Scouting with Kit Carson
George Cary Eggleston
Produced by Roger Frank and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
"'Here I am, Kit! Don't shoot!'"]
Every Boy's Library--Boy Scout Edition
SCOUTING WITH KIT CARSON
BY
EVERETT T. TOMLINSON
AUTHOR OF
SCOUTING WITH DANIEL BOONE, Etc.
ILLUSTRATED BY
JOHN FROST
NEW YORK
GROSSET & DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS
Copyright, 1916, by
Doubleday, Page & Company
All rights reserved, including that oftranslation into foreign languages,including the Scandinavian
PREFACE
Perhaps it is unnecessary to explain that the purpose of the authorprimarily has been to write a story, not a biography. And yet behindthe story stands the romantic character of the great trapper, scout,guide, messenger, and soldier--Kit Carson. In every way the aim has beento portray him in a manner that should be true to his uniquepersonality and his adventurous life. There is a basis of truth for theincidents incorporated in the tale. Although exact chronology has beenimpossible, still an attempt has been made in a general way, to presentin order, various phases of Kit Carson's stirring life. The courage andtruthfulness of the famous scout, his modesty and determination, aswell as his fidelity and his friendliness are qualities of life nevermore in demand than to-day. Where can our boys and girls learn of theirvalue better than in becoming familiar with a life which, whatever itslimitations may have been, surely possessed these valuable qualities.Is it not high time, too, for young Americans to be taught that in theromance and adventure of the early days of our own country there areheroes as deserving of recognition as the semi-fabulous characters inthe early life of nations across the sea? Whatever may be taught of thelatter, surely American boys and girls ought not to be ignorant of theearly heroes of their own land.
Everett T. Tomlinson. Elizabeth, New Jersey.
CONTENTS CHAPTER I--THE CAMP ON THE PLAINS CHAPTER II--IN PURSUIT OF A HERD CHAPTER III--THREE CHEYENNES CHAPTER IV--RAT TRUE CHAPTER V--THE FAME OF THE TRAPPER CHAPTER VI--ALONE CHAPTER VII--MOUNTAIN TROUT CHAPTER VIII--AN UNEXPECTED MEETING CHAPTER IX--WOLF'S CLOTHING CHAPTER X--ATTACKED CHAPTER XI--A TRYING EXPERIENCE CHAPTER XII--A PUZZLING MESSENGER CHAPTER XIII--PURSUIT CHAPTER XIV--CAPTURED CHAPTER XV--A LONELY RIDE CHAPTER XVI--A MOUNTAIN LION CHAPTER XVII--THE COMING OF RAT CHAPTER XVIII--A FIGHT CHAPTER XIX--TRAPPED CHAPTER XX--WILD HORSES CHAPTER XXI--THE CHASE OF THE LEADER CHAPTER XXII--A WHITE MAN IN THE INDIAN VILLAGE CHAPTER XXIII--BAFFLED CHAPTER XXIV--A FRESH ATTEMPT CHAPTER XXV--THE CAPTIVE LEADER CHAPTER XXVI--THE RETURN OF RAT CHAPTER XXVII--THE THEFT CHAPTER XXVIII--THE RETURN CHAPTER XXIX--THE GREAT SCOUT AND THE GREAT EXPLORER CHAPTER XXX--CONCLUSION
ILLUSTRATIONS
"'Here I am, Kit! Don't shoot!'"
"Several Indians seated themselves before the mouth of the cave"
"The trembling boy was able to see the scout as he drew his knife"
"Instantly Kit Carson struck the treacherous redskin a blow between hiseyes with his fist"
SCOUTING WITH KIT CARSON
CHAPTER I--THE CAMP ON THE PLAINS
"I am glad we are going to stop here."
"It ees so. The boy ees mooch tired?"
"Yes, I am tired," responded Reuben Benton. "I have been in the saddlesince before sun-up. Sometimes it seems to me as if I had been ridingforever and a day."
The conversation ceased, and both men, leaping from the backs of theirtired horses, first stretched themselves and then danced about in amanner not in the least suggestive of weariness. The action, however,was not so much to express their pleasure as to give relief to thecramped muscles of their backs and legs that now were almost numb.
The ponies manifestly, too, were glad of the respite. It was a longtrail from St. Louis, or Pain Court, as the trading post frequently wascalled ninety years before this story was written, to the foothills ofthe Rocky Mountains. For many days the two weary travellers hadsteadily ridden across the arid plains. In certain places they hadforded rivers or had crossed on boats or rafts, that now were left farbehind them. Here and there along the uncertain trail they had campednear the springs that occasionally were to be found. It was a springwhich now had caused the two men to halt and to prepare their camp forthe night.
