Thirty-One Years on the Plains and in the Mountains, Or, the Last Voice from the Plains: An Authentic Record of a Life Time of Hunting, Trapping, Scouting and Indian Fighting in the Far WestDrannan, William F.
History
Thirty-One Years on the Plains and in the Mountains, Or, the Last Voice from the Plains: An Authentic Record of a Life Time of Hunting, Trapping, Scouting and Indian Fighting in the Far West
Drannan, William F.
Frontier and pioneer life -- West (U.S.); Indians of North America -- Wars
On arriving at Favor's place we found that he had a number of his
St. Louis friends with him, who had only arrived a few days
previous to this. After introducing us all around, he said: "I
want you two men to come over and take supper with me. I have just
ordered supper at the Jefferson House."
Uncle Kit tried to excuse himself on the grounds that we were not
dressed well enough to go into company, we having on our buckskin
suits. But his answer was:
"I would not have you dressed otherwise if I could, so be sure and
come with your side arms on" having reference to our revolvers and
knives. He then addressed his conversation to me for a few moments
by asking what I would take to tell him the honest truth as to how
many Indians I had scalped with the knife that he gave me, seeing
that I still carried it.
I said: "Mr. Favor, I could tell you just the number, but it would
be out of place for me to do so." He asked why, and I said: "Mr.
Favor, up to this time I don't think I have ever given you any
reason to doubt my word, but if I should tell you the honest truth
as to the number of Indians I have scalped with that knife I fear
you would doubt me."
By this time a number of his St. Louis friends had flocked around
me, and it seemed as if they would look through me. Mr. Favor
assured me that he would not doubt my word for a moment, but I
told him his friends would. They assured me that they would not,
saying from what they had heard of me from Mr. Favor before seeing
me, they felt satisfied that I would tell them the truth.
I said: "Gentlemen, if I had gotten one more scalp I would just
have even thirty-four, but as it is I have just taken thirty-three
scalps with this knife. I mean from Indians that I killed myself.
I have taken a number that were killed by others, but I did not
count them."
The crowd then turned their attention to Uncle Kit Carson, and
while at the supper table those St. Louis parties asked him what
he would take to sit down and give them a true history of his life
and let them write it up and have it published. To this he would
not hear. They then came at him in a different manner by asking
what per cent, of the net proceeds he would take. To this he said:
"Gentlemen, if there is anything on earth that I do dislike it
surely is this thing called notoriety," and he continued by
saying, "There is a part of my life that I hate to think of
myself, and a book written without the whole of my life would not
amount to anything."
After supper we returned to the store and those men talked with
Uncle Kit until near midnight about this matter. By this time he
had become impatient and said: "Gentlemen, there is no use
talking, for I will not submit to a thing of this kind, and you
will oblige me very much by not mentioning it any more." So that
ended the conversation concerning the matter, for the time being,
and Uncle Kit and I retired for the night.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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