Placing a little greased linsey rag, about half an inch square, over the muzzle, he laid a small lead bullet on it, and with the ramrod began to push the ball into the barrel.
A slight rustle behind him, which sounded to him like the gliding of a rattlesnake over the leaves, caused him to start and turn round.
But he was too late.

A crushing blow on the head from a club in the hand of a brawny Indian laid him senseless on the ground.
When Isaac regained his senses he felt a throbbing pain in his head, and then he opened his eyes he was so dizzy that he was unable to discern objects clearly.

After a few moments his sight returned.
When he had struggled to a sitting posture he discovered that his hands were bound with buckskin thongs.

By his side he saw two long poles of basswood, with some strips of green bark and pieces of grapevine laced across and tied fast to the poles.

Evidently this had served as a litter on which he had been carried.