Not until night had fallen did the party again launch their canoes on the lake.  Then they paddled for several hours until, as James imagined, they had traversed a greater distance, by some miles, than that which they had made on the previous evening.  He knew, from what he had learned during the day, that they were to land some six miles below the point where Lake George joins Lake Champlain, and where, on the opposite side, on a promontory stretching into the lake, the French were constructing their new fort.

The canoes were to be carried some seven or eight miles through the wood, across the neck of land between the two lakes, and were then to be launched again on Lake Champlain, so that, by following the east shore of that lake, they would pass Ticonderoga at a safe distance.  The halt was made as noiselessly as before, and, having hauled up the canoes, the men slept till daybreak; and then, lifting the light craft on their shoulders, started for their journey through the woods.  It was toilsome work, for the ground was rough and broken, often thickly covered with underwood.  Ridges had to be crossed and deep ravines passed, and, although the canoes were not heavy, the greatest care had to be exercised, for a graze against a projecting bough, or the edge of a rock, would suffice to tear a hole in the thin bark.

It was not until late in the afternoon that they arrived on the shores of Lake Champlain.  A fire was lighted now, the greatest care being taken to select perfectly dry sticks, for the Iroquois were likely to be scattered far and wide among the woods.  The risk, however, was far less than when in sight of the French side of Lake George.  After darkness fell, the canoes were again placed in the water, and, striking across the lake, they followed the right-hand shore.  After paddling for about an hour and a half, the work suddenly ceased.

The lake seemed to widen on their left, for they had just passed the tongue of land between the two lakes, and on the opposite shore a number of fires were seen, burning brightly on the hillside.  It was Ticonderoga they were now abreast of, the advanced post of the French.  They lingered for some time before the paddles were again dipped in water, counting the fires and making a careful note of the position.  They paddled on again until some twelve miles beyond the fort, and then crossed the lake and landed on the French shore.

But the canoes did not all approach the shore together, as they had done on the previous nights.  They halted half a mile out, and Captain Rogers went forward with his own and another canoe and landed, and it was not for half an hour that the signal was given, by an imitation of the croaking of a frog, that a careful search had ascertained the forest to be untenanted, and the landing safe.

No sooner was the signal given than the canoes were set in motion, and were soon safely hauled up on shore.  Five men went out, as usual, as scouts, and the rest, fatigued by their paddle and the hard day’s work, were soon asleep.