"No; he will go 'on his own' after the new agent gets in this spring."
"It is true," answered Unookuk gravely, for the first time a little impressed, for this news was not yet common property. Still, they could have heard it from some passer with a dog-team. The Boy spoke of Holy Cross, and Unookuk's grave unbelief was painted on every feature.
"It was good you get to Holy Cross before the big storm," he said, with a faint smile of tolerance for the white man's tall story. But Peetka laughed aloud.
"What good English you speak!" said the Boy, determined to make friends with the most intelligent-appearing native he had seen.
"Me; I am Kurilla!" said Unookuk, with a quiet magnificence. Then, seeing no electric recognition of the name, he added: "You savvy Kurilla!"
The Colonel with much regret admitted that he did not.
"But I am Dall's guide—Kurilla."
"Oh, Dall's guide, are you," said the Boy, without a glimmer of who Dall was, or for what, or to what, he was "guided." "Well, Kurilla, we're pleased and proud to meet you," adding with some presence of mind, "And how's Dall?"
"It is long I have not hear. We both old now. I hurt my knee on the ice when I come down from Nulato for caribou."
"Why do you have two names?"