Read The Life of Kit Carson: Hunter, Trapper, Guide, Indian Agent and Colonel U.S.A. Page 37


  CHAPTER XXXVII.

  The Pursuit and Attack--Two O'clock.

  When Kit Carson and the other scouts found the main trail, they eagerlytook up the pursuit. They had not gone far when all doubt was removed:they were upon the track of a large hostile body of warriors and weregaining steadily; but so rapid was the flight of the marauders that itwas not until the sixth day that the first glimpse of the Indians wasobtained. They were encamped on a mountain peak, devoid of trees, andseemingly beyond the reach of danger; but such was the energy of theattack that they reached camp before the Indians could collect theiranimals and make off. The fight was a hot one for a few minutes duringwhich quite a number of warriors were killed and wounded.

  When night came a squad of men hid themselves near the camp, from whichthe Indians had fled, in the expectation that some of them would stealback during the darkness to learn what had been done. The dismal hourspassed until near midnight, when one of the soldiers made the call whichthe Apaches use to hail each other. The sound had hardly died out, whentwo squaws and two warriors appeared and began groping silently aroundin the gloom. The soldiers were cruel enough to fire upon the party, butin the darkness only one was killed.

  Dr. Peters states that on the morning of the day when the Apacheencampment was discovered Kit Carson, after diligently studying thetrail, rode up to Major Carleton and told him that if no accidentintervened, the Indians would be overtaken at two o'clock in theafternoon. The officer smiled and said if the Agent proved a genuineprophet, he would present him with the finest hat that could be boughtin the United States.

  The pursuit continued for hours, and, when the watches in the companyshowed that it was two o'clock, Carson triumphantly pointed to themountain peak, far in advance where the Indian encampment was in plainsight. He had hit the truth with mathematical exactness.

  Major Carleton kept his promise. To procure such a hat as he felt he hadearned, required several months; but one day the Indian Agent at Taosreceived a superb piece of head gear within which was the followinginscription:

  AT 2 O'CLOCK.

  KIT CARSON, FROM

  MAJOR CARLETON.

  Dr. Peters adds that a gentleman who was a member of the expeditionsubjected Carson some years later to a similar test, and he came withinfive minutes of naming the precise time when a band of fugitives wasovertaken.

  Having done all that was possible, Major Carleton returned with hiscommand to Taos and Carson resumed his duties as Indian Agent. Somemonths later, another expedition was organized against the Apaches butit accomplished nothing. In the latter part of the summer Carson startedon a visit to the Utahs. They were under his especial charge and he heldinterviews with them several times a year, they generally visiting himat his ranche, which they were glad to do, as they were sure of beingvery hospitably treated.

  This journey required a horseback ride of two or three hundred miles,a great portion of which was through the Apache country. These Indianswere in such a resentful mood towards the whites that they would havebeen only too glad to wrench the scalp of Father Kit from his crown; buthe knew better than to run into any of their traps. He was continuallyon the lookout, and more than once detected their wandering bands intime to give them the slip. He was equally vigilant and consequentlyequally fortunate on his return.

  Carson found when he met the Indians in council that they had goodcause for discontent. One of their leading warriors had been waylaidand murdered by a small party of Mexicans. The officials who werewith Carson promised that the murderers should be given up. It was theintention of all that justice should be done, but, as was too often thecase, it miscarried altogether. Only one of the murderers was caught andhe managed to escape and was never apprehended again.

  To make matters worse, some of the blankets which the Superintendent hadpresented the Indians a short while before, proved to be infected withsmall pox and the dreadful disease carried off many of the leadingwarriors of the tribe. More than one Apache was resolute in declaringthe proceeding premeditated on the part of the whites. The result wasthe breaking out of a most formidable Indian war. The Muache band ofUtahs, under their most distinguished chieftain, joined the Apaches inwaylaying and murdering travellers, attacking settlements and making offwith the prisoners, besides capturing hundreds and thousands of cattle,sheep, mules and horses. For a time they overran a large portion ofthe territory of New Mexico. Matters at last reached such a pass, thatunless the savages were checked, they would annihilate all the whites.

