Wabi was constantly on the alert. At no time could they tell when to
expect the attacks of the unseen forces below. Ten feet ahead the
water might be running as smooth as oil, then--a single huge bubble,
as if a great fish had sent up a gasp of air--and in an instant it
would be boiling like a small maelstrom.

Rod noticed that each time they were caught near one of these some
unseen power seemed sucking them down, and that at those times the
canoe would settle several inches deeper than when they were in calm
water. The discovery thrilled him, and he wondered what one of the big
eruptions out in mid-stream would do to them if they were caught in
it. Other perils were constantly near them. Floating logs and masses
of brush and other debris swept down with the flood, and Wabi's
warning cries of "right," "left," and "back" came with such frequency
that Rod's arms ached with the mighty efforts which he made with his
paddle in response to them. Again the stream would boil with such fury
ahead of them that Mukoki would put in to shore, and a portage would
be made beyond the danger point. Five times during the day were the
canoe and its contents carried in this manner, so that including all
time lost an average of not more than two miles an hour was made. When
camp was struck late that afternoon, however, Mukoki figured that they
had covered half the distance up the Ombabika.

The following day's progress was even slower. With every mile the
stream became narrower and swifter. The treacherous upheavals caused
by undercurrents no longer harassed the gold seekers, but logs and
debris swept down with greater velocity. Several times the frail canoe
was saved from destruction only by the quick and united action of the
three. They worked now like a well-regulated machine, engineered by
Wabigoon, whose sharp eyes were always on the alert for danger ahead.