I 
 
 A T E I L 
 

REX SAT COOLLY AWAITING THE HEAR. 
 
WITH KIT CARSON 
 IN THE ROCKIES 
 
 A TALE OF THE BEAVER COUNTRY 
 
 BY 
 EVERETT McNEIL 
 
 AUTHOR OF "IN TEXAS WITH DAVY CROCKETT." "THE HERMIT OP THE 
 
 CULEBRA MOUNTAINS." "THE LOST TREASURE CAVB." 
 
 "THE BOY FORTY-NINERS," ETC. 
 
 NEW YORK 
 E. P. BUTTON & COMPANY 
 
 31 WEST TWENTY-THIRD STREET 
 
;: .Copyngtiti iwr : 
 
 BY E.^j'buTTON &<J3M 
 
TO ALL YOUTHS 
 
 WHO LOVE TO READ OF DARING DEEDS 
 
 DONE BRAVELY BY ADVENTUROUS MEN 
 
 THIS STORY OF THE AMERICAN TRAPPER 
 
 IS AFFECTIONATELY 
 
 DEDICATED 
 
 M18B753 
 
FOREWORD 
 
 The United States owes much to the trappers, to 
 the men who shouldered their long-barreled rifles, 
 mounted their tough little horses, slung traps and 
 packs on the backs of horses and mules, and went 
 forth fearlessly into the wilds of the then unexplored 
 wildernesses of the Great West, lured thither by the 
 gold on the backs of the beavers and the other fur- 
 bearing animals and by the call of the wild to their 
 own adventurous spirits. They were not only the 
 real finders of the way to the West, but, also, of the 
 ways through the West to the Pacific Ocean. Long 
 before the days of the explorers, like Pike and Long 
 and Fremont, even before that adventurous wilder- 
 ness journey of Lewis and Clark, the trails of the 
 trappers had crossed and recrossed the Rocky 
 Mountains and the cracks of their rifles had been 
 heard in their most hidden fastnesses. 
 
 The scientifically educated and literary explorers 
 came and saw and recorded; and then they told the 
 wonderful story of what they had seen of the West 
 to the world, and the world has given to them all the 
 honors. The trappers could not do this. They had 
 no scientific or literary attainments, and could not 
 tell the world what they had seen and done, and the 
 world has almost forgotten the great part they 
 
Foreword 
 
 played in the winning of the West from savagery to 
 civilization. 
 
 In the story, WITH KIT CARSON IN THE 
 ROCKIES, an attempt has been made not only to 
 picture vividly and truthfully the picturesque and 
 adventurous life of the trapper, but, also, to indicate 
 his proper place in the history of the West ; and it is 
 hoped that the tale will leave the boy reader with a 
 better understanding of how the shackles of the 
 savagery of the wilderness were struck off the limbs 
 of the mighty young giant of the West, and with a 
 truer appreciation of the men of the rifle and the 
 trap who were the first to strike a blow at those 
 shackles. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. THE COMING OF THE CARAVAN ........ i 
 
 II. IN CAPTAIN YOUNG'S PRIVATE OFFICE n 
 
 III. POM 23 
 
 IV. OFF FOR THE MOUNTAINS 35 
 
 V. AN ADVENTURE WITH A GRIZZLY 44 
 
 VI. A LONELY GRAVE 56 
 
 VII. THE GREAT BUFFALO HUNT 73 
 
 VIII. THE STAMPEDE 101 
 
 IX. IN THE BEAVER COUNTRY 113 
 
 X. THE MOUNTAIN LION 131 
 
 XI. TRAPPED 146 
 
 XII. THE FORT BY THE BIG ROCKS 161 
 
 XIII. THE FIGHT IN THE VALLEY 171 
 
 XIV. WINTER QUARTERS 203 
 
 XV. FILLING THE LARDER 219 
 
 XVI. ROUND THE CAMP-FIRE 226 
 
 XVII. BUSTER'S GREAT FIGHT 244 
 
 XVIII. THE BIG BULLY OF THE MOUNTAINS 259 
 
 XIX. THE KILLING OF THE BUCK ELK 278 
 
 XX. THE AMBUSCADE 302 
 
 XXI. THE DEVIL'S MOUTH 312 
 
 XXII. THE MYSTERY OF THE PAPERS . . . .. M ... . . 322 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 REX SAT COOLLY AWAITING THE BEAK .... Frontispiece 52 
 
 DILL HURLED HIMSELF AT THE MAN'S LEGS 29 
 
 REX HAD EYES ONLY FOR THE INDIAN 81 
 
 HALF-A-DOZEN INDIANS REELED IN THEIR SADDLES 180 
 
 CAPTAIN SHUNAN, THIS HAS GOT TO STOP 273 
 
With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE COMING OF THE CARAVAN 
 
 "T OS Americanos!" "Los carros!" "La en- 
 
 *-* trada de la caravana!" 
 
 With this cry, first uttered shrilly and excitedly 
 by a single distant voice and almost instantly echoed 
 and re-echoed by a hundred joyously excited men, 
 women and children, the quaint little old-world 
 town of Santa Fe awoke suddenly and noisily from 
 its afternoon siesta and hurried forth to welcome 
 the long line of dust-covered, weather-stained 
 wagons, toiling mules and oxen, and tall gaunt sun- 
 burnt men, that now might be seen slowly descend- 
 ing the hills to the eastward of the town. There 
 were ninety-eight huge canvas-topped wagons in 
 this caravan; and no wonder the sight of their 
 coming woke the drowsy old town into sudden and 
 joyous life for, what bright colored calicoes and 
 cottons and rich velvets and silks and laces 
 and sparkling jewels and costly wearing apparel and 
 rich housings and wondrous toys and trinkets might 
 
 I 
 
2 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 not these great wagons hold for the dark-eyed se- 
 noritas, the display-loving dons, and the eager chil- 
 dren! Not for a long twelvemonth had so large a 
 caravan as this entered Santa Fe ; and, when at last, 
 with a great cracking of whips, shoutings of men 
 and creaking of wheels the heavy wagons rolled 
 through the streets of the town and halted in the 
 plaza publica, it seemed as if all the men, women and 
 children in Santa Fe were there to give them joyous 
 welcome, crowding curiously around those heavily- 
 laden wagons and watching almost in awe those tall 
 rugged Americanos, as they quickly unyoked oxen 
 and unhitched mules and prepared to go into camp 
 their long journey ended. 
 
 And the Americanos ? Never was sight of safe 
 harbor to storm-tossed sailors more welcomed than 
 were the gleaming towers and flat roofs and white- 
 washed walls of Santa Fe to the eyes of these stal- 
 wart travelers of the lonesome plains. For weary 
 weeks had that long line of wagons crawled its slow 
 way, like some huge white snake, from Independ- 
 ence on the Missouri River, across hundreds of 
 miles of dreary plains and deserts, through bridge- 
 less rivers and up and down rocky hills, ever beset 
 by bands of Indians thirsting for their treasures and 
 their blood and wanting only the opportunity to 
 take both; and all, from the Captain of the Cara- 
 van down to the meanest wagoner, were boisterous 
 with gladness, when the last wagon came to a halt 
 in the public plaza of Santa Fe and the long days 
 
The Coming of the Caravan 3 
 
 of weary traveling and nights of anxious watching 
 were ended. 
 
 "I swun, I never thought I'd be as glad to see th' 
 face of a Mexie as I be right now," declared one of 
 the tall wagoners, as his eyes glanced around the 
 crowding circle of Mexicans. "An' them houses, 
 even if they be sawed off at th' top with walls of 
 mud jest whitewashed, look good jest like a picter 
 from our old bible," and his eyes rested wonder- 
 ingly on the quaint old flat-roofed adobe structures 
 that surrounded the plaza. "But, 'tain't no time 
 for meditatin' an' lookin'. I'm too powerful anx- 
 ious to get out of sight of these here wagons for a 
 spell an' inside of one of them adobe structures an' 
 outside of some of th' Mexies' cookin' to do any loit- 
 erin'. Come, yunks, get some quick jumps into 
 them long legs of yourn, or we'll be th' last to get 
 out of here," and he turned to two boys, who stood 
 close together near the wagon, their eyes drinking 
 in the animated scene around them. 
 
 There were six yokes of huge oxen hitched to the 
 great wagon, and these had to be unyoked and hob- 
 bled before Hammer Jones, as the big wagoner was 
 called, would be at liberty to "get outside of some 
 of th' Mexies' cookin'," as he put it, a feat that, as 
 has been already indicated, he was exceedingly anx- 
 ious to accomplish. 
 
 The two "yunks" they were both nearly men in 
 size at the words of the wagoner, jumped to the 
 heads of the oxen and began unyoking the tired 
 
4 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 beasts with swift practiced hands. They were even 
 more anxious than was Hammer Jones himself to 
 get the work done, so that they would be free, not 
 to "get outside of some of th' Mexies' cookin'," but 
 to learn if the man they had come so far to find was 
 in Santa Fe. 
 
 In ten minutes, so swiftly did the man and the 
 two boys work, the oxen were unyoked and hobbled 
 and driven to where the animals were being cor- 
 ralled under guard of the herders ; and our friends 
 were free. 
 
 "Now," and Hammer Jones Ham, his friends 
 called him and hereafter we will assume the priv- 
 ilege of a friend and call him Ham looked with 
 kindly interest into the faces of the two boys who 
 had been his helpers and mess-companions for so 
 many days, "here we be at last in Santa Fe; an' 
 seein' that you are some young an' uncustomed to 
 th' ways of th' Mexies, an' that you've been mighty 
 willin' help all 'long from Independence, I reckon 
 'twon't be more'n friendly if I asks you to sample 
 some of th' Mexies' cookin' 'long with me, an' then 
 give you a swing round th' town, jest to get you 
 some 'customed to th' Mexies' ways an' smells, afore 
 you goes wanderin' round by yourselves." 
 
 "We are much obliged to you, Ham," answered 
 the younger of the two boys; "but Rex and I are 
 not hungry," and he glanced at his companion, who 
 nodded, "and we are mighty anxious to get to the 
 trading-post of Captain Young and give him our 
 
The Coming of the Caravan 5 
 
 message. Father said we must go to him just as 
 soon as we reached Santa Fe. But," he added 
 quickly, as he noticed the look of disappointment on 
 the countenance of his big friend, "we will both be 
 very glad to have you go with us to Captain 
 Young's. We are not used to such such " and 
 the boy hesitated and glanced uneasily around at the 
 gesticulating, excited, dark-skinned men and women 
 and bright-eyed children thronging about the 
 wagons. 
 
 "Sech a mongrel-lookin' lot of humans," broke in 
 Ham laughing. "You see Ingines an' Mexies mix 
 as easy as flour an' water, 'till th' Lord only knows 
 which from 'tother. I'm powerful sorry you're not 
 carin' to eat right now; but, I reckon you're right 
 'bout goin' to Young's first. Sartain, I'll go with 
 you, bein' that I want to see Captain Young my- 
 self ; an' I reckon, 'twon't be none difficult to find th' 
 place, seein' there's his sign manual over yonder," 
 and he pointed over the heads of the motley crowd 
 across the plaza to a large sign, hanging in front of 
 a huge one-story adobe building. "Now, we'll jest 
 let Captain Tom know where we're goin'," and, ac- 
 companied by the two boys, he hurried to where 
 the Captain of the Caravan sat on his horse super- 
 intending the camping of the large caravan. 
 
 Captain Tom Roberts was a tall, lean, huge-boned 
 man, "just skin and muscles and bones and grit," 
 his friends said, who had spent three-quarters of the 
 fifty years of his life on the great plains and in the 
 
6 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 mountains west of the Missouri, hunting, trapping 
 and Indian fighting. Like the majority of men of 
 his type he was not much given to talking. The 
 silence of the great plains and the stillness and the 
 grandeur of the mighty mountains had impressed 
 themselves deeply on his character. He had 
 learned that the great things of God are never noisy. 
 But, when he did speak, his words went straight to 
 the mark, like well-aimed rifle bullets. He paused 
 long enough to listen to Hammer Jones, gave him 
 a quick affirmative, and then, with a nod and a smile 
 to the two boys, galloped swiftly off to where one of 
 the wagoners was having trouble with his mules. 
 
 "Now keep close ahind me and we'll go through 
 these Mexies like a gang-plow through a medder/' 
 and Hammer Jones squared his broad shoulders and 
 started straight for the trading-post, regardless of 
 the crowd of Mexicans who stood in his way. 
 
 The Mexicans, smiling, laughing, gesticulating 
 and talking, parted promptly before the huge bulk 
 of Hammer Jones, as he, closely followed by the 
 two boys, passed through their midst and came out 
 in front of Young's trading-post. 
 
 Around the door of the trading-post lounged a 
 dozen or more men, armed with long-barreled rifles 
 and dressed almost completely in deerskin, with 
 fur caps on their heads, the tail of the coon or of 
 whatever animal the cap was made from usually 
 hanging down behind. They were strong, virile, 
 fearless-looking men, with an air of independence 
 
The Coming of the Caravan 7 
 
 and freedom in striking contrast to the voluble ser- 
 vility of the average Mexican. The two boys eyed 
 these men with eager interest. 
 
 "A company of trappers must have jest come in, 
 or Young's makin' up a party to go out," commented 
 Hammer Jones the moment he saw the men in deer- 
 skin. "No, he ain't there," he added, after a mo- 
 ment's swift scrutiny of the faces of the men, in 
 answer to the look of eager inquiry on the counte- 
 nances the two boys turned to him ; "but maybe he's 
 inside. Leastwise I reckon Young will come as 
 near knowin' where he is as any man hereabouts 
 can," and he led the way into the building. 
 
 A number of trappers, a half dozen Indians and 
 two or three Mexicans were trading or lounging in 
 the store, while three clerks were busy waiting on 
 them. In the back part of the room, talking with 
 one of the trappers, stood a large man, whose 
 bronzed face spoke of the scorching sun of the plains 
 and the winds and the storms and the cold of the 
 mountains. 
 
 The moment this man saw the face of Hammer 
 Jones he excused himself to the trapper, and, hurry- 
 ing to him, gripped him warmly by the hand. 
 
 "Glad to see you, Ham, mighty glad to see you!" 
 he cried, shaking the hand vigorously. "Come in 
 with Captain Tom's caravan, didn't you ? And the 
 boys ?" and he turned an inquiring face to the two 
 lads. 
 
 "Come 'long with us," replied Ham. "They're 
 
8 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 from New O'leans, on a special mission, an' have a 
 message for you Captain Young, my two friends, 
 Rex Holt and Dill Conroyal," and he nodded first to 
 the elder of the two boys and then to the other. 
 "Two as plucky lads as ever came out of a city, 
 an' th' best bull-whackers for their age this side of 
 th' Big Muddy. Now, here's your Captain Young, 
 lads," and the eyes Ham turned to the two boys 
 were glowing with friendliness. 
 
 "I'm powerful glad to know you," and Captain 
 Young gripped the hand of each boy and shook it 
 warmly. "From New Orleans, and bearing a mes- 
 sage for me?" and the keen eyes looked inquiringly 
 into the faces of the two lads. 
 
 "Yes," Dill answered, thrusting one hand into the 
 bosom of his buckskin jacket and bringing out a 
 sealed packet wrapped in oiled paper, "I have a letter 
 to you from father. He said you would remember 
 him. He once trapped and hunted with you. Noel 
 H. Conroyal is his name, but you used to call him 
 Con. Here's the letter," and he offered the sealed 
 packet to Captain Young. 
 
 "Remember Con ! Con Conroyal ! Great Buf- 
 falos, I should say I did! And this is his boy, 
 Con's boy! I must have another shake!" and he 
 again caught hold of Dill's hand and shook it until 
 the lad thought he would loosen his arm from his 
 shoulder. "Why, I've hunted and trapped and 
 fought Indians with your dad from the Missouri 
 to the Sacramento Valley, and I'd never ask for a 
 
The Coming of the Caravan 9 
 
 better comrade. Did he ever tell you about the big 
 fight we had with the grizzly on the Yellowstone ? 
 No Just like Con. But, see here!" and the big 
 fellow threw open the bosom of his woolen shirt until 
 he exposed his great hairy chest and right shoulder. 
 "That's where the grizzly had me when Con rushed 
 in and knifed the brute," and he pointed to a great 
 scar that nearly covered his right shoulder and 
 chest. "Them's his claw and teeth marks; and if it 
 hadn't been for Con " His pause was expres- 
 sive "But Con was there! And he killed the 
 brute, killed him with his knife. The only man I 
 ever knowed to kill a grizzly with a knife. Jumped 
 right on top of his back while the beast was chawing 
 me, and clung there where the brute could not get 
 at him, until he had jabbed his knife clean through 
 his heart. Oh, but that was a great fight!" and 
 his eyes sparkled. "And your dad never told you 
 a word about it! Just like Con! I'd give a 
 mighty lot to have his good right hand in mine 
 right now The letter," he ended abruptly, as 
 if he were just a bit ashamed of the display he 
 had been making of his feelings; and, taking the 
 sealed packet from Dill's hand, he opened it and 
 read the enclosed letter slowly. For a moment after 
 having finished reading the letter, Captain Young 
 stood silent, his eyes studying the faces of the two 
 boys, while his own countenance grew sober and 
 thoughtful; then, excusing himself to Ham, he 
 turned to Rex and Dill. 
 
io With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 "Come with me to my office, boys," he said. "I 
 want to talk over this letter with you alone," and he 
 led the way to a door in the back part of the store, 
 which opened into his private office. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 IN CAPTAIN YOUNG'S PRIVATE OFFICE 
 
 THE private office of Captain Young was a 
 large room, considerably longer than it was 
 wide, with one end completely filled, from floor to 
 ceiling, with tightly packed bales of the valuable fur 
 of the beaver and the skins of other animals taken in 
 trade. The remainder of the room was the office, 
 where a rude attempt had been made to secure com- 
 fort and adornment by covering the floor with the 
 skins of bears and buffalos and hanging on the 
 walls trophies of the wild life Captain Young had 
 lived on the plains and in the mountains. In one 
 corner of the room hung the complete dress and 
 equipment of a once famous Indian chief, slain by 
 the hand of Captain Young himself in one of his nu- 
 merous encounters with the Blackfeet warriors, 
 while brightly-decorated blankets, bows and arrows, 
 spears, head-dresses of chiefs, deer horns, beaded 
 moccasins, rifles, etc., hanging in a picturesque con- 
 fusion very pleasing to the eye, nearly hid the rough 
 walls. Three or four rudely fashioned chairs, a 
 large table, a huge iron-bound chest, and a small 
 writing desk completed the furnishings of the room. 
 "Be seated, boys," Captain Young said, when the 
 
 II 
 
12 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 three were in this room, as he closed the door and 
 sat down in a large chair near the table. 
 
 Rex and Dill promptly occupied two of the chairs, 
 and then looked around the curiously-furnished 
 room with eager interest. Directly under Dill's 
 chair, with his feet resting within six inches of the 
 head, which the art of the taxidermist had preserved 
 in all its savage ferocity, was the skin of a monster 
 grizzly bear, the long white teeth and red tongue in 
 the wide-opened jaws and the glowing eyes still de- 
 fying and threatening. The eyes of both lads al- 
 most instantly focused themselves on this head, fas- 
 cinated by its look of ferocious power. 
 
 "I do not wonder the head of that grizzly fasci- 
 nates you/' Captain Young said, as both boys al- 
 most simultaneously turned inquiring eyes to his 
 face; "for that was the monster that came near 
 killing me the bear your father killed with his 
 knife," and he nodded to Dill, "the largest grizzly I 
 ever saw But, now, let us get down to business," 
 and he opened Mr. Conroyal's letter and spread it 
 out on the table in front of him. For a minute or 
 two he studied the letter, then he turned to Rex and 
 Dill. 
 
 "Do you boys understand what this letter means 
 to you ?" he asked. 
 
 "We have not read father's letter," Dill replied; 
 "but, of course, we know why we are here, if that 
 is what you mean." 
 
 "No, that is not what I mean," Captain Young 
 
In Captain Young's Private Office 13 
 
 responded. "I supposed that you knew why you 
 were here, but I wondered if you knew what you 
 were expected to do now that you are here." 
 
 "Yes," and Dill's face lighted, "we know that. 
 We are to find Kit Carson, and give him father's 
 message, and then we are to go with him to the mis- 
 sion in California, and get the papers Uncle Manuel, 
 mother's brother, left there, and return with them to 
 New Orleans. Father said that if Kit Carson was 
 not here, you would know where he was and how to 
 find him, and would tell us what to do." 
 
 "Find Kit Carson go to the California Mis- 
 sion get the papers return home with them! 
 Sounds easy, doesn't it, boys ?" and Captain Young 
 laughed. "It took you less than a minute to say 
 that ; but I shouldn't be surprised if it took you more 
 than a year to go through that program. Find 
 Kit Carson! Why, the good Lord alone knows 
 where Kit is now, except that he is somewhere in the 
 Rockies ; and the Rocky Mountains are a mighty big 
 proposition for two boys to tackle." 
 
 "But we must find him," broke in Rex. "It 
 makes no difference where he is, we must find him. 
 We must secure those papers and bring them home 
 with us ; and Uncle Noel says Kit Carson is the only 
 man that can do this, so we must find him and give 
 him Uncle Noel's message, no matter if he is in the 
 Rocky Mountains. Uncle Noel said you would help 
 
 us." 
 
 "And so I will, my boy," Captain Young 
 
14 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 responded with hearty promptness. "But I reckon 
 Con calculated on your finding Kit here or at Taos. 
 Don't seem possible that he expected you two boys 
 to start out and hunt him up in the Rocky Moun- 
 tains, knowing what that would mean as well as Con 
 does." 
 
 "Yes, father hoped and believed we would find 
 Kit Carson here; but/' and Dill's firm lips tightened, 
 "he told us if we did not find him here that we must 
 go where he was, that we must hunt for him until 
 we found him, that if he were in the mountains 
 hunting and trapping we must go there. He said 
 that you would outfit us and get the right kind of 
 men to go with us, for old comrades' sake, and 
 that you f were to spare no expense. Father, you 
 know, is wealthy now; and and we must have 
 those papers, no matter how much it costs, no mat- 
 ter what dangers, what difficulties are in the way; 
 and to get them we need Kit Carson's help. Father 
 said that he had made this all clear to you in his 
 letter; and had made you his legal representative 
 here, with authority to do whatever was necessary 
 and to spend whatever was needed to make our ef- 
 forts a success. Father would have come himself; 
 but he could not. He he broke his leg; and Rex 
 and I had to come. There was no one else that he 
 could send, no one that he dared trust on such a mis- 
 sion," and Dill straightened up just a bit proudly in 
 his chair. "And and we are not as young as we 
 look. Rex is past sixteen and I am nearly fifteen 
 
In Captain Young's Private Office 15 
 
 years old; and we are both used to hunting and 
 camping and roughing it out of doors. You will do 
 what you can to help us, won't you Captain Young?" 
 and the eyes Dill turned to Captain Young were full 
 of appeal. 
 
 For a couple of minutes Captain Young sat si- 
 lent, his eyes studying the faces of the two boys. 
 Doubtless he was picturing all that they would be 
 called upon to brave and endure, should they go into 
 the mountains in search of Kit Carson, and wonder- 
 ing if they had the pluck and the courage needed 
 to make such a venture a success. Evidently his 
 scrutiny of the two faces was satisfactory, for, sud- 
 denly, he straightened up in his chair, a look on his 
 face that seemed to say "I see my way clear now," 
 and turning to a large leather bound book on the 
 table began turning over its pages quickly. In a 
 moment he came to the right page, bent over it for 
 an instant, and then, straightening up, turned again 
 to the boys. 
 
 "I thought I was right," he said. "The trap- 
 pers' rendezvous next summer will be at the mouth 
 of Horse Creek on the Green River. Kit Carson, 
 if he is alive, will be sure to be there. That will 
 be the place for you to go to find him. A party 
 of trappers came in a couple of weeks ago and are 
 already anxious to be out in the wilds again. I will 
 send them to the Green River region to trap until 
 it is time to go to the rendezvous, and you boys shall 
 go with them. You see, from about the middle of 
 
1 6 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 June to the middle of September, the beaver and 
 all fur-bearing animals are shedding their hair, 
 which makes their skins worthless, and during this 
 time all trapping is stopped and the different bands 
 of trappers gather at some previously appointed 
 place of rendezvous, where they meet the traders 
 and exchange their pelts for needed supplies and 
 have a general good time together, sometimes last- 
 ing for a month or two a sort of trappers' fair; 
 and Kit will be sure to be there. Let me see, it is 
 now the fifteenth of August. This will give you time 
 to reach the mountains and have a month or more 
 trapping before the winter sets in. Then, when 
 the snow gets too deep for trapping, you can 
 go into winter quarters and be ready for the spring 
 season, trapping along in the direction of Green 
 River until it is time to start for the rendezvous. 
 Seems like a mighty slow way of finding Kit Car- 
 son, don't it, boys ? But it is the quickest and surest 
 way I know. Of course you might run on to him 
 while trapping in the mountains; but there ain't 
 one chance out of ten thousand of your doing so. 
 Now, I'll get right to work. You boys will stay 
 with me until the trappers are ready to start, which 
 will be next Monday morning at sunup," and Cap- 
 tain Young he was a man who made quick and 
 positive decisions and then saw that they were at 
 once put into force almost jumped out of his chair, 
 in his hurry to see the trappers and to get the 
 
In Captain Young's Private Office 17 
 
 expedition under way, and rushed out of the room, 
 calling to the boys to follow him. 
 
 Rex and Dill had been greatly disappointed when 
 they found that Kit Carson was not in Santa Fe; 
 and now, when they learned that he was thousands 
 of miles away, hidden somewhere in one of the in- 
 numerable recesses of the Rocky Mountains, and 
 that they would have to wait nearly a year for even 
 a chance to see him, this disappointment became so 
 keen as to be almost unbearable. 
 
 "I I did not suppose it would take so long to 
 find Kit Carson," Rex complained, as he and Dill 
 hurried after Captain Young. "I thought, even if 
 he was out trapping, that Captain Young would 
 know in what part of the country he was, so that we 
 could go at once to that place and find him. I don't 
 see how we can wait for nearly a year before doing 
 anything to get those papers. They might be taken 
 away from the Mission before then, to some place 
 where we could not find them, even to Mexico and 
 we must get them, we must get them," he repeated, 
 as a look of dogged determination came into his 
 young face. "I do not think Captain Young under- 
 stands how great is our need to hurry. I am going 
 to tell him how necessary it is for us to find Kit Car- 
 son before winter, and see if he cannot think of some 
 way of doing it There, he has stopped to talk with 
 one of the trappers! Now is the time for me to 
 tell him," and Rex, who with Dill close by his side 
 
i8 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 had been trying to overtake the hurrying Captain, 
 hastened to where he had stopped to speak to the 
 trapper with whom he had been talking when the 
 boys entered the store. 
 
 "Captain Young/' began Rex, "we can't wait 
 nearly a year to find Kit Carson. We must try to 
 find him before winter. You don't know how much 
 depends on our finding him. Can't you learn in 
 what part of the country he is trapping, so that we 
 can go directly there ? We " 
 
 "My boy," and Captain Young laid a quick hand 
 on Rex's shoulder, "I do understand your great 
 need of haste I have read your Uncle Noel's letter ; 
 but you do not seem to understand the vastness of 
 the country into which Kit Carson has gone, nor 
 the fact that it has now been two years since Kit was 
 here and over a year since I have heard a word from 
 him or of him. I do not know, no one here knows, 
 where he is, except, if he is still alive, that he is 
 somewhere between the Missouri River and the 
 Pacific Ocean. It would be useless to try to go 
 where he is trapping, because no one knows within 
 a thousand miles where that is. The trapper goes 
 until he finds beaver. It may be a hundred miles, 
 it may be a thousand, it matters not to him, only 
 so that in the end he finds the beaver. But, once 
 a year, all must gather at the rendezvous, to get 
 fresh supplies of powder and lead and the other 
 things their wild life needs, in exchange for their 
 furs; and there you will find Kit Carson. I know 
 
In Captain Young's Private Office 19 
 
 your need of haste, and I wish I knew a quicker 
 way of finding Kit; but I do not. So, as all have 
 to do out here on the frontier, you must make the 
 best of the situation and I am sure you will/' he 
 added quickly, his face lighting up with a smile. 
 "Now I must leave you for a while. I have much 
 to do in order to get you started Monday. Make 
 yourselves right at home here. I'll be back in an 
 hour or so," and, accompanied by the trapper, Cap- 
 tain Young hurried out into the street before either 
 boy had time to utter a word in reply. 
 
 "Well," and Rex turned a gloomy face to Dill the 
 moment the door closed behind the trader and his 
 companion, "of course Captain Young is right ; and 
 we've just got to make the best of things as they 
 are; and if it wasn't for those papers I wouldn't 
 care, for it will be a great experience, this trip with 
 a lot of trappers into the wilds of the Rocky Moun- 
 tains where there are wild Indians and bears and 
 deer and other animals to hunt and trap," and his 
 face brightened. "I've always wanted to be a trap- 
 per, and live wild in the mountains and on the great 
 plains ; and now I am going to have a chance to see 
 what the life is like." 
 
 "So have I," Dill admitted, his own face lighting 
 up. "Ever since I can remember I have wanted to 
 be a trapper, like father was, and see the wonderful 
 scenes that he has so often told me about, and live 
 the wild free life of the great plains and mountains ; 
 and maybe fight Indians and kill grizzly bears and 
 
2O With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 buffalo and deer and trap and hunt. I think trap- 
 ping must be the most exciting and interesting life 
 there is to live on this earth ; and then father says 
 it makes a man brave and independent and hardy, 
 because he has to depend entirely on himself to 
 take care of himself and is outdoors all the time 
 where the air is pure and there is plenty of room 
 to breathe. Yes, it will be a great experience! 
 But," and his face sobered, "I wish we could find 
 Kit Carson and get those papers first. Still I don't 
 see how anything can happen to them. We know 
 that Uncle Manuel left them at the mission, in care 
 of one of the brothers, who was to keep them until 
 he, or someone having authority from him, called 
 for them. There is some mystery about those pa- 
 pers that I do not understand, something that fa- 
 ther is afraid somebody else will discover ; and that 
 is why I suppose he made us promise to tell no one 
 but Kit Carson and Captain Young why we were 
 here. Probably the letter father gave us, which 
 we were not to read until we had secured the pa- 
 pers, will tell us all about this. Anyway we must be 
 very careful to keep our promises, because it would 
 not do for us to miss getting the papers through 
 any fault of our own." 
 
 "Yes," agreed Rex, "I suppose the papers will be 
 safe enough, if nothing happens to the brother your 
 uncle left them with. But I do not like this long 
 wait. Something might happen; and then we do 
 not know what misfortune it might bring upon 
 
In Captain Young's Private Office 21 
 
 Uncle Noel. He seemed dreadfully anxious for us 
 to get the papers just as soon as possible. They 
 must be very important to him, or he would not 
 have sent us half-way across a continent, through 
 thousands of miles of wilderness, to get them. Too 
 bad your Uncle Manuel died so suddenly, before 
 he had time to tell you all of his story; but he must 
 have told your father more than we know. I 
 wished I knew what was in that letter he gave us. 
 I wonder why he forbade us to read it until we se- 
 cured the papers. Have you any idea, Dill?" 
 
 "No," Dill answered, "only I think it is some- 
 thing father did not wish us to know at all, unless 
 we got the papers." 
 
 "Well," Rex meditated, "it's a curious business 
 anyway ; and I wish we did not have to wait so long 
 before solving it. But now, as Captain Young 
 says, the only thing for us to do is to make the most 
 of things as they are, and to get ourselves at once 
 in the best possible shape to go with the trappers. 
 Monday is only three days off, and there is a lot 
 that I want to do before then. Let's go to the 
 wagon and get our things and bring them here. 
 You know Captain Young said that we were to 
 stay with him." 
 
 Dill promptly agreed to this, and the two boys 
 at once started for the wagons, which had been 
 gathered in a compact group near the center of 
 the plaza publica. The wagons were still sur- 
 rounded by a curious but good-natured crowd of 
 
22 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 Mexicans that promptly made way for the two boys ; 
 and they reached their wagon, secured their per- 
 sonal belongings and returned to the store of Cap- 
 tain Young without trouble, though considerably 
 delayed by the interest they had taken in watching 
 the lively and novel street scenes of quaint old 
 Santa Fe, so different from the sights they were 
 accustomed to seeing on the streets of New Or- 
 leans. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 POM 
 
 THEY found Captain Young in his office, in close 
 consultation with Tom Roberts, Captain of the 
 Caravan. The moment the boys entered the room, 
 Captain Young turned a smiling face to them. 
 
 "I have good news for you boys," he said. "Cap- 
 tain Tom has agreed to head your party of trap- 
 pers ; and if anyone can find Kit Carson before win- 
 ter, Captain Tom can. But," he added quickly as 
 he noticed the look of delight that came into the 
 faces of both lads, "don't count overmuch even on 
 Captain Tom finding him before the rendezvous. 
 There ain't one chance out of a hundred of his do- 
 ing it; but he can do it, if anybody can. That's 
 about it, ain't it Tom?" and he turned inquiringly 
 to his companion. 
 
 "There's 'bout as much chance of finding Kit in 
 the mountains as there would be of finding a tree- 
 toad in a medder," Captain Tom answered. "But 
 we're sartain to overhaul him at the rendezvous. 
 Let me see them guns of yourn," and his eyes rested 
 on the two rifles carried by the boys. 
 
 Rex and Dill each promptly handed him his gun. 
 The rifles were both the latest make and the best 
 
 23 
 
24 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 quality. Captain Tom examined the weapons care- 
 fully, handling them almost caressingly. 
 
 "They are mighty good looking and feeling 
 guns," he said, throwing each to his shoulder in 
 turn and sighting quickly along its barrel, "but a 
 little light for grizzly bear and Indian shooting. 
 Now that is my style of a gun/' and his eyes turned 
 fondly to the corner of the room where stood his 
 heavy long-barreled Remington, big and hard and 
 powerful looking like its owner. "That's the kind 
 of a gun for grizzly bear and Indian shooting; but 
 I reckon 'twould be too heavy for a boy to tote 
 around. Now let's see the rest of your outfits;" 
 and one by one the critical eyes of the experienced 
 old trapper carefully examined the articles in the 
 boys' outfits, laying each down in one of two piles, 
 when he had done so. 
 
 "You won't need them," he said, pointing to one 
 of the piles, as soon as his examination was over. 
 "Leave them with Captain Young. Now," and he 
 turned to the trader, "you see to the outfitting, and 
 I'll get the trappers together and have a talk with 
 them. I have a lot to do before Monday, and must 
 be doing it," and he hastened from the room, leav- 
 ing two rather crestfallen boys ruefully regarding 
 the discarded pile of things that Captain Tom had 
 so unceremoniously indicated was not to be taken 
 with them. 
 
 "Tom is right," and Captain Young smiled. 
 "You'll not need them things. A trapper always 
 
Pom 25 
 
 goes in light marching order, discarding every 
 ounce of unnecessary weight. I'll see that you have 
 everything that you need. Now camp right in this 
 room. You can make your bed on that pile of bear 
 skins/' and he pointed to a pile of grizzly bear skins 
 in one corner of the room ; "and go to bed whenever 
 you get ready. I won't be in 'til late, so don't wait 
 for me," and the door closed behind the trader. 
 
 Rex and Dill remained for a few minutes in the 
 office, talking and stowing away their outfits, then 
 they went out into the store and watched the busy 
 clerks and the trappers and the Indians and the 
 Mexicans who gathered there for purposes of trade 
 or "talk," and finally they passed out into the 
 crowded streets. 
 
 By this time the shadows of night had begun to 
 settle down in the dark places of the streets, and 
 the candles in the houses were being lit. Already 
 a cool breeze had begun to temper the heat of the 
 day ; and Rex and Dill found the greater part of the 
 population of Santa Fe out in the open air, enjoying 
 the cool evening. The plaza publica was crowded ; 
 and men, women and children swarmed around the 
 wagons of the Americanos like bees around a hive. 
 The lights of the various resorts, where vile liquors, 
 gambling and their attendant evils held their vota- 
 ries, shone redly out into the dark street, while 
 through their wide-opened doors and windows came 
 the sounds of tinkling banjos and other musical in- 
 struments, the clatter of many dancing feet and the 
 
26 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 laughter of men and women. Santa Fe was mak- 
 ing merry over the coming of the Americanos and 
 the caravan. 
 
 For a minute or two Rex and Dill paused just 
 outside of the store, to get their bearings and to 
 watch the animated and novel scene before them. 
 
 "Let's walk around the plaza and take in the 
 sights," Dill suggested, as his eyes roamed over the 
 varied scenes of the plaza publica. 
 
 Rex promptly agreeing, they started, pausing of- 
 ten to look at the many things that awakened their 
 curiosity and interest. 
 
 Suddenly both boys were startled by the sharp, 
 crack crack, of a pistol and the sounds of a wild 
 commotion coming from a dance hall only a few 
 feet ahead of them. Then, before either lad fairly 
 knew what was happening, out through the wide- 
 opened door of the dance hall shot a great black 
 ball that rolled and bounded until with a mad yell 
 it struck the ground directly in front of their feet 
 and the astounded boys were looking down into the 
 terror-stricken face of a negro boy, whose rolling 
 eyes and up-lifted hands were raised appealingly to 
 them. 
 
 "Sabe me! Sabe dis niggah !" he cried, the black 
 hands clutching frantically the trouser-legs of both 
 lads. "O, Lo'd ! don't let him done cotch me !" and 
 the rolling eyes turned a frightened glance back- 
 ward just as a huge red-whiskered man, his face 
 
Pom 27 
 
 inflamed with whiskey and passion, a huge knife 
 in one hand, rushed out of the dance hall, followed 
 by a motley crowd of Mexicans and Americans. 
 "He's done gwine to skin me alive !" and the negro 
 clung, in a frenzy of fear, tightly to the legs of the 
 boys. 
 
 At this moment the bully caught sight of the ne- 
 gro boy groveling at the feet of Rex and Dill. 
 
 "Hi, you black imp of th' devil!" he shouted, 
 "now I'll have that hide of yourn," and he sprang 
 toward the spot where the negro lay. 
 
 Possibly he had no thought of really harming the 
 negro lad, possibly he intended only to frighten 
 him; but those were wild, lawless days when wild, 
 lawless men frequently gave full rein to all their 
 brutal passions and did the most cruel deeds, when 
 half-crazed with rum and rage. I am not writing 
 of the Santa Fe of to-day, but of the Santa Fe of 
 seyenty-five years ago. 
 
 For a moment Rex and Dill knew not what to do, 
 then the instinct of true manhood, aroused in de- 
 fense of the weak and helpless, asserted itself in 
 the bosom of each lad simultaneously and, to his 
 very great astonishment, the huge red-whiskered 
 bully found himself confronting two very white- 
 faced but determined American lads, who had sud- 
 denly stepped in between him and the negro boy. 
 
 "Stop!" shouted Rex. "Stop!" and his right 
 hand went quickly to the haft of the hunting-knife 
 
28 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 in his belt, the only weapon he had with him, and 
 his strong young body threw itself intuitively into 
 an attitude of self-defense. 
 
 Dill said nothing. There was no need. His 
 actions spoke for him. He stood bravely by the 
 side of Rex, his face white, but his eyes flashing 
 with indignation, and his whole attitude saying as 
 plainly as had Rex's words, "Stop ! Stop !" 
 
 And the big bully did stop, not ten feet from 
 where the lads stood, his flushed face and blood-shot 
 eyes staring in an astonishment that was quickly 
 changing into rage at the two boys who had dared 
 to come between him and the negro boy. 
 
 "Git out of th' way!" and the knife was raised 
 threateningly. "Git out of th' way, or I'll" A 
 vicious thrust of the knife finished the sentence. 
 "This ain't none of your affair. It's atween me an' 
 that black skunk. Now, git!" and his voice rose 
 into a roar of rage. "I'll have that nigger's hide, 
 if I have tew take yourn with it," and he leaped 
 straight toward the boys. 
 
 Rex and Dill were not cowards. They had often 
 proven their courage, even to the point of facing 
 death ; but, when that great brute, half-drunken and 
 wild with rage, hurled himself upon them, both lads 
 felt the most terrible fear they had ever known 
 and proved themselves the possessors of the truest 
 kind of courage, the kind that can bravely face dan- 
 ger when afraid; for they stood their ground in 
 spite of their fear. 
 
DILL HURLED HIMSELF AT THE MAN'S LEGS. 
 
Pom 29 
 
 Rex, at the leap of the bully, sprang aside to 
 avoid the thrust of the knife, for the man had 
 sprung straight toward him, probably because he 
 was the larger of the two boys, and in self-defense 
 drew his own knife ; but Dill, seeing the peril of his 
 comrade, hurled himself at the man's legs, like a 
 modern football tackle, and brought the great brute 
 to the ground with a suddenness that shook every 
 bone in the big body. 
 
 "Now, I'll 'tend tew this here modern Goliah, 
 who goes about seekin' what boys, white an' black, 
 he can devour," and a huge hand reached down 
 and jerked Dill to his feet just in time to save him 
 from a wicked thrust of the knife, while the kick 
 of a booted foot sent the knife flying a rod through 
 the air. 
 
 Rex had sprung promptly to Dill's aid; but the 
 same hand that had gripped Dill caught him and 
 thrust him back. 
 
 "Them red whiskers is my meat. Now jest stand 
 back and watch me chaw them," and Hammer 
 Jones, a look in his blue eyes that the boys had 
 never seen there before, thrust both lads behind 
 him and faced the bully, who was struggling to his 
 feet, swearing horribly. In another moment the 
 man stood on his feet, Hammer Jones making no 
 move to prevent him, and was glaring into the eyes 
 of his new antagonist. 
 
 "Come on, whiskers," encouraged Ham, shaking 
 his great hammer-like fist. "I ain't no helpless little 
 
30 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 nigger, nor yit even a white boy; but I'm a man 
 what's goin' tew give you th' durndest wallopin' a 
 man ever had or git one myself Hi, let that knife 
 alone !" and his right hand went quickly to the butt 
 of the pistol in his belt, as the man made a swift 
 movement toward the spot where the knife lay. 
 "We'll jest fight this out in th' good American way 
 with our fists, an' without any knife stabbin' or 
 pistol shootin', unless you compels me tew do th' 
 shootin'." 
 
 The man stopped short and turned a pair of glar- 
 ing eyes on Ham. 
 
 "'Tain't none of yer affair," he glowered. Then, 
 noting the bulk and fighting look of his antagonist, 
 the wind suddenly went out of the sails of his cour- 
 age and left them flapping. "I won't really mean- 
 in' tew harm th' nigger or th' yunks," he continued, 
 glancing furtively around the crowd that by this 
 time had gathered. "Jest wanted tew scare th' nig 
 tew hear him yell an' see him run." 
 
 "Great fun, wasn't it?" queried Ham. "Want 
 some more?" 
 
 "Sartain," and the man grinned. 
 
 "Good. You shall have all you want," and, with 
 a yell that made every man in the crowd jump a 
 foot high, Hammer Jones suddenly drew his knife 
 and flourishing it around his head sprang straight 
 toward the bully. 
 
 The man gave one terrified glance at the coming 
 man and knife, and then turned and ran shrieking 
 
Pom 31 
 
 down the street, as badly frightened as the negro 
 boy had been, with Hammer Jones yelling at every 
 jump after him, and followed by the crowd wild 
 with excitement. In a dozen jumps Ham had over- 
 taken the man, and now, about every third step, 
 he managed to get in a tremendous kick, that would 
 bring a yell, like the shriek of a steam calliope, out 
 of the bully. 
 
 In this way they ran for perhaps a dozen rods, 
 when they came to where the street passed close to 
 a particularly vile and muddy pond of green- 
 scummed water ; and with one last tremendous kick 
 Ham sent the fellow sprawling headfirst into this 
 pond. When he came out he was a sight for gods 
 and men ; and, dripping mud and curses, he rushed 
 to his horse, mounted and rode out of Santa Fe 
 amid the jeers, so it seemed, of every man and 
 child in town. 
 
 Rex and Dill had followed close behind Ham, 
 and now the big fellow turned to them. 
 
 "You yunks must a-been wantin' tew commit sui- 
 cide," he said frowning, "tew git in th' way of 
 Greaser Smith when he's wild with drink. He'd 
 have stuck that knife in you sartain, seein' you was 
 only boys. He's as brave as a lion, when it comes 
 tew fightin' boys ; but men wal, you seed how he'd 
 fight a man, th' cowardly skunk. But I reckon he 
 won't do any more braggin' in Santa Fe," and Ham 
 grinned joyously, as he thought of the looks of the 
 bully as he emerged dripping from the pond. 
 
32 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 "Now, you boys better git back tew Young's quar- 
 ters, an' stay there 'til mornin'. Santa Fe is goin' 
 tew be some wild tew-night a-celebratin' th' comin' 
 of th' Americanos Hi, nigger, what you wantin' 
 now? Ain't you got these young fellers in enough 
 trouble for one night?" and Ham turned a scowl- 
 ing face on the negro boy, who had followed Rex 
 and Dill and now crept up close behind them. 
 
 "I done wants to t'ank dem fo' sabin' dis nig- 
 gah's hide," the black answered. "Fs pow'ful ob- 
 ligated," and he bowed his kinky head first to Rex 
 then to Dill. 
 
 Rex and Dill both laughed. They could not help 
 it, so irresistibly funny was the appearance of the 
 negro boy as he stood bowing before them, while 
 the scowl on Ham's face quickly changed to a grin 
 that threatened to swallow both ears. 
 
 The body of the negro lad looked as if it had been 
 modeled after an inflated football, so round and 
 plump it was, while his head was almost exactly the 
 shape of a fat pumpkin, with round, plump cheeks, 
 glistening white teeth and little, round eyes, almost 
 swallowed by the surrounding fat. To this body 
 were attached two very fat arms and two very fat 
 legs. An old woolen shirt and a pair of trousers 
 cut off at the knees partially covered the glistening 
 black skin of the legs and the body, but the feet were 
 bare and the kinky black hair was uncovered. He 
 was considerably shorter than Dill was, but looked 
 to be about his age. Now, imagine this ludicrous 
 
Pom 33 
 
 round ebony figure bowing and scraping before the 
 two boys, and you will understand why they laugh 
 and how the grin came on Ham's face. 
 
 "It wasn't us that saved your hide. It was Ham. 
 That big fellow there. You'd better thank him," 
 Rex said, as soon as he could control his laughter 
 sufficiently to speak. 
 
 ' 'Deed I will. Fs much obligated to dat man 
 wid de mule kick. 'Deed I'll t'ank him," and he 
 whirled about and began bowing and scraping be- 
 fore Ham. 
 
 "That's all right, sonny," Ham said. "Couldn't 
 nohow see such a jolly black skinful of fat pricked 
 with such an ugly lookin' knife. Could we, yunks ?" 
 and Ham winked to the two boys. "Now, what 
 might your name be ?" 
 
 "I's done named," and the fat little figure 
 straightened up proudly, "I's done named Napol- 
 yun Bonapart Jerusal'm Jones ; but 'most folks done 
 calls me Pom, 'cose I's got so much pompusity, an' 
 Pom am short fo' pompusity. Dun know what dat 
 pompusity am, but 'specks it's jes' a big name fo' fat. 
 I's an uncommon fat niggah," and the black little 
 imp spread out his fat legs, thrust out his fat chest 
 and threw back his round head until he looked the 
 very picture of pomposity done in ebony. 
 
 All this amused Rex and Dill very much and they 
 determined to take the negro lad back with them to 
 the store. Pom, as we will call him, accepted their 
 invitation with alacrity; and, taking Ham's advice, 
 
34 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 the three returned to Captain Young's at once. 
 Here they learned that the negro boy had no home, 
 no friends and no money; and, pitying him and 
 feeling that his comicalities would more than repay 
 them for their trouble, they insisted on his spending 
 the night with them, and made a bed for him on the 
 great pile of skins in the back part of the room. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 OFF FOR THE MOUNTAINS 
 
 THE three following days were very interesting 
 and very busy days for Rex and Dill. There 
 was the party of trappers to outfit and get ready for 
 the long expedition to the Rocky Mountains ; and of 
 course both boys took the greatest interest in watch- 
 ing this outfitting process. Then there were the 
 trappers themselves, men who had trapped and 
 hunted all through the Rocky Mountain regions, 
 and knew their wonders and perils, as sailors know 
 the seas. The boys were never tired of listening to 
 their tales of the wild and adventurous life of the 
 plains and the mountains and to their descriptions 
 of scenery so grand and wonderful that even these 
 rude, uncultured men spoke of it in awe and rever- 
 ence. And then there was Santa Fe, that quaint 
 old Aztec-Spanish-Mexican town, the oldest white 
 settlement in the territory of the United States, to 
 explore. Rex and Dill never wearied of watching 
 its picturesque inhabitants as they went about their 
 work or pleasures, nor of wandering through its 
 crooked dirty streets, populous with dogs and chil- 
 dren. And everywhere the boys went they were 
 followed by their black satellite, Pom, the negro 
 
 35 
 
36 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 boy, who, from the night of his adventure with 
 Greaser Smith, had attached himself to them with 
 a dog-like affection and devotion that neither boy 
 had the heart to repulse. Then he was such a jolly, 
 good-natured, comical, little fellow, always doing or 
 saying something to cause a hearty laugh, always 
 so willing to help when his help was needed, that, 
 before the three days were up, both boys had be- 
 come so attached to him that neither cared to get 
 rid of him, and even prevailed upon Captain Tom 
 Roberts to allow them to take Pom with them to the 
 mountains. 
 
 "He knows how to cook and can help about the 
 camp," argued Rex. 
 
 "He's as funny as a circus and will keep us all 
 good-natured/' added Dill. 
 
 And Captain Tom had agreed, not without a little 
 grumbling, that the negro boy should go, to the de- 
 light of Pom as well as to the satisfaction of the 
 boys. 
 
 There was one other member of the party of trap- 
 pers that Rex and Dill were overjoyed to have go 
 with them. This was Hammer Jones, who had 
 been a trapper before he had been a wagoner, and 
 who needed but little urging to enlist under Captain 
 Tom, for whom he had great admiration. Besides 
 he had become very fond of the two lads during 
 the long wagon journey from Independence to Santa 
 Fe, and was really very glad to be with them 
 longer. 
 
Off for the Mountains 37 
 
 Yes, Rex and Dill were two very busy and two 
 very interested boys during these three days; but 
 at last Monday morning dawned cool and clear, and 
 the great day had come. 
 
 Long before sunrise the two boys were up and 
 out assisting the trappers pack the mules. There 
 were eighteen thick Mexican blankets one for each 
 man and boy in the party a dozen or more kettles, 
 frying-pans and coffee pots, several small bags of 
 coffee, sugar, salt and flour, a couple of hundred 
 steel traps, a large quantity of powder and lead, a 
 number of dressed deerskins with which to replace 
 clothing and moccasins when worn out, a 
 dozen or so hatchets and axes, smoking tobacco, 
 an extra woolen shirt for each member of the 
 party, two large, heavy canvas tents, an unusual 
 luxury, and a number of minor articles; and 
 all these had to be packed on the backs of the 
 patient mules thirty in number, fifteen to carry 
 the packs and the others to be ridden by the 
 trappers until loaded with furs. In addition to 
 these animals there were ten horses. Captain Tom 
 Roberts had a fine black stallion that he called Don 
 Lucifer. Rex and Dill each had purchased a sturdy 
 pony, inured to the hardships of mountain life, and 
 Hammer Jones and six of the trappers had horses. 
 
 By sunrise everything was ready for the start. 
 Captain Tom sprang upon the back of Don Lucifer. 
 Rex and Dill mounted their ponies. The trappers 
 leaped gaily into their saddles. The white bell- 
 
38 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 mule stood at the head of the pack-train. Only 
 Pom stood hesitating by the side of his mule, a 
 small, particularly long-eared, wicked looking ani- 
 mal, of a dirty-yellowish color, called Brimstone. 
 
 "All aboard!" shouted Dill. 
 
 "Hurry!" cried Rex. 
 
 But Pom still stood, eyeing the mule apprehen- 
 sively, one hand holding the bridle rein and the 
 other resting on the pommel of the saddle. Every 
 now and then he would give a little hitch upward 
 with his body, as if he were about to mount, where- 
 upon the mule would give a vicious switch with his 
 tail, and Pom would instantly become quiet. 
 
 "Get him a ladder," called one of the trappers. 
 
 "Wait a moment an' I'll give you a boost," and 
 Hammer Jones, his eyes twinkling, rode up close 
 to where the negro stood. "Now," and he sprang 
 off his horse, "give me your foot," and he caught 
 hold of one of Pom's fat legs just below the knee. 
 
 "Ca'eful! Ca'eful, Massah Jones, ca'eful! 
 Whoa ! Whoa-a Brimstone !" and Pom, his round 
 face looking as full of apprehension as it would if 
 he were about to sit down on a live volcano, gin- 
 gerly placed one foot in the stirrup. 
 
 "Shucks, Pom, he's as gentle as a suckin' lamb. 
 Now, he-ho, he-ho heave!" and Ham, with a tre- 
 mendous upward heave, fairly lifted Pom off his 
 feet and sat him in the saddle. 
 
 The mule stood stock-still. 
 
 For an instant the look of dreadful apprehension 
 
Off for the Mountains 39 
 
 remained on Pom's face ; and then, seeing that noth- 
 ing happened, it gave way to a look of triumph, and 
 his round head went back proudly, his fat chest 
 puffed out pompously and he gave the reins a wick- 
 ed jerk. 
 
 "I's done ready. What yo' waitin' fo' ?" and his 
 eyes glanced triumphantly around the little caval- 
 cade, as if they had all been waiting for him to 
 mount, as, indeed, they had. "Go-lang, yo' ol' 
 Brimstone ! Go-lang !" and he dug both heels into 
 the mule's bony sides. "Go-lang, or I's gwine to 
 wallop de skin off yo' bones." 
 
 But Brimstone only switched his tail, turned his 
 head and looked at Pom. 
 
 "Give him a lick with your quirt," yelled one of 
 the delighted trappers. 
 
 "Yo' t'ink dis niggah done know how to ride dis 
 mule?" and Pom glanced a bit contemptuously at 
 his adviser. "I's done ride mo' mules dan yo' eb- 
 ber seed, white man; an' dis heah ol' slabsided 
 Hi, dar, don't yo' shake yo' rabbit ears at me, yo' 
 ol' yeller-skinned bag o' bones ! Now, I's gwine 
 to make him go mighty sudden. Git up !" and Pom, 
 encouraged by the mule's continued quiescence, 
 brought his quirt down smartly across Brimstone's 
 flank. 
 
 And the mule did "go mighty sudden" ; so sudden 
 that Pom, at the first jump, was hurled off his back 
 and sent rolling over the soft grass of the prairie, 
 pulling up handfuls of grass at every roll. 
 
4o With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 Pom sat up and glared at Brimstone. 
 
 The mule stopped short, faced about, and, stretch- 
 ing out his head toward the negro boy, flapped his 
 long ears and brayed loudly and triumphantly. 
 
 This was too much for Pom, and, jumping to his 
 feet, he shook his fists angrily at the mule. 
 
 "Stop dat dar crowin' !" he shouted. "Stop yo' 
 crowin', yo' fool mule. I done 'low no mule to crow 
 ober dis niggah. I's gwine to ride yo' now, if I 
 busticates ebbery bone in mah skel'ton," and Pom 
 started for the mule, his round face puckered into 
 a look of dire determination. 
 
 The trappers shouted and laughed their delight, 
 and gathered around Pom and his mule, and back 
 of them gathered half the populace of Santa Fe. 
 The negro was showing that he had grit. This 
 was better than they had expected. 
 
 Pom marched straight to the mule. 
 
 The mule flapped his big ears and switched his 
 tail, but otherwise stood motionless. 
 
 Pom gripped the bridle rein with one hand, the 
 pommel of the saddle with the other, placed one foot 
 in the stirrup, and by a tremendous effort heaved 
 his body into the saddle, and, gripping his legs 
 tightly about the body of the mule and holding on to 
 the pommel of the saddle firmly with his left hand, 
 he raised the quirt in his right hand. 
 
 During all this the mule stood absolutely motion- 
 less, save for the flapping of his big ears and the 
 switching of his tail. 
 
Off for the Mountains 41 
 
 "Yo'll crow ober dis niggah, will yo' ? Lab right 
 in mah face ! Now, yo' ol' fool mule, I's done gwine 
 to show yo' who's mastah. Git up!" and Pom 
 brought the whip down with all the strength of his 
 fat arm across the hip of Brimstone. 
 
 Again the mule jumped and bucked and kicked 
 and grunted; and Pom bumped and bounded and 
 grunted, but he stuck to the saddle, gripping the 
 pommel with both hands and holding on for dear 
 life. Backward, forward, sideways, rearing, 
 plunging, kicking whirled, dashed and jumped the 
 mule for about two minutes; and then, as suddenly 
 as he had begun he stopped and turned his head and 
 looked at Pom in mulish disgust. 
 
