ve been talking it
over, and trying to settle which would be the safest, to foot it all
the way, or to go by water. We concluded, as there ain't much
difference, and the canoe will be the quickest and easiest, so we had
best keep to that plan."

"I would certainly rather go that way, Nat, if you think that the
danger is no greater."

"No, I don't think there's much difference, captain. At any rate, we
may as well go that way. Like enough, we shall have to tramp back by
the woods."

Half an hour later, the canoe put out. Although they had little fear
that any of the Indian canoes would be so far up Lake George, there was
scarce a word spoken in the boat for some hours after starting.
Jonathan was always silent, and Nat, although talkative enough when in
camp, was a man of few words when once embarked upon a serious
expedition. As for James, he had little inclination for conversation.

The enterprise was, he knew, one of extreme danger. Had it been only a
French force he was about to reconnoitre, or even one composed of
French and Canadians together, he would have thought little of it; but
he knew that the redskins would be roaming thickly in the forest, ahead
of the army, and, much as he relied upon the skill and experience of
the two scouts, he knew it would be difficult, indeed, to elude their
watchful eyes. He thought of the letters he had been writing, and
wondered whether he should return to tear them up, or whether they
would be read at home.

All the time he was thinking, he worked his paddle vigorously, and at a
high rate of speed. 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 pas