The encampment of the party on the 4th of July, was a few miles from where the road crosses over to the north fork of the Platte, where a grand dinner was prepared, toasts drank, and salutes fired; and it was here Fremont decided to divide his party, wishing, himself, to explore the south fork of the Platte, as far as St. Vrain's Fort; and taking with him Maxwell and two others of his men, and the Cheyenne Indians, whose village was upon this river, he left the rest of the party to proceed under the direction of Clement Lambert up the north fork to Fort Laramie, where they were to wait his arrival, as he intended to cross the country between the two forts.

Buffalo were still plenty upon Fremont's route, and the Indians with him made an unsuccessful attempt to lasso the leader of a drove of wild horses, which they passed. They met a band of two or three hundred Arapahoe Indians, and were only saved from an attack by Maxwell, who secured a timely recognition from the old chief who led the party, which proved to be from a village among whom he had resided as a trader, and whose camp the chief pointed out to them some six miles distant. They had come out to surround a band of buffalo which was feeding across the river, and were making a large circuit to avoid giving them the wind, when they discovered Fremont's party, whom they had mistaken for Pawnees. In a few minutes the women came galloping up, astride of their horses, and naked from their knees down, and the hips up. They followed the men to assist in cutting up and carrying off the meat.

The wind was blowing directly across the river, and the chief having requested Fremont to remain where he then was, to avoid raising the herd, he readily consented, and having unsaddled their horses, they sat down to view the scene. The day had become very hot, the thermometer standing at 108°. The Indians commenced crossing the river, and as soon as they were upon the other side, separated into two bodies.

Fremont thus describes this exciting hunt, or massacre, as the reader may choose to designate it,—and his subsequent visit to the Arapahoe village:

"One party proceeded directly across the prairie, towards the hills, in an extended line, while the other went up the river; and instantly, as they had given the wind to the herd, the chase commenced. The buffalo started for the hills, but were intercepted and driven back toward the river, broken and running in every direction. The clouds of dust soon covered the whole scene, preventing us from having any but an occasional view. It had a very singular appearance to us at a distance, especially when looking with the glass.

"We were too far to hear the report of the guns, or any sound, and at every instant, through the clouds of dust, which the sun made luminous, we could see for a moment two or three buffalo dashing along, and close behind them an Indian with his long spear, or other weapon, and instantly again they disappeared. The apparent silence, and the dimly seen figures flitting by with such rapidity, gave it a kind of dreamy effect, and seemed more like a picture than a scene of real life.

"It had been a large herd when the cerne commenced, probably three or four hundred in number; but though I watched them closely, I did not see one emerge from the fatal cloud where the work of destruction was going on. After remaining here about an hour, we resumed our journey in the direction of the village.

"Gradually, as we rode on, Indian after Indian came dropping along, laden with meat; and by the time we had reached the lodges, the backward road was covered with the returning horsemen. It was a pleasant contrast with the desert road we had been traveling. Several had joined company with us, and one of the chiefs invited us to his lodge.

"The village consisted of about one hundred and twenty-five lodges, of which twenty were Cheyennes; the latter pitched a little apart from the Arapahoes. They were disposed in a scattering manner on both sides of a broad, irregular street, about one hundred and fifty feet wide, and running along the river. As we rode along, I remarked near some of the lodges a kind of tripod frame, formed of three slender poles of birch, scraped very clean, to which were affixed the shield and spear, with some other weapons of a chief. All were scrupulously clean, the spear head was burnished bright, and the shield white and stainless. It reminded me of the days of feudal chivalry; and when, as I rode by, I yielded to the passing impulse, and touched one of the spotless shields with the muzzle of my gun, I almost expected a grim warrior to start from the lodge and resent my challenge.

"The master of the lodge spread out a robe for me to sit upon, and the squaws set before us a large wooden dish of buffalo meat. He had lit his pipe in the meanwhile, and when it had been passed around, we commenced our dinner while he continued to smoke. Gradually, five or six other chiefs came in, and took their seats in silence. When we had finished, our host asked a number of questions relative to the object of our journey, of which I made no concealment; telling him simply that I had made a visit to see the country, preparatory to the establishment of military posts on the way to the mountains.

"Although this was information of the highest interest to them, and by no means calculated to please them, it excited no expression of surprise, and in no way altered the grave courtesy of their demeanor. The others listened and smoked. I remarked, that in taking the pipe for the first time, each had turned the stem upward, with a rapid glance, as in offering to the Great Spirit, before he put it in his mouth."

Riding near the river, Fremont and Maxwell had an interview with Jim Beckwith, who had been chief of the Crow Indians, but had left them some time before, and was now residing in this river bottom, with his wife, a Spanish woman from Taos. They also passed a camp of four or five New Englanders, with Indian wives—a party of independent trappers, and reached St. Vrain's Fort on the evening of July 10th, where they were hospitably entertained by Mr. St. Vrain, and received from him such needed assistance as he was able to render. Maxwell was at home here, as he had spent the last two or three years between the fort and Taos.

