stealing down the great river, under the shadow of the bank. It
contained two Indians; but I was thrilled with excitement when I
discovered a young lady seated between them.

It was Ella Gracewood.

I was in a clump of trees, where I had fastened Firefly, and the
savages could not see me. I unslung my rifle, and satisfied myself that
it was in condition for use. Breathless with interest and anxiety, I
watched the dugout. I realized that the Indians had doubled on the
soldiers in pursuit of them by returning to their boats, and coming
down Crooked River. They evidently intended to ascend the Fish River.
Aware that the troops were in hot pursuit of them, I could understand
that their only solicitude was to escape with their prisoner, whose
presence was a sort of guarantee of their own safety.

I hardly dared to breathe, lest the savages should discover me. I
crouched behind a bush, and watched the progress of the enemy, as they
rounded the point, and paddled up the Fish River. I could not make up
my mind what to do. If I went up to the camp to inform the soldiers of
what I had seen, I should lose sight of the dugout. I expected every
moment to see the other two Indians come round the point in the second
dugout, but they did not appear.

As the savages ascended the stream, I crawled out of my hiding-place.
Mr. Gracewood's barge had been left at the lauding by the steamer, and
I launched it as the dugout disappeared beyond a bend in the creek. I
rowed with the utmost caution up the stream, fearful that the quick ear
of the Indians might detect the sound of the oars. I took the
precaution to muffle the oars, using an old coat I found in the boat
for the purpose. At the bend where I had lost sight of the enemy, I
held the barge by an overhanging branch, until I had satisfied myself
that it was safe to proceed. The dugout was not in sight, and I
continued to pull up the stream, pausing at every turn to take an
observation.

As it was not safe for me to go forward while the dugout could be seen,
I had not obtained another view of it when I reached the junction of
the Big and Little Fish Creeks. As the soldiers were between the former
and Crooked River, I knew the fugitives would not take that branch, and
I confidently pulled up the Little Fish. Two miles above the junction
the rapids commenced, and boats could go no farther in this direction.
Unfortunately the stream was too straight to suit my purpose, and
seeing the dug