Hughes; "he will only be a bother to us in the mountains."

I had been with Kit Carson three months, and this was the first time I had seen him, apparently, out of humor. But at Hughes' last remark, he said in a decidedly angry tone:

"Jim Hughes, I want you to understand that wherever I go that boy can go, too, if he likes."

Hughes seeing that Carson did not like what he had said about "that boy," turned the matter off by saying that he had only made the remark to tease the boy.

Next morning Uncle Kit started a Mexican lad out to round up the horses, and the next two days were spent in fixing up our pack- saddles preparatory for the trip.

Our horses were as fat as seals, as there was no end to the range for them in this part of the country.

All being in readiness we pulled out from Taos, four of us, Uncle Kit, Mr. Hughes, myself and a Mexican boy named Juan. The latter went along to bring our horses back home.