en
them and the comfortable firesides at Rayado. But these miles, Kit
Carson has often said, were the shortest he ever traveled. The way
was beguiled by many a recollection in which every man present could
participate with a relish, keen as disuse alone can render the palate
of enjoyment. In a short time the well-remembered waters of the South
Fork of the River Platte were descried. Their practised eyes soon
discovered the oft-noted "signs of the beaver." The camp was formed
and the traps set. The beaver, so long left to mind their
own business, had increased in great numbers. The hunt proved
correspondingly successful. The party continued working down this
stream through the plains of Laramie to the New Park; and from thence,
on to the Old Park. We cannot follow them through this long and
enlivening hunt. They trapped a large number of their old streams
until, finally, the expedition was terminated on the Arkansas River.
Throughout the whole course the hunt proved to be very successful.
With a large stock of furs they returned in safety to Rayado, via the
Raton Mountains, which are spurs of the great Rocky chain.

The fact that most of the old trappers had given up their vocation
furnishes the reason why the beaver were found, along the entire
route, to be so plentiful. We desire that the reader shall paint for
himself the enjoyment which these men gathered in this renewal of a
pursuit rendered congenial by the experience of long years of activity
in following it. It has been our purpose to enable the reader to
gather a spark of this same enjoyment by the endeavor to make of him
an amateur trapper. He has followed Kit Carson throughout the trapping
expeditions of his earlier life. It is to be supposed that with Kit he
has acquired some experience. With Kit therefore he shall now receive
his final polishing, and if he does not in the end catch a beaver,
he shall at least learn how they are caught, and all the necessary
minutiae of toil which he must expect to encounter and undergo.

On striking any river, when on the hunt, the trappers are accustomed
to keep a bright lookout for signs, often heretofore referred to. The
word "signs" conveys but a vague idea of its all-important meaning, as
it was received by the trappers. The news of the presence of "signs"
sent a thrill of joy through the hunters of the olden time only
equalled on board of whale-ships when the man at the lookout cries
"_there she blows_". It rarely ha