Part 14 (2/2)
The camp was encircled by three concentric rows of sentinels. They were mounted, and rode incessantly to and fro, through their short patrols.
Night came. It was dark. Carson and Beale crept out from the camp, on their hands and feet, feeling for the tall gra.s.s, the slight depressions in the ground, the shade of the thickets. They had shoes instead of moccasins. As they crept along foot by foot in breathless silence, the stiff soles of the shoes would sometimes. .h.i.t a stone or a stick, and make a slight noise. They drew off their shoes and pushed them under their belts. Occasionally they were within a few feet of the sentinels, whom they could dimly discern.
They had pa.s.sed the first line of sentinels, and the second, and were just beginning to breathe a little more freely when a sentinel rode up to within a few feet of the spot where they were lying still as death, and but slightly concealed in the tall gra.s.s. By daylight they would have been instantly seen. To their terror the sentinel was mounted, and alighting with flint and steel began to strike a light to indulge in the comfort of his pipe. The flame of a piece of paper would reveal them. The suspense was terrible. So still did they lie and so intense were their inward throbbings that Mr. Carson afterwards affirmed that he could actually hear Lieutenant Beale's heart pulsate.
Providentially the Mexican lighted his pipe, and remounting rode in the other direction. For a distance of nearly two miles Carson and Beale thus crept along, working their way through the Mexican lines. Having left the last sentinel behind them, they regained their feet and felt for their shoes. They were gone. Thus far they had not interchanged even a whisper.
Though the worst peril was now over, they had still many dangers to encounter, and fearful suffering. It would not do to advance upon San Diego by any of the well-trodden trails, all of which were closely watched by the enemy's scouts. Carson chose a circuitous route over rocks and hills, where their feet were dreadfully lacerated by the p.r.i.c.kly pear.
All the next day, with feet torn and bleeding, they toiled along, feeding upon whatever they could find, which would in the slightest degree appease the gnawings of hunger. Another night spread its gloom around them. Still onward was the march of our heroes. About midnight, Carson discovered, from a slight eminence, the dim outline of the houses in San Diego. They approached the American sentinels, announced themselves as friends, and were conducted to Commodore Stockton. He immediately dispatched one hundred and seventy men with a heavy piece of ordnance, and with directions to march day and night, for the relief of Kearney.
The Mexicans hearing of their approach, knowing that they would be attacked both in front and rear, fled. Kearney and his army were saved.
Carson and Beale had rescued them.
The main army of the Mexicans was now at Los Angelos, about a hundred and twenty miles north from San Diego. They had a strongly intrenched camp there; garrisoned by about seven hundred men. Kearney and Fremont united their forces to attack them. Carson was again with his friend Fremont. The Mexicans were driven away, and the American army took up its winter quarters during two or three cold and dreary months.
In the month of March, 1847, Mr. Carson was directed to carry important dispatches to Was.h.i.+ngton. Lieutenant Beale, who never recovered from the hards.h.i.+ps he encountered in his flight to San Diego, was permitted to accompany him. As we have mentioned, it was a journey of four thousand miles. It was accomplished in three months. In reference to this adventure Mr. Carson writes:
”Lieutenant Beale went with me as bearer of dispatches, intended for the Navy Department. During the first twenty days of our journey he was so weak that I had to lift him on and off his riding animal. I did not think for some time that he could live, but I bestowed as much care and attention on him as any one could have done, under the circ.u.mstances.
Before the fatiguing and dangerous part of our route was pa.s.sed over, he had so far recovered as to be able to take care of himself.
”For my attention, which was only my duty to my friend, I was doubly repaid, by the kindness shown to me by his family while I staid in Was.h.i.+ngton, which was more than I had any reason for expecting, and which will never be forgotten by me.”
On this expedition, Kit Carson was provided with a guard of ten or twelve picked men, veteran mountaineers. They took an extremely southern route.
Having journeyed about four hundred miles without meeting any hostile encounter, they reached the Gila, a tributary of the lower Colorado. Here Mr. Carson had evidence that a band of hostile Indians, keeping always out of sight, were d.o.g.g.i.ng his path, watching for an opportunity to attack him by surprise. Their route led over a vast prairie, where there were no natural defences. They cooked their supper early in the evening, and wrapped in their blankets, threw themselves on the gra.s.s for sleep. Mr.
