“Joseph Bissonnette.”
The chiefs who brought this note, four in number, sat in silence until it had been read. One of them rose and stepping forward shook hands with Mr. Fremont, and then said:
“You have come among us at a bad time. Some of our people have been killed, and our young men, who are gone to the mountains, are eager to avenge the blood of their relations, which has been shed by the whites. Our young men are bad. If they meet you they will believe that you are carrying goods and ammunition to their enemies, and will fire upon you. You have told us that this will make war. We know that our great father has many soldiers, and big guns, and we are anxious to have our lives. We love the whites and are desirous of peace. Thinking of all these things, we have determined to keep you here until our warriors return.”
The others followed in the same strain. Lieutenant Fremont had the pride of an American military officer, and was not disposed to be driven from his course by threats of danger. He also believed the stories of peril to be greatly exaggerated, and that the great object of the chiefs was to prevent him from going farther into their country, where he had openly avowed it was his intention to establish a military fort. He therefore, in reply, urged that two or three of the chiefs should accompany him until they should meet the young men. He said they should eat at his table and sleep in his tent, and that he would abundantly reward them on their return.
This they declined to do, saying that they were too old for such a journey.
Mr. Fremont then said to them, “You say that you love the whites. But you are unwilling to undergo a few days’ ride to save our lives. We do not believe you. We will not listen to you. We are the soldiers of the great chief your father. He has told us to come here and see this country, and all the Indians. We shall not go back. We are few and you are many. You may kill us all. But do you think that our great chief will let his soldiers die and forget to cover their graves? Before the snows melt, his warriors will sweep away your villages as the fire does the prairie in the autumn. See! I have pulled down my white houses, and my people are ready. When the sun is ten paces higher, we shall be on the march.”
They left the fort on the twenty-second of July, and followed up the north fork of the Platte for three weeks, encountering no molestation from the Indians, and meeting only with the ordinary hardships to be expected in travelling through the wilderness. They generally found a sufficiency of water, of grazing and of game. They at length found themselves among the wildest ravines of the Rocky mountains. Here they employed themselves day after day in astronomical and geological observations, and then commenced their return. All the objects of their expedition had been successfully accomplished. They reached Fort Laramie early in September. Kit Carson’s labors were now ended. He had joined the expedition as hunter and guide. In neither of these offices were his services any longer required. He therefore remained at the fort, while the surveying party returned to St. Louis.