And what had befallen Tom and the children, on the fearful day of their
sail up the beautiful stream? Bessie's eyes had not deceived her when,
in one agonized glance, she had seen Tom dash into the forest bearing
Rudolph and Kitty in his arms, followed by yelling savages. The chase,
however, was a short one; before Tom had advanced many steps his
pursuers closed upon him, and tearing the children from his embrace,
bound his arms close to his body with deerskin thongs. The children,
screaming with terror, struggled in the arms of the Indians and called
frantically upon Tom for help; but he, poor fellow, could only turn his
pitying eyes upon them and beg them to remain quiet.

"It'll save you from worse things," he groaned. By this time several
savages, darting from near hiding-places, had surrounded them and Tom
abandoned all hope of escape. Bessie's screams had died away, and he
felt sure that she had been killed by the Indian who had first rushed
upon her.

After holding a moment's council the Indians began a rapid march,
hurrying Tom along with them, and almost dragging the terrified
children--who, each with a tiny hand in the grip of a painted warrior,
ran panting by their sides. Hurrying on, faster and faster, until even
Tom was nearly out of breath, the savages, without exchanging a word
among themselves, continued their flight (for such it seemed), carefully
avoiding even the breaking of a twig, or anything that could furnish a
clue to those who might come in pursuit.

Soon Kitty, who could run no more, was snatched angrily from the ground
and carried, like a bundle, under the great muscular arm of one of the