most treeless intervening plains. The
route led along the river valleys, following the windings of streams, and
conducting to fords near their head waters. Sometimes they came to swampy
regions, sometimes to deep gulleys, sometimes to desert plains. But
throughout all this wide expanse there were no mountain ranges to obstruct
their path.

It was in the spring of the year 1842, that Mr. Carson, as a gentleman
passenger, joined one of these caravans. The little daughter, of whom we
have spoken, was then six or seven years of age. It was one object of his
journey to place her at school, at St. Louis, where she could enjoy the
advantages of a refined and Christian education. We have no record of the
incidents of this journey, which was probably uneventful. The old Indian
trail had become quite a passable road for wagons.

CHAPTER X.

Fremont's Expedition.

Carson's Visit to his Childhood's Home.--On the
Steamer.--Introduction to Fremont.--Object of Fremont's
Expedition.--Joins the Expedition.--Organization of the
Party.--The Encampment.--Enchanting View.--Fording the
Kansas.--The Stormy Night.--The Boys on Guard.--The Alarm.--The
Returning Trappers.--The Homeless Adventurer.--Three Indians Join
the Party.--First Sight of the Buffaloes.--The Chase.

When the caravan, with which Kit Carson travelled as a passenger from Fort
Bent, arrived within the boundaries of Missouri, he left his companions
and, with his little daughter, turned aside to visit the home of his
childhood. He had, as we have mentioned, been absent from that home for
sixteen years. Time, death, and the progress of civilization had wrought,
in that region, what seemed to him fearful ravages. One of his biographers
writes:

"The scenes of his boyhood days he found to be magically changed. New
faces met him on all sides. The old log cabin where his father and mother
had resided, was deserted and its dilapidated walls were crumbling with
decay. The once happy inmates were scattered over the face of the earth,
while many of their voices were hushed in death. Kit Carson felt himself a
stranger in a strange land. The strong man wept. His soul could not brook
either the change or the ways of the people. While he failed not to
receive kindness and hospitality from the noble hearted Missourians,
nevertheless he had fully allayed his curiosity and, as soon as possible,
he bade adieu to these unpleasant recollections.

"He ben