itless. The enemy had taken to
their canoes and escaped before their pursuers could
overtake them.

Failing in this expedition, they camped out on Wood Creek
and South Bay, with the hope of cutting off some straggling
party of the enemy. Here they were discovered by French
scouts, and, having reason to fear an attack in force, it
was deemed most prudent to return to head-quarters at Fort
Edward.

The route proved difficult. It lay through dense forest,
impeded by fallen trees and thick undergrowth. They were
obliged to advance in Indian file, cutting a path as they
went. When night came they encamped on the bank of Clear
River. The next morning, while the others were preparing to
resume the march, Major Rogers, with a foolhardy imprudence
that was little less than criminal in their situation,
amused himself by a trial of skill with a British officer in
firing at a mark.

The result was almost fatal. Molang, the celebrated French
partisan, had hastily left Ticonderoga with five hundred
men, on hearing of the presence of this scouting party of
provincials, and was now near at hand. The sound of the
muskets gave him exact information as to the position of
their camp. Hastening forward, he laid an ambuscade on the
line of march of his foes, and awaited their approach.

Onward through the thicket came the unsuspecting
provincials. They had advanced a mile, and were on the point
of emerging from the dense growth into the more open forest,
when yells broke from the bushes on both sides of their
path, and a shower of bullets was poured into the advance
ranks.

Putnam, who led the van, quickly bade his men to return the
fire, and passed the word back for the other divisions to
hasten up. The fight soon became a hand-to-hand one. The
creek was close by, but it could not be crossed in the face
of the enemy, and Putnam bade his men to hold their ground.
A sharp fight ensued, now in the open, now from behind
trees, in Indian fashion. Putnam had discharged his piece
several times, and once more pulled trigger, with the muzzle
against the breast of a powerful Indian. His piece missed
fire. Instantly the warrior dashed forward, tomahawk in
hand, and by threat of death compelled his antagonist to
surrender. Putnam was immediately disarmed and bound to a
tree, and his captor returned to the fight.

The battle continued, one party after the other being forced
back. In the end, the movements of the struggling foes were
such