"Long Peter was for leaving him right there in care of Coffee Jack. You see, there's not much love lost between the Chilkats and the Stiks. The two tribes used to be continually at war, for the Chilkats wouldn't let the Stiks come out to the coast without a fight. And though the presence of the whites prevents actual war at present, the members of the rival tribes have very little to say to each other, remembering the old feud. "I was quite unwilling, however, to leave Lucky until I had assured myself that his wound was healing properly, so we remained there with him a week. At the end of that time, as all went well, I made preparations to continue on the journey, intending to leave provisions enough to last the two brothers until they could return to their village, for they had with them, at the time of the accident, a very small supply of dried salmon, and that was already consumed. "There are two log shanties near the foot of Klukshu Lake. One was in good repair, and the door was fastened with a padlock. I suppose some white man--Dalton, perhaps--keeps supplies there. The other was open to any one who cared to enter, and though the roof was gone, the hut afforded fairly good shelter. Into this hut we carried Lucky, after repairing the roof as well as we could, and cutting some firewood, for it was intensely cold. With a good fire blazing in the centre of the room and Coffee Jack at hand, there was no fear that Lucky would suffer with cold, even though the mercury froze in the tube, as in fact it did a little later in my pocket thermometer when I hung it on my tent-pole one night. "When all was ready, and Long Peter and I had packed our goods on our sleds, I went into the hut to say good-by to the brothers. Lucky beckoned me to come closer. When I had done so, Coffee Jack shut the door behind me. I thought from their actions that they had something to say, and didn't wish Long Peter to hear it, which proved to be the case. "Having made sure that Peter was at a distance, Lucky said in a low tone, 'You good man. You help me. You give me muck-muck. Now me help you. Me find big nug--what you call 'em--nuggit--Kah Sha River--big as my head--four moons. Me show you when snow go away--no find him now.'" Here Roly interrupted to ask if Lucky's head was as big as four moons. "Oh, no!" replied Uncle Will, smiling. "He meant that it was four months ago when he found the big nugget. The only month the Indians know is the period between one full moon and another, which is about thirty days.