ost dire happening, to him personally, was being made a
prisoner by the Indians.

Before proceeding to narrate these occurrences, however, let us take
notice of two stirring incidents in his career, which further illustrate
his cool daring and his readiness of resource in the face of danger. In
the first instance, he was sent by his superior officer to a place
known as Wood Creek, in order to make such observations as were
possible, and also to intercept any parties of the enemy that might
chance to pass that way. With the intuition of a born strategist, he
posted his force on the bank of the creek where it jutted boldly into
the water, and there constructed a parapet of stone about thirty feet in
length, and masked it with young pine-trees in such a manner that they
appeared to be a part of the natural forest growth.

The provisions of the party running short, and a big buck opportunely
appearing, Putnam departed from a rule he himself had always insisted
upon--of never firing a gun when waiting for an enemy or in the enemy's
country, and shot him. The result was as he might have anticipated. He
and his men got the deer and replenished their stores; but the wily
leader of the Indian hostiles, Marin, heard the report, and came with
his men in search of the cause of it. He came at night, so cautiously
and silently that some of the canoes which held his men, about five
hundred in number, were abreast the fort before the sentinels
discovered them.

The creek at this point was scarcely a hundred feet in width, the banks
about fifteen or twenty feet in height. A full moon was shining in the
heavens, illumining spaces of water here and there, so that the oncoming
Indians were plainly visible to the men behind the parapet, there
awaiting, with fast-beating hearts, the signal to fire. At a critical
moment, one of the nervous soldiers accidentally struck his firelock
against a stone, and the sound being heard by the foe, in an instant
came the watchword for silence and caution--"Owish." The canoes in the
van halted, and the others coming up, they were soon huddled together
right in front of the breastwork. This was the moment awaited by Putnam,
who gave the signal for his men to fire by setting the example with his
own musket.

The plunging fire, directed into the midst of the canoes, committed
terrible execution. It was returned by the enemy; but being caught at a
disadvantage, and unable to perceive their foes, concealed a