 And Pom was there all right, only, somehow in 
 the mixup, he had lost hold of the pommel of the 
 saddle and had caught hold of the mule's tail, which 
 he was now tightly gripping with both hands, his 
 fat body stretched along the back and his feet hug- 
 ging the neck of the mule. 
 
 "Golly," and Pom let go of the mule's tail and 
 cautiously straightened up in the saddle, "dat mule 
 am loaded wid greased lightnin' fo' sho'. I done 
 thought he's gwine to knock mah spinal meningitus 
 t'ro' mah medder oblongater." (Pom had once 
 served for a year or two as a doctor's servant and 
 had gathered a weird and wonderful vocabulary of 
 medical terms, that he used whenever he thought 
 the occasion demanded something a little out of the 
 ordinary.) 
 
42 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 How the trappers did shout and laugh and cheer, 
 until every sleeper in Sante Fe sprang out of bed and 
 rushed out of doors to see what the matter was! 
 Pom had proven that somewhere in that mass of fat 
 he had a backbone, and had jumped up many notches 
 in the estimation of the trappers, who had been dis- 
 posed to treat the negro boy as a buffoon. Indeed, 
 this mule, whose tricks were well known, had been 
 given to Pom for the especial purpose of making 
 sport; and now that the circus was over and Pom 
 was victor, all were ready to begin the journey in 
 the best possible spirits. 
 
 "Everybody get ready!" shouted Captain Tom, 
 the moment a lull in the hilarity gave him the op- 
 portunity. 
 
 Again the trappers, those who had dismounted, 
 leaped gaily to the backs of their mules or horses; 
 and all sat waiting the command to start. 
 
 "Now, you boys just make the best of whatever 
 luck comes, and remember that real pluck and grit 
 will 'most always win out, even in the most des- 
 perate situations," Captain Young said, as he 
 gripped the hand of each boy. "A trapper gets 
 some mighty hard knocks, but, if he stands up and 
 takes them like a man, they only make him the 
 harder. May fortune favor you, my boys!" and 
 with a warm shake of the hand Captain Young 
 turned to where Tom Roberts sat on Don Lucifer. 
 
 For a couple of minutes the two men stood talk- 
 ing Captain Young was giving his final instruc- 
 
Off for the Mountains 43 
 
 tions, then they shook hands and Tom Roberts 
 turned in his saddle. 
 
 "Advance!" he commanded, and, heading his 
 horse to the northward, rode slowly away toward 
 the distant ranges of the Rocky Mountains. And 
 close behind him rode Rex and Dill, followed by the 
 negro boy and the pack-mule train, a trapper rid- 
 ing by the side of each pack-mule. Thus, just as 
 the sun rose above the hills to the east, the little 
 cavalcade of trappers rode through the streets of 
 Santa Fe, with many farewells and good wishes 
 from bright-eyed senoritas and dark-skinned dons, 
 and out on to the surrounding plains, and slowly 
 crawled up the hillsides, until at last it wound its 
 way over the brow of a hill and the backward- 
 turning eyes of Rex and Dill had looked upon 
 Santa Fe for the last time for many long months. 
 From that moment the little band of trappers was 
 thrown absolutely upon its own resources. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 AN ADVENTURE WITH A GRIZZLY 
 
 TF some of my readers will pick up an old geog- 
 raphy, bearing the date of about 1833 the date 
 of the beginning of this tale and turn to the map 
 of North America, they will find that the greater 
 part of what is now Western United States was at 
 that time an unexplored wilderness of mountains 
 and plains and valleys inhabited only by wild In- 
 dians and wild animals. Along the coast of Cali- 
 fornia, it is true, the Spaniards from Mexico had 
 established a number of missions, for the conversion 
 of the Indians to their form of religion, which had 
 flourished until now they had become rich in herds 
 and growing fields of grain and fruits. Around 
 each of these missions a few Spanish settlers and a 
 large number of semi-civilized Indians had gath- 
 ered ; but all the rest of the vast territory from the 
 Pacific Ocean eastward to the Missouri River was 
 practically "unexplored territory" to all geog- 
 raphers; and in all this enormous realm there was 
 not a single permanent white settlement north of 
 Santa Fe and Taos only roaming bands of white 
 trappers, and tribes of unnumbered Indians. 
 
 44 
 
An Adventure With a Grizzly 45 
 
 Think, boys, of what seventy-five years have 
 wrought for your country ! 
 
 And of all the dramatis persons who played a 
 part in bringing about these wonderful changes, 
 none performed a more important role than did 
 these same humble trappers, a typical party of 
 whom we have just seen start out into this unknown 
 wilderness. They were the real explorers, the true 
 pathfinders of these Western Wilds. 
 
 First came the trapper and hunter, then the 
 scientific explorer, then the pioneer settler, and lastly 
 the farmer and the railroad this was the true 
 ordering of the march of civilization westward from 
 the Mississippi to the Pacific ; and of these the trap- 
 per and hunter alone had to depend solely on him- 
 self. He had no blazer-of-the-way, no guide, only 
 his good rifle and his undauntable courage. 
 
 I have paused long enough to write this, be- 
 cause I wish my readers to understand the 
 important part the kind of men with whom we are 
 to sojourn played in the upbuilding of our West. 
 Some day some American Homer will write the epic 
 of the Western trapper; and place him, where he 
 belongs, in the forefront of American heroes. 
 
 But, to return to our young friends. 
 
 There were fourteen men, every one of them 
 chosen for his known courage and skill and pluck 
 and endurance, in Captain Tom Roberts's band of 
 trappers. This, with Captain Tom himself and the 
 three boys, made eighteen men and boys a small 
 
46 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 enough number when you consider that they were 
 going into a country where there were hundreds of 
 hostile Indians who would be constantly on the 
 watch for opportunities to rob and kill. 
 
 They did not expect to begin trapping operations 
 until they reached the North Fork of the Platte 
 River, many days distant from Santa Fe. Here 
 they were to begin putting out traps and to work 
 slowly down stream until they came to the Sweet- 
 water, one of its tributaries. Up this stream they 
 were to continue trapping to its head-waters, and 
 thence, if the snows of winter did not prevent, they 
 were to cross over into the valley of the Green River, 
 and work in this region until it was time to go to 
 the rendezvous. 
 
 Such, briefly outlined, was the itinerary Captain 
 Young and Tom Roberts had planned for our 
 friends, as being the one most likely to bring them 
 into the region of Kit Carson's trapping operations. 
 Now, if you will turn to a map of the United States, 
 and, beginning at Santa Fe, roughly trace with 
 your finger the route here indicated, you will learn 
 something of the magnitude of the journey before 
 "Rex and Dill a thousand miles or more of road- 
 less, bridgeless country; and all to be traversed by 
 the slow feet of horses and mules. 
 
 But no thoughts of the future, of coming hard- 
 ships or dangers, troubled the two boys, as they 
 rode gaily along through the clear, cool morning 
 air, with Pom following at a respectful distance 
 
An Adventure With a Grizzly 47 
 
 behind on Brimstone. The mule, from the moment 
 he had turned his head and looked his disgust to find 
 the negro boy still on his back had been all that a 
 well-behaved mule should be and had walked along 
 under the weight of his new master as sedately as 
 any mule in the train. 
 
 "How I wish Tom and Will and Frank and the 
 rest of the boys back in New Orleans might see us 
 now !" Rex said, with boyish enthusiasm, as his eyes 
 glanced up and down the string of trappers and 
 pack-mules that stretched for a dozen rods or more 
 along the trail. "Wouldn't they like to be with us 
 now ?" and his face glowed and his eyes sparkled. 
 
 "You bet, they would," was Dill's boyish answer. 
 "We're really and truly trappers now, and I am 
 beginning to feel more like a man already," and his 
 eyes lighted. "Someway this going right out into 
 the wilderness, where one has to depend on himself 
 for everything, makes a fellow, even if he is a boy, 
 feel like a man." 
 
 "Indeed it does," agreed Rex. "I feel as if I had 
 grown about two inches in the last two hours," and 
 he straightened up in his saddle, threw back his 
 head and laughed. 
 
 And, indeed, it was an attractive and romantic 
 picture that the two boys and their companions pre- 
 sented, as they rode slowly they could not go faster 
 than a walk on account of the pack-mules now up 
 some steep declivity, now through a deep ravine, 
 now across a lovely valley, always surrounded by 
 
48 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 the wild and picturesque scenery of the yet unbroken 
 wilderness, the bell of the lead-mule tinkling, the 
 men laughing and joking and calling to one an- 
 other they were in safe country now and around 
 them only the sounds and the life of the wilderness. 
 
 Boys, look long at this picture. Never again 
 will these fearless men ride forth in the wild free- 
 dom of their untrammeled manhood to brave the 
 perils and to conquer the hardships of the free plains 
 and mountains. The deerskin dress, the fur cap, 
 the long rifle, the beaded moccasins, the stalwart, 
 muscular bodies, the bronzed faces, the fearless eyes, 
 the free, bold spirits all, alas ! belong to a past that 
 can never return. But, boys, we can admire and 
 emulate their courage and pluck and endurance and 
 honesty those Stirling qualities' of character be- 
 longing alike to all true men, and we can hold in 
 grateful remembrance the debt we^-America owe 
 to their memory. 
 
 At noon Captain Tom halted on the banks of a 
 clear, cool stream of water; and the trappers went 
 into camp for a couple of hours. The packs were 
 taken off the backs of the mules ; and all the animals 
 were hobbled and turned loose to graze on the rich 
 grass that grew near the water. A half a dozen 
 fires were built ; and soon the coffee was boiling in 
 the pots and the meat was roasting on wooden 
 spits. When the meal was over, Ham picked up his 
 rifle. 
 
An Adventure With a Grizzly 49 
 
 "I reckon I'll try an' git some fresh meat, Cap- 
 tain," he said. 
 
 "All right. Get back in an hour," and Captain 
 Tom stretched himself out on the soft grass at ease. 
 
 "Oh, can't we go with you?" and Rex and Dill 
 both sprang to their feet. 
 
 "I'm willin', if th' Captain is," and Ham glanced 
 to where Captain Tom lay. 
 
 Captain Tom smiled and nodded; and the next 
 minute Rex and Dill had their rifles in their hands 
 and were standing by Ham's side. 
 
 "We'll see what's a-top of that ridge," and Ham 
 pointed to a wooded ridge lying about a quar- 
 ter of a mile back of their camp. "I thought I saw 
 a deer or two slip into th' woods, jest afore we 
 stopped to camp," and he started off in the direc- 
 tion of the ridge, with the eager boys in close at- 
 tendance. 
 
 Rex and Dill had often hunted deer, as well as 
 other and more dangerous animals, in the wilds of 
 Louisiana, and both were good shots with their 
 rifles. Consequently, when they separated just be- 
 fore entering the woods, so as to approach the game 
 from three separate points, the boys knew how to 
 conduct themselves almost as well as did Ham him- 
 self. 
 
 "I reckon we'll find deer afore we get a-top th' 
 ridge, so keep your eyes peeled an' be ready to shoot 
 on th' jump," was Ham's parting advice. 
 
5O With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 Rex entered the woods about ten rods to the right 
 of Ham, and Dill about the same distance to his 
 left. 
 
 The ridge was some two hundred feet high, with 
 steep rocky sides covered quite thickly with cotton- 
 wood trees and underbrush. 
 
 The three hunters saw no game until they were 
 near the top, then Rex, who had been moving up- 
 ward as noiselessly as possible, heard a rustle of 
 leaves in a thick clump of underbrush a couple of 
 rods to his right and a few feet higher up the ridge 
 and instantly stopped, his rifle thrown to his 
 shoulder, ready to fire the moment the expected deer 
 bounded out of the brush. For a moment he stood 
 thus, his eyes on the clump of bushes, his finger on 
 the trigger of his rifle ; and then, to his horror, the 
 bushes suddenly parted and a huge grizzly bear 
 rushed out and charged straight for him, her little 
 round eyes red with rage. 
 
 For one terrible instant Rex was absolutely para- 
 lyzed with fear. He could not move a muscle, not 
 so much as to press the trigger of his rifle. He 
 could not utter a sound, not even to warn Ham and 
 Dill of his danger. 
 
 The grizzly, when about a rod away, suddenly 
 stopped, reared up on her hind legs, and, with an 
 angry -growl, prepared to hurl herself upon the pet- 
 rified boy. But at this instant, Rex awoke from 
 his horrible night-mare, and, with a yell that was 
 heard back in camp, fired his rifle, dropped the gun, 
 
An Adventure With a Grizzly 51 
 
 and, whirling about, ran for a large tree a rod be- 
 low him, up which he climbed with such speed, that, 
 when the bear reached the bottom of the trunk, he 
 was twenty feet up the tree and still going. 
 
 A grizzly bear is not a good tree climber, unless 
 the tree is a large one with an abundance of knots 
 and limbs for footholds. But, unfortunately, this 
 was exactly the kind of a tree Rex, in his flight, 
 had elected to climb ; and the bear, after a moment's 
 pause to growl her rage and defiance, promptly 
 started up after him. 
 
 At this moment Ham came tearing through the 
 brush, and in an instant his keen eyes had taken in 
 the situation Rex up a tree and a grizzly bear go- 
 ing up after him. 
 
 This, you will please remember, was before the 
 date of the repeating rifle, or even that of the breech- 
 loader, when every separate charge of powder had 
 to be poured into the muzzle of the barrel and every 
 patched bullet had to be driven home with the ram- 
 rod. It took time then to load a rifle; and, when 
 loaded, the hunter had only one small bullet between 
 him and whatever danger threatened. This made 
 the killing of a grizzly bear an altogether different 
 proposition from what it is to-day, with the high- 
 power, rapid-fire modern rifle; and it was seldom 
 that any hunter, however brave, cared to provoke 
 a fight with one of these monsters, whose thick hide 
 and tough bones and tremendous vitality was al- 
 most sure to require more than one of these small 
 
52 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 balls to drive the life out of his huge body. The 
 grizzly bear was the most ferocious, the most dread- 
 ed by whites and Indians alike, of all the ani- 
 mals of the West; and for a white man or an In- 
 dian to kill one single-handed was enough to give 
 the killer a reputation for bravery for the rest of 
 his life. 
 
 Hammer Jones was a brave man ; but he knew the 
 grizzly bear, knew that the one small ball of lead 
 in his rifle was all that stood between him and the 
 claws and the teeth of the brute. If that one bullet 
 failed of being immediately fatal, he knew that the 
 wounded grizzly would drop from the tree and be 
 upon him before he could reload his rifle and that 
 meant almost certain death. Hammer Jones knew 
 all this*; but he was cool and unafraid. It was a 
 moment when haste might mean the waste of his 
 life. He must make that one bullet do its fatal 
 work. 
 
 The bear had now climbed some ten feet up the 
 tree and was still working his way clumsily upward 
 toward Rex, who had mounted as high as possible, 
 and, drawing his hunting-knife, his panic over, sat 
 coolly awaiting the bear. Neither Rex nor the 
 bear saw Ham. They had eyes only for each other. 
 
 Hammer Jones ran close to the trunk of the tree ; 
 and then, throwing his rifle to his shoulder, waited 
 until a movement of the foreleg of the grizzly would 
 expose the spot just back and under the shoulder 
 blade where his bullet was most sure to be fatal. 
 
An Adventure With a Grizzly 53 
 
 For a minute to the anxious man it seemed like an 
 hour he stood, motionless as if he had been frozen 
 stiff, his rifle leveled, his eye glancing along the bar- 
 rel, his finger on the trigger ; and then the grizzly, 
 in reaching upward for a limb, uncovered the fatal 
 spot, and Ham fired. 
 
 With a roar that started half the men in camp 
 running to their aid, the grizzly let go her hold on 
 the tree and fell to the ground. 
 
 "You've got her! You've got her!" excitedly 
 yelled Rex, beginning to climb down from the tree. 
 
 But Ham had not "got her" yet; for almost the 
 instant the grizzly struck the ground, she reared up 
 on her hind-legs, and, with blood and foam drop- 
 ping from her mouth, she charged straight toward 
 the big fellow. 
 
 Ham jerked out his hunting-knife; but, before 
 he could use it, before the grizzly could get to him, 
 a rifle cracked so close to the side of his face that 
 the powder burnt his cheek, and a bullet from Dill's 
 gun struck the bear in the breast, stopping her rush 
 for an instant and knocking her backward. Be- 
 fore she could recover the three bullets had done 
 their fatal work; and, with a final growl and a last 
 desperate effort to reach her enemy, she plunged 
 forward and fell dead at the feet of Hammer Jones. 
 
 "Reload! Reload!" Ham warned. "Her mate 
 might be comin' 'long any moment," and with swift 
 hands he began reloading his own rifle ; and not un- 
 til both boys had powder and ball back in their guns 
 
54 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 would he allow them to approach the dead grizzly. 
 "Th' first thing to do after shootin' is always load- 
 in'," he explained; "for th' Lord alone knows when 
 a feller will need a gun in this here country, an' 
 when he does need it he needs it loaded." 
 
 The guns loaded the three at once began to ex- 
 amine the grizzly. All three balls had taken effect. 
 Rex had hit her in the breast, but too high to touch 
 the heart. Both balls from the guns of Ham and 
 Dill had passed through her heart. 
 
 Suddenly, while they were bending over the dead 
 bear, all were startled by the sound of the rush of 
 feet close to them, and the next instant a ball of fur 
 tumbled against Rex, nearly knocking him off his 
 feet. 
 
 "Th' cub! Th' cub!" exclaimed Ham. "I 
 knowed she had a cub," and he caught the young 
 bear up by the nape of the neck and held him up for 
 the inspection of the boys. 
 
 "Oh, but isn't he a funny little fellow ? Don't kill 
 him. I am going to keep him," and Rex reached 
 out and took the squirming little fellow in his arms. 
 
 The cub whined and nestled up close to his pro- 
 tector. 
 
 "Just look!" exclaimed the delighted boy. "He 
 knows I won't harm him. Why, he's as gentle as 
 a kitten," and he stroked the soft fur. 
 
 By this time the men from the camp, headed by 
 Captain Tom, had reached the woods, and were 
 hallooing and calling to know what had happened. 
 
An Adventure With a Grizzly 55 
 
 Ham and the boys answered them with triumphant 
 yells; and in another minute Captain Tom and a 
 half dozen of the trappers came crashing through 
 the brush. They quickly gathered around the dead 
 bear, and examined the carcass with all the interest 
 of experts. Not one of them but had had his own 
 battles with grizzlies; and now each, after having 
 listened to how this one was killed, felt called upon 
 to relate some of his own experiences with grizzlies, 
 all of which was intensely interesting to Rex and 
 Dill. 
 
 But Captain Tom soon cut this story telling short, 
 and set the men to skinning the bear. The hide off, 
 they cut the choicest steaks from the body, and, 
 loaded with the meat and the skin, returned to camp, 
 Rex still carrying the little bear cub in his arms. 
 In a short time the packs were again on the backs of 
 the mules, and all were ready to resume the journey. 
 
 At first Captain Tom had declared that the grizzly 
 cub must be killed ; but so earnestly did Rex and Dill 
 plead for the little fellow's life and for permission 
 to take him with them, that at last he reluctantly 
 yielded, thinking that the bother the cub would cause 
 the boys would soon make them willing to get rid 
 of him. Accordingly the two lads took turns in 
 carrying the little animal on the saddles in front of 
 them ; and, to the surprise of all, got along with very 
 little trouble on the part of bruin. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 A LONELY GRAVE 
 
 THAT night Rex and Dill ate their first grizzly 
 bear steak; and both agreed with Ham, that 
 "when a feller's powerful hungry it'll go down all 
 right, but 'tain't no more th' equil of venison than 
 sourcrout is of plumb-puddinV They found the 
 meat tough, with a peculiar flavor that neither lad 
 liked. Possibly, if the bear had been young and 
 fat, instead of old and poor, the meat would have 
 tasted better. 
 
 The camp for the night was pitched in a beauti- 
 ful little valley, through which flowed a swift stream 
 of pure water, cold with the snows of the moun- 
 tains. An abundance of grass furnished ample 
 food for the horses and mules, which were hobbled 
 and allowed to feed at will until it began to grow 
 dark, when they were safely picketed near the camp 
 where they could be guarded during the dark hours 
 of the night. The two tents were set up in a little 
 grove of cottonwoods near the water, where there 
 was an abundance of wood for fuel. The packs 
 from the backs of the mules were placed in one of 
 the tents, to protect them from the damp of the night 
 or a possible fall of rain; while the other tent was 
 
 56 
 
A Lonely Grave 57 
 
 reserved for sleeping quarters for the boys and any 
 of the men who cared to seek its shelter for the 
 night. In case of a storm, of course, both tents 
 could be utilized by the trappers ; but, unless driven 
 to their shelter by rain, the majority of these hardy 
 men preferred to roll themselves up in their blankets 
 unsheltered save by the broad tent of the skies or 
 the friendly branches of a tree. 
 
 When it began to grow dark a great camp-fire 
 was built in front of the two tents, between the 
 trunks of two tall cottonwood trees; and the men, 
 lighting their pipes, squatted down around it for a 
 quiet smoke and talk before rolling themselves up 
 in their blankets for the night. 
 
 Rex and Dill never forgot this first night's en- 
 campment with the trappers. There were many 
 things to impress it deeply on their memories. The 
 scene itself the clean white of the new tents glisten- 
 ing in the bright light of the camp-fire under the 
 overhanging shadows of the trees; the swift-flow- 
 ing waters of the river sparkling redly in the fire- 
 light; the surrounding mountains, standing out in 
 the darkness, shadowy, grim, mysterious ; the buck- 
 skin-dressed men seated around the camp-fire, with 
 its red sparks and flames shooting skyward and 
 lighting up their rugged features ; the mysterious 
 surrounding silence of the great wilderness, broken 
 only by the weird sound of the night, the murmurs 
 of the river, the voices of the men and the move- 
 ments of the restless horses and mules; and high 
 
58 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 above all, shining down serenely through the still 
 air, the stars God hung in the mysteries of the skies 
 all appealed powerfully to the poetry and romance 
 in their young lives. 
 
 Then there was the talk of the men. The roar- 
 ing camp-fire, the smoke from their pipes, the sur- 
 rounding darkness and silence, all seemed to blend, 
 and to mellow and warm their memories, until they 
 were in exactly the right mood for story telling; 
 and for a couple of hours Rex and Dill listened en- 
 thralled to the tales of these hardy Knights of the 
 Plains and the Mountains thrilling encounters and 
 desperate battles with Indians, bear fights, the hard- 
 ships and perils and grandeur and mysteries of the 
 mighty mountains told with all the realistic vivid- 
 ness of an actual actor in the scenes described. 
 
 And, when at last the camp-fire had burnt low, 
 and the men, with their saddles for pillows, their 
 rifles by their sides, to protect them from dampness 
 and to have them ready for instant use, should there 
 be need, rolled themselves up in their blankets and 
 stretched themselves out on the ground for sleep, 
 it was two awed and very quiet boys that crept to 
 their tent and prepared for the night's slumber. 
 They had been listening to the deeds of men done 
 in the strenuous times when our country was hot 
 in the matrix. 
 
 "I wonder if we will have any such adventures 
 ourselves/' Rex said longingly, as he rolled himself 
 up in his blanket. 
 
A Lonely Grave 59 
 
 "I hope so/' Dill answered. "But wouldn't the 
 boys back in New Orleans liked to have been with 
 us to-night, sitting around the camp-fire, listening 
 to those thrilling stories from the lips of the men 
 who actually did the things they told about and 
 they did not seem to think they had done anything 
 out of the ordinary, and they hadn't for them." 
 
 "No, not for them," Rex responded, with em- 
 phasis on the them. "I tell you, Dill, this is going 
 to be a great trip for us ; and, if it wasn't for getting 
 those papers and finding Kit Carson, I'd be just 
 about as happy as a boy can be. But I suppose 
 we'd better be getting to sleep," and he sighed and 
 rolled over and closed his eyes and in five minutes 
 both boys were sound asleep. 
 
 The next morning Rex awoke with a yell. He 
 had felt something cold touch his face, and, sleepily 
 putting out his hand to learn what it was, his fin- 
 gers had come in contact with the soft fur of some 
 animal, and, having just been dreaming that an 
 enormous grizzly bear was about to swallow him 
 whole, the sudden fright of the touch had brought 
 the yell from him before he was fairly awake. The 
 next instant a low growl, ending in a pathetic whine, 
 told him that it was the grizzly bear cub, which he 
 had tied the night before by means of a buckskin 
 thong fastened around the cub's neck to a stake 
 driven into the ground near the spot where he slept. 
 Rex gathered the little ball of fur into his arms and 
 the cub nestled up to him as contentedly as a kitten. 
 
60 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 "What is it? Snakes?" and Ham thrust his 
 head through the tent opening and looked anxiously 
 around. 
 
 "No," answered Rex just a little sheepishly; "it 
 was only Buster kissing me good morning." Bus- 
 ter was the name Rex had given the bear cub. 
 
 "Well," laughed Ham, "don't let Buster kiss so 
 loud next time. Thought sure 'twas snakes. 
 Now," and he quickly entered the tent, "it's time 
 everybody was up. So tumble out," and reaching 
 down suddenly be caught hold of a blanket in each 
 hand and, with a sudden jerk, tumbled both boys 
 out on the ground. 
 
 The trappers were early risers. Up with the 
 sun, was their motto; and, when traveling, they 
 were nearly always ready to start on the day's 
 journey by sunrise. 
 
 In a few minutes Rex and Dill were into the few 
 clothes they had taken off, and out where the 
 trappers already had the coffee pots boiling, the 
 "biscuit" baking and the meat roasting. The river 
 was their wash-bowl ; and a dash of its cold waters 
 over their faces and heads cleared their brains in 
 short order. 
 
 Ham had been out already and shot a deer; so 
 they had venison for breakfast that morning, and to 
 the hungry boys no meat ever tasted better. 
 
 Their journey northward was now through an 
 exceedingly rough and picturesque country. When 
 possible they followed the shores of some stream of 
 
A Lonely Grave 61 
 
 water, which often would widen out into beautiful 
 grass-covered flower-decked valleys a mile or more 
 in width, and again would narrow down into can- 
 yons, with precipitous walls of solid rock hundreds 
 of feet high. Frequently they were obliged to make 
 wide detours, because there was not room between 
 these walls of rock and the water of the river even 
 for the feet of their mules to pass. Sometimes the 
 trail wound around the sides of a mountain, fol- 
 lowing a narrow shelf of rocks hundreds of feet 
 high, where a single misstep of man or horse or 
 mule meant instant death on the rocks perhaps five 
 hundred feet below. Again the trail would pass 
 up a mountainside so steep that the trappers had 
 to get behind the pack-mules and push to enable 
 them to carry their loads upward ; and, perhaps, in 
 the next hour they would be going down a declivity 
 where the mules had to be held back with ropes in 
 order to keep them from sliding down with the 
 speed of a coasting sled. Once every mule and 
 horse had to be lowered twenty feet with ropes 
 down the precipitous bank of a stream of water ; and 
 twice they had to be raised a dozen or more feet 
 through the air in the same manner to get them out 
 of a narrow chasm into which the trail had led them. 
 Then there were countless bridgeless streams of 
 water to cross, some of them deep and swift and 
 wide, but the majority of them narrow and shal- 
 low. These had to be waded or swam or, when 
 too deep and swift, rafted. The rafts were made 
 
62 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 by tying a number of logs together with ropes until 
 large enough to bear the weight of a couple of mules 
 or horses and a man. Then these had to be rowed 
 or polled or pulled across the river. Hard, dan- 
 gerous and frequently very wet work, as Rex and 
 Dill both learned the very first time they crossed 
 a river by this method, both boys being hurled head- 
 first into the swift water by the sudden capsizing of 
 their raft, and rescued only after each lad had swal- 
 lowed about a gallon of water and been carried by 
 the swift current, notwithstanding both lads were 
 good swimmers, twenty or more rods down the 
 stream. In addition to these perils of river- 
 crossing, there were the dreadful beds of quicksand 
 hidden underneath the water, that would clutch and 
 hold and drag down the strongest man or beast, 
 unless rescue was near. 
 
 Once Pom and Brimstone, while crossing a wide 
 but shallow stream of water, were caught in the 
 grip of the death-sands; and the yells that came 
 from the negro boy, who in his fright had jumped 
 off his horse, when he felt the clutch of the 
 sands under the water pulling, pulling him slowly 
 downward, and the contortions of his fat face and 
 body as he vainly strove to free himself from the 
 holds of the sand-devils, would have been ludicrous 
 in the extreme had not his peril been so real and 
 pressing. 
 
 A couple of strong ropes were quickly thrown 
 to him, and he was told to fasten one around 
 
A Lonely Grave 63 
 
 his own body under the arms and to tie the other 
 to the pommel of Brimstone's saddle. This done, 
 all the trappers caught hold of the other ends of 
 the ropes ; and, with a heave-ho-heave, the mule and 
 the negro boy were yanked out of the sand and 
 hauled, spluttering and sprawling and snorting and 
 blowing, through the water to the safety of the 
 shore. After that nothing could induce Pom or 
 Brimstone to enter a stream of water, unless pre- 
 ceded by the boys or one of the trappers. 
 
 "I done feeled de fingahs an' soft cold wet palms 
 ob dem sand debbils creepy-crawlin' up mah legs, 
 fo' to git hold ob dis niggah's essopagus," he de- 
 clared, "an' I's nebber gwine to gib dem 'nothah 
 chance. I's done got to look out fo' my own ep- 
 pie-der-mus." 
 
 To Pom the sand devils were real devils, with 
 real fingers and soft cold wet palms, seeking to 
 grip him by the throat and pull him under the 
 water; and who would get him sure, if they ever 
 got another hold of him, and Pom intended never 
 again to give them the chance to get that hold. 
 
 Another and possibly one of the worst difficulties 
 our trappers had to surmount in their journey 
 northward, was the down-timber. Sometimes a 
 heavy snow-slide or land-slide would mow a wide 
 swath through the trees that covered the mountain- 
 side, piling their trunks one on top the other, as if 
 the devil had been playing jackstraws with them, 
 over a long stretch of ground, leaving an almost 
 
64 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 impassable barrier to pack-mules. When one of 
 these patches of down-timber crossed the trail, there 
 was only one of two things for our friends to do go 
 around it, which might mean hours of the rough- 
 est kind of traveling, or cut their way through it 
 with their axes and hatchets, a kind of labor that 
 no trapper enjoyed. 
 
 Again, almost without warning, a sudden storm 
 of rain or hail and wind might sweep down upon 
 them from the mountain tops, drenching them to 
 the skins, and filling ravines and chasms and can- 
 yons, that a moment before had been dry, with 
 roaring torrents of rushing water. Indeed, twice 
 they had narrow escapes from these sudden moun- 
 tain floods, having been caught in deep ravines and 
 only saving themselves by climbing for life, pushing 
 and pulling the animals along with them, up the 
 nearly precipitous sides, until above the reach of the 
 water, and remaining there until the flood of water 
 had gone by. 
 
 There were many deer and antelope and elk, with 
 now and then a buffalo, in these wild regions, so 
 they never wanted for fresh meat; but they had no 
 time for hunting and only killed what they needed 
 for food. They sometimes saw the Rocky Moun- 
 tain sheep and the Mountain goat, clambering over 
 the rocks high above their heads; but they did not 
 get within shooting distance of either of these ani- 
 mals. They frequently saw grizzly bears and 
 mountain lions and lynxes and wild cats; and Rex 
 
A Lonely Grave 65 
 
 and Dill between them killed half a dozen lynxes 
 and wild cats and two mountain lions; but no one 
 cared to molest the grizzlies, and only once, when 
 an ill-tempered old fellow charged the whole train, 
 was one killed, and then it took twelve rifle balls 
 to stop him. 
 
 "You'll have plenty of hunting when we get into 
 the beaver country," Captain Tom promised the 
 boys, when they saw deer and antelope and buffalo 
 almost within gunshot, and yet were not permitted 
 to go after them. "If you want to find Kit Carson 
 before the snows of winter come, we must get to the 
 beaver country just as soon as we can; and then 
 'tain't at all likely we will run onto Kit 'til we get 
 to the rendezvous, but 'tis our only chance." 
 
 And with this promise the boys, who never saw 
 a deer without wishing to go on the hunt, were 
 obliged to be content. 
 
 They saw many Indians, but usually in small 
 scattered parties of a few families each. At that 
 season of the year nearly all the tribes were out on 
 the plains, where the great herds of buffalos were. 
 The Indian depended largely upon the buffalo for 
 his food, and always, when possible, kept near his 
 source of supplies. This was the reason why Cap- 
 tain Tom had taken the mountain route northward. 
 By so doing he hoped to avoid meeting large and 
 warlike parties of Indians, who might attack his 
 small band of trappers and prove a constant source 
 of annoyance and danger. 
 
66 With Kit Carson in the 'Rockies 
 
 Captain Tom was an exceedingly cautious leader. 
 When in a region where the Indians were suspected 
 in the least of being hostile, he always kept two of 
 his best men a hundred rods or more in advance of 
 the main body, to prevent ambuscading or sudden 
 and unexpected meetings with bands of warriors. 
 At night the horses and mules were corralled near 
 where the trappers slept ; and, as an additional pre- 
 caution against the Indians stampeding them, each 
 animal was strongly hobbled. During the hours 
 of darkness three men were always on guard, the 
 guard being divided into watches of three hours 
 each. 
 
 Nearly all Indians, even those who were thought 
 to be friendly, were inveterate horse thieves and the 
 trappers had to be constantly on the watch to guard 
 against their depredations. In those uninhabited 
 wilds it was almost impossible to replace a stolen 
 horse or mule; and, as these animals were invalu- 
 able to the trappers carrying themselves and their 
 outfits, transporting their furs to market, and even, 
 sometimes, yielding up their lives to keep them from 
 starving the trappers guarded them as carefully 
 as they did their own lives. 
 
 The mosquitoes and the flies were a never ceasing 
 source of discomfort to men and beasts, except 
 when the chill of the night stiffened their wings and 
 made them torpid. During the warm hours of the 
 day they bit and stung and buzzed and whirled in 
 swarms around the heads of the men and the bodies 
 
A Lonely Grave 67 
 
 of the animals, to their very great annoyance, but, 
 fortunately, that was as far as their power of evil 
 went. 
 
 Such were the scenes witnessed, such the hard- 
 ships and perils endured and braved, such the 
 methods of traveling pursued by our little band of 
 trappers, as for nearly four weeks, they slowly 
 journeyed northward, without meeting with any 
 serious accidents or fatal misadventures, although 
 something interesting or amusing or adventurous 
 was constantly occurring. But now, because of 
 other and more important coming events, we can 
 only thus briefly allude to the details of this journey 
 and must hasten with our friends into the beaver 
 country, where they are to begin their trapping and 
 their hunt for Kit Carson. 
 
 On the twenty-fifth day out from Santa Fe, about 
 an hour before sunset, Captain Tom Roberts and 
 Hammer Jones, who were doing scout duty some 
 hundred rods in advance of the train of trappers, 
 suddenly halted their horses on the top of a high 
 rocky ridge toward which they had been riding 
 across a small valley, and, turning in their saddles, 
 pulled off their hats, and, swinging them around 
 their heads, gave the wild view-halloo of the plains. 
 
 Instantly all was excitement in the little band of 
 trappers. 
 
 "It's a herd of buffalos!" shouted one, whip- 
 ping up his mule. 
 
 "Hurrah, it's the Platte!" yelled another. "Git 
 
68 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 up, Blinks," and he hit his mule a stinging crack 
 with his quirt, and galloped off in the direction of 
 Captain Tom and Ham. 
 
 "Hurry!" cried Rex to Dill, as he whipped up 
 his horse. "Let's be the first to get there. Oh, I 
 hope it is a herd of buffalos, and that Captain Tom 
 will let us hunt them!" and, with Dill riding close 
 by his side, the excited boy sped as fast as he could 
 make his pony go toward the spot where Captain 
 Tom and Ham were still swinging their hats and 
 yelling. 
 
 "Tell dem I's comin' too, like er yeller streak 
 ob lightnin'," called Pom, as, lashing Brimstone, he 
 started after the boys, his mule bounding over the 
 ground like a large jack-rabbit, while he bounded 
 up and down on the mule's back, as if he were made 
 out of black rubber. 
 
 Rex and Dill were mounted on two exceptionally 
 fleet ponies; and they were soon at the head of the 
 procession of galloping horses and mules, and rode 
 up to where Captain Tom and Ham still sat on 
 their horses a good five rods in the lead. 
 
 "What is it? Where is it?" shouted both boys, 
 pulling up their ponies. 
 
 "There's the Platte, and there's your buffalo! 
 You shall have your buffalo hunt to-morrow," and 
 Captain Tom first pointed across the little valley 
 stretching below them to where in the distance a 
 stream of water showed, and then on beyond the 
 
A Lonely Grave 69 
 
 stream of water to where the valley was black with 
 thousands of buffalos. 
 
 "Wh-e-w !" exclaimed Rex, as his eyes took in the 
 vastness of the herd. "There must be millions of 
 them!" 
 
 "No-up," laughed Ham. "Only nine hundred 
 an' ninety-nine thousand, seven hundred an' ninety- 
 two. Me an' Tom 's jest counted 'em." 
 
 "Golly, am dem black spots all buffaf ellers !" 
 grinned Pom, the whites of his eyes growing wider 
 and rounder, as he brought Brimstone to a halt by 
 the side of the boys. "Dat am de biggest bunch 
 ob humpback cows dat dis niggah done did ebber 
 seed. I's gwine to kill one ob dem buffafellers, jes' 
 fo' to show dem low scan'lous niggahs back dar in 
 Santa Fe dat a Kentuck niggah ain't scart ob 
 nothin'," and Pom puffed out his fat chest and sat 
 very straight on the back of Brimstone. Pom was 
 always very brave while the danger was yet afar 
 off. He was also very proud of the fact that he 
 was born in "Ol' Kentuck." 
 
 By this time all of the little band of trappers 
 had gathered on the top of the ridge, and were 
 scanning the country beyond with eager eyes. 
 Nearly all of them had hunted and trapped in this 
 region before, and the eyes of these searched for 
 familiar landmarks. 
 
 "It's th' Platte, sartain sure," cried one. "An 
 th' last time I war har we camped right down thar 
 
70 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 in that bunch of cottonwoods an' willers near th' 
 river. I'd know th' spot anywhar, 'cause 'twar har 
 them cuss'd Blackfeet killed my partner, Big Frank 
 Williams. 'Most on you knowed Frank," and he 
 turned to the trappers. "But I got th' Injun what 
 got him. We buried him under that big cotton- 
 wood that stands lone-like tew th' right of th' 
 bunch. We war with Jim Bridger then an' Kit 
 Carson ; an' when Kit saw Frank all muterlated by 
 them red devils his lips came tewgether an' he 
 walked straight tew Bridger an' asks tew be allowed 
 tew go after them Injuns ; an' Bridger told him tew 
 go an' take as many trappers with him as he wanted. 
 Kit asked for volunteers, an' every last one on us 
 volunteered; but Kit picked out ten on us, an' we 
 got after them devils as fast as our horses could 
 take us. Th' next day 'bout dusk we came tew 
 whar th' Injuns war camped in a lettle valley whar 
 thar war plenty of grass an' water an' trees thirty 
 buck warriors, all in their war paint, a-gettin' ready 
 for th' scalp-dance, tew cel'brate th' takin' of a 
 white man's scalp. Reckon they didn't know Kit 
 Carson was with us, or they wouldn't have ben so 
 careless-like an' dead sartain they war safe from 
 all pursuit, leastwise they had no sentries out an' 
 we crept up close as we dared an' waited for th' 
 cel'bratin' tew begin. 
 
 "In 'bout an hour they was ready an' proper 
 excited; an' when a big buck jumps up an' begins 
 prancin' 'round, an' swingin' his scalper in one 
 
A Lonely Grave 71 
 
 hand an' a scalp in th' other that I knowed by its 
 long yeller-like ha'r, I couldn't hold my dander 
 longer, for I knowed he was th' Injun I wanted, an' 
 I pulled th' trigger, an' th' Injun whirled round an' 
 went over backwards into th' fire. 
 
 " 'Give it tew 'em, boys ! ' yelled Kit, 'bout tew 
 seconds after I shot, jest when every Injun had 
 jumped to his feet an' showed plain in th' firelight ; 
 an' ten more rifles cracked, an' ten more Injuns 
 went down, an' th' rest on 'em, screechin' like devils, 
 legged it for th' rocks, not stoppin' even tew git 
 their weapons nor hosses, with us a-yellin' after 'em. 
 
 "We got thirty good hosses, an' eleven dead In- 
 juns, an' larnt them Blackfeet a lesson; an' I had 
 th' saterfaction of puttin' Frank's scalp back on his 
 head, whar it belonged, an' burying it 'long 'with 
 him. Thar ain't a man in all th' west I'd ruther 
 have with me than Kit Carson, when it comes tew 
 Injun fittin'. He always seems tew know jest what 
 tew do at jest th' right moment, an' does it; an' 
 once on th' trail he'll never give up 'til he gits what 
 he's after. Yes, it war right under that tree whar 
 we buried Big Frank," and the trapper pointed to 
 the lone cottonwood, "an' I reckon my mark is on 
 it yit." 
 
 The camp that night was made in the "bunch" 
 of cottonwoods, not without a shiver or two on the 
 part of Rex and Dill as they thought of the trap- 
 per's story and the lonely grave under the cotton- 
 wood tree. 
 
72 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 Before it became too dark to see the two boys 
 visited the grave with the trapper, and stood with 
 uncovered heads near the little mound of grass. 
 This was what they read rudely cut in the bark of 
 the tree by the trapper's knife : 
 
 FRANK WILLIAMS 
 KILLED BI INJUNS 
 
 SEPT 10 1831 
 HE ALWAYS FIT ONEST 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE GREAT BUFFALO HUNT 
 
 T ONG before sunrise the next morning Rex and 
 *-^ Dill were up getting ready for the great buffalo 
 hunt. Neither of the boys had ever shot a buffalo ; 
 but both had read and heard innumerable stories of 
 the wild thrilling excitement felt, when the hunter 
 on his horse dashed into the midst of a herd of 
 buffalos, rushing wild with fright over the plains, 
 like a great tidal wave of bellowing horns and hoofs 
 and huge bounding bodies; and to hunt buffalos 
 on horseback had long been one of their greatest 
 ambitions, and now that it was to be gratified two 
 happier boys could not have been found anywhere. 
 Both lads had bought buffalo ponies, that is, horses 
 trained in buffalo hunting, and as each was a good 
 shot with rifle or pistol, they felt as if they cer- 
 tainly ought to be able to kill at least one buffalo 
 apiece out of so many, for, to the joy of all, the 
 morning found the valley a mile from where they 
 were encamped still covered with a multitude of 
 grazing buffalos. 
 
 "Hadn't we better take our rifles, too?" and Rex 
 turned a pair of inquiring eyes to Ham, who was 
 superintending their preparations. "A pistol looks 
 
 73 
 
74 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 like a small thing with which to kill so big an ani- 
 mal." 
 
 "No," Ham answered. "Th' guns would be in 
 your way, an' th' pistol will kill jest as quick as th' 
 rifle, if th' ball hits th' right spot. Now be sure 
 an' aim jest a leetle ahind th' fore leg, an' don't fire 
 until you're abreast an' so close you could lay your 
 hand on th' buffalo's back Then look out for 
 horns! or th' first thing you know you an' your 
 hoss will be up in th' air, th' hoss with horn holes 
 in his belly big enough to run an arm in, an' th' 
 buffalo ready to horn you up th' moment you hit 
 th' ground." 
 
 Bridles, saddles, weapons, everything that was 
 to be used in the hunt were carefully examined and 
 all the weak places made strong; for buffalo hunt- 
 ing on horseback was no child's play, and a broken 
 strap or a loose cinch might mean death on the 
 sharp horns of an enraged buffalo bull. 
 
 Captain Tom selected five men, all of them ex- 
 perienced buffalo hunters, to take part in the hunt. 
 The remaining trappers were left to guard the 
 camp, with strict injunctions to keep a constant 
 look out for Indians. They were now in a region 
 frequented by the dreaded Blackfeet, where eternal 
 vigilance alone could assure them safety; and Cap- 
 tain Tom wisely considered an ounce of precau- 
 tions better than ten pounds of fight. 
 
 By the time the sun was half an hour high all 
 were ready for the hunt. Captain Tom sat on the 
 
The Great Buffalo Hunt 75 
 
 back of Don Lucifer, with the five trappers and Rex 
 and Dill, mounted on their horses, by his side. In 
 the holsters of each rider were two large double- 
 barreled pistols. These were the only guns the 
 hunters took with them; for, as Ham said, there 
 was no need of lugging a heavy rifle in a buffalo 
 hunt, where the horse is ridden at full gallop within 
 a few feet of the running buffalo, when the pistol 
 is quite powerful enough to kill at such close range. 
 Behind them sat Pom on the back of Brimstone, an 
 old double-barreled shotgun loaded with buckshot 
 that somehow had come into his possession, held 
 across the saddle in front of him. Pom that morn- 
 ing had had a close view of a huge buffalo bull; 
 and, after that sight, nothing could induce him to 
 depend on the pistol in the coming hunt. There 
 was an anxious, yet determined look on his fat black 
 face; and he kept glancing down at the gun across 
 his saddle-bow, as if he needed the constant as- 
 surance of its presence to bolster up his courage. 
 
 The buffalos covered a widening of the valley 
 a mile or more to the north of them, and about mid- 
 way between the buffalos and the hunters was a low 
 ridge of rocks extending half-way across the valley. 
 
 Captain Tom's plan was to ride up behind this 
 ridge, so as to be out of sight of the buffalos; and 
 then from its top to sally down on the herd. At 
 the order, charge, each hunter was to ride as fast 
 as he could make his horse go straight for the herd, 
 selecting the buffalo he wished to kill as he rode 
 
76 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 and, dashing close up to its side, shoot it with his 
 pistol. 
 
 "Advance!" called Captain Tom, when all were 
 ready, and the little cavalcade of hunters started 
 on the trot for the ridge. 
 
 "Look out, nigger, or one of them bulls'll let 
 daylight through that black hide of yourn!" yelled 
 one of the trappers who had been left behind to 
 Pom. 
 
 "I heard a black crow croakin' from a dead tree 
 this mornin', an' that means thar'll be a dead nig- 
 ger afore night," warned another. 
 
 "If that old blunderbus fails tew bring down yer 
 bull, nig, jest turn Brimstone's stern tew th' buf- 
 falo, an' tickle his ribs," laughed a third. 
 
 Pom and Brimstone's buffalo hunt had been the 
 joke of the camp, and the occasion of much good- 
 natured raillery on the part of the trappers, all of 
 which the negro bore with unfailing good-humor; 
 and now that he was actually starting on the hunt, 
 each felt that the climax of the joke was about 
 reached and that somehow something very funny 
 would be sure to happen to Pom and Brimstone be- 
 fore the day's hunt was over and, as usual, Pom 
 and Brimstone did not disappoint them. 
 
 When our hunters reached the top of the ridge 
 the nearest buffalos were a hundred rods away, 
 too far for them to take any special notice of the 
 men on horseback. 
 
 "Ride slowly down toward the buffalos until they 
 
The Great Buffalo Hunt 77 
 
 take fright, then all charge," was Captain Tom's 
 brief command, as he headed Don Lucifer toward 
 the buffalos and rode slowly down the ridge, the 
 trappers spreading out to right and left of him as 
 they neared the herd. 
 
 Pom rode directly behind Rex and Dill, keeping 
 Brimstone's nose almost in contact with their 
 horses' tails, his eyes growing larger and rounder 
 and his grip on the old shotgun tighter the nearer 
 he came to the buffalos. 
 
 "Massah Rex, Massah Dill," there was the faint- 
 est perceptible tremble in Pom's voice, "if 'bout a 
 million ob dem buffafeller bulls comes a-tearin' 
 aftah Brimstone, like dey's gwine to punch his ol' 
 yeller ep-pie-der-muss full ob holes, what's dis nig- 
 gah done gwine to do to sabe Brimstone? I's only 
 got two loads in dis ol' gun, an' dar am 'bout seb- 
 enteen hundred million bufferfellers. I's done took 
 a pow'ful likin' to Brimstone, an' I done want no 
 ol' buffafeller bull's ho'ns a-pokin' 'round in his 
 a-nat-tom-in-a." 
 
 "Just follow Jim's- advice," laughed Rex, "and 
 turn Brimstone's stern to the buffalos." 
 
 "Or" 
 
 But before Dill could add his wise counsel, a 
 number of old bulls in the outskirts of the herd 
 nearest to the hunters, that had been eyeing their 
 advance uneasily for a minute or two, suddenly 
 lifted their heads, wheeled about, and, with their 
 short tails held stiffly erect, galloped off as fast as 
 
78 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 they could go; and the next instant the alarm was 
 spreading through the entire herd. 
 
 "Charge!" shouted Captain Tom, as he struck 
 Don Lucifer with his whip, and rushed after the 
 now stampeding buffalos. 
 
 Almost in an instant the great herd was in mo- 
 tion. 
 
 Never before in all their young lives had Rex and 
 Dill been as excited as they now were and no 
 wonder ! It was a tremendous sight, as if the very 
 bed of the valley itself had been suddenly endowed 
 with life, and with a million hoofs beating the hard 
 ground was thundering off. All the buffalos 
 headed in one direction away from the hunters 
 and rushed in one enormous mass straight onward, 
 bulls bellowing, cows bawling, horns rattling 
 against horns, great clouds of dust rolling upward 
 like smoke, the very ground itself rumbling and 
 quaking under that enormous weight of moving 
 life, as if in the throes of an earthquake. 
 
 This much Rex and Dill saw and heard, but in- 
 distinctly comprehended in their excitement, as 
 their fleet ponies bore them toward the herd; and 
 then they were in the midst of the buffalos, their 
 eyes blinded and their nostrils filled with dust, and 
 their ears deafened by the bellowings and the bawl- 
 ings, the clankings of horns against horns and the 
 thunders of thousands of hard hoofs hitting the 
 hard ground at the same moment. Here, in the 
 midst of this wild confusion, they lost track of 
 
The Great Buffalo Hunt ; 
 
 each other, of everybody and everything, save the 
 one animal each had singled out to be his victim. 
 
 Rex saw a powerful bull forging ahead at a tre- 
 mendous speed for so bulky an animal, and the 
 sight at once fired his blood. He forgot the warn- 
 ings of Hammer Jones, of Captain Tom, to leave 
 the bulls alone and shoot the young cows. He 
 must kill that monster, the biggest bull in sight; 
 and, with a yell, started his pony after him. 
 
 The buffalo is not built for speed like the deer ; 
 but it is astonishing sometimes to see how fast he 
 will get over the ground for a few miles ; and Rex, 
 notwithstanding his pony was an exceptionally 
 speedy little animal, at first did not appear to be 
 able to gain an inch on the bull. For a mile or two 
 they ran thus, the pony following close in the track 
 of the buffalo, but unable to overtake the bull. 
 Then they passed over a ridge and came to where 
 the ground was rougher. Here the bull did not 
 seem to be able to make as good headway or else he 
 was becoming tired, for the plucky little horse of 
 Rex now began to gain slowly, and in the course 
 of the next mile brought his rider up close to the 
 bull's panting side. 
 
 What a monster he now looked to the boy, with 
 his lion-like front of shaggy mane and dangling 
 beard, with his huge head and shoulders bounding 
 up and down as he sped over the rough ground, 
 the red tongue hanging from his open mouth, the 
 large blood-shot eyes rolling wildly backward at his 
 
With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 pursuer, and his breath coming and going in great 
 puffs that sent the foam flying from his jowls ! 
 
 Rex was now so close that he might almost have 
 laid his hand upon the great heaving back; and he 
 knew that the time for action had come, and drew 
 his pistol from its holster; but, for a moment, his 
 hand and arm trembled so that he could not take 
 aim. Then his nerves steadied and, taking quick 
 aim, he fired. 
 
 The bull gave a tremendous convulsive bound, 
 half turned to charge, and crashed to the ground, 
 his horns plowing up the dirt. The ball from 
 Rex's pistol had pierced his heart. 
 
 Rex stopped his horse, and took off his hat, and 
 swung it around his head, and stood up in his stir- 
 rups, and yelled. It was his first buffalo, and he 
 had killed it with his first ball! And then, sud- 
 denly, the yell died in his throat, the hat dropped 
 from his hand, and his eyes stared straight across 
 the body of the dead bull toward a little rise of 
 ground not twenty-five rods away, over the brow 
 of which a tall Indian, running at full speed, had 
 suddenly appeared, with a huge buffalo bull that his 
 arrow had wounded not two rods behind him. 
 The bull was gaining at every bound. In a few 
 minutes at most he would overtake the Indian; 
 and then, the horns already red, doubtless with 
 the blood of the warrior's horse, would be redder 
 still. 
 
 Rex shuddered at the sight, then suddenly his 
 
REX HAD EYES ONLY FOR THE INDIAN. 
 
The Great Buffalo Hunt 81 
 
 lips tightened, and, shouting to attract the atten- 
 tion of the Indian, he struck his horse with his 
 whip and dashed straight toward the advancing 
 Indian and buffalo. 
 
 The Indian heard the shout, saw the white boy 
 rushing to his rescue, and the sight seemed to put 
 redoubled speed into his flying legs. 
 
 Rex had no thought of his own peril. He 
 thought only of saving the life of the Indian; and 
 to do this he knew that he must get to the Indian 
 before the bull did, and if possible, get him on the 
 back of his horse in time to carry both out of the 
 way of the sharp horns. 
 
 The bull was wild with rage and pain. The 
 blood flew from his open mouth and nostrils and 
 dripped from his dangling tongue at every breath. 
 His great eyes rolled with agony and fury. All 
 this, added to his enormous lion-like front, made a 
 most terrifying spectacle. 
 
 But, fortunately, Rex had eyes only for the In- 
 dian. He saw the buffalo and noted the horrors 
 of his appearance, but indistinctly. His every 
 nerve was strained to guide his horse so as to meet 
 the Indian at exactly the right moment in exactly 
 the right way. Failure to do this might mean 
 death to both. 
 
 On sped the horse and on came the Indian and 
 the buffalo. 
 
 The bull was not ten feet behind, when Rex, 
 slacking his speed just a little, dashed in front of 
 
82 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 the Indian and reached downward as he passed to 
 grip him by the hand and to help swing him up on 
 the back of his horse. The Indian understood his 
 object; and, with a mighty bound, just as Rex was 
 passing, caught his hand, gripped the back of the 
 saddle, and swung himself up behind on the back of 
 the horse and the next instant horse and riders 
 felt as if an earthquake had struck them, as they 
 were lifted upward and hurled through the air. 
 
 Rex struck the ground a rod away from where 
 he started, but the soft grass broke his fall and he 
 leaped to his feet unhurt. The Indian was al- 
 ready on his feet, his knife, the only weapon he 
 had with him, in his hand. The horse was strug- 
 gling on the grass in the agonies of death, the head 
 of the great bull, the horns and mane covered with 
 blood, swaying above him ; and, even as the horrified 
 boy looked, the monster staggered, swayed from side 
 to side for an instant, and fell dead by the side of the 
 dead horse. 
 
 At last the Indian's arrow had done its fatal 
 work. 
 
 For a minute Rex and the Indian stood motion- 
 less, staring at the dead buffalo and the dead horse. 
 Then the Indian slipped his knife back into its sheath 
 and turned and walked slowly toward Rex. 
 
 He was unusually tall, splendidly proportioned 
 and young, only a few years older than was Rex 
 himself. In his wild race for life he had thrown 
 away every article of clothing, except his deerskin 
 
The Great Buffalo Hunt 83 
 
 leggings and his beaded moccasins. These were 
 new and richly ornamented. Three eagle feathers 
 were firmly fastened in his black hair; and around 
 the wrist of his right arm was a broad band of 
 silver. An ornamented belt around his waist sup- 
 ported his leggings and held his sheathed knife. 
 
 With a slow stately step, every motion showing 
 the lithe gracefulness of his muscular body and 
 limbs, the young Indian approached Rex. When 
 within four or five feet of the white boy, he stopped, 
 his countenance grave, but his dark eyes glowing 
 with the warmth of his feelings. His lips parted to 
 speak ; but, before a sound could come from between 
 them, over the rise of ground from behind which the 
 Indian and the buffalo had come, with a great clatter 
 of hoofs, dashed a dozen Indian warriors, their 
 plumes and blankets streaming out behind them, 
 their spear heads glistening in the bright sunlight, 
 their weapons ready in their hands. Without 
 slackening the speed of their ponies in the least they 
 rushed, like a whirlwind, straight to where Rex and 
 the young Indian stood; and, in an instant, had 
 formed a circle around the boy and the Indian, 
 bringing their ponies to a halt with a suddenness 
 that almost threw them back upon their haunches. 
 And there they sat, like bronze equestrian statues, 
 their weapons ready in their hands, their eyes glit- 
 tering with vindictive hatred, fixed on Rex. 
 
 Rex was frightened, terribly frightened, by this 
 sudden coming of the armed Indian warriors; for 
 
84 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 even his untrained eyes had sufficient skill in the 
 customs of the Indians to tell him that he was sur- 
 rounded by the dreaded Blackfeet, the implacable 
 foes of the white trapper. He knew that capture 
 by these Indians meant torture and death, unless 
 rescued. 
 
