Haw, wo, haw.

Yo-hoi-eest," was somewhat mellowed by the widening space, Bates stepped into the boat, and, pushing off, laboured alone to propel her back across the lake.
It took him longer to get back now that he was single-handed.

The current of the lake towards its outlet tended to push the great clumsy scow against the shore.

He worked his craft with one oar near the stern, but very often he was obliged to drop it and push out from shore with his pole.

It was arduous, but all sense of the cold, bleak weather was lost, and the interest and excitement of the task were refreshing.