recounted to their friends the details of the fight was temporarily
dispelled; and, while thus engaged, the command moved on about two
miles from the Indian village. Having here selected a site, they
went into camp. After comfortably stowing themselves away in this
resting-place, another "war talk" was called, and what was best to be
done was canvassed over. After the adjournment of the council,
Fremont decided to send back twenty men, under Richard Owens, to the
neighborhood of the ruins of the village, there to conceal themselves
and await the return of the Indians; who, it was thought, might come
back to look after their dead. He did so; and Owens had not been
secreted a great while before about fifty savages returned, and, by
the moon's light, were quite visible. As had been previously agreed
upon, word was sent by a trusty messenger to Fremont, who, with six
companions, Kit Carson being of the number, hastened on horseback
to join his outpost. For fear of being discovered, Fremont chose a
different route from the one taken by Owens, which was quite
direct, while that of the former was circuitous. On approaching the
smouldering remains of the village, Kit Carson discovered only one
Indian wandering about on the ground. As soon almost as he was seen by
the party, they made a dash at him. Kit Carson was in the advance, and
on arriving within about ten feet of the warrior, he drew up his
horse and brought his rifle to his shoulder to fire, but the gun only
snapped, and left its owner in a very precarious situation, as the red
man had already drawn the string of his bow to plant an arrow in the
body of his adversary. A moment more and, in all probability, Kit
Carson would have been breathing his last. Fremont saw the danger his
friend was in, although Kit had tried to avoid the arrow by throwing
himself on one side of his horse. With much forethought, as well as
personal exposure, he plunged the rowels of his spurs deep into his
riding animal. The noble horse, obeying the impetus thus given by his