inued, although no party as large as that
which had attacked the home of the Merrills was seen. The plowmen in the
fields, the men cutting the timber, and those who separated from their
fellows while hunting game were continually in danger.

The determination of the whites was as great as that of the Indians,
and although every one was anxious, no one thought of withdrawing from
the settlement.

To Daniel Boone himself there came a little later an experience almost
as thrilling as that which had befallen Mrs. Merrill.

Among the new families was one named Callaway. In this family there was
a girl of nearly the same age as Daniel's Boone's daughter Jemima. One
morning, early in the summer, the girls, taking the one canoe which was
kept near the fort, paddled out upon the river.

"Do not go more than one hundred feet above or below the fort," warned
Daniel Boone, who stood on the bank watching the girls. Both promised,
and soon in their light-hearted way were paddling the canoe back and
forth from shore to shore.

Satisfied that the girls were well within the protection they needed,
Daniel Boone returned to his labours and no one was left upon the bank
to watch them.

As the sport continued, and before either of the girls was aware of the
fact, the light canoe had drifted beyond the points which had been
designated by the scout as the limits of safety. Discovering some
flowers along the shore, they pushed the little craft in among the tall
rushes while they plucked the blossoms they were seeking. The canoe was
well within the rushes and concealed, as the girls thought, from the
sight of any one on the bank.

Suddenly the younger girl, emitting a piercing shriek, turned to Jemima
Boone, and exclaimed: "Look there! Oh, look there!"

As Jemima sharply turned about she saw, creeping through the rushes and
concealed from the sight of any one on the shore, a huge Shawnee
warrior, who already had seized the painter of the little craft.

Scream followed scream when the Indian began to pull the canoe toward
him. In a moment he was joined by several of his dusky comrades. The
canoe was drawn to the shore and the girls, prisoners of the savages,
were dragged up the bank.

CHAPTER XVII

THE PURSUIT

The screams of the terrified girls were plainly heard at the fort. A
little company of frightened women and frantic men quickly assembled
upon the bank, but in spite of the piteous appeals it was too late to
help t