Carson and Godey were determined to make one effort to punish the rascals.  They started, taking Fuentes with them, upon the trail of the Indians.  The chase was a severe one, as, in the judgment of the mountaineers, the Indians would not make a short trail after acquiring so much booty.  The horse which Fuentes rode, most unfortunately, gave out after a short ride.  There was no time to be lost and no means at hand to supply this important deficiency.  To turn back to camp would supply it, but that course would also lose them their game.  Fuentes, therefore, was requested to return to Fremont’s camp, and there await the return of Kit Carson and Godey.  These two had been the only men in the entire command who had volunteered in this chase.  The loss of Fuentes therefore made their task literally a Don Quixotic adventure.  Two men against thirty.  But Kit Carson was not the man to turn his back upon an adventure as soon as the difficulties began to present themselves.  He well knew that he had one man on whom he could rely.  Richard Godey was his tried and trusty friend, his kindred spirit and a noble hearted man.  Leaving the Mexican to find his way back to camp, a distance of about twenty miles, they gave him their word that they would finish the business.  The following night was very dark, and in order to keep on the right scent Carson and Godey were obliged to lead their horses and frequently to follow the trail by the sense of feeling.  It was seldom, however, that they lost the path, and never for more than a few moments at a time.  Gradually the signs grew fresher as they advanced, which gave them the assurance that they were rapidly gaining on the pursuit.  Finally, they concluded that only a few hours separated them from the savages.  Having accomplished a considerable part of their journey during the night, and finding that both themselves and their horses required rest, they concluded to halt.  Having unsaddled their animals and turned them out to graze, they wrapped themselves up in their wet blankets and laid down to sleep.  The weather, however, was too cold to permit sleeping in comfort without a fire.  That they dare not make, fearing it would prove a warning signal to the savages.  Having worried through the remainder of this cold and cheerless night, they arose early in the morning and went to the bottom of a deep ravine where they kindled a small fire and succeeded in warming themselves.  At daybreak they re-saddled their jaded horses and once more started upon the trail.  Just as the sun was rising they discovered the Indians.  When first seen they were encamped two miles in advance, and were enjoying a breakfast on horse steaks, having already killed five of the stolen animals.  Kit Carson and his friend dismounted, and, concealing their horses near by, held a council of war.  They decided to crawl in among the herd of stolen animals which were grazing, without guard, at a short distance from the camp of the savages.  Upon reaching the horses,