So
the commanding officer of the scouting party recognized it at once and
cried out that those approaching were friends. The volley had killed one
man only, and "Old Wolf Putnam," enraged, indignant, and yet sarcastic,
said to the opposing officer, "Friends or enemies, you all deserve to be
hanged for not killing more, when you had so fair a shot!" He had in
mind, of course, the numbers he and his men had slain, that night
preceding, when six or seven times their own force had fallen before
their unerring aim.
Having suffered so considerably at Putnam's hands, the French and
Indians, as may be imagined, were constantly on the watch to take their
arch enemy at a disadvantage. Not many weeks after the unsuccessful
attack upon Ticonderoga--to which allusion will presently be made--it
appeared as though the savages were about to accomplish their purpose,
for they surprised him, together with a small body of his men, on the
left bank of the Hudson, with the river between them and the fort. The
party of Indians was too strong to be successfully resisted, it was
impossible to cross the river without being shot, while below lay a
quarter-mile stretch of rapids through which a boat had never been sent
without disaster.
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