One morning, as the Rangers were proceeding through a dense thicket,
with Putnam's Provincials in front, they ran into an ambush which the
wary Marin, the French partizan fighter, had prepared, by posting his
men in a semicircular position across the trail. Suddenly the air was
rent with yells and reports of firearms, and several Provincials fell in
their tracks. Putnam, taken unawares, yet as always cool and collected,
gave orders to return the fire, and sent word back for support, which in
the confusion incident to the sudden attack was not promptly
forthcoming. Forging ahead, he was confronted by an Indian chieftain, a
giant in size, against whose breast he at once placed the muzzle of his
fusee, which--as those primitive flintlocks were likely to do in an
emergency--missed fire. The savage then had him at his mercy, and
brandishing his tomahawk above his head compelled him to surrender, when
he tied him to a tree, and then left him to mingle in the fight again.
As the Rangers rallied to battle it happened that the tree to which
Putnam was bound came directly between the fires of both parties, and as
the bullets flew thickly around our hero's position was not by any
means an enviable one.
Pages:
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86