Carson, aware that the cunning Indians might be, watching all his movements, as soon as it was dark, ordered his men to rise, march forward in the darkness more than a mile, again to picket their animals, and then to arrange their pack-saddles so as to protect them from the arrows of the Indians. In case of an attack they were to lie perfectly still, and not speak a word. It would be of no use to fire, for no savage would be within sight. If the Indians ventured into the camp, they were then, with rifle, and revolver and knife, to a.s.sail them with the utmost desperation.
At midnight the yell of the savage was heard, and a shower of arrows fell around. They had not ascertained with accuracy the position of the travellers. They dared not approach near enough to see, for in that case they could be seen, and the bullet would certainly strike them. After many random shots, and many unearthly yells, the discomfited savages fled. They dared not await the dawn of the day, when upon the open prairie, their arrows would be powerless weapons against rifles. In all these journeyings, Mr. Carson was so cautious that one not acquainted with his well balanced character, might deem him wanting in courage. Not a tree, a rock, a bush, or any other place where an Indian might hide, escaped his notice. His eye was ever scanning the horizon to see if there were any smoke indicating an Indian's fire, or any flight of crows hovering over a spot where Indians had recently encamped. The ground he was ever watching in search of the pressure of the horse's unshod foot, or of the Indian's moccasin.
Colonel Fremont had married the daughter of Missouri's ill.u.s.trious Senator, Hon. Thomas H. Benton. Mr. Carson, upon his arrival at St. Louis, was taken immediately to Mr. Benton's home, where he was treated with every attention, and where he enjoyed the pleasure of an introduction to the most distinguished men of the city. As in the continuance of his journey he stepped upon the platform of the depot in Was.h.i.+ngton, Mrs.
Fremont was there, with her carriage, to convey him as a guest to her residence.
In the crowd landing from the cars, Mrs. Fremont recognized him at once, from the description which her husband had given. Mr. Carson remained in Was.h.i.+ngton for several weeks, greatly interested in the entirely new world which was open to him there. His reputation had gone before him, and the very best men in our land honored themselves in honoring Christopher Carson. President Polk appointed him Lieutenant in the United States Rifle Corps. He was then directed to return immediately across the continent as bearer of important dispatches.
Arriving at Fort Leavenworth, in Kansas, he was there furnished with an escort of fifty soldiers to accompany him across the plain. He reached the eastern declivity of the Rocky mountains without important adventure.
Here, at a place called Point of Rocks, he overtook a party of United States Volunteers, under command of Lieutenant Mulony. They were escorting a large train of wagons to New Mexico. They encamped not far from each other. Just before the break of day a band of Comanche Indians made an attack upon the cattle of Mulony's party, and got possession of all the oxen and of twenty-six horses.
Mr. Carson, ever on the alert, heard the tumult, and made a sudden and impetuous charge upon the savages. He recovered all the oxen, but the horses were effectually stampeded and lost. But for Mr. Carson, the cattle also would have fallen into the hands of the Indians, which would have been a great calamity. The next day Mr. Carson resumed his rapid march and reached Santa Fe in safety. Here he left his escort in accordance with orders, and hiring sixteen mountaineers, he proceeded on his journey.
Travelling rapidly, he came to Muddy Creek, a tributary of Virgin river.
Here he suddenly encountered a camp of three hundred Indians. He knew their reputation as treacherous in the extreme. He threw up a little rampart, forbidding the Indians to draw too near, and then held a parley under the protection of his men. Thoroughly acquainted with the Indian character, he seemed always to know the tone which it was best to a.s.sume.
Sternly addressing the chiefs, he said:
”I know your treachery. Your words of friends.h.i.+p cannot be believed. Not long ago, you ma.s.sacred seven Americans. You wish to gain admission to my camp that you may kill us also. I will now allow you till midday to be off. If any of you, after that, are within reach of our rifles you will die.”
Most of the Indians were overawed by this bold talk, and disappeared. A few of the more desperate of the warriors lounged about, apparently doubting his words. At the designated hour he ordered his men to take good aim and fire. Though the Indians were at quite a distance, one of the warriors fell instantly dead. Four others were severely wounded. Soon not a savage was to be seen. Thus fifteen men under Carson, vanquished three hundred Indians. ”Better,” said Napoleon, ”is an army of deer led by a lion, than an army of lions led by a deer.”
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