and justly
exasperated by an outrage inflicted upon them by a preceding party of
United States recruits. Kit Carson, though unconscious of this, perceived
at once that something was wrong. These Indians had been very friendly.

With his customary caution, he ordered the caravan to press forward as
rapidly as possible, through the country of the Cheyennes, while every man
was ordered to be constantly on guard. Having advanced about twenty miles,
he saw that the savage warriors were rapidly gathering around him, in ever
increasing numbers. Throwing up an intrenched camp, he rode out to within
hailing distance of an advanced party of the warriors, and proposed a
council. His friendly words in some degree conciliated them. They were
soon seated in a circle, and they smoked the pipe of peace. Carson had
addressed them through an interpreter. They did not suppose that the pale
face could understand their language. But he did understand it perfectly.

The savages began to talk very loudly among themselves. Carson,
understanding every word they said, listened eagerly, hoping to ascertain
the cause of their unexpected hostility. Openly, but as they thought
secretly, they discussed their plot, treacherously to disarm the whites of
their suspicion, and then to arise and massacre them all. With true
Indian cunning, they had arranged matters so that it would appear that
the Sioux Indians, had perpetrated the massacre, and that the white man's
vengeance might fall upon them.

Suddenly Carson sprang to his feet, ordered every man who attended him, to
be ready for immediate action. Then to the astonishment of the savages, in
pure Cheyenne, he said to them:

"You see that I understand all that you have said. Why do you wish for my
scalp? I have ever been the friend of your tribe. No one of you has ever
been injured by me. There are some here whom I have met in past years. If
they will turn to their memories, they will recall the former hunter of
Bent's Fort. I have eaten and drank with them. And now without any
provocation from me, you treacherously seek my life. If you do not
instantly leave this place, I will order you to be shot."

The warriors disappeared on swift feet. Kit Carson's change of dress had
so altered his appearance, that they did not at first recognize him. But
they had not forgotten his reputation. Though they had counted his armed
teamsters, and saw that they numbered fifteen, the Indian warriors held a
grand coun