Fremont sat up until about one o'clock reading his letters from the United States. Kit Carson and Owens, wrapped in their saddle blankets, had picked out their beds near the fire, as the night was cold. On concluding the reading of his correspondence, Fremont turned in and was soon sound asleep. All was quiet for awhile, when Kit Carson heard a noise that awaked him; the sound was like the stroke of an axe. Rising to his feet, he discovered Indians in the camp. While in the act of reaching for his rifle, he gave the alarm, to his slumbering companions; but, two of them were already sleeping their last sleep, for the fatal tomahawk had been buried in their brains. One of these victims was the brave Lajeunesse, while the other was a full-blooded Delaware Indian. As Kit Carson left the fire, where he was too conspicuous an object, he saw several warriors approaching towards it. There lay near to it four other Delawares, who, on hearing the alarm, sprang to their feet. One of them by the name of Crane, seized hold of a rifle which, unfortunately, was not his own, and was not loaded. The poor fellow was not aware of this important fact. He kept trying to fire it while he stood erect, and manfully received five arrows, all of which penetrated his left breast, and either one of which was sufficient to cause his death. At last, he fell. On grasping his gun, Kit Carson remembered that the evening before, he had discharged it for the purpose of cleaning it, and while doing so had accidentally broken its cap tube, and consequently he had not reloaded it. As this flashed across his mind, he threw the rifle down and drew from his belt a single-barrelled pistol, with which he made at the warrior who was so safely throwing his arrows into his companion. When sufficiently near, Kit Carson fired, but as the fellow kept dodging about, he only succeeded in cutting the string that held the tomahawk to its red owner's arm. Maxwell now shot at this same brave and hit him in the fleshy part of one leg; and, as he was turning to run, which was the case with most of the Indians by this time, a bullet from the rifle of a mountaineer passed through his heart and arrested his progress. The whites were now fully awakened to their danger, and about ready to commence the fight; but the enemy had scattered. If all the savages had shown the same quickness and coolness as did their foremost warrior, the probability is that the most, if not the whole of the party would have been massacred. As it was, the attack was well planned, but poorly carried out.

The result of the affair was, that Fremont lost three brave men, and had one other wounded slightly. It now became evident that the party had fallen into a snare which was intended for Lieutenant Gillespie and his small force, but the coming up of Fremont had caused the assassins to find they had caught a Tartar.

Fremont and his party apprehended no danger that night; consequently, they did not post a guard, and as the men were very tired they slept very soundly. Before lying down, several of them had fired off their rifles, and, after cleaning them, they had neglected to reload them. This was the first and last time they were guilty of such a mistake while in an Indian country.

Of the three men killed, the one by the name of Lajeunesse was the most regretted, for he had been with Fremont on his previous expeditions, and had won the admiration and confidence of his commander and companions. In a small company of men, such as these expeditions were composed of, where every member becomes intimately known and admired by his companions, the loss of one would be greatly felt; but, when three such were thus suddenly taken, it caused a gloom to be cast over the remainder, not easily to be dispelled. The only consolation left to the living was, that they had been instrumental in saving Lieutenant Gillespie and his four companions; therefore, in sacrificing their comrades, they had saved more lives than had been lost.

There were no more thoughts of sleep in this camp for that eventful night; but instead, the men selected positions behind neighboring trees and fallen logs, and were ready to receive the enemy should they see fit to visit them again.

The Indians, however, as Kit Carson predicted, had come to the wise conclusion not to attempt so unsatisfactory a business as another attack, for the grey light of the following day came without their reappearance. Before the sun had fairly risen, Fremont had broken up this camp, which had become odious to the men from its unpleasant associations. With their packs, and with the bodies of their dead companions, the party started to find their rear guard. They had proceeded about ten miles on their journey, when, by unanimous consent, they resolved to halt and inter the remains, which they had wished to carry until they united their forces, so that all could participate in the funeral rites; but, the woods through which they were traveling were very thick, and already the bodies had become greatly disfigured, on account of their frequently striking against the trees, as they were fastened on the backs of three animals.

Slowly and sadly, in that dense forest, hundreds of miles from their nearest countrymen, was this funeral procession formed. A spot was selected on one side of the main trail, at a distance of about one half mile, where a rude grave was dug, and, wrapped in their blankets, in the same common house, were deposited all that remained of these three brave men. An observer of these obsequies, would have seen the lips of daring men, now and then, giving spasmodic twitchings; eyes swimming in tears, and a silence and solemnity that bespoke the truest kind of grief. Among that party, such a one would have been sure to have marked out the countenance of Kit Carson; for, engraven on it were the throes which were troubling his kind heart on being thus obliged to separate from old friends. Not a man left that grave, but who resolved, secretly and silently, to make these dastardly Indians suffer for the lives they had thus wantonly taken. In fact, they felt it an imperative duty they yet owed to their departed comrades; who, if they but stood in their places, would have sworn to be avenged; hence, the reader must not judge them harshly if they nourished these feelings.

That very day the two parties met and went into camp together. Plans were concocted to chastise the red men soundly. The next day, on quitting this last resting-place, a squad of fifteen men was left concealed in the neighborhood, in order to watch and act against any Indians who, by chance, might be following them from one camp to another, in hopes of finding something. The main command then moved on slowly, and had advanced but a few miles when they were overtaken by their friends, who came up with two scalps. These were the sum total of their morning's work. The two warriors to whom they had belonged were caught following the trail as scouts of their main body. The unerring rifles of the party in ambush had performed their fearful duty.

CHAPTER X.

Fremont en route for California—His men are anxious to punish the Tlamath Indians—Kit Carson, in command of ten Men, is sent on ahead to reconnoitre—He discovers the main Village of these Indians—The Attack and the Victory—Beautiful Lodges—The Trophies mostly destroyed—Fremont saves Kit Carson's Life—The Journey resumed—The Sacramento Valley—An Indian Ambuscade—One Savage defies the Party—Kit Carson shoots him—The Tlamath Indians still on the War Path—Another Lesson given to them—A Thief is shot—Arrival at Lawson's Trading Post—A period of Inactivity—A Detachment sent to capture Sonoma—Prisoners taken—The Mexicans come to punish the Americans—Their Courage deserts them—The Retreat—The Pursuit—Fremont goes to Sutter's Fort and establishes a Military Post—Monterey is taken by the American Squadron—Fremont marches there—Further Operations—The taking of Los Angelos.

