sing both hands
upon his throbbing head. "What shall we do, Phil Farringford? Tell me,
for I am beside myself."

"Let us take your barge and follow them."

At that moment the shrill whistle of a steamer echoed over the island.
The sound came from up the river, and I was satisfied that it was the
boat in which Ella had been a passenger, returning for her.

"It will be a sad moment to her mother when she hears what has become
of Ella," groaned Mr. Gracewood.

"Let us get into your boat as quick as possible, and meet the steamer
as she comes down," said I.

We ran to the landing-place at the lower end of the island, and
embarked in the barge. Mr. Gracewood rowed with all his might up the
stream.

"Do you see the dugouts, Phil Farringford?" he asked, after he had
pulled to the upper end of the island.

"I can just see them. They are making for Crooked River."

"Do you see the steamer?"

"She is not in sight yet."

The mouth of Crooked River was half a mile above Paradise Island. Its
head waters were in the Indian country, but the most of its course was
through a more level region than that through which the two branches of
the Fish flowed, though the mouths of the two were not more than a
couple of miles apart. Crooked River was, therefore, practicable for
boats, while there were frequent rapids in Fish Creek and its
tributaries.

"There's the steamer," said I, after we had gone a short distance
farther.

"And where are the dugouts?"

"They have gone into Crooked River."

"Can the people in the steamer see them?" asked the anxious father.

"No," I replied, sadly.

Mr. Gracewood continued to pull with all his might, and in silence,
till we came within hail of the steamer.

"Hold on!" I shouted, making violent gestures with my arms.

The captain immediately recognized me, and the wheels of the steamer
stopped. Mr. Gracewood pulled the barge up to the steamer, and we went
on board.

"Where is the young lady we left at your wood-yard?" demanded the
captain, very much excited, as I stepped on deck.

"She was captured by the Indians less than an hour ago," I replied,
breathless with emotion. "They have taken her up into Crooked River. Do
put your boat about and chase them."

"Captured by the Indians!" exclaimed the captain, aghast at the
intelligence.

"Will you put about, and follow them, captain?" interposed Mr.
Gracewood.

"He is Ella's father," I added.

"I am," said he.

The captain direc