hence, it became necessary to take instant measures in order to insure the safety of the advance.  Kit Carson, who was the commander of the party, after quietly surveying the scene, gave orders for the men, with their animals, to conceal themselves, as best they could in the brush.  His orders had been issued but just in time, for the concealment was barely attained, when the Indians were upon them.  They were received with a well-directed volley from the rifles of the little party, which brought down several of the fierce assailants.  They recoiled and retreated for a moment.  The moment was golden to the few white men.  Like men who were fighting for their lives but who were cool in danger, they made no mistakes in reloading their rifles.  They were but just ready, however, for the second charge.  This time the savages came on with unearthly yells and desperate courage, seemingly well satisfied that before them stood the men whose faithful rifle-talk they had heard before.  Kit warned his men to keep cool and fire as if shooting game, a warning which was entirely unnecessary, for the result was that the savages were again driven back with a brave bleeding or dying for nearly every shot fired.  It was very fortunate that Kit had chosen this position, for the engagement lasted nearly the entire day.  The loss on the part of the Indians was very severe.  They did everything in their power to force Kit and his party from their cover, but without avail.  Every time they attempted to charge into the thicket the same deadly volley was poured in with never-failing aim, which invariably caused the savages to beat a hasty retreat.  Before the next attack the trappers were ready for them with reloaded rifles.  At last, as if driven to desperation, the Indians set the thicket on fire, hoping to burn out their foes.  Most providentially, in this also they were foiled.  After consuming the outer shrubbery, the fire died out.  This was the last act attempted by the savages.  Seeing the ill-success of their effort to dislodge the trappers by fire, they departed.  They may have been hurried in this leave-taking somewhat by news brought in by their spies of the near approach of the main body of the trappers, which had arrived at a point about six miles distant from the battle ground.  They had been prevented from hearing the reports of fire-arms by adverse winds, and knew nothing of the fight until informed by the trappers engaged in it.  When sufficient time had elapsed for the Indians to be well out of sight, Kit Carson and his companions left their cover and soon found their way into the camp of their friends.