 The young Indian he was a chief, that was ap- 
 parent from his actions and the eagle feathers in 
 his hair raised the palm of his right hand and held 
 it protectingly over Rex. 
 
 "Let my white brother have no fear," he said in 
 a low musical voice. "White Otter's shield is be- 
 fore him." Then he turned to the circling warriors, 
 and, raising his voice, addressed them in his native 
 language. 
 
 Rex knew from his gestures and actions, he fre- 
 quently pointed to where the dead horse and the 
 dead buffalo bull lay, that he was telling them the 
 story of his rescue ; and, to his intense satisfaction, 
 at his words, he saw the fierce light fade from the 
 eyes of the surrounding Indians and the foreboding 
 gloom of their sullen faces lighten. For, perhaps, 
 five minutes the young chief spoke, then he stepped 
 back a couple of paces from Rex, held up his right 
 arm, and, at a gesture, the warriors, one by one, 
 rode slowly between him and Rex each pausing an 
 instant to look closely on the broad band of silver 
 encircling the upraised arm and to scrutinize 
 sharply the face of the white boy as he passed. 
 When the last warrior had thus passed, they 
 
The Great Buffalo Hunt 85 
 
 gathered together in a compact band, struck their 
 horses with their whips, and galloped off over the 
 brow of the ridge whence they had come, leaving 
 Rex again alone with the young chief. 
 
 White Otter lowered his arm, slipped the broad 
 band of silver off over his hand, and, again coming 
 close to Rex, gently took his right hand and pushed 
 the silver band over it onto his wrist. 
 
 "Let my white brother listen/' he said, still hold- 
 ing the right hand of Rex in his. "Your race and 
 my race are enemies. The hatchet can never be 
 buried long between them. The Great Spirit gave 
 the Indian this country. He gave him the buffalo, 
 the deer, the broad plains and the high mountains. 
 His camp-fires have burned here for many genera- 
 tions. The graves of his ancestors are here. It is 
 his home. The paleface come and kill our buffalo 
 and deer. They trap our beaver. They roam over 
 our plains and through our mountains, driving the 
 deer and the buffalos from our hunting-grounds. 
 They do not come at our invitation. We do not 
 want them; but, when we tell them to go, they 
 refuse. When we attempt to make them go, they 
 fight. We are not children. We are warriors 
 and men. We love our country; and, like men and 
 warriors, we will fight for our country. No, be- 
 tween the whiteman and the Indian there can be no 
 peace, so long as the whiteman comes into our coun- 
 try and refuses to go when the Indian tells him to go. 
 But you have saved the life of White Otter. White 
 
86 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 Otter will not war with you. You are his brother. 
 See, he has placed his medicine band upon your 
 arm," and the chief's eyes rested on the band of 
 silver he had placed around the wrist of Rex. "It 
 is good medicine. It will protect you in battle. 
 The arrows and the bullets of your enemies will pass 
 you by. It will tell the friends of White Otter that 
 you are his brother, and keep their knives and ar- 
 rows from doing you harm. Always wear it. It 
 is the gift of White Otter to his white brother. 
 Now we must part, or the white hunters will find 
 White Otter and slay him. Yonder is the camp of 
 my brother," and the young chief pointed in the 
 direction opposite to that in which the Indian war- 
 riors had disappeared. "White Otter's memory is 
 as long as his life. He will never forget the wild 
 bull and the swift horse and his white brother who 
 saved his life," and, without waiting for a word in 
 reply from Rex, he dropped his hand and walked 
 swiftly away; and, in a couple of minutes, had 
 passed from sight over the ridge of ground. 
 
 Rex, during all these exciting and dramatic mo- 
 ments, had stood motionless and silent what could 
 he do or say? and not until the young chief had 
 passed from sight did he really awake from his 
 trancelike condition of mind and body. Then the 
 first thing he did was to hurry to his horse. The 
 gallant little animal was dead; and by his side lay 
 the dead buffalo bull. Rex stood up and looked 
 hastily around, hoping to see some of his friends. 
 
The Great Buffalo Hunt 87 
 
 He found himself standing in a little cup-like valley, 
 perhaps a mile across ; and, so far as he could see, he 
 was the only living thing in it. He listened. He 
 could not hear a sound of the hunt. In the excite- 
 ment of the chase he had evidently wandered far 
 from the hunters and the herd of buffalos. Now 
 he must get back to his friends as soon as possible. 
 
 With a sad heart he turned to his dead horse, for 
 he had come to think a great deal of the sturdy little 
 pony that had carried him for so many weary miles, 
 and with swift hands took the bridle and the saddle 
 from the body. Then he slung the saddle and bridle 
 over his shoulder and started for camp, his mind 
 full of the strange adventure he had just expe- 
 rienced. He did not have the least idea himself 
 where the camp was; but followed the direction 
 pointed out by the young Indian chief ; and, at the 
 end of an hour's walk, came to the top of a ridge 
 from which, to his inexpressible delight, he could 
 see the little grove of cottonwoods along the river 
 bank and the white tents of the camp. 
 
 Dill, when that furious dash after the buffalos 
 began, was greatly excited. What boy would not 
 have been ? But, by the time his pony had brought 
 him through the cloud of dust that followed close 
 after the fleeing herd, he had his nerves under pretty 
 good control. When he broke into the herd, he 
 found that his trained pony had already selected a 
 young cow, and, wiser or not as venturesome as 
 Rex, he was satisfied. The cow did not prove to be 
 
88 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 very speedy, and in less than ten minutes his horse 
 had brought him alongside of her. 
 
 Dill drew one of his pistols from its holster; and, 
 just at the moment the motion of the cow's leg ex- 
 posed the bare spot of skin just back of the shoulder, 
 he took quick aim and fired. But, in the excitement 
 of the moment, he missed the fatal spot and broke 
 the cow's leg, and it took all of his four bullets to 
 kill her. 
 
 Now Dill's excitement broke loose; and he 
 shouted and yelled and swung his hat. Then he 
 leaped off his horse, and having tied him to the dead 
 buffalo's horns, examined his prize. She was fat 
 and young. 
 
 "Just right for killing," soliloquized the proud and 
 happy boy. "I wonder if Rex has done as well/' 
 and he straightened up and looked around. A hun- 
 dred rods to his right Hammer Jones was just tying 
 his horse to the horns of a dead cow. A little 
 farther on Captain Tom was racing alongside of a 
 buffalo; and, even as Dill looked, he saw him raise 
 his arm and the smoke leap from the muzzle of his 
 pistol and the cow tumble to the ground. But no 
 where could he see a sign of Rex. He ran and 
 jumped on the back of his horse, so as to widen his 
 range of vision. Still no where could he see Rex. 
 He was about to gallop to a near-by ridge, to see if 
 he could discover Rex from its summit, when he 
 saw the negro boy, Pom, hurrying toward him on 
 the back of his old yellow mule, Brimstone; and 
 
The Great Buffalo Hunt 89 
 
 the scene that now followed soon drove all thought 
 of Rex out of his head for the time being. 
 
 Pom was lashing Brimstone with his whip and 
 yelling at him at the top of his voice. Evidently 
 at the critical moment Pom's courage had failed 
 him; and now, when he knew that it would be im- 
 possible to overtake the herd, he wanted to appear 
 to be most anxious to do so. Suddenly up from the 
 grass directly in front of Brimstone, jumped a 
 young buffalo calf. Pom saw him. Here was his 
 opportunity to distinguish himself, and to capture 
 his buffalo alive. With a yell and a jerk he brought 
 Brimstone to a halt, slipped off his back and quickly 
 tied him to a small bush. 
 
 The calf had run only a few rods, and now stood 
 looking curiously at Pom and Brimstone. 
 
 The negro boy had heard the trappers say, that, 
 if you would hold your hands over the eyes of a 
 buffalo calf and breathe a few strong breaths into 
 his nostrils, the little animal would follow you any- 
 where; and at this important moment Pom re- 
 membered this bit of wisdom, and determined to act 
 on it. But first he must catch the calf. However, 
 Pom had caught many common calves, big ones, and 
 he did not fancy that this little buffalo calf would 
 give him much trouble, so he started valiantly to- 
 ward him. 
 
 "So-bossy! So-bossy!" Pom called soothingly, 
 as he advanced, having laid down his gun to show 
 his peaceable intentions. 
 
go With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 The calf stretched out his nose toward him, 
 sniffed the air and stood still. 
 
 "So-bossy! Come bossy! Dis niggah ain't 
 gwine to hurt yo'," he continued to call, as he slowly 
 drew nearer to the calf. "So-bossy! Come bossy! 
 Come to yo' HI honey boy !" 
 
 And the calf came on the jump, his head 
 lowered. 
 
 "Golly !" and Pom turned and started on the run 
 for Brimstone; but, before he had taken two steps, 
 the head of the calf landed, and down he went 
 sprawling on his fat belly. 
 
 Pom yelled and attempted to scramble to his feet; 
 but, just as he got in the best position, the calf landed 
 again, and again Pom went down. This time his 
 yell was louder. For a minute Pom lay still, then 
 he cautiously began to rise, and had just got onto 
 his feet when the calf's head struck and toppled him 
 over once more. Pom now lay still and yelled for 
 help. The buffalo calf stood about a rod from 
 where he lay, just far enough to give him a good 
 start, and watched him closely. He was not going 
 to let that big black round thing that yelled so curi- 
 ously get away from him. 
 
 During these little preliminaries Dill had galloped 
 up to within a few rods of where this unique contest 
 was taking place, and now sat on his horse watch- 
 ing Pom and the buffalo calf and laughing so that 
 he could scarcely keep his seat in his saddle. Ham- 
 mer Jones and a couple of the other trappers had 
 
The Great Buffalo Hunt 91 
 
 also joined the audience, while Captain Tom was 
 hurrying thither as fast as his horse could take him. 
 So Pom was not to lack witnesses in his efforts to 
 distinguish himself. 
 
 For two minutes Pom did not move a muscle, ex- 
 cept the muscles of his tongue and lungs, then he 
 began very cautiously to raise his head. He caught 
 sight of Hammer Jones. 
 
 "Shoot de debbel! Shoot de little hunchback 
 debbel!" he yelled. "Shoot him, fo' he done br'ak 
 ebbery bone in mah skeleton." 
 
 "Shucks, Pom," laughed Ham, "you don't want 
 to shoot that pretty leetle feller. Jest catch him an' 
 breathe in his nostrils, an' he'll foller you like a leetle 
 lamb." 
 
 "Breve in his nostrils! Breve in dat little 
 debble's nostrils ! Fo' de lub ob hebben, shoot him 
 Massah Ham O-O Ouch !" 
 
 In the eagerness of his appeal Pom had half risen 
 to his feet. That was all the buffalo calf needed, 
 and, with a thud that sounded like a football hitting 
 the side of a barn, the hairy head struck and Pom 
 was sent sprawling on the grass, with all the breath 
 knocked out of his body for the moment. 
 
 "Grab him 'round th' neck, when he bunts !" yelled 
 one of the delighted trappers. 
 
 "Catch him by th' hind leg an' throw him an' set 
 on him," advised another. 
 
 "Get your gun and shoot him," called Captain 
 Tom, who had just ridden up. 
 
92 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 "Massah Tom ! Massah Captain Tom !" screamed 
 the now thoroughly terrified negro boy, lying flat 
 on his belly and hardly daring to raise his head an 
 inch. "Fo' de lub ob de good Lo'd kill dat little 
 black debble, fo' he done knocks mah spinal menin- 
 getus t'ro' mah essopagus. I's most kilt now/' and 
 his voice ended in a loud and prolonged wail. 
 
 This was too much for one of the trappers and he 
 tumbled off his horse and rolled on the grass and 
 yelled and guffawed like a lunatic. Even Captain 
 Tom had hard work to keep in his saddle. Surely 
 Pom was distinguishing himself in a most unusual 
 manner. 
 
 All this noise and motion attracted the attention 
 of the buffalo calf, and, for a moment, drew his eyes 
 away from his victim. He even turned and trotted 
 away for a rod or two. 
 
 "Quick! Now is your chance," yelled Dill. 
 "Get your gun and shoot him. He's running 
 away." 
 
 "Hurry!" shouted Ham, "an' catch him, or he'll 
 git away." 
 
 "You've got him runnin' now, nig. After him !" 
 cried Captain Tom. 
 
 Thus urged, Pom cautiously raised his head, saw 
 that his enemy had moved off a couple of rods or 
 more and was standing with his back toward him ; 
 and, doubtless thinking that he was secure now, a 
 portion of his courage came back, and, jumping to 
 his feet, he yelled : "I's done gwine to fix yo' now, 
 
The Great Buffalo Hunt 93 
 
 yo' little black debbel," and started on the run for 
 the spot where he had laid his double-barreled shot- 
 gun. 
 
 But the buffalo calf was still on his job; and, 
 whirling swiftly about, he started for Pom, like a 
 live battering-ram. 
 
 Pom saw him coming, and let out a yell that 
 nearly split his throat, and made his legs go, as if he 
 surely thought the devil were after him. He 
 reached the spot where he had left his gun ; but, just 
 at the critical instant when he bent over to grab it 
 up from the ground, the calf's head arrived, and 
 Pom departed with a suddenness that landed him 
 headfirst on the grass ten feet away, the gun tightly 
 gripped in one of his clenched hands. 
 
 How Captain Tom and the trappers and Dill did 
 laugh! They knew that Pom was in no real 
 danger; but the looks on his fat face and the antics 
 of his fat body, when the calf's head struck him, 
 were so comical, that, even if they had known that 
 he was in instant peril of his life they could not have 
 helped laughing. 
 
 Pom, however, did not laugh he yelled, with all 
 the strength of his lungs. Then he felt the gun in 
 his hand, which fortunately had not been damaged 
 nor discharged by its rough usage, and again some 
 of his courage came back, and once more he cau- 
 tiously raised his head to get a sight of his enemy. 
 
 The buffalo calf had backed off a couple of rods 
 and again had turned his head to look curiously at 
 
94 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 the antics of the wildly hilarious trappers, who were 
 acting more like crazy men than veterans of the 
 plains. 
 
 Pom slowly got up on his knees, a look of grim 
 determination on his fat face and the fires of a des- 
 perate resolve in his eyes. He had his beloved gun 
 in his hand, and now he would kill the calf and be 
 revenged for all the indignities the little animal had 
 butted upon him. Still he would not venture to 
 shoot until he could do so from the safe vantage of 
 Brimstone's back; and, suddenly jumping to his 
 feet, he made a rush for the mule. Fortunately 
 Brimstone was now only about ten feet away, and 
 Pom reached his side and scrambled up on his back 
 before the calf could get to him. 
 
 The moment Pom was in his saddle, all his cour- 
 age and assurance returned, while his wrath against 
 the buffalo calf flamed into a fervent heat. 
 
 "Yo' yo' scan'lous, no-'count, low-down, good- 
 f o'-nothin', hunchbacked skinful ob buttin' obnickity, 
 yo' yo'll butt dis niggah all ober de plains, will yo' ? 
 Now I's gwine to fix yo', so yo' won't do no mo' 
 buttin'," and Pom raised his shotgun to his shoulder, 
 took aim at the calf that now stood some two rods 
 away eying him wonderingly, and, in his excitement, 
 pulled both triggers. 
 
 The two barrels of the old gun went off with a 
 tremendous bang so did Pom, off the back of the 
 mule, fortunately landing on his head, while the 
 smoking gun flew from his outspread hands and 
 
The Great Buffalo Hunt 95 
 
 struck the ground a half-dozen yards or more away 
 from Pom's landing-place. 
 
 The buffalo calf, with a frightened bleat, whirled 
 about, and, with its little short tail held stiffly erect, 
 galloped off in the direction taken by the herd, un- 
 harmed by Pom's gun. 
 
 "Let him go," laughed Captain Tom, when one of 
 the trappers made a motion to raise his rifle to shoot 
 the calf. "He deserves his freedom for the fun he 
 has given us." And the calf was allowed to gallop 
 off unharmed. 
 
 Pom lay on the ground for a moment, then he 
 slowly got on his feet and began gingerly feeling 
 of the different parts of his body, as if he expected 
 to find every bone broken, the expression on his fat 
 black face seeming to indicate that he really did not 
 know yet whether he was dead or alive, but was just 
 beginning to have suspicions that he might still be 
 in the land of the living. Presently a look of re- 
 lief swept over his countenance and he straight- 
 ened up. 
 
 "Golly !" he cried, his delight shining all over his 
 rotund face. "Dis niggah's bones sart'nly am made 
 ob mighty good subsistunces. I done thought eb- 
 bery one ob dem cracked fo' sho'. Now," and he 
 looked proudly around, just as Dill and his trapper 
 friends galloped up, "whar am dat dead buffafeller 
 calf?" 
 
 "Gone too find his ma," grinned Hammer Jones. 
 "You sartainly did scare him, Pom." 
 
96 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 "Scare!" and Pom's eyes widened until they 
 looked like white marbles. "I done blowed a hole 
 t'ro' him big 'nuf fo' Brimstone to walk t'ro'. I 
 done seed his intestimals flyin' all ober 'fo' 'fo' I 
 got off Brimstone." 
 
 "And they are still flying," chuckled Captain 
 Tom. "There they go over the ridge," and he 
 pointed to where the buffalo calf was just passing 
 over the top of a ridge. 
 
 For a moment Pom stared at the running calf, as 
 if he could not believe the evidence of his own eyes, 
 then he glared at the gun lying on the ground. 
 
 "Den dat dar no-'count gun not kill dat dar 
 buntin' buffafeller calf aftah he's done butted dis 
 niggah all ober cr'ation?" he queried. "Jes' wal- 
 loped me off mah mule an' nebber done hurted dat 
 little black buntin' debbel !" and a look of unspeak- 
 able disgust swept swiftly over the black face. "I 
 nebber wants to see dat no-'count gun no mo'," and, 
 leaving the gun where it lay, Pom hastily mounted 
 Brimstone and started back for camp, not even 
 deigning to turn in his saddle in answer to the good- 
 natured jeers and amusing suggestions of the trap- 
 pers. 
 
 That night all feasted on buffalo steaks, and hot 
 marrow fresh from the bones, and the choicest cuts 
 from the hump-ribs, and the tongue, and the other 
 buffalo tidbits, according to taste and fancy; and 
 never had Rex and Dill enjoyed a meal as they did 
 that one, cooked over their own camp-fires. Ham 
 
The Great Buffalo Hunt 97 
 
 showed them how to split the marrow bones with an 
 ax, so that one side would come off like the lid of 
 a box, exposing the long white roll of unbroken 
 marrow, steaming hot and more delicious to their 
 taste than anything they had ever eaten before. 
 
 After all had feasted to their stomachs' content, 
 or, possibly, discontent, they gathered around the 
 camp-fires ; and there, for the first time, Rex related 
 at length his adventures with the two buffalo bulls 
 and the Indians and showed the broad band of silver 
 White Otter had placed around his wrist. There 
 were a number of rudely engraved figures on the 
 bracelet, evidently meant to represent an otter, an 
 eagle and a beaver. These looked as if they had 
 been cut into the silver with a knife, probably in the 
 hands of its Indian owner. 
 
 Rex had hardly finished his narrative the trap- 
 pers were still examining the bracelet and comment- 
 ing on his adventure, when all were startled by a 
 distant loud halloo; and they saw, on the top of a 
 near-by hill, standing out distinctly in the red light 
 of early evening, an unarmed Indian sitting statues- 
 que on his horse and holding aloft a piece of white 
 buckskin in token of the peacefulness of his mission. 
 By the side of the Indian's horse stood another 
 horse, with a coat as white as the snow when it first 
 touches the ground and a beautiful long mane and 
 tail. Even from where they stood the boys could 
 see that this was one of the most splendidly formed 
 horses they had ever seen. The horse was 
 
98 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 riderless, but was held by a buckskin rope in the 
 hands of the Indian on horseback. 
 
 Captain Tom at once laid down his rifle, walked 
 a couple of rods toward the Indian, and made signs 
 for him to advance. 
 
 The Indian now rode slowly toward the camp, 
 leading the white horse. 
 
 "Oh, what a beautiful horse !" exclaimed Rex as 
 the Indian drew near. "I'd give 'most anything to 
 own such a horse as that. Just see what a splendid 
 chest and neck and head and limbs he has. I did 
 not suppose Indians ever owned such fine horses." 
 
 "A Blackfoot, as sure as I am a sinner," declared 
 Ham, who stood by the side of Rex and Dill. 
 "What on earth can he want with us, unless it's our 
 scalps ! Say, but it's a down right sin for an Ingine 
 tew have a hoss like that," and his admiring eyes 
 rested on the beautiful white horse the Indian was 
 leading. 
 
 In the meantime the Indian had reached the spot 
 where Captain Tom stood awaiting him. For some 
 five minutes the two talked together, then the Indian 
 passed the rope that held the white horse to Captain 
 Tom, sat up straight in his saddle and for a full 
 minute calmly surveyed the staring trappers, turned 
 his horse around and rode slowly away, not deign- 
 ing to give one backward glance. 
 
 "See," cried Dill, "he has left the white horse with 
 Captain Tom! I wonder if he has bought him!" 
 
 "I hope so," Rex answered ; "because then maybe 
 
The Great Buffalo Hunt 99 
 
 Captain Tom would let me ride him sometimes. It 
 must be great to feel such a horse under one." 
 
 Captain Tom, with a broad grin on his face and 
 leading the white horse, approached the spot where 
 Rex and Dill stood. 
 
 "From White Otter to his white brother, who 
 saved him from the horns of the mad bull, and lost 
 his own horse in doing it," he said, placing the lead- 
 rope of the white horse into the hand of Rex. 
 "Leastwise that's what I made out of the lingo of 
 the chief. And a right royal gift I call it," and 
 Captain Tom's eyes rested admiringly on the horse. 
 
 "For me!" Rex cried, his astonishment and de- 
 light almost overpowering him. "This beautiful 
 horse for me!" and, in the exuberance of his joy, he 
 threw both arms around the glossy neck of the 
 animal. 
 
 The horse neighed softly and rubbed his nose 
 gently against Rex, as if he were trying to make 
 him understand that he was glad the boy was to be 
 his master. 
 
 "Did the Indian tell you what his name was?" 
 inquired the delighted boy, his arms still around the 
 white neck. 
 
 "White Cloud, if I understood the chief aright," 
 replied Captain Tom. "Seems to fit good, too ; for I 
 fancy he'll look 'bout like a cloud of white soaring 
 just above the ground, when he's running. You 
 ain't wanting to sell the animal ? I " 
 
 "Sell him! Sell White Cloud! No, sir; NO," 
 
ioo With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 and the arms of Rex hugged the glossy neck tighter 
 than ever. "I I would not sell White Cloud for 
 all the money in the world. Oh, but isn't he a little 
 beauty! I must, I must have a little ride on him 
 to-night. Here, you hold him, Dill, while I get the 
 saddle and the bridle," and the happy boy, handing 
 the rope to Dill, ran to where his saddle and bridle 
 lay, and, hurrying back, soon had them on the horse, 
 and, in another moment was astride the beautiful 
 animal. 
 
 For fifteen minutes or more Rex galloped and 
 trotted and raced and ran White Cloud, circling 
 about on the little plain in front of the cottonwoods ; 
 and, when he trotted back into camp and dis- 
 mounted, he was satisfied that there was not another 
 as speedy nor as beautiful nor as easy a riding horse 
 in all America as White Cloud, the gift of his Indian 
 brother, the young Blackfoot chief, White Otter. 
 
 That night the camp was double-guarded; for 
 now they were in the Blackfeet country, and their 
 next encounter with these dreaded Indians might 
 not end as favorably as had the adventure of Rex. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE STAMPEDE 
 
 OUR friends were now in the country of the 
 beaver; but, before beginning trapping opera- 
 tions, it was decided to spend three or four days in 
 their present camp, curing and drying the meat of 
 the buffalos they had already killed and the others 
 that they expected to kill. They might not have 
 another opportunity to get buffalo meat, since the 
 buffalo was not apt to be found, at least not in great 
 numbers, in the mountainous regions where they ex- 
 pected their trapping would take them ; and Captain 
 Tom believed in making hay while the sun shone. 
 Accordingly, the next day, Captain Tom, with 
 three of the trappers, continued the buffalo hunt, 
 while the others, under the charge of Hammer 
 Jones, built scaffolds, cut up the meat of the buf- 
 falos already killed into narrow strips and hung 
 it on poles laid across the scaffolds. Then fires 
 were kindled underneath the suspended meat ; and 
 thus the narrow strips were dried and smoked until 
 they were sufficiently cured to preserve them almost 
 indefinitely, and could be packed on their mules and 
 taken with them, to be eaten when fresh meat could 
 not be obtained. 
 
 101 
 
iO2 ''Wir.b''Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 Rex and Dill remained in camp to help with the 
 meat jerking; and very hard and hot and smoky 
 work they found it; but the antics of Pom and the 
 doings of the grizzly bear cub, Buster, who had be- 
 come as tame as a dog and a hundred times more 
 mischievous, kept them all good-natured, and the 
 time passed very rapidly. 
 
 By the evening of the third day they had sufficient 
 buffalo meat jerked, and it was decided to break 
 camp the next morning and travel up the Platte un- 
 til they came to the mouth of the Sweetwater, which 
 Captain Tom calculated was about a two days' 
 journey from where they were. 
 
 They had seen nothing more of White Otter and 
 his band of Indians. Indeed, Captain Tom knew 
 Indian nature well enough to know that they had 
 little to fear from this band, since the rescue of their 
 chief by Rex; but there might be other parties of 
 Blackfeet, who would like nothing better than to 
 steal every horse and mule they had, except to get 
 the scalps of their owners, and, consequently the 
 trappers had not dared to relax their vigilance in the 
 least. Each night, as soon as it became dark, every 
 horse and mule was picketed within a few feet of 
 where the trappers were to sleep and then short- 
 hobbled, so that in case of an attempted stampede by 
 the Indians the animals could not be driven away, 
 even if they should break loose from their pickets. 
 Rex would not run even this slight risk with White 
 Cloud, and drove the picket that held him inside the 
 
The Stampede 103 
 
 tent, within a foot of the spot where his head rested 
 when he slept. Then he tied the pommel of his 
 saddle by a short deerskin thong to the picket ; and, 
 as he used his saddle for a pillow, the picket could 
 not be pulled out of the ground without disturbing 
 his head sufficiently to awaken him. In addition to 
 these precautions four men were always on guard 
 during the dark hours of the night. 
 
 Of course Rex and Dill had to do their share of 
 this guard-duty ; and, on this last night in the camp 
 in the cottonwoods, it so happened that both boys 
 went on duty for the last three hours of the watch, 
 or from about two o'clock in the morning until day- 
 light the most dangerous period of the entire 
 watch, for Indians will seldom make an attack dur- 
 ing the darkness of the night, but will wait until the 
 early light of morning begins to appear. Captain 
 Tom and Hammer Jones were their comrades of the 
 guard. 
 
 The grove of cottonwoods was small, only a little 
 circular clump of trees, perhaps five rods across, 
 growing on the bank of the Platte, and surrounded 
 on all sides by an open prairie. The four guards 
 were so placed around this little grove that their eyes 
 could command the entire surrounding country, and 
 it would take a cunning Indian indeed who could 
 creep up unseen by their watchful eyes. They did 
 not expose themselves, but each carefully concealed 
 himself in the dark shadows of a tree where he 
 could watch without being seen. 
 
IO4 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 "Now, boys," Captain Tom said, when the two 
 lads stood ready to go on guard, "be sure and keep 
 your eyes wide open all the time. It's going to be 
 right dark just afore daylight, and that's the time 
 to look out for the Blackf eet. Don't hesitate an in- 
 stant to shoot at anything that looks wrong coming 
 toward camp. Ham and I will take the two ends, 
 and you boys can watch the sides. Come on," and 
 they started to the relief of the old guard. 
 
 Dill was stationed on the river side of the grove, 
 and Rex on the side facing the plains. 
 
 "Seen anything suspicious?" Captain Tom asked 
 of each guard as he was relieved. 
 
 "Nothin'," was the answer of each, until they 
 came to the trapper whose place Rex was to take. 
 
 "Thar's bin half a dozen coyotes a-sticken their 
 heads over th' top of yonder ridge," this man an- 
 swered, pointing to a low ridge that showed dimly 
 some twenty rods from where they stood. "But 
 I reckon they 's all the real thing, leastwise I could- 
 n't make nothin' else out of 'em. Thought I'd jest 
 mention it." 
 
 Captain Tom stood for two or three minutes, his 
 eyes fixed on the ridge. A couple of coyotes ap- 
 peared on its top, and one of them squatted down 
 on his haunches and began to howl. Captain Tom 
 listened for a moment, and then smiled. 
 
 "I'd take my oath that that's the real critter," he 
 said, as the unearthly gibberish of shrill sounds 
 ended in a burst of imp-like laughter. "Not even 
 
The Stampede 105 
 
 an Indian could make a noise like that, only that 
 devil-beast. But keep your eyes on the ridge, be- 
 cause that's 'bout the likeliest place from which to 
 make a stampede," he cautioned Rex, as he departed 
 for his own station, leaving the boy alone. 
 
 Rex stood in the dark shadows of a thick-leaved 
 cottonwood, close to its trunk. He could see the 
 surrounding plain and the top of the ridge quite 
 clearly, for the moon, now nearing the western hor- 
 izon, still gave considerable light. But, in the 
 course of an hour, the moon would be gone, and then 
 there would be only the stars to lighten the scene. 
 
 For a long time Rex kept his eyes steadfastly on 
 the top of that ridge. If that was where the Indians 
 were most likely to come from, he did not wish to 
 be caught napping. But the hours passed and the 
 moon went down, and still nothing suspicious, not 
 even a coyote, had Rex seen or heard. Another 
 hour went by. It was now so dark that the boy 
 could see nothing distinctly on the ridge top, strain 
 his eyes as he might. Once or twice he thought he 
 could distinguish the moving of a dark huddled 
 cloud-like mass along the ridge summit, but the next 
 moment it would melt into the surrounding dark- 
 ness. Once also there came to him a muffled sound, 
 like the very distant murmurs of the voices of men 
 talking, but, when he listened intently, this, too, 
 seemed to be a thing of his imagination. 
 
 At last the first light of early morning began to 
 appear, and Rex breathed easier. Now he could 
 
io6 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 even see the shadowy outlines of the small trees that 
 stood on the ridge top "But," and, at the thought, 
 Rex straightened up from the tree trunk against 
 which he had been leaning with a sudden jerk, "how 
 came the trees there! There had been none there 
 the night before." 
 
 He rubbed his eyes and looked. Yes, there cer- 
 tainly were trees there now, standing a little higher 
 than a man and huddled quite closely together. In 
 the clearer light of the advancing morning he could 
 see them quite distinctly. 
 
 What could it mean ? How came they there ! 
 
 How how was that? Trees do not move fall 
 to the ground gallop off on horseback ! 
 
 "Indians ! Indians !" and the startled boy threw 
 his rifle to his shoulder and fired at the mass of 
 mounted warriors that now burst forth from behind 
 the discarded tree tops and poured down the side of 
 the ridge, straight toward the spot where he stood. 
 
 "Indians ! Indians !" yelled Captain Tom and Ham 
 almost in the same breath, firing their rifles. 
 
 The next instant it sounded as if all the demons 
 of pandemonium had broken loose, as, firing the few 
 guns they had, yelling at the top of their voices and 
 swinging their blankets around their heads, the hun- 
 dred or more Indians swept, like a hurricane, down 
 on the little grove of cottonwoods. 
 
 "The horses! Guard the horses and mules!" 
 shouted Captain Tom. "It is only a stampede," and 
 
The Stampede 107 
 
 he ran to where the animals were corralled in a little 
 opening in the grove about two rods from the tents. 
 
 Almost on the instant the cry of "Indians! 
 Indians !" and the rifle shots rang out, every trapper 
 leaped to his feet, his rifle ready in his- hands. 
 There was no confusion, no panic. They knew 
 exactly what that cry, followed by the shots and yells 
 of the savages and the rapid thuds of their horses' 
 hoofs, meant. They had often heard it before, and 
 each one knew exactly what to do get to the horses 
 and mules as quickly as possible, so as to prevent any 
 of them escaping, and then get in as many shots as 
 they could at the Indians. 
 
 Rex, after he had shouted his warning and fired 
 his gun, stood, for a moment, stock-still, his eyes 
 fixed on that yelling charging horde of savages, his 
 senses fascinated by the fearful sight and his blood 
 curdling with the chill of those dreadful yells ; then 
 the thought of White Cloud's peril came and he 
 leaped toward his tent. He was just in time to see 
 a naked dripping body slip up out of the water of the 
 river, and leap, knife in hand, toward the spot where 
 White Cloud was plunging at the end of his picket- 
 line. His own rifle was empty, and the Indian 
 would get to White Cloud before he could possibly 
 get to the Indian. All the trappers had rushed to 
 where the horses and mules were picketed ; and, in 
 the confusion and excitement, not one of them saw 
 the peril of White Cloud. The Indian had only to 
 
io8 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 cut the hobbles and the picket-line, spring on the 
 horse's back and gallop off, safe from pursuit, for 
 what horse could overtake White Cloud? 
 
 In the first glance Rex saw all this, and yelled at 
 the top of his voice, and strained every muscle to 
 reach White Cloud in time to save him from the 
 Indian ; but he was too late. With a yell of triumph 
 the Indian bounded to the side of White Cloud, with 
 one stroke his keen knife flashed through the hob- 
 bles, and he turned to cut the picket-line, when there 
 came a savage growl from almost under his feet, 
 and the next instant he felt the sharp teeth of some 
 animal buried in the calf of his right leg. 
 
 The Indian yelled with pain and fright, glanced 
 down, saw that it was a grizzly bear that had hold of 
 him, and, with another yell of mortal terror, tore 
 himself free from Buster's teeth, plunged down the 
 bank, splashed into the river, and was gone. Doubt- 
 less the grizzly cub had looked much larger to his 
 terrified eyes than he really was. A moment later 
 Rex's arms were around the neck of White Cloud, 
 and with voice and caress he was quieting the 
 frightened animal. 
 
 During these moments the trappers had been hav- 
 ing an exciting time with the horses and mules. 
 Some of the terrified animals had broken loose from 
 their pickets, but their hobbles prevented them from 
 escaping; and all were plunging and kicking and 
 struggling madly to be off, away from those yelling 
 fiends with the great flapping wings. 
 
The Stampede 109 
 
 Like a whirlwind the yelling Indians charged to 
 within a few rods of the struggling animals, then 
 turned and swept by; and, in less time than it has 
 taken to describe these happenings, they had disap- 
 peared completely into the gloom of the still early 
 morning. 
 
 The trappers had fired one volley, but without 
 hitting an Indian so far as could be seen ; and then 
 had been obliged to give all their attention to the 
 horses and mules. Buster, apparently, had carried 
 off all the honors, he being the only one to draw the 
 enemy's blood. 
 
 Not an animal had escaped, but one of the mules 
 had broken his leg and had to be shot to put him 
 out of his misery. 
 
 When Rex told his story of how narrowly White 
 Cloud had missed being captured, Captain Tom 
 looked sober. 
 
 "You'll have to keep a mighty close eye on that 
 animal all through the Indian country, my boy," he 
 said. "A Blackfoot or an Apache would^go almost 
 to hell to get a-hold of such a horse. Evidently 
 this here stampede was planned mostly on purpose 
 to give that Indian a chance to capture White 
 Cloud. 'Twas a mighty cunning trick and daring 
 for an Indian. Bully for Buster! You can fill 
 his belly as full of buffalo steak as it will hold this 
 morning. I reckon that's the kind of appreciation 
 that he'll appreciate most." 
 
 There was no more sleeping that morning. As 
 
no With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 quickly as possible breakfast was eaten you may 
 be sure Buster's steak was not forgotten the mules 
 were packed and the start for the Sweetwater was 
 made. Captain Tom, now that he knew a large band 
 of hostile Blackfeet was near, did not wish to linger 
 in that locality a minute longer than was necessary. 
 Three scouts were sent out in advance of the little 
 party, and every precaution taken to guard against 
 surprise or ambuscade. Thus they journeyed all 
 day up the valley of the North Platte ; and at night 
 camped on the summit of a small hill in the midst 
 of a wide plain, where it would be impossible for 
 their cunning enemies to creep upon them unawares. 
 
 During the day they had seen many signs, which, 
 to eyes as experienced as theirs, told that the Black- 
 feet were watching them closely. Sometimes a 
 solitary Indian warrior would appear on a distant 
 hilltop, sit for a moment motionless on his horse's 
 back, his eyes scanning the little band of trappers; 
 then he would wheel his horse and disappear behind 
 the hill. ' Again the puffs of a distant signal-smoke 
 would be seen rising upward through the clear air, 
 to be answered, possibly, a few minutes later by 
 another similar column of smoke miles away. 
 
 However, the night passed without any alarms. 
 Doubtless the Indians were not in sufficiently large 
 numbers to attack the trappers themselves, and, after 
 their experience of the night before, they did not 
 care to attempt another stampede, where there were 
 so many watchful eyes behind so many long- 
 
The Stampede in 
 
 barreled rifles, and so were content to watch them 
 from a distance and to warn other Indians of their 
 coming. 
 
 The next day they saw thousands of buffalos, 
 sometimes literally covering the valley of the Platte 
 from ridge to ridge; but no one was allowed to kill 
 any. Captain Tom was too anxious to get out of 
 the region of the hostile Blackfeet to delay the train 
 a moment to kill buffalo. They also saw antelope 
 and deer and a couple of grizzly bears; but not a 
 gun was fired at any of them. All day they 
 marched as fast as the pack-mules could go, 
 stopping only a half hour at noon ; and a little before 
 sundown, to the satisfaction of all, they reached the 
 mouth of the Sweetwater and went into camp for 
 the night. 
 
 Since early morning they had not seen a sign of 
 an Indian, and it was the opinion of all that that 
 particular band of Blackfeet had, at last, given up 
 the chase; but there might be other bands near, so 
 that they did not dare to relax their vigilance in 
 the least. 
 
 "Better tie them kinks of wool tew th' top of yer 
 head," was Ham's parting advice to Pom, as the 
 negro boy prepared to roll himself up in his blanket 
 for the night in front of the boys' tent, "or one of 
 them Ingines will git yer scalp while yer sound 
 asleep." 
 
 "Golly, dat am so!" and Pom's face lengthened 
 and sobered, then it suddenly brightened, as his 
 
ii2 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 eyes caught sight of a round iron frying-pan that 
 had been hung up on a tree to dry. "I's gwine to 
 fix um, so dat no scan'lous red mans gits his 
 finggahs into dis niggah's wool," and, to the intense 
 amusement of all, the negro clapped the frying-pan 
 over the top of his head and proceeded to tie it there 
 with thongs of deerskin, the handle projecting out 
 in front like the beak of a bird ; and then, with his 
 precious kinks guarded by this unique protector, he 
 rolled himself up in his blanket, to sleep the sleep 
 of the frying-pan-protected. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 IN THE BEAVER COUNTRY 
 
 C ORTUNATELY Pom had no use for his fry- 
 ing-pan protector that night, the hours of 
 darkness passing without a suspicious sound to 
 disturb the slumbers of our little band of trappers, 
 and the morning dawning clear and cold. It was 
 now past the middle of September, and in that 
 altitude the nights were chilly with the approaching 
 winter, although the days were still warmed with 
 the heat of a hot sun. 
 
 "Git ready for beavers, boys," was Ham's greet- 
 ing on this morning, as Rex and Dill came out of 
 their tent just as the first rays of the morning's sun 
 shone down on the little encampment. "We're 
 goin' up-stream a few miles tew where Goose Creek 
 comes in, an' ithen we're goin' tew try our luck. 
 Twas a mighty good beaver country thereabouts 
 th' last time Captain Tom was here, some three 
 years ago, an' he reckons he knows where tew find 
 th' beaver now." 
 
 This was good news to Rex and Dill. Ever 
 since leaving Santa Fe they had been listening to 
 beaver stories marvelous tales of the habits and 
 the remarkable instinct, intelligence some would 
 
114 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 call it, of these wonderful little animals, that played 
 such an important part in the finding of the west ; 
 and both boys were eager to study the beaver in his 
 own home and to pit their wits against his in their 
 efforts to secure his valuable fur. 
 
 Did you ever stop to think how much the West 
 owes to the presence of the beaver, to the fact that 
 its fur was sufficiently valuable to lure men away 
 from all the comforts of civilization into the most 
 hidden fastnesses of the then Great Unknown 
 Wilderness west of the Missouri? In his search 
 for the beaver the dauntless trapper went every- 
 where, where he thought there was a possibility of 
 finding beavers. He traversed the great plains in 
 all directions and explored all the streams and 
 valleys of the mountains. On his return to the 
 trading-post, loaded with furs, he told of his ex- 
 periences, described the regions where he had been 
 and compared data with other trappers. Thus, 
 gradually, something of the vastness, the wonder- 
 ful richness, the grandeur of the scenery, the 
 mystery and romance of the mountains, the marvels 
 of this new Western World, spread eastward, in- 
 spiring men like Pike, Long and Fremont, to come 
 and see for themselves and to mark out for others 
 the way to the West. But these men did not find 
 the West. The trappers had already found it. 
 Guided by trappers they explored scientifically and 
 made known the results of their explorations of the 
 world. In the slow march of civilization across the 
 
In the Beaver Country 115 
 
 continent westward from the Missouri, the trapper 
 came first; and he came because of the beaver. 
 Thus you can see how important was the part 
 played by this little animal in bringing the white 
 man into the West; and an unfortunate part it 
 proved for him, for, alas! it meant his practical 
 extinction. 
 
 But, of course Rex and Dill and their companions 
 did no philosophizing of this nature. They were 
 there for the fur on the back of the beaver, not to 
 philosophize, and had not the slightest idea of the 
 important page they were helping to write in the 
 history of their country. 
 
 That was a rush morning in camp. Everything 
 was done as speedily as possible; for the trappers 
 were almost as eager as were the boys themselves 
 to get their traps out and set for the wily little 
 animal. A half hour after sunrise found them 
 hurrying on their way up the Sweetwater, an hour 
 later they had reached the mouth of Goose Creek, 
 and in another half hour they had come to where 
 Goose Creek widened out into a small pond, sur- 
 rounded by a beautiful little valley set in the midst 
 of encircling mountains. 
 
 "Here is where we camp/' Captain Tom cried, 
 jumping off the back of Don Lucifer. "We'll pitch 
 our tents on the top of that little knoll by the side of 
 the big rock," and he pointed to a huge rock a couple 
 of rods away that jutted up out of the level ground 
 of the valley thirty or more feet into the air. 
 
n6 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 'There's a spring of the best water I ever drank 
 at the base of the rock; and, unless my eyesight is 
 failing me, we won't have far to go to find beaver," 
 and he glanced to where the dome-like tops of a 
 number of beaver houses showed above the waters 
 of the pond. 
 
 In a moment all hands were busy. The packs 
 were taken off the backs of the mules, the two tents 
 were pitched, the horses and mules were picketed 
 and hobbled knee-deep in the rich grass of the 
 valley; and then everybody, except the two men 
 who had been stationed at suitable points to guard 
 the encampment, got out their traps and began care- 
 fully examining them and everything needed in 
 trapping the beaver. 
 
 Rex and Dill had brought five traps each with 
 them. Hammer Jones had promised to show them 
 how to set their traps and to initiate them into all 
 the mysteries of beaver trapping. Now they got 
 out these traps, tested the strength of their springs 
 and chains, and prepared for the first practical 
 lesson in trapping. But, to their great disappoint- 
 ment, Captain Tom announced that no traps would 
 be set that day. He and Hammer Jones and three 
 others of his most skilled men would spend the day 
 exploring the surrounding country, learning where 
 the beavers were, planning trapping routes and as- 
 suring themselves that there were no hostile Indians 
 near. All the others would remain in camp, getting 
 the ground about the camp in shape and putting 
 
In the Beaver Country 117 
 
 everything in readiness to begin the actual trapping 
 the next morning. / 
 
 When Captain Tom and his men returned that 
 night there was great rejoicing. They had found 
 the streams full of beavers, and had not seen a re- 
 cent sign of an Indian. In addition Captain Tom 
 and Ham had made a complete circuit of the little 
 valley where their camp was situated, and had found 
 it enclosed by walls of precipitous rocks that no 
 human being could climb. This made the guarding 
 of the camp a very simple proposition ; for they had 
 only to station a man at either end of the valley, at 
 the entrance and the exit of the stream of water 
 flowing through it, the only places where danger 
 could enter, to make it impossible for Indians, they 
 feared no other danger, to attack them without 
 warning. Captain Tom and Ham had also each 
 brought in a deer, and so they had an abundance 
 of fresh meat with which to season their good news. 
 
 The next morning Rex and Dill awoke suddenly 
 to find themselves sprawling one on top of the other 
 in the middle of the tent, with the face of Ham 
 grinning above them, the blanket from which he 
 had dumped a sleeping boy gripped in either hand. 
 
 "Hey, thar! Time everybody was up!" he 
 shouted, throwing a blanket at the head of each boy. 
 
 "Sick him, Buster !" yelled Rex to the grizzly cub, 
 scrambling to his feet and hurling the blanket back 
 with such true aim that it completely enveloped 
 Ham's head. 
 
n8 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 Buster growled and made a rush for Ham's legs, 
 arriving just in time to trip that worthy up, as he 
 was struggling to get the blanket off his head, and 
 send him tumbling through the tent opening on top 
 of Pom, who let out an unearthly howl. Before 
 Ham could get on his feet, Dill had the other blanket 
 around his head ; and for a couple of minutes there 
 was a merry mix-up of whirling blankets, growling 
 bear cub, yelling negro boy, struggling man and 
 laughing boys. But, at the end of that time, all 
 emerged safe and sound and smiling. Even 
 Buster seemed to have a grin on his face, as he con- 
 tinued good-naturedly to worry one of the blankets. 
 
 A dash of the cold water of the creek over their 
 heads and faces and Rex and Dill were ready for 
 the day's work. 
 
 The discipline in a band of trappers was some- 
 times almost as strict as that in a detachment of 
 soldiers. Each man had his appointed work to do. 
 All could not trap. Some had to guard the camp 
 and prepare the food. Others had to hunt for the 
 deer and the buffalos and the other animals that 
 supplied them with their fresh meat. And all, so 
 long as they remained with the band, were subject 
 absolutely to the orders of the leader. Their only 
 laws were the ones they made themselves ; and the 
 welfare of all compelled all to see that the individual 
 obeyed those laws. 
 
 On this morning Captain Tom announced the 
 rules that would govern the camp while they were 
 
In the Beaver Country 119 
 
 in this beautiful valley. Five men would guard the 
 camp, one man would do the hunting and the other 
 men would attend to the trapping. Two of the 
 camp-guards would be stationed at the valley's en- 
 trance and exit. The other three would remain 
 near the tents, keeping watchful eyes on the horses 
 and mules and doing the camp work cooking the 
 food, stretching and preparing for packing the 
 skins of the beavers and other animals killed the day 
 before, etc. 
 
 The sun that morning looked down upon a scene 
 of bustling and pleasing animation in the little valley 
 where our friends were encamped. Around the 
 camp-fires in front of the tents the "cooks" were 
 busy getting the breakfast. A little distance away 
 the men, who were to do the trapping, were tying 
 their traps together, getting them ready to swing 
 upon their shoulders, filling their "medicine" 
 pouches, examining their rifles making sure that 
 everything was just right. Still farther away the 
 horses and mules, hobbled but not picketed, were 
 contentedly feeding on the rich grass of the valley. 
 And around this pleasing scene spread the little 
 valley, with the clear water flowing through it, and 
 around the valley towered the eternad mountains. 
 
 As soon as breakfast had been eaten, each trapper 
 swung his bunch of a dozen traps upon his shoulder, 
 picked up his rifle and started for the stream along 
 which lay his appointed trapping route. 
 
 Some of these routes were miles in length, but, 
 
I2O With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 where possible, were so laid out that the end of the 
 route would leave the trapper near camp. The 
 traps once set they were visited once a day, the ani- 
 mals caught, killed and skinned and the traps re-set. 
 At night the trappers all gathered at camp, where 
 the furs they had taken during the day were cleaned 
 and stretched on pieces of wood. Then the men 
 would light their pipes, and, reclining or sitting on 
 their blankets around the camp-fire, would narrate 
 their day's experience and tell tales of their adven- 
 turous life, while they smoked for an hour or more 
 before rolling themselves up in their blankets for the 
 night. Such was the daily routine of the life of 
 the trapper while at work. 
 
 Rex and Dill on this day were to have their first 
 lessons in actual beaver trapping. Both were to 
 accompany Hammer Jones over his route, and 
 watch him set and bait his traps, and learn all they 
 could about the habits of this remarkable animal; 
 and so eager were the two boys to be off that they 
 could hardly wait for Ham to finish his breakfast. 
 But, at last the huge trapper thrust his last piece 
 of venison into his mouth, ancj rose to his feet. 
 
 "Reckon that'll do for this feed," he said, as he 
 stretched his huge frame. "Now, yunks, git yer 
 guns an' we'll be off," and he swung his bunch of 
 traps to his shoulder, picked up his rifle and turned 
 to the two boys. 
 
 In a moment Rex and Dill, their rifles in their 
 hands, were by his side ; and Ham led the way some 
 
In the Beaver Country 121 
 
 three miles up Goose Creek to where a little stream 
 in another and larger valley poured its waters into 
 Goose Creek. Their trapping route lay along this 
 stream, which wound its way for some seven or 
 eight miles near the outer edge of the valley, 
 through groves of trees dear to the bark-loving 
 stomachs of the beaver. 
 
 "This looks like mighty good beaver water tew 
 me," Ham said, pausing to have a look up the tree- 
 lined banks, "an' thar is beaver up thar, sure. See 
 them twigs, lookin' as if th' bark had been peeled 
 off fresh this mornin', a-floatin' down th' stream. 
 That's a sure sign thar's beaver up-stream tew 
 work," and Ham bent over and caught up one of the 
 twigs, as it floated by. "Peeled within th' hour," 
 he declared, after he had examined the bit of wood 
 with critical eyes. "Jest have a look at it," and he 
 handed the twig to the boys. "That would tell any 
 trapper that he was near a beaver settlement. You 
 see th' beaver lives mostly on th' tender bark of th' 
 limbs of trees, which they cut up intew lengths 'bout 
 three feet long an' store near their houses under 
 th' water tew keep them fresh; an' when a beaver 
 gits hungry he jest peels th' bark off one of them 
 sticks an' eats it, an' then throws th' peeled stick 
 intew th' water, an', naturally, it floats down 
 stream, a sign tew all trappers. Now, keep 'bout a 
 rod ahind me, an' move quiet as Ingines, an' we'll 
 see if we can't catch Mr. Beaver at his work," and 
 Ham began very slowly and very cautiously to 
 
122 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 work his way up the stream through the trees and 
 bush. 
 
 Rex and Dill followed a dozen or so feet behind 
 Ham, pausing whenever the trapper paused and 
 moving so quietly that not even a beaver's sharp 
 ears could have heard them a couple of rods away. 
 
 For half an hour, it seemed two hours to Rex 
 and Dill, Ham moved stealthily up-stream. Then 
 the boys saw him pause behind a thick clump 
 of water willows, and, cautiously parting the 
 branches in front of him, peer through. For a 
 couple of minutes he looked, motionless as one of 
 the trees by the side of him, then, moving with the 
 utmost caution so as not to make a sound, he turned 
 and motioned Rex and Dill to advance. 
 
 The boys were well-trained in woodcraft, and so 
 carefully did they move forward that they reached 
 the side of Ham without the snap of a twig or a 
 sound audible a few feet away. Then the three 
 carefully parted the branches in front of their faces 
 and cautiously peered through the water willows. 
 
 In front of them, perhaps ten rods away and 
 clearly visible through an opening in the trees, was 
 a beaver pond, with half a dozen lodges or beaver 
 houses showing above its waters. Near the middle 
 of the dam, which was nearly a hundred feet in 
 length, a number of these remarkable little animal 
 architects were busily at work repairing a break, 
 evidently made by a recent freshet. 
 
 At the moment two boys looked through the 
 
In the Beaver Country 123 
 
 parted willows, three of the beavers were carrying 
 small bushes and sticks to the break in the dam. 
 When they had deposited their loads upon the 
 broken part, they paused for a moment to look about 
 and then dived into the water, reappearing again in 
 a minute or two on the surface, and gathering a 
 small quantity of mud in their fore paws plastered 
 the sticks and bushes they had just deposited with it. 
 Other beavers now appeared and soon a dozen or 
 more of the little animals were hurrying back and 
 forth with sticks and bushes for the break, always 
 plastering down with mud the ones just put in place 
 before adding others. 
 
 Evidently they believed that all work and no play 
 made Jack a dull boy, for frequently they would 
 pause for a little frolic in the water, frisking and 
 dodging about on the surface as they chased one 
 another hither and thither, or diving to the bottom 
 with a slap of their broad tails on the water that 
 sounded like the crack of a pistol. After indulging 
 for a few minutes in this lively recreation, all would 
 return to their work and the dam repairing would 
 go on as before. 
 
 Presently Rex and Dill saw two beavers swim 
 from one of the lodges to the shore almost directly 
 in front of where they were concealed behind the 
 willows. For a minute or two the newcomers stood 
 on the bank gravely watching the workers. Then 
 they climbed a little further up the bank to where 
 a good-sized cottonwood tree stood, paused for a 
 
124 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 moment in front of the trunk, as if they were con- 
 sidering how best to begin the work, and then, rear- 
 ing themselves up on their hind quarters into a 
 sitting posture, partly resting on their broad tails, 
 they placed their fore paws against the trunk, 
 one on each side of the tree, and began cutting into 
 the wood with their sharp chisel-like teeth. Now 
 and then one of them would tear off a small piece 
 of the bark, and, holding it between his paws, feed 
 himself, like a squirrel eating a nut. In a sur- 
 prisingly short time the two animals had girdled 
 the tree about ten inches above the ground, and 
 were cutting deep into the wood, sometimes throw- 
 ing off a chip three inches long by one and one-half 
 wide and one-quarter thick, when Rex, in an effort 
 to get a better view of the little workers, leaned too 
 far forward, lost his balance, and, in recovering 
 himself, stepped on a dry twig that snapped with a 
 loud crack. 
 
 At the sound every beaver in sight dived instantly 
 into the water, some of them giving their trowel- 
 like tails a violent slap on the surface as they went 
 under, producing a noise not unlike the explosions 
 of a small pack of firecrackers. 
 
 'Thar, that's th' last we'll see of them," Ham 
 said, pushing his way through the willows. 
 "They'll git intew their houses an' stay thar 'til their 
 lookouts tell them that all danger is passed. 
 Beavers are a powerful knowin' animal, with wits 
 'bout as sharp as their teeth, an' you seed how sharp 
 
In the Beaver Country 125 
 
 their teeth was when they war a-pickin' chips out 
 of that thar tree. 'Tain't every human that's up 
 tew beaver." 
 
 "Do the beavers really have lookouts," inquired 
 Dill, as the two boys followed Ham through the 
 willows, "to warn them of danger and to tell them 
 when it is safe to come out?" 
 
 "Sartain," and Ham paused to give emphasis to 
 his words. "Beaver are 'most as knowin' as we 
 be. Now, jest take a look at that thar dam," and 
 he pointed to where the beaver dam obstructed the 
 flow of the water and forced it to back up into a 
 pond of several acres in extent. "Who'd think 
 'twas planned an' made by a leetle four-legged 
 animal not more'n twice as big as a cat? Jest see 
 how th' knowin' leetle fellers have taken advantage 
 of th' land, an' made it jest whar an ingineer would 
 have made th' dam, if he wanted to back up th' 
 water in that medder. Come on an' we'll have a 
 look at it, afore we set th' traps," and Ham led the 
 way to the beaver dam. 
 
 Rex and Dill were greatly interested. This was 
 the first beaver dam they had ever examined at close 
 quarters; and they had heard the trappers tell so 
 many stories of the skill of these little animal 
 engineers and architects in building their dams that 
 they had long wished to examine one, but, hereto- 
 fore, they had had no opportunity to do so. 
 
 They found the dam composed of a great many 
 sticks, some of them the trunks of small trees, laid 
 
126 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 with their butts up-stream. These were weighted 
 down and their interstices filled in with stones and 
 mud, in the laying and plastering of which the 
 beavers showed considerable masonry skill. Some 
 of the stones must have weighed six or seven 
 pounds, and many of the sticks were so large that 
 it seemed impossible that they could have been 
 placed there by the beavers. 
 
 "I don't see how they can carry such large stones 
 and sticks and put them in the right place," Rex de- 
 clared, as he stood on top of the beaver dam and 
 looked down on the marvels of its construction. 
 "Why, some of these sticks look as if they'd be a 
 load for a man to carry !" 
 
