Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1890-08-07
STORIES OF KIT CARSON.
Some of the Daring Exploits in Which the
Famous Frontiersman Figured

Christopher Carson, or kit Carson, y
as better known to the readers of Western
history was native of Kentucky and was
born at Tate's Creek, In Madison county
December "a, 1909 The fact is not gen
orally known, even among those lovers Of
romance of border history, and who wor-
shipped Kit as their ideal hero and prince
of hunters, trappers. scouts, mountaineers,
Indian fighters. etc. His father was Lind
say Carson, and is believed to have come
from Virginia originally. At the close of
the war of 1912 he removed to Howard
county, Mo-, then the very confines of civ
ilization in the Far West" There are
those still living in Madison county who
remember the family.
When young Christopher was IL years
| old he joined hunting expedition which
initiated him into border excitement and
gave him taste of the free, wild life he
! afterward lived. The vast plains of the
west had fascination for MIN, beyond all
things else. Like Daniel Boone he could
not stand the smoke of civilization. and he
despised its restraints and luxuries. For
eight years he was a trapper, and for a
similar period he was chief hunter for the
garrison at Bent's Fort. For almost the
remainder of his life he was guide, scout
and Indian fighter on the western frontier.
He acted as guide to Gen. John C. FIRE.
mont in his celebrated exploration beyond
the Rocky Mountains in 1912, l843
considered at that day one of the grandest
achievements of the time. Carson gives
the following account of a night attack of
| Klamath Indians: This was the only
night in all our travels. except the Ole
night ON an island in the Salt Lake, that
we failed to keep guard AS the men were
tired, and we expected no attack the
colonel didn' like to ask this of them, but
sat up late himself
Owens and | were sleeping together and
we were walked at the same time by the
ticks of the ak that killed our men, At
first | didn know it was that; but called
to Basil, who was on that side: What's
| the matter there? What's that fuss about?
| He never answered, for ne was dead then,
poor fellow, and he never knew what kill
ed him; MS head had been cut IN his sleep;
| the other groaned little as he died. The
| Delawares 1--WE had four with u.s. were
sleeping at that time, and they sprang up
as the Tlamaths charged them. One of
them caught up gun that was loaded,
but, although he could do no execution he
kept them at bay, gghting like soldier,
and didn t give up until he was shot full
| of arrows-three entering his heart. He
died bravely. As soon as | had called out
| saw it was Indians in the camp, and [
and Owens together cried out: Indians"
| There were no orders given; things were
them who didn' t have to be told their duty
The Colonel and l, Maxwell: Owen, Cooley
and Stepp jumped together-we six-and
ran to the assistance of our Delawares. |
don know who fred and who didn't, but
/ think it was Steps shot that killed the
Klamath chief for it was at the crack of
Stepp's gun that he fell. Hehad an En-
glish halifax strung to his waist by a cord,
and there we're forty arrows left in his
quiver-the most beautiful and war-like
arrows I ever saw: When the Tlamaths
saw him fall they ran, but we lay, every
man with his rife cooked, until daylight,
expecting another attack. In the morning
we found from the tracks that from fifteen
to twenty of the 1lamaths had attacked US.
They had killed four of our men and
wounded one of the Delawares besides one
killed., who scalped the chief, whom we
left where he fell. Our dead were carried
on mules, but after going about ten miles
we found it impossible to get them any
further through the thick timber and find
ing a secret place, we buried them under
logs and chunks, having no way to dig a
grave.
Another of Kit Carson's exciting expert
ences came to him in 1916, on the Santa
Fe trail, near the Cin3arron mountains. A
merchant, whose name was White, and
who had come from Independence, Mo-,
| was murdered by Comanche Indians, and
his wife and child and servant woman car
ried off captives. Carson happened to be
in the vicinity, and joining a company of
United States dragons under Colonel
Sumner with twenty to thirty volunteer
recruits) as their guide, started In pursuit
of the murderous savages. The discipline
of the regular army, with its red tape, was
too slow for Carson. and he pushed on alone
and at more rapid gate. At night he
came to their encampment; then by long,
hard ride turned and reported to Colonel
Sumner, who learning that the Indians
were between 300 and 400 strong, absolute
ly refused to risk the lives of his men
against such fearful odds. With a GEES
ture of contempt, Carson turned his horse,
and In clear ringing tones, cried out;
Volunteers! | want volunteers! Who
will ride with me to save white women
and children from outrage and death?.
Immediately the volunteers of Sumner S
party were by his side ready to go with
him Colonel Sumner demonstrated and
threatened to hold Carson responsible for
the lives of his men, but undeterred by
this, the brave and heroic man and his
comrades dashed away in the darkness,
and after an almost unprecedented ride
come up with the savages. They were
discovered, however before they were
ready to attack, and so after all their heroic
exertions the savages murdered Mrs. White |
and escaped with the child and servant
woman who were not rescued until nearly
year later.
The many deeds of this gallant Ken
tuckyian would make up an interesting
volume. No Drawer man ever lived; no
more generous heart ev,r beat in any
man bosom. No call of distress was ever
passed unheeded; suffering female inno-
cence never fail to find in him staunch and
earnest companion.
Carson entered the Federal army during
the late civil war, and rose to the rank of
Brigadier General. and in 1865 resumed
his position as Indian agent in New Mex
leo, which position he held a number of
years before the war. He was one of the
pioneer wool growers of the Pacific slope. |
and in 1858 drove across the plains $500
sheep, an enterprise at that time hazard
Gus in the extreme. He died in 1868, in
his 59th year. -Courier-J ournal
London in 1916.
Laurence Hutton, in Harpers Weekly
The ancieut rhymester who met his sis
I IL