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Goaded on by the fear of punishment for theft, Carson well knew that he would require all of his own address to purchase success; for, the rascal would not fail to make a most desperate resistance. But Kit Carson's courage arose, as the difficulties of the adventure seemed to multiply.
Resorting to the old trick which came up from South American ports in disreputable windjammers, which is known to the San Francisco waterfront, he raised a heavy boot, striking for Lee's stomach, seeking with one low, horrible blow to double up his already handicapped antagonist in writhing pain on the floor. "An' I gave my word!" bellowed Carson, the sweat on his own tortured brow. "Oh, my Gawd."
Whether to admit Hercules among us or not, concerning this I long remained dubious: for though according to the Greek mythologies, that antique Crockett and Kit Carson that brawny doer of rejoicing good deeds, was swallowed down and thrown up by a whale; still, whether that strictly makes a whaleman of him, that might be mooted.
And these stout, hardy veterans of the wilderness seem with one accord to have decided that he was the fitting one to lead them into battle, where they were to encounter perhaps hundreds of savage warriors. Cautiously Kit Carson led his little band so as to approach the Indian village unperceived. At a given signal they raised the war-whoop and impetuously charged into the cluster of wigwams.
"I'll see you in " began Quinnion, as something of the old bluster came back to him. "Shut up!" snapped Lee. "Carson, let me have your gun." Carson, wondering, gave it. Lee dropped it on the floor at Quinnion's foot. "Pick that gun up and we'll finish what we've begun," he said coolly to Quinnion. "I won't shoot until you've got it in your hand and have straightened up. Then I'll kill you.
And Miss Carson threw her head from side to side, uneasily almost impatiently; then cried out with pain, as she took a deeper inspiration than usual. Mrs. Grant left the room, and going down stairs, despatched her servant for a physician, who lived not far distant. "It is pleurisy," said the doctor, on examining the case. "And a very severe attack," he added, aside, to Mrs. Grant.
They had been on a hunt, and had been successful in getting all the game they wanted. When they rode up to our camp they surrounded Carson every one of them, trying to shake his hand first.
A groan came through his clenched teeth and tightly pressed lips, and, accompanied by a sudden wave of whiteness that made his face paler than before, a shudder passed over him. "He's fainted this time, for keeps," decided Dave, grimly. Dave Carson had some knowledge of rough and ready first-aid work.
Carson carefully reconnoitred the position, gave minute directions to his men, and they all, with the noiseless, stealthy movement of the panther, worked their way along until they were within rifle distance of their foes. Every man selected his victim and took deliberate aim. The signal was given. The discharge was simultaneous. Twelve bullets struck twelve warriors.
At midnight fifty savages were seen in the bright moonlight, approaching their ruined homes. Some alarm caused them precipitately to retreat. Carson was a little in advance with Colonel Fremont. He saw one solitary warrior separate from the rest. Spurring upon the savage at the distance of not ten paces he endeavored to shoot him, when his gun missed fire.
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