Braddock had driven them into rank by beating them with the flat of his sword, only to see them shot down like sheep.

Blunders such as this had marked the whole course of the war; and misfortune after misfortune had attended the English arms upon the mainland, although in Acadia they had been more successful.
These things Stark and his little band heard from the Dutch of Albany; they also heard that the English were encamped at the southern end of Lake George, at Forts Edward and William Henry, their commander being John Winslow, whose name was becoming known and respected as that of a brave and humane soldier, who had carried through a difficult piece of business in Acadia with as much consideration and kindliness as possible.
Now he was in command of the English force watching the movements of the French at Ticonderoga; here also were Rogers and his Rangers to be found.

They had marched into Winslow's camp, it was said, some few months earlier, proffering their services; and there they had since remained, scouting up and down the lake upon skates or snowshoes, snatching away prisoners from the Indian allies, or from the very walls of the fort itself, and intercepting provisions sent down Lake Champlain for the use of the French.
Details of these escapades on the part of the Rangers were not known in Albany; but rumours of Rogers' intrepidity reached them from time to time, and Stark and his band were fired anew by the desire to join themselves to this bold leader, and to assist him in his task of harassing the enemy, and bringing assistance of all sorts into the English camp.
Bidding adieu to the Dutch, who had received them kindly, and now sent them away with a sufficiency of provisions to last them several days, they skimmed away still to the northward on their snowshoes.

They had taken directions as to what route to pursue in order to reach Fort Edward, and thence to pass on to Fort William Henry; but the heavy snowfall obliterated landmarks, and they presently came to the conclusion that they had missed the way, and had travelled too far north already.
"Then we must keep in a westerly direction," quoth Stark, as they sat in council together over their fire at night; "we cannot fail thus to strike the lake at last, and that, if frozen hard, can be our highway.

At the southern end is the fort William Henry; at the northern outlet is the French fort with the name of Ticonderoga." This deflection in direction being agreed to, the party lay down to sleep--Charles Angell offering to act as sentry, as he frequently did.
Since the tragedy which had wrecked his life, Charles had seldom been able to sleep quietly at night.