o paddle as
noiselessly as fish, and trust to our luck."

Having crossed the lake to the left shore, they entered the narrows.
The paddles were dipped so quietly into the water, that even James
could scarcely hear their sound. Every few strokes the scouts stopped
paddling altogether, and sat listening intently. They were keeping
close to the trees, so close that, at times, it seemed to James that,
by stretching out his hands, he could touch the bushes.

After an hour's paddling they stopped longer than usual.

"What is it?" James whispered in Jonathan's ear, for Nat had taken the
bow paddle.

"There are men ahead," the scout whispered back. "We heard them speak
just now."

Presently the boat began to move again, but so quietly, that it was
only by looking at the dark masses of the boughs, that stretched out
overhead, that James knew the boat was in motion. Jonathan now crouched
in the bottom of the boat, and placed his hand on Nat's shoulder as a
sign for him to do the same. The time seemed endless to James, as he
lay there. It was too dark, under the trees, for him even to see the
outline of Nat's figure. The boat was, he was sure, moving; for
occasionally, as he lay on his back, it grew lighter overhead, as they
passed under openings in the trees.

Suddenly his heart gave a bound, and he nearly started, for a guttural
voice spoke, seemingly within a few feet of the canoe. He placed his
hand on his rifle, in readiness to sit up and fire, but all was still
again. It was a passing remark, made by one redskin to another; in a
canoe, for the sound was to his right. Another long period passed, and
then Jonathan sat up and took to his paddle again, and James judged
that the danger was over.

Raising his head, he could see nothing except the vague light of the
sheet of water on his right. The boat was still keeping close under the
trees, on the left shore of the lake, and he lay back again, and dozed
off to sleep. He was awoke by Jonathan touching his foot.

"You can take your paddle now, captain."

He sat up at once, and looked round. They were far out now, on a broad
sheet of water. There were some faint lights, as of fires burning low,
high up to the left behind them; and he knew that they had already
passed Ticonderoga, and were making their way along Lake Champlain.
They paddled for some hours, and then landed on the right-hand side of
the lake.

"We are not likely to be disturbed here," Nat said, as they li