 "An' so they would/' answered Ham. "But th' 
 beavers manage tew drag them or float them tew 
 th' right place somehow; an', as for th' stones, 
 I've seen th' critters walkin' on their hind legs like 
 human beings, a-carryin' a stone as big as their 
 head tucked up under their chins an' held thar by 
 their fore paws, an' I've see 'em rollin' an' a-pushin' 
 'em with their front paws an' noses along th' 
 ground. But, I reckon, we'd better be a-gittin' 
 down tew work, or we won't git back tew camp 
 afore dark. Now, you yunks keep 'bout a couple of 
 rods from th' water, an' I'll see if I can't set some 
 traps. You see a beaver's got a powerful smeller, 
 an' won't touch anything that's got a man-smell 
 about it ; and when you're settin' a trap, if you wants 
 tew catch one of th' cute leetle rascals, you've got 
 
In the Beaver Country 127 
 
 tew be powerful careful tew git rid of th' man- 
 smell afore you leave it." 
 
 The pond near the shore was shallow, and Ham 
 regardless of wet feet, now proceeded to wade 
 slowly along its margin, thus destroying his scent, 
 keeping his eyes closely on the shore for signs that 
 would tell him there was the place to set a trap. 
 
 At last the two boys saw him stop and bend over 
 and examine the edge of the water closely. He 
 had discovered one of the runways of the beavers. 
 
 "I'll set one right here," he commented, as he 
 loosened one of the traps from the bunch over his 
 shoulder; "an', if I don't miss my guess, thar'll be 
 a beaver in it afore mornin'," and, setting the spring 
 of the trap, he carefully placed it in the runway some 
 three inches below the surface of the water, con- 
 cealing it as much as possible in the mud. Then 
 he took one of the sharpened stakes he had pre- 
 pared himself with, placed it through the ring of 
 the trap-chain, and drove it firmly into the ground. 
 
 Now the trap was ready for the bait, or "medi- 
 cine," as the trappers called it. Ham carried his 
 "medicine" in a small pouch fastened to the belt 
 around his waist; and he now took a small portion 
 of it out on the end of his finger and smeared it over 
 the peeled end of a small stick about a foot long, a 
 number of which he had prepared and carried with 
 him. This done, he pushed the stick into the 
 ground between the jaws of the trap until its 
 doctored end stood about four inches above the pan 
 
128 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 of the trap. He also placed a little of the "medi- 
 cine" on anything near the trap that he had touched, 
 to destroy the man-smell. 
 
 The trap was now set, and, with a final look 
 around to see that everything was all right, Ham 
 continued on his way around the pond. In this 
 manner he had set five traps, when he had com- 
 pleted the circuit of the pond. 
 
 Rex's and Dill's eyes had followed every motion 
 he had made during the trap setting ; and now, when 
 he left the water and came up to where they were 
 standing on the bank awaiting him, both were ready 
 with questions. 
 
 "What makes the beavers so crazy to get at the 
 medicine that you only have to put a little of it on 
 the end of a stick to draw them to it?" asked Rex. 
 
 "What is that wonderful medicine made of any- 
 way?" queried Dill. "I have heard so much about 
 it since getting into the beaver country, that I 
 should like to know how it is made." 
 
 "Sartain, of course you'd like tew know what th' 
 medicine is," and Ham grinned. "But 'tam't 
 'lowable for me tew tell you, leastwise not until 
 you're regular trappers. It's th' trapper's secret. 
 But it sartain is th' stuff that gits th' beaver. 
 They'll come for it as far as they can smell it, an' 
 I reckon that's 'most a mile. Beavers have power- 
 ful good smellers. An' when he gits tew th' medi- 
 cine an' tries tew git a taste of it, he jest naturally 
 puts one of his feet intew th' trap, an' thar you have 
 
In the Beaver Country 129 
 
 him. I reckon th' medicine is something like th' 
 same tew beavers as whiskey is tew men, an' nigh 
 'bout as fatal. But we must be gittin' on/' and, 
 picking up the remaining traps, which he had 
 dropped on the ground by his side, he started on up 
 the stream to look for more beaver. 
 
 About a mile farther up the stream they came 
 to another beaver dam and pond, but considerable 
 smaller than the one they had just left. Here Ham 
 set three more traps, and continued on up the 
 stream. 
 
 They found no more beaver dams, but discovered 
 several places where the beavers had been at work 
 recently, and Ham set their remaining traps along 
 the banks of the little stream wherever he thought 
 the prospect for beaver looked good. When the 
 last trap was set, Ham straightened up and glanced 
 at the sun. 
 
 "Great Ingines, it must be 'most three o'clock 
 an' we've got 'bout seven miles tew go tew camp ! I 
 reckon we'd better hit a bee-line for home," and, 
 with a look around to get his bearings, he started 
 back for camp. 
 
 On reaching camp they found the other trappers 
 all in. All reported having found splendid beaver 
 prospects, and all expected to reap a rich harvest 
 of pelts when they visited their traps on the 
 morrow. 
 
 Rex and Dill had had an exceedingly interesting 
 day; and, when they went to bed that night, it 
 
130 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 seemed to the two boys as if they could hardly wait 
 until morning to visit the traps and discover what 
 Ham's luck had been. Tired as they were, they 
 lay for some time talking over the doings of the 
 day; but at last sleep stopped their tongues and 
 dosed their eyes, and they slept, as only those who 
 have lived the life they were living can sleep. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 THE MOUNTAIN LION 
 
 EARLY the next morning, just as the East began 
 to lighten with the approaching day, Rex and 
 Dill stole quietly from their tent and silently crept 
 up to where the great length of Hammer Jones lay 
 stretched out in his blanket on his bed of pine 
 boughs underneath a tree. To their delight he was 
 sleeping soundly and snoring loudly; for they were 
 about to give him a dose of the same morning 
 medicine that he had so often given them, and sleep 
 was a necessary preparative for the taking of that 
 kind of medicine. With broadly grinning faces, 
 each lad now caught hold of a corner on the same 
 side of his blanket and stiffened the muscles of his 
 back and arms for the great pull. 
 
 "Ready," whispered Rex, glancing at Dill. 
 
 Dill glanced back at Rex and winked his right 
 eye. 
 
 "Now, PULL!" yelled Rex. 
 
 Both boys, at exactly the same moment, gave a 
 violent upward jerk to the blanket, with results, as 
 unexpected, but much more welcomed, to the boys 
 than they were to Ham. 
 
 The big trapper had chosen for his bed a spot of 
 
132 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 ground about a rod from the brink of the water 
 and only some four feet from where the bank sloped 
 down abruptly to the pond; and the violence of the 
 pull of the two boys had sent him whirling down 
 this declivity and into the cold water, which he 
 struck with a yell that made every trapper in the 
 company jump to his feet, rifle in hand. 
 
 One glance at the body whirling down the bank, 
 and Rex and Dill fled to their tent, whence they 
 emerged a moment later to join the joyous crowd 
 of trappers standing at the top of the bank guying 
 Ham, who, dripping water from head to toe, stood 
 staring blankly up at them. 
 
 "Ben takin' yer mornin' bath ?" queried one of the 
 delighted trappers. 
 
 "How's th' water? War-r-r-rm?" asked an- 
 other. 
 
 "Dreamin 5 you was a beaver?" laughed a third. 
 
 At this moment Ham's eyes caught sight of the 
 faces of the two boys ; and, apparently, that moment 
 solved the problem for him of how he came to drop 
 from Dreamland into that pond of cold water, and 
 a broad grin wrinkled his face. 
 
 "You smart yunks jest wait!" and he shook his 
 fist at Rex and Dill. "This ain't a circumstance 
 tew what I'll do tew you some fine mornin'," and> 
 shaking the water from him like a great dog, he 
 strode up the bank to the camp-fire, to dry his 
 clothes and warm his shivering body. 
 
 As soon as breakfast was eaten, all who had set 
 
The Mountain Lion 133 
 
 traps the day before started out to examine them; 
 and Rex and Dill again accompanied Ham, who, 
 unlike most practical jokers, had not been made in 
 the least ugly by having the joke played on him. 
 
 As they drew near to the first beaver pond, where 
 Ham had set five traps, the boys found it difficult 
 to restrain their desire to rush on ahead, so anxious 
 were they to discover what had happened to the 
 traps during the night. 
 
 "Now, jest hold yer sperits," Ham cautioned, as 
 the two boys kept crowding ahead. "Beavers ain't 
 caught by th' length of yer legs ; an', when we gits 
 tew th' pond, don't go rushin' down tew th' water, 
 a-scatterin' th' man-smell all round th' trap." 
 
 As he spoke they came within sight of the pond. 
 "Now, don't you dare come within a dozen yards 
 of this trap, till I tell you tew, or I'll duck you, sure 
 as my name is Hammer Jones," and Ham, bidding 
 the boys remain on the bank a couple of rods away, 
 hurried to where he had set th' first trap, entering 
 the water when a couple of rods away and wading to 
 the trap. 
 
 "He's got one ! Hurrah, he's got one !" shouted 
 Dill excitedly, as Ham bent over the quiet water, 
 caught hold of the chain and, pulling it out of the 
 water, exposed the limp form of a beaver, hanging 
 by'one of his fore paws to the trap. 
 
 "Sartain I've got one, an' he's a whopper!" and 
 Ham held the dead beaver up triumphantly. 
 "Drowned himself tew, tew save me th' trouble of 
 
134 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 killin' him. Now, jest stay where you be," he 
 cautioned the excited boys. "I'll be with you in 
 'bout three jiffies," and, taking the beaver from the 
 trap, he dropped the carcass into the water by his 
 side, carefully reset the trap and placed it again in 
 position under the water, smeared a little more of 
 the "medicine" on the point of the stick projecting 
 above the jaws of the trap, and, picking up the dead 
 beaver, waded a rod or more from the trap, and 
 then, climbing the bank to where Rex and Dill 
 stood, threw the beaver down at their feet. 
 
 "My, but he is a big one !" exclaimed Rex, as he 
 and Dill eagerly bent over to examine the body. 
 
 " 'Bout th' biggest I've ever trapped," Ham de- 
 clared, taking a critical look at the sleek wet body. 
 "I reckon he'll weigh a good forty pounds. Maybe 
 fifty," he added, as he bent and hefted the body with 
 his hand. 
 
 This was the first beaver that Rex and Dill had 
 ever had an opportunity to examine closely and 
 they scrutinized its body with curious interest. 
 
 The color was a rich chestnut brown, showing 
 darker than it really was on account of being wet. 
 The fur was one-half to three-quarters of an inch 
 long, with coarse hairs about an inch longer 
 scattered through it. The paws were armed with 
 long strong claws, the hind pair being webbed and 
 having an extra claw not found on the feet of other 
 animals. The front pair were small, and shaped 
 
The Mountain Lion 135 
 
 very much like human hands. The curious trowel- 
 like tail was some eleven inches long by six inches 
 wide, flat and scaly and smooth and hard, without 
 a sign of the rich fur that covered the rest of the 
 body. The long front teeth looked very much like 
 short ivory chisels, and their edges were almost as 
 keen as the edge of a sharpened knife. The ears 
 were short, being but little longer than the fur, and 
 the eyes were small and set well-forward in the 
 head. 
 
 Such was the appearance of this remarkable little 
 animal, whose rich fur was the lure that drew thou- 
 sands of fearless men, when the West was in the 
 making, to brave the perils and the hardships of 
 the then unknown wilderness, and thus blaze the 
 trails for the westward march of civilization. 
 
 "Now, if you'll jest step one side, I'll git th' skin 
 off," and Ham drew his knife from its sheath. 
 "We've got tew hustle, or we can't git tew all th' 
 traps an' back tew camp afore dark. Trappin' 
 beaver's work th' same as choppin' wood." 
 
 In a surprisingly short time, Ham's swift and 
 skillful hands had the fur off the back of the beaver ; 
 and, giving the skin to one of the boys to carry, he 
 proceeded to examine and reset or re-place, when 
 necessary, the other traps he had left at this pond. 
 
 In the five traps he found three beavers, a most 
 excellent showing. One of the traps had been 
 sprung. Ham declared that some trap-wise old 
 
136 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 beaver had done this by grasping a stick in his fore 
 paws and thrusting it between the jaws of the trap 
 until it hit the trigger. 
 
 "No use a-tryin' tew catch him/' he affirmed. 
 "He's up tew trap, an' would spring traps as fast 
 as a feller could set them. We'll jest leave him 
 alone an' make a try somewhar else," and Ham 
 pulled up the stake and reset the trap in another 
 part of the pond. 
 
 That night, when they returned to camp, they 
 bore with them the skins of eight beavers ; and, as 
 nearly every trapper had been equally successful, 
 there was great rejoicing around the camp-fire, 
 when all had gathered there to relate the day's ex- 
 periences. 
 
 The next morning Captain Tom assigned a 
 trapping route to Rex and Dill, Ham gave them 
 a quantity of the "medicine," and, just as the sun's 
 first rays shone down into the little valley, they 
 shouldered their traps and started out, about the 
 proudest and happiest two boys in that western 
 continent. At last they were real trappers ! 
 
 The two lads, for companionship sake and safety, 
 were to trap together. Their route began a couple 
 of miles from the camp, and ran up one small 
 stream, that wound its way for some three miles 
 through the same valley where they had trapped 
 with Ham, to its source in a spring at the base of the 
 almost precipitous side of a mountain. Thence 
 they were to cross over a low rocky ridge to where 
 
The Mountain Lion 137 
 
 another small stream began, and follow it down to 
 Goose Creek, into which it emptied some three 
 miles above the camp. There were two or three 
 small beaver ponds along this route, and an abun- 
 dance of fresh beaver signs told them that the 
 beavers were at home. Consequently both boys 
 were filled with high hopes as to what the results 
 of their first day's trapping might be. 
 
 "Now," Rex cautioned, as the two made their 
 way up the little stream, "we must be very careful 
 not to leave our scent, or man-smell, as Ham calls 
 it, near the trap. That seems to be the great thing 
 in trapping beaver. And I think we had better 
 arrange the trap setting this way, so that each can 
 tell how many beavers his traps catch. You set 
 the first trap all by yourself, and I'll set the next 
 trap all by myself, and thus we'll take turns until 
 each has set all his traps. Don't you think that 
 will be the fairest way?" 
 
 "Yes," Dill agreed. "Only I think you ought to 
 set the first trap, because you are the older. O, I 
 do hope that each one of us catches a beaver in 
 every one of his traps to-night. We'd have the 
 laugh on Ham and the rest then. Not one of them 
 ever did that. I heard them talking about it last 
 night, and the nearest any one of them ever came to 
 doing it was to catch nine beaver with ten traps in 
 one night; and they all thought that was great. 
 Now, if we should catch ten beaver in our ten traps 
 the very first night we ever set them, wouldn't it 
 
138 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 make them old trappers open their eyes. And we 
 might happen to do it," he added hopefully. "Any- 
 way, let's be just as careful as we possibly can be 
 about setting the traps There, see there !" and he 
 pointed excitedly through an opening in the water 
 willows that here lined both banks of the little 
 stream, "There's a beaver dam and pond ! You set 
 the first trap, Rex." 
 
 "All right," Rex answered in a stage whisper. 
 "Now keep just as quiet as you can; and I'll do just 
 as Ham did and wade along in the edge of the pond 
 until I come to a good place to set a trap. Then I'll 
 set the trap, wade a rod or two from it, come out 
 of the water, and you can enter and wade along 
 until you have found a good place to set your trap; 
 and in this way we'll go all around the pond." 
 
 Accordingly Dill walked along the bank of the 
 pond a couple of rods from the water, while Rex 
 entered the pond and began wading along the edge, 
 keeping a sharp lookout for beaver signs that would 
 tell him where to set the trap. In this manner the 
 boys walked around the pond, each setting his share 
 of the traps, and passed on up the stream. When 
 they came to the spring, they had only two traps 
 left. They stopped here to eat their lunch, a few 
 chunks of dried buffalo meat, and then went on 
 over the ridge to the other stream. A mile or more 
 down this stream they came upon another beaver 
 pond, and here they set the two remaining traps. 
 
 "It can't be more than three o'clock," Rex said, 
 
The Mountain Lion 139 
 
 when the two boys stood together again after the 
 last trap had been set. "Let's have a look up that 
 gully before we start back for camp/' and he pointed 
 to where a rocky narrow ravine split the side of the 
 mountain half a mile from where they were stand- 
 ing. "I thought I saw a couple of mountain sheep 
 among the rocks there a little while ago ; and we've 
 never even had a shot at a mountain sheep yet. I 
 am sure Captain Tom won't care, because there's 
 no danger from Indians. Shall we?" 
 
 "All right," Dill answered promptly. "If we 
 can't get a sheep, we might get a deer ; and I fancy 
 we'd be all the more welcome at camp, if we brought 
 in a deer on our backs See, see there, about half- 
 way up the side of the gully ! There is a mountain 
 sheep, as sure as I am alive ! Come on !" and both 
 boys started on the run for the gully. 
 
 "I wish we could kill a mountain sheep," Rex 
 panted, as the two boys ran side by side. "Ham 
 says the meat is even better than venison, and tastes 
 almost like mutton, only with an added wild flavor 
 that makes it all the sweeter." 
 
 "Maybe we can," Dill answered hopefully. "I 
 heard some of the trappers wishing the hunter 
 would get some sheep meat, so I am sure it would 
 be welcomed at camp." 
 
 The gully at its bottom was not over a couple of 
 rods wide and covered with huge rocks, which were 
 thickly studded with tall pine trees, whose branches 
 afforded the boys concealment as they cautiously 
 
140 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 worked their way up the ravine toward the spot 
 where they had seen the mountain sheep. 
 
 "I am sure the sheep were almost right over our 
 heads," Rex declared, pausing in a little clump of 
 pines and looking upward, "so I think it time for us 
 to begin to climb the side of the gully." 
 
 Now, very cautiously, the two boys began to work 
 their way up the rocky and almost precipitous side 
 of the ravine, pausing every few moments to look 
 carefully for the mountain sheep. Suddenly, just 
 as Rex was about to peer over the top of a great 
 rock shoulder high, Dill caught him excitedly by 
 the arm and pulled him back. 
 
 "There they are!" he whispered, pointing back- 
 ward and upward to where a huge flat-topped rock 
 projected itself out from the side of the gully a 
 hundred yards away. 
 
 Rex turned and looked and saw, standing out 
 clearly on the flat top of the rock, a couple of moun- 
 tain sheep, a large buck and a ewe. Both stood 
 broadside to the boys, one a little behind the other, 
 presenting splendid marks ; and had the appearance 
 of philosophically contemplating the beautiful sur- 
 rounding scenery. The sheep had not seen the 
 boys, all but their heads being hidden by a rock that 
 rose between them and the sheep. 
 
 "You saw them first," whispered Rex. "Which 
 will you take?" 
 
 "The big buck is mine," answered Dill, his voice 
 
The Mountain Lion 141 
 
 trembling just a little with excitement, as he slowly 
 brought his rifle to his shoulder. 
 
 "All right. Til count three. At the 'three/ 
 fire," and Rex's eye glanced along his rifle barrel 
 to a spot just back of the ewe's fore shoulder. 
 
 "One," began Rex "two three!" 
 
 At the word both boys fired. 
 
 The buck bounded convulsively up into the air, 
 off the rock, and came tumbling down the side of 
 the gully. The ewe whirled about on her four feet, 
 as if she had been a top, started to run, blind with 
 pain and fright, and went over the cliff after the 
 buck, both crashing through the trees to the bottom 
 of the gully. 
 
 "Hurrah, we've got them both !" yelled Dill, start- 
 ing on the run down the gully toward the spot where 
 the sheep had fallen, with Rex not four feet behind 
 him. 
 
 The way thither was rough with rocks and some- 
 times almost impassible with trees and bushes, and, 
 hurry as they might, it was a quarter of an hour 
 before they approached the place where the bodies 
 of the sheep lay. They had fallen in a thick clump 
 of bushes and it was not until the two boys were 
 within a dozen feet of the carcass that Dill's eyes 
 caught sight of the body of the buck. 
 
 "There he is !" he cried. "My, what a splendid 
 head of" 
 
 The words stopped in Dill's mouth, for, at that 
 
142 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 moment, a snarling growl caused both boys to turn 
 their eyes a little to the right; and there, not five 
 yards away, they saw crouching over the dead body 
 of the ewe, a monster mountain lion. His eyes 
 flamed with yellow lights, his fangs were red with 
 the blood of the sheep, along his back the hair stood 
 up straight, and his tail twitched and pounded the 
 ground nervously. He looked like a great angry 
 cat about to spring upon his prey. 
 
 At the instant the boys' eyes saw the angry beast 
 he was crouching to spring upon them ; and, with a 
 chill at their hearts that no danger had ever brought 
 there before, at the same moment they realized that 
 both their rifles were empty. They had not stopped 
 to load them after shooting the mountain sheep! 
 
 Something in their eyes, both boys stood as if 
 they had been turned suddenly into stone their eyes 
 staring straight into the eyes of the lion, caused the 
 brute to hesitate, to glare back at them without 
 springing. And thus the beast and the boys stood, 
 glaring into each other's eyes. The boys did not 
 dare move a muscle, not even to reach for their 
 knives. They knew that at the first sign of a 
 movement on their part, the lion would hurl himself 
 upon them. 
 
 But, how long could their nerves and muscles 
 stand the strain of the tension? How long before 
 the lion would spring? 
 
 For a couple of minutes to the two boys it 
 seemed a couple of hours they stood thus, the lion 
 
The Mountain Lion 143 
 
 and the lads; and then, from behind a rock, half a 
 dozen rods up the gully's side, came the crack of a 
 rifle. 
 
 The lion whirled half-way round, and then, bit- 
 ing and clawing at his side, rolled over and over on 
 the ground in the agonies of death. 
 
 "I reckon you lads will know enough tew load 
 your guns next time afore you go racing lu- 
 naticy-like through these here mountains," and Rad 
 Dawson, the camp hunter, stepped out from behind 
 the rock and began loading his rifle. "I was after 
 that thar bighorn an' his mate, an' was just a-goin' 
 tew shoot, when bang went your guns. Wai, you 
 got them; but that mountain cat came mighty nigh 
 a-gettin' you. Never go a rod in these here moun- 
 tains with an empty gun in your hands," and, with 
 this wholesome advice, he rammed powder and ball 
 down the long barrel of his rifle; poured a little 
 powder into the priming pan and walked to where 
 the mountain lion lay. 
 
 Rex and Dill, at the sudden sound of that rifle 
 shot, had both jumped, as if the ball had struck 
 them, so great was the rebound of their tight-drawn 
 nerves and muscles; and then all the strength 
 seemed to leave their bodies for a moment and they 
 were so weak they could barely stand. But, by the 
 time Rad Dawson had reloaded his rifle, they had 
 their strength and courage back again ; and the first 
 thing both lads did, before they moved a step from 
 where they stood, was to see that their own rifles 
 
144 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 were properly loaded. They had learnt the lesson 
 of the mountains: never to go a rod with an un- 
 loaded gun in their hands. 
 
 Rad Dawson declared the buck killed by Dill the 
 largest he had ever seen, with "th' biggest pair of 
 horns on his head that he had ever heerd tell of." 
 
 And, indeed, the head was a magnificent one, the 
 horns measuring three feet and two inches in length, 
 with a circumference of eighteen inches at the base. 
 
 "I'm going to take that head home with me to 
 show dad, and to keep as a memento of this this 
 experience," and Dill cast a shuddering glance to 
 where the dead mountain lion lay. 
 
 "What do you suppose he has such big horns 
 for?" Rex asked, as he lifted the heavy head. 
 "Why, they must weigh fifteen pounds !" 
 
 "They're tew pertect his head," Rad answered. 
 "When scart or chased by wolves, he'll jump 
 right off a precipice, an' land on them big horns on 
 th' rocks maybe thirty or forty feet below, an' never 
 crack a bone or draw a drop of blood. That beast's 
 made a-purpose for these here mountains," and 
 the hunter's eyes rested admiringly on the sturdy 
 deer-like body and great horns of the dead buck. 
 "Now we must git tew work, if we're tew git back 
 tew camp afore dark. I reckon that big cat's hide'll 
 feel mighty comfortable this winter, leastwise 
 I'm goin' tew take off his skin," and, drawing his 
 hunting-knife, he began skinning the dead lion, 
 while Rex and Dill cleaned the two sheep. 
 
The Mountain Lion 145 
 
 The ewe had been so badly torn by the mountain 
 lion that only the saddles were taken from her body ; 
 but Rad bore the carcass of the buck in triumph on 
 his back to the camp, while Rex with the saddles 
 of the ewe and Dill with the skin of the mountain 
 lion, followed, the hearts of both boys glowing with 
 thoughts of the day's exploits. 
 
 Captain Tom gave the two lads a severe lecture 
 for leaving their trapping route; and forbade them 
 in the future while trapping to even fire off their 
 guns, except in self-defense. 
 
 "O, I do hope we will find a beaver in every one 
 of our traps to-morrow," Dill said that night, as 
 he pulled the blanket up close around his neck. "It 
 don't seem as if I could wait until morning." 
 
 "Go to sleep," retorted Rex, "and you won't have 
 to do any waiting. That's where I'm going," and 
 he rolled over and closed his eyes ; and in five min- 
 utes both tired boys were sound asleep. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 TRAPPED 
 
 THE next morning Rex and Dill were so anxious 
 to be off to examine the traps they had set the 
 day before that they could hardly wait for break- 
 fast; and the moment it was eaten they picked up 
 their rifles and hurried away. 
 
 "Now remember what I told you about leaving 
 your trapping route or firing off your guns," Cap- 
 tain Tom cautioned, as the two boys departed. 
 
 "I'll bet a dozen beaver skins agin a coonskin, 
 that you don't find half a dozen beavers in your 
 traps," called one of the trappers derisively. 
 
 "I'll take you," promptly answered Dill. 
 
 "Suppose you expect to find a beaver in every 
 trap," laughed another. 
 
 "Yes," Rex laughed back. "The beavers will let 
 us catch them just to spite you old trappers. So- 
 long!" and they hurried on their way, giving no 
 more attention to the calls of their friends. 
 
 "Isn't this an interesting life?" Dill said, his dark 
 eyes and cheeks glowing with healthful animation, 
 as the two boys hurried up the stream toward the 
 first beaver pond where they had set traps. "I 
 don't wonder dad is always longing to get back to 
 
 146 
 
Trapped 147 
 
 the plains and the mountains. It makes a fellow 
 feel so strong and well all through himself, just as 
 if his blood were some kind of an exhilarating wine. 
 And then there is such a lot of grand and beautiful 
 things to see, like great mountains, standing up as 
 if God had placed them there just to show man what 
 a little fellow he was, and little valleys with streams 
 of water running through them, and rivers tumb- 
 ling over rocks and falling down the sides of moun- 
 tains. I never really knew how great God is until 
 I saw the mountains. I don't believe I can ever be 
 satisfied to live in a crowded city again." 
 
 "Neither can I," affirmed Rex. "And if it 
 wasn't for getting those papers and taking them 
 back to Uncle Noel, I don't believe I'd go back to 
 New Orleans at all, at least not for a long time ; but 
 would stay here and hunt and trap. It is more 
 like living. I wish I knew what those papers were 
 about and why Uncle Noel is so anxious to get them. 
 They must be something very, very important to 
 send us all these miles." 
 
 "Maybe, when we find Kit Carson, he can tell us 
 something about them," Dill suggested. "I know 
 Kit Carson was with Uncle Manuel when he left 
 the papers at the mission; and possibly he knows 
 what they are about. I wish we could find Kit 
 Carson before winter and not have to wait until the 
 rendezvous next summer. But," and his eyes 
 roamed over the surrounding wilderness of moun- 
 tains and valleys, " 'twould be like looking for a 
 
148 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 needle in a straw pile to try to find him in these 
 mountains, unless one knew in what particular part 
 to look, so I reckon Captain Young and Captain 
 Tom are right, and we've just got to wait until the 
 rendezvous. Now we must be almost to the beaver 
 pond and had better keep as quiet as possible." 
 
 For a few minutes the boys walked on in cautious 
 silence; and then they came to the little opening 
 where the beavers had made the dam, and Rex, with 
 his heart thumping with excitement, advanced to 
 examine the first trap he had set, while Dill stood 
 on the bank anxiously watching him. 
 
 The moment Rex stepped into the pond a couple 
 of rods from where he had set the trap, there was a 
 splash, and he saw something struggling in the 
 water near the trap-stake. 
 
 "You've got one! You've got one! Hurry!" 
 cried Dill, excitedly running along the bank of the 
 pond until opposite the spot where a beaver was 
 vainly trying to break away from the first trap Rex 
 had set. "Hurrah, you've caught one in the very 
 first trap that you set ! Now, if I only have as good 
 luck !" and his eyes turned eagerly in the direction of 
 the spot where he had set his first trap. 
 
 Rex knocked the beaver in the head with a small 
 hatchet that he carried in his belt, released it from 
 the trap, and carefully reset the trap, just as he had 
 seen Ham do when he had been with him. Then 
 he picked up the body of the dead beaver, waded 
 a little ways from the trap, and, with his first beaver 
 
Trapped 149 
 
 gripped in his hand, proudly climbed the bank to 
 where Dill stood. 
 
 "Isn't he a beauty?" Dill cried, his eyes sparkling 
 with excitement, as Rex dropped the beaver at his 
 feet. "Now, while you're getting the skin off him, 
 I'll see if I've got one in my trap," and the excited 
 boy, unable longer to curb his impatience, hurried 
 off to see if he had a beaver in his trap. 
 
 As Dill approached the place where he had set 
 his trap there was no splash of water to signal suc- 
 cess to him. Around the trap-stake the water lay 
 quiet and undisturbed, and the boy's hopes sank. 
 He bent over the trap; and then, with a yell that 
 must have made every beaver in the pond shiver 
 with fright, he straightened up. 
 
 "I've got one! I've got one, too, Rex!" he 
 shouted, dancing up and down in the water in his 
 excitement. "He has drowned himself." 
 
 "Bully for you!" Rex called back. "But, if you 
 don't stop yelling, you'll scare all the beaver in the 
 pond to death. Set your trap again, and bring him 
 here, and we'll see which is the biggest." 
 
 In five minutes more the two beavers lay side 
 by side, with the two happy boys bending over 
 them. 
 
 "Mine is a good two inches longer than yours," 
 Rex declared triumphantly, when each beaver had 
 been stretched to his utmost length. 
 
 "But, mine has a bigger tail than yours," Dill 
 affirmed. 
 
150 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 "What's the tail good for ? It hasn't any fur on 
 it." 
 
 "It's good to eat. Makes the best soup in the 
 world; and I'm going to eat all of mine myself. O, 
 if we only have caught beavers in all the other 
 traps! Let's hurry and get these skinned so that 
 we can see," and Dill unsheathed his hunting-knife 
 and at once began taking the fur off his beaver. 
 
 In a few minutes the boys had the skins off, and 
 were on their way to examine the other traps. To 
 their inexpressible delight, every trap set in the pond 
 had a beaver in it ; and when they reached the spring 
 at the head of the stream they had eight beaver 
 skins with them, and they had examined only eight 
 traps ! 
 
 "Well, the dozen beaver skins that Bill bet me are 
 mine anyway," Dill declared joyously, as the two 
 boys threw themselves down on the grass by the 
 side of the spring. "Now, if the other two traps 
 only have beaver in them, won't we make those old 
 trappers look cheap? Ten beavers in ten traps! 
 And the very first traps we ever set ! Come on. I 
 can't wait. Let's not eat our lunch until we've ex- 
 amined the rest of the traps," and Dill jumped to 
 his feet. 
 
 Rex was as anxious as was Dill to see what had 
 happened to the other two traps; and, so without 
 stopping to eat their lunch, although it was past the 
 noon hour, the two boys set out for the other stream 
 
Trapped 151 
 
 of water, where they had set the last two traps the 
 day before. 
 
 Rex had set his trap in the edge of the pond, near 
 where he had discovered a beaver hole in the side of 
 the bank and a number of fresh tracks that told him 
 the beavers were at home. The boys approached 
 this place with rapidly beating hearts. If there 
 were a beaver in this trap, then their first day's 
 catch would equal the best ever made by any of the 
 old and experienced trappers in their party ; and that 
 would be a great honor for the two inexperienced 
 city boys! 
 
 In their eagerness both boys, forgetful of all cau- 
 tion, crept down the bank, and Rex bent over and 
 looked down into the water where he had set the 
 trap. At first he could see nothing but the clear 
 flowing water. 
 
 "Have you got him? Have you got him?" Dill 
 whispered excitedly. 
 
 "N-o-o Yes! Hurrah!" and the excited boy 
 plunged into the water caught hold of the chain, 
 and, pulling the trap up in view, brought out with 
 it the limp form of a drowned beaver. 
 
 For a few minutes the two boys danced around 
 the body of the dead beaver, as if they had been 
 suddenly bereft of their senses, laughing and shout- 
 ing in the exuberance of their joy. Dill was the 
 first to remember there was yet another trap to ex- 
 amine. 
 
152 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 Now, if this good luck would only hold out to the 
 end! They must see, and at once! And, each 
 catching hold of a leg of the beaver, they started 
 on the run to the place where Dill had set his trap, 
 about half a mile farther down the stream where a 
 small beaver dam had forced the water back into a 
 little pond. There was one large beaver lodge in 
 this pond, and Dill had set his trap in one of the 
 runways leading to this lodge. 
 
 "If there is a beaver in my trap, then we've done 
 better than any other trapper in our party ever did," 
 panted Dill, his eyes shining and his face flushing 
 with excitement and exertion. "O,"I do hope there 
 is one! I do hope there is one, just so that we can 
 say that we have beaten them all catching beavers, 
 whenever they begin making fun of our greenness." 
 
 The bottom of the little pond was stony where 
 Dill had set his trap, and so he had tied the chain 
 around a small log. When the excited boys reached 
 the place, both the log and the trap were gone. 
 
 For a moment Dill stared blankly at the spot 
 where he knew the trap and the log should be, then 
 his face brightened. 
 
 "I've caught one, and he has run off with the log 
 and the trap !" he cried. "O, we must find him, or 
 they will never believe that I really did catch him ! 
 Hark! What was that?" and both boys turned 
 their eyes quickly in the direction of the sound of a 
 splash in the water, coming from the other end of 
 the dam. 
 
Trapped 153 
 
 "There he is !" cried Rex. "Come on, quick, be- 
 fore he gets out into deep water," and he started 
 running across the dam to where the beaver could 
 be seen struggling in the water at the other end. 
 
 Rex reached the beaver a little ahead of Dill. 
 The log to which the chain was fastened had caught 
 among the sticks that made up the dam, holding the 
 struggling animal within reach of the boy's hatchet ; 
 and, in a moment, he had bent forward and killed 
 him with a blow on the head. 
 
 They had caught ten beavers, in ten traps, in one 
 night, the very first time they ever set ten beaver 
 traps ! 
 
 Again the boys danced a war-dance of jubilation 
 around the bodies of the two dead beaver and the 
 skins of the other eight thrown on top of them ; and 
 then, after a little while, they quieted down, ate their 
 lunch, skinned the two beavers, and, with the ten 
 beavers' skins hanging over their shoulders, started 
 back for camp the two proudest and happiest boys 
 in America. 
 
 When they came within sight of the camp they 
 saw, to their surprise, that all the other trappers 
 were in and gathered in an excited group around 
 Captain Tom in front of the tents. Evidently some- 
 thing unusual had happened, and to them something 
 unusual usually meant danger. But the boys were 
 too excited over their ten beavers to give the matter 
 any special thought. 
 
 "Hurrah!" Dill shouted the moment they came 
 
154 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 within hearing distance. "We caught ten beavers 
 in our ten traps! How is that for the city 
 greenies ?" 
 
 The men gave a glad shout when they saw the 
 two boys, and yelled for them to hurry, but they did 
 not appear to hear Dill's boast, or, if they heard it, 
 they paid no attention to it. 
 
 "I wonder what can have " began Rex, and 
 stopped. The eyes of both boys had caught sight 
 of a man seated on a log near Captain Tom. 
 
 "Look! Look!" cried Dill excitedly. "Rad Daw- 
 son has been hurt! His head is all bound up! 
 Hurry!" and both boys broke into a run. 
 
 "I'm mighty glad to see you boys back safe. We 
 were just a-going to start out after you," Captain 
 Tom said, as Rex and Dill came running up. 
 
 "Why, what has happened?" and the eyes of the 
 two boys glanced from the bloody bandage around 
 the hunter's head to the anxious faces of the men. 
 
 "The cussed Blackfeet," and Captain Tom's eyes 
 glinted. "Rad ran onto a large war-party of them 
 a-coming down Goose Creek, 'bout five miles up; 
 and me and Ham discovered another large war- 
 party a-coming up the creek. They've got us 
 penned up in this here little valley like a lot of fool- 
 deer, and with no way of getting out without a 
 fight. I ought to have known 'twon't Blackfoot 
 nature to let as small a party of whites as us slip 
 out of their clutches the way them Blackfeet did at 
 the mouth of the Sweetwater. They've just kept 
 
Trapped 155 
 
 on our trail and waited for reinforcements; and 
 now we've walked right into a trap with our eyes 
 and ears wide open/' and Captain Tom scowled his 
 deep disgust at his own foolishness in permitting 
 himself and party to be thus caught. 
 
 "But they ain't got our scalps yet, Tom, not by 
 a jug full," and Ham brought his huge hand down 
 with a resounding whack on his thigh. "We can 
 fight our way out of th' trap, an' I reckon th' sooner 
 we do it, th' better 'twill be for us." 
 
 " 'Twould be madness to try it," Captain Tom an- 
 swered. "They've got each end of the valley 
 guarded by at least a hundred, maybe two hundred, 
 Indians, camped right across the valley where it ain't 
 more'n twenty rods wide, with plenty of rocks for 
 them to hide behind and shoot. 'Twould be sartin 
 death to all for us to try to break through in a body ; 
 but," and his eyes lighted, "one man might get 
 through under cover of the darkness of the night; 
 and maybe find some band of trappers and get them 
 to come to our rescue. Jim Bridger's party ought 
 to be trapping somewhere hereabouts or some of 
 the other bands. We can hold the devils at bay 
 here, I reckon, as long as food and ammunition last ; 
 for I calculate they're planning on just keeping us 
 shut up in this here little valley until we've used up 
 all our ammunition or run out of grub, and then 
 they can come and get us without much loss to them- 
 selves. That's the Indian way of fighting. Yes," 
 and Captain Tom paused and his eyes searched the 
 
156 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 faces of the trappers, "I reckon the best thing for 
 us to do is for one of us to try to break through 
 to-night and see if he can find help. But 'twill be 
 a mighty risky thing to do and I am not going to 
 tell anyone to go. I am going to call for volunteers. 
 Now," and Captain Tom again paused and studied 
 the faces of the trappers a moment, "let the man 
 that'll go raise his right hand." 
 
 As if propelled by one arm, the right hand of 
 every trapper was raised. 
 
 "Good! Not a coward in the party," and Cap- 
 tain Tom smiled grimly. "Now, who knows the 
 country best hereabouts ?" 
 
 "I reckon I do," and Rad Dawson arose to his 
 feet. "Leastwise I've hunted an' trapped all 
 through this country clear tew the Green River." 
 
 "But you're wounded," broke in Hammer Jones, 
 "an' I" 
 
 "Shucks!" interrupted Rad indignantly. "Th' 
 wound ain't nuthin' but jest an arrer scratch 'long 
 side my head; an' since I'm th' only man in th' 
 crowd that knows th' country, 'cept th' Captain an' 
 of course he can't go, I reckon it's up tew me tew 
 git out of here tew-night an' try tew find that band 
 of trappers. I'm yer man, Captain." 
 
 "I reckon Rad's right, boys," and Captain Tom's 
 jaws came together decisively. "He's the man to 
 go. 'Twould be foolishness to send a man out who 
 don't know the country when we've got one to go 
 who does. Better start a little after midnight, Rad ; 
 
Trapped 157 
 
 and now you'd better go into one of the tents and get 
 all the sleep you can before going. The rest of us 
 must get to work at once to make this place as strong 
 as possible. That rock will help a lot," and he 
 pointed to the huge rock, near which they had 
 pitched their tents, "and the spring will furnish us 
 with all the water we want. I reckon the Indians 
 won't begin the fight until to-morrow morning, and 
 so we've got all the rest of the day to get ready for 
 them. We'll get a wall around the spring the first 
 thing to protect us when we go after water. Now 
 everybody get to work," and Captain Tom, quick 
 and decisive in everything, began rapidly giving 
 orders to the trappers. 
 
 In a few minutes all, except the two men on guard 
 and Rad Dawson who had gone to lie down in the 
 boys' tent, were busy raising the walls to the im- 
 provised fort. Fortunately a little grove of trees 
 grew near the camp. These were cut down as 
 swiftly as strong arms and sharp axes could do it, 
 and quickly formed into a wall running from the 
 Big Rock, in such a manner as to include the spring 
 of water at its base, and, circling around to the 
 other end of the rock, enclosed a space large enough 
 to corral their animals in, if necessary. Every man 
 worked as if his life depended on his efforts, as, 
 indeed, it did, and the wall grew apace. They be- 
 gan an hour before sunset, they worked some four 
 hours after the sun had gone down; and in that 
 short time, so skillfully and rapidly did they cut and 
 
158 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 lay the logs, they had made a wall four feet high 
 around their camp and sufficiently thick to stop an 
 arrow or a rifle ball. Then the light from the skies 
 was hidden by masses of black clouds and they were 
 obliged to stop work. 
 
 All the mules and horses were now driven inside 
 this enclosure and corralled in one end. Then a 
 double guard was stationed outside the "f ort" ; and 
 the rest of our little band of trappers, wearied al- 
 most to exhaustion by their strenuous labors, rolled 
 themselves up in their blankets to get what sleep 
 they could before the morning dawned. 
 
 Rex and Dill and even Pom had worked until 
 every muscle ached and quivered with exhaustion. 
 They knew that each log laid on the wall meant 
 additional safety; and every muscle had been con- 
 stantly strained to do its utmost. Now, when they 
 entered their tent to get what sleep they could, they 
 were so tired they could hardly drag one foot after 
 the other. 
 
 "Well," Dill whispered, as the two boys lay down 
 together Rad Dawson had rolled himself up in the 
 blanket of Rex, "it begins to look as if we were 
 going to have the Indian fight we have been longing 
 for." 
 
 "Yes," responded Rex. "And and somehow, 
 now that the fight is right at hand, I I don't seem 
 to care so much about having it happen Not that 
 I am afraid," he added quickly. "But, somehow, 
 I never seemed to think that fighting meant hurting 
 
Trapped 159 
 
 and killing before. I only thought of the excite- 
 ment and glory, not of the pain of the wounds and 
 the horrors of death. But, aren't the trappers 
 brave ? Not one of them seems to fear the expected 
 attack by the Indians in the least. They are only 
 mad because they have allowed themselves to be 
 caught in this trap." 
 
 "And look at Rad," Dill whispered, glancing to 
 where the hunter lay snoring. "He's sleeping as 
 soundly as if there were no such things as Indians 
 in the world ; and yet he knows that in a few hours 
 he must be risking his life among the red fiends. I 
 wonder what time it is. It must be getting almost 
 time for him to start." 
 
 "Not for two or three hours yet, I think/' Rex 
 replied. "And we'd better be following Rad's ex- 
 ample, and sleep while we can. My, but I am so 
 tired that I think I could go to sleep with an Indian 
 a hold of my scalp-lock. Good night," and the 
 tired boys were soon sound asleep. 
 
 They remembered nothing more until sometime 
 later in the night, when they were awakened by 
 voices in the tent. It was pitch dark, and outside 
 they could hear the rain beating down steadily on 
 the tent. 
 
 "You'll find the Indians at the narrows, probably, 
 'bout two miles down the valley," they heard the low 
 voice of Captain Tom saying; "but they might be 
 scouts nearer. Got everything, Rad? Plenty of 
 powder and ball? Be sure and put your powder 
 
160 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 where it will keep dry. It's raining like the lakes 
 of heaven had all sprung leaks, and so dark you 
 can't see two inches afore your nose." 
 
 "Yes," the boys heard the hunter reply. "I got 
 everything ready afore I laid down ; an' I'm mighty 
 glad it's dark an' rainin'. 'Twon't be much tew 
 slip by th' Injuns in this darkness. 'Pears like th' 
 Lord was on our side, as He otter be, in J:his fight. 
 Now, I'll be goin'," and Rex and Dill heard the two 
 men pass quietly out of the tent into the darkness 
 and rain of that stormy night; and they gripped 
 each other's hand tightly under the blanket, and lay 
 for many minutes listening shudderingly, fearful 
 of hearing the dreaded crack of a rifle or Indian 
 warwhoop that would tell them that the brave hunter 
 had been discovered by his merciless foes. But all 
 they heard was the steady patter, patter of the rain 
 outside on the tent-roof and the muffled sounds that 
 came from the near-by horses and mules ; and soon 
 once again sleep closed their tired eyes and quieted 
 their excited senses. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE FORT BY THE BIG ROCK 
 
 ^HE next morning the clouds had disappeared 
 * and the sun arose warmly in a clear sky. Not 
 a sign of the Indians was to be seen, not a sound 
 was heard that would indicate that their dread pres- 
 ence was so near. The sun rose higher until it 
 shone down into the quiet little mountain valley and 
 upon the camp of our trappers, sparkling in the 
 swollen waters of the pond, drying the rain- 
 soaked tents and warming the chilled bodies of the 
 men and animals. All around the little encampment 
 everything looked quiet and restful, as nature al- 
 ways does after a storm. Only within the rude en- 
 closure of logs was the peaceful charm of this 
 beautiful scene marred. Here there were no 
 scenes, no thoughts of peace, only of war, of fight- 
 ing, if need be, to the bittermost end. 
 
 There had been no laggards in camp that morn- 
 ing. All were up when the first light of day shone 
 down in the little valley, watching, waiting for the 
 attack that they knew must come soon now. Scouts 
 had been sent out up and down the valley to report 
 by the firing of their rifles the first appearance of 
 the Indians, while those who remained were busy 
 
 161 
 
1 62 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 preparing to make the best possible accounting with 
 the redmen when they came. Some were at work 
 strengthening the walls of the little fort, others were 
 guarding the horses and mules while they fed 
 near-by, and still others were bending over fires 
 melting lead and molding it into rifle bullets. All, 
 as they worked, were listening for the crack of a 
 scout's rifle that would warn them that the Indians 
 were coming, that the time to fight was at hand. 
 
 Rex and Dill were bending over one of the fires 
 melting lead, while Pom was squatted down on the 
 ground between them holding the molds. Already 
 there was a little pile of rifle balls by the negro boy's 
 side. Near Rex lay Buster, the grizzly bear cub, 
 now grown to the bigness of a fair-sized dog, his 
 head between his paws and his shrewd little eyes 
 watching every movement of the boys. Pom's eyes 
 were rolling in his head like white marbles, and he 
 acted very much as if he were squatted on a bunch 
 of cactuses instead of on the smooth ground. Evi- 
 dently Pom was perturbed in mind and uneasy in 
 body. Within easy hand-reach of Rex and Dill lay 
 their rifles, and at safe distance from Pom lay the 
 redoubtable double-barreled shotgun, that he had so 
 indignantly discarded when he had had the adven- 
 ture with the buffalo calf, and which Dill had 
 brought back with him to the camp. For the first 
 time since the buffalo hunt Pom had been prevailed 
 on that morning, under the stress of the threatening 
 
The Fort by the Big Rock 163 
 
 Blackfoot attack, to again take possession of the 
 old gun, which had again been loaded with buck- 
 shot; but he handled the weapon gingerly, and al- 
 ways laid it down at the first opportunity, taking 
 care to place it as far away from himself as he 
 dared. He was afraid of the old gun; but he was 
 still more afraid of the Indians from whom the gun 
 might protect him. 
 
 "If dem red debbles done cotch dis niggah alibe, 
 what am dey gwine to do wid him ?" he queried, as 
 he emptied the bullet-mold upon the little pile of 
 rifle balls, his eyes rolling around as if he feared the 
 "red debbles" might be within hearing distance. 
 "Dat am what I want to obnosticate." 
 
 "See Bill, thar," and Ham, who at that moment 
 had been passing behind the boys and had heard 
 Pom's anxious query, paused and pointed to where 
 one of the trappers was roasting a huge piece of 
 meat over one of the fires. "If them Ingines git 
 you, Pom, they'll spit you on a stick an' roast you 
 over a fire, same as Bill is roastin' that hunk of ven- 
 ison, an', when yer done good an' brown, they'll eat 
 you sizzlin' hot unless," and Ham paused and 
 winked at the two grinning boys, "unless you kill 
 one on 'em, an' then they'll jest tie you tew a stake 
 an* burn you alive. They only eats fat cowards," 
 and Ham passed on with the log he was carrying, 
 chuckling to himself. 
 
 "Golly !" and Pom turned a horrified face to Rex. 
 
164 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 "Den dem scan'lous wildmans eat dis niggah, siz- 
 zlin' hot, jes' like he's a fat 'possum, if dey done 
 cotch him?" 
 
 "Yes," responded Rex, "unless, as Ham says, you 
 kill one of them, and then they will only tie you to 
 a stake and burn you alive. You'd better keep that 
 gun of yours within easy reach, Pom." 
 
 "I done spec'lates yo' is right, Massah Rex," Pom 
 answered, edging nearer his gun ; "f o' it sartinly am 
 bettah to be burnt up tied to a stake, 'spectable like, 
 dan it am to be circumulatin' 'round in de intestimals 
 ob dem scan'lous redmans. I's gwine to shoot de 
 pull-my-marys out ob de first red debbel I done sot 
 mah eyes on O, lordy ! Who shoot dat gun ?" and 
 Pom jumped to his feet, caught up his gun and 
 made a wild rush for a corner of the enclosure, 
 where he crouched down behind the logs as closely 
 to the ground as he could get. 
 
 The single rifle shot that had so startled Pom was 
 quickly followed by half a dozen other shots, some 
 sounding from up the valley and others coming 
 from down the valley. 
 
 At the first crack of the rifle Rex and Dill had 
 dropped their work, caught up their rifles and 
 rushed to the wall ; and every trapper in or near the 
 fort had done likewise, while the men who were 
 guarding the horses and mules began driving them 
 hurriedly toward the safety of the log walls. In 
 ten minutes every horse and mule was safe within 
 the enclosure, and the trappers, their rifles in thei r 
 
The Fort by the Big Rock 165 
 
 hands, were standing behind the log barricade, look- 
 ing anxiously up and down the little valley. 
 
 At first they could see no one. Then there came 
 another volley of shots, now sounding nearer, and, 
 a moment later, the scout who had gone up the val- 
 ley suddenly appeared, rounding a projecting ledge 
 of rocks and running toward the camp at full speed. 
 He was over half a mile from the barricade of logs, 
 and was running as if the Indians were close behind 
 him. 
 
 "Quick!" shouted Captain Tom. "Half a dozen 
 of you men come with me !" and he vaulted over the 
 logs and raced toward the running man, followed 
 by six trappers. 
 
 Barely had Captain Tom leaped over the logs, 
 when there came the single crack of a rifle from 
 down the valley, immediately followed by a fusillade 
 of shots, and the next moment the other scout ap- 
 peared. He, too, was running as if the savages 
 were close after him. 
 
 "Come on ! We'll give Jack a helpin' hand !" and 
 Ham leaped over the barricade, every one of the 
 remaining trappers leaping with him. "Git back 
 ahind th' logs, yunks!" he called to Rex and Dill, 
 who had leaped with the others. "Some one must 
 stay ahind. Git back, I say !" and the two boys re- 
 luctantly obeyed. 
 
 Hardly were the lads back within the walls of the 
 little fort, when a dozen or more Indians came into 
 view from around the ledge of rocks in the upper 
 
1 66 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 end of the valley. They were running swiftly, evi- 
 dently they had been chasing the scout ; but the mo- 
 ment they saw Captain Tom and the trappers rush- 
 ing to his rescue, they whirled about, and, darting 
 back among the rocks of the ledge, began shooting 
 at the fleeing man. 
 
 Rex and Dill stood watching the runner with 
 bated breaths. Never before had they seen a 
 human being made the target of rifle balls ; and this 
 man was a friend ! 
 
 "O, if they should hit him!" gasped the more 
 excitable Dill, trembling with apprehension. 
 
 "Ah-h-h ! He is hit ! He is hit !" he cried in hor- 
 ror a moment later, as the runner fell headlong to 
 the ground. "Hurry! Hurry, Captain Tom, or 
 they will get his scalp !" he screamed, as, with yells 
 of triumph, a half a dozen Indians leaped up from 
 among the rocks and raced toward the fallen man. 
 "No Hurrah! He's getting up! He's not hit! 
 Bully for you ! The fall was but a ruse !" he yelled 
 in the greatest excitement, as the fallen trapper sud- 
 denly leaped to his feet, whirled about, and, throw- 
 ing his rifle to his shoulder, fired at the nearest In- 
 dian, who plunged blindly forward for a few feet 
 and fell heavily to the ground, while the other In- 
 dians, quickly catching their wounded comrade up 
 in their arms, fled precipitately back to the safety 
 of the rocks. 
 
 In a few minutes more the trapper was safe with 
 
The Fort by the Big Rock 167 
 
 his comrades ; and all were returning in triumph to 
 the barricaded camp. 
 
 In the meantime an equally exciting scene had 
 been taking place in the lower end of the valley. 
 Jack Hodge, the trapper who had been sent out to 
 do scout duty in this part of the valley, had delayed 
 to seek the safety of the camp a little longer than he 
 should have done, and, when he broke cover and 
 started on the run for the barricade of logs, the fore- 
 most Indians were not a hundred yards behind him, 
 while he was nearly three-quarters of a mile from 
 his comrades hurrying to his rescue. The Indians, 
 nearly all of those in the race were armed with 
 rifles, fired their guns as they ran ; but an Indian is 
 usually a poor shot with a rifle, and not a ball 
 touched Jack Hodge, who, to discomfit their aim, 
 kept constantly jumping sideways. This mode of 
 running, while it promised safety from the rifle balls, 
 was not conducive to great speed, and his foes 
 gained on him rapidly. 
 
 "Let her out another notch," panted Ham, seeing 
 how swiftly the Indians were gaining on Jack "or 
 they'll git him," and he and his companions strained 
 every muscle to get within rifle shot before the red- 
 men overtook the fleeing trapper. 
 
 One of the Indians, a man with an unusually long 
 pair of legs, gained so rapidly that he was soon only 
 a few yards behind Jack. He had thrown aside his 
 rifle, and his only weapon was his tomahawk, which 
 
1 68 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 he held in his right hand, ready to throw or strike 
 when within throwing or striking distance. The 
 nearest of the other Indians was a dozen rods behind 
 him. 
 
 A glance backward showed Jack how close one of 
 his pursuers was getting; but that sight did not 
 trouble the bold heart of the trapper. If he could 
 escape the rifle balls, he did not fear this one man 
 armed only with a tomahawk. He glanced back- 
 ward again. The Indian now was not more than a 
 dozen feet behind him and the keen tomahawk was 
 raised to throw with deadly aim. The time to act 
 had come. With a swift bound sideways, Jack 
 stopped, whirled about and swung the butt of his 
 rifle above his head. 
 
 The Indian had no thought of such a maneuver 
 on the part of the trapper, and was totally unpre- 
 pared. He tried to stop, to hurl his tomahawk; but, 
 before he could do either, the heavy butt of the 
 trapper's rifle hit his head and he was out of the 
 race. 
 
 With a yell of triumph Jack rushed on; and, a 
 moment after, the rest of his pursuers were sent 
 scurrying back down the valley by a volley from the 
 rifles of Ham and his comrades. Five minutes later 
 all the trappers were safe within the barricade of 
 logs. 
 
 Now, in order that you may properly understand 
 the fight that followed between the trappers and the 
 Indians, it is necessary for you to know something 
 
The Fort by the Big Rock 169 
 
 of the situation of the little encampment that our 
 friends had so hurriedly barricaded. 
 
 The valley, where they had pitched their tents, 
 was, perhaps, two miles wide at its widest point, 
 and, possibly three miles long, with sides gradually 
 narrowing down to a width of fifteen or twenty rods 
 at the entrance and exit of Goose Creek. The sur- 
 rounding mountains were precipitous and impass- 
 able, the only way in or out of the valley being along 
 the shores of Goose Creek. The little lake or pond 
 was almost directly in the center of the valley, and 
 was some forty rods wide by eighty long. On the 
 east side of the pond and some five rods from the 
 water, a huge rock projected up out of the ground 
 thirty or more feet into the air. A little knoll near 
 this rock, you will remember, was the place where 
 Captain Tom had pitched their camp. At the base 
 of the side of the rock nearest to the pond was the 
 spring of water already mentioned. The rock it- 
 self was some twenty feet wide by thirty long, with 
 almost precipitous sides and a flat top. 
 
 The barricade of logs had been built from the 
 southwestern corner of the rock, the one nearest 
 to the pond, for a dozen feet west, so as to include 
 the spring of water, thence north for, perhaps, sixty 
 feet, then eastward around the top of the little knoll 
 for another sixty feet, then south sixty feet, and 
 then west straight to the southeastern corner of the 
 rock. 
 
 This made a barricaded enclosure about sixty 
 
170 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 feet square, with the huge rock standing up midway 
 in its southern side, like a great tower, which, in- 
 deed, it very closely resembled. 
 
