mountaineers, the Indians would not make a short trail after acquiring
so much booty. The horse which Fuentes rode, most unfortunately, gave
out after a short ride. There was no time to be lost and no means at
hand to supply this important deficiency. To turn back to camp would
supply it, but that course would also lose them their game. Fuentes,
therefore, was requested to return to Fremont's camp, and there await
the return of Kit Carson and Godey. These two had been the only men
in the entire command who had volunteered in this chase. The loss of
Fuentes therefore made their task literally a Don Quixotic adventure.
Two men against thirty. But Kit Carson was not the man to turn his
back upon an adventure as soon as the difficulties began to present
themselves. He well knew that he had one man on whom he could rely.
Richard Godey was his tried and trusty friend, his kindred spirit and
a noble hearted man. Leaving the Mexican to find his way back to camp,
a distance of about twenty miles, they gave him their word that they
would finish the business. The following night was very dark, and in
order to keep on the right scent Carson and Godey were obliged to
lead their horses and frequently to follow the trail by the sense of
feeling. It was seldom, however, that they lost the path, and never
for more than a few moments at a time. Gradually the signs grew
fresher as they advanced, which gave them the assurance that they were
rapidly gaining on the pursuit. Finally, they concluded that only
a few hours separated them from the savages. Having accomplished a
considerable part of their journey during the night, and finding that
both themselves and their horses required rest, they concluded to
halt. Having unsaddled their animals and turned them out to graze,
they wrapped themselves up in their wet blankets and laid down to
sleep. The weather, however, was too cold to permit sleeping in
comfort without a fire. That they dare not make, fearing it would
prove a warning signal to the savages. Having worried through the