Christopher Carson | Page 4

in 1803, France had ceded to the United States
the vast unexplored regions, whose boundaries even, were scarcely
defined, but which were then called Upper Louisiana.
Here Mr. Carson seems to have reached a very congenial home. He
found, scattered through the wilderness, a few white people, trappers,
hunters, wanderers who had preceded him. The Indians, in numerous
bands, as hunters and as warriors, were roving these wilds. They could
not be relied upon, whatever their friendly professions. Any wrong
which they might receive from any individual white man, their peculiar

code of morals told them they might rightly attempt to redress by
wreaking their vengeance upon any pale face, however innocent he
might be. Thus hundreds of Indian warriors might, at any time, come
swooping down upon Mr. Carson's cabin, laying it in ashes, and
burying their tomahawks in the brains of his family.
The few white men, some half a dozen in number, who had gathered
around Mr. Carson, deemed it expedient for self-defence to unite and
build a large log cabin, which should be to them both a house and a fort.
This building of logs, quite long and but one story high, was pierced, at
several points, with portholes, through which the muzzles of the rifles
could be thrust. As an additional precaution they surrounded this house
with palisades, consisting of sticks of timber, six or eight inches in
diameter, and about ten feet high, planted as closely as possible
together. These palisades were also pierced with portholes.
With a practiced eye, these men had selected a very beautiful spot for
their habitation, in what is now called Howard county, Missouri, just
north of the Missouri river. It seems that they had much to fear from
the Indians. There were at this time, frequent wars with them, in the
more eastern portions of the continent, and the rumors of these conflicts
reached the ears of all the roving tribes, and greatly excited them. It
became necessary for the settlers to go upon their hunting excursions
with much caution.
As the months passed rapidly away, other persons one after another,
came to their fort. They were glad to find a safe retreat there, and were
welcomed as giving additional strength to the little garrison. Game
began to be scarce around their lonely habitation, for the crack of the
rifle was almost incessantly heard there. It thus became necessary to
resort more generally to farming, especially to raising large fields of
corn, whose golden ears could easily be converted into pork and into
bread. With these two articles of food, cornbread and bacon, life could
be hilarious on the frontier. Keenness of appetite supplied the want of
all other delicacies.
When they went to the cornfield to work, they first made a careful
exploration of the region around, to see if there were any lurking

savages near. Then with their guns ever ready to be grasped, and
keeping a close lookout for signs of danger, they ploughed and sowed
and gathered in their harvest.
Thus fifteen years passed away. Civilization made gradual
encroachments. Quite a little cluster of log huts was reared in the
vicinity, where the inmates in case of necessity could flee to the fort for
protection. Christopher, at fifteen years of age, was an unlettered boy,
small in stature, but very fond of the solitude of the forest, and quite
renowned as a marksman. He was amiable in disposition, gentle in his
manners, and in all respects a good boy. He had a strong character.
Whatever he undertook, he quietly and without any boasting performed.
With sound judgment, and endowed with singular strength and
elasticity, he was even then deemed equal to any man in all the
requirements of frontier life.
[Illustration]
At a short distance from the fort there was a saddler, and Mr. Carson,
with the advice of friends, decided to apprentice his son, now called Kit,
to learn that trade. The boy remained in this employment for two weary
years. Though faithful to every duty, and gaining the respect and
confidence of his employer, the work was uncongenial to him. He
longed for the freedom of the wilderness; for the sublime scenes of
nature, to which such a life would introduce him; for the exciting chase
of the buffalo, and the lucrative pursuits of the trapper, floating on
distant streams in the birch canoe, and loading his bark with rich furs,
which ever commanded a ready sale.
All these little settlements were clustered around some protecting fort.
A man, who was brought up in the remote West, furnishes the
following interesting incident in his own personal experience. It gives a
very graphic description of the alarms to which these pioneers were
exposed:
"The fort to which my father belonged was three-quarters of a mile