Imitations of the Actions of Military
Men.

The expedition into the United States which terminated with the last
chapter, proved to be valuable in its results so far as the parties
engaged in it were concerned. Kit Carson was once more trying hard to
keep quiet in his comfortable home at Rayado. But his restless spirit
was not proof against this inactivity. His stay at home therefore was
short. The memories of other days came upon him, and he longed once
more to enjoy, in company with the "friends of his youth," the scenes,
excitements and pleasures of his old life as a trapper. Throughout his
eventful life, as the reader has been able clearly to see, Kit Carson
seldom spent his time in idle thinking. His thoughts almost invariably
take form in actions. This eager longing resulted, therefore, in the
forming of a regular trapping expedition after the olden style, shape,
etc, which he organized with great care and attention. The members of
the party were selected by himself chiefly with great exclusiveness,
and numbers who wished to join the party were refused, on account of
their inexperience. After a good deal of inquiry, Kit succeeded in
collecting eighteen of his old companions. No one among them was not
entitled to be called a mountaineer. Kit looked upon this party of men
with an eye of real affection. The meeting previous to the start was a
scene to behold. Such a greeting of old friends, well tried and true,
will not soon be again seen on the American continent. The day when
men went trapping was "long time ago." Kit Carson, as he stood among
this band of friends, the acknowledged leader of the party, every
man of whom he knew would have periled his life for either one of the
company, felt that, indeed, the days of his youth had returned unto
him.

Everything preliminary was arranged in the most approved style. When
all was complete, Kit Carson, mounted on his magnificent charger
Apache, riding to the head of the line, gave the order to march. Kit
had put it to vote and the result was unanimous, that the expedition
should be no boy's play. On the contrary, the boldest and one of
the longest of the routes, known to their experienced footsteps,
was selected. It comprised many of the mighty rivers of the Rocky
Mountains, every one of which was almost a hunting ground by itself.
Onward, over the wild and broad plains, this band of stalwart men,
brave and kindred spirits, dashed. They soon put many a mile betwe