 Westward from this little fort stretched the level 
 surface of the pond for forty rods ; and for two hun- 
 dred yards around the remaining sides there was 
 not a rock, nor tree, nor shrub behind which an In- 
 dian might safely conceal himself. An experienced 
 trapper, like Captain Tom, never, while in the In- 
 dian country, camped where it would be possible for 
 the cunning savages to conceal themselves within 
 easy shooting distance of the encampment ; and the 
 intuitive caution of Captain Tom had, in this in- 
 stance, caused him to select the most defensible 
 camping-place in the little valley. Beyond this 
 limit there were a number of scattered groves of 
 trees and clumps of bushes and piles of rocks that 
 might afford shelter and concealment to their savage 
 enemies; but, in those days, few rifles would do ef- 
 fective shooting at two hundred yards and these 
 were not apt to be in the hands of Indians, while, of 
 course, the range was utterly beyond the reach of 
 arrows, 
 
 Such, then, was the situation in which our little 
 band of trappers found themselves on this morning, 
 when the Blackfeet poured into the little mountain 
 valley from the north and from the south, and laid 
 siege to the Fort by the side of the Big Rock. 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THE FIGHT IN THE VALLEY 
 
 waste a shot, boys. Be sure you've 
 got your Indian before you pull trigger," 
 Captain Tom warned, as the trappers began station- 
 ing themselves around the walls inside the little en- 
 closure of logs, the moment they were safe in the 
 fort. "I reckon we can keep off them Indians as 
 long as our powder and grub hold out; and we'd 
 better begin right now not to waste a charge of the 
 one nor a mouthful of t'other." 
 
 Large bodies of Indians were now seen gathering 
 in both ends of the valley; but too far off for rifle 
 ball to reach them from the fort. Evidently they 
 were considering the situation; for they galloped 
 about on their horses to different points of view; 
 and, finally, half a dozen warriors from each body 
 began circling round the outer edge of the little 
 valley toward each other, being careful to keep out 
 of range of the rifles of the trappers. When the 
 two parties met they stopped, and, climbing to the 
 flat top of a rock that overlooked the valley, stood 
 there, within plain sight of the trappers, for half an 
 hour conferring together. Then they climbed down 
 off the rock, mounted their horses and galloped back 
 
 171 
 
172 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 to the Indians awaiting them at either end of the 
 valley. 
 
 "Now look out for some Ingine devilment," Ham- 
 mer Jones, who stood near Rex and Dill, cautioned. 
 "I reckon that's what that thar pow-wow on that 
 thar rock meant." 
 
 "There must be about two hundred Indians at 
 each end of the valley," Rex declared. "I've 
 counted one hundred and seventy-five at the lower 
 end, and there must be a lot I can't see; and Dill has 
 counted about the same number at the upper end. 
 Four hundred Indians against seventeen white 
 men!" 
 
 "An' one on 'em a nigger," laughed Ham. 
 "Wai, I calculate we're good for th' hull caboodle 
 as long as our powder an' grub holds out ; an' afore 
 they give out Rad'll be back with a lot of trappers 
 that'll send th' red devils scootin' over th' moun- 
 tains, like stampedin' buffalos. Ingines ain't got 
 no stumiks for chargin' rifles ahind logs, especially 
 when thar's white trappers ahind th' guns ; an' that's 
 th' only way they can git us. Wai, I'll be durned, 
 if they ain't a-goin' tew give us some palaver afore 
 they begin tew shoot !" 
 
 As the honest trapper spoke, a tall chief was seen 
 to detach himself from the body of Indians in the 
 lower end of the valley, and to advance slowly to- 
 ward the big rock where our trappers lay behind 
 their log fort. When within two hundred yards of 
 the barricade, he laid down his rifle and other 
 
The Fight in the Valley 173 
 
 weapons, and, raising his empty palms to show his 
 unarmed condition and the peaceful nature of his 
 mission, he continued to advance. 
 
 Captain Tom now laid down his weapons, and, 
 jumping over the wall, walked toward the Indian. 
 They met about twenty rods from the fort. For, 
 possibly, ten minutes they stood talking together, 
 then the chief turned and strode back to his war- 
 riors, disdaining to give a single backward glance, 
 although he knew that he was within easy range of 
 the deadly rifles behind the logs. Captain Tom re- 
 turned to the barricade, and, as he jumped over the 
 walls inside the enclosure, there came a broad grin 
 on his face. 
 
 "Well, men," he said, "seems we won't have to 
 fight after all. Them there Indians have taken 
 pity on our helplessness and, not being bloody- 
 minded, they're willing to let us go without harm- 
 ing a hair of our heads, providing we'll get out of 
 their country just as fast as our legs will take us/' 
 and he paused to regard the astonished faces of the 
 trappers with twinkling eyes. 
 
 "Wai, I'll be durned!" ejaculated Ham. 
 
 "And providing," continued Captain Tom, his 
 face hardening, "that we'll leave all our weapons 
 behind." 
 
 "Never!" yelled a dozen of the men jumping to 
 their feet. "We don't give up no guns !" 
 
 "And further providing," continued Captain 
 Tom, his eyes beginning to snap, "that we leave all 
 
174 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 our mules and horses and traps and furs and bag- 
 gage behind." 
 
 "Wai, I'll be durned!" again ejaculated Ham. 
 
 "I told the chief we'd hang up a white flag, if it 
 was surrender ; and, if it was fight, we'd shoot off a 
 rifle. Now, what do you say, men?" and Captain 
 Tom straightened up to his full height, his strong 
 jaws set firmly. "Shall it be fight? or surrender?" 
 
 "Burn 'em ! Fight !" yelled Ham, jumping to his 
 feet. "Everybody that wants tew fight make it 
 manifest by shootin' his gun," and Ham threw his 
 own rifle to his shoulder. 
 
 As if worked by one pair of arms, the rifles of the 
 trappers and of Rex and Dill went to their 
 shoulders. In his excitement, even Pom threw his 
 own gun to his shoulder. 
 
 "Fire!" yelled Ham; and the rifles cracked and 
 Pom's shotgun boomed like a young cannon. 
 
 "Golly !" and Pom stood proudly rubbing his ach- 
 ing shoulder, "dat sartinly am a pow'ful fine gun 
 fo' kickin' an' bangin'. It done make mo' noise dan 
 a dozen ob dem crackers," and his eyes rested a bit 
 contemptuously on the rifles of the boys. 
 
 Both boys laughed, and complimented Pom on 
 his courage in shooting the gun off; and told him 
 "to load her up again" and to "be sure and put in a 
 big load," because now they were going to fight the 
 Indians and the gun might be the means of saving 
 him from being eaten up, sizzling hot. 
 
The Fight in the Valley 175 
 
 "Am we gwine to fight all dem redmans?" and 
 Pom looked from the Indians crowding in one end 
 of the valley, to the crowd of red warriors gathered 
 in the other end. 
 
 "Yes, Pom," Rex replied, his face sobering. 
 "It's fight, or be killed without fighting, and white 
 men will always fight for their lives." 
 
 "An' dis niggah can't nohow run away," and his 
 glance rolled around the surrounding valley, shut in 
 by wild and rugged mountains; "an' I's jes' gotter 
 fight, or dem scan'lous redmans done roast dis nig- 
 gah alibe an' eat him sizzlin' hot," and Pom shud- 
 dered. 
 
 "I reckon that's about it, Pom," and there was 
 no smile on Rex's face as he answered. 
 
 "Den I's gwine to make dis ol' gun do some pow'- 
 ful loud hollerin', eben if she done ram mah sho'l- 
 dah-blade tro' de back ob mah neck, befo' dem red- 
 mans gits dis niggah," and Pom began reloading 
 his gun, his fat face wrinkled into ludicrous lines 
 of determination. 
 
 The rifle volley of the trappers had been answered 
 by furious yells of defiance from the Indians; and 
 now they began slowly advancing toward the little 
 band of trappers from both ends of the valley, 
 spreading out as they advanced, so that when the 
 two bodies met there would be a complete circle of 
 armed warriors surrounding the little Fort by the 
 Big Rock. Rocks and trees and bushes partially 
 
176 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 hid the advancing Indians from the anxious eyes in 
 the fort; but their hideous yells told where they 
 were when the eye could not see them. 
 
 "Now, don't get excited and waste any bullets on 
 them while they're out of range," Captain Tom 
 cautioned, as the circling lines of yelling Indians 
 came nearer. "They'll try to draw our fire, and get 
 us to waste all the powder they can; and once our 
 powder's gone, we're gone," he ended sententiously. 
 
 The circle of Indians was now so near that it 
 seemed to Rex and Dill as if some of the savages 
 must be getting almost within range of their rifles ; 
 but not a gun was leveled at them. The trappers 
 stood, scattered at regular intervals around the en- 
 closure, their keen eyes quietly watching every 
 movement of the Indians, their long rifles held in 
 their hands ready for instant use; but there was no 
 excitement among them, only a tense watchfulness 
 that showed how ready they would be to act when 
 the time for action came. 
 
 About three hundred yards north of the little 
 fort, near the end of the pond, was a grove of willow 
 and cottonwood trees that spread out over the valley 
 for twenty or more rods. For some time the eyes 
 of Captain Tom had been watching this grove in- 
 tently. He now motioned Hammer Jones to his 
 side. 
 
 "Looks to me, Ham," he said, "as if the Indians 
 were getting ready for some devilment in that there 
 
The Fight in the Valley 177 
 
 grove. The woods are alive with them, or else my 
 eyes are failing me." 
 
 Ham stood for a couple of minutes, scrutinizing 
 the grove keenly, before he answered. Then he 
 turned to Captain Tom. 
 
 "I reckon you're right, Captain," he agreed. 
 "An', if I don't miss my calculations, they're gittin' 
 ready for a charge, a-hossback, tew. Seems as if 
 I could see hosses Hi ! Hello ! Wai, I'll be 
 durned!" 
 
 Captain Tom and Ham both turned quickly, for 
 at that moment a large body of mounted Indians 
 burst out from behind a ridge of rocks half a mile 
 to the south, and, yelling like fiends and lashing their 
 horses, rushed straight toward the barricade of logs. 
 
 "Hold your fire ! Hold your fire !" cried Captain 
 Tom, running to the threatened side of the fort. 
 "Don't shoot until you are sure of your Indian or 
 horse. We must make every shot of the first volley 
 count," and he threw his big Remington across the 
 top of the log barricade. 
 
 All the other trappers quickly followed Captain 
 Tom and Ham, Rex and Dill with the rest, leaving 
 the other sides of the fort unguarded for the mo- 
 ment. 
 
 It was a terrible sight, especially to eyes unac- 
 customed to such scenes of savage warfare, to see 
 those wild men on their wild looking horses, flour- 
 ishing their weapons and yelling their dreadful war- 
 
178 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 cries, rushing down upon that little band of trap- 
 pers, as if they would crush and overwhelm them, 
 as the angry hurricane crushes and overwhelms the 
 forest; and no wonder that the faces of Rex and Dill 
 grew white and the hands that held their rifles 
 trembled, as they stood with their guns held across 
 the top log of the wall and their eyes on the on-rush- 
 ing savages, waiting for the moment to shoot to 
 come. 
 
 Suddenly Captain Tom whirled about and looked 
 northward. In the excitement of the moment he 
 had almost forgotten the grove of trees in the other 
 end of the valley and the Indians seen gathering 
 there. At the first glance, even his bronzed face 
 whitened and the blood jumped with a bound 
 through his hot veins. 
 
 Fully two hundred Indians, all mounted on their 
 war-ponies, were riding, swift and silent as the 
 wind, straight toward the little fort. Already they 
 had covered nearly half the distance. In another 
 minute their cunning ruse would have been suc- 
 cessful. 
 
 "Quick! Ten of you men with me to the other 
 side of the fort! The rest remain where you are!" 
 and, even in the intense excitement of that moment, 
 there was no tremor in Captain Tom's voice, and not 
 for an instant were his wits confused. 
 
 "Down behind the logs !" he cried, as the ten men 
 leaped with him to the other side of the walled en- 
 closure. "Don't let the Indians see you until you 
 
The Fight in the Valley 179 
 
 shoot! We will give them a dose of their own 
 medicine. Don't a man of you shoot until I tell you 
 to!" and, with his lips drawn tightly across his set 
 teeth, Captain Tom crouched behind the logs, his 
 men crouching along the wall by his sides. 
 
 Rex and Dill had sprung with Captain Tom to 
 the opposite side of the fort ; and now bent, crouch- 
 ing with the others behind the wall, looking through 
 chinks between the logs at the on-coming Indians. 
 
 The Indians rode about six feet apart, six ranks 
 deep, naked to the breech-cloths, their weapons held 
 ready in their hands, their faces, contorted into 
 horrid grimaces, showing above their horses' heads ; 
 and not a sound coming from their dread ranks, but 
 the dull thuds of their horses' hoofs beating down 
 upon the long dry grass of the valley. 
 
 "Each man shoot at the Indian straight in front 
 of him," cautioned Captain Tom, "and don't pull 
 trigger until you're sure you've got your man 
 Steady Steady Wait !" 
 
 The Indians were now so near that they could see 
 their glistening bead-like eyes, even the fiendish 
 grins on their wild faces and still Captain Tom 
 remained impassive. 
 
 Now they were almost upon the log walls, were 
 just opening their mouths for the terrible war- 
 whoop 
 
 "I'll take the chief on the black horse. Now- 
 Ready Fire!" and Captain Tom sprang to his feet 
 and threw his rifle to his shoulder. 
 
I So With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 As one man the trappers leaped to their feet and 
 poured their bullets into the charging mass of In- 
 dians. 
 
 The chief reeled on the back of the black horse 
 and tumbled headlong to the ground. A dozen 
 other warriors swayed in their saddles, clinging 
 desperately to their horses' necks or falling off their 
 backs to the ground. 
 
 At this critical moment Pom managed to pluck 
 up courage enough to pull both triggers of his 
 heavily loaded shotgun; and, with a tremendous 
 bang bang, the two charges of buckshot were 
 poured into the jumbled mass of warriors and 
 horses. 
 
 A half a dozen Indians reeled in their saddles, 
 and a half a dozen horses plunged madly, while 
 Pom, himself, was kicked flat on his back; but the 
 shots had been the last straw needed to break the 
 back of the charge, and with wild yells the Indians 
 wheeled their horses about and fled, followed, before 
 they were out of range, by another volley from the 
 quickly-loaded rifles of the trappers. 
 
 During these stirring moments Hammer Jones 
 and the men who were with him at the south side 
 of the enclosure had been having an almost equally 
 exciting time. The Indians here had timed their 
 charge so as to come within range a few minutes 
 behind their comrades on the north ; but, when they 
 did come, they came like a whirlwind of savage 
 
HALF-A-DOZEN INDIANS REELED IN THEIR SADDLES. 
 
The Fight in the Valley 181 
 
 fury. The first volley of the trappers did not stop 
 them, although it emptied a number of their sad- 
 dles ; and they were within ten rods of the log walls 
 when the defeat of their comrades on the north, 
 knocked the wind all out of the sails of their courage, 
 and they fled precipitately out of range of those 
 deadly rifles behind the log walls. 
 
 Now, how the trappers did yell and cheer ! They 
 leaped upon top of the log walls and swung their 
 rifles around their heads and shouted their defiance 
 to their savage foes; and then they quieted down 
 and waited, with loaded rifles, for well they knew 
 that this was but the beginning of the battle. 
 
 "I reckon them Ingines got their stumicks plumb 
 full of chargin' that time," Ham said, smiling 
 grimly. "But they sure will want our scalps now 
 powerful bad, seein' we got so many of their men," 
 and his eyes glanced over the surrounding valley, 
 dotted here and there with the bodies of fallen In- 
 dians and horses. 
 
 "Golly !" and Pom stood before Rex and Dill, one 
 lip very much swollen from the effects of the gun 
 kick, his left hand held against his aching right 
 shoulder, "dat am a pow'ful gun fo' killin' Injuns," 
 and he glanced in the direction of his gun, which 
 still lay on the ground where it had been kicked by 
 its discharge. "I done sawed pieces ob redmans 
 flyin' ebbery whichways, when I shooted. I reckon 
 no redmans done gwine eat dis niggah now, sizzlin' 
 
1 82 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 hot," and he puffed out his fat chest as proudly as 
 if the defeat of the Indians had all been owing to 
 the prowess of his unaided arm. 
 
 "Bully for you, Pom," and Rex clapped the negro 
 boy heartily on the shoulder. "That certainly was 
 a great shot. But load your gun up again. The 
 Indians might make another charge almost any 
 time." 
 
 "Sartinly. I was jes' gwine to load her," and 
 Pom hurriedly picked up his gun and began ram- 
 ming powder and buckshot down its two barrels. 
 
 For a couple of hours after the charge the In- 
 dians made no hostile movements, but the warriors 
 could be seen gathered in excited groups out of 
 range all around the little valley, while their chiefs 
 and headmen were evidently holding a council of 
 war. At the end of this time, a string of warriors, 
 stretching across the eastern half of the lower end 
 of the valley began moving slowly toward the en- 
 campment. 
 
 "Now, what can th' vermints be up tew?" com- 
 mented Hammer Jones, as he and the other trappers 
 stood watching the advancing Indians with anxious 
 eyes. "Can you make out th' special brand of this 
 new kind of Ingine devilment, Tom ?" and he turned 
 to Captain Tom, who stood by his side scanning the 
 approaching line of warriors, his forehead corru- 
 gated with wrinkles. 
 
 "You've got me, Ham," Captain Tom replied, 
 "unless" 
 
The Fight in the Valley 183 
 
 He suddenly straightened up, his face whitening 
 beneath its tan, as the long line of Indians halted 
 and each warrior knelt and bent over in the grass. 
 
 "My God, they're going to set the grass on fire !" 
 he cried, as little curls of smoke were seen rising 
 upward in front of each Indian. "And there's 
 enough long dry grass in it to make it burn like 
 tinder ! And the wind is blowing right this way !" 
 He paused and looked anxiously around into the 
 whitening faces of the men. 
 
 Not a man there but knew at the first glance what 
 that long line of starting fires meant a wall of fire 
 swiftly growing higher and hotter as it came nearer, 
 racing down upon them with the speed of the wind, 
 charged with the hot breath of death, human 
 strength, human skill, human courage helpless to 
 stay its awful course. 
 
 For a minute the horrified men stared into the 
 faces of one another, then the look of grim daunt- 
 less courage, the courage that fears no death no 
 matter what the form it comes in, came back into 
 each face. 
 
 "We can take to th' water of th' pond," suggested 
 one of the trappers. 
 
 "Twould only be to make targets of ourselves 
 for the Indians," Captain Tom replied. "They'd 
 shoot us down afore we could get out of the water." 
 
 "Can't we git on our hosses an' charge th' skunks 
 up th' valley ? Better tew die fightin' that way, than 
 to stay here to be roasted like chunks of venison," 
 
184 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 and the eyes of Hammer Jones glinted savagely. 
 
 For a minute Captain Tom did not answer, but 
 stood, his eyes fixed on the long line of distant blazes 
 that were rapidly growing brighter and higher and 
 coming nearer, then his jaws came together with a 
 snap and he turned swiftly to the men. 
 
 "Ham is right/ 7 he said. "Saddle the horses and 
 the mules and we'll charge the devils. Some of us 
 might get through; and it is sure death to all of us 
 to stay here and it's roasting! Now get the sad- 
 dles on mighty quick, for there won't be a minute 
 to spare/' and he sprang for his own saddle and 
 bridle, and with him sprang all the other trappers 
 and Rex and Dill and Pom, each for his own horse 
 or mule. 
 
 And there was need of haste ; for by this time the 
 little blazes that the Indians had kindled had all 
 united into one great wall of fire, that, driven by the 
 wind, was rushing down upon them with the speed 
 of a race-horse, while in wake of the fire the exult- 
 ing Indians were yelling and dancing like fiends 
 incarnated. They knew that the charge of their 
 red ally could not be driven back, even by the deadly 
 bullets of the trappers. 
 
 In three minutes the saddles were all on the backs 
 of the horses and the mules ; and all were ready for 
 the charge seventeen white men against hundreds 
 of Indians hiding behind rocks and trees ! Not one 
 of them but knew what the issue would be a gal- 
 lant charge to an herioc death ! 
 
The Fight in the Valley 185 
 
 At this moment the eyes of Rex happened to 
 glance upward and rested on a jagged point of rock 
 that projected out from the top of the Big Rock 
 some thirty feet above his head. For an instant he 
 stared at that jagged point, and then he turned 
 quickly. 
 
 "Captain Tom," he cried excitedly, "look, there 
 at that point of rock!" and he pointed upward. 
 "Couldn't we throw a rope around it, and fasten it 
 there, and climb to the top of the rock? We'd be 
 out of the reach of the fire then, and " 
 
 "The boy is right!" almost yelled Captain Tom, 
 leaping toward their packs where a number of coils 
 of strong rope lay. 
 
 In a moment a dozen hands were swiftly at work 
 tying knots about a foot a part in the rope, to aid 
 them when climbing; and when a sufficient length 
 of rope, some sixty feet, had been thus prepared, 
 Captain Tom tied a stone in one end, and stepped 
 to the side of the rocks to throw it over the project- 
 ing point. At the first cast the stone passed over 
 the point of rock and fell to the ground on the 
 other side, leaving the rope hanging from the rock. 
 Captain Tom gripped both ropes together and pulled 
 strongly. The rope held firmly. 
 
 "Up with you!" and Captain Tom turned per- 
 emptorily to Rex. "You saw the point and you 
 go up first." 
 
 For an instant Rex hesitated, then he threw both 
 arms round the glossy neck of White Cloud, and 
 
1 86 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 sobbingly bid him good-by. He never thought to 
 see the noble gift of White Otter again. 
 
 "Hurry! There ain't a moment to waste," and 
 Captain Tom caught Rex by the shoulder and 
 pulled him toward the rope. 
 
 With a last look at White Cloud, Rex caught hold 
 of the rope and began rapidly climbing upward. 
 In a few seconds he had reached the point of rock 
 and pulled himself up on top of the Big Rock. 
 
 "Now, you/' and Captain Tom turned to Dill. 
 
 In a minute more Dill was by the side of Rex. 
 
 "Now, nig," and Captain Tom caught Pom by 
 the arm and jerked him toward the rope. "Get up 
 that rope like a streak of black lightning." 
 
 Pom rolled his eyes up toward the face of Cap- 
 tain Tom, grabbed the rope and went up it like a 
 squirrel up a tree. 
 
 Then one by one the trappers climbed the rope to 
 the top of the Big Rock. The rifles and an abund- 
 ance of ammunition and what food could be quickly 
 got together had been tied up into bundles; and 
 these were now swiftly pulled by ropes to the top of 
 the rock, Hammer Jones and Captain Tom alone 
 remaining on the ground. 
 
 "Now we must throw down the logs so that the 
 horses and mules can get out," and Captain Tom, 
 with Ham by his side, sprang to the wall of logs. 
 
 In another minute the two men had made an 
 opening large enough for the horses and mules to 
 escape; but they had not done this an instant too 
 
The Fight in the Valley 187 
 
 soon, for, as they leaped back to the rope, the wall 
 of fire was within a couple of rods of the Big Rock, 
 and the horses and mules were plunging madly, 
 crazed with fear. They could hear the roar of the 
 flames and feel their hot breaths, as they raced up 
 the rope ; and strong hands grabbed them and pulled 
 them to safety, just as the fire, with a rush and roar 
 swept down upon the Big Rock. 
 
 "Flat! Down flat on the rock!" panted Captain 
 Tom, as he threw himself, face down, at full length 
 on the rock. 
 
 In a minute the wall of fire had swept by ; but, in 
 that minute, so intense was the heat, that, even on 
 top of the rock thirty feet above the ground, our 
 friends felt as if they had been suddenly thrust into 
 a hot furnace, and then as quickly drawn out again, 
 as the cool breeze that followed the flames struck 
 them. 
 
 They found the center of the top of the Big Rock 
 as level as a floor, with a bulwark of rocks from a 
 foot to three feet high around its outer edge, suf- 
 ficient to protect them from the fire of the Indians. 
 
 For a few minutes after the fire had swept by they 
 lay almost motionless on the rock where they had 
 thrown themselves, then Captain Tom and Ham 
 began cautiously raising themselves up on their 
 knees. 
 
 "The rest of you stay right where you are, until 
 me and Ham see what them Indians are doing," 
 Captain Tom commanded, as he and Ham crept, 
 
i88 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 one to each side, and cautiously looked out over the 
 bulwark of rock. 
 
 From the south a large body of Indians were ad- 
 vancing on foot in the wake of the fire, as swiftly as 
 the heat from the still smoldering grass would allow 
 them. To the north the fire was still raging, of 
 course hiding everything else in that direction from 
 view. The horses and mules had all sought refuge 
 in the pond, and were now wading and swimming 
 toward its opposite side, where another large body of 
 Indians were waiting to capture them. Such were 
 the scenes that met the anxious eyes of Captain Tom 
 and Ham. 
 
 "Now everybody get their guns ready and keep 
 quiet and down where the Indians can't see you; 
 and we'll give them there advancing braves a mighty 
 unpleasant surprise party. They're expecting to 
 find nothing but roasting white flesh," and Captain 
 Tom smiled grimly. 
 
 The bundle containing the rifles was now as 
 quickly and as silently as possible undone; and, as 
 fast as each had his rifle in his hand, Captain Tom 
 or Ham stationed him along the south side of the 
 top of Big Rock, with instructions to keep down out 
 of sight of the advancing Indians until the word 
 was given. 
 
 The Indians came on slowly, their eyes on the 
 smoking pile of logs that had been the trappers' fort, 
 fearing that even the flames had failed to master 
 those terrible white men; but, when they came 
 
The Fight in the Valley 189 
 
 near and still saw no signs of life, their courage 
 grew. So far they had not uttered a war-whoop, 
 nor made a sound, but had crept silently over the 
 blackened ground toward the smoldering wall of 
 logs by the side of Big Rock. Now, when within 
 twenty rods of the rock, and still not a sound not a 
 motion from their dreaded foes, they felt assured 
 that the flames had well done their terrible work; 
 and, unable to longer control their impatience, they 
 yelled their war-whoops and sprang toward the 
 rock, eager to gloat their eyes on the smoking bodies 
 of their enemies. 
 
 At that moment Captain Tom turned to his com- 
 rades on the top of Big Rock. 
 
 "Now Steady Take good aim Ready 
 Fire !" he cried, and the sixteen rifles and the two 
 barrels of Pom's shotgun sent their bullets into the 
 ranks of the startled Indians. 
 
 For a moment the Indians acted as if stunned by 
 this unexpected volley, then, as they saw their com- 
 rades falling all around them, they whirled about 
 and fled in every direction, a dozen or more of them 
 in their panic running straight for the shelter of 
 Big Rock, unseen by the trappers, who were re- 
 loading their guns as swiftly as they could ram 
 powder and ball down them. 
 
 Again our trappers cheered lustily. 
 
 After this second disaster the Indians were too 
 wary to come within rifle range of Big Rock; but 
 contented themselves with shouting their defiance 
 
190 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 from a safe distance. They knew that all they had 
 to do now was to wait for starvation or thirst to 
 conquer the dauntless trappers. 
 
 It was now nearing the noon hour and the sun 
 beat down hotly on the top of Big Rock. During 
 the excitement of the fight and the fire our friends 
 had given no thought to their physical need; but 
 now, when all was quiet and they were safe from 
 any immediate danger, all discovered that they were 
 very thirsty, and with this discovery came the ter- 
 rible knowledge that they did not have a drop of 
 water with them on top of Big Rock. 
 
 "I'll climb down th' rope an 5 git sum water, while 
 you fellers keep th' Injuns at a distance," one of the 
 trappers said. "We've got to have water. I 
 reckon I can find somethin' down thar in which to 
 carry it up," and, picking up the knotted rope, which 
 had been drawn to the top of the rock, he tied one 
 end around the projecting point of rock, and, drop- 
 ping the other end to the ground, swung himself out 
 on the rope and started to climb down. 
 
 Rex was standing near the point of rock; and, 
 suddenly, just as the trapper's head was about to 
 pass below the edge of the rock, he saw a spasm of 
 pain and horror pass over the face, saw the hand 
 gripping the rope above the head let go, the head 
 drop downward, and, after a moment of horror, 
 heard the thud of the trapper's body when it hit 
 the ground below. The next instant the ears of all 
 were startled by the exultant war-whoops of the 
 
The Fight in the Valley 191 
 
 Blackfeet warriors, who had reached the shelter of 
 Big Rock unseen by the trappers and had remained 
 there hidden at its base. 
 
 There was nothing, absolutely nothing, the trap- 
 pers could do to help their comrade. The exulting 
 war-whoops told them that he was beyond all 
 earthly help ; and for one of them even to thrust his 
 head out over the edge of the rock to look down, 
 would be to court instant death from the arrows or 
 the bullets of the Indians below. 
 
 They were penned on top of Big Rock ! 
 
 There was no water procured that afternoon; 
 and, when at last the long hours of daylight had 
 passed slowly away and the chill and the darkness 
 of night came, all were suffering intensely from 
 thirst. If they lived they must have water before 
 many hours. 
 
 "I reckon it's up tew Rad Dawson tew git us out 
 of this hole, or ruther off th' top of this here rock," 
 Ham said, when it became so dark that it was im- 
 possible to see a rod away from the Big Rock. "An' 
 seein' thar's absolutely nuthin' we can do but jest 
 wait, I'm goin' tew try tew git some sleep, an' fergit 
 thar's such a thing as water," and he stretched him- 
 self out on the hard rock and, strange to say, in a 
 few minutes, in spite of his thirst and the cold the 
 hardy man was sound asleep. 
 
 Nearly all the other trappers followed Ham's ex- 
 ample and, like him, in spite of the cold and their 
 thirst, succeeded in going to sleep ; but there was no 
 
192 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 sleep for Rex and Dill that night. They had no 
 blankets, and, in addition to their thirst, which was 
 becoming more insistent each moment, they suffered 
 greatly from the cold. Throughout all the long 
 hours of that terrible night they sat close together, 
 their backs to a rock, hardly speaking a word, but 
 every now and then giving each other a reassuring 
 clasp of the hand. Around them, in the distance, 
 they could see the camp-fires of their enemies burn- 
 ing brightly, and, until long after midnight, they 
 could hear the sounds of their wild orgies. 
 
 But the longest, the most horrible of nights must 
 come to an end sometime; and, at last, the anxious 
 eyes of Rex and Dill were gladdened by the sight of 
 a red glow in the east that told them day was dawn- 
 ing. The sun would at least bring warmth; but 
 their thirst, the horrible dryness that was parching 
 their tongues and cracking their lips, what help was 
 there for that ? 
 
 Almost at the same moment that the first rays of 
 the morning sun touched the top of Big Rock a 
 volley of rifle shots broke the stillness of the early 
 morning; and the Indians in the lower end of the 
 valley were seen to be in the wildest commotion. A 
 moment later there came another rifle volley, then 
 another, followed by loud cheers, and then a con- 
 fused mass of Indians rushed out of the narrows at 
 the southern end of the valley and fled northward 
 in every direction, some mounted on horses and 
 others running, but all in a great panic. 
 
The Fight in the Valley 193 
 
 "It's Rad and a brigade of trappers !" cried Cap- 
 tain Tom, leaping joyously to his feet at the sound 
 of the first rifle volley. "I knowed he'd bring us 
 help. Hurrah!" and all joined in the hurrah as 
 loudly as their parched and cracked throats and lips 
 would permit. 
 
 "They've got 'em stampeded!" shouted Ham a 
 moment later, as the Indians broke and fled north- 
 ward. "An' thar they come ! Hurra ! ! Hurra ! ! !" 
 he yelled, swinging his hat wildly around his head, 
 as a compact body of wild looking men dressed in 
 deerskins, sprang into sight in the lower end of the 
 valley, and, yelling and shooting at the fleeing In- 
 dians, swept northward straight toward the Big 
 Rock. 
 
 In their excitement and joy at their deliverance 
 our trappers gave no thought to the Indians con- 
 cealed at the base of Big Rock; and they fled north- 
 ward without a shot being fired at them by our 
 friends on the top of the rock. 
 
 With loud cheers, the trappers, one hundred and 
 fifty strong, swept on up the valley, coming as 
 swiftly as they could make their sturdy little horses 
 run ; and before them, as fast as horse legs and man 
 legs could carry them, fled the Indians to the north- 
 ern outlet of the valley, where they rallied behind 
 the rocks of the defile and yelled their defiance to 
 the trappers. 
 
 "Now, let's give them a volley and a cheer, just to 
 let them know that we're still alive and mighty glad 
 
194 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 to see them," Captain Tom cried, as the band of 
 trappers came nearer. "Everybody ready! One 
 two three Fire !" 
 
 All, at the command of Captain Tom, had sprung 
 to their feet, their rifles to their shoulders, and, at 
 the word, fire, every rifle banged joyously and again 
 the two barrels of Pom's old shotgun boomed loudly, 
 while the lusty cheers that followed cracked their 
 parched lips until the blood ran. 
 
 The advancing trappers answered with loud 
 shouts and a rifle volley, and came dashing on to- 
 ward the Big Rock faster than ever. 
 
 At the head of the brigade of trappers rode a man 
 on a large gray horse. For sometime the eyes of Rex 
 and Dill had been on this man. Both were wonder- 
 ing if the leader of the band of trappers might not 
 be the man they were so anxious to see Kit Car- 
 son. At last Dill could contain his impatience no 
 longer, and he turned to Hammer Jones. 
 
 "Isn't that man on the big horse Kit Carson?" he 
 asked. "He looks something like the way father 
 described Kit." 
 
 "He sure does look some like Kit," Ham an- 
 swered; "but I can't jest make out for sartin who 
 he is yit." 
 
 At that moment the man on the gray horse turned 
 in his saddle to give an order to his men, and Ham, 
 for a moment, caught a clear view of his profile, and 
 his face lighted up. 
 
 "It's Jim Bridger an' his trappers!" he declared 
 
The Fight in the Valley 195 
 
 joyously. "Now let's git down off this rock as fast 
 as th' good Lord '11 let us, git some water inside of 
 us, an' be ready tew welcome them," and he swung 
 the knotted rope, one end of which was still fastened 
 to the projecting point of rock, down to the ground, 
 and, catching hold of it, began rapidly to descend. 
 
 Rex and Dill and Pom were not allowed to climb 
 down the rope until all the trappers had reached the 
 ground. This gave Captain Tom and Ham time to 
 remove and cover the horribly mutilated remains of 
 the trapper the Indians had killed ; and all the boys 
 saw of the corpse was its outline as it lay concealed 
 under a partly burned blanket. They buried the 
 unfortunate trapper at the base of the southern side 
 of Big Rock, and one of the trappers cut his name 
 and the date of his death into the rock with his 
 hunting-knife a fitting monument to the rugged 
 manhood lying at its base. 
 
 The moment Rex and Dill reached the ground, 
 they hurried to the spring and slaked their burning 
 thirst with long drafts of cool water. Then they 
 were ready to give their attention to the on-coming 
 trappers. 
 
 "Why, they look more like Indians than they do 
 like white men !" Rex declared, as the wild looking 
 knights of the mountains came dashing up to the 
 Big Rock, yelling and flourishing their long rifles 
 about their heads, and making no attempt to stop 
 the headlong rush of their horses until they were 
 almost upon our little party of trappers, when they 
 
196 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 brought them to a halt with a suddenness that threw 
 the animals back on their haunches, and, leaping 
 from their saddles, crowded tumultuously around 
 Captain Tom and his men. 
 
 And, indeed, Rex had not inaptly described these 
 wild free men of the plains and the mountains when 
 he declared they looked more like Indians than they 
 did like whitemen. Many of them had lived in the 
 wilderness for years, without even a glimpse of the 
 rough civilization of the settlements, and all of them 
 had been trapping for months, and, consequently, 
 their equipments were in a picturesque condition of 
 dilapidation. 
 
 They were dressed in long loose coats of deerskin, 
 tied in front with leather thongs, deerskin trousers 
 and leggins and Indian moccasins. On their heads 
 were skin caps, usually with the tails of the animals 
 from whose fur they were made hanging down be- 
 hind. All of these garments were of their own rude 
 manufacture ; and their soiled and worn appearance 
 spoke convincingly of the rough life their wearers 
 had been living. Under the right arm of each 
 swung his powder horn and bullet pouches, while the 
 broad belt around his waist held his hunting-knife, 
 sheathed in buffalo hide, a small hatchet, and a 
 pocket-like buckskin case containing a whetstone, 
 spare flints, steel, an awl for mending purposes, and 
 various little odds and ends. Their long-barreled 
 rifles were held in their hands, where they would 
 be ready for instant use. 
 
The Fight in the Valley 197 
 
 Did you ever stop to think, boys, how much 
 America, your country owes to these same long- 
 barreled rifles? They protected the lives and fed 
 and clothed the bodies of the pioneers, the hunters 
 and the trappers, as they tracked the way for civili- 
 zation from the Atlantic to the Pacific. When they 
 needed food, they shot it with their rifles. When 
 they required clothing, they found it on the backs of 
 animals they killed with their rifles. When their 
 lives were threatened by wild beasts or wild Indians, 
 again it was their rifles that killed or drove off the 
 beasts or the Indians and protected their lives. 
 With this rifle in his hand, the American pioneer 
 was independent, having the wherewithal to feed 
 and cloth his body and to protect his life, and dared 
 go anywhere; without it he would have been help- 
 less on the great plains and in the mountains and 
 woods. Rifleless he could not have existed a week 
 in the wilderness. 
 
 Now this same long-barreled rifle, this provider 
 and protector of our forefathers, this pronouncer 
 of the doom of savagery and the herald of civiliza- 
 tion, is, as all things must be some day, an ancient 
 thing, relegated to the museum and the garret. 
 Doubtless, even, many of the boys who read this 
 story never saw one of these "ancient" weapons, 
 and have at best but an inadequate picture in their 
 minds of the gun itself, when they read of the long- 
 barreled rifles of the trappers ; and for such, in order 
 that they may know just what sort of a weapon Rex 
 
198 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 and Dill and their good friends, the trappers, car- 
 ried, that they may know what this protector and 
 provider of the wilderness looked like, a brief pen 
 picture of the "ancient" weapon is here given. 
 
 Take, for the illustration, the rifle of Hammer 
 Jones. It was a good rifle, of that you may be sure, 
 and typical of all the rifles of that period. The bar- 
 rel was a little over four feet long, thick and heavy, 
 and the stock strongly curved downward, so that 
 the sights came up to the level of the eye easily and 
 quickly. A brass patch-box was set in the right 
 hand side of the stock, in which Ham kept the little 
 pieces of greased cloth or other material, which he 
 wrapped around the bullets to make them fit the 
 bore tightly before he rammed them down the bar- 
 rel. The lock was a flint-lock, that is it was fired 
 by sparks struck from a small piece of flint held by 
 the hammer. The sights hugged the barrel closely, 
 the fore sight being made of silver and shaped 
 something like a crescent, and the rear sight con- 
 sisting of a flat finely notched bar twelve inches 
 from the breech of the barrel. Beneath the lock 
 was a delicately arranged set-trigger, that enabled 
 the gun to be fired with so slight a pressure that the 
 aim was not disturbed in the least. The ball was 
 round and small, some forty to the pound. The 
 ramrod, which Ham himself had whittled out with 
 the utmost care from a straight-grained piece of 
 hickory wood, was carried in metal pipes fastened 
 
The Fight in the Valley 199 
 
 to the long wooden stock that extended under the 
 barrel almost to the muzzle. 
 
 Such, then, was the appearance of this famous 
 long-barreled rifle of the western trappers, a weapon 
 of deadly accuracy in skilled hands. 
 
 For a few minutes after the meeting of the two 
 bands of trappers there was so much excitement and 
 confusion, so much congratulatory hand shaking 
 and clapping on the backs, so many questions to be 
 asked and answered, that Rex and Dill had no 
 thoughts for anything else; but, presently the ex- 
 citement began to quiet down, and then both boys 
 turned eagerly to Hammer Jones. 
 
 "Is Kit Carson with them?" Rex asked, his eyes 
 searching anxiously the bronzed faces of the 
 trappers. 
 
 "No," Ham replied. "If Kit had been with them 
 we'd a-heard from him afore now." 
 
 "But," broke in Dill eagerly, "some of them may 
 know where we can find him." 
 
 "That might be," assented Ham. "An' if any on 
 'em knows whar Kit is, 'twill be Jim Bridger. 
 Come 'long; we'll ask Jim," and, followed by the 
 two anxious boys, Ham started to where Bridger 
 stood talking with Captain Tom. 
 
 Jim Bridger at this date, he was only twenty- 
 eight years old, had not yet reached the fullness of 
 his after fame as a trapper, hunter, scout, Indian 
 fighter and guide ; but he was already known among 
 
200 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 the hardy veterans of the mountains and the plains, 
 where leadership could be won only by fearlessness 
 and skill, as one of the boldest and most successful 
 of the leaders of the Rocky Mountain Fur Company. 
 
 "Here are tew boys from New Oceans, Jim, who 
 are mighty anxious tew find Kit Carson/' Ham an- 
 nounced, as he and the boys reached the place where 
 the two leaders of the trappers stood talking; "an' 
 I told 'em you was th' man tew come tew for that 
 kind of information." 
 
 "Yes," explained Captain Tom, "we've been sent 
 out by Captain Young to find Kit Carson for these 
 boys. They've got a message for him from Noel 
 Conroyal. Maybe you knowed Con, Jim ? One of 
 the lads is Con's boy, Dill, and the other is his 
 nephew, Rex Holt," and Captain Tom pointed to 
 each boy as he mentioned his name. 
 
 "Know Con Conroyal? Wai, I reckon I do!" 
 and Bridger caught hold of Dill's hand and shook 
 it warmly. "An' mighty glad I am tew see his boy 
 an' nephey," and he grabbed the hand of Rex. "On 
 th' hunt fer Kit Carson, be you? Wai, Kit's trap- 
 pin' sumwhar 'long th' head waters of th' Missoury ; 
 but only th' good Lord could tell whar tew find him 
 afore th' rendezvous next summer. Kit's sartin 
 tew be thar. So I reckon th' best thing fer you tew 
 do," and he turned to Captain Tom, "is tew j'in us. 
 We're on our way tew winter quarters 'bout fifty 
 miles further up th' Sweetwater, an' we'll be power- 
 ful pleased tew have you an' yer men go 'long with 
 
The Fight in the Valley 201 
 
 us, an' spend th' winter thar with us in our winter 
 quarters." 
 
 For a minute or two Captain Tom studied the 
 situation before answering, then he turned to 
 Bridger. 
 
 "Thank you, Jim," he said. "We will go 'long 
 with you. Now let's see what the fire and the In- 
 dians have left us," and he turned to examine what 
 remained of the little fort and its contents. 
 
 The two tents had been burnt to the ground and 
 about half of the blankets had been ruined. The 
 mule-packs and the furs they had caught had been 
 piled in one of the tents, and over these had been 
 thrown the dozen or more buffalo skins, taken from 
 the animals they had killed during the great buffalo 
 hunt. The heat had spoiled nearly all the buffalo 
 skins; but the packs and furs were almost unin- 
 jured. The Indians, apparently, had touched 
 nothing, doubtless on account of their fear of the 
 rifles on the top of Big Rock. 
 
 Rex and Dill, with Pom by their sides, were 
 looking anxiously through the pile of packs for their 
 own pack, to see if all their belongings were safe, 
 when Pom, who was helping them move some of the 
 packs, suddenly straightened up with a wild yell of 
 terror and went sprawling backward over a pile of 
 beaver furs. At the same moment the pack that 
 Pom had been about to lift was pushed aside, and 
 with a glad whine, Buster, the grizzly bear cub, 
 rushed to the side of Rex. 
 
202 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 Both boys welcomed the animal with a glad 
 shout, and Rex threw his arms around the shaggy 
 neck and hugged him tightly, Buster showing his 
 joy in his own bearish way; for the bear had be- 
 come very dear to Rex, especially since he had saved 
 White Cloud from the Blackfoot Indian. 
 
 "Now, if I only had White Cloud back," Rex 
 said, as he straightened up, "if I only had White 
 Cloud back, I'd be a happy boy. I don't believe I 
 can ever find another horse like White Cloud; and 
 and he was just getting so that he knew and liked 
 me," and the boy's voice trembled and tears came 
 into his eyes as he thought of White Otter's noble 
 gift. 
 
 But White Cloud, together with all the other 
 horses and mules of our trappers, had vanished 
 with the Indians. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 [WINTER QUARTERS 
 
 THE Indians still occupied the pass in the north 
 end of the valley ; but Bridger and his trappers 
 had traveled all night, in their haste to get to the 
 valley; and, now that they had rescued Captain 
 Tom and his men, they felt more like sleeping than 
 they did like fighting; and so no move was made to 
 dislodge the Blackfeet. 
 
 "If they're thar in th' mornin', we'll git after 
 them/' Jim Bridger said. "But, if I know Black- 
 foot nater, they've had all th' fight they want, an' 
 thar won't be one on 'em within twenty miles of har 
 by tew-morrow's sunup. Now we'll jest git all th' 
 sleep we can an* be ready tew git out of har tew- 
 
 morrer." 
 
 Accordingly guards were stationed, and the tired 
 trappers stretched themselves out on their blankets ; 
 and soon forgot their weariness and battles in sleep. 
 
 Rex and Dill, it will be remembered that they, too, 
 had passed a sleepless night, now that the excite- 
 ment was over, found it next to impossible to keep 
 their tired eyes open, and, in a short time they fol- 
 lowed the example of the trappers, and were soon 
 away from all their hardships and dangers in the 
 
 203 
 
204 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 pleasant Land of Dreams. And so wearied in bod- 
 ies and minds were the two boys that they slept 
 soundly all through the remainder of that day and 
 the following night, and never once woke up, until 
 the sun of the next day was beginning to lighten the 
 tops of the eastern mountains. 
 
 It was still quite dark when Rex jumped out of 
 his blanket the next morning and hurried to the 
 pond to wash his face and hands. As he bent over 
 the water he heard the distant nicker of a horse, 
 coming from toward the north end of the pond, 
 away from where the horses of the trappers were 
 corralled. 
 
 "It must be a horse that has escaped from the In- 
 dians," thought Rex, as he straightened up and 
 looked in the direction of the sound. 
 
 At first he could see nothing. Then, as his eyes 
 became more accustomed to the morning light, he 
 saw, standing on a little knoll, about twenty rods 
 away, near the north end of the pond, the dim out- 
 line of a horse. At the first glimpse of the horse 
 something familiar in the way the animal stood 
 caused the blood to jump in the boy's veins ; and the 
 next moment he was racing madly toward the knoll ; 
 and two minutes later his arms were around the 
 neck of White Cloud, and he was laughing and 
 shouting, yes, and crying, at least there were tears 
 in his eyes, while White Cloud was rubbing his nose 
 softly against his young master and in other horse- 
 ways was trying to show how pleased he was to see 
 
Winter Quarters 205 
 
 him. In a few minutes more a crowd of excited 
 trappers had gathered around Rex and White 
 Cloud; and, when it was discovered that the horse 
 had been fastened by a rope around his neck to a 
 picket firmly driven into the ground, showing that 
 the beautiful animal had been purposely left by the 
 Indians, their astonishment was very great; and 
 Rex had an intensely interested audience, as he told 
 Jim Bridger and his trappers how he had rescued 
 the Blackfoot chief, White Otter, from the Buffalo 
 bull, at the sacrifice of his horse, and how the young 
 chief had given him White Cloud to replace the 
 horse he had lost, and how, doubtless, it was he who 
 had now returned the beautiful animal to him again. 
 
 "An' thar's th' chief's sign manuel," supple- 
 mented Hammer Jones, as he stepped up to White 
 Cloud and laid his hand on an otter skin firmly tied 
 to the hair of the horse's mane. "Now, I reckon, 
 that thar Ingine otter have been born white." 
 
 Rex was a very happy boy as he led White Cloud 
 back to camp and picketed him near the Big Rock. 
 
 As soon as it became daylight scouts were sent 
 out to see if the Indians were still in the pass at the 
 north end of the valley. They found that Jim 
 Bridger had proved a true prophet; for not an In- 
 dian was to be found anywhere. They had fled 
 during the darkness of the night, and were now, 
 doubtless, many miles away. 
 
 On the return of the scouts orders were at once 
 given to break camp; and, in a quarter of an hour, 
 
206 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 the long cavalcade of trappers was riding slowly out 
 of the Valley of the Big Rock, on its way to winter 
 quarters. 
 
 Bridger and his trappers had very nearly evened 
 matters up with the Indians for our friends in the 
 way of horse-flesh; for they had captured forty 
 sturdy little ponies from the Blackfeet; and these, 
 with the hearty generosity of the West, they had 
 given to Captain Tom and his trappers to replace 
 the horses and mules they had lost, so that all had 
 horses to ride and to carry their packs. 
 
 It was now the last of September, and in that re- 
 gion the first week in October often saw a heavy fall 
 of snow that would make the mountains almost im- 
 passable to man and beast. Consequently Jim 
 Bridger was anxious to get the brigade of trappers 
 in the neighborhood of the place where they ex- 
 pected to go into camp for the winter as soon as pos- 
 sible. Once there, they could trap through the sur- 
 rounding country, until the rigors of winter forced 
 them to desist, when they would be prepared to go 
 into permanent camp and make themselves comfort- 
 able for the winter. 
 
 Rex and Dill, before passing through the narrows 
 in the lower end of the valley, turned in their sad- 
 dles for a last look at the scene of their battle with 
 the fierce Blackfeet warriors. All now looked 
 serene and peaceful. The placid waters of the 
 pond shone like a mirror in the bright rays of the 
 morning sun. The blackened path of the fire, and 
 
Winter Quarters 207 
 
 the ruins of the little fort around the Big Rock alone 
 spoke of the fierce conflict that had raged there but 
 a few hours before. As their eyes rested on the 
 Big Rock the hearts of both boys saddened; for 
 there at its base they had left a comrade in his lonely 
 grave. And yet they could but feel that the trapper 
 had found a most fitting resting-place, with the huge 
 rock, an everlasting monument, towering above his 
 body, in the midst of a beautiful valley, surrounded 
 by the mountains that he had loved so well; and 
 both lads felt like saying amen to the words of Ham, 
 as the big trapper turned for a last look at the grave 
 of his comrade. 
 
 "I reckon that's 'bout th 5 spot Dan would have 
 picked out, thar by the side of that great rock, whar 
 th' mountains'll be all around him, if he could have 
 had his ch'ice," he said, as his eyes grew pensive. 
 "Dan always did love th' mountains. But 'tain't 
 no use spec'latin' on th' feelin' of th' dead," and he 
 resolutely turned his head away from the Big Rock 
 and the lonely grave of the trapper. 
 
 All that day and all the next day Bridger led his 
 trappers up the valley of the Sweetwater, and then 
 on the morning of the third day he turned aside 
 from the river, passed through the southern spur 
 of the Bighorn Mountains, and about the middle of 
 the afternoon of that day came to a large but se- 
 cluded valley, sheltered from the storms of winter 
 by the lofty peaks of the Wind River Mountains on 
 the west and the rugged walls of the lofty Bighorn 
 
2o8 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 Mountains on the north and east. A stream of 
 water that the trappers called Elk Creek, flowed 
 through the center of the valley, the ground was 
 covered with a thick carpet of grass, and here and 
 there over its surface and along the shores of the 
 rivulet were little groves of trees. An abundance 
 of water, wood and grass, protection from the fierce- 
 est blasts of the winter's storms Jim Bridger had 
 chosen well the place for his winter encampment, for 
 this was the valley where he had elected to make his 
 winter quarters. 
 
 That night the weather turned cold, so cold that 
 in the morning ice an inch thick covered a small 
 beaver pond near the spot where they had pitched 
 camp, and the distant tops of the Wind River Moun- 
 tains were white with new-fallen snow. 
 
 "I reckon we got here jest in time," Ham said, as 
 he and the two boys stood looking at the snow- 
 covered mountains that morning. "Them clouds 
 hangin' round th' mountain tops means more snow 
 an' th' air's got th' feel of winter in it. But I reckon 
 we can make ourselves mighty comfortable here;" 
 and his eyes glanced around the valley. "We'll git 
 right tew work an' build us a snug little house, as 
 soon as Jim an' Captain Tom have decided jest whar 
 tew make th' permanent camp." 
 
 Captain Tom and Jim Bridger spent the morning 
 looking the valley over for the best place to make 
 their winter camp; and finally decided on a little 
 grove of trees, some ten acres in extent, that covered 
 
Winter Quarters 209 
 
 the rounded top of a small hill. A spring of water 
 bubbled up from a depression near the top of this 
 hill and wound its way down to the waters of Elk 
 Creek, not more than twenty rods away, while the 
 surrounding valley, for a distance of a couple of 
 hundred yards or more, presented no shelter that 
 might be used by an enemy to protect them in an 
 attack on the camp, a possibility that our trappers 
 must never overlook. 
 
 The next three days all were busy getting the 
 camp in shape for the winter. A space some ten 
 rods square was cleared near the center of the little 
 woods; and along the north and east sides of this 
 little opening the trappers built their huts from the 
 logs of the trees which their sharp axes cut down, 
 thatching them with long strips of bark weighted 
 down with poles. Along the west side of the open- 
 ing they built a long covered shed, to protect their 
 animals from the cold and the snow. The enclos- 
 ure of the opening was completed by building a 
 strong wall of logs six feet high along the south 
 side, a large gate being made in this wall through 
 which the horses could be driven to and from their 
 pasture. A strong fence, running diagonally from 
 the northwest corner to the southeast corner, divided 
 the enclosure into two parts, the part containing the 
 shed being, of course, for the horses, and the other 
 for the use of the men; for it would be necessary 
 to corral and guard the horses every night to pro- 
 tect them from the bears and the mountain lions as 
 
2io With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 well as from thieving Indians, and it would not do 
 to give the animals the full liberty of the enclosure, 
 hence the fence separating the camp of the men 
 from the corral of the horses. Loopholes, about 
 six feet apart, were made through the walls all 
 around the enclosure, so that in case of an attack by 
 the Indians the encampment could be quickly trans- 
 formed into a fort. 
 
 When this had all been done there was left only 
 a thin fringe of surrounding trees, through which, 
 when cleared of all underbrush and stumps and 
 logs, the valley beyond could be clearly seen, and 
 which, even should they succeed in reaching it, 
 would give attacking Indians but little protection. 
 
 Thus the camp was speedily put into condition, 
 not only to protect our trappers from the cold and 
 the storms of winter, but also to guard against any 
 possible attack by the Indians. 
 
 These had been intensely interesting and busy 
 days for Rex and Dill. There was their own log 
 hut to build and to make as comfortable as possible 
 for the winter. In this they were assisted by Ham- 
 mer Jones and Rad Dawson and Pom, who were 
 to be their camp mates; and both lads had worked 
 with unfaltering enthusiasm until their little house, 
 with its skin-covered sleeping bunks of sweet- 
 scented balsam boughs, its smooth dirt floor, its 
 chunks of logs for chairs, its tight walls of logs and 
 roof of bark, really did look very comfortable and 
 cozy, especially at night time when a crackling fire 
 
Winter Quarters 211 
 
 was blazing in the center of its one room, the sparks 
 and smoke shooting upward through a small hole 
 made in the center of the roof and its ruddy light 
 glowing warmly on the faces of the occupants and 
 on the rough log walls of the cabin. And then there 
 was the pride of personal achievement and owner- 
 ship in all this. They had helped to make the house 
 with their own hands, and it was theirs. 
 
 "I don't suppose mother and the girls would think 
 this much for comfort/' Dill said, when at last the 
 hut was completed near the close of the third day, 
 as he lifted the bearskin door and looked in; "but 
 really, I don't see how we could wish for anything 
 more comfortable and cozy than this." 
 
 "We don't!" was the emphatic rejoinder of Rex. 
 "If by just waving my hand I could replace this 
 little house that we have helped to make with our 
 own hands, with one of the best houses in New Or- 
 leans, I would not make the wave. It would not 
 seem natural or right to live any other way than 
 this, with these great silent mountains standing 
 guard all around us. I am perfectly satisfied with 
 our house just as it is ; and I think it is going to be 
 great living here all winter long, with nothing to do 
 but just to enjoy ourselves." 
 
 "Jest a winter picnic," laughed Ham, who was 
 standing near. "But, I reckon, 'twon't be all playin' 
 an' no workin'. 'Twill take considerable meat tew 
 feed all these mouths, which means a lot of trampin' 
 over these mountains a-lookin' for it.' ; 
 
 I 
 
212 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 "But that means hunting buffalos, and deer, and 
 bears, and mountain sheep, and other things," broke 
 in Rex his eyes sparkling. "And who would ever 
 think of hunting as working?" 
 
 "Wai/' and again Ham laughed, "I'm powerful 
 glad tew see you yunks a-tryin' tew make th' best of 
 a mighty good thing. Accordin' tew my notion 
 thar ain't no kind of livin' anywhar else that jest 
 measures right up tew th' bigness of living wild-like 
 in these here mountains. Now, whar else on arth 
 could you see a picter th' equal of that?" and Ham 
 pointed with one hand across the valley to where the 
 sun was sinking in a red glory of clouds behind the 
 distant snow-covered peaks of the Wind River 
 Mountains. 
 
