The Indian who was steering heard and was doing his best to swerve the craft about, but he was having little luck. The terrible rapids was reluctant to yield to the puny efforts of a mere human being.
Water was now dashing into the boat, and if this were to continue there could be but one outcome—tragedy!
This time it was Bob who came to the rescue.
Pushing the Indian aside, he jumped into the seat and caught hold of the paddle, at the same time giving the rudder a swift turn about.
There was a roar and a swish, and the next moment the boat had swerved around and was facing the current head first, leaving the treacherous whirlpool far behind.
“Great work, son!” panted Mr. Holton. “You saved the day that time.”
It was now evident that the worst was over, for the current was gradually losing its terrible force. Slowly but surely they were pulling away from the perilous rapids, and if their good fortune continued, they would soon be in calm waters.
“Unless,” said Joe soberly, “we strike another whirlpool.”
But no other whirlpool barred their way, and soon they were safely riding the calm ripples farther downstream.
For the first time they were given a chance to relax. Their faces were red from exertion; their bodies were dripping with perspiration. In short, they were greatly fatigued.