The other, a friendly Mohawk, was taken prisoner, and Major Putnam afterward saw him in Canada.
On the way back to Fort Edward, Putnam and his men were fired upon by a scouting party of Provincials, who mistook them for Frenchmen; but they were quickly undeceived when the doughty major ordered his men, "in a stentorophonick tone," to advance and give a good account of themselves.
Putnam's "stentorophonick" voice--as his original biographer styles it--was well known to all the army, having been heard many times rising above the din of battle, and always in the forefront of the fighting.

So the commanding officer of the scouting party recognized it at once and cried out that those approaching were friends.

The volley had killed one man only, and "Old Wolf Putnam," enraged, indignant, and yet sarcastic, said to the opposing officer, "Friends or enemies, you all deserve to be hanged for not killing more, when you had so fair a shot!" He had in mind, of course, the numbers he and his men had slain, that night preceding, when six or seven times their own force had fallen before their unerring aim.
Having suffered so considerably at Putnam's hands, the French and Indians, as may be imagined, were constantly on the watch to take their arch enemy at a disadvantage.

Not many weeks after the unsuccessful attack upon Ticonderoga--to which allusion will presently be made--it appeared as though the savages were about to accomplish their purpose, for they surprised him, together with a small body of his men, on the left bank of the Hudson, with the river between them and the fort.

The party of Indians was too strong to be successfully resisted, it was impossible to cross the river without being shot, while below lay a quarter-mile stretch of rapids through which a boat had never been sent without disaster.