  The Governor issued a call for volunteers. The response was prompt, andfive hundred men were speedily equipped and put into the field. Theywere placed under charge of Colonel T. T. Fauntleroy, of the FirstRegiment of United States Dragoons. He engaged Kit Carson as his chiefguide.

  The campaign was pushed with all possible vigor, but for a time nothingimportant was done. The weather became intensely cold. On the secondcampaign, Colonel Fauntleroy surprised the main camp of the enemy andinflicted great slaughter. A severe blow was administered, but thereader knows that the peace which followed proved only temporary. TheApaches have been a thorn in our side for many years. General Crook hasshown great tact, bravery and rare skill in his dealings with them andprobably has brought about the most genuine peace that has been knownfor a generation.

  It would not be worth while to follow Kit Carson on his round of dutiesas Indian Agent. He had to deal with the most turbulent tribes on thecontinent, and enough has been told to prove his peerless sagacityin solving the most difficult questions brought before him. He rodethousands of miles, visiting remote points, conferred with the leadinghostiles, risked his life times without number, and was often absentfrom home for weeks and months. While it was beyond the attainment ofhuman endeavor for him to make an end of wars on the frontiers, yet heaverted many and did a degree of good which is beyond all calculation.

  "I was in the insignificant settlement of Denver, in the autumn of1860," said A. L. Worthington, "when a party of Arapahoes, Cheyennesand Comanches returned from an expedition against the tribe of mountainIndians know as the Utes. The allied forces were most beautifullywhipped and were compelled to leave the mountains in the greatest hurryfor their lives. They brought into Denver one squaw and her half dozenchildren as prisoners. The little barbarians, when the other youngsterscame too near or molested them, would fight like young wild cats. Theintention of the captors, as I learned, was to torture the squaw and herchildren to death. Before the arrangements were completed, Kit Carsonrode to the spot and dismounted. He had a brief, earnest talk withthe warriors. He did not mean to permit the cruel death that wascontemplated, but instead of demanding the surrender of the captives, heransomed 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 dutiesin which the agent was engaged. It was during the same year that Carsonreceived an injury which was the cause of his death. He was descending amountain, so steep that he led his horse by a lariat, intending, if theanimal fell, to let go of it in time to prevent being injured. The steeddid fall and though Carson threw the lariat from him, he was caught byit, dragged some distance and severely injured.

  When the late Civil War broke out and most of our troops were withdrawnfrom the mountains and plains, Carson applied to President Lincoln forpermission to raise a regiment of volunteers in New Mexico, for thepurpose of protecting our settlements there. Permission was given, theregiment raised and the famous mountaineer did good service with hissoldiers. On one occasion he took 9,000 Navajo prisoners with less than600 men.

  At the close of the war, he was ordered to Fort Garland, where heassumed command of a large region. He was Brevet Brigadier General andretained command of a battalion of New Mexico volunteers.

  Carson did not suffer immediately from his injury, but he found in timethat a grave internal disturbance had been caused by his fall. In thespring of 1868, he accompanied a party of Ute Indi
ans to Washington. Hewas then failing fast and consulted a number of leading physicians andsurgeons. 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 depressingeffect on Carson, who expired May 23, 1868.

  CHAPTER XXXVIII.

  Letter from General W. T. Sherman, and from General J. F. Rusling.

