As these horses were worth, even at that remote spot on the great American Continent, the just and full sum of two hundred dollars each, making a round sum total of twelve hundred dollars, Mr. Robidoux was not content to pocket the loss; or, much less, to allow the rascal to enjoy ill-gotten wealth on the principle that “stolen fruit is sweet.”  He determined, if possible to show him that some stolen fruit is bitter.

Knowing Kit Carson’s reputation for skill and his fearless disposition, as soon as he had discovered his loss, he came and requested him to pursue the Indian.  Kit Carson is a man who never works without orders except when he is leader.  He therefore informed Captain Lee of Mr. Robidoux’s request and asked permission to serve his friend.  This, as a matter of course, was readily granted by Captain Lee; when, Kit instantly made his preparations for the adventure.  He was very soon on horseback, well armed and well prepared for hard and close work.

There chanced, near by to the camp, to be an Indian village belonging to the Utah Tribe.  The whites were on friendly terms with the inhabitants of this village, which determined Carson to seek out, from among their warriors, one active and intelligent brave, and get him to join in the chase.  This was the more easily accomplished as Carson’s reputation for skill, courage and experience was already well known in this tribe.  He, himself, had made a large circle of acquaintance among the braves, and many of them had become strongly attached to him.  Some of these attachments have existed for years and are still maintained; for, a fact well known, the American Indian warrior, as a general rule, is true and unchangeable in his friendships.  With this object in view, Carson, putting his horse to his speed, started for the Utah village.  On making his errand known to such of the braves as enjoyed his confidence, he found no difficulty in engaging a well-known warrior, and one on whom he knew he could rely, to accompany him.  The wily savage was soon ready for the march, when Kit gave the word to start.  Both men were splendidly mounted.  Their pace was that of no sluggard.  The high-conditioned animals which they rode seemed to catch the eager spirit of their masters, and entering into it, bent themselves to their work with determination accordingly.  To discover the trail of the deserter and to study its various characteristics, a science of no mean or useless order in the matter of a woodman’s education, required the two men to slacken their pace for a short time.  The tracks made by the stolen animals, however, were well marked; and, to such practised eyes, afforded a certain indication as to their route.  Again putting their horses to their speed, with compressed lips and eyes directed to the trail before them, Carson and the Indian warrior dashed on, feeling confident, that, if the rascal escaped with his ill-gotten booty, the sin would not be laid upon their shoulders.  The trail led down