With Boone on the Frontier by Edward Stratemeyer

It filled Joe's heart with a nameless dread to see his sister being thus carried off by an Indian he knew was as cruel as he was bloodthirsty.

"I must save her," was his thought. "I must save her, no matter what the cost!"

In haste he shoved his canoe back to the bank and called softly to Harry.

"What do you want, Joe? " asked his chum, in an equally low tone of voice.

In a few hurried words the situation was explained. "Tell father I have gone after the pair," Joe added.

Without more conversation, Joe started his canoe forward again, and was soon on the river and in pursuit of the other canoe, which was now a hundred yards or more ahead.

By the aid of the torch in the bow he kept Long Knife's craft in view with ease, while his own canoe was invisible to the red man on account of the rain and the darkness.

As he crept closer Joe could hear his sister begging piteously of the Indian to let her go back to Mrs. Parsons.

"Please, please, let me go back! " cried Harmony. "Oh, have you no heart?"

"White maiden be quiet," growled Long Knife. "Can talk much after she is in Long Knife's wigwam."

"I do not want to go to your wigwam," moaned the girl. "I want to go back to the lady I was with."

"Bah! the old Quaker woman does not count," was Long Knife's comment. "She is not as good as the squaw that shall take care of the white maiden."

"I don't want any squaw to take care of me," answered Harmony, and then fell to weeping silently.

So far Joe had formed no plan of rescue. Long Knife had dropped his hold of the girl and was now paddling vigorously with both hands, and it was all the young pioneer could do to keep him in sight.

When about half a mile of the river had been covered, they came to a spot where there was something of a lake. Here Long Knife paddled with less speed and Joe came closer rapidly.

In the canoe the youth had the bow and arrows made for him by Pep Frost, and also a stout club he had cut for himself.

"I wish I had a gun instead of the bow," he thought. "I'd soon knock him over as he deserves."

Picking up the bow and an arrow Joe adjusted the latter with care. Harmony had sunk to the bottom of the canoe, while Long Knife stood upright, trying, by the flare of the torch, to find a suitable landing.

The canoes were now not over a hundred feet apart. With a strong use of the paddle the young pioneer sent his craft thirty or forty feet closer. Then he leaped to the bow and aimed the arrow with all the accuracy at his command.

Whiz! the arrow shot forth, and had the object at which it was aimed not moved at that instant Long Knife would have received the shaft straight under the shoulder blade. But just then the canoe bumped on a part of the bank that was under water, and the Indian pitched slightly forward, which caused the shaft to graze his shoulder and his neck.