he rock, then with a
cry he leaped with the fierce agility of an animal far out into the
swirl of the cataract! For an instant he was visible in the downward
plunge of the water. Another instant and with a heavy splash he
disappeared in the deep pool under the fall!

Wabi and Mukoki had seen the desperate leap and the young Indian
was beside the pool before Rod had recovered from his horrified
astonishment. For centuries the water of the chasm stream had been
tumbling into this pool wearing it deeper and deeper each year, until
the water in it was over a man's head. In width it was not more than a
dozen feet.

"Watch for him! He'll drown if we don't get him out," shouted Wabi.

Rod leaped to the edge of the pool, with Mukoki between him and
Wabigoon. Ready to spring into the cold depths at the first sign of
the old man's gray head or struggling arms the three stood with every
muscle ready for action. A second, two seconds, five seconds passed,
and there was no sign of him. Rod's heart began to beat with drum-like
fierceness. Ten seconds! A quarter of a minute! He looked at Wabigoon.
The young Indian had thrown off his caribou-skin coat; his eyes, as he
turned them for a moment toward Rod, flashed back the white youth's
fear.

"I'm going to dive for him!"

In another instant he had plunged head foremost into the pool.
Mukoki's coat fell to the ground. He crouched forward until it seemed
he must topple from the stone upon which he stood. Another fifteen
seconds and Wabigoon's head appeared above the water, and the old
warrior gave a shout.

"Me come!"

He shot out and disappeared in a huge splash close to Wabi. Rod stood
transfixed, filled with a fear that was growing in him at every breath
he drew. He saw the convulsions of the water made by the two Indians,
who were groping about below the surface. Wabigoon came up again for
breath, then Mukoki. It seemed to him that an age had passed, and he
felt no hope. John Ball was dead!

Not for a moment now did he doubt the identity of the mad hunter. The
strange, wistful light that had replaced the glare in the old man's
eyes when he heard his own name called to him had spoken more than
words. It was John Ball! And he was dead! For a third time, a fourth,
and a fifth Mukoki and Wabigoon came up for air, and the fifth time
they dragged themselves out upon the rocks that edged the pool. Mukoki
spoke no word but ran back to the camp and threw a great armful of dry
fuel