The news of war having been declared between the United States and Mexico, determined Fremont to return to California; and, in doing so, he decided to enter that country by a new route of his own selection.

He commenced his journey by traveling around Lake Tlamath, and had not proceeded far in that direction, before he found himself encamped on a small stream which empties into the lake, nearly opposite to the place where his three men were killed. The distance of each day's progress had been carefully reckoned and noted by the party. Upon their minds there was still resting a sadness, which, their leader saw, was only to be effaced by a satisfactory revenge, and that they were eager to obtain it before quitting the country. Perhaps, also, their commanding officer thought it best, while the opportunity offered, for the benefit of his countrymen, whom he felt sure would some day possess this territory, to impress these savages with the power and bravery of the white men. Whatever was the object to be gained, it matters not in relating the particulars. The next morning he sent Kit Carson on ahead, with ten chosen men, giving him orders to the effect that if he discovered a large village of Indians, which was the general surmise, without being himself seen, he was to send back word; when he (Fremont) would hasten on with reinforcements, in order to make the assault. If it should happen that the Indians were the first to be apprised of his near approach, then, without delay, Carson was to engage them as he thought best. Acting under these instructions, Kit Carson, with his detail of men, set out, and fortunately soon found a fresh trail that led directly to where the savages had established their village. This Indian village numbered fifty lodges; and, to each wigwam, the mountaineers estimated three braves, as this is the complement of men who live in one of these huts on the prairies and in the Rocky Mountains; thus making the force of the Indians to be in the neighborhood of one hundred and fifty. From the commotion noticed in the village, it was evident to all present that the tribe had become aware of danger, and that there was no time to be lost in sending back the desired information. Kit Carson, notwithstanding the strength of his enemies, determined to hazard an attack; and, after a brief consultation with his companions, he decided to take advantage of the confusion that was existing among the red men by charging right in among them. If ever there is a time when Indians will stand their ground, it is when defending their families; therefore, on this occasion, the white men were warmly received; but, they fought with such a degree of desperation, as they themselves had never done before. The result was, that the savages became panic stricken, and soon afterwards fled, leaving everything they possessed behind them. The victors, after pursuing the Indians for some distance, and adding a few more to the list of killed, returned to the village, which they found to be rich in booty. The lodges here taken, Kit Carson describes as being the most tasty pieces of handiwork that Indian skill could devise, and surpassed anything of the kind that he had previously looked upon. They were made of the broad leaves of the swamp flag, which were beautifully and intricately woven together. Within the wigwams, the party found a very large amount of fish in different stages of preservation for future use. Wishing to do these people as much harm as possible, and thus be even with them for their recent savage cruelties on their own party, Kit Carson gave the order to collect everything in the lodges and arrange the articles in such manner that fire would either destroy, or completely damage them. Having accomplished this work, the lighted tinder was applied, when the flames leaped high up in the air, forming a fit funeral pyre for their slain companions. Fremont saw the reflection of the fire, and also the smoke, and at once knew that Kit Carson was engaged with the Indians; consequently, he pushed on at a very rapid pace to assist him. He arrived too late for what the men called the sport; but instead, heard the report of his lieutenant and guide, Kit Carson, whose words, to use his (Fremont's) own language, "are synonymous with truth." The gloom which had prevailed over the party, while the men recounted to their friends the details of the fight was temporarily dispelled; and, while thus engaged, the command moved on about two miles from the Indian village. Having here selected a site, they went into camp. After comfortably stowing themselves away in this resting-place, another "war talk" was called, and what was best to be done was canvassed over. After the adjournment of the council, Fremont decided to send back twenty men, under Richard Owens, to the neighborhood of the ruins of the village, there to conceal themselves and await the return of the Indians; who, it was thought, might come back to look after their dead. He did so; and Owens had not been secreted a great while before about fifty savages returned, and, by the moon's light, were quite visible. As had been previously agreed upon, word was sent by a trusty messenger to Fremont, who, with six companions, Kit Carson being of the number, hastened on horseback to join his outpost. For fear of being discovered, Fremont chose a different route from the one taken by Owens, which was quite direct, while that of the former was circuitous. On approaching the smouldering remains of the village, Kit Carson discovered only one Indian wandering about on the ground. As soon almost as he was seen by the party, they made a dash at him. Kit Carson was in the advance, and on arriving within about ten feet of the warrior, he drew up his horse and brought his rifle to his shoulder to fire, but the gun only snapped, and left its owner in a very precarious situation, as the red man had already drawn the string of his bow to plant an arrow in the body of his adversary. A moment more and, in all probability, Kit Carson would have been breathing his last. Fremont saw the danger his friend was in, although Kit had tried to avoid the arrow by throwing himself on one side of his horse. With much forethought, as well as personal exposure, he plunged the rowels of his spurs deep into his riding animal. The noble horse, obeying the impetus thus given by his rider, made a few extra strides, until he reached, knocked down and passed over the Indian, thereby causing his arrow to fly in a different direction from the one intended. Before the savage could regain his feet, a ball from one of the rifles belonging to the party had sent him to his last resting-place. Fremont now learned from Owens, that while the messenger was absent, the rest of the Indians had decamped, and as he had received orders from him to await his coming in case he found the enemy, therefore, he was obliged to let the rascals quietly depart without firing into them, which was much to his own and his men's displeasure.

It was now necessary to return without delay to their own camp, and thus anticipate the movements of the Indians, as they might conclude to make an attack in that quarter; but, on arriving there, they found everything safe; nor were they, during that night, in any way disturbed. Kit Carson was, and is still, very grateful to Fremont for thus interposing between him and almost certain death; for it would have been the work of an instant for the Indian warrior, at ten feet distance, to have sent an arrow into some vital organ. It was such noble generosity, bravery, and disinterested exposure in the hour of peril, in order to serve his men, that strongly cemented Fremont to them. Indeed, in all of his expeditions, he had such command over his employees, that little or no trouble ever occurred among them while on their marches, although they had privations and dangers to undergo that would often try men of the most even temper.

