truth and immediately made a rush upon him. A most desperate fight
ensued, for William New, even thus defenceless, was not one who
would yield up his life without a struggle. He made almost superhuman
efforts to effect his escape, using the rifle as a club; wound after
wound was given him in rapid succession in return for the desperate
blows which he dealt with the rifle. His efforts, however, proved
futile. Gradually the red blood was gathered from his body and drank
up by the soil to which he looked for the sustenance of himself and
family, until finally, he sank upon the ground fainting from its loss,
literally covered from head to foot with frightful wounds. Thus died
one more of the sparse race of original mountaineers, now fast passing
away, bravely meeting the fate that has hitherto usually awaited this
band of fearless men.

We again turn to the adventures of Kit Carson. On the fifth day of
May, 1850, accompanied by an old mountaineer named Timothy Goodel,
he started with fifty head of mules and horses for Fort Laramie. This
fort is distant from Rayado, over five hundred miles. The object which
the two men had in view was to trade their animals with the emigrants
who were, at that time, thronging the overland route to California.
The journey was safely accomplished, Kit Carson and Goodel arriving
at the fort, with their animals all in good condition, sometime in the
following June. They remained here about one month disposing of their
animals at good bargains.

A few rather amusing anecdotes have had their rise connected with
this visit which Kit Carson made to Fort Laramie. Among several other
incidents the following is somewhat laughable and seems to us worth
relating. Among the line of emigrants then on the road, the report was
circulated for some distance back that the famous Kit Carson was at