Some of the balls passed through the sleeves and
skirt of his coat, and in this perilous position he remained for more
than an hour, unable either to move a limb or even his head.
No attention was paid to him, except that now and then a savage would
approach, and seeing him there helpless and a conspicuous mark would
throw a tomahawk at his head, to see how near he could come to this
living target without inflicting a fatal wound. An equally savage
Frenchman also approached, and aiming his fusee at his breast, would
have put him out of his misery had it not missed fire. This enraged the
scoundrel so that he gave Putnam a blow on the jaw with the butt-end of
his musket which nearly finished him, and then left him alone.
The battle waged unevenly for a while, but was finally decided in favor
of the Provincials, and the French and Indians hastily gathered their
prisoners together and fled northward toward Ticonderoga. Putnam's
captor stripped him of his coat and waistcoat, socks and shoes, then
after binding his wrists together he loaded him with as many packs as he
could pile upon his shoulders, and giving him in charge of another
Indian, left him to attend to the wounded.
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