Holding the rope with which they tied their canoe, Wabigoon had taken a desperate chance.

His quick mind had leaped like a flash of powder to their last hope, and at the crucial moment, just as the momentum of the birch bark gave way to the whirling forces of the pool, he had jumped a good seven feet toward shore, and had found bottom! Another twelve inches of water under him and all would have been lost.
Wabigoon stood panting and dripping wet, and in the moonlight his face was as white as the tub-like spot of foam out in the center of the maelstrom.
"That's what you call going to kingdomcome and getting out again!" he gasped.

"Muky, that was the closest shave we've ever had! It has your avalanche beaten to a frazzle!" Mukoki was dragging the canoe upon the pebbly shore, and still overcome by the suddenness of all that had happened Rod went to his assistance.
The adventurers now discovered themselves in a most interesting situation.

The night had indeed been one of curious and thrilling happenings for them, and here was a pretty climax to it all! They had escaped the mad hunter by running into the almost fatal grip of the whirlpool, and now they had escaped the perils of that seething death-trap by plunging into a tiny rock-bound prison which seemed destined to hold them for all time, or at least until the floods of spring subsided.

Straight above them, and shutting them in entirely, rose precipitous rock walls.