  In closing the life of Kit Carson, it will be appropriate to add twoletters, which were furnished at our request:

  912 GARRISON AVENUE, ST. LOUIS, MO., JUNE 25, 1884.

  "Kit Carson first came into public notice by Fremont's Reports of theExploration of the Great West about 1842-3. You will find mention ofKit Carson in my memoirs, vol. I, p. 46, 47, as bringing to us the firstoverland mail to California in his saddle bags. I saw but little of himafterwards till after the Civil War, when, in 1866, I was the LieutenantGeneral commanding the Military Division of the Missouri, withheadquarters in St. Louis, and made a tour of my command, including whatare now Wyoming, Colorado and New Mexico. Reaching Fort Garland, NewMexico, in September of October, 1866, I found it garrisoned by somecompanies of New Mexico Volunteers, of which Carson was Colonel orcommanding officer. I stayed with him some days, during which we had asort of council with the Ute Indians, of which the chief Ouray was theprincipal feature, and over whom Carson exercised a powerful influence.

  "Carson then had his family with him--wife and half a dozen children,boys and girls as wild and untrained as a brood of Mexican mustangs. Oneday these children ran through the room in which we were seated, halfclad and boisterous, and I inquired, 'Kit, what are you doing about yourchildren?'

  "He replied: 'That is a source of great anxiety; I myself had noeducation,' (he could not even write, his wife always signing his nameto his official reports). 'I value education as much as any man, but Ihave never had the advantage of schools, and now that I am getting oldand infirm, I fear I have not done right by my children.'

  "I explained to him that the Catholic College, at South Bend, Indiana,had, for some reason, given me a scholarship for twenty years, and thatI would divide with him--that is let him send two of his boys for fiveyears each. He seemed very grateful and said he would think of it.

  "My recollection is that his regiment was mustered out of service thatwinter, 1866-7, and that the following summer, 1867, he (Carson) went toWashington on some business for the Utes, and on his return toward NewMexico, he stopped at Fort Lyon, on the upper Arkansas, where he died.His wife died soon after at Taos, New Mexico, and the children fell tothe care of a brother in law, Mr. Boggs, who had a large ranche on thePurgation near Fort Lyon. It was reported of Carson, when notified thatdeath was impending, that he said, 'Send William, (his eldest son) toGeneral Sherman who has promised to educate him.' Accordingly, some timeabout the spring of 1868, there came to my house, in St. Louis, a stoutboy with a revolver, Life of Kit Carson by Dr. Peters, United StatesArmy, about $40 in money, and a letter from Boggs, saying that incompliance with the request of Kit Carson, on his death bed, he had sentWilliam Carson to me. Allowing him a few days of vacation with my ownchildren, I sent him to the college at South Bend, Ind., with a letterof explanation, and making myself responsible for his expenses. He wasregularly entered in one of the classes, and reported to me regularly. Ifound the 'Scholarship' amounted to what is known as 'tuition,' butfor three years I paid all his expenses of board, clothing, books, &c.,amounting to about $300 a year. At the end of that time, the Priestreported to me that Carson was a good natured boy, willing enough,but that he had no taste or appetite for learning. His letters tome confirmed this conclusion, as he could not possibly spell. Afterreflection, I concluded to send him to Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, to thecare of General Langdon C. Easton, United States Quartermaster, withinstructions to employ him in some capacity in which he could earn hisboard and clothing, and to get some officer of the garrison to teach himjust what was necessary for a Lieutenant of Cavalry. Lieutenant Beard,adjutant of the Fifth Infantry did this. He (William Carson) wasemployed, as a 'Messenger,' and, as he approached his twenty-first year,under the tuition of Lieutenant Beard, he made good progress. MeantimeI was promoted to General in Chief at Washington, and about 1870, whenCarson had become twenty-one years of age, I applied in person to thePresident, General Grant, to give the son of Kit Carson, the appointmentof Second Lieutenant Ninth United States Cavalry, telling him somewhatof the foregoing details. General Grant promptly ordered the appointmentto issue, subject to the examination as to educational qualifications,required by the law. The usual board of officers was appointed at FortLeavenworth and Carson was ordered before it. After careful examination,the board found him deficient in reading, writing and arithmetic. Ofcourse he could not be commissioned. I had given him four years ofmy guardianship, about $1,000 of my own money, and the benefit of myinfluence, all in vain. By nature, he was not adapted to 'modern uses.'I accordingly wrote him that I had exhausted my ability to provide forhim, and advised him to return to his uncle Boggs on the Purgation toassist him in his cattle and sheep ranche.

