“The American trapper was not like the Hudson’s Bay employees, bred to the business.  Oftener than any other way he was some wild youth who, after some misdemeanor in the society of his native place, sought safety from reproach or punishment in the wilderness.  Or he was some disappointed man, who with feelings embittered towards his fellows, preferred the seclusion of the forest and mountain.  Many were of a class disreputable everywhere, who gladly embraced a life not subject to social laws.  A few were brave, independent and hardy spirits, who delighted in the hardships and wild adventures their calling made necessary.  All these men, the best with the worst, were subject to no will but their own.  And all experience goes to prove that a life of perfect liberty is apt to degenerate into a life of license.

“Even their own lives, and those of their companions, when it depended upon their own prudence, were but lightly considered.  The constant presence of danger made them reckless.  It is easy to conceive how, under these circumstances, the natives and the foreigners grew to hate each other, in the Indian country, especially after the Americans came to the determination to ‘shoot an Indian at sight.’

“On the other hand, the employees of the Hudson’s Bay Company were many of them half-breeds, or full-blooded Indians of the Iroquois nation, towards whom nearly all the tribes were kindly disposed.  Even the Frenchmen, who trapped for this Company, were well liked by the Indians on account of their suavity of manner, and the ease with which they adapted themselves to savage life.  They were trained to the life of a trapper, were subject to the will of the Company, and were generally just and equitable in their dealing with the Indians.  Most of them also had native wives, and half-breed children, and were regarded as relatives.  There was a wide difference.”

It was the month of September when Mr. Young and his party set out on their return.  The homeward route was essentially the same which they had already traversed.  They made a brief visit at the Mission of San Fernando, and then pressed on to the flourishing Mission village of Los Angelos.  This City of the Angels, as it was called, from the salubrity of the climate and the beauty of the scenery, was on a small river about four hundred and fifty miles southeast from the present site of San Francisco.

Here Mr. Carson was introduced to a scene of refined, and polished life, such as he had never witnessed before.  He was informed that a Spanish gentleman of wealth was residing, at the distance of a few miles, on one of the most highly cultivated farms in the country.  Young Carson, who never allowed any opportunity of extending his knowledge to escape him, dressed himself carefully in his best apparel, mounted a fine horse, well caparisoned, and set out to pay the Spaniard a visit.