When I returned from the express office where I had been to take the money, in fulfilment of my promise to Mr. Maxwell, old Tom Barnum and my passengers were still talking. Barnum approached me, saying, "Been up to some more of your tricks, have you, Billy?" I told him I had been taking "poker chips" to the express office, if that was what he meant. They all had a good laugh; then Barnum requested me to show him the receipt I gave Maxwell for the money. "Now, Billy," said Barnum, "you're a pretty bird, you know we would not charge Maxwell a cent for express, for we never paid him a cent for board or for feeding our mules--but never mind,"--then he laughed, "oh, that receipt!" CHAPTER XIX. Kit Carson, My Friend. Christopher Carson, known among his friends as simply Kit Carson, was a Kentuckian by birth, having been born in December, 1809. Kentucky was at the time of his birth an almost pathless wilderness, rich with game, and along its river banks the grasses grew so luxuriant that it invited settlers to settle there and build homes out of the trees which grew in such profusion. Small gardens were cultivated where corn, beans, onions and a few other vegetables were raised, but families subsisted, for the most part, on game with which the forests abound, and the lakes and rivers were alive with fish. Wild geese, ducks, turkeys, quail and pigeons swept through the air with perfect freedom. Deer, antelope, moose, beaver, wolves, catamount and even grizzly bear often visited the scene of the settler's home, among whom was our friend, Kit Carson. Kit Carson had no education. There were no schools to attend other than the school of "trapping," and he became a trapper and Indian guide and interpreter. When Kit was a small boy his father moved, on foot, so history relates, to Missouri. At the time of the move, however, there was no state or even territory of Missouri. France had ceded to the United States the unexplored regions which were in 1800 called Upper Louisiana. Kit's father had a few white friends, trappers and hunters, but the Indians were numerous. Mr. Carson, together with the other white families, banded themselves together and built a large log house, so fashioned as to be both a house and a fort if occasion demanded them to fortify against a possible foe. The building was one story high, having port holes through which the muzzles of rifles could be thrust. As additional precaution they built palisades around the house. This house was built in what is now Howard County, Missouri, north of the Missouri river. Christopher Carson at fifteen years of age had never been to school a day, but he was "one of the Four Hundred" equal to any man in his district. He was a fine marksman, excellent horseman, of strong character and sound judgment. His disposition was quiet, amiable and gentle. One of those boys who did things without boasting and did everything the best he could.