On the day following the one on which his party had encountered and chastised the Tlamath Indians, Fremont started for the Valley of the Sacramento. The expedition was progressing well, and was four days out from this last camp; when, as two of the men, whose names were Maxwell and Archambeau, were out hunting at a distance of about three miles on one side of their friends, they were surprised at seeing one Indian, on foot, approaching towards them.

The hunters, in order to do away with all suspicion, at once halted and laid down their arms, to show the warrior that they were friendly disposed. They thought it was best to have a "talk" with him, and question him in regard to the country they were then in. As he showed no symptoms of fear, but kept coming on, they supposed that he had understood their actions; therefore, they paid but little attention to him, until they saw him stop. Their curiosity was now excited to know his intentions; and, as they watched his movements, they saw him take some young crows from his quiver, and, after untying the string that held them, he concealed them to his satisfaction in the grass, and again moved forward; but, while doing so, he was busy arranging his weapons for immediate use. The white men were not astonished at this, for they concluded that he was only preparing himself against danger. The Indian slowly advanced to a spot that was within fifteen yards of the hunters, when he again stopped, and commenced shooting his arrows at them. At first they dodged about, and made signs for him to desist, as they were friends; but, to their admonitions he paid not the least attention. Several of the missiles had come near causing them bodily injury. After a time, forbearance ceased to be a virtue. Raising his rifle, one of the men fired; when, to use mountaineer parlance, the Indian "went under."

What could have been the foolhardy ideas of this warrior that compelled him to take such a course as he did, not one of the party, when they were informed of the adventure, could conjecture; but, a fact it is, that he lost his life and his scalp by his indiscretion. In due time the command reached the Sacramento River, and were proceeding on the trail down that stream, when they came to a point, not far from a deep cañon, the sides of which were almost perpendicular and composed of cragged rocks. Fremont decided not to pass through this deep gorge, but instead, to travel around it; and he did so by crossing the river. It proved afterwards to be a very fortunate change; for, their old enemies, the Tlamath Indians, had concealed themselves there, thinking, as a matter of course, that the white men would keep the trail. Seeing that the white men were not coming into the ambuscade laid for them, the Indians became so disappointed that they boldly ventured forth from their hiding-places. A few, more daring than the rest, advanced into open ground, when Carson, Godey, and another member of the party, made a dash at them. They all ran except one warrior, and as the charging party were mounted on mules, they made but poor progress in overtaking them. The one Indian who, apparently, had resolved to make war on his own account, concealed himself behind a rock, strung his bow, putting several arrows in his mouth, and thus awaited the advance of his foes. Kit Carson and Godey soon came within shooting distance, when he began to let fly his arrows, and kept it up so briskly, that the men dodged about, without being able to do anything else for some moments. At last, wearying of this dangerous sport, Kit Carson dismounted, and crept around until he obtained a good sight at the Indian; when, he drew up his rifle, fired, and sent a bullet through his heart. From this dead brave, Kit Carson took a beautifully wrought bow and quiver, which still contained a large number of arrows, and which he presented, on rejoining the party, to Lieutenant Gillespie. It is a pity that such a brave man as this savage was, should have met with such an inglorious death; but, it was his own seeking, for he had attacked the wrong persons. Another twenty-four hours now passed by without any further annoyance from the Indians; who, notwithstanding the late forcible instruction they had received, still continued to hover around, and follow after the exploring party. On encamping the next evening, after Kit Carson had killed the Indian, as above described, the party found themselves entirely destitute of anything to eat, although they were very hungry. Game had, all at once, become very scarce, as the hunters whose turn it was to be out that day, had returned unsuccessful. Two more men were then sent out, in hopes that by perseverance they might find something. They had not proceeded far before they discovered an Indian watching their camp, as if awaiting a favorable opportunity to make a descent on the animals. Step (one of these hunters) crept unperceived by the red man until he was within range of his rifle, when he fired, and killed the would-be thief. No other game could be found, so the hunters returned, and the whole party retired to rest supperless, and arose the next morning to fast again. That day, however, they found and killed some game, and for the time being, their appetites were once more appeased. Fremont was now on his way to Peter Lawson's Fort, where he arrived safely, after several days of hard traveling. At this place the party rested for about one week; but the desire to have an active share in the approaching hostilities, caused Fremont to delay no longer than was absolutely necessary; hence, he started and went to a point lower down on the Sacramento, known to the mountaineers under the name of the Buttes. Here, a camp was made, and here Fremont had decided to wait positive orders concerning the war; and, until these instructions should arrive, he employed his men in hunting. After several days spent in this way, he began to weary of inactivity. He thought that, in all probability, war had commenced; and, finally, he decided to take the responsibility of sending a part of his force to surprise Sonoma—a Mexican military post that had but a weak garrison. This the party accomplished to the entire satisfaction of their commander. They captured and made prisoners of war at this fort, one general and two captains, besides taking several cannon and quite a quantity of small arms. It was about this time that news reached Fremont which convinced him that hostilities had already commenced, and that both countries were taking active measures to carry the war on with vigor. He set out immediately, on the receipt of this information, and joined his detail of men at Sonoma. During his stay at this fort, General Castro sent one of his captains, with a large force of Mexicans, from San Francisco, with orders to drive the Americans out of the country. This command came, and accidentally fell upon and butchered two men whom Fremont had sent out as messengers to inform all American settlers that Sonoma had been taken by him, and that thither they could fly for safety. The gallant Mexican captain, on seeing and hearing that Fremont's forces were anxious to meet him, becoming disheartened, began to retreat, and was pursued by the exploring party. For six days they thus followed the retreating enemy, whose courage had evidently deserted them though they had triple the force of their pursuers. So hot was the chase, that the Mexicans deserted many of their animals, which, as a matter of course, fell into the hands of the Americans. Fremont, on finding that he could not overtake the enemy, returned to Sonoma. The captain, with his Mexican command, as was afterwards learned, did not remain at San Francisco. No doubt he did not like to trust himself within reach of Fremont, for he continued his march until he reached the Pueblo of Los Angelos, where he was rejoined by General Castro, who reorganized the forces and assumed the command himself. The exploring party had now become a military expedition, and around this nucleus the Americans, then in California, flocked to pour out their vengeance against their country's foes. Having quite a little army at his disposal, Fremont left a strong detachment at Sonoma, and departed with the rest of his command for Sutter's Fort. On arriving there, he placed the fort under military rule, and left his prisoners, General Vallejos and the two captains, who had been captured at Sonoma. Also an American by the name of Lace, who was a brother-in-law to General Vallejos, and whose predilections appeared to lean in favor of the Mexican side. With all his mountain men, including Kit Carson, Fremont then took up his line of march towards Monterey, for the purpose of attacking and taking possession of the town; but, this movement had been anticipated by Commodore Sloat and the American squadron. Soon after Fremont's arrival at Monterey (where he was very kindly received by the commodore and his officers), Commodore Sloat left the country, and the command devolved upon Commodore Stockton.

