With his usual skill and promptitude, he accomplished his mission, and brought the lost party safely to the fort.  They then directed their course to Monterey, on the sea coast, where they could obtain all they needed.  When within thirty miles of the place, an express arrived from General Castro, the Mexican commander of the territory, ordering Colonel Fremont and his party to leave the country or he would compel them to do so.

Instead of obeying this order, Colonel Fremont, with but forty men under his command, immediately selected a good military position, and prepared for a defence.  General Castro soon appeared with several hundred troops, infantry, cavalry and artillery, and established himself within a few hundred yards of the Fremont camp.  The two parties watched each other for three days.  Colonel Fremont then, satisfied that the Mexicans would not assume the offensive, and that it would be rash to attempt to force his way against so powerful a foe, turned his steps north to the Sacramento river, and thence to the mouth of the Columbia.

On the route they met a thousand Indian warriors.  They were armed only with arrows and javelins.  A fierce battle ensued.  The Indians were repelled with heavy loss.  Mr. Carson thinks that in that conflict, they became convinced that with their weapons, they could never hope to vanquish the rifle-armed white men.  Upon this trip they also learned that war had broken out between the United States and Mexico.  The express which brought this intelligence informed Fremont that a United States officer was in the rear, with a few men in imminent peril.

Colonel Fremont took Carson and ten other picked men, and hastened to the rescue.  Mr. Carson himself gives the following account of a tragic scene which soon took place.  The narrative was given in a letter published in the Washington Union of June, 1847: 

“Mr. Gillespie had brought the Colonel letters from home and he was up, and kept a large fire burning until after midnight.  This was the only night, in all our travels, except the one night on the island in Salt Lake, that we failed to keep guard.  As the men were so tired and we expected no attack now that we had sixty in the party, the Colonel did not like to ask it of them, but sat up late himself.  Owens and I were sleeping together, and we were waked at the same time by the licks of the axe that killed our men.  At first I did not know it was that, but I called to Basil who was on that side: 

“‘What’s the matter there?  What’s that fuss about?’

“He never answered for he was dead then, poor fellow, and he never knew what killed him.  His head had been cut in, in his sleep.  The Delawares, we had four with us, were sleeping at that fire, and they sprang up as the Klamaths charged them.  One of them caught up a gun which was unloaded, but although he could do no execution he kept them at bay like a soldier, and did not give up till he was shot full of arrows, three entering his heart.