Ted and his father were on their way from Sitka to the Copper River. Mr.
Strong was on the United States Geological Survey, which Ted knew meant
that he had to go all around the country and poke about all day among
rocks and mountains and glaciers. He had come with his father to this far
Alaskan clime in the happiest expectation of adventures with bears and
Indians, always dear to the heart of a boy.

He was pretty tired of the sledge, having been in it since early morning,
and he was cold and hungry besides; so he was delighted when the dogs
stopped and his father said:

"Hop out, son, and stretch your legs. We'll try to find out where we are
before we go any farther."

Chetwoof meanwhile was interviewing the boy, who came quickly toward
them, "Who are you?" demanded Chetwoof.

"Kalitan Tenas," was the brief reply.

"Where are we?" was the next question.

"Near to Pilchickamin River."

"Where is a camp?"

"There," said the boy, pointing toward a clump of pine-trees. "Ours."

Ted by this time was tired of his own unwonted silence, and he came up to
Kalitan, holding out his hand.