pursue the murderers, and rescue
the lady if possible. Kit Carson proffered his services for the
expedition. The first object was to find the trail. They soon reached the
place where the crime had been committed. The ground was strewn with
boxes, trunks and pieces of harness, etc., which the savages had not
thought it worth while to carry away. They struck the trail and followed
it for twelve days without overtaking the fugitives. At last their camp
was seen far away in the distance. Kit Carson was the first who caught a
glimpse of it. He urged that they should draw unseen as near the camp as
possible, and then make a sudden rush upon the Indians, with constant and
unerring discharges from their rifles. He said that the savages in their
consternation would run, each one to save his own life, without thinking
of their captives. If there were a few moments allowed them for thought,
they would certainly kill them before effecting their escape.

Unfortunately his counsel was not followed. There was hesitation, delay,
and talk of parley. At length they made the attack. The Indians fled
before them like deer. The body of Mrs. White was found in the camp, still
warm, with an arrow piercing her heart. The savages, on their fresh
horses, could not be overtaken by the wearied steeds of the dragoons. They
were pursued for six miles. One warrior was killed, and several wounded.
Sadly they returned. The little child of Mrs. White had annoyed the
Indians by its cries, and with one blow of a tomahawk, its skull had been
split open.

Mr. Carson speaking of this adventure modestly writes:

"I am certain that if the Indians had been charged immediately on our
arrival, Mrs. White would have been saved. Yet I cannot blame the
commanding officer, or the guide, for the action they took in the affair.
They evidently did as they thought best; but I have no doubt that they now
can see that if my advice had been taken, the life of Mrs. White might
have been spared."

The expedition however was not a failure. The Indians were severely
punished. Many of them fled with nothing but the scanty clothing they had
on. Mr. Carson returned to Razado. The winter passed peacefully away.

In the spring, a band of Apaches entered the valley, shot the two
herdsmen, and drove off a large number of animals. Kit Carson, at the head
of ten dragoons, set out in sharp pursuit. After a ride of twenty-five
miles, they came in sight of them, far away on the prairie