desperate Fight with them—­The Soldiers defeated with severe loss—­Davidson’s Bravery is unjustly questioned—­Kit Carson’s Opinion of it—­The Apaches elated by their Victory—­Their Imitations of the Actions of Military Men.

The expedition into the United States which terminated with the last chapter, proved to be valuable in its results so far as the parties engaged in it were concerned.  Kit Carson was once more trying hard to keep quiet in his comfortable home at Rayado.  But his restless spirit was not proof against this inactivity.  His stay at home therefore was short.  The memories of other days came upon him, and he longed once more to enjoy, in company with the “friends of his youth,” the scenes, excitements and pleasures of his old life as a trapper.  Throughout his eventful life, as the reader has been able clearly to see, Kit Carson seldom spent his time in idle thinking.  His thoughts almost invariably take form in actions.  This eager longing resulted, therefore, in the forming of a regular trapping expedition after the olden style, shape, etc, which he organized with great care and attention.  The members of the party were selected by himself chiefly with great exclusiveness, and numbers who wished to join the party were refused, on account of their inexperience.  After a good deal of inquiry, Kit succeeded in collecting eighteen of his old companions.  No one among them was not entitled to be called a mountaineer.  Kit looked upon this party of men with an eye of real affection.  The meeting previous to the start was a scene to behold.  Such a greeting of old friends, well tried and true, will not soon be again seen on the American continent.  The day when men went trapping was “long time ago.”  Kit Carson, as he stood among this band of friends, the acknowledged leader of the party, every man of whom he knew would have periled his life for either one of the company, felt that, indeed, the days of his youth had returned unto him.

Everything preliminary was arranged in the most approved style.  When all was complete, Kit Carson, mounted on his magnificent charger Apache, riding to the head of the line, gave the order to march.  Kit had put it to vote and the result was unanimous, that the expedition should be no boy’s play.  On the contrary, the boldest and one of the longest of the routes, known to their experienced footsteps, was selected.  It comprised many of the mighty rivers of the Rocky Mountains, every one of which was almost a hunting ground by itself.  Onward, over the wild and broad plains, this band of stalwart men, brave and kindred spirits, dashed.  They soon put many a mile between them and the comfortable firesides at Rayado.  But these miles, Kit Carson has often said, were the shortest he ever traveled.  The way was beguiled by many a recollection in which every man present could participate with a relish, keen as disuse alone can render the palate of enjoyment.  In a short time the well-remembered waters of the South