Kalitan, Our Little Alaskan Cousin

by Mary F. Nixon-Roulet

"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.

"My name is Ted Strong," he said, genially, grinning cheerfully at the young Alaskan. "I say this is a jolly place. I wish you would teach me to fish in a snow-hole. It must be great fun. I like you; let's be friends!" Kalitan took the boy's hand in his own rough one.

"Mahsie" (thank you), he said, a sudden quick smile sweeping his dark face like a fleeting sunbeam, but disappearing as quickly, leaving it grave again. "Olo?" (hungry).