 And, indeed, it was a wonderful and glorious 
 scene toward which the hand of Ham was pointing 
 and the eyes of all were looking. Flanked on either 
 side by masses of storm clouds, the sun hung just 
 above a particularly wild and rugged mountain 
 peak, glowing like a mighty beacon-fire, and color- 
 ing with the magic brush of its rays the flanking 
 storm clouds until the glory of their blending hues 
 was beyond the power of words to picture, and 
 transforming the snow- and ice-covered peak into 
 an iridescent jeweled point, sparkling with diamonds 
 and glowing with rubies and topazes and opalescent 
 with pearls. 
 
 " 'Pears like de good Lo'd hab done throwed open 
 de golden gates ob hebben, jes' fo' to gib us a 
 
Winter Quarters 213 
 
 glimpse ob de glories beyond," Pom said reverently, 
 his eyes on the wondrous scene. 
 
 And everyone of those rugged trappers felt like 
 saying amen to the sentiment expressed in the negro 
 boy's homely words. 
 
 The next morning, when Rex and Dill opened 
 their eyes, there seemed to be an unwonted stillness 
 in the air outside, as if all nature were asleep. Even 
 the noises made by the horses, moving uneasily in 
 their shed, had a far-off muffled sound, as if many 
 heavy blankets had been hung between them and the 
 horse corral during the night. For a few minutes, 
 the two boys lay wondering what the unusual silence 
 meant ; then Rex threw off his bearskin comforters, 
 and, jumping out of his bunk, hurried to the door- 
 way, and, pulling aside the heavy grizzly bear skin 
 that did duty for a door, looked out. 
 
 "Hurrah !" he yelled, the moment his eyes caught 
 sight of the scene outside. "Everything is covered 
 with snow ; and the snow is falling so thick that it 
 looks as if the air was just made out of great white 
 snowflakes. Why, I can't see even a sign of the 
 horse corral! I must get out into it, and see how 
 White Cloud is faring," and he hastened back to his 
 bunk to slip on his outdoor clothing. 
 
 Rex and Dill had been born in New Orleans and 
 had always lived in New Orleans ; and this expedi- 
 tion in search of Kit Carson was their first venture 
 into the northlands of cold and ice and snow. Con- 
 sequently this was the first big snow storm that the 
 
214 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 lads had ever seen, the first time they had ever been 
 able to wade and plunge and tumble about, as boys 
 will ever delight in doing, in the pure white snow- 
 flakes, piled nearly a foot deep over everything, and 
 for a time, both lads were wild with the delightful 
 novelty of playing in the new-fallen snow, and 
 watching the thick falling flakes. 
 
 The snow was damp and packed easily; and the 
 moment Ham and Rad Dawson stepped outside of 
 the hut they were saluted with rapid volleys of snow- 
 balls and whoops of delight from the two boys. 
 The challenge to battle was promptly accepted by 
 the two men; and, in a moment more, snowballs 
 were flying furiously in every direction, while the 
 yells of the contestants awoke every one in camp. 
 
 As fast as they could dress the trappers rushed 
 outdoors ; and, as soon as one of them appeared, he 
 was greeted with a volley of snowballs that sent him 
 scurrying to the protection of either one side or the 
 other of the snow-fighters. In a very few minutes 
 at least a hundred men had joined in the snow- 
 fight, and a battle royal was raging all over the en- 
 closure, while the air was filled with the exultant 
 yells of the trappers as their snowballs crashed 
 against the bodies of one another. Like a lot of 
 joyous schoolboys out on a winter's frolic, they 
 fought, always good-naturedly, now hurling volleys 
 of snowballs, now rushing to close quarters, when 
 they struggled each to throw and wash the face of 
 the other. Noses and eyes were thumped with 
 
Winter Quarters 215 
 
 balls, ears were filled and necks were jammed with 
 snow; but still the battle went riotously on, until at 
 last the merry spirit of frolic was satisfied, and the 
 great snow-fight was over. 
 
 Rex and Dill had been in the hottest of the fray. 
 Where the snowballs flew thickest, where the strug- 
 gling crowd of trappers was the densest, there in the 
 very midst the boys were sure to be; and, when at 
 last the great fight was done, the two lads were not 
 without their "honorable wounds" to show how 
 bravely they had fought. The right eye of Rex 
 was red and just a little swollen, likewise his left 
 cheek, and both ears were full of snow, while a 
 trickling stream of water running down his back 
 gave warning that his neck needed shoveling out. 
 Dill had fared no better. His nose was bleeding 
 from a snowball that had landed on its end, and both 
 cheeks were red from the severe snow-washing Ham 
 had given them, while his hair and ears and neck 
 were "chuck" full of snow and his clothing was 
 covered with snow. But both boys had enjoyed 
 themselves immensely, and what did their little hurts 
 matter ? 
 
 "My, but wasn't it fun?" Rex declared, as he dug 
 the snow out of the back of his neck. "I wish they 
 had big snow storms in New Orleans. Wouldn't 
 we boys have fun fighting snow battles?" 
 
 "You bet!" Dill agreed enthusiastically. "But, 
 say, what has become of Pom? I don't remember 
 seeing him in the fight." 
 
216 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 "He wasn't there, the black rascal! But we'll 
 give him his winter baptism just the same, as sure 
 as his name is Napolyun Bonapart Jerusal'm Jones. 
 Come on/' and Rex, followed by Dill,, dove through 
 the doorway of their hut. 
 
 At first they could see nothing of Pom, but at last 
 Rex spied one of his feet sticking' out from under a 
 pile of bear and buffalo skins in one corner of the 
 room ; and the next moment both boys had grabbed 
 hold of the foot, and, with yells of triumph, were 
 dragging Pom, clutching to the skins, across the 
 floor and out into the snow where he was duly 
 "baptized," spluttering and blowing and kicking and 
 protesting with all of his black might, but not for an 
 instant losing his temper nor an opportunity to get 
 back at Rex and Dill with a handful of snow. 
 
 This ended the day's frolic, and soon all were 
 busy with the camp-work. The breakfast was 
 cooked and eaten, wood for the fires was cut and 
 carried to the huts, the horses were taken out to 
 their pastures to dig for grass under the snow, 
 while a party of hunters, on rudely-fashioned snow- 
 shoes, started out for the day's hunt, when about 
 ten o'clock the clouds lifted and the snow ceased 
 falling. There were now one hundred and sixty- 
 seven mouths to be fed in the encampment; and 
 these would require many buffalos and deer and 
 bears and mountain sheep and goats and large 
 quantities of smaller game to supply all their needs 
 
Winter Quarters 217 
 
 before the winter was over; and each day that the 
 weather permitted, the hunters must go out. 
 
 When the hunters returned that night they 
 brought in eight deer, the meat of two buffalos and 
 a young bear, a couple of dozen of mountain grouse, 
 and, best of all, reported a large herd of buffalos in 
 a valley about ten miles to the southeast. 
 
 The apparent abundance of game in the region 
 about the encampment and especially the news that 
 a large herd of buffalos were so near, caused great 
 rejoicing in camp; for, of all the perils of winter 
 camping in the mountains, scarcity of food was the 
 one most dreaded by the trappers, and many har- 
 rowing tales were told of the sufferings of bands of 
 trappers, imprisoned by the snows of winter in some 
 lonely mountain valley where there was little or no 
 game to be killed, and who, consequently, nearly 
 perished of starvation before the warmth of the 
 coming spring opened their prison gates. 
 
 'We'll git after th' buffalos tew-morrer," Jim 
 Bridger declared, "an' git in our winter's supply of 
 meat. It's bound to turn cold after this storm, an' 
 th' meat'll keep without jerkin'." 
 
 That night a space was cleared of snow in front 
 of the row of huts and a large camp-fire built in 
 celebration of the finding of the herd of buffalos. 
 The hardy trappers gathered around the fires, and 
 feasted and smoked and told stories, until compelled 
 by the lateness of the hour to go to their bunks in 
 
218 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 order to get the sleep and rest they needed for the 
 morrow's hunt. 
 
 "Say, but isn't this life great fun?" Rex queried, 
 as he and Dill crawled under the soft buffalo and 
 bear skins in their bunk. "There is something in- 
 teresting to be seen or done all the time; and the 
 outdoor life makes a fellow feel so so bully that he 
 is ready to get all the fun there is out of every- 
 thing." 
 
 "Yes," assented Dill. "I don't believe I will ever 
 want to live in a crowded city again. I wonder if 
 Jim Bridger and Captain Tom will let us go on the 
 buffalo hunt to-morrow ?" 
 
 "Of course they will," affirmed Rex. "So we 
 must get to sleep so as to be ready in the morning. 
 Good night," and in five minutes the eyes of both 
 lads were fast closed in sleep. 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 FILLING THE LARDER 
 
 DURING the night the weather turned bitterly 
 cold, and morning found the waters of the 
 beaver pond frozen so thick that the ice would bear 
 the weight of a horse, while Elk Creek itself was 
 ice-bound, except where the water ran very swiftly. 
 This hard freeze would put an end to all beaver 
 trapping for the winter ; and the trappers could now 
 settle down in their winter camp and make them- 
 selves as comfortable as possible. 
 
 Jim Bridger and Captain Tom selected fifty men 
 to go on the great buffalo hunt. The hunters were 
 divided into two parties of twenty-five men each, so 
 as to approach the buffalos from two different 
 points. Jim Bridger himself commanded one of 
 these bands of hunters, while Captain Tom was 
 chosen to lead the other, and with him went two 
 very happy boys, Rex and Dill. In addition to the 
 horse he rode, each hunter lead an extra horse, to 
 be used to carry the buffalo meat back to camp. 
 
 The start was made a little after sunrise, both 
 parties riding together until they came within a 
 couple of miles of the valley where the buffalos had 
 been seen the day before. Here Jim Bridger and 
 
 219 
 
220 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 his men turned into a ravine that would bring them 
 unseen to the other side of the herd of buffalos and 
 rode off, while Captain Tom and his hunters halted 
 for an hour, to give Bridger time to reach his po- 
 sition, and then rode slowly on toward the valley. 
 
 As Captain Tom and his men drew near the 
 valley, the excitement among the hunters increased; 
 for, if the buffalos were still there, there would be 
 not only great sport for all, but, in addition they 
 hoped to secure in that one great hunt sufficient 
 meat to last them all winter, and that meant the 
 solving of their most difficult problem at the very 
 beginning of their winter encampment. Then, too, 
 there had sprung up between the two bands of 
 hunters a spirit of generous rivalry; and each com- 
 pany was to strive to outdo the other in the number 
 of buffalos killed during the day, the losing side to 
 forfeit to each man of the other side a prime beaver 
 skin. 
 
 At last they came within sight of the valley ; and, 
 to their great satisfaction, saw that the herd of 
 buffalos were still there, stamping and pawing the 
 snow in search of the grass beneath it. 
 
 The pack-horses were now tied in a little grove 
 of trees and left with a couple of men to guard them ; 
 and the rest prepared themselves for the hunt. 
 
 The valley, where the buffalos were, was some 
 four miles long but not more than a mile wide. 
 The plan agreed upon was for Captain Tom to wait 
 at his end of the valley until Bridger had reached 
 
Filling the Larder 221 
 
 the opposite end. Then the party of hunters 
 nearest to whom the buffalos were feeding was to 
 charge, thus driving the animals directly toward the 
 other band of hunters. 
 
 "It's Bridger's first move," Captain Tom said, as 
 he brought his little company to a halt in his end of 
 the valley. "The critters are a good mile nearer 
 t'other end of the valley. We'll wait right here 
 'til Bridger starts the fun. 'Twon't be long. Every 
 man be ready to start on the jump, when I yell." 
 
 Captain Tom was right. They did not have long 
 to wait. In less than ten minutes a great wave of 
 excitement ran through the herd; and, in another 
 minute, every buffalo was headed in their direction 
 and plunging through the snow as swiftly as fear 
 could drive his big body. 
 
 "Be mighty careful not to get caught in the press 
 of the herd," cautioned Captain Tom. "If we can't 
 turn the critters, then turn your horses and run with 
 them. Let the old bulls go, and get all the young 
 heifers you can Now ! At them !" he yelled, strik- 
 ing his horse with his whip and bounding away in 
 the direction of the rapidly advancing herd of buf- 
 falos, followed by his men, all yelling at the top of 
 their voices. 
 
 This was Rex's first buffalo hunt on the back of 
 White Cloud, and he was just a little anxious to 
 know how the noble animal would behave; but, be- 
 fore he had ridden a dozen rods toward the oncom- 
 ing buffalos, he knew by the actions of his horse 
 
222 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 that he had hunted buffalos before, and all his anx- 
 iety vanished. 
 
 "Hurrah !" he shouted to Dill, who rode not a rod 
 away. "He's an old buffalo hunter! A beaver's 
 skin to a muskrat's, that we kill more buffalos than 
 do Bridger's men!" 
 
 "No takers here !" yelled back Dill ; and then both 
 boys gave their attention to the herd of buffalos 
 that now was thundering down upon them. 
 
 There were, perhaps, a thousand buffalos m the 
 herd, and all these animals, wild with fear, were 
 plunging straight toward our little party of hunters, 
 the front ranks throwing up clouds of snow like 
 enormous snowplows. For a width of some five 
 rods the front of the herd was densely packed, the 
 buffalos crowding together, until horns clashed 
 against horns and heaving sides pushed against 
 heaving sides ; but on either side of this denser mass 
 the herd thinned until along the outskirts the buf- 
 falos were running in scattered groups. 
 
 At first Captain Tom and his hunters rode 
 straight toward the thickest of the mass of oncom- 
 ing buffalos, yelling and swinging their caps, in an 
 effort to turn back the frightened animals ; but, soon 
 seeing that it would be impossible to change the 
 course of the maddened herd, they swung their 
 horses swiftly to the right and to the left and joined 
 in the tumultuous chase. Then the slaughter be- 
 gan. Now above the thunders of hoofs and clash- 
 ing horns and bellowing bulls, the sharp crack 
 
Filling the Larder 223 
 
 crack crack of pistols beat a rapid tattoo on the 
 ear drums; and soon the white level of the little 
 valley was dotted with the dark bodies of dead and 
 dying buffalos. 
 
 White Cloud that day proved himself a wonder- 
 ful buffalo hunter. He needed little guidance. All 
 that Rex had to do was to start him toward the 
 animal wanted; and soon the swift and tireless legs 
 would place him in exactly the best position for a 
 fatal shot, and keep him there until the buffalo was 
 down, his eyes in the meantime watching every 
 movement of the animal, ready to leap to .one side 
 the instant the horns were turned in his direction. 
 
 It took four shots for Rex, who was considerably 
 excited, to kill his first buffalo, but the next one he 
 killed in three shots, and, to his delight, the third 
 buffalo went down at the first crack of his pistol. 
 Twice he was charged by bulls; but so long as he 
 was safe on the back of White Cloud, he could laugh 
 at all the charging bulls in the herd. 
 
 Dill was not so fortunate. His horse, in the ex- 
 citement of the chase, became almost unmanageable, 
 and he succeeded in killing only one buffalo, al- 
 though he wounded two others. 
 
 For nearly an hour the hunters followed the herd ; 
 and then Bridger, seeing that the horses were al- 
 most completely exhausted, called the hunt off ; and 
 the counting of the victims, to see which side had 
 won the hunt, began. 
 
 Identification marks had been agreed upon, so 
 
224 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 that there would be no trouble in telling to which 
 party of hunters the dead buffalo belonged. A slit 
 in the right ear showed that the animal had been 
 killed by one of Bridger's men; and, if the top of the 
 left ear had been cut off, it meant that the buffalo 
 had been slain by one of Captain Tom's hunters. 
 Jim Bridger and Captain Tom themselves did the 
 tallying; and, at the end of the count, it was found 
 that two hundred and seventy-four buffalos had 
 been killed. 
 
 Wild cheers greeted the announcement of this 
 number, for it meant that now their winter's larder 
 was full to overflowing. 
 
 "Who's won th' beaver skins? That's what we 
 want to know," yelled one of the men impatiently, 
 and the cheering stopped and all waited anxiously 
 for Jim Bridger's answer. 
 
 "They got us, boys, by jest tew buffalos," and 
 Jim Bridger took off his cap and bowed to Captain 
 Tom. 
 
 Then how Rex and Dill and the rest of Captain 
 Tom's party of hunters did cheer! 
 
 But, now that the hunt was over, the meat had to 
 be secured, and this, as you can easily surmise, 
 meant a great deal of very hard work. Ropes, 
 fastened to the pommels of the saddles, were tied to 
 the horns of the dead buffalos and their carcasses 
 dragged by the horses to a little grove of trees, near 
 the center of the field of slaughter, where the bodies 
 
Filling the Larder 225 
 
 were to be skinned and dressed and the meat cut up 
 ready for transportation to camp. 
 
 There was no returning to camp that night; but 
 messengers, bearing the news of their good fortune, 
 had been sent back; and the next morning seventy- 
 five more men, with the rest of the horses, came to 
 assist in the butchering; and by night all the meat 
 and skins had been safely transported to their winter 
 camp in the little grove of trees, and stored in a 
 strong shed especially built for that purpose, where 
 the cold would preserve it until used. 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 ROUND THE CAMP-FIRE 
 
 NOW followed days of wild and picturesque 
 enjoyment and contentment for Rex and Dill. 
 They were encamped in the heart of the wilderness, 
 surrounded by all the grandeur and wildness of un- 
 tamed nature. They had an abundance of the most 
 wholesome food to eat, plenty of wood to burn to 
 keep them warm and to cook their meals, and a 
 house to shelter them from the cold and the storms 
 of winter. Their time was passed in the midst of 
 rude and bustling scenes of picturesque activities. 
 The trappers were a hardy and a restless race of 
 men, accustomed to the constant activities of outdoor 
 life. They could not lounge idly in their huts, hug- 
 ging the warmth of their fires. They must be out 
 in the open air, doing something to work off the 
 excess steam of their buoyant spirits, and some- 
 thing interesting or novel to the boys was always 
 happening. The hunting parties continually sally- 
 ing forth and returning; the little groups of men, 
 always busy, scattered about the encampment, cook- 
 ing, mending, making garments, wrestling, shoot- 
 ing, running races, or amusing themselves at dif- 
 ferent games; the frequent neighing of the horses, 
 
 226 
 
Round the Camp-Fire 227 
 
 contentedly feeding on the rich grass of the valley, 
 the echoing strokes of the ax in the near-by woods, 
 the sharp report of the rifle, the whoop and the 
 halloo of the returning and the departing hunters, 
 the frequent bursts of loud laughter and rude song, 
 breaking the silence of the surrounding solitudes of 
 valley and mountains all these, happening in a re- 
 gion suddenly aroused from its primeval silence and 
 loneliness, realized for Rex and Dill all they had 
 ever dreamed of the wild freedom and romantic 
 delights of a hunter's life in the Rocky Mountains. 
 And the nights were not less enjoyable than the 
 days. Then the men gathered in groups around 
 the blazing camp-fires, and, reclining on the soft 
 skins of the buffalo or bear, lighted their pipes, and 
 lived over again in stories the past scenes of their 
 adventurous lives, or related tales of the daring and 
 skill of the men who had won leadership among 
 these bold mountaineers of the West. Especially 
 on stormy nights, when the wind whistled and 
 screamed outside and beat against the strong logs 
 of their huts and bellied in and shook their bearskin 
 doors and drove the snow and sleet down through 
 the smoke-holes, did Rex and Dill delight in joining 
 some group of trappers, seated in the glowing 
 warmth and comfort of a blazing fire, their rifles 
 stacked in a corner of the hut, their deerskin coats 
 thrown open to admit the pleasant warmth, their 
 bronzed faces shining in the ruddy glow of the fire- 
 light, their eyes glistening with animation and their 
 
228 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 features working with the excitement of the tale 
 that was telling especially at such a time did Rex 
 and Dill delight in joining the circle and in listening 
 to their wild tales of daring and romantic enter- 
 prise, of savage ambuscades, covert lurkings, and 
 midnight alarms, of the hunt and the foray, of fights 
 with wild beast and wild men, of weird beings that 
 dwelt in the mysteries of the mountains, and of all 
 the perils and superstitions and wonders of these 
 hardy men of the mountains and the plains. There 
 was something in the darkness and the wildness of 
 the storm outside in contrast to the warmth and 
 comfort within, that seemed to give an added vivid- 
 ness, a surer reality, to the tale that was telling. 
 Among the trappers in Bridger's party there were 
 many men who had hunted and trapped and fought 
 Indians with Kit Carson, and frequently he was the 
 hero of the tales told around the fires at night. 
 Then, indeed, were Rex and Dill enchanted; for Kit 
 Carson was their hero, their beau-ideal of all that a 
 hunter, trapper and Indian fighter should be. He 
 was the man they had come across a thousand miles 
 of wilderness to find, the friend of Dill's father and 
 of his dead Uncle Manuel. For a long time they 
 had worshiped him from afar, as brave boys ever 
 will worship the doer of brave deeds ; but now they 
 were in his country, were surrounded by his friends, 
 and it all seemed to bring his personality nearer to 
 them, and to make them the more anxious to hear 
 all they could of the man who had won so high a 
 
Round the Camp-Fire 229 
 
 place in the regards of these bold knights of the 
 Plains and the Mountains, the most fearless and 
 hardy class of men that ever lived anywhere. 
 
 One stormy night a mountain blizzard was 
 howling outside Jim Bridger, Captain Tom and 
 an old trapper known as Steeltrap Smith came to 
 call on Hammer Jones and Rad Dawson in their 
 own hut. Rex and Dill never forgot that night; 
 for almost the moment the men had seated them- 
 selves on the soft skins the boys had spread hospi- 
 tably around the fire blazing in the center of the hut, 
 Steeltrap Smith turned to the two boys. 
 
 "Wai, youngsteers, this ain't much like New 
 O'leans weather, is it?" he queried, as he spread the 
 palms of his hands out over the glowing coals. 
 "Now, listen tew that wind. It's gittin' 'most 
 powerful enough tew blow th' hump off a buffalo's 
 back. Makes me think of th' blizzard we had th' 
 winter we was camped on th' Arkansas River 'bout 
 three years ago, th' time th' Crow Inguns got nine 
 of our hosses, an' Kit Carson an' twelve on us got 
 after th' Inguns. That were a mighty powerful 
 blizzard. Why, it blew so hard that " 
 
 "But, tell us about Kit Carson and the Indians," 
 broke in Dill, too excited to remember his manners. 
 "Did Kit Carson get the horses back? and did you 
 have to fight the Indians ?" 
 
 "Did Kit git th' hosses back? I reckon you don't 
 know Kit Carson," and the old trapper smiled in- 
 dulgently. "Kit always gits what he goes after, 
 
230 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 whether it be Inguns or hosses; an' in this case it 
 were both, for, after we'd got th' hosses, we jest had 
 tew go back an' fite th' Inguns, jest tew sort o' im- 
 press on their minds th' sin of hoss stealin'." 
 
 "Do tell us all about it?" pleaded Rex. "We 
 have never heard that story about Kit Carson, and 
 we want to hear everything 1 about him we can. 
 We're here on purpose to find Kit Carson." 
 
 "Sartin, I'll tell you all 'bout it, bein' you're so 
 interested in Kit; but I always likes tew begin a 
 story on a full pipe," and the old trapper paused to 
 fill and light his pipe. Then, after taking a few 
 meditative puffs, he settled down comfortably on the 
 furs and turned to the boys. 
 
 "This was th' way on it," he began. "I reckon 
 th' blizzard made us sum careless; for 'bout two 
 days after th' big storm a party of 'bout fifty Crow 
 Inguns sneaked up tew our camp in th' dark of th' 
 night an' got away with nine of our hosses, without 
 our knowin' a thing 'bout it 'til th' next mornin'. 
 That made Gaunt, Gaunt was captain of our com- 
 pany of trappers, madder'n a sick bear ; an' he told 
 Kit Carson tew take twelve of th' trappers an' git 
 after them Crow thieves as fast as hoss legs could 
 take him. Kit was always th' man sent when 'twas 
 anything special dangerous. 
 
 "We wan't long in findin' th' trail of th' Crow 
 thieves ; but we'd gone only a few miles, when we 
 comes tew whar a lot of buffalos had tramped all 
 over it, an' we'd agin up tryin' tew follow it, if it 
 
Round the Camp-Fire 231 
 
 hadn't a-ben for Kit. I don't know how he done 
 it, but Kit jest followed that trail, 'spite of all them 
 buffalo tracks, an', of course, we followed Kit. 
 Wai after we'd gone 'bout forty miles, our hosses, 
 they was in poor flesh not havin' had much grass 
 tew eat, began tew show signs of givin' out ; an' so 
 we thought 'twould be best tew go intew camp, jest 
 as soon as we came tew sum timber that we seed a 
 couple of miles ahead of us. But, jest afore we got 
 tew th' woods, Kit, who was a leetle ahead, sud- 
 denly stopped his hoss an' motioned us tew stop 
 sudden; an' then we seed smoke risin' above th' 
 tops of th' trees an' knowed it must come from th' 
 fires of th' Inguns. You bet th' sight of that smoke 
 made our blood jump sum ; but we was only thirteen 
 an' th' Inguns was fifty ; an' we knowed we'd got tew 
 take them Inguns by surprise, or, maybe, git took 
 ourselves; an' so we went intew hidin' 'til dark. 
 "Kit soon had everything all planned out; an', 
 when it got proper dark, we left our hosses well 
 hidden an' started for th' camp of them Crow 
 thieves, everyone on us mighty anxious tew git a 
 good lick at 'em. First we made a half circuit 
 round their camp, so as tew approach them from 
 th' opposite side, 'cause Kit thought they wouldn't 
 be a-lookin' for danger from that direction much, 
 an', cons'quently, wouldn't be a-guardin' that side 
 careful. Then we began crawlin' up on th' Ingunsr 
 a-creepin' on our hands an' knees 'till we come in 
 full view of th' camp ; an' then we seed that th' reds 
 
232 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 had made tew rough forts out of logs an' had di- 
 vided intew tew parties. They was havin' a big 
 dance a-cel'bratin' of their hoss stealing an' we 
 knowed from that that they didn't have th' least 
 suspicion of our bein' near. Jest outside one of th' 
 forts we seed our nine hosses, securely tied; an' th' 
 sight riled our tempers so that sum on us wanted 
 tew git after th' Inguns right then an' thar ; but Kit 
 Carson knowed th' Inguns was tew strong for any 
 sech tactics tew succeed, an' he told us tew keep 
 quiet 'til th' reds had tired themselves out dancin' 
 an' laid down an' gone tew sleep, an' then we'd git 
 tew work. So we jest crept back out of sight an' 
 waited thar in th' cold an' th' snow, 'til them fool 
 Inguns had jumped an' yelled themselves out an' 
 laid down tew go tew sleep, an' then we got ready 
 tew begin opperations, all th' madder because of th' 
 cold an' th' long wait. 
 
 "First off we must git them hosses, an' we wanted 
 tew git them without disturbin' th' Inguns; so Kit 
 asked five on us tew go with him intew th' Ingun 
 camp an' cut th' hosses loose. Kit never asked no- 
 body tew go whar he wasn't willin' tew lead. 
 
 "Wai, I was one of th' five ; an' I reckon I did feel 
 sum scary, when we got 'most tew th' camp an' 
 knowed that, if one of them bucks should wake an' 
 give th' alarm thar'd be fifty howlin' Inguns down 
 on us six afore we could do more'n pull th' trigger 
 onct. But Kit Carson kept goin' right along, as 
 
Hound the Camp-Fire 233 
 
 if them fifty sleepin' Inguns wan't nothin' more 
 dangerous than logs of wood, 'til he gits intew 
 camp; an', of course, th' rest on us followed him. 
 Wai, we cut th' hosses loose, an' then drove them 
 slowly out of camp by throwin' snowballs at them, 
 without wakin' a durned Ingun, an' got them safely 
 back tew whar th' rest of our men was waitin'. 
 
 "Now, seein' that we'd got our hosses back, sum 
 on th' men was for quittin' an' gittin' back tew camp 
 as fast as we could, seein' that th' Inguns were so 
 strong in numbers an' pertected by forts; but Kit 
 Carson wouldn't listen tew no sech talk. Th' In- 
 guns had got tew be punished, so as tew larn 'em 
 tew leave our hosses alone in th' future; an' Kit 
 didn't care a durned whether thar was fifty or a 
 hundred of th' red devils, he was for goin' back an' 
 givin' 'em sum hot lead, even if he had tew go 
 alone ; an' of course, we couldn't let Kit go alone, so 
 we all got ready tew go with him. 
 
 "Kit now ordered three of th' men tew take th' 
 hosses we had recaptured back tew where we had 
 left our saddle hosses, an' th' rest on us tew git 
 ready for th' fite; an' then we started straight for 
 th' Inguns. Jest afore we got tew th' first fort a 
 cur began tew bark. 
 
 ' 'Ready, every man git ready !' called Kit, 
 throwin' his rifle tew his shoulder, for he knowed 
 th' dog would give th' alarm, an' th' time tew shoot 
 would be when th' Inguns first jumped tew their 
 
234 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 feet ; an' almost th' moment he spoke, th' reds began 
 poppin' up on their feet, dazed with sleep an' not 
 knowin' whar th' danger was comin' from. 
 
 ' Tire !' yelled Kit, pullin' his own trigger ; an' 
 ten rifles blazed an' ten Inguns went down. We 
 won't wastin' no bullets. 
 
 "Th' rest on th' reds made for th' other fort, an' 
 got ahind its logs afore we could load ; an' soon be- 
 gan shootin' at us, but we had got ahind trees whar 
 we was pertected from the bullets. 
 
 "For an hour or so we shot back an' forth with- 
 out either on us doin' much damage. Then it began 
 tew git light, an' th' Inguns, seein' how few we was, 
 thought they'd jest swallow us all down hull at one 
 gulp; an' so, all of a sudden, they jumped out of th' 
 fort an' made for us yellin' like they was goin' tew 
 eat us alive, clothes an' all. 
 
 " 'Wait, wait 'til you can git good aim,' cautioned 
 Kit, cool as if th' yellin' Inguns was so many 
 squakin' geese. Then, when they'd got jest whar 
 he wanted 'em, he yelled: 'Give it tew 'em, boys!' 
 an' we all fired ; an' five of th' reds fell dead, an' th' 
 rest on 'em got back intew their fort as sudden as 
 their legs could take 'em. 
 
 "But them Inguns were mighty gritty, an' 'twon't 
 long afore they came a-whoopin' after us ag'in, 
 more determined than ever tew git our scalps ; an', 
 I reckon, they'd have got 'em, tew, this time, if we 
 hadn't a-fell back jumpin' from tree tew tree an' 
 gittin' in a shot whenever we could. 'Bout this 
 
Round the Camp- Fire 235 
 
 time th' three men Kit had sent with th' hosses got 
 back an' we determined tew try ag'in tew stand our 
 ground. When th' Inguns seed we wasn't fallin' 
 back no more, but was a-gittin' ready tew give 'em 
 a tussel, they gin up an' retreated tew their fort. 
 
 "I reckon both on us had had 'bout all th' fite we 
 wanted by this time, leastwise, since we'd punished 
 th' Inguns good an' plenty, we was satisfied, an' so 
 we took th' back trail for camp, feelin' mighty good 
 over th' way we'd got th' hosses back an' punished 
 ,th' Inguns, without th' loss of a man, though sum 
 on 'em got a few scratches. I tell you, boys, when 
 it comes tew fitin' Inguns, Kit Carson's better than 
 a regiment of soldiers an' a gineral," and the trap- 
 per's eyes sparkled. 
 
 "How how many of th' Indians did you kill?" 
 Dill asked, with all a boy's thirst for details. 
 
 "I don't know exactly," the trapper replied; "but 
 I reckon 'twas a good twenty. I seed Kit git five 
 on 'em with my own eyes ; but then I never knowed 
 another man as quick an' dead-sure with a rifle as 
 Kit Carson." 
 
 "That's whar yer dead right," broke in Jim 
 Bridger. "I've knowed sum mighty good rifle 
 shots, but I never knowed one quicker or surer than 
 Kit. Did you ever hear tell how Kit got th' big 
 Injun that stole Robidoux's hosses? No Wai, 
 that was whar Kit owed his life tew his good 
 shootin' ; an' he was on hossback, tew, an' his hoss 
 was a-goin' at full gallop." 
 
236 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 "O, please do tell us!' 7 begged Dill excitedly. 
 "Please tell us how he killed the big Indian." 
 
 "Wai," grinned Bridger, "if I don't tell it tew you 
 now, I know you boys won't give me no rest 'til I 
 do, seein' it's 'bout yer friend Kit Carson, so I'll jest 
 give it tew you right on th' spot." 
 
 "Bully for you !" Rex declared, hitching himself 
 up nearer to Bridger. 
 
 All laughed ; and Jim Bridger filled his pipe with 
 fresh tobacco, and sat for a few minutes listening 
 to the howlings of the storm outside and contentedly 
 puffing on his pipe, then, with a sly wink at Ham, he 
 turned to Rex and Dill. 
 
 "This sure is a regler Rocky Mountain blizzard," 
 he said, "an* I shouldn't be s'prised if 'twar cold 
 enough by tew-morrer night tew freeze bilin' 
 coffee. Onct when we war camped up on th' Snake 
 River" 
 
 "But, the story!" broke in Dill excitedly. "You 
 promised to tell us how Kit Carson killed the big 
 Indian!" 
 
 "Now don't git tew rambunctuous," grinned 
 Bridger. "I was jest a-comin' tew that. As I was 
 sayin', it war while Kit was in winter camp on th' 
 Winty River, 'long with Captain Lee an' Robidoux, 
 that a big buck Injun, strong as a buffalo bull, an' 
 brave an' cunnin', an' mighty quick an' sure with 
 a rifle, who was workin' for Robidoux, vamosed 
 one dark night with six of Robidoux's best hosses; 
 an', as each one of th' hosses was worth 'bout two 
 
Round the Camp-Fire 237 
 
 hundred dollars, th' deal riled th' temper of Robi- 
 doux 'till he was madder'n a wounded grizzly, an', 
 as as soon as he had got done swearin', he started 
 for th' camp of Captain Lee, whar Kit Carson was, 
 tew git him tew go after th' Injun. 
 
 "Kit knowed th' Injun, knowed that 'twould be 
 a fite tew th' death, afore he'd give up th' hosses, 
 an' that th' Injun was 'bout th' toughest man tew 
 tackle, white or red, in th' Rocky Mountains; but 
 that didn't make no difference tew Kit. He was 
 willin' tew go; an', in ten minutes, he was on his 
 hoss's back, fully-armed and ready tew git after 
 that Injun. 
 
 "A village of the Utah Tribe of Injuns was 
 camped near by, an' Kit rode straight tew this 
 village, after one of th' warriors, that he knowed, 
 tew go with him. Th' savage was as ready for th' 
 adventure as was Kit ; an', in a few minutes, he was 
 mounted on his war-hoss, an' th' two men galloped 
 off tew find th' trail of th' robber. This wan't diffi- 
 cult for eyes as 'customed tew trailin' as war th' eyes 
 of Kit an' his Injun friend; an' they was soon on 
 th' trail, gallopin' 'long as fast as they could make 
 their hosses go. 
 
 "For 'bout a hundred miles they rode, without 
 onct havin' lost sight of th' trail, when th' Injun's 
 hoss suddenly took sick an' gin out completely. 
 Of course that meant th' Injun would have tew 
 quit, an' that Kit would have tew give up th' chase, 
 or go on alone. But 'tain't Kit's nater tew give up 
 
238 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 anything, so long as he's got a fight in' chance, an', 
 'though he knowed 'twould be kill th' Injun or git 
 killed, with th' advantage all in favor of th' Injun, 
 he didn't hesitate, but said good-by tew th' Injun 
 an' rode on alone 'long th' trail of th' desperado. 
 
 "Now, 'twan't more'n thirty miles from whar 
 Kit had left his Injun friend, which shows he'd done 
 sum mighty fast trailin', when he caught sight of 
 th' hoss thief. Th' savage 'bout th' same time saw 
 Kit, an' knowed 'twas kill or git killed. When they 
 first saw each other they was on th' open plain; 
 but a leetle ahead of th' Injun was a grove of trees, 
 an' he knowed, if he could git tew them trees, he'd 
 have Kit at his mercy, seein' that he could hide 
 ahind a tree an' shoot him afore Kit could git a 
 crack at him. 'Twas a mighty good plan; an' Kit 
 knowed it as well as did th' Injun, but it only made 
 him rush his hoss th' harder. He had come after 
 that Injun an' he was goin' tew git him. Wai th' 
 Injun reached th' trees, leaped off his hoss, an' was 
 springin' for a tree, when Kit Carson, his hoss goin' 
 at full speed, threw his rifle tew his shoulder an' 
 fired. An' he got th' Injun !" and Bridger half 
 arose, his eyes glittering with excitement. "He 
 got him!" he repeated. "Th' Injun jest give one 
 jump up in th' air an' fell dead, his rifle goin' off as 
 he fell. Now that's what I call mighty good 
 shootin', seein' that both Kit's hoss an' th' Injun 
 war on th' jump. But Kit jest had tew git him; 
 
Round the Camp-Fire 239 
 
 an', sumhow, when Kit has tew do a thing, he kin 
 always do it. 
 
 "An 7 Kit always knows jest th' proper thing to 
 do at jest th' right time; an' you can't scare or bluff 
 him a little bit," Rad Dawson declared. "I reckon 
 if it hadn't a-ben for Kit's coolness an' knowin' 
 jest what to do, there wouldn't be any scalp on my 
 head right now." 
 
 "And you've never told us a word about it!" in- 
 terjected Dill indignantly. 
 
 "Forgot all 'bout it," Rad laughed, " 'til Bridger's 
 an' Smith's yarns brought it to my mind." 
 
 "But it isn't too late now," Rex admonished. 
 
 "Sartin. Give us th' yarn," Bridger urged. "I 
 never heared it." 
 
 "All right," and Rad laid down his pipe, declar- 
 ing he could not talk "with a pipe atween" his teeth. 
 " 'Twas when we were camped on th' Colorado 
 River 'long with Captain Young " 
 
 "The same Captain Young we know?" broke in 
 Dill excitedly. "The Captain Young who outfitted 
 us at Santa Fe?" 
 
 "Th' very same gentleman," answered Rad. 
 "Now, young feller, if you want tew hear this story, 
 don't you be interruptin' me no more." 
 
 Dill promptly subsided and Rad began again. 
 
 "As I was sayin," he continued, " 'twas when we 
 were camped on th' Colorado, an' trappin' thar- 
 abouts, that one day, when Kit an' 'bout a dozen of 
 
240 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 us trappers had been left in charge of th' camp, th' 
 rest of th' trappers bein' out lookin' after th' traps, 
 'bout five hundred Injuns came marchin' intew 
 camp as bold as you please, perfessin' th' greatest 
 love an' affection for us whites ; but I could see that 
 Kit didn't place much confidence in their perfessions 
 of friendship an' was keepin' mighty close watch on 
 'em, an' soon he managed, kinder careless-like, tew 
 git us trappers altogether in a sort of a bunch. 
 
 " 'Boys,' he said, laughin', jest as if he was tellin' 
 a funny story, so as to fool th' reds, who couldn't 
 understand a word of English, 'Them Injuns have 
 all got their weapons concealed under their blankets, 
 an' I reckon they're intendin' tew murder us all, so 
 as tew git our furs an' outfits. Now,' an' Kit 
 laughed ag'in, 'if you'll jest keep cool an' do jest 
 as I tell you, I reckon we can bluff th' Injuns off. 
 Everybody laugh,' an once ag'in Kit burst intew 
 a loud laugh, an' we all laughed with him, jest as 
 if it was a corkin' good story he'd told us; but, I 
 reckon none of us felt much like laughin', leastwise 
 I know I didn't. 
 
 " 'Now,' an' Kit was smilin', Til cover that big 
 chief with th' grizzly b'ar necklace, an', when I say 
 ready, you all cock your rifles an' stand ready tew 
 shoot th' first Injun that makes a hostile move.' 
 
 "Kit paused for a moment an' his eyes glanced 
 swiftly around. Th' Injuns were stalkin' about as 
 if they owned th' hull camp, an' th' big chief was 
 
Round the Camp-Fir e 241 
 
 a-talkin' tew a bunch of head warriors not more'n 
 ten feet from whar Kit was a-standin'. Th' proper 
 time had come, an' Kit knowed it. 
 
 " 'Ready !' he cried, an' throwed his rifle tew his 
 shoulder an' pointed it pointblank at th' big chief's 
 head, while we all cocked our rifles an' stood ready 
 tew shoot any red devil that moved a hand toward 
 his weapon. 
 
 "Wai, I reckon them Injuns was s'prised sum! 
 Th' big chief turned almost yeller with fright, an' 
 not one of th' rest on 'em dared tew move a muscle. 
 They knowed, if it come to shootin', we wouldn't 
 miss. 
 
 "Then Kit began tew talk Spanish to them. 
 Most Injuns know a little Spanish. He told them 
 he'd looked intew their hearts an' found them all 
 bad, that he had listened tew their words of friend- 
 ship an' discovered they were all lies, that they'd 
 come with words of love in their mouths an' guns 
 an' knives under their blankets; an' ended by tell- 
 in' every one on 'em tew git out of that camp jest 
 as fast as his legs could take him, an' that th' big 
 chief would git a bullet through his head th' first 
 time one of his warriors made a hostile move, an' 
 that afore they could kill us we'd send a lot of his 
 warriors tew th' happy hunting-grounds. 
 
 "Wai, th' big chief an' his warriors stood glarin' 
 at us for more'n a minute; but we jest waited, our 
 guns cocked an' held ready for instant use, ready 
 
242 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 tew shoot th' moment one on 'em drew a weapon, 
 while Kit kept his cocked gun leveled plumb at th' 
 big chief's head. 
 
 ' 'Git!' ag'in said Kit, an' he took a step toward 
 th' big chief. 
 
 "Then, I reckon, they seed we was dead in 
 arnest; an' I'll be blessed, if them hull five hundred 
 Injuns didn't turn tail an' march, out of th' camp, 
 lookin' as ugly as devils, but not one on 'em darin' 
 tew touch a weapon. Now, that's what I call 
 knowin' jest what tew do, at jest th' right moment, 
 an' doin' it in jest th' right way. It takes nerve 
 an' grit tew work that kind of a bluff; an' I don't 
 believe there is another man in th' Rockies that 
 could have done it. But Kit didn't 'pear tew think 
 he done nothin'." 
 
 "That is just what I like 'bout Kit Carson," 
 Captain Tom said. "He never brags. He just 
 does things, and lets the deeds do their own talk- 
 ing. And I've found out that that is the kind of 
 man to tie to every time. I never knowed Kit Car- 
 son to utter a boastful word." 
 
 "Dat dar Kit Ca'son must be de debbel ob a man, 
 fo' sho' !" ejaculated Pom, who had been listening to 
 the tales with wide-opened rolling eyes. "I's done 
 pow'ful glad dat Kit Ca'son ain't no Injun, 'case I 
 spec'lates if he war he'd done kill all ob us," and 
 Pom shuddered at the gory thought and felt of the 
 kinks of wool on top of his head. 
 
 Now, you boys can imagine and need not be told, 
 
Round the Camp-Fire 243 
 
 how these stories of Kit Carson and the long talk 
 that followed, delighted Rex and Dill, and how, 
 after Jim Bridger and Captain Tom and Steeltrap 
 Smith had gone, they crawled under the furs of 
 their bunks and lay for many minutes, listening to 
 the crying of the wind outside and thinking over 
 the exciting scenes they had had so vividly pictured 
 to them and longing for the time to come when their 
 own eyes would see this hero Kit Carson, before 
 sleep at last came and quieted their whispering 
 tongues and perturbed brains. 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 BUSTER'S GREAT FIGHT 
 
 NOT until the last of February did the weather 
 permit Jim Bridger and his trappers and our 
 friends to break up their winter camp in the valley 
 between the Bighorn Mountains and the Wind 
 River Mountains. Then came a great thaw; and 
 the snow melted from the mountain sides and from 
 the mountain passes, and flowed off in floods of 
 water down the eastern and the western slopes of 
 the Rocky Mountains, through innumerable creeks 
 and rivers and across great plains, to the waiting 
 waters of the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans; and the 
 ice fetters fell from off the chilled limbs of the 
 mountain streams and set their waters free ; and the 
 strong walls of winter were thrown down ; and the 
 forces of spring entered the fastnesses of the 
 mountains ; and the imprisoned trappers were once 
 again at liberty to go whither they listed. 
 
 Rex and Dill had enjoyed every day of their long 
 sojourn in that wild and romantic mountain valley; 
 and, when at last the day came to say good-by to 
 their camp on the little wooded knoll, to the little 
 hut that had sheltered them so warmly and hospi- 
 tably during the storms and the cold of winter, it 
 
 244 
 
Buster's Great Fight 245 
 
 was almost like saying good-by to home. They 
 had come to have an affectionate regard for every 
 log in their own little cabin, and for all its pictur- 
 esque surroundings of huts and woods and valley 
 and mountains, endeared by so many delightful or 
 interesting or thrilling associations. 
 
 Over yonder, by that little patch of woods near 
 the needle-like projection of rock, they had killed 
 their first elk, a huge buck, with a great spread of 
 horns that they had hung proudly above the door 
 of their hut. Away over there, across the valley, 
 where that black gash showed in the mountain side, 
 was the gully in which they had had the exciting ad- 
 venture with the huge he grizzly, when both boys, 
 after wounding the bear, had been chased up a tree 
 and compelled to stay there until, after yelling for 
 an hour, Rad Dawson and Ham had heard their 
 calls, and had come and killed the grizzly. Then 
 there were the steep hills a mile back of the camp, 
 where they had spent many happy hours sliding 
 down their sides on the rude sleds Ham had taught 
 them how to make; the tall dead pine tree near by, 
 from whose topmost limb Rex had shot an eagle one 
 morning; the bluffs three miles to the north of the 
 camp, where they had hunted the mountain sheep 
 with Rad and Ham and each boy had killed a ram ; 
 and the dozens of other spots and localities that had 
 become endeared to the two lads through some 
 pleasing or exciting adventure. But now they 
 must say farewell to all this, and go on further into 
 
246 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 the wilderness of mountains and valleys stretching 
 to the west of them; and, notwithstanding their 
 eagerness to go, the thought that they might never 
 see these pleasing and endeared scenes again sad- 
 dened their going. 
 
 With the passing of the snow from the mountain 
 passes and valleys and the unfettering of the moun- 
 tain streams, the trapping season had again opened ; 
 and all the trappers were anxious to be at their 
 work, catching the beaver and the other fur bear- 
 ing animals. 
 
 Before leaving the valley Jim Bridger divided 
 his brigade of trappers into two parties of seventy- 
 five men each. One party was to go North to the 
 South Fork of Snake River, where they were to be- 
 gin trapping, gradually working southward until 
 it became time to start for the rendezvous on Green 
 River ; while the other party, under the command of 
 Bridger himself, was to cross over the Wind River 
 Mountains through the South Pass and trap along 
 the eastern streams of the Green River Valley, until 
 it was time to go to the mouth of Horse Creek on 
 Green River, where the summer's rendezvous was 
 to be held. 
 
 Captain Tom, after consultation with Hammer 
 Jones and others of his trappers, decided to join 
 Bridger's party, and trap with them until all went 
 to the rendezvous on Green River. This would be 
 much safer than it would be for his little party to 
 strike out all by itself, since the Indians seldom 
 
Buster's Great Fight 247 
 
 ventured to attack or to seriously harass as large a 
 body of trappers as would be with Jim Bridger. 
 
 Rex and Dill, who had made a number of warm 
 friends among Bridger's trappers, were very much 
 pleased with this arrangement, since it would enable 
 them to continue many of these friendships. Be- 
 sides they had long wished to see how one of the 
 large bodies of trappers, sent out every year by 
 the great fur companies, conducted themselves 
 when engaged in the actual work of trapping; and 
 now they were to have their wish. 
 
 The morning of the last day of February found 
 everybody and everything ready for the start. The 
 pack-horses were all loaded and stood in two long 
 lines, the trappers all sat on their horses, their long 
 rifles resting across the pommels of their saddles in 
 front of them all waiting for the command to ad- 
 vance from Jim Bridger, who was giving his last 
 instructions to the leader of the party of trappers 
 going north. 
 
 At last Bridger galloped to a point midway be- 
 tween the two long lines of trappers and pack- 
 horses; and, rising in his stirrups, waved his cap 
 and shouted a bit dramatically : "Forward !" And, 
 with a great shouting to and fro and the bandying 
 of many rude jokes and the calling of cheery fare- 
 wells, the two divisions of trappers started for their 
 spring trapping grounds, one headed almost directly 
 north, and the other due west toward the distant 
 peaks of the Wind River Mountains. 
 
248 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 For an hour they journeyed, each in sight of the 
 other, then a low ridge of rocks rose in front of 
 Bridger and his party of trappers. On the summit 
 of this ridge, the cavalcade halted; and all turned 
 in their saddles to wave a last farewell to their com- 
 rades, now stretching in a long gray line of horses 
 and men across the distant level of the prairie, and 
 to have a last look at the valley where they had 
 passed so many pleasant weeks. 
 
 "Look there!" cried Rex, pointing to the dis- 
 tant party of trappers that now, also, had come to 
 a halt. "I am sure that that man on the big black 
 horse, who is waving his hat so frantically, is Steel- 
 trap Smith ; and I think he is waving farewell to us. 
 Let's let him know that we understand/' and, pull- 
 ing off their hats, both boys galloped a few rods in 
 front of their party, and, standing up in their stir- 
 rups, swung their hats around their heads. Then 
 the distant man on the black horse galloped out 
 in front on his horse, and swung his hat more fran- 
 tically than ever. 
 
 'That's Steeltrap, sure," laughed Dill. "And 
 he's as tickled as a boy to have us recognize him and 
 wave him a special farewell. I don't believe our 
 own fathers would do more for us than old Steel- 
 trap would. He seems to have taken a special 
 fancy to us lads ever since that night he came to our 
 hut with Bridger and told us about Kit Carson. I 
 wish he might have gone with us ; but Bridger said 
 he knew the country and the Indians in the Snake 
 
Buster's Great Fight 249 
 
 River region the best of any man in the party and 
 that they couldn't spare him. But we'll see him 
 again at the rendezvous," and Dill's face bright- 
 ened. 
 
 "Yes," Rex answered, "and I am glad that we 
 will, for I can't help liking the old fellow, even if he 
 does sometimes look and act queer. But I know 
 why he looks and acts that way now. Bridger told 
 me only this morning. You see he was captured 
 by the Indians about ten years ago, and, when res- 
 cued, he was almost dead. They had been tortur- 
 ing him, the brutes," and Rex shuddered and his 
 face whitened; for his own father, many years be- 
 fore, had been captured by the Indians and had 
 never been heard of since ; and the thought of what 
 his fate must have been was so terrible that Rex 
 could never bear to speak of his father himself nor 
 to hear anyone else speak of him ; and so his name 
 was seldom mentioned. 
 
 "And," continued the boy, after a moment's 
 pause, "when the trapper got well again, he had 
 forgotten even his own name and everything that 
 had happened to him in the past. No one knew who 
 he was ; and so, because he appeared to know a lot 
 about trapping, someone called him Steeltrap Smith, 
 and he has been known by that name ever since." 
 
 "Poor fellow !" and Dill's face softened and sad- 
 dened. "It must be terrible not to know who you 
 are. Why, he might have a family and never know 
 it! There, Bridger has started on. We must be 
 
2 S With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 going," and, whirling their horses about, the two 
 boys galloped back to their places in the cavalcade 
 of trappers that now passed slowly over the ridge, 
 and soon the valley and the distant band of trappers 
 were hidden from sight. 
 
 For a week Bridger and his party of trappers 
 wound their way slowly westward, through a wild 
 and rocky country, terminating in a gradually as- 
 cending sandy plain that led upward to the South 
 Pass, through which they passed; and then, one 
 afternoon, they came to a swift little stream of 
 water, running westward down the slope of the 
 mountains. 
 
 "Hurrah!" shouted Ham, as he paused on the 
 bank of the stream and looked down into the water. 
 "We're 'cross th' backbone of th' Rockies. Them's 
 trout in th' water, an' they're only found in streams 
 runnin' down th' west side of th' Rockies." 
 
 This was good news to all; for now they could 
 soon begin their trapping. Indeed, the next day 
 they came to where the mountain stream emptied 
 into the Little Sandy River; and here Bridger 
 pitched his camp and sent out scouts through the 
 surrounding country to learn if the beavers in the 
 neighboring streams and valleys were in sufficient 
 numbers to pay to trap them. The scouts returned 
 the next day, and all having reported the beaver 
 prospects good, it was determined to begin trapping. 
 
 Now, for nearly three months, Bridger and the 
 trappers with him searched the valleys and streams 
 
Buster's Great Fight 251 
 
 west of the Wind River Mountains for the beavers 
 and the other fur bearing animals; and then, the 
 weather becoming hot and the beavers beginning 
 to shed their fur, rendering their skins worthless 
 for commercial purposes, the traps were collected, 
 and, with light hearts, but with pack-horses heavily 
 loaded with rich furs, our band of trappers set out 
 joyfully one morning near the middle of May for 
 the summer's rendezvous in the broad valley where 
 the Horse Creek empties into the upper waters of 
 the Green River. 
 
 Rex and Dill had had great times during this 
 trapping season, hunting, fishing, trapping, visiting 
 neighboring villages of friendly Indians, and shar- 
 ing pluckily with the men in all the work and the 
 hardships of the wild life of the camp. They 
 learnt how to trap the beaver with almost the skill 
 of veteran trappers. They became experts in the 
 simple cookery of the camp. They acquired won- 
 derful skill with their rifles and won a great reputa- 
 tion for successful hunting. And every day they 
 grew more sturdy in physique and health, more 
 manly and resourceful, as their bodies and minds 
 and characters developed under the wholesome and 
 stirring influences of their active outdoor life. 
 Even Pom came under the influence of the wonder- 
 ful life they were living, and lost a little of his use- 
 less flesh and gained a great deal in independence 
 and resourcefulness of character. While Buster, 
 the grizzly bear cub, grew apace, until now he was 
 
252 With Kit Carson in tHe Rockies 
 
 nearly half grown and more than a match for any 
 two dogs that he met in the Indian villages. He 
 followed Rex and Dill around like a big dog, and 
 with them he was always gentle and affectionate; 
 but, let any of the trappers attempt to torment him 
 or to torment either of the boys, and his temper 
 would flare up in an instant and he would rush at 
 the tormentors with all the fearlessness and savage 
 fury of his race. He seemed to feel that one of his 
 duties was to protect the two boys, who had cared 
 for and protected him so often. 
 
 Captain Tom and Bridger had both declared that 
 the brute was getting too big and strong to be safe 
 and had threatened to shoot him; but the earnest 
 pleadings of the two boys had so far delayed the 
 execution; and now, on the morning of the start 
 for the rendezvous, he was trotting along sedately 
 by the side of White Cloud, swinging his head from 
 side to side after the manner of bears, and every 
 now and then glancing upward at his master seated 
 in the saddle above him. 
 
 "How long do you suppose it will take for us to 
 get to the rendezvous?" Rex queried, as the two 
 boys journeyed along side by side. 
 
 "A couple of weeks," Dill replied. "I heard 
 Bridger telling Captain Tom this morning. He 
 says that our pack-horses are so heavily loaded that 
 we can't make much over a dozen miles a day, and 
 that we'll have to go around Robin Hood's barn 
 
Buster's Great Fight 253 
 
 to get there, in order to avoid the steep places. Let 
 me see, that will get us there about the last of June 
 O, look over there !" and he pointed excitedly to 
 a high table-like ridge of rocks half a mile to their 
 right, on whose top there appeared at that moment 
 a stately "Billy" mountain goat leading a flock of 
 a dozen ewes and kids. "Come. Let's ask 
 Bridger if we can't hunt them. We haven't killed 
 a mountain goat yet, and that Billy is a dandy," 
 and, followed by Rex, he galloped to where Bridger 
 and Captain Tom were riding at the head of the 
 cavalcade. 
 
 Bridger smiled sympathetically, when he heard 
 the boys' request ; then he studied the goats and the 
 surrounding country for a minute. 
 
 "Reckon 'twill be all right tew let 'em go, won't 
 it Tom?" he said, turning to Captain Tom. "Th' 
 country's safe enough, an' they can't git lost, seem' 
 all they've got tew do is jest tew follow up stream. 
 We'll camp on that stream tew-night, 'bout ten 
 miles further up," and he pointed to where a small 
 stream of water flowed a few rods to the left of the 
 trail. 
 
 Captain Tom agreed with Bridger, and the boys 
 were given permission to make the hunt. 
 
 "One of you'd better ride tew one end of th' ridge 
 an' t'other tew t'other end," advised Bridger. 
 "Then you can tie your hosses, an' when you creep 
 up on th' goats you'll have 'em atween two rifles. 
 