A consultation having been held among the officers, it was the prevailing opinion that it would be impossible to overtake and engage the Mexicans by following them up on land; therefore Fremont asked for a ship to take his force to San Diego, where he could obtain animals and march on to Los Angelos. The United States vessel Cyane, under the command of Capt. Dupont, was furnished him for this undertaking by Commodore Stockton. In four days time the party arrived at San Diego, where they landed. They there parted with the ship and the gallant captain, with many pleasant reminiscences of their short voyage. At San Diego, Fremont found himself at the head of about one hundred and fifty men, which was not a very strong force to be in an enemy's country with, especially so far from their homes as they were. However, nearly every man was a veteran in war, and the whole body felt themselves invincible, which was a source of great consolation to their leader. From San Diego, parties of the command were sent to scour the neighboring country, in order to bring in a sufficient number of horses to mount the men. This being accomplished, Fremont set out for Los Angelos, where the Governor and Gen. Castro had a force of seven hundred men at their disposal. These officials, with their soldiers, on learning the near approach of the Americans, broke up and fled, most of them taking the road to Sonora, while the balance scattered, not apparently caring where they went, as long as they did not come in contact with the Americans. Fremont marched within about one league of the town, and encamped to await, as had been previously agreed upon, the arrival of Commodore Stockton, who soon joined him at this place with a party of sailors and marines, "As fine a body of men," says Kit Carson, "as ever I looked upon."

When the two commands had been consolidated, they marched direct for Los Angelos, which they easily captured, as its would-be defenders had some days before deserted it. In this town the command was quartered for some time; but, as it is our intention to follow the career of Kit Carson, who, shortly after their arrival, had been detailed for important duty, which placed him in new scenes; hence, we are necessitated to take leave of affairs as they transpired there, and hereafter revert to them casually as they connect with our narrative.

CHAPTER XI.

Kit Carson is sent Overland as Bearer of Dispatches to Washington—The Preparation and the Start—The Journey—Privations and Sufferings—Meeting with General Kearney—The General takes Carson as his Guide and sends on the Dispatches by Fitzpatrick—The March—Arrival at Warner's Ranche—Mexicans on the Road—Preparations for a Battle—The Battle—Disastrous Consequences—Kit Carson and Lieutenant Beale offer to run the lines of the Mexican Sentinels and carry Information to San Diego of Kearney's critical position—The Daring Undertaking—The Sufferings they encountered—Their Arrival—Reinforcements sent out—Lieutenant Beale is Delirious from the Privations he has undergone—Gen. Kearney and his Command finally reach and join the other American Forces in California.

On the 15th day of September, 1846, Kit Carson was placed in the command of fifteen men, with orders to make an overland journey to Washington, as bearer of very important dispatches.

At the time of which we write, there was no steam communication, as now, viâ the two great oceans, consequently, the intercourse between our brave countrymen in California and the government at Washington was attended with extreme difficulty. Fortunately, Fremont had in Kit Carson just the man to make such a journey through an enemy's country.

Kit Carson was instructed to use his utmost endeavors to make the journey in sixty days, which was no small undertaking, when we consider the great distance to be traveled over and the obstacles that lay in his path; he undertook it, however, with a determination not to be easily frustrated.

By judicious management and watchfulness, Kit was making good progress, and had reached a point within two days' travel of the Copper Mines in New Mexico without being in any way annoyed. Here he came into full view of a village of Apache Indians, who were then, as they nearly ever since have been, at war with the Americans. He had been discovered by these Indians, and there was but one true way to act, which was not to show the white feather by attempting to evade them. Fremont's dispatch bearer had not the least idea of that; he was too well schooled in Indian stratagem to be out-manœuvered, so he rode on as if nothing had happened until he came to some timber that lay within one hundred yards of their village, when he halted. At first the Indians were disconcerted at the boldness of the whites, and were showing it by hurrying to and fro, either for the purpose of leaving or to be better prepared to offer fight. On arriving near enough so to do, Kit Carson called to the savages and informed them that his party were friends and wished a parley. To this an assent was given, when Kit made them understand that he and his men were simply travelers, en route for New Mexico; that they carried the olive branch of peace with them, and had come among them bearing it, in the hopes of being able to exchange their fatigued animals for others that were fresh. With this the Indians were satisfied; therefore, Carson chose a camping-ground for himself and men, and selected the site so that they could best contend against the treachery of the red men, should they attempt any. When the camp was arranged, the Indians were allowed to come in; and, soon after, the trading commenced, which proved to be very successful, for the men obtained very good riding animals in place of their old ones. Their intercourse with this band of Apaches closed early the next day, when both parties bid each other good bye on the most friendly terms.