  "I heard from him by letter once or twice afterward, in one of which heasked me to procure for him the agency for the Utes. On inquiry at theproper office in Washington, I found that another person had securedthe place of which I notified him, and though of late years I have oftenbeen on the Purgation, and in the Ute country, I could learn nothing ofthe other children of Kit Carson, or of William, who for four years wasa sort of ward to me.

  "Since the building of railroads in that region, the whole character ofits population is changed, and were Kit Carson to arise from his grave,he could not find a buffalo, elk or deer, where he used to see millions.He could not even recognize the country with which he used to be sofamiliar, or find his own children, whom he loved, and for whose welfarehe felt so solicitous in his later days.

  "Kit Carson was a good type of a class of men most useful in their day,but now as antiquated as Jason of the Golden Fleece, Ulysses of Troy,the Chevalier La Salle of the Lakes, Daniel Boone of Kentucky, IrvinBridger and Jim Beckwith of the Rockies, all belonging to the dead past.

  "Yours Truly,

  "W. T. SHERMAN."

  "TRENTON, N. J., June 23, 1884.

  "In accordance with your request to give my recollections of Kit Carson,I would say that I met and spent several days with him in September,1866, at and near Fort Garland, Colorado, on the headwaters of the RioGrande. I was then Brevet Brigadier General and Inspector United StatesVolunteers, on a tour of inspection of the military depots and posts inthat region and across to the Pacific. General Sherman happened there atthe same time, on like duty as to his Military Division, and our jointtalks, as a rule, extended far into the night and over many subjects.'Kit' was then Brevet Brigadier General United States Volunteers, andin command of Fort Garland, and a wide region thereabouts--mostlyIndian--which he knew thoroughly. Fort Garland was a typical frontierpost, composed of log huts chinked with mud, rough but comfortable, andin one of these Kit then lived with his Mexican wife and several halfbreed children.

  "He was then a man apparently about fifty years of age. From what I hadread about him, I had expected to see a small, wiry man, weather-beatenand reticent; but found him to be a medium sized, rather stoutish, andquite talkative person instead. His hair was already well-silvered, buthis face full and florid. You would scarcely regard him, at first sight,as a very noticeable man, except as having a well knit frame and full,deep chest. But on observing him more closely, you were struck withthe breadth and openness of his brow, bespeaking more than ordinaryintelligence and courage; with his quick, blue eye, that caughteverything at a glance apparently--an eye beaming with kindliness andbenevolence, but that could blaze with anger when aroused; and withhis full, square jaw and chin, that evidently could shut as tight asSherman's or Grant's when necessary. With nothing of the swashbuckleror Buffalo Bill--of the border ruffian or the cowboy--about him, hismanners were as gentle, and his voice
as soft and sympathetic, as awoman's. What impressed one most about his face was its rare kindlinessand charity--that here, at last, was a natural gentleman, simple as achild but brave as a lion. He soon took our hearts by storm, and themore we saw of him the more we became impressed with his true manlinessand worth. Like everybody else on the border, he smoked freely, and atone time drank considerably; but he had quit drinking years before, andsaid he owed his excellent health and preeminence, if he had any, tohis habits of almost total abstinence. In conversation he was slow andhesitating at first, approaching almost to bashfulness, often seeminglyat a loss for words; but, as he warmed up, this disappeared, andyou soon found him talking glibly, and with his hands and fingers aswell--rapidly gesticulating--Indian fashion. He was very conscientious,and in all our talks would frequently say: 'Now, stop gentlemen! Is thisright?' 'Ought we to do this?' 'Can we do that?' 'Is this like humannature?' or words to this effect, as if it was the habit of his mindto test everything by the moral law. I think that was the predominatingfeature of his character--his perfect honesty and truthfulness--quite asmuch as his matchless coolness and courage. Said Sherman to me one daywhile there: 'His integrity is simply perfect. The red skins know it,and would trust Kit any day before they would us, or the President,either!' And Kit well returned their confidence, by being theirsteadfast, unswerving friend and ready champion.