254 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 Keep watch of th' side next tew th' mountains. 
 Goats always run for th' highest ground in sight, 
 when frightened." 
 
 Rex and Dill concluded to follow Bridger's ad- 
 vice, and a moment later each set out on a gallop for 
 his end of the ridge. 
 
 The ridge was, perhaps, a mile long, and from 
 four to five hundred feet high, with a fringe of 
 heavy woods growing along its side. The goats 
 stood on an open table-like space near the middle of 
 the ridge. The woods would hide the young 
 hunters from their sharp eyes, while the wind, blow- 
 ing almost directly across the ridge, could not carry 
 the scent of either boy to their keen nostrils. 
 
 Rex reached his end of the ridge, and, tying 
 White Cloud to a tree, he at once began cautiously 
 making his way up through the woods toward the 
 center of the ridge, all the time keeping a sharp 
 lookout for the goats. As he advanced through 
 the trees, he bent over almost double, as one often 
 will when stalking game; and, perhaps, this caused 
 him to be mistaken for a deer, or, perhaps, the ani- 
 mal was wild with hunger, at any rate, suddenly, as 
 he was passing under a huge tree, without a warn- 
 ing sound, a mountain lion dropped down on his 
 back. 
 
 Rex caught a glimpse of the beast a fraction of a 
 second before he struck, but not in time to avoid 
 him; and boy and brute tumbled to the ground 
 
Buster's Great Fight 255 
 
 together, the lion on top, and Rex, for the moment, 
 stunned and helpless. 
 
 How long he lay unconscious Rex never knew, 
 but it was probably only a few seconds. When he 
 opened his eyes he lay on his back, with the moun- 
 tain lion crouched over him, his fore paws resting 
 on his breast, his head held high and his tail 
 thumping the ground angrily. The brute was 
 growling furiously and his eyes were glaring off in 
 the woods to his right. 
 
 For a moment Rex lay, wondering dreamily why 
 the lion did not turn and rend him with his teeth 
 and claws, wondering when he would begin to eat 
 him. At first he did not seem to care much, did not 
 seem to think the matter worth the trouble of mak- 
 ing a struggle ; and then, all of a sudden, his brain 
 cleared and he realized fully and at the same moment 
 the horrible nature of his situation and his utter 
 helplessness. He knew, if he made a move, even to 
 draw his hunting-knife, that the sharp teeth would 
 be sunk into his body on- the instant. 
 
 But, why had not the hungry lion already begun 
 his feast? 
 
 At that instant, as if in answer to his unspoken 
 query, Rex heard a savage growl coming from the 
 woods near by, heard the lion snarl and saw him 
 bare his white teeth and crouch lower ; and the next 
 moment, a huge body hurled itself upon the beast, 
 and the two tumbled to the ground together by the 
 
256 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 side of Rex, biting, clawing, growling and snarling. 
 
 Rex leaped to his feet and, springing out of reach 
 of the struggling animals, stared in astonishment 
 at the fighting brutes. 
 
 Whence had come his rescuer? 
 
 At first in the confusion of his own mind and in 
 the still greater confusion of the whirling, biting, 
 clawing beasts, Rex could not tell what kind of an 
 animal it was that had so opportunely attacked the 
 mountain lion; and then, with a thrill of pride, he 
 saw that it was Buster, the grizzly bear cub, that 
 was fighting so desperately for his life with the 
 big cat. 
 
 "Bully for you, Buster!" he yelled, forgetting 
 everything but the excitement of the fight. "Give 
 it to him, Buster !" 
 
 And then, seeing that Buster was apparently 
 getting the worst of the fight, he began an excited 
 search for his rifle, which had been knocked out 
 of his hands when the lion had dropped down on 
 top of him. In a moment he had found the gun, 
 and, quickly seizing it, he threw it to his shoulder 
 and tried to get a shot at the lion; but, so swiftly 
 did the two beasts change places, that it was fully 
 three minutes before the excited boy dared to risk 
 a shot; and then he got sudden aim at the lion's 
 head and pulled the trigger. 
 
 The ball struck true, and, in a minute more, the 
 lion lay dead, with Buster still tearing savagely at 
 him. 
 
Buster's Great Fight 257 
 
 Rex now called to the cub and, at the voice of 
 his master, the bear quit worrying the dead lion and 
 turned and dragged himself to the boy's feet. A 
 glance told Rex that the bear was fearfully hurt, 
 beyond all possible hope of recovery. The sharp 
 claws of the powerful brute had ripped him open in 
 such a terrible manner that only a grizzly could 
 have fought a moment with such wounds ; and, even 
 as Rex threw himself down by his side, the faithful 
 animal, in a last effort to lick his master's hand, 
 died. 
 
 Rex dug out a shallow grave in the ground at 
 the foot of the great tree, using his hunting-knife 
 for a spade, and buried his hero-pet there. Then 
 he piled heavy stones over the grave, to keep the 
 beasts from digging up the body, and carved, with 
 his knife, in the trunk of the tree, this epitaph : 
 
 BUSTER 
 
 THE BEST BEAR THAT EVER LIVED 
 
 DIED FIGHTING 
 
 ON THIS SPOT 
 
 TO SAVE THE LIFE OF HIS MASTER. 
 
 These sad duties performed, Rex turned to the 
 dead mountain lion. He found that Buster, young 
 as he was, had given a terrible account of himself 
 and that the lion, probably, would have died from 
 his wounds, in the course of an hour or two, even if 
 his bullet had not struck him. 
 
258 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 The dead lion was one of the largest Rex had 
 ever seen; and, when he had the skin off his body, 
 he flung it over his shoulder, and, with a last look 
 at the grave of Buster returned to where he had 
 left White Cloud, mounted, and set out after the 
 cavalcade of trappers that by this time had passed 
 out of sight in the distance. As he rode out of the 
 woods that fringed the base of the ridge, Dill joined 
 him. He reported that the mountain goats had 
 taken fright long before he had got within shot of 
 them, and that he had last seen them bounding up 
 the almost precipitous side of one of the mountains 
 back of the ridge. 
 
 Dill felt very badly over the loss of Buster ; and, 
 when Rex had finished his story of the bear's great 
 fight and heroic death, there were tears in the eyes 
 of both lads. 
 
 "And and to think Bridger and Captain Tom 
 wanted to shoot him!" Dill exclaimed indignantly. 
 "I guess they'll wish now that they had never said 
 a word about killing the brave little fellow." 
 
 Dill was right ; for that night, when the two boys 
 had reached camp and Rex had told his story, 
 Bridger declared: "If that b'ar had come out of 
 that scrap with th' lion all right, I'd a-fed him on 
 buffalo steaks with my own hand an' a-fought for 
 his life same as I would for any good comrade's. 
 That's th' only grizzly I ever knowed tew act 
 human," and every man in camp would have said 
 amen to that sentiment. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE BIG BULLY OF THE MOUNTAINS 
 
 MOUNTAIN floods and storms and the diffi- 
 * * * culties of the roadless, bridgeless trail delayed 
 Bridger and his brigade of trappers, so that it was 
 nearing the first of July when at length one after- 
 noon they reached the top of the last intervening 
 elevation, and looked down on the broad expanse of 
 the level prairie, bordering both sides of the Green 
 River, where the trappers' summer rendezvous was 
 to be held. Already the valley was dotted with the 
 tents and huts of trappers and traders and friendly 
 Indians, making a very pleasing and picturesque 
 picture, in its frame of wild and desolate mountain- 
 ous surroundings. 
 
 The scene, as their long train wound its way 
 into camp, was one that Rex and Dill never forgot. 
 All its varied and motley inhabitants gathered 
 around them, shouting, laughing, gesticulating, 
 hand-shaking, each in his own peculiar and boister- 
 ous way giving them hearty welcome. French- 
 Canadians, Americans, Spaniards, Mexicans, half- 
 breeds, Indians, from all the four quarters of the 
 great West, jostled one another's shoulders as they 
 crowded about the newcomers, each anxious to see 
 
 259 
 
260 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 if there were any among them that he knew and to 
 give all a glad welcome whether or not he knew 
 them. 
 
 "I did not suppose there would be any where near 
 as many people here as there are," Dill said, when 
 the excitement had quieted down a little, and the 
 two boys stood by the sides of their horses watch- 
 ing the picturesque and animated scene. "Why, 
 there must be nearly a thousand people, not count- 
 ing the Indians! I wonder where they all came 
 from/' 
 
 "Wai," laughed Hammer Jones, who stood near, 
 "that ain't none difficult tew answer. They all 
 jest corned from th' mountains an' streams an* 
 valleys an' plains of this here great West, some on 
 'em travelin' a thousand miles or more tew git here. 
 This here yearly rendezvous is th' trappers' fair, a 
 sort of mount'in carnival, an' I reckon thar ain't a 
 trapper in th' Rockies that would miss it. If he had 
 tew crawl on his hands an' knees, he'd git here." 
 
 "But they are not all trappers," interposed Rex. 
 
 " 'Course not," retorted Ham. "Who'd they sell 
 the'r skins tew, if they was ? There's traders from 
 St. Louie an' Santa Fe an' other points of civil'za- 
 tion, an' each one on 'em's got his guards an' 
 hunters an' packers an' cooks an' gineral camp 
 helpers ; but them don't count," he added scornfully. 
 "Th' trapper is th' cock of this here walk." 
 
 "An' th' free trapper, meanin' th' trapper what 
 owns his own outfit an' does his own trappin' an' 
 
The Big Bully of the Mountains 261 
 
 tradin', is head cockalorum of all th' trappers," 
 supplemented Rad Dawson, who had just dis- 
 mounted and stood near by, leaning on the long 
 barrel of his rifle. "Now I calls this a mighty 
 interestin' gathering" and his eyes glanced around 
 the motley assemblage approvingly. 
 
 During this time Captain Tom and Jim Bridger 
 had been holding a brief consultation with the 
 leaders of the encampment, to learn where they had 
 best pitch their camp; and now, the place having 
 been agreed upon, they at once gathered their men 
 together and proceeded to the spot, a beautiful 
 grove of large trees on the bank of Horse Creek, 
 half a mile from the main encampment. 
 
 The horses were now unsaddled and unpacked 
 and hobbled and turned loose to feed on the rich 
 grass of the river bottom, and then the men set about 
 making the camp as comfortable as possible, for they 
 expected to remain in camp here until the rendez- 
 vous broke up, some two months later. 
 
 From the moment they had entered the encamp- 
 ment Rex and Dill had been on the lookout for Kit 
 Carson ; but neither boy had seen any one that bore 
 any resemblance to the mind-picture that he had 
 painted of his hero; and Ham and Rad, who both 
 knew Kit and had been on the watch for him, had 
 failed to see him ; consequently both lads feared that 
 they were again doomed to disappointment. 
 
 "Now, let's go and ask Captain Tom, if Kit Car- 
 son is here," Dill said, the moment their camp duties 
 
262 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 gave the boys the leisure. "He has talked with the 
 leaders of the encampment and must know." 
 
 Captain Tom was hard at work, superintending 
 the putting up of a large buffalo-skin tent; but he 
 received the boys with a smile. 
 
 "Yes," he grinned joyously, in answer to their 
 anxious query, "Kit Carson is here. Got in three 
 days ago. But he's out on a buffalo hunt with some 
 of his Indian friends just now, and might not get 
 back for a day or two. Reckon you've found him 
 at last, lads, and I am mighty glad of it. Got your 
 tent up?" 
 
 "No," Rex answered. "We were too anxious to 
 find out about Kit Carson to wait until after the 
 tent was up ; but we are going right at it now. You 
 know Ham and Rad are to be our tent-mates, and 
 they are to help us." 
 
 "Better hurry the tent up. Looks like there was 
 a big storm coming," and Captain Tom glanced to 
 where black storm clouds hung over the western 
 mountains. 
 
 "All right," Rex replied. "Let as know the mo- 
 ment Kit Carson gets back to camp," and the two 
 boys hurried back to where Ham and Rad and Pom 
 were already busy at work getting the poles and 
 buffalo skins ready for the tent. 
 
 "Kit Carson is here !" yelled Dill, as the two boys 
 ran up to where the tent builders were at work. 
 
 "But he's out on a buffalo hunt with some In- 
 dians," supplemented Rex, "and might not get back 
 
The Big Bully of the Mountains 263 
 
 for a day or two. That's why we did not see him 
 among the crowd/' 
 
 "That's bully good news," declared Ham. "I'll 
 be powerful glad tew see Kit. But, I reckon, you'd 
 better git busy, or that storm'll catch us." 
 
 In an hour's time, so swiftly and skillfully did all 
 work, the skin tent of tanned buffalo robes was up 
 and ready for occupancy; and they were just in 
 time, for hardly had the last skin been firmly tied in 
 its place, when the storm swept down upon them 
 with a suddenness and fury of rain and hail and 
 wind known only in the mountains. But Ham and 
 Rad were experienced tent makers; and the wind 
 roared and shook the tent in a vain effort to bring 
 about its overthrow, and the rain and the hail beat 
 down on it in torrents, without so much as a drop 
 of rain or a single hailstone falling inside. Even 
 the opening in the center of the tent, where the poles 
 came together, had been covered over with a skin, 
 making the whole rain proof. 
 
 Dry and safe inside the tent sat the two boys and 
 Ham and Rad and Pom, listening contentedly and 
 with a pleasing sense of comfort to the pounding of 
 the hail and the beating of the raindrops on the tent, 
 to the wild music of the storm outside. For an hour 
 the storm roared and crashed and thundered, the 
 rain falling in torrents, after the manner of moun- 
 tain storms ; and then, with the coming of night and 
 darkness, it settled down into a steady drizzle that 
 kept the two boys, who were anxious to visit the 
 
264 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 neighboring camps, in the shelter of their tent for 
 the night. But, notwithstanding this enforced se- 
 clusion, the evening passed very pleasantly for Rex 
 and Dill, who sat listening to the tales of Ham and 
 Rad, suggested by the storm without, until it was 
 time to roll themselves up in their blankets and let 
 the wild lullaby of the storm lull them to sleep. 
 
 The next morning the sun shone down warmly 
 from a cloudless sky; and everything the grim 
 mountains towering in a distant circle around the 
 valley, the tall trees, the low shrubs, the gay flowers 
 and the rich new grass of the river bottom glowed 
 in the sunlight, refreshed and invigorated from the 
 night's bath, as if newly painted by the loving hand 
 of nature. Through the clear morning air the 
 smoke of a hundred camp-fires, built in front of the 
 log or brush hut or canvas or skin tent of the trader 
 or trapper or Indian, was slowly curling upward, 
 while the morning's meal was being cooked. 
 Around the fires stood picturesque groups of the 
 wild inhabitants white and red of the surround- 
 ing mountains and valleys, talking, laughing, shout- 
 ing and sometimes even bursting into song in the 
 wild exuberance of their spirits. On the prairie 
 about the encampments fed the seemingly countless 
 horses of the traders and the trappers and the In- 
 dians, luxuriating in the warmth of the sun and the 
 rich abundance of the grass, after the cold and the 
 hardships of the winter and the long and toilsome 
 journeying to the rendezvous. 
 
The Big Bully of the Mountains 265 
 
 Such was the delightful and romantic scene that 
 met the eyes of Rex and Dill, when, on this morn- 
 ing, after the breakfast had been eaten and their few 
 camp duties had been performed, the two boys, filled 
 with eager curiosity, started out, accompanied by 
 their dark shadow, Pom, to see the sights of this 
 queer little city of the wilderness. 
 
 There were a number of fine groves in the valley, 
 and one of the largest of these had been utilized for 
 the business part of the little city. Here the under- 
 brush had all been cleared away, and under the cool 
 shade of the lofty trees the "stores" of the traders 
 had been established. For a thousand or more 
 miles these wilderness merchants had packed their 
 goods on the backs of horses and mules across deso- 
 late plains and treacherous rivers, over hills and 
 mountains and through dangerous canyons and up 
 and down steep defiles, with a cloud of savages ever 
 hovering around them, eager for a chance to rob 
 and murder; and from equally great distances and 
 over as dangerous and difficult trails, the trappers 
 had come from mountain and valley to meet the 
 merchants here and to exchange their furs for the 
 traders' wares. 
 
 Rex and Dill wished to do a little shopping on 
 their own account, and, consequently, they first di- 
 rected their steps toward this grove and the stores 
 and grocery stands of the traders. They had no 
 ready money with them ; but money was not needed 
 here to make purchases, for each lad had what an- 
 
266 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 swered equally as well as money in this queer little 
 wilderness city, a small bundle of beaver skins. 
 
 They found the "stores" all open and doing a 
 rushing business; for, as it happened, the trading, 
 which had been held back until the last expected 
 band of trappers had arrived, so as to give all an 
 equal chance, had commenced that day, the last bri- 
 gade of trappers having reached camp during the 
 night; and all the motley inhabitants white men 
 and red men were as eager as women at a bargain 
 counter to dispose of their furs and make their pur- 
 chases, and crowded excitedly around the rude stalls 
 of the traders, loaded down with their furs, and 
 vociferated their wants in many tongues. 
 
 For an hour or more Rex and Dill stood watching 
 this interesting scene, then they pushed their way 
 into the midst of the crowd around one of the largest 
 of these busy marts, anxious to make their own pur- 
 chases. They had not tasted coffee nor sugar nor 
 bread for many weeks, and they were planning a 
 great feast for that night, with coffee and sugar and 
 biscuits to grace it. 
 
 Naturally, under the circumstances, the prices 
 of these luxuries, as the trappers considered them, 
 were high. The coffee cost the boys two dollars 
 and a half a pint, the sugar two dollars a pint, 
 and the flour a dollar and a half a quart ; but, 
 what cared they for prices! They had plenty of 
 beaver skins to spend, and soon their furs had 
 passed over the counter of the trader and the pre- 
 
The Big Bully of the Mountains 267 
 
 cious packages of sugar and coffee and flour were 
 in their possession. 
 
 "My, but this coffee smells good!" Rex declared, 
 as he sniffed delightedly at the package. "Seems 
 as if I couldn't wait until night to have a drink of 
 it. Here, Pom," he cried, as he caught sight of the 
 negro boy. "Take these packages to camp. Dill 
 and I want to have a look around and we do not care 
 to be bothered with the carrying of them." 
 
 The boys handed their packages of coffee and 
 sugar and flour to Pom, and the negro boy hurried 
 off with them back to camp, declaring, "dat dar 
 coffee done smelled like a bref comin' straight frum 
 a b'akfast table in hebben." 
 
 Unfortunately nearly all of the "stores" sold 
 whisky, and already a number of the trappers, under 
 its baleful influence, were swaggering around, boast- 
 ing of their prowess and describing the terrible 
 things they would do to any one hardy enough to 
 oppose their lawlessness of word and act. 
 
 "I don't see how any full-grown man can drink 
 any of that stuff, knowing what a disagreeable brute 
 it will make of him," Rex declared disgustedly, as 
 one of these obstreperous bullies paused a few feet 
 from where the boys were standing to take a drink 
 out of his whiskey flask. "Now, look at that big 
 brute," and he pointed to the whiskey drinker. "I 
 just saw him knock a fellow, a much smaller man 
 than he, down, just because he did not get out of his 
 way quick enough to suit him." 
 
268 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 At this moment the bully's eyes caught sight of 
 Rex's pointing finger and he scowled savagely, and, 
 taking the flask from his mouth, turned toward 
 them. 
 
 "Have a drink?" and, holding out the flask, he 
 advanced toward Rex and Dill, a wicked grin on his 
 brutal-looking face. 
 
 "No," Rex answered shortly. "Neither of us 
 drink whisky," and he turned his back on the man, 
 the disgust on his face showing very plainly as he 
 did so. 
 
 "Hey!" and the man with a quick Jump caught 
 Rex by the shoulder with one of his great hands, 
 and, jerking him around, thrust his face down close 
 to the face of the boy. "Maybe you no hear me," 
 he snarled. "I say, have a drink. I, the Big Bully 
 of the Rocky Mountains, say, have a drink; and 
 now you drink," and he attempted to push the mouth 
 of the flask between Rex's teeth. 
 
 Rex was mad, and, in his anger, he forgot alt 
 caution; and, with one blow of his right fist he 
 knocked the flask from the man's hand, and, at the 
 same time, tore himself free from his grip, and, 
 leaping back turned on the bully a face flaming with 
 indignation and defiance. 
 
 Dill, his dark eyes gleaming like sword points, 
 leaped to the side of Rex. 
 
 "You big coward!" he yelled. "Keep your old 
 whiskey to yourself. We don't want it and we 
 won't drink it." 
 
The Big Bully of the Mountains 269 
 
 The bully, the moment Rex knocked the flask out 
 of his hand, leaped to save its contents; but it had 
 fallen mouth downward and, before he could pick it 
 up, all the whiskey had run out of the flask. 
 
 "You d d American !" and, with eyes bloodshot 
 with rage, the man hurled the empty flask straight 
 at the head of Rex and sprang toward him. 
 
 "Run!" yelled someone in the crowd that had 
 quickly gathered around them. "Run, or he'll kill 
 you!" 
 
 But Rex and Dill did not run. They were not 
 made of that kind of stuff. Rex dodged the whiskey 
 flask, doubled up his fists and prepared to defend his 
 young manhood as best He could; and Dill, with 
 doubled-up fists, stood unflinchingly by his side. 
 
 But the bully was a great giant of a man, on 
 whose bared arms the corded muscles stood out in 
 great knots, who had gained skill in many a fist 
 fight; and, almost before the boys knew what was 
 happening, they were hurled backward to the 
 ground, knocked senseless by blows from the bully's 
 fists. 
 
 With curses the big brute sprang" towar>d the 
 prostrate boys; but, before he could reach them, a 
 dozen stalwart arms seized him, and with yells of 
 "Shame!" "Shame!" forced him away from the 
 boys. The bully cursed and bragged and threat- 
 ened, and, finally, struck one of the men a brutal 
 blow in the face. This, of course meant a fight; 
 and when Rex and Dill recovered consciousness and 
 
270 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 struggled to their feet, the two men stood in a hastily 
 formed ring, their bodies bared to the waist, ready 
 for the fight. 
 
 It needed but a glance to show that the Big Bully 
 of the Mountains outmatched his opponent in size 
 and muscular development, while his known skill 
 with his fists left the outcome of the contest in little 
 doubt ; but the man was game and faced him bravely. 
 
 At the word, each leaped for the other. This was 
 to be no scientific sparring match for points, but a 
 brutal slugging match for knockout blows. For a 
 couple of minutes the little man held his own, mak- 
 ing up in agility what he lacked in bulk and strength. 
 Twice he struck the big Frenchman (the bully was 
 French) in the face, making his nose bleed and 
 knocking him backward; and his friends wildly 
 yelled encouragement to him, while Rex and Dill 
 danced up and down with excitement. Then the big 
 fist crashed against his head, and he went down, as 
 if struck by a ton pile driver; and, before he could 
 struggle to his feet, even before he had got his 
 senses back, the brute was upon him, pounding the 
 helpless man with sickening brutality until he was 
 forced to desist by the strong arms of a dozen trap- 
 pers. 
 
 Now how the big bully did swagger and bluster 
 and brag, declaring that he could flog all the French- 
 men present, and that, as for the Americans, he was 
 going to cut willow whips and switch them all. 
 
 "O, why don't someone wade into the big brute 
 
The Big Bully of the Mountains 271 
 
 and knock the stuffings out of him!" lamented Rex 
 indignantly. "I am sure there are men here that 
 can do it." 
 
 "Thar might be sum on us who could thrash 
 Shunan in a fair fight/' answered a big trapper, who 
 stood near enough to overhear Rex's exclamation; 
 "but he's an ugly customer, an' never fights fair, 
 an' is mighty careful not to rile th' fightin' blood of 
 anyone on us he thinks stands a good show of 
 lickin' him. Howsumever I reckon 'twon't be long 
 afore he makes a discuvery. I reckon he's goin' 
 tew make one right now," and the face of the big 
 trapper lighted up with the intensest interest, as his 
 eyes rested on the figure of a man, who had just 
 stepped out from the crowd and stood quietly facing 
 the bully. 
 
 He was young, this newcomer on the scene, prob- 
 ably not more than twenty-five years old; but with 
 such a strong masterly-looking face that one forgot 
 his age when looking into the twinkling gray eyes 
 and on the square chin and firm lips. He was not a 
 large man. The Big Bully of the Mountains over- 
 topped him by nearly a foot. But he had the look of 
 having the steel-like strength and agility of a deer 
 in his compactly built frame. Evidently he was 
 well-known to the trappers ; for, on the moment of 
 his appearance, there came a hush over the crowd, 
 and the big bully stopped abruptly in the midst of a 
 most boastful tirade against all Americans, while 
 it seemed to Rex and Dill, who stood near, that his 
 
272 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 dark face whitened beneath the bronze on his cheeks. 
 
 " 'Twon't be no sluggin' match now," chuckled 
 the big trapper. "An' I reckon Shunan won't do no 
 more boastin' when it's over. He's riled th' blood of 
 th' wrong man this time." 
 
 "Who is he? Who is he?" and Rex caught hold 
 of the big trapper's sleeve excitedly. 
 
 "Why, that's Kit, Kit Carson! Whar did you 
 come from not tew know Kit?" and the trapper 
 stared at his questioner much the same as he would 
 if he had asked him what the sun was. 
 
 Kit Carson at last! How the eyes of both lads 
 devoured his face and form! How they exulted 
 that it was their hero, their Kit Carson, who had 
 appeared so opportunely and dramatically! 
 
 But there was nothing theatrical in either the ap- 
 pearance or the actions of Kit Carson himself, as he 
 stepped out from the crowd and confronted the 
 boasting bully with a quiet firmness more effective 
 than any amount of blustering would have been; 
 and, when he spoke, his voice was not loud, but it 
 was decisive. No one would think of questioning 
 the sincerity of the man back of that voice. 
 
 "Captain Shunan," he said, and there was some- 
 thing of the purr of the lion in his quietly-spoken 
 words, "I am one of the smallest and weakest of the 
 American trappers gathered here, among whom I 
 am sure there are many who could easily thrash 
 you, and who would gladly do so, if you personally 
 
: 
 
" CAPTAIN SHUNAN THIS HAS GOT TO STOP. 
 
The Big Bully of the Mountains 273 
 
 affronted them; but you are too cowardly to do 
 this. You always quarrel with a weaker man than 
 yourself. I saw you knock down the two boys, I 
 saw your brutal assault on the trapper, when he lay 
 helpless on the ground, I have listened to your boast- 
 ful words and threats against the Americans. Cap- 
 tain Shunan, this must stop, or I will be under the 
 necessity of shooting you." 
 
 For a full minute Shunan stood staring into the 
 steadfast eyes of Kit Carson, then, without uttering 
 a word, he whirled about on his heels and walked 
 directly to his lodge. 
 
 "Backed down ! The coward !" cried Dill, unable 
 longer to hold in his excitement. 
 
 "No," and the big trapper's face sobered. "He's 
 gone tew git his hoss an' gun. I reckon 'twill be a 
 duel tew th' death. An' Shunan's a mighty quick 
 an' sure shot; but I never knowed a man yet, white 
 or red, tew git th' best of Kit Carson, when it comes 
 tew shootin'. See, Kit's goin' for his hoss an' gun." 
 
 As the trapper spoke Kit Carson turned and 
 walked swiftly toward his tent, being too well versed 
 in the rules governing the rude lives of the trappers 
 not to know what the actions of Shunan meant, that 
 it was now shoot or get shot. 
 
 All the trappers stood silent, their eyes on the two 
 tents. Not one of them but knew what the actions 
 of the two men portended. 
 
 Shunan seized his rifle and mounted his horse 
 
274 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 first. Then a little later Kit Carson was seen riding 
 quietly toward him, a single-barrel dragoon pistol 
 in his hand a pistol against a rifle ! 
 
 The two men now rode rapidly toward each other, 
 until their horses' noses almost touched, then each 
 suddenly pulled up his horse. 
 
 "Am I the man you are looking for?" Kit Carson 
 asked, his steady eyes watching the eyes of Shunan. 
 
 The two men were now so near that Rex and Dill 
 both could hear their words distinctly; and their 
 blood almost stopped running, so tense was their 
 excitement. 
 
 "No," answered Shunan, and, at the same instant, 
 he threw his rifle to his shoulder. 
 
 "Look out ! He's going to shoot !" yelled Dill. 
 
 But there was no need of that warning cry ; for 
 Kit Carson knew his man, had read the murder in 
 his eyes, and the ball from his pistol struck and 
 shattered Shunan's right forearm the fraction of a 
 second before the bullet left his rifle, causing the gun 
 to tilt upwards sufficiently to send the ball intended 
 for his heart through the skin on the top of Carson's 
 head, while the muzzle was so close that the powder 
 burnt his face severely, leaving no doubt as to what 
 the intentions of Shunan were. 
 
 Kit Carson had staked his life on his wonderful 
 skill and quickness with the pistol and had won. 
 He had hit his adversary in one of the only two 
 places his right or left arm which would render 
 his aim with the rifle uncertain and disable him 
 
The Big Bully of the Mountains 275 
 
 without killing him, thus proving that he had had no 
 intentions of killing Shunan, only of disabling him 
 and of ending forever his career as the brutal Big 
 Bully of the Mountains. 
 
 Shunan was at once carried to his quarters, where 
 every attention possible was given to his wound ; but 
 no surgery could ever restore those shattered bones 
 to their former strength. Henceforth he was a 
 crippled man, at the mercy of the weakest of those 
 he had so recently bullied and beaten ; and the most 
 aggravating cause of trouble was forever removed 
 from that camp. 
 
 "Served the big brute just right," Dill exclaimed, 
 when the excitement had somewhat quieted down. 
 "But it was a terrible nervy thing for Kit Carson to 
 do, to stake his life on that one ball in his pistol. 
 Why, if he had missed by the fraction of an inch, or 
 if he had been an instant too late, he would have 
 been killed, and he knew it." 
 
 "Sartin he a-been killed, if them ifs had a-had 
 thar way," and a broad hand was slapped down 
 heartily on Dill's shoulder, while another equally 
 broad hand gripped the hand of Rex ; "but thar ain't 
 no ifs, when it comes tew Kit Carson, 'specially when 
 it's shootin'. Wai, I'm powerful glad tew see you 
 tew boys ag'in," and the eyes of Steeltrap Smith, 
 shining with pleasure, looked down into the faces of 
 Rex and Dill. "Got intew camp last night. An' 
 how's Jim Bridger an' Captain Tom an' th' rest on 
 th'boys?" 
 
276 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 "All right, every one of them," Rex responded. 
 "Come over to our tent to-night. We're going to 
 have a banquet coffee and sugar and biscuits, all 
 you can drink and eat. Kit Carson and Bridger 
 and Captain Tom will be there. Now we must find 
 Captain Tom and get him to introduce us to Kit 
 Carson. I just saw him in the crowd that has been 
 swarming around Kit Carson like a lot of bees ever 
 since the duel ended. Be sure and be over to our 
 banquet, about an hour before sundown," and Rex 
 and Dill hurried away to where the head of Captain 
 Tom showed above the crowd that still surrounded 
 Kit Carson. 
 
 When the boys reached Captain Tom he was talk- 
 ing with Kit Carson. The moment he saw Rex and 
 Dill he turned quickly to them. 
 
 "Here's your Kit Carson," he called. "I've told 
 him about you two lads, and he's anxious to see you. 
 These," and he turned to Carson, "are the two boys, 
 Rex Holt and Dill Conroyal, who have come so far 
 to find you, Kit; Kit Carson, boys," and Captain 
 Tom nodded first to Rex then to Dill and finally to 
 Kit Carson. 
 
 Kit Carson smiled, and, catching a hand of each 
 boy, shook it warmly, while his twinkling gray eyes 
 looked kindly, yet searchingly, into their faces. 
 
 "I knew your father, Noel Conroyal, Con, as we 
 called him, I knew him well," he said to Dill. "And 
 a braver man or a truer friend, never looked along 
 the barrel of a rifle. I am more than pleased to 
 
The Big Bully of the Mountains 277 
 
 welcome his boy and nephew to the mountains and 
 the scenes he loved so well." 
 
 There was magic in the genial personality of Kit 
 Carson ; for, before he let go of their hands, he had 
 won the hearts of Rex and Dill he already had 
 their unbounded admiration; and they believed in 
 him and trusted him, as a son believes in and trusts 
 a father. 
 
 Dill at once gave Kit Carson his father's letter 
 and invited him to their banquet that night; and 
 Carson promised to read the letter and to come early 
 to the banquet, so as to have time to talk over the 
 contents of the letter. Then Carson excused him- 
 self and hurried back to his tent, while Rex and Dill 
 hastened back to their camp, to make ready for the 
 banquet, as they were pleased to call the little feast 
 they were to give. 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE KILLING OF THE BUCK ELK 
 
 T CARSON, agreeable to his promise, came 
 over to the quarters of Rex and Dill a couple of 
 hours before it was time for the feasting to begin. 
 "I have read your father's letter/' he said to Dill, 
 the moment the greetings were over ; "and for Con's 
 sake, I very gladly undertake this mission to Cali- 
 fornia. I remember your Uncle Manuel very well, 
 and the circumstance of our being at the San Rafael 
 Mission together, and that he was interested in some 
 papers that one of the brothers had; but I did not 
 suppose the papers were as important as Con ap- 
 pears to think them. Your father wants those 
 papers as soon as they can be got, and he shall have 
 them. We will start for California to-morrow 
 morning at sunrise. I have already spoken to Cap- 
 tain Tom, and he and his trappers will go with us. 
 I have also asked Steeltrap Smith to be one of the 
 party, because there is not another man in the West 
 that knows the country through which we will pass 
 better than he does, and he is brave and trustworthy, 
 and will stand by a comrade to the death. This will 
 make nineteen in the company, sufficient to protect 
 us from the Indians. Captain Tom and Hammer 
 
 278 
 
 
The Killing of the Buck Elk 279 
 
 Jones and Steeltrap Smith are now busy selling the 
 furs and purchasing the supplies. We will get 
 everything ready to-night, so that there will be no 
 delay in the morning. If there are any little things 
 that you would like to buy, you must get them to- 
 day ; but do not get anything to take with you unless 
 you absolutely need it. I cannot stop to talk with 
 you longer now, for there are a number of things 
 that I must look after at once; but we'll all be with 
 you at the banquet to-night a little after sundown, 
 so have everything ready for us," and, with a smil- 
 ing adieu, Kit Carson hurried away, leaving two 
 very surprised and somewhat dumbfounded boys. 
 They were beginning to see how Kit Carson had 
 won and held his mastery over his comrades. 
 
 "Why," exclaimed Dill, the moment his surprised 
 wits began coming back, "he didn't even ask us if 
 we could get ready to go by to-morrow morning, 
 he just told us. that we would start to-morrow at 
 sunrise, as if starting to California was nothing 
 more than starting off on a day's hunt, and Califor- 
 nia must be a good thousand miles from here !" 
 
 "And he didn't give us a chance to say a word," 
 Rex complained. "There were a lot of questions I 
 wanted to ask him ; but the moment he stopped talk- 
 ing, he said good-by and was off before I could get 
 my mouth open. I don't wonder the trappers think 
 there is no one quite like Kit Carson to do things. 
 Now, is there anything we want to get? Because, 
 if there is, we've got to get it right off quick." 
 
280 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 For a few minutes the boys considered this prob- 
 lem ; and then both lads concluded, that, since there 
 was nothing absolutely needed, there was nothing 
 they would be justified in buying under the circum- 
 stances. 
 
 "Besides," as Rex sagely remarked, "if we get 
 what we've got ready, there won't be any time to 
 waste." 
 
 Rex was right. That was one of the busiest 
 afternoons the boys ever had ; but, by sundown, they 
 had all of their belongings packed and ready for the 
 pack-horses, the coffee boiling over the fire, the veni- 
 son and buffalo steaks and freshly-caught trout 
 broiling and the biscuits ready for the baking tin 
 everything prepared for the banquet. 
 
 The feast that followed was a splendid success. 
 There was an abundance of coffee and biscuits for 
 all, while the savory meats venison, buffalo steaks 
 and tongue, trout all fresh from nature's larder, 
 would have graced the table of the most fastidious 
 Epicurean that ever lived. Then every mouthful 
 was seasoned with a good appetite, such as only men 
 who live as the trappers lived can have, and flavored 
 with wit and story and laughter and songs. And, 
 when at last the time came to say good night and 
 to seek the comfort of their blankets, all rose and 
 drank to the health of Rex and Dill and to the suc- 
 cess of their mission to California in steaming cups 
 of fragrant coffee ; and then those who were not go- 
 ing to California shook hands and said farewell to 
 
The Killing of the Buck Elk 281 
 
 those who were going. When all had gone, and 
 Rex and Dill had rolled themselves up in their 
 blankets in the tent, they were about the two tiredest 
 as well as the two happiest boys in all America. 
 
 "Isn't this a great life?" Dill exclaimed, as he 
 snuggled down under the blanket. "So full of life 
 and action. Think of what has happened just to- 
 day the fight with the big bully, the duel between 
 him and Kit Carson My, but isn't Kit Carson just 
 splendid ! our banquet in the wilderness ; and now, 
 to-morrow morning at sunrise we are to start off 
 again for California, through a thousand miles or 
 more of trackless wilderness, swarming with hostile 
 Indians and all kinds of wild animals ! I don't be- 
 lieve I could ever be contented to settle down to city 
 life again." 
 
 "Neither could I," Rex agreed. "I am going to 
 be a hunter and trapper and Indian fighter, like Kit 
 Carson. I tell you there aren't many men in the 
 world who would have had the courage to have faced 
 that big bully, Shunan, armed with a rifle, the way 
 Kit Carson did with only a single-barreled pistol in 
 his hand. It was great, and shows just the kind of 
 stuff Kit Carson is made out of. But he doesn't 
 seem to think that it was much of anything, only a 
 disagreeable duty that for the good of all had to be 
 done. Why, I even heard him say that he was sorry 
 that he had to wound Shunan so badly; and the man 
 was trying to kill him !" 
 
 "You bet, Kit Carson is all right ! Oh, say, but 
 
282 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 I am tired ; and I reckon we'd better go to sleep, for 
 to-morrow morning we start for California. Good 
 night," and Dill rolled over and closed his eyes ; and 
 in less than five minutes both weary boys were 
 sound asleep. 
 
 The next morning the packs were all on the backs 
 of the horses, the good-bys all said, and our friends, 
 nineteen strong, were riding out of the Valley of the 
 Rendezvous, with Kit Carson, Captain Tom and 
 Steeltrap Smith at the head, just as the first rays of 
 the morning's sun glanced from the tops of the 
 eastern mountains down into the Valley of the Green 
 River. 
 
 Their route lay down the beautiful Valley of the 
 Green River for something like a hundred miles, 
 then swung westward around the southern spur of 
 the Salt River Range into the Bear River Valley, 
 and thence westward to the waters of the Great Salt 
 Lake and on across deserts and plains and valleys 
 and mountains to the Valley of the Sacramento in 
 California and the Spanish Roman Catholic Mission 
 of San Rafael, where the papers Rex and Dill had 
 come so far to secure were supposed to be in the 
 keeping of one of the brothers of the Mission a 
 thousand miles or more of trackless wilderness ! 
 
 Now, remember, boys, that, at that time, there 
 was not a single white inhabitant in all this vast 
 stretch of country except the wandering trappers 
 and traders, that the way was roadless and the rivers 
 bridgeless, and that the Indians all along the route 
 
The Killing of the Buck Elk 283 
 
 would be ever on the watch to rob and murder 
 remember all this, boys, and even then you, at this 
 day, can but faintly comprehend the real hardships 
 and perils of such a journey as Rex and Dill have 
 just started out to make. 
 
 The trail down the Green River was without ad- 
 ventures; but, on the fourth day after leaving the 
 rendezvous, when our friends were passing through 
 the mountainous country lying between the valleys 
 of the Green and the Bear Rivers, Rex had an ex- 
 perience that will remain in his memory as long as 
 life dwells in his body. 
 
 About the middle of that afternoon, as our little 
 cavalcade of trappers was winding its way down the 
 steep side of a mountain into a little wooded valley, 
 an unusually large buck elk sprang out of a clump 
 of bushes a hundred rods or so ahead and dashed 
 down into the valley, where it disappeared in one 
 of the small groves of trees that dotted the surface 
 of the valley like islands. In an instant the hunting 
 fever ran hotly through the veins of Rex and Dill. 
 
 "Come on!" cried Rex excitedly to Dill. "Let's 
 see if Kit Carson won't let us hunt him. I want 
 that head of horns," and, followed by Dill, he hur- 
 ried on ahead to where Kit Carson and Captain Tom 
 and Steeltrap Smith had paused to watch with the 
 longing eyes of hunters the rapid flight of the elk. 
 
 Kit Carson smiled sympathetically at the excite- 
 ment of the two boys, as they preferred their re- 
 quest, then his face sobered and he sat for a couple 
 
284 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 of minutes studying carefully with his keen eyes the 
 little grove of trees where the elk had vanished and 
 the surrounding valley. 
 
 "I shouldn't wonder if you might get him by rid- 
 ing up to that grove of trees from both ends/' he 
 said, turning to the boys. "Tom and I were just 
 thinking of trying it ; but," and he smiled, "I reckon 
 you boys will get more fun out of the hunt than we 
 would; and, since the country all around is open, 
 with no lurking places for hiding Indians near, I 
 think it will be safe to let you boys go after the buck. 
 What do you say, Tom?" and Carson turned to 
 Captain Tom. 
 
 "I say, give the lads the fun," Captain Tom re- 
 sponded heartily. "The meat from that buck'll taste 
 mighty good for supper to-night." 
 
 "An' that was 'bout th' finest head of horns I ever 
 saw," supplemented Steeltrap Smith. "I was 
 tempted tew have a try for th' old feller myself." 
 
 "All right, boys, you can have the hunt," and Kit 
 Carson again turned to Rex and Dill. "But don't, 
 under any circumstances, allow the excitement of the 
 chase to take you out of sight of the trail. We are 
 going to cross the valley near where that big rock 
 sticks its nose up out of the ground," and he pointed 
 to the other side of the valley, where a huge rock 
 thrust itself outward like the nose on a man's face, 
 "and we will camp in a little valley the other side of 
 the ridge. Now, if anything happens to delay you, 
 just follow our trail. You had better make a wide 
 
The Killing of the Buck Elk 285 
 
 circuit and come up to the grove from both ends, and 
 one of you will be almost sure to get a good shot at 
 the buck when he jumps the grove. You can go 
 now. Good luck to you." 
 
 The eager boys needed no second bidding and 
 at once started off toward the grove of trees into 
 which the elk had disappeared. 
 
 The grove was not large, only a few acres in ex- 
 tent, and lay a little over a mile to the south of the 
 trail. There were no other trees within half a mile 
 of it, and the open prairie lay all around it, so that, 
 indeed, it seemed as if the buck would have a diffi- 
 cult problem to solve if he escaped the rifles of both 
 the boys unless he fled long before they came within 
 range of the woods and that was an act hardly in the 
 nature of a deer to do. 
 
 "Ill take that end/' Rex said, pointing to the 
 south end of the grove, when they reached the point 
 where they thought it wise to separate. "It's the 
 farthest off and White Cloud will take me there 
 quicker than your horse will take you. Now try to 
 get to your end about the same time that I do to 
 mine, so that, no matter which one of us jumps the 
 buck, hell run out near enough to give one of us a 
 shot. Good luck to you," and Rex galloped off on 
 White Cloud to the south while Dill hurried away to 
 the north. 
 
 Both boys made a wide circuit, so as to approach 
 the grove directly from the north and from the 
 south ; and it so happened that Dill reached his end 
 
286 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 a little before Rex did his, with the consequence that 
 the elk came bounding out of the south end of the 
 grove and ran straight toward Rex until within 
 about fifteen rods of him, when, catching sight of 
 the boy on the horse, he wheeled and leaped off to 
 the right at a speed that only a frightened deer can 
 equal. 
 
 Rex waited until the buck turned and then he 
 fired. The animal gave a convulsive bound, show- 
 ing that he was hit, and dashed on faster than ever. 
 
 "He's hit! He's hit!" shouted Rex in great ex- 
 citement "After him, White Cloud ! After him !" 
 and, striking White Cloud with the small whip he 
 carried fastened to his wrist, the excited boy rushed 
 after the fleeing deer at the full speed of White 
 Cloud's swift limbs. 
 
 At first the elk gained on White Cloud, fleet as he 
 was, then, to Rex's delight, he saw that the animal 
 was running a little slower that he was no longer 
 gaining on White Cloud that White Cloud was 
 gaining on him! 
 
 "Hurrah !" he yelled. "He's hard hit ! We'll get 
 him yet ! We'll get him yet, White Cloud ! Faster ! 
 Faster !" and with voice and whip he urged on his 
 noble horse to do his utmost. 
 
 For a mile for two miles for three miles the 
 excited boy raced on after the deer, forgetful of 
 everything, except the laboring buck that now was 
 plunging along only a few yards ahead. Down a 
 steep decline into a wooded gully plunged the deer 
 
The Killing of the Buck Elk 287 
 
 and the horse. Through the brush and the trees 
 crashed the buck, and after him crashed White 
 Cloud. Now the nose of White Cloud was almost 
 over the rump of the buck; and then 
 
 "Hurrah! He's down! We've got him!" yelled 
 Rex, as, with a last convulsive bound, the deer 
 plunged to the ground and lay still. 
 
 "Whoop-a ! Whoop-a ! I've got him, Dill !" and 
 Rex leaped off the back of White Cloud the moment 
 he could bring him to a halt, and ran to where the 
 deer lay and bent over him, knife in hand, to cut 
 his throat; and then a dozen dusky forms seemed 
 to leap up out of the ground all around him a flash 
 of dazzling light a crash like the clap of a thousand 
 thunders and Rex knew no more. 
 
 When he came to, he lay, his hands and feet 
 tightly bound together across the back of a gallop- 
 ing horse, in front of a huge almost naked Indian; 
 and all around him he could hear and see the gallop- 
 ing horses of other mounted Indians. 
 
 "Oh! if I had only remembered and obeyed the 
 command of Kit Carson, I would not be here," 
 mourned Rex. "But it is too late now/' and he cast 
 a shuddering glance upward into the brutal face of 
 his captor. "I hope Dill has escaped," and he 
 looked around as best he could to see if Dill was in 
 the hands of his captors ; but, to his great relief, he 
 could see no signs that his cousin had been made a 
 prisoner by the Indians. 
 
 The Blackf eet, for at his first glance Rex had seen 
 
288 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 with a shudder that his captors belonged to this 
 dreaded tribe of Indians, rode as swiftly as they 
 could make their horses go and as silently as shad- 
 ows, without a pause for rest to man or beast, until 
 the darkness of night compelled them to slow down ; 
 but they did not stop even then. For a couple of 
 hours longer they continued on, through rocky de- 
 files, down into steep canyons, and finally, at the end 
 of that time, emerged into a secluded little mountain 
 valley walled in on all sides by precipitous and lofty 
 mountains, where, with a great halloing and shout- 
 ing, they halted in a little woods by the side of a 
 small stream of water ; and Rex was dropped to the 
 ground from the back of the horse, as roughly as 
 if he were a senseless bag of wheat instead of a 
 live boy. 
 
 For a few minutes Rex, too exhausted from the 
 hardships of his long ride lying across the bony back 
 of the horse to move or even to notice clearly what 
 was going on around him, was allowed to lie undis- 
 turbed where he had fallen, then a couple of Indians 
 came, and, picking him up, one by the feet and the 
 other by the hands, carried him near to where a 
 camp-fire was burning and dropped him on the 
 ground under a large tree. The two Indians now 
 unloosened the thongs of deerskin from his hands 
 and feet which were badly swollen and very painful, 
 and sitting him up against the trunk of the tree, 
 bound him to the tree with strong cords of deerskin 
 wound around his body and tied behind the tree. 
 
The Killing of the Buck Elk 289 
 
 Rex could now look about, and his heart failed 
 him when he saw that he was in the midst of a large 
 encampment of Indians. The little woods appeared 
 to be full of tepees; and there were many squaws 
 and papooses moving here and there, while a hun- 
 dred or more warriors were gathered in groups 
 around the brightly burning camp-fires. Evidently 
 he had been taken to one of the mountain strong- 
 holds of the Blackfeet, where it would be impossible 
 for even the skill and bravery of Kit Carson, backed 
 by his small band of trappers, to rescue him. 
 
 The warriors appeared to be greatly stirred up 
 over something. They were talking and gesticulat- 
 ing in a very excited manner for Indians ; and pres- 
 ently they all gathered around a large camp-fire near 
 where Rex was sitting, and, squatting down in 
 circles, began smoking and talking. Every now and 
 then a stately warrior would stand up and deliver 
 an impassioned speech; and Rex knew by the fre- 
 quent gestures in his direction that he was the 
 principal subject of the deliberations of the Indians, 
 and his blood ran cold when he noted that the 
 orators were gradually working themselves and 
 their hearers up into a frenzy of excitement and rage 
 and that the gestures in his direction were becoming 
 every moment more frequent and more threatening. 
 
 Back of the circles of warriors gathered the 
 squaws and papooses, the firelight glittering in their 
 black wicked eyes and shining on their bronzed faces 
 and greasy black hair. These, too, were becoming 
 
290 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 intensely excited; and frequently a dozen or more 
 squaws, lead by some old hag, would make a rush to- 
 ward Rex, shrieking and brandishing clubs and 
 clawing the air with their long finger nails; and 
 were prevented from wreaking their rage upon the 
 unfortunate boy only by the lusty arms of three 
 burly warriors who pushed and knocked them back 
 with little ceremony. 
 
 Rex was a brave boy, and knew how to control 
 his emotions; but the scene around him was so 
 terribly portentous of the horrors to come, that, 
 even his brave heart faltered and trembled, and he 
 had to grit his jaws together to keep from scream- 
 ing, at the thought of the harrowing tortures that 
 he felt sure would be his, when the Indian warriors 
 around the camp-fire had worked themselves up 
 into the proper frenzy of rage. Strange that at 
 this dreadful moment the thought of how his father 
 had suffered a like fate should come to him and 
 bring him comfort and courage, but it did. He 
 recalled all that he had heard of his father's horrible 
 fate how he and the dozen of other trappers with 
 him had been suddenly surrounded by hundreds 
 of armed Blackfeet and captured, how all of them 
 had been put to the torture, how one of them had 
 finally escaped and had been found in a dying con- 
 dition by a party of trappers, and how he had lived 
 only long enough to tell of the horrors through 
 which he had passed and of the heroic fortitude 
 of his comrades when put to the torture by their 
 
The Killing of the Buck Elk 291 
 
 savage captors. The thought of how unflinchingly 
 his father had endured the very tortures that now 
 threatened him, put new courage into his heart. He 
 would not disgrace such a father. He would show 
 these savages that the same heroic blood flowed 
 through his veins. 
 
 But now the time to put his fortitude to the test 
 had come. The council around the camp-fire 
 suddenly broke up with howls of savage exultation. 
 The squaws and papooses, circling around the 
 prisoner, became more furious and more threaten- 
 ing, but still the guards kept them back. A frenzy 
 of savage excitement seemed suddenly to take 
 possession of the whole encampment. 
 
 Rex knew that his fate had been decided, that 
 he was doomed to the torture, that the supreme 
 moment had come; and every nerve and cord and 
 tendon in his body steeled and steadied itself for the 
 dread ordeal. He no longer trembled, he had every 
 nerve and muscle under control; and, when a huge 
 chief, followed by six warriors, forced his way 
 through the screaming threatening squaws and 
 papooses to his side, and, cutting the thongs that 
 bound him to the tree with one blow of his toma- 
 hawk, motioned him to arise, Rex arose and faced 
 him with dauntless mien and unafraid eyes. 
 
 "Ugh, heap brave white papoose !" and something 
 like admiration shone in the somber eyes of the 
 chief. "Indian love brave men. No kill like 
 squaw. Kill like brave warrior. Come," and the 
 
292 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 chief, motioning Rex to follow, turned his broad 
 back on him and stalked back through the shriek- 
 ing crowd that surged around them. 
 
 The limbs of Rex were now free. In the belt 
 of the chief within easy reach was the chief's knife. 
 A sudden leap, and the knife would be in his hand. 
 A swift blow, and the chief would lie dead and 
 he would fall dead on his body, under the avenging 
 knives of the six warriors a swift and merciful 
 death, a thousand times better than the slow death 
 by torture. 
 
 Every muscle in Rex's body stiffened, every cord 
 tightened, his eyes were on the knife, he was about 
 to spring; and then, as distinctly as if spoken in 
 his ear, he seemed to hear the parting words of Cap- 
 tain Young: "Now, you boys just make the best 
 of whatever luck comes, and remember that real 
 pluck and grit will 'most always win out, even in 
 the most desperate situations." His was, indeed, 
 a "most desperate situation," but it was not abso- 
 lutely hopeless. Something yet might happen. He 
 would give "pluck and grit" a chance to "win out ;" 
 and, lifting his eyes resolutely from the knife, he 
 followed the chief. 
 
 Guarded by the six warriors, Rex was now con- 
 ducted to where the dead, bare trunk of a huge 
 tree stood in the bright light of the camp-fires. 
 The chief gave a guttural command, and his back 
 was thrust against the tree, his arms pulled back- 
 ward and his hands tightly bound behind the trunk. 
 
The Killing of the Buck Elk 293 
 
 A large circle was now formed around the pris- 
 oner, its inner ranks composed of the warriors and 
 back of them stood the squaws and papooses. The 
 light from the camp-fires brightly illuminated the 
 wild scene. 
 
 Rex knew what was coming. He had often 
 heard similar scenes described with shuddering 
 horror by the trappers around their camp-fires; 
 but now he was to be the victim himself. He knew 
 how the Indians would gloat over any signs of fear 
 or pain ; and grimly determined that he would show 
 them that a white boy could die as bravely, as 
 stoically as ever an Indian did; and he threw back 
 his head defiantly and proudly and looked out 
 straight before him from fearless eyes. 
 
 The big chief now made a short speech, which 
 was received with a wild burst of yells. The mo- 
 ment 'he ceased speaking, a warrior jumped out 
 from the surrounding circle, and, shouting his war- 
 whoop and flourishing his tomahawk, danced madly 
 in front of Rex for a minute, and then, suddenly, 
 with a mad yell, threw his tomahawk seemingly 
 straight at the head of Rex. The keen blade flashed 
 brightly in the firelight for an instant and the next 
 it was buried in the wood of the tree not a quarter 
 of an inch from the startled boy's head. 
 
 The skill of the warrior and the slight involuntary 
 jerk Rex had given his head, was received with 
 great applause and merriment; and the show went\ 
 merrily on. Warrior after warrior exhibited his 
 
294 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 skill, with the tomahawk, with the knife, with the 
 bow and arrow, until the tree around Rex's body 
 bristled with tomahawks, knives and arrows. 
 Many times the weapons had grazed his skin and 
 drew the blood, but not once had he received a seri- 
 ous wound, and, even in his extremity of peril, Rex 
 could but admire the skill of his tormentors; and 
 they, in turn, admired the fortitude and stoicism of 
 the white boy; for, after that first jerk of his head, 
 Rex had stood as motionless as a statue and faced 
 the deadly weapons with steadfast eyes. 
 
 But this had been only the prelude; now the real 
 tragedy was to begin. At a word from the big 
 chief, the warriors who had thrown or shot the 
 weapons rushed to the tree to withdraw them, while 
 a score of squaws pushed their way through the 
 encircling warriors and, with a hideous clatter of 
 tongues, threw down in a circle around Rex the 
 bundles of dry wood they carried, and which were 
 to form his funeral pyre; and an old hag, chanting 
 a death-song, began slowly approaching the pile, 
 a flaming torch held high above her head. 
 
 At the sight of the flaming torch, the last hope 
 left Rex and his lips began to move in prayer to the 
 God of all; and then, suddenly, the warrior, who 
 had thrown the first tomahawk with such skill, 
 uttered a startled exclamation, just as he was about 
 to draw his weapon from the tree, and bent eagerly 
 ^forward. His eyes had caught the glitter of the 
 firelight on the silver bracelet that encircled the 
 
The Killing of the Buck Elk 295 
 
 wrist of Rex. For an instant he examined the 
 bracelet closely, for a moment he looked intently 
 into the face of Rex; and then, turning quickly, he 
 dashed the flaming torch from the old hag's hand, 
 just as she bent to thrust it into the dry wood, 
 knocking her sprawling on the ground, and shouted 
 something to the astounded Indians. 
 
 In an instant pandemonium broke loose. A 
 hundred warriors leaped to their feet, their weapons 
 in their hands, their eyes glowing with baffled rage, 
 and started toward Rex and his defender, while the 
 old hag set up an unearthly howling, like a wolf 
 driven from food, and slunk swiftly away. But, 
 before the angry warriors could reach the tree 
 where the astounded boy stood wondering what was 
 happening, the big chief, with a tremendous bound, 
 sprang directly in front of Rex, and facing his rag- 
 ing warriors, threw up both his hands in a com- 
 manding gesture for silence. 
 
 Instantly the furious warriors stopped, some of 
 them not six feet from Rex and the encircling wood, 
 the howls and yells ceased and an ominous silence 
 followed, while every eye sought an explanation for 
 these strange acts in the face of the chief. 
 
