bread, pork and rum with a little salt with us, and followed the indians
in a direction North-and-bye-East towards the lower end of Lake
Champlain, always keeping to the high-ground with the falling snow to
fill our tracks behind us. For four days we travelled when we were well
up the west side. We had crossed numbers of trails but they were all
full of old snow and not worth regarding--still we were so far from our
post that in event of encountering any numbers of the Enemy we had but
small hope of a safe return and had therefore to observe the greatest
caution.

As we were making our way an immense painter so menaced us that we were
forced to fire our guns to dispatch him. He was found to be very old,
his teeth almost gone, and was in the last stages of starvation. We were
much alarmed at this misadventure, fearing the Enemy might hear us or
see the ravens gathering above, so we crossed the Lake that night on
some new ice to blind our trail, where I broke through in one place and
was only saved by Shanks, who got hold of my eel-skin que, thereby
having something to pull me out with. We got into a deep gully, and
striking flint made a fire to dry me and I did not suffer much
inconvenience.

The day following we took a long circle and came out on the lower end of
the Lake, there laying two days in ambush, watching the Lake for any
parties coming or going. Before dark a Mo-higon came in from watch
saying that men were coming down the Lake. We gathered at the point and
saw seven of the Enemy come slowly on. There were three indians two
Canadians and a French officer. Seeing they would shortly pass under our
point of land we made ready to fire, and did deliver one fire as they
came nigh, but the guns of our Mohigons failed to explode, they being
old and well nigh useless, so that all the damage we did was to kill one