Scouting with Kit CarsonTomlinson, Everett T. (Everett Titsworth)
General
Scouting with Kit Carson
Tomlinson, Everett T. (Everett Titsworth)
Carson, Kit, 1809-1868 -- Juvenile fiction
To the surprise of Reuben, however, when they entered the camp Rat was
greeted without any protest, though it could not be said that there was
manifest any feeling of special pleasure at his return. Apparently
accepting the condition as one which he had expected, Rat soon made
himself at home in response to the quiet invitation of Kit Carson. It
was plain, however, within a few days that the prejudices of the
trappers were still keen. Indeed there was not one who was not
suspicious of him, though there was none as yet who had shown any
unfriendly attitude.
Why had the man come back to camp? What had he expected? If he had
returned to take vengeance upon Kit Carson, why did he postpone his
attack? These questions and others like them were frequently in the
mind of Reuben, but when several days had elapsed and no answer had
been found, he concluded that the boaster had been taught a much-needed
lesson and that now he was cured of his overbearing ways.
On the fourth day after his arrival Rat suggested to Reuben that they
should visit their traps together. Unwilling though he was, Reuben
nevertheless quietly assented, and not long afterward the two men set
forth on their rounds.
The season had been wonderfully successful. Never in their experience
had so many skins been secured as the trappers had taken within the
preceding few weeks. The noisy Rat was loud in his declaration that Kit
Carson knew better than any one the streams where the beaver lived.
Whether his statement was true or not, beaver, otter, mink, and other
animals were caught in great numbers, and many of the skins, as has
been said, had been cached.
It was when Reuben and his companion had halted in the middle of the
day for luncheon that Rat quietly said to the lad: “Where have you made
your caches this time?”
Reuben laughed as he replied: “There’s one within ten feet of you now.”
“What!” exclaimed Rat, glancing keenly about him as he spoke.
“That’s right,” replied Reuben, “there’s one within ten feet of you. I
don’t know what Kit Carson would say, but I’m so sure you can’t find it
that I would almost be willing to say you can have half the skins there
if you dig out the place.”
“That’s all very well,” replied Rat; “of course I can’t find it.” At
the same time he glanced all about him, and if Reuben had been more
experienced he would have discovered that the trapper was protesting
too much. Again and again he begged of Reuben to show him the place
where the skins were concealed, declaring that he was unable to
discover any trace that had been left. Reuben, however, refused to
disclose the location of the cache, and when at last they proceeded on
their rounds he was convinced that Rat had no suspicion as to its exact
location.
“I’m wondering,” suggested Rat as they moved down the stream, “if Kit
Carson would have any objection to letting me bring some of my furs and
putting them in the cache along with his.”
“You’ll have to ask him.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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