Then with three or four bounds he was at the water's edge, leaping into the canoe, just as Tayoga settled himself into place there, and, seizing a paddle, pushed away with powerful shoves.
Robert nearly upset the canoe, but the Onondaga quickly made it regain its balance, and then they were out on the lake under the kindly veil of the night.

The fugitive said nothing, he knew it was no time to speak, because Tayoga's powerful back was bending with his mighty efforts and the bullets were pattering in the water behind them.

It was luck that the canoe was a large one, partaking more of the nature of a boat, as Robert could remain concealed on the bottom without tipping it over, while the Onondaga continued to put all his nervous power and skill into his strokes.

It was equally fortunate, also, that the night had come and that the dusk was thick, as it distracted yet further the hasty aim of the French and Indians on shore.

One bullet from a French rifle grazed Robert's shoulder, another was deflected from Tayoga's paddle without striking it from his hand, but in a few minutes they were beyond the range of those who stood on the bank, although lead continued to fall in the water behind them.
"Now you can rise, Dagaeoga," said the Onondaga, "and use the extra paddle that I took the precaution to stow in the boat.