A few days more of travel brought Kit Carson and his men to the first Mexican settlement which then stood in their road. Their arrival in the town happened very opportunely, having for the past few days been suffering severely from hunger. They had started from California with but a small stock of dried meat and corn, not being able conveniently to carry more without impeding their progress; therefore, they were left to depend on their rifles. Game they found to be scarce; and, in a short time, their meat was expended. Being reduced to the corn, they were, as a matter of necessity, very sparing of it. The maize was parched, and for several days they derived their entire subsistence from it; though, on account of the short allowance, they but poorly satiated their appetites. About the time succor appeared to them in the shape of this Mexican town, even the maize was nearly used up. They were delighted to reach a place where they would be able to replenish their provisions. It was well known to their commander that, as a dernier resort, he could kill and live upon his riding animals, but in so doing, he would cripple his means so much, that the business he was on might prove a failure. While so much depended on it, he felt that he ought not to leave any other means untried before resorting to such a procedure. It was true, the Mexicans at that time were at war; but, there were scattered over New Mexico, in almost every town, former friends of Kit Carson, who would, he felt confident, serve him in the hour of trial. At the first ranche they came to, they halted and made a rest of two or three days, while Kit employed himself in purchasing supplies, in which he succeeded beyond even his expectations.

It was while obeying instructions, in traveling as fast as possible, that one day, the sixth of October, 1846, the party discerned something which, at first, looked like a mere speck moving on the prairies. Watching it with intense anxiety, the little speck increased in size until they saw it emerge, as it were, from the apparent junction of the heavens with the earth, and form a visible line; as the front of this column came nearer to view, they discovered that it was a strong detachment of United States troops. The truth was now evident to them all that this was an expedition sent out by government to operate in California. Spurring on their animals, Kit and his men soon met the advance guard of the soldiers and learned that their commander was Gen. Kearney, who was further back in the lines. On coming to the general, Kit Carson reported himself, informed him of the business he was on, and also furnished him with all the intelligence in his power in reference to the disposal of the American forces in California, besides detailing to him what had already been accomplished in that quarter.

After due deliberation, Gen. Kearney determined to send Mr. Fitzpatrick on to Washington with the dispatches and to order Kit Carson to join him as guide. In fulfilling this duty, he well knew that Kit would be invaluable to him. Acting on this decision, he sent for Kit Carson and informed him of what he wished him to do. Kit Carson replied, "As the general thinks best." The fact was, that Kit well knew he could be of great service to the command, and he was too honest not to confess it, though he was now nearly in reach of his happy home and its loved inmates, from whom he had been so long separated and whom he fondly wished to see. In facing about, Kit took upon his shoulders the prospect of encountering fearful dangers; but, he undertook his new duties without allowing a murmur to escape his lips, and without even asking additional pay; though, had he but mentioned it, the general could not have well refused the demand. A noble motive engrossed Kit Carson's mind. He has ever labored to win and wear the confidence and respect of his countrymen, being ambitious to leave a name behind him that shall be an honor to his friends and family.

On the eighteenth day of October, 1846, General Kearney and his command left the Rio Del Norte, in New Mexico. The services of Kit Carson in directing the route, proved the wisdom of General Kearney in making the change in the bearers of dispatches. So true was Kit Carson's guidance, that the command traveled with so much dispatch as to reach Warner's Ranche, in California, on the third day of December following. From this place it took up a line of march for San Diego.

While on their march, news was brought in by their spies that a strong command of Mexican Californians had taken up a position on their route, evidently awaiting their advance with the view of attacking them. This occurred on the sixth day of the same month. General Kearney made no change in his route, but advanced to within fifteen miles of the enemy's encampment. Here he commanded a halt. A reconnoitering party, consisting of fifteen dragoons, commanded by Lieutenant Hammond, was sent on in advance to note the position and force of the enemy. He proceeded upon the duty, but was discovered by the Mexicans. Nevertheless, he fortunately succeeded in making his observations previous to being seen. His report to General Kearney, among other facts, stated that these Mexican soldiers had strongly established themselves in an Indian village.

General Kearney determined, without delay to attack them. Orders were given to resume the march; and, by one o'clock the next morning the American soldiers had fastened all their packs on their mules, and were themselves mounted and ready for the command to move. The order came without delay, and the little army was immediately in motion. Fourteen miles of the space which separated the two parties were passed without interruption. When within one mile of the Mexican position, the advance guard of the Americans suddenly came upon a small advance guard of the Mexicans, who were evidently posted to watch their approach and guard the road. As soon as they were discovered, the trumpets of the dragoons sounded, in quick succession, the orders to trot, and to gallop. The Americans were so prompt in making their charge that they came upon the Mexicans, when a sharp skirmish ensued, in which several of the enemy were killed. The remainder of the outpost were driven in, bearing the news of the attack to their friends. Captain Johnson, Kit Carson and fifteen American soldiers formed the attacking party in this affair. They had been ordered to secure the loose animals belonging to the enemy. In this they failed, the animals being too strongly guarded, and because, upon the first alarm, they were driven out of harm's way.

This attack, however, proved to be the commencement of a serious fight. Seeing that his orders could not be obeyed in regard to the animals of the enemy, Captain Johnson and his party joined a party under Captain Moore. The force of the latter consisted of twenty-five American volunteers from California, who had attached themselves to General Kearney's command since its arrival in the country. Moore's command also comprised parts of two companies of United States dragoons. Captain Moore had been ordered to make an attack on the centre of the enemy, in order to cut their forces in two, and thereby cause confusion in their ranks. As has been stated, Captain Johnson, with his little force, joined Captain Moore in making this attack. While the charge was in progress, and when within one hundred yards of the Mexican camp, Kit Carson's horse, occupying a leading position in the column of attack, accidentally fell, and threw his rider with such force as to break the wood part, or stock, of his rifle into several pieces, rendering it useless. His position, for a short time, was precarious. Being foremost in the charge when the accident happened, the whole troop of horse came galloping over him as he lay upon the ground. His escape was almost a miracle. When the last horseman had passed, Kit arose, and was quite happy to find that he had received only slight contusions, which did not in the least impair his movements or strength of body. Casting a hasty glance over the field, he discovered a dead dragoon, not far distant from the spot where he himself had fallen. Instantly running up to the poor fellow, he relieved him of his gun and cartridge-box. Being once more armed, he rushed forward at the top of his speed and plunged into the thickest of the fight, which was then severely contested. Captain Johnson and several of the more advanced soldiers had been killed by the bullets of the enemy, almost at the same instant that Kit Carson's horse had fallen. It is not at all unlikely, therefore, that the accidental falling of his horse had been the means of saving Kit Carson's life. After a desperate and deadly conflict, Moore and his men dislodged the enemy, causing them to retreat. They were followed by the Americans, but, unfortunately for their complete success, the large majority of the latter were mounted on mules. These, when the firing commenced, became almost unmanageable. But forty of the entire command of General Kearney were mounted on horses, and these were none the best for cavalry purposes, having been but recently broken to the saddle. They had been captured since the arrival of the American forces in the country, from a party of Mexicans, who were en route to Sonora, by Lieutenant Davidson and twenty-five dragoons, assisted by Kit Carson. By the uncontrollable actions of the stubborn mules, Moore's men became greatly separated and could not act in concert. This rendered the pursuit, so far as the enemy was concerned, nearly harmless.

