flocked to it from Spain. There was here a narrow valley of the Rio Grande
about ten miles in extent, and quite well filled with the rude settlements
of the miners. It is said that at one time there were nearly seventy
thousand Spaniards and Indians scattered along the river banks in search
of the precious metals.

A trading party was bound from Santa Fe to this region. Colonel Trammel
was the leader of this party, and he eagerly secured the services of Kit
Carson, who, in addition to his experience as a traveller, could also
perform the functions of an interpreter. We have no record of the
incidents which occurred on this journey. As the route was well known, and
there were no hostile Indians to be encountered, it was probably
uneventful.

In this valley of El Paso, as it was called, Carson found about five
thousand people, mostly on the right bank of the river. The rudeness of
the style in which they lived painfully impressed him. There was far more
comfort in the cabins he had left in Missouri.

The houses were of clay baked in the sun, with earthen floors. Window
glass was a luxury unknown. It seems almost incredible that they should
have had neither chairs, tables, knives nor forks. These Mexicans were
scarcely one remove from the untamed savages of the wilderness. Young
Carson found nothing to interest him or to invite his stay. He returned to
Santa Fe. The summer had now passed and another winter come.

About a hundred and fifty miles north of Santa Fe there was a small
collection of huts called Taos, inhabited by trappers and hunters. This
pursuit of game for food and fur was the employment which was congenial to
him above all others. He directed his steps to Taos and at once entered