THE FALLS FIGHT. 13
A case of individual suffering occurred
in the expedition led by Capt. Turner,
which deserves notice. Mr. Jonathan
Wells of Hatfield, one of the twenty who
remained in the rear when Turner began
his march from the Falls, soon after mounting his horse, received a shot in one of his
thighs, which had previously been fractured
and badly healed, and another shot wounded his horse. With much difficulty he
kept his saddle, and after several narrow
escapes, joined the main body just at the
time it separated into several parties, as
has been related. Attaching himself to one
that was making towards the swamp, on
the left, and perceiving the enemy in that
direction, he altered his route and joined
another party flying in a different direction.
Unable to keep up with the party, he was
soon left alone, and not long after fell in
with one Jones, who was also wounded.
The woods being thick and the day cloudy,
they soon got bewildered, and Wells lost
his companion, and after wandering in various directions, accidentally struck Green
River, and proceeding up the stream, arrived at a place since called the Country
Farms, in the northerly part of Greenfield.
Passing the river and attempting to ascend
an abrupt hill, bordering the interval west,
he fell from his horse exhausted. After
lying senseless some time, he revived and
found his faithful animal standing by him.
Making him fast to a tree, he again lay himself down to rest, but finding that he should
not be able to remount, the turned the horse
loose, and making use of his gun as a crutch
hobbled up the river, directly opposite the
course he ought to have taken. His progress was slow and painful, and being much
annoyed by mosquitos, towards night he
struck up a fire, which soon spread in all
directions, and with some difficulty he
avoided the flames. Now new fears arose;
the fire, he conjectured, might guide the
Indians to the spot, and he would be sacrificed to their fury. Under these impressions, he divested himself of his ammunition, that it might not fall into their
hands, bound up his thigh with a handkerchief, staunched the blood, and composing
himself as much as possible, soon fell into
a sleep. A dream suggesting to him that
he was travelling from, instead of to Hatfield, he reversed his course, and through
time brought up at the upper part of Greenfield, and soon found a foot path which led
him to the trail of his retreating comrades.
This he pursued to Deerfield River, which,
with much difficulty, he forded by the aid
of his gun. Ascending the bank he laid
himself down to rest, and being overcome
with fatigue, he fell asleep, but soon waking he discovered an Indian making toward
him in a canoe. Unable to flee, and finding his situation desperate, he presented
his gun, then wet and filled with sand and
gravel, as if in the act of firing. The Indian, leaving his own gun, instantly leaped
from his canoe into the water, escaped to
the opposite shore and disappeared. Wells
now concluded he should by others who he
knew were but a short distance down the
river, but determining if possible to elude
them, he gained an adjacent swamp, and
secreted himself under a pile of drift wood.
The Indians were soon heard in search of
of him, traversing the swamp in all directions, and passing over the drift wood; but
lying close, he fortunately avoided discovery, and after they had given up the
search and left the place, he continued his
painful march through Deerfield meadows.
Hunger now began to prey upon him, and
looking about he accidently discovered
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