said, "Boys, we are going to have a feast".

On the way out Carson had taught me to call him "Uncle Kit." So I said,
"Uncle Kit, are you going to kill an Indian and cook him for supper?"

He laughed and answered, "No, Willie, not quite as bad as that. Besides,
I don't think we are hungry enough to eat an Indian, if we had one
cooked by a French cook; but what will be better, to my taste at least,
the Indians are bringing us some Buffalo meat for our supper," and sure
enough they proved to be friendly.

They were a portion of the Caw tribe, which was friendly with the whites
at that time. They had been on a hunt, and had been successful in
getting all the game they wanted. When they rode up to our camp they
surrounded Carson every one of them, trying to shake his hand first. Not
being acquainted with the ways of the Indians, the rest of us did not
understand what this meant, and we got our guns with the intention of
protecting him from danger, but seeing what we were about to do, Carson
sang out to us, "Hold on, boys. These are our friends," and as soon, as
they were done shaking hands with him Carson said something to them in a
language I did not understand, and they came and offered their hands to
shake with us. The boys and myself with the rest stood and gazed at the
performance in amazement, not knowing what to do or say. These were the
first wild Indians we boys had ever seen. As soon as the hand shaking
was over, Carson asked me to give him my knife which I carried in my
belt. He had given the knife to me when we left St. Louis. I presume
Carson had a hundred just such knives as this one was in his pack, but
he could not take the time then to get one out. For my knife he traded a
yearling Buffalo, and there was meat enough to feed his whole crew three
or four days. That was the first Indian "Pow-wow" that I had ever seen
or heard of either.

The Indians ate supper with us, and after that they danced "the Peace
Dance" after smoking the Pipe of Peace with Uncle Kit. The smoking and
dancing lasted perhaps an hour, and then the Indians mounted their
horses and sped away to their own village.

I was with Carson off and on about twelve years, but I never saw him
appear to enjoy himself better than he did that night. After the Indians
had gone, Uncle Kit imitated each one of us as he said we looked when
the Indians first appeared in sight. He had some in the act of running
and others trying to hide behind the horse,