It was utterly impossible; I was swept along backward almost as fast as I had been traveling before.

But what the effort did do was to bring me face-up-stream, and so I caught sight of King clinging to a pole and being bobbed under every time the weight of water caused the pole to duck.

I managed to cling to a pole myself, although like King it ducked me repeatedly, and it was perfectly evident that neither of us would be alive in the next ten minutes unless a boat should come or I should produce enough brawn and brain for two of us.
And there was no boat in sight.
So between ducks I yelled to King to let go and drift down toward me.

He did it; and that, I believe, is the utmost test of cold courage to which I have ever seen any man subjected; for even a strong swimmer becomes panic-stricken when he learns he is no longer master of his element.
King had the self-control and pluck to lie still and drift down on me like a corpse, and I let go the pole in the nick of time to seize him as his head went under.
Followed a battle royal.

Fight how I might, I could not keep both of our heads out of the water more than half the time, and King very soon lost the little breath that was left in him.