"No, live on island out there." Kalitan waved his hand seaward. "Come to
fish with my uncle, Klake Tyee. This good fishing-ground."

"It's a pretty fine country," said Ted, glancing at the scene, which bore
charm to other than boyish eyes. To the east were the mountains
sheltering a valley through which the frozen river wound like a silver
ribbon, widening toward the sea. A cold green glacier filled the valley
between two mountains with its peaks of beauty. Toward the shore, which
swept in toward the river's mouth in a sheltered cove, were clumps of
trees, giant fir, aspen, and hemlock, green and beautiful, while seaward
swept the waves in white-capped loveliness.

Kalitan ushered them to the camp with great politeness and
considerable pride.

"You've a good place to camp," said Mr. Strong, "and we will gladly share
your fire until we are warm enough to go on."

Ted's face fell. "Must we go right away?" he asked. "This is such a
jolly place."

"No go to-day," said Kalitan, briefly, to Chetwoof. "_Colesnass_."[2]

[Footnote 2: Snow.]

"Huh!" said Chetwoof. "Think some."

"Here comes my uncle," said Kalitan, and he ran eagerly to meet an old
Indian who came toward the camp from the shore. He eagerly explained the