At the time we now speak of, several years, as the reader can readily
compute, had elapsed since Kit Carson was a hunter at Bent's Fort, and
then well known to most of the Cheyenne nation; but, these few years
had so altered him, together with his new style of dress, that it is
no doubt that, at first, not one of the Indians remembered ever having
seen him before.

Kit Carson remained quiet and allowed the Indians to open the talk, as
he was watching to find out what had so suddenly aroused their anger,
and he well knew, that if they supposed that he and his men did not
understand what they were conversing about, they might refer to the
cause of the trouble, and thus give him a clue whereby he might take
advantage and form a line of conduct. It was clear to his mind that
the Indians were resolved to have revenge on his party, and that
there was time enough to let himself be known to them, which, in their
present excited state, would serve him but little. The Indians had
at first conversed in the Sioux tongue. The reason for this was, to
conceal their own nationality and thus, if necessary, in the future,
they could shield themselves by laying the massacre, which they were
about to commit, on the shoulders of that tribe. This is a ruse often
employed by the Indians; but, in this case, in their heated state they
forgot their native cunning and commenced conversing in the language
which was most familiar to them. A Frenchman, called in the mountains
Pete, who spoke English fluently and who was with Carson during these
trying scenes, informed the writer, on one occasion, that he never
fully knew or appreciated Kit Carson until this occurrence. "Why,"
said he in his enthusiasm, "Kit knew just what was to be done and did
it too. With any other man, we would _have gone under_[22] The Indians
were more afraid of him than all the rest of us put together. There
were red fellows enough there to eat us up, and at one time I could
almost feel my hair _leaving my head_. We had two women traveling with
us and their crying made me feel so bad that I was sartin there was
no fight in me. Women (he added) are poor plunder to have along when
going out on a war party, but Kit talked to them and then to the
Indians, and put them both finally on the right trail. Wah!! but them
were ticklish times."

[Footnote 22: A trapper phrase for being killed.]

As soon as the Indians, in their excitement, began to speak their
own language, they became