On the evening of the fifteenth, they arrived at Fort Laramie, a post of the American Fur Company, near the junction of the Laramie Creek with the Platte River, which had quite a military appearance, with its lofty walls whitewashed and picketed, and large bastions at the angles. A cluster of lodges belonging to the Sioux Indians was pitched under the walls. He was received with great hospitality by the gentleman in charge of the fort, Mr. Boudeau, having letters of introduction to him from the company at St. Louis, and it is hardly necessary to say that he was hospitably received and most kindly treated. He found Carson with the party under his command camped on the bank near the fort, by whom they were most warmly welcomed, and in the enjoyment of a bountiful supper, which coffee and bread converted almost into a luxury, they forgot the toils and sufferings of the past ten days.

The news brought by Mr. Preuss, who it will be remembered was with Carson's party, was as exciting as it was unpleasant. He had learned that the Sioux who had been badly disposed, had now broken out into open hostility, and his informant, a well known trapper, named Bridger, had been attacked by them, and had only defeated them after serious losses on both sides. United with the Cheyennes and Gros Ventre Indians, they were scouring the country in war parties, declaring war upon every living thing which should pass the Red Buttes; their special hostility being, however, directed against the white men. In fact the country was swarming with hostile Indians, and it was but too evident that any party who should attempt to enter upon the forbidden grounds, must do so at the certain hazard of their lives. Of course such intelligence created great commotion throughout the camp, and it formed the sole subject of conversation and discussion during the evenings around the camp fires.

Speaking of this report, and the effect produced upon his men, Fremont uses the following language:

"Carson, one of the best and most experienced mountaineers, fully supported the opinion given by Bridger of the dangerous state of the country, and openly expressed his conviction that we could not escape without some sharp encounters with the Indians. In addition to this, he made his will; and among the circumstances which were constantly occurring to increase their alarm, this was the most unfortunate; and I found that a number of my party had become so much intimidated that they had requested to be discharged at this place."

Carson's apprehensions were fully justified by the circumstances surrounding them; and while we might have omitted the above quotation, as tending to exhibit him in a false light, doubtless unintentionally, we choose rather to say a few words which will rob the insinuation of its sting.

While there was reason to expect an encounter with Indians, in whom it was reported the spirit of revenge was cherished towards the whites, more than ever it had been before, and whom numbers and acquisition of fire-arms rendered really formidable foes, he felt that the party with whom he was now associated, were not the men upon whom he could rely with certainty in an engagement against such terrible odds. In the days of his earlier experiences, the old trappers with him were men who had as little fear as himself, and were also experienced in such little affairs, for such they considered them. Now, except Maxwell, an old associate, and two or three others, the men of the party were half paralyzed with fear at the prospect which this report presented to them; and it was the knowledge of their fear, which they made no attempt to conceal, which excited in his mind apprehensions for the worst, for he did not choose to guide others into danger recklessly, even if he had no care for himself.

Headlong rashness, which some might mistake for courage, was not a trait of his character; but the voice of a whole country accords to him cool bravery, presence of mind, and courage to meet whatever danger forethought could not guard against. With a party of men like those he had led several times against the Blackfeet, nothing could have persuaded him to turn back from any enterprise which he had undertaken, from a fear of hostile Indians. Of course he could not state his reason for his apprehensions even to his employer, because it would reflect upon his ability to arrange for such an enterprise, or his courage to conduct it to a successful termination, neither of which he could doubt; and it is therefore with something of regret we read in an official report, emanating from one who owed more to Kit Carson, of the fame and reputation so justly earned, than to any other living man, the assertion that Carson, stimulated by fear, made his will. The best contradiction which can be afforded, is found in the fact, that notwithstanding his apprehensions, he did accompany the party, discharging with his usual zeal, ability, and fidelity, the duties which devolved upon him; and we have yet to learn that Kit Carson ever shrunk from any danger.

His reputation has, however, outlived this covert insinuation, and we presume that no man on this continent would hesitate to award to Kit Carson, the highest attributes of moral and physical courage.

"During our stay here," says Fremont in continuation, "the men had been engaged in making numerous repairs, arranging pack-saddles, and otherwise preparing for the chances of a rough road, and mountain travel, all of which Carson had superintended, urging upon the men that their comfort and their safety required it. All things of this nature being ready, I gathered them around me in the evening, and told them that 'I had determined to proceed the next day. They were all well armed. I had engaged the services of Mr. Bissonette as interpreter, and had taken, in the circumstances, every possible means to insure our safety. In the rumors we had heard, I believed there was much exaggeration, and then they were men accustomed to this kind of life, and to the country; and that these were the dangers of every day occurrence, and to be expected in the ordinary course of their service. They had heard of the unsettled condition of the country before leaving St. Louis, and therefore could not make it a reason for breaking their engagements. Still, I was unwilling to take with me, on a service of some certain danger, men on whom I could not rely; and as I had understood that there were among them some who were disposed to cowardice, and anxious to return, they had but to come forward at once, and state their desire, and they would be discharged with the amount due to them for the time they had served.' To their honor, be it said, there was but one among them who had the face to come forward and avail himself of the permission. I asked him some few questions, in order to expose him to the ridicule of the men, and let him go. The day after our departure, he engaged himself to one of the forts, and set off with a party to the Upper Missouri."