For a brief moment both men turned and looked sharply all about them.Not far away, although they were much farther than they appeared to be,the towering Rocky Mountains lifted their summits high in the air. Someof the peaks still were covered with snow, although nearly all of themat this time in the summer were bare and bleak. Gorges and canyons wereplainly visible, and the keen look which each of the riders gave themindicated that they were aware that these great defiles among the gianthills might be the hiding-places of savage beasts or of no less savageIndians. Indeed, the latter were much more to be feared, for recentlythere had been an increasing hatred of the whites manifested by all thetribes of the prairies and the mountains beyond. Not that many whitemen as yet had ventured into the wilderness, but the few that had doneso had aroused feelings of fear and anger lest the pale-faced men mightbe merely scouts for a larger body that was following them. Rumours ofbattles fought farther east between the Indians and the settlers hadmade their way somehow even across the plains. Many of the actions, aswell as the activities, of certain of the trappers and hunters, intheir occasional visits among the tribes, also had not tended to soothethe fears or allay the feelings of the suspicious redmen.
Although thoughts of such perils were in the minds of the two men whohad halted for the night, neither referred to them, nor was there anyunusual anxiety betrayed by either. The horses now were hobbled,blankets were spread on the sandy soil, and a few cooking utensils weretaken from the backs of the pack-horses, and all things were made readyspeedily for the night that was fast approaching.
The horse of Jean Badeau, the elder of the two men, would have beennoticed even by a passing stranger. Even after the long ride of the daywas ended, there still was a flash in the eyes of Proveau, as Jeancalled his horse, and splotches of foam were still flying from hismouth when he proudly tossed his head.
The horse of Reuben Benton, though its coat was not quite as sleek andits eyes betokened a greater weariness than those of his companion'smount, still was manifestly fleet and strong. Four other ponies alsowere in the little caravan, and it was not long before the burdens theycarried were removed from their backs and placed together on theground.
As soon as the contents of the packs were seen it was evident that themen were engaged in what was a not infrequent occupation in these earlydays: both men were trappers. Indeed, numerous traps tied together wereseen among the burdens carried by the patient animals. Powder and lead,two or three blankets, a few cooking utensils, and a scanty store ofprovisions comprised most of the outfit of the little train.
Of the two trappers, Jean Badeau was a man of medium height, with darkhair, and eyes piercing and black as midnight. His swarthy skin as wellas his manner of shrugging his shoulders indicated that he was French.Whether he had come from St. Louis or Montreal, or even from Franceitself, he had not explained to his companion. It was in St. Louis,however, that Reuben first had met him, and there he had agreed toaccompany Jean on his long journey to the Rockies, where they were totrap until late in the fall or early winter.
Their first plan had been to go to the upper waters of the MissouriRiver. When, however, they learned that several large trapping partieswere also planning to go to the same country, Jean decided that theiropportunities would be better and their cha
nces of success much more ifthey should leave their companions, and set their traps among the hillsor mountains farther south, where some of the smaller streams had theirrise.
Jean was about thirty-eight or forty years of age. The muscles of hisneck and shoulders indicated his great physical strength. His heavychest and long arms were silent witnesses to the power of theFrenchman.
Nor was Reuben Benton a weakling. Slightly taller than his companion,he, too, had dark hair and black eyes, but the tint of his skinindicated that it was due more to the sun and winds he had encounteredon his long journey from St. Louis than to its original colouring. Hiseyes were expressive of the kindness of his heart, and it was clearthat Reuben was not one that easily lost his temper or self-possession.Perhaps it was for this reason that Jean, whose success as a hunter andtrapper was well known, had urged the lad to accompany him. He himselfwas the possessor of neither of these two virtues. Indeed, Reuben hadtold him that "he was not so much a man who had a temper as he was aman whose temper had him."
The difficulties confronting the two men were many. The food they hadbrought was not sufficient to provide for their wants more than a fewdays, and for the greater part they must depend for supplies upon theirown skill with their rifles. However, as game was plentiful in theregion, neither was anxious concerning the outlook for their immediatefuture. They were much more fearful of the red-skinned Indians amongthe defiles of the mountains and of possible rivals whom they mightencounter in their visits to their traps.
