For the first time the power of speech came to him.
"Shall we jump ?" he shouted.
"Hang to the canoe." Wabi fairly shrieked the words, and yet as he spoke he drew himself half erect, as if about to leap into the flood.

The momentum gathered in its swift rush between the rocks had carried their frail craft almost to the outer edge of the deadly trap, and as this momentum ceased and the canoe yielded to the sucking forces of the maelstrom the young Indian shrieked out his warning again.
"Hang to the canoe!" The words were scarcely out of his mouth when he stood erect and launched himself like an animal into the black depths toward shore.
With a terrified cry Rod rose to his knees.

In another instant he would have plunged recklessly after Wabi, but Mukoki's voice sounding behind him, snarling in its fierceness, stopped him.
"Hang to canoe!" There came a jerk.

The bow of the canoe swung inward and the stern whirled so quickly that Rod, half kneeling, nearly lost his balance.
In that instant he turned his face and saw the old warrior standing, as Wabigoon had done before him, and as Mukoki leaped there came for a third time that warning cry: "Hang to canoe!" And Rod hung.

He knew that for some reason those commands were meant for him, and him alone; he knew that the desperate plunges of his comrades were not inspired by cowardice or fear, but not until the birch bark ground upon the shore and he tumbled out in safety did he fully comprehend what had happened.