The Mexicans, quickly perceiving the condition of their assailants, and comprehending the chances, which the apparent difficulty gave them, at once rallied and turned on their pursuers. The fight was renewed with most determined courage. The Mexicans fought with a bravery and success which turned the hitherto, comparatively speaking, bloodless victory of the Americans, into a terrible slaughter. Every moment saw some brave dragoon yield up his life to the deadly bullets or blows of the exasperated Mexicans. Out of the forty dragoons who were mounted on horses, thirty-six were either killed or severely wounded. Among the names to be added to the sad list already killed, was Captain Moore, "as brave a man," says Kit Carson, "as ever drew breath in any service." As fast as the scattered American soldiers could reach the scene of carnage, they joined in the battle; but, the Mexicans, elated by their success, fought like demons, and seemed to sweep everything before them.

General Kearney, seeing his officers thus shot down, drawing his sword, placed himself at the head of his remaining forces; and, though severely wounded, he made a desperate attempt to cause the enemy, once more, to retreat. At this crisis of affairs, Lieutenant Davidson arrived on the ground with two mountain howitzers. Before he could get his guns unlimbered and ready to commence firing, nearly every man he had to work them was shot down, being either killed or badly wounded. Following up their success, the Mexicans charged right up to the guns, and, with the lasso, unerring in their hands, captured the horses attached to, and, on the instant, made off with one of the guns. On reaching a distance of three hundred yards, they halted and prepared to turn the fire of the howitzer upon the Americans. From some unaccountable reason, it would not go off. Lieutenant Davidson did his utmost to prevent the loss of this gun, and after several narrow escapes from dangerous lance wounds, as his clothing and saddle sufficiently attested, he was finally stricken down, and nearly gave his life a sacrifice to his heroism.

After being thus badly cut up, and with not more than one or two officers left who had not been either killed or wounded, while the men had been handled with equal severity, the Americans were obliged to take refuge at a point of rocks which chanced to be near where their advance had been defeated. A rally was made at this place. The Mexicans, however, did not venture to attack them. Both sides were apparently weary of fighting for that day. The firing ceased, and soon after, night closed over the scene of the battle field.

These California Mexicans, previous to the war with the United States, were considered by the mountaineers as the bravest Spanish blood in the Mexican provinces. During the war, they proved that they had not been over-estimated, as they met their foes, at the commencement of hostilities, with a determination to win, or sell their lives dearly. The reason of this difference of courage in their favor over their countrymen who inhabited the internal States, is supposed to be owing to their opportunities for intercourse with the bold mariners from different countries who visited them in ships for the purpose of trade. This commerce consisted in the transporting into the country of such articles as arms, ammunition, groceries, and dry goods, for which were bartered, hides, tallow, and furs. The currency of California at that time was hides, which were estimated as so many dollars. The raising of cattle and horses was the leading employment of the people, and occupied most of their time. On the discovery of gold, these affairs underwent a change, and the rapid strides of civilization has left this people far in the minority. The horses of California were celebrated as being larger than the ponies of New Mexico, and also for being much fleeter of foot. The California rider, at that time, was looked upon as being unrivaled by those who had witnessed his performances. However, the intercourse between the two countries was very limited among the Mexicans, and it was difficult to find a New Mexican who had seen the Pacific. Their dialects were also slightly different, as much so as happens in the dependencies of any other country. It was fear of the Indians that put a damper on the travel between these adjoining districts. The society of the man who had had the boldness to make a journey to California from New Mexico was courted, he being considered a renowned traveler. His amusing stories of large ships and the men who managed them, and also, of the great expanse of the ocean, amazed his auditors and made them deeply interested in his conversation and information. It has become a strange sight to look upon whole communities of men, who have only heard of steamboats, telegraphs, railroads and other great improvements and inventions of the age, yet there are thousands of men living in the great interior of the North American continent who have only vague ideas of these things; and many there are, who cannot realize them, but believe that they are fabulous stories, and will meet the narrator of them with equal wonders, which they manufacture to suit the occasion. To give a specimen: we remember one night to have tried to explain these advancements to an old Mexican of some eighty winters, while we were the guest of his house. He listened attentively, but evidently could comprehend but little that we said. We changed the subject, and began to describe to him the great beasts of the forest, such as the lion, the tiger, and the elephant, and soon found that we had struck the theme which pleased him. In reply, he told us that in his younger days he himself was a famous hunter; and that, on one occasion, while on the chase, he met Adam, who, he informed us, was the greatest hunter of his age. We were somewhat surprised to hear this old man thus annihilate time and space, but not more so than when we heard him relate the conversation that passed between himself and Adam. It was both short and sweet. The Mexican demanded of Adam what was the particular game he was seeking in these parts, and the reply was deer. He said that he wished to kill a few choice bucks, in order to get their skins to clothe Eve with, and hence he had come to the Rocky Mountains. The flavor of this yarn was so good, I attempted to try the old man on another adventure, by asking him if he ever, by chance, in his travels, met the Evil One. Immediately, he informed me that at one time, that gentleman lived in a salt marsh, which is to be found in the valley of San Louis. The object of his staying there was to watch a very fine band of horses which he was raising near by. The Indians and Mexicans one day determined to deprive Satan of his stock, and arranged things accordingly; but, on coming upon the horses, they were surprised to find that they could not overtake them, and that the horses ran directly into the swamp and vanished by easily sinking out of sight. While looking for a path that led into this marsh, they were all at once scared nearly out of their senses by seeing the devil raise himself up in the midst of the bog. The sequel was, that the Mexicans and their Indian friends retreated as fast as possible, and never stopped until they had reached a place of safety. My companions became vexed to think any man could perpetrate such a story on travelers, who considered they knew a thing or two, and commenced quizzing the old gentleman by asking him what the Indians knew of Satan; but the old Mexican evaded the answer by taking down the little wooden cross which hung on the wall of the room and expressed the desire to confirm the truth of his story by swearing to it; this, of course, was said to be entirely unnecessary. From it, we had learned the lesson never to try to impress on the minds of the ignorant too weighty matters. This is true with the Indian also; for, he is incredulous of anything beyond the grasp of his own mind; which fact is illustrated by the following incident. An American had some business to transact with a certain band of Indians, who were celebrated as being very treacherous. Being a bold man, he thought he would beard the lions in their den, and accordingly, traveled alone to where the band was located; but, instead of being received with open arms, as he expected, he was made a prisoner, and so held until it could be decided what was to be done with him. At last, a council was formed, before which he was to be tried. The first question asked by the head chief was, "How do your white people get gunpowder?" The reply was instantaneous: "We sow it in a peculiar soil and it grows up like wheat." This was responded to by a grunt from the examiner. A pause ensued, when the chief looked the captive full in the eyes, and thus addressed him: "Know you, young man, that the Great Spirit came into our camp this morning, and after resting a short time he took yonder large hill and placed it on the top of its fellow, and after leaving it there two hours, he returned it to its former site. He then bid his Indian children good bye. Young man, your tongue is split: one fork is for telling lies, and the other is for telling truths." This was enough to convince the white man that he had made a mistake, and, that if he had attempted to presume on too much knowledge, his scalp might soon be dangling on some lodge-pole. The Indians admired the brave and manly course he had pursued in coming to them single-handed, and this, with the importance of the business he came on, saved his life.

