With long stout poles they then pushed off from the shore.
Men and oxen were reflected in the quiet water.
They were not bound on a long or perilous voyage.

The boat was merely to act as a ferry round a precipitous cliff where the shore was impassable, and across the head of the gushing river that formed the lake's outlet, for the only road through the hills lay along the further shore of this stream.
The men kept the boat in shallow water, poling and rowing by turns.
There was a thin coating of ice, like white silk, forming on the water.
As they went, Bates often looked anxiously where the log house stood on the slope above him, fearing to see the girl come running frantic to the water's edge, but he did not see her.

The door of the house remained shut, and no smoke rose from its chimney.

They had left the childish old woman sitting on the edge of her bed; Bates knew that she would be in need of fire and food, yet he could not wish that the girl should wake yet.

"Let her sleep," he muttered to himself.