Of all the trappers that had gone forth that year they were the onlyones who had ventured to start with only two in the party. Whether ornot they were wise in their undertaking will be better understood asthe story of their adventures is unfolded.
In a brief time after they had arrived at the spring their camp hadbeen made, brush had been gathered for a fire, the horses had beenhobbled, and Jean had taken his flint and tinder and after two quickattempts had started a fire in the dry brush. The sun was still wellabove the tops of the mountains, but darkness, when it fell, would comesuddenly.
"I'm telling you," said Jean, "that we start on Friday. That is ver'mooch onlucky."
"Why is it unlucky?" laughed Reuben, who was not greatly moved by thesuperstitious fears of his companion. "Do you think we shall havetrouble or that we shan't get any skins?"
"I fear ver' mooch the both things."
While Jean had been talking he had been preparing their simple supper.So engrossed was he in his occupation, as well as in the steady streamof talk he maintained, whether Reuben heeded his words or not, that hewas unaware of what was occurring in the vicinity of the camp. It wasplain that he had entrusted to his younger companion the guardianshipof the camp, while he himself prepared their simple evening meal.
"Look out! Look out!" suddenly shouted Reuben.
At the words of his companion Jean leaped to his feet, grasped hisrifle, which he had left upon the sand nearby, and hastily turned inthe direction indicated by Reuben. In a brief time the sight which hadaroused the younger trapper also stirred the older man.
Not far away a buffalo calf was running directly toward the camp,evidently exerting itself to the utmost of its strength. Behind it inswift pursuit were following two long, gaunt wolves.
"It is so scared," Reuben suggested, "that it probably has taken us fora herd of buffaloes."
The calf by this time had in all likelihood discovered its mistake, butwith undiminished speed it was continuing on its way directly throughthe camp.
The wolves, however, swiftly moved in a circuit outside the camp, sothat the fugitive secured a slight gain on its enemies, and in a momentwas straining every nerve to reach a large herd which now could be seenat the foot of the hills not more than two miles away.
"Why didn't you shoot, Jean?" inquired Reuben.
The trapper shook his head as he replied, "No waste powder."
"It isn't wasting powder to shoot one of those wolves!" replied Reuben."It's one of the best pieces of work you can do! Look yonder! It almostseems as if they had come up out of the ground. There's one, two,three, four, five more now that have joined the two already there."
In silence the two trappers watched the pursuit, and in a brief timethey saw that the number of wolves had increased to twenty or more.Indeed, the helpless victim was overtaken long before it could find arefuge among its fellows. The little animal fell an easy prey to itssavage pursuers and was half devoured even before it was dead.
"I wish I had shot heem," muttered Jean.
"If one of our horses had been saddled I would have helped out thelittle beggar. I wonder why it is that one always feels that he wantsthe weaker side to win?" inquired Reuben.
Jean shrugged his shoulders, but made no reply, and once more resumedhis task over the fire. Silence rested over the region, for Reuben wascaring for the horses while his friend was busy with his labours.
"I no think they fight mooch," said Jean in a low voice.
Reuben hastily glanced up at the words of his friend, as for a momentthe flight of the buffalo calf had been forgotten. Looking in thedirection indicated by Jean, he saw that four or five buffaloes hadadvanced from the herd, keeping well together, and were moving towardthe pack of wolves that still were busy over what remained of theunfortunate calf.
"Perhaps they won't," responded Reuben, "but they are going to dosomething which is almost as bad."
Both men stood silent as they watched the herd. Although the animalswere two miles distant, as has been said, in the clear air they seemedto be much nearer, and the entire herd was advancing in a body. Outfrom the ravine was coming a steadily increasing number of buffaloes.Soon the great herd, forming as if some one had been giving directionswhich they understood, began to move in such a manner that for a momentit appeared as if the prowling wolves would be surrounded. In a brieftime, however, the savage animals were aware of the threatening danger,and with incredible speed fled from the region. The advancingbuffaloes, however, did not halt when they saw their enemies disperse.Their speed steadily increased. The earth rumbled beneath the heavytread of the myriad feet, producing a sound not unlike that of distantthunder.
An exclamation of dismay or fear from Jean caused Reuben to glancehastily at his companion; and it was plain that Jean was anxious oralarmed. Not many minutes elapsed, however, before Reuben understoodthe source of his friend's excitement and was sharing in his feeling offear.
The great herd, moving now as if it was controlled by one motive, withsteadily increasing speed was directly approaching the very place whichthe trappers had selected for their camping-place.