 For a full minute the big chief stood silent, mo- 
 tionless, until the last sound of the tumult had died 
 away and the whisperings of the wind in the 
 branches of the trees above their heads could be 
 heard. Then he raised his right hand. 
 
 "Brothers," he said, "we are warriors, not wolves. 
 
296 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 We are men, not children. We will listen to the 
 words of Thunder-In-The-Face," and he turned to 
 the Indian who had caused all this turmoil and who 
 had stood, straight and motionless, by the side of 
 Rex. "Speak. Why should Thunder-In-The- 
 Face defend the white brave who has helped to send 
 so many of our warriors to the happy hunting- 
 grounds? Their spirits cry to us for vengeance. 
 Why was his hand stretched forth to turn aside 
 that vengeance ? Speak, Thunder-In-The-Face." 
 
 "The white brave is the brother of White 
 Otter. See, he wears the medicine bracelet of 
 White Otter on his wrist!" and, with a swift blow 
 of his knife, Thunder-In-The-Face cut the thongs 
 that bound the hands of Rex behind the tree, and, 
 catching hold of his right arm, held it out where 
 all could see the bracelet shining in the bright fire- 
 light. "The brother of White Otter is my 
 brother," he continued, after a moment's pause to 
 allow the exclamations of his astonished hearers 
 to quiet down. "Can an Indian see his brother 
 perish at the stake, and not lift his arm?" 
 
 The big chief, at the name of White Otter, 
 started slightly, and, turning quickly, bent and ex- 
 amined closely the silver bracelet that you will re- 
 member White Otter had placed on the wrist of 
 Rex. 
 
 "The words of Thunder-In-The-Face are true," 
 he said, straightening up and again facing the 
 circle of warriors. "The bracelet is the medicine 
 
The Killing of the Buck Elk 297 
 
 bracelet of White Otter. I, the father of White 
 Otter, know," and the tone in which he spoke the 
 name told that the big chief was very proud of his 
 son. "But," continued the chief, "I know not how 
 the medicine bracelet came on the wrist of the white 
 brave. He is not my son. How, then, can he be 
 the brother of White Otter? Speak, Thunder-In- 
 the-Face, how know you that he is the brother of 
 White Otter? How know you that White Otter 
 put the bracelet on the white brave's wrist?" 
 
 "I have looked into the face of the white brave," 
 answered Thunder-In-The-Face, "and it is the face 
 of the brother of White Otter. I saw the hand of 
 White Otter place the bracelet on the arm of the 
 white brave, as a token of their brotherhood. I 
 heard the words of White Otter when he told how 
 the white brave had saved him from the horns of 
 the mad bull. I saw the dead body of the mad bull 
 lying by the side of the dead body of the white 
 brave's horse. Where is White Cloud, the pride of 
 White Otter, the glory of his tribe? Was he not 
 the gift of White Otter to his white brother? 
 Would White Otter give White Cloud to any but 
 a brother? Have the horse of the white brave 
 brought hither. The eyes of the Great Bull will 
 know the horse of his son." 
 
 Many were the exclamations that had burst from 
 the lips of the surrounding warriors during these 
 words of Thunder-In-The-Face, and the faces of 
 some had softened, but the fires of rage still blazed 
 
298 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 furiously in the eyes of the majority, and the 
 squaws still wailed and howled back of the warriors. 
 
 "Let the horse of the white brave be brought/' 
 commanded Great Bull, the moment Thunder-In- 
 The-Face ceased speaking. 
 
 A few minutes later a couple of young Indians 
 appeared leading White Cloud between them. 
 The noble horse nickered and stretched out his nose 
 toward Rex, the moment he was brought to a stop 
 in front of the big chief. 
 
 "The horse is White Cloud," declared Great 
 Bull, as he stroked the curved neck of the beautiful 
 animal. "And White Cloud was the horse of 
 White Otter, my son. The words of Thunder-In- 
 The-Face are true. The white brave is the white 
 brother of White Otter ; for he wears the medicine 
 bracelet and rides the horse White Otter gave to his 
 white brother." The big chief paused, drew him- 
 self up to his full height, and, stretching out his 
 right arm palm outward, said, with quiet delibera- 
 tion: "The brother of White Otter is my son. 
 He shall go free. I have spoken. He shall go 
 free," he repeated, as he saw the angry glare that 
 flashed into the eyes of many of the surrounding 
 warriors. "I, the father of the son whose life he 
 saved from the horns of the mad bull, demand his 
 freedom. If there be any who would dispute the 
 justice of this demand, let him draw his knife and 
 stand forth. The Great Spirit will be our judge/ 1 
 and, laying his hand on the haft of the knife in his 
 
The Killing of the Buck Elk 299 
 
 belt, his eyes searched the circle of glowering faces 
 around him. 
 
 Not a warrior accepted the challenge, although 
 there were many guttural growls of discontent, 
 which quickly died away under the stern and stead- 
 fast eyes of the chief. 
 
 "It is well. Bring hither the weapons of my 
 white son and the saddle and bridle of his horse." 
 
 They were quickly brought and laid at the feet 
 of Rex. 
 
 "The brother of White Otter will rest in the tent 
 of his father, until the light of the morning makes 
 plain the trails of the mountains. Then Great Bull 
 will show him the way to his friends. Come," and 
 he motioned Rex to pick up his saddle and bridle and 
 weapons and follow him. 
 
 Of course Rex had not understood a word of all 
 this talk ; and you can imagine the condition of mind 
 he was in while these stormy scenes were raging 
 around him, how his hopes rose and fell, and some- 
 thing of the joy that thrilled through him, when at 
 last, the chief motioned him to pick up his own rifle 
 and to follow him; for now he knew that for the 
 present at least he was safe, that the Indians would 
 never have restored his weapons to him had they 
 intended to kill him. Then, too he had made a 
 shrewd guess from the actions of Thunder-In-The- 
 Face and the big chief and the parts White Cloud 
 and the bracelet had played, that White Otter was 
 in some way connected with his deliverance; but 
 
300 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 he could not understand just how it all had been 
 brought about until he was in the tent of Great Bull 
 and had listened to the chief's explanations in his 
 broken English. 
 
 The next morning, as soon as it was light, Great 
 Bull, accompanied by a half dozen picked war- 
 riors, rode with Rex, mounted on his beloved White 
 Cloud, out of that secluded little mountain valley 
 that had come so near to being his grave. At the 
 end of an hour's riding one of the Indians who had 
 been doing scout duty ahead, returned and reported 
 that a small party of white men were cautiously 
 making their way in their direction. 
 
 "Your friends there," the big chief said, turning 
 to Rex, after listening to this report, and pointing 
 in the direction where the scout had informed him 
 the white men were. "You go to them. Great 
 Bull happy to save life of white brave who save life 
 of White Otter, his son. Good-by. How how," 
 and the big chief gave Rex his hand, then, wheeling 
 his horse about, galloped off, followed by his 
 braves. 
 
 Half an hour later Rex was relating his ad- 
 ventures to an intensely interested group of listen- 
 ers Kit Carson and Captain Tom and twelve of 
 the trappers, who were on the trail of his captors. 
 The others had been left to guard the camp. 
 
 "Wai, I'll be durned!" was the characteristic 
 comment of Hammer Jones, when Rex had ended 
 
Tne Killing of the Buck Elk 301 
 
 his narration. "That's tew Ingines that otter have 
 been horned white." 
 
 "I know Great Bull/' Kit Carson said quietly. 
 "He is the most powerful chief in all the Blackfoot 
 tribe. I doubt if any other Indian could have 
 taken you right out of the clutches of the red devils, 
 without a fight. But," and his firm lips came to- 
 gether tightly, "where is Dill?" 
 
 "He he I I Didn't he get to camp?" cried 
 the horrified boy, his face whitening and his whole 
 body trembling. "Then the Indians must have got 
 him, too !" 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE AMBUSCADE 
 
 COR a minute after that dread conjecture of 
 Rex, with which the last chapter closed, no 
 one spoke, and there was not a face in the company 
 that did not whiten. All knew what capture by 
 the Blackfeet Indians meant. Then Kit Carson 
 turned to Rex in his quick decisive way. 
 
 "You neither saw nor heard anything of Dill or 
 of any other white captive in the encampment 
 where you were ?" he asked. 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Then he was not there and yet there, to their 
 stronghold, is where they would take him, if he 
 were alive," he added under his breath. 
 
 For a minute or two Kit Carson stood silent, 
 deep in thought, then his face cleared and he turned 
 decisively to Captain Tom and Steeltrap Smith. 
 
 "My belief is," he said, "that the party of In- 
 dians who captured Dill did not have time to reach 
 their valley stronghold last night before it became 
 too dark for them to travel safely. If I am right, 
 they will try to get there this morning; and we 
 must try to cut them off before they can do so. 
 That is my judgment." 
 
 302 
 
The Ambuscade 303 
 
 "My judgment, too," Captain Tom declared. 
 
 "Then, let's git after th' red devils," Steeltrap 
 Smith exclaimed impatiently. " 'Tain't no time 
 for discussin'. I reckon we're all willin' tew trust 
 tew your jedgement, Kit. Only git us in sight of 
 them Inguns that's got th' boy as quick as th' 
 Lord'll let you. 'Tain't pleasant tew think of Dill 
 in th' hands of them devils." The old trapper's 
 face was white with anxiety and his eyes seemed on 
 fire in their sockets. He knew what Blackfoot tor- 
 ture meant ! 
 
 "Can you take us to a point where the Indians 
 must pass to reach this mountain stronghold?" and 
 Kit Carson turned swiftly to Rex. 
 
 "Yes. They must pass through a narrow valley 
 about a couple of miles from here. At least that is 
 the way we came out." 
 
 "Then lead us there at once. Every man see 
 that his rifle is ready for instant use. Fall in 
 single file. Move as silently as possible. Remem- 
 ber your ears and eyes are now guarding your 
 lives. Forward!" and Kit Carson took his station 
 by the side of Rex and signified that he was ready 
 to start. 
 
 Rex now had an opportunity to see the famous 
 Kit Carson in action. He rode erect, sitting in his 
 saddle as if he were a part of the horse, his left 
 hand grasping the reins, his right holding his rifle 
 across the pommel of his saddle in such a way that 
 it could be instantly thrown to his shoulder, and his 
 
304 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 wonderful eyes, keen, searching, flashing their 
 swift glances to the front and to the sides every 
 sense acutely alert to every sound and movement 
 that might mean danger. As they rode on no one 
 spoke; no one made an unnecessary sound. Even 
 the horses seemed to feel the danger and the need 
 of silence, and moved almost without a sound. At 
 any moment the dread war-whoop of the Blackfeet 
 might ring in their ears, at any moment their 
 arrows and bullets might come whistling after their 
 lives; for they were now riding through a country 
 where ambuscading would be easy, and they had no 
 time to guard themselves against it. They must 
 take their chances. 
 
 Suddenly, just as they were entering the narrow 
 valley Rex had spoken of, Kit Carson brought his 
 horse to a halt and held up his hand for silence. 
 His keen ears had heard a suspicious sound. In- 
 stantly every man and horse was transformed into 
 equestrian statues. 
 
 Rex strained his eyes and ears, but he could hear 
 nothing, see nothing. 
 
 "They are coming!" whispered Kit Carson. 
 "Quick! In the brush on both sides of the valley. 
 We must ambuscade them. Captain Tom take six 
 of the men to the other side of the valley. The rest 
 will remain here with me. My rifle will fire the 
 signal shot." 
 
 Captain Tom, with six of the trappers, instantly 
 hurried, but so silently that Rex could not hear a 
 
The Ambuscade 305 
 
 sound, to the other side of the valley, where trees 
 and rocks afforded ample concealment for horses 
 and men. Kit Carson, as swiftly and as silently, 
 hid his men and horses behind rocks and trees on 
 his side of the valley. In three minutes after the 
 command was given, not a man nor horse was to be 
 seen, and the valley looked as quiet and as peaceful 
 as an Arcadian dale. 
 
 The open and level part of the valley was not 
 over ten rods wide, with a steep ridge of rocks 
 covered with trees lying along each side. An ideal 
 place for an ambuscade; and Kit Carson had been 
 quick to make the most of all its advantages. 
 
 Rex found himself behind a mass of rocks, with 
 Steeltrap Smith for a comrade. As yet he had 
 heard no sound nor seen a sign of the advancing 
 Indians. But now, coming faintly from far down 
 the valley, he could hear the sound of horses' hoof 
 beats and the voices of men. The eyes of Steel- 
 trap Smith glistened as he listened. 
 
 "I reckon they're so near home that they feel 
 safe, or they'd be more keerful," he said. "An' no- 
 body's but Kit's eyes could have followed 'em here. 
 Now, jest be keerful tew keep out of sight, when th' 
 shootin' begins," and his eyes dwelt on Rex with 
 an anxiety curious in its intensity. "We don't 
 want to be sendin' back no death notices tew your 
 dad." 
 
 "I have no father," Rex answered, his face 
 saddening. "He he was killed by the Blackfeet 
 
306 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 about ten years ago. At least he was captured by 
 them, and we have never heard a word of him 
 since; and and you know what that means." 
 
 For a minute or more Steeltrap sat looking 
 steadily into the eyes of Rex, an expression on his 
 face that almost frightened the boy, then he swiftly 
 brushed one of his hands across his clouded fore- 
 head. 
 
 "I I sometimes think I must have had a boy/' 
 he said, as his eyes darkened. "I I " He 
 struggled as if vainly trying to grip some memory, 
 moved his eyes from the face of Rex, glanced down 
 the valley and gripped his rifle. 
 
 "Thar, thar they come !" he cried, his face clear- 
 ing and the hard lights coming back into his eyes. 
 
 Yes, there they came ! Twenty-five Indian war- 
 riors on their war-ponies, riding slowly up the 
 valley, looking watchfully to the right and to the 
 left, but making no effort to keep their voices quiet. 
 Evidently they felt confident that they were safe 
 beyond pursuit. 
 
 Rex's eyes searched their ranks eagerly for Dill ; 
 and presently they saw him. He was riding, ap- 
 parently unhurt and unbound, by the side of a tall 
 young Indian chief. 
 
 "There he is!" whispered the excited boy to 
 Steeltrap Smith. "There he is by the side of that 
 young Indian; and I don't believe that he is hurt 
 a bit. Oh, I wish I could yell!" 
 
 "Keep quiet!" and Steeltrap Smith turned a 
 
The Ambuscade 307 
 
 stern face to him. "If you don't want tew see that 
 youngster killed afore your eyes, keep quiet. Our 
 only chance tew save him is tew take them Inguns 
 by surprise. It they git th' chance they'll kill him 
 afore they'll let us git him. Now, don't you dare 
 tew move so much as an eye-winker, 'til Kit gives 
 th' signel. Then give it tew 'em hot." 
 
 On came the Indians, riding slowly near the 
 center of the open space in the valley, utterly un- 
 conscious of their deadly peril, their plumes and 
 blankets fluttering in the breeze and their lance 
 heads and ornaments glittering in the bright sun- 
 light. Now they were almost between the two 
 parties of ambuscading trappers, and so near that 
 Rex could see the features of Dill distinctly. He 
 was very pale and a streak of red down one side of 
 his face showed that he had been hurt. Now they 
 were directly between the two bodies of hidden 
 trappers. 
 
 Rex's finger was on the trigger of his rifle, his 
 eye glancing along its barrel, ready for the signal. 
 His heart was thumping madly. Oh, would the 
 signal never come? 
 
 BANG! 
 
 Then, BANG BANG BANG the twelve 
 rifles spoke almost with one voice. 
 
 "At them, boys!" yelled Kit Carson, leaping 
 down the ridge. 
 
 Rex jumped up from behind the rock, and raced 
 down the ridge, yelling insanely. All the trappers 
 
308 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 were yelling like fiends. His one desire was to get 
 to Dill as quickly as possible. Steeltrap Smith ran 
 close by his side. Almost before Rex knew it, his 
 arms were around Dill ; and he was watching with 
 breathless interest a tremendous struggle between 
 Hammer Jones and the young Indian chief. Both 
 had dropped their knives; and now, with arms 
 locked around each other's bodies, each was striv- 
 ing to throw the other and to regain his knife. 
 The muscles of the young Indian seemed made of 
 steel springs, so strong, so sudden were his move- 
 ments. For a minute it seemed as if even the giant 
 frame and great strength of Hammer Jones would 
 not be able to overcome them. Then Ham got the 
 hold he wanted; and, suddenly, the Indian went 
 down, flat on his back^jAdth Ham on top of him, his 
 strong hands gripping the arms of the Indian in 
 such a way as to render him helpless. 
 
 "Hand me my knife somebody," panted Ham, 
 "an' I'll soon make this devil lay still." 
 
 The knife lay at the feet of Rex, and, stooping 
 quickly, he seized it and hurried to the side of Ham. 
 
 The Indian now lay quiet. He had ceased to 
 struggle. He was composing himself for the 
 death-blow. His eyes were fixed in defiant scorn 
 on the face of his antagonist. 
 
 Rex handed the knife to Ham, glanced at the 
 face of the young chief and suddenly threw his 
 arms around the upraised arm of Hammer Jones. 
 
The Ambuscade 309 
 
 "It's White Otter!" he yelled. "Do not kill 
 him ! You shall not kill him !" 
 
 Ham shook his arm free, thrust his knife into his 
 belt and rose to his feet. 
 
 "Wai, I'll be durned!" and he stared blankly 
 from the face of the young Indian to the face of 
 Rex. 
 
 Rex instantly sprang to the side of White Otter, 
 and, catching hold of one of his arms, helped him 
 to his feet, and stood defiantly by his side. 
 
 The young Indian chief stood motionless by the 
 side of Rex, his eyes glancing calmly around the 
 circle of trappers that now surrounded them. He 
 appeared the least excited, the least interested, of 
 all the actors in this dramatic scene. 
 
 All the other Indians, who had not been killed 
 by the volley of the trappers, had fled at the first 
 sight of the trappers rushing down upon them from 
 both sides of the valley. The horse of White Otter 
 had fallen, with a bullet through his head, and, as 
 the young chief jumped to his feet, Hammer Jones 
 had leaped upon him, and the struggle already de- 
 scribed had taken place. He now stood by the side 
 of Rex, alone, surrounded by his white enemies. 
 
 "White Otter is my brother. He gave me White 
 Cloud. His father, Great Bull, has just saved me 
 from death by torture, because his son, White 
 Otter, is my brother. White Otter must not be 
 harmed. He must be allowed to go free," and Rex 
 
310 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 glanced appealingly around the circle of faces. 
 
 "Them is my sentiments, tew," and Hammer 
 Jones stepped to the other side of White Otter. 
 "Shake. You're th' whitest Ingine an' th' toughest 
 skinful of bones an' muscles, white or red, for your 
 heft, I ever tackled," and Ham grabbed the hand 
 of the young chief and shook it heartily. 
 
 "Yes, White Otter shall go free," and, with a 
 smile on his pleasant face, Kit Carson approached 
 the young Indian. "Carry to the Great Bull, your 
 father, our thanks," he continued, addressing the 
 chief, "for saving your white brother from the 
 hands of the torturers and giving him his freedom. 
 Tell him the white trappers know how to return 
 good for good, evil for evil, bullets for bullets. 
 Tell him that his son, the White Otter, is worthy 
 of the great chief, his father. Now go. You are 
 free. The white trappers must not linger so near 
 the stronghold of the Blackfeet." 
 
 The young chief turned, and, taking the hand of 
 Rex, placed it on his naked bosom over his heart. 
 
 "Twice has my white brother saved the life of 
 White Otter," he said, in his soft pleasant voice. 
 "As long as the heart under your hand beats will 
 White Otter remember his white brother. The 
 hatchet is buried forever between us. We are 
 brothers, not enemies. Farewell," and, turning 
 from Rex, the young chief glanced calmly around 
 the circle of his enemies; and then walked slowly 
 away, not once turning his head nor hastening a 
 
The Ambuscade 311 
 
 single footstep, and thus passed out of view over a 
 small ridge a dozen rods up the valley. 
 
 "Now," and Kit Carson turned to the trappers 
 "we must get out of here just as fast as our horses 
 legs will take us, or we will have the whole tribe of 
 Blackfeet whooping down upon us. Everybody 
 mount," and he sprang upon the back of his horse 
 and led the way back to the trail to California. 
 
 That night, when all were safely back in camp, 
 Kit Carson summoned the two boys; and told them 
 that henceforth they must understand that he never 
 gave one of his men a command that he did not 
 think necessary, and that he never gave a command 
 that he did not expect to be obeyed to the letter. He 
 then showed them that, if Rex had obeyed him and 
 not followed the elk beyond sight of the trail, and, 
 if Dill had obeyed him and not followed Rex out of 
 sight of the trail, neither of them would have been 
 captured by the Blackfeet, and that all of this delay 
 and trouble and bloodshed six Indians had been 
 killed would have been avoided. 
 
 Rex and Dill had nothing to say in their defense, 
 and returned to their tent with a new lesson on the 
 necessity of strict obedience in their hearts. 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 THE DEVIL'S MOUTH 
 
 '"THE next morning the journey to California was 
 * resumed. 
 
 Two days later our friends entered the fertile and 
 picturesque Valley of the Bear River, a stream some 
 two hundred feet wide, fringed with willows and 
 hawthorns, which flowed into the Great Salt Lake, 
 that wonderful inland sea, over whose salty waters 
 the superstitions of the trappers and the Indians had 
 thrown a veil of romantic and mysterious interest. 
 
 They were now in a region of many natural 
 wonders, of fearsome dread to the superstitious In- 
 dians, who believed it to be the abode of the Great 
 Spirit, and who shunned its more awesome places 
 with religious dread. They had passed out of the 
 country frequented by the terrible Blackfeet; and, 
 consequently, they had little to fear from the In- 
 dians, but the caution of Kit Carson did not allow 
 them to relax their vigilance in the least. 
 
 Rex and Dill had heard much about a number of 
 strange mineral springs that the trappers called the 
 Beer Springs from Steeltrap Smith and the other 
 trappers, who had been through this section of the 
 country before; and, when, late one afternoon, the 
 
 312 
 
The Devil's Mouth 313 
 
 little cavalcade, rode down into a basin-like valley 
 lying close to the north bank of the Bear River and 
 went into camp in a grove of cedar only a few rods 
 from one of the largest of these springs, the boys 
 could hardly wait to properly care for and picket 
 their horses before starting out to investigate the 
 wonders of the place. 
 
 "Am dat dar spring jes' a-bubblin' beer right up 
 out ob de ground, like it was wattah?" Pom in- 
 quired wonderingly of the two boys, as accompanied 
 by the negro boy, they hurried to the side of the 
 spring for their first drink of its waters. 
 
 "Sure," Rex replied smiling, "and you can drink 
 all you can hold without its costing you a cent." 
 
 "Den dis niggah done gwine to come mighty nigh 
 busticatin' his ab-dom-a-men," and Pom began un- 
 loosening his trouser's belt and otherwise preparing 
 for the drink of his life. 
 
 They soon reached the side of the spring, and 
 found its waters effervescing and bubbling like a 
 huge caldron of veritable beer. 
 
 "Golly! Dat sho'ly am beer!" and the mouth of 
 Pom made a dive for the effervescing waters. 
 
 In another moment Pom's thick lips were sucking 
 up the water like a steam pump ; but, suddenly the 
 sucking stopped, and, straightening up with a jerk, 
 he spit out about a quart of water and rose to his 
 feet, a look of extreme disgust on his fat face. 
 
 "Dat ain't no mo' beer dan sourkrout am plum- 
 puddin'," he declared, " 'less it am de debbel's beer," 
 
314 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 he amended. "I done smelled de brimstone/' and 
 nothing could prevail upon him to take another drink 
 of its waters, nor of the waters of any of the other 
 effervescing springs. 
 
 Rex and Dill both drank of the bubbling waters, 
 and found them to have a slightly acid pungent 
 taste, not altogether disagreeable; but both of the 
 boys agreed that nobody would ever get drunk on 
 beer, if all of the beer in the world came from these 
 springs. 
 
 There were a large number of similar springs in 
 the basin, and the surface of the river for a couple 
 of hundred yards was in constant agitation from the 
 escaping gases. 
 
 About a mile to the west of the Beer Springs and 
 only a few feet from the river, Rex and Dill found 
 another spring that awakened their curiosity and 
 wonder even more than did the Beer Springs. 
 Here, through an opening in a large red rock, a 
 white column of water and foam was being con- 
 stantly thrown upward to a height of some three 
 feet, accompanied by subterranean noises, not un- 
 like the sounds of a steamboat in motion. From 
 this sound and motion some fanciful trapper had 
 given the spring the name of Steamboat Spring. 
 They found the water hot and of a disagreeable 
 bitter taste. 
 
 Suddenly, while they were examining this spring, 
 Pom, who had sat down on a near-by rock, uttered 
 a yell of terror and bounded up into the air, as if a 
 
The Devil's Mouth 315 
 
 charge of dynamite had been exploded under him. 
 The moment he lit on his feet, he leaped off, casting 
 frightened glances behind him, and did not stop 
 until he had put a dozen rods between him and the 
 rock where he had been sitting. 
 
 Rex and Dill jumped at the sound of the negro's 
 wild yell, and whirled about ; but, seeing nothing to 
 cause his fright, stared after him in amazement. 
 
 "Come erway frum dar quick!" yelled the ter- 
 rified negro. "De debble am in dat rock fo' sho'. 
 He done blowed me off dat rock wid one hot breff 
 frum his hot lungs Golly, dar he blow ag'in !" and 
 with bulging eyes the horrified negro boy stared at 
 the rock on which he had been so recently sitting. 
 
 Rex and Dill turned quickly, and saw a light 
 wreath of smoke shoot up from the rock accom- 
 panied by a sharp hissing noise, like the escape of 
 steam from an exhaust-pipe. For a moment both 
 boys stared in astonishment at the smoke; and then 
 burst into hearty laughter, as the cause of Pom's 
 fright dawned upon them. He had seated himself 
 directly over a small hole, about an inch in diameter, 
 in the rock, through which, at regular intervals, a 
 hot blast of air and smoke was shot, with a sharp 
 hissing sound. Naturally the fat body of Pom had 
 closed this vent tightly and delayed the blast, until 
 the subterranean forces could gather sufficient power 
 for the hot blast to blow him off the opening, with 
 the result that Pom felt sure that he had been hit by 
 a breath of hot air fresh from the devil's hot mouth, 
 
316 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 and no persuadings of Rex and Dill could get him 
 to come a step nearer to "de debble's motiff/' as he 
 called the rock. 
 
 Rex and Dill would gladly have lingered longer 
 in this land of wonders, for, in whatever direction 
 they looked they saw something to awaken their cu- 
 riosity and interest ; but Kit Carson was too anxious 
 to get to California to delay a moment for the pur- 
 pose of studying the beauties and wonders of nat- 
 ure, and early the next morning the cavalcade of 
 trappers was again on its way toward the setting 
 sun. 
 
 For many days they now journeyed westward, 
 sometimes through barren stretches of country, 
 where there was neither food nor water for man or 
 beast and where Rex and Dill first learnt the tor- 
 tures of hunger and thirst, sometimes through de- 
 lightful valleys, where game was abundant, grass 
 and water plentiful and the eyes were greeted by a 
 constant succession of beautiful scenes, and some- 
 times the trail took them along the precipitous sides 
 of lofty mountains, down into walled canyons, 
 through mighty mountain gateways, where every 
 prospect was sublime with a wild grandeur and 
 beauty no pen could describe and no brush could 
 picture. They saw many Indians belonging to 
 many tribes ; but all were friendly to the whites and 
 they had no serious trouble with them. 
 
 Thus traveling, day after day, never stopping, ex- 
 cept to camp at night and to rest and eat at noon, 
 
The Devil's Mouth 317 
 
 they pressed ever westward the wonderful knowl- 
 edge, instinct, intuition call it what you will of 
 Kit Carson and Steeltrap Smith almost never being 
 at fault and finally crossed the last ridge of moun- 
 tains, and, one warm sunny August afternoon, en- 
 tered the beautiful Sacramento Valley and camped 
 that night within a day's ride of their journey's end, 
 the Mission of San Rafael. 
 
 Rex and Dill, during this long ride westward, had 
 become close friends with Steeltrap Smith. The 
 old trapper, whenever his duties permitted was al- 
 ways by the side of one of the boys. Their youth 
 and the enthusiasm that always goes with youth, 
 seemed to strike some long-hidden chord in the 
 lonely man's nature, and set it to vibrating with 
 hopes and feelings that had long been slumbering. 
 Sometimes he would ride for hours by the side of 
 Rex, hardly uttering a word, his eyes constantly 
 turning to the face of the boy, with a questioning 
 wondering look in them that always made Rex un- 
 easy. Once Rex plucked up courage to ask him 
 why he looked at him so strangely, and the old 
 trapper's brows had clouded. 
 
 "I don't know jest why," he replied, "but thar's 
 somethin' in your face, like a half-remembered 
 dream, that makes me want tew look at you. You 
 don't mind?" he added wistfully; and all the re- 
 mainder of that day he looked so gloomy and sad 
 that neither boy had the heart to question him again. 
 
 Both lads had learned from Kit Carson all that he 
 
318 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 knew about the papers in the possession of the 
 brother in the Mission of San Rafael, and which 
 they had come so far to secure. It was little. He 
 had never seen the papers, and had only heard Dill's 
 Uncle Manuel speak of them as possibly containing 
 some information that might be of value to Noel 
 Conroyal, but what that information was he did not 
 have the slightest idea. 
 
 And now that the two boys were at last so near to 
 the mission, after so many weary weeks of journey- 
 ing and waiting, their anxiety to see the brother and 
 fathom the mystery that had sent them half-way 
 across a continent, through the perils of an un- 
 known wilderness, became almost unbearable; and 
 that last night in the Valley of the Sacramento, be- 
 fore they reached San Rafael, seemed to the boys 
 the longest night they had ever passed, so eager 
 were they for the last day of their long journey to 
 dawn. 
 
 The next morning Rex and Dill were the first 
 ones up in camp. 
 
 "Rout out! Turn out! Everybody get up!" 
 they shouted, as they ran from man to man, dump- 
 ing them out of their blankets. "We're almost 
 there. Hurrah for the Mission of San Rafael!" 
 
 By sunrise the cavalcade was again in motion. 
 
 Rex and Dill now rode at the head of the com- 
 pany, along with Kit Carson and Steeltrap Smith. 
 At the top of every rise of ground they strained 
 their eyes westward, hoping to catch a glimpse of 
 
The Devil's Mouth 3*9 
 
 the towers of the Mission of San Rafael ; but it was 
 not until the middle of the afternoon that Kit Car- 
 son turned to the two boys and, with a smile, said : 
 "I think you can see the mission buildings from the 
 top of that hill," and he pointed to a small hill that 
 rose from the level of the valley a half a mile ahead 
 of them. 
 
 With a glad shout, both boys were off, as fast as 
 they could make their horses go, White Cloud seem- 
 ing almost to fly, as he leaped over the ground, 
 bringing Rex to the summit of the hill a dozen or 
 more rods ahead of Dill. 
 
 "Hurrah! Hurrah!" and the excited boy jerked 
 off his hat and swung it around his head. "We're 
 there at last! Yonder are the mission buildings!" 
 he shouted, turning to Dill, who now came up on a 
 gallop and pulled his horse to a stop by the side of 
 White Cloud. 
 
 Below them stretched a broad valley, and in the 
 midst of it, glowing redly in the warm light of the 
 western sun, were the fort-like buildings of the old 
 Spanish Mission of San Rafael, surrounded by 
 cultivated fields, while the neighboring prairies 
 were covered with the herds and flocks of the mis- 
 sion. 
 
 "My, but those buildings do look good !" and the 
 face of Rex glowed with interest Remember it 
 had now been over a year since the boys had seen 
 the dwelling-place of a civilized human being "I 
 wonder how it will seem to sleep once more under 
 
320 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 a real roof, surrounded by four solid walls, and eat 
 off a real table, with a white table cloth on it? I 
 have almost forgotten how such things look," and 
 he laughed. 
 
 "So have I," and Dill joined in the laugh. "But 
 I really haven't missed them. I didn't suppose be- 
 fore that a fellow could get along with so little and 
 still be as comfortable as we have been. I wonder 
 if those papers are still there," and his face sobered, 
 as his eyes rested on the distant mission buildings. 
 "It would be too bad, if, after all our trouble, we 
 should find them gone." 
 
 "Oh, stop your grumping! Of course we will 
 find the papers there. We didn't come all this dis- 
 tance for nothing. I wonder what can be in those 
 papers," and the smooth forehead of Rex wrinkled. 
 "I don't see why Uncle Noel should have made 
 such a mystery about them. Let's have another 
 look at that letter your father gave you. Maybe 
 we were to open it, as soon as we got to the mis- 
 
 sion." 
 
 "No, I think not, not until we had first secured 
 and read the papers ; but, we'll see," and Dill thrust 
 his hand under his coat and into a buckskin pocket 
 strongly sewed to the bosom of his shirt, and 
 drew out a sealed letter, carefully wrapped in oil- 
 skin, and, unwrapping it, read the superscription. 
 "I was right. See," and he handed the letter to 
 Rex. 
 
 The superscription read : 
 
The Devil's Mouth 3 21 
 
 To DILL CONROYAL and REX HOLT. 
 
 ( Not to be opened and read, until after they have 
 secured and read the papers at the Mission of San 
 Rafael.) 
 
 "Yes, you are right," and Rex handed the letter 
 back to Dill. "We have got to wait until we get 
 those papers before we know anything more about 
 this mystery ; and I am glad we do not have to wait 
 much longer. I am getting very anxious to know 
 what it is all about. Maybe the papers tell of the 
 hiding-place of some treasure that your Uncle Man- 
 uel had hidden away/' and his eyes sparkled. 
 " Wouldn't that be great, if they did, and we should 
 find the treasure?" 
 
 "You bet !" Dill agreed. "And I wouldn't be sur- 
 prised, if that was just it. Come, let's ride on to- 
 ward the mission. The others have almost caught 
 up with us ; and it doesn't seem as if I could wait un- 
 til we get inside those walls and have a look at those 
 papers." 
 
 Rex agreeing, the two boys started off on a trot 
 toward the distant mission buildings. 
 
 Two hours later, the ragged, patched, travel- 
 worn, weather-beaten, but strong and hardy band of 
 trappers rode through the mission gates and halted 
 in front of the mission buildings their long journey 
 ended. 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 
 THE MYSTERY OF THE PAPERS 
 
 THE sun had set when our friends entered the 
 gates of the Mission of San Rafael; but, so 
 anxious were Rex and Dill to solve the mystery of 
 the papers, that, the moment they had their horses 
 properly cared for, both hurried to Kit Carson and 
 Captain Tom. 
 
 "We want to find the brother who has the papers/' 
 Dill said, "and we don't know his name. Father, 
 somehow, missed telling us. How shall we find 
 him?" 
 
 "But, you are not going to hunt him up to-night? 
 Can't you wait until morning?" Kit Carson queried, 
 smiling at the excited faces of the two boys. 
 
 "What? Wait until morning, now that we are 
 here, when it has taken us over a year to get here ?" 
 and Dill looked at Carson in astonishment. "No; 
 we want to solve the mystery to-night. We couldn't 
 sleep a wink, if we didn't." 
 
 "Well, I confess to being some curious myself 
 about the contents of those mysterious papers," 
 laughed Carson; "and I don't want to wait until 
 morning either ; so, I reckon, we'd better try to find 
 the brother to-night and have it over. Let me see, 
 
 322 
 
The Mystery of the Papers 323 
 
 your father gave me the name of the brother in his 
 letter. It was Juan. Yes, that is the name, 
 Brother Juan. Come on, and we will try to find 
 Brother Juan," and Kit Carson lead the way toward 
 the large door of the mission building, near which 
 a number of the brothers were grouped around a tall 
 man, evidently the ecclesiastical head of the mission. 
 
 Kit Carson was warmly welcomed by the 
 brothers. A few years previous he had done this 
 mission a great service, by punishing some of their 
 rebellious Indians, after the mission had attempted 
 to do so and had been defeated ; and the brothers had 
 neither forgotten him nor his service. 
 
 As soon as the greetings and introductions were 
 over, Carson, who spoke Spanish fluently, told how 
 the boys had come from far-off New Orleans to 
 find one of the brothers, who was in this mission a 
 few years ago, and who was known by the name of 
 Brother Juan, and in whose care a man by the name 
 of Manuel Vargas had left some papers, which he 
 was to keep until Manuel Vargas, or someone hav- 
 ing authority from him, should come for them ; and 
 then he went on to explain that Manuel Vargas was 
 now dead, but that before dying he had told his 
 sister's husband, Noel Conroyal, about the papers 
 and had given him authority to get them; and that 
 the two boys, one of whom was a son of Noel Con- 
 royal and the other his nephew, had been sent after 
 the papers. 
 
 The moment Kit Carson finished speaking a tall 
 
324 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 venerable looking priest, with an inquiring glance 
 toward his superior, who nodded assent, stepped up 
 to Carson. 
 
 "I am Brother Juan," he said, speaking in En- 
 glish, "and I remember Manuel Vargas very well. 
 But he left no papers with me Wait Let me 
 think. My memory is not as good as it once was. 
 There was something about some papers. Now I 
 remember. Manuel Vargas was very much inter- 
 ested in some papers that lloa/v^Tsmrete a 
 sick man that I once cared for ; but he did not leave 
 them in my care. They were already mine. He 
 only wished me to guard them carefully, because he 
 believed they contained some information that would 
 be of great value to a relative of his, doubtless the 
 Noel Conroyal you spoke of. Possibly those are 
 the papers you have come so far to see. If so, I 
 still have them ; and will willingly allow you to ex- 
 amine them," and his eyes glanced from Carson to 
 the faces of the two boys. 
 
 "Yes, those must be the papers we have come to 
 get, since there are no others," Dill answered ea- 
 gerly. "And can we see them now, to-night ? You 
 see, we don't know what the papers are about, but 
 we know that it must be something very important, 
 or father would never have sent us half-way across a 
 continent to get them ; and and we just can't wait 
 until morning to find out. Please get them at once 
 for us," and Dill's face was full of appeal. 
 
 "The dear enthusiasm of youth!" and Brother 
 
The Mystery of the Papers 325 
 
 Juan smiled sweetly down into Dill's excited face. 
 "Yes, you shall see the papers to-night, at once. 
 Come with me. They are in my cell/' and he again 
 looked inquiringly to his superior, who again nodded 
 assent. Then he led the way, followed by the two 
 boys and Kit Carson and Captain Tom, into the 
 mission building and to his cell, which was one of 
 many opening into a long corridor running the full 
 length of the building. 
 
 "Be seated, please," and Brother Juan pointed to 
 a stone bench, projecting along the side of one of 
 the walls of the cell. "We priests, far away from 
 civilization, have not many of the luxuries of life," 
 and he glanced around his bare cell with a smile. 
 "Not that we care for ourselves ; only, when friends 
 come, we would make them more comfortable. 
 Now will I get those very important papers," and, 
 going to the opposite side of the room from the 
 bench, he opened a small door that fitted tightly into 
 the wall, exposing a cupboard, where he kept his 
 most cherished belongings. For a minute or two he 
 searched the little shelves of the cupboard; and then 
 he turned to the two boys, a small packet of papers, 
 tied with a buckskin thong, in his hand. 
 
 "I the circumstances remember clearly now," he 
 said, as he studied the superscription written on the 
 outside of the packet; "and, in order that you may 
 know how these papers came to be written, I will 
 relate them to you." He paused for a moment, his 
 eyes bent thoughtfully on the packet. Evidently he 
 
326 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 was recalling the long-passed scenes connected with 
 the papers in his hand. 
 
 Rex and Dill could hardly sit still on the bench, 
 so great was their excitement, now that those mys- 
 terious papers, which had been so long a burden of 
 curiosity and anxiety on their minds, were actually 
 within reach of their hands. 
 
 "I I hope it is the hidden treasure," whispered 
 Dill, his eyes on the precious packet. 
 
 "Or a gold-mine/' declared Rex. "Listen!" and 
 the eyes of both lads were fixed intently on the face 
 of the brother, who now turned his eyes again to 
 the little group on the bench. 
 
 "Eleven years ago," began Brother Juan, "a com- 
 pany of American trappers brought to the mission 
 a white man, whom they had rescued from the In- 
 dians after he had been most horribly tortured. 
 The poor man knew nothing. He was insane with 
 pain and the fever. I some skill have in medicine 
 and he was given into my care. The trappers did 
 not know whc the man was. He was in delirious, 
 you call it, and could not tell so much even as his 
 own name. I feared he might die ; and then might 
 come relatives inquiring; and who could tell them 
 who he was ? The man talked much, all wild talk ; 
 but there were names sometimes spoken, and I 
 thought, if I wrote down the names and such of his 
 words as seemed to tell something of his past life, 
 that the record might help sometime to make it 
 known who he was. This is the record I made," 
 
The Mystery of the Papers 327 
 
 and Brother Juan tapped the papers in his hand 
 with the finger of his other hand. 
 
 "And and did the man die?" Rex asked, his eyes 
 glowing with excitement and his face drawn and 
 white. 
 
 "No," Brother Juan replied. "The man lived; 
 but, unfortunately, when he became well, he had for- 
 gotten all of his past life, he did not know even his 
 own name, nor the name of a friend or a relative. 
 Poor fellow!" 
 
 "Where where is he?" Rex was now standing 
 on his feet and his whole body was trembling. 
 
 "I do not know," and Brother Juan's face sad- 
 dened. "One morning he went out on a hunt. 
 That was ten years ago, and we have never seen 
 him nor heard a word of him since." 
 
 "Oh, if he was my father !" and Rex sank back on 
 the bench. "If he was my father !" 
 
 "The papers! Let us see the papers," and Kit 
 Carson, his own face tense with excitement, rose 
 quickly to his feet and stretched out his hand for 
 the papers. 
 
 "They are in Spanish, but not long," and Brother 
 Juan began untying the buckskin thong. "Perhaps 
 I had better read them to you in English," and he 
 opened the papers. 
 
 "Yes," and Kit Carson, with his eyes on the face 
 of Rex, sat down. "But don't keep the boy long 
 in suspense. He is almost wild now." 
 
 "The names the man spoke," and Brother Juan 
 
328 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 read from the opened paper, "were Margaret 
 
 "The name of my mother! The name of my 
 mother !" and Rex again jumped to his feet. 
 
 "This name," continued the brother, "he spoke 
 often, the most often of all. Next in frequency was 
 the name Rex " 
 
 "My own name! My own name! He was my 
 father ! He was my father !" Rex now stood di- 
 rectly in front of the brother, staring down on the 
 paper. 
 
 "This name," Brother Juan's hands now were 
 trembling, "appeared to be the name of a little child, 
 a baby boy. Another name he often spoke was 
 Noel" 
 
 "My father's name!" and Dill grabbed Rex by 
 the hand. "He was your father, Rex! He was 
 your father ; and he is alive !" he cried in the greatest 
 excitement. 
 
 "You mean," and Brother Juan laid a hand on the 
 agitated boy's head, "that he was alive ten years 
 ago and that you hope the kind God permits him 
 still to live. There were other names " 
 
 "Did he " broke in Rex excitedly. "You nursed 
 him you cared for him you must know Did he 
 have a rifle and a beaver and a beaver trap all tat- 
 tooed in a red circle on his upper right arm? 
 Father was marked that way. I have often heard 
 mother describe the tattooing." 
 
 For a minute Brother Juan examined the paper, 
 
The Mystery of the Papers 329 
 
 and when he raised his eyes to the face of Rex there 
 were tears in them. 
 
 "Yes," he said. "You have given an exact des- 
 cription of the tattooing on the upper right arm of 
 the unknown man." 
 
 "Then," and Rex caught hold of the hand of the 
 priest and shook it as if he would jerk the arm from 
 the shoulder, "he was my father! He was my 
 father! There is no need of reading more now! 
 He was my father! Thank you; I, his son, thank 
 you for the care you gave him. Now," and he 
 turned to Kit Carson and Captain Tom, "we must 
 find my father. I will never go back to New Or- 
 leans until I have found my father, or I know that 
 he is dead." 
 
 "Wait we have not read father's letter! We 
 can read it now. Perhaps it will tell us what to 
 do," and Dill, excitedly thrusting his hand into the 
 pocket sewed to his shirt bosom, pulled out the letter 
 that he had carried so long and so far, and, with 
 trembling fingers, tore open the envelope. 
 
 All now crowded close around the two excited 
 boys ; and Dill, after a moment's rapid glance down 
 the written lines, read the letter aloud. 
 
 This is what he read: 
 
 MY DEAR SON AND NEPHEW : 
 
 When you read this letter you will have learned 
 the contents of the papers held by Brother Juan in 
 
330 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 the Spanish Mission of San Rafael, California ; and 
 will know whether or not they give any real clue to 
 my wife's long missing brother, the father of Rex, 
 whom we supposed to have been killed by the Black- 
 feet ten years ago. If in your judgment and the 
 judgment of Kit Carson, whom I trust as I would 
 my own brother, they appear to identify this man 
 as my wife's dear brother and Rex's father, then 
 I bid you search the West until you find him, or 
 learn positively of his death. 
 
 Kit Carson will aid you in the search. Give him 
 your fullest confidence and obedience. I have given 
 him authority to draw on Captain Young of Santa 
 Fe for ample funds to meet all expenses. 
 
 I have kept the purpose of your mission to Cali- 
 fornia from you, until now, because I did not wish 
 to raise any false hopes in the bosom of Rex, unless 
 there was a solid foundation for them to stand on. 
 
 Of course, if Rex should find his father, he must 
 bring him home with him, where a welcome from 
 wife and sister and relatives and friends is awaiting 
 him that will warm every drop of blood in his 
 body. 
 
 Now may God speed you on your mission and 
 bring you all safe home. 
 
 Your loving father and uncle, 
 
 NOEL H. CONROYAL. 
 
 "There, we are to search until we find him, if 
 we have to search through the whole West; that 
 
The Mystery of the Papers 331 
 
 is father's orders; and you are to help us," and 
 Dill turned anxiously to Kit Carson. 
 
 "That I will do most willingly/' Carson answered 
 promptly. "But now I think we have had enough 
 excitement for one night and had better return to 
 our quarters." 
 
 "I will accompany the two boys," Brother Juan 
 said; "for I know how the son's heart must long 
 to hear more of his father. I will tell him more 
 about that father." 
 
 Accordingly, when they returned to the quarters 
 which had been assigned for their use by the 
 brothers, Brother Juan was with them. 
 
 They found the trappers all gathered in a large 
 room, talking and laughing like a lot of schoolboys 
 out on a holiday frolic, all except Steeltrap Smith, 
 who was sitting moodily in a corner by himself. 
 The old trapper had come to have an almost fatherly 
 affection for the two boys, and the thought that now 
 that the journey was ended, they must soon separate, 
 perhaps never to see one another again, and that he 
 must live out his solitary life to the end, alone and 
 uncheered by the voices or presence of dear ones, 
 wrung the very chords of his heart. As the boys 
 entered the room his face lighted, and he arose 
 quickly and hurried toward them. 
 
 "Oh, Steeltrap, my father is alive ! My father is 
 alive !" cried Rex, the moment he caught sight of the 
 trapper. "We have found papers here proving it. 
 Brother Juan " 
 
332 With Kit Carson in the Rockies 
 
 He stopped short. Brother Juan had caught him 
 spasmodically by the shoulder and was staring 
 wildly into the face of Steeltrap Smith. The next 
 moment Brother Juan had seized the sleeve of the 
 trapper's right arm, and, with one vigorous jerk, 
 had torn it open from wrist to shoulder, exposing 
 the skin beneath ; and there, on the bared upper arm, 
 the startled eyes of Rex saw a rifle, a beaver and a 
 beaver trap, all tattooed in a red circle. 
 
 "My boy! My boy!" exclaimed the priest, his 
 eyes swimming. "This is the man I nursed back to 
 health! This is your father!" 
 
 For a moment Rex stood staring from the tattoo- 
 ing on the bared arm to the face of Brother Juan ; 
 and then, suddenly comprehending what it all meant, 
 with a look on his face and a yell that no one present 
 will ever forget, he threw his arms around the neck 
 of Steeltrap Smith, crying, "Father, my father !" 
 
 Steeltrap Smith stood for a minute, his mouth 
 working, his eyes staring, but not uttering a word. 
 Then he held Rex at arm's length from him, his eyes 
 searching his face. 
 
 "You, you my son! My son!" he cried. "O 
 God !" and, throwing both hands to his forehead, he 
 fell to the floor, like one struck dead. 
 
 In an instant Brother Juan was bending over 
 him, his hand searching for his heart. In a mo- 
 ment more he looked up, a glad light shining in his 
 eyes. 
 
 "God is good. He lives," he exclaimed. "The 
 
The Mystery of the Papers 333 
 
 excitement has overcome him. Now take the boy 
 away. I will send for him as soon as his father 
 recovers sufficiently to see him again/' 
 
 The strong arms of Hammer Jones almost carried 
 Rex, who was now weeping violently, from the 
 room and into the corridor outside; and there the 
 boy refused to go a step farther until he had learned 
 how it was with his father. 
 
 For two long hours, Rex waited outside the door, 
 in an agony of suspense ; and then the door opened 
 and Brother Juan stepped out. 
 
 "My boy!" and the saintly old man threw his arm 
 around Rex. "My boy, I have wondrous news 
 for you !" and his face shone with happiness. "All 
 is well with your father ; and, in the wonderful prov- 
 idence of God, the shock has restored to him his 
 lost memory. He wishes to see you. Come, I will 
 take you to him," and, holding Rex by the hand, he 
 lead the happy boy to where his father lay. 
 
 Possibly the readers of this book will be interested to 
 know that their friends, Rex and Dill, were with Fremont, 
 the Pathfinder, and Kit Carson, during those exciting days 
 when California was wrested from Mexico, and played 
 their parts bravely in the great drama that gave the Golden 
 State to the Union; and that the author proposes to tell, 
 in another book, the story of their adventures during this 
 dramatic period. 
 
^ Tale of the Alamo 
 IN TEXAS WITH DAVY CROCKETT 
 
 By EVERETT McNEIL 
 
 A Story of the Texas War of Independence 
 
 Illustrated. I2mo $1.50 
 
 The tale tells of the adventures of two boys, Trav 
 and Tom, during that intensely dramatic and exciting 
 period when Texas won her independence from Mexico 
 the most heroic in the history of America. The 
 famous bear-hunter and backwoods statesman DAVY 
 CROCKETT, and the even more famous SAM HOUS- 
 TON, are the two leading historical characters in the 
 story, while WILL TRAVIS, the ill-fated FANNIN, 
 JIM BOWIE, of bowie-knife fame, DEAF SMITH, the 
 famous Texan scout, and other characters well known 
 in Texan history, play important, if minor, parts in the 
 tale. 
 
 The story begins a few weeks before the battle of 
 the Alamo one of the most heroic in all history ; carries 
 the reader through the scenes of this battle and the still 
 more terrible Goliad, and reaches its final climax in 
 the battle of San Jacinto, where General Houston prac- 
 tically annihilates the Mexican army, captures Santa 
 Anna himself, and wins the Independence of Texas. 
 
 Great care has been taken to have all historical 
 data correct, and to give accurate pictures of the men 
 and the times, while, at the same time, telling a story 
 that will deeply interest the boy reader and make him 
 anxious to go to his history in order to learn more of 
 the heroic men in whose deeds it is hoped the tale has 
 given him almost a personal interest. 
 
 E. P. DUTTON & CO., Publishers 
 31 West Twenty-third Street, New York 
 
THE HERMIT OF THE CULEBRA 
 MOUNTAINS 
 
 Or, THE ADVENTURES OF TWO SCHOOLBOYS 
 IN THE FAR WEST 
 
 By EVERETT McNEIL 
 
 Illustrated. i2mo, cloth, . 
 
 $1.50 
 
 The story of a hunting trip in the Culebra Mountains, awarded 
 to two boys as the prize for the most manly conduct in the Yahara 
 High School for the term then ending. 
 
 Harry Ashton and Dick Orson win the prize and under Cap- 
 tain Kent's guidance start for the mountains. They make the 
 acquaintance of cowboys and Indians in the foothills and when riding 
 out from a ranch with the little daughter of the rancher are captured 
 and threatened with torture by Indians. The chief and others of 
 the band are killed by some mysterious agency, and they are res- 
 cued by the Hermit of the Culebra Mountains, taken up into his 
 marvelous tree-top home, where they are besieged by the Indians ; 
 they in turn rescue the cowboys who had followed the Indians, then 
 all go through a series of startling adventures and danger. The secret 
 of the Hermit is revealed. When in flight from the burning for- 
 tress of the Hermit they catch a glimpse of a secret treasure 
 cave of the ancients, but are forced to continue their flight. 
 
 A thoroughly real story of the wild western life when the cow- 
 boy and the Indian were natural enemies and the golden halo of 
 romance held up the western country as the El Dorado of adventure 
 and enterprise to the healthy-minded man and boy. 
 
 E. P. DUTTON & CO., Publishers 
 31 West Twenty- third Street, New York 
 
THE LOST TREASURE CAVE 
 
 Or, ADVENTURES WITH THE COWBOYS OP 
 COLORADO 
 
 By EVERETT McNEIL. 
 
 Illustrated. I2mo, cloth, . . . $1.50 
 
 The story of two Wisconsin schoolboys, who go to 
 southern Colorado to secure a vast treasure known to be 
 hidden in a great cave are captured by Indians, but 
 give the Indians the fright of their lives and escape 
 take part in a most exciting cowboy Fourth of July cele- 
 bration kill a wounded buffalo bull just in time to save 
 a young girl's life are kidnapped by desperadoes, who 
 are also after the treasure, taken to the mountains and 
 threatened with death and torture enter the marvel- 
 lous Treasure Chamber of the Dead Kings, and find 
 but, let the story itself tell what they found. 
 
 A wholesome tale that will interest boys, and give 
 them true pictures of cowboy life on the plains of Colo- 
 rado before the buffaloes were driven away and when 
 the Indians and the desperadoes were still an ever- 
 present danger. 
 
 E. P. DUTTON & CO., Publishers 
 31 West Twenty-third Street, New York 
 
BOORS BY 
 COLONEL H. R. GORDON 
 
 LOGAN, THE MINQO 
 
 A Story of the Frontier. i2mo, cloth, gilt top, illus- 
 trated $1.50 
 
 RED JACKET, THE LAST OF THE SENEGAS 
 
 i2mo, cloth, gilt top, illustrated .... $1.50 
 
 An exciting story of scouts and Indians in the expedition sent against the 
 Six Nations in the year 1779. The Outlook. 
 
 A regular Indian story is " Red Jacket, the Last of the Senecas," by Colonel 
 H. R. Gordon, author of three other popular books of Indian life and adven- 
 ture. The scene is laid in central and western New York and covers the in- 
 vasion of the country of the Six Nations by General Sullivan in 1779. 
 Boston Transcript. 
 
 PONTIAC, CHIEF OF THE OTTAWAS 
 
 A Tale of the Siege of Detroit. i2mo, cloth, gilt top, 
 illustrated $ I -5 
 
 It presents a skilful study of the famous Indian's individuality, conveyed 
 without sacrificing the rapid movement and engrossing interest of the narra- 
 tive. And both as bearing upon history and as an interpretation of character 
 the book is of a high order, while its interest grows to the close. Congrega- 
 tionalist. 
 
 OSCEOLA, CHIEF OF THE SEMINOLES 
 
 Illustrated. i2mo, cloth, gilt top . . . $1.50 
 
 There are no tales that interest boys more than Indian tales, and this is one 
 of the best sort, exciting and varied, yet founded on fact and life-like. N. Y. 
 Observer. 
 
 This lively and adventurous tale of the Seminole War will delight the 
 hearts of all American boys. We are glad, too, to observe that the gallant 
 author has the courage to tell the truth of the base treachery by which the 
 great chief was ultimately captured. We wish there were more books like 
 this for boys; and we cannot close without paying our compliments to the 
 publishers on the pleasing dress in which they have given it to the public. 
 Church Standard. 
 
 TECUMSEH, CHIEF OF THE SHAWANOES 
 
 i2mo, cloth, gilt top, illustrated, 312 pages . $1.50 
 
 Colonel Gordon contributes a well-written story of the famous Indian 
 chief " Tecumseh," which is an important book for every boy and girl to read 
 carefully. > It is far more than a book of entertainment, it is history told in a 
 most fascinating way and full of information. Churchman. 
 
 There is a great deal of life, action, stirring adventure in the story, with 
 much desirable historical pabulum. Buffalo Commercial. 
 
 E. P. DUTTON & CO., Publishers 
 31 West Twenty. third Street, New York 
 
GENERAL LIBRARY 
 
 
 14 DAY USE 
 
 RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED 
 
 LOAN DEPT. 
 
 This book is due on the last date stamped below, or 
 
 on the date to which renewed. 
 Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. 
 
 
 
 AUJ5 2ttpJ 
 
 
 \y&1 
 
 
 MU; 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 L ( D Hl\t^!eT U-^gKn-i. 
 
 
Y.C 
 
 M189753 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY