Shanks caught me by the arm saying "we must run, that they had all died
of the small-pox," and run we did lustilly for a good long distance.
After this manner did many Indians die in the wilderness from that
dreadful disease, and I have since supposed that the last living indian
had kept firing his gun at the wolves until he had no longer strength to
reload his piece.

After this Shanks and I had become great friends for he had liked the
way I had conducted myself on this expedition. He was always ar-guying
with me to cut off my eel-skin que which I wore after the fashion of the
Dutch folks, saying that the Canada indians would parade me for a
Dutchman after that token was gone with my scalp. He had .... (writing
obliterated).

Early that winter I was one of 150 Rangers who marched with Captain
Rogers against the Enemy at Carrillion. The snow was not deep at
starting but it continued to snow until it was heavy footing and many of
the men gave out and returned to Fort Edward, but notwithstanding my
exhaustion I continued on for six days until we were come to within six
hundred yards of Carrillion Fort. The captain had made us a speech in
which he told us the points where we were to rendevoux if we were broke
in the fight, for further resistence until night came on, when we could
take ourselvs off as best we might. I was with the advance guard. We lay
in ambush in some fallen timber quite close to a road, from which we
could see the smoke from the chimneys of the Fort and the Gentries
walking their beats. A French soldier was seen to come from the Fort and
the word was passed to let him go bye us, as he came down the road. We
lay perfectly still not daring to breathe, and though he saw nothing he
stopped once and seemed undecided as to going on, but suspecting nothing
he continued and was captured by our people below, for prisoners were