As the raft was being swept into the whirlpool, Ike and Wah Shin sent up a shriek of alarm that rose high above the roar of the waters, and Maj crouched down lower on the blankets and moaned piteously.
Ulna sat in his accustomed place. He did not make a movement, nor did the expression of his face change as they were being whirled to what seemed certain death.
As nothing could be done to avert the impending catastrophe, Sam uttered a prayer, drew in his pole to save himself from being swept off and then sat as calmly and stoically down as if he were a young brave.
There was a central vortex about which the waters swept with the speed of a mill-stream, and for this point—as if forced on by an irresistible power, the raft plunged.
It seemed like going down a hill on a sled. Once fairly under way there was nothing to stop it.
With one quick glance from the center of the whirlpool to the pillars piercing the sky, Sam closed his eyes expecting the next instant would be the last.
But instead of rushing down to death, he was called back to an interest in his surroundings by feeling a peculiarly soothing, swinging sensation in the raft.
He opened his eyes and looked about him, and to his unutterable surprise they were being swept about the mighty whirlpool, like a ball at the end of a string in a strong man's hand.
Nearer and nearer to the center, until it seemed that the fraction of a second must bring the fatal plunge, and then the raft would be suddenly flung to the outer edge of the whirlpool again.
"Golly!" exclaimed Ike, as he looked about him and winked very fast, "dis am curus."