camp."

The next morning we were up and had an early breakfast. By that time the squaws had commenced coming in with their furs. Uncle Kit took a pack of jewelry and knives and got off to one side where the Indians could get all around him. In a very short time I think there must have been a hundred squaws there with their furs.

They brought from one to a dozen Beaver skins each, and then the Bucks began coming in and then the trading began. Carson would hold up a finger ring or a knife and call out in Spanish, "I'll give this for so many Beaver skins!"

It really was amusing to see the Indians run over each other to see who should get the ring or knife first.

This trading did not last over half an hour because Carson's stock of goods was exhausted. Carson then said to the Indians, "No more trade no more knives, no more rings, all gone."

Of course a great many of the Indians were disappointed, but they soon left us. As soon as they were gone Freemont came to Carson and said, "What in the name of common sense are you going to do with all those furs?"

Uncle Kit said, "Col., I'm going to send them to Taos, and later on they will go to Bent's Fort." The Col. said, "Yes, but by whom will you send them to Taos?" Carson replied, "By Willie, John and the Mexican boy."

The Col. said, "Don't you think you are taking a great many chances?" "Oh, no, not at all. Willie here is getting to be quite a mountaineer. Besides, I am going to get some of these Indians to go with the boys as far as the head of the Blue, and when they get there they are, comparatively speaking, out of danger."

He then said, "Colonel, we will lay over here today, and that will give me a chance to pack my furs and get the boys ready to start in the morning."

We then went to work baling the hides; by noon we had them all baled. After dinner Carson and I went over to the Indian camp. We went directly to the Chief's wigwam. When the Indians saw us coming they all rushed up to us. I presume they thought we had come to trade with them again. Uncle Kit then told the Chief that he wanted eight Indian men to go with us boys to the head of the Blue River. At the same time he sat down and marked on the ground each stream and mountain that he wanted us to travel over. He told them that he would give each one of them one butcher knife and two rings, and said they must not camp with the Utes.

I think there were at least twenty Indians that wanted to go. Carson then turned to the Chief and told him in Spanish to pick out eight good Indians to go with us, and told him just what time we wanted to start in the morning. We then went back to our camp and commenced making arrangements for our journey to Taos.

Carson and I were sitting down talking that afternoon when Col. Freemont came and sat beside us and said to Uncle Kit, "Say, Kit, ain't you taking desperate chances with these boys?"

This surprised me, for I had never heard him address Carson as Kit before in all the time I had known him.

Carson laughed and answered, "Not in the least; for they have got a good escort to go with them." Then he explained to Freemont that he had hired some Indians to go with us through the entire hostile country, telling him that the boys were just as safe with those Indians as they would be with the command, and more safe, for the Indians would protect them, thinking they would get his trade by so doing. Uncle Kit then explained to him that the Sighewashes were known to all the tribes on the coast and were on good terms with them all, and therefore there was no danger whatever in sending the boys through the Indian country. The Col. answered, "Of course, you know best; I admit that you know the nature of the Indian thoroughly, but I must say that I shall be uneasy until I hear from the boys again."

Uncle Kit said, "Wait until tomorrow morning, and I will convince you that I am right."

The next morning we were up early and had breakfast, and before we had our animals half packed the old chief and hundreds of the Indians were there. Those that the chief had selected to accompany us were on horse back, and the others had come to bid us farewell, and that was one of the times I was tired shaking hands.

When we were about ready to mount our horses and had shaken hands with Uncle Kit and the balance of the company, the Indians made a rush for us. Both bucks and squaws shouted, "Ideose, ideose," which means, "good bye, good bye," and every one trying to shake our hands at once, and of all the noise I ever heard, this was the worst. After this racket had been going on some fifteen or twenty minutes, I turned and saw Uncle Kit and Col. Freemont standing on a big log laughing like they would split their sides. Finally Uncle Kit motioned for me to mount my horse. I mounted and the other boys followed suit, and when we started of all the noise that ever was made this beat any I ever heard in all my life. At the same time the Indians were waving their hands at us.

As soon as we left the crowd of Indians Uncle Kit and Col. Freemont joined us. The Col. said to me, "Willie, this is one of the times you have had your hand well shaken, I really felt sorry for you, but I didn't see how I could assist you, and I am in hopes you will not get such a shaking up in a good while. Now, my boy, be very careful, and try and get through safe and sound, and when we come along back next fall, we will all go to St. Louis together."

Uncle Kit told me to not let the Indians turn back until we crossed the divide at the head of Blue river. He said, "Then you will be out of the Ute country, and all danger to you will be over, but do not put too much confidence in these Indians although I think they are reliable and will do just as I have told them to do. But I want you to be on the lookout all the time yourself. I know there will be no danger in the daytime, and when night comes be sure and put your fire out before it gets dark, and when you get to Taos rest up a few days, and then hunt up Jim Bridger or Jim Beckwith, and they will advise you what to do. It may be that I will get home myself, in which case you will not need their advice."

We now bid them "good bye" and started on what would be called now a long, tedious and dangerous journey, but at that time we thought nothing of it.

How long a time it took us to make this trip I do not remember. The Indians traveled in the lead the most of the time. When near the middle of the afternoon, I would ask them in Spanish how far they were going tonight, and they would tell me the number of hours it would take to go but seemed not to understand the distance by miles. The Indians showed more judgment in selecting the camping ground than I expected they would.

In a few days we were in the Ute country, and we saw plenty of Indian sign every day. I think it was on one of the tributaries of the Green river we were traveling along one afternoon, we came in sight of a band of Ute Indians. They were in camp. We were in about a half a mile of them when we first saw them; they were directly to the north of us, and they discovered us at the same time we saw them. As soon as the Sighewashes saw the Utes they stopped, and two of the Sighewashes rode back to us and said in Spanish, "We go see Utes," and they rode over to the Ute camp. Probably they were gone a half hour or more, when they returned, and we surely watched every move the Utes made till the Sighewashes came back to us. When they came back they were laughing and said to us, "Utes heap good." Then I was satisfied that we were in no danger.

We traveled on some five or six miles when we came to a nice little stream of water where there was fine grass. I said to the boys, "We'll camp here. Now you boys