What could have been the foolhardy ideas of this warrior that
compelled him to take such a course as he did, not one of the party,
when they were informed of the adventure, could conjecture; but, a
fact it is, that he lost his life and his scalp by his indiscretion.
In due time the command reached the Sacramento River, and were
proceeding on the trail down that stream, when they came to a
point, not far from a deep cañon, the sides of which were almost
perpendicular and composed of cragged rocks. Fremont decided not to
pass through this deep gorge, but instead, to travel around it; and
he did so by crossing the river. It proved afterwards to be a very
fortunate change; for, their old enemies, the Tlamath Indians, had
concealed themselves there, thinking, as a matter of course, that the
white men would keep the trail. Seeing that the white men were
not coming into the ambuscade laid for them, the Indians became so
disappointed that they boldly ventured forth from their hiding-places.
A few, more daring than the rest, advanced into open ground, when
Carson, Godey, and another member of the party, made a dash at them.
They all ran except one warrior, and as the charging party were
mounted on mules, they made but poor progress in overtaking them.
The one Indian who, apparently, had resolved to make war on his own
account, concealed himself behind a rock, strung his bow, putting
several arrows in his mouth, and thus awaited the advance of his foes.
Kit Carson and Godey soon came within shooting distance, when he began
to let fly his arrows, and kept it up so briskly, that the men dodged
about, without being able to do anything else for some moments. At
last, wearying of this dangerous sport, Kit Carson dismounted, and
crept around until he obtained a good sight at the Indian; when, he
drew up his rifle, fired, and sent a bullet through his heart. From
this dead brave, Kit Carson took a beautifully wrought bow and