Take the other end of the canoe, and we'll
lift it down gently."
He and the Onondaga lowered the canoe so slowly that it made no splash
when it took the water, and then the three lowered themselves in turn,
sinking into the stream to their throats.
"Keep close to the bank," whispered the hunter, "and whatever you do
don't make any splash as you swim."
The three were on the side of the craft next to the cliff and their
heads did not appear above its side. Then the canoe moved down the
stream at just about the speed of the current, and no human hands
appeared, nor was any human agency visible. It was just a wandering
little boat, set adrift upon the wilderness waters, a light shell, but
with an explorer's soul. It moved casually along, keeping nearest to the
cliff, the safest place for so frail a structure, hesitating two or
three times at points of rocks, but always making up its mind to go on
once more, and see where this fine but strange river led.
Luckily it was very dark by the cliff. The shadows fell there like black
blankets, and no eye yet rested upon the questing canoe which kept its
way, idly exploring the reaches of the river.
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