  "He talked freely of his past life, unconscious of its extraordinarycharacter. Born in Kentucky, he said, he early took to the plains andmountains, and joined the hunters and trappers, when he was so young hecould not set a trap. When he became older, he turned trapper himself,and trapped all over our territories for beaver, otter, etc., from theMissouri to the Pacific, and from British America to Mexico. Next hepassed into Government employ, as an Indian scout and guide, and as suchpiloted Fremont and others all over the Plains and through the Rocky andSierra Nevada Mountains. Fremont, in his reports, surrounded Kit's namewith a romantic valor, but he seems to have deserved it all, and more.His good sense, his large experience, and unfaltering courage, wereinvaluable to Fremont, and it is said about the only time the Pathfinderwent seriously astray among the Mountains was when he disregarded his(Kit's) advice, and endeavored to force a passage through the Rockiesnorthwest of Fort Garland. Kit told him the mountains could not becrossed at that time of the year; and, when Fremont neverthelessinsisted on proceeding, he resigned as guide. The Pathfinder, however,went stubbornly forward, but got caught in terrible snowstorms, andpresently returned--half of his men and animals having perished outrightfrom cold and hunger. Next Kit became United States Indian Agent, andmade one of the best we ever had. Familiar with the language and customsof the Indians, he frequently spent months together among them withoutseeing a white man, and indeed became a sort of half Indian himself. Intalking with us, I noticed he frequently hesitated for the right Englishword; but when speaking bastard Spanish (Mexican) or Indian, withthe Ute Indians there, he was as fluent as a native. Both Mexican andIndian, however, are largely pantomime, abounding in perpetual grimaceand gesture, which may have helped him along somewhat. Next, when therebellion broke out, he became a Union soldier, though the border waslargely Confederate. He tendered his services to Mr. Lincoln, whoat once commissioned him Colonel, and told him to take care of thefrontier, as the regulars there had to come East to fight Jeff Davis.Kit straightway proceeded to raise the First Regiment of New MexicoVolunteers, in which he had little difficulty, as the New Mexicans knewhim well, and had the utmost confidence in him. With these, during thewar, he was busy fighting hostile Indians, and keeping others friendly,and in his famous campaign against the Navajos, in New Mexico, with onlysix hundred frontier volunteers captured some nine thousand prisoners.The Indians withdrew into a wild canyon, where no white man, it wassaid, had ever penetrated, and believed to be impregnable. But Kitpursued them from either end, and attacked them with pure Indianstrategy and tactics; and the Navajos finding themselves thussurrounded, and their supplies cut off, outwitted by a keener fighterthan themselves, surrendered at discretion. Then he did not slaughterthem, but marched them to a goodly reservation, and put them to workherding and planting, and they had continued peaceable ever since.

  "Kit seemed thoroughly familiar with Indian life and character, andit must be conceded, that no American of his time knew our aboriginesbetter--if any so well. It must be set down to their credit, that hewas their stout friend--no Boston philanthropist more so. He did nothesitate to say, that all our Indian troubles were caused originally bybad white men, if the truth were known, and was terribly severe on thebrutalities and barbarities of the border. He said the Indians were verydifferent from what they used to be, and were yearly becoming more sofrom contact with border ruffians and cowboys. He said he had lived foryears among them with only occasional visits to the settlements, andhe had never known an Indian to injure a Pale Face, where he did notdeserve it; on the other hand, he had seen an Indian kill his brothereven for insulting a white man in the old times. He insisted thatIndians never commit outrages unless they are first provoked to them bythe borderers, and that many of the peculiar and special atrocitieswith which they are charged are only their imitation of the bad actsof wicked white men. He pleaded for the Indians, as 'pore ignorantcritters, who had no learnin', and didn't know no better,' whom we weredaily robbing of their hunting grounds and homes, and solemnly asked:'What der yer 'spose our Heavenly Father, who made both them and us,thinks of these things?' He was particularly severe upon Col. Chivingtonand the Sand Creek massacre of 1864, which was still fresh in the publicmind, said he; 'jist to think of that dog Chivington, and his dirtyhounds, up thar at Sand Creek! Whoever heerd of sich doings 'mongChristians!'

