The restraint which was put upon me by this military life was not
to my liking, and I was in a mortal dread of the whippings which men
were constantly receiving for breaches of the discipline. I felt that I
could not survive the shame of being trussed up and lashed before men's
eyes, but I did also have a great mind to fight the French which kept me
along. One day came an order to prepare a list of officers and men who
were willing to go scouting and be freed from other duty, and after some
time I got my name put down, for I was thought too young, but I said I
knew the woods, had often been to Andiatirocte (or Lake George as it had
then become the fashion to call it) and they let me go. It was dangerous
work, for reports came every day of how our Rangers suffered up country
at the hands of the cruel savages from Canada, but it is impossible to
play at bowls without meeting some rubs. A party of us proceeded up
river to join Captain Rogers at Fort Edward, and we were put to camp on
an Island. This was in October of the year 1757. We found the Rangers
were rough borderers like ourselvs, mostly Hampshire men well used to
the woods and much accustomed to the Enemy. They dressed in the fashion
of those times in skin and grey duffle hunting frocks, and were well
armed. Rogers himself was a doughty man and had a reputation as a bold
Ranger leader. The men declaired that following him was sore service,
but that he most always met with great success.
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