The Ida would have shot the rapid successfully, but for one important point.  It was necessary, in order to land on the right side of the whirlpool, to steer to the right of a tall, finger-like rock, that protruded from the water at the bottom of the rapids.  About a boat’s length from this rock, however, a sudden wave shot six feet into the air, throwing the Ida off its course, and drenching the crew, so that they entered the churning tureen at a speed of twenty miles an hour and almost at the middle of the stream.

“Pull to the right wall!  To the right!” roared Milton.  But he might as well have roared to the wind.  Enoch and Forrester rose from their seats and threw the whole weight of their bodies on their oars.  But the noiseless power of the whirlpool thrust the Ida mercilessly toward the center.

“Harder!” panted Milton, straining with all his might at the steering oar.  “Put your back into her, Judge!  Bend to it, Forr!”

Enoch’s breath came in gasps.  His palms, the cords of his wrists felt powerless.  His toe muscles cramped in agony.  As in a mist he saw the right wall recede, felt the boat twist under his knees like a disobedient horse.  Suddenly there was a crack as of a pistol shot behind him.  One of Forrester’s oars had snapped.  Forrester drew in the other and crawled back to add his weight to the steering oar.

“It’s up to you, Judge!” cried Milton.

They were in the center of the bay now and the boat began to spin.  For one terrible moment it seemed as if an overturn were imminent.  Out of the tail of his eyes, Enoch saw the Mary hugging the right wall.

“Judge!” shouted Milton.  “If you can back water into that rough spot six feet to your right, I think we can stop the spin.”

Enoch was too spent to reply but he gathered every resource in his body to make one more effort.  The boat slowly edged into the rough spot and for a moment the spin ceased.

“Now shoot her downstream!  We’ll have to trust to the Mary to keep us from entering the falls,” Milton shouted.

With Enoch giving all that was left in him to the oars, and Forrester and Milton steering with their united strength and skill, the Ida slowly worked toward the narrow opening which marked the head of the falls.  The crew of the Mary had landed and Harden stood on the outermost rock at the opening, swinging a coil of rope, while Agnew crawled up behind him with another.  Jonas hung onto the Mary’s rope.

Perhaps a half dozen boat lengths from the falls the whirling motion of the water ceased, and it leaped ferociously toward the narrow opening.  When the Ida felt this straight pull, Milton roared: 

“Back her, Judge, back her!  Now the rope, Harden!  You too, Ag!”

Her prow was beyond the opening before the speed of the Ida was stopped by the ropes.  A moment later her crew had dropped flat on the rocks, panting and exhausted.