Max could scarcely get enough breath to speak, but even then he was more than delighted. There was the African whirling round in a smaller circle, while the boat was going equally fast in a larger one around him. “Jewilikins! what was that?” Even Max turned sick when he knew what it was. The boat had struck Klatchman such a blow on the head that the poor creature’s brains were spattered all over the boat. “Good-by, Max!” gasped Ibrahim. “Good-by, old fellow! I have brought you to death, but I didn’t mean to do so.” “I forgive you. Poor Girzilla!” One of the Arabs had fainted with fright, and before either of his comrades or Max could reach forward to save him, he had fallen out of the boat and was dashed to pieces in the whirlpool. “Gone only a few minutes before us,” Max groaned, now thoroughly serious and alive to his fate. Was it imagination? Were their senses so numbed that they did not feel the dizzying whirl of the boat, or had the boat suddenly become stationary? Ibrahim looked with bloodshot eyes at Max. The madcap returned the look, equally puzzled as to what had taken place. They had reached the very center of the whirlpool, and the fury of the whirling waters had spent themselves. Like the famous Moskoestrom or Maelstrom, off the Norwegian coast, the center was calm and still, while the outer rings were lashed everything with the greatest fury. Like that European whirlpool, the smaller African one seemed to get tired and have a period of rest. “Pull back, boys,” said Max, when he saw that Ibrahim had seized the oar the dead Arab had let fall. Both bent themselves with their whole strength to the oars, and the boat moved as they willed it. “Change places with me--let me pull!” exclaimed Max. Ibrahim was nothing loath to do so, and he took the rudely-shaped paddle from Max, which he had used to guide the boat in place of a rudder. The American was stronger than either the Persian or the Arab, and the force of his oar soon made itself felt. The outer ring of the now quiescent whirlpool was reached, and Max uttered devoutly the words: “Thank Heaven!” While Ibrahim, after the manner of his people, exclaimed: “Allah be praised! _Sin Syu!_” Which latter was equivalent to saying: “Allah be praised! I have said it!” “We have not found the outlet of the river,” said Max. “No, nor don’t want to.” “I do, and I have already named the whirlpool ‘the Ibrahim.’” “Thanks for the honor. But let us get back to uncle, and--Girzilla.” “My dear fellow, you are in love with the pretty Egyptian. How she will listen to your ‘hairbreadth ’scapes on sea and land.’” “Hush! we are drifting.” “Drifting isn’t the word for it, we are going thirty miles an hour. Pull, you lazy Arab, pull!” Max exerted all his strength. The Arab became purple in the face with the strain. On both the perspiration stood in great drops; their sinews were like huge cords stretched under the skin. “Snap!”