This singular race was down the valley of the Green river.  The Indian’s horse suddenly gave out completely.  He could go no farther.  Nothing remained for Carson but to relinquish the pursuit, and slowly to return with the dismounted Indian, or to continue the chase alone.  Carson could not endure the thought of failure.  His pride of character led him ever to resolve to accomplish whatever he should undertake.  He seems not at all to have thought of the peril he would encounter in grappling with the savage alone.  The Indian was of herculean size and strength, and of wonderful agility.  He was well armed, and thoroughly understood the use of his rifle.  His bravery had already given him renown, and it was certain that under the circumstances he would fight with the utmost desperation.

Kit Carson, on the other hand, was slender and almost boyish in stature.  In a conflict with the burly savage it would be a David meeting a Goliath.

It was a peculiarity of Mr. Carson’s mind, that his decisions were instantaneous.  He never lost any time in deliberation; but whatever the emergency, he seemed instinctively to know at the moment, exactly the best thing to be done.  The most mature subsequent deliberation invariably proved the wisdom of the course he had adopted.  This was said to have been a marked peculiarity in the mind of Napoleon I. However great the complication of affairs, however immense the results at issue, his mind at a single flash discerned the proper measures to be adopted; and without the slightest agitation the decision was pushed into execution.

Carson looked for a moment upon his unhorsed comrade, uttered no words of lamentation, bade him good bye, wished him a successful return, and pushed forward on his truly heroic enterprise.  Thirty miles farther he rode alone through the wilderness, carefully husbanding his horse’s strength, allowing him occasional moments of rest, and not unfrequently relieving him of his burden as he ran along by his side.  Though Mr. Carson was, as we have said, very fragile in form, his sinews seemed tireless as if wrought of steel.

At length, just as he was rounding a small eminence on the open prairie, he caught sight of the Indian with his stolen cavalcade, not an eighth of a mile before him.  He was mounted on one of the most powerful of the steeds, moving leisurely along, leading the rest.  There chanced to be two or three trees not far from the savage.  The moment he caught sight of Carson, his keen eye discerned who his foe was.  Instantly he leaped from his horse, rifle in hand, and rushed at his highest speed for the trees.  Could he but reach that covert, Carson’s fate was sealed beyond any possibility of escape.  Sheltered by the trunk of the tree, he could take deliberate aim at his foe, exposed on the open prairie within half rifle shot.