We put our birches into the water after dark. As I stepped into our birch, Jacob said: "Good-by, Ben Comee! Never see you again. Heap Canawaugha Indians at Crown Point. Gray Wolf's friends. All want Ben Comee's scalp. Me heap sorry."
"Good-by, Jacob. Take care you don't lose your own hair."
The Indians went along the south shore, and we struck across for the other side. The enemy had several batteaux on the lake, and we paddled quietly in the dark till we reached the other shore. As it became light, we lifted our canoe from the water, and hid it in the bushes.
Rogers started off through the woods, and we followed him in a file. We climbed a mountain near Ticonderoga and had a good view of the fort. We stayed there for a couple of hours, counting the different bodies of soldiers. There seemed to be about three thousand men in the garrison,--regulars, Canadians, and Indians. Then we came down and went north to Crown Point. We ascended a hill, and looked down on the fort. It was deserted. The French had concentrated all their men at Ticonderoga.
McKinstry called out: "Look up the lake. Captain Jacob is in hot water. Those two birches that are being chased are his, certain."
"Yes; he and his men are in those two, and there are seven birches after them. About thirty men. It's a pretty slim chance he's got. Now they're firing."
Both parties were shooting at each other. As they neared the shore, we lost sight of them behind a point, but could still hear them popping away.
Rogers said: "Captain Jacob is in a fix. Presence of mind is a good thing, but absence of body is a great deal better in a case like this, and we'd better light out of here at once, and get out of the way before they run across our trail. There's too few of us to help him. We must look out for our own scalps. Hurry up."
We went back into the woods a long distance before we turned south to go to Lake George. We reached camp the next evening, and on the following day a wounded Indian came in and said that Captain Jacob and the other four Indians were captured.
There was a report that he was sent to Montreal, but it is more likely that he was tortured and sang his death-song at the stake.
At last the rafts were ready for the artillery, and on the 21st day of July the army embarked and moved down the lake in four columns. The Rangers headed the column on the right. To the left of us was a column of two brigades of regulars. The third column was mainly made up of boats and rafts carrying the artillery and provisions, and the provincials formed the fourth column.
