The light canoe bounded noiselessly over the water, impelled by three vigorous pairs of arms.
When they approached the narrows connecting Lake George with Lake Champlain, the boat's head was directed towards the shore, for they could not get past Ticonderoga before daylight broke; and it was likely that a good watch would be kept, in the narrows, by the enemy; and it would be dangerous to try to effect a landing there.

The canoe was carried ashore, and hidden in some bushes, and all lay down to sleep.
When day broke, Nat rose and went down to the water to see that, in landing, they had left no mark upon the shore, which might betray them to the eye of a passing redskin.

Going down on his hands and knees, he obliterated every sign of their footprints, raised the herbage upon which they had trodden, cut short to the ground such stalks as they had bruised or broken in their passage, and then, when confident that all was safe, he returned to his camp.

When it again became dark, the canoe was carried down and replaced in the water, and they continued their passage.

James had, at Nat's request, laid by his paddle.
"You paddle wonderfully well, captain.