id the same. This
was the solemn pledge that there should be no treachery.

The council then commenced. Several of the Indian warriors made long and
wordy speeches, with many protestations of friendship, but carefully
avoiding any offer to restore the stolen animals. Mr. Carson listened
patiently and made no response, until they had talked themselves out. He
then simply replied, that he was very happy to learn that the Indians were
friendly in their feelings toward the whites, and that the taking of the
animals was a mistake. The trappers would therefore overlook the affair,
and peacefully return home with the restored horses.

The Indian orators again began to chatter, branching off upon various
points irrelevant to the question at issue. But Mr. Carson was in no mood
to be drawn into a profitless palaver. To these eloquent speeches he made
no response, but simply demanded the return of the horses.

The Indians began to bluster, to talk loud and to grow insolent. But Mr.
Carson never allowed himself to lose his temper. A man in a passion seldom
acts wisely. With calm persistence he said, "I can listen to no overtures
of peace, until our horses are restored." Still the Indians hesitated to
provoke a battle in which some of their warriors would undoubtedly fall.
At length they sent out and brought in five of the poorest and most
exhausted of the horses, saying that these were all that they could or
would restore.

The trappers accepted this as a declaration of war. In a body they retired
to seize their rifles and to submit the question to the arbitrament of
battle. The savages also, with tumultuous howlings, rushed to grasp their
guns. The battle immediately commenced, each party seeking the shelter of
trees. But for the dread in which the savages stood of the powers of the
white men, the advantages would have been in their favor ten to one. There
were unerring marksmen on both sides. No one could expose himself to the
aim of either party without almost certain death. Kit Carson and one of
his companions, by the name of Markhead, were the foremost of the band of
trappers, and they stood behind trees not far from each other. As Carson
was watching the movements of a burly savage, who was endeavoring to get a
shot at him, he saw another savage taking deliberate aim, from his
concealment, at Markhead.

With the rapidity of thought Carson wheeled around, and at the same
instant the bullet from his rifle pierced the heart