At another time, when swimming by himself in deep water, a strong ribbon, which bound his hair, became loose, twisted about his leg, and tied him “as it were neck and heels.” “I strove,” said he, “with all my strength to disengage myself, but to no purpose. No person being within call, I gave myself up for lost; but when I had ceased struggling, the ribbon loosed itself.” On another occasion, he and four other young gentlemen agreed to swim to a rocky island, five miles from the shore. Young Fletcher and one of his adventurous friends succeeded in reaching the island, but the cliff was so steep and smooth that they found it impossible to scale its heights. After swimming round the islet again and again, they concluded that their being drowned was inevitable. Immediately after, however, they discovered a place of safety; and, in due time, a boat arrived and took them home. The other three, when only half way to the island, were rescued by a boat just as they were sinking. A still more remarkable deliverance from a watery grave was the following: Fletcher was a practised swimmer, and once plunged into a river broader than the Thames at London Bridge, and very rapid. “The water was extremely rough, and poured along like a galloping horse.” He endeavoured to swim against it, but in vain, and was hurried far from home. When almost exhausted, he looked for a resting-place, feeling he must either escape from the water or sink. With great difficulty, he approached the shore, but found it “so ragged and sharp that he saw, if he attempted to land there, he would be torn to pieces.” In his direful plight, he recommenced swimming. “At last,” says he, “despairing of life, I was cheered by the sight of a fine smooth creek, into which I was swiftly carried by a violent stream. A building stood directly across it, which I then did not know to be a powder-mill. The last thing I can remember was the striking of my breast against one of the piles whereon it stood. I then lost my senses, and knew nothing more till I rose on the other side of the mill. When I came to myself, I was in a calm, safe place, perfectly well, without any soreness or weariness at all. Nothing was amiss but the distance of my clothes, the stream having driven me five miles from the place where I left them. Many persons gladly welcomed me on shore; one gentleman in particular, who said, ‘I looked at my watch when you went under the mill, and again when you rose on the other side, and the time of your being immerged among the piles was exactly twenty minutes.’”