  "'The pore Indians had the Stars and Stripes flying over them, our oldflag thar, and they'd bin told down to Denver, that so long as they keptthat flying they'd be safe enough. Well, then, one day along comes thatdurned Chivington and his cusses. They'd bin out several day's huntin'Hostiles, and couldn't find none nowhar, and if they had, they'd haveskedaddled from 'em, you bet! So they jist lit upon these Friendlies,and massacreed 'em--yes, sir, literally massacreed 'em--in cold blood,in spite of our flag thar--yes, women and little children, even! Why,Senator Foster told me with his own lips (and him and his Committee comeout yer from Washington, you know, and investigated this muss), thatthat thar durned miscreant and his men shot down squaws, and blew thebrains out of little innocent children--pistoled little papooses inthe arms of their dead mothers, and even worse than this!--them durneddevils! and you call sich soldiers Christians, do ye? and pore Indianssavages!'

  "'I tell you what, friends; I don't like a hostile Red Skin any morethan you do. And when they are hostile, I've fit 'em--fout 'em--andexpect to fight 'em--hard as any man. That's my business. But I neveryit drew a bead on a squaw or papoose, and I despise the man who would.'Taint nateral for men to kill women and pore little children, and nonebut a coward or a dog would do it. Of course when we white men do sichawful things, why these pore ignorant critters don't know no better thanto foller suit. Pore things! Pore things! I've seen as much of 'em asany man livin', and I can't help but pity 'em, right or wrong! Theyonce owned all this country, yes, Plains and Mountains, buffalo andeverything, but now they own next door to nuthin, and will soon begone.'

  "Alas, poor Kit! He has already 'gone to the Happy Hunting Grounds.' Butthe Indians had no truer friend, and Kit Carson would wish no prouderepitaph than this. In talking thus he would frequently get his grammarwrong, and his language was only the patois of the Border; but therewas an eloquence in his eye, and a pathos in his voice, that wouldhave touched a heart of stone, and a genuine manliness about him at alltimes, that would have won him hosts of friends anywhere. And so, KitCarson, good friend, brave heart, generous soul, hail and farewell!

  "Hoping these rough recollections may serve your purpose, I remain

  "Very respectfully,

  "Your obedient servant,

  "JAMES F. RUSLING."

  The following tri
bute to the matchless scout, hunter and guide is fromthe Salt Lake Tribune:

  He wrote his own biography and left it where the edition will nevergrow dim. The alphabet he used was made of the rivers, the plains, theforests, and the eternal heights. He started in his youth with his faceto the West; started toward where no trails had been blazed, where therewas naught to meet him but the wilderness, the wild beast, and the stillmore savage man. He made his lonely camps by the rivers, and now it isa fiction with those who sleep on the same grounds that the waters intheir flow murmur the great pathfinder's name. He followed the watercourses to their sources, and guided by them, learned where themountains bent their crests to make possible highways for the feetof men. He climbed the mountains and "disputed with the eagles of thecrags" for points of observation; he met the wild beast and subduedhim; he met the savage of the plains and of the hills, and, in his ownperson, gave him notice of his sovereignty in skill, in cunning andin courage. To the red man he was the voice of fate. In him they saw amaterialized foreboding of their destiny. To them he was a voice cryingthe coming of a race against which they could not prevail; before whichthey were to be swept away.

 
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