The California Mexicans were so remote from their capital, that, although they acknowledged their allegiance to the general government, yet they were accustomed, in many things, to act with great independence. Whenever a governor was sent to them who would not conform to their rules and regulations, or made himself in the least obnoxious, he was immediately placed on board ship, with orders to take himself out of the country as fast as possible, which he never failed to obey, in order to save his life. Attempts were made by the home department to make them suffer for these disobediences of the general laws, but, in all of these contests, the Californians came out victorious, and hence they believed they were beyond the power of being vanquished. They were taught differently by the Americans.

These few cursory remarks will serve to show the reader that General Kearney had no despicable foe to overcome and subdue. His care now was to attend to the wounded. There was no rest for his command that night, as, during the hours of darkness, his men were busy interring their dead and looking after the wants of the sufferers. A sharp look-out, also, was kept on the movements of the enemy, who were continually receiving reinforcements. A council of war was held in the American camp, when Gen. Kearney, after taking the advice of his remaining officers, decided to move on early in the morning, with the hope of meeting reinforcements. He had dispatched three men as bearers of dispatches to Commodore Stockton at San Diego before the battle; but, whether they had been successful, or not, in reaching the commodore, the general did not know. Just before the late fight, they had returned to within sight of their friends, when they were taken prisoners by the Mexicans. The order of the march on the following day was as follows: Kit Carson, with a command of twenty-five men, proceeded in the advance, while the remainder, of the now very much crippled band of soldiers, followed after on the trail made by their guide. Steadily and compactly these brave men moved forward, being continually in expectancy of a charge from the enemy, who would show themselves, from time to time, on the neighboring hills, and then again, for a time, disappear. During the previous day, a Mexican lieutenant had his horse shot from under him and he himself had been taken prisoner. On a favorable opportunity occurring, General Kearney ordered the "halt" to be sounded; when, through a flag of truce, he asked a parley. It being granted, he succeeded in making an exchange of the lieutenant for one of his expressmen. He gained nothing by this, for the man stated that he and his companions had found it impossible to reach their point of destination, and hence they had turned back. The manœuvering on the part of the Mexicans, which we have alluded to as consisting of making temporary stands on the hills, and then changing their positions as the Americans drew near to them, continued for the greater part of the day. Finally, as Gen. Kearney and his men were approaching the water, where they, intended to camp, and were not over five hundred yards from it, down came the Mexicans, divided into two separate commands, for the purpose of making a charge. They were at first warmly received by the Americans, who, after a time, were obliged to give way to superior numbers; but, in doing so, they retreated in good order to a hill about two hundred yards to their left. Here they halted and determined to decide the battle; but the wary Mexicans, on seeing the strength of the position taken by their foes, declined to attack them and drew off to a neighboring height, from which they commenced and maintained a deadly fire on the Americans. Captains Emery and Turner, with all the available dragoons, were sent to dislodge them. This they did in splendid style, after a sharp encounter, and when their companions saw them take possession of this position, General Kearney, with all his wounded and luggage trains, joined them there. Here a permanent resting-place, for the time being, was made. In fact, the men had no other choice, as they were now pretty effectually used up from fighting, severe loss and fatigue. The Americans found on this hill water barely sufficient for their own use, and were obliged to exclude the idea of sharing it with their animals. Although within sight of abundance of this much-needed article, yet they did not dare to drive the latter to it, for they were too weak to defend them from the assaults of the enemy. The situation of Gen. Kearney's force was now critical in the extreme; as, besides the dangers that surrounded him, the men were reduced to living on their mules. That afternoon another council of war was called, at which desperate efforts to be made for immediate relief were discussed. When every spark of hope had almost died within them, and when they were in a dilemma as to what still remained for them to do, Kit Carson was found to act as the reader has previously seen him act to parties almost similarly situated—the right man in the right place. Rising to his feet, he addressed a few simple words to those present, saying that he was willing to make the attempt of creeping through the Mexican lines. Should he succeed, he pledged his word that he could carry information to Commodore Stockton at San Diego, and thus bring them succor. No sooner had he made this proposition than he was seconded by Lieutenant Beale, then of the United States Navy, who, equally as brave and daring as Kit Carson, volunteered his services in the undertaking.

