One dark night a number of Indians stole by the sentinels and
before their presence was discovered, drove off the major part of
the horses. In the morning, when the alarming truth became known,
the employer of the trappers asked Carson to take twelve of the
men and do his utmost to recover those that were stolen. Carson
assented at once, and, in his quiet, self possessed fashion, collected
his comrades who were speedily in the saddle and galloping along
the trail of the thieves.

It may strike the reader that an offhand statement like the foregoing
relates to a proceeding of no special difficulty or peril. A party
of brave white men were pursuing a company of Indian horse thieves
and the chances of escape and capture were about equal. Thus the
matter presents itself to the ordinary spectator, whereas the truth
was far different.

In the first place, the savages, being as well mounted as their
pursuers, were sure to maintain a swift pace, so long as they
believed any danger threatened. They would keep a keen watch of the
back trail and would be quick to detect the approach of enemies.
If pressed hard, they would act as the Apaches and Comanches do,
when they find the United States troops at their heels -- break up
in so many small parties that it is impossible to follow them.

First of all, therefore, Carson had two achievements before him
-- and the accomplishment of either seemed to render the other
impossible: he must travel at a faster rate than the thieves, and,
at the same time keep them in ignorance of his pursuit. It is on
such occasions that a man's woodcraft and knowledge of the country
serve him so well. Many a time, during the career of Kit Carson,