We quote now from the closing part of Mr. Carvalho's narrative:

"At last we are drawn to the necessity of killing our brave horses for food. To-day the first sacrifice was made. It was with us all a solemn event, rendered far more solemn however by the impressive scene which followed. Col. Fremont came out to us, and after referring to the dreadful necessities to which his men had been reduced on a previous expedition, of eating each other, he begged us to swear that in no extremity of hunger, would any of his men lift his hand against, or attempt to prey upon a comrade; sooner let him die with them than live upon them. They all promptly took the oath, and threatened to shoot the first one that hinted or proposed such a thing.

"It was a most impressive scene, to witness twenty-two men on a snowy mountain, with bare heads, and hands and eyes upraised to heaven, uttering the solemn vow, 'So help me God!'—and the valley echoed, 'So help me God!' I never, until that moment, realized the awful situation in which I was placed. I remembered the words of the Psalmist, and felt perfectly assured of my final safety. They wandered in the wilderness in a solitary way; they found no city to dwell in. Hungry and thirsty their soul fainteth within them, and they cried unto the Lord in their trouble, and he delivered them out of their distresses.

"When an animal gave out, he was shot down by the Indians, who immediately cut his throat, and saved all the blood in our camp kettle. This animal was divided into twenty-two-parts. Two parts for Col. Fremont and his cook, ten parts for the white camp, and ten parts for the Indians. Col. Fremont hitherto messed with his officers; at this time he requested that they would excuse him, as it gave him pain, and called to mind the horrible scenes which had been enacted during his last expedition—he could not see his officers obliged to partake of such disgusting food.

"The rule he adopted was that one animal should serve for six meals for the whole party. If one gave out in the meantime, of course it was an exception; but otherwise, on no consideration was an animal to be slaughtered, for every one that was killed, placed a man on foot, and limited our chances of escape from our present situation. If the men chose to eat up their six meals all in one day, they would have to go without until the time arrived for killing another. It frequently happened that the white camp was without food from twenty-four to thirty-six hours, while Col. Fremont and the Delawares always had a meal. The latter religiously abstained from encroaching on the portion allotted for another meal, while many men of our camp, I may say all of them, not content with their portion, would, to satisfy the cravings of hunger, surreptitiously purloin from their pile of meat, at different times, sundry pieces, thus depriving themselves of each other's allowance. My own sense of right was so subdued by the sufferings I endured by hunger, and walking almost barefooted through the snow, that while going to guard one night, I stole a piece of frozen horse liver, ate it raw, and thought it, at the time, the most delicious morsel I ever tasted.

"The entrails of the horse were 'well shaken' (for we had no water to wash them in) and boiled with snow, producing a highly flavored soup, which the men considered so valuable and delicious that they forbade the cook to skim the pot for fear any portion of it might be lost. The hide was divided into equal portions, and with the bones roasted and burnt to a crisp. This we munched on the road; but the men not being satisfied with the division of the meat by the cook, made him turn his back, while another took up each share separately, and enquired who should have it. When the snows admitted it, we collected the thick leaves of a species of cactus which we also put in the fire to burn off the prickles, and ate. It then resembled in taste and nourishment an Irish potato peeling. We lived in this way for nearly fifty days, traveling from Grand River across the divide to Green River, and over the first range of the Wahsach Mountains, on foot, Col. Fremont at our head, tramping a pathway for his men to follow. He, as well as the rest of the party, towards the last was entirely barefoot—some of them had a piece of raw hide on their feet, which, however, becoming hard and stiff by the frost, made them more uncomfortable than walking without any.

"Yesterday, Mr. Oliver Fuller, of St. Louis, who had been on foot for some weeks, suddenly gave out. Our engineers and myself were with him. He found himself unable to proceed—the snow was very deep, and his feet were badly frozen. He insisted that we should leave him, and hasten to camp for relief; not being able to render him any assistance by remaining, we wrapped his blankets around him and left him on the trail. In vain we searched for material to build him a fire—nothing was visible but a wild waste of snow; we were also badly crippled, and we did not arrive in camp until ten o'clock at night, at which time it began snowing furiously. We told Col. Fremont of Mr. Fuller's situation, when he sent a Mexican named Frank, with the two best animals and cooked horsemeat, to bring Mr. Fuller in. There was not a dry eye in the whole camp that night—the men sat up anxiously awaiting the return of our companions.

"At daylight, they being still out, Col. Fremont sent three Delawares mounted, to look for them. About ten o'clock one of them returned with the Mexican and two mules. Frank was badly frozen, he had lost the track, and bewildered and cold, he sank down holding on to the animals, where he was found by the Delaware during the afternoon. The two Delawares supporting Mr. Fuller were seen approaching. He was found awake, but almost dead from the cold and faintness. Col. Fremont personally rendered him all the assistance in his power. So did all of us—for he was beloved and respected by the whole camp for his gentlemanly behavior and his many virtues. Col. Fremont remained at this dreary place near three days, to allow poor Fuller time to recruit—and afterwards assigned to him the best mule to carry him, while two of the men walked on either side to support him. A portion of our scanty food was appropriated at every meal from each man's portion to make Mr. Fuller's larger, as he required sustenance more than they did.

"On the 7th February, almost in sight of succor, the Almighty took him to himself: he died on horseback—his two companions wrapped him in his India rubber blanket and laid him across the trail. We arrived next day at Parawan. After the men had rested a little, we went in company with three or four of the inhabitants of Parawan, to bury our deceased friend. His remains had not been disturbed during our absence."

In the month of February, and soon after Fremont's arrival and departure, Col. Beale again solicited Carson to be his guide while he paid a visit to a large village of Indians congregated on the Arkansas, for the purpose of carrying out a stipulation of the treaty with Mexico, that the captives the Indians retained in the territory ceded to the United States, should be returned to Mexico. He found four tribes congregated, to the number of two thousand, for the purpose of meeting their agent, an experienced mountaineer, who informed Col. Beale that it would be useless to attempt to enforce the provisions of the treaty here, especially when so many Indians were together, and succeeded in persuading him to desist from the use of force against them.

These Indians had been accustomed to dealing with poorly clad Mexican soldiers, and the sight and bearing of Col. Beale and Carson and the men under their command, must have induced a respect for the government they represented, so that they did not consider the expedition as without good result.

The Camanche Indians could not well have been induced to fulfill the provisions of the treaty with Mexico, especially as they were not a party to it, for in the very many years past, it had been their custom to make incursions upon the Mexican settlements and parties of travelers, and to capture their cattle and take their goods, besides bringing away as many children as possible, in order that the girls procured in this way should, when grown, marry the braves of the tribe; till now at least a third of the blood of the tribe was Mexican. This amalgamation had become more extensive in this than in any of the other New Mexican tribes.

The Apache is smaller in stature and more closely built than the Camanche; less skilled in horsemanship, but equally brave, with beautiful symmetry of form, and "muscles as hard as iron," with an elasticity of movement that shows a great amount of physical training, and an eye that reveals the treachery of their character.