This gentleman, since the time he first turned landsman up to the present date, has been adding fresh laurels to his fame. His recent career in exploring new routes across the great western girdle of prairies and mountains is so well known through his valuable and interesting reports as not to require recapitulation at our hands. His life has been one series of rare adventures; while, to the scientific world, he has proved a valuable acquisition. To the United States Government his services are inestimable; and, as an explorer, he has but few equals.

General Kearney at once accepted the noble and generous offers of these two men, knowing that if he waited until the following day and then attempted to leave the hill, the consequences would be most disastrous; for, in so doing, a sanguinary battle must certainly ensue, with the chances greatly against him. Having made the few preparations necessary, Kit Carson and Lieutenant Beale waited the setting in of night, under the cover of which they had both resolved to succeed in the performance of their mission or die in the attempt. Having got well under way, and while stealthily crawling over the rocks and brush, they found their shoes would often, even with the greatest preventive care being taken, strike against the various impediments to their progress and make sounds which might lead to their detection. To avoid this, they took them off and pushed them under their belts. Slowly, but surely, they evaded the vigilant guard of the Mexican sentinels, who they found to be mounted and three rows deep, evidently being determined not to be eluded. So near would they often come to these Mexican sentinels, that but a few yards would measure the distance between them and their enemies; yet, with brave hearts they crept along over the ground foot by foot; they were almost safe beyond these barriers, when all their hopes came near being dashed to pieces. This alarm was caused by one of the sentinels riding up near to where they were, dismounting from his horse and lighting, by his flint and steel, his cigarretto. On seeing this, Kit Carson, who was just ahead of Lieutenant Beale, pushed back his foot and kicked softly his companion, as a signal for him to lie flat on the ground as he (Carson) was doing. The Mexican was some time, being apparently very much at his leisure, in lighting his cigarretto; and, during these moments of suspense, so quietly did Kit Carson and his companion lie on the ground, that Carson said, and still affirms, that he could distinctly hear Lieutenant Beale's heart pulsate. Who can describe the agony of mind to which these brave hearts were subjected during this severe trial. Everything—the lives of their friends as well as their own—so hung on chance, that they shuddered; not at the thought of dying, but for fear they would fail in accomplishing what was dearer to them than life, the rescue of the brave men whose lives hung on their success. After quite a long time, the Mexican, as if guided by the hand of Providence, mounted his horse and made off in a contrary direction from the one where these bold adventurers were biding their time to accept either good, if possible, or evil, if necessary, from the wheel of fortune. For a distance of about two miles, Kit Carson and Lieutenant Beale thus worked along on their hands and knees. Continually, during this time, Kit Carson's eagle eye was penetrating through the darkness, ever on the alert to discover whatever obstacle that might present itself on which was stamped the least appearance of danger. Having passed the last visible image in the shape of a sentinel and left the lines behind them at a suitable distance, both men regained their feet, and once more breathed freely. Their first thought was to look for their shoes, but, alas, they were gone. In the excitement of the journey, they had not given them a thought since depositing them beneath their belts. Hardly a word had hitherto passed between these two companions in danger, but now they spoke hurriedly and congratulated each other on the success that so far had attended them, and thanked God in their hearts that He had so mercifully aided them. There was no time for delay, as they were by no means yet free from danger, though they thought that the worst was over. Kit Carson was familiar with the country, and well knew the necessity of avoiding, for fear of being discovered, all the well trodden trails and roads which led to San Diego, every one of which was closely watched by the enemy. He chose a circuitous route, over rocks, hills and wild lands. The soil was lined with the prickly pear, the thorns of which were penetrating, at almost every step, deep into their bare feet, which, owing to the darkness and the thickness of the plants, they could not avoid. The town of San Diego was located many miles in a straight line from the point from whence they had started, but, by the round-about route they were obliged to travel, this distance was much lengthened. All the following day they continued their tramp and made as much progress as possible. Their mental excitement kept them in good spirits, though, from previous fatigue, the want of food during this time, and by the rapid pace at which they were traveling, they were putting their physical powers to their full test. Another night closed in around them, yet "ONWARD" was their watchword, for they thought not of rest while those behind them were in such imminent peril. Kit Carson's only compass was his eye, which served him so well that soon the dark outlines of the houses of San Diego could just be discerned. Both men were ready to leap with joy. They were challenged by the American sentinels about the town, and answered in pure English, "Friends," which same English was unmistakable proof to the guard from whence they came. On stating their important business, they were conducted into the presence of Commodore Stockton, to whom they related what we have tried to describe. Commodore Stockton, with his usual promptitude, immediately detailed a command of about one hundred and seventy men to make forced marches in order to reach and relieve their besieged countrymen. With as much dispatch as possible, this force set out, taking with them a piece of heavy ordnance, which, for want of animals, the men themselves were obliged to draw, by attaching ropes to it. Kit Carson did not return with them, for it was considered that he had seen service enough for the present; besides, his feet were badly swollen and inflamed from the rough usage they had recently been obliged to submit to. He graphically described the position of Gen. Kearney, so that the relief party could have no difficulty in finding him. He remained to recruit in San Diego; though, had the commodore expressed the least wish to have Kit Carson return, every man who knows him can bear witness with me that he would have been the last person to object, so long as there was life in his body. Unused then to such hardships and mental excitements on land, as was his more experienced companion, Lieutenant Beale, from the trials of the service performed, became partially deranged; and for treatment, was sent on board the frigate Congress, which ship lay in the harbor, being one of the vessels attached to the commodore's fleet. Two long years elapsed before the gallant lieutenant fully recovered from the effects of this adventure, which, for the bravery and unselfishness evinced in its planning, and the boldness with which it was carried out, without mentioning the good results it produced, was not excelled by any one feat performed during the Mexican War. Better than all, had these two men known previously the poor rewards which were afterwards to be bestowed upon them by their government for this heroic deed, I hesitate not in saying, that it would have had no effect in changing their purpose. The reinforcements sent out to meet General Kearney, by traveling both by day and night, soon reached and released him, without coming in contact with the enemy. They kept a bright look-out and were early apprised, through their spies, of what was transpiring among the Americans; hence, as the naval brigade drew near, they retreated. The road being now clear, General Kearney, with his soldiers and the marines, marched on to San Diego, where his wounded men were comfortably housed and received the attentions of skillful surgeons.