"Perhaps they think we don't dare try the river, and in this case as in most others the boldest way is the best.

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.