Determined to know whether the old wolf was dead, Putnam, at the end of a few minutes, again crept into the den. When his companions obeyed the twitch of the rope a few minutes later, and drew him out a second time, they thought he was very heavy; but when he got out they found he was dragging by the leg the biggest gray wolf they had ever seen!
Putnam had taken part in the last French and Indian War. The year after the French took and destroyed Fort William Henry, he was with a British army that encamped on the same ground; and when this army advanced to attack Ticonderoga, his company led the way. While they were thus marching through the woods, the French surprised them; and had it not been that Rogers came to their rescue with more men, Putnam and his detachment would have fallen. At another time, we are told, Fort Edward took fire, and the powder magazine was in great danger. But Putnam fought the flames inch by inch, putting them out barely in time to prevent the explosion of the whole store of ammunition.
During this French and Indian War Putnam once volunteered to mount guard at a place where the sentinel was always found dead in the morning. While watching there, he heard a strange noise in the bushes, and saw what he took in the darkness for a wild pig or a bear. He fired at it without a moment's delay, and, on drawing near, found he had killed an Indian, who, covered by a bearskin, and imitating the actions of an animal, had always managed to get near enough to the sentinels to kill them.
Another time, when Putnam and Rogers were sent to recapture some baggage wagons, the latter spent the noon hour in target practice, although warned it was dangerous. The Indians, guided by the sound of firing, fell upon the British unawares, and seizing Putnam bound him to a tree.
For a while Putnam found himself between the fire of his own party and that of the Indians; and when the latter were driven from the battlefield, they took him away with them. After torturing him in many ways, breaking his jaw and cutting open his cheek, the Indians tied him to a tree and began to roast him alive.
The fire was raging around him when a sudden and violent shower put it out. But as soon as the rain was over the savages rekindled it. They would have succeeded in roasting Putnam alive, had not a French officer come up just then, rushed into the fire, cut him loose, and thus saved him from a horrible death.
Burned, gashed, disfigured, and bowed down by weakness, Putnam was taken to Montreal, where the other prisoners were careful not to tell who he was. So the French, thinking him a poor old man who would never have the strength to fight again, gladly exchanged him for one of their captive soldiers.
Putnam then went on fighting again till the war was over. He took an active part in the capture of Montreal in 1760, and in that of Havana two years later.
A British general once showed him a French vessel on Lake Ontario, saying it must be destroyed. Putnam immediately volunteered to destroy it, and rowing out in the dark, he secretly drove wedges behind the rudder. As the vessel could no longer obey